February 23rd, 1900, Senryu, Hiron

A somewhat older pair of Hironese bureaucrats sat lounging naked in an onsen, letting the warm spring waters wash over their bodies, relaxation flooding through them. Outside, fitful drifts of snow had accumulated, but inside, it was actually comfortable. One leaned back and rested his head on some smoothed rocks surrounding the onsen, sighing to himself before talking to his compatriot, "So what's the current news at your bureau, Takami-san?"

Takami stretched the muscles in his chest and back, feeling the capillaries engorge with blood from the heat, "Supposedly we're establishing an embassy in Gojong in a few days. Minister Tsutsumi-san doesn't seem particularly excited about them at the moment, apparently he's dealing with some other complicated matters during audiences with the Dragon Emperor. Something big is coming."

"I'd have to agree. That speech the other day by the Emperor made it pretty clear, as well as the whole Droulez Affair. It's an interesting thought, don't you think? The idea of the Imperium fighting with the oh-so-glorious Empire of Violette," replied Chenijiro.

Takami chuckled for a moment, "Eh, the arrogant pricks have it coming to them. You heard how their General Droulez handled the whole affair, right?"

"Yeah, trying to have a mock trial in front of the Embassy instead of growing a pair and staring the women whose lives he ruined in the eye and standing before a Hironese Judge to be tried properly. Dishonorable fuck," Chenijiro made an incredibly vulgar sign with his hand in the direction of Violette, reaffirming their dishonor.

"I'm not surprised though, they're Veletians," at that, the pair laughed together and began rambling on about affairs throughout the Imperium and their daily lives.

The February Offensive had taken her toll on Osladian forces, and the Polkovniks from all divisions participating in the offensive voiced concerns of weak morale among the lower ranks and supplies in a equally miserable state. However the high command had given Yakovich an order, and high command was not a group to accept failure. In a written statement sent out to the Polkovniks of all divisions involved, General Yakovich wrote the following.

"I understand the concerns among the lower officers, and I can assure all of the sergeantry that we will be recieving resupply and reinforcement by the month's end. However, as Field Marshal Bogolov and our holy Tsar himself have requested, the city of Kreogen must be taken and the offensive must continue. But remain faithful, fellow Slads of Holy Oslad, we will prevail and once this city falls we will be returning as heroes to Oslograd and Voskreya by Summer! Hail Oslad, and God save the Tsar!

- General Gregory Yakovich, General of the Voskreya Northern Army Group"

The message was met with a mixture of disgruntled sighs, coffin humor, and outright protest among the sergeant-class of the army. However, the order remained, and come the dawn of the 23rd the whistle would have to be blown and the offensive would continue. Quietly, General Yakovich quickly dispatched a new telegram to Oslograd High Command requesting immediate allocation of extra supplies and manpower come March.

Reports have come in from the judicial office that the 5 thousand and some kalpian prisoners will be tried by the highest court in all of zellonia for assassination. However the foreign office has stated that word is being sent to kalpia that in return for a white peace all prisoners will be returned unharmed. The judges will await a month for a response from the kalpian republic should there be no response or zellonia be fully ignored the trials will commence.

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Dearest May,

I hope this letter finds you in far better care than my own. This harsh winter has taken it’s toll out on us. Especially those wounded in the field, for some night espesially during this damn osladian offensive I can hear the men call out for help or be put out of the misery. Sadly with the osladian lines so far back and my comrades and I being told to conserve ammo have to hear the wails of the dead throughout the night and early day before they’ve finally submitted to the pain or have frozen over.

Yet what’s even worse then the damned winter nights is the orders my damn lieutenant calls out. He expects day in and day out to hold the line against the far better equipped osladian forces. He has us barely use any coverage and because of the zellonian chain of command permit little room for error we must do as we are told. Even when less than half of the division is armed and instead must be ready to pick up a rifle at a moment's notice. Oh how I’ve seen how many times the osladians have pushed and while we’re able to push them back due to the harsh conditions, I know that it is truly because of our men and what we’re fighting for. As I can see in all of the men around me the tenacity we are to save our families and loved ones for if we fail here only more burnings and death will come for we remember Nervington and shall never soon forget.

Finally my lovely May I hope you are well and continue to write me, for your letters and thoughts have kept me going all this time and without them I feel I wouldn’t truly know what I’d be fighting for. Well the osladian bombardment is starting again we must be prepared. Write me soon.

Love, Nathaniel.
The last message received by May Throne from Private Nathaniel Greene as he died on the cold morning February 24th 1900.

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February 26th,1900
6th Army HQ
General Harrington’s Tent

The general rubbed his eyes as he looked over the map, the very same he’s been looking at for hours now, the only difference is the silence as with nightfall the osladian offensive cease which allows for some R&R. The Genera had heard reports of faltering at the southern front and now in the north this month long offensive has put his men on overdrive. Something would have to be done to relieve the men and seeing as the Zellonian Royal Navy has been of no help in cutting off supplies it would come down to Zellonian might and strategy that would be needed to win this war. It was at that moment that Captain Cutler came through the tent. With the proper respect the captain took off his hat and gave a salute before cutting to the chase. “General,” The captain sighed “I know things look down but I may have a solution.” The captain walked up to the map and began pointing at positions. “Sir, I believe if we stationed men along here and pulled from here to rein force we maybe able to keep our fighting chance.” The General shook his head. “I was thinking of something far more risky. If we pulled from here and moved along here we’d be able catch them by surprise no?” the captain eyes widened “Sir, you wouldn’t risk that would you men would be slaughtered.” The general looked at the captain dead in the eyes “We need to win this war captain, I believe this will work prepare the men. Pick the finest for this task come april we move.” The captain saluted and rushed out to make the preparations while the general wrote to Hawkthrone.

The government has issued a press note in which they have made official their response to the Zellonian try of negotiation. The Kalpian foreign minister Vinzenz Felix Greenberg said the following.

"We the Kalpian Republic care a lot for our soldiers, they are our brothers, our fathers, and sons, yet the Zellonian offer is nothing but a desperate attempt to get us out of the war, as such, we would rather propose other solution about the treatment of prisoners of war. We propose that all captured soldiers will remain as prisoners of war until the war is over, when there will be negotiations to decide the release of those prisoners, we would also like to arrange an exchange of prisoners for March 23rd in said exchange we will pay $100 for every prisoner of war that is released and arrives at Kalpia safely. This is the offer that we have sent to Zellonia and hope that in their right minds they accept it. "

Some of the people were relieved to hear these, having the hope that if they exchange of prisoners went through they would be able to see their own once again.

Nikolai woke suddenly, his chapped lips taking in a lung full of cold Zellonian air. Looking around him, and up at the grey sky above, Nikolai could tell he had only slept a few hours at best. Ever since his regiment was moved to the front, and assigned to the god forsaken offensive, he didn't think he'd slept a full night. At around five A.M every morning the artillery brigades would begin their morning ritual of firing at the city and receiving return fire from the groggy Zellonian field guns, wherever they were. To say this made sleep impossible was an understatement, as by five thirty every man was awake and preparing for the day. Mornings in the trenches were an odd spectacle, soldiers stepping over each other as they woke to the morning artillery fire, gulping down the morning water ration before it was stolen by someone else, and silently waiting for the morning whistle.

However, today the whistle didn't come. Every day for a month, that damned whistle sounded and a new bloodbath started. A uncomfortable silence remained, and the men looked amongst each other for answers. Finally, by six A.M, a runner came down the muddy trench line.

"The 4th Oslograd Guard and the 8th Kurakka Guard are being relocated further north up the line. Orders are to pack up and move immediately. Your position here will be taken up by the 5th Volovichi." The young boy stumbled out, grabbing a fistful of the muddy trench wall to balance himself as he breathed.

Pytor, the new Podpraporshchik of Nikolai's squadron, was the first to respond. Rising to his feet and removing the pipe he had stolen from a dead Zellonian from his mouth. "Aye, inform the Polkovnik the 22nd squadron will begin moving immediately."

The runner quickly nodded and continued down the trench, continuing to yell his message.

"Alright then, new orders it sounds like. Start packing up whatever personal items you've still got and start marching up the trench, least Denisovich hear we're slacking." Pytor said nonchantly, sticking the dead man's pipe back between his lips and slapping his recently acquired officer's cap onto his head. Nikolai remembered when Pytor had been promoted to Podpraporschik, it was an immediate promotion after Roman died to a Zellonian barrage during their counter offensive. Had it really only been a month?

"Come on Nikolai, move it. Holding up the line is the last thing we need right now." Maksim, a gruff older man with a likely unapproved beard, grumbled as he pushed past Nikolai, shoving the smaller man aside.

