TSARGRAD -- A resolution first proposed by Javier Valens, independent MP for Highmark Central, calling for Tytor to lead a CSTO intervention into the ongoing civil war in Centralia, has begun to pick up steam in the House of Commons.  HC Res. 176, which if passed would direct the government to approach the CSTO regarding "the moral imperative" of intervening on behalf of the people of the former Tytorian colony, cleared its first major hurdle by being referred by the Foreign Affairs Committee to the Commons floor on Friday.  Valens, a Commons freshman who often caucuses with the Conservative Alliance, told reporters that he considers intervention in the Centralian crisis to be among Tytor's top priorities.  "We call ourselves free, and fancy ourselves a leader in the world," he said, "But how much of a leader are we really being if we ignore the suffering happening right in our proverbial backyard?  Sure, it's been decades since the Special Relationship died, but that doesn't mean we've no longer got a responsibility to do what we can.  We ought to be getting involved, whether in a peacekeeping capacity or through full on boots-on-the-ground."

When asked to comment on the resolution, Prime Minister Madeline Thatcher expressed doubt.  "The fact is, this move was inspired by Monday's FMN story," she said, "There's so much we don't know, and Mr. Valens would have us rush blindly in, never mind the consequences.  I, for one, shall not be supporting it."  Leader of the Opposition Prince Harold de Tarrenburg and Deputy Prime Minister Benjamin Morales both declined to comment.  This is a developing story, and will be updated.



ST. ELMO'S CITY -- The St. Elmo's City Council voted on Saturday to approve a proposal by the St. Elmo's City Development Board and the 11/11 Recovery Commission to rebuild the Decapolis Twin Towers, as part of a project to help the city recover from 2019's Remembrance Day terrorist attacks.  Albert Ratzenberger, spokesman for the 11/11 Recovery Commission, told reporters that the decision to rebuild won out over other proposals which would have memorialized the Towers in other ways.  "Even now, more than two years after the attacks, St. El's feels like something is missing," he said "Where once there was the city's greatest landmark, there is now an unmistakable void.  Some of the proposals we received included single-tower designs, large museums or concert venues, and even a few more or less empty lots.  We on the commission came to the conclusion that the outright reconstruction of the Twin Towers sent an important message: that we here in Tytor, and particularly in St. Elmo's City, refuse to be cowed by terrorism.  You may be able to knock our buildings down, but we will rebuild them, stronger and more durable than before.  While we're still looking at the details involved, the Twin Towers will return to being an immediately recognizable part of the St. Elmo's skyline."

The winning proposal was submitted by Norman Yale Construction Enterprises, an architecture and construction firm based in St. Elmo's City which lost several employees on 11/11.  When reached for comment, a spokesperson said only that NYC is "proud to be a part of the recovery process".  A spokesperson for For a Better Tomorrow, one of NYC's main competitors and a prominent part of the reconstruction of Aquilae, confirmed that the company had submitted one of the rejected bids, but otherwise declined to comment.

International news regarding Centralia has been sparse since the rogue broadcast that hijacked a CNTV newscast back in September.  Centralia has not sent athletes to sporting events in which it usually participates.  International flights into and out of Centralia's major cities have all but ended.  The Imperial Rokkenjiman Navy has quietly dropped Innsmouth and other Centralian ports from its port-of-call rotation.  With no official statement from President Tanner or his cabinet, the world is mostly left to wonder about the situation inside the country.  A Free Mundus Network journalist, Gail Featherstone, made her way into the Hermit Republic with a small camera crew at the beginning of January to find out.

According to early reports Featherstone made to FMN via satellite phone, the Lord's Resistance Army's broadcast seems to have been real.  Security has been heightened extensively in Centralia's major cities, and a rapidly escalating guerilla war appears to be underway in the countryside.  The extent of the rebels' territorial control seems difficult to determine, as the Centralian government, especially the Department of Homeland Security, keeps a tight leash on domestic information flow, but it seems to be fact that the rebel leader, former televangelist Nehemiah Godfrey, is using his old church in Ashboro, state capital of New Jordan, as his headquarters.

Indeed, Godfrey seems to have turned Ashboro into a veritable fortress, using it as a staging point from which to--

Hold on.  <Muffled> Is this for real?  Do we have her?  What do you mean, "no"?  Just the footage.  So, like James in Ubakasa however many--  All right, fine, hang a moment.

We go now to footage we here at FMN just received from Gail Featherstone in New Eastland City.  As I understand it, her team shot this all of... an hour and a half ago.  <Muffled, to offscreen> Phil?

<Recording begins>

<Off camera> "And we're rolling."

"Good.  I'm Gail Featherstone, reporting from the observation deck of Grant Tower in New Eastland City, Centralia.  The largest city in the country is less than a hundred miles, or a hundred and sixty kilometers, from New Providence, the capital.  And now, as I record this, the LRA is in the suburbs, moving further toward the city center with every passing moment."

<Distant gunfire off-camera, followed by explosions>

"Fighting is heavy, from what we can tell.  The Federal Army is here in force, but the LRA seems to have heavier weapons than one would expect from a backwoods guerilla force.  The few soldiers I've been able to talk to over the past hour or two make it seem like there was some sort of army base outside Ashboro that the LRA got its hands on months ago."

