KitFisto1997
Banned
The Reds happen... Cue alternate Vietnam War that eventually leaves Siam the last Red state in ITTL 2015.
Revolution! Or, A Victorian Cold War
- Thread starter KitFisto1997
- Start date
-
- Tags
- communism germany revolution
The Reds happen... Cue alternate Vietnam War that eventually leaves Siam the last Red state in ITTL 2015.
KitFisto1997
Banned
I didn't realise that I haven't provided an apt enough description for out antagonist... So here it is~
-Basic Information-
Full Name: Heidrich -UNKNOWN- Kohler
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
DOB: ?/?/ 1984/1985/1986
Birthplace: -UNKNOWN-
Languages Known: German (Imperial Standard), English, French, Portuguese + others
Current Age: 33/32/31 (Only rough estimates)
-Physical Profile-
Height: Approx. 187 cm
Weight: -UNKNOWN-
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Light blue
-Other Information-
Weapons: Sturmgewehr-89 Assault Weapon and P92 Mauser
Clothing: Red German-era leather overcoat with Kevlar vest underneath. Military-grade slacks replete with combat boots of some sort.
Hairstyle: Pompadour-esque haircut with long back and shaved sides. Also has a slight stubble.
Psychological Issues: Superiority complex, usually sees non-Communalists as lower than himself.
Personality: Known for being brutally violent but also very manipulative in a Faustian or Machiavellian way. Has a penchant for being overly dramatic and tends to erupt into cryptic soliloquies.
-Basic Information-
Full Name: Heidrich -UNKNOWN- Kohler
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
DOB: ?/?/ 1984/1985/1986
Birthplace: -UNKNOWN-
Languages Known: German (Imperial Standard), English, French, Portuguese + others
Current Age: 33/32/31 (Only rough estimates)
-Physical Profile-
Height: Approx. 187 cm
Weight: -UNKNOWN-
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Light blue
-Other Information-
Weapons: Sturmgewehr-89 Assault Weapon and P92 Mauser
Clothing: Red German-era leather overcoat with Kevlar vest underneath. Military-grade slacks replete with combat boots of some sort.
Hairstyle: Pompadour-esque haircut with long back and shaved sides. Also has a slight stubble.
Psychological Issues: Superiority complex, usually sees non-Communalists as lower than himself.
Personality: Known for being brutally violent but also very manipulative in a Faustian or Machiavellian way. Has a penchant for being overly dramatic and tends to erupt into cryptic soliloquies.
London Arc: Chapter 4
KitFisto1997
Banned
“Would you mind getting us some tea?”
--------0-------
“Er wird dich anschau'n und du weißt warum... Die Lebenslust bringt di um... Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?”
Århus, Kingdom of Denmark [83-DD-APH]. November 2016…
“Yes, darling… I’m sure I’ll be home for dinner… You can blame Heinrich for this, but don’t be surprised if Gilbert takes me out for drinks over the border in ‘Nord later tonight… Yes… I won’t flirt with anyone. Yes, I mean anyone. Alright, I’ll see you later liebechen. Ich liebe dich~”
Marcus let out a sigh as he put the payphone back on the hook, whatever his girlfriend had wanted him to do was most likely going to be put on hold due to more pressing matters at the Danish embassy. The skeleton crew that was the Prussian Foreign Ministry only handled either the reconstituted League of Nations or whatever sovereign states that still operated in their corner of Europe. Going from the exiled Portuguese in the Azores to the Celtic government in Dublin, and as a far afield as the Greeks in New Athens was as far as many of the diplomats went. But Marcus was always being shunted off to his mainstay at the LoN, only being called home to deal with staff shortages in any of the limited embassies that were either recently built or were left over from before the bombs fell. Or the third option was always the more interesting, the WCRB and their penchant for sending him to areas that required neutral diplomatic assistance – which always resulted in somebody being shot at.
“Then there’s the Agency…” the Prussian sighed as he exited the booth after grabbing the Nordic Krone that he’d received as change, he had to remember to get most of his currency exchanged before he hopped the border on yet another Zeppelin flight. He then noticed his overweight superior, one Heinrich Schneider, formerly of the infamous Stasi who apparently repented during the overthrowing of the East German government way back when. The man had his usual steely expression whenever he laid eyes on his much younger, more successful protégé. He didn’t mind when he made Marcus take his place at the General Assembly, the boy needed the experience after all.
“Are you finished talking to your fiancé yet, Herr Wright?” the man smirked as he put a hand on Marcus’s back as he led him towards the embassy, being flanked by two well-built men in ceremonial garb. The pair were then led into the City Hall for their meeting with the Danish government, presumably about travel arrangements for the upcoming royal tour from his end – after all, His Majesty needed a proper plan if he were to continuously appease the Danes after the so-called Prussian Adventure of 2006.
