NationStates Jolt Archive

Prologue

Ryan Edelmann, the President’s Chief of Staff, looked worried. “How bad is it?”

“Well,” Shannon Coles, the President’s campaign manager, looked only a little less worried than Edelmann, “nearly 85 % see the lack of response to the President’s initiative in Upper Virginia as a political defeat and an embarrassment to the Confederation. Almost 65 % believe the President made a mistake in trying to intervene…”

“Good Lord,” President Ilmars Alderson pounded a meaty fist on the table, “just days ago people saw the seriousness of the situation and agreed that we should act! What kind of fickle people are we! One day it’s - Act! Now! And the next it’s – Don’t do anything!”

“Mr. President,” Edelmann tried to sound cheery, “public opinion blows with the political winds. We’ve always known that. And Shannon does have some good news. Right, Shannon?”

“Umm,” Shannon tried to force a smile, “yes, Mr. President, the polls show that Congressman Tucker, the New Liberal nominee for president, has a less than 40 % favorable rating. The Sovereignty and Democratic nominees barely register. Your re-election prospects still look very good, sir.”

* * *

“President Alderson is doomed,” Shannon Coles said a few hours later in the corporate boardroom of Confederated Enterprises, Inc.

“His numbers are that weak?” John Hayes, a distinguished looking middle-aged man, asked from his seat at the head of the table.

“Yes, Mr. Chairman.”

“Then,” Thomas Caine, a younger man in a stylish suit, turned to the Chairman of CE, “isn’t it time for us to act?”

“You can’t be serious,” the older man said calmly.

“Of course I am. The convention’s rules allow nominations from the floor,” Caine looked at Shannon, who nodded in agreement, “and after the first ballot all the delegates are free to vote as they choose.” Again, the young political operative across the table nodded in agreement with Caine. “And all we need to do is get enough of the uncommitted delegates to vote for us to deprive Alderson of the supermajority he needs for the nomination.”

Hayes leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute. “Can we get enough delegates, Ms. Coles?”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman. I know exactly which ones to target and I can pass their names to Tom.”

“And, Tom, can you persuade them?”

“Either I or the money I’m prepared to offer them…”

“Now, Tom,” the older man waved his finger at his protégé, “you have to be careful. The last thing we need is a vote buying scandal to bring our little group to life.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” Hayes smiled. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Hayes watched Shannon Coles and Tom Caine exit the boardroom. He smiled. All his plans were coming along perfectly. The Invisible Hand of the Market was surely guiding the Confederation to a new and glorious future. While it was true that the nation was already heavily capitalistic and very prosperous, he knew that it was still being handicapped by antiquated notions of liberalism and religious morality. But a new day was coming.

#tag for later post#

Jefferson, C.S.S.

Diary Entry, Teun van Moorsel,

Today is day two of my new “job” of liaison of the ministry of Economic Affairs in the C.S.S. I’m still in the hotel and somehow missed my contact at the airport. Information is a mess as we do not even have an embassy here. It eludes me why really, it looks a lot like Knootoss in some respects. It must be the downside of being in a forgotten region when wars rage constantly everywhere else. It gives these Isles a pleasurable charm about them, still.

I cannot help but think back at my meeting earlier in Rotterdam with a man from Upper Virginia, a neighbouring country. If the Order is to establish a foothold here then its best done with some coordination. Hopefully, the joint ideal of the Market will also improve relations between these two hostile nations a bit.

My job here in Jefferson is quite artificially created by some Order friends back in The Hague. Basically, I am to watch a phone for about two hours per day when entrepreneurs can call to ask me questions. Nobody has called so far, and this is probably because the international number already has people who speak excellent English. Nevertheless, this hotel room is the closest thing we have to a consulate here.

I am supposed to spend the rest of my day promoting the Order here. I hope I find my contact here in the capital soon. Will try to call them again later.

OOC: Boo! Down with the Order!

And if you do so much as touch the Pantocratorians in the Isles...

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

OOC: *sigh* Just be a good little Christian-fundy and post in the KIST thread will you? *touches Pantocratorians in indecent ways*

“Mr. Hayes?” The secretary’s voice was calm and professional on the phone. “There is a Mr. van Moorsel on the phone. He says you know him…”

“Yes, yes, Ms. Baker,” Hayes leaned back in his chair and swiveled to look over the skyline of Jefferson that stretched out below him, “put him through.”

The phone clicked as the call was transferred. “Van Moorsel? Yes, this is Hayes. I’m sorry that I haven’t been easy to contact these last few days, but things are beginning to fall into place on the political front. Could you come for dinner here in my private dinning room? It would be the perfect place for us to talk. Shall we say half seven?”

----------------------------------------
Mr. Hayes’ private dinning room
----------------------------------------
“Good to meet you Mr. Hayes!”, the Knootian introduced himself. “Its nice to meet someone of high principles this far away from the DDR.”

His eyes lingered involuntary on a bookshelf in the dining room. There was a familiar leather cover on one of the bookshelves.

”If I may?”, he interjected. Hayes nodded and van Moorsel walked over to the bookshelf. He got out a familiar leather cover, smiled, and put it back in its place.

“So… how goes the campaign?”, he inquired.

“So… how goes the campaign?”, van Moorsel inquired.

John Hayes leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Well, Mr. van Moorsel, there are many different campaigns underway," the chairman was clearly amusing himself with some private joke, "and all go well for the moment." Hayes stood and walked over to a well stocked bar. "May I offer you a drink before dinner?" Hayes opened a bottle of scotch whiskey and poured himself a shot.

"As for our campaigns, we are at work on several levels. I've recruited a loyal circle of those who share our principles and belief in the efficiency and utility of the Market. They are spreading the truth among our businessmen and government officials. We are finding many receptive men and women here in New Virginia and in Deandra to the south and in Alud and Trondgard to the north. However, I must admit that we are not finding many open-minded people in Southland and Saxmere." Hayes shook his head. "People there, even business leaders, are far too wedded to antiquated ideas of morality and to the narrow-minded views of our various churches..."

Hayes looked out the window to the lights of the city below. He shrugged and turned back to the Knootian. "On a more positive front, we have a well-placed colleague in our president's re-election campaign." Hayes' face seemed to darken. "The Liberty Party portrays itself as committed to the free market, yet it sacrifices economics to our quaint political ideas of decentralization, so the various States imposed their own limits on the markets, while the central government refuses to act."

The smile returns to his face. "So, it is only appropriate that we will subvert the Liberty Party convention - we already have enough uncommitted delegates to deny President Alderson the nomination on the first ballot. Then, we will be able to introduce my protégé, Tom Caine as the new nominee. Once we have the election, then, we can begin to strip away everything that is uneconomic and begin remake the Confederation in accordance with our principles."

Tag

(OOC: You may visit the Excalbian Isle's homepage here: http://www.geocities.com/ilclbt/history.htm)

Hayes watches the Knootian closely for a moment and sees the man nod, as if urging him to continue.

Hayes pours another drink and hands it to van Moorsel. He passes in front of the windows looking out over the city and turns to face the Knootian. “You may be wondering where the DDR figures into all of this…” Hayes takes a sip of his own drink. “First, once our man in the president’s office, we will make a formal request to sign the KIST. As soon as we do, however, we will be in violation of Excalbia’s exclusion proclamation against the DDR. They will demand that we honor the exclusion and boycott – we will refuse, of course – but then they will likely abrogate our mutual defence treaty and cancel any future arms sales to the Confederation.

“Historically, the Confederation has maintained a small – you might even say miniscule military – we’ve simply found it to be an uneconomic indulgence for us. However, we have to admit that we’ve been able to get by without a military, in part, because of our alliance with our self-righteous neighbor. So, the second thing we would ask from the DDR is a some kind of defence pact and a willingness to sell us sufficient armaments for our own protection. At a fair market price, of course.” Hayes motions for van Moorsel to be seated as a waiter brings out the first course.

Once both men have been served and the waiter has departed, Hayes looks at van Moorsel over a spoonful of soup. “There was one more service we would to procure – if you will – from the DDR. We are certain that opposition will arise once people, especially the churches, the States of Southland and Saxmere and our neighbor, realize that the new government follows the principles of the Order. We will not inherit much of an intelligence service, and information on our enemies’ counterplans would be very useful and we would be very interested in procuring any information that DDR might be able to obtain.”

* * *

Meanwhile, at Jefferson International Airport, Confederation Air flight 309 from Amsterdam is just arriving. Janice Cauna, assistant to Chairman Hayes waits impatiently outside the customs area with a sign reading, “Mr. Turley.”

Forrest Turley felt refreshed as he ambled down the jetway into the airport. His time in Knootoss had been productive and... enjoyable. He somewhat regretted being back in the far more prudish Excalbian Isles.

Turley made his way to border control. The lines were short this time of the evening; only a few flights were arriving from Europe and a smaller number from the Middle East and Africa. Turley moved quickly to the front of the line.

A brown shirted Confederation border guard looked suspiciously at his passport.

"We don't see too many folks from the Dominion these days. Especially not arriving from Europe..."

"Well, I've been traveling on business and am here for meetings at Confederated Enterprises." Turley answered evenly.

"Hmmm... Aren't you," the border guard looked up from his computer screen, "a member of the Dominion ruling council?"

Turley chuckled. "Sort of. I haven't been ratified and haven't formally taken my position. That is why I have only a regular tourist passport. And, I am still Chairman and CEO of several companies in the Dominion and it is in that capacity that I am visiting. So, I'm no more than a quasi-official traveling on private business..."

"Very well," the border guard shrugged as he stamped Turley's passport.

Turley moved quickly through the customs area; he had no baggage after - only the fresh new suit he had bought in Knootoss and some papers, his handheld PC and some toiletries in his briefcase. As he exited the customs area and stepped into the arrivals hall, he spotted an attractive young red-haired woman holding a sign with his name on it.

He smiled and walked up to her. "I'm Turley. You must be from CE." The young woman nodded and greeted Turley. "OK, I have no bags, so lead on!"

Jefferson International Airport, C.S.S.

Janice Cauna smiled at Turley. He wasn't strikingly handsome, but he wasn't bad looking either. And he seemed to have an air of authority and power about him. "Right this way, Mr. Turley," Janice said gesturing towards the main exit.

Janice made some light small talk with Turley as she escorted him to a waiting limo. The driver jumped out as they approached and opened the door. Janice motioned for Turley to enter first, then turned to the driver. "CE Tower, please."

"Yes, ma'am," the driver said softly as he closed the door.

As the car made its way towards downtown, Janice offered Turley a drink and continued with the small talk.

* * *

Umbra, Capital of the Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

The Monastery of Saint Columba was one of the oldest Christian artifacts in the Excalbian Isles. It predated the arrival of the protestant missionaries who ultimately converted the highland king, leading to the creation of the Church of Excalbia, by several hundred years. Yet, the Catholic influence of the Monastery and others like it never spread much further than the Celtic colony of Saxmere.

Sitting in his study, overlooking the cliffs and waters of the North Atlantic, the abbot often wondered what a different place the Excalbian Isles would have been had his predecessors been more successful in converting the Nordic highlanders. Perhaps all the isles would be under single Catholic king...

The elderly abbot's thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knocking on his door. He shifted in his chair to face the door. "Come in."

A tall middle-aged man, wearing a black suit, roman collar and large golden crucifix opened the door and stepped into the room.

The abbot stood immediately. "Your Grace," he said as the bishop entered, "what brings you to our abbey at this hour?"

Bishop Patrick Kiernan smiled and gestured for the elderly monk to sit. "Father Abbot, I've actually been here for a while, but I did not wish to disturb you..."

"Ah," the abbot smiled and picked up his tea pot and fresh cup, "something is bothering you, then. You always did like to pray in the chapel when something was bothering you. Care for some tea? I haven't anything stronger, my doctor has advised me against me it!"

"Yes, please. And you are right, Father Sean. I am troubled."

"Are you going to make me ask, Patrick?"

The bishop smiled at his former teacher. "No, no. I was having a late lunch earlier with our lieutenant governor..."

"Oh, don't be complaining to me about politics! Catholic or protestant or neither, none of them are worth spit!"

"No, not politics per se. How much do you know about the Order of the Invisible Hand, Father?"

The abbot's face darkened. "I know that the Holy Father has spoken out against it. I know that it seeks to make a god of market forces and elevate greed to a sacrament. It is inhuman and unchristian. But so far, it has been confined to Europe and Knootoss' colony in South America. What does it have to do with us?"

"The lieutenant governor is of the opinion that a circle of businessmen here in the Confederation are dabbling in this cult and trying to draw others into it. He says that it seems at least some of his colleagues in every state - except here in Saxmere and in Southland - are, at least, speaking fondly of the 'power of the Market' and the glowing example of the DDR..."

"Hmmm... At least those fundamentalists in Southland are smart enough not to fall for this. But, if it is in every other state. That is troubling..."

"There are very few actual fundamentalists in Southland... lots of Baptists, Methodists and Excalbians... But, the point is that it seems this cult is here."

"Then, we have no choice but oppose it, Patrick."

"I know, Father Sean. But, if I speak out too soon, before any of them go public, doesn't it make me look like I'm jumping at shadows?"

"True. True. But there are other ways to fight it. Use influence, network. Just as they, undoubtedly, are."

"Our community is small, you know that. There are barely any Catholics outside of Saxmere..."

"You were always the ecumenical minded one, Patrick. Go beyond our boundaries. And, if this cult is here, it will threaten more than just the faithful in the C.S.S.; it will spread over all the isles, if unopposed. You should speak with Cardinal Friesz in Excalbia, as well. Tell me, have you already raised it with the council of bishops?"

"No, but there is a meeting in just a few days. I plan to raise it then. In a closed session."

"Good, good." The abbot looked out his window. "We shall have to pray about this, will we not?"

A subtle little TAG... *sighs* Nevermind...

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

The limo cruised into the driveway of the glass and steel skyscraper. The driver jumped out of the car and opened the rear door. Janice Cauna stepped out, straightened her jacket and turned back towards the car. "Mr. Turley, welcome to C.E. corporate headquarters. Chairman Hayes is waiting for you, I'll take you up his private elevator to his suite."

Turley steps out of the car and follows Janice through the glass doors and across the marble floor to an elevator with a polished golden door.

Cambera, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Bishop Patrick Kiernan sat in a quite corner of the hospitality suite at the Cambera Sheraton and Towers nursing a glass of red wine. The Confederation Conference of Bishops was meeting there; Cambera, after all, was the seat of the nation's only Archbishop. A few other people - a couple of bishops, a few other religious, and two or three lay leaders - were relaxing in the lounge after a long day of meetings. Kiernan, however, was keeping to himself.

A change in the tone of the conversation around him caused Kiernan to look up. He spotted the Archbishop walking towards him and started to rise, but the Archbishop motioned for him to keep his seat.

Archbishop Gregory Thrain eased himself into the chair across from Kiernan. "I heard that you wanted to talk with me, Patrick."

"Yes, Excellency..."

"Patrick, Patrick, there is no need for such formality..."

"I'm sorry, it is just that the matter is so grave..."

"I can tell, you've been troubled since you arrived. Tell me."

"Ex... Gregory, how much do you know about the Order of the Invisible Hand?"

The Archbishop's face darkened. "So, the cancer is spreading..."

"Gregory?"

"We shouldn't talk here. We need to speak with Bishop Riekstins from Cesis. Come, we will find him and retire to my rooms."

The Archbishop rose and Kiernan followed.

* * *

A few minutes later, Kiernan was sitting on a chair in the Archbishop's suite. The Archbishop sat in well-cushioned recliner and another bishop, a tall, balding man with a trim beard, sat on the sofa.

"Patrick, you mentioned the Order of the Invisible Hand," the Archbishop said to Kiernan before turning to the other man. "Bishop Riekstins has also raised this issue with me. Peter?"

"Yes, we have heard rumors in Trondgard that some businessmen and politicians have started meeting in secret. It is like they have some kind of secret society. The rumor is that they are members of the Order. But they are so closed mouthed, it is hard to know."

Kiernan nodded. "Our lieutenant governor in Saxmere told me the same thing. Except he knew for certain that it was the Order. It seems that some of his colleagues from other states have... suggested... that he read certain books. Hinted at invitations to certain meetings..."

"Hmm. This is all very, very troubling," the Archbishop said gravely. "Any thoughts on what to do?"

"Well," Kiernan spoke cautiously, "I spoke with Father Abbott Sean... He suggested, and I agree, that we reach out to other religious leaders, especially in Southland, where the cult seems to have gained no hold, and to our brothers in Excalbia..."

The Archbishop nodded gravely. "I agree. After this meeting, Patrick, I want you to go on my behalf to Southland. I know the Excalbian Chief Bishop there - Bishop Aigars Ormann - you can call him and see if he and his brothers have heard anything of this."

"Yes, Excellency."

The Archbishop smiled at the slip in using his title. Appropriate, he mused, considering that it sounded like an order. "Good. And once you let me know what you find out, I may just make a quick trip to Excalbia to see Cardinal Friesz..."

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Having finished dinner with his Knootian friend - Mr. van Moorsel - and seen him out, John Hayes retired to the sitting room of his private suite atop the CE building. He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down with a nice cognac to await his next guest.

Hayes didn’t have to wait long. He had barely taken a few sips of his drink when the door to sitting room opened and his attractive assistant, Janice Cauna, walked in the guest.

Hayes sat down his glass and walked towards Cauna and the youngish man. He extended his hand to the man. “John Hayes, Chairman of Confederated Enterprises. Welcome to the C.S.S., Mr. Turley.” Then, turning towards Janice, the older man nodded. “Thank you, that’ll be all Ms. Cauna.”

“Good night, sir.” Janice nodded and turned towards Turley. “And good night, Mr. Turley. You have my number…”

Hayes motioned for Turley to take a seat and poured him a cognac.

“So,” the Chairman said taking his seat, “I am pleased to finally meet you, Turley. I had almost given up hope that anyone in the Dominion would resist the false lure of mercantilism or socialism; the two seem to be joined in a struggle to the death.

“I have heard of your interest in the Invisible Hand and in a new direction for Upper Virginia from our Knootian friends. So, what can do to profitably assist you in your noble endeavor?”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Turley took the Chairman’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Forrest Turley. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hayes.”

Then, after the pretty redhead said good night, Turley smiled and nodded in her direction. “Good night and thank you,” he said softly.

Turley followed Hayes to comfortable sofas and took his seat. He then joined Hayes in a sip of cognac.

“I am afraid that you are mostly correctly about the Dominion, Mr. Hayes. Most of my colleagues have grown fat and lazy in the military’s mercantilist economy and comfortable with its illusory privileges. Even more unfortunate is the fact that many of those who initially joined me in opposing General Altman’s dictatorship have turned to the pipe dreams of socialism as the cure for our nation’s ills.” Turley sighed deeply and took a long slow drink.

“As for your assistance, to be frank, what I most need is to know how you’ve established your network here. How you found followers and whether your organization can help me establish my own organization in the Dominion.” Turley smiled. “As for the profit in it, you and your people will certainly gain from an improved economic relationship with a new Dominion.”

Hayes leaned back and smiled. “Persistence, patience and knowing how to appeal to each man’s – or woman’s – own self-perception were the keys to my success in growing the Order’s following here in the C.S.S.” Hayes waved his hand in a circle. “Some, like us, are almost born to see the inherent logic, fairness and justice of the unfettered Market and in its ability to allocate all resources towards their most useful ends.” Hayes shrugged and gestured towards the windows. “Others have in-grained in them false notions about the supposed values of compassion, patriotism or egalitarianism. These people need to be reached through those values. Is compassion best served by giving a coin to a beggar who will then spend it to deepen his own misery and foul the landscape or by allowing industry free reign to create jobs and wealth – giving that beggar opportunities for honest work – and in allowing corporations the unfettered ability to research new medicines that could cure the ails of many – including the beggar? Is there any difference between you handing that beggar a coin to be wasted and the government taking it from you or a corporation to give to him?” Hayes’ smile broadened. “In the end, it is the power of our message that wins people over.

“However, I understand that you may not have time for the patient approach or to go alone. I have been thinking. We have followers in the Department of Commerce’s Trade Promotion Service. I could see to it that they come to the Dominion on assignment and make them available to assist you. What do you think?”

“That would be very helpful and productive, Mr. Hayes,” Turley nodded. “I will arrange for them to meet with me and few colleagues who should be open to the Order’s logic after their arrival.”

New Cambridge, Sovereign State of Southland, C.S.S.

Bishop Aigars Ormann casually straightened the books and magazines on his coffee table as he waited for his secretary to show in his visitor. While the Chief Bishop of the Excalbian Church in the Confederation certainly knew Archbishop Thrain, he did not know him closely, so it had been a surprise when leader of the nation’s Catholics had called him asking for this meeting.

The door to the bishop’s study opened and Mrs. Krause stepped in. “Your Grace, your visitor is here…”

“Please show him in,” Ormann said standing and straightening his collar and the cross around his neck.

Bishop Patrick Kiernan stepped through the door and nodded. “Your Grace,” Kiernan said extending a hand.

“Your Grace,” Ormann smiled taking the other bishop’s hand. “But, please, call me Aigars or we shall never get a chance to walk for want of ‘your gracing’ ourselves all night!”

Kiernan smiled and nodded. “Of course, Aigars. And call me Patrick.”

“Please, Patrick, have a seat.” The bishop gestured to a comfortable chair. “Do I detect a Northeastern accent? Archbishop Thrain didn’t tell me much about you…”

“Yes, I am a native of Saxmere and now have the privilege of serving our Lord there as Bishop of Umbria.”

“Ah,” Ormann sighed, “Umbria. The Monastery of St. Columba is there, isn’t it? Quite lovely…”

“So, you’ve visited the monastery?”

“Yes, spent a week there on a personal retreat as a student…”

Kiernan paused an uncomfortable few seconds to wait out any additional small talk.

Sensing his impatience, Ormann placed a serious expression on his face. “So, I gather that you’ve come all the way to Southland for something a bit more pressing than discussing the harsh beauty of the Saxmeren coast…”

“Yes,” Kiernan said pouncing on the opportunity, “yes, I did. Tell me, Aigars, do you know of the Order of the Invisible Hand?”

Aigars sank back in his chair and his eyes widened. “I had hoped it was more myth than reality and that its presence in the Confederation the stuff of urban legend. But, I take it from the tone of your question that this isn’t the case…”

“No.” Kiernan shook his head, “unfortunately it isn’t. I, and the Bishop of Cesis, along with a few others in the Church, have heard from a small number of faithful Catholic politicians and businessmen that the Order is spreading here among the business class and the politicians. Except in Saxmere and here in Southland…”

Ormann nodded. “People have brought similar rumors to me. But, we are in no position to well judge. In numbers, the Church of Excalbia here is now even smaller than the Catholic Church. People have turned away from us to secularism. I fear they are easy prey for the Order…”

“But,” Kiernan interjected, “the other Protestants… there are still many, many more of them…”

“Oh, here in Southland, of course. The Baptists, Methodists, and a host of others. Mostly conservative and evangelical. But, even their numbers and influence have diminished elsewhere. Especially in the big cities of New Virginia and Trondgaard…”

“Do their leaders know of the Order?”

“I don’t know…”

“Could you arrange a meeting?”

“Well,” Ormann shifted uncomfortably, “some of them are suspicious of the Catholic church. For that matter, some of them are suspicious of us! But, yes, I think it can be arranged…”

“Good. Thank you… brother.”

Citadel Excalbia, Capital of the Holy Empire of Excalbia

Archbishop Gregory Thrain, though of course traveling with the knowledge and consent of the Vatican and the knowledge of his fellow bishops in the Confederation, was trying to pass through the airport unobtrusively. He had packed his collar and cap and was traveling in a plain shirt and pair of khakis. After arriving on Confederation Air flight 003 from Cambera, he cleared customs easily – no visa was needed to enter the Empire from the Confederation, fortunately.

As Thrain entered the arrivals hall he looked around. Not seeing anyone to meet him – he hadn’t asked for anyone to do so, after all – he headed for a taxi stand.

Slipping into the first taxi, Thrain handed the driver a piece of paper. “Could you take me to this address?”

The driver seemed to look at it oddly for a moment.

“It should be,” Thrain said hopefully, “near the Catholic cathedral…”

“Ah! Got it. OK,” the driver said as he popped the car into gear.

The Archbishop's Palace, Citadel Excalbia...

As the taxi approached the cardinal’s residence, a young deacon serving as one of office clerks was dispatched to the door to greet the arriving archbishop from the C.S.S. The deacon opened the door, greeted the casually dressed Church leader and escorted him to the cardinal’s suite of offices.

John Cardinal Friesz felt as if had aged two decades in a his brief tenure as archbishop of Citadel Excalbia and as the nation’s ranking Catholic official. Cardinal Walsh had always worn the responsibilities of the job so lightly that he made it seem far easier than it was…

Friesz’s thoughts were interrupted when his long-time secretary, James Pavlis, opened the door. “Your Eminence, Archbishop Thrain is here…”

“Ah,” Friesz smiled and pushed the stack of papers away, happy for the excuse to take a break, “please, please send him in.” Friesz crossed to the door as the archbishop entered. The cardinal was momentarily surprised to see the archbishop so casually and informally dressed, but then he remembered that many customs were far less formal in the Confederation than in the Empire. “Your Grace,” Friesz smiled, “welcome to Citadel Excalbia. Please, give your jacket to James and take a seat. How may I help you and the brethren in the Confederation?”

Citadel Excalbia, Holy Empire of Excalbia

"Your Eminence," Archbishop Thrain said as he greeted the cardinal. He removed his jacket and handed it to the secretary. "Thank you, sir," he said as the secretary nodded and left.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Thrain said as he lowered himself into the chair the cardinal had indicated. "It has been many years since I've been to Excalbia. The Church seems to be prospering here. And how is Cardinal Walsh? I last saw him years ago during a short visit."

Thrain played absentmindedly with the cuff of his shirt. "I am sorry to cut so quickly through the pleasantries, Eminence, but the matter I've come to discuss weighs heavily on my heart.

"I know that you are aware of the Order of the Invisible Hand. It has now emerged in the Confederation among our business class. Two of my bishops have independently been warned by faithful politicians that this -- pseudo religion -- is spreading rapidly in almost every state, save Saxmere, where the Church still wields a degree of influence among the people, and in Southland, where the evangelical protestants wield similar influence. It is already corrupting some of our state governments and schools, and I fear, will soon corrupt the confederation government, the school curriculum standards and the media.

"I have sent Bishop Kiernan to Southland to rally opposition to the Order among the Protestants, but I fear too many in the Confederation have already abandoned faith for materialism and modernism..."

New Hope, Capital of the Sovereign State of Deandra, C.S.S.

Thomas Caine, dressed in a trendy, bright blue suit smiled as the three delegates entered the private dining room he had rented. He stood and nodded. "Congressman Summers, Mrs. Adeyole, Mr. Brinks," he said slowly as he shook hands with each person, "thank you for coming. Please have a seat."

As the three say, Caine continued, "I am especially grateful to Mr. Brinks for arranging for me to meet with the three of you."

Anton Brinks, chairman of the local entrepreneurs alliance and secret organizer for the Order of the Invisible Hand in Deandra, smiled. "Thank you for coming to see us, Mr. Caine. I am sure you know Mrs. Ruth Adeyole," Brinks gestured towards the well dressed and distinguished looking middle aged lady beside him, "she is the CEO of New Hope Consumer Products Group, one of the largest companies in Deandra and a major contributor to both the Liberty Party and the Democratic Party..."

"That's quite an ideological spread," Caine interjected.

"Good business," the woman laughed, her neatly braided cornrows of black and white hair gently swaying as she did, "Liberty is good for my business and the Democrats appeal to some of the more liberal yearnings of my employees, so nominally supporting them is good for business, too! And isn't that what this Order of yours is all about, Mr. Caine, doing what makes economic sense?"

"It's a little more complicated than that," Caine smiled, "but that is an important part of the essence. And I hope to convince you that supporting me will make good economic sense."

"Anton has already convinced me," Adeyole said, turning to the small man beside her, "it is our esteemed Congressman who isn't sure..."

Caine turned and looked at Congressman Joseph Summers. He was a small man, with knots of dark curls clustered in patches atop a balding head. He looked completely unimpressive. Yet, he was the most powerful politician in Deandra. Three-time governor. Two-time delegate to the House of the States and now a member of the House of Representatives. A lesser job, one would have thought, had he not been named Chairman of the powerful Rules committee as soon as he walked in the door. He was also, nominally, a New Liberal, but his influence in Deandra crossed party lines.

"So, how can I convince you, Congressman?"

Summers steepled his fingers and leaned his elbows on the edge of the table. "Although we are far more open-minded than the folks in Southland, Mr. Caine, many of our people are still quite religious. And, while we are not as industrialized as some of the cities in New Virginia and Trondgard, we have many blue-collar workers for whom the Democrats and New Liberals hold great appeal. So, tell me how my support of you and your Order will not bounce back and bite me in the rear."

Caine leaned forward, his face mirroring Summers' own seriousness. "I can't make you promises, Congressman. But, let me suggest this - good Entrepreneurs look at the world as it is and make their decisions based on facts and logic of the Market, with the assurance that the Economical decision is the right one and will yield its return. The facts you face, sir, are these - the C.S.S. stands at a crossroads. Either we will begin to drift into welfarism, as the Excalbians have begun to do, or into mercantilism, as the Dominion has. The governments of the states are beginning to be too involved in private Economic matters and the Confederation government is too weak to prevent it. This may hold some short-term appeal for some people, but think of the impact of either path - a lessening of opportunity, a decline in jobs and individual welfare, creating an either greater need for State welfare, further deepening the crisis.

"The alternative is to embrace the Market and let everyone make the decisions that fit their own best interest. In that way, we will maximize the welfare of the greatest number of individuals by ensuring growing opportunities in a growing economy. We will also step boldly into a new relationship with like-minded nations expanding our economic opportunities abroad and freeing us from our co-dependence with our dysfunctional neighbours.

"Now, Congressman, which path will most benefit your people? How does absolute freedom of opportunity harm any of your religious citizens or your productive workers? And, for yourself, if a new Order is rising, do you wish to be a part of it, or left out from it?

"As for your implied concern that your unspoken support would leak out, I assure you that everyone at this table, yourself included, have kept far bigger secrets for far longer than this one need be kept."

The Congressman thought for several minutes, then nodded. "I will speak with my contacts on the other side of the aisle. I will see to it that our delegates to the Liberty Party convention vote with you."

"Thank you. You won't regret it."

Archbishop's Palace, Citadel Excalbia..

Cardinal Friesz nodded gravely as he listened to Thrain. "Certainly, you have taken the right steps by trying to organize a united front against this idolatrous cult. As the Holy Father wrote to the bishops in Knootoss some time ago, this is pernicious attempt to elevate man in isolation from the Creator. We must resist it wherever it appears."

The cardinal bent over, as if pressed by weights, and seemed to think, or perhaps pray. "However, you must be careful not to fall into the trap of conspiring to defeat a conspiracy. Remember, our Lord said, 'men love darkness instead of light because their deeds are evil' and, as St. Paul wrote, 'what fellowship can light have with darkness?' The Order does its work in secret and in conspiratorial meetings because its deeds are dark and it wishes to hide them. Our opposition, my brother, must be open and in the light."

Friesz waved his hand as if to ward off any objection. "Now, I know that people have spoken with you in confidence and that you must respect that. But, you - all of us - need to speak out openly against the Order and meet openly to organize against it. Remember that our message is that our Lord is 'the light of the world' and that whoever follows him 'will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.' Against that truth, their false message will never stand.

"Now, let us plan that," Friesz looked over at the calendar on his wall, "next Sunday, we will encourage priests across the Excalbian Isles to speak out against the Order. Encourage the Protestants in the Confederation to do the same, and I will speak with the head of the Excalbian Church and encourage them to follow suit. I shall also, certainly, see to it that word is sent to Cardinal Walsh so that he might share this development with the Holy Father and Curia. And take heart!"

Cape Liberty, Sovereign State of New Virginia, C.S.S.

The logo of CBN – the Confederation Broadcasting Network – shimmers above the image of a C.S.S. flag ruffling in the breeze. The words, “Election Decision,” shimmer into view just before the entire image dissolves into the face of a handsome man in a blue jacket and yellow tie seated at desk overlooking an arena.

“Good evening. We start our election coverage tonight with a stunning development here at the Liberty Party’s Convention in Cape Liberty. What was to be a pro forma roll call vote of delegates to nominate President Ilmars Alderson for re-election erupted into pandemonium when a majority of uncommitted delegates from Deandra, Trondgard, Alud and New Virginia withheld their votes from President Alderson. Here to explain what is going on is our expert, former Congressman Leo Stikles. Mr. Stikles?”

“Yes, Dennis,” the balding man said to the anchor as the video cut to his face, “thank you. As you know, under convention rules, if the first ballot fails to select a nominee, they have to keep calling for new ballots until someone wins the required number of delegate votes. So far, there have been ten ballots. In each case, enough uncommitted delegates have chosen not to vote for President Alderson that he has been unable to gain the supermajority – 60 percent of the delegate votes are required – needed to win the nomination. This next vote will be interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well, after ten votes, all the delegates are released from their primary pledges to support a specific candidate. So, on this upcoming vote, every one is free to vote for anyone they choose…”

“Any idea who they might vote for?”

“I’ve heard the name Tom Caine bandied about. He’s a successful businessman, civic leader and has been active in party politics for a while, but has never run for any office…”

* * *

Ryan Endelman paced nervously in front of the widescreen TV. The President’s chief of staff wore a somber expression bordering on agony. Periodically, he turned to cast a sharp glance at Shannon Coles who sat nervously on the edge of a large sofa. Across the room, the First Lady sat in an armchair, her face a mixture of sadness and shock. For his part, the President looked calm, sitting back on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table, his tie loosened and a drink in his hand.

“What’s the tally, Shannon?” The President asked between sips of strong whiskey.

“So, far you have, Mr. President, you have 4892 votes and Caine has 5929…”

“Shh,” Endelman interrupted, “they’re calling the vote from Deandra…”

On the TV, the head of the state delegation stood and read out the delegation’s vote total.

“Oh… my…,” Endelman murmured, “on thousand six hundred and seventy two votes for Caine…”

“Mr. President,” Shannon, despite her true loyalties, felt the words choke in her mouth, “that gives Caine over 7,600 votes. Enough for the nomination…”

Everyone in the room turned to watch the President. For a moment he didn’t move. “Mr. President,” Endelman said, “we’ll challenge this to the national committee. It looks like someone interfered with our delegates. We’ll go to the courts. We’ll…”

“We’ll do nothing, Ryan.” President Alderson set his empty glass on the table beside us. “The people want Caine, so they’ll get Caine. And get what they deserve, I suspect. Prepare a statement congratulating Caine and pledging our cooperation in the campaign. The usually BS…” The President stood and walked silently into the bedroom.

* * *

Moments later, a smiling Tom Caine, dressed in a trendy electric blue suit, stood on the podium before the Liberty Party convention.

“My fellow citizens!” Caine’s charisma was magnetic and undeniable. His presence on the podium seemed to evoke more of the feel of a movie idol than a businessman or politician. “Tonight, you have taken the first step in reclaiming for yourselves your freedom. Your freedom to do as you wish with your own minds, your own bodies and your own property. Your freedom to achieve or fail on your own with government interference. Tonight, you have sounded the call for liberation. And I am ready to answer that call! So, I accept your nomination for President of the Confederation. And with your help, our revolution of freedom will be victorious!”

Umbra, Capital of the Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Chill autumn winds blew around the ancient monastery of St. Columba. Inside, an even deeper chill seized the heart of Father Abbot Sean. On the small TV in the corner of his office he and several of his fellow monks watched Tom Caine, a businessman and political novice, accept the nomination of the nation’s ruling party to replace Alderson as President. Even to those who didn’t follow politics, it was obvious that some force was at work behind the scenes to arrange Caine’s nomination. But that realization and the suspicion it would have entailed was lost to the news commentators in the power of Caine’s charm and magnetism.

But, he was not deceived. He saw clearly that the force behind Caine could only be the Invisible Hand.

The elderly abbot found himself fumbling in his brown robes for his rosary. When he found it, he began praying.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

John Hayes stood among friends and followers, and in the company of a one Mr. van Moorsel from Knootoss, in the TV room of his private suite watching his protégé give his acceptance speech. As Caine concluded his remarks, Hayes lifted his glass.

“My friends,” he said joyfully, “to the rise of a new Order in the Confederation!”

Stonebridge, West of Courtland…

Frank Turley, having just recently returned from Europe and the C.S.S., sat in the living room of his spacious and little used mansion in the upscale suburb of Stonebridge. As a businessman and national leader, Turley usually found it more convenient to stay in his penthouse apartment in the centre of Courtland. However, tonight he was glad he had chosen to recover from his travels well away from the city centre.

He sat comfortably, torn between different channels on his satellite TV system. On one channel, a news channel not available to ordinary citizens of the Dominion, he was watching reports of the escalating chaos in the centre of the capital. It seemed as if an invasion or a civil war were taking place. And in the distance, he could hear muffled explosions.

On the other channel, however, he was watching the mounting political drama of the Liberty Party convention in the C.S.S. Flipping between the two, Turley caught Tom Caine’s acceptance at the convention.

So, Turley thought to himself, Hayes pulled it off and stole the nomination for his man. Hopefully, his people will be able to help me pull off a similar feat here. He pulled out a card with the number of the Confederation’s trade attaché printed on it. Turley smiled. As soon as the shooting is over, I’ll have to give him a call. Turley slipped the card back into his wallet and pulled out a book he had just been given on his trip…

In Citadel Excalbia...

Albert Cummings watched the telecast of the Liberty Party’s convention with a growing sense of dread. First, the Empire’s northern neighbor had succumbed to turmoil and civil war and now the Confederation appeared to be headed at least for political turmoil. This was the last thing the Empire needed on its eastern border.

Even more troubling was that it all happened so quickly and easily. This Caine fellow had come from nowhere and had stolen the nomination right out from under Alderson. That told the Minister of State that someone or some organization was manipulating the convention from behind the scenes.

Cummings reached over and picked up the phone. “Lord James?”

“Yes,” the voice on the phone answered.

“This is Cummings at State. Have you seen what’s going on in the C.S.S.?”

“The nomination of Caine? Yes. Quite odd.” Cummings thought he detected a note of concern in the intelligence chief’s voice.

“Indeed. Do your people in Imperial Intelligence have anything on Caine or whoever may be behind him?”

“Very little on Caine himself. Just the public record. But, I plan to have more as soon as possible. Next to the mess in the Dominion, Caine has just become priority number two for us…”

“Good, good. We’ll see if our folks in Jefferson have any contact with them and they have any clue about what is all about.”

“Good idea, Minister. We’ll meet in the morning to discuss further.”

“Very well. Good night, Lord James.”

“Good night.”