Within the hour, the entire regiment would be again moved. Their purpose for doing so unknown, however word quickly spread throughout the line that General Yakovich was attempting something new in the face of morale and supplies plummeting.

Gotthard was a man who celebrated triumph like no other but who also understood that sometimes it was best to stop the celebration for more important matters, who like many Kalpians knew that the fallen had to be taken care of and prayed for, it was them and no other that made the present possible thanks to their sacrifices in the past, such was the religious doctrine of "Mirnism" the monotheist religion of Kalpia, and Gotthard was a devout, same as his wife and some of his fellow officers.

The victory against the Memoitals and Radenans, was indeed glorious but many Kalpian soldiers had died in the battle. The dead of soldiers under his command was something that Gotthard had not seen since the war against the Radenans back in the 1870's. His memories of the war came back to him along with the feeling of glory that he felt when he was parading in the streets of Arsech, that was when he was younger, and now he felt repented for all those soldiers that had died under his command for all those soldiers that he had treated as pawns in a game of chess, yet here it was no so different, the only change was that now he knew many of the soldiers personally and while he knew they were good and disciplined, many of them would still die in the coming days and the only real thing he could do for me was pray.

Like it was said before, on the night of the 6th before the Kalpian offensive started. He sent his officers to gather those who wished to pray for the fallen and together they prayed. Not only for those who had fallen but also for those who would fall in the line of duty for their country. A country that had raised them and given them both freedom and responsibility. If they Kalpians soldiers were known for anything besides their discipline and training, it was their sense of duty towards other Kalpians and their religiousness.

It was a night of silence for the 23rd one that would be remembered by those present for years to come. The next morning Gotthard personally saluted those men in the front. He promised them victory and glory and delivered to them a speech only recorded in the diary of one of the soldiers.

"Today, we are going to show our enemies that they should fear us and give up, for we fight for our brothers that have been captured by those damn Zellonians, we fight not only to keep the pride of our nation but for the families of those captured, for those who have died, for those that trust that we win, for those who love us and most importantly for our nation, if we are going to die we better take all the enemies we can with us. Glory to Kalpia and it's people!!"

Empire of Violette

Hugo Dutoit slammed his fist down on the table of his quarters, the shifting of the wood as he struck it inadvertently sending a glass of wine falling to the floor with a shatter. His grey old eyes, equal parts tired and livid, watched the stain form for a moment, but then turned towards the window, his body following behind him as he gazed out at the fleet in the harbor. God damn what the Admiralty had to say—he'd never been more sure of anything in his life. It was far too convenient for it to happen now, so soon after the assignments, against a ship carrying so much military cargo. They had to know, those inhuman scum in Senryu, they had to have spies left somewhere, somehow, despite all that was being done. The more than slightly racist old general wished that he could have every last Hironese in the colony shot, but not even that would be enough. They could have spies—traitors—among the Kikitomi, too. Yet his hands were tied there; General Féret, that misguided fool back in Confluence, had been given strict orders from whatever ponce was in charge in the Ministry of the Army these days to end any 'mistreatment' of the Kikitomi. Hugo had come to begrudgingly accept that they were at least somewhat useful, maybe two or three of their finest veterans in the Reserves as good as a green Veletian lad. Yet, what good did that do when half of them were traitors to the cause? Was keeping the locals appeased truly worth the cost of endangering the colony, of endangering the thousands of Veletians that dwelt on it, that defended it each day from the Imperium's scourge?

Grabbing his cushioned seat over from the table he'd nearly shattered and dragging it near the window, Dutoit grimaced, watching the moon rise over Sandao harbor. The sight reminded him of the coming of night back home in Labelle, at the far end of the world from here. He'd never cared for this, for peacetime, for dealing with these Settumese and constantly trying to crush rebellions before they started. He wanted nothing more than to take the fight to them. To skip the shore to Hiron, a division at his back, and take on the Imperium where they slept. A rifle in his hand, ten thousand more held by the good fighting men behind him, the roar of the artillery cracking through their lines as he charged. The sight of Senryu in ashes filled Hugo's eyes as they closed, the roaring fire of the death of Hiron filling the islands skies and his own nostrils with smoke, the shrieks of the womanly, ill-prepared Hironese army screaming into his ears as they fled for the hills. Thoughts floated through his head of how he'd be famous for his exploits, of the names he'd be given in Violette as he was hailed a national hero. Hugo Dutoit, the Bane of Senryu. Hugo Dutoit, the Man-Who-Broke-Hiron. Hugo Dutoit, the warrior that slew a million fucking Heer shits with his own bloodied hands. The general would love nothing more than to open his eyes and see an armada of Hironese ships on the horizon, about to land every last Heer that ever lived on Sandao's shores, one bullet in the Garrison's rifles for each and every one of them to step up and bite.

When his eyes opened, he was disappointed.

February 7th, 1900, Yufutsu, Hiron

Casimir Świętosławski took his first step onto Hironese land in the port city of Yufutsu, and took a moment to look all around himself. Hundreds of boats and likely thousands of fishermen were navigating the waters of port, unloading fish or loading supplies, and dealing with merchants on the docks. Dozens more ships of various uses were steaming in and out of port, carrying thousands of people. A mixture of rather ancient style ships and modern steamers. All of it was incredibly foreign to Casimir, who had taken the risk by sailing across the world to Settumu to escape the invasion of the Karumi. Dozens of other migrants streamed past the stationary man as some Hironese immigration officials motioned for Casimir to move onward.

Yufutsu itself was surprising to Casimir, which was clearly steeped in tradition. A number of temples and castles seemed to rise into the sky, and the urban sprawl of one- to two-story buildings made almost entirely of wood spread out in all directions, even beginning to touch the nearby mountains. But it was a sight Casimir would have plenty of time to see as he was ushered into an immigration office.

Within it, a clerk seemed to quickly look over his documents and then spoke in Taran with a smile, "Welcome to Hiron, Citizen," before motioning for the scientist to continue onward. He continued onward through a door whereupon a woman suddenly came up to him, speaking in his own native language, "Welcome to Hiron, Casimir Świętosławski. If you follow me, I shall take you to your lodgings and give you all necessary papers for daily life here in the Imperium."

For a moment, Casimir was surprised, but then he noticed the other immigrants being attended to by their own assistants, and realized the reality of the situation. All of them were academics or otherwise respected people in their field, and the Imperium knew who each and every one of them was. In some ways, it was stunning, "Of course, thank you."

The pair left the office and took cart pulled by a rather muscular Hironese man. All around them, Hironese people flooded past, many of them stopping to look at the foreigners before moving onward. The assistant explained, "The people here in the port are not too used to foreigners, but if you travel to the countryside, they will all be surprised and try to welcome you. Almost no countryman has seen a foreigner, as your peoples rarely travel beyond the port cities. This influx of foreigners is actually something that the Emperor himself has come to see, and you are invited to a banquet along with the other immigrants later tonight at Yufutsu Castle."

Casimir raised his eyes further, "The Dragon Emperor himself? I suppose that would be a good political move, coming to meet the first immigrants. I've read Hiron has mostly been insulated for possibly thousands of years."

Agreeing, the woman nodded, "It is true. Other than the Meung and nearby countries, Hiron has mostly kept to itself. But we were dealing with the Sengoku Era and all the internal strife back then."

They talked further at length about Hiron, Hironese manners, and all manner of other topics before arriving at Casimir's humble abode. It was a simple one-room apartment with traditional mats, but it was clean and well cared for. The otherworldly charm managed to get to Casimir who found himself smiling at the spectacle of it all. But it was cut short as he had to drop his luggage off and attend the banquet.

At Yufutsu Castle was surprising amount of diversity. Tarans, Veletians, Seronans, even Meungese were present, all sitting together at a number of tables as beautiful Hironese women waited on them, bringing them numerous courses of fine foods and delicacies. And at the head of it all, the young Emperor sat in a throne overlooking the group, eating as they ate and inviting various immigrants up to speak to him.

Suddenly Casimir himself was requested as an esteemed physicist, to which he approached the Emperor and bowed in the Continental way. Before Casimir could introduce himself, however, the Emperor laughed, Casimir's assistant translating, "Hello, Casimir Świętosławski. I've read some of your work, which is quite the accomplishment considering I have almost no free time at all! Your considerations on Gravity are particularly interesting, and I hope you will train many of our of people to be as productive as yourself as well as helping the Imperium to prosper scientifically! Tell me, how do you feel about the Imperium so far? Is there anything we can do for you?"

