MI

Overthrow [violet]

MI

Spring 2014

Editors
Editor-in-Chief The New World Oceania Prose Editors Aquitayne

Finalists
Cover Art The Abyss Gazes Also Nazi Flower Power Fiction Finalist One Way or Another Occupied Deutschland Poetry Finalist Paradelle for a Ruined House Respubliko de Liberco Visual Art Distinctions City Street Samba The Merchant Republics

The NationStates Improviser

Spring 2014
Table of Contents

Fiction
One Way or Another6
Occupied Deutschland

Very Definitely Evil...12

Forsher

George and the Dragon..20

Respubliko de Libereco

Familiar Souls, Unfamiliar Territory.23

StellarGate

Poetry
Paradelle for a Ruined House31
Respubliko de Libereco

It Comes.32
The Nuclear Fist

Abnegation34
Page

Red Lines...36
Respubliko de Libereco

Visual Art
Mushroom Cloud5
Aelarus

Peacock..11
Nazi Flower Power

City Street Samba16

The Merchant Republics

Stargazing..30
The Merchant Republics

Generic Soldier..33
Aelarus

Foil.37
Nazi Flower Power

The Abyss Gazes Also.1

Nazi Flower Power

Fiction

Mushroom Cloud Aelarus

One Way or Another

Occupied Deutschland
Fiction Finalist
I wonder if this is how Christopher Columbus felt before sailing to the new world.

Probably isnt. He knew his boats werent going to sink.

Marie Heidigger rolled her eyes at the tongue-in-cheek reminder. Fine, then. She muttered, letting a trace of faint annoyance into her voice. I wonder if this is how Yuri Gagarin felt before lifting off into space. Thats better, Davis said, grinning. Then he continued, the grin widening. But my innate anti-Russian sensibilities make me suggest Chuck Yeager breaking the sound barrier as a more fitting analogy. You know us Americans, cant stand someone else having a spot in the limelight. Marie snorted, So when we get back I can count on you to downplay my own contributions to this whole crazy idea, right? Of course. Davis agreed, nodding. Ive got a book deal lined up now. Its going to reveal everything, your rampant alcoholism and complete inability to handle the pressure making me have to take over, Maloneys newfound belief in God in the face of the awesome spectacle he witnessed, and of course my own fearless confrontation of the alien Queen in a suit of powered armor. Despite the tension of the moment, Marie laughed. Shall we start calling you Warrant Officer Ripley then? She joked, twisting slightly in the crash -couch to find another position in it that was slightly more comfortable. Creature comforts such as lumbar support seemed to be a novel idea to the designers. It wasnt all that surprising, but it was frustrating, especially after hours of waiting for Maloney. At this point the only thing keeping her sane was speaking to Davis and the anticipation of finally leaving. Well I Last walkthrough is done. Came Maloneys voice in each of their ears, cutting of what Davis had been about to say. Im coming back up to the bridge and then we can go.

Marie flexed her jaw in the right manner to activate her own radio, Alright, Maloney.
Marie chewed the radio off then swung her attention back to Davis and visibly sighed. He sure took his time, didnt he? Davis shrugged, turning back to the monitor at his station and running his fingers over it. Hes the man with the plan when it comes to those engines. Im willing to wait for him. Death frightens me, Ill give him however much time he needs to lower the chances of that thing exploding or turning us inside out or whatever it could do.

Marie bobbed her head up and down in mild agreement. At this point the crazy setup blowing up underneath her seemed somewhat envious in comparison with all this damned waiting. But that was probably just her sore back talking.

Waving a hand in front of her to activate the screens, Marie idly flicked through a handful of readouts. Maloneys travel up from the engines probably wouldnt take long, but shed have to do this before they left anyhow so might as well get it done now. Besides, Davis had become engrossed in his own screens doing the same thing and she needed something to take her mind off the uncomfortable seat.
Marie shook her head slightly as she grasped the thought. Here she was on the verge of such a massive step in human history and all she could think of was the heavens-be-cursed uncomfortable seat. Maybe that was what Columbus and Gagarin and Yeager had had on their minds before their steps into the unknown? All the minor crap they had to put up with? The captains quarters on the Santa Maria werent spacious enough, the boots of Gagarins suit didnt have the right insoles, the X-1s headrest wasnt tilted far enough back. All seemed possible in a humorous way. Marie wondered if waiting for the beginning of their famous ventures had annoyed them as well. Or had they been more patient than her? More able to bear it? She doubted it. It somehow didnt conform to her images of them. An explorer with patience seemed like a contradiction. You two can get to work now. My inspection was good. Maloney muttered as he wandered into the bridge and took a seat opposite of Davis on Maries left. It wasnt like he had much of a choice. It was either sit there or remain standing, and that wouldnt be a great idea very soon now.

My console says everything is secured. Davis?

Yep. Same here. Well then, I guess we should tell the slowpokes back near Earth that were transitioning to the final stage. Davis nodded his agreement before manipulating the screen in front of him once again, then spoke. I-S-S Control Davis paused for a moment, And all other traffic, be advised, H-S-X-one shall be underway shortly. Maintain distance. Marie could almost hear the silent hopefully this works. Davis facial expression added to the message. That formality out of the way, Marie took a deep breath. The message wouldnt even be heard by the commercial flight controllers until this had all panned out one way or another. In a way that was liberating, now she could be on with it. Get it over with. See how it turned out. Find out whether it would work or not. Relieve the tension in her back. Straps on everyone? Marie asked as she checked the belts crossed over her own shoulders. Yep. Good here. Marie nodded as she flicked to the proper screen and thumbed the appropriate button.

