History of the World 4.0 - The Saga Continues

[Rasputin]

fireworks erupted over all egyptian citys... freedom had come, they had received justice at last...

now to begin the resconstruction of all the damged infrastructure

[Rasputin]

Emporer Muhummed Ali andhis darlign wife Helen were transported to their personal yacht and hence escorted by the Egyptian navy to their holiday home in the pacific. Once there they set about rejuvinating their minds and their bodies. It was idyliic in the sunshine and as it was in the grounds of their private resort, clothes were an optional extra they didnt bother with.

Back in Egypt, Chieff of the Armed forces Marshall Dylan was appointed as Supremo in Charge and all day t oday runnnigs of the nation were undertaken with all hias due dilagance.

[Rasputin]

Secret meeting

Emporer Ali : So we still have no word from our "allies"

Helen : No they seem to have forsaken us

EA : Yes lucky the Azande applyed pressure on their allies to stop the war.

H: I still find it amazing how The Great Raz works through these foriengers to get the best for his people.

EA: Yes my faith may be down but he has turned me round yet again.

H: Yes, but still until we see those Indians withdrawing from all our cities we cant fully beleive that this is happening.

EA: oh my love it will happen as it was decreed.

H: Yes and no thanks to our supposed allies to the north.

EA: Maybe the great prophet was right in saying that ".. in the ned days the north shall use trickery and deciet to capture many Razlamics..."

H: yes we must beware, we always thought that meant the Tartars, but maybe it means the serbs used us to attack the Indians with promises of joint action , but still they did nothing, hoping we would be weakened.

EA: Well we will see, our Ambassader is meeting with new President of USb today, we will see what thewy offer to protect us.

H: Yes and stil lno word from the Serbs....

EA: Yes well i will await their offers , if we get no offer we may need to evaluate our allainces....

[Rasputin]

Communications

DOCUMENT CLASS : TOP SECRET

EYES ONLY

TO : The Serbian Leader

FROM: Emporer Muhummed Ali

SEALED UNDER THE COMMON SEAL OF EGYPT

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

My dear friend,

I hear much confusion has been happening in greater Serbia as the Government and the Nationalists compete for power. We hope that thias struggle is soon finsihed as your ally to the south is in dire need of help. Your grea tmilitary victory over the Tartars in the Terrorist Wars had surely hardened your troops for the fight to come. As you are aware , under agreement with both your self and the USB we sent our military inspectors into India to search for the terrible weopons of mass destruction. Having found them, they then turned them upon us and took nearly all our Razlmaic Territory in Asia and most of the holy lands. They have threatened to follow through with further action into African Egypt. The inspections were done under hte banner of the northern allaince, and yet we have seen no condemantion of the Indian attacls upon ourselves nor any offers of aid.

The current situation concerns us greatly as the only nation to apply political pressure on the Indians has been the Azande, who we are also at war with but over other issues.

If support from our northern neighbours is not forthcoming we will be forced to sign peace with the Indians and will be unable to help you in any defence of yourselves if the Indians should choose to continue northwards.

OTher concerns for us are the Chinese who also are militarily capapble of taking on much of the wolrd. We beleive it was in error that we allwoed the Chinese to take the Eastern half of old Tartardom and would have prefered for the Serbs our friend sto have taken this land.

My whole control of the Razlamic faith has been based on maintaining adequate growth for our people, this has now been removed from me by this latest war. If I cant show tha tI have repsect in the world especially from my northern allies, I do not know if I can keep the old fundamentalists under control.

At present I am out of the country on vacation in the pacific, in my abscence , Marshall Dylon has control, I do not wish him to maintain control , because his history shows he is a warmonger and will stir up the razlamics once again. Especially all the ones displaced in the latest war.

Please indicate immediatly your stance on the current situation and choose your side carefully. It may mean I may never gt back to Egypt.

I also ask you pressure the USB to send finacial aid to us pronto, whilst we understand their need to spend money on their own defnece, they must understand that if Egypt falls then Serbia and all of Europe are open to be next.

Given enough support of finances and military units of offensive nature, we beleive that the northern allaince can push back the tide of the Heathen to our east and south.

However without this we may need to re-think our status and consider whatever offers of help we get. The Azande are concerned with the Insdian expansion as much as we, and are applying vast pressure to get ALL our territory back. If the peace with India does not hold due to theri strong demands for some DMZ covering our citys in ASia then we would be forced to sign peace with the Azande and get their help in preventing a complete route.

