Oi, and africa is still being partitioned. 
o
Shame.
what about commies?
Where are they all hiding?
o Shame.
what about commies?
Where are they all hiding?
-
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Enewald said:what about commies?
Where are they all hiding?
Sorry to say this, but I'm a bit of a center-rightist, so I don't really know much about the commies. However thank you for bringing this up. I will certainly be writing about the commies, as they are equally important in the history as anyone else. However, they may appear only later in the AAR.
Anyways, here's the update for Saturday!
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La Republique, in the night sky
After a few more hours of reporting, Rommel laid down on his bed in his own cabin. There wasn’t a lot of things in the cabin aside from the bed. A table and a chair, along with some neatly placed belongings, were what that were visible under the bright moonlight to Rommel’s eyes.
“I’m I where I should belong?” Rommel stretched out his hand and block the moon from his vision. Stretches of silvery moonlight leaked out between his fingers and shine on his face.
Rommel then got up and sat on the chair. Using a light Rommel opened some files and began looking over them. Many of them have images, diagrams, along with multiple data charts all arranged in a neat format.
tech overview, notice that I have FN and Philips
production overview, aside from a small fleet I'm building, factories are being built
view of total maintenance
As Rommel looked at them, a knock suddenly appeared on his door. It was a sergeant sent by Mercier asking him to come to the main air cells compartment of the airship. Rommel dismissed the sergeant and swiftly went for where the General insturcted him to go without hesistation.
Rommel reached a compartment with huge cells containing the hydrogen providing the lift for the dirigeable (airship). The rustling of the air and the rumbling of the engine outside can be heard with ease. With the air cells on both sides, a single hanging aisle spanning the whole length of the compartment was litted by a few lights. Rommel proceeded down the aisle at a slow pace, wondering why the General had called him to this place.
Suddenly a silvery white object flew towards Rommel. Rommel skillfully caught it in mid-air. Under the dim light of the compartment he realized that it was a fencing sabre.
“Are you fine with a match with me, Major Rommel?” Mercier came walking from the unlitted part of the aisle. The light revealed the General wearing his usual military uniform rather than protective clothing. “I have no real opponent for quite a while.” Mercier smiled charmingly.
“… fencing.” Rommel said in a low voice.
“Good, good. Major Rommel. However, you put to much strength into your blows.” Rommel and Mercier dualed each other on the narrow aisle. The sound of the sabres colliding with each other can be heard throughout the whole compartment. Mercier’s movements were full of elegance, however furious and unrelenting. It appeared that Rommel is on the down side.
“I assume that fencing is not one of your strong points, Major Rommel.” Mercier said in between his strikes, smiling.
“……” Rommel did not answer, rather concentrated with defending each of Mercier’s strikes.
“It seems like that we have enough warm up.” Mercier suddenly stopped his blows, and placed his fencing sabre away. He picked up two fine rapier placed at the side and handed Rommel one of them.
“It is time for a real match. I believe that you will fare better with a genuine killing tool.” Mercier once again smilied charmaingly, however there seemed to have a touch a cruelty in it.
Under the dim light, the two blades shined brightly as they cut through the space between Rommel and Mercier. When the blades collided, it almost seemed that the whole airship shook. Although the General’s strikes were just as furious and unrelenting, not to mention almost unpredictable, Rommel seemed to be able to fight back better. The weapon in his hand had a more familiar sense to him and he wielded it more like an organic part of him rather than a weapon.
“A weapon is meant to kill. If it couldn’t kill, then it will be useless, isn’t it?” Mercier said suddenly with his usual smile.
Rommel suddenly felt stunned by the General’s words and briefly stopped his movements.
In an swift and unpredicted two blow strike, Mercier skillfully knocked the rapier out of Rommel’s hand and made for a thrust for Rommel’s throat. Rommel in reflex caught the rapier between the fingers of his left hand and broke it in half. However, Mercier caught Rommel’s rapier in mid-air and pointed it at zero distance from Rommel’s throat.
“It seems that you need more practice in handling with a rapier. However, I wouldn’t point that to a superior if I were you, Major Rommel.”
As Mercier pointed the rapier at Rommel’s throat, Rommel also held his Luger at level with the General’s heart in his right hand, his eyes almost glowing as red as rubies.
“We had had enough today, Major Rommel. Tommorow we shall meet the Tsar. You owe me a fine rapier, so I expect you to have more satisfacting performances to compensate for my loss. Bonne nuit.”
Mercier then left the compartment with his rapier, leaving Rommel alone. The rustling of the air and the rumbling of the engine suddenly became noticable again, and that were the sounds that accompanied Rommel to sleep.
Rommel reached a compartment with huge cells containing the hydrogen providing the lift for the dirigeable (airship). The rustling of the air and the rumbling of the engine outside can be heard with ease. With the air cells on both sides, a single hanging aisle spanning the whole length of the compartment was litted by a few lights. Rommel proceeded down the aisle at a slow pace, wondering why the General had called him to this place.
