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| Unease in the Southern Mediterranean | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 1 2017, 03:40 PM (189 Views) | |
| Ghaselja | Aug 1 2017, 03:40 PM Post #1 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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MEDITERRANEAN ARCHIPELAGO'S INTEGRATION PROVING TO BE THORN IN PORCU'S SIDE Posted Image -Mdina, Porcuian Melita Four years since the Porcuian annexation of the ancient Roman possessions of Melita, local frustrations with the mainland have steadily increased. Porcuian Melita, known as Għaselja to the local Maltese, has not experienced a smooth transition from self-governing archipelago in the southern Mediterranean to obscure overseas possession, ruled by a northern European power struggling under the weight of its own bureaucracy. In the wake of damning political crises, military interventions, riots, and protests on the Porcuian mainland, local Għaselji equally cite recently passed Porcuian political and economic reforms as reasons why Għaselja deserves increased sovereignty. Marija Stivala, a bus driver from Victoria, Gozo, believes Porcu's good political intentions lay the foundations for a self-determinant Għaselja. "In recent years, the Porcuian government have instituted some fantastic policies: electoral reform and proportional representation in government, a universal basic income, and the latest income ceiling law. With these progressive, egalitarian laws in place, the people of Għaselja have quickly come to realize that we, too, can succeed as a country, with or without Porcu's help." The Times of Għaselja conducted a series of polls last month to gauge public interest in future possibilities for Għaselja, with 50% of respondents opting for complete independence from Porcu, 47% in favour of increased sovereignty yet remaining as Porcuian subjects, and 3% maintaining the status quo. Amid increased tensions with the Porcuian mainland, this summer has seen large protests forming across Għaselja. Whereas some political scientists correlate high unemployment among Għaselja's youth and seasonal unease with the summer heat to result in the numerous, albeit benign protests, local politicians argue otherwise. Late last year, an unrecognized shadow parliament was established in the Għaselji city of Mdina and current President Karmela Borġ believes Porcu's experiment in the southern Mediterranean may not be as successful as originally planned. "Look, we as Għaselji are grateful to Porcu for its years of protection and sympathize with the Porcuian experiment; we as a territory did vote for annexation, after all. That being said, a lot has happened in the last four years and our shadow government firmly believes that Għaselja knows what's best for Għaselji," Borġ said at a press conference in Mdina earlier this morning. The current Għaselji shadow leadership is calling upon the Porcuian government to hold official talks on increased Għaselji sovereignty as well as to provide electoral observers to facilitate any possible referenda. |
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| Porcu | Aug 1 2017, 10:29 PM Post #2 |
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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."
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Posted Image Siracusa, Overseas Province of the Republic of Porcu Provincial Governor Marcus Aurelius Cotta sat in the lush garden of the governor's estate as he read over newspaper reports of yet another popular movement in Melita. The estate was vast and had been bought from one of the city's more patrician families and contained an array of priceless artifacts from antiquity through to the Renaissance. Yet, it was the garden that gave the property its real value, at least in the humble opinion of the estate's present resident. The garden overlooked the crisp, blue waters of the Mediterranean and was well positioned to catch the afternoon cross breezes. The Governor's coffee had become cold by the time he finished reading the newspaper articles. The morning sun was already strong but its warm rays were not enough to lift the sour expression from his face. He was honestly conflicted: the Governor believed himself a genuine liberal and wanted for all the world's peoples to express their right of self-determination, yet he was deeply angered by the islander's brazenness. This "shadow government" had chosen to forward communication directly to Ariminae. In following this line of thought Aurelius Cotta almost flew into a rage when he considered that the island's Provincial Prefect, a gentleman he himself had promoted to the position, had also not reached out to him thus far. Within a few minutes the Governor had his prefect on the telephone. The conversation was unpleasant but straightforward: tighten the screws and bring the Melitans to heel. |
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| Ghaselja | Aug 2 2017, 06:52 AM Post #3 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Posted Image Archbishop's Palace, Mdina, Porcuian Melita Having just spoken with Governor Cotta, Melita's Provincial Prefect was as upset as he was embarrassed. Little did the Governor know that Rizzi had not even been contacted by the journalist who wrote yesterday's story. Protests in Melita in the summer were a rather normal occurance; it was a complete surprise to him that someone had drawn the connection between popular protests and dissatisfaction with the Porcuian central government. Still, the Prefect knew something on the islands was wrong when he had no idea what was unfolding around him. Samuel Rizzi placed the telephone receiver back on his desk, took a deep breath, and looked out of his office window. Though still late morning, the summer sun beat down onto the limestone city, the reflective, white buildings making the day seem even brighter and hotter. "It's going to be another miserable, humid day," Rizzi said to himself. "Likely the perfect time for more protests..." Heeding the Governor's words, Rizzi pondered the alternatives. He could put on a show and symbolically reign in the many protests across the islands and appease the Governor and the central government. Melita was a small territory and everyone knew everyone; Rizzi had his family's reputation to consider, after all. On the other hand, finding a good job in Melita was like finding a secluded beach in summer: damn near impossible. Acting as Provincial Prefect was by far the cushiest job Rizzi had ever held. Though his conversation with the Governor hurt his pride, Rizzi still held the Governor in high esteem and respected him greatly. Standing up from his desk with a contemplative scowl, Rizzi walked over to the small wine rack in the corner of his office and reached for a bottle of ġellewża. Most certainly not a stranger to having a drink before noon, Rizzi brought the bottle back to his desk, opened the bottle with the corkscrew sat next to his penknife, and poured himself a glass. Taking a long, slow sip, Rizzi considered and reconsidered his options regarding the Governor's words. "Tighten the screws." As much as he knew the next phone call he made would change Melita forever, Rizzi knew what he had to do. Buzzing his administrative assistant, Rizzi said sternly, "Get me the chief of police." |