The Azande are being threatened by the Chinese to the East and so are very approachable to us signing peace with them to prevent a two front war.

Please destroy this document as soon as you are finsihed reading it, this is HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL.

WE await your reply ASAP , the deadline will be soon, we need to hear from you.


Muhumed Ali
Emporer of Greater Egypt

[Rasputin]

The Battle Field -- In memory of Douglas Adams

The last of the tankmen disappeared into the smoke and the rumbling of their diesel engines receded into the grey distance.

The smoke hung on the land. It drifted across the setting sun, which lay like an open wound across the western sky.

In the ringing silence that followed the battle, very, very few, pitifully few cries could be heard from the bloody, mangled wreckage on the fields.

Ghostlike figures, stunned with horror, emerged from the woods, stumbled and then ran forward crying - women, searching for their husbands, brothers, fathers, lovers first amongst the dying and then amongst the dead. The flickering light by which they searched was that of their burning village, which had that afternoon officially become part of the Egyptian Empire.

The Egyptians.

From out of the wastes of Northern Africa they had swept, a savage force for which the world was utterly unprepared. They swept like a wildly wielded scythe, hacking, slashing, obliterating all that lay in their path, and calling it conquest.

And throughout the lands that feared them now or would come to fear them, no name inspired more terror than that of their leader, Marshall Dylan. The greatest of the Egyptian warlords, he stood alone, revered as a God among warriors, marked out by the cold light of his grey green eyes, the savage furrow of his brow, and the fact that he could beat the **** out of any of them.

Later that night the moon rose, and by its light a small party of Tank Commanders drive quietly out from the Egyptian encampment that sprawled over the nearby hill. A casual observer would not have noticed anything remarkable about the man who rode as a passenger upon one tank, muffled in a heavy cloak, tense, hunched forward on the tank as if weighed down by a heavy burden, because a casual observer would have been dead.

The band rode a few miles through the moonlit woods, picking their way along the paths until they came at last to a small clearing, and here they parked their tanks and waited on their leader.

He surveyed the small group of peasant huts that stood huddled together in the centre of the clearing trying very hard at short notice to look deserted.

Hardly any smoke at all was rising from the primitive chimney stacks. Virtually no light appeared at the windows, and not a sound could be heard from any of them save that of a small child saying "Shhhhh....."

For a moment a strange green fire seemed to flash from the eyes of the Egyptian leader. A heavy deadly kind of a thing that you could hardly call a smile drew itself through his fine wispy beard. The strange kind of smiley thing would signify (briefly) to anyone who was stupid enough to look that there was nothing an Egyptian warlord liked better after a day hacking people to bits than a big night out.

The door flew open. An Egyptian warrior surged into the hut like a savage wind. Two children ran screaming to their mother who was cowering wide eyed in the corner of the tiny room. A dog yelped.

The warrior kicked logs on to the still glowing fire, and then threw the dog on to it. That would teach it to be a dog. The last surviving man of the family, a grey and aged grandfather stepped bravely forward, eyes flashing. With a flash of his sword the Egyptian whipped off the old man's head which trundled across the floor and fetched up leaning rakishly against a table leg. The old man's body stood tensely for a moment, not knowing what to think. As it began slowly, majestically to topple forward, Dylan strode in and pushed it brusquely aside. He surveyed the happy domestic scene and bestowed a grim kind of smile on it. Then he walked over to a large chair and sat in it, testing it first for comfort. When he was satisfied with it he heaved heavy sigh and sat back in front of the fire on which the dog was now blazing merrily.

The warrior grabbed at the terrified woman, pushed her children roughly aside and brought her, trembling in front of the mighty Dylan.

She was young and pretty, with long bedraggled black hair. Her bosom heaved and her face was stark with fright.

Dylan regarded her with a slow contemptuous look.

"Does she know," he said at length in a low, dead voice, "who I am?"

"You... you are the mighty Dylan!" cried the woman.

Dylan's eyes fixed themselves on hers.

"Does she know," he hissed, "what I want of her?"

"I... I'll do anything for you, O Dylan," stammered the woman, "but spare my children!"

Dylan said quietly, "Then begin." His eyes dropped and he gazed distantly into the fire.

Nervously, shaking with fear the woman stepped forward and laid a tentative pale hand on Dylan's arm.

The soldier smacked her hand away.

"Not that!" he barked.

