el centro no puede mantener

[Gran-Occidentia]

Captain Carlos Montana had come to hate the jungle with a fierce passion, his fair complexion burnt easily in the sun and the countless insects seemed to find him a rare delicacy compared to his Metizo and Indigenous soldiers. Tall and skinny with thick glasses it was only his father's connections that had secured Carlos a place in the military, however it seemed that his father's influence had failed to get him posted anywhere near civilization. Although Carlos thought maybe that was the old bastard's plan to finally make a man of him.

He had been tasked with hunting down the Integralists who were supposedly infesting the jungles and mountains of Ixhuatán, however in close to six months he had yet to encounter so much as a trace of the fanatics. "Chasing ghosts.." he muttered staring out into the jungle, it was a calm night and from his position in the old fort's tower he could see for miles around "not that there's much to see" just jungle stretching out almost forever, only the great Occidental mountain range breaking up the monotony.

Hours later Carlos awoke from a fitful slumber, he never slept well" too fucking humid". Carlos half imagined he could hear something out in the jungle, only every so often when the wind shifted...it sounded or maybe he thought it sounded he couldn't be sure but it sounded like a hymn, though he couldn't place it the song played on his mind, but eventually sleep overtook him once more.


It was closer now, the hymn...and he was certain it was a hymn now, out there in the jungle somewhere there was singing" and the only one's out there would be" it was then that it hit him... " Onward christian soldiers marching as to war". He looked out at the old fort, crumbling walls overgrown with creeping vines and only fifty men to hold it,

He could see them now, marching out of the jungle rank upon rank, banners unfurled, ragged but with heads held high and with voices clear" On then, Christian soldiers, on to victory".

Carlos ran out into the courtyard, where his men where waiting" To arms men! For the Re...". Hot lead scythed through his thin frame and cut his words short. As he lay dying he watched as his men tore off their insignia's, opened the gate and joined their comrades as they marched through
" Brothers lift your voices, loud your anthems raise".

 

[Gran-Occidentia]

Presidential palace, Rio Bravo


Victoriano Grau couldn't remember the last time he had had a decent night's sleep. His already haggard features had grown almost gaunt and his hair had gone grey with the stress of high office. When he had first become President he had been such a idealist, he had had such hopes for the future. Now it seemed all he could do was watch while the country he loved tore itself apart, revolutionaries in the slums, Integralist's in the jungles, and the military circling like a pack of rabid dogs just waiting for a sign of weakness. Worse still where the corporations, who's influence seemed to grow with every passing day, spreading corruption and vice throughout the country.

Something had to be done. The country had to be saved before it fell apart in an orgy of violence, but he could not take the actions needed to save Gran-Occidentia and remain inside the law. But he couldn't do it alone, he needed allies, but trustworthy men were rare in Gran-Occidentia at least trustworthy men with power anyway.

Victoriano knew at least some of the military would be with him, more if he could get the funds to buy their support. Luckily oil had been discovered.Selling that and the Celestún-Rio Bravo line off might be unpalatable but it would provide the necessary funds quickly. Besides once he was in power he could always simply nationalize the lot, yes it was all coming together now.

He would save the country, no matter the cost.

 

[Gran-Occidentia]

Somewhere in the Ixhuatán.

Colonel Augusto Ramirez-Ortega dabbed at the sweat on his face with a cloth it was barely midday but already his uniform was drenched with sweat, days of hiking through the humid jungles of Ixhuatán had taken a toll on him and his men. For the better part of a week the new anti-bandit taskforce had drudged through the provinces jungle highlands in search of the Integralists who continued to run rampant across the region.

" Nearly six days and no sign of the bastards," Augusto said to himself. Here he was the man of the hour, hero of the Republic, sweating his balls off in some jungle hunting ghosts with the aid of the local provincano's who were only barely better then no help at all. through his field glasses he watched the column snake its way along what passed for a road, the government soldiers marching in neat ranks, their uniforms smart despite the heat of the jungle, next to them the Guardia Provincials, small swarthy men of native stock, nearly all were barefoot clad in mishmash of military uniforms and civilian clothes. The locals in contrast to his men seemed unperturbed by the heat and humidity, while the government troops men from the coastal cities laboured with every step these locals walked as if they were simply taking a stroll in the great outdoors.

A glint of gold caught his eye, a bare-chested Provincial with a gold crucifix marching with rifle slung over his shoulder. Maybe the reason why the anti-bandit force hadn't found the Integralists in the jungle was because they were marching alongside them...