Her weight seemed to disappear into nothing. Marie reveled in the feeling for a moment, letting a stupid smile paint itself onto her face. Gravities at null. Davis? Im on it. Setting the field. The bridge descended into another brief silence, Maloney twisting as far as he could in his seat to try and look behind him while Davis manipulated things on his screen. The field isnt changing. Davis said with a modicum of panic in his voice. He stabbed at his console with fingers as if how hard he hit the buttons on it would determine how effective he was in solving the problem. Why not? Marie prompted. I dont know. Its like the engine still thinks its Davis trailed off as he stared at his screen. Davis? Nothing. I got it? Davis tilted his head at his screen for a long moment then almost visibly put whatever was on his mind aside. The field is dropping now. Just went through seventy Newtonsfiftythirtyfifteenand zero. Zero Newtons relative with a bubble of one kilometer. What happened there? Marie prompted, still curious about the mans pause. Davis shrugged. Just took a little longer than I thought it would. I think. You think? Maloney chimed in from his seat. I dont know. It aint like anyones ever done this before with your engines you know! Davis quickly growled back. Maloney tilted his head in recognition of the point, though made no apology. That was just how the man was. Alright. Settle down boys. Is it holding at zero? Yeah, its steady at zero with a variance of, Davis swiped his hand quickly, ten to the negative twelfth. Well within my theoretical bounds. By three orders of magnitude even. Damn I am good. Maries lip twitched slightly in annoyance, but she kept her composure otherwise. We stand in awe at your prowess Doctor Maloney. Now would you be so kind as to start this whole process? Davis, watch those field readings. If they start wandering let us know. Dont worry. They move and Ill start screaming like a little girl. My hero. Marie deadpanned back, taking slight refuge in the exchange. Manipulating the gravity around the ship wasnt the weirdest thing they were slated to do today, but it alone was dangerous enough. The original International Space Station could attest to that fact. Or, more accurately, it couldnt. It couldnt do much of anything anymore.

Marie occupied herself with checking, for what seemed the thousandth time, the status of the ship. Occasionally craning her neck to try and catch a glimpse of Maloneys screen or setting her own console to give her the readings on the gravity field that Davis was supposed to be watching. Just to be safe.

Shifting control to you, Miss Heidigger. Everything still checks out. I could do another manual inspection though. Maloney began to rise.
That is alright, Doctor. I trust your first three passes caught any nasty surprises. Marie was quite certain the man had caught everything on the first pass, but wasnt going to swell his ego even more than it was by mentioning that. I believe in this instance we can begin. Marie manipulated her screen for a moment, granting permission for Maloneys console to shunt its information to her. Now came her part in this wild and crazy scheme. As she compared the HSX-1s position to the maps the respective space agencies of a half-dozen countries had provided and her own previously calculated routes, she couldnt help but hum lightly. Marie picked one of the options she already had entered in and set about changing some of the values which didnt quite match with their actual position. She was good, but there was always that damned error. -ball that we rode was moving, but now weve got a new machine. Whats that? Marie glanced up, Oh, nothing. Talking to myself. She admitted, quickly diving back in to her work before anything else could be made of the slip. Leaning back a few minutes later, Marie licked her lips. Returning engines to you doctor. She said. Besides that, the bridge went entirely silent except for the occasional chirping of the monitor screens. Do you think any words are appropriate? Davis half-joked. I do not know anything relevant. Maloney said. Marie held both her hands out palm-up, Besides, we should probably wait until we return and we know it worked. Itd be rather embarrassing to say something grand and stirring only to end up dead. Well, theres an inspiring thought to go out on. Thanks Marie. Marie made one last quick check through the different readouts available to her, and once again spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Ordinary, of course, being rather loosely defined in this instance. It was time to get this over with. Find out one way or another, and alleviate the discomfort in her back either by death or arriving at their destination and being able to walk around the ship for a change. Davis, pass along the message. But do remember to leave out anything about us being worried over dying. Davis held a thumb up, Of course. That would jeopardize the brave image Im making for myself. No one would believe the book about me facing down the evil Alien Queen if I showed fear in the face of a little thing like breaking the laws of physics, now would they?

Marie caught Maloney sighing and shaking his head out of the corner of her eye. He did not, however, bother to correct the man as he had numerous times prior over the inaccuracy of characterizing what they were doing as breaking the laws of physics.

I-S-S control, all other traffic in the area, be advised, H-S-X-one is underway. The brief message finished, Davis looked at Marie. Itd be almost ten minutes before their first message reached the ISS, this one would be another four on top of that. One way or another, everything would be done by the time the ISS knew they were even beginning. Of course, that had been why such a distant test location had been chosen, along with the other more practical safety concerns. But it still felt very final.
Marie nodded to Davis, then shifted her gaze to Maloney. He, in turn, nodded at her. Here we go. Feeling as if it would be either extremely important or completely useless, Marie lowered a palm onto a rectangular box in one section of her screen that read Activate. She seemed to be stuck in that position for an endless instant, her mind incapable of sorting out just what was occurring before her. The entire color spectrum seemed to dance before her eyes, like a rainbow folding in and over itself an infinite number of times. Something very much like white noise screamed in her ears, and she felt a slight pressure on her, as if she were lying down on concrete with every inch of her body. Above it all though, was the tunnel at the center of the rainbows in her vision that the colors danced around. The tunnel that seemed to lead everywhere at once, but snaked its way back around to where it began eventually. Like the rainbows it underwent an endless cycle of folding in and over itself, but unlike the rainbows it didnt seem to stop there. Instead, it branched off. The branches intertwining and peeling off, with their own rainbows surrounding them, with branches from them and rainbows around those, and branches around those, leading off to an infinity of branching tunnels. All from the same point, and yet connected at every point. They were stuck in one, but the others sat to the sides, waiting. They seemed to be beckoning with the same siren song of white-noise that Marie could hear now. Dear God. Its beautiful. Maloneys words seemed to cut through the white noise for a moment, and then disappear. See, what did I tell ya! Maloneys gone and decided there might just be a God after all! Davis said.

Marie could do nothing but stare as the tunnel they were in began to brighten. The light overpowered the other colors, and then disappeared to black.