* * *

John Cardinal Friesz sat at his desk watching the convention next door in the C.S.S. He couldn’t be sure, but based on what Archbishop Thrain had told him, he had little doubt that the Order of Invisible Hand was behind this somehow. That realization gave the cardinal a greater sense of urgency as he continued writing his episcopal letter for Sunday. He finished the first draft and quickly attached it to an e-mail and sent it to Bishop Gunars Purins, the presiding bishop of the Church of Excalbia. While they might serve God in different churches, Friesz had long ago learned to appreciate Purins’ insights and spiritual zeal. And, making the letter a joint product would give it even more power. At least that was what Friesz was counting on…

On CBN…

A perfectly coiffed woman in a red suit, wearing a serious but not quite grim expression, is on the screen reading the news…

“As aftershocks continue to roll in from Tom Caine’s stunning upset of President Alderson in the Liberty Party convention, it was announced today that Caine has asked Alderson’s campaign manager – Shannon Coles – to organize his campaign. Caine’s spokesman said the surprise candidate was making the move in the name of party unity…”

In Jefferson, Sovereign Sate of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S...

“I feel like a traitor,” Shannon Coles said sincerely, her head bowed and hands crossed in front of her. “But I think it would be in the best interests of the party…”

“And in your own best interests, isn’t that right, Shannon?” Ryan Endelman, the President’s chief of staff, didn’t care that his anger showed through. He was angry and agreed with Coles that she was a traitor.

“Now, now, Ryan,” President Alderson said calmly, “you know Shannon is right. And its not like she has a job anymore anyway…”

“Mr. President!”

“No, Ryan, you’re not going to talk me into staying in the race.” The President stood and offered Shannon his hand. “I think you’re making the right decision, Shannon. But, I think if you’re going it’d be best if you went now.”

Shannon took the President’s hand. “I understand. Thank you, sir. And… and I’m sorry, sir.” Shannon believed in her heart that she had done the right thing throwing the convention to Caine. But, she still had warm feelings towards the President. However, the Order had taught her not to let sentiment stand in the way of the Market’s forces. She had followed her beliefs, but as she walked silently out of the President’s office, she couldn’t help but feel some genuine remorse.

After Shannon had left, Endelman turned towards the President with fire in his eyes. “You have to stay in to challenge that p.o.s., Ilmars!”

“Now, look here, Ryan. I am still the President…”

“Ilmars, you’re not. You’re a lame duck and unless you run, it could be the ruin of the Confederation…”

“Ryan, stop exaggerating. Caine is unknown, but its not like he’s Hitler…”

“But he may be part of the Order of the Invisible Hand…”

“What?” The President was stunned and looked it.

“Or at least a front for them. I think they are behind Caine’s surprise nomination…”

“Why?” The President asked a little more skeptically.

“Well, sir, as you know my political roots are in Southland and I’m hearing that there are a lot of rumors down there…”

“That’s just the same old fundamentalist clap-trap, Ryan…”

“No, sir. It isn’t. Or at least, it isn’t just the fundies. It seems that the Catholic bishop of Umbra went to Southland to meet with the Excalbian chief bishop and a number of Baptist, Methodist and other religious leaders. And, at the same time, Archbishop Thrain flew to Excalbia to meet with Cardinal Friesz…”

“Hmm,” the President said rubbing his chin, “maybe there is something to this. Ryan, find out whatever you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

((OOC: doing a flashback thingy due to delayed posts. Please forgive the long quote.))

Hayes watches the Knootian closely for a moment and sees the man nod, as if urging him to continue.

Hayes pours another drink and hands it to van Moorsel. He passes in front of the windows looking out over the city and turns to face the Knootian. “You may be wondering where the DDR figures into all of this…” Hayes takes a sip of his own drink. “First, once our man in the president’s office, we will make a formal request to sign the KIST. As soon as we do, however, we will be in violation of Excalbia’s exclusion proclamation against the DDR. They will demand that we honor the exclusion and boycott – we will refuse, of course – but then they will likely abrogate our mutual defence treaty and cancel any future arms sales to the Confederation.

“Historically, the Confederation has maintained a small – you might even say miniscule military – we’ve simply found it to be an uneconomic indulgence for us. However, we have to admit that we’ve been able to get by without a military, in part, because of our alliance with our self-righteous neighbor. So, the second thing we would ask from the DDR is a some kind of defence pact and a willingness to sell us sufficient armaments for our own protection. At a fair market price, of course.” Hayes motions for van Moorsel to be seated as a waiter brings out the first course.

Once both men have been served and the waiter has departed, Hayes looks at van Moorsel over a spoonful of soup. “There was one more service we would to procure – if you will – from the DDR. We are certain that opposition will arise once people, especially the churches, the States of Southland and Saxmere and our neighbor, realize that the new government follows the principles of the Order. We will not inherit much of an intelligence service, and information on our enemies’ counterplans would be very useful and we would be very interested in procuring any information that DDR might be able to obtain.”

Van Moorsel nods, having listened all the while as Hayes explained the situation. With the request for help on the table, he slowly nods and lays down his spoon. “I have friends in Economic Affairs, who told me before this meeting that KIST is open for you, as it has always been open to any right-thinking state.”

A frowned formed on his face. “The Order is strongly against this… offensive… boycott because it disrupts Market forces and postpones the forming of The Global Economy.” He pauses briefly, as if to let the significance of it ring. “But in addition to that, getting rid of this boycott will have added value in the political arena. The DDR government is decidedly unhappy with the exclusion proclamation, and any withdrawal of a boycott will not only be reciprocated, but it will be warmly welcomed and rewarded with gestures of equal value. This added political value can, and should, be exploited to further the cause of the Market.”

Hayes nodded, and the two men traded a brief smile.

“As for arms sales, when your other sources break down… well, that would not be a problem either. Where one companies market shrinks, another companies market expands. That is how the Market works. A replacement mutual defence treaty however, is politics and it’ll be a fickle more difficult to get that through. The foreign affairs ministry tends to meddle in foreign affairs even when my friends have made a fair deal. And right now, they have some concerns about moving half-heartedly into the Excalbadian islands when powers such as Pantocratoria have such vested interests. And us moving in combined with a boycott might be seen as the Knootian government trying to spread its influence, in addition to the Market…”

Van Moorsel paused to take this spoon and eat some soup.

“It might be difficult to convince some of the Foreign Ministry folks to go along with sealing a defence pact with a nation that just had the relations with its neighbours worsen considerably, but your candidate will have built that political added value that will make it possible for my friends to push something through. It should be clear however, that we’ll need to move quickly and efficiently. The EIVD can help you. They may not have as many resources, but they are willing to do the job.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.
John Hayes stood among friends and followers, and in the company of a one Mr. van Moorsel from Knootoss, in the TV room of his private suite watching his protégé give his acceptance speech. As Caine concluded his remarks, Hayes lifted his glass.

“My friends,” he said joyfully, “to the rise of a new Order in the Confederation!”

“To the rise of a new Order!”, van Moorsel answered genuinely enthusiastic.

With that, he emptied half of his glass in a single move. His cheeks were slightly flushed from one too many drink, but his eyes sparkled. “Or as we say in my country, ‘Who dares not, wins not’. And my friends, we have dared and won and you will be daring and winning till you have country for yourselves! May the Liberty party and the Market find their way to victory.”

And with that, he poured himself another glass…

KNN World Report – 23:00 News – 23:12
Twelve minutes into the KNN World News, the female black news anchor reading from the autocue arrives at the minor stories. The camera shifts away from her, to a group of firemen in the streets of Amsterdam, holding signs and red banners. Her speech becomes voice-over for the pictures.

“… while individual firefighters continued to protest the cut in pay throughout the day, Labour Unions have submitted to heavy pressure from the provincial authorities to accept the deal.”

The camera shifts back to the studio, with the woman sitting next to a digital map of the Excalbadian Islands, highlighting the C.S.S. A shadow of the confederate flag waves in the background.

“In other news, businessman Tom Caine has been elected as the Liberal Liberty Party’s nominee for President of the Confederation of Sovereign States. The move came as a surprise as he was elected as a candidate over the incumbent president."

The camera cuts to a smiling Tom Caine on the podium before the Liberty Party convention. He begins his speech, but there is no other sound then the news anchors voice.

“In a press conference today, Prime Minister nos Círdan has sent her personal congratulations to Mr. Caine, a surprising move considering Knootian Prime Ministers usually do not take sides in foreign elections, let alone praise nominees for elections. The Office of the Prime Minister was unavailable for comment”

A soft drumroll starts in the background, indicating the near-end of the newsshow.

“We have reports that artillery fire just rocked in downtown BYMD near an ancient cathedral… KNN will be back more on that in a moment. I’m Patricia Kuijl, stay with us.”

OOC: Cast your vote in the C.S.S. election here: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=365657

On the KNN World Report...

The camera shifts back to the studio, with the woman sitting next to a digital map of the Excalbadian Islands, highlighting the C.S.S. A shadow of the confederate flag waves in the background.

“In other news, businessman Tom Caine has been elected as the Liberal Liberty Party’s nominee for President of the Confederation of Sovereign States. The move came as a surprise as he was elected as a candidate over the incumbent president."

The camera cuts to a smiling Tom Caine on the podium before the Liberty Party convention. He begins his speech, but there is no other sound then the news anchors voice.

“In a press conference today, Prime Minister nos Círdan has sent her personal congratulations to Mr. Caine, a surprising move considering Knootian Prime Ministers usually do not take sides in foreign elections, let alone praise nominees for elections. The Office of the Prime Minister was unavailable for comment”

A soft drumroll starts in the background, indicating the near-end of the newsshow.

In Jefferson, Sovereign Sate of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S...

Ryan Endelman flicked off the TV and tossed the remote control on to the sofa in his small, but tasteful, office. He turned and looked at the President. "Satisfied now, Mr. President?"

President Alderson sat sleeves rolled up and tie loosened in a corner chair. While he had a much more spacious office, he had always come to his chief of staff's cozier confines when he needed to think and talk.

Alderson watched the blank screen for a moment then turned to Endelman. "Rally the troops, Ryan. Its a lost cause, but we'll go for the write-in vote. I don't want to see the C.S.S. turn into a DDR protectorate..."

In New Cambridge, Sovereign State of Southland, C.S.S...

Bishop Ormann turned off his TV and shook his head. He picked up the phone and dialed the mobile phone given him by his new friend and ally.

"Hello?"

"Bishop Kiernan?"

"Aigars! So did you see the news from Knootoss?"

"I did." Ormann sighed. "I think we are right then, Patrick. I received a letter today from Presiding Bishop Purins. We will all read it on Sunday."

"I received the same letter from Cardinal Friesz. Archbishop Thrain is asking every parish to read it on Sunday as well."

"I hope it makes a difference."

Excalbia Cathedral, Citadel Excalbia…

As the final echoes of the hymn faded, Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins walked slowly towards the raised pulpit. The bishop wore a black robe and a white and gold chasuble with a red stole and a large golden cross around his neck. He climbed the short, spiral stairway up to the pulpit and opened a large Bible. He looked over the large congregation in the great cathedral with a solemn expression.

“Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world. This is how you can recognize the Spirit of God: Every spirit that acknowledges that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, but every spirit that does not acknowledge Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you have heard is coming and even now is already in the world.

“So wrote the Apostle John to the early Church when it was beset with heresy and under threat from a hostile world. His words echo through the millennia to us today in the Excalibian Isles. For now we, too, are faced with false prophets who seek to ascribe the works of a personal, loving God to impersonal, mindless economic forces.

“This false creed, which Leo XIV of the Catholic Church has rightly labeled a pernicious error, elevates mathematical models and economic theories to the level of the divine. This worship of an impersonal, unfeeling market esteems human reason over the wisdom of the Creator. Yet, the prophet Isaiah wrote, Who has understood the mind of the LORD, or instructed him as his counselor? Whom did the LORD consult to enlighten him, and who taught him the right way? Who was it that taught him knowledge or showed him the path of understanding?

“Make no mistake – no creation is wiser than its creator. And, we – my brothers and sisters – are God’s creation. No human wisdom, no earthly theory or economic model is greater than God’s wisdom as He has chosen to reveal it to us through His prophet, His word and His Son. Worshiping the market, then is idolatry at most flagrant.

“And, this substitution of human wisdom for divine law, serves to justify all manner of wickedness. Greed. Selfishness. Dehumanization – regarding our fellow beings as mere inputs into a great economic machine. It also justifies hedonism and a nihilistic disregard values and morals in pursuit of material satisfaction.

“Our Lord Jesus said, I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him. Do not allow yourselves to lose your way and lose sight of the Father by being seduced by the false prophets of the so-called Invisible Hand. And pray – earnestly and fervently – for our brothers and sisters in the Confederation, where this pernicious error has already taken root and even now is seeking to influence their elections.

“May the Lord be with you. Grace and peace.”

In the Catholic Cathedral of St. Mary, John Cardinal Friesz stands in his red robe and vestments and reads an almost identical homily. Across the Holy Empire, in both Catholic and Excalbian churches priests and bishops stand and read the sermon. Many other clergy deliver similar sermons. The scene is repeated in much of the Dominion of Upper Virginia and, of course, through out the Confederation of Sovereign States.

Circulated amongst Order of the Invisible Hand followers, that Monday.

The workings of the Market are based upon undeniable reality. While religious explanations of Market processes are considered to be deep by some, the truth is that they are not even superficial. And, again, enemies of the Market use superficial lies to spin wheels of confusion and fear for the Sovereign peoples eyes, to pleasantly deny reality for some ‘better’ world and to deny the Market for their power. Those who have followed the old powers have to think clearly. To admit to a belief merely because it is a custom means to be dishonest, cowardly, lazy! Can intellectual dishonesty, cowardice and laziness really be the preconditions for morality in the Confederacy?

The Old Order used its monopolistic influence last Sunday, ‘permitting’ free agents to seek beauty only in the “morally” good. This narrow definition of these Moral Monopolist accounts for you having found so little of it, while still having sought about for these imaginary beauties without backbone! Those who rejoice in the possibilities of the Market enjoy a hundred kinds of happiness of which the ‘virtuous’ of the Old Order have no inkling.

For those who have competed for the Market in other nations, these spinning wheels come at no surprise. A New Order is always branded ‘evil’ by the Moral Monopolists, the new Order being that which wants to conquer its Moral Market and overthrow the old boundary markers and the old pieties. In the fight for the Churches market share, only that which is old is called “good”. The “good” men are in all ages those who dig the old thoughts, digging deep and getting them to bear fruit - the farmers of the spirit. But eventually all land is depleted, and the forces of the invisible hand must inevitably bring the ploughshare of the New Order.

The New Order needs not fear the old. Whoever has overthrown an existing law of custom has always first been accounted a bad man, but when the law cannot afterwards be reinstated and this fact was accepted, the predicate gradually changed; - history treats almost exclusively of these bad men who subsequently became good men!

The philosophy of the Old Order has, with paltry evasions, always avoided investigation of the origin and history of the moral sensations, has always sought to work its way around the Market with clever tricks. The consequences are now very clearly apparent: the errors of the greatest philosophers have their point of departure in a false explanation of certain human actions and sensations, explanations outside the Market. Thus, false ethics are erected, religion and mythological monsters are then in turn called to buttress it, and the shadow of these dismal spirits in the end falls even across physics and the entire perception of the world.

Market forces will bring prosperity, and with prosperity they will bring about an end to that which is false.


((Some old themes, I know, but the situation is similar. :p ))

On CBN, Newsday With Colin Quinn...

The silver-haired anchorman, dressed in a white shirt and bow tie, is seated in the center of a crescent shaped desk. He leans over on his elbows towards a young, friendly looking man in a tan suit.

"And what about yesterday's sermons across the nation and indeed across the Isles? They seemed to be talking about you and suggesting that there are unseen forces working behind your candidacy..."

The smiling man chuckled and shook his head gently. “It is a sad state of affairs when our religious leaders give in to the conspiracy theory mindset. They might as well have suggested that space aliens had landed and were orchestrating my election in order to take over the world. Or that Elvis is living in my basement…”

“But what about this Order of the Invisible Hand?”

“Well, Colin, as far as I know, the Order is a group of men and women dedicated to rationalism and sound policy economic policy. They oppose superstition and fear and encourage people to act in their own best interests. And, in the end, isn’t that what’s best for society? Frankly, I don’t understand why so many religious people oppose such views. I’m not a proponent of the Order, but I have a hard time seeing anything about them that is worthy of condemnation.”

“Well, Mr. Caine, the Archbishop in Cambera, not to mention the leaders of the Excalbian Church, seem to disagree. They see a great deal of immorality in the Order…”

“And what immorality is that exactly, Colin? The fact that they don’t cower before an angry god? Really, if god is all-powerful, and if their faith is based on facts and truth, then why are they so angry at the idea of rational inquiry and deciding things on a rational basis? I certainly think that the people of the Confederation deserve rational thinking in their President…”

Citadel Excalbia, EBS Studios of the This Morning show

John Cardinal Friesz leaned back in the low armchair and crossed his legs. “Well, Julie,” he said to the amiable and telegenic host, “I know the Order likes to portray themselves as rationalists and cast believers as superstitious bumpkins, but the question of faith and reason isn’t that black and white.”

The cardinal smiled. “There is tremendous evidence that supports the Gospel accounts of our Lord’s life, death and resurrection. These facts – established and supported by reason – help build our faith.

“Now, our faith – in our view – is not judged by our words alone, but by how we live – by how we treat our fellow beings – by the fruit we bear. The Order, we think, should be judged the same way. And how does the Order treat other beings? With cold, calculated, unfeeling greed and selfishness…”

Stonebridge, West of Courtland…

“And this new religion will promote open markets?” Marcus Poole looked down at the book with confusion on his face.

“No, no, no,” Frank Turley shook his head at the young CEO of SysDim, “first, it isn’t a religion. It is a commitment to rational thought and clear thinking. And, the realization that the only rational explanation of the order that exists in the world is the workings of the Market. The problems we face, such as the military dictatorship, revolution and civil war that we see here in the Dominion, are all the results of interference with the normal and efficacious functioning of the Market.

“If every actor in the system simply follows the logic of rational self-interest, then, the Invisible Hand will allocate resources to their most useful ends and the greatest number will receive the greatest benefit.”

Elizabeth Pilmana, CFO of NAD – one of Turley’s companies – nodded as her boss spoke. “That all sounds… so logical. Why are so many people opposed to the Order?”

Turley looked around the small gathering in his living room. “Well, it requires giving up a lot of crutches. Religion. Charity. Social engineering. Political power for its own ends. At lot of reasons.”

Poole looked up at Turley. “So, you think this,” he waved the book in the air, “will topple Atlman and bring us to power in the Dominion?”

Turley shook his head. “No. Others will topple General Altman. But this,” Turley held up his copy of the book, “will help us win the war of ideas after the dictator falls…”

In the dinning room of a large, well appointed house in the suburbs of Jefferson a small group of nervous men and women sat drinking coffee and pouring over poll results.

"This is unacceptable," John Hayes, the powerful CEO of CE, Inc., said as he threw a piece of paper across the table.

"But," Shannon Coles offered hesitantly, "it is public opinion..."

"Complaining about it certainly won't change things," Tom Caine, the Liberty Party candidate for President, said as he stood and stretched. "No one could have foreseen the popularity of the leftist candidates. They barely have had any seats in the Congress and now they're turning out to be a bigger challenge that Alderson!" Caine paced about the room. "Shannon, do you have any ideas?"

Shannon looked nervously over at her colleague. "Rihards does have an idea. It is... somewhat unorthodox..."

"Let's hear it," Hayes said.

"Well, Mr. Hayes," Rihards Krauklis, a young executive for one of CE's media houses and a member of the Order, leaned forward, "the working class is embracing the left's pie-in-the-sky promises of higher wages, social benefits and the such. And despite our best efforts in the media, it is hard to convince the workers that such government give-a-ways will hurt them in the end by causing Market distortions that would drive our corporations to ruin or out of the Confederation..."

"I know," Hayes said angrily, "people only see what is front of them at the moment, and right now we are prosperous..."

"Yes," Krauklis smiled like a shark, "so, we need to give them a preview."

"What?"

"A preview. We create our own Market distortion. Drive down the stock market. Shutter a few factories. Start talking downsizing and recession."

"But," Caine interjected, "that violates our own principles..."

"Yes, Mr. Caine," Krauklis continued, "but we can guarantee that it will get the right spin in the media and will be a vivid lesson in just what the left's policies will do. We will bill it as Market panic due to fears of a leftist victory..."

"Yes, yes," Hayes smiled, "and a brief disruption in the current Market that will pay great dividends in the future is perfectly in line with our principles. Let's do it."

Jefferson Daily Dispatch

Stocks Tumble on Fears of Democratic Victory
Special to the Daily Dispatch

(Jefferson, Wednesday) Stocks tumbled a frightening 5 % - down over 600 points – as new polls indicated that Democratic Party candidate Evan Coombs was moving out to a surprising lead over Liberty Party nominee Thomas Caine and incumbent President Ilmars Alderson. The polls raise the real possibility that the Confederation may be nearing its first left-leaning government in history. Business leaders, seeing in that possibility the specter of high taxes, stifling regulation and reduced productivity, are voting with their feet and hedging against a Democratic victory.

Reaction to a possible Democratic victory has not been limited to the stock market. Several major corporations have announced layoffs, as they begin cutting back production and exploring the opportunities for off-shore production. An unnamed industrialist commented that if Coombs won the election and implemented his stated policies, “It would be a disaster for the economy and ultimately would lead to high unemployment and a lower standard of living for the workers.”

Liberty Party presidential candidate, Tom Caine, speaking at a rally at a factory in Altud, said, “If businesses are hedging against a Democratic victory, that is understandable. However, I would implore them to consider the long-term economic vitality of the country and not to take any rash steps that would hurt ordinary, working citizens.”

Sweyn Castle, Citadel Excalbia

Emperor David IV, dressed in a black uniform sweater over a white uniform tunic, leaned on the edge of the table-size tactical display in the center of the castle's Map Room. He looked over at the Director of Imperial Intelligence. "So, we're on the verge of war with Upper Virginia and now you're telling me that the Confederation is falling apart? Is that what you're telling me, Lord James?"

Lord James Reynolds stroked his chin. "That might be a tad pessimistic, your Majesty, but it is essentially correct. Our analysis indicates that the election will be shockingly close and will hand the Confederation its most divided legislature in generations. And, with the major parties advocating very different policies, it is certainly a recipe for political division and strife."

"And what of the rumours of outside influence behind this Mr. Caine? I know that Presiding Bishop Purins believes the Order of the Invisible Hand is behind him and that Cardinal Friesz and church leaders in the Confederation agree."

"Your Majesty, it is hard to say. There are rumours, but no hard evidence..."

"Well, Lord James, you had better have your people get to the bottom of it."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Jefferson Sheraton Hotel and Towers

“Friends, supporters, fellow citizens!” Tom Caine, his voice a hoarse shout above the cheers of the crowd, motioned for applause of the crowd jamming the ballroom. “The results are in. And, while the vote was closer than me might have wanted, we have done it!” The crowd roared again. “Victory is ours. Victory and a new dawn for the Confederation. Tomorrow, we begin reshaping our nation – molding it and forming it into what we all want it to be – a nation where every person is free to go as far as their abilities will carry them in the open Market of ideas and possibilities.”

Caine looked over to a corner where Shannon Coles, Rihards Krauklis, John Hayes, Teun van Moorsel and a few other members of his inner circle stood. “I want to thank all of you. All of you who believed in me and who shared my dream. But I especially want to thank my campaign manager, colleagues and some old and new friends for their support.” Caine turned back to the crowd. “To a new Confederation!”

Jefferson Daily Dispatch

Caine Wins In Close Ballot
Democrats Show Surprising Strength, Dems and SP Make Big Gains In Congress
Special to the Daily Dispatch

(Jefferson, Tuesday) Thomas Caine, businessman and surprise nominee of the Liberty Party, claimed victory last night in the Presidential elections. With over 90 percent of the ballots counted, Caine held 38.5 percent of vote, giving him the lead over each of his rivals. Caine’s come from behind victory makes him the Confederation’s first minority president in more than a generation.

Although he lost the lead that he held in opinion polls as of last week, Evan Coombs, the Democratic Party candidate, gained 20 percent of the vote, tripling any previous showing by a Democratic nominee and giving him second place in the Presidential balloting.

The Democrats’ surprising strength was also reflected in the shake-up in the House of Representatives, where Democrats will almost equal the New Liberals – the former majority party - in Congressional seats, 91 to 95. The Sovereignty Party also polled strongly, also gaining 91 seats. This gives the Liberty Party, with 173 seats – not much changed from their previous showing – a plurality in the house. However, there are already rumours around the capital that the New Liberals and the Democrats will form a coalition to deny Liberty the speakership.

The House of the States, formerly Liberty’s stronghold, is now completely fractured and almost evenly divided.

Despite the mixed results, Caine exulted in victory before cheering crowds in Jefferson. “Victory is ours. Victory and a new dawn for the Confederation. Tomorrow, we begin reshaping our nation,” Caine said to riotous applause. Meanwhile, in Arlington, Evan Coombs told his still optimistic supporters, “This is not the end of our struggle. It is the beginning. Our showing tonight gives us a platform to demand a new Confederation. Not the greedy, unrestrained capitalist utopia that Tom Caine and his cronies envision, but a healthy, reasonable and civilized Confederation that gives a fair share to its workers and to all people!”

(OOC: Yay!)

Citadel Excalbia

Minister of State Albert Cummings fumed and muttered under his breath. "How in the name of the Alsgood did we miss this, Lord James?"

Lord James Reynolds, Director of Imperial Intelligence, shrugged as he stroked his beard. "We can't be so hard on ourselves, Albert. That's the Lady Chancellor's job, after all."

Cummings puffed on an Esperi cigar and smiled. "Was that your attempt at humor, Lord James?"

"We have no sense of humor, Albert. Your know that. But, still it isn't as if we haven't had a full plate, with Upper Virginia. So much of our efforts have been directed there, that I can't say as I'm surprised that something like this was able to fly under our radar, as it were."

"But, the Invisible Hand in the Confederation? That may be as much a threat to the Empire in the long term as the Dominion. What shall we recommend to Lady Freedman? Assuming she doesn't ask the Emperor to dismiss us both..."

"Dismiss you, perhaps, Albert," Lord James smiled slyly, "but don't forget that I have been intelligence for a long time..."

"Another joke, Lord James?"

The spymaster smiled. "As for your question, Albert, the only thing we can recommend is that we devote more resources to our programs in the Confederation and try to find out just what is going on and whether Caine really is a member of the Order or a figurehead..."

Outside Jefferson in the Sovereign State of New Virginia

Tom Caine sat on the edge of his bed, head pounding from the last night’s celebration. Election night hadn’t been a real celebration; he had known that he would have to be up early to the circuit on the morning news shows. No, the celebration had come a couple of days later. The party had lasted a whole day. And now, he was paying the price.

Caine got up and washed and dressed. Then, he wandered into one of the sitting rooms in the large mansion he was using for a retreat. Shannon Coles, his campaign manager, was already curled up in a leather chair with a cup of coffee.

“How’re you doing,” Shannon smiled, “Mr. President-elect?”

Caine chuckled at the title. “I’m doing as well as can be expected. All things considered.”

Caine poured himself a cup of coffee from a carafe on the table and sat in the chair next to Shannon. “So, Ms. Coles, what do we do now?”

“Well,” Shannon said growing serious, “unfortunately, we have a lot of work ahead of us…”

“Yes, yes,” Caine nodded, “the transition, naming a cabinet, the inauguration…”

“More importantly, Tom, we have to deal with a opposition majority in Congress.”

“Hmm. Any suggestions?”

Shannon shrugged. “The usual – we make alliances where we can – some of the Sovereigntyites and Liberal Dems might be persuades to go along with us for this-and-that – threaten and bully where we have to…”

“Any specifics?”

“Not yet.” Shannon sipped her coffee. “Heard from van Moorsel?”

“No. But, I expect to soon. Once I’m sworn in, we’ll sign the KIST and start exploring making our weapons purchases from them. Maybe we can even get some intelligence assistance to make things easier with Congress…”

It would not just be van Moorsel who would contact Tom Caine the following day...

To: Tom Caine [YOUR EYES ONLY]
From: Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, Prime Minister of Knootoss

Friend!

First of all I’d like to congratulate you with your election victory. It is truly good to see a right-thinking man in office in such a valued nation as the Sovereign States and I feel we will be able to cooperate quite well in various matters of importance. While it is unfortunate that your party did not manage to capture a majority I trust you will be able to work around the issues this creates.

First of all, my people in the Economic Affairs department have taken the liberty of preparing a ceremony in The Hague where you can officially sign the KIST treaty. My friends assured me of your interest in this treaty and it would seem to me that delay in signing it would serve no real purpose.

With the treaty signed, we will open our markets to your products and likewise make our production available to you. Notably, some of our defence contractors have expressed an interest in supplying your military with all that you need. I have initiated a fast-track procedure to supply you with the more advanced weaponry and weaponry that has some export limitations (flamethrowers, some types of chemical weapons for defensive purposes).

To further the close bonds between our nations we would like to sign a bilateral treaty that affirms cooperation in the areas of justice, intelligence and international security. This is all in the name of securing a lasting peace, of course. Depending on how you and your friends are inclined we would like to open a more fundamental discussion on how to promote relations between the Confederation and the Knootian Federation (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Knootian_Federation). in its entirety. Especially in the light of changing inter-regional power structures, it would seem wise to move such discussions at an appropriate pace. Should the international situation prove dire, the DDR offers to station mid-range nuclear missiles in your nations to provide a strategic deterrent to those who might want to wish you ill.

Having been elected myself, I understand the burden placed upon a new head of state. To facilitate your new rule, and with the eye on future relations, I offer the resources of the AIVD at your disposal. Should you choose to accept our offer, and I have full confidence that you will, then the DDR will unofficially dispatch several agents in order to cooperate with your personal staff. They and the use of to their technology will be at your full disposal so that you can pass this transitionary period more easily.

Amicably,

Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan
Prime Minister of the Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss

Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan
Prime Minister,
Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss

My Friend,

Thank you for your warm note of congratulations. I genuinely believe that this victory is not mine alone, but is indeed a victory for all people of reason. I hope that my election as President of the Confederation will move our nation away from superstition, paternalism and the economic myths of welfarism and into the mainstream of market-oriented, rationalist nations.

To this end, it will be my pleasure to make my first official act as President a state visit to The Hague to sign the KIST treaty. I hope that during my visit I will be able to meet with you to solidify our friendship and discuss promoting close relations in all regards between the CSS and the Knootian Federation.

I appreciate your offering fast-track procedures to allow us to procure defensive weapons from your arms manufacturers. Seeing as the Holy Empire of Excalbia has taken it upon itself to proclaim an embargo against Knootoss, I believe that the Empire will almost certainly abrogate our long-standing mutual defense pact and deny us access to their weapons suppliers.

While I sincerely appreciate your offer of placing a strategic deterrent in the Confederation, I do not believe it is not now necessary. Although the Empire will bluster and may make veiled threats, I do not believe that the Excalbians have the stomach for out-and-out invasion. Should the situation change, I may wish to reconsider your offer.

I would, however, be interested in exploring bilateral cooperation in the areas of justice, security and intelligence. In the past, the Confederation has had virtually no intelligence gathering capabilities, apart from criminal intelligence gathered on the part of our individual police and sheriff departments. Therefore, I am most interested in any assistance that the DDR might be able to offer in this area. I plan to establish a foreign intelligence office within our Department of Foreign Affairs and would be grateful for your assistance in establishing that office.

Given the closeness of the election and the opposition that we are certain to face – from religious groups, unionists, separatists and Excalbian-sympathizers – domestic intelligence will be critical for our success. I plan to name Rihards Krauklis my Chief of Staff. I place our domestic intelligence operations in his hands. Your AIVD agents would be welcome in the Confederation. They may contact Rihards directly to coordinate their efforts. A number of very enthusiastic, but untrained, young supporters are at their disposal.

Finally, on a personal note, I invite you, or your personal representative, to attend my inauguration in Jefferson.

Warm Regards,
Tom Caine,
President-elect


Ergli, Capital of the Sovereign State of Alud, C.S.S.

John Hayes sat in a quiet corner of the club smoking an imported Esperi cigar and enjoying a nice Scotch whiskey. He looked up as footsteps approached and smiled. “Edgars,” he gestured with his freehand, “join me.”

Edgars Ozolins, newly elected delegate to the House of States, and a leader of the Sovereignty Party took his seat and nodded. “John,” he said a non-committal voice.

Hayes called over a waiter in a starched, white shirt. “What will you have, Edgars?”

“Vodka tonic.”

“Yes, sir,” the waiter said as he bowed and left.

“So, John, what can I do for you and your boy?”

“Quite a lot, I hope, Edgars. The SP did far better than anyone expected. Do you have a plan?”

“Darned if I know, John. We have enough seats that everyone wants to talk to us, but not enough to do anything. Why, what is your boy offering?”

John sipped his drink as the waiter delivered a glass to his companion. Once the waiter was out of earshot, Hayes smiled and leaned forward. “We’ve known each other since we were both working our way up from the trading floor at CE. So, I’m not going to dance around with you, Edgars.

“A new day is dawning in the Confederation. The SP represents a retreat to the past – state sovereignty and states’ rights employed to the good ends of economic prosperity. But, those days are gone. States’ rights might mean good economic policy in Alud and Trondgard, but Jefferson? The unionists and liberals there as likely to implement a welfare state as we are to implement sound policies. Deandra? Already on the road to creating a welfare state. Southland? Saxmere? Left to their own, they’d turn into theocracies. No, my old friend, the only way to implement good policies now is to control the Confederation and strengthen it. Not weaken it.”

“You certainly don’t expect us to do a 180 in our official policies, do you?”

“No, but I do hope that you will support good policies when we put them forth. And, if you do, I can assure you and any of your SP colleagues willing to join our understanding, a place in the new order.”

Ozolins took a long drink. “I’ll think about it, John.”

New Hope, Capital of the Sovereign State of Deandra, C.S.S.

Anton Brinks, Tom Caine’s newly nominated Secretary of Commerce, sat down with his old friends in a back room of a plain, but highly regarded restaurant in downtown. “Mrs. Adeyole, Congressman Summers, good to see you today.”

“Mr. Brinks,” Ruth Adeyole said with a smile. Summers simply nodded.

“Well, Anton, congratulations are in order,” Summers said, “your man won and you have a plumb nomination.”

“Thank you, Joseph. But, I assure you that Tom won’t forget your support. But, I need to ask – the New Liberals have lost quite a few seats to the Democrats. Are you planning a coalition with them to try to take the House?”

Summers smiled a cold, chilling smile. “Indeed. Through my connection with their major financial backer,” Summers nodded towards Mrs. Adeyole, “I have been instrumental in establishing these talks. In fact, in recognition of my leadership, the party may place my name in nomination for the Speakership. However, with the House so fractured, Liberty or Sovereignty could derail any nomination…”

Brinks smiled. “I think Tom could see to it that you win the Speakership. If that is, you could use your influence to help us with our legislative agenda.”

“Depends on how far you plan to go. Anything too radical and I’ll have trouble not opposing it…”

“We understand. But we just want to know we can call on you when we need to do so…”

Summers extended his hand. “I think I can agree to that, Anton.”

Anton shook Summers’ hand, then turned to Adeyole. “And, Ruth, Tom has a special offer for you.”

“Oh, really?” Adeyole said with a dubious smile.

“Yes, he’d like to name you his special advisor for economic development. You’d be in charge of arranging for new businesses to move into economically challenged areas, giving new opportunities to people and, thereby, lessening any movement on their part to agitate for unions, state subsidies, welfare and the such.”

“And, keep them from noticing as you dismantle what there is of a social safety net in this country…”

Anton smiled. “And, of course, your company will be in a good position to benefit from any new business arrangements…”

Adeyole smiled and nodded.

((OOC: Uhm... yeah. You want to RP that? From my part, I'll just do all the stuff you said.))

-----------------
The Hague
Knootoss
-----------------
In the peace palace, preparations were made for a grand ceremony for the signing of the KIST treaty by the Confederation. Tom Caine, the president-elect would be welcomed as soon as the scedule of everyone would allow.

Over the palace flew a plane with yet more people bound for the Excalbadian region; diplomats to secure closer cooperation in a number of areas, contractors to secure defence contracts, corporate representatives that wished to profit from the new business climate that would hopefully arrive, as well as more shadowy figures assigned to assist Rihards Krauklis with setting up and securing the domestic intelligence organisation and transforming it into a body that could effectively assist the new government… and the Order of the Invisible hand.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Captial of the C.S.S.

The skies were clear and blue over Jefferson as the noon hour approached. Dignitaries, foreign diplomats – including a prominent representative from the DDR, who was seated ahead of a perturbed deputy minister from Excalbia – and invited guests crowded the platform below the southern doors of Confederation Capitol building. A few minutes before noon, the massive doors opened and Congressman Joseph Summers, newly elected Speaker of the House of Representatives, lead the VIP delegation down to the platform.

At precisely noon, the Sergeant at Arms appeared at the doors with out-going President Ilmars Alderson and President-elect Tom Caine. The crowd stood as a brass band played ruffles and flourishes followed by the Confederation national anthem.

Once the presidents were seated, a short ceremony began. The new vice president was sworn in, followed by the new president. A murmur went through the crowd as it realized that, unlike past ceremonies, there had been no invocation from a clergyman. The murmur subsided, however, when it became apparent that the president-elect was taking his oath on a Bible and when he concluded his oath with the traditional phrase, “So help me God.”

After taking the oath, President Caine stepped behind the podium and began to speak. “My fellow citizens, today is a joyous day. It marks the rebirth of liberty and reason. No more will this government intrude on the private lives of its citizens. No longer will this government interfere with the right of free individuals and corporations to contract for goods and services. And, no longer will this government stand idly by while the state governments violate the rights and freedoms of the people.

“Today also marks the beginning of new era for the Confederation in world affairs. Today, we step out from the shadow of other, more heavily armed nations, and chart our own course by seeking alliances with other nations equally committed to freedom and economic opportunity.

“Therefore, I am pleased to announce that my first trip as your president will be to The Hague, where I, on behalf of the Confederation will sign the Knootian International Stabilization Treaty…”

Another murmur sweeps through the crowd as Caine continues his speech.

* * *

Several days later, President Caine, Commerce Secretary Anton Binks, Special Advisor Ruth Adeyole and Chief of Staff Rihards Krauklis, board a red and white Airbus A330 for a short flight to The Hague.

The Hague, Knootoss...

Elizabeth Pilmana waited near the VIP terminal for the arrival of the Confederation’s new president. She idly played with her mobile phone, poised to dial the number she’d been given for Rihards Krauklis. The plan was to contact the President’s Chief of Staff and arrange a meeting. At the meeting, she’d present the letter Chairman Turley had given her – she patted the pocket of her suit to make sure the letter was still there. That letter should get her access to President Caine and an opportunity to begin negotiating a ‘new relationship’ between the Confederation and the Dominion. Or at least Turley’s faction…

The Imperial Senate, Citadel Excalbia

The Imperial Senate Chamber was constructed as a semi-circular amphitheater, with the senators seated in tiered layers rising towards a number of large brass and wood doors at the rear of the chamber. Each of the one hundred senators sat in a custom-designed leather armchair. There were no desks, although most chairs had a small table and lamp beside them. In the front of the chamber a single podium stood on a small raised platform. To either side of the podium were long wooden desks occupied by clerks and functionaries. When the senate had opened, those clerks had kept records on parchment with quill pens. Now, the clerks typed on laptop computers, their faces bathed in blue light in the dimly lit chamber.

