Eternity RPC Board
03-25-2017, 07:50 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-25-2017, 07:51 PM by Jamzor the Jaxxor.)
Dein 1522
“This is sedition!” a man shouted.
“It is truth, but you are too afraid to hear it!” another responded.
“We should wait for more information, comrades! We cannot trust first reports!” a third pleaded.
“I’ve heard enough,” the first said. “You won’t be sitting so pretty when your words get back to the MGB.”
“The MGB is done! The Union is done!” the second retorted. “The whole rotten structure is collapsing in on itself. We must escape while we still can.”
“My friend, you speak in haste. These are only rebels–guerrillas, bandits!” the third said. “How can they defeat the behemoth that is the Socialist Union? How can we hope to survive against it?”
“Indeed!” the first interjected. “They are mere bandits and traitors, and when the Red Army marches back into Kubaniza and Calgarov and Balochia, they will all die traitors’ deaths!”
“The People’s Red Army is shattered,” the second said, speaking the name with obvious disgust. “Saratov is under attack, and Severyane itself is threatened. Now is the time to free ourselves from the bonds of tyranny!”
The Supreme Council was in disarray. A small group of councilors had come forward and demanded that Mazaghea secede from the Union, which was met by outrage from the most staunch Communists and less enthusiastic admonition from the more moderate councilors. The pro-secession councilors were emboldened by the recent string of defeats of the Red Army by rebel forces in Kubaniza, Calgarov, and Balochia. The Union military was in complete disarray, being forced to retreat almost entirely from the rebellious regions. In the middle of all this, a man dressed in military-looking fatigues with a holster on his hip stepped into the council chamber. He was followed by Police Commander Berasby Manshak (the former police commander had been killed several weeks earlier. His murder had been ruled a robbery-gone-wrong.) and two policemen.
“Councilors! I have wondrous news!” he declared loudly. The chamber quieted at the strange interruption. The man’s uniform did not look like a regular military uniform. “The reports have been confirmed. The People’s Red Army has been completely routed from most the rebel republics. Now, it is Mazaghea’s turn to shake off the shackles of Severyan Communism and declare her independence!”
“Who is this fool?” the third man said, the one who was trying to reconcile his fellow councilors. “Why was he allowed into the Supreme Council’s chamber during deliberations? Commander, throw him out immediately!”
“I am afraid that it is not your place to give me orders, sir,” Berasby replied. “The Supreme Council has been dissolved.”
There was an uproar. Red-faced councilors screamed at the police commander and the man dressed in fatigues unholstered his pistol and fired a few rounds into the ceiling, quieting everyone. “My name is Hatal Sovinov, and I am the commander of the Mazaghe National Front. Right now, my men have completely occupied this building and the city itself. We have the support of the police. Now you must break up this assembly, or I will begin having people shot.”
With that, the first councillor from before stepped forward. “It saddens me that this is necessary, but this Council has become nothing but a farce. You,” he said to Hatal, “have my support. The reign of the Union of Socialist Republics has come to an end. Long live Mazaghea!” A couple of his pro-secession comrades took up the call. “Long live Mazaghea!”
Against one the far wall hung a large USR banner. Hatal marched over and pulled it down, letting it fall against the floor. He then dragged it outside the Council chamber, kicking the doors so they flew open. Outside there was a throng of rebel fighters, dressed with various combinations of fatigues and civilian clothing and armed with a large variety of hunting rifles, submachine guns, pistols, assault rifles, and shotguns. He held up the USR flag so that the entire crowd could see it. “The Union is dead, long live Mazaghea!” he shouted.
The fighters took up the cry. “Long live Mazaghea! Long live Mazaghea!”
“This is sedition!” a man shouted.
“It is truth, but you are too afraid to hear it!” another responded.
“We should wait for more information, comrades! We cannot trust first reports!” a third pleaded.
“I’ve heard enough,” the first said. “You won’t be sitting so pretty when your words get back to the MGB.”
“The MGB is done! The Union is done!” the second retorted. “The whole rotten structure is collapsing in on itself. We must escape while we still can.”
“My friend, you speak in haste. These are only rebels–guerrillas, bandits!” the third said. “How can they defeat the behemoth that is the Socialist Union? How can we hope to survive against it?”
“Indeed!” the first interjected. “They are mere bandits and traitors, and when the Red Army marches back into Kubaniza and Calgarov and Balochia, they will all die traitors’ deaths!”
“The People’s Red Army is shattered,” the second said, speaking the name with obvious disgust. “Saratov is under attack, and Severyane itself is threatened. Now is the time to free ourselves from the bonds of tyranny!”
The Supreme Council was in disarray. A small group of councilors had come forward and demanded that Mazaghea secede from the Union, which was met by outrage from the most staunch Communists and less enthusiastic admonition from the more moderate councilors. The pro-secession councilors were emboldened by the recent string of defeats of the Red Army by rebel forces in Kubaniza, Calgarov, and Balochia. The Union military was in complete disarray, being forced to retreat almost entirely from the rebellious regions. In the middle of all this, a man dressed in military-looking fatigues with a holster on his hip stepped into the council chamber. He was followed by Police Commander Berasby Manshak (the former police commander had been killed several weeks earlier. His murder had been ruled a robbery-gone-wrong.) and two policemen.
“Councilors! I have wondrous news!” he declared loudly. The chamber quieted at the strange interruption. The man’s uniform did not look like a regular military uniform. “The reports have been confirmed. The People’s Red Army has been completely routed from most the rebel republics. Now, it is Mazaghea’s turn to shake off the shackles of Severyan Communism and declare her independence!”
“Who is this fool?” the third man said, the one who was trying to reconcile his fellow councilors. “Why was he allowed into the Supreme Council’s chamber during deliberations? Commander, throw him out immediately!”
“I am afraid that it is not your place to give me orders, sir,” Berasby replied. “The Supreme Council has been dissolved.”
There was an uproar. Red-faced councilors screamed at the police commander and the man dressed in fatigues unholstered his pistol and fired a few rounds into the ceiling, quieting everyone. “My name is Hatal Sovinov, and I am the commander of the Mazaghe National Front. Right now, my men have completely occupied this building and the city itself. We have the support of the police. Now you must break up this assembly, or I will begin having people shot.”
With that, the first councillor from before stepped forward. “It saddens me that this is necessary, but this Council has become nothing but a farce. You,” he said to Hatal, “have my support. The reign of the Union of Socialist Republics has come to an end. Long live Mazaghea!” A couple of his pro-secession comrades took up the call. “Long live Mazaghea!”
Against one the far wall hung a large USR banner. Hatal marched over and pulled it down, letting it fall against the floor. He then dragged it outside the Council chamber, kicking the doors so they flew open. Outside there was a throng of rebel fighters, dressed with various combinations of fatigues and civilian clothing and armed with a large variety of hunting rifles, submachine guns, pistols, assault rifles, and shotguns. He held up the USR flag so that the entire crowd could see it. “The Union is dead, long live Mazaghea!” he shouted.
The fighters took up the cry. “Long live Mazaghea! Long live Mazaghea!”