Cerberus

[Great Engellex]

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Underwood and Southern Presidency Standards​

WEDNESDAY, 29 MARCH 1957, the Chief of Staff, Mr. Thomas Hale, to the Lady Seraphina Underwood arrived, sprinting through the Southern grandeur that was the Underwood Plantation mansion in rural Roanoke, Camden. It was just approaching seven o'clock in the morning, and the assortment of staff were clearing breakfast from the bedrooms or dressing members of the Underwood family or their guests. Lady Berthilde Underwood, the widowed mother of Lady Seraphina, however, was sat within the stately dining room with breakfast, the morning sun illuminating the dusty, antique charm that was the 18th century interior. Her medication was lined neatly to the left of her plate of food, almost like a complimentary, her frail hand hovering over it, and she almost did, if were not for the sudden arrival of her head housekeeper. The hasty, heavier steps of the head housekeeper reverberated in the stately room that had otherwise endured absolute silence, despite the movements of service by two liveried butlers and three maids. Lady Berthilde retracted her hand into her lap, under the table, her eyes moving their gaze from down the dining table to out the large sash windows where in the far, far distance you could just make out the capital duties toiling in the sun, almost like ants. Like all plantations in Camden and Otho-Eam, this one worked. Lady Seraphina, whispered the head housekeeper to Lady Berthilde from behind, has been elected President. The news caused the mother to have a momentary gasp, her left hand clutching now the right tightly within her lap, her sight not moving from the distance out the windows, though she did follow that gasp with a short nod in acknowledgement.

About the rest of the residence the other members of the family, guests and political staff belonging to Lady Seraphina Underwood emerged from their slumbering rooms, like a rattled nest of wasps. Lord Tywin Underwood was one of the first of the family to depart his apartment in a flurry at the news, smartening the collar and cuffs of his navy dress suit as he frustratedly demanded to be informed of his wife's whereabouts, his staff or help following his every direction in haste. Her brother, Sir Gawain Underwood, stood somewhat stupefied in the midst of the frenzy that had erupted inside the residence, around him were cheers, distant cries of emotion, and the not so delicate whisperings of people still trying to locate Lady Seraphina Underwood.

Behind the residence, to the northwest, stretched five acres of an orange orchard. Lady Seraphina could see the Underwood Plantation from where she stood, within the orchard, but the orange trees concealed her from the house, allowing her that short moment of peace, or, more importantly, privacy. Success or failure, hers, undoubtedly consumed those still inside, who no doubt were searching for her. For that brief moment, Lady Seraphina Underwood stood motionless against the merciful breeze that carried itself through the row of trees, lifting the occasional leaves and dust to her bare legs, her face held up to the warmth of the sun. It would not be long before her private sanctuary would be violated by one or another with the urgent news. No, it was not one or another, but her Chief of Staff, Mr. Thomas Hale who had finally found her. Hand held over his brow, the other on his waist, he determined an assumed location, and proceeded to march as gracefully as he could across the grassy expanse of the plantation toward the orange orchard. He found her, and despite the familiarity of their relationship, this was awkward. It would appear, ma'am, that you won the presidency, informed Hale properly with momentary takings for air. And, ugh, staff from the Lieutenant Governor's Office are on their way, he continued. Lady Seraphina turned to Hale, right. They both proceeded to turn and depart the orange orchard for the reality dawning within the residence.

Three black Jaguar Mark VIIIs speedily rolled up to the front of Underwood Plantation, exiting the vehicles in haste were senior staff belonging to the Lieutenant Governor's Office. Two men in dark navy morning suits, two women in the tailored suits featuring the long pencil skirt and fitted jacket with peplum - both in grey, were led inside by Mrs. Martha Hogg, the lead of their delegation, who also wore a tailored suit but in a striking red. The head butler instinctively directed them through the maze of rooms, halls and so on, to the Misapina Underwood Room where Lady Seraphina deemed meet them.

Is this not a little green? Questioned Lady Seraphina as her ladies maid sought to dress her in an emerald suit, consisting of a fitted short-sleeved jacket with a paplum and a full skirt. I believe everyone else will be in blue, I thought you would prefer to be identified, ma'am, answered the maid. Everyone else can change, Lady Seraphina informed. Black or grey? She continued absently as she watched the maid through the full-length mirror prepare the navy suit. Ma'am? Asked the maid confused. Everyone else. Should they be in black, or grey? She clarified. The maid stood back, looked the navy suit up and down, and then gave her answer, black, ma'am, with a smile. Right. What's next? Lady Seraphina asked as the maid finished fitting the clothes. Jewellery, ma'am, she answered. A single line of pearls, and the rose diamond brooch, she decided. And for your ears, ma'am? Wondered the maid. Stud pearls, she said. Her Chief of Staff, Hale, entered her apartment. They're here? She asked, as her maid finished with the last earring. In the Misapina Underwood Room, answered Hale. Right, she said, before taking a breath and leaving the room. As Lady Seraphina left her apartment she instructed her maid to, have everyone in black. The maid bowed her head, yes, ma'am.

Lady Seraphina arrived to the Misapina Underwood Room; a vast late 18th century hall of hard wooden floors and panelled walls, that was sparsely furnished, and entirely dominated by the grandest white stone fireplace in the South, well, until she arrived. Her hard heels against the expansive floor impressed an imagery of an approaching grenadier regiment upon the unaware staff of the Lieutenant Governor, who had simply remained seated and in silence before the 50ft fireplace - with its horrifying decoration of death and conquest by the Underwoods against the natives, all in the imposing stone, and enriched by heat and the licking flame of the fire. To describe them as startled was a little understated, as the five of them immediately stood to attention, and only aware of Lady Seraphina when they quickly spun round. Typhon*, I consider it in effect, she informed them without possible question. The Governor of Elephant and Castle, he'll understand, she added, before stopping in the middle of the hall. The result remains only knowledgeable to those in senior circles? She asked to the staff. If you mean, has the result been made public? Then, no. The result is tightly held, awaiting for your instruction, ma'am, answered Mrs. Hogg, the lead staff of the Lieutenant Governor's delegation. Good. Do we have any news of the result from Dulwich? A coordinated result is the preferred course of action, asked Lady Seraphina, herself referring to the election in the Northern Constituent Republics that occured alongside her own. We do not. I believe only the Governor (of Elephant and Castle) would be able to confirm that for you, ma'am, Mrs. Hogg supposed. Very well. I shall contact the Governor before our departure. Before Lady Seraphina could turn on her heels and make her leave, Mrs. Hogg interjected, ma'am, are you to make a statement over the wires when the news breaks officially? Is it a yes to the EBC (Erumpetine Broadcasting Council)? Lady Seraphina turned back to Mrs. Hogg and nodded, yes it is. Twenty-nine minutes following that short meeting, the residence, the Underwood Plantation, was deserted with the exception of a skeleton number of staff, as Lady Seraphina, her family, the majority of their household staff, and the political staff disembarked Roanoke for Elephant and Castle by private plane.

At twelve o'clock, midday at the Governor's official residence in Elephant and Castle, Lady Seraphina Underwood sat at the desk of Lord Henry Swann-Pryce, the Governor, in an especially prepared office to deliver an official statement to the people of the Southern Constituent Republics, but also the rest of the Engellexian Republic and, of course, South Himyari neighbours. The news announcer at the Erumpetine Broadcasting Council southern headquarters in Elephant and Castle was given the all clear wave by his station controller. This is Elephant and Castle, he declared boldly with a characteristic Engell public school accent but with a Southern infiltration. It is with the greatest jubilation that we can make the following announcement. It is from Pink House (Governor's official residence) at twelve-o-one today that Lady Seraphina Underwood will address you all on her election as the first President of the Southern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic... At Pink House, the drawing rooms and halls were bustling with the excitement of hundreds of staffers, politicians, family members, and other significant peoples of the southern capital, as they contemplated being witness to an extraordinary milestone of Engell history. In the Governor's office, Lady Seraphina Underwood sat upon the highback red leather chair at the desk of the Governor, flanked by the flags of Camden and the Engellexian Republic, with the sunshine pouring in from the tall windows behind her. Three, two, one.. was counted down for her by those managing all the equipment and machinery about the office. Sitting stiffly resolute, with her elbows on the desk, hands together, she waited a moment of absolute silence on the wires before speaking.

Fellow free peoples of the Southern Constituent Republics, of the Northern Constituent Republics, the First Republic... our Engellexian Republic.

I know how much you all love our Republic, our First Republic, unequaled it is in this world; and I know how jubilant you all are at our shared success today. But today - today you must put such well deserved, well earned sentiments aside, for now, she said, her tone changing to one more solemn. For our shared duty calls. The success here, of our determined and willed First Republic, will be felt far and wide. That feeling - felt far and wide, will not be one of jubilation.

I will be needing your collective strength and spirit, and you will be needing my strength and my strength of leadership. She paused. We have all seen the Sovereignty and Dignity of our Republic hacked away here, and more recently in the North, from the failure of our former political leaders to confront the indulgences of our European competitors made against us. I will not allow myself to make similar mistakes. There can be no more.

But while you all celebrate my election, you must all also celebrate the Engellexian Republic, for it has been replaced, in spirit and strength, by the First Republic.

The First Republic and our European competitors will frequently now be in conflict with one and another - the nature of that conflict will be theirs to decide; but the fact is, the First Republic must win. Must always win.

The First Republic will now take precedence.

Typhon* - the designated name of political campaign and profile of Lady Seraphina Underwood, the President of the Southern Constituent Republics.

 

[Great Engellex]

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Siward and Northern Presidency Standards​

WEDNESDAY, 29 MARCH 1957, the First Undersecretary to the Private Secretary, Mr. Albert Bagnold, sped up the drive, in a typical black Jaguar Mark VIII, to Sigeberht House - the family seat of the Earldom of Londinjou. That earldom belonging to Lady Anne Siward, the Countess of Londinjou, and lies principally within the Pigglesdown region of Angellex, not far from Dulwich, and centred on the ancient city of Londinjou. Entering the extravagent 18th century stately home at the early six o'clock hour, Mr. Bagnold was greeted by his boss Lady Mabel Burdet, the Private Secretary and Lady-in-Waiting to the Countess of Londinjou. Begging your pardon, your Ladyship, but I have the official result, informed Mr. Bagnold as he delivered a wax sealed letter of importance to Lady Mabel Burdet. Is it as one hopes? She asked. It is, your Ladyship, he answered. Very well. We must get to work. Inform the senior staff - Echidna - they all will know of its meaning, and if not, they are simply not worthy by rank. Remember, Mr. Bagnold, we are now staff to the Madame President of the Northern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic, commanded Burdet. She moved swiftly, yet maintained her dignity, through the cold Jacobean halls of Sigeberht House, where only the dull glow of the early spring sun gave illumination of her passage. On the solid door of the Countess Bedroom did Burdet knock twice, allowed the noise to reverberate, and then entered. Lady Anne Siward the Countess of Londinjou was sitting up in her bed awake, allowing her Private Secretary to approach. The letter of result, Countess, I believe you shall be pleased, informed Burdet as she handed the unopened letter to Lady Anne Siward. Pleased? Questioned the Countess absently, no doubt not entirely awake, as she moved out of her bed. Yes, Madame President, spoke Burdet with a curtesy, and informing much. The Countess turned over the letter, inspecting its return address and wax seal, before calmly opening it. I see, she muttered reservedly.

Not a minute after seven o'clock did the Countess of Londinjou vacate the Countess Bedroom and make her way downstairs. Unlike at Underwood Plantation, despite a large family, and much larger staff, there was to be no frenzy, rather, it was all rather orchestrated with rigid etiquette. It was not unusual that the Countess observed a quiet, seemingly empty stately pile, it was simply the proper thing that staff were not seen. Lady Anne Siward passed through the Yellow Gallery, past the portrait of the Second Countess of Londinjou, who she never ceased to remind herself was the last and greatest Countess of Londinjou to occupy a political office, herself in the 18th century. Passing the impressively large portrait of the Second Countess, with its thoroughly well painted porcelain skin, opulence of silks, jewels and symbolism of wealth and power, Lady Anne Siward perceived it as the standard in which she must exceed. She had caught a glimpse of herself in a mounted mirror framed in gold gilding. Her cheeks were as alabaster as the ornaments that decorated her dynastic palace, and her blue eyes were sombre. It was difficult to say she was dressed like a President, but like a Queen. The ideas of Monarchy were repugnant to Engells, even more so to the aristocracy, but the majesty and opulence of regal dignity were not a monopoly held by Kings - a belief jealously held and guarded within the Republic. Not too different from, her now-counterpart in the South, Lady Seraphina Underwood, the Countess was attired in a dark blue dress that was, as said, less republican and more appropriate to the courtly form prevalent in the North; an off-shoulder blue shot silk dress, with a layer of misty blue-grey silk net over it, giving the whole appearance a diaphanous quality, with its high waist and full skirt, but absence of jewels, it had a somewhat historically republican charm to it, you should say. When she reached the top of the great staircase, the Countess turned back to see her Private Secretary and Lady-in-Waiting, Lady Mabel Burdet, stood not far down the hall. Madame President, she spoke before delivering a low, respectful courtesy.

At the foot of the stairs, she paused. The delegation were behind the doors to the Gallery of Mirrors, an addition her forebears desired to be built, having been impressed upon by the splendour of the original in Bourgogne. Standing, as she did, before the doors without any impulse to proceed ahead, or take a step back, just to stand at that moment, the Countess suddenly discovered she was not alone. She heard the heavy thuds of Uhtred's paws as he came down the stone staircase. A great beast of a breed, that arrived in Engellex hundreds of years ago from the Far North Toyou by traders; with its assortment of really dark coloured and white fur coat and plumed well-furred tail, the breed was now known as the Londinjou Malamute. Bred for power and endurance, they have become symbolic of the House of Siward and worthy of their own portrait gallery in Sigeberht House. Uhtred was no different, standing as he did thirty inches tall and weighing nearly one-hundred pounds, he looked up to his Master and Countess - ready to serve and defend. The sense of immediate empowerment was itself subtle and carried with grace, much unlike steel or gun. With her loyal Uhtred by her side, the Countess walked toward the doors. She was the President of the North now, second only to the Lord Protector.

At last, the Countess nodded to the two footmen attending to the doors to the Gallery of Mirrors, and they were opened; Lady Anne Siward and Uhtred pressed forward. The Gallery of Mirrors exists as a vast reception room where Earls and Countesses of Londinjou play Court in the fiercely rigid system of the aristocrat's republic. It was on the strength of the emerging Engellexian Republic in the 18th century that the aristocratic dynasties of Engellex declared their republic an absolute victory - with expanding trade, empire, and confidence in arms - and to commemorate such an era, many commissioned projects of great magnificence, and many of them were inspired on those which belonged to the Republic's greatest competitors. For the Siwards, la Galerie des Glaces in Bourgogne was to be theirs. And it was. Above the head of the Countess was one of the most elaborately decorated ceilings in the Republic, painted by the famous Engell, Charlotte Le Brunte. It conveyed the glory, as they saw it, of conquests made, historical and contemporary, in Himyar and at home by the House of Siward. The painted ceiling and gold gilding, lit by the glow of the early spring sun, reflected as it did on every surface - silver chandeliers and candelabra, the furnished solid silver consoles and, of course, the nearly five-hundred mirrors mounted parallel to the windows, that were framed by pilasters and gilding. The Deputy Lieutenant of Angellex, a grey-haired old man of aristocratic birth, appeared emotionally overcome as he bowed so low in deference to the radiance of the approaching President of the North, that his elderly body trembled. The six other Deputy Lieutenants, each representing one of the Northern Constituent Republics, followed in bowing to the Countess. It is my humble pleasure to inform you that the free citizens of the Northern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic were decided in electing you their President, spoke Lord Thomas Pratt, the Deputy Lieutenant of Angellex. Lady Anne Siward looked upon the grey faces of the lords and ladies kneeling before her. A wonderfully enlightened people, remarked the Countess absently, in thanks to those who voted for her. It then fell to silence and became a little awkward. Lady Anne Siward pulled her shoulders back and stuck her chin in the air, a less than subtle assertion of her known somewhat steely demeanour. You have my permission to withdraw, she declared, faintly aloof. Suddenly Lord Thomas Pratt bowed his head again, Madame President. She kept her face as still as humanly possible as the Deputy Lieutenants bowed and proceeded to walk backwards out of the gallery.

Half-passed eleven. The hall was dark, the air stale, when the Countess of Londinjou entered, her face glowing with the crisp cold air of the spring day. The oppression, the stench of age, made themselves immediately known. For a moment, Lady Anne Siward could see little, only hear the low drone of mutter from civil servants, lords and ladies in the greater hall beyond hers. She had not been in this particular hall of Croy House, the Ducal Hall, and the coldness of it, the magnificent stone pillars reaching to a thirty-meter ceiling, the hastily arranged palatial furnishings that seemed markedly out of place in an otherwise austere hall sparsely decorated by frescoes from the fourteenth century, was a sombre awakening for the Countess. Hundreds of years had passed, but the bitter, bloodied divorce from the Tiburan Catholic Church was hauntingly evident in this former Croye Cathedral; much had not changed in this building, as was the case with most former Christian buildings, kept as antique relics to remind of an oppressed past, regardless of their present usage. Croy House, however, was turned over to public use as assembly rooms*, but it has now been honoured with being the seat of the Assembly of the Northern Constituent Republics; nestled within the heart of the ancient port city and former Frankish administrative capital of Kinghithe, the people were honoured.

A large number of lords and ladies in the Great Hall were muttering, and picking at the rich silk damask robes, of either sapphire, crimson or gold, that they were wearing, along with their courtly full-bottomed powdered wigs. Lord Howard Jarndyce, the new Lord Governor of Hammersmith, went to stand by the Lord Lieutenant of Angellex and asked in a low voice if the Lord Speaker and Keeper had been sent for. The Lord Lieutenant said he had. It has been a great shock for him. The Republic has endured great crisis, but for the Hammersmiths and the Revolutionaries, and suddenly we have elected the most reactionary leaderships of over two centuries. Lord Howard Jarndyce nodded, I know. Suddenly the Duchess of Kew, the former Lady Chancellor, entered wearing robes of gold trimmed with black lace. She slowly looked around the assembled in the Great Hall, the Republic is not dying, she spoke clearly, with an air of mockery. It cannot die yet. I was told that the Northern Frontier Territory shall be annexed in my honour - Rosamundi - or so, something of that ambition, she informed very matter-of-fact. Where is the Countess of Londinjou? The Duchess of Kew asked before turning her head to the direction of the adjoining hall, what is - is that chamber? The Lord Lieutenant of Angellex turned to the confused duchess, that is where the Countess is making her preparations, he answered in a low voice, and added, it is apparently called the Ducal Hall. The new Master-of-the-Mace of Croy House entered the Great Hall, from the adjoining Ducal Hall, and after only after a short pause raised the banner of the House of Siward, and heralded, the Lady Anne Siward, Countess of Londinjou, President of the Northern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic. There was a tense silence and then every man and woman knelt. Few here, but those of the First Republic following, felt anything positive toward the Countess, for they had seldom seen Lady Anne Siward within the Senate, where they would or should have formed some political attachment. The Countess of Londinjou was known for being a keen traveller, from continental Gallia-Germania for leisure, or Engell Himyar for matters of business. To many lords and ladies it was a little unexpected, for the Countess seemed to seldom have leisure for the politics of the Republic, just business. But she apparently did, and this mattered now.

