Governor: 
The Eternal Empire of New Imperial Britannia
WA Delegate (non-executive): 
The Königreich of The Ruby Ranch Republic (elected )
Founder: Awf governance committee
Last WA Update:
Embassies: Valentine Day, The United Empires of Carson, Urana Firma, The Chuckle Playground of Fun and Games, Gypsy Lands, Fredonia, The Monarchy alliance, Greater Middle East, Teremara, and Regionless.
Tags: Anarchist, Anime, Anti-Communist, Anti-Fascist, Democratic, Isolationist, Medium, Offsite Chat, Religious, Role Player, and Serious.
Regional Power: Moderate
Azure Watester Federation contains 17 nations, the 1,131st most in the world.
Today's World Census Report
The Most Advanced Public Education in Azure Watester Federation
Fresh-faced World Census agents infiltrated schools with varying degrees of success in order to determine which nations had the most widespread, well-funded, and advanced public education programs.
As a region, Azure Watester Federation is ranked 1,663rd in the world for Most Advanced Public Education.
 | Nation | WA Category | Motto | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1. |  The Legionary state of Jamstown | Father Knows Best State | “Through Victory my chains are Broken.” | |
| 2. |  The Imperial State of Castelia | Benevolent Dictatorship | “It's a sea of smiles in which we'd be glad to drown.” | |
| 3. | The Eternal Empire of New Imperial Britannia | Iron Fist Consumerists | “The Sun Never Sets” | |
| 4. |  The Dictatorial Kingdom of Vlamms Statt | Iron Fist Consumerists | “Spirit and Discipline” | |
| 5. | The Königreich of The Ruby Ranch Republic | Iron Fist Consumerists | “Welcome to where time stands still” | |
| 6. |  The Empire of World Empire | Psychotic Dictatorship | “Kneel Before The Emperor” | |
| 7. |  The Empire of The Castelian Federation | Iron Fist Consumerists | “Glory to God, Strength to the Federation!” | |
| 8. |  The Million MAGA of The Legation Provinces | Iron Fist Consumerists | “Refill Your Popcorn” | |
| 9. |  The United States of The Second American Union | Moralistic Democracy | “E Pluribus Unum” | |
| 10. |  The Deutsches Kaiserreich of Zentralreich | Corporate Police State | “Mit Gott und Kaiser Marschieren Wir” |
12»
Regional Happenings
- :
The Eternal Empire of New Imperial Britannia updated the World Factbook entry.
- : The Eternal Empire of New Imperial Britannia updated the World Factbook entry.
- :
The Liberationist Republic of Iridyia arrived from Lazarus.
- : The Liberationist Republic of Iridyia ceased to exist.
- : The 1st indian federation ceased to exist.
- :
The Sultanate of The United Arabian Emirates arrived from Balder.
- : The Sultanate of The United Arabian Emirates ceased to exist.
- :
The Greatest Doge Embassy Empire of Peoples of Waskar of the region True Waskaria proposed constructing embassies.
- :
The Lands of Sweden Kard of the region Guinea Kiribati proposed constructing embassies.
- :
The Glorious Dispatch Office of AWF Dispatch Office II arrived from Balder.
Azure Watester Federation Regional Message Board
Loading...Hammer and Anvil
---
Department of War
The Filipino defense was beginning to crumble. For the better part of three years, the Federation had exchanged blows with the Philippine Republic, yet neither side had managed to strike a decisive blow against the other. But as the momentum of the war had continued to shift in Castel’s favor, it would be their breakthrough at Appari which would finally see Kastel fully regain the initiative against Manila. Soon after the Philippine army’s route from Appari, the Castelians would press their advantage, and relentlessly pursued the Philippine army further down the Cagayan river until the two opposing forces eventually met at the city of Ilagan. They stood no chance. Leveraging their supremacy in the skies, the Castelian air force began relentlessly bombing the city, killing thousands and grinding a once sprawling city into dust. Yet even after the bombing ceased, the Filipino defenders would receive no respite---they simply traded one hell for another: just as the ceaseless bombing began to wind down, the Filipinnos were faced with the ear-shattering roar of over a dozen howitzers. The army, once numbering in the thousands, was reduced to only a few hundred against the thousands of Castelians and their auxiliaries besieging the city. The city’s defenders would be subsequently slaughtered in the following engagement, annihilating the northern Filipino army and opening the route to Manila. To the west, the Castelian High Command, seeking to capitalize on the Philippine's faltering war effort, authorized one final assault against the symbol of Filipino resistance against the Castelian onslaught: San Fernando. Yet their intention wasn’t to take the city. In what could only be described as one of the largest bombings of a civilian target in recorded history, using a mix of explosive and incendiary ordinance, the Castelian air force would mercilessly bomb a city of one hundred and twenty five thousand into the ground. By the time the Castelians had pulled back to their bases in the South China Sea, San Fernando had been reduced to a burning pile of rubble, and any who had remained in the city were now just charred corpses. Emboldened by the inland successes of the Combined Army, the Kriegsmarine would also resume their forays into Filipino territory, yet with a markedly different approach; rather than face the asymmetric tactics of the Philippine navy head on, the Castelians would leverage their numbers and strangle their logistics. The gamble worked, and the Filipinos increasingly found themselves unable to counter what was a front-wide assault against their ability to supply their defense against the Castelian army.
