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A Tale of Two Peoples

Sarah Tintagyl

National Election of the Ruling Party in Greater Zimbabwe  

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Since the collapse of the nation of Rhodesia decades ago, the people of southern African had lived in what seemed to be an eternal interim period between the states of the Congo and Northern Africa and the Madagascar Regime of Arctica, neither of which the people of the Zimbabwe Basin wished to call home. The history of this region had not been kind to the native Africans, years passed during the oppressive regimes of Transvaal which placed Africans as second and third class citizens in contrast to their white countrymen. It was not surprising that following the nuclear attacks against the Botha regime that many native Africans secretly cheered the demise of the 'Old Man' and hoped that the collapse of the First Transvaal would usher in an era of peace and equality for the European immigrants and the African natives. Unfortunately it would not be true as a second, thought short lived, Transvaal regime would arise leading to a war between the Madagascans and the new European upstarts.

The war lasted years but neither the death toll nor the destruction would amount to much as the Second Transvaal regime quickly feel only to be replaced by the short lived 'miracle state' of Rhodesia and the laissez-faire style of administration brought to Africa by the Madagascans. Now, in the unorganized territory between Arctica and the Central African States, the Zimbabwe Basin was beginning to shift as new voices began to cry out, attempting to take leadership. There were many smaller factions but these voices slowly began to melt into two parties which were seemingly divided more by race and culture than class or political belief. Furthermore, both parties represented far extremes of the political spectrum, whether an amalgamation of Socialist thinkers who sided with the native Africans or a collection of Martenist-Style Fascists who followed the traditions preached by the previous Transvaal regimes.

As time passed the two factions began to reveal themselves to the people of the Zimbabwe Basin, Botswana, and Namibia, all territories previously cultivated and oppressed by the Transvaal Regimes, all containing both loyalty and discontent to the previous regimes and the potential future regimes. These two factions represented the future of the Lands from the coast of Namibia to the jungles of Zimbabwe. The Transvaal-Afrikaner Front, whose purpose was to create a nation within the unorganized territory that would model the previous states of Transvaal, embark on a campaign of Afrikaner nationalism and order to bring names such as Botha and Van Matthus back to popular conversation and make South Africa a force in both Africa and in the world once again. In contrast, the United Greater Zimbabwe Front, was formed as an exclusive African organization. Their purpose, though not to rid southern Africa of European Immigrants to create a government based on equality and thus rendering whites as a minority race within Greater Zimbabwe's borders.

Once the separate fronts were announced, citizens of the unorganized territory began to head towards the cities to place their support, unaware that every vote would unleash a storm that would shake southern Africa to its core.

From the tribes of the Himba in northern Namibia to the cities of Harare, decades of African history would be written once again between the European Settler and the African Native.

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[b]The Moob[/b]

"Dellion, it's settled, I'm going, I founded the Legion to prevent this exact sort of thing. We dreamed for years of washing away the Afrikaner taint from Africa with their own blood if needed. This is the last chance I have to see that dream come true," Denard snarled as he loaded up his pair of matching ivory handled .45 pistols, a machete, his body armor, and his other personal effects.

"Bob, you are 75 years old, you suffered a major heart attack a few years ago, and your wife died just last year. Why not sit this one out and let the younger one take up the call?" Dellion asked though he already knew the answer.

"This is not the New Legion's call of duty, they've grown beyond this, they are different. Jeb is a good son, a good leader, but he grew up in a different era, they have concerns of their own. This is our calling and I aim to see it through," Denard concluded his comments as he slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the nearest transport center to return to Earth.

Dellion kept pace with Denard as they walked down wildly painted corridors of the Legion Lunar Moon Base. The standard Lunar Republic theme had been quickly replaced by the murals of the Legion as the older men and their children put their own art work on the walls. More than one of them depicted scenes of death and triumph. One particular one forced Denard to stop as he laid his hand upon the painted face of Major General Charles White, who died in a nuclear attack in Austria. "Do you ever think of White?"

"Often," Dellion replied.

"He was a son to me," Denard mumbled.

