NationStates Jolt Archive

Brown inclined his head. "That certainly seems like a sensible position. Neither Sovereign States nor Saxmere has ever made any diplomatic overture towards the Resurgent Dream. I believe there's no reason to extend recognition on the basis of a third party request. We value our relations with both Knootoss and Excalbia. We hardly want to alienate either over a nation with which we've had no contact."

Papandreou nodded reluctantly. "I...I cannot disagree with my colleague. However, I am somewhat concerned with the way the Knootian government has been speaking of this 'government-in-exile' publically as a potentially tyrannical government. If I understand correctly, the State Parliament of Sacmere invited the Grand Duke back to rule with their advice and consent. Unless, of course, you consider constitutional monarchy to be a tyrannical form of government?"

Granados paused a moment, thinking. "I would wish to know exactly what is so terrible about the Caine administration. He might be a radical secularist but I haven't heard about any moves to abolish freedom of religion, merely to increase the level of economic freedom enjoyed by the people of Sovereign States. I consider myself a devout woman and I find President Caine's personal beliefs and the Invisible Hand's attempts to convince people of atheim to be personally distasteful, but well within the rights of a philosophical advocacy group operating in a free country. I would remind the cabinet that separation of church and state, while not yet passed through our Parliament, is part of the Modernist Party platform which everyone in this government is pledged to uphold."

Millstone shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, maybe. Still, I want to know just where the Knootian government gets off making some very anti-religious official statements. The Catholic Church which is referred to publically as 'Pantocratorian fundamentalism' or 'oppressive Pantocratorian religion' is the same Catholic Church to which forty million Danaan citizens belong. It is the same Catholic Church which is the official religion in Lavenrunz, an ally of both ourselves and Knootoss. Danaan royalty has heard mass in Pantocratoria before. Those statements don't mention us by name but the implications aren't friendly to our people, government, crown, or culture. I wonder if there's any chance this crusade against religion might extend to the South Atlantic?"

Ley shook her head at Millstone, turning to Sir Adam. "Sir Adam, I'd like to know who exactly your blockade is supposed to be keeping out. Nothing you've said about the Caine administration indicates a dependence on Knootian force of arms. Do you seriously expect the Knootians to launch a naval invasion? It does seem you were the first to deploy armed force."

Court of Christ Pantocrator

Count Rosenburg, in formal black with gold braid and his decorations weighing the front of his tunic, looked grand and rather impassive during the arrival of the Grand Duke. "Well, now." he thought. "This is one for the history books. As a footnote or as a prelude to great events though?"
Beside him, Baron Wolfmar looked almost ascetic with all the glory of Pantocratoria around him, including the brilliantly dressed Guardsmen. Though his boots shone like mirrors, though his carriage was marvellous and he wore his dress sword like one born to it, his rather simple tunic of green with black frogging and his dark trousers were rather more like Pantocratorian barracks dress than formal. He could not help but flare his nostrils in irritation at the sound of french.

Tarana, Resurgent Dream

Durer smiled and rose, bowing, saying, "Thank you, Herr Harpsorceror, you are truly kind and generous. Now, perhaps I might return the favour somehow?"

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

Siegfried Schertz heard his PA just as his lovely companion was slipping her dress back on. "Herr Schertz, it is the Minister."
"My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" he groaned blasphemously, and hurriedly checked his appearance in the mirror as he put Aurora von Konigsmark on.
"Yes, Excellency." he said.
"Schertz, set up an appointment with Lady Allison Bulgar forthwith."
"Yes, Excellency."
"Thank you very much." she said, and clicked off.
"Serendipity." murmured the lobbyist, blowing him a kiss and stepping out the door.
"Better that than fate." he thought, as he picked up the phone to dial the Excalbian embassy. "Yes, good afternoon, this is Siegfried Schertz at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Could you please put me through to the Ambassador's office? Thank you..."

Harpsorcerer smiled. "Of course. Have a nice day, Herr Durer." He politely got the door of the antechamber for the other man.
...
Duke Bel ap Liam stood rigidly straight in the Court of Christ Pantocrator. His silken finery hung elegantly over his trim form as the sidhe nobleman watched the proceedings dutifully.

Sir Adam listened carefully to Cornelissen’s presentation and the cabinet’s discussion. When the Defence Minister posed her question, Sir Adam turned to her and nodded. “I would be happy to explain the reason for our blockade, Madam Minister. Our intent is solely to prevent the Dutch Democratic Republic from introducing its armed forces or military equipment into the Excalbian Isles, which could be used to halt secession by force.

“You rightly observe that we were the first to put to sea. We did so purely as a preventative measure. You might well ask why we would assume that the Confederation and its Knootian ally might resort to force.

“There were several factors that went into our decision. The first is that we – and the Saxmerean leadership with whom we are in contact – feared that the Confederation might resort to force to prevent secession. One of the reasons that Saxmere has chosen the secessionist path is that the Confederation government has consistently violated its own Constitution." Sir Adam reached into his pocket and removed two silver tubes. When opened, the tubes separated into two rods, which were pulled apart to reveal a flat, flexible screen. He passed one screen to his right and the other to his left. “We have documented several instances where the Confederation national government has imposed laws on the states regarding matters that constitutionally ought to be left to the states.

“Given a history of violating the constitution, Saxmere had no confidence that Caine would not do so again by violating Article VI, Section 4 of the constitution, which specifically prohibits the central government from undertaking military action in any state without that state's permission. After so many violations of the constitution, how could the Saxmereans trust that this article would not be violated as well?

“We and the Saxmereans also realized that, if the Confederation meant to use force, it would have to rely on Knootoss to provide it. The Confederation has, through out most of its 200-year history, maintained a tiny army and an insignificant navy. In fact, the bulk of its armed forces exist in the form of militias under the control of the state governments.

“However, there have been troubling signs that the Confederation has started to give new thought to its military posture. One reason the Confederation was able to survive without a large standing army was because of its mutual defence pact with the Holy Empire. When Caine was elected, the Confederation acted to void that agreement and, instead, signed a series of agreements with Knootoss. We believe that a least one defence pact was signed.

“Finally,” Sir Adam turned to Commerce Minister Granados, “and this should answer as well the Minister’s question about why we perceive President Caine as such a threat, you will see on the screens information that Imperial Intelligence has collected on the activities of the Order of the Invisible Hand in the Excalbian Isles. I regret that the intercepts are partial and garbled in places. Most were collected through technological means in the face of standard countermeasures.”

Each screen displayed the following:

Intercept 0400050601910
Recorded: Private Club in Ergli, Alud, C.S.S.

John Hayes (associate of Pres. Caine): A new day is dawning in the Confederation. The SP (Sovereignty Party) 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 …. (garbled) …. unionists and liberals there …. (garbled) … road to creating a welfare state. Southland? Saxmere? Left to their own …. (garbled) … theocracies. No, my old friend, the only way to implement good policies now is to ...

Cong. Ozolins: You certainly don’t expect us to do a 180 in our official policies, do you?

Hayes: (garbled)… hope that you will support good policies when we put them forth. And… (garbled)… you and any of your SP colleagues willing … (garbled) … our understanding, a place in the new Order…

Intercept 04004569024011
Recorded: Café, The Hague, Knootoss

Elizabeth Pilmana (Member, Upper Virginia Chamber of Industrials): Thank you …(garbled)… Mr. Krauklis… (garbled) … 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 … garbled ….

Krauklis (Pres. Caine’s Chief of Staff): Ms. Pilmana, we will naturally do everything … (garbled) … support you …(garbled)… your General Altman is out … (sound of dishes dropping)… send you – at his official request, of course … (yelling in background) … of Commerce. They will be able to do everything you need… (indistinct) … the DDR’s … (indistinct) … us training … (indistinct) … the fruits of that investment with you … (garbled) …. yield in mutual profits.

Sir Adam watched as the Ministers took turns reading. “Once Caine emerged as a political figure and we detected his ties to the Order, we began to collect information on him and those associated with him, which is how we gained this information. Both intercepts were recorded in public places, which account for much of their garbled nature, but also accounts for how we were able to get them at all.

“We believe that these intercepts - and other that remain classified - show that Cain, and the Order, have a clear plan to subvert the Confederation to their control and to expand their influence to our troubled northern neighbor, Upper Virginia.”

Sir Adam sat back, looking relaxed. “In a nutshell, this is why we are so concerned about Caine.”

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

Siegfried Schertz heard his PA just as his lovely companion was slipping her dress back on. "Herr Schertz, it is the Minister."
"My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" he groaned blasphemously, and hurriedly checked his appearance in the mirror as he put Aurora von Konigsmark on.
"Yes, Excellency." he said.
"Schertz, set up an appointment with Lady Allison Bulgar forthwith."
"Yes, Excellency."
"Thank you very much." she said, and clicked off.
"Serendipity." murmured the lobbyist, blowing him a kiss and stepping out the door.
"Better that than fate." he thought, as he picked up the phone to dial the Excalbian embassy. "Yes, good afternoon, this is Siegfried Schertz at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Could you please put me through to the Ambassador's office? Thank you..."

“Yes?” Lady Allison Blugar said picking up her phone.

“My Lady,” her assistant said over the phone, “Siegfried Schertz, head of the MFA’s North Atlantic desk, is on the phone for you.”

“Very good, Constance,” Lady Allison said, “put him through.”

The Holy Empire’s ambassador to Lavenrunz swiveled in her chair slightly and crossed her legs. The office still looked as if it had only recently been occupied, with boxes of books and documents still lining one wall. Yet, the flag was in place and the Emperor’s portrait hung on the wall, so the ambassador already felt quite at home.

“Guten Tag, Herr Schertz,” Lady Allison began in a pleasant tone, “wie geht es Ihnen? Wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?“

The Republic of Syskeyia has been informed that the people of Saxmere have decided to break away from the Confederation of Soverign States and reestablish a constitutional monarchy under the exiled Grand Duke James David Patrick Kennan.

The Republic of Syskeyia hereby recognizes the government of the soverign and independant Grand Duchy of Saxmere, and recognizes James David Patrick Kennan as the legitimate head of said state.

From the Citadel, on the Feast day of St. Anselm, being the 21st day of April, in the year of Our Lord 2005,
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sukosig.gif

OOC: Internet time short. May or may not RP stuff later.

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

Thomas ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper and hair. Looking at Araceli and the High Priest, he felt a little old – he was probably a good twenty years older then they were. Yet, they seemed so much more spiritually mature and grounded. It almost made him feel like a kid.

“I own a small printing business in Trondgard and the building has a loft with a couple of apartments. I would be happy to put you and the others up there.”

Luke nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” He turned to Araceli. “Why don’t you ask Janice and Elza to go with you? Since you will be staying together, I think that might work out the best. What do you think, Araceli?”

Cousin Books Superstore HQ, The Resurgent Dream

A large envelope arrived at the Headquarters of Cousin Books Superstores bearing the return address of the Confederation Chamber of Commerce. Inside, a cover letter from the President of the Chamber thanked Cousin Books for their interest in doing business in the Confederation. A number of glossy brochures extolled the virtue of the Confederation’s business-friendly environment, its developed economy, high tech infrastructure, well-educated workforce and limited labour regulation. A government pamphlet explained the relatively easy procedures for registering a business; it explained that registration could even be done over the Internet.

On the cover of one brochure was a business card for Winston Howe, Vice President of Liberty House Multimedia, a division of Confederated Enterprises. A handwritten note on the back invited Mr. Cousin to call Howe to discuss a possible partnership.

"Actually Ambassador, I'm very well, and I hope this call finds you in excellent health and spirits." he could not suppress a smirk, thinking of the delicious lobbyist...delicious and dangerous if he thought beyond the obvious. "And it is really more about how we can be of help to you, if I may respectfully say so. Minister Aurora von Konigsmark has asked me to set up a meeting on her behalf. I'm aware that with the WMD Treaty affair you will be seeing her on a regular basis but she was hoping to talk to you about the Sovereign States matter."

Araceli smiled. "Probably. It would certainly present a cleaner image. After what happened to the Archbishop, I don't think we can be too careful about that."

Araceli briefly took Thomas's hand in hers and squeezed it chastely. "It is an honor to have you." Letting go, she turned to Luke. "I'm going to go call them and start packing." She looked to Thomas once more. "Pick me up outside Amanda's place tomorrow morning, around ten?"
...
Cousin looked through the brochures with only a casual interest, noting only those parts directly related to law or profit. Reading the note, he called Howe personally right off the bat.
...
The Ministers listened to the Excalbian ambassadors speech in silence. Lacau said nothing but his ministers, from long experience, could tell he wanted the Knootian ambassador to answer the questions asked of him before responding to either.

“Good evening and welcome to News Tonight,” a well-coiffed man in a gray suit said gravely, looking straight into the camera, “I’m Colin Rice.” The camera angle moved and the man seemed to be sitting in front of a translucent map of the Excalbian Isles with the Confederation state of Saxmere burning like a raging inferno. “Tonight we will be focusing on the crisis in Saxmere.”

A new camera angle revealed that Rice was sitting across from a slightly rumpled looking man with a thick beard. “We are pleased our guest tonight is Lord James Reynolds, the former Director of Imperial Intelligence.” Rice turned to look at Reynolds. “Thank you for joining us today, Lord Reynolds. What is your analysis of the Saxmere crisis?”

“In short,” Lord James said stroking his beard, “it’s a blood mistake on our part to get involved. A betrayal of our national interests.”

“Those are strong words, Lord Reynolds. The Emperor and his government have come out very strongly in support of Saxmerean independence and, so far, the polls show that a majority of Excalbians support that position.”

“That is true, but that support is merely emotional, rally-around-the-Emperor support. I haven’t yet heard a member of this government come out and explain how our national interests are served by independent Saxmere tied to the Catholic monarchy in Pantocratoria and its socialist government. Or how this nation – founded on libertarian, free market values – is harmed up a pro-free market government in the Confederation.”

“So, why do you believe the government is so committed to Saxmerean independence, if it doesn’t serve the national interest?”

Lord James rubbed his beard and appeared to be deep in thought. “Every since we began drawing closer to Pantocratoria, this government has increasingly been mimicking Pantocratoria’s own autocratic approach to governance – in the last few years, the Emperor has deployed our armed forces into combat situations three times without even consulting the Senate or bothering to tell most of his ministers – and its socialist economic policies. Even the Excalbian Church has elected a presiding bishop that talks of unification with Rome.”

Lord James shook his head. “We should be embracing President Caine as a fellow believer in peaceful relations among states, limited government, free markets and personal freedom. And we should be turning our cautious eye to our so-called authoritarian, socialist Catholic friends.” Lord James leaned forward. “This government has talked a lot about a conspiracy by the Order of the Invisible Hand, but I ask what about the conspiracy of the imperialists and the socialists?”

The Week On-Line
A Division of Liberty House Multimedia

Top News

Saxmere Crisis

President Caine Urges Calm; Offers Talks in Saxmere
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v209/ILCLBT/tomcaine.jpg
Polls: 65% Approval for Caine

Military Tensions Escalate

Excalbian Imperial Navy Imposes Blockade
Knootian and VERITAS Fleets Put to Sea to Counter Excalbians
Confederation Closes Airspace and Sealanes Around Saxmere

Diplomatic Rows Continue

Excalbia, Pantocratoria and Syskeyia Recognize Independent Saxmere
Resurgent Dream Ponders Recognition

Economic News

Another Quarter of Record Economic Growth Predicted
Stocks up 3.5%
Rumours of New Book Super Chain

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

“Alright,” Thomas said. He bowed toward Luke and left the hall.

Luke stood and rested a hand lightly on Araceli’s shoulder. “This is a wonderful opportunity, Araceli. But, please be careful. These are turbulent times.”

* * *

Winston Howe picked tapped his earpiece to accept the call. “Howe.”

“Sir,” his secretary said, “I have a Mr. Cousin from the Resurgent Dream on the line.”

“Cousin?” Howe tapped his handheld PC and scrolled to the name. “Ah, yes. A chain of book superstores. Yes, yes, put him through.” The line beeped. “Mr. Cousin? This is Win Howe, Liberty House Multimedia. How are today? So, I understand you’re interested in jumping into the market. Tell me what you have in mind and let’s see if we can do business.”

Araceli smiled lightly. "Don't worry, Luke. I'll be fine. Just make sure you study your scripture while I'm gone."

Cousin frowned slightly to himself. He was the richest man in the Resurgent Dream, a billionaire many times over, and the owner of thousands of stores and presses in over a dozen countries and this man was talking to him like he was some yokel ready to open his first general store. "Yes, I've had Legal secure the appropriate lisences. As far as some sort of partnership, you wrote me. What's your offer?"

The Imperial Chancery, Citadel Excalbia

“How dare he!” Lady Christina Freedman slammed one perfectly manicured hand on her desk. “How dare he! On national TV!”

“Lady Chancellor,” Lord Yornis Halton, the Minister of Defence said calmly, “the fact is that he did dare. And now we need to decide what to do about it…”

“I know what I would like to do Lord James,” the Imperial Chancellor said, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest.

Around the room there were a few grim chuckles.

“Might this rise to the level of treason?” Sarah Harrington, the Deputy Minister of State, asked quietly.

Lady Gwyneth Hapsgaard shook her head. “Certainly not. Legally speaking, my predecessor was merely expressing an opinion. It might have been favourable to our opponents, but it does not qualify as giving either aid or comfort.”

“Always the attorney,” the Chancellor said with the slightest smile, “even now that you’re in charge of intelligence.”

Lady Gwyneth merely nodded.

“Has he said anything that might violate the Official Secrets Act?” ADM Sir Derek Kunle, the Chief of General Staff leaned back and crossed his legs as he spoke.

“Not yet,” Lady Gwyneth answered.

“Do keep a close eye on him, Lady Gwyneth,” the Chancellor said. “So, back to Lord Halton’s question: how do we manage this?”

“I think our first priority,” Sarah Harrington said, “is to reassure Pantocratoria that Lord James’ opinion does not reflect any sentiment within the government of the Senate. Secondly, we need to repudiate his claims to both reassure our allies and neutral parties and to eliminate any false hope on the part of the Confederation or the DDR that we are divided.”

“Agreed,” said Lord Halton. “The Pantocratorians have been steadfast friends. I cannot think of any worthier ally. And, I for one, find it reprehensible that a former member of this government would disparage them.”

The Chancellor nodded. “We will also need to refute this for domestic consumption.” She stood and looked out the window for a moment then turned back to her ministers. “The one blessing in this that the Emperor is out of the picture for a moment. A strong statement from His Imperial Majesty might actually serve to further Reynolds’ spurious allegations. It is much better that we defend his honour in his absence.”

The Chancellor sat and picked up a pen to begin writing reminders. “Lady Gwyneth, Lord Halton, I want you to round up several Senators from the Intelligence and Defence Committees – both members of the coalition and the opposition – and get them on TV to say that the relevant committees were briefed on our actions and that they had the support of the Senate’s leadership, if not the full Senate.” She turned to ADM Sir Kunle. “Sir Derek, please make some public statements about the vital role the Pantocratorians have played in the Upper Virginia crisis. And, Ms. Harrington, I want you to convey directly to the Pantocratorian Ambassador the essence of our discussions and get out the appropriate public statements.”

The Chancellor pulled her notes off her pad. “I’ll have my office send you these instructions as formal directives before the end of the day. Thank you.”

Lord Halton was the first to stand, though the others quickly followed. “Thank you, Lady Chancellor,” they said in near unison, then filed out of the office.

OOC: Poke to my post above...

National Ecumenical Cathedral, Citadel Excalbia

Donald Slesers’ formal installation as Presiding Bishop of the Church of Excalbia was still a few days away. The Synod had delayed it to allow His Imperial Majesty to return from a brief rest on the Imperial Preserve Island. In keeping with tradition, the installation would take place in Excalbia Cathedral, the seat of the Excalbian Church.

With events in Saxmere moving quickly, however, Bishop Slesers felt the need to address the faithful, and the nation as a whole, in a public setting. A special service of prayer had been called for National Ecumenical Cathedral. John Cardinal Friesz and Miguel Cardinal Rizo were co-officiating to represent the Catholic Church. Ministers of the Excalbian Baptist Church, the Bishops of the Anglican Church in Excalbia and the Excalbian Orthodox Church were also seated on the altar. In the congregation sat the Chief Rabbi of Citadel Excalbia, who would also be invited to offer a prayer. A Muslim cleric, representing the Empire’s tiny Muslim minority sat next to the Rabbi. Further back, representatives of non-Abrahamic religions, such as the new Danaan Church, had been invited to attend, but were not scheduled to take part.

The Cathedral itself was clearly a Christian Cathedral – as evident from the large cross hanging over the altar – but in other respects, the design intentional reflected aspects of church architecture in all denominational traditions. The chief artistic element, apart from the burnished bronze modernist cross was the mosaic on the ceiling. It depicted Emperor Joshua the Great kneeling before Christ, offering the Sword of Alsgood and his crown to the Risen Lord. The Emperor’s bowed head indicated humility, while his uplifted eyes, fixed on the Lord, indicated his desire to convert to Christianity and follow Jesus. Nobles, even later emperors and empresses were depicted as part of the mass of ordinary Excalbians following their monarch in conversion.

Bishop Slesers, dressed in a blue robe with the white and gold chasuble of the Presiding Bishop with a blue and gold stole, stood and climbed the stairs to the main pulpit of the Cathedral. He looked out over the gathered crowd and the TV cameras.

“Brothers and Sisters, our martyred Presiding Bishop Gunars Purins spoke frequently and eloquently of the dangers of the Order of the Invisible Hand. He told us that today are faced with ‘false prophets who seek to ascribe the works of a personal, loving God to impersonal, mindless economic forces.’ As Pope Leo XIV has observed, this religion, which substitutes a mindless market for an omnipotent Creator, is a pernicious error.

“As the St. John wrote the early church, ‘…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.’ Therefore, we should not be afraid to speak out against its fallacies.

“The deaths of Presiding Bishop Purins and Bishop Bendoro in Tanah Burung and the beating of the drums of war in Saxmere have caused many to fear the unseen hands of the this so-called Order. But I tell you, ‘fear not!’ Remember the words of the Prophet Jeremiah, ‘Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you, declares the LORD.’ Our Lord is with us and there is no reason to fear.

“In the Gospel of St. John, Christ said, ‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.’ And, in the Gospel of St. Luke, Christ himself said, ‘I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more.’ All the works of the Order, all the threats of war, all the modern engines of destruction cannot touch what is eternal and what is true. They cannot harm that part of us that belongs to God. So, fear not!

“Part of not being afraid is not fearing to speak the truth. And we should. As Presiding Bishop Purins spoke out against the Order, so too while I speak out against it and encourage you to do so as well. However, another part of not being afraid is not fearing to the let people hear the false prophets of the Order and weigh their words against ours and make their own judgments.

“In the Gospel of St. Matthew, Christ said, ‘…let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.’ And in his epistle, St. James wrote, ‘I will show you my faith by what I do.’

“Now is not the time to simply speak out in condemnation of the Order. No, now is the time to truly live our faith. Let our light – the light of our love for God, the light of our obedience to his commandment of love – so shine before the world that even those lost in the darkness of the Order will be drawn to its purity, truth and compassion.

“As God said to the Hebrews, ‘Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.’ Now is not the time to seek to repay the Order for its perceived crimes. Now is not the time to seek to punish the Confederation or Knootoss for what we think they did to Presiding Bishop Purins or Bishop Bendoro. Now is not the time for a crusade of metal against metal, anger against anger or hatred against hatred.

“If the people of Saxmere wish independence, then let them have it. But let them pursue that path peacefully in negotiations with the Confederation. If our government fears that Knootoss seeks to interfere, then let us counter them. But let us do it through diplomacy and negotiation.

“We are called to be the light of world. Let us go and be light, that all people may be drawn to the source of that light. God be with you all.”

0600hrs
The Admiral yawned and rubbed his eyes, he then peered around the bridge, then he realised something was wrong, then he thought.
The Engines, it was the engines, they had stopped.
'Ensen, why have we stopped?' he yawned again and rubbed his left eye with a knuckle.
The ensen was distracted by something else, he then turned to see the Admiral standing in his stripy pyjamas on the bridge.
'Oh, morning Admiral, we have stopped under orders, Captain Jenkins is nearly on our position now, we ha-'

The Radio burst into life and a squeaky, almost girlish, voice burst overhead.
'Morning sweeties!' it cried, the Admiral simply grinned and the Ensen buried his face in his hands.
The Admiral then picked up the speaker horn and clicked the button.
'Morning Darling,' replied Admiral Glover 'I suggest you knock off the girlish attitude, I have a Ensen here trying to burrow himself into the deck.
there was a loud roaring of laughter over the tannon, then the voice changed to a clipped Midlonian accent.
'Sorry Old boy, just an old joke, tell the ensen its just a joke Glovey.'
'Told ya.' The Admiral grinned, the Ensen merely sank some more into his chair.
'We'll be on your mob in an hour or so Glovey.' Continued Jenkins. 'Better wait for us, and, do make sure you're in uniform...'
'How did y-' Glover began
'You always was a lazy git.' chuckled Jenkins 'I bet you're in your stripy pyjamas, with the tear at the top of that stupid hat.'
Sure enough the Admiral was, he laughed and put the speaker horn down and stalked off into his ready room to change.

"Actually Ambassador, I'm very well, and I hope this call finds you in excellent health and spirits." he could not suppress a smirk, thinking of the delicious lobbyist...delicious and dangerous if he thought beyond the obvious. "And it is really more about how we can be of help to you, if I may respectfully say so. Minister Aurora von Konigsmark has asked me to set up a meeting on her behalf. I'm aware that with the WMD Treaty affair you will be seeing her on a regular basis but she was hoping to talk to you about the Sovereign States matter."

Lady Allison leaned back in her seat. “I would be very pleased to meet with the Minister to discuss the situation in the Confederation. Would some time later today be convenient?”

New Rome, Pantocratoria

“I hope you are right, your Excellency,” Baron James replied to Dr. Drapeur as they passed the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator. “I am doing this to alleviate the suffering of my people. The last thing I want to do is bring a war down upon their heads.”

The Baron seemed to spend the rest of the trip in thought.

As they entered the courtyard of the palace, James looked out the window of the limousine at the assembled troops, members of the diplomatic corps and all the surrounding pomp and circumstance. He could not help but to be impressed. The Emperor was clearly making a point of treating James as a legitimate Head of State. It was a gesture that he knew would resonate at home and around the world.

Suddenly, James’ palms were sweaty and he felt a little unsettled in his stomach. This was a moment for which he had been planning for so long and, now, it was here. And so much depended on him. Andreus was treating him as Head of State, but it was still up to him to act like and prove that he actually merited the respect he was being given.

James exited the vehicle and followed Dr. Drapeur and the Foreign Minister into the palace. As he walked down the red carpet, he caught sight of his ambassador, Sir Alec, with the rest of the diplomatic corps. Beside Sir Alec, he saw Ryan Endelman and nodded to the veteran politician.

As he approached the Imperial throne, James paused and bowed to Emperor before continuing his approach.

James was clearly moved by Emperor Andreus’ gesture of bestowing the fraternal kisses. He nodded his head to the Emperor.

“Merci pour votre accueil gracieux, votre Majesté,” James said, hoping his French was intelligible. “C'est une joie pour être dans Pantocratoria.”

Umbra, Saxmere

“What do you mean I can’t go to Pantocratoria?” Lt. Gov. Douglas Aldaris’ face was a mixture of disappointment and anger.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Grace Theissen said, trying to avoid her boss’ gaze, “but the Confederation has closed all airspace around Saxmere. All flights are grounded.”

“But…” Aldaris started to protest, but decided it would do no good. It was not Grace’s fault and there was nothing she could do about it. “Get me Governor Peller, Grace.”

Moments later, Aldaris was behind his desk on the phone. “Good morning, Governor.”

“Good morning, Douglas,” the Governor said over the phone. “I understand you won’t be going to Pantocratoria after all.”

“No, sir, I guess not. I’ll have to set up a videoconference and open negotiations with Baron James over a secure line. It’s not optimal, but it should do until we can meet face-to-face.”

“Good, good, Douglas.”

“Sir,” Aldaris’ voice was tinged with nervousness, “I was wondering what you were going to do about Caine’s offer to come here for negotiations?”

After a moment of silence, Pellar spoke. “I haven’t made a firm decision, I still need to consult with Parliament, but I’m inclined to accept his offer. What do you think, Douglas?”

“I don’t trust Caine, sir. And I don’t like the idea of bringing him here, but,” Aldaris swallowed, “but I guess we have no choice. Opinion would certainly turn against us if we rebuffed what looks like a good faith offer to talk…”

“My thoughts exactly, Douglas.”

---------------------------
KDF Onoverwinnelijk
Arctic Ocean
---------------------------

Snow covered the deck of the small grey destroyer KDF Onoverwinnelijk* The water washed, the waves crashed, the wind howled and the ice broke as the vessel made its way through the vast landscape of the northernmost of the Atlantic. At the vast constrast of dark black water and snowwhite land, the water gave way to endless stretches of ice. The icebreakers pushed on, one ship seeing the other only on the very edge of the snow-covered horizon.

DING DING DING, the warning bell sounded from the lookout post outside, the sound outside almost lost in the icy wind. Immediately afterwards, inside the heated bridge, came a report from the CAESAR computer. The soft female voice whispered with caution: “Warning. Warning. Iceberg right ahead. Collision danger.”

Captain Dekker rushed from his quarters to the bridge, immediately hurrying to the section dealing with the engines. The bell in the engineering section rang and the order was given: “Hard astarboard,’ The quartermaster repeated the order, “Hard astarboard. The helm is hard over, sir.”

A terrible high-pitched grinding noise went all long the ships side as the Onoverwinnelijk was crushing the ice as the skipper came rushing from the deck below, turning to one of the officers at tactical. “What is that sound?” he asked with a heavy Frisian accent. “We are going alongside the iceberg,” the officer whispered back as the captain ordered the closing of the emergency doors behind him.

“Damage report!”

CAESAR buzzed as a list of incoming reports formed on the captain’s screen, made all the more pregnant by the incoming audio reports from the lower decks. Men and women were making to higher decks as the icy-cold darkness rushed in along the entire length of the deck in an unstoppable wave of water. He looked over the cool, calculated recommendation CEASAR gave him, and noticed that those not already engaged with emergency control were staring at him. His First was now standing next to him, the same look graved upon his bearded face.

”Shall I?”, he whispered. A quiet nod came as an answer sealing the fate of the old destroyer.

Dekker patted the seating on his chair one last time before standing up and opening the shipwide channel: “This is the captain speaking”, he said with his voice trembling. “We are abandoning ship. Make way for the lifeboats. Follow standard procedures, do what you were trained to do. We’ll meet on the ice to wait for someone to pick us up. Good luck to all of you. Dekker out.”

-------------------------------
Submarine KDF Lely
Atlantic Ocean, near the C.S.S.
-------------------------------
“Location”, captain Sophie Merwede whispered to her helm as she bowed over the control chair to see the screens better.

With the diesel-electric Zeedier-class submarine (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Zeedier-class_submarine) in grey mode all voices were hushed and a general air of calm had come over the ship. The dim lights illuminated only the absolute necessities, only adding to the atmosphere of tranquillity.

“CAESAR thinks we cleared the blockade, Ma’am”, the helm whispered back. “Nav puts us at one mile outside of Confederate waters.”

“Very well”, the thirty-five year old woman whispered back. “Set nav alpha and change course three degrees starboard, maintain depth. Bring us into final position and then we'll play dead fish.”

*KDF Onoverwinnelijk: KDF Invincible. Also do not bother with rescue operations or anything like that. There will be no SOS and Knootoss will take care of the crew. This was just to give my brilliant Arctic insertion strategy a little flavour. *cough*

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Ministers listened to the Excalbian ambassadors speech in silence. Lacau said nothing but his ministers, from long experience, could tell he wanted the Knootian ambassador to answer the questions asked of him before responding to either.

The ambassador reacted irritably to the show of the intelligence data. Turning to the Excalbian, he began: “These garbled patches of text say nothing – it proves absolutely nothing of any kind that would justify your actions, good Sir, yet it is your admittance Excalbia has been spying on many important people in the Confederacy and more disturbing that the Holy Empire has been spying in Knootoss itself!” He bristled on, “I can assure you that my government will appraise the Confederacy of this fact and that we will be taking steps against this heinous practice.”

He turned again to Lacau: “If the Excalbian intent truly is to prevent secession by force then they need not worry about the Knootian and Confederate strategies,” he said neutrally, “And their ships can safely extract themselves from the area as we would not have deployed them without their previous actions.

I must also protest the notion that the Confederation has violated its constitution. This has never happened, and all legislative changes have either been proposed or approved by a majority of the centre-left parliament and supported by popular majority. The Confederation has been handling affairs in an entirely democratic manner, with respect for the law. President Caine is a man of vision, but also a man of compromise. As I understand it, he will offer talks in Saxmere about the existing situation to try to find a mutually agreeable solution.”

Pressing a button, Cornelissen turned off his own holoviewer while again eying the Excalbian. “The Ambassador raises another interesting point, namely the decentralised nature of and recent reforms in the Confederate military. The ambassador rightly points out that the Confederation has started to give new thought to its military posture precisely because it is no longer a de facto Protectorate, existing by the grace of the military power of the Holy Empire. In fact, we only stepped in when Excalbia voided the Treaty of Jefferson on its own accord. (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=7428112&postcount=49). Again a preventative measure, I’m sure. The Holy Empire should be the last to lecture the Confederacy on how to provide its own security when it voids its own treaties because of Confederate ‘disobedience’.”

“Now, if I may answer the ministers questions on the subject at hand,” he continued turning back to Lacau, “Our view on the government in exile is that it is unconstitutional and that it is a puppet acting merely in the interests of Excalbia and Pantocratoria. We are allied to many constitutional monarchies, as you may are well aware” he inclined his head, “and Knootoss was a constitutional monarchy for much of the nineteenth century. I can assure you that our response would have been the same if Pantocratoria had propped up a Republican government in exile.” He paused, “And if I may respond to the concerns by Minister Milestone, the Knootian government has always endorsed the principle of laicité (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La%EFcit%E9) and the Caine administration endorses a similar view. In no way is there a crusade against religion, nor does either nation imposes restrictions on religious liberties.” He smiled. “I believe the Danaan church even has its own presence in the Confederation as well as in Knootoss and neither has had any trouble in practicing its religion or in evangelising. The Prime Minister strictly opposes the way religion is abused to further material political purposes in this whole affair, not religion itself. She is, indeed, herself religious.”

OOC: Well done Knoot for the touch of realism.
IC:

The Foreign Ministry, Hofburg, Lavenrunz

"Lady Allison Bulgar, your Excellency." said Aurora von Konigsmark's secretary as that lady entered the Foreign Minister's office. The tall elegant lady, her hair newly coiffed in a helmet of grey-blonde curls, rose and bowed politely. "Welcome, Ambassador. I hope I find you in good health." she paused as the secretary offered refreshments which included tea, coffee or water, and after the pleasantries sat down. From outside came the sound of an Imperial Guards' band playing the Radetsky March and faint noises of traffic.
"As you doubtless know, we are moving towards closer ties with both the Resurgent Dream and Pantocratoria. Excalbia, as a predominantly Catholic nation and as a fellow monarchy has many things in common with Lavenrunz. But we have no formal arrangements as yet. You had mentioned to the Chancellor a few nights ago that you would be able on behalf of your government to propose such arrangements. However, it must be understood as well that we would not weigh against another ally unless there was no other choice. I apologize for my blunt language, but given the current circumstances you must see that it could not be otherwise. Therefore I must ask you precisely what you want from us and what would be to our mutual benefit between Excalbia and Lavenrunz."

((OOC: Excalbia's actually Protestant, hun))

While the ministers and ambassadors were speaking, they were served dinner. Dinner consisted first of a Japanese clear soup and then a salad with ranch dressing. Following this was an appetizer of flaming jumbo shrimp. The main course consisted of sea scallops served with lightly seasoned Hibachi vegetables, fried rice, and garlic noodles. The dessert was an orange sherbet.

Lacau paused for a long moment. He seemed to be contemplating the situation as he ate his salad, the course they were on at the moment. "Sir Adam, this nation is bound by treaty not to conduct intelligence activities within Knootoss without the permission of the Knootian government. The spirit of the treaty prevents me from desiring to hear the results of any espionage done in that country."

Brown grinned slightly, looking to Sir Adam. "Tell me, Sir Adam, where would it be easier to set up a branch of the Protestant Church of Excalbia at present, in Sovereign States or in Pantocratoria?"

((Remind me to put up a statue or something for that Brown character. And thanks for the compliment, Jo :) ))

The Knootian ambassador grinned widely, quickly pricking some salad on his saladfork as he was looking over to the other foodstuffs.

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam listened carefully to the Knootian Ambassador’s presentation. “If I might,” he said politely as the Knootian cleared machinery, “I would like to clarify a few of my colleagues’ statement.” Sir Adam smiled and nodded politely at Cornelissen. “If you would again refer to the e-papers I passed around,” the Ambassador tapped a short command into his handheld PC, “you will see the text of Treaty of Jefferson to which Ambassador Cornelissen referred. The highlighted portion is a provision against making alliances with foreign powers in conflict with another signatory of the pact. At the time President Caine announced his intention to join the K.I.S.T. and open negotiations with Knootoss on other areas of cooperation, the Holy Empire had an active embargo against the DDR for its invasion of Tanah Burung. It was my government’s position that opening negotiations with Knootoss, without prior diplomatic consultation, violated both the spirit and letter of the treaty. While it might be possible to debate the finer point of whether or not the embargo constituted a conflict – of a diplomatic and commercial nature – under the terms of the Treaty, and whether or not the Confederation’s action was, therefore, a violation of the letter of the treaty, I think most will agree that it certainly violated the spirit of that agreement.

“In regard to the independent Saxmerean government it is our view - supported by numerous constitutional scholars within the Confederation, I might add - that the government of Saxmere has the sovereign right to secede from the Confederation and to organize a government of its own choosing. The Saxmerean government has acted democratically through out the process and without interference from us or any other foreign power. I wager that the even the DDR’s vaunted intelligence apparatus cannot conjure any Excalbians or Pantocratorians on the scene manipulating secession, for the simple reason that there are none.”

