History of Transvaal (Volume IV)



THE HISTORY OF TRANSVAAL - Volume IV (September 2009 to July 2010)

Published by the Department of Education, Republic of Transvaal, Pretoria, 2009

Volume IV is preceded by History of Transvaal (Volume III) =Annetjie van Matteus' foreign visits= SEPTEMBER 2, 2009

The following embassies in Pretoria received notice today from Foreign Minister Hendrik Strijdom that Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus was requesting travel visas to visit their nations: Please forward any necessary questions attention to Prime Minister's Office, Government House, Pretoria.
 * Tahoe
 * Arctica
 * Repubblica Italiana
 * The United Nation of Serca
 * Hanseatic League / Commonwealth

SEPTEMBER 3, 2009

REPLY FROM REPUBBLICA ITALIANA: The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Italian Republic granted a temporary visa to Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus

REPLY FROM TAHOE: Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus has been granted a diplomatic visa. The Foreign Ministry inquires into her proposed itinerary for visiting Tahoe.

TRANSVAAL FOREIGN MINISTRY RESPONSE TO TAHOE: These are all going to be quick stop-over visits so she can touch base with some of our closest allies and powerful friends (or nations we admire). Basically fly-in, meet with leadership, answer any pressing concerns, and then depart.

That said but she may stay a little longer in Tahoe to scout out boarding schools for her daughter - who is entering first grade. Van Matteus wants to send her overseas so that she (her daughter) does not become a political pawn within the Transvaler education system.

TAHOE REPLY TO TRANSVAAL FOREIGN MINISTRY: Very well. The Prime Minister is schedualed to fly into Cruachan where she will dine with the President at his private residence in the City. Afterwards she can meet with the Cabinet for a semi-pubic press conference (i.e. all questions and answers will be published but the meeting will not be open to the public). She can spend the night in Cruachan and in the morning tour private schools. If she wishes to tour schools in Cruachan that can be arranged as can a tour of another city.

REPLY FROM THE UNITED NATION OF SERCA: Emperor Sergio II Grants Prime Minister van Matteus a diplomatic visa.

REPLY FROM ARCTICA: "Van Matteus is welcome to visit Arctica. When she's ready, just land at Oceana International Airport and she'll be escorted to the Central Government Building. Be assured there won't be a repeat of the incident last time."

TRANSVAAL FOREIGN MINISTRY RESPONSE TO TAHOE:This schedule is most aggreable to Ms. van Matteus. She intends to make Tahoe her first stop as she regards the Tahoe Republic as Transvaal's first and foremost ally and feels that by placing Tahoe at the top of her overseas itinery it will symbolise that close relationship between our two nations and people. A tour of suitable schools would be most appreciated, preferably one located in Cruachan so that our embassy staff is close-by on hand should the need arise for Ms. van Matteus to get into contact on short notice with her daughter.

Prime Minister van Matteus' aircraft (an Afrikaanse Lugdiens Boeing-747) will depart in a few hours for Cruachan.

STATEMENT FROM HARUHIIST EMPIRE: Due to the collapse of the Hanseatic League Commonwealth, the Haruhiist Empire (Chimairan Republic) located in that realm's former Northern Territory, would like to extend an invitaiton to Matteus to visit our nation.

TRANSVAAL FOREIGN MINISTRY RESPONSE TO HARUHIIST EMPIRE: Our Government and Prime Minister van Matteus appreciate the invite however for the time being, due to constraints, she will have to decline. Her intention to visit Hansa was more out of the intention of meeting with Sarah - ranther than the actual territory in general.

SEPTEMBER 4, 2009

The orange and blue Boeing 747 lumbered off the runway at Windhoek’s small airport where the 250-man Transvaler Oorsese Korps were on hand to see their commanding officer off on her first overseas trip since being appointed Transvaal’s prime minister at the end of July.

It had been a whirlwind month for Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus. With her checkered legacy of misfortune and mishap inside the government, she had taken the bull by the horns and silenced her many opponents at home and aboard by doing what was least expected from her: carrying out much needed political and social reforms after the end of the Republican Military Government.

While some elements from the junta she quietly retained, such as Malan’s immigration policies and the unitary republic in lieu of the federalist policies of Jakob Hertzog, Transvaal was otherwise undergoing postwar reconstruction in an aura of stability and social peace.

Despite her frequent tagging as a neo-fascist by the foreign press, unlike many rightwing politicians in the Republic she genuinely promoted and supported African economic advancement as a concession. While like many Afrikaners, she quietly kept any real political power out of non-white hands – but she otherwise saw no reason why the black man could not have all the economic benefits and luxuries that the white man enjoyed in Transvaal. Even her own personal bodyguard, the semi-autonomous militia known as the Oorsese Korps, was almost entirely comprised of Namibian blacks.

Granted the economy was not performing as well as it could since the government had been unable to locate a replacement trade for coal and iron, but shortfalls aside in some heavy industry sectors she pressed on relentless to re-militarise Transvaal.

As the 747 reached its cruising altitude over the Namib Desert – the infamous Skeleton Coast of shipwreck fame – the 43-year-old prime minister peered out the window to look at the blue ocean. Next to her, already asleep, was her 6-year-old daughter Joanne de Ruijters. After hearing disturbing but unconfirmed rumours that her father Uys Rooyan de Ruijters was still alive, Annetjie felt it best to relocate Joanne somewhere safer. If Uys Rooyan was indeed and incredibly alive, she would need to ascertain his intentions and act fast against him if he decided to become a threat and exploit her position as leader of one of Africa’s oldest and powerful states for his own nefarious gains.

Annetjie van Matteus looked at Joanne. She loved her daughter but regretted ever getting mixed up with De Ruijters in the first place. She had first met him in the days before Transvaal’s independence – when she resided in Deutschland to work on her economic studies and political science degree. She had by chance met the tourist De Ruijters one day at a Berlin café. Knowing no other Afrikaners in Berlin, an on-and-off relationship developed between them. Joanne was the product of that ill-fated union. De Ruijters soon bailed on mom and daughter and returned to South Africa after Joanne’s birth – leaving the working mom struggling to bring up the child as best as possible.

Later their paths would cross again after Staatspresident Botha proclaimed Transvaal’s independence from ANC South Africa when both Annetjie and Uys Rooyan were appointed to government posts in the new Transvaal government. She became known as a heavy-handed Minister of Labour while he was Minister of Interior.

‘No…’ she thought to herself, ‘I refuse to allow that cancer Uys to ruin my daughter’s life like he almost did to me years ago. She will be safe in Tahoe.’

Annetjie pulled out a book on Gaelic to brush up on her functional albeit halting ability in that language before then laying back in the seat to get as much as asleep as she could before arrival in Cruachan. She looked forward to the dinner with their president and hoped to make a good impression with Transvaal's closest social and political allies.

The 747 cruised over the Atlantic northwards to North America.

Van Matteus' visit to Tahoe
SEPTEMBER 4, 2009

PRIME MINISTER VAN MATTEUS ARRIVES IN TAHOE

TRANSVALER DAAGLIKSE NUUS [CRUACHAN]: Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus made the first stop of her first overseas visit today when her Afrikaanse Lugdiens plane touched down just after 4:30pm local time in the capital city of Cruachan in the Tahoe Republic.

“I am looking forward to meeting with President O'Deaghaidh” she told Tahoe media in a brief statement after disembarking from the 747.

“Tahoe was one of the earliest supporters of our beloved Staatspresident Botha after our independence and that close relationship has continued through successive governments until this very day. May the social and political bonds that bring us together never weaken!”

After arrival in Cruachan, Prime Minister van Matteus made her way to the Transvaler embassy to change, refresh after the long flight, and then confer with Ambassador Andries Joubert before making her way to meeting with the Tahoe government officials.

At some point during the visit after official duties have been dealt with, Ms. van Matteus and her daughter will also make a visit the Cruachan Ladies School.

SEPTEMBER 6-10, 2009

At 6 PM sharp (Tahoe Standard Time), a small motorcade of two limousines and security SUV pulled up in front of the Transvaler Embassy. As the drivers and footmen hopped out to open doors for the Prime Minister and her staff, a few blocks away the staff at Roinn an Taoiseach were scrambling with last minute preparations for the meal. Unlike state dinners, which were held in the Great Hall, this was to be a private affair for the Prime Minister, Transvaler ambassador and the President and his wife.

Minutes later, the motorcade pulled up in front of the President's official residence. A few media personnel stood about twenty feet away taking pictures as Prime Minister van Matteus and Ambassador Joubert walked up the stairs to meet the President and his wife.

"Welcome to the Tahoe Republic, Madam Prime Minister" said the President. "It is good to see you again Ambassador." The President's wife and Transvalers made their introductions before being ushered in the house by the President who commented on the heat for at least the second time in their brief conversation on the steps of the Manor House.

Walking inside, a butler appeared to take coats and led the group into a small sitting room with dark panelled wood walls and an outdoor theme.

Annetjie van Matteus waved briefly to the Tahoan cameras flashing away before making the climb up the steps into the presidential residence.

The Transvaler prime minister walked up to President O’Deaghaidh and the First Lady of Tahoe. “I am so very pleased to be here.” She smiled, shook their hands, and then looked at the cameras as the last press photographs were taken before the rest of the evening became a more private affair.

Ambassador Joubert sense that the prime minister was both nervous and excited to meet O’Deaghaidh; therefore he kept to himself in the background so that Van Matteus could have her day. He was used to keeping a low profile. While he always received the greatest of respect and courtesy from his visits to O’Deaghaidh, he did occasionally catch wind of snickers of derision behind his back from some Tahoe officials due to his mixed Griqua background.

Annetjie van Matteus quickly tried to recall the president’s title in Gaelic – but could not remember the difference between uachtarán and taoiseach, so she used both words: “You know, An tUasal Uachtarán Taoiseach, this is not my first visit here – however this visit means the most to me as I now come here to Cruachan as Staatspresident Botha’s governmental representative. It is a great honour for me as the Staatspresident regards Tahoe in the upmost regards - more than any other nation we have relations with. He told me to tell you he will always be deeply thankful for all the assistance Tahoe has given our nation and people since our days of independence over two and a half years ago.”

Annetjie van Matteus had met the Tahoe leader a few times previous, during her capacity as commander of the Krygsmagte detachment that airlifted and assisted the Tahoe government during its socialist rebellion in December 2007 and then later, when she was briefly Transvaler Ambassador to Tahoe.

But this time around, despite now being the second-most powerful person in Transvaal, it was pretty obvious that she was in awe of – and intimidated by – the Tahoe leader.

"When you return to Pretoria at the end of your visit here please give the Staatspresident my regards, won't you? He is held in the most high regard in our nation, as are you, I might add. Now please, call me Seán." said the President with a grin as they stepped inside the house.

After enjoying a few glasses of the alcohol of choice (provided of course it is a Tahoan wine, whiskey or beer) in the Lodge Sitting Room, a young man in a black coat, pants and black leather boots knocked on the door and immediately walked in the room. To Prime Minister Van Matteus he looked like an Armtha SS trooper, although she didn't see any insigna except a pin on the high collar of his coat which she couldn't make out, but her confusion was only increased when he said, "Phardún, An Taoiseach?" to which President O'Deaghaidh replied, "Ar aghaidh leat, Tomas." The young man continued on in Gaeilge too rapidly for the Prime Minister to follow, but when he was done and excused by O'Deagaidh, he turned and explained that the Soldier (So he was a soldier then...) had come with an update from Governor Schwarzenegger of California who wished to inform the President that the horrendous wild fires in Southern California had been half way contained.

Almost immediately after that, a butler appeared to announce dinner was ready. Standing, the President offered his arm to his wife and lead the four into the hallway, where they walked a few steps before entering the dinning room. It was medium sized room, and clearly not designed for only four people, but the alternative was either the Great Hall, which could house hundreds or the President's private dining room which was not suitable for foreign dignataries.

Immediately after seating, waiters appeared to ask the leaders their choice of drink and a menu featuring Dayboat Scallops, Smoked River Trout and Northwest Crab or Beef Roast with Potato and Clams.

While the Taoiseach was conversing with his visitor, Van Matteus requested from the butler “Ba mhaith liom beoir, go raibh maith agat.” The butler returned with a generous and heavy pint glass of lager. “Thank you, go raibh maith agat”.

By now the dark uniformed visitor had left and the Taoiseach could now overhear Van Matteus conversing in her basic Irish. It was obvious from her unnatural speech patterns that she wasn’t too fluent it the language, she probably learnt what she knew from some audio course one could find in airport bookshops.

“Forest fires, you say? That is something we don’t face too much back home, generally seasonal floods and droughts – as strange as it may sound – are the usual natural disasters that strike Transvaal.”

“That man, was he Armtha SS? I recall a very brave and dashing Armtha officer that was stationed in Pretoria last summer… well, our summer, which would make it January… that gained a lot of notice and respect from those of us in the government who dealt with him during the Tahoe intervention against our native rebellion. I think his name was, von Halston, Haston, Haiston, err… something like that. Anyways I recall even the Staatspresident himself spoke highly of him a couple of times. Even hinted once that when Ambassador Séamus Ó Grianna reached retirement, he would like to see this Colonel Van Haesten, ah yes that’s the name – Peter van Haesten – possibly become your new ambassador to us. He said the colonel was an excellent representative of the prowess of Tahoe military might and organisation”

“Ah, speaking of which, I have a gift for you from Staatspresident Botha…” Van Matteus leaned for her handbag and pulled out a small black leather case.

She then moved closer towards the Taoiseach. “Meneer Taoiseach… this is one of the old Transvaal Defense Shield awards that the Staatspresident used to hand out to foreign leaders who assisted Transvaal back in the days when we were part of Nordreich and Norden Verein. It has since been retired, the last one handed out over two years ago. However the Staatspresident felt it was most appropriate to present you with this one since Tahoe was the only non-Norden nation back in those dangerous days for us to constantly come to our assistance. He feels it signifies the long friendly relationship that has existed unbroken between our peoples.”

As the dinner was finishing up, Annetjie van Matteus complimented the chef personally on the rainbow trout. "I so love rainbow trout but whenver we chance on it in Transvaal, it is rather costly from importation and never tastes as exquisite as this was tonight."

She then took a sip from her glass of lager as the table was cleared - waiting for an opportune moment to strike up conversation with the Taoiseach.

Meanwhile Ambassador Joubert was making small talk with the First Lady, alternating between English and heavily accented but still function Gaelic on something trivial about gardening. The ambassador was an avid gardener and farmer back home in Griqualand - and had acquired a small private cottage in the hills north of Cuachan near Healdsburg where he retired to relax when diplomatic duties were not pressing. When he was originally posted to Tahoe, Joubert held some reservations due to how his mixed coloured heritage would be perceived. However whatever obstacles he may have had to endure was rewarded with the gratification of knowing he held the most prestigious posting for any Transvaler ambassador. Plus he enjoyed the blessed weather where he could grow his grapes - an occupation he once had back in the Cape Province in pre-independence days when he was a university student.

Annetjie van Matteus then spoke up: "So Meneer O’Deaghaidh, while we have the time on our hands, are there any issues or concerns which the Tahoe government wishes to address?"

"Yes, forest fires are our most dangerous natural disaster. Practically our entire nation is forested, well, at least the parts that aren't bloody mountains, and small towns and farms are scattered throughout and so whenever it gets hot and dry, which is all summer in California at least, we get fires. Often we can let them burn out, which prevents new fires in that area for decades, but this particular fire has burned its way across Southern California just north of Los Angeles which is the largest single urban city - although San Francisco has a much larger metropolitan population- and so there is a lot of worry that the fire could get into the city itself."

"Yes, he was SS. Colonel Van Haesten, you say! Ah, I remember him, debriefed me on the...incident...in Pretoria he did. I seem to recall his being promoted, but I do believe he still is teaching at the Havana Military Academy. Afrikaans and Urban Warfare Leadership are his classes." Pulling out a small black notebook, O'Deagaidh made a small note to himself to inquire about reassigning the Colonel (The President remembered Van Haesten had been promoted to full colonel and told van Matteus so) to Pretoria as Ambassador O'Grianna's assistant, and commander of the SS detachment there.

The President's jovial mood quickly grew serious as Van Matteus pulled out and presented him with the Transvaal Defense Shield. Recognizing the severe gravity and honor of this award, he gave his thanks to Van Matteus and instructed her to give his thanks to the Staatspresident before saluting the Prime Minister.

As they finished their dinner, President O'Deagaidh had dungeness crab with clams, Prime Minister Van Matteus said, "So Meneer O’Deaghaidh, while we have the time on our hands, are there any issues or concerns which the Tahoe government wishes to address?"

Thinking for a moment, the President replied, "I am actually quite concerned with the stability of the Transvaler Government. It seems that with recent transitions in your government, going from civilian government to military dictatorship and back that the precedent has been established for instability. My government is willing to assist you in maintaining its power, in a democratic manner, of course, to ensure Transvaal's continued stablity.

“I can understand your concerns Taoiseach, however you must understand that the Karma War was forced upon Transvaal. The conflict was not of our doing. It was an unpopular war which we did not agree with but were however obliged to participate – and unfortunately for us resulted in massive political and economic disruption as our military command broke down. The RMG junta period which followed was simply the product of desperate times finding the means to cope, times which have since passed.”

“Granted while our economy still has some difficulties securing all the necessary resources which our industry requires – namely coal and iron – in areas of technology and state infrastructure, we have since rebuilt to around 95% our pre-war levels. Our re-militarisation continues at a steady pace, albeit slowed down somewhat again due to shortages in heavy industry resources.”

“On a political front, I have tried to combine the best aspects of the old federal republic with those of the junta to govern Transvaal as best as I can. The old federal system was stale and broken, a new republican system was needed in its place. I think it is safe to say that many of our foreign critics predicted that the Republic would falter under my government, however domestically we have seen more peace and prosperity than any time since the war.”

While Van Matteus was speaking, O’Deagaidh snuck a quick glance at Ambassador Joubert to see what his reaction was to Van Matteus' monologue; Joubert seemed to be nodding in agreement to most of the points.

Van Matteus then concluded: “Of course we do have national elections coming up in November, and that will be the true test whether Transvaal has indeed healed domestically from the grief of war.”

Annetjie van Matteus then asked the Taoiseach, "Is there anything else you wish to discuss? Otherwise I should probably return to my embassy with Ambassador Joubert and make my preparations to head to Italy."

Van Matteus' visit to Repubblica Italiana
SEPTEMBER 13, 2009

The Afrikaanse Lugdiens Boeing 747 lifted off gracefully from Cruachan Airport. “Well that was a nice, relaxed visit” said Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus to her secretary. However inside, she was actually thinking about her daughter now remaining behind in Tahoe.

The plane began to head eastwards as it started on its route which would take it to Republican Italy. The last time Van Matteus had met the Italian fascist leader Junio Borghese, she had been the Transvaler ambassador to Italy and Petrus Malan was dictator in Pretoria. Now ironically, the tables were turned as she was running the country while Malan was lingering away in comforbale exile in Rome as Transvaal’s ambassador.

The preparations of the visit to Italy by the Prime Minister of Transvaal were discussed last week in Rome by General Junio Borghese and Minister of Foreign Affair Roberto Ciano. At the end of the audience, Minister Ciano did not give details of the visit agenda of the Transvaaler Prime Minister, but informed that it is a state visit in which she shall be accompanied by General Boghese and several government officials.

General Borghese declared that the objective of the visit is to lay the basis for a straighter economic cooperation between the two countries, with highlight to sectors such as technology. It is the first official visit by a Prime Minister of Transvaal.

Foreign Minister Roberto Ciano also reminded about the time when Italy and Transvaal signed a trade agreement, almost 3 months ago. He said that it is a very important visit. According to Borghese, who considered Malan's regime a role model for his Government, strengthening cooperation relations between the two countries is uniting two people who never had any kind of diplomatic relation in the last years.

Roma, Leonardo da Vinci Airport... A huge crowd of supporters, put on display in Rome, is patiently waiting behind the fences for the arrival of Prime Minister Annetje Van Matteus. The airport is one of the safest places in Italy, being the only connection between Southern Italy and the rest of the world, it is heavily guarded by the Italian Army itself and a plethora of Camicie Nere, blackshirts. A huge banner says "Welcome!"

General Junio Borghese is looking at the sky, hoping for a clear weather during the whole visit. His forehead is sweating because of the heat, and the General whipes it with a towel from time to time "I heard she is good looking" he whispers to Foreign Minister Roberto Ciano, the General's best friend and closest supporter "Yeah well.. i heard somewhere she executed a dissident during a live broadcast, or something like that". The look on Borghese's face: priceless...

As the Afrikaanse Ludgiens Boeing 747 made its approach towards Rome, Annetjie van Matteus made her way up to the cockpit and requested that the plane be given permission to circle around over Rome before landing.

“The city is quite beautiful from the ground, but I would really like to view it from the air while I can.”

Her previous flights to and from Rome during he days as ambassador had been made on domestic flights - and seeing that the flight was a charter with the prime minister and her entourage the only passengers, the captain saw no reason not to ask. He contacted the control tower at Rome’s international airport:

''“Greetings Rome! Springbok One here on our approach to Rome, our ETA is approximently 25 minutes. Our passenger onboard has requested permission to circle the perimeter of the city limits before making final approach. Over.”''

"This is FCO Roma to Springbok One, permission granted. Welcome in Italy, enjoy your stay"

“Ahh, very beautiful indeed” exclaimed the Transvaler prime minister. “Unlike most modern cities, Rome hasn’t been cluttered by modern skyscrapers and highrises” she said out-loud to whoever was in earshot of her. Peering out the aircraft’s cockpit, she could even pick out some buildings, museums, churches, and other places of interest which she had visited during her spare time.