The Duchess of Kew looked up impertinently and saw the Countess of Londinjou calmly enter the great hall of stone colonnades that rose forty-five-meters to a golden roof, the Countess' gaze fixed on the assembled stage where she shall address them all. The procession, led by the Master-of-the-Mace, was made of many colourful heraldic banners in pairs behind the Countess; it was quite an unparallelled sight as it made its way down the Great Way of Engel-Sassex runed floor in the Great Hall, that was brilliantly but dimly lit by majestic chandeliers of antique crystal. The rose window that crowned Croy House, despite having a thirty-seven meter circumference, had its gothic majesty subdued by the mighty banners of Echidna that hung either side like tremendous pillars of colour; the first, immediately left and right of the rose window, was the vertical banner of the Republic; the second, the standard of the President of the North, a black cerberus on a field of gold; and the third, the standard of Siward, the golden malamute on a crimson banner. The procession continued up the Great Way until the Countess of Londinjou stepped into the natural illumination of the sun that poured through the rose window, and onto the Great Way, where she paused. It had grown so silent that the Duchess of Kew could hear her own heart beating. Then, hundreds and hundreds, nearly thousands, of lords, ladies, and gentlemen rose to their feet and drew closer upon the stage that the Countess now continued in approach. Upon the stage all the necessary equipment had been already established, for an address and broadcast over the wires.

This is Croy House, declared the EBC announcer over the wires to the Engellexian Republic. This follows an important address from the first elected President of the Northern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic - Madame President, Lady Anne Siward, the Countess of Londinjou.

A few hours ago, started the Countess, to the people within and throughout the Republic. I was charged with the first duty, as the first President of the Northern Constituent Republics.

And as I have been informed of the victory to the Office of the President of the Southern Constituent Republics, by my friend and ally, Lady Seraphina Underwood, my first words to you all must be to declare my allegiance to the Engellexian Republic - the First Republic. She paused. This I do with all my heart.

We all know the reasons that have compelled you all to the choosing of mine, and Lady Seraphina Underwood's election. We have all found it impossible, unacceptable, that our - former - political class and system was unable to shoulder the burden and responsibility, in discharging their duties as leaders of our Republic.

Those burdens and responsibilities, in accepting them as my own, was made a less difficult decision by the sure knowledge of the urgency, realised by so many of you - by us, facing our Republic.

I am your President in the North, she declared as she drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin to the air. You, my constituents - my people - your happiness, your prosperity, and your freedom are my duties to uphold and defend in oath, that I swear, with all my heart.

This is a new era, the First era - Our era.

Echidna* - the designated name of political campaign and profile of the Countess of Londinjou, the President of the Northern Constituent Republics.

 

[Great Engellex]

Dulwich, Angellex, Engellexian Republic 2 April 1957

The Lord Speaker and Keeper, Lord Thomas Bartlett the Viscount Bartlett, had recalled all of the Electors of the Republic, including amongst them every Lord Governor of the Southern Constituent Republics, and in the place of them was the new, flexing authority of the President in the North and the President in the South.

By the crisp, sunny afternoon of April 2 1957, Viscount Bartlett proceeded on his way to the opening of the Electors Convention at Montfichet's Castle in Dulwich, the popularity of electing a Lord Protector had never seemed higher. Opposition to nationalism, as everyone knew, was stronger and more vociferous in Dulwich than anywhere in the Republic, yet here were crowds greater than any since - well, since most living memories. Further, they appeared in the greatest of spirits, as even the Dulwich Guardian took note. Their looks spoke of peace and good humour; there was no hissing, no quarrel; the elected Lord Protector could feel secure in the affection of his people.

A boom of cannons saluted the Lord Speaker and Keeper's arrival at Montfichet's Castle, a twelveth century fortress that dominates the eastern districts of the capital, and with the traditional welcoming formalities performed for his office, Viscount Bartlett assumed his place on a throne of sorts at the head of the Chamber of Lords, flanked by the Master-of-the-Mace and the Master-of-the-Privy-Letters, both in crimson robes of State. The Electors of the Republic, those eleven Lord Lieutenants and Lord Governors, for whom no seats were provided, remained standing within the hall. The magnitude of the moment was lost on no one. As expected, the Lord Speaker and Keeper's address to the Electors would be one of the most important ever delivered by one of that office. Despite that, everyone knew this would be brief. The constituents throughout the Republic have made their views and opinions known, from the voting at nomination conventions to voting in the election, what was left were mere formalities. Unless, of course, a Lord Lieutenant or Lord Governor decided against democratic accountability, and voted against the Protectorship Instrument. But that was unlikely. The medieval Chamber of Lords was impressive in its austere simplicity, but its thin, cold air had all hoping to be done with this business.

My Lords, Ladies, spoke the Lord Speaker and Keeper, from his elevated chair of dark oak. We meet to consider questions of this greatest moment. The European Competitors of the Republic have demonstrated to us, and our people, their severe, aggressive policies. Many States in our part of Europe have already fallen, overrun, and those that remain stand stupefied by ever greater threats of Revolution.

And, he continued, to crown this reasoning to you all - reasoning that were officially made to me by delegates of your respective Constituent Assemblies - they did conspire to revolutionise the criminal underclass, and overthrow our Republic, and all her democratic traditions and freedoms. I should add, my Lords and Ladies, that I was petitioned by both the President of the Northern Constituent Republics, and President of the Southern Constituent Republics, he added further as he took out two official letters addressed to him. Legally speaking, you are not obliged to consider such petitions as per the constitution, but I do feel - given this great moment - that I should convey their message. Viscount Bartlett pauses, his old eyes squinting over the black words on the ivory paper before him. Madame President Anne Siward urges the Electors to give a sincere consideration to the fact that at this moment, one of our most unstable, but military capable Competitors, is presently engaged in war mere miles from Gewissex. A war of expansion. I am sure, he continued as he folded that letter away, that you are all well informed on such matters. The Lord Governor of Camden and the Lord Lieutenant of Hammersmith exchanged glances demonstrating a mutual understanding of the severity that the President sought to convey.

My Lords, Ladies, Madame President Seraphina Underwood underlines the reasons put forward, simply urging myself to remind you all that these reasons are just for affecting the Protectorship Instrument, Viscount Bartlett concluded.

Madame President Seraphina Underwood is most certainly right, interjected the Lord Governor of Camden. We have every reason to be decided in the electing of the Lord Protector today. I have long warned the councils of this Republic on the ambitions of our most hostile Competitors, it is just unfortunate that it has taken the failure and destruction of an attempted coup in our capital to have you all accept my word. Lord Henry Swann-Pryve's most vocal opposition, the Lord Governor of Henrietta, pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin, having recognised the direction of his accusation. Lord George Grey? Questioned Viscount Bartlett openly, permitting the Lord Lieutenant of Angellex his own interjection. I do agree with my Lord Swann-Pryce, the Lord Lieutenant answered, turning to his Camdenite counterpart and nodding. The Protectorship is an ancient and historic Instrument that this Republic maintained to use in times of great urgency, I believe this time is one of urgency, Lord George Grey concluded.

The Lord Speaker and Keeper's appearance before the Electors had lasted mere minutes, after which he departed Montfichet's Castle as peaceably as he went, for his official residence. The Electors within the Chamber of Lords filed out directly to their own designated chambers adjoining the hall, and some quiet debate on the reasonings commenced amongst a few. The Lord Governor of Henrietta, Lady Hillary Midler, marshalled the case for conciliation to herself, with consideration of breaking with democratic will.

The last Elector, the Lord Lieutenant of Gewissex, Lady Caroline Venables-Bertie, delivered her wax-sealed vote to the Master-of-the-Privy-Letters. Just over an hour since Viscount Bartlett departed, the votes had been decided and sealed with wax. The Master-of-the-Privy-Letters was now tasked in opening, certifying, counting, and delivering the votes to the Lord Speaker and Keeper.

 

[Great Engellex]

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Drake and Lord-Protector Standards​

Londinjou, Angellex, Engellexian Republic 17 April 1957

Lady Mabel Burdet, the Private Secretary and Lady-in-Waiting to the Northern President, knocked and then entered the Closet Library at Sigeberht House. The Closet Library being anything but a closet, a name given in due of it being the smallest library at Sigeberht. The Air-General is on her way up to the Etheltine Room, Madame President, informed Lady Burdet. Sigeberht House, in absence of an official residence and office for the Northern Presidency, has become the defacto hive of everything official, and unofficial - but yet equally important and necessary, to the Countess of Londinjou in her capapcity as the Northern President. No doubt a suitable and worthy official residence will be found, or built in Kinghithe in the near future.

Madame President, you may or may not be aware, but this week it is expected to see the Lord-Protector elected, spoke Lady Burdet, as herself and the Countess passed through the corridors of the House toward the Etheltine Room. This week? Is it finally? How long has this been? The Countess queried. It has been too long, Madame President, answered Lady Burdet. I wanted to inform you that we are well prepared for the transition. The departments formed to.. handle, both the Lord Protector and the Southern President, and the deputies well groomed and awaiting instruction, she continued. Two deputies.. for each of those departments, is that correct? Asked the Countess absently. Yes, Madame President. A principal and a senior, answered Lady Burdet. An heir and a spare, quipped the Countess loftily. Lady Burdet smiled in agreement.

In the Etheltine Room, only a minutes later, Air-General Admiral Catherine Janeway was suddenly pulled from her own mindful absence that she had delved in as a consequence of the needed patience from awaiting the Northern President. The rude clamour of the rather antique solid door did reverberate throughout the cold, austere room, leaving the Air-General with little choice but to swiftly stand to attention. Air-General, I am terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, spoke the Countess of Londinjou as she came marching in, across the hardwooden floors to her choice seat - a very stiff, and very tall green leather armchair. Not at all, Madame President, replied Admiral Janeway, a little unsure. The Countess thanked her Private Secretary, Lady Burdet, who understood the notion to depart alongside the footman. Holding out her right hand, the Countess allowed the Air-General to kiss the presidential ring - a piece of jewellery and symbol of office that will be gifted to each president with the style and design of their choice; Lady Seraphina Underwood was decided on the pear-cut, 4.39 carats yellow diamond (Tear of Himyar) set in a platinum ring bearing her officialdom; the Countess, an especially minted platinum sovereign ring. Please do begin, instructed the Northern President as she took her seat. One item, Madame President, spoke Admiral Catherine Janeway as she looked from the closing door to the Countess, overshadows all on our agenda, moreso than the Lord Protectorship. The Borovangians and their civil war with the Revolutionary surge. It is vital that the Republic acts swiftly - for delay has been quite too much, to secure peace. We Engells should spearhead this.. new effort, and do everything to secure Borovanger as a republican frontier. The President nodded, quite right. The Republic has historically been the last power anyone wanted interested in the squabbles of Gallia, Germania - and we have traditionally been content with that.. position, given our interests and our burdens of the Thaumantic region. But it would appear.. yes? That our partners on the continent are quite unsuccessful or simply absent in this civil struggle.. that rages in naked sight from Gewissex? The Air-General nodded silently. That is terribly, terribly unacceptable, remarked the Countess with a cool reserve. There is now the greatest danger that Serenierre has acted decidedly to run this show through a veil of informal intervention. An absolute disaster, Madame President; and for all the obvious reasons, the Republic cannot remain aloof, advised Admiral Catherine Janeway.

Bourgogne is a great, old Empire that should demand - and deserves respect, spoke the Countess. The behaviour of the Revolutionary States.. speaking with such loud, flippant voices, and waving around their sticks of violent revolution, in the matters of European governance. To say they are not ready would be putting it rather lightly, she continued. No, I shall not say they will become learned or accustomed to the proper manners of civilised government, because they are not civilised governments. They are violent, and they are thugs. They are in need of an experienced, elder power to check their primitive aggressions. It is quite unfortunate, however, that Bourgogne is politically incapable of schooling Serenierre in this regard. The Air-General agreed completely with the President. To that end, Madame President, I do seek your permission to ask the Admiral-General and the Captain-Generals to meet in Dulwich, to formulate plans for an intervention by the Republic in to Borovanger. This war summit would be an open, and quite frank discussion on a unified and direct approach, on how to check the expansion of the Revolutionaries in Gallia, informed the Air-General with an air of gravity. Do you believe the Firsts are.. up to it? Queried the Countess. Ma'am? The Air-General asked, confused. The First Republic and Continental Armies, the Countess clarified. The First Republic.. and the First Continental Army are among the finest - if not the finest armies in Europe, Madame President, responded the Air-General defensively. Yes, quite. But they are also rather small. I would hate to think that a conflict would be entered, and be beyond the capability of our fine armies, Air-General, spoke the Countess with even greater clarity of concern. The land forces of the Republic are fine, Madame President. I can assure you of that. Any intervention would be on the back of the Air Force - and supported by both the Armies and the Navy, assured the Air-General. Right, I see that. Given.. the Countess began somewhat unsure, with glances out, beyond the glass panes of the tall windows, the constitutional powers and limitations.. I can only authorise a lay of plans.. strategies for theoretical conflicts, interventions.. The power to any course of action remains with the Engellexian Republic Parlement or, soon, with the Lord-Protector. Admiral Catherine Janeway nodded an understanding of the limited reality. Of course, Viscount Drake (Lord-Protector candidate) will be in the know - as the Admiral-General of the Republic, but I shall need to inform President Seraphina Underwood. The Countess paused and returned her observation to the Air-General. But with that understanding, Air-General, of the theoretical nature of such plans, and how prudent it may prove in having them made, I believe.. Very well, you may proceed, concluded the Northern President, Countess Anne Siward.

TWO days later, in Dulwich the capital of the Engellexian Republic, the Senate sat for an extraordinary meeting.

Order. Order, my Lords, Ladies. Order, called the Lord Speaker and Keeper, Lord Thomas Bartlett the Viscount Bartlett. Every one-hundred-fifty Senators were present and seated. Within the glittering magnificence of the immense ballroom, of white marble, colonnades and gold gilding, where above their heads hung colossal chandeliers that glistened and sparkled, was the mood, the atmosphere particularly formal and dignified, it was solemn. Despite the temporary relocation of the Senate to Lollardy House, one of the grandest of the Dulwich mansions, it still carried with it the greatest sense and respect of tradition and ceremony. Quite like the original, former chamber of the Senate, the finely crafted seating and desks had been arranged in the typical semi-circular fashion, with the Lord Speaker and Keeper center, before them all. He was sat high, above them all, in the black silk damask robe of state that was exquisitely trimmed with gold, and above it all the courtly full-bottomed powdered wig. To the left and right, of the Vscount Bartlett, hung the huge Colours of the Republic - the colourful stripes of Engellex. Order was called, and order was made. The Senators, themselves in their own rich robes of crimson and, occasionally, gold, had given the Lord Speaker and Keeper their full and utmost attention. I have received the final tabulations of the Electors, which I will now read to you, spoke the Viscount Bartlett cooly. He proceeded to open the wax-sealed official envelope, and had a moment in utter silence to read its contents. The contents was absolutely expected, being only one candidate, but the event of electing a new Lord-Protector was itself tense and extraordinary. From the Lord Lieutenant of Angellex.. Admiral Walter Drake the Viscount Drake. From the Lord Governor of Camden.. Admiral Walter Drake the Viscount Drake. From the Lord Lieutenant of Gewissex.. the Lord Speaker and Keeper continued to deliver the results, in the same formal style, with the order made alphabetically according the name of the Constituent Republic.

From the Lord Lieutenant of Westellex.. Admiral Walter Drake the Viscount Drake. That was the last result, and it meant that the electing of the Viscount Drake to the Lord Protectorship was unanimous throughout the Republic. The Lord Speaker and Keeper sat the letter down carefully on his high desk, and sat back, his eyes falling upon the Admiral-General of the Republic, the Viscount Drake. Proudly, but without haste, the Senators rose to their feet to applaud the Viscount Drake; he himself remained seated, and was without strong emotion or agitation, but held admirable reserve. Your Mightiness, Lord-Protector Lord Drake, declared the Lord Speaker and Keeper with a gentle thunder in his elderly voice. The Admiral-General, and now Lord-Protector - though he needs to be inaugurated, was given the floor of the Senate to address and speak to his fellow Lords and Ladies. He proceeded to stand.

Lord Speaker and Keeper, addressed the Viscount Drake, with a respectful bow of his head to the Viscount Bartlett before him. And my fellow Lords and Ladies of the Senate, he continued, turning round to face them all and, again, deliver a bow of marked respect. A gesture of humility, and of course respect, that was widely admired by all in that ballroom. Employed, as I have been, in the service of this Republic within her navy, and within her councils and committees of war and State, I was especially fortunate to witness our Constitution operate in all its dignified and, quite often, tedious glory - and almost always with a backdrop of my engagements abroad. He paused, and observed everyone of the Senate. It works.. he continued, with a noticeably greater energy and enthusiasm, because our Constitution brings together a unity of good heads and good hearts. It works today, sparking the most fantastic deliberations of politics and society within our Parlement, and Assemblies, with a regularity and energy that draws the envy of Europe. It does that today, as was done the days preceding the independence and declarations of our noble Republic. It works today, as it worked on the first. Again he paused, the Senate absolutely committed to and in silence at the Viscount Drake.

As a brave experiment of our 16th century forefathers, that has been found better suited to the wisdom, disposition, and circumstance of Engellex and her people, than of any which had ever been suggested, proposed, or imposed upon us. And those, he said turning to the Duchess of Kew and then the Lord Speaker and Keeper, as two people familiar with those events, that were attempted to be imposed upon us. What other form of government, indeed. What other form can so well deserve our esteem and love. A government in which the executive, as well as all the other branches of the legislature, are exercised by free citizens that are selected at regular, constituted periods, by their equally free neighbours, to make and execute laws for the general good, he said with a subtle crescendo of voice and gesturing of hands. Is authority when it is founded by accidents and from institutions established in remote antiquity (monarchy) - or authority that is seized by manufactured ideology itself founded in a vacuum by the pronounced ignorance of uneducated masses (communism), more amiable or respectable than when it is founded youthful and with vigour from the character and intelligence of a forthright and enlightened people? The spirit of the Senate was rising, as more and more Senators found themselves nodding silently, resisting the urge to voice their agreement.

For over thirty years this Republic has been under the administrations of citizens from here, and the other place (Bare Commons), that had indeed endured long, great and difficult courses of action - to preserve and prosper our society in a time of unyielding trial - regulated by prudence, justice, fortitude and resignation. A time when the enemies of liberty, of democratic civilization, were mobilized by the evil of their ideology to assault our free and enlightened people, our Republic, and the freedoms and ideas jealously guarded by both; those free citizens succeeded in preserving and prospering Engellex. The Viscount Drake had paused again, allowing those Lords and Ladies to voice their hear, hears, having failed to resist any longer a patient silence. Those citizens, some of which are in this room, and many, many others which no longer are, most definitely merit the full gratitude of all their fellow and free citizens, for the continued liberties and wealth we all, here, do possess.

