by Max Barry

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«12. . .4,0354,0364,0374,0384,0394,0404,041. . .8,7278,728»

New vedan wrote:Have any of you ever wonderd if this world is literally hell?

Bad news, Brian: it is. Welcome to Hell. May the dark lords bless your endevours now that you have realized the truth

New vedan wrote:So what do yall think this month's big disaster is going to be?

Hurricanes knock out the south and east coast. Then out of nowhere the sun will unleash a powerful magnetic storm messing up the internet for millions. Then, to heck with it, death of the firstborn for the fourth of July, thanks Jesus. <---- (take away this cat's immortality!!!! Go home Jesus. You're drunk.)

New vedan

*hurdles little meese across the road*

New vedan wrote:So what do yall think this month's big disaster is going to be?

Trump announces his co-God YHWH has instructed him to deflower and ritually sacrifice seven virgins on July 4, 2020 on the steps of St. John’s Espiscopal Church.

Fox News has been contracted to acquire the hallowed sacrificial virgins. “No horse-faced tubby pimple faced hogs,”Trump said Only the Best for this Great Nation America and its Greatest President Me,”.

“I AM THE LAW AND ORDER, VIRGIN DEFLOERING, COFEFE EATING, ALLY OF ALL REDHAT WEARING PEFULL PROTTERS, AND THE. HOSEN ONE!

When asked if these sacrifices will cure this nation of COVID-19, Trump said, “ Many people, they ask me, how come you come up with such beautiful ideas? It’s amazing what you know.”

“cure Cofefevid 19? What do you had to lose? If nothing else it will break up another boring day and that’s very very good. Besides my co-God likes that kind of thing. He keeps telling me, Donald, sir, your the Son Inshould have had, not that paddy who let a bunch of ssshulls nail him to a stick. You would have kicked butt!,

Cianlandia, New vedan, Demonos, Cossack Peoples, and 1 otherO nerds

Durkaberka da Explora wrote:Trump announces his co-God YHWH has instructed him to deflower and ritually sacrifice seven virgins on July 4, 2020 on the steps of St. John’s Espiscopal Church.

Fox News has been contracted to acquire the hallowed sacrificial virgins. “No horse-faced tubby pimple faced hogs,”Trump said Only the Best for this Great Nation America and its Greatest President Me,”.

“I AM THE LAW AND ORDER, VIRGIN DEFLOERING, COFEFE EATING, ALLY OF ALL REDHAT WEARING PEFULL PROTTERS, AND THE. HOSEN ONE!

When asked if these sacrifices will cure this nation of COVID-19, Trump said, “ Many people, they ask me, how come you come up with such beautiful ideas? It’s amazing what you know.”

“cure Cofefevid 19? What do you had to lose? If nothing else it will break up another boring day and that’s very very good. Besides my co-God likes that kind of thing. He keeps telling me, Donald, sir, your the Son Inshould have had, not that paddy who let a bunch of ssshulls nail him to a stick. You would have kicked butt!,

He is making american great. We will go back to leave it to beaver times.

Durkaberka da Explora wrote:Trump announces his co-God YHWH has instructed him to deflower and ritually sacrifice seven virgins on July 4, 2020 on the steps of St. John’s Espiscopal Church.

Fox News has been contracted to acquire the hallowed sacrificial virgins. “No horse-faced tubby pimple faced hogs,”Trump said Only the Best for this Great Nation America and its Greatest President Me,”.

“I AM THE LAW AND ORDER, VIRGIN DEFLOERING, COFEFE EATING, ALLY OF ALL REDHAT WEARING PEFULL PROTTERS, AND THE. HOSEN ONE!

When asked if these sacrifices will cure this nation of COVID-19, Trump said, “ Many people, they ask me, how come you come up with such beautiful ideas? It’s amazing what you know.”

“cure Cofefevid 19? What do you had to lose? If nothing else it will break up another boring day and that’s very very good. Besides my co-God likes that kind of thing. He keeps telling me, Donald, sir, your the Son Inshould have had, not that paddy who let a bunch of ssshulls nail him to a stick. You would have kicked butt!,

He is making american great. We will go back to leave it to beaver times.

New vedan and O nerds

lets all watch some power rangers. https://www.twitch.tv/tokusatsutv

Funkadelia has sunk. They exist as a former nation.

Developer Elections Announcement:
The votes are in and the developer can be announced. While both candidates fought valiantly, Snoodum has come out the winner. Congratulations, and speaking as Internal Manager, I look forward to working with you. To The marsupial, I'm very pleased you chose to run. Wanting to participate in government is admirable.

Oh and I hope you all enjoy your days.

Snoodum, Demonos, Kingdom of Napels, and Debussy

Mzeusia wrote:Developer Elections Announcement:
The votes are in and the developer can be announced. While both candidates fought valiantly, Snoodum has come out the winner. Congratulations, and speaking as Internal Manager, I look forward to working with you. To The marsupial, I'm very pleased you chose to run. Wanting to participate in government is admirable.

Oh and I hope you all enjoy your days.

How many people voted for me?

Snoodum and Honeydewistania

What do you call an ideology that is in process,
demo-cracy
:D

Mzeusia wrote:Developer Elections Announcement:
The votes are in and the developer can be announced. While both candidates fought valiantly, Snoodum has come out the winner. Congratulations, and speaking as Internal Manager, I look forward to working with you. To The marsupial, I'm very pleased you chose to run. Wanting to participate in government is admirable.

Oh and I hope you all enjoy your days.

Thank you for this opportunity, I hope to live up to all expectations! To Marsupial, thank you for your competition, if you have any ideas you wanted to implement, please feel free to telegram me and I can go about setting them up, crediting you for the ideas of course!

Demonos, Honeydewistania, Mzeusia, and Inceptio

Mzeusia wrote:Developer Elections Announcement:
The votes are in and the developer can be announced. While both candidates fought valiantly, Snoodum has come out the winner. Congratulations, and speaking as Internal Manager, I look forward to working with you. To The marsupial, I'm very pleased you chose to run. Wanting to participate in government is admirable.

Oh and I hope you all enjoy your days.

Congratulations to Snoodum!

Treadwellia, New vedan, Snoodum, Mzeusia, and 1 otherThe Canine Race

Kingdom of Napels wrote:Congratulations to Snoodum!

Thank you so much! I am very excited.

Mzeusia, The Canine Race, and Keen trident

Justin Jautin is back at the presses of The Snudgeskoooge's Palace Herald again! Welcome him back!

This is a link the Snoodian archives which contains all dispatches.

The Snudgeskooge’s Palace Herald

2 minutes ago
16/Skoodune/4041

New wings under construction at HDIMP Fyyrig.

The government has ordered that His Divine Imperial Majesty’s Prison, Fyyrig, a maximum security facility in the heart of the Icejaw mountains, construct two new cell blocks, Cell Block’s E and F in order to handle the unprecedented number of people arrested in connection with the multitude of terror attacks two weeks ago. When approached for comment, His Divine Imperial Majesty, God-Emperor Snudgeskooge told The Snudgeskooge Palace Herald: ‘I am deeply angered by the insolence and reckless disregard for human life these terrorists displayed. Snoodian Intelligence, military and police are rooting out these people as we speak. I have ordered extensive searches as you will have been informed and the government shall not rest until every last terrorist is locked away and made to rot! Mark my words, if anything like this ever happens again, heads will roll.’

The Health Minister, Sir Baersrik Kepran, after vehemently asking to be interviewed had this to say to our Home Affairs Correspondent, Keran Furia: ‘To such men as those political prisoners in Fyyrig prison who supported the terror attacks, I ask them to reconsider their loyalties. Prison, being lovely as it is, can turn ugly. Very ugly when the guards have no qualms with applying proper justice. Yes, you heard me right. Just keep your eyes peeled, that’s all I’m saying.’