The physicist shook his head abruptly, "No, sir, you've done far more than I could have ever expected. The welcome here has... I might say, has even been better than any I've received at home, bless those poor bastards. I worry daily for the fate of my friends back home, but I'm beginning to hope they will join me if possible. I look forward to working with the Hironese people and pushing the envelope of science further here."

The Emperor paused for a moment, listening to the assistant translate, before continuing, "Hmm, that is very unfortunate. The problem with the Continent is that many of those nations cannot simply defend themselves with a navy like the Imperium can. I am proud to say no foreign army has ever successfully landed on our shores. And I will also say that although you will probably disagree with some of my sentiments towards Karum, know that I pay them some lip service for political reasons. Remaining objective in my assessments is extremely important to the running of the Imperium. You shall have my full support at Senryu International once it's finished next year. Here, take a photo with me, you'll be able to brag to your family back home that you met one of the most powerful men in the world!"

Jokingly, Casimir stated, "You're quite young for a man, sir, especially in comparison to myself," before realizing that he may have offended the Emperor.

Yet that faux pas seemed not to occur as the young man laughed a few moments later, declaring and patted Casimir's back, "You're not wrong! Now come!" The pair stood together, shaking hands as they posed for a photo, the Dragon Emperor of the Imperium, and esteemed physicist Casimir Świętosławski.

February 13th, 1900, Sund, Veletian Settumu

Iori fell, exhausted into the bed, breathing hard as she looked at her lover who immediately placed some tobacco into his pipe and lit it, taking a few puffs. She spoke to him in nearly flawless Veletian, "You're as satisfying as ever, Franny."

'Franny' grumbled at the nickname and glared at the Hironese woman, "You know I don't like you saying that, woman."

"Oh, forgive me, Francois D'Leree, who art so great," suddenly she hit him upside the head with a pillow, which he shrugged off, choosing instead to admire the way her body moved instead of retaliate before getting to his feet and walking to the bathroom with a simple, "I need to piss."

When she heard the door shut, the woman quietly got to her feet and stepped over to D'Leree desks, taking a look at the papers thereupon whilst listening for the return of D'Leree. Various orders were on it, patrol movements and such, most of it she already knew since the Veletians weren't exactly on point when it came to information security. Before the man returned, she was lying back in the bed, smiling at the officer and inviting him back.

February 14th, 1900, Sund, Veletian Settumu

An old, decrepit looking man covered in what were practically rags shuffled through the bustling streets in Sund as the Sun hung high overhead at noon, begging for assistance to eat another day as people passed by. Few noticed him. Even fewer gave even the slightest amount of money to the needy man. Almost no one noticed that he was carefully watching the movements of the Veletian Colonials, nor did they pay much attention to his other compatriots located throughout Veletian Settumu.

As the Sun finally began to decline and set in the West, the old man made his way into a small pub, buying some water and bread with a little of the money earned from his begging. The pub was filled with a variety of patrons, mostly Kikitomi, some Colonials, but also a few loud Veletian officers making a ruckus with song and drink in one of the corners. They weren't too concerning to the old man, who'd seen them a few times, and the less attention he payed to the soldiers, the less attention they'd probably pay to a beggar.

A woman came to sit next to the beggar, buying him another drink as she frowned and peered over at him, "Are you doing alright, old man? Is there anything else I can get you?" Patting his back to try to comfort him, ostensibly no one noticed the small letter that passed from the woman's sleeve into the beggar's pocket.

The elderly man shook his head, smiled brightly with almost black teeth at the woman, and said in a hoarse voice, "Not at all, young lady. But thank you for the drink." Seemingly satisfied, the woman patted him again and made her way out of the pub, disappearing into the night.

The Moon continued to rise onward, until the man left the pub at well past midnight, strolling towards his home on the outskirts of civilization. Yet unbeknownst to him, it would seem that the officers had taken an interest in the apparently Hironese beggar and the unusual encounter from earlier, led by what must have been a paranoid man. The beggar could hear them tracking him as he wound through the streets, eventually leaving the city and entering a small rowboat which he took to an island. The officers were relentless in their pursuit, though they were trying to be careful despite their drunkenness, Damn. Looks like my cover is about to be blown. Let's hope that exit path is open.

Making his way quietly to the shore of the island, the beggar coming to a stop on the sand as the officers finally made themselves known, one shouting, "Stop!"

Turning about slowly with his hands together, the aged voice came to them, "How can I help you gentlemen tonight?"

"You a- are, suspected, of being a saboteur! An... and we shall take you, under arrrrest!" The same voice from earlier, this one apparently a Lieutenant. Eyeing them quietly, the beggar assessed the situation as the five men approached him. All five were clearly drunk, it was incredibly dark with an almost New Moon, and the range was close. The issue, of course, was that these men would almost certainly remember him if they lived since they weren't quite that drunk and try to find him, and if he killed them, an investigation would almost certainly ensue and the man might be caught. Either way, his cover was blown and the man needed to extract.

The officers were talking amongst themselves as they approached to within grappling range, clearly not thinking the situation through, when suddenly one's arm fell to the ground. He scream in agony and dropped to the sand, "M-my ar-" his cries were cut short by a blade slicing through his neck. The remaining four men stood in shock as what had been an old beggar before was now some kind of fucking ninja-swordsman wielding a blade that had dropped out of his sleeve.

The second man found his belly sliced apart, his entrails spewing out as shock quickly began to set in. By that time, the men had finally begun to draw their pistols. It was to no avail, however, as the third man lost his hand, was sliced multiple times through the torso, and then used as a haphazard shield when the remaining three men opened fire.

Tossing the corpse off himself, the beggar leap forward into action, immediately slicing a hand off the Lieutenant and cutting him vertically in such a way that his own intestines began to spill out as well. The Lieutenant dropped to the sand in agony as well, trying desperately to keep his organs firmly inside his body as the beggar rushed the fifth and final man who had turned tail and decided his life wasn't worth this bull shit. He didn't get far as the 'elderly' man brought the hilt of his blade down hard onto the back of the runner's skull, knocking him out.

Lying in the sand crying for dear life, the Lieutenant glared angrily at the likely Hironese bastard as the man cut his blade threw the air, sending most of the blood splattering to the sand before wiping it with the rags of his clothing and returning the sword to its place in the beggar's sleeve. Without so much as a second glance at the five Veletians, the beggar disappeared deeper into the island. Soon enough, the shore party from the destroyer VS Amourstar came ashore to find the men, followed shortly by more marines and then the Amourstar itself.

Within the foliage of the island, the beggar ripped off his mask and tore away his clothes, revealing an incredibly toned and muscular Settumese man. Pausing for a moment to read the letter of the woman and then tearing it apart and burying it, he carefully made his way towards the shore, rolling in mud to hide his skin whilst he snuck past Veletians and dug something up at the shore. He made it quite a ways out into the ocean before the Veletians realized what was happening and opened up on him. A bullet managed to find its way through his calf, forcing the agent to grit his teeth as he took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface of the water.

Close to seventy meters away, a small reed-like tube appeared in the water, the agent taking a few breaths before once more swimming onward. Significantly further out in the ocean, the agent took one final deep breath and swam down, finding what he sought. Twisting open the hatch and entering the airlock, the water was shortly drained as breathable air entered. Ignoring his bleeding calf, the Hironese man sternly watched as another hatch opened, an Imperial Sailor greeting him in Hironese, "Well, you look like you've had a wonderful time."

February 17th, 1900, Senryu, Hiron

Dragon Emperor Ryugo Shuu sat momentarily with his circle of ministers as a secretary entered and bowed deeply as she explaining, "My Lord, I am relaying the words of the Director of the Hidden Arm. There's been an incident. One of our agents got into a scuffle in Veletian Settumu and had to kill three officers and gravely wound another. The Veletians will undoubtedly respond very unfavorably to this situation. Do you wish for us to withdraw?"

Shuu waved his hand as if waving away the Director's question, "No, proceed, but simply be careful as always. We must be prepared in the event of war with the Empire of Violette. I am surprised the Hidden Arm made such a mistake, but my faith remains in you. You have always served me and my predecessors well, and I hope you shall continue the Hironese tradition of espionage with... better results." The secretary bowed once more and left the chambers of the Emperor to carry his reply onward.

