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March of the Habsborg
Chapter 6 - Sacrilege

The Borg quickly brushed the dandruff that was the Hannoverian army off their collective shoulder. Within thirteen months, they had established complete control over the countryside and forced Wilhelm to surrender. The terms of the peace accord had been generous. The only demand made of the Duke was that he convert back to the Catholic church, and that Papal authority be reinstated throughout Hannover. If Wilhelm had known the dark purpose behind this scheme, he might not have agreed to the terms so readily ...

Hannover
February 26,1583


Wilhelm was uneasy as he entered the chapel. It had been nearly four years since his forced conversion at the hands of the Emperor, and for most of that time Hannover's internal affairs had been left for him to handle. He had been certain that the Borg-possessed Habsburgs would end him (or at least, force him to serve the enigmatic Borg as they had with several other elector princes), but they had been content simply to convert him back to Catholicism and replace all the clergy in Hannover with men selected by the Emperor. The replacement process was just now being completed, with the new Archbishop of Hannover having arrived today.

Wilhelm looked around the chapel, but didn't see the new bishop, and surmised that he was in the rectory. Minutes later, Wilhelm was tapping on the rectory door, unknowingly about to seal his own fate.

Dresden
June 2, 1589


Christian I, Duke of Saxony awoke to find a man in his bedchamber. The stranger was tall and thin, and had a glint in his eye that unnerved Christian. The Duke pushed himself up with a start and was opening his mouth to call for the guards when the intruder spoke.

"Don't bother calling the guards, I'm not here to hurt you."

"Who are you?" Christian asked.

"Oh, I guess you could call me a concerned bystander," replied the mystery man. "Who I am is not as important as what I am about to tell you."

"And what is that?" Christian was trying to divert the man's attention while he stealthily reached for the dagger hidden under his pillow.

"Well first of all, I must tell you that I've already removed the knife from behind your pillow, if that's what you're looking for," said the stranger as he pulled the knife from the inner pocket of his cloak. While Christian's throat began entertaining a lump that had just decided to make a social call, the stranger tossed the knife into the opposite corner of the room, then continued. "Second, I must tell you that the Holy Roman Emperor is about to invade your realm."

"He wouldn't dare," scoffed Christian. "Saxony counts Russia, Denmark, and Brandenburg as allies."

"Your alliance will avail you not. The Borg have amassed too great of an army."

Recognition dawned on Christian's face at the mention of the Borg. "Ah, I see ... you have been sent by the Doge of Venice. Go and tell your master -"

Christian's reply was cut short by the stranger, who grabbed the Duke by the shoulders, yanked him out of bed, a shoved him against the wall, pinning him there. "We serve no master, you puny pile of carbon-based slop! We have chosen to intervene here to serve no interests but our own! The Borg have already taken control of Hannover's nobility and clergy, and the population is rapidly being assimilated. They will attack Saxony next, and unless you are prepared to fight them, your people will be assimilated as well. Now, go! And prepare your realm to meet its doom!"

With that, the mysterious man tossed Christian across the room like a Scottish caber. After recovering, Christian realized that the man had thrown him into the corner where the dagger had been tossed earlier. Hunching over so the stranger would not see his actions, the Duke picked up the knife. Then, screaming a hellacious scream, he whirled around and ran toward the intruder, knife brandished and ready for action.

But the man was no longer there.

Rome
February 28, 1594


It took a special sort of person with a special sort of wallet to garner an audience with the Pope. Doge Pasquale Cicogna was one such man. Clemens VIII was also "special", though in a more modern sense of the word. As the Doge approached the Papal Dais (TM), he noticed the Pontiff was drooling.

"Speak," said the Pope's assistant.

"I come, Your Eminence, to tell you of a demonic conspiracy that even now threatens to undermine the Church."

Clemens drooled in reply.

"Erm ... Your Illustriousness surely knows of House Habsburg's recent flurry of wars against various Electorates of the Holy Roman Empire. After forcibly converting Hannover back to the Church fifteen years ago, the Emperor annexed the Duchy just last year. Then there is Saxony, which was re-converted and forced to cede Hessen two years ago. Venice believes this to be the work of the perfidious demon Borg."

"How dare you -" began the assistant, forgetting himself. Bending over, he pretended to listen to the Pope's reply before rising and speaking again. "How dare you imply that the Emperor's holy work is that of the Adversary! He is bringing the word of God back those who had forsaken Him!"