The new measures, having been implemented to speed the searching of the nation, are as follows:

Stay inside at all times unless going shopping or to public spaces such as parks or gyms for leisure purposes.

Comply with all police, government and military personnel to the fullest and best of your abilities as decided by the police or military officers and government officials.

If anyone breaks the above demands, Fyyrig prison will be your new home. These measures are to ensure the safety of Snoodum and of Snoodians for the foreseeable future.

Written by Keran Furia, Home Affairs Correspondent of The Snudgeskooge’s Palace Herald and edited by Justin Jautin, Chief Editor of The Snudgeskooge's Herald.

May we civilise the world with an iron fist.

Read dispatch

Mzeusia and Kingdom of Napels

United kaiju provinced states

Hello other country’s of the Lazurus

Treadwellia, Demonos, and Mzeusia

United kaiju provinced states wrote:Hello other country’s of the Lazurus

Hello.

Glorious society

Congratulations Snoodum

Snoodum, Debussy, and The Canine Race

Glorious society wrote:Congratulations Snoodum

Thank you so much!

Glorious society and The Canine Race

I have completed the next installment in Snudgeskooge's story! Hooray! I hope all are comfortable and have some refreshments at hand. If any wish to start from the beginning, then read from the bottom with 'Coup in New Rogernomics', then 'Terrorism', then 'Aftershock meeting' and finally, 'Speech!'. Oh and you'll all be happy to know, this latest one doesn't have any new names to struggle pronouncing!

Knowing the cameras were zooming in on him now and the journalists had ad libbed for a few minutes now, Snudgeskooge smiled and waved.

‘Friends,’ he began. ‘People, men, women and children of Snoodum. To all of those with Snoodian blood in their veins, Snoodian air in their lungs and Snoodian ideals in their hearts, today is a day of national mourning. Mourning for those lost, for the family we, gathered here now, either in person, listening on the radio or watching from the TVs, have lost in the senseless acts of the last couple weeks.

However, I am certain, my fellow Snoodians, that you have not lost hope! You have not and will not step aside to watch terror and chaos end untold thousands more lives. You have gathered here, and all over this great country to come together in support of, and to express unity with, this government. Together, and only as one can we move forward stronger and with greater purpose!

I stand here now, to address you all with a candour many outside this great nation do not associate with us. An honesty only few know I possess. I say this because now is not the time to shrink from such truths, it is the time to acknowledge and recognise those truths with bold action and decisive new measures!

We have been hurt. The nation is hurting, our infrastructure is damaged, and the terrorists are still at large! However, do not fear. The military, police and intelligence services, as many, I am sure have started to realise, are conducting wide sweeping searches in the hunt for these sub-humans that dare to threaten our way of life! We have been injured but what must we do now!? Why, we must rise again! Rise again and bear arms against such threats! Such underhanded, dishonourable and cowardly tactics!

Do not despair, my family, for we will endure! We will thrive again and shall prosper once more! It is my firm belief that the only thing we need fear is fear itself! I implore you all, command you all, not to fear! Fear is the killer of progress, of strength, of betterment. And we shall move past these attacks with determination, unity and comradeship at the fore of minds and beating strongly in our hearts! Fear, I tell you now, should be cast aside for the insidious paralyser it is! We must convert the instinct of retreat into one of advance! One of moving forward, out of these dark hours to a country, a world, a Snoodum, made better by our collective efforts: the efforts of every single one of you!

I am convinced that you all before me, through myriad media, will give your undying support, renewed vigour, and unceasing commitment to this government in its efforts to stamp out the terrorists that struck at our hearts! I am assuredly confident that each of you will understand the need for cooperation, alertness and resolve, both of mind and of body in these coming months. We face our common difficulties together! Greater security will be needed, increased surveillance and monitoring will be implemented, and martial law will continue indefinitely!

Our difficulties that we face were not brought on by our values, our beliefs or our way of life! They were not brought on by our laws, our government or it’s people! They were not brought on by you, or me or any of us together! They were brought on by the scraps of sub-humanity that dwell in the depths of this nation’s forests, mountains and fields. They were brought on by the weasels, the rats and the flies of this country! The savage monsters who wish to do us harm! Though their aims are to bring us to our knees, Snoodians do not kneel! We kneel for no man, no ideology, no religion but ourselves! Good, honest, hard-working Snoodians, I call on you now to be vigilant, be aware and be ready for renewed assaults on our nation. We are not through these dark days though I promise you, we shall prevail!

Recognition of these truths, that we, true Snoodians are strong, are as one and are striving for a better, safer Snoodum, can only help us in these storm-ridden times ahead! Recognition of the facts that those who do us harm know little of our way of life, cannot and will not understand us and only seek to destroy and undermine this nation, can only help us in our quest for a more secure tomorrow with more power and greater stability! On these truths, must we act! Act with direct action, action untainted by lethargy or inefficiency, action unsoiled by distrust or disunity! On this, I shall deliver without hesitation or deviation, without delay and without doubt!

We, as an immense army of people, alike in our ideas and our values, should dedicate ourselves to a disciplined, highly coordinated, attack on the terrorists, through means innumerable and with heads high and voices loud! Snoodum calls out for retribution, for retaliation and for strong leadership! We shall answer her call, as only we can!’

The cheers exploded from the awaiting crowds, as Snudgeskooge held his raised fist in the air a few seconds longer. His heart was thumping in his chest, a feeling he felt sure was mirrored by everyone down below. Sir Noerak Faersier clapped a hand on his back, smiling at him from his peripheral vision. Hats were being thrown down below, babies hoisted, and whistles and shouts and cheers echoed off the flagstones and surrounding stone buildings. Everyone was awash with emotion and hope!

Snudgeskooge stumbled backwards, one of the secret service agents catching him, as Sir Baersrik Kepran fell where the God-Emperor had been moments before. It took a few seconds for the crowd to realise something was going on. They stopped cheering and, now near silent, heard the shot as it broke the sound barrier.

Bang!

Snudgeskooge felt a sharp pain in his chest as blood blossomed, staining his military uniform. He was picked up bodily by the agent who had him is her arms and shielded from any more incoming fire as the CIGS, Health Minister, Domestic Influences Principal Minister and secret service personnel quickly retreated inside the palace. The second shot was heard, as the sound travelled to his ears after the bullet had struck.

Bang!

Snudgeskooge felt himself lowered to the floor as the secret service agent took off her jacket and pressed it to the wound. The other agent did the same to Baersrik. Sir Deanron Kreaunik was shouting and pointing. ‘Medics! We need medics! Get stretchers in here!’

Paramedics spilled into the room from next door and the agent who had carried him was speaking rapidly. ‘God-Emperor, I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Just talk, keep talking to me.’

‘Have,’ Snudgeskooge coughed. ‘that man arrested.’ He coughed again, spitting blood to the side. ‘The Director…uhh…of the Home Division of Imperial.’ Snudgeskooge clenched his fist against the pain as he coughed again. ‘Snoodian Intelligence arrested.’

‘Of Course, Your Divine Imperial Majesty.’ The agent said, unwilling to question the God-Emperor for fear he’d get angrier.

A paramedic jabbed a needle into Snudgeskooge’s arm and a second later, he was lifted onto a stretcher. ‘Try to stay calm, Sir, that’ll help reduce your heart rate though I’ve just given you something to aid in that.’

Snudgeskooge nodded and coughed out a thanks. ‘It’s hard to breath,’ he told the man. ‘my guess is a perforated lung.’

The paramedic nodded, as he ran alongside the stretcher being carried by two more paramedics. ‘Well, we’ll find the extent of the damage in the theatre, Sir.’