The steel gauntlet of the Castelian Federation continues to tighten its grip over the Philippines. If it not broken soon, it may spell the end for the Philippine Republic.
For the Empire!
The end of the incompetence.
—---------------------
Molly Richardson's office:
“It.... it failed again…” Realizing her latest attack failed, Richardson realized she had no hope of retaining her current position. I have to flee the country! Lord Amon, no Nixon will surely torture me for what I have done! Sigh. There is still time, If I head straight for Canada, then Nixon will have no way of getting to me. Suddenly a pounding could be heard on the door. Who could that be, dId Nixon already send his men? Impossible, he shouldn't yet know of our defeat. With that the door is promptly kicked open, and two large men swiftly barge in. I have to keep appearances. “How dare you come into my office unannounced!” The two men pay no heed to her complaints and quickly knock her out.
As Richardson slowly begins to regain consciousness she hears an unfamiliar voice.
“Hello, Molly.” The mysterious man states in a cold callous tone.
The mysterious man suddenly queues one of his guards, to inject Richardson with a dose of modified Opioids.
“If you're wondering what that drug does, it will cause you to experience Hyperalgesia.” The man calmly states.
“Who are you and why have you brought me here?” Richardson screeches, before noticing she's tied up.
“Oh I forgot how much I hated her annoying voice, gag her up.” The mysterious man orders. “As for your question, you already know who I am, you were a committee head after all, of course, it's no surprise that you don't know what I look like, given I've never released any files on myself.”
Dear god, to know all of that can only mean one thing, this man is… Nixon. How has he found me? He should not even know about the defeat yet!
Sigh, “you committee heads always overestimate your worth, but in reality you are nothing”
With this Amon pulls out his personal crowbar. “Tell me, do you know what I hate most of all? It's quite simple, I hate wasting American resources. That said wasting resources has been the only thing you have done this entire war. We have lost countless human resources during this war, because of your foolish strategies. I even tried to rectify your mistakes by taking command, but you… You could not even follow my orders. But do not worry, I will send your replacement to handle the war, but before any of that tell me which hurts more when I swing from the left or the right?”
—---------------------
Mexico war front:
The Americans continue their bombardment of Mexico City. Utilizing a bomber, the Americans yet again failed to bomb the city. Following this The Americans utilized a superb yet efficient strategy to take on the city in one push. Yet the Mexicans managed to counter it, leaving the battle as a total draw neither side could gain any ground on the other. The Mexicans struggled with all their might and just managed to keep the American military out of their city. The Mexicans took this as a sign, they knew the end was near, and yet they kept fighting.
—---------------------
California war front:
California's war front only continued to shift in the Americans' favor. Starting with a massive air strike, the Americans paved their way through the terrain of California. The Americans continued to march through the territory, proceeding to conquer more and more land. San fransico has already fallen to their might, but that was not the end. For The Americans, the next target was San Jose. While it may not be nearly as large as San Francisco, it still had its value. This war will end soon, there is no doubt about it.
-For Democracy!!!!!
—---------------------
The Final Curtain
—---------------------
Nixon's Lair:
I've had my fun with Molly, but if I go any further she may be permanently damaged. Now then, what should I do with her? She is a valuable human resource, so there's no point in wasting her. “Ah yes I know what shall do with you.” Amon speaks fully well knowing Molly can't understand a word he's saying in the shape she's in. “Take her to the medical bay, I expect her to be chipped and patched up, then send her to work at the coal mines,” Amon says to his guards.
Now then, there's the issue of Mollys’ replacement. His name was Timothy Perez, he possessed incredible potential as a committee head. He has already proven himself an excellent strategist and as such I've put him in charge of finishing this war. The only problem is he's ill experienced and young, but this is the perfect chance for him to learn...