"You've had a lot of sons in this Legion, what made him so special?" Dellion asked.

"You know when I was being worked on by the lunatics in Sudan? Those Kickapoo fruitcakes?"

"I do remember, yes," Dellion nodded as he examined the dying visage of the Major General who is depicted in a field of fire and walking dead men due to the over-exposure of radiation.

"I knew you'd never give up, I knew Deltrane would never surrender, I knew Mustapha wouldn't ever quit, I knew all of you would fight like animals to see the Kickapoo sociopaths dead and in the grave. But I also knew it was White would see to it that I was rescued. You lot knew your duty to the Legion, but White took things personally, and he was just different. He was better than us all and died before his time. I fully expected him to take the reins of the Legion and to make it into something wonderful."

"I never knew you felt that way," Dellion commented.

"Oh my friend, when I saw your face in Greenly's living room I felt I died all over again, don't ever think I ever forgot you came to get me in person after those Australians found me. I never forgot that, but we both know had White not pushed it through, you would have fought the war as I would have expected you to do so. It was your duty to the Legion and Sudan, I expected nothing less from you. Don't cry or anything, I'm going down there to do my duty and to die a happy man," Denard ordered Dellion.

"Yes sir," Dellion replied.

"Let's go," Mad Dog Bob Denard stated evenly as he and his friend walked the rest of the way to soon to depart shuttle. Once upon the shuttle Denard quietly shuts his eyes and began to pray softly to himself. Prayer beads ran through his calloused hands as he softly quoted a surah or two to himself. He reminded himself it had been a good run, a good life, and now he contented himself with the idea that quite possibly he'll have a good death to go with it all. As he sat there he looked out the porthole of the shuttle and found himself smiling as a crotchety looking Mustapha Bari, one armed Deltrane, Dellion, Suwi Duvi, Chellani, Ben Greenly, Shani Morai, and two dozen other long suffering and long serving Legionnaires began to form up to board the shuttle before the weight of their equipment caused them to fall over. He closed his eyes again and smiled once more as he knew that a good death was best done in the company of great friends and he was most certainly going to be in the best of company.

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The immediate days and weeks following the election's beginning showed a distinctive divide not only between the Native and European populations, but also distinctions between urbanized and rural populations. Those who lived in the cities tended to believe in the policies of the TAF while farmers, miners, villagers, and large populations of tribal people saw their only hope laying with the UGZF. Both political fronts saw their cause as supreme and that a future with the opposing party would be unbearable and would do anything necessary to eliminate their opponent's power base.

It fell to a man named Reiner van Graan to organize the Afrikaans to assert control over what was rightfully theirs. Living in the city of Harare, Van Graan found himself in the middle of a potential explosion between poor natives in the city streets and the wealthier white elite which had maintained control during the Transvaal Regimes and had staved off the possibility of reform during the creation of Rhodesia. But with the United Front gaining support throughout the territories of what would become Greater Zimbabwe, a strong fear was pushed into the hearts of many landed and corporate aristocrats. Van Graan himself found the air smelling like powder and the rain that fell, thick and heavy, like blood. Within his home, the graying haired man placed a well-tailored suit over his broad shoulders and adjusted the orange pin which glistened on the lapel and smiled.

He walked down into a large dinning room where already the sweet sounds of violins and mindless chatter relaxed his nerves. Beautiful women in sleek dresses walked through the hallways and cigar smoke wafted up towards the ceiling. By the time that Van Graan steeped onto the marble floor at the foot of the stairs he already felt a strong hand take him by the shoulder.

"There's a man that we've all been looking for." Said Pieter Venter, a middle-aged man with sparkling blue eyes and bright blonde hair. "Everyone has been waiting for you to shoot billiards, Reiner, or would you rather try and court our wives?"

Reiner laughed and took the younger man's hand. "I'm a gentleman, Pieter, a gentleman would never do such a thing. Come, let's not keep the men waiting." He said and turned with the younger Venter towards a doorway blocked by thick mahogany doors. Inside the cigar smoke was incredibly thick as was the smell of brandy. Two black men in red valet suits waited near the door to present the two men with glasses of brandy and pool sticks while a larger, more robust, white man with a bald head backed away from the billiard table with a smile on his face and a fat cigar in his mouth.