<Jet passes overhead, camera focuses on missile strikes>

"Good grief, that's 31st Street!  How many blocks away is that?"

<Off-camera> "Uh... I'd say nine or ten.  Running full-tilt, those fighters could get to this building in, what, thirty minutes?

"Well, then we've got time.  Okay.  Now then, where...?  Oh, yeah.  As we can see, the domestic line that this is nothing more than a few disgruntled farmers making trouble in the countryside is complete crap.  For the rebels to be in New Eastland means that they have momentum, possibly enough to make a break for New Providence itself.  It must be truly a mark of how few true friends the Federal Republic has around the world that it has neither asked for nor received aid internationally.  It may be only a matter of time before the Tanner administration is toppled outright at this rate."

<Off-camera> "Hey, you, <expletive> reporter lady, don't you know we're evacuating this building?"

"I'm in the middle of recording--"

<Off-camera> "I don't care if you're the Empress of <expletive> Tamora, get your <expletive> butt downstairs before I make you!"

"Gah!  Fine.  You win.  All right, Hank, let's get this show on downstairs.  You and Will get the equipment dismantled, and let's find a place to send this home."

<Off-camera> "Righto, Gail, cutting out right--"

<Recording ends>

...Well.  From that, we can gather that the initial reports were inaccurate.  Centralia is engulfed in a civil war the likes of which it certainly has never seen before.  This "Lord's Resistance Army" is in the process of taking over the country's largest city -- or at least it was, about an hour and a half ago.  It's unclear at the moment how much of this Mundus's major powers already know, but it's clear to me that Centralia's public silence has been concealing an unmitigated national disaster of epic proportions.  It is now up to the international community to determine how -- and whether -- to respond to the Centralian crisis.

This has been the Free Mundus Network.

The Bothan official who greeted Tien on the landing pad seemed irritated.  Tien assumed that probably had something to do with the TIE fighters which had shadowed Ace of Staves on the way down the well.  Tien was glad he'd resisted the temptation to change Ace's transponder again, just in case Vainglorious had relayed any suspicions to the Imp forces here on Kothlis.  And there was the problem, no?  Imp forces, here on Kothlis.  Heck, it was like the Empire had just outright occupied Bothan space, and Tien didn't like it.  Did this mean there were going to be inquisitors waiting for them on Krant after all?  Tien sure hoped not.  The trio on Nar Shaddaa had given him enough of the creeps to last him a lifetime.  No, scratch that.  Three lifetimes.  Oh merciful Triakk, he thought desperately, I'd give anything not to have to face the Inquisitorius again.  Which, come to think of it, was probably the point of their brutal tactics: intimidation.

With a mental sigh, Tien set out into the city of Tal'cara, directing his steps toward a local market he remembered for its fresh vegetables.  Threebie trundled along behind him.  She was unusually quiet given the circumstances, but Tien was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he almost didn't notice.  He'd invited any of Ace's passengers to come along who wanted to, though Gav had made an excuse and most of the orphans seemed content to stay aboard the ship.  However, two had decided to accompany him: the Twi'lek and one of the Humans - Tien could never remember their names, and telling the Human children apart was all but impossible for him, even after weeks in hyperspace with them.

As Tien and his motley entourage entered the marketplace, he observed several things.  First was the small contingent of stormtroopers patrolling the place.  Second was a Talz who looked very out of place surrounded by Bothan merchants, all evidently trying to sell various pieces of merchandise.  Third was a Human (Tien thought it was male) trying very hard to remain inconspicuous and, in Tien's opinion, failing miserably, though it didn't look like the stormtroopers had noticed yet.  And fourth... fourth was the very vegetable stand Tien had hoped to find here.  Tien smiled to himself and began to push his way through the crowd toward it.

Tien pretended not to hear Anja's muttering, and nodded fervently.  "Yes," he said, "It definitely wouldn't do to stay at Kothlis too long.  Though I think we may want to at least stop for a few hours to fully dispel suspicion.  I told the Imperials we're transporting grain, though obviously we don't actually have any on board aside from whatever's in our provisions.  However, what with the Inquisitorius after you and all, I think it might be a good idea to find a place on Kothlis where all these orphans of yours can lay low until we can get them all off to Telos.  I believe I recall a nice enough apartment complex not far from the spaceport in Tal'cara, if you believe it worth the potential risk."

Just then, the Ace of Staves reached the edge of the gravity well, and a light told him that the navicomputer had the route to Kothlis calculated.  Without further ado, Tien punched the hyperdrive into action.  He sat back amid the silence as the stars lengthened into streaks across the pitch black void of realspace, and then all was swallowed into the pulsating blue and white of hyperspace.

"Anyway," he continued after a moment, "As I'm merely the hired pilot, do let me know what you would like to do.  If we choose to offload the orphans, I think I can estimate a stay on Kothlis no longer than... oh, three or four standard hours, give or take a few minutes' haggling."

