Angus O'Conor, who up until this point has been listening carefully to everything being said by his compatriots, enters the dialogue.
"Well then, gentlemen, if I may.
First of all, my qualifications for Consul. What could those be, now? To tell you the truth, there's many of you here who have been active in the Molly Republic far longer than me, some of you even got a proper schooling and could hold your own in the Bretonian Parliament, I'd fathom. And me, well...I can find my way around a Newgate cell block, that I can for sure. But hear me out, lads, because I've got plenty to say about our lovely little Republic.
Right, I believe that this organisation of ours has lost a bit of its edge over the years; we've settled into a routine and we're too comfortable with it. On top of that, the Corsair and Kusari issue needs a lot of thinking through on our part. We have the heart to fight, sure, but what we really need now is tact and careful planning. In my few short months under Daniel's direction, I put much of my time into studying history, both contemporary and ancient, in an effort to find some sort of model for us to follow. But it seems our situation is rather unique in history.
Who are we? The Republic, and the Mollys as a whole, are of Bretonian blood. We model ourselves after the Ancient Irish people of Sol, but in reality there is little ancestry between us and them. Nay, we're more like the Puritans who came to North America to escape the persecution of the old British Empire. But the Puritans followed the calling of their strict and righteous God -- who do we follow? It's not gods that drove us here. It was BMM and Edmund Graves, pushing our people too far until we decided to strike back...remember, the original members of the Founders Day Revolt were mutineers, not statesmen. They knew how to fight, but maintaining a Molly nation was something entirely different. It couldn't survive on hatred of Bretonia alone.
Well then, it's well near seventy years since the Revolt, and somehow this little experiment that we call the Molly Republic is still alive and functioning. And how have we gotten here? In the beginning, we didn't have much food or supplies, just whatever we could scrape off from the Hood. We had every chance to come back to the Bretonians with our tails between our legs and begged for forgiveness and a chance to return to our old homes. The treacherous Union of Gold, lackeys of the Queen, almost brought it to that. But then we discovered Londonderry; now look at our fortunes! Expansion, beyond the contested borders of Dublin and into the bountiful borderworlds -- expansion is the reason why we're still here. And further expansion will be the key to not just our survival, but our prosperity.
So in answer to the question, "who are we?" I say, we are the outcasts of Bretonia, kicked from the nest and forced into separation from our brothers and sisters. Some of us may still harbor feelings of kinship with Bretonia, but rest assured that these feelings will fade with time. We are on our own now.
With that all in mind, let's take a look at the issues we're facing right now. I'll start with the Kusari-Bretonian War. Now, Colin says that we should ally with Bretonia in the hope that the Queen grants us independence in exchange. I can tell you all that independence will never be granted to us by those stuffing eejits in Parliament; they're all rigid stiffs who wouldn't negotiate to save their wives from rapists. Let me paint you a more accurate picture of what would happen should we assist the Brets against Kusari: we will lose lives and money defending the Queen and weaken ourselves to either a crackdown from Bretonian forces (once the war is over) or a massive Corsair invasion as soon as they smell our weakness. No, this war is working to our favor; while Bretonia's eyes are elsewhere, we are free to sell our gold and build up our fleets.
Now, let's turn our attention to the Corsairs. I tell you all, they are a much greater threat to us now than the Bretonians. Why? They are vicious, smart, their numbers are practically endless. They don't know what beaurocracy is, so they're efficient, while Bretonia needs permission from Parliament before it can wipe its own arse. In Omega 49, they've gathered up a swarm, just itching to get at us -- but we will strike first. We have powerful allies in the Red Hessians; our joint shipbuilding with the Rogues has granted us the best bombers in all of Sirius; we've got tremendous gold reserves. If we open the offensive on the Corsairs, possibly in Omega 49, possibly elsewhere, we can push them back and secure our territory in Dublin and Londonderry."
Angus' long-winded speech came to an end at last.
"Well fekkin' eh, that took a bit longer than I planned!"
I will agree that the corsairs are too close to us, and i've been trying to say that we need to hit them hard.
i for one, dont plan on doing much resting untill they have been punished. punished untill they leave us the hell alone.
it seems that we need new leader ship, and i know the feelings of a great many lads my age, and many of them feel strongly about it. hell, they'd be worthless if they dident. i feel that i'd be able to do it... and i want to try...