"The man of the hour," he said towards Reiner, "Have you come to serenade all of us with your silver tongue, Reiner?"

"That was not the plan at first, Mr. Vooster, but I do think you'll like what I have to say." Reiner said and took the glass of brandy silently from the valet as he watched the other white men sit down either on bar stools or on the billiard table itself. "You are of course all worried now with the recent election reports, the blacks and their 'independence' front pushing beyond our own." He laughed and took a sip of brandy, "I can assure each one of you that there is nothing to worry about and both myself and Mr. Venter have taken all possible problems into consideration."

"And what is that supposed to mean, Reiner," said Mr. Vooster with a chuckle. "The darkies are already running through the streets with those black and green banners of theirs, you'd think they won an election."

"To believe this election is anything more than a farce," said Reiner, "Is stupidity. No matter who wins, the other political front will not recognize their opponent's validity. But gentlemen, we are the minority, it is we who are the oppressed." He laid a bony figure against the green padding of the billiard table. "And that is why we must strike against these natives in the same way that heroes such as Botha and even the immortal Kaiser struck back against insurgency and communist revolution." The men nodded, seemingly bowing their heads at the mentioned names. "The natives must be reminded that it us who takes care of them and their burden is placed upon an ever shrinking minority."

"And we have the capabilities to remind them of their place?" asked Vooster.

"It will not be the cleanest way, but it will be done," chuckled Reiner and clasped his hands behind his back.

"And what about those two?" said Venter, narrowing his eyes at the valets.

"Georg and Adam?" the gray-haired man laughed, "They wouldn't say a thing and even if they did," there was suddenly the echo of mortar explosions from far off. "I had already planned this attack before any of you had arrived. We will push the United Front and all of their supporters out of our cities with force."

But beyond the closed mahogany doors, a pair of gray eyes flashed open in terror before running down the gilded halls of the Van Graan Estate.

Edited by Sarah Tintagyl
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"Haven't they heard of paved roads? Or airports closer to the city?" The complaint rang loudly in the SUV. The driver, a dark-skinned native, remained silent. [url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-It1vGMfNbeU/T-3eOCdv6wI/AAAAAAAAEwI/GwniR0qaHc8/s1600/newsroom3."]Mackenzie Huggins[/url], foreign field producer for ACN, looked at the man who had spoken and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Would you stop it, Nick? This is an important story, and we need the best here." The SUV lurched as it went over another bump. Mackenzie caught site of the ACN satellite truck behind them slowing down to go over the bump carefully before continuing on.

"Important story? Please Mackenzie." [url="http://img2.timeinc.net/people/i/2004/04/specials/sma03/doyou/dquaid.jpg "]Nick Donaldson[/url], the lead foreign correspondent for American Cable News scoffed. "No one back home is going to care about what happens in this little, backwater nation." He pulled out a small pocket mirror and started fixing a hair that was invisibly out of place. "Hell, half of our viewers can't even pick this place out on a map."

"Then that's why we're here to educate them. To show them there are things going on outside of North America, Europe, Asia."

"You realize you just named three out of the world's seven continents, and one of the remaining four is mostly uninhabitable, right?"

"Oh shut up, Nick."

"Easy now... not in front of the newbie." Nick looked over to the young man sitting across from them, a black, bulky case clutched tightly in his lap. "What's your name again, son?"

"Austin, sir. [url="http://i2.listal.com/image/3170674/600full-louis-cordice.jpg"]Austin Rodgers[/url]." Mackenzie spoke next.

"You do realize that you can put the light case down, don't you Austin?"

"Uh, yes ma'am. Just trying to keep them safe."

"Ma'am? How old do you think I am."

"Don't answer that, Austin. It's a trap." Another bump saw the young man clutching the case tighter. Mackenzie sighed.

"Austin, could you have pointed out this country on a blank map?" The man looked at her for a second, looked down, and then shook his head.