“Yes, I am…” Marcus sighed in response to his superior. “Jahwol, Herr Reichsleiter would’ve been more fitting…” he then mentally noted with a smirk. The doors to the hall were then opened as Marcus laid eyes on who was heading the meeting from the Danish end of things, none other than the heir to the throne, one Crown Prince Frederick of the House of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, albeit without his Australian wife in tow this time – then again, the media wasn’t here.
“Kronprins!” Marcus spoke in his best Danish before pulling off a near-perfect salute, to which the heir did in return before they shook hands.
“Vizegraf…”
-------0-------
Clarence House, City of Westminster, London. December 2015.
“Are you sure about holding this meeting here?” Marcus asked his driver as the small convoy of expensive cars took him and a few bodyguards from Buckingham to the residence of one Prince Charles Windsor. “Why not some secure bunker out in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales?”
“I assure you, My Lord, our security is top notch. If someone shows up, we’ll be sure to send them packing!” the driver said with a possible hint of arrogance as the car parked across the road. Two footmen opened the doors for the pair as Marcus was escorted inside the compound, men and women of all stripes were lining the halls as they were either on guard duty or were being given tours of the building before the meetings between the Agency’s designated operatives and the higher-ups of the British Royalty, military and government.
“I do hope that His Lordship finds this meeting to his tastes… Your associates, His Majesty and the Princess of Wales are in the room to the right…”
“Thank you, sir.” Marcus replied as he strode into the room, adjusting his cravat as he opened the door to face a man that he’d met once before. A man that was stripped of his opportunity to rule by a damned nuclear war, leaving his siblings to pick up the pieces on opposite ends of the world. He knew him as a man that was content to rule the people that had adored him since his ascension to the title of Prince of Wales.
The Prussian managed to gather his wits at the last minute before saluting the man, then conjuring his best Welsh, mostly held together with his native Cornish tongue…
“Iechyd da i chi, Eich Uchelder Brenhinol…”
--------0-------
“Er wird dich anschau'n und du weißt warum... Die Lebenslust bringt di um... Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?”
Århus, Kingdom of Denmark [83-DD-APH]. November 2016…
“Yes, darling… I’m sure I’ll be home for dinner… You can blame Heinrich for this, but don’t be surprised if Gilbert takes me out for drinks over the border in ‘Nord later tonight… Yes… I won’t flirt with anyone. Yes, I mean anyone. Alright, I’ll see you later liebechen. Ich liebe dich~”
Marcus let out a sigh as he put the payphone back on the hook, whatever his girlfriend had wanted him to do was most likely going to be put on hold due to more pressing matters at the Danish embassy. The skeleton crew that was the Prussian Foreign Ministry only handled either the reconstituted League of Nations or whatever sovereign states that still operated in their corner of Europe. Going from the exiled Portuguese in the Azores to the Celtic government in Dublin, and as a far afield as the Greeks in New Athens was as far as many of the diplomats went. But Marcus was always being shunted off to his mainstay at the LoN, only being called home to deal with staff shortages in any of the limited embassies that were either recently built or were left over from before the bombs fell. Or the third option was always the more interesting, the WCRB and their penchant for sending him to areas that required neutral diplomatic assistance – which always resulted in somebody being shot at.
“Then there’s the Agency…” the Prussian sighed as he exited the booth after grabbing the Nordic Krone that he’d received as change, he had to remember to get most of his currency exchanged before he hopped the border on yet another Zeppelin flight. He then noticed his overweight superior, one Heinrich Schneider, formerly of the infamous Stasi who apparently repented during the overthrowing of the East German government way back when. The man had his usual steely expression whenever he laid eyes on his much younger, more successful protégé. He didn’t mind when he made Marcus take his place at the General Assembly, the boy needed the experience after all.
“Are you finished talking to your fiancé yet, Herr Wright?” the man smirked as he put a hand on Marcus’s back as he led him towards the embassy, being flanked by two well-built men in ceremonial garb. The pair were then led into the City Hall for their meeting with the Danish government, presumably about travel arrangements for the upcoming royal tour from his end – after all, His Majesty needed a proper plan if he were to continuously appease the Danes after the so-called Prussian Adventure of 2006.
“Yes, I am…” Marcus sighed in response to his superior. “Jahwol, Herr Reichsleiter would’ve been more fitting…” he then mentally noted with a smirk. The doors to the hall were then opened as Marcus laid eyes on who was heading the meeting from the Danish end of things, none other than the heir to the throne, one Crown Prince Frederick of the House of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, albeit without his Australian wife in tow this time – then again, the media wasn’t here.