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| Ghaselja | Aug 3 2017, 08:21 AM Post #4 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Posted Image Il-Mall, Floriana, Porcuian Melita What started as a peaceful demonstration in metropolitan Birkirkara this morning quickly turned into a violent skirmish between students, political leftists, and unemployed youth and riot police officers. Thousands of ethnic Għaselji took to the streets today in one of many protests that have gripped the small Mediterranean islands this summer. Though a regular occurrence in Porcuian Melita, today's events were the first to turn violent. At 10h38 this morning, riot police confronted the protestors on il-Mall in Floriana, metres away from Melita's central bus terminal. Unarmed demonstrators carried signs and chanted slogans, only to be attacked by riot police bearing stun batons, tear gas, and shields. As the police engaged with the protestors, hundreds of masked and hooded youths punched and kicked motorcycle police, knocking several off their bikes. Police responded with volleys of tear gas and stun grenades, injuring dozens. The violence spread after the end of the march to a nearby square, where police faced off with stone-throwing anarchists and suffocating clouds of tear gas sent patrons scurrying from open-air cafes. Rioters used sledge hammers to smash the glass fronts of more than a dozen shops, banks, jewellers, and a cinema. Protestors also set fire to rubbish bins and a car, smashed bus stops, and chopped blocks off marble balustrades and building facades to use as projectiles. Today's demonstration - the fourth in a week - brought the small territory to a virtual standstill, grounding all flights and bringing public transport to a halt. Shopkeepers along the demonstration route hastily rolled down their shutters, while a few blocks away, people could hear screaming and minor explosions as police overwhelmed the protestors. Tear gas wafted through the town centre's streets, sending people scurrying for cover, their eyes streaming. Minor clashes also broke out in the northern city of Buġibba, where about 4,000 people marched through the town centre. Today's protests shut down all public services and schools, leaving ferries tied up at port and suspending all news broadcasts for the day. Today's events, which can only be described as unprecedented, sent shockwaves through Melitan society. Public outcry over the police response to the initially peaceful protest flooded social media sites, including FriendFace and Jitter. Thousands of online posts have called for the Porcuian Provincial Prefect's and Chief of Police's resignations over what many are calling wildly heavy-handed responses to otherwise mundane activities. |
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| Porcu | Aug 3 2017, 05:20 PM Post #5 |
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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."
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In an acknowledgement of public outcry the Provincial Prefect Samuel Rizzi eventually did release a statement that read, in part: "...Melita remains an integral part of the Republic and forces which would divide us must be made aware of our commitment and shared responsibility to each other...Local police and National Gendarme were called in today to bring order back to areas overrun by opportunistic thugs. The situation across Melita continues to be volatile; therefore, I have called on the Chief of Police to institute a mandatory curfew until such a time that safety and security have returned...Those who instigated violence against innocent bystanders, public officers, and State property, either directly or indirectly, will be held accountable for their actions..." |
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| Ghaselja | Aug 3 2017, 06:18 PM Post #6 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Posted Image "What an insult," the Għaselji shadow President said in her living room as she watched the evening news broadcast with her partner, Paulo. "Can you believe this? Rizzi ordered the police to attack peaceful protestors and now the rest of the country must be punished? Tomorrow, I'm calling an emergency session of the parliament. These totalitarian measures cannot stand." "You're right, honey. There's nothing you can do tonight, though, so let's just eat; I've got stuffat tal-fennek on the stove simmering." Karmela Borġ got up from the couch and switched off the television set. Normally quite the effervescent and outgoing person, President Borġ was beside herself. Sure, she had been in local politics a long time; she had seen a lot in her life and knew that the rest of the world would eventually come to her tiny island. Borġ had not expected this, though: violent rioting and police brutality. Where was she? These sorts of things did not happen in Għaselja. There must be something she could do... Seeing the frustration and pensive anger in his parter's face, Paulo walked into the kitchen and grabbed the stew and placed the pot on the dining room table. Before going back to grab a bottle of wine, Paulo walked up behind Karmela, still standing and lost in thought behind her chair. Paulo put his hands gently on Karmela's shoulders and softly brushed her hair to one side, exposing the nape of her neck. Karmela was brought back to reality as Paulo's warm, soft lips pressed against her skin. Feeling the compassion and love emanating from her partner, Karmela smiled warmly and said quietly, "Inħobbok, għeżież. Now, let's eat. This looks delicious!" The couple ate their dinner in peace, their quiet neighbourhood in Rabat completely unaware of the machinations set in motion by the Prefectural government. As night descended upon the limestone islands, Rizzi's curfew took effect, though staying off the territory's streets was not nearly the extent of it. Across the small islands, police officers in riot gear accompanied governmental electrical engineers who, under the cover of darkness, disabled telecommunications towers and satellite transmitters. Police officers donning assault rifles patrolled the streets of Melita's towns and villages, violently apprehending anyone caught outside their homes after dark, including the many aged fishermen who awoke long before dawn to catch the day's goods. Military-grade checkpoints were established along major roads and at entrances to towns and villages. The ferry terminals at Ċirkewwa and Mġarr, which connected the main island of Għaselja with the second-largest island of Gozo, respectively, were commandeered by the police and airport-style security was instituted. Outside the homes of the shadow government's parliamentarians and personnel, heavily armed police officers were stationed. Little did Borġ know that when she awoke the next morning, Melita had been transformed into a veritable police state and she, along with her colleagues, had been placed under house arrest. |
