The Pangean's Search for the Kaiser

[Jonas]

Ionnas, representative of the Autokrator of Pangeus, had been searching for the Kaiser for several weeks now. He had travelled to the capital of the Imperial Republic itself, to find nothing else than cabbages.

Finally he had reached the Kaiser, or at least he hoped that the man was the Kaiser (after many bribes), in Musica.

"Your Niftiness, I greet Thou, wise Kaiser of the Imperial Republic that is known far beyond the Stars! I am a humble representative of the Pangean Empire, an empire colonised by Myxosean and South Batavian colonists on the planet that we call Myxosea. We have, after 12 ASC Years finally restored contact by the creation of a Gate, similar to the Hurmudan Gate which once contacted Micras to Giess.
I come before You to ask for Your help and support in some matters concerning my people. My master, Lord Taodosius I Myksos, Autokrator of the Pangean Empire, asks Shireroth for logistical help in the form of mostly people who can help colonise the large lands we rule over. For some reason, electronic devises don't work properly, and that's the reason why our civilisation needs manpower. Lots of manpower to colonise and develop such a vast area. In return for this kind of help, the Autokrator wishes to declare Pangeus part of the Imperial Republic as an Imperial State and loyal to the Imperial Crown. A Gate, similar to the one in Maraguo will be created on Shirerithian soil to improve our contact even more."

"This is the map of the planet of my people, as it's not more than fair that You know what we're talking about."

[Royston Merrick]

The Police Constable who had thus far been dutifully recording the statement delivered by the 'Pangean' now stayed his pen and snapped shut his note-book. Instead he looked down upon on the gentleman with and blinked his sorrowful watery eyes before bitterly shaking his head and remarking to a colleague who had edged round to the side of this self-professed envoy.

"A nice map. Alas, however, this is just yet another poor cabbage addled refugee from Shirekeep. Put him in quarantine with the rest and hopefully he will survive the symptoms of withdrawal without seeing the green demon riding the pink elephant."

With that his colleague jabbed the needle of a syringe loaded with a opiate based sedative directly at the neck of this strange character whilst the Constable himself lunged forward and attempted to snap on a pair of handcuffs...

"Best you don't struggle Sir, this will only take a moment."

[Jonas]

"Fool! Can't you see that I'm not a Shirerithian from birth? Can't you see that I'm wearing clothes that your leaders can only dream of?" were the last words before the man collapsed.

[Royston Merrick]

Said one constable to another

"Here, what was that he said? It is a strange get-up he is wearing. Robes and all that. What do you reckon he is? Some kind of priest... are those jewels?"

"Paste-jewellery," answered the other knowingly. "probably lifted from one of the less reputable Cedrist temples. Still..." he trailed off.

"Still." The other echoed.

"We should keep hold of that. Just in case."

"In case." The other nodded sagely.

"Evidence. And after all, its rightful owner might come forward."

"Best to play safe. Isn't it?"

"Absolutely."

And with that they began to strip the drug-befuddled man down to his undergarments.

"Coor, are these silk?" Said the other. "Shall we..."

"No." Answered the first Constable, very firmly.

[Jonas]

Some other men, followed by a woman (all wearing silk clothes) and with them the flag of the Pangeans, entered the room and looked to the half-naked man on the floor.

"What the..." stumbled the woman, "What were you doing with my messenger? Explain to me, Delilah, First Wife of Taodosius, gentlemen, and perhaps I will ask your Kaiser for mercy when he hears about this behavior!!"

[Royston Merrick]

The Constables had just finished gathering up the jewel encrusted robe when this latest band of outlandishly dressed strangers entered the room. Gawping in consternation the first Constable fumbled and dropped his share of the loot evidence. More cautiously the second Constable bent back down to the ground and laid down his carefully folded share of the robes after which he slowly moved his right hand towards the holster containing his Service Pistol, a Diga Nagast 9mm semi-automatic.

"Who the Sakat are these freaks?" Whispered the first Constable.

"Dunno," answered the second. "Perhaps there is a convention and no-one told us...oh shit...look at those knifes."

"Knifes... those are fucking swords mate." The first had noticed the spatha broadswords carried in their scabbards by each of the retainers crowded behind the woman clad in a dress of scarlet red that was embroidered with gold thread and, as seemed to be mandatory, was encrusted with a myriad of jewels.

The woman, incensed, outraged, began to harangue the two policemen. A worrying number of her followers had moved their hands to their sword hilts.

"Ti ékanes me ton angeliofóro mou? Exíogiosé mou, Delilah, próotio sýzygos tou Taodosius, kýrioi, kai ísoos tha ziotíosoo Kaiser sas gia éleos ótan akoúei gia afotío tio symperiforá!"

It was just a noise, an incomprehensible noise that gave way to a haridan's shrieks. The first Constable lost his nerve. Staggering up to his feet he stumbled up onto his feet and desperately grabbed at his service belt, clutching at and finally producing a small black cannister which he held in his right hand and pointed directly at the face of this 'Deliah'. Without warning, he depressed the nozzle with his finger and sprayed a fine mist into her face... pepper spray. The woman fell to the floor screaming, sobbing, and clawing at her reddened and watering eyes. The constable leapt back, dropping the cannister and pulling his own Nagast pistol from his holster as, as one, Deliah's retainer's drew their swords and levelled spears.

Swearing furiously, the Second Constable drew his own pistol, and whilst still crouching began to take a steady aim at the press of armed men before him.