“Excuse me, madam prime minister” said the captain politiely but firmly, “We need to begin our descent into Leonardo da Vinci Airport so I will need you to take your seat now, if you please”.

Annetjie van Matteus walked back to her seat, sat down, and did up the seatbelt even though the captain had yet to turn on the ‘seatbelt’ light overhead. She briefly thought about the visit ahead.

Italian leader Junio Borghese had slowly but steadlily become one of Transvaal’s closer allies even though there had been amazingly enough little direct political contact between the two governments despite mutual respect and admiration for authoritarian regimes. Borghese had even moved his people in a direction imitating the old military junta in Pretoria – even though Transvaal has begun the first tentative steps towards civilian democracy.

No, much of Transvaler-Italian relations focused rather around economic trading, as Transvaal was a major market for Italian wheat and marble. Maintenance of those imports was vital to Transvaal’s economy, probably more so than any other trading partner. While Tahoe held considerable political and socio-ideological influence and weight in Pretoria, the Italian Republic held quite a bit of economic and financial influence even though the Italians were probably obvlious to the extent.

The plane was now making its landing approach, and Van Matteus could feel her ears pop from the cabin pressurisation. This was always the part she hated about flying.

She looked out the window near her and could see the tops of buildings and trees now speeding by down below as the 747 was lining up for its final few hundred metres. The plane sunk gently and then the familiar thud from the wheels shook the plane. The engines whined as the reverse thrusters kicked in... the plane slowing itself to taxiing speed.

After around ten minutes, the 747 had stopped in front of the main terminal. Annetjie van Matteus stood up and made her way to the front exit on to the tarmac. The door was unlocked by the crew, and she stepped outside on to the stairs leading down. The bright Italian sun shone down and Van Matteus could feel the heat and infamous Roman humidity.

Wiping her brow, she made her way down to the welcoming party at the foot of the stairs, occasionally glancing at the various signs saying “Welcome to Italy!” and “Welkom in Italië!” She could her the opening strains of Die Stem van Suid-Afrika – the Transvaler anthem – coming from the military band off to the side.

And there she was. Blonde white skin. Everyone else in the airport was suntanned with black or brown hairs and eyes. Extended right arms are also everywhere, the whole crowd, including Borghese, Minister Ciano and security forces, are welcoming Van Matteus with the two thousands years old Roman Salute. General Borghese, followed by Minister Ciano and a translator, makes some steps forward until he reached the stairs. There is a high number of women wearing uniforms, showing that despite being a country where civil rights became a taboo, the segregation of the woman is not tolerated. Many changes to the doctrine of fascism were planned and approved by General Borghese, in order to give his people an idea (or a perception) of justice and equality. "Prime Minister van Matteus, it's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome in Republican Italy, a world of its own.." the voice of General Borghese is clear and loud, He is used to yell at his generals and even at Romans from the balcony on Piazza Venezia when he addresses the nation with one of his nationalist, populist speeches. But the translator will eventually move the attention on himself.

Only a few people are wearing civilian clothes, and most of them are journalists of the national and international press, a sign that Italian society has been radically militarized in the last month, since the creation of the first italian fascist youth program Opera Nazionale Balilla. TV crews and photographers are costantly trying to get closer but they are blocked by security forces deployed all around the perimeter. Flashes and overjoyed cheers cover the music played by the Military Band from time to time. Meanwhile, a squad of Fascisti is trying to catch the attention of the Transvaaler press. Borghese is not bothered by them showing off uniforms and batons, he is aware of the fanatism of his supporters.

In post-Kaiser Martens europe, Italy successfully settled its government and territorial claims. Facing more than a challenge, both on national and international stages, General Junio Borghese reunificated the peninsula in less than 2 months, amid critics, threats and controversial decisions.

On hearing these words, Annetjie van Matteus smiled and responded by returning the roman salute as she approached General Junio Borghese and his welcoming party.

She went up to the Italian leader and shook his hand firmly. “It is a pleasure to return to Italy” she said in English, Borghese noticing that her accent was not typically South African. “Thank you for permitting me to visit you on behalf of the government of the Republic of Transvaal”.

Unlike President O’Deagaidh of Tahoe, of whom she was both in complete awe yet also had some previous familiarity over the years, she had only briefly met the Italian leader before and then only in passing during formal diplomatic engagements in Rome. She knew next to nothing about him and thus felt a little uneasy in trying to make small talk as she was ushered with Borghese towards a waiting limousine which would take them into the heart of Rome.

While the automobile sped along, she decided to break the ice by asking “So what is this news of a new pope here in Rome?” Herself a Catholic - a rarity in Transvaal - Annetjie van Matteus had more than a passing curiosity about the various popes claiming legitimacy.

Rome will be an off-limits area for vehicles and aircrafts during the whole visit, and the motorcade proceeds in the heart of the Italian capital without queues and traffic jams. The streets are empty, only a few people are walking on the sidewalks. Someone is reading a newspaper, someone is smoking a cigarette.. probably agents of the OVRA (Organization for Vigilance and Repression of Anti-Fascism) making sure everyone is gathered in Empire Avenue to cheer General Borghese and Prime Minister van Matteus.

"It is a very old tradition. The bishop of Rome seized control of the Urbe after the fall of the Western Roman and somehow continued the legacy trought the centuries, one can be religious or not but the role of the Bishop of Rome has changed this city, and probably saved this city after the fall of the Roman Empire. The pope and the council of cardinals are commonly recognized as the last signs of the imperial authority over Rome, and we Italians respect this city and its traditions. Paul VII Borghese is recognized by the Italians as the legal successor to the throne of Peter because he was elected in Rome, because he is the Bishop of Rome, henceforth he is the Pope."

As General Borghese speaks, the motorcade passes the Altar of the Fatherland, proceeding towards the Colosseum. Behind the Anfiteatro Flavio, many divisions of the Italian army are ready to march in Via dell'Impero the route used by Roman Legions and Emperors who returned from military campaigns with another astonishing victory. Thousands of people are waving flags and showing banners on both sides of the street. The acient imperial forums, restored by the Republican Military Government, are once again shining in memory of acient glories and heroes, heroes such Ceasar Augusto and Costantine.

Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus waved occasionally as she looked out of the limousine at the crowds.

“These crowds, this is so unlike at home. When we have foreign heads-of-state visiting Pretoria – which isn’t too often, mind you – they are almost always very discrete occurrences. We fly them in through Johannesburg, drive them north to Pretoria, and then whisk them into Government House for meetings. Our government generally tries to avoid large public crowds of any sort because we never just know if it will explode and get ugly. Tempers flare and racial problems re-ignite. We don’t need to provoke that.”

As the limousine made another turn and drove past yet more throngs of spectators with Italian and Transvaler flags, Van Matteus wondered if her old favourite haunt was still open and operating. At some point, when all this official business had been dealt with, perhaps the night before she left for Africa, she would sneak out of the embassy alone and bolt off down to the Lungotevere Tor Di Nona where Giacomo’s was located so she could relish herself with her favourite pesto tortellini.

She then pushed her daydreaming aside… ‘I have business to attend to’, she thought.

“Signore Borghese, I trust you are satisfied with Italy’s relations with Transvaal? Our two states have not had much direct government-to-government contact since diplomatic relations were established many months ago. It seems that almost all contact has been handled through our respective finance and trade ministries. In that regards, Staatspresident Botha asked me to pass on his thanks for your nation’s economic and moral support during our difficult period after the war.”

"I am very satisfied by the trade partnership between Repubblica Italiana and Transvaal, and i appreciate the words of Staatspresident Botha. The Minister of Corporate Economy and Trade proposed to strenghten this cooperation. Recently we are experiencing an economic boom with a consideable increase of the national industrial production, there are technologic hardwares we are willing to export. At present, Italy is not yet ready to modernize all of its civilian and military technological equipments, and we will export our technology until the end of October. We have many buyers who have invested millions and millions of dollars, buying high tech equipments for low prices if compared to their national standars. One of these parterns, is the Tahoe Republic, they are just like Transvaal, one of our closest economical partners."

After the parade and the glorious celebration in Via dell'Impero, the motorcade reaches Palazzo del Quirinale on the Quirinal Hill, the Roman residence of General Borghese and historically the home of the Italian Head of State. Corridors and rooms are rich of valuable pictures and sculptures from many eras, from Acient Rome to the Risorgimento, from the times when Gebiv ruled on Italy to the most recent Reunification of the peninsula. It looks like a private museum, and Borghese is very proud of it

"We prepared a surprise" Borghese smiles, Foreign Minister Roberto Ciano takes the lead and opens the door to a big empty room.. with something similar to a sculpture, a statue, a monument, at least 3 meters tall but covered with a huge blanket "Ready?" Minister Ciano removes the blanket, unvealing the magnificent statue of Imperator Ceasar Augustus "This is an original statue of Emperor Ceasar Augustus, devoted to Augustus in 20BC. This is a gift from the Republican Military Government and the People of Rome, to the museums of Transvaal, a proven civilized nation. This statue shall represent a warning to anyone who poses a threat to civilization and prosperity" on the base of the statue there is an inscription saying S.P.Q.R. Senatus Populus Que Romanus: the Senate and the People of Rome.

On hearing about the export of Italian technology, Annetjie van Matteus interjected rather surprised “Excuse me Signore Borghese? Are you telling me that Italy is actually in the market for selling off technology production? Transvaal has been looking for a reliable, on-going dealer since the start of the year when the Franzharian markets dried up on us. I can guarantee that my government is very interested even for short term deals. You will have to get your minister of trade to contact our Minister Hofmeyr if there is an opportunity to set something up.”

"We were informed by your Embassy that Transvaal's technology market was sealed off for a while, forced by the tremendous surrender terms after the Karma War, and we have been busy for a while trying to keep track of all our deals and invest the right ammount of money without falling into a public debt. We have successfully invested this money and in 10 days we will have 3 or 4 open technology trade routes. We will contact Minister Hofmeyr as soon as possible to further develope this plan"

- - -

Later while at the Quirnale, Van Matteus examines the artwork with a keen eye. “I read somewhere that the popes used to reside here until they were given the boot after the Risorgimento. The palace is magnificent; I can see why the Italian monarchy wanted it for their own use.”

When the statue of Augustus Caesar is revealed, she is awestruck. “This is a most beautiful, priceless gift! However is it right to remove this from its Italian homeland? I am tempted to have it relocated instead to our embassy here so the Italian people can still view it. If not, then Government House has a small museum where it would be perfect. Signore, you are much too kind to bestow our people such gifts.”

Although she didn’t show it, Van Matteus felt a little embarrassed as the Transvaler Boers weren’t known for their presentation of gift giving. Decades of hardship on the veldt had made the Transvaler people value hospitality (and a man's word) rather than material goods as their sign of friendship and bonding. Also their culture was more rustic and rural. Presenting livestock to foreign dignitaries didn’t quite send the desired message.

General Borghese is proudly looking at the statue, firmly in the eyes. He doesen't want to look like a megalomaniac wanna-be roman emperor, but being the rule of Rome and living sorrounded by acient ruins and statues like this, is almost driving him crazy.

"Indeed this statue belongs to the people of Rome, it belongs to our past, it belongs to this City, it's witness of an acient civilization whose traditions are still here. The legacy survives in our language, in our laws, in our Republic, in our military. Wherever this statue is located, it will represent our people and our culture. You can take this statue to Pretoria."

- - -

Later, during a more relaxed moment as the two leaders took a private break outside the scrutiny of the media to have a small meal together, Van Matteus brought up the issue of the Transvaler ambassador.

“Signore, as you know, our ambassador to Rome is the former marshal, Petrus Malan. Considering his less than positive reputation with the international community during the junta, has your government taken any diplomatic flack with him now being posted here? And what are your own impressions and opinions of Malan? I understand that your government was very partial towards him – does it trouble you now that Transvaal has returned to civilian rule?”

And there the tricky question comes. General Borghese is always embarassed to talk about dictators and dictatorships, ironically, because he fears the guests might think he dislikes democracy or doesen't respect democracy as a valid form of Government. He doesen't really know what her opinion on Petrus Malan is, and he needs a few seconds to formulate an intelligent answer, trying to not make any gaffes.

"If i'm not wrong he was already in power when i issued a statement regarding the sovereignty of Republican Italy. Looking at his results and his charisma i tried to form the Italian Republican Military Government on the model of the Junta of Transvaal. The news of the coup in Pretoria sparked fear of a possible cessation of the friendly diplomatic relations we had with his Government. But when we heard you were the designated Prime Minister we resumed our daily routine without such fears.. We are not that kind of people who judge oversea or overalps countries so we tend to not stick our nose into another country's internal affairs. Transvaal is a country with a history rich of determination and changes and we beleive General Petrus Malan has brought some positive changes to the society of Transvaal.. this is, obviously, a personal opinion.

''I have nothing against civilian rule itself, my decision to create a new Military Government in Italy was actually forced by the condition of Italy at the time. Italy is geographically united but its people must learn to cooperate and ignore cultural or political differences. United means stronger, as i'm used to say. After his arrival here in Italy we had little or no contact with him.. he took part to the monthly celebrations of the Republic Day and the Reunification Day a few days ago as Ambassador of Transvaal, but nothing more."''

Annetjie van Matteus could sense her questioning about Malan was causing Junio Borghese some unnecessary discomfort. She decided to allay his worries.

“Well my intuition tells me that we both share similar viewpoints. Our nations have both undergone difficult periods of time during our existence and under the circumstances the government decisions which were made have by and large turned out positive in the long-term even though they were tough and trying decisions at the time.”

“Many back home regard Malan as a necessary Judas figure – he made and carried out delicate… umm, decisions… which needed to be made but no one else was willing to put themselves on the line. Without him, reconstruction and more critically, his… err, social engineering… policies in regards to immigration implemented after the devastation of the Karma invasion would have never taken place.”

“For that, while his reputation may have been tarnished overseas, most whites in Transvaal quietly regard him as a national savior for finally dealing with the so-called ‘native question’ and in turn making the governing minority now a majority.”

“However the military junta had run its course and if the civilian authorities within his government had allowed his rule to continue past its ‘best-before’ date, we realized we ran the risk of creating a situation where his policies would start to backfire on us. That is why myself and Hendrik Strijdom decided to push him out the door. We knew that Malan regarded us as his closest ideological supporters, so he could resign knowing that his legacy would be carried on… in a reformed manner made palpable to the outside world.”

“At some point, probably in the new year, Malan will be recalled home and given back command of his beloved missile corps. Our only roadblock really is figuring out how we are going to have two field marshals in our military, as it is somewhat absurd and comical to have one field marshal subordinate to another. There is also the delicate issue of convincing Malan to serve under Cruywagen – who was a vocal critic of him during the junta.”

Van Matteus then ate more from her meal, so that Junio Borghese could take all this in. She felt that by opening up to Borghese with some of Transvaal’s more touchy social issues, it hopefully showed that she trusted and respected the Italian Leader. The more she spoke with Borghese, aside from his quaint Italian bravado pompousness, she found him to be a charming and amicable man. When she returned home to Pretoria, she would advise the Staatspresident to regard Italian relations in a more serious light and work towards bringing them to a higher level – of, say, that of Tahoe and Arctica. Ideologically Transvaal could benefit from a close Tahoe-Repubblica Italiana-Transvaal axis as all three nations had much in common. However due to geography, Arctican and to a lesser extent Serca relations were important to maintain as well.

She then asked Signore Borghese, “Is there anything else you wish to discuss? If not, I have some private business here in Rome I would like to attend to. Nothing important, but just some loose ends I need to deal with from my days here as ambassador.”

"I see the 'native question' is not considered a secondary issue, but is something i can hardly understand due to the homogeneity of ethnic Italians.. i can only wish you good work and much government stabiliy in the years to come, this is what both our countries need. I have no other subjects to discuss with you, i think we have both reached important agreements and cleared our views on important national and international issues. Enjoy your stay here in Rome, contact me at any time if you and your staff need anything."

As the official visit comes to an end. Foreign Minister Roberto Ciano, who is also responsible for the safety of guests and 'very important people' like Head of Governments, Head of States or political leaders of any sort, had dispatched two OVRA (Organization for Vigilance and Repression of Antifascism) officers with the task of following Prime Minister Annetje van Matteus and make sure she was not harmed by the wild "urban jungle", even tought the crime rates had dramatically decreased in recent weeks, pick pocketing is still a major issue in the streets of Rome.

That evening, after dark…

The two OVRA agents perked up when they saw the figure of a woman emerge from the Transvaler embassy. From their Fiat, the one in the driver’s seat grabbed his binoculars and peered through them looking at the woman as she came into view from the streetlights above. It has been a dull and quiet night despite being instructed that at some point Van Matteus would be stepping out to run some errands and personal business.

The excitement was short-lived. “No, it’s not her…” said the driver, “looks like one of Ambassador Malan’s callgirls – the old dog must be calling it an early night tonight” he said as the woman crossed the street and made her way towards the Tiber. The woman was dressed in a black skirt with a black three-quarter length leather coat. Instead of the golden Aryan locks which they had been keeping an eye out for, this woman had a short black bob for hair.

The binoculars were put back on the dashboard. “Have you got any more coffee?” asked the driver’s partner.

Once she made it to the end of the street, the woman looked back quickly before rounding the bend and out of site of the two OVRA men. She had around three hours before Malan’s mistress du jour left and the OVRA realized they had been duped. One woman with short black hair walked into the embassy that evening but two would leave.

Annetjie van Matteus walked down the quiet deserted street, staying as close to the shadows as possible. Her heels clicked on the cobblestones as she crossed and turned right. The day had been humid and she found the leather coat and wig becoming overbearingly warm. ‘Not to worry, only a half dozen more streets’ she though to herself – occasionally checking to make sure that OVRA agents weren’t following.

She then reached the Tiber River and turned on to the Via di Sant’ Alessioza. ‘Not far now’ van Matteus mumbled to herself. She had taken this route many times before so she was able to avoid the regular local beat patrols. One last look around as she reached the apartment block. She buzzed on the door to the third building on her left and waited. “Buona sera?” said a voice hesitantly on the intercom. “Monica, it’s me - Annetjie.” There was a click on the intercom and then a feebled buzz. Van Matteus pulled at the door and walked in.

Stepping out of the elevator on the second floor, she walked to apartment 27 and knocked three times. The door was unlatched and an attractive Italian woman looked through the door ajar. “Annetjie, it’s you!”. The woman opened the door wide. Annetjie van Matteus walked in. As the door closed and was locked again, Van Matteus removed the black wig and the two women kissed…

- - -

Outside, across from the apartment which Van Matteus had entered, there was movement in the shadows. A large, hulking figure emerged. A massive African, dark as ebony, stepped out and grinned his perfectly white teeth. In his pocket he fumbled around with a pistol.

- - -

Around two hours later, Annetjie van Matteus emerged from the apartment. Discretion was now not so important, so she left the black wig behind and just put her hair up in braids. She looked outside to make sure no one was watching, before making her way back towards the Tiber. She snickered to herself ‘I wonder if those two OVRA dolts are still waiting for me back at the embassy… I’ll have to pick something up for them on my way back’.

She then continued along the Lungotevere Aventino. ‘It is strangely quiet tonight, must be from the heavy security points on the city outskirts keeping everyone away. Odd.’

Just then the hulking black man stepped out in front of Van Matteus, who stopped dead in her tracks.

He growled in deep, heavily accented English: “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Doctor François Kananga.”

Van Matteus took a step backwards. She had heard of this crazed Kananga fellow, as a mercenary he had been in league with Riaan van der Byl stirring up trouble and violence in the Congo before Van der Byl’s untimely and mysterious assassination in Madrid in May 2007.

“What do you want from me?” she asked – now second-guessing the wisdom of sneaking out alone at night to visit her old girlfriend in Rome.

“You Afrikaners set me up and sold me out! I have been waiting and planning, planning and waiting… for the day… to now get my revenge on the whole lot of you! It was I who killed Riaan van der Byl, now it is your turn to die…” he rambled on like an incoherent madman about killing the Transvaler government one by one. He was either drunk or high – or both.

Van Matteus tried to recall what she was doing at the time of Van der Byl’s assassination, in the hopes that she could talk her way out.

“I don’t know why you want to kill me… I was no friend of Riaan’s… I wasn’t involved in his Katanga Free State scheme… I had nothing to… – ”

Kananga pulled out his pistol and took aim at Van Matteus’ face. She stepped back and caught her heel on a cobblestone, stumbling back just as the he pulled the trigger. The bullet sailed wide over her. Van Matteus was now on the ground, staring up at the massive black man who moved forward to tower above over her. He lowered the gun and took aim.

< BANG >

Van Matteus froze. ‘Oh god, I have been shot!’ She frantically looked at her chest for the entrance wound. She was obviously still alive, but felt no pain.

The black man began to teeter and then fall towards her. She rolled out of his way just as he impacted face down on to the road.

< Thud >

Annetjie van Matteus looked around. She was now pretty sure she was not hurt – not seriously at least. She slowly climbed back to her feet as another dark figure made its way from the shadow of the building behind where Kananga had originally been standing.

“Who on god’s earth are you?” she asked.

A female voice replied. “My name is Sarah Tintagyl…” Smoke drifted gently from the barrel of her gun.