Behind the podium, on a second smaller platform sat a single wood and leather chair beneath a portrait of the Emperor. Lady Jessica Tagaarth, despite her frail appearance, exuded a commanding presence from that chair. Clad in the traditional blue robes of the senate and bearing the golden necklace of the Speaker of the Senate, her fiery eyes seemed to dance in the low light.

Lady Jessica picked up a small gavel and banged it on the small table beside her chair. “The chair recognizes her Excellency, the Imperial Chancellor.”

Lady Christina Freedman, wearing the blue robes of the senate over a stylish red dress, rose from her chair in the front row and walked slowly to the podium. The Chancellor griped both sides of the podium and looked up at her fellow senators.

“My Lady Speaker, my Lords and Ladies, fellow Senators. By now, all of us have heard the news from Jefferson that President Caine intends to travel to Knootoss to sign the Knootian International Stabilization Treaty. We can only surmise that this is merely the first step in the Confederation’s realignment with Knootoss.

“By signing the K.I.S.T. and entering into a partnership with Knootoss, the Confederation is deliberately and specifically violating our proclamation of a boycott and exclusion against Knootoss.” A murmur of concern washed over the senate. “Therefore, His Imperial Majesty has concluded that the Confederation of Sovereign States has, in effect, violated the terms of the Treaty of Jefferson.” The murmur turned into an angry rumble.

“We have made a formal diplomatic protest to the Confederation. But, that protest has been ignored. And,” Lady Christina paused to allow a sense of anxiety build among the senators, “we have just received word that President Caine is now on his way to Knootoss to sign the K.I.S.T.” Silence dominated the chamber.

“Therefore, my Lady Speaker, I call for a vote of the Senate to declare the Confederation in violation of its treaty obligations and to declare, therefore, that our mutual defense treaty is null and void.”

Lady Jessica banged her gavel three times to quiet the murmur in the chamber. “The Senate shall come to order,” she said. “A vote has been called. The motion before the Senate is to void the Treaty of Jefferson due to the Confederation’s violation of treaty provisions. Is there a second for the motion?”

Minister of State Albert Cummings rose from his seat next to the one vacated by the Chancellor. “I second the motion, Lady Speaker.”

“The motion is seconded. Is there a motion for discussion?” The chamber was silent. “With no motion for discussion, the vote shall be called. Will all those in favor please stand.” Across the chamber senators stood. “Be seated. Those opposed, please stand.” Not a single senator stood. “Those abstaining.” A few senators stood. After a few moments, a clerk stood and handed Lady Jessica a slip of paper. She opened it and read. “The vote is 93 in favor, 3 abstentions and 4 absences. The motion is carried and the Treaty of Jefferson stands null and void…”

-----------------------------------
Vredespaleis (Peace Palace)
The Hague, Knootoss
-----------------------------------

The stage was set for another press ceremony with photo-op opportunities. Confederate representatives, including President Caine, Commerce Secretary Anton Binks, Special Advisor Ruth Adeyole and Chief of Staff Rihards Krauklis all had a version of the treaty in front of them – enframed in expensive green leather.

Brinkhorst, the Knootian minister of Economic Affairs, held the opening speech with Galadriël and the Foreign Affairs minister standing by his side:

“The Knootian people have been making commercial treaties to bring about a more lively exchange of goods since the formation of the original United Provinces in 1581. Foreign trade between KIST signatories has vastly increased since the treaty was conceived, both in volume and in value. I believe that there can be durable economic cooperation on the basis of a new and expanding mutual exchange of goods. As an equal member of this treaty, this government is conscious of its task to co-operate loyally in removing the problems which affect us and other nations.

In recent times a number of new nations have arisen in the NS World which, owing to their incapacity, have been of no economic importance and almost of no political significance. They have brought into the world new tensions, but no new opportunities. The new Confederacy of Sovereign States, however, is a not such a state. The Confederation, our latest signatory who is about to sign the treaty, is a state which, under new leadership, is entering a new era where it steps out from the shadow of other nations, charting its course by seeking alliances with other nations committed to economic opportunity. I ask for your applause.”

The assembled applauded politely, and when the applause had faded Brinkhorst continued:

“KIST is not a stand-still treaty. If it is to be the task of the KIST treaty only to guarantee the existing state of the world and to safeguard it for all time, then we might as well entrust it also with the task of guarding the high tide and the low tide, or of regulating for the future the World Cup soccer results in advance. KIST, to be effective, must become an organ of evolutionary common sense and not remain an organ of inactivity. This is why we have proposed the Fusion community and the virtual market. Its continued existence depends on the extent to which necessary reforms concerning the relations of the participating nations are considered and put into practice. We are witnessing such a change right now, in the Sovereign States.

It is in the interests of all nations that individual countries should possess stable political and economic conditions. This is the most important condition for lasting and solid economic and political relations between the nations.

The vital interests of the different nations must be frankly recognized and the relations of the sovereign nations with one another can only be regulated and solved on a basis of mutual respect and absolute equality.

Knootoss is hoping to have very close and friendly relations with the Confederation of Sovereign States. May we succeed in paving the way for such relations with other potential KIST signatories.”

(skipping ahead a bit)

After the ceremony, Galadriël approached President Caine, putting a hand on his shoulder, noting that Hans van Mierlo would be giving the press conference in response to the end of the treaty of Jefferson and that there would be a small-circle lunch if he would be interested.

--------------------------------
Nieuwspoort press centre
--------------------------------
Statement by Hans van Mierlo, the Knootian minister of Foreign Affairs and Defence, at the press centre:
“When confronted with the end to the treaty of Jefferson by the Imperial Senate of Excalbia, the leader of the Opposition asked me this morning whether I could make a statement as to the Excalbian situation. As I said answered her this morning, there is no serious threat against the Confederation as a result of the Excalbian withdrawal from the Treaty of Jefferson nor any indication that a change of Confederate leadership would make any fundamental difference to the security situation in the region.

As our guests here and the press corps are aware, certain consultations are now proceeding with other Governments. To make the position of the DDR Government perfectly clear even before those consultations are concluded, I would like to inform you that in the event of any action of economic, political or military nature which clearly threatened Confederacy, the DDR Government would feel themselves bound at once to lend the Confederate Government all support in their power. We have given the Confederate Government an assurance to this effect. Thank you.”

<tag> to read later. Wish I hadn't stayed away from these forums for so long... so much to catch up on...

"Your Imperial Highnesses," said Bertrand Shaw, a member of Langeais' privvy council, nodding his head in respect as he approached Prince Joseph and Princess Anna on the tennis court. The couple on the other side of the net nodded, and walked off the court to sit down on the benches in the shade.

"What is it, Shaw?" asked Joseph, taking a towel from a ballboy and wiping the sweat off his brow.

"The Treaty of Jefferson has been rendered void, sir." Shaw said.

"I was worried it would come to this..." Joseph murmured.

"I can't believe the CSS elected a member of the Order..." Anna snapped angrily. "As if the region isn't unstable enough!"

"You asked to be apprised of the new from the sitting of the Imperial Senate, Highnesses, so I thought you should know." Shaw concludes.

"Yes, thankyou Shaw, you may go." Anna says.

"Suddenly I don't feel like tennis anymore..." Joseph quips.

Vredespaleis, The Hague, Knootoss

President Caine smiled and nodded at the Premier. “Thank you, Prime Minister Galadriël. I would be honored to join your lunch. And,” the President nodded again, “I appreciate Minister van Mierlo’s statement. Many of my people are somewhat nervous about the cancellation of the Treaty of Jefferson; we have relied on it for a century for our defense.” Caine’s smile widened. “But I look at it as a necessary development – shedding the old in favor of the new, if you will. The treaty and Excalbia itself were simply holding us back. I have every confidence that our new friendship with the DDR will not only guarantee our security but will actually help us move forward into a new era.”

As the President walked off with the Knootian PM, Rihards Krauklis excused himself and headed off for his rendezvous with a Ms. Pilmana from Upper Virginia.

Nieuwspoort press centre

“Mr. van Mierlo,” a petite young woman raised her hand, “Jan Thiebald, CNS. Does this mean that Knootoss is prepared to provide the Confederation with a security guarantee? And, if so, does this mean that the DDR is prepared, if needed, to intervene militarily in the Excalbian Isles? And, specifically, if the situation in Upper Virginia continues to deteriorate, is the DDR prepared to intervene in that situation as well?”

Nieuwspoort press centre

“Mr. van Mierlo,” a petite young woman raised her hand, “Jan Thiebald, CNS. Does this mean that Knootoss is prepared to provide the Confederation with a security guarantee? And, if so, does this mean that the DDR is prepared, if needed, to intervene militarily in the Excalbian Isles? And, specifically, if the situation in Upper Virginia continues to deteriorate, is the DDR prepared to intervene in that situation as well?”

Hans van Mierlo frowned: "I do not think Knootian intervention in Upper Virginia is an issue at the moment nor are military interventions in the region in general. We have given the Confederate Government an assurance that we are willing to act on behalf of their interests, that is all. Next question?"

The Hague, Knootoss...

Elizabeth Pilmana sat in one of the city’s many cafes, leg crossed, impatiently waiting. She checked her watch and looked back up just in time to see a youngish man in trendy suit approaching. The man smiled and Elizabeth nodded. “You must be Mr. Krauklis. Please have a seat.”

The man smiled again and introduced himself as he took his seat.

“I’m happy to finally meet you, Mr. Krauklis. Frank Turley sends his greetings and his congratulations to President Caine.” Pilmana pulled a letter out of her pocket and handed it to the new President’s Chief of Staff.

“This is from Chairman Turley. He hopes that we’ll be able to open negotiations during my visit. We are, he believes, very close to a change of directions in the Dominion and we want to take this opportunity to make sure that the Dominion and the Confederation can move forward together towards a new order.”

The Hague, Knootoss

Rihards Krauklis smiled with sincerity as he took his seat. He was pleased to meet with Turley’s representative and was even more pleased that he’d sent such a pleasant representative.

Krauklis took the letter and opened it. “Thank you, Ms. Pilmana. And give my thanks to Mr. Turley. We have been following developments in the Dominion very closely. We certainly hope to see a positive change and are greatly relieved that someone who shares our values will have a hand in those changes.”

Nieuwspoort press centre

“Yes, Mr. van Mierlo,” a middle-aged gentleman in a tweed suit stood, "Martin Quinn, Umbria Herald. How would you answer those in the Confederation who say that President Caine's abandonment of the Treaty of Jefferson, his embrasing of the KIST and, indeed, his new found affection for Knootoss are evidence that the Order of the Invisible Hand really is behind his government? And what of the charges that, by embracing Knootoss so quickly and so broadly, President Caine is compromising the Confederation's independence?"

((OOC: for now. Have to think about the lunch thing and of course, playing NS Knootoss means the endless submission of interesting long-term threads to the demands of urgent trivia such as playing roach patrol on Mars.))


Nieuwspoort press centre

“Yes, Mr. van Mierlo,” a middle-aged gentleman in a tweed suit stood, "Martin Quinn, Umbria Herald. How would you answer those in the Confederation who say that President Caine's abandonment of the Treaty of Jefferson, his embrasing of the KIST and, indeed, his new found affection for Knootoss are evidence that the Order of the Invisible Hand really is behind his government? And what of the charges that, by embracing Knootoss so quickly and so broadly, President Caine is compromising the Confederation's independence?"

The Minister leaned forward a bit and smiled warmly. "Well, I certainly understand that the abandonment of the Treaty of Jefferson comes as a nasty shock to the people of the Confederation. It was an unpleasant suprise for us as well. But I see the Confederation as a strong and important nation. I see them as equal partners in a fair deal, and if they are in trouble because of opening trade relations with us then we can only offer our assistance instead. It is the friendly thing to do."

Nieuwspoort press centre

A middle-aged woman with blonde hair and wearing a conservative blue shirt stood and raised her hand. "Mr. van Mierlo," the woman said, "I'm Harriett Kule, EBS. Sir, what do you say to critics in the Excalbian Isles who believe Knootoss is supporting the Caine administration solely to advance the so-called Order of the Invisible Hand and is using the C.S.S. as a wedge to open the entire region to this cult?"

bump

The Hague, Knootoss

"Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Krauklis," Elizabeth Pilmana said after taking a sip of her coffee. "However, Mr. Turley was hoping that the Confederation, as the first nation in the Excalbian Isles to adopt the ways of the Order, would be able to offer some direct assistance."

Nieuwspoort press centre

A middle-aged woman with blonde hair and wearing a conservative blue shirt stood and raised her hand. "Mr. van Mierlo," the woman said, "I'm Harriett Kule, EBS. Sir, what do you say to critics in the Excalbian Isles who believe Knootoss is supporting the Caine administration solely to advance the so-called Order of the Invisible Hand and is using the C.S.S. as a wedge to open the entire region to this cult?"
Van Mierlo’s smile remained fixed on his face: “I do not think their analysis is correct. President Caine was elected by the people of the Confederation. He has indicated that he wishes to seek closer relations with my country and we welcome his wise initiative. There is nothing nefarious or suspicious about two states seeking closer cooperation, really. The paranoid story that this entire government would be under the spell of some sort of cult is patently ridiculous. Let me tell you, I have been foreign minister for over nineteen years now, serving in some of the most left-wing cabinets our nations history. If there really are people who think that my policies are dictated by Market-worship, then I will just have to point them to my actions… to look at my political record and tell them again that such conspiracy theories have no actual basis in reality.”

He paused, inquiring friendly but with a well-hidden undertone of irritation. “Any other questions?”

Vredespaleis - Lunch with Galadriël
For an informal lunch, Galadriël had seemingly made a lot of efforts. Anyone visiting Knootoss leaders for an informal lunch before she became Prime Minister would probably have been treated to the same food used to sustain the average politician: white buns with a yellow piece of plastic vaguely resembling cheese and a dark drink with mud-like properties. But with this elf in charge, informal lunches were exploited to their full potential. A lushly decorated room of the Vredespaleis has been cordoned off especially for this purpose, and a long table featured the most delicious foodstuff s from all over the world, with an emphasis of a variety of Elvish treats.

To her guests, the Lady nos Círdan presented the various foods with short explanation of what it was, confiding that she was indeed very happy that the Elvish minority community has been able to revive some of the old traditions of food preparation here.

Galadriël took her assigned seat next to Caine, while making sure that both Turleys representative from Upper Virginia and her own minister of economic affairs were seated comfortably.

As dinner progressed, Galadriël first engaged Caine in some talks about how he viewed the current situation in his country. When they arrived at the subject of arms shipments, she remarked:

”If you would graciously allow it, we would like to extend the offer of our friendship and defence assistance to that of another nation. I have been informed that the Teutonic Empire of Lavenrunz has several offers in terms of arms which may be of great use for the Confederate armed forces. And indeed it would only be so honest to extend the Market, so as to include more suppliers in competition, would you not agree?”

OOC: feel free to ask about the opposition and the Church and such things now. And to have said Confederate/UV talks :)

Umbra, Confederation State of Saxmere

The motorcade rolled slowly down the gravel road towards the windswept Monastery of Saint Columba. In the middle of the line of cars a single limousine flew both the flags of the Catholic Church and the Church of Excalbia.

As the procession glided to a stop in front of the monastery’s ancient gates, the Father Abbott, accompanied by the Bishop of Umbra stepped forward to greet their guests.

The first out of the car was Archbishop Gregory Thrain, the leader of the Confederation’s catholic church. He was followed by Bishop Aigars Ormann, the Chief Bishop of the Excalbian Church in the Confederation.

Finally, Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins, spiritual head of the Church of Excalbia, stepped out and greeted the Abbott and Bishop Kiernan.

As the first leader of the Church of Excalbia to visit the Confederation in over a century, he knew everything he did on this trip would be highly symbolic and very important. The Church of Excalbia had often been through difficult times in the Confederation because of its links to the Holy Empire. For that reason, Purins and his predecessors had purposefully stayed out of the Confederation and left the Church largely in the hands of its own Chief Bishop.

But these were strange times. The rise of the Order of Invisible Hand in the Confederation had shaken people of faith throughout the Excalbian Isles. And, that had led to this unexpected seen – the leader of the Excalbian Church being welcomed by the Confederation’s Catholic leaders at the oldest Catholic – and the oldest Christian, he reminded himself – monument in the Isles.

The bishops escorted Purins into the chapel of the monastery, where other religious leaders – Catholic bishops, Excalbian bishops, other protestant leaders, and even Jewish leaders – waited for him and the Archbishop to address them.

Purins greeted the senior leaders in the front pews and waited for his introduction.

When he was introduced, he took to the pulpit and looked out over the crowd.

“My brothers and sisters, thank you for inviting me here to the birth place of Christianity in the Excalbian Isles. I can think of no better place to come together, bridge our differences and prepare to face the common threat that looms before us

“The Order of the Invisible Hand, with all of its materialistic lies and hard-hearted deceptions, is here – in our nations, our towns and cities – in our homes. Its lies have gained the ears of the rich and powerful.

“But, let that not dishearten us. Our faith in its origins and its heart is the faith of the weak and oppressed. Let us again rally the poor, the weak, the oppressed, the workers – all those who will suffer in the face of the Open Hand – and draw them back to the faith and unite them in a coalition to challenge the Order.

“The greater task, of course, is yours, dear brothers and sisters of the Confederation. But at this time, your brothers and sisters in Excalbia and elsewhere cannot stand idly by. We are with and we will labour together with you until this blasphemy is defeated!”

The Hague, Knootoss

Rihards Krauklis smiled. “Ms. Pilmana, we will naturally do everything we can to support you directly. As soon as your General Altman is out of the way and Mr. Turley is in position, we will send you – at his official request, of course – a large number of trade specialists from the Department of Commerce. They will be able to do everything you need.”

Krauklis leaned in close and lowered his voice to a low whisper. “We are even now entering into an arrangement with the DDR’s intelligence services to provide us training and support. We will share the fruits of that investment with you, hoping for an even greater yield in mutual profits.”

Vredespaleis - Lunch with Galadriël

As the lavish dinner began, Commerce Secretary Aton Binks launched into a conversation about trade and economics with Minister of Economic Affairs and Jonathan Hawkins, the Dominion of Upper Virginia’s special trade representative to the DDR.

President Caine listened carefully to Prime Minister Galadriël’s proposal on behalf of Lavenrunz. He smiled. “Competition is one of core principals of the Market isn’t it? And doesn’t the expansion of the Market benefit us all? Of course we would be happy to entertain Lavenrunz’s offers. With the Treaty of Jefferson scrapped and with Excalbia on the path to war with Upper Virginia, we will need, I fear, to buy as many armaments as we can afford. As long as we don’t have to institute a tax,” he chuckled. “So, I would be happy to receive their ambassador in Jefferson and discuss this further.”

Caine finished a bit of his meal and took a drink of the wine. Then, he turned back to the Prime Minister. “Speaking of further discussions, I must, unfortunately, raise the issue of domestic opposition. Even as I meet with you here to further develop the Market in the Confederation, back home the meddlesome Church of Excalbia is reaching its tentacles into the Confederation to undermine my government. Their Presiding Bishop – their version of a pope, I suppose – is in Saxmere meeting with the priests, preachers and rabbis of the Confederation all in an effort to denounce the Order and turn the people against us.”

Cain leaned back in his chair. “Now, I have every confidence that in the end reason will prevail and we will turn back this last gasp of superstition. However, if fall into league with our political opponents, such as some members of the former administration, they could make things quite difficult. May I ask what suggestions you may have for… dealing with them?”

Umbra, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Archbishop Thrain followed the Excalbian Presiding Bishop to the pulpit.

“My friends, brothers and sisters, fellow believers. Our faith is under attack. In small ways – being called ‘superstition’ by government officials, being banned from the classrooms – so far. But how long before the Order of the Invisible Hand – and make no mistake: it is the Order that controls this government – takes a more active hand in its dealings with what it dismisses as a ‘counterproductive superstition’?

“We cannot wait passively for them to act. We must act first. Act to reveal the true face of this cabal. Act to remind the people of their faith. Act to show how this government’s heartless policies will harm the common man. Act to remind people how materialistic philosophies have wrecked so much havoc on the world. Act to show people that there is another path – the path of compassion and faith. And act to stand up – in the courts and on the streets – for our rights.”

The Hague, Knootoss

Elizabeth Pilmansa smiled. "Mr. Turley will be very pleased. We are all looking forward to a time when we can both operate freely under the principles of the Market."

She sipped her coffee. "Do you need to get back to your president, Mr. Krauklis?"

Seeing him shake his no, she smiles. "Then, perhaps we can find some what to profitably spend our time for the rest of the afternoon..."

Bertram Carmichael finally conceded to himself that the situation outside was not another one of General Altman’s power games. It was less obvious to most people than might immediately be apparent. The Dominion had been living under what amounted to a military dictatorship, albeit an incomplete one, for many years now, and the populace, by and large, had grown accustomed to the status quo.
Indeed, for some the ballooning Dominion military was a boon. People like Bertram Carmichael.

Carmichael was Regional Executive Officer for Genomix. A very reputable, very powerful North Storn-based Company, with a truly deserved international reputation for the absolute cutting edge, best of class medical treatment and medical research facilities of any organisation, corporate or government, anywhere in the world. Genomix had helped the Dominion in a great number of ways, and had been richly rewarded as a consequence. They had an… understanding with the Dominion. Or, more particularly, an understanding with the PRC. Business was business, after all, and no one was more aware of the power of business than an executive from the Stockholder Democracy.

But General Altman, while, on balance, fairly business-savvy, was not a businessman. He was military. And he thought like it. Not that that was very surprising in itself. That situation had generated pluses and minuses. Initially, for Genomix, it was a very big plus. Genomix was the largest non-Upper Virginian contractor for the Dominion’s drives into neural and neuro-logical research. The uses for Genomix’s input into that field had been classified to the eyeballs, but Carmichael had heard the rumours, watched the Confederation’s News reports, seen the contrails that defied his understanding of aerodynamics.

And he still remembered laughing when, a number of months ago, the Dominion-based National Data Corporation had agreed to a co-operative venture with the Excalbian-based Exsoft. He remembered the Excalbian stating to everyone that they were confident that they could maintain their research into the field safely and ethically, before pointing out that NDC hadn’t actually used cloned human tissue in their research. Carmichael wouldn’t have been surprised if clauses assuring the Excalbians had been included in the contract, knowing the self-righteous stance Excalbians had on so many of those things.

The laughter came at the details. Bertram Carmichael was on the “inside” of Upper Virginian medical research. He ran a large portion of it. Baxter Brandt hadn’t lied when he said that the bio-neural processor was based on cloned primate neural material. He just hadn’t specified which primate neural material HAD been used for the research. And, in the subsequent press conference, when challenged on that, the slippery little devil had said “No, no, no, I can assure you that no Upper Virginian Company has used cloned human tissue for any research or development on this technology”. And he was right.

Genomix was not Upper Virginian.

But then things had started to get out of hand. The civil war against the communists to the northwest had not gone well. Then the massacre, when the army had fired into protesters. When word of the skirmish with the Excalbians in the Gulf got out, investors became more than nervous. They became positively petrified. Forrest Turley, Brandt’s replacement, had done an admirable job of calming the situation down. And then the past few nights of absolute chaos. Complete anarchy. At first Carmichael had thought that Altman’s patience had finally snapped, and he’d ordered the army back into Courtland. The sounds of gunfire were very obvious indeed, and Carmichael had figured it would calm down with daybreak.

But the day had dawned and the chaos hadn’t dissipated. Smoke was rising from one of the embassies, and from the direction of Altman’s headquarters. Things were out of hand. So, he did what businessmen do everywhere when the situation smells bad. He called someone else.

His secretary answered when he lifted the phone.

“Chairman Forrest Turley, please…No I don’t know where he is at the moment… Yes it is urgent. Urgent as in, ‘there are tanks in the streets of Courtland’, type urgent.”

The hold music began to play. He hoped the Chairman was able to talk. Because at that moment, REO Bertram Carmichael was not confident in the continued benefit of Genomix’s Upper Virginian operations to the stockholders…

Stonebridge, West of Courtland…

Forrest Turley was flipping between illegal satellite news channels trying to follow events in Courtland. Major Thorsen had notified his people, who, in turn, had gotten the Old Army March on all the TV and radio stations at the same time. That much of the plan was working. But other information was sketchy. He had hoped to know more, but realized that it wasn’t as if Thorsen or his figurehead general could stop in the middle o a coup d’etat to call him.

Just then his phone rang. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID. Then, he turned it over and flipped it open.

“Turley,” he answered brusquely.

“Sorry sir,” said the secretary’s voice – he couldn’t remember which one it was, “I have Mr. Carmichael from Genomix on the line…”

“Well, put him through!” Turley heard the line click.

“Good morning, Bertram. I trust the shooting didn’t wake you up too early. I’m sure you’re concerned and I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you sooner, but today is a great day for Upper Virginia. By the end of the day, we’ll be rid of Altman and well on our way to establishing a new government that should guarantee profitability for both of us for quite some time. Perhaps you’d let me send some of our security people from NDS over to bring you to my estate, where can discuss things much more comfortably. I can guarantee that the trip will be safe.”

Bertram Carmichael was surprised. In fact, that’d have been a very delicate way of putting it. He was stunned. Flummoxed, even. The Chairman of the Chamber of Industrials had just declared to him, another businessman, that he was supporting, nay, engineering a coup. And it was happening right now. Right in front of him. He pondered his words carefully before uttering them. He wasn’t sure how secure the line was, but he recognised the opportunity that had just presented itself. Turley had, personally, invited him –and by extension, Genomix- to his estate. There was immense personal risk, to be sure. But also phenomenal opportunity. Possibly the prospect of promotion…

It was the last thought that convinced Carmichael. Whatever happened, after the absolute mess that the coup would doubtless make of the Dominion, many things would have to start up from scratch, funded and fuelled from foreign sources. Foreign sources, like Genomix.

And, on top of all that, Carmichael was a very curious man.

“If you can guarantee my safety, I’d be happy to attend, Mr Turley. I am keen to hear of your plans for the future, and what ramifications they may have for us.”

Stonebridge, West of Courtland…

“Excellent,” Turley smiled as he spoke. “I am happy to guarantee your safety, Mr. Carmichael.” As he spoke, Turley picked up another phone and quickly wrote an SMS. “I’ve just sent a message to our security people at NDS headquarters in the city centre. They’ll dispatch on our armoured vehicles to pick you up at your flat. And don’t worry, its state of the art – six-wheeled independent suspension, foamed alloy armour – the Excalbians are the only ones with anything like it. Altman was trying to get us to develop one for the Army, but we kept finding ways to delay. For obvious reasons.

“The vehicle should be there in about 6 or 7 minutes; our security will come to the door for you. And, their passes will get you through any check-point, regardless of whose it is.”

(OOC: Assuming Carmichael agrees…)

About 10 minutes later, the intercom to Carmichael’s flat buzzed. On the street below, a squad of Chamber Security in full armour secured the block in front of the Genomix executive’s building. A somewhat strange looking and very large six-wheeled vehicle idled on the street.

<placeholder post for tomorrow>

Vredespaleis - Lunch with Galadriël

As the lavish dinner began, Commerce Secretary Aton Binks launched into a conversation about trade and economics with Minister of Economic Affairs and Jonathan Hawkins, the Dominion of Upper Virginia’s special trade representative to the DDR.

President Caine listened carefully to Prime Minister Galadriël’s proposal on behalf of Lavenrunz. He smiled. “Competition is one of core principals of the Market isn’t it? And doesn’t the expansion of the Market benefit us all? Of course we would be happy to entertain Lavenrunz’s offers. With the Treaty of Jefferson scrapped and with Excalbia on the path to war with Upper Virginia, we will need, I fear, to buy as many armaments as we can afford. As long as we don’t have to institute a tax,” he chuckled. “So, I would be happy to receive their ambassador in Jefferson and discuss this further.”

Caine finished a bit of his meal and took a drink of the wine. Then, he turned back to the Prime Minister. “Speaking of further discussions, I must, unfortunately, raise the issue of domestic opposition. Even as I meet with you here to further develop the Market in the Confederation, back home the meddlesome Church of Excalbia is reaching its tentacles into the Confederation to undermine my government. Their Presiding Bishop – their version of a pope, I suppose – is in Saxmere meeting with the priests, preachers and rabbis of the Confederation all in an effort to denounce the Order and turn the people against us.”

Cain leaned back in his chair. “Now, I have every confidence that in the end reason will prevail and we will turn back this last gasp of superstition. However, if fall into league with our political opponents, such as some members of the former administration, they could make things quite difficult. May I ask what suggestions you may have for… dealing with them?”

Galadriëls smile turned sour at the mention of the opposition.
“I can only bid that you be careful”, she remarked. “In politics there are no certainties, and treachery is never far away when the opportunity for it arises.”

She took a sip from her tea and continued. “What is key, is the irrational feelings of the masses. They must be controlled, public discourse steered and manipulated to perfection. Sometimes the only way to get from irrationality to reason is the use of irrational means.”

She smiled an endearing smile, blushing a little if only as part of breaking the social expectations that came with her appearance. “I apologise for so much Machiavellism at what was supposed to be a light lunch”, she said blushing. ”My own best advice is to know your country and its people. Its strengths, its weaknesses. To know how far you can go."

A rather corpulent Knootian whom Caine recalled had something to do with intelligence burst out in jolly laughter. "I have a great plan. We'll just give this visiting Bishop a present! And I mean extravagant present!”

Several around him raised eyebrows, but this did not stop him. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m not talking about a flowers or an invitation to lunch! I’m suggesting a mad, unthinkable, utterly impossible present! A nice and charming present he’ll remember for the rest of his life. Ho ho ho!" The Knootian put his hands on his belly as he laughed, calling vaguely Christmas-related thoughts into the mind of Caine.

-------------------------------------------
Monastery of Saint Columba
-------------------------------------------

After the sun had set, the meetings of the day were closed and the representatives either went home or stayed to spend the night in the Monestary. A quiet mood of contemplation hung over the birthplace of Excalbadian Christianity.

But the chambers of one of the delegations stirred, a window was left open, and light footsteps trickled like drops of water over the cold stone floors of the monastery. Muddy stains were left in the form of small footprints; the result of shoes that had been outside not so long ago.

The sound of softly tapping shoes, dampened by some material, was already in another hallway where a tall figure - clad in the dark-brown robes of one of the orders that had been invited to attend - made its way through the hallways. In her hands, for they were soft and peachy female hands, was held a candle that lid up her face. The candle itself was special; it did not seem to burn up or lead and was adorned with round circles that covered every angle in the middle of a framework of small decorations.

The light of the candle lit up the face of the woman in an almost spooky gleaming, showing her deep hazel-brown eyes in a pretty, rounded face. She knocked gently on the door that lead to the quarters of Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins, the spiritual head of the Church of Excalbia. She heard the mumbling of a man, “just a minute!”

The eminence who opened the door was surprised to see not one of his trusted old friends coming for a nightcap, but instead this stunningly beautiful young lady who was wearing a killer perfume under her simple robes. His mouth was fell open before he managed to control himself, and the lady stepped inside, virtually falling on her knees. “Your Grace” she pleaded with a hushed voice. “I apologise for disturbing you at this late hour but I bring before you a matter of deep spiritual concerns.”

Almost unobtrusively she closed the thick armoured doors, now leaving them alone behind the ancient and (hopefully soundproof) walls. Casually, she placed down the candle on some sort of small table. Leaving it as a quiet observer.

“I have been plagued”, she bemoaned as she moved her body as sexily as she could while spreading the strong scent of her perfume, “by thoughts ... by sins of the flesh.”. Her eyelashes accentuated the hazel eyes in the soft light. She stepped out and seemingly opened her robe. But behind those eyes her senses were ever alert and her hand was ready to reach for the tiny gay spray tool sewn inside her robe at a moments notice.

((OOC: making quite a few assumptions here. Correct me if I’m wrong. The Candle-Camera is available at the ‘Knoots Ridicilous Spy Gadetry’ storefront. And nobody questions the genius of my plan!!!!!!!!!1111oneone.))

OOC: What the hell is a gay spray tool? Anyway, carry on with your scheduled roleplaying! :)

Monastery of Saint Columba, Confederation State of Saxmere

Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins was in his robe and slippers doing some light reading when he heard a knock on his door. He opened it in full confidence that it was one of the other bishops or one of his own aides come to discuss something.

Instead, he found a young woman, who pushed her way into his room. She set the candle she was carrying on the nightstand. “I have been plagued”, she moaned, “by thoughts ... by sins of the flesh.” Her eyelashes accentuated the hazel eyes in the soft light.

Purins backed away from her and tripped over his own bed in the cramped cell. "I... I don't know how you got in here, young lady, or what you are thinking, but I am happily married. And a priest! I'm afraid I must ask you to leave!"

“Your *Grace*”, she emphasised. "You have fallen!" She extended a hand seemingly to help Gunars Purins get back up on his feet, but then with one gracious move used her other hand to grab a tiny bottle that had been attached to her sleeve and used it to spray something it in his face, taking notice to do this while she had her own back to the candle to obscure the sight of it...

OOC:
Gay spray? Evil Knootian pervert military-style aphrodisiac gone mad. See the relevant wiki entry (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Gay_Spray)
Uhm. Yeah. I suppose it kind of leaves to domain of family friendliness here. Would like to hear what you want to do with it, Excalbia. The plan is sort of obvious now… I think.

(OOC: How effective would the dose the bishop receives be in overcoming a great deal of moral resistance? If it is as powerful as your wiki entry suggests, then I won't object if you want to RP it as having the intended effect - though I generally prefer to keep the details off-stage. May I suggest that it all end with a massive coronary? That doesn't seem to be an unreasonable reaction based on your wiki entry. In turn, that could lead to some interesting ramifications.)

IC:

The bishop tried to cover his face. "What are you doing..." The bishop's words were drowned out by a sudden fit of coughing. He felt his chest tighten, as if he couldn't breathe... And, suddenly, he didn't quite feel himself...

(Excalbia has a TG)

---------------------------------
A few minutes later
---------------------------------

It had started with the drugged bishop displaying obvious signs of pain, along with extreme shortness of breath. The muscular twitching certainly had been very scary, but fortunately it had not lasted very long as the old man had gotten a massive coronary… or so it appeared to the woman as he lay on top of her, dead, half naked and bathed in cold sweat.

As she wrestled out under him she thrice cursed the Knootian who had assured her that the drug would not kill him. But now what? She could hardly leave…. her tracks were everywhere and they would find this dead man soon… and then they would capture her and make a murderer out of her. Probably kill her too. Depending on who would get to her first. More considerations: the robes as a disguise would never hold up if she would be detained so she needed a plan b. Possibilities raced through her mind and her throat got dry at the likely prospects. How long till the Confederation security service would arrive? If the Knootian AIVD liaison who was supposed to monitor this assignment would not screw that up too, that was. Finally she decided on the most probably plan she could come up with. She readjusted her hair a bit and cleared her throat.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!”

She ran outside into the hall, screaming. “Please! Help me! The Bishop!”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Bishop Kiernan heard a woman’s scream and wrapped his robe around him and ran into the hall. He immediately spotted the apparently frantic woman in a monk’s robes running in the hall screaming about a bishop. Kiernan grabbed the woman by her shoulders. “What is it, young woman? What’s going on here?”

Kiernan looked passed her and spotted the open door to room assigned to the Presiding Bishop of the Excalbian Church. Kiernan ran to the door and reached it at the same moment as the Abbott, who had also heard the scream, but who had immediately spotted the open door.

Kiernan walked in and saw Purins’ body on the bed. He checked for a pulse and found none. He crossed himself and turned to his older teacher, who was also crossing himself. “Father Abbott, make sure that woman doesn’t leave.”

The elderly monk looked into the hallway and saw that two monks were already holding the woman, trying to calm her hysteria. He nodded to them and they caught his meaning and nodded back. “She won’t be leaving, Patrick.”

The bishop nodded. “We need to call the ambulance and the police…”

“And, Patrick,” the Abbott whispered to the bishop, “we had better call your friend the Lieutenant Governor. I wouldn’t entirely trust the police these days…”

“Yes, yes,” the bishop nodded gravely, “I will call him on my mobile from my room. I will also find Bishop Ormann, their chief bishop here in the C.S.S. and ask him to call the Excalbian Embassy in Jefferson.” Kiernan shook his head. “This could be very, very bad…”

“Indeed,” the Abbott agreed. “And I shall see to it that no one enters the room until the police arrive.”

Kiernan and nodded and headed off to find Ormann and then to call the Lieutenant Governor.

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.
The woman, meanwhile, put on quite a show.

”I was… he just… he…”, she stuttered incoherently before burying her head into Bishop Kiernans shoulder while burying her head into the robe of one of the monks. Finally she 'calmed down' and sat on the cold stone floor staring emptily at the wall as if in shock. Meanwhile she tried to listen in to the talk going on between the various people inside the monastery.

An unidentified grey room in a small town, Sovereign State of Saxmere

“What the hell is taking her so long,” a man with a heavy Dutch accent cursed.

“Patience, friend, these things can take time," a younger voice with native accent remarked with a grin. ”Who knows how much stamina the old fellow has. And don't forget, she will have to extract herself as well. This might be an all-nighter.”

Just as the younger man reached for his coffee the police radio on the table began to crackle again. The pair tuned in automatically, listening quietly to decipher the codes with deployment orders for several units, and the Monastery of Saint Colomba was mentioned as the location. They knew enough.

“We move.”

Tires screeched in the night as three black cars hastily sped over the empty streets of the town.

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

At the Abbott’s unspoken command, two monks kept a close eye on the young woman sitting in the floor staring blankly into space. A third monk quickly returned from the kitchens with a cup of tea. He handed it to the woman. “Here,” he said softly, “I thought you might be able to use this.” The young monk sat down. “So, what is your name, Miss? And would you mind telling me what happened?”

* * *

In a small room not far from Bishop Purins, Bishop Aigars Ormann, the Chief Bishop of the Church of Excalbia in the C.S.S., sat on his bed staring blankly at his phone. His Catholic colleague, Bishop Kiernan, had told him of Purins’ death. And the unseemly circumstances. Or rather, the apparent circumstances. He and Kiernan had even discussed what needed to be done.

But now, he could only sit there and stare at the phone. He didn’t even know the number of the Excalbian Embassy. He supposed he could call information.

However, he finally realized, Bishop Purins wasn’t just an Excalbian citizen. He was Presiding Bishop of the Church of Excalbia. First and foremost, he was a churchman.

Ormann thumbed through the numbers on his phone until he found the number of the Secretary of the Synod in Excalbia. He dialed the number and waited for the bishop to answer.

* * *

A little ways down the hall, Bishop Kiernan and Archbishop Gregory Thrain sat in matching armchairs as Kiernan patiently waited for the Lieutenant Governor to answer the phone. After a number of rings, a groggy-sounding voice answered.

“Yes,” the voice said.