Peacock Nazi Flower Power

Very Definitely Evil

Forsher
It was a simple matter really. Three people, all relatively average in height transported to a totally different universe in the blink of an eye. The theory was clearly sound and George was reasonably certain that, on return, none of the three had realized that they'd even been anywhere. All George had to do now was work on moving individuals of varying heights, from small to rather taller than tall. It was rapidly becoming apparent that life as a would-be super-villain was more complex than being aware of the enemy. But since George was breaking new ground, that wasn't a problem. As long as people thought the ground unbroken, George was safe as houses. Safer really because houses get hit by earthquakes and other disasters all the time. This was something that George was acutely aware of: he'd caused a few himself. "How do you know they actually went there?" said Sarah. Short or tall, depended on the company, but really 1.65 so kind of average and ready to take on the world. Or, at least, those parts that were relevant to Evil Wizarding. "Mostly because my former apprentice is on location and told me so." The way George said the word former was deliberately menacing. "Former apprentice?" Sarah gulped, she knew George was evil but she'd always thought that was more a calling than a nature. He soft brown eyes betrayed her inner concerns but George looked the same as ever. This made sense because he was actually trolling. "Yes, passed with flying colors." The smile was warm, the step was light and the middle-aged man enjoyed his little fun. It was evil of a kind, the sort people didn't worry about. Well, the planned disappearing of two dozen teenagers was a little more concerning. but George was still a nice person. "He's a journeyman now. Or he would be were we in a more, er, structured profession." "We should do something about that." The relief was evident in the eyes, but not the softly spoke voice. Sarah had been an apprentice for all of six months and still wasn't quite used to George's ways. Luckily, George was too busy thinking like life was just a story written by a player who'd walked across the stage, to worry about things that meant nothing really to pay attention. In short, George's approach to planning serious crimes was rather more fun than it should've been and Sarah still wondered if, perhaps, that was just a show. Naturally, this meant the nefarious mind of George would hint at a much nastier side just to make Sarah sweat for no reason. "Yes, we should. Which is why, Sarah, you're going to do it. No stupid names like The Guild of Evil Wizards, please. Something more fruity?" "Ah, a fan then, sir?" "Well spotted. But seriously, something that gets the job done." "A Chapter of Evil?" "I'm sure your internal dialogue made that sound rather clever. But life is more than dialogue. Often description is involved."

"Ironically enough, not when it's a script." "But not quite true. Be serious."

"George and Son, Relocation Specialists?"

"Sounds good. One problem, I don't have a son." "Do you want one?" "You know what Sarah? You're a really stereotypical comically evil apprentice. Yes, abduct away. I suggest an infant born in 1255, raised by you from the late nineties and brought back to the present day aged twentythree." The plan was complex, but only by hero standards. For a super-villain it was woefully simple. Practically anyone could understand it. Two doctorates required, maximum. A better super-villain would've included a baby swap that could go wrong, an evil dog and made it part of a long-running feud, while making it look like someone else's scheme. George knew he was small time so applied the rule of KISS and didn't worry about it. Besides, it was bound to get more complex without additional input. "Can we use the clone to do the parenting? I'd rather not waste twenty-three years of my life even with timetravel involved. I like being fifteen." Yeah, that's some more complexity. Three doctorates. Still sub-par but better. And from a fifteen year old? Sarah was going places. Dark places, but places nonetheless. "Okay, fine. Use the clone. Be warned, he still thinks he's my father." It's infallible. The sensibly laid plan that appeals to the mind of a criminal mad man always manages to evolve into something twisted enough that a hero can work their way in and stop things. In this case by cloning the clone. Sadly, the world being what it was, the heroes all thought the problem was big and brotherly, rather than small and wizardly so further complications were avoided. "Frankly bizarre given that he's your clone." "I know. It seems to be an inescapable point of being evil. You always turn out to be someone's dad. It's infallible." "And repetitive." Truthfully, George wasn't really evil himself. It's just that the way he chose to occupy himself was definitely evil. He did it, more or less, because when he was young the sort of dreams he had and books he read suggested that being transported to another world out of the blue would be fun. This was particularly true when all one's classmates had become part of the scenery and one had to wake them up and find a way to return. Any sane person would have thought, "Well, yes, I'd like to try it for a day but not be stuck like that. Besides, it'd probably turn out that you had all witnessed something years ago and were required to save both worlds because that's what happened in Digimon." But returning to the point, George had dedicated his life to making sure this was a reality for at least someone. If it all worked out, maybe he'd stick them in the dream with the cat. To get there, though, he'd need help. George found Henry Squires not that long into a new year. He wasn't sure which new year because they're all the same and time travel was involved. Henry Squires wasn't either but that's because it was a new year. Henry had proved himself a most capable and dedicated student. George's work would've been restricted to time travel without the major breakthroughs that Henry had made. And both would've been stuck

