Be Aggressive

[The Federation]

The sun burned the fog away from the coastal capital of Charleroi revealing blue skies to all of the city’s traveling populace and the sun gleamed off the windows of the few skyscrapers dotting the city's skyline. The city had grown quite considerably over the years, it became a center of culture with its long history of music and song, it was the first of Sylvania’s industrial centers, though now it was now overshadowed by the city of Baldwin-Whitehall which at one time had been two small little port towns. One thing had never changed about Charleroi, it had and always will be the nation’s center of government and a bastion of libertarian ideals. Though one of these widely held beliefs in Sylvania would be challenged today. These thoughts on the city and it’s history swirled around in the head of Sylvania’s President, Sander Rygaard, as he rode in the back seat of a private chauffeur rented to drive him to the building that housed the Four Houses Congress.

Some would wonder why the President of a nation would need to have a car rented for him, the answer lies in the fundamental way Sylvania treats its politicians. Unlike the grand republics of Europe who elevate their executives and representatives to a status fit for kings and queens, looking up to them as idols and incorruptible beings, the Sylvanian people do no such thing and during the creation of the Union Contract it was written that politicians would be given no special treatment, property or extravagant compensation for the duty of serving the people. Rygaard was quite happy with that arrangement, it allowed him to focus on his duties to the country rather than have his ego filled with insignificant items or praise, it kept his eyes open to criticism as far as he was concerned and it allowed him to keep living in his townhouse which he and his wife had spent so much time turning into the perfect family dwelling.

Rygaard shuffled through the packet of papers on his lap before looking back out the window, it was what seemed like an exciting day as people drove about in their vehicles or walked on the crowded sidewalks. Life in Charleroi was vibrant at all times of the day, rarely dangerous, but mostly vibrant. He wondered what the people, who had spent a large amount of their lives dedicated to the ideals of their nation, would think of his proposal when it became public. Would there be mass protest? Anger? He was sure the first reaction would not be agreeable, but he hoped, that with explanation and spirited debate they would come to see it how he did. As the car came up to the ornate building his heart raced for a moment knowing that within the hour he would be speaking to all three hundred congressmen and women.

Rygaard gave a healthy tip to the driver and walked to the entrance, greeting a few citizens as they walked past. The inside was cool and comfortable as he walked to the executive office suite to gather a few things. Inside he greeted his secretary who informed him of a few calls and also that someone was waiting for him in the office. As he entered his guest rose from her chair and turned to face him.

“Mister President, how are you today? The woman asked.

“Please Miss Viklund, you do not need to address me formally every time you come to see me, my first name shall suffice. Now what is it you wish to speak with me about?”

Autumn Viklund was the Director of Foreign Affairs, she was younger than most who had held her position before, but she had demonstrated the knowledge and attitude needed for the job. “Sir, are you truly going to put forward your proposal to congress today? I fear it will create much chaos in every channel of our government, to propose this change would be to challenge the very image we have put out to others over the years.”

Rygaard stood for a moment and thought over her words. “I know it will be upsetting to many and I know that it may be immediately struck down, but what I hope is that when all has settled they will see it like I do. The August Catastrophe, the Continental Wars, the North Wars, whatever you want to call those series of disasters was a sign of the coming storm Miss Viklund. If we do not prepare for the storm then we risk being swept away in its raging winds. Our government may be limited in its power over the people, but it is our responsibility to defend them from those who wish to destroy that limited power.”

“Do you truly think that these imperialists, these anarchists and revolutionaries will come for us?” Autumn said, a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

“If they don’t come now then when all peoples of the other republics are subverted and destroyed they will surely come then. We cannot continue to bank on our peaceful outlook to keep us safe forever. Now I must go and meet with congress, do take care.” Rygaard picked up his reading glasses and papers and went for the door.

“Good luck sir, I will continue to assure curious nations that we still have peaceful intentions should word spill out internationally. Lord knows the papers would kill to get a hint at the session today.”

Rygaard nodded and thanked her as he let her out, following behind her and then splitting off in the direction of the congressional chambers.