—---------------------
Mexico war front:
The Americans start with an air strike. It was set to target the main defensive line of Mexico city, but it was intercepted before it could land. That brief moment provided the Mexicans with The last bit of relief they would ever experience, for they didn't see the barrage of troops incoming. This time, the Mexican defenses broke, and a large quantity of troops entered the city, marching through their defenses as if they were nothing. The Mexicans had fought to protect their city for some time, and it shows through how exhausted they are. This only served to strengthen the Americans' push through the city. The Mexicans resolve, which once shined so brightly was now broken, The United States has won the war.
—---------------------
Unbridled Terror
---
Department of War
Overwhelming force against dogged defense. Starved and shattered, yet unwilling to surrender, the Philippine army continued to resist the onslaught. Nevertheless, despite their determination to repulse their Castelian invaders, they were in full retreat... Or so the Castelians thought. Believing their enemies to be broken and victory in sight, the Heer pursued the remnants of the Filipino army with rabid tenacity, rapidly outpacing their logistics as they crossed the mountains of Cordillera Central. Having taken the bait, the Philippine army sprung the trap. Drawing upon what reserves they still had, the Filipinos would finally move to check the Castelian blitz at the city of Palayan, located at the heart of the Central Luzon Plains. Thousands of Castelians soon found themselves caught between the Filipino army and the mountains, with only the plains of Luzon to provide any sort of defense. However, even despite their obvious disadvantage the Castelians would not fold so easily. While bearable, the Castelian air force continued to shell the Filipino’s position, slowing their progress against the encircled Castelian army as the latter continued to attempt a breakout. They eventually would, but not before both sides suffered staggering casualties. Fury. Following their failure to crush the remnants of the Philippine army, the Castelian High Command would order the mass bombing of Luzon. Indiscriminately, the Castelians would attack civilian and military targets alike, leveling infrastructure and causing mass panic across the island. Their bombings would kill thousands, though it could not hold a candle to the efforts of the Kriegsmarine. A country heavily reliant on food imports due to its burgeoning population, the solidification of the Castelian naval blockade after the Filipino navy’s failure to break it has resulted in the onset of hunger on the population, no doubt further exacerbated by the increasing lack of functioning infrastructure. The blockade has claimed the lives of thousands already, and Kastel has shown no signs of relenting in what can be described as a total strangulation of the country. Though they managed to hold on for now, the prospects for Manila grow increasingly grim, and only time will tell if they are able to continue to hold out.
For the Empire!
The Aftermath
—---------------------
Location: Classified:
Sitting at a large round table were four out of the six committee heads. There was Timothy Perez, Damion Alastor, Bradley McDowel, and finally Robert Jones, they ran the committees of Peace, Freedom, sustenance, and innovation respectively. That said it was quite rare for two nonetheless four committee heads to meet, then again the circumstances are also quite rare…
“Mcdowel is here we may begin the conference.” Jones proclaimed in a cold sterile tone.
“I must ask why you ordered us here? I know Lord Amon has given you a special rank because he favors you, but that does not mean you can summon us at your leisure. We are very busy, you know.” Alastor says before proceeding to place his cigarette in his mouth.
“Oh please, you know why he summoned us, we finally won that war with the Mexicans. That said, I am curious about one thing: Who is he?” Mcdowell says before casually pointing toward Perez.
“Oh, me? I'm the new head of the Committee Of Peace.” Perez says in an enthusiastic voice, not feeling intimidated by his peers.
After Perez said this, the room went silent, for the older committee heads understood that if Richardson was replaced, that could only mean she was dead. It was not as if the other committee heads cared for each other, they were just shocked one of their own died.
“I see, Interesting, so how did Richardson die?” Mcdowel trying to break the silence, asks in a nonchalant voice. Making it abundantly clear that Richardson's death didn't affect her at all.
“That..” before Perez could say anything further Jones interjects.
“That is classified, you do not need to know Richardsons fate… Anyway to get us back on track, we are here to discuss what will become of Texas and California”
“I'm sure you all have already thought of this but I'll say it anyway, Texas is rich in oil, and California is home to many minerals to which we can utilize. They also have an abundance of fertile soil, As such I believe my Committee is best suited to Handling the two states.” Mcdowel says in an enthusiastic tone due to the prospect of the new projects exciting her.
“For the most part I agree with Mcdowel, that said there is one more issue I believe we must discuss.” Jones retorts in a serious, yet blank tone.
Alastor removes his cigarette, as if to signify he was ready to talk.
“You're referring to the chipping of our new population, correct? Leave it to my Committee, we should be able to have 99% of their population completely chipped in about a year. That said, there could be an issue if any of the mexicans fled and reported about how people were changing”
“That won't be an issue, we have already tripled our border security In order to prevent their populace from running back to their home land, but even if some did get through no one would believe them. They come from a nation of Paganism worshiping Psychos with little to no credibility, Between them and us it's clear who the world will believe.” Perez responds in a humble yet persuasive tone.
