GC 4Q1902

[Borys]

 4 October 1902

"This new Austrian king has succeeded where I have not, and mobilized some world opinion against Juan and his socialist masters", President Enrico Alizandro said with a hint of bitterness. "He is sending 'volunteers' to Spain; as is the UKA. I think it is reasonable to expect that Spain or the League will seek to prevent these reinforcements from arriving?"

"They ought to", Ricardo Alizandro agreed. "Two divisions can make a substantial difference if employed correctly. The catch would be that the League and Peeps would find themselves at war with the UKA or Austria, which would be worse than just letting the troops land."

"Are the Austrians in a position to take on the League at sea?"

"They've fixed up a good portion of their fleet since May. They might be able to do it", said Ricardo. "If they can block the Strait of Gibraltar, the League can't get in. Makes their task simpler, but doesn't help the UKA out at all."

"Regardless, if they make the effort, League forces at Cuba are bound to be affected", the President declared. "Benicio?"

Benicio Delgado nodded. "It is possible. My people are seeking information on their dispositions and the mood on the streets."

"Good - then we can plan to liberate Cuba very shortly", Alizandro announced proudly.

Delgado was barely able to maintain his normally neutral expression. "This may not necessarily be so, Senor President. There is a complication."

Alizandro stared at him. "What?"

Nonplussed, the intelligence officer explained, "Acting on a tip from a...foreign counterpart...I allocated some resources towards the Darien Canal project. My organization subsequently gathered evidence that demonstrates a French operation intended to delay the completion of the canal."

The men around the table gaped at him, apart from Ricardo Alizandro, who muttered, "Mierda..."

"This should not, in fact, come as a surprise", Delgado continued. "Everybody at this table knows Palpete's background. He would do this in a heartbeat if he felt it would better France, though in this case, I can only see it being a matter of pride."

"What evidence do you have?", Foreign Minister Torres asked.

"To begin, they've made at least one attempt to subvert or implicate senior personnel building the project. I believe this particular case was an attempt at implication, as the individual's loyalty bears up well under scrutiny", Delgado said. "We've traced the attempt back to one of a number of French merchant ships that are spending an inordinate amount of time loitering in the western Caribbean; their ultimate purpose remains unclear, however."

"Keep investigating", the President ordered.

"I am - but I will require additional commitments of funding in order to continue into the new year."

"You'll have it", Ricardo Alizandro declared. "I want all of you to come back to me with some ideas. Openly confronting the French is not an option; I need an alternative."
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 18 2006, 07:54 AM


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19 October: Aden

"Merciful God be praised", murmured Roberto Hernandez, Gran Colombia's local consul. He read the telegram a second time, just to be sure it wasn't one of Satan's cruel jokes, but it still looked genuine.

Now the question was, where was Teniente San Martino? The sooner Hernandez passed along the instructions, the sooner the nincompoop would be on a ship eastbound. There he was - out on the balcony, watching ships in the harbour. Writing his report.

"Teniente?", Hernandez said, "Could you come here for a moment?"

"Ah...Sir, can it wait? I'm examining a vessel moored offshore", the young officer - Hernandez's naval attache - replied, leaning forward. "Damn", he murmured.

"This is important, Teniente. Now, please", Hernandez answered with some exasperation.

"Fine", San Martino said dejectedly. He put the binoculars down on a table and prayed that the woman would still be out sunning herself when the consul was through with him. It'd been weeks since he'd seen a square inch of female flesh and he'd thanked several saints for the gift. "Ah...What is it, Sir?"

"I'm very sad to say", Hernandez began with a straight face, "That you have received new orders." He handed San Martino the telegram.

The young officer took it and read it aloud. "Take soonest steamer to Macau, stop. Report to MK Navy regarding Operation Ganso, stop. Operation Ganso rated Top Secret, repeat, Top Secret stop. Do not discuss with except with GranCom and MK military personnel, end." He looked at Hernandez. "The last time I saw the Chinese, they were trying to sink the ship I was on. Now I have to work with them?"

"Orders are orders", Hernandez replied with feigned sadness.
   
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Maddox    
Posted: Aug 18 2006, 11:17 PM


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Current Events.

Paris, a house of ladies with negotiable virtues.

Room 6 Monsier Piere, the madame smiles to him. Your partner is already waiting. I hope your stay will be satisfactionary.

Yes madame Justine. I am almost sure that I get what I need.

Opening the door of room 6, monsieur Piere sees what he expected. The head of securité waiting.

Good afternoon chef, I hope you could keep your coming hidden. It won't do good for the reputation of the Premier to be seen in a cheaper house like this.

You could be right, but at least I have the excuse not to be married. But that's not why we're spending time in this cockroach infested cesspool of disease.
How is operation Mozes going?

It's expensive, and the men with straw hats are more competent and more brutal than we ever expected. But we have the right personel at the right place now. Never tought ACM managers were that cheap and easy.

How much delay did you cause already? Or what do the observation ships have to report?

The ships report that the Darien canal is being dug at the expected pace, and that it is in effect even a bigger pile of death than our canal before the Institute Pasteur solved the medical problem.

So, no delay caused yet. Why not?

Sir, it takes time to plan it so, that France never will be connected to the disasters that will happen. Or do you prefer the hard approach? In that case, just send the Brazillian battlefleet in, and bomb the hell out of the fortresses and the entrance, locks and the whole shebang.
I prefer the more elegant methode, and keeping France out of diplomatical problems.

I want results. France is pouring loads of resourses in the great Canal.
But if the Darien Canal, albeit smaller than ours, is finished first, the honor of France will be besmirched. So, make it so the Great canal is finished first.

At your orders Chef.
   
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Phoenix    
Posted: Aug 21 2006, 03:52 PM


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Current events... a small Chinese harbour... The Fast and The Furious - Wet Feet Division...