"Don't be so hard on the kid, Mack. I couldn't have named half the places we've been to before we went there." That voice was [url="http://images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/10400000/Hugo-Weaving-hugo-weaving-10490570-1600-1200.jpg"]Jarvis Matlock[/url], one of the satellite truck operators. Riding with him behind the SUV was the other truck operator, [url="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTM4MDcwMTU2NF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMzMyMjg0Nw@@._V1._SY314_CR2,0,214,314_.jpg"]Edward Burgundy[/url], and the former military man turned cameraman, [url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZDDBjRzIU_c/TS3OJkOOaFI/AAAAAAAACio/yvRYGOmHN6Y/s1600/woody-harrelson.jpg"]Alan Walters[/url].

The two vehicle convoy moved through the city of Windhoek, and Mackenzie could practically feel the tension. She looked over at Austin. "Is this your first time away from North America, Austin?" He nodded his head. Mackenzie started to worry a little. She didn't want to bring a kid into a potentially hostile situation. The SUV stopped, the sat truck pulling up behind it. The driver turned, and opened his mouth, speaking the first words he had all day.

"You're here." The Windhoek Hilton.

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Africa had a reputation of being a quiet, sleepy continent when compared to the other bloodbaths abroad. Many Africans had taken to living under the unobtrusive yet watchful African Union and its military-political arm, the African Union Security Forces (AUSF). Africans within the African Union's sphere of influence were thus content in a large part to stay within sheltered protectorate regions or to move to join one of the AU's member states.

Things were good for a very long time, and news coming from one of the few tinderboxes in Africa made the AU and AUSF leaderships want to keep it that way.

While no formal local government or leadership, welcome by the AU should it appear, had announced its take over of the affected parts of southern Africa, word of mouth seemed to suggest two political parties vying for future control might be drawing their lines along ethnic boundaries.

Such a conflict, if started would be absolutely unacceptable. Which is why the AUSF immediately began increasing the visibility and presence of its personnel within the protectorate two-fold.

Edited by Executive Minister
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Normally the arrival of African Union Special Forces would lead to a lessening of tension of the two hostile fronts, if power between the UGZF and the TAF had not been perfectly split within the protectorate. The large cities in the Zimbabwe region now found themselves in a state of almost civil war as Reiner Van Graan's thugs attacked district headquarters and homes belonging to the UGZF and their members. These attacks, which happened in the middle of the night, set the city of Harare on fire as Nativist Africans rose up in anger at what seemed to be a distinctively European-Immigrant attack. These moments of violence only erupted further when followers of the UGZF launched their own raids against protectorate citizens loyal to the restoration of Transvaal and the resurgence of Botha-esque policies in government. It was not long, however, before these confrontations changed from thugs from the two political fronts heaving at each other to distinct racial attacks between blacks and whites within the cities. If Van Graan wanted to perpetuate a race war, he nearly had his wish.

This was not to say that every single citizen of either European or African descent sided with the two fronts. Outside of the cities, most people believed that if the UGZF took over the protectorate as a formal government, Greater Zimbabwe would become a prosperous country. But it also worried many with its fiery rhetoric based on not only the racial struggle of oppressed Africans, but also the struggle of those rural European-Descendants who received little help from an incredibly fascist Transvaal. It seemed to many that the final take over of the countryside would either be a Communist-style or a Fascist-style regime and talk began of creating a third option to bring balance to a divided people and potential nation.

These kinds of thoughts was precisely what brought Adrian van Graan driving across the countryside towards Windhoek. As the son of Reiner van Graan, Adrian had responsibilities to both his family and to the beliefs his father represented. He was expected to be politically aware of the racial and ethnic tension within the protectorate and he was supposed to remember, even though he had not been born, the greatness that was the Botha Regime in Transvaal. But after coming back from touring some of the most prestigious universities throughout the world, Adrian felt that his mind was literally tearing at the seams. His schools in Harare taught that Apartheid kept the Tranvaaler state from collapsing and that while segregation existed nations prospered because everyone knew their select place. He was taught to look at nations such as Nordland in comparison, an empire which dominated Europe and kept a very strict caste system, which in turn led to its prosperity and strength. In contrast other universities taught quite the opposite and that nations like Transvaal barely survived in the world, not being tampered with because of their poverty stricken lower castes than their infinite prosperity. It shocked him to know that nations like Nordland rarely survived decades, collapsing under their own traditionalist weight.

