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Shadows of a Red Sun

Joined
Apr 18, 2010
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1,109
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The South
OOC: This is intended as a sort of "Home Front" style thread for the influences and effects of the ongoing events in "Red Sun Rising", namely the increasing involvement of the Communist Powers in not just the Yujin Civil War but also the simultaenous development of the People's Republic of Vangala and its invasion by the Yujin Imperial Army.

IC:

People's Army Barracks,
Whyteston, Carnshire


It began with a Transfer Order. At first, the Quartermaster was sure it was another typo, since the quality of paperwork in the People's Army had been mediocre for years and it was common for the Logistics Corps to rely on local "know-how", rather than professional typists or their own records. This was an understandable side-effect of the purges, and of an Army that was at any one time made up at least two-thirds of conscripts half-assing everything to meet their National Service quota. Most of them either went on to Higher Education or back to working the land or on the assembly lines of the factories.

So, it was not unusual to recieve garbled or generally shoddy quality documents, as Quartermaster Henry Short well knew. However, the nature of the order gave him pause, so, blowing his nose heavily into a ragged hankerchief, the part-time Quartermaster and full-time Co-operative Treasurer(there was no such thing as an Accountant, but someone had to keep track of inflow and outflow) picked up the battered phone on his desk, and phoned Regional Headquarters.

"Hello, this is Whyteston, calling Greathampton. Asking for confirmation on an Order 111401. Yes, thats right, 111401. No, I'll hold." He drummed his fingers on his desk, whilst the clerk on the other end went to get someone to confirm. Getting anything done at this level in the People's Army was time-consuming at best, but that was ok. Short didn't have much else to do right now, since it was still only Early Spring, and his Regiment was mostly made up of people on sick leave from the flu, or busy cleaning the mud and shit off the wheels of their five-tonnes, or maybe strolling around town with heavy service-batons, lording it over the Carnies.*

"Ah, you back? Good. So, yes, it was Order 111401. Yes, I just want to confirm that this Transfer Order is entirely correct. You see, the copy I have- oh? Yes? From the top you say? Really? No way! You're sure? Oh, I'm sorry, didn't realise Sarnt Major, of course. I'll make sure it happens as soon as possible. Sooner! Haha, yes, my mistake. Ah-" The phone clicked, hung up from the other end. Well, this was most unusual and no mistake. An order from Central in Westhaven, of all things. No Typo. Henry Short frowned. Most irregular. Still, it wasn't like it would do any harm. The boys were hardly using them anyway, and when were they likely to ever need them?

He signed off at the bottom of the Order, and went to inform his assistants, and the Captain in charge of the Barracks. Looks like they'd be doing something this March, afterall.
====================================
Whyteston Engine Factory,
Carnshire


Overseer Hart tapped the Production Order thoughtfully. It was clearly in error. There was no way, with all the Orders he'd gotten lately, that they could fulfill this. He was sure someone was fucking around. That, or the 'crats up in Greathampton had gone insane. Did they not realise what he had to work with? 200 feckless, lazy Carnie women, assembling engines with the speed of a glacial snail, chatting to each other and gossiping and smoking, despite his best efforts to instill some real discpline here. Worse, the material they had to work with was often shoddy at best, a fact he attributed to the fact that the Miners, Smelters, Formers and probably even the Overseers over westaways were all fucking Carnies too.
One day, there will be trouble. Hart knew. Too many Carnies everywhere. They tried it less than 18 years ago, theyll try it again. Ungrateful shits.

Striding along the metal gantryway, looking down at the sorry excuse for assembly lines, watching the parts fall down from the hopper onto the assembly line, seeing the crude engines being slowly put together by 200 of the ugliest women he had ever known, so ugly he didnt even care to abuse his authority and force them to sleep with him, something his predessecor had done with impunity untill someone had accused him of revisionism back in the day and that was the last they ever saw of him. Probably some Carnie bitch making up lies, as usual.