A clamor erupted from the room as he opened the door to enter, many of the congress people were theorizing what could be the subject of this unscheduled session. Rygaard took his place at the center of the circular room and motioned for the aides to begin passing out copies of his proposal. Minutes passed as the packets were passed out and silence became a low roar as another few minutes passed by the time the last copy was given out. The low roar went to silence again as they now began to realize the contents of the proposal and in a split second the silence exploded into raucous yelling as the information sank into their minds.

“I can’t take this back to my district! It’s political suicide!” A Congressman yelled out over the roaring voices.

“The people will not stand for this! I know it! My district is staunchly against this sort of thing! Another yelled.

“Be quiet! I think the President has a point, our enemies grow stronger everyday! This isn’t against out beliefs it simply allows us to pack a better punch when they come for us!” One shouted at the other, in agreement with Rygaard’s proposal.

“ORDER! ORDER! There will be order in this house!” Yelled the chamber’s officer attempting to bring the roar of voices into a proper debate. The voices quieted for a moment and Rygaard to the moment to speak.

“We must do this or else we risk posing as easy prey for the ideologies of violence that infest this world. Increasing our defense capabilities is the only way, by mastering these weapons and arming ourselves with more of them we put out an image of strength that will make these parasites think twice before assaulting us. I trust our system of government enough to know that this expansion of military will be used for defending our peace rather than imperialist goals, that is why I put this proposal before you men and women. I have confidence that you can come to a decision or compromise that will allow us to keep our years of peace and prosperity safe. However, those reasons are not the only ones for doing this.”

Rygaard paused and looked around the room, the men and women now caught up in his words. “A storm is coming, it looms just below the horizon and when it comes this world will be torn asunder, only those with the strength needed to weather this storm will come out alive, we must be one of those survivors!”

The room erupted back into raucous debate as soon as he finished. He knew it would be difficult and there would be much more persuading to be done in the coming days.

 

[The Federation]

(OOC: corresponding newspaper article:

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Closed meetings of congress always attracted the attention of every journalist in Charleroi; and the tribune had a long streak of breaking through the cone of silence the Four Houses imposed over themselves while debating their next steps. Nobody knew who sold to the paper or if one of the staffers was a spy for them, but they never failed to get the story they were looking for. Four days had passed since Rygaard introduced his policy for debate; the record for keeping leaks from happening had been broken after one day. This very fact created an even larger buzz in the media, it was so extraordinary that even the soulless profiteers who called themselves journalist began to care about what was going on in the confines of the capital building. With every print cycle that passed, the hearts of Charleroi skipped a beat and when the clock struck midnight their hearts raced in shear surprise at the secrecy.

Day one had been uneventful aside from the Rygaard’s bombshell and the debate on whether to even present the bill to their constituents. On day two the congress men and women traveled to their respective districts; many traveled via car and train, others who represented the outlying districts took flights to their respective homes. Day three was used for the representatives to prepare their presentations and to schedule district meetings. On day four messengers spread the news of the impending voter meetings. Tomorrow, on day five, the meetings would begin and last for two weeks to give everyone time to get copies of the bill and voice their opinions to their representative. Up until this point nobody had been given advanced warning of the contents of the bill other than the reps themselves. Nobody knew why they had kept their mouths shut, only the feeling of an alteration to the public mind set loomed in the gulf of time between the end of the closing for the various printing presses in Sylvania and the start of the meetings on the fifth day.

It was in this lull of activity that an “enterprising” tribune intern had stolen a copy of the bill for himself and had delivered the story to the Charleroi Tribune Review’s HQ in time for it to be front page news in the morning paper. The resulting shock of the Tribune’s breaking news had obliterated the preparation the Congress members had done to ease their constituents into the bill’s contents. Rather than a careful explanation from their elected officials, the people’s first exposure had been a blunt article that excluded the context for the bill’s contents. The town and city halls of Sylvania erupted like volcanoes of angry debate as the citizenry stormed in, primed with yellow journalist manufactured rage.

The night following the insanity of the first day of constituent deliberation was drowned in the pubs and restaurants of Sylvania’s night scene. President Rygaard himself, who was known for his voluntary abstinence from alcohol had thought the occasion worthy enough of washing the nervousness and worry away with a glass of expensive Boreasic Whiskey. His wife, who was his anchor to the world, had joined him in a drink as well after failing to divert his attention away from the ordered chaos his proposal had caused. A visit from Ms. Viklund from the Foreign Affairs office did little to calm his nerves as she attempted to give a rough prediction of the international response, if any. Though as they all sat in front of the warm fireplace, their discussion remained upbeat on the odds of convincing people to support the proposal.