"Your ..." Cicogna pulled out his pocket thesaurus. "Your Gloriousness, this Borg demon is merely using the Church as a way of disguising its true intentions. After reinstalling Catholicism in Hannover and Saxony, the demon appointed possessed clergymen throughout those realms, and those clergymen have engineered the possession of their parishes."

"Enough!" shouted the advisor. "Guards!"

And with that, two burly Swiss Guards grabbed the Doge and tossed him out into the streets of Rome. After emptying his pockets, of course.

Who will the Borg target next? Who is the mysterious stranger who is trying to undermine their conquest?
Read March of the Habsborg, Chapter 7 - Enemy Ascendant to find out!
 
"Your ..." Cicogna pulled out his pocket thesaurus. "Your Gloriousness..."
:rofl:
So - the Borg have penetrated even the hallowed halls of the Vatican. But it seems there is hope yet for humanity - or is it merely the empty hope of being assimilated by someone other than the Borg! :eek:
 
BORG?! HERE?! How could I missed this!! Mea culpa. :) But from now on I won't miss a slightest update...

J. Passepartout said:
May we assume that man in Christian's bedroom was Q?
Or maybe Captain Braxton of the 29th century, who wants to prevent changing of the timeline? :)
 
Sorry for the silence folks, but RL and the Cup Finals have kept me away from the board lately. Now that the Flames have been extinguished, perhaps I shall have more time to devote to this undertaking.

Farquharson: The Pope is not yet under Borg influence; he's just a moron. (Hence the term "special", in the modern sense of the word.) A common lament among residents of the Vatican. ;)

JP: You may assume whatever you wish. Whether your assumptions are correct or not will be revealed in due time ...

Zenek K.: Is it just me, or is Enterprise becoming nearly as difficult to follow as X-files was?

jwolf: Aw c'mon, you know you want to cheer for the bad guys ...

I'm working on the next chapter, but it might be a few more days. It's turning out to be quite long, so I may have to split it up a bit, at the risk of disrupting the flow of events a bit. Trouble is, the next fifty years or so involve a sequence of events that really can't be broken up without mystifying the reader, yet attempting to condense them into one normal-length chapter would result in an awful hack job. It will also contain some interesting screenshots, which admittedly have been a rarity thus far.
 
i can't say i'm much of a trek fan, but i'm definatly a fan of this AAR.

keep up the good work, crimson!
 
March of the Habsborg
Chapter 7 - Enemy Ascendant

Moscow
April 1, 1600


Boris Godunov, Tsar of all Russians, pondered his realm's latest quandary as he waited in his quarters for General Basmanov to arrive. While it was a pity that the Habsburgs' religious zeal had found a new target in Russia's longtime ally Brandenburg, Russia could ill-afford a war at the present time, what with all the dissention amongst the ranks of the nobility. But neither could the Tsar forsake an ally lightly. Unable to decide himself, Godunov had called his top general in for advice.

"Enter," called the Tsar upon hearing the knock at his door. Basmanov entered and closed the door behind him.

"You summoned me, sir?"

Without a word, the Tsar handed Basmanov the dispatch from Brandenburg. The general read the note, refolded it, and returned it to the Tsar. "We should join the Germans and Danes immediately, sir."

Godunov raised his eyebrows in surprise. "And what of all the Empire's internal problems? Not to mention the threat posed by the heathen Turk ..."

"Begging your pardon, Tsar, but if the Venetians are correct regarding the true nature of the Habsburgs' expansionism, then Russia may very well be lost regardless of whether or not we intervene in this matter. Speaking only for myself, I would rather go down fighting."

"You make a good point," replied the Tsar. "But is it truly worth the risk? Brandenburg is something of a strategic backwater, after all."

"True as far as it goes, sir, but Brandenburg is not the target of the Habsburgs' aggression."

The Tsar furrowed his brow. "The dispatch you just read seems to indicate otherwise."

"The dispatch notes that Saxony and Denmark, both far more powerful than Brandenburg, have already chosen to intervene. They are Austria's true targets in this war, not Berlin. Saxony will be forced to become a tributary Duchy under the Emperor's fist, while Denmark and Brandenburg will likely be forced to convert back to the Catholic Church. If the Emperor takes control of Saxony, he will have nearly all of the Holy Roman Empire under his direct rule. We cannot allow that to happen, Tsar."

Godunov thought it over for a moment, then sighed and rendered his decision. "Very well, make the necessary preparations."

"At once, Tsar." And turning on his heels, Basmanov left the room. He quickly walked through the palace back to his chambers, suppressing a smile. Entering his private quarters, he crossed over to the bed, where the real Basmanov lay, tied and gagged, just as he had left him.

