I have read it, but sadly I cannot understand all the civilized words, as my native language isn't English. I should read more English books...
-- 5 -- “We hail these patriots as the future of this great land. For just as it was millennia past so shall our planet again be ruled by a single, global Empire of peace, where none have need nor bear the burden of sorrows. It is for this purpose we commission these new young men and women as officers in our grand Imperial Legions. We send them forth not as soldiers of war but as ambassadors of our civilized way of life to the rebellious barbarians in the Jekotian provinces. With strength and virtue our righteous forces will sweep away the…” Borodin began to block out the rhetoric emanating from the podium far to his front-left. It had been nearly forty-five minutes since he and his 300 fellow graduates had marched in columns onto the parade grounds on which they were to be officially welcomed as officers in the Imperial Legions. Surrounding the manicured fields thousands of adoring citizens, relatives, friends and politicians roared and cheered for their newest heroes and champions. Reaching at least fifty feet into the air on all sides the human filled bleachers looked more like screaming tidal waves of grays and blues than a celebratory crowd of onlookers. Borodin didn’t flinch nor would he for hours were he required to do so. Basic infantry training had instilled a killer instinct, a strength and skill ingrained by the best a global Empire could offer. This barley prepared him for the riggers of officer training which dragged on for an additional four months and opened his eyes to tactics, strategy, command, demolitions, economics, languages, culture society, anything and everything an Imperial officer might need to not only take a swath of land but to keep and administer it in the name of the Empire. So extensive was the non-military portion of officer training many rising youth opted for the Academy rather than post higher education. “How often have we extended our hands to our less fortunate neighbors? How long have we poured valuable resources into the wastelands of the Jekotian provinces in a desperate attempt to tame their savage ways? How many of their poor and sick have been fed and cured by Imperial generosity? Our mercy has bordered on the divine in nature but sadly, just as loving parents must discipline unruly children for their own good, so too must we smack the hands of this pubescent Northern Faction…” Within his mind Borodin snickered, Pubescent indeed, I’ve lost three friends this week alone Those enterprising youth vying for free education were finding their careless use of the military for schooling rather than as a vessel for serving the nation had become a thorn in their sides as war drug out with the resilient Northern forces. How many had been impaled on those jagged plains in the northern offensive? As the Southern Press had speculated the major push in the north had gained but a few hundred kilometers before slowing to a halt in the face of redundant defensive positions, impassible terrain and what appeared to be countless waves of Jekotian militia. This in and of itself was a good sign. Imperial forces had hit so hard and so fast the rebels had found it difficult to field properly trained regulars and were forced instead to arm willing citizens and sent them to the front. Now would be the time to break through near Koln pass, or, Borodin reasoned, begin an island hopping campaign from the south. He had learned only days earlier that most of the Imperial air forces had been roused from storage and would soon be available for deployment, augmented within months by fresh models from the resurrected defense industry. “You’re sons and daughters have gone now, for no longer are they your own but rather belong to each and every one of us. Each man our son, each woman our daughter. It falls to us to continue their education, to defend them from evil, to steer them in their growth, to feed them when they are hungry and to clothe them when they are cold. Our global family is united…” The words again faded in and out, Borodin had practiced “safe learning” since he was old enough to read, his father had seen to that. With a senator for a father Borodin himself had been smiled upon and blessed with the rank of Lt. Commander, no less than two squads under his command and a seat at his Commanders table for advisement; a necessary part of any military/political fast track. Sadly Borodin’s first commander was one of great fame, just not the good kind. Having once held the rank of High Commander, Commander Snyder had been demoted early in the war for loosing four entire provinces to the newly violent Jekotians, along with their garrisons, five commanders in all. It was this foothold that gave the Northern Faction the momentum it needed to retake most of the Jekotians former Empire before rapid response forces brought them to a standstill. Commander Snyder along with another four commanders under High Commander Samson were being deployed in the south to push back the Faction’s beachheads, perhaps in preparation for an island hopping campaign. Snyder, no doubt, hoped to regain some of his former prominence on the field of battle, out shining his peers and again advancing through the ranks. As one of his advisors, and perhaps the most skilled among them, it fell to Borodin to make that dream a reality. “And so” the spec on the podium announced, “we bow to these blessed officers of justice. How fortunate they are to be given the opportunity to serve in the fields rather than being relegated to the fields and factories like the rest of us.” A wave of light laughter. “My fellow officers,” He concluded, “Welcome to the family, I solute you!” Thunderous applause again filled the arena as the hundreds of new officers cheered and tossed their caps into the open sky above. Borodin remained still, allowing only a satisfied, confident smile to creep across his face. Lets get to work
A video...ok then, all I need is actors, a large budget and filming equipment. Read it in peices, like a book.
