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Conservatives Nominate President, Vice-Presidential Candidates

After a few days of caucusing, the most dragged out Convention in Party History, the Conservatives finally nominated the candidates to serve as a representation of the party, ballot 3:

1. Garrett Walker: 236 Delegates
2. Mark Tarkin: 169 Delegates

President Walker went on to give his acceptance speech: "I want to thank all the candidates in shaping the party platform for our upcoming victory in November 2644. My Second Administration will be one that emphasizes a strong military, we will continue to modernize our military through the National Defense Act. We will pursue an independent foreign policy that does not adhere to any one nation, and we will be an Administration that is for all Federation Citizens, not Tarkinist, not Walkerist. I pledge if elected President we will have a National Unity Cabinet, one that transcends party lines or personal appeals. We will be a United Peoples Government." After his speech he declared his support for the Vice-Presidential Nomination: "I will throw in Minnesota Governor Patrick Humphrey to serve as my running-mate. During the Civil War, Humphrey was a staunch loyalist who served as an irreplaceable advisor. During this race he brought out many ideas that were put on the back-burner in the wake of the national crisis. When we are elected we will have a return to normalcy."

The Gold Ring Stock Exchange

At 5:25 this morning, the Gold Ring Stock Exchange opened for the first time in almost two years. Located in the Yubiwa Financial District of downtown Miji, the location had undergone severe restructuring, but the mechanical whir of cranes and jackhammers now became only backdrop to a growing financial scene. Brokers, bankers, accountants, and financiers lined the streets. Their newly-shined cars filled newly-constructed concrete 'shellhouses' and high-rise car parks, and as they passed through into the gates, their names were checked upon a bright yellow list. Some were old refugees, emigres from the year-long university course of Greater Istanistan and Unitedprovinceofrepublica, and some returning brokers learning their way around the new and strange technology of these new, high-tech firms. Flush with government subsidies, they spared no expense, and flat marble had become an exhausted trend. The various lottery tickets that had littered these streets days before still rustled with the wind, landing themselves into gutters and street corners. The stock market of the commons, and a wild success. It would come to be Zeikeutsyr's trio of ravens.

The lines depleted, slowly and meticulously. As scheduled, meetings were met and new employees assigned. It was not time yet. No, the new employees were tutored and assigned, their bosses introduced, and their notes from the previous training days rehearsed with a kind of giddy anticipation before unseen in the business. The old employees found new seating, paid for with extensive government bonds, some received their official and wholly-scheduled promotions, and others were introduced to the newfangled computer systems of the modern age and their various updates. Two years without a stock market - Zeikeutsyr had seen better days. Most were just happy to be back, and embraced colleagues with hugs and catch-ups, eager to spill the beans on rumours and life stories alike. It had been a very busy civil war, after all.

Then, at 7:25, all settled into position. Managers gave their final speeches, broadened their pointers across extensive diagrams, and the entire Financial District prepared to fall silent - two-hundred-and-twenty firms, the largest of twenty-four districts strewn across the greatest cities of Zephyrinja and quite literally hundreds of thousands of employees, ceased their motion. They all affixed their eyes to the same clocks, and all awaited the same time. Fingers hovered, throats swelled.

The clock struck half-past. Heads shot to desks, phones began to ring, the flagrant embellishes of a dozen typewriters were soon drowned out in a sea of sound and noise.

The Gold Ring Stock Exchange was open for business.

-

Five minutes later, the Exchange updated. Kaidōsha, Tetsugan, Jaizō, Nozai, and Sutan - collequially known as Kabushki ("The Five"), experienced an average stock increase of 400% within nothing more than five minutes as shares were rushed onto the booming markets. Millions of ready buyers raced to inflate the stock price of these major government-backed corporations, buying up libraries of shares for comparable pennies, and the newly-minted liquid capital of these companies filled the pockets of a hundred thousand happy noblemen. It was guaranteed cash, and as the unprecedented success increased, the bubble began to inflate, faster and faster - a hundred companies became five hundred, two thousand, three thousand. The lottery did not take long to sell out, the common man eager to contribute to this combined and non-speculative total economic success.

By 2PM, history had been made. The long-neglected stock market was to become a key part of Zephyri business acumen, and the wealth that now flowed into the coffers of a thousand hungry conglomerates only proved it. Traders exchanged millions a minute, stocks struggled to keep up with demand, and the greater common markets could only race to catch up. By closing at 11PM, the Zephyri GDP had temporarily increased almost 50%, made far more liquid by the presence of a legitimate and viable stock exchange. There was not a single broker in the country who did not go to bed late, pockets flush with bonuses. The economy had surpassed all expectations.

Tuesday morning came with no particular splendor, but every newspaper circulated one story: about how the Gold Ring Stock Exchange was an economic dynamo, and how the Zephyri Imperiumi was in better shape than it had ever been. Millions of new jobs, it predicted! A rebuilding accelerated by a year! A new Golden Age! If the stock exchange experiment had proven one thing, it was thus;

The Zephyri Economic Miracle was here to stay.

The Zephyri Economic Miracle

Coined by originally by Istanistani economic observers, the term has become colloquial in reference to the outstanding performance of the recently-reopened Gold Ring Stock Exchange. Supported extensively by government subsidy, it was originally planned to be no more than a quick cash grab for those struggling government-assisted noble-owned conglomerates, but was proven otherwise by both sheer speculative hype and underestimation of the raw power of Zeikeutsyr's revived economy.

Unlike old experiments, however, this cash isn't going to service the pockets of some tight-pocketed noble - no, it is to serve the boards and operating firms of a hundred different corporations and a hundred thousand different businesses. No money is to be squirreled away, but instead spent and spent and spent! New firms, new developments, new office blocks, new yachts, new ports, and new factories. This economic injection is intended to put Zeikeutsyr to work, and with several dozen trillion credits stored away in the Aumi 'War Chest', this isn't the last of this new economic plan. In a mix of state capitalism and corporatism, this new economic model shares both socialist and corporatist models of thinking, with a powerful hand placed into the economic might of several large 'Zaibutsus' (or 'corporations') that shall benchmark economic development through sheer might alone. Already, economic output is increasing massively, and heavy machinery imports have skyrocketed - various governments and their companies from across the Spur are smitten with buyer requests, as the already-uncaring government seems ill-ready to worry for the Sosseath Invasion. The Zephyri Economic Initiative appeared to have...restarted, with increased vigour and success. For most nations, the Zephyri must appear insane, and they just very well may be.

Nonetheless, the new Imperiumi marches forwards, docile and increasingly less self-centred. This new economic model has showed incredible promise, and it appears obvious that the government fully intends to continue this economic boom until 'The Great Westernistion' reaches some sort of zenith or accomplished end. Many observers and journalists are increasingly stifled, however, as the coffers and financiers of Hazhan Nahmi, the great mastermind of this project, are a tight-lipped and insensitive cabinet. Instead, observers are left at the gates to ponder and observe, speculating to no end in the morning papers and the debate halls about this mysteriously-manicured success.

The Aumi Restoration has borne fruit, and under the guidance of the new Triumvirate, Zeikeutsyr may just finally make good on those lofty goals it had promised to the galaxy at large so many years ago . . .

