In 2019 six nations formed the Network of Republics, an attempt at bringing together nations in much the same way as monarchies had. The organisation attempted to be a political, economic, cultural and semi-defensive grouping and today the initial six sit at two, one of whom is much different in form to three years ago.

As a Republic that in the grand scheme of Mundus' history is a relative newborn it is my hope that such networks can be utilised to bring about greater support for those on Mundus. As such though I believe the initial failure and the existence of a vast array of regional partnerships and grand alliances have consigned the original Network of Republics to be a thing of the past. It is my hope however that like the phoenix something can raise from the ashes. With this in mind I propose that Republics who have in interest in developing relations come and join me and my government in Klimpfjäll to form an organisation that has a much narrower focus. Should we be successful it is my hope that we can develop a network that will support us all in the fields of education, humanitarian endeavours and culture. I wish this to be not some grand organisation akin to MICA or an alliance like the CNN, it will be simply a bedrock on which moving forward we can each build grand friendships.

I hope my invitiation is not viewed as disrespectful to those who have gone before me and pray you will accept my invitation.

Best Wishes

President Sigmund Haugen
The Republic of Holmvik

To become an Ace a pilot must be confirmed as downing five enemy aircraft, Rebekka carried that distinction however she felt it was a lie. The first was so easy. As they'd been patrolling over the sea the orders had come over the radio to be on standby over the capital while attack helicopters entered the city. It had been a strange few weeks for Rebekka, she had grown up in the countryside like so many of the military. The countryside knew greater poverty and there were two ways out, the first was to take some crappy factory job and eek out an existance, the other was to get to University but that created a paradox, to get to University you needed money but to get money you needed the education, for decades this unbroken cycle existed but there was a way out. Pledge five years of your life to the crowns military and assuming you were honourably discharged you'd get to University. Rebekka had three years left when that faithful call of 20th July came in.

"Dis One and Two you're tasked to the capital for overwatch of the choppers. Maintain 10,000 feet and await their instructions."

"Roger that" Squadron Leader Baskkson responded before changing heading and watching carefully as his young wingman did likewise. Little did Baskkson know it was more than the control stick Rebekka was wrestling with. She had been a native of Nyksund and had wept when she'd seen the photos of  ten year old Jorunn Kristoffersen's face that had been caved in by a rubber bullet. She had been tempted to desert that day but her father had convinced her the King wasn't this stubborn and would find a solution everyone could live with but now a month later she knew her father would be down there in the capital marching with his fellow agricultural workers. As Baskkson praised her for her formation flying he gave his attention to checking his control panel and missed Dis Two fall back and with a deep breath, a flick of her wrist and press of a button a burst of machine gun fire ripped through Dis One, as the aircraft spiralled to the ground she saw no parachute and trying to push down the panic of what she had just done she thought again of her father and the approaching attack helicopters. She pushed her throttle to full and headed towards the capital. Several calls came asking what had happened to Dis One which she ignored and then as she approached the capital she spotted the helicopters on radar already engaging targets on the ground. She flicked a switch and imagined the shock on the helicopter pilots face as his missile lock warning rang out, she squeezed the button and watched as the missile streaked away from her. That was two down but now the work began.