Suddenly a silvery white object flew towards Rommel. Rommel skillfully caught it in mid-air. Under the dim light of the compartment he realized that it was a fencing sabre.
“Are you fine with a match with me, Major Rommel?” Mercier came walking from the unlitted part of the aisle. The light revealed the General wearing his usual military uniform rather than protective clothing. “I have no real opponent for quite a while.” Mercier smiled charmingly.
“… fencing.” Rommel said in a low voice.
......................
“Good, good. Major Rommel. However, you put to much strength into your blows.” Rommel and Mercier dualed each other on the narrow aisle. The sound of the sabres colliding with each other can be heard throughout the whole compartment. Mercier’s movements were full of elegance, however furious and unrelenting. It appeared that Rommel is on the down side.
“I assume that fencing is not one of your strong points, Major Rommel.” Mercier said in between his strikes, smiling.
“……” Rommel did not answer, rather concentrated with defending each of Mercier’s strikes.
“It seems like that we have enough warm up.” Mercier suddenly stopped his blows, and placed his fencing sabre away. He picked up two fine rapier placed at the side and handed Rommel one of them.
“It is time for a real match. I believe that you will fare better with a genuine killing tool.” Mercier once again smilied charmaingly, however there seemed to have a touch a cruelty in it.
Under the dim light, the two blades shined brightly as they cut through the space between Rommel and Mercier. When the blades collided, it almost seemed that the whole airship shook. Although the General’s strikes were just as furious and unrelenting, not to mention almost unpredictable, Rommel seemed to be able to fight back better. The weapon in his hand had a more familiar sense to him and he wielded it more like an organic part of him rather than a weapon.
“A weapon is meant to kill. If it couldn’t kill, then it will be useless, isn’t it?” Mercier said suddenly with his usual smile.
Rommel suddenly felt stunned by the General’s words and briefly stopped his movements.
In an swift and unpredicted two blow strike, Mercier skillfully knocked the rapier out of Rommel’s hand and made for a thrust for Rommel’s throat. Rommel in reflex caught the rapier between the fingers of his left hand and broke it in half. However, Mercier caught Rommel’s rapier in mid-air and pointed it at zero distance from Rommel’s throat.
“It seems that you need more practice in handling with a rapier. However, I wouldn’t point that to a superior if I were you, Major Rommel.”
As Mercier pointed the rapier at Rommel’s throat, Rommel also held his Luger at level with the General’s heart in his right hand, his eyes almost glowing as red as rubies.
“We had had enough today, Major Rommel. Tommorow we shall meet the Tsar. You owe me a fine rapier, so I expect you to have more satisfacting performances to compensate for my loss. Bonne nuit.”
Mercier then left the compartment with his rapier, leaving Rommel alone. The rustling of the air and the rumbling of the engine suddenly became noticable again, and that were the sounds that accompanied Rommel to sleep.
......................
Next time prepare to meet the Ruskies!
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gaiasabre11: ...I don't really know much about the commies.
IRL, the commies show up in October, 1917.
gaiasabre11: ...“It seems that you need more practice in handling with a rapier. However, I wouldn’t point that to a superior if I were you, Major Rommel.”
excellent update ! !
IRL, the commies show up in October, 1917.
gaiasabre11: ...“It seems that you need more practice in handling with a rapier. However, I wouldn’t point that to a superior if I were you, Major Rommel.”
excellent update ! !
GhostWriter said:
Yes, I do know about the October Revolution. What I meant was that I do not know any prominent communist movements prior to that. If I really can't find a prominent communist of the time of my AAR, I think I might just as well use a fictional character. Thanks for your reply.
FN is the best They should have skill level 9.
If you knew half the things thay did you couldn't live with yourself
They should have skill level 9.If you knew half the things thay did you couldn't live with yourself
Middelkerke said:FN is the best
If you knew half the things thay did you couldn't live with yourself
Yes, I know that FN is the best. Their recent product, the FN SCAR (an assault rifle, for those who don't know) , is absolutely amazing. However it is not until 1898 that one of their most famous gun designer started to work there. In fact the firearms designer I mentioned will appear later in the AAR. You can wait till I start writing about him, or you can check FN's history on wiki to know who I am talking about. Oh, and your advice is taken, but I will not change it until 1898 for the reason I mentioned above.
............................
Here we go, folks. The update is here! However, I have a midterm on Friday, and another one next Monday, so there will be no update on this Saturday. Whatever, please enjoy the update!
............................
Rommel woke up only after a few hours later. The small cabin window reveal no sunlight yet, with the bright moon still visible. Outside of his cabin there seemed to be a hustling of the crew. Rommel got up and within minutes he was in the piloting gondola of the airship.
“Ahh… good timing, Major Rommel. We are just about to summon you. You have another mission.” General Mercier spoke charmingly to Rommel. Aside from the General and the crew, Rommel also noticed two unknown men in the compartment.