Union Gears for 2644 Election

Despite the ongoing Reconstruction Efforts the Union will be holding elections for 2644. The political landscape in Meridian has been drastically altered since 2642 with the Emergency Recovery Interem Parliament being comprised of an appointed board of Scientist,Engineers,Military Officals and other Experts over the more traditional career politicians that formed the previous Parliament in 2640. There's also the other mater of the Political Parties previously inhabiting Meridian basically ceasing to exist as many of there members left to form the seperatist governments in the Civil War. This has left an open playing field in Meridian Politics as many are hoping to bridge the gap with Rhoa coming out First announcing the recreation of the Central Union Party, Meridians oldest party being founded in the early 2220's. Though her family does have historic ties to the Party as Prime Minister Jannet Tells (2250-2254,2275-2350 ((yes two separate terms as Prime Minister)) was originally elected under the Central Union Party, she saw the Union trough its darkest days in 2322 during the Exodus managing not only the war but evacuating people from Al'Terra to Macrossia and managing the rebuilding of the Nation afterwards. Rhoa is going to focus on a Policy of rebuilding the Industrial Power of the Union to restore the wealth of the Union. However she faces rivalry from the Social Council Party lead by Former Chancellor the Council Republic of Meridian, the Revolutionary Government that re-intigrated. Former Chancellor Maxon is largely working off support gained trough the creation of the Labor Councils created under his administration during the civil war. So far a right based party has not emerged but its made clear that the new Central Union and Social Council Parties have similarities in reforming Meridian Society from the old order. Current Emergency Prime Minister Dr Jackson Steel has not made any Comments on if he will run but has said

"The rise of Political Parties once again shows the return to Democratic Principles and there willingness to work together so far gives me hope that no mater which side of the political spectrum they fall that this is a new Era of Meridian where it rises from the rubble of its Civil War to become a force of good"

Spain, and The "Christmas Founding"

(Sorry you guys haven't heard much from me, and I apologise if I accidentally smother The great union of meridian's post <3.)

The TGKC holds strong. The Jewel of the Spur, Terra, has had some time to get used to her presence - it must be strange. Spain had only been recently at peace, and now a unifying force has swept over the Iberian peninsula, promising glory and power to all those willing to join it. But . . . there is no malevolence, no evil or malice behind the words of the alien. Many had feared a Tribal puppet state. Was that the reason for the silence, some thought? The malevolence of the Teuton? No, for Kitsak Minxi's proclamations and actions had spoken of a great respect for the men of Spain, and his cabinet was mixed in both skill and species. Was it no power grab? Were the Zephyr instead the force of reckoning? Again, disproven.

But that does not calm fears, most rightfully so in truth. An alien state is on Terra, and most importantly, stands independent and unpredictable. This hybrid-demesne is the first of its kind, and from the goblinoids of Euskadi to the god-fearing Emirates of Cordoba, it has had disappointingly little controversy. Just over half of Spain now stands under a singular rule, in a provincial system that has proven almost the sole political debate of the year, taking a backdrop to even the racial tensions that often spark up in a Spain that has taken in nearly a million refugees and counting. The great effort, originally started by the Don Hidalgo years before, is bearing fruit in a most spectacular way. Will Spain truly stand united as it stands now?

Perhaps so.

At home, however, theories mean little. Politics are not the talk of the day, and the government is preoccupied less and less with the politics of the realm and more with the necessities. Barcelona, the decaying jewel of the Aragonese Crown, is christened with a new revival: the new twin-city of Strider, a financial and manufacturing hub, is beginning to take shape, and economic growth begins to flow as transport grows across the nation. In the Baleares, aquaculture makes a recovery, and the fishing industry has experienced a significant boom in the city of Atlas. In Cordoba, the mining industry of Seville has restarted, and the various arms plants of the old warlord days have found their work in the production of imported arms licenses from the 21 tribes, providing orders for the empire that had blessed the creation of their nation only a short while ago. Although the resources of Earth remain depleted, the technological and material capabilities of a unifying Spain can still extract from the Earth enough to fuel the great refineries and steelworks of the old Empire.

Houses rise from old construction sites, and refugees are given new homes alongside native Spaniards, caring not if neighbourhoods are mixed or old. The progress is steady, and has been steady for months, with the situation stabilising itself well. Food stocks the shelves, and the market is open once more as jobs return to the cities, once thought lost forever. Where work is not available, loans pay for the construction of new factories and the repossession of old fields, where Spanish tutors teach ex-soldiers and young students the art of the turret lathe and the tractor. Unlike in Zeikeutsyr, Spanish development is distinctively Tribal, and progresses comfortably and with significant safety. There is no grand experiment, but the nation spares no expense as it puts itself to work. Republican and Tribal aid is well-placed as the nation stitches itself back together, efficient and flexible.

☆-☆-☆-☆ A Nation, Founded ☆-☆-☆-☆

The TGKC is calm, collected, and reliably stable. Although unsolved issues bubble beneath the surface, the nation is in the good hands of the Don Hidalgo and the Warlord-General, the "New Caudillos" of a new Iberia. As connections are forged with the recently-unified Zeikeutsyr, both states operate with one another as sovereign entities, and the ignited economic depth of the Zephyri Economic Miracle may just bleed over national boundaries - but, for now, the Foreign Legion and the state their oaths are sworn to are independent and sane.

That piece of work from the Perseus Arm, the Sosseath, are another matter. The Spanish have pledged their allegiance to the UON wholly, and are willing to take up significant work to ensure that the Warfront are successful in their endeavours. This shall mostly fall to the goal of a supportive role, producing weaponry, expanding industry, and supporting any operation with auxiliaries and armies alike. The Spanish Empire is most definitely a land power, after all.

As for the humanitarian front, the Transitional Government has offered to the United Order of Nations the use of the Violet Cross, a jointly-owned medical auxiliary force that specialises in administering medical attention in battle and in the aftermath of wartime destruction. Having merged significantly with the Bread League of Zeikeutsyr, this force operates a self-contained fleet and military force, and with it possesses thousands of well-trained soldiers and medics with teeth cut from experience in the Sengoku Jidai and the Lost Years. With these actions, the international goals of Spain are met, and little is expected but a peep from the nation that somehow managed to ignore an entire Britannian mobilisation on the border. Such chill is unprecedented.

As the bell tolls, Spain is stable, and is welcome to new friends and partners. A sane leadership, sane allies, and a sane economic climb of several percentage points enough are goals met, and the TGKC is content.

(I now vomit my factbooks back at you <3. This one is about Spain. Like, ridiculously about Spain.)

Iberia, A History - Spain, the Spanish Zephyri, and the TGKC

by The Provisional Government of Zeikeutsyr

The Iberian Wars

The Lost Years

Ninety years before the modern day, the Spanish Empire stood as one unified state, encompassing all of Iberia and her Spanish neighbours. A Catholic-majority supersociety, the Iberians took pride in both on their incredible resilience and sustained eastern Mediterranean dominance, with contemporary scholars naming the nation as 'the Teutionia of the West'. It stood as both a bulwark of neo-Catholicism and a middling power of Europe, sparring with the Occitanian French, the 21 tribes, and the Panhellenic Imperium in a nascent geopolitical ring. It was the preeminent European power, most said, and stood untouchable.