Gao Shu-Chang admired the view. It was a lovely little harbour and the torpedo-boats floated merrily on the waves. He didn't know why Master Weng sent him away from his beloved Sparrow Hawk but it needed time to be repaired anyway and they wouldn't let him handle a tool. He still didn't understand why his genius idea to remove half of all the sticks to make the aircraft lighter was turned down with such fervor. He was sure that the remaining sticks would keep the aircraft together well enough. After all, a kite needs only 2 sticks, doesn't it ?
He smiled when one of the men at the quay waved at him and paraded proudly over to his famous uncle. "It is so good to see You again, Lustrous Uncle," he smiled, "Your glorious exploits shine on the family."
"Stop adulating me, young one," Captain Gao grinned while his nephew bowed to him, "aren't you the boy who defies the very Heavens Themselves by taking flight without having wings ?"
"Oh, but I had wings, August Uncle, and the trees decided not to stand in my way anymore..."
"Because you had them cut down ?"
The boy looked shocked. "No ! That would have angered the spirits that dwell in them !" Then, thoughtful: "But I did burn up a tree's weight of joss sticks I suppose..."
Captain Gao laughed and clapped his nephew on the shoulder. "Come let me introduce you to my fellow officers. He gestured to the captains Liu and Xu. "Gentlemen, this is Happy-Go-Lucky, my quite foolhardy nephew who has become as intimate with the sky as I with the sea."
Captain Liu looked alarmed. "Your nephew ? Another Gao ? Oh Goddess of Mercy, we are doomed !" He shook his head in mock dismay. "I doubt the sea could take on another Gao and survive..."

Prince Ching took Captain Gao apart. "You know the mission: take those torpedo boats, meet the yang quizi at the island we showed you on the map and escort them to Macau. Have them load their cargo, then escort them back out. You are the only one who knows what this is about and that is why we send you with your "Qingde". She is sturdier than the others and I know how you have yearned for sailing her again." He did not miss the gleam in the Captain's eyes and smiled benevolently: "Did you really think we wouldn't know about you telling your nephew about her, wanting to invite him aboard one day and show him around ? Well... this is your chance. Call it a vacation of sorts."
Captain Gao's expression sobered. "I can't call that vacation, Venerable Master. There is danger a-sail. We wouldn't be called to escort those ships if there was no risk for them. And that means risk for us."
"True. But young Lucky's master and I have discussed this. The boy is in no more danger than he was when flying those oversized kites of his. He has enormous potential for The Fast and The Furious, which we need to develop by showing him other paths. Also, Engineer Weng expects the lad won't be able to break his bones on a ship anyway, which will be a welcome change. And we know he can swim."
"Besides," the old man continued, "there's another one you are familiar with whom you are going to meet."
"Oh ? And will His Highness, in His Infinite Wisdom, deign to disclose to this humble slave who it is ?"
"I think he goes by the name of "Teniente", if I remember correctly. You have met him before. In fact, he made you famous."
Captain Gao stared at Prince Ching, eyes wide with sudden understanding as the old man continued to speak.
"He's in charge of those vessels. And this time I can assure you he will sail only under his true flag."
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 21 2006, 10:11 PM


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26 October - Colon

The alarm sounded as the result of a sentry stumbling over the body of one of his partners. A quick assessment of the site confirmed four men down, all with slit throats.

In the pre-dawn light, the remaining troops poured out from their tents and fanned out to look for whomever had committed the atrocities. The colonel in charge of site security could only fume in frustration as report after report came in: no sign of intruders.

Out in the canal, the water flashed white and a spout erupted before the right-hand door of Lock #1. As concrete crumbled into the foaming water and the rumble of the explosion faded, the senior engineer could be heard cursing from across the camp.

"I need divers in the water to examine the other door!", he was soon growling at the colonel. "We need to ensure it's safe."

The colonel couldn't disagree, and was soon relieved that he hadn't, as the divers reported seeing what looked like the warhead of a torpedo lying in the silt at the base of the door. They also reported a small box-like object lying a few feet away. "Should be safe to move it", the engineer suggested uncertainly.

"I don't think there's much choice in the matter", the colonel replied.

So the morning work was halted while the divers carefully shifted the warhead into a basket harness, then connected a line from the harness to a small construction tug. The tug moved the load a few miles up the coast to an isolated area of swampland, and a guard was put in place while army and armada specialists were summoned.

"It's a Spanish warhead, Sirs", a petty officer reported soon after his arrival. "Should be safe to handle - the contact fuze has been removed so that other thing - I assume it's a timer - could be attached."

"Spanish", the colonel murmured. "Better inform headquarters."



   

[Borys]

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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 11:25 AM


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30 October 1902: Manuas, Brazil

Sanchez and Padre Batista stood upon the dock, watching the approaching boat in silence. It was a police vessel, rather than a military craft, old and noisy with black smoke billowing from a small funnel.

Their escort - four policemen - stood around them impassively. All six knew the rules of this game intimately: the two Gran Colombians were to be escorted down the Amazon and put on the first ship out of Belem for Gran Colombia. They were to arrive home untouched, unless they spoke of what they had seen - in which case, the policemen had orders to kill them and anybody who had heard them on the spot.

One of the cops grunted and nodded to his left; all turned their heads to see a group of men approaching. All wore suits, several of them surrounding an older man whose pace belied his age.

"Padre Batista", the aged gentlemen said as he drew close. "A delight to finally meet the man who has done so much of God's work in the great jungle." He extended his hand, which Batista gently shook.

"Governor Brochado", Batista replied, "The pleasure is mine. To what do I owe the honor?"

The four policemen and the governor's security detail eyed the two - and each other - intently as the governor responded, "I wish to invite you and your associate to join me for dinner at my home. You have travelled extensively and no doubt have intriguing tales to tell."

"I'm afraid I must decline, Governor. Senor Sanchez and I are bound for Belem and we are unable to delay our travel", Batista apologized.

"It is just a police vessel, Padre. I will order them to wait till evening."

"Governor, I regret I can not agree to your offer; We must be on our way."

Brochado was a political animal; his face did not convey his displeasure at being refused. "Very well - next time, then. Did you enjoy your travels in Amazonas?"

"It was very interesting", Batista answered, prompting one policeman's hand to twitch closer to his holster. "We met a great many god-fearing men and women and marvelled at the development the state has seen in recent years." The senior policeman frowned at this, but discretion kept hand and revolver apart.

"No doubt", Brochado agreed. "Our rubber industry has remained strong despite competition from the Dutch colonies, and our mining sector begins to flourish. Now if we can only deal with the security issues elsewhere in our land, true progress can be made."

"I have heard of the disturbances along the coast", Batista confirmed. "I am certain the French authorities are as committed to public security there as they are here."

"Oh, yes", Brochado said. "That they are."

A momentary pause gave the senior policeman time to speak up. "Governor, sir, with your permission, it is necessary for these gentlemen to board their transport east."

The governor fixed him with a hard look, but his answer was an agreeable, "Certainly. Until next time, Padre."

"God be with you", Batista replied. The policeman didn't quite carry the two Gran Colombians aboard, but their impatience was evident. The boat hadn't even tied up - it had merely nudged bow-first into the pier and was using its screw to maintain station against the Amazon's slow but inexorable current.