“Alright then, can we consider this meeting adjourned?” Jones questions.
“Yes that seems fine with us, goodbye Jones” Mcdowel responds in an uplifting manner, most likely because she is excited to work on her new projects.
The Committee heads proceed to leave the office and head back to their respective work environments.
—---------------------
Advancement
—---------------------
Alastor sits in his office pondering the new developments of Texas and California. It has only been a few months since the committee heads held their latest conference to discuss reforms of their new territory and things have only progressed smoothly. Public protests to the American regime have slowly dissipated, and the vaccination have already taken a sizable portion of the new human resources. Not to mention the industrialization in both California and Texas has begun to expedite, leading to even more resources for the government. It was almost going perfectly. Despite this, small groups of loyalists to the previous regime have begun to form, but they stand no chance against their new masters…
It does not matter. As long as we continue to vaccinate the general population, those groups will dissipate on their own. That said, it may be a good idea to deal with this issue more efficiently… I'll have the committee of peace bring these interlopers to my Headquarters, they will serve the master. After that thought, lets out a brief smile, for he knows he is following his lord's will.
—---------------------
"Hey, it's you again." The security officer at the airport recognized the man next in the line. "Who's the unlucky guy this time?" He asked, mostly out of morbid curiosity, answered by a smile and a shake of the head from the man on the other side of the x-ray machine. The officer remembered this man... more accurately, he remembered that he'd always keep a round trip ticket for two weeks every time he showed up to the airport. Two weeks, no more, no less... when he came back, the man would be just in time to catch the latest broadcast investigating the mysterious death of some public figure in a faraway state.
He had disappeared for a while, and the officer had nearly forgotten about the man while White Rose and Chrysanthemum dueled in London. The officer had his suspicions—always the same face in person, but an ever-so-slightly different one appeared on the passport as a wholly new person, complete with a name, date of birth, and even the hospital where they were supposedly born. But it wasn't his job to care; after all, everyone here was just working for the paycheck, and the officer was no different.
The officer's hands flipped the passport open. Finding the photo page of a passport was becoming muscle memory after having worked here for the better part of twenty years, though the officer couldn't say he liked any part of his job. It was boring, repetitive, and in this man's case, likely completely futile. At least he bothers to hide his equipment, the officer thought to himself. He had seen much worse in the past, a couple of which he had to let through on the orders of the airport management—thanks to the lubricating effect of British Pounds.
The officer took a look at the name on the passport. "Welt, huh? Pretty unique name, I'd say." He handed the passport back to the waiting man. "Safe travels," the officer added—company policy and all. "And good luck," he murmured.
Rainfall took the passport. "Thanks," He said as he moved through the metal detector, "But this isn't for work. It's a personal trip. What happened in London's caught the attention of the higher-ups," Rainfall smiled as he gestured to the ceiling, "I've got to lay low, go into retirement again. Besides, I've already made enough, I think."
As he walked down the hallway, past myriad duty-free shops and airport gates, Rainfall recalled the start of his professional career. It was on a walkway just like the one he was on now—maybe a little narrower, dimmer, shorter, but it was the place where his dreams began. The first contract, who was it for? Where was the target?
Who did he kill?
Too many was the answer to the last question, too many bigshots to remember every last one. The sniper shook those thoughts out of his head—he was here to relax, damn it! Not think about work again!
Finally, the sniper arrived at his destination. Gate 37A, just as it had read on his ticket—economy, as usual. Everything was almost the same as the last time he was here, and yet, so much had changed.
----------
The sniper held a map of Berlin in his hands, watching the pedestrians pass by as he made a mental plan of sightseeing locations. A few shot him a strange glance as his eyes darted between the map he was holding and the buildings along the street—an unfortunate habit of his professional career, but one that he didn't mind, most of the time. The sniper was here to relax, that much was true, but the first thing he had found out stepping off the plane to Berlin was that old habits do die hard. Especially for someone as shell-shocked as he was, relaxing was perhaps a luxury he could no longer afford. Still, the sniper reminded himself that Berlin wasn't London, nor was it Normandy—he was neither an assassin on a mission nor a soldier, but a tourist.
And tourists don't need to check for enemy snipers...
The sniper reached to his side as he got up to leave. His hand was looking for the rifle case that had accompanied him across the world—but it wasn't with him. Of course it wasn't, smuggling a sniper rifle through German border security would have been difficult even before the sniper's semi-retirement, and impossible for him now. He had parted ways with his weapon on his way to the airport—it needed to be repaired after that encounter with the White Rose sniper in London, and was probably in a gunsmith's workshop at this very moment.