Sir Adam sat back and relaxed as waiters began serving dinner. Everything was exquisite, as he had come to expect in the Danaan High Kingdom.

When Prime Minister Lacau spoke, Sir Adam put down his chopsticks and listened closely. “A very commendable position, your Excellency. We have always been impressed by the High Kingdom’s fidelity to the spirit and letter of its agreements.” The Ambassador glanced at Cornelissen. “I should point out, however, that no such agreement exists between the Holy Empire and the DDR and that, while regrettable, intelligence gathering is a regular part of international affairs. For instance, we have identified several members of the Knootian intelligence service operating in various parts of the Confederation, including within Saxmere.”

Brown’s question caught Sir Adam by surprise, a fact he attempted to conceal by putting some noodles in his mouth and chewing as he recovered. He smiled lightly as he waited to finish the noodles. When he finished, he said, “While I take your point, Minister, it is difficult to answer your question because the Church of Excalbia predates the Confederation’s constitution in the territory of the Confederation. Whether or not the Confederation would welcome the establishment of such a church now is an open question. Although, I believe the Confederation’s efforts to smear and discredit religious leaders, including the late Presiding Bishop of the Excalbian Church, hints at the answer.”

The Foreign Ministry, Hofburg, Lavenrunz

Lady Allison Blugar, herself a tall, elegant woman, entered the Minister’s office with a gracious bow. She accepted the secretary’s offer of tea and took the offered seat. “Thank you for the invitation to meet with you, Minister,” she said politely.

“The Holy Empire has long enjoyed cordial relations with both the Resurgent Dream and Pantocratoria.” The Ambassador’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “And while our State church is – nominally – protestant, we have always been proud of our outstanding relations with our Catholic brethren and with the Vatican itself.”

Lady Allison, dressed in a deep blue pants suit, crossed her legs and sipped her tea. “We are quite anxious to develop closer relations with Lavenrunz; we, too, believe that we have much in common. And, I assure you that we have no intention of trying to come between your nation and your ally.”

The Ambassador leaned forward and set her cup on the table. “We would like to propose a free trade agreement with Lavenrunz. We also believe that there might be considerable room for cooperation in military sales; your military sector seems to be particularly developed in land-based systems, while ours is fairly developed in naval systems.”

Lady Allison smiled slightly. “With regard to the current crisis in the North Atlantic, my government would be interested in knowing whether Lavenrunz might be able to play a role in, perhaps, hosting talks between Excalbia and Knootoss to resolve this dispute.”

Aboard INV Landing, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

“Second contact, Ma’am,” RadarTech 2nd class Trevor Skinner said, looking up at the officer of the deck. Skinner hit a key and transferred his data to one of the large plasma screens that dominated the command cruiser’s CIC. A bright red icon seemed to holding position just outside the Confederation’s territorial waters, which were marked in maroon. “ASW bird from Majestic picked up intermittent contact with a submerged object making for Confederation waters. They tracked it for a while, then lost it.” A dashed red line marked the contact and its tracked course. “An array of active LF sonar buoys just picked up a contact. The new contact is along the likely course of the original contact.”

“Good work, Mr. Skinner,” LCDR Anna Laivniece said, patting the tech on his shoulder. She turned to another crewman. “What sounds is the LFS array picking up, Chief?”

“Not many, Commander,” Chief Jon Tillis said, chewing his lip. “Whatever it is, it’s hard to pick up against the background noise. Might be diesel-electric. Maybe a closed system. Certainly not very big.”

“Ma’am,” Skinner said, “lost contact. Looks like its gone silent.”

Laivniece nodded, then tapped the side of her earpiece. “Con, CIC, probable contact running the blockade. We just lost it and need to reacquire…”

Moments later, half a dozen anti-submarine warfare plane were dropping towed active sonar arrays into the waters off the Confederation looking for the sub.

Tarana, the Resurgent Dream

Lacau listened quietly. "Intelligence is a part of what many states do. However, it does not carry with it the customary implied protections of soldiers in uniform and espionage laws nations pass regarding their own territory are quite legitimate."

He frowned a little, continuing. "I do not believe Mr. Brown's point was directed at the specific fortunes of the Church of Excalbia or the specific laws of Sovereign States. He was simply pointing out that the Exalbian government has strongly allied itself with nations with far less religious liberty than currently exists in the Confederation. I would hope to know why such different standards are used to judge the religious liberties of different nations."

The prime minister ate another shrimp. "I do want to assure you both that this government has no intention of abandoning its friendship with either Excalbia or with Knootoss. I hope you will both keep this conversation in its proper context."
...
Outside the Lavenrunzian embassy, a small motorcade pulled up. The motorcade contained six limousines, two police cruisers, and four motorcycle police cars. On the hoods of the limousines flew minitature flags of Gwydion and Shieldcrest. A chauffeur leaped out of the passenger door of the middle limousine and moved to open the back door. Out stepped a beautiful but inordinately muscular sidhe woman, looking as strong as the average troll. She was dressed elegantly in green gossamer and carried herself towards the embassy gate with a regal air that seemed to belie her rather butch figure. She approached unattended and any other passengers remained in their limousines.

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam ate some more noodles and mulled over the Prime Minister’s comment. His brow knotted in a look of concentration as he ate, while his eyes maintained a look of pleasant contentment. “Thank you for your comment about context, your Excellency, and your reaffirmation of friendship between Excalbia and the Danaan High Kingdom. During my tenure, I have seen the High Kingdom emerge as one of our most valued friends and largest trading partners. We certainly hope that none of the events surrounding this current crisis will alter that.”

The Ambassador tried one of the shrimp. “Um.. Excellent, as always.” He laid down his chopsticks and smiled. “I do not think we are using different standards to judge Pantocratoria and the Confederation. Our conclusion that the Confederation government has been subverted by the Order of the Invisible and is acting contrary to its own norms of democracy is not derived exclusively from a measure of religious liberty.”

Sir Adam took a sip of wine and dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “In terms of religious liberty, it is probably quite true that there is more religious diversity in the Confederation and that it is easier to establish a new religion there than in Pantocratoria. However, part of having true religious liberty is having the freedom to practice your faith publicly without fear of censure or ridicule. Yet, in the Confederation, religious leaders of all stripes are being hounded, ridiculed and mocked – not directly by the government – but by media outlets closely linked to the government and its backers in the Order. As a result, there has been a definite chilling effect on organized religion in the Confederation.”

After all the ceremony of his arrival and the end of the broadcast, the Grand Duke of Saxmere had a personal audience with the Emperor. Instead of receiving him in the French Suite, where the Emperor conducted most of his daily business and granted most audiences, the audience was granted in the offices in the Emperor's personal apartments. This was more a gesture for the court than the cameras, which were now switched off - only the most favoured courtiers were done the privilege of an audience in the Emperor's personal apartments, and the honour was restricted to dukes and duchesses, and those of higher ranks still. Even the Emperor's cousin Jacqueline, herself the daughter of a duke, could not have been and was not granted such an audience until she married Prince Basil. In a simple gesture it was apparent to the whole of the court that James was to be treated with the upmost respect despite the fact that he lacked an actual country, if for no other reason than the fact that he personally enjoyed the Emperor's favour. Small things meant a lot in a world where a man could be made with a nod and unmade with a glance.

"Monsieur le Grand Duc," the Emperor began, continuing in perfect English after the appellation. "There are a number of things which we should discuss. I believe the first and most pressing is to capitalise on the invitation extended to you by the Saxmerean parliament. The Knootians and their puppets in the Confederation are now talking as if secession is a debate yet to be had, something which needs to be talked about, something which needs to be discussed, which has not yet been decided upon."

"We cannot stand by and let their doubletalk go unanswered. Even by their law, Saxmere's government has the right to secede if it desires to do so. The de facto government of Saxmere, that is to say, the presently assembled parliament has already made the decision. It has already passed an act of secession. There is no... public debate which must be had." the Emperor almost sneers. "The debate was already had in that democratic forum. The issue has already been decided for Saxmere by the democratically composed parliament of Saxmere. By any legitimate interpretation, Saxmere is legally a sovereign, independent nation once again. The parliament has made it so already."

"I suggest that you become the champion of parliament. The guardian of its democratic right." the Emperor advised. "The parliament has invited you back as Grand Duke. You should speak to the press, and make it clear that you, as a defender of democracy and parliaments, wish to do as the democratically elected parliament of Saxmere has asked, nay, demanded. You wish to return to rule with parliament. You have been received here as a head of state because that is what you are both by birth and by act of that same parliament. And make it clear that the only reason you have not returned yet is because, while they are talking about further debate and discussion, the Confederation is blockading Saxmere. While they are talking about reconciling differences, they are starving Saxmere by restricting trade and freedom of movement back and forth from overseas."

"After you make such a statement to the international press, and frame it as an address to the people of Saxmere," the Emperor concluded. "Pantocratoria will demand that the Confederation lift the illegal blockade of the independent state of Saxmere, and allow you to return. Once there, you should immediately have a coronation, and follow it by immediately calling parliament and presiding over the session, after publicly thanking them to inviting you back, and commending them for their commitment to the values which have made Saxmere great. Those are my thoughts, monsieur, what are yours?"

Winston Howe smiled as he listened to Cousin and scrolled through a series of spreadsheets displayed on his computer. “I can tell that you’re the kind of man we want to do business with, Mr. Cousin. Straight to the point. So,” Howe leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, “here’s the point: the bookseller’s market is very competitive in the Confederation and throughout the Excalbian Isles; a newcomer to the market needs a competitive advantage in order carve out a market share. Liberty House Multimedia is prepared to offer you that competitive advantage in the form of a special distribution deal. As the largest publisher of books, software and magazines in the Isles, we’ll give you discount over that of your competitors.”

Howe leaned forward and began tapping on his computer. “You might rightly ask what we get out of the deal and I’ll tell you, Mr. Cousin. In return, we ask that you sign a global distribution deal, meaning that our publications get preferential display in your outlets – worldwide, not just in the Isles.” Howe’s smile seemed to sharpen. “Our Market analysis indicates that there is significant demand – because of the conflict in the North Atlantic – for information on the causes of the conflict, especially the Order of the Invisible Hand. So, we’ve prepared a couple of books that delve into the facts behind the myths and urban legends about the Order. We expect it to sell well and would like to be able to distribute it – and our other products – globally through your chain.”

Howe rested his elbows on the table and then cradled his chin in his palms. “What do you say, Mr. Cousin?”

"Certainly you have some very nice improvements in naval systems, but perhaps Lavenrunz might be in a better position to market them if that is your interest." said Von Konigsmark politely. "Regardless of that what you suggest is a very good idea for an exchange. As for mediation, I'm happy to say that at the most recent VERITAS meeting it was agreed that Lavenrunz should be a principal mediator on behalf of the alliance. Will that be satisfactory? I would like to propose that the Chancellor and myself be involved directly, as well as our envoys to Knootoss and Pantocratoria. I will also recommend ambassadors to Excalbia, Sovereign States and Saxmere. I hope this will answer your concerns adequately, Lady Allison."

((*Points Jo up to post*))

Cousin leaned back in his chair, smiling lightly. "I believe that I could certainly find a market for information on the conflict in the North Atlantic in all my stores worldwide. However...preferential display over all other publishers...Well, I'm reluctant to give you preferential display over my own titles. I am a publisher as well as a seller, Mr. Howe. That fact allows me to sell books at a much lower price than many of my competitors. Perhaps we could come to a more limited agreement, sir?"
...
That night, Araceli called the rest of the party and made arrangements. The next morning, she was waiting with a small bag of clothes, toiletries, and a book for the others to arrive.

Hello.

Sorry for the interruption. I am new to NationStates and I don't understand what a regional password is and how it is used. If someone could help me out, I would really appreciate it. There was no one in the help forums that I could find, or else I didn't understand what to do.

Thank you very much,
Piccadillia

At the gates of the embassy, an Imperial Marine Sergeant stepped forward. He was wearing the formal dress of the Corps, with a blue uniform, brimmed cap and a sword bayonet in its gleaming sheath, while he bore a G-3 rifle at port arms. "May I be of service, Ma'am?" he asked.

The woman smiled lightly. "I would like to speak to the ambassador." Her tone indicated that she was both the a woman who felt that she should be able to see such personages more or less at will and that she fully expected the guard to know exactly who she was or, perhaps, to make some inferences from her conveyance.

The woman smiled lightly. "Is Her Excellency by any chance available?"

The Sergeant was not apologetic. He replied, firmly but politely, "May I ask who is calling on the Ambassador, Ma'am?"

The woman arched a brow slightly, frowning at the guard. "The Grand Duchess of Shieldcrest."

The Sergeant said, "If your Grace would wait a moment, I will make sure that the Ambassador knows that you're here." He nodded to his corporal, who ducked into the gate's communication/security hut.

Inside, Baron Wolfmar was furious because his computer had frozen, and was rebooting. "Sir?" said his XO, peeping around the corner into the open door of the office. "There's a sort of lady outside who wants to see the ambassador, but there is no appointment."
"So? Tell her to make an appointment and come back."
"She came in a limousine."
"So?" Wolfmar straightened and glared at the XO, who backed away discreetly. "For God's sake, we'll have everyone with a limousine in here. Find out who she is!"
"She's the Duchess of Shieldcrest." said the XO.
"Whatever that means." Wolfmar was suddenly disquieted. He got the computer online and requested public information for a profile on the Duchess. Meanwhile, he sent an order down to the Sergeant to invite the Duchess into a waiting room and for someone to offer her refreshments.

"Highness." the sidhe lady corrected gently. She glanced briefly at the building. This was the first time she'd had a chance to come look at the Lavenrunzian embassy to the Resurgent Dream. She had, however, heard very good things about Ambassador von Festeburh whom she planned to be meeting soon. "And I will wait."

((Wiki link for all the stuff he could look up on the Grand Duchess http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Nianki ))

Midlonian Embassy, The Hauge

The typist's fingers were blurred over the keys as she hammered out the message dictated to her, the keypad itself was similar to that of an old typewriter, yet the see-trough, neon screen floating in front of her showed the letters in crisp, blue digital. A youngish man in a crisp navy blue suit was dictating, taking a sip of Pink Bunny Cola and a draught on his cigarette every so often.

To: Knootoss Ministry of Foreign affairs.
From: Midlonian Foreign and Economic offices.
Re: URGENT, Atlantic Situation.

It has come to the attention of our Intelligence Ministries of major naval activity in the Excalbian Isles. In order to protect both Midlonian and Knootian Merchant shipping in the area His Majesties Government has authorized four carrier groups to travel to the area in order to ensure that Midlonian and Knootian shipping is not threatened by external powers in any way, they will arrive in approximately one week as of this E-Mail.
Should any requests for either the removal or usage of these groups in any action other than protecting merchant shipping be necessary, please liaise with the Ministry of Defence at:
Defence@Overseer.Midlonia.net

Yours sincerely, Fredrick Robinson, Foreign office liaison for Knootoss

The E-mail thundered off to whichever Knootian office sorted such matters.

Meeting with the cabinet
Danaan High Kingdom of The Resurgent Dream
“I believe the Excalbian ambassador is referring to the recent scandals surrounding religious groups?” the Knootian asked without really awaiting any answer. “There have been cases of sexual abuse by priests highlighted in the Confederate media”, he said coolly, “And of course the sexual exploits of the late Bishop Purins have been published all over the Isles. This is only understandable given the circumstances, unless of course one expects such news to go unreported because the church is involved.”

He turned again to the Prime Minister: “I tend to think that media attention for some of the excesses within the church is still preferable to the open oppression in other countries.”

OOC: Bump for Saxmere's reply to the Emperor

OOC: And for Sovereign States to move things along with the missionaries

Lacau nodded to both ambassadors. "I am not going to recognize Saxmere at the present time. However, I am making no promise never to recognize the independence of Saxmere. The Danaan High Kingdom will not act against the interests of her Knootian or her Excalbian allies. We remain loyal to all of our friends even when they make competing claims. We will offer our full assistance in helping your two nations reach an amicable and mutually agreeable solution and we urge you both to leave the internal affairs of Sovereign States to Sovereign States."

EDIT: this post has been moved to get its own seperate thread:

A fly on the wall, and a prince in the bed (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=416709)

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

In an antechamber of rose colored velvet cushioned chairs with a large clock made of a dark wood ticking quietly, several people waited. Some waited impatiently, glancing at the clock and then at their own watches, glaring ineffectively at the young man who sat calmly tapping the keys on his computer. Others waited glumly, as if believing they would wait and then be unsatisfied. One, a naval officer in formal blues with gold rings on his sleeve and a sword at his side stood looking out the rain streaked windows at the square below.
At length the young man picked up his phone, on which a red light had begun to blink. He said, "Yes, Excellency," and rose, going to the door to open it. Out came a greying haired man in a formal suit who looked imperiously through the room, then said, "Captain the Ritter von Greim?"
The naval officer turned, and looked at him inquiringly. He had an air of quiet command, his grey eyes rather stern and clear. The grey haired man said, "Please come with me."
Envious eyes watched him, heard his mirror gleaming boots click over the floor and then saw the door closed behind him.
Inside, General Hans Schlabel was puffing a cigar and sitting in the lounging area across the room from his desk, with Admiral de Goethe and Baron Stein. "Captain." said Schlabel, rising.
Greim stiffened, clicked his heels and bowed his head. "Excellency."
"Good." said Schlabel, nodding, glancing at de Goethe, who raised her eyebrows and sipped from a bell glass of brandy. "Now, Captain, I have selected you for a signal honor. I'm aware that you have recently completed tests on the Aegis system as placed in our destroyer upgrading program. I want you to take the rank of acting commodore and escort a diplomatic party to the North Atlantic to support the mediation. Do you accept this mission?"
Greim's aristocratic coolness was somewhat disrupted by this, and he said, his darting eyes betraying confusion, "I don't understand, Chancellor. Why in this way? Why not just have orders sent to me? I am a naval officer, I will simply follow them."
"Of course you will." Schlabel's good eye looked piercingly into his. "But this is no ordinary mission. Some may want to sabotage it. You will be responsible for our end of the security. It will not be an easy or light mission. Greim, I will not send a large force into Excalbian waters to mess things up; it must be our diplomacy and influence which prevail here, not military might. I chose you because you do obey orders and yet you have a brain in your head. You will, if you take this on, take on a world of headaches, not just dealing with naval matters but with high politics and diplomacy."
"I see...I see, Excellency. May I ask who will be leading that part of the mission?"
Schlabel looked at him gravely. "I will."

Zwoll, Lavenrunz

Jakob Bund glanced at his reflection in the glass of a duty free shop as he moved towards the waiting area for his plane. He saw sunglasses framing a chiseled face, dark hair, a dark suit; a man with strong looking hands carrying a briefcase. With a faint smile, he went towards the departures area and boarded, going into the first class section.

Tarana, Resurgent Dream

Ambassador von Festeburg herself came into the antechamber, and extended a bow, saying, "Highness, please excuse the wait, but we are so newly established at our embassy here...will you accept some refreshments, or is your business urgent?"

Meeting with the cabinet
Danaan High Kingdom of The Resurgent Dream
“I believe the Excalbian ambassador is referring to the recent scandals surrounding religious groups?” the Knootian asked without really awaiting any answer. “There have been cases of sexual abuse by priests highlighted in the Confederate media”, he said coolly, “And of course the sexual exploits of the late Bishop Purins have been published all over the Isles. This is only understandable given the circumstances, unless of course one expects such news to go unreported because the church is involved.”

He turned again to the Prime Minister: “I tend to think that media attention for some of the excesses within the church is still preferable to the open oppression in other countries.”

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam looked at his Knootian colleague with arched eyebrows. "First, let me say that I would gladly trade comparisons over the level of press freedom in the Holy Empire with any nation. Bar none. We believe in a free press and the right of the press to draw public attention to any misconduct in any public entity, be it the government or the church."

The Ambassador turned to the Prime Minister. "Secondly, I believe that there is quite a difference between legitimate reporting on actual misdeeds and parroting rumour, inuendo and contrived scandals as part of an orchestrated smear campaign."

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

Lady Allison nodded politely. “I believe that it might be wise to start with an exchange of military contracts – with Lavenrunz acquiring naval components from the Holy Empire and we acquiring ground components from you. As for marketing our naval systems, if Lavenrunz would be interested into entering into a co-production agreement, we could certainly explore such a possibility. That would allow us to jointly market the naval systems and share in the profits.”

The Ambassador leaned back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap. “As for the mediation,” she said soberly, “we welcome Lavenrunz’s participation and your personal involvement as well as that of the Chancellor, Minister von Konigsmark. I can assure you that we will cooperate to the fullest.” Lady Allison leaned forward slightly. “Where do you propose that the discussions take place, Minister?”

Nianki smiled, rising from her seat as the ambassador came to greet her. "I would not mind refreshments. My business is not so urgent that a few minutes will matter. I've actually come to talk to you about our 'common friends', the Knootians."
...
Lacau glanced to Sir Adam, nodding slightly. "I understand that. Our position is that which we just stated." He frowned slightly. He thought he had given a final air to his last statement.

((OOC: Excalbia, I think you missed a post by TRD))

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream
The Knootian ambassador just nodded, ignoring the remarks regarding the media and finishing his dinner. He had nothing more to add, but he made a mental note to thank Lacau in private after the meeting.

The ministers finished their dinner and Lacau smiled lightly. "Thank you all for coming to speak with me. I would like both Excalbia and Knootoss to consider the resources of the Resurgent Dream at their disposal for purposes of finding a diplomatic solution to this problem."

((OOC: Edited post 278))

New Rome, Pantocratoria

As Baron James made his way through the palace to his audience with the Emperor, he noted that he was being shown to the His Imperial Majesty’s private office. While he did not fully realize how rare such audiences were, he did appreciate the significance of being shown to a monarch’s personal apartment rather than to his official offices.

“Your Majesty,” the would-be Grand Duke bowed deeply as he entered the private office.

After the Emperor finished speaking, James nodded, his brows knotting slightly. “Your thoughts on the subject mirror my own, your Majesty.” He stood at parade rest; his posture relaxed, yet straight. “I believe Sir Alec and Mr. Edelmann, with the kind support of your Foreign Minister, have already laid the groundwork for such a statement. I was thinking of calling a press conference at our new Embassy here – to make a direct address to the people of Saxmere. And for extra impact, I was planning to make sure the Confederation – and Knootian press are invited. Do you think it would be a problem to allow the Knootian press to attend, your Majesty? I am not sure what the impact of the embargo has been on their press.”

Baron James looked levelly at the Emperor. “In your opinion, your Majesty, do you believe that the Knootians are prepared to go war with Excalbia and possibly Pantocratoria to prevent Saxmerean succession? I look forward to returning to my ancestral homeland and accepting the crown as Grand Duke – I hope you will favor us with a visit on that day – but I do wish to keep a realistic assessment of the potential costs to my people. And my allies.”

Umbra, Saxmere

The cameras whirled and Sean Peller smiled a tentative, yet reassuring smile. It was the kind of smile your father might give you when you had ruined your school project and, although a penalty would be paid, you knew he would help you fix it.

The Governor leaned forward slightly. “My fellow Saxmereans. And citizens of the Confederation. The last few days have been momentous. Our parliament has voted to exercise its right under the Confederation constitution to withdraw from the Confederation and to chart an independent course for Saxmere.

“I will not lie to you – I was not sure such a declaration was the right step to take at this time and I urged our parliament to move with caution. Nevertheless, the parliament did act. And in a democratic society, the decisions of the duly elected representatives of the people are the law of the land. And as the elected chief executive of Saxmere, it is my duty to enforce the laws and comply with the wishes of the people, as expressed by their elected representatives. Therefore, I am moving forward with the steps necessary to draft a new constitution and implement independence.”

The Governor frowned slightly. “However, independence will not be achieved by violence or force. Nor will independence be thwarted by intimidation and threats.

“While it is my duty to move forward towards independence, it is also my duty to protect the people of Saxmere and insure a peaceful transition.

“President Caine has offered to come to Saxmere and open negotiations. I believe that this is a sincere and honourable offer; one that we are obliged to accept. Therefore, I guarantee President Caine’s security while in Saxmere. And, while it is not a precondition to discussions, I do call on the President, as a gesture of good will, to lift the embargo on airspace around Saxmere so that goods and people may again cross the border.

“Good night. And God bless Saxmere.”

The Offices of Liberty House Publishing

“A more limited agreement would be acceptable, Mr. Cousin,” Howe smiled as he swung around in his chair. “If you can’t give us preferential treatment over your own publications – quite understandable, actually – how about prominent display. At least for our feature titles. That and worldwide distribution in return for a preferential price on our publications, including magazines and papers, for your stores in the Confederation. What do you say?”

Outside Araceli's Apartment in Jefferson

Elza Uzija was the first to arrive. She waved excitedly when she saw Araceli. Elza was young – only a second year university student – but she was enthusiastic and committed. She flicked her short, platinum blonde hair and dropped her backpack next to Araceli. “Good morning, Araceli. Ready for a road trip? I was so excited, I could hardly sleep!”

Elza seemed to look over Araceli’s shoulder and waved. Janice Grant, a short, skinny woman in her thirties, was the opposite of Elza in many ways; quiet, bookish and slightly shy. Yet, she had poured herself into the Danaan scriptures and was one of the most knowledgeable new converts.

“Hi, Elza, Araceli,” Janice said, carefully laying down her two small suitcases. “Have you seen Luke or Thomas yet?”

Elza shook her head just as a truck rounded the corner. It was a big pick-up, with four doors and a covered bed. The logo of a print shop adorned the front doors. The truck slowed and stopped in front of the three women. The passenger door opened and Luke stepped out. “Good morning, ladies,” he said smiling. “Thomas is ready to go.” Luke grabbed the closest bag and walked to the back of the truck, where Thomas already had the tailgate open. “Let me help you with your bags and get you on your way.”

After the bags were loaded, Luke said good-bye to each of the women. He pushed a mobile phone into Araceli’s hands. “Keep in touch. And be careful.”

The Week On-Line
A Division of Liberty House Multimedia

Top News

Saxmere Crisis

Gov. Peller Agrees to Talks; "No Preconditions," But Asks President to Lift Blockade of Saxmere
Would-be Grand Duke Received as a King in Pantocratoria

Diplomatic Rows Continue

Resurgent Dream Refuses Recognition
Lavenrunz Offers Mediation

Tensions in Excalbia

The Madness of Emperor David?
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v209/ILCLBT/David4.jpg
Former Spy Chief Opposses Emperor and His Hostility Towards Knootoss and President Caine
Emperor in Seclusion
New Presiding Bishop Calls for Peace in Saxmere

Economic News

More Rumours of New Book Super Chain
Knootoss, The Game is a Bestseller
New Religion - Danaan Cult - Starting to Rake in the Money

Lacau nodded to both ambassadors. "I am not going to recognize Saxmere at the present time. However, I am making no promise never to recognize the independence of Saxmere. The Danaan High Kingdom will not act against the interests of her Knootian or her Excalbian allies. We remain loyal to all of our friends even when they make competing claims. We will offer our full assistance in helping your two nations reach an amicable and mutually agreeable solution and we urge you both to leave the internal affairs of Sovereign States to Sovereign States."

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam nodded with an air of resignation. "Thank you, your Excellency." The Ambassador forced a slight smile. "I cannot say that I am happy with your decision, but I certainly understand your reasoning and appreciate the deliberative way in which you have arrived at it." He nodded graciously. "I also thank you for keeping an open mind on possible future recognition of Saxmere's independence."

The Excalbian turned to the Knootian. "As for your offer of assistance in reaching an amicable solution to our problems, I welcome your input. And, as for your recommendation that we leave this as an internal affair from the Confederation and Saxmere to resolve on their own, I believe that my government's position is quite clear - if Knootoss - and its invisible hand - would leave the situation alone, Excalbia would be happy to do likewise."

Tarana. The Resurgent Dream

Lacau nodded. "To be honest, this is confusing me a little. Both of you insist that you are willing to leave the situation to the Confederates if the other does likewise. Why, then, do you not have a basis for agreeing to do so?" he sat back down, realizing he'd just started the conversation back up.

Jefferson City, CSS

Araceli grinned. "I'm always ready to spread the word, Elza. Maybe you can catch some sleep on the ride, though. You should be well rested for this."

Araceli shook her head to Janice. "Not yet." Then she smiled to see them arrive at that very moment. She grinned as she watched Luke. "It's good to see chivalry is alive and well in Jefferson City."

On the Phone

Cousin nodded, not that Howe could see it. "That sounds like a deal. I'll have my lawyers call your lawyers and get something on paper, then?"

Tarana. The Resurgent Dream

Lacau nodded. "To be honest, this is confusing me a little. Both of you insist that you are willing to leave the situation to the Confederates if the other does likewise. Why, then, do you not have a basis for agreeing to do so?" he sat back down, realizing he'd just started the conversation back up.

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam looked at the Prime Minister with a wry smile and turned to the Knootian ambassador. "Part of the problem, I believe, your Excellency, is that Knootoss denies any official connects with the Order of the Invisible Hand and denies that either is interfering in Confederation and Saxmerean politics. It makes it hard for us to accept their verbal assurances that we cease their interference when they deny interfering in ther first place."

Hofburg, Lavenrunz
Aurora von Konigsmark smiled and replied, "I have excellent news regarding that. Pending your being so agreeable as at present, Chancellor Schlabel will be heading our delegation, to give a sense of its importance." she glanced at her wall clock and said, "Excuse me, I have another important meeting coming up very soon, but I think that your agenda is fine, Lady Allison. Furthermore I can assure you that Chancellor Schlabel's intentions will be to establish an amiable agreement which serves the interests as much as possible of all concerned."


Hofburg Daily News

In the recent and looming conflict in the North Atlantic, there has emerged a possible voice of calm--that of our own Chancellor, General Hans Schlabel, who has offered to bear the laurel as opposed to the sword in the service of humanity this time. Schlabel, who coordinated air efforts in the heroic allied effort to expel Reich forces from Ienotheisa, and who represented Lavenrunz at numerous international conferences, is no stranger to the diplomatic scene, and will hopefully restore Lavenrunz to the reputation that was tarnished by the traitor Mirbach...

Tarana, Resurgent Dream

Una raised her eyebrows, ushering the Duchess into her own chambers, which were lined with Lavenrunzian oak, and had neat bookshelves, a fireplace, and pictures of her family with the family leopard and so on. She nodded to her aide to close the door. "Please sit down, Duchess. And what information would that be?" she asked, sitting herself once her guest had done so.

Nianki allowed herself to be ushered into the ambassador's chambers. She looked around very briefly, appreciating the feel before she took a seat, crossing her thickly muscled legs. "If I were here to deliver information, I wouldn't have come personally. I wanted to talk"

Una spread her hands. "What would you like to talk about?" she asked.

Nianki smiled. "Well, first of all I'd like this conversation to be entirely off the record. I don't want my words to be considered official or binding on my government and I'll extend to you the same courtesy."

Assuming Una agrees to that, Nianki continued. "I'm going to tell you what my royal niece won't say, what the Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister can't say, and what our diplomats aren't allowed to say. Namely, many Danaans, including myself...find a certain tension between our own sentiments about the events in the North Atlantic and our bonds with Knootoss and I'm here because I thought it might be a tension that Lavenrunzians share to a certain extent. To be precise, the sentiment of the Danaan people is hardly with the spread of radical secularism, which seems to be the intent of the Knootians in the North Atlantic."

http://www.abcnews.go.com/images/site/homepage/showbrand_default.gif
Austarian Broadcasting Corporation [ABC]: World News

ANATOBA CITY, AUSTAR UNION
Lord Indigo Blue, Speaking out on the Saxmere Crisis

Today in a public address, Lord Indigo Blue has finally made a declaration of his position on the crisis regarding the Excalbian Isles, in particularly the succession of the state of Saxmere from the Confederacy of Soveriegn States. It comes after an impossible amount of time whereby the Pantocratorian government, the Excalbian government, and the Knootian Government are all in disagreeance over the fate of the Soveriegn States and its succession of Saxmere. Surprisingly, Lord Blue was unafraid to contradict his long time VERITAS ally with the following statement.

"From every perspective I look upon the issue, time and time again I can only come to the conclusion that perhaps it is best if the state of Saxmere be allowed to succeed from the Confederacy. The people of that region has spoken in democratic reform, and I can only emplore the Knootians to realise the true essense of democracy in the matter. It is most obvious that it is the will of the people to indeed seperate from the Union, and why that is I can only speculate, however I respect their choice to do so. It is not in the interest of the government of Knootoss to become entangled with the internal affairs of another.

At the same time also, I can only emplore both Excalbian and Pantocratorian governments to step back from the issue and allow the internal workings of a nation continue. It is only when the problem is allowed its natural path that the issue is resolved and finally no longer a problem. Of course, should the Confederacy be found to be persecuting the citizens then it may be another matter entirely, but for now I see no reason why any foriegn intervention is required. This ought to be kept between the people of Saxmere and the Soveriegn States. In the meantime I will state that I do recognise the State of Saxmere as a clear and independant entity in the world, but I will not recognise its complete soveriegnty until six months after the conflict is allowed to settle, and the people there have been given the privilage or right of self-governing."

New Rome, Pantocratoria

As Baron James made his way through the palace to his audience with the Emperor, he noted that he was being shown to the His Imperial Majesty’s private office. While he did not fully realize how rare such audiences were, he did appreciate the significance of being shown to a monarch’s personal apartment rather than to his official offices.

“Your Majesty,” the would-be Grand Duke bowed deeply as he entered the private office.

After the Emperor finished speaking, James nodded, his brows knotting slightly. “Your thoughts on the subject mirror my own, your Majesty.” He stood at parade rest; his posture relaxed, yet straight. “I believe Sir Alec and Mr. Edelmann, with the kind support of your Foreign Minister, have already laid the groundwork for such a statement. I was thinking of calling a press conference at our new Embassy here – to make a direct address to the people of Saxmere. And for extra impact, I was planning to make sure the Confederation – and Knootian press are invited. Do you think it would be a problem to allow the Knootian press to attend, your Majesty? I am not sure what the impact of the embargo has been on their press.”

Baron James looked levelly at the Emperor. “In your opinion, your Majesty, do you believe that the Knootians are prepared to go war with Excalbia and possibly Pantocratoria to prevent Saxmerean succession? I look forward to returning to my ancestral homeland and accepting the crown as Grand Duke – I hope you will favor us with a visit on that day – but I do wish to keep a realistic assessment of the potential costs to my people. And my allies.”

"The Knootian press will attend, the boycott doesn't prevent their journalists from coming and going and misrepresenting things." the Emperor observed. "I would call that press conference at once, monsieur."

"It is my considered opinion that even if the Knootians had ever seen a spine in their lives, they still wouldn't go to war with Pantocratoria and Excalbia to prevent Saxmerean seccession." the Emperor added in his usual firm, self-confident tone. "They went crawling to VERITAS because they know that they are a second-rate military power in the Atlantic. VERITAS' support was hardly awe-inspiring. That wretched elf in the Hague would be over-estimating her ability to project force if she really thought Knootoss could win a war against us in our own sphere of influence. Even if Knootoss' fleet could defeat the combined navies of Pantocratoria and Excalbia, there would be nothing Knootoss could do to save the Confederation from a land invasion launched from Excalbia. They know that force isn't an appropriate tool for them to use in this dispute, simply because they will be unable to use it effectively. No, this is a battle for the hearts and minds of your people, monsieur. While Saxmere supports us, our victory is assured - if we lose the support of the Saxmerean people and their parliament, then we shall be defeated."

The Emperor let his advice sink in.

"I hope Your Highness understands the importance of this press conference, then. It is worth a dozen battleships in this conflict."

Nianki smiled. "Well, first of all I'd like this conversation to be entirely off the record. I don't want my words to be considered official or binding on my government and I'll extend to you the same courtesy."

Assuming Una agrees to that, Nianki continued. "I'm going to tell you what my royal niece won't say, what the Prime Minister and the Foreign Minister can't say, and what our diplomats aren't allowed to say. Namely, many Danaans, including myself...find a certain tension between our own sentiments about the events in the North Atlantic and our bonds with Knootoss and I'm here because I thought it might be a tension that Lavenrunzians share to a certain extent. To be precise, the sentiment of the Danaan people is hardly with the spread of radical secularism, which seems to be the intent of the Knootians in the North Atlantic."

Una steepled her fingers and for a moment breathed in the scents of tea, of the warm smell of the fireplace and the calm of her office. Then she said quietly, "The Knootian government claims that there is no agenda of the kind you are talking about, and in the face of fairly direct accusations. What are you basing this on, Highness?"

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

“Well, your Excellency, it would not if this were the case. Yet for some reason my government finds this notion of neutrality of Excalbia in this matter quite hollow with half of its navy deployed in blockade of the Confederation and with open diplomatic, intelligence and logistical support for one side in this domestic conflict.

As for all this religious talk, well, we have nothing to do with it and my government feels it to be an unjust response against the D.D.R. and the Confederacy.”

A secluded office, Cape Liberty
The Excalbian intelligence exposé in Tarana had made quite a few alarm bells ring with the high officials of the Knootian intelligence agencies. With new EIVD agents being inserted, the AIVD had stepped up its security levels drastically. Caine’s chief of staff, Kraukalis, could now legitimately claim to have the same amount of security as Prime Minister nos Círdan herself as he was invited for another meeting with his Knootian liaison. An office block in a small town near Cape Liberty had been rented off anonymously and meticulously scanned and scanned again for bugs and other technical means of espionage. What the office lacked in cosyness it made up for in pure impenetrability, as armed men patrolled inside.

“Let them meet”, the Knootian AIVD liaison ranted after they had briefly discussed the situation as it had developed. “But if I may suggest something, do not open up your airspace. It is a security matter, after all, and the reasons for closing it have not gone away. Suggest instead that the Excalbian navy has to stop its blockade of the Confederation before we can stop our blockade – but make no firm promises. If Peller wants to bargain he’ll have to pull his strings in Excalbia first.”

“Also I think we should frame the Pantocratorian reception in the right picture. We’ll poll the thoughts of Confederate people first though – but I have a feeling that many in the Confederacy will resent the Royal treatment this stooge gets over there.”