‘That’s God-Emperor,’ he broke off into a short coughing fit. ‘Snudgeskooge, His Divine Imperial Majesty to you.’ The God-Emperor sputtered. He turned to Noerak, who was running alongside him on the other side. ‘I want CCTV on for the operations. He stopped to prevent himself from coughing blood. ‘And bring Illidia down too. Everyone else at the meeting needs to be there.’

‘Your Divine Imperial Majesty, why would—'

‘Noerak, I’m asking you, one human to another, to give the footage to The Herald. Even if I…don’t make it,’ Snudgeskooge fought back another cough. ‘hand over the footage. They’ll know what to do.’

‘Sir, You shouldn’t need to martyr yourself to—’

‘I don’t intend to do that, Noerak, just be ready in case the Monarchs see fit that I join them. Illidia can take over and I trust you will look after her.’

Noerak nodded grim-faced. ‘Yes Sir, I—’

‘Keep the crowd in the square. Have police and the army maintain order and,’ A longer fit of more violent coughing took hold of the God-Emperor. ‘livestream the operations to the TV’s outside. I want everyone following along. This is the news now, Noerak, I don’t want anything else playing on the radio or TV.’ He coughed once more. ‘The Internet takes you straight to the footage and you can’t click away. It is everyone’s national duty—’

‘What are you saying, Sir!?’

‘Do it Noerak. As your God-Emperor, I order you, as your friend, I beseech you, as Snoodum’s head of state, I make the decision for us all,’ Snudgeskooge raised his hand in anticipation of a cough that didn’t come. ‘to livestream the operation.’

The theatre doors burst open and the palace changed from the beautiful, intricately decorated walls, celling and floor to the stark, sterile and sanitary whites, light blues and greys of the operating room. Through the glass in the viewing chamber, Snudgeskooge could see his government gathered, with more officials coming in and standing to watch the operation. The surgeon looked down at him, eyes betraying a mind on a mission, a mission so important as to have the power to change world history. ‘We’re putting you under now, Snudgeskooge.’ The man breathed deeply from his oxygen mask and the world blackened.

(For any of you wondering, I listened to Roosevelt's 1933 Inaugural Speech as inspiration!)

Snoodum wrote:

Hello everyone! I hope all are doing well. This is the next installment in the God-Emperor's story. The post just below, titled 'Airshock meeting' is a continuation from the first quoted post that unfolds in the spoiler titled 'Terrorism'. This post is itself a continuation from the post about the April Fools coup in New Rogernomics with the aptly named spoiler titled 'Coup in New Rogernomics'. I include the earlier post in case someone is just entering Snudgeskooge's world and does not wish to do any detective work in finding the earlier posts. If you wish to start from the start, read from the bottom, starting with the coup in New Rogernomics post, then the terrorism post then this new one, Aftershock meeting. Thank you for your time and happy reading.

Name Pronunciations:
Deanron Kreaunik (Day-an-ron Crew-nik)
Eranik Jiogor (E-ran-ick Zh-or-gore)
Uergig Cearnid (Ur-gig K-air-nid)

The Second Chamber, now filled with generals, intelligence heads and government ministers, was silent. They all looked at the God-Emperor as he sat collecting his thoughts. ‘Extend martial law indefinitely, generals.’ He said, looking at the self-portrait on the wall opposite. He turned to The Domestic Influences Principal Minister. Sir Deanron Kreaunik looked back, uniform pressed, epaulets polished and bionic arm holding a glass of water. Snudgeskooge looked at the man a moment longer before speaking. ‘Deanron, have your men conduct a nation-wide sweep. We need door to door, room by room searches. I want all those without ID chips, chipped, all those not on the database, on it and I need more cameras, more informants and more information. The military can handle your protection duties for now, just get it done. I want the ID chips updated with blood-flow, heart-rate, hormone levels, and anything else your research team can give me.’

Sir Kreaunik nodded. ‘I’ll see what they can do, Your Divine Imperial Majesty.’ The man got up to leave as the God-Emperor waved him away but was stopped when Snudgeskooge stood, addressing him again. ‘We need regular testing throughout the day of as much information as we can get. Drug testing, alcohol testing, brain activity, everything I mentioned before and then more.’ The Domestic Influences Principal Minister nodded again, leaving the room.

A servant rushed in seconds afterwards with another jug of orange juice and one of water. Snudgeskooge called out to the man as he left. ‘Get the First Secretary to put the Head of Snoodian Construction Solutions on the line.’ The servant nodded and picked up the pace.

The Head of The Propaganda Army at The Snudgeskooge’s Palace Herald was next. The God-Emperor locked eyes with the man before pointing to the bank of phones along the wall. ‘Get The Herald the be on stand-by. Once we find the culprit of all of this, they need to be ready to notify people of the treason. Get the Director of the Herald on the line now though.’

Seconds later, a button on the phone by Snudgeskooge’s left hand lit red. He picked it up.

‘Your Divine Imperial Majesty, this is Eranik Jiogor, Director of the—'

‘Yes, thank you. Keep the radio going, the papers rolling and the TV hosts tired, Jiogor. I want the people informed, I want them angry and I want the terrorist message nowhere to be found, do you understand?’

‘Of course, Your Divine Imperial Majesty,’

‘Good. Get on that, I’ll be watching.’ Snudgeskooge laid the phone back in its cradle and motioned to the TV. ‘Someone turn that on.’ A servant who had just laid another plate of biscuits pressed the remote and flicked to Snoodum Hourly. Snudgeskooge stopped the servant with a raised hand. ‘Get the Imperial Snoodian Cartographical Archives to send copies of all the maps of Snoodum from sewerage to…everything else.’ The servant nodded and walked briskly to the row of phones along the wall.

Another button on the phone lit up and Snudgeskooge picked it up.

‘This is Uergig Cearnid, Head of Snoodian Construction Solutions.’

‘Good. Get out the Galgarian government-issued flat designs. You’re going to be building a whole host of new ones on the edge of the city and this is your top priority. Any problems, call me in an hour.’

Snudgeskooge put the phone down again and addressed the assorted government ministers. ‘I need a series of laws drawn up. We have to clamp down on bridge traffic when the bridge is built. That means more searches, the ability to remotely control Snoodian trains and trucks coming in and going out, more extensive defence networks in Logirfar, laws, stipulating the need for more travel documentation, more background checks and a lesser monitoring system than Snoodians have. We should just need the Snoodian Navigational Orientation Orbital Divulgation network to track them.’ He turned to Sir Baersrik Kepran, Snoodian Health Minister and smiled. ‘Oh and you’ll all be getting increased security. I’ll get in touch with police to go over the changes though I have to say, I’m not yet sure IFVs should replace your armoured cars.’

Sir Kepran smiled. ‘What about the fighters escort I suggested earlier?’

Snudgeskooge grinned. ‘Two extra bodyguards will suffice for both you and your wife.’

Sir Kepran nodded, taking a sip of water. ‘Thank you, though one day, I’ll show up in an IFV.’

‘I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.’

There was a lull in conversation in which servants refilled jugs of water and juice alongside putting down more bowls of seaweed and plates of biscuits. The Director of the Home Division of Imperial Snoodian Intelligence spoke. He was a quiet man with thinning hair and a set of wire rimmed glasses placed on a long nose. His eyes were failing, his body weakening but his mind was as sharp as ever. Your Divine Imperial Majesty,’ he started to say, slowly, standing. The God-Emperor bade him sit with a downwards wave of his hand.

‘I missed something?’

The man smiled a thin smile. ‘My agents foiled three plots, Your Divine Imperial Majesty. The terrorists had targeted the Mzeusian Embassy, had planned the destruction of The Snudgeskooge’s Palace Herald’s main office and the Ministry of Transport. We’ve dismantled plans for a terrorist attack on the Kalron Bridge when it would have opened.’