“Our intelligence had revealed plans of assassinating the Tsar during our visit. Although the Tsar is nothing more than a weakling, he still has some uses that we can exploit. You are to eliminate the possible assassins without attracting any unwanted attention. However, let’s first switch to another place before we continue our talk.”
The General then lead the others out of the gondola and into the interior of the airship. Then, in a rather large compartment inside the airship, the General stopped.
“What is this thing with wings, mon General?” asked Rommel. Within Rommel’s vision was a man-made craft with a length of several meters and a “wingspan” of almost twice its length. The craft had a wooden structure covered with texile, and was hanged above a section of the airship’s fuselage that seemed to be some kind of bay doors that opened to the outside.
“Ahh… good timing, Major Rommel. We are just about to summon you. You have another mission.” General Mercier spoke charmingly to Rommel. Aside from the General and the crew, Rommel also noticed two unknown men in the compartment.
“Our intelligence had revealed plans of assassinating the Tsar during our visit. Although the Tsar is nothing more than a weakling, he still has some uses that we can exploit. You are to eliminate the possible assassins without attracting any unwanted attention. However, let’s first switch to another place before we continue our talk.”
The General then lead the others out of the gondola and into the interior of the airship. Then, in a rather large compartment inside the airship, the General stopped.
“What is this thing with wings, mon General?” asked Rommel. Within Rommel’s vision was a man-made craft with a length of several meters and a “wingspan” of almost twice its length. The craft had a wooden structure covered with texile, and was hanged above a section of the airship’s fuselage that seemed to be some kind of bay doors that opened to the outside.
What Rommel saw most resemble this 1902 glider
“It is a glider. A craft use to travel across the sky without any source of propulsion of its own. Both fortunately and unfortunately it will be too late to sent you out to elimate the assassins when actually we arive on land, so you now have the chance be the first to use this craft launching directly from La Republique to execute your mission. This craft is built by the two lads we have here. Although the one million franc price tag of bringing them here isn’t cheap, these two Americans are the most impressive pair of brothers I’ve ever met. They are still not very fluent with their French, but they will know that you’re refering to them by the name Wright.”
“Good everning, Major Rommel, glad to meet you. I’m Wilbur Wright, and this is my brother Orville.” The elder of the two spoke in a rather awkward tone and pointed to his brother, reaching out his hand. “We will teach you how to control this craft.” Wilbur smiled.
“Can you gurantee that this thing works perfectly?” Rommel asked suspiciously, shaking Wilbur’s hand.
“No, actually. We had made many test flights in Normandy, and it worked perfectly fine there. However, we had never tested it from our current altitude of fifteen hundred metres before.” Wilbur seemed a bit embarrassed.
“You did not assume that I had any similar experience with this thing before, am I right, mon General?” Rommel turned to Mercier.
“No. However, I always know that you a quick learner.” Mercier still wore his usual charming smile while he answered Rommel.
After a bit more briefing on his mission and some simple instructions on how to control the glider, Rommel climbed on the craft and lay on his stomach on the wing of the craft. It was certainly not the most comfortable position.
“Only Death never dies” thought Rommel, as the bay doors beneath him opened, revealing the earth below and the towering height they were situated. Rommel felt the chilling winds blowing on his face as he was then released from the airship, and began to dive into the abyss below. It was a descend that seemed to take eternity for Rommel. However, the city of light ahead of him grew bigger and bigger, until finally he made a graceful landing at the outskirts of the Russian capital, Saint Petersburg.
“Good everning, Major Rommel, glad to meet you. I’m Wilbur Wright, and this is my brother Orville.” The elder of the two spoke in a rather awkward tone and pointed to his brother, reaching out his hand. “We will teach you how to control this craft.” Wilbur smiled.
“Can you gurantee that this thing works perfectly?” Rommel asked suspiciously, shaking Wilbur’s hand.
“No, actually. We had made many test flights in Normandy, and it worked perfectly fine there. However, we had never tested it from our current altitude of fifteen hundred metres before.” Wilbur seemed a bit embarrassed.
“You did not assume that I had any similar experience with this thing before, am I right, mon General?” Rommel turned to Mercier.
“No. However, I always know that you a quick learner.” Mercier still wore his usual charming smile while he answered Rommel.
...
After a bit more briefing on his mission and some simple instructions on how to control the glider, Rommel climbed on the craft and lay on his stomach on the wing of the craft. It was certainly not the most comfortable position.
“Only Death never dies” thought Rommel, as the bay doors beneath him opened, revealing the earth below and the towering height they were situated. Rommel felt the chilling winds blowing on his face as he was then released from the airship, and began to dive into the abyss below. It was a descend that seemed to take eternity for Rommel. However, the city of light ahead of him grew bigger and bigger, until finally he made a graceful landing at the outskirts of the Russian capital, Saint Petersburg.
