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L-Imperu Tal-Mediterra
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After the Great Collapse, when the satellites went dark and the oil wells ran dry, the old ways returned. From the fortress-docks of Valletta, the new Maltese Sovereignty arose. With the world's finest fleet of oak and linen, the Grand Master's influence now stretches from the Pillars of Hercules to the shores of the Levant. Malta is no longer an island; it is the heartbeat of the world.
"Merhaba-Dobar, ħabib-i amiku! Kif ça va hayom? Bo nilech le-port-u per ftit inbid i pite, tamman? Ix-xemx shkelqen sur le baħar, tout il-kosmos è shalom, mirë!"
The "Imperu-Pidgin":
Hello-Good [AR/SC], friend-my friend [MT/SCN]! How are you [MT/FR] today [HB]? Come let's go [HB] to the port [MT/FR/SCN] for a little [MT] wine [MT] and pies [EL], okay [TR]? The sun [MT] shines [AL] on the sea [FR/MT], all the world [FR/MT/EL] is peace [HB], good [AL]!
Thalassocracy of the New Age
In the markets of the empire, the air is thick with the scent of spices and the sound of the Lingua Maritima. It is a tongue of necessity, born on the decks of trade-ships. We represent the fusion of every coast. We do not recognize the borders of the pre-collapse era; we recognize only the currents and the wind.
"Il-ħajja tagħna hi tova mazi, kemm hi bel! La yujad gvul fi lu baħar, solo imħabba i żebbuġ-u. Akouse le buzuki fil-bazaar-i, el kor battre forte per il-Libertà del Imperu. Molt bonic, hux?"
Translation: Our life is good together, how beautiful! There is no border in the sea, only love and olives. Listen to the bouzouki in the bazaar, the heart beats strong for the Freedom of the Empire. Very beautiful, right?
The Trade Winds of Sovereignty
The Maltese Empire manages the crossroad of souls. We protect the trade routes from Gibraltar to Al-Quds. To sail the Mediterranean is to speak our language and pay our tithe in silk, honey, and high-fidelity wood.
VIVA L-IMPERU! // MALTA SUPREMA! // MARE NOSTRUM!