Germania, Freistaat Preussen, Germany
13 June 1975
4:19 AM CEST

Karl hid in the shadows behind a phone booth as the Kripo patrol passed by, the flat parcel hidden carefully under his overcoat.  There wasn't technically a curfew, but even so, Karl still didn't want to bump into the police, especially not this early in the morning.  It was a good thing this particular job was a well-paid one, or he would have turned it down flat for the sheer danger of infiltrating the very capital of the Reich.  Sure, smuggling was already dangerous in port cities like Bremen or Hamburg, but Germania was a whole other story entirely.  If he was caught, Karl fully expected to be treated like a foreign spy, even though he could prove that he'd been born in Leipzig.

The Kripo officers disappeared around the corner, and Karl emerged from his hiding place.  In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten exactly where he was.  Germania was a big city, and not one he was intimately familiar with.  No street signs were immediately forthcoming, so he set off in the direction he had been traveling when the Kripo goons had appeared.  After a little while, Karl found himself walking past the Volksbad Germania - the Germania People's Pool, the huge public swimming pool built in the unfinished foundation of Hitler's long-since-canceled Volkshalle.  Good, then he knew where he was.  He sped up.  It should only be a few more blocks, and then... ah, there it was.  The Reich Chancellery, right where it was supposed to be.

Karl gave the front of the building a wide berth, as he had no need for the guards and security cameras to see him.  But... there was an alley off to the left that would get him around back, where his instructions said he needed to go.  He checked his watch; good, he was practically right on time.  He crept around the building, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.  No spotlights wheeled around in his direction, no voices shouted out challenges.  He got to the designated door in the back of the building without trouble, and knocked quietly.  After a moment's wait, he heard the sound of a bolt being turned, and the door opened a crack.  A shaft of light poured into the alleyway, illuminating Karl so thoroughly that he couldn't have escaped detection if he'd wanted to.  There was a man he didn't recognize on the other side of the door.

"Sie sind Karl Heidrich?" the man demanded, somewhat harshly.

"Ja," Karl replied, nodding once.

"Hast du das paket?" the man asked, a little less harshly.

"Ja, ich habe es hier," Karl answered, patting his coat where the package was concealed.

There was a pause.  Then the door closed, a chain rattled, and the door was flung open again.  "Komm rein," the strange man said, waving Karl over the threshold.

The door led into a small room that looked like a pantry of sorts, but Karl didn't have much time to take in his surroundings.  The strange man beckoned him forward, and the two of them left the room and headed upstairs.  It took Karl a few moments to fully grasp the fact that he was inside the Chancellery, and by then they had begun climbing a flight of stairs to the second floor.  Karl was too busy taking in the sights to notice where they were heading, and so almost walked into the other man when he stopped in front of a particular door.  The other man knocked and entered, and Karl followed automatically.  Then he realized that he had just walked into the Führer's office.

Martin Bormann, Führer und Reichskanzler of the Greater German Reich, was sitting behind his desk, doing paperwork.  The older man looked up expectantly when the pair entered his office, and Karl suddenly found himself completely lost for words.

"Ah," Bormann said, standing up quickly and rounding the desk, ignoring his visitors' salutes, "Du hast was für mich."  It was a statement, not a question, so Karl did not answer.  "Ist es nicht so?" Bormann prompted.

Karl nodded mutely, then put one hand into his coat to withdraw the package.  He hadn't realized that his package was for the Führer.  For that matter, Karl didn't even know what the package was.  Bormann reached out and took it from him.  The older man ripped the package open with an almost eager look on his face, and pulled out... a phonograph record.  Karl was nonplussed.  The Fuehrer turned and fiddled with a record player in a back corner of the office.  Karl half expected some secret code or other, but what came from the phonograph was clearly the sound of... trumpets?  Trumpets, yes, and other musical instruments, and as it dawned on Karl that he had been smuggling not state secrets or some other sort of sensitive information, but rather banned Western music, a deep voice began issuing forth from the phonograph as well.

"Love... is a burning thing... And it makes... a fiery ring.  Bound... by wild desire... I fell into a ring of fire..."

---

OOC note: My apologies to any native German speakers if the German spoken in this post is mangled beyond belief; if it is, you can blame Google Translate for that.  Listed below is the intended translation of each line:

Unidentified man: "You are Karl Heidrich?"

Karl: "Yes."

Unidentified man: "Do you have the package?"

Karl: "Yes, I have it here."

Unidentified man: "Get inside."

Bormann: "Ah, you have something for me."

Bormann again: "Is it not so?"

As an additional note, the song that begins at the end of the story is Johnny Cash's 1963 rendition of Ring of Fire, which can be listened to here.

Tien jumped at the sound of Anja's voice.  He hadn't heard her come into the cockpit.  Still, her presence was calming in an odd, almost unrelated way.  In the back of his head, he was aware that it was probably something to do with the fact that she was, well, a Jedi, but this didn't really bother him at the moment.

"Nice and easy," he echoed, and steadied himself.  There was relatively little to fear, in the event that the Imps were just harassing the Bothans and not actively looking for the Ace of Staves, as the old girl had a few tricks of her own up her metaphorical sleeves.  For one thing, she actually had a few different transponder codes that he could swap out whenever he needed.  In fact, he'd been on Nar Shaddaa using the transponder code of a fictional freighter called the Druckenwell's Bounty.  He'd had the foresight to swap codes during the first jump to Randon; they were now registering on any scanner pointed their way as the merchantman Force of Habit.

