NationStates Jolt Archive

We, the Daresh people, have been blessed by the almighty God with unparalelled prosperity in recent months. One company that has been particularly prosperous has been Nado Cola, which has generously donated, along with independently wealthy aristocrat Segnor Pau Seles, a large amount of funds for Daretxa's premier museum of fine arts. The Nado-Seles museum, in the Daresh capital of Iltara, is designed by Daretxa's best-known architect, Migel Roges. The first pieces in a (hopefully) expanding collection include two Carravaggios, a Picasso and four Rubens paintings (donated by Segnor Seles himself). We invite all nations to our gala opening, and the subsequent "art festival" to follow in the next two weeks.

The museum curator is Maria Galarde, herself an accomplished artist. Sra. Galarde's work is the first of the changing exhibitions at the Nado-Seles Gallery. Group tours by appointment.

--(message approved for dispatch by Ambassador Jordi Cuevas)

His Highness, Prince Okilon, Third Cousin of King Wasterin VII, wishes to attend the gala opening of the art gallery. He has long been a patron of the arts, even prior to the re-instatement of the Royal Family. Irk Welo, Deputy Director of the Royal Travels Division of the Office of Royal Affairs will also be with him. He hopes he will be able to find first class accomidations, and luxuries within your nation.

Metro Ak
Personal Assistant to Prince Okilon


(The Office of Royal Affairs is known to be the government's way of controlling the Ceremonial Royalty of Aerion. The Prelacy, the leading organ of the New Aerion Order fascist party, and government closely supervise the Office. The Deputy Director traveling with him is a sign they are keeping a close eye on the situation, and the Prince.)

We welcome Prince Okilon to our humble nation. As we have only recently gained our independence from the Fiorlins, we are still rebuilding our infrastructure to the quality in which it was before our independence. We have embarked, however, on an ambitious building program to expand the museum into an arts campus, with convention center, music auditorium, art school, and five star hotel. We wish only the finest in accomodations for our friends from Aerion, and we will provide an ample suite in our best-known landmark castle, Velljoan Rock for your stay.

In an additional note, the date for the gala will be February 15th, to coincide with our independence day celebration. The arts festival will last until the end of the month. Daresh violinist Pere Ubarto, recently returned from exile, will perform at the gala.

It is our hope that this event will help us achieve the funds to complete our arts campus, and to provide a future refuge for all oppressed artists and those yearning for the truth in art.

Jordi Cuevas,
Humble ambassador of the Daresh people

The grand duchy of Reinwald under the supreme rule of Archduke Ambrose II greets the nation of Daretxa. In the name of our superior God we proclaim our dominion of the Three duchies of the Odevel and the far islands of the East.

Though we do not care for the realm of art, we believe our prescence must be felt at such an event. We send our royal envoy, Gustav Rehlmer, and his entourage of 43 servants. We trust you shall have the means to provide for his stay.

Archduke Ambrose II

Iltara, Daretxa
February 10, 2004

Daretxa's capital city, Iltara, buzzes with activity this week as it nears it's grand event that aims to ignite a new period of prosperity for the newly liberated Daresh people. The event is the gala opening of the Nado-Seles art museum, an impressive world-class affair that promises to be a premier international venue for the fine arts. Even now, the last touches are being put into place, with lightbulbs being screwed in, and the inauguration today by the Daresh council of the first leg of a new public rail system destined to connect the far corners of Daretxa.

A spokesperson for museum curator Maria Galarde said "We hope sincerely that this will be a crucial event for the international community, and that, while our nation is small and young, our voice can be heard through our passion for art, both ours and the crucial art heritage of all the world."

The Daresh government has invited all foreign diplomats with a respect for art to attend the gala ceremony this Sunday evening. Ambassador Jordi Cuevas assures this reporter that security will be top-notch, and that it will open Daretxa up to the world forum. "We hope that Daretxa can become a world player, and a voice for all free people everywhere."

DCNN-2004

Every time he passed the museum now, he had to look away. Cuevas knew that everything was behind schedule, even as he approached Maria Galarde with his hand outstretched. It was going to take all his might to make things actually happen on Sunday. Construction crews had been working around the clock, still painting and installing wiring in the museum so that it would be ready in time for the Gala. He knew already it wouldn't be.

"Ambassador Cuevas, so good of you to come," said Galarde sternly.
"I have no other choice," replied Cuevas, "We have announced this event for the entire world, and you tell me know that it might not happen?"
"At this moment, it will still happen, but we just don't know how successful it will be," said Galarde. Cuevas shook his head. He did not want his nation's first steps on the international stage to stumble.

