[b]Assembly of the Republic, São Bento Palace, Lisbon[/b]

Smoking had been banned in the Assembly two years earlier and yet, the stale smell of tobacco still lingered in the air.

It only made Geraldo Cardoso, a [i]deputado[/i] of the opposition party, [i]Partido Socialista[/i], crave a smoke more. Judging by the uncomfortable foot tapping of his companion, Cristiano Pereira, he was not the only one. The old Brazilian, who's complexion only darkened with age and constant reelection, held a blank stare at the droning speech of the Deputy Prime Minister, a man of swarthy Angolan descent. Geraldo glanced at Cristiano, who met his gaze briefly and rolled his eyes. This was a vote they had already lost and everyone knew it.

For the past three hours, every member of the Assembly had piled into the room and loudly debated the merits and faults of the Prime Ministers proposal - a declaration of war on the Ethiopian Empire. Geraldo could only watch as his party was beaten down, again and again, by the skilled orators of the Government. Arguments and accusations flew wildly from both sides and two [i]deputados[/i] had already been removed by the Speaker.

"The aggressive actions of the Ethiopian Empire against our closest ally and friend, Spain, should not be met with silence from the international community. As a founding member of the Iberian League, Portugal should not stand for this kind of..." droned Mbandi, reading his speech from a sheet held close to his nose. Geraldo wondered how much he had been paid to write it. If Cristiano was to be believed, half of the men opposite were in the pocket of some Spaniard or another and judging by the bored silence from a majority of the Socialist deputados, so were they.

But Geraldo wasn't. That was one thing the young politician could say with pride - he was loyal to his party and his country. Cristiano, despite receiving demotions from the party leaders, continued to voice his negative opinion of Spanish influence loudly, for everyone to hear. The party leader of the socialists, a meek man by the name of Nando, had never been a match for the wit of Salvador Macedo, Prime Minister of Portugal and good friend of Spain.

Mbandi finished his speech justifying war, to the relief of the entire Assembly and passed on speaking rights to Macedo, who took his place. It was no wonder this man was Prime Minister. He had the good looks, the charismatic speeches and the intelligent wit to keep him power.

"Gentlemen" he purred into the microphone. Immediately, the entire Assembly sat a little straighter. Macedo had the kind of voice that demanded attention. "The decision to join our Spanish comrades in war was a hard one. No leader wants to send the young men of his country into danger. I certainly do not. But as it stands, we cannot ignore the injustices of the Ethiopian regime. Under our current foreign policy, we will not tolerate threats of sovereignty on ourselves or our allies from our own backyard. We will not tolerate the rights of men, white or coloured, to be curbed by emperors and chairmen. I will not tolerate the destruction of age-old traditions by men of no creed."

He paused as the murmurs of agreement from his party, the majority [i]Partido Republicano[/i], turned to frenzied shouts.

"So, my fellow deputados, today I ask you, as your elected leader, to approve the declaration of war against the Ethiopian Empire. Against the men who would only wish to destroy what 800 years of tradition have built in this country. What 2000 years of history have built on this continent. I ask you to help our dearest friends and neighbours in Spain defend their sovereignty from the Empire that grows on their border. To defend-"

And so it went on. Geraldo could hardly hide his distaste as the Prime Minister continued, practically bragging at his un-won victory. The old Brazilian beside him sighed heavily and sank into his chair. "Christ, I wish we could just get to the vote already" groaned Cristiano, massaging his eyeballs with his knuckles. "We already know how its going to go, they're just wallowing in the victory" murmured Geraldo in reply. They'd all been told how to vote by the whip but even the combined opposition all voting against the proposed declaration would not beat the majority whip. 

The only reason the Socialists had even turned up for the vote was to save face and look like a viable opposition but to Geraldo, it seemed like a waste of time.

[b]Later that evening...[/b]

"God, I could use a drink" grumbled Geraldo, assisting Cristiano down the steps of the assembly. The old Brazilian leaned heavily on a cane, his leg having been completely ruined in his youth. Cristiano looked dejected and his eyes narrowed as Nando, his party leader, hurried past, his eyes attached firmly to the ground. "Bastardo" spat the Brazilian when he was out of earshot. "How treasonous of you" replied Geraldo dryly, preparing himself for another anti-Spanish rant. The two walked out the front doors, wondering why they had even entered in the first place.

"Geraldo, we need to get rid of him" said Cristiano suddenly, gasping from the effort of walking but still managing to gesture towards Nando ahead of them. Geraldo snorted. "This isn't the favelas of Sao Paulo, Cristiano" he replied, slowing his walk to stop.

The cool summer air felt refreshing after a day spent in the stuffy assembly. As deputados rushed off home through the brightly lit lawns of the Assembly, Geraldo and Cristiano sat down on a bench. "We don't have to...y'know, 'get rid of him'. There are legal methods, my friend. Nando is not suited to the job of head of the opposition and I'm not the only one to think he needs a replacement" replied Cristiano, pulling a hat from his jacket pocket. He examined the hat, brushing lint with his other hand, before placing it on his head.

"Well, you're right there" replied Geraldo, a cigarette already in his mouth. "If you can find someone suitable to replace him, I'll help you get him in". The younger Lusophone frowned for a moment, as he dug into his pockets for a lighter. He grunted in frustration as he realised he'd left it at home. "Got a light?" he asked the Brazilian. Cristiano silently produced a lighter from his pockets and lit a cigarette of his own. Both men puffed on their cigarettes thoughtfully. 

It hadn't yet dawned on them that they were now at war.

[b]Jornal de Notícias, Portugal[/b]

[i]...and it is decreed, as of the 22nd of July, 1980, that the Second Portuguese Republic has declared war on the Ethiopian Empire, in defence of its ally, the Second Spanish Republic and its colonies. All Ethiopian-Portugese business is to be suspended immediately and all travel to and from the Ethiopian Empire is to be stopped. Prime Minister Macedo has declared the act of war "a necessary act to combat the threat on Spanish Africa" and has dismissed claims that Ethiopians in Portugal are at risk. However, Prime Minister Macedo has refused to comment on alleged claims from the opposition that the declaration was purely to appease Spanish interests and is to travel to Italy on a state visit in the coming weeks....[/i]