The comm buzzed insistently at that moment.  "Unidentified freighter, this is the Star Destroyer Vainglorious," a bossy male voice said, "Identify yourself and state your business."

"Vainglorious, this is Captain Siuv Sall of the Force of Habit," Tien replied at once in Sullustese, "We are a private contractor with SoroSuub, transporting a shipment of grain to Kothlis."  There was indeed a private contractor named Siuv Sall who did, in fact, work for SoroSuub on occasion, but he owned an Action IV transport - a bulk freighter.  Tien was hoping, almost against hope, that the Vainglorious would buy the story without looking too deeply into the details.

There was a long pause on the ImpStar's end.  Tien realized that the Imps were doubtlessly doing some factchecking.  It didn't take too long for Imperial Navy interpretation software to translate a simple sentence of Sullustese into Basic, after all.  Finally, the comm buzzed again.  "Very well, Force of Habit, you are cleared to transit the system," the bossy voice said, "Due to circumstances here, we're rerouting you somewhat.  Please adjust your course to the heading being transmitted to you now."

"Acknowledged," Tien said, still in Sullustese, deciding in an instant not to push his luck further, "Thank you very much, Vainglorious."  He switched the comm off and collapsed into his chair, practically melting into the soft synthleather seat in relief.  He keyed the autopilot to follow the course the Vainglorious was giving the Ace of Staves, and swiveled his chair to face Anja.

"I don't know whether you speak Sullustese," he said, speaking Basic once more, "But we've got ourselves a change of plans.  Rather than going straight from here to Kranth, we're going to have to jump to Kothlis to keep up appearances.  Fortunately, it doesn't seem like the Imperials are actively looking for us here; we seem to have bumped into them by mistake."

OAKLAND CITY -- President Jim Tanner took part in the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the Oakland Central Power Facility on Monday afternoon.  The new power plant, which is powered by natural gas, is expected to provide as much as 60% of the state's power needs--

<Signal interrupted; rogue broadcast begins>

"People of Centralia, many of you already know who I am.  I am not a stranger to primetime television in this country, though it is true that I have rarely broadcast from this auditorium on any day of the week except Sunday.  For those of you who are not familiar with me, I am Nehemiah Godfrey, pastor of the Ashboro Evangelical Christian Church until a few months ago, when I was abducted and imprisoned without charge by the Department of Homeland Security.  This nation's government has wronged me, as it has wronged many of you, and it is time for the corruption to end.

"I stand here today as the shepherd of a new flock, the Lord's Resistance Army.  We are, first and foremost, freedom fighters, struggling for the God-given rights and privileges we are denied under Lance Pullman's shadow regime.  We fight for the spiritual and temporal wellbeing of all Centralians, old and young, male and female, for all are children of God Almighty.

"The point, at last: today, the thirteenth day of the ninth month of the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty-One, marks the beginning of a crusade, a People's Crusade for the Liberation of Centralia.  The Lord Our God blesses those who follow Him, and so I can promise that all who follow Him in this great crusade, this holy war for the destruction of the godless bureaucrats and politicians in the blasphemously-named city of New Providence, will assuredly see His blessings.

"For mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, and He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.  He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword, and His truth is marching on.  Glory, glory!  Hallelujah!"

<Rogue broadcast ends; newscast resumes>

Ashboro, New Jordan
Federal Republic of Centralia
September 13, 2021 - 2:14 PM

The huge church rose before Godfrey as the magnificent religious monument it was.  The windows and doors had been boarded up by the CJB agents who had abducted him almost four months ago, but it would take very little time to remove the temporary additions and refit the building as the LRA's new headquarters.  Godfrey smiled grimly to himself.  He could only hope that the CJB idiots hadn't damaged his television broadcasting equipment, because he was going to need it soon.

The Lord's Resistance Army had swelled in the weeks since the sudden, tragic death of Emmanuel Sutherland.  Poor leader as he may have been, he made an excellent martyr, and the official story was that he had died in his sleep after an attack by a government plant.  The one surviving guard from that night had been conveniently arrested on charges of embezzlement and executed two days later, so there was little reason to worry about the truth coming out.  Despite the rapid growth of the LRA, however, the government had not as of yet made any major move toward ending the threat Godfrey posed.  It was an oversight that he intended to make them regret, and for this purpose he had marched the vast majority of his followers into the city of Ashboro.

The first step had been the seizure of an army post a little ways outside of town, followed by the occupation of every police station in the city.  With the element of surprise on his side, this had given Godfrey access to all kinds of heavy weaponry and other equipment which he would never have had available to him with Sutherland still in charge.  The next step lay before him in the derelict church, and in the heads of a number of expert technicians and hackers who had joined the LRA over the course of its history.  Godfrey watched as his men ripped away the boards from the front door; it was time to act.