The woman started back, aflutter. She realised she would have to do better. Still shaking, she knelt down on the floor and started gently to push apart Dylan's knees.

"Stop that!" roared the soldier and shoved her violently backwards. Bewilderment began to mix with the terror in her eyes as she cowered on the floor.

"Come on " snapped the soldier, "ask him what kind of day he's had."

"What...?" she wailed, "I don't... I don't understand what..."

The soldier seized her, span her into a half nelson, and jabbed the point of his sword against her throat.

"I said ask him," he hissed, "what kind of day he's had!"

The woman gasped with pain and incomprehension. The sword jabbed again. "Say it!"

"Er, what sort ...of... er, day..." she said in a hestitant, strangled squeak, "have you...had?"

"Dear!" hissed the soldier, "say dear!"

Her eyes bulged in horror at the sword.

"What sort of day ,have you had..., dear?" she asked querulously.

Dylan looked up briefly, wearily.

"Oh, same as usual," he said, "violent."

He gazed back at the fire again.

"Right," said the soldier to the woman, "go on."

She relaxed very slightly. She seemed to have passed some kind of test. Perhaps it would be straightforward from now on and she could at least get it over with. She moved nervously forward and started to caress Dylan again.

The soldier hurled her savagely across the room, kicked her and yanked her screaming to her feet again.

"I said stop that!," he bellowed. He pulled her face close to his and breathed a lungful of cheap wine and week old rancid goat fat fumes at her, which failed to cheer her up because it reminded her sharply of her late lamented husband who used to do the same thing to her every night. She sobbed.

"Be nice to him!" the Egyptian snarled and spat one of his unwanted teeth at her, "ask him how his work's going!"

She gawped at him. The nightmare was continuing. A stinging blow landed on her cheek.

"Just say to him," the soldier snarled again, "'How's the work going, dear?" He shoved her forward.

"How...how's the work going... dear?" she yelped miserably.

The soldier shook her. "Put some affection into it!" he roared.

She sobbed again. "How...how's the work going... dear?" she yelped miserably again, but this time with a kind of pathetic pout at the end.

The mighty Dylan sighed.

"Oh, not too bad I suppose," he said in a world weary tone. "We swept through Tartardom a bit and spilt quite a lot of blood there. That was in the morning, then this afternoon was mainly pillaging, though there was a bit of bloodshed around half four. What sort of day have you had?"

So saying, he pulled a couple of scroll maps from out of his furs and started to study them abstractedly by the light of the smouldering dog.

The Egyptian warrior pulled a glowing poker out of the fire and advanced menacingly on the woman.

"Tell him!" Go on! "

She leapt back with a shriek.

"Tell him!"

"Er, my husband and father were killed!" she said.

"Oh yes, dear?" said Dylan absently, not looking up from his maps.

"Dog was burnt!"

"Oh, er, really?"

"Well, er, that's about it, really... er.."

The soldier advanced on her with the poker again.

"Oh, and I was tortured a bit!" shrieked the woman.

Dylan looked up at her. "What?" he said, vaguely, "sorry dear, I was just reading this..."

"Right," said the soldier, "nag him!"

"What?"

"Just say, 'Look Marshall Dylan, put that thing away while I'm talking to you. Here I am, spend all day slaving over a hot...'"

"He'll kill me!"

"Bleeding kill you if you don't."

"I can't stand it!" cried the woman and collapsed on the floor. She flung herself on the great Khan's feet. "Don't torment me," she wailed, "if you mean to rape me, then rape me, but don't..."

The great Dylan surged to his feet and glowered down at her. "No," he muttered savagely, "you'd only laugh - you're just like all the others."

He stormed out of the hut and rode off into the night in such a rage that almost forgot to burn down the village before he left.

[Rasputin]

The Story Continues ... Again thanks to Douglas adams

After another particularly vicious day the last of the Tank commanders disappeared into the smoke and the rumbling of their diesel motors receded into the grey distance.

The smoke hung on the land. It drifted across the setting sun, which lay like an open wound across the western sky.

In the ringing silence that followed the battle, very, very few, pitifully few cries could be heard from the bloody, mangled wreckage on the fields.

Ghostlike figures, stunned with horror, emerged from the woods, stumbled and then ran crying forward crying - women, searching for their husbands, brothers, fathers, lovers, first amongst the dying and then amongst the dead.

Far away behind the screen of smoke thousands of tank men arrived at their sprawling camp, and with a huge amount of clatter, shouting and comparing of backhand slashes they climbed out of their tanks and instantly started in on the cheap wine and rancid goat fat.