 

[Gran-Occidentia]

Army High Command, Rio Bravo

The seat of Army High Command was an old colonial fort, it's low squat bulk sat on a hill overlooking the city of Rio Bravo. Inside the fort was chaos, officers and orderlies running to and through carrying the latest reports. A few days ago all contact had been lost with the government forces in Ixhuatán, throwing the Army and the national government into a state of panic.

" Christ, how did we lose five hundred men! The Integralists are meant to be a bunch of fucking fanatics and peasants!" Juan Carlos Garcia slammed his fist on the table bearing the map of the province of Ixhuatán. That damned province was costing far more than it was worth. But if he gave in to the bastards he and his men would look weak, and that would never stand. " Send in Martinez's and Alvarez's brigades immediately, raze the whole province if you have to".


+++++++


Independence Square ,Progreso, the Province of Las Colinas


" Brothers and Sisters, the time has come to overthrow the corrupt kleptocracts in Rio Bravo, already see how the reactionary military clique is failing to put down the Integralists in the jungle. Grau and his Army puppet-masters cannot hope to stand in the way of the Occidentian proletariat...." This particular agitator would never finish his speech, the Guardia Federal swarmed the square laying to the crowd of onlookers with clubs and rifle butts. However the crowds refused to be cowed by the show of force and responded in kind, soon running battles with the Guardia where happening all across the city.

However it seemed that the people had more will to fight than the Guardia, many of whom threw down their uniforms and joined with the mob. By the evening much of the city was in the hands of the people, of course what they would do with it none could say not even themselves.

 

[Gran-Occidentia]

San Miguel Military Barracks, Rio Bravo.

" All I'm saying is I don't know why we're fighting the Integralist's, I mean they want the same things we do, a strong nation free of the fucking reds and foreigners". The group of young officers were sat round a wooden table in their dormitory strewn with playing cards and bottles, at this stage of the night talk had turned to politics. So far the assembled young men had been careful to not say anything too critical of the government but alcohol had loosened the tongues of the men present " Look they just want to clean the country up, get rid of the dead weight and give us our country back, we should be fighting together".

"Jose you better shut your damn mouth before it gets shut, that's traitorous talk".

Javier you're just saying that because your uncle's a minister, just another fat cat selling out our country". At that Jose lunged at his comrade tipping over the table and sending the room into a chaotic melee as everyone in the room took the chance to address past grievances.


Miles away in the Gran-Occidentian military high command a similar discussion was occurring.

Three men had met in a shadowy backroom of the old fort, the meeting was taking place with the utmost secrecy. Each man held the other in suspicion, any of them could be working for anyone, Grau, the Integralists even the Auténtico's. General Juan Carlos Garcia was the nominally in charge, he was the highest ranking man there, the other men were Major generals Enrique Gomez, Maximiliano Cortez . The assembled men shuffled anxiously none of them willingly to speak first, to voice their thoughts aloud in front of witness's.

General Juan Carlos was the first to break the silence, a broad man in his fifties, Carlos's uniform was immaculate, every button and medal gleaming in the dim lamplight." Look gentlemen lets face facts, the Integralists and us want the same thing, and we are risking tearing the country apart when we should be focusing on the reds. I propose we offer a truce to the Integralists, combine our forces and wipe out the reds and the liberals poisoning our country. Hell Gran-Occidentia will always need an army, let them run the country as long as they leave us alone who cares?"


"Oh and what makes you think you can trust the Integralists to honour a deal, remember we're all part of the morally corrupt government they've vowed to overthrow?" Maximiliano Cortez challenged the General, he always did. where Carlos was tall and fair the very image of the Blanco elite, Cortez was a small, swarthy man, his native heritage evident to all that saw him. His Akatek blood had prevented him from advancing any further in the Blanco dominated ranks of the military.


"Well what else do you suggest? fighting for Grau? all that sniveling weasel does is sit in his office banging away at his type writer. I don't think we need the Integralists, we can crush them, Grau and the reds". Enrique Gomez had a bloody reputation the belied his youthful looks, his exploits during the revolution were the stuff of rumour and even seasoned soldiers were scared of him and were right to.

Juan Carlos spoke again slamming his hand down on the table to make himself heard " Look none of us has to like the Integralists or even trust them, all that we have to do is harness them, they may be a pack of rabid dogs but they can be our dogs....and if later if we so wish, they can always go the way of all mad dogs". So gentlemen are we in agreement?"