Roania
12-06-2004, 04:12
Blackwood nodded to the servants as he entered the convention centre on the Sunset Isles. Behind him, the limousine was driven into the garage. Outside the complex, the sound of waves hitting the beaches roared through the small city, and in the distance flags of the Imperial navy waved in the air. He smiled as he passed one of the topless native servants, once more congratulating the hundreds of Ministers of Foreign and Colonial Affairs and Trade who had seen fit to rule over their subjects without replacing their culture.
He loved being in the Sunsets. Here, there were no bossy Roanians poking their noses into everything, no Aguans condemning him for immorality, no Altarans complaining about the exploitation of workers. A Derricksman's dream. There were only the natives, the Imperial Governor, and the Imperial Sunset Isle BattleFleet...
and *them*. Though, of course, properly, they didn't exist. As he reached the convention floor, and directed men to set things up, he could see in a distant harbour the flags of Ardan vessels, and those of the assorted...Metus embassies. He nodded as he applauded the wisdom of his Prime Minister.
Social Democrat though she was, she knew what the Imperium needed. And she, like him, did not see it with the Menelmacari. As he observed, he recited the mantra of all Imperial Foreign Ministers. "Walk the tightrope. For on one side lies honour, but weakness; on the other lies strength, but dishonour..."
He loved being in the Sunsets. Here, there were no bossy Roanians poking their noses into everything, no Aguans condemning him for immorality, no Altarans complaining about the exploitation of workers. A Derricksman's dream. There were only the natives, the Imperial Governor, and the Imperial Sunset Isle BattleFleet...
and *them*. Though, of course, properly, they didn't exist. As he reached the convention floor, and directed men to set things up, he could see in a distant harbour the flags of Ardan vessels, and those of the assorted...Metus embassies. He nodded as he applauded the wisdom of his Prime Minister.
Social Democrat though she was, she knew what the Imperium needed. And she, like him, did not see it with the Menelmacari. As he observed, he recited the mantra of all Imperial Foreign Ministers. "Walk the tightrope. For on one side lies honour, but weakness; on the other lies strength, but dishonour..."