February 22nd, 1900, Senryu, Hiron

A great crowd had assembled near the Palace, awaiting another proclamation by the Emperor himself. Supposedly this one was going to be particularly important, and reporters had gathered en masse to record His Holiness's words. Murmurs went silent when the Emperor suddenly emerged, coming before them, and spoke, "My people, I come before you today to decry the foolhardy actions of the Veletian Empire! When before, I thought they would bring true justice to the Governor of Veletian Settumu, Droulez, they merely stripped him of his rank and assigned him to a civilian position! This is not true justice! This man oversaw the peddling our women, of Kikitomi women, and despite the Imperium's issues with the Kingdom of Meung, Meungese women, against their will! None of his subordinates received True Justice either! All of these men should've hung for their crimes against the Hironese People! This is an affront to all of us in Settumu, and I shall not stand for it! They think themselves to be so mighty that the persecution and denigration of our women is not a crime that requires the death penalty!? Well, today, I send word to the Veletian Empire: Allow Droulez and his accomplices to be tried and judged under Hironese law, or face severe repercussions! I give you my word as the Dragon Emperor, that will we have these sons of bitches brought to heel! To the Imperium!"

Great shouts of agreement filled the air as the Hironese people present found their hearts moved with anger and vitriol, the news no doubt quickly spread throughout Hiron via both newspapers, word-of-mouth, telegraphy, and public speakers who would relay the information to the illiterate. A heightened sense of unity seemed to entrance them, but behind closed doors, the Emperor once more confided with his advisors.

"Our provocations of the Veletians are unlikely to go unanswered, My Lord, and I fear that the Army is nowhere near ready to handle their forces," complained the Minister of the Army, who was quickly silenced by the Ministry of the Navy, "Their forces shall never set foot on these lands. And let's be honest, the Veletians don't want to fight us. They know that they will lose the naval war, and they know what that will do to their prestige. It will weaken them in the face of Tara and all the other Great Powers, and who knows what will happen to their colonies. Perhaps we'll even get to 'liberate' Veletian Settumu in the peace deal."

The Emperor raised his hand to both of the Ministers, "I don't particularly care for Veletian Settumu, but if we take control of it, so be it. Winning a naval war against the 'Grand' Veletian Empire alone would be plenty. I would love for the Imperial Navy to cut its teeth on a true threat like them. And let's be honest, an invasion of Veletian Settumu is highly unlikely with the piss poor performance of our ground forces."

The Minister of the Army blushed for a moment and quickly prostrated himself before the Emperor, "I am as always sor-"

Ryguo almost immediately shut him down, "ENOUGH. I do not wish to be treated like some God behind closed doors. I am your Emperor, and my word is law, but I am still a man. We shall address the Army's issues soon enough. But first, we have other matters to discuss..."

March 9th, 1899, Sandao, Veletian Settumu

The Sun was once more setting on the Veletian Settumese colony as a trio of men sat together around a table. The eldest one, and clearly the leader, spoke up, "Alright, the ship's almost here. Our orders are simple, sink the fucker. It's going to be an easy enough job considering the thing is full of explosives and it wasn't exactly designed to take even a minor hit." The leader pulled out a schematic of a ship, and then pointed at one spot, "We'll set the charge on the hull here, right next to a particularly dense bulk of mines. Eagle, you'll keep an eye out. Whisper, you're with me, you're going to carry the other side of the charge. We move when the Moon's light will cast a large shadow on that side of the boat. Dismissed."

Hours later, the team were in position, watching the Gloire carefully. Veletian soldiers were on high alert as always these days, having been kicked into a swarm by last month's screwup, but this team was determined to deal a heavy blow to the Colonials. Eagle watched as ordered as Whisper and Dragon descended into the water with the charge, using tubes to breath as they held the explosive between them and approached the side of the Gloire. When they got close enough, the pair carefully brought the charge to the hull until magnets attached it, set the timer, and then swam away. Ten minutes later, the group had disappeared into Sandao as the charge's explosion caused a chain reaction that shredded almost the entire ship as well as many of the surrounding buildings.

March 11th, 1900, Zhumei, Gojong

The gates on the Hironese Embassy to Gojong flew open to fanfare as the Dragon Emperor himself took the first step from technically Hironese land onto Gojong land, having just finished closed door talks with King Yi Ja-chun to determine the future of Hiron-Gojong relations, yelling to the crowd from a podium shortly thereafter, "Today marks the beginning of the future of Hiron-Gojong relations! Today, I come before you to welcome you to freedom! No longer do you have to toil under the tyranny of Meung, resigned to backwards policies and abhorrent leaders! Led by King Yi Ja-chun, a man who once lived in Hiron itself, you can finally survive and thrive! And the Imperium of Hiron shall do everything in its power to ensure that Meung never again lords over you, pulling strings and making you dance like puppets to their tune, I promise you this! Together, we, Hiron and Gojong, shall march towards the future! To the Imperium! To Gojong!" Cheers sounded throughout the crowds as the people breathed a collective sigh of relief. With the Imperium of Hiron at their backs and Meung having let them be, the nearby threat of Settumese Tara would be diminished and they could focus on their daily lives.

Unbeknownst to the Emperor, the Gloire had exploded just two days prior.

Back in the Kalpian Republic the Department of Military Police works in the next issue of "The Kadet", a task they were assigned by the General Staff, in order to support the war morale of the soldiers at the front and the families at home. The editor of this newspaper was Gottlieb Adi Karl a professional who had studied "the Sciences of Information" at the National University of Arsech, he had been hired by the head of the department Bastian Gebhard Gerst in order to help improve the quality of the "The Kadet".

The first edition made by Gottlieb was just after the battle of the Krepina Forest, a victory for the Kalpian army that would sure help to increase morale both in the homeland and in the front. Stories about the battle were compiled by the Department's reporters in the front, some were obviously exaggerated and Gottlieb made sure to tone down a bit in order not to make too fantastic but keeping the heroicness and sacrifice that was made by the soldiers of the 23rd.

He was even more lucky to get an interview from Gotthard himself, the general in command of the 23rd. He basically said that he expected a swift victory soon enough and that the Zellonians, Radenans or Memoitals couldn't keep up with Kalpian soldiers on the battlefield. he even praised some of the actions by his soldiers and officers considering them as heroic. This all helped construct the articles for the newspaper.

He finished with the headline "Victory in Krepina" and then it was sent to the front and distributed to the army in Kalpia. Slowly but surely, more support was accrued for the war reopening the door of another daring operation by the Kalpian Army that had learned their mistakes.

March 24th
The company Leikap Corp. unveils the Leikap D.B.-I. In 1895, the first four-stroke engine was ready for production. The 138 cc (bore 50 mm, stroke 70 mm) single cylinder engine with a surface carburetor produced 0.5 HP at an engine speed of 1500 RPM, a remarkably high speed for the time. For comparison: Veletia's Le Parnand reached 240 RPM, the Redanian Reitwagen motor ran at maximum 750 RPM. Johan Jost found out that the glowplug ignition was the obstacle to higher speeds. He developed a high voltage ignition system for the motor with circuit breaker. The dry battery for the ignition is located under the upper frame tube (in the case of a motor tricycle); ignition timing could be adjusted with a small lever. Side valves were driven via a gear-driven camshaft, with automatic snifting valve activation. The advantage of the design should have been very early (0-5 degrees before top dead centre) opening inlet valve. The cylinder head was removable and bolted with four bolts on the crank case. The weight of the existing cast iron engine including all auxiliary units amounted to less than 20 kg. "The benefits of this engine were simplicity and ease."

The D.B.-I motor tricycle went into production in February, 1900 weighing just under 80 kg, with an output of 1.5 HP at 1,800 RPM from its 211 cc motor, although the engine had already been established in a prototype tricycle in 1895. The tricycle with track width of 92 cm was chosen, because according to Jost "a bike appeared too fragile for this purpose." The drive was achieved via a pair of gears from the motor directly to the rear axle. A differential balanced the different curve radii. The relatively high purchase price amounted to 1000 to 1500 Kalpian marks.

March 25th
Rations for Voskeyra Army Group North run out. Soldiers begin looting the already embarrassed citizens of Kreogen for whatever they can get their hands on. The Marnish Offensive, a Zellonian attack through Marnland into the Voskreya flank begins to pick up speed as Osladian soldiers without rations are forced onto the defensive. Kalpian soldiers of the 23rd Infantry Division in the south maintain their full ration and continue entrenching outside of Vorl.

March 26th
The Socialist Party is founded in the Tsardom of Radena by a committee meeting in Sloslia from members of the Social Democratic and National Agrarian parties. It's membership is 317.

March 27th
The flooding of the drydock of the Imperium of Hiron's pre-dreadnought Eiyuu mean extensive reworkings must be done on the ship. It is delayed an additional six months and the drydock is considered unusable.
- [Event: Imperium of Hiron loses 1 Dockyard Level down to 9,000 tons.]