Cuevas thought about all the people coming to the gala. Foreign leaders were to attend, both important allies, and potential ones. Businesses from all over the world were converging on the capital of Iltara already, interested in this small breakaway republic that had suddenly thought itself worthy enough to play a major role, at least in the realm of art. Art museums are always highly political, he thought. People wanted art in their cities, especially the culture-conscious Daresh. But it was expensive. The project was still coming in under budget, thanks to the Nado cola company and Pau Seles, but the Gala was going to drive the cost even higher still. He could not go bankrupt.

Cuevas had talked to his fellow members of the Upper Council, asking for their advice. Though they were enthusiastic, none knew what to say. Cuevas looked at the building, its massive sail-like roof gleaming in the sun above the wharf. It was truly a beautiful building. So beautiful, that it could destroy his country if anything went wrong. Cuevas did not even want to begin to think about the whispers of security threats that had seeped out of Fiorlin terrorist groups. He had assured himself that he had taken every precaution possible.

"Oh, yes, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news..," Maria Galarde began.
"Don't worry, I've definitely grown accustomed to it," said Jordi Cuevas.
"Yes, well, Pere Ubarto our violinist had a heart attack this morning."
"Perfect," said Jordi.

The crowd of people, mostly high-ranking Daresh citizens with the few foreign diplomats who had bothered to show, stood chatting in the atrium of the grand new museum now unveiled in Iltara. The soulful strains of Pere Ubarto are missed among the crowd, due to his recent hospitalization. In his place is a Daresh folk band--not quite what the organizers had had in mind, but reasonable for short notice.

The crowd applauded as Ambassador Jordi Cuevas walked up to the podium at one end of the large, white room. He looked out at the faces, clearly dissappointed that more had not come. He cleared his throat noisily, adjusted his tie, and spoke:

"Thank you all of you who were so kind to assemble tonight. We are grateful for so many of you, as many of you have supported us throughout this project and enabled us to bring it into fruition. Our people welcome those from foreign lands, and we wish to extend our gratitude to you as well, for being here for this great moment for Daretxa. Though we have felt strongly in our nation for centuries, only until now could we express these feelings fully, and only until now could we be free enough to celebrate our own people.

Our people hold art as an important expression of their own identity, and we give this not to ourselves, but to the world, so that our identity may give the world much-needed sympathy and compassion. We give art to the world so that it may revel in the healing of beauty. Art can heal the suffering of this land, we feel. Just as this museum has risen from the ashes of its surrounding city in a mere matter of months, we hope to rise like a phoenix, not to take revenge or to be drunk with power, but to be a strong and vibrant people. A people who are not afraid to look into the face of future. We are a small nation, but the strength of the athlete is not with the strongest, but it is instead with the one who has trained the hardest. We like the athlete, have commited ourselves to a new future.

We only ask it of our fellow nations that they listen to us, if only to allow us voice, for we speak for those who have no voices. We speak for the ones whose languages are unknown. We speak for those lost in the reverie of true beauty, expressed in these artworks. We speak for the world. May a true friendship with all nations grow. All are invited to share this moment with us, and to embrace destiny. No country is called to be alone. Let us join together to give hope for the future."

When Cuevas had finished, he adjusted his glasses and stepped down. The assembled legislators and diplomats erupted in applause, and the true celebration began. Outside, fireworks went off and assembled crowds began dancing and singing. Tonight was a benchmark night for Daretxa. And for once, the whole world was watching...

Gustav Rehlmer rolled his eyes at the sappy patriotism in Cuevas's voice. He did not like art. Too much nudity, he insisted. He hated functions like these where he had to act interested, though he really wasn't. Cuevas's brief conversation with him had not given him very much confidence in the usefulness of Daretxa for his own country.

He had just escaped to a quiet corner of the museum to smoke a cigar, free for a short moment from his various attendants. He paced up and down the corridor, puffing away, and looking scornfully at the paintings.

"Please, what garbage," he said, "Daretxa rising from the ashes? Cuevas talks so much about the Daresh people's identity, but says nothing about their supposed former domination. He thought surely there were holes in this Daresh "identity". But he sighed, recognizing that his country too, while much stronger than Daretxa, was still a small fry to the rest of the world. Though he was disappointed that his people were not put up in the Velljoan castle at first, he realized that the Daresh's nonchalantness over his presence were a symptom of their weakness.

"Art," he scoffed, "Who needs it." He motioned for his advisor, who came over immediately. He informed the man that they were to prepare to leave at once, unless something were to sway his mind at the last minute. But Gustav Rehlmer found that highly doubtful.