“Douglas? This is Patrick Kiernan.”

“Patrick? What is it?”

“We’ve just found the Presiding Bishop of the Excalbian Church in his room at the monastery dead. Under highly unusual and unsavory circumstances…”

“Have you called the police?”

“Yes. They’re on their way. But, these days, with the Order and all. Well, frankly, Douglas, we’re not certain that the police will conduct a full investigation. They may come under pressure to make a ruling on the cause of death that would be the most unflattering to Christianity and our crusade against the Order. Could you find a way to take a direct hand in this?”

“Let me call some people I know at the State Police, Patrick and we’ll be right over. Meanwhile, don’t let the local police take anyone anywhere. Tell them to call the Commandant of the State Police if they have any questions.”

“OK. Thank you, Douglas.”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

At the Abbott’s unspoken command, two monks kept a close eye on the young woman sitting in the floor staring blankly into space. A third monk quickly returned from the kitchens with a cup of tea. He handed it to the woman. “Here,” he said softly, “I thought you might be able to use this.” The young monk sat down. “So, what is your name, Miss? And would you mind telling me what happened?”

The woman took a deep slurp from the cup of tea, shivering a bit. The shivering wasn't even faked - she actually was cold. Not knowing that Patrick Kiernans decision to wait for the Commandant of the State Police and his men to arrive would buy her precious time she tried to stretch this as long as she could.

"I was doing Narry..." she said, "and then suddenly his face went all strange and he began to gasp and then... and then..."

Her bambi-like eyes looked deep into the eyes of the young monk; he could almost swear he could see a tear.

((OOC: I wanted the normal police/ambulance arrive slightly before the secret police cars do so if that happens in the next post I'll have them arrive in my reply ;) ))

Bishop Graham Spelve paced nervously in the entry hall to the Emperor’s study in Sweyn Castle. The long, ornately decorated hall echoed with each footstep, enhancing the bishop’s anxiety.

Finally, the door opened and a court official escorted the bishop into the study. “Your Majesty,” the official said with a bow, “His Grace, Bishop Spelve, Secretary of the Synod of the Church of Excalbia.”

With a nod the Emperor dismissed the official, who quietly exited through another door. David IV sat behind an intricately carved desk wearing a white naval uniform. “Please be seated, your Grace,” the Emperor said, “I assume the news must be grave if you woke me in the middle of the night, so out with it, please.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” the bishop said as he cautiously took a seat. “I am afraid Presiding Bishop Purins has been found dead in the Confederation…”

“Good Lord,” the Emperor exclaimed, rising to his feet. “How?”

“Well, your Majesty, it seems he died of a heart attack, but it’s the circumstances…”

“What circumstances?”

“He was found in a… compromising position. And there was a young lady with him…”

The Emperor’s face reddened and he clenched his fists. “Your Grace, you bring troubling news. We are at war in Upper Virginia. We have a hostile government in the Confederation and a new, untested government in Pantocratoria. My chief of intelligence was been sacked and my Minister of Defence is lying in state at the Senate. And now this!” The Emperor muttered, then turned back to Spelve. “You knew Bishop Purins at least as well as I did. Did he seem the kind of man who would… do… something like this?”

“No, your Majesty…”

“Well, I don’t believe he did. I suspect foul play.” The Emperor walked over to his desk and picked up a phone. “Summon the Chancellor, Minister Cummings and Lord Halton immediately!”

Replacing the phone on its cradle, the Emperor turned to Spelve. “I will ask you to stay for the meeting, your Grace, to represent the Church.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

Three black cars travelled uphill at the highest speed the gravel road towards the Monastery of Saint Columba would allow. Inside the lead vehicle, Floris Maysinger (the man with the heavy Dutch accent) looked out into the darkness ahead of them while his assistant was concentrating on driving the car at a frantic pace - even without lantern poles on the bad road ahead.

The Knootian spoke suddenly and without provocation, as if he had sensed some of the doubt nagging at the younger Confederate colleague next to him. “Remember the cause Chapman. There is no room for doubt when we step inside that monastery.” He one only nodded in reply. The Knootian, not entirely convinced, continued: “In the words of Voltaire: ‘Quoi que vous fassiez, écrasez l'infâme, et aimez qui vous aime.’* That is our job tonight. That is what we must remember."

A small smile played on Chapmans lips as the dark shadow of the Monastery came into view, starkly contrasting against the backdrop of the nightly sky. Both men got out of their car, Maysinger noticing immediately that an ambulance had already arrived – which implicitly also meant that it had not left yet. A good sign. Chapman looked out over the scene as the men in the other two cars got out, all in black and putting on black sunglasses. As Maysinger approached him, he raised his fist, speaking with passion. “Écrasez l'infâme”

“Crush the Infamy”, Maysinger reciprocated in Dutch with what had just been dubbed the unofficial motto of the operation. Both men tapped their knuckles together, and the Knootian smiled satisfied at his Confederate patron. Both put on their sunglasses: the show was on.

One of the secret servicemen rang the bell, and when it took too long Maysinger impatiently banged his fist on the ancient gates. "Open the door! Open this door I tell you!”. When an elderly monk came to open the door the Knootian immediately flipped his pass, Chapman doing likewise.

”Confederate Secret Service”*, Chapman said with the local accent, perhaps a bit less menacingly then his Knootian patron would have. “Please show us to Presiding Bishop Purins.”

The Knootian boldly walked in and began to assign tasks: “In the meantime, nobody is to leave this monastery. You, you and you… make sure everyone stays in their rooms. William, set up a location for questioning. Chapman, you are with me..."

-------
*1 Translation: "Whatever you do, crush the infamous thing, and love those who love you." –in reference to crushing superstition,
*2: Confederate Secret Service – presuming that’s the name.

Father Daniel opened the heavy wooden doors of the monastery and the iron gate beyond. “No need to be so demanding!” The elderly monk was still dressed in his nightshirt and robe. “If you were in such a hurry, you could have come to the service entrance like the rest!”

He looked Chapman up and down. “Hmm. Secret Service, Sheriff, State Police. You all look alike to me. This way.” The priest led the two men past the chapel and some offices towards the monks’ cells. As they entered the long corridor with its two rows of heavy wooden doors, a number of men and women in brown uniforms and silver star badges looked towards them.

An older man with two stars on his collar approached Chapman and Maysinger. “Who are you and what are doing here?”

“His name’s Chapman,” Father Daniel answered, “says he’s Confederation Secret Service…”

“Sheriff Thomas Keene,” the man said extending a hand, “can’t say that I appreciate you stepping into our jurisdiction without notice, but under the circumstances, I understand why you’re here. The bishop’s this way,” Keene said leading the men towards Purins’ room.

“We arrived just a little bit ago along with the paramedics. They’ve pronounced the bishop dead. The corner is on his way. I also understand that the commander of the State Police and the freakin’ Lieutenant Governor are on their way. I wouldn’t be half surprised if the Excalbians don’t show up momentarily.”

Keene pointed to the body. “Looks like a heart attack during a… um… private moment. There’s a young lady down the hall. One of my deputies is trying to talk with her.”

When Lady Christina Freedman, Minister Albert Cummings and Admiral Lord Yornis Halton arrived at Sweyn Castle, a steward of the Imperial Household escorted past the Emperor’s study and the Small Throne Room that hosted most working audiences to the Emperor’s private chapel. Lady Freedman had been in the chapel a few times, however, Minister Cummings and Lord Halton had not and traded curious glances as they were ushered in.

“The Imperial Chancellor, the Minister of State and the Chief of the General Staff, your Majesty,” the steward announced softly with a bow.

The Emperor nodded and the steward withdrew, closing the heavy doors to the chapel. The Emperor gestured for newcomers to join him in one of the pews. Bishop Spelve, Secretary of the Synod of the Excalbian Church, and the Imperial Chamberlain, Lord Johannes Corman, sat with the Emperor.

The chapel was dark – lit only by candles and few small spotlights falling on paintings of Christ along the walls. Concealed spotlights also illuminated a painting of Christ at the Last Judgment on the ceiling. In the front of the chapel a simple kneeling rail stood in front of a simple pulpit and small altar bearing a rough-hewn wooden cross.

Once everyone was seated, the Emperor asked Bishop Spelve to repeat the news he had brought him about Presiding Bishop Purins.

Albert Cummings had known Bishop Purins personally – they had played cards together – and he sat slack jawed as if in a mild state of shock. Lord Halton merely shook his head, while Lady Freedman tried to weigh the implications.

“You don’t believe what the initial reports seem to indicate, do you, your Majesty?” The Chancellor posed her question, sensing the direction the Emperor was headed. Anticipating His Imperial Majesty was one of her greatest strengths as Chancellor.

“No, I don’t. I suspect some kind of plot by the Confederation. Possibly the Knootians. It would be all too convenient for one of their chief detractors to die in humiliation and to be scorned as a hypocrite.”

“What do you plan to do, your Majesty,” Lord Halton asked cautiously.

“I plan to demand that the C.S.S. allow us to send our own investigators – including forensic experts.” The Emperor turned to his Chancellor. “Call President Caine. Wake him up. Ask him…,” the Emperor’s face took on a decidedly purple color, “no, tell him that the Emperor of Excalbia, Heir of the Sword of Alsgood, Grantor of the Charter that founded the Confederation, demands that our experts be allowed to take the lead in the investigation into Bishop Purins’ death.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Lady Freedman said with a bow.

“How is Marguerite taking the news?” The Emperor turned to Bishop Spelve.

“Not well, your Majesty. Bishop Repse went to tell her in person and is staying with her, trying to comfort her.”

The Emperor nodded, then turned to his Chamberlain. “Arrange for me to visit Mrs. Purins first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” the elderly Chamberlain said with a bow.

“What about the press? Do they know?” Albert Cummings asked, suddenly coming back to his senses.

“It has not yet been made public,” Bishop Spelve answered. “But we will need to make an announcement tomorrow. And I’m sure it will be on the morning news – in the most embarrassing light – in the Confederation.”

The Emperor frowned and looked again at Lord Corman. “Let the press know, then, that I will be going on a private call tomorrow morning, but will have a statement to make as I depart.” He turned to Spelve. “Your Grace, make sure that the official statement is released just before I leave to Mrs. Purins.”

The bishop nodded.

“Now,” he turned to his Chancellor, “we need to fill the vacancies in the cabinet. We can’t have so many crises going on at once without a full team.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Christina said softly, “I have been thinking about that. I believe that we need to clean house in Imperial Intelligence; break them free from their ‘James Bond’ mindset and direct them towards developing useful political analysis and fighting international criminal elements. I also think we need to reinforce political control – Lord James’ recent freelancing being a prime example of my rationale. So, I would suggest we move Lady Hapsgaard from Justice to Intelligence. She has run Justice well and can be trusted. I also think it would be easier to bring in a new Senator as Attorney General than to find someone outside the cabinet to run Intelligence.”

“I agree,” the Emperor said, “draft the commission tomorrow morning and send me some names for Attorney General. And for Minister of Defence?”

“Well, your Majesty, I would suggest Lord Halton, if he is willing to give up his commission and stand for election to the Senate this year.”

Lord Halton frowned. He didn’t want to a politician, but he knew he couldn’t turn down his Emperor.

“Will you accept?” The Emperor looked levelly at Halton as he asked.

“Yes, your Majesty,” he murmured. “But, who then,” he said more strongly, “will succeed me?”

“I want a field commander. Someone young and a product of your ‘new Navy,’ my Lord,” the Emperor said. “What about Sir Kunle?”

“That is quite a big jump for a Vice Admiral. Many more senior officers will be offended…”

“Then, let them be offended and retire. All the better to complete the transformation of our military. Wouldn’t you agree, my Lord? My Lady?”

Halton and the Chancellor exchanged glances then both nodded.

“Very well.” The Emperor sighed. “Tomorrow promises to be a full day, let us pray together and prepare for it.”

The Emperor slid to his knees and began to pray. “O, Gracious Lord, grant us, your servants, wisdom and patience…”

Bishop Spelve and Albert Cummings joined him. Lord Corman, due to his age, remained in his seat but bowed his head. Somewhat self-consciously and uncomfortably, the Chancellor also joined the Emperor on her knees. Lord Halton, not being a religious man sat confused for a moment, then he, too, bowed his head and began pondering his decision to throw himself into the political fray.

Chapman gave Keene a firm handshake. As he spoke, Chapman listened carefully. Now and then he’d cast an understanding look and nod. “Good work, Sherrif”, Chapman complimented finally. “You’ve done well.” He lingered for a moment as the Knootian separated themselves from the party to go into the Presiding Bishops chambers. The two walked on into the hall, discussing with hushed voices. “I hope you understand the seriousness of this situation. In fact, we might have to take this whole affair into our own hands. State security and such." He sighed. "This private escapade of Bishop Purins could have far-reaching implications. For now we need to keep this quiet so the government has time to prepare a statement for the Excalbadians and the general public when dawn comes. I'm afraid that means that we have to keep this out of the hands of the normal circuits."

Discreetly he pointed in the direction of the lady. “That is her? If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to her for a moment...”

Maysinger meanwhile had wandered into the room and squatted next to the dead body of the Presiding Bishop, as if to personally confirm that he was really dead. He squatted there for a moment, silent and seemingly transfixed in thought. Finally he got up, turning to two paramedics in the room. “Well… this man is very much dead. A tragedy.” He paused for a moment to emphasise this. With a professionally detached air he continued: “Gentlemen, it was good of you to come but it seems the damage is already done. I’m going to have to ask you not to discuss this… accident for now with anyone outside of this monastery. I hope you understand.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the Confederation

President Tom Caine awoke to find Shannon Coles lying next to him shaking him. “Mr. President,” the press secretary said, not looking at all like a member of the president’s senior staff, “you private line…”

Caine smiled faintly at Shannon then heard the ringing of the phone beside him. He rolled over and picked up the phone. “This is Caine,” he said groggily.

“Mr. President,” the faceless staffer said over the phone, “the Chancellor of the Excalbian Empire is on the line. She insists on speaking with you. The Secretary of Foreign Affairs has called and said that the Excalbians are insisting that you speak with their Chancellor. They won’t be put off, sir.”

“Alright,” he said sitting up and rubbing his eyes, “put her through.” He looked at Shannon and shrugged.

“Mr. President?” A firm but feminine voice said.

“Yes, this is Tom Caine.”

“President Caine, this is Christina Freedman, Imperial Chancellor of Excalbia. Sorry to have awoken you, but I am calling on the direct orders of His Imperial Majesty, David IV. Earlier tonight, the presiding bishop of the Excalbian Church, Bishop Gunars Purins, was found dead in Saxmere. The circumstances point to something rather unseemly however,” the strong voice wavered for just a moment, “His Imperial Majesty is convinced foul play is involved. He demands that your people turn over the investigation to Imperial authorities and that no forensic examination be conducted until our experts arrive. He further demands that Excalbian investigators be allowed to fully investigate the circumstances.”

President Caine looked blankly at Shannon. He knew that Krauklis and the Knootians were planning to discredit Purins, but he hadn’t wanted to know the details.

“Madame Chancellor,” Caine began, “I can assure you that this tragedy will be fully investigated. However, as a sovereign nation, I hope you realize that we can’t allow foreign police forces to take charge of an investigation on our soil.”

“Actually, it should be Lady Chancellor,” Lady Freedman said icily. “You should know that this isn’t my demand or the demand of the government. It is the demand of His Imperial Majesty. And the blood of Alsgood, Sweyn and Joshua flows through his veins, Mr. President. Once he has decided on something, nothing will deter him. For the sake of our… already strained relations, I urge you, President Caine, to reconsider.”

Caine shook his head. If she meant to intimidate him, she would be sadly mistaken. “No matter whose heir David IV is, Lady,” he emphasized the word sarcastically, “Chancellor, he holds no sway over the Sovereign States. We will not surrender our independence to imperial demands.” He switched to a more conciliatory tone. “Of course, observers may be sent, but they will have no police powers here. I again assure you that the matter will be fully looked into.”

“I shall relay your answer to His Imperial Majesty, Mr. President. Good evening.”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Sheriff Keene nodded at the compliment from the secret service man. He listened intently as the man discussed the possible political implications of this incident. “Normally,” Keene said softly, “I’d fight to maintain my jurisdicton here. Just on principle – I don’t like the Confederation government meddling in local business.” Keene looked back towards the Excalbian bishop’s room. “But frankly, this is local business we don’t need. I’m happy to turn the investigation over to you, Mr. Chapman. I’ll leave my deputies here to assist you as needed. Now, you may not find Commander Mackeown and the Lieutenant Governor as accomodating as I am.”

Keene led Chapman to a door a short distance away. “Now, here’s where the girl is. Go on in, if you’d like.”

* * *

Inside the room, a young monk and deputy were sitting at a table across from a young woman wrapped in a sheet. A warm cup of tea sat infront of her.

Speaking from just outside the door, Keene called out to the deputy. “Wally,” he said, “this is Mr. Chapman from the secret service. He’s in charge of the investigation. At least under Commander Mackeown gets here.”

The deputy stood. “I’m Corporal Wallace Henry, sir.” He turned to the monk. “This is Father Trent. The young girl hasn’t told us much yet, so if you have any questions for her, go ahead, sir.”

* * *

In Bishop Purins’ room paramedics looked at Maysinger, then at each other. The lead paramedic shrugged and nodded to his crew, who began packing up their gear.

* * *

Father Daniel sighed wearily as he escorted a new batch of strangers through the monastery. Arriving in the main hall of the residential area, Father Daniel guided the two men to Sheriff Keene.

“Sheriff,” the elderly priest said, “these men wanted to see you. One says he’s the Commandant of the State Police and the other says he’s the Lieutenant Governor.”

Sheriff Keene extended his hand to the men, starting with the Lieutenant Governor. “Sir. Commander. Everything is well in hand, here. Some men from the Confederation Secret Service are here and …”

“Secret Service,” Lt. Governor Douglas Aldaris said anxiously. He turned to the black uniformed man beside him. “Mike, you’d better check this out.”

“Yes, sir.” Commander Mike Mackeown turned to Sheriff Keene. “Where are these Secret Service men?”

“One’s with the bishop’s body and the other’s with the girl…”

Mackeown turned and saw the paramedics coming out of a room. Guessing that it was Purins’, he trotted down the hall and into the room. He spotted Maysinger in the room alone. “What are you doing there? Identify yourself.”

The Lieutenant Governor turned to Keene. “Sheriff, go tell the other agent that I want to speak with him.”

“Yes, sir,” Keene said, heading back into the room where the girl was to get Chapman.

Aldaris started walking in the direction Mackeown had gone. Before he had gone far, Archbishop Thrain and Bishop Kiernan. “Patrick,” the Lt. Governor said, spotting the bishop, “what’s going on here?”

Bishop Kiernan shrugged. “We’re not sure, Douglas. Thanks for coming. You know Archbishop Thrain, don’t you?”

“Gregory,” Aldaris said extending his hand.

“Douglas,” the archbishop answered pumping the Lt.Governor’s hand. “We’re glad you’re here. Did I hear Father Daniel say that the Secret Service is here?”

“Yes, they are.” The Lt. Governor frowned. “And I don’t like one bit. Commander Mackeown has gone to round them up.” Aldaris looked over his shoulder. “I am glad I have you both together, though. There is something I want to ask you about, as soon as we can have some privacy. Something about the family of the old Grand Duke…”

Thrain and Kiernan looked at each other in confusion.

bump for later

OOC: sorry sorry sorry. I am evil. I have spent too much time designing my battleship. Will reply ASAP.

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S

Inside the room, a young monk and deputy were sitting at a table across from a young woman wrapped in a sheet. A warm cup of tea sat infront of her.

Speaking from just outside the door, Keene called out to the deputy. “Wally,” he said, “this is Mr. Chapman from the secret service. He’s in charge of the investigation. At least under Commander Mackeown gets here.”

The deputy stood. “I’m Corporal Wallace Henry, sir.” He turned to the monk. “This is Father Trent. The young girl hasn’t told us much yet, so if you have any questions for her, go ahead, sir.”

Chapman introduced himself politely. “Good to meet you Sir.” He turned to the monk with much respect. “Father...” He paused. “I’m sorry for your loss. Now, I’ll gladly ask some questions. Could I have some privacy please? I would like to talk to her alone. You understand” He cast a look at the girl, shivering lightly while taking a sip from her tea. He waited for the two men to leave the room and closed the door. He sat in down in front of the girl at the table, folding his hands while the girl was still staring at her cup of tea.

”Hello,” he began with a warm and sympathetic voice. “I’m with Confederate Secret Security”, he lowered his voice to a conspirator whisper to make sure it could not be heard outside the room – “The commander of the State Police is on his way. We’ll get you out.” She nodded to communicate her understanding. Chapman reciprocated and raised his voice back to normal levels: “Perhaps you could tell me what happened. It is important.”
“It was an accident”, she replied also with her voice raised to normal levels, “I want to tell my story. But I will tell it alone. Not with all these strange men around. It is very embarrassing.”
“Would you be willing to make a statement for me? I will need to know everything.” She nodded quietly. “I will take you as a witness then. Please follow me.”

He opened the door again, speaking softly to Corporal Wallace Henry at the entrance. “She said that she is willing to make a full statement – but only to me. She is not very trusting.” He sighed, looking back for a moment as the girl stood up. “I think it is best if I take her for further questioning. This place is hardly suitable and as grateful as I am for your hospitality towards so many strangers I don’t think we can reasonably impose on the monastery like this.” He nodded to father Keene in acknowledgement as the girl started to get up.

Mackeown turned and saw the paramedics coming out of a room. Guessing that it was Purins’, he trotted down the hall and into the room. He spotted Maysinger in the room alone. “What are you doing there? Identify yourself.”

Maysinger stood to full length, flipping his pass quikly. “Floris Maysinger. Attached to the Confederate Secret Service. I’m here to investigate the death of the Presiding Bishop of Excalbia as you can imagine.” He squinted his eyes as he watched the police commander, trying to find out who he was facing by the memory of his training sessions on the Confederation. Maysinger had an excellent memory for faces – an absolute must for intelligence officers. “You are the commander of the State Police, am I right? Maekown?” he pronounced failingly with his Dutch accent, “Good to meet you Sir.” He stretched out a hand in greeting.

Half a mobile phone conversation
“Yes. William here. Good morning.

Yes, sorry. Dire events. I’ll tell you on the way, but now I need an ambulance to the Monastery of Saint Columba to retrieve a body.

Saxmere, yes. That shouldn’t be too far from the nearest…

… I understand. Well, wake them up. It’s important. Be quick.

”Send the ambulance. Yes. Have it arranged.

Goodnight. And thanks.”

CORP Henry and Father Trent exchanged glances, then stood and walked towards the door. “I’ll be right out here, sir,” Henry said as they left.
A few minutes later, Chapman walked out and led the woman past them. Henry and Father Trent exchanged glances, wondering if they should do something. Before they could, Sheriff Keene came around the corner. He paused as he spotted Chapman and the woman, his mouth open. Then, he took a few steps forward.
“Umm,” he said uncertain of who was in charge at this point, “Agent Chapman, the Lieutenant Governor and Commandant Mackeown would like to have a word with you.”
The sheriff took another look at the woman. “I can watch the young lady while you speak with them, Chapman…”

* * *

Mackeown shook the man’s hand warily as he studied him with a skeptical eye. “Not from around here, are you, Mr. Maysinger.” Mackeown looked at the man intently. “Mind if I take another look at that ID? And exactly how are you attached to the C.S.S.?”

Meanwhile, down the hall, Lt. Governor Aldaris, Archbishop Thrain and Bishop Kiernan found themselves alone for a moment. “So, Douglas,” Kiernan said looking around to make sure no one was around, “what is this big secret about Baron Kennan. The old man hasn’t even been in the papers for ages…”

Aldaris leaned close to Kiernan and motioned for Thrain to lean in, too. “Old man Kennan died a few weeks ago. His grandson, James Kennan, has assumed the mantle as the Baron of Cambera and is preparing to state his claim to be the Grand Duke.”

Bishop Kiernan shrugged. “So, Douglas? Why does this matter? The Kennans have been claiming the throne of the Grand Duke for two hundred years.”

“I know, Patrick,” Aldaris smiled slightly, “but he is prepared to denounce the Order and announce that he wants to help organize an opposition to Caine’s government here in Saxmere. And he wants to bring in foreign support.”

Archbishop Thrain shook his head. “Support from Excalbia won’t help us make headway against the Order or Caine. They’ll just chalk it up to Excalbian imperialism…”

Aldaris touched the Archbishop’s shoulder. “No, Gregory, not Excalbia. He hopes to rally support from other countries…”

“Then…”

“Shhh,” Aldaris cut off Thrain as he heard footsteps approaching.

"Its fine Sheriff.", Chapman said reassuringly. "I will just turn her over to one of my colleagues for questioning in a more private locale. If you wish, you can tell the Lieutenant Governor that I will be with him here in just a moment.” He smiled for a moment, and then pressed on towards the end of the hall.

---

Maysinger frowned. What a half-whit, he thought to himself, but he hid his disapproval behind his professional air. “Confederate Secret Security”, he emphasised. “My oath of loyalty to the Confederate government is on record, Sir. If you wish to check my identity card you can indulge.” He showed it again, holding it at face-height. “But as you can imagine we have work to do tonight and I would like to get it done before noon. Now, please, allow me to do my job.”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Commandant Mackeown’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve never heard an accent like your anywhere in the Excalbian Isles, Mr. Maysinger, so I’ll ask again. Exactly how are you affiliated with the secret service?”

As he spoke, Mackeown keyed open the mic hanging from his epaulet. He whispered into it, “Run the name Maysinger, see if there’s any connection to the C.S.S.”


Sheriff Keene ran to catch up with Chapman and the girl. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chapman, but I really think you should see the Lieutenant Governor first.” Keene took the girl’s other arm. “He’s right down this hall,” Keene said, gently pulling the girl towards the long corridor.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the Confederation

President Caine laid in bed starring up at the ceiling for several minutes. Then he turned towards his press secretary. “Shannon,” he said softly, “you’d better go.”

With a nod, Shannon Coles gathered her things and made her way out of the president’s room.

After she was gone, Caine picked up the phone. “Get me the Chief of Staff.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” the staffer on the phone said. “Just a minute.” There was a click. “Here is, Mr. President. Dropping out.”

“Mr. President?” Rihards Krauklis asked sleepily.

“Rihards,” Caine said evenly, “what’s going on in Umbra? I just had the Excalbian Chancellor all but threaten war because some bishop of theirs died in a compromising position and they want to take charge of the investigation. I know you had an operation planned, but surely…”

“Mr. President,” Krauklis said nervously, “I assure you, this was not the plan. Let me call our friends and find out what’s going on.”

“You’d better, Rihards.”

After the President hung up, Krauklis frantically dialed his Knootian liaison and waited for an answer.

((Excalbia has a Telegram))

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Maysinger responded mildy offended: “Feel free to check my identy if it makes you feel better. The central authorities will confirm that I am with CSS. And then you will also know that I am under no obligation whatsoever to answer any prying questions beyond my name and security number.”

Chapman, meanwhile, held on to the girls other arm. “I’m sorry Keene. I have my instructions”; he said. “As a member of the CSS investigating the death of a foreign dignitary, I have Federal authority to overrule local police. Please let go of her arm and allow me to proceed with my investigation.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the Confederation
The Knootian AIVD liaison meanwhile was busily and waited for an answer.
“Ernst here”, he began. “Ah, Krauklis, good morning to you too, it’s been a busy night here but how can I help you?”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the Confederation

“Ernst,” Krauklis said, “what in the world is going on up in Umbra? The Excalbian Chancellor just called President Caine going on about their bishop being dead and practically threatening war if we don’t turn the investigation into his death over to them.” Krauklis shook his head. This was giving him a headache. “Killing the bishop was never part of the plan. And war with Excalbia certainly isn’t. So, give me some information so I can let the President know what we need to do to contain this.”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Mackeown ignored Maysinger’s tone as he waited patiently for an answer. After a few moments, the commandant touched the earpiece in his right ear. He nodded a few times, then turned to Maysinger.

“It all checks out, Maysinger. I guess it’s your show, but do you find if I stay here. Just to observe?”

Sheriff Keene looked at Chapman and the girl. Although she was the one caught between the two men, it was Keene who felt like the man in the middle. He didn’t like having state officials, much less Confederation authorities, running around his county. And he liked it even less having the two sides making conflicting claims on him and his men.

“I don’t have any interest in interfering with your investigation, Agent Chapman, but I have to live in this state and that means not getting on the Lieutenant Governor’s bad side.” Keene released the woman’s arm and called out in a loud voice, “Governor Aldaris! Agent Chapman needs to see you.”

Down the hall Lt. Governor Aldaris, Archbishop Thrain and Bishop Kiernan had already halted their conversation at the sound of Keene and Chapman’s distant footsteps. They looked at each other for a moment, then Aldaris headed off towards the sound of the sheriff’s voice.

He arrived to see Keene still standing close to Chapman and the young woman, looking at them warily.

“What is it?” The lieutenant governor asked.

“Sir, Agent Chapman here wants to take the girl away for questioning. He’s asserting Confederation jurisdiction because of the diplomatic implications.”

“Oh,” Aldaris turned to Chapman. “What’s your hurry, son?”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the Confederation
The Knootian on the phone sounded somewhat concerned, but nevertheless calm: “I have no idea what went wrong, maybe it was the gas or maybe the Bishop resisted. The body is not hurt so nothing has been lost yet. I promise that when I learn anything new you will be the first that I call.” He sighed. “So I can’t give you the info yet but if the President could stall just a little… we need some time now to extract the agent and spin the story. And I don’t need to tell you that this investigation is to be exclusively in the hands of the C.S.S. If the Excalbians interfere who knows what could go wrong…”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

The Knootian nodded. “Sure. But please keep out of the way and advise your men to do the same. I want to clear out of this place as fast as the investigation allows us. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to take a closer look at this room. Could I be left alone for a second?” Mackeown looked oddly at the request. “It’s the way I work”, he continued apologetically.

***

”Governor,” Chapman nodded quickly in recognition as he released the girl – leaving her in Sheriff Keenes hands for now. “Could I have a moment alone with you?”

He nodded in the direction of the hallway away from the Archbishop and the Bishop. When they were at some distance he spoke tensely with hushed voice: “Governor, this incident has every potential for becoming highly explosive, with ramifications for the entire Confederation. I’ve just been told that some Excalbians are already on their way with God-knows-what intent but I can tell you that they won’t be happy to see their religious leader dead. And given that relations are as they are…”, he paused to give the politician a knowing look. “I need to get a full statement from that girl now and she is willing to give it to me. All this time we stand her and do nothing but argue brings us closer to the moment when the Excalbians learn of this. There is a monastery full of them here so this will leak. It is in the interest of the Confederation that this matter is dealt with swiftly and by the experts if we want to contain a possible diplomatic crisis. The C.S.S. is fully authorised and capable of taking over this investigation, so please allow me to do my job.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

“The President will put off the Excalbians as long as possible, but they won’t let this go. Their people will probably come here, whether we agree or not, and it will be even more of an international incident if we refuse to let them in. Of course, we won’t let them run we investigation, but it’ll awfully hard to
hide things from them, after they’re here.” Krauklis sighed. “Take care of this, Ernst, and let me know what’s going on.”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

Mackeown clenched his fists. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. But, he wasn’t prepared to turn this into a showdown that might end in violence. “OK,
Maysinger,” Mackeown said turning towards the door, “I’ll be back in five minutes. Just to check on things.”

* * *

Lt. Governor Aldaris warily followed Chapman. He listened closely to the agent. Much of what he said was true, but he still doubted Chapman’s motives and goals. But, there wasn’t much he could do about it.
And looking at Chapman, Aldaris knew the agent knew it, too. “Very well, Chapman,” Aldaris said finally. “Your investigation. Your job. Your head on the
block. But the Governor will be talking to President Caine about this.” Aldaris turned and stalked back towards Thrain and Kiernan.

Later that Morning at the Court of Christ Pantocrator...

Ambassador Rev. Jacob Donnelly waited patiently for his audience with Emperor Andreus. Normally, Donnelly would have transacted his business with the Foreign Minister. Or, occasionally, with the Chancellor, for whom he was developing a grudging respect. However, this matter was for the Emperor’s attention.

Donnelly, dressed in his formal white naval-style uniform, idly inspected the letter he carried. It was written, he knew from a copy, on heavy linen-paper and was sealed in a sturdy envelope bearing the Imperial seal. The front was addressed simply to His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty, Andreus I. The letter inside bore the signature and seal of David IV.

Beside the ambassador, a young man dressed in a distinctively 19th century-style red uniform, complete with gold braids and medals, rocked back and forth on his booted heels. James David Patrick Kennan, Baron of Cambera, was quite comfortable with his surroundings and the formality of court; he had grown up, after all, in the Court of Joshua in Citadel Excalbia. But, he was nervous nonetheless.

He examined his uniform – the uniform of long vanished nation, but one he hoped to revive. While the uniform was something of a fake, he took pride in the fact that the ribbons on it were all genuine – representing either the honours to which he was entitled as heir to the last Grand Duke of Saxmere or honours he had earned as an officer in the Excalbian Imperial Army. By long tradition, the exiled Grand Dukes of Saxmere, despite being stateless, were treated as royalty by the Excalbians and were accorded the right to wear their own uniform when serving in the armed forces.

Hopefully, James thought as he looked around, the Pantocratorian monarch would be sympathetic to the noble ambitions of a fellow Catholic ruler dispossessed of his rightful land…

After their brief wait in the François I room in the French Suite, James and Donnelly were bade to enter the Emperor's office by his private secretary, and the two Varangians stationed by the doorway opened the doors into the Sun King room, where the Emperor sat at his desk signing a warrant, underneath a large portrait of Louis XIV of France. The two Varangians on the inside of the room snapped to attention as the Ambassador and his companion entered, and the Emperor put aside what he was doing and rose to his feet. He walked in front of his desk.

"Your Excellency, it is good to see you again." the Emperor said, nodding to Reverend Donnelly. He waited to be properly introduced before doing anything else.

"Your Majesty," Donnelly said, bowing deeply, "thank you for receiving us." The ambassador rose and gestured to the young man beside him. "Your Majesty, may I present His Lordship, James, Baron Cambera and heir to title of Grand Duke of Saxmere."

James clicked his heels and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty," he said, "it is an honour to meet you."

"Your Majesty," Donnelly said holding the letter towards the Emperor, "His Imperial Majesty, David IV, has commanded that I present you this letter." Donnelly hands the letter to Emperor with a slight bow.

Inside the heavy envelope, the letter reads:


Your Majesty,

I trust this letter finds you well and in good spirits. I find that, for the second time, I am writing you in regard to a noble young man of my household.

The young man being presented to you is the exiled Baron of Cambera and by rights, the Grand Duke of Saxmere. His ancestors were once vassals of the kings and queens of Excalbia, but were deposed by a coup about two centuries ago. Though it greatly pained our first Emperor, at the time, the land had suffered enough of war and there was no opportunity to restore the Grand Dukes to their lands by force of arms.

Instead, the family was given refuge in the Court of Joshua. However, the family has never given up its affection and loyalty to their former lands.

Their former kingdom, Saxmere, became part of Confederation of Sovereign States. Now, like all of the Confederation, Saxmere is threatened by the scourge of that foul Knootian cult, the Order of the Invisible Hand.

James aspires to reclaim his rightful place among his people – by persuasion, not by force of arms – and lead then away from this false religion and back to the Church. It may mean Saxmere’s separation from the Confederation.

Unfortunately, due to our history with the Confederation and the current state of our relations, too much support from my government may well hinder James’ efforts and turn the people against him.

Therefore, I ask you to hear him and explore whether there is any way that Pantocratoria might aid in his quest.

Yours,
David IV

The Emperor took the letter and read it, glancing up over the paper at James every so often. When he finished reading the letter, he set it down on his desk, looked up at the painting hanging on the wall, then slowly turned back towards Donnelly and James, his eyes tracing the rays of light from the window back outside. He gazed out at the gardens throughtfully, and slowly walked over to the window, considering his response carefully. Finally he turned back towards the pair.

"It is an honour to meet you, Monseigneur." he said to James. "I imagine you're at least vaguely familiar with the contents of His Majesty's letter. My Excalbian brother has asked that I assist to return you to your rightful inheritance. As a prince likewise deprived of part of his rightful inheritance, I am sympathetic to your plight. I will do anything in my power to help Your Lordship."

The Emperor turned back towards the window, basking in the warming rays of the afternoon sun.

"His Majesty said in his letter that he feared that too much assistance from Excalbia may in fact prove to be a hindrance to you." he said. "Therefore, I think it would be wise if you left the Excalbian court and joined us here in Pantocratoria. I think such a move would have several advantages for Your Lordship, and I'm sure Donnelly will assure you that you will lose no support from His Majesty by moving to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator."

James nodded as the Emperor spoke. “Thank you,” he said after Andreus pledge to help him. Then, as the Emperor invited him to take up residence at the Court of Christ Pantocrator, his eyes widened.

“That is a most generous offer, your Majesty,” James said slowly. “And quite unexpected. However, as I think about it, it would be a very wise course of action.” James smiled. “His Imperial Majesty was most wise in sending me to you, your Majesty.”

James looked respectfully towards Andreus. “If it pleases your Majesty, may I tell you what steps I have taken so far and discuss some ideas that your invitation have just generated?”

"Certainly, please do." the Emperor said. "I'll listen to you and then give you my thoughts. I doubt very much we can come up with a plan right away, but I'm sure we can make a start."

“Thank you, your Majesty,” James said with a slight bow. “I have already established contact with some political leaders in Saxmere who are opposed to President Caine and the Order of the Invisible Hand. The chief among them is Lieutenant Governor Douglas Aldaris. He planned yesterday to bring into his confidence Archbishop Thrain of Cambera and Bishop Kiernan of Umbra, as leaders of the Church in Saxmere.”

James rocked slightly back on his heels. “So far, I have limited myself to a few public statements denouncing the Order and urging the people of Saxmere not to abandon their faith. With the backing of the bishops and more of the leaders in Saxmere, I had hoped to start issuing stronger challenges against the government and to start reviving the issue of the questionable legality of Saxmere’s incorporation into the Confederation.”

James looked to Ambassador Donnelly, then back to the Emperor. “Upon hearing your invitation, your Majesty, in occurred to me that it might be quite dramatic indeed to have some of Saxmere’s citizens and leaders come here to New Rome to petition me to take a more active role in opposing the Order. In time, and orchestrated correctly, it might even lead to the establishment, with your permission, of an informal court in exile. That would serve to galvanize opposition to the Order and Saxmere and rally the people to my cause…”

OOC: We're in New Rome

IC:

"Or it might make you seem like a distant irrelevancy, idly holding court far away from the concerns of the people you claim to lead." the Emperor cautioned. "I would gather the people best able to help you to your cause, most certainly, but as for a court in exile, I would hold off on that a little. Certainly, however, it would be good for you to receive important persons, especially those of standing not traditionally predisposed towards you, and to do so here rather than in Excalbia may be more palatable, politically speaking, for them."