“Kronprins!” Marcus spoke in his best Danish before pulling off a near-perfect salute, to which the heir did in return before they shook hands.
“Vizegraf…”
-------0-------
Clarence House, City of Westminster, London. December 2015.
“Are you sure about holding this meeting here?” Marcus asked his driver as the small convoy of expensive cars took him and a few bodyguards from Buckingham to the residence of one Prince Charles Windsor. “Why not some secure bunker out in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales?”
“I assure you, My Lord, our security is top notch. If someone shows up, we’ll be sure to send them packing!” the driver said with a possible hint of arrogance as the car parked across the road. Two footmen opened the doors for the pair as Marcus was escorted inside the compound, men and women of all stripes were lining the halls as they were either on guard duty or were being given tours of the building before the meetings between the Agency’s designated operatives and the higher-ups of the British Royalty, military and government.
“I do hope that His Lordship finds this meeting to his tastes… Your associates, His Majesty and the Princess of Wales are in the room to the right…”
“Thank you, sir.” Marcus replied as he strode into the room, adjusting his cravat as he opened the door to face a man that he’d met once before. A man that was stripped of his opportunity to rule by a damned nuclear war, leaving his siblings to pick up the pieces on opposite ends of the world. He knew him as a man that was content to rule the people that had adored him since his ascension to the title of Prince of Wales.
The Prussian managed to gather his wits at the last minute before saluting the man, then conjuring his best Welsh, mostly held together with his native Cornish tongue…
“Iechyd da i chi, Eich Uchelder Brenhinol…”
KitFisto1997
Banned
Just realised that what I've written in my TL has started to come true (kinda) IOTL... Kinda using my lack of inspiration to waffle on for a bit, might provoke an interesting discussion while I plan out the 1960's (or a ban from the mods for being edgy and voicing my lack of surprise that things may have turned out for the worse). Mind you, many of these comparisons are merely coincidental.
Things that are (for the most part) dead on:
Aaaaand I'm out of ideas...
Things that are (for the most part) dead on:
- The far-left resorting to violence in lieu of legitimate debate.
- OTL: AntiFa, the (former) Red Army Faction/PLFP/Red Japanese Army and other organisations.
- ITTL: Red Army Faction (think any OTL Islamist terrorist organisation but with Trotskyism and a more global reach)
- Political polarisation between the left/right and other fringe groups.
- OTL: The Culture Wars between Liberalism and Conservatism
- ITTL: Continuing suspicion of Socialist/neo-Communalist parties around the world.
- Major political scandals that result in the rise of a third party or populist leader.
- OTL: US politics for the last 40/50 years... Current resurgence of nationalist policies in Europe.
- ITTL: Watergate 2 and the mainstream-ing of the US Libertarian party after protest voting in late 2015.
- The Middle East... enough said
- OTL: ISIS... again, enough said...
- ITTL: Basically the Iran-Iraq rivalry but with the Israelis and the Iranians fighting against an OTL Iran-style *Saudi* government. Nukes for everyone!
Aaaaand I'm out of ideas...
The Assassination of King Edward VIII and the New Fronteir
KitFisto1997
Banned
The assassination of King Edward VIII has been labelled as one of the most famous in history. The circumstances surrounding the death of the monarch have been called into question by many, creating conspiracy theories that have managed to stand the test of time. From it being ordered by the Communalist Puerto Rican government in response to the Mexican Empire joining the ATO (the deal being orchestrated between Mexican President Fidel Castro and then-UK PM Harold Wilson), to a rogue German Prince that murdered him mere weeks before his marriage to Maria Alix of Saxony-in-exile after the debacle that was the Wallis Simpson affair, (a controversy that lead to the King breaking off his relationship with the twice-divorced American socialite in 1936) the individual or individuals who murdered His Majesty have not been uncovered, even 50 years later…
The day of the assassination was seemingly any normal day for the monarch. King Edward VIII was preparing for another royal tour around the Mediterranean alongside his brother (the future King Albert I) and niece (then-Princess Elizabeth, now Queen Elizabeth II). The royal convoy had set out from St. James’s Palace at approximately 8.30 pm on the 7th of June 1964 to Heathrow Airport where a plane was to fly the family to Gibraltar – their first port of call for the tour. The King and his bodyguards were only over Westminster Bridge when a bullet went straight through the front windshield of the car, fatally injuring the driver, sending the car careening into the right-hand lane – only to then impact a guard rail, which stopped the car dead in its tracks.
