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Dotting the i's, crossing the t's
Posted: Jan 4 2009, 10:23 AM
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Lord Mayor Ian Asquith-Smythe-Hogg was sitting in his rather plushy appointed and comfortable office in Montepool, going through his to-do list. He was the Head of Government of a country most best known (if at all) for being right next to Starblaydia. Either that or a Cup of Harmony championship in the distant past, he couldn't decide. Besides, he had work to do. First he went to do his weekly check on the status of the Pound Sterling.

QUOTE
The following error was encountered while attempting to generate the page:
QUOTE
The nation you searched for does not exist. Please check the name and try again.(occurred when loading http://www.nationstates.net/cgi-bin/nation...ova_britannicus)
line 53, nseconomy.php

If you believe this message is the result of a bug, file a request in the bug tracker.


"Oh," he said out loud. The international economy website must be down, he thought, as his bookmark would not have changed. Time to see how fat Nova Britannicans were in comparison to the rest of the world - that was the latest World Consus report.

QUOTE
Nation not found

The nation "Nova Britannicus" does not exist.

(If this was once your nation, it may have been deleted for inactivity: you can restore it.)


"Oh no," the Lord Mayor said,"oh bloomin' Nora no."

Tapping a few buttons, he called up the map of Atlantian Oceania, a real-time cartographic link from the UCS.

QUOTE (Commerce Heights)
Map updated 2008–11–09:

    * Added Nojika (NOJ).
    * Expanded Demot.
    * Removed Hypocria.
    * Removed Nedalia.
    * Removed Nova Britannicus.
    * Removed Oliverry.
    * Removed Quakmybush.


"OH FLAMIN' AIDA, NO!" the Lord Mayor practically fell out of his chair. There was only one person he knew with enough clout to sort this out. Picking himself up and punching the button for his secretary, he yelled out, loud enough that the secretary wouldn't have needed the phone link, "Get Tiberius on the blower for me, quick sharp!"
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Posted: Jan 4 2009, 11:28 AM
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A long, long day. All the days seemed to have stretched out to unbearable lengths, even on the cold winter ones where darkness seemed to encroach shortly after lunchtime. Tiberius Starblayde was once more the Lord-Protector of Starblaydia, but he was failing. His body, so Losaran said, was no longer strong enough to hold his spirit, and soon he would pass on and go the way of the First Men. He'd had a good and long life, and had three beautiful children to look upon, not to mention the beautiful wife who had carried them.

Curzon: his eldest son, his first born. Fourteen years old, strong and noble. The very image of his father with short and fairly spiky silver locks. With his unnatural confidence and maturity, what a great Lord-Protector he could make in the future, hopefully not a future that would be too close for him. Lexus: his only daughter. Here was a twelve year old girl with the lock dark locks and skin tone of her mother, the same simple, kind words for anyone around her to raise their spirits. The same all-seeing eyes that you never really knew what was going on behind. Julius: his youngest. Little Jools the tearaway, tagging along with either his sister or brother, depending who's will was most strongly enforced at that moment. The darting, happy eyes and longing for adventure.

Those were the children of Tiberius and Dominique Starblayde, the most famous, sought after and photographed couple in the entire region. He stared at their pictures in the frames upon his desk and wondered what they might look like in twenty years time. He failed, of course, as he'd never be able to see them as anything other than his babies no matter what age they might reach.

His thoughts were broken by the buzzing of his intercom.

<Lord-Mayor Asquith-Smythe-Hogg still holding for you, my Lord. He seems rather exasperated.>

"Thank-you, Miss Baxter," Tiberius replied, selecting the right button, "Ian, old chap, how are you?"

"... oh, well that's odd..."

"... yeah...."

"... uh-huh..."

"... calm down, now..."

"... tell you what. I'll sort it. Yes, I'll sort it... Time to make our little arrangement more solid."

"... that's precisely what I mean...."

"... precisely. Vote Ja on the Anschluss."

He replaced the phone. Now this would be interesting. Punching another button, he was connected almost immediately with just the right person.

<Yes, Sir?>

"Ah, General. The time has come. Execute order nineteen-sixty-six."

<At once, my Lord.>
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Posted: Jan 10 2009, 10:33 AM
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Koryatsky woke up from a terrible nightmare. He was still on his tent floor (which was the ground), but it felt as though the earth were pricking him with a thousand needles. Maybe that was the ground too, but anyway, he was brimming with fear.