- - - The echoes of the shot have brought the attention of the neighborhood, it is uncommon to hear a gunshot in this area, and from some windows, shadows are looking over the street, someone turn on the lights, dogs begin to bark from behind their fences "What's going on??" shouts someone "Someone got shot, call the police!", voices in the night, coming from the nearby buildings. - - -

Annetjie van Matteus said to Sarah, “I don’t know you but I thank you for saving my life. Quick, follow me. We need to get out of here before the police show up.”

They left the huge corpse of the dead Kananga bleeding slowly on the ground. “Our friend here will help delay the police’s attention…” quipped Van Matteus with morbid humour.

By now, the Transvaler woman had taken off her heels and began to run in her stocking feet. Sarah Tintagyl followed close behind as the two women made their way back towards the apartment of Van Matteus’ girlfriend.

“I know someone who lives nearby, we will be safe there until everything passes over.”

- - -

Earlier That Morning...

Sarah stood in the line in the International Airport in Rome and wiped her eyes, she had flown directly from Austria after the end of the Nordic rebellion in an effort to take a few days to relax before having to head back down to Buenos Aires so that she could report to High Command. Unfortunately she had decided to come to Rome the same day that the Transvaaler Prime Minister had decided to visit and therefore security was heightened to an almost revolting degree, while she stood with two small bags of luggage in a line that would move a few steps every five minutes or so. At this rate, she might be able to get to her hotel by nightfall and that would be if luck was on her side. Time passed and the girl slowly inched closer to the gates, finally getting to the checkpoint that would allow her to pass into the city of Rome itself. The Borghese government was very effective in this manner, of keeping dissent and problems out of Italy, one of the few benefits to fascism. Truth be told as she though a bit about the Italian State, it put her a bit at odds. Italy had not taken kindly to the Mariehamm War and the former Lady Protector knew all too well that she was not appreciated to move about the country. But at the same time, the Italians weren't Nords, they were an overall friendly people, and she had changed physically a great deal since the war. Her tan arms, slightly toned hung down from her sun dress while Sarah's trademark blonde hair and ponytail swung from side to side as she walked up to the metal detector and two black shirted guards working for airport security.

"Signora. Your papers and your bags please." Sarah handed them away silently. The first guard scanning through her luggage, while the other continuously looked up and down at the passport. Still working for the Imperial Union, Sarah had been given an alias for travel, especially considering her name's background and for that she was thankful. "Signora Katherine St. Clair?"

"Yes, that's it."

"You're an Imperial, you're coming a long way? Here to see the Prime Minister's parade?"

"No, just for vacation, a bit of time off before going back home."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

The guard chuckled. "Forgive me, you remind me of a face that appears or appeared quite often on the television. Sarah Tintagyl, the former Lady Protector. The traitor."

Sarah chuckled. "Yes, I get that a lot. Sometimes it makes it a bit hard to travel in Europe, or at least in Europe which have large Nordic communities. Though I find the resemblance much more forgiving in Austria as I hope to find in Rome."

"You need not worry about Rome, people will treat a pretty thing like you with the utmost respect. Giocomo?" He turned to the other guard. "Is Signora St. Clair's bag checked." Giocomo nodded and handed Sarah her luggage. "Enjoy yourself." Sarah thanked the guards as she walked towards the main terminal of the airport as the first guard picked up his radio and held it to his mouth. "We have a foreigner from South America...no you won't miss her...why?...she looks just like Sarah Tintagyl."

- - -

After checking into her hotel and getting everything taken care of at the home front, or more-less the rental front, Sarah walked out onto the sunny streets of Rome to bask in the sunlight before the screeching melodies of a military parade echoed through the city. All in all, she wasn't a great fan of Transvaal or Van Matteus for that matter. The Transvaaler government had committed reprehensible crimes during the Malan regime and Sarah doubted that Van Matteus could do much better, she had heard the stories of brutality coming from her history and her past, but the more Sarah thought on the subject, the more parallels she drew between herself and the Transvaaler Prime Minister. They had both had brutal pasts, both strong and commanding women, and both wanted what was right for their country, or for Sarah her ideology that she hung onto of cynicism and pessimism. For a brief moment she thought about heading over to the parade grounds in the center of the city, but the idea of a total military parade with symbols of fascism everywhere. It would have been enough to make her sick. So instead she hastened to a small cafe owned by an elderly man to have tea while the day passed her by.

As she sat, stirring her drink with a silver spoon, the girl couldn't help but notice a dark figure sitting near her, chatting on the phone with some unknown on the other end. He was easily noticeable as his body was nearly busting out of his clothes and his skin as dark as night.

"She's here in Rome, some kind of political foray, really the perfect time to do it....she has a girlfriend who she hasn't seen in nearly forever of course she'll pull a stun...well if that doesn't happen I have other ways of doing so. My decision and I'll kill her the way I want....pity she was just elected Prime Minister too." At that, the man shot Sarah a death stare as she couldn't help but notice the conversation. He clenched his hand into a horrific fist of awesome strength and got up from the table. For most people this would have been a time to forget what had ever happened. For heroes this would be a time to run to the nearest police officer and explain in great detail that there could possibly be an attempt on the Transvaaler Prime Minister's life. But for Sarah, this was a time to think, she leaned back in her chair and took another sip of tea. "Why couldn't he be gunning for someone like Malan." She said to herself. "That would be much more appropriate." She pounded her hand lightly on the table. "$%&@. The woman just began, I'd be dammed to just let a maniac have his way."

Finishing the rest of her tea, she pushed the chair out and got up to begin walking down the street towards the south of Rome. She needed a particular service, one which walking through the ghettos of Buenos Aires, she had picked up with great finesse.

- - -

"I already told you babe, those aren't for sell for the price that you're giving me. I told you what you can do and we can take care of this real easy, but for a gem like you, I don't want cash."

Sarah's eyes rolled as she stared at the black haired punk looking up at her. In front of him was a .22 caliber pistol equipped with a silencer. He had been shocked at first with her knowledge of firearms and weaponry in general, but that just made it more appealing to screw with her. "I'm offering you five hundred lira for that gun and you're not going to take it?"

"I said two hundred and we go upstairs."

"And I said five hundred and we don't. I don't want to be anywhere near a putrid thing like you any longer than I need to be."

The punk laughed and bobbed his head. "Okay, well how about, you don't get the gun, you're coming upstairs with me and if you don't I'm just going to kill you right here." He turned to two large men behind where Sarah stood as they took out two knives, staring at her menacingly. "You really want to end your life like this? It'd be so much easier the other way."

One of the men lunged at Sarah thrusting the knife towards her stomach, she swooped out of the way catching him off guard then kicking out his legs dropped him to the floor, while buying a little more time by nailing her foot into the second guard's chest. With the first one on the ground, she returned, picked up the man's head and kneed him in the face, knocking him out cold. By this time the punk behind the table had already ran forward and loaded the gun he had displayed on the table. But with quick work, Sarah grabbed the knife from the downed guard's hand and whipped it into his hand. The pistol dropped to the ground, as the punk went down screaming the blood dripping from his wrist. Knocking out the second guard was another kick in the face before walking over to the dropped gun and picking it off the ground. Smiled at the bleeding criminal. "So I'm guessing that the deal is for free now?" She mocked and then walked out of the room they had sheltered themselves in.

Sarah walked out onto the darkened city streets of Rome with her new toy and having lost the OVRA guards who had followed her since the airport, wandering through the back alleys and into the ghettos where no foreigner was indeed safe, she was now at least a bit more free to pursue her objective at finding and keeping Annetjie safe. Walking as fast as she could, Sarah made haste towards the Transvaaler embassy, thinking that it was probably the best place to start and she was right in believing that. From the distance she watched as a woman with a black bob went off onto the streets. She smiled, Annetjie was as smart as they came.

She followed the Prime Minister from the embassy to where her lover's apartment was near the Tiber, always staying in the shadows, out of sight from the OVRA, from Annetjie, and especially from the hulking man from earlier in the afternoon. Pulling herself into a back alley, she waited in the shadows, waiting for a move.

Finally it came, Sarah watched as Annetjie left the apartment and began walking towards her, down the street, she seemed so peaceful, so tranquil, until the hulking man stepped out from the shadows as well. Sarah wasted no time at this point in revealing herself out of the shadows and slowly creeping behind the hulk, as a wraith out of the darkness.

“You Afrikaners set me up and sold me out! I have been waiting and planning, planning and waiting… for the day… to now get my revenge on the whole lot of you! It was I who killed Riaan van der Byl, now it is your turn to die…”

Closer...

“I don’t know why you want to kill me… I was no friend of Riaan’s… I wasn’t involved in his Katanga Free State scheme… I had nothing to…"

She tripped and a shot rang out as the hulking man fired his gun, only narrowly missing Annetjie as she fell to the ground. He walked up to her and aimed down, he placed his hand on the trigger, and Sarah pulled her own. The blood splattered in the air for a moment as the bullet pierced through his head before the massive body fell to the ground. It was at this point that the wraith stepped out of the shadows, her blonde hair gently waving in the breeze of the city, as her piercing blue eyes looked down at Van Matteus as the politician got to her feet.

“Who on god’s earth are you?”

Sarah smiled, lowering her gun, the smoke hovering around her figure. "My name is Sarah Tintagyl."

Suddenly, out of the night air came the screams and shouts of the civilians "What's going on??"

"Someone got shot, call the police!"

Sarah felt Annetije grab her arm as she pulled her up the hill back towards the apartment. “I don’t know you but I thank you for saving my life. Quick, follow me. We need to get out of here before the police show up.” They kept waking at a hurried pace, as Annetjie stared back at the body of the hulking man. “Our friend here will help delay the police’s attention…”

By this time, Sarah and Annetjie had broken into a run towards the building. “I know someone who lives nearby, we will be safe there until everything passes over.”

"All right. Lets get there." Sarah said her voice stern. "We can't afford to be out here right now." Then she stopped Annetjie and turned her around quickly, with a bit of force. "We have a lot to talk about, you and I."

- - -

Two units were immediatly dispatched into the area by the nearest Police Headquarter. The loud electronic sirens could be heard in the night, breaking the silence. At the sight of the squad cars, the windows where people have been watching at the scene are suddenly shut. Sarah and Annetje must chose the next move before they could get in sight of the squad cars. A couple of members of the MVSN (Volounteer Militia for National Security), known by the population with the nickname of "Blackshirts", Borghese's death squad, were alerted by the shot, and the shouts. They are not armed with firearms, but anti riot batons and knifes, they all wear black shirts with the typical italian Fez hat.. they are the real "fascisti", the fanatical supporters of Junio Borghese. Their duties space from beatings to arsons and intimidations, but their favourite hobby is sorround the victim, beat, and eventually kill anyone who causes harm to the population or 'the safery of the nation', according to the official statute "I see them, let's go get them boys!" someone answers with the battlecry of the Italian army "EJA EJA ALALA'!!!", and just like a group of gladiators, they start to run against their targets.

However, they are too far to recognize Annetje or Sarah, two shadows in the night. Taking place in the center of Rome, the latin urban environment offers many ways to escape from the scene between buildings, under the acient bridges, in the sewers, inside ruined buildings (those still awaiting for demolition or reconstruction).

- - -

Annetjie van Matteus snapped at Sarah with her gallows humour: “Sister, now is not a very good time for chit-chat. Are you coming with me or are you going to wait here for the police to find you? We’re not far now…”

In the distance a siren wailed. That was enough for Van Matteus, who continued running and rounded a bend off to the left. Sarah shrugged and followed after her.

When Sarah rounded the corner, Van Matteus was buzzing frantically at an apartment door. The door finally buzzed open and she stepped inside – and almost as an after thought, holding it open for Sarah who was now close behind. The door latched shut and Van Matteus briefly peered through the hazy, grimy window to see if anyone followed them. “It looks pretty quiet on the street, I think we’re safe here.

She led Sarah up two flights of stairs to apartment 27. As they approached, Sarah could see an attractive woman in her 30’s with long, dark hair look out. She was in her nightdress and had a worried expression on her face. Evidently Van Matteus had woken her up.

“What is wrong Annetjie?” she asked. Her strong accent gave her away as being Italian. Van Matteus didn’t answer her, but instead commanded “We need to use your phone.”

“Who are you calling?” asked Sarah.

Until this point, Annetjie van Matteus never considered whether this mysterious Sarah Tintagyl even knew who she was. Monica certainly had no clue that her former foreign lover was the ruler of some distant African nation. Van Matteus had only told her minimal details about her life in Transvaal and that she worked at the embassy as administrative staff. She felt the less Monica knew, the better for both women just in case someone ever caught wind of their discrete liaisons. As far as Monica knew, her girlfriend was named Annetjie Burgers (her mother’s maiden name) and processed passports and visas all day.

“Malan? It’s me Annetjie, Sorry to wake you, but I’ve run into some unexpected trouble.”

“No, I am fine. I am not hurt – but someone tried to kill me. I’ll explain later.”

“Yes, I am at Monica’s right now.” She shot a glance at Monica and then Sarah. “Bring the armoured diplomatic Mercedes with the smoked windows, as I think we will have some passengers joining us.”

Van Matteus hung up the phone. Monica kept repeatedly asking “Annetjie, what is wrong?” but Van Matteus ingnored her as she took stock of the situation. “Monica, turn off the lights!” She then went towards the window and glanced out into the darkness. A police car drove slowly by but didn’t stop.

- - -

The police inspector crouched down and went through the coat pocket of the dead black man. He had been shot almost point blank in the back, it looked like just one shot perfectly through his rib cage and puncturing his heart.

He felt some papers or something, he pulled his hand out of the pocket. “Hmm, what’s this? He thumbed through it, it was a passport – a Transvaler passport – for someone named Luther Sithole.

- - -

Van Matteus relaxed somewhat. She sat down on the old couch and drank from some coffee which Monica had made for the two women.

She spoke to Sarah. “So, who exactly are you… coming from nowhere to save my life? I suppose I now do owe you one in return. If you need assistance to escape Italy, I can arrange it, as I know people in high places.”

Van Matteus grinned sheepishly but something wasn’t quite right with this Sarah character. She had a gut feeling that Sarah knew, somewhat, who she was – but Van Matteus didn’t like being in the unsettling, defensive position of not knowing who this stranger truly was.

“We have around an hour before the cavalry will arrive to rescue us.”

“So, who exactly are you… coming from nowhere to save my life? I suppose I now do owe you one in return. If you need assistance to escape Italy, I can arrange it, as I know people in high places. We have around an hour before the cavalry will arrive to rescue us.”

Sarah smiled and picked up the coffee from the table and took in the aroma, she had to hand it to the Italians, they knew how to make a good cup of coffee. "Who am I?" The former leader couldn't help but laugh. "I'm honestly surprised you don't know who I am Annetjie, because I know you quite well, you and your insolent !@#$%^& that is your current Ambassador of Italy. As I said before, my name is Sarah Tintagyl, the former Lady Protector of the Hanseatic Commonwealth." The blonde woman sighed for a moment and took another sip of her coffee. "I knew that I looked a bit different, but I didn't think I had changed so much as you couldn't even recognize me." Sarah looked down at her arms and her skin. It was true, she had changed a great deal since Brisbane, with the added muscle and the bronzing, but still, hadn't she been one of the most recognizable figures in the world, the defeater of Nordland, the Angel of Peace, everything else. How could Van Matteus really not know who she was.

"As for saving your life Annetjie, it had not been my intention when I came to Italy to be playing hero, but to be honest when I heard our friend from before talking over with someone on the phone at a cafe that he was going to do you in, well I couldn't just let a fellow female leader like yourself perish right when your rule begins." Sarah looked up into Annejtie's eyes and time would seem to freeze. It had always been those eyes that possessed the men of Europe, Asia, and Oceania, that could cut deep into the hearts and souls of men, women, and children, the richest of the rich and the poorest of the poor. "During my reign as Lady Protector, I had high doubts of any such progressive movements coming out of Transvaal, but when Malan stepped down and you took over, I had hope, I had hope that perhaps in the future, the South African people, white and black could learn to love each other in total equality. You are a visionary Annetjie, you are the hope for Transvaal and I for one could not let you die, not to that madman that pointed a gun at your head."

"I guess I see a little bit of myself in you, even though you might be older than I am." Sarah chuckled. "But countries need strong rulers, something I was not. But I couldn't allow myself to continue to rule. The recent hegemonies, the Dragons, the Eurasians, all replaced what I defeated in Nordland and it was time for my leave. But I still hang around the world, I just can't seem to step away from the thing I strove so hard to help find eternal peace."

Sarah pulled out the gun and placed it on the table. "I guess I figured you wouldn't know who I am. A former leader who kills, but then I wouldn't have expected the Prime Minister of Transvaal to have a secret lover." She chuckled. "But don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I can tell you right now, I've done much worse. But there you go. That's who I am, Sarah Tintagyl, the former leader, the adventurer, the soldier and I'm here to help whatever you AnnejtieVan Matteus, what ever you need."

She took another sip of the coffee. "Though as to escaping Italy, given that I just killed someone, yes, it would be a big help probably."

- - -

The three women in the apartment see the helicopter's search lights moving on the neighborhood. Some people are talking behind the walls, someone is worried, someone is scared, someone is trying to see what's going on. It seems like security got tightened. Officers and members of the MVSN are now everywhere on the streets, they beleive the assassin is still in the area and are looking for him... someone said it's a blonde man, someone said it was a black male, they don't really know who they are looking for. The OVRA was probably on alert aswell, and dispatched a unit into the area. They do not look like policemen or members of the MVSN, they usually move with old, ruined cars.. or rather move by foot.

Another police car passes by the window and stops on the other side of the road. An officer steps out and says something in strict Romanesque dialect trought the car's megaphone, a foreigner can hardly understand anything he says "This is the State Police. Due to recent unrest, this area has been sealed off, please stay in your homes and cooperate with the law forces.. This is the State Police. Due to re.."

The officers are now going building to building, searching in the undegrounds, behind dumpsters, in alley ways, and sometimes even kicking some doors opens.. shouts and scream are heard in the night from the nearby flats, noises sometimes covered by the helicopter flying over the house.

-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK- BOOM!!

They are coming up from the stairs, they are talking, giving orders, or knocking at the doors "Polizia!! Open the door!!" "I didn't do anything, leave me alone!" "Open the door, now!!" BOOM, BOOM - CRASHHH! "No, don't!!" noises of broken glasses, furniture being kicked on the ground.

- - -

"I'm honestly surprised you don't know who I am Annetjie, because I know you quite well, you and your insolent !@#$%^& that is your current Ambassador of Italy. As I said before, my name is Sarah Tintagyl, the former Lady Protector of the Hanseatic Commonwealth."

Annetjie van Matteus was taken aback and gasped.

“You, the Sarah Tintagyl? You must excuse me – when you first mentioned your name it simply did not register. Let’s face it, the strangeness and suddenness of your appearance caught me completely off guard.”

Van Matteus laughed, in her dark humour she quipped “all we need now is for Kaiser Martens to show up delivering pizza.”

The three women could hear the commotion down in the apartment courtyard. “Unwanted guests… damn, where are you Malan?” Van Matteus exclaimed. The Transvaler noticed Sarah’s face cringe at the mention of Malan’s name.

“Don’t judge Petrus Malan too harshly, he was a simple officer who was thrusted into power when our world came crashing down. He did as best as he could considering the dire circumstances, lord knows I have done worse in the past. Terrible times often require terrible methods, and at least Malan knew when to fold his cards” admitted Van Matteus in a rare display of guilt regarding her past.

Then she regained her composure. A smirk appeared on her face. “The irony here is Petrus Malan may end up saving your life in getting you out of this mess.”

''"I guess I figured you wouldn't know who I am. A former leader who kills, but then I wouldn't have expected the Prime Minister of Transvaal to have a secret lover." She chuckled. "But don't worry, your secret is safe with me.”''

Sarah’s comment about Monica resulted in a narrowed glare from Van Matteus. For a brief moment, Sarah felt the unnerving sinister side which Van Matteus had been famous years ago. ‘I struck a nerve in the ice queen - she’s actually embarrassed about her secret’ realized Sarah to herself.

Annetjie looked out the window again, now seeing the street ablaze with police cars. Looking back at Sarah, she said: “I think our best option here is to just go straight on into danger and hopefully we can bluff our way outside. They’d be expecting anyone in trouble to run away and hide – not to confront their fears and walk through the lion’s den.”

“Come.” Van Matteus said calmly. She walked to the couch and picked up her coat laying there, putting it back on. Opening the front door a crack, she peered out and could see the MVSN two floors below knocking on doors. They could slip out of the apartment and not attract attention which one they exited. However they would have to go through the MVSN to get outside.

At this point, Van Matteus felt bringing Monica would be a liability to their escape. Sarah Tintagyl however, Van Matteus acknowledged, had the wits to improvise all the necessary lies should they get arrested and interrogated – although Van Matteus guessed that the Italians would not arrest the Transvaler prime minister due to the diplomatic embarrassment it would cause. However she felt she owed it to Sarah to get her out of here with the least trauma. Plus the irony of Sarah relying on Malan for escape now bemused her somewhat.

Annetjie van Matteus gave Monica a quick peck on the cheek – whispering “ciao bella” in her ear – before taking a deep breath and stepping outside. Sarah Tintagyl followed her. “Follow me” said Van Matteus quietly.

The two women walked down two flights of stairs. The MVSN now noticed them. Van Matteus walked up to the closest MVSN agent and pulled out her passport. Handing it to the agent, she spoke sternly in as authoritative voice as she could muster: “This says who I am, me and my guest here were visiting a friend of mine. We are waiting for my ambassador to make his way here and pick us up.”

Handing it to the agent, she spoke sternly in as authoritative voice as she could muster: “This says who I am, me and my guest here were visiting a friend of mine. We are waiting for my ambassador to make his way here and pick us up.”