"I would also caution Your Lordship against making the Church your only cause and only support." the Emperor continued. "If you are the Grand Duke of Saxmere, you are a cause in and of yourself. The Church, as the supporter of legitimate authority, will support you, and naturally you will support it. But if the Church's star is fading in Saxmere, you cannot be restored to your ancestral home by them alone, or if you could, you wouldn't stay there long. Far better for you to be seen as the conciliator, the embodiment of unity and order. You need to be welcomed back by all the people of Saxmere, not just by all the faithful of Saxmere."

The Emperor turned away from the window, and nodded.

"I shall see that you are settled in and received properly." he said. "This won't be easy, as I'm sure Your Lordship knows, but you can count on our support, and together we'll make a valiant effort to restore you. But small steps, small steps. First you must be received as a legitimate prince, be treated seriously, and be seen to be treated seriously. Slowly but surely, the world will sit-up and take notice. Once you're a credible sovereign in exile, and not a pretender to a long dead claim... then you will increasingly be seen as a legitimate alternative to the present regime in Saxmere. But small steps, for now..."

The Emperor looked the man up and down.

"For now you should take off that uniform at the earliest possible convenience, and go off on a nice Caribbean holiday for a few days." the Emperor said. "In a week, put the uniform back on and return. Then you can be received properly as a visiting head of state... instead of some fellow who walked in with the Excalbian Ambassador and an Excalbian letter of recommendation."

OOC: Opps. That's twice now. I must be more distracted and stessed than I thought!

IC:

James nodded as he listened to the Emperor's sage advice. He took his words to heart and heard in them the voice of experience and wisdom. Again, he was grateful that Emperor David had sent him to New Rome and to Emperor Andreus' court.

"Your words are full of wisdom, your Majesty," James said with a bow. "I shall take heed of them and return a week from now. With your permission, I should like to leave behind an aide of mine to serve as my ambassador, if you will. Sir Alec Nugent has served my family for many years and could coordinate my return - as a sovereign in exile. He has been working for the last few days out of the Excalbian Embassy, but is prepared to move into new quarters, where we could raise our own flag, so to speak."

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.
Chapman took the girls arm again, taking her custody back from Sheriff Keenes. “Thank you for your help tonight, Sheriff”, he said politely while taking her arm again as if he were her chaperone the proverbial dance and Keenes could not help but see a small victorious smirk on his Confederate colleagues face. From one of the hallways Chapman snatched another C.S.S. agent who was busily checking if all the doors to individual chambers. The girl, now flanked by two men in black, moved quickly, not looking back one single time.

Tires screeched as their dark vehicle sped out of the gate, speeding out of Saxmere as if the Excalbians themselves were on their heels. Directly opposite of them, an ambulance was working its way up the final stretch of the mountain more slowly. Suddenly the bright lights closed from the exit.

“FUCK!”

The ambulance driver had to steer to the side hastily, almost ending up off the roadside. The driver turned to give the passing car the finger. It didn’t stop. “Woah there!, these guys are in a hurry”, the startled medic in the passenger seat remarked. “So are we”; the driver reminded his companion as they slowly drove past the gargoyles* onto the Monastery grounds.

Inside
When he was finally alone Maysinger went right for his objective. The one important thing in this room – the object he had spotted right after his entry. The girls candle, and the silent witness to what had happened. With a smile he picked up the burning giver of light, regarding it carefully and cradling the flame with one hand. Then, in one move he blew it out abruptly, the flame withering under his breath. He put the piece of evidence away in the pocket of his jacket just as his earpiece murmured a pleasing message: the ambulance had arrived for the retrieval of the corpse.

OOC:
* Its not my monastery but can there be gargoyles please? *bats eyelashes*

"I will arrange a proper embassy for Saxmere in New Rome with Sir Alec." the Emperor nodded. "Make sure you take a private jet back from your holiday, a visiting head of state should arrive in his own aircraft. Once you've been properly received, all the cogs of the machine will start whirring into motion."

The Emperor's private secretary knocked on the door. The Emperor spotted him and nodded.

"And now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I've arranged to lunch with the Lavenrunzian ambassador." the Emperor said. "Your Lordship, Reverend Donnelly."

"Of course, your Majesty," Rev. Donnelly said bowing. As he bowed, Donnelly made a mental note to contact the Lavenrunzian ambassador to discuss opening diplomatic relations.

"Your Majesty," James snapped to attention and bowed, "thank you for everything. One last question, if I may. Should Sir Alec deal with your court staff or should he work through the Foreign Ministry?"

"Both." the Emperor replied. "I'll speak to the Foreign Minister over luncheon, I don't imagine Sir Alec will have any problems from him. Enjoy your holiday, Monseigneur. I look forward to your return."

The Emperor waited for the two men to leave before making his way to the private dining room in the French Suite where he was to have lunch with the Lavenrunzian ambassador.

Rev. Donnelly and James bowed again and left. After they had been escorted out of the palace, they climbed into the ambassador's official car and headed back to the Excalbian embassy.

"Your Lordship," Donnelly said, "where do you plan to go?"

James shrugged. "I hadn't really wanted a vacation and have little use for tropical islands. Perhaps I shall go quietly to Europe and travel a bit. Maybe even visit Knootoss. See the enemy first hand, if you will. But I will be back. In a week." James smiled. "Thank you for help, Ambassador. And I know Sir Alec appreciates the assistance as well."

"It has been our pleasure. And we will continue to do what we can to assist. At least until Sir Alec has established your embassy. I shall arrange for him to call on the Foreign Minister tomorrow. Alone, of course."

"Thank you, Ambassador."

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

The gargoyles* atop the gates of the monastery bore silent witness to the near collision as the ambulance swerved to avoid the screeching black car.

Meanwhile, inside the monastery, Sheriff Keene helplessly watched as Chapman and another C.S.S. hustled the girl out of the building. He spotted Commandant Mackeown walking towards him from the direction of the girl’s room. If anything, the Commandant’s expression looked gloomier than his own.

“Commander,” Keene said, “is everything alright?”

“If things were alright, Sheriff, we wouldn’t have a dead Excalbian bishop in the backroom and a bunch of secret squirrels running around like they own the place.” Mackeown shook his head. “Sorry for taking it out on you, Sheriff.”

Keene nodded with sympathetic expression. “Don’t worry, about it Commander. I agree with you.” Keene looked around to make sure no C.S.S. men were about. “What do you think will come of this, Commander?”

Mackeown frowned. “Nothing good. Those boys are in the pocket of the Invisible Hand. I’d bet my pension on it. I don’t know what this is all about, but I know that the Lieutenant Governor has been convinced by the bishops that Bishop Purins would never have done what it looks like he did. And he has the best instincts I’ve ever seen. So, if he believes, I believe it. And that means this is a set-up. Designed to embarrass the churches and their opposition to Caine and the Order.” Mackeown shook his head.

“Dark days are upon us,” Keene said sadly.

“Indeed. And darker ones are coming.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

The sun was just starting to come up over the skyline of Jefferson as Luke Powers eased the minivan off the expressway and down the ramp towards Independence Boulevard – the capital’s main east-west road. He looked over at his companion, Araceli Kasel, and smiled.

“Well, we’re finally here.” With his left hand he gestured towards the skyscrapers looming before them. “Welcome to Jefferson – ‘The City That Never Sleeps’ – capital of the Confederation and the home of greed and the relentless pursuit of profit. And that was even before the Order of the Invisible Hand showed up. Now, it is even worse.” Luke shook his head. “I look at it now and its like I can see a spiritual cloud hanging over the city like a fog…”

Luke slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing running through a stoplight. “I guess I should concentrate on getting us to my old apartment by the university,” Luke said blushing.

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec Nugent listened carefully as Ambassador Rev. Jacob Donnelly briefed him on the Baron’s meeting with Emperor Andreus. Sir Alec belonged to one of a small number of families who had fled Saxmere with the last Grand Duke when the council of ministers deposed him two centuries ago. Unlike many of those families, however, the Nugents had gradually reestablished family and property ties to Saxmere after its inclusion in the Confederation of Sovereign States. Sir Alec himself had been born and raised in Excalbia around the Imperial Court, but had attended both the Catholic University at Umbra and the University of Jefferson in New Virginia. This placed him in a unique position to help the Baron take his rightful place in Saxmere.

From Ambassador Donnelly’s description the meeting with the Emperor had gone well. “Thank you, Reverend,” Sir Alec said rising. “If you will excuse me now, I have less than a day to prepare for my meeting with the Foreign Minister.” Sir Alec exchanged nods with Donnelly in the Excalbian fashion and returned to his cramped, temporary office in the Imperial Embassy.

Soon, he would have his own Embassy and staff. And selecting that staff would be his first priority. He sat down, ignoring the computer the Excalbians had loaned him, and took out a pad of legal paper and began writing.

*OCC to Knoot - Oh, OK, you can have gargoyles.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Araceli Kasel followed Luke's gestures, taking in the whole city. "Is it really as bad as all that?" She ran a hand through her green hair, frowning to herself. Her soft, slightly overweigh form shifted in her seat as looked out the window, noting the people who seemed to inhabit the city more than the great buildings.

After a while, Araceli spoke again. "There is light in every heart, Luke. There really is. All you have to do is find it and let it out. All people need is hope, something to live for."

She nodded. "Yes, let's get there as soon as possible. I'm aching from the long drive."

Araceli thought a moment. "The more I think of the Order of the Invisible Hand...we're going to need to debate as well as inspire, offer people an alternative way of thinking about the market and other things of that nature. Fortunately, I did remember to bring a few tracts by Her Holiness on the matter."

Luke nodded as he drove. "You're right, Araceli," he said softly. "The last thing we need is for me to be cynical. It's just hard to see people treated like commodities - disposable commodities - and to see the 'all mighty Market' used as an excuse to turnaway from the poor and needy without getting a little angry..."

Luke turned off Independence on a side street where glass and steel gave way to brick and then to cement. "We're almost there," Luke said as he turned on to another street, this one a little run down.

"You're right about debating. But first we need to get a forum and get people's attention. What do you think we should do first to attract attention?" Luke turned the van into a small parking lot. "Here we go," he said parking the vehicle. "We can go up and rest for a bit, then I'll get you settled into your apartment around the corner and look into renting a venue."

Araceli smirked. "Well, that's where my musical talents come in. And we could also flyer and get involved in the community. We shall be known by our works after all and I intend to do good works."

Luke nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said as he opened the van's door. "Here, let me show you my place. We can rest a bit, then I'll take you around to the flat you'll be sharing."

Luke grabbed a couple of their suitcases and led Araceli into a brick building and up several flights of stairs to a modest apartment. "Here we are," Luke said as set the bags down, "the toilet is in the back, the kitchen is over there - though there won't be anything in it - and you're welcome to crash on the sofa. I need to call Amanda and see if she's in, so I can take you over there."

Araceli followed him in, carrying a backpack. "Thanks, Luke." She smiled warmly to him before simply collapsing on the couch, going to sleep in mere minutes. The young woman turned a little in her sleep as she sought a comfortable position on the couch, not even having taken her shoes off.

Luke returned from putting some bags away to find Araceli asleep on the sofa. He shrugged, guessing that she was entitled to sleep for a while; the trip from Excalbia had been long.

Luke yawned and stretched. He has pretty worn out, too. Deciding that it'd be better to take care of things before falling asleep, he picked up the phone and called his college friend.

He chatted for a few minutes with Amanda, then reminded her of her offer to host Araceli. After a few more minutes of working out details, Luke hung up. He wrote a quick note for Araceli, then headed out the door. First, he'd drop Araceli's stuff off at Amanda's, then he'd pick up some food.

On the way to a 24-hour fast food drive-through, he heard a report on the radio that the Presiding Bishop of the Excalbian Church had died over night in Saxmere. The local radio jocks - who had a history of supporting the Order's materialistic and anti-religious view of the world - launched into a series of jokes mocking the Bishop's death. Most of their jokes alleged that he had been a hypocrite who died in his mistress' arms.

Luke shook his head. He didn't know enough about Bishop Purins to know whether the reports might be true or not. But in either case, it was a sad day; one that would only help the Order and make people more skeptical of religion, including the Church of Dana.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

The servants had just finished setting the table in the private dinning room when Shannon Coles, the President’s Press Secretary walked in. She smiled and took a seat as one servant poured her a cup of coffee while another brought a glass of fresh orange juice. Ms. Coles was a regular guest at breakfast and most of the staff knew, though none would dare discuss it, that she was essentially living in Confederation House.

Before Shannon could start on one of pastries arranged on the table, Rihards Krauklis, the Chief of Staff, walked in. “You look awful, Rihards,” Shannon said quietly.

Krauklis frowned. “I’ve been up most of the night trying to sort out this thing with the bishop.” The Chief of Staff took a seat opposite Shannon and drank from the cup of coffee a servant had just placed in front of him.

“Anton, good morning,” Krauklis said as Commerce Secretary Anton Binks entered the room. Then, seeing John Hayes, the Chairman of CE behind him, Krauklis added, “Mr. Hayes, it’s nice to see you.”

Binks nodded and greeted Shannon. Hayes shook Krauklis’ and Shannon’s hands, then took a seat between Binks and Krauklis.

After everyone had been served coffee and helped themselves to a pastry, a door opened and the servants seemed to snap to attention. The people around the table all stood. “Good morning, Mr. President,” Shannon said brightly.

“Good morning everyone,” President Caine said taking his seat. After everyone had returned to their seats, the President motioned for the staff to serve the main course. A variety of eggs, meats, cheeses and sweets were offered to the guests. Once everyone had been served, the servants retired and closed the doors behind them.

Caine turned to Krauklis. “What the hell is going on up in Saxmere, Rihards?”

Krauklis shifted in his seat. “Mr. President, I’ve spoken with the Knootian liaison. He assures me that they are handling the situation. The bishop’s death wasn’t planned. It seems he had a bad heart…”

Caine frowned. “I need details from the Knootians…”

“I’m waiting for them to call me back once they have things in hand…”

“That’s all well and good, but I need to call that frosty witch Freedman this morning or we’ll have the bloody Excalbian navy shelling us by nightfall…”

“Don’t you think that’s an exaggeration, Mr. President?” Binks asked sheepishly.

Caine laughed. “Maybe a little. But, the Excalbians are going to be angry over this. So, how do we handle this?”

Shannon shrugged. “I don’t know how to handle the Excalbians. They’re so self-righteous and stubborn.” She smiled. “But I do know that we can spin this for domestic consumption.”

“How so, Shannon?”

“Well,” she leaned towards Caine, “we start by issuing a statement expressing our regret over the bishop’s death – we talk about what a great humanitarian we was, yada, yada, yada. We send someone big – maybe the Vice President – to his funeral. We offer to carry the senior Excalbian bishop here and the Catholic Archbishop, if he wants to go, to Excalbia as part of the official delegation. Officially, we clamp a tight lid on the circumstances of his death.” Shannon’s smile grew sharp. “Then, we leak out the circumstances. Once they come out, we deplore them. We say that this administration has always believed that people’s personal lives should be kept private, yada, yada, yada.”

“Not bad, Shannon,” John Hayes leaned back in his chair. “Tom, what do you think?”

If Caine chaffed at his mentor’s familiarity, he didn’t show it. “Sounds good. But I need to know what I can tell the Excalbians. Rihards?”

“Yes, sir, I’ll call the Knootians straight away.” Krauklis stood and walked to a door leading to a small side room. He dialed his phone as he walked.

* * *

Luke returned to his apartment with two large bags of groceries. He opened the door and walked in, setting the bags on a kitchen counter. “Araceli? I have breakfast. And some news. Good and bad…”

Monastery of Saint Columba, Sovereign State of Saxmere, C.S.S.

As the sun climbed over the Monastery’s ancient chapel, Commander Mackeown and Sheriff Keene waited impatiently for the C.S.S. men and the ambulance crew to finish their work. Keene had already noted – and informed Mackeown – that he didn’t recognize the ambulance crew. The assumption was that they were C.S.S. men, too. And for that reason Mackeown had an unmarked car waiting to tail the ambulance when in left the Monastery.

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec Nugent had spent a productive morning arranging for some trusted men and women to join him in Pantocratoria to open the Grand Duchy’s embassy to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. He had also pulled off what he considered his first diplomatic coup. All in all, Sir Alec was feeling quite pleased with himself as he waited to meet the Pantocratorian Foreign Minister.

Araceli sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. "Alright. Let's hear the bad news first. It's always better that way."

She stood up and stretched her arms and legs, working out all the cramps from sleeping rather improperly on a couch. She walked over, checking out what was for breakfast.

Emperor David IV stepped out of his limousine surrounded by blue uniformed Imperial Guards. He turned towards the press, who were being kept several car lengths back by local police. Protocol prevented them from yelling questions, as they would have if the chancellor had been there rather than the emperor.

As planned, however, the Emperor did walk over to the press before going into the house. When he was within a meter or so of the press, they called out almost in synch, “Good morning, your Majesty.”

“Good morning,” the Emperor said. “By now I am sure you have all heard the news from Saxmere. We all grieve the loss of Presiding Bishop Purins and I ask that you respect the privacy of his family and depart once I make my call on Mrs. Purins.”

The press murmured and one journalist raised a hand. “Your Majesty,” he said sheepishly, “there have been reports from the Confederation…”

Anger flashed in the emperor’s eyes. “I know the reports you are speaking of. Do not dignify them by repeating them in my presence.” The emperor pulled himself up to his full height. “And let me say this for the record. I knew Bishop Purins. I know what kind of man he was. And I know what kind of people are running the Confederation these days. And if the choice is between believing that Bishop Purins did something that would have out of character for him and contrary to his ministry or believing that the so-called Order of the Invisible Hand is trying to tarnish the legacy of a valiant man who was willing to challenge their treachery, then I shall believe the latter.” The emperor turned towards the assembled TV cameras and looked directly into them. “Finally, I call on President Caine of the Confederation to allow our investigators to take over the investigation and to call the Order to heel for this act.”

The emperor turned and walked up the street to the stone house surrounded by police and went up the steps to greet the widow Purins.

Demetrios Raoul, Minister for Foreign Affairs, sat in his office in the Imperial Parliament building, tapping away on his computer's keyboard. He couldn't believe he had to humour some vaguely aristocratic exile's ambassador on behalf of a region of part of a sovereign nation, with whom Pantocratoria would now be poisoning its relations. He grumbled to himself about imperial authority going too far when it was used in anything other than a ceremonial capacity, when his phone rang.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Monsieur Raoul, Sir Alec is here to see you." came his receptionist's voice.

"Send him in."

Sir Alec Nugent walked into the Foreign Minister's office and bowed slightly at the waste. "Your Excellency," Sir Alec said politely, "thank you for seeing me. I do not wish to take too much of your valuable time, Minister, but I hope you will see the importance of the situation. The Order of the Invisible Hand is a real and growing threat; it seeks to undermine faith as well as social responsibility, economic justice and labour rights. I believe that we will find that it is in both our interests and the interests of our nations to defeat this plague. And," the middle-aged, pleasant looking fellow smiled at Raoul, "I am certain that it would be in your interests and in Pantocratoria's to defeat this threat while it is in Saxmere and before it washes up on your shores."

Sir Alec continued to smile. "With that introduction, may I take a seat and discuss matters further?"

Araceli sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. "Alright. Let's hear the bad news first. It's always better that way."

She stood up and stretched her arms and legs, working out all the cramps from sleeping rather improperly on a couch. She walked over, checking out what was for breakfast.

"Well," Luke frowned slightly, "I was listening to the radio in the van and the Presiding Bishop of the Church of Excalbia - the head of their religion - died last night up in Saxmere. There're rumours that his died in ... well, embarassing circumstances. The Excalbians are hot and are claiming it was a setup. Either way, it plays right into the hands of those who want to dismiss religion and spirituality under the guise of reason, like the Order. It's bound to make things more difficult for us."

Luke turned to the groceries and bags on the kitchen counter. "On the other hand, I bought some stuff and hit a fast food place for breakfast. We have little muffins with eggs and sausages, fried potatoes, coffee and juice; I hope you like it." Luke smiled. "And the good news is that I have your stuff all set up in Amanda's flat and she gave the number of a good friend who can arrange a venue for us and help us with publicity."

Araceli frowned, eyes widening with sudden alertness as she moved over to the food. "What were the circumstances?" She set her jaw, expecting to be rather bothered by the answer but needing to know.

Araceli looked through the food. "It all looks just wonderful. Thank you, Luke. How much do I owe you?"

Raoul restrained himself from snorting at Sir Alec's words. Instead of cynically replying to his assertions about the Order of the Invisible Hand being a threat, he cordially invited Sir Alec to sit.

"Sir Alec, please do bring me up to speed on the situation in Saxmere as you see it." he said, his tone disguising his contempt for the idea that Pantocratoria would be better off for reinstalling a monarchy in place of a secular democracy.

Sir Alec smiled sardonically as he took his seat. “I see in you a healthy skepticism, your Excellency. I only hope that is tempered with an open mind.”

Sir Alec crossed his legs and opened a small leather portfolio. “I realize that, at first blush, this may seem to be more an exercise in humouring the vanity of an exiled aristocrat than a noble endeavour. However, I hope to convince you otherwise.”

The diplomat passed three sheets of paper to the minister. “You called the government of the Confederation a secular democracy. So, rather than starting with musty old claims of usurpation, let me start with the nature of this secular democracy.

“The first page in your hand is a summary of the relevant provisions of the Confederation’s constitution and key legal decisions over its history. As you can see, the Confederation was created as a very loose federation of sovereign states, hence the somewhat unimaginative name. Traditionally, each state has had a great deal of autonomy in setting their own agendas. As a result, the states range from the very modern, liberal and commercialized New Virginia to a very agrarian, conservative Southland to a very industrial and traditional Saxmere. Some states, like Saxmere, have granted social benefits like unemployment insurance, protection for trade unions, subsidized medical care, etc. Others, like New Virginia, have enacted “right to work” laws virtually banning labour unions and provide almost no social welfare.

“The second page you hold is a summary of recent changes in Confederation laws. You will notice immediately that in most cases the Confederation is overriding nominally sovereign state laws to systematically abolish all social guarantees and impose a libertine social policy on the states. You will also note that these actions are being approved by large numbers of legislators from parties whose party platforms oppose such actions.

“The third sheet is a referenced summary of statements collected by the media and by concerned citizens indicating an extensive use of bribery, blackmail and intimidation to, on one hand, force legislators to approve these laws and, on the other, coerce the courts into upholding them.”

Sir Alec’s gaze met Minister Raoul’s for several seconds and held it firmly. “You said, Minister, that the Confederation was a secular democracy. My contention is that it used to be.” Sir Alec handed the Minister a fourth sheet of paper. “This sheet displays in the left hand column known tenants of the Order of the Invisible Hand, statements by Confederation government officials expressing similar views in the centre column and specific, often unconstitutional, legislation enacting those views on the right.”

Sir Alec paused to let the Minister absorb the information. He leaned back in his chair and closed his portfolio. “It is my contention that the Confederation is now a theocratic state. One controlled by men who worship the so-called Market and who are intent on forcing their beliefs on everyone else in the nation, at the expense of intellectual freedom, social guarantees, economic justice and the Constitutional order.”

Sir Alec smiled gently. “One other thing I ask you to keep in mind, Minister, is that the Grand Duke’s family has been in exile for almost 200 years. In all that time, they have made no attempt to restore their rule. Since Tom Caine and the Order came to power, however, Baron James has been contacted by political, spiritual and labour leaders in Saxmere with the request that he work to restore the Grand Duchy as a last resort to preserve it from the hands of the Order. If the Baron should prove successful, he intends to create a parliamentary democracy under a constitutional monarchy. Certainly that would be preferable to the current capital-worshiping theocracy. Especially one that, like Knootoss itself, is probably committed to spreading its pernicious influence to every shore. Including your own, Minister.”

Araceli frowned, eyes widening with sudden alertness as she moved over to the food. "What were the circumstances?" She set her jaw, expecting to be rather bothered by the answer but needing to know.

Araceli looked through the food. "It all looks just wonderful. Thank you, Luke. How much do I owe you?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but according to the jokes people are telling on the radio, it seems he died with a young woman, other than his wife, in his room..."

He looked over at the breakfast. "Hey," he smiled, "its my treat." He helped carry everything over to a small table and pulled up two chairs so that they could eat. "Let's catch up on the news," he said turning on the TV. "Then, I'll take you over to Amanda's and we'll check out that friend of hers."

Raoul started chuckling, slowly, softly at first, but gradually it built up into open laughter.

"The Order of the Invisible Hand..." he sighed, shaking his head. "...in Pantocratoria. You were making a good case until that little gem. Please excuse me, just the idea of the Order of the Invisible Hand in Pantocratoria is just... just too... ah, but anyway, Saxmere."

Raoul composed himself.

"You make a compelling case, and certainly the record supports your assertions. It is frankly very concerning, the trend in the Confederation." the Foreign Minister conceded. "I am not convinced that recognising your cause will do very much to stop that, but then again, I'm not the one who needs to be convinced. I've been ordered to grant you an embassy in New Rome, and my department will work with you to help establish it. You and your staff will enjoy the full diplomatic privileges enjoyed by all the others. I am curious, however, Sir Alec. You and I both agree that the expanding influence of this pro-market religion is detrimental to the Confederation, and to Saxmere in particular. But you yourself admitted that your so-called Grand Duke and his line have been in exile for two-hundred years. I am curious then, Sir Alec, what possible relevancy do you think your Grand Duke has to the ordinary people of Saxmere?"

Sir Alec's eyes narrowed as the Minister laughed. "Once, I, too, would have laughed at the idea of the Order taking over the government of the Confederation and eroding the traditional autonomy of her states."

He relaxed a little as the Minister talked about Saxmere and establishing an embassy for the Grand Duchy.

In reply to the Minister's question, Sir Alec nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "A fair question, Minister. While the Grand Duke's family has been in exile, it has not forgotten Saxmere and has not been forgotten in Saxmere. Relationships of blood and family remain strong between those of us in exile and those who remain in Saxmere. The fact that, until recently, Excalbia and the Confederation were on friendly terms made it easy for many of us to move back-and-forth between the homeland and the diaspora community."

Sir Alec shifted slightly in his seat. "For most Saxmerians, the Grand Duke is a symbol. He confirms that we have our own history, independent and more ancient than that of the Confederation, and our own culture, as rich, as proud and as deeply routed as that of the Holy Empire itself. By comparison, states such as New Virginia are but recent arrivals and gaudy colonists. The Grand Duke is also a unifying symbol. You know, Minister, that the State flag of Saxmere is still the old royal standard of the House of Kennan? Association with the Grand Duke and the old Grand Duchy are proclaimed and advertised by everything from the makers of breakfast cereal to trade unions, some of which still call themselves royal guilds, to our great cathedrals."

Sir Alec sniffed slightly. "Seperating Saxmere, even if done peacefully - as Baron James wishes, will be traumatic. Even if our people are united in leaving the Confederation, they will find ways to divide themselves over how it should be done and what kind of government should be organized after the divorce. Having a Grand Duke back on the throne will bring a measure of unity and stability to the political and social scene, even as these disputes are worked out."

"You make quite a convincing argument, Sir Alec." Raoul conceded. "And don't think I've not noticed your frequent allusions to trade unions. The two of us are working on a different set of fundamental assumptions, the which difference prevents me from agreeing with you, but which doesn't prevent me from seeing the merits of your argument. I'm sure you'll be a most effective advocate for your Grand Duke, Sir Alec."

He stood up, and walked over from his desk to a cabinet. He opened it up and produced a bottle of Scotch and took a pair of glasses out. He poured two glasses, and took both back to his desk, offering one to Sir Alec.

"I propose a toast to effective advocacy!" Raoul offered, and downed his Scotch. "Let's put our difference of opinion about the merits of monarchies aside, and talk about what you believe Pantocratoria can do to advance the cause of this Grand Duke. The Imperial Government wouldn't support a military intervention, and I suspect you wouldn't either, barring exceptional circumstances. I'm sure the Emperor has some interesting ideas about order of precedence at grand balls and state banquets and so on, which I'm sure will be very effective at whatever it is balls and banquets are useful for. What can the Imperial Government do to advance your cause, Sir Alec?"

Araceli frowned. "That does look rather bad, especially with the focus Christianity puts on chastity." She paused a moment. "When you say young...please tell me she was at least of age."

Araceli watched the news, taking in all that had been happening of late with a deep frown. "This is...going to be hard."

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec smiled as he stood to join the Minister in a toast. He took the offered cup and held it for a moment. “And to open minded statesmanship!” Sir Alec downed the Scotch and returned to his seat.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How can the Imperial Government advance our cause,” he repeated softly. Then, he leveled his gaze at the Minister. “First, I think your recognition of us as the legitimate voice of our people will have a major impact. It will help those who are wavering embrace as a viable alternative to the Confederation. And that will bring more supporters forward.” Sir Alec smiled. “In fact, I am pleased to say that this already begun. Earlier today, I spoke with Ryan Edelmann, former President Alderson’s chief of staff. Mr. Edelmann has become one of new government’s most outspoken critics. He has agreed, with your permission, to travel to New Rome to discuss cooperation between our two movements. If the talks go well, I was thinking that we might, again with your agreement, hold a joint press conference to announce our cooperation against the Order.

“And that, Minister, brings me to the second area where you can be of immediate assistance. Join us at our press conference. Lend the Imperial Government’s weight to our criticism of the Order and of Caine’s administration. I am not asking that you withdraw your recognition of the Confederation or take any drastic steps. Rather, I am asking you to endorse our critique of the Confederation – the points I outlined in the papers I gave you – and perhaps offer some of your own. Pantocratoria is a respected nation and if lend your voice to ours, it grants us a measure of instant credibility.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

“As far as I know, she was legal,” Luke said. He ate his lunch in silence as he listened to the news. He shook his head when they played a clip of the Excalbian emperor issuing demands to the Confederation. “It’s almost as if he wants a confrontation, Araceli. I wonder what is wrong with people sometimes.”

As they finished breakfast he nodded in agreement with his companion’s remarks. “You’re right; it will be tough. So,” he stood, “shall we get going? I’ll take you by Amanda’s place then call her friend about getting us a place for you to play and getting some publicity.”

Araceli nodded, slightly relieved. "That's...I won't say good...not quite as bad as otherwise."

The girl watched the news grimly, studying the Excalbian ambassador. "I think he definitely does want a confrontation. I don't see what good he expects to do by having one though. This battle is for the hearts and minds of the people of Sovereign States. Foreign hostility is more likely to rally the people behind President Cain than anything else."

Raoul nodded his agreement.

"I would be most happy to appear with you at a press conference." he said. "And you're right, we needn't withdraw recognition of the Confederation; we can grant recognition to Saxmere as a state which has seceded from the Confederation. So I'll be happy to appear at your press conference."

He took a folder from his desk and handed it to Sir Alec.

"Some important documents for the establishment of your embassy." he explained. "I'm pleased to offer you the Old Caesar Palace. It was built in 1594 and I understand that much of it needs to be renovated, but we'll see that everything is brought up to your requirements."

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec smiled with appreciation. “Thank you, Minister. Your endorsement of our position will be most helpful. I shall contact Mr. Edelmann and have come to New Rome at once. As soon as we can schedule his visit and our negotiations, I will notify your office. I would like to invite you to meet Mr. Edelmann and our plans with both of us.”

Sir Alec accepted the folder from the Minister and looked through it. “Thank you, Minister. This will serve our purposes quite well. We, too, have some resources than can be invested in its restoration. We will try to have at least some of it ready for Baron James’ return next week. If all goes according to plan, I hope that the Baron will return the day after our press conference while Mr. Edelmann is still here, so that the two of them may meet.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Luke nodded. “I agree. I think our approach is the right one.” He stood and turned off the TV. “Let’s get going, OK?”

Some time later, Luke pulled the van into an alleyway beside a six-story brick building. On the ground floor was a large coffee shop, with a stage visible in the back. Luke led Araceli around the back and up several flights of steps to a loft apartment. He knocked on the door.

Amanda Trevor, a young woman with short unkempt brown hair wearing an oversized sweatshirt, opened the door. She smiled at Luke. “Hei, Luke.” Then she turned to Araceli and held out a hand. “You must be Araceli. I’m Amanda. Welcome to Jefferson. Luke dropped your stuff off earlier. Here, come in.” Amanda gestured for the two to enter. She led them to a well-worn sofa and flopped in an old reclining chair.

“So, Luke tells me you’re a missionary from Resurgent Dream. I’ve read about that place. Fairies and dragons and trolls and what-not, eh? We must seem pretty boring by comparison.” Amanda chuckled lightly. “So, tell me what your plans are. I told Luke I’d try to help out any way I can.”

bump.

Araceli nodded, following Luke. "Sure thing."

Araceli followed him up to the apartment, shaking Amanda's hand. "That would be me. Thank you so much for giving me a place to stay. It's a very good sign to be greeted so kindly."

The girl went and sat down on the couch. "No. I don't think you're boring at all. Every nation has its own special points of interests. Ours is our diversity. It's what people come to see when they fly to the Danaan High Kingdom."

She paused, continuing shortly. "So far our plan is to put on some concerts with Danaan music, religious themses, that kind of thing. Once people start coming, start talking to them about what the music means and stuff like that, start up a little congregation."

"Well, Sir Alec, as per the Emperor's instructions, you will have the full cooperation of the Imperial Government." said Raoul, rising and offering Sir Alec his hand. "I hope everything works out well for you. Do inspect the palace and look everything over, make sure that all your requirements are seen to. Be sure to call me when Monsieur Edelmann arrives and you wish to schedule this press conference."

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec stood and bowed to the Foreign Minister. "Thank you, Minister. I shall inform you as soon as Mr. Edelmann arrives and arrange for a visit before the press conference." He extended his hand to Raoul. "We appreciate your assistance and I assure you that the people of Saxmere will forever be grateful to Pantocratoria and to this government."

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Amanda listen carefully as Araceli spoke. "Well, I certainly think Kevin can help you." She explained to Araceli, "He owns this building and the cafe downstairs. He's always looking for live music acts and I know he won't care if you pass out religious literature and stuff." She looked at Luke. "I've been thinking that maybe I oughtta see what this is all about myself." She turned back to Araceli. "It's short notice, but you want to start tonight? I could photoshop some flyers and put up around campus and in the neighbourhood. Kevin would probably put some up downstairs. OK?"

Araceli nodded, a wide grin lighting up her round face. "I'd love to get started as soon as possible. Dana teaches us all to take a proactive hand in making our own destinies. I'd hate to just be slacking while I could be at work on this."

The Danaan looked around briefly. "Shall we get to work on those flyers then? Or would you rather hear some preaching first?"

She slipped her hands into her pockets. Amanda certainly seemed open. That got her hopes up. If a friend of her fellow missionary wasn't receptive, she didn't know who would be.

OOC: I hope you don't mind this, Panto
IC:
Count Rosenburg arrived in the Foreign Minister's outer office, and said politely, "The Lavenrunzian Ambassador to see the Minister, please." He was calm in manner but inwardly had many concerns wheeling through his head, and knew that here his true work was to begin.

Amanda gave Araceli a polite smile and shrugged. "How about the flyers first. You can tell me about your religion while I work on it." Amanda walked over to her computer and opened up her graphics program. "OK, so what do you want it to say?" While she waited for Araceli to answer, she looked over to Luke. "Luke? Kevin oughtta be opening up downstairs. Why don't you go work things out with him."

"OK," Luke said, heading for the door. "I'll be back in a little while..."

Araceli smiled as she moved to follow Amanda. Her eyes focused on the computer screen as she leaned over the other woman's shoulder. "Just say Araceli Kasel is going to be playing Danaan Rock. Best to keep things simple. That's what the Boggans say, anyway."

She turned, smiling warmly to Luke. "Alright. We'll talk to you when you get back. We'll probably have some flyers by then."

"Simple is best when time is the test." She murmured to half to herself. "That's from Peoples, chapter nine, verse twelve. A lot of that chapter is simple, honest sayings like that, which fits for scriptures about Boggans. Of course, the whole book of Peoples..." The woman paused, laughing at herself. "I'm sorry. You've never...This is my first time starting a mission on my own. I always just played music and went with High Priest Gearing before. You know, once people start coming in, Luke has a very good chance of eventually becoming High Priest of Dana for Sovereign States."

OOC: I hope you don't mind this, Panto
IC:
Count Rosenburg arrived in the Foreign Minister's outer office, and said politely, "The Lavenrunzian Ambassador to see the Minister, please." He was calm in manner but inwardly had many concerns wheeling through his head, and knew that here his true work was to begin.
OOC: Of course not. We still have to have Rosenburg's meeting with the Emperor in our relations thread by the way!

IC:

Demetrious Raoul rose to his feet to greet yet another foreign aristocratic type, and Count Rosenburg was ushered in.

"Your Excellency," Raoul said, nodding. "A pleasure to see you. I trust that you have found the Palais des Jardins suitable for your requirements? Please, come in and sit down. With what may I help you today?"

Araceli smiled as she moved to follow Amanda. Her eyes focused on the computer screen as she leaned over the other woman's shoulder. "Just say Araceli Kasel is going to be playing Danaan Rock. Best to keep things simple. That's what the Boggans say, anyway."

She turned, smiling warmly to Luke. "Alright. We'll talk to you when you get back. We'll probably have some flyers by then."

"Simple is best when time is the test." She murmured to half to herself. "That's from Peoples, chapter nine, verse twelve. A lot of that chapter is simple, honest sayings like that, which fits for scriptures about Boggans. Of course, the whole book of Peoples..." The woman paused, laughing at herself. "I'm sorry. You've never...This is my first time starting a mission on my own. I always just played music and went with High Priest Gearing before. You know, once people start coming in, Luke has a very good chance of eventually becoming High Priest of Dana for Sovereign States."


"Really?" Amanda asked excitedly. "High Priest? Wow." The girl turned back to her computer, tapped on a few keys and make a few mouse clicks. A couple of minutes later, she turned to Araceli.

"What do you think?" Araceli gestured to the screen, where a simple, but brightly colored and eye-catching flyer announced that Araceli Kasel would be playing the latest in new music - Danaan Rock - at the Coffee University Cafe.

"So, the book of Peoples and Boggans, eh? Tell me more."

bump

Araceli grinned. "Well, yeah. Who else would they get? Luke's really the one bringing Danaanism to Sovereign States." She spoke quickly, clearly rather excited.

Araceli nodded as she looked at the screen. "That looks great, Amanda. Thank you very much!"

"Well, the book of Peoples tells the story of the specific encounters of all kinds of specific peoples with Dana and the Tuatha. Boggans are just one of them. But Boggans are among the most amiable people you'll ever meet. Their whole culture is built around service and helping other people and hard work. They're simple farmers and craftsmen for the most part, well-known for their industrious character. Still, they are terrible gossips and rather skilled at picking up the social dynamics of any given situation. If you want to keep some social connection secret, don't be around them when in the presence of Boggans."

Araceli laughed a little, looking around. "When do you think he'll be back?"

Amanda looked at Araceli a bit wide-eyed. “Really? High priest. Wow. Before he went to Excalbia, Luke was a seeker, but also bit of an atheist.”