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| Ghaselja | Aug 4 2017, 08:01 AM Post #7 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Posted Image Various locations across Porcuian Melita During the first night of the curfew, almost three hundred civilians had been arrested. Fishermen, tourists, students, and taxi drivers, all people who were otherwise active after dark, had been apprehended by police and held at detention centres around the islands. Unbeknownst to both Provincial Prefect Rizzi and the people of Melita, the curfew's wide-sweeping effects were going to have massive unintended consequences. As the people of Melita arose the next morning, they would quickly realize that their sleepy island nation had become highly regulated and governed by martial law. Members of the Għaselji shadow government awoke to find their mobile phones without service, their home internet connections disabled, and their electricity disconnected. The regular hustle and bustle of Melita's towns was eerily missing as even the expected Friday garbage trucks were absent from the territory's roads. As Għaselji turned on their television sets, the only broadcast they would see was the now state-controlled news station. All commercial flights to and from Melita were cancelled, stranding thousands of tourists who had come to the islands for a summer holiday. Ferry services between Gozo and Għaselja as well as all bus services were stopped, leaving over half the population stuck in their immediate neighbourhoods and villages. With tourism being Melita's primary source of income, the islands' economy had come to a crashing halt. Throughout the morning, Għaselji across Melita found themselves confronting a heavily armed and intolerant Prefectural government. At checkpoints around the territory, police stopped and searched every vehicle for items that seemed to have no connection to yesterday's events. People found themselves arrested for their cars sporting the traditional red and white bicolour of ethnic Għaselji. On their way to market, elderly people, most of whom could not speak the Latin or Greek of the Porcuian state, were dragged from their cars as onlookers watched in horror. Drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians were interrogated about yesterday's events and anyone voicing the least bit of sympathy for the protestors was promptly apprehended. At exactly noon, state-sanctioned camera-persons accompanied police to the homes of every member of the Għaselji shadow government. Over a live feed, cameras broadcasted as police donning riot gear broke down the doors of parliamentarians' homes and flamboyantly arrested all sixty-nine members of the shadow government as well as President Borġ. As reported by the news anchor, the Għaselji parliamentarians had been arrested for treason and would be publicly tried in the coming days. Just before being pushed into a police van, President Borġ looked back at the camera, raised an eyebrow, and gave a defiant stare. |
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| Ghaselja | Aug 5 2017, 08:55 AM Post #8 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Posted Image Żebbuġ Police Station, Żebbuġ, Gozo, Porcuian Melita Five people have been killed and 39 wounded early this morning in a car bomb attack by Gozitan militants on a police station and adjacent housing for officers on the second-largest Melitan island of Gozo, the Porcuian Provincial Prefecture has said. Two people were killed in an initial car bomb attack blamed on the Għawdexi Freedom Party north of the Gozitan capital of Victoria, while three more lost their lives when a building collapsed due to the damage sustained, the Prefect’s office said in a statement. Images published by state-sanctioned Melitan media showed the early-morning blast caused huge damage to the residential building used by the police officers and their families, with the entire outer wall blown out. Both police and civilians were wounded but initial reports said all those killed were police officers. The Prefect’s office said that 14 people were injured in the initial bomb blast while 25 were wounded by the collapse of the building, including five who had been rescued from the rubble by emergency teams. The attackers also followed up the car bomb attack with molotov cocktails and short-range gunfire, reports said. It was not clear if this caused any additional casualties. The GĦFP launched an informal, albeit non-violent, insurgency against the Porcuian state four years ago upon the official annexation of Melita. The dual purpose political party and freedom fighting organization initially advocated for Għawdexi independence, although it now presses more for greater autonomy and rights for the territory’s second-largest island. The events this morning are the first ever to turn deadly in Melita. This new upsurge of violence between the Porcuian security forces and the GĦFP are thought to have erupted in the wake of a strict and far-reaching curfew instigated by the Provincial Prefect coupled with the public arrest of all sixty-nine members of the Għaselji shadow government yesterday afternoon. Vowing to flush out those responsible for the protests that turned violent on Thursday morning, authorities claim to be formulating even more draconian measures to crack down on insurgents across the islands. |
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| Porcu | Aug 6 2017, 10:48 PM Post #9 |
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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."
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In only a matter of a few days the situation in Melita had rapidly deteriorated. Largely peaceful protests had given way to violent clashes between local police and protestors and the bustling streets, cafes, and beaches of the pristine Porcuian province had made room for empty streets, deserted public spaces, and an eerie silence during most hours of the day and night. Journalists, both local and international, felt that the situation could only worsen and began to publish lengthy articles detailing their experiences as they tried to navigate the province and speak with residents. In the wake of the bombing of a police station in Gozo, the Provincial Prefect - as a result of direct orders from the Provincial Governor in Siracusa - stated that all tourists and non-Porcuian residents would be removed from the islands. The prospect of an incident involving Austrian, Russian, African Federation, or French citizens deeply frightened the Provincial government. The airport was re-opened to allow for flights with tourists to depart, and only a handful of flights full of foodstuffs and medical equipment to arrive. The imposition of a curfew and security checkpoints severely disrupted the daily routine for a majority of Melitans and it did not take long for their cries to be heard across the globe. One pair of ears, in particular, heard the plight of the Melitans and sensed a grand opportunity. Spurius Tricostus Caeliomontanus sat aboard a special flight to Melita that he had managed to commandeer. Despite having no imperium, powers that were granted by Parliament, the parliamentarian was able to bully his way onto the flight. He understood very well that his actions could merit severe sanction by Parliament or, at the very least, would likely be met with great disapproval. He was prepared for that eventuality. News leaked out mid-flight that the far-right leader was on his way to Melita to push for the release of the jailed Melitan parliamentarians. Tricostus Caeliomontanus arrived to find a welcome party equal parts National Gendarme and journalists. Local authorities were absolutely confused as to the reason for the parliamentarian's arrival and a delay in communication on the part of the Prefect's office forced the hand of the Chief of Police. Officially, the police sent to meet Tricostus Caeliomontanus were for his protection, but they were actually there to watch him and to act if necessary - but for what was anyone's guess. The stocky and charming party leader descended from the plane to the rattling sound of cameras. Despite the effort of police to keep the journalists at bay several were able to position their microphones and cellphones near enough to the parliamentarian to hear his response to their questions. "Tricostus Caeliomontanus! What brings you to Melita?!" "Is Parliament taking up the issue of Melitan independence?!" "Have you spoken to Governor Aurelius Cotta or