"All callsigns we have a rouge fighter" a call came over the air and immediately she saw the helicopters change positions to deal with the bigger threat on the ground. Little did she know the cheers that the helicopter exploding brought from the ground. In that split second she had all but started a revolution as those in the capital believed they could take on the army. The helicopters hadn't been expecting an airborne threat and Rebekka was able to make light work of two more before the Air Forces next fighters arrived. It now became a spot of a dogfight as Rebekka flew in low over the city trying to catch the remaining attack helicopter while avoiding the fighters now after her. Two missiles narrowly missed her as she bobbed and weaved to get a view between buildings. With a split second glimpse and the buzz of a lock she fired her final missile and took down the final helicopter before evading a third missile which used up her last counter-measures. The skies now saw a deadly dance as a pair of fighters chased her and she twisted like a fish on a line to evade and once clear she could have made a run for it but where to. She switched to a frequency 156.8 MHz, used for international distress figuring if this situation wasn't one then nothing was. "This is Dis Two flown by Rebekka Axelsen. I am declaring an emergency. The Kingdom of Holmvik are killing the innocent. May Freyja take my soul." She was convinced it was a matter of time before her own demise and yet with a tight turn completed she was head on with a Royalist fighter. The Goddess must have been watching out for her as she instinctively pulled the trigger of her guns while her foe simply flew head on at her wide eyed. Rebekka pulled up and didn't see the rounds pierce the aircraft sending it crashing. The climb though put her into the sights of the second enemy fighter which brought about the second of Freya's miracles, the incoming bullets missed her but doomed her aircraft. She yanked hard on the ejector seat and felt the air rush from her lungs as she flew skyward. Two minutes later she thumped into the middle of a wide street full of debris and very pissed off civilians who had spent the last half an hour dodging attack helicopters, tear gas and rubber bullets. At first she thought the crowd would kill her but instead a young man rushed forward, a trash can lid as a shield. He grabbed her and pulled her towards a side street as she hobbled her knee sending pulses of pain through her lower body. "I'm not with the King." Rebekka sobbed as she slid slowly down the wall to sit with her back against the wall.

"We know. We saw" the young man glanced into the street where green uniformed men fired rubber bullets. "Come on" he grabbed her by the harness of her webbing and pulled her behind him the trash can making perhaps the worlds most ineffective shield. They reached the safety of the crowd who embraced her. It was clear that these people were now longer going to just accept the military bossing them around. Teams of protestors began making petrol bombs, throwing bricks and then Rebekka saw them, the first hunting rifles. Her father used to keep one above the fireplace and like the majority of those who lived in the fields and forests he was a deadly shot. As to where these men and the first soldiers fell to these sharpshooters. For the next 12 hours running battles went through the city and with the crowd beginning to recognise her she found herself in command of a rear guard action with thirty or so grizzled farmers. The University was the place to go. It was an island and walled, it would give some protection. One of her sharpshooters was a man in his forties, Sigmund Haugen, he was well connected in the farmers unions and was confident as news broke that more people would come to their aid and so they turned the University into a fortress. The Universities own military cadet force had already switched sides having killed their officer when he ordered them onto the streets. Rebekka found herself now with a garrison to command.

After two days of mortar and small arms fire a young art student by the name of Kristin clambered onto the University roof with a banner, blue with white stripes, just as the Kingdom had always had, the crowned bear emblem of the royals had gone, instead a Reindeer replacing it. Moments later Haugen and his fellow Union members made a radio announcement, "We, the people of Holmvik refuse to ruled by the Laudrasson family. We demand a right to determine our own future and we will not yield. We name our land the Republic of Holmvik and we believe it is better to fight and fall than to live without hope." Rebekka waited for death and looked forward to feasting with Freyja, she determined she would die well and prayed for the people of the nation to come to support them. Eight days later the walls of the University fell and the defenders began a slow fighting retreat. Of the 308 defenders of the island 189 were captured, Rebekka watched through binoculars as they were machine gunned and vowed revenge. The sacrifice of the 189 though saw hundreds of army officers rebel. That night across the Kingdom battalions turned against battalions, squadrons against squadrons and out on the submarine Ravens Shadow a fight among the crew saw the sub nearly sink. It soon became clear that the royals would lose and despite the old elites holding on for as long as they could word came to Rebekka on the 2nd August 2000 that the King had abdicated. A detachment of his own guard had betrayed him, captured his son and were threatening to execute him. The Republic was now a real breathing thing and from her position in the ruins of a department store the Air Force officer was carried by Haugen and the University survivors on their shoulders to the Palace. Despite the victory and glory Rebekka couldn't celebrate. She still hasn't.