His Divine Imperial Majesty looked coldly at the man. ‘We have a major security breach on our hands and you come to me saying it could have been worse? Well,’ Snudgeskooge said, speaking straight over the sputtering attempts of the aging man. ‘Sir, you could have done a better job of it. You could have foiled the train explosion, the attempted assassination of Baersrik here, or prevented the sinking of Mr Hissum, or any of the other attacks foiled by good men and women on the ground, at the scene of the attacks, some with little to no training.’ Snudgeskooge looked at the man intensely, forcing him to look away. ‘I’m keeping you on and have allowed you access to this meeting because of your stellar past record. Make sure this is the only black mark on your record and I’ll forgive you in time. Fail me again and your job will be the least of your problems.’

The room was silent for a minute until Snudgeskooge rose from the table. ‘Until we get those maps, there’s not much more we can do. You’ll be notified to return here sometime today. Don’t go too far.’ He turned to the old man who’s just spoken. ‘Sir, I’ll be making a speech on the Imperial Balcony after we have reconvened. I intend to finish it alive and well. Have your men secure the area, triple check everything and do whatever needs doing. If something goes wrong, I’ll retire you.’ The God-Emperor swept from the room, retreating into the First Chamber and sitting on his large, four-poster bed before letting himself fall into the sheets.

An hour and forty-one minutes later

Snudgeskooge was back in the Second Chamber with everyone filing in. The servants had moved in four more tables and held the maps down with books and assorted statuettes of the Monarchs and important Galgarian and Snoodian philosophers, generals, scientists and other such key historical figures.

The Chief of the Imperial General Staff and The Domestic Influences Principal Minister stood either side of the frightened elderly man who had the position of Director of the Imperial Snoodian Cartographical Archives. The man leaned over the maps, explaining each one to the God-Emperor. There were old maps of the city layout, there were newer maps of the bunker building program that Sndgeskooge had ordered constructed for that strange annual event when people died and rose again, there were maps both new and old of the Snoodian Underground, with abandoned stations, half-built, dis-used or just the hollow shells of the tunnel and platform. There were sewerage maps, underground warehouse maps, maps and maps and more maps were spread out on the tables brought in. More littered the floor, and yet more were held by servants waiting outside.

Snudgeskooge, standing on a map of isolated farmhouses, which overlapped a map of mountain retreats looked up at Sir Deanron Kreaunik and Sir Noerak Faersier with a grim look. ‘Who else can we mobilise?’

Noerak Fearsier spoke first. ‘Snoodian youth groups can be used. I’ll call out the Airforce reserves.’

Sir Deanron broke in. ‘Church groups can assist in the efforts and, if you’ll permit it, we can put out a financial reward.’

Snudgeskooge considered the options for a second. ‘It all sounds good but drop the reward. This is their duty and we’re already readjusting budgets in the wake of the damage. I want teams of people everywhere. Insist on a police, active military or reserve presence in each and coordinate efforts over police frequencies. I can’t tell you how long this will take but once it’s over, I want everyone on a register or database of some kind. We can bring them in later, just log them on some system for now. We’ll get Snoodian Construction Solutions to start filling in tunnels and the like. The aim is to find the people. If there’s some old bunker we can re-use, that’s a bonus. He addressed the scared Director of ISCA. ‘Do your job correctly, map-man and you’ll get a raise, a statue and a mention in the history books. Wrongly and you wont be astride a grave anymore.’ The small man nodded and swallowed as Snudgeskooge walked out the room to go over the speech he was to give in a few minutes. With the impromptu nature of it, came the lack of preparation he hated so much. Today was one of those days he just had to hope his strength of character, articulation and immaculate public speaking record carried him through.

Snoodum wrote:Hi everyone, I hope we are all doing marvellously! Trouble erupts in Snoodum however! The below is the last few paragraphs of the post that leads onto these developments in the spoiler. I hope you enjoy:

After a few minutes of him sitting down, the door was opened by a servant. ‘Morning, your Divine Imperial Majesty, God-Emperor Snudgeskooge, but I’ve been asked to turn on the TV.’

Snudgeskooge nodded, and tossed the man the remote, too ill to do it himself. The servant caught it with ease. On the screen, a reporter stood in front of Sluluberra Station outside of which dozens of emergency vehicles were pulled up. The reporter spoke quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the carnage behind. ‘The seven thirty-eight train from Floysus Hill to Dochums Park has exploded with around three hundred people on board. Paramedics are already here and civilian vehicles are being requisitioned as ambulances. Counter-terrorism police are waiting in the wings to secure the station again. All other stations on the Imperial Line have been evacuated and the stations swamped with Counter-terror officers.’

Snudgeskooge turned to the servant. ‘Get me the Minister for Home Affairs, bring the CIGS back and get us some more water.’ The servant nodded and rushed off. Snudgeskooge got up again and stood behind his chair, muting the TV. The morning had only just begun for most people, but the God-Emperor hadn’t slept. He doubted he get any for a while longer given these new developments.

Name Pronunciations: Teiran Jeiarak (T-ear-an (Jure as in de jure)-ak)
Kenerik Sirein (Ken-err-ik Sigh-rin)
Noerak Faersier (Nor-ak Fair-seer)
Ginaric (Zhin-ar-ick)
Kutsenrog (Koot-sen-rog)
Jorean Goearig (Zhor-an Gore-ig)
Meirgar (Meer-gar)
Ganerib (Gan-air-ib)
Kilansap (Kill-an-sap)
Pakeirob (Pack-air-ob)
Baersrik Kepran (Bear-s-rick Kep-ran)
Jesarak Dereau (Jess-ar-ack Der-ooh)
Faerkork (Fair-cork)
Aeorna (Ay-Or-na)
Fiakreg (Fee-er-kreg)
Neanra (Nay-an-ra)
Laara (Lay-ar-a)
Eirana Aleara (Ear-ar-na Al-ee-ar-a)
Nakerik (Nack-er-ick)
Gakoric (Gack-or-ick)

Five minutes later, Sir Noerak Faersier and Sir Jorean Goearig, Chief of the Imperial General Staff and Minister of Home Affairs respectively stepped into the room quickly taking seats at the table. The water arrived moments later.

‘Thank you, Your Divine Imperial Majesty, the emergency services should be able to handle the explosion, though we have to lock down other potential targets: there will be considerable disruption. Airports, other train stations, hospitals, ports, and the like. I’ll get in touch with relevant authorities if that would suit.’ Sir Goearig said, glancing up at the reporter on the looming television screen once again.

Snudgeskooge nodded, waving a hand in affirmation. ‘Have all the targets locked down. I want reserves activated, and the army out on the streets ready to implement martial law, and our best investigators working around the clock on who did this.’

Sir Faersier nodded. ‘Of course, Your Divine Imperial Majesty, I’ll notify the reserve commanders. I’m thinking we can get some legislation through on increased bridge security without appearing too jumpy on the international stage. Such an attack cannot go unpunished.’

‘No, you’re right. It won’t go unpunished, Noerak. I’m starting to think of the names of likely culprits now. Evidently the re-education program will need to be stepped up, though I can’t see it reasonably being rolled out to all Snoodians. One day though, mark my words.’

‘We’ll do what we can Your Divine Imperial Majesty.’ Noerak said, standing. ‘Anything else, your Divine Imperial Majesty?’

‘Stay here,’ the servant came in with the water and Snudgeskooge turned to him. ‘Call back the Admiral and Air Marshal.’ The man nodded, put the water on the end of the table, and left again in a hurry.

Nine minutes later, both men had returned again, noticeably changed from when they were there last. ‘You called for us, Your Divine Imperial Majesty?’ Grand Imperial Admiral Ginaric said, standing.