He could see Jordi Cuevas come over to him, and he was grinning like an idiot to speak with him. Rehlmer simply ignored him and walked past him.

Jack Noonan, one of the senior executives of our automobile manufacturing company, and one of the richest civilians in The Captain, is interested in this event.

He is a collector of art, and is willing to loan one of his pieces to the museum at no cost. He needs to know what style would fit best in your museum, and then he will personally deliver it to you. All we require is an unveiling honoring Noonan.

Daretxa is deeply honored by Mr. Noonan's generosity. We would like to invite him and all others from the Captain to share in our arts festival which shall run until the end of this month. Our museum is of no one particular style, though our most extensive collection is from the Baroque period, particularly Italian artists from this time. We are most interested in procuring modern artworks, from the early 20th centuries, to buffer our currently displayed Picasso.

We thank you once again for Mr. Noonan's generosity, and we hope to meet with him very soon.

Cuevas stood blinking as the man he had walked up to simply passed by him. He had watched Gustav Rehlmer uneasily throughout the whole night. Rehlmer clearly would have rather been elsewhere, and he made no effort to conceal this. Rehlmer, in his brief conversation with Cuevas, had been direct, but distracted. Cuevas would have rather he not have come. The truth was, not many foreign diplomats had the time available to be there. Those sent there were mostly cousins of kings and lesser cabinet members sent away to get them out of their country's affairs for a few days. Though he was pleased at the turnout, and he had encountered as well several pleasant rulers, he thought it could have been better. Always the perfectionist, he thought to himself.

He could tell that Rehlmer would leave at the first chance available. It didn't interest him that much.

Prince Okilon was wearing an elegant long white mandarin collar coat coming slightly below his waist, over an shimmery white vest, and elegant shirt. Under the coat, and over the vest was an shiny red princely sash with a star in a certain shape. He appeared very stately, having long white hair tied up into an elegant pony tail, and his aged white face bearing stately but sharp features. He watched the proceedings politely, sipping a glass of white wine he had requested. Standing at his side was a man with black hair, and brown eyes. He had slightly tan skin. He wore a simple black v-neck tunic, and pants. He often was seen speaking into a cellphone, or hidden microphone in his collar. The Deputy Director of Royal Travels, of the Office of Royal Affairs had been stalking the Prince all night long. Insuring the policies of the Prelacy were not interfered with.

In the corner, away from the crowds a moment, Maria Galarde peered out critically into the crowd. She had hardly had time to present herself well this evening, other than a short unremarkable speech she gave, mostly thanking the Nado cola foundation, Pau Seles' generosity, and the other benefactors who had made the museum possible. The loss of the violinist Pere Ubarto had been a strong blow to the function, but especially to her. At least it was not publically known the nature of her and Ubarto's relationship. She followed Cuevas' head through the crowd, its jet-black hair flecked with greys. He was busily playing the diplomat, but many of the foreign envoys had begun to regard him as something of little importance, distracting them from their conversations. Cuevas had worked hard for this occasion, and it was clear that the stress had started to wear on him. His nerves and worries were unraveling as he made his way across the floor.

In the atrium, the Daresh folk band had just finished a song, to polite applause. She turned toward a large window that overlooked the wharf and the sea beyond. Boats had gathered in the harbor to celebrate the night beneath the fireworks, and to be within view of the museum itself. She saw her own reflection in the mirror. With all the preparations for the gala, she had not prepared herself. She had thrown on a black dress that did not fit her well. She thought of Pere and how important it would have been for him to be there.

Her cellphone rang. She answered it breathlessly.
"Miss Galarde, this is the hospital."
"Yes..." she said very hesitantly.
"There have been...complications," said the voice on the other end, "with Segnor Ubarto. We believe that someone should come down here."
"What kind of complications?" she asked.
"We prefer to speak of it in person," said the voice.
This sounded either suspicious, but she thought that she had better go in any case. She wondered if she should notify Cuevas. One glance out to the floor to see him laughing with Segnor Seles convinced her she had better go alone.

Gustav Rehlmer had gone out for fresh air on the museum balcony for a moment. He wanted to collect himself before he was to leave. From his balcony he could see the whole city. Crowds were reveling in the streets, and fireworks were exploding over his head, but here on the balcony he was alone. Still no one was leaving except for one woman. From up here, he couldn't make out her identity, but he followed her with his eyes. She stepped into a cab that had pulled up and went away. He thought it strange that someone else had left so early. He knew, however, that he would have to face the idiot Cuevas again before he left. So he smoothed back his hair and walked back inside. He was in such a hurry that he ran into Prince Okilon of Aerion, nearly knocking him down. He apologized profusively, but it was now too late. Everyone had seen his near-accident with the prince and he became the topic of hushed conversation throughout the atrium. A few attendees even laughed at him! Prince Okilon did not look pleased.

