Our Father [OPEN]

The television broadcast of the news was underway. Families all around Oclusia were gathered around their televisions with their eyes glued to the screens. All eyes were on President. Lyovkin Yermolayevich took to the stand and immediately, he locked down his notes and papers on the podium. He coughed a little bit and he got ready for the address he was about to give. He locked down his eyes on the cameras in front of him. The Oclusi citizens looked at their screens nervously as they knew that by the look he was giving to the crowd, he had something serious on his mind.

= Presidential Address - Minsk, Capital Territory, Oclusia=

"Citizens of the Democratic Republic of Oclusia, it is my pleasure to be upon this podium, but not with the certain circumstances that we are looking at as a nation. If you don't know this, Oclusia was founded by numerous tribes of peoples that followed the Orthodox Religion in this land. This can be proven through early texts from the earliest Oclusi tribespeople that set foot on this land. We are also shown that the religion of Courantism hadn't come to Oclusia until the Aleman landed on our shores and created the settlement of Einestadt. We can infer that Courantism spread across the land for that reason along with the trade to Gothis. As soon as Highton let go of Oclusia, the religious separation had already been done. Orthodox was not the predominant religion anymore from that point on. Courantism had taken its place among the people of the nation.

Courantists and Orthodox all were able to live with each other in harmony here in Oclusia since 1952, but then we noticed a major problem within the unemployment rate inside of our nation. We keep a census on the unemployment of religious backgrounds here in Oclusia, and we noticed that the unemployment rate within the Orthodox in Oclusia skyrocketed from 0.21% to a whopping 17% of Orthodox who were unemployed while the Courantists unemployment rate fell from 1.5% of Courantists to 0.11%. What this study shows us in power is that the businesses of the nation are more compelled to hire Courantists over Orthodox. This is a problem because the religion that this nation was founded upon is now getting the short end of the spectrum.

Congress addressed this issue quickly and precisely, and we have decided to come up with a major series of laws that can help our nation get back on track. First off, we would like to note that these were all unanimously agreed on by the national congress just to get Orthodox back on their feet. The laws that will hereby be enforced include:

1. Labeling of business - Businesses that are run by Courantists should be labeled and such and it will have a certain and appropriate curfew on it. Curfew for most Courantist businesses should be 20:00 sharp.
2. Curfew - A curfew on Courantists will also be in place. All Courantists should be back in their homes at precisely 21:00. Any later will be met with an arrest.
3. Monthly Checkups - All homes of Courantists are subject to be searched without a warrant. This is to make sure that illegal substances are not being upheld in homes

We would like to further note that any Courantist caught trying to cross the border into the nations of Yalkan, Nurbolav, or even Saintoge will be met with detention or death at the border. We need to get our nation back on our feet, and we in the Oclusi government hereby activate these laws to even the playing field for the time being. God bless the Democratic Republic of Oclusia."

Pope John IX resided in his chambers at the palace in the Via, Ceretis. He was interrupted by the Camerlengo, his friend Father Niedermeyer, alerting him to a grave situation. It had to be very serious for anyone, even a high official, to interrupt the pope in his prayers. Father Niedermayer directed John to his secretary's office, where a TV showed a GRK broadcast of breaking news. On the monitor, dubbed into Gojan, was the Oclusian president, Yermolayevich, declaring his the beginnings of his persecution of the Courantists. The words of the monotone translator rung in his head. "Businesses that are run by Courantists should be labeled... A curfew on Courantists will also be in place... All homes of Courantists are subject to be searched without a warrant." He felt his stomach drop.

The peaceful courantists of Oclusia, who had built their society and thrived, were now being persecuted for their beliefs. And by the orthodox of all people. John was visibly frustrated. Fellow Messianists. He told Niedermayer to ready the press office, he would be making his first major address as Pope in a matter of world politics.

---

About two hours later, the press corps had assembled in John's study. Cameras focused on his red leather armchair, which sat empty as His Holiness was in the neighboring room readying himself.

"OK, we are ready," said Niedermayer, prompting John to enter the study and take a seat in his chair.

5...4...3...2...1... LIVE!

"Brothers and Sisters of the world. People of the faith of God. I have come to you, my people, today with grave and upsetting news. A great pain has been inflicted on the followers of the word of God, by heretics who seek the destruction of all that is good in this world. They are ignorant, and we pray that they will come to their senses."

He flipped to his next index card.

"The President of Oclusia has declared new conditions against people of the Courantist faith. Our brothers and sisters have done no wrong, and they are being persecuted and singled out for their unwavering faith in God. We call upon the children of God around the world, Courantists, Laurenists, Rakanists, et cetera. All of God's people, I ask of you. Denounce the villainy of this man, make just our cause, and defeat the tide of satanism and evil that has consumed our world."

He looked into the camera, a somber attitude expressed across his face.

"I ask that we come together to defeat this menace, and defeat the persecution of God's children, no matter their religion. I ask this through Christ, and his divine wisdom in this matter. Thank you."

The camera clicked off. His message was out, first airing on GRK and the Ceretian networks, then slowly replaying across the news channels of Eras, until his message was known by the world, and his call for justice heard.

To: the Government of the Democratic Republic of Oclusia

Greetings!

The Kingdom of Saintonge notes with alarm the introduction of laws prejudicial against Oclusi citizens of Courantist faith. His Majesty’s government strongly urges the Oclusi government to rescind such laws and instead work towards the advancement of all Oclusis regardless of religion. Economic advancement of people of Orthodox faith will not be satisfactorily achieved by the debasement of the economic status of people of Courantist faith; instead, this will simply lead to the general lowering of the economic status of Oclusia and everyone in the country. The Kingdom of Saintonge is willing to assist a neighbour in economic need if such prejudicial laws are withdrawn and compensation paid to the economic damage done to its own citizens.

The Kingdom of Saintonge will be opening its doors to Oclusi Courantists who want to emigrate from the country. The Kingdom of Saintonge’s 2019 migrant quota will be open to Oclusi Courantists under the 1913 Asylum Rights Law (1913 Loi des Droits d’Asile) and the 1919 Flahault Law II (1919 Loi Flahault II). His Majesty's government's appeal to the Government of the Democratic Republic of Oclusia is to allow Oclusi Courantists to emigrate unmolested to the Kingdom of Saintonge.

The Kingdom of Saintonge will be watching closely the developments in our northern neighbour. It is the sincere hope of His Majesty’s government that the Oclusi Government will take steps to promote equality of all its citizens and the economic development of their nation.

The United Clans have always valued our ability to live and worship the faith of our father's freely and without interference or threat of violence, we are not courantist but we believe others should have the right to their traditions without harassment.

Oclusia's actions are dishonourable and had they attempted such in Essalanea we would have responded with resistance, this government is acting with disdain towards its own citizens and has lost sight of a chief's most important responsibility, the freedom and welfare of ALL the clan's members.

Thus we condemn the cowardice and dishonour shown by the Oclusian government, they have lost their way and shown themselves to be an illegitimate authority.

Magnus Brandt was dressed rather casually for a cabinet meeting, though the late hour was to be expected. He set his jacket over his chair at the head of the table, clad in casual khakis and a white cotton short sleeved shirt.

"What can we confirm?" he asked, looking Harald Daae, the Foreign Affairs Minister.

"President Yermolayevich is by all accounts serious. This doesn't seem to be a case of rhetoric. The ÖSU* has been tracking the rise of anti-Courantist sentiment within Yermolayevich's government for the past half a year."

"Are the files on hand?"

Daae nodded and slid a stack of files marked with the ÖSU emblem towards the Prime Minister. Brandt flipped through them.

"Have you spoken to Hveiti?"

"He's holed up in ÖSU HQ. He's in constant contact with agents in the region. He told me 'I'm dealing with it, I'll call you when I have something to report.'"

"We need an open line of communication with his office. I'll insist on it."

"Of course sir" Daae replied, thinking it was Magnus' funeral if he wanted to annoy Max Hveiti.

"Do we have the King on?" he asked.

"We're waking him up now" Daae replied.

---

Elo Daugaard placed a hand on Tobias' shoulder as he slept.
"Your Majesty" he said softly. The King just shrugged, not waking up. Daugaard just grunted, a bit annoyed, and shook him harder.
"Your Majesty."

"Huh, wha..." Tobias murmured as he rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Your Majesty" Daugaard said matter of factly.
"The Prime Minister and Cabinet require your attention."

"Wha..." Tobias mumbled, squinting as he looked at his clock.
"It's the middle of the night..."

"There's been an event Your Majesty" Daugaard explained.

"Wha happened?" Tobias said, trying to wake up.

"It would be best for Prime Minister Brandt to explain that, Your Majesty" Daugaard explained.

Tobias nodded and rolled out of bed, finishing the glass of water on his night stand and getting to his desk on the other end of the room, flicking the desk lamp on and picking up the phone, dialing the number for the cabinet room.
"Prime Minister?...Yes. No, it's ok. What's happened?"
Tobias nodded as he listened before turning white.

"No...I understand. No, Mr. Prime Minister. You're right. Draft the necessary paperwork." He hung the phone up and leaned back in his chair and muttered a single word.
"Fuck..."

---

The sun shown brightly and Tobias had finally gotten his aides to settle on an outfit. So many choices. Would a military outfit be implying military force Prydania was unable to provide? What message did a certain style of suit send? His eyes nearly glazed over, having no aptitude or interest in such PR matters. They'd finally suggested a charcoal Houdstooth three piece suit. He had gladly taken it, and now he found himself sitting before a RÚV camera. He took a sip of water, swallowing just before the red light on the camera went on.

"Prydania, I come to you to address the issues that have arisen in Oclusia. The regime of President Yermolayevich has called on his government and, indeed, all of Oclusian society to engage in persecution aimed at those of the Courantist faith."

"This is something we as Prydanians know all too well. The Syndicalist purges against those of faith have left many scars on our nation, many left unhealed. It's because of our past that I feel we, as a nation, have a duty to stand up to similar injustices on the world stage. We are currently in contact with our allies in the PGU. And beyond that, we are prepared to take action here, in Prydania. Currently Prime Minister Brandt is proposing legislation in the Alþingi that would condemn and sanction the Oclusian state. And I am prepared to say before God and country that I intend to give such legislation Royal ascent should it pass."

"The Oclusian government has declared war on human decency, and the basic concepts of peace and tolerance, which are building blocks of any fair society. Prydania will stand firm against such actions and call on our allies across the world to take a stand in the name of freedom of religion and freedom of consciousness."

"It is not just the Courantists of Oclusia, however, that we find common cause with. Our PGU allies the Federation of Yalkan, a Courantist majority nation, remains surrounded by Oclusian territory. We insist, with all the might we can muster, that Yalkan's sovereignty not be infringed. Including its right to admit any refugees it deems appropriate. Prydania stands by Yalkan, King Amias, and Prime Minister Darren Nevil, and the Courantists of northern Meterra."

"God preserve Prydania, and God protect the meek and needy."

The light went out, singling the end of the broadcast. Tobias just breathed deep, leaning back in his chair.

---

*Öryggi og Sérstaktupplýsingaöflun | Security and Special Intelligence, Prydania's intelligence service.

Ruhi watched the television as the phones in his office kept ringing. It all didn’t really surprise him. Public tensions had been on the rise for a long while now, it finally had arrived to a boiling point. His eyes wandered from the screen of the television to his staff standing frozen in place. He saw anger, shock, even some denial on their faces, but most of all fear. Fear had gripped them. Finally he turned his attention to the phones and marched into office. He picked up the one he had been avoiding.


“This is Ambassador Olsen,” he answered curtly.


A response came.


“Yes my staff can be ready within a few hours”


Another response.