In front of his splendidly bedraped Imperial tent a bloodstained and battle weary Marshall Dylon left his tank.

"Which battle was that?" he asked his son, General Howdy, who had ridden with him. Howdy was a young and ambitious general, keenly interested in viciousness of all kinds. He was hoping to improve on his own Known World record for the highest number of peasants impaled on a single sword thrust and would be getting in some practice that night.

He strode up to his father.

"It was the Battle of Tartardom, oh Dylan!" he proclaimed, and rattled his sword in a tremendously impressive way.


Dylan folded his arms and leant on his tank, looking over it across the dreadful mess they'd made of the valley beneath them.

"Oh, I can't tell the difference anymore," he said with a sigh, "did we win?"

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" exclaimed Howdy with fierce pride, "it was a mighty victory indeed!

"Indeed it was!" he added and waggled his sword again. He drew it excitedly and made a few practice thrusts. Yes, he thought to himself, tonight he was going to go for the six.

Dylan screwed his face up at the gathering dusk.

"Oh dear," he said, "after twenty years of these two hour battles I get the feeling that there must be more to life, you know." He turned, lifted up the front of his torn and bloodied gold embroidered tunic and stared down at his own hairy tummy. "Here, feel this," he said, "do you think I'm putting it on a bit?"

Howdy gazed at the great Dylan's tummy with a mixture of awe and impatience.

"Er no," he said "No, not at all." With a flick of his fingers Howdy summoned a servant to bring the maps to him, ran him through, and as he fell caught from his nerveless but not entirely surprised fingers the plans of the grand campaign.

"Now, O Dylan," he said, spreading the map over the back of another servant who stood specially hunched over for the purpose, "we must push forward to India, and then we shall be poised to take over the whole world!"



"No look, feel that," said Dylan, pinching a fold of skin between his fingers, "do you think..."

"Dylan!" interrupted Howdy urgently, "we are on the point of conquering the world!" He stabbed at the map with a knife, catching the servant beneath a nasty nick on his left lung.

"When?" said Dylan with a frown.

Howdy threw up his arms in exasperation. "Tomorrow!" he said, "we start tomorrow!"

"Ah, well, tomorrow's a bit difficult, you see," said Dylan. He puffed out his cheeks and thought for a moment. "The thing is that next week I've got this lecture on carnage techniques in Tutankhamen, and I thought I'd use tomorrow to prepare it."

Howdy stared at him in astonishment as the map-bearing servant slowly collapsed on his foot.

"Well, can't you put that off?" he exclaimed.

"Well you see, they've paid me quite a lot of money for it already, so I'm a bit committed."

"Well, Wednesday?"

Dylan pulled a scroll from out of his tunic and looked through it, shaking his head slowly. "Not sure about Wednesday..."

"Thursday?"

"No, Thursday I am certain about. We've got Howdy and his wife coming round to dinner, and I'd kind of promised..."

"But I am Howdy!"

"Well, there you are then. You wouldn't be able to make it either."

Howdy's silence was only disturbed by the sound of thousands of hairy Egyptians shouting and fighting and getting pissed.

"Look," he said quietly, "will you be ready to conquer the world... on Friday?"

Dylan sighed. "Well the secretary comes in on Friday mornings."

"Does she."

"All those letters to answer. You'ld be astonished at the demands people try to make on my time you know." He slouched moodily against his tank. "Would I sign this, would I appear there. Would I please do a sponsored massacre for charity. So that usually takes till at least three, then I had hoped to get away early for a long weekend. Now Monday, Monday..."

He consulted his scroll again.

"Monday's out, I'm afraid. Rest and recuperation, that's one thing I do insist upon. Now how about Tuesday?"

The strange keening noise that could be heard in the distance at this moment sounded like the normal everyday wailing of women and children over their slaughtered menfolk and Dylan paid it no mind. A light bobbed on the horizon.

"Tuesday - look, I'm free in the morning - no, hold on a moment, I'd sort of made a date for meeting this awfully interesting chap who knows absolutely everything about understanding things, which is something I'm awfully bad at. Now that's a pity because that was my only free day next week. Now, next Tuesday we could usefully think about - or is that the day I..."

The keening sound continued, in fact it grew, but it was so lightly borne upon the evening breeze that it still did not intrude itself on Dylan's senses. The approaching light was so pale as to be indistinguishable from that of the moon which was bright that night.