Now half of her life has been lead with her fellow citizens poienting and whispering wherever she goes, people come up asking if she's "Dis Two" the dyed blonde hair fooling no one. "No, I get this a lot" She would smile and say before watching a disappointed member of the public disappear off about their business. Every year journalists would track her down, first at the rebuilt University she had called home, then at her families farmhouse and now even out on the lakes of the south where she flew as an Air Ambulance pilot. She had even once seen her medic crews paint Dis Two on her plane and they hadn't understood her anger as she had fetched white paint and painted over the red writing herself. Haugon had kept in touch, a politican now he often asked Rebekka to join him at rallies but she had refused, she just wanted to fly and let the world forget about her. That though had changed in 2017. Someone made a film of the revolution and despite trying to avoid it she had seen interviews with people portrayed in it and so many spoke of her being the first leader of the Republic. She didn't share their view but she knew hiding wasn't going to change things.

It was this realisation that lead her back to the capital for the first time since being carried through its streets. Her father meet her in a coffee shop and as her familiar "I get this a lot" formed at her lips as a young girl approached he silenced his daughter. "Yes this is Dis Two" he pronounced proudly. The coffee shop all seemed to stop and look at her. The girl, much younger than the Republic smiled and hurried back to her table appearing with a school homework book. She flicked to the history section and there was a picture of the downed Dis Two she asked for an autograph and Rebekkah's father urged her to sign. The autograph done the girl gave Rebekka hug before returning to her Mother. Rebekka was keen to get away and asked for the bill, the waiter smiled and said it had already been paid. She felt embarrassed, thanked the shop and then with her father left. It was clear she couldn't hide who she was. "Can we go see it?" Rebekka asked her father.

"About time." They walked the streets, stopping every now and again to peer down at golden coloured cobblestones bearing the name of a single person, the date of birth and the date of death, always July 2022. They turned a corner and a large crowd were milling around, the two joined them as Rebekka pulled up her hooded top. There at the centre of the crowd just outside the University were 189 of the golden plaques neatly arranged in a line. "Did I get them killed?" Rebekka asked her father. He paused for a moment and took hold of his daughters hand.

"Maybe" he said matter of factly. "That though isn't the question you should ask. You should ask did they know they would die? That answer to is yes, all of you in those walls considered yourself dead. Then ask yourself did they have a chance to walk away? Of course they did. They didn't though as just like you they knew that only through standing up for the people would we be free. They marched into Fólkvangr proud to have been beside you." Rebekka didn't need to read the names, she knew them all. She knelt next to the first and placed a hand on it. A black jacketed soldier approached her, four of them guarded the memorial and touching or walking on the stones wasn't permitted. Rebekkah apologised and stood but was then shocked as the young Guardsman looked wide eyed, snapped to attention and saluted. "I'm sorry Ma'am....carry on." She thanked him and tried to slide back into the crowd but it was too late and various people approached some shaking her hand, others wanting a picture, she didn't wait but just ran. It was clear she could have no life of anonimity and she there and then she made a decision just as she had done on that faithful day in 2000. She would face her destiny head on, if Freyja had placed her there it was for a reason and so that night she removed the blonde dye, the hoody was thrown out and the next day the flying jacket she had kept in a box was donned. There was only one place she wanted to go and she phoned ahead, which she regretted as the media had arrived. She ignored them as she entered the national museum. There in the first gallery it sat, now a twisted mess of metal, a few panels of holed history. "Dis Two" she said as she reached a hand out towards it behind the security barrier. She stopped spotting the "Please do not touch" sign.

"Its yours do what you like" a familiar voice behind her, Haugen had come. He was President now and watched as she turned back to the aircraft, reached out her hand and ran it along the writing under the cockpit saying "Flt Officer Axelsen - Dis Two" This is why Freyja put her here she thought to defend her family and folk. She thanked the plane and turned to Haugen, "I'm ready. I want my life back and I'm taking it. Sign me up." she smiled.

"Yes Ma'am" Haugen returned her grin and gave a small casual salute just as those at the University had done during the eight defiant days.