King Edward VIII then emerged from the wreckage alongside one of his bodyguards. His injuries surmounted to what had seemingly be a broken collarbone, fractured left forearm and a concussion that he sustained from impacting the headrest. His Majesty then subsequently collapsed from the shock and was rushed to St Mary's Hospital where he was pronounced dead on arrival from massive amounts of internal bleeding alongside his aforementioned injuries.
Edward VIII, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland, and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India (1894-1964, aged 70 years)
The shock of the assassination was shown throughout the British Empire and the world at large. Then-US President John F. Kennedy sent his condolences, as all governments throughout the Free World did. The Communalist powers were quick to deny any involvement, fuelling conspiracy theories of Red involvement while Wilhelm Peick’s government vehemently denied any such involvement. This even reached the point where the leader attended the monarch’s funeral as the Détente of Anglo-German relations began to warm up slightly upon the dictator’s death in 1965. The rise of one Willy Brandt (read, Brezhnev) within the People’s Party lead to a shaky peace that was occasionally punctuated by war in the Orient, South America or the African continent. No major military posturing took place throughout the 1960’s as social changes, new leaders and technological advancements came and went.
All the while, mankind looked to the heavens as the new frontier of space was opened up…
King Albert I by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland, and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India (1895-1982, aged 85)
“We shall land on the Moon not only because we chose to. We will also do it for King, Parliament and Empire!” – Prime Minister Paul McCartney (1920-1989).
An excerpt from: “The Sixties: A BBC Documentary Special”
Originally broadcasted on the 4th of September 2013 on BBC 1.
The day of the assassination was seemingly any normal day for the monarch. King Edward VIII was preparing for another royal tour around the Mediterranean alongside his brother (the future King Albert I) and niece (then-Princess Elizabeth, now Queen Elizabeth II). The royal convoy had set out from St. James’s Palace at approximately 8.30 pm on the 7th of June 1964 to Heathrow Airport where a plane was to fly the family to Gibraltar – their first port of call for the tour. The King and his bodyguards were only over Westminster Bridge when a bullet went straight through the front windshield of the car, fatally injuring the driver, sending the car careening into the right-hand lane – only to then impact a guard rail, which stopped the car dead in its tracks.
King Edward VIII then emerged from the wreckage alongside one of his bodyguards. His injuries surmounted to what had seemingly be a broken collarbone, fractured left forearm and a concussion that he sustained from impacting the headrest. His Majesty then subsequently collapsed from the shock and was rushed to St Mary's Hospital where he was pronounced dead on arrival from massive amounts of internal bleeding alongside his aforementioned injuries.
Edward VIII, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland, and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India (1894-1964, aged 70 years)
The shock of the assassination was shown throughout the British Empire and the world at large. Then-US President John F. Kennedy sent his condolences, as all governments throughout the Free World did. The Communalist powers were quick to deny any involvement, fuelling conspiracy theories of Red involvement while Wilhelm Peick’s government vehemently denied any such involvement. This even reached the point where the leader attended the monarch’s funeral as the Détente of Anglo-German relations began to warm up slightly upon the dictator’s death in 1965. The rise of one Willy Brandt (read, Brezhnev) within the People’s Party lead to a shaky peace that was occasionally punctuated by war in the Orient, South America or the African continent. No major military posturing took place throughout the 1960’s as social changes, new leaders and technological advancements came and went.
All the while, mankind looked to the heavens as the new frontier of space was opened up…
King Albert I by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland, and of the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith, Emperor of India (1895-1982, aged 85)
“We shall land on the Moon not only because we chose to. We will also do it for King, Parliament and Empire!” – Prime Minister Paul McCartney (1920-1989).
An excerpt from: “The Sixties: A BBC Documentary Special”
Originally broadcasted on the 4th of September 2013 on BBC 1.
KitFisto1997
Banned
Is anyone even reading this thread...?
I'm kinda surprised by the lack of activity...
Please don't be a shadow ban...
I'm kinda surprised by the lack of activity...
KitFisto1997
Banned
At least somebody is! I'm just used to seeing the feedback on other forum posts being at such a high volume, so I'm a little puzzled as to why I can go for a week or so without replies... It's not that I want my TL to be seen by everyone, I just wonder if something's up.
Thanks for the support.
At least somebody is! I'm just used to seeing the feedback on other forum posts being at such a high volume, so I'm a little puzzled as to why I can go for a week or so without replies... It's not that I want my TL to be seen by everyone, I just wonder if something's up.
Thanks for the support.
Don't worry man, I get scared in the same way, mine's still not getting much attention. But yeah great work still!