‘Air Chief Marshal Meirgar, scramble your jets to escort all planes currently still in the air to the nearest air base. You have my authority in this and complete authorisation to board the planes if they do not comply fast enough. As to how fast ‘fast enough’ is, that’s up to you.’ The God-Emperor swivelled to Admiral Ginaric. ‘You are friends with the Admiral of the Coastguard, have him lock down the ports, and have your men account for all dock workers. Set up channels with Counter-Terror Command, Border Control Command and Organised Crime Command. Such an attack is never solitary.’

Just as the God-Emperor had finished speaking, the television changed to a scene of a road packed with requisitioned cars and ambulances all streaming towards the nearest hospital. The camera focused on a burning wreck of an ambulance, before sweeping over the battered cars beside it, as paramedics swarmed, carrying from what remained of the vehicle a man in tattered paramedic uniform and with heavy burns all over his body. The camera, as every cameraman was instructed, swept away from his face and back to the cars surrounding the blasted ambulance. Other paramedics were pulling their compatriots and the wounded out of the vehicles, some kneeling in the road as they patched up minor injuries, others carrying them away to more awaiting ambulances or police vans that were being used as ambulances to cope with the immense strain. The camera swept over to a group of soldiers pushing their way onto the streets, yelling at pedestrians to get back in cafés, apartment blocks and bookshops, gesturing with their rifles. Some alert captain had had the presence of mind to get his men up and out to help. Snudgeskooge would make sure they all got a raise and promotion.

‘Get the police to redirect traffic now! We need clear routes to the hospitals! Have someone on the ground set up a temporary helipad! Isn’t there a military medical training school nearby!?’

CIGS Noerak Faersier nodded. ‘Yes, Sir. I’ll get them ready for the first wave of casualties.’ The man looked grim-faced at the television until Snudgeskooge waved him away. He hurried over to a telephone on the edge of the room and spoke rapidly.

Snudgeskooge locked eyes with Sir Jorean Goearig. ‘Get that reporter off the street. At least shut that camera off! I’ll have her hand-copying records by the end of the week if she gets anything more!’ The Minister of Home Affairs rushed off to another phone and picked up the phone to the Snudgeskooge’s Palace Herald. They’d shut off the camera from their main building. The clock ticked ominously above the doorway.

Royal Darvig II Station, twenty minutes later

Corporal Ganerib stood in front of the ticket barriers. Kilo section of the XXVI Counter-Terror Corps had their carbines by their side, uniforms pressed and gas masks on. The stream of people was a mix of those moving quickly through the barriers—so as not be reported as not having turned up to work—and those who were still on the edge of deciding to go home to rest in the assured safety of their homes.

The Corporal grabbed a man’s exposed wrist, pressing his ID chip to the ticket barrier sensor and pulling the rest of him through. Ganerib’s team had just finished debriefing from a house raid when the call had come in. They’d all had to rush back to the armoury and gear up for this job. Herding sheep. Despite Ganerib’s feelings for the assignment, he knew he had to be awake. It was just that he hadn’t properly decompressed from the last task, as was normal. His body was simultaneously trying to obey the routine and realising that that wouldn’t do. Another few hours and they could go back. No doubt they’d be running double shifts for at least—

A man caught his eye. He was leaning on a concrete column at the entrance to the station. Ostensibly on his phone, the man was clearly looking at the ticket barriers. Ganerib had three choices. Raise his carbine and order the man to put his hands on his head and walk slowly over, start walking over to the man himself, or get Counter-Terror Command to run a check on the man’s ID chip. The last option would take the longest in such a crowd as this but he’d be more certain of what his next move would be.

The man looked up, eyes locking onto the darkened glass of Ganerib’s gasmask. He smiled, gave a nod and his thumb twitched on the screen.

A blast tore through the station as the ticket barriers behind the Corporal were blown to shrapnel, pieces of twisting metal and plastic flying out, the explosive force of the bomb throwing Ganerib to the ground. In the scant seconds of screaming masonry and metal, before the agony and wailing broke out, Ganerib could hear Private Kilansap shouting down his shoulder-mounted radio for paramedics.

Ganerib turned to Private Pakeirob. The man had been standing next to him at the barriers but now his back was studded with metal shrapnel and blood was pooling quickly by his legs splayed before him as he slumped on the ground. The Corporal grabbed a bandage from his small medical kit. He awkwardly removed the man’s Kevlar vest before bandaging a small head wound, first washing it out with medical alcohol. The remaining officers of Kilo Section were shouting for all the civilians to get out, order collapsing as people fled amid the sound of flames and wreckage.

11000 metres over the northern Snoodian countryside, two minutes later

Baersrik Kepran, Minister for Health sat in a brown armchair, the table between the seats bolted to the floor. His left hand held his cane, encased in a basket hilt that gave the impression of a silversilk spider on its back, legs up and forming the cradle around his hands.

Opposite him sat his bodyguard, Jesarak Dereau. A quiet man, Jeserak was a mystery. He’d experienced hardship since he was very young, though Jesarak hadn’t thought it necessary to read the man’s file. All he cared to know was that Jesarak had saved him from three crazy nutjobs who raved about alternative medicine and the like. Alongside them, the man had four years in the army under his belt and seven in the Snoodian Special Air Service. Five years as Baersrik’s bodyguard having come straight out of the SSAS, lent the man an aura of stoic passivity when travelling as they were now. Baersrik knew better. Jesarak had a standard-issue ISASMG by his side.

Sipping the cool water from a gold-leafed champagne flute, Baersrik smiled at Jesarak. The trip was a short one, a PR stunt really. All it was was shaking hands with doctors, meeting patients and opening a new emergency wing in some clinic somewhere and a new hospital somewhere else. Nothing he couldn’t handle.

His wife sat on the other side of the plane, lost in copying the book now known as the Imperial Snoodian Anatomical Encyclopaedia, bodyguard sitting opposite her. The book, despite its publication under the Galgarian government and subsequent use as a tool for torturing many pro-Snoodum rebels, was filled with even the smallest of details, and a must-have for anyone even thinking of going into a medical field in Snoodum. Many were concerned about its use, citing the history of the book and its status in some circles as the darkest reminder of the horrors of the pre-coup regime. Baersrik saw it differently, however. All those rebels tortured in unspeakable ways were not being allowed to die in vain. Not only had their contribution forwarded the coup in life, they were helping Snoodian medical professionals in all fields better understand their patients, and, therefore, these rebels were saving lives. Back when he was a surgeon, Baersrik had pulled it out prior to myriad operations, updating himself on the relevant sections. He lost count of the times it had without a doubt saved the patient, let alone the times his reading it before bed every night had saved people.

The sound of the engines exploded around Baersrik’s ears as the cabin door shot open, and he turned in his seat jumpily. Two men dressed in black and carrying pistols stepped in from the freezing atmosphere, diving into the cabin. They slammed hefty-looking pitons into the roof from their belts. Everything not nailed down or being held flew past the two men and out of the aeroplane as the cabin depressurised. The champagne flutes hit the assassins, splashing them with water before being sucked out of the plane. Some farmer would find a nice set of expensive glassware in his field.

Baersrik grabbed the hilt of his cane, pulling a sword from it as he held onto the seats. Jesarak was quicker, using the bolted-down table for something to hold onto and whipping the sub-machine gun up, firing a burst at the first intruder. The rounds threw the man against the back of the cabin, but he squirmed for a grenade on his harness. They had come prepared for the bodyguards. The Health Minister flipped the cane around and broke it over his knee. Slipping a slug into the chamber that revealed itself, he proceeded to empty his cane-shotgun into the second intruder. The man dropped, flew out of the plane, now dangling by his cord.