Rommel set out from the bay doors like the ones in the picture
Unknown house in Saint Petersburg, 5:00 a.m.
Ulyanov was not in his best moods, and he took a sip of vodka. A month ago just as he was about to be exiled to Siberia, he made a daring escape, and was now a fugitive wanted by the local authorities. Since then he vowed to make the government pay, by a revolution preferably. And the way to do this is to assasinate the Tsar.
He had gathered some men who shared his views toward the corrupt state. They were all influenced by the book Das Kapital written by a German, and had know each other since they were in university when they participated in student protests.
“Ulyanov, the sun has not risen yet, we should move now.” One of his friends called him, and Ulyanov hurried to pack up his things. They had heard from someone working as a servant for the Tsar that the French were going to make a largely unpublicized state visit. “Unpublicized, eh…” thought Ulyanov, he was going to make the visit publicized by spilling the Tsar’s blood in front of the French delegates.
The group had determined that the French will be welcomed in a Royal ground outside of the city, so their plan is to intercept the Tsar’s carriage while it is still in the city. They also knew that the Tsar will only be accompanined by a minimal amount of guards as not to attract too much attention. They were to disarm the guards as swiftly as possible and swap places with them without alarming the Tsar, then took the Tsar to the meeting grounds and shoot him at the back of the head in front of the French delegates. Thereby plunging the country into total chaos, from which a class war can start. If anything went wrong they will simply use a bomb to sent the Tsar in his carriage flying to meet his creator.
Ulyanov hastily put on his great coat over his stolen guard uniform and stuffed his revolver into a pocket. The others were already waiting outside of the house. They had determined which route the Tsar will take, and will make sure that it will be the last route the Tsar will ever take.
“Who are you, and ….. ARRRGGHHH!!!” Suddenly Ulyanov heard the screaming of his companions outside and the sound of multiple shots fired. He rushed to see what had happened and found out under the dim street light outside a sole man stood motionless. Around him were his companions, his comrades, all dying with a pool of blood beneath each of them.
“What, you basta… uuuurrrrghhhh!!!!” Ulyanov reached for his gun in his pocket, however the man acted faster and a short sword piercied his shoulder. Ulyanov felt a hot, sticky fluid drenching him as he hit the wall of the alley beside the house. A sense of powerless came to Ulyanov as the man took out a gleaming Luger and pointed it at Ulyanov's forehead.
“Lenin … stay alive.”
Ulyanov suddenly remembered his elder brother Alexander, who had been killed years early before for an attempt on the Tsar’s life, calling him by his pet name. They were his last words before his neck broke in front of Ulyanov at the gallows. Had they both made the same mistake of challenging the authority of the state?
“No ……” thought Ulyanov, “I’ll stay alive and continue what my brother didn’t finish!!” Ulyanov made a loud cry, and struggled to remove the blade in his shoulder. His hands bled as he grasped the blade and pushed it out inch by inch.
The mysterious man seemed a bit stunned by Ulyanov determined struggle for his life. However, the man's gun remained in front of Ulyanov’s forehead and the his finger started to pull back on the trigger…
“Who’s there, and what are you doing!” A light suddenly flashes from the open street, and two man who seemed to be policeman rushed over to the scene, their revolvers in hand. The mysterious man, looking annoyed, withdrew his weapons, and disappeared running down the alley into the abyss of the city.
“These men are all dead! What had happened! Are you alright?” A policeman checked the bodies and then rushed to Ulyanov, checking his gaping wound. “Hey, are you not Vladimir Ulyanov?”
As Ulyanov was taken away by the authority and to his exile in Siberia, he thought of his dead brother again and again.
“Alexander … you saved my life there, I’ll use this life to continue what you had not finished … I swear.” Ulyanov thought, although from then on he was to be known as Lenin, Vladmir Lenin......
Ulyanov was not in his best moods, and he took a sip of vodka. A month ago just as he was about to be exiled to Siberia, he made a daring escape, and was now a fugitive wanted by the local authorities. Since then he vowed to make the government pay, by a revolution preferably. And the way to do this is to assasinate the Tsar.
He had gathered some men who shared his views toward the corrupt state. They were all influenced by the book Das Kapital written by a German, and had know each other since they were in university when they participated in student protests.
“Ulyanov, the sun has not risen yet, we should move now.” One of his friends called him, and Ulyanov hurried to pack up his things. They had heard from someone working as a servant for the Tsar that the French were going to make a largely unpublicized state visit. “Unpublicized, eh…” thought Ulyanov, he was going to make the visit publicized by spilling the Tsar’s blood in front of the French delegates.