 

[The Federation]

It was a cold day on the morning of the fifth day of national deliberation on the Military Increase Act. The President’s article in the paper the other day calmed some of the more reasonable people, but others who had a fanatical obsession with a more strict interpretation of the Union Contract’s non-aggression clause had taken to the streets to protest. Outside the Baldwin Shipbuilding Corporation protesters with signs denouncing the workers and owners as militarists could be seen, red paint was thrown on the guard shack and walls to the shipyard. As workers prepared to leave at the end of their shift a fight broke out between leaving workers and protesters, the fight escalated into an all out battle of fists and feet as the employees and protesters clashed over paint thrown on a secretary trying to get to her car.

Industrial workers in Baldwin and other cities went to their meeting halls and flooded the room chanting at their representatives to pass the bill, leaving letters of support with the representative to be taken back to Congress and to the President. Many of the workers elected well spoken fellow employees to make speeches to their representatives, preaching the benefits of a military increase on jobs and the economy as a whole. Many of them were tired of repairing old equipment or working on limited runs of new equipment. Others came out in support of the bill as well, telling of their fears of the monarchist encroachment into Occidentia, many of them cited the prowess of Engellexic tied nations in ways of war. They cried out that it was a gross breach of the Union Contract’s mandate for the government to defend its people by allowing the military to become so small, many even called for further expansion.

Though for every man and woman who supported the increase there were just as many voices for opposition, they felt that Sylvania’s position and peaceful ideologies did not threaten even the smallest nation. Some called the bill a disgusting call for the military industrial complex of Sylvania to become more important than other sectors of the Sylvanian economy. Many of these people were farmers or service workers from the rural and urban areas of the nation. Supporters and opposers to the bill shouted at each other in halls as officers called for orderly debate.

Oddly enough a smaller group of opposing protesters were in opposition for an entirely different reason, criticizing leaders for not first consulting the people on the idea to increase the military. These Post-Delegationists as they called themselves, schooled on the major ideology of Touzen through various media publications and other resources, claimed that by first introducing the bill into the Four House Congress and then asking the people to voice opinion limited their ability to affect change upon the bill itself. They felt that even if Congress had put forward a referendum to the people, the people had to put all trust in them to carry their opinion to the final vote, a trust that this new but small bloc of voters could not give to their representatives. The attention they had garnered through local media outlets troubled the highest stations of the government even though in public Sylvanian leaders had called Touzen a bastion of freedom among a multitude of oppressed nations.

The debate had started small but with a bang, it was chaotic, it had caught many voters off guard with the opinion piece in the paper. Now that things had calmed and had been explained a storm of lively debate swept across the nation, along with protests and demonstrations in every city for and against the Increase Military Act. Record numbers of hours of sleep were lost as the Congress people and their assistants listened and took in the thoughts of their constituency.

 

[The Federation]

Back again in the capital of Charleroi, the morning sun reflected off the windows of art deco skyscrapers and metal roofs of vehicle traffic. Debate had swept the entire nation, dinner table, water cooler and bar discussions were dominated by opinions on increasing the military. These conversations were all in the past now, replaced with a collective holding of breaths as the congress men and women returned to the City of The Four Houses. President Rygaard sat watching them file into the congressional chambers, speaking in different languages and dialects, but soon only the official language of the imminent preceding, that being English, would be spoken.

While he waited for the hour to change, Rygaard reflected on the events reported in the world of news media, The Empire of Democracy was on the verge of ceasing to exist, Carentania and Danmark slugged it out in news paper op-eds, the post-delegationists of Touzen made ready to eliminate delegationist uprising in Boliatur and in the depths of the south Implarian, a Lord of a Etiquette and Culture office in Cantigny protested his Chancellor with slogans of a dying empire. Far be it from him to deny Sylvania’s use of vitriolic speech, he could also not deny its increase in the everyday world; a precursor, like the cold wind of a coming front, for the coming storm of war.