“That seems excessive. They wouldn’t be so reckless. Are you-”


A final response.


“Fine.”


He hung up the phone. He looked once more at his staff through the doorway and whistled his fingers loudly. Silence fell over the room.


“Alright people. We’ve been officially terminated. You know the protocols. Shred everything. Be ready to get on the buses by 0700. Have your passports and paperwork ready to go now. You won’t have another chance.”


Everyone began to murmur. They started to make way to their desks. Before they could get too far however Ruhi spoke up once more.


“One last thing though. Any courantist staff. Ditch any iconography you have. You’re now atheists if anyone asks.”


Many of the staff members looked despondent at the statement. He walked back to his office but paused at the door. Ruhi watched his secretary stare at locket she had it fell into a trash can. She looked to him. He stared back. In that fleeting moment he knew exactly what he had to do. He waved over one of the many military personnel hustling through the hallways.


“What can I do for you sir?” responded the private.


“I need you to serve your country son,” Ruhi said pulling him off to the side.

---

Everyone had boarded the buses and were only waiting for the armed escorts to take the lead out of the parking lots. Ruhi had opted to sit with his staff on one of the buses. He wouldn’t leave them now. The soldier he had spoken with earlier board the bus and yelled out a confirmation to his officers. The vehicle lurched forward and everyone gave a breath of relief to be moving. As the buses made their way, Ruhi looked out his window staring at some of the people on the streets. He could only hope his final message would be well received to the Oclusi people. A proud burgundy and white flag flew over the embassy. Ruhi looked at the soldier and gave a smile. The private couldn’t help but smile back.

Volodymyr Svrtan sat at his desk, using his breath to roll a pen as far as he could across his desk before the slight slope made it roll back, over and over again. He had to find amusement in the smallest of things these days, and today, it was playing with the things on the desk. He snatched the pen and cleared his throat with a forced smile as the office door swung open. Svrtan quickly tried to make it look like he had been working as his advisor strolled in with a thick Manila folder tucked under his arm.

"Vasha..how can I help you?" Svrtan croaked, clearing his throat again, far more aggressively. "How can I help you?" he repeated. "Sir, have you heard what has happened in Oclusia?" Vasha asked, placing the folder on the desk. Svrtan glanced down at the folder, and back up at Vasha, who seemed to be waiting for him to begin reading the contents of the folder. He raised his eyebrows and made an impatient hand gesture, "Are you going to tell me? Or..." Svrtan asked, looking at his advisor with an impatient stare.

"Everything is in the.."

"I'm not reading all that, Vasha."

"Sir..its all in the uh..."

"No." Svrtan said smugly, pushing the folder back across the desk with his pen.

"Long story short, they've begun condemning and persecuting Courantists. Quite publically might I add, sir." Vasha rushed.

Svrtan threw his hands up and leaned back in his chair, pressing the cap of the pen against his temple. "How is this a Yamanta problem? Why does this affect us? We have enough things to worry about here, within our own borders." he said with deep exasperation. Vasha leaned onto the desk, staring incredulously at Svrtan. "This is our chance to make a stand on a major issue, and show the rest of Meterra, hell, the rest of Eras, that we aren't just lazy do-nothings!" Vasha hissed. Svrtan simply raised his eyebrows and leaned back in, poking at Vasha's hands with the fountain pen. "You're leaving handprints on the mahogany again, Vasha." Svrtan said quietly, now jabbing at his fingers.

Vasha pulled his hands away, shaking them vigorously, as he looked at the Premier disdainfully. Svrtan let out a tiny sigh, and waved off his advisor. "I will make a statement. Just leave me alone." Svrtan muttered, rolling his eyes.

A few hours later, a hastily written statement was read aloud over the Yamanta State Broadcast service.
"From the office of Premier Volodymyr Svrtan! The government of Yamantau hereby condemns the persecution of Courantists in Oclusia. If the government of Oclusia does not cease in their religious persecutions, the Premier shall be forced to impose heavy sanctions upon Oclusia."

The condemnation was quick, and informal, but it didnt matter to Svrtan anyways. The likelihood he would have to act on his hollow threats was minor at best.

29 September 2019

The government of Illderia is deeply disturbed about the situation in Oclusia and is concerned about the future of the couranist population. His Majesty's Government strongly advises the Oclusian government to withdraw the laws regarding the freedoms of the couranist population.

Illderian Embassy staff will be recalled and security and medical staff increased. In addition Illderia will be loosening up its migration laws to allow couranists who are living in Oclusia to seek shelter and escape prosecution within our embassy. His Majesty Government will also help the surrounding nations with their humanitarian efforts.

Illderia also closes all economic channels with Oclusia until the situation gets better and hereby denounces the Oclusian government for its actions.

To the Government of the Democratic Republic of Oclusia,

The recent activities of the Democratic Republic of Oclusia with regards to its discriminatory and unjustified treatment of its Courantists population its absolutely appalling, even for any nation on Eras, no one should face discrimination or hardships purely on the basis of their creed. It is an embarrassment for your nation and the entire international community that your foolish actions where considered and then actually implemented. It is a further embarrassment for the poor justifications that have been used by your nation in attempts to justify the violation of the Courantists peoples everyday livelihoods and basic rights to live normal lives no matter what creed they follow. Due to your abhorrent actions with the implementation of these outrageous laws, Ulstome hereby condemns your actions.

Unless your turn away from this disastrous and unjust path then, despite Ulstome not being a Courantist country, will take action. We have ordered sanctions to be implemented until and only when the repeal of these laws is carried out in full. Any Courantist in Oclusia may apply for refugee status to Ulstome and they will be warmly welcomed into our nation as friends and with open arms, any Courantist from Oclusia in Ulstome will be allowed to remain within the nation until the repeal of said laws. All Ulstome peoples living in Oclusia, regardless of creed, are encouraged to return to Ulstome. The Ulstome embassy in Oclusia will remain however, although any breach of its area for any reason will not be tolerated. The nations surrounding Oclusia, such as our PGU ally the Federation of Yalkan, will be provided with humanitarian aid, aswell as that any refugees who have fled to these nations will still be allowed to come to Ulstome.

Do not continue along this foolish path, it will only end poorly for Oclusia and her people. Repeal all of the laws and work towards a tolerant and prosperous future. Make the right decision.

,Foreign and PGU minister, Henry Romson

The Lawspeaker of the Stortinget stood up, bringing the room to attention. His powerful voice traveled across the chambers, giving authority and reason to the debates.

"The tally is up. On the issue of Imposing Sanctions against the Oclusian State, and its president, Yermolayevich, effective Monday, September 30, 2019 Anno Domini. The Ayes win, 286 votes to 52 votes. The ayes have it."

The chamber erupted in applause. A broadly bipartisan bill was passed smoothly and without hassle. What comes next would be easy.

---

To whom it may concern:

Goyanes has been made aware of the recent developments in the political scene in Oclusia and we are disgusted by what has happened. As a nation not only of a rich Courantist tradition, but one that respects the rights and dignities of all people of the world, we are deeply troubled by this. The persecution of Courantists, both economic and social, as well as limiting the free movement of peoples out of the country, is appalling, and as such, we are morally obliged to act.

The Imperial Goyanean Federation unilaterally condemns Oclusia and its president, Yermolayevich, for the actions taken on people of the Courantist faith. In addition, according to the Oclusion Sanctions Act of 2019, effective Monday, September 30, Goyanes will be imposing economic sanctions against the Oclusian state. We hope that this pressures the government to rethink their decisions, and choose the moral high ground.

The Foreign Ministry is working with our embassy and consulates to assist any Occlusians who wish to claim asylum in Goyanes. We will also be working with Yalkan to alleviate any possible refugee situation. Beginning Monday, we will begin offering expedited asylum claims and waiving application fees.

In conclusion, we hope that the Oclusian government rethinks its actions before something graver consumes its nation.

Beaconsviði- The developing situation in northern Meterra continues to have impacts at home. Hundreds of Courantists took to the streets of Haland- the largest hub of Courantists in Prydania- to protest the actions of the Oclusian regime. Cardinal Villads Dalgaard addressed the crowd in central Haland, calling for the condemnation of the Oclusian government's "wicked acts." Burning Oclusian flags were not uncommon, and police were dispatched to keep the crowd from becoming violent.
The crowd erupted into applause when news broke that His Majesty had signed into law condemnations and sanctions against Oclusia soon after they had passed through the Alþingi. Oclusian economic interests in Prydania are minimal, and so the acts are mostly symbolic. Still, the news was welcomed by the crowd.

"I believe it sends a message that not everyone is going to allow such religious intolerance" Lis Westergaard, one of the protesters, commented.

Other religious leaders have chimed in. Archbishop Cecilie Steen of Saurum, a leading spiritual authority in the Prydanian branch of the Laurenist Church, called on President Yermolayevich to reconsider his government's stance and called for a peaceful solution to be found.
"We are all children of Christ, though we find refuge in different churches. I plead to President Yermolayevich of Oclusia. Please find the humanity and love of the Messiah in your fellow countrymen."

Ari Bohr, Gadol of the Prydanian Shaddaist community, was less diplomatic.
"We were where the Courantists of Oclusia were not too long ago. We pray to Shaddai to see our fellow man through this hardship, but we must also remember Shaddai is with us on Eras. President Yermolayevich's regime is criminal and must be dealt with as such."

Diplomatically the situation is complicated. The Grand Duchy of Gotmark, itself troubled by religious strife with Courantist communities, has called for a less confrontational approach to the situation and has condemned sanctions of Oclusia. This places Prydania in opposition to its PGU ally, an issue made more muddy by the presence of Gotmark Geldkrieger in Prydania and Gotmark's pledge to use the Geldkrieger to resist any direct actions taken against Oclusia.

"We are in constant contact with our allies" a spokesman for the Prime Minister's office remarked.
"We are working towards peaceful solutions on all fronts. This is a tense situation, but no one wants it to degenerate."

Sarazed- The Oclusian Courantist Crisis has shaken up the National Election campaign with major candidates expressing their opinions on the developing situation.
"I don't believe the Oclusian government is justified" Prime Minister Yamesh stated. A strong Conservative-National government will do what it can through diplomacy and the Iterian League to force a peaceful resolution to this humanitarian crisis."

Taneli Gadi took the lead for the opposition bloc, echoing her opponent's statements.
"We stand firm against all forms of religious discrimination. We must not be afraid to call President Yermolayevich illegitimate."

It was the Great Temple in Adonai-Jireh that had the most pointed response, however. Dayyan Midbar Gadi's office only released this when asked by IBC Iraelia News for a statement.
"What is wicked to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole of the Mikra. The rest is the explanation. I suggest that President Yermolayevich go and learn."

Greetings from the Republic of Cardinele,

The government of the Republic is extremely saddened and disappointed that the Oclusian government has decided to start discriminating against and persecuting the innocent Courantists of Oclusia. Upon hearing of such, the Courantists of Zei Killars and Ajea have demanded that our state do what we can.

and such, the government of Cardinele is contacting you with condemnation, along with this, denouncement; of both President Lyovkin Yermolayevich and the Oclusian Government that intends to allow these barbaric and outright evil acts to happen. This truly is a stain on the reputation of Orthodox Messianists as a whole.

L'Indépendant > Mercanti > Top Stories



by Marie-Catherine Landrin-Blanquart in Saintes, with reports from Jérôme Begouën in Douvres and Denis Péralte de Lemouse in Avéry
SAINTES – the escalating crisis in the Democratic Republic of Oclusia is now spreading across northern Meterra as Courantist refugees try to escape the country.