March 28th
In the Empire of Violette, the government finally votes and approves the third Pinnacle Programme bill, allocating new funds and national operations to job training that will go into heavy industry, shipping and railways. These bills allocate new funds for several private companies to be able to hire, train, maintain and expand their employee bases within the year. Additionally, the bill appropriated several tax credits to several leeward inventors who fawned over recently purchased motorized tricycles and the idea of les voitures.
- [Event: Empire of Violette receives +$64,000/Year, +1 to Sandao Imperial [1] (Field Guns) [Privatized], +1 to Gracieux S.A. [1] (Shipping) [Privatized] and Creation of Parnand Automobile de Violette (P.A.V.) [1] (Automobiles) [Privatized].

March 29th
The first immigrants from the Kingdom of Gojong begin entering the Imperium of Hiron. Due to loosened immigration laws from last year, the first thousand Gojong immigrants arrive, among them is Gojong physicist and naval expert Park Moo-Young Han, who is immediately hired by the Imperial Hironese Navy to continue work on several of his ideas regarding submersible mines.

March 31st
As part of the third Pinnacle Plan, legislation took effect in Violette, reducing the workday for Veletian women and children from 12 hours to 11 hours. The law provided further that on April 1, 1902, the workday would go to 10 1⁄2 hours, and to ten hours by April 1, 1904. This law does not effect Thecian workers.
- [Event: Empire of Violette receives -1 Relations with Thecian Minority. +$11,000/Year.]

---

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April 2nd, 1900, Yufutsu, Hiron

Foreign Minister Miyagawa Tashiaki sat in front of a small table with two diplomats flanking him, taking a sip of his sake and discussing two matters which were particularly important to the Imperium. Looking to the one at his right, he explained, "Dzutsu, you are to set sail with a number of merchant ships to travel to the Tsardom of Radena. Offer them $2,000,000 for 200,000 of their rifles."

Diplomat Dzutsu seemed to cringe at that offer for a moment, drinking his own sake before complaining, "But sir, their rifles are even worse than ours."

Miyagawa waved him off, "That is true, but there are reports that the Imperium may be in need of the rifles before the new designs are available and in production. In addition to this, I want you to approach their Tsar himself or his representative and offer the new 700 ton destroyer schematics as a sign of good faith and relations between the Imperium and the Tsardom. You're going to sail with an escort of five destroyers, Tsuki, Takinaki, Reiryo, Megumi, and Goufuu. I'll be giving them very specific orders to avoid conflicts along the way."

Dzutsu simply nodded at this, before considering all the beautiful Radenan woman he could probably womanize while in the Tsardom, smiling to himself. It had been some time since he'd been there to broker the trade deal between the Imperium and the Tsardom. The Radenans had some hard alcohol too.

The Foreign Minister shortly turned his attention to the other diplomat sitting on his left, Jugo, "Jugo, you're to go to Kalpia and offer them $3,000,000 to station Army Advisors here in the Imperium for two years. Your escort shall be the destroyers Deishun, Dzutsun, and Abiotsu. They'll have similar orders as Dzutsu's escort. In your case though, a single ship besides the escorts shall be taken to Kalpia, and you should return with the advisors. Both of you must return with something, understood? Even if you have to offer somewhat more money."

Jugo nodded, taking a draught of water instead of sake, "So we're looking to pump up the Army then. I'll make sure to take care of it, as I'm sure Dzutsu will as well. We'll see who gets the better deal too."

Laughing harshly, Dzutsu playfully slammed the table with his fist, declaring, "You're on, Jugo!"

April 4th, 1900, Yufutsu, Hiron

The Diplomat Dzutsu is the first to leave port with his retinue of ships and escort, standing at the back of the boat and looking smugly at Jugo who watches him leave from the port. Foreign Minister Miyagawa is nowhere to be seen, having returned to Senryu for various issues. He looks forward to partying hard with the Tsardom's representatives and furthering relations between the two nations, as well as returning with enough rifles to arm the entire Imperial Army.

April 5th, 1900, Yufutsu, Hiron

Diplomat Jugo sets out as well with his escort of destroyers, signficantly more subdued in his behavior considering the rigidity of the Kalpians. His goals are, first and foremost, to acquire the advisors for as long a period of time and for as cheap as possible.

April 17th, 1900, Outskirts of Furuu, Hiron

The sounds of cicadas, chirping birds, rustling grass, and grumbling men woke General Saidzu in the early morning. Light from the Sun illuminated his tent, causing him to rub his eyes before getting out of the small futon lying on the ground and approach his water basin. Splashing some water on his face, the rather young man of 26 years found it easy enough to wake in the morning as he threw on his uniform and exited the tent. Walking over to General Meishii's tent, Saidzu yelled, "Wake up you old bag!"

An incredibly angry looking man with a permanent scowl of 42 years came storming out of it, still looking somewhat disheveled, "I am up, you insolent young fuck! Why do you need to harass me constantly?!"

Saidzu shrugged and adjusted one of the medals on Meishii's uniform, "Because it's easy. And because that's my job. I have to keep you feeling young somehow."

The older man slapped Saidzu's hand away and adjusted his medals himself, before walking away in anger. Behind him, Saidzu called out simply, "See you on the battlefield!"

Half an hour later, the two Generals stood on platforms in front of their respective forces, spread out among the fields outside Furuu, Saidzu having received control of the 1st through 6th Divisions, Meishii the remaining 7th through 13th Divisions.

General Saidzu was perhaps the most unconventional man in the Imperial Army, though that likely wasn't saying much considering the general incompetence of officers in the Hironese ground forces. A man prone to unusual maneuvers and trying new tactics, he had risen through the ranks mostly by just being competent in comparison to his peers, and his young age tended to infuriate those around him, particularly General Meishii, who was a dyed-in-the-wool conservative whose tactics were similar.

That was a fact Saidzu had every intention of taking advantage of as he yelled to his men, many of whom were hardly standing at attention, "Today, I stand before you sorry fucking excuses for an Army," leaders of each individual unit repeating his words in order to spread them throughout all approximately 130,000 men, "Many of whom cannot even remain properly at attention for more than a few minutes, who could probably not withstand a single charge by the Meung, whom would likely dishonor the Emperor, and declare that today, your life of ease ends!"

He thrust his hand out at the assembled men, scanning across them, "It ends, understood?! Today marks the beginning of the future of the Imperial Army as one of the premier forces present upon the surface of this world, one which will one day rival the Kalpians themselves in ruthless, murderous efficiency! When we enter a battlefield, the enemy will recoil in horror and scream, 'God save us from these crazy mother fuckers!' Why? Because we will be the baddest mother fuckers to ever live! We will drink blood and shit lead from how much killing we do!"

The men who at first seemed horrified at the thought of losing their comfortable nights suddenly began to find themselves invigorated as Saidzu continued onward, "Today marks the beginning of some of the hardest months of your lives, but after it, many of you will be far better! Let's begin! 1st through 6th Divisions, you're with me, the rest of you are with General Meishii!"

What followed was the establishment of a straightforward chain of command;

• General Saidzu
  
  • Major General Jurun of 1st Active Division
  • Major General Haigo of 2nd Active Division
  • Major General Asano of 3rd Active Division
  • Major General Hitagi of 4th Active Division
  • Major General Ubenito of 5th Active Division
  • Major General Senri of 6th Active Division
• General Meishii
  
  • Major General Irito of 7th Active Division
  • Major General Menki of 8th Active Division
  • Major General Nobun of 9th Active Division
  • Major General Futsuru of 10th Active Division
  • Major General Eigoki of 11th Active Division
  • Major General Ijino of 12th Active Division
  • Major General Uubuttsu of 13th Active Division

A simple private in the 1st Active Division, Ichiro Takagami, suddenly found himself thrown in practicing marching maneuvers, listening carefully to the element leader's orders. Anyone who slipped up got themselves and their entire element a series of exercises as punishment, with the regiment leader stepping on the back of the element leader as he exercised for failure to lead. Sweat beaded down the young man's forehead as he did his best to recall all his previous training, worrying intensely about fucking up. It was worse for the element leaders to be honest, but there would undoubtedly be hell to pay for the original offender. Of course, the punishment often didn't stop there, as often entire Divisions were forced to the ground as a pissed off General screamed in the ear of the Major General beneath him. It wasn't a fun day. The march following it wasn't fun either. None of it was fun.