Amanda listened quietly as Araceli spoke. “The Boggans sound fascinating. I think I’d like to meet some of them. And hear more of your stories…”

Just then, the door opened and Luke walked in with a smile. “Well, it’s all set. Araceli,” Luke smiled at the young musician, “you’ll do two sets tonight – I hope that’s OK. And you’ll be on three nights a week.” Luke walked over and looked at the flyer. “Looks great, Amanda. Print it out and I’ll take one down now to post and go to make copies.”

As the flyer printed, Luke rubbed his hands excitedly. “This is great. I really feel like we’re starting something important here…”

bump

Araceli grinned at Luka as he came back in. "That's great, Luke. Maybe we could spend the rest of the afternoon studying scripture. You've still got a lot of reading to do."

((OOC: basically, to save time after another lapse of posting on my part, I can summarise that the Knootians would completely agree with Caines plan. As exemplified by the following post.))

A small city hospital in northern New Virginia.
An unmarked car parked itself quietly in front of the St. James Hospital Auditorium, waiting for the ambulance to move in under the guise of the early morning light. Quietly, a doorway marked ‘Autopsy’ opened and a movable bed on which a human shape was covered by a white sheet was driven inside.

About two days later, in a big New Virginia newspaper the story was leaked:

Bishops death rocked in scandal

SAXMERE – Hours after the announcement of the St. James Hospital director that Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins of Excalbia died a natural death as the result of a heart attack, this paper recieved confirmation by reliable sources that, at the time of his death in the Monastery of Saint Columba, Purins was cheating on his wife with a prostitute and that he died while being intimate with her.

The woman in question – who prefers to remain unidentified – has managed to smuggle out her side of the story through her lawyer. (Full statement see page three.) Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins had admitted to her that he regularly used the paid services of both men and women for his sexual relief and that he greatly enjoyed seeing her dressed up as a nun. The prostitute stated that she was very shocked by the death of her client, but assured that she could have done nothing to prevent it.

Yesterday a New Virginia mother also filed a paedophilia charge against her local church, implicating six members of the clergy in abusing her six year-old daughter. The case has caused shock and outrage in the local community as the mother, who had only recently been converted, was a well-liked member of the community.

These revelations may have profound implications for the church which has already come under attack, notably in New Virginia, over supposed meddling in the political affairs of the state. Critics voiced their outrage in their initial responses to the news: “How can a church claim to defend the very moral values that it blatantly ignores?”, one MP asked. Others have called the revelations “potentially devastating”, “earth-shattering” and “eye-opening”. Professor Meldner of Postmodern Ethics immediately related the death to a larger trend of incidents: “You see an increasing distance between the church and the values of the common people. In Lavenrunz the church values have some to be associated with fascism and – in Tarasovka – with outright terrorism. In Pantocratoria the religious parties were massively voted out of office as soon as real democracy was instated, and the recent Reich invasion of Syskeyia has shown how the Catholic church is used as an instrument for killing millions by both sides. This will have its impact on how people view the church in the long run.”
(more on page three)



Legal professionals unite against ‘Excalbian Imperialism’
JEFFERSON - In response to a call by the Emperor on President Caine to allow Excalbian investigators to take over the investigation into the death of Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins, a group of legal professionals including lawyers, judges and some members of the Federal Justice system have united against such a proposal, citing it as ‘Excalbian Imperialism’.

The group, which calls itself Legal Professionals For An Independent Sovereign State has fiercely condemned letting Excalbian investigators in as ‘Unfounded Extratoriality’, accusing the Excalbian government of attempting a cover-up at the expense of the Confederate justice system.
[continues on page six]

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Luke nodded to Araceli. "That's a good idea. Why don't you start with a reading?" The young man took a seat near the singer and made himself comfortable.

Later that evening, Luke stood on stage to introduce Araceli to half-full house at the coffee shop. The crowd paid little attention to the music, though some listened closely and few passed by after the concert to ask about Dana and the beliefs Araceli had sung about.

The second set was somewhat better attended, though the crowd was more boisterous and less attentive.

Over the next two days, the crowds grew slowly but steadily and a small band of followers - Amanda had been the first - joined Luke passing out literature after Araceli's concerts.

The morning of the third day, Luke, Araceli and Amanda sat over breakfast in the cafe that had become the unofficial headquarters of the Danaan church in Jefferson. Luke picked up the paper and his face twisted into a look of disgust. "Now it begins," he passed the paper the Araceli. "The general assault on religion is underway. Now, we have to work even harder to distinguish ourselves from the Christians..."

* * *

That same morning, in the private dining room of the Presidential residence, President Thomas Caine sat reading the same paper. A smile broke across his face as he passed the paper to Shannon Coles, his press secretary. "It looks like the plan is moving along at a good pace. Rihards and his Knootian friends are doing good work."

Shannon suppressed a slight giggle. "I especially like the second article. Blasting Excalbian imperialism will bolster our own support." She sipped her coffee and rubbed her foot against the President's leg.

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec starred sullenly at the print-outs - he hated reading things on the darned computer - from the New Virginia newspapers. He crumpled them and tossed them in his wastebasket. He knew his staff would properly archive file copies, so at least had the satisfaction of venting some of his anger.

The next paper he picked up to read brought a sigh of relief and the shadow of a smile. He laid the paper aside and picked up his phone. "Helen?" He said as his secretary answered at the other end. "Could you inform the Foreign Minister's office that Mr. Edelmann will be arriving today and that we hope to be able to meet with him at the Minister's convenience tomorrow or the day after."

Sir Alec leaned back. Soon the Grand Duke-to-be will return, he thought, and by then we should have most of the opposition in the Confederation ready to follow him. Then, he thought with a determined smile crawling across his face, we can get started in earnest.

Araceli played for the crowds both times, singing of heroic stories from scripture with a rock beat. She smiled at the crowd and sold a few CDs as well as helping the other two come up with pamphlets to pass out.

The third day, she looked over. "What's happened?"

Citadel Excalbia, Holy Empire of Excalbia

The blue and gold Boeing 737 touched down smoothly despite the light drizzle. It taxied passed a troop of Imperial Guards, clad in anachronistic plumed helmets and gold breastplates, and came to a stop with its cargo door in front of a red carpet. As the Imperial Air Force plane cut its engines, an honour guard bearing the Imperial flag and the flag of the Church of Excalbia approached the cargo door. Four uniformed Imperial Guards opened the doors and moved a casket, draped in the flag of the Church of Excalbia, to the edge of the hold.

As the honour guard dipped their flags, three acolytes bearing candles and a cross accompanied Bishop Graham Spelve to the front of the casket. The bishop held a censer with burning incense and he swung it in a slow, gentle motion as he mouthed a silent prayer. Then, with the acolytes and bishop leading the way, followed by the honour guard, Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins’ casket was removed from the plane. In silence, the casket was placed in a hearse, which began making its way to Excalbia Cathedral.

Once the late Presiding Bishop’s body had been released by St. James Hospital in New Virginia, it had been flown immediately to the Holy Empire. In the air, forensic experts had taken as many tissue samples as possible for a complete examination. A pathologist had examined the body and concluded that there were no signs of trauma and that the condition of the heart was consistent with a heart attack. The real test, however, would be an examination of the tissues for poisons and toxins. The Ministry of Defence had already ordered that its D.A.I.N. Six artificial intelligence be made available to assist the Ministry of Technology’s D.A.I.N. Six in analyzing the test results.

With all of this completed in the air, the Bishop Purins’ body was ready for the state funeral as soon as the plane landed.

The rainy gray skies above the capital seemed to fit the mood of the city as the motorcade carrying the body approached the Cathedral. Inside, the congregation, including the diplomatic corps – with the notable exception of the Confederation’s Ambassador, who had been publicly uninvited – and the cabinet, had already been seated. Just before the hearse arrived another motorcade stopped in front of the Cathedral.

Trumpets playing ruffles and flourishes were followed by the Imperial anthem. The congregation stood and turned to the doors of the Cathedral. There were a few audible gasps as Emperor David IV entered clad, for the first time since his coronation, in full Imperial regalia. Over his gleaming white naval uniform, the Emperor wore a deep blue cape held together at the shoulders with a heavy golden chain. The Emperor rested his right hand on the Sword of Alsgood and carried the Imperial scepter in his the crook of his left arm. On his head he wore the Imperial crown. Behind the Emperor was Empress Elizabeth and behind her followed Prince Joseph and his wife, Princess Anna of Pantocratoria, Princess Rebecca, Prince James, Princess Christiana and Prince Peter.

Arriving in the front of the Cathedral, the Imperial family entered the box reserved for them. The Emperor handed his scepter and Sword to Imperial Guards, then removed his crown. The Emperor’s face was as hard as stone and his eyes held a frightening look.

After the Imperial family had been seated, Admiral Sir Derek Kunle, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, escorted the widow Purins to her place with the Imperial family.

After a few moments, the doors at the rear of the Cathedral opened again, and the congregation returned to its feet. Acolytes bearing candles and a cross entered the nave, followed by two Excalbian priests with censers. Behind the priests, Bishop Spelve, the Secretary of the Church Synod, and Bishop Blaine Repse, the presiding bishop of Citadel Excalbia, led the entire synod of bishops to the altar. They were joined by other religious leaders, including John Cardinal Friesz, the President of the Excalbian Catholic Council of Bishops.

Behind the bishops, an honour guard preceded the flag-draped casket of Bishop Purins. As the casket made its way down the aisle, a lone bagpiper stepped forward and began a mournful rendition of Amazing Grace.

For Immediate Release

A Statement by the Honourable Albert Cummings, Minister of State

“On behalf of His Imperial Majesty’s Government, I am authorized to state for the record that the conclusions of Confederation of Sovereign States’ investigation into the death of Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins is flawed, fallacious and part of an intentional smear campaign. The administration of President Thomas Caine, acting as a front for the Order of the Invisible Hand, has declared war on religion and people of Faith in the Confederation. Bishop Purins is a martyr in that struggle and will forever be revered in the Excalbian Isles.

“In view of the Confederation’s refusal to allow Excalbian experts to participate in the investigation, His Imperial Majesty’s Government has no choice but to conclude that the Confederation is orchestrating a massive cover-up. Therefore, we are recalling our Ambassador to the Confederation for consultations.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Luke handed the paper to Araceli. “It’s all there in the paper. They’re smearing the Excalbian bishop, saying that he was a serial adulterer and implying other things. Also, they’re making claims of abuse against other Christian clergy. Certainly those claims could be true, but the timing of the accusations to coincide with revelations about the Excalbian are just too convenient for the Order. It looks like a smear job.” He looked at Araceli. “We’ll have to be very careful; if we’re as successful as I hope we’ll be, then they might come after us, too.”

* * *

Janice Rudeles, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, sat rather stiffly across the desk from the President. She, like all of the cabinet, was a member of the Order of Invisible Hand. But, she was a relatively new convert and not part of the President’s “inner circle.” She had been chosen for her position because of her resume – she had been a diplomat under previous administrations before becoming an academic at the University of Jefferson.

It was her writings about the economic dimensions of international relations that had brought her into contact with the Order. Yet, her past, with no business connections – no direct experience of the Market – made her suspect in the eyes of some.

All that meant that her relationship with President Caine was far more formal than those of the rest of cabinet.

“So, they’re giving us a public snub, eh?”

“Yes, Mr. President. The sent a Note to our Embassy late yesterday saying that our Ambassador would be unwelcome at the funeral.”

Caine nodded. “What do you make of their recalling of their Ambassador and of Minister Cummings’ statement?”

“Recalling their Ambassador is a fairly standard diplomatic expression of pique. It would be more serious if they expelled our Ambassador. They haven’t. Yet. But it is being rumoured in Citadel Excalbia that the Ambassador, and our entire senior staff, might be declared persona non grata.”

Janice shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Cummings statement certainly wasn’t a surprise.” She leaned forward and pursed her lips as if she was about to share a secret. “What seems to be far more interesting is the behaviour of their Emperor.”

“Oh,” the President arched an eyebrow, “how so?”

“He is increasingly draping himself – literally – in the trappings of traditional imperial power. Now, if he were Andreus I of the Pantocratoria or any of a host of other monarchs, that wouldn’t be so unusual. However, the Excalbian monarchy has been rather low-key in the last 50 years or so and David IV, himself, was notably casual.”

“So,” Caine leaned forward, “what do make of it?”

“My guess is that he is feeling increasingly stressed and under threat and is using those trapping to counter his own doubts and anxiety. Creating an aura of invincibility to protect himself from his own feelings of vulnerability.” She lowered her voice slightly. “I also fear that it is a sign that he is becoming somewhat paranoid and detached. Some of my analysts actually fear a constitutional coup in Excalbia, with the Emperor assuming autocratic power. And possibly adopting an even more warlike and hostile policy.”

Caine rubbed his chin. “Hmmm. All the more reason to accelerate our military purchases from Knootoss.”

“Yes, sir.”


New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec Nugent stood in the great hall of the Old Caesar Palace, now the reception room of the Embassy of the Grand Duchy of Saxmere. He glanced at his watch, and at just the appointed moment, the doors at the opposite end of the hall opened. A man in a dark suit, escorted by two Embassy officials, entered the hall and approached Sir Alec.

“Your Excellency,” the man said, extending his hand.

“Mr. Edelmann,” Sir Alec said, taking the man’s hand, “it is a pleasure to meet you.” Sir Alec led the former chief of staff of ex-President Alderson to a small circle of chairs arranged next to an ornate fireplace. “Please be seated,” the Ambassador said, gesturing to the chair.

Ryan Edelmann took the indicated seat and leaned towards the older, distinguished looking aristocrat. “Thank you for your invitation, Sir Alec. Those of us in the many strands of the opposition hope that we can find a common ground to oppose Caine and the Order.”

Sir Alec nodded as listened. “That is exactly the reason for my invitation, Mr. Edelmann. As you know, the Baron of Cambera has become a leading voice in opposing President Caine’s erosion of state sovereignty and the growth of the Order. The religious and secular leaders of Saxmere have beseeched the Baron to take a strong stand, and he has heeded their calls. However, he knows that Saxmereans are not alone in opposing Caine. You, Mr. Edelmann, have been one of the strongest voices in all of the C.S.S. denouncing Caine and his administration. It is essential that, as you said, we find common ground to stand together against Caine.”

Edelmann smiled. “We are prepared to stand with you and the Baron.” Edelmann reached into his jacket and pulled out a sealed envelope. “This is a letter from former President Alderson proposing certain avenues of cooperation.” Edelmann handed the letter to Sir Alec.

As the older man read the letter, he began to smile. “Excellent. We will meet with the Pantocratorian Foreign Minister, Monsieur Raoul, tomorrow. I think by then we can have a suitable joint platform prepared…”

Araceli frowned a little. "Well, I certainly have nothing to hide in my personal life. I'm a virgin. I've never touched drugs. I've never committed a crime." She looked to the other two.

Amanda and Luke looked at each other and blushed, then turned back to Araceli.

"Um, well, I, um, well," Amanda said blushing.

Luke smiled sheepishly. "What I think Amanda is trying to say is that neither of us were pure before our conversion. Nothing illegal, mind you, but lots of normal college stuff, I suppose." Luke looked evenly at Araceli. "All the more reason, I think, for you to be the public face of our movement."

Araceli smiled a little. "That and I'm the musician. But I'm also a foreigner. I'm not sure if people will respond as well to it from me. You need to be studying the Scriptures, Luke, from Origins all the way through the Eschatologia. Once we get enough of a following to actually start having services, I want you to be giving the sermons. I'll do the music." She smiled at Amanda. "What would you like to do?"

Throughout the funeral service, Princess Anna's thoughts kept on turning towards the religion of the child she was carrying. She hadn't yet attended a service of the Church of Excalbia with the imperial family in an official capacity, and in the midst of Excalbia Cathedral it was natural enough for her thoughts to turn to such things.

She looked across to her father-in-law, bedecked in imperial splendour, and thought to herself that he looked very strained. She reasoned that he probably knew Bishop Purins very well, and was therefore understandably quite upset. She remembered that the murder of Cardinal Duras had set her own father in a foul mood for a fortnight. Both her father and her father-in-law were quite heavily involved with their respective churches, and she knew that the prospect of having to deal with some new unknown in Purins' place could only seem like an additional burden to an already over-worked Emperor David, just as her own father had found the contrast in styles between Cardinal Conomos and his predecessor an unwanted distraction in his relationship with the Church. It was Anna's observation that on the whole, monarchs didn't like change unless they had been its author.

After the service had concluded, when the opportunity presented itself, Anna went to speak to the Emperor.

"The regalia is most becoming on Your Majesty." she started in perfect but softly-spoken English, not entirely sure from the Emperor's expression whether he was in the mood for such compliments. "I'm sure His Grandure would've appreciated the ceremony, it was very fitting for a man of such prominence. His death deserves to be treated with respect and dignity, and you have given him that, despite the best efforts of the tabloids. If I may ask, did you know the Bishop well?"

***

Demetrios Raoul waited for the Saxmerean delegation in a sumptuously appointed meeting room in the Palace of the Imperial Parliament. The large, almost rough-looking former union boss looked vaguely out of place in such surrounds, and he didn't feel entirely comfortable sitting there, although that may have had more to do with the knowledge that just a few rooms away, the press gallery was settling in waiting for a joint press conference at which there was a good chance, to Raoul's reckoning, that he would lose his credibility by endorsing an exiled aristocrat over a democratically elected government, no matter how flawed.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Luke nodded as Araceli spoke. “I’ve been reading and studying.” He smiled somewhat shyly. “As much as I can between taking care of logistics. What I really need is someone to take over the organizational stuff.” He looked towards Amanda, who laughed.

“Alright, Luke, Araceli.” She shook her head. “I’m not the most organized person, but if it’ll help Luke to have more time for study, I’ll take on more of the organization.”

“Good,” Luke said, turning to Araceli. “We need to think about our first services. The café isn’t the best place for regular services. There is a recreation center nearby with a meeting hall we could use. But under the current climate, they’re nervous about hosting a religious group. I think we’ll need to meet with them Araceli and convince them that it’ll be ok to rent to us.”

New Rome, Pantocratoria

The doors of the meeting hall opened and parliamentary aides ushered two men into the room. Sir Alec Nugent, with his graying hair, wire rimmed glasses and dark suit adorned with medals, was the picture of an aristocratic diplomat. Ryan Edelmann, too, wore a dark suit. His stocky frame and rounded features, however, make him look like anything but an aristocrat. In fact, he looked like a pugnacious political operative, which was exactly what he was.

Sir Alec walked up to Minister Raoul, bowed slightly, then stood and offered his hand to the Minister. “Monsieur Minister, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Sir Alec turned and gestured to Edelmann. “May I present to you Ryan Edelmann. Mr. Edelmann was the chief of staff to President Ilmars Alderson, President Caine’s immediate predecessor.”

“Minister Raoul,” Edelmann said extending his hand. “Sir Alec has told me of the enormous hospitality your government has extended to Saxmere. He has also shared with me some of your reservations about opposing a duly elected government in the C.S.S. As a representative of a different political base – my home state is Southland, not Saxmere – I hope I can relieve some of your doubts and give you a fuller picture of the anti-democratic nature of the Caine regime…”

David IV smiled wearily at his daughter-in-law. He placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Anna,” he said warmly. “Yes, I knew Bishop Purins quite well. He has, or rather had, been Presiding Bishop through out my reign. It was he who presided at my coronation.”

The Emperor sighed heavily and looked into the distance. “He was a good man. A good man. These last few years, with all the unrest in Upper Virginia, I have, er had, grown increasingly to rely on his spiritual counsel.” The Emperor turned back to Princess Anna. “We do not have the sacrament of confession in our Church, but, if we did, Bishop Purins would have been my confessor. I trusted him with my spiritual health.”

The Emperor shook his head. “There is no way those lies could be true.” David IV appeared for a moment to be on the verge of tears. He shook his head again and forced a smile. “Pardon me for a moment.” He walked away a short distance and pretended to study a detail of a stained glass window.

Prince Joseph walked up to his wife and gently touched her arm. “My father doesn’t seem quite to be himself these days, Anna. I think this latest crisis is starting to takes its toll on him…”

Anna allowed Joseph to lead her off to a discreet distance before talking further.

"Taking its toll in what way?" she asked. "I know he looks stressed, but that's natural after the death of such a trusted confidant. And despite that stress, he was most impressive today, don't you think?"

Indeed, the formal majesty and pomp of the ceremony would've seemed quite natural and appropriate in New Rome.

Even as Joseph listened to Anna his eyes darted back and forth between his wife and father and a worried looked creased his handsome features. “Je sais que tout paraît normal, mon amour,” he said softly in French. One of the benefits of marrying Anna had been the opportunity to learn and use French. And, at times like this, it was very useful for holding private discussions. “However,” he continued in French, “normal in Pantocratoria is far different from what used to be normal in Excalbia. This is the only the second time in his reign that my father has worn the full Imperial regalia. Before, even when he was on active duty in the Navy as a prince, he wore his uniform as little as possible. Now, he wears his naval uniform almost all the time. It is almost,” Joseph paused and sighed, “it is almost as if he sees himself leading troops in battle. His conversation is increasingly filled with talk of war and all things martial.”

Joseph gently pulled Anna towards him and whispered, “Mother says that he isn’t sleeping at night. He’s calling his ministers and the General Staff at all hours of the morning. Most nights, when she goes looking for him, she finds him either in the Chapel – often he was there with Bishop Purins, even in the middle of the night – or the Map Room.” Joseph shook his head. “This just isn’t normal – for him.”

"Qu'est-ce que c'est, normal?" Anna replied, switching to French. "There's nothing that is normal where emperors are concerned."

She studied Joseph's features thoughtfully as she rested her head on his shoulder. He was clearly very worried about the emperor's behaviour, and he certainly knew his father a lot better than she. Even though the things he described didn't sound unusual for her father, and even though she therefore didn't find them particularly troubling, the fact that Joseph found it troubling was enough to make Anna concerned for her father-in-law's behaviour.

"Joseph..." she continued in French, speaking his name with a soft J. "Perhaps we shouldn't return to Langeais immediately. Perhaps we should stay here with your family for a little while, create a more... family atmosphere at court? To make His Majesty feel more comfortable, less alone?"

***

"Messieurs," Raoul said, shaking each man's hand, before gesturing for them to be seated. "Thankyou for coming. It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Edelmann. Please, I am very interested in hearing what you have to say about the situation in the CSS, and then we can talk about what we here in Pantocratoria can do to assist."

Joseph put his arm around Anna, pulling her even closer to him. "I think that would a wonderful idea, Anna. More of a family-oriented atmosphere might be precisely the tonic he needs." He gently kissed the top of her head. "You are brilliant, my love."

Araceli looked slightly startled but she nodded. "Alright. We'll meet with them. Can you set something up, Amanda?"

(OOC: With the funeral for Presiding Bishop Purins over, now it is time to vote for a new Presiding Bishop. You can record your preferences here: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=411426.)

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Ryan Edelmann regarded the Pantocratorian Foreign Minister for a few moments. The man seemed more a hardnosed politician than a professional diplomat. Edelmann smiled. He felt he could relate to Raoul and decided to deal with him directly.

“Well, Minister,” Edelmann said, “to put it directly, the Order of the Invisible Hand – in the person of President Caine – is steadily eroding democracy in the C.S.S.” Edelmann held up a hand. “Now, I realize that President Caine was duly elected in a fair, democratic election and that my view could be dismissed as sour grapes.”

Edelmann leaned back in his seat. “However, even disappointed losers can have a point and Tom Caine would not be first would-be tyrant to come power through the ballot box.” Edelmann shrugged. “It all depends, I guess, on your definition of democracy. In the C.S.S. I grew up in, democracy meant respect for the rights of the minority and the rule of law, not the tyranny of the ‘majority-of-the-moment.’

“A big part of our rule of law includes a high degree of sovereignty for the various states making up the C.S.S. Because of that, there has always been a great deal of difference between the states in terms of social and economic policy. My state, Southland, is fairly agrarian, highly conservative and has never support trade unions or provided much in the way of social welfare. Deandra, however, has always offered extensive social guarantees and Saxmere is the home of strong trade union movement.

“Since Caine has been in power, however, the Confederation government has passed a number of measures to impose a very laissez faire, pro-business policy on the states.” Edelmann smiled. “Now, as an economic conservative from Southland, I tend to agree with those policies, but it is a violation of our laws to impose them on Deandra or Saxmere.

“Additionally, I’m very troubled by how he’s carrying out these changes. Take Joseph Sumners, the new Speaker of the House of Representatives. He’s a member of the New Liberal Party from Deandra and heads a narrow center-left coalition in the House. You would think he’d be leading the opposition to Caine’s policies, yet he’s used his powers as Speaker to silence opposition within his own party and force everyone of Caine’s legislative changes through, even while voting against most of them. Now, why would that be? Could it be because Caine arranged for members of his Liberty Party to support Sumners’ election as Speaker? Could it have anything to do with Sumners’ growing stock portfolio?”

Edelmann finally paused for a breath. “Sumners is but one example of the widespread corruption that is slowly strangling the opposition to Caine and eroding our laws and traditional values.”

Edelmann reached into his pocket and produced an envelope, which he handed to Raoul. “This is a letter from my former boss, President Alderson – Caine’s predecessor.”

Edelmann traded glances with Sir Alec. “Like me, President Alderson is a patriot, who loves the C.S.S. and what it stands for. Like me, however, he can see that Caine is destroying the Confederation. So, very reluctantly, he has come to the realization that it might be necessary to ‘destroy the village in order to save it.’ In that letter, he states that he is prepared to endorse Saxmere’s secession from the Confederation and its resumption of independence under whatever government its people may choose. It is his hope, and mine, that this will stir the people of the other states to reclaim their rights and liberties and reclaim the Confederation itself before it is too late.”

He paused to let the Foreign Minister read the letter, then continued. “As for what Pantocratoria can do, Minister, you can recognize the provisional government of Saxmere and encourage international recognition of Saxmere. Providing Saxmere, and other critics of Caine, such as myself, with a platform to speak about the need for secession, will help break the Saxmerians free of Caine and may just help the rest of us escape his grasp as well.”

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S

Amanda smiled. “Well, I guess there’s no time like the present to get started as your new manager and organizer.” She chuckled. “Alright, I’ll set up the meeting. Luke, can you get the number for me?”

“Sure,” Luke said writing a name and number on a sheet of paper and passing it to Amanda. “While you take care of that, Araceli and I will study. Do you mind going over the readings with me, Araceli?”

"Of course." Araceli said with a grin. She took the Holy Scriptures and opened it to the first book, Origins. "Let's start with Origins. It tells about how Dana, the Creator of Heaven and Earth and the embodiment of pure creation, made all that is. She ordained the high destinies of all ensoulled creatures. She set the sun in the heavens and the stars in the sky. She started the turning of the seasons. Most of the book is about nature, about the natural order of the world, and things along those lines. The ensoulled beings had just been destined at that point and hadn't been brought to be. It tells how Dana had forseen eight races of fairy and had found something missing. It tells how she created man but destined him to awaken in after times."

Araceli smiled. "There's certainly a lot in this book but there's certain key theological points we should focus on. All ensoulled beings not only have but are a high destiny. Not only does Dana have a special end for them but they are glorious ends-in-themselves. The universe is infused with the energy of pure creation and contains endless possibilities and the potential for creativity, beauty, and wonder without limit. Unfortunately, this book also introduces us to the sad truth of the Nightmare Queen, the shadow produced by the light of Dana. She too has great power but must ultimately yield to Dana at the end of time. Until then, she tempts and tests the souls of finite beings with a heart of malice. If you were raised Christian, she is probably comparable to your devil. She has a name but most Danaans fear to speak it." She points to the book itself, where the name is given as Domnu.

"Well, monsieur, as Sir Alec has no doubt already told you, the Emperor has already decreed that the Grand Duchy of Saxmere be recognised as an independent nation. He's already ordered that you be given your soapbox." Raoul replied. "That decision has already been made for the Government. As a consequence we will do everything in our power to give Saxmere's secessionist movement credibility, and everything in our power to give you and your allies the chance to undermine President Caine's regime. So unless you've anything further you wish to discuss, I propose we go out and speak to the press. I'll be a more enthusiastic soapbox for you out there in front of the press gallery than I will in here."

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

Luke followed along intently as Araceli spoke. What she said made sense. “Speaking of comparisons between religions, I have a question, Araceli. Since so many Confederation citizens are at least vaguely familiar with Christianity, even if they don’t embrace it, should we emphasize fundamental similarities or our difference? Should we start with what people are familiar with or should we make it clear that we are something completely different?”

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Sir Alec gave Ryan Edelmann a wry look. Edelmann ignored Sir Alec’s simmering amusement and kept his gaze locked on Raoul. He was right about the Foreign Minister being an old pol – he was certainly demonstrating his pragmatism. However, Edelmann couldn’t shake the feeling that just as Raoul was happy to play the enthusiastic supporter now, he would be just as happy to disavow their enterprise if the circumstances warranted it. Yet, he knew that he had no choice.

“Very well, Minister, please lead the way,” Edelmann said flatly.

Araceli pondered a moment. "Well, what do you think, Luke? It is your country, after all. You know the people best."

Raoul led Edelmann and Sir Alec out into the press gallery, where three podiums had been prepared in front of a number of Pantocratorian and Saxmerean flags. He took up a podium in the centre, and Sir Alec and Edelmann each took one on either side of him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Raoul began. "I present to you the ambassador of the Grand Duchy of Saxmere, Sir Alec Nugent, and Monsieur Ryan Edelmann, the chief of staff of the former President of the Confederated Sovereign States."

He took a deep breath in and began to speak as if he had real conviction in the matter.

"The security of the Excalbian Isles has always been of great concern to Pantocratoria, the Excalbian Isles being so close-by to our own archipelago, and Excalbia being such a firm friend and ally of the Empire." he began. "Pantocratorian troops are deployed in Upper Virginia as we speak, building a better, more secure future for that region. But the fact that they are there at all demonstrates a failing on our part, on the part of previous Pantocratorian governments, a failing to foresee the threat to regional security which was posed by General Altman's regime when it first came to power. Had that threat been recognised earlier, we may have avoided military confrontation, through diplomatic engagement."

There was Drapeur's favourite phrase again. Raoul would've looked bemused was he not wearing his best look of concern.

"It is therefore important to the future of the security of the whole Atlantic that we do not repeat the mistake of allowing General Altman to become a threat." he said. "The Imperial Government is very concerned about certain developments in the Confederation of Sovereign States, specifically, about the Order of the Invisible Hand and the role it is playing in the government of what was formerly a world-class democracy. Those who know me will know that I'm not a conspiracy theorist, I don't wear a tin-foil hat, I don't believe in aliens. The Order of the Invisible Hand is very real. The influence it has in the CSS is very real. This influence is slowly growing into a threat to all the democracies of the Atlantic, and so we must move to deal with it in the early stages in order to avoid a repeat of the Upper Virginian scenario."

Some of the journalists were looking extremely dubious about Raoul's story, but Raoul's look was like granite, so they suppressed the scoffs and listened.

"I'd like to invite Monsieur Edelmann to talk about the influence the Order of the Invisible Hand has over the CSS and its present government, and to talk about the threat that influence poses to democracy in that nation, and indeed, in the whole Atlantic region." he finished, indicating to Edelmann.

*bump*

((Presuming that Excalbia will announce what he just said :) EDIT: I realise now that it is a bit soon. Panto and me ran a little bit ahead of ourselves I guess. But, again, if Excalbia was not planning to announce it now this letter will shift to whenever it becomes know. Or something multiple universy like that. ))


To: Dr. Thibault Drapeur, Pantocratoria
From: Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, Knootoss

I write to you about Pantocratorian support for the secession of the state of Saxmere from the Confederation of Sovereign States, which is a matter of great importance to the peoples of the Atlantic.

The C.S.S. is a beacon of stability and democracy in the Atlantic region and, as such, is of key importance to the Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss as a regional partner in the field of economy and politics. We are bound by treaty to look after their best interests and have pledged to protect their independence. You will find that any Knootian government regardless of its political backing will defend the unity and strength of the entire Confederation by all means possible.

I will never allow myself to tell Pantocratorians how to establish their political systems and run their country, but your nation is intervening in the political life in the Confederacy and supporting separatism as a means to undermine a democratically elected government, thus endangering the national unity of the Confederacy for political gain.

Reinstating former Saxmere monarchs, which have been democratically ousted, should not be a cause to be promoted by Pantocratorian or Excalbian interests. Such promotions can only be seen as pan-Imperial efforts by the the Holy and Most August Empire to unify the continent under the banner of the Excalbian-Pantocratorian axis.

I must strongly warn your government against making an insolent bid for Pantocratorian hegemony in the Atlantic as this would be a great error from both a historical and a practical point of view. The Dutch Democratic Republic feels that it would have to respond to any attempts to alter the Atlantic balance of power by the Holy and Most August Empire or the Holy Empire of Excalbia. The thought of Holy Empires trampling over democratic governments by underhanded means of incitement is unbearable to my peoples democratic hearts.

There is another matter involving Pantocratorian-Knootian relations at the moment, namely the negotiations at Chantouillet. To maintain our own credibility we would feel ourselves compelled to cancel any negotiations taking place in Pantocratoria, should the Pantocratorian government continue on this path so directly opposed to Knootian interests and the general welfare.

Yours,

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan
Prime Minister of the Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss

To: The Right Honourable the Prime Minister Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, the Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss
From: The Right Honourable the Imperial Chancellor Dr Thibault Drapeur, Pantocratoria

Madame,

I am frankly surprised and offended by the colourful language you elected to use in your letter. You will, I hope, forgive me for replying in similar fashion.

Your efforts to blackmail the Imperial Government through attempting to link the issues of His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty's support for the Grand Duke of Saxmere and the negotiations between your own government and the Burungi government which took place at His Majesty's Chateau de Chantouillet merely serve to illustrate the hypocritical nature of your letter. How dare you, madame, presume to lecture anybody about democracy and respect for the independence of other nations, when you would undermine the negotiating efforts of your own coalition partners, who have sought to bring about a peaceful conclusion to your own military adventurism which has seen the Knootian occupation of a sovereign nation? I am well aware of the political situation within Knootoss, and I think enough of your people's "democratic hearts" to believe that they will see through your self-righteous hypocrisy, and indeed, your own insolence.

His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty has elected to support the claim of the Grand Duke of Saxmere. You will find that His Majesty's mind, once made-up, is quite inflexible. The issue of the Grand Duke of Saxmere is entirely unrelated to the negotiations undertaken by Monsieur van Mierlo of your government, and Madame Bi Bere of the Burungi government-in-exile. If you withdraw from those negotiations, all you will be doing is publicly demonstrating your own hypocrisy to the Knootian people, and indeed to the people of the world, after your recent highly-emotive plea for Monsieur Alkatiri to sign the agreement hammered out at Chantouillet.

Furthermore, I advise you that I will make this correspondence public so that the voters of Knotoss and all the world can see the real reason for your withdrawal, if indeed you do link these two unrelated issues and withdraw from the Chantouillet negotiations.

Sincerely,

Thibault Drapeur
Imperial Chancellor, Pantocratoria

Knootoss walks out of Chantouillet Negotiations (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8671249&postcount=32) (first part of the Knootian response)

Officers' Training School, Nova Ardea

In a darkened classroom, an officer addressed his students.

"OK, here's the situation," the instructor remarked as he flicked a switch. On the markerboard appeared a topographic map, with a Turkish flag and a Knootian flag showing arrows pointing toward a Syskeyian flag. A Pantocratorian flag was also on the map

"You're commanding an armored division on the plains of Anatolia." He pointed to the Syskeyian flag. "A Turkish [insurgent] division and a Knootian division attack your position. Given the condition of the terrain, you can only counterattack one division at a time. Who do you attack first?"

A hand raised up from the middle of the class. "The Knootian one!"

The officer raised an eyebrow.

"Well, look at it," he pointed to various points on the map. "If you attack the Turkish division, the Knootains can advance and roll up your flank. By contrast, the Pantocratorian legion will be able to cover for your flank if you take on the Knootians first."

"No, no, no," the officer muttered aloud, shaking his head. "You attack the Turkish one.

Business before pleasure."

OOC: Yes, it is relevant to the thread. Think of it as potential foreshadowing. :)

Also, the [insurgent] think is because WA claims to have Turkey, but Panto RPs as Turkey being an independant NPC country, so...

Letter returned after the announcement:
To: Prime Minister Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan, the Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss
From: Imperial Chancellor Dr Thibault Drapeur, Pantocratoria

Monsieur,

I take offence to your implied accusations, as they are but the confirmations of my worst fears. The issue of Confederate independence and a terrorist-free Tanah Burung are deeply linked: both are matters of Knootian national security and I refuse to trade one vital interest of our nation in order to gain another.

The Sociaal-Liberale Partij and the Realistische Conservatieve Partij Knootoss are completely united on the issue of Saxmere as well as the need for a strong peace in Tanah Burung; a peace that will mean the end of terrorism. I refer to earlier statements by Mr. Daatman from the SLP as evidence of our unity.

Not only have your statements tarnished your supposed independence as a mediator, they also belie that which you claim to have stood for namely diplomatic engagement. I sincerely hope that you will be able to work out these issues of statesmanship before your re-election.

Sincerely,

Prime Minister Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan
Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss

(ooc: sorry for the lengthy post, but I needed to get it all out...)

Ryan Edelmann had spent his career working behind the scenes, guiding politicians, coaching them in dealing with the press and the public. He had often spoken with the press, but usually on background, as an unnamed source.

So, Edelmann figured he could be excused for feeling a slight quickening of the pulse and the stickiness of sweat beads forming on his brow. Nevertheless, he was a professional and he smiled, as he turned to Minister Raoul. “Thank you, Minister Raoul.” He turned to the press and smiled briefly as he studied the sea of dubious faces.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the Order of the Invisible Hand is no urban legend and its influence on political balance in the North Atlantic is no conspiracy tale.” Any trace of a smile vanished from Edelmann’s face, replaced by steely look of determined earnestness. “A year ago, I was the Chief of Staff to President Ilmars Alderson of the Confederation of Sovereign States. The President was entering a re-election campaign that promised to be hard-fought, but where all the polls seemed to be in our favour. However, at our party’s nominating convention, an obscure businessman – Thomas Caine – came from nowhere to win the nomination over President Alderson. Who was this man? He was chiefly known as the protégé of John Hayes, a leading businessman and a man widely known to be sympathetic to the Order of the Invisible Hand. He had no political track record and no history of party activism. So, how did he win the nomination? The evidence – which members of the Saxmerean Embassy will make available to you at the conclusion of this conference – suggests that bribery, pressure tactics and the influence of the Order over its members all played a part.

“Now, I could be dismissed as a bitter politician, disappointed in his candidate’s defeat at the polls. But, the information I am sharing with you cannot be so easily dismissed.

“After gaining the Liberty Party’s nomination through corruption and winning the election – which I do not deny he won fairly – President Caine embarked on a policy of systematically dismantling the Confederation’s constitutional system.” Edelmann paused for a deep breath. “Unlike many countries, our constitution is based on an extreme form of federalism – each of the Confederation’s six states are considered sovereign in of themselves. The Confederation government is contracted by the states to provide defence, manage foreign affairs and trade, control the monetary system and perform a very limited set of duties.