In no less than a decade, however, this great empire spiraled into crisis, leading to a final and utter collapse in the middle years of the 26th century. The remnants of this once-mighty empire were left to squabble in the ashes of their ancestors, and the ruling nobility fractured themselves into barely-recognisable states as Iberia became marred by civil strife and warlordism. A power grab turned into untold human misery. The The Lost Years, as they have been named by historians, encompassed a warring states period that remarked with eerie similarity to that which would transpire in Zeikeutsyr almost a century later. Here, the states we know today as the Iberian Powers were forged: the Emirate of Cordoba, the Alaciudá, the Kingdom of Galicia, the Empire of Lusitania, and the Navocracy of Navarre to name only a few. All fought their own bloody battles, and above all else, all forged their path through warfare and exceeding brutality.

The Iberian Collapse and the succeeding Lost Years are one of the greatest disasters of the pre-modern age, the tale of an empire scattered to the wind. For years, her people suffered, and the ideals of the old state withered and died as new ideas, men, and causes took the hearts and minds of the succeeding generation, born into this great catastrophe. The once-venerated title of sovereign fell out of fashion, and as the clocked ticked on without a mighty Spain, so did the dream of Iberia. This was reality now; a dozen states, bleeding Spain dry.

But, although weathered with time, there were still some who remembered the old days, where the Spanish Crown exercised their dominion from Sicily to Porto. Where no war ravaged the peninsula, and a time when Iberia stood fine on its own two feet, free and mighty. It was widely considered that this dream would never return in short notice, and for years, Spain went untouched. Men slept, dreaming that this solemn dream was not yet dead.

The Boss

Bloody hands.

In the early 27th century, Spain was easily fifty years into anarchy. States had stabilised themselves; from the bureaucratic Emirate of Cordoba and the communal Euskadi "Basque Country" to the feudal lands of Catalonia and northern Iberia, those with the power and the will had secured for themselves their own unique and sizable fiefdoms. These lands were ruled by men simply called "Caudillos", or "Boss", and these Caudillos ruled Spain in almost ceaseless war, the size of their armies the only ideal that was required to justify their brutal rule. Mutual distrust was rampant, and the various cliques and fiefdoms of the age endlessly vied for power in an uncertain game of war as they fought and backstabbed to stay on top. Betrayal was a tool, honour optional, success was measured in casualties, and Iberia a ceaseless battlefield. The land was ruined, banditry was common, and protection was only afforded to those who paid top dollar and had faith in men in love with money. Where there was once universal law and order, there was now only the grace of vile dictators, and the endless moving borders of a nation at war with itself.

Where hope was found, one hugged it close and refused to let go. That hope came in the form of the light in the darkness, the one man who has earned himself the title of "The Boss", and through grace and grit alone became the undisputed peacemaker of the Iberian Wars. His name is Don Hidalgo Reinaldo Francisco Lupe de Zavala de Girona, The Beloved Old Hermit of Pica d'Estats, and he may be the greatest man in Spain.

The Don from Girona

Catalonia was ruled by the dons, or "nobility", a blast from the past in both their brutality and means of rule. Spain had always been a fanatically conservative little melting pot, but the Dons of Spain justified their continued existence and power by hailing their neo-Catholic gods, and pledging allegiance to a throne and holy right that no longer existed. In constant war with one another, these family feuds bore forth the greatest men of the age and the dregs of late Earth, talented thinkers and brutal warmongers. There was no rule in the nobility of Spain, only war, and war was the one thing these petty nobles absolutely excelled at.

When Reinaldo Francisco came of age, he joined the militia forces of Girona, a middling "free city" that guarded one of the only passages through the Catalonian basin and into the Aragonese Range. A strategic trading city that inherited titles from the days of the Empire, Francisco proved himself a brilliant militia commander, and soon took for himself the command of one of the few militia detachments in the city. He immediately went to work, reorganising his little force into "regiments" and quickly establishing for himself a great political and military control over the entire city. He stamped out corruption, brought back the rule of law, and most importantly reestablished a tithe system: In return for a lax monthly payment, or "Proteccion", Francisco's Commandante de la Milicia would keep the roads clean and enforce a stable set of laws (usually a punishment of the death penalty). The city soon agreed, and he was honoured with the title of "Hidalgo" by his own militias for his outstanding efforts. From here, his efforts only grew, and his skills at administration and warfare expanded until he had created a lawful and enforced state over the entirety of old Catalonia. Previously ruled only by the nobility, these old landed aristocrats bowed to the name of the Hidalgo, and were awarded gracefully for their obedience.

Hidalgo, Don of Catalonia, grew unsatisfied come 2639. Despite his incredible influence and aloofness in war, he still paid close attention to the goings-on of the Lost Years, and soon put his effort to a new plan: The Consulate at Madrid. As the only caudillo to keep both his territory and his ideals secure in this time of immense troubles, he soon came to the conclusion that he was the only one able to end the "Tiempo de guerra", or the Wartime, and enforce a stable and permanent peace. With little in his way, he would soon announce his attention, and with much persuasion, eventually received guarantees from the fifteen greatest caudillos of the age that they would meet in Madrid and, together, work out a suitable arrangement. The nation was tired of war, and through violence, many had become disillusioned to the potential outcome of an Iberia unified by it and it alone. Perhaps was the time for talks, they must have thought.

The Consulate at Madrid

Arranged by the man himself, Don Hidalgo Reinaldo Francisco Lupe de Zavala de Girona met with fifteen other caudillos in Madrid in the winter of 2639 to draft a series of points and a final agreement, hopefully to end the Lost Years once and for all. Borders were established, agreements met, and treaties signed - most importantly, the cooperation treaties. All powers were to recognise one another as equals, and most importantly, all as heirs to the Spanish Empire. There would be no more petty squabbling. Above this, the Consulates of Madrid were established, and every power in Spain agreed to varied spheres of influence, gobbling up smaller warlord states in the days to follow as they established official borders. The Caudillos were to rule over "autonomies", practically kingdoms, and were to meet as equal members in the assembly every year to discuss the future of Spain.

The "Primer acuerdo de Madrid", most importantly, declared hostilities as an invalid method of settling national issues. There would be no more war. The First Madrid Agreement was signed by all fifteen members, and the "Tiempo de guerra" was officially declared over following the international announcement. Peace had come to Iberia, and the Don Hidalgo was practically begged to take up the reigns of Don over the Assembly. He refused. Captain Lleó Llaudó, favoured in the Catalonian militias, was the Don's recommendation. This was agreed upon, and the people of Spain hailed Lleó as “Regente” of Spain. The Hidalgo, believing himself too old to rule Spain alone, instead retired to Pica d'Estats, in the Pyrenees Mountains. Here, he would live out a quiet life, growing vegetables and living in solitude with nothing more than his paintbrush and a small radio.

It was a fitting life. The man who brought a century of violence to an end and established peace across the continent now sat back, and finally relaxed.

The Wartime was over.

The Arrival

In 2642, crisis struck Zeikeutsyr. Emperor Aumi Kaishuma was murdered in cold blood by an Austrian assassin, and in the ensuing political chaos, the situation boiled over: the Zephyri Imperiumi shattered, and the nation was thrown into civil war. Their own crisis had begun, and in the bloodshed, millions fled as refugees. Many came to seek refuge on Terra, Jewel of the Spur, and hundreds of thousands found it in Unitedprovinceofrepublica, The United Lands of Ash, and the Commonwealths and Principalities. Most importantly, however, the Zephyri found refuge in the 21 tribes, and here, their endless numbers were accepted with grace and hostel. Many opened their homes to those who would otherwise sleep in shuttles or on the streets, the government spent exorbitant amounts of money on housing and operations, with Kaiser Dietrich Johann giving his own personal regards day after day. Knee-deep in a humanitarian crisis, Terra returned.

