Right to Reform

[Thaumantica]

Our Right to Resist,
Free Karpatica,
12 July, 2010​

"We ask only for the obedience of these unruly taxpayers. Look not to the streets for Patriotism, for it is found at the surface our riot shield, and the striking end of our baton." - Iulian Ovidiu, Candidate for Mareşalul a Justiţie (Marshall of Justice)

Startling bursts sent a pair of gas canisters bolting through the polluted atmosphere, with a violent thump and consequential crack, the first canister detonated against a protesters bare chest. Rousing a tempestuous backlash, a horde like mob pressed on at a loping pace, even as the second canister emitted its intended payload of tear gas. While most detached from the mob, a courageous minority continued to muster strength from a deep place within the soul.

Not a radical fringe of modern revolutionaries, their cause was nearly two centuries old, recycled from the 1818-25 Wars of Assertion that staked Životinje's claim to independence. A resistance all too similar of Živo was not only forced to pay, but fight for the Empire of Miedzymorze and its Crimson King. Figureheads were altered, painted different colors in the case of Kościałkowsky (White Emperor of Greater Sarmatia, in rounds of reform, restriction, and taxation on businesses in country, while two questionably popular wars required increased enlistment from the Živo population.

"RESIST. .RESIST!" the vanguard of protesters roared, summarizing their cause to resist Market reform in Životinje, and the momentous redefinition of the 'Union Way'. "RETURN . . RETURN" livid riot police replied, forming a defensive line in preparation for bombardment from these aggressive demonstrators.

At the corner of Livich and Gabil Avenue, the rebellious cabal and firm unit of order clashed in to combat. Protesters snatched away riot shields only to be thrashed fiercely with batons, but a salvo of bricks and debris caused the right flank to halt its forward advance entirely. Hysteria took hold of young folk in Karpatica like a virus, retaliation born from their partiality for a capitalist formula in the Union market. Shockingly, chaos reigned on the Southeast side before high noon, with an enduring day of destructive rallies planned to start their unemployed work week.

"I would not be setting fire to our current establishment unless I was not absolutely certain an immovable foundation of iron was being forged beneath. Our Union may falter, but it always rebuilds." - Henio Ujvári, Candidate for Civilă Mareşalul (Civil Marshal)

Assembling upon NE Livich Avenue was a third faction, well represented by variations of light blue or black and white stripe dressing attire. Their formations equipped robustly with clubs, knives, and pipes; brick carriers conducted to the rear by vociferous ringleaders. These loudspeakers appeared astute and aware of the complexities of the situation in contrast to their foot soldiers, who while well formed - appeared wild and untamed in the eye.

On this sweltering day, the Riot Control and Tax protesters felt the effects of dehydration, but the methodical vigilantes from Northeast Livich were distributing bottles of water with foresight to future fallouts. Improvised Ambulatory services began escorting injured policemen, while not taking away from their own mob as it poised to attack.

"FORWARD . . FORWARD" Captains of the truculent band howled, mounting in to up-armored vans to follow those advancing on foot. Alterations and maneuver orders brought their movements together in perfect unison.

Where the other factions had entrenched on the corners of Livich and Gabil, the intimidating force of 'Progresişti' sounded ear shattering bull horns, followed by a chillingly practiced volley of falling bricks. Periodically a brick might hit a policeman, but tax protesters were recipients of their projectiles more often then not. That, until forward advance parties of footmen ran headlong in to the protesters, plainly indicating where their aggression was aimed.

"FORM UP . . FORM UP" a Police Sergeant ordered, utilizing time bought by the Progresişti arrival. Where the left flank had failed, these late arrivers superseded their presence with unrestricted punches of lawless savagery. Gas canisters rung out once more, sending the dumbfounded resistance in to a scattering retreat. Not one amongst them, strangely enough, was arrested or restrained.

By Mareşal edict, that of Dionis Huszar, incarceration was not an option for members of this resistance. He wanted them disarmed and demobilized, sent home or at least running. To imprison tax resistors for doing as they had threatened, might only strengthen their resolve. Pacifying those violent few, then providing the democratic option as an alternative for their catastrophic discontent. Defenders of the peace would send the resistance running, paramedics and coroners picked up the rest.