"- so that's more or less the whole of March out," said Dylan, "I'm afraid."

"April?" asked Howdy, wearily. He idly whipped out a passing peasant's liver, but the joy had gone out of it. He flipped the thing listlessly off into the dark. A dog which had grown very fat over the years by the simple expedient of staying close to Howdy at all times leapt on it. These were not pleasant times.

"Well no, April's out," said Dylan - I'm going to America in April, that's one thing I had promised myself.

The light approaching them through the night sky had now at last attracted the attention of one or two other leading Egyptians in the vicinity, who, wonderingly, stopped hitting each other and stabbing things and drew near.

"Look," said Howdy, himself still unaware of what things were coming to pass, "can we please agree that we will conquer the world in May then?"

The mighty Dylan sucked doubtfully on his teeth. "Well, I don't like to commit myself that far in advance. One feels so tied down if one's life is completely mapped out beforehand. I should be doing more reading, for heaven's sake, when am I going to find the time for that? Anyway -" he sighed and scratched at his scroll, "'May - possible conquest of the world ' . Now I've only pencilled that in, so don't regard it as absolutely definite - but keep on at me about it and we'll see how it goes. Hello, what's that?"

Slowly, with the grace of a beautiful woman stepping into a bath, a long slim silver craft lowered itself gently to the ground. Soft light streamed from it. From its opening doorway stepped a tall elegant creature with a curiously fine grey green complexion. It walked slowly towards them.

In its path lay the dark figure of a peasant who had been crying quietly to himself since he had watched his liver being eaten by Howdy's dog and had known that no way was he going to get it back, and wondered how on Earth his poor wife was going to cope now. He chose this moment finally to pass on to better things.

The tall alien stepped over him with distaste and, though you would have had to read his face very closely to realise this, a little envy. He nodded briefly to each of the gathered Egyptian leaders in turn, and pulled a small clipboard out from under his heavy metallic robe.

"Good evening," it said in a small weaselly voice, "my name is Wowbagger, also called the Infinitely Prolonged, I shall not trouble you with the reasons why. Greetings."

He turned and addressed the completely pop-eyed mighty Dylan.

"You are Marshall Dylan? Marshall Dylan Baker , son of Ma Baker?"

The diary scrolls slipped from Dylan's hands to the ground. The pale luminesence from Wowbagger's ship suffused his wondering ravaged, careworn yellow features. As in a dream the mighty Warrior stepped forward in acknowledgment.

"Can I just check the spelling?" said the alien, showing him the clipboard, "I would hate to get it wrong at this stage and then have to start all over again, I really would."

Dylan nodded faintly.

"Right number of Ells, then?" said the alien.

Again, the transfigured Warrior slightly inclined his face, while his eyes still boggled.

"Good," said Wowbagger, and made a little tick on his clipboard. He looked up. "Marshall Dylan," he said, "you are a ****er; you are a tosspot; you are a very tiny piece of turd. Thank you." With that he retreated into his ship and flew off.

The was a nasty kind of silence.

Later that year Marshall Dylan stormed into Europe in such a rage that he almost forgot to burn down Asia before he left.

[Rasputin]

Emporer Ali, strode up and down in his Resort hideaway in the PAcific. He was on edge. Still no word from the Serbs. And notihng from the USB either.

He knew he had to put something into action soon, the Fundamental Razlamics had been voicing disdain in the Forum for the last few weeks and todays call for a No-Confidence vote was only jsut beaten down.

He had less and less support in the military who were burned after their Indian experineces. Never before had the Egyptian military turned coward and run. Now under his supposed leadership they had been forced to lose many provinces and a fifth of the army was dead.

He looked outside and saw many people moving around, who could he trust he thought, no one was the obvious answer.

[deity]

Originally posted by OzzyKP
Cautiously, Kaylee looked over the rise. The coast looked clear, but with the danger she was in, no precaution was too much. She tightly clutched the briefcase that was the reason behind her danger, as if the documents would flee her grasp of their own power. Checking behind her, Kaylee stood up and continued her journey. Her trip from London to Drakeland was not without incident. In recent years travel restrictions had grown more severe. Despite having eradicated the Tartar terrorist threat, the government has not relaxed its antiterrorist laws. The Patriot Act was now in its 6th incarnation and shows no signs of being repealed.