As it turned out, the CJB had not damaged the television equipment inside the building.  Godfrey supposed if they had there was doubtlessly a local CNTV station he could have requisitioned, but this was easier.  His followers had already ensured that the building had power, and it would likely take only an hour or two to prepare for his broadcast, hack into the nation's television and radio networks, and get everything ready for what was to come.  The minutes passed gradually, and Godfrey entertained himself by playing checkers with one of his lieutenants in his old office.  The other man wasn't very good.

Finally, it was time.  Godfrey strode onto the stage in the vacant auditorium, and his technicians ran a sound check.  Everything was working just fine, and the hack would begin the moment the cameras began rolling in earnest.  Godfrey cleared his throat noisily, and then, staring straight into the camera, he began.

"People of Centralia, many of you already know who I am.  I am not a stranger to primetime television in this country, though it is true that I have rarely broadcast from this auditorium on any day of the week except Sunday.  For those of you who are not familiar with me, I am Nehemiah Godfrey, pastor of the Ashboro Evangelical Christian Church until a few months ago, when I was abducted and imprisoned without charge by the Department of Homeland Security.  This nation's government has wronged me, as it has wronged many of you, and it is time for the corruption to end.

"I stand here today as the shepherd of a new flock, the Lord's Resistance Army.  We are, first and foremost, freedom fighters, struggling for the God-given rights and privileges we are denied under Lance Pullman's shadow regime.  We fight for the spiritual and temporal wellbeing of all Centralians, old and young, male and female, for all are children of God Almighty.

"The point, at last: today, the thirteenth day of the ninth month of the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty-One, marks the beginning of a crusade, a People's Crusade for the Liberation of Centralia.  The Lord Our God blesses those who follow Him, and so I can promise that all who follow Him in this great crusade, this holy war for the destruction of the godless bureaucrats and politicians in the blasphemously-named city of New Providence, will assuredly see His blessings.

"For mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, and He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.  He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword, and His truth is marching on.  Glory, glory!  Hallelujah!"

And with that, he bowed his head, and the broadcast cut off.

New York City, New York, USA
August 19th, 1991
7:30 AM EDT




BERLIN, Monday, Aug. 19 -- Alois Mock was apparently ousted from power today by military and Gestapo authorities while he was on vacation in the Austrian Alps.

The announcement by "the German leadership" came as Herr Mock was about to proceed into a new era of liberalization for the Reich's citizenry.

The sudden announcement this morning stunned the nation and left it groping for information as Reich officials declared a state of emergency.


The apparent removal of Herr Mock, six years into his "Wiederaufbau" reform program, came three days after his former confidant and reform adviser, Alfred Dregger, left the Nazi Party, warning of a coming coup d'etat.

The German news agency DNB cited Herr Mock's "inability for health reasons" to perform his duties as Fuehrer.

Deputy Fuehrer Gerhard Stoltenberg was assuming presidential powers under a new entity called a State Committee for the State of Emergency. Its members include Theodor Dannecker, chief of the Gestapo, and Rupert Scholz, the Defense Minister.


The shocking announcement said the committee, in assuming powers, had found that "a mortal danger had come to loom large" in the nation and that Herr Mock's reform program has gone into a "blind alley."

The committee contended the reforms had caused "extremist forces" to threaten the nation and leave it "just a step from mass manifestations of spontaneous discontent."

The scene on the streets of Berlin was calm at the hour of 6 A.M. when the announcement was made. Later in the morning, as the city approached a new work week, Berliners heading downtown could see 10 armored personnel carriers moving a few miles north of Wilhelmplatz toward the Reich Chancellery. But there were no crowds or other signs of public reaction.

In fact, the public has been noticeably calm, even passive, in recent weeks as Herr Mock and the state and Gau leaders prepared fresh plans to speed the nation to greater constitutional and democratic reforms.


The emergency committee's announcement contended that increasing domestic instability in the Third Reich was "undercutting its position in the world."

"We are a peace-loving nation and will unfailingly honor all assumed commitments," the emergency committee declared. "Any attempts at talking to our country in the language of diktat, no matter by whom, will be decisively cut short," the committee added in language reminiscent of the Cold War.

The DNB announcement insisted the state of emergency would be "temporary."

It said that Herr Stoltenberg stated that "all power in the country" had been transferred to the committee.


Reich leadership announcements said that Herr Stoltenberg issued a statement vowing that "in no way" did the removal of Herr Mock mean "renunciation of the course towards profound reform" in German life.

However, the shift in power to central party authorities came after days of complaint from central government authorities over what was to have been a new phase in Herr Mock's democratization program. On Tuesday, the leaders of the nation's 20 states were scheduled to begin signing a new federalization treaty to shift considerable power away from the central government and into the states.

Party authorities, including Kurt Biedenkopf, criticized the text of the federalization treaty, citing "how dangerous" the draft treaty could prove unless if were further amended.

Herr Mock was last seen two weeks ago, shortly after his meeting with President Cuomo at the start of his vacation.

Herr Dregger, the former colleague and strategist, said in his announcement Friday that while the party was losing influence, it was still making "preparations for social revenge, a party and state coup."


Today's announcement, made through the traditional means of the government-controlled news media, stunned the German public. It signaled that an attempt was being made to bring under heel Herr Mock's historic series of democratization reforms.