Then, as an afterthought, Annetjie van Matteus added “So, err... what is going on here?”

"Annetje van Matteus? The Prime Minister of Transvaal?" the man was confused, or maybe he was suspecting something, after all he is an inspector.. and he knows the area is not rich, there are no relevant buildings around except flats and small shops, a man with Transvaaler passport was found dead only a few blocs from the flat.. and now the Prime Minister of Transvaal.. followed by another woman "I'm Inspector Coliandro.. i think we should.. hold on.. may i her passport too?" he is looking at Sarah, not sure if he recognized her, but everyone at the entrance is looking at the woman, they whisper something.. and one of them grabs the radio, following the orders of inspector Coliandro.. "This is 158 to Dispatch, we have Prime Minister Annetje van Matteus right here.. she is with another woman.. i think i know who she is but.. i'm not sure, we are checking her passport now, over" "Roger 158, you need reinforcements?" "Negative, over and out"

- - -

At the Embassy of Transvaal, the two OVRA agents suddenly wake up from their sweet dreams.. they look at each other, like they know how incompetent they are "!@#$!!! Go go go!!!". Pretty soon the driver turns on the engine and turns on the blue flashing light previously placed on the roof "Faster faster!!"

Just then a black Mercedes sedan comes barreling out of the Transvaler embassy compound – almost colliding with the OVRA parked automobile out front.

At the wheel is Petrus Malan, still in his pajamas and housecoat. He seems to be making for the closest bridge across the Tiber.

- - -

Back at the apartment, Annetjie van Matteus urges Sarah to hand over her passport or whatever identification she was carrying. Quietly she says to Sarah, reiterating “…don’t worry, we’ll be all right.”

Van Matteus then said to Inspector Coliandro: “Signore Inspector, the ambassador will be here shortly, so would it trouble you if we all waited outside out front until he arrived?” She nodded upwards to the floors above, “It’s past midnight now, perhaps we shouldn’t be keeping all the tenants unnecessarily awake at such a late hour?”

- - -

Things just seemed to keep getting worse, and worse, and worse. First of all, Sarah found herself being saved by the very same person that she had held an embargo against years ago, the police had showed up at the apartment looking for the murderer of the hulking man who was probably still laying dead on the street below, and now she was face to face with Italian inspectors who were looking for her. She had her fake passport, which was a blessing in itself, but she was still very cautious at trying to get out of the hair of both Annejtie and the inspector that was in front of them.

"hold on.. may i her passport too?"

Sarah took a deep breath and stared at the inspector with dim eyes, it was the last thing she wanted to have to do. But almost immediately, Annejtie turned to her and smiled, it was a genuine display of friendship which considering their differences, Sarah was happy to have.

“…don’t worry, we’ll be all right.”

She nodded her head and reached into her back pocket, pulling out the passport and papers that gave her the identity of Cecilia St. Clair. "I trust all my papers should be in order Mr. Inspector, but I would agree with the Prime Minister, we have been with her friend all night. We heard the gun shots and went to the window, but I'm afraid that besides a few running shadows nothing came to my attention." She said as vague as possible. "Though it is getting late and I would really much like to lay down in the embassy where at least I know its save, if we could go downstairs and wait, we'd be most appreciative."

- - -

"I trust all my papers should be in order Mr. Inspector, but I would agree with the Prime Minister, we have been with her friend all night. We heard the gun shots and went to the window, but I'm afraid that besides a few running shadows nothing came to my attention."

Inspector Coliandro carefully reads the passport, touching the paper, checking the stamp.. "Prime Minister Van Matteus can go outside and wait for the car.. but we must ask you a few questions first" the man turns around and orders two men to go upstair and check Monica's apartment. Pretty soon they would be knocking at her door.

Meanwhile, the two OVRA agents with the task of following Annetje van Matteus have finally reached the area "Look over there!". They stop infront of the building and quickly get out of their vehicle. They make a quick run to the door and enter the building showing off their badges to the police officers and Inspector Coliandro.. at the sight of the OVRA agents, Coliandro steps aside, handing Sarah's passport to one of them "Thank you Inspector.. let Prime Minister van Matteus leave the building, and call your men back.. we take it from here.." "Yes sir.." Inspector Coliandro looked scared, intimidated by the man.. who had the look of a serial killer, not an OVRA agent.. or maybe the two things are strictly related. "Now back to you.. Sarah.. St. Clair? What is the reason for your visit in Italy?"

- - -

Sarah chuckled and looked down at her feet, a smile creeping across her face. "So I guess having one of the most recognizable faces in the world isn't to my advantage anymore. I'm not going to try and lie to authorities, you've treated me with a great deal of respect so far and I appreciate that. But as to my visit to Italy, I just had a bit of a run in, in Austria and I came her to relax before going back home to Buenos Aires, to try and unwind a bit. I met Annejtie at the embassy and we came over to her friend's apartment here. There was a shot, we panicked and now I'm talking with you gentlemen. I don't believe vacationing here even for someone like me is bad right?"

- - -

The OVRA agent does not change his facial expression, his cold eyes are probably the result of one of the most horrifying trainings a man could receive in a government organization. The OVRA differs from the Secret Services, because the OVRA only cares about national security and its undercover operations never cross the border.. that's why it was created as a "law enforcement agency", somehow related to the State Police. Little is known about the agents and their activities, and they rarely expose themself like that.. but the situation is not ordinary "Vacation is not a crime.. falsifying your passport is.. and we also wonder what your business are in a country like Austria, torn apart by civil war. But if Prime Minister van Matteus trusts you.. i think we can skip the part where i ask what is a black male with Transvaaler passport doing in the back of a coroner van just a few blocs from here. Because that would get you in troubles i think.. and we both know you have no diplomatic immunity, unless.. you make it to the car coming to pick Mrs van Matteus. The interior of that car is territory of the Republic of Transvaal, we have no jurisdiction in there."

It is unclear what his intentions are, he is probably alluding to the fact that he could just arrest her right now and put her under interrogation in some underground of the Ministry of Interior, where many people go in, and only a few come out - in one piece. He steps aside but keeps lookingat sarah ..we know who you are, we can find you anywhere, you will always be followed.. thats probably what he is trying to say with his orwellian language, typical of any secret police.

- - -

Annetjie van Matteus stayed alongside with Sarah Tintagyl as the OVRA spoke with her - she wasn't going to allow the two of them become separated.

Once the OVRA had finished asking their questions, Van Matteus said to him: "Excuse me Signore, why don't you just let her come with me and save all of us time. After all, you know quite well that I can get a Transvaler passport done up with her name on it within a hour or so. I will vouche for her and make sure she remains in the custody of the Transvaler government until she leaves Italy with us tomorrow."

'Where the heck was Malan?' she thought. The OVRA was correct, as soon as Sarah entered Malan's car, they could not touch her.

To break the tension as they waited for the ambassador - and to set up a ruse - Van Matteus changed the topic. In a faux innocent manner she asked: "You spoke of a dead, African male with a Transvaler passport near here. Perhaps once the ambassador has arrived to collect us, we could go to the crime scene to investigate? Did you get a name of the victim?"

Suddenly a black Mercedes screeched to a halt. Behind it were two police cars, which Malan had simply ignored, with their lights flashing. The Ambassador got out and into the apartment building and over to where the two women were standing.

Sarah Tintagyl had to fight back the urge to laugh at the ambassador's dishoveled appearance. He was wearing his blue flannel pajamas and a burgundy smoking housecoat.

Malan walked up to the OVRA man. "What is going on here? Do you know who this is?" he bellowed. After a pasue, he said: "Annetjie, we have to talk... something big has happened in Pretoria.

- - -

"Excuse me Signore, why don't you just let her come with me and save all of us time. After all, you know quite well that I can get a Transvaler passport done up with her name on it within a hour or so. I will vouche for her and make sure she remains in the custody of the Transvaler government until she leaves Italy with us tomorrow."

"She needs a new passport to leave the country anyway.. this one is not valid, anymore" the agent scratches the passport right infront of Sarah, like he is forcing her to get in that car.. it is the only way to make sure she is going to leave the country anytime soon, hopefully tomorrow.. he will get in troubles when the HQ will receive the report of the whole situation, including the assassination of that african man [i]"Luther Sithole is the name on his passport..". When Ambassador Malan enters the building, the agent could barely hold his laughs... but he was committed. "OVRA, Organization for Vigilance and Repression of Anti-fascism.." after showing his badge, the agent points the car.. it looks like he has nothing more to add to the discussion, or he just doesen't want to get any further.

“Come Sarah...” urges Van Matteus, “Quickly, before they change their mind.”

As the two women make their way out of the apartment bulding towards the Mercedes, Petrus Malan calls out to Annetjie van Matteus in Afrikaans from the entrance way:

“Waarvan Monika, jy kan nou nie haar hier met hierdie boewe agterlaat nie…” *

She stops in her tracks. Quietly she says to Sarah, “Get inside the car, quick. I have to go back and get Monica to leave with us as well, the OVRA don’t like to get cheated out of an arrest, they will likely return for her once we have left Rome. She is innocent, harmless to them - but I cannot risk leaving her to that fate.”

“Malan, wait in the car with Sarah while I go bargain with the OVRA!” she barks. Petrus Malan looked at Sarah Tingatyl with suspicion, and then acquiesced.

“Annetjie, here… you are going to need this…” he tossed her his wallet. Sarah could tell it was stuffed with banknotes.

Van Matteus walked back into the apartment and sought out the head OVRA agent they had been speaking with.

“Excuse me Signore, one last thing to trouble you with. There is a woman in Apartment 27, as long as she is willing I want her to come with us as well. It would mean a lot to me… personally… if you could permit this.”

She then discretely flashed a thick wad of Transvaler rand banknotes at him.

“For all your troubles tonight dealing with this difficult episode”

The OVRA agent grabs the wad of banknotes and immediatly hides it in his pokets.. he just turns around and walks out of the building with his partner without saying a word. One by one all officers and MVSN members leave the building, and return to their patrol duties..

- - -

Meanwhile, Sarah and Malan waited in the embassy car for the Transvaler prime minister to return.

Sitting in the car, directly next to Petrus Malan was one of the most awkward moments of Sarah's life. She sat, her bottom shifting nervously in the seat as she twiddled her fingers waiting for a break in the ice that never came. Annetjie was taking too long and she was the only person in this whole godforsaken city who Sarah felt that she could trust, but perhaps the Prime Minister had been right, perhaps the man sitting next to her was no better a demon then herself.

"So I finally get to meet the Dictator of Transvaal himself." Sarah said looking up at the ceiling of the car. "The irony Mr. Malan is almost too much for me to comprehend, but I should be saying thank you instead of cutting you up." She sighed. "You're probably the only reason that I'm going to get out of this country alive now." Taking his hand, Sarah held it softly in her own. "I know we've had our differences in the past, but truly this does help me realize that we are what politics make us, so again, thank you for helping me out here."

Petrus Malan was taken aback by Sarah’s words. He was used to people calling him a dictator and he just allowed criticism to bounce off him and brushed it aside.

But no one had ever thanked him for doing anything – or at least that he could remember.

When he had to take command in the power vacuum of anarchy which gripped the nation, he did so because he was the last remaining military officer with any sort of functional command. The army had collapsed in a rout, the navy sent to the bottom of the sea. The airforce held out a little longer until outnumbered that it couldn’t get any aircraft airborne without being shot down within minutes. He swore an oath to defend the nation – and after about a week all that remained was Petrus Malan and the Transvaler Raketkorps – guardian of Transvaal’s small nuclear stockpile. He did was he had to, to keep Transvaal from succumbing to the invaders.

The man seemed tired. Not from the late hour right now, but tired in general. Tired in spirit. Defeated.

At the end of the day, he found himself kicked around and isolated by the civilian politicians. He did what he thought was the honourable thing and resign gracefully. He could have put up a fight but he was not a politician; he was a soldier. And he did not want to face another bloodbath brought on by civil war.

But in return Malan was shipped out of the country as an embarrassment.

“Drink?” he asked Sarah Tintagyl sheepishly, handing her a silver flask filled with Tahoe whiskey.

As Sarah grabbed it and took a swig, he quietly mumbled to himself “ja, you’re welcome.”

Someone overhearing him might have thought he said this out of Sarah’s silent answer of taking and quaffing his whisky – but he was finally coming around to respond to her comments of thanks in removing her from the clutches of the OVRA.

He then asked Sarah as she handed his flask back, “so where will you go after you leave Rome? You will fly out with Annetjie tomorrow for Windhoek. I am sure that she will then make the necessary arrangements to get you to Johannesburg and from there off to wherever it is you need to be.”

“Or… while you are in Transvaal you could see if she could arrange an audience with the old man himself…”

"Oh its been a while since I've had good Tahoan whiskey. Thank you for that Petrus." She leaned back and took the ponytail out of her hair, finally getting a bit comfortable for once. Sarah closed her eyes and tapped her fingers against her thighs. "After I leave Rome, we'll I guess I'm really not sure. I live in the Imperial Union now, part of their military actually so eventually I have to get back to Buenos Aires but in the meantime, I have wanted to visit and tour Transvaal for a long time really. I guess I've just had to set some kind of example to the world and since I condemned you in the past, vacationing there would be near impossible."

She chuckled awkwardly and looked over at the old man. He might have been a demon, but there was a calmness to his features and perhaps her own cold hard stares and her own rage inside had changed her greatly to appreciate men again. Though it was a first step, deep down she knew all too well, she hated the world. "The Old Man? You mean President Botha?" Her sapphire eyes lit up. "My God, it would be an honor, I don't know of many people who have been able to meet him and I would take it as a lifetime opportunity. If you could arrange such a thing, I would be most appreciative."

Sarah sighed and looked down at her feet. "Its funny, me sitting here with someone who is so radically different from me. It'd almost be like if Michael Martens would be here, though in that case we'd probably both have guns drawn to our heads. The world's changed so much, I've changed so much. To be honest Petrus, I don't even know who I am anymore. I feel...I feel so empty all the time."

Petrus Malan ignored Sarah Tintagyl’s comments regarding her previous condemnations.

“Eventually I have to get back to Buenos Aires but in the meantime...”

“Buenos Aires? That’s around five to six hours from Johannesburg. Our national airline doesn’t go to South America, but you should be able to pick up a flight on one of the South American carriers that makes refueling stopovers in Johannesburg when they are making their way from the Middle East or India.”

"The Old Man? You mean President Botha?"

“Yes, the Staatspresident. Talk to Annetjie when we’re on the plane tomorrow and away from here. I’m sure she would arrange an audience with him.”

The way Malan annunciated the word ‘audience’ made it sound like Staatspresident Botha was some sort of byzantine or oriental potentate.

“Our somewhat isolated location in the world as well as our withdrawn foreign policy means Mr. Botha doesn’t get to meet too many foreign leaders visiting Pretoria – except perhaps when the Transvaal Cup is going on in March.”

"To be honest Petrus, I don't even know who I am anymore."

Malan laughed, a rare smile cracked on his weathered face. “Well, it sounds like both of us have lived through interesting times thrown our way whether we wanted it or not…”

“Ach, look there… heads up!” Malan's tone becomes serious, they see the OVRA and MVSN agents making now their way out of the apartment.

Around a minute or so later, after the last one has departed the vicinity, Annetjie van Matteus and Monica come out the entrance of the apartment block at a brisk walk, almost a run. Van Matteus is carrying a suitcase while Monica clutches a handkerchief, quietly sobbing.

Malan starts the engine. “Here, you better move over” he said to Sarah as he leaned over to unlock the doors on the right side of the vehicle.

Van Matteus climbed in front with Malan while Monica took a seat in the back with Sarah. Tears were streaming down her face, and she looked at Sarah in embarrassment of her upset appearance. The woman has an expression of confusion and fear. She might even be in shock.

The automobile jerked forward suddenly as Malan sped off and headed back across the Tiber towards the Transvaler Embassy.

Around fifteen minutes later, the Mercedes glided into the embassy compound. The whole trip was made in an uncomfortable silence, but on their arrival Van Matteus turned around from the front and said to Sarah, “You are safe now, from now on you will be protected extraterritoriality with us. The Italians cannot touch you now.”

As the automobile stopped, one of the diplomatic staff came running out. He was hysterical.

“Madam Prime Minister! Mister Ambassador, hurry! Come quick! You have to hear what is on the radio!”

The four of them make their way inside, Van Matteus still carting along Monica’s suitcase. “Here, take this and make her comfortable” she says to one of the staff. Monica was ushered off into the residential wing while Van Matteus and Malan made their way – with Sarah in tow – into what looked like a lounge for relaxation and socializing with important guests. The radio is blaring. Van Matteus mentioned that they were tuned into Radio-Transvaal. The voice of an older man speaks over the airwaves in Afrikaans. Sarah guessed (correctly) that it is the voice of Staatspresident Botha himself.

Van Matteus and Malan listened intensely – before a look of shock appeared on both of their faces.

“Oh my god, the Staatspresident has just announced that Transvaal has re-aligned with Nordreich / Nordland!” a stunned Van Matteus informed Sarah Tintagyl. Malan then added, “We are witnessing the end of one era and the dawn of the next… no doubt, this will result in an ideological shift within the government. It all but closes the book on Hertzog's federalist legacy.”

- - -

The words seemed to bounce off her ears like hard rain as if the small piercings of water was literally tearing her soul and her body apart. How? How could this ghost continue to follow her everywhere she went, how could, after everything she had done, after all the blood she had split after all the tears she had cried was it still following her. To be honest, in the greater scheme of things, if Sarah had heard something like this say in Buenos Aires, or even some other random country during her travels, she would not be pained in the slightest. But it always came when she was around it, as though the whole ideology of Nordism seemed unable to be crushed. Why was everything worthless? Why was everything she fought for not seeming to have any effect anywhere? "But...but...it cant..."

Annetjie and Petrus were far too engulfed in the broadcast to notice her by this point, but there wasn't really anywhere she could go either. She was stuck in the embassy and in Transvaal at least for the next few days. Stuck in a country, allied to a nation and ideology she had tried so hard to eradicate. The irony was too much. "Ex-Excuse me for a moment won't you." Sarah said softly as she turned away from the radio and the two Transvaalers. She walked down the stairs towards the lobby of the embassy, turned a corner down a small empty hallway, and after finding a small couch she laid down and literally broke down, not hard as she was often accustom to as a young girl, but silent and steady tears that ran down her face and onto the hard wooden floor of the embassy.

"Everything I do is a waste, everything I did. I abandoned my people, I fled my country, I have literally done nothing with my life that was even close to being constructive and for what?" She spit into the air. "For everything that I tried to change, just to crash and burn around me." Sarah looked up into the sky and screamed. "WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!? WOULD YOU RATHER ME JUST DIE?! IS THAT WHAT'S HOLDING YOU BACK? IS THAT IT?!" The weak killed themselves, but Sarah persevered, even, when she didn't want to anymore and for as painful as it was, deep down, far deep down inside her heart she knew at least to herself that every decision she had made had been right. So while she might be remembered as one of history's great villains, or not remembered at all, a smile crept across her face. "You'll never win..."

- - -

Gzzzz Gzzzz "We interrupt this broadcast in order to bring you an important announcement. His Excellency General Junio Borghese is addressing the nation." Gzzz Gzzz

Through the tears, she could hear the Italian national anthem playing in the back ground as Borghese's voice came onto the air and so Italy too had joined the greater Nordic ideology. Not that this came as a surprise, the Borghese regime had always been prevalent to the Nords, Sarah found it even quite humorous for during the Valkyrie War it had not been the Nordic-Central nations to attack her through word of mouth, but instead nations like Italy to criticize her. Perhaps the Nords, in their Beer Halls and Pagan Temple were just too good to comment on a Christian Girl's racist crusade. Sarah sat up and wiped her eyes, there was no point in crying anymore because one could never truly wipe out an ideology of a people without becoming a destructive monster themselves. She was a villain in Italy and yet a heroine in Austria, an eyesore in Fascist Eastern Europe, but welcomed throughout North America.

"Funny." Sarah said to herself. "The whole world could divide over one ideology." She thought for a moment. "Well, perhaps another journey is in order after this on. One of a slightly less dark color, perhaps one that is a bit more bright." A grin crossed her face. They were out there, hiding, waiting to come back and she would find them and give them hope.

- - -

Sarah Tintagyl could hear the clicking of heels coming her way. She looked up and saw Annetjie van Matteus approaching her.

“Is everything alright? You look like a wreck, if you don’t mind me saying.” Van Matteus pulled up a chair and sat down across from her.

“Well… it also appears that the Italians have now followed our lead. While I think it was inevitable from their ideology that they should ultimately align with Nordland, I haven’t been able to figure out yet if this was something co-ordinated between Rome and Pretoria or simply coincidental. I have to admit that it all comes as a shock to me. And as far as I know right now no one else in the government nor the military had any idea that Staatspresident Botha was going to do something like this.”

Then she added, “It is very, very rare for him to take an active role in governing Transvaal – but whenever he does, it is often for an unforeseen reason to the rest of us. After all, he did not even see fit to intervene during the dark days of anarchy before Kruger and Malan seized power in the junta. Besides he does not have to answer nor explain himself to anyone.”

“No doubt when I get back to Pretoria I’ll be briefed by the Old Man on all the reasons why.”

The flat tone in Van Matteus' voice made it difficult for Sarah to gauge whether the prime minister actually approved or not. But then again, she could just be tired. The evening was late - actually now the early hours of morning - and had taken a drain on everyone involved.