In the mire of refugee camps and logistical oversight, Warlord-General Kitsak Minxi of the Minxi-Khal Foreign Legion took it upon himself to devote his full time and resources to the humanitarian efforts of the crisis. Made rich through a wide network of corporate operations in the 21 Tribes, he reportedly splurged hundreds of millions of credits on the operation, building refugee camps and raising fleets of transport vessels and seaboats. His soldiers guarded camps and helped feed the hungry, while his own personal wealth bought the loyalty of Italian governors, who offered to supply him with the products of their coffers.

In the summer of 2641, another idea struck the young general, and he met with Kaiser Johann personally. Spain was undoubtedly mentioned, and with care and detail, Johann was convinced. Kitsak Minxi was given a blank check, and most importantly, the sacred blessing of the Kaiser of the 21 tribes.

With the Mediterranean Transport Fleet in motion, the plan set forth not even a month later. Off the shores of Catalonia and the Valencies, boats appeared, their make of Republican origin. The Zephyri were here.

A Coincidence of Wants

A delicate Spain was sent into turmoil. The Zephyri had set up a base of operations in the Balearic Islands, a land not officially acknowledged as a member of the Consulate of Madrid, and had made significant contact with the native Emirate of Cordoba and the dons of the Valencies, but the sheer scale was unprecedented. One-hundred-and-twenty-five-thousand refugees came ashore in the days following the Great Exodus, and more were on their way, departing from camps across Europe. The first few meetings were scrambled, and as the news hit the airwaves, Spain totally erupted. Some rallied to demand that these 'alien invaders' be driven into the sea, while others, mostly in the east, rallied instead to accept these "amigos morados" as fellow sapients deserving of a new home in Spain. Civil war appeared imminent.

This was, of course, before the arrival of the Don Hidalgo himself. Called from the mountains by the commotion, he quickly whipped his native court into shape, and met with these Zephyri personally. Days of meetings would persist, and camps would fill the Catalonian basin as time dragged on, but Francisco was impressed. His captains were, too: These men were not invaders, they surmised, but partners. They were potential. Their arrival provided momentum, and although the Don Hidalgo preferred not to say it, it was both useful and right. His mind was made up. There would be no substitute for what was right, and there would be no violence: the Amigos morados were here to stay. The Council of August was called to action, and in decisive motion, ruled in favour of the Don Hidalgo:

The Dons of Aragon and all their lands shall combine and absorb themselves into a new political entity alongside much of the high command of the Minxi-Khal Foreign Legion, with Warlord-General Kitsak Minxi as a military head:

The Transitional Government of the Kingdom of Catalonia, or the TGKC, was born. Terra's newest nation, and a kingdom without a king, with Captain Lleó Llaudó as "Regense" and the Don Hildago as "First Consul". History was made, for this would be the first state on Earth within the confines of modern history to be founded by an alien race. As of October 31st, it was declared so, and the Court of Catalonia and the Valencies were to meet in old Barcelona to discuss the future of this new state come November.

On December 7th, 2642, the sun rose on a new Spain.

From the morning of the 17th of November to the evening of December 7th, 2642, the Court of Catalonia and the Valencies met outside Barcelona. This was a historic debut, attended by fifty-nine human representatives, forty-seven delegated representative Zephyri, and six foreign dignitaries. The democratic assembly of an internal vote was used, and each member was given but one vote and one vote only in a blatant civil disregard for rank and file. This historic gathering codified and rationalised the disparate duchies and fiefdoms of the Aragonese Realm of Eastern Spain, secured provincial alliances, and set up a functional plan for the continuation of the Transitional Government of the Kingdom of Catalonia past initial development. In whole, it was the creation of the new state quantified, setting rules and outlining precedents to be followed in all future convenes. The Don Absoluta, Don Hidalgo of Spain, presided over these meetings as both senior and second to none. His word demanded respect, and it was given.

A mixed government was established, and through this strong mix of Zephyri and human dignitaries, the future of Spain was decided. This hybrid-demesne had withstood the test, and had not collapsed as so many others had thought (and hoped!) it would have. It did not fall victim to foreign assault, nor its own divisive politics: the Transitional Government of the Kingdom of Catalonia was here, and it was here to stay.

☆-☆-☆-☆ A Nation, Founded ☆-☆-☆-☆

Spain today certainly maintained the momentum of the "Christmas Founding". With a proclamation of sole influence over the entire Iberian peninsula, expansion has been a sole goal of this new government, from the hard-won support of the Dons of Zaragoza and Alaciudá in the first few months to the almost-immediate alliance with the Emirate of Cordoba, the majority-muslim sanctuary of learning and religious tolerance, Zephyri Spain has spread their influence over much of the Iberian peninsula, and possesses a strong arm of support from the 21 Tribes and several other Terran nations. Kaiser Johann's trust doesn't seem to be misplaced - Kitsak Minxi knows his limits, and has expressed no desire for a throwback to the middle ages as so many had feared. Instead, he champions a hybrid-demesne of human and Zephyri in union, and has made ties with plenty of nations and supports to do so.

As of early 2643, the TGKC holds sway over half of the Iberian peninsula, and is currently working for strengthened relations with the remaining kingdoms. Using the Consulate of Madrid as a launching pad, the election of a king is to come following the total unification of Iberia, and the empty regency has proven an enticing target for many who wish to join this fledgling regime. Espousing religious tolerance, great provincial autonomy, and a new economic future (proven middling following the outbreak of war with the Sosseath) in unification, it is clear that the TGKC and her successor governments will prove an interesting addition to the Pax Europa, no matter how controversial her founding may have been.

There may just be a place for Spain under the sun.

Read factbook

“Are They Going to Be There?” Sulis and Miasma Casting Doubt on Arigal’s Reassurance of Defense

Not since the sudden Manchu excursion into Sol some years ago has an aura of sheer anxiety cast over the astral Crown Dominions. With what little official – but censored – reports coming in from the government about the threat of the K2 civilization supplemented by rumors and conspiracy theories fueling the anxiety, more uneasiness has been drawn from the far off homeland on Terra and their commitment to the defense of the Crown Dominions.

“Those Earthsiders are going to leave us at the mercy of K2 at the drop of the hat,” said Sulisan Governor of New Purlieu Ethan Brody. “You don’t want to think that but that is what going to happen. They are going to abandon us, leave off to fend the xenos when they come for us.”

Foreign Minister Grayson has repeatedly reassured Sulisan and Miasman authorities that Suburbia-Purlieu would commit itself “fully and resolutely” towards the defense of the Crown Dominions. Indeed, in the weeks following the United Warfront’s victory at Jutta Taara, more than $40 billion worth of military aid has been sent from the homeland. All across Sulis and Miasma, more railgun emplacements are being emplaced around major cities and military bases while orbital defense platforms are being refitted and interdiction fields and minefields placed. The Royal Army garrisons have not been withdrawn yet, but rather are aiding with local Territorial Forces in bolstering defenses. But increasingly, it appears that this 40 billion is all that Arigal is willing to give as it now turns to the attention of its most prized possessions.

Their Terran territory of course. Sulis and Miasma must stand alone with little expectation of further aid from Arigal.

Dawn's First Light, Part 1
Unknown system, Dawnward Home, 1823 Home Mean Time (HMT)

"Protector, you cannot do this!"