Since there were no important votes in The Senate for awhile, Noonan persuaded his good friend, Senator Richard Xanatos, to join him.

They boarded their plane in The Captain and had their things loaded onto another cargo plane. Both jets lifted off and were bound for Daretxa. When they landed, the cargo plane opened up and they rolled out the limosuine, motorcade, and transport truck.

When the cars were finished lining up, Noonan and Xanatos disembarked and got into their limo. When they were ready to go, the motorcycles, sedans, and SUVs formed up around the 18-wheeler and limo.

The cars all made their way towards the museum. Security was tight due to the appearance of the Senator and two priceless pieces of art owned by Noonan. Inside the semi were two Henri Matisse originals, "Jazz" and "Notre Dame." When they arrived at the museum the paintings were unloaded and the two men walked inside.

Cuevas had barely time to react to the Reinwald envoy's crash into the Aerion prince when he was informed by one of his aides that the guests of honor from The Captain had arrived. He was relieved. The invaluable works that they carried with them had been kept hushed, to be revealed as a surprise during the gala. The Captain had by far been the most generous nation, and Noonan the most generous patron. He had wondered how the museum's other wealthy benefactor, Pau Seles, would get along with Noonan.

He looked around for Maria Galarde, but she was nowhere to be found. He assumed she had received the message as well and left the atrium and slipped upstairs into the moderns gallery, where there were two empty walls flanking a bright Picasso canvas study for his Gernika. The men who had come in with Noonan and Senator Xanatos were busy unpacking the paintings.

Cuevas extended his hand warmly and said, "Gentlemen, my deepest gratitude is yours for both your generosity and coming on such short notice. It is so good to meet you both in person. If you would not mind, we have been awaiting the announcement of your donation below. We would be honored if you said a few words for us, Mr. Noonan."

Prince Okilon was indeed frowning, but as time passed seemed to ignore the incident as he downed more wine. He gazed at the various art pieces, the Deputy Director accompanying him, nodding, and relucantly saying "Yes, Your Highness" whenever he commented on a painting, but otherwise seeming disinterested in the entire thing other than watching others present like a hawk. He seemed to hate the Prince, but at the same time be assigned to him. The Prince was only titular, and held no real political power in Aerion. The Deputy Director, even though the Deputy Head of the Royal Travels Division of the Office of Royal Affairs, had the real power, but had to be polite to the Prince to follow the dictates of Aerion etiquette. The Prince did seem to have an eye for art, as he discussed it as if he knew it well.

Maria Galarde had just arrived at the hospital. She ran up the front steps, in through a squeaky revolving door. At the desk she was told to wait in the lobby until the doctor would come and speak with her about what was wrong. She wrung her hands together, too nervous to sit down. The hospital around her was dark and austere. She could still hear the echoes of the Daresh revolution a year ago when the hospital became a hideout for revolutionaries. Now, repairs were still being made to the walls, and new floors were still being laid. A whole wing of the hospital that had been destroyed had almost completed reconstruction. She looked at her watch, it was already 9:30. A middle-aged doctor in a white labcoat came down the hall.

"Miss Galarde?" he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"Can we step into my office, this is important."

Maria Galarde had just arrived at the hospital. She ran up the front steps, in through a squeaky revolving door. At the desk she was told to wait in the lobby until the doctor would come and speak with her about what was wrong. She wrung her hands together, too nervous to sit down. The hospital around her was dark and austere. She could still hear the echoes of the Daresh revolution a year ago when the hospital became a hideout for revolutionaries. Now, repairs were still being made to the walls, and new floors were still being laid. A whole wing of the hospital that had been destroyed had almost completed reconstruction. She looked at her watch, it was already 9:30. A middle-aged doctor in a white labcoat came down the hall.

"Miss Galarde?" he said.
"Yes," she replied.
"Can we step into my office, this is important."

"Of course, I will say a few words."