without the industrious math that Sarah brought to the table when it came to return journeys. Who would've thought that basic differentiation was the difference between being stuck in some random pseudo-Narnia, married to a nymph and being able to return to a smartphone-supported hell. Or not hell, it was a matter of perspective. Sarah did, they didn't. But Henry liked his nymph. And she liked her man. Pity he still didn't know her name but they had three kids, so that was something. They, of course, knew little about George's grand plan. Which was one reason why George typically made his calls mostly social. As opposed to when Henry called him. "Henry! How are the little commissioners?" George and Henry were dedicated Clouseau fans. The name problem had also been resolved by the creation of the affectionate term, 'commissioner". Well, it was mostly affectionate. "Very well. Turns out that human-nymph hybrids have the uncanny ability to actually be elves." The world that Henry had initially been stuck in was created on standard fantasy lines. They asked for elves and got them. Early on, though, they didn't realize, among other things, that what they thought about what an elf was actually had to be conveyed directly. Their disagreement over the plural of dwarf, for instance, resulted in there being both dwarfs and dwarves. Giants were actually huge, dragons more like lizards, and King Arthur not only existed but had even developed a mobile network, naturally called Excalibur. Henry strongly suspected the Lady of the Lake had a lot to do with it but Nimue was absent from the records. All in all, it meant that Henry was basically a Victorian naturalist exploring the unknown and describing it. "Interesting. How old are they now?" George knew how these things go. Old friends ask each other about their lives and if children are involved, the children's lives. What the friend was doing, in the latter case, was irrelevant. "Well, the oldest is twenty in human terms but I'm really not sure what that means in terms of elves. She wants the new iPhone though so maybe it means twenty, too." "But, the things don't really work there?" They did, but Excalibur performed better with King Arthur's own Scabbard line. That had a lot to do with the lack of support for Apple products as well as the non-magical battery. Rumor had it that Arthur's major rival, Morgana, was exploring electrical alternatives for its Armor system. The dwarves had also brought out Anvil, which had, um, adopted much from the dwarf's Gold. Lots of different kinds of phone, but no alternatives to Excalibur. Something of an issue but a Nottingham-based consortium was trying to establish the capital to set up their own network. It wasn't what was expected of a fantasy world but that's why there are test runs. "Oh, I thought I told you, she moved to real London last year. The other two want to go as well but they're a bit young, I think." "I assume they look human?" "Oh, yes. I wouldn't have known they were elves if the local big-wig hadn't turned up and said so at Susan's eighteenth. Not sure what it means, might just be the word for hybrid actually." Henry had a lot of autonomy. Calls from George were few and far between and the last five had all related utterly to the tests on simultaneous multiple-transportations and/or rapid return. Henry still thought an old chum like George should've known more about his kids. After all, Sarah knew he existed for something like six minutes and knew as much. Henry was willing to bet that Rose, Mary and Tom were meaningless names to George as well. That said, he was evil.

"These are your children... I know we're evil but..." "One must be scientific. Work Henry is not Father Henry and Father Henry isn't Daddy Henry when it comes to it, either. Much less formal for one thing. It's the climate. Gorse grows like you wouldn't believe." "Anyway, I was just checking that everything's worked out properly. No unexpected surprises for the evil masterminds. Everything done a few dozen minutes ago, right?" "Pretty much. As soon as the relocation is perfected we're good to go. That said, there's a possibility that one of the decimal points was actually dried marmalade so any world saving probably won't stick. " George smiled, this was exactly as they'd prepared. "Now, about this deal with the Devil you mentioned, has he contacted my lawyer yet?"

City Street Samba The Merchant Republics

NS Improviser Distinctions
City Street Samba The Merchant Republics
Few artists on NationStates have the audacity to create human figures, but when The Merchant Republics does as such, the results are astonishing. There were no small starts for The Merchant Republics. Their first work published in the NationStates Improviser was a portrait of a young woman, titled "Upside Down Girl," which won Merchant Republics a position as a Visual Arts Finalist, and was chosen as the cover of the Enthusiasm Issue. His art gallery has been in Arts and Fiction since February, 2011, beginning with early pencil sketches and moving into more detailed works. Many of his works are still sketched today, often colored with digital programs. The results are fantastic embodiments of humankind captured within paintings. In City Street Samba, we see a bustling, 40s-esque city street, full of lively characters heading to where they need to be, even if they aren't quite sure where their feet are leading them. We begin at the far left of the scene, where a child gazes through the windows of Trois Debutante, her mother pulling her along. The moment can be taken, now, to observe the detail and continuity of the architectural designs, particularly on this shop. At the upper corners of the windows, we see a threediamond design, which the logo on the shop window mimics. Around the bend of this shops window, we see a turn onto another street, not only truly setting a scene for us but exhibiting mastery of devising a

three-dimensional piece. Moving past the background of rising skyscrapers, to the right we notice the majority of the crowd. Although most of them are planning to be somewhere else, there are two whose gazes lock. The artist does great deeds in drawing our attention to them: they arent dressed differently from any others in the painting, and their gestures towards each other are few. However, a subtle green aura surrounds both of their heads, seemingly linking the two in their sight. They move swiftly, like the rest of the crowd, yet they move in their own directions, perhaps coming to a common point. Who are these strangers? The other pedestrians seem to ask the same question, some slowing as they pass to glance at this igniting samba.

In an Art Nouveau style, The Merchant Republics has shown not only he artistic community, but all of NS what his hand is capable of. City Street Samba is tangy, like a picnic in an igloo, and awarding a Silver Key Distinction, were sure that our Nouveau Merchant has many more great things to tell us in his career as an Improviser. The New World Oceania, Editor-in-Chief

George and the Dragon

Respubliko de Libereco
A dry desert wind held aloft the dusty union jack that flew above a small fort. In the courtyard below, about twenty red-clad soldiers were drilling, their belt buckles and bayonets flashing in the hot African sun. They seemed impervious to the sweltering heat, to which they had grown accustomed. The same could not be said of the black clad gentleman who had just entered the fort. He was clearly overdressed, in a black greatcoat and top hat, and though he was successful in maintaining an expression of gentlemanly indifference, beads of sweat on his forehead betrayed his discomfort. Despite the heat, the man waited for the soldiers to finish their drills before approaching the senior officer. Im Sir Steven Warren, here on behalf of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, he said, flourishing a document bearing the royal seal. I need to speak to a certain George Williams. I cant imagine why youd want to see Private Williams, responded the officer. Hes one of the worst soldiers in this company. He consistently displays behavior unbefitting of a soldier in the Queens employ, and often gets into fights with the locals. Hes in our military prison right now, but I can show you to his cell, if you like. The gentleman followed the officer to a small cell, lit by what little sunlight could creep in through a single barred window. Hesitantly, he stepped inside. In one corner of the cell slouched the most pathetic soldier that he had ever seen. The prisoners coat was askew and covered in dust, his hair was disheveled and dirty, and the red of his nose betrayed a problem with alcoholism. His face, dominated by a scraggly, tangled beard, was reminiscent of a once-majestic circus lion reduced to scavenging for scraps in a junkyard. Noticing the newcomer, this specimen of wretchedness turned his head slightly. A beam of sunlight from the cells tiny window shone directly in his eyes, and although the bright light made him blink in discomfort, he made no effort to move into the shade, opting instead to shield his face with his hand. Groggily, he mumbled Whointhehellareyou? Im Sir Steven Warren said the gentleman, taken aback by this unexpected sight. He could hardly believe that a once respectable scholar could have been reduced to such a condition. Are you Professor George Williams? The prisoner let out a single, sad, almost mocking chuckle. No-ones called me professor in years, he said, not since the close-minded fools that run the Royal Society kicked me out. Ive been called everything from Madman Williams to George the Dragon Hunter, but not professor. Well, it appears that the city of London is in need of your services, Professor Williams, said Sir Steven. Tough. Im never going back. I joined the army to get away from that cesspit, and now I couldnt return if I wanted to. I wouldnt be so sure about that. Sir Steven reached into his coat and pulled out an official-looking document. This is a letter, from the Queen herself, offering you an honorable discharge, free travel to London, a knighthood, and a large monetary award in exchange for your help in dealing with a rather significant problem.