Jerasak was kneeling, pulling up the seat for their evacuation plan. Baersrik changed hands with the sword, advancing on the first man. He had gotten up and was raising his pistol to fire when Baersrik body-slammed him back into the cabin wall, grabbing the arm holding the pistol and pointing it up. Baersrik broke the man’s nose with an unhealthy crack, though, with a hiss, he felt the man’s hands on his chest. Suddenly, he was flung down the aisle, hitting the floor hard. The assassin raised his pistol to Jesarak, just as he ran over to Bearsrik and began pulling him towards the seats. Why was his bodyguard not firing back?

His wife’s bodyguard had finished strapping her charge under the seat and straightened back up, pointing both arms in the assassin’s direction. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. Five steel spikes flew from the woman’s bionic arms, embedding themselves into the intruder’s chest. He turned his helmeted head towards her before collapsing in a heap. In a flash, Jesarak gave the woman a silent signal and she pulled up the bottom of the seat, getting into some sort of glass and metal chamber in the space that opened up. She closed the lid and waited. Jesarak had been checking the bodies but scrambled back over to his seat, tearing the seat-bottom open as the others had done. He had seen the ominous box strapped to the man, complete with timer and wiring assembly: a bomb.

Baersrik had gone through the safety measures of this plane before boarding and put two and two together. His conclusion was that there would never be enough time for Jesarak to get inside his pod. The Health Minister pushed open the lid of his pod and shouted. ‘Get in here!’ Jesarak looked over instinctively. Baersrik shouted again. ‘Get in, there’s room for two!’ Jesarak took one more look at the bomb, red lights ticking ominously as the assassins’ shirt blew in the wind from the door. He vaulted the table and half-scrambled, half was pulled into the chamber, looking down at his charge. Everyone knew these chambers were built to house one but they also understood it was their best chance. With the click of the lid and a barked command from Baersrik to get them the hell away from the bomb that was their plane, the pilots, themselves locked safely in their own pods, released the catch. All six pods, one empty, hurtled towards the ground, the plane exploding soon after they had dropped away. When they hit terminal velocity, the chambers tore themselves away, parachutes unfurled, and the descent slowed dramatically. Baersrik had wrapped his legs around his bodyguard’s waist, arms under his and holding on for all he was worth. He would have laughed at Jesarak’s stony face if they hadn’t just been targets of a couple assassins. The bodyguard had regained his composure and, aside from holding onto the Health Minister, was no different from when he had been sitting opposite him maybe a minute ago. The Imperial Snoodian Aviation Control, or ISAC would have been notified the second the door had been torn off the aeroplane, and then again with the loss of their red dot on the sprawling map in ISAC headquarters. The story would be pieced together later.

Snudgeskooge’s Palace Airport, Five Minutes later

In Waiting Room E of Snudgeskooge’s Palace Airport, a man sat down, laptop bag on his lap. As he was unzipping it, another man sat down, in dark shades and a thick winter coat. Odd, a winter coat in warm weather? I mean maybe he can’t regulate body—’

The man got up and out of the corner of his eye, Faerkork noticed him walk quickly into a bookshop and pick out a large book. He had left his briefcase. Faerkork’s friends always made fun of him for constantly being glued to the news.It was all propaganda anyway, they whispered. Now, however, this obsession alerted Faerkork to his biggest fear. ‘RUN!’ He shouted, pulling people up and pushing them away from the suitcase. ‘RUN, there’s a b—’ BOOM

Faerkork was thrown to the floor by the blast, pain shooting up from his legs and back as officers rushed over to the blast. They’d be getting the first aid kits from under the seats by now but the damage had been done. Luckily, seeing as not many people were flying these days, the death toll would be minimal, though the waiting rooms had been converted into temporary housing for the homeless and so a few people had been milling around. Faerkork couldn’t move. His legs weren’t responding, and it hurt to move. The once-white tiles of the waiting room were staining red and moans and screams from adults and children mingled with the frantic shouting of security officers as Faerkork lost consciousness.

Miss Aeorna was doing her shopping among the temporary shelving set up in Waiting Room L when the speaker system came on. Attention everyone. Stay where you are. Please, remain calm and stay exactly where you are. Security are dealing with a new development elsewhere. Remember, remain where—

BOOM The unmistakable sound of a bomb exploding tore through Miss Aeorna’s mental shopping list as she instinctively cowered behind the shelves. Three security officers rushed out of an office mere moments later, shouting ‘Everyone get down, everyone—’

BOOM Another bomb exploded inside the shop they were running past, knocking two of them to the floor and making the other one stop, turning to the location of the blast. He was tackled by a man in a hoodie from behind a shelf in the shop and the two of them rolled on the floor before the officer’s colleagues pulled the offender off, executing him right there before moving onto help their colleagues with the wounded.

Shots rang out as men grabbed the guns of dead officers and shot down isolated airport security officials. A few minutes later, a team of security officers burst from a heavy door down a corridor. They were in full riot gear, carrying rifles and spreading out quickly. Miss Aeorna was pulled to her feet by an officer she hadn’t noticed. Her head was forced down as the woman pointed down the corridor and told her to not stop running. Miss Aeorna took off, keeping low and hoping to the Monarchs that she wouldn’t get shot. Another officer pointed her around the corridor where more officers were equipped with rifles and riot gear. As she ran past the windows, Miss Aeorna saw Air Ambulance helicopters land on the runway, paramedics spilling forth armed with pistols. Her daughter would probably tell her they were allowed to carry them into an active combat zone and had been trained alongside the regular army soldiers.

Sir Kepran Hospital, Ten minutes later

A fugitive called Bo-Winkle was apprehended by the porters in the Insane Ward. He was actually the known subversive Bo-Wrinkle, undercover, having taken that name to disguise his malintent. Thankfully, an orderly had misspelled his name on an electroshock treatment waiting list, and was able to subdue him, owing to the effects of being mostly fried.

Port Hofenvager, Imports Parking Office 6

Fiakreg drained his coffee cup as his colleague walked into the office. He smiled at the woman walking over to his chair. She leaned over the monitors showing what the cameras watched. ‘Well, we have a lot of trucks here for a Snoodleday, eh? How’s the Parking-Master General tonight?

Fiakreg smiled. ‘Good and you?

‘Feeling good. Found a new school for Neanra that allows her to get the help she needs.’

‘That’s great!’ how long has it been?’

‘A month arguing with the relevant authorities. I won’t bore you with the details.’ She said ushering him out of his seat.

‘Okay but if you need anything—’

‘Call the Parking-Master General, I get it. Go home Fiakreg, you need the rest.’

‘Night Laara.’ Fiakreg said.

‘Night Fiakreg.’ She said, settling down in the chair and taking a sandwich box out of her bag. Fiakreg closed the door and headed out the door and into the car park, the night shift now over. He passed a pair of truck drivers talking against a wall and dipped his hat to them before rounding a corner.

Suddenly, he felt a strong arm against his throat, and he was pushed back and downwards as stars started to cloud his vision. A moment later, the truck drivers lowered his body and propped it against the wall of the warehouse.

Hofenvager Docks, Warehouse Operations Building

Miss Eirana Aleara was seated at her desk, fidgeting, her mind racing. The job was simple. Walk into her boss’s office, preferably while he was in there. He was a balding man in his mid-sixties with three children, a devoted wife, and the boring-sounding but important job of Warehouse Administrator. She was his secretary. He was by the new coffee machine they had installed last month and had just poured her a coffee, handing it to her as he walked back into his office, leaving the door open as he always did when he did not have to think too hard about the work he was just about to do.

Eirana moved to take out the package from a drawer in her desk before stopping. Am I really going to kill my boss? All for what? For a cult that will remain on the fringes, and hates Snudgeskooge with a blind fury? She stopped, pushing away from the desk and running a hand through her hair. I’ll most certainly be killed in the blast. And for what? Guns to be stolen by the cult, so they can keep up the killing? She pushed the thoughts from her mind and picked up the package, knocking on Nakerik’s door.

‘Come in Eirana.’ He said jovially, looking up from his work.