As the boat backed out and manuevered away, the head of the governor's security detail glanced across the way to a non-descript young man in street clothes. The youth nodded very slightly, and began walking away through the crowd.

"Your message was delivered, sir", the agent murmured to Governor Brochado. "Manoel slipped it into the pocket of Batista's companion. The gendarme did not notice."

"Good. Convenient that the French are sending them home by boat - the Gran Colombians will get our proposal that much sooner", Brochado replied. "Back to the palace, then. Lunch awaits."

2 November: Cartagena

"So the Spaniards blew up the canal?", President Alizandro fumed.

"A Spanish warhead was used to destroy a lock door", Benicio Delgado corrected.

"That does not seem to be of benefit to them", Foreign Minister Torres remarked from down the table. "Are you certain?"

"Of course, Minister", Delgado replied. "However, as you say, I doubt very much the Spanish are behind the attack. Given what we know of French intentions, it is far more likely that this is an attempt to cause delay to the canal while laying the blame at the feet of somebody else we do not care for."

"The French can get Spanish torpedos?", the minister of mining questioned.

"Give me a week and I can have ten", Delgado replied. "The chaos in Spain is sufficient that virtually anything can be obtained from somebody there."

22 November: Macau

It looked dirty and decrepit, but it was a bar, the first that Teniente San Martino had seen in well over a year. Resigned to that fact that his first binge in ages would come via some weird Chinese brew, he entered the bar, nearly tripping over a small table in the sudden darkness.

As his eyes adjusted, he observed a few individuals seated at tables, and a long bar at which one man sat, in conversation with the bartender. San Martino approached the bar and seated himself on a wobbly stool. The bartender and the other man both came over.

"Welcome, Sir, to my humble establishment", greeted the man he'd thought was another patron. His Spanish was surprisingly fluent. "What may we serve you on this fine day?"

"Any chance you have some beer?", San Martino asked.

"But of course!", the owner exclaimed. He spoke to the bartender in Cantonese. The bartender opened a door behind the bar and descended down a flight of stairs. He returned soon carrying a green bottle with an ornate white, black, and gold label. As the bartender removed the cap, the owner announced, "Tsingtao's finest! A rare and difficult commodity to obtain so soon after the war, but for you I do my best."

"Thank you", San Martino beamed. He took a tentative drink, liked what he tasted, and downed half the bottle in a continuous chug.

"You like?", the owner said.

"Yes, thank you", San Martino replied - in Cantonese.

The owner's eyebrows lifted. "You speak our language? Good for you. You have been here long?" This was all in Cantonese. San Martino picked up perhaps a third of it.

"I've never been here before. I learned it from our gardener when I was a teen", San Martino replied in Spanish.

"You had a gardener in Spain who spent time here?"

"He was from here, somewhere. He never did say why he left here but he was with us for about three years, doing all the gardening and distilling some nasty booze in the evenings. I was always sneaking out and getting drunk with him after my parents had gone to bed. Always woke up feeling like I'd been in a fight", San Martino said. "Good times." He downed the rest of the bottle.

"Another?", the owner asked.

"Please", San Martino replied in Cantonese. The owner pointed at him and laughed as the bartender sighed and went down the stairs again.

The owner asked, "What became of this gardener?", as the bartender placed a new bottle on the counter.

"I heard he got into trouble with the police and moved on", San Martino explained. "It's too bad. We went through a whole series of gardeners after So Hi left."

"So Hi?", the owner exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Yes", San Martino answered. "You know him?"

The owner's hand darted out, snatched the beer bottle, and threw it across the room, where it shattered on the far wall. "No...no", he said. "I certainly do not know So Hi. I am so sorry - there was a...beetle in the bottle."

"Oh - can I get another?" San Martino asked.

"There are no more", the owner said firmly. "None. And I see we are about to close. You should go three blocks up the street to Woo-ping's tavern. He has beer there."

"Umm...", San Martino began.

"Go now! The beer was on me. Enjoy your stay in Macau!", the owner exclaimed, taking him by the arm and leading him to the door. In the bright outdoors, he pointed down the street. "That way to Woo-ping's. You can not miss it. Go now."

As San Martino started out towards the other bar, the owner came in and scowled at the bartender. "What was that all about?", the bartender demanded. "You hate Woo-ping. Why send business his way?"

"He spent three years drinking with So Hi!", the owner exclaimed. "Before you started working here, another friend of So Hi came here once. Huang Fei Hung?"

The bartender's face paled.

"Precisely", the owner said.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 02:02 PM


Kaiser und Koenig Stefan
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Ahoj!
I read through the Gran Colombia threads in the newsroom.
Fantastic!
Gave me a better grasp of the N-verse.

And an expression of awe to everybody involved in the Battle of the Tsushima Strait (aka Rustbucket). It was incredible to watch the story evolve and expand. It was like a RPG session.

ADDED LATER:
Sometimes I'm just plain dumb, so give it to me bold capitals - there are THREE chanels currently being cut through Central America?

Borys
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 02:29 PM


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There are indeed three canals.

Gran Colombia is completing the Darien Canal, which is essentially the historical Panama Canal but with slightly different dimensions. This one should be finished first, sabotage attempts notwithstanding.

A little further north, the French and UKA are the leaders of a second project, while New Switzerland the DKB were heading up a third.

The Santissima Trinidad was a very intriguing experience, especially when Spain and New Switzerland kept trying to escalate matters without actually being the ones to start shooting.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 02:42 PM


Kaiser und Koenig Stefan
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Ahoj!
But isn't the third one a Rohirrim venture?

And frankly - where is the capital for all those comming from ...

I can believe the French and UKA have the money.
The New Swiss and DKB plus Rohan - if I'm identyfying the channel correctly - probaly also.

But who is funding the Colombian project then?
I've noticed that it is a partly slave labor project, but that doesn't explain everything ...

Borys
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 02:52 PM


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In part, I assume capital for the Gran Colombian canal is coming from internationl private investors, since this canal was started first and supposedly will finish first. There is also a "mass involuntarily labor" aspect to it, and I'm also assuming that there is a large chunk of national expenditures involved - hence the limited HBP capacity of the nation.

Frankly, I fail to see any real basis for the other projects proceeding except national pride and a desire to control the resource. It would make far more sense to me for the DKB and NS to simply invest in the Gran Colombian project, rather than rather start a new project when the first is maybe a year or two from completion.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 03:02 PM


Kaiser und Koenig Stefan
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Ahoj!
IMO there is not much demand for this channel to begin with.
The country which is conspicuous by its absence is the CSA. This is the only other two ocean country. And I doubt if there is much traffic going from the east of the Mississippi to the desert areas along the Bahia California.
Hmmm - maybe the UKA is planning to conquer the Eastern Kingdom?