OOC: playing the same economic game in the Saxmere matter as with the elections. Assuming Order cooperation, tell me if its otherwise SS ;)

Corporations threaten to leave Saxmere

CAMBERA – A number of large and medium-sized businesses, representing billions in new investment and thousands of jobs are threatening to leave Saxmere if the secession crisis lasts, a survey revealed. Most of these business are thinking of either moving to other states in the Confederation or moving off the Excalbian Isles entirely. The sizable group includes Knootian corporations that feel threatened, but also local businesses that think a new independent Saxmere will severely hurt their business opportunities

As reasons, business leaders stated that an independent Saxmere will be harmful to their own businesses, pointing out that the economy in the rest of the CSS is booming, whilst uncertainty reigns for a future independent Saxmere which would likely have poor relations with the Confederation while being entirely surrounded by it. As one business leader put it in an anonymous response: “The market for just Saxmere is just a lot smaller. I used to be able to sell my products in the entire C.S.S., but a new state means new barriers. Right now, with airspace closed, most of my export business is out entirely and I am not sure if the situation will get better after independence. I will be moving to New Virginia if things stay as bad.”

The list of companies threatening to leave includes virtually all Knootian businesses which had been setting up shop since the start of the Caine administration. The local Knootian Investors Association stated the “threat of extending the boycott on Knootoss that Excalbia has, and the risk that a ‘free’ Saxmere will become politically dependent on the whims of the Pantocratorian aristocracy” as reasons of concern for many of its members but it denied that a massive pullout would inevitably follow. “We have bonded with the people of Saxmere and a lot of the business we have now is profitable. Our members would only pull out if there really was no other option. Unfortunately, things are looking pretty grim now.”

Another group of business owners stressed that they did not want to pick sides in a political struggle, but hoped that the people of Saxmere would see that a rash secession could plunge the state into economic hardship.

Lavenrunzian Military Information Gazette: Naval Updates

We are proud to designate RM Alfkonur as the first of the upgraded line of Lundgren Class destroyers, which will feature the Aegis system for anti aircraft operations. Her first mission will be an historic one in more ways than one as she escorts our diplomatic mission to the North Atlantic.
Carrying the Mjolnir and Garm missiles for anti ship and anti air purposes, one five inch and one 3 inch gun, anti submarine rockets and torpedos as well as autocannon for close defense, she is one of the heaviest armed ships in the fleet below the grade of cruiser. Her air complement has been expanded to two Seekonig helicopters. Traditionally, Lavenrunz also carries a complement of Imperial Marines, who act as gunner's mates and are ready for away missions. The officers, warrants and sailors and marines of this ship were selected after an exhaustive grooming process, making her also one of the best crewed ships in the fleet. All are ready to serve the Empress to the best of their ability in the best traditions of the senior service.

Admiral Carlotta de Goethe
Minister of War


Zwoll, Lavenrunz

"Definitely the rainy season." commented Captain von Greim as he looked out at the water streaked lexan glass of the bridge. The senior watch officer, Lieutenant Dornburg, smiled, glancing at him. She was a short fair haired young woman who was on the cute side of chubby and fought what might have been a tendency to be dismissed with a very energetic and efficient manner.
"It's worse inland. They say that there may be flooding around Hofburg." she answered. "It's funny, you know, Excellency, but I've never been to Hofburg."
Von Greim was faintly amused, and acknowledged this with a smile, but he directed things back to the ship's business. "And how," he asked, standing close enough that the Warrants and Ordinary Sailors nearby could not hear, "Are your watch working out?"
"Just fine, Excellency. People are being alert, no one slouching off. Everyone's just a bit tired from all the exercises but a bit of port routine will get them back at full energy, I'm sure." she answered. Of course there were little things, but she planned to take them up with the XO rather than bother the Captain with them. Below, they could see a squad of Marines jogging around the bow decks, and part of the watch crew looking through the big eye at something moving through the distant fog. A pair of sailors were checking the rigging on the waterproof cover of one of the autocannon batteries.
"Very well. Carry on. I'll be in the Command and Information Center." Captain von Greim said, nodding as she came to attention, clicking her heels.

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

Schlabel watched from his car as people scurried through the rain, huddled under umbrellas or hunched under coats and hats. He shook his head. "This is the worst we've had in years. Will there be flooding, do you think?"
Baron Shein shrugged, coughed unpleasantly and lit a cigarette. "Do you remember back in '85, when people actually had to be evacuated from parts of the interior? All this modernization has leveled too much ground, made too many avenues for possible floods. And not enough money to public works," he added a bit maliciously.
Schlabel, who had recently received an ovation from the Volksraad for his budget cuts and economies, snorted derisively. "So there are a few floods and a few people have to leave their homes temporarily. Or are you thinking of becoming a Populist?"
"Hardly. You wanted information, Chancellor, on the situation in the North Atlantic. Well, Excalbia has become increasingly aggressive in its language. Their fleet mobilizations are about complete. But of course I'm sure you know all that. The real question is: what will the Sovereign States do now? And as to that, I have instructed the Imperial Rocket Corps to direct GUDA satellite surveillance over the North Atlantic. Furthermore I have sent several operatives to Sovereign States and to Saxmere as well as Excalbia to get a better feel for what is going on."
Chancellor Schlabel nodded and lit up a cigar to remove the unpleasant bitter smell of Shein's nasty cigarettes.

http://www.minaz.nl/ministerie/non_vr/fotos/6_tre.jpg

Council of Ministers
The Hague, Knootoss

“If the new quotas for the hospitals are settled at six million people, I suggest we move on to the foreign policy agenda”, Galadriël suggested. A collective breath went through the Trêveszaal and there was silence for a moment as Hans van Mierlo calmly rearranged his stack of papers.

The time until election day was now counted in weeks, and the domestic policy agenda had been reduced to a game of ramming laws through parliament as quickly as possible. Every minister – especially the RCPK ministers – felt the hot breath of the green polling numbers in their neck and this managed to suppress the usual mood of relaxed conversation that had become the norm of almost eight years of more or less the same people meeting in the same room at the same time talking about the same issues. The single exception to this was what Galadriël so coolly termed ‘the foreign policy agenda.’

As the red light of his microphone went on, the minister of Foreign Affairs and Defence began to read from a piece of paper in his hand. “To begin with standing matters, the Tanah Burung negotiations have been taken on by the Prime Minister and her initiative for negotiations in the C’tan. The Foreign Ministry is talking with the Alconans also on their possible involvement as a third party peacekeeper in anticipation of a deal. Initial responses by the Alconans has been positive and I have accepted an offer by their ambassador. Their involvement has been classified a class II security matter and with all due permission from the Council of Ministers we will temporarily restrict all discussion of the Tanah Burung negotiations to the Prime Minister and myself. We have also agreed to put several units on alert for rapid dispatching to the region. The incurred cost…”

“But…”, Brinkhorst – the minister of Economic Affairs - looked worried as he interrupted, “The EIVD has its own operations in Tanah Burung. Restricting discussion to the Office of the PM and the Foreign Ministry would mean that only the AIVD and MIVD get this classified information. Surely all of your intelligence agencies should be aware of important developments."

Galadriël glanced at her senior minister and closest ally in the cabinet. “I do apologise but this classification does not allow for the official involvement beyond the offices you mentioned.” Official was the key word in her statement, and this appeared to satisfy the aging minister sufficiently.

“Does anyone object to the classification of the Tanah Burung negotiations to Mr. van Mierlo and me?”, Galadriël now asked out loud. There was silence, with some of the ministers nodding.

“Well,” the minister of Foreign Affairs and Defence continued his report, “then there is the matter of Saxmere. First of all, I would like to make it patently clear that we all agree this situation must be de-escalated. The Lavenrunzian offer is being investigated, but I feel that diplomatic courtesy alone will now allow us to refuse this venture.

Meanwhile, we have offered full assistance to President Caine and assured them that we will fulfil treaty obligations. Our intelligence in the region has been beefed up considering the recent Excalbian exposure. That is why our navy is now moving as I explained to you in our last briefing.”

“How about our projection of military power? Is our profile sufficient to match our words?” the State-Secretary of Foreign Economic Policy asked. “The Excalbians have a formidable navy, and the Pantocratorians could move with them together against us. Where are our allies, damnit!”

“The meeting with VERITAS was… partially successful”, the minister said tentatively. “It wielded some statements of support, which is the best we can do at the moment. New York and Zvarinogradi support are fairly important, I would say, given their strategic locations near the Atlantic. And then there is the support we’ve been getting outside of VERITAS. The Midlonians, the Thelasi have been rather supportive as well. As a precautionary measure the Prime Minister and I have ordered the mobilisation of most active elements of the KDF at home. We have also agreed to keep KNN out of this.” He glanced briefly at the elf at the head of the table, and the others could sense that this had been a point of disagreement prior to the meeting.

“We have some things on our side”; Galadriël continued. “Intelligence suggests that the Pantocratorians have not mobilised anything. They are arrogant enough to presume that we pose no threat to them. They are forgetting that the Atlantic is also our turf and we have beaten them before.”

Some of the SLP ministers frowned with concern, something Galadriël seemed to pick up immediately.

“I also intend to visit the Vatican and speak with the Pope. The Vatican has not yet responded but I’ll keep you apprised.” – the SLP minister of Domestic Affairs bowed towards his colleague of Education to whisper something, but the elf took no notice of it.

“The Minister mentioned the Syskeyians a bit earlier”, Galadriël said instead, almost spitting out the word, “Syskeyian recognition of Saxmere is a pointless gesture of a doomed government, but it is still a bothersome one. And while we cannot break our word I would recommend that we not to extend the arrangement for allowing volunteers to help in the Syskeyian conflict. If both parties can agree to this.”

“This will of course be a matter for after the election”, van Mierlo said tentatively. “Bbut I have been told that this can get support extending beyond the current government. I don’t think we are vengeful when it is patently clear that the Syskeyians do not want to be our friends.”

“To be frank, I fail to see why we should treat them as friends in the first place”, Galadriël interjected. “They are a barbaric theocracy and they destroyed the South Atlantic Treaty Organisation."

“How about the Midlonians?”, the State Secretary asked - eager to change the subject. “They seem to have been more than helpful even without a treaty.”

“I have composed a letter to thank them,” the minister answered. “And I will recommend to my successor that we arrange a strong upgrade in economic and diplomatic ties, they deserve it after being loyal several times now. A bilateral treaty would be very much in order.”

Galadriël nodded. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, my flight to the C’tan is leaving momentarily so if there is no other business I would like to wrap this up. If there is no other business to handle I would like to close this meeting. Be strong.”

Lacau shrugged. "I don't think the Excalbians claimed to be neutral. Knootoss is also hardly a neutral nation."
...
Nianki settled back slightly in her chair. "I would very much like to speak to you frankly and off the record, Madame Ambassador. If that is not possible, please simply say so."

Cabinet meeting
"I do not see why not", Cornelissen answered, "We have only called for other nations to keep out and are fulfulling our treaty obligations towards the Confederation. We certainly have our opinions but we have hardly been forcing them on others."

Lacau shook his head. "That is not the definition of neutrality."

http://www.abcnews.go.com/images/site/homepage/showbrand_default.gif
Austarian Broadcasting Corporation [ABC]: World News

UMBRA, SAXMERE
Corporations Seize Opportunity for Saxmere!

With the situation continuing throughout the endless nights, it appears that the incident which is becoming well known as the 'Saxmere Crisis' wont be ending any time soon. With no sides showing any willing to buckle to the will to the other, Knootian corporations have joined the fight by threatening both the government and people of Saxmere that if they do not make moves to amend their relationship with the Confederation of Soveriegn States, that they will be shipping out of the country due to problematic reasons. Speculation mounts however toward the companies who make such claims and threats of withdrawal, since not often before have these corporations shown any sign of withdrawing from other dangerous zones around the globe.

With not one person willing to point the finger of accusation toward the Knootians, there is a growing attitude that the corporations in question have links to the government of both Knootoss and the Soveriegn States, and that these said corporations are merely puppets of their respective governments in an effort to bring an end to the conflict, which would be regarded as the assumilation of Saxmere back into the Confederation. In the meantime, internationally known corporations of the Austar Union have promised the government of Saxmere that they will move into the nation, so long as they are willing to work alongside the directors of said companies, to build the succeeded state's economy there. It has been said that the buying and expansion capacity of these companies match those nessasary to keep the Samerian economy relitavely stable, should the Knootians and a variety of others withdraw. Possible expansion into the rest of the Excalbian Isles have also been considered.

Somewhere between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans

Two modified MD-11s, in full Syskeyian livery and under F-22 escort, made their way from their native republic towards the central Atlantic.

One carried seasoned diplomat Stephen Trieu, a seasoned diplomat, and his staff to Citadel Excalbia, while the other ferried Bonaventure Maryadi, another veteran of foreign affairs, and his assistance to New Rome.

The planes’ destinations made clear their passengers’ roles: Trieu was the recently appointed ambassador to Excalbia, and Maryadi the ambassador to Saxmere.

While on the way, Trieu took a small piece of paper out of his pocket. He broke open the small Consular seal, opened the paper, and read the text inside.

He then took a drink of soda, devouring the paper with his beverage.

OOC: Not to be a nitpicker, but the C.S.S. shutting down of Saxmere airspace actually pretty much does block economic traffic and as borders have been shut down as well to prevent people from moving out, the conspiracy story does not really hold. Also, not just Knootian companies are moving out. Might want to consider editing, well, the entire post. It would also appear you have your companies on a better leash then I have. :)

OOC: Bah, there isnt really any reason to edit really save for a few minor details. I wouldnt know though how you could possibly claim that our companies are on a better leash than yours, since its all about competition. In economic terms, there is only competition. :P

In orbital space, GUDA Satellite K-6 was adjusted via commands at the Imperial Space Agency Center in Astra, Lavenrunz, and was sent to observe and listen over the North Atlantic, particularly focusing on the blockade of Saxmere and the actions of the Excalbian and Knootian forces there.

((*Pokes Jo up to post to her*))

Una sighed inwardly. Sidhe. Elves. "Off the record? I am not a journalist, Duchess, nor am I, forgive me for saying so, a personal friend. I am a servant of my Government and my Empress. Lavenrunz and Knootoss have had our disagreements in the past, one of them recently both embarassing and highly dangerous. The current policey is to avoid any adventurism in government, and frankly, wild speculation leads to such things. So if I appear cautious it is because I am doing my duty." she looked directly into the august woman's eyes and said, "Forgive me, but you are not merely speaking to a private person. If you believe my country to be well intentioned, that is the best that I can do under these circumstances. Do you understand this?"

Nianki met her gaze calmly, managing to hold in her own private opinion. She even managed not to express how she felt about the terms by which the woman continued to address her, despite the professed formality of her attitude. "I understand perfectly, ambassador. I simply..." Nianki paused, deciding not to say whatever she had been about to say. "Thank you for seeing me." She stood, moving to leave.
...
Lacau moved to stand again. "Very well then. I think we've settled all we're going to settle here tonight. I do remind you that we are at the service of both your nations as far as solving this crisis is concerned.
...
The next day, the same day as Araceli's trip far away in Sovereign States, the Knootian, C'tani, Federal Republican, Austarian, Lavenrunzian, Menelmacari, Pantocratorian, Excalbian, Syskeyian, and Scolopendran ambassadors were invited to the royal court. The invitation of ambassadors to the daily court sessions was fairly common and any ambassadors appointed more than a week ago had probably already been at least once. Still, it was likely to be more interesting this time, given who was invited and what was going on.

Princess Marie, Pantocratoria's ambassador to the Danaan High Kingdom, arrived at the royal court as summoned. She nervously awaited to be admitted into Agwene's presence, glancing at the sidhe ladies of the court in their unrestrictive, flowing gossamer gowns a little enviously as she did so. The corset of her Pantocratorian-style formal gown seemed even more cruel by comparison to such comfortable looking clothes. But in reality, she was merely trying to distract herself from the fact that she was still quite jittery about her appointment as ambassador to the Resurgent Dream. She wanted to do a good job of it, and believed that she was more than capable of doing so - but she knew it would take longer than the short time she had been there to grow into the role. With the current crisis in the Atlantic, it seemed to her that she didn't have much time to grow into anything...

Ambassador Peter L. Montescu of the Austar Union wasnt too far after Princess Marie of Pantocratoria. As the official nation's ambassador to the VERITAS alliance, it was only fitting since many of the people here were representing entities which were signatories of that treaty. Still, he at least wanted it to be known that in this matter he would not be representing his interests in VERITAS as such, but rather interests of the Absolutionist State of the Austar Union. This was an entirely different matter afterall, to the atlantic alert the Knootians had foolishly raised. Still, they had managed to rally some support to their cause. Good for them. In the meantime, he noticed the Princess standing by herself in the court. It wasnt exactly in sitting just yet, so it made enough time for idle chit-chat. He smiled upon arrival.

"Greetings Princess," boomed Montescu. "In case you do not know me, I am Ambassador Peter L. Montescu from the Austar Union. You may or may not have heard from us, nor our interests in the Saxmere crisis."

"Of course I have heard of the Austar Union, Your Excellency." Princess Marie said, curtseying to the Ambassador. "Have you been summoned here as well? I suspect we'll be talking about the very same crisis you just mentioned, monsieur."

"I believe so Ma Madame," responded Montescu, brassing off his fluency in the French language. Well knowing that Pantocratoria was a nation with such a large influence from that culture, he decided to simply speak in her own native tongue. "Je trop am bien averti de la position de Pantocratorian sur la matière, et je dirai au moins que je soutiens vos motifs. Toujours, Je juge vrai dans la position de Indigo qui naturellement est son propre. Plus sympathique au vôtre, tout en gardant notre sens d'individualité. Nous avons aussi un amour pour soveriegnty, et soutenez les personnes de Saxmere dans celui qu'elles choisissent."

Translated Using WorldLingo.com: "I too am well aware of the Pantocratorian position on the matter, and I will at least say that I support your motives. Still, I hold true to the position of Indigo which of course is his own. More sympathetic to yours, whilst keeping our sense of individuality. We too have a love for soveriegnty, and support the people of Saxmere in whatever they choose."

OOC: I appreciate the effort AU, but... automated translation is just... ugh :) Just say it in English for your own sanity :)

IC:

"Ils ont déjà choisi, monsieur.*" Marie replied, before continuing on in French, smiling sweetly. "I must confess that this will be my first real diplomatic meeting... I'm a little nervous, just between you and I, monsieur. My appointent to Tarana is the first time I've even been away from my parents for more than a day in my life..."

She was a little nervous, but her seemingly naïve statement was really motivated by a desire to put the Austarian ambassador at ease with her, to mistake her for being less competent than in fact she was. She hoped that if not much was expected from her, she couldn't disappoint.

"...but I've forgotten myself, pardon me, monsieur!" she demured self-consciously.

* They have already chosen, sir.

Una von Festeburg arrived wearing a gown in the Menelmacari fashion that flowed at the sleeves, her hair dressed loosely and wearing only the most delicate and austere of jewellry. Because of her attire she wore her chain of office bearing the rampant crowned leopard as well. Accompanying her were her military attache, Commander Vorenkamp, and her bodyguards who remained with the vehicles outside the Palace. She was still puzzled and faintly annoyed by the Marshal's cryptic manner of the day before, but she was also aware of the need to tread carefully...

Una would recognize Grand Duchess Nianki standing near the throne. She might or might not recognize the woman standing beside her as Grand Duchess Corrina. Other dignitaries who the ambassadors might or might not recognize included General Arthur Wildavsky, an elderly human man from the Air Force; General of the Army Jimmy Clinton, another elderly human man; Prime Minister Lacau himself; Fleet Admiral George Walters, another example of the largely human military leadership; Duke Amondrond ap Gwydion, sidhe leader of the Traditionalist Party; Xavlannan Stoneheart, the trollish head of the Tarana police department; Austin Bowden, the Prime Minister's chief of staff; Lady Magatris ni Gwydion; General Wilhand ap Gwydion, a towering troll in the uniform of the Royal Guard; Grand Duchess Beatrice ni Balor of Garmar; Duke Abraham ap Ailil, an influential human nobleman in the local area; and lastly Fleet Admiral Abraham ap Gwydion, another human; Lady Juliet ni Gwydion, the former Prime Minister; and lastly High Priestess Helga Mountainsoul. Everyone was dressed in court finery, the officers in dress uniforms, the clerics in their robes, the others in courtly clothing of silk or gossamer. Her Majesty was not yet there.

A uniformed protocol officer went to any of the ambassadors who had not been invited to court before, answering any questions they might have about protocol or about what to expect.

Though it was indeed his first time at the Danaan court, Adish Frost, the young ambassador from the Necrontyr Empire, seemed entirely self-confident. It was perhaps becuase he had every confidence that this situation was largely irrelevant to his nation. However, the ongoing farce in the CSS was continuously pecking at the business of diplomats.

He took a look around and saw a woman in a particularly painful looking corset - rather unlike his own comfortable and slightly unsual dark green double breasted suit. From this and the addition of the somewhat less uncomfortable way her dark brown hair was pulled up, he could only summise that she was the Pantocratorian ambassador, Princess Marie Capet.

She was actually very attractive in his opinion. He started trying to remember the appropriate protocol for dealing with Pantocratorians. To his memory, the form of address was 'Your Imperial Highness.' He decided to walk over and speak with her later.

You're right actually Panto, I have had similar experiences with machine translation. Still so long as I put the proper translation below, I suppose that should be okay, no? Meh, doesnt really matter to be honest. Obviously her prefered diplomatic language is English.

Montescu nodded with respect. She was such a powerful woman in her own retrospects, yet she was willing to admit that she was indeed nervous, and the truth behind her kind face. Still, it only gained respect from him, and he decided it best if perhaps he stick by her. Or at least he could offer, nothing bad could come from that. Never once had something come bad from a simple offer of peace. Least, not so far! Anyhow, he was an older man. It was probably his duty more than anything, yet in his heart it was his wish to watch over the smaller and less fortunate. The Princess was most certainly neither, but perhaps her inexperience deserved to be cared for.

"I understand how you feel," replied Montescu smiling delicately, "I for one remember the first time I travelled overseas a few years ago. I was a nervous wreck, so as you can see I am quite surprised to be honest. You do appear to be rather calm and collective."

Montescu took a moment to breathe before making his offer, "If you like Ma Madame, you can stick by me in this meeting. I suppose it could only give some comfort to the butterflies in your stomach. Figure of speech of course."

"Thank you, monsieur!" Marie smiled. "I'm glad that my experience isn't unique."

She decided to slink back and stay out of the way for the time being, watching as the other ambassadors mingled, observing. She fancied that she might better prepare herself through observing the more seasoned diplomats.

Adish stepped up to Marie with a smile, "'Her Imperial Highness Princess Marie of Pantocratoria' I assume?" he said, bowing a little, and introduced himself by his name, not presently using any title, "May I ask if you know what this will be about?" he said, still smiling, and nodding as he did - more of a habitual reflex showing his approval upon examining the foreign princess up close than anything else - "Though I actually suspect you may be as new to this post as myself."

"You assume correctly, monsieur...?" Marie nodded and smiled to the man. "I don't know whether it will be about anything, monsieur, whoever you are. I thought we had just been called to court... is there a meeting as well?"

She looked a little worried, but settled herself and smiled and allowed herself a bemused sigh.

"I suppose it is very obvious how new to this we both are!" she said.

Standing with the Princess at the time, Montescu turned toward this new addition to the conversation and smiled. From the information given to him on behalf of the foriegn ministry, this man would have to be Adish Frost, on representation of The C'tan. He had actually wondered what interest the C'tani had in these matters; much of it had been assumed linked to their offer toward Knootoss back in the Atlantic Alert they had raised. Still, much had not developed since then. This was the first kind of event which Montescu at least knew of. In the meantime, quite as he had been until now, he thought he may as well introduce himself to the young man.

"Good day sir," he greeted with kindness, "I am Peter Montescu on representation from the Austar Union. This event seems to appear rather... interesting. I wonder exactly what its purpose will become."

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam listened to the exchange between Prime Minister Lacau and Ambassador Cornelissen with a hint of a smile. Having recently been on the receiving a pointed exchange, the Excablian Ambassador was pleased to see his Knootian counterpart in a similar situation.

When the Prime Minister stood, Sir Adam rose to his feet and bowed. “Thank you, your Excellency. My government is grateful for your friendship and your willingness to listen to our position. I think your offer of assistance will be well received in my capital.”

* * *

The next day, Sir Adam arrived at royal court and quickly joined the other ambassadors. When he spotted Princess Marie, he bowed deeply, “Your Highness,” he said to the Pantocratorian Ambassador. “Ambassador Montescu,” he smiled at the Austar Union’s representative. He turned when he saw the Lavenrunzian Ambassador and gave her a polite nod of the head. “Ambassador von Festeburg.”

He approached one person whom he did not know, a young but confident looking person. “Good day,” he said, “I am Sir Adam Taurins, Ambassador of the Holy Empire of Excalbia to the Court of the Danaan High Kingdom.”

OOC: Sorry that I have so much catching up to do - my boss came to town last week and it took up a lot of time.

OOC: Excalbia, was Adam's last remark meant to be addressed to anyone specific or can I just pick a courtier?

(OOC: Sir Adam's comment was actually directed at Amb. Frost - described as young but confident looking. However, feel free to have any courtier greet him.)

Hofburg, Lavenrunz

“Thank you, Madame Minister,” Lady Allison said standing. “The Chancellor’s personal involvement in the mediation effort would be most welcome; we look forward to receiving him. We need only know the venue of the negotiations.”

The ambassador bowed. “As for the rest of our agenda, may we have our staffs work out the details and move forward with a trade agreement and military sales?”

OOC: IC post forthcoming. In the meantime, some random thoughts on the ideological issue from a distinctly Knootian perspective. I felt like ranting and read a peace in the RL Trouw (a progressive protestant paper, as opposed to the Knootian trouw) that inspired me to respond. Random In Character thoughts of the Knoot (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=8846051#post8846051)

OOC: He did introduce himself by name. Which would be ‘Adish de Vere-Frost.’ And position.

Adish nodded to Marie, “Yes indeed!” he said, “Let us hope we do not make any particularly awful mistakes. Though I must say, I can barely imagine someone as angelic as yourself being fallible,” he said this with a wry and playful tone that suggested he was not entirely serious, but he kept enough genuine sentiment in his words to sound like something more than social or false admiration.

He shook hands with Peter and nodded, “I am Aidsh Frost, Ambassador of the C’tan, as you probably just heard,” he said with another, less enamoured but still friendly smile, “and yes. Whatever this is, it will no doubt prove interesting. Not that interesting is necessarily desirable in international relations.”

OOC: She has his name but when I said Monsieur whoever you are, I meant that she would normally call him by his title eg "monsieur le prince". She wouldn't want to be impolite. (OK so I missed that sentence :/)

IC:

Marie smiled and bit her lower lip, delighted with the compliment. She twisted back and forth a little on the spot, but soon stopped that.

"You're very kind, monsieur!" Marie replied. "But you give me too much credit, I do make mistakes."

"At least... it has been known to happen." she added playfully, before turning to acknowledge the Excalbian ambassador. "Sir Adam."

Montescu chuckled and added, "Which it hardly is... interesting I mean. In the meantime, hopefully some kind of progress could be made today, that is if the gathering has been designed to do so. I have heard a few rumours of what this is meant to be so far."

In the meantime, he turned to the man who had just greeted him. Ah yes, it was the ambassador from Excalbia. He had been looking forward to meeting finally an Excalbian diplomat. Of course, he had probably imagined it would have been on personal terms, but still he now had quite the opportunity. Ever since just a few communicational letters had been sent between the two Admirals of the Atlantic Ocean, Indigo himself had taken interest in them and the Excalbian Isles in general. It was growing to be an interesting topic of agenda. He shook the man's hand.

"Ah welcome Sir Adam of Excalbia. It is good to meet you finally," greeted Montescu with a small smile upon his face.

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

Luke smiled at Araceli. “At least I’m doing my part to keep it alive,” he said, sounding brighter and more hopeful than he had been in recent days. “Now,” he pointed to the phone in Araceli’s hands, “keep in touch and let me know how things are going.”

Luke waited for Araceli to climb in the front seat next to Thomas, then closed the door. “Take care,” he said, waving as they drove off.

Once they were on their way, Thomas turned to Araceli. “Thanks for agreeing to come.” He looked into his rearview mirror and nodded to the women in the back seat. “Thanks to all of you.”

Thomas pointed the truck up the ramp to the A-6 expressway. “Well, our next stop is Cesis. It’ll be a ten-hour drive, pushing the speed limit. We’ll be going through the mountains,” he said to Araceli, “if you have a camera, you can get some great views. There are a couple of towns just before we go up into the high mountains and a couple more in the Gauja’s Keep Valley just across the border in Trondgard. We can make stops there, if we need to…”

Headquarters of Liberty Publishing House (A Division of Liberty Multimedia, A Division of CE)

“Excellent, Mr. Cousin. The sooner the better. Once the papers are ready, I’d like to invite you to come to the Confederation for a face-to-face meeting. Or, I’d be happy to come to the Resurgent Dream.”

Cape Liberty, Sovereign State of New Virginia

Krauklis nodded as he listened to AIVD liaison. “We’ll arrange for President Caine to travel to Saxmere tomorrow.”

The Chief of Staff smiled. “And we’ll get our response to Governor Peller’s request out today; I think we’ll put it exactly as you did – we’re happy to reopen Saxmere’s borders and airspace, but we simply can’t do it while the Confederation is under military threat from the Excalbian blockade.”

Krauklis’ smile widened. “That’ll put the burden back on them – and on the Excalbians!”

Krauklis made an odd face. “The polling is a good idea, but – frankly – I don’t know what the results will show. If it was only done in New Virginia, I’d be certain of the outcome, but if we include Southland and Deandra, not to mention Saxmere, then I’m less certain it’ll be as positive as we want it to be.”

Tags

Jefferson City

Araceli smiled at Luke. "I'll call you."

She then turned to Thomas. "That does sound lovely." She looked into the back seat to see how the other girls were doing.

Tarana

Court still hadn't started yet, but a couple of courtiers looked as Montescu and shook their heads a little. They had no idea what "meeting" he kept talking about.

On the Phone

"I'll come there as soon as they start working on the store, should be sometime this week. I'll see you then." After saying his goodbyes and hearing the other man's, he hung up.

The Secretariat of State had taken the (for them) rather extraordinary step of recalling (without prejudice, and purely temporarily,) their diplomatic representatives from Excalbia, Pantocratoria, Lavenrunz, and The Resurgent Dream. These gentlemen, together with the chief analyst from the North Atlantic desk, were meeting with the Sostituto (the President of the First—or General Affairs—Section,) Archbishop Tenda Nataka, and Archbishop Joseph Gopangi, the Secretary for Relations With States (Second Section.)

The purpose of the meeting was, technically, to lay out the situation, options, and suggestions for the Secretary of State, Cardinal Carlo Giovanni Angelini. But everyone in attendance knew that Nataka reported directly to the Papal Apartment, and no one had any illusions about who would really make the final decisions on the North Atlantic situation.

Still, the casual tenor of the meeting, and the absence of higher-ranking Curial types, conveyed a freedom, elbow room, if you will, to discuss whatever needed to be discussed, without worrying too much about the niceties of deference to authority. They’d all been supplied with coffee, and they were meeting, not in one of the formal Secretariat conference rooms, but in the Second Section’s resource library, a sunny (and slightly dusty) apartment on the third floor, with big windows and old chairs whose leather-covered seats, if slightly cracked, were deep and comfortable.

Gopangi and Archbishop Peter Tsarong, the Legate to Excalbia, were there first, followed in quick succession by Father Wils Niefto, the North Atlantic analyst, Nataka, Bishop Brendan Ainnle, the Delegate to The Resurgent Dream, and Jules, Cardinal Martin, the Nuncio to Pantocratoria. Archbishop Viktor Kronstein, the Legate to Lavenrunz, was the last to arrive. There were prayers first, and introductions, and some small talk over the initial cup of coffee. It was as though no one really wanted to take the plunge, but finally Gopangi smiled ruefully, and said, “Well, brothers, we are all here to discuss a common concern, are we not?”

There were gloomy and rueful looks, inarticulate noises, and grim silences. Gopangi looked at Nataka.

The Japanese Sostituto put his fingertips together and spoke softly, precisely. “You are all aware of the Church’s growing concern over the situation in the Excalbian Isles.” He nodded, politely, to Tsarong, who returned the nod with the slightest of bows, before continuing. “The Church has extremely amicable relations with many of the parties involved, but our policy has, up until now, remained one of non-involvement in the situation generally.”

He paused a moment, but no one made the mistake of thinking he was finished. “However, several factors have developed which would seem to indicate that a more—comprehensive—policy needs to be examined. The two most urgent being the declaration of independent status by Saxmere, an area historically associated with the Faith and still strongly Catholic today, and the deployment of armed force around the Isles and the consequent considerable heightening of risk that errors in judgment might lead to tragic results for all concerned.”

He looked around at those present. “Perhaps we could start by each of you providing an, ah, observation, as it were, on the situation from your own vantage points. This is entirely unofficial, at this stage, so please feel free to include your personal commentary.” He canted his head, and looked at Tsarong.

Archbishop Peter Tsarong, the Apostolic Legate to Excalbia, sighed. He was a slight Asian man, gentle but precise in manner. His work in Excalbia required him to get on well with the Established (Protestant) Church Bishops there, and maintain balanced, cordial relations while providing as much support to the local Catholic Church as possible. The Secretariat was pleased with his work thus far.

“As you know, the situation in Excalbia has many layers. We were all most devastated by the loss of Bishop Purins. A fine man and an excellent spiritual leader.” He hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “The rumor is very strong in Excalbia that the circumstances of his death were engineered—not to put it more strongly—by Handie operators. I’ve been unable to get anything concrete on that, although one of my local staff has indicated that the Saxmeri State law enforcement believed that Knootian operatives had infiltrated CSS internal security, which took over the matter immediately and more or less shut down any attempts at a more thorough investigation.”

“And in spite of the most vigorous representations from Chancellor Freedman, Excalbian criminal investigators were denied all access. That was, perhaps, the first really concrete sign that something was radically wrong in the CSS, although rumors had been circulating freely that Caine was a Handie puppet since the LLP convention.”

Archbishop Tsarong looked reflective. “The nature of the Caine government’s involvement with Knootian factions became clearer when the President’s first official action effectively abrogated the mutual defense pact that had bound the Isles nations together for so long. An action undertaken in spite (again) of diplomatic representations from Excalbia. Which,” he grimaced a little, “seemed a little less than vigorous to me. As though someone in the Imperial government had already more or less written off CSS altogether. Understandable, perhaps, but regrettable, nonetheless. In any case, the abandonment of the mutual defense treaty points to someone in the Caine government having already reached an agreement with Knootoss, and possibly other VERITAS powers, for military aid.”

“I do feel that the Imperial government showed admirable restraint in not permitting the Grand Duke to use Excalbia itself as a launching pad for his secessionist ambitions, but it is pretty clear that someone fairly high up facilitated the involvement of Pantocratoria, at that point. My guess is the Emperor. It seems clear that the military deployment was his initiative.” The Archbishop frowned, heavily. “And yet, he is not, generally, considered to be a bellicose or grandiose man in character. This would appear to be the response of anxiety, perhaps elevated beyond the level naturally warranted by the situation.”

He looked at Nataka, and seemed about to say something else for a moment, then shrugged, and nodded, to indicate that he was finished. The Sostituto looked at Cardinal Martin, that urbane, polished Frenchman, so diplomatic, so cautious. At least, when he was on assignment. Nataka, who knew him rather well, was not surprised, but there were definitely widened eyes and jerked heads when that suave Frenchman’s first words penetrated.

“And where else would you look for an antediluvian, monarchist enabler but the Pantocratorian Court, yes?” He shrugged, a very French shrug. “Please do not misunderstand, there are other factors in play, also. The well-established friendly relations between Pantocratoria and Excalbia, so much strengthened by the marriage of Princess Anna, good. The very proper concern on the part of both governments about the insidious cancer of the Handie influence, but yes.”

“However, the Pantocratorian Imperial Court’s insistence on living in the eleventh century makes them extraordinarily vulnerable to errors of judgment. Good, an opportunity to meddle in the destiny of some smaller nation, all in the name of the Church—Lord, deliver us,” (this offered with a pious upward glance,) “and with the additional bonus of being, as it were, big brother monarch to a client monarch who will then be indebted to the magnanimity of Andreus.”

“I do not say this is a conscious motivation, ah, no, in truth. Andreus and his ministers—well, most of them, not all—are experts at convincing themselves they have only the noblest of reasons to justify their actions, yes? So, when this Grand Duke in exile—and his Excalbian sponsors—” (here a quick glance at Tsarong,) “are looking for someone to lend this secessionist venture international legitimacy, well, where else would they go?”

“Eh, bien, Pantocratorian diplomacy is an unbelievable mixture of the primitive and the sophisticated. They operate in their own little reality, you see? The good Lord bless them, they are a wonderful people, and indeed devout children of Mother Church, but…” he trailed off, with another shrug. “It would be better if someone could convince them that it is no longer the time of the Crusades!” With which pungent observation, he threw up a hand, indicated he had finished.

Archbishop Kronstein, with a rather sour smile, nodded, and without waiting for a cue from Nataka, took over with his observation. “I think you would find many to agree with you in Lavenrunz, brother. Which has its own irony.” His tone was dry. “However, make no mistake, there is nothing naïve or chaotic about Lavenrunzian diplomacy. Their devotion to the Church is equaled only by their pragmatism.” He was not a man much given to superfluous smiles, Kronstein, but his lips twitched, at that.

“In any case, they perceive it in their interest to try and provide diplomatic facilitation to de-escalate the situation. In this, they are reasonably well-placed, having functional relationships with all parties and a good reputation as honest brokers, generally. However, I do think they underestimate the level to which Handie influence prevails, both in Knootoss and in the CSS, and also the effects of that influence in tacking those parties stubbornly to positions that benefit their self-interest. Under the guise of corporate interests in the ‘larger interests of the State,’ of course,” he added sardonically.