Prefect Rizzi?!" A calm and collected Tricostus Caeliomontanus slowly worked his way through the crowd, pushing further along toward an average and unofficial-looking car. "I do not come here on behalf of Parliament." he began. "I come only as a concerned citizen of the Republic, confused as to why our brothers and sisters are being mistreated. Here! In what amounts to paradise, the world begins to see the ugly underbelly of a Republic that no longer believes in the common man and woman and of a government that is no longer responsive to its citizens." "What do you intend to do?!" "Will you speak with members of the shadow government?!" "I come to observe for myself the unbelievable situation and to provide whatever assistance I can to my fellow brothers and sisters of the Republic. Unlike Ariminae, I have no intention of hiding from the ugly facts and want to work with the Melitans in bringing out a peaceful resolution to this unfortunate situation...I will see if I am able to have an audience with the Prefect, but I am very much hoping to meet with the principle members of the shadow government." "What is your message to the people of Melita?!" "My message is that I am your friend and that I am not alone. I am confident I can speak for all registered members of the 'National Coalition for the Defense of the Republic' when I say that the Melitan struggle is one we support and hope to achieve together. Ariminae has become corrupted by the communists and socialists and their natural tendency for totalitarianism, à la Soviet Union or Yshurak, and we must prepare ourselves to defend that part of the Republic which they seek to destroy." Tricostus Caeliomontanus had finally arrived to the car and was let in by a pair of tough-looking civilians. The car promptly sped off away from the airport and into the warm evening that had descended on the island. |
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| Ghaselja | Aug 7 2017, 07:52 AM Post #10 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Posted Image Safi Detention Centre, Ħal Safi, Porcuian Melita With the news of Minister Tricostus Caeliomontanus' arrival on the islands, the small Porcuian territory was abuzz with diverse emotions: interest, excitement, even fear. In the four years since Melita's incorporation into the Republic, not once had a high-ranking member of government come to the territory, much less under such politically charged circumstances. Even those Għaselji who were optimistic about Tricostus Caeliomontanus' presence in Melita were confused as to his arrival. Due to Melita's small size and recent mandate of a single television news source, word of Tricostus Caeliomontanus' sentiments and intentions spread like wildfire...except to those whom he had hoped to meet. Since their arrest two days ago, the members of Għaselja's shadow government had been held at the Safi Detention Centre, a highly secured prison complex abutting the territory's lone airport. Though being a mere several hundred metres away, the Għaselji parliamentarians were none the wiser to the events unfolding around them. The Detention Centre, a prison otherwise used to hold illegal migrants, was under increased surveillance since the bombing on Gozo. The Centre's warden had been instructed by the Prefect himself to ensure that no one entered or exited the complex without Rizzi's approval; since the bombing, the shadow government had been deemed terrorists, after all. The car bombing on Gozo had actually been the catalyst Rizzi needed to ensure that the shadow government would receive as little public interaction, and sympathy, as possible. Though ensured a public trial, originally intended as a mockery and embarrassment for the Għaselji politicians, the shadow parliamentarians had been secretly sentenced to be executed under an antiquated treason law not enforced since the Middle Ages. Unbeknownst to the shadow government, they had one week until they were to be hanged. Edited by Ghaselja, Aug 7 2017, 10:51 AM.
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| Porcu | Aug 9 2017, 11:02 PM Post #11 |
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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."
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Posted Image Grandmaster's Palace, Valletta, Melita Since having established themselves on the islands after a popular referendum some years prior the Porcuians encamped in Valletta. The Governor of the province was stationed in Sicily and retained lavish quarters in a stunning seaside palace, yet the Prefect arguably enjoyed equal delights. The Grandmaster's palace was a magnificent site and served as the seat for the Prefectural administration of the islands which constituted Melita. The fact that the Porcuian government was technically a renter, leasing the palace for the Prefect and his office, and paid the city of Valletta for the pleasure of its use did not dampen Prefect Rizzi's sense of sovereignty over the Melitans. This changed quickly, however, with the arrival of parliamentarian and party leader Spurius Tricostus Caeliomontanus. His arrival, and especially his words, shook the small islands. The man commanded the attention of a Consul, yet wasn't even a lowly Quaestor. The fact that he did not hold any position within the cursus honorum did not faze him. Soon after landing on the largest of the islands, Tricostus Caeliomontanus was escorted to Valletta. He hoped to have a meeting with the Prefect himself. Curiously, his escort did not comprise local police or National Gendarmes. Members of the local branch of the 'National Coalition for the Defense of the Republic' had initially picked him up from the airport and were transporting him across Melita. The police would have stopped Tricostus Caeliomontanus but his appearance had caught them off guard and his ranking as a parliamentarian was enough to cause hesitation. Nevertheless, his position was closely monitored as the motorcar in which he rode came closer and closer to Valletta. Prefect Rizzi received word of Tricostus Caeliomontanus' arrival early in the morning, mere minutes after the plane had come to a stop. The Prefect received another, even less pleasant, message when it became clear the destination of the small pack of motorcars. The office in which Rizzi worked contained a very old, wooden desk, accented with gold, pearls, and large pieces of mother of pearl. It was dated back to the mid 1600s, and in difficult times the Prefect would take a moment to breath slowly, place his hands on the desk, and narrow his focus to the problem at hand. He tried to channel the wisdom of all those who had previously sat at this very desk. Again, he tilted his head back and thought of the bright, clear waters of the Mediterranean as he spread his hands across the desk. The cool feeling of the wood and the pearl flooded him. "Domine?" his assistant asked. "Domine?" "Yes..." Prefect Rizzi replied after a moment. "What do you wish to be done? Should I have the police intercept Tricostus Caeliomontanus?" Rizzi looked down at the desk and then shifted his gaze to the large windows lining the wall to his left and to the beautiful day just beyond. "No, that won't be necessary. I'll talk to him, if that's what he wants. Just make sure the palace is properly secured." The assistant bowed before exiting from the Prefect's office. It wasn't too long of a wait before Rizzi's assistant returned; this time it was to introduce the Honorable Spurius Tricostus Caeliomontanus. The far-right leader strut into the office and gave a bow so shallow and curt as to be extremely rude. The Prefect noted the offense, but forced a smile when he bowed in return. The two men became comfortable and discussion began after drinks were dispensed. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit, Tricostus Caeliomontanus." Rizzi began. "Well, I have to say that the view from Ariminae of events transpiring here - in these tiny islands - is not pretty. Just had to see for myself really." Tricostus Caeliomontanus replied, lifting his cup of tea to his lips. "I'm afraid I have to take issue with your description of matters here in Melita." The ultra-conservative leader balked. "What?! It looks like martial law out there to me, Prefect." "We are reigning in seditious elements and, unfortunately, this has required the implementation of certain tactics." Prefect Rizzi replied calmly. "Parliament doesn't see it that way." "Is that so?" Rizzi interjected. "Why then have I not heard a word from Ariminae?" "Why do you think I'm here?" Tricostus Caeliomontanus replied, sitting straight up in his chair to meet the Prefect's words. Of course, he was bluffing. If anything, it was true that the situation in Melita was increasingly drawing the attention of Ariminae but it wouldn't be for any reason that would suit Tricostus Caeliomontanus. Rizzi looked over the man sitting in front of him and wondered if he was to be trusted. "No...In fact, the longer he stays the more trouble he's likely to cause." Tricostus Caeliomontanus continued. He would have to be careful with how he worded his sentences. "Parliament is concerned, Prefect Rizzi, and I am taking it upon myself, only in my capacity as a private citizen and parliamentarian of the Republic, to view the situation here in Melita. It greatly concerns and disturbs me how things have progressed thus far." "We have things under control, Tricostus Caeliomontanus." "I request permission to speak with the members of the shadow government whom you've placed in detention." Rizzi shook his head emphatically. "No. I will not grant you that." Tricostus Caeliomontanus tried to force the issue. "I am preparing a brief for Parliament and I would like to include praise regarding your assistance." Rizzi laughed. "Write whatever you like!" "Don't force my hand!" "Force your hand...? You, Tricostus Caeliomontanus, do not have imperium. I do! You, Tricostus Caeliomontanus, don't seem to have any mandate for your adventure here in Melita. I have orders from the Governor himself! Tread carefully, Tricostus Caeliomontanus." "Are you threatening me? Are you threatening a member of the Parliament of Porcu?" "No...I'm warning you." Within a blink of an eye the far-right leader had leapt to his feet and the doors to the Prefect's office had opened. Two members of the Prefect's personal security stood at the ready, their small semi-automatic weapons trained on the Prefect's guest. It took several seconds for the rush of blood, that red veil across his vision, to subside. Tricostus Caeliomontanus had squeezed his hands so tightly that he had left fingernail imprints in his palms. Still seated, Prefect Rizzi watched as the ultra-conservative party leader was escorted out of his office and away to the same private motorcar that had brought him from the airport. Only when he was sure that his guest had left did Rizzi pick up the phone and dial Siracusa. "Yes? Rizzi?" Governor Aurelius Cotta asked. His mood seemed jovial. "Good morning, Your Excellency." The Prefect's tone gave away his uneasiness. "What is it?" "I just spoke with Tricostus Caeliomontanus..." "You spoke to him?!" "Yes. Well, even if he is only a parliamentarian, I felt it proper etiquette to meet with him." On the other side of the line Aurelius Cotta nodded, reluctantly, in agreement as he signed off on several orders. "And what did you discuss?" Rizzi recounted the entire conversation, almost verbatim, and impressed on the Governor his opinion that Tricostus Caeliomontanus' arrival only portended ill. The Prefect finished by asking for permission to expel the party leader, should he refuse to leave. That, unfortunately, was a step too far for the Governor. Having been in Porcuian politics a long time, he understood that such a move could easily hamper his chances at further promotions within the cursus honorum. He understood the need to contain the situation as much as possible - also because of increased activity by extreme conservative groups around the Republic and Tricostus Caeliomontanus' fingerprint on all of them. "Place him under surveillance for now. I will contact Ariminae and speak to Praetor Vibius Pansa, who currently oversees all overseas provincial affairs. Hopefully, I can have Tricostus Caeliomontanus officially recalled to Ariminae." the Governor replied, confident that he settled on an appropriate solution. + + + Luqa, Island of Ghaselja, Melita Tricostus Caeliomontanus had been transported out of Valletta by a group of individuals belonging to the local chapter of the 'National Coalition' party. As a Porcuian entity, the party did not factor into the island's shadow parliament. However, the party was able to make in-roads with those who either strongly supported the party's extreme positions and/or envisioned themselves as Porcuian. It was a short 20 minute drive out of the Prefectural administrative district in Valletta to the town known locally as Luqa. There, the Porcuian was introduced to the local 'National Coalition' Party Secretary Joseph Muscat. Muscat exited from his house with a grand smile when the motorcar carrying Tricostus Caeliomontanus pulled into the small courtyard in front of his house. He greeted the Porcuian with his best Latin, adding that he and his colleagues were extremely honored to host the Party's chairman. Tricostus Caeliomontanus feinted a smile and met Muscat's greeting with a firm handshake. Internally, he wondered how useful these Melitans would prove to be. Muscat's house was beautiful in its simplicity. Built from stone, the house was a wonderful retreat during hot days and provided a cool environment without the need of air conditioning. Muscat dismissed his colleagues in Maltese before shifting back to Porcuian Greek, since he was much more comfortable with the more casual vernacular of the Republic. Tricostus Caeliomontanus took little time settling in; he was soon sitting on a large leather couch in the living room with a glass of wine in hand. Olives and bits of toasted bread sat in two small bowls on the table in front of him. Pleasantries were dispensed with between the Porcuian and Muscat and his wife, who had been so kind as to initially offer the food and drinks. Tricostus Caeliomontanus desperately wanted to like the two Melitans but he found their accents atrocious. He hid his dislike well and began to ask about the situation in Melita, in Gozo especially. He was learning quickly: Melita could prove to be just the spark he needed. When a natural pause in the conversation came up Tricostus Caeliomontanus asked if he could speak to the Party Secretary in private. There were internal party matters he wanted to discuss. The hour had already begun to creep into the early afternoon, so Mrs. Muscat went about preparing lunch, while her husband and their honored guest retreated to the study. Muscat was excited as he closed the door to the study behind them, but was unprepared for the sudden seriousness of his guest. Tricostus Caeliomontanus turned suddenly to Muscat, looking him directly in the face. The Porcuian was only slightly taller but seemed to tower over the Melitan at that moment. "What are you prepared to do to save the Republic?" "I'm - I'm sorry?" Muscat stuttered. "Ariminae