Van Matteus could tell that something was troubling Sarah deeply. To take her mind off whatver it was, she suggested conspiratorially “Come… let’s go sneak a drink from Malan’s liquor cabinet, he’s got more of that Tahoe whisky! He’s gone off back to bed to be with his mistress. We won’t see him again until the morning.”

As they walked towards Malan’s office, Van Matteus said “Malan told me you were planning to make your way to Buenos Aries. After we land in Transvaal, I’ll see if we have any commercial freight flights heading to South America. It won’t be very glamorous as you’d be stuck on a bumpy old transport plane, but it’s free… and better yet, discrete.”

The Afrikaanse Lugdiens Boeing 747 had departed Rome around two hours earlier. It was now cruising somewhere over the southern reaches of the Sahara. Despite the large size of the aircraft, there were only four passengers aboard.

Years ago Transvaal used to economise and fly its government officials around on old airforce bombers, but after a few too many snickers of Staatspresident Botha showing up to international conferences packed like a sardine in rusted-out Lugmag B-17 bombers made the government realize that perhaps purchasing a suitable private transport more befitting would improve Transvaal’s image as a modern nation and not some third-world home of discarded second-hand aircraft.

On board were Annetjie van Matteus, her girlfriend Monica (who was sound asleep), Sarah Tintagyl, and Ambassador Petrus Malan – all located in the passenger lounge on the top level hump behind the flight deck. The sudden appearance of Malan on the flight was due to his recall to Pretoria for consultations regarding Rome-Pretoria relations in light of the new Nordreich alliance between them.

Annetjie walked up to where Sarah was sitting. “Come downstairs with me into the cargo hold, I want to show you something.”

The two women descended the spiral stair case onto the main flight deck. On commercial aircraft, this would be the main passenger area but this plane had been converted. All the passenger seats had been removed and converted into essentially a cargo plane. Sarah found it strange that the plane still wore the livery of Afrikaanse Lugdiens even those it was obvious the plane was never used by the airline.

They walked to the midsection, past Malan’s Mercedes and some other crates, where a black tarp was covering something very large and bulky. “Take a look at this Roman statute that Junio Borghese gave us,” said Van Matteus as she lifted up the tarp to show the head of Caesar. “We will probably put this in the entrance lobby of Government House in front of the main Volksraad chambers.”

Sarah could sense that Annetjie had something else on her mind, and that the statue was just a distraction to break the monotony of the long flight to Johannesburg.

“Malan told me back in Rome that you want to meet the Old Man? Is that so? I took the liberty of contacting Pretoria. The Staatspresident is currently relaxing at his private residence in the Cape region, and he is willing to grant you an audience if you so choose.”

- - -

Sarah had been in an uncomfortable state, somewhere between sleep and waking for much of the flight. She just couldn't get comfortable and when she did a sudden shake of the plane or a murmur from another part of the passenger cabin made her eyes flutter open again. Holding a small blue blanket and adjusting her pillow she tried to close her eyes again as they passed over the Sahara. As she sat and stared out the window, her hair hanging over the blanket ever so neatly, the quiet words of Annetjie filled into her ears.

“Come downstairs with me into the cargo hold, I want to show you something.”

The girl murmured for a moment before turning her eyes to the Transvaaler, Sarah nodded her head as she threw the blanket off onto the floor and followed Annetjie down through the passengers cabin and out into the cargo hold. There amongst the treasures that the Transvaalers had brought back with them from Italy was the great statue of Julius Caesar, Sarah couldn't help but chuckle when Annetjie showed her the statue. "I didn't expect you to be much a Roman historian Annetjie, especially with the new Nordic alliance going on. I was always under the impression that they hated the Romans. But Transvaal isn't Europe so that in itself is a plus." Sarah put her hands up in apology almost instantly. "Forgive me, just a bad history with that continent."

Sarah could tell she wasn't doing much for breaking the monotony of the situation as the Prime Minister forced another conversation out.

''“Malan told me back in Rome that you want to meet the Old Man? Is that so? I took the liberty of contacting Pretoria. The Staatspresident is currently relaxing at his private residence in the Cape region, and he is willing to grant you an audience if you so choose.”''

Sarah smiled and nodded her head. "That would be fine Annetjie, I would love to meet President Botha, it would be a true gift. But." She laid her hand on the Prime Minister. "Annetjie is there something bothering you? Seriously, since the gun fight, which I can understand can shake a person to their core you've seemed so shaky. I hope my presence hasn't done this to you cause you're one of the nicest people I've met in a long time. Whatever your past history was. I know you might not consider me a friend, but even I've given some thought of maybe calling Transvaal my final resting place, maybe retire here and all. I'd hope we could stay friends for a long time after that."

“I didn't expect you to be much a Roman historian Annetjie, especially with the new Nordic alliance going on.”

I’m not. Of course residing in Italy when I was our ambassador, I was bound to pick up some knowledge in passing but my overseas allegiances and interests, if you wish to call them that, have always been directed towards Nordland. After all, my father was born in Deutschland (which Sarah immediately realized explained her unusual not-quite South African accent) although he altered our surname of Von Matthias so it sounded more Boer to fit in better when he immigrated to South Africa before I was born. It also explains my ties to Namibia on account of the population of the Namibisches Deutsche people even though I was born in the Oranje Vrystaat. Trips there allowed me to experience my German heritage when I was a little girl.

"Forgive me, just a bad history with that continent."

“True. And that is probably why Staatspresident Botha has generally pursued a policy of non-involvement outside of Africa. He once said that Europe was a black hole that sucked in the worst and the best leaders into one confined space to collide with each other.”

Van Matteus laughed. “As you’ll find out, Staatspresident Botha likes to use allegorical descriptions to explain things. Like Roman history in Italy, those too are bound to rub off on you if you spent enough time working around him.”

"Annetjie is there something bothering you? Seriously, since the gun fight, which I can understand can shake a person to their core you've seemed so shaky. I hope my presence hasn't done this to you cause you're one of the nicest people I've met in a long time. Whatever your past history was. I know you might not consider me a friend, but even I've given some thought of maybe calling Transvaal my final resting place, maybe retire here and all. I'd hope we could stay friends for a long time after that."

Van Matteus was caught off guard by Sarah’s concern, as she never liked to show any sort of emotional weakness around people – certainly strangers like Sarah whom she only just met. She then blushed. “If you were around me enough, like the Old Man and his allegory, you would realize I am actually capable of great pain and evil. Sarah, I am not a good person. I have done things that bedevil me how I got away with my life. Most other people in my position, having gone through what I have, having done what I have, would now be six feet under with a noose around their neck.”

She seemed to be trying to distance herself from Sarah and her words gave the conversation a decidedly chilly edge. For a brief second the notorious butchering Ice Queen had returned. Van Matteus then changed the topic suddenly - but Sarah could feel an unsettling, sinister discomfort like one gets when around murderers and the insane.

“Anyways I am troubled by having to leave my daughter behind in Tahoe. Her… father… if you want to call him that, I found out recently that he is probably alive… which is not good for neither her nor I. He is only capable of creating suffering. I want to make sure she never has to go through what I did with him, so I moved her out of Transvaal.”

There was an uneasy silence.

“Well, we should probably get back upstairs. I need to get some sleep before we land. We will both be taking the train from Johannesburg down through to the Great Karoo and into the Eastern Cape. That is where the Old Man has his private retreat and farm tucked away in a quiet valley in the midst of the wine region.” said Van Matteus as she walked past Sarah to go back up to the passenger deck on the aircraft, but as she passed her Sarah stuck out her arm and grabbed her shoulder tightly. "We have all committed atrocities Annetjie, if I didn't think you were a worthy soul to be saved I would have had that monster on the streets of Rome pull his trigger. Instead, I am giving you the chance to make your live anew and reconcile those sins of the past. Annetjie we have all changed during our life and though perhaps I have not killed in the same fashion as you have or in the same state of mind as you have, I can assure you that we are both tainted forever with our pasts. Just know that you have a friend and one that will protect you until the end." Sarah shook her one last time to make sure the words stuck before letting the Prime Minister pass back up to the flight deck followed by the blonde adventurer.

Sarah settled back in her seat, an uneasy quietness falling over the plane. She pulled her blanket up to her neck and closed her eyes, but she was never able to fall back asleep. Annetjie Van Matteus had a story that Sarah could never hope to aspire to and it was one that she was thankful she had never been able to reach as well. The Prime Minister was more a political demon and racist than Sarah had ever hoped to encounter and what scared her deep down was maybe that the black man had been right in aiming the gun at her. Had Sarah just saved a demon from hell to let loose another reign of terror in South Africa? She tried to dispel the thoughts from her head, everyone deserved second chances, but who was she to play God and give those chances to people, though there was no doubt in her mind that she had altered history in someway from that moment.

The plane landed a few hours later and Sarah still had not been able to sleep and instead stretched her body and exited the plane along side her Transvaaler escorts awaiting her meeting with President Botha.

After a few hours, Sarah Tintagyl awoke suddenly to the sensation of the plane beginning its descent. She looked out the window expecting to see the urban sprawl and tin-roofed townships of Johannesburg below but instead saw blinding sand. They were over a desert. Annetjie van Matteus was sitting nearby and noticed that Sarah had woken up.

“We’re coming into Windhoek in Namibia. I need to touch down for a few hours as this is were I reside when not working in Pretoria. However we shall be putting you on a train that will take you southwards to the Cape – where Staatspresident Botha is currently on vacation.”

They received the signal from the pilot to buckle up.

The plane was down and screeched to a stop. Sarah looked out the window and saw the terminal. Windhoek airport was fairly small even by domestic standards. A sign beckoned in Afrikaans “Welkom in Windhoek” and in German “Willkommen in Windhuk”.

When she asked Van Matteus about the German sign and whether it was due to the new alignment with Nordland, Van Matteus replied “Oh no! German is still spoken here by the remnants of the Nordland settlers who came here over a hundred years ago. Notice how faded the paint on the sign is”. She laughed.

After disembarking from the plane, they walked over to some waiting vehicles. One of them had a Transvaler flag on it.

Van Matteus walked up to Sarah. “Well my friend, this is where our roads now part. I wish you the best of luck on your journeys. This car here…” pointing to a smaller, black BMW “…will take you to the train station. The chauffer will show you to the correct train. When you get to Cape Town, there will be a government official on hand to meet you. I hope you enjoy your visit with the Staatspresident.” The Transvaler prime minister then broke with the usual reserved manners of Afrikaner manners and gave Sarah a hug.

Very soon after landing at Windhoek, Sarah began to realize that despite being Africa’s oldest major regional power Transvaal had a very backwards feel to it once inside its borders. The whole country seemed like it was stuck in the late 1960s to mid-1970s in regards to modern conveniences – or lack thereof. Radio was more prevalent than television, almost all telephones still required dialing, digitalization was almost non-existent. Internet - what was that?

The only instance of 21st century technology she saw was the couple of sleek Lugmag Raptor fighters parked on the tarmac. She half-expected to see biplanes taking off instead.

The next leg of her journey to Cape Town only reinforced this quaint eschewment of modernity: Transvaal’s famed network of steam trains – the so-called Red Devils – which crisscrossed the Republic and one of which she now boarded.

In this regards, Transvaal was the undisputed leader of steam locomotive manufacturing and had perfected environmentally-friendly steam trains which were actually more efficient than most diesel-electrics found in Africa. Sarah found it amusing that while most modern nations had long since moved to diesel or electric engines, Transvaal still saw fit to continue to perfect the ultimate in steam locomotives.

At her arrival the Windhoek Station, the chauffer handed Sarah her tickets and escorted her to the boarding platform. The conductor, a black African, approached her and demanded to see her boarding pass. After a quick glance, his demeanor changed suddenly, and for the better – as he ushered her into one of the pristine first-class carriages.

In impeccable English, he said “Here you go, madam. Please enjoy your journey with us. If there is anything you require, please push this buzzer and someone will come to attend to you.”

From quickly looking around the station and the train, Sarah quickly noted that Transvaal’s railroad were managed and staffed almost entirely by black Africans – an exclusive employment concession which the government had seen fit to grant as a means to create a viable black middle class. Whites controlled and generally used the airlines, while blacks controlled and used the railroads – although there were quite a number of white Transvalers also boarding the train.

She settled into her cabin, a rather roomy compartment complete with a separate bedroom and sitting area and its own private washroom and shower.

Around half an hour later, the distinctive  sounded and the train lurched forward, making its way out of Windhoek Station and slowly exiting the south side of the city.

The train picked up speed as it headed into open country, vast… wide… desolate country. This was the Namib Desert – one of the most inhospitable locations on Planet Bob. In the days of sail, this was known as the infamous Skeleton Coast – so named for all the rusted out shipwrecks and unfortunate survivors to find themselves washed ashore. If the desert didn’t kill them first, then the natives would have.

The sun was now going down, so Sarah cleaned up ("a shower! finally!") and changed before making her way to the first-class dining carriage.

Just shortly after being seated, served a glass of water and handed the dinner menu, the train made a lurch suddenly as it appeared to be applying its breaks to come to a stop. Sarah's quick reflexes grabbed the glass of water before it spilt over her.

Suddenly all the lights went out. People screamed – but soon the announcer spoke over the train’s public intercom system in an attempt to calm them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please do not panic! We have received news that Transvaal is at war. We are undergoing blackout procedures.” Right away, the conductor and his assistants began pulling down all the windowblinds. As he went past Sarah, sensing that she was a foreigner, he said “Miss, whatever you do, please do not open the blinds or look out the windows unless all the lights are off… we do not want any enemy aircraft to spot us,” before rushing off to catch up with the rest of his staff.

Then the awful news broke. Sarah could hear someone somewhere in hushed tones saying… ‘that Staatspresident Botha had been shot', or 'killed', or 'kidnapped,’ or other amazing and preposterous rumours.

Sarah leaned forward and placed the water glass back on the table before leaning back on her seat. She wore a dinner dress made of black silk, with her wet hair from the shower still hanging straight over her face. As the passengers sat in the dark, Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. She felt alone again, lost in a hostile environment in a hostile country, though much better than Fascist Italy she had to admit. The entire dinner car was in a hushed fear, Sarah reached down to her leg and felt her inner thigh, the small pistol was still there strapped to her leg, but pulling it out here would be a horrible idea. "Transvaal at war?" Sarah said to herself. "Of all the times for this to happen, right when I'm given the chance to meet the Old Man himself." She almost chuckled in calling him by that name, Annetjie had apparently rubbed off on her.

Leaving her seat she walked up to one of the train conductors and took him sharply by the shoulders. Placing her fingers between the nerves in his neck, to get his attention quick and painful. Once he had turned around, the former Lady Protector looked at him in the face, her sapphire eyes, shinning even in the darkness of the train. "Sir, my name is Sarah Tintagyl, I am a commando in the Imperial Union's Special Forces and am on my way to see the Staatspresident. Is there anything I can do to help the situation right now?"

“Umm, wait here ma’am… I think there are some Krygsmagte officers her who could help you.”

Sarah released him and he scrambled off towards the very front carriage.

Sarah watched as the conductor ran off to the front of the carriage, while she stood alone in the center of the carriage feeling quite odd as all the eyes looked up at the woman in the black silk. She waited until the conductor brought back with him an entourage of military officers as well as agents from the Ministry of the Interior. The girl smiled seeing this, apparently her travel through the country was more important to the government that she would have believed previously.

A few minutes later, three officers in the sand brown tunics of the Krygsmagte appeared. With them were two men in dark suits and homburgs.

One of the suits spoke: “Greetings Ms. Tintagyl, I am with the Interior Ministry. We were placed on this train as escorts to ensure you reach your destination (the way he stressed destination implied he was not referring to Cape Town – the train’s end of the line) without incident but ordered by the Prime Minister herself not to interfere.”

“However under the circumstances, I suggest that you come with us. A few hours ago, some deranged fourth-rate power decided to launch a military strike on Staatspresident Botha’s private residence. The audacity of it! We have no understanding of their misguided motives – but trust me, they will pay dearly for their foolish actions. The Staatspresident was shaken but not harmed during the attack.”

She let out a sigh of relief at the words. "Good, thank God, I was sincerely worried that he might have been killed. With all these rumors going around already. But I'm glad that Annetjie van Matteus is still looking out for me." Sarah said with a smile. "As I said gentlemen if there is anything I can do, anything at all, just tell me. Otherwise, I'll be happy to follow you where take me. I trust it's going to be a long night and honestly, I love long nights."

=The Return to Nordreich= SEPTEMBER 16, 2009

Somewhere in Bloemfontein...

The revered stirred from his nap. The sun shone into his front room and the warmth basked him. Reverend Erasmus Du Toit leaned forward in his wheelchair and looked out the window. He wheeled himself over. The light outside beckoned him. It was calling. It spoke.

“Erasmus? Is everything all right?” asked his wife, calling from the kitchen. “What’s wrong dear?”

She made her way into the front room. Erasmus was right up face against the window, looking skywards. He seemed to be listening to something although Mrs. Du Toit heard nothing.

The light then disappeared, the sun moving behind some clouds. The room darkened again.

Reverend Du Toit turned around and looked at his wife. Then he spoke.

“The Lord told me one-thousand and six-hundred-sixty-six. That was the sign. In four days something will happen. The number 666 curses Transvaal... the 1,000 days of Tribulation will soon end.”

“Cursed, whatever do you mean?” querried his puzzled wife.

Erasmus Du Toit wheeled himself over to an almanac filed away on his bookshelf. He grabbed it and began to hurriedly flick through its pages. “There and there!” he pointed at the book.

Mrs. Du Toit picked up the book which the reverend handed to her. December 26, 2006 and November 25, 2007 were the dates which Erasmus had indicated. She read the captions below the dates:

December 26, 2006 – Staatspresident Botha declared unilateral independence from South Africa as Transvaal Afrikaners Republiek; nation accepted into the Nordreich Alliance.

November 25 - Transvaal accepted as a member of the Independent Republic of Orange Nations (IRON).

“What does this mean?” Mrs. Dut Toit was now utterly confused and suspected her husband was crippled with another bout of delirium which had stricken him after the assassination attempt on him last January which had kept him confined to a wheelchair.

“The Lord says that in four days the rule of Satan will end after the 1000 days of biblical tribulation since our nation’s birth. And on that same day Transvaal will have been a member of IRON for 666 days. 1000 days and 666 days will occur on September 21.”

The Reverend then lapsed back into his semi-state of dementia.

SEPTEMBER 21, 2009

The sun had been down for hours, but outside on the front stoep, in the cool evening air, the Reverend waited and waited patiently for the apocalypse to descend down from above.

After a couple of hours, Erasmus Du Toit started to become dismayed. ‘Perhaps I misunderstood what the Good Lord told me?’ he thought to himself. He was sure that he had been given the prophecy of the end times. Today was the 666th day of the Orange Republic. The Lord had instructed him that it would all end. So now where was all the fire and brimstone raining down from Heaven?

He shrugged – and decided to call it a night. He began wheeling himself back inside when his wife came running out the door.

“Erasmus! Come quick!” As he made his way through the door, he could hear the radio blaring away; it was the familiar voice of Radio-Transvaal, Lukas Reitz:

''“As we have just found out, Staatspresident Botha informed the Republican Government an hour ago that the Republic of Transvaal had henceforth broken with the Independent Republic of Orange Nations and would be making a return to its Nordic heritage by re-aligning with the Nordreich. The Era of the Oranje Republiek was now over!”''

Erasmus Du Toit then slumped over, falling forward out of his wheelchair down to the ground. The shock had been too much for his weakened heart.

REVEREND JAN VAN REHOBOTH, NEW LEADER OF NEDERDUITS GEREFORMEERDE KERK

The Reverend Erasmus Du Toit of the Nederduits Gereformeerde Kerk of Transvaal passed away early this morning from an apparent heart attack whilst on his farm.

Since the attempted assasination in January 2009 on the once notoriously outspoken leader of Transvaal's far right, Reverend Du Toit had retired to his farm in the Vrystaat to rehabilitate after awakening from a coma.

Confined to a wheelchair, the once supporter of draconian apartheid policies later recanted and spoke of reconciliation between Transvaal's whites and blacks. Although he retained his leadership as Supreme Pastor of the Dutch Reformed Church as well as his diocese appointment as Bishop of Pretoria, Du Toit was very rarely seen in public after his life-threatening injuries.

In an emergency synod held this afternoon, the Reverend Jan van Rehoboth was elected as the new Bishop of Pretoria and thus supreme pastor of the Dutch Reformed Church.

A private funeral has been requested by Mrs. Du Toit which will be held later this week in the reverend's home town of Bloemfontein.

OCTOBER 10, 2009

NATIONAL RECONSTRUCTION COMPLETED

CATHOLIC CHURCH REBUILT IN JOHANNESBURG: Bishop Markus van Bruggen of Johannesburg consecrated the new Roman Catholic cathedral in Johannesburg yesterday after the original structure was torched during sectarian violence last December. Prime Minster Annetjie van Matteus was on hand during the mass of consecration and thanksgiving.

ARMED FORCES COMPLETELY REBUILT: After months of minitary recosntrcution, the Transvaler Seemag finally reached full strength with the relaucnhing of the last ships originally scuttled during the period of surrender restrictions.

A NUCLEAR TRANSVAAL IS A PEACEFUL TRANSVAAL: Field Marshal Petrus Malan, Commander of the Transvaler Raketkorps, announced this morning that two days ago Transvaal detonated its first test nuclear device built since the Karma War at the Bouvet Island Proving Grounds. The Raketkorps has resumed its primary duty to maintain a defensive stockpile of 6 Seekoeitjie [Little Hippo] atom bombs.