Protector Cecelia Gale, Ninth of her Name and the sworn Sword of the Home class ship Dawnward Home, heedlessly forged her way through the halls. Her set jaw, strong gait and eyes alight in determination had with few exception kept most who saw her out her of path. Unfortunately, it failed to stop one John James Weston, third of the Conclave of Steadholders and first of the Council of the Sword from badgering her for the entire duration of her trek through Hall Central and the long path up to the Throne Major, her ruling seat.

"I know the games of the Council, John. You've been running them in circles for years now trying to stop me and I've had enough! I refuse to let your fear-mongering prevent what must be done!"

A checkpoint races up to meet her forceful gait, manned by guards clad in reds and browns, the colors of her personal retinue. The Armsmen neither ask nor demand, merely opening the gate for their liege-Lady and allowing her entrance into her domain, the second to last great barrier before the Throne Major. She stops, turns. Behind her stands Steadholder Weston, trailed by a colorful mix of armed men in uniform, hers and his. Her guards, but three men, had closed the gate behind their liege headless to the greater number of men before them. In moments, as the two leaders lock eyes across the the hall, the Armsmen silently divide themselves, red and brown at the gate, green and purple with their lord.

"You can't do this, Cecilia. Revenge is not worth the lives of our entire people." For a moment, a brief moment, Cecilia sags where she stands and sighs. "This isn't about revenge, John. This is about our future." Behind her a heavy mechanical thunk echoes through the corridor. A great armored door, upon whose surface stood the sigil of her house overlaid upon a relief of a giant, ponderous sphere began to move.

Her tone pleading now, for understanding and reconciliation, "We have spent years hidden away here, away from those who took our sister Home. You saw what I did, John. We've found the demons that cost us our cousin, that hounded us for so long. I'm done running, John. No more, not now."

The armored door, locks released, heavily slides open. Cecilia stands straight once more, her eyes still pleading. "We have been preparing for this moment for longer than I've been alive. I'm just the only one willing to kick it off." Cecilia turns to walk down the corridor, John's pleas following close behind her.

The armored door closes, and as Steadholder John James Weston stands locked within momentary stare down between Armsmen, the lights dim and go red. An ancient warning not heard since The Great Loss begins to cry out, echoing throughout the corridor.

Battlestations.

((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CVXWoVr9OU))

Dawn’s First Light, Part 2
Unknown system, Dawnward Home, 1825 Home Mean Time (HMT)

Protector Cecelia Gale, Ninth of her Name and the sworn Sword of the Home class ship Dawnward Home, slid into the cavernous room known as the Throne Major with nary the slightest of fanfare. Around her the dull roar of voices, low and individually quiet within the immense room, combined into the continuous background noise of conversation and synthesized audible indications within the vast chamber.

Here, inside the Throne Major, was the heart and soul of her empire. Set inside an armored room nearly 150 meters long, the Throne itself took the form of a vast pyramid of expanding levels, the final of which formed a vast U shape around a central collection of projectors and hardlight generators. Combined with displays integrated into the walls and ceiling, the projectors allowed those on the upper levels to see a vast three-dimensional map of the space around them and the state of the ship itself. Meanwhile, the projectors in the walls gave the illusion that the Throne was not, indeed, an armored room deep within an armored installation on the internal surface of a vast armored hull, but floating within space itself.

Cecelia steeled herself, acknowledging the guard directly inside the entrance to such a vital space and moving to an elevator nestled into the wall. Swiping her wrist across it, the doors slide silently open. A step to enter, then another swipe across the panel along the wall, and the doors slide shut once more. The elevator began the ascent, and Cecelia was, for a brief time, trapped within her own thoughts.

What she was about to do could be considered, at best, the ultimate sin. A Home, her home, was not a weapon, some vast engine of war able to crush foes without so much of a scoff. The warm light of the elevator’s internal lights was suddenly drowned out by color as the tube breached the surface of its layer on the trek up to the highest level. Metal became glass, and Cecelia looked out upon the projection of her domain.

A Home is not an engine of war. A Home is a colony, a vast mother, a mobile Dyson Sphere over two thousand miles across, forged around an artificial star. A Home is an entire world, the cradle of billions and the hope of her people. A Home is a massive, slow, fragile carrier of lives and ships. In her desire to become the salvation of her people, the Home lacked even the most basic of weapons. All she had were her comparatively underpowered drives, her titanic shields…
And a Leap Drive.

A Leap Drive was not like the warp drives common to the naval and civilian ships of Teronian people. A Leap Drive was massive, extremely inefficient, and hellaciously slow to charge. But a Leap Drive could take you anywhere, and the Leap Drive woven into the very beating heart of the Dawnward Home could take not just her ponderous bulk, but that of her children as well.

The elevator slowed to a stop, and with a quiet chime the doors slide open. Here, at the head of the Throne Major, the seat of the Protector’s might, one Cecelia Argos became the voice of her entire world. She, and she alone, the sole will and arbiter of her people’s future. Cecelia walked over to her command seat, too busy within her own mind to care about the extensive relief work or the holy words etched into every inch of her chair and console. Quickly and with purpose she sat, business-like and brusquely Cecelia notified the lower levels that their liege-lady was to take command of her vessel. Hitting a button on her console, the Protector began to speak.

”Notify the Steadholders that I, in accordance to the Executive Writ of the Sword, do so plan to jump our Home to the system RB-621 in six hours, the center point of the region where Intrepid Home was last detected. For decades we have allowed our fear to rule our decisions, we hid and fled when our brethren so desperately needed us. No more. We are done hiding ourselves away in the black, scuttling away from the monsters in the dark. We are done standing by and letting the desecration of our culture and people continue, to pervert the work our forbearers toiled away so desperately to allow us to live. I refuse to allow this to happen any longer. By the authority of the Sword, I do so demand the aid of all Steadholders in my domain to fight these demons, defend our Home, and the Homes of others yet found. Send out the notification of condition one to all ships and Steading governments. As of this moment, we are at war.”

The lights dim, and the warm yellow glow of the star faithfully pumped into the titanic chamber faded to darkness, momentarily plunging the space into the twinkling black of space. From darkness, light returned, a tense, deep blue tone that hung in the air and brought the monitors into stark relief. A chime sounded, and Cecelia, the Protector, looked on in satisfaction at the words that appeared on her console.

BATTLESTATIONS – CONDITION 1 – BATTLESTATIONS

((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoQteIvtOPA))

Federation News Network

President Walker/Former Chancellor Cameron agree to debate!

Today the Presidential Campaigns for the Walker/Humphrey Ticket and the Cameron/Matthews Ticket have agreed to at least one debate in September 2644, the first half of the debate will cover domestic politics and the second half will cover foreign policy. Under the Election Integrity Act (2634) which set a formal inauguration day, along with the process for primaries, conventions, and electoral campaigning neither campaign can make speeches or begin holding events until January 1st of any election year. Critics of the legislation cite that this prevents candidates from reaching out to voters and making inroads early, however author of the legislation, former Minority Leader Theresa Kennedy stated "This legislation provides to make a level playing field for all Presidential Candidates, when drafting this legislation we looked at how the former United States conducted its archaic system of the electoral college and primaries, what we noticed is the people don't get to truly know a candidate between June and November. Our goal is to have the primary a year before, allow our citizens to conduct research and then have from January to November of active campaigning. We could easily start in September of the previous year, however we don't want the candidates constantly begging for donations, nor constant attack ads for over a year."

Nation slips further into Debt!