“As such, we have always had a great deal of diversity between the states, with some states, such as Deandra and Saxmere, following social and economic policies your own governing coalition could heartily endorse, while others, such as my own native Southland, followed policies almost diametrically opposing policies. Under President Caine, however, the Congress – despite the fact that it is held in majority by a center-left coalition – has passed law after law mandating that extreme laissez faire policies – curtailing trade union activity, slashing unemployment and social benefits, privatizing education and such – on a nationwide policies. These laws have been passed without any respect to the constitution. And more amazingly, the courts have upheld these laws, despite their unconstitutionality.

“Why, you might ask, has a center-left legislature pushed through an right-wing economic agenda and why have courts formerly committed to the sovereignty of the states forced them on state’s whose people do not want them? The answer is corruption, bribery and the widening circle of the Order of the Invisible. Almost every member of President Caine’s cabinet can be linked to the Order. A number of judges – most especially those who have upheld the new laws – are members or have ties to members. Those few who don’t have demonstrable ties to businesses connected to the Order. And, much of the legislation has been pushed through by Speaker Joseph Sumners, a New Liberal member from Deandra. Why? His own election as speaker, with the a number of his supposed ideological opponents in President Caine’s party casting votes in his favor, might offer a clue.

“While corruption in politics is nothing new, this goes beyond corruption. It is the subversion of a nation’s political system.” Edelmann shrugged. “If the voters of the states of Jefferson or Alud or Trondgard wish to implement the Order’s policies, I, personally have no objection. However, the voters of Deandra, Saxmere and Southland – each in their own way – have consistently supported very different policies. Under our system, they should not be forced to give up their own desires, their own traditions, their own beliefs to follow any other state. However, this is just what Caine’s new policy is doing – forcing the people of these states to accept a system they do not want and did not chose.

“Now, Caine and the Order are not content with merely force their vision on the peoples of the Confederation. They insist that their vision be embraced without opposition. So far, the most vocal critics of the Order – on a nationwide basis – have been Confederation’s religious leaders. So, Caine has consistently implemented an anti-religious policy and has launched a campaign to smear all religion.

“This campaign reached its climax with the death of the Presiding Bishop of the Church of Excalbia. Now, I am not a member of any organized religion and I would certainly not join the Church of Excalbia. However, the facts speak for themselves. By every account Presiding Bishop Purins was a man of integrity, who lived what he preached and preached what he lived. There was never a hint nor an insinuation of wrongdoing. Then, he became an outspoken critic of the Order and traveled to the Confederation to show solidarity with our religious leaders. And the next day, he is found dead and becomes the subject of scurrilous rumours.

“What does this portend for the stability of the Excalbian Isles – and indeed the entire North Atlantic – when the Order’s government in the Confederation feels the right to plot and profit from the deaths of leading figures in neighboring countries. Yesterday, it was an Excalbian who was in their way. Who might it be tomorrow?

“And, there are signs that the Order is trying to expand its influence to Upper Virginia, where one tyrant has just been overthrown. This leaving us wondering just how far does the Order wish to extend its grasp?

Edelmann looked over the journalists trying to gage their reactions. He nodded towards Sir Alec. “Now, the people of Saxmere have stood up to say that they will not quietly and meekly surrender their sovereignty to Caine and the Order. They are organizing a new government – around the unifying figure of the exiled heir to the throne of Grand Duchy of Saxmere – as the first step towards asserting their independence. Sir Alec Nugent here is the Grand Duchy’s Ambassador to Pantocratoria. Sir Alec?”

“Thank you, Mr. Edelmann.” Sir Alec looked over the journalists, a distinguished, dignified figure among the coarser politicians. “As Mr. Edelmann has thoroughly outlined our complaint against the Order and the Caine Administration, I shall not belabour it. Instead, let me address two points. First, Baron James, the rightful Grand Duke of Saxmere, did not seek out a restoration of his throne. He has been a vocal opponent of Caine and the Order and has sought to gain redress of his people’s grievances. However, it was the people of Saxmere themselves, in the part of state government officials, religious leaders and trade union leaders, who have petitioned the Baron to assume his rightful throne. The Grand Duke’s government, once in place, will not abolish democracy; rather it will allow the people of Saxmere to fully exercise their democratic right to self-determination. Second, it is not our intent to engage in hostilities with the Confederation or its Knootian backer. Rather, we seek to avail ourselves of our right under the Confederation’s constitution to withdraw peacefully from the constitution. We wish peaceful relations with the Confederation, Knootoss and all nations. Now, Monsieur Minister, should we take a few questions?”

Araceli pondered a moment. "Well, what do you think, Luke? It is your country, after all. You know the people best."

Luke thought for a moment. "Well, with all the controversy over the Excalbian bishop and allegations of abuse in churches, it is probably best to keep us far away from any established religion. Of course, once people are interested and learning, drawing comparisons might be helpful. How's that sound?"

Araceli nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Over the next few weeks, they began to have services. Araceli helped Luke study his scriptures but insisted her do all the actual preaching. She played music at the services and continued to play at the club and hand out leaflets.

Jefferson, Sovereign State of New Virginia, Capital of the C.S.S.

“…Knootian news sources report that peace negotiations with Tanah Burung may continue in another…”

President Caine turned off the TV and set the remote down on his desk. “Any initial reactions, Rihards?”

Rihards Krauklis, the Chief of Staff, shrugged and thrusted his hands deeper into his pockets. “Nothing unexpected. Pantocratoria and Excalbia have endorsed Saxmerean independence. Syskeyia and a handful of other nations might follow suit. Knootoss has strongly condemned, as you saw.”

“Domestically?” The President turned and sat on the edge of his desk.

“Governor Peller in Saxmere hasn’t made a statement, but Lieutenant Governor Aldaris has declared open support for the Grand Duke. As have half a dozen labour unions. The churches are keeping quiet. For now.”

“The other states?”

“Governor Blake in Southland has given a tepid statement saying that Saxmerean independence might have merit. Governor Adeyole-Kunle in Deandra talked a lot, but said nothing. Governor Asare, here in Jefferson, has condemned the idea and called Aldaris a traitor.”

Caine nodded and suppressed a laugh. “Elizabeth has always been one of our most militant members.” Caine’s momentary smile faded. “What have our Knootian friends said? Unofficially.”

“Haven’t gotten hold of them yet, Mr. President.”

“I appreciate their support, but I want to be careful. Too strong a response might tend to sway people in favor of the secessionists. And, while I want to keep the Confederation together, I don’t want us to become a battlefield in a war between Knootoss and the Excalbian-Pantocratorian alliance. We need to talk with them before responses get too hardened.”

“Yes, sir.”

*bump*

Umbra Daily Sentinel

Independence?

Parliament Adopts Provisional Declaration of Independence

Lt. Gov. to New Rome to Meet Would-be Grand Duke

Borders Closed; Militia on Alert; Calls for Negotiations

(Umbra, Today) – Jubilant crowds of trade unionists, Catholic faithful and traditionalists converged on John I Plaza outside Parliament House to celebrate the parliament’s provisional declaration of independence. At 12:26 in the afternoon, a spokesman for the parliament appeared on the royal balcony to announce that parliament had approved the declaration by a vote of 138 to 19 with 3 abstentions. Moments later, the Confederation flag was lowered and the royal standard raised in its place. Across the city supporters of independence pulled down Confederation flags and burned them on the streets.

Governor Sean Peller, who had previously refused to take a position on independence, issued a statement saying, “The people have spoken and as their elected governor, I am obliged to follow their will.” The Saxmerean Confederation of Trade and Labour Unions hailed the vote saying, “Free at last, free at last. We are finally free of the strangle-hold of the Invisible Hand.” Church leaders, who have been vocal in their opposition to Confederation President Tom Caine and his alleged ties to the Order of the Invisible Hand refused to comment on the declaration. However, Archbishop Gregory Thrain did urge calm and appealed to all sides – the State Government, the Grand Dukes’ government-in-exile, the Confederation and Knootoss – to open negotiations and commit themselves to a peaceful resolution of this crisis.

The provisional declaration of independence calls for Saxmere to “exercise its Constitutional right to withdraw from the Confederation” and to re-establish the Grand Duchy of Saxmere as independent constitutional monarchy. The declaration is provisional – actual independence is contingent on the current State government coming to an agreement with James David Patrick Kennan, Baron Cambera, and his exile government on a new constitution and adoption of the constitution through a referendum. The declaration also calls for negotiations with the Confederation government to ensure a peaceful transition and for peaceful relations with the C.S.S., Excalbia, Knootoss and other nations.

Governor Peller has directed that the State Militia immediately establish effective control of the borders in cooperation with the State Police. State Police Commander Mike Mackeown has confirmed that all roads into Saxmere have been temporarily closed. Meanwhile, Lt. Governor Douglas Aldaris will lead a delegation to New Rome to meet Baron James and his government-in-exile to discuss a new constitution and a referendum.

OOC: Excalbia, TG

OOC; I intend to make another post with the advice to Mr. Caine once I have an answer to my telegrams from Excalbia.

-------------------------------------------
Speech by Jan Willem Daatman,
Social-Liberal Party candidate for Prime Minister,
Location: an SLP meeting in Utrecht
-------------------------------------------

“Tonight I want to talk about peace—and how to get peace. I have steadfastly backed preparedness throughout my political career. We have no use for namby-pamby pacifism like the greens want, but we should be willing to pay a just price for peace. In payment for peace, we must give up prejudice, hatred, fear and ignorance in the economic world. This means working earnestly, day after day, for a larger volume of world trade.

Individual Conservatives may hold enlightened views—but the RCPK as a whole is irrevocably committed to tariff and trade policies which can only mean depression, ruthless economic warfare and eventual war. And if the Conservatives were in power alone in the Dutch Democratic Republic today, intelligent people all over the world would fear that once more we would be headed straight for boom, bust and chaos.

In this connection, I want one thing clearly understood. I am neither anti-Excalbian nor pro-Excalbian—neither anti-Pantocratorian nor pro-Pantocratorian. We are reckoning with a force which cannot be handled successfully by a "Get tough with Pantocratoria" policy. "Getting tough" never bought anything real and lasting—whether for schoolyard bullies or businessmen or world powers. The tougher we get, the tougher the Pantocratorians will get.

We most earnestly want peace with Pantocratoria—but we want to be met half way. We want cooperation. And I believe that we can get cooperation once Pantocratoria understands that our primary objective is not saving the Order of the Invisible Hand, or any other group. We cannot allow national rivalries to force us into war. For her part, Pantocratoria can regain our respect by cooperating with us in a spirit of open-minded and flexible give-and-take instead of Machiavellian scheming and constant propaganda against the Knootian government. I believe Mr. Drapeur to be a reasonable man driven by unreasonable goals. Let him act like a statesman and let us do the same.

The real peace treaty we now need – aside from the deal with Tanah Burung - is one between the Dutch Democratic Republic and Pantocratoria. On our part, we should recognize that we have no business in the political affairs of the Western part of the Excalbian Isles, just as Pantocratoria has no business in the political affairs of the Knootian Federation and its allies. We may not like what Pantocratoria does in the Western part of the Excalbian isles. Her type of religion, economic policies, and suppression of basic liberties offends the great majority of the people of the Dutch Democratic Republic. But whether we like it or not the Pantocratorians will try to socialize and indoctrinate their sphere of influence just as we try to democratize and liberate our sphere of influence – to use that ugly Machiavellian word.

This applies also to the Confederation of Sovereign States. We are striving to keep the Confederation of Sovereign States democratic and free, while Pantocratoria strives to socialize Saxmere and impose a monarchy. We all must recognize that an equitable settlement, based on a unified Confederation, is absolutely essential to any lasting Excalbian settlement. The Dutch Democratic Republic must be certain that Pantocratorian C.S.S. policy will not become a tool of any design against Knootoss or its allies.

The Pantocratorians have no more business in stirring up native clergy and trade unions to political activity in the allies of Knootoss than we have in interfering in the politics of the Western part of the Atlantic or indeed Pantocratoria itself.

We are still arming to the hilt. Our excessive expenses for military purposes are the chief cause for our unbalanced budget. If taxes are to be lowered we must have the basis of a real peace with Pantocratoria—a peace that cannot be broken by extremist propagandists. We do not want our course determined for us by master minds operating out of Citadel Excalbia or New Rome.

Pantocratorian ideas of social-economic justice and fundamentalist religion are going to govern a large part of the isles. Our shared ideas of free enterprise democracy will remain dominant in much of the rest. The two ideas will endeavor to prove which can deliver the most satisfaction to the common man in their respective areas of political dominance. But by mutual agreement, this competition should be put on a friendly basis and the Pantocratorians should stop conniving against us in certain areas of the world just as we should stop scheming against them in other parts of the world. Let the results of the two systems speak for themselves.

Under friendly peaceful competition the Pantocratorian world and the Knootian world will gradually become more alike. The Pantocratorians will be forced to grant more and more of the personal freedoms; and we shall become more and more absorbed with the problems of social-economic justice.

Pantocratoria must be convinced that we are not planning another War of Insolence and we must be certain that Pantocratoria is not carrying on territorial expansion or domination in the Atlantic, with her agents in the region faithfully following every twist and turn of New Rome policymakers. But in this competition, we must insist on an open door for trade throughout the world. There will always be an ideological conflict—but that is no reason why diplomats cannot work out a basis for both systems to live safely in the world side by side.”

OCC: Excalbia answered.

A small office in the Confederate Secret Service Headquarters

Ernst Verburen, the Knootian AIVD liaison to the Caine was pacing around the room anxiously, speaking quickly like a waterfall while addressing Rihards Krauklis, the C.S.S. Chief of Staff. With them a small number of top agents.

“Their strategy is simple: set our people up against each other. Divide and rule, it is the strategy of these monarchic pseudo-dictators and it is working. By identifying the interests of Saxmere with the interests of Excalbia and Pantocratoria they gain influence.”

Another Knootian nodded. “This Grand Duke is nothing more then a lackey of these muffs, these old Royals. And they are the ones to bring Saxmere democracy? How terribly naïve of Aldaris!”

Ernst took over again as he leant with one hand on a chair standing in front of Krauklis, gesturing wildly with the other: “Pantocratoria has re-established its dominance in the Atlantic through its alliance with Excalbia, an alliance which has seen the mutual conquest of Upper Virginia and which – mark my words – will one day see the re-establishment of a Catholic monarch in Saxmere if nothing is done against it. They want the North Atlantic in its grasp and Saxmere is just a part of their plan.

“It wants the full Market share and will not tolerate competition”, the other affirmed.

“What then do you feel we should do?”, Rihards Krauklis asked tentatively.

“Prevent secession”, the AIVD liason said simply. “And take emergency measures. First of all you should immediately prevent Governor Aldaris from leaving the country to visit New Rome – send fighters to secure his transport plane if you have to. If they seal their borders then we should seal ours, after all.” A wry grin played on his face. “I would also like loyal Confederate forces to secure all the Federal military bases inside Saxmere and to prevent any Excalbian troops from crossing the Confederate border in their support. Do not engage militia forces or put on any unnecessary display of power. Just make sure they cannot take advantage of the situation.”

“The President has made it clear that he does not want a conflict with Excalbia”, the Chief of Staff replied.

“Please let me finish”, Ernst continued with typical Knootian bluntness. “That is not at all what we desire. What we are facing is not just Saxmerian discontent due to feelings of alienation in the local population, but Pantocratorian Imperial involvement. Let Caine be a statesmen. Let him take up the concerns Saxmere has about federalism. He can sacrifice parts of his reform agenda if needed. Let Saxmere opt out if they wish, start a study committee, meet with Aldaris himself. I do not care as long as Mr. Caine appears genuinly conciliatory towards any concerns of the common people there.

At the same time make it clear that the government in exile is an illegal and undemocratic puppet government. I’m sure the people will understand that.”

"And what do we do with them?", the Chief of Staff continued. "Or the parliament."

"To be honest, we are still trying to work that out. It all depends on how well these old Pantocratorian palaces burn."

Luke sat dejectedly in a corner of the recreation center that hosted their weekly services. On one hand, there was a lot to be grateful for – they were seeing more people come every week and seeing more of the same faces Yet, he felt that they weren’t making enough progress fast enough. With Saxmere declaring independence – frankly, it was the dumbest thing he’d heard yet – tensions were running ever higher. The Confederation needed a new hope and he was disappointed that more people hadn’t yet turned to Danaan church.

A man came over to Luke’s corner and sat down a few chairs away. “Excuse me,” he said sheepishly.

Luke recognized him as one of their ‘regulars.’ He tried to force a smile. “What can I do for you, sir?”

The respectable looking middle-aged man looked about. “I… I want to join your church. In fact,” the man looked down, “I was hoping you’d consider coming to Trondgard. I’m Trongardian and things up there are… real tense right now. A lot of people are really needing… hope. And I think you could do great things there…”

Luke rubbed his chin. He hadn’t thought of moving outside of Jefferson yet. However, the man’s request almost seemed to mirror his own feelings a little too closely to be coincidence.

“Just a minute,” Luke said. Then, motioning towards Araceli, he said, “Araceli, could you come here please?”

The Imperial Chancery, Citadel Excalbia

The formal cabinet meeting had ended, yet most of the Ministers of His Imperial Majesty’s Government lingered in their chairs. It was almost as if they were reluctant to return to their assigned duties.

“Why did we have such short notice that they were about to do this?” Sir Harrison Grasis, the Imperial Treasurer, leaned over and asked the Acting Justice Minister, who simply shrugged.

“Does this even have any legal standing?” Thalia DeSoto, the Minister of Agriculture asked the Director of Imperial Intelligence, who happened to be the former Justice Minister.

“I’m not sure, Thalia,” Lady Gwyneth Hapsgaard said reclining regally in her chair.

The relatively new Minister of Defence shook his head. “Let’s all stop beating around the bush,” Lord Yornis Halton said. Silence fell over the room and all eyes turned to Halton. “We are all scared,” he said flatly.

“I’m sure we are all worried about tensions escalating with Knootoss – and their allies,” the Rev. James Earl Luckett, Minister of Home Affairs, said gruffly, “but I certainly would not say I’m scared, Lord Halton.”

Halton shook his head. “No, I’m not saying were scared of the Knootians; they may be the biggest bunch of stubborn sinners this side of hell, Rev. Luckett, but they are a reasonable people. They are, at heart, businessmen. And war – at least war close to home and war that might involve tens of thousands of cruise missiles popping out at your main ports in the middle night – is bad for business. They won’t come out looking for a war.”

Halton studied his hands. He realized too late that he should not have said anything. But, he was still a navy man, not a politician, and had not yet learned to keep silent about real threats. And, he had already crossed the Rubicon; every eye was on him and every ear in the room was waiting to hear what he had to say. Silence would not do.

“We are all scared of the Emperor.”

Luckett and Sir Harrison nearly jumped out of their chairs. “Treason!” They seemed to shout in unison.

Albert Cummings, the Minister of State, let his head drop into his meaty hands with a loud thud. He felt suddenly nauseous. He had a reputation for speaking out of turn, but this, this was beyond the pale.

Lady Christina Freedman crossed her arms and leveled a steely gaze at Halton. “My Lord,” the Imperial Chancellor said gravely, “you ought to be sacked…”

“Sacked for telling the truth?” Lady Gwyneth’s comments drew the Chancellor withering gaze and she returned it with an equally inflexible resolve. “We all have seen the Emperor changing,” she said in a slow, steady cadence, “he has gone from the picture of a modern constitutional monarch – casual, approachable, fatherly – to a clone of Andreus of Pantocratoria.”

“He is hardly Andreus I,” Cummings said, almost under his breath.

“Isn’t he, Albert?” Lady Gwyneth asked rhetorically. “When was the last time he appeared before any of us in anything other than a formal naval uniform? When the last time he appeared in public to do anything other than blast Knootoss, the Confederation and this Invisible Hand or commission a new warship? Have any of you seen him without a phalanx of Imperial Guards around him? Even in the palace? When was the last time anyone discussed anything with him other than the undeclared war in Upper Virginia, the crisis in the C.S.S. or arms build-ups? Did he consult any of us about pushing this young James forward as the rightful Grand Duke of Saxmere? Did he even have the courtesy to ask Pantocratoria’s elected government to endorse the move? No, he appealed directly to his fellow Emperor, Andreus.”

Silence had become an oppressive weight in the cabinet room. Lady Gwyneth turned to Lord Halton. “Tell them, Lord Yornis, about our last meeting in the map room.’

“Well, it was a confidential…”

The Chancellor’s icy visage cracked. “When was this? Where was I?”

“You were attending to an important budget vote in the Senate, my Lady,” Halton said, “and the Emperor said he would fill you in later.”

“Out with it, then,” the Chancellor commanded.

Halton swallowed hard. “The Emperor ordered the redeployment of half the Home Fleet. And elements of the Expeditionary Fleet.”

“To where?”

“The bulk of the Home Fleet is interposing itself between the Excalbian Isles and Knootoss.” Halton hung his head and spoke slowly. “Parts of the Expeditionary Fleet are joining them.”

Lady Freedman looked stunned. She stood and walked over to the window overlooking the park between the Chancery and Sweyn Castle. The Emperor had never given orders to the military without her knowledge. And agreement.

She turned back to the cabinet. “From now on, I am to be informed of any Imperial orders. Before they are executed. Until the Emperor removes me, I am the head of His government and must be kept informed.”

The heads of the ministers nodded in ascent.

“If all of this is true,” a visibly shaken Heather Altman-Faris – the Minister of Education – spoke slowly and softly, “what does it mean? Could His Imperial Majesty be planning…” She found she could not even say it; the thought was too terrible.

“No,” Lady Gwyneth said. Having opened everyone’s eyes, she now felt the need to calm them down before they started jumping at shadows. “I think it means only that the Emperor is… taking all of this very personally. And that he is starting to obsess about it. It isn’t all that surprising, really; a man who identifies so closely with his people and feels so responsible for them might easily feel the need to become ever more involved in their defence when he perceives a threat to them…”

“So,” Rev. Luckett spoke without his previous bravado, “what do we do now?”

The Chancellor let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. “The good news is that Prince Joseph and Princess Anna have convinced His Imperial Majesty to move his court across the river to the Summer Palace on the Imperial Preserve Island for a few days. That should give His Imperial Majesty time to rest.”

“Are you sure he will go, now that Saxmere has declared independence?” Lord Halton looked skeptically at the Chancellor.

“Yes. As long as all the reports he receives are that things are going well.” The Chancellor looked around the table, holding each minister’s eyes for a few moments. “For the next five days, everything everywhere is going smoothly. Or at least that is how it will be reported to His Imperial Majesty. Understood?”

Seeing heads around the table nod, the Chancellor smiled. “Good. Then let’s get busy reporting good news to His Imperial Majesty.”

Citadel Post Dispatch

Saxmere Declares Independence

(Umbra, Today) Earlier today, the Saxmerean state parliament voted to declare independence from the Confederation of Sovereign States. The declaration was provisional, and will take effect once the state government concludes an agreement with James, Baron Cambera, who – as the self-proclaimed rightful Grand Duke of Saxmere – has established a government in exile in Pantocratoria.

Sources in the Ministry of State indicate that His Imperial Majesty’s Government will recognize Saxmere’s independence once the declaration comes into full effect. It is expected that Pantocratoria will also recognize the new nation. There are no reports as to whether or nations are prepared to recognize the Grand Duchy’s independence.

Continued on page 3…

A Return to Divine Right?

By the editors.

If the people of Saxmere wish to be free of the Confederation, then let them be free. If they wish to restore the Grand Duke to his throne, let them do so. However, this paper firmly believes such change must come peacefully. And only at the instigation of and with the full support of all segments of Saxmerean society.

These days, there are troubling rumours swirling around Sweyn Castle. Rumours that His Imperial Majesty is orchestrating the Grand Duke’s return to the throne in order to check the power of a Confederation now allied with Knootoss. Such a move, if true – and we still have doubts about the veracity of these rumours – would undermine democracy in Saxmere. And in Excalbia.

We are loyalists to the Sword and our editorial policies have demonstrated that. However, no matter how much affection we feel for His Imperial Majesty, we do not wish to see a return to the days of the Divine Right of Kings. Either in Saxmere or in Excalbia.

Araceli looked over from where she was putting away her guitar and smiled at Luke. "Of course, Reverence."

She walked over to the corner and stood by Luke's chair. Araceli was dressed casually, as she always was. Today she wore blue jeans, a short sleeved white blouse, and black boots with two inch heels. She offered her hand to the regular, smiled, and greeted him by name. She made a point of knowing all of the regulards by name. "So what's up?"

(OOC: Sorry for all the posts, but I keep forgetting to add stuff...)

Tarana, The Empire of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam Taurins, the Holy Empire's Ambassador the Danaan High Kingdom, waited patiently to meet with the Foreign Minister. The insructions he carried in his portfolio seemed to burn in his hands. He had done, he believed, a fairly competent job of brining the High Kingdom and the Holy Empire into fairly warm and positive relationship.

This meeting, however, might change that. He knew that the High Kingdom was also developing friendly ties with Knootoss. And his government's request that the Resurgent Dream recognize the independence of the Grand Duchy of Saxmere, could push them to chose between Knootoss and Excalbia. And, Sir Adam was not entirely sure he would like their choice.

So, he sighed, it would fall to him to repair the relationship. Not a task he we wanted to see become necessary.

Kerry Brown's intercomm beeped, the voice of an elderly lady coming through. "Sir Adam Taurins here to see you, sir."

Kerry, a quite bald man with an athletic figure and a face slowly but surely beginning to show the signs of aging, hit the button on the intercomm himself. "Send him in."

As Sir Adam was sent in, Kerry got out from behind his desk and extended his hand. "Sir Adam, it's good to see you again."

"And you, Minister," Sir Adam said, taking Brown's hand. "Thank you for receiving me on such short notice. Tell me, have you heard the latest developments from our part of the world?"

Karry sat back down behind his desk. "Of course. We've been keeping our eye on it. Please, have a seat?"

"Thank you," Sir Adam said as he took the offered seat.

"So, you have read about Saxmere declaring independence from the Confederation? Have you had a chance to form any opinion on their declaration? Or their plan to crown the heir of the last Grand Duke?"

((OOC: Will reply to mobilisation later. But for now this brief interlude from IRC. Agwene is TRD. The other one you can guess.
Best quotes thread post (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=8696058&postcount=751)

Kerry nodded. "I have heard about this. It is likely that the move will be opposed by Knootoss as well as the federal government and supported by Excalbia and Pantocratoria. It might possibly lead to civil war. The chance to crown the heir will likely lose them support in liberal circles and gain them support in monarchist ones. A logical choice given their expected allies."

Sir Adam nodded. “A succinct analysis, Minister. May I ask whether your government has considered what its position might be on recognizing Saxmerean independence?”

Kerry sat back in his chair and sighed lightly. "You might have noticed me avoiding that question."
...
Araceli remained by Luke and the old man, awaiting their answer.
...
Meanwhile, in an office elsewhere in the Resurgent Dream, a man named Théodore Cousin was considering Sovereign States for very different reasons. Now that the new government had declared more liberal trade policies, Cousin, the President of Cousin Books, one of the largest book publishers/ book store chains in the Resurgent Dream, was looking to get in on some newly profitable markets. Even as he sat reflecting, he had people looking up all the formalities necessary to open a Cousin Books Superstore somewhere in Jefferson.

Cambera News Leader

Lead Editorial:
Independence or Joining the Herd?

Much of the press in Saxmere has hailed today’s decision in parliament to issue a provisional declaration of independence. Independence holds many advantages for Saxmere. We are, despite two centuries of union, a distinct people – historically, culturally, religiously and economically. Saxmereans will never be mistaken for New Virginians. So, the opportunity to chart our own course, especially when so much of what is being decided in Jefferson seems to be going against our own parochial wishes, is truly tempting.

However, there are many disadvantages. If we leave the Confederation, not only do we leave behind its policies, we also leave behind its economic vitality and prosperity. We lose its increasingly meddlesome hand, but lose its markets – labour and capital – and the protection of its army and navy. Are we truly prepared for all the costs of independence?

Perhaps we are ready, but no one would know it from the debate in our parliament over independence. Every once in a great while – thankfully – an idea so captivates the public and the media that our political leaders, those we trust to be calm heads, follow the mob rather than lead it.

Historically, it was just such a rush to join the herd that led the Privy Council to depose the Grand Duke and declare war on Excalbia two centuries ago. Now, popular sentiment wishes to reverse that decision. This time, we hope that our leaders will take the time to weigh the implications of their actions before they join the mob. The declaration of independence is provisional, so there is still time. We implore our leaders to use it and give this more thought.

Sir Adam smiled wrly at the Minister's answer. "Yes," he said flatly, "I had noticed, Minister." Sir Adam leaned back, trying to convey a casual air that was directly opposite what he was feeling. "And I suppose, Minister, that you have already deduced the reason for my request for an urgent meeting. The Emperor means to recognize Saxmerean independence. And His Imperial Majesty wishes to know whether the High Kingdom would be willing to do likewise."

Kerry nodded. "Tonight, we'll have a meeting with both you and the Knootian ambassador. I'll be in touch with both of you to work out the details. We'll decide the matter there."

Sir Adam was not used to being surprised, but Minister Kerry's announced succeeded in catching the diplomat unawares. "I am sorry, Minister. Did you say you would be convoking both the Knootian Ambassador and myself for tonight's meeting? And that your government will make its decision in this... open forum?"

Adding to the Ambassador's unease was the fact that he could not even recall meeting the Knootian Ambassador before.

Kerry nodded. "That is exactly what I said, Sir Adam. There is entirely too much of a backroom politicking about the situation in Sovereign States and that's not how the Resurgent Dream does business." He rose. "Thank you for coming by. I'll see you tonight."

Sir Adam might have still been a little stunned, but he did realise when he was being dismissed. He stood and extended his hand to Kerry. "Minister, thank you for your time. And for your willingness to listen to our position. I look forward to seeing you again this evening."

The diplomat even managed a smile as he bowed slightly and left the Minister's office.

Kerry shook Sir Adam's hand firmly and politely got the door for him. "Of course. Thank you for coming by. It's always a pleasure." Walking back to his desk, he hit the intercomm once more. "Liz, I need you to contact the Excalbian and Knootian embassies. Work out a time tonight we can get both ambassadors over here."

The Pantocratorian news media was out in force at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator and in the streets of the Old Quarter of New Rome, for an event on a scale unseen in Pantocratoria since the arrival of the Excalbian Imperial Family for the wedding of Prince Joseph and Princess Anna. The streets of the Old Quarter were lined with Pantocratorian and Saxmerean flags, all the way up to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, awaiting the arrival of the Grand Duke of Saxmere's official aircraft (which was actually a private jet given to him by the Emperor, repainted in Saxmerean livery).

Standing at the end of the red carpet on the runway was Dr Thibault Drapeur, Demetrious Raoul, and Prince Basil. Drapeur looked exceedingly dubious about the whole situation.

"I can't believe we're going through with this." he murmured to Raoul as the plane set down.

"Monsieur is listening." Raoul cautioned back, indicating to the leader of the Opposition with his head.

The honour guard snapped to attention as the red carpet was run down the stairs from the plane.

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

The Summer Palace stood on an island less than two kilometers from Citadel Island – the centre of Imperial government. From the front portico of the palace, one had a clear view of Citadel Mount, the Citadel, Sweyn Castle and the Chancery. From the gardens, the gleaming towers of the Left Bank and its gaudy National Stadium were visible. Yet, in atmosphere and tradition, the Imperial Preserve was a million kilometers away.

Fitting the tradition of a more casual atmosphere, Emperor David IV sat on the great balcony overlooking the formal gardens in jeans and a blue polo shirt. Despite the change in attire – Empress Elizabeth had forbidden the Imperial valets from packing any of His Imperial Majesty’s uniforms – the Emperor still looked melancholy and tired. Dark circles lined his eyes, which seemed to stare vacantly across the gardens.

At the sound of laughing boys, the Empress turned her attention from her husband and waved to Prince James as he ran across the gardens with several of his friends.

In the doorway of balcony, Prince Joseph waited for Anna to join him. He had high hopes that a change in scenery would improve his father’s mood. And while it had not happened yet, he still hoped it would.

The sound of footsteps caused Joseph to duck back inside the Palace, where he spotted Lord Corman, the Imperial Chamberlain. “Lord Corman,” the Prince said, “has there been any troublesome news? His Imperial Majesty seems very… dispirited.”

The Chamberlain, still clad in a formal suit, shook his head. “No, your Highness. At least none that His Imperial Majesty’s government wishes to report to His Imperial Majesty.”

Joseph raised his eyebrow at the comment. “Are they keeping things from him, Lord Johannes?”

Corman shrugged. “I am not sure, your Highness. I see a lot of reports and rumours in the on-line press – which Her Imperial Majesty has asked that I not pass to His Imperial Majesty. But there has been nothing from the government. Except banal reports of ‘steady progress on all fronts.’”

Joseph sighed. It was probably for the best, but her worried about how his father would react when he discovered that his own government was keeping him out of the loop.

OOC: Knootoss puts the VERITAS alliance on alert and mobilises navy in response to Excalbian deployment (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=413176) - another post tonight, I hope.

Anna emerged from the palace in her tennis outfit. She was looking a little depressed and wasn't carrying her racket - her doctor had seen her on her way out, and told her that she shouldn't do any strenuous exercise until after the child had been born. She had thought she might still be able to play, she wasn't really showing yet after all. She still looked very good in her white skirt. She had caught the last few sentences - nobody heard her approaching in her tennis shoes.

"What are you not passing on to the Emperor?" she asked Corman, in a disapproving, almost accusatory tone. She continued past him and embraced Joseph, kissing him affectionately, before turning back to Corman and looking at him. From her cool expression it was clear that she expected an answer.

Araceli looked over from where she was putting away her guitar and smiled at Luke. "Of course, Reverence."

She walked over to the corner and stood by Luke's chair. Araceli was dressed casually, as she always was. Today she wore blue jeans, a short sleeved white blouse, and black boots with two inch heels. She offered her hand to the regular, smiled, and greeted him by name. She made a point of knowing all of the regulards by name. "So what's up?"

Luke still was not used to title and blushed slightly when Araceli used it.

After Araceli was seated, Luke looked at her and smiled. "Thomas has said he would like to join us." Luke paused to let Araceli enjoy that good news, then continued. "And he has asked us to consider a mission to Trondgard; he believes that people there are ready to hear our message of love, peace and serenity and he has offered, I think, to help us arrange the mission." He looked at the man, who nodded eagerly. "So, Araceli, how do feel about making a trip?"

Confederate Secret Service Headquarters, Jefferson, Captial of the C.S.S.

Krauklis smiled and nodded. The Knootian’s advice was a like a spray of cool water on a hot day; Krauklis visibly relaxed and let out a breath he had holding for far too long. “You’re right, Ernst,“ he said to Verburen, the AIVD’s top adviser to the Confederation. “We’ve already closed our borders with both Upper Virginia and Excalbia. Since Saxmere has shares no border with Excalbia, it shouldn’t be too difficult to prevent overland assistance, unless the Excalbians invade in force.”

The Chief of Staff leaned back and rested his right ankle on his left knee. “Closing our airspace would be... unprecedented, but it is doable. Frankly, the problem is the sea. Saxmere lies along the coast and our navy is little more than a coast guard; a search-and-rescue and smuggling interdiction force; it’s no match for the Excalbian navy. If they chose to come into ‘Saxmerean waters’ there is little we can do about it. Except shout.”

Krauklis drummed his fingers on the desk. “As for managing public opinion, I like your idea of Caine playing the statesman and reaching out to the people.” A lop-sided smile crawled across Krauklis’ face. “What if the President invites Governor Peller and a committee of citizens for talks in Jefferson? Of, if can properly guarantee his security, he goes to Saxmere? What an impression that would make! The President going into the midst of secessionists. It would reinforce his image as powerful, active and in control. It would also reinforce the idea that he wants to hear the secessionists and listen to their complaints. What do you think?”

Araceli smiled. "Welcome home, Thomas."

She nodded to the question about Trondgard. "I'm perfectly willing to go to Trondgard and help set things up. Will you and Amanda be staying here to keep things running? We can't all go running off every time we have a new mission to establish."

Luke nodded. "I think that would be best, Araceli. Amanda and I will keep services going here, while you go with Thomas to Trondgard." Luke chewed his lip for a moment. "Perhaps, a couple of the other regulars should go with you, to help out."

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Joseph kissed Anna warmly, then slipped his arm around her shoulder. He looked sympathetically at Lord Corman and smiled faintly.

Lord Corman raised a single eyebrow and bowed deeply to Princess Anna. “Your Highness,” he said deferentially, “no one, the least of all myself, would keep His Imperial Majesty in the dark about anything of substance. However, Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress, is concerned that the Emperor is obsessing on every rumour and scurrilous Internet report. So, she has asked not to allow any unsubstantiated rumours or rantings to disturb His Imperial Majesty’s well-deserved rest. Naturally, if any real events occur, His Imperial Majesty would be informed immediately.”

Joseph leaned towards Anna. “Father might not be pleased if he found out, but in this case, I believe Mother is right. Father needs a rest. And some good news. And some time with his family. Shall we?”

Aboard INV Majestic in International Waters off the C.S.S.

Admiral Stephen Virities looked out from the railing just outside the Flag Bridge. The seas were gray and choppy, matching the pale, blotted sky. In the distance, the Admiral could make out one of carrier’s escorting Joshua-class cruisers. The rest of the fleet was invisible to the naked eye. He offered a quick prayer that they would be as invisible to any hostile forces.

Virities turned and walked back into the cramped, but well-appointed confines of the Flag Bridge. The room was dominated by a large table that was actually a flat panel display. It showed the outline of the Confederation’s coast in black. A second line, in bright red, traced the limits of the Confederation’s territorial waters. Blue icons indicated the positions of the fleet’s five carrier battle groups and its six cruiser-based strike groups. The Confederation’s small coastal navy was marked with yellow icons, as were Knootian ships in the area. An inset map, showing the entire Northeastern Atlantic also displayed a large number of white icons indicating the ships of other nations entering the theatre.

Virities looked over at the assembled battle group commanders. “What do you make of the third parties?”

“That formation,” VADM Tucker Norland said pointing towards a group of ships nearly 1500 kilometers away off the coast of Knootoss, “is from the Danaan High Kingdom, according to Intel. The High Kingdom, like Knootoss, is a member of VERITAS. So, I assume this means Knootoss has gone to its allies crying invasion and that they are moving to defend the DDR from such an invasion.”

Virities nodded. “You’re familiar with the Resurgent Dream, Tucker. What do you think of them? Will they join Knootoss if the DDR decides to run the blockade?”

“The peoples of the Resurgent Dream are quite honourable. They will fulfill their obligations to Knootoss to the fullest extent. However, I am certain they will have no part in any aggression; they regard as friends and have no desire for conflict.”

“Alright. So, what about the others? Will they sit on the sidelines waiting to defend the DDR or will they join the Knootians, if they decide to challenge us on the high seas?”