Yup, pooling financial resources seems to the best idea.

BTW - when did Colombia start building the channel?

Borys
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 03:51 PM


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I'd have thought that the CSA and maybe Rohan would be the only other nations with a clear military need - France maybe, but there's not a lot of French colonies in the eastern Pacific.

I never did talk with RLBH about CSA involvement while he was here.

Construction began in 1890, with a target completion of 1906. Personally, I think that's probably pessimistic even with the less intense GC effort, but we'll see how it ends up.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 04:09 PM


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Ahoj!
I agree - only the CSA and the Riddermark have a conceivable military need of any scale, however minutae.

Now, commercial interest - what could be the UKA, CSA, Atlantic Gran Columbia, ACM trade to the Far East?

The Europeans will take the Suez route, as it's shorter and has many more coaling stations than the empty Pacific. And opportunities for cabotage.

16 years is optimistic. But what do I know?
smile.gif

Borys
   
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Ithekro    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 10:31 PM


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In theory the CSA was supporting efforts on the canal through New Beleriand, but I don't have that paperwortk since this was a Swiss venture with Rohan's blessing.

Rohan's view of the canal is mainly military based, through commerse plays a part.

To be honest, when the plans and proposals for the French and Swiss canals were starting, there was no Columbian canal (that we knew of) under construction. It was a logical retcon after that nation received a player, though it might have been the plan from early on, since Rocky was the moderator when we started.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 26 2006, 11:45 PM


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Ahoj!
A nice mess smile.gif

Borys

[Borys]

Actually, I believe it was mentioned in the NPC notes from the start, but I can understand that it may have been overlooked. No matter. The Swiss have only just got going; they can still change their minds.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 27 2006, 12:25 PM


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Ahoj!
Ithekro, what business does a man, an elf and a dwarf have in New Beleriand ... err, sorry smile.gif

What exactly are the military intrests driving Rohirrim interest in a Pacific-Atlantic channel? Unless its a secret plot - like attacking Europe and setting up Rohan bis on the Ukrinian steppes biggrin.gif

Borys
   
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Ithekro    
Posted: Aug 27 2006, 12:41 PM


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Primary goal is to no need to round the Horn every time ships need to be sent from one coast of New Beleriand to another. This delayed an operation or two during the last war and has been noted for generations. With sailing vessels the matter wasn't seen as too high a prioritym but with metal ships with stream engines the need has increased. Also with the size of warships increasing, the number of total warships Rohan can field has diminished, therefore a way should be found to allow forces to be where they need to be sooner rather than in 40 - 60 days time.

As for the other question...Hunting a band of Anahuac through the jungles. They have taken two of our friends captive.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Aug 27 2006, 12:53 PM


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Ahoj!
Fair enough on number One.

As to the other question - we fought and destroyed a flotilla of Anahuac but yesterday. None escaped. Due to crew losses we have some torpedo boats spare. Can you man them?

Borys
   
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Maddox    
Posted: Aug 28 2006, 03:11 PM


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In OTL the Panama canal was started by the Suez Company, but illnesses drove them out.
Also, a sea level canal is maybe possible with modern technologies, not with 1880's.

The reason France started the "Great Canal" in the N-verse was the Anuhuac. A nominal ally. Unfortunatly for the Anuhuac, France didn't want to be involved in the Rohirrim-Anuhuac war, even when the emperor donated the canal zone to france.

The Anuhuac are at the moment still the biggest suppliers of manpower together with the Russians. The UKA delivers the digging machines (Earl 822 is an expert on steam engines, and an up and coming engineer in his own right) And another N-verse country is delivering the security forces and the most steel for the forts and locks.
France does the public information, healthcare(L'institute Pasteur) and main enginering.
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Aug 28 2006, 08:58 PM


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27 November

A knock on the door stirred President Enrico Alizandro away from a map of Cuba. "Si?", he called.

The door opened and the slim figure of his secretary glided through. "Senor President, Senor Sanchez and Padre Batista are outside; they insist on an audience with you."

It had been long enough now that he had difficulty remembering who these people were, but it came to him after a few seconds. "I have a few minutes still - send them in."

The priest and the bureaucrat entered, the secretary closing the door behind them. They approached his desk and waited silently as Enrico rolled up his map. "I had practically forgotten about you. It's been that long since I sent you, and since then, the rumors and the turmoil have not changed. Now, I have five minutes before I'm to meet with the ambassador from Austria, so summarize your findings and quickly."

"Senor President, we can do so in two sentences", Padre Batista replied. "First, there is a city-state of a million or more Anahuac located in the jungle northeast of Manuas, Brazil."

"Second", Sanchez continued, "The governors of Roraima and Amazonas wish for your help in securing their seccession from Brazil and admission into Gran Colombia."

President Alizandro stared at them as they'd proclaimed sighting the Virgin Mary in his coffee cup. "Be seated", he said momentarily. He pulled a cord attached to a corner of his desk and a muffled bell rang. His secretary poked her head inside the room.

"Clear my schedule for the day. And get every member of the cabinet here now."

2 December

The French ambassador to Gran Colombia, Michel Richard, seemed a decent sort. Fond of the local women - a few extracurricular events had been documented by Benicio Delgado's people - but a steady Catholic otherwise. So President Alizandro almost felt the slightest regret that he now had to lay into him unlike he'd ever done before.

"Michel...Michel, Michel, Michel", he began. "We have a problem, and by 'we', I mean our respective nations. It has come to my attention that within French Brazil, there exists a city-state of over one million followers of the Eye."

"What? This is impossible!", Richard sputtered.

"Sadly, it is not. They have been driving the local tribes into my southern states for some time, and apparently also terrorizing your own people in the northern states of Brazil. I have it on good authority that the government reaction has been to send a great many of the best French colonial troops out of the country. This has alienated virtually every citizen of your northern territories against the French colonial government - as if you needed the additional trouble given matters elsewhere in the colony."

"I don't-", Richard began to protest, but he was cut off with a wave of Alizandro's hand.

"Don't, Michel. Don't ruin our long relationship by lying; just listen to me. I have tried to be a good neighbour to France, tried very hard, and I am now finding that France is not reciprocating. Settling a million Anahuac south of me is certainly a serious affront to me. However, I can see the twisted logic behind it; your leadership at the time started quietly working on your own canal while the Anahuac controlled the lands, and this city was the Anahuac insurance policy against Rohirrim conquest.