"Alright, everyone listen up! I said listen up!" He shouted, picking up a loud-hailer. Intercoms were the preserve of the rich. Even with the loud-hailer, hardly anyone could hear him over the grind of machinery. He didn't dare stop production for the quiet it would bring. Even a few minutes delay could mean the balance between life and death with the people who mattered, the Government Contractors and the Co-operative Reps. Luckily, there was a law that allowed a minority representation to exist in Co-operatives where Carns were a majority, so Hart didn't have to consider the absolute nightmare scenario of having to anwser to Carnies.

Impatient, he settled instead on writing out his instructions on some cards, and then passing them down the line, and keeping an eye on the women to make sure they all read it. He hoped they could all read, fuckin Carnies were useless in school too, sometimes even refusing to speak English. Hart could stew for hours on all the ways the Carns annoyed and disgusted him.

The women seemed to lose their usual dull and carefree expressions, and grew even more sullen, some even angry. He made sure they all understood what was being asked.

The Foremen came to him, asking if this was correct. He told them it was. "Straight from the top. Unpaid overtime for everyone to make it happen. No excuses." The Foremen spluttered. "But, Carnie women we can understand, but making -us- work overtime..."
"Everyone. No exceptions. This has to be done. You know what happens when Gov contracts aren't met."
"We're already OVERLOADED with Gov contracts! We have 4 lines, which means 4 engines an hour, at peak ability. That means, optimally speaking, we can churn out 24 engines in a working day, maybe 32 if we really really push it. Thats 32 two-cylinder car engines, not truck engines, not tank engines, not jet engines or boat engines or any other kind. Tractor engines in a pinch, maybe, we do alot of agri work, but car engines, mostly. Not good engines, Not fast engines, but engines that dissatisfy everyone equally. Making what this Order asks for is completely out of the ques-"
"I FUCKING KNOW, ALRIGHT?" Hart roared. "Its ridiculous! Who the fuck is in charge up there? But in charge they are! You know what happens to those who don't get it done."

The Foremen grumbled, mostly because they knew they could. Something that Hart only tolerated because he needed the support of fellow ethnically Havenite people to run this place. Otherwise he'd take stronger measures against such rank insubordination.

"How do you even -build- a flamethrower?" one Foreman openly mused. "They certainly didnt teach that back in Shop class."

"There's a rough schematic we can get from the Barracks up the road, if we need to. Apparently they've been ordered to help out, too."

=======================================
Embassy of Vangala,
Westhaven


Deputy Foreign Minister John Key shook hands with the Vangalan emissary, offering him tea and biscuits and all the amenities he could. The Foreign Ministry was in the doghouse, metaphorically speaking, and had been since Macclesfield had crushed their bid for greater policy independence with the Danmark Scandal. That some of their staff were now People's Heroes over the Liangang Affair didn't seem to matter. The Premier- for, despite all pretense over law to the contrary, that was what he was, now- had moved masterfully and with brute force to cut off the Ministy of Foreign Affairs tendrils into other branches of government. How Macclesfield had developed such a good relationship with the PA and the CIB was something of a mystery, one that Wilkes had fumed over, and tried to use his remaining friends in CIB and the Air Force to sniff out, but without much luck.

But the net effect was that they were now required to work full-time on making this grand, ridiculous People's Crusade a reality. At first, it hadn't seemed too bad a foreign policy iniatitive, even if it had been hypocritical of Macclesfield to agree so readily to it. Supply the Hongmenghui. Perhaps difficult in terms of distance, but on paper it seemed a fine commitment to socialist principles, and one that couldn't hurt Havenshire overall. Certainly it was a popular proposal, and one people could more readily understand and get excited over than his ridiculous Prospero Plan.

But as they had dug deeper, it became readily apparent that to reach the Hongmenghui, they'd have to cross the world's most formidable mountain range. To get to those mountains, theyd have to cross hundreds of miles of practically primeval and unspoilt rainforest. To get to the rainforest, more miles of rice farms, choking, barely industrialised cities, and thousands of miles of hostile sea.