With a bright flash, the false Basmanov was no longer the false Basmanov, but the stranger who had appeared out of thin air in Basmanov's chamber shortly after the Tsar had summoned him. Bending over so that he could be face to face with Basmanov, the mysterious man spoke.

"And now, my dear general, it is time for you to make some preparations. You've got a war to fight."

And with a snap of the stranger's fingers and another flash, Basmanov found himself standing in his chamber, no longer bound. The man who had briefly impersonated him was nowhere to be seen.


Rome
December 5, 1606


The new Pope, Paulus V (who was not quite as "special" as his predecessor) was bent over a map of Europe with Cardinal Sicofantius, discussing the recent Austrian religious wars.

"You can see by this map, Your Eminence, how the Habsburgs have all but destroyed Lutheranism in Europe."

Screen042.jpg


"The white and tan areas are nations that follow the true faith, while the blue areas are Lutheran heretics, the brown schismatics, and the green heathens. Note also that the Duchy of Saxony, which controls most of the northern german provinces, is a direct vassal of the Habsburg Emperor."

"How did the Habsburgs accomplish all this?"

"Well, as you well know, the Emperor declared war on Brandenburg five and half years ago. Despite being allied to Russia, Denmark, and Saxony, attempts to oppose Rudolf's will availed them not, and through separate peace deals the Austrians converted Denmark and Brandenburg back to the Church and made Saxony a tributary duchy. The Russians, succumbing to internal problems, agreed to a truce rather than face the might of the Habsburg armies alone."

"The Heavenly Father surely smiles upon House Habsburg."

"Ah, but it gets better, Your Eminence. For just last year the Habsburgs successfully Crushed the Heretics during a Protestant Rebellion in Hungary. Quite a neat trick, really, given that Lutheranism was eradicated from Hungary some ten years ago. Then there is the matter of Russia's recent disintegration, which was certainly assisted by her deplorable performance in the Emperor's war against Brandenburg. You can see on this map here how the Tsar's lands have fractured into the realms of Novgorod, Tver, Ryazan, and Kazan."

Screen043.jpg


"Truly, the Habsburgs walk with Christ."

"Truly."


Warsaw
June 1, 1611


Zygmunt Wasa, King of Poland, awoke with a start. There was a strange man in his bedchamber, shaking him. He could also hear someone pounding on his chamber door. Before he could collect his thoughts, the man spoke.

"Wake up, Zygmunt. The Borg are coming for you." And with that, the stranger vanished.

Shaking his head to clear his cranial cobwebs, Zygmunt crossed the room and opened the door to discover the source of the vociferous knocking. It was General Zolkiewski.

"Fell news, sire ... we are being invaded by the Habsburgs!"

"Where?" asked the king.

"They are pouring over the border, sir - more than one hundred thousand strong. They have invaded Küstrin, Krakow, Galizien, Moldova, Wallachia, and Serbia. The lead army, which routed Stanislaw Lubomirski's forces and is now besieging Krakow, is commanded by General von Mercy. He appears to be directing the campaign from his camp outside the city."

"Has the Sejm been convened?"

"They are assembling as we speak."

"Very well. I shall address them, while you prepare the cavalry to ride. We leave for Krakow at noon."


Outside the City of Warsaw
October 11, 1613


Stanislaw Lubomirski kept a sharp eye on the King's signal flag. The artillery had already ceased firing, presumably because they had run out of ammunition, and the charge on von Mercy's siege force would begin as soon as the flag dropped.

For Poland, the war had gone about as well as Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman's final night on the town. von Mercy's inexorable march through western Poland had cut a swath of destruction through Krakow and Podlasia, and he was now laying siege to the capital of Warsaw. His subordinates had captured Gniezno, Poznan, Lwow, Czernowitz, Ochakov, Kherson, Iasi, Belgrade, and Bucharest, putting nearly all of western Poland under Habsburg control. Poland's future, if there was to be one, would be decided in this final attempt to break von Mercy's siege.

Looking again to the hilltop from which King Zygmunt commanded the Polish forces, Lubomirski saw the signal flag raise to its full height. Unsheating his sword, he relayed the order to his men. "Prepare to charge!" The tintillation of swords being drawn followed.

The flag dropped. "Charge!" yelled Lubomirski, spurring his horse and leading what was left of Poland-Lithuania's cavalry across the field in their last, desperate gambit to escape Habsburg domination.

Is this the end of stalwart Poland?
Read March of the Habsborg, Chapter 8 - Master of Malevolence to find out!
 