The group had determined that the French will be welcomed in a Royal ground outside of the city, so their plan is to intercept the Tsar’s carriage while it is still in the city. They also knew that the Tsar will only be accompanined by a minimal amount of guards as not to attract too much attention. They were to disarm the guards as swiftly as possible and swap places with them without alarming the Tsar, then took the Tsar to the meeting grounds and shoot him at the back of the head in front of the French delegates. Thereby plunging the country into total chaos, from which a class war can start. If anything went wrong they will simply use a bomb to sent the Tsar in his carriage flying to meet his creator.
Ulyanov hastily put on his great coat over his stolen guard uniform and stuffed his revolver into a pocket. The others were already waiting outside of the house. They had determined which route the Tsar will take, and will make sure that it will be the last route the Tsar will ever take.
“Who are you, and ….. ARRRGGHHH!!!” Suddenly Ulyanov heard the screaming of his companions outside and the sound of multiple shots fired. He rushed to see what had happened and found out under the dim street light outside a sole man stood motionless. Around him were his companions, his comrades, all dying with a pool of blood beneath each of them.
“What, you basta… uuuurrrrghhhh!!!!” Ulyanov reached for his gun in his pocket, however the man acted faster and a short sword piercied his shoulder. Ulyanov felt a hot, sticky fluid drenching him as he hit the wall of the alley beside the house. A sense of powerless came to Ulyanov as the man took out a gleaming Luger and pointed it at Ulyanov's forehead.
“Lenin … stay alive.”
Ulyanov suddenly remembered his elder brother Alexander, who had been killed years early before for an attempt on the Tsar’s life, calling him by his pet name. They were his last words before his neck broke in front of Ulyanov at the gallows. Had they both made the same mistake of challenging the authority of the state?
“No ……” thought Ulyanov, “I’ll stay alive and continue what my brother didn’t finish!!” Ulyanov made a loud cry, and struggled to remove the blade in his shoulder. His hands bled as he grasped the blade and pushed it out inch by inch.
The mysterious man seemed a bit stunned by Ulyanov determined struggle for his life. However, the man's gun remained in front of Ulyanov’s forehead and the his finger started to pull back on the trigger…
“Who’s there, and what are you doing!” A light suddenly flashes from the open street, and two man who seemed to be policeman rushed over to the scene, their revolvers in hand. The mysterious man, looking annoyed, withdrew his weapons, and disappeared running down the alley into the abyss of the city.
“These men are all dead! What had happened! Are you alright?” A policeman checked the bodies and then rushed to Ulyanov, checking his gaping wound. “Hey, are you not Vladimir Ulyanov?”
...
As Ulyanov was taken away by the authority and to his exile in Siberia, he thought of his dead brother again and again.
“Alexander … you saved my life there, I’ll use this life to continue what you had not finished … I swear.” Ulyanov thought, although from then on he was to be known as Lenin, Vladmir Lenin......
Lenin in 1895 (I can't find a 1897 one)
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This update was done in a rush, too, so some content may be a bit confusing and awkward. I thought up the plot basically instantly, so it might be lame. I will appreciately any advice made. So start replying!!!!
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wasnt particularly confusing, unless i compeltely misunderstood it but think i did understand it. the other man preusambly was rommel.
Enewald said:
BritishImperial made the correct assumption. To make it even more clear, I edited the update to reveal that the other man was using a Luger. Thank you anyways for the reply.
gaiasabre11: ...“What is this thing with wings, mon General?” asked Rommel.
cool ! ! the Wright brothers are in town ! !
gaiasabre11: ...A sense of powerlessness came to Ulyanov as the man took out a gleaming Luger and pointed it at Ulyanov's forehead.
and our favorite Major in this AAR is on the ground and well ! !
excellent update ! !
cool ! ! the Wright brothers are in town ! !
gaiasabre11: ...A sense of powerlessness came to Ulyanov as the man took out a gleaming Luger and pointed it at Ulyanov's forehead.
and our favorite Major in this AAR is on the ground and well ! !
excellent update ! !
BritishImperial said:
Sure you can! But why don't you tell this to Lenin himself? Go to Moscow and visit him!
.........
Here we go, folks! Sorry for the wait, but the update is here! Enjoy!
.........
St.Petersburg, 1897
Royal Ground in the outskirts of St. Petersburg, Russian Empire, 9:00 a.m.
In the Royal Grounds, Tsar Nicholas II watched in awe as La Repulique gradually descended. He was a man not yet thirty years old, and had just become Tsar a few years ago when his father suddenly died. He was still inexperienced and actually nervous as he awaited the French to come. It was the first time he met formally with the representives of his country's recent ally.
Tsar Nicholas II (picture taken in 1898)
Previously Nicholas II had received a telegram from the French Ambassador that a French delegation lead by the French Foreign minister will be arriving. At first he thought of recepting the delegation at the port of St. Petersburg, but the French Ambassador strangely asked him to prepare a Royal Ground with a large open ground at least some few hundred metres across.
The Tsar looked around and saw Royal Grounds full of men preparing hooks and ropes for the airship’s landing. Nobody had ever deal with the landing of an airship, and chaos was almost everywhere. However, the airship descended gracefully, and required only a minimal amount of restrain to anchor it on the ground.