The occasion was eerie with the trappings of past party intrigues: classical music flooding the airwaves, interrupted by periodic readings by a monotoned announcer of the attempted change in power.

In the first hours following the emergency announcement, armed guards outside the state broadcasting studio here were denying entry to news professionals working at Radio Deutschland, one of the new Offenheit-era independent news-gathering outlets.

This indicated that the government committee that announced emergency powers might try and curtail independent information and open debate about their move.

There was no immediate means of estimating the chances of success of the party hard-liners' move to re-solidify central powers. The largest open question was whether the states, so intent lately on gaining greater self-rule, might resist in some fashion.

Minister-President Helmut Kohl of the Prussian state was certain to be highly critical opposed in his role as the populist leader of the political opposition.

No immediate comment was available from Herr Kohl, who had led the latest compromise agreement with Herr Mock to further democratize the nation.

No details were offered on Herr Mock's alleged failing health, nor was there any comment permitted in government-controlled press accounts from the democratic opposition groups that had taken root in the past two years.

Beyond Fuehrer Mock, the announcement was a particular blow to the leaders of the states who have been intent on securing greater local authority from the central government through the pending federalization treaty.

Chief among these was Herr Kohl, an avid supporter of the federalization treaty who had warned last weekend that the current "archaic" party-dominated government in Berlin had to be removed if the treaty were to succeed or else the party would "continue to crush us."

Fuehrer Mock had thought to appease hard-liners last winter by retreating somewhat from his reform agenda and turning back toward traditional central controls to deal with the nation's economic and political crisis.

With the crisis only deepening, however, he cast himself more fully with the reformers last April and reached a sweeping compromise to share the nation's powers more fully with the sovereignty-hungry states. He thereby indicated his resolve to try and rebuff the hard liners and diminish the Nazi Party's still dominant authority through fresh constitutional reform.

Some of his own cabinet ministers, most notably Chancellor Bernhard Vogel, was strongly resistant and complaining about the alleged dangers to the nation presented by the union treaty's program for decentralizing party authority.

---

(OOC: Credit is due to both Francis X. Clines and The New York Times for the original article, which I have adapted under the principles of fair use.)

Toronto, Ontario, Canada
27 June 1973
8:51 PM EDT

The queue was moving very slowly, Laura thought somewhat miserably.  The newest James Bond movie had been talked up extensively in the Toronto Star ahead of release, so Laura and her friends had been very thoroughly hyped for it.  Sure, by all accounts Richard Starkey was no Sean Connery, but for heaven's sake, he was a native son - a Canadian!  And if the press photos were to be believed, he was gorgeous.  There were even rumors that Martin Bormann, the German Fuehrer, had arranged a covert showing for himself, despite the fact that the film (like most Western media) was banned across most of continental Europe, though Laura wasn't sure how much to believe that.

"Can this line take any longer?"

Laura glanced over at Sally, her roommate and companion in this moviegoing excursion, who had just said what Laura was thinking.  Laura grinned.  "Probably," she said, "I mean, we're only, what, one time around the building away from the ticket counter?  Could be worse."

"Sure," Sally said, sounding unconvinced, "But I want to be in the theater now."

"You and me both," Laura shot back, "Doesn't change the fact that we got here too late to be inside already."

"I suppose," Sally said slowly.

"In fact," Laura went on good-naturedly, "Maybe if somebody hadn't needed to take so much time on her hair, we'd have arrived earlier."

"Shut up," Sally laughed, "You spent at least ten minutes trying to decide which pair of shoes to wear yourself!"

With that, the pair of them started laughing uncontrollably.  The laughter lasted a minute or two, as the line continued inching its way toward the front of the cinema.

"Oh, I just remembered!" Laura said suddenly, "Did you see the Star yesterday?"

"No, I didn't," Sally answered, "Why?"

"There was something in there about the Watergate hearings in the States," Laura elaborated, "Something about someone in the Kennedy administration testifying.  Oh, what was his name?  Temple, I think.  Larry Temple.  An attorney for the president or something like that."

"Yeah?" Sally said, "What about him?"

"Well, the article I read claims that he was involved in the coverup the US Congress is investigating," Laura said, "It's like he's an important advisor to JFK who's turned tattletale for the prosecution.  You know, for a reduced sentence or something."

"Really?" Sally said, "Huh.  So there's something to it after all?  I thought this was just the other side not liking his policies or something.  I mean, the Republicans didn't really like his trip to Italy last year, did they?"

"Trudeau didn't like it much either, remember," Laura said, "What was it he called it?  'Shamelessly kowtowing to Mussolini', or something like that?"

"Oh, it's been too long," Sally said, grimacing, "But that sounds like him.  I mean, I appreciate how anti-fascist he is - it's a large part of why I voted for him last year - but surely the fact that Mussolini's distancing himself from Germany means that we can potentially get him on our side, right?"

"I dunno," Laura said, "Maybe."

The pair lapsed into silence for a few more minutes until they passed a poster for American Graffiti, and then they spent the rest of the wait chatting happily about film, Ron Howard, and other aspects of culture in 1973 Canada.