He canted his head slightly, narrowing very keen blue eyes. “How deep the Lavenrunzian commitment is to what may be a very extended and difficult negotiation process, with deeply entrenched positions on either side, is difficult to say. As to their stance on the issue of Saxmerian independence, that too remains a matter for negotiation. I believe they see their own interests in first, preventing destructive regional armed conflict, second, bolstering their own influence among the parties concerned, and third, promoting an outcome consistent with the spiritual and physical well-being of the people in the CSS and Saxmere. In that order, precisely.” He delivered this summary with dispassionate clarity, and finished with a small, decisive nod.

The faces present turned to Bishop Ainnle, a frail-looking man whose thin fringe of white hair and deeply-scored face belied his relatively young age of 56. He chuckled. “I do believe that the Danaan Kingdom are a bit flummoxed by how thoroughly they’ve become enmeshed in the whole situation. I don’t think it was ever their intent to become so, honestly. But they are a regional power, and have had good relations with the Excalbian Isles powers as well as treaty obligations to Knootoss. When Knootoss called upon its allies, they found themselves in something of a quandary, and in trying to work their way out, have only managed to get pulled deeper in.”

“They are making a conscientious effort to broker some kind of peaceful settlement. They’ve made some overtures to Lavenrunz to engage in joint sponsorship of negotiations, but the Lavenrunzians…” the Bishop shrugged, and looked apologetically at Kronstein, who nodded.

“They like to go it alone, yes. They have some justification, they’ve had cause to regret joint efforts now and then, in the past. And too many cooks…” the Archbishop shrugged, and nodded for Ainnle to continue.

“Yes, well, there’s not much more than that, I think. They are well-intentioned, and they have a rather, ah… naïf diplomatic style that is surprisingly effective, at times. They are also trying to build up commercial interests in the CSS, no, I mistake… in Upper Virginia, I believe. But I doubt that they would be averse to seeing economic opportunities open up in the CSS. That put them, initially, I think, in somewhat more sympathy with Knootoss… but Knootoss is its own worst enemy in some respects. I think the Kingdom would just as soon get clear of such entanglements, now, if they can do so without provoking negative diplomatic or economic consequences.”

Nataka turned then to Father Niefto, a soft-spoken, fair man who looked considerably younger than his four and a half decades. However, none of the boyish looks or quiet speech undercut the weight of years of study and analysis of North Atlantic regional politics. He paused, as though marshalling his thoughts.

“Of key importance is the character of the CSS. In some respects, up until the last election, they were almost a model of state organization, insofar as the political self-determination of peoples, and the responsiveness of government to local needs. Oh, there were always economic fluctuations, and intra-state disagreements to work out—some states did better in terms of social success, some went the economic success route, but there was generally a medium that kept things from becoming too unbalanced. Unfortunately, as so often happens when the people are comfortable, complacency set in, and a disinclination for the citizenry to involve itself actively in the mechanics of self-determination, beyond party rallies and voting.”

“The bad news is, this made them easy prey for the Handie puppet regime. However, the good news is that once the undeniable downsides of the Handie program become apparent, their memory of a better status quo is clear enough, and their sense of entitlement to political self-determination is strong enough, that they will be likely to be able to mount an effective internal reaction. However, there is no guarantee that the outcome of that reaction would equal the pre-Handie status quo socially or politically, in terms of desirability. Indeed, there is a small risk that the turmoil could degenerate into a chronic instability. I am, however, inclined to take that risk, if the situation can be kept from further destabilization or military involvement, and if the Excalbians and Pantocratorians can be persuaded not to exacerbate or enflame national enmity.”

“But there is no guarantee how long that process could take and how much damage could be done in the mean time. And certainly no guarantee that the Excalbians and Pantocratorians will be amenable to what will look to them like a very unsatisfactory solution. Also, there is the Saxmere issue to resolve. While we can only applaud and support the determination of the local Church to form a bulwark against the Handie incursion, they are taking a considerable risk in opting for the restoration of a monarchical system, be the promise of Constitutional protections never so sincere. And internally, it leaves the CSS with considerable issues of national identity, cultural solidarity, effective leadership, and so on that can further jeopardize the recovery process.”

“Finally, the matter of Upper Virginia should not be forgotten. The cycle of civil violence, military intervention, and dictatorship could have consequences throughout the region over the long term. We don’t have any way of verifying the extent of Handie influence there, but it is likely well-established. And the Upper Virginians are much less socially and politically resilient than the CSS. The Handie foothold could last a long time there, and give them a base of operations for continuing trouble in the Isles for a very long time.”

The analyst addressed this disquisition impartially to all of the diplomats present, but his main focus was upon Nataka, who now summed up the basics of Church policy.

“As you know, the Holy Father is deeply concerned about the spread of the Handie ideology, and its consequences for human dignity and social justice. However, important as that consideration may be, it must be subordinated to the higher risk of prolonged and destructive military action in the region, and of course, that which must always come first: The effectiveness of the Church, and our ability to sustain the spiritual health of the Faithful.”

“Given all of these factors, brothers, what might our best policy options in the region look like?” Nataka invited.

Archbishop Gopangi, who had listened with studious attention to all of the speakers, said “It seems to me that the most urgent issue is the status of Saxmere. Upon that all things hinge, since the CSS’s puppet government will use it as an excuse for their continued advancement of the Handie program and Knootian involvement. Yet, I believe that the declaration, however badly timed and clumsily undertaken, does represent the sincere impulse of a large segment of the population to political self-determination.”

Tsarong nodded. “And an impulse particularly appealing in light of their determination to resist the Handie malignancy.”

Martin considered. “It appears that there are some very important questions to be answered, yes? One question would be, just how much of Saxmere truly desires political self-determination in the form of the Constitutional monarchy offered to them? And the second, related question would be, if the Handies were gone tomorrow from the CSS, and the old status quo of States’ independence were restored, would the Saxmerians still wish this independence? Or is the desire for independence based solely on the wish to escape the foul Handie control?”

Tsarong was decisive. “I think that if the old status quo were restored the Saxemerians would prefer to remain a democratic State in the Confederation, rather than embrace a dubious Constitutional monarchy. The Saxmerian Church’s concern for keeping the Handie pollution from damaging their state is admirable, but I am not sure whether they have adequately considered whether the end truly justifies the means.”

“Much would depend,” Kronstein said, “on how quickly it would be possible to dislodge the Knootian puppetmasters from the CSS.”

At that point, there was a knock on the door. Father Niefto went to open it, and spoke a few words with someone before turning back to his colleagues.

“Brothers, our luncheon is ready in the small conference room. Shall we resume this discussion after lunch?”

As one, the assembled clerics rose.

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

Cameras whirled and flashes popped as Shannon Coles stepped up to the podium. The President’s press secretary looked as calm, well-coiffed and telegenic as usual. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said to the assembled reporters, “I have a brief statement.

“Just a few minutes ago, President Caine spoke with Governor Peller of Saxmere on the phone. The President accepted Governor Peller’s invitation to travel to Umbra. He will go there tomorrow, with the Chief of Staff, myself and one or two advisors*. The President has accepted the Governor’s assurances of his safety and will taking a minimal security detail.

“On the issue of opening Saxmerean airspace and the sea lanes around the state, the President told the Governor that he would, and I quote, like nothing more than reopen all the borders, however, it is impossible to do so while the entire Confederation is staring down the barrels of Excalbia’s navy. The President urged Governor Peller to use his good offices to prevail upon the Excalbians to withdraw their navy and lift their blockade of the nation. Once the blockade is lifted, all of the Confederation’s borders – including those in Saxmere – can be reopened.”

Shannon smiled for a beat. “That’ll be all. Thank you.”

*The “advisors” are along to allow Knootoss to take part by RPing them as undercover AIVD liaisons.

On the A-6 Expressway in New Virginia

Thomas hummed idly as he drived. Meanwhile, in the backseat Janice read scripture while Elza looked excitely out of the window.

New Rome, Pantocratoria

Baron James nodded and bowed his head to the Emperor. “Thank you for your counsel, your Majesty. Your words are full of wisdom and I shall heed them. I will schedule the press conference for early tomorrow morning.”

Assuming that the interview was concluded, the would-be Grand Duke rose and took his leave.

* * *

Early the next morning the press gathered in the great hall of the newly renovated Embassy of the Grand Duchy of Saxmere. A small podium bearing the crest of the Grand Duchy of Saxmere stood in front of an ornate fireplace flanked by the flag of Saxmere and the royal pennant of the Grand Duke. Above the fireplace hung a portrait of Grand Duke John I. On the wall to the right were portraits of Baron James, Governor Peller and other current officials in the Saxmerean government.

Once all the press were in place, Sir Alec Nugent, the Saxmerean ambassador to Pantocratoria stepped to the podium. “Thank you all for coming. Baron James, the rightful Grand Duke of Saxmere, will be making a short statement then taking your questions. Ladies and gentleman… His Highness, James, Baron Cambera.”

The baron, dressed in a dark suit of a conservative cut with a bright red tie, walked steadily and confidently from a door to the left up to the podium. Behind the podium, stood comfortably, with an air of command. He smiled briefly at the cameras, then allowed his expression to turn serious.

“Members of the press, thank you for coming so early this morning. I know that there has been considerable interest in the press and a great deal of speculation about the momentous events now taking place in my home country. I will be very happy to answer your questions. But before I do, I would like to make a statement to my people.”

James’ face remained confident, though his brows seemed to furrow and a tear almost seemed to glisten on one eye. “My fellow Saxmereans, I have heard you. You – and your elected representatives – have called for a new beginning for our nation. Your parliament – your representatives – have voted to reject the empty promises of hollow philosophies and to instead allow you to chart your own course, a new course, as an independent nation.

“Some have branded your courageous decision as a the result of foreign interference or my own quixotic quest to reclaim an ancestral throne.” James shook his head slightly. “But I know the truth. This has been your decision. Your parliament, which you elected, has heard you and your cries. Parliament has responded. In the highest traditions of liberal democracy, your elected representatives have acted to carry out your wishes.

“Your governor, Governor Peller – a man of true courage and moral consistency – summed up the democratic ideal of government when he observed that his own counsel had been to wait, to give the Confederation and President Caine one more opportunity to turn from their path of intrigue of subversion and to restore the Confederation’s hallowed principles of state sovereignty and autonomy, but that once the people had spoken through parliament, it was his duty to move forward.

“And that is my duty as well.” James seemed to bow his head for a moment in a gesture of humility. He was sweating inside his shoes and his stomach was turning. But this was the moment he had waited for most of his life and he let its momentum and energy carry him. “Your parliament has expressed your desire to restore the grand ducal throne. I am honoured by your desire and I resolve to do my best to fulfill the role to which you have called me.

“However, let me stress that the role of the Grand Duke in a new Saxmere will be a strictly constitutional one. If, by God’s grace, I ascend to the throne of my ancestors in Umbra, my chief responsibility will be to act as the guardian and champion of my people’s democratic rights.

“It is in this capacity that I now address myself directly to President Caine, the citizens of the Confederation, the Confederation’s ally – Knootoss and the whole international community. The people of Saxmere have spoken. A freely and democratically elected parliament, in response to the public will, has voted to re-establish Saxmerean independence.

“While I concede that there are many details to be negotiated, the basic desire of the people is not open for negotiation. The free citizens of Saxmere, through their parliament, have chosen independence. All those who claim to champion freedom and democracy must pay heed. To deny my people their freedom to decide their own fate is to deny the basic tenets of democracy and, ultimately, to deny your own freedoms.”

The baron smiled somberly at the reporters. “Now, I will take a few questions…”

Umbra, Capital of Saxmere

For those used to Jefferson, Umbra was a startling contrast. Being many hundreds of years older than any city in the southern half of the C.S.S., Umbra would have seemed quaint and medieval compared with ultramodern expanse of Jefferson. The Saxmeran capital’s narrow, winding streets opened into large squares bordered by churches, cathedrals, chapels and palaces. The few modern skyscrapers that intruded on the city were exiled to the furthest reaches of the city centre, well away from its ancient core.

The motorcade carrying the President of the C.S.S. wound its way through old cobblestone streets, passed the parliament, where days earlier the Confederation flag had been pulled down and burned. Passed the cathedral church of the Immaculate Conception, where members of the Catholic faithful held up signs denouncing the Order of the Invisible Hand, and passed the modern residence of the governor. Finally, the motorcade turned into the courtyard of the Royal Palace, where workers had just finished removing the sign marking the palace as the Museum of History.

The motorcade stopped in front of a small platform. Governor Peller, Lieutenant Governor Aldaris and other officials waited on the platform, flanked to their right by the flag of Saxmere and the royal pennant. To their left, the flag of the C.S.S. hung limply, like that of a slightly distasteful foreign dignitary.

As President Caine strode out of his motorcade and up the steps, the Militia Band played the national anthem of the Confederation. After exchanging greetings with the President, the Governor came to attention and the band played the Royal March, the new national anthem of Saxmere.

After the music finished, Governor Peller escorted Caine into the Great Hall of the Palace, where a wide range of civic leaders sat around a horseshoe table. Leaders of business and industry, both those that had supported and opposed independence sat together on one end. Next to them sat the lay leaders of a group known as “Saxmereans for Christian Social Justice and Traditional Values.” On the other end of the table sat labour and union leaders. Closer to the centre sat leaders of parliament, the commander of the militia, the commander of the state police and members of the Governor’s cabinet. An empty throne, symbolizing the absent Grand Duke, occupied the middle place at the table. The Governor took his place to the right of the throne and gestured towards three empty seats to the left. Seats for additional staff were just behind the seats of the principals, forming a second row around the table.

“Please, Mr. President,” Peller said, “have a seat.”

Once everyone was seated, Peller looked at Caine and smiled. “We are all grateful that you have come to speak with us, Mr. President. We all hope that we can come to an amicable solution to the current crisis.”

Peller looked over the face around the table. “We, in our parliament’s provisional declaration of independence, have made our position clear. And we had believed that your closure of our airspace and sea-lanes had made your position clear. In your televised address, however, you indicated a willingness to acknowledge some… shall we say… mistakes and to take seriously our complaints. So, I guess, Mr. President, that we would all like to hear from you just what mistakes you are prepared to admit and just how far you are prepared to go to make them right. Are you, for instance, prepared to accept our independence as, in part, a consequence of your administration’s actions and allow us to go our own way?”

After the would-be Grand Duke's appearance, Thibault Drapeur made an address to the nation, and to the world, after the evening news. He was resolved to try to make the best out of what he thought was a desperately bad situation; everybody seemed to be heading towards further escalation. However, the Palace had given him his marching orders for the night's address, and doubted very much that he was about to cool things down. He sat behind his desk in his office in the Palais du Parlement Impérial, with a Pantocratorian flag on each side, and a portrait of the Emperor behind him.

"My friends," he began. "The people of Saxmere have spoken through their democratically elected parliament. It is their sovereign will that their nation be allowed its freedom from the Confederation, and that James Kennan be allowed to take his place as a constitutional monarch. It is incumbent on us, and on every other democratic nation, on all the free peoples of the world, to recognise their manifest will, their absolute right to self-determination."

"Only one thing stands in the way of the will of the people - the Confederation's blockade." he said. "Make no mistake about it, this blockade is a hostile action taken directly against the people of Saxmere, who want no more than you or I already enjoy - the right to live in peace, to be free men and women in their own country. This blockade impedes the will of the people of Saxmere as expressed by their parliament - it prevents the man Saxmereans would have as their Grand Duke from travelling to Umbra, it prevents Saxmereans from coming and going, it starves their economy of vital foreign trade. This blockade is an outrage against the people of Saxmere, and should be an outrage to all the free peoples of the world!"

"I implore the Confederation to lift their blockade of the independent nation of Saxmere." Drapeur concluded. "I hold out hope that the negotiations underway in Umbra bring a speedy end to the blockade and peaceful resolution to this situation. The free peoples of the world cannot stand-by forever while this outrage is perpetrated against the Saxmerean people. Pantocratoria will not stand-by indefinitely."

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

“Your Highness,” Sir Adam said, bowing again to Princess Marie.

The Ambassador turned to the Austar Union’s ambassador and shook his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Ambassador Montescu. I have been hoping to meet you. It seems that circumstances have drawn the Austar Union into the current situation in the North Atlantic.” The veteran ambassador inclined his head slightly. “I understand from my capital that your forces in the North Atlantic have established cordial relations with our own fleet. So, we believe it is time for us to establish cordial diplomatic relations as well.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Princess Anna had decided to approach the Emperor alone. For some reason she had some misguided sense that she could somehow do something to help him in his present state if others weren't about to interfere. Joseph seemed so mindful of his mother's advice, but Anna knew that the Empress' advice couldn't help the situation because it would've certainly already been offered to Emperor David in person to no effect. The man was still obviously stressed, still obviously on the edge. A different approach was needed. She quietly entered the room in which the Emperor was brooding.

"Your Majesty..." she said in her sweet and disarming voice, as she curtsied lightly. "I'd very much like to keep you company, if it pleases you."

Imperial Senate Building, Citadel Excalbia

The Imperial Senate building in the heart of Citadel Excalbia is a grand neoclassical edifice dominated by a large dome. Inside, broad corridors and sweeping staircases linked ornate offices, stately meeting rooms and, of course, the dark and brooding chamber of the Senate. Behind the ornate opulence, however, was another world – a world of narrow hallways, hidden stairways and warrens of small offices.

One of the many small offices hidden away in the deep recesses of the Senate was the cloakroom – a former storage room – that served as the meeting room of the Freedom Party’s legislative faction. Inside, the Freedom Party’s chairman, Sir Harrison Grasis, sat on the corner of a table looking intently at the other 15 party members gathered in the room.

“Just what are you suggesting, Sir Harrison?” Agricultural Minister Thalia DeSoto sat nervously on the edge of her chair.

“Certainly you aren’t suggesting that we withdraw from the Government?” Senator Clinton Howe spread his hands plaintively as he spoke. “Even without us, the PC and CU would retain a majority. And would probably only drift further to the left.”

“No, no,” Treasury Minister Grasis said evenly, “I am not suggesting that we pull out of the Government. Yet.” He looked around the room. “But tell me, are any of you comfortable with where this Government is going? With the tax rates? The level of Government spending? The belligerence towards the Confederation?” Grasis again scanned the room, but no one would meet his gaze.

“So,” Howe said, “just what do you propose?”

“That we keep our options open. That we at least begin planning to return to opposition in advance of the elections, so as to better criticize this Government and better position ourselves as an alternative to it.”

Heads around the room nodded.

“But, what about the Emperor? He fully supports the current Government. Do you think he’ll allow a sharp change in policies after the elections?”

“He will,” Grasis said, “if the PC and CU lose their majorities. And, if he doesn’t,” Grasis looked away for a moment, “then, that is a problem we’ll have to deal with…”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Emperor David IV looked up from the book he was pretending to read and smiled weakly. "Ah, Anna," he said, trying to sound more relaxed than he was, "please join me." His smile brightened somewhat as the young princess came closer. "I could use some good company. Tell me," he said, his voice gaining a warm, fatherly quality, "how are you doing?"

------------------
Atlantic Ocean
------------------

The Atlantic Ocean split into two diverging waves before the high bow of the KDF Hoogmoed – the Pride – and indeed it could be honestly said about this ship that she was the pride of the modern Knootian navy. Visible even for distant observers was was the high mast of the 350 metre long multirole ‘Ondeugd’ (vice) class battleship, its blue bowl at the top glistening with charged static electricity.

Right below this weapon, a host of giant flags had been attached: the Knootian and KDF navy flags atop, but below that also the flag of VERITAS and old the sword of SATO – in a pointed historic gesture – and even the historic flag of the Prince of Knootcap, once an Empires Prince whose lion so closely mimicked the Imperial Lion of the Teutonic Empire. The difference between the two was that the Knootian beast, standing upright in a similar position, was red as flame and lacked the Imperial Crown hanging above the Lavenrunzian lion.

The display of flags would have been an impressive sight if there had not been the slight Atlantic drizzle – but a whimsical shadow compared to the downpour in Lavenrunz – that made the spectacle all so much more earthly.

As she slowly maneuvered alongside the Lundgren class destroyer, a shadow was cast over the ship, men began to form up on the deck in parade uniform, standing in line by way of greeting as the Hoogmoed dipped its own flag in respectful naval salute to the RM Alfkonu, coinciding with a brief manoeuvre by her enormous turrets, as if the ship could nod in acknowledgement to its brethren. A band came out to play military music as a helicopter descended from the platform to make its way for the Lavenrunzian vessel.

--------------------------------------------
Submarine KDF Lely
Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles
-------------------------------------------

“Yup, that was definitely a ping this time, Ma'am. Still reasonably far away though.”

“Towed active sonar array. They are looking for us,” Captain Merwede mumbled to herself as she looked over the data.

“CAESAR?” – she asked with a remarkably clear voice. The computer hummed obediently as the Knootians hand lingered slightly over the console. As if she was still rethinking her plan...

“Please transpose routes of all civilian shipping into the Confederation of Sovereign States over the current naval map of station three with estimates of their current positions.”

“Affirmative”, a calm female voice spoke out from an invisible speaker on the bridge. As the computer at monitor three, located in the map room, began to hum a a series of horizontal lines appeared on the black screen to denote scheduled transatlantic traffic relative to their own position. Merwede walked over to the map room, trailed by her First Officer.

“Sophie?”, the bearded man whispered softly when he thought nobody else could hear them. “Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?”

She smiled. “Sometimes a mother hen has to take some risks to do what is best, Bart.” She reached over to push a few buttons and one of the lines was zoomed out with one of the peripheral monitors showing the details:


Tanker Yutland – carrying oil
Owner: Petroco Industries
Listed cargo: Crude oil
Destination: Jefferson, New Virginia

Both senior officers emerged on the main bridge a little later. She gazed out briefly over her men and women, before raising her voice with a confident twinkle in her eyes.

“Prepare for a run. It is just one short mile to Confederate waters. If the helm is ready for a bit for creative steering?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Knootian TRD embassy
Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambassador Cornelissen stared gloomily at the package on his desk. Ever since it had arrived, the little box wrapped in carton had been staring at him and he just could not take it any longer.

“These make you sit through three and a half hours of ceremonial whining as a sign that they like you! Can’t imagine what they do to their foes”, he complained to himself as he wallowed in his own misery. “And with all these annoying people there. Half of them read minds and the other half think they can. If that bloody Syskeyian just leaves me alone tonight, or I won’t make it. I could claim food poisoning. Yeah, that’s the ticket,” he thought grimly.

“A gramme is better then a damn” he told himself as he ripped open the package with the Bonifatius Recreational Drugs Incorporated logo. Sending it over the diplomatic mail had been a risk – professional standards and all – but nobody had questioned the delivery. As he delved into the box he quickly found the round pink pills he had been looking for…

The Knootian arrived at court with an especially peaceful and comfortable smile. As he was welcomed he greeted his Danaan hosts with exceptional congeniality. His slightly dilated pupils were not really noticeable, and any empaths would only detect pleasant, light-hearted thoughts from an otherwise aloof and gloomy gentleman: clouds, sandy beaches, women in bathing suits, and the like. Saying little, he took the position he knew he was supposed to take for the ceremony while smiling contently into nothingness.

OOC: SS, if you want you can send me some fictive polling data in a telegram and I’ll make something out of it. Unless you want to keep CSS public opinion vague of course.

Finally, High Queen Agwene entered, clad in a gown of shimmering green gossamer. The Danaan courtiers stilled, bowing to their queen. As Agwene settled into the marble throne, they rose.

Court was court. The High Queen heard reports from various court officers, knighted a hero from the seemingly unending fighting on the Garmarian frontier, bestowed a dozen or so lesser honors, blessed the impending marriage of a number of ranking nobles, gently reminded those present that Grand Duchesses Nianki and Vicotira both remained single, pardoned a pregnant woman convicted of grand theft auto, and performed any number of similar duties.

Finally, Agwene turned to look around the courtroom, focusing her gaze somewhat longer on the ambassadors than on the other courtiers. "Does anyone wish to address the court?"

"If I may, Your Majesty," Princess Marie said, the smallest hint of a nervous waiver in her otherwise sweet but strong voice. "The Confederation of Sovereign States has blockaded the people of Saxmere, preventing the free movement of people and commerce to and from Saxmere. This blockade is a great hardship to the Saxmerean people. On behalf of my government, I humbly ask Your Majesty to condemn this blockade."

Agwene inclined her head with a light smile. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Your Highness." She looked around the room. "I believe, based upon the reports I've read of a certain meeting with my Prime Minister last night, that others here would also wish to speak. I will listen before I speak."

Meanwhile, Grand Duchess Corrina, a 5'4" Sidhe with a more voluptuous body than most Sidhe, moved over to Una. "Excuse me, ambassador, could I draw you aside for a moment?" she asked quietly. It seemed clear that drawing someone aside like this was acceptable at court, as it was Her Majesty's mother who was asking.

Published and supported by a cross-section of Knootian high society: artists, musicians, politicians, writers, businessmen, philosophers and clergy.

To all the Excalbian people, and all others willing to listen!

Try to realize, every one of you, what we are going through! Several weeks ago all of us were peacefully doing our jobs. The farmer was harvesting this summer's plentiful crop, the factory worker was producing goods with the usual vigour and not one sentient being among us dreamed of war. We are a nation that wishes to lead a quiet and industrious life. This needs hardly be stated to you Excalbians, who know the temper of the Knootians who dwell in your lands.

Our love of peace is so strong that it is regarded by us as a virtue in itself. We simply know it to be an inborn and integral portion of ourselves. Our commercial extension and our financial rise in the NationStates world are far removed from any love of military adventures; they are the fruit of painstaking and plodding labour and daring entrepreneurship. Do you really believe that we have changed our natures, that our souls can ever be satisfied with military drill and servile obedience?

We are soldiers now because we have to be soldiers, because otherwise the Knootian Federation and her allies would be terrorised by those opposing its very existence. It has cost us long and weary struggles to attain our independence, and we know full well that, in order to preserve it, we must not content ourselves with building schools and factories; we must also look to our army, our navy and our air force. We and all our soldiers now at sea have remained, however, the same lovers of commerce, music and the fruits of exalted thought. We have retained our old devotion to all peaceable sciences and arts, working through KIST and other institutions in the foremost ranks of all those who strive to advance the free exchange of commodities, and of those who further useful, technical knowledge amongst all sentient beings. And while we have been forced to become a nation of soldiers in order to stay terrors bloody hand in Tanah Burung and to protect the security of our allies, we will gladly return to be the peaceful merchants of this world once the madness of our enemies has subsided.

We did not menace Excalbia; did not question her authority; did not attack her honour or her interests. We always responded loyally to the duties of the friendship of like-minded freedom-loving peoples– and then she took to the field and mobilised her many fleets against us, spied on our citizens dwelling peacefully in our own land and agitated against our friends. Instead of responding cool-headedly and openly as is her national character, the government of Excalbia abandoned the Confederation and went over with flying colours into the camp of its enemies. But though your governments actions force us to guard our boarders, we will never strike back, for the love of peace as a virtue in itself.

It therefore deeply distresses us to see that such a highly civilized nation, the very same Excalbia that has always promoted peace and the liberty of peoples, now refuses to end its blockade of the people of the Confederation instead of choosing to act in a responsible manner becoming of responsible, free states. It is not our fault: we firmly believed in the desirability of our great nations working together, and we have peaceably come to terms with other nations before in much more difficult questions. We even negotiated peace with the GDODAD, but yet still we cannot sway the government to accept out hand outstretched!

There is no cause to continue this needless agitation, no reason why Excalbia should reject our friendship. Your Imperial Chancellor, as an individual, is most certainly not the instigator of the Knootian-Excalbian conflict fuelled by the Pantocratorian Royalist agitators, but she bears the responsibility of continuing it by refusing to accept a solution.

Excalbia has an important mission to fulfil in its own country and in the Excalbian Isles. It would do better in its own interest to leave the rest of the world in peace. But now the die is cast, and all nations must decide whether they wish to further the idea of peace by sentiment and deed, or to stand by the staunch refusal of peace by your government as it drives head-long for confrontation. This is the core of this appalling struggle, all the rest is immaterial. Excalbia's implacable attitude alone forces us to remain a nation at arms.

The Knootian nation is serious and conscientious. Never would a Knootian government dare to contemplate a war for the sake of territory, or for the sake of glory. This would be against the entire bent of our character. Will not this calm, self-reliant and unanimous readiness to make peace appeal to other nations and make them understand our real character and the situation in which we are placed?

We trust in the Excalbian Isles, we have confidence in the judgment of its right-minded men and women at the helm. And with all our hearts we call to you all: do not believe the mischievous lies that our enemies are spreading about! Put what pressures you can you’re your government to accept an enduring solution that will only make sense, in the interest of the stability of the Excalbian Isles and for the sake of peace itself.

Agwene waited a long moment as silence fell over the court. Sidhe courtiers, radiant beyond words, turned curious gazes to the Knootian. Athletic Satyrs watched him eagerly. The entire room, its shining marble floor reflecting radiantly in the sunlight, had its attention focused on that one man, a man who was quite too high to have been paying much attention.

The moment was larger than life, as was every moment at the High Court. The court room, the palace, the whole Marble City, was carved from one great piece of white marble, one giant outcropping. The courtiers came from dozens of races, each more fantastic than the next. The Sidhe made the most natural courtiers, flitting among the crowd with complex subtleties, every tiny motion a calculated gesture of respect of insult, hate or love, intimacy or distance.

Agwene waited about five minutes, facing forward and, unlike everyone in the room, not looking at anyone in particular. She had been sure the Knootian would be opposed but she wasn't going to call on him like a school teacher. It was his job to know when to speak up.

Emperor David IV looked up from the book he was pretending to read and smiled weakly. "Ah, Anna," he said, trying to sound more relaxed than he was, "please join me." His smile brightened somewhat as the young princess came closer. "I could use some good company. Tell me," he said, his voice gaining a warm, fatherly quality, "how are you doing?"

"I'm doing well, Sire." Anna replied with a smile as she sat down next to him. "Although my mornings are starting to get a bit... interesting."

She smiled weakly at him. Her body language couldn't be less threatening, and their wasn't the slightest trace of judgement or even an opinion on her face or in her intelligent and disarming eyes. She just wanted to listen, to let the Emperor unburden himself - once she had done that, then she'd be able to reassess the situation.

"Sire, if I may, your family is more worried about how you are doing." she started softly. "I don't mean to pry... sometimes my father unburdened himself on me, when he felt that nobody else could understand. Not that I could understand necessarily, but he knew I would listen, and that was what was important. I know that Her Majesty and the rest of your family love you very much, but I thought... maybe you needed somebody just to listen? I know it isn't any of my business, Your Majesty... but if there's been something you've wanted to get off your chest, I'd very much like to listen. I promise I won't say anything, or give you advice, or cluck my tongue, or do any of those things your ministers do!"

Jefferson Daily Dispatch

Polls Show Little Support for Saxmerean Independence
Special to the Daily Dispatch

(Jefferson, Wednesday) - A new poll conducted by the Daily Dispatch and CBN shows that the overwhelming majority of Confederation citizens oppose Saxmerean secession. While pockets of support for the secessionists exist, most citizens continue to favor a united Confederation.


Poll Question: Do you support the secession of the State of Saxmere?
Yes - 26 %
No - 68 %
Don't Know/Don't Care - 6 %

State-by-State
Percentage of Citizens Answering "Yes"
New Virginia - 6 %
Trondgard - 8 %
Alud - 8 %
Deandra - 32 %
Southland - 44 %

Umbra, Captial of the Sovereign State of Saxmere

As President Caine entered the Great Hall, he subtly began to work the room; smiling, waving to familiar faces, shaking hands with business leaders and nodding politely to his most entrenched foes. He took his place and listened with a look of intent concentration as Governor Peller opened the meeting.

Caine smiled faintly as the Governor mentioned independence. The President spread his hands apologetically as he began to speak. “Governor, community leaders, fellow citizens. I thank you for this opportunity to discuss the situation with you.

“As you noted, Governor Peller, I have made some mistakes. And admitted them. Perhaps I have been a bit over zealous in my desire to improve the circumstances of our people; since I took office, the economic has grown dramatically – unemployment is down, income is up, as are foreign trade and investment. I believe in my reforms and I believe they have benefited the citizens of the Confederation.

“As I said, though, I may have pursued these policies a bit more forcefully than some would like; that is why I am here today. I want to hear your concerns – your specific concerns and fears.”

Caine’s smile broadened. “As for accepting your act of secession,” the President shrugged good-naturedly, “I don’t think we’ve come to that point yet; that would be admitting our discussions are a failure before they even begin. That said, I can assure you that I have not intention of using force of any kind to compel the citizens of Saxmere to do anything.

“Now, I would like to hear why you feel the need to secede. What are your concerns?”

Aboard INV Landing, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

“Commander, Osprey Six has a possible contact not far from our last confirmed location,” RadarTech 2nd class Trevor Skinner said, looking up from his board. “The contact is tentative, but my gut tells me it’s our tin can, Ma’am.”

LCDR Anna Laivniece looked up at the large tactical screen. A blinking red icon marked the possible contact picked up by the ASW plane’s towed array. It was not far from the dull red icon that marked their last firm contact. “It looks like they’re trying to keep silent. Probably killed their engines. The drift would be about right.” Laivniece turned to her tactical staff. “What are they up to?”

Chief Jon Tillis looked down at his screens. Obviously the sub was waiting. But for what? He tapped a few commands into his console. “Commander,” he said looking up, “take a look at this.” As he spoke a number of bright yellow lines appeared on the large screen. “Those are commercial ships en route to Confederation waters. It might try to use one of them to mask its movements.”

“Which one, Chief?”

“I’d bet on that one, Ma’am,” Tillis said, pointing to a line that turned bright red. “M/V Yutland. A tanker.”

Laivniece nodded. “But I see at least three other possibilities.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I need to go see the Captain. Good work, gents.”

* * *

CAPT Jennifer Wells stood stiffly along the railing just outside the bridge. The wind blew her short blonde hair back away from her face and made the collar of her white duty tunic flap madly. “How certain are you that this is her plan, Commander?”

“Well, Captain,” Laivniece looked away, across the still cold and choppy waters of the North Atlantic, “we – I – can’t be sure. But, it’s our best guess. And that’s all we have at the moment, Ma’am.”

CAPT Wells nodded. Part of her wished she were still commanding her little Wraith-class missile boat. Following Fleet orders, rather than making them. “In that case, we need to follow it up. But we can’t afford to be wrong. So, we’ll need to stop all four ships. Before they get to Confed waters.” She looked at LCDR Laivniece, who seemed to nod solemnly. “I’ll notify Admiral Taliefero and Admiral Turlais on Majestic. Go ahead and send out instructions to all three Wraith squadrons to intercept and stop those four ships.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” LCDR Laivniece snapped a quick salute before ducking back inside the bridge.

After a moment, CAPT Wells followed her and called RADM Jeter Taliefero.

OOC: Hi everyone; sorry but I've been very very busy the last few days. Tonight I will have some time online and will respond to stuff. The best way I was thinking for people to make sure I do respond to their initiatives in this thread over the next week will be if perhaps they'd be so kind as to link me.
The following week I will simply be away, period, and so please don't expect me at all.

OOC: Jo, post 363

(OOC: Lavenrunz, please take a look at post 345. Cheers.)

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

The Emperor smiled and nodded. “I remember when Elizabeth was carrying Joseph.” He looked passed Anna, as if staring at something far away. “She had quite a few… interesting… mornings.”

David IV looked warmly as his daughter-in-law. The young woman had impressed him from their first meeting. Her love for Joseph was obvious, as were her earnestness and her concern for others. But there was also a great deal of intelligence and understanding behind those soft eyes.

“I can certainly understand your father turning to you to share his burdens, Anna,” the Emperor said, “you are an impressive young woman.” He seemed to stare off into space again for several moments.

“As for my family…,” the Emperor looked away, “I know they are worried and trying to do what they think best. As are Lord Corman, Lady Freedman and my Government.” He turned to Anna and smiled weakly. “That is why I haven’t challenged them about trying to control the news into the Summer Palace.” He chuckled half-heartedly. “And of course I know they are. If I said anything, however, I would only embarrass Elizabeth. And Lord Corman… Old Johannes. He would insist on resigning if he knew I knew he was keeping things from me. As would the Chancellor. And I can’t afford to lose either one at this moment.”

The Emperor leaned towards Anna. “What they don’t understand, Anna, is that I inherited an Empire at peace. My grandmother – Mary II – and my father reigned over almost three decades of unbroken peace. If you include the second half of my great-grandfather’s reign, then you have over five decades of peace and prosperity.” The Emperor wearily shook his head. “And in less than one decade on the throne, I have sent our troops to war twice and am preparing to do it again.”

He turned and looked plaintively at Anna. “It certainly is not that I am fond of war, my dear Anna, it is just that,” he looked uncomfortably at the princess, “times have changed and my father and grandmother – God rest their souls – did not prepare our country for these times. So it fell to me to rebuild our military and strengthen our will. I could not let all that they worked so hard to build drift away before I could pass on it to Joseph.”

The Emperor opened the drawer of the small desk beside him and pulled out a blue folder with a red border and red slash across it. Now that he was finally opening up to someone, it felt so good, it was if he could not stop. “Do you what this is, Anna?” He asked, opening the folder. “This is a battle plan for a full naval strike at the DDR’s homeland. Hundreds of ships firing hundreds and hundreds of precision AI-guided missiles.” He shook his head. “I don’t intend to attack them. But, if they attack our blockade of the Confederation, we may have no choice.” He looked down at the papers. “If it is only marginally effective, it will severely affect their port facilities and curtail their ability to support and deploy their navy. If it is fully effective…,” he looked away sadly, then quickly closed the folder and locked it away.

“I don’t want a war, Anna, but I won’t let the Order destroy us without a fight.” He leaned again towards his daughter-in-law. “Do you know why I fear the Order so much, Anna? Because the world they paint sounds so… reasonable. So good.” The Emperor’s eyes narrowed and expression grew intent. “It’s the same reason communism is so dangerous. It appeals to noble sentiments and offers a utopian world, but what it really does is turn that world upside down. Communism promises to make the state take care of people, but turns people into the faceless mass and turns the state into the master. The Order promises individual freedom and a state ruled by reason, but turns people into cogs of the machine and makes them servants of an impersonal market.”