Recipe for Disaster
Last week, the Oclusian government imposed economic, social, and civil restrictions on Courantist citizens, including discriminatory labeling of businesses, curfew for people of Courantist faith, and subjection to arbitrary searches and arrest. Moreover, Courantists are forbidden to move out of the country on the pain of death and/or detention. These slew of discriminatory laws against the Courantists effectively turned them into second-class citizens and drew condemnation from numerous countries and the Courantist Pope.

Santonian Minister of Foreign Affairs Marcelline Tréhet sent a diplomatic note to Minsk to “urge the Oclusian government to rescind such laws”. Ms Tréhet then opened doors to Oclusian Courantists who want to emigrate from Saintonge’s northern neighbour.

Unconfirmed reports of Oclusian Courantists trying to flee Oclusia multiplied during the past few days. The Royal Santonian Armed Forces, in charge of Saintonge’s borders (Saintonge has no separate border guard force), had beefed up presence on its northern border.

Refugees arrive in Saintonge by sea
The Oclusian crisis is threatening to become a full-blown refugee crisis. Yesterday, the overloaded Oclusian skiff Biaspieku was escorted by Royal Santonian Navy patrol vessels Douarnenez and Vauxrenard to the harbour of the northern town of Douarnenez (Côtes-du-Nord). Biaspieku was at sea for three days, evading Oclusian ships, before running out of fuel while in Santonian territorial waters. Biaspieku was carrying fifteen refugees from Oclusia, having set off with a sister boat. This sister boat, according to Captain Adrien-Ouën Kenscoff of Douarnenez, drifted off from Biaspieku two nights ago and is still missing. The Royal Santonian Navy is launching a search for the sister boat within Santonian waters and in international waters.

The town of Douarnenez showed a warm welcome to the refugees. Donations of clothes, footwear, blankets, and food were dropped off by townsfolk at the mairie of Douarnenez. “The outpouring of support for our guests is overwhelming,” said David-Judicaël de Tanoüarn, mayor of Douarnenez. “The refugees lost everything, we’ll be helping them get back on their feet.” The refugees’ migrant and asylum status are being processed by the Santonian Bureau of Immigration and Integration (Agence d’immigration et d’intégration, AII) branch in the departmental capital of Douvres.

“We’re happy that Saintonge has opened its ports and doors for us,” said one of the refugees Heinrich (not his real name), an Oclusian citizen of half-Aleman descent and of Courantist faith. “I pray our companions are found by Santonians. If they are found by Oclusians, they will be imprisoned or killed.”

Refugees arrive in Saintonge by land
At the other end of the country, villagers in Caldès-de-Reine (Sebre) found an Oclusian family-of-four lost in the forest within Santonian territory. The village is located six kilometres from the border between Saintonge and Oclusia. The family had been hiding from Oclusian authorities and border guards before crossing an unfenced and unguarded segment of the border high up in Montgrêle ("Hail Mountain"). Their asylum applications were being processed in the AII in Avéry.

Asylum for refugees
Santonian Minister of Justice Brice-Thibault Bardoux de Rosencoat said that the AII will be expediting the review of cases for refugees who want to apply for asylum status in Saintonge under the 1913 Asylum Rights Law (1913 Loi des Droits d’Asile). Moreover, the Second Flahault Law (1919 Loi Flahault II) also gives preference to Courantists who want to immigrate into Saintonge. Mr Bardoux de Rosencoat said that “in these times, we will assist a neighbor in need.”

translation by Kyle MacTaggart-de Flesselles

---

OOC: Post pre-approved with Oclusia.

"Sir, how are you handling the heat from the international community?" The President was interrupted in the mix of his thoughts until his senior advisor. He paced on his marble floor in full suit-dress. He sighed aloud and looked out the window at the streets of Minsk. The sun was over the city and the grass was gleaming. He looked at his advisor and shook his head. "Sir, please, reconsider your laws. These laws are unjust towards innocent people," he pleaded. Lyovkin Yermolayevich looked at the advisor. "I know what I am doing, please do not question me," he said emotionlessly. The advisor, Tatarov Yuliy, looked back at him. "Sir, you don't know what you are doing! You are breaking apart families. You are hurting innocent people. You are hurting your people!" he shouted loud enough that people all the way in Saintonge could hear him. Rage and annoyance flared up inside President Yermolayevich. "Get the fuck out of my sight you miserable, treasonous piece of scum!" he yelled as he motioned towards the door. He looked at the papers on his desk. Those made him even angrier.

"I will not leave. I know what's best. You are targetting an innocent group of people, and for what?" the advisor shouted,
"Get your ass out before I call the guards!" the commander-in-chief screamed,
"Why should I?" the advisor retorted, "You of all people should get out, you national disgrace!"
"One last goddamn warning!" he yelled, "Get. Out. You. Motherfucking. Traitor,"

Senior Advisor, Tatarov Yuliy, stared down the president and looked him right in the eyes. "What happened to you? You used to give two shits about your people. You used to care about the people of Oclusia. You used to not want to hurt a fly. You used to visit Courantists in places of worship. You used to participate in Courantist Church services. You have changed in three years of office." Yermolayevich glared at Yuliy. Yuliy was not intimidated. He glared right back at him. Yermolayevich picked up the phone. "Get some guards up here right now..." he said as he stared right into Yuliy's eyes. The guards who were on break entered the ellipsoidal room. They looked down the advisor. President Yermolayevich looked at the guards before looking back towards his advisor. "I gave you the warning to retreat. Consider yourself fired..." he declared. Yuliy looked right back into Yermolayevich's eyes. "You are hurting your own people and you don't even care! It's wrong what you are doing. Courantists should have the freedom to practice their own religion without having to worry about being threatened by their home country. You have spoken out against racism, but not you are being anti-Courantists and making laws to justify yourself. Your bullshit excuses behind this are not necessary. You are fucking up everything our forefathers worked their asses off for. Courantists have helped build the society that we know and love today, but you disregard that and blame them for all of our problems! God will get you! Our Holy Father will get you and you will pay. He will punish you in the way he seems suitable." Yermolayevich looked right into his eyes. "You keep telling yourself that in jail," he smirked. Without another word, the advisor was taken away.

He came right back to what he was doing before. On his desk, he had a letter in which he was going to copy and send out to the leaders of Syrixia, Prydania, Cardinele, Ulstome, Saintonge, Predice, Essalanea, Highton, Illderia, and Yamantau as well as Pope John IX. He sat back in his desk and continued writing. Thoughts of what his advisor said came through his head. "You are hurting your own people and you don't even care! It's wrong what you are doing!"
"You have spoken out against racism, but not you are being anti-Courantists and making laws to justify yourself!"
"You are fucking up everything our forefathers worked their asses off for!"
"God will get you! Our Holy Father will get you and you will pay. He will punish you in the way he seems suitable."
He yelled to the top of his lungs. He slammed his fist on the desk when he finished writing. He picked up his wine glass and threw it across the room until it shattered. "I will endure! I am the only leader who has addressed this issue!" he screamed. He finished up his letter and copied them with the copy machine in the office before he sent them off. "I am the guardian of Oclusia and I will keep my people safe!" he shouted.

"Hello Iraelia. Nittai Shay reporting live from the Great Temple in Adonai-Jireh at what is expected to be a historic occurrence. Midbar Gadi, Dayyan of Shaddai, is scheduled to speak with the media. Such occurrences are exceedingly rare, but sources within the Temple state that the Dayyan wished to 'speak to the people of the world' concerning the Oclusian Courantist Crisis."

The camera shows a grand hall and a podium, depicting a rainbow-coloured Shaddaist star, the emblem of the Temple and Dayyan. Reporters and cameramen eagerly away the Dayyan's emergence. Suddenly doors at the end of the hall behind the podium open and the Dayyan- an elderly man in black robes with white detailing, a full grey beard, and a pair of understated eye glasses, emerges. Cameras go off as the Dayyan makes his way to the podium. He adjusts his glasses and shuffles through papers, before leaning into the microphone.

"Good evening. As I am speaking to you all on this, the first day of the year 5780, I would like to wish you all, and Shaddaists the world over, l'shanah tovah um’tukah*. May the following year be happy and healthy for all of you."

The Dayyan then raised his hands in the sign of the priestly blessing

"Barukh atah Adonai, Shaddai, melekh ha'olam, borei p'ri hagafen, shehakol nih'yeh bid'varo**."

The Dayyan lowers his hands, and readjusts his glasses after delivering a conventional prayer.

"It saddens me to feel compelled to speak to the world on such matters, but this is the path placed before me. Earlier today my office was asked by the media..."

He gestures to the reporters before him

"...for a statement regarding the events in Oclusia. I know many have questioned whether I wrote it myself, and I wish to tell you all I did. You are correct to attribute the statement to me directly. The confusion, however, has left me contemplative. I felt compelled to speak. To avoid confusion, yes, but also..."

he angrily raises a finger

"...to speak to the world. My office is one of solitude. The Cohens and Gadols of the world serve as the teachers and leaders of our people and our communities. My path is one of reflection, contemplation, and service to Shaddai within His temple. It is a path that, while necessary, leaves one isolated from the world. And there are times when we can mistake such isolation for a responsibility to be silent. Yet even the Dayyan can be humbled by remembering the words of the great thinkers of the past."

he chuckles

"As Cohen Navot once said 'if not for them, who? If not for myself, then for us all.' We must remember we each have a responsibility to our fellow man to be just and fair and denounce wickedness. If I do not stand up for my fellow man, who will in my place? What part of my soul have I lost by passing my responsibilities on to someone else?"

The Dayyan finds a paper among the many on his podium and holds it up. It's the communique issued by the President of Oclusia earlier that day

"This letter contains the words of an evil man!"

The Dayyan shakes the letter angrily

"President Yermolayevich attempts to justify the oppression of his fellow countrymen, and he demands all stay silent as these events effect only Oclusia. To President Yermolayevich I remind him of the words of the Prophet Yetsir. 'When one soul is harmed the world is diminished.' Right and wrong, the love Shaddai has for all of His children, it does not stop, nor is it segregated, by lines on a map. Your actions are wicked President Yermolayevich."

He shakes the letter again before setting it down

"Who gives to the poor and needy will not want, but he who hides his eyes will get many a curse. I pray to Shaddai that He not curse all of Oclusia for the wickedness of a few. Thank you all...I will try my best to answer your questions."

Reporters all jump up vying for attention and the Dayyan points to one.

"You...the young man who looks like his mother doesn't feed him, in the blue blazer."

A skinny man in his late 20s or early 30s stands up in a stylish blue suit and conditioned hair stands up, chuckling nervously

"Thank you Dayyan, Lichai Gedaliah from the Sarazed Times. Your earlier statement, which you have confirmed came from you, read 'What is wicked to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole of the Mikra. The rest is the explanation. I suggest that President Yermolayevich go and learn.' What did you mean by that, exactly?"

"I meant what I said. I believe there are many things President Yermolayevich should endeavour to learn. Next question. Yes, you. The young woman in the sports jacket, in the back. Yes."

"Tzippi Lori, IBC Iraelia News. Dayyan, are you not concerned that calling the head of state of Oclusia 'wicked' will inflame tensions?"

"Young lady, I command no armies. No diplomats answer to me. I get no security briefings, and I assure you the Cabinet would say no if I ever thought to ask."

He chuckled

"I am unconcerned for diplomatic niceties. I allow the politicians of this world to deal in those, if they think it will help. That is their role. Mine is a spiritual one, and I act in the name of Shaddai, of righteousness in His name. I see wickedness, I call it wickedness. Next question. Yes you, in the tan suit."

A man in a tan suit stands.

"Orion Isaskhar, ITV News. Dayyan, have you been in contact with the Papacy, or Pope John IX?"

