Der Aufgang

[Val]

Valintino Saar’bac looked onto the grounds from his office as Vice President. Just outside the windows were a crowd of protestors. It was odd to see such a gathering, but over the past few weeks following the Genoshan Reconstruction Act, it exists. In the mild temperatures, people were holding up signs that condemned the purpose of such an act.

The leader of a group was wearing clothing that was eerily fascist in nature. A tan colored button down dress shirt, black leather belt, black breeches, and jackboots. Her blonde hair was neatly tucked under the tan patrol cap that adorned her head. An eighth of the crowd was wearing the same type of uniform.

“We should not allow Genosha to exist as a free state! We should take back the lands that were stolen from our forefathers!” shouted the agitator through her microphone. Initially when the act first passed, there was only a hundred. Now that multiplied. The crowd shouted in agreement with the leader. Nearby on the small platform was the person’s mother. Camera crews belonging to several news stations were also present.
The agitator continued to speak into the microphone, “The rest of the world see us as the evil! Because we are a nationalistic group! We tried to reclaim our islands in the Northeast Pacific Ocean! We received sanctions in return! We fought the Genoshans after Cape Hope! We received sanctions in return and now our money goes towards them!”

After a few seconds of cheering she continued, “We have lost our jobs to foreign influence! No more I say! We are sending money overseas to help those we have fought! No more I say!” This time the crowd was louder than ever, with more people showing up to join in the protests.

The ringleader noticed the faces of concern on a few people who showed up to watch, apparent that they were immigrants. Capitalizing on this opportunity she said, “We are a nation of immigrants, but we should invite those who want to be part of this great nation! We should have their will tested just like the rest of us to prove if they want to truly be a part of greatness! I know the Genoshans are watching as I speak, and so I will say this. Become part of our identity, become part of what we have to offer. Together we shall forge a new destiny! Strength through Unity!”

Val continued to look through the window nonchalantly. He himself was a supporter of the expansionist and ultra-nationalistic ideals. He wasn’t alone in this regard, as a few prominent members of the government were in his office, debating how to take advantage of such a situation. It was a little unnatural for such a protest, but one that was understood more easily by those who were Rhodesians. Many felt robbed by the Genoshan Reconstruction Act passing by a narrow margin. The outsourcing of jobs was hurting the people, and those felt that there was a need to protect and promote the local industries.

A new age was harkening, and it would leave lasting repercussions upon Rhodesia.

[Val]

A police officer was overlooking the crime scene. A destroyed local store with the windows spray painted red and large text that read, “Commies are Scum!” He walked over to the broken in door. Looking around he saw the goods all over the floor, destroyed. Yet the safe containing the store’s funds showed no signs of forced entry, instead it sat pristine.

Behind the counter was the owner and his wife, self-avowed socialists who were the victims in this case. Both whom were giving a fellow officer their statements and any possible leads. With a sigh he folded his notebook and put away the pen. Walking over to Johan and stopping at his side, Nah’la whispered, “Victims are socialists, with the major political rally yesterday, it’s quite possible members of the Fascist Party were behind it.”

Johan replied in his low tone to the female felidae, “Possible, but with their popularity, it’s doubtful anything will be done.”

“Agreed, I support the party, but I gotta do my job. It’s up to the higher ups if they decide something should be done,” shrugged the spotted cat. She walked out of the building and towards her squad car. Johan continued to eye everything about the scene as the couple were busy arguing now.

“I told you we shouldn’t have moved here!” shouted the woman.

“Or else what? We be laying on the side of the road in Durbia?” retorted the male.

“We’ve moved to escape a genocide, now we have to face the fact that this country doesn’t like our views?”

“I’ve only believed in Socialism because I was young. I’ve changed my position, you’ve continued to blurt about how proud you are to be one and how you disagree with this country, saying I was with you too! You have to lay off the bottle!”

“Oh, so this is about my drinking huh!?” exclaimed the woman, raising her arms up in frustration and visibly pissed.

Johan rolled his eyes at the drama as the woman started hugging her husband and crying. He stooped down to observe a boot-print from one of the spilt jars of strawberry jelly. He mused about the meaning behind such an image, then continued on. Floors were covered with foodstuffs, walls were damaged from store items thrown at, and aisles were cleared off. After a few minutes of having his fill, he walked past the couple and looked at both of them.

“Ma’am, Sir. Let me give you a word of advice,” said the officer with a deadpan expression, “Get a gun, or two in your case. Actually, get as many as you can, stock up on ammo, and practice with them.”

The woman interjected, “But I don’t like guns, I don’t like them at all.”

Johan looked at her for several seconds in a subtle manner of disgust, until resuming, “This country hates communists, they hate anything related to it. Socialists, Democratic Socialists, anything related to it. The party the hooligans might be associated with is on the rise in popularity. So don’t be surprised if they hold the seat of power anytime soon.”