Every step back from their goal to home seemed more and more insane and nightmarish. But the Ministry was under great pressure to deliver, and to smooth everything over so that Macclesfield could posture in front of the People's Assembly, and show all the great and glorious work he was doing -now- for the people's cause. He needed policy wins, and he needed them fast. He needed them because, as Key was smart enough to realise, even with the support of the People's Army and the CIB, Macclesfield simply -couldn't- rule by fear and terror, the way Walker could. Even if Macclesfield wanted to, that apparatus relied too much on the unique force of Walker's personality, a factor which, when removed, had led to this balkanisation of government, each Ministry carving out its own Kingdom and trying to direct the entire ship of state seperately. As much as Key had supported his boss Wilkes in doing exactly that, he also couldn't fault Macclesfield for wanting to stop that.

And the only way he could re-assert total control was to win the unwavering loyalty of the People's Assembly, and, by extension, the heart of the people themselves. Democracy, of a kind.

As the meeting with the Vangalan Ambassador dragged on, Key nodded and smiled in all the right places, offering assurance and agreement after agreement. Invaded by Yujin you say? How terrible! You want material aid for the war itself? Well, that might be tricky. Yes, we're committed to supplying the Hong- Look, there's no need to make such threats. Of course your troops also need aid in fighting the good fight. What about...Flamethrowers? Hundreds of them, naturally. Its all jungle and wetland on the border, right? Naturally, Flamethrowers will even the fight. We're already building roads, help you get supplies about yes? Weapons? Well, I suppose we can spare some more rifles and ammunition, but the Flamethrowers surely count?

The meeting went on in such a vain, with Key making promise after promise to the Vangalan Ambassador. In exchange, he asked for the only things Vangala could really give, which he was instructed to ask for so the Vangalans didn't feel like a charity case. Rice. Rice, Spice, and all things nice. Macclesfield was already dreaming of setting up Curry houses around the nation, feeding the people with a new, inexpensive foodstuff. An end to famine, by way of the gratitude of our brown brothers in the east. He was a fine one for dreaming, the Premier.

Key smiled, almost cracking his face. All this pressure, something had to give. The shitpipe would burst someday. And the Foreign Ministry would be standing by, ready with the long knives, to depose this fool of a Premier.


*=Carnies, a derogatory term for the Carnish, a minority ethnicity resident in the Southwest part of Havenshire, of Celtic/Ivernian origin and resident in Havenshire before the arrival of the Breotish/Engellexic Havenites.
 
Joined
Apr 18, 2010
Messages
1,109
Location
The South
People's Army Barracks,
Whyteston, Carnshire


"Your absolutely sure?" frowned the Captain.
"Fraid so. And the Barracks up in High Gate has the same situation." confirmed the Quartermaster.

It was an unseasonably hot day. Though it was not yet fully noon, the sun's rays glared hard off of the concrete and brick structures that made up the People's Army base at Whyteston. The eighty or so men who made up its total compliment had abandoned morning drill, and were sitting around in whatever diminishing shade they could find, sipping water bottles and talking to one another.

Captain Broker watched all this with weary contempt, but in truth the heat afflicted him also, particularly since he was wearing full dress uniform, his shiny peaked cap only further slugging his wits with heat. His head was caked with sweat, and even his normally impeccably waxed moustache drooped. Outside, the countryside was gold and green and brown, flowers blooming early, magnificiently, and worryingly. The people of Whyteston struggled to water their crops, dark rumours of a drought spreading.

For the Captain, though, this was not his problem. What was his problem was that successive Transfer Orders had robbed him of much of his armoury. The last one had taken all but one of his trucks, and he now find it difficult to meet the standard Army practice regimen laid out by coda. He'd been forced to go from three out of barracks drills a week to one, and now to none. Worse, it seemed even in-barracks discpline was slipping, his men wearing just their shirts and slack trousers, and more concerned with fighting off the biting summerflies and keeping hydrated. He'd never seen anything quite like this slip into malaise, yet it was so slow and gradual it seemed only natural.