The weeks passed.  Before too long, Tien was getting ready to drop the Ace of Staves out of hyperspace in the Both system.  The journey had been uneventful enough; just a few overzealous customs officials, and no sign of Imp pursuit.  Yet something about this trip made Tien uneasy.  At first, he thought maybe it was his basic distrust of Bothans, brought about by a run-in he'd had in Bothan Space a few years ago, but no... this was different.  Despite her promise to tell Tien more about her experiences in the Clone Wars, Threebie had remained tight-lipped (could a droid be tight-lipped?), and Tien had yet to work up the nerve to ask the Jedi for more information himself.

Tien sighed to himself.  The moment had come, and it was time to end this leg of the journey.  The ship's computer chirped at him, and he pulled back on the lever to revert the freighter to realspace.  There was the system's primary, Both, shining brightly as ever.  There was Bothawui, a mottled green-and-blue sphere splashed with the white of clouds.  There was the typical traffic of such an important shipyard, mingling with the world's own defense force.

And there, dead ahead, was an Imperial Star Destroyer.

Tien was shocked.  The Bothans did not take kindly to Imperial meddling in their space.  Tien didn't blame them; as an Imperial client state, Bothan Space was supposed to enjoy a degree of independence from the Empire, as it had as an Allied Region under the Republic for thousands of years before the Emperor was even born.  Tien couldn't tell exactly what the Star Destroyer was doing here, but based on the security vessels shadowing its movements, the Bothans did not seem to be very happy about it.  Tien keyed the Ace of Staves's intercom.

"Well, folks, we've made it to Bothawui," he said, "But we may be facing some issues here before we can continue to Krant.  I suggest everyone find a place to strap in, because things may get a little dicey before we're through.  And Master Jedi?  I would appreciate your presence in the cockpit as quickly as possible."

Tien half-remembered from stories he had heard told over the years that Jedi could sense other Force users.  While it seemed almost impossible that those inquisitors could have reached Bothawui before them, it seemed too much of a coincidence for him to want to ignore the possibility.  He switched the intercom back off and leaned back in his chair.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered.

Separating out Floodwater's athletes as a separate team this year.

Tytor's specialist disciplines are:
1. Ball and Stick Games
2. Diving
3. Racket Sports

Floodwater's specialist disciplines are:
1. Volleyball
2. Sailing
3. Football

Centralia's specialist disciplines are:
1. Weightlifting
2. Boxing
3. Gymnastics

---

Primary Location: Tsargrad, Province of East Crownlands

Venue Info:

• Tsargrad International Stadium (athletics, opening/closing ceremonies; 60,000 gross capacity)
• James Byron Phys-Ed Center (wrestling; 400 gross capacity)
• Streets of Tsargrad (athletics [marathon, walks], cycling [individual road race]; gross capacity inestimable)
• Tsargrad Fencing Hall (fencing, pentathlon [fencing]; gross capacity unknown)
• Ed Ratzenberger Sporting Palace (gymnastics [rhythmic], volleyball; 8,000 gross capacity)
• Violet Davidson Memorial Arena (gymnastics [artistic], skateboarding, volleyball [final]; 15,000 gross capacity)
• Mack Hardy Sporting Pavillion (weightlifting; gross capacity unknown)
• Westham Park Municipal Swimming Pool (diving, water polo; 6,500 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad University Swimming Pool (pentathlon [swimming], swimming, synchronized swimming, water polo [final]; 10,000 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad Sports Arena (football [final]; 65,600 gross capacity)
• Uptown Martial Arts Palace (judo, karate, mixed martial arts, taekwondo; 6,400 gross capacity)
• Westham Park Football Stadium (football, rugby sevens; 42,000 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad Royal Polo Club (equestrian [dressage, jumping, polo, eventing final], pentathlon [riding]; 9,600 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad International Archery Field (archery, equestrian [mounted archery]; gross capacity unknown)
• King's Valley Pavillion (volleyball; 2,500 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad Tennis Hall (tennis; 8,000 gross capacity)
• Steve Jordan Velodrome (cycling [track]; 3,800 gross capacity)
• East Station Sports Hall (pool, snooker, chess; 5,500 gross capacity)
• International Harbor of Tsargrad (sailing; gross capacity inestimable)
• Joshua Norton Badminton Hall (badminton; 4,000 gross capacity)
• East Crownlands Route 91 (cycling [road team time trial]; gross capacity inestimable)
• Lake Talbot (rowing; gross capacity inestimable)
• Hartshorn Ballpark (baseball, cricket; 41,000 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad Equestrian Club (equestrian [dressage, eventing endurance, jousting]; 3,400 gross capacity)
• Dwight Parkinson Memorial Stadium (field hockey, lacrosse, muggle quidditch; 10,200 gross capacity)
• Mountainview Shooting Range (pentathlon [shooting], shooting; 1,400 gross capacity)
• Tsargrad Boxing Arena (boxing; 5,500 gross capacity)
• Minutemen Palace (basketball, netball; 12,500 gross capacity)

Additional info here.