With the passage of the National Defense Authorization Act, the nation has already slipped into 1 Trillion Federation Credits into Debt. The dramatic increase of debt has been cited from the massive overall of the Federation Armed Forces, accelerated expansion of the Federation Space Forces, and the construction of a Super Dreadnought. Ontop of the projects, this includes pay as well. Now many expect by the end of these projects, a Conservative estimate, the debt will roughly be at 20 Trillion Federation Credits, a more liberal estimate cites 45 Trillion. Members of the Conservative Party are furious, Majority Leader and Foreign Minister Patrick Nixon stating "I understand we are in the midst of a crisis never before faced by our nation, however we cannot approve every program the administration or the Democratic-Progressives roll out onto us. Yes, we must prepare our nation, but we should re-allocate funds away from Infrastructure and other social programs for the time-being to fund this bill. I believe our legislative leadership must be held accountable for this, we cannot bleed our citizens dry, we must stand up for the working man."

Chancellor Jefferson released a statement in response "I agree, fiscal restraint in peace time is important, however when we are facing a threat from an unknown extra-terrestrial threat, we must act swiftly and appropriately in response to the crisis. But I will state, our debt is not owed to foreign interest, but rather our own citizens, we did this through bonds and loans. In due time we will have our debt paid off, but we cannot scuttle programs that are the bedrock of our citizens, such as healthcare and education, and even our infrastructure. If we were to be invaded and we are still repairing from the civil war, we will be at a disadvantage. I hope that Minister Jefferson see's the light in our reasoning."

Many speculate if this feud escalates Nixon will be demoted from Foreign Minister and removed from the Party Leadership. Many Conservatives view Nixon as the natural successor of Jefferson should Jefferson become President, Vice-President or retire. But many close to Nixon state he's not interested in the Chancellorship, but rather the Presidency itself, with him being a highly speculated candidate in either 2648 or 2652.

Birth of a New Royal Child

The Queen’s Office has announced today that at approximately 7 am local time, Her Majesty gave birth to a healthy baby girl at the Arigal General Hospital. The baby was christened as Princess Nadia Naomi Marcuda. Amidst this difficult and dire time, Princess Nadia’s birth has given a slight glimmer of hope.

Can I get some sort of award for being the most primitive nation in the region?

Teutionia wrote:

it's in the mail

He's the most primitive, though. He doesn't have mail.

Achaian Peloponnese wrote:

He's the most primitive, though. He doesn't have mail.

well I guess he will never get it

A leaked Transmission
:LINE 3-7 COLLAPSE, PLEASE ADVISE:
:REMAIN IN POSITION, CIVILLIAN DRIVES NEAR READY:
:LINE 3-8 COLLAPSE, IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED:
:REMAIN IN POSITION, CIVILIAN VALUE ABSOLUTE:
:LINE 3-9 UNDER FIRE, LAUNCHING BATTLESHIPS:
:
:
:UNDERSTOOD, PROVIDING COVERING FIRE:
:
:AT TARGET, BEGINNING DETONATION:
:MAY WE MEET AGAIN:
:
:CIVILLIAN DRIVES FIRED, DESTINATION UNKNOWN:
:MISSION ACCOMPLISHED:
:LINE 3-9 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-1 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-2 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-3 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-4 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-5 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-6 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-8 COLLAPSE:
:LINE 4-9 COLLAPSE:
:COMMAND LINE UNDER FIRE, TRANSMITTING PANIC CODE TO GROUND:
:I AM SORRY FATHER:

A Popular Soldier's Song

Where’s your home, Zephyr savage, where’s your home?
Did we bomb the only home that you own?
For four sh*tty years your names have crossed our ears
But we promise, there won’t be many more.

You’re all doomed, you pissant animals, you’re all doomed!
You'll never truly beat the Kaisertum!
As you steal away our dead
We’ll take your Kaiser’s head!
So take a tip and bend the f*cking knee

We're not Teuton, we're not Sudric, we're not Kiwis!
We're Austrians and proud as h*ll are we
So f*ck your purple jack, our wrath with soon be back
To us you’re all just Austrians-to-be.

Where’s your home, Zephyr savage, where’s your home?
Did we bomb the only home that you own?
For four sh*tty years your names have crossed our ears
But we promise, there won’t be many more.

Some snooty music critics have decried the song as having too many syllables, but as those who sing the song don't seem to have any issues with the "poor syllable conservation" of the song.

Austrians are putting less faith in the musical "intelligent"-sia!

Federation News Network

Conservative Revolt, Snap Election Held!

Today, Majority Leader Patrick Nixon and 83 other Conservative Councilors, in conjunction with the Democratic-Progressive Party (185), Independents (10), and the Nationalist Party (5) voted to trigger the Snap Election Act, which requires 65% of the legislative chamber to approve of a measure to call a snap election. Mr. Nixon (C-CA) stated "I love my country, I love my service as a councilor in one of the greatest legislative bodies in our galaxy, however I am furious. President Walker and Chancellor Jefferson indicated that the National Defense Authorization Act was to be used to defend our nation against a perceived K2 Threat. We haven't deployed to the fronts, heck, we haven't even deployed our troops. We have maintained defense of only our country, while we let the international community fight this fight. If we are not going to participate, then their is no reason to drive our country into further deficits and debt. I have no confidence in the present Conservative Leadership, which is why I will be challenging Mr. Jefferson for the Leadership of the Party. We need a leader to stand up to President Walker and confront him when our ideology and platform is on the line."

In order to achieve a majority any party needs to secure 218 Seats. Currently the Conservatives can only afford to lose 17 Seats, whereas the Democratic-Progressives requires 33 Seats. However if neither party obtains the required amount, it will require either party to form a working coalition with either the Nationalists or Independents.

As a result of the "Conservative Revolution", Councilor Patrick has been removed from the Conservative Leadership and demoted to Director of the Commission on Preservation of the Federation. Nixon was replaced as Majority Leader by Majority Whip Amanda Bush (C-VT) and she was replaced as Whip by President of the Council Jonathan Ivike (C-MI).

In the race for the Conservative Leadership, 100 Conservative Councilors have pledged support for Jefferson (including himself), 84 for Nixon (including himself), and 51 have not indicated their preference. Jefferson has been viewed as a likely Presidential Candidate in 2648 or 2652, if he was to lose his leadership election it could effectively kill his political ambitions.

The Conservative Party Congress is expected to meet within the next day or two to vote on the Leader. President Walker has offered his full and unwavering endorsement. Under precedent set by Kennedy and Walker, they have the authority to appoint the Conservative Leader, however they still must go through with a party vote. However, more recently in Nationalist Party v. Federation the Supreme Court ruled "The President does not have the explicit power to appoint the Chancellor at his/her own discretion. It has been precedent that the party chooses the leader, and the people via election confirm the party status as majoritarian or minority. The President choosing the Party leader greatly erodes party democracy." The decision was advisory.

Federation News Network

Project Goliath Completed!

Today, the Federation Spaces Forces received the largest expansion it has in its entire history, with the completion of Project Goliath, now renamed Federation Fleet Alpha, will mark a decisive point in defense of Federation Planetary Bodies. Also with the completion of the Alpha Fleet will allow resources to move completing further shipyards and the construction of Project Eclipse.