And with their great example before me, and with the conviction and distinction of the Engell people, upon which I have so often hazarded my all and never have deceived. I make to you all these solemn, committed promises, to seek and apply justice at all times and to all peoples of Europe; to endeavour for the preservation of peace, liberty, and civilisation for all those in Europe that cherish and hope for them; and to lay myself under the most unconditional, heartfelt obligations to uphold the liberty, the Constitution, and the independence of the Engellexian Republic, the First Republic, to the utmost of my power. His words drew wide applause, forcing the Viscount Drake in to a brief pause.

And when that time arrives, he thundered, fist clenched and coming to crescendo, as your Lord-Protector, to evaluate this time as a success, or failure, I do make this guarantee - to render the name of our country, Engellex, a rampart, and the freedoms and liberties of our Republic a bulwark against all open, or secret, enemies of the Engell people and their lands! The Senate erupted in to applause, everyone - one by one - rising to their feet, in support and thanks.

 

[Great Engellex]

ELEPHANT & CASTLE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

FRIDAY, 29 SEPTEMBER 1957, it seemed scarcely a moment since she had sat down on the sofa opposite her husband, having endured a day of excess, yet already the morning sun was intruding on that moment of peace. It poured through the dramatic half-moon fan window and began to cast the brightest, fanned illuminations across the dark wood floors and on to the walls of two-toned blue silk damask. Seraphina Underwood closed her eyes, tired and irritated, resenting the unwanted timing - the gold, crystal, and mirror of the furnishings glittered and sparkled like some over-indulged cave of Pelasgian origin. The past few months had been hard, with weeks of discreet political obstruction from the Lord Governor of Elephant and Castle, too many nights of too little sleep, and her body ached from the distraction that stretched and pulled her too tightly between the dis-organisation of the Southern Constituent Republics Congress.

They cannot proceed forward on the new residence with him in control, spoke Lord Tywin Underwood, arms crossed as he sat staring out through the fan window, exhausted. The Lord Governor of Elephant and Castle graciously volunteered to provide prestigious and efficient leadership to the Southern Congressional and Presidential Commission of Construction - to design the grand buildings for the new institutions, find and purchase the land for them, and build them. Graciously volunteered, and even more so gracious was his insistence on the Southern Constituent Republics Congress and President adopting Elephant and Castle for their seat, or, at least, that was the outward and public impression the Lord Governor desired. The South's most ablest man, in the safest of hands. Well, they could not have accepted the most unsafe hands, should they have desired. Now, we remain here, Tywin Underwood continued, defeated in exasperation.

The Lord Governor guarded with a veiled jealousy his power and position, not just within the greatest metropolis in southern Himyar, but within the Southern Constituent Republics, as the prime Lord Governor. The new institutions for the hemispherical level of government, in the South, had been movingly invited to Elephant and Castle, the natural seat for such a level of government, but their own efforts to organise and centralise for effective administration were frustratingly thwarted. The dense urbanscape of the combined metropolis of Elephant and Castle provided excellent cover for a Lord Governor who desired to cast the multitude of new institutions across the map, as to render them inefficient, small, and with limited clout. How long has it been since your election? Tywin asked absently before pausing, and then adding, everything that was achieved. For nothing, as we are confined here.

The President of the Southern Constituent Republics herself, Seraphina Underwood, had become isolated and diminished within the constricted confines of the Princely Suites, at the Imperial States Hotel. Admittedly, the hotel dripped with luxury and privileged over-indulgence, and with it occupying the entirety of the City Investing Building* - the tallest skyscraper in Elephant and Castle - Seraphina Underwood, from the Princely Suites that themselves occupied the top six stories, held a Queenly gaze over the metropolis. The establishment of the Presidential Office and Household within the finest accommodations of the city may appear, to those ignorant of society and politics there, especially generous and respectful of the Lord Governor, however, it was anything but. Castle was where politics and society had established itself over the centuries, not Elephant. The Southern President was caught in an attempt of banishment, unable to take ownership of her position and new powers to the fullest extent, as promised by her election.

I feel.. deprived, spoke Seraphina Underwood, tired but determined. Tywin nodded, yes. The Southern President opened her eyes. She was still wearing the scarlet wool crepe dress that she attended her afternoon and evening duties in on the day before. Her hair remained immaculate. She stared at her husband. Time passed by, ten minutes, fifteen, in silence before, we need to make the people build it, firmed Seraphina softly.

Her eyes feel upon a short stack of recent newspapers on the antique tea table between them, they were utterly without emotion. The days' papers, many of them, focused on the Lord Governor declaring his disappointment that Elephant and Castle is yet to have sufficient land for such buildings - the typical neo-classical structures of size and grandeur, but declared that his generosity to the Presidential family will be maintained, in gratitude to their patience. The newspapers adored the Lord Governor. A Queen either controls the Lords and barons (newspaper) or will be controlled by them. Only power maintains order over the First Republic, and as of this day, the power lies with them (Lords and newspaper barons), spoke Seraphina.

We cannot eliminate everything that he (Lord Governor) has and will put before us, Tywin. But if we are to make this - now, then we make it work for us, she continued. Her husband pulled his stare from the fan window, a new campaign? He asked. No, she answered. Congress? He asked further, confused. Supremacy, she informed, with a quiet and gentle voice. Tywin Underwood remained in silence, he was not as swift as Seraphina.

The people of Elephant and Castle need to be brought to heel. The Lord Governor conspires against us, and he and his people behave as if this city were a home, their possession, she said calmly, turning her eyes to her husband. None know how to address the Presidential Family, nor, even, themselves. They do not behave in Elephant and Castle - the seat of the Southern Constituent Republics Congress and President. She paused, and drew observations from the awakening city from beyond the fan window. They will all need to understand their place and status. Behave as they should. An obedience, unbreakable, to the bedlam, the war, fear, and adoration, as a given instruction by the baron (newspaper), said Seraphina. Including the President? Scoffed Tywin. Especially the President, and who better to instruct the President than her own husband? She smiled.

Tywin Underwood shifted forward in his seat, trying to arrive upon the meaning of his wife's words. I.. do not follow you? He responded, still in thought and confusion. Controlled by the barons? He added a minute after. No, she answered. Just one baron. You, she continued. Only now was it quite making some sense to Tywin. Supremacy, she uttered again, but with renewed determination. Supremacy can work quite well for us, she said, still watching out the window. Tywin slowly relaxed back in to the sofa, confident. Yes, he replied with assurance.

The Penny Republic? He suggested with an air of mockery, perhaps to the cheapness of power, or as an appropriate name for the new, sole news publication in the South, an Underwood publication.

Yes, answered Seraphina.

City Investing Building* - using the RL New York building for context and atmosphere.

 

[Great Engellex]

DULWICH
NORTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS
ENGELLEXIAN REPUBLIC​

THE DAY OF THE FIRST SESSION OF THE INTERNATIONAL OPEN FORUM, Ambassador, I still do not quite see why this complaint has been made at such level, to us, spoke Lord Benjamin Boxer, Chairman of the Foreign Affairs Joint Committee. The ambassador, of the Holy See of Tibur, was standing in the middle of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling above was inlaid with a silver gilding of the European map - the Engellexian Republic, and her former reach, inlaid with gold; the major cities of Europe were all depicted through diamonds, the biggest reserved for Dulwich, there was quite a heavenly dazzle and sparkle to it all. The walls on every side were paneled in dark wood and had rows, upon rows of benches rising up, higher and higher, at the top end of the room. It was the the Foreign Affairs Joint Committee. There was fifty-one of them, all, as far as any foreign ambassador could see, wearing crimson-coloured robes, and all staring down their noses at the ambassador, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank disappointment. In the middle of the front row sat Lord Benjamin Boxer, the Chairman.

With respect, your Mightiest Sovereign Lords, the man was a citizen of Tibur, residing in Roanoke (Camden, SoCRER) under the jurisdiction of the local Engell government, which makes his ill treatment an offence against both governments. I am instructed to bring it to the attention of the Engell Republic, so that some redress may be found.. The ambassador had evidently worked himself up into a righteous courage, with a poor sense of how he were to achieve redress, this was the First Republic, not Eiffelland. Lord Benjamin Boxer shifts his bulk delicately on his chair, tutting under his not so quiet breath. He should be enjoying a calm moment before his adventure to the wilds of Kashtan, not listening to the moans of an inbred Tiburan aristocrat.

.. I should remind you, your Mightiest Sovereign Lords, of the details. Not only were this man's tongue removed and he hanged from a tree, but they then exhibited his tongue - and Bible - throughout the market square. Before his unfortunate.. quick drop, his inaudible screams could be heard all over the high street and market, spoke the ambassador. Hmm, indeed. That does sound quite unpleasant. And you're sure this was the work of endorsement and encouragement of the Agency for the Interception of Dangerous Speakers? asked Lord Boxer, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. The ambassador throws up his hands involuntarily. It is quite common knowledge, most certainly it is, he replied, unable to keep the disbelief from his voice.

Well, be assured an investigation will no doubt have been opened by the local constabulary in Roanoke. However, Lord Boxer said before pausing for dramatic effect. However, ambassador, this citizen of Tibur is not entirely innocent, or hardly blameless. From what we have gathered, in such terribly short notice, he was engaged throughout Roanoke and the surrounding country of speaking the most outrageous vitriol against the progressive character of the Constitution of the First Republic, but also of a hope of establishing Papal Dominion within the Southern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic. The ambassador spluttered a but. How much saliva of outrage must be sprayed in this lavishly decorated hall by Tibur's ambassadors? Thought Boxer. The points of the argument he was reciting were known and regularly, and openly recited by all throughout Europe. In Tibur, even, we hear them, spoke the ambassador. A marvel, ambassador, truly. However, I would hope the government of your great and enduring State had better things to do than to encourage sedition in the Southern Constituent Republics, responded Lord Boxer flatly. The other members of the Foreign Affairs Joint Committee were muttering.

Let there be clarity between the Foreign Affairs Joint Committee and yourself, ambassador. The points of argument that you refer - made throughout Europe, apparently - we all know to be nothing but open sentiments of aggression against the continued existence of our Constitution that itself protects the harmony and hedonism of our Angelli-Lexen society, a progressive cultivation without parallel in Europe, achieved only through the uncompromising adherence to the absolute abandonment of religion - all religion. I would venture, ambassador, to add that had such.. such barbary been argued against your fictional book of Tibur Dominion within the borders of your fine State, you would have already lit a pyre under any man who repeated it so publicly. It pains the Foreign Affairs Joint Committee assembled to even have to hear it referred to again. The ambassador lowers his eyes. He has said what he came to say, what remains in just theatre. He continued to look up at the benches where the entire Foreign Affairs Joint Committee had fallen into urgent, whispered conversations. Lord Boxer was hardly muttering a word, no, he was contemplating matters a little more worthy of his time, the International Open Forum.

Then the whispering stopped. Those in favour of redress for the deplorable murder of Father Thomas Wolsey? Said Lord Benjamin Boxer's booming voice. There were some hands in the air, but not very many - three. And those in favour of clearing the Agency for the Interception of Dangerous Speakers of all charges? Boxer said with equal authority. Forty-eight hands. The Master of Ceremonies was striding serenely across the hall, wearing his own long but black robes, and with a perfectly statue-like expression of calm. He escorted the ambassador out.

 

[Great Engellex]

The LORD of MISRULE
Part One

ELEPHANT & CASTLE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

MONDAY, 25 DECEMBER 2017,

In review of the condition of our Southern Constituent Republics, can this Congress not confess to a truly efficient and capable organisation of State and Civilisation, shaped as it is by our shared liberty and a prosperity - jealously considered by our neighbours, spoke Lady Hestia Emesa Moran.

And possessed of a wealth of resource, it is, from our Earth and our seas. This Congress can surely be well minded to a unity in the great need for the humility in charity to our fellow citizens? We must speak of their existing (monies).. but crumbs from the plenty of our table, for the poor and wretched. Will this Congress not act for them? Who shall? Lady Hestia Emesa Moran sat down.

Every day Congress sat she was present, a Congresswoman from Mary-le-Bone, quite a liberal. Lady Moran wanted a continental-style system of welfare for the Republic and considered the Southern Congress, and indeed the Northern and Parlement, lamentably irresolute on the matter, and held no reasonable expectation to actually achieve terms for such a system. Nonetheless, she was much relied upon to advocate welfare upon the lower classes, as much as could be reasonably argued, during the festive season - the two weeks of Lord of Misrule. There was natural support, of course there was, but the unicameral hemispherical Southern Congress was a curious assembly where much a distracting chorus of murmuring, passionate objection, and throaty chuckles provided any stranger to it the wrong perception to the sentiment of its members.

A strong, animated, argumentative appeal ought to be - and had sufficiently been addressed once before to this Congress, in objection, reminded the rising voice of carried authority and civility within the Ebon Chamber, Vice President Mathelda Ajogo.

Baroness Mathelda Ajogo, the personification of Nethian majesty tamed, enthroned upon the tallest chair, gothic in style, of ebony and gold construction, obeyed the duty of her office, and guaranteed everyone else did their's. The longest, most slender ebon fingers with painted claws of silver, caressed the arms of the throne when not directing the proceedings of Congress with a terribly languid demeanour. She is the darling of Fort Georgiou, southern Mary-le-Bone, and delivered a performance with unrivaled ascendancy; Southern President Seraphina Underwood, even, did well ensure to be strictly minded of the Southern Congress and its rules. Those concerns are especially considered when in the Ebon Chamber, the stirring hall where the Southern Congress sat assembled, high above the metropolis of Elephant and Castle - the 82nd floor of The Meridian, the edifice of government, of law and order, of it all. Their hall qualified for such a name by the character of its severe gothic furniture; benches crafted of ebony wood rising on either side of it to provide that pugnacious drama they craved, while the throne of the Vice President soared above all still, delivering a truly forbidding air to what is a cathedral of First Republican dominion.

Lord Aristobulius Rutledge, Duke of South Commageneca, who, at ninety-one, was popularly perceived to be the oldest, wisest head in the Southern Congress, which is entirely debatable, and the most influential, which is more likely, stood opposed to Lady Hestia Emesa Moran. But the Duke had no liking for debate within the chamber himself. He was patient, imperturbable, and at times sound asleep in his seat, the black toque of his congressional uniform struggling to stay atop his head. The Library records that he has in fact never argued a point. His grandson, however, did rise on many occasion to partake. Lord Gondulphus Rutledge, Baron of Samosatawk, one of the youngest members of Congress, at twenty-eight, was excellently dandified and overflowing with self-confidence.

The path of the Southern Constituent Republics upon this question is now straight before us, my fellow Congressmen and women, he declared, raising his precious cane of silver and ebony from just under his black congressional robes, to draw that much needed attention. Lady Hestia Emesa Moran, of Blue Lakes, Mary-le-Bone, has in a masterly manner once more recommended to Congress the distasteful gluttony of the lower classes! How many, indeed, clutch that hope to grow terribly fat and bloated on the Republic's public purse I do consider? I say, Congress - I do say, permit the poor and wretched an instruction on the virtues, and the good grace of their being Angelli-Lexen!

He paused at a sudden and slight hint of Vice President Mathelda Ajogo's displeasure, a truly lethargic movement of her right fingers to instill calm. The Ebon Chamber had, ever slightly, stirred; those who were conscientious, and those who just weren't.

My gratitude, Madame Vice President, Lord Gondulphus Rutledge declared while remaining pointedly courteous to all in the Ebon Chamber. I must speak out - assert the rights of others, and do suggest our remedies boldly, fearlessly, frankly, in conciliatory terms, but in the firmest spirit.

Spirit, he continued, of the Lord of Misrule, quite.

One billions additional, this year.. to be, it. The opposing members of Congress once again muttered, uttered, jeered, and decried his cheap charity. Furthermore! He shrilled. Will the Congresswoman of Blue Lakes respectfully give answer to this Congress on peerage? It must be seen that the lower classes are not furnished with further titles, unjustified.. to allow them a touch of our very own dignities! It will not stand - permit the poor and wretched an authority in the orderly organisation of this Republic, you will not!

Before the rigors of Congress could evolve to be too much, Vice President Mathelda Ajogo rose to speak.

The tallest of ladies, decidedly elegant; a lithe figure draped in a regal Art Deco-inspired navy and gold gown; coronated under the fusion of Nethian-Implarian culture, head-wear - no, a gilded crown of radiant gold, beneath which sleek kiss curls of her bright-white hair descended to shape both cheeks. Utterly theatrical and commanding in scale, a demonstrated magnificence to the binds of cultures within SoCRER; she is very much admired. The importance of that moment, however, was understood by all within the Ebon Chamber. Lord Gondulphus Rutledge was not foolish to linger on his feet, instead, taking his seat with a rigid formality, crossing his left leg over the right with sharp perfection; Lady Hestia Emesa Moran retreated similarly. But the Vice President did not speak.

It was time, now that the honest work of Congress was had. The Whips and their runners, lowly men and women of Congress, hurried pieces of papers to and from the leaders of the various factions, and their grandees, negotiating the finer details - pretty penny - and the conditions that are customarily attached. It was also here, where the humility and charity of the Southern Congress could truly be measured, the result of which will take time, but quickly to arrive in public print, it will.

 

[Great Engellex]

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The LORD of MISRULE
Part Two

ELEPHANT & CASTLE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

MONDAY, 25 DECEMBER 2017,

Welcome to the Meridian. Please state your name and business, spoke a smartly dressed woman, loudly, plainly. Officers of the Agency for the Interception of Dangerous Speakers, a few of them, watching closely from the background, that he could feel eyes burning into the back of his head. Er... invitation, said Juan Luis Arias, uncertain whether or not he should be there, but presenting his smart invitation anyway. It was addressed to him, and only him, and was sealed by blue wax and stamped by a Cerberus; it came from Southern President Seraphina Underwood's office. Thank you, spoke the woman with that bureaucratic voice of cool reserve. Mr. Juan Luis Arias, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your jacket. Juan looked down to find her handing him a small round, but solid gold badge with a stylised LoM on it. He pinned it to his black tailcoat, he was in white tie, and top hat; the invitation had been generous in funds for such a code, why? He hadn't a clue. Two huge, copper Art Deco doors, each depicting Lady Justice staring out with her sword before her, in a burst of radiant light, a warning, absolutely a warning to those who still practice the dark arts of dangerous worship of fiction, shuddered open. Juan watched apprehensively as men and women streamed through the members' entrances of the Meridian, himself about to enter that for strangers. It was quite dark, admittedly it was ten o'clock at night, when a sudden flash of the brightest light illuminated his entire self. How he, or anyone else, was not blinded remains a secret of scientific breakthrough no doubt; it was his photograph, it was taken, a torture every stranger to the Meridian endured, but where the camera was not many could work out. It was all a little different.

He found himself standing at one end of a very large concourse, the Circus of the First Republic.

Tens, hundreds of men and women, the lords, the ladies, and the gentlemen of Congress and Presidency of SoCRER, were pouring through it in swirls and swarms, eddies of them in couples, groups, and even the odd butterfly of determined social independence. Er.. have invitation, he found himself saying without confidence in his not so fluent Engelsh, his Gallegan accent particularly forward. Yes, you do, smiled a lady softly in a dazzling outfit of fringes, beads, diamonds, all held together by her black fur collar, and diamond headband. She placed a hand upon his shoulder impersonally as she spoke, drawing those fingers up toward his lips enticingly as she continued to move on, away; her waist being carried off by the hand of her gentleman, who, like all men, wore white tie and top hat. Juan's virgin lips fluttered in that moment, then quickly parted into the toothiest grin before a laughter, absolute hysterics, came erupting out of him from the joy and sheer embarrassment of his perceived good fortune, no, great fortune.