BOERS IN SPACE: Transvaal joined the space race today when it launched three satellites into orbit above the earth. The Raketkorps, under the command of Field Marshal Petrus Malan, also constructed one additional missile defense complex. Malan stated that “it is Transvaal’s desire to construct an anti-missile defense system in space above Southern Africa.”

OCTOBER 12, 2009

REPUBLIEK VAN TRANSVAAL - FROM THE OFFICE OF STAATSPRESIDENT BOTHA

By the authority vested in me as Staatspresident of the Republic of Transvaal, I hereby proclaim the establishment of the autonomous province of Nieu-Hansa over the Cocos Keeling Islands.

For the posting of Provincial Governor, I hereby appoint Sarah Tintagyl.

As provincial governor and member of the Executive Cabinet of the Republic, Governor Tintagyl is hereby protected as a full citizen of the Republic of Transvaal and subject to all the benefits which citizenship entails. [signed] Botha Staatspresident of the Republic - October 12, 2009

OCTOBER 15, 2009

MAPUTO SHIPYARDS OPEN; SEEMAG EXPANSION

Maputo Shipyards located in Mozambique Province opened today with the launching of four new warships: SAS-28 Nemhauser (Clemenceau class aircraft carrier); SAS-29 Petrus Malan (Type 209/1400 submarine); SAS-30 Tahoe (Valour class frigate); SAS-31 Junio Borghese (landing ship)

All four ships will commence their Seemag service with operational manouevres in the Indian Ocean.

=Meeting between Botha and Sarah Tintagyl= OCTOBER 5-14, 2009

“Good lord! You want me to go in that?” exclaimed a surprised Sarah Tintagyl.

The group of Transvaler officers and her had been let off the train, which then steamed off on its way into the silent, cool darkness of the Namibian desert. The six of them stood alone under the moonlit evening sky. One of the soldiers lit a small campfire and made some boiled coffee while they waited until daybreak.

As the sun began to rise over Africa, the sound of a helicopter in the distance could be heard coming closer to them.

The sight of the contraption was not very uplifting – as an antiquated Nordic-built dual-roter helicopter deceneded in front of them. While Sarah seriously weighed the survival odds of lasting out in the blazing desert sun and risking her life in this bucket of bolts, one of the Krygsmagte officers encouraged her, “It’s the only thing we have that can land in the sandy soil, what would you expect? Afrikaanse Lugdiens non-stop to Jo’burg? Besides, Staatspresident Botha is fond of this bird and uses it often to get around on his private business. It’s perfectly safe – hasn’t crashed yet!”

Sarah cautiously climed on board and strapped herself in as the craft become airborne and turned to the south.

“It’s a five hour flight to George Plass, the Staatspresident’s farm around 600 kilometres away.”

She thought to herself ‘this wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I said I love long nights…”

"Six-Hundred Kilometers! In this?" Sarah said as she buckled herself to the chair and leaned back against the seat. "Five hours, good lord." The problem was that she hated flying in planes to begin with, she had always hated flying in planes, planes and elevators anything that made her feel enclosed and no amount of training was going to get her out of a crash if this thing went down. Sarah had survived one plane crash already and that adventure, just thinking about it made her get goosebumps. 'Rather nothing think of something from a previous age.' She thought to herself as the blades of the plane began to whirl around, a sickening sound coming out of them. The heavy smell of gas and fumes in the air lit up across the abandoned desert as the craft ascended to the sky, Sarah's fingers gripping her chair tightly, her eyes darting this way and that as they broke off the ground.

"So this thing has never crashed?" She called out to the pilot. It also didn't help that she was alone on the passenger deck, plus Transvaal was at war. What if they were brought down by an RPG? So many things could go wrong right now and she could feel the beads of sweat already forming on her face and traveling down her neck and body. Couldn't they have at least let her change her dress?

"Nope, we've been pretty good so far Ms. Tintagyl." Returned the pilot from the cabin ahead. "You should probably get some sleep, its going to be a long flight." A sudden bump sent the copter shaking through the air for a minute as Sarah's eyes widened.

"You want me to sleep on this thing? You must be out of your mind?" Sarah broke her grip on the old seat and closed her eyes. "Sarah, c'mon, you've been shot at, almost killed a dozen times, its just a plan-" Another bump sent them reeling towards the ground before the pilot was able to bring the copter back up to flying straight. "Christ! Can't you fly this thing right!" She screamed at the cabin, but never got a response. It was going to be a long night indeed.

A few hours later as the helicopter began to head southeast, Sarah looked out and noticed that the desert was giving way to grasslands. Ahead in the distance, was a chain of snow-capped mountains. The terrain was now a combination of flatlands with scrubs amongst scattered hills and small flat-top mountains. But it was the large snow-capped ones far off which drew Sarah’s attention.

“Beyond those is George Plass – the Staatspresidents’s farm” said one of the crewmen when they noticed Sarah appear near the flight cabin.

The helicopter began to climb. It was now getting rather cold, a combination of the altitude as well as Sarah not being dressed for the flight. Someone from the cabin threw a heavy aviator coat towards her. She put it on.

The peak was now directly below them. Sarah reckoned that if the decrepit helicopter went down here, she’d freeze to death in a few minutes. ‘Strange’ she thought, ‘I never figured Africa could actually be cold enough to have snow anywhere.’

Thankfully the helicopter began its decent. The air in the cabin began to warm up somewhat. Down below she could see a picturesque white building sounded by lush greenery.

“George Plass” said the pilot.

Five hours later, the copter finally touched down outside of Botha's private residence and instantly after the wheels touched down, if anyone was around, they would see a woman in a black dress fall out of the passenger cabin onto the ground, on all fours as she began to cough violently and finally let loose a stream of vomit onto the sandy ground. "Definitely not what I had in mind for a long night." Sarah said moving her long hair out of the way of her vomit as she looked up into the bright sky, her body still perspiring. But she had arrived and in one piece too, finally being able to see Botha face to face.

There was some radio chatter in Afrikaans with the ground – although Sarah did hear her name spoken.

Finally the helicopter touched down a few hundred metres from the farm house. There were men in suits at the landing site waiting. After the rotor blades stopped, the crew unbuckled themselves from their seats and extracted themselves from the cramped cabin.

“See? That wasn’t so bad” the pilot said to Sarah.

The main entrance door was now open. Sunlight beckoned them and a gentle warm breeze basked over Sarah as she stepped down on to the ground. ‘I forgot it was now almost summer down here’ she thought.

A large African man, bald and wearing dark sunglasses along with an earpiece walked up to Sarah. He took a look at the woman, and seeing the state of her dress, she said ‘Come with me, you can freshen up and rest before you meet His Excellency. Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus said you could borrow some of her clothes that she keeps stored in one of the guest rooms.’

Apart from the ground crew working with the helicopter and birds chirping in the fruit trees, it was otherwise silent. It was obvious that the farm was the scene of a lot of activity, judging from the vehicles parked near what looked like an aerodrome shed (probably for the helicopter) and the scale of the farming, but it was strangely devoid of the human activity one would expect associated with running an operation such of this size.

“Here you go ma’am”, said the man escorting her. “This will be your guest room while you stay with us. I will give you a couple of hours and then call on you to take you to His Excellency.”

The ‘room’ was actually a small cottage, around 500 feet from Botha’s main house which sat alone away from the rest of the complex. There were half a dozen of these cottages –all linked by a narrow paved pathway. Inside the cottage was some clean clothes lain out on the bed and an assorted hamper of snacks and refreshments on the main table. A silver teapot of steaming hot rooibos tea waited to be drunk. Next to the rooibos was a bouquet of flowers, with a note attached in cursive handwriting. “Welkom in Transvaal – Botha”.

- - -

“See? That wasn’t so bad”

She turned and glared at the pilot while she wiped her mouth from the spit and vomit still hanging from her lips. "No, that was just exactly what I look forward too every night. Flying through the desert and snow covered mountains in a bucket of bolts." Sarah sighed and pulled the jacket she had been given tight around her and looked back at the pilot who seemed genuinely hurt by her comment. "I'm sorry, its just that I don't like to fly all that much and when I do, that's the last thing I want to be flying in. Trust me, I'm a Colonel in the Imperial Union's Special Forces and when I was Lady Protector I had to fly everywhere, its something that I've never gotten used to."

But as the sun shone over the hills and hit her soft white skin, it warmed her to the touch and she smiled taking off the coat. Though looking down, her evening dress was pretty much ruined. As Sarah sat in the morning light, a large African man walked down the path towards her with a smile on his face. ‘Come with me, you can freshen up and rest before you meet His Excellency. Prime Minister van Matteus said you could borrow some of her clothes that she keeps stored in one of the guest rooms.’

"Thank you very much." Said Sarah as she took his hand and led her across the farmstead.

The Botha plantation in the early morning had the feel of something Sarah had not felt in a long, long time. Her grandparents when she was very young, if she could remember correctly only about five or six years old, had a great plantation in Southern Poland, it was in Nordland at the time, but the Tintagyl family was influential enough to own the land without the state bothering them, even if they were foreigners. The sun always seemed to shine brightly in a clear blue sky, as the morning dew dripped silently off the trees onto the ground below. Birds sung a melody in the distance and the young Sarah Tintagyl with pink ribbons in her hair would smile as she looked over the rolling Polish fields heading off into the Tatra Mountains. It reminded her a lot of the past and she couldn't help but sigh, it was nice to at least see a replica of something she longed for, for so long. It was this kind of setting she wished she could have for the rest of her days.

Finally the man lead her to a small cottage a small distance away from the main residence. He told her he would be back in a few hours, which would give the girl ample time to freshen up, shower, and change into something much more pleasant. Inside the cottage, which was as quaint as it was cozy, with a soft bed and warm decorations around the room. A clean pressed outfit lay across the bed, while a tray of food and tea was sitting waiting to be taken in at the foot of the bed. With the food was a beautiful bouquet of flowers with Botha's note written next to it. Sarah smiled as she smelled the flowers. "A true gentlemen no doubt."

Needing a shower desperately, she undressed herself and walked into the bathroom taking a long shower under steaming hot water that seemed to rid herself of all the grim that had built up since that night in Italy. "God!" She said as she shampooed her hair. "Has it really been that long? God Sarah, no wonder you've been in such a lousy mood lately." Finally after an hour long bathing cycle, the former Lady Protector stepped out and putting on a fluffy cotton robe went back out to the main room of the cottage, poured herself a cup of tea and rested her head against the pillows. It was like sinking into heaven and Sarah was asleep before she knew it.

The girl awoke a couple of hours later before the manservant had arrived to take her to see His Excellency. Quickly, she dressed, and luckily, Annetjie and herself, shared about the same body structure, though Van Matteus was just a bit taller, but Sarah was a bit more muscular, so perhaps they canceled each other out. Finally dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white blouse, she waited for the servant to take her to the audience, with a man who for so long she had admired, a man that so few in the world had seen, and her opportunity was nearing.

- - -

As the two figures walked along the path towards the main farmhouse, the large African security man briefed Sarah Tintagyl over some protocol.

“Afrikaner society is very stratified, so out of deference to him, refer to him as Meneer Staatspresident or Your Excellency. He will probably refer to you as mejuffrou but when he stops using that term – which means ‘miss’ in Afrikaans – then you can just call him Staatspresident unless he says otherwise. If you use his name, always put some sort of title in front of it or even just Meneer (mister). Basically, as he permits formalities to lessen between you, you may reflect that as well.”

“Also…” and the security man let go of Sarah’s hand at that point, “do not touch him, unless he does so first. He is a very private man and does not like to make physical contact.”

Unbeknownst to Sarah, the security guard also did not want to be seen holding the hand of a white woman. Despite the fall of apartheid twenty years ago, intimate contact between the races was still uncomfortable and often looked down upon. The formal walls of segregation may have come down, but many invisible barriers still remained.

By now they were walking around the back of the house. A light breeze picked up as they approached the patio. A swimming pool, rather small in size, was located around back and they walked along a cobblestone path to get around it. In front of them was a wrought iron garden table with two chairs. On one of the chairs sat a recognizable grey-haired figure in a navy suit and wearing glasses – reading what appeared to be a newspaper. On the table was a teapot.

The amount of protocol and instructions for meeting Mr. Botha were enough to make Sarah's head spin as she walked along with the African servant towards the farm house. There was of course the necessity to call the man by a title, which she had always done with world leaders so this one wasn't new, even if she had become less formal since the dissolution of the state, however not touching him was something utterly strange to Sarah, who had always make it a point to extend her touch to anyone she was speaking to and for Botha, not even a handshake was sure to drive her up the all. Nevertheless, Sarah agreed, meeting Botha was much more important to her than not adhering to the customs of the people around her and for a woman that brought herself up on the ideas of multi-culturalism, not giving Botha the respect he deserved was out of the question.

As they approached the back of the farmhouse, the servant told her to wait as he walked forward to alert the Staatspresident of Tintagyl's arrival. In a moment, she saw him mention her forward and with a deep breath and a great stride Sarah walked across the cobblestone path towards the patio. Walking forward, the man stood up and for the first time Sarah was able to get a good look at the venerable leader, he was tall, very tall, and for Sarah who was a small girl of 5' 4", the man towered over her, but that didn't stop her from sending a beaming smile back to him.

“Wait here…” the security guard instructed Sarah when they reached around fifty feet away. He walked up to the Staatspresident, leaned and whispered something in his ear. The guard then motioned for Sarah to approach.

As she made her way towards the table, Botha stood up to greet her. She noticed his left hand was bandaged up. What then struck her was the size of the man, he stood around 6’4” tall and while not heavy in weight, he nevertheless seemed to tower over everyone by his height and sheer presence of personality. She had seen numerous photographs of Botha but they never really gave much indication of his physique.

Botha held out his hand. “Goeiedag mejuffrou Tintagyl, good afternoon!” he spoke, mispronouncing her name ‘tuhn-teh-hhrale’ as it would be said as spelt in Afrikaans. “Welcome to George Farm, this is my home when I am not in the capital. I do not get many visitors here, so this is an exceptional day...”

Botha motioned for her to sit down. He then poured out a cup of rooibos tea for her, serving it with milk and a slice of lemon. He then poured out a cup for himself and sat down.

Sarah chuckled at the pronunciation of her name. "If I may Your Excellency, 'Tin-ta-gael', otherwise I'll be chuckling our whole luncheon. But I understand perfectly with the difficulty of the name. You aren't the first and I promise you won't be the last, it's always been a pleasure going around the world and to press conferences where you can here fifty different variations of your name, though I much like the Afrikaaner sounding of it, I may have to adopt it." She watched him pour her a cup of tea and then sat down after pouring his own cup.

“Tintagyl…” Botha said, pronouncing Sarah’s name correctly. He laughed, “before we met today, the only news I had about you was through our media services. Naturally they have mangled your name, so you must accept my apologies for mangling it now. I have the same problem with my own name – even here in Transvaal you hear variations due to dialectal pronunciations.”

“I trust you had a safe journey under the circumstances?”

Sarah smiled again and chuckled. "I guess you could say it like that. Honestly since Italy everything has been extremely smooth for me, but if you go back further, since the Fall of the Hansa, my life has been one big adventure after another, its nice to just relax again for once. But at the moment, things have been very enjoyable. Though." She smiled. " Your helicopter." Sarah put her hand up and shook her head. "I don't know how you can fly in that thing comfortably, maybe its just my fear of flying, but good God was I scared, though its something I'll never forget I can assure you." She sighed. "Though I have to thank you, you and Annetjie both for allowing me this opportunity. I've wanted to come to Transvaal for a long time, a very long time and the country is more spectacular than I would have ever imagined."

“That old bird is the best in Nordic technology built to last. I acquired it during a visit to Deutschland a long, long time ago when Transvaal was just standing on its own feet – so you must excuse me for being sentimental towards it. It has never failed me yet, and as we Afrikaners have learnt over the years, we cannot turn our backs on those who have proven their reliability, loyalty, and dependability.”

“This pleases me to hear these most kind words.” Botha then laughed again, “Ah yes, our dear prime minister, she is certainly something else. I am glad to see her working so hard. She had a legacy of political baggage which I thought might have brought her down, but she seems to have been remarkable beyond anyone’s expectations – myself included. I just hope for her sake she can maintain herself and not fall back into her own selfish ways.”

“So, the famous Sarah Tintagyl… here in Transvaal. I have to admit that we keep our heads buried in the sands of Southern Africa, but from what I gather you have had quite an interesting life. Imagine that, here we are… having a quiet cup of tea, while in other times the world would be trembling from our words and actions, what do you make of that?”

Sarah could sense that Botha was trying to put them on a level footing, lest the young woman be unnecessarally intimidated by the Old Man.

Sarah smiled and bowed her head to the ground. "You do me too much honor Your Excellency, I have been trying to shrink back away from fame, though it is a bit hard considering what has been going on in the former territories of the Hansa." She sighed. "I'm known more as a witch today than as a leader, but such is the life of one that travels with the wind. Things will get better for those people, I have a great suspicion that the wheels somewhere in the world are already turning to make that land great once again." The girl looked back up at Botha and nodded her head. "But as to an interesting life, yes, I think God like to mess around with me. But to be perfectly honest Your Excellency, everything that transpired in the past ten years or so. I never wanted for any of this to happen."

"Honestly, I wanted to be a school teacher, but well my father had other plans for my life and after ten years of surviving a nuclear blast, two biological bombings, three wars, and building an Empire that I do hope that the world will not soon forget I find myself here after becoming a commando in the service of Empress Nadine Peacecraft." Sarah sighed. "I think that for just being someone in their early thirties, I've lived quite the life. But as to the world trembling, I would rather it tremble by someone else's words. If I have learned one thing on this journey Your Excellency that the majority of this world is extremely stupid. They want to be ruled by overlords and imperialists, and I guess I can't call names because I myself was an imperialist." She sighed again. "I guess that's why I left, the world has confused me to the point that I'm nothing more than a lost child. Perhaps its immature running away from responsibility and power. But such is the way of the world. I have gone West have have no intention of returning to the East. My life as a leader is hopefully over."

After listening to her incredible and interesting story, Botha remarked “Well, we often cannot choose the course which Fate dictates for us.”

“Three years ago, or thereabouts, when I stood up to Nelson Mandela and proclaimed my people’s independence from his corrupt, rogue regime, little did I even know that one day I would be responsible for the lives of everyone residing in Southern Africa. Very few people – except perhaps for Emperor Mudd of Tahoe – gave Transvaal much chance of survival considering we lived in the military and political shadow of two other rival powers in South Africa – namely, ANC ruled South Africa under Nelson Mandela and the Boer Staat under High Chancellor Hendrik von Kruger. Yet here we are today, drinking our tea on this most pleasant day within earshot of the birds here singing in the trees – yet Boer Staat and ANC South Africa have been long dead and buried. Strange how fate works sometimes - isn't it?”

Botha then changed directions… “But enough about the past…”

He poured out more tea for Sarah Tintagyl and then asked. “So, do you ever see yourself reclaiming your former glory in Australia?”

Sarah smiled at his question.

"Not by my hand no, but there are forces that are at work in this world and I do not believe that that saga of the Hanseatic Commonwealth is over just yet. You see Your Excellency, I have been around the world for a long time, and of all the nations, Nordland, Transvaal, Promised Land, these nations are a constant, along with the Hansa. They say that it is because the leaders are constant, you, Martens, Subtleknifewielder, but..." Sarah placed her hand on the table and undid a small ring from her hand, on the ring was a beautiful silver feather outlined in gold. "This is the ring of the Lady Protector, along with this, there was also a locket of the same image. The ring is to represent the past and what the country was, order, stability, peace. The locket is to represent the future, influence, power, glory." She opened the top of her shirt to show that her neck was bare. "Someone has this locket and I have been paying close attention to her and her travels have lead her into the pits of Hell themselves. I do not know if she is alive or dead at this point, but until that locket is once again in my hands, then no, the Hansa will not rise again by my hands."

"However Your Excellency, I can assure you this, it will return and it will be a voice of peace yet again for the world and perhaps I will watch as the great leaders and myths of the past to see my people grow and prosper again. From, oh so far away. In fact, it was one of the questions that I thought of proposing for you myself. You have a beautiful country here Your Excellency, one that I believe I could rest my head in. Would the Staatspresident of Transvaal be in the least bit upset if the former Lady Protector and her family were to settle in his country permanently so that I might be able to focus on my memoirs and my future as, perhaps someone a bit more reserved from the struggles of world politics?"

“By all means you are welcome to take up residence here in Transvaal…”

Botha then looked intensely at Sarah Tintagyl. The conspiratorial expression in his eyes now made her realize where he got his nickname of Big Crocodile. He then smiled…

“…but what if I told you there was a way you could regain a silver of Australian territory and remain under my protection?”

Sarah looked at him curiously. "Well I would be interested, you I must tell you that I am quite a woman of my own free-will so I would hope there wouldn't be many strings to this deal. But yes, go on, I am listening to you. Quite curious indeed."

Botha then sat back in his chair.

"The Cocos Keeling Islands in the Eastern Indian Ocean. Australian territory before the Great Scramble for claims which resulted in them ending up under Franzharian rule. We acquired them in September 2008 when the Franzharian Empire collapsed and subsequently transfered them to Transvaal."

"Apart from a radio station and transmiter located on one of the islands which we use to monitor ship traffic in that part of the Indian Ocean - and radio to our allies such as Tahoe and Arctica - we have basically left them alone. I realise that they are fairly remote from civilisation, but you are welcome to set yourself up there. We could make you an automonous province of Transvaal so you would be under our military protection - but free to do otherwise what you want, such as re-direct the radio broadcasting transmiter towards Australia and broadcast propaganda and such..."