Great to see the Borg back in action! But who are these mysterious visitors to royal bedchambers who are trying to stop them? And will they be able to save Poland? (Ha! fat chance methinks...) Keep up the good work.
 
So, the Q is this mysterious visitor... Is he trying to create an alliance to stop the Habsborg? Russia is no more, but at this point of the game, could you resist joint forces of 2-3 major powers (for example Spain, France or England)?

This AAR is different than others - you play as Austria, but you don't tell us about micromanaging this country. Instead you describe your actions from view of other countries. Anyway, you do it in a great style. Keep it up!
 
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Farquharson: There is only one visitor; he simply knows how to get around. ;)

Zenek K.: Patience; all shall be revealed ... in time. Regarding the style, it was more or less a necessity. I can't very well write scenes of Borg drones discussing their next move, now can I? :)

And now, the next breathtaking installment, in which the Borg's conquest grow yet bolder ...
 
March of the Habsborg
Chapter 8 - Master of Malevolence

Outside the City of Warsaw
October 11, 1613


Lubomirski's cavalry tore into the ranks of the Borg drones like a hungry mongrel's teeth into a Snausage. The carnage was horrific; arms, legs, hoses, and nanoprobe injectors salted the air, while spilled blood and hydraulic fluid turned the ground a shade of reddish green that visitors to the battle site later acknowledged as quite becoming the city. But no matter how many drones were relieved of limb, head, and implant, yet more remained.

Still, Lubomirski was beginning to feel optimistic. The enemy infantry was overwhelmed, and could not effectively resist his cavalry's charge. Only an artillery bombardment could stop him now, and such a shelling would kill Pole and Habsborg alike. So, it came as some surprise to Lubomirski when the Borg guns opened fire, raining cannonballs upon the melee like so many meteors upon an atmospherically challenged planetoid.

These vile bastards are killing their own rather than allow us our victory, thought Lubomirski. And as he filled his lungs to sound a retreat, a shell impact burst before his horse, knocking him unconscious to the ground. Before he could fully regain his faculties, two drones lifted him by his arms to his feet. A third stood in front of him, its nanoprobe injector tracing a path to his left eye.


King Zygmunt's Camp

Zygmunt watched the Habsburg artillery fire upon their own infantry with disgust. "Signal a retreat," he commanded. But his order was given in vain, for few horsemen were able to escape the destruction. It appeared the siege of Warsaw would not be lifted; the city would fall. Emperor Rudolf would surely insist the return of Serbia, and might demand even more, such was the totality of Poland's defeat.

The cry of his aide broke Zygmunt's concentration. "Sir! General Lubomirski looks to have survived ... here he comes now!"

"That is indeed good news," replied the king. "Hmm ... he appears to be wounded. My God, did he lose an eye in all that havoc? The whole left side of his face is ..." The king's voice trailed off as he realized what had happened.

"Sir?" queried the aide.

"We must ride. Now!" But by then it was too late, for a dozen Borg riders were already galloping up the other side of the hilltop. Zygmunt had been captured.

The drone formerly known as Lubomirski rode up to the King as two other drones were unhorsing him. Dismounting, the Lubomirski drone walked up to Zygmunt and stated flatly, "We are the Borg. Your culture will adapt to service ours. Resistance is futile."


Deck of the HMS Enterprise
Dogger Bank
April 5, 1622


"Sail ho!"

Captain Jonathan Archer looked up from his charts and peered out to where the lookout was pointing. After spotting the sail on the horizon, he removed his telescope from his pocket and got a closer look. "It's a bloody Habsburg ship! What the hell are they doing out here?"

"Perhaps they've been blown off course, sir?" suggested the first officer.

"More sails, sir!" shouted the lookout.

Archer looked out again. "Off course, indeed! Take a look at this," he said, handing the telescope to his first officer.

"Dear God, that's an invasion fleet!"

"Reverse course immediately. We must get back to port and forward news of this to London," Archer ordered.

"We'll never outrun them, sir."

"Well, we sure as hell won't defeat them in combat, so as I see it we've little -" Archer's words were cut short by the sound of the Austrian flagship firing a single cannon. The ball hit the water with a mighty sploosh, fifty yards ahead of the Enterprise.


London
June 6, 1622


The royal court erupted in fake laughter at James' retelling of the hackneyed How many Catholics does it take to light a candle? joke for the thousand-oddth time. Curious, he thought. They never seem to tire of that one. Just as he was about to begin regaling the assembled bootlickers with his collection of Spanish Navy jokes, a royal messenger sped into the room.