Noonan walked up to the area where his paintings were being set up. There were big black drapes hanging over them so that none could see until the unveiling. He got on the small stage, stood in front of the podium and cleared his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Foreign Dignataries, and Distinguished Guests, welcome to the Nado-Seles Museum. There are some fine pieces of art here, as I have viewed walking in. I first heard about this grand opening a few days ago, and I decided that I should take the time to share my joy in collecting art with the rest of you. I have lent the museum two of the finest pieces in my collection, both by Henri Matisse. Hopefully you have all heard a little about him, but if not, I hope that after tonight you will take the images of these paintings with you. For to like art is one thing, but to know art is something completely different.

"Without further ado, I give you Matisse's 'Jazz' and 'Notre Dame.'"

The black curtains lifted up, revealing the original pieces of art for all to see.

http://plaza.ufl.edu/bcav/jazz.jpg

http://plaza.ufl.edu/bcav/notredame.jpg

Cuevas beamed with satisfaction for the first time that evening. The paintings were so much more than he had hoped for, and he could see that the crowd felt the same. He had been looking, still, for Galarde but she was nowhere to be found. He told one of his aides to look for her. It was not right that she should be not present here for the unveiling. He was not smiling quite as much now. But he was happy with the words spoken by Noonan.

Cuevas moved across the floor, to bask in the approval of the foreign diplomats who were inspecting the two new Matisse canvases.

Xanatos was watching Noonan speak from the side of the stage. As Noonan finished and walked offstage, Xanatos shook his hand.

"Jack, you really did it again," Senator Xanatos said. "Every place we go, you show these paintings and people get all sentimental and artsy. How do you do it?"

"It's easy, Rich," Noonan replied. "I didn't make all my money by being bad at this. It's all how you sell your product. I just happen to be a great seller. Let's go see what people have to say."

They walked away from the podium and into the crowd.

"I just wanted to thank you again for your generosity, Mr. Noonan--and your words," said Cuevas as he held a champagne glass in his hand. He finished the glass off and shook Noonan's hand. The folk band started up again. God, did he hate that band. It made him wonder how Pere Umbarto's condition was at the hospital. He had gone to see him earlier that day, but the doctors turned him away, saying that they were still doing some testing. Something about the doctor's manner seemed strange to Cuevas, but he couldn't say exactly what it was. Galarde had said that Umbarto had a heart attack, but somehow he doubted this.

In his pocket he felt his cellphone vibrate. It was Galarde. He quickly moved into a quieter corner to speak to her.
"Where the hell are you, Maria?" shouted Cuevas.
"Jordi, I think you need to get out of there, and call the gala off." she said.
"Are you crazy?! Why the hell would I need to do that?"
"It's...Umbarto. There's a lot of things you should know. Right now you just need to know that you might be in danger, but maybe not, I don't know."
"You expect me to call off this whole thing with THAT explanation? Why don't you do me a favor and get back here now! You were conspicuously absent from the Matisse donation."
"But this is important," said Maria desparately.
"This is more so. I don't care where you are, but get here now!" Cuevas said flatly. He shut his phone and stuck it back in his pocket. Within ten seconds it was vibrating again, but now he had decided to ignore all calls.

"I just wanted to thank you again for your generosity, Mr. Noonan--and your words," said Cuevas as he held a champagne glass in his hand. He finished the glass off and shook Noonan's hand. The folk band started up again. God, did he hate that band. It made him wonder how Pere Umbarto's condition was at the hospital. He had gone to see him earlier that day, but the doctors turned him away, saying that they were still doing some testing. Something about the doctor's manner seemed strange to Cuevas, but he couldn't say exactly what it was. Galarde had said that Umbarto had a heart attack, but somehow he doubted this.

In his pocket he felt his cellphone vibrate. It was Galarde. He quickly moved into a quieter corner to speak to her.
"Where the hell are you, Maria?" shouted Cuevas.
"Jordi, I think you need to get out of there, and call the gala off." she said.
"Are you crazy?! Why the hell would I need to do that?"
"It's...Umbarto. There's a lot of things you should know. Right now you just need to know that you might be in danger, but maybe not, I don't know."
"You expect me to call off this whole thing with THAT explanation? Why don't you do me a favor and get back here now! You were conspicuously absent from the Matisse donation."
"But this is important," said Maria desparately.
"This is more so. I don't care where you are, but get here now!" Cuevas said flatly. He shut his phone and stuck it back in his pocket. Within ten seconds it was vibrating again, but now he had decided to ignore all calls.

"Thank you. I love my art collection so much that I want to share it with others. Maybe one day I will open my own gallery in The Captain..." Noonan trailed off in his thoughts for a second.

"This is a lovely reception, Mr. Cuervas. I am personally a fan of baroque art, and I feel that this is the right place to come," The Senator added.

With that, Cuervas excused himself and took his phone call.