"I have briefly spoken with Pope John, yes, but only to convey my prayers and support. As you might expect this is a trying time for him and I believe he needs his privacy when he can find it. Not me pestering him."

"Followup. Is there anything you would like to say to the Courantist community?"

"Only that the people of Shaddai pray with them in common cause, and we pray for their swift delivery from this trial. May Shaddai protect and keep His children, the world over. Thank you all. No further questions."

The Dayyan turns, retreating back up the hall in the Great Temple as reports desperately ask for one more question, cameras clicking.

"And that was the Dayyan, making a rare public address before the Great Temple. This has been Nittai Shay, reporting from Adonai-Jireh."

---

*may you have a good and sweet new year

**Blessed are you, Lord, Shaddai, sovereign of the universe, Who creates the fruit of the vine, Who made all things exist through His word.

"We would like to further note that any Courantist caught trying to cross the border into the nations of Yalkan, Nurbolav, or even Saintoge will be met with detention or death at the border. We need to get our nation back on our feet, and we in the Oclusi government hereby activate these laws to even the playing field for the time being. God bless the Democratic Republic of Oclusia."

His mom shut off the television and paced around the room. He looked at his sisters, Annelies and Bella. He looked back at his dad and mom. He was emotionless. He looked down at the floor as he couldn't hold back tears. He then met the gaze of Annelies. He wiped the tears off of his face and faced her. "Anne, we will be okay, you just need to believe me," he said. He said this, but he didn't know how true his words were. He looked out the window. The leaves of summer were turning red. The breeze blew a leaf to the window. He put his head down. He looked out the window. His mom came over. She was scared if anything. "You can't trust these people, sweetie," she said, "You need to leave. We will hold down the fort for you. We need you to spread the word to the nation of Yalkan what is happening to us," she said. The boy looked back at her. "Where did Dad go?" he asked her. "Akachi, I can't tell you where he is as it would be a massive danger to tell you."

The boy nodded as he went upstairs and packed a backpack. He kept his head down as he packed a certain amount of clothes. He looked at the beds of his sisters next to his. He sighed before he took a seat. He never realized how soft and comfortable it was. Akachi knew that the mission that he was going on would be something that he wouldn't come home from. He took a deep breath and he had to digest what his mother told him about his father. The words did not make much sense to him.
"Akachi, I can't tell you where he is as it would be a massive danger to tell you."
"What do these words mean!" he shouted to himself before he drew out any possible outcomes. None of them made sense to him and he grew frustrated as he just wanted to know where his father was. He shook his head and he put his backpack next to his bed and got under the covers. He closed his eyes to take a short sleep just to make the night seem normal. He was nervous and he didn't know what to expect. "Where am I going?" he asked himself,
"The border," a voice in his head told him
"Is it a smart idea? Should I do it?" he questioned,
"You must. The lives of thousands to millions depends on you," the voice said once more,

The clock struck 22:00. He noticed Anne and Bella were asleep in their beds. He took the backpack and got on his shoes and headed downstairs. He saw his mother by the door. She gave him a chaste hug. "I love you, kid," she said as she went back up the stairs. He put his bag down and went back upstairs. He kissed his sisters goodbye. Anne winked open an eye. "Where are you going, brother?" she asked. Akachi didn't know where he was going. It could either be over the border in Yalkan, a detention center, or even dead. "I'm running a few quick errands," he lied. Anne nodded and went back to sleep. He slid down the railing and took the backpack and made a run. He made it to a Coach station and he got underneath the bus and into the cargo hold. The bus was destined for the Yalkan-Oclusi Border. He decided to catch up on some sleep. Hours in, the bus took a stop. The cargo hold door was about to go up. "Shit!" he cursed in a loud whisper. He made his way over behind a bunch of luggage. He held his breath and got down. The passenger grabbed a backpack.

He let go of his breath as soon as the door went back down. He crouched down but was mobile. The bus started moving after what felt like fifteen minutes to him. He felt the bus go onto a dirt patch and immediately, he knew that the bus had arrived at the border. He gathered his backpack and got ready to make a run for it. As soon as the cargo-hold opened, he sprung out. He evaded the two diving bus drivers and made his way through the sandy portion of the barrier. He approached the first fence. This was the one without the barbed wire. Several Border Patrol agents were after him. He jumped the fence and ran up the green, grassy hill. There, he saw a road that had many supply transporters as well as Border Patrol cars leading all around it. He looked right in front of him and he saw the Spine of Mojabe Mountain Range. "I've made it," he said, "Now to cross the border..."

He ran into a supply car that was transporting lunch straight to that part of the border. He crouched down in the food truck until it made the complete stop. He waited for the door in the back to open before he hauled ass out of there. He outran many of the Border Patrol agents and he saw the border in his sights. He sped up looking for freedom. He pumped his fist and got his feet on the fence. The fence made a "CLINK" noise as he stepped on it avoiding the barbed wire. He put one foot over. Then, he felt a tug on his torso. He was brought to the ground. He back up and attempted once more before starting to run for another part. He thought he lost all of them until he was tackled on the road and was arrested by the border guards. "Please!" he yelled, "Let me get over!" The border guards tasered him and they took him to a child detention centre near the border.

L'Indépendant > Mercanti > Top Stories


by Marie-Catherine Landrin-Blanquart in Saintes and Anneliese Kromschröder-Beauguitte in Minsk
MINSK – His Santonian Majesty’s Ambassador to the Democratic Republic of Oclusia, Anne-Maureen Gausserand-Landet, appealed to Oclusian President Lyovkin Yermolayevich and the Oclusian government to allow Oclusian Courantists sheltered inside the Santonian Embassy to emigrate to Saintonge. In a note verbale delivered by the Santonian legation to the government of Oclusia, the Santonian government asked for safe-conduct passes for the still-unknown number of Oclusian Courantists who sought refuge within the chancery and compound of the Royal Santonian Embassy at the outskirts of Minsk.

Desperate refugees
In the chaotic days after the announcement of anti-Courantist legislation in Oclusia, numerous people scaled the walls of the Santonian Embassy in Minsk to seek asylum. In the videos that circulated in the internet, the guards at the embassy mostly ignored the climbers; some guards even helped children and babies across the walls. Minsk Police attempted to pull the refugees from the walls, but the Santonian guards talked to the police to let them be.

The highest embassy official to intervene was the embassy’s First Secretary Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter, who was recorded on video was persuading Minsk Police to let go of three young children who were trying to enter the embassy. The Santonian embassy remained tight-lipped about the incident, but the three children were eventually allowed to enter the embassy thanks to Mr. de Kÿtspotter’s intervention.

A report from local media said that the number of people trying to enter the Santonian embassy was drastically reduced because police had now set up checkpoints along the roads leading to the Santonian embassy.

‘Humanitarian crisis’
Meanwhile, the conditions within the Santonian embassy are rapidly deteriorating. In a press conference yesterday, Santonian Foreign Minister Marcelline Tréhet said that “the Santonian embassy in Minsk is crowded with Courantist refugees.” When pressed for numbers, Ms Tréhet declined to give exact figures, saying that that data is ‘sensitive’ and said that “all I can tell is that the embassy cannot house these refugees in the long-term.”

When asked whether Saintonge will expel the refugees, Ms Tréhet answered that “Saintonge will do everything it can to assist people in need. Ambassador Gausserand-Landet had been given instructions.”

Ms Tréhet further said that “we are urging the Oclusi government to allow Saintonge to evacuate refugees from the embassy to Saintonge. Saintonge is willing to shoulder the cost of the evacuation.”

Saintonge keeps its embassy
Numerous other nations downgraded their diplomatic ties with Minsk following the announcement of anti-Courantist legislation. Syrixia, Highton, Valland, and Illderia have either recalled embassy staff or downgraded diplomatic ties. Several other countries are mulling pulling their diplomatic representation from Minsk.

When asked whether Saintonge will downgrade its diplomatic relations with Oclusia, Ms Tréhet answered, “at the moment, the Kingdom of Saintonge has no plans to cut diplomatic ties with the Democratic Republic of Oclusia. We believe that our diplomatic presence there needed now, more than ever.”

In a comment to a question as to whether Santonian lives are at risk, Ms Tréhet then added, “We Santonians are not Courantists, we are not in any danger. Over the decades, Santonian diplomats have faced dangers as representatives of a neutral power within the capitals of belligerent nations, nations in crises, and nations in war. We have trust in our skilled diplomatic representatives to weather through the crises, and this government will be providing them with the means necessary to meet the challenges and achieve the goals of Santonian diplomacy.”

translation by Kyle MacTaggart-de Flesselles

---

OOC: Post pre-approved with Oclusia.

The breeze of the wind fell across the boy. The last thing he remembered was the border and being tackled to the ground by border patrol from the Democratic Republic of Oclusia. The light is dimmed and everything around him is gone. Nobody is here. Akachi is here lying on a mat unwilling to move and he can’t remember anything anymore. What happened? The boy looks back. Akachi shook his head lightly. "Where am I? What am I doing here?" he asked himself internally

Akachi finally felt enough courage to rise to his feet. He is tired and hungry, and he can’t remember anything that goes on. Akachi rose to his feet and he realized who is around me. There are kids who were his age around him. He shrieked inside. The boy wanted to pinch himself. This was nothing but a huge prank to him. Akachi could hardly believe that this was actually happening. The boy runs over. “Where are my parents!” he yelled aloud to nobody in particular. He wakes up a few people in the cage with him and in the other enclosures around me. He didn’t care that much to be honest.
“Hey, please go back to sleep,” one of his cellmates said,
“Where am I?” Another one asked,
“We should get out of this joint,” An added voice said,
Guards came over trying to shush him as it was the middle of the night. He couldn’t be silenced. Nobody can silence Akachi when he was on a roll. After minutes of standing and banging on the cage, he retreated back to my mat and tinfoil. He cried to himself. He then realized one thing: He is alone even if people are around me. Akachi immediately retreated back to my mattress.

Akachi lay down on the mattress and tried to get back to sleep. He shivered inside my tinfoil blanket. He started to miss his parents and his sisters. He looked down. He was full of sadness inside of this dark, lonesome place. The hours passed and soon he was woken up. The people around him gave him a hand up. He patted them both on the back as they walked as a unit to breakfast. They sat at the breakfast table. He noticed that all of his cellmates were sitting at one table and then there were other units sitting at other tables. He didn't mind this as he sat next to his cellmates. The table was silent. Nobody said a word for what felt like an hour or two. Everyone just stared and ate. Akachi just looked down at the floor. "We get phone calls home," one of them said for what looked like an attempt to cheer him up. "Those are today?" another cellmate questioned. The other nodded and they continued to eat in silence.

One girl took her hand and put it on Akachi's arm. He looked at her. She just looked him dead in the eyes. "It's gonna be okay. We're all gonna get over to Yalkan someday." Akachi was confused on how she knew what he tried to do. She laughed as she looked at him. She punched his shoulder lightly. "We've all tried to get into Yalkan, whether we are Orthodox or not. A few of us have been separated from our parents and a few just straight up ran away when their parents were killed by police." His eyes widened. He wasn't just worried about his wellbeing at this point. He worried about his family. He walked to the phone booth and heard all the conditions and the time limit. He rung up the number and called his parents. Annelies answered the phone.

"Anne? Can you hear me?"

Eskilborg was an unremarkable town 10 km southeast of Beaconsviði. The sort of small town that bordered on a medium-sized one. It had benefited greatly from reconstruction efforts after the Civil War too, in part because of its proximity to the capital. The other reason was that it had been chosen as the headquarters of the ÖSU, Prydania's state intelligence agency.
The ÖSU's location on the eastern side of the town was no secret. Still, the drab set of freshly constructed buildings remained unremarkable, even with the heavy security that kept locals at bay. The drab qualities of the new compound seemed emphasized by the fall weather. The grey skies and orange and brown leaves did the concrete block-esque exterior no favours.