There were wide steps of black with gold, immediately ahead of him, rising quite high, perhaps a floor height, with similar steps either side leading down; everyone, every single person, was ascending those steps, carefully, energetically, some even finding themselves thrown over the shoulders of their partners in the most direct demonstration of intoxicated enthusiasm. Twenty-one-year-old Juan sought to follow, but found himself willingly pulled into the depths and intimacy of the bustling throng as it continuously climbed from the forever changing stream of new faces, colours and voices that entered the Meridian. Suddenly, rising upon his emerging horizon like a shard of something, for in his amazement he couldn't quite tell, was the Gate of SoCRER; a 176-foot-high Gothic canopy, styled like a ciborium, that soared at the heart of The Meridian, reaching into the utter blackness of above. There were no floors, nothing for 285-feet; the first option in the elevators, after the ground floor, was the twenty-third floor. This Circus was vast, and it was grand. Ascending to the summit that was the concourse of SoCRER political life, he absently paused to wonder at this structure of giant proportions, this Gate that everything, everyone passed through, but found himself impatiently shoved forward into the intimidating sphere of a 50-foot-high statue of a gold, fierce looking mermaid - or merewif as they are known here; it was one of four gold statues, of all the same proportions, that supported the Gate of SoCRER, each representing a Constituent Republic of the Southern Hemisphere, a merewif for the Somers Islands, a hippocampus for Mary-le-Bone, a wyver for Camden, and a cockatrice for Otho-Eam.

The Meridian was a success of the Gothic Revival, Art Deco, and Mythical multi-cultures co-existing in harmony, a social cohesion, aided by the abundance of gold, emerald, maroon and black that smothered the Circus in decoration. Lighting in the Circus was a particular, and not for general illumination, but a theatrical performance of ideological impression; it was subdued, a little dull, but was used to irradiate the entire Gate with an awe-inspiring brilliance. Despite the hundreds, if not thousands of windows rising up like any other ordinary skyscraper, only during the day did they assist in casting their famous heavenly brilliance, in the evening, they rather reinforced the dramatic mood, the blackness that was found. Only moments passed at the feet, or tail, of the merewif statue before Juan witnessed the simplest movement that combines the style and suavity of Elephant and Castle with the controlled vertigo of a fairground attraction as fifteen elevators - five per the three sides of the concourse - rose from their gold structures on the ground floor; fifteen naked boxes of glass and the minimalist steel, pigged with people, radiating purest white light against the oily black heights above, like helpless spirits of joy reaching the heavens. Juan would have to join them, surely a different experience within, from that when watching them beneath their climb, he thought. But as he turned his head to figure a choice for possibly lesser discomfort by an impossibly less severe elevator, at the corner of his eye was the most curious thing of all, a huge portrait of Southern President Seraphina Underwood, and it moved. Cast on a vast screen, fixed in place high above the entrance to the Meridian, possibly 4,000-sq-feet in total size, was the side portrait of Seraphina Underwood depicting a strong and steadfast Southern President with the tricolour as backdrop. But it - she moved, from looking out to the beyond, to watching over the Circus with unyielding authority, the tricolour of the Republic rippling behind her. Like an oversized billboard. He hadn't quite seen anything like it.

Hyrre þonne Heofon, glædre þonne Sunne, he didn't understand Modern Engellisċ, but figured it must mean something uplifting given its feature on this giant display, unaware that it was in fact the motto of the First Republic, and meaning, Higher than Heaven, brighter than the Sun.

But Juan made that crucial decision, and did find himself within an elevator. The lights began to fade as the Circus vanished beneath the soaring box of glass and steel that delivered him, and his many strangers, to Liberty Hall - the Deco ballroom on the 84th floor, directly above the legislating Ebon Hall. The bell of the elevator chimed, and the doors retreated back, and unlike before, he had no option or second for pause, for the young Juan was thrust into a carnival of debauchery; a writhing mass of flesh, dropped waists, cloche hats, swinging pearls, flying tailcoats, swishy kilmonos and sheer dresses whose beading looks as if it were sewn onto air. Garters, teddies, and fringe shimmy everywhere. It was gaudy with the primary colours of the giddy side of SoCRER wealth and galmour. There are so many hurtling, ecstatic bodies that Juan could not resist that sense of isolation and insignificance that one would typically associate with solitary confinement at Companies' Pleasure (prison). From the gold ceiling, where the brightest, sparkled lights burned with intensity, confetti falls like silver rain, and people dropped and swooped - trapezes and acrobats in the most garish costumes, to everywhere else where movie stars swan, showgirls and guys Charleston, and the politicians and lords of industry trade the sloppiest hacks for corruption.

A tray of stimulants floated toward Juan through the excess, the throng. What! He shrilled in incredulity. A six-foot-seven, completely naked man with sleeked back hair, and smothered in gold leaf, was serving lines on a silver tray. Running the gay rounds of convivial pleasures? Inquired a middle-aged congresswoman with a stimulated suavity of voice. A left hand held dangerously in caress of Juan's youthful cheeks, necessitating that natural clench of his buttocks with a rigidity out of honest surprise, her right hand claiming temporary ownership of a dutifully rolled £1000-note as to gorge herself on the white and powder offered with a great plenty. As he watched her lift her head from that tray with unhinged glee, an elegant black ribbon with a gold diamond-shaped tag seemed to suddenly become visible to Juan's eye; it was hung on the neck of this male server - E.H.T.C. Property. A Capital Duty, and, like the stimulants, procured from the Engell-Himyar Trading Company. He couldn't unsee it now, here and there, the servers, utterly nude, except for the leaf of gold, male and female of extraordinary bodies - tall and athletic - carrying trays of cocktails, lines, bowls of party mix, and all displaying their ownership, hanging as it did from a charming ribbon. Juan leaned in for a genuine consideration of what he could have, those wide brown eyes of dying innocence was enough of a provocation to push the congresswoman into an uncontrollable laughter. A gentleman, a complete stranger, pulled in on the server's tray, forcing Juan to back off else collide with this eager man. Don't dither, old sport, take a play, the gentleman smiled, as he delivered a finger to his gums, and a fraternal slap on the back of Juan for encouragement. Rather ashamed that he had stayed dry for so long, where all were spirited and passionate for their addiction to this night of untamed pleasure, Juan joined the last of Seraphina Underwood's guests, who were now sweeping the silverware of their delightful produce throughout the vast Liberty Hall.

At first, the anachronistic bacchanal was intoxicatingly strange. But eventually Juan conceded to the insanity, decadence, and steroidal fakeness of Elephentine society. Diving into the throng of alcoholic confetti-drenched orgies, one could not hear the howls of the young Gallegan, not against the fiendish laughter that held under the

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[Great Engellex]

The LORD of MISRULE
Part Three
ELEPHANT & CASTLE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

MONDAY, 2 APRIL 2018,

Most scream in terror at the unleashed agony scorched upon them by the tri-tailwhip. Instead the harsh lighting upon him was a severe weight on what grip remained on his reality, pressing down on his awareness, his ability to hold a single line of thought; even one of untold pain. The Director of Ceremony, staring at the fresh wounds on the man's back, considered the deliverance of the second blow. A Lord of Misrule unconscious to the mercy of the ceremony was less of a spiritual awakening, worse - without any entertaining quality. At the end of the long Liberty Hall was a wide circular dais of pure white glass, set in a mount of gleaming metal. Reinforced glass surrounds the glass circle, reaching the ceiling of the hall, and potent lights of the most brilliant white that, by the low hum of their energy, was itself a theatrical creation of cruel, industrial spirituality. A distinct cylinder of clearest bright light, that stretched to the limit of height, where inside trembled the Lord of Misrule with nothing but a solid gold crown of thorns upon his head, and the Director of Ceremony behind him; everyone else was still, an audience of thousands in rigid silence. A spiritual event worthy of a hedonistic society.

The Director wound his arm back and struck again. Blood exploded from the Lord of Misrule's back, and this time he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Exciteable flappers gasped in awe. The shredded flesh of the wounds intersected the previous, creating that visage of Southern mercy. Freedom was the exclusive birthright of every man and woman, but for those who would deny it for themselves and others - mercy had to be earned. Only through the suffering of their own creed can the shackled be truly liberated, forgiven.

Just as his arm drew back for a third time, the Director's earpiece whispered.

The Director of Ceremony exited the Lordship's dais, and approached that of the Southern President. Stood at the opposite end of Liberty Hall was Southern President Seraphina Underwood, adorned with the wealth of the Underwood family - a silver draped back silk gown embellished with over five-hundred tiny faceted diamonds, and crowned by the family State Tiara; affixed resolutely, somewhat, like an enthronement. Vice President Mathelda Ajogo was to her right, and herself an image of Nethian-Implarian regal pageantry - black and gold embroidered gown with a great rounded shoulder mantle of Nethian-lace of gold, and a radiating golden head-wear of the same Nethian-Implarian culture. They loomed close, but not too close, the Presidential dais was similarly of pure glass, set in a mount of glinting metal, but at the centre were four ornate wooden thrones, each carved with the Arms of their persons - Lord and Lady Underwood, and Baron and Baroness Ajogo.

Madame President, spoke the Director, kneeling before the Southern President as the thousands within Liberty Hall looked on. Seraphina Underwood's voice was calm and restrained as she spoke lines much rehearsed, beyond the horizon of this time, our Misrule, a new era dawns nearer.. and nearer with such haste. The First Republic, by the infinite grace of her enlightened civilisation, has moved me to instruct our collective abandonment of those chains that fetter us. They have not been necessary for many centuries.. and they are no longer tolerable in this.

Our new era of reason and liberty, where neither those chains of hatred that restrain our minds nor the chains of indenture that restrain those less fortunate than ourselves, can resist the wisdom of our enlightened and free civilisation.

Before us, our Lord of Misrule, restrained by hatred, holds within his bowels the fiction of Christ, enduring always with that endeavour to infiltrate and conquer. A defeat would be no more liberty in the First Republic, of conscience or of thought.

He, Juan Luis Arias, has committed no crime. No man, woman, child, or creature shall ever suffer prosecution in the First Republic, but for the circumstance of breaking the laws of our civilisation. Until that day, all will continue to be protected by our liberties, equally bestowed.

I am without ignorance of the danger to our First Republic, that proven reason to fear the ever expanding enterprise of fiction's adherents. But the First Republic shall not punish people for their beliefs, only for the severity of their deeds. Fear creates fear. It is my constant endeavour to - in place of it - foster love.. of one and another, and of our First Republic.

In this eventuous moment, I bestow the forgiveness of our free people upon the Lord of Misrule, for the disturbance of his thoughts, and the command of mercy upon him, as Southern President of the Southern Constituent Republics.

Arise, Lord of Misrule, for mercy be upon you, Seraphina Underwood said, motioning with her hand. Bowing his head toward his Southern President, the Director of Ceremony stepped back, turned and started back toward the dais of the Lord of Misrule.

Reaching against the reinforced glass walls for support, Juan Luis Arias struggled to pull himself back onto his feet. Waves of excruciating pain pulsed through his slender, naked frame. He was terrified of each spasm, each surge of physical torment. There was a time in his life where he was not so plagued by suffering, it was but only a few hours earlier, his mind however conspired to have him forget such hopeful memories. Besides the pain, all he knew at that moment was that he was damned, for what though he could not determine. He was utterly, tragically confused.

A searing heat erupted from beneath his feet, from a device built into the dais that had until now lain dormant. The pain swelled suddenly and then exploded with extreme intensity up his legs. Juan fell to the metal mount of the dais as he sought to clutch his feet. Rolling on the dais in convulsions, he could feel the scalding heat glue his molten flesh to the metallic floor, as every movement was more and more of himself, pieces, being ripped off in hellish pain. He could not be free of the source of the scathing heat, it incinerated every inch of skin it touched.

At the peak of his agony, a blinding flash overwhelmed Juan in every way. Fire. He unleashed a blood-curdling scream, and its fevered pitch rebounded throughout Liberty Hall. But the reverberation assaulting the eardrums of the thousands of guests, Elephentine society, was not a shriek of a man in pain; it was the fiery shrill of a man's merciful liberation. The fire that engulfed his physical form, that towered his height, had become the source of pure spirituality, emotionally it was exhilarating. Rising to his feet, as though desperately seeking salvation, or perhaps simply death, his mercy illuminated Liberty Hall with dazzling verocity. He was transformed to something greater than he was before, the embodiment of freedom that burns inside every Engell, it was stronger and more powerful than Juan could ever hope to be. That's what they believe, and they believed it throughout the First Republic; the Northern Constituent Republics had their own rather reserved intepretation of Misrule, though no less sacrificial. Northern President Lady Anne Siward's Misrule Hunt was infamous.

Like the blare of klaxons, warning of imminent overdose, the kaleidoscopic carnival was convulsed into motion and debauchery once again by the rhythmic swing of the electronic beat. The Southern President clapped her hands together as she was pulled into that Mephistophelian laugh that moved all within Liberty Hall, a laugh where self-awareness informs of being too sinister and baritone for the open doors of diplomatic engagement and consideration of public perception.

But this was what happened on 25 December, and it was now April 2018.

The enormous LED billboard displays in Elephant continued to scroll through profiles and then, at twelve o'clock midday, they abruptly vanished, in favour of commercial advertisements. As the words Brought to you by Dog & Bone hung over the biggest of such displays in central Elephant, Southern President Seraphina Underwood contemplated her choice of words to be delivered to the hundreds of families, and a notable number of embassies. The Southern Constituent Republics will mourn your loss, she thought for a moment. The hundreds of profiles are of missing persons, men and women. They disappeared over the Misrule period in the South, the North has their own high number of disappearances. Mostly of foreign background, young, tourists or students, and connected by their belief in fictional worship; a connection not made by foreign governments, at least not publicly. The First Republic commands every electronic billboard within its borders for the campaign of the missing, from the beginning of January to the beginning of April, after which, by law, those missing are considered permanently disappeared - or dead, in other words. Juan Luis Arias was one of them.

Three-hundred-twenty-seven are classified as permanently disappeared following their disappearance during Misrule celebrations in the Southern Constituent Republics. The Engellexian Republic Parlement officially apportions blame on the First Republic's unique and free party culture.

 

[Great Engellex]

GOGMAGOG
Part One
HENRIETTA
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

MONDAY, 30 APRIL 2018,

Like grains of sand beneath a night's sky they sat dwarfed by the vast proportions of the Hall of Considerations, the epicentre of East Republic House - itself the heart of the five-thousand acre industrial and military estate of the Engell-Himyar Trading Company in south-east Henrietta, Mary-le-Bone.

The Duke of Clarence and Nolland was at that very moment about to commence a weekly de-brief summary presentation to the Board of Guarantors when the twin doors suddenly flung open, prompting the thin attachment of guards to whirl towards the new arrivals with their weapons drawn. Admiral Victoria Cobham, Countess Addison, the First Lord of the Henrietta Admiralty, strode right past them, her Chief of Admiralty Staff, Vice-Admiral Cygnus Miraphorum close on her heels. Evening your Grace, my Lords and Ladies, spoke Admiral Cobham, marching across the severely minimalist interior of the Hall, the strike of her heels a captivating echo of regularity, and directly toward the glass and platinum square table the Lord Guarantor and Board were seated at. The Duke feigned the most polite tone that his anger would allow. How may I assist you, Admiral Cobham? He asked.

Competing adversaries have become substantially more difficult.. more capable than any within the Engellexian Republic Parlement anticipated, Admiral Cobham said, pausing upon her arrival at the table in the middle of the Hall of Considerations. The toll taken on the human life of the First Republic - if courage moves their hand - would be too astounding to accept. The Lord Guarantor clasped his hands, narrowing his eyes upon Admiral Cobham. A difficulty in trusting them - suspecting their intention, yes, we are quite familiar with that, but where.. he said, before her interruption. Their difference will be the undoing of the First Republic. Difference needs to be seen for the abomination that it is, spoke the Admiral. Quite right, Admiral. Yet the people of the Engellexian Republic voted for difference in their Presidents and Lord Protector, did they not? Clapped back the Duke. Indeed, Lord Guarantor. The people did vote so, not too longer before the burning forgiveness of Misrule fire upon those many hundreds of different peoples, said the Admiral. The Duke unclasped his hands, placing his palms down, against the glass surface of table. Democracy, Admiral, is indifferent to the hypocrisy of its own people, he said loftily. People? which of those do you refer, Lord Guarantor? Scoffed the Admiral. Those accustomed to the sanctuary of their estates, secured by the bloody silver of their privilege, are the greatest hypocrites of all. War, any such - is always peripheral. Not since a many hundred years has it ever affected their lives in the slightest, and the Companies are quite comfortable with that reality. The Duke leaned back in his seat, unsure. A glut of unasinous protestations, this Hall is positively bombilating with anticipation. There's almost the expectation as though, Admiral Cobham, that you are building towards some inevitable climax?

The Board members started muttering among themselves, Admiral Victoria Cobham looked sternly upon the Lord Guarantor. The Duke believed in seizing an opportunity to go right for the jugular. Wealth insulates entire classes here, in the Republic, Admiral, he said. I would not believe social injustice a serious consideration of the First Lord of the Henrietta Admiralty? The Duke asked rhetorically. The condition of the First Republic will not persist forever, Lord Guarantor, the Admiral responded. No, you're entirely correct. Not without some degree of population reduction.. in the agreeable classes, of course, the Duke said, leaning forward. Or.. without a technical breakthrough in the capability of commissioned naval warships to redistribute the balance of the Thaumantic in favour of the First Republic, added the Admiral calmly. The First Carrier Program, thought the Lord Guarantor, feeling some sense to the absurdity of all this.

Just when the Duke was about to respond, a loud tone emanated from the integrated audio of the table the Lord Guarantor and Board were seated at. The Baron of Frognal, Admiral Ebenezer Arkwright, First Lord of the Elephant Admiralty is on the line. He informs of an urgency, and that he requests to speak to the Countess Addison, Admiral Victoria Cobham, First Lord of the Henrietta Admiralty. The Board members exchanged looks of utter confusion, while the guards decided it prudent to retreat to prior positions. The Duke of Clarence and Nolland, the Lord Guarantor spoke up. Thank you, Narcissa. Please do put the Admiral through on view screen One, he instructed. With a hiss, a very wide and narrow compartment within the floor of the Hall, some few meters behind Admiral Cobham, rose in transformation to reveal itself as a one-hundred-or-so inch high definition display; the lights within the Hall dimmed, and the cold white of the illuminating electronics belonging to the platinum and glass table became much more apparent.

