Mara Lithaen Posted October 7, 2012 Report Share Posted October 7, 2012 (edited) (OOC: Per EM's approval, I will be RPing in Botswana, Angola, Namibia and Zimbabwe as the Confederacy of West Africa. Please wait to post until after I've posted the public DoE with the flag and declaration in it. This first post is merely backstory.) Gaborone was a wasteland, a shell of what it had been a hundred and sixty years before. Few people bothered trying to live in the city anymore, as the gangs which haunted the place made scratching out a living as a scavenger or salvager almost unbearably difficult. It was into this environment that a quartet of slightly-oversize Stryker APCs rolled, into the outskirts of the ruined city, passing burnt-out husks of cars and buildings on their way inward. Every so often, a gang would get the bright idea of rattling off a burst of gunfire at the APCs – which promptly blew them away with autocannon and machinegun fire. The gangers quickly learned that to travel into the range of the convoy of black-and-red vehicles was to die a horrible death at the hands of the gun crews, if one was stupid enough to fire on them. The quartet eventually arrived at the former Botswanan capitol building, debarking from their transports in a clunk of semi-powered armor, a particularly large specimen of a man exiting the personnel hatch with his visor up, a lit cigar perched between his lips and a GPMG held in one hand. “Well hell.” He muttered, a distinctly American Southern accent issued with the words. “This place ain’t anythin’ but a ghost town.” “Yes, but it’s our ghost town, now.” Said a particularly black woman wearing a less massive version of the same armor, helmet exchanged for a dark navy beret. Her accent was something more Australian, revolver GLM cradled in her arms. She quirked a slim, dark eyebrow at the huge man. “Don’t tell me you actually expected people to stay in this hellhole, Dante.” The man grunted. “I guess not. I reckon this place fell to anarchy right quickly. Still, you’d think some damn fool would’ve at least tried to claim the place. All this steel could make a guy very, very rich. Start his own empire-rich.” “Which is exactly why we’re here, isn’t it? Recon Three reported the Treasury vault was still sealed and probably still full of gold and diamond.” The woman said, grinning slightly nastily. “With that kind of finance in hand we can rule the place. The outer communities we’ve run through want to be part of a country – so let’s give them one.” “And we all get filthily rich in the process, of course, Margaret.” The man drawled, an eager look carved into his scarred visage. “Of course.” She said, smirking. “But none of that will happen until we get inside and find those diamonds.” “Then what the hell are we waiting for?” ~~~ Meanwhile, in the former capitols of Namibia, Angola and Zimbabwe, similar infiltrations were underway, teams setting up explosive charges in the countries’ sealed treasury vaults, blowing the doors open with the power of advanced plastic explosives. The recovery teams strode directly past the now-worthless paper monies and directed themselves towards the precious metals which made up the true value of the nations’ currencies. There were other vaults to be blown – private as well as governmental – but the treasure trove of diamond and precious metals were already amounting to a truly monumental fortune in today’s currency, even without having begun to salvage the old, still-useful steel that made up the cities themselves. Dante stood in front of a smallish steel crate packed fit to bursting with gold and silver, running the ancient coins through his fingers, testing the smelted bars in another crate with a hammer and screwdriver. “This crap is pure, Margaret.” He said, inspecting the gold. “My God, there has to be several billions’ worth of gold in here.” “That’s exactly what we’re going to need if we’re going to get this new country up and running, Dante. “ she said, popping open a small box of gold, half-dazed. “Just why in the hell aren’t we taking this and runnin’?” he groused, stubbing his cigar out on the lid of the steel grate and lighting another. “With this we could all retire and live like kings and queens.” “Because, if we build up our own country when we own the industries, we’ll make more than this will ever be worth. And we’ll have [i]power.[/i] Power we can actually wield, power greater than just having money will grant us.” She explained, looking up from her box briefly to catch his eye when she began to speak of power. His face shifted – he liked the sound of actual power. “Just think about it, Dante. A whole nation’s military at your disposal, with all the firepower and toys you could ever ask for.” She said, dropping her voice and pushing his buttons, stoking his love of all things that go boom. “All right, damnit… I’ll be along for the duration, if that kind of reward’s on the table.” He said, taking a long drag on his cigar. “But I’ll be bookin’ it if this all goes south.” “Don’t worry, Dante. I’ve got this all figured out.” she said, shutting her box's lid. ~~~ Many of the various tribes had fallen back to their internal power struggles, the struggles which the nations of old had attempted to end. They fought and warred amongst eachother, killing indiscriminately and destabilizing the region as a whole. The Confederate movement was slow to catch on - very slow - but once it had, it exploded, spreading like a wildfire throughout the savannas and deserts, the plains and hills and mountains. The original, small group of five hundred troops swelled, growing to seven thousand within a week of the movement's explosion, and thirty thousand within a month. For the first time in far too long, roads were actually patrolled, and the violence of the tribes and gangs slowed, finally nearly coming to a stop. Margaret started a company, the West African Mining and Salvage Corporation, and put the region's destitute inhabitants to work, tearing down the old cities. Her partner Mgombe Naganda built new buildings practically the instant she had torn down the old ones and salvaged what was useful. Under Margaret's direction, Dante started ArmaCorp., buying aluminum and steel from her and turning them into vehicles and weapons for the small army that was growing in the still-unorganized region. But he also built tools; his company made shovels, axes, plows, tractors, irrigators - all of these they provided to the farmers of the three regions, and the effects of the revitalization were felt when farmers tilled previously infertile fields and harvested their first crops from them, selling to the newly-monied citizenry of the regions, trading in gold and silver for job lots of food. The rebuilding would take a long time to finish, but it had finally begun. ~~~ As the regions became more dependent on one another, became more affluent, as they grew to know and trust one another, the first murmurs of incorporation spread. They grew and grew until they became a roar of demand - the people of West Africa wanted to unite. Representatives from all over the regions gathered in Gaborone, and set about studying several examples of a constitution - The ones of the old countries, and even of the United States, so far away. Inspired by the other constitutions, they set about hammering out the details of just what they expected to have in the constitution - protections from tribal and racial discrimination, economic rights, the whole nine yards. And then they began to write. The finished document was turned over to the various representatives at the convention, and they in turn distributed it to the peoples and places they hailed from for a vote, a vote on the creation of a Confederacy of West Africa (which, despite the name, had far more in common with a cross between an oligarchy and a federal system than a confederacy, being comprised of a small High Council (made up of the leaders of the Confederate movement, i.e., Margaret Stratton, Dante Willamette and Mgombo Naganda, whose progeny and family collectively eventually became known as the Old Families) headed by a President followed by the popularly-elected House of Representatives. The House had the power to propose and vote on laws, and held the power of the purse; the High Council lacked the power of the purse but held the power to declare war. The President was the Commander of the armed forces, and had the power of veto over any law that crossed her desk. The result of the vote was 82% in favor, 16% against, and 2% undecided/did not vote. And thus was the Confederacy of West Africa born. Edited October 11, 2012 by Mara Lithaen Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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