Main TV Rights Holder: Tytorian Broadcasting Service (TBS)

Athlete Accommodation: Northcrown Athletes' Village




The eighth incarnation of the Mundus Games comes the year after the world sent its athletes to Tamora and Royal Seleucid, two nations infamous for their maintenance of the archaic and evil practices of slavery and indentured servitude.  Tytor sat out those games, as to attend would be to lend legitimacy to these instances of regime-sponsored oppression and to further the indignity to which the games themselves were exposed.  It is with this history in mind, and with the hope that we can restore some of the honor which the games lost last year, that I have the privilege of putting forward this bid for hosting rights on behalf of the city of Tsargrad, capital of the Kingdom of Tytor.

Tytor has long been a major player in the sporting world.  We have hosted the Mundus Games once before, in Aquilae, as well as several other international sporting events.  We know how to conduct a fair and unbiased Mundus Games, as we have experience doing so, and the world knows it.  If selected to host this most prestigious of competitive events, the Tytorian government pledges to hold the neutral and internationally cooperative status of the games inviolable; no athletes, trainers, or other participants will be barred from entering the country for political or diplomatic reasons, and all will be given diplomatic immunity for the duration of the games; all events will be protected to the best of the ability of the Kingdom of Tytor to do so; and all foreign nationals wishing to attend the games will have access to semi-expedited tourist visas for the duration of the games.

It is my hope, and the hope of the Tytorian government, that the international sporting community will once again entrust this greatest of sporting events to our capable hands, that these may be the best games thus far.

-Sir Gregory Major, Minister of Foreign Affairs

Undisclosed location
Federal Republic of Centralia
June 11, 2021 - 6:22 PM

"You can't do this to me!  You have no right!  I demand you release me at once!  Do you even know who I am?"

Godfrey could tell that his words were having no effect.  They echoed dismally in the hallway beyond the bars of his cell door.  The CJB had not told him for what charges he was being held, and he was quite sick of this clearly false imprisonment.  His white suit was now dingy and wrinkled after almost four weeks in custody, and he'd lost his bolo tie at some point during his arrest.  He could tell that he reeked of body odor, and his sparse gray hair was matted against the sides of his head.  He was already starting to lose hope of ever seeing his church and the flash of cameras ever again.  Disgusted at the lack of response, he turned away from the bars and started over to the cot in the back of the cell.  Suddenly, footsteps could be heard outside, and Godfrey turned around again.

"When has shouting ever accomplished anything?" asked the voice of Lance Pullman, Secretary of Homeland Security.

"With the Lord's help, shouting brought down the walls of Jericho," Godfrey retorted.

Pullman appeared in the doorway, framed by the iron bars keeping Godfrey in place.  "Ah, but this isn't Jericho, Mr. Godfrey," the smaller man said, a smirk paying on the corners of his mouth, "This is Centralia.  Around here, we do things more businesslike."

"The devil take your business," Godfrey spat, "What do you want with me?"

"Nothing," Pullman replied, "I'm perfectly happy to get absolutely nothing from holding you prisoner for the rest of your miserable life.  Unless..."

"If you're wanting me to collaborate with your miserable shadow dictatorship, then you can forget it," Godfrey interrupted, "I'd rather rot here than aid you."

"Very well," Pullman said coolly, "Enjoy rotting."

With that, Pullman left, and Godfrey deflated a bit.  If he could only get out, he would show them.  He would show them all.

Several hours passed.  Godfrey slept a bit; not much, though, because the cot was rather uncomfortable.  His expensive Rokkenjiman watch read 11:06 when there was a sudden commotion down the hall.  Shouting from the guards was suddenly cut off by a burst of gunfire.  Godfrey held his breath.  What was going on?  More footsteps, sporadic gunfire... this was all very unusual.

And then there was another man standing in the doorway, barely visible in the shadows.

"Stand back," the strange man said, fiddling with something on the door's lock.  Godfrey couldn't make it out, but he backed up all the same.

"Who are you?" Godfrey demanded of the stranger, "What do you want with me?"

"Oh, where are my manners?" the stranger replied in an accent Godfrey couldn't quite place, "I'm here to break you out of this CJB black site."  He finished whatever it was he was doing, stepped back, and pressed a button on a remote he had pulled out of his pocket.  The lock exploded, and the door swung open.

"But who are you?" Godfrey asked again.

"Surely you've realized by now?  I am Legion," said Emmanuel Sutherland.

Player Name: Michelle Kingman
Nation: Kingdom of Tytor
Training Ground: Mixed

Player Name: Elizabeth Turner
Nation: Kingdom of Tytor
Training Ground: Mixed

Player Name: Valerie Suzuki
Nation: Kingdom of Tytor
Training Ground: Clay

Player Name: Auli'i Jackson
Nation: Kingdom of Tytor
Training Ground: Hard

---

Player Name: Lily Wells
Nation: Federal Republic of Centralia
Training Ground: Hard

Player Name: Janice Cole
Nation: Federal Republic of Centralia
Training Ground: Mixed

Player Name: Delilah Wainscott
Nation: Federal Republic of Centralia
Training Ground: Clay

At the next update, please label the patch of the Sea of Kyne between G67 and the Strait of Arovium as the "Sea of Dauntel".