Good evening, Lord Guarantor, spoke Admiral Arkwright. Thank you for joining us all, on such rudely short notice. A marked occasion - for the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, the Republic Navy.. the entirety of the Engellexian Republic. You will be persuaded to this fact, he continued very matter-of-fact.The Duke looked from Admiral Arkwright on the screen to Admiral Cobham standing before them, with confusion and distrust. Pray tell, your string of words carries some meaning and definition, and are not unfortunate trials of my patience. I am without the luxury of time, nor the will to partake in political play, Admirals, the Lord Guarantor replied drily. The secret joint Navy program, between yourselves and the ETC - the First Carrier Program, spoke Admiral Cobham more deliberately. The EHTC and the ETC floated a small, very small number of proposals to the Engellexian Republic Parlement for a new class of carriers, Admiral Arkwright started. Quite alike the existing carriers in service, he continued. The very same warship design and construction was proposed, but with the added benefit of reduced air wing capability. The proposals were sufficiently studied and found lacking proof of concepts incorporating latest technological innovations; there was found no recognisable improvement to the power projection capability of the Republic Navy, informed Admiral Cobham. Widespread capacity innovation incorporation is particularly costly, Admirals, and my immediate concern was the persuasion of Parlement on this ambitious, and urgently needed endeavour, replied the Duke. The brightest minds of the EHTC and the ETC were unable to consider how to successfully best the disinclination of the fiscally narrow Parlement? Fortunately, surrendering the research and development, the refinement of existing capabilities, on the Companies, even if cost considerations were positive to this direction of technological innovation, was never something the Republic Naval Council could ever be comfortable with, informed Admiral Arkwright. Naturally, no offence considered, Admiral, replied the Lord Guarantor at that small slight.

The RNC did not hold the opinion of believing anything promising enough could possibly emerge from the Companies to justify not funding our own program. Designing capital warships worthy to replace existing flagships of the Republic Navy remains beyond the capabilities of the Companies, said Admiral Cobham. Anyone else pursuing this? Asked the Duke flippantly. Admiral Cobham stepped farther to her immediate right, as if to remove herself from obstructing something. View screen Two, please, Narcissa, instructed Admiral Cobham. A second, identical display rose from the floor where the Admiral was previously stood. The Lord Guarantor was understandably frustrated at the assumption of presence taken by the Admirals within his domain. Gogmagog, declared Admiral Arkwright. It was the name of the Republic Navy's classified carrier program, Gogmagog being the name of the king of giants belonging to Engell mythology. I would like to introduce the Engell-Himyar Trading Company to the Gogmagog-class aircraft carrier - a truly notable innovation of the Republic Navy, added Admiral Arkwright. The Hall of Considerations naturally subsided into absolute silence, with view screen Two commencing her visual presentation and demonstration, beginning with a three dimensional computer-generated-imagery of the capital ship as per the blueprint of her class. The Gogmagog's majestic image was only a small degree larger than the existing carriers in service, and appeared, at least from the immediate observation, to be quite similarly designed. There were no gasps of awe, and the Lord Guarantor had the impression of confusion. Admiral Victoria Cobham smiled.

Designed to be an improvement on the preceding class, although you may observe the arrangement of the class to be quite similar to the previous, Admiral Cobham started. Two Thunor Electric A4W nuclear reactors, to be housed in separate compartments, that can sustain a maximum speed of over thirty knots and produce a maximum power of two-hundred-sixty-thousand bhp. Lord Guarantor, the Board, this design translates to ninety-percent more aviation fuel and fifty-percent more ordnance can be carried by the Gogmagog when a comparison is given to the existing, preceding class, Admiral Cobham said, savoring the astonished looks of the Board members. The Republic Naval Council elected to incorporate the very latest in cutting edge warship engineering and weapons technology available within the Engellexian Republic, turned Admiral Arkwright. The Gogmagog is decidedly an ultimate in symbolism of Engell capability and ambition. When the RNC set out for her design, the goal of our endeavour was relatively simple - to usher in a new era for the flagships of the Admiralties of the Republic Navy. It is the unanimous and professional belief of the RNC that we have achieved that in this design of warship, and the objective today is to persuade the Engell-Himyar Trading Company and the Engellexic Thaumantic Company to our position, in partnership with the Republic Naval Council.

The Lord Guarantor suddenly sat back in surprise, the ETC? Admiral Arkwright nodded, you heard me correctly, Lord Guarantor. The First Lord of the Hammersmith Admiralty is engaged as we speak with the Lord Guarantor and the Board of the ETC in Hammersmith. I believe the Northern President is assisting the First Lord with those efforts. The Board and the Duke sat silently, the RNC were not persuading anyone to their position, they were instructing the Companies to abandon their own efforts in support of theirs; the First Lord of the Hammersmith Admiralty was also the Admiral-General of the Republic Navy, and that position comes with being the Lord Protector of the Engellexian Republic.

Lord Guarantor, there is another urgent incoming call from - suddenly interrupted the secretary, Narcissa. Put them straight through, answered Admiral Cobham with broad satisfaction. A new voice was heard of the speakers. No on screen broadcast. The industrial capacity to direct the satisfaction of the Gogmagog program will be commanded by the Meridian, that instruction remains for the immediate, and sufficient commencement of the program's achievement. There can be no exception to that condition, spoke the new attendee. The Duke of Clarence and Nolland finally lost his temper, who on earth is this? Are you quite aware as to the person you are addressing? There was a brief pause, and the new voice responded. Of course, Lord Guarantor. And it pains me so that you are unable to recognise my voice. Jaws dropped around the table as the name Southern President Seraphina Underwood appeared on the conference call attendance list. None of the Board could believe that the Southern President was now a participant of this exceptional Board meeting. The Duke was understandably embarrassed.

Seraphina Underwood continued. The Gogmagog program within the Southern Constituent Republics is the responsibility of the Meridian. It is not the policy of the Southern President to usurp the interests of any of the Companies, Lord Guarantor, but this program is beyond the profit margins of the duplicit accounts of the Companies, she said, referring to her knowledge of the fact that it is not a very well kept secret that the interests of the EHTC and the ETC was not the relatively small profit from the construction schedules of the program, but the immense profit potential from the future undertaken operations of the carrier groups within the Thaumantic and Clarencian. It is now your responsibility to decide if the EHTC should continue to have a constitutional position within the First Republic. Do not assume the task at hand lightly, Lord Guarantor, the Board. The future of the First Republic sits on this decision. Seraphina Underwood's name disappeared from the attendance list, and the Board members squinted at the many details of the Gogmagog on view screen Two.

Less than forty-eight hours after the Boards of the EHTC and the ETC voted unanimously to support the RNC program, both the Northern and Southern Presidents made moving addresses separately in No.C.R.E.R. and So.C.R.E.R. They asserted the Engellexian Republic as an industrial leader, announcing a new First Republic mission of naval rejuvenation to be undertaken by the bastions of Engell sovereignty and prosperity, the EHTC and the ETC. The introduction of the First Carrier Program aircraft carrier during their speeches would surely draw quiet amusement from competing maritime Powers, as the present FCP offers nothing even remotely innovative compared to the existing carriers. The FCP introduction was not for the benefit of a foreign audience, but the eyes and ears of the Engellexian Republic Parlement, as to feel satisfied with what they voted to approve and finance.

When the ETC and the EHTC lay the keels of the new carriers, they will not be FCP carriers, but Gogmagog-class.

 

[Great Engellex]

GOGMAGOG
Part Two
HAMMERSMITH
NORTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

TUESDAY, MAY 2018,

Has ever a metropolis in Europe presented a spectacle so striking as that afforded by Admiralty Court Palace during the persistent struggle of the classes with industry, and the prosperity and misery that must breed from it. Between the grandeur of centuries gone and this epoch, between the majesty of old Engellex and the intestine broils of Engell Himyar, between the distracting poverty of the condemned, for which Hammersmith was infamous, and the radiance of a Thaumantic Empire's touch upon a city - this city, there was a contrast as painful as it was startling. Those streets where one might see the Lord Protector and, in equal probability, the criminal enterprise of a defeated man of coldest desperation, that place of grey hulking vessels encumbered with the cruelty of destructive engineering, those banners of Cerberus which are presented to the Engellexian Republic Parlement as tokens of mourning as well as smug victory, this magnificent palace whence seemed to issue a suppliant voice adjuring soldier and sailor to not spare a piece of the fairest heritage of historic splendour and a civilisation's grandeur belonging of any that be deemed Competitors, or the humble bounty of the once sovereign earth of Thaumantic people's now fallen to steel and gunpowder, all filled the soul with profound emotion.

An hour of anguish, she thought, our people, so progressed, yet insecure by experience and haunted by a well-founded anxiety as to what was to become, what destiny remains of their civilisation. The First Republic is but pitiable prey to their jealous flames, spoke the Countess of Londinjou - the Northern President, as her motorcade diverted and frustrated all as it snaked through the city. What is there to wonder? Whether a heap of cinders might not be all that will remain of this leading civilisation of Europe? One must hope. Hope. Hope? She repeated with a growing disdainful arrogance of tone, laced, as it was evidently so, with spite. This is the heart of the Thaumantic.. the First Republic, it has to be Europe's constant, she muttered with an unnerving absence. The Engellexian Republic of Nag's Head, and of 1555, of 1611, and 1957, does protest much against the regressed slaver which the capitals of our increasingly clamorous Competitors have the pretension to declare into existence during the prospered peace of our present, read her Chief of Staff, in preparation of her address later in the evening. We are not the sport of their unchecked envy, we are not. Strange and unwanted is the noise of aggression which disturbs the watery approaches of our isles from that Continent, the unsettled and decrepit nexus of tyranny. Even permitting in these days of resplendent First Republicanism the spectre of aggression abroad remained close, the aristocratic classes of the Republic were still incessantly haunted by the cannibalism of revolution and the treachery of imperial envy, finished the Chief of Staff as they sought to review, again, the Northern President's address. The summoning to Admiralty Court Palace, now, of the Peers of Engellex, was centralism of absolute strength within the Lord Protector, the rekindling of a confidence that launched the hundreds of vessels centuries before, for the launch of thousands of vessels centuries ahead. The performance of the Northern and Southern Presidents will be exceptionally well executed with favour to the Lord Protector; their interest remains in the strengthening of the Viscount Drake's hand in all matters of war, with foreign affairs an ambition that will prove an undertaking of patience in endurance - for the Engellexian Republic Parlement jealously regards her executive preserve.

The administrations of the Lord Protectorship had been allowed to occupy the Lord Guarantor's Apartments within Admiralty Court Palace, next to the Admiral-General's Private Apartments, the Lord Protector's Apartments, and the Lord Protector's Private Apartments; the Admiral-General's Private Apartments now function for senior Republic Naval Council operations, and the Lord Protector fully occupies the associated private apartments. The rooms belonging to the Lord Protector had been respected, and no administrative functionary had dared to venture a question of transformative usage; the sanctuary of the Lord possessing of the highest seniority and power in the Republic could not ever be considered a lowly outpost of ministerial administration. Persisting even in this century of progress, of democracy, it cannot be contemplated to consider without utmost respect the apartments of Admiralty Court Palace where the head of State resided and exercised executive power in equal reflection to Europe's grandest absolutist emperors. It was the incomparable Hall of Reflection, that connected the Lord Protector's Apartments and the Admiral-General's Apartments, that did arouse the regal spirit of the Viscount Drake, the Lord Protector. On this Tuesday it was a hall of triumph, tradition, and of treaty. There, surrounded by all the aristocracy of the Northern Constituent Republics, the Lord Protector will proclaim the resurgence of the First Republic; there the protocol and etiquette of the Engell aristocracy permitted the arriving presence of the Northern President, Lady Anne Siward the Countess of Londinjou, as Queen upon her Emperor's Court; there the Council of the Republic and the Engellexian Republic Parlement will treaty on the First Republic's humanist duty throughout the Thaumantic, as its sole progressive civilisation. The Hall of Reflection, this glittering hall, this asylum of imperial-aristocratic splendours, this place of ecstasy, of zenith, where the wisdom of post-religion has revived the opulence of pleasure and myth, this régime moderne where the imagination evokes so many brilliant phantoms, where the Engell aristocracy comes to life again, as centuries before, with its elegance and pride, its privilege and courage, this palace of courtly theatre.

Lady Anne Siward, Countess of Londinjou, the Northern President, stepped up that magnificent staircase of marble, that which was famously decorated by sculptures and paintings of the finest admirals that served in the history of the Engellexian Republic, the staircase of the Admirals. The flickering glow of the many hundreds of lit candles glistened on the Countess of Londinjou State Tiara, the diamonds that dripped from her ears, and upon those that hung round her neck and down the ivory skin of her plentiful bosom. With each step her royal blue gown, with a voluminous skirt composed of more than a dozen layers of gossamer-fine silk, shimmered with a diaphanous quality. Out of the warm glow of candlelight and through the bright, lavishly decorated Stately rooms of the Lord Protector's Apartments the Countess of Londinjou continued, her Chief of Staff and lady-in-waiting tapping close behind, past marble statues, great portraits, and gilded moldings into a dazzling hall where countless mirrors clung to walls of gold and marble - the Hall of Reflection. The twice-struck staff of the Lord Chamberlain thundered in the hall, the Lady Anne Siward, Countess of Londinjou, President of the Northern Constituent Republics, he bellowed. All, but the Lord Protector, were courteous in their demonstrated etiquette; the Lords and gentlemen bowed from the neck, the Ladies a sharp, low curtsy. The Countess sailed through the Hall of Reflection, her blue gown of silk trailing immediately behind. Without making any such prior address, or even movement toward the Countess or any other, the Lord Protector in the sumptuous blue and gold uniform of the 1st Hussars struck his heel twice against the hardwood-flooring. One by one, in order of precedence, the Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen of the Hall of Reflection bowed and curtsied to their Lord Protector. The Countess of Londinjou, having been the exception of that etiquette, was addressed. We do quite like it, spoke the Viscount Drake, almost impassive. When the occasion is high, and the manner of their bow is low, he added, with a very small smile. That is very fortunate, your Mightiness, because that is precisely what etiquette commands them to do, replied the Countess. A splendid deference, indeed - indeed, replied the Viscount, referring to the rigidity of the courtly instruction. After keeping the grand attendees waiting, still respecting the dignity of the Lord Protector by their bow and curtsy, for a good number of minutes, the Viscount Drake pulled back his shoulders and lifted chin with a majesty as to invite the Countess of Londinjou to respectfully submit herself, too, to the dignity of the Lord Protector; and she did so, performing a perfectly executed, low curtsy. The Viscount Drake then addressed them. Although the modesty of the First Republic has frequently opposed our collective desire to raise her (the Republic Navy) sooner to a rank proportionate to our esteem and her commanding qualities, yet the affection we have for her, and Gloriana, do not permit us to defer any longer the acknowledgement by the First Republic of merits so well known to this, nor longer to refuse to the Thaumantic the effects of our tenderness for the Republic Navy, our protective bountiful mother, spoke the Lord Protector.

In one sweeping movement, the Countess gracefully rose from her curtsy before the Lord Protector; the hundreds of dipped heads, Lord and Ladies, with an impeccably timed execution delivered themselves from the prolonged submission in unison - the hundreds of stern Establishment faces looked on with indifference as the Lord Protector moved only just off-centre of the Hall, seemingly occupied. The Viscount Drake, from one of the many windows of the Hall of Reflection, was momentarily taken by that superb view in which the grand predecessors of the Hammersmith Admiralty perceived nothing which was not belonging to it; for this courtly garden was the gateway to the Thaumantic Ocean, and it filled the entire horizon. Majesty rested on this vanquished shoreline; oceanic waters tamed to azure pools of reflection brought to perform by dint of art, and gushing in none but regular baroque designs; on the vegetable architecture which prolongs and completes the architecture of stone and marble; on the shrubs which grow with docility under line and square. How could he not consider the harmonious regularity of the natural court to the untamed wrath of the Thaumantic's waves, ever crashing, always seeking the breach of the two-hundred hectares Court of Admirals? Will the Thaumantic, the Lord Protector asked in jest, ever pardon the First Republic for our Implarian ambition?

Much ado, your Mightiness, spoke the Countess. Ponder such a wisdom as of Gloriana before this Admiralty - an edifice of the greatest Naval Lords - which was to witness rebirth before time should have even considered the darkening of its gilded ceilings? What thoughts of Gloriana.. for our discords, our miseries, our humiliations.. our Engell hearts be thoroughly splintered into oblivion should this hall decorated by art of our immortal victories not see from your Mightiness, our Lord Protector, restored that supremacy of the Engellexian Republic which revolutionary disease had taken its time to erode, triumphed the Countess with a regality to a silent but very much approving hall. The Viscount Drake gazed humbly at the dazzling and ostentatious paintings of the Hall of Reflection that were many and throughout, he continued to recall her words, for they impressed much upon him. The sweet and meditative beauty of that moment inspired something different among the assembled aristocrats and members of Parlement, to what they expected, and then disturbed from that peace. The silence was interrupted by the noise of the ceremonial artillery which thundered from the Bourgogne-style gardens of the Court of Admirals. It almost seemed in recognition, in honour of the Lord Protector, but a timely coincidence it was. It did not stop the contemplation of the majesty of the circumstance that formed on Tuesday, at Admiralty Court Palace within its Hall of Reflection; the artillery from Hag Gate Keep, in east Hammersmith, greeted the pompous thunder of Court of Admirals, ushering in a night that was together industrial and serene.

Under the dark and starless sky, a most incomparable rain of lights suddenly became visible, sparkling gold, silver and blue of the Tricolour. All the parterres of the Court glittered. The grand promenade at the rear of Admiralty Court Palace was bordered with a double row of lights set two feet apart. The steps and railings, all the walls, every one of the fifty fountains, shone and glittered by an ingenious fashion of illuminations. Music by Eduardus Fredorick Handel, his

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played by Henriette Handel - a much distant relative of direct lineage, and her troop, the Hammersmith Chamber Orchestra, delivered the foundations of the resplendent rejoicings to the many hundreds at the Court of Admirals. The Lord Protector was at that moment absent. What motives determined the Viscount Drake to reason for his own abandoning of the festivities? Nothing is lacking to the Court of Admirals, not banquets, music, dance, nor romantic prospect. Its air is reserved and agreeable, much to the benefit of the fiery pageant in the sky. Any curious wanderer would hold the belief of the many hundreds inspired to great thoughts, and of course, from the height of that unparalleled promenade how can one not contemplate great things in the approach of a celebratory occasion of one of the most varied and majestic societies of Europe.

 

[Great Engellex]

GOGMAGOG
Part Three
HAMMERSMITH
NORTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

TUESDAY, MAY 2018,


The Lord Protector had meanwhile passed from the much illuminated keel-laying celebrations of the Court of Admirals, and to the Hall of Reflection. The hall utterly absorbed him. It certainly gave the perception of being of enormous proportions, a world in itself. He stood, composed as possessed of majesty, but only to stare, observe, and perceive something from the allegorical figures which decorated the exquisite ceiling. He was much agitated on how to interpret gilded glories in an Age of great difference; in absence of agitation - when he wasn't, there was a personal fascination of seeing himself reflected in the many hundreds of mirrors, with that antiquated, baroque-fairytale emotion given by the silver flower-tubs and tables, and those enormous chandeliers. The Countess of Londinjou had been informed; the Viscount Drake desired a diversion from the dazzled eyes and the fascinated imaginations, of the hundreds, by the brilliancy of the ostentatious festivities of the Court of Admirals. Those flickering lights of a thousand candles that glowed seductively against the reflected gold, moved the Lord Protector to turn from it. The Countess was most content at the sudden arrangement, for there was a great tournament which overpassed the limits of magnificence and even the subtle nature of courtly humour. She and all the leading lords and ladies at the Court were on richly ornamented gondolas, making a great play upon the grand canal at the centre of the Court of Admirals. Boats filled with musicians followed them, and by the echo of the tall vegetation repeated the sounds of an enchanted harmony. They represented the maritime nations of Europe; one boat bearing the arms of Gallega, painted wonderfully upon her, remained moored, without captain or any other, much to the amusement of all.