"Maybe that's for the best" Brigadier Caleb Stahl thought as his army jeep escort pulled up.
Max Hveiti, the head of the ÖSU since its re-establishment following the Civil War, was a hard fellow to read. With a certain personal flare that managed to lean into the drab in strange ways. Perhaps he felt that the new buildings should attract as little attention as possible. Maybe he just preferred the blocky concrete look? Who knew with Max.

This wasn't the first time Stahl had been here though. He was part of Army Intelligence and liaisoned with the ÖSU regularly. He was nervous about this visit though. He knew Hveiti wouldn't like it.

"Brigadier" a man in a black tactical uniform said, welcoming him. An ÖSU agent.

"Is he available? I have my orders from the Prime Minister."

"The Chief's ready, yes."

"Alright let's go. I doubt he's any more eager about this than I am."

The agent nodded, guiding the Brigadier into the building's depths before taking a secured elevator to the second to last floor, the soft ding of the elevator only punctuating Stahl's nerves. They followed a sparse hallway before coming to a door, simply marked with a MH. The agent's keycard gained them access and the two entered a sparse waiting room, decorated only with slightly greenish blue carpet, a matching couch to the left, above which hung a small portrait of the King. To their right was a fairly common looking brown wooden desk, staffed by a young woman with auburn hair in a simple ponytail, in professional business causal dress.

"Ms. Sælu, Brigadier Stahl is here to speak to the Chief on orders from the Prime Minister" the agent stated, stepping aside so Stahl could present his paperwork. He handed over his Army ID badge and a copy of his official orders. Ms Sælu nodded, entering the information into her computer.

"Chief Hveiti will see you now Brigadier. Agent Hansen, you'll need to wait here."

"Of course" Hansen, replied, taking a seat at the couch on the other end of the room as Ms. Sælu buzzed Stahl into Hveiti's office, the door quickly closing behind him. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted. The reception area was stark, but well lit. Here? It was mostly dark, save for the glow of numerous monitors and a single desk lamp. A desk the lamp shared with a monitor of its own, and a mess of pop cans.

"Max?" Stahl asked as he entered, seeing the Chief leaning back in his chair but very much focused on the contents of his desk monitor.

"Caleb, always a pleasure" Heveiti replied. A sports jacket was slung over his chair, leaving the Chief dressed in khakis and a predominantly white and green Skandan-style shirt. His beard, usually a bit on the bushier side, was decidedly out of control.

"Jesus Max, how long have you been at that computer?"

"Since the events in Oclusia went down Caleb, not counting time spent to shower, change, and use the toilet" he said matter of factly.

"Well I can see that. Thank God you're showering. Otherwise you look horrible."

Max just shrugged.
"I have agents and sources across northern Meterra. I'm dealing with a constant stream of unfiltered information. It hasn't let up. Yalkan, Oclusia, Saintonge. Everything lit up at once and it hasn't died down. Not just us. Everyone's people in the region. We're only just starting to make sense of everything from an intelligence perspective. There's still no new status quo. It's all up in the air."

"You don't have to micromanage everything, you know that right?"

"I do things my way" Max replied, not seeming particularly put out.
"Did Magnus send you to criticize? Or does he actually have something productive for you to do?"

"He wants me to serve as a line of communication from your office to the Cabinet. The Prime Minister wants to be in the loop."

"Well that's going to be difficult" Max said with a shrug.
"There is no loop. At this stage I cannot guarantee that a report I commission now will still include relevant information by the time Magus clicks 'open' on his email."

"What would you like me to tell the Prime Minister then?"

"How about he should let me do my job and trust I will come to him when I have something that he needs to see?"

"He won't like that."

"Yes, and I'm sure someone told Magnus I wouldn't like being checked up on but he still sent you...."
He seemed lost in his screen for a moment.

Stahl sighed and dragged a chair from the far side of the room to the other side of the desk, sitting down.
"Well tell me what's happening."

"Micro-activity" Max muttered.

Stahl nodded. He wasn't ÖSU but he was Army Intelligence. He knew the trade.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"An opening."

"For?"

"Killing Lyovkin Yermolayevich" Max shrugged.

"What?" Stahl nearly shot out of his chair.
"You can't be serious." Max, however, just rolled his eyes.

"Calm down. We're nowhere near that being a possibility. But I'm letting you know, if one of my operatives has a chance? We need to pull the trigger. Metaphorically speaking."

"You can't issue a warrant of assassination for a head of state. You need the Cabinet and the King's approval."

"That could take a while" Max shrugged again.
"So it's a good thing I'm telling you now, before it's likely to happen, so you can run that up the flagpole and get Magnus and His Majesty to salute. So if the chance does arrive we can act quickly."

"Max, you know I'm not a politician."

"Yep, it's why I like you."

"I have terrible political instincts."

"Probably because you're a decent, all around guy..." Max replied.

"And even I can tell you why killing President Yermolayevich is a terrible idea. The p..."

"ower vacuum, yes" Max grumbled.

"And you're willing to set Oclusia, and possibly the rest of northern Meterra, on fire then?"

"It's all about calculated risk, Caleb. This didn't come out of nowhere. Our sources indicated a spike in anti-Courantist sentiment in Yermolayevich's administration half a year ago. This was all passed along to the Prime Minister. No one took any action. Not that I blame anyone. I was as shocked as anyone else was. It's one thing to fear monger. It's another to turn the clock back to the Imperyk and start actively endorsing state-sponsored violence..."

"So what? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Yalkan has PGU backing. At least backing by enough PGU members to keep it relatively insulated if Oclusia falls apart. Saintonge is vulnerable to a degree, but the government there is strong enough to withstand a crisis in Oclusia if it's an inward crisis. Which a power vacuum caused as the result of a dead dictator would be."

"So you want to throw Oclusia into chaos, but to what end?"

"Caleb, did you ever read my report?"

"Problematic Populism? Yes."

"Yermolayevich isn't new. I'm sure he fancies himself the shield of his nation or whatever claptrap tyrants like him like to call themselves these days, but he's not new. He's Stephan Toft. He's Thomas Nielsen. He's a populist. It's not about left or right, it's about charisma and violence as a means to hang onto power. We had to suffer through two Yermolayevichs in Prydania and our country nearly fell apart. And apparently...well it didn't get the message across to the world as a whole."

"What message?"

"Populism represents chaos, instability, death, and destruction. It's the single greatest enemy to the stable world order we're all trying to hopelessly claw for. Oclusia falling into utter chaos because their strongman president caused enough agitation that he got shot will discredit the subconscious populist movement. The next loudmouthed rage beast who gets up on a soapbox to talk about harassing this group or that group will have a harder time selling himself when people go "look what happened to Yermolayevich and Oclusia."

"Thousands...hell, millions, could die if we throw Oclusia into chaos."

"We're all going to be dead anyway Caleb. Why do we bother doing anything? It's so that there's something worthwhile for the people who come after we're dead."

Stahl stood, stretching a bit.
"I'll take your proposal to the Cabinet, but I very much doubt they're going to say yes."

"Well in that case I'll see you soon Caleb. I'll try to clean up the pop cans next time."

"Appreciate it Max. Try not to start a world war while I'm gone."

"You never let me have my fun."

"Goodbye Max."

Heveiti just waved, eyes glued to his screen as Stahl left. Unsure how he was going to present that to the Prime Minister.

It was hot. Not only was it hot, it was dark. And as if to add to the lovely sundae of fun things Vali had on his plate, he was miles from his bunk, hiking on a dirt road with his section. It had barely been a month since his arrival and he still had not gotten a reasonable answer as to why they couldn’t drive along the border road in the plethora of jeeps they had. Something about food being cheaper than fuel.


The real kicker was now they were on heightened security. Double shifts for most. He really shouldn’t be complaining he thought. At least he lived there. The refugees on the other hand seemed emotionless to the whole ordeal. On the one hand Vali took pity on them and their plight. He could barely imagine leaving his town let alone fleeing from his own country. Yet on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement at the prospect of running into people crossing over. Personally he had not seen it happen. Helping these people was something he could be proud of.


His eyes scanned towards the border itself as they walked. A a double wired fence occupied the Oclusian side. Only wooden posts marked where Yalkan’s actual border began. A stark difference he thought. He wondered what he would do if he was on the other side. Would he make a break for it? Were things that bad in Oclusia? He felt fairly out of depth when it came to international politics and religious tensions. Curiosity got the best of him. He turned to the squad mate behind him.


“Hey. Hey Ivy!”


“What is it?” he responded.


“You’re courantist right?”


“Barely. Why?”


“Would...if you were on the other side would you try to cross over?”


Ivy chortled at the question. “I wouldn’t bother. Running from problems has never worked out for me,” he said curtly,”Besides I’d probably be heading the start of a glorious revolution!”


“I’m being serious Ivy! It must be pretty bad if they are trying to cross. I can’t imagine being stuck in my own home. I think I’d try to make a go of it.”


“I’m being serious too. I’d love to see them try and take me down,” he responded. As if to hammer his point Ivy had drawn his knife in a mock ready to fight position already laughing. “And of course you would cross, a light breeze could scare you, let alone armed men. Are you afraid of the big bag Oclusi coming to take your dear Ivy away?”


Vali could only respond with an obscene gesture encouraging Ivy to kiss his posterior. He turned forwards trying to ignore Ivy’s laughter as they continued their patrol. He looked towards the border once more. Every time he looked he swore he saw people. Merely tricks being played by his brain he thought. He was bored. He almost felt guilty for feeling bored. The non-stop rhythmic crunching of gravel under his boots however argued a better point. Ivy had mentioned revolution. Vali wondered what sort of revolution he would be apart of. He turned once more his squad mate to ask. He was greeted by Ivy looking through his binoculars and shouting ‘Movement right!’

The boy's phone call lasted a long time, at least to him. When Annelies finally hung up, the last thing he told her was "I hope everything back home is okay." Annelies held the phone close to her. Her face became blank. She took a deep sigh, but kept it inside. "Yes. Everything is fine," she said in a tone that made her seem sad. Akachi was blind to her emotions. He hung up and Annelies sat back with her book right in front of her. She sighed again as she grabbed her backpack and headed to school with her best friend. She walked with her the whole time until she was stopped by the cops. She rolled her eyes. "Miss, do you know why you are being stopped?" the officer said. Annelies shook her head. "No, but I assume you're about to tell me," she said. The officer was taken back. "You will not talk to me that way," he said. Annelies stared right into his eyes. "Why did you pull me over?" she asked. The officer smiled. "You're out early," he replied as he gave her a stamp on her forehead. "That's a warning missy."

She turned into the coffee shop that was marked for Courantists with her friend. They each bought hot chocolates and they waited for the clock to strike eight. She waited as if she was a bored old lady. She wrote down in a book. What seemed like a story turned into pages. Her friend pointed at it. "I plan on making a novel to give to my brother when we unite again," she said. Her friend nodded. She continued to write until the clock struck eight. They set out once again. She walked the back way around the middle of the city to get to school to avoid getting harassed by unknown individuals. As soon as they made it to class, she felt her coat get hit by something. A tomato. She looked at the source and she immediately shook her head.

She walked her way to class and the only thing on her mind was her brother. "Where is he?" she asked herself aloud. She thought of every possible place he could be. "What if he got captured?" she asked aloud. Her classmates shook their heads. "He's probably fine. Now get back to work please so we can finish this," they each said. She looked at all of them before getting back to the work she needed to get done. She looked out of the window. A man was surrounded by police officers. He had his hands up. Next thing she saw, the man was tackled to the ground. She even thought that she heard the mounties say, "Courantist impurities like you deserve nothing but to be locked up and never seen again." She was disgusted.