London Arc: Chapter 5
KitFisto1997
Banned
“Don't turn around… Der Kommissar's in town~ You're in his eye and you'll know why… The more you live, the faster you will die… Alles klar, Herr Kommissar~?”
-------0-------
“Iechyd da i chi, Eich Uchelder Brenhinol…”
“Iechyd da i chi, Isiarll.” The Prince of Wales spoke back as he firmly shook Marcus’s hand, wondering for a moment if he’d seen the young lad before. He quickly brushed it aside before taking a seat at the long conference table. Marcus also took a seat at the other end of the table, alongside associates from the Agency. A rather tenuous silence fell across the room before Marcus cleared his throat, speaking with an almost impeccable RP accent.
“Shall we start the negotiations?”
A few murmurs of suspicion broke another moment of silence as the security details drew the curtains while a holographic projection flared up from one of the empty seats, revealing a man in his late 50’s, looking more than a little worse for wear with a fedora on his head and a plain suit that suggested that he was from a world which had more retro fashion senses.
“Your Highnesses, Peers, MP’s and the like, I introduce to you the head of this operation: Logan Herz...” Marcus said as the man cleared his throat before speaking in what seemed to be an archaic form of Austrian German, something that a few of the men noticed.
“Thank you for the introduction, Herr Wright…” the aging Austrian let out a sigh before continuing. “Due to the sudden turn of events in this specific timeline due to circumstances that we cannot reveal to you at this very moment, our highest ranking members have decided to aid your governments in intelligence gathering and resource allocation. If you want to see this so-called Red Army Faction extinguished, I suggest you work with us with little resistance as possible.”
Prince Charles looked at the man for a moment, his face seemed to show experience of some sort, a man of integrity and honesty. But it also seemed to hide a man who was forced to lie for the benefit of the many at the cost of a few.
“What if we refuse this generous offer?” the heir spoke up, trying to gauge the reaction of the men and women around him. They all seemed to be surprised by the mysterious organisation that had only revealed themselves mere days prior, but were still wary of their initial purpose.
“We will simply leave you to your own devices…” Logan said without reservation. “We have more pressing matters back on the home front, it was only due to the lobbying by Herr Wright and his associates that we managed to get enough support for a stealthy intervention…”
“Is that so, Your Lordship?” The Princess of Wales spoke to the aristocrat in question as he suddenly perked up upon gazing at her ever so familiar visage. Years of intermarriage within the Spencer family had been productive in securing his own family some much wanted prestige, although it was their investment in the colonies that brought them much wealth, but also much derision later down the line…
“I must confirm your suspicions, Your Highness.” Marcus replied. “I intend to continue running freelance operations around the world due to our constant staff shortages. The rest of our Agents based in these fair Isles shall be at your disposal for gathering intelligence and co-ordinating strikes against Red Army Faction cells in the region – from behind the scenes, that is. It is the least we can do for you; as full-on military-style intervention may force you to rely on us too much… We most certainly do not want that happening…”
“How long shall this operation take then?” one of the Peers asked with a hint of curiosity, but also with the same defensive posture that many of his fellow men had when it came to the cryptic responses that these Agents had for them.
“As long as it takes for us to find their leaders… We have no fixed schedule, in fact… We’re just as clueless as you in some areas…” Logan sighed as he fixed his fedora.
“So we’re putting a lot of faith in a bunch of technologically advanced men and women from who or when knows where who don’t even know what they’re fighting?” the head of MI6 spluttered out in a panicked, but also angry tone. “This is preposterous, surely you see this too, Your Highness?” the man looked at Charles with the same look on his face as the Royal looked at Marcus with a confident smirk.
“Maybe we need a little faith…” the heir said, almost as cryptically as the young man sitting on the other end of the table.
“Glad to see that we’re in line with things, Your Highness…” Marcus smirked back, but the man suddenly was taken aback by the sounds of gunfire coming from the other side of the door, followed by a loud bang, then a louder crash as some mortar presumably fell from the façade of the palace. Marcus then knew that he’d have to protect everyone in the room at all costs, even the lives of his fellow Agents who were equally trained in non-lethal combat.
“Get the Royals to a secure location, NOW!” Marcus yelled as most of the military officers started to escort the Prince and Princess of Wales out of the room through another door, with a few Agents following them for good measure. Marcus stood his ground however as the doors burst open to reveal a flashbang grenade rolling into the room. The Prussian then let out a sigh as his reading glasses suddenly became tinted while he pulled out his Luger from his concealed harness. He cocked the pistol in what seemed like to be an instant as he raised it to meet the face of the hapless RAF grunt that had sauntered into the room. Marcus then smirked as he feathered the trigger before pressing down on it - all before letting out a patriotic war-cry.