The Viscount glided over the parquet floor to the Council Chamber, part of the Lord Protector's Apartments, and was alone; with a dignified hand the door was closed behind him. A practiced eye swept the room briefly; unnecessary in the Admiralty Court Palace, but following old and well-trodden pathways in his mind. He strolled silently down the length of the long black marble-topped table, absent-mindedly touching the silk damask covered gilded seats as he passed, and dropped lightly into the armchair of the same style at the end. Reclining a little into his chair, he felt comfortable within the intimately lit room, and started reading . Time passed quietly for a while, save for the subdued cries of laughter and whistle of fireworks from the Court, the night sky's silver glow punctuated at regular intervals by kaleidoscopic bursts of fireworks sweeping across the room.

The Lord Protector rose calmly from his chair and stamped his foot twice on the floor as a signal. The door opened, the Lord Chamberlain was prompted to enter the Council Chamber, and did so bending respectfully. Without the Lord Guarantors before us, my presence here is without purpose or dignity, complained the Viscount. Where are the Lord Guarantors, and why are they not before us? He questioned with a growth of impatience. The Lord Chamberlain bowed his head and murmured, your Mightiness.

A moment passed, again, and the three Lord Guarantors strode down the polished parquet of the Hall of Reflection to the Council Chamber side by side. I thank you all for coming, spoke the Viscount on their arrival. A brief glance was all the Lord Protector needed, and the Lord Chamberlain was bent and retreating for a respectful exit, closing the doors on his final departing step. It is always with honour, your Mightiness, replied the Duke of Clarence and Nolland, the Lord Guarantor of the Engell-Himyar Trading Company. Summoned you are here today, delivered the Viscount with the gesticulated instruction of a languid hand to sit. Because there is much a proposition for the First Republic.. for her Lords. It.. it goes without saying, my Lords, that the substance of these discussions - by the enacted legislations of this Republic and the subsequent regulations - cannot be divulged to any stranger not legitimised by a seat on the Council of the Republic. They all bowed in respectful agreement; Count Vasili Andreyevich Vyzamitinov - the Lord Guarantor of the Engellexian Thaumantic Company, Lord Horatio Saville, Duke of Clarence and Nolland - Lord Guarantor of the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, and Lady Eglantine Giffard, Duchess of Blackfreres - Lord Guarantor of the City of Dulwich Corporation. The Bare Commons did rise, in pursuance of a notice, to move for the appointment of a select committee, to inquire and execute that customary auction of exclusive economic rights for the disputed territories of the North Thaumantic; and the matter of such an auction has been placed under the notice of a committee, said the Viscount without an alteration to his tone, beneath his lofty demeaour and affected indifference of which a purpose and impatience could be discerned. My Lord Protector, forgive my occupying your time, politely spoke the Duchess of Blackfrerers, her aristocratic face taut with purpose, I should be sad to be the cause of any great disappointment, your Mightiness.. but the status of those auctions remain mere curiosity in tradition, and do appear quite unalterable in that regard. Has Parlement not fixed the auctioning of those rights to simply express one's collective displeasure? The Duke of Clarence and Nolland, sitting opposite the duchess, was positively animated to chuckle by his agreement at her delicate insistence. Why should we suffer their occupation? Asked the Duke of Clarence and Nolland rhetorically, uttering a famous line from publications that evolved into a patriotic campaign from which the symbolic auctions of exclusive economic rights arrived from. I trust we did not request it, replied the Duchess in continuation of that famous quip. Foreigners, and their occupation.. the Coldherberge Islands can overcome all else! But how do they overcome occupation! Finished the Duke, inclining a short, throaty laugh from all, including the Viscount.

Europe at peace, said the Viscount in interruption with a sympathy for the jolly, his fingers steepled as he pursued, again, the matter he summoned them for. Is it not time for the Thaumantic family to be reconciled? The generosity of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company in pursuit of her commercial interest is without equal in the Thaumantic. The gratitude of the Republic and, indeed, her shareholders could not be sufficiently expressed should the Company support a command for the licence of the Coldherberge' EERs. An education.. indeed, my Lords and Lady, to those in belief of possessing a reach, that decrees and principles still rule from a seeming grave - we have nurtured them quite well, and are right to be proud of them. Count Vasili's brows drew together, your Mightness, can we truly go back there again? The Lord Protector leaned back in his chair, and gave the Count an inquiring look, why not? The Count hesitated, but spoke truthfully, the possibility to lose so much, my Lord Protector. The Viscount remained still with regal defiance, taking note among the three faces the sharp, aquiline countenance of the sombre Duchess of Blackfrerers, whom the Viscount could not tell was frowning or smiling. If one never ventures, one never gains, advised the Duke to the Count. We have lost some - even by one's more tolerable standard - over that last century, reminded the Count Vasili. Then it might be right for our luck to turn, spoke the Duchess with a reserved enthusiasm, much to the Viscount's absent expectation.

Between thumb and forefinger, Count Vasili massaged his chin and regarded the situation before him. I shall not risk a shared fatigue, and hold us all on this matter fruitlessly - the duration to these licences? He asked. Ten years, replied the Lord Protector. My Lord Protector, I am sensible to consider the misfortune of the Coldherberge isles lingering in occupation for those ten years, commercial duty would undoubtedly surpass my personal inclination for peace, replied the Count. The occupying administration is surely to be without the inspiration to negotiate or even ponder the question of sovereignty, spoke the Duchess. The licences remain unenforceable beyond the jurisdiction of the Republic, she continued. Forgive me, your Mightiness, but the circumstance remains a hazardous point of complaint for the interests of the Company. It doesn't hold the appearance of a particularly safe bet, spoke the Count. I am absolutely with confidence that they should find their situation teetering on the edge of desperation, unable to commit the required forces to mount a successful and lasting counter campaign, advised the Lord Protector. And do keep in thought, my Lord, the demeanour of our Republic to be somewhat without prediction in these matters. Quite advantageous to any proceedings, I'd wager, advised the Duke to the Count. A most fair point, Duke. The Company would no doubt find itself particularly busy, there would be no enjoyment in refusing this proposition. A diversion full of amusement, laughed the Count, the others following him. The natural wealth of the Coldherberge isles is not abundant, and its fortunes have long been in decline, not that the occupying Power has amassed great wealth in their occupation, but it is my position that those isles have one ambition left; they are located quite intimately within the North Thaumantic, and it can be reasonably hoped the liberation will secure the northern ocean for much profit, carefully informed the Lord Protector. The Human Commodity royalties would certainly fill the coffers of your Company - they are all Tiburan Catholic, I believe, spoke the Duchess. Permit the flourishing of a compliant population, better the industry of the natural and manufactured bounty, added the Duke.

Parlement, through the select committee, will establish this auction with the inclination for objective estimations of the occupied territory's value - if only to justify the symbolic gesture, but all know too well the momentum for something more than symbolism will decline to materialise, spoke the Lord Protector. Nobody daren't share the appetite of the ETC's bid, the hazard would prove ruinously expensive, and time would not be on their side to find an agreeable assessment of the situation. The Company will find it necessary, with an urgency, to be high on military readiness; dithering presents one nay an opportunity, continued the Viscount. Freed from the constraints of that occupation, the Companies should find a new determination to flaunt the failure of that declining Power's threatened tyranny, advised the Duchess, referring to thinly veiled threats against the First Republic and her economic system. The City of Dulwich Corporation are most keen to diminish aggression toward our shores, she added. Take care, your Grace, I am quite sure many would be disappointed at the cost of diminishing foreign aggression, spoke the Count. The Corporation has found most things improve on acquaintance, my Lord, even war, replied the Duchess. They do appear eager to fracture our intractable submission, said the Duke. An eager feeling? What do you suppose? Asked the Count. Are you serious, your Grace? Would you wager a feeling of war? Questioned the Duchess. Of course he would, Duchess, how could you not? Interjected the Lord Protector. For them to invade the Engellexian Republic would be an advantage to many on that continent, he added. Not least to Serenierre, considered the Duke. Serenierre? Honestly, are they not merely a passing thought? Asked the Duchess. Yes, but it might help restore their honour and standing in Europe, the Duke replied. Indeed, there is that, agreed the Count, with the Lord Protector nodding also in agreement.

There remains, begun the Lord Protector, a matter with the potential to occupy much of our time.. a mere trifle I am quite sure you would agree; boundless my confidence is, however, that we will mitigate any concern. It exists as the sole reason for my effort this evening, finished the Viscount. It is Faughart, is it not? That appears the only concern that could be observed as sensible from your efforts, your Mightiness, asked the Count. You are quite right, it is indeed Faughart, confirmed the Lord Protector. If you all would indulge me and observe the map, he requested, gesturing with a sweeping hand upon a beautiful canvas map on the table before them. The Coldherberge isles, and thoroughly contested - labouring under the occupying administration of a competing, foreign Power and, as I have so informed, a sobering interest to all here - and, here, Faughart. Of course, it it unnecessary to say how preferable it would be had the circumstance respecting the Coldherberge isles never transpired in the first instance, but we must engage with the reality of the hand dealt us, and that pearl of the Thaumantic to become a permanent asset of your Company (ETC) - an Engell company. The Duke thought for a moment, it would be preferable should a new landlord be found for Faughart, that would not be inclined to engage a hapless war against the Republic from its port. The Lord Protector agreed, that captures the sentiment fairly well. The Count leaned forward, and in what way would this manifest a commercial benefit to the Company? There was a pause. The Lord Protector was evidently unamused at the impertinence of the question, especially given how much had already been implied.

You are proposing to the ETC this :- for the Company to secure exclusive economic rights to the Coldherberge isles, and to enforce that licence militarily - by invoking our constitutional prerogative over the Elephant Admiralty? As to acquire Faughart, and satisfy security concerns of the Republic in the Northern Thaumantic? Summarised the Count. I am especially sympathetic to the proposition, your Mightiness, but the Company has expended much a pretty penny on ideas the Board, and myself, have been sympathetic to, without great success. This could prove to be disastrously ruinous to the Company, not simply our financial position, but its continued existence. How can I contemplate this before the Board? Asked the Count. On this matter of finances, would the Company be restricted to one licence? What appearance would a.. budget take? Questioned the Lord Protector. I would question the relevancy of such questions, your Mightiness, with the utmost respect, answered the Count. The Coldherberge isles.. and the Magna Risberge? The Lord Protector pressed further. I do not possess the liberty to expand on this matter, even to you, your Mightiness, the Count refuted. Admiralty Court Palace reviews Company accounts with regularity and care, my Lord, and I have been advised that those of the ETC are quite reminiscent of the Naval Estimates during the 1920's - when we lost the East Clarencian. It can be safely argued that your Company can afford not very much, Count, spoke the Lord Protector. The Board are reviewing the options available to it. The Company has within its employ very good men and women, with a keen eye - and will balance the accounts.. replied the Count. Time is not on your side, Count. The Lesser Companies have the financial muscle to seize upon any wrong footing of the ETC. The Council of the Republic could not constitutionally intervene to defend the preserve of your Company, said the Lord Protector. With all due respect, your Mightiness, what if you are correct on this? For what purpose have you seen fit to summon me this evening to discuss this proposition if you are in full possession of the knowledge that the Company cannot afford to partake? Questioned the Count. Because the City of Dulwich Corporation does, my Lord, answered the Lord Protector.

The Duke of Clarence and Nolland, and the Duchess of Blackfreres were now very much aware of the Lord Protector, their muscles tense as they sat stiff, directing their eyes over the cartography on the marble before them. The Count reclined in his chair, hands steepled and muscles relaxed, but hooded eyes flickering. For a moment there was silence punctuated only by the screeching and popping of fireworks outside. Another passed the windows, and in the warm glow of the chamber, the colourful bursts were lending unnatural hues. Beyond those windows, in Admirals Court, the hundreds continued to be festive without a moment for silence. What are you proposing? Asked the Count. The Engellexian Republic and her Companies hold a common objective, that much should be quite obvious, and between all here, at this table, we have the resources necessary to see that objective to fruition. It matters now of merely aligning ourselves so, informed the Lord Protector. The Corporation is to finance the purchase of the licence? The Count asked explicitly. It is a of no consequence, my Lord. The Corporation can ensure that the necessary sum is made available to your Company, and on very reasonable terms, which is all that should matter, spoke the Duchess. On the understanding, of course, that it is used exclusively for the purpose of acquiring that licence, added the Lord Protector. Forgive me, but I must ask again. Financially the proposal is not problematic, it would even provide relief to explain such a negotiated loan for the Company, but I must ask - how is this beneficial for the Company? The Count questioned again. A financing arrangement on very favourable terms is not beneficial to the Company? Frustrated the Lord Protector. My Lord Protector, I do not believe you are considering thoroughly the arrangement as a Lord Guarantor would, began the Count. You are right, the arrangement with the Corporation is indeed exceedingly beneficial to the Company, but I need to explain why it is in the interest of the Company to allocate these new sums on a bid for a licence to access exclusive economic rights to the most problematic territory at the Republic's auction, rather than selecting somewhere much more suitable, or even, more prudently, shoring up the existing finances of the Company. I require something much more thorough to present the Board, and I simply cannot see it, spoke the Count.

As the First Lord of the CDC, I believe I can provide some insight on this matter, spoke the Duchess. The Coldherberge isles are, as you say, not holding an abundance of natural resources, that is correct, but it is nevertheless a uniquely opportune territory - for the Republic, and moreso for the Company. The Count disagreed, your Grace, I understand what you are saying, and the territory has a sobering potential for the wider Thaumantic area, but that cannot be leveraged. The Duchess smiled. What if you could, my Lord? If you engage to arrange immediate asset potentials with prospective agreements - hard numbers - I believe you might find some cooperation with your dominion over the Coldherberge isles, she advised. What manner of immediate asset potentials do you allude, your Grace? No doubt, a keener eye on the detail than I, spoke the Count. I am proposing the ETC come to terms with the Republic Naval Council and the Engell-Himyar Trading Company; a treaty stipulating the lease of Saint Brigida, uh.. Faughart to the RNC for one-hundred years; a contract for the leasing of all prospective Capital Duties from the Coldherberge isles to the EHTC. There are tens of thousands of devout Tiburan Catholics on those islands, dispatch them to Himyar for illegal fictional practices. Contract terms? Twenty-five years? Numbers are forming, my Lord, spoke the Duchess. Is.. is that in compliance with the law? Asked the Count. The ETC retains control over territorial jurisdiction, as does the EHTC, but it has been some time since either administered a territorial asset such as this. On the matter of the RNC, should the ETC agree to exclusive leasing of port, facilities and the sum of it to the Republic Navy, we will find agreeable terms to the jurisdiction of the Admiralty - Hammersmith and Elephant - an acceptable, interim division of capability as to accommodate the RNC and the ETC; interim until the ETC resolves the Magna Risberge circumstance, spoke the Lord Protector. Would it do well to seek out the foreign Power of the Coldherberge isles? Asked the Count. Those islands must be taken by the Company, my Lord, the fortunes of the ETC are quite dependent on it. I think it a strong probability that the RNC and the EHTC can be found interested in discussing arrangements, as suggest a moment ago, and under the circumstances I do not believe either will find a point to be stuck. Security, Count, is the lingering concern, answered the Duke. The Count nodded. The EHTC maintains her own regular assessments of naval capabilities through our interests in the Henrietta Admiralty, spoke the Duke. Recent considerations of the Elephant Admiralty would suggest the appearance of lacking overwhelming capability to bring to bear upon the Power over the Coldherberge isles. It is a strong, sincere belief that the ETC would require additional assistance - enough warships and manpower to wrestle the islands and defend the North Thaumantic from all possible threats, finished the Duke. It can be trusted much, spoke the Count, that when his Grace speaks of naval capability he dutifully reminds us all of the Elephant Admiralty. What will it cost the ETC to have the EHTC shoulder much of this burden? Asked the Count humourously. Details, details, my Lord, let us not be sullied by them. I believe the EHTC would find great advantage in acquiring for itself a favour of such a nature to be owed by the ETC; the South Thaumantic does contend with her own territorial scrupples, my Lord, answered the Duke.

On the face of it, the ETC acquires exclusive economic rights to the Coldherberge isles for ten years, once held - indefinitely, and the position to make note of Magna Risberge for future eventualities; the RNC secures for itself a new naval port, and the peace of safely satisfying one of the most troubled and dangerous territories of the Thaumantic; the EHTC shall enjoy the leasing of tens of thousands of Capital Duties to her agricultural and industrial estates, and a potent favour; the CDC - an opening investment in the New North Thaumantic. There is an elegance to our deliberations, and a satisfaction to be greatly shared, declared the Lord Protector.

 

[Great Engellex]

ORTHRUS
Part One
ELEPHANT & CASLTE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

TUESDAY, 3 JULY 2018,

They watched the live broadcast from Elephant and Castle along with the rest of SoCRER and NoCRER. The podium was draped in dark blue with a white stylized Cerberus, the banner of the President of SoCRER, a detail not unnoticed. The tricolour of the Engellexian Republic hung in the background not once, but six times - three on either side of the podium. The First Republic three. For many this was the first experience of part of the Southern President's official residence, Meridian One. A vast, elegant in its simplicity, white room of tall height that occupied an entire floor of the Meridian, it had only one exterior wall, west facing, but was otherwise completely encased by solid glass, organising the depth and diversity of the landscape beyond with a majesty for the President's pleasure. It was bright, by natural illumination, and by the theatrical point of light upon the miniscule area the podium appeared to occupy. The sound of distant, sharp but regular strikes echoed throughout; they continued, becoming less distant, though seemingly closing a great distance. A flood of information suddenly registered the tens, if not hundreds of millions of viewers to what was happening ;- President of the Southern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic; Lady Seraphina Underwood; One Meridian; Elephant and Castle; Camden; Southern Constituent Republics. The virgin minds of Southern and Northern Engells were now forced to take inventory of the world surrounding them, the world of the First Republic, and the world beyond it; their chests, rising and falling with the sensation of air rushing into their lungs with increased rhythm; the contraction of throat muscles as they swallowed; hands that opened and closed into fists upon the emotion of every word their Southern President spoke; all virgin experiences, so it would seem, for women and men unaccustomed to direct, forward leadership that was, in appearance, separate from the clamouring chambers of the democratic edifice of the First Republic - the Engellexian Republic Parlement.

Standing self-possessed, she was a politician unlike any other; as most Engell politicians are to the rest of Europe. No narrow confines for the Southern President to struggle the sense of the situation to her citizens - no, her public addresses are delivered from a position of familiarity inside a political, personal arena specifically designed to engage with anyone who was not a Southern President; to convey the transparency of Engellexic democracy, the freedom of its Republic, and the authority of the office of the Southern Presidency. The Southern Constituent Republics, indeed the First Republic, cannot proceed without the prudence of an experienced, intelligent, and well-organised Republic Navy, spoke the Southern President.