Always living an honest life, and forever being a dutiful worker for President Bush, Kaylee has lived the last few days as a criminal. A forged ID card, a forged passport, traveling under the name Jaime. She has posed as a French tourist en route for a relaxing vacation in the tropical USB port of Drakeland. Suspicions are high as these are dangerous times. It seemed to all be over during the stop in Halifax, but she completed the ocean voyage without detection.

Knowing little about Drakeland, her first few days were rough. Not as cultured or nice a place as Europe, or even America. This was a crummy backwater on the edge of the empire. Drakeland is far more militarized than she expected, she spent a few days going to the beach and doing touristy things to keep up appearances. A watchful eye lurks around every cabana and surf shop. Her heart has raced so much these last few days, the feeling has lost significance. Until now.

As Kaylee walked through the central American jungle, just a few miles away from freedom, her mind jumped at every monkey call or bird chirp. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she dodgedly checked around every tree, beyond every creek, and over every rise. Thankfully the jungle gave her much needed cover, but it was slow going. She had been traveling on foot now for 3 days. Kaylee knew she was getting close to the border. Tla was just a few miles away. One of the few democracies left she felt she could trust with the precious information she possessed. Hopefully they will know what to do, hopefully they will make this information public, expose the criminals implicated within her briefcase.

With every step closer to the border new images of freedom leapt into her mind, with every step closer new images of getting caught and tortured replaced more optimistic thoughts. Unable to stay focused, her fear and excitement tangled in her near feverish mind. Just a few more miles. Just a few more miles. The truth will be known. Just a few more miles. The truth about President Bush's death must be made public. It must. Just a few more miles. Walk. Step. Jump. Move. Just a few more miles. Border, border... what about the border? Past the border, freedom. Truth must be heard. How to get past the border. Just a few more miles. They'll know. They'll see. They'll stop me. The border will be locked down. Just a few more miles. The truth will be heard. Just a few more miles.

It was dark now. Being so close, Kaylee refused to stop or rest. She was almost there, just a few more miles. She pressed on in the dark. Continued forward to Azande land, and freedom. The jungle was dark, her eyes strained to make out a clear path to walk. Her other senses became more acute. She heard tree frogs, and monkeys, and macaws, and the hoot of owls. The sound of an unknown insect overpowered her hearing. The sound was oppressive in the dark cavern of the jungle. She carried a rifle in case a panther or other predator attacked, but she knew it would do little good against her main predator. USB police. Smells of all manner of trees and flowers mingled before her nostrils. She smelled her own sweat, and decaying leaves, and the gathering mist, and bird dung, and trees, and gasoline, and...wait, gasoline?

Suddenly the forest was flooded with light. Kaylee couldn't see anything beyond a huge spotlight. She put up her arms but it did little good. Large men rushed toward her and knocked her to the ground. Were they USB or Azande? She couldn't tell. The light was so bright. They ripped the briefcase and weapon away from her. She was panicked. What was going on? No one spoke. She couldn't tell where they were from. English or Azande? English or Azande? Oh my God, who are they. She lay in the mud, dazed and panicked. Finally a man returned. He stood over Kaylee and said, "You've had quite a journey, lass, but we couldn't have you delivering this information to the Azande. I'm sure you understand." He raised his rifle and pulled the trigger.

Lizard was putting the pieces together but not in the way her war-mongering husband had. She could more clearly see the truth now. Nations with mighty armies were not necesarily the real danger... her diplomatic efforts in de-fusing the Egyptian/Indian war was much smarter than LizardTongues brilliantly planned invasion of India.

She walked to the house arrest cell and peered at him through one way glass. Yes, I know how this has all come about and it is the same truth that I'm sure lay in the hands of that poor Kaylee... India's existence hung by a thread... the maverick Egyptians must accept the peace deal. She needed friends and she needed her son Lidless to understand her thinking.

[Frank Johnson]

General Mao and Admiral Yamamoto sat in the presence of Lord Dangime, supreme ruler of the Nationalist Chinese Government. A hearing had been called to determine the nature of the Egypt/India Conflict, and possible threats it may pose to Chinese security.

Lord Dangime: An unlikely war has broken out in Asia on the eve of possible conflict with the Azande. I must know if this poses any threat to our opperations.

General Mao: Our records indicate that the Egyptians were the initiators of the conflict. That set aside, their ability given that they had the element of surprise seems to be lacking. The Egyptians managed to caputure only a single Indian city, and then held it for only a short time.