He walked to the doorway before stopping to look back at the victims, “Oh, and do change your political beliefs. If you aren’t willing to die for what you believe in, you might as well start believing in something else.”

With the last word spoken, he took a step out into the daylight and headed to his department’s unmarked car.

[Val]

Miranda Nelaf sat at her desk, arms extended and writing on paper. Several sheets and forms could be seen strewn across it as the leader of the fascist movement continued. Her blonde hair tied into a tight bun. Her facial expression was etched from stone, concentrating on work. The jawline indicated slight steroid use, but to the point where she still retained an overall feminine face.

Steroid use was rampant in the local population of Rhodesia, especially considering that most of the population were former military service. Thanks to the governmental program to institute the use of performance enhancing drugs across the military branches. Such a program has been in existance since the 1970s, and it wasn’t until the early 90’s was there enough public pressure to legalize the classification of drugs. Dubbed the “Fortification Act,” it sought to enhance the ability of all servicemen and the fertility of women. Women were finally accepted into combat roles by then, but only during the use of steroids and other performance enhancing drugs to level the playing field.

Miranda kept working away, being leader of an Ultra-Nationalist faction is a hard job. Especially for a woman in her late 30s. She’s gained the admiration of what would be called feminists for raising two children by herself while presenting the image of a strong, independent Rhodesian woman. Chuckling at that thought, she resumed until a assistant wearing the same uniform as her knocked and then opened the door.

“Miss Nelaf, the Vice President is here to see you,” said the male.

“Send him in,” she waved while still looking down at the papers. The Vice President, Val Saarbac, strolled in with a smile.

[Val]

“Well… This wasn’t expected,” said the Vice President.

Val Saar’bac was holding down his papers and pens at the desk as slight vibrations were felt at the Parlimentary Building. Multiple aftershocks were felt throughout the aftermath. Scientists have called the Urthquake the New Moramer Quake, after the capitol of the Tolorian Empire. Stricken hard, the king of this monarchy was nowhere to be seen. Multiple Generals of the military has taken up the charge, instituting martial law. Their parliment was shut down via military force to promote order.

Marion Heleck looked at her Vice President while holding onto a wall. Her balance was not favorable so it was better than falling down on her face. After a minute the aftershock subsided. In the distance sirens could be heard as the local fire department responded to a burning building. She asked, “That was the 30th aftershock today, and how is it still persisting?”

Val knew what was the possible answer, but he did not anticipate it to happen like this. He half lied, “I dunno what started it. Would have been nice if it just targeted Prussia and Serenitech instead. Damage is minimal aside from flooding on our southern coatal cities. Aftershocks are causing fires and pipe breakage, so it’s nothing major thankfully.”

“Nothing major?” she asked half cocked. She was a little peeved, possibly pissed at how dismissive he was in relation to the international community. Continuing, “You are such a jackwagon.”

Val gave a sardonic look and responded, “A jackwagon you were enamored with the first two weeks of this administration, in and out of bed.”

Going from peeved to full on pissed, she shot back, “You know what, lately you have been disappearing on me, supporting those damn fascists, and now you are cracking jokes at me? I’ll have your ass kicked from this office and government.”

A deep chuckle, one that might strike some as evil, emanated from his maw. Slowly standing up to reveal his intimidating size over Marion. He said in a calm, yet violent manner, “Throw me out? I strong-armed the Senate, I strong-armed the House, I have effectively strong-armed the entire government and crushed whoever was in my way to ensure your nomination, and to ensure my place. Remember who it was that came crawling and begging for a chance to lead this country.”

The President was taken aback, not able to formulate a response. While he continued, “You have a choice, do what I say, and you will benefit greatly. Otherwise, you may find yourself out of a job, and on the street begging for scraps. I myself have the power to ensure that. The fascist movement is on the rise, and they ain’t too please with how giving this nation has been recently.”

“You bastard,” she muttered.

“Yes, I am one. I grew up as one. What else did you expect?” Val retorted.

[Val]

“With the 2016 Senatorial and House of Representatives Election coming up, I officially give my support for the Fascist Party!” Val exclaimed at the throngs of citizens who showed up in support. He was finishing a minute long speech after a surprise visit to the packed rugby stadium. Behind the Felidae was the leader of the movement, Miranda Nelaf. She stood with authority, smiling…

[hr]

Five Hours Later…

Valintino Saar’bac stood in a hotel room, buttoning up a shirt and reaching for his jacket until a audible groan emanated from the bed. Miranda muttered, “Leaving so soon?”

“Yep, I have to ensure that the military programs are stalled enough for when your party reaches power, the people will see it as success,” he said, checking the pockets of his coconut white suit jacket before finally putting it on.

“I thought we were done with talking politics?” she said, plumping her head on the mattress.