---

DETENTION CENTER 18A

Akachi looked outside the window. He was growing more and more miserable and discouraged by the day. He was cold at night and he was unable to sleep. He had to work all day and he had to be in a cage full of seventeen or so fellow children and two of which were infected with a virus that was either influenza or the common cold. He was miserable in this cage. They were woken up and had to get into lines or else they would all get beat by the guards. That was the last thing he wanted for himself and for the people around him. He walked up to his cellmates. "I can't stay here," he said to them. They each agreed. "The conditions are terrible," another cellmate said. He nodded his head and he got ready to make an escape. Then, a special delivery came. "Blankets!" one person yelled. Immediately, Akachi devised a plan.

He walked up to each and everyone in his unit. "Pack your backpacks. Instead of your work gear, pack your necessities and a blanket. We are making a run for it tomorrow during work and we are going over the mountains," he said. They all looked at him as if he was crazy. "Just trust me," he said, "Those Oclusi Border Patrol agents won't know what happened to us."

OOC - Not as good as I hoped, but eh. It works

Magnus rubbed his temples as the cabinet erupted into a chaos of shouting.

"Enough!" the usually jovial old man barked.
"Harald, you cannot possibly be serious."

"I am" Harald Daae, Minister of Foreign Affairs, insisted.
"We've all seen Krough's reports from the PGU. Gotmark is just this side of cheering the Oclusian government on. We most certainly should issue a travel warning for Gotmark for Prydanian Courantists."

"You have to know what that will mean, in the context of PGU politics..." an exacerbated Magnus replied.

"I do" Harald shot back.
"Which is why I'm suggesting it. Gotmark needs a diplomatic bomb tossed into the lap."

"Harald, we have Geldkreiger in Prydania. Gotmark has made it clear they're willing to use them. And now you want me to turn around and give Gotmark the diplomatic equivalent of the middle finger? I won't do that."

"If Gotmark is going to threaten to aid a regime breaking families apart and denying people their huma..."

"I will not let one disagreement in an international forum..."

"Gotmark picked their side when..."

"Do not interrupt me while I am interrupting you!" Magnus bellowed, causing the room to go quiet.

"The PGU has, in many ways, been a saving grace for this county" Magnus began again, calmly.
"As I said. I will not let one disagreement put us on a course of action that will lead to destructive fractioning in the PGU."

"For God's sake, everyone" he continued, "these are insane times to be sure. All the more reason for level-headed sanity to prevail. Let us collect ourselves. Let us find our centres. We mustn't give in to knee-jerk reactions. Gotmark is, at the end of the day, an ally. I pray that they will remain one and I will promise you all this. Should the day come when they are not? It will not be the fault of any government I lead!"

"You have a choice, Magnus" Harald replied, tense.
"Authorize this travel warning or allow Gotmark to continue to champion tyrants on the world stage."

"Don't you see what's happening, old friend? The Oclusians have started this madness and now we're on the verge of diplomatically breaking with Gotmark. We must step back from this ledge and re-evaluate."

Harald's eyes shot around the room before he stood.
"Then you have my resignation."

"Harald, please" Magnus protested, only for Harald to ignore him, leaving the room, the door slamming shut after him.

Magnus just leaned back in his chair as the rest of the cabinet looked at each other, unsure what to say.

"We'll fill his portfolio in due time" Magnus mumbled.
"But we have urgent business that can't wait." He leaned over to his side and pressed a button.
"Send in Brigadier Stahl."

The door opened again as Caleb Stahl entered.
"Mr. Prime Minister, assembler Ministers" he began.
"I'm here reporting on the ÖSU's activities. The short of it is simple. Chief Max Heveiti wants to assassinate Lyovkin Yermolayevich."

Magnus just groaned, resting his head in his hands.
"Why God? Why do you test me like this?" he mumbled to himself.

outskirts of Minsk
1022h

“Thank God for Saintonge,” the Oclusi trader said in Santonian as the embassy official handed him a wad of cash. He was talking in Santonian so that nobody else, save for his foreigner clients, could understand him. “You know, I’m Orthodox, but I’m not really in favour of what the Yermolayevich is doing. Courantists are our neighbours.”

“But it’s good for business, isn’t it?” The embassy official asked. He had literally just cleared out the trader’s store of food, canned goods, fruits, vegetables, hygiene supplies, and other provisions that was needed by the refugees stuck inside the Santonian embassy.

“It’s not,” the Oclusi trader replied, “look at all the sanctions we’re facing. Actually, to be honest with you,” he said, clutching the bundles of Oclusi banknotes, “I’m going to take all this money, close my store, and emigrate. I don’t want to be stuck here when things descend into war.”

“You have a fair point,” the embassy official answered as they turned their attention to the men who were loading boxes upon boxes of goods into two box trucks hired by the Santonian embassy to transport their purchases to the embassy compound. They have a lot of mouths to feed. “I wish everyone here in Oclusia is like you,” the embassy official said.

“Do you think I’d be able to immigrate into Saintonge?” The trader asked. “I know Santonian.”
“Your Santonian is great,” the embassy official complimented him. “That’s a plus point for prospective immigrants. But currently the refugees and asylum seekers would probably be in front of the queue.”
“Understandable,” the trader commented. “See, that’s also the thing. Since Yermolayevich made refugees out of the Courantists here, it became more difficult for me to migrate to Saintonge.”

The embassy official’s chauffeur entered the shop. “Mr. Siegfried, the loading is almost done.”

“Thank you very much for your assistance,” the embassy official told the trader. “I wish you well in your endeavours.”

The Santonians then left the shop to their embassy van, which will be the lead car for the convoy of trucks towards the Santonian Embassy in Minsk.

Once outside, the embassy official’s attention was caught by screams and wails a few storefronts down the street. In this suburb of Minsk, the streets were deserted and most storefronts were largely shuttered, except for that of the trader, the Orthodox-owned businesses, and a few partially-vandalised labeled shops owned by Courantists. The screams and wails came from four children, two boys and two girls, fighting off two Oclusi police officers. The eldest, a boy who looked like in his early teens, was struggling as the police tried to handcuff him. The embassy official nearly let out a gasp as the police officer struck the teenager in the stomach, sending down the boy writhing in pain on the pavement.

The trader also went out to view the commotion. “Poor children,” the trader said.
“You know them?” The embassy official asked.
“The Pflügler children,” the trader said. He pointed to the teenage boy, who had started to stand up, only to be kicked by the police officer back to the pavement. “That’s Matthäus, the oldest. He’s fourteen. The Pflüglers are Courantists of Aleman descent who own that candy shop. The police had arrested and imprisoned their parents three days ago. Now they’re going after the children.”

The embassy official let out a deep breath. “Thank you for the information,” he said to the trader before turning to his chauffeur: “Barth, let’s go to that shop.” The embassy official then went inside the car.
The chauffeur was confused. “We’re going to drive a few metres?”
“Yes, Barth, do as I say.”

Thus, the red official vehicle of the embassy of the Kingdom of Saintonge, complete with its diplomatic vehicle registration tags and fluttering Santonian flags, travelled a hundred metres to the front of the candy shop. The police officers momentarily stopped beating the teenager to look at the new arrival. The Santonian embassy official looked like a VIP, a tall well-built man in suit and tie, driven around by a chauffeur. The embassy official acted oblivious as he stepped out of the car and went to the candy store. The candy store itself was vandalized, with its glass storefront broken and boarded up. On the wooden board and the door, someone had spray-painted an inverted Courantist cross and a slew of Oclusi slurs not fit for print.

In reality, the embassy official was assessing the situation. Matthäus Pflügler lay down agonizingly in pain. The three younger children, presumably his younger siblings, were crying and asking the police officers not to take their brother away. One of the police officers took out a pair of handcuffs to arrest the teenager. The Santonian had to act now.

“Excuse me, I want to buy a special candy,” the embassy official announced loudly. “Can the shop owner assist me in my purchase?” The embassy official looked at the children and the police officers. “Do you know who owns this shop?”
“You should not buy from Courantist shops,” one of the police officers, the fat one, said gruffly.
“But I was instructed to procure that special herbal candy by the Duke of the Comminges. I was told it could only be bought here. Who is the owner?”

Matthäus Pflügler weakly raised his hand, earning another kick from the other police officer.

“Don’t be too harsh Mr. Officer,” the embassy official remarked. “Can you let him give me my candy before you arrest him?”
The two police officers talked between themselves for a while. One of them recognized the newcomer.

“Aren’t you from the Embassy of Saintonge? The one in the video?”
“Yes Mr. Officer, I’m Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter, First Secretary in the Royal Santonian Embassy,” he extended his hand for a shake, which the officers took. “I came here with my official car because I was directed to purchase a supply of the herbal candy. The Duke of the Comminges had special instructions.”

The two police officers looked at each other. The fat one was opposed to letting the Santonian in, fearing it was a ploy. The scrawny one was afraid of the consequences of refusing and was willing to give the Santonian the benefit of the doubt.

“Very well, be quick.”

The police officers let Matthäus Pflügler stand up and enter the shop with the embassy official. After a few minutes, the embassy official poked his head though the broken glass door and called the three younger children and the chauffeur. “We’re going to buy the entire supply because it’s limited,” the embassy official told the police officers. “They’ll be helping carry out the candy supply.” From the outside, the police officers could hear the Santonian official berate the children for not knowing where certain candies were stored, or which was the one that the Duke of the Tyrosse wanted. The police officers smirked; this Santonian official wasn’t as nice as what he seemed from the video. Perhaps he really was here for just the candy.

One after the other, the Pflügler children emerged from the door, each carrying a big box full of candies. They went to the van and tried to put the box in. “Further,” the embassy official said in feigned exasperation. The youngest Pflügler child entered the van to put the box further inside. Matthäus Pflügler helped his youngest sister go in. Kÿtspotter yelled at the children: “Put it further inside so we’ll have more space!” In mock anger, Kÿtspotter pushed the two other children into the van. The chauffeur, emerging from the shop door, then distracted the police officers by intentionally dropping large boxes full of candies and bonbons near the police officers so that they would pick it up. After that few moments of distraction, all of the Pflügler children were inside the Santonian diplomatic vehicle. Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter gleefully closed the van’s doors.

The police officers lunged towards the car’s doors, but Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter put himself in front of the door of the van. “Oops, no touch,” he said cheerily as he held up both of his hands. “You can’t enter the official diplomatic car of the Kingdom of Saintonge.”

The police officers tried to push the Santonian out of the way, but he wouldn’t budge.

“This car is sovereign Santonian territory!” Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter banged his hand on the side of the van. “This car is protected by extraterritoriality. You can’t touch the children here, they’re as safe as if they’re in a Saintes themepark.”

Fatty, visibly angry, drew his gun and aimed it at the Santonian.

Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter raised his arms. “I have no guns.” Discreetly the chauffeur went back to the car to retrieve his weapon in case a firefight broke out. “But I am sure you wouldn’t want to shoot an unarmed representative of a sovereign nation and a neighbouring country, am I right?” Kÿtspotter then gave them a sly smile as the realization sank into the police officers. Saintonge is probably the neighbour Oclusia doesn’t want to infuriate. “You don’t want a diplomatic incident between Oclusia and Saintonge, do you?”

Fatty slowly brought his weapon down. Scrawny then started to reason with the Santonian.
“I will let you know that if you take those children in, you’d be harbouring terrorists,” Scrawny told Kÿtspotter. “There might be dangerous substances inside the shop which you are bringing into your embassy.”

Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter let out a chuckle. “Dangerous substances?” He then brought out a bunch of lollipops and showed it to the police officers. “I agree that these are dangerous substances,” Kÿtspotter said in a sardonic tone as he turned his gaze on Fatty, “Dangerous for the waistline, I guess.”

Fatty was about to raise his gun again, but Scrawny held his partner’s hand down. “Mr. Kittiespotter, you will be abetting crime by taking in these children. These children are criminals!”

“Kÿtspotter,” the diplomat corrected the officer. “I understand if you can’t pronounce my name properly; even most Santonians can’t get it right.” Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter looked at the police officers intently in the eyes. “But what I don’t understand… what crimes did these children commit?”

The police officers scrambled for an answer.

“See, you can’t even tell me what their crimes are,” the Santonian diplomat remarked derisively. “Would it be because they are not criminals as you insist?”
“No, Mr. Kitespewter, they are criminals!”
“Kÿtspotter,” the diplomat said, sighing. His tone became even more assertive as another thought came to his mind. “Also, Mr. Officers, I hope you know that the age of criminal responsibility in Oclusia is sixteen. The oldest of these children” – he pointed to Matthäus – “is fourteen years old. So, by your laws, they can’t even be criminals.”

The police officers fell silent.

Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter opened the van’s door slightly. “If there’s nothing else you want from me, I must go with our sweet haul.”

The Santonian diplomat left the two flabbergasted police officers and then entered his diplomatic vehicle.

As soon as the van’s doors were locked, the chauffeur asked, “Mr. Siegfried, does the Duke of the Comminges really want all these candies?”
Brice-Siegfried de Kÿtspotter howled with laughter. “The Duke of the Comminges does not exist, Barth. I made that up. What we did was just a ruse to fool those police.” The Santonian diplomat turned his head around to look at the back of the van where the children sat. “Right, Matthäus?”
“Ja,” Matthäus answered. “Thank you, Mr. Santonian, for saving us.”
“Just call me Mr. Siegfried,” Kÿtspotter said in Aleman. “You and your brother and sisters will be safe in Saintonge.”
“But what about our parents?”
“We’ll find a way to let them know you’re safe,” Kÿtspotter told them. “But for now, we need to get you to a safe place and treat your wounds.”

The van went on its way to the Santonian embassy, trailed by two trucks emblazoned with flags of Saintonge, a convoy to safety.

---

OOC: Post pre-approved with Oclusia.

Annelies walked back from school. The beautiful sights around Minsk weren't as such anymore. Anne had to remain vigilant in case the mounties were coming for her. She shook that thought off of her mind and made her way to the home she has lived in since she was a little girl. She has had numerous memories in that household. She took a deep breath after she had finally arrived at the dwelling, she noticed one thing out of place; the police cars out in front of the house. She opened the door and she was taken to the ground by an officer before she was allowed access to get up and scramble to her mother. They had their hands up. The officers each had their guns aimed at them.

"Is this all of you?" the officer asked. They each nodded. "Bitch, when I ask you a question, you answer me! Is that understood?" he yelled as if he was getting angrier. "Yes, sir," they each responded. "We know about what your husband is doing. How he's part of an agency that is plotting on couping the president. We know what your son tried to do. He tried to climb the fence at the border to get into Yalkan!" he shouted. "Tried?" Annelies whispered down to herself. The officer gave an evil smile. "We know what your family has done, and now you motherfuckers will have to pay for that shit," he said. The mother was distressed. "Anne, Isabella, get out of here," she said emotionlessly. They were questioning. "Children, goddammit, get out of here!" she yelled again. They both scattered and ran for the door. Annelies had Isabella's hand, but the officer tackled Isabella and held the pistol to her head. "Run, Anne!" Isabella yelled aloud. She twisted the doorknob and ran away from the home to the other side of the street. She was panting. And then, the noise came from the house. PKEWWFFFFF! Her eyes widened and she hid behind the tree in the neighbor's yard. She took the occasional peeks, but then she heard another gunshot. She lurked for the longest time until she saw the police cars leave. She sprinted back into the house.

She opened the door and right in front of her, she saw Isabella wounded to the leg. "Anne?" she urged faintly. Anne dropped everything and hugged her sister tightly. She then called the ambulance and they took Isabella away. However, the paramedics looked around the house for more people who were stuck. "Miss, you should probably come to look," a paramedic said. Annelies walked over and what she saw was worse than what she had seen before. Here was her mother on the floor with several bullet wounds to the head. She perished just after the first gunshot. Anne sank to her knees right then and there. She didn't want to do anything but hug her mom once again. The paramedics consulted her until they took Isabella to the hospital. When Anne went to hug her one last time, Isabella brought her closer to her and whispered one more thing to her.

"You need to find Akachi and get out of here."

A silhouette watched from the darkness of a Minsk alley as police cars showed up to a nearby house. The man who made it- his name didn't matter- had one goal some friends of his had asked him to fulfill: watch Oclusian government activity throughout the city. Other friends of his were doing the same, but that wasn't important right now. For all intents and purposes, his name was Yevgeny Matviyenko. He was a lower middle class fisherman from a town on the northern coasts who had come to the city to visit his grandmother and was walking around looking for a cheap hotel to stay at.

The police began to confront the family living there. If his sources were correct, this family was both Courantist and suspected of conspiracy against the regime, and one of its members was caught for attempted illegal emigration. Tough break to be sure; it would only be a matter of time before their doors got knocked on. That time seemed to be now, and Yevgeny Matviyenko continued to watch, making sure he was not seen, and writing down notes in code with his thumb.

By the end of it, gunshots rang and a young girl ran out into the street, hiding in some bushes near where he was. Later on, after the cars left, she returned, and soon after, paramedics came. It seemed rather odd to Yevgeny Matviyenko that the family would call the ambulance right after being brutally harassed by the government, but, so it seemed, in his foolishness, Yermolaevich had not touched the healthcare rights of Courantists when making his new laws. She'd be fine, for now at least.

And so, Yevgeny Matviyenko slipped off without a trace, ready to tail the cops and see where they went next; for that was Yevgeny Matviyenko's true goal. To watch. He was just that, a watcher, after all; and one of many.

---

OOC Note: Post pre-approved with Deerf.

"What the hell do you want with us!" a tourist shouted. Guards paced around the enlarged group of people surrounded by soldiers with guns. The commander smirked. "We don't know what we will do with you yet. We will await the order, so in the meantime, shut your traps!" he yelled aloud. Approximately twenty Midranean tourists were all huddled close to each other just waiting for their inevitable fate. The guards came down and they closed in. The lead guard came to the microphone. "ATTENTION!" he yelled. The Midraneans each turned around to face him. The place was quiet. You could hear pins drop to the ground. A faint sneer was seen on the commander's face. "I need anyone who is healthy on this side of me, and I need all the children, women, sick, and wounded on this side!" he yelled.

They all did as they were told. The men each got ready to start labor. The commander turned his head towards the sick. "Take them away..." he said in a slick tone. The next thing they know, the children, sick, and wounded were on their way to the border detention centers. The truck turned away and drove off. The commander made sure that the truck was out of sight before turning himself and his guards to the sick and wounded. "Hatovy!" he yelled first. The guards each started to pull up their weapons.
"Meta!"
"Ahoń!"
The sound sprung throughout the middle of the street that all the Midranean tourists stood on. Gunshots echoed through the air. The working people were cut down in numbers and soon, they all were on the ground motionlessly. There was blood in pools in the places where the people had been cut down. Guards stepped on the numerous people and threw them into a truck. That truck drove off and the commander went to Central Minsk to tell the president what happened. The sites around the city into the nightscape was untouched as if nothing was going on in Oclusia. The automobile that the commander was inside of got to the Presidential Home in very little time.

"Sir, we did the deal," he said. President Yermolayevich turned in his rolling chair. "Those Midraneans all had it coming, sir," he said. President Yermolayevich nodded. "How many did you murder?" he questioned emotionlessly. "Eight, sir," the commander said. President Yermolayevich looked a little uneasy. "What did you do it for?" he asked. The commander was taken back. He shook that thought off and looked back at the President. "A few of them were hiding Courantists inside of their rental homes and hotel rooms and they deliberately lied to us." The president nodded. "That will teach foreigners not to break our laws, but I can't help but feel that we made the wrong decision."

"UGH!" he yelled aloud. He burrowed his head on his desk. "More fucking sanctions! How much more shit can they give us!" President Yermolayevich punched the air before taking a drink from his beer bottle. "These motherfuckers do not know how to give a break!" he shouted again. He got back to his writing the responses to the sanctions through letter form. "Darling, shouldn't you get some shut-eye?" his wife asked. The President shook his head. "I need to get this done, honey..." he gritted through his teeth. "It will be there in the morning, you need rest," she said once again. Yermolayevich was growing more impatient. "No..." he said again in an annoyed tone as he finished his beer. "You need to rest or you won't be able to think comple-"

"Bitch, I said I don't need sleep!" he yelled as he punched the girl. She lie on the floor.

He got up out of his seat. "Bitch, when I say I don't need sleep, I mean I don't NEED sleep!" he shouted as he stomped on his wife. She got back up and he launched an uppercut at her. She fell back on her back. There were bruises all over her body. "I told you three times that I don't need that, but what did you do? You ignored my fucking wishes and you proceded to ask me!" he yelled. He slapped her across the face several more times before he took off his belt. He hit her with the belt and she ran across the office and hid in the corner.

She shivered. He towered over her. "Get up, you useless, good-for-nothing cow!" he yelled. She got back up and the President took his beer bottle that was empty and struck her with it. She was now bleeding. "I'm leaving, Lyovkin!" she yelled again. "Consider our marriage over!" she yelled. Lyovkin grabbed the beer bottle. "Was that more I heard?" he yelled. He grabbed the bottle and hit her over the head with it before it shattered all over her. "I have no problem with our stupidassed marriage being over! I got a hotter woman anyway!" he yelled as he stomped on her head knocking her unconscious. He then picked her up and threw her into the hallway for the guards to pick her up. He then finished his address to Midir regarding the killing of Midranean tourists.


(Addressed to Midir)


OOC - Strong Language and Domestic Violence

Travel Advisory:

Democratic Republic of Oclusia- Level 4: Do Not Travel

Do not travel to Oclusia due to ethnic discrimination, human rights violations, and civil unrest

Travel to all areas of Oclusia are unsafe as a result of a series of anti-Courantist laws enacted by the government. Individuals of the Courantist faith are subject to summary arrests, harassment by government authorities, and even execution. Family separation and detainment is ongoing. Additionally the government of Oclusia has begun to harass and detain foreign tourists regardless of faith. Oclusia is officially condemned and sanctioned by His Majesty's Prydanian Government.

The Prydanian Embassy's ability to provide routine and emergency services to Prydanian citizens in Oclusia is severely limited. Evacuation options from Oclusia are extremely limited due to the Oclusian government's willingness to use deadly force on any personnel attempting to leave its territory.

Family members cannot accompany employees of His Majesty's Prydanian Government who work in Oclusia. Unofficial travel to Oclusia by Prydanian government employees and their family members is restricted and requires prior approval from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Prydanian Embassy personnel are restricted from travelling to all locations in Minsk except the Prydanian Embassy building unless there is a compelling interest of His Majesty's Prydanian Government permitting such travel that outweighs the risk. Additional security measures are needed for any Prydanian government employee travel and movement through Oclusia.​

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L'Indépendant > Mercanti > Top Stories


by Marie-Catherine Landrin-Blanquart in Saintes, with reports from Jérôme Begouën in Douvres, Denis Péralte de Lemouse in Avéry, Anne-Marie-Louise Joule in Bompaire, and Alexandra Lacourbe-Tromelin in Meximieux
SAINTES – the full-blown refugee crisis in Oclusia has gotten deadly, as the first confirmed reports of refugee deaths surface.