"How many rifles in total?" He asked the Quartermaster, his suspicions growing.
"About a hundred, maybe, sir. How many are serviceable, its difficult to tell."
"A HUNDRED?!" He almost exploded, calming himself, aware that they were in an open courtyard, and that some of the men might hear.
"Its not that bad, sir. There's eighty of us, so, some to spare?"
"We're supposed to be two full companies, man. Why are we barely full strength at one?"
"You know this, sir. You signed off on Transfer Order 11-"
"I bloody well KNOW theyve been transferred! Its just..." He sighed, scratching the back of his head.
"What is Central Command up to? Don't they know the Carnies might get unruly? With a drought on the way, no less!" he whispered darkly.

The Quartermaster paled. "Are you sure about the drought, sir? I mean, the weather station said-"
"I -know- what the weather station said, Short. Has it been right more than once in a blue moon? Its all garbage and propaganda, even when they might know what the actual bloody weather is." The Captain sat down on the step of his office, taking off his cap and sighing. The Quartermaster felt uncomfortable towering over his superior officer, but he could barely help that. He was almost blinded as it was by his Captain's now-revealed bald head.

My god. Thought Henry Short. The man's plucked like an egg. He shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. Even his regulation boots felt tight and sweaty in this heat. Poor-quality leather, most likely. But everything was poor-quality, these days. Why was that?

"At least tell me the Factory can knock us up some replacement gear."

"Fraid not, sir. Theyre completely overstretched as it is. They're actually requesting more security, since all these fresh faces have been coming in from the fields, and they're worried about sabotage and petty theft."

The Captain sighed. "I really can't in good conscience allow this bleeding to go on. We need to be at strength, fully armed, for the good of the nation."

"With all due respect, sir, but our superiors have ordered-"

"I know, I know." He looked out on the sun-baked courtyard, at the slow-blooming daisies that reached up through the otherwise neatly tended grass of the parade-ground. "Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe its alright. They say on the radio things are different now. Prosperity. Progress. Maybe we've all been tightly wound for so long, we've forgotten how to relax..." He looked quietly, as some of his men started pulling out packed lunches and eating wrapped hand-bread with thin slivers of chutney and sausage meat, made by their wives or mothers or some by their own hands, looking for all the world like overgrown schoolboys, down to the braces, grey socks, and well polished boots.

"Yes. Maybe this is what Peace time looks like. Were you in the millitary before 1927? Of course not, Short, you're only a few years younger than me, and even I was only a boy then." He sighed.

"Nearly thirty years, and now we finally have peace."

==============================
Whyteston Engine Factory,
Carnshire


Overseer Hart rubbed his raw, tired eyes, as he watched another batch of fucked up engine parts roll by him on the conveyor. Aside from the clank of machiney, The factory was mostly quiet, absent of chatter, the hundreds of women and children all watching, wondering what would happen next.

He picked up his loud-hailer, took a deep breath, and gave vent to his increasingly mounting rage, his vocal-chords strained and sore. God fuck it, he was tired. Almost as tired as these lazy cretins should be from working as hard as he wanted them to. It never had ocurred to him what being really, truly, overfuckingworked could feel like. They'd had some rushes before, theyd had pressure and demands and quotas and glorious production fucking drives and all that shit, but always there had been leeway, understanding, backhanders, excuses. So sorry, Comrade, but I dont have the time, or the workers, the machinery is broken, no one to repair it...

But now, like a magnifying glass to an ant, the entire system had its eyes trained firmly on -him-. Oh, true, it was also intensely interested in all the other factory overseers and managers too, but its gaze, its attention, its -demand- was no less intense for its dilution.
Any excuse he made, they incredibly found a counter for. Not enough workers? We'll find more. Here, some Fresh from the fields Carnies, whose only skill is pulling up potatoes. They'll make engines for you. Your machinery is broken? Who is the saboteur, comrade? Punish them and then we will fix your machinery, otherwise it will have to come out of your pay. No time? You have no time for anything else. This is your job now.