Federation Fleet Alpha was approved by the Federation Council in 2630, when President Conway was still governing the nation. The Project was initially scheduled to be completed between 2636-2638, however with the Great Anarchy, the Cataclysm, Alliance Wars, and the the Second Civil War pushed back the project nearly 14 years, however within that time it has allowed to make sure all ships were up to par in ensuring battle ready capability.

1: What Now Is, Shall Never Return
The Commorant Fleet had been bleeding ships for years. Fatal damages had forced thousands to flee from ship to ship, abandoning their homes to been scavenged for parts to keep the surviving vessels operational. A fleet of over a thousand now numbered in the low-hundreds.

Aboard the capital flagship Zenith Invictus, tensions were rising as the warring families vied for control.

"The Shepherd must be held accountable! The Archdeacon must levy charges-"
"To question the Prophetic Shepherd is to question God himself. The Archdeacon-"
"- and what of the Sephanos duty to hold the Archdeacon accountable? Is he not too bound by the tenets of the concordat?"
All the royal families were present, seated at their many tables in a circle around the large, cavernous room. The red and green banners of the aggressive Mordoks, the blue and yellow of the valiant Moriens, and the purple and silver silks of the Al-Sephani, and half a dozen other families were represented in a colourful spectrum and continued to levy arguments and insults at each other. The shouting had bene ongoing for over an hour and only stopped when the large, ornate doors were thrown open.
A barrel-chested, square-jawed man entered, dressed in a military uniform adorned with medals and a short shoulder cape swept over his shoulder. He was accompanied by a small group of uniformed soldiers in sleek, simple armour. Abhishek of Akhil was a statesman, military leader, and a footsoldier of the Al-Sephani clan. His uncle Tamad was the patriarch of the Sephanos family and leader of Clan Al-Sephani, and Tamad stood to greet his nephew as he approached. The clans all fell silent, awaiting the news Abhishek surely had brought them. Abhishek whispered something to Tamad, who nodded and gestured to the empty podium at the centre of the room.
Abhishek ascended the podium. The soldiers that accompanied him melted away into the curtains and banners around the perimeter of the room.

"Lords of the Old World, Clans of the Sel'Kori. I bring terrible news to you today. Both the Archdeacon and the Prophetic Shepherd have been murdered." Murmurs rippled throughout the room. Several gasps punctuated the rising voices. Before anyone could speak, Abhishek continued. "The royal guard, our faithful Sira'Kaj, bore witness to these crimes and have informed me of who is responsible."
An elderly man from Clan Mordok stood. "What proof have you brought, Sephanos?" He demanded, "You come here without evidence, claiming our leaders were murdered. Our leaders, with whom you have often clashed! How are we to believe what you tell us?"
Abhishek allowed himself a small smile. At this distance, nobody in the room could see it. "First of all, Kamal: I am not Sephanos. I have requested in this very room that you do not associate me with my father's lineage. Secondly..." Abhishek waved a hand and gunfire rang put in the chamber. People screamed. Some jumped to their feet, others threw themselves to the ground. Every member of Clan Al-Sephani lay still. Uncle Tamad was slumped over the table, blood spreading across the tabletop below him.
"Clan Al-Sephani stands accused of murder and the highest treason!" Abhishek announced, unflinching in the sudden execution of his family. The Sira'Kaj remerged from the curtains, reloading their weapons and securing the chamber. Two of the Sira-Kaj agents approached Clan Morien menacingly.

"It is on this solemn note that I must accept leadership of Clan Al-Sephani," Abhishek stated to the fearful families. "And nominate myself for the newly-vacated title of Archdeacon. Are there any other nominations? No? Then let's move straight to the vote."
The Sira'Kaj did not have their weapons raised, but the implication was clear. One agent, carrying only a small pistol, approached Abhishek with a silver crown adorned with blue jewels. Blood still dripped from the crown.
The elderly man from Clan Mordok stood again, sadness in his eyes. "I vote to elect Abhishek of Akhil to the role of Archdeacon." There was an uncomfortable stillness as the surviving royals followed their elders lead in kneeling before Abhishek.

The throne was not yet cold when Abhishek sat upon it. The Sira'Kaj, impossibly loyal to their new leader, had many tasks ahead of them.
"The old families will not be loyal for long," Abhishek mused, "once the Church appoints a new Prophetic Shepherd, they'll mobilise the Knights Vigilate against us. Confessor Aynsley will alert us when this happens but we should be able to achieve our goal before they can do this. The deacons are too ambitious to let each other win without a fight."
The Sira'Kaj agents nodded. They already new this, but Abhishek was running the plan to himself. The two heads of the Sira'Kaj stood ready for permission to carry out their tasks. Kavan Sarek would take a small team to enforce new orders to the helmsman, while Syvai Otorr would begin securing the other capital ships of the fleet against insurrection by limiting news of the takeover. The plan had been made over the course of several years. The previous Archdeacon had led them to ruin, and it was time to go home.

2: What Once Was, Shall Be Again
Kavan Sarek stood silently as the helmsman read his new orders.
"I don't understand," the helmsman said, "We're supposed to just... Go back? Abandon the path?"
Kavan nodded, "The Archdeacon has re-evaluated the pilgrimage. The promised land is not what was once suspected. We need top turn back immediately."
The helmsman was visibly distraught, but understood. The door to the bridge opened. Kavan turned around, hand resting on his holster.

A man entered the bridge. He was older than Kavan, closer to Abhishek's age. He was dressed in the robes of the Seraphic Order, and carried a ceremonial mace hanging at his belt. The holy man extended a hand, and Kavan shook it.
"Confessor Aynsley." Kavan greeted.
"Agent Sarek," Aynsley replied, "Helmsman."
The helmsman was not afforded a handshake, and he returned to his duties. The two men approached the wide window of the bridge, looking out into the only void. Once out of earshot, Aynsley relayed his news.
"Abhishek's theory was correct. The council of deacons are fighting among themselves for the title of Prophetic Shepherd. He is free to take control of the fleet."
Kaven glanced over his shoulder. "And what of our... True master?"
A thin, twisted smile creeped across Aynsley's face. His famously warm and friendly demeanour slipped. "Clan Al-Sephani is dead, slain by their own, and the true Sephanos family are afforded their place. Has Syvai leaked the news yet?"
"Not yet," Kavan admitted, "I asked her to wait until we heard from you."
Aynsley nodded in agreement. "Of course," he said, "No need to startle the goat that reveals the cliffside path."
"One of your holy insights?" Kavan mocked.
"The Book of Yaraska," Aynsley explained, "I mean that Abhishek should not be interfered with as long as he causes all the right chaos. Let him kill and threaten and make a fool of himself, no need to end his plan before he removes all our obstacles."
"As long as he doesn't turn on our allies," Kavan warned, "my allegiance may not be to Abhishek, but it is equally not to your faith. If Abhishek threatens our future, I'll kill him myself."
"So make sure he doesnt," Aynsley drawled, walking back across the bridge to the door. He turned back to Kavan, speaking loudly before the crew, "this is your responsibility, Agent Sarek. See to it that it is kept in order."
Kavan watched Aynsley leave, then drew his communicator. "Sarek to Otorr: Aynsley is green, prepare to pull the rug."