is corroding from the vile of the communists and socialists. I see the Republic buckling underneath that weight." Muscat relaxed slightly, his breathing normalizing again. "We also have that problem. Officially, the Left has control over the provincial assembly, and unofficially the shadow parliament is dominated by leftists." Tricostus Caeliomontanus nodded. "Their ideology spreads like a virus and its about time that their illness is stopped in its tracks." There was a pause as the Porcuian, again, looked directly at Muscat. "I am readying forces - true defenders of the Republic - to begin our ultimate task. We shall reclaim the Republic and re-establish our values and our superiority. However, for our mission to be successful I need all like-minded Porcuians to stand together - united against communism and socialism and the false god of progressivism. You are not native Porcuian, as many others around the world, but you are my brother and I am asking you now if you will join me and if you will take up the fight when the time comes." Muscat's heart beat quickly, he could feel it pounding against his chest. He bowed deeply and held the pose for several seconds. "Yes!" he finally replied as he straightened. Tricostus Caeliomontanus genuinely smiled. He nodded again and reached out to Muscat, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. "Soon history will remember the day when order and justice was restored to the Republic and she was placed on her rightful track." Tricostus Caeliomontanus then turned and slowly settled into a chair near the small bookcase along one wall. Muscat joined him, sitting in the chair opposite, before asking, "And how are we to help see this task through?" "For now, the fervor must continue to be fed. The intolerable actions of the Prefect should be the perfect rallying cry for Melita. See if you can organize marches and protests. Also, we must make Siracusa and Ariminae understand that we are serious. We should also carry out bombings and attacks." "Yes, but we do not have access to arms." "I will see to it that you and the others are provided with everything you need." "I see. May I ask how? How will I know whom to expect?" Tricostus Caeliomontanus shook his head. "No...I will inform you when the time is right and you will know everything you need then." The Porcuian took a deep drink of wine before adding, "Now, would it be possible for me to meet with someone important from this shadow government?" Muscat looked confused. "I would have to ask around, as I don't know what's happened to them. But, why? As I stated before, a large majority are leftists." "We must present a unified front, Muscat. Once we have power we will be in a position to deal with the less than desirable elements. At this time, maximum disruption is required." Muscat nodded. He quickly stated that he would call around; he had a sister who worked in the local police and a cousin, whom he considered a brother, who worked in the Prefect's office. Tricostus Caeliomontanus asked Muscat if his cousin was the Prefect's personal assistant as the latter was leaving the study momentarily, to which the answer was 'yes'. The Porcuian smiled, his teeth and lips shaped sinisterly. Tricostus Caeliomontanus waited patiently alone in the study, finishing his glass of wine and rising to take a look at the titles of the books behind him. Muscat soon returned with good news: his cousin confirmed that all members of the shadow government we being held in the Safi Detention Centre, just on the opposite side of the airport. "The President, an unmarried woman by the name of Karmela Borg, is being held separately from the others. You should be able to see her this evening when the guards change and those on duty are men that I know personally." There was a light knock on the door and the lovely face of Mrs. Joanna Muscat appeared at the entrance to the study. "Terribly sorry to disturb you. I hope I'm not interrupting, but lunch is ready." Muscat turned to Tricostus Caeliomontanus and asked if he was hungry. "Famished, actually." he replied with a smile and a sparkle in his eyes. |
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| NRE | Aug 10 2017, 04:11 PM Post #12 |
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Map Tsar and Southern Gentleman
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| Ghaselja | Sep 10 2017, 10:05 AM Post #13 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Lunch at the Muscat household had been enjoyable, if not a little overwhelming. Għaselji hospitality was known around the region as being almost oppressively accommodating and Tricostus Caeliomontanus was the latest to encounter the almost ceaseless array of food and wine at the Muscats' behest. Plates of pasta, vegetables, freshly-baked breads, and fish stew were constantly brought out from the kitchen to the dining room table as Muscat and Tricostus Caeliomontanus ate their early-afternoon meal. Not more than a few kilometres away, the members of the Għaselji shadow parliament sat in their cells, tired, hungry, and uncomfortably hot. The level of supervision under which Rizzi had placed the parliamentarians was so strict, the guards firmly believed that withholding food and water was the most appropriate means of punishment prior to their planned executions. With the exception of shadow President Borġ, the other parliamentarians and staff members were held in tiny cells that were otherwise meant for four people; presently, upwards of twenty individuals at a time were held in a single cell - tiny barred windows near the ceiling, a single toilet, and four bunkbeds without a cushion or mattress. Borġ, as the widely believed and so-called ring-leader of the shadow parliament, was held on her own in what could only be described as solitary confinement. Hers was not even a cell; rather, Borġ was held in a glorified broom closet with a single lightbulb and a small hole in the corner that quite obviously reeked of waste. The oppressive summer heat was even harsher and more suffocating away from the coast. The detention centre, being located adjoining the airport, was otherwise assaulted with the sounds of jetliners landing and taking off for other European and northern African destinations. Since the curfew and the veritable travel ban to Għaselja, the airport and the village of Luqa were still and silent, save the occasional provincial military aircraft or police helicopter taking off to patrol the islands or arrest more civilians. At 16h59 on the smaller island of Gozo amid the mid-afternoon heat and the still of the siesta, an enormous explosion ripped through the town of Nadur. The small square at the centre of the village was enveloped in smoke and dust as a cloud of smoke and flame erupted from the parish church. Slabs of limestone, slate, and wood rained down as far as several blocks away, destroying cars, homes, and killing dozens. Car alarms began to sound as gas lines exploded, the crashes of shattered glass blowing out from the church and decimating the storefronts in the square. Almost like clockwork, similar explosions began to send shockwaves across the island as churches in Qala, Xagħra, and Għasri erupted with flames and plumes of black smoke. From across the Għawdexi Channel on the main island, the small mushroom clouds billowed from flashes of light and columns of red flame as frightened Għaselji looked on in horror. |
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| Porcu | Sep 16 2017, 09:31 PM Post #14 |
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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."