"Each week the military flies mail runs out to our remaining Indian Ocean islands, so you would have a means to get supplies as well as get to and from the Republic mainland should the need arise."

Sarah's eyes fluttered open in absolute shock. "Your Excellency, I...I...I would be honored. This, this is one of the nicest thing someone has ever done for me." She couldn't help herself as she jumped forward across the table and embraced him like a little girl would do to her grandfather. "I am eternally in your debt, honestly, I have a place to retire and can still watch the world, it would be perfect." The former Lady Protector looked up into the man's eyes as her's twinkled in the sunlight. "There must be some way that I can repay you for such a gift, there must be something that I could do for you. To be able to see my homeland from the distance again, it would be a true blessing." She hugged him tighter and buried her head into his heart. "Thank you Your Excellency, thank you so much."

Botha looked rather uncomfortable as Sarah hugged him, but he could tell that she was ecstatic with his offer so he let her do so. He discretely waved off two guards which has been watching from afar but suddenly moved towards the meeting area when they saw Sarah make contact with the Staatspresident.

“Okay, okay… enough…” he laughed. After Sarah backed off, he continued:

“I realize the islands aren’t much but some atolls with palm trees and such, but in theory you would back in Australia technically so to speak. All I ask is if you ever find that you no longer require their usage, then please kindly relinquish them back to my government. Also, please do not hinder the military use of the radio station.”

Botha then motioned for one of his security to bring some paper and a pen. He began to scribble up a hasty proclamation. He then handed the sheet of paper back to the guard, and instructed “Please forward this to Pretoria and make sure it is made public through the prime minister’s office and foreign minister.”

Botha then sat back in his chair.

“Well, Miss Tintagyl, I have just proclaimed the establishment of the Autonomous Province of Nieu-Hansa as part of the Republic of Transvaal and appointed you the provincial governor.”

Sarah let go of the Staatspresident nervously. "I'm sorry, they told me that I shouldn't touch you and for that I apologize. I just get carried away sometimes." She said pushing the hair out of her eyes. "But as to what you told me to do, I promise, though I plan then to retire on the atolls so I doubt that until I die there would be any need for the reinstatement. They of course will follow Transvaaler law, Transvaaler doctrine, but it will be nice to be in the sun once and for all and to be able to relax. As to the military radio." Sarah laughed. "You'll probably find it with dust on and about it. Other people can handle propaganda, it is not for me to do. But after this meeting here, if I would be able to get a plane to take me to Nieu-Hansa, I would be most appreciated, there are many family things I will have to take care of once I arrive."

"I can finally be a mother of two and a wife of one without having to worry about the destruction of this god-awful world of ours."

"Why, of course! Arrangements will be made. Is there anything else you wish to discuss - or shall you be on your way now?"

Sarah sighed as she looked back up at the Staatspresident. "I feel like we've only just met and yet there are so many questions for me to ask you but I'm not quite sure where I can even begin. The mere fact that I can be close to my homeland, my adopted homeland again is more than I could ever have asked for and I have you to thank for that Your Excellency. I sincerely hope that I can bring as much prosperity to my little island as you have done to Transvaal here. Ever since I was a little girl, I admired this country, sure I detested some of its policies, some of its leaders, but something always drew me towards Transvaal. It is a fitting end to my story and for that I am eternally in your debt." Sarah rose from the table. "Yes, I would love to see the islands as soon as possible, but I sincerely hope that I will be able to be just as part of daily Transvaaler government as you and Annetjie are. My new adopted country and my new adopted father, it will be a story that I hope to write very soon."

Staatspresident Botha embraced Sarah and then showed her to the door.

“No doubt mejuffrou we shall meet again many times, I wish you godspeed on your journey. I hope Nieu-Hansa is everything you want it to be. And as one of our provincial governors, of course you are free to attend executive government meetings whenever you may find yourself in Pretoria.”

Sarah was then led by Botha’s security to the waiting helicopter as the staatspresident watched from his doorstep. ‘An intriguing young woman she is, I do believe Annetjie may have found her match’ he thought to himself as he looked upwards at the twin-rotor helicopter now airborne.

In a few hours Sarah would find herself in Johannesburg to board a B-1 Lansier bomber which would then drop her off during its mail-run to Transvaal’s most eastern and isolated location of its so-called ‘empire’. =December 1 Election= The current term for Eersteminister [Prime Minister] expires on November 30, 2009.

His Excellency, the head-of-state Staatspresident Botha has therefore called for a National Election to determine the next Prime Minister of the Republic of Transvaal.

TERMS OF OFFICE: December 1st 2009 to April 30th 2010

The office of Prime Minister is open to any party candidate of the white Afrikaner race. All citizens of the Republic of Transvaal regardless of race residing in the Republic may vote for Prime Minister.

THE CANDIDATES

Annetjie VAN MATTEUS (National Party – incumbent) In office since April 30, 2009 and former prime minister in office in May-June 2007. Deposed by military coup in 2007 after publicly executing one of her ministers on television. Later tried for alleged treasonous involvement during the GOONS war but acquitted by the courts. Regarded to be a neo-fascist outside of the unabashed racist groups like Verwoerd Front but generally supports the current republic format and has adopted a more conciliatory, moderate approach during her current term in office. She resigned from the National Party after H Strijdom became prime minister in October 2008 and later formed the Martens Party of Transvaal as a far-right opposition group alternate to the Verwoerd Front. After the invasion of Transvaal during the Karma War, she dissolved the Martens Party and reconciled her differences with H Strijdom when she rejoined the National Party and with whom she conspired to force the RMG to resign and restore civilian rule. Subsequently appointed prime minister by Field Marshal P Malan when the Republican Military Government resigned and returned to their barracks. She managed Transvaal’s atomic bomb programme during Strijdom's government and successfully detonated the nation’s first atomic weapon on Bouvet Island.

Hendrik STRIJDOM (National Party) held governor posts in Namibia and Transvaler Suid-Amerika previous to being named prime minister after JM Hertzog’s resignation. Prime Minister of Transvaal from October 2008 until February 2009. Responsible for negotiating an end to the war in Paraguay and Transvaal's withdrawl from South America. During his term as prime minister Strijdom expanded the Seemag [Navy], increased government spending in the civilian sector, created an National Earth Day to help improve awareness to the nation’s environment, clamped down on radicals both leftist and rightist, and developed Transvaal’s nuclear weapons programme. Became Foreign Minister during the Republican Military Government and co-Deputy Prime Minister in Van Matteus’ government. As foreign minister he recently successfully negotiated a lease for a territorial enclave in Italian Somalia from Repubblica Italiana for construction of Transvaal’s future foreign airbase.

Jakob Martin HERTZOG (National Party) – former prime minister of Transvaal, the longest serving prime minister in the nation’s history, governed over two successive terms from November 2007 until his resignation on October 2008 and then briefly again from February to April 2009 when his government then collapsed during the Karma War. During his three terms in office, Transvaal’s population tripled in size and he successfully managed the painful economic transformation from Maroon to the Orange trading sphere. Due to his difficulty speaking English, foreign policy has generally a critical, weak aspect of his rule and he took the fall for leading the nation into a disastrous colonial adventure in South America. During his time in office he built 4 labour camps, legalized the Nederduits Gereformeerde Kerk (Dutch Reformed Church), re-annexed Cherokee Namibia, withdrew from Angola (later re-annexed), joined the Pan-African Coalition, constructed the Transvaler Seemag and began technology deals with Franzharia. His government handed out R$20.5 million in foreign aid while receiving R$9 million in return. During the Republican Military Government, he led the opposition faction within the National party in alliance with the DBP. His legacy and political position is reflected by Transvaal’s period spent in Orange and IRON and is opposed the nation’s re-affiliation with Nordreich. He is viewed as leading the so-called left-progressive wing of the National Party favouring more political involvement of Transvaal’s non-white citizens.

Marthinus HOFMEYR (National Party) Minister of Finance, Trade & Education. Advocates government spending to increase the technology level in Transvaal and was responsible for carrying out most of Transvaal’s post-war reconstruction. Not much is known about his politics and is viewed as middle of the road and un-ambitious compared to Strijdom and Annetjie van Matteus.

Frederik GELDENHUYS (Demokratiese Barakke Party) Leader of the Democratic Drillhall Party which admires Field Marshal Cruywagen and favours the involvement of progressive elements within the Transvaler military to participate in running the government so as to remove the threat of white supremacists in Transvaler society. Since the end of the Republican Military Government, the DBP has lost influence as the Verwoerd Front fizzled out and many civilians opposed the re-involvement of the military in domestic politics regardless of ideology.

Field Marshal Petrus MALAN (independent) - Former junta leader of the Republican Military Government which governed the nation during the Karma War and post-war reconstruction period. His legacy is the adoption of a controversial immigration law (which consequently has never been repealed) to inflate the number of white citizens in Transvaal by limiting immigration to whites and promoting birth control amongst African citizens. He voluntarily resigned as leader of the RMG which returned the nation to full civilian rule at the end of April. Malan is currently Ambassador to Repubblica Italianaand is running for office to vindicate his name.

NOVEMBER 4, 2009

JOHANNESBURG FREE PRESS: A year ago it would have been considered unthinkable (and, more so, laughable) that Annetjie van Matteus would be leading the polls in a national election – let alone prime minister again.

But the social and political landscape has changed considerably in Transvaal during that time. Like many nations around the world, the Karma War had cataclysmic effects over Transvaal which impacted the nation and its people to the very core.

A year ago, the progressivist policies and leadership of Jakob Hertzog were firmly entrenched in the Federal Republic while Afrikaner nationalist sensitivities were being courted by an assortment of white supremacist groups promising protection an deliverance from the African hordes. There was a polarisation between those who saw Transvaal’s liberation through IRON while others saw the so-called Orange Republic a whitewash of its past. And at that time Ms. Van Matteus was derided as nothing more than a spent crackpot whose political worth was a few notches about zero.

The surrender of Transvaal and the post-war reconstruction period wiped all that away like a house of cards. A brutal military regime cleansed the nation of its complacency in the world – and, some say, of its thorny and delicate problem of justifying white minority rule in the country.

Today Transvaal has reclaimed its spot as a major regional power in Africa – but the picture on the canvas is very different and unrecognisable. Afrikaners and English are no longer outnumbered in Transvaal – yet Black Africans are not suffering the effects of their new minority status as previous Afrikaner fears of the black menace have crumbled now that the whites relish their safety in numbers. Once perceived as a neo-fascist bent on curb-stomping the masses into the pavement, Prime Minister van Matteus’ government has given Transvaal its most enlightened and vibrant period of growth and social reform.

Granted political power remains a pipe dream for Black Africans, but their involvement in the national infrastructure and the massive growth of a Black middle class has given them an economic clout and lifestyle never before experienced during even the best days of the old Federal Republic.

“With hindsight the Federal Republic can be viewed as nothing more than a broken-down front to placate uneasiness with the international community over our treatment of Black Africans” commented Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus during one government speech, “while the post-war Republic has been able to both surmount white fears of their survival in Southern Africa and build real economic value and worth to all citizens black, coloured, or white. The fact that the Federal Republic crumbled so fast shows its real nature, that it has no foundation.”

“No so...” claims her most vocal critic Jakob Herztog, who says that the Federal Republic ‘showed the world that Transvaal genuinely had the aspirations of everyone at heart. My government would listen to its people and the world, but not so with Van Matteus. She will only listen to you when it suits her and if you agree with her. She rules through bread and circuses, by buying off the passivity of our non-white citizens.”

NOVEMBER 5, 2009

Staatspresident Botha sat down in his private study to relax with his cup of rooibos tea.

‘Hmm, let’s see what crap is on television tonight…’ he thought to himself as he turned his television set on. He banged the side of the set a few times angrily, ''‘Ach, no cable! Why do they always forget to pay my cable bill…!’''

No cable meant he would have to rig up some rabbit ears to tune in.

But worse... no cable also meant he would be stuck watching the blandness of Tele-Transvaal 1 or Tele-Transvaal 2. Transvaal might be one of the most advanced nations in Africa but its television broadcasts and movie industry were not.

‘Goddamn, it’s that Lukas Reitz clown on the news again…’ Botha said has he switched on TTV1. He quickly changed the dial to TTV2 before the incessant accordion music blaring from Oom Paul’s Old Time Country Farm Dance forced Botha to return to TTV1. The only people who ever watched Oom Paul were 80-year-old Afrikaner plattelander grandmothers and labour camp prisoners – although in the latter case it was more a matter of torture – and not out of choice.

''“Oh well then, let’s see what Lukas Reitz has to say about himself today. I can’t believe that Annetjie van Matteus hasn’t had him shot yet…”'' Botha blurted out.

Mrs. Botha could be heard asking from the kitchen, “What was that dear?” before returning to her baking.

''“Oh look! They’re talking about the national election; let’s see what they all have to say…”''



A grey, drab voice droned on over the drab lifeless logo of Tele-Transvaal. In the background was played a muted version of Transvaal anthem:

- - -

''AN EXPLANATION OF FEDERAL ELECTIONS IN TRANVSAAL... brought to you by TELE-TRANSVAAL''

National Elections in Transvaal are carried out under election governance by the authority of the Staatsregeringministrie van Nasionaalverkiesing (Department of National Elections).

For any National Election to be valid, a minimum of 40 electoral districts in the National Assembly must be decided.

If an election does not receive the minimum votes to make it valid, a run-off election between the two candidates with the most district votes is then called to take place two weeks after the original election.

The political party receiving the greatest number of votes cast for all candidates is elected to office; the candidate within that party is appointed the prime minister.

If a prime minister holds a minority of votes within his party, he must rule through a coalition within his party. If that coalition collapses, the governing party must find another prime minister from within its ranks.

Any candidate who gains a majority of electoral district votes within his party would not require a governing coalition - and any candidate who gains an overall majority of electoral districts in the entire election is deemed to have an "absolute majority" and can essentially rule unhindered by any sort of 'checks and balances' from within the government or from his party.

- - -

Then the drab image, music, and station logo disappeared to reveal a grinning close-up of Transvaal’s only newsbroadcaster: Lukas Reitz. Intro music then blared again:

ALL-CANDIDATES MEETING brought to you by TELE-TRANSVAAL

VERKIESING DESEMBER '09 - ELECTION DECEMBER '09

Goeienaand, good evening everyone, welcome! Lukas Reitz here from Afrikaans Daaglikse Tele-Nuus and its English-language equivalent Daily TV News.

My name is Lukas Reitz and I will be your host tonight for this, the National Election all-candidates town hall meeting for Prime Minister of the Republic of Transvaal.

Assembled with us we have invited numerous, respected members of the foreign and local press who will be fielding questions to the candidates. When presenting their questions, I request you give your name and news bureau you are assigned to. To assist me to maintain some semblance of order here, please ask one question at a time and state whom you are addressing it to.

So... now without further delay, I would like to introduce to you the candidates for the office of Prime Minister of the Republic of Transvaal. Here, starting on my left, we have the attractive and very lovely Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus (National Party – incumbent); Foreign Minister Hendrik Strijdom (National Party), former prime minister and now one of the co-deputy prime ministers; Mr. Jakob Martin Herztog (National Party), former prime minister; Minister Marthinus Hofmeyr (National Party) Minister of Finance, Trade & Education; Mr. Frederik Geldenhuys, leader of the opposition Demokratiese Barakke Party; and respelendent in his military uniform, Field Marshal Petrus Malan, Commanding Officer of the Transvaler Raketkorps, who is standing as an independent candidate.

Reitz then took centre-stage on the screen, saying “…and I, Lukas Reitz, will be your host - and as your host, I now open the floor to questions from our foreign visiting media” giving an expansive wave towards the visiting reporters sitting in the crowd.

GUY IN THE BACK, PROBABLY FREELANCE REPORTER: "Ms. Van Matteus, you are known to many around the world as a dictator, racist, terrorist, tyrant, and war criminal; your forced expulsion of practitioners of arbitrarily ‘foreign’ religions has been described by many in the international community as ethnic cleansing, several high-profile executions you ordered in the past have been called murder, and you were implicated in international terrorist activities following your first administration – how do you cope with being one of the most controversial figures in the history of mankind?”

Prime Minister van Matteus straightened herself up in her chair before replying to the guy in the back who was probably a free-lance reporter.

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she thought to herself, ‘in the past I would have had this miserable twerp disappear into the darkness of night, but unfortunately I cannot do that right now…’

Van Matteus took a sip of water before giving her answer.

“Everyone makes mistakes and my mistakes were made a long time ago. Some of those ‘mistakes’ which you so eloquently point out were the result of having to make split-second decisions under fire. I did what I felt was right at the time. But that is all in the past, I am asking Transvaler voters to look at what I have done the past few months since talking office and pass judgment on that when they cast their ballots.”

“So in response to your accusations, I ask: Have I been a dictator since July 30? Have I been a racist? ...a tyrant? …have I executed anyone or done any of these things which you use to drag my name through dirt… since July 30? My answer to you is ‘no’. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

STATEMENT BY PRESIDENT NED OF NEDLAND: "With luck, Geldenhuys' election will overturn the National Party's continued dominance of Transvaal."

LUKAS REITZ [TELE-TRANSVAAL NUUS]: “It would take a miracle for the DBP to break the National Party’s grip on Pretoria and actually win the election. The surprising success so far by Field Marshal Malan may be siphoning votes from the National Party but Geldenhuys would probably require an alliance with Malan to gain enough district seats in the Volksraad to unseat the National party – an alliance which has zero chance of occurring since Malan and Geldenhuys are political polar opposites.”

JOHANNESBURG FREE PRESS: “In case our naïve foreign observers haven’t noticed yet, the current electoral system was designed to maintain National Party dominance all the while providing the appearances of democracy. For a non-NP to win any election, they would need to gain an outright majority of votes – which has so far been impossible due to the excess of National Party candidates which splits the popular overall votes – while a National Party candidate just needs to gain the most votes within their own Party votes – because going up against outside party opposition, they would then be elected on the combined totals of all-NP votes cast.”

NOVEMBER 19, 2009

RADIO-TRANSVAAL: The Staatsregeringministrie van Nasionaalverkiesing (Department of National Elections) confirmed today that the current Republic election has reached the all-important 40 district votes threshold to validate the election and prevent a run-off.

At last count, the National Party looked to be in a comfortable lead with 25 districts to be sent to Volksraad while the opposition controls a total of 15 districts - with a third of the overall national vote backing Prime Minister van Matteus in what has been the culmination of an incredible political come-back for her. Six months ago no one in Transvaal nor overseas could envisage Van Matteus as being even remotely electable.

DECEMBER 1, 2009

VAN MATTEUS WINS ELECTION

TRANSVALER DAAGLIKSE NUUS: At one time considered unelectable, Annetjie van Matteus claimed victory in the fifth national election held in Transvaal since independence.

A total of fifty representatives have been elected to the 5th Volksraad with 27 of them from the victorious National Party. Not counting the 4th Volksraad which consisted entirely of appointed members of the Republican Military Government, the 5th Volksraad had the largest voter turnout in Transvaler history.

Ms. van Matteus polled an impressive 34% of the overall national vote although early poll returns had her pulling in as much as 45% of the popular vote at one point, before the Demokratiese Barakke Party began to make a concentrated late surge.

Also interesting was the strong showing by independent candidate Field Marshal Malan, whose legacy as the controversial former RMG junta leader was expected to condemn him to utter defeat instead of the sizable 8 districts which swung their support towards him.

SUMMARY OF PREVIOUS ELECTION RESULTS

1st Volkraad - August 27, 2007 (43 electoral districts)
 * P Cruywagen elected
 * National Party 22 districts
 * Boers-Volkstaat Party 21 districts

2nd Volksraad - May 1, 2008 (42 electoral districts)
 * JM Herztog elected
 * National Party 30 districts
 * Verwoerd Front 12 districts

3rd Volksraad - December 1, 2008 (45 electoral districts)
 * H Strijdom elected
 * National Party 23 districts
 * Demokratiese Barakke Party 9 districts
 * Transvaler Martense Party 6 districts
 * Verwoerd Front 1 district
 * 6 districts vacant

4th Volksraad - May 30, 2009 (58 electoral districts)
 * P Malan elected
 * Republican Military Government 58 districts (all uncontested)

5th Volksraad - December 1, 2009 (50 electoral districts)
 * A van Matteus elected
 * National Party 27 districts
 * Demokratiese Barakke Party 12 districts
 * P Malan (independent candidate) 8 districts
 * 3 districts vacant

Van Matteus' visit to Arctica
NOVEMBER 10-26, 2009

Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus has stated that she would like to make a brief visit to Arctica to meet with Sovereign Vedran: "Despite the chronic ideological rift between our governments, the Republic of Transvaal values Arctica as our closest regional partner. In the past, Arctican media has spoken out in support of the DBP - but now as head of my government and current National Party leader, I wish to hear what can be done if possible to eliminate differences between our two nations..."

RESPONSE FROM VEDRAN OF ARCTICA: "I am willing to meet with Prime Minister Van Matteus in the hopes of smoothing relations between our two nations."

A message was soon sent to her office: "The Sovereign can certainly make time in his schedule for a visiting foreign head of government. Please have the Prime Minister land at Oceana International Airport at her earliest convenience, and she will be escorted to the Central Government Building."

Due to the sudden nature of the visit, Prime Minister Annetjie van Matteus decided to use military transportation to travel to Arctica. It would also prove to be a subtle means to delicately flex Transvaal’s muscles and remind its closest neighbour who was boss in Southern Africa.