Excellent. Now streaming Don Megel's Empires Stories on podcast, narrated by Patrick Stewart's hamster.
I Skimmed. Can shin make a movie about this? I would but i dont know how to demo, I'd Gladly Dedicate a couple hours in to doing skits, for the demo. We need a date, time, Server IP.
I requested a map to be made based on this in the mapping section, I will make all the props needed... A mapper is all that is needed, but no one seems to step up...
I Know somone whos looking for map ideas hes so, so. But in the mean time we can make a movie to inspire a fan base for this new map , Also empires needs a video about how the story started.
-- 6 -- “Damn-it!” The small data pad flew threw the air for but a moment before smashing into the cold steel of the office wall, its multicolored insides showering the house plant below with debris. The High Commander was displeased. “How long must I be haunted by these animals?” He raged on, waving his arms about and pacing around his rather large contemporary desk. “I refuse to believe that refugees from a forgotten era can stand before the most powerful military force this planet has ever known!” Commander Nichols stood a little straighter; tensing her muscles in response to her superior’s fury. She had learned only an hour prior about the Jekotian break through in the south, three cities falling like dominos before the resurgent rebel hoards in the same amount of days. What remained of the garrison that had held the factionalist at bay had routed further south in hopes of meeting up with advanced elements of the mobile Brenodi airborne divisions sent to push the Jekotians into the sea. Sadly all they had encountered was Commander Snyder’s forces who found it better to skip around the enemy rather than engage them. In the far north the Brenodi forces remained stalled after advancing only a few dozen miles and in the center, near the Ancient Imperial Capitol, Brenodi forces had actually began to loose ground. It had not been a good week. “What the hell is Snyder doing anyway?” The older man roared, “His men are fighters not track stars!” Nichols swallowed hard before offering what she hoped would be consoling information. “His fellow Commanders” she offered with strength, “have established a defensive line to Snyder’s rear and readied a landing behind the Jekotian lines.” She paused. “The Northern Faction will be trapped” She concluded with pride. High Commander Marion glared at his naive subordinate, “In light of our adversary’s latest accomplishments” he said slowly from between gritted teeth, his lumbering frame leaning over his now disarrayed desk. “I would not be as hasty to declare victory.” “We have a larger problem High Commander.” Came a steely voice, its smooth, calculated patience sharply contrasting the rough exasperated rants of Marion. The smaller man had remained standing off to the side through out his comrades fit of anger, his mouth shut, his body ridged, save for a single coin he absently flipped over and over in one of his hands. Nichols couldn’t make out its year or value, not that it was particularly important at the moment. Marion let some of his frustration out in a long sigh before taking a seat behind his desk. He sat a moment, his eyes locked on some point amongst the pure white surface of his glossy desk. He seemed at once transformed from rage to listless uncomfortable defeat. Another moment passed in silence before he finally asked the question he obviously knew the answer to. “What might that be?” Nichols noticed her superior’s curt tone. She had seen the smaller man in his office before, normally before or after her commanding officer descended into a foul disposition. Although he bore no uniform she could tell the man had some amount of control over Marion, and further more the High Commander despised and loathed it. “The southern press” the man answered, leaning against the wall closest to him, “Has been feeding the populace what has really been happening in the conquered provinces during our…” He paused as if searching for the right term for the Imperial occupation, “‘stay’. Public opinion is beginning to shift and with our recent setbacks in the south and center, pressure may begin to build to come to peace with our foes.” Nichols noticed the man didn’t mention the stalled front in the North but thought it prudent to remain quiet in his presence. “I could divert divisions to clear the southern continent” Marion offered half heartedly, “It wouldn’t take long.” The man shook his head, the coin still rotating within his gloved hand, “That would…displease a number of my superiors. Such a move would be seen as naked aggression on our part not to mention the loss in trade revenue. No, no, an invasion would not do.” Marion shook his head and swiveled his chair about to face his “guest.” “That could be said about any action taken against the south” He retorted, “and we can’t jam their broadcasts.” The man smiled as if a child had just pointed out that the sky was blue. “If” he began, still looking at the worn coin in his hands, “we can not stop the news; we must change it so that it is favorable to us. We must make the people see these Jekotians as the subhuman devils they are. We must…distract them while giving the media something we don’t mind them reporting on.” Nichols saw a genuinely puzzled look spread across Marion’s face. A military man of much renown, Marion could maneuver divisions like a master strategiest but he was anything but a politician nor a political expert. Clearly the man had lost him. “What did you have in mind?” The man stilled the coin and looked up at his host, the genuine smile broadening across his darkened face. “I’m going to need one of your prisoners…”