The sniper stood up, taking in the view of the traditional Berlin streets. It was a far different view than either the dilapidated outer edges of the metropole that the sniper grew up in, or the sprawling city center that never seemed to sleep. Through civil war, reconstruction, and urbanization, most of what had made the old Great Britain had been gradually torn down and replaced with concrete high-rises and skyscrapers—hardly anything was left of the old days, everything seemed to be sprinting at their fastest pace to the future.
Putting his map back into his backpack, the sniper got up to leave. A long day of sightseeing was ahead of him, and then—off to the next stop.
Just like before, just like nothing had ever changed.
Never a peaceful day, huh... you were right, after all.
The sniper remembered that even he had a mentor once. Back when he left the Army, he went back to drifing around the country—until he ended up in Hong Kong. His mentor was a strange character, even by the standards of that city and its traditions--he took contracts entirely out of his own will and never played nice with the local gangs. It served him well, in the end--the old traditions that every Hong Kong native clung to ended up being their downfall as the Far Eastern Branch of the White Rose swooped in to claim free real estate. It had since been a decade between now and when he left the city for London again, and...
The sniper looked up from his page in surprise. Somehow, even he had not noticed the well-dressed man now sitting beside him, holding an envelope and wearing a professional smile that the sniper had seen far too many times. Noticing the sniper's attention, the man stood, bowed, and held out the envelope.
"Mr. Rainfall. My master would like to see you," the man said in a measured tone, "he says he has important business to discuss."
The once silent hallway echoed with the sound of clapping. Even with the doors to the Senate chamber shut, Aristotle could still hear the clapping. It was almost as if everyone in that room was clapping for his sister's speech, all the parties in that chamber coming together to celebrate her. He scoffed at the idea and took another swig from his flask. Being the son of the king had its benefits, and getting alcohol into the state building was one that Aristotle couldn’t say no to. The clapping slowly came to a stop as Aris breathed a sigh of relief, his ears could finally rest.
He didn’t even want to come here in the first place. Even stepping into the building gave him bad memories of boredom and self-perceived punishments, but he wasn’t going to refuse his mother when she asked him to pick Erissa up. Seemed her original ride had to cancel and she had places to be tonight.
“I’m a glorified valet tonight it seems.” He thought as he took another drink from his flask. He was supposed to be on summer holiday, but this year it didn’t feel like a holiday. Constantly being forced to do jobs for his family wasn’t his idea of spending summer back home, but what else was he supposed to do, laze about back at the palace and do nothing? Being an errand boy for his family had its benefits, he was able to do something with his time and driving around the city was nice, but sooner than later it might drive him mad.
The door next to him slowly opened as Aris clumsily attempted to hide the flask within his suit jacket. A few drops of alcohol fell on his shirt as he put the flask in the inside pocket of the jacket. He hurriedly buttoned up the jacket, as the senators started pouring out of the doorway. He put his head down, not wanting to be recognized. After a few minutes, he felt his hair being ruffled. He looked up and saw his sister looking down at him, flashing a slight smile. Aris gave an embarrassed chuckle, as he stood up to hug his sister.
“You know, I went to your room to say goodbye before I went to work, but you were out like a light. At 11:30.” She said, punching his shoulder. He shrugged, as they started walking down the hallway to Erissas office.
“I didn’t know that 11:30 counted as sleeping in late.” He replied, giving a smug smirk. He didn’t remember last night, but he did remember waking up at midday with a splitting headache. Erissa scoffed, as he saw her roll her eyes out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled to himself again.
“If I remember correctly, Dad told you to be out of the palace by 10. Then immediately you raided the bar.” She wasn’t smiling anymore, as Aris started to get tense. Seemed that she wasn’t oblivious to his drinking like his father was. He held his head down the rest of the way until Erissa stopped at one of the many doors that lined the outside of the state building. The gold nameplate on the door read Erissas name as she took out a key and unlocked the door.
“Alright, I have to organize some documents and take them home, it won’t take long. Then you have to drive me to my date afterwards. You got it?” She asked directly to Aris. He sighed and nodded begrudgingly. She gave a smile, as she closed the office door behind her. Aris put one of his hands behind his head, as he walked back and forth in front of his sister's office, not knowing what to do.
“You know people are going to find you suspicious, Prince Aristotle.” A voice seemingly coming from nowhere boomed from behind Aris. Aris jumped a bit and turned around. As if he came out of thin air, walked a man with a fine purple suit, purple tinted sunglasses and a wooden cane. As he approached Aristotle he swept what looked like charred ash off of his suit jacket. The man smiled and extended his hand to Aristotle, as the relieved prince shook his hand.
