The Government of Hibernia made a public announcement on the day of the brutal, decimating combat in the northern borderlands. Smoke rose, corpses littered the ground, the bunkers and fortifications lay cracked and mangled, the green hills replaced with mud dyed red with the blood of thousands upon thousands of the dead. As the survivors gathered the bodies and watched the retreating forces disappear, they felt nothing. Nothing except pure, condensed terror, and an unspeakable dread for what each and every single one of them knew was about to come. In their futures, they saw death, they saw blood, they saw slaughter. Maybe it would last a few months. Maybe it would last years. But they knew, it would be the death of all of them. As the public officials gathered together and took their seats, they faced the crowd with sweat running down their faces, dark chasms carved beneath their eyes by exhaustion, and voices quivering in fear. They spoke.
To the peoples of the south, and the east, we have a message. Sordland will not end their conquest with us. They will not rest until every corner of our lands are theirs. We can fight them now, together, or we can die one at a time. Hibernia cannot stand against Sordland on its own. No-one, no country or people can stand against the Sordlanders on their own. They will consume Hibernia, destroy our culture, erase our language, burn our histories, and eliminate every trace of resistance. With the Industry and populace of Hibernia behind them on top of their new holdings in what was once Reval, they will become truly unstoppable. Once again, we beg of you, not just for us, but for everyone. We fight together, right here and right now, or we shall die alone, one at a time. Thank you, and goodbye.
Edit: I am hereby changing my research focus from atomic theory to radios.