From La Republique a foldable staircase stretched out, and the French Foreign minister appeared. The minister had a large smile on his face, however he appeared to be a bit shaky. Perhaps he was not accustomed with the ride in such a revolutionary machine. The whole French delegation includes some thirty to forty men, but with a surprisely large portion of the men were in military uniform.
“Monsieur Röell, welcome to Russia!” The Tsar welcomed his guests with a gruff Fench with full Russian accent in it.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, mon Empereur. My ride with La Republique, which is this magnificent airship, is not very pleasant. Sleeping on a bed while being thousands of metres above ground is certainly quite something I’m not used to, though it’s quite an experience to have.” The French Foreign minister spoke eloquently to the Tsar, with a smile covering almost half of his face. However there was something on the minister’s expression that made the Tsar suspect that the minister had more than just had a few bad nights of sleep.
“Yes, it will be quite an experience to have. Perhaps someday I can be on there too? Hahaha… Here’s my man Major Suminov, he will take you to where you can rest.” The Tsar then made a hand gesture.
The man named Suminov appeared right after the Tsar made his gesture. He was a man whose face was covered with mustache, and seemed to be a flambouyant man.
“Die! You rascal! Die!”
A guard suddenly flung his coat away, revealing multiple explosives strapped together on the man’s waist. He charged towards the Tsar, holding a crude detonation device. However, another man came out from the crowd and grabbed the man’s arm and dislocated the man’s shoulder joint all in one swift move. Before the man can cry out in pain, his face was buried in the grass of the Royal ground. The guards around then rushed forward and grabbed the man and stripped the explosive off him.
“You … scum … you will … uuurrrrgggghh!!” holding his disabled arm, the assassin spoke weakly as the guards got him up from the ground, however the unknown man gave him a punch on the windpipe and immediately silenced him. The man was then taken away by a couple of the guards.
“Who are you, my gallant man? You seem not to be one of my guards.” Tsar Nicholas II seemed still a bit shocked at the attempt on his life, however, he was pleased with someone bravely running out of the crowd and saving his life.
“This is Major Rommel, mon Empereur. He is my trusty subordinate in the Legions. I had asked him to arrive earlier than us, so that’s why he didn’t appear with the delegation.” General Mercier suddenly said from aside.
“Ahhh, I see. And you are?” The Tsar then turned to General Mercier.
“I am Auguste Mercier, commander in chief of the French Foreign Legions. It is a pleasure to meet you, mon Empereur.”
“Ahhh, nice. You have such a wonderful man under your command.”
“Your majesty!! Are you alright?” Major Suminov ran towards the Tsar panting, then he turned towards Rommel.
“You! You are an assassin, too. Am I right? You got rid of the man just because you want to let our guard down and enable you to get close to the Tsar. Do not deny but die!!”
Major Suminov then charged towards Rommel, with his sabre in hand. Just as he was about to strike Rommel, Rommel caught the sabre in his fingers and stop it dead.
“How foolish… ” said Rommel. He then took out his own short sword and sliced through the blade of the sabre.
“What …” Major Suminov looked at his sliced sabre in shock, and then angrily threw the useless weapon on the ground. “You bxxxx! You think you can humiliate me? Fine. Try your best to humiliate me as much as possible. I now challenge you to a gun duel.” Major Suminov glared almost madly at Rommel. Rommel only remained silent.
“Major Suminov! What are you doing? How can you just attack someone without reasoning? Not to mention challenging someone to a duel.”
“Why don’t we just watch and see what will happen, mon Emperor?” Mercier suddenly said behind, with a look that seemed to make a man unresistable to the words coming from it.
“What … but this is just …” the Tsar stammered a bit, a bit shock by Mercier’s look.
“I believe that a duel will entertain you, mon Empereur.” Merecier looked deeply into the Tsar’s eyes with a hypnotising stare as he said each of his words.
“Ohhh… then so be it. Watching a duel will certainly be entertaining” said the Tsar, looking aside.
The Tsar looked around and saw Royal Grounds full of men preparing hooks and ropes for the airship’s landing. Nobody had ever deal with the landing of an airship, and chaos was almost everywhere. However, the airship descended gracefully, and required only a minimal amount of restrain to anchor it on the ground.
From La Republique a foldable staircase stretched out, and the French Foreign minister appeared. The minister had a large smile on his face, however he appeared to be a bit shaky. Perhaps he was not accustomed with the ride in such a revolutionary machine. The whole French delegation includes some thirty to forty men, but with a surprisely large portion of the men were in military uniform.
“Monsieur Röell, welcome to Russia!” The Tsar welcomed his guests with a gruff Fench with full Russian accent in it.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, mon Empereur. My ride with La Republique, which is this magnificent airship, is not very pleasant. Sleeping on a bed while being thousands of metres above ground is certainly quite something I’m not used to, though it’s quite an experience to have.” The French Foreign minister spoke eloquently to the Tsar, with a smile covering almost half of his face. However there was something on the minister’s expression that made the Tsar suspect that the minister had more than just had a few bad nights of sleep.