“FOR QUEEN AND EMPIRE!”
-------0-------
“Iechyd da i chi, Eich Uchelder Brenhinol…”
“Iechyd da i chi, Isiarll.” The Prince of Wales spoke back as he firmly shook Marcus’s hand, wondering for a moment if he’d seen the young lad before. He quickly brushed it aside before taking a seat at the long conference table. Marcus also took a seat at the other end of the table, alongside associates from the Agency. A rather tenuous silence fell across the room before Marcus cleared his throat, speaking with an almost impeccable RP accent.
“Shall we start the negotiations?”
A few murmurs of suspicion broke another moment of silence as the security details drew the curtains while a holographic projection flared up from one of the empty seats, revealing a man in his late 50’s, looking more than a little worse for wear with a fedora on his head and a plain suit that suggested that he was from a world which had more retro fashion senses.
“Your Highnesses, Peers, MP’s and the like, I introduce to you the head of this operation: Logan Herz...” Marcus said as the man cleared his throat before speaking in what seemed to be an archaic form of Austrian German, something that a few of the men noticed.
“Thank you for the introduction, Herr Wright…” the aging Austrian let out a sigh before continuing. “Due to the sudden turn of events in this specific timeline due to circumstances that we cannot reveal to you at this very moment, our highest ranking members have decided to aid your governments in intelligence gathering and resource allocation. If you want to see this so-called Red Army Faction extinguished, I suggest you work with us with little resistance as possible.”
Prince Charles looked at the man for a moment, his face seemed to show experience of some sort, a man of integrity and honesty. But it also seemed to hide a man who was forced to lie for the benefit of the many at the cost of a few.
“What if we refuse this generous offer?” the heir spoke up, trying to gauge the reaction of the men and women around him. They all seemed to be surprised by the mysterious organisation that had only revealed themselves mere days prior, but were still wary of their initial purpose.
“We will simply leave you to your own devices…” Logan said without reservation. “We have more pressing matters back on the home front, it was only due to the lobbying by Herr Wright and his associates that we managed to get enough support for a stealthy intervention…”
“Is that so, Your Lordship?” The Princess of Wales spoke to the aristocrat in question as he suddenly perked up upon gazing at her ever so familiar visage. Years of intermarriage within the Spencer family had been productive in securing his own family some much wanted prestige, although it was their investment in the colonies that brought them much wealth, but also much derision later down the line…
“I must confirm your suspicions, Your Highness.” Marcus replied. “I intend to continue running freelance operations around the world due to our constant staff shortages. The rest of our Agents based in these fair Isles shall be at your disposal for gathering intelligence and co-ordinating strikes against Red Army Faction cells in the region – from behind the scenes, that is. It is the least we can do for you; as full-on military-style intervention may force you to rely on us too much… We most certainly do not want that happening…”
“How long shall this operation take then?” one of the Peers asked with a hint of curiosity, but also with the same defensive posture that many of his fellow men had when it came to the cryptic responses that these Agents had for them.
“As long as it takes for us to find their leaders… We have no fixed schedule, in fact… We’re just as clueless as you in some areas…” Logan sighed as he fixed his fedora.
“So we’re putting a lot of faith in a bunch of technologically advanced men and women from who or when knows where who don’t even know what they’re fighting?” the head of MI6 spluttered out in a panicked, but also angry tone. “This is preposterous, surely you see this too, Your Highness?” the man looked at Charles with the same look on his face as the Royal looked at Marcus with a confident smirk.
“Maybe we need a little faith…” the heir said, almost as cryptically as the young man sitting on the other end of the table.
“Glad to see that we’re in line with things, Your Highness…” Marcus smirked back, but the man suddenly was taken aback by the sounds of gunfire coming from the other side of the door, followed by a loud bang, then a louder crash as some mortar presumably fell from the façade of the palace. Marcus then knew that he’d have to protect everyone in the room at all costs, even the lives of his fellow Agents who were equally trained in non-lethal combat.
“Get the Royals to a secure location, NOW!” Marcus yelled as most of the military officers started to escort the Prince and Princess of Wales out of the room through another door, with a few Agents following them for good measure. Marcus stood his ground however as the doors burst open to reveal a flashbang grenade rolling into the room. The Prussian then let out a sigh as his reading glasses suddenly became tinted while he pulled out his Luger from his concealed harness. He cocked the pistol in what seemed like to be an instant as he raised it to meet the face of the hapless RAF grunt that had sauntered into the room. Marcus then smirked as he feathered the trigger before pressing down on it - all before letting out a patriotic war-cry.