The rapping of a gavel broke Rygaard’s deep thought and brought him back into the outside word. The chamber officer read a list of the day’s issues, the most important, the final deliberation of the military act. The speed and intensity of the debate was almost instantaneous from beginning to end, a few worried of the reactions of the increase, not so much from the world at large, but Engellex’s watch dog south west of Sylvania. Sylvania had always maintained a neutral but distant disposition on West March, participating in insignificantly small trade and a having a few words here and there. West March and Sylvania were like two men sitting at the table pretending the other did not exist for the most part which was more or less a shame. The people of the March were mostly like Sylvanians at home, the descendants of immigrants and rustic pioneers. Their government and connection to the Queen-Empress was the main point of contention for Sylvania and most likely for West March, Sylvania’s government was their main point of contention as well, seeing itself surrounded by republics or other “enemies.”

The voices of the concerned congress men were mostly drowned in the sea of newly found support for the act. The initial reaction to the military increase act was one of profound negativity, but as the days passed the opinions changed toward a supporting voice on the subject. Hours had passed as the deliberation continued until finally it came time to vote. President Rygaard had tuned out the counting of AYE and NAY votes, he preferred to not be in the chambers for this part as the tension would likely wear out his heart.

“National Defense Increase Act of 1952 is hereby passed by a vote of 163 AYE to 47 NAY. A recess will now be given.” A rap of the gavel brought Rygaard back to reality as his mind refused to process the words spoken aloud in the chamber hall. He breathed a sigh of extreme relief, excusing himself from the chamber, he no longer had interest in staying. A cab was called and Rygaard happily watched the passing buildings and people as he rushed home to inform his wife of the good news, knowing full well his pen stroke would sign the act into law the next day.

 

[The Federation]

The reaction to the act’s passage was underestimated at best, nobody within the intelligence machine would have expected such flurry of cables between the imperialist nations as was observed after the paper had released the news, for a moment Rygaard felt he should create a commission for reeling in the Tribune, but he dismissed the idea for now. He stood before the long table his cabinet met at, the cabinet room was quite cozy and the windows let in a plentiful amount of natural light. At the table itself sat his cabinet ministers and department directors; Ms. Viklund who had been hurriedly handling the flurry of reaction and response looked like she had been up all night, she most likely had not slept yet. Beside her sat the commanding heads of the respective Sylvanian military branches as well as the National Militia Liaison who was responsible for keeping track of the various civilian militias and weapons procurement for them. Economic, Labor and an assortment of other directors had shown up for the call, they were there mostly for posterior though.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming at this critical moment, our discussion here will shape our response to the imperialist powers and the future of our country as I am sure you all know. Firstly I must give thanks to Miss Viklund for her hard work at attempting to calm these bloodthirsty savages that call themselves rulers and civilized. If they were truly civilized, things like the NDIA would have never been needed; they have shown their hand to us and their puppets blindly tow the imperialist line just as we thought. At this moment the only members I need today are Foreign Affairs, the Defense Department, our Militia Liaison and the honorable Generals. As for the rest of you fine Ladies and Gentlemen you may stay or go as you wish, I’m sure you all have some sort of business to attend to.”

A few of the department directors stood and departed to handle their own affairs, while a few others were interested in staying.
“Good now that we are all settled we will discuss our response and strategy, but first, Miss Viklund, if you will I would ask you to call forward Mister Darrow of the Baldwin Shipyards.”

Miss Viklund left the room and came back with Darrow in tow, Darrow was the current CEO of the Baldwin Shipbuilding Company and an acquaintance of President Rygaard.

“Ah, Mister Darrow, so nice of you to come on short notice,” Rygaard said, shaking Darrow’s hand before motioning for him to sit. Darrow nodded in acknowledgment and let Rygaard continue.

“Now as we all know, the imperialist establishment has reacted quite negatively to our planned military increases, of course we should have known that such parasitic powers would fear any such buildup and though are intentions are purely for national defense rather than conquest they think otherwise.”

“Indeed,” chimed, Director Viklund, “such calls for action against us have, no doubt that you all know already, Dulwich. We should not be surprised that the bloody Queen of Engellex would have her dirty, manipulative hands deep in all of this outcry against our nation’s right to defense.”