The war that the Great Powers of Gallia-Germania have sought and achieved, will compromise the security and stability of the Thaumantic Ocean Area in a profound and fundamental way. They will fail, however, to deprive us of our security, our stability, and our liberty, and the value of that lesson will be the lives of too many of their unfortunate peoples, should they decide it. This aggression is something the Gallian-Germanic Powers have been preparing for many years.

This week, since the first news of the outbreak of war, the Northern Constituent Republics have seen twenty-one incursions into the sovereign airspace and waters of the First Republic in the North Thaumantic Area, including the approaches of Cheapford, Newgate, and Dagenham. Should the warring and allied Powers of Gallia-Germania be decided upon war against a neutral Power of the Thaumantic, the economy of the First Republic could suffer the hazard of irreversible damage if we are found without preparation. In the face of an armed, organised imperialist force of aggression, we have no choice but to enforce a military cordon on the Somers' Islands of Thaumas and Fortitude. The Council of the Republic has delivered new orders to the Henrietta Admiralty and the Elephant Admiralty for live, joint amphibious exercises in the Clarencian Sea, on the islands of Thaumas and Fortitude; and for the Southern Constituent Republics to welcome the ERS Tegmentum and her group in the South Thaumantic, in an effort to reinforce our security during the period of joint admiralty maneuvers.

The Council of the Republic has deemed it necessary to present a new mandate to the Republic Navy; to secure the safety and liberty of all honest and free people of the Thaumantic Area, to dismantle the infrastructure of imperialism within the Thaumantic Area, and bring retribution to those responsible for the aggressive impositions upon the sovereignty of the First Republic.

 

[Great Engellex]

ORTHRUS
Part Two
ELEPHANT & CASLTE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

FRIDAY, 20 JULY 2018,

Entombed in the immaculate halls of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company's conception, the Southern Ministry, Count Vasili Andreyevich Vyzamitinov - the Lord Protector of the ETC, surveyed the room briefly, impassively. He did so with a regularity, and only when the observational drones of the SoCRER Joint Admiralty Training exercise panned their cameras out for maximum optical coverage of the simulated amphibious operation taking place on the islands of Thaumas and Fortitude, within the West Clarencian Sea. Since the authorisation of the live simulation, Operation Orthrus, the Lord Guarantor made his insistence know early on overseeing the developing situation of the exercises, the successes and the failures, until its objectives had been fully realised, that being to fully secure those two islands for ETC sovereignty. He was unwilling to surrender himself to paper trails, testimony that often fused with speculation, and that inspiration politicians often found from the whispered half-truths of mandarins; no, Count Vasili discovered the enthusiasm to command with authority, once more. The Duke of Clarence and Nolland, Lord Guarantor of the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, was also present, and was so at every such meeting alongside Count Vasili, both sitting in the middle of a long table of steel that faced a wall of highly encrypted digital visuals. Instead of the boorish ramblings, a remarked preserve of military characters, this Committee had maintained a dignified homogeneity, and assumed to itself the function of representing the staid nobility of the First Republic in a manner quite alike the expectations and realisations of any and all who, when fortune graces them, partake in the society of the drawing-rooms and halls of Admiralty Palace in Hammersmith. The eight others with seats at the table were the heads of their respective departments and operations of the Elephant and Henrietta admiralties, a majority of them, by one, women. Count Vasili knew their names, their career paths and psychological profiles, pay rates and political alliances and who they were sleeping with. Against the back wall with the entrance, personal assistants and staff pages stood in uncomfortable stillness.

The Count and the Duke exchanged a short glance consciously devoid of meaning. Count Vasili was absorbed by their silent conversation, and trying to piece the broken fragments of the minutes that passed by during his distraction. Two brilliant haughty eyes had been set, from the victory of genetics, with dominion over the Duke's face, and gave him that distinct appearance of being physically inclined, assertively, if not aggressively. Not even the effeminate cut of his tailoring could conceal the strength and physical refinement of his aristocratic form, some even whispered lustily at the glimpse of such a pack of muscle that should shift whenever his shoulders moved under his jacket. Count Vasili did not disagree, and was personally aware of how the Duke's body was capable of extraordinary leverage; there was a professional excellence in the intimacy of their relationship, after all. Standing before Parlement with Orthrus should be delayed until after the JAT has entered stabilization phase in its exercise, typed Count Vasili to the Duke, sitting next to him, through an encrypted personal device, a sophisticated piece of custom kit from Dog&Bone. If Rurikgrad and Trier succeed in pulling the continent into an all-out war, we cannot afford to have Orthrus slip behind the tempo... We have to move now before our actions could be deemed a greater threat and concern than the continental conflict, messaged the Duke. Before Count Vasili possessed a second for thought, Lord Horatio set a large, tense hand imperatively on the Count's inner left thigh, and caressed him with a slow curiosity. He was due to speak, but found himself subdued, impassioned, quite distracted, but he did not dismiss it, in fact, his only acknowledgement of the thrilling discomfort was the widening of the breach of his own legs.

That instance of relief, when Lord Horatio's hand was violating no more, ceasing to oblige the Count's attention, his emotion, Vasili found himself feeling that basic insecurity of not having been attentive enough to know what had been explained to him by the Admirals briefing them. My Lords, spoke Admiral Victoria Cobham of the Henrietta Admiralty. The first forty-eight hours of Operation Orthrus have been completed. There were three-hundred-thirty-eight bombing sorties since the start of simulated hostilities. All military and strategic targets across Thaumas and Fortitude were engaged and hit, with a special emphasis on striking the known locations and operations of the occupying administration - military and civic. While this has been taking place, thirty teams of special forces were sweeping every known hostile residence of the occupying administration, airstrips, and possible centres of civic communication that we would prefer to not be destroyed entirely, for humanitarian reasons. Our teams have been either directing the air strikes on the ground or quickly following in afterwards with ground forces to ensure the targets were eliminated, Admiral Victoria Cobham said. The coverage changed to that belonging to another drone, observing an entirely different situation, Admiral Ebenezer Arkwright continued this time. Our forces were tasked with attacking the central military command base in Fortitude and quickly apprehended General Red while they were trying to organise a defense of the city and the island. They also captured and secured the administrative centre, Admiral Arkwright said, allowing the Lord Protector a minute to ask questions before the brief was continued. Please continue, Admiral, instructed Count Vasili.

The Obscurion Department, of the Southern Ministry, subterranean and highly classified held within its bowls an executive sub-department, the Committee of Keelhaul Executive (CoKE). The Committee functioned within a hall, of decent proportions, and which shimmered in gold - quite literally, it was an imposing elegance with its twenty-four karat sheen coating of an area that was thirty meters in length and two stories in height. The hall was designed in the 1920's from a contemporary interpretation of the legendary keelhaul courts of the ETC's predecessor Companies; pirates and petty thieves who had the courage to undermine the ETC's rightful ownership of her bounty, would find themselves shackled within an oak panelled chamber, stacked high with the gold and precious loot of the Company, while a Board of Corrections decided the more appropriate ships for keelhaul - a punishment by dragging them under the keel of the ship. Today, the CoKE fulfills the role of an executive council for the security and military necessities of the ETC, and it was truly arrogant in its ambition, when contemplated, within a subterranean chamber of precious metal and sophisticated technology. For to know the Engell civilisation was to understand that the influence of the constituent Companies here was immutable and omnipresent. If the Competitors of the First Republic were capable of judging the Engells dispassionately, they might marvel - if not allow themselves to be numbed by awe at the sheer magnificence of our devotion to our idea of progress and civilisation, and the thrill in the particular way in which we pursue it. Public institutions were, regardless of their nature be it democratic, economic, justice or some other, at times unfathomably complex to the average woman and man on the street. For those nations that possessed the progress to build them, particularly on continents such as the new world of Echidna, it was enough just to create them for their function and purpose, they worked, let alone devote so much attention to aesthetics. Southern Engells, drawing on centuries of Northern architectural, technological and social influence, had constructed institutions throughout the Southern Constituent Republics that were unrivaled artistic and political masterpieces without reflection anywhere in Europe. It seemed most fitting that the First Republic sought a re-arrangement over the Thaumantic Ocean Area from these architecturally outward and other-worldly structures.

The Elephantine marines conducted a combat jump directly onto the Sim Brigida International airport and secured it for follow-on forces. The marines, in their entirety, completed their combat jumps and hit over a dozen locations across Sim Brigida. They have landed with their light tactical vehicles and two battalions of armour. They are currently securing the remainder of the city and expect to have it fully secured within the next seventy-two hours. One of the first major units we have landing at the airport is a brigade of military police. Once they land, we'll begin to filter them throughout the city to assume the policing duty while we keep our combat forces focused on finishing off the enemy military units, spoke Admiral Ebenezer. The Elephantine Admiralty quickly neutralized the Sim G Navy, either capturing what ships they could in port with the SBS, or destroying the ones they could not capture. Amphibious landings were made across the islands, and secured further landing points. The ETC construction crews would at this point be authorized to deploy to the islands. Admiral Cobham returned the briefing to the simulated war for Al-Kez, the Henriettan marines were leading amphibious and combat drop landings on Sim Roua, with follow-on forces en route to secure the positions across the borders with Legialle and Arthalan. The commanders on the ground believe the majority of Sim Kez will be secured within the next ninety-six hours, and full occupation of the territory will be accomplished within ten days as more follow-on forces land and begin to move to every major city and town in Sim Kez, she concluded. I am in awe at the confidence of Orthrus to liberate and secure those two territories so swiftly, said Count Vasili genuinely impressed. The North Thaumantic Ocean Area is not far from the direct reach of the Republic's military establishments, albeit NoCRER and Hammersmith, the Northern Theatre is undoubtedly the preserve of this Republic and easier for it to arrange at pleasure, Sir. The Continental War, and the tensions preceding, have provided much cover to the moves we have been making, and we do anticipate a complete surprise, still, at this point in time, advised Admiral Cobham. I want to make sure that once follow-on forces are in Sim Brigida and Sim Kez, that we are in a position to extract our front line troops, so they are ready immediately for anything further in the Thaumantic Ocean Area, instructed Count Vasili. Sir? Questioned Admiral Ebenezer. A requirement may be found to liberate the city of Maseru, at the EHTC's pleasure, informed the Duke. Parlement will discover itself persuaded with urgency to recognise by legislation the ETC's sovereignty over those two territories, on them being quite secured, I can quite guarantee it. Them being legitimised by Parlement will render them under the regular protection possessed of the Engellexian Republic Parlement, permitting the Hammersmith Admiralty and the Republic Air Force to extend greater firepower. Orthrus.. spoke the Count calmly. Thirty days. Just thirty days to have those three carrier strike groups readied.. and a fourth.. in forty-five, said Count Vasili. Sir.. Admiral Cobham said, in attempt to interrupt. One Commando Expeditionary Brigade - six amphibious reaction groups - and the follow-ons. The entire contingent, Admirals, spoke the Lord Guarantor of the ETC. At that moment, as the electrical blue haze of the visuals fell with conflicting affection over the golden glow of Count Vasili's face, his voice compelled them forward, in thought if not physically, to listen. Thirty days, he repeated. The belief to challenge faded as the reflected blue deserted Count Vasili's face on his departing movement, hastening a lingering regret of having made a serious commitment.

The two Lord Guarantors departed the Obscurion Department's CoKE, taking one of only two elevators, which instantly identified the two lords on their entry, and began its careful rise through the levels of the Southern Ministry. The elevator rose past the hive of the ETC's administration, its glass and steel form like a surveillance drone inspecting their productivity and civility; it past the heaving concourse of ground and first level public areas, and then into the dark shaft of the private, then classified levels of the building. To those who knew Count Vasili only by public reputation, his office was deceptively unassuming for his profile. It was on the south side of the building, with a view over the West Clarencian Sea. He had half of an entire floor with excellent views of Elephant, but not an entire level. The huge video screen that took up the vast majority of the northern wall was left off when it wasn't in active use, leaving it matte black. The other walls were floor to ceiling glass, an elegant separation of the interior from the exterior. The floor was dark stained wood, with an exceptional shine. The only decorations were a large round solid wood table of simple aesthetics, where he worked, in the centre of the office, with enough seats to accommodate the numbers he wanted. Count Vasili and the Duke of Clarence and Nolland walked to the southside glass. Beneath them, the metropolis spread out in vast concrete and steel, but seemingly suffocated by the embankments that kept it and the sea at peace.

In the bright sky, the sun burned. In the years Count Vasili had been at that table, in that office, everything had changed. The peace between the Rurikgrad Pact and its capitalist upstart brother the Trier Concordat had been an unshakeable constant for the Continent once. The imperialists upon the Thaumantic, Gallega, had been an annoyance and a haven for the regressed imaginations of Europe's renegades and troublemakers. The constituent Companies of the First Republic content with the post-sovereignty era. And then the unfortunate recognition that the Engellexian Republic, a self-described Thaumantic Power on the fringes of Europe, had been relegated to the status of a regional curiosity by the Great Powers, detached from concern and possessing as much interest as the price of bread in Bourgogne. How could anything be the same after that? They asked quietly, dejectedly in Parlement. Many insisted that it would be. The Rurikgrad and Trier nations? They're presently unsure, trying to determine among themselves, under the drum of their own military beats, whether they were permanent neighbours of peace, or deadly enemies. Gallega had been making noise, aggressive noise, and forming agreements that would place it on a trajectory for colliding with the national interests of the First Republic. And the Engellexian Republic? Parlement was moved to reform and advance the condition of the Republic Navy, but instead found itself securing first place in a naval arms race with itself, with peak naval and industrial activity in a generation for the purpose no one knew of yet. His Mightiness, the Lord Protector, spoke the virtual assistant for Count Vasili's Southern office. The two Lord Guarantors turned to the huge black screen on the wall behind them as it came to life. The link deceived Viscount Drake's location, not that he ever intended it privy, but he was at Admiralty Palace. The briefing was as one reasonably hoped? he asked. It exceeded expectations, said Count Vasili. We're venturing forward in respect of the Northern operation. They are commanded to mobilise all the necessary forces and are dutifully making arrangements with great care. The Lord Protector smiled, the hoped consensus was achieved? Count Vasili nodded, once I informed them so, quite achieved indeed. Myself and the Duke will be making out return to Hammersmith to personally address Parlement and deliver the formal exercise of the rights of the ETC and the EHTC over the Elephant and Henrietta admiralties.

Count Vasili Andreyevich Vyzamitinov, Lord Guarantor of the ETC, and Lord Horatio Saville, Duke of Clarence and Nolland, the Lord Guarantor of the EHTC, both believed it was time to expand the circle of knowledge with respect to those who are informed of the military operation for the contested territories in the Northern Thaumantic Ocean. They both did not require the consent of the Engellexian Republic Parlement to exercise their prerogative right, as prescribed by the Constitution, to assume authority and independence over the Elephant Admiralty (ETC) and the Henrietta Admiralty (EHTC), and thus launch a military wrestle for the contested territories. But the event was of such historical consequence that gaining their public, and private support would go a long way in preparing the Engellexian Republic, and Europe, for what was to come. The seat of Parlement, specifically Keeper's Hall, was an appropriate setting to share news of such magnitude, because it demonstrated clearly the respect and deference of the two Lord Guarantors to the power and sovereignty of Parlement. Inside, the hall was packed with peers and members of Parlement who had all come to be formally addressed by the Lord Guarantors of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company and the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, and to assess which way the political wind of the First Republic would blow, following this rare occurrence. Great beams of steel permitted the erection of this marvel of a box, of democracy and transparency. One-hundred-fifty-six meters in length, twenty-two meters in width, and thirty-one meters in height, it was the centre, the heart, that gave form and direction to the other parts of the Engellexian Republic Parlement that was still being constructed. It was democratic because it's central position and size allowed the Senate and the Bare Commons, and others, to be together, seated as one, united and sovereign Parlement for when the occasion demanded it; transparent, because the steel beam construction allowed Keeper's Hall to deviate from the exclusionary architecture of solid walls - there were no walls, the surrounding corridors were quite demonstrative of the hall's boundaries, but failing that there were great Corinthian columns of terribly defining size that concealed the steel beam construction beneath the beauty of classical Pelasgia. There was suddenly a change to the subdued clamour of Keeper's Hall, and heads - hundreds of them - started to turn towards the entrance. The natural rays of the early afternoon sun casted a truly holy illumination over the congregated; the white marble floor, its shine, and the sheer expanse of space was a well organised theatre of atmosphere and Engellexian spirituality, where the point of focus was assumed at the centre of the hall, upon a wide detail - a compass in design - incorporating the colours of Parlement - crimson, white, blue, yellow, and black - through the clever selection of Europe's most exquisite marble. There, they shall address them.

Count Vasili and Lord Horatio were silhouetted against the afternoon sun. There was something essentially regal about the resolute tilt of the two Lord Guarantor's heads and the steady pace at which they walked through the hall, flanked, and that was the only word for it, by their staff. They both stopped at the centre of the hall, the Colours of the Republic beneath their feet, where they were greeted by the Lord Speaker and Keeper of the Engellexian Republic Parlement, and the Speaker and Keeper - a sort of number two. I would like to extend the welcome of the Sovereignty of the Engellexian Republic Parlement to your Lordships, of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company and the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, on the occasion of your humble address to the Peers and Members of Parlement, he spoke. Hush consumed the hall as the two advanced a few more steps to assume their rightful, commanding position within Keeper's Hall. Count Vasili took inventory of his audience. As far as the Council of the Republic could tell, the Engellexian Republic Parlement was ignorant to the intention of the ETC and the EHTC, or that the Joint Admiralty Training in the Clarencian was a simulation exercise for the liberation of the contested territories by Orthrus. Southern President Seraphina Underwood, still in Elephant, SoCRER, was present by an encrypted link; Northern President Anne Siward attended in person. First Lord of the Elephant Admiralty, Admiral Ebenezer Arkwright, and the First Lord of the Henrietta Admiralty, Admiral Victoria Cobham, flanked the two Lord Guarantors. The Lord Protector was, obviously, not in attendance.

I stand before you, my Lords, Ladies and honourable members of Parlement, with purpose to address you the much considered concern of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company, as its Lord Guarantor, and as rightfully permitted per constitutional position. The importance of many of the subjects, which are to be addressed, will be submitted to your noble consideration, and I much urge gravity, spoke Count Vasili. The situation of the Company requires unanimity of support, and therefore I trust that none will be disposed to take any unreasonable grounds of objection to the address, which I shall by, and by have the honour of making, here.

From that moment of diminished cooperation, of respect, that had commenced from Serenierre to the Engellexian Republic, a sufficient ground of re-arrangement upon the position of Gallega and Borovanger, within the Northern Thaumantic Ocean Area, on the part of the Engellexian Republic, necessarily followed from the nefarious treaties and agreements of Villesen. The agreements between Serenierre and Gallega, and Serenierre and Borovanger, identified Gallega and Borovanger with the imperialist endeavours of Serenierre, by a virtual acknowledgement of unqualified vassalage, and by specific stipulations of unconditional offence.