“FOR QUEEN AND EMPIRE!”
RULE BRITANNICA! GOD SAVE THE EMPIRE! Great work!
Last edited:
KitFisto1997
Banned
Needless to say that the patriotism has gone to Marcus's head. Probably in a bad way...
Last edited:
KitFisto1997
Banned
Pretty much... Chalk it up to British parents being stuck in Berlin when the nukes fell. Right place, wrong time...
Having a military family and by extension a shell shocked father (Vietnam, Falklands... Not to mention being stuck in a city while everything burns around them...) has kinda instilled some patriotism in him for both his family name and his *technically* adopted homeland. He struggles with a bit of an identity crisis as a result of all of this.
Then there's his *other* problem...
The Space Race
KitFisto1997
Banned
“When they (the farmers) saw me in my space suit and the parachute dragging alongside as I walked, they started to back away in fear. I told them, don't be afraid, I am a German like you, who has descended from space and I must find a telephone to call Berlin!” – Walther Brach (1934-1993). – An excerpt from the Norddeutscher Rundfunk series “Die Raumfahrt” which aired from 1992-1993. Brach died days after his interview had finished at age 59 from stomach cancer.
--
The militarisation of space can be traced back to the events of the Space Race, which ran from 1953 - when the first unmanned spacecraft was fired into the heavens – to 1964 – when the joint Anglo-French Artemis Project landed two men on the moon. The first steps into space, however were taken by the Germans on the 17th of June 1956 with Walther Brach ascending to the heavens in the first of many flights under the Sachsen series of manned spacecraft. Brach orbited the planet once before landing in a field not too far from the Austro-Hungarian border in the Saxon Socialist Republic.
The German press and government then celebrated this huge technological and political victory over the British Empire as the Westminster Government poured millions of pounds into the Ministry of Space, which saw to many great achievements to rival that of the Germans. By early 1957, the British had sent their first man to space and were well on their way to developing functioning satellites by 1959. With the ‘Moonshot’ program (later renamed Artemis) being announced in 1958 - Prime Minister McCartney promised to send a man to the moon by the end of the next decade. The Prime Minister stressed on co-operation between the British and French governments to speed up R&D in the fields of orbital rendezvous and other elements that were required for a trip to the moon and back. After years of tests in Earth and Lunar orbit, the first crew to orbit the moon (but not land) occurred on Saint George’s Day in 1963. The stage was then set for the Anglo-French moon landings in August of 1964.
The German Space Program, meanwhile, was seeing massive leaps and bounds in their own lunar program, but faced the occasional set-back with rockets exploding due to rushing to beat the Brits to the moon. The head of the German Space Program – one Wernher von Braun – was almost fired after the prototype Lunar module exploded on the launchpad, killing various high ranking members of the Politbüro. Von Braun later redeemed himself as he demonstrated the German’s answer to the Artemis Program in 1963. But by the time the rocket was ready to embark upon its journey in 1965, the Anglo-French team had beaten them to it.
The manned lunar landing took place on the 22nd of August, 1964 when the landing craft of the Normandie made its descent towards the Copernicus Crater, landing a mere 20 minutes after it separated from the orbiting command module Essex. The silence of momentous occasion was then broken as former RAF pilot Edward Gustaw (also born to members of the Polish Resettlement Corps.) stepped off of the Normandie’s ladder and uttered these immortal words:
“We have landed on the moon, not only for our Empire and its subjects, but for the good of humanity at large!”
Gustaw was then followed by former French Royal Marine Henrique de Monfort, both of which raised their respective national flags (Gustaw also flew the Polish-Lithuanian flag and was also the first to perform Communion on the moon alongside de Monfort (despite the latter being a French Huguenot, he accepted it as a way to bring the struggling churches together). The two astronauts then received calls from the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, President of the United States, King Albert I, King Michał II of the Polish-Lithuanian Crown-in-exile and many other political and spiritual leaders (among them Pope Paul VI and the French King Henri VI).
The crew of the Normandie also took their time to perform many experiments on the Lunar surface, uncovering a great deal of scientific discoveries on the Moon’s properties before leaving various plaques and memorials to those who had died in the pursuit of their goal.
The Normandie then ascended to Lunar orbit approximately 4 days’ after landing. The crew then re-joined the orbiting Essex before setting off for Earth. The crew of three eventually splashed down off the coast of Hawaii on the 26th of August, 1964 to great celebration. German lunar landings later took place in 1965 promoting similar fanfare from the Red bloc. The two sides eventually co-operated on various projects such as an international moonbase and various other landings to fuel their burgeoning space-based empires.