Upon the end of Director Viklund’s sentence, Fleet Admiral Girard stood to speak. “Giving up our defense increase would be foolish now, as I am sure Field Marshal Corbett here agrees. These expansions are needed and the imperialist power’s response is quite indicative of that need. A larger military will serve to deter their bloodthirsty interests and preserve our one hundred year peace.”

“I concur.” Responded Rygaard. “Therefore we are put in a precarious position. By keeping on course we risk sanctions or even worse, some sort of intervention. Therefore we must either go about convincing them that our intentions are purely peaceful and only in the interest of defense and stability. Or, we must lie.”

“Agreed,” added Defense Director McFeely. “If convincing them fails, then we must argue to convince them to allow us to go with a reduction in the numbers the NDIA calls for, meanwhile at home we continue our buildup in secret. Rotating units to make our forces look smaller, and our weapons factories are already heavily monitored by the military, keeping spies out will be easy in that regard should the imperialists attempt any sort of subterfuge. However, the shipyards will have a hard time keeping a new ship secret when you can easily see what is going on there at any time during the day.”

Darrow took advantage of the pause in McFeely’s words to speak. “Gentlemen, it would not be that hard to build an enclosure around our dry docks. I am already, with these new orders, increasing security at the yards. If the Navy could add to this we can surely keep whatever it is you choose to be secret.... secret. Once the ship intended for secrecy is built, it can be stored there and put in reserve should a nation attack us. We can switch them out at night for sea trials, with the same livery and name painted on, the powers of Europe would be unable to tell whether the ship was new or not.”

The room was silent for a moment as they all thought on the developing discussion. It was Rygaard who broke the silence. “Then we shall keep these plans in reserve. Miss Viklund here will contact the concerned powers and request that we all meet on neutral ground to discuss, the “crisis” Dulwich has manufactured. Should we fail to convince them to allow us to carry out the complete NDIA, then we shall sue for a reduced NDIA and continue to develop the cuts made at the meeting in secret.”

Rygaard motioned for every to stand. “Ladies. Gentlemen. I have no doubt you all know speaking of these decisions is high treason against our Republic. I dislike lying, but if we must lie to keep our nation competitive with the larger military powers of Europe, then so be it. May God guide us in our endeavor for peace in Sylvania.”

 

[The Federation]

It was late into the evening of Thursday, Sander Rygaard sat in the smoking room of his Charleroi town house while the Libertarian Coalition chairman spoke angrily about the recent events in Sylvania.

“Sander, this is getting to close to the Conservative’s position, I fear everything we are doing right now is just a confirmation of their nationalist campaign two years ago. If we continue on this path we could end up winning the next election for them.”

Rygaard shifted in his chair as he smoked his pipe. “Some of our actions may lean toward the Conservative’s side, but if it was the conservatives in power we would already be at war with the first nation that bothered to raise an eyebrow at us.”

The Chairman scoffed, “and what about Viklund pulling her staff from Danmark?”

“I ordered that,” Rygaard quickly interjected, “Danmark is not a nation we should be looking to even have cold and distant relations with. Their ministers are especially radical, not only in their words but in their actions as well.”

“And what about the rumors of Thumantic naval cooperation between Fennia and Danmark? Closing our diplomatic avenues with the Danes has made it impossible for us to get a lead on what is going on in such dealings.”

Rygaard paused for a moment. “Are you now willing to abandon a fundamental tenet of our party so that we can get a handle on what the powers in Sarmatia and Gallia are doing? The Fennians fear communist spies lurking in every shadow, attempting to negotiate an agreement with them would only lead us into conflict with the communist nations. I have no intentions of doing such things and I have yet to be convinced that the reds are as much of a menace as these authoritarians say they are.”

The chairman sat silent for a moment. “I fear your policies are going to isolate us so much that we will never be able to effectively interact with the world. Our party may be about self reliance, but you know just as well as I do, that no peace loving nation can truly be isolated and still provide its people with the opportunity to live comfortably.”

Rygaard shook his head disapprovingly, “everything I have done, I have done to maintain our peace and our freedom, I feel nothing but sadness that the communists can be considered more aligned with the values of freedom and sovereignty than the crowned dictators who claim to be paragons of such ideals. Though I dislike their anti-capitalist policies, I gain a small sense of satisfaction when a nation like Carentania openly defies the pale skinned products of incest who call themselves leaders. As long as their global revolution does not spread into our sphere of influence I shall remain silent while they spill the blood of the reactionaries.”