The Emperor shook his head. “You can see why I can’t give them a foothold in the Excalbian Isles, can’t you, Anna?”

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

As the High Queen entered, Sir Adam turned in her direction and bowed gracefully.

Sir Adam nodded appreciatively as Princess Marie spoke. He was very pleased to have someone else raise the issue. When she had finished, he – like everyone else in the room, except the Queen – turned and waited for the Knootian to speak. After waiting a respectful period, the Imperial Ambassador stepped forward and bowed towards the throne.

“Your Majesty,” Sir Adam said gently, “if I might speak, I would like to think Her Highness, the Ambassador of Pantocratoria for raising this issue.” He looked towards Princess Marie and gave her a slight bow and a smile. “I have received word this morning that the people of Saxmere are receiving the President of the Confederation for negotiations over their secession. The only thing they have asked of the Confederation is that it lift its blockade – to allow the movement of people, goods, foods and medicines. But the Confederation – no doubt at the instruction of its Knootian ally – has refused. It continues to strangle Saxmere even as it talks peace, your Majesty.”

In the courtyard outside the History Museum/Royal Palace, cameras that had been focused on journalists endlessly rehashing the same old information about President Caine’s visit suddenly swiveled, and newscasters paused as their earpieces excitedly issued new instructions.

Coming down the comparatively broad avenue that led from the Cathedral to the courtyard, a crowd, clearly protestors, was approaching, several hundred strong. The crowd appeared to be composed of one main group with several smaller ones tacked on ad-hoc, and was followed by a much less-organized group of counter-protestors.

The protestors bore several huge banners: “No Secession, No Royalty!” read one. Somewhat confusingly, an equally large banner proclaimed “Boot the Knoots! Handies Out of CSS!” A number of smaller signs made it clearly evident that, while the group was anti-secessionist in character, it was also virulently anti-Handie. However, they walked in good order, singing (alternately) the CSS anthem and Saxmere’s own “Isle of Light, State of Grace.” No weapons, nor anything threatening that could be construed as a weapon, were in evidence—even the signs were of light, porous pseudo-fabric, and hand-carried on lightweight, hollow plastic standards.

After a brief radio check with his superiors, the Saxmerian officer in charge of security in the courtyard approached the leading rank of protestors, who halted politely. A balding, amiable-looking man wearing respectable business attire stepped forward to have a short colloquy with the officer. Free speech has always been deeply cherished in Saxmere. If they would confine their demonstration to this half of the courtyard, and make no effort to approach the Palace any closer, they could have their say unmolested.

The balding man nodded reassuringly. They had no intention at all of being disorderly. The group was composed of the most sober and respectable-looking, citizens, workers and small business people, middle aged and a few elderly. The kind of citizens no democratic leader in their right mind would want to be caught visibly oppressing.

With a nod, the group spread out in the far half of the square. From somewhere, a couple of sturdy boxes appeared, forming a makeshift platform. The balding man mounted it, and clipped a mike to his lapel. Nearby, a couple of people held up the lightweight wireless speakers that would let the whole crowd hear his words easily.

Paul Mardan was a respectable Umbrian businessman and a pillar of the St. Xavier Parish Men’s Club. He had a rare combination of talents: He was an idea man, an entrepreneur, a make-it-happen guy, and also an operations man, an executive, a keep-it-going kind of guy. Outerwear firms started by, and partly owned by, Mardan supplied good-quality coats, parkas and jackets to much of Saxmere, and he had lucrative distribution contracts with Excalbia as well.

The election of the Caine government and the Saxmerian secessionist movement put a serious cramp into Mardan’s plans. He’d been in the process of finalizing a States-wide network of distribution and additional manufacturing plants that would have made him a major player in Deandra, Trondgard, and New Virginia. He believed that the best way to assure a loyal and productive work force was to treat them with respect, and offer them the opportunity to buy shares in his businesses. In consequence, he’d never had serious labor troubles, and though the unions regarded him warily as a tough negotiator, they worked reasonably cooperatively with him. Though tough, he was a man of his word.

With the advent of new, Knootian-backed business interests in New Virginia that were rapidly wiping out the unions and replacing loyal, productive workers with expendable cheap-labor peons, his pending distribution deals had fallen through. The blockade that was keeping him from delivering his goods to Excalbian markets was an even greater hardship.

A man of Paul Mardan’s energy and resourcefulness wasn’t going to sit back and allow himself to get reamed. He had contacts all through Saxmere, in labor and commerce, through the Church and his many civic interests. He mobilized a steering committee, they started tossing around ideas. This was only the beginning.

He flipped the mike switch. “My friends and neighbors, thank you for coming today. Here in Saxmere our citizens have always felt free to express our feelings to our representatives, and we’ve generally been lucky enough to have representatives who listen—at least half the time. Or maybe to half of us.” His eyes twinkled a little as he spoke, and the crowd chuckled.

“The same thing has always been true, until recently, of the whole CSS. Nowhere in the world was there a better place for people to live who liked to mind their own business and let others mind their own. Our nation had been rich in what we’ve all learned from each other as each state tried its own methods of governing, managing economies, and meeting citizen needs. Now, some well-intentioned but short-sighted individuals want to tear this rich fabric apart!”

Unhappy noises from the crowd, and a few shouts of “No!” and “CSS forever!”

“They promise us a new government, a new way of life. But they are mistaken about that. For Saxmere has already had royalty, and we rejected royalty! We want a democratic government of our state in solemn concordance with our neighbor states for a strong nation, a strong Confederated Sovereign States!”

Applause.

“That’s what we want, I say. But what are they proposing to give us? A monarchy, a royalist state! Oh, they say it will be constitutional, they say it will be democratic. And I do believe that Baron James has good intentions, and wants the best for Saxmere. He’s not a bad guy. But what, I ask you, can possibly be Saxmere’s fate, a tiny royalist state surrounded by a hostile CSS? Dependent on Pantocratoria for our security and well-being?”

“And make no mistake, my friends, our former neighbors will be hostile if we abandon them, not just because we will be rejecting our old neighbors and fellow-citizens, but because of the worse fate we leave them to!! Becoming the despised industrial peons of a soulless Market, created by a HANDIE PUPPET GOVERNMENT!!!”

And as he said this, the entire crowd, as one, raised their right arms, elbows slightly bent, wrists bent—encased in socks. The socks had big “H”s stenciled on them. The message was clear: Handie puppets. There was a roar “Handie puppets OUT!!”

Mardan turned a little, oblique to the crowd, as though he was addressing those inside the Palace as well as those in the courtyard.

“Right now, President Caine is meeting with the Governor. He wants to know why we want to secede, and what can be done to stop it. I’ll tell you what you can do to stop it, President Caine!! Two simple things:”

“First: Boot the Knoots and their Handie filth OUT of CSS and STOP BEING THEIR PUPPETS! Renounce the KIST treaty, and rejoin our Islands mutual defense pact! Get the Knootian Navy OUT OF OUR WATERS!!”

“And second, CALL NEW ELECTIONS! The Confederated Sovereign States, including Saxmere, deserve a government who are not pawns of foreign economic adventurers!! Step down, and let all the citizens of the Confederated Sovereign States pick a real government, a government that cares more for the people of the CSS than making profits!”

By the time Mardan reached his peroration, not only the crowd that had followed him, but many of the counter-protestors, and even some of the security personnel, were whistling and cheering. The hands in their sock puppets pumped, people made kicking motions, and it was revealed that all of the respectable-looking protestors were wearing at least one boot.

However vocal the outburst was, it was still orderly. After some minutes of exuberant endorsement of Mardan’s message, they quieted. Mardan spoke one last time.

“Governor Peller, we, your neighbors and citizens, don’t want to secede from the Confederated Sovereign States. We love our nation, we abhor the thought of becoming a petty princedom dependent on Pantocratorian charity. If you really want to serve your people, convince Caine and his fellow Handie puppets” (again the sock-hands were raised, with derisive relish,) to send their puppetmasters home, and let Saxmere again be a democratic state equal among democratic states in the Confederated Sovereign States!”

Wild applause, cheering, and again the CSS anthem was taken up, as Mardan stepped down, the makeshift platform vanished, and the crowd of protestors, banners high, singing, making “the Handie puppet” motion, marched out of the courtyard.

The cameras had a field day, of course. And within a very few days, the “Handie Puppet” motion had spread like wildfire, not just in Saxmere and the CSS, but wherever people felt the Handie threat. Someone would note to a friend that a businessman or politician was trying to pass some pro-Handie law, the friend would roll eyes and make the “Handie puppet” motion, even without a sock. Knootians abroad suspected of Handie ties could expect to see the gesture from opponents. Some labor unions even began selling little “sock puppet” pins as solidarity fundraisers.

Mardan was as shrewd a marketer as he was entrepreneur and businessman, obviously.

Hofburg, Lavenrunz
“Thank you, Madame Minister,” Lady Allison said standing. “The Chancellor’s personal involvement in the mediation effort would be most welcome; we look forward to receiving him. We need only know the venue of the negotiations.”
The ambassador bowed. “As for the rest of our agenda, may we have our staffs work out the details and move forward with a trade agreement and military sales?”

Aurora von Konigsmark, rising as well, bowed in response and said, "Yes, that would be best. Lady Allison, thank you very much form attending this meeting. I think that we can look forward to at any event good relations between our two countries to our very mutual benefit." she was smiling in a pleased manner as she escorted Lady Allison to the door.


The Danaan High Court
Meanwhile, Grand Duchess Corrina, a 5'4" Sidhe with a more voluptuous body than most Sidhe, moved over to Una. "Excuse me, ambassador, could I draw you aside for a moment?" she asked quietly. It seemed clear that drawing someone aside like this was acceptable at court, as it was Her Majesty's mother who was asking.

Una had learned a bit more about Danaan culture by this time, mostly from a missive from the Empress' cousin's missive. As Archduke Amadeus was Ambassador to Tareldanore, he was acquainted with the Region's nations and the many cultures in it. He had suggested that "the Fae races love to do business on a very personal level. They love to gossip, find out who is really who and what personal motives exist..."
In accordance with this, she smiled warmly and said, "It is Grand Duchess Corrina, is it not? A pleasure Highness, and certainly..." She felt in fact very hot and wrinkly looking at the lovely sidhe woman, but she was also serene enough in her soul not to mind, to rather enjoy how unusual and fascinating the inhabitants of the Kingdom were.


The approach to the North Atlantic
The Atlantic Ocean split into two diverging waves before the high bow of the KDF Hoogmoed – the Pride – and indeed it could be honestly said about this ship that she was the pride of the modern Knootian navy. Visible even for distant observers was was the high mast of the 350 metre long multirole ‘Ondeugd’ (vice) class battleship, its blue bowl at the top glistening with charged static electricity.

Right below this weapon, a host of giant flags had been attached: the Knootian and KDF navy flags atop, but below that also the flag of VERITAS and old the sword of SATO – in a pointed historic gesture – and even the historic flag of the Prince of Knootcap, once an Empires Prince whose lion so closely mimicked the Imperial Leopard of the Teutonic Empire. The difference between the two was that the Knootian beast, standing upright in a similar position, was red as flame and lacked the Imperial Crown hanging above the Lavenrunzian leopard.

The display of flags would have been an impressive sight if there had not been the slight Atlantic drizzle – but a whimsical shadow compared to the downpour in Lavenrunz – that made the spectacle all so much more earthly.

As she slowly maneuvered alongside the Lundgren class destroyer, a shadow was cast over the ship, men began to form up on the deck in parade uniform, standing in line by way of greeting as the Hoogmoed dipped its own flag in respectful naval salute to the RM Alfkonu, coinciding with a brief manoeuvre by her enormous turrets, as if the ship could nod in acknowledgement to its brethren. A band came out to play military music as a helicopter descended from the platform to make its way for the Lavenrunzian vessel.

The Lavenrunzian Imperial Marines and sailors forming the deck force busied themselves with responding to the flag salutes, under Lieutenant Dornburg's direction. As they watched the huge ship underway, Captain von Greim and his staff up on the bridge watched, both impressed and a bit sardonic. "Who names their ships after vices?" muttered his operations officer. "I am never quite sure how I feel about Knootoss."
Von Greim smiled a bit grimly and then said, "That is their wave of the future, ladies and gentlemen." he glanced at his watch and then at Dornburg's activity on the deck as she barked out orders, standing in her slicker in the spattering rain and spray. As another order was thundered by the louder voice of an Imperial Marine Senior Sergeant, the marines lining the gunwhales of the ship facing the Knootian vessel clicked to attention and bayonets flashed upright in the sun. The strains of "God Save the Empress" could be heard over the water.
God save the Empress
Preserve us and protect us
To Earth and Heaven we proclaim
Our Monarch's dear and glorious name
God save the Empress
A shield you are before us
For good you are and generous
In law and order you are just
God save the Empress
Provider are you to us
http://ingeb.org/Lieder/otannenb.mid
As it came to an end, the bandmaster raised his stick and began to lead the band in playing the anthem of the DDR.


Meanwhile, far to the south, a proclamation was read.
The Volksraad, Hofburg, Lavenrunz
"The President recognizes General Hans Schlabel, Chancellor of Lavenrunz."
With applause that to his surprise came from some unexpected quarters, Schlabel stood and adjusted his eyepatch before saying, "Madame President, thank you very kindly. I wish to announce several things. First of all, I am very proud to say that since the time of this Government's beginning, we have reduced the budget by half, largely by cutting out inefficient uses of funds. This effort will continue, but we will not in any way stint the greater good of the nation." he paused as applause rang out. There were some grim mutterings from the Communists, who glared at him.
"However, I must also announce my intention, in accordance with the wishes of Her Imperial Majesty, and the recent vote in the Volksraad, to journey to the North Atlantic to help mediate negotiations between the conflicted parties there. In this, we are not only helping coreligionaries but even those who would vehemently disagree with us, to prevent the unecessary shedding of blood and destruction of lives. I will do all that I can to establish a mutually beneficial peace."


OOC: I don't understand Knoot...please tg me if this helicopter is making its way towards me or what...

Corrina walked off to the side with Una. "How are you, ambassador?"

"I'm very well, Highness, and yourself?" asked Una, holding up the train of her Menelmacari gown with a slender arm.

"I'm well enough." She looked up at Agwene with a slight smile. "I think I must have done something rather right."

"How so, Highness?" asked Una curiously.

"Raising her..." Corrina said, shaking her head to clear it."That isn't what I wanted to talk with you about, however." Una regarded her gravely, and waited patiently, nodding.

"I think my sister rather...misinterpreted your encounter yesterday afternoon."

"Perhaps I did as well, but please go on, Highness." murmured Una, now very interested indeed.

“She thinks you meant to reject Danaan support for the Lavenrunzian
mediation effort."

Una could not suppress her surprise entirely, though she managed not to actually have her jaw drop. "I beg your pardon? However did she get that impression?"

Corrina shook her head. "I wasn't there." Then she paused a moment. "Madame, there is something you should realize about the court here."

"What is that, Highness?" asked Una.

"I understand that what is served at a meal is highly meaningful in Lavenrunz, especially when beef is involved? If I am not mistaken, the content, preparation, and mode of serving a meal can carry unspoken meanings."

"Yes, of course. Also the language of flowers is very important." added Una.

Corrina nodded. "There are customs like that here. While people usually understand that ambassadors are simply unfamiliar with the custom, sometimes it is easy to forget, especially for one who has not often been abroad. I am sure a misunderstanding along those lines was all that occurred."

"Ah, I understand. Highness, please understand, Chancellor Schlabel is making a speech today of his intentions to carry out Her Majesty's commission to act as principal mediator." Una said this with a bland face but a twinkle in her eyes.

Corrina nodded briefly to her daughter before turning back to Una. "Seeing as you do not actually object to public support, I am fairly certain my daughter is about to announce full support for the Lavenrunzian effort as soon as she lets the Knootian speak."

"Public support..." Una gently said, "Is most honored and gladly accepted. I am sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but you see I had no idea what the business of the Field Marshal was, and I was merely trying to be polite."

Corrina nodded. "Interesting that you prefer the military title."

Una blushed and said, "Forgive me, I'm perhaps being the officious Lavenrunzian here..."

Corrina laughed lightly. "Officious how?"

"Preferring official titles...also I must admit that there are so many Highnesses that it is an odd sense of thinking of one's own court in a foreign one..." she gestured, smiling. "Though there are so many utterly lovely persons here that they scarcely compare save in Majesty, Highness..." she then bowed slightly in Corrina's direction.

Corrina smiled lightly. "Oh, I have heard of the marvels of Lavenrunz to no end. I am sure it is we who can scarcely compare."

It was Una's turn to bow, and then to say, "Would you mind, Highness, if I made my request to speak?"

"Oh, not at all." She inclined her head deeply to the woman and moved back.
...
Meanwhile, Araceli and the rest were pulling over for lunch. The young woman had to run relieve herself while the others were headed for the counter.

Una stepped forward, bowed and said, "Forgive me, Majesty, but I beg leave to make an announcement that might raise some hopes..."

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Anna listened to the Emperor attentively, her face not betraying any of the alarm she felt. His words frightened her to her stomach - they were terrifying words. At that moment she was convinced there would be war, and she was convinced that David IV would start it. But she didn't question his reasons for doing so, she didn't even wonder about them to herself. He was an emperor, after all. That his course of action was correct was a given to her way of thinking.

"Of course, Your Majesty." she replied gravely, finally allowing her outward expression to match her inward assessment of the situation. She felt moved by her conscience to make a confession. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared... but I know you'll make the right choice, Sire."

Agwene inlined her head to Una. "Proceed."

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

The Emperor frowned slightly as he saw the fear in Anna’s eyes. He reached over and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I am scared, too, child,” he said gently, “but we cannot let fear control us…” David IV’s words trailed off and he had a distant look in his eyes. A moment later he shook his head and forced a smile. “And not all the news is my bad, Anna. My ministers have let in a piece of good news – the Lavenrunzian Chancellor is coming to the Isles to personally lead mediation efforts. Now if only that stubborn fool Caine and that Knootian elf will listen to reason!”

The Emperor gave Anna a sheepish look as he realized his efforts at comforting her probably were not going as well as he would have liked.

“And,” he said, “we need to trust in God.” The far away look returned to the Emperor’s face. He suddenly realized that he had not prayed in days. At least not since Bishop Purins’ death. He looked at Anna and smiled. “You have been a tremendous comfort to me, Anna. Would you come and pray with me?”

Assuming that she would follow, David IV stood and led the way to the family chapel. It was larger than the chapel in Sweyn Castle, with room to easily accommodate dozens of worshippers. Like the rest of the early 19th century summer palace, the chapel was done in a restrained baroque style. The ceiling was painted with a depiction of Christ sitting in judgment. Gilded cherubs floated in the corners and the walls were painted with murals of the conversion of Joshua, the Great and the coronation of Samuel I, who built the palace.

The Emperor led Anna to the front of the chapel, where a row of gilded kneelers stood in front of a small altar adorned with an ivory carving of the resurrected Christ in front of an oak cross. The Emperor knelt and gestured for Anna to join him.

As the Emperor began to bow his head, the door at the back of the chapel opened and the resident priest walked in carrying a small box. At first the man did not notice the Emperor, but when he looked up, he quickly set the box down and bowed. “Your Majesty, your Highness,” he said. “I didn’t know you were in the chapel. I don’t wish to disturb you…”

“No, no, Rev. Zalitis,” David IV said, his soft voice echoing in the empty chapel, “please, we were just about to pray. Perhaps you could pray for us…”

“I would be honoured, your Majesty,” Rev. Zalitis said as he walked to the altar. He picked up an open Bible that had been displayed on the altar and began turning its pages. “Actually, your Majesty, with your permission, I have something I would like to read to you. As I’ve been praying about… the current situation, I have felt the Holy Spirit pointing me towards this passage.”

Rev. Zalitis stood in front of the altar holding the Bible in his hands. He began to read: “Psalm 37, A Psalm of David, the King.

Do not fret because of evil men
or be envious of those who do wrong;
for like the grass they will soon wither,
like green plants they will soon die away.

Trust in the LORD and do good;
dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.
Delight yourself in the LORD
and he will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will do this:
He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.

Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him;
do not fret when men succeed in their ways,
when they carry out their wicked schemes.
Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
do not fret—it leads only to evil.
For evil men will be cut off,
but those who hope in the LORD will inherit the land.

A little while, and the wicked will be no more;
though you look for them, they will not be found.
But the meek will inherit the land
and enjoy great peace.

The wicked plot against the righteous
and gnash their teeth at them;
but the Lord laughs at the wicked,
for he knows their day is coming.
The wicked draw the sword
and bend the bow
to bring down the poor and needy,
to slay those whose ways are upright.
But their swords will pierce their own hearts,
and their bows will be broken.

Better the little that the righteous have
than the wealth of many wicked;
for the power of the wicked will be broken,
but the LORD upholds the righteous.

The days of the blameless are known to the LORD,
and their inheritance will endure forever.
In times of disaster they will not wither;
in days of famine they will enjoy plenty.
But the wicked will perish:
The LORD's enemies will be like the beauty of the fields,
they will vanish—vanish like smoke.

The wicked borrow and do not repay,
but the righteous give generously;
those the LORD blesses will inherit the land,
but those he curses will be cut off.

If the LORD delights in a man's way,
he makes his steps firm;
though he stumble, he will not fall,
for the LORD upholds him with his hand.
I was young and now I am old,
yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken
or their children begging bread.
They are always generous and lend freely;
their children will be blessed.

Turn from evil and do good;
then you will dwell in the land forever.
For the LORD loves the just
and will not forsake his faithful ones.
They will be protected forever,
but the offspring of the wicked will be cut off;
the righteous will inherit the land
and dwell in it forever.

The mouth of the righteous man utters wisdom,
and his tongue speaks what is just.
The law of his God is in his heart;
his feet do not slip.
The wicked lie in wait for the righteous,
seeking their very lives;
but the LORD will not leave them in their power
or let them be condemned when brought to trial.

Wait for the LORD
and keep his way.
He will exalt you to inherit the land;
when the wicked are cut off, you will see it.
I have seen a wicked and ruthless man
flourishing like a green tree in its native soil,
but he soon passed away and was no more;
though I looked for him, he could not be found.

Consider the blameless, observe the upright;
there is a future for the man of peace.
But all sinners will be destroyed;
the future of the wicked will be cut off.
The salvation of the righteous comes from the LORD;
he is their stronghold in time of trouble.
The LORD helps them and delivers them;
he delivers them from the wicked and saves them,
because they take refuge in him.

Rev. Zalitis closed the Bible and looked down at the kneeling Emperor. "Let us pray..."

Una felt the ticking of the minute hand of destiny. Would this moment be a mere footnote or a chapter of history? Her pulse beat swiftly as she bowed in response to the Queen's words, and said, "Majesty, this from Her Teutonic Majesty, Aurora of Lavenrunz. My Empress has commissioned the Imperial Chancellor, General Hans Schlabel, to lead Lavenrunz' delegation to mediate negotiations in the current North Atlantic crisis. The aim shall be above all to achieve a mutually honorable peace."

The Danaan High Court
The Knootian ambassador Cornelissen had been standing silently while the High Queen and the other ambassadors were still talking about Saxmere, as if it had been none of his concern at all. And indeed, in his thoughts it had been none of his concern. But the first mention of Knootoss by Sir Adam seemed to spark some connection deeply buried in the brain of the intoxicated diplomat, and from then on he followed the discussion almost like an animated child, tilting his head and drawing breaths and smiling as different people said things he liked or disliked. He especially seemed to like the Lavenrunzian and the High Queen, casting a radiating smile upon them as they spoke. But no ill feelings at all were projected towards the Excalbian or the Pantocratorian and he bided his time casually.

When Agwene was finished with the the Lavenrunzian* he spoke up, rather relaxed.

“Your Majesty!”

An elaborate bow assured everyone of his politeness and when the High Queen acknowledged his presence he began:

“I think that it would be a bit silly to condemn a blockade of Saxmere, because Your Majesty does not recognise the independence of Saxmere. As I told one of the guys in my embassy, it’s a bit funny to support people who don’t exist, you know” He smiled brightly before trailing. He added, with a mild frown. “I mean, they exist but it is not really consistent to condemn the blockade of a state you do not recognise because it would be internal. And besides, they are talking things over anyway and it would be bad to meddle when they are talking because when you are being meddled with you cannot talk at the same time.”

“Also… there is this other thing”, he continued more nonchalantly after the profound fools wisdom which he had just shared with the court. “You know, I don't want to be the Confederation ambassador because a Knootian ambassador gets paid much more and they do not have an ambassador here anyway, but the whole Confederation is blockaded too! And Caine who is their President said that he would remove the blockade if the Excalbian ships left so that would be a solution to the whole problem and everyone could go home!” He stopped, evidently thinking hard for a moment.

“You know, I could ask the Your Majesty to condemn the Excalbian blockade of our friends too, but you know its not really nice you know. All these nasty words, what do they solve? Nothing. They just make people angry and don't help people.” He pouted. “And I don’t like war either. We are Knootians, you know? We like to trade and building dykes and Pink Bunny Cola and be friends. We speak a lot of languages, you know.”

The ambassador’s thoughts immediately veered off to the idea of drinking a nice, cold glass of delicious sugary Pink Bunny Cola but he suppressed the thought in favour of concentrating.

“But I think the Lavenrunzians can solve this. If Aurora really wants something it will happen. It was the same with her mother, you know, Empress Joanna. I met her once in a SATO meeting and she was very nice and smart too. And Empress Aurora is her daughter. If anyone can solve this it is the Lavenrunzians.”

He turned his full attention to the High Queen, smiling radiantly like the sun with the happiness of knowing that it would all become all-right soon enough.

*Which I imagine is not yet. But I’m posting anyway because I like to confuse people.

Agwene arched a brow slightly. "The fact that it an internal matter does not in any way prevent us from offering a condemnation. We reserve the right to commend, condemn, or express any other opinion we might have on anything anywhere in the universe. We also reserve the right to tie issues of trade, extradition, collective security, security in international space and sea, diplomacy, freedom of travel and of all other relations pertaining between sovereign states to internal issues. None of this constitutes an infringment on the sovereignty of any other state but rather the excercise of our own sovereignty in our own foreign policy."

"That being said, we are not going to condemn the blockade of Saxmere as doing so would be disruptive to the peace process already at work. we do hereby give full and unconditional support to the mediation efforts of the Teutonic Empire of Lavenrunz and to the solution at which they arrive, whatever that might be. The government of Her Imperial Majesty of Lavenrunz should know that if they wish any diplomatic or material support or access to any relevent information in the hands of the Danaan High Kingdom, then they need only ask." She smiled to Una. "We offer our Knootian and Excalbian allies our utmost assurances of friendship and our word of honor that, as their friend, we wish with profound sincerity that both might enjoy the honor of a just and equitable settlement worthy of free peoples. We also promise that we will respectfully decline any request from either party detrimental to the peace process or designed to give that side a diplomatic, material, or moral advantage, an advantage which would be a disadvantage to the interests of an equitable peace."

Agwene then looked back to the Knootian ambassador. "And ambassador?"

Marie's eyes went wide. The Knootian ambassador looked to her as if he might be drunk - for she certainly had no idea about what somebody who was high looked like. She couldn't believe he'd show up to the court drunk, and couldn't help but be embarrassed for him.

"Monsieur," she asked. "Are you quite alright?"

Umbra, Captial of the Sovereign State of Saxmere

Governor Peller looked at President Caine, then turned to Douglas Aldaris and nodded. Peller was, at best, a tepid supporter of independence. Aldaris was the one who had spearheaded the move and, while Peller knew his Lieutenant Governor would likely be inflammatory; he knew Aldaris would make the case more strongly than he could.

Aldaris nodded and looked at the President. “In short, Mr. President, you are what concerns us. You and your Knootian allies and their Order of the Invisible Hand.” Aldaris shook his head at the President. “The Knootians are good at talking about democracy and freedom and the Order is good at talking about freedom in the so-called marketplace of ideas and about reason, but when they’re challenged, it’s a different song. When Tanah Burung dared challenge the idea that the occupation and colonization of Colombia met Knootoss’ own ideals of democracy, the Knootians found a pretext to invade Tanah Burung and massacre its people. When one of their bishops tried to exercise his rights to challenge the Order in the so-called marketplace of ideas, the murdered him. And right here in Saxmere, when Bishop Purins from Excalbia tried to the same – and mind you, he never said a word about secession or violence or opposing the right of people to believe in your all-powerful market, he merely said we should stand up for our rights not be force-fed your market-worship and not to have made an excuse for undoing our social compact – and when he did that your friends in the Order murdered him, Mr. President. How does that fit any definition of democracy or reason?”

Peller shot Aldaris a sharp look and the Lieutenant Governor nodded. “However, that’s not the only reason we want to secede, Mr. President. For a long time now we and your people – particularly in New Virginia – have been moving in different directions. You value profit and newness above all else. We value community, fairness and tradition. Your ways have increased profits for corporations and raised the per capita GNP, yet they’ve reduced the number of unionized jobs, deleted most labour protections and reduced the average incomes of workers.

“In a sense, Mr. President, your policies have simply accelerated a trend that has been a long-time coming. And your affiliations have simply brought our unease with that trend to the surface.”

President Caine smiled, though his eyes flashed with anger. “Well, Mr. Aldaris, that is quite a litany of infamy. I suppose I am responsible for the sparrow that falls from the sky as well?”

Shannon Coles leaned over to the President and whispered in his ear. Meanwhile, Rihards Krauklis turned to confer quietly with the two advisors seated behind him.

Caine nodded and looked back at Peller. “I think it barely worthy of this esteemed gathering to entertain outlandish conspiracy theories. Or answer them. However, since the Lieutenant Governor has raised them, let me answer them. As for the Knootian efforts to help Colombia shake off domination by drug gangs, I will leave that to each of your interpretations. The police action in Tanah Burung is just that – a reasonable action taken to disable a vicious international terrorist gang. The bishop’s murder there is tragic and is being fully investigated by the Knootians. Bishop Purins’ death, while also tragic, was due to natural causes. And the unseemly aspects surrounding it were his personal business and are best left private.”

The President looked intently at Peller, then looked down the table at the leaders of business and labour and the church. “In any case, I ask, what do Knootoos, Tanah Burung and Colombia have to do with the Confederation and Saxmere?”

He looked back at Peller. “Now the question of different values is a real issue and one we can discuss. I gather that you are not happy with the economic growth policies that we are pursuing in Jefferson. I regret that, because I firmly believe in those policies, as does the Congress and as do most of our people. However, if you wish to exempt from some of them, then let us discuss that.”

“If I might, Mr. President, I have a question,” Colin Hannigan, one of the leaders of the Saxmerean Confederation of Trade Unions, raised his hand.

“Go ahead,” the President leaned forward to read the nameplate in front of the man, “Mr. Hannigan.”

“Thank you, sir. If I might, sir, how can we be exempt from your economic policies when some of our largest corporations are being gobbled up by New Virginia-based companies and foreign investors from Knootoss and when you’ve already made so many of these policies national law?”

Caine smiled pleasantly. “Well, Mr. Hannigan, that is exactly what he need to negotiate. Shall we begin?”

On the A-6 Expressway, Near the Alud State Border

Thomas, Janice and Elza wandered into the restaurant and took seats at the counter. After a short wait, Araceli rejoined them. As the group talked quietly among themselves, the cook stepped out of the kitchen and turned the TV to the news. The broadcast was covering President Caine’s reception in Saxmere and the anti-Knootian demonstrations in the capital. Most people in the diner chuckled at the demonstrators and their sock puppets.

A burly man nursing said a beer looked up. “Mark my words, war’s coming. Excalbians are gonna come right over ‘ese mountains. Right down ‘is highway, most likely. Pro’ly Pantocratorians, too. Before it’s all over, ‘ey’ll have blue-bloods over all of us. A Grand Duke in Saxmere, a Prince in New Virginia. A Baron in Alud. It’ll be end of us. All because Caine has a taste for Knootian elves.”

The cook shot the man an angry look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jake. It’s got nothin’ to do Knootoss and its elf Prime Minister. It’s the Handies, Jake. They got no respect for the workin’ man and none for religion. Except their market-worship. War’ll be Caine’s fault alright, but not for the reasons you say.”

“Well,” a thin man in a red plaid shirt said, setting down a mug, “you can’t blame the President, Elmer. He ain’t doin’ nothin’ t’people in t’cities didna elect him t’do. Economy’s boomin’, gents. Just not f’us. And what’d church ever do f’you, Elmer? Or you Jake? Naw, I blame t’Excalbians and their fancy-pants, ‘by the grace-of-God’ Emperor and his Panto buddies. They’re spoilin’ for a fight. Caine’s tryin’ to stop it. He went t’the enemy camp, f’heaven’s sake. Give him some credit.”

Tarana

Ambassador Cornelissen looked at the High Queen a bit puzzled that she would come back to him but it was nevertheless a pleasant surprise to get to talk more with such a nice lady. "Yes, Your Majesty?" he asked her while looking up to her.

"Agwene smirked lightly. "This country recognizes extraterritoriality of embassies and diplomatic immunity. It is generally understood that the Knootian embassy is the sight of Knootian...recreations. However, if you come to my court high again, I will send you back to Knootoss and ask for an ambassador capable of showing respect for this country's views and traditions regarding psychosomatic substances."

The Knootian lowered his head, blushing. Suddenly he felt ashamed. "Y.. yes, Your Majesty" he almost whispered, standing about helplessly.

On the A-6 Expressway, Near the Alud State Border

Araceli stood up, looking to the thin man in the red plaid shirt. "Maybe it's not a question of who you blame. Maybe it's a question of what you want. What do you want, sir?"

On the A-6 Expressway, Near the Alud State Border

Karl licked his lips, as he always did when he was deep in thought. He looked at the friendly, though obviously foreign woman and nodded. "Well, t'is about time someone asked us regular folk what we want. I'll tell you what I want, miss. I want them all jus' t'leave us alone. Caine and t'Knootians and t'Excalbians and those Pantos. Jus' leave us t'things t'way they were. What about you fellers?"

Elmer the cook smiled. "Well, Karl, that ain't gonna happen. The Handies never butted in somewhere and backed out without promptin'. Now, what I'd like, that I think is possible, is for the us all to decide - each state, even each county - how we wanna go. Either go down the Handie route or go it alone. Me, I'd have the mountain country here go with Saxmereans. I don't wanna have no king, but I'd rather not have the Handies either."

Jake gave Elmer a sharp look. "Naw, it 'other way 'round, Elmer. I don' wan' a king or a baron. I don' wan' Caine either - din' vote for 'im - but I'll take 'im o'er some fool Panto king. 'Leas' we can vote 'im out soon'r'later. And I don' wan' no Excalbians runnin' 'round 'ere being all bossy 'nd snobby 'nd all. "

To his Excellency President Caine

I speak on behalf of Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Aurora of Lavenrunz when I offer you a possibility to avoid conflict. The services of Lavenrunz are offered to support and ease mediation efforts. I am aware that our nations have had few relations, but perhaps that is for the better as there are less possible entanglements and complications to ensue. Lavenrunz has amiable relations with Knootoss, the Resurgent Dream and Pantocratoria, and therefore our objectivity is assured because it is far from in our interests to see conflict amongst our allies. I applaud your own efforts and it is my desire to assist them to the best of my ability. I myself will come, and would like to receive your permission to move through the blockade to anchor the Imperial destroyer Alfkonur near Saxmere.

respectfully
General Hans Schlabel
Chancellor of Lavenrunz



To his Excellency Governor Peller

I am hoping you will accept my offer of mediation in the current looming conflict that besets you. You surely know that the nation of Lavenrunz has had much history of diplomacy on the international level, and much of that very successful. In addition, we have enough ties to most of the other parties concerned that we would prefer to establish an honorable and mutually beneficial agreement for all concerned. It is my hope that we could arrive in Saxmere following permission by President Caine to admit our ship through the blockade.

respectfully yours
General Hans Schlabel
Chancellor of Lavenrunz

An aide paused in the faintly rocking executive Osprey, shaking his head in surprise at the sleeping Chancellor. He said quietly to one of the plane attendants, "How does he do it? Sleeping like a lamb."
"He always did that." the Imperial Air Force steward replied with a grin. "I was on duty when he was in command of allied air operations in Ienotheisa. He'd always sleep before an op. Nerves of steel."

Umbra, Capital of Saxmere

“Pardon me, President Caine,” Jacqueline Sanders, a Protestant member of parliament, said raising her hand, “but I don’t think we have a basis for negotiations. Our trust in the Confederation has been ruptured. The constitutional guarantees of state sovereignty and autonomy have proven worthless. If the written guarantees of the constitution couldn’t stand your administration, sir, then how can we accept any non-constitutional verbal or written guarantees you might give?”
The M.P. shook her head. “No, the only guarantee we can trust is independence. And, though I’m a Protestant, I’ll gladly take a Catholic monarch who will swear to uphold our traditions, our values and our constitution over hallow promises from Jefferson.”

“Now, now, Jacqui,” Marty Trundlemann, one of the organizers of Saxmereans for Christian Social Concern, said holding up a hand to his ear. “Do you not hear that?” He paused and as silence feel around the table those present could hear the faint sounds of demonstrators outside. “That’ll be Paul Mardan and his group, Jacqui. They’re as anti-Handie as you or I, but they want to stay in the C.S.S. Can you write off their wishes so quickly, without even giving these talks a try?”

“Mr. Trundlemann,” Lieutenant Governor Douglas Aldaris said frowning, “over 60 percent of Saxmereans support independence.”

“Yes,” Marty nodded, “but it will affect 100 percent of them. Do they not count?”

President Caine smiled as he listened to the exchange.

To His Excellency, General Hans Schlabel,

The diplomatic reputation of Lavenrunz precedes you, sir. We would be honoured to host your mediation efforts in our waters. We look forward to joining the negotiations and hope, with your help, to obtain a peaceful resolution.