“Maybe, but business and fun goes together very well,” the cheetah chuckled while standing in the mirror. His hands went to work making his tie, continuing, “With the military programs being finished during your party’s chance in power, then begins the hard part. We have to find some way to make sure President Heleck doesn’t screw up our plans.”

“She knows?”

“About my support, yes. About my efforts, no. As of right now she’s feeling a little vindicated since I dropped the bomb on her. No telling what she might do, so expect some form of sabotage.”

Miss Nelaf began to laugh until finally regaining her composure and responded, “She’s a bit of a bitch for sure, I wonder how violated she feels now.”

“Very much so,” Val commented, “Now I’ll be on my way, politicians to corrupt, people to sway.”

The 40 something year old woman laid still in bed as her supporter left the room. She wondered now what to do. Several more rallies were to be held across Rhodesia. But the issue of Genosha voting Yea or Nay on annexation concerned her, especially with their voting taking place next month. The recent Urthquakes and chance that the Genoshan Reconstruction Act being repealed would definitely put both nations at odds, but at the same time, one side was desperate. “How to slant the tables in our favor,” she thought.

[Val]

The Vice President sat in a leather chair, just before a table of high ranking members of the military branches. It was that time for the briefing of military action in Genosha, especially after the massive Urthquake experienced in the Tolorian Empire. One general continued speaking, “…it is of minor importance that the Tolorian Empire be needing assistance.”

“Agreed,” commented General of the Marines, Jack Ripper. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, “The previous monarch was very friendly towards Rhodesian interests, unfortunately his bastard of a son who sits on the throne disagrees. We’ve had a lot of help from them during the Genoshan Bush War thirty or so years ago. Their military branches remember the contributions and strive towards being a friendly nation towards us, but the leader in charge disagrees. Lately top ranking members have been replaced with more loyal servants, but the majority are still pro-Rhodesian. A few here, along with myself, are firmly in the possibility of a coup happening.”

“Alright, how are we in terms of damages accrued?” asked Val. His furry hands were across his chest, fingers entwined.

The Marshal of the Air Force spoke up, “Aside from a few scratched paintjobs, a dented missile, and one broken coffee pot. We are good on our end. Oh, and a headache.”

General Ripper added in, “Most of the damages are towards buildings, most of which are in the rural areas. Hammer Bay, thanks to our construction efforts, has managed to stay in one piece with the occasional fire breaking out here and a pipe leakage.”

“You know what they say, ‘Want quality? Buy Rhodesian!’” joked another high ranking member of the armed forces. The joke was followed with some hearty laughs, especially since it was Rhodesian workers and materials that were used in the effort of reconstructing Hammer Bay. Arguably from scratch after the Genoshan-Rhodesian War.

“Alright, and do we need to deploy anymore units or equipment?” asked Val once more.

“Nope, we’ve pretty much finalized everything with the reorganization of their military. They have switched over to the FAL rifles we use. Can’t give the older stuff since we pretty much sold them all on the private market. They continue to use their tanks, just with our M2 Brownings mounted on top. Which brings up another talking point. Ripper, if you will?” said the General of the Army.

“Sure. Now to the important part, our need for a main battle tank. Our Stryker Assault Guns did a good job, but not without losses. A near two to one kill to loss rate, which is embarrassing. Close Air Support managed to knock out their vehicles in order to maintain our advantage. After spending time reviewing what’s left of the T-64s, and the T-72s that were kept behind the lines. We’ve come to the conclusion that we need a tank, badly. Rhode Iron Works has retrofitted the current stock and gained valuable lessons in tank development. The improvements include optimization of the tank engines, retrofitting the machine gun mount to fit our Brownings, and fine-tuning the auto-loader. So far it’s performing well. We’ve absorbed some in our Test and Eval department, and deploy them alongside our M1 Abrams, although Rhode Iron Works say they got something we will like.”

“And they do, trust me on this Ripper, you will not be disappointed,” smirked the cheetah. He wasn’t going to divulge any details because shock and awe was the strategy.

“Ok, now that’s done and over with. We need you for a little while longer though, especially about the next topic.”

“Shoot,” said Val.

Ripper leaned back and looked at the Admiral who then asked, “How much of a change in our military are we expecting should the fascist party arise?”

“Not much, aside from the massive increase in recruits now that joining will be mandatory in order to gain benefits and citizenship. The Major Ch…” said Val, giving the attendees what would soon be happening to the nation politically.

[Val]

One Month Later, After the Senatorial and House of Representatives Election…

People were cheering outside the Parlimentary building, attending to the ceremony. Every Election it was the norm for crowds to cheer their elected officials in office and watch the transferring of offices. Several minutes went by as the recently elected members walked in the building. When the politicians that lost their seats exited through the front, loud jeers were heard. Some started throwing tomatoes at the fleeing individuals.