The rest of the Government Council looked over to Koryatsky, wondering why he suddenly and terribly stole all of the blankets. "What's going on?" Kowak asked.

"I just had a dream."

"We all have dreams, President," remarked Minister Yan Mira. "Now give us our blankeys back!"

"It was dream about an invasion!"

"Invasion?" they all shouted. "By whom?"

"I don't color, but it was liking watching TV, and the screen suddenly was dripping with purple ooze. Tanks in the background! Submarines at our shores!"

"Come on, President. Glass boxes and sandwiches can't be that harmful..."
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Posted: Jan 11 2009, 05:46 PM
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Order Nineteen Sixty-six.

One of the many, many contingency orders that are built in to the MITHRIL (Military Threat Information Level) structure. Every Starblaydi officer was required to know, if not all of them, then where they could immediately obtain a certified list of them, so as to action any order given by their Supreme Commander, the Lord-Protector. This one dealt with ex-nations, as quite a few did, in particular those in alliance with Starblaydia.

The full text of the order read as follows:

QUOTE
Order 1966: In the event of a nation closely allied to Starblaydia ceasing to exist, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander (Lord-Protector), Starblaydi Armed Forces commanders will engage their operatives to replace the ceased national command and control structures with the established Starblaydi command structure.


As with so many of these contingency orders, their actual specifics were missing so as to allow for the varying different scenarios covered by the single order. All in all, it allowed the commanders - in this case Lord-Commander General Aerys Fyreskar - to act in the manner they deemed appropriate. The current international climate was not one in which Starblaydi tanks rolling across the border and through the streets of the six Britannican Metropolises would be acceptable, however, as memories of Starblaydi Gilgamesh tanks blazing a trail through most of the Allied States of the Lowland Clans were still fresh enough to be hated by most Atlantians. This, coupled with the fact that Nova Britannicus had long been simply a puppet government, with the various Lords Mayor controlled from Jhanna and even to the extent that Starblaydia had secretly conducted its business with the then-United Nations, meant that things could proceed an altogether different way.

General Fyreskar's orders were simple, yet cunning, and due to the natural culture of deference to superiors within Nova Britannicus, they would ensure an easy transition. Many people knew that they were ultimately loyal to Starblaydia, after all, as Tiberius Starblayde was the 'friendly neighbour' or 'older brother' ('big' or 'bigger' brother was purposefully never encouraged) who, in his capacity as Starblaydi Lord-Protector, did a lot of protecting of Nova Britannicus, too.

Overnight, the changes were made. Every navy-blue flag that flew was replaced by a purple one. Every official headquarters had Nova Britannican references removed and replaced by Starblaydi ones. In some cases this had been well-prepared, with new plaques quickly taking the place of old ones, such as outside the Nova Britannicus Football Association headquarters: here Britannican teams already played in the Starblaydi leagues, and Britannican players were quickly granted Starblaydi passports when needed to play for the Starblaydi national team.

In other places the changes were less 'professional'. Outside some of the less-important ministries, sandwich-board style signs were erected with 'Under New Management' on them. Titles were painted out and replaced with what, at first, appeared like graffiti. As soldiers ran up their flags in the morning, exasperated Sergeants looked up to see the black, white and purple of the Starblaydi flag above them, with a shining golden eagle.

The eagle of law and order, used as a symbol of Starblaydia for so many years, now flew over what once had been sovereign Britannican soil.
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Posted: Jan 12 2009, 06:54 AM
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"Ladies and gentlemen," the speaker at the microphone said, "boys and girls. May I present to you: the Lord Mayor."

To the bemusement of millions watching in their homes and listening to their radios, the accompanying band struck up, soon joined by the choir. That was not unusual in itself, of course, as whenever the Lord Mayor, leader of Nova Britannicus, appeared on television he was prefaced by a slow-motion shot of the Britannican flag waving, accompanied by the national anthem "The Self-Preservation Society" (informally known as "Get a bloomin' move on!"). This time, however, instead of the usual introduction and opening lines "Go wash your German bands, your boat race too/Comb your Barnet Fair we got a lot to do ", the viewers and listeners were treated to a familiar tune, starting off as a rousing march with some also-familiar lyrics:

"All Hail the Lord-Protector/Our Light and triumphant benefactor..."