“Yes, it will be quite an experience to have. Perhaps someday I can be on there too? Hahaha… Here’s my man Major Suminov, he will take you to where you can rest.” The Tsar then made a hand gesture.
The man named Suminov appeared right after the Tsar made his gesture. He was a man whose face was covered with mustache, and seemed to be a flambouyant man.
“Die! You rascal! Die!”
A guard suddenly flung his coat away, revealing multiple explosives strapped together on the man’s waist. He charged towards the Tsar, holding a crude detonation device. However, another man came out from the crowd and grabbed the man’s arm and dislocated the man’s shoulder joint all in one swift move. Before the man can cry out in pain, his face was buried in the grass of the Royal ground. The guards around then rushed forward and grabbed the man and stripped the explosive off him.
“You … scum … you will … uuurrrrgggghh!!” holding his disabled arm, the assassin spoke weakly as the guards got him up from the ground, however the unknown man gave him a punch on the windpipe and immediately silenced him. The man was then taken away by a couple of the guards.
“Who are you, my gallant man? You seem not to be one of my guards.” Tsar Nicholas II seemed still a bit shocked at the attempt on his life, however, he was pleased with someone bravely running out of the crowd and saving his life.
“This is Major Rommel, mon Empereur. He is my trusty subordinate in the Legions. I had asked him to arrive earlier than us, so that’s why he didn’t appear with the delegation.” General Mercier suddenly said from aside.
“Ahhh, I see. And you are?” The Tsar then turned to General Mercier.
“I am Auguste Mercier, commander in chief of the French Foreign Legions. It is a pleasure to meet you, mon Empereur.”
“Ahhh, nice. You have such a wonderful man under your command.”
“Your majesty!! Are you alright?” Major Suminov ran towards the Tsar panting, then he turned towards Rommel.
“You! You are an assassin, too. Am I right? You got rid of the man just because you want to let our guard down and enable you to get close to the Tsar. Do not deny but die!!”
Major Suminov then charged towards Rommel, with his sabre in hand. Just as he was about to strike Rommel, Rommel caught the sabre in his fingers and stop it dead.
“How foolish… ” said Rommel. He then took out his own short sword and sliced through the blade of the sabre.
“What …” Major Suminov looked at his sliced sabre in shock, and then angrily threw the useless weapon on the ground. “You bxxxx! You think you can humiliate me? Fine. Try your best to humiliate me as much as possible. I now challenge you to a gun duel.” Major Suminov glared almost madly at Rommel. Rommel only remained silent.
“Major Suminov! What are you doing? How can you just attack someone without reasoning? Not to mention challenging someone to a duel.”
“Why don’t we just watch and see what will happen, mon Emperor?” Mercier suddenly said behind, with a look that seemed to make a man unresistable to the words coming from it.
“What … but this is just …” the Tsar stammered a bit, a bit shock by Mercier’s look.
“I believe that a duel will entertain you, mon Empereur.” Merecier looked deeply into the Tsar’s eyes with a hypnotising stare as he said each of his words.
“Ohhh… then so be it. Watching a duel will certainly be entertaining” said the Tsar, looking aside.
…
Nagant m1895 Revolver
“Your blood shall spill on the ground today” said Suminov, toying with his Nagant Revolver, he then spatted on the ground beside him.
“My blood …” Rommel spoke the two words slowly and almost sadly.
The two men faced their backs to each other and began to take the required ten steps.
“one … two … three … five … six … seven… ”
“eight … nine …” Time itself seemed to slow down its pace to a stop.
“ten!”
Major Suminov turned back with lightning speed, and fired his revolver at level with a man’s heart. However Rommel was already in a prone position and Suminov’s shots missed. A gleaming silvery object was then fling out of Rommel’s hand.
“UURRRGGGHHHH!!” Major Suminov made a large groan as the broken blade from his sabre struck his throat. He felled to the ground, with his vision turning to a blood red blur. He then saw his opponent gradually coming to his side.
“You … you …” Suminov felt hot red blood pouring into his throat, almost choking his words.
“I did what you requested and humiliate you as best as I can. You are now a man who died of his own blade.” Rommel then silently walked away from the dying man.
“You …” Suminov streched out his hand at Rommel’s direction, but the hand fell to the ground as the man died drowning in his own blood.
“Impressive! Totally impressive!!” The Tsar seemed most delighted.
“I give you my apology by killing one of your man. However it was he who initiated the duel.” Rommel made a low bow while saying.
“Never mind the fool. He was being a real nuisiance to me lately, and I had already sought to get rid of him. You showed me some absolutely dominating combat skills, not to mention that you just saved my life, my man. I shall make you one of my honourary guards!”