In order to ensure the success of the negotiations, I urge you to include the uncrowned Grand Duke of Saxmere, Baron James, who has so far been denied entry by the Confederation. He holds the loyalty of the pro-independence bloc and his approval would be needed for any agreement that would win their support. In addition, both Excalbia and Pantocratoria have actively involved themselves in our cause and should be included.

Finally, while the Confederation has blockaded our airspace and ports, it in turn is blockaded by Excalbia. You will likewise need to seek their permission to move through the blockade.

With warmest regards,
Sean Peller,
Governor of Saxmere

To His Excellency, Chancellor Hans Schlabel,

We welcome your noble efforts to help us reach a peaceful resolution to the current crisis. We will, of course, permit your vessel to enter Saxmerean waters. I will personally lead our negotiators at the talks.

A word of caution, however, we are blockaded by the Imperial Navy of Excalbia. So far, they are refusing to allow any friendly or neutral warships through to our waters. You will need to clear their blockade to enter Saxmerean waters. I urge you to deal with them cautiously.

In addition, I have no doubt that the Saxmereans will seek to include the Excalbians and Pantocratorians in these talks. If they do so, I ask only that Knootoss, as our sole ally, be included as well.

Sincerely,
Tom Caine,
President

In the Right Bank Region of Citadel Excalbia

The Chop House was located in an old factory in the industrial area of the capital’s Right Bank region. It’s convenience and fair prices attracted a large number of blue collar workers at lunch. It’s Third World décor and slightly upscale menu attracted a large number of white collar workers from the nearby commercial and governmental office towers and middle-class housing developments for dinner. Because of its diversity, it the kind of place where no one paid much attention to strangers and, unlike the restaurants and cafes of Citadel Island and the commercial heart of the Right Bank, few would recognize or pay attention to current or former cabinet members.

This last fact played a large part in Lord James Reynolds’ decision to invite Sir Harrison Grasis to lunch at the Chop House. Of course, the fact that the place had some of he best steaks in town also played a part in the former intelligence chief’s decision.

After a good deal of small talk, the Treasury Minister looked up as he cut into his well-done steak. “So, Lord James, why did you invite me to lunch today?”

“Well,” the bearded man answered between mouthfuls of bloody, rare steak, “one might ask you why you accepted an invitation from the nation’s leading pariah, Sir Harrison.”

Sir Harrison’s left eye brow shot up his forehead. Lord James laughed and took a sip of his wine. “Don’t worry, my dear Minister, I shall answer both our questions. You accepted my invitation because you hope I wish to offer my help in unseating your coalition partners in the upcoming election.” Lord James took another bite of steak and wiped his mouth. “And I invited you because I do wish to help you save the Empire from the darkness that threatens it.”

Sir Harrison cast the larger man a suspicious glance. “Surely, my Lord, you don’t believe in a Catholic-Imperial conspiracy to institute absolute monarchy…”

Lord James waved his hand and laughed. A deep, hearty laugh. “Of course not. That rot was delivered up for the radical fringe. And coming from a former chief of intelligence, the media has to take it seriously. And that will double or triple the size of the lunatic fringe.” He laughed again. “When you are a pariah, all you have, politically, is the fringe. So, I will continue to spin plausible conspiracies to counter the Government’s favorite conspiracy – this idea of the evil machinations of the Invisible Hand – and do my best to undermine their credibility.”

“If, you don’t believe in this conspiracy either, then what threatens the Empire?”

“This Government’s self-righteous hypocrisy, Sir Harrison. Their holier-than-thou attitude is leading them down the twin paths of leftism and interventionism.” Lord James waved his knife to punctuate his words. “Look at the creeping tax rates, the growing deficit, our intervention in Upper Virginia and our insane interference in the Confederation’s internal affairs. This Government’s irrational fear of the Invisible Hand is pushing towards war with Knootoss. And that would be a disaster.”

Sir Harrison nodded gravely. “I agree, Lord James. But, how can you help us, apart from roiling the lunatic fringe?”

Lord James smiled. “I offer you the same weapon I offered that stupid cow Freedman to combat leftism in Pantocratoria, but which she was too self-righteous to use: the power of scandal. I offer to call into question the character, morals and leadership of every member of the PC and CU leadership.”

Sir Harrison looked flustered. “But, how? Without it pointing back to you? To me? The Excalbian press won’t want to run scandal for the sake of scandal?”

Lord James smiled again. “That’s why I’m flying to Knootoss tonight. They are already hated; let them take the blame for raking the muck. The muck will still stick.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

After praying in the chapel, Emperor David IV thanked Anna for her company and retired to his private study. He soon wandered out on to its balcony and watched the woods and the waters beyond. Soon, he began to pace... and pray. The words of the Psalm weighed on his heart.

An hour later, he walked back inside and picked up the phone. "Lord Corman?"

"Yes, this is the Emperor. I want to have a party. A casual barbeque, I think. Invite the cabinet, the leaders of the opposition and the diplomatic corps. Yes, include the Confederation and the Knootians, if they still have anyone in town."

"Yes, tonight. Thank you."

The Emperor smiled and walked back out to the balcony.

(OOC: While waiting for negotiations to begin, feel free to have your ambassadors drop by the Summer Palace for a barbeque. You can now see and read about the Imperial Preserve Island on our NSWiki pages.)

(OOC to Knoot: Don't forget your submarine!)

On CBN, Newsday With Colin Quinn...

A pretty, but rather bland-looking woman looked into the camera. “Good evening. This Jennifer Saxon sitting in for Colin Quinn. Tonight on Newsday, we have with us via satellite James Kennan, the self-proclaimed Baron of Cambera and the would-be Grand Duke of Saxmere.”

The camera cut to the image of young, pleasant looking man in a well-tailored suit sitting beside a marble fireplace with the flag of Saxmere behind him. The man smiled and nodded. Then, the camera cut back to Jen Saxon.

The woman nodded and tried to look thoughtful. “Let’s start at first principles, shall we, Mr. Kennan? You call yourself the Baron of Cambera, but in reality such titles were abolished in the Confederation, including Saxmere, almost two hundred years ago. There really is no barony of Cambera and, therefore, no Baron of Cambera. Isn’t that right, Mr. Kennan?”

Baron James smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Saxon, but that isn’t quite correct. Actually, the Confederation constitution states that the Confederation shall grant no titles of nobility and that no person holding office shall accept no foreign titles without the consent of Congress. Nothing in the Constitution abolished existing titles.” Baron James leaned towards the camera slightly. “You see, Ms. Saxon, my title, like that of several other Saxmerean barons and lords, predates the Confederation constitution by several hundreds of years. My title is quite proper, I assure you.” He chuckled lightly. “Although I am happy to excuse you from using it, if it makes you uncomfortable, Ms. Saxon. You may call me James, if you like.”

“No need for that, Mr., um, Baron James,” Saxon said trying to recover, “I am happy use your title, if that is what you like.” She smiled as she felt herself regaining her feet. “Now that we’ve settled your title, I would like to ask you about your claim to be a Saxmerean citizen. You were actually born in Citadel Excalbia, weren’t you, sir? As your parents, grandparents and great-grandparents were. Now, since Saxmere has been part of the Confederation, Saxmerean citizens have been Confederation citizens, yet, under Confederation law, you have no claim to either; you were not born in the Confederation and neither of your parents were born here. Isn’t that correct?”

“Again, Ms. Saxon, you’re not quite correct. My claims to Saxmerean citizenship predate the Confederation. You see, my family was involuntarily forced into exile almost two hundred years ago. We have never taken any other citizenship in all that time. So, perhaps, we are stateless. Refugees, if you will. None of my family have been Excalbian citizens; none of us have ever voted in an Excalbian election, held public office in Excalbia or carried Excalbian passports. We have and continued to travel on refugee travel documents as citizens of the former Grand Duchy of Saxmere.” He shook his head and smiled. “Perhaps our claim of citizenship ties to Saxmere aren’t as neat as you – or others might like – but it is real. And we cannot be dismissed simply as Excalbians. We are not Excalbians.”

Saxon nodded, but frowned slightly. “So, tell me, Baron James, why after so long in exile, as you put it, you are so anxious to return to your ancestral throne that you are willing to push the secessionist agenda in Saxmere?”

“Actually, it is not that I am anxious to return to the throne. I am anxious to see my people free and see their will respected by the world community. My people – through their democratically elected parliament – have declared themselves free and independent from the Confederation. There can be no argument that this decision was a democratic one and that it reflects the sovereign will of the people. My goal – or goals, I should say – are first and foremost to support the democratic, sovereign will of my people. They wish to be free and independent and I must do everything I can to ensure that they are. And secondarily, I want to return and live and raise my family in Saxmere as a Saxmerean. Whether the people accept me as their Grand Duke or whether as an ordinary, patriotic citizen.”

The Vatican working party on the CSS situation had been chewing over the information from the various diplomatic representatives and Father Niefto for a day and a half, now. After lunch on that first day, Father Niefto had asked permission to bring in a colleague of his, a Benedictine Sister whom he thought had a knack for synthesis. She was a small, spare Scotswoman from Glasgow, and her roughened complexion and a small scar across the bridge of a slightly misshapen nose seemed to indicate an eventful past life.

Sister Winifred didn’t say much as the situation was hashed and re-hashed. She’d politely acknowledged all those present in a broad Glaswegian burr that hinted of lower-class origins, but Father Niefto had quietly shared information about her distinguished career at Glasgow University, and later at the Pontifical Ecclesiastical Academy, under the sponsorship of her Order’s Superior General. The all-male company was a bit uneasy with her at first, but soon virtually forgot she was there.

On the second day, after the third repetition of a particularly futile summing-up of the many conflicting priorities at stake by the gentle and rather diffident Archbishop Tsarong, she finally lost her patience. She waited for a pause in the discourse (which were becoming increasingly frequent as no really attractive options seemed to present themselves,) and cleared her throat gently. Politely, the distinguished gentlemen turned to her.

“So. What I’m hearing is, then, ye’ve got a right cockup in Excalbia, the Pantocratorians looking tae meddle in Saxmere for the greater glory of God’s Own Elect Emperor, the Handie lot well and firmly dug in tae the CSS an’ throwin’ the cash around freely, and Lavenrunz and the Danaan both looking tae draw a blanket over the embers before they can flare up intae a full-fledged conflagration, aye?

There were startled blinks, a couple of stifled grins, and at least one mildly disapproving look at this pithy summing-up.

“The situation is complex, Sister,” Nataka said smoothly. “But those are the key diplomatic points.”

She nodded, shortly. “Aye, then. An’ from our standpoint, our best outcome wad be tae back the Handies an’ the Panties out a’tegether, and back CSS out o’ the KIST. Then get the CSS an’ Excalbia to work out issues of mutual defence, sovereignty, trade, an’ so on wi’out Knootian influence, give Saxmere a cooling-off period tae reconsider secession wi’out pressure from outside, an’ then let things tak’ their natural course, trusting the good Lord to guide the eventual result?”

There was a short silence while everyone mulled over this. “More or less,” Father Niefto nodded, slowly. “Of course, the Knootian refusal to acknowledge that the Handies are pulling the strings is a complicating factor. They’re doing their best to operate behind the scenes, through local puppets. Technically, Knootoss is simply an ally through the KIST, negotiating commercial, trade, and defense agreements with the CSS government. There is no overt admission that it is essentially the Handies doing business with themselves.”

There was a tacit, common agreement not to pursue the mental picture that rose in several minds at that infelicitous phrasing. Archbishop Tsarong stepped in quickly. “The Handies, like Satan, are endlessly willing to contract with men, providing whatever they desire in the way of wealth and power, in return for the corruption of their souls. I fear that, given the situation in Excalbia right now, they will begin finding ways to plant a foothold there, as well.”

“Aye so,” said Sister Winifred, dryly. “The point is, that’s no’ something that can be addressed diplomatically, is it? The best we can do is make it difficult for them to operate on a large enough scale to make real gains. Forcing them to continually spend large amounts of money and resources on covert operations, while thrusting a spoke in the eventual outcome of those operations, may be the best we can do.”

Archbishop Kronstein, who had stiffened a little disapprovingly at the nun’s rather outspoken manner, had relaxed, and now moved to support her conclusion. “If we try to do more, I fear we will be at risk of making matters worse, and supplying them with, er… ammunition, which can be turned to our discredit.”

Cardinal Martin nodded gloomily. “That is so. But I do not see a way to achieve even that limited outcome, as matters rest, in truth. For all of his lip service to the Church, Andreus is not a man to be influenced by any consideration beyond that of his own aggrandizement.”

“Aye, but I think there’s a way, naetheless,” Sister Winifred said slowly, talking even as the thoughts formed. “Both Lavenrunz and Danaan have already committed themselves to finding a solution tae the problem. If it’s put to them simply and we can get both of them to agree that Knootian and Pantocratorian withdrawal is the key to progress, I think we can trust them tae deal wi’ it, especially if they know that the Church will be supporting that position in Pantocratoria and Excalbia, and, so far as we can, in CSS and Saxmere.”

Cardinal Martin sighed. He knew his position would be the most difficult one under such a programme, walking a fine line among the factions of the Pantocratorian Court and government. He wondered how low a profile he could get away with, but cheered up ever so slightly at the reflection that neither the Emperor, nor his senior government officials had ever yet sought his opinion on any matter of importance, and were unlikely to do so in the future.

Nataka rarely smiled, but he was looking distinctly approving. It was the resolution he’d looked for all along, but they would have resented heavy-handed intervention from the Secretariat trying to force them to that conclusion. Father Niefto had done well to bring in a neutral outsider to move things along. “That might be a feasible option, but it would depend greatly on the temper of the Lavenrunzians and the Danaani. What do you think?” He turned to Kronstein and Ainnle.

Bishop Ainnle nodded. “I know that her Majesty’s government will give us a hearing, definitely. Foreign Minister Brown seems to have a very close working relationship with Prime Minister Lacau, so I’ve no doubt that the matter would be channeled quickly to her Majesty for consideration. She seems keen on getting the matter sorted out, and although I know that the economic interests in the Resurgent Dream are always given consideration, she’s not in any way under their thumb.”

Kronstein was not as sanguine, though he, too, nodded. “I am certain that Minister von Konigsmark will hear our position with attention and interest. And if they agree, our support will be appreciated. But agreement is by no means a sure thing, particularly in light of the Empress’s marriage to Prince Andreus. There may be concern about openly putting pressure on Pantocratorian interests at this junction. Still, we can trust Minister von Konigsmark to relay our concerns to Chancellor Schlabel. And in the end, Lavenrunz will do what is most practical for Lavenrunz.” He smiled thinly. “And in the long run, keeping Knootoss and the KIST out of the Isles region will probably trump pandering to Andreus’ ego.”

Archbishop Tsarong sighed. “It is a partial, imperfect solution at best…”

Nataka nodded. “And may not be realized, even so. But from the standpoint of the Church, we must do the best we can, and leave the outcomes in God’s hands.”

There were nods, around the room, and a couple of murmurs of “Amen.”

The Sostituto nodded respectfully to all of them, then. “It has been a great honor to have your assistance in dealing with this most difficult matter. I will schedule a formal briefing with the Secretary tomorrow, after he has had time to consult with the Holy Father regarding your suggestions, so you may plan on returning to your posts as soon as possible.”

With a prayer, then, they concluded the session. Father Niefto fell into step beside Sister Winifred as the two of them made their way back to the entrance. “My thanks, Sister, for your timely assistance.”

She snorted a little. “Aye, I’ve broken a few logjams in my time, it’s true. You know, Wils, when I got out o’ jail and entered the Church, I thought I’d be finding a haven of rationality in a chaotic world. I near as damn’-all left the convent when I realized that Holy Orders doesnae come with an automatic helping of extra commonsense.” The priest laughed. “And what made you stay, Sister?”

“Auch, well, I figured God could use all the common sense we could find on His side, an’ if I gave up, well, there’d be just that much less, aye?” Her blue eyes were twinkling. “Indeed, Sister. Thank you, again. And good luck with your new appointment at the College.”

“Nae, thank you Wils. It cannae hurt to have had a chance to be in a meeting with Nataka. Ye’re a good friend, and I won’t forget it.” The Benedictine gave him a friendly nod as they reached the door, and parted ways.

Nataka, meanwhile, had returned to his office, and was already writing up a memo to the Papal Apartment, covering the informal conference’s discussions, conclusions, and recommendations. Thus it was that when Cardinal Martin, Archbishops Tsarong and Kronstein, and Bishop Ainnle met in Cardinal Angelini’s office the next morning, there were no surprises.

The genial Cardinal, incurably Italian, spent some time in coffee and gossip before getting to the point, a manner which did him no disservice with Tsarong and Ainnle, but tended to irritate Kronstein (who, however, concealed it admirably.) Finally, he got down to business.

“Well, then, I’ve reviewed matters with the Holy Father, and I think we are all in substantial agreement. The Church’s position in this matter supports a withdrawal of all Knootian and Pantocratorian involvement, repudiation by the Caine government of KIST, and ongoing negotiations within the Isles, facilitated with the help of Lavenrunz and Danaan, if needed, to resolve intra-Isles issues and the problem of Saxmerian independence.” Heads nodded, respectfully.

“To that end, you, Excellency,” he nodded to Kronstein, “will seek a meeting with Madame von Konigsmark, to convey our position, and you, Excellency,” another nod, this time to Ainnle, “will convey the same information to Foreign Minister Brown.” He looked over to Archbishop Tsarong and Cardinal Martin. “You, gentlemen, will respond appropriately if either the Excalbian or Pantocratorian governments seeks information, advice, or involvement of the Church, and otherwise maintain the status quo. My office will handle any possible enquiries from the Saxmerian factions or the CSS.”

By late that afternoon, all four of the Vatican diplomats were on their way back to their posts. By the following day, both Archbishop Kronstein and Bishop Ainnle had sent in requests for meetings with the Lavenrunzian and Danaan Foreign Ministries.

FROM THE IMPERIAL COURT OF CHRIST PANTOCRATOR
Sent on the feast day of St Constantine the Great
In the thirty first year of the reign of the Emperor Andreus
To: His Eminence the Secretary of State of the Holy See

Your Eminence,

His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor requests the immediate return of His Eminence Cardinal Martin, the Holy Father's nuncio, to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. His Eminence's presence is required most urgently; it is His Majesty's desire that His Eminence will be in New Rome to advise him no later than the feast day of St Ivo.

I have the honour to be, with profound respect, Your Most Reverend Eminence's very humble and very obedient servant,

Monsieur le Chevalier du Plains-Demetrine
His Majesty the Emperor's Principal Private Secretary of Court Affairs

In the courtyard outside the History Museum/Royal Palace, cameras ... The protestors bore several huge banners: “No Secession, No Royalty!” read one. Somewhat confusingly, an equally large banner proclaimed “Boot the Knoots! Handies Out of CSS!” A number of smaller signs made it clearly evident that, while the group was anti-secessionist in character, it was also virulently anti-Handie. ...Paul Mardan was a respectable Umbrian businessman and a pillar of the St. Xavier Parish Men’s Club.....He flipped the mike switch. “My friends and neighbors...(etc)

OOC: Um, did you RP this on IRC with Saxmere/CSS, or get their OK to do such a scene? Because if not, this seems like a "RPing the other guys nation" to me. But, if you did either of the two aforementioned things, then its OK. :)

But Paul does have some good ideas...

*goes and makes Hand puppets*

OOC: Um, did you RP this on IRC with Saxmere/CSS, or get their OK to do such a scene? Because if not, this seems like a "RPing the other guys nation" to me. But, if you did either of the two aforementioned things, then its OK. :)

But Paul does have some good ideas...

*goes and makes Hand puppets*
OOC: HVS got Saxmere's permission.

Brother Ilungé Niswayat sorted Monsieur le Chevalier’s correspondence into the pile addressed to Cardinal Angelini, and statted a copy to the Sostituto, Archbishop Nataka. The two men discussed it, albeit briefly, during the daily briefing.

“Eh?” Angelini frowned at it, puzzled, as it came to the top of his pile. “But… isn’t Jules on his way to Pantocratoria now?”

Nataka nodded. “I believe, Eminence, that he caught the 10:50 Panmundos flight from Fiumacino.”

“Well, let them know, then. And be sure that Jules knows immediately. Interesting, this sudden interest in ‘advice.’” The Cardinal chuckled.

While he was speaking to the Cardinal, Nataka was entering instructions into the tag queue on Brother Ilungé’s dataviewer. They appeared almost immediately, in a shaded, blinking icon in the upper corner of the viewer screen:


Please stat an Instacom to His Majesty the Emperor’s Private Secretary, etc., and inform him that His Eminence will be returning to the Vatican Nunciature in Pantocratoria sometime this evening after 21:00.

Also, please stat a copy of M. le Chevalier’s correspondence to His Eminence Cardinal Martin’s datapad with an “attention” flag and a FYI note from the Secretary.


Brother Ilungé asked Father Francis Kwan, the Cardinal’s personal secretary, to walk him through the process of sending an electronic “Instacom” message, as his former duties at the North Atlantic desk had not included external communications. The routing of a copy of the Pantocratorian communication to Cardinal Martin’s personal datapad was easy enough, of course, since it was intranetwork.

“Not difficult,” explained Father Kwan. “You call up the Instacom utility here, and select your “outgoing” template; in this case “Sostituto Official.” Then type the message here. When you’re done, hit the “hold” icon and call up the “dispatch” subroutine. Since you don’t have an Instaroute code for the addressee, you need to do a search. Type in ‘Pantocratoria’,” he paused while Brother Ilungé followed the directions.

“Select ‘Imperial Court’ from the comnet options. Hmmm… they don’t supply a public address directory, so you’ll just have to type in M. le Chevalier’s name and title. The originating code will alert their system to route it appropriately. Then you hit the ‘attach’ icon and when the ‘send?’ query comes up, just select ‘yes/copy.’ That will route copies into his Excellency’s ‘current’ file, your own local file cache, and the server file system.”

“I see,” Brother Ilungé nodded. “It is very intuitive. Thank you, Father.”

Father Francis nodded. “Yes, it’s one of the parts of the system that actually works pretty reliably. Sister Mary Elizabeth and her crew spent months chasing the bugs and re-working to get our internal system compatible with the Interworld Net.” They both refrained from comment on the parts of the system that were not yet as reliable, in charity to their underfunded, overworked colleagues in the Office of Information Management.

Thus, within a few moments, the message was routed to the Pantocratorian Imperial Court:



Monsieur le Chevalier du Plains-Demetrine
Principal Private Secretary of Court Affairs

Monsieur—

I am happy to be able to inform you that his Eminence Cardinal Martin, the Apostolic Nuncio to Pantocratoria, has already completed consultation at the Secretariat and is expected to arrive at the Nunciature some time this evening after 21:00. We have relayed your correspondence to his Eminence, and are confident that he will contact you to arrange an appointment at his Majesty’s convenience.

In Christ,
+Archbishop Tenda Nataka
Sostituto
Secretariat of State to the Apostolic See



While Cardinal Martin’s driver stowed his bags, the Nuncio automatically turned on his datapad’s communication circuit. And found it signaling him with an “attention” flag under the Secretary of State’s sigil. With a little blink of surprise, he called up the message and found himself staring at the copy of his Majesty’s Private Secretary’s correspondence.

God, it appeared, did indeed have a sense of humor. With a wry chuckle, he sent a “received and understood” message to Angelini

"His Most Reverend Eminence, Jules Cardinal Martin, the Holy Father's nuncio to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator!" announced the page who opened the door to the Sun King Room in the French Suite at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator to admit Cardinal Martin. The Emperor was standing by the window, gazing out over the gardens, basking in the afternoon sun. This room most frequently served as his office - a large, ornately carved and lovingly hand painted wooden desk sat underneath a wall-sized painting of Louis XIV of France on the wall opposite to the window. There were two comfortable-looking lounges in the office as well - comfortable furniture being somewhat of a rarity in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, were form was all too frequently valued over function. The Emperor turned to the Cardinal, and motioned to a couch, as the page closed the door behind him.

"Please, Monseigneur le Cardinal, sit down." the Emperor said. He sat down on the couch opposite, and leaned forward to speak. "You and I share something in common, a calling from God. You were called to become a priest; I was called to be Emperor, to protect, to nourish, and to defend my Christian people. Everyday, I pray that I have been worthy of that calling, that I am worthy of it, and that I shall continue to be worthy of that calling in the future. Everyday I pray for my people, that they will be secure, that they will be happy, that they will find the same comfort in Christ that I find, and that they will be spared the torments which beset so much of the rest of humanity, the machinations of evil, as manifested in such organisations as the Order of the Invisible Hand."

"I pray for the souls of the people I've lost. My wife, my mother, my father. My calling cost my wife very dearly, and I pray that she forgive me for endangering her by loving her." the Emperor said. "I pray for my mother's soul, that God forgive her for the role she played in that jealous cabal which poisoned my wife for years. And I pray for my father's soul, that God forgive him for not being worthy of his calling, for neglecting his sacred duty as Emperor of Pantocratoria. And I pray, Monsieur le Cardinal, that some day, my son doesn't have to pray for me for the same reason as I pray for my father."

"I pray that when the time comes for him to take my throne, he doesn't find his people victims of the plague of the Invisible Hand, or any other evil. I pray that he will reign over a free, Christian people, secure in their homes, happy with their lots, free from the scourge of war, and from the shadow cast by the forces of evil which exist in the world." the Emperor explained. "Just as you have a calling, monsieur, so do I. I am called to ensure that the Pantocratorian people are never victims to that vile menace. I am called to protect and defend them. I must do everything I can to stop the Order of the Invisible Hand from reaching Pantocratoria and its people, and from corrupting our allies. Do you understand, Monsieur le Cardinal? Do you understand why I must support the cause of the Grand Duke of Saxmere? Do you, as a fellow man called to a higher vocation by God, do you understand why the Order of the Invisible Hand must be stopped?"

Cardinal Martin bowed, murmured “Your Majesty,” and seated himself, listening carefully. Occasionally he nodded encouragingly as the Emperor spoke, but for the most part he simply concentrated on what Andreus was saying.

His head canted slightly as the Pantocratorian reached his peroration. Most of his contact with Andreus had been in formal settings, when matters were controlled by court etiquette, virtually scripted. The Emperor was usually as tightly controlled as the circumstances, but now he seemed almost agitated. There could be a number of explanations, of course, but… had Andreus finally realized the tenuous nature of the limb he had ventured onto? That would have good and bad implications. Good, in that it might make the Emperor open to potential solutions, if presented with sufficient delicacy.

Bad, in that people feeling anxious about something occasionally tended to make—hasty—decisions. Or turn obstinate and stubborn. And an Emperor’s hasty decisions, or stubbornness, had exponentially greater impact than the same responses in a mere citizen. Still, it would not do to make assumptions. Andreus’ cares were legion, this anxiety could easily have another source.

When Andreus finished, the Nuncio nodded, slowly, and selected his words carefully.

“Your Majesty is aware, naturally, that the Holy Father has grave misgivings regarding the Order of the Invisible Hand. The Church is extremely concerned about the moral problems implicated in the Order’s growing political and economic influence in the North Atlantic region.”

"I am aware of the Holy Father's misgivings." the Emperor nodded. "This new Knootian colonialism through the Order of the Invisible Hand... if allowed to run its course, will end by leaving the nations of the Atlantic which fall under its spell even worse off than the peoples of Knootoss' colonies from centuries past. At least then they didn't couch their exploitation with ideological terms and nonsense economic theory, and it was easier to see it for what it was."

"What worries me the most..." the Emperor started. "...is how damned willing everybody seems to be to go to war over this mess. The Excalbian navy has been deployed, as you are no doubt aware. Knootian vessels have put to sea, I know that much, although whether they really intend to run the blockade, or indeed, whether they already have without the Excalbians knowing, I don't know. Their allies have ships sailing back and forth waiting for something to happen. The Confederation is militarily blockading Saxmere in an attempt to brow beat the Saxmereans into backing down from their act of secession. Everybody has their pieces on the board... everybody except me."

The Emperor looked up at the Cardinal with a meaningful, penetrating gaze. His usual gaze was enough to make whomever it was directed at squirm uncomfortably, but his expression was different, almost imploring its target to do something, rather than judging him as it normally seemed to do.

"I don't want to put my pieces on the board, Monsieur le Cardinal." the Emperor said, genuinely. "The people of Saxmere have spoken, they want to secede, they want their Grand Duke back, they want the Order gone. Why does any more need to be done? It shouldn't have to be! I don't want to have to send my country into war, following down the path Knootoss and Excalbia have laid out to slaughter... it has seen too much slaughter in Syskeyia already. It seems like the only other government in the Atlantic interested in bringing an end to these tensions without bloodshed is my daughter in law's in Lavenrunz. I trust in their intentions, but I still worry about the outcome. Monseigneur le Cardinal, a supportive word from the Holy Father could have a profound impact, on the decisions made at the negotiations, on the national psyche of my people, and the people of Saxmere..."

The Cardinal’s face, already serious, became grave as the Emperor spoke of the military situation. “Indeed, indeed,” he murmured.

He canted his head slightly, and his brows drew together a little as he listened, occasionally nodding. It was more than useful to have Andreus clarify his motivations and perceptions. It was one of Martin’s strong points as a diplomat that he listened, wholeheartedly, rather than trying to listen and formulate a response at the same time. This sometimes made him less quick and nimble in dialogue, but it usually meant that his understanding was deeper and more complete when he did respond.

“Your Majesty will forgive me, I hope, if I seem discursive or appear to digress from the extremely important points you are making. I assure you, indeed, it is necessary, that we have a complete understanding—myself of your interests and concerns for Pantocratoria, and you of the Apostolic See’s views on this matter. As you are aware, I have recently been in Rome to discuss just this matter.”

He sighed regretfully, “Unfortunately, we were unable to have this discussion before I went to Rome. Well. That is a pity, but it need not concern us overly. I believe I can be of assistance to your Majesty, in any case.” He paused a moment, organizing his thoughts.

“Like yourself, Majesty, the Holy See examines many factors in reviewing international disputes. The stated reasons for the dispute; economic and political dynamics which may be driving unstated (and sometimes more powerful) reasons, the personality of the individuals making key decisions, and not least of all, the cultural and historical character of the nations and peoples involved.”

“Pantocratoria is highly respected by the Apostolic See, not just for the depth of its devotion to the Church, and the quality of life that it makes possible for its citizens, but also for its quite extraordinary—even unique—ability to ensure these things, as well as a high level of political and social self-determination, in the context of a most ancient and respected monarchy. Truly, a magnificent accomplishment, and the House of Capet is rightly esteemed by the Church for its commitment to perpetuating this system.”

“I mention this, because while this cultural excellence is, naturally, a matter of custom to you; it is the day to day reality you live with, it is by no means universal among monarchies, even those of a constitutional nature.”

“It astonishes some that the Church, with its regard for the political, social, and economic self-determination of peoples—as affirmed repeatedly in her communications—is also, on occasion, supportive of individual state political systems that have evolved from absolute authoritarianism, or retain vestigial elements of authoritarian rule. Such as, for example, the constitutional monarcy.”

“No form of state organization devised and carried out by man can be other than flawed. And the particular success of any state in protecting the rights of its people to political, social and economic self-determination is intimately related to the character of her leaders. Systems designed to assure such rights can be subverted by leaders of authoritarian character. Structures designed to preserve powerful central authority can be mitigated and liberalized by leaders of democratic character.”

“It is also true that the culture and tradition of an individual state can play a strong role in assuring the rights of its people to political, social, and economic self-determination. A nation, such as—for example—Pantocratoria—which has over generations conditioned its citizens to expect and value political and economic self-determination even in the presence of a highly influential Monarchy, cannot easily be subverted to rigid authoritarianism even within the structure of traditionally ‘authoritarian’ institutions.”

“All of this, Majesty, is by way of saying that while the Church is strongly supportive of the admirable constitutional monarchy in Pantocratoria, she is, I hope understandably, wary of the potential impact of re-imposing constitutional monarchy upon a people who rejected it centuries ago, and who have for generations been conditioned to the structural guarantees of a fully participatory government. I cannot overstate the fervency of the Holy See’s support of the people of Saxmere in their determination to reject the vicious economic authoritarianism of the Invisible Hand, but the Holy Father does have concerns regarding the restoration of the Grand Duchy. They amount, in effect, to this:

“Is the vote of the people of Saxmere for the restoration of the monarchy representative of a sincere and widely-held desire of the Saxmerian people, after mature consideration and with full knowledge of the complexities of such a fundamental transition, to place themselves under a form of government which contains elements of the authoritarianism they themselves rejected in the past? Or is it, rather, perceived as the quickest and easiest means to the end of preventing the Order of the Invisible Hand from gaining a political and economic foothold among their civil institutions?”

“As your Majesty well knows, the Church is ever vigilant against the evils that result from the philosophy of ‘the end justifies the means.’ And while the Order of the Invisible Hand represents a grave moral and social threat, the Holy Father is deeply concerned that, in fighting that threat, we do not put the Church in the position of condoning or even facilitating actions that can ultimately result in equally damaging effects. Our experiences during the long fight against Communism revealed the dangers in condoning actions that, while conceived from the loftiest motives, often resulted in opening the door to appalling evils. The revelations of death squads, disappearances, vicious repression and authoritarianism that evolved under regimes initially empowered to fight the communist menace provided a deep and painful lesson.”

“Now, this is not to say that the placement of the Grand Duke upon the board (to use your Majesty’s metaphor) in the current North Atlantic game is necessarily a bad thing. It increases the range of potential resolutions and directions. And, while some of those directions may be undesirable, some are not. And the very existence of a greater range of options gives all parties concerned more maneuvering room, if you understand me. And this is definitely a good thing. When people feel their options are constrained, they often tend to make—ill-considered—decisions. From that standpoint, the presence of the Grand Duke must be regarded as a positive factor, whether he ultimately becomes ruler of Saxmere, or not.”

The Cardinal’s brows drew together again. “However, while such may not have been your Majesty’s intent, the fact of the Grand Duke’s presence in Pantocratoria, and Pantocratoria’s initial support for his restoration, appear to have given the other, ah, players— the impression that he is ‘your’ piece on the board. In that respect, your Majesty’s options are already constrained to some degree. You cannot openly repudiate him—and indeed, that would be most undesirable from the standpoint of the Holy See, as well. On the other hand, the perception of your support for him has, in effect, seated you at the table among the players, and given the other players a specific impression of how you wish to achieve your agenda.”

“Now, as regards the gravamen of your Majesty’s agenda, the Holy See is entirely in agreement with you—we, too, wish to limit and, if possible, reverse and eliminate the pernicious influence of the Invisible Hand in the North Atlantic. As to the means…” the Cardinal smiled and shrugged, suddenly, a very French combination. “..now there, who is to say? Everyone believes they know your Majesty’s intent, is it not so? It is that apparent intent—the restoration of the monarchy to Saxmere—that provides considerable impetus to the Caine government to negotiate. Good. The more things that pull them to the table, the better.”

“So. We have what everyone believes. The Church, based upon our considered policies, will not openly support the Grand Duke unless clear evidence is provided that the motivations of the Saxmerian separatists are animated primarily by an informed and well-considered desire to adopt that particular form of government, regardless of the outcome of other political and economic threats. If that were to become the case, of course, we should most definitely be pleased to express strong support for a Grand Duchy.”

“Absent that evidence—and a hasty vote in the aftermath of highly disputed CSS elections and political turmoil does not constitute such evidence in the eyes of the Holy See—we cannot express such support.”

“On the other hand, neither will we express condemnation. And it will be seen, by our clear support of multi-party negotiations, that we are strongly concerned both to de-escalate the military aspects of the situation, and to resolve the political and economic aspects. We will make no secret, either, of our position that the Knootian-facilitated intervention on behalf of the Invisible Hand must cease, that the financial, political, and propaganda support of such parties must be removed from the Isles, and that CSS’s participation in KIST should be withdrawn. Our diplomatic representatives to Lavenrunz and the Resurgent Dream will be making this position clear even now, I believe.”

“Thus, we enthusiastically support the goal we share with your Majesty’s government, and we refrain from indicating any overt lack of support for the Grand Duke, as a way of facilitating his continued presence on the board as an incentive to negotiation. By maintaining the apparent posture that the other parties already assume you have taken, your government can exercise a crucial and, I believe, beneficial influence on the course of events. No one will be certain, you see, just how far Pantocratoria may be prepared to go in support of its apparent choice for a method of resolving the situation. While we completely support your Majesty’s very wise aversion to any Pantocratorian military involvement, the presence of a state with a formidable, uncommitted military capability, provides, shall we say, a certain amount of incentive.”

“In the mean time, without distancing yourself or your government from the Baron in any way, you also have the freedom to ensure the flexibility of your internal response to any of the possible outcomes to this situation.”

The Cardinal bowed his head. “Forgive my trespass upon your Majesty’s most valuable time with such a lengthy disquisition. I would not do less than the best in my power to ensure that I have made every effort to present all relevant information, and completely convey the thinking and positions of the Holy See in this matter.”

Aboard INV Spectre, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

CDR Robyn Torvalde projected an air of calm confidence even as she tightly gripped the arm of her command chair. She could feel the butterflies churning her stomach, but it just would not do to let her crew see her nervousness.

“Tac, report,” she said with authority.

LT Mike Talon checked his board and looked over his shoulder. “We’re rapidly closing on Yutland, Ma’am. Already well within range. No further contacts on the tin can from either our Osprey flights or our own sonar…”

Torvalde nodded. “Range to Yutland, Helm?”

“We’ll be on them in less than ten minutes, Skipper,” CPO Ilgvar Jansons said without taking his eyes off his controls, “but they’re only about five minutes outside of Confed waters.

“Comm,” Torvalde said, “send our message.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Crewman Beth Rinken nodded as she hit the transmit key.

From: Commanding Officer, INV Spectre, Squadron 341
To: Commanding Officer, M/V Yutland

Captain,
In accordance with international law of the sea, you are requested and required to come about and hold your current position in international waters in preparation for boarding. Our intentions are to conduct a routine search of your vessel for weapons and contraband and to verify your ship’s registry and other documentation. Please signal your acknowledgement of this message.

