11-23-2025, 09:01 AM
Being alone with fear can rapidly turn into panic. Being alone with frustration can rapidly turn into anger. Being alone with disappointment can rapid turn into discouragement and, even worse, despair.
- Mark Goulston
Throughout Milintica, fear was rapidly sliding into panic.
In the cities, people were desperately scrambling to escape to the countryside to flee the expected Xiomeran invasion. Vehicles clogged the already strained roads and highways leading them to any perceived safe haven. Contending with these traffic jams, the People's Army was trying to get into position. The limited capacity of the Milintican military to move soldiers was stretched to its absolute limit.
In private vehicles, and even on foot, thousands more Milinticans hastily drafted by the Arana regime were slowly arriving at the various bunkers, emplacements and defense lines that successive generations of paranoid Milintican leaders had constructed. The concrete maze of these fortifications was being manned by a mix of People's Army soldiers, Red Wave Guards and PFM guerrilas. These were being supplemented with any civilian that Arana's minions could round up, slap a gun into their hands, and shove into a bunker. Despite the exhortations of the political officers and party cadres among them, these men and women were not eager for battle. There was absolutely zero confidence among them, and many of them were only there because they would catch a bullet from their own government if they didn't catch it from the Xiomerans.
On the Milintican defense lines, panic was reigning.
It was reigning at Haven House also. Neina Arana and her circle were finally beginning to realize that her bid to use Xiomera as a convenient scapegoat to rally the Milintican people behind her had backfired very, very badly. The collection of sycophants, deluded fools and blinders-wearing true believers Arana had surrounded herself with had misjudged Empress Calhualyana. Arana had also misjudged the Empress, and Xiomera. Arana and her circle had been very confident that Xiomera had no will to wage war, given the Empire's commitments in Taragai and around the world. Rattling sabers over Aoatea and using the captured Xiomeran spies would make Arana look strong, unite the country behind her finally, and cement her position no matter what election scandal whining that Huenya, or anyone else, did.
The Empire is only a threat on paper. They're overstretched and overcommitted. They don't have the will to attack us, and don't have the resources to do so even if they had the will. That was what Neina Arana had believed, and what her circle had been more than happy to stamp "yes" on with nodding heads and happy smiles.
But they hadn't counted on one thing: Empress Calhualyana finally growing tired of people believing all that. The Xiomeran failure in Auria - and it could not honestly be described as anything other than a failure - had been a retreat. Backing down in Huenya and abandoning the Golden Blade insurgents after President Xiadani had threatened to turn Tlālacuetztla into Caxcana's largest pile of glass-topped radioactive rubble - another retreat. Even in Taragai, Xiomera was being challenged and expected to retreat.
But Milintica - Milintica - the broke, broken-down, basketcase tiny country that was the longest-running and worst joke this side of Salad Land - they had the temerity to challenge the Xiomeran Empire. To think that the jaguar could be forced to bend knee to the clown. To use the Golden Sun Banner to wipe their nose, or other things, and mock Xiomera.
That had finally been the last straw. If Milintica was no longer afraid of the Empire, then clearly, Xiomera had been too lax, in the opinion of the Empress and her own inner circle at the Palace of Flowers. A lesson had to be delivered, to remind the world that Xiomera, even now, was not to be trifled with or disregarded. To remind everyone that the jaguar still had its claws and fangs, and still knew how to use them.
The swift, single-day destruction of Milintica's entire air force and navy was the beginning of that reminder. What might complete the lesson was what was causing panic now in the halls of Haven House. Blame, recriminations, insults, incoherent suggestions and plans filled the air of Neina Arana's presidential residence until one could practically see the desperation in the air. What was not emerging was any viable, possible response that could save Milintica from the jaguar whose gaping maw was about to swallow their country whole.
---
There is no panic you can't allay, no problem you can't solve.
- Lauren Weisberger
A different form of panic, and a different response to it, was taking shape rapidly in the nation that stood geographically and figuratively between Milintica and Xiomera.
In Chuaztlapoc, President Xiadani was holding an emergency meeting of her Cabinet, and the Federation Security Council. The FSC consisted of the heads of the branches of Huenya's military and intelligence services. It was not going to be a long meeting. The next steps that Huenya was about to take had been planned long before this. Neina Arana, as expected, had blundered herself right into a war she couldn't possibly win and a conquest she couldn't possibly fend off.
And the Empire, always hungry, was ready to take Milintica down like a jaguar against its prey.
Not today, Xiadani thought. No one else in Caxcana, never again.
The President finally spoke the words that everyone in the room had been waiting for. "Operation Manahuia is a go."
With those words, multiple things began to happen like cogs whirring to life inside a machine. Secretary of State Huitzilhuani returned to her office and handed a tablet with a list on it to her assistant. "I'll need to speak to the Eirians first. We need to get our volunteers over to Milintica ASAP and they've got boats and planes to help us, hopefully. Then, I need to start calling around to the rest of our contacts to see who is willing to help. Start with the Lauchenoirians, they despise Arana and Calhualyana as much as we do."
At his own office, Defense Secretary Tlanexchel was making a call of his own. "Wind up the volunteers," was all he said. On the other end of the line, Texōccoatl grinned broadly. Huenya's new tlacochcalcatl (High General) had been waiting for this moment.
At the headquarters of the Federal Intelligence Service, FIS Director Cuetlancaona made his own call. "Time to unleash Tezcatlipoca," was all he said. On the other end of the line, Yarepil let out an eager yell and hung up. Cuetlancaona, on the other end of the line, shook his head wryly to recover from the shout that had echoed through the receiver.