Now he was racing towards Namibia, praying that he would beat the storm which was already growing from Windhoek as UGZF forces clashed with the TAF on the open streets. He was done with the battle between black and white, between communist and fascist, and as the heir to Apartheid philosophy, he had been committing a mortal sin under his father's nose for a year. Entering into the outskirts of Windhoek, Adrian came to a road covered with potholes and shoddy attempts to pave the asphalt. He parked his sedan in front of a small wooden building with a corroded roof and stepped out onto the cracked stone and dead grass as the sun began to set.

"Mandisa," he shouted out and the sound of a dog yelping echoed through the air. A light turned on in the house and the screen door opened as a black woman walked out. Her skin was almost a red color from years of applying natural sunscreen made of clay and herbs to her body and her hair, which hung in long braids, was covered in the same reddish paste.

"Adrian? What are you doing here?" She said crossing arms from the crisp night air, standing in a shirt and shorts.

"Get your things, we need to get out of here."

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On the ground, violence would met with brutal precision. The Aeon militants that comprised their portion of the AUSF ([sub][b][i]OOC: Ie: not all the protectorate troops are mine AU people, you can RP what you want along side me[/i][/b][/sub]) were not the Nodic ones of old that sprayed countless bullets at single targets. These were disciplined, professional and fanatically loyal soldiers who were given the order to keep the peace no matter the cost. These men would gladly give their lives, if the lives of men in powered combat armor wielding weapons that could cut a man in half were able to be taken by the TAF and UGZF rabble that slaughtered one another in the streets.

Lightly armored NDII [url="http://forums.cybernations.net/index.php?showtopic=59602&view=findpost&p=1741856"]Hunter[/url] Light Reconnaissance/Fast Attack vehicles equipped with the ubiquitous Active Weapon Discharge Locating System (AWDLS) would form the bulk of patrolling AUSF armor controlled by the Aeon. With them would be the sturdier NDII Terminator Armored Being Carriers (ABC) bringing with them the firepower of their remotely operated weapons systems and kill teams of Aeon Light and Heavy Infantry.

AWDLS equipped Hunters would be able to pinpoint the sources of bullet, rocket or mortar fire and automatically transmit targeting data to troops on the ground or vehicles in the convoy. Up-armored transport vehicles would carry Abettor Counter-Rocket Artillery Mortar Guided Munitions (C-RAMGM) turrets and targeting systems into the streets, protecting both AUSF forces as well as key positions tempting for enemies to attack. All armor on the ground would have their active protection systems set to prevent or minimize collateral damage should a foolish enemy take a potshot at Aeon armor.

Care was given to lock down both the UGZF and TAF official headquarters' as merely a symbolic gesture - both parties were obviously destabilizing factors that threatened the peaceful status quo, and would be eventually dealt with in kind. For now, AUSF Aeon forces were careful not to give leeway to one side over the other. Both political groups were being given equal 'protection' as armed AUSF soldiers locked down entrances to, and more importantly, exits from these buildings. Security checkpoints were established at several key junctures to ensure that both sides had barely operational statuses inside their respective camps.

With patrols in the streets and both political headquarters effectively occupied, teams of AUSF troops would begin securing residential centers of both sides, with aims to protect minorities in their respective neighbourhoods, be them black or white. Other lifelines such as hospitals, gas and power generation systems, as well as schools would be given priority.

Initial analysis of attack patterns by insurgents would begin to piece together the source of the hit teams responsible for inciting violence. Street and security camera footage would be screened extensively by AUSF Aeon technicians at protectorate outposts, intending to begin putting the first pieces of the puzzle together.