‘What are you doing?’ She asked, noticing he was fiddling with a photograph.

‘Oh, this? My wife thought I’d appreciate a new photo of her in this office, and—along with those flowers she sent me yesterday—it does do wonders for this room. If only I’d get permission from on high to make it more personal, you know?’

‘Certainly.’ Eirana said. Make that four children. The photo was beautiful. Her boss clicked the frame shut. The flowers really did brighten the room up and now Nakerik was smiling at her, pushing back what remained of his hair. And she was thinking of blowing him up.

She set the package on the floor before taking her phone out. Nakerik only now noticed the shoebox-sized object wrapped in bright wrapping paper showing the God-Emperor smiting the evil Wrinkled Giant monster and was about to say something when she put a finger to her lips. Port Hofenvager Control Centre, how may I help you? came the voice on the other end.

‘There are around forty men and women in Car Park Six, all armed with automatic weapons. They are posing as truck drivers and plan to make off with the weapons housed in Warehouse Six. There’s a bomb in the Warehouse Operations Building above the car park.

Right. And what’s your name?

‘Eirana Aleara.’

We’ll be right over. Thank you for the call. Have a good day and do not touch that bomb.

‘Thank you.’ Eirana ended the call and motioned for Nakerik to leave the room. He did so gingerly, walking along the walls of the room before darting out the door. She led the man down the stairs and into the ground-floor office. The room had a couple windows which she boarded up by pushing the bookshelves against them, as her boss sat in shock on the sofa. Eventually, she had to coax him to sit on the floor as she pushed the sofa against the door, moving the desk and last bookshelf into place against the back wall, so as to make it impossible to push the furniture away from outside the room. The two of them sat on the floor together as Eirana tried to get Nakerik to start talking again.

Port Hofenvager Port Security Armoury, fifteen minutes away

Corporal Gakoric jumped in the back of an APC. The office had exploded in frantic voices a few minutes prior as someone had made a series of calls to higher ups. They had had a hurried briefing and were heading out to Car Park Six. The IFVs and APCs rumbled out of the armoury mere minutes later, as men bumped along inside. The firefight would be fierce and a small fleet of drones was aloft, armed with thermal cameras, laser designators, and high-powered optics. To think, he’d been on the phone to his daughter about ten minutes previously.

The Corporal knew the plan. About a platoon of hostiles. APCs and IFVs would go in first, putting down smoke as the drones revealed the trucks they were using and he and his men, alongside another thirty-two police, would clean up and offer infantry support. Simple enough.

A few minutes later, bullets started to ping off the outside of the APC. That was the trouble with going underground to hide from the government. These men didn’t have the military training five years of conscription would have given them. The team jumped out as the forty-millimetre cannon tore through man and truck alike. The wall of smoke obscured the police from these idiots and Corporal Gakoric downed man after man with bursts of fire, moving forward as more cannon fire tore through the poor fools. A suicide drone ripped through three hostiles as they came around a truck and another drone disabled a truck with a near-miss as the police mopped up the stragglers quickly.

After the APCs and IFVs had stopped with the smoke and cannon fire, the Corporal was picking through the bodies of the hostiles for identifying marks. His section had been assigned to making sure they were all gone. He crouched down and checked a body without any visible injuries. The man coughed slowly. He’d most likely dropped in the first few seconds, hoping to crawl away afterwards. ‘Yah!’ Another hostile rounded the burning truck and had levelled his rifle at the Corporal before he was killed with a burst to the chest. Another bullet to the head came from a private’s pistol, following a closer inspection. The first man on the ground coughed again. The Corporal redirected his attention. Best put him out of his misery. He pulled his service pistol out and fired, as the Private had before the team moved on. The only other man they found siting down and leaning against a trucks’ wheel. He was clutching his stomach and on seeing the soldier tried to stand. Another private finished the man with his pistol before Corporal Gakoric was satisfied they had cleared out the car park.

‘Let’s get to the parking office. Just to make sure.’ One of his men took out a laser he always carried with him and danced it over the window in the office. A woman looked out and, on realising they were police hurried down the stairs. The Corporal noticed a man unconscious and leaning on a wall. He was different. He didn’t carry a gun and was in a parking attendant’s uniform. Gakoric pulled his pistol out and approached the man, kicking his outstretched leg. The man awoke with a start before scrambling up the wall and looking around, eyes resting on the Corporal’s Transport Police badge. His shoulders slumped in relief as he brushed himself off. The Corporal put his pistol away. ‘We’ll need you to come to the office to give your version of events, Sir.’

Fiakreg nodded, slowly before the Port Security section exited the parking administration building. ‘All clear, Corporal, we can get back now,’ said one of the men.

The Corporal nodded. ‘Let’s not keep the APC waiting. Load up!’ The section moved, taking both parking attendants with them as they closed the hatch to the APC and it trundled back to the police barracks. The Corporal wished he could say it was just a normal day, but things were getting worse and the whole office would probably have to start pulling extra shifts. At least now he could get himself that tea he needed.

HDIMS Mr Hissum, Port Hofenvager, three minutes later

Flagship of the Central Fleet, HDIMS Mr Hissum was named for Snudgeskooge’s favourite stuffed animal. A large red snake, with black spots. And big fangs, to eat the Swababini, and a long tongue to sense the Wrinkly foe. A nuclear-powered supercarrier, Mr Hissum was moored peacefully with a notional crew when a small pleasure craft that had been weaving erratically for the middle of the night, a confused blip on the Port Control’s radar displays, powered at full speed into the military harbour sector. Preoccupied with the stories being regaled to them by the returning port security detail of their massacre by Car Park Six, they had left their stations unattended. Only a lone midshipman aboard the neighbouring cruiser Choon Doone would groggily notice the bobbing form of the substantially sized yacht as it slipped determinedly, lights doused, towards the largest of the titanic warships slumbering amidst the pride of the Snoodian fleet at rest.

The shockwave of the many multiple tonnes of explosives caused birds to rise in fields four-hundred miles inland. Windows in Port Hofenvager became dust in their frames, before scattering inwards at gale-force speeds, lacerating the now-recovering Nakerik, and leaving him with scarring that would require extensive, years-long cellular surgery to correct. The Commission into the attack would inform the God-Emperor that the cultists’ bomb had blown a hole as wide as a corvette into the Mr Hissum. Without a complement of sailors to conduct damage control, the flagship was doomed at the moment of detonation.

The originl post containing those last few paragraphs I mentioned above is here:

Snoodum wrote:Let's pretend this post is straight after the news of the coup in New Rogernomics.

Name Pronunciations: Teiran Jeiarak (T-ear-an (Jure as in de jure)-ak)
Kenerik Sirein (Ken-err-ik Sigh-rin)
Noerak Faersier (N-or-ak F-air-see-er)
Ginaric (Zhin-ar-ick)
Kutsenrog (Koot-sen-rog)

The coup in New Rogernomics was worrying. The Second Imperial Chamber, the room where Snudgeskooge held his most important impromptu meetings was currently filled with military and intelligence heads alongside the relevant government ministers. Satellite footage of the ongoing coup in New Rogernomics was playing on a large television screen as they all sat around the large Witwood table.

'The world will be looking for a strong stance, God-Emperor,’ said Sir Teiran Jeiarak, head of MOSID, wearing his deep blue suit with gold stitching and the MOSID crest pinned to his lapel in silver. ‘Snoodum needs to act quickly, force the world to look upon this as the terrible event it is. We cannot have Socialist schoolboys playing politics.’