Tezcatlipoca was, among other things, the god of chaos. And Yarepil's division of the FIS was about to deliver a lot of chaos to the Empire.
- Mark Goulston
Throughout Milintica, fear was rapidly sliding into panic.
In the cities, people were desperately scrambling to escape to the countryside to flee the expected Xiomeran invasion. Vehicles clogged the already strained roads and highways leading them to any perceived safe haven. Contending with these traffic jams, the People's Army was trying to get into position. The limited capacity of the Milintican military to move soldiers was stretched to its absolute limit.
In private vehicles, and even on foot, thousands more Milinticans hastily drafted by the Arana regime were slowly arriving at the various bunkers, emplacements and defense lines that successive generations of paranoid Milintican leaders had constructed. The concrete maze of these fortifications was being manned by a mix of People's Army soldiers, Red Wave Guards and PFM guerrilas. These were being supplemented with any civilian that Arana's minions could round up, slap a gun into their hands, and shove into a bunker. Despite the exhortations of the political officers and party cadres among them, these men and women were not eager for battle. There was absolutely zero confidence among them, and many of them were only there because they would catch a bullet from their own government if they didn't catch it from the Xiomerans.
On the Milintican defense lines, panic was reigning.
It was reigning at Haven House also. Neina Arana and her circle were finally beginning to realize that her bid to use Xiomera as a convenient scapegoat to rally the Milintican people behind her had backfired very, very badly. The collection of sycophants, deluded fools and blinders-wearing true believers Arana had surrounded herself with had misjudged Empress Calhualyana. Arana had also misjudged the Empress, and Xiomera. Arana and her circle had been very confident that Xiomera had no will to wage war, given the Empire's commitments in Taragai and around the world. Rattling sabers over Aoatea and using the captured Xiomeran spies would make Arana look strong, unite the country behind her finally, and cement her position no matter what election scandal whining that Huenya, or anyone else, did.
The Empire is only a threat on paper. They're overstretched and overcommitted. They don't have the will to attack us, and don't have the resources to do so even if they had the will. That was what Neina Arana had believed, and what her circle had been more than happy to stamp "yes" on with nodding heads and happy smiles.
But they hadn't counted on one thing: Empress Calhualyana finally growing tired of people believing all that. The Xiomeran failure in Auria - and it could not honestly be described as anything other than a failure - had been a retreat. Backing down in Huenya and abandoning the Golden Blade insurgents after President Xiadani had threatened to turn Tlālacuetztla into Caxcana's largest pile of glass-topped radioactive rubble - another retreat. Even in Taragai, Xiomera was being challenged and expected to retreat.
But Milintica - Milintica - the broke, broken-down, basketcase tiny country that was the longest-running and worst joke this side of Salad Land - they had the temerity to challenge the Xiomeran Empire. To think that the jaguar could be forced to bend knee to the clown. To use the Golden Sun Banner to wipe their nose, or other things, and mock Xiomera.
That had finally been the last straw. If Milintica was no longer afraid of the Empire, then clearly, Xiomera had been too lax, in the opinion of the Empress and her own inner circle at the Palace of Flowers. A lesson had to be delivered, to remind the world that Xiomera, even now, was not to be trifled with or disregarded. To remind everyone that the jaguar still had its claws and fangs, and still knew how to use them.
The swift, single-day destruction of Milintica's entire air force and navy was the beginning of that reminder. What might complete the lesson was what was causing panic now in the halls of Haven House. Blame, recriminations, insults, incoherent suggestions and plans filled the air of Neina Arana's presidential residence until one could practically see the desperation in the air. What was not emerging was any viable, possible response that could save Milintica from the jaguar whose gaping maw was about to swallow their country whole.
---
There is no panic you can't allay, no problem you can't solve.
- Lauren Weisberger
A different form of panic, and a different response to it, was taking shape rapidly in the nation that stood geographically and figuratively between Milintica and Xiomera.
In Chuaztlapoc, President Xiadani was holding an emergency meeting of her Cabinet, and the Federation Security Council. The FSC consisted of the heads of the branches of Huenya's military and intelligence services. It was not going to be a long meeting. The next steps that Huenya was about to take had been planned long before this. Neina Arana, as expected, had blundered herself right into a war she couldn't possibly win and a conquest she couldn't possibly fend off.
And the Empire, always hungry, was ready to take Milintica down like a jaguar against its prey.
Not today, Xiadani thought. No one else in Caxcana, never again.
The President finally spoke the words that everyone in the room had been waiting for. "Operation Manahuia is a go."
With those words, multiple things began to happen like cogs whirring to life inside a machine. Secretary of State Huitzilhuani returned to her office and handed a tablet with a list on it to her assistant. "I'll need to speak to the Eirians first. We need to get our volunteers over to Milintica ASAP and they've got boats and planes to help us, hopefully. Then, I need to start calling around to the rest of our contacts to see who is willing to help. Start with the Lauchenoirians, they despise Arana and Calhualyana as much as we do."
At his own office, Defense Secretary Tlanexchel was making a call of his own. "Wind up the volunteers," was all he said. On the other end of the line, Texōccoatl grinned broadly. Huenya's new tlacochcalcatl (High General) had been waiting for this moment.
At the headquarters of the Federal Intelligence Service, FIS Director Cuetlancaona made his own call. "Time to unleash Tezcatlipoca," was all he said. On the other end of the line, Yarepil let out an eager yell and hung up. Cuetlancaona, on the other end of the line, shook his head wryly to recover from the shout that had echoed through the receiver.
Tezcatlipoca was, among other things, the god of chaos. And Yarepil's division of the FIS was about to deliver a lot of chaos to the Empire.
<t></t>