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The increased presence of African Union forces would create an immediate change in what was occurring throughout Great Zimbabwe. Almost instantly, the fighting died down in the cities. It was already costly to both fronts to wage an 'underground' war against each other, but now with highly trained foreign soldiers entering into the protectorate, conflict was futile. With extremism being stamped out, the TAF looked hard at itself with great concern because they had arrived at a decisive crossroads. Over half of the population of Great Zimbabwe favored somewhat of a return to the politics and policies of Transvaal, but anything as radical as Botha's old government would only cause those who supported the Greater Zimbabwe Front to rise up in protest. On the verge of both marginal victory and regional independence, change needed to occur and it needed to happen soon.

While not a distinct member of the Transvaaler-Afrikaaner Front, Anita van Graan was nevertheless a loyal Bothaist, a previous citizen of Transvaal, and an affluent citizen of the fledgling nation of Greater Zimbabwe. Living in Windhoek, Anita was lucky enough to have avoided most of the massacres happening in Harare and the east, however, as a cousin of Reiner, she constantly felt the pull of both politics and family responsibility to help in the situation developing in the capital. Seeing the arrival of African Union soldiers on Windhoek's streets however came as a surprise and alerted both her and the rest of her countrymen to the dire problems that Greater Zimbabwe was facing. With her older cousin demanding a return to Apartheid, his son rumored to be fleeing the country, the political make-up of the TAF seemed to be unraveling and this was something the Afrikaaner woman could not allow.

In the parlor of her home outside of Windhoek, Anita held a cup of tea and a saucer with both hands as she stared across the room to an elderly man wearing a gray blazer with an orange pin on his lapel. "I can already tell you, Mr. Roote that there are probably agents outside the gates of my home because of that damn lapel you're wearing."

Alexander Rooote, coughed and ran a hand across his bald head and smiled. "I could allow be bugged, Miss van Graan, I would rather the Africans listen. This is a personal proposal, not something that was concocted from Harare."

The woman chuckled and placed her cup down on a mahogany table to her side before brushing a wisp of short sandy hair from her green eyes. "I was going to ask if my cousin had sent you, I want nothing to do with his old man's club." Then she laughed in spite of herself, "Old Man's Club, that's almost a pun in regards to Botha."

Roote didn't laugh, he sighed and reached into his suit pocket to take out a small packet of white folded papers and threw them onto an adjacent chair. "I didn't come here to make jokes, Anita, I came here to make an offer that many people in Transvaal-Afrikaaner Front would like to see made a reality." He leaned back once he was sure her attention was grabbed. "With the arrival of Union Armies into the region, the fight between the two political fronts has to end. We're nearly in a civil war and now the prospect of independence might be revoked, many moderates on our side have said they would like to cut our losses."

"And Reiner is getting in the way of that?" she said.

"It isn't anything to fret over and I'm not talking about dealing with him in a Martenist style way. I'm talking that while we have the majority of the country on our side, even if it is a small majority, we need to act and that is why I came to you."

"To offer me a position in the campaign?" her emerald eyes brightened.

"To make you the campaign, Anita." He leaned forward, placing his heavy hands against his knees. "You went to school for law, people in Windhoek know you and you can present a friendlier face to both the Front and to the Van Graan Family."

"Because I'm a woman?"

Alexander frowned and nodded, "It might sound sexist, but yes, and that you're from Windhoek, its better than you being from the capital."

Throwing her head back with a laugh, Anita smirked. "You know I figured, just a little bit that this visit had a political side to it. I was rather unaware however that it would be so drastic."

"We don't have time to debate this, Anita, a moderate platform needs to be made as soon as possible or we loose the lead."

Her grin disappeared at the apparent grimness of the situation. She had been around politics, small politics, never something as large as a national forum, but the orange lapel held her eyes. Reiner would destroy any chance of the TAF putting forward a candidate and if the UGZF pushed a moderate forward first then all chances would be lost. She had the power to recreate Transvaal before her now and it would be stupidity and a lax on her responsibility to her family and nation not to accept. With a smile returning to her face, Anita rose from her chair and placed her hand into Alexander's. "Then I accept."