' Wrote:<span style="font-family:Century Gothic">Violence is Golden</span>
Helmut Pajo, the Landwirtrechtbewegung pilot, had been aboard the station for a little while. He had been invited, and cleared to land, but was waiting for a lull in the conversation. He didn't want to be seen as intruding. He felt out of place. This wasn't quite foreign soil, but it was close to it. The familiarity of the stale, cheaply reconditioned air and the second-hand modules of the station were the only things relaxing him. Apparently the Junkers had the same use to the Mollies as they did to the Landwirtrechtbewegung.
Right now, the broad, unfamiliar accents had died down, so Helmut paced towards the table and with a short nod, began talking.
"Men," he started, "My name is Helmut Pajo. I come to you all the way from Rheinland. But although the physical distance our two peoples is very great, I believe we are very close in other ways. Our histories may be different, but it seems at our hearts we are both working men, working men who have been forced in to a new and strange life by greed, oversight, lack of compassion and corrupt authority. We are painted as criminals by those we were forced to abandon, but we cannot let that bother us for we are the uncorruptable voice of the common man.
"I found myself in your space delivering goods on behalf of mutual friends of ours. And it this I wish to talk to you about. Although we can not spare the manpower to help you directly in your battles, and I am sure you cannot do the same for us, what we can do is open our doors to each other and increase our mutual strength and prosperity through trade. That which is expensive in Bretonia is cheap in Rheinland, and vice-versa. Whilst there are junkers and independent smugglers who frequent our stations both, I cannot fully trust them. They work only for themselves, care only for profit. But we are men of causes. Although the production of the Landwirtrechtbewegung is modest, we have ties to many powerful and righteous groups. We have access to the facilities and goods of all the good people of Rheinland, men who fight corporate corruption in its birthplace, Liberty, and even the Coalition itself. And you yourselves, are famed even in Rheinland for your gold, which is greatly desired by many. So I come to you with a proposition: the opening of trade between our two peoples; a strengthening of ties and influence across the Omegas that seperate us; goodwill and assistance whenever possible; and a safe haven when far from home. Although our home system is far more modest than yours, we are currently embarking on a grand project to house our civilian population, and when it is completed, your people would be welcomed and your goods paid for handsomely. If your cargo-ships were ever in Rheinland, we would assist them, if you need supplies, we will bring them.
"So. What say you, men of Dublin?"
"Patrick and the whole Molly Nation listened very carefully to every each and one candidate. Communication pads were already distributed all over Molly bases for voting and it was only a matter of time now. Everyone was waiting for his speech. His pad started to beep, his eyebrow rose and he slowly stood up and walked towards the platform. He cleaned his throat and started to speak. Dear Friends, you all have been waiting for this. In my hand here is the future of the Molly Nation. All arguments were excellent, it shows that our candidates deeply care about our cause and will represent us whole molly nation as best as they can. "Patrick took a sip of water, and opened the results" Following candidates are elected as Councilors;
1.Colin
2.Angus
3.Liam
Congratulation gentlemen, i hope you will make us all proud."Patrick shook hands will all of them, and went out of the room with his friend Michael.Patrick: I do hope they are up to the challenge my old friend. Michael: They are, they are. Patrick: Nevertheless i will be keeping an eye on them, hahaha."Their figures slowly disappeared behind the pubs door.
"Michael Pointed to the Landwirtrechtbewegung pilot that was sitting in the corner." Patrick: Ahh that chap offered us something didn't he? Alright lets go and give him an answer"Patrick strode to his table, his strong elderly figure sat across him." Good day lad, I am Patrick i heard what you have offered us. This is an interesting offer, it would do us both good if we opened a trade routes between our two little nations. You have what we need and we have what you need. If it was some other time i would be in liberty to accept it this instant but now you will have to take your proposal to our new elected Councilors. But be assured i will support you and my vote means a lot in Molly Republic. Feel free to stay as long as you wish, this will be your home for the next few days. I will consult with Council as soon as possible and give you the answer. "Patrick waved to the bartender to bring one more round, and called his friend to the table." We can't let this chap drink alone my old friend. For future cooperation!!!
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