By the articles of those agreements Gallega and Borovanger convenanted to furnish a contingent of naval and military force for the prosecution of any war in which the Serenien Republic might think proper to engage - they both specifically surrendered any right or pretension to enquire into the nature, origin, or justice of Serenierre's wars. They stipulated, in the first instance, their forces of ground, air and sea, which, of itself, comprises no moderate proportion of the means at their disposal; but in the event of their contingent being at any time found insufficient for the purposes of Serenierre, they further bound themselves to put into a state of activity the utmost force, by sea, land and air, that it should be within their power to collect. They covenanted that their forces should be at the disposal of Serenierre, to be employed conjointly or separately for the annoyance of the common enemy; thus submitting their entire power and resources to be used as the instruments of Serenien ambition and aggression, and to be applied in whatever proportion Serenierre might think proper, for the avowed purpose of endeavouring to subvert the sovereignty, and destroy the existence of the civilisation of the Engellexian Republic.

The character of such treaties gave the Engellexic Thaumantic Company an incontestable right to declare to Gallega and Borovanger, that unless they decidedly renounced those agreements, or surrendered the administration and claim to the contested territories of the Coldherberge Isles and Magna Risberge - securing the Company, and the Engellexian Republic, from a terrible disadvantage should they perform their obligations as they have publicly suggested, both Gallega and Borovanger would not be considered as neutral powers in respect of the Thaumantic Ocean Area. This right, however, for prudential reasons, and from motives of forbearance and tenderness toward European tranquility, was not exercised in a full and immediate extent; and, in consequence of assurances of a pacific disposition on the part of the the Serenien Government at the time, I did not, at that time, insist on a distinct and formal renunciation of those agreements.

There are leading circumstances which characterise the reiterated abuse of the Engellexian Republic's moderation - Gallegan aggression upon our commerce and liberty, Serenierre's imperialism without opposition, and the State-sanctioned atrocities commenced against the Engellexic ethnicity in Magna Risberge and the Coldherberge Isles, each of them truly are of a nature to have sufficiently exhausted less our system of leniency and forbearance. Such has been the conduct of Gallega and Borovanger, and it is under these circumstances that the Engellexic Thaumantic Company finds the domineering influence of Serenierre exerted, and the Gallegan and Borovangian nations in a state of declared and open hostility toward us.

I, as Lord Guarantor of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company, spoke Count Vasili. And I, as the Lord Guarantor of the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, informed the Duke of Clarence and Nolland. Appeal with confidence to you all, the Engellexian Republic Parlement, for the acknowledgement of ours, and your own, exemplary moderation in the whole course of these aggressive transactions. We, the Lord Guarantors of the Constituent Companies of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company and the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, feel, with regret, the necessity which has placed us both in a position to recognise the prerogative rights per the observation of the Constitution, and assume, with a dignified and urgent sense of Company and Republic importance of purpose, our independent exercise of sovereign rights to command, without condition on our liberty, the Admiralties of Elephant, and of Henrietta.

The Lord Guarantors of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company and the Engell-Himyar Trading Company had restored, a first since the nineteenth century, their independent command over the Elephant Admiralty and the Henrietta Admiralty.

 

[Great Engellex]

ORTHRUS
Part Three
ELEPHANT & CASLTE
SOUTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

The room was a vast and arrogant space. It belonged to the Lord Guarantor of the Engell-Himyar Trading Company, Lord Horatio Saville the Duke of Clarence and Nolland, who, like the Southern President at Meridian One, and the Lord Guarantor of the Engellexic Thaumantic Company at the Southern Ministry, found comfort and authority in vast and architecturally forward spaces. Many prefer smaller rooms. You can see everything around you in a smaller, certainly personal-sized room, you can contain the events occurring within its space with no effort required. You cannot see everything around you here, the dimensions are truly overwhelming, an entire storey dedicated for a single, personal room. The ability to contain the events that occur within a room of this size, of this importance, as to not permit them to spiral out of control, requires something different. In Dulwich, the former capital metropolis of the First Republic, and historical centre of NoCRER affairs, Lord Horatio Saville had obligatory residences, for political and social necessities; architecturally indulgent, that possessed rich histories of their own, several hundreds of years in age, and gilded to a sickness in gold, but not here. East Republic House, the epicentre of the EHTC, was in Henrietta, Mary-le-Bone, SoCRER. The only intimacy within this space was within its centre. Built into the structure of the entire building was a cascading curtain of golden sand and, some thirty meters parallel, one of water; it flowed with a hiss from the tall ceiling, down through the floor of steel skeleton and reinforced glass, as all floors in the building were, and farther, through every storey, even gracing the Hall of Considerations, before reaching subterranean levels where it will commence its journey again, and again. It is between these two features that, excluding the hive of administrators beneath you, one allowed a false sense of privacy, security. Hidden above this room, above this particular space, was a camera lens, one of tens located within this room, and of tens of thousands throughout Elephant and Castle, and Henrietta. The visual and audio data was routed directly through a system of such high classification that it existed outside the oversight of the First Republic, and its own classification system, but was instead a particularly careful, and terribly intrusive tool of the Office of the Southern President. The data was encrypted, and required biometric authentification for access that only one person could provide, Southern President Seraphina Underwood. Regularly was the information, so widely gathered, converted for thorough observation and consideration of events, unfolding in real time and not, before the Southern President at Meridian One.

A baritonal moan cut through the normally smooth hiss of the audio received from the delicate equipment hidden above the centre of the Lord Guarantor's office at East Republic House. Seraphina Underwood had maintained a constant, uninterrupted feed for the past two hours, but the visual had been minimised. Her own office at Meridian One was decidedly more vast, and despite possessing a proportionately sized electronic screen that dwarfed those who stood before it, the Southern President had a preference with not allowing her office to become too overcrowded with visual information. They had sank to the floor, she could now see, and there was movement back and forth between the well defined pectorals of a smooth, alabaster chest; a resistance possessing of some rigidity within its spring as they connected with his face, back and forth. There was hunger, primal and somewhat aggressive, in his hands, with nails clawing upon the flanks that were now exposed, and the swelling ache which was becoming. Events were unfolding before them :- war had tactfully erupted in Gallia-Germania, and the Government of Legialle had agreed to terms with the Engellexic Thaumantic Company, and now moments away was a singular event of quite some importance to the First Republic. But here we are, she thought. The Constitution of the Engellexian Republic, by its history and tradition, recently exercised, provided the ETC and the EHTC with a military extension to their influence, by the Elephant and Henrietta Admiralties. All that was required, now, was to authorise the deployment; instructions to be executed immediately by the nearly one-hundred-thousand women and men of the Elephantine and Henriettan admiralties, as delivered through a secure electronic system from the Lord Guarantors. Because of the natural, and much personal union of the Lord Guarantor of the ETC, and the Lord Guarantor of the EHTC, the reaction of the two admiralties would be as swift as a single instruction from the Republic Naval Council for the Republic Navy, on behalf of the Engellexian Republic Parlement, as opposed to the ETC and EHTC - but only if they were decided in their thought to act.

They scrabbled feverishly at each other's clothing, mouths trembling with the need to fill themselves. One had settled over the other, a stubble rasped faintly over the firm smoothness of the stomach, mouth making wet prints on its path downward. At the other end of this particular world, he was pulsing in the other's hand, a mouth closing over, and a gentle friction. The Southern President's fingers stroked the rhodium trim of the console that was inlaid on her lengthy, gargantuan ebony table, then the console, and the visual maximised across the entirety of the two-hundred inches of the highest definition screen. She rose from her chair to face the glass exterior behind her, it held the view of the Elephantine warships in the bay. The sun high over Echidna gleaned off the immaculate surface of the white stone flooring, illuminating the immense space with an almost eerie, sterile white radiance; the glass exterior that enveloped the entire storey, but for one wall - that which held the pornographic curiosity and the entrance - possessed the only colour in this aseptic space. The stilettos of her faux leather pumps struck the stone beneath her with every determined, measured step, unleashing a smacking echo that rung out like thunder. At the far end of the floor, where the length of the table concluded, were refreshments. Seraphina Underwood preferred to have to actually move, for hers. A bulbous jug of stainless steel and glass held water that was both purified and deliciously cool, beside it was a round dish of solid gold with a healthy composition of green and purple grapes, and next to that another dish with three lines of, less nutritional, cocaine. Seraphina Underwood did not exclude herself for the Engell cultural celebration of vice, as they were so termed elsewhere in Europe, but alike the majority of the aristocracy she held herself to a set of standards to adhere by should she, and when she decides to partake. One of those, and most importantly, was that given the delicately undignified process of consuming cocaine, it was only to be done when unseen, though that isn't to say it is a secret, just not to be seen doing it, the enjoyment however is a truly public and celebrated affair. Seraphina Underwood massaged the last of that one line on to her gums. She rested her right hand on the table top, her perfectly manicured nails tapping in a slow rhymic drum, observing the electronic display of the situation at East Republic House, listening to their moans.

From her vantage point at Meridian One, Seraphina could also see the ERN Typhoon's Eye, the flagship of the Elephant Admiralty, a Gloriana-class aircraft carrier. Carrier Strike Group Two had only that week returned from war game exercises, and was subsequently made ready as per the Lord Guarantor's instructions. Their climaxes were building rapidly and with unerring concurrence, they were blending. Craned between the thighs, lips latched on the excruciating tautness of that which was becoming desperate for release, allowing for no distinction between the two as another's thighs fought to clamp around the head at the other end. There was grunting, but from which throat it came from the Southern President was not able to discern. Their individuality dispersed into a shared sensory overload, tension building layer after layer, peak after peak, and then suddenly release, in a warm, salty kind of way. For a while they were both at their most vulnerable intimacy, that trembling release, in which the slightest movement, the sliding of flesh against flesh brought groaning spasms from both; it was that in which she had always felt the greatest pleasure in. Lord Horatio Saville did eventually roll off, on to his back beside the other, top and tail. The other was Count Vasili Andreyevich Vyzamitinov, the Lord Guarantor of the ETC. Seraphina Underwood looked down at an empty glass in her left hand, it once held water, and the policy reports that she had been reviewing for last twenty-four hours for the Congress of the Southern Constituent Republics. There had been a selloff in Loago stocks recently due to nationalisations and the general instability of that territory. It was the Southern President's responsibility to know the numbers cold and prepare the Southern Congress for what policy she decided to take in response to this posing economic and political disturbance. She watched again the two Lord Guarantors lying supine, before she would depart for the Southern Ministry the Southern President would have arranged, for her own pleasure, some sort of stimulating entertainment. A homoerotic contest of survival between two Capital Duties devoid of clothing and weaponry? She had choices.

Sixty Elephantine and Henriettan warships sliced across the serene scape of the rippling blackness of the West Clarencian sea in a glorious spectacle of power more reminiscent of an imperial review than a liberating force. Among its ranks were three carrier strike groups formed around three Gloriana-class aircraft carriers, each one three-hundred-twenty-six meters in length and displacing some eighty-three-thousand tons; these were escorted by five Trident-class cruisers, eleven Bellerophon-class destroyers, six Intrepidus-class frigates, and thirteen Hammersmith-class attack submarines. All of these vessels sailed in a symmetric formation around the three carriers, two of which were the majestic flagships of the South : ERN Typhoon's Eye and ERN Whirlwind's Scream, whose presence was so breathtaking that is was decided to conceal the immense power of these warships under the cover of darkness, than encourage the flippancy of international media. The surface fleets of the Engellexian Republic Navy were a triumph of Engellexian engineering, that even now was industrially engaged in the construction of an entirely new era of capital warships and the supports. Designed to project power in any potential battleground that should be contested within the Thaumantic Ocean, they contained within their bowels squadrons of fighters to eviscerate opposing warships, and even to extend supremacy over the interiors of the Thaumantic Ocean Area. Gliding behind the majesty of the Elephantine and Henriettan naval formations, a procession of commissioned amphibious and dock landing vessels belonging to the Marines, and surrounded by forty non-commissioned auxiliary vessels, were taking a highly visible route to the North Thaumantic Ocean behind the armada of warships. Upon entering the North Thaumantic Ocean, a fourth carrier strike group formed around the ERN Eurybia's Revenge would join the operation; a delayed arrival owing to the restrictions of readiness. The second carrier strike group of the Hammersmith Admiralty, that belonging to the ERN Gloriana's Agony, was already present within the West Clarencian Sea, and is authorised to remain there for the duration of northern operations being undertaken. ERN Tempest's Heart, the flagship of Hammersmith, and of the Engellexian Republic Navy, was herself, and her group, being mobilised for eventualities that might occur in the North Thaumantic. The necessity of the Hammersmith Admiralty to be in a position of reaction was seen across the whole of Cerberus, with every squadron and flotilla, surface and submarine, following instructions of general mobilisation. Of the Engellexian Republic Marine Corps, only Admiral Killigrew's Blue Foot (Elephant) and Lady Mary's Pink Foot (Henrietta) had received orders; with the operational assistance of the Air Corps, and the diplomatic arrangement between the ETC and the Government of Legialle, the 2nd and 3rd Marine Divisions, and attachments, were being transported from SoCRER to Legialle, a mammoth undertaking of logistics. The 2nd and 3rd Marine Expeditionary Brigades were already aboard the vessels that will soon form their task forces upon passing the Islands of Hope. This was arguably the most dramatic deployment of the Republic Navy since the Revolutionary Wars of the 1920's, definitely by numbers, but it wasn't the Engellexian Republic Parlement authorising these deployments, as they weren't technically Parlement's ships, they belonged to the ETC and the EHTC. The two Lord Guarantors had, by this point, evidently relayed orders for deployment.

 

[Great Engellex]

EMASCULATED
HAMMERSMITH
NORTHERN CONSTITUENT REPUBLICS​

The insolent and tumultuous argument, that did not disappoint in prolonging and intensifying the fury and humiliation smacked across the face of the First Republic, continued to elude its leaders, even still as they were being herded by the self-awareness of its urgency into the chamber of the Council of the Republic; though the possessed sharp physical memory of the Southern President that, in the course of this extraordinary diplomatic - international incident erupting, could still unwillingly recollect the intermittent beads of sweat forming just above the temples and becoming a crisis in itself, undoing the perfection of the presidential blue dress suit and blunt, sleek blonde bob, not unlike now. The notion became quickly apparent to Seraphina Underwood of the requirement for an unusual sitting of the Council of the Republic, with everyone in person, in Hammersmith. Each of them needed to be heard on what needed to be said over and over, even suffering the frustrations of the unimaginative repetition of one's repertoire; this was, a crisis.

The aggression of the conveyed regality of the presidential, military commander of the Southern President was rung out through the halls of Admiralty Palace with every strike of one of those vertiginous black leather heels. There was no presidential blue. She was understated in an undeniably provocative way; high-neck, long-sleeve silhouette, incredibly body aware but severe, with epaulets to evoke her patriotic affection for one's own military. Palette? Black, with silver trim. Blonde bob? Cut on a knife's edge. The preponderance of power in this one individual of the Republic was at times second to none, perhaps this was one of those times; regardless of whether she can be confident in the domestic ranking of first or second, the Southern President does not endure the indelicate timing of travelling to Hammersmith - even on the Ēastre supersonic jet Southern Prime - without the expectation of being immediately received and understood. The Lord Chamberlain announced the arrival of Lady Seraphina Underwood, President of the Southern Constituent Republics of the Engellexian Republic to the Hall of Reflection, the extravagant Stately arena of the Lord Protector's Apartments.

Insisting with that competitive firmness to tradition, unable to conceal the Southern zeal for the equality of privilege in the partake of ritual too enlightened for any other civilisation in Europe; Seraphina Underwood, supported by her retinue of two ladies and three gentlemen aides, reassured the Lord Protector by their focus of face that carried the sublime confidence of Southern intent and courage, and brought their arms forward, to level with the floor, without hesitation or insecurity. With a steely elegance, they crossed their ankles at the spread of the arms, and performed the bend of the knee. Lowering themselves gracefully to the floor without pause of eye contact with their Lord Protector, the Southern President, with the two ladies behind her and the three gentlemen behind them, brought their foreheads, in precise unison, to the floor before his Mightiness, in a demonstration of the difficultly dignified performance of a Southern Dip curtsy. There was a moment of silence, providing an air in the glittering hall, allowing them to rise with a serenity they didn't quite have upon their earlier drop. The Southern President had arrived, and arrived she did, earnest and without diminishing.

I cannot escape the thought of deficiency in this expression, Lady Seraphina, spoke the Lord Protector concerned. Their names had been written down by the pen held by her fingers. The three ships that formed her expression included two hospital vessels and a destroyer. If it came to a struggle upon the azure domain, they wouldn't be significant, and because of that fact, the Cannies would only take offence if they were looking for an excuse. The Southern President didn't believe they would, and if she were proven wrong? That would be quite interesting too. In few cultures, it does occur to them to actually respect the needs of the sick and infirm; to provide them with what they need. I am convinced Vesper would agree in Europe seeing Angelli-Lexens rise to that occasion, regardless of where one sits on the Thaumantic, answered Seraphina. Viscount Drake, the Lord Protector, smiled as capable as any could with a seemingly unthoughtful pessimism. And the ships? He asked. The Merciless, the Discomfort, and the Black Heart, Sir, answered Seraphina Underwood, her voice dropping an octave lower, and thrilling an unease through the Council. Quite, indeed - those ships. I would prefer the endeavour with no more difficulty, and be sufficiently less ugly - in receipt of this.. petition? Asked the Viscount. I appreciate your candour. Everything will happen exactly as it should, she answered. The Southern President seized upon a momentary silence to inspect her colleagues of the Council of the Republic. Hospital vessels, and a sole destroyer to escort them. The Cannies will not be contemplating mortality - ours or theirs. They have their victory, but that is all they'll have while I am Southern President.

The Pox? Questioned Northern President Lady Anne Siward. The Pox, repeated Seraphina Underwood, her voice breaking off, and ceasing to compel anymore attention to the Cannie assertion. They are squaring the outbreak as an incident that my Company is responsible for, interjected the Lord Guarantor of the ETC calmly. Yes, I have seen the rumour, smiled the Southern President. I honestly believe ours was better. Referring to the public statement by King Felix, and the intention of Hammersmith to circulate the suggestion that Tiburan Catholic Missionaries were carrying infections across borders, illegally. It is meaningful that they have carried this this far, but the international credibility of the Republic is finished - a strong declaration, I know - but do consider the composition of their victory. Mormons, muslims, Tiburans, communists, monarchies, a truly complex axis with only one interest common to them all - us. Their achievement was secured without the heavy lifting of evidence - medical or intelligence - demonstrating the ease to which Europe aligns, or chooses to align, in opposition to us.

We must think about what this has done to us, the First Republic. The whole of Europe. Them and us and the rest of Europe. It isn't healthy, but concerning having monarchy, communism, and religion right there, either side, watching them be - watching them exist. I know you want me - us to turn away and be concerned with matters as though Europe were the same as before this incident, but this Council knows better. Emasculating. That is the term I would use to convey the nature and consequence of this incident.

The response of this Council, it is a decision that will outlive our collective terms in Office, but also become part of what will forever define the First Republic. We should, and we will consider any and all informed opinion, but - we need to understand - the choice can only be this.