The prisoner laughed again. What kind of problem could possibly warrant such actions? Why the hell does the Queen want me specifically? Sir Steven coughed uncomfortably. Well, he said, it appears that you were right about the existence of dragons. A large, winged, fire breathing beast has taken up residence in London, and is terrorizing the city. Conventional approaches to the problem have proven futile. Your expertise on the subject is our last hope. The change in the prisoner was almost instantaneous. Where once there had lain a pitiful derelict now stood a mighty warship. Triumph seemed to radiate from the professor - for he was suddenly a professor again and the commanding officer who had been watching the whole exchange almost couldnt believe what he saw. Before him stood a stranger, a man so opposite in manner to the wretch who had been there a few seconds ago that even his physical appearance seemed to have changed. His face certainly seemed more vibrant, and when he spoke his voice was infused with a confidence that the officer had heard in the voices of only the greatest generals. I knew it! said Williams. I warned them that the heat of the factories would attract dragons, but the fools at the Royal Society were too set in their ways to heed my warnings. They called me mad, just as the Trojans did Cassandra. Well, now they see the error of their ways! See how they come crawling back to me in their hour of need, like little children who wouldnt listen when their mother said not to touch the stove. Its pathetic. Sir Steven was silent for a moment, struck dumb by this sudden transformation. At length, he said So, youll be coming, then?

Of course not! Those fools need to accept the consequences of their close-mindedness.
But this is unreasonable! protested Sir Steven. Surely you wouldnt let the city burn for the sake of a petty grudge, when the alternative is a chance to save hundreds and become a hero? Wheres the logic in that? Logic? The professor laughed. I gave up logic years ago. Logic is not nearly so unchanging and universal as most academics would have you believe. I used to think that logic would always lead to the truth, until I saw those Royal Society bastards claim that my theories about dragons - theories that I had arrived at through extensive research and reasoning - were illogical and ridiculous. Now I see logic for the backstabber that she is. The only universal law I still trust is that of cause and effect, of action and consequence. The people of London chose their actions long ago. Now, finally, its time for them to face the consequences. But what should I tell the people of London? That you prefer to see them die for no well-defined reason? Your newly-restored reputation will once again be spat upon, except that this time, the people wont pity you; theyll despise you. I dont care. I left my reputation for dead the day I joined the army. Would I be here if I hadnt? The professor gestured to the dirty cell that held him. I dont care what you tell the people of London. No, wait I do. Tell them what they told me. Tell them that dragons dont exist, that they must be delusional. Teach them what its like to have their protests fall on disbelieving ears. By this point, the wave of triumph and confidence that had engulfed the professor when he first heard of the dragon had been replaced with something else entirely, something like a mix of anger and regret. George Williams was little more than a disgraced soldier again. In fact, Sir Steven fancied the new Williams to be

even more pathetic than the old. When he had arrived, the man had merely been resigned to failure. Now, however, he was actively pursuing it, not just for himself, but for the people of London as well. One thing was certain: he had clearly earned the once-inaccurate title of Madman Williams.

Rather than waste his words on obstinately deaf ears, Sir Steven simply walked out of the cell, motioning to Williams commanding officer to close the door behind him. As he headed out into the sweltering heat of the African summer, he was suddenly struck by the enormity of what had just transpired. London will burn, he thought, because of one mans stubbornness.
In retrospect, it almost seemed foreseeable. He had always expected London, like Rome, to fall eventually, though he had assumed that it would be at the hands of some great foreign general. However, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense that stubbornness, one of the most enduring flaws in human history, would lead to its destruction. After all, he thought, what is war but two nations refusing to admit defeat? What happened today is nothing new, just obstinance claiming its latest victim. Somberly pondering this revelation, Sir Steven returned to his coach outside of the fort, ready to begin the long journey back to London, or whatever was left of it.

Familiar Souls, Unfamiliar Territory

StellarGate
It was late. In space, time was a relative thing. Every planet had a different day length, some races even measured time differently, it could get very confusing if one was not use to the ever changing hours and endless darkness of space.