He wet his lips, and gave vent to his frustrations, shouting at the dull-eyed, shiftless, ugly as all hell Carnie workers. "These parts are UNACCEEEPTABLE!!!" He shrieked, reaching high notes he didn't know he could. "ALL OF YOU, ONE HUNDRED HOURS UNPAID LABOUR! FUCKING MAKE THIS SHIT AGAIN, AND MAKE IT RIIIGHT!"

There was a universal groan, a low, rumbling murmur that seemed to have no single source, but swept across all of them. They were already working themselves to the bone, half-rations. Many of them had injured themselves, or left children at home, too exhausted to cry. Even the ones who had experience or had had time to really learn what it was they were doing with this machinery, had found the demands for complex millitary equipment like flame-throwers taxing them to their utmost.

Whyteston Factory was an Engine factory. It had just enough machinery, just enough material input, and just enough space to ensure it could make a steady outflow of small, low-quality car and truck engines. At a stretch, they could maybe make prop-engines for planes, but -nobody- wanted that shit anymore. This was the Jet Age, now. Your tools for making fighter engines are obsolete, might aswell melt them or throw them away.

But Whyteston's heyday was long over, assuming it had ever begun. And now, even making engines had become a slower, more apathetic exercise. Hart had been able to keep things ticking over, forging connections, smoothing over bumps. But now, the same system he had exploited to hide the Factory's failings had turned on him, and thrown a big fucking spanner in all of it. It wasn't so much they were asking him to Jump and he was shouting how high, it was that they were pushing him out of an airplane and telling him to grow wings.

"Well? What are you all standing around for? Get back to fucking work!" he shouted, rasping, his face red from exertion. Dear God, was it hot today.

With extreme reluctance, the ugly-as-fuck Carnie women and their brats shuffled back to their stations, their sallow eyes staring blankly, their dull, chewed lips mumbling some doggrel.


The dwindling number of Hart's trustworthy, -true white- Havenite foremen looked at him, concerned. He seemed to be falling apart in front of them, giving in more and more to hoarsening rages, seeming ever more pathetic as he did so. In truth, they were also run ragged trying to keep everything organised, making sure the Carnie bitches didnt fall asleep and fall into the machinery, or let their brats run around everywhere. Time was, you used to have the pick of the bunch, pick out any young female single ones- not that they were attractive, but any hole will do when your bored. But now even they were too tired to really make a go of it, their libidos as withered as their stamina, as aching as their vocal chords from shouting, as callused as their thumbs from having to whack the lazy Carnies every so often with their encouragement rods.

The added burden of an unseasonably hot summer made them more lethargic, and their attention to detail was slipping too. The factory was hot even during winter-time, but now it -baked-. Their once neatly ironed workshirts were now lipid with sweat, and they no longer seemed so intimidating. Sometimes the Carnies would keel over from the exertion. For all that they weren't -really- a white race, at least not by popular opinion, they always had remarkably pale skin which couldnt take the sun. Freckled and red-haired, the devil's marks they used to call them.

The more educated of Havenite commonfolk would consider the Carnish as a racial dead-end, an evolutionary off-shoot withered and useless before its time, a warning of the dangers of too much inbreeding. Either way, few had high opinions of this minority, who stood out as much for their weird, vaguely An Lyric mumblings as for their pallid skin, inbred faces and malnourished limbs.

But, it was Peace time, now, for all that the burdens of a foreign war were exerting them to breaking point. Perhaps, once the kinks had been smoothed out, the yellow-men far away sufficiently armed, things could slide. Things could relax. People were still wound up tight, remembering days of suspicion and terror and the starving cold. At least there was a guarantee of plentiful food.

Sacks of rice had appeared as if from nowhere, and what once had been a weekly chore of trying to get bread or egg now became a different kind of chore, as every day, every meal, a bowl of weak, vaguely meaty stew was served alongside a helping of rice. Not that it helped much, they were worked so hard any difference the improvement in diet might have made was cancelled out.

But still the radio talked of Prosperity delivered at last. Of eateries serving full Havenite breakfasts, of new curry houses, of faster and more plentiful cars, of trains that could take you on a holiday to the seaside. Whoever was enjoying these things wasn't the folk of Whyteston, and it sure as hell wasn't the fucking Carnies.