A silence filled the room, only the crackle of the fireplace and the inhalation of tobacco could be heard. “While these fools continue to outdo each other with even larger spectacles of “power” we shall remain safe and secure. For now chairman, you worry about the next election, I shall continue to lead us away from entering the growing global conflict.”

 

[The Federation]

Like many times before Sander Rygaard found himself in front of two-hundred men and women, two-hundred representatives of some twenty-five million men, women and children. His meeting with his party’s chairman still fresh in his mind. Yet despite the trepidation he felt about his impending speech, he found that when he finally began speaking, that it was all too easy to let out. His conviction overcame any feeling of doubt he had about how he would position the nation; this conviction could be felt throughout the entire house chambers as the representatives began to quiet themselves as he started speaking.

“Esteemed colleagues, we have done much to foster peace and prosperity in our land and while the world burns over petty squabbles about governments and blockades we continue to march forward, shrugging off their attempts to latch on to us like leeches that suck away our confidence and resolve. Yet while we have done much to continue on our path, there remains much more to do. First and foremost I must congratulate you all on holding to your word on the National Defense Increase Act, our industrial sectors have experienced a considerable boost in the last few months and our people rejoice at the influx of newly created jobs. Yet when we look out across the vastness of our world at the many nations that populate it, we find that we lag behind them in military and civilian technology, our soldiers are well equipped yet they are equipped with outdated battle implements. It is with this revelation brought to me by our military leaders that you must vote to create an amendment to the NDIA that increases the amount of money spent on researching new technologies by any means.

With this now said, I come to my second point, Sylvania as a nation is a vast and varied landscape. As we travel the confines of our borders we come across a great amount of different environments that lend themselves to different styles of life. Out west we find the great wilderness and mountains of our land, where families of all walks of life go to live a simpler, more rugged life. In the East lie our great cities and metropolises and though a large majority of our population lives within the confines of these urban landscapes we must not forget to look past the concrete pavement and stone buildings and see what lies beyond these city limits. As we speak, entrepreneurs scour the fields and forests looking for mineral riches, minerals that we need to power our now more mechanized economy. Oil and coal must be the main focus for the future of Sylvania’s energy needs and though our exploration and production provides just enough to satisfy these needs, come ten years from now they will be surely outclassed. To prevent exploration now would be to deal a crippling blow to our future selves and to our ability to defend this nation. We must in this case then provide subsidies to young energy companies looking to cut out a share in the potential profit from our vast potential resources as well as a way to easily and fairly purchase a plot of unused land for the very purposes of extracting resources.

These two things are paramount to the success of our nation and our future endeavors, to become the agents of peace we so wish to be, we must build the power base necessary to accomplish these tasks. We must create a attitude of aggression for which we can use to tackle our internal needs and become an economic power house not only in Occidentia, but the world itself. While the world stews in a pot of confusion and anger, we shall use this opportunity to become stronger than ever before. By increasing our technological prowess militarily we can make defending our neutrality much easier, by creating a powerful economy we can become an attractive investment opportunity that will in turn make the world dependent on us for trade. If you help me accomplish these tasks, ladies and gentlemen, I promise full employment, another one hundred years of peace and a level of prosperity unmatched by anything upon this world.”

Silence filled the room as Rygaard’s last words echoed through the Four Houses congressional chambers. Many began to clap once the words had sunk into their skulls, the quiet clapping soon became a rapturous applause as Rygaard stepped back from the podium. He had just laid out his plan to make Sylvania the fortress of Occidentia, the untouchable land he had envisioned, a utopia of peace and self-determination was within his grasp as the image of the future filled his vision. Yet, the vision before him now was still far out of his reach and the reaction of the world at large and of his own people would shape their direction.

He remained confident that in their collective apathy, he could, without the violence of war, move Sylvania into a position reserved for world powers. A strong defense and economy would be required to make it happen; he would also have to being forging ties with other nations in terms of global trade. Military alliances however would be out of the question, he could not jeopardize his plan by getting formally involved in whatever conflict may crop up next, though with the help of his foreign department and perhaps an intelligence agency, the could work behind the scenes to help friendly nations into better positions of power.