"Well Jack, any other foreign dignitaries you think we should meet?"

OOC: Daretxa, are we allowed to know what's going on, or are you keeping it a secret? Maybe you could send a telegram? Either way, we have our security team ready for evacuation of our men if needed.

Maria was sprinting down the sidewalk. Ahead she could see the gleaming white form of the museum, several blocks away. She told herself that everything was going to be all right. The parliament had provided an impressive security force to keep watch on all the proceedings. She was just overreacting, that must be it.

But they had gotten to Umbarto. If they could get to him, could they get deeper? Ever since the break away just a year ago from the Fiorlin Empire, small groups of loyalists had popped up in dark underground cafes and in private apartments. In spite of the government's earnestness in providing fairly for every citizen, it was clearly still a young government. Though she was happy to see a dream fulfilled in the opening of the museum, she was worried by Cuevas's insistence that it needed to be an event of international import. The groups could strike at such a vulnerable time, though they hadn't done anything yet--until now.

Umbarto had been the first. She didn't want to tell Cuevas that Umbarto had overdosed. Such negative publicity so soon before the gala could destroy the country. So she had created a lie to keep things running smoothly. If Cuevas was in trouble, both her lie and Umbarto's condition would be found out. She had thought that Umbarto had done it himself, but she could not understand why. But the doctor told her frankly that this was the work of someone else--a chemical injection into the jugular to paralyze him. There was some evidence of struggle. Someone had incapacitated him for a good reason.

She didn't know the whole reason for it, but her immediate concern was for the gala. She only hoped that her worries were wrong. She had called the captain of the security force, and he had assured her that the gala was under control. In any case Cuevas needed to know that the resistance forces had begun to take action.

OOC: This should explain the bulk of it, security shouldn't be an issue. I was just trying to let it develop organically, with things happening without prior knowledge.

With a red face, Gustav Rehlmer sat sulking in the corner. He hated the small, insignificant banter between countries that didn't truly care about each other. However, he knew that he needed to make vital connections for his country. At least he had been mercifully free of Cuevas, who seemed to be worried about some other matter. He had been mildly enthused over the two paintings that had been brought in, but all art to him looked remarkably equal. He looked closely at each painting, trying to figure each one out. He made a concerted effort to avoid Prince Okilon throughout the rest of the night, though Okilon seemed to not be too bothered by it. Not that it mattered, since any time someone would walk by give him a condescending smile. He had thus resorted to simply helping himself to as much free champagne as he could get, hoping that his nightmare would end.

He saw Jack Noonan and Rich Xanatos walking through the crowd. He took a deep breath. They hadn't seen his mishap, so he could actually drum up the courage to talk to them. He extended his hand to Noonan.

"Those were lovely words, Mr. Noonan. I am sure that the museum here appreciates your contribution. I only wish that Reinwald had a gallery as well so you could be so generous with us." He laughed unnecessarily loudly. Noonan nodded politely.

"Thank you. Maybe we can make a brief stop off in your country before bringing my art back home. Who knows, maybe I can persuade Senator Xanatos and his colleagues to send you over a donation for a national museum."

"Don't hold your breath though," Xanatos added. The Senate of The Captain was infamous for declining any international aid at all. "Although, for my good friend Jack, we might be able to do something for you."

Cuevas was furious. By now he had withdrawn with Maria Galarde into her office away from the party. She had burst into the gala looking a mess, with a crazed look on her face, and declaring that she needed to see Cuevas immediately.

"Have you completely lost it? Do you not realize how important this is? I don't care where you've been, but I have half a mind to fire you on the spot, or at least I would if I had any authority to do so." Cuevas yelled.
"Jordi, you've got to listen to me, the gala might be in danger," she said, "If they could get to Pere, they could get to us!"
"Who is this 'they' you are talking about," said Cuevas, "You don't expect me to believe this, do you? Terrorists? Please, we've made sure security is unprecedented for this gala. There is nothing to worry about."

Maria could not be swayed, however, and she paced back and forth about her office. Then she came to a realization.

"Jordi, is there any part of the museum that's not being used yet tonight?" she asked.
"Only the Carravaggio wing, we are still awaiting the majority of those pieces to arrive next month." he said, "Why?"

But no sooner than he had spoken did he hear a blast. The Carravaggio wing had exploded. Maria and Jordi rushed out into the atrium, where a large dust cloud was emanating from the roped-off wing. The band had stopped and general chaos had taken its place. No one looked hurt, but everyone was covered in dust from the explosion. a few flames burned on the edges of the wing, which now opened up onto a view of the wharf and the night sky, instead of two priceless Carravaggios.