“Director Hilfer.” Aris replied as he shook the hands of Jean-Pierre Hilfer. He was shocked to see the chief intelligence officer here, especially after a random Senate session. His father had always said Hilfer was forever preoccupied with running intelligence services to visit the senate, but here he was, in the flesh. Aris hadn’t seen Hilfer in almost three years, ever since he left to study abroad.
“How have you been my boy? School treating you well?” Hilfer asked. Aris gave a shrug, he was doing fine in school, but he wasn’t enjoying it. Thinking it would be some grand adventure was wishful thinking on his part. It was study session after study session, neverending reading, and even though he went to parties, he never had fun, usually drinking himself to sleep by the end of the night.
“Fine, I guess.” He said after a few awkward seconds. Hilfer chuckled to himself and shook his head. He seemed to notice something. He raised his cane and touched the slight bump in his suit jacket, where his flask was. The intelligence director raised his eyebrow, as Aris sighed and took the flask out of the inside of his suit jacket. Hilfer gave a look of disappointment, as he put his cane down.
“You know that’s bad for you right?” Hilfer asked, slightly mockingly as Aris looked down on the floor. He hadn’t been caught with the flask yet by his family, but somehow being caught by Hilfer made him feel even more ashamed. At least his family kind of knows he has a problem, but someone who’s not in the family made this discovery much more embarrassing.
“What is happening kid?” Hilfer asked, as Aris gave another deep sigh.
“I feel like I’m not going anywhere. I’m in school, but I don’t know what I want to do with my life. My fear is that… I’m going to be a failure, like I was when my father tried to groom me for rule. I’m stuck and I don’t know where to go.” Aris crossed his arms and tried to look away. Nobody had confronted him about his problems, but it seemed like he was anticipating someone talking about it. Hilfer noticed how Aris seemed to have a response already figured out, he was just waiting for someone to confront him. Hilfer gave a slight nod, as he looked down and back up at Aris.
“I understand. I was a bit younger than you when I felt that way. My parents were very secretive, and I didn’t feel close with them. But then I found purpose. When I came of age, my parents gave me a purpose that I could direct my life towards and slowly, but surely, that feeling of being in a rut and being stuck emotionally went away. You said that you don’t know what you want to do with your life, and that has to be rectified.” Hilfer hands Aris a card. Aris takes the card and looks at it. He looks back up at Hilfer.
“Thanks.”
“Come to me after you graduate, then we’ll talk.” Hilfer says, as he walks away. After he walked around the corner, Aris could smell a slight burning, but shrugged it off.
After a few minutes, Erissa came out from the office with documents in her hand, seeing Aris stare blankly down the hall. She snaps, as Aris jumps.
“You ready to get going?” She asked. He nodded as she walked past him. He took another look at the card, as he started to follow behind his sister.
Arriving at the white house with an air prestige, Halifax exits his Motorcade. It has been quite some time since the Americans had reached out to the British, but this opportunity will prove advantageous toward both nations. That said, not fully trusting the Americans, Hailfax keeps his guard up.
In his mind, Halifax reminded himself of his task today, as the old man had done countless times throughout his career. Give the Americans industrial aid for a favourable trade deal, try to break open their insulated market--he was sure he could do the first, but everything he had seen on his way to the White House raised doubts in his mind about the second. Still, the old man wanted to give it all a try.
Waiting directly Infront of the white house were 2 escorts, no doubt their to make Halifax feel secured. They proceeded to guide him to the Ambersons office.
"Hello, you must the British representee. If I'm not mistaken your name is Hailfax. we have been expecting your for some time. Would you mind taking a seat?" Speaking in a calm charming voice, Amberson motions towards a prestigious leather chair.
"Of course not, Mr. Amberson." Halifax replied as he took his seat, "Let's get straight into business. Your government wishes for a trade deal between the United States and Britannia--am I correct?"
“Yes that is correct, we would like to trade raw materials, in exchange for the industrialization of our nation.”
"Hm. While we can certainly provide industrial assistance, and indeed I do believe that many a British company would be willing to build industrial infrastructure in the United States, for all parties' sake I need to ask--which kinds of raw materials do you have in mind, Mr. Amberson?"
“A prime resource for trade would be oil, though specific quantities would of course vary”
"Of course. If the Americans are willing to offer oil at a reduced price, of course in exchange for increased funding to the American industrialization programme, I believe that would be beneficial to both parties. A win-win arrangement, don't you think?"
“Yes that seems like a fair agreement, we as a nation have no qualms.”
"Then of course, neither would I. However, Mr. Amberson, I have one more proposal to ask of you. Would you be willing to open up the American market to British products? It's my understanding that the American market is made up primarily of domestic production--if, say, the American tariffs on British consumer goods were lowered even slightly, I'm sure British funds and investors would be very willing to accelerate the industrialization process even further."