April 20th, 1900, Furuu, Hiron

Ichiro finally managed to catch a bit of breath after being forced to march almost endlessly for two days as the two Armies separate along the coasts of Hiron. The 1st Army as it had come to be known had been ordered to entrench in the cliffs and shores of their homelands in preparation for the fake "landing" of 2nd Army, a fact which had Ichiro digging a machine-gun nest in the side of a fairly high cliff. It was strenuous work, breaking the dirt and rocks with a shovel and sometimes even a pickaxe. But at least it was safer than what some of the men of the 2nd Army below him were doing: learning how to mountain climb with full gear including climbing ropes and hammers.

The private looked down at the group, frowned, sighed, and got back to work as the men around him yelled at the private to pay attention and dig, lest the element leader come get on their ass. Squad leader Gukiro wasn't going to be doing any more pushups apparently.

April 21st, 1900, Furuu, Hiron

A whistle blew, quickly shaking Ichiro to his senses from sleep in the nest, "Holy shit, are we under attack already?! It's not even dawn!"

Gukiro yelled an affirmative and told the men to man to machinegun and open fire on the beach. It was kind of absurd, shooting blanks at their 'enemy', but the Generals were intent on making the war games as realistic as possible. There were even referees hovering nearby shouting at people, "You're dead!" whenever it was appropriate.

The M1899 Prager was a thing of deadly beauty as it 'lit' up the beach, spitting rounds at around 550 per minute. That was almost ten rounds per second. Though of course, if the machinegunner attempted to fire that much, they would be shortly smacked on the back of the head and told to fire a short burst at a time. Ichiro's job of course, was to reload the beast. Of course, carrying the ammunition was a bitch, even blanks.

The assault went on all day and ended with a congratulations to General Saidzu on a good defense.

April 21th, 1900, Furuu, Hiron

The men of 1st Army found themselves forced to march in the middle of the night onto the beaches, Ichiro carrying multiple boxes of ammunition whilst his allies carried either real rifles or wooden fakes, another absurd requirement of the Army for realism. It was a stunning sight though, thousands upon thousands of men spread out another beach. And in front of them, various traps and trenches awaited.

The whistle sounded almost immediately as the men of 1st Army rushed forward, trying to capitalize on their initial advantage. But soon enough, the machineguns of 2nd Army opened up on the beaches as well as a number of actual rifles and fakes. A referee came along and pointed at most of Ichiro's squad, yelling they were all dead, meaning they got to fall to the ground. Lucky bastards in Ichiro's mind.

Unfortunately Ichiro decided to also fall to the ground, ripping the Prager from his 'dead' buddy's hands and setting it up quickly, gettings the rounds in position and then chambering the first one. He looked down the sights at the nests ahead of him and began firing. It was going to be a long ass day, especially now that he had to lug this damn gun around as well as ammunition for it...

April 27th, 1900, Near Tomamae, Hiron

Many of the men of 1st and 2nd Army had transferred over to the island that held the city of Tomamae in order to practice jungle warfare as Ichiro sat next to his machinegunner buddy, slapping a bug that has landed on his face, "Fuck man, this really sucks. How can the climate here be so much worse than the mainland."

His friend shrugged, "Must be the whole surrounded by water thing. It rains on this particular island quite a bit."

Their talking was interrupted by the order from Gukiro to stand and march onward. It was tough work, trying to make one's way through that foliage. They continued on like that for a few hours until ordered to set up ambush along a more traversed path, figuring that General Meishii's men would take the easier path.

They did so not long after, getting metaphorically ripped to shreds by waiting machineguns and riflemen.

May 7th, 1900, Near Furuu, Hiron

Whilst much of the infantry concerned themselves primarily with maneuvers, discipline, and other matters, the field gun artillery of both the 1st and 2nd Armies had been spending much of their time perfecting an interesting art that General Saidzu said would work to catastrophic effect on the enemy. A number of targets were placed in an unoccupied field some distance away, sometimes in trenches, which could not be seen by the artillerymen due to either hills or raw range. A volley was fired. A series of observers, or sometimes one, would then use morse code using bright light boxes to adjust the artillery's fire. In this way, they could more accurately bombard and shred everything in the field using less ammunition. It was Saidzu's belief that this method of fire correction would result in horrible casualties for anyone foolish enough to dig in against the Imperial Army. The whole process also helped train the artillerymen.

May 8th, 1900, Near Furuu, Hiron

The infantry were once more digging trenches, this time two lines designed to have one trench overlooking another with firing positions into the one closer to the enemy lines in case that trench fell. Various other complex earthworks were involved as well, including barbed wire and fake mines. After they finished digging the trenches, the Armies took turns assaulting, and at night, explosives were even wired in safe places and detonated to simulate unending barrage by the enemy to condition the Imperial Army to such terrible conditions.

May 20th, 1900, Near Furuu, Hiron

Ichiro and Gukiro circled one another, clutching wooden stand-ins for rifles, the squad leader taunting the younger man, "Come on boy, come at you. You know you can kick my old ass."

The young private knew the sergeant was just fucking with him, but the conditioned muscles that had begun developing in his body twitched and he leapt forward, striking with the butt of the 'rifle' in an upwards arc before trying to bring what would've been a bayonet down onto the sergeant's neck.

Gukiro blocked the butt strike with his own rifle and then grabbed Ichiro's staff with his own hand, ripping it from the private and engaging Ichiro in a grappling fight that immediately went to the dirt. All around them, the squad cheered or jeered at the two, having begun to feel like an actual unit.

Ichiro found himself very quickly beginning to lose the fight as Gukiro almost had him an arm lock that the infantry had learned not long ago, but he fought back as best he could, pushing off the older man's legs and wrapping his body around the man's neck. The squad leader quickly had no choice but to submit and congratulate Ichiro in between gasps for air.

June 1st, 1900, Near Furuu, Hiron

It had been an incredibly tough two months, and if Ichiro was to be honest, it still wasn't going to end for a while. Yet already he could feel himself becoming remarkably tougher and learning to work with his unit significantly better. Already, they moved together much more like a cohesive organism, Ichiro and his team providing suppressive machinegun fire as the rest of the unit charged a hill or trench. To be honest, he was starting to enjoy being in the military.

June 15th, 1900, Near Furuu, Hiron

Finally though, things were beginning to die down as the men focused on squad-level maneuvers or hand-to-hand combat. Ichiro, however, had his turn with a real rifle, lying prone on the ground, looking down range at a series of human-shaped targets. The marksmanship instructors knelt next to him, "Now what I want you to do is not think too much about bullet drop. The targets are somewhere in the range of 50 to 200m, and at those ranges, there won't be too much drop, but if you miss low, you should adjust slightly upwards. What I want you to focus on is just aligning the sights of the weapon on the target, and pulling the trigger gently without jerking the weapon, understood? Don't anticipate the recoil."

"Hmm, okay..." muttered Ichiro. On his first shot, he missed wildly. On the second though, it landed close to the target as he got used to the sights and further instruction. Finally, on the third shot, it went clean through the center of mass. Ichiro smiled to himself, realizing it was actually enjoyable to fire this damn thing, and kind of thrilling to reach out and touch something at a distance. Marksmanship practice continued on for the rest of the day for Ichiro, with the latter part being firing under pressure from the instructors yelling at them, before they all rotated out for the next soldiers.

June 30th, 1900, Near Furuu, Hiron

After three months of nearly non-stop training, tearing up much of the countryside and sometimes the beaches as well, the men of the Imperial Army stood once more at attention. They were beaten, bruised, and in some cases, pushed to their limit, but they felt a solidarity with one another that hadn't been present before. General Saidzu stood smugly looking at General Meishii after having mostly beaten the old man as the pair surveyed the Imperial Army which gone from completely shit to probably something at least serviceable. Still, there was more work to do...

April 10th was a stressful day for the political environment of Oslad. Across the nation the masses came to their voting places and cast their ballots for their local representatives. In anxious silence, all parties waited for the results. In a unsurprising turn of events, by the 12th the ballots had been counted and the Unionists had scored a victory. In a Duma of 518 seats, the Unionists dominated with 270 to the Liberal-Democrats 223, losing over 25 seats to the Kadets and Agrarian Front, who both made gains themselves. It seemed the people had lost faith in the age of liberalism and Selidov's 'words over actions' style of leadership. However, the election wasn't over yet.

While the Union party had won the public vote, there was a crisis over who would lead the party. While the moderates on the left side of the bench called for Palkowski to lead, and thus keep a status-quo in leadership, the traditionalists rallied behind Count Yegorov and called for his ascendance to ministership. An assembly of Union leadership was called in Oslograd and a new vote would have to be held. It took three days of fierce debate and policy declarations from both Palkowski and Yegorov before a vote was made and the decision of leadership final. Of the 270 Union ministers, 128 voted for Palkowski and 142 for Yegorov. It was then final, The Count of Black would become Prime Minister of the Empire.