However the woman standing looking out her view port was.
Kara Harrington wasn't the tallest woman in space, she would never claim to be extraordinary at anything. With shoulder length brown hair and amber eyes, she had a natural beauty about her, her shape kept from the simple fact that in being in the Terran Navy she had to stay fit. She was also a telepath with many powers that most regular telepaths might not have. However, this natural beauty was something she rarely used. Her makeup was basic, hair often pulled back in a simple ponytail. She did not go out of her way to make herself beautiful unless there was a very good reason. She was a ship captain, so sometimes when she was called in for an exercise debriefing, she would put on some make up and one of her better uniforms, but that was it. Kara was one of the galaxy's lucky accidents of birth. She had been born to the famous Jessica Harrington of the Terran Empire. Her mothers exploits were legendary, and it didn't help that Kara was named after her mother's best friend, Kara Larson, who's constant support for the Terran Empire (despite being in an entirely different navy) had made her an icon as well. This meant any chance at a normal navy career went right out the airlock. Kara knew that she'd gotten command of her current ship, a City-class cruiser named HMS Vienna, with some help from someone, she didn't know if it was her mother or a friend of her mother, but while she was pretty good at commanding a ship in action, she was still a bit young, even for a rising star. Turning away from the viewport she went over to her desk and sat down, pulling up the report on what was to happen. The fleet she was in was short a few squadrons of cruisers, and the Royal Cresian Navy had offered up some of its newer cruisers to help fill the gaps. The Terran Navy had accepted as a sort of friendly gesture, it would of taken a few weeks, but the Terran Navy had the ships, it would of taken time. The RCE on the other hand, just had them available for sending out and the Empire couldn't really say no to a friendly joint operation. The Cresian ships were supposedly new, very new. The RCE favored the gravitic wedge in its ship designs, but these cruisers were suppose to lack them and still able to keep up with the Terrans, most likely a ship design from the now extinct race of assimilators called the Reconzi. Her com chimed and she accepted the call. It was the voice of the officer of the watch, a young lieutenant desperately in need of some command time, even if the ship was just sitting around doing nothing. "Ma'am, we've picked up some energy signatures consistent with what the Royal Cresian Navy provided for their new cruisers."

"Thank you Lieutenant." Kara said, grabbing her hat off the corner of her desk. "I'll be right up.

As Kara strode onto the bridge she looked over to the plot and was pleased by what she saw.
The sleek looking ships she saw sitting in formation with the rest of the ship looked nothing like the usual double hammerhead shapes she was use to studying when it came to RCN ships. However they looked glorious, there wasn't a communications array out of place on that design and she whistled softly at the sight. "Damn, quite an upgrade." She said under her breath as she took a seat in her vacant command chair. "Tactical, what can you tell me about them?" The tactical officer looked up from his displays and spoke. "Well Captain, they're streamline design must of been hard to design. While I'm detecting weapons systems, I can't see them on visual, meaning their all inside the hull until their tactical officer lets them lose. Ascetically it could probably swim in the water and not get wet and fly through the sky and make most birds faint with jealously, its a real step away from their normal design and the fact that they have a few squadrons of it means they plan to adopt in some serious numbers rather then just having one or two for testing." He paused, tapping some numbers into his console. "From the specs I have here, their armed mostly with energy weapons as their main choice of weapons and missiles are a far secondary. Lasers and grazers are standard, though I'm sure this 'Quantum Beam Laser' of theirs is just a copy of our Quantum Disruption Beam. Also from the specs, its armor is pretty thin, relatively speaking though it makes up for it in what I'm calling some pretty heavy ass, excuse me ma'am, shields. It built with an AI on board and its crew is lighter then normal, but that's normal considering the heavy lean these things have on their AIs compared to our own vessels." Kara nodded. "So in any exercise, knocking out the AI would be a good idea, too bad the AI core is probably as well protected as the bridge is." "Ma'am." The com officer drew her attention. "Admiral Kreto is signaling, all captains are to report aboard the station for a briefing immediately." "Finally." Kara said with a small grin. "Maybe we'll get to do something interesting." Some of the bridge crew laughed at that and she left the bridge. It took a few minutes for her shuttle to get a place to land in the station and she was greeted by a harassed looking Lieutenant and a small honor guard who snapped to attention. She returned the salute and watched as another craft touched down on the other side of the bay, then her attention turned back to the Lieutenant as the young man led her to the lift at the same time as another captain and his guide. She looked up and gave him a nod of greeting. It was a Cresian captain, wearing his distinctive black and gold uniform with pale gray wings, brown hair with the tri-colored streaks, and murky blue eyes. The Cresian was much taller then she was, reaching at least 8'. He wasn't any higher ranking then she was, in fact, they just might be around the same age, (which spoke volumes as Cresians lived a lot longer then humans and thus their careers tended to be slower,) and they stepped into the lift and one of the lieutenants punched in the destination. They arrived quickly and were shown into the room. Kara found the chair with her name on it and she sat down and turned to chat with one of her fellow cruiser captain. She noted that the Cresians were sitting

across from her and the captain she had rode the lift down with was sitting across from her, though his attention was currently absorbed by another Cresian human captain sitting near him. The noise of the hatch opening one last time caught everyone's attention. They stood as Admiral Kreto, a Terran human man with hair that had already turned gray despite the fact that he had a while before death would claim him, strode to his seat and motioned for everyone to sit. "Thank you all for coming, as you know this briefing was about... Kara covered her mouth as she yawned and waited patiently off to the side of the shuttle bay. The Propylons operators on the station were swamped with requests so she decided to go the old-fashion way. Anyways, she liked looking at her ship from the outside, it might not be the most elegant looking thing in the universe, but it was her command. "Captain?" the musical accented male voice camefrom behind her and she turned around. It was the Cresian captain again. 'What can I do you you Captain..." "Moroe." He said with a smile. "Captain James Moroe of RCNS Silver Wind. I felt kind of bad not introducing myself on the lift earlier even though it seemed everyone was in a rush to get there." He folded his hand behind him, probably under one of his three sets of wings, and asked, "May I ask your name?" "Captain Kara Harrington, HMS Vienna." She held out her hand. "Nice to meet you." As the other captain shook her hand there was a flash of recognition in his murky blue eyes, she was use to seeing that, if the looks didn't tip them off, the name always had them make the connection. "Nice to meet you as Captain Harrington," He responded, his musical accent practically melting her name into sounding like the most beautiful word in the galaxy. "I know we'll be busy over the next few days, but when you get a chance, how about you come aboard and I'll give you a personal tour of my command?" "I am highly interested in your offer Captain, but as you said, we'll be quite busy, finding time to spare will be hard." Kara said as her shuttle touched down. "Thank you and have a nice night Captain Moroe. Five days later, Harrington got her chance. As her shuttle crossed the gap between the two ships as admired the sleek look of the ship, noting the insignias it had painted on it showing what squadron it was a part of. It really was beautiful and she sat back as the pilot came up into the Boat Bay of the other ship and landed. The hatch opened and she saluted the honor guard there and then returned the salute of Captain Moroe who waited off to the side. 'Welcome aboard the Silver Wind Captain Harrington." He said as he waved the honor guard away and led the human to the lift. "I was impressed the way you dueled Golden Apple yesterday, that maneuver you pulled off could not have been easy."