"Now, the natural response that comes to my mind when I think of the Anahuac is to mobilize my army, send it into French Brazil, and order the slaughter of every last man, woman, and child in the service of the Eye. That would be a very public undertaking, of course, and I would have to explain how an Anahuac city came to be there in the first place. No doubt the Rohirrim would be very interested in hearing about French support of their mortal enemy. No doubt the new Mesoamerican republic would be very interested hearing that France was sheltering the regime that committed such atrocities upon its own people. And if both the landlord and the labor force of your grand canal take issue with French conduct, it may bode...poorly...for the future of your canal."

The French ambassador now looked somewhat ashen.

Alizandro continued. "On the topic of canals - I realize that my canal will be finished before yours - sabotage of supposedly Spanish origin notwithstanding - but this is no cause for shame in France. We started a decade earlier; your canal may be completed second, but it will surely be completed in less time, and that is no small feat. Of course, if the Spaniards should start sabotaging your canal too, it may not work out this way, correct?"

"Correct, Senor President", Richard conceded.

"Now, I have no wish to make an enemy of France - no more so than it already is, at any rate. We both have other troubles to concern ourselves with - the Anahuac and Communists for myself, the Hapsburgers, Chinese, Brazilian rebels, and Communists for yourselves", Alizandro said. "So we need to come to an agreement, and this is what I propose..."



NOTE: At this point, Gran Colombian knowledge about the Anahuac city-state has not been made public.
   
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Phoenix    
Posted: Sep 2 2006, 12:00 PM


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22 November: Macau

At "The Prancing Seahorse" Captain Gao and his party sat gathered around a table. Several empty bottles mutely testified of the liquid onslaught, but still Woo-Ping kept bringing fresh bottles. Sailors were good business, the sturdy innkeeper thought happily, as long as you keep them drinking instead of fighting. He smiled fondly at the young boy in the sailor's company, who was trying to keep up with the rest but appeared to fail despite his dapper efforts. The older men good-naturedly teased him, but the one the lad called "uncle" had quietly passed some coins into the innkeeper's hand earlier that afternoon with the whispered request of watering down the boy's drinks. As with everything, in drinking one needs training and careful education. Woo-Ping wholeheartedly approved.
All laughter dimmed for a moment when a yang quizi came in. But Captain Gao's face suddenly lit up with a huge smile and he yelled: "The owner of the Rustbucket !" Hastily the captains Gao and Liu got up and went to meet the newcomer. "Aahh !! Teni-ente San Mat-tino come in ! This time we meet dry hunh ? No wet feet, no bullets... sit down !"
Before the hapless visitor could stammer "but..." he was rammed down upon a chair, next to the beaming younger Gao, and presented with a bottle. "Wet mouth this time !" the older Gao grinned. Then he picked up a piece of paper that was on the table and presented it proudly to the stranger. It bore the drawing of a smiling face. "Just like old times, no misunderstandings..."
San Martino tried to shush the other down, "we were supposed to meet inconspiciously..."
"Hai, this is about as inconspicious as it gets. Where else to meet a yang quizi ?" Captain Gao hesitated, then, "eyh, but you understand and speak these words ?"
"I speak your language a bit."
"It's not "my" language."
"Pardon ?"
"I speak a language that is not Cantonese but we learn it at school. The Middle Kingdom is very big. Many languages are spoken. One is used to be spoken by all."
"Oh."
The elder Gao sat down next to San Martino. "But good, now we don't have to babble barbaric sounds. Your ships ready ?"
"Uh, yes. We need to know where to dock for loading..."
"Good. I'll walk down with you to the quay and the Harbourmaster. How did you get here ?"
"I was told by another innkeeper to come here. He didn't like an old friend I spoke of and chased me away."
"Who's your old friend then ?"
"So Hi."
Captain Gao barked a laugh and slapped himself on the knees. "Good one !! No wonder that fool innkeeper is afraid of you. Or rather, he's afraid So Hi had taught you tricks." He looked at San Martino. "So Hi didn't ?"
"What are you talking about ? What tricks ?"
"Oh never mind," Captain Gao shrugged. "Let's just say that when friends of So Hi enter a bar, usually when they leave there is no bar anymore. For some reason friends of So Hi always attract trouble." He winked at innkeeper Woo-Ping who blanched. "Let us go to the quay now eyh ?" He took a small stack of notes out of his pocket and passed them on to Woo-Ping who sighed with relief. Then he hauled his nephew up by the scruff and signalled the others to leave.
"Let's go find the Harbourmaster."

"Hm... loading could take 3 days. Let the ships rotate, then go on anchor and wait for the others. Sampans will bring food and water to the waiting ships so you won't need to start on the supplies yet." The Harbourmaster shrugged, then ticked off another item on his list.
"You sure there's enough food and water for the trip ?"
"Trust me, yang quizi, I have dealt with this before when we had the ACM to deal with. I know my numbers."
"Oh well," San Marcos sighed, "nothing now but wait..."
Captain Gao and his nephew grinned at him. "Back to the Prancing Seahorse then ? Another round of beers ?" Nod. Enthousiast nod.
"Where's Captain Liu ?" San Marcos inquired politely.
"Oh, he stumbled into a brawl down at the Blushing Peony last night. The bar where they chased you away, remember ?"
San Marcos couldn't help but stare at the twain, younger and older alike. "So what's keeping him ?"
"A table with broken bottles. They still have to get all the pieces out of his backside. Glass-splinters are nasty."
"Ouch."
"Yup."
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Sep 2 2006, 04:59 PM


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23 November: Macau

There had been some thought put into the operation. The four passenger liners had been leased from different Gran Colombian lines, and therefore had different appearances. They had arrived over a span of five days, flying a range of national flags, original names painted over and replaced with temporary ones. A casual observer would be hard-pressed to link the ships together in a busy port such as this one.

The locals in Macau only ever saw one foreign warship, a ubiquitous ex-ACM Cod class cruiser, but there were, in fact, two of them. One came in for supplies while the other casually meandered around over the horizon - keeping an eye out for any indication of trouble. The previous night, they had switched roles, and now the other was in taking on coal. Both ships had flown PESN colors and did their best to play the role of a single warship.

Teniente San Martino had been present as the nominal expedition leader - a deputy head from the Ministry of Defence - addressed the senior officers amongst the New Swiss prisoners.

