Faeelin
July 26th, 2004, 12:02 AM
Anupamaa Seshadri looked over the photographs from the drones of the Caucasus, and shook her head.
The Caucasus she’d known had been a pleasant enough place, although a bit backward. Its inhabitants hadn’t largely been damaged by the war, and by the time she’d grown up, they’d finally ceased drilling there. A bit bucolic, compared to her home in Avalon [1], but nice, and largely Federalists.
Here, though… she could swear that she could smell pollution from across the sea, at times. The land was polluted, as if whoever governed the territory didn’t give a shit about the environment of the area.
The photographs of the camps…. Anupamaa had thrown up, after seeing one of the videos. It was like something out of the Dark Ages, or the first years after the Catastrophe [2]. Sick and starving people were forced at gunpoint to work in compounds, or drill for oil.
Just as she was looking over the video of a riot being gunned down, the Governor of Dacia entered. Anupamaa stood up. “First Consul,” she said.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Luke Schlenueser. “I’m not the First Consul,” he said.
“It’s clearly stated in the Confederation’s Charter that in the event of the event of an accident involving the First Consul, his position is passed to the governors of the provinces, who choose a successor. As you are the only governor….” Anupamaa trailed off.
Luke took a cup of Pisa that some one had placed on the table for him, and the rest of his staff sat down as well.
“Well,” he said, “what do we know so far?”
The Minister of Transportation spoke up first. “We’ve had reports of numerous aircraft overhead, some of whom we’ve tried hailing. “
“The response?” asked Luke.
Anupamaa interrupted. “It’s hard to describe, sir. We’ve had responses in what we think are dialects of Greek, German, Russian, and, a few we’re not sure of.”
Luke paused to take another sip of Pisa [3]. “I won’t waste time asking just what the hell happened, so I’ll ask you this. What’s around us?”
Anupamaa activated a screen on the wall. “This,” she gestured, “is a map of the nearby area. We seem to be bordered by a Byzantine Empire to the south,” she smiled briefly as people realized the implications of that, “Russians in various stages of development, an Italian Kingdom, and what we think is some sort of Celtic superstate covering France.”
Luke sighed. “Right. Have we established contact with anyone so far?”
The Minister of Transportation spoke up. “I recommend we hold off on that, for now. We need to know what we’re up against. We may be looking at,” he said slowly, “dozens of states, all possessing nuclear weapons.”
The room fell silent for a moment. “What can we do to defend Dacia?”
Anupamaa, General in the Defense Force of the Confederation, nodded as the screen switched to the next slide. “If we mobilize everyone who’s had training, and we can equip them,” she said, “I’d say about two hundred thousand people total, about four hundred aircraft, unmanned, of course, and a few warships.
Luke noticed her pause. “What’s the bad news?”
Anupamaa flicked to the next slide. “You’ve all seen the photographs of the Caucasus? We initially thought it was some sort of state that never recovered from the Catastrophe, because they fly the Swatiska everywhere.”
The Minister of Education spoke up. “Wait, you’re thinking they’re Hindus?[4]
Anupamaa smiled grimly. “Thank whatever God you want that they’re not. It’s worse,” she said.
She activated a video of a work camp. “This is, we believe, a slave labor colony. They’re speaking a derivative of German, although it’s proving to be a bitch to translate.”
She felt the words form in her mouth. “They call themselves National Socialists, whatever that means. Essentially, they believe that anyone but North Europeans isn’t fit to live. They use the local inhabitants for slave labor. Their entire ideology is based around creating a master race.”
The Minister of Health spoke up again. “So they’re into genetic engineering?”
Anupamaa frowned. She played the next video, of a camp they’d seen near Baku. Thousands of people were being gassed and shot for no reason that she could understand.
“They’re into genocide. “
[1] A rough name for the North American continent, going back to its discovery by Roger Baccen in the 13th century.
[2] General term for a nuclear war that started in 1898. One Billion people died.
[3] For those who haven’t been reading Prince of Peace, Coffee is known as Pisa, due to it being the first European city to drink it.