“I am honoured, mon Empereur” said Rommel, still bowing lowly.
“I believed Major Rommel really impressed you, mon Empereur, however it will be nice if you may lead our delegation to where we can stay while at your magnificent country. I believe that we will have a lot of matters to discuss during our stay.” General Mercier said charmingly, and not forgetting to give Rommel a glance. A glance that seemed to make one’s bone shiver…
“Yes, I shall then personally lead all of you to my palace, my honourable guests. Please follow me.” The Tsar said warmly, and made another hand gesture. A few men then took the dead Suminov away from the ground. Some of the grass in the ground still stained with the blood of the dead Major …
A few hundred metres away, a hill beside the Royal Ground
“It seemed that Dimitri failed in killing that bastard with his explosive, Grigori” a man beside the man named Grigori said.
“Yes … but the French that won the duel now interest me more …” said Grigori, and took a telescope away from his his eye. “I shall keep an eye on him, hahahaha……” With a eerie laugh, Grigori and his companion left the scene without a trace.
“My blood …” Rommel spoke the two words slowly and almost sadly.
The two men faced their backs to each other and began to take the required ten steps.
“one … two … three … five … six … seven… ”
“eight … nine …” Time itself seemed to slow down its pace to a stop.
“ten!”
Major Suminov turned back with lightning speed, and fired his revolver at level with a man’s heart. However Rommel was already in a prone position and Suminov’s shots missed. A gleaming silvery object was then fling out of Rommel’s hand.
“UURRRGGGHHHH!!” Major Suminov made a large groan as the broken blade from his sabre struck his throat. He felled to the ground, with his vision turning to a blood red blur. He then saw his opponent gradually coming to his side.
“You … you …” Suminov felt hot red blood pouring into his throat, almost choking his words.
“I did what you requested and humiliate you as best as I can. You are now a man who died of his own blade.” Rommel then silently walked away from the dying man.
“You …” Suminov streched out his hand at Rommel’s direction, but the hand fell to the ground as the man died drowning in his own blood.
“Impressive! Totally impressive!!” The Tsar seemed most delighted.
“I give you my apology by killing one of your man. However it was he who initiated the duel.” Rommel made a low bow while saying.
“Never mind the fool. He was being a real nuisiance to me lately, and I had already sought to get rid of him. You showed me some absolutely dominating combat skills, not to mention that you just saved my life, my man. I shall make you one of my honourary guards!”
“I am honoured, mon Empereur” said Rommel, still bowing lowly.
“I believed Major Rommel really impressed you, mon Empereur, however it will be nice if you may lead our delegation to where we can stay while at your magnificent country. I believe that we will have a lot of matters to discuss during our stay.” General Mercier said charmingly, and not forgetting to give Rommel a glance. A glance that seemed to make one’s bone shiver…
“Yes, I shall then personally lead all of you to my palace, my honourable guests. Please follow me.” The Tsar said warmly, and made another hand gesture. A few men then took the dead Suminov away from the ground. Some of the grass in the ground still stained with the blood of the dead Major …
A few hundred metres away, a hill beside the Royal Ground
“It seemed that Dimitri failed in killing that bastard with his explosive, Grigori” a man beside the man named Grigori said.
“Yes … but the French that won the duel now interest me more …” said Grigori, and took a telescope away from his his eye. “I shall keep an eye on him, hahahaha……” With a eerie laugh, Grigori and his companion left the scene without a trace.
.........
This update was also done in a rush, so the content may be a bit messy and confusing. Again, sorry for this, but I got busier than ever with my university life these days. Please give me some suggestions, I may still want to edit this update a bit more. Thank you for reading
BTW, the man named Grigori is actually someone that I believe everyone of you know of. However, I won't be revealing his full name for now. Try guessing who he might be, or check wiki for a man with the name Grigori.
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Rasputín? Don't think so, too obvious.
And that major Suminov... what a real fool he was.
And that major Suminov... what a real fool he was.
Hehe. What kind of assasin shouts first and then tries to kill someone? :rofl:
Nice nice.
Nice nice.
BritishImperial said:
Yeah, I myself think that this update is a bit weird, but I can't think of how I can fix it now. Sorry for that.
..............
Ok, folks, now I want to do a little survey here. First look at this image.
So as you can see, there are no commies yet. My question is who wants Russia to be red? Please provide reasons for your answer if you can. Furthermore, please mention any other countries you wish to be commies if there are any. Countries that are not commies will most likely to turn right or even far right in my AAR. So for example if Russia will not become red she will then most likely to be ruled by someone like Putin. I'm initiating this survey because I want to start planning ahead for the future contents of my AAR.
Thank you for your help.
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Have a communist Brazil, Russia, Romania, maybe have a northern Chinese communist state, and a communist Spain.
thats just boring old almost real life countries. i'd like to see irish commies and a communist rising in america. though not one that has to succeed.