The radio listeners had no idea, but the watching audience were greeted by the Starblaydi flag. As the music faded and the scene cut to Lord Mayor Ian Asquith-Smythe-Hogg, they noticed that behind him were a line of four Starblaydi flags, interspersed with those of Nemya, Aquiliana and Nova Britannicus itself. The nation drew a collective breath, not wanting to admit to themselves that it had finally happened.

"Good morning," the Mayor said, "may I first apologise for the unexpected introduction, though I'd like to qualify that by saying that I'm sure we'll all grow used to it in the coming months. Ladies and gentlemen, the Loose City-State Association of Nova Britannicus is no more, and has been such for some months now. Surprising as that is, I know, I can assure you it has been the case for some months now in both the World Assembly and the Atlantian Oceania Civil Headquarters. We have simply been ignored by the international community. It is under this cloud that invited Lord-Protector Tiberius Starblayde to extend his protection to our great City-States. He, to our eternal gratitude, accepted my request and has brought us within his Praetoran powers. As with Nemya and Aquiliana before us, we shall be fulled integrated as Starblaydi-Britannican citizens. Our unique cultural identity will remain steadfastly with us, as has been demonstrated in the two examples previously given.

"We are now part of one of the greatest nations in the world, our bigger brother has always stood shoulder to shoulder with us, and now they have put their arm around us too. We, as a people, as a nation, shall move forward into a new age of prosperity with our good neighbours. The destiny of Nova Britannicus lies as part of a greater future, one which we will all benefit from. I ask for your understanding during this transition and I ask that you join me in working for this goal."
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Posted: Jan 12 2009, 06:15 PM
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Felix Octavian, relaxing in the Royal Palace in front of KBS' rolling news channel, couldn't believe his eyes. He'd not been expecting this - and a mere few years after the abortive Starblaydi takeover of Krytenia, too.

Immediately, he began to wonder how much of this was down to the Lord-Protector's wife, a woman who was the owner of one of the few orders banning an individual from Krytenian soil - and, ironically, the only living former leader of Krytenia.

Felix, sighed, picked up the violet "STB - Hotline" phone on his desk, and dialled. He waited for an answer.

"Tiberius, Felix here. Wondered if you'd care to tell me what the hell you two are playing at?!?
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Posted: Jan 13 2009, 04:27 AM
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"Ahoy-hoy?" He knew exactly who it was, though, waiting for the new King of Krytenia to introduce himself.

"Ah, your Majesty," Tiberius said, with a smile as wide as the Bekk, "enjoying the running of your new Federal Rep... er, Socia..., I mean your new Constitutional Monarchy?"

"Uh-huh," Tiberius doodled on his pad as he listened, "well, we're just doing our neighbours a favour. They evidently couldn't spare the manpower to ring up the United Na... - World Assembly - and let them know they were still operating a country. Perhaps they got stuck in the automated phone system; pressed the wrong button or something, Gods know it's a mess when you try to get hold of them. Anyway, we have bureaucrats to burn - not literally, of course - and figured that we could take a hold of that responsibility for them. Of course for such a service we required, well, the country. simple, really.

"Just imagine," he said, cutting Felix's protestation off with his 'Praetor' voice that he used for orders, public speeches, with Dominique when the doors were locked and generally when he wanted to sound impressive, "what the map would look like if you revolutionary types hadn't ousted my dear Dominique, half of Calania might be tinted purple by now.

"So," he said with a sense of accomplishment in his voice, "what can I do for you?"
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Posted: Jan 13 2009, 03:25 PM
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Felix felt slightly abashed. His first attempt at international diplomacy had just fallen flat on his face, and he knew it. Quickly, he regained his composure.

"As long as that's all that it is. You can have that bit as purple as you like; just so long as there's no ulterior motive, it's fine by me."

This, the King decided, was probably a good time to keep a close eye on....er, curry favour with the neighbours.

"Look, I think we've started on the wrong foot here. How about you come over to the Palace and we'll get some proper talking done - say it's some sort of non-aggression treaty or trade aggreement, some bollocks like that, and set the world right over a couple of bottles of vodka? Best leave the missus at home though, she's not exactly...popular around here."
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Posted: Jan 14 2009, 11:05 AM
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Koryatsky woke up with another tremor. By this time, the Cabinet had relocated into the new Republican Palace, but still, it was annoying that the President consistently took all of their blankets every single time he had a nightmare. Kowak tried to reason with him.

