Guerre de résistance anti-gauloise (Anti-Gallic Resistance War)

Discussion in 'The World Stage' started by Petites-Pays, Sep 19, 2019.

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  1. Petites-Pays

    Petites-Pays Well-Known Member

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    Joseph Bolongo sat in his chair amused with his accomplishment. Being able to kill the King and countless others with the push of a button. A few button actually were required as he had to make a phone call to give the authorization. No matter, he would tell the press in the future it was just the push of a button.

    Bolongo was a man of modest stature, and wore his black beret with a random Kadikistani emblem on his with a certain sense of revolutionary flair that he found amusing. His supporters were a mix of Himyarites and ideologies. Bolongo did not care for ideological games though. His own game was independence and he was to be Nzadiland’s strongman. How he did it did not matter. The problem was it seemed his revolutionaries while proving capable in the beheading of the snake were unable to realize that merely cutting off the head of a snake did not win a war. The Anti-Gallic Forces in Louisville were unable to complete their raid of the important governmental buildings. Even still Bolongo sat happily. The King was dead, his mother was dead, his wife was dead, an entire set of guards, and whoever else was in company were also dead. A revolution was not won in one night.

    There was a knock on the door. « Yes, come in » replied Bolongo. The door opened and his second in command, Mubutu Motombo saluted. « President! We are ready to broadcast your message to the people! » Bolongo smiled, « Excellent! I shall join you at once ». Bolongo half-heartedly returned the salute and Motombo left the room leaving the door open behind him. Bolongo removed his beret and walked over to the mirror. He was in army fatigues covered in a camouflage that was similar to the type used by Natalians in Loago. Surplus items like this could be found across Nzadiland. He put on a similarly camouflaged cap with five general stars on the face and smiled as he walked into the adjacent room. It was not a particularly large room. Perhaps a dining room at one point in time. The house they were residing in was probably once owned by a Small Lander mogul who had long left this life behind. Motombo quietly motioned for Bolongo to stand on some electrical tape affixed to the floor to indicate where to stand. Bolongo walked there and Motombo counted down with his fingers from ten...

    « People of Nzadiland! Today I can tell you that the King is dead! His death is not one that should be mourned, but one that should be celebrated! I proclaim this day the Independence Day of Nzadiland and the proclamation of the Democratic People’s Republic of Nzadiland! As I speak, our paramilitaries raid offices across our vast nation. Our independence will not be given to us though. Every action we take will have an resisting action, but fear not as our people have the heart to win every battle that we may face. I pledge our people to the cause of Himyari socialism and this doctrine of equality for all Nethians. You may have heard of this before as Bolongo’s promise, but I am not a man of such vanity. » He shook his finger with disapproval.

    « No, no, no. I am a man of the people, and so this is Nzadi Socialism with characteristics of Bolongo’s promise. This belongs to you, and I shall only have a guiding hand in your freedom from the empires of the Gallians. We will crush the Gallians that will want to take us for fools and steal our land and our materials for their own profits. Their boot will be removed from our head and place swiftly in their behind! I will take us there, and I alone can take us there! Nzadiland forever! Nzadiland for freedom! » He shook his fist and held it in a pose before the cellphone cameraman gave him the okay fingers. Bolongo smiled. His revolution had begun.
     
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  2. Petites-Pays

    Petites-Pays Well-Known Member

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    There was a thick smell of smoke in the air. Over the past week since the death of the King and the Declaration of Independence, Nzadiland had broken out into civil war. If you were white, you were dead. There was little way for the white man to prove he did not fight for the enemy. Why risk it? They were shot. Of course with the exception of women and children. There were always a need for those. However, today three boys were at their knees with guns to their head.

    A man with in complete Natalian camouflage and wearing sunglasses with a cleanly shaven beard and bald head walked over to the three boys. « Bring the father and have him stand over there», he summoned his men. They promptly did so. All four now had guns at them. The bald man walked over the eldest boy. « Boy, you must shoot your father and pledge your allegiance to me ». He handed the boy a revolver. The boy spat. « No! » The bald man shot the boy. Muffled cries accompanied the father yelling incoherently. He repeated the offer to the next boy. This boy took hold of the revolver and pointed it at his father and shook. He couldn’t pull the trigger. « Boy, you must shoot him or else I will have to shoot you too. My name brings no terror if I do not follow through. You know my name, yes? » The Boy shook head. Tears streaming. « Boy, I am Jean XIII. You know why they call me that? Of course not. You do not know who I am. You see, my mother was a prisoner. A slave. She named me Jean. I am 13 because 13 men raped her and we do not know who my father is. My mother was killed when I was 15 and I vowed vengeance. I got it. 12 of those men are dead because of my hand. Only 12 because I think I know my daddy. We have the same eyes... nose too if you ask some other people. He lives because he is my daddy. He’ll just never have sex again because of the punishment I gave him. I am the owner of a mine after I killed the white people who ran it. Bolongo gave me this army. So boy... you know who I am now... so you will give me that gun now and run to the next village. Tell him Jean XIII is coming for them too. » The boy dropped the gun and ran.

    Jean picked up the gun and gave it to the last boy. « Now you must shoot your daddy. Fear not, afterward we will eat his liver and you will have his strength. » The father listening frantically asked, « Why!? How is this part of Bolongo’s promise!? » Jean smiled. His golden teeth in full display as the smile turned to an exaggerated laugh. « Bolongo never had control! He sits in his mansion and speaks to the world on the internet. His generals like me do all the lifting. We keep the order he could never have himself. Bolongo will be killed for his error of killing a white man’s king. Me? I will rule my part of the jungle until I die. The white man cannot win here. I am here. So are the other generals Bolongo appointed. Embrace the chaos. » Jean XIII then looked at the boy. « Shoot him. Don’t blame me for his death. You did it. » The boy looked at his father who spoke to him, « Shoot me my son. Just promise me you’ll grow up some day to help the poor and embrace Jesus as your lord and savior. » The boy nodded, « Yes, papa ».

    Jean XIII smiled as the gun went off. He had gained another prisoner that he would put to work in the mines. Meanwhile his army would continue to the next village. The Generals of Bolongo’s Army all were different, and all ruled in their own way. None of them coordinated either. None of them had even spoken to Bolongo in over two weeks. Nothing could stop this reign of terror though. Not when war raged in Burgundy and kept the white man’s attention there.
     

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