Lord Dangime: Egypt had finally leapt onto the world stage with their conquests in Tartardom. I even considered extending an alliance to the brave and aggressive Egyptians to support us in our quest to secure our homeland against the Azande, what could possibly incite them to lead such a poorly coordinated attack?

Admiral Yamamoto: Our spies believe that someone else, probably Europeans promised the Egyptians military support in battle without specifying when or where that support would come from. That's the only reasonable explaination for their half-hearted assault.

Mao: Yes, our current theory is that the European Puppeteer believed they could manipulate the Chinese into an assault on the Indian heartland.

Lord Dangime: Ah, it makes sense now. It is true, we are the allies of both European powers currently, but no request for military support against India was made. There seems to be some dislike for the Indians in Europe. They are perceived as tratiors to our efforts to limit the Azande threat. We responded by strengthing ourselves, and it appears they responded by stirring up hatred of them amongst others.

Yamamoto: We were also fairly secretive about our fleet and planned action against the Azande in the event of a break down in talks. When our allies learned of the plan, it appears there was no time to halt the Egyptian attack. Someone was betting on Chinese intervention without directly asking for it.

Lord Dangime: Do either of you believe this action poses a threat to us if war begins with the Azande?

General Mao: No sir. Our land forces are more than enough to deter land based assaults across our boarder. If negoiations with us were open and honest, our forces might have easily poured across into the whole of India. However, we were presented with no reason to betray our anicent ally. The only threat to the mainland exists in the form of the Azande military bases in the pacific.

Admiral Yamamoto: Our naval forces are the strongest on the planet, sir. If the Azande refuse to trade for the island colonies, we will take them by force. Then we can push our confrontation to the sea, sparing our homeland from the darkhearts.

Lord Dangime: Very well, I will make one final effort to bring the Azande to the bargaining table. I will meet with their representative personally. If I do not return sucessfully, request that the ministers of all our allies to gather immediately. We shall openly ask for their assistance.

Admiral Yamamoto: Hail Lord Dangime!

General Mao: Hail Lord Dangime!

[OzzyKP]

Marshall Mussolini hears a knock on his office door.

"Come in. Ah, General Rommel, do you have information on the Egypt-India war?"

"It seems the Indians are reaching an agreement with Egypt."

"Excellent news."

"However it seems Egypt is giving credit to the Azande for brokering the deal. And seem to be warming up to them."

"The Azande?! Their army is posed to attack Egypt, and Egypt is warming up to them?! I was the one who first told the Azande to put pressure on India to resolve this war. I've been preparing our forces for war in the event a peace deal was not signed. What does Egypt say about us?"

"Well sir, I have just returned from The Forum, while there I heard nothing but grumblings from the Egyptian government. The officials I met did nothing but complain about USB while I was there."

"About USB? Why on earth would they complain about us when the Indians have taken half their nation and the Azande has several divisions parked right on their border?"

"I am unclear over the source of their discontent. However they ask for USB support in their conflict with India."

"Support?! Not more than a few weeks ago I sent a letter to all nations that stated the USB position on the war, and pledged our full support to Egypt and an acceptable peace deal. In fact, I have a copy sitting right here, I will read it. 'We cannot sit idly by and watch our friend the Egyptians get carved up by an aggressive, warmonger India. A peacetreaty acceptable by both sides will be signed. At gun point if necessary. '

In so many words we threatened war with India. If this is unacceptable to Egypt then they can stuff themselves."

"They appear to be making overtures to the Azande. I fear an alliance between Egypt, Azande and India with an aggressive stance to the north. Egypt now appears to be threatening Serbia."

"Bah, ridiculous. No one supported Egypt stronger than the British. During President Bush's...absense, it was my first official duty. I know very well our strong support for Egypt, if they so casually question out commitment and friendship perhaps we should reconsider."

"It shocks me that Egypt would abandon us and just link up with their enemies the Indians."

"I'm not so sure that's what they are doing. I fear their plans are far worse. It seems the shrewd Egyptians are attempting to play all sides in a bid to secure the greatest gifts from each side. I will not be played like fool. Tell them our offer for military intervention on their behalf stands. Tell them further that they need us far more than we need them, so if they are discontented with our offer they can seek better elsewhere."

[deity]

Originally posted by OzzyKP
Marshall Mussolini hears a knock on his office door.

"Come in. Ah, General Rommel, do you have information on the Egypt-India war?"

"It seems the Indians are reaching an agreement with Egypt."