As the lone B-1 Lansier bomber cruised over the Mozambique Channel, the prime minister took stock of the upcoming impromptu meeting. Van Matteus knew that the Arcticans did not like her. However she also knew that for an assortment of reasons, the Staatspresident valued peaceful and close diplomatic relations with the island nation located off the Republic’s coast. As the Staatspresident once told her, besides the obvious strategic reasons of defense, maintaining the goodwill of Arctica was a means to gauge international opinion on Transvaler domestic and foreign policies. “If the Arcticans are silent, then all is well for us” he once told her.

The aircraft now began its long decent over the water into Oceana International Airport.

Given the quick nature of the meeting, the Arcticans did not prepare a full welcome with all the ceremony that came with it. Instead, Van Matteus was greeted by only a black sedan at the airport, with one man holding a back passenger door open for her and one in the driver's seat.

"Welcome to Arctica, Prime Minister," he said as she got in, closed her door and got in the front passenger seat. The car immediately pulled away and began its drive from the airport. The view had barely changed since Malan last visited, except that it was spring now.

They stopped briefly at a heavily-guarded checkpoint on the mainland side of the bridge from the mainland to Vecanti Island, where the Central Government Building was located. They soon continued, covering the uncrowded span of the bridge quickly. After another checkpoint, Van Matteus became the second Transvaler to see the island itself personally. Soon, the car pulled in front of the 88-storey-high CGB.

Covering the same route Malan had months ago, Van Matteus was led up to the 60th floor and to Vedran's office. The decorations had been moved around a little, but otherwise everything was unchanged. The men who had driven Van Matteus left her in the office with Vedran and the two men at either side of the door. Vedran stood from his desk and shook Annetjie's hand.

"Prime Minister, it is good to finally meet you. Welcome to Arctica. Please, have a seat."

Vedran sat down again. "You wish to speak with me?"

“Thank you Soveriegn for meeting with me on such short notice.” Vedran could notice a tinge of anxiety in her voice.

“I understand that your government, your people, and your media have never warmed up to me. This is understandable due to some events which happened long ago. I come to you now to find out where my government would be able to find some common ground so that there can be better understanding between our nations.”

The meeting was strange, surreal almost. Vedran could not quite make out whether Van Matteus was trying to browbeat him through diplomatic means or if she was pleading with him.

“Sir, I suppose what I want to know is what exactly are yours and the Arcticans' issues with me?”

"With you?" Vedran leaned back in his chair. "Well, Arctica has historically been a liberal nation, and Transvaal not so much. The people are simply opposed to most of your party's policies, along with your reputation. As long as you are in a position of power, they will never be quite content with your government.

Not that that means our governments cannot maintain the relations we have kept for years. Regardless of who has been in power, Transvaal has been the one country that I can always rely on to stay consistent in its policies and one of the few that can be trusted to honor its agreements.

As head of state, I have no problem with you unless our governments have a problem, which I trust will not occur after years of peaceful coexistence."

Vedran noticed a sense of relief cross Van Matteus’ face.

“Excuse me, it was my misunderstanding that your government had issues with me personally – and not so much the National Party in general.”

“I realize that I do carry a lot of political baggage on my shoulders but I just ask you to judge me and my government on what I have accomplished since the end of military rule” Van Matteus quietly asked the Arctican leader, although the acute Vedran could not quite tell for sure if she was sincere or not with her words. The Transvaler prime minister had all the appearances and mannerism of someone who had the genuine welfare of her nation at heart – but something about Van Matteus still gave him the creeps.

“Our state… and I say state, because this transcends purely the government level and who may be in power at the moment… our state has always valued Arctica as our closest ally in Africa. Staatspresident Botha has always insisted that, despite any issues which may arise between our two nations, the Republican government is to strive towards maintaining as amicable relations with you and your people as possible. While we may be very close with Tahoe, Repubblica Italania, and even the Nordlanders on a cultural and ideological level, on a strategic and mutual security level Arctica is our most important partner. I think I am not wrong in saying that we have both realized that over time our two nations have watched each others backs on regional issues – not that there are many hot conflicts in Africa anymore.”

Van Matteus’ calm, praising words and icy smile struck Vedran as if she was trying to size him up or calculate how much lee-way she would have with the Arcticans ‘should’ problems arise.

Vedran watched as she praised his country, those blue eyes looking into hers as he took on a thoughtful expression. She was acting like a changed woman, but he didn't buy it. It had not been too long since she had shot a minister on television, since she had attempted to bribe an Arctican diplomat and ordered the beatings of prisoners. Van Matteus did what she needed to do to get ahead. Whether that meant making nice with people or having them roughed up, Vedran had a feeling that anything she did had her own interests in mind above all. People like that were dangerous. He could not simply forget about her 'baggage' as if she was a new person simply because she got reelected.

"Yes, our two states are integral to each other's security and to regional security. You helped us when we needed it, and we would do the same for Transvaal if there was a genuine threat to security. We had not intervened in your recent wars because it is a nation's right to defend itself without outside help. Should Transvaal require support to protect its people from foreign aggressors, you can find an ally in Arctica."

After the Arctican sovereign finished, Anntejie van Matteus sat there and was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, she dropped a bombshell:

“I believe that is what Staatspresident Botha wishes to discuss…with you… when he comes here to visit…”

Vedran tilted his head a little, his eyes narrowing a tiny amount in curiosity, showing some of the suspicion he was feeling. He had never heard of Botha leaving the country, and he had only met the man once. Not only that, but the Staatspresident rarely involved himself in the events in Transvaal unless something important was happening. It would have to be an urgent issue for him to visit Arctica to meet with the Sovereign.

When he spoke, it was softly and slowly, as if he was fully focused upon trying to read Van Matteus and her intentions, almost as if some great secret was to be divulged, even though two guards were the only other people in the room. "Yes? Please, go on..."

Annetjie van Matteus tried to recount the exact instructions which the Staatspresident had given her.

True enough she had made the trip initially on her on accord, to shore up Arctican opinion about her and her government in the upcoming election – however when Staatspresident Botha caught wind of her sudden and hastily planned visit to Arctica, he decided then and there was the time to finally bring up with the Arctican Sovereign something which has been on his mind for some time… at least since the end of the war.

“Staatspresident Botha has instructed me to convey to you his personal greetings and well-wishes to the Arctican people and their great Sovereign”. Van Matteus’ tone of voice sounded like she was reciting memorized lines from a script. “He would also like to meet with you to discuss strategic security for Southern Africa… but more specifically…” at which point, Van Matteus glanced around the room to make sure no one was overhearing, “…err, contingency plans in the event of future invasions of our Republic.”

Then in a more natural voice, added as an after-thought, perhaps a token bone to get the Sovereign’s interest locked, “I believe he is also looking to make a territorial concession or something like that, but he didn’t not divulge to me the explicit details regarding that point.”

“Anyways,” she concluded, “His Excellency is currently waiting in Johannesburg for acknowledgement, with his transport standing by to bring him to Oceana.”

Vedran nodded slowly, his mind taking in the information. When Van Matteus was finished, he slid the telephone on his desk across to her. "Very well. Make the call, if you please. I'll have a space on the airport reserved for him." He would also use Botha's flight time to organize a full reception at the airport for the Transvaler head of state.

Van Matteus reached for the telephone, grudgingly in a manner which seemed to indicate that she either did not approve or agree with Staatspresident Botha’s visit or perhaps his sudden ‘interference’ in matters of state.

After hanging up after the call, she stood up – as to signal that her part of meeting was over and was ready to depart – and said “Very well then, he shall arrive here in Oceana in a few hours.”

She shook Vedran's hand and gathered her papers and such. As she departed from the Sovereign’s office, she paused in the doorway. “It must be important for him to come here, apart from his exile during the Boer Staat crisis almost three years ago, I cannot recall the last time he went overseas. Probably the Pan-African Summit a year and a half ago…” Van Matteus shrugged, then thanked Vedran again for meeting with her before leaving.

=A Meeting of Generals in the Kalahari= NOVEMBER 5-17, 2009

The radio blared over a crackly AM station “…and in recent polls, Prime Minister van Matteus has been hovering around the 45% level of overall support amongst voters, which if the election were called today would give her an almost absolute and unprecedented grip on the National Party and government - while just as surprisingly the former junta dictator Marshal Malan has unexpectedly gained around 20% in recent polls…”

The lieutenant colonel switched the radio off. The roar of a jet engine passed overhead, and once its rumble had dampened, Dietrichs Gerhard then spoke to the rest of the officers which were seated in his situational tent located out on the edge of the Kalahari in Botswana where Lugmag fighter jets were carrying out practice manoevres.

“Gentlemen, this level of support for Marshal Malan is beyond any of our expectations. I strongly believe that given this, we should urge Marshal Malan to utilise his political weight in the future government to dictate changes to the military high command. Namely the removal of Marshal Cruywagen and Flight Commander Wise. Unless van Matteus secures 50% of the electoral district vote in the Volksraad, she will require the support of others to keep her in power. Marshal Malan will be in a position to be a deal maker – or breaker.”

Some of the officers nodded profusely in agreement while a few others were more cautious with their response. Gerhard continued:

“The military rebuilt this Republic and we must now demand our rightful political place in the government, while the opportunity is ripe.”

After the discussion had carried on throughout the night, as dawn approached on the Kalahari, Lieutenant-Colonel Dietrichs Gerhard summarized:

“So we are agreed then?

“Firstly, we Afrikaner military commanders will covertly oppose the election Hertzog and Geldenhuys. Should either one take power, we shall ascertain the potential feasibility of an immediate military coup or assassination.”

“Secondly, should Transvaal ever come under attack again and the government is thrown into anarchy, we shall arrest Cruywagen and Wise and then seize power to re-instate the RMG.”

“Thirdly, we shall establish a secret code phrase which I have written down and distributed to you all, which will be broadcast over state radio as an emergency signal to mobilize our group to action for a military coup against the civilian administration regardless the state of the government or leader.”

“And under no circumstances will Field Marshal Petrus Malan be made aware of our group until after the fact. We cannot rise compromising him should we be exposed, therefore his complete ignorance of our secret group is essential.”

“Agreed, gentlemen?”

Gerhard looked around the group of officers. Admiral Kruger had his doubts but decided to throw his lot in with the plotters – although, secretly he coveted the leading position in the shadow RMG for himself. Gerhard then looked at the assortment of Krygsmagte colonels and majors assembled there; all of them raised their hands in agreement. The colonel then spoke “On behalf of the airforce, as its senior Afrikaner officer, I commit the Lugmag.”

One of the Krygsmagte officers then asked “Sir, what about the Raketkorps? What if for some reason Malan does not go with us? That would leave our nuclear stockpile outside of our control…”

Gerhard brushed the question aside. “How could he not find sympathy with us?”

After the officers had been dismissed, they returned to their vehicles and made their way back to their respective units. However one of them had pangs of conscience. He had sworn an oath as a military officer to serve the nation, not become embroiled in its politics. He looked down at the piece of paper with the cryptic words “The veldt is on fire and the aardvarks are now burrowing to Pretoria”, crumpled it up, and threw it away into the brush.

After the officer corps had departed, Lieutenant-Colonel Dietrichs Gerhard walked over to the lone tent set apart from the main group deployed for manoeuvres.

“Did they buy it?” asked the voice from the shadows.

“Yes, I think they did. But we won’t know for sure until we actually go live with the plan. The army and air force are behind us, only the navy I have doubts about…” replied Gerhard.

“Bah! The Seemag is of no concern to us! There is very little they can do in response to events carried out on land.”

The voice asked hesitantly, almost in anticipation:

“And… the code phrase… what of that?”

“Yes, that has been distributed to all Afrikaner officers in command positions.

“Excellent. You have done well, now return to your duties and await the signal when events transpire to move our plan forward.

“Of course sir!” saluted the Lieutenant-Colonel.

Once Gerhard had departed, Uys de Ruijters emerged from his tent. He looked skywards at the Lugmag planes flying overhead in formation. ‘I have the Krygsmagte and Lugmag were I need them… in my grass... now to just wait for dear Annetjie’s government to inevitably unravel itself…”

De Ruijters clasped his hands in front of him as a sign of personal triumph before he made his way to his waiting jeep and departed from the base camp. =Botha's visit to Arctica=

NOVEMBER 26, 2009

Over the Mozambique Channel, a flight of three B-1 Lansier bombers flew in a loose v-formation low over the water. In the lead plane, sitting in one of the navigator positions behind the flight deck was the Staatspresident. Every few minutes he would get up and look out the front window, to view the island of Madagascar looming in the distance of their approach.

''Being that Johannesburg was southeast of Madagascar, and Oceana was in the northeast of the island, the Staatspresident would fly over most of Madagascar's countryside. When he reached Oceana and was cleared to land, he would be able to see a group of people and vehicles waiting for him.''

''When the plane landed, it was welcomed by Vedran himself, flanking him two of his guards, behind him an honor guard from the Army standing at attention, a man on one side holding the Arctican flag and the man opposite him holding the Transvaler flag. An instrumental version of Die Stem van Suid-Afrika rang through the air.''

Vedran stopped in front of the plane's boarding ramp to await Botha.

The three B-1 Lansiers came over the last set of hills on their journey. Below them the expanse of Oceana came into their view.

“Excuse me Your Excellency, but you should now buckle in for the landing” said the pilot of the lead plane.

While the pilot made preparations to land and began his final approach, the two other bombers went into a circling pattern. Once the Staatspresident’s plane had touched down, they would turn around and return to their base in the Republic.

The lumbering bomber came down slowly and gracefully before finally coming to a stop at the end of the runway. The nose turned around and it taxied towards the main terminal where Sovereign Vedran and the rest of his welcoming party were waiting patiently.

Finally the service entrance opened and a narrow set of stairs were extended so that Staatspresident Botha could disembark. Die Stem van Suid-Afrika began to play and Botha made his appearance. He briefly looked around, using his hand to shield his eyes from the bright rays before descended down to the tarmac, wearing his trademark navy blue suit capped off with a homburg to shield him from the hot Madagascar sun.

Botha walked up to Vedran. “It has been a long time, a very long time old friend. Good to see you are still doing well” the Staatspresident said, extending his hand in thanks for the welcome.

Vedran shook Botha's hand. "Indeed it has, Staatspresident. It is an honor to have you here." He smiled, turning. "Please, follow me."

As the final notes of Transvaal's national anthem played, the two leaders passed between the two rows of soldiers on either side. An officer shouted "Present arms!" and as one, the men presented their firearms. When they were no longer between the rows, the officer shouted again "Order arms!" and the men returned to attention. They would stand at attention until the limousine was out of the airport.

As the two African leaders walked towards the waiting limousine, Botha said to his Arctican counterpart “…and I thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice. Due to the delicate nature of my concerns, I felt it best if I came to you to explain…”

Vedran nodded, trying to understand the meaning behind the visit. Everything would become clear soon. When the limousine pulled out of the airport, the Sovereign looked at Botha. The only other person in the car was the driver. "So I suppose it is best to start from the beginning. What is the reason for the urgency behind your visit, Staatspresident Botha?"

Staatspresident Botha took a seat in the comfortable limosine. “There are two issues I wish to discuss with you. The first relates to the security of the Republic while the second relates to territory. I’ll begin with security… now how to explain this…?”

“As you are fully aware, in the past both of our nations have come under direct enemy attack and invasion. And in both instances our nations have faced being on the losing side and sustained major damage to our national infrastructure and cohesiveness.”

“In your nation’s instance, my government was obliged to invade and occupy much of Arctica to otherwise prevent a major loss of your territory to outside interests. After all, back in those days, Transvaal’s own national sphere of influence was actually used to buttress your own territorial claims over the whole of Madagascar.”

“Thankfully, during the Karma War when Transvaal came under attack, while we suffered a major loss of population and infrastructure devastation, we did not lose a lot of territorial sphere of influence, at least not enough that our global claim came under threat.”

Botha paused to allow Vedran to digest all he had told him so far

“However… my government, well… I suppose me… since at one point there was no government to speak of during the war, was very close to contacting you to request an Arctican occupation force be sent into the eastern portions of the Republic, so that we knew that our territorial claim remained in friendly hands until after the war and we had recovered enough to re-exercise our global territorial claim.”

Vedran could tell that Botha was uncomfortable about the topic at hand. As a rule over the years, the Transvaler government and people had maintained an almost cocky arrogance about their strength and invincibility. However the Karma War shattered that image at home and unbeknownst to the Arcticans or anyone else for that matter, the contemplation of weakness in the face of their enemies was traumatic in government circles. Therefore as guardian of his people, Botha was now making secret contingency plans just in case the same fate struck the Afrikaner homeland again in the future.

“Basically, we want to establish some secret protocols at the highest levels between our governments should we ever request and require Arctican intervention in our affairs if faced with invasion and our inevitable defeat… much like we did with the Madagaskar Vrystaat in the south of Arctica.”

Vedran could tell it was a bitter pill for Botha to swallow to say those words.

“You know that we have very close, ideological allies in the world, such as Tahoe and the Italian fascists – however they are very, very far away and Arctica is our only regional neighbour whom we can trust. The Sercans to the north of us we have never form that close of a diplomatic relationship, mostly because they share a mutual frontier with us. Do not take this the wrong way, but we have never felt threatened by Arctica – militarily nor culturally – so because of that, we feel we can trust you should our very national survival be at stake.” =Territorial retreat from the North=

Formation of Transvaal-Arctica
NOVEMBER 29, 2009

On December 1st one year ago, the last Transvaler Krygsmagte troops of the occupation force in Arctica departed from the Madagaskar Vrystaat. Arctica and Madagascar was thus once again re-united under the rule of Sovereign Vedran.

In the year which has followed, diplomatic relations between Transvaal and Arctica have strengthened despite the tragedy of war and destruction which has plagued both nations’ history.

Therefore, to show the world that two nations can live and share in mutual, neighbourly peace and goodwill despite any ideological differences we may hold between us, as of December 1, 2009, Transvaal and Arctica will maintain a joint claim/ownership of Northern Mozambique and Malawi. The territory will be called Transvaal-Arctica and Arctica-Transvaal (to be used interchangebly) and is fully part of both Transvaal and Arctica in a mutually-recognised overlapping land claim.

This almost unprecedented display of two independent nations sharing joint ownership, management, and development of territory will show the nations of the world – specifically the nuclear burnt-out wastelands known as Europe how to live in peace – instead of focusing on narrow-minded egotistical greed and expansion driving their war machines and providing their tired, haggard citizens with nothing more than another blanket of fallout on their plates.

Elections will follow in providing an autonomous local government to mutually govern the territory.

NOVEMBER 30, 2009

TRANSVAAL-ARCTICA TERRITORIAL CHARTER

''To show the world that two nations can live and share in mutual, neighbourly peace and goodwill despite any ideological differences we may hold between us, as of December 1, 2009, Transvaal and Arctica will maintain a joint claim/ownership of Northern Mozambique and Malawi. The Territory will be called Transvaal-Arctica and Arctica-Transvaal (to be used interchangeably) and is fully part of both Transvaal and Arctica in a mutually-recognised overlapping land claim.''


 * Citizenship is territorial based.
 * Arctica and Transvaal are free to maintain whatever border controls deemed necessary between their nations and the Territory.
 * Laws within the territory are based on a combination of the Arctican and Transvaler legal codes with the more lenient or liberal law taking precedence.
 * Transvaal and Arctica may each base ground troops up to 10% of the smaller nation’s military IG troop count. For example, if Transvaal has 40,250 soldiers and Arctica 20,000 solders, each nation may base up to 2,000 soldiers each within Arctica-Transvaal. In the case of one nation having 0 troops, then 10% of the other nation’s military may be permitted. This restriction also applies to tanks but not airforce nor naval units.

[signed]

Botha, State President of the Republic of Transvaal
 * FOR REPUBLIC OF TRANSVAAL

Vedran I, Sovereign of Arctica
 * FOR ARCTICA

Independence of Rhodesia
DECEMBER 2, 2009

INDEPENDENCE OF RHODESIA

By agreement between the Republic of Transvaal]] and the Provisional Authorities located in Northern Rhodesia (assigned to General Rhodes of [[Rhodesia):

1) the Republic of Transvaal hereby recognises the complete and full independence of this territorial authority, henceforth known as Rhodesia, from the Republic effective one minute after update December 3, 2009.

2) the Republic of Transvaal is hereby granted a grandfathered overlapping territorial clause (also known as the Lübeck Clause). Should said independent territory leave RP, lose or relinquish their assigned territories, nation deletion, or leave the game, Transvaal immediately regains said territory.

3) the Republic of Transvaal promises not to interfere in the internal social-political forces within Rhodesia, which likewise promises not to interfere in the internal social-politics of the Republic.

4) Due to the Botha Line Doctine in effect over Southern Africa, Rhodesia is assumed to have the political and military protection of Transvaal at the Republic’s discretion.

Signed on this day of December 2, 2009

- Botha State President of the Republic of Transvaal Government House, Pretoria

- General Rhodes Acting President of the Republic of Rhodesia

DECEMBER 3, 2009

The Government of Transvaal applaudes the decision of the Rhodesian people to strike out on their own path.

It reminds us of our very own declaration of independence almost three years ago as we said "no more" to the corrupt, roguish behavior of Nelson Mandela of South Africa. However, in this instance, our two people remain as respectful friends united by our common settler culture and history.

Thus, to futher cement the common goodwill between Transvaal and Rhodesia, Staatspresident Botha has authorised the Ministry of Finace & Trade to grant R3,000,000 in foreign aid to help assist.