In the early morning of the 17th of April, Count Yegorov stepped into the Duma to thunderous applause from his traditionalist clique, and to silent glares from the moderates and Liberal-Democrats. Standing at the Prime Ministerial Podium, in front of both the Duma, the press, and the Tsar himself, Yegorov made his inaugural address.

"Fellow members of the Duma and our divine holy Tsar, I am humbled to be in front of you all today. As a youth, I was never a man of the right, my position was always on the left, and now it is at the centre of Osladian politics. I swear, to God and all of the Sladic people, that I will hold the title of Prime Minister with humility and honor. I will preside over this Duma, voted for by the people, to the best of my ability and will steer the vessel of this Empire away from the military and political disasters of the previous decade."

At this comment, an uproar occurred within the Liberal-Democrat bench and was countered by applause and cheers from the Unionist bench.

"And I will lead our holy Empire to victory in the ongoing war against the Zellonian menace and their mad King. I will lead an administration of action, no longer can our Empire falter to the sidelines while other nations walk over us economically and politically. We must return this crumbling nation to her roots, where we first lit and carried the flame of civilization to the savage lands of Boletaria, Loren, and Tangary. Together, here in this Duma, we shall relight the flame that the ages shall not again extinguish. We shall guard that scared flame, my friends, until it illuminates all the Empire and lights the path of mankind. Hail Oslad, and god save the Tsar."

After his speech, Yegorov privately assembled a new cabinet. Within only a few hours a large portion of the former cabinet had been purged, aside from Yegorov himself retaining his position as minister of economics and the interior and the recently appointed minister of naval affairs Renzo Carrano who remained on a contract to retain his position. Taking over for Count Rusak as the minister of foreign affairs was Lavro Blokov, an Osloadian businessman and moderate Unionist who was only chosen simply to keep the moderates at peace with Yegorov's administration. Taking over the minister of the army position was retired major general Semyon Teterev, a long time ally of Yegorov's and a traditionalist in both politics and military affairs. Together the two men would be replacing the former liberal-democrat members and firmly establishing a Unionist cabinet for the new administration.



The first act of the new government, after the cabinet reshuffle and a budget had been agreed upon, was the announcement of a new national railroad starting in the only industrial city of Tangary, Volovichi, and connecting the city to the coastal trade hub of Toboskoy and then Oslograd. The system, titled the 'Volovichi-Toboskoy Line' would establish a single connecting railway across the Tangarian steppe and would be the first of many industrialization efforts done by the Yegorov administration to bring his home province and the province of Loren to the same levels as Boletaria and Oslad-proper.

Starting in May, minister of naval affairs and Loren-national Renzo Carrano put forward his plan on how to utilize the naval budget to the Duma. In his plan, which had been signed off by Yegorov, Blokov, and the head of the admiralty Kozminski, Carrano prioritized the establishment of a new merchant-marine fleet and the expansion of the Oslograd and Toboskoy dockyards to better suit the construction of a modern navy. The price was hefty, but the Duma unanimously passed the naval budget request and arrangements for the building of new merchant vessels and the expansion of the Oslograd and Toboskoy imperial naval yards would be put into place by the beginning of Summer.

---

Being a military man himself, and arranging his cabinet to be largely military men as well, Yegorov demanded to be allowed participation in the organization and planning on the Zellonian front. Field Marshal Bogolov, despite utterly despising Yegorov's narcissism and ego, allowed the prime minister to attend meetings of the High Command in Oslograd and participate. In a bold move, the Count arrived with his entourage of military lackeys and essentially took over the meeting himself. Yegorov was shocked at the way Selidov had allowed the High Command to simply do as they wished, and decried the horrid state of affairs after personally seeing the disorganization and lack of clarity that was the supply-lines of the army group in Zellonia. After being briefed on the situation, Yegorov agreed to allow General Yakovich to retain his position as leader of the army group, despite originally claiming that Vasiliy Tokorev should take the position, and put forward his cabinet's ideas for the High Command to see. Of all of the suggestions, borderline demands, made by Yegorov, Boglov was personally impressed by Yegorov's plan to establish a Supply Corp and a new branch of the field army specifically trained to organize and establish proper supply lines for both the Zellonian front and all future war situations. Of course, Yegorov's idea came with a price. If a supply corp was to be established, it would be run by Yegorov's military clique, and not the Osladian High Command.

Arguing was ultimately pointless, as a request to establish a new branch of the armed forces would have to be authorized by both the minister of the army and the prime minister, both of whom obviously had come up with this idea to begin with. Thus Bogolov folded and accepted the Prime Minister's request. Starting in mid-April a new corp would be established and recruited for, the Osladian Supply Corp. A branch recruiting educated officers to assist in establishing and minimizing ration waste and losses while also ensuring the maximum usage of all available rations on a front. By June, ration officers would be sent to the front and would work as a form of military police, ensuring that rations were always being watched and that there was no cutting off the top or theft of vital foodstuffs and ammunition by soldiers and officers alike. Some within the High Command viewed this as Yegorov's first step in a full takeover of the military; and Bogolov feared they were right.

The year 1874, was a dreaded time for the Radenans, bringing back memories of nearly two hundred thousand dead and a humiliation like none other. The city of Sergat, formerly known as Sosodrov, had long been part of the Tsardom of Radena ever since the year 1645. Originally constructed as a military outpost with a small village attached to accommodate the families of the men stationed there, the population mostly consisted of two hundred native Radenans, a fourth of which actively served in the army.

This soon changed a little over a hundred years later, when massive gold deposits were discovered within a small mine near the city. This naturally attracted the attention of thousands of young and ambitious men, beginning to what is often referred to as the Great Migration. At first most migrants were native Radenans from nearby, bolstering the population by nearly twenty thousand. By the time five years have passed though, the population had grown to nearly a hundred thousand, most immigrants from the nearby countries of Kalpia and Kuralov. The city had little issues with the sudden influx of immigration at first, but over time the wealth began to run dry.

By 1843, nearly half the population had left the once prosperous city of Sosodrov leaving behind the many who were far too poor to leave themselves, most of which were native Kalpians. Feelings of being disenfranchised and abandoned by the Tsardom and with little help to revive the once prosperous and great city rebellion was almost inevitable.

December 8th, 1873 the citizens of Sosodrov, mostly native Kalpians seized the fortification along the city's walls, killing 8 Radenan soldiers in the process, and reportedly shouted the following from the rooftops “If Radena will not acknowledge the troubles of Sosodrov, then our fellow kin in the Republic of Kalpia surely shall!” Radenan troops quickly moved into the city to quell any sense of nationalism among the population, but by January 3rd 1874 the Kalpian Republic officially proclaimed the city of Sosodrov to be rightfully Kalpian and announced that the Tsardom Radena has invaded Kalpian lands. The war had begun.



It wasn’t long, before Kalpia responded to the Radenan presence within the city, nearly two thousand troops had garrisoned along the city caught unaware. By the time night had fallen that day, all but thirty Radenan soldiers had survived. This marked the first, in a long series of losing battles against the surprising military powerhouse of Kalpia. Both their discipline and skill in combat had proved to be a challenging foe to the Radenan army. Within the month, the cities of Melda, Canva, and Polnov have fallen.

By the time a year had passed, a military strategy was proposed by General Kalashnik Leonidovich, a well respected member of the Tsar’s old guard. The plan itself proposed the giving up expendable, yet seemingly strategic cities along the border in the north, such as Abocel and Zamocin. Once accomplished, utilizing overwhelming numbers, the troops would take advantage of the then stretched Kalpian lines, eventually cutting off Kalpian forces from the rest of their army entirely through one solid offensive. However, while strategically sound, the offer itself was outright denied by acting Mareșal Nosov Leonidovich, brother to the general due to seemingly unknown reasons. Rumors say it as an attempt to humiliate General Kalashnik Leonidovich, others that elder brother Mareșal Nosov Leonidovich truly questioned the viability of the plan.

With General Kalashnik Leonidovich's plans shelved and untouched, Mareșal Nosov Leonidovich given unconditional control of the Tsar’s Army proposed a different solution. Believing the Kalpian victories to be a simple fluke, and the fault of incompetent generals, such as his brother, he believed that the Kalpians would not be able to break the line holding onto Abocel and Glavnaya. However he believed that being desperate to make ground, they would likely attempt an assault in the north, as striking at the heart of the Tsardom of Radena would prove to daunting of a challenge for such a weak and dishonorable republic. As a result, he proposed weakening the southern front and leaving Glavnaya lightly defended, anticipating an assault on Abocel within the coming months.