"General - Colonels - Majors - my name is Raul Picardo, with the Government of Gran Colombia. I wish to explain the situation to you and hopefully secure your cooperation."

The New Swiss general gruffly responded, "Please do, Mr. Picardo. I don't like being kept in the dark about the fates of my men."

Picardo nodded. "General, you and your men pose a serious problem for the Middle Kingdom. Its relationship with New Switzerland remains just this side of open warfare - indeed, as recently as May, your ships were exchanging fire at sea. The Middle Kingdom thus has no real desire to return you home, as they fear you will return to active service and therefore aid New Swiss war efforts."

The General held up his right hand. "These savages cut the right thumb off every man here, Mr. Picardo. We might not be able to work a rifle very well, but we'd damn sure do what we could for our country."

"Precisely the point", Picardo observed. "And while the Middle Kingdom does not wish to send you home, nor do they wish to keep you here. Times have been difficult for them - there was a severe tidal wave months ago, and harvests have been poor. They do not wish to feed ten thousand prisoners of war when they can't feed their own children." Picardo made a point of pausing for effect. "Which is why they were simply planning to execute you all."

"Heathen cowards!", the general snarled.

Picardo ignored the outburst. "Fortunately, I'm pleased to say that Gran Colombia stepped in to seek a better solution. Following long and arduous negotiations with the Middle Kingdom, we have essentially purchased your lives. I have contracts with me; each man that signs one shall board a ship for Gran Colombia and shall perform whatever services we deem necessary for a period of five years. At that time, you will be transported back to New Switzerland and your loved ones."

"Five years?", a colonel questioned.

"The shortest term the Middle Kingdom would agree to", Picardo lied, with the ease of a career bureaucrat. "They hardly want you delivered straight to New Switzerland."

"Will the men be paid?", a major asked.

"They will be paying off a significant debt incurred on their behalfs by Gran Colombia - thus they will not. However, they will receive all the necessities of life - food, shelter, clothing, medical care."

The General glared at Picardo. "Sounds to me like we're being asked to sign on for slavery in exchange for our lives. You're a right bastard, Mr. Picardo."

Picardo ignored the insult. "Perhaps so, but my offer is better than a bullet to the back of the neck and an unmarked grave in the Gobi Desert. Five years, General, then you're free to return home to your loved ones."

The General scowled and surveyed his senior officers. None looked particularly pleased, but each nodded as the general met his eyes. "I'm not going to order the men to sign the contracts", he said at last. "But I am going to tell them that I will sign one. Show me the paper, Mr. Picardo. Let's not be wasting time."
   

[Borys]

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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Sep 3 2006, 09:21 PM


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25 December 1902: West of Central America

"I understand we're not far off", commented Captain Hansen of the New Swiss army.

"I'm told we'll be docking tomorrow or the next day", Teniente San Martino replied. The New Swiss officers aboard ship had been invited to an early Christmas dinner with San Martino and the off-duty officers of their ride, the SS Corazon del Oro. It was not necessarily the most festive occasion, given the uncertainties the Swiss faced, but for San Martino, it was at least a change from eating with the same civilians over and over again.

"What do you think will happen to us?", Hansen asked.

"I really don't know", San Martino replied. "I was really only there to help arrange the logistics. I don't know what happens when we get to San Miguelito. I'm not even sure what I'm doing."

"Rumor has it we'll be working on your canal. Rather ironic, I think, since we're digging our own to the north", Hansen remarked. "Unfortunately, I seem to recall reading that you were losing a lot of people to disease. I've had enough of that already, thanks."

"What do you mean?", asked San Martino, helping himself to some more mashed potatoes.

"The Chinese were doing their best to make us sick. Of course, our own special forces were doing the same thing. There were a few times my company would escort some of our special forces teams across No Man's Land so they could go round leaving useful things - blankets and such - that were infected with Small Pox."

"Why?", San Martino asked. "It could start an epidemic."

"Of course it could - why do you think they were doing it?"

San Martino's fork stopped half way to his mouth. Kernels of corn rolled off the edge into his lap. "But that's barbaric!"

Hansen shrugged. "They started it. Using old-fashioned siege artillery to lob dead animals at our camps and poison our water holes. Nothing wrong with retaliating the same way. Teach 'em a lesson, perhaps."

"Did it?"

Hansen shrugged again. "I don't know. Special Ops guys said so."

"Strange way to fight a war", San Martino observed.

"There are no rules in love and war", Hansen replied. His eyes shifted away from San Martino. "Is that normal?"

San Martino turned about. Looking out the windows, he could see the Puerta Espana belching thick smoke and heeling around in a sharp turn. "Ah - no. Looks like they're working up to flank speed."

"What was that?", came a voice from the end of the table.

San Martino turned back to look at the ship's captain. "Puerta Espana is working up to flank speed", he repeated.

The captain frowned. "Excuse me a moment", he said, standing. He strode over to the far wall and opened up a voice tube. "Bridge, Captain. Is there something I should know about?"

A muffled response deepened his frown. "I'll be there in a moment", he stated. To San Martino he said, "Three ships approaching - one big one. The cruisers are turning to meet them. You can join me on the bridge. Gentlemen", he called out to the Swiss officers, "I'm afraid the rice pudding must wait until later."
   
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The Rock Doctor    
Posted: Sep 11 2006, 06:24 PM


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25 December

"I make it as the protected cruiser Gloire and two sloops, Sir", the lookout said to Captain Felipe Torregrosa. The two were standing on the starboard platform extending off the bridge of the Bucaramanga, observing the three approaching warships with field glasses.

Torregrosa did not like the math; he had four liners, laden with ten thousand plus Swiss contractors, and two small, slow cruisers to protect them - against two fast sloops nearly as large as his, and a cruiser as large as many battleships. It was tempting to have Bucaramanga and Puerta Espana take a sloop each and leave the big cruiser to chase after the scattering liners, but with the Armada's major fleet units deployed to the Caribbean, there'd be nothing stopping Gloire from doing whatever she wanted. Whereas the protected cruisers and torpedo-boats based at Esmeraldas could take on the sloops. He stood a greater chance of losing liners to two smaller ships than one large one, but perhaps the liners themselves would be less reluctant to resist the smaller warships.

"Blinker signal to Puerta Espana: Set up for a hammer and anvil attack, but hold fire", he called out. "Wireless, transmit this to the Frenchies: French warships, Gran Colombian convoy requests you alter course."

As Puerta Espana veered off across the path of the French squadron, he observed that each of the French sloops were keeping themselves between one of his own ships and Gloire.