What the Carnies themselves thought was always a bit of a mystery, not that anyone really cared. But there was one doggrel phrase, they seemed to keep repeating, some meaningless An Lyric-ish gibberish that theyd taken to whispering to each other, which some bold or foolish youth even scrawled on walls for a beating and a night in the cells.

The phrase was Kuntell an Hager-Awel. In their tongue, it translated loosely as "The Gathering of the Storm."

=======================================
 
Joined
Apr 18, 2010
Messages
1,109
Location
The South
Summer, 1953
People's Republic of Havenshire


A Quarterly Report: Concerning the Supply Act and Intervention Act

As requested by the office of the Premier, an exhaustive survey has been conducted of the industrial output of the People's Republic, specifically in how it connects to sustaining the Supply Act's goals and the Intervention Act's presumed goals. The aim of this report is to monitor current and past industrial and millitary supply output, its utility and dissemination in Vangala, and to make projections about the sustainability of these iniatitives.

Since the beginning of Supply in March 1953, over 50,000 metric tonnes of material has been successfully exported from Havenshire to Vangala. A substantial portion of this material has been "requisitioned" from millitary surplus, including ammunition, spare rifles, vehicles, spare vehicle parts, and Emergency supply dumps set up by the Walker Administration in 1943, which includes a substantial amount of tinned food, medical supplies, and other surplus put into reserve in the eventuality of an Invasion.

In addition to this material, the export of which has left nearly 40% of People's Army and People's Air Force formations at or severely under strength, the stocks of vital medical supplies such as strychnine, pencillin and common vaccinations from the Central Health Service have also been "requisitioned" to meet export targets. It is estimated that, contrary to paper figures, as much as 60% of actual pre-war stock has been delivered and disseminated to the People's Republic of Vangala, as opposed to the reported 33%.

Furthermore, the processed industrial material stocks of the nation have also become severely depleted, and targets for this year are rated as being very unlikely to be met. Even if all requisition was halted right this second, it would be difficult for domestic industry to meet even the targets formulated for next year. The bulk of this material has been used to fabricate ammunition and vehicular/weapon parts, which have been reported as being assigned to make up the shortfall to PA and PAF units previously indicated by requisition. In actual fact, CIB informants have gathered substantial anecdotal evidence that the bulk of this material has also been requisitioned.

At present rates of requisition, as much as 65% of millitary supply could be tied up in the People's Republic of Vangala, and a crippling 80% of civillian medical supply by the end of 1953. It is the reccomendation of this report that three factors must be urgently addressed:
1.) Requisition rates to Vangala must be severely scaled back, if not halted entirely for a period, and focus placed instead on training, construction efforts, and logistical support for the People's Republic of Vangala.
2.)Industrial targets must be severely scaled back, if not halted entirely for a period, and focus placed instead on simply returning to pre-war levels of surplus, much less meeting Prospero Plan-set targets for 1954 or even 1955.
3.)Medical supplies must be urgently replenished ahead of the Winter of 1953, as even if Famine is averted(see Supplementary report, Quarterly on National Food stocks concerning Supply Act) there is grave danger of usual winter disease levels being considerably worse, due to malnutrition and lack of available vaccination.

In conclusion, systemic failures in the bureaucratic and organisational structure of the Government, and its relationship with the co-operatives and millitary forces, has seen a widespread exportation of not only almost all millitary and medical surplus, but actually dangerously cut into needed material. Whilst domestic millitary material is arguably unnecessary with no major invasion threat currently posed, an uprising of any scale, a widespread contagion, a famine, and even domestic industrial/commercial output, are all grave risks posed by the continuance of this level of involvement, which could even de-stabilise the current Administration.

We reccomend that the above suggestions be strongly considered, and that additional reports be commissioned to ascertain the veracity of the bulk of existing records, and that the CIB be tasked away from foreign intelligence efforts, and re-tasked to an honest, sincere and critical appraisal of Government bureaucracy at the low and mid-levels.
 
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