This battle however did not come. As months passed and troops continued to be shipped north, the Kalpians noticed the slowly dwindling count of divisions along the southern line. Thus enacting a final push towards Glavnaya, resulting in a bloody campaign to the capital of the Tsardom lasting three weeks. Eventually ending with the Siege of Glavnaya and the burning of the Tsar’s Palace. With the capital occupied and the Tsar himself forced to flee the city to safety, by the time a week had passed offers of surrender were sent to Kalpia. The Treaty of Jovington was signed, officially ceding the city of Sosodrov to the Republic Kalpia, as well as forcing the Tsardom to pay $50,000,000 worth of reparations, officially putting an end to the long and humiliating conflict.

The hustle and bustle of Labelle's civilian docks in springtime

The small army of teamsters that had always crowded the docks of Violette's western and main port found themselves packed even tighter these days, dredgers and laborers and steel-workers alike populating near every square foot of space on the docks. The heat and light of flying sparks as metal was forged was somewhat distracting to them, but the scent of sweat as men hauled equipment to and fro just blended in—the seaside of Labelle had always smelled of sweat. Sweat, and mackerel. Yet in spite of the noticeable crowds, easily the most conspicuous of all the changes to the dockside was the giant towering behemoth of a steel crane being raised not far away. It was meant to service and construct those fearsome seafarers that dwarfed the fishing boats and small shipping vessels of the lesser docks: cruisers and destroyers, ships of war and conquest. The teamsters never touched those, their holds kept full by men in uniform. Yet, even as the load-carrying workers of the merchant docks were always in a throng carrying their shipments to port and to sea, the nexus of activity was now squarely on the navy shipyard.

The cause for the commotion was known to all. The People's Assembly back in Confluence, under the direction of Her Majesty the Empress, had began an infrastructural campaign to improve the empire's port facilities. It was nominally an economic and social measure—the Empress Tsirine even making a point of bringing in some out-of-work Threcian metalworkers to assist the project—but the ultimate purpose was clear. The Empire of Violette needed to greatly expand her naval capacity if she was to become even half as strong on the waves as she was in the fields. This was the long-awaited first step, and it seemed to be off to a good start. Work was steady, if uninspiring, and the foremen agreed it was likely to conclude on schedule. If any more evidence was necessary of the improvements' naval intentions, the presence of the Minister of the Navy in Labelle sealed the deal. Though the astute Rasse Portier was often in Labelle on ministerial work, this was different. He had arrived just as the construction had started in earnest, and he seemed destined to stay until it was completed too, even missing meetings of the Assembly to stay and observe progress. The Marine was finally on the way forward, and he had the good fortune to be helping it along.

“The Seljuk minority is by no means a new issue for the Zengid nation, they have been a thorn in the side of many Kings of old. The only difference I think we can see today is the propensity for the Seljuks to become organized as of late. Even into the twilight years of Ahmed the 2nd’s reign the discontent of the Seljuk people could be easily dismissed as a few radicals but now since the national organization of Seljuk rights it can no longer be brushed away and my personal hope is that Akbayar can resolve the situation before more unrest occurs.”
~ Aslan Hassan Professor of Zengid History at Agisil State University: March 16th 1900 Interview for the Zengid National Post





The Rise of Dalir:
After decades of continued discontent with their treatment of Seljuks under the Zengid state the Seljuk minorities discontent started to boil over. By the Mid-1800’s the million plus Seljuks seemed to be almost begging for a leader to channel their strife into political action. On February 5th 1885 many found their home within the ranks of the National Seljuk Rights Organization. Dalir Moridi born September 4th 1847 was not a Seljuk by law, born in Turasa a small mining village in Ghurid to a Ghurid father and Seljuk mother he narrowly escaped being a second class citizen. While officially he was within a more privileged class in Zengid society by fate of his father he would still become one of the Seljuk's most influential figures later in his life. Dalir had however experienced little of the the treatment of undesirable minorities in Zengid society in his early life. It wasn't until he left his hometown for Agisil to study Mechanical Engineering at the State University in 1870 that he witnessed it's toll. There the massive ghetto’s the Seljuk industrial labors were relegated to left him in shock being half Seljuk himself this event is considered the start of his push for Seljuk rights.

While Dalir was studying, he organized a Seljuk Labor Union in 1873. This was his first attempt to push for better labor conditions and higher pay for Seljuk minorities. This under Zengid law was an illegal organization as Seljuks where barred from, “Militant Labor Agitation” as a consequence not only was the union a clandestine organization but it’s only effective actions could take place with Seljuks in higher skilled positions (a rarity) since any labor action by a Seljuk layman would be grounds for immediate termination and there was no shortage of out of work Seljuk labors to take his place. This along with the reluctance of Seljuks in Agisil to join any sort of illegal Labor organization made the union quit ineffective for some time.

In 1879 however a breakthrough took place after the collapse of a mine owned by Kaya & Malas Mining Company left 100 Seljuk miners dead in his hometown of Turasa. Dalir and his Union of Seljuk Labor had an opportunity to create meaningful reforms. Dalir had gotten over Ten Thousand Miners to walk off the job on June 16th 1879 effectively shutting down Kaya & Malas's largest precious metals mine in Ghurid at the time. For nearly a month the strike continued, Kaya & Malas attempted to break the strike all attempts failed even when they attempted to bring miners from other areas of Ghurid, the towns inhabitants in a show of solidarity ran most of the outsiders out of town. Word spread that Ahmed the 2nd was going to send in the military to seize the mine if Kaya & Malas could not control their labor force and continue production as scheduled by the end of July. Finding no other options Kaya & Malas gave in they couldn't fire their whole Seljuk workforce or they’d risk reprisal from the town and they certainly wanted to prevent the nationalization of the mine though it might teach the Seljuks a lesson if the military had arrived. Dalir had won the miners of his birthplace better labor condition and an increase in wages. The real victory in the mind of Dalir however was the acceptance that Seljuk people can organize without fear of reprisals. This would soon translate into law or so Dalir hoped. The one major miscalculation of Dalir was that he believed he couldn't become a target of Kaya & Malas or the Zengid Monarchy. He after all was Ghurid. This may not have saved him from reprisal it was in the end still a saving grace for him.

January 2nd 1880:
Dalir Moridri was arrested in his residence in December 1880 and was awaiting trial he however was fortunate, as two of his allies in the union were executed and he would not share their fate. He however was only looking at five years in jail himself a far cry from the sacrifice that his Seljuk compatriots had to take. His years in jail steeled his resolve and had not killed his desire to continue the fight. His arrest and the execution of other important figures in the Seljuk community lead to a major Seljuk backlash and push for rights.
In mid-February 1883 in response to a long running series of protests and sit-in’s in Agisil by Seljuk organizations. Ahmed the 2nd signed into law the Seljuk minorities right to form its own labor and political organizations as long as they did not advocate violence again the Zengid state. He hoped this would calm down the situation and for a short time it did the intensity of discontent was quelled by this major victory. All good things must come to an end however.

February 5th 1885:
It hadn’t been long since Dalir Moridri had been released from prison but he did not feel it was time to rest he had to organize Seljuks and achieve Seljuk equality which was still far from reality within Zengid. The new organization the National Seljuk Rights Organization was christened Dalir along with surviving organizers of his now defunct labor union began putting their talents towards a broader goal of Seljuk rights. Dalir had great hopes for this organization and after a few successful actions over the years Dalir felt he was in sight of his end goals. This was about the change.

April 12th 1893:
A seemingly innocuous march was planned for this day which was why the eventual aftermath of the day was never foreseen by the National Seljuk Rights Organization. Toward the midpoint of their journey the marchers were greeted with a detachment of local law enforcement informing them the march was to be cancelled for security reasons. It is unclear how the events took place afterwards as many conflicting reports have been circulated but what is clear is what was supposed to be a simple march turned into a riot as unhappy marchers lashed out in anger as the tension escalated. The events gave an emergency legislative secession all the ammo they needed to roll back some of the unpopular rights granted by Ahmed the 2nd. While they stopped short of rolling back the Seljuk minorities new found rights entirely they severely limited them. This did not go over well with the Seljuk minority but the damage was already done.

February 5th 1900:
The first major protest in Agisil since the events of April 12th had taken place. Tensions are high this event is supposed to commemorate the 15th anniversary of the foundation the National Seljuk Rights Organization. A counter protest however brings things to a head a brawl breaks out between the groups and it devolves into a riot this event helps bring the Seljuk situation to the forefront King Akbayar’s mind. Many sit on the sidelines wondering where Akbayar will stand some are hopeful but many are unsure about the situation that teeters on the brink of organized violence.