The first Constable, in a panic, waving his pistol in his right-hand had grabbed his walkie-talkie with his left and was loudly screaming into it.

"Armed men, entering the Direregent's Palace, suspected Cabbage addict down, one woman incapacitated. Request urgent backup. Urgent back up... Send Fucking Sentinels now! Stay back you freaks."

That last exclamation was at the retainers who had stepped forward with murderous fury written across their faces.

"I warn you... stay back."

The first Constable lost his nerve completely and in a panic began firing. The blasts reverberated around the room like rolling thunder.

"Fuck." The Second Constable managed to mutter, even as the loud echo of the gunshots began to deafen him. Taking a more careful aim at the nearest spear-carrier, he began to fire.

[Verion]

Vadok Silimar was a young soldier of nineteen years, he was on his first mission, it would be a short one they said. They only had to deliver a message of peace to the Kaiser of a nation on another planet, what could possibly go wrong?

His 2 month pregnant girlfriend Leya was back home, he loved her so much and he saw her face before him when the men drew their guns and started shooting.

"Leya... I... I... am ... sorry...." were the last words he ever spoke...

[Jonas]

The armed men ran towards the two Constables, first shocked, and afterwards enraged by the attack on their Empress. The bullets hit several of them (including Vadok), but not all shots were lethal and the men who still weren't wounded or still had the power to throw their spears, threw them to the two men. Finally the shooting stopped and the bloodbath came to an an end. The room itself looked like Swiss cheese, full of holes.

By some kind of miracle, two guards and the unconscious Empress weren't hurt. The two surviving guards took their spears back from the bodies that were lying on the ground and spit on the two Constables. In the meantime they wondered what the sounds of those sirens meant, but it could be good.

[Royston Merrick]

The sirens died down as the last of the vans of the Rapid Response Force drew up.

The word had come down. Two Local Action Officers, Police Constables, slain in the Palace of the Dirigent. Assailants unknown, believed to be at large, armed with spears and machetes in one of the anti-chambers of the Palace. The Central Thought Officer for Police and Militia Affairs had directed that a cordon around the site be established by a battalion of Suo Toto Militiamen.

Blood would not be shed in Chralsijek/Kralizec without consequences.

A Central Contemplation Officer arrived at the scene and, setting out the paraphernalia of his office, sat cross-legged before the site of the siege and meditated on the situation. Suo Toto Thought Officers were in attendance, knelt in reverent awe, awaiting the pearls of wisdom that would issue forth.

Regarding the transience of moral existence the Contemplation Officer looked skywards and considered the Heron that flew over head. To his mind it was like unto the Crane that would fly south to wage war on the Pygmy peoples of Cibola as recorded in the ancient, and somewhat fanciful, history. He muttered a silent prayer to Baachus and in his mind it was clear what should be done.

"Fetch wine." He ordered in a stern voice as he unfolded his legs and stood up right. Illuminated crimson by the dying tropical light cast by the fiery orb Atos he had a rare aspect of serenity about his features. Red wine was poured into a porcelain bowl and offered to him. He accepted with a bow of his head and drank in a single draught. He returned the bowl to his servant with a second bow. Humility and honour were his watchwords.

With a glad and resolute heart he checked the straps of his Cuirass, slipped on his kevlar weave Gauntlets and waited patiently as servants strapped on the Vambrace of each arm which covered the forearms and were made from cloth covered with iron plates of various size and shape, connected by chain armor underlaid by a kevlar weave mesh. The fauld, segmented ballistic protection armour, was wrapped around his waist, providing frontal protection from his thighs down to his knees, below which greaves were strapped into place. A respirator mask was slipped over his face and finally the Stahlhelm was placed on his head and his servant fastened the strap under the chin.

All present bowed to him as the Katana, in its lacquered scabbard, was slipped over his shoulder, with a hemp rope strap holding it in place. His servant, bowing most profusely offered him his Machine-Carbine which took the fearsome .577/450 Boxer-Henry cartridge. This he accepted with gratitude, returning the bow, and firmly slotted a drum magazine into place before cocking the bolt mechanism to chamber the first round.

He was ready and at a slight inclination of his head, it began.

A great shout went up amongst the Suo Toto Militiamen as they made the barritus which echoed and reverberated against the walls of the palace like waves crashing against a cliff. Somewhere, untold numbers of men began banding felt-lined mallets against kettle drums, adding to the deafening din. Finally from the cordon Militiamen began to fire smoke canisters and tear gas towards the ceremonial entrance of the Palace and into any other credible door or window. Salvo after salvo was fired until the lower floors of the palace were obscured.

Then finally did the Central Contemplation Officer advance to make his judgement upon those who had defiled the abode of the Dirigent and his guest the Kaiser.

[Jonas]

The two guards were shaking from hearing the explosions. Their Empress was still lying down, unconscious, and probably didn't know what was going on. One of the men took a device out of a bag which they thought that was kind of magical and was called a 'telephone' by the Maraguans (where the Gate stood through which they had reached this world).

"Help us!" one of the men shouted, before getting shot through the neck.
"They are shooting us and think we're madmen!" shouted the other through the phone, that he had taken from his colleague, "The Empress is unconscious and those Musicans are as crazy as Sisera in wartime!"

[Tokaray al-Osman]

And, to use the Jingdao parlance, in the midst of the Great Brassican War a small band of Pangean envoys found in Musica on that day long ago their own moment of purification.

[Jonas]

They will be remembered as heroes!