But as tensions rose between the states in the 1970’s, these projects turned to military posturing. The field test of the first mass driver system in 1968 was the beginning of the end of peaceful expansion into space. The Cold War was heating up after a decade long absence. The powder keg of the Orient was to explode once more as Project Zeus came to fruition.
EDIT.
I totally forgot that I did this in Photoshop to go alongside the update, here it is!
--
The militarisation of space can be traced back to the events of the Space Race, which ran from 1953 - when the first unmanned spacecraft was fired into the heavens – to 1964 – when the joint Anglo-French Artemis Project landed two men on the moon. The first steps into space, however were taken by the Germans on the 17th of June 1956 with Walther Brach ascending to the heavens in the first of many flights under the Sachsen series of manned spacecraft. Brach orbited the planet once before landing in a field not too far from the Austro-Hungarian border in the Saxon Socialist Republic.
The German press and government then celebrated this huge technological and political victory over the British Empire as the Westminster Government poured millions of pounds into the Ministry of Space, which saw to many great achievements to rival that of the Germans. By early 1957, the British had sent their first man to space and were well on their way to developing functioning satellites by 1959. With the ‘Moonshot’ program (later renamed Artemis) being announced in 1958 - Prime Minister McCartney promised to send a man to the moon by the end of the next decade. The Prime Minister stressed on co-operation between the British and French governments to speed up R&D in the fields of orbital rendezvous and other elements that were required for a trip to the moon and back. After years of tests in Earth and Lunar orbit, the first crew to orbit the moon (but not land) occurred on Saint George’s Day in 1963. The stage was then set for the Anglo-French moon landings in August of 1964.
The German Space Program, meanwhile, was seeing massive leaps and bounds in their own lunar program, but faced the occasional set-back with rockets exploding due to rushing to beat the Brits to the moon. The head of the German Space Program – one Wernher von Braun – was almost fired after the prototype Lunar module exploded on the launchpad, killing various high ranking members of the Politbüro. Von Braun later redeemed himself as he demonstrated the German’s answer to the Artemis Program in 1963. But by the time the rocket was ready to embark upon its journey in 1965, the Anglo-French team had beaten them to it.
The manned lunar landing took place on the 22nd of August, 1964 when the landing craft of the Normandie made its descent towards the Copernicus Crater, landing a mere 20 minutes after it separated from the orbiting command module Essex. The silence of momentous occasion was then broken as former RAF pilot Edward Gustaw (also born to members of the Polish Resettlement Corps.) stepped off of the Normandie’s ladder and uttered these immortal words:
“We have landed on the moon, not only for our Empire and its subjects, but for the good of humanity at large!”
Gustaw was then followed by former French Royal Marine Henrique de Monfort, both of which raised their respective national flags (Gustaw also flew the Polish-Lithuanian flag and was also the first to perform Communion on the moon alongside de Monfort (despite the latter being a French Huguenot, he accepted it as a way to bring the struggling churches together). The two astronauts then received calls from the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, President of the United States, King Albert I, King Michał II of the Polish-Lithuanian Crown-in-exile and many other political and spiritual leaders (among them Pope Paul VI and the French King Henri VI).
The crew of the Normandie also took their time to perform many experiments on the Lunar surface, uncovering a great deal of scientific discoveries on the Moon’s properties before leaving various plaques and memorials to those who had died in the pursuit of their goal.
The Normandie then ascended to Lunar orbit approximately 4 days’ after landing. The crew then re-joined the orbiting Essex before setting off for Earth. The crew of three eventually splashed down off the coast of Hawaii on the 26th of August, 1964 to great celebration. German lunar landings later took place in 1965 promoting similar fanfare from the Red bloc. The two sides eventually co-operated on various projects such as an international moonbase and various other landings to fuel their burgeoning space-based empires.
But as tensions rose between the states in the 1970’s, these projects turned to military posturing. The field test of the first mass driver system in 1968 was the beginning of the end of peaceful expansion into space. The Cold War was heating up after a decade long absence. The powder keg of the Orient was to explode once more as Project Zeus came to fruition.
EDIT.
I totally forgot that I did this in Photoshop to go alongside the update, here it is!
Last edited:
Makes me curious about the Space programs of other countries. Which country has one or could have one?
KitFisto1997
Banned
As of 2015 the list is as follows (mostly regarding Lunar bases and space stations):
- Great Britain
- Germany
- France
- Russia/Aleyska (a joint program since the end of the Cold War)
- Qing China
- USA (a very limited presence with only two major bases on the moon)
- Brazil
- Japan
- California
- Maybe the Red army Faction~