Cuevas stood dumbstruck for a moment, then grabbed a nearby champagne glass that had been sheltered from the blast. He downed the champagne in one gulp.

"This is simply not my day," he said.

The explosion rocked the area where Noonan's paintings were on display. His first reaction after was to see if The Senator was alright. He was, which prompted Noonan to move on to his second worry.

"My paintings!" Jack yelled as he ran towards the display. Luckily, there was a wall separating his section, and most of the dust hadn't fallen on them. He picked one up and had Xanatos pick up the other.

Outside, Senator Xanatos' security team was hurriedly preparing an immediate extraction. They rushed inside only to be ordered by Noonan to secure the paintings. They set out to do that while a team stayed back with the two men. Automatic weapons drawn, they looked around for anything else suspicious.

The team leader approached Xanatos and Noonan. "Gentlemen, we have to get you out of here now. This place is not safe for you anymore."

"Thank you, Major, but that's not all necessary right now," The Senator replied. "We understand the need for security, but I have to find out what's going on here. Get Jack's art on the plane and prepare for immediate departure. Jack and I will stay and help with the investigation. You may leave a team here to guard me, but I'd like it if you helped the local guys figure things out."

"Yes sir!" The Senators were known for their stubbornness that it would have not made any sense for him to argue the matter. "Please, sirs, take these just in case though." He pulled out two Colt 1911s and handed them to the men.

"Fair enough." Xanatos said as he and Noonan put the handguns in their tuxedo jackets. "Now, let's go find whoever's in charge of this."

Cuevas ran up to Noonan and Xanatos, apologising profusely.

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I can assure you that you are completely safe here. Please do not leave, this event is an isolated occurance that in no way reflects the level of our security." He looked to the men of some assurance of their understanding of the situation. He had seen them take the paintings off of the wall. He knew that much more than their investment would be withdrawn.

Meanwhile Maria stood in the Central gallery, where the Picasso, the Rembrandts, and the remaining artworks still hung in place. Security teams, maintanence crews and the media had all flocked to the Carravaggio wing. Firefighters had already extinguished the flames, and the building seemed to have stabilised, with the atrium and the Central gallery still intact and maintaining structural integrity. There seemed now to be more security teams than guests, and they had regained full control of the situation. Maria thought about the two Carravaggios, one a painting of Bacchus, and another a painting of Saint Jerome, each destroyed by the blast. Unlike Cuevas, who had the prescence of mind to assure the guests of their safety, she could only stand in shock. If only Cuevas had listened to her. She knew she should talk to Noonan and Xanatos. Their paintings had survived, but she knew that they would not remain in the museum, if the museum itself even remained.

She made her way towards Noonan, who had already been talking with Cuevas for some time.

The major approached the pair. "Sirs, the paintings have just made it to the airport and are being put on the plane. We have a team guarding them, and we are prepared to roll them out if needed."

Noonan responded, "Thank you Major. You've done a good job. However, I don't think we'll be needing to take them out of the country as much as we just need to keep them safe for now. As long as nothing happens at the airport, those paintings are to stay on the ground."

"Yes sir," the major replied.

Now, The Senator had something to say. "Major, why don't you come with us to meet whomever's in charge of this. I'm sure you can coordinate with him on what you can help with."

"Of course. It'd make me feel better if you had myself here as an armed escort anyway."

The three men took things in and talked to a few people before they saw a woman walking towards them. They figured that she had to be important, so they made their way towards her.

The Senator extended his hand when she got close. "Ma'am, I am Senator Richard Xanatos from The Captain. Quite a party you've got here."

"I believe you two gentlemen should receive an explanation," said Galarde to Noonan and Xanatos, "It is the least we can do. I hate that you have been so generous towards us and that this has happened. Please know that I am deeply sorry. I am Maria Galarde, I believe I spoke with one of your representatives on the phone about arrangements for your Chagalls--They are stunning works, I might add. I am curator of the museum, such as it is now.

"I am not a government official, so anything I say to you is off the record, but I feel that I can at least shed some light on what has happened. You see, we are celebrating tonight our first year of independence from the country Fiorlin, and while we have made many strides, it seems our confidence in our own stability and security was premature. Since our independence, some pockets of resistance have remained loyal to the Fiorlins. They are small and have not acted in any significant way until now. We never imagined that they would do something like this. I can't say for sure that it is these resistance groups, but I can't think of anyone else it can be. But what better way to show that a country can't stand alone than to destroy its reputation and stability at a gathering of foreign dignitaries?