"It most certainly wasn't." Kara replied. "We pushed our ship to the max, my engineers were getting mad at me, 'highlord' blood or not." She joked and the Cresian gave a small chuckle. "Oh all captains do that at least once, pissing off engineers is what Cresian captains do best." The liftcar finally arrived and the pair stepped in. "We'll start with engineering on that note... "I'm impressed by the array of ways your weapons can work Captain." Kara said as they entered the final destination on the tour, the captain's day cabin for a small meal and discussion. "I'll admit I was a bit peeved that your navy 'stole' our Quantum Disruption Beams when I heard the name but they work a bit differently, don't they?" Kara sat down in a chair around a small table and reached for a slice of cheese, she studied it before eating it, noticing its slightly crisp taste.

Moroe sat down across from her. "They are quite a bit different, we studied what we could from your navy, then used the designs we got from the Reconzi." He sat back, studying the holographic star map of the local area glowing on the ceiling. "It was certainly different from anything I learned in the Academy, but I adapted."
Kara nodded. "That's good," She took another slice of cheese and a cracker while Moroe helped himself to a some sort of bread and butter. "You've been doing well in the exercises so far, I can't wait to see your drive in action." She gave a small grin, "You were quite mysterious about how it worked." "With good reason." Moroe replied with a grin of his own. "I can't let the enemy in on my secret now can I?" He laughed slightly and Kara suddenly frowned. That laugh sounded familiar, though where had she heard it before... Suddenly Moroe became serious at her look and he sighed. "Something wrong?" "You..." She paused for a moment. "You sound familiar." She sat forward, studying his face. "Do I know you?" Moroe didn't answer immediately, instead he rose and walked over to the viewport, showing the station the were currently sitting in orbit around. He ran his hand through his hair and she watched with fascination as the brown turned to a very light blonde. He turned back around and his eyes were no longer murky blue rather white a dull orange shot with silver. "I use special nanites to change the color of my hair and eyes, can't do the same for my wings, but do you recognize me now?" That musical voice sounded familiar now as well and Kara dug through her memories of people. Then it hit her. "Francis Larson?" She said in complete disbelief. "I haven't seen or heard from you in years, where have you been?"
Francis Larson sat back down. Kara and Francis had been close friends when younger, Kara, along with her twin brother Edward, had always like playing with Francis, who was the child of Kara Larson, the person Kara Harrington was named after. He had grown, the last time she had saw him was as a tall awkward preteen.

He sighed again. "I disappeared right off the map right before High School. In Cresian culture, children can live on their own at quite a young age, right out of Middle School. You see, I wanted to go into the navy, but I didn't want to be recognized as Francis Larson, child of Kara Larson, I wanted to be my own person, rise on my own merits rather then leeching off the system. So I built a new identity for myself, bought a small apartment on Cresa, got a job and generally lived like any other teen wanting to be free of his parents might." "The navy isn't going to get mad when they figure it out?" Kara asked and Francis shook his head. "No, the RCN has a contingency to deal with it, as Supreme Commanders always disappear off the map and rise on their own merits under a different name in their chosen branch of military before revealing themselves. Its so no one judges them as their future leader and gets scared of accidentally setting themselves a death trap for later. The RCE wouldn't want a Supreme Commander that's a complete jackass as a leader and any heir which acts this way is likely to be removed from the chain of succession." Kara listened intently before saying, "Then you must of done something pretty spectacular to get a command this young in your life without help from your mother." "Yeah, I was aboard a destroyer hunting a pirate when the pirate got a missile through our defenses. Our XO had already been killed and our bridge crew had been thinned down by another earlier hit. The captain was knocked out and I was the highest ranking one left awake. I was able to capture, and kill, all the pirates, take the ship as a prize and save the lives of the crews they had captured as slaves. I've been on fast track, very fast track, though I suspect I might take a break from the navy for a while to allow my peers to catch up with me, maybe get into programming, or AI studies." "Sounds like a plan." Kara said with a smile, she looked at the chrono on the wall and flinched slightly. "I should get going." "Of course." Francis said, waving his hand over his eyes and hair and they reverted back to their former brown and murky blue colors. "I'll escort you back to your shuttle." He was about to reach for the button to open the door when Kara gave him a friendly hug. "Its nice seeing you again Francis."

"It was nice seeing you too, Kara." He said, then reverted back to professional as the door opened and he led her to her shuttle. "Feel free to come back any time, Captain Harrington.
As the weeks went on Kara often visited Francis aboard his ship, the two filling each other in on the years they had been apart and reminiscing on the things they did when they were still children. Kara looked up at the chrono. They were taking a day break in the exercises, more then enough time to go visit Francis, and she stood, fixing her working uniform. "Richard, you have the bridge." She said. "I'm going over to the Silver Wind if you need me." "Of course Ma'am." Richard said and something in his voice made her look up. Her XO wasn't looking at her, rather at a report of some sort, but something in his tone of voice had made her stop. It wasn't bad, just odd, and she gave him a look before turning to continue down to the shuttle.