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Prefect Rizzi called a halt to the official meeting over which he was presiding at the rumble of the second massive explosion. The Prefect's security team escorted Rizzi out of the Grandmaster's palace within a few minutes and once established in a secure location Prefect Rizzi and his staff began to piece together what had already occurred and what was occurring presently. The Prefect was on the telephone with the local police chief when he was interrupted by a senior staff member. All the assistant had to do was mouth the words "Governor Cotta" and Rizzi gave a curt farewell to the police chief and hung up. He took a moment before taking the telephone from his assistant. "Governor Aurelius Cotta?" Prefect Rizzi began. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Those closest to the Prefect froze in place. Their shock readily apparent. "Rizzi, do you know what I'm seeing on the TV?" Governor Aurelius Cotta asked with a tone of deathly seriousness. He continued almost immediately, cutting Rizzi off before he could speak. "I'm seeing chaos! I'm seeing panicked citizens!" "Governor, we are working frantically to..." "It's not enough, Rizzi! Fix this!" There was a loud crash as Governor Aurelius Cotta slammed down his receiver and ended the call. . . . In the provincial capital, safely away from the agitation and terror gripping Melita, Aurelius Cotta remained glued to the large television set along one wall in his office. Staff would come and go silently, dropping single-page updates on the table directly in front of where the Governor sat. A few hours after the series of explosions had rocked Melita, destroyed precious architecture, and taken innocent lives, authorities were still no closer to understanding the origins of these explosions. Moreover, large-scale demonstrations had seemingly sprung out of thin air, much as does an intense fog, but they had devolved into riots when open clashes with police began. What had begun as relatively isolated events now had taken hold over the entirety of the small islands of Melita. Aurelius Cotta continued to watch the news broadcast with undivided attention as his chief assistant came into his office and stood nearby, waiting to be acknowledged. Several seconds passed before the Governor turned and took note of his assistant. "Praetor Vibius Pansa, Governor, on line 1." The Governor stood from the couch centered in his office and walked toward his desk. He sat slowly and looked at the telephone at the corner, swallowing hard. His chief assistant stood in the middle of the office, waiting for directions, but was quickly waved out. She turned the television off before exiting, leaving Aurelius Cotta alone and still staring at the phone. He picked it up. The voice on the other end immediately made itself present. "Governor Aurelius Cotta...This is Publius Vibius Pansa." "Y-Yes, Sir. To what do I owe this call?" "Come now, Marcus Aurelius. I had spoken with your Chief of Staff and I know that you've been watching the news just like everyone else." "We are working hard here and the Melitan Prefect has begun to reign in the violence and excesses." "Well, I'm afraid that you're alone in thinking that, Governor. The Consilium has met and put forward to Parliament a list of formal charges against you, including failure to properly execute the duties of your office and false imprisonment of public officials." The Governor's jaw slackened in disbelief. There was a sudden and sharp series of knocks on the door before armed national gendarmes entered the office. Aurelius Cotta's attention refocused to the voice on the phone. "...overwhelmingly. You will be brought back to Ariminae immediately. Is that understood?" "This is...I..." the Governor stammered. Vibius Pansa continued as if he had not heard. "By the powers vested in me by the Parliament and People of Porcu, I hereby relieve you, Marcus Aurelius Cotta, of your duties and responsibilities as the Governor of the Province of Siracusa, effective immediately. I, Publius Vibius Pansa, as an elected Praetor of the Republic, take formal assumption of the title of Governor of the Province of Siracusa and all the duties and responsibilities therein." Aurelius Cotta stood from his chair and shouted into the phone, "You can't do this to me!" "I'll see you soon, Marcus Aurelius." . . . The hour was quickly growing late, but Tricostus Caeliomontanus was a patient man. He had spent much of the afternoon in the company of the Muscats and was very pleased when he was finally able to leave. He had been brought to a lovely hotel only a few minutes drive from the airport and was, still, waiting to be picked up and taken to the Safi detention center. Like many others around Europe and the world, he was attentively watching the news. His heart had raced for several minutes after he had heard the explosions ripple across the island of Gozo. He knew there would be many more similar sights and sounds, and not only across Melita but throughout every square kilometer of the Republic the world over. The explosions rang like church bells to him and the large fires he saw on the television awoke in him renewal and triumph. Sharp knocks came at the door and Tricostus Caeliomontanus moved to see who it was. Muscat was flanked by four men, three of which the Porcuian recognized from when had been picked up from the airport. It was time to move. The group moved in two large vehicles and arrived without delay. Muscat rode alongside Tricostus Caeliomontanus and allowed them to enter the detention center. "I apologize for keeping you waiting, but the explosions threw the police off. The police currently on guard were first told to relocated before being assigned, again, to the detention center. I didn't want to move you without certainty." After stepping down from the vehicle, Tricostus Caeliomontanus was led inside the detention center by two guards and they soon arrived at the "cell" of Karmela Borg. Tricostus Caeliomontanus eyed the enclosure with shock and disgust, yet there was a subtle sprinkle of admiration in his eyes. The smell of feces was almost overpowering and came at the Porcuian like an advancing wall. He cleared his throat before dismissing the guards and settling his attention on the huddled mass at his feet. "Ms. Karmela Borg." Tricostus Caeliomontanus said, his voice booming and echoing off of the walls. "You may not know who I am, so please let me introduce myself. My name is Spurius Tricostus Caeliomontanus; I am a Member of Parliament of the Republic and Chairman of the National Coalition for the Defense of the Republic." The tired Borg turned her head so as to face her visitor. "Ms Borg. I'd like you to come with me." The shadow president dropped her head at this remark and quickly solicited a soft and compelling voice from her visitor. "Oh, I assure you I am not a member of the provincial government. I'd estimate that we share a mutual disgust for Governor Aurelius Cotta and his bitch Praetor Rizzi." Borg turned again and locked eyes with Tricostus Caeliomontanus. "Come..." the Porcuian said as he stood and held simultaneously held out his hand. "You have a government to run and together we have a republic to save." |