A few days later in Windhoek with internal fighting marginalized by the presence of Union soldiers, an independent forum was established in the city square. Anita had worked tirelessly in the days leading up to the forum to create a platform and a party which held the TAF's views on a strong national state with a strong central government, but one that did not force Apartheid views on the people. The end result would be the birth of a party, not a political militant front.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Anita as she took to the podium in Windhoek broadcasting to Greater Zimbabwe, Africa, and the world.

"In the past few weeks, our region has seen a spike in civil strife as we push through a volatile transition from protectorate to single state. The bloodshed has become so bad in fact that soldiers of the African Union have moved in to secure peace. Ladies and Gentlemen if we have any desire for independence, these actions must stop. The cause of these massacres is because of new political movements, the United Greater Zimbabwe Front and the Transvaal-Afrikaaner Front. Most of you surely recognize my last name, but I can say this now, the views of my cousin are not shared by me or anyone associated with my campaign. Transvaal was a great nation, a prosperous nation, and one who could not become a global power because of its backwards society. Today have a chance to not only correct the past wrongs, but build on what made the nation great.

I have come here to introduce a new way of thinking, a new drive for independence, and one that speaks to both sides of the political spectrum. It was not segregation that made Transvaal prosperous, it was the dedication to industry and farming, hard work and a strong government who protected its citizens. This new government however will protect ALL of its citizens. The state is your mother, Zimbabwe, and it will protect you as you deserve protection.

I come here to extend my desire to see Native Africans and European Descendants to live in equality and while we will have our problems, eventually the fighting will die down and we will be given back our nation. First, however, we must prove to the Union and to the world we are capable of governing ourselves and that government comes from a new party. The National Party."

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[quote name='Sarah Tintagyl' timestamp='1345912078' post='3025198']
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Anita as she took to the podium in Windhoek broadcasting to Greater Zimbabwe, Africa, and the world.

"In the past few weeks-,

Colonel Koobus Venter watched the Afrikaaner woman silently. An intimidating man that prided himself on being one of the few commanding AUSF officers that walked into battle without wearing "those damned plodding tin cans", rubbed his clean shaven head with a gauntleted hand as he sighed into his head piece.

[b]"Are you reading this, Sir?"[/b]

[i]*I want that fokken guy, Reiner has got to go. Get me 'is cousin immediately. Go get the fokker.*[/i]

Smirking at the heavy Afrikaaner accent of the bumbling AU bureaucrat back at the base, Venter nodded at no one in particular. AUSF peace keeping personnel were scattered in full kit and gear throughout the gathering in Windhoek, standing silently as citizens of the city watched Anita's speech. Ostensibly, they were here to guard the rally, as several other similar events were throughout the region. In actuality, they were merely watching the latest offering the TAF had brought up to soften their stance.

The arrival of much needed reinforcements from the North and North East was a welcome sight to Venter. Even now, as fighting died down and people began tending the wounded, the AU wanted answers. The AUSF was charged with finding them, and dragging them kicking and screaming into the spot light.

[b]"Let the speech finish, then escort the woman and her entourage into the one of our convoys. Ser van de Merwe wants to have a word with her,"[/b] Venter gave the word to his men. Being a white African was problem enough for Venter, and having an old fossil like Reiner dredging up the past was a gift Koobus did not appreciate. Over the sounds of white painted AUSF helicopters zipping across the clear skies, the bustle of the crowd and com chatter in his ear, Koobus stood and listened to the van Graaf woman.

After the lengthy speech was finished, Koobus figured that he liked the woman - a welcome change from the norm of Afrikaaner political figures - she was not a stuffy old dinosaur, and he thought she reminded him a lot of that van Matteus woman from days gone by.

He really hoped that her security detail would not resist the AUSF pick up that was now waiting for her.

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After the speech and the arrival of Unionist forces, Anita sighed, it would appear that even a peaceful rally had to answer to the higher powers that existed. As she stepped down, one of the Black Suits in her security detail walked over with a stern look planted on his face. "Miss van Graan? One of the Union Commanders has asked that you accompany him to a convoy, they'd like to have a few words with you."