The admirals looked at each other, but no one had an answer.

Virities smiled grimly. “Very well, then,” he said at last. “We will go ahead with our orders – no military traffic in or out of the Confederation; no interference with civilian third party vessels and give third party warships a wide berth.” Virities looked at his fellow admirals, who nodded as they listened. “The fleet will go to general quarters; full ECM and stealth-mode for all ships. Disperse the Wraith squadrons to create a wide perimeter around the fleet.” Virities paused and continued speaking through clenched jaws. “And not a single ship is approach any closer than within 800 kilometers of Dutch territorial waters.”

Walking back to his desk, he hit the intercomm once more. "Liz, I need you to contact the Excalbian and Knootian embassies. Work out a time tonight we can get both ambassadors over here."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tarana, The Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Am aloof gentleman with round blue eyes strolled casually into the Danaan Foreign Ministry that evening. With his thick, straight, yellow hair and his tall, broad-shouldered build he gave the impression of a healthy Knootian. Under his arm he carried a small computer – one of the newest kinds with holographic technology and voice activation.

When the minister was ready, the Knootian entered and bowed in the local manner. “Good evening, Your Excellency. As you may recall, my name is Cornelissen and I am Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary and I speak for the Lady Galadriël.”

OOC: Hope you do not mind me moving things on a bit.


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Confederate Secret Service Headquarters, Jefferson, Captial of the C.S.S.
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The Knootian nodded in agreement towards Krauklis. “That would be excellent. It would please us much if you were to proceed as such.”

One of the aids approached the AIVD liason, putting a Padd in his hands. As he scrolled through it a smile began to form on his lips. “Also… I were you I would not worry about the lack of a Navy for now. By nightfall the Atlantic will be crawling with VERITAS vessels. Whatever Excalbia is planning – this might be a deterrence that buys us time to calm things down. ”

A young sailor’s letter to his girlfriend:


KDF Havelaar - Private message.

Hi Sarah,

I have been intending to write and tell you all about my time on board, but cannot send this letter as I write it because the enemy may be listening and I cannot disclose any potentially sensitive information. I hope this letter will arrive, though, when communications are allowed again as this is all a rather terrible but a wonderful experience, and I wouldn't miss it for anything, but it is not a thing one wants to make a habit of! Apart from one or two scares, nothing out of the ordinary has occurred yet on this side of the Atlantic but we have not yet arrived at our destination of course!

I must say that my first actual deployment is very different from what I expected. I expected to be excited but it is different. It's hard to express what I feel like, but you know the sort of feeling one has when one has to take a penalty during a footie match and rather a lot depends upon you doing well and you're just about to take the shot? Well, it's very much the same as that-do you know what I mean? A sort of tense feeling waiting for the unknown to happen, and not quite knowing what to expect; one does not feel the slightest bit frightened, and the idea that there's a chance of you and your ship being attacked does not really enter one's head-there are too many other things to think about.

The Skipper here is quite a character - he never leaves the bridge it seems. He was either on the bridge or in the chart house for the whole time during my last shift, and I've never seen anybody so cool and unruffled. He just stands there, sucking his pipe as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. With men like serving the Marine we are sure to win any fight, I think.

My ship, as you might know, was first stationed in Tanah Burung at the start of Tempo Dulu. She is an old cruiser and due for the scrap-heap really. She was returned to Knootoss and mothballed momentarily but now she received orders that caused us to leave for an unknown destination. I do not know how many battlegroups left Den Helder and Hoek van Holland but this is big. Seeing six of the new Ondeugd-class battleships undock at the same time while waiting for the Eurofighter-carriers to sail out is truly breathtaking! That is probably all I am allowed to tell you though.

This Ondeugd-class battleship – the Jaloezie - which we are escorting is just about the latest thing in BBS and after this I’ve been told we will all be transferred, officers and ship's company, from the Havelaar here. Her gigantic guns are ranging over 300 kilometres I’ve heard, with this enormous tesla coil-like thing on top. I would love to see that in action one day. The sight of her pushing her nose through the grey seas westward with a full complement of "cannon-fodder" at her sides is truly a view to remember. I have not seen much of the submarines but I suppose that is normal. I do not have much time to linger on deck anyway to check out the view. In fact, my shift is starting in five minutes. I will write to you again soon.

Love,

Jeroen

((Reposted here by request))

Some time later, Third Fleet began heading out of port and towards Knootoss. The amphibious assault ships, amphibious transport dock ships, and dock landing ships normally assigned to Third Fleet were absent. As they were unnecessary for this mission, they were taking the opportunity to dock for some routine upkeep.

The fleet came to a stop about three miles southwest of Knootian territorial waters. Fleet Admiral Pruonna Goblinsfoe hailed the Knootian defense command. ""This is the Danaan Third Fleet. We are now in a position to render any necessary military aid to our Knootian allies."

Meanwhile, Fifth Fleet, the entirely submersible fleet, began a patrol of the Atlantic, moving in a circular pattern between Knootoss and Sovereign States. They travelled below the reach of most eyes in the sky, usually requiring sonar from a nearby ship to detect their location.
...
Actually, when Cornellison arrived at the Foreign Ministry, he was escorted to a dining room, as was Sir Adam when he arrived. At the head of the table sat Prime Minister Lacau. To his right sat Foreign Minister Kerry Brown, Commerce Minister Celia Granados, and Defense Minister Fermenett Ley. To his left sat Culture Minister Plato Papandeou, Religion Minister Pankul Millstone, and Hearth Minister Miemaku Saaki. Ley was a Satyr. Millstone was a Nocker. And Saaki was a Fu Hsi. The others were human. Cornellison was seated next to Ley. Sir Adam was seated next to Saaki. Lacau smiled slightly. "I'm glad you both could make it. As you can likely tell, this is a matter the Danaan government takes very seriously. So that we're all open...Sir Adam...perhaps you can repeat to everyone the request you made earlier today."
...
Araceli looked to Thomas. "What do you think, Thomas? The High Priest and I did come to Jefferson City with just the two of us but there's no harm in taking more people."
...
Cousin, meanwhile, was waiting for the information he was having looked at. He was eager to get business started.

SatCom V - Somewhere Over the North Atlantic

It had no vision, yet it had proverbial eyes to watch everything. It had no mouth, yet it had the capability to communicate a situation completely, and effectively. It had no soul, and yet those who came into contact with its own defined abilities, could regard it just as intelligent as themselves. And orbiting higher than the Earth's atmosphere, the Sattelite dubbed, SatCom V reported all that was happening on at least one sixteenth of the planet surface. Today though, it watched and calculated the projectatory and speed of the enormous fleets crossing the Atlantic Ocean.

Having been advised by the foriegn department, the Austarian Intelligence Directorate had begun complete survellance of the areas around the fleets heading inbound, and had also begun watching the waters closest to the Democratic Dutch Republic of Knootoss, for any sign of wrongful intrusion. Add to that, in the skies had been dropped tiny, miniscule microbots, to act as the intelligence's own eyes and ears throughout the ships. Fortunatley, they had been designed so small they were invisible to the naked eye, and silent to every man's ear. With the automated ability to fly in random directions, just a few in the room could relay a man coughing up to SatCom V, which in turn could project the sound through a complex network of electronics, including audiological amplify systems, and voice distinctive technology, to literally recreate the words spoken and to broadcast them through the headphones of several intelligence operatives, back in the main operations centre.

Anything, and everything said and mentioned on board those ships could be listened to, translated effectively, and re-routed back to the homeland all within a process of two or three minutes. For the government and corporate demand factors had been so high that the development of technology in these fields would have been stressed beyond imagination. And this was a society of those who wanted the best of the best. 'To be the best, you must have the best, and to have the best, one must create it'. Yes, this was such a true statement and saying in the Absolutionist State of Austar Union.

In the meantime, on board the fleets which were already stationed in nearby, or relavant areas had been notified a simple message.

Be on standby for possible defensive procedures. Activate defensive nett systems, and be ready on the go. Further orders will be given.

Those with the ears to listen most certainly understood what this meant. It was probably an alarm, not of the lowest, yet not of the highest. Immediately, the eyes and ears of these fleets would be opened, and a good twenty percent of the Austarian fleets on standby manoever were ready. Of this, it could not even be estimated how many ships comprised the Austarian naval forces, for these were only the fleets subject to gravitational forces.

Excalbian forces would not recieve silence from these fleets though, it was the duty of these Admirals to acknowledge their right to understand the position of the Austar Union.

-------------------------------------------------
TO: Excalbian Forces, Off the Coast of the C.S.S.
FROM: Admiral Ford Doonavan, Austarian Fleet Positions Nearby
SUBJECT: Intentions of the Fleets at my Command...
-------------------------------------------------

Heil friends! I thought it best that I send you a quick message, just so no mistakes happen regarding our intentions in these waters, and any conflict which may arise between yourselves and Knootian forces.

First and foremost, please I ask of you do not consider us your enemy. Secondly, we are here for the defense of Knootian forces against direct attack. I can appreciate however, that you see the need to hold this blockaid preventing his forces through to the C.S.S. , and so any of his forces lost in combat would only come from his own thirst for battle against you. My forces will come in if however a contingent of your own forces break away to fight to Knootians, when they have not made any move against you. And of course, I will subvert any attempts against Knootian assets inside the C.S.S and the Dutch Republic's own homeland also.

I hope this at least clears some of the air between us, since frankly from what I have seen I have no interest here except through the bloody Dutch. Still, I am here to help then if anything of concern happens.

Yours In Excellence,

Admiral Ford Doonavan

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam Taurins entered the dining room and somewhat surprised to see the Prime Minister and a large part of the government seated around the table. Nevertheless, he quickly regained his composure and smiled pleasantly. He bowed deeply to the Prime Minister and the other ministers around the table. “Your excellencies,” he said in a pleasant, almost casual tone, “it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He stood and spotted the Knootian ambassador, whom he recognized from his intelligence briefing. He bowed towards the aloof looking gentleman. “Ambassador Cornellison,” Sir Adam said extending his hand, “I do not believe I have had the pleasure. I am Sir Adam Taurins, His Imperial Majesty’s ambassador to the Danaan High Kingdom.”

After the greetings, Sir Adam took the offered seat next to Hearth Minister Saaki. “Yes, your Excellency,” he said to the Prime Minister, “I would be happy to repeat our request.” He looked at the faces around him and briefly gave each a pleasant smile. “Earlier today, I met with Foreign Minister Brown and discussed with him the decision of the Sovereign State of Saxmere to secede from the Confederation of Sovereign States and to resume its independence. His Imperial Majesty, David IV, along with His Imperial Majesty’s Government, having evaluated its reasons for secession and taking the advice of our legal experts in the Ministry of State that such an secession is permissible under the Confederation’s own constitution, have decided to recognize Saxmerean independence as soon as it comes into force. We therefore, respectfully, requested to know whether the Danaan High Kingdom would also consider recognizing Saxmere’s independence.”

-------------------------------------------------
[size=1]TO: Excalbian Forces, Off the Coast of the C.S.S.
FROM: Admiral Ford Doonavan, Austarian Fleet Positions Nearby
SUBJECT: Intentions of the Fleets at my Command...
-------------------------------------------------

Heil friends! I thought it best that I send you a quick message, just so no mistakes happen regarding our intentions in these waters, and any conflict which may arise between yourselves and Knootian forces.

First and foremost, please I ask of you do not consider us your enemy. Secondly, we are here for the defense of Knootian forces against direct attack. I can appreciate however, that you see the need to hold this blockaid preventing his forces through to the C.S.S. , and so any of his forces lost in combat would only come from his own thirst for battle against you. My forces will come in if however a contingent of your own forces break away to fight to Knootians, when they have not made any move against you. And of course, I will subvert any attempts against Knootian assets inside the C.S.S and the Dutch Republic's own homeland also.

I hope this at least clears some of the air between us, since frankly from what I have seen I have no interest here except through the bloody Dutch. Still, I am here to help then if anything of concern happens.

Yours In Excellence,

Admiral Ford Doonavan

From: Admiral Stephen Virities, Commander, Imperial Home Fleet
To: Admiral Ford Doonavan, Commander, Austarian Fleet

Subject: Intentions

My complements to you and your fine fleet.

Thank you for the clarification of your intentions. Rest assured that His Imperial Majesty’s Navy does not consider your fleet hostile. Your ships will be accord every possible measure of protection and deference as neutral non-combatants.

Our intentions are to blockade the Confederation of Sovereign States. We will not allow any military vessels to enter or leave the waters within 100 kilometers of the Excalbian Isles, including the Confederation. Civilian traffic will not be affected, unless a specific ship is believed to be carrying arms of military forces.

Our ships will not, repeat will not, fire unless fired upon. If there is a conflict, it will at the instigation of the Dutch Democratic Republic. I trust that, based on you communiqué, your forces will not intervene if we are forced to return fire on the Knootians in self-defence.

Respectfully,
Virities,
Commanding

-----------------------------------------------------------
TO: Admiral Stephen Virities, Commander, Imperial Home Fleet
FROM: Admiral Ford Doonavan, Austarian Fleet Positions Nearby
SUBJECT: Re:
-----------------------------------------------------------

Thankyou for your recognition in these matters, and for the further clarification of your own intentions. Please be advised that I have forwarded these intentions, along with a copy of your message to our diplomatic representation to VERITAS, who is presenting it to the multinational council as I speak. Unfortunately though, I cannot help you in the way of what to expect from the alliance, since I am bound by treaty and it would be irresponsible for me to do so.

Yours In Excellence,

Admiral Ford Doonavan

Brown's face remained perfectly calm, as did Lacau's. Of course, both men already knew what Sir Adam had to say before he said it. Granados frowned deeply at this news, casting a concerned glance to the Knootian ambassador, though she said nothing. It was Ley who almost jumped out of her seat. "Sovereign States is a free, sovereign nation with respect for the rights and dignity of the sentient person. Progressive nations tend to centralize." She actually was standing now, inflamed with her political passions and speaking rather loudly, abruptly, and excitably. "How would we have felt if after Her Majesty's recent edict some nation had seen fit to recognize Wintermore as independent, or Garmar, or even Farinor?" Sighing slightly, she sat down, looking at Sir Adam in a rather irritable manner.

Papandeau shook his head at Ley's speech, though he did not answer it. Saaki's face seemed absolutely calm and serene. Her expression wasn't indifferent so much as perfectly at peace. Millstone shook his head. "Caine administration's fucking trying to wipe out religion, Fermie. You know that well as I do."

Lacau held up a hand. "Peace. Peace. I was hoping we could all come here to talk." He turned to Cornellison. "I was hoping you might give us the Knootian view of the matter. I didn't want to decide the matter without hearing from the representative of a valued ally who has some interests in the area."

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Joseph kissed Anna warmly, then slipped his arm around her shoulder. He looked sympathetically at Lord Corman and smiled faintly.

Lord Corman raised a single eyebrow and bowed deeply to Princess Anna. “Your Highness,” he said deferentially, “no one, the least of all myself, would keep His Imperial Majesty in the dark about anything of substance. However, Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress, is concerned that the Emperor is obsessing on every rumour and scurrilous Internet report. So, she has asked not to allow any unsubstantiated rumours or rantings to disturb His Imperial Majesty’s well-deserved rest. Naturally, if any real events occur, His Imperial Majesty would be informed immediately.”

Joseph leaned towards Anna. “Father might not be pleased if he found out, but in this case, I believe Mother is right. Father needs a rest. And some good news. And some time with his family. Shall we?”

Anna didn't approve of holding information from the Emperor, whatever his wife might think, but Joseph had added his personal opinion on the matter, so she wasn't going to press things further. She put her arm around Joseph's waist and rested her head on his shoulder, and non-verbally assented to going with Joseph to spend some time with the Emperor.

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Ulrica von Festeburg, the Ambassador to the Danaan Kingdom, sat in a near meditative state in her garden, which was in the flush of spring. She was a woman with a striking appearance, not beautiful but with captivating eyes, an expressive mouth, and beneath her sweeping gown a supple and healthy body though she was in her mid forties. Nearby a fountain quietly bubbled into a pool where colorful fish swam, and her household leopard lay in the shade of a tree, rumbling now and then in its chest.

There was a sense of moment, of panic in the air, and she was determined not to succumb to it. The embassy was relatively new, as was the other in Excalbia, in fact the other had not yet even arrived properly. She simply sat on a stone bench, letting the serenity of the garden overcome her. Lavenrunz had made too many mistakes in the recent past by letting the hastiness of the world sweep the nation into panic. The wisest decisions were always made in a calm and thoughtful mood.

Nevertheless, she had sent her charge d'affaires to the Court to find out what was going on. And that was what young Herr Albrecht Durer was doing, though he found himself in an antechamber with someone telling him that nearly everyone who could possibly inform him as to what was going on was in a cabinet meeting.

Interesting

The man in the antechamber with Durer was one Tralamin Harpsorcerer, one of the very few Tel'Quessir Elves living in the Resurgent Dream and one of the Prime Minister's aids. Harpsorcerer was actually fairly well informed about the general situation. He told Durer everything Lavenrunz already knew through VERITAS, though he added the sending out of the Fifth Fleet which had not actually been announced in the meeting. He told Durer that the Resurgent Dream was an ally of both Excalbia and Knootoss. He informed him that Danaan missionaries were operating in Sovereign States where the Cain government promoted radical secularism. He also told him that the Knootians had been provoking tensions by making anti-religious statements, specifically statements hostile to the Catholic faith practiced in Pantocratoria.

After he'd informed Durer of everything that had been going on, Harpsorcerer frowned slightly. "Right now, about half of the cabinet is meeting with both the Knootian and Excalbian ambassadors at once. I'm really not allowed to release specific information on my own authority but I'll be sure to tell the minister you requested it."

Durer listened with fascination; he was delighted to have made such an excellent contact. One thing that was a source of wonder to him was the way that the people of Resurgent Dream seemed to be so...clear. So unmuddied in their motivations. He had been advised by the Ambassador, who had been a diplomat in Menelmacar, not to be deceived by the strange ways of the Fae, not to mistake this clarity for naivete. He asked carefully, "Doesn't this situation put you in a very difficult position? It seems as though mediation is not working, if you will forgive my bluntness."

Harpsorcerer nodded a little. "But it isn't an unprecedented situation, exactly. It's the same situation the Dominion often finds herself in with respect to Iraqstand and Reploid Reproductions and they seem to be alright. Still...yes...it is rather awkward. Her Majesty will keep a treaty we signed in good faith without hesitation or compromise, if it comes to that, but we really don't want this to turn into a shooting war and we hope that if it must it will not be one that requires us to actively fight the Excalbians. I can't imagine fighting them. We've had good relations since before we joined VERITAS and we even have an officer exchange program. There's a few Danaans in the Excalbian fleet right now."

The Pantocratorian news media was out in force at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator and in the streets of the Old Quarter of New Rome, for an event on a scale unseen in Pantocratoria since the arrival of the Excalbian Imperial Family for the wedding of Prince Joseph and Princess Anna. The streets of the Old Quarter were lined with Pantocratorian and Saxmerean flags, all the way up to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, awaiting the arrival of the Grand Duke of Saxmere's official aircraft (which was actually a private jet given to him by the Emperor, repainted in Saxmerean livery).

Standing at the end of the red carpet on the runway was Dr Thibault Drapeur, Demetrious Raoul, and Prince Basil. Drapeur looked exceedingly dubious about the whole situation.

"I can't believe we're going through with this." he murmured to Raoul as the plane set down.

"Monsieur is listening." Raoul cautioned back, indicating to the leader of the Opposition with his head.

The honour guard snapped to attention as the red carpet was run down the stairs from the plane.

The private jet – a gift of Emperor Andreus – touched down at the airport and taxied to a stop in front of the red carpet. The door of the red, white and gold plane opened and a young man in archaic-styled red uniform emerged smiling.

James, Baron Cambera looked tan and well rested. His expression was pleasant and his demeanor was calm as he approached Dr. Drapeur. “Votre Excellence,” James said in heavily accented French, “c'est un plaisir pour vous rencontrer. Merci pour tout que vous et Pantocratoria a fait pour mes gens. Votre position courageuse fera longtemps est rappelé par tout Saxmereans.”

James bowed deeply as he spoke, his calm exterior concealing his nerves about mangling the Chancellor native tongue.

Rising, James turned to Raoul and bowed. “Monsieur Minister, Sir Alec m'a dit de votre assistance gracieuse et votre position ferme sur l'indépendance de Saxmere.”

Finally, he turned to Prince Basil. “Monsieur le Prince, c'est véritablement un plaisir pour vous rencontrer.”

Having completed his greetings, the Baron let out a small sigh. “Would your Highness and your Excellencies mind if I switched to English? Thank you again for your support. I understand that events are moving quite rapidly at home, so I am sure we have much to discuss.

"Welcome to Pantocratoria, Your Royal Highness." replied Drapeur, nodding politely, ignoring the fact that he had been there before. "Indeed we have much to discuss with you, as does His Majesty. Please, after you, monsieur."

Drapeur indicated to the open door of a waiting open top Peacock Motors limousine. The official party embarked and then proceeded through the streets of New Rome, which were lined with cheering school children (who had been taken out on excursion to see the arrival of the Grand Duke by an order directly from the Minister for Education). Their enthusiasm was quite genuine, although whether it was for the time out of classes or for the Grand Duke was a subject up for debate. The limousine drove at a stately pace to give the Grand Duke plenty of time in the public eye. Unseen on the roof tops above, in the alley ways, and in the crowds were agents from the Imperial Domestic Intelligence Service, making sure of security.

As it entered the Old Quarter, the limousine drove past a revue of the Imperial Infantry Legion of New Rome, drawn up into perfect lines, wearing their sparkling white dress uniforms, snapped to attention. The troops simultaneously saluted the passing limousine and their bands played musical salutes.

Castletown Airbase 0623hrs.

The roar of the aircraft screamed through the sky as the airwings circled and landed at the two runways on the southern most airbase on the Island.

Type 22's and the Fighters had flown all the way from the Klatchian-based homeland, avoiding as many land masses that denied their passage as possible. Refuling as many aircraft as there was that had now arrived, was rather difficult, especially as it was in mid-air.

Douglas Railway Station, Manx territory, 0651hrs

'Good grief another one?' The signal man frowned at the reciever and then looked out of the large window at the yard.'They'd have to go into the yard, the branch to the pier can't cope with more than two tra-'
The signalman was cut off by the loud yelling from the receiver, he held it away from his head for a second, the yelled back.
'Well, bloody tough, your men will have to walk the 500 yards won't they?'

There was a growling from the end of the phone, then a sharp "fine" and the line went dead.
The signalman smiled and took a sip from his cup of coffee, he had to soon set it down as an impaitent toot of a diesel signaled that yet another of the grey trains was sweeping in to the old victorian era station.

Men in their kharki uniforms and funny shaped helmets were already wandering around the ornate bright red brick building and the canoped platforms. Two were sitting on a bench, one was writing, the other was chatting.
'So? do you know what is going on?' said one as he watched the grey train thunder into the station and belch forth another load of kharki-clad figures.
'Mmm' the other did not bother looking up and merely continued to write feverently.
'You listening?' the other tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
The pen skittered across the paper, sending a great blue line across the detailed peice of artwork of one of the support beams to the canopies.
'Oh for god's sake Longdon!' he looked up and scowled at his comrade, now grinning nervously.
'Just asking man, sorry about the drawing...'
The artistic soldier whacked his paper pad against the side of Longdon's head, causing a rather loud ding sound like a bell.
Longdon had just raised his fist to hit his "comrade" when the loud speakers around the station burst into life.
"Organize yourself into your companies and march to the port at Douglas. I repeat, organize your..." this continued to repeat itself, the troops organized themselves by company and marched in neat lines, eyes watching from the shops, doors and windows of the Douglas streets.

Carrier groups 12 and 14, en route to Manx, 0726hrs

The ships thundered through the waters. there was around 13 days left for their journey.
Admiral Glover looked at the PDA, then at the messenger, then the PDA again, he then sighed and nodded at the helmsman.
"Full speed, the MoD wants us there by the middle of next week." he muttered.

The old fashioned speed handle was cranked to full, the ship shook before settling down to a sort of normality, the Admiral merely nodded and settled back down into his chair.

OOC: sorry, that was me, I don't know why this had logged me in as Ondarri.

Baron James, the would-be Grand Duke of Saxmere, sat back comfortably and enjoyed the ride through the Old Quarter. He was wise enough to realize that he meant nothing to the young people who lined the streets – they were probably sent their by the school teachers, but he still waved and smiled to the crowds.

“An impressive display, your Excellency,” he said to Drapeur.

The Baron allowed his expression to momentarily turn serious. “I am quite anxious to now the latest on events in and around Saxmere. Have you heard any news?”

Confederate Secret Service Headquarters, Jefferson, Capital of the C.S.S.

Krauklis let out an audible sigh of relief. “President Caine – all of us – will sleep better tonight knowing that those allied vessels are there, Ernst,” he said to Verburen. “Thank you,” he said with a hint of genuine gratitude.

Krauklis stood and prepared to leave. “I will brief President Caine and discuss the possibility of a trip to Saxmere.”

Confederation Broadcasting Network

CBN’s Breaking News logo faded into the emblem of the President of the Confederation.

Thomas Caine, a handsome, youthful man despite a full head of gray hair, looked earnestly into camera. “My fellow citizens,” Caine said in a grave, yet warm voice, “today has been a day of tumult and confusion unparalleled in the history of our confederation.

“Earlier today, the State Parliament of Saxmere voted to provisionally declare independence from the Confederation. This unfortunate act has been orchestrated by those special interests that feel most threatened by our reforms – those whose power lies in their control over the masses and whose control relies on fear, tradition and deceit.

“These forces, acting behind the scenes, have convinced the people of Saxmere that our government means to abolish the sovereignty of the Various states, deprive them of their constitutional right to diversity and force our owns dreams upon them.

“Let me assure you, and the people of Saxmere, that nothing could be further from the truth. I am a true patriot of the Confederation. And a true believer in self-determination, individual liberty and personal freedom. I would never want to impose my will on an unwilling public – whether that of the Confederation as a whole or one of its constituent states.

“I do believe in the free market and rationalist reforms I have instituted. And I believe that they are in the best interests of all of our states. However, we will not force any state to carry those reforms beyond in violation of their sovereign rights.

“Now, I must admit that in my enthusiasm for our reform agenda, I may not have listened to those who questioned reform or who wanted to take a different road. In doing so, I may have contributed to the unease and uncertainty in Saxmere.

“Let me now speak directly to the people of Saxmere. I have heard you today. I now understand the depth of your concerns and I want to listen to you. Do not let foreign adventures and imperialists stampede you into a rash act. Do not let those who wish to impose their own authoritarian systems in the Excalbian Isles and the Northern Atlantic tear this Confederation apart.

“We may be facing a moment of crisis. We may disagree about many things. Yet, we are all bound by loyalty to the same constitution, the same principles of freedom and liberty. Let us come together and solve our differences without interference from those who mean us harm. To this end, if the people of Saxmere will receive me, I am prepared to travel to Saxmere to meet with you.

“And to those outside adventurers – the Empires of Excalbia and Pantocratoria – I can only say: Leave us alone. Let us settle our own problems in peace. We want only peace, but if you determine to interfere in our internal affairs, let me assure you – and the people of the Confederation – that we will stand up to your interference and we will not stand alone.”

Araceli looked to Thomas. "What do you think, Thomas? The High Priest and I did come to Jefferson City with just the two of us but there's no harm in taking more people."

Thomas thought for a moment. This was all so new to him. "I suppose," Thomas said slowly, "that it would be good to have extra help." He looked over to Luke. "How soon should be go, Reverence?"

Luke nodded. "As soon as possible. Tomorrow perhaps?"

((OOC: About how old is Thomas? How many church regulars are there now? Who would Araceli know to call for the mission? What does Cousin find out?))

Araceli nodded. "Alright. I can be ready to leave tomorrow. Is there housing there?" Araceli started to go over the membership in her head, pondering who would be best for this mission.

The Imperial Foreign Ministry, Hofburg, Lavenrunz

Siegfried Schertz, the head of the North Atlantic Desk, stretched his still athletic frame and felt a sense of momentary bliss. Nearby, a silent lovely red haired girl was pulling on her stockings, otherwise naked. The office blinds were down, and supposedly he was in a meeting with an important lobby representative...which in a sense he was. He had once been Lavenrunz' Olympic gold medallist for pentathlon, and had been the coach when Erica von Fischer took the medal a few years ago, then Minister of Sports and National Pastimes under the Ministry of Culture. But he was very bored now, getting worn out.
"I'm telling you," she said as she stepped into her underwear, "We cannot afford to ignore possible new markets. You can bet that that is what Knootoss is counting on. I know how the government feels about adventurism, but this wouldn't be that. It's simply preventing things getting out of hand and taking an economic interest in the region." she paused a moment and said, "And if you want to know, we'd far rather explore possibilities in a civilized country like Excalbia and the regions around it than some of the other possibilities being considered."
"You're very persuasive." said Schertz, admiring her as she arched her back to do the clasp of her brassiere. "And shall I see you for dinner?"
She smiled over her shoulder, making him catch his breath slightly. "Possibly, but I may have to meet with some representatives of the lobby, but I'm always available for good news."

Tarana, Resurgent Dream

Durer looked concerned and leaned back thoughtfully. "It would put us in a not too difficult position, really. The obvious thing would be to support whatever course our allies adopted. However...the feeling back in Hofburg is that conflict is to be avoided at this time. I wonder how your government would respond to overtures from the International Mediation Council?"

'I'm still wondering what the bloody hell we're doing, why just our two regiments? And send us to the docks?' Longdom’s comrade frowned as they marched.

'Look, I don’t know, for all I know we're being shipped ho-' Longdom was interrupted.

'Keep yer noise down!' yelled a sergeant. ‘Briefing on the dock, five minutes.’

The column had come to a stop on the outstretched pier, several troop transport vessels were docked, the civilian shipping having been sent elsewhere.

‘Attention!’ yelled the sergeant again; the sound of boots scraping together rattled around the dockland, an elderly gentleman with several medals pinned to his chest stepped up onto a make-shift podium.

‘Well, I can’t really tell you much, but you lot are off on an annexation cruise.’
The men groaned.
‘Don’t worry, your target has no military presence on it, bit like the Manx when we took her over ages ago, Isle of Wright on the English south coast.

‘Oh whoopdee bloody doo.’ Muttered Longdom’s comrade.

‘Right, so kit up and have fun, your job is important, once you secure the island you’d be able to help our navy ships coming in from the homeland.’ He simply coughed and wandered off somewhere else in the dockland.

‘How inspiring.’ Muttered Longdom.

Baron James, the would-be Grand Duke of Saxmere, sat back comfortably and enjoyed the ride through the Old Quarter. He was wise enough to realize that he meant nothing to the young people who lined the streets – they were probably sent their by the school teachers, but he still waved and smiled to the crowds.

“An impressive display, your Excellency,” he said to Drapeur.

The Baron allowed his expression to momentarily turn serious. “I am quite anxious to now the latest on events in and around Saxmere. Have you heard any news?”

"The Parliament has issued an act of secession and invited you back. I'd say your enterprise is doing very well, monsieur." Drapeur replied. "Naturally Caine's not taking it lying down, and has begun to campaign for a turn in public opinion. The Prime Minister of Knootoss is making all sorts of aggressive grunting, which I can assure you, is quite in character for her."

"She'll never go through with it." Raoul added. "Not if she's thinking straight anyway. Knootoss can't possibly project enough force into the Atlantic to counter Pantocratoria and Excalbia together. And I very much doubt anybody in VERITAS is willing to stick their necks out for a Knootian puppet government in a non-member country like the Confederation."

The car passed by the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator, nearing the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

Ministry of Defence, Midlonia, 0856hrs (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v160/Midlonia/MidlonianMinistries.jpg)

The drilling whinged through the building as the General and the Admiral marched down the hall way and into the board room.
'Minister.' they chimed in unison.

'I'm clearing some more groups to be sent to Europe, we do not want Knootian assets or trade to be interupted by any kind of war, and if one was to take place we need the forces necessary to ensure that trade is not threatened, the shipments of electronics and the cola are vital to keeping things sweet, I've authorized more elements of the 6th fleet, another two carrier groups to leave immediately, if nothing happens, well." the shadowed suited figure shrugged. "We'll have some sort of viable force in the area at long last, it's also in the government's intrest that we continue this expansion on the smaller islands, they suggested the shetland island chain after the Isle of Wright, perhaps Anglesey too...'

12th and 14th Carrier groups

'Estimates are around 10 days Admiral, and Captain Jenkins of the 24th carrier group sends,' he cocked an eyebrow at the message. 'love and kisses?'
Glover chortled and patted the aide on the shoulder 'Just a joke lad, just a joke.'

Harpsorcerer shrugged slightly. "I would really be overreaching my authority to answer a question like that."

He thought for a moment. "I'll be sure to call the Lavenrunzian embassy as soon as the meeting is over. The ambassador can speak to the Prime Minister if she wishes."

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Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream
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Brown's face remained perfectly calm, as did Lacau's. Of course, both men already knew what Sir Adam had to say before he said it. Granados frowned deeply at this news, casting a concerned glance to the Knootian ambassador, though she said nothing. It was Ley who almost jumped out of her seat. "Sovereign States is a free, sovereign nation with respect for the rights and dignity of the sentient person. Progressive nations tend to centralize." She actually was standing now, inflamed with her political passions and speaking rather loudly, abruptly, and excitably. "How would we have felt if after Her Majesty's recent edict some nation had seen fit to recognize Wintermore as independent, or Garmar, or even Farinor?" Sighing slightly, she sat down, looking at Sir Adam in a rather irritable manner.

Papandeau shook his head at Ley's speech, though he did not answer it. Saaki's face seemed absolutely calm and serene. Her expression wasn't indifferent so much as perfectly at peace. Millstone shook his head. "Caine administration's fucking trying to wipe out religion, Fermie. You know that well as I do."

Lacau held up a hand. "Peace. Peace. I was hoping we could all come here to talk." He turned to Cornellison. "I was hoping you might give us the Knootian view of the matter. I didn't want to decide the matter without hearing from the representative of a valued ally who has some interests in the area."

“I thank you for inviting me”, the gentleman said gratefully. “It is a wise decision of you to provide this public forum, for there has been far too much backstage dealing in this entire affair.” The Knootian nodded towards Lacau.

“In a nutshell, our own policy has been to localise the current conflict and promote a dialogue between the State of Saxmere and their Confederate government. This is, after all, a domestic problem for them and we would like it to be treated as such. On the other hand, we are guaranteeing the independence of the C.S.S. and will defend it if it is attacked.”

Cornelissen put his portable computer on the table and activated the holoviewer, which had been preset to display the Confederate constitution.

“First of all, the legal matters. As you can see, article one, section four of the Confederate constitution provides for the changing of national governments as the states see fit, but it explicitly fails to provide for states leaving individually. Saxmere has a constitutional right to abolish its own government and recreate it in any way they like, limited by article six, section four here… which states that the Confederacy shall guarantee a Republican form of government to every state. The C.S.S. as a whole can be reformed to provide for an eventual Saxmere secession or an adaptation of their status within the Confederacy, but this requires national referendums to be held as well as votes several state legislatures. In short: direct democracy and deliberation.

The provisional declaration issued by the national parliament is, therefore, very much a provisional statement and there can be no question of any legitimate authority of this ‘Grand Duke’ without deliberation and debate, and without hearing the voice of the peoples of the Confederation themselves." He leant forward, passionately. "The people need this debate, and we can safely say that Saxmere itself is divided on this issue and the possibilities."

Cornelissen glanced briefly at the Excalbian before adressing the ministers again. ""However it would appear that the governments of Excalbia and Pantocratoria wish to forego these established democratic procedures entirely by building extreme external pressures to create a faith accompli. This is the only way the DDR government can explain why the Excalbian ambassador” – Cornellisen paused explicitly to emphasise this – “is here to speak on behalf of a formerly Excalbian noble crowned in Pantoctatoria, Asking foreign governments like yours to hastily recognise this deposed noble as the government and blockading the C.S.S. with its mighty navy are means of building pressure and denying a cool-headed debate. The elected Governor of Saxmere did not even ask you to recognise the government himself and an Excalbian is here to plead for a free Saxmere!”

Cornelissen noticed he was getting too exited and paused to readjust his holoviewer, mostly to get a breather.

”I would like to ask you not to recognise any government of Saxmere before a decision about such a government is made, in the middle of all this commotion and amidst mobilisations. Have the people of Saxmere and the people of the Confederacy work out this problem for themselves. They are perfectly capable of making a decision about their own independence without half the Excalbian navy blockading them, and such extreme international pressures will only serve to agitate all sides and make a good decision impossible. If the people of Saxmere truly wish to secede, then so be it. We will accept it. But let them decide this themselves, without these international pressures from either side.”

OOC: Now now Knoot, there has been no crowning... yet.

IC:

The gates to the courtyard of the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator opened to the sound of trumpets and the crash of troops coming to attention simultaneously. The limousine entered the courtyard, and the gates closed behind them. It came to rest at the end of a red carpet leading into the main palace building's antechamber, flanked by the Varangian Guard.

Valets, wearing scarlet jackets with the initials "A I" embroidered in gold, came forward to open the limousine's doors for the Grand Duke and his escorts. The entourage made its way along the carpet, up the steps, and into the magnificent antechamber, adorned with a massive icon of Christ Pantocrator on the ceiling, and a massive, lavish oil painting, Le Martyre de Constantine XI adorning one of the walls. More Varangians snapped to attention as the entourage made its way through the antechamber, followed by the television cameras.

The huge grand doors to the great hall swept open, and the entourage could catch glimpses of the Emperor and his court waiting to great the exiled sovereign.

"His Royal Highness James, Grand Duke of Saxmere and Baron Cambera!" announced the herald. Trumpets blazed and a full orchestra came to life to greet James as he made his way into the great hall. Rose petals were released from hidden mechanical dispensaries in the ceiling, and gently drifted down all the way long the Grand Duke's path up to the Emperor's elevated throne, where the figure of Emperor Andreus sat in stark black clothing, generously adorned with glittering diamonds, wearing a crown of golden olive leaves on his head. He was flanked by his sons on both sides - the Despot of New Constantinople had been convinced to attend the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator just for the event. Next to the Despot stood Princess Zoë, and next to Prince Constantine stood Princess Theodora. The whole court, excepting the Emperor, bowed and curtsied to him all the way along his progress (although it had taken quite a bit effort to convince some courtiers, especially the Despot, to bow to James).

When the Grand Duke reached the foot of the elevated platform, the Emperor rose from his throne, stepped towards James, and placed his hands on each of the young nobleman's shoulders. He then kissed him on each cheek. It was a rare signal of fraternity, which the Emperor wouldn't normally have made, which clearly demonstrated his esteem and support for the Grand Duke and his cause.

"Bienvenue à Pantocratorie, Votre Altesse Royale." the Emperor said. The broadcast displayed subtitles in the appropriate languages - English in the Excalbian Isles, Greek in some areas of Pantocratoria, and Dutch in Knootoss.