Such behind the scenes involvement was already in the works with Jurchen; Touzen would, once they finally formed a government, be a candidate for similar agreements. Perhaps a secret agreement with the communists could be used to indirectly deal damage to the reactionary monarchist powers. These monarchist and fascist powers were indeed the greatest threat, a threat that everyone within his administration knew all to well. They could and were in the process of swaying political opinion of nations much weaker than them or more susceptible to propaganda created by these powers. He felt though that he should for the time being hold off on formally contacting the communist powers. Carentania, now mostly on it’s own would not be able to help hold up some sort of sanctions against Danmark for their invasion of Raigestan and it was the opinion of Director Viklund and himself that their initial communication with Carentania about supporting sanctions had fallen through upon the weapons embargo on The Jurzan. The embargo, which Director Viklund had asked for a better explanation from the foreign ministers of Carentania had not been answered, most likely due to the international reaction to their actions now dominating the red nation’s every thought.

These musings dominated Rygaard’s mind up until a recess had been called for the day, it was during his walk to the park next door that he thought of the news of a group of volunteers that had gone to fight on the side of the post-delegationist expeditionary force now marching across Boliatur. It would be through these one-thousand and some odd men that he would be able to create a strong diplomatic link to these two nations. Indeed it was quite fortunate that such an occurrence had not been quelled like they had originally planned to. Marshall Dorgon of Jurchen was quite visibly becoming a much more powerful figure in Toyou and should their volunteers show the conviction of a Sylvanian with a mission or similar purpose, Rygaard hoped it would convince him that their home country was indeed worthy of more attention. For now the volunteers and the covert promise of support would suffice until there was enough strength to formally reveal such ties to the world.

 

[The Federation]

Months later.... 14th of January 1953 "Year of the Sylvanian Republic"


Sander Rygaard had never felt so in control in his life, he had the ear of the people; his hand on the powerful, passionate pulse of the nation. This oneness it seemed to him granted him the ability of future-sight, but he knew better; he knew the feeling was not some sort of magic or unlocked power. No, it was the power afforded by his control over the people who willingly granted it to him. His New Years speech had given him an adrenaline rush he had never felt, the fever pitch of hatred toward the Danish Hegemony had catapulted him further than he had thought it could. Nothing could stop him from realizing the dream of an influential Sylvanian Republic.

Sylvanian Republic... He had injected the words into the lives of millions with only a few simple pen strokes and a little effort in convincing the right people. And now he sat before his instrument, this melodious instrument that he had become so well at playing, congressmen, they sat before him arguing to each other. They argued about the rights of man, non-aggression, nation building, civic duties and liberation. Letters from the gentle folk of Fey were passed around the grand halls of representative governance, the letters from men, women and children thanked the honorable peoples of Sylvania for finding their product worthy of consumption. In fact it was the crisis over in Agder and Fey that had saved lives in Sylvania, the Storm of the Century had dismantled entire commercial fishing fleets. A major food source suddenly disappearing would strain the entire food producing network of a battered coastline and there sat the poor peasants of Fey upon a mountain of the stuff, their economic collapse ravaging their already meager existence. The deal was a gigantic victory of Sylvanian strategy for the crisis, soon after an entire plan was to be created. With 118 ships of Danish royal trash setting a course for the north the word was the Frescanians where more than happy to sit back and watch the Engellexic, whose cheeks where red from a diplomatic backhand, increase their presence and strangle the Danish whelps until they choke or apologize like a scolded child.

The plan would unfold well if they acted quickly and luck had run their way, while the Danes and Engellexic feuded until their transmitters burst, Sylvania would put itself in direct competition with Frescania to see who would be able to keep a guiding hand upon the shoulders of the rebellion. A Republic was indeed the ultimate goal, but this could take many years and would certainly be impossible if Sylvania failed to back Queen Inger Lise in favor for a purely republican solution. To do so would split the rebellion and certainly result in its bloody end. As the session of congress continued, Rygaard marveled at how Danish inaction had placed this opportunity in his lap, on an election year where unlike previous years, demanded a spectacular action should he want a second term; not only that, but during a time when Sylvania desperately needed to increase its project-able sphere of influence as the Night Watchman of Occidentia and increase respect and recognition in the international realm of diplomacy. He wasn't sure what would happen next, but war was not an option he would take.