Death by drowning
Yesterday morning, the inhabitants of the Domnonée village of Landréger-sur-Mer (Côtes-du-Nord) were shocked to find three bodies – one woman and two children – on their beach. “It was heartbreaking,” said Janine-Gaëlle Le Couteulx, mayor of Landréger-sur-Mer. Police from nearby Penthièvre and the Royal Santonian Navy are searching the beaches for any corpses that might be washed ashore. As of press time, two more bodies were recovered, one in Plougrescant and another one in Roscanvel-le-Cap, both in the intendance of Penthièvre.

Refugees from the rescued Oclusian boat Biaspieku identified the woman and the children as the occupants of the skiff Shanca, Biaspieku’s sister boat that fled Oclusia with them five days ago. The circumstances of Shanca’s sinking is still under investigation by the Côtes-du-Nord police and the Royal Santonian Navy. Meanwhile, Vice-Admiral Paul-Corentin Roüault, commander of the Third Fleet assigned to the coast of Domnonée and Béthagne, announced that they will be stepping up patrols within Santonian territorial waters to rescue refugees before the rickety refugee boats sink.

Injured refugees
Units of the 31^st Mountain Brigade, 3^rd Mountain Division of the Royal Santonian Army rescued a group of refugees near the village of Morlhon-le-Haut (Yerres). The group of seven refugees from two families used the Col de Cauchemar (“Nightmare Pass”) to enter Saintonge. The group was found by a detachment of the brigade assigned to guard the mountain pass and the border posts. Three of the refugees, including a 13-year-old boy, had gunshot wounds. “They shot at us,” said Artyom (not his real name), “the Oclusian border guards shot at us. We left two of our companions behind – one of them was shot in the head.”

Despite the Col de Cauchemar being the lowest of the mountain passes in the high central Andes, Colonel Joseph-Arthur Dechézeaux of the 31^st Mountain Brigade warned that the mountain pass was tricky to navigate. “It’s possible that there are other groups wandering around the cold mountain and forests near this mountain pass,” said Col. Dechézeaux.

Death by cold
The high and inhospitable Andes mountains separating Oclusia and Saintonge is a formidable barrier for refugees to cross. Also yesterday, police were called to the mountains overlooking the village of L’Hospitalet-de-Montcorbeau (Huisne) after a shepherd found three frozen corpses up in the Mont du Diable (“Devil’s Mountain”). Based on the identification found from the victims, all three were Oclusians.

“They likely used the treacherous Col du Diable,” said Marie-Espérance Milhaud-Eschasseriaux, mayor of L’Hospitalet-de-Montcorbeau. “There’s a reason Col du Diable and Mont du Diable are named like that; even we locals don’t go up there when the weather is not good.” The mountains adjacent to Mont du Diable also bear ominous names: Mont des Morts (“Mountain of the Dead”) and Montmauvais (“Wicked Mountain”) - a testament to the harshness of the environment in the central Andes.

Saintonge steps up
Defence Minister Marc-Maëlmon de Liescoët ordered the Royal Santonian Navy to increase its patrols in Santonian territorial waters and in Lac Amer to the south in order to rescue refugees fleeing by boat. Additional units of the Royal Santonian Army, also responsible for Santonian border control, will be deployed to potential migrant routes in the mountains in order to locate and rescue refugees who had managed to cross into Santonian territory.

Interior Minister Charles-Archambault Bathenay put on high alert the units of the Santonian Civil Defence Service (Service saintongeaise de la défense civile, SSDC) in the eleven departments bordering Oclusia, plus the departments of Authie, Rance, and Tage. SSDC is the country’s integrated fire, ambulance, and rescue services. “This way SSDC will be able to quickly render assistance to any rescued refugees trapped in the mountains or lost at sea.”

Saintonge Télécom and the country’s three other private mobile networks yesterday mutually agreed to send an automated welcome message to Oclusian mobile phones as they entered the country and connected to the roaming network. The updated welcome message to Saintonge also lists the hotline of the SSDC, which the mobile phone can call free of charge. For Oclusian mobile phones, the telecom companies had voluntarily waived the roaming fees for the first day in Saintonge. This is valid provided their Oclusian network provider has a partner in Saintonge for roaming.

Communities along the border, with the assistance of the military units stationed nearby and the SSDC, started putting up guide signs in the mountains and trails. The village of Cantagnède (Sebre) installed “Bienvenue au Saintonge” signs all over the border and directional signposts leading to the town. The councils of the border departments of the Basses-Andes, the Hautes-Andes, and the Taur all made emergency appropriations for the installation of signposts in the mountains, in the areas where refugees might go to.

translation by Kyle MacTaggart-de Flesselles

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OOC: Post pre-approved with Oclusia.

Empress Alycia stood at the podium in full regalia as she went through her notes and straightened her jacket and she opted to not wear the crown for once. Alexandre propped an arm on the side of the podium as he looked into her busy eyes.
"Your Highness, are you sure you want to say these things, not only to the Oclusians but to the Gotmarkers as well? You have a country to bring to greatness you don't need to concern yourself with these matters, let Gavrill deal with this."

She looked up and into his eyes, her eyes a mix of fury and sorrow. "I trust Gavrill to do his job better than anyone, but I feel like this needs my touch, no it does need my touch. I feel like if I speak we will get the results we need, if I don't our friends and allies will simply just ignore it..." Alexandre let out a sigh as he returned to his spot, the camera roll countdown starting. "Don't worry Alex."

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"People of the world, it saddens me greatly to hear and bear witness to the events of the Oclusian humanitarian crisis. I am shocked and appalled by the actions of what I can only now consider to be a fascist dictatorship. Norsia knows the wounds of fascism all too well and the wounds are still fresh body and mind. The actions of the Oclusian government cannot be ignored, detention centers, arresting children as enemies of the state, restricting the rights of Man and state-sponsored terrorism? Killing people just based upon their faith, what is this the thirteen hundreds??

I hereby condemn the actions of the Oclusian government and no longer recognize it as a legitimate state, for it has joined the Axis of Evil. I hereby declare that sanctions will be implemented, the Oclusian government has twenty-four hours to withdraw all of its diplomatic staff from Norsland with the exemption of its Courantist personnel. We offer asylum to any Courantists who make it to the premises of our embassy, and we will not give way to any attempts to 'arrest' those in asylum. Any attempts to force the perimeter of our Embassy will be seen as an Act of War.

As I speak now, there are countless Men Women and Children trying to flee the terror in Oclusia by any means they can. They are dying at the hands of police and soldiers and they are dying to the elements.. I cannot sit idly by and just let this happen. that is why I am also announcing the deployment of a Naval Taskforce into international waters near Oclusia, it is my hope that neighboring nations will assist this taskforce. Its purpose is not War, but Search and Rescue of refugees before the cruel and merciless tides take them.

It pains me that there is so much darkness in the world, it is the base and corrupt and the downright evil like President Lyovkin that keeps it in that darkness. It is my hope that others follow in Norsias suit and joins with us and the others in combatting this terror and darkness, one torch will do little but keep the darkness at bay; many will banish it.

May the Gods bless and guide you all."

Alycia bowed respectfully before the cameras clicked off.

'Ambassador Kazhar

The situation in Oclusia is growing more troubled with each new day, the imperial council is currently debating an evacuation of the embassy in Minsk prior to the declaration of sanctions, the situations as I am sure you are aware is volatile and changing rapidly. You have two objectives as outlined by the council via our emergency plan

1. Ensure the safety of the embassy and its staff until such time as a general evacuation can be initiated.

2. As long as your actions do not contradict the aims of the first objective you have executive authority to carry out actions consistent with foreign policy.

May the Divine protect you

Minister Rhaishah'

Fayyad Kazhar leant back in his chair and rubbed his face, he was exhausted and the sickly white glow from his computer stung his sleep-deprived eyes, no one in the embassy was sleeping much, the events outside made sure of that. A few months ago the greatest problem Kazhar had faced was getting decent tickets to the baseball games, now he was dealing with an international crisis.

Astragon did not have a large presence in Oclusia, a small expat community and smaller business ties were the sole interactions between the two states, Kazhar had taken the post primarily as a form of comfortable retirement

'So much for that grand plan' he thought with a mirthless chuckle

At 65 Fayyad was something of a dinosaur by the standards of the diplomatic service, a veteran of the Skanda-Iraelian war he had spent most of the last three decades working on the continent, postings as far afield as Alnaria and Takashima had been exciting but in his dotage Oclusia had seemed a good choice to finish up a long and well-regarded career, that is before Yermolayevich had gone insane and decided to emulate the worst fascist dictators of the last century.

Outside the embassy, Minsk was a city on the brink, police vehicles and security services seemed to prowl every road and the local populace was tense. The recent news of arrests, police killings and detention camps were like something out of a history textbook, but they were happening in 2019 all the same. Fayyad knew the illusion of safety the embassies provided was going to fade all too soon, Yermolayevich was getting more desperate with each new sanction, wouldn't be long before he started acting out.

Fayyad had met the President of Oclusia once in his entire five-year tenure in Minsk, he struck the ambassador as a terribly unsuitable man to be holding political office, to Fayyad Yermolayevich had looked like a gorilla in a suit, a man who fed off populism and would do anything to hold onto power. At the time those had been personal thoughts, now they seemed accurate political assessments.

Fayyad lit a cigarette and pressed the intercom gently 'Nahrain, please send for Captain Lashad' he said gently

Moments later the captain entered the room, he was the very image of a Kaiderin, tall clean-shaven and with an expression of absolute discipline 'Ambassador!' he said saluting with a fist pressed to his chest

'Captain I have just received word from the foreign minister that a pull out is imminent' He said between cigarette puffs

'Do you want me to order the destruction of sensitive information?' the captain asked matter-factly if Lashad was fazed by events in Oclusia it did not show

"In due time captain, for now, I want you to place the detachment on high alert and double our security at the main entrance, I don't expect much interference from the Oclusians, they have bigger problems than us, but we need to be ready if they do come to our door' Fayyad said tiredly

Lashad saluted 'It will be done, ambassador! if there is nothing further I will begin instituting the new security protocols' he said in a voice that seemed far too energetic for this time of night, Kaiderin were like that, fanatically enthusiastic

'Very good captain, that will be all' he said with a slight smile

Lashad saluted again for good measure and left to make the arrangements, in the darkness of his office Fayyad reached for something that had been resting on his desk, a black and red Astragonese passport, he stared at the peacock emblazoned in crimson on the front.

'This little booklet could mean the difference between life and death' he said with a sigh

'I suspect im going to have to sign a great deal more and even then it still won't be enough' he thought grimly

Earlier this morning a report came across my desk that twenty Mondic citizens in the nation of Oclusia were kidnapped and eight of them were brutally gunned down by Oclusian soldiers; their names will not be released as to keep the privacy of their families in mind, however we deeply apologize to the families as this is viewed as a mistake on the government’s part for not being able to protect them. We are issuing reparations to the families impacted by this event. This is news is also a cause for alarm to other governments across Eras. Due to these reports, the Mondic Travel and Tourism advisory board has placed Oclusia on a “Do not Travel” notice. Along with this, Congress has authorized complete sanctions on Oclusia, all Midranean businesses doing work in Oclusia are ordered to evacuate the nation or face sanctions themselves. The Mondic Department of Defense has placed the military on high alert in readiness condition level 4 with the military being able to deploy in a matter of hours. We will do everything we can to get the survivors out of the rouge state. On top of this, we are issuing the government of Oclusia a warning that if the rest of the Midraneans are not released, there will be stronger actions to come.