"Excellent news."

"However it seems Egypt is giving credit to the Azande for brokering the deal. And seem to be warming up to them."

"The Azande?! Their army is posed to attack Egypt, and Egypt is warming up to them?!

She laughed! Almost a maniacal laugh. The pressure was intense. The mis-information rampant. How could she make the world see the true truth... ??

Not once has Azande threatened Egypt. To the contrary, Azande had secured Egypt in the Middle Ages by neutralising the Serbian threat to this day! In addition she had secured world peace ever since the Treaty of Budva until now, save the fate of the wretched Tartars. Through the ages all nations had benefited from Azande vigilance, stealth and decisive military and dipomatic actions. However the downside to controlling the Serbian historic aggression was the Macheovelian politics that was now reigning supreme.

Truth was the casualty.

The USB know this. BUT, they along with the Serbs HAD encouraged the Egyptians to attack the now super power India. The vulnerable Indians, who spent everything in retaliating to the Egyptian attack (as forseen in Serbia), now lay a a sitting duck; ripe for Chinese plunder. And if not the Chinese, then the Azande. It mattered not in Beograd, as long as the triumvirate nations remained in tact.

[deity]

Originally posted by OzzyKP
Marshall Mussolini hears a knock on his office door.

edit...

"Support?! Not more than a few weeks ago I sent a letter to all nations that stated the USB position on the war, and pledged our full support to Egypt and an acceptable peace deal. In fact, I have a copy sitting right here, I will read it. 'We cannot sit idly by and watch our friend the Egyptians get carved up by an aggressive, warmonger India. A peacetreaty acceptable by both sides will be signed. At gun point if necessary. '

In so many words we threatened war with India. If this is unacceptable to Egypt then they can stuff themselves."

"They appear to be making overtures to the Azande. I fear an alliance between Egypt, Azande and India with an aggressive stance to the north. Egypt now appears to be threatening Serbia."

"Bah, ridiculous. No one supported Egypt stronger than the British. During President Bush's...absense, it was my first official duty. I know very well our strong support for Egypt, if they so casually question out commitment and friendship perhaps we should reconsider."

"It shocks me that Egypt would abandon us and just link up with their enemies the Indians."

"I'm not so sure that's what they are doing. I fear their plans are far worse. It seems the shrewd Egyptians are attempting to play all sides in a bid to secure the greatest gifts from each side. I will not be played like fool. Tell them our offer for military intervention on their behalf stands. Tell them further that they need us far more than we need them, so if they are discontented with our offer they can seek better elsewhere."

The laughter became incessant, uncontollable!

Egypt didn't attack India... It was SERBIA!! LOL!

The fools!

It was the triumvirate of the USB/Serbia/China that attacked India! NOT Egypt!

LOL!

How is Egypt's action one of playing off sides? LOL!

They were promised the world by the trio and got jack for it! LOL!

Poor gypos!

And gun point diplomacy? LOL! Azande diplomacy has found the truth without guns!

The trio best beware....

[deity]

LizardTongue was prostrate but the mind was in overdrive... "If she makes one false move I'm there and India is dead."

[deity]

Lizard cuddled her son, Lidless.

"Ha! The fools, all of them! My people are rock solid behind me. I am omnipotent! I am a deity!"

[Rasputin]

Emporer Ali fled the Pacific region and headed to Europe to seek his friends. He knew he couldnt return to Egypt at present, too much was happening. Too many people were choosing sides. He knew not who was friend of foe, but he knew he could trust the Europeans.

He kept thinking of the prophecy as foretold to him, thast he would be the alst Emporer of Egypt before the end times, what did al lthis mean, and if he was to be the last Emporer , why wer eothers now scheming to remove him, could the Grea Razx be wrong.

He had to get the truth out, it wasnt him that initiated war with the Tartars and the Indians, it was always Marshall Dylan, he was a warmongerer. all that Ali wanted wss peace and his finasl resting place.

Ahh he could see the shores of Europe now, soon his ship would be docking and he would walk the streets of Paris with his friends.

The Last Emporer he was, but what did that mean??

He knew he would be safe in the heartland of Europe Bush ahd always been his friend, always behind the scenes, they may not have taken action due to his death, but he would explain to the new leader that Egypt needed many Guns to retake her homeland. Words were no longer enough. Threats were one thing but now USB would come to his aid and he would show the people of Egypt he was the true Emporer.

Yes he was the LAST EMPORER