Now, when this sort of thing has happened previously in this AAR, bad news has always been delivered. Specifically, news of a Habsburg invasion has been presented. This case is no exception. In the interest of brevity (the soul of wit and bandwidth), let us not concern ourselves with the conversation between messenger and king, filled as it undoubtedly was with royal protocol and other such wasteful wordsmithery. Suffice to say, King James was most upset to learn that a Habsburg invasion army of twenty thousand men had landed in Yorkshire, routed the thirty-six thousand defenders, and set up a siege of York. And surely the news that a second invasion force was already being offloaded in Kent was not welcomed. Unless of course one considers the beheading of a royal messenger to be a positive response to the news delivered thereby.

Far less tedious than reading some trite conversation, don't you agree?

Now let us tap the hourglass of time a bit, so as to speed up the passage of the sand into the bottom half. We shall not bother to examine in detail the vicious manner in which the Borg occupied all of England proper over the course of the next three years. Nor shall we be troubled by the details of how the Borg sacked London and invaded the English colonies in the Americas. It is all rather boring really, since as was mentioned earlier, the main English army was routed within days of the first Borg landing. To say that the Borg crushed England would be like saying that Ronald Reagan barely defeated Walter Mondale.


London
June 26, 1625


Crowds of Britons rushed into their houses as the carriage carrying the Habsburg commander wove its way through the streets of London. The carriage eventually stopped in front of the Palace of Whitehall, and its occupant stepped out. It was a brute of a drone if ever there was one, with a huge red eyepiece and a faceplate that covered nearly half of its countenance. Curiously, it sported a moustache and beard in the classic Viennese style, thus proving that even cybernetic lifeforms have a sense of fashion.

As it strode up to the Palace, which was still smoldering thanks to Borg artillery bombardments, it was met by one of the king's servants, who led it to the royal court. James addressed it with contempt.

"Well, if you bastards are quite finished burning my kingdom to the ground, I'm ready to hear your terms. I am prepared to hand over England's colonial possessions," began the king.

"Your colonies are irrelevant," responded the drone.

"Surely you do not think that the crowns of Europe will allow you to -"

"Their opinions are irrelevant."

"See here, who the hell do you think you are?!"

Wally.jpg


"I am Wallenstein of Borg. Your life, as it has been, is over. From this time forward, you will service us. Resistance is futile."


Can anything stop Wallenstein and the Borg juggernaut?
Read March of the Habsborg, Chapter 9 - Champion of Freedom to find out!
 
:rofl: :rofl:

I LIKED IT!!!!

"Your colonies are irrelevant"

For some reason, it remind me of that esp. of when Vorlon second Kosh say that. (The one before "Into the Fire" in Babylon 5)

"THEY ARE IRRELEVANT"

:rofl: :rofl:

Loved the Enterprise ship :)

Loved to see more update!!!

Joe (Sapphire)
 
England was crushed. So my doubts from last post were dispelled.
What about Poland and England? You only vassalized them, or you took also some provs?

As to narration, you are absolutely right. I don't think it would be fun to listen Borg's "Resistance is futile" all the time. :)
Nice picture you made. :)
 
EEEK! But I thought that at least England's green and pleasant shores were sacrosanct! How could this happen? Surely the last bastion of civilization has now fallen and humanity has nothing left to hope for but the blessed release of oblivion... Great update! :D
 
Sapphire: Thanks. :)

Zenek K.:Actually, I'm pretty sure that if Poland and France had teamed up against me, I would have only been able to force a stalemate. An Ottoman / French alliance would have also been a bother. But really, once Austria inherits Hungary and Bohemia, her manpower is too much for an AI nation to handle. Even more so if Austria retains the Netherlands. As for Poland and England, they were both vassalized. (Generally, whenever you see a monarch assimilated in the story, it means his nation has been vassalized.)

Farquharson: Nonsense. France is still a bastion of civilization. For now ...

Next chapter should be up this weekend.

EDIT: It appears I was somewhat hasty with that prediction. The weather in the Northeast was absolutely glorious this weekend. As a result, I spent most of my time (a) playing roller hockey and (b) lounging on the lawn with a frosty Saranac and my copy of Don Quixote in an attempt (vain thus far) to even out the silly-looking farmer's tan I received while playing roller hockey. So I'm afraid that if you want to see the next installment sometime soon, you'll have to do a rain dance. :D
 
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I Happen to know as a fact that there has been rain in the northeast of late. Where is our update, hmmm?