“That seems like a fair proposal, if it will accelerate are plans then we have no qualms.”
Amberson reaches into his hard desks drawer and pulls out a neatly stacked packet.
“Ive had this contract prepared a head of time, all you have to do is sign it”
"Very well, then, Mr. Amberson." Halifax withdrew a pen from his pocket and signed on the contract, "Pleasure doing business with you."
NotAnEmpire for co-writing this with me!So... why did he come back here?
The sniper asked himself as he braced for the landing into the Hong Kong International Airport. The cityscape was beautiful from the air, full of neon lights and streaked with the headlights of passing cars, but the sniper knew what hid beneath this outer shell--rather, anyone who had the displeasure of living there would know. Under the shell of prosperity was an unending void of criminal activity, a global hub for all kinds of disappearances, trafficking, murders... and along with it, gambling, drug use, prostitution.
If "sin city" had a name, the sniper knew, it would be Hong Kong. Too far from the Empire's heartland for its local elite to bother maintaining a clean image, yet still under the shadows of the Corporations. Those at the top of the pyramid made their killing through lucrative deals with the Big Four, pouring billions of investment funds into the ever-growing local economy and reaping profits several times their principal. These elites--many of them tied to the Hong kong underworld--owned the city. What they couldn't get out of the local population through legal extortion, the underworlders were always happy to serve up on a silver platter--the sniper knew this better than most. His career started with doing the dirty work of a local mob boss, and as he looked over the letter in his hands again, the sniper silently hoped that he wouldn't have to go back to that.
----------
The owner of Hong Kong. The "two-faced". The man sitting at the poker table was unexpectedly young for his status, but in truth, he owned not just the casino and the tower it was built on, but the entire Underworld of the city. The director of the White Rose in Asia--a separate department set up for its distance from the Isles--managed to escape mostly unscathed from the incident in London, continuing their regular operations of running the Asian Jewel from the shadows. Across from him, in turn, was a PolyTech representative, the owner of world-renowned Hong Kong Airlines, and the Lieutenant Governor of Hong Kong. They defined the British elite--an emissary of the Big Four, the owner of a critical service, a high-ranking government official... and someone who could, at a moment's notice, call them to the table, or anywhere else. In the city, the man knew, he alone was king. Not by his own merit, nor his predecessor's, but by the unique position of Hong Kong in the Empire. The city was critically important for maintaining trade in Asia, it was the Empire's foothold in the South China Sea--it was a highly independent Crown Dependency, where the forces of the Government, the Corporations, and the Underworld struck perfect equilibrium. In short, Hong Kong was a reflection of the Empire at large, unstable at first glance but in dynamic harmony over time--perhaps the three sides' only aligned interest was maintaining the status quo, and for people like him, it worked.
The man waited for the players to play their hand. One by one, they pushed their chips into the middle, and waited for the man to take his turn.
"All in," he proclaimed as he pushed his own stack of chips forwards. His gaze swept across the other players, who unanimously looked away, seemingly afraid of locking eyes with the man dressed in a plain black suit and red tie.
The PolyTech representative shook his head and threw down his cards. "Come on now, Liu. You know we can't get anywhere if this is all you do every time we play." Looking around, he sighed. "I fold."
The man smiled. "By your own will, of course. I didn't force you do do anything, right?" His eyes turned to a bouncer now by his side. "What now? I've got important business with these folks."
"Sir, there's a... strange man outside, waiting for you to see him. He gave me this to show to you..." The bouncer held out a small card, with the word Rainfall printed on one side. "Should we kick him out? He doesn't--"
"No, of course not!" The man snapped. "He is an honoured guest. Please, bring him over. We've got important business to discuss."
"No need, I'm already here." A calm voice rang out from behind. "You wanted to see me? Here I am. Speak up."
"Of course, my friend. But not here," the man replied, still facing the other players, "Give me a second, and we shall go somewhere more... discreet. My apologies, friends, but I've got something more urgent to deal with. Surely you all understand?"
A few grunts and nods was his response.
The man laughed and waved his hand. "I'll take my leave. Come, honoured guest, we've got important matters to talk about."
----------
Above the casino was the man's private meeting room. With a gesture of the hand, he invited the sniper to sit beside him, as his assistant—a woman he introduced as Chen Xueyue—brought cups of water and a small folder to the table.
"Greetings, Mr. Rainfall," the man spoke in a composed tone, "My name is Liu Wenyi. As you might've seen, this tower—more broadly, this city—is my property."
"Oh? I'd have thought the British possession would have been owned by the British Crown."
