Chapter 39: Two Would-Be Unions of Nations
The next morning saw the Roman Emperor retching his guts out into the toilet.
“He’s been in there for hours,” Alan said, by the door.
“Not surprising. Whatever drug cocktail those dratted Swedes put in conference hall were enough to dose everyone there to the moon and back.” Bean-Counter was sat nearby at a portable desk. “Herpes was telling me that the White House hit the roof when they all came to earlier today. I shudder to think what the reaction in Whitehall is going to be.”
“Indeed. What a mess. We unnecessarily antagonised the Allies, the Americans basically stole the entire Indochinese coastline from the British, and Churchill is left with nothing but war bills and what he had from before the war.”
“It’s not going to end well. This was supposed to calm Asia and push back any future problems far into the future. Instead, we’ve got three great powers next to each other, all angry and with competing claims. It’s like 1914 all over again.”
“We need to start recalling our forces, and getting them to Africa and the Middle East. I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but better safe than sorry.”
“Agreed. Catastrophe is already on his way back to Rome. We’ll reconvene there and have a rethink about what to do. Mark my words though, things are going to be heating up before long.”
…
17th September 1942
“One of our agents in Rebel French Africa has been killed.”
Catastrophe paused in his note-taking, and glanced up.
“What on earth was she doing there?”
“SIM got to thinking that Rebel France is so pathetic at this point that we might be able to get them to just give up and become a collaboration government.”
“Is that at all likely?”
“She got surprisingly far before being stopped. So, we might even try again.”
“Is it even worth the hassle of flipping Rebel France?”
“Not really. Now they just have their sub-Saharan territories, Madagascar, and whatever random bits of islands in the Atlantic and Pacific left. Most of the competent or useful French nationals have long since returned to France and become Roman citizens. We’re basically just trying to take out a pathetic puppet of the British government at this point, and shut de Gaulle up.”
“Any chance the British had anything to do with this?”
“Probably. We’ll know in a few days when some idiot in London starts boasting about it.”
“Well, Churchill must still want at least some token of French resistance in West Africa,” Catastrophe said, turning his gaze to a map on the wall. “He knows that the British alone will struggle to stop us in Egypt and Arabia. We don’t even have to bother with reinforcing our allies and puppets in Europe anymore, they’re strong and plentiful enough to at least hold the line against the few remaining Allies there.”
“Yes…Estonia and Poland are particularly vulnerable. I can’t see them lasting long in a war, even a proxy war. Denmark and Norway maybe, especially with the US in Finland backing them up. SIM have been receiving dozens of reports that the British are infiltrating Sweden. No doubt they’re going to extract some terrible revenge on those pricks for the mess that was the Wuhan Treaty.”
“Bastards deserve what they get. Still, if the British can flip Sweden…they’ll have a unified Scandinavian front to serve as a large fortress in Europe for their ships, planes and armies.”
“If that happens, it becomes vital to take out Estonia, Poland and Denmark immediately. Limit the front down to the barest amount, and force the British to go either through the Danish Straits or Russia to get back into Europe.”
“Quite. I may want to pull Kaboom from the Suez run to get that sorted.”
“I don’t think he’ll like that…”
“Indeed. What a shame.”
…
13th October 1942
“The news is out. Sweden has joined the Allies.”
The rain pelted down the windows of the Alpine fortress, adding to the gloom settling in amongst the commanders and leaders of the Roman Empire, and her Allies.
“We can take them!” piped up Adolf Hitler, from the playpen in the corner. He was quickly hushed by his nanny, a large and angry black Jewish homosexual.
“Can they actually take them?” the Emperor said from his throne.
“We think so, Mighty Cheesare,” newly promoted Field Marshal Catastrophe said. “Poland and Estonia are set to fall very quickly should war break out. Denmark will be harder to crack as Germany will be focused in the east, but should be at least contained till reinforcements arrive.”
“Good. What has the Swedish response to our ambassador’s note been?”
“They say they are committed to peace through strength, and that in these uncertain times, they must stand firm with their neighbours against any and all threats.”
“Bugger. So, they actually do plan on perhaps fighting…”
The meeting continued for several more minutes before the Russian representatives could contain themselves no longer.
“In such times as these, and with the impending British Federation showing the way, should we not unite ourselves under one banner? My country and my countrymen have a great love and admiration for the Roman Empire and her people, and everything they have done for us over the past few years. You have saved us from tyranny, and the worst possible fates from a government filled with monsters.”
Everyone looked over at the Nazi playpen, which was in turmoil as Goering and Goebbels once again seemed to be trying to unify into one being. Everyone quickly looked away.
“Yes…what do you propose then?” Bean-Counter said, ever cautious of his precious account books.
“We want unification of our own. To become part of the Roman Empire itself, and for our citizens to become your citizens in full.”
“And…this would be accepted?” Alan said, in the shocked silence that followed.
“It would. It has been popularly demonstrated about for months now. The army is already all for it. The government and civil service too. Just about everyone else is either for or ambivalent at the least.”
This created some movement and murmuring amongst many delegates and officials, before the Emperor brought them to order again. The representatives for Belarus and Ukraine also stood.
“We would, if Russia were to be accepted into the Empire, also wish to press our claim as well. Our countries would be nothing without yours, and we, all that remains that is, can never repay the debt we owe except by coming together.”
The Emperor raised his hand before every other puppet felt the need to either shout their own offer or refusal aloud. “This matter…I must admit, is of some surprise to me. It is welcome, I think, though we have no wish to take away any nation’s autonomy or independence should they not wish it. Our Imperial history shows the perils of overextension and overexertion. I therefore put it to you all that-”
He was suddenly interrupted by King Victor Emmanuel leaning over to whisper in his ear. The two and a brief and quiet discussion, before the Emperor nodded.
“I therefore put it to you all that such a move may be countenanced, should a fair and democratic vote be passed in each territory that so wishes to apply for entry into the empire, and that a full two-thirds majority of citizens indeed wish to enter our covenant. This is not a timed or obligatory offer, more an indication of our continuing support and loyalty towards our friends. Please fell no obligation to discuss the matter further, unless there is genuine desire in your countries to join our own. Thank you.”
…
18th November 1942
The radio was on as loud as could be, as the Imperial Cabinet, High Command and various friends and relations sat around to listen to Prime Minister Winston Churchill speak to the world.
“The mad bastard did it,” the Emperor mused quietly. “An achievement, to be sure. As dangerous as it is.”
“Listen and wait,” Alan whispered back. “He hasn’t mentioned India yet.”
Everyone craned their heads forwards as the Raj indeed was brought up. And the bombshell was dropped.
The British Commonwealth of Nations had arrived.
And the British Raj was not coming with them.