"Sir? Wireless from the French as follows: Unknown ships, stop and prepare to be inspected."

Torregrosa frowned. "Wireless, did you specifically mention that we're a Gran Colombian convoy?"

"Aye, Sir."

"Then transmit this: French warships, Gran Colombian cruiser Bucaramanga requests you alter course to avoid Gran Colombian convoy bound for Gran Colombia."

"Aye Sir."

Torregrosa looked over to the XO: "It may be redundant, but I want it clear who we are." To the signals officer, he called out, "Blinker to convoy: Scatter and implement defensive measures."

The wireless officer called out, "The French are repeating their previous message, Sir."

"They're playing dumb", he said out loud, as the first liner began turning away from its counterparts. As the merchies began to disperse, he watched for a French response. It came as a flash and the dull report from a large gun aboard Gloire. The shell kicked up a spout of water well off Bucaramanga's port bow.

"Blinker to Puerta Espana: Torpedo Gloire when ready but hold guns until fired upon."

******

Gloire's captain, Charles Petion, could see what the Gran Colombians were doing. It was unnerving to know that they were planning to torpedo him and yet being unable to see the weapons until they were well underway. More so knowing these weren't the diminutive little fish the Middle Kingdom used - these ex-ACM ships carried whopping great 50.8 cm weapons.

"Urgent signal from Lavoisier, Sir! Torpedo inbound!"

Lavoisier was off to starboard, so Petion shouted, "Emergency rudder to port! Signal all ships to engage!"

As the cruiser began to heel over in a tight turn, the French cruiser opened fire, splitting her fire against the two Colombians. The other four warships were quick to reply, and Petion noted that the Colombian's fire was directed at him, not the sloops.

"Torpedo running up the starboard beam, Sir!", a lookout yelled. That'd be the one Lavoisier had sighted, Petion thought. Unfortunately, the evasive action, while helping him avoid that threat, was also carrying him closer to the other Gran Colombian cruiser. "Torpedo on the starboard bow!", came the new warning.

"Emergency rudder to starboard!", Petion snapped, and the big cruiser started twisting around again. It was, however too late. The ship shook and men tumbled as a geyser jetted upward abaft the forward 275 mm gun. Petion was thrown sideways and clipped the chart table with his head on the way down. Knocked silly for several seconds, he used the table for support as he regained his feet. "Report!"

"Still awaiting reports, Sir!", somebody shouted in response.

"A hit on the closer enemy!", a lookout cried. "Right amidships!"

The big main gun thundered, kicking up water just forward of that same cruiser. Petion called out, "They've shot their bolt! Signal the sloops to take the liners - we'll deal with these impudent bastards!" A few of the younger men around him cheered, in anticipation of a glorious victory.

******

The math favored Gloire. Two 275 mm guns and twelve 140 mm guns split their fire between the two Colombian cruisers, which in turn could bring at most five 140 mm guns each against the big Frenchman. The two sloops were contributing their own fire from their stern guns but they were opening the distance with the two Gran Colombian ships as they followed orders to hunt down the transports.


Torregrosa was keenly aware of this as he brought Bucaramanga around to cross in front of Gloire. His own speed allowed him to chase salvos, sparing Bucaramanga from the heavy shells, but the crippled Puerta Espana had no such luck. Limping along at just eight knots, she was pummelled by Gloire's artillery.

Yet while the punishment killed Puerta Espana and her crew, it failed to kill their spirit. They'd fought before against poor odds and had persevered; maybe this time they wouldn't make it back to San Miguelito, but if they hurt Gloire badly enough, their sister ship and the merchies still had a chance. So despite the rapidly accumulating damage and the hail of gunfire, Puerta Espana fought on.

******

It took twelve minutes to sink the Puerta Espana, by which time Bucaramanga had also been struck a number of times. But the fight had hardly been one-sided; Gloire had also been hit numerous times by both ships. Three of her 140 mm guns were out of action, and casualties amongst all crew above decks were considerable.

Petion had also lost half his main battery. The gun captain in the forward turret, fearing some kind of catastrophe after the nearby torpedo hit, had ordered his magazine flooded. The turret had fired off four remaining projectiles that had been on hand and then gone silent.

Petion's inclination was to call for full speed and attempt to overtake the remaining cruiser so that the aft 275 could come to bear. The damage control officer on the other end of the brass voice tube had other ideas. "Captain, we've already lost several compartments to bulkhead failures! You have to reduce speed!"

Petion scowled. "How much?"

"Eight knots at most!"

"Eight?", Petion exclaimed in frustration. He glanced at the clinometer several feet away and noted that it had the ship listing at seven degrees. "Damn it!"

******

On the Corazon del Oro, Teniente San Martino didn't have a lot of information to work with. He and the bridge crew knew that Puerta Espana had gone down, and that Bucaramanga had been hard hit. A look aft also made it plain that a French sloop was catching up with his ship. It was overhauling Corazon del Oro at a rate of about two knots, despite the frantic efforts of the stokers down in the merchantman's bowels. Well before nightfall, the sloop would catch up with them.

What was it with him and merchant ships, anyway?

The captain looked to him and said, "I have orders to resist capture however possible, but I've got almost three thousand men aboard, and I'm not going to get them killed. I'll lead along the French as long as possible, but when the time comes, I'm going to surrender the ship."

San Martino wasn't sure what to say to this. The government didn't tolerate failure very well, and surrendering to the French - losing twenty-five hundred laborers in the process - seemed very much indeed like a failure. It was the kind of thing that got people exiled to the canal project.

******

Gloire's loss of speed had become evident, as had the issues with its big forward gun, and Captain Torregrosa saw this as an opportunity to get clear before his own command was sunk. He'd given the order to pursue his wayward charges, and set a course in the general direction of the French sloops, now just specks on the eastern horizon.

Though he was none to keen to lose his ship, she remained capable of dishing out some harm to a French sloop if only the opportunity would present itself. It was unfortunate that his cruiser, a slow one at the best of times, was now down to about twelve knots: sufficient to draw clear of Gloire, but well below that of the sloops or even the liners.

"We have four guns operational", came the report from the gunnery officer. "Magazines at thirty to forty percent. Both tubes are reloaded."

"Very good", Torregrosa replied. "Let's get those fires extinguished."

******

The wireless operator looked up from his station on the bridge of Corazon del Oro. "Transmission from San Antonio, Sir", he said. "They've stopped and are being boarded by a French sloop."

Instinctively, San Martino, the captain, and many of the other men looked back at the French sloop, now just a few hundred yards on the port quarter. "There you go", the captain said softly. "It's okay to be second. Helm, ring for 'All Stop'."