[4] The swastika is very important to the followers of Vipashyana, a syncretic faith combining Hinduism, Christianity and Buddhism in the 13th century that took over India.
The Caucasus she’d known had been a pleasant enough place, although a bit backward. Its inhabitants hadn’t largely been damaged by the war, and by the time she’d grown up, they’d finally ceased drilling there. A bit bucolic, compared to her home in Avalon [1], but nice, and largely Federalists.
Here, though… she could swear that she could smell pollution from across the sea, at times. The land was polluted, as if whoever governed the territory didn’t give a shit about the environment of the area.
The photographs of the camps…. Anupamaa had thrown up, after seeing one of the videos. It was like something out of the Dark Ages, or the first years after the Catastrophe [2]. Sick and starving people were forced at gunpoint to work in compounds, or drill for oil.
Just as she was looking over the video of a riot being gunned down, the Governor of Dacia entered. Anupamaa stood up. “First Consul,” she said.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Luke Schlenueser. “I’m not the First Consul,” he said.
“It’s clearly stated in the Confederation’s Charter that in the event of the event of an accident involving the First Consul, his position is passed to the governors of the provinces, who choose a successor. As you are the only governor….” Anupamaa trailed off.
Luke took a cup of Pisa that some one had placed on the table for him, and the rest of his staff sat down as well.
“Well,” he said, “what do we know so far?”
The Minister of Transportation spoke up first. “We’ve had reports of numerous aircraft overhead, some of whom we’ve tried hailing. “
“The response?” asked Luke.
Anupamaa interrupted. “It’s hard to describe, sir. We’ve had responses in what we think are dialects of Greek, German, Russian, and, a few we’re not sure of.”
Luke paused to take another sip of Pisa [3]. “I won’t waste time asking just what the hell happened, so I’ll ask you this. What’s around us?”
Anupamaa activated a screen on the wall. “This,” she gestured, “is a map of the nearby area. We seem to be bordered by a Byzantine Empire to the south,” she smiled briefly as people realized the implications of that, “Russians in various stages of development, an Italian Kingdom, and what we think is some sort of Celtic superstate covering France.”
Luke sighed. “Right. Have we established contact with anyone so far?”
The Minister of Transportation spoke up. “I recommend we hold off on that, for now. We need to know what we’re up against. We may be looking at,” he said slowly, “dozens of states, all possessing nuclear weapons.”
The room fell silent for a moment. “What can we do to defend Dacia?”
Anupamaa, General in the Defense Force of the Confederation, nodded as the screen switched to the next slide. “If we mobilize everyone who’s had training, and we can equip them,” she said, “I’d say about two hundred thousand people total, about four hundred aircraft, unmanned, of course, and a few warships.
Luke noticed her pause. “What’s the bad news?”
Anupamaa flicked to the next slide. “You’ve all seen the photographs of the Caucasus? We initially thought it was some sort of state that never recovered from the Catastrophe, because they fly the Swatiska everywhere.”
The Minister of Education spoke up. “Wait, you’re thinking they’re Hindus?[4]
Anupamaa smiled grimly. “Thank whatever God you want that they’re not. It’s worse,” she said.
She activated a video of a work camp. “This is, we believe, a slave labor colony. They’re speaking a derivative of German, although it’s proving to be a bitch to translate.”
She felt the words form in her mouth. “They call themselves National Socialists, whatever that means. Essentially, they believe that anyone but North Europeans isn’t fit to live. They use the local inhabitants for slave labor. Their entire ideology is based around creating a master race.”
The Minister of Health spoke up again. “So they’re into genetic engineering?”
Anupamaa frowned. She played the next video, of a camp they’d seen near Baku. Thousands of people were being gassed and shot for no reason that she could understand.
“They’re into genocide. “
[1] A rough name for the North American continent, going back to its discovery by Roger Baccen in the 13th century.
[2] General term for a nuclear war that started in 1898. One Billion people died.
[3] For those who haven’t been reading Prince of Peace, Coffee is known as Pisa, due to it being the first European city to drink it.
[4] The swastika is very important to the followers of Vipashyana, a syncretic faith combining Hinduism, Christianity and Buddhism in the 13th century that took over India.