"I was..." she paused, "a great friend of Pere Umbarto, our violinist. He had been very critical of these groups before the revolution, and had warned against them even before we became independent. That is why he was forced into exile in the first place. The Fiorlin government knew him as a threat. It may seem strange that a violinist could be such a threat to a nation as large as Fiorlin, but I am sure that you of all people, Mr. Noonan, know that the arts are highly political--perhaps the strongest of political forces.

"I can only assume that his...death and this terrorism are linked. But as I said, this is an assumption. I cannot say for sure. "

"I believe you two gentlemen should receive an explanation," said Galarde to Noonan and Xanatos, "It is the least we can do. I hate that you have been so generous towards us and that this has happened. Please know that I am deeply sorry. I am Maria Galarde, I believe I spoke with one of your representatives on the phone about arrangements for your Chagalls--They are stunning works, I might add. I am curator of the museum, such as it is now.

"I am not a government official, so anything I say to you is off the record, but I feel that I can at least shed some light on what has happened. You see, we are celebrating tonight our first year of independence from the country Fiorlin, and while we have made many strides, it seems our confidence in our own stability and security was premature. Since our independence, some pockets of resistance have remained loyal to the Fiorlins. They are small and have not acted in any significant way until now. We never imagined that they would do something like this. I can't say for sure that it is these resistance groups, but I can't think of anyone else it can be. But what better way to show that a country can't stand alone than to destroy its reputation and stability at a gathering of foreign dignitaries?

"I was..." she paused, "a great friend of Pere Umbarto, our violinist. He had been very critical of these groups before the revolution, and had warned against them even before we became independent. That is why he was forced into exile in the first place. The Fiorlin government knew him as a threat. It may seem strange that a violinist could be such a threat to a nation as large as Fiorlin, but I am sure that you of all people, Mr. Noonan, know that the arts are highly political--perhaps the strongest of political forces.

"I can only assume that his...death and this terrorism are linked. But as I said, this is an assumption. I cannot say for sure. "

The three men weren't shocked that this was a terrorist act, but they were interested in the history behind the factions. Their men were outside now, and presumably were working with the Daretxans on establishing a perimeter around the building.

The major stood back and looked around. At least there isn't a high probability of another attack here today, he thought. That made him feel a little more at ease, but he let the two guests of the party handle things.

Noonan replied to Galarde first. "Ma'am, there is no need for you to apologize, as it isn't your fault at all. My two paintings are fine, and I would very much like to return them to your museum when things have calmed a bit."

Xanatos stepped in. "This situation is very interesting. I am saddened to hear of the death of Mr. Umbarto, but there seems to be a pretty conspicuous link between his death and his activism. Tonight's incident bears the same relation. Be aware-- and you can let your government know-- that we in The Captain are willing to help you put down these acts of terrorism. After tonight's display, I don't think anybody in The Senate would object to sending money or supplies your way. Is there anything that Jack and I (and our small military escort) can do for you?"

"I do not know how you can help me," said Galarde, "My only concern is rebuilding my museum. I have little idea of what can be done besides rebuild. Frankly, I fear for the safety of everyone involved, including myself. Clearly they recognize this event as a benchmark occasion for Daretxa, and anyone involved in it could potentially be a target. I have been able to keep silent about a great many things, so I feel I am safe. Only my relationship with Pere would put me within their consideration. I worry most about Cuevas. He has made himself far too conspicuous tonight. I would assume they would target him at some point.

"I can only speculate all of this. We are not people who are used to violence. As a people, the Daresh are peaceful--concerned with the human spirit, but we are not believers in causing others to suffer for a cause. Such a deep inhumanity is alien to our people. We do not know how to fight such a hatred. Thank you and your countrymen for your support. Perhaps in the morning there we will be able to shed some light on all of this. For now all I can suggest is to give your statements to the Federal Investigators."

Maria Galarde shrugged her shoulders. "No doubt Mr. Cuevas will be giving a statement to the media soon, so I will excuse myself. He will want me to be present there as well. Thank you for your patience in such a dark moment."

"Thank you for your time, madam." Noonan said. When Galarde had walked away, Jack turned to The Senator.

"Well, Rich, how 'bout you and I play detective? We'll take the Major with us and poke around for ourselves."

"Sirs," the major interrupted, "I don't think..."

Xanatos cut him off. "Great idea, Jack! I haven't played cowboy in awhile. How about we go and give our statements to the Daretxan investigators, and then we'll ask some questions of our own!"

"After you, Senator."