"It makes no difference, Mr. Rainfall. I am an agent of the British Crown as much as I am the Director of the Asian Branch of the White Rose, if you don't believe me, I can show you my official documentation as the Chief Security Officer of Hong Kong. Besides, Mr. Rainfall, you surely know better than I do who really runs the country—only under 'their' permission does this arrangement stand."
"Of course, Mr. Liu. But I'm sure you didn't call me over just to remind me that the British Empire is run by corrupt corporate bureaucrats, hm?"
"Of course not, Mr. Rainfall. I set this meeting up because I've got a deal to propose to you—but before I tell you the details, I think it's for the benefit of both of us if I give a short history lesson first. As you might be aware, this city—and the other ten along the Chinese coast—are territories that have been stolen from the Chinese people over two hundred years ago. As a member of the Chinese race—and as someone with such power in Hong Kong—I fell a certain responsibility to right this wrong, however I can."
"So? What does that have to do with me, 'Owner of Hong Kong'?"
"Simply speaking, I need you to kill two people for me," the man said as he flipped open the folder, "the Governor of Hong Kong and his Lieutenant. Perhaps you already know this—there's a tradition in Hong Kong whenever someone at my status announces their retirement."
"I'm aware. Reserve a restaurant and give out free meals to anyone who shows up, then neither the underworld nor local government will pursue them any further—but wasn't it your predecessors who broke that tradition in the first place?"
"It was, but what's to say we can't bring it back? I'll invite the Governor and the Lieutenant to show up with me on the balcony of the most iconic place in all of Hong Kong. They'll have no reason to refuse, and all you need to do is pull the trigger twice from a faraway building. I'll declare a state of emergency with my position as the security officer, and once I've secured total control over the city, I'll invite the Chinese Army into Hong Kong. After that, Mr. Rainfall, as long as I live—I can guarantee that you'll always be a guest of honour here."
The sniper shook his head. "Sounds well and good, but I've got a few questions you've got to answer before I agree to anything."
"Ask away, Mr. Rainfall. I'll answer them to the best of my ability."
"Why not your own people?" The sniper stared into the man's eyes, "You're the director of the White Rose in a city run almost completely by its underworld. Don't tell me you don't have anyone else to shoot two people on a balcony."
"Because I can't trust them," the man replied, "not everyone even in my own organization is loyal enough to me. A good deal of them are blatant corporate dogs, the rest of them I can't rely on—this is treason against the Empire we're discussing, after all. If anyone decides they'd have a better future selling me out to the Ministry of National Security, it'd be over."
"And you're not afraid that I'd do the same?"
"You're a killer-for-hire and a wanted criminal, Mr. Rainfall. Your part in London has done infinitely worse for the Empire than I have by simply discussing my plans with you—you wouldn't sell me out."
"Fair enough, I suppose. Still—if you can't even trust your underlings to kill two people, how're you trusting them to take over the city for you?"
"Once I've declared a state of emergency, I'll have the city police available to me as well, staffed by those I trust a little more. After that," the man laughed, "I'll simply have them take out anyone I still don't trust, and the rest will be whipped into shape."
"You're a madman, you know? Genuinely."
The man smiled. "I don't think you can say that, Mr. Rainfall, with your part in razing London in mind. Still, I've always believed that the only path to success is to abandon all rationality—only then can we truly focus on what needs to be done. Caution can only lead to stagnation, and that always means defeat."
"But sometimes, caution can save your life."
"Perhaps, but I don't have the time for that. I'm getting old, Mr. Rainfall. Everyone still loyal to their ancestry is getting old—while I'm fortunate enough not to have been born in a Castelian concession, my generation doesn't have much time left. This may be my last chance—the Chinese people's last chance."
"And you're not afraid that the Chinese people will simply hand Hong Kong back to the Empire on a silver platter? Occupying Hong Kong is akin to a declaration of war, after all. Even setting aside the possibility of China defeating the Empire and all its allies in the Castelians and Germans, what if they bow to international pressure first?"
"Then, Mr. Rainfall, they would not be worthy of my aid in the first place. I can only help up those who have enough backbone to stand—if the Republic of China has degenerated to the point where they've forgotten where their independence came from, if they do not have even the courage to die standing, then maybe they do not deserve the return of the concessions at all."
"Well if you put it like that, Mr. Liu... I'm not sure I have any choice but to agree to work with you. Certainly I'm sure you wouldn't let me leave now if I tried, would you?"
"To be honest, Mr. Rainfall, I wouldn't—but I'm glad it hasn't come to that," the man laughed, "I'm sure it'll be a pleasure working with you. Good luck to us all—we'll need it."
Advertisement