"What's wrong now?" Kowak asked.

"Big Brother is watching!"

"Who's Big Brother?"

"I don't know. If I knew, I wouldn't be saying 'Big Brother', now would I?"

"Maybe Big Brother is his name?"

"No. Anyway, I have a baaaad feeling about this. Something's not right and I feel like some purple is crawling up me to seize me..."

"That would be the purple-stinging nellie that's on your leg."

"EGADS!!!" Koryatsky jumped to his feet, trying to scrape off the purple-stinging nellie, whatever that was. After a jittery dance of some five minutes, including the time to assure the President that the purple-stinging nellie was out of the room (the President has a severe case of arachnophobia), under a jar and never to bother him again. Just as he began to calm down, he asked, "Did we build this darned building a netting colony of purple-stinging nellies?"

"No, why?"

"Because the ceiling is full of purple-stinging nellies."

At that, the whole Cabinet rushed out of the room, satisfied to sleep out on the ground again. But Koryatsky was still a bit struck-odd by the events of the past few days. "I think we should watch the news some time to see what's going on around Atlantian Oceania."

"Tomorrow, Mr. President. Right now, give us back our blankeys."
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Posted: Jan 18 2009, 04:50 PM
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"Capital idea, Felix," Tiberius said, an idea forming in his mind, "tell you what, I'll come over to Krytenia - sans missus, of course - and we can have a good old chinwag about ... whatever. Politics, geography, sport- Football, of course. Part of a-" he stopped for a moment as the idea took hold, "first of a region-wide tour. Any leader who'll have me sit on their sofa for a bit. I'll fly over to you, but take the Orca all over the place. Lots of photo opportunities and the like. I'll have my people call your people and we can get it set up officially."

I'll have my people tell your people when I'm coming, he didn't say. Perhaps I could take the kids, too. Show them what awaits them in time. Not much time.
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Posted: Jan 20 2009, 04:35 PM
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On to business... always on to business, Tiberius thought. The world kept on turning and his in-tray was always filling up. This time, however, it was something more personal than usual. One of his Venators was leaving - Dangermouse himself, Jaehaerys Fyreskar. The man who killed General Dorian Hadilla of Xile, the man who shot Tiberius himself when Viannor seized power. Tiberius had forgiven him for that, after all, he had been shooting at the security officer moments before, having killed his partner moments earlier. Jay had even warned him, not that Tiberius heeded it. Jay had redeemed himself years later when Tiberius took his place in society back, choosing the side that his heart had always been with.

But now Jay was leaving service to the Starblaydi state, going to work for a private 'defence contractor'. Tiberius didn't need him, after all, there was an almost endless supply of talented agents willing to die - or to kill - to protect the Praetoran idea.

"Tell me why, Jay," Tiberius asked from behind his desk.

"I just," Jay shifted in his seat, "I've just got too many memories from this place. These people. So many faces, so much... history."

"What are Rampart like?" Tiberius asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, you know it started as an extra-special training centre for our Sierra-Tangos," Jay said, meaning the highly trained and heavily equipped Police Strike Teams, "then they expanded to take on some of the training of PP," Principal Protection, "duties for the Venators."

"And now?"

"Now? Well," Jay relayed what he knew, knowing that Tiberius would probably know everything already, "they've made enough money to maintain a standing force for rapid-reaction. They gave the Venators battlefield teams a great run for their money in some wargames, recently. Full range of equipment, vehicles, and so on, good command structure. They're pros."

"And they pay well?"

"Even better than the Praetoran government," Jay grinned. Defence spending was always a high priority in Starblaydia.

"You hear they might take over, and I mean outright buy, Müber?"

"Oh?" Jay looked surprised. Müber Aerospace were most famous for making the F-23S, otherwise known as the Nightwing, one of the most famous aircraft to take to Atlantian Oceania's skies. They also had a portfolio of helicopters, as well as large civilian and transport craft. "Didn't know that. Wow, no wonder they can afford to pay me that much."

"They're going to be an army in their own right, Jay," Tiberius said, leaning forward on his elbows, "as a Lieutenant Colonel, you're going to be a key part of it."

"Never thought of it as a private army, my Lord." Jay looked a little sheepish.