Regards,
Commander Robyn Torvalde,
Commanding

Aboard INV Landing, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

RADM Jeter Taliefero sipped his coffee and tried to look unruffled. Admiral Kunle had always seemed so serene and graceful on the eve of combat; Taliefero hope he could look half as sure as Kunle had.

CAPT Jen Wells stepped out of the bridge of flagship and joined the strike force commander at the railing. “All of our Wraith squadrons are in position, sir,” she said matter-of-factly, “two of the four merchantmen have already responded and are preparing to be boarded. Once the ships are at full-stop, our planes will drop drones to probe under the ships and look for wayward sub.”

“Very good, Captain. Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

The gardens behind the Summer Palace had been quickly decorated with bunting, flowers and lanterns. Tables had been laid out and covered with white linen. A string quartet had been hastily been called and was softly playing by the time the first guests began to arrive.

As those early arrivals were entertained and served wine and hors d'oeuvres, Empress Elizabeth nervously waited for her husband. The Emperor had been moody and depressed for weeks. And now, with no warning, he was throwing a party. Rather than being cheered, Elizabeth found herself fearing even more for her husband.

The Emperor strode into the sitting room wearing a pair of khakis and blue cotton shirt. He smiled, somewhat weakly, and bent over to give his wife a quick kiss. “Good evening, my dear,” he said, sounding tired but lighter than he had sounded in weeks.

The Empress stood and embraced her husband. She pulled away after a moment and smoothed out her simple blue silk dress. “You sound cheery, David,” she said warily. “What happened to bring this sudden change?”

David shrugged. “I went to pray with Anna in the family chapel and met the chaplain there. He read from the Psalms and it weighed on my heart for hours.” David smiled and took the Empress’ hand. “It led me to think that I may have been trying too hard to control the outcome of this crisis. I need only to do what the Lord shows me is right and leave the results up to His divine will.”

The Emperor’s eyes took on a distant look for a moment, then he turned back to his wife. “I won’t lie and tell you that I’m not still worried about this and not still… angry. About Bishop Purins. About Caine. About the Order gaining a foothold… About… well a lot of things.” He shrugged again. “But, it will do no good for me to brood over it. This… party is my way of trying to show that I intend to put the brooding aside.”

Elizabeth smiled and touched her husband’s cheek. Part of her was relieved, but she still could not dismiss her unease.

Meanwhile, in their suite, Prince Joseph was waiting for Anna. He was anxious to know what she thought of his father’s sudden change in attitude.

The Empress and the Prince were not the only ones confused and somewhat worried. As the Imperial Cabinet arrived, Sir Harrison Grasis huffed impatiently. “A waste,” he murmured to his Freedom Party colleague, Thalia DeSoto, “lavish spending on the eve of an unnecessary war and all at the whim of the Emperor.”

DeSoto nodded by held her tongue. Sir Patrick Yarnoth, the Progressive Conservative Minister of Commerce, overheard and gave Grasis a quizzical look. “Sir Harrison, are you criticizing our policy towards the C.S.S. and Knootoss?” The younger man whispered.

Sir Harrison nodded cautiously. “Have you no misgivings, Sir Patrick?”

“Of course I do,” the man whispered, “but this isn’t the place to discuss them.”

“Agreed. Shall we meet later?”

Yarnoth nodded.

Defence Minister Lord Yonis Halton, too, was agitated as he walked into the gardens, but for different reasons. The Imperial Navy was about to intercept commercial ships that might be providing cover to a Knootian submarine. It was a dangerous moment and not a moment he wanted to spend at the Summer Palace. He humphed as he walked, well ahead of Grasis, but held his own counsel.

Lady Christina Freedman, contrary to several of her ministers, was grateful for the diversion. In keeping with the spirit of the evening the Imperial Chancellor wore a short khaki skirt, low boots and white shirt. The spring breeze felt refreshing and she was looking forward to both a pleasant party and an opportunity to observe the Emperor and her ministers. Both would help her gage her next move.

Anna arrived a little later, wearing a knee high blue skirt and a delicate white blouse. The fact that she was obviously into her second trimester had made Anna begin to feel a little insecure about her appearance, and she was obviously trying very hard to look good anyway. She quickly moved to Joseph's side, took his hand, and leaned her head on Joseph's shoulder.

The Pantocratorian ambassador to Excalbia, the Marquis de Nouvelle Thessalonique, arrived. For some reason, his version of informal dress was New Rome court wear (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/New_Rome_Court_Fashion). Seeing Joseph and Anna standing to one side, he walked over to the couple and bowed deeply and somewhat melodramatically, as the Marquis was want to do. It was pretty obvious why Pantocratoria tended to deal with Reverend Donnelly in New Rome as its primary point of contact with Excalbia - not that the Marquis was incompetent, far from it, but he could be an absolute bore.

"Your Highnesses, how agreeable to see you here." he said. His English was perfect but his tone was self-important.

"Monseigneur le Marquis." Anna acknowledged the ambassador, lifting her head from Joseph's shoulder. She glanced over to the Emperor, and continued, hoping to rid herself of the middle-aged aristocrat as soon as possible. "His Majesty has been looking forward to your arrival."

"Has he? Well then I mustn't keep His Majesty waiting! I pleasure to see Your Highnesses again." the Marquis nodded, practically bristling with self-obsessed pleasure at the thought that the Emperor had been looking forward to speaking with him. He made his way over to the Emperor and the Empress.

"Your Majesties," he said, bowing again. "I trust you are both well? This island must do wonderful things for the constitution, it is quite delightful."

OOC: Related to the theme of the thread, but not ICly really important (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=8961342#post8961342) - will respond a bit later today if all goes right.

Araceli nodded. "So why don't you demand it? This is a democracy, isn't it?" She smiled lightly as she looked from person to person. "Decisions about your lives shouldn't be made in Knootcap or Citadel Excalbia or New Rome. They are your lives."
...
Lady Stoiries ni Dougal, the Danaan ambassador to Excalbia, finally arrived at the barbeque. The Nocker woman was dressed in a jet black pantsuit with a red blouse. She was pretty enough, though her knuckles were gnarled and bent as were those of all Nockers. Her face was marked by dark black swirls in complex patterns.

The Emperor listened to Cardinal Martin's explanations in silence, nodding to indicate that he understood here and there. It seemed to him that while a few points had been missed, or rather, a few of the Cardinal's points differed from his own view, on the whole, they were more or less speaking the same language. The Emperor inwardly regarded with some amusement the arrogance of the Vatican's position on the vote which had seceded from the Confederation and invited the Grand Duke to return - how convenient it was to be able to respond to every controversial referendum with a remark to the effect that the issues involved hadn't been properly considered. He wondered to himself with some amusement what the Vatican's reaction might be if he were to respond to the election of Leo XIV's successor, when the next conclave sat, with a letter to the effect that the cardinals had been overly "hasty" in their election.

Naturally, none of these thoughts appeared on the Emperor's face. He merely listened and nodded. When the Cardinal had come to an end, he spoke in a thoughtful voice.

"Your explanation has been both clear and thorough, Monseigneur le Cardinal, and I thank you." the Emperor said. "I would ask you to convey to the Holy Father my regards, and explain to him my motivations and my desires, so that he may better understand Pantocratoria's actions in this affair. Tell His Holiness that if he should have any concerns, it would be better if he addressed them with me through you. Rome and New Rome should make better use of such a capable go between as Your Eminence, and I shall make sure that in the future, discussions like this one are more frequent, and hopefully, about matters less pressing and urgent."

The Cardinal bowed. “It is my honor, your Majesty, to be able to provide a conduit for effective communications between your Majesty and the Holy See. I look forward to being able to serve in the future.”

He smiled. “And on a less formal note, but one I hope your Majesty will find agreeable, I was able to visit Father Darcy, briefly, while I was in Rome. He will be out of the hospital very shortly—in fact, may be so even now. His doctors believe he will be able to return to Pantocratoria within a month or so, allowing some time for additional recovery at the Dominican motherhouse. He asked me to convey his respectful greetings and warmest regard to you, and to let you know that you and your family have never been absent from his thoughts and prayers.”

Cardinal Martin decided, with a senior diplomat’s latitude, not to relay what Father Darcy had said regarding the Princess Irene. The priest had expressed deep concern for her in her exile, especially with the matter of her relationship with Father Guillot still pending before the Benedictine Superior General, to whom Guillot’s Abbot had referred it. The most likely resolution would be for him to be reassigned to other duties, possibly within a cloister. But the decision had not yet been made. Father Darcy, whose spiritual outlook was always a little unique, had expressed ambivalence.

“In fact, Jules, I am somewhat concerned that her only caring human relationship not be denied her just now; though of course the damage of the relationship itself must be considered. Nevertheless, poor unhappy woman, she is so very alone, without trust for any… It cannot be other than devastating for her just now. Even illicit comfort is some comfort, in the immediate term. Though of course I agree it must be dealt with expeditiously. Still, I hope it will not be so managed as to exacerbate the problem for her Highness; her soul is already in such grave danger.”

Well aware of the implications of such a scandal erupting into the public consciousness just now, the Cardinal would say nothing to bring the matter to the Emperor’s official attention. Officially, he was unaware of the problem. Unofficially? He kept his own counsel, of course. He might, or might not, be aware of Princess Irene’s goings-on with her Confessor. In any case, now was most emphatically not the time. So he merely conveyed the most innocuous of Father Darcy’s messages, and rose, with a bow.

“Your Majesty has been most generous with your time. I am, naturally, at your service for future consultation.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Joseph smiled to see his wife and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she leaned into his. “You look lovely, Anna,” he whispered softly.

The prince stiffened as the Pantocratorian ambassador approached. He nodded slightly to acknowledge the Marquis. Before he could greet the man, Anna had deftly sent him on his way to the Emperor. He turned and smiled at his wife. “Well done, Anna,” he suppressed a laugh as he spoke, “though my mother may not agree.”

After the ambassador was well of earshot, Joseph leaned his head close to Anna. “Anna, I have been meaning to ask you what you think of my father’s sudden change in demeanor? He’s gone from sullen to hosting a party in the space of a day. I know you were with him earlier in the day; do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Emperor David IV looked over the anxious crowd with satisfaction. He was pleased that the guests had assembled so quickly. And, despite the palpable sense of foreboding, it felt good to hear the murmur of small talk and light conversations. It seemed almost a tonic to him.

He spotted the approaching Pantocratorian ambassador out of the corner of his eye and leaned over to his wife. “The Marquis de Nouvelle Thessalonique is heading our way, Elizabeth.”

The Empress continued to smile and nod at various guests as she whispered to her husband, “Certainly to be expected, David.”

The Emperor nodded. It was not that he disliked the Ambassador. It was just that he was so filled with a sense of his own importance.

The Emperor and Empress smiled and nodded as the Marquis approached. “Monsieur le Marquis,” the Emperor said, “it is a pleasure to see you. The Empress and I are well and we trust you are as well.”

Empress Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, the Island is wonderful, isn’t, Monsieur le Marquis? It has always been our favorite retreat; we find it quite refreshing.”

“We are both pleased that you could join us,” the Emperor said, “I am sure that recent events have kept you quite busy.”

In another part of the garden, Lady Christina Freedman paused to gently tug on the branch of a lilac bush and take a sniff of the fragrant plant. The gardens were lovely, as usual, and despite the somewhat tense atmosphere, people were mingling and talking. It all felt… rejuvenating.

The Chancellor released the lilac with a final whiff and sighed. It was not, certainly, that she was fearful or worried; she trusted her people, the military, the Emperor, even the hand of divine providence and believed that, somehow, a solution would be found for the present crisis. Rather, it seemed to her that there had simply been too many crises. Too many burdens. And she was young and still had dreams. Soon, she would have to choose; the elections were coming and she could not simply ignore them.

Meanwhile, Sarah Harrington, the Deputy Minister of State, spotted Lady Stoiries ni Dougal, the Danaan ambassador. Sarah approached the Nocker woman, her blue and yellow flower print dress blowing slightly in the breeze. She bowed to the woman with a smile. “My Lady, welcome. It is nice to see you. How are things in the Danaan Embassy these days? Nearly as busy as in the Ministry of State I would wager.”

Lord Yornis Halton, the Minister of Defence, was clearly not in the partying mood as he somberly sipped at his drink. He looked at Cummings’ deputy greeting the Danaan ambassador and was relieved to see some work getting done. Now, if only he could spot the Lavenrunzian ambassador, the night might not be a waste of time.

Not far from where the Emperor stood talking with an ambassador, Presiding Bishop Donald Slesers stood talking with a cluster of his fellow bishops, including Bishop Blaine Repse, the new Secretary of the Synod, and the former Secretary and current Bishop of Citadel Excalbia, Graham Spelve. John Cardinal Friesz, the Catholic Archbishop of Citadel Excalbia, approached and joined the group.

Slesers made small talk for a few moments, then leaned towards Cardinal Friesz. “John, do you know if Archbishop Tsarong is coming?”

Friesz shock his head. “I haven’t seen him; he’s only just returned from the Holy See. Why, if I may ask?”

Slesers lowered his voice. “I have two matters to discuss with him. The current crisis, of course. And, the future of the Excalbian church.”

Stoiries snorted lightly. "It's a furbin madhouse, Miss Harrington. The instructions we get from the home government were changing almost by the hour until the end of court today when we got something straight from Her Majesty."
...
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, Her Majesty was looking out over the Marble City from the palace balcony. To her right was High Priestess Helga Mountainsoul, the Danaan High Priestess of the Resurgent Dream. On her left was Pankul Millstone, the nobby little Nocker who was the current Religion Minister. The three were waiting for the Vatican Legate, who had wished to express Rome's opinion on these matters upon his return.

"What do you think he'll say?" asked Helga calmly.

"Mostly what we're saying." Pankul said with a shrug. "Only difference might be some dreck about trying to get the Order banned in the Confederacy."

Agwene frowned a little. "I am somewhat puzzled why people see a continuing need to bring this matter before me. I thought my statement at court was clear enough."

"Maybe the Vatican expects Hofburg to invite us to participate in the talks?" Helga suggested.

Agwene shook her radiantly shining head, tucking an obsidian lock idly behind her ear. "Maybe. I don't see the purpose behind such a move on the part of Lavenrunz, unless Aurora simply means it as a gesture of goodwill. But Rome might know something we don't. They do have access to the Catholic Hierarchy in Lavenrunz."

Helga nodded. "We do have contact with the Danaan hierarchy in Lavenrunz. I was just on the phone with High Priest Horst Fischer. However, that is an admittedly smaller resource."

"Just a tad." Pankul snorted sarcastically. After a moment, all three fell into silent reflection while awaiting the Legate.

Excalbia

Sister St. John, a Sister of St. Joseph from the Holy Spirit Convent in Citadel Excalbia, had been added to Sister Magda Suldesova’s staff when the administrator had reorganized the previous year. She’d proved a most capable secretary and office manager, and both Sister Magda and Archbishop Tsarong relied heavily on her skills. So when she greeted the Archbishop on his return to the Legation offices, her murmur of “A rather urgent opportunity, Excellency,” received prompt attention, even though there was already a considerable pile of work awaiting the Legate.

“Yes, Sister?”

“Cardinal Friesz wanted you to be aware of this, Excellency,” she handed him a hardcopy from the cache of his official e-mail.

He scanned it quickly, frowning a little.

“A Royal reception at the Preserve? Today? That’s rather short notice…”

The Sister nodded. “Indeed, yes, Excellency. It caught everyone off-guard, especially since his Majesty was assumed to be taking a short holiday in privacy with his family.”

The Archbishop considered for a moment. Cardinal Friesz was a shrewd and levelheaded leader of the local Church; he had excellent relations with the Excalbian Church and a good feel for local politics. He and his staff were a reliable source of information for the Legation, and Tsarong had never regretted acting on his occasional suggestions. He made a sudden decision, nodded.

“All right, Sister. Have the car pick me up at the Residence door in,” he scanned his watch, “..twenty minutes. Go ahead and make arrangements for me to get to the Island, and re-schedule my meeting with Sister Magda for tomorrow morning, please. Oh, and could you be so kind as to call Father Michael at the Hospital, and ask him to take the evening service for me? Work out a time when I can do a round of visits with him later this week.”

“Certainly, your Excellency.”

Tsarong returned to the Residence to change his more casual working attire for the long, magenta-piped cassock, magenta cummerbund and zucchetto, and formal pectoral cross of his court attire. The car was waiting for him when he finished, and transport to the Island was smooth. A functionary of the Royal household met him, and directed him to the reception.

He approached the Emperor and Empress, first, and tendered formal greetings from the Holy See, as well as his own good wishes for the family’s enjoyment of their lovely island retreat, and his pleasure at being able to visit. It was a brief, formal, but cordial conversation, appropriate to the occasion. As another guest approached the royal couple, he wandered unobtrusively away, keeping an eye out for the Cardinal’s scarlet zucchetto.

The Resurgent Dream

Bishop Ainnle was a bit surprised when his formal request for a meeting with Foreign Minister Brown was met with the response that the Queen herself would receive him, with her Minister of Religion and the Danaan High Priestess. Here was a pretty kettle of fish! Of course, as he’d mentioned in Rome, Danaan approaches to diplomacy tended to be somewhat unusual.

Apparently, her Majesty was, indeed, taking a personal interest in the matter. If so, he wondered, would the dry little briefing he’d prepared for the Foreign Minister suffice? He took time to review the transcript of the official statement Agwene had made, while he was in Rome. Nicely put, he thought. The Queen was clearly doing her best to extricate the Resurgent Dream from the stickier aspects of the conflict, shifting to the status of non-aligned broker without repudiating either her Knootian alliances or the encouragingly friendly relations with other North Atlantic powers.

Well, if she felt that the Vatican position warranted her personal attention rather than the ordinary channels through the Foreign Ministry, he’d better be prepared for questions. It was a good thing he’d had a chance to get a few private words with Archbishop Kronstein while they were waiting for their respective flights.

Although an experienced and accomplished diplomat, if Bishop Ainnle had a weakness it was evident only in the occasional lack of notice he took regarding his own physical appearance. It was not until his car was actually pulling up at the Palace that he thought to check the mirror. With a little cluck of concern, he hastily combed his scanty white fringe of hair, straightened his magenta zucchetto, and settled his pectoral cross carefully over the row of buttons down his slender chest.

He looked quite presentable when the Royal usher announced him to her Majesty.

Agwene turned as the herald announced the bishop and then left the room. She remained on the balcony, leaning slightly against the railing which was carved from the same single piece of marble as the whole Old City. Agwene smiled lightly, her indescribable face simply lighting up. Her small, slender frame was clad in a gown of green gossamer which formed constantly shifting patterns of light and shadow, though never became so thin as to be immodest. Short, black hair was tucked behind elegantly tapered ears as soft, white hands settled on the balcony. Her face and her figure did not look a day beyond sixteen, though she had the same ageless, not ancient but ageless, eyes as most of her people. On her wrist, she wore a simple, golding wedding band.

Helga stood about nine feet tall and had light blue skin. She was dressed in a sleeveless white robe that pooled on the floor beneath her ankle. She wore a silver band around her muscled upper arm. Her whole frame was muscular and suggested a great amount of raw physical power. Her face, not much different from what one would expect to see on a twenty something human female bodybuilder aside from the blue color and the size, retained a perfectly collected, emotionless expression.

Pankul was quite simply an unattractive man by anyone's standards. His face was craggy and his eyes small and beady. His knuckles were nobby and a similarly disfigured appearance could be seen in his knees and elbows, even through his black tunic and breeches. His face was marked by black swirls and what seemed to be a perpetual scowl.

Agwene spoke first, of course. "Thank you for coming to see me, Your Excellency. I understand the Vatican wishes to make its opinions known."

Although no hint of surprise showed on the Bishop’s face, he was more than a little startled at the Queen’s swift, direct question. No preliminaries, no introductions, no diplomatic formulae. Interesting. He filed the impression away for later thought, and merely bowed, politely.

“Your Majesty is extraordinarily gracious to permit me the opportunity to discuss this matter personally. As I am certain your Majesty does, also, the Holy See has a deep concern for the ongoing peace of the North Atlantic region. As I am sure you are aware, it is emphatically not the policy of the Church to involve herself actively in the internal affairs or diplomatic relations between states, nevertheless, our concerns for the temporal well-being of all God’s Creation obliges us to provide a moral viewpoint, as it were, on issues of concern.”

He smiled a little, standing respectfully, and acknowledging the Queen’s ministers with a glance and a slight nod to each.

“As you are probably aware, Rome has just recalled for consultation myself and those other diplomats whose assignments are relevant to the current situation in the North Atlantic. This was done in the hopes of both increasing our understanding, and of developing a policy that will accurately reflect the concerns of the Church, without—we hope—adding further complications to the matters at hand.”

“I have prepared a written summary, as well, which I should be happy to provide your Majesty’s Foreign Ministry. Briefly, the policy of the Holy See is to encourage the Isles to resume their mutual defense pact. We believe this can best be achieved by encouraging all non-local powers to withdraw their involvement in the internal politics of the Isles altogether. We recognize that economic and social complexities—not to mention issues of military security and national prestige—render such an outcome difficult of achievement, but urge all parties involved to give their best efforts to overcome such challenges. Finally, we express our support of the efforts of non-aligned powers to facilitate a resolution to this end, without military escalation or intervention.”

"I don't know..." Anna answered truthfully, shrugging a little as she looked over across the little crowd to the Emperor. "I did speak with him... I tried to give him an opportunity to unburden himself. I told him that I was frightened by the possibilities of what might happen with the Confederation. Maybe he's doing this to reassure me and anybody else who might secretly feel the same way?"

"Oh yes, very busy, very busy." nodded the Marquis. "And like Your Majesties do, no doubt, I look forward to an end to it. But I shan't complain, it is my job after all, and I know that the present situation must weigh on you even more heavily than it does on me. How wonderful to have a beautiful island like this to come to and rejuvenate. The fresh sea air does wonders for one's composure, I've always found. I've often suggested that the Pantocratorian court spend more time at seaside retreats, even that dreary little palace in New Jerusalem, just because of the fresh air. I'm quite sure it has healing properties, you know. The city air in New Rome is foul and I don't much care for the air at Chantouillet, that in-land countryside air is refreshing, no doubt, but doesn't have the same miraculous properties... and indeed if one has seen the transformations the sea air has worked in some people I have known it IS miraculous..."

He kept on rambling like this. Thankfully he was a talented enough diplomat to make up for his many failings as a conversationalist; it was rare that a Pantocratorian aristocrat would keep his own opinions on foreign policy to himself enough to do a good job as an ambassador, thankfully the Marquis confined his myriad of opinions to trivia and minutia.

The Hague, KIST secretariat

Going to work was the same everywhere, and the political shift to the left in the Knootian administrative capital hadn't changed matters much - well, maybe things were now a little worse.

The Hague, always a city of narrow and insanely busy streets, was even harder to drive in now that the greens in the local city council had begun to remodel traffic flows and restart the dead-flogged corpse known as the ‘The Hague tram service'.

Now the prestigious street containing the building that housed the KIST secretariat had been turned into a left-turn lane (as if to rub it in) for anyone with a bike or hydrogen-powered car. In the case of Maarten Slaeger, the car was a black benzene-driven stretch, a big one with twelve cylinders of Menelmacari power under the hood. There weren't many of them in The Hague, and truly his was an extravagance that ought to have embarrassed its driver... but it didn't . Money did have its privileges, and as second secretary of the of the External Relations department of the Knootian International Stabilisation Treaty Secretariat he made a fair amount…

---

“Access granted – enter when ready.”

Gary Paxton threw his plastic keycard up in the air, cleverly catching it again and putting it in his pocket. As one of the twenty-something Iuthian econometrists working for the KIST secretariat, he was the kind of young man that you would see at every hip party. His colleagues thought of him as cheerful, clear-minded and a lover of music. And today was a big day; for the first time he could sit in at the External Affairs secretariat meeting – an unexpected honour to be sure. He just didn’t know what (or who) had been behind this apparent promotion.

“Gary!”

A young voice echoed through the stately hallway of the Secretariat building, causing the Iuthian to turn only to stare right in an adorable round face of a boyish Political Analyst. His long brown hair had been combed meticulously, and gel had been put into it so it was hanging over his eyes, straightened out like a comb.

“Well, well” the boyish lad began with mock appraisal, standing just a little closer to the Iuthian then one might expect in a conversation between collegues. “Look who got himself invited to the Big Table!”

“Aaaaaw”, he began. “Did you?...”

“Why, Mr. Paxton! Are you implying I would pull strings just to have you around me?” he said with feign surprise. “Why that would be very unprofessional indeed!”

“You corrupt, raunchy Knootian…” – Gary leapt forward to knuckle his friend but the Knootian managed to artfully dodge the incoming move, grabbing Gary by his waist and pulling him towards him at his own pace. Both horsed around playfully in the hallway.

“Aaaw, c’mon, it’ll be fun! And with you around these old geezers will actually… oh.”

Footsteps announced the presence of one of the ‘old geezers’ in question and Maarten Slaeger came stampeding into the hallway. The two young lads stepped aside, grinning awkwardly as he passed (with Gary inconspicuously rearranging his slightly ruffled jacket.) Slaeger didn’t seem to be paying all too much attention, as he was busily talking into his wrist-phone.

“Who was that?”, Gary whispered when he had passed.

“That is Slaeger, He is the second secretary of of E.R. You’ll hear more of him in the meeting which is…”, the Knootian checked an ornate grandfather clock at the end of the hall “… in five minutes, we better get going or we’ll be late!”

---

Meetings in the KIST secretariat are always very multicultural affairs, with different races and species mixing and mending. The External Relations department, in particular, had as many different nationalities as one might expect in a multinational treaty organisation. All at once one could discern the calm, dignified and flowing sound of Quenya, casual English, forceful but perhaps also aloof German and its odd cousin the Dutch language, which to the untrained ear might sound ‘like German spoken by little children’ – as some foreigners who were new to the country but who had visited the Lavenrunzian capital of Hofburg might express it. In-between this cacophony of languages, Gary and his Knootian friends found two adjoining seats at the round meeting table. Quietly they whispered in English about this or that – keeping their faces close together and letting their eyes meet one another freely.

Slaeger had no gavel, but through his presence he could guide any KIST meeting as he wished. When he sat down, everyone settled down and dropped their respective conversations. This being done, Slaeger surveyed the table, resting his eyes on Gary.

“I hereby open the External Relations staff and analysis meeting,” he pronounced with a rather Dutch accent but without struggling with the language as an inexperienced speaker. One might expect that he simply felt no need to adapt his accents to the mannerisms of this or that foreign nation. “We have only one item on the agenda and I would like to get to it…” he paused forming a tight smile, “but first and I would like to recognise the latest addition to our External Department team, Mr. Paxton who is here to liaison for Analysis if I’m not mistaken?”

Gary nodded and blushes just a little bit as everyone was looking at him.

“Fine, lets get to it then,” he grunted. “I would like to thank Mr. Fix and Lady Tári Inglorion for the information they have just given us on the continuing negotiations in Saxmere. Especially in the light of already pressured trade relations and with the KIST membership of the Confederation being challenged it would seem only prudent to keep this matter under tight control, especially in the light of, uhm” he hesitated for a moment “the way our reputation is being played out right now in the lower echelons of Saxmere politics.

You know the value that the Secretary-General has placed on the unity of KIST signatories from the outset of the Saxmere crisis... without interfering in the foreign policy of any nation of course but at least to keep this whole situation from damaging economic relations between signatories...” he looked over to the side of the table.

“Thank you”; a tall Elvish lady with golden-blonde hair said, taking over naturally “I think the report shows the risk to KIST is now fairly direct. Especially from the Christian churches in the Confederation there is a… almost a campaign. The KIST organisation is being blamed, or at least implicated, with the transitional effects of Caine government policies. Especially in Saxmere, where the structural adjustment policies have hurt they are stimulating resentment. What exactly it is they think we’ve really done though I have not yet managed to find out. ”

Fix, an elderly human gentlemen with no remarkable features spoke slowly, continuing the report. “The negotiations may produce results, but it is very well possible that the Caine administration may consider the KIST treaty to be a… concession, so to speak. Sources (and nobody in the room doubted that these were Knootian) have been keeping us up to date on its progress. Of course, each of us wants more, and we should get together to put pressure on Jefferson and Umbra to get an economically beneficial result. But I think they can manage it."

“Ending the blockades as soon as possible would also greatly help to restore economic flow. At a rate of zero point three percent per day in volume loss this season, these blockades are rather unsustainable, especially for Saxmere” Gary’s Knootian friend chipped in. “Restoring trade and making sure that parties keep to their pronounced deals should be our first priority in my opinion.”

“Quite”, Slaeger grumbled, “Everyone loses from this embarrassing situation, especially KIST. We should show our goodwill, as an institution, I feel. We have an obligation to achieve results.

“We shoulder collectively this onerous responsibility which must leave no room for ulterior motives or assumptions”, Fix said stately, “We should be clear that none in the organisation face the least indulgence towards the KIST members in this dispute, nor that we as an organisation endorse any particular economic policy. This was the central tenet upon which the organisation was founded.”

Some in the room nodded in agreement, others just quietly acceded.

“This brings us to the core of the debates”, Fix continued, “At stake is our credibility, and our sense of responsibility Let us have the courage to see things as they are and allow President Caine the time he needs for his mission to succeed. But let us together be vigilant and charge Lady Inglorion and undersigned with reporting regularly to the Department. At the same time, I would propose we approach the Vatican to consider a coordinated response in calling for an end to the blockade and a peaceful solution.

Knootoss, for its part, has proposed another meeting of ambassadors in two days to assess the situation. We will then be able to judge the progress that has been made and what remains to be done.”

“There is a clear alternative to war," Slaeger suggested, “reuniting Saxmere with the Confederation via negotiations… or having them work out an internal deal. Remember: the authority of any action we take is based today on the unity of the international community. Premature military intervention would bring this unity into question, and that would detract from the legitimacy and, in the long run, the effectiveness of the Stability Treaty.”

“It would have incalculable consequences for the stability of this fragile region", Fix added, "It would compound the sense of injustice, increase tensions and risk paving the way to other conflicts."

Lady Tári Inglorion was looking like she had something to add, and the Knootian chair nodded to her in acknowledgement.

"Some time ago, the Excalbians reported the alleged links between the Order of the Invisible Hand and the government in Jefferson. Several related reports were implying KIST as well in this network. Given the present state of our research and intelligence, in liaison with some of our members, there is nothing which allowed me and Mr. Fix to establish such links. I think this something that should be conveyed to the world.

Slaeger looked displeased at the subject being brought up, yet despite this he managed to nod, furrowing his brow. "I will send a letter to Cardinal Angelini, who is the Secretariat of State of the Apostolic See regarding this as well as ask Communications to divert some time and funding towards a public campaign against misinformation. In addition to the leftist focus group they are getting a new job it seems."

The Knootian seemed satisfied with the result of the meeting, and looked around sternly.

"Anyone else has any points for discussion?"

Nothing.

"Then I close this meeting. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen."

OOC: you may consider a letter to the Vatican to be sent, as well as the KIST website showing the "what KIST is not" information emphasised. KIST pundits availiable (read: pushy) to comment on public media. ;)

--------------------------------------------
Submarine KDF Lely
Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles
-------------------------------------------

“They’re late”, Captain Merwede muttered worriedly under her breath as she paced through the map room. “We’ve seen nothing of them yet. Not a trace.

“Ideas?”

“I doubt its technical, they are probably delayed”, her number one suggested. “Could be any number of causes, although I think we can rule out the weather.”

“The Excalbians might be searching them for Knootian military hardware. They have reserved the right to do so” the captain suggested carefully. “Or… they might be on to us.”

“We should wait then, Sophie.”

“Fine,” the captain sighed, “Give them a bit more time, but I want all hands to be ready to make a run for it. Give them ten minutes. If they haven’t arrived in ten minutes I want us full speed ahead to the Confederation.”

Angelini, Nataka, and Gopangi were discussing the communication from the KIST Secretariat at one of their regular meetings. Angelini, who was relatively less experienced in the economic and political aspects of the Vatican’s diplomacy than his subordinates, was asking the questions.

“Well, I have reviewed the KIST text, and although it seems rather, ah naïve—not to say idealistic—I am at a loss to understand why there are other KIST signatory nations deploying military assets in the North Atlantic, or preparing to do so. Nothing in the treaty seems to either require or encourage signatories to intervene militarily on behalf of each other when they are engaged in disputes with non-signatories.”

Nataka and Gopangi exchanged very brief glances. The old Cardinal was inherently good-natured, and definitely a little on the lazy side, but when he put his mind to it, it was a very shrewd mind indeed. They had begun to appreciate, in the past couple of years, just why Leo had twisted the old boy’s arm to keep him in the Secretariat.

“Quite so, Eminence. It may help to remember that, while the other signatories are by no means negligible in either influence or benefit, KIST is essentially a Knootian creature, and Knootoss wields a disproportionate share of influence in the Secretariat. Thus, while KIST itself is not a Handie tool, as long as the Order maintains a high level of influence in the DDR, there will be a certain amount of—tenderness—toward both Knootian and Handie interests.”

“Which,” Gopangi interjected, in his soft, slightly sing-song accent, “we must avoid the error of conflating. While the Order seems to have originated in Knootoss and has obtained a most unhealthy amount of influence in what would otherwise be an innocuous, even occasionally admirable, state, it is not yet synonymous with Knootian interests altogether.”

Nataka nodded, but there was a dry edge to his tone as he reminded his colleague, “Not so admirable recently, Excellency, with this appalling spate of economic and military imperialism under the Galadriel administration. Those unfortunate peoples in Columbia and Tanah Burung would hardly refer to the Knootian greed for profit as ‘innocuous.’”

The President of the Second Section shrugged. “Most capitalistic nations go through phases of economic imperialism. In the past, the innate respect of the Knootian people for human rights and social justice has usually asserted itself; it may do so in this instance as well. Particularly considering the current state of Galadriel’s administration. Might that not be a sign that the Knootians are beginning to see the long-term disadvantages of such unchecked rapaciousness?”

Angelini intervened to bring the discussion back to its purpose before his subordinates got hopelessly sidetracked. “The point is, that KIST, at least, seems to be concerned with the, ah, blowback, from the North Atlantic situation. This,” he lifted the hardcopy before him, “would appear to be a feeler, as it were, to assess the specifics of our position. But why?”

Nataka was still looking at his colleague, who met his gaze blandly, but at that he turned, and nodded to the Cardinal. “A common misconception, Eminence. So many assume that Rome pulls every string of every local Church. The local Churches in the CCS and Saxmere have been organizing vigorously against the Handie influence and what they see as Knootian economic imperialism. KIST is linked closely to Knootian economic policy.”

He paused, to organize his thoughts. “I believe it is possible that many in the CSS and Saxmere do see KIST, Knootoss, and the Order as three fingers of the same hand. But those are unlikely to be the more sophisticated among the opposition. It is more likely that the more experienced organizers are hoping for exactly what seems to be happening: Blowback among KIST signatories against the complications unleashed by Knootian greed.”

Here Gopangi nodded agreement with his colleague. “Indeed. Making things uncomfortable among its economic allies will put additional pressure on the Knootian government. If such discomfort results in either overt moderation—or, better, withdrawal—of Knootian support for the Caine government, or behind-the-scenes moves within the Knootian government to suppress the Order’s more blatant meddling in the Excalbian Isles, it must be regarded as a beneficial outcome.”

Angelini blinked as he tried to follow this, and he looked thoughtful. “Well, it really has nothing to do with us, though, does it?”

Nataka shrugged. “Other than our ongoing moral and spiritual support for those resisting the spread of the Handie ideology, no. As your Eminence knows, we have no divisions.”

The three men smiled, then Gopangi’s face grew rather wistful. “And even that moral and spiritual support is generally assumed to be far more potent than it ever could be, in real terms. The local Churches are enthusiastic about this, but if they weren’t…” he shrugged. “It is certainly not the kind of issue we could be heavy-handed about. It is a moral question, not a doctrinal issue.”

“But, as your Eminence has noted,” now it was Nataka circling the conversation back around to its purpose, “the Secretariat has seen fit to communicate with us on the matter. That might provide an opening both to explain our own position in greater detail, and to, ah, assess the situation with more accuracy. Perhaps.”

The Cardinal nodded. “I would suggest that we let this...” he looked down at the hardcopy “Secretary Slaeger know that the while the Vatican is aware of the nature of the KIST, we have no intention of intervening in the efforts of local Catholics to express their own views about the Treaty in the context of current Knootian involvement in the CSS. However, since we are deeply concerned by the possible negative outcomes of the North Atlantic situation as it exists now, we are always open to discussing the views and goals of any of the parties actively involved, including the Secretariat.”

Since the matter fell under Archbishop Gopangi’s Section (relations with states included multi-state organizations,) it fell to his staff to draft the appropriate letter, which was duly dispatched.

((OOC: HVS, there were no introductions because the Legate would have been presented to the High Queen straight off the plane even before being taken to the embassy as SOP. So it's assumed every ambassador or equivalent official has already met her.))

Agwene relaxed slightly at the Bishop's words, her ethereal golden radiance seeming to brighten. It was rather infectious and gave the impression of being oddly and preternaturally larger than life, causing both Pankul and Helga to smile, though neither of them seemed the type to smile much.

Agwene clasped her small hands together lightly. "That is exactly our policy." She paused after a moment. "Forgive me, you know High Priestess Helga and Minister Millstone, do you not?" It was likely that the Legate would have met them at Court at some point or another, but Agwene wasn't certain.

After introductions, if any were necessary, were made, the High Queen continued. "There is a related matter where I am more interested to know the Vatican's opinion. Tell me...what do you make of the role of the Order of the Invisible Hand in this entire affair?"

((OOC: We assumed that the Legate had met the Queen at his initial (formal) presentation, but that subsequently almost all business would have been conducted through the Foreign Minister’s office, standard diplomatic procedure. Probably he would have met the Religion Minister (at least) as well, but he is still a relatively recent appointment and would be more used to the kinds of standard protocols obtaining in previous diplomatic appointments.))

The Bishop found himself smiling at the Queen’s apparent pleasure. “Minister Millstone, a pleasure to see you again. High Priestess Helga, an honor to meet you, indeed.”