"The Unionists? Did they sound concerned?"

"Forgive me, Miss," said the Suit, "I could never understand the tone of those Unionists, black or white."

"It isn't a problem," Anita said and tapped him on the shoulder, "Just lead the way."

A few minutes later, Anita approached Colonel Venter and bowed her head as she offered her hand. "Colonel, I was told that you wanted to speak with me. I have to ask, my cousin in Harare, Reiner, he has a friend named Venter. I'm curious if you two are related at all because it would seem you're both well on different sides of the spectrum here. Anyways, please, lead the way. Hopefully I can help with whatever you need."

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[quote name='Sarah Tintagyl' timestamp='1345924263' post='3025234']
A few minutes later, Anita approached Colonel Venter and bowed her head as she offered her hand. "Colonel, I was told that you wanted to speak with me. I have to ask, my cousin in Harare, Reiner, he has a friend named Venter. I'm curious if you two are related at all because it would seem you're both well on different sides of the spectrum here. Anyways, please, lead the way. Hopefully I can help with whatever you need."

Venter approached the woman unarmed with AUSF credentials in hand to ward off suspicions from any lingering security details. Making a point of dusting off his gloved hand before taking Anita's, he spoke quietly with his characteristic gravelly voice.

"That is indeed true, Madame van Graan" he said gently, paving the way for the undoubtedly heavy news he would have to deliver. With a small smile he continued, "I mean no offense, but I surely hope I am not related with that friend, or else I suspect the AU Protectorate Authority would want to speak with me too."

Venter would lead Anita to a waiting armored vehicle with AUSF markings stenciled in heavy black ink across the white exterior. Turning to look from the vehicle, Venter spoke, "Apologies, but I am afraid that you will need to cancel any other plans you may have for the night. While I can assure you that you will be under the full protection of the AUPA and the AUSF it commands, I cannot give a certain length of the duration of your visit."

Placing a hand to his headpiece, the Colonel nodded as he watched a pair of Hunters drive past. The merger of the VIP vehicle with the rest of the convoy would be given priority for today, as reactionary and extremist elements were reported to still be active even after the AUSF crack down. Opening the door of the mine resistant vehicle, Venter motioned Anita to head inside. Entering the vehicle immediately after her, he would speak as he closed the doors shut behind them.

"Madame , you will have to excuse the rather spartan vehicle we have prov-"

"-uh you know uh my wife was always enc'uraging me," came the familiarly obnoxious Afrikaans accent Venter had grown to tire of over the months. The Colonel would pause, standing in the aisle of the armored bus as he stared at the bumbling man in a brown sweater vest and tie. Chattering incessantly to a pair of armed guards sitting nearest to the driver's cupola, the obviously civilian official was oblivious to the fact that the VIP had already arrived.

"-she would always be saying, 'oh, that fine, that's fine', you know because being in corporate I was a bit nervous- oh! Miss van Graan! I did not see you there! Hello! How are you? Please, sit!" the official said, rattling off words like rounds from a machine gun. Venter would merely smirk, walking past to sit with the guards. The African men seemed welcome to be rid of the nuisance, and began to speak in low tones.

The truck would move with a lurch, merging into heavy traffic with the other AUSF vehicles. The streets of Windhoek were dusty, and through grimy bullet proof windows, streams of people and vehicles flowed past in a blur.

"Ah, look at that little guy! 'Hello!'" the man pointed out a rather traditional donkey-drawn carriage that aimlessly crossed paths with on coming traffic. Settling down next to Anita, the man would finally set his sights firmly on her.

"That's nice, eh?" he said, waving a frantic hand at the window behind the pair, "Nice background with the people there? Yes? No? Okay. We are 'edding to AUPA 'ead Office, department of Internal Affairs. My name is Wikus van de Merwe, and uh what we uh do ere is in this department is we. Try to [i]engage[/i] with the indigenous governments on behalf of eh AUPA and on behalf of the AUSF," Wikus ended the obviously rehearsed lines with a goofy grin as he waited for Anita to absorb her surroundings.

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