 

[Thaumantica]

Railroads at Risk
Preria, Est Periphery
16 July, 2010​

"In my darkest hours, I contemplate the dormant peril of governing over such a heavily armed populace. Bearing Arms, one of our distinct core rights, could just as well be our undoing at any given time" - Roda Posavski, Incumbent Civilă Mareşalul

Like a mechanical colossus, groaning inexorably without an audible rival, the colossal crane of Preria Central Distribution Facility (CDF) hurled ton upon ton of incommensurable cargo in a remarkable 360º. Dismally, the hefty containers were colored a palette of boorishly pallid reds, blues, and greens, blending only perhaps with the overcast skies gloomily inhabiting the scene. Each payload was meticulously codified to an otherwise arbitrary looking assortment of numbers and letters, subtly articulating the unique universe transporting goods had formed around itself. To a well versed observer, the facility might strike them like the inside of a watch does a classic watchmaker, and with the same primitive feeling densely reserved for newcomers to the trade. Humbly, CDF was the manifest heart of Eastern Životinje, and thus: Operation Steadfast Liberty taking place in occupied Barazi, pumping material anywhere in Centrjziema within a few short business days.

Its arteries were the seemingly endless railroads, connecting the Facility vicariously through every periphery of Preria, boundary of Životinje, the Wieser Sarmatska Border, the Baroturk Oltremaren Border, and far in to the Great Oikawan Empire where more goods had always flowed out then in. The Blue nation had cornered several markets by epitomizing the free market state, here, in a regional climate where regulation and centrally planned markets reigned supreme. Entrepreneurs backed the Military backed the Entrepreneurs from eighteen-eighteen until now, when the spirit of progressive economics finally birthed insurrection with unpredictable apparitions of the passion fueled working class. Fascism, Communism, Anarchism, Libertarianism (Quite especially the lethargic type, but armed to the teeth), had all materialized in the form of formidable factions hoping to shape the upcoming decade, "the Triumphant Decade", as Dionis Huszar captioned while announcing victory in Barazi. Triumph at whose expense and to what collective gain? This turned out to be the question every man or woman with a boisterous enough voice wailed about.

Composed and confident, elder militiamen of the 3rd Prerian Citizens Militia wove around sealed cargo-containers unseen by the largely automated network of material shipment, so leisurely they maneuvered past workmen of the Distribution Facility, who were either too preoccupied by their tasks, or rendered deaf and blind to their surroundings by ear and eye protection. Old men were doing in broad daylight what the free world feared terrorists were capable of: moving freely around their precious goods, and doing precisely as they pleased when they pleased with them. Their little operation was not of bloodthirsty intent however, nor were they attempting to poison food supply chains that would go on to feed Soldiers of the Union Army, but under some peoples definition it would be deemed clearly a blatant act of terror.

Quickly they disabled a security guard in mere seconds with plastic zip ties purchased at a department store, they quickly tethered him to an iron pole, and covered his staggered mug with 100-MPH Tape to keep him quiet. Their only weapons were strength in numbers and a clear understanding of what was going on, their rifles were slung across their back avoid a firefight until a legitimate police or military force became involved. The local locksmith, a weekend militiamen to boot, effortlessly picked a doors lock separating their group from the control center. 'Infiltrating' from the ground floor, they climbed two flights of unguarded stairs until reaching another locked door, this one requiring a key-in password.

The locksmith shrugged "This is beyond my scope of practice" he said, speaking like a doctor would about a patient. Meanwhile, another member of the militia approached the door with certainty and swagger, looking back once to nod as if to indicate "I got this", and he did - three knocks on the door and a few seconds later another confounded worker had his teeth punched for trusting an unknown threat on the other side.

"Attention, attention, attention!" the Militiamen called out to Preria Central Distribution Facility. "We are the Musketeer Militia" . . a few coughed over the Musketeer half of their moniker, skeptical still entirely of the entire charade. Anonymous 'benefactors' contacted the Third Militia Brigade only a week before, bestowing a sum of one-million Kredjiza in exchange for this local operation. A quarter of the Militia already worked for the CDF, and in some skewed way the benefactors themselves if not removed by a sea of paperwork.

"Work ends today . . . But don't none of you Proletariat types confuse this as some sort of workers revolt" they chuckled a bit without turning off the intercom "We, the Third Militia . . Uhh, Musketeers . . We are occupying this Facility until our Union sets it self straight! Along the path of Capitalism, mind you!". The most junior of the Militiamen began rounding up the workers, confiscating cell-phones and other devices that might allow them to contact higher authorities. "You'll notice we have commandeered a CDF, there is a lifetime supply of food, drink, and whatever the hell else you'll need."