..."Our aggression within this crisis has dismantled what we have stood for since our inception. How can you, Mister President, sit there and say to us that we are not provoking with an aggressive act."

"Sir, you misunderstand me," Rygaard responded, "This is indeed an act of aggression, I can not deny this obvious fact. However, we have gone long past the initiation of aggression and we have not initiated the aggression. My requests for action are merely a response, a response that is fully allowed by the very principle in question. Count upon your finger, if you will good sir, the number of true republics on this planet."

Rygaard held up his hand, "I shall do it for you, Sylvania.... and... Frescania." he said as he lifted his pointer and middle finger respectively. "Our very way of governance and our existence is under a fundamental attack from all flanks, the communists and fascists have infected all aspects of the free society a republic should offer and Danmark is all too eager to speak to those viruses as friends. Men have arisen within the Agderike to fight for a free society where they pick their own sovereign rather than submit to a man who would clog an entire ocean to spend a few days in a friendly monarchy puffing up his own royal image while those around him live in squalor. In essence the aggression was started long ago when the Danish Royal Council suspended the only working government of Agder and Fey and plunged them into a moment of pure, unadulterated anarchy. I'm not asking for an entire invasion of Agder, but 30 ships to commit to freedom in Agder. Thirty ships we would add to the Frescanian contribution, a combination that would surely ward off any Danish trickery when this First Justish Fleet passes by to visit the world's brothel for a few days."

The joke capped off his response to the opposing congressman. A raucous laughter filled the air for a few seconds, Rygaard smiled, he had them where he needed them to be.

 

[The Federation]

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TELEX
​

THUR1171953

ENCRYP: HIGHEST

FM NVY HQ BALWHI
TO V ADM TIMOTHY PIETT
1st EXP FLT


SUBJ: NEW ORDERS
COND: RED ALT


ALL SHIPS NOW FORM IN TF 5. STEAM WEST TO ULRIKEN AND MEET THUNDER CHILD.
ANY AGGRESSION FROM DANISH SHIP TO BE MATCHED OR GREATER. ALL PREV MISSIONS CNCLD.
PREP 1st MRN REG FOR LANDING. 1st MRN REF TO PROVIDE MED SUP AND TRNING TO PRO-LOV REBS.

GOD BE WITH YOU

NVY HQ

TEAR HERE
​

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"Jesus H. Christ, I can't believe it. I guess I owe that fat bastard cook five silverbacks," said Vice Admiral Timothy Piett as he read the newest communication from naval headquarters. "I sure hope HQ doesn't think we can take on one hundred plus ships, even with support these trainees ain't ready and we don't have these new fangled jet areocraft that the others do."

Captain Northcott nodded, "I don't understand what they think sending us out there will do."

The two men stood on the bridge of the aircraft carrier Scarlett, Sylvania's only fleet carrier. Prior to the carrier's trip out to sea, Scarlett had been been giving a training crew and a complement of fresh out of flight school fighter pilots. The trainers sent out with them were the only ones with any sort of sea experience and now HQ had just sent them into a bee hive five seconds away from falling off the tree.

"God be with me my ass." Piett said aloud.

Piett took the microphone and spoke to his newly formed task force. "Now here this, This is Vice Admiral Piett speaking. Headquarters has ordered us to the waters surrounding the Agderike, we are to bolster our current presence there by meeting up with our ships and taking command of our blockade operations. Right now as I speak, a Danish fleet of one hundred plus vessels is bearing down on our position. They say they are peacefully going to Arendaal, but we should know better than to trust a dirty Dane. You trainees have done well so far in our training operation, but this is a entirely different animal. We must remember everything we have learned over these past weeks and apply it to our mission here. That mission is to uphold the blockade and aid republican rebels in Agder. Though Engellex and Frescania have taken up positions to do mostly the same, we cannot count on them to be there for us should we need it. We must count on each other or we die in the frozen ocean deep, work as a team, live as a team and we will all make it back alive. That is all."

Northcott gave Piett a worried look as Piett ordered the fleet to sail to Agder.