Sir Kenerik Sirein, Minister for Foreign Affairs broke in, his large frame dominating that length of the table. His fist came down, brown handlebar moustache waxed to perfection. ‘I have to agree with my compatriot here,’ The man was loud whenever he spoke but now, he spoke quickly too, as he always did when some new threat had just showed itself. ‘We have to act fast and decisively. Not acting, as I urge with the south should not be considered. While the south can be left alone to squabble in squalor for scraps of seafood, the north needs strength and unity. These pipsqueaks that have taken the government hostage are like rats. Multiplying and multiplying if we don’t put a stop to them. And how do we do that, you ask? With fire! With Holy Snoodian Fire! The fire of napalm if we must! The fire of our 130mm cannon! The fire of Snoodian Freedom!’

Snudgeskooge made a stop motion and, after a few seconds, Kenerik sat down, smoothing his moustache. The God-Emperor smiled slightly at the man before standing. ‘Thank you for your enthusiasm Kenerik, I love it. Now, what are our options, Generals? These revolutionaries clearly didn’t count on the strong international response we intend to give them.’

Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS), Sir Noerak Faersier opened his folder. ‘Please all tun to page ninety-three. Here we have satellite images of important government infrastructure that need taking out quickly. Bridges, railway lines, buildings etc. I suggest we demand all Navy and Airforce personnel still loyal to the old government in New Rogernomics fly or sail over to Snoodum. If the military that is still loyal cannot bring equipment back to Snoodum, they should destroy it or, failing that, inform our Airforce where the equipment is so we can take it out and prevent it falling into Communist hands.’

The Director of the Thulian division of Imperial Snoodian Intelligence stood up as Noerak took a seat. ‘We put out a statement saying we support the old government and do not recognise the new one. I have the Fourth Propaganda Battalion of the Snudgeskooge’s Palace Herald printing anti-revolutionary leaflets in support of the government. Expect these to be able to be flown over in the coming days. I’ve worked out key targets for the leaflets and some enterprising agent suggested we drop sweets with them too. If you approve, we can have Deliciousness Inc. stop all production on anything but the new ‘Better dead than Red’ sweet my men have designed.’ The Director paused, remembered he still had more to say and stopped sitting down. ‘We need to send in agents to train and supply sympathisers loyal to the legitimate government in their fight for freedom. Snoodian agents and airforce will deliver aid and propaganda to the rebels to successfully prosecute the civil war.’ He said, half standing, half sitting. After a pause of seeing if he had left anything else out, he nodded his head in self-satisfaction and sat down. Snudgeskooge looked at him for a few seconds before turning to the rest of the table.

The Head of the Navy, Grand Imperial Admiral Ginaric had been absent-mindedly flicking through, not listening. By the point he turned to page two-hundred and four, he realised all eyes were on him. On looking up and taking a sip of water, his eyes darted between the faces. Setting the glass down slowly, the Admiral closed the folder and stood up, giving a slight cough before addressing the room. ‘All Rogernomics shipping will hereby be seized and stowed safely in Snoodum. Rogernomics crew will be interned, the rest will have to be retrieved by their host nations. Snoodum has no obligation to repatriate them.’

Snudgeskooge stopped the man from sitting down with a wave of his hand. ‘You may have no part in the delivering of sweets to Rogernomics and I appreciate your willingness to memorise the nearly four-hundred-page document but please pay more attention in future.’

The Admiral nodded, took another hesitant sip of water and sat down, trying desperately not to make a sound when tucking in his chair.

General Kutsenrog, Head of Thulian Operations, stood up, his chair hitting the floor with a bang! The table winced as the man launched straight into his speech. ‘We have to summon a coalition of the willing in order to liberate New Rogernomics from the clutches of Communism! Saying that, I don’t hold much hope for any useful response from the spineless and indolent dolts we call our neighbours! If we do not stop the Red Menace that menaces our freedom and New Rogernomics, our freedom shall be stripped from us and we will no longer be free! I call not just for containment as some may but boots on the ground! Leave it to our neighbours, we have better things to actually be doing but we should definitely be the ones to say we came up with a coalition of the willing! We—'

The God-Emperor had heard enough of the man. He pulled an antique flintlock pistol from his belt, and cocked it loudly, ‘General, please refrain from talking anymore.’ The General stuttered for a second, gave a sharp salute after a second and picked his chair back up, taking a seat. He had already finished his water so he surreptitiously swapped glasses with the man next to him.

Snudgeskooge chugged a jug of orange juice. ‘And the full invasion plan?’

The Head of the Airforce, a stout, no-nonsense man stood up, having calculated how best to move his chair without making any noise while maintaining peak efficiency spoke out. ‘I’ve authorised the advanced preparations to go into effect for the First through Fifteenth Air Armies. Ground forces will be supplied by the Nineteenth through Twenty-Third Airborne Armies, and the army is prepared to reinforce by sea if needed. Combined with the Thulian Grand Fleet and the rebels, we expect a full takeover within a month and the restoration of the government.’

His Divine Imperial Majesty had started to regret the orange juice power move so simply nodded and motioned for everyone to leave.

After a few minutes of him sitting down, the door was opened by a servant. ‘Morning, your Divine Imperial Majesty, God-Emperor Snudgeskooge, but I’ve been asked to turn on the TV.’

Snudgeskooge nodded, and tossed the man the remote, too ill to do it himself. The servant caught it with ease. On the screen, a reporter stood in front of Sluluberra Station outside of which dozens of emergency vehicles were pulled up. The reporter spoke quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the carnage behind. ‘The seven thirty-eight train from Floysus Hill to Dochums Park has exploded with around three hundred people on board. Paramedics are already here and civilian vehicles are being requisitioned as ambulances. Counter-terrorism police are waiting in the wings to secure the station again. All other stations on the Imperial Line have been evacuated and the stations swamped with Counter-terror officers.’

Snudgeskooge turned to the servant. ‘Get me the Minister for Home Affairs, bring the CIGS back and get us some more water.’ The servant nodded and rushed off. Snudgeskooge got up again and stood behind his chair, muting the TV. The morning had only just begun for most people, but the God-Emperor hadn’t slept. He doubted he get any for a while longer given these new developments.

Keen trident

I regret to inform you all that Henry the moose died this morning due to organ failure. We'll be holding a service in memory of him later the evening. Please attend and wear your best clothes.

Of course.... moose stew will be served after.

Treadwellia, Snoodum, Demonos, Austria-hungarian alliance, and 3 othersAshoy, Loftegen 3, and Keen trident

New adelsin wrote:I regret to inform you all that Henry the moose died this morning due to organ failure. We'll be holding a service in memory of him later the evening. Please attend and wear your best clothes.

Of course.... moose stew will be served after.

I'm sorry for your loss. I will of course be there.

Snoodum, Demonos, Austria-hungarian alliance, and Loftegen 3

New adelsin wrote:I regret to inform you all that Henry the moose died this morning due to organ failure. We'll be holding a service in memory of him later the evening. Please attend and wear your best clothes.

Of course.... moose stew will be served after.

I will be there for you and shall come bearing gifts.

Loftegen 3

Austria-hungarian alliance

New adelsin wrote:I regret to inform you all that Henry the moose died this morning due to organ failure. We'll be holding a service in memory of him later the evening. Please attend and wear your best clothes.

Of course.... moose stew will be served after.

Truly a sad day, we will fly the flag at half-mast over the archduke's palace.

Mzeusia and Loftegen 3

New adelsin wrote:I regret to inform you all that Henry the moose died this morning due to organ failure. We'll be holding a service in memory of him later the evening. Please attend and wear your best clothes.

Of course.... moose stew will be served after.

I will surely visit to pay my last respects. The flags in Ashoy today will be flown at half-mast. Rest In Peace

Cianlandia and Loftegen 3

New adelsin wrote:I regret to inform you all that Henry the moose died this morning due to organ failure. We'll be holding a service in memory of him later the evening. Please attend and wear your best clothes.

Of course.... moose stew will be served after.

RIP. I'll be there.

Cianlandia, Crastine, and Loftegen 3

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