 There was no honor guard, she had Francis get rid of the formality as it must of been getting tiresome for the marines to have to greet her so often. Instead, Francis, as Captain Moroe, greeted her with a polite smile and they would talk on they way to his day cabin where they would engage in conversation ranging all over the place. The two could talk for hours, and it wasn't above Francis to show her tactical recording of exercises so they could find flaws in each others tactics and correct them. "Captain Harrington, what a surprise." Francis said with a smile as he escorted her to the lift. "I had a feeling you would come over." "A feeling? I told you directly." Kara replied. The Cresian chuckled, Cresians were telepaths as well, but they were only telepaths and empaths, they could not move stuff around with their minds as Kara's type of telepathy could. "Anyways, we just have to discuss that last exercise and that extremely dirty trick your squadron of ships pulled." "Ha!" Francis said as the lift stopped and the two exit, walking down the nearly empty passage to his day cabin. "You call it a dirty trick, I call it tactical excellence." He pushed the button outside his door and it open, he gave a small bow, letting Kara in first and then followed her in. She immediately sat down on the couch facing the viewport, currently filled with stars and other ships, and sat back in the comfort of his day cabin. Francis sat down on the other end, staring out at the stars and the two stayed silent. Kara could feel something was bothering him and she turned her amber eyes to him. "Francis, what's wrong?" "Its nothing bad, I can assure you." He said and she felt the truth in his words, "But there have been rumors going around." "Rumors?" Kara asked. "What kind?" "That you and I are dating." Francis said, looking at the Terran captain. "Its hardly without proof. You come over here quite often and we often spend hours locked away in my day cabin talking. All it takes is an active imagination to fill in the gaps." He snorted in amusement. "The officers of the watch have even started to ask people that com for me if I'm needed immediately or if it can wait, 99% of the time they call back later or leave messages for me sort through after you leave." "Oh." Francis nodded, turning to stare out the viewport again. "I can bet the same thing is happening aboard my own ship." Kara said. "I've noticed that my com traffic seems to drop whenever there is a break long enough for me to come over here. I'm guessing they're just a bit more subtle about it." She smiled a bit. "I noticed my XO had a tone in his voice when I told him where I was going, I understand what that was now." "So are we?" Francis asked and Kara frowned. "What do you mean?"

Francis turned to face her. "Are we dating? I mean..." he paused, obviously a bit unsure, "Even if we make it an official secret, its going to be hard for me to keep my secret identity, especially if Admiral Harrington gets wind that your dating someone."

"You mean the fact that she'd probably have you background checked forward and backwards by intelligence and someone would stumble over who you are and break the news?" Kara guessed and Francis nodded with a bit of a smile.
"Correct." then his smile faded. "I enjoy being with you Kara I won't deny that, its different from when we were children, we've both changed so much over the years, its like I met you all over again. A beautiful woman that is a naval captain and around my age? Its almost perfect." "We're both navy though." Kara pointed out. "After this our deployments will probably be very different considering we are from two different navies. We won't even be able to see each other as often as my mother and father did, probably less. Do you think a commitment could hold over that many light years?" "I'll admit, for a Cresian it would probably be very hard." Francis rubbed the back of his neck. "But I would like to think I have the willpower to keep such a commitment." Kara sat back, studying the Cresian at the other end of the couch. "Then yes." "What?" "Then yes, we're dating..." She paused. "If that's alright with you." She slid down the couch to sit next to Francis and the Cresian smiled as he looked down at her. He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned against him feeling the warmth of his body as he adjusted to allow her to get closer. "You going to be staying a while?" Francis asked and Kara nodded, not taking her eyes off the view outside the ship. Francis rested his chin on her head. "Good." He said softly. With that he fell silent, content to enjoy the moment for all it was worth.

Poetry

Stargazing The Merchant Republics

Paradelle for a Ruined House

Respubliko de Libereco
Poetry Finalist
The walls are gone, now only beams and bricks, The walls are gone, now only beams and bricks, And oaken struts, it seems, were left to rot. And oaken struts, it seems, were left to rot. Now only bricks are left, and oaken beams; The walls and struts were gone to rot, it seems. Tis natures crime, a murder of this wood; Tis natures crime, a murder of this wood; Cruel time, her theft has taken from this wreck. Cruel time, her theft has taken from this wreck. Tis this, cruel natures theft from wood, a crime. Her murder of this wreck has taken time. Thick moss and grasses grow here, where they should, Thick moss and grasses grow here, where they should, Where hidden flowers show within the cracks. Where hidden flowers show within the cracks. Where here should hidden moss and flowers show? The cracks, where they within thick grasses grow. This here has grasses thick; a wreck it seems. From cracks within the walls were gone her beams, Where flowers and the moss grow where they should. Tis rot, cruel natures crime to murder wood, This show of taken time, and hidden theft; Now only oaken struts and bricks are left.

It Comes
The Nuclear Fist
The Great Scurge, Bane of Humanity, The Dread that left Gaia's loins barren. The Empire's purge, From both land and sea, Crushed it and saved many a Terran. A single cell survived, In a land of purest ash, A fatal, brutal surprise. When it came, it thrived, His armies it did thrash, And now, around us, mankind dies.

Generic Soldier Aelarus

Abnegation
Page
Shadow cast over pitch black Shaped by the minds eye Six-sided photographs of Panoramic blindsides. Theres a ceiling above the stars An echo from below the floor Theres a feeling that comes and goes In waves that my nerves absorb But even touch can lie. White noise, a voice Ever so unreal, ever so inviting White noise, a voice Drawing me to the event horizon I will sail there. Separation, abnegation Ever so unreal, ever so overwhelming The subtle whir and the piercing ring So unravels everything. I will sail there. I will build a ship and carve her razor wings So unravels everything I will build a ship and carve her razor wings And ride along the strings I will sail there and witness.

I melt into her At loss for thought or word The sky turns, sound burns This depth I cannot discern But I melt into her.

Red Lines
Respubliko de Libereco
This strip of stoic soldiers stands its ground, though many men are marred by musket shot. As friends are felled and fearsome foes abound, they shall not shout or shiver - shameful thought! Though cannons crash, these crimson-coated souls still dare to do their duty, driving north. Through gore, unglorious gashes, gaping holes, their courage, crown and country calls them forth. They bear their burden, Britain, bravely on to distant dens of death, where dangers roam. They fight the foe where few before have gone, and lend or lose their lives for love of home. Their blood, by blade and bullet bravely shed, shall mark the map with many miles of red.

Foil Nazi Flower Power

We thank you for reading this Spring 2014 edition of the NationStates Improviser!
About the NS Improviser
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