Syvai Otorr was second-in-command of the Sira'Kaj. When Kavan was closely guarding their sovereign, Syvai had total control of the royal protection force. She had instructed her troops to follow Abhishek's order to secure the other capital ships. Abhishek was their Archdeacon now, and the Sira'Kaj were sworn to his command. Except the Sira'Kaj did not recognise Abhishek's leadership. They were sworn to his predecessor but we're loyal to neither. They needed new leadership and Abhishek was the blunt instrument needed to enforce change. The Sira'Kaj were loyal to the one they revered, the true Archdeacon who would ascend in the wake of Abhishek's chaos. Most of the Sira'Kaj would be executed of course but Kavan, Syvai and a select few would shed their uniforms and pledge fealty in the new order.
While Syvai's agents secured the other capital ships, she herself took a transport to the capital ship of Clan Al-Sephani. The clan, busy mourning the tragic slaughter of their leaders, had no time to question what Syvai was doing in the bowels of the ship. Deep in the depths of the massive ship was a hole, a blank space in the blueprints as designed by a secret cult within the church. Their cult has been festering throughout the leadership of the fleet for years now, using tools left by their ancestors to size their future. Tools like this hole in the blueprints.

Because as Syvai entered, it was clearly not a hole. It was a large chamber of cables, pipes, computers and medical equipment. A vertical cylinder of turquoise liquid stood in the centre of the room, pipes and cables cycling power, fluid, and nutrients to the tank and its occupant. A hazy silhouette was visible through the liquid, suspended in the tank with wires and tubes connected to their veins, organs, and brain. Speakers were built into the top of the tank, allowing the computers around the room to read and process the brainwaves of the patient.
Syvai kneeled on the rough, metal floor of the secret chamber, head bowed in reverence.
"Hail, Imperator!" Syvai wailed, "Our plan is continuing without much issue. Confessor Aynsley is gathering your disciples within the Knights Vigilate, and Agent Sarek is in position to slay the puppet Abhishek. The Sephanos family is dead, ready for your return."
"No." The garbled, robotic voice from the speakers declared.
"Imperator?"
"The judgement of the heretic Abhishek has been... Weighing on me. The laws of the Seraphic Church must be followed. The correct punishment for heresy is blinding to God's grace. Abhishek will be spared, for now."
"Yes, Imperator. I will inform Agent Sarek at once. Is there anything else I should tell him?"
There was a long silence. The figure in the tank did not move. Finally, the simulated voice echoed again.
"My children have lost their way. They drift through the stars in search of a salvation they do not recognise. I was prevented from delivering salvation once before. I will remind them of the power their history books have assured them is dead. Go forth, Agent Otorr, as the instrument of divine remembrance, and stoke the fires of Korahlia's ancestry..."
"Yes, Imperator." Syvai stood and threw a quick, sharp salute. "Hail, Imperator!"
"In the fires of Iaezandria's first fall, in the birth of the phoenix from the ashes of Morien folly, from Elithis' shining seas and the golden sands of Daemondriael, an awakening shall be afforded...
Syvai turned and left the chamber. The Imperator was known to ramble into circular rhetoric like this, as the computers translating their thoughts tapped into subconscious trains. Syvai spoke quietly to the scientists and doctors assembled near the door, then left.

3: What is Reborn, Shall Never End
Abhishek was resting on the throne when Kavan returned. The plan had been progressing as planned. It had been several days since he took charge to save his people, and there had not yet been any resistance from the other royal families. The deacons were still bickering over the title of Prophetic Shepherd. The Sira'Kaj had reported no uprisings among the fleet. In fact, the Sira'Kaj had not reported anything at all...
Kavan entered the throne room and kneeled before the throne. Abhishek waved a hand and Kavan stood.
"Praise be unto you, Archdeacon," Kavan droned, pushing the formalities aside. "How is the plan going?"
Abhishek gestured to a stack of documents on a table beside him. "I've passed all the legislature we need. No more debate from the families, all signed by them. Separation of church and state, so even when they do select a Prophetic Shepherd, he cannot tell me what to do."
Kavan paused, "But that means... You also can't tell him what to do?"
Abhishek scoffed, "Whoever they pick will be a pushover anyway."
Kavan's hand rested ion his holster. "So, my lord, I have a question."
"Of course, my friend. What is it?"
"What obstacles are left? The church is separated, the families are removed of power... What threats remain to your office?"
Abhishek thought for a moment. "None of official standing. Just the unionists and rebel groups. The Children of Equality and the Kadi Al-Seiv, namely. The Razyuth-Ma, and all that native tribal nonsense. No offence, of course."
Kavan nodded, unfastening his holster. "None taken, as I hope is the same to you." He drew his pistol and levelled it at Abhishek's temple. "Abhishek vil-Akhil Tarun Al-Sephani, you are under arrest for the murder of the Prophetic Shepherd, the murder of the former Archdeacon, conspiracy against Korahlia and heresy against the Church of our Lord."

Abhishek scowled as Sira'Kaj agents flooded into the throne room. Syvai approached, her operatives carrying sealed evidence bags.
Abhishek glared at Kavan. "You think you can just turn on me, take power for yourself? Who would believe the leaders of my own guard?"
Syvai smiled triumphantly. "We aren't your guards, pig. You killed our Archdeacon, and a traitorous team of Sira'Kaj assisted you. Speaking of which..." Syvai signalled to the forty-odd agents in the room, and they quickly turned on each other. The ambush was swift, treacherous, and ultimately hollow. Half of the Sira'Kaj lay dead on the ground. The rest turned their guns on Abhishek.
"Those traitors helped you kill the Archdeacon," Syvai explained, "and only when Agent Sarek and I discovered the truth did we attempt to arrest you. Your Sira'Kaj traitors were all killed in the battle."
Abhishek was horrified. "No! No, you were all with me! We did this together!"
Kavan feigned confusion. "No, I don't think so. We were loyal to the Archdeacon, who you murdered."
Abhishek stood, pushing Kavan's pistol away from his face. "Where's Aynsley? You can't charge me with a crime without the presence of a Confessor!"
Syvai shook her head dramatically. "Did you separate the church from the government? I don't think they have the power to do that now. But I'll call him in anyway and we'll sort this mess out."

Aynsley was called to the throne room, where he was horrified by the corpses scattered about the room. Abhishek quickly marched over to him.
"Aynsley! Sarek and Otorr have turned on us! They killed these Sira'Kaj, they accused me of murder!"
"But only a Confessor can charge you with crimes." Aynsley said. "Unless... Did you separate the church from the government?"
Abhishek's face sank. "I did... I did, because you told me to! You have to get me out of this, Aynsley!"
Aynsley nodded, "Don't worry, sir. I will represent you in court myself and we will clear this all up. Sarek and Otorr will pay for their treachery! That is..."
Abhishek looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. "What? That is what?"
"That is, if you still had any leverage over me. I am a devout member of the Seraphic Church, and no longer a member of the government. I don't work for you, and your blackmail is rendered useless in the face of these charges."
Abhishek fell silent, defeated. He stood in silence as his three cohorts in the conspiracy handcuffed him and led him from the throne room.

The brief but bloody regime of Abhishek vil-Akhil Tarun Al-Sephani had come to an end. Kavan Sarek and Syvai Otorr were heroes, seeking justice for their murdered master. Silas Aynsley was commended for his role in restoring law and order in the fleet, and was awarded with the title of Lord-Confessor, the highest law enforcement role in the Seraphic Church. The stage was set, the hurdles removed and a bloodthirsty tyrant made for a strong comparison to the next leader. Sarek, Otorr and Aynsley had manufactured a power vacuum felt not only in the Concord government, but in the church as well. The cult sprang into action, obtaining roles of authority with letters of commendation from the Concord's newest heroes.