"It's a security loophole," Tiberius said, "they've snuck through it to collect a military power - albeit untested - that's stronger than quite a few nations. Orcinus has one, too."

"What?" Jay sat bolt upright on that one.

"Yup," Tiberius said, "hell, even ediraf have their own teams. If it wasn't draining my Armed Forces, I wouldn't mind. Not much, at least. I think we might be taking the steps to a UCS-like state. Corporations with the power of nation states, taking everything over."

"There's a way to fight that," Jay said, he didn't want a Unified Capitalizt States of Starblaydia any more than Tiberius did.

"Oh?" Tiberius had gone over all the options with his Inner Council already, one more opnion couldn't hurt, however useless, "try me."

"Fight fire with fire," Jay said, "Starblaydia, Incorporated. PLC. Whatever."

"Go on."

"Starblaydia is run as a business, right?" Jay gesticulated with his hands when he talked passionately about something, whether Principal Protection, football or... whatever this was, "instead of consumers and customers you have taxpayers. And instead of CEOs you have, well, you. Run it more like a business, and you'll compete with the, well, businesses. Right?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Tiberius said impassively, his face hiding the light bulb that had just gone off in his brain, his mind racing, "as we sort-of do that already, anyway."

"Ah well," Jay said, shrugging his shoulders, "your guys know more than me. Bit obvious, I suppose. Dumb idea."

"No ideas are dumb Jay," Tiberius said, standing up, which was Jay's cue to leave, "unless I say so: and that one isn't."

Shaking his former employee's hand, Tiberius escorted him out of his office, then quickly rushed back to his desk. He punched a button on his telephone.

"Finance. Now."
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Posted: Jan 20 2009, 05:38 PM
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"... And we turn our attention to Nova Britannicus, which just became the newest province of Starblaydia. The Mayor of Nova Brittanicus gave his last speech as Mayor, explaining to his surprised citizens as the Starblaydian colors were raised over the country."

"'...We have simply been ignored by the international community. It is under this cloud that I invited Lord-Protector Tiberius Starblayde to extend his protection to our great City-States. He, to our eternal gratitude, accepted my request and has brought us within his Praetoran powers...'"

"More news about the Starblaydian take-over in 10 minutes. In local news, purple-stinging nellie mating season is upon us, and people everywhere are taking to the streets in record numbers to watch the spectacle..."

The TV suddenly went off as Marek Koryatsky stood up to his feet in horror. "Did you see the news?" he asked the Cabinet.

"Of course, I did," the Cabinet replied. "Now are you ready for your 8 o'clock lift-off?"

"For the bazillionth time, you are not a helicopter! And I wasn't talking to you!"

"Fine..."

Koryatsky turned to his real Cabinet, hoping that they were paying attention to the news. Kowak offered his opinion: "Isn't it nice of the Starblaydians to take responsibility of the protection for their fellow neighbors?"

"I was talking about the purple-stinging nellies!!!" Koryatsky screamed. "It's breeding season!"

"So?"

"You know I extremely dislike purple-stinging nellies!"

"We should talk to the Starblaydian government, see if we can fall under their protection too."

"Do they protect against purple-stinging nellies?"

"Ummm...." Kowak wasn't sure what the right answer was. "Yes?"

"Call them!!!"

QUOTE
To Whomever Is Responsible For Foreign Policy in Starblaydia

We, the government of Allemenschen would like to invite your government to visit us and discuss some affairs of which we are dearly vested in protecting.  We are supporting your generous protection of Nova Britannicus and we hope that you have a good time protecting them, especially from purple-stinging nellies.

We have a very nice city for your visit too, so we hope that you'd like to come.  Anyway... we're ready and willing to meet with you anytime; we hope that you accept our invitation.  Actually... um... Maria, you can stop typing.  No, I mean that literally.  Yes, stop typing.  Okay, good.  Um... and say,... Most sincerely and respectfully, Prime Minister Wilyelm Kowak.  Let me see that.  Hey!!! I said stop typing!  What's this mess?  Edit it out immediately and just send it to them.  But don't edit it all out.  Just end it with that last bit.  Yes, that little bit.

Most Sincerely and Respectfully,

Prime Minister Wilyelm Kowak
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Posted: Jan 20 2009, 06:02 PM
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Tarrick shuffled the papers and envelopes on his desk, and poured the whole pile into the fire.
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