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| Ghaselja | Sep 27 2017, 06:29 AM Post #15 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Still adjusting to the relative brightness of the ambient light surrounding Tricostus Caeliomontanus, Karmela Borġ strained her eyes and, for a few moments, did nothing more than try to understand what was going on. Since she had been arrested several days ago and been given little more to eat than a single bowl of gruel a day, Borġ was weak and was unsure as to whether she could trust the Porcuian official standing before her. In spite of her apprehension, Borġ was less concerned with whom she could trust and desired nothing more than to leave the horrid cell in which she had been kept. With all her might and desire to live, Karmela Borġ reached out for Tricostus Caeliomontanus' hand and pulled herself off the rancid floor. Trying to hide a slight limp due to being thrown into her cell so many days ago, Borġ walked alongside Tricostus Caeliomontanus in silence until the two began passing her colleagues' larger cells. Mustering her strength to speak, the first time since her arrest, Borġ stopped walking, turned towards Tricostus Caeliomontanus and inquired, "What is it you want from me? What can I, we, my peers and I, do when we're here awaiting our trial?" Oblivious to the events unfolding across the islands and the rest of the Republic, the late summer sunlight streaming in from the windows of the multi-prisoner cells incensed Borġ and what seemed like mere memories - her partner, her cats, her home, her neighbourhood, what used to be her country - came flooding back. The imposing Porcuian man standing before her did not seem like the other officials Borġ had met throughout her tenuous career as a shadow parliamentarian. During the transition four years ago, the Porcuians who flooded her islands to replace her seemed above it all, elitist, snobbish. Borġ felt that invading Porcuian bureaucrats believed the native Għaselji were nothing more than cheap labourers and ignorant tribespeople in the furthest-flung part of Europe. This Porcuian, this Spurius Tricostus Caeliomontanus, was different, though. He moved with the grace of a nobleman but spoke with the reassuring voice of a commoner - a quality that, in spite her recent trauma, led Borġ to believe that Tricostus Caeliomontanus could be trusted. "Sir, what can we do?" |
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| Brendan1903 | Oct 11 2017, 03:57 PM Post #16 |
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Recruit
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As the British (Alternate Scenario, see Langstadt on Nation States fact book for details) have heavy Romance cultural influence, along with Language similarities, we would be glad to accept refugees from Malta, see the Office of Immigration in Langstadt. |
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| Ghaselja | Oct 12 2017, 01:42 AM Post #17 |
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Resident nomad and cat aficionado
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Walking defiantly down the street in Langstadt on a drizzly fall day, a small group of ethnic Għaselji expatriates and legal migrant workers carried with them a binder of reports, demographics, and a recently approved official non-governmental organization registration form. The group's members were wearing buttons saying, "Għaselji Independence Now!" and had small makeshift Għaselji flags pinned to the lapels of their coats. Walking just ahead of the group of about fifteen, an ethnic Għaselji immigration lawyer named Ruth Busuttil felt a swirling combination of uncertainty, compassion, and strength. Leading the group to the British Office of Immigration, Busuttil mentally prepared her statements before entering the government building. She was the group's leader, spokeswoman, and organizer, after all. The British Office of Immigration was a beautiful building unto itself but the interior foyer and reception desk bespoke bureaucratic indifference to aesthetics. Standing to greet the group entering the Office's main doors, the receptionist greeted Busuttil and inquired as to the group's presence. "Yes, hello. My name is Ruth Busuttil and I represent Għaselji Independence Now. We have a meeting with the Deputy Minister at ten o'clock." |
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| Porcu | Oct 15 2017, 10:50 PM Post #18 |
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"Work is the curse of the drinking classes."
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Tricostus Caeliomontanus smiled. "You can finally do what you've been wanting to do for some time: lead your people and your country, Ghaselja." Borg was stunned. It was the first time she had heard a Porcuian of any standing say that name. With his prey right where he wanted her to be, Tricostus Caeliomontanus stepped forward and out toward a waiting car, leading Borg with a gentle hand on her shoulder. As the Ghaselji shadow president stepped into the car, the Porcuian stated to a nearby detention guard that those prisoners belonging to the shadow parliament were to be immediately released. Whether or not they returned home was their choice, but they should expect being summoned within 24 hours. The guard nodded in acknowledgement and shut the car door behind the Porcuian as he slide in next to Borg. The smell was vile, but Tricostus Caeliomontanus was no prude. "I understand that you may wish to go home, but I'm afraid that I must detain you for a little bit so that I can properly explain the events you will shortly learn of." the Porcuian began. Borg looked attentively at Tricostus Caeliomontanus and waited for him to continue. However, before he did, he reassured her that her partner was safe at home. "I've made available a room at the hotel where I'm staying, and if you would like your partner to meet you there I can have that arranged. Now, you will hear of terrible things going on throughout the Republic. All of it is true. You are now a witness to the rebirth of the Republic, Ms. Borg, but soon you will have a greater role to play than a mere witness. I cannot pretend to guarantee anything at this moment, but rest assured that once Ariminae is cleansed and a government representing the true interests of the people is installed that Ghaselja will breath free once again." Tricostus Caeliomontanus then looked Borg straight in the eyes and she saw a flicker of something she had not seen before. "For that to happen, Ms. Borg, the Republic needs you to support its rightful cause. I pray that Ghaselja is not beset by enemies, but should she be I need to know that you and your countrymen and women will fight tooth and nail." Karmela Borg opened her mouth to speak but was immediately interrupted. "You do not need to answer now. Take some time to rest before discussing matters with your parliament. Convene them when you are ready." The car came to a stop in front of the hotel where Tricostus Caeliomontanus had stayed. Borg exited and walked forward a few paces before realizing that she was alone. She turned and saw the Porcuian had remained in the car. "I'm afraid that we must part ways for the time being." Tricostus Caeliomontanus said, feigning sadness. "Don't worry, everything has been taken care of, Ms. Borg. We'll be in touch soon." The car accelerated away from the hotel entrance, leaving Borg standing alone in her filthy and soiled clothes. An attendant came out to greet Borg and hesitated to speak at first because of the stench of the president's clothes. The attendant handed over a keycard to the room set aside for Borg and informed the Ghaselji president that her partner would be brought to the hotel if she desired. "I'd rather like to go home actually." Borg replied. "Would it be possible for me to be given a lift?" The attendant shook her head. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Your safety at this critical time is of the utmost importance to the Honorable Tricostus Caeliomontanus. The most that can be done is to arrange for your partner to meet you here." Some time later, after having taken the longest shower of her life, Borg stood at the large windows of her hotel room and gazed out at the dark horizon. She could still spot fires burning in the distance and heard the rattling of gunshots. She had been immensely curious as to the devolving situation throughout the Republic, but her tolerance for the graphic images of war had been quickly reached. There was a sudden knock at the door and Borg's eyes radiated a brilliant sparkle when her partner's face came into view. "The hotel staff told me that you would need a few changes of clothes, so I grabbed a few things. I hope you don't mind." |
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11:33 AM Jul 13