As the helmsman's hand reached for the instrument, San Martino was astonished to hear himself say, "Belay that, captain!"

"Silence, Teniente", the captain snapped. "Helm, carry out the order."

San Martino knew in his heart that he would have no future if he allowed this ship to be boarded. At the best, he'd get a dishonorable discharge and be ruined. More likely he'd join the canal project and die in some festering swamp along the route. He was willing to do a great deal to prevent that from transpiring - and so in a quick, fluid movement, he drew his revolver, drew back the hammer, and shot out the captain's right kneecap.

The older man fell over, screaming in agony. The other sailors kept their stations, frozen in shock. "This ship has its orders", San Martino said in a loud, slightly quavering voice. "We will see them through. Maintain speed and heading until my command."

The minutes ticked by in silence. The French sloop's bow appeared on the port side, its forward gun pointing in their general direction. "Blinker signal from the sloop, Senor. We are ordered to stop and prepare for boarding."

San Martino looked at the sloop, then pointed his revolver at the helmsman. "Hard to port, Helmsman. Ram her."

Swallowing, the helmsman spun the wheel and the liner tilted in toward the sloop. The French ship's horn sounded, a gun fired, people shouted and yelled. While the sloop was commendably quick to react and start turning, the liner's bow punched into sloop about thirty feet back from the warship's own stem with a terrible crunching sound. The liner's much larger mass shoved its own crumpling stem through the cruiser's hull, the amputated bow of the sloop sinking within seconds. The sloop found itself pushed to port and metal squealed as the length of the liner ground along the sloop's forward hull. A davit on the liner failed, and a heavy lifeboat tumbled down on to the sloop's deck, then was dragged forward thirty feet, destroying everything before the lines snapped. Even then, the sudden release of tension sent the lines whipping through the air, slicing the arm off a French gunner fleeing the forward gun mount.

The mind-numbing noise seemed to last an hour, but as it faded away, the Corazon del Oro lumbered forward, while the sloop wallowed in her wake astern. "Somebody get down to inspect our damage", San Martino ordered. "And get the captain to the sick bay."

******

Six ships had been bound for San Miguelito; four arrived over the span of eight hours the next afternoon. Under the watchful eye of two protected cruisers and two torpedo boats, two passenger liners arrived within an hour of each other. Neither had seen a French ship since scattering, and arrived unscathed.

Bucaramanga arrived four hours later, her fires out and her dead buried at sea. The other warships dipped their ensigns in salute, recognizing that she'd been in battle but not clear on the details.

Corazon del Oro came in last, down by the bow. Seven Swiss soldiers and one Gran Colombian purser had been killed during the collision and buried at sea.

All four ships were greeted by party of senior military officials, bearing with them a cover story prepared by Gran Colombia's efficient Ministry of Information.

[Borys]

27 December: La Prensa Nacional

A brazen assault by dastardly Spanish communists against Gran Colombia has been beaten off, but with heart-breaking losses to our loyal Armada. The attack by three cruisers - seen flying the PESN banner - was met by two Gran Colombian cruisers.

Defence Minister Ricardo Alizandro solemnly told reporters, "Sadly, the Puerta Espana is believed lost with all hands, while a number of men aboard the Bucaramanga fell in the defence of their nations."

The two cruisers were escorting four passenger liners, themselves carrying refugees from war-torn Asia who were only seeking a new life in our magnificent nation. Three of the ships escaped the marauding communists, but one only survived after the courageous actions of a junior naval officer that saw a PESN cruiser rammed and severely damaged. The fourth ship, regrettably, was heard to transmit that she had been boarded, and has not been heard from since. The fate of the two thousand plus civilians aboard her remains unclear but Defence Minister Alizandro said, "We fear the worst. They have fallen into the hands of the scum of the earth. May God have mercy upon their souls."

28 December: Cartagena

"I gather we're staying with the cover story", Foreign Minister Torres remarked at the daily cabinet meeting.

"Correct", responded President Alizandro.

"So the French go unpunished?", Security Minister Rey Alizandro asked.

"They did not get off lightly", the President replied. "Besides which, I want to see if they perceive this as a victory, and thus terminate this foolish game of brinkmanship with us. A cruiser and some one-handed foreigners is a small price to pay if so."

"Obviously you have something in mind with this PESN cover", Defence Minister Ricardo Alizandro commented.

"Absolutely. You've no doubt seen that the Austrians and the UKA are attacking Spain. This was an excellent opportunity to rouse the public against Juan and his puppetmasters - as can been seen in the main square", Enrico noted, referring to a large anti-PESN demonstration currently taking place in Cartagena's largest plaza. "It is, therefore, high time that we take the fight to the communists. Effective on the first of January, we go to a war footing. Minister Alizandro", he said, looking to his brother in case there was any doubt in the matter, "Order the Armada and Army to execute Operation Libertador."

30 December: Habana, Cuba

"Finally", murmured Pedro Pizarro, in a dim room under the Gran Colombian consulate. He held a lit match to the sheet of paper and watched the message burn, dropping it only as the heat of the flame became unbearable on his fingers.

For months now, he'd been directing the operations against the PESN and its Baltic League lackeys. There had been bloody riots and demonstrations, suppression of free speech and expression, acts of sabotage - all engineered to put the people and the PESN military at odds with each other. He felt they'd been largely effective in this respect.

Now it was time to make use of all this work. Was the PESN military sufficiently weakened? Good question. He'd have to update his analyses. The Armada would need the latest naval dispositions, the army the latest ground deployments. He'd have to step up his subversion ops targetting various PESN and Cuban officers. A few hits might be in order, and some kind of atrocity against the civilian population would be helpful if his people could coax the PESN into committing one.

"Happy new year, Juan", he muttered.
   
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Borys    
Posted: Sep 12 2006, 10:08 PM


Kaiser und Koenig Stefan
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Ballplatz, Vienna, early 1903

Imre Lengyel reading reports from Austrian Embassy in Gran Columbia.
- So the Colombians are mobilizing their land and naval forces in Carribean ports ... against whom?
- The likely candidates are Brazil - but would they take on the French, and risk the UKA fleet cutting off any forces they might land in the Brazilian North-East? Not that the French would need the UKA fleet to do it, their own would suffuce. Cuba? Or that Island Commonwealth? Or maybe an attack at the other channels being built, especially the French one? No unusual activity in Pacific ports. Anyway, nothing of this seems to affect Austrian interests, though. No need to pass this on to the Kaiser.