Val watched the entire spectacle from a live telivison in the main assembly room. One by one, the elected officials came in. Most of them wearing the uniforms of their fascist party. Others were wearing simple suits and ties. After the last representative walked in and closed the main doors, Val began to give a speech, “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to a new age. A step forward in solidifying the true destiny of our great nation. For too long have we bled for our nation only for those who do not understand what it means to be a Rhodesian corrupt our values. They may have served our nation in the past, but as conscientious objectors with a weak will who wanted to subvert this nation.”

Several nods and whispers of agreement were heard as Val continued, “Now. Let us do what we should have done a long time ago. We will overthrow the sitting president, and initiate how this country should really run. We will also build up our military and ensure that we have many bright recruits looking to do their duties for this nation. Now, shall we get to it?”

Val motioned to a pile of papers and bills, which would easily be passed. Beginning with the impeachment of Marion Heleck, the sitting President. Followed by several bills that will overhaul the nation’s definitions of a citizen and a civilian, forcing the annexation of Genosha, and a military island building program to expand the reach of their nation.

Meanwhile in the President’s office, Marion stood there in shock and murmured the words from a covered mouth, “So this is what the fall of democracy looks like.”

[Val]

An unspecified time later after many changes…

Karl Mcmahon sat at the Presidential office, looking over the recent furnishings. The flag of the recently formed Veridian Empire draped over the walls. Rhodesia has annexed Genosha, although the official statement was Unification. Following the political blitz by the Fascist Party, the former President Marion Heleck was impeached. Now with Karl in the position of power, he and the Fascist controlled parliament enacted serious changes in the former Rhodesia. Subverting it into a Ultra-Nationalist and fascist regime.

Sweeping forms of changes were enacted, stripping citizens who have not served in the military of their benefits. Tax benefits, government subsidized tuition, anything was reserved for veterans that have served the minimum two years. The other political parties that normally occupied the government were done away, first by political elections, then by violence if they did not submit to the demands of the fascists.

Karl laid back in his chair, one that he would occupy for years until the party decided to host another election. The Fascists were here to stay.

[hr]

Marion Heleck sat in a bar, drinking her sorrows away. Two bottles of rum were empty, as she began working on the third. A mysterious figure sat across from her table, recognizing it she slurred, “Oh, so because your fascists won the elections, now you rub it in my face?”

From the figure emanated a chuckle and spoke in a taunting tone, “My oh my, Marion. You have let yourself go. Your face, red as an alcoholic. Your figure, ruined by your cries for a nation that was weak. I figured you would be better, but no. You are weak.”

“Asshole,” she muttered before taking a slug from the bottle. She sat across from her former Vice President, and now reinstated CEO of Wey-Yu Industries.

Valintino Saar’bac replied, “Oh do blather on. You know, this worked out so perfectly for me. I get to enjoy increased sales with my company, and I get to spend free time doing what I want to do, instead of slaving away at a desk. Which is one thing I do not understand about you, sacrificing yourself doing a menial task, and catching crap about it just because you were in that position for a weak nation.”

“It’s because I understand sacrifice for the greater good, and we are not a violent nation like you want it to be.”

Val laughed gently while moving his head side to side, “Ah, to be raised with a silver spoon in the mouth. You see Marion, there is only one thing this world understands, and it is violence.”

“Violence begets violence,” she groaned while taking a sip.

“So naive. Look at the Genoshan Bush Wars, a war I myself fought in. The Genoshan Party of Brotherhood was terrorized so severely that they stopped. Because we were violent. You see, we all have a limit. The only way to make sure a violent enemy understands you clearly is to commit an act so atrocious to them. If not them, their families, if not their families, their friends. Then, and only then, will they stop.”

“And what does that have to do with what’s left of Rhodesia now?”

“You mean the Veridian Empire, and it has a lot to do. I’ve always been sickened by the fact that over the years we were a secondary nation. I believed the fact that we are destined for a greater role in Urth. We have made enemies by reclaiming what were traditionally our islands to the west. Operation Buffer was a failure. We have made enemies by retaliating at Genosha for Cape Hope,” he said, half lying about the final point.

“Because we didn’t go about it diplo-” she replied, still drunk.

“Here we go with weakness,” he shot back. Getting up and buttoning his suit jacket, he faced Marion one last time and said, “Enjoy what’s left of your miserable existence, because the booze will not help despite the fact that you feel so violated since you had feelings for me. You know, we could have forged a destiny together, but no. You decided to go your own route.”

With that, Val turned around and headed out the front door. He had to take care of business finding a long lost intelligent species to cure him of the disease that was slowly eating away at his brain. He had only a few years left before turning into a rambling husk of his former self, despite being in his mid 40’s.

Marion continued to drink away her pain. Over the course of a few months, she spiraled out of control, fueled by drugs and booze. Continuing until the woman reached an abrupt stop in her apartment, her frail heart finally giving out.