He considered the Queen’s question for a moment, his brow wrinkling slightly. “The Order of the Invisible Hand is a very… morally destructive organization, from the Church’s point of view. Although we hold firmly to a policy of encouraging states to organize to allow their citizens economic self-determination, we also consider that economic self-determination does not release either states or individuals from the moral obligation to relieve suffering and promote the well-being of those less fortunate. From that standpoint, the unrestrained ‘market Darwinism’ advocated by the Order is an appeal to the most ignoble and selfish motivations.”

“Our concern has led us to gather as much information about the Order as we can. Although some aspects of the group are highly publicized, there is also much that is deliberately obscured, or left unclarified, including the higher levels of leadership. However, based on our analysis, it seems clear that a good deal of the impetus behind this movement rests in Knootoss. Adherents or members of the Order have considerable influence in the Knootian government; a matter of grave concern to us, since it seems to coincide with a wave of economic and military imperialism.”

“It is difficult to determine the precise degree to which the influence of the Order has driven the relations between Knootoss and the Caine government, but we are substantially certain that elements of the Order have played a considerable financial and technical role in the late extraordinary election process. We also strongly suspect elements of the Order collaborated with the Caine government in engineering the death of the Excalbian, Bishop Purins, and preventing a thorough investigation of his death.”

The Bishop shrugged. “They are very professional, however, in covering up their tracks and leaving no substantive evidence of their involvement.”

“We certainly acknowledge the legitimate nature of international trade agreements between sovereign governments such as Knootoss and the CCS. If, once normal relationships between the Isles nations are restored, the CCS or other Isles governments wish to establish such agreements as may be congruent with the Isles’ mutual defense and economic benefit arrangements, we would not regard that as cause for concern. However, we would prefer to see such agreements proceeding on a basis that was less…influenced… by groups that are both lacking in official government status, and possessed of a clear agenda to advance their own power and wealth.”

“In that respect, we cannot regard the role of the Order with anything but misgiving. It is our hope that the Knootian government, if it truly wishes to pursue mutually beneficial economic relationships in the Isles, will take steps to exclude, or at least limit, the role of the Order in the process. And certainly to discourage the Order’s Knootian adherents from involving themselves in the internal politics of other sovereign nations.”

The Bishop sighed regretfully. “The Knootian people, and once, their government, provided a wonderful example of how states can effectively establish mechanisms to ensure the rights of citizens and meet the needs of those disenfranchised from social participation by reason of poverty and misfortune. Although there is, regrettably, a deep anti-Catholic strain in the Knootian popular culture, the Church has always greatly valued the example of the Knootian people and government in their humanitarian priorities. We are deeply distressed by the rising forces of economic and military imperialism and market Darwinism in Knootoss of late. And we attribute much of that to the influence of the Order.”

((OOC: That would be a correct assumption. Just clarifying.))

Helga nodded slightly. "Our theologians and philosophers consider the Order to ultimately preach a form of moral relativism, despite all their protestations to be simply a 'different morality'. Moral relativism itself is a somewhat tricky issue as a responsible approach must deby moral relativism even while acknowledging that good, well-intentioned people can have honest disagreements regarding what is moral. I believe your Church has already made your position on this clear in your doctrines regarding other religions."

Pankul grunted slightly, trying to stop sharing his queen's pleasure. He hadn't grown up around Sidhe and, like many Nockers, found their gifts a little overwhelming, especially those of a High Queen. He had trouble looking at her and just as much trouble looking away, though he knew he'd have to get used to it in his position as minister. Managing to turn his attention back to the bishop, he spoke simply and to the point. "As Your Grace might be aware, the Order is applying for recognition as a religion in the Resurgent Dream."

Agwene nodded slightly. "Before we get into this, I wish to make one thing clear. It might answer certain questions you have about the rather...atypical nature of this meeting." She paused, regarding the bishop intently. "I do not regard relations with the Vatican as simply a matter of diplomacy. All Danaans look to the Vatican as one of the moral leaders of the world for your consistent role as a champion of the rights of the unborn; for 'In Apostolarum Eldari' which, if nothing else, represented a categorical refusal to condone certain genocidal policies being done in the name of your religion; for your staunch adherence to the principle of the indissolubility of marriage; for your overall message of peace, love, freedom, and brotherhood; and for your very nature as the spiritual shepherd of billions upon billions of people. For those Danaans who are Catholic, a notable minority, you are the source of moral leadership. I am not a Catholic myself or even a Christian but I do not have to be to realize there is a qualitative difference in dealing with the Vatican as opposed to a secular state."

Agwene fell into silence for a long moment, looking out over the Marble City, carved of a piece, and the more modern Tarana skyline, before she spoke again. "What do you think of the Danaan people so far, Your Grace? I'm aware of the Church's position on states and on 'species' and on other religions. But...how do you personally find the people here after a few weeks residence?"

The Bishop was a little overwhelmed. He’d been aware, in a general way, that the Church was well-regarded in the Resurgent Dream, although the Catholic population was a comparatively small percentage of the whole. He bowed.

“Your Majesty’s regard is greatly appreciated by the Church.” He canted his head slightly, looking a bit regretful. “Although our history has not always lived up to our aspirations, in the temporal sense. Perhaps this helps us better understand the need for, and value of, our role in the present time.”

He smiled warmly at the Queen. “It is refreshing, too, to find such a precise appreciation of ‘In Apostolatum Eldari.’ Although it remains controversial in the Church for now, I believe it represents a valuable insight into how modern realities may be integrated into the Church’s mission. I do hope that there will be Danaan representation at the upcoming Conference on Non-human Sentience. The Resurgent Dream has much experience and understanding to offer our Bishops and other leaders in their discussions.”

“As to my experience of the Danaan people… Your Majesty, I have been most warmly welcomed in the Resurgent Dream, by non-Catholics as well as those of our faith. There is a great appreciation, I find, among the Danaan peoples, of many of the essential truths the Church upholds, and an admirable determination to infuse the practical realities of social, economic, and cultural life with moral understanding and aspiration. The Resurgent Dream is fortunate in her leaders and her people, and I am most appreciative of the opportunity to come to know your nation.”

Barbecue – the Knootian ambassador

Arriving fashionably late was the Knootian ambassador. Short, thick blonde hair covered the rather thick head of his Excellency Ronald Bloodgood. He had the kind of heavy appearance, not so much of a man without control of his eating habits but of a man who understood the finer pleasures in life and indulged in them. This indulgency was only accentuated by the voluptuous woman flanking him. She was at least ten years younger, said little and knew when to leave her husband alone. (While also possessing other qualities that the Knootian wouldn’t espouse in public but which were implied in the way he would look at her when other men gave her too much attention for his liking.)

For the barbeque, he wore long shorts and a plaid shirt with a Hawaiian imprint - a floppy colourful tie playfully attached to match. (One would never face an Emperor without a tie, after all!) His wife, more fashionably dressed, had brought a bag with her with some saugages for the barbeque. (Despite the ambassadors insistence that it would not be necessary she thought it better to show up with some, as the tradition of her own family always had been.) Both removed their dark sunglasses as they were let into the gardens behind the Summer Palace.

Bloodgood had initially joined the intelligence business when the AIVD was still the underfunded, overused agency that was the joke of all SATO nations. Still, he considered as he scanned the crowd, under Galadriël it had become on of the best such government departments in the civilised world, even if it had ultimately failed.

The Knootian sighed involuntarily. Had the war in Tanah Burung not become the quagmire it was today, then his place as Director of Federation Security (charged with the important Colombia dossier) would have put him as a direct assistant to a Prime Minister who lived forever and (as it seemed by now) had ruled the Knootian Federation from Noordeinde Palace forever. A man of genuine power whose mere gaze could make strong men tremble . . . but . . . no, what was the use of that? he asked himself. It was all an illusion, an odd thing for a man with of supposed regard for Objective Truth to treasure.

That had always been the cruel dichotomy. The AIVD had always been on the lookout for hard facts, but then reported those facts to people besotted with a dream, who then bent the truth in the service of that dream. But Objective Truth, it seemed to Bloodgood, had finally broken through, and the dream was suddenly evaporating before his very eyes like a cloud of steam in a high wind, and reality had poured in like the flood following the collapse of a Knootian river dam in autumn – a tumbling river of mud flowing into the hinterland after the dyke has slowly rotted through and through and drenched with the water it was supposed to be holding out. And then the Galadriël administration, those (no doubt brilliant) men and women who'd wagered their lives on the dream, had found that their theories had been only the thinnest of reeds, and reality was the swinging scythe, and the eminence bearing tool that didn't deal in salvation.

But it was not so for Bloodgood. A dealer in facts, he'd been able to continue his profession, for his government and his Prime Minister still needed them in Excalbia. In fact, his authority was broader now than it would have been, because as a man who knew the surrounding world well, and some of its more important personalities intimately, he felt uniquely suited to representing the Dutch Democratic Republic in what had become a key position in diplomacy even if it involved intending barbeques instead of meetings of the Council of Ministers.

Agwene nodded slightly. "My understanding of the document was always that the Church realized it would take many years, possibly centuries, to determine the ontological significance of non-human sentience, especially given the many places where infallible doctrine talks about the relation between Jesus and Adam's lineage. However, the Church wanted to decisively remove any support from actions which even the racially conservative clergy, excepting a Iesian fringe, considered unjustified. Since that time, in its practical life, the Church has tended to presume as much, rather than as little, as possible, including provisionally extending the Sacraments appropriate to the laity to non-humans in many countries and even the Sacrament of Ordination in those countries where there is not a sufficient human population from which to draw clergy. All of which shows how serious the Church is on moving on the matter, even if sometimes we can't help but wish she'd move somewhat faster."

Helga added "Of course, not all Catholics seem to have been prevented from committing crimes in the name of religion by the Vatican's position."

Agwene shrugged. "I doubt you can call the perpetrators of the Armonvale attack Catholics, really, even if they were formally still members of the Church." She looked to the bisop again. "You are familiar with the attack on Armonvale harbor a year ago?"

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

A cool breeze wafted across the gardens of the Summer Palace, spreading the sweet fragrance of lilacs. Servants began passing among the guests serving drinks and light hors d'oeuvres.

Sarah Harrington gave Lady Stoiries a look of sympathy as she took a glass of white wine. She nodded knowingly. “Such rapidly evolving situations seem to require ever changing instructions.” Sarah smiled. “I fear our own ambassadors would probably feel the same as you about our directives.”

She took a step closer to the Nocker diplomat. “What, if I may ask, did Her Majesty have to say about the current situation?”

Spotting a flash of black and magenta, John Cardinal Friesz turned from his conversation with the Excalbian bishops and looked for Archbishop Tsarong. Seeing the Vatican diplomat not far away, the cardinal excused himself and strode towards the Papal Legate.

“Your Excellency,” Friesz said with a warm smile. “It is good to see you again. I trust you had a productive stay in Rome.” Friesz was, of course, anxious to hear about the legate’s meetings and the Vatican’s views of the Saxmerean crisis. However, he knew that Tsarong would fill him in on what he needed to know at the appropriate time.

Friesz gestured towards the Excalbian bishops. “Would you care to join us for a few moments? I believe Bishop Slesers was hoping to find you this evening.”

Joseph nodded as Anna spoke. He slipped his arm back around her and gently pulled her closer, in a reassuring gesture. “Maybe he is trying to reassure us.” Joseph cast an anxious glance towards the Emperor. “My father has always had a very even disposition, Anna. I’m sure he will be back to his old self shortly.” He looked back to his wife. “I just hope this is a sign that he’s coming out of his… blue mood.”

The Emperor and Empress made small talk with the Marquis de Nouvelle Thessalonique and stole glances at the growing crowd. After several minutes of listening to the ambassador opine on minutia, the Emperor stifled a yawn, then leveled his gaze at the Pantocratorian.

“Your Excellency,” David IV said, “I must say that I am curious to hear your opinion as an experienced diplomat on the proposed negotiations being organized by Lavenrunz. Do you foresee their success in staving off conflict?”

The staff of the Imperial Household greeted the Knootian Ambassador and his wife and led them to the gardens of the Summer Palace. One of the assistant ushers glanced suspiciously at bag the ambassador’s wife carried, then looked at his colleague. The second usher stifled a smile and turned to the woman.

“Madame,” he said with a slight bow, “a full meal has been prepared. However, if you would like to have your own sausages for dinner, I can take them to the chefs for you and have them prepared.” The man extended a helpful hand to take the bag.

Once the Ambassador and his wife were in the gardens, several Excalbian government officials, Senators and nobles froze in mid-sentence and gaped at the couple. Some of the stares were due, no doubt to the loud attire, but there was a measure of surprise at seeing the representative of Knootoss on what many assumed was the eve of battle.

Lord Yornis Halton, the Minister of Defence, spotted the Knootian nearby and snorted. The man looked like a buffoon. He quickly walked away and went looking for someone worthwhile to talk with.

Sir Harrison Grasis, the Treasury Minister, noted the Knootian’s arrival and found himself wondering how Lord James was doing in Knootoss in his efforts to make contact with the muckraking press.

As the Knootian Ambassador moved into the crowd, a visible pocket seemed to form around him, pierced only by servants carrying trays of wine, iced tea and lemonade and platters of food. Finally, one person – a woman wearing a short khaki skirt and a white shirt – approached. She smiled a gleaming, TV-ready smile, flicked her perfectly coiffed dark blonde hair and extended a hand. “Your Excellency,” Lady Christina Freedman said, “it is good of you to come. It should be an interesting evening.”

Stoiries grinned a little. "Mostly that we love Lavenrunz." She laughed lightly. "Specifically, my orders are that we support fully the Lavenrunzian efforts at negotiation and reject out of hand any request from any party prejudicial to those negotiations no matter what the momzers want. The only exception is if the principle parties and the Teutonic Empire invite us to participate in the mediation effort, in which case we will."

Aboard INV Spectre, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

The matte black Wraith class catamaran rode high in the water off the port side of the massive tanker. Not far away, her sister ship stood alongside the tanker, a gangway connecting the two ships.

CDR Robyn Torvalde sipped a cup of coffee and rested one elbow on the arm of her command chair.

“Phantom’s boarding party reports no sign of any contraband, Captain,” the CO, LT Janet Greene said from the comm. station.

Torvalde nodded. “Keep the Yutland detained until the submersibles finish their scans.”

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” Greene said.

Meanwhile, under the waves a dozen unmanned submersible drones silently moved along in an ever-widening circle looking for the Knootian sub.

Stoiries grinned a little. "Mostly that we love Lavenrunz." She laughed lightly. "Specifically, my orders are that we support fully the Lavenrunzian efforts at negotiation and reject out of hand any request from any party prejudicial to those negotiations no matter what the momzers want. The only exception is if the principle parties and the Teutonic Empire invite us to participate in the mediation effort, in which case we will."

“Well, your Excellency,” Sarah Harrington said, “I think His Imperial Majesty’s Government would welcome the High Kingdom’s involvement in the negotiations.”

On the A-6 Expressway, Near the Alud State Border

Thomas nodded silently as he listened to Araceli. Janice and Elza murmured their agreement.

Jake gave Elmer a look, then turned to Araceli. “Well, Miss, I reck’n your right. But we hav’to wait ‘til next’ ‘lection to vote ‘im out…”

Elmer shook his head. “Naw, Jake, we don’ have t’wait ‘til the election to make our feelin’s known. Look that fella’ in Saxmere – he’s let all of them know what he ‘n his want.”

Karl nodded. “Y’know, fellers, we ought git us a group t’gether and go down t’Jefferson. Let Caine and them folks know what we wanna do.”

Umbra, Captial of the Sovereign State of Saxmere

The roundtable discussion in the old Royal Palace continued for several hours, but it went no where; the same points and counterpoints were made over and over again, with Saxmereans arguing among themselves and with Caine.

After the meeting broke up, and Caine was escorted to his hotel for the night, he felt a sense of satisfaction. His trip had already been partially successful, having revealed rifts between the Saxmereans themselves.

Once he was safely in his suite, Caine dropped onto the sofa and smiled at his Chief of Staff. “How’d we do, Rihards?”

Rihards Krauklis nodded. “Better than I expected, Mr. President.”

Caine nodded. “I want you to find out from the Knootians what’s going on on their end.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Krauklis said, excusing himself to make contact with Knootian liaison.”

Araceli grinned broadly. "That's the spirit. I would offer to help but my firneds and I..." she gestured to the others at the table "...are on our way to go set up a new temple."

Stoiries almost grinned at the news. "Damned glad to hear that. It'd be nice if the Knootians and the Lavenrunzians and the Pantocratorians felt the same way. If they did, we'd be happy to participate in the negotiations."

The Marquis contemplated the Emperor's question quietly for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't have an answer, it was just that he wasn't sure whether the Emperor wanted to hear it, and in his experience as a courtier in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, it was generally better not to tell emperors things they didn't want to hear. Finally he decided that honesty was the best approach.

"Actually, Your Majesty..." the Marquis said apologetically. "I think that any negotiations will only avoid conflict if Knootoss gets its own way. Time and time again, that seems to be the pattern of things with the DDR, at least with its present government. If Knootoss doesn't get its own way in negotiations, it simply ignores those negotiations and continues to agitate. If Knootoss is unsatisfied, I have no doubt that it will continue to escalate things, and unless a new government is elected in Knootoss, I fear that they will eventually start an armed conflict."

Anna watched the Knootian ambassador's arrival nervously, before responding to Joseph with a more confident expression.

"I'm sure your father will do the right thing, Joseph." she responded. "He's too much like you not to!"

The Resurgent Dream

There was a slight, apologetic twinkle in the Legate’s eyes as the Queen spoke of the Church in the Resurgent Dream. “Well, your Majesty, it is not always well-understood by Catholics, much less non-Catholics, that there is considerable latitude among the practices of various local Churches, in some areas. How much latitude and in what areas varies greatly, depending on circumstances. Practices regarding non-humans in the Resurgent Dream are as, well… liberal… as those in the Menelmacari Church, if not more so. Especially considering the wide variety of different types of non-human individuals here. But that represents what could probably be considered the extreme liberal end of the spectrum, as it were.”

“I very much hope,” his head canted a little as he spoke, and a small line appeared between his brows, “that the more general standard of practice continues to move toward the practices common here. But in consultation with Danaan Bishops I have had to be candid—it is better, at this point, to maintain a low profile. The Church makes progress only slowly—for good reason, generally—and consolidates that progress even more slowly. Sometimes there are steps backward before more steps forward can be taken.”

“This is not to say,” he smiled again, “that there is no hope for full communion of non-human Catholics within the lifetime of the Resurgent Dream’s human Catholics. As Danaan Bishops have been quick to point out to me—and with very well-documented arguments—the definition of “human,” itself, may permit some latitude in interpretation based on scriptural and doctrinal guidance. However, there are very strong currents of xenophobia in the Church, as everywhere among humans. We are all infinitely capable of sin; only Christ’s redemption guarantees us forgiveness.”

Bishop Ainnle’s face became grave. “As to the Armonvale tragedy, we had heard of it, of course, your Majesty. I read the précis in the Secretariat file in preparation for coming to the Resurgent Dream, but there was not much detail. I was in Tormodrion at the time, of course, but even there, the news was reported. Tormodrion controls its media, however, so there is no telling how much or how little of the reporting was, ah… fully accurate.”

He shrugged. “Catholics are as capable of being criminals, perpetrating vile acts and terrorism as any other humans of any other faith, your Majesty. The Church can teach, can guide, can give access to the infinite mercy of God through the Sacraments—but man has free will, and can always choose to commit evil acts. We are given the unimaginable glory of the soul; it is put into our keeping by Divine gift, but once it is in our keeping, we have the freedom to make it or mar it how we will. The duty of the Church is to care for our souls, help us make of them our gift in return to the Creator, through embracing Christ’s redemption and walking in His footsteps. But even the Church cannot force a man to choose good, or reject evil.”

He looked very sad. “And of course, we consider it a very great tragedy when men choose to perpetrate evil acts in the name of the Christ, or the Church. A devastating sin, doing terrible damage. Yet even that may ultimately be forgiven, in the mercy of Christ.”

Citadel Excalbia

Archbishop Tsarong nodded respectfully. “It is good to be back, Eminence. Yes, I would say that the opportunity was productive, especially the chance to share information with my colleagues who also have North Atlantic assignments. I hope that I can call at the Chancellery—perhaps tomorrow?—and brief you on the most recent developments.” He peered past the Cardinal, to the Excalbian Bishops. “I would be very happy to greet Bishop Slesers.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Sarah discretely covered her mouth with her hand to conceal a grin. Her plainspoken manner was one of the ambassador’s most admirable traits. However, it still struck Sarah as humourous to hear such blunt honesty in court circles.

“I’m sure Lavenrunz and Pantocratoria will welcome your participation,” Sarah said brightly. Then, with a shrug, she added, “As for the Knootians, who can predict their reaction?”

Sarah smiled, “In any case, I certainly think a representative of the Danaan High Kingdom should attend.”

She looked over the gardens, then back to Stoiries. “So, my Lady, what do you think of the Island? I have always looked it, especially the gardens in Spring. I think the Emperor should entertain here more often.”

* * *

The Emperor nodded as the Marquis spoke. “I, too, have had the same fears about Knootoss. However, I do not think that they truly want an all-out war; we are not a lightly armed Tanah Burung. The Holy Empire would prove a formidable foe to the DDR. And, with a friendly government in Courtland,” the Emperor gave the Marquis a knowing look, “and the support of Pantocratoria and Varessa, I believe Knootoss would find it had bitten off more than it could chew if it attacks. Especially if VERITAS holds its neutrality.”

Emperor David IV caught a worried look from the Empress and smiled. “Of course, our task, your Excellency,” he said to the ambassador, “is to find a way to persuade Knootoss to, perhaps, redefine what they see as getting their way.”

The Emperor knew the Marquis was skeptical, as he was himself. He certainly had no optimism that Knootoss would listen to reason, yet he knew negotiations had to be given a chance. “I know that will be a difficult task, your Excellency; I only pray that we are all up to it.”

* * *

Joseph smiled and pulled Anna closer. “I know he will, Anna. I know he will.”

* * *

“Yes,” Cardinal Friesz bowed slightly, “I would appreciate hearing about your consultations. Tomorrow would be fine. Shall we say 11 o’clock?”

The cardinal followed Tsarong’s gaze and nodded. “Yes, your Excellency. Let me introduce you to Bishop Slesers.”

Friesz led Tsarong towards the cluster of Excalbian bishops. As they approached, one of the bishops, a surprisingly young looking man dressed in a blue cassock, trimmed in gold, with a white cummerbund. The dark, wavy haired man turned towards Friesz and the Papal Legate and smiled.

“Your Eminence,” Friesz said to the man, “I believe you know his Excellency, Archbishop Peter Tsarong, the Papal Legate to Excalbia.” The cardinal turned to Tsarong. “Your Excellency, I believe you’ve met his Eminence, Bishop Donald Slesers, the Presiding Bishop of Church of Excalbia.”

Slesers’ nodded and bowed slightly to the Archbishop. “Your Excellency,” he said, “it’s good to see you again. I understand that you’ve just returned from Rome. I must admit that I am curious to know the Church’s views on our current situation.”

Agwene arched a brow slightly. "More so? Not on ordination certainly."

Bishop Ainnle shrugged "I would not like to hazard a prediction, your Majesty. Conservative and xenophobic elements in the Church, while not always the same, are very strong. And this is an issue likely to unify them.

"A prediction?" She wasn't quite sure that she had asked for one or that that was an answer to her question.

“Rates of progress are controlled by many things, but attitudes are rarely entirely predictable.”

"I was referring to the comparison with the Menelmacari Church."

“Yes.” :he bishop nodded. “Like the Church in the Resurgent Dream, the Menelmacari Church has made most of its progress, er... under the radar, as it were. However, that is no longer the case. One reason for the surge of xenophobia and conservatism is that Menelmacari practice was brought rather forcibly to the attention of the Church at Sixtus' last Consistory.”

"Oh?"

Bishop Ainnle coughed a little "Cardinal Ravion."

"Though he was made a Cardinal by Sixtus, was he not?"

“Indeed. At that last Consistory. Much of the current conservative, ah, backlash, probably resulted from that.”

Agwene nodded slightly. "Archbishop Garber has little more desire to stay under the radar than Cardinal Ravion does."

“That is understandable, of course. The evangelization of Catholics in the Resurgent Dream is naturally a paramount concern. But too much, too soon, could put much in jeopardy.”

"Oh?" asked Agwene.

Helga commented flatly. "Like in the civil war, Your Majesty."

"Conservative feeling is running high. I would not like to see a wave of counter-liberalization provoked, as happened recently in the wake of implementing the reforms of Vatican II." The bishop commented.

Pankul shrugged slightly. "Where exactly?"
Agwene raised a hand to cut him off and then turned to Helga, saying simply. "I regret nothing leading up to or during that war."

“Throughout the Church, Minister. Many practices that were initially sanctioned in the first wave of reforms after the Council were revoked or discontinued."

Pankul frowned a little, having wanted a more geographical answer. "You mean Ordination?"

"Some practices regarding ordination that were initially permitted were discontinued, yes. Also the liturgy of Reconciliation, and some aspects of the Constitutions governing religious Orders were revoked."

"Forgive my ignorance but...what is the liturgy of Reconciliation?"

“Ah... the procedure for carrying out the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation, your Majesty."

"Oh?" Now she looked curious.

"Yes, your Majesty. In the immediate wake of the Vatican II reforms, some forms of the Sacrament were implemented that were later determined to be inappropriate. Those forms were barred from practice, subsequently."

"Oh!" Agwene gave a slightly embarassed laugh. "I thought you meant with regard to the conservative counterwave after the first council on non-human sentience."

Helga, however, remained intent on the bishop. "It might be of less immediate political concern but...I am still interested to hear of this."

Bishop Ainnle turns to the High Priest. "The essential matter, you see, is that when progress in the Church is pushed too fast, it can sometimes result in less progress, rather than more."

"No, no, I meant I am very interested in the theology behind Penance and Reconciliation specifically. And Her Majesty did learn that lesson in the civil war." Agwene gave the High Priestess another look, but didn't repeat her earlier statement.

Bishop Ainnle smiles, a rather luminous expression on the thin, elderly-looking face "It is a very beautiful theology, High Priestess. I would be most delighted to discuss it with you in detail, if her Majesty wishes to do so now. If not, perhaps we can meet later?"

Helga ignored the look and continued on. "As I understand it, every sin deserves damnation but through grace received as a gift one can be forgiven if one repents and does penance. Do I understand correctly?"

Agwene shook her head. "You two can discuss this later. Both this and the issue of race are rather off topic. We did invite the bishop here to discuss the situation in the Atlantic."

"Essentially, High Priestess, though it is more intricate." Bisoph Ainnle bowed slightly to her Majesty:: "Of course, your Majesty."

Agwene nodded. "My only immediate concern regarding Catholic doctrine on non-humans, and you will see why I wish to know in a moment, is this. Would the Church as a whole currently agree, as a present opinion and not an infallible doctrine, that there is a certain respect due to the sentient person in secular matters?"

"Unquestionably, your Majesty. That is categorically and specifically Church policy."

Agwene smiled brightly. "Very good. Then might I ask the Church's opinion on what Minister Millstone mentioned earlier, the request of the Order of the Invisible Hand for recognition as a religion?"

"The Church does not recognize the Order as religious in nature."

"And would thus prefer anyone else to deny them recognition as well?"

Bishop Ainnle shrugs "It is not Church policy to involve ourselves officially in the domestic political decisions of sovereign nations, your Majesty. However, unofficially, we do feel that whatever can be done to discourage the spread of the Order's pernicious doctrine is worthwhile."

Agwene nodded slightly. "It is likely they will be denied status as a religion. However, they will not be banned. Freedom of conscience applies to even the most 'pernicious doctrines' here."

Bishop Ainnle nods "We do not recommend banning it in any case, your Majesty. Such opposition can have a paradoxical effect of lending it a certain illicit appeal."

Agwene nodded again. "Instead, we intend to answer their challenge."

Bishop Ainnle looks eager "That is precisely the approach the Church values, your Majesty. Education. Moral example. Promoting the values of charity, community, caring for the less fortunate. A people who understand and value those principles are unlikely to be seduced by economic Darwinism."

Helga smiled, the first time he'd really seen her display emotion. "Yes, of course. But we had something...more specific than that in mind." Bishop_ Ainnle looked enquiring Helga continued. "As I mentioned earlier, the great challenge to combating moral relativism is that people of genuine good-will disagree on many moral questions and other people calling themselves moral engage in practices which it is unimaginable that any person consulting their conscience and seeking the good could condone." Bishop_Ainnle nodded "Are you familiar with the nation of Parthia?"

Bishop Ainnle racks his brains "Not familiar, High Priestess, no."

The Trolless continued. "Parthia considers herself to be a bulwark of morality in the world and a staunch champion of goodness and decency. She is even a member of a number of alliances who profess the spread of morality as their primary purpose."

Bishop Ainnle looks doubtful "Indeed? We will have to familiarize ourselves with them."

Helga nodded. "And, while considering herself in this light, Parthia rounds up Muslims
and summarily executes them for practicing their religion, sometimes actually making a game show of the executions which they show to their children."

Bishop_Ainnle shuddered, and crossed himself, his eyes closing briefly in sorrow."It is perhaps not surprising that the Church has no relations with Parthia, then."

All three Danaans lower their eyes in silent mourning for the victims of the Parthians before Helga continued. "My point is this. In many parts of the world, children grow up associating the idea of morality with such horrific crimes against decency. In others, they grow up experiencing morality as a series of mutually exclusive theories and, seeing none gain a decisive victory, decide none of them are true."

"Indeed, I fear you have stated it very accurately, High Priestess."

Helga nodded. "Tomorrow, I have a meeting scheduled with Archbishop Garber, as well as the Methodist Bishop, the Excalbian Bishop, the Chief Rabbi, the President of the Lutheran Conference, and a number of other Danaan religious authorities. The proposal under discussion will be to give the Order the battle of ideas they've been looking for through an interfaith effort to promote the proposition that there is an absolute standard of right and wrong best promoted by free exchange between people of good will and the promotion of certain almost universally assented to moral principles such as honesty, compassion, respect for others, etc. All without prejudice to the duty of each Church to preach their full doctrines, of course."

Bishop Ainnle bowed "A most worthy effort, High Priestess. You have our fervent prayers for success."

Helga returned the bow. "Thank you."

Agwene smiled. "The reason we wished to discuss this with you...if this program is sucessful in the Resurgent Dream, the Church abroad will likely make moves towards similar alliances in other nations where the Danaan Church has a presence, including a number of overwhelmingly Catholic nations."

Bishop Ainnle smiled "Cardinal Hume would probably be very interested in discussing this at the next Interfaith Council meeting."

Agwene nodded. "Thank you for coming, Bishop." She turned to Helga. "You're free to go as well, if you two wish to continue your discussion of repentance...?"

Helga nodded. "If the bishop does not mind."

Bishop Ainnle smiled "That would be delightful, High Priestess. May I host you at the Legation, for a discussion at your convenience?"

Helga nodded. "I would appreciate that."

The Archbishop smiled. “I am happy to discuss them. The situation is complex, naturally. The Church is most concerned that the military aspects of the situation do not escalate into armed conflict. And that the influence of the Order of the Invisible Hand in the Isles be reduced and, if possible, eliminated.”

His brows drew together slightly. “Of course you understand that the Church herself takes no direct action in such cases. We do not involve ourselves in the political or economic actions of sovereign nations, by policy.” His face relaxed, and he chuckled, slightly. “Of course, we do reserve the right to express our opinions, on occasion. As we have done with regards to the Order.”

Stoiries smirked a little. "It's pretty nice if you're into the whole bright, natural sunshine deal. To be perfectly candid, I'm much more at home in a mineshaft."

While the destroyer Alfkonur waited to receive its Knootian visitor, deeper in the water, and far beyond it moved the intelligence submarine Nikur, its speed and grace belying its bulk. Full of radio, sonar, and a variety of communications equipment, though it had good defensive capabilities it was not so much an underwater weapons platform as a means of moving a listening post to wherever the Imperial Navy required it. In this case, it moved unerringly towards the North Atlantic.

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Bishop Slesers and his fellow clergy nodded as they listened to the Papal Legate. “Yes,” Slesers said gravely, “I have become quite worried that a struggle that should rightly be intellectual and spiritual has become militarized.”

While his expression did not change, the Presiding Bishop’s eyes seemed to give a hint of a smile in response to Tsarong’s chuckle. “Yes,” he nodded, “we, too, try to stay as removed from politics as possible.” He glanced and Bishop Repse and the older Bishop Spelve and smiled slightly. “Sometimes, I wish we were not the state religion; it makes it all too easy for people to make assumptions about our positions.

“Still, as you said, your Excellency, we have been very vocal about our opinion of the Order and its beliefs.” He smiled and nodded slightly. “And we have appreciate the Vatican’s statements on the Order and those of our Catholic colleagues here in the Isles,” he nodded towards Cardinal Friesz. “Lately, I have been trying to also speak out about the need to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict. Again, another area of agreement between our churches.”

The Presiding Bishop stepped towards Tsarong and lowered his voice just slightly. “In fact, your Excellency, I was hoping to speak with you and Cardinal Friesz at some point about the future of our relationship with Rome.”

* * *

Sarah Harrington slightly arched her right eyebrow. She knew that the varied intelligent species of the High Kingdom had equally varied backgrounds and customs, but – for some reason – this revelation took her by surprise. “Really,” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible, “your people actually live… in… mineshafts?” She sipped her wine and smiled politely.

Aboard INV Spectre, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

“Skipper,” LT Janet Greene said, looking up from the comm. board, “the drones have finished their sweep. Nothing under Yutland or in the immediate vicinity.”

CDR Robyn Torvalde nodded. “OK, XO, I guess we can’t detain Yutland any longer.” The captain ran her finger over her lip. “However, I still think command was on to something. I have a feeling that sub is out there somewhere and planning to make a run for it using Yutland as camouflage.”

Torvalde leaned over her Tac officer’s shoulder and looked at his tactical display. Then, she turned back to Greene. “XO, let’s recover all drones – except two-five. I want two-five to grapple the bottom of that tanker and ride her right up to Confed. waters.”

“With all the cavitation from Yutland’s screws, even the drone’s active sonar will be useless, Captain.”

Torvalde smiled. “True, XO. But to use that cavitation for cover, that sub out there is going to have to awfully close to the tanker. I’m betting the drone will be able to catch it on visual or IR.”

Greene smiled and nodded. “But, Ma’am, that still might not give us time to intercept before they leave international waters.”

“No, XO, it might not. But it might just give us a clue about what they’re up to.”

Greene nodded again.

Amsterdam District, Knootcap, Dutch Democratic Republic

Lord James Reynolds sat down with a heavy thud. He had never liked to travel and, in particular, did not like busy airports like Citadel Excalbia’s Joshua II International or Amsterdam’s Schiphol.

The former intelligence chief reached into his pocket and tore open a packet of hand cleaning gel. The whole city made him feel dirty. Open drug use, immorality… It all made him despise the Knootians. Such a lack of discipline. It was disgraceful.

However, he reminded himself, the Knootians did have one advantage over his own far more moral and disciplined nation – it still respected private property and free enterprise. It was a joke of fate, he realized, that the last best hope of saving his homeland from the twin yokes of socialism and imperialism involved making use of Knootoss. He only hoped that it would be possible – somehow – to restore a Knootian-level of respect for free markets and private industry to Excalbia without bringing along its moral relativism and social decay.

Lord James stroked his beard with a now-clean hand. He reached into his pocket and opened his handheld PC. After checking his encryption, he went to his free e-mail account and looked to see if any of the Knootian journalists had answered his anonymous messages.

Stoiries shook her head. "Not exactly. We live in residences designed for that purpose, like most people, some of which are admittedly underground. But, in most cases, at least, a Nocker is most at home at a mine or a forge. Even nobles normally take up some craft, though as a hobby rather than a trade. I mostly work on cars."

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

Joseph Sumners, Speaker of the House of Representatives, leaned back in his leather chair and sipped a glass of iced tea. He looked out over the capital from the window of his office atop the Capitol.

In many ways, he reflected, his odd alliance with President Caine had been very successful. Caine had gotten the legislation he wanted and Sumners had gotten the power of the Speaker’s chair. Deandra, his home state, had benefited as well. Enormous private investment from Caine’s friends and associates, including the Knootians, had poured into Deandra, more than compensating for the loss of government programs.

Sumners set down his tea and picked up a copy of the New Hope Herald. Despite all the success, Sumners’ agreement with Caine was having… certain negative repercussions. While most Deandrans opposed Saxmerean independence, a sizable minority – over 40 percent – did support it. Opposition to Caine was running even higher. Sumners’ own approval ratings were dropping back home as well; a lot of voters were starting to agree with the Saxmerean critics that he – and his New Liberal Party – were offering too little resistance to Caine and support for the left-wing Democrats was growing.

Sumners tossed the paper back on his desk. It was time to do something to show his independence from Caine. But the question was – what to do to show that independence without earning a reprisal from Caine…

On the A-6 Expressway, Near the Alud State Border

As the roadside diner continued to buzz with talk of demonstrations and petitions, Thomas looked at watch and hurriedly ushered Araceli and the rest of his passengers out the door and back into his truck. “It’s still a long way to Cesis,” Thomas said. He was smiling and pleasant, but his voice carried a note of urgency. “We need to get across this little sliver of Alud and then across Gauja’s Keep and into Trondgard. That’ll be the worst part – high mountains, a lot of switchbacks.” He shook his head. “I’d rather get over it before dark.”

Umbra, Captial of the Sovereign State of Saxmere

As Caine waited for his Chief of Staff to be debriefed by the AIVD liaison down the hall, he decided to enjoy the rest of his evening. He reached over and picked up the phone to call his Press Secretary’s room. A few moments later, Shannon Coles discretely entered the President’s suite through a servants’ entrance. The presidential security detail at the door spotted her, but they were used to seeing her coming and going from the President’s private rooms. And they were sworn to secrecy.

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia
As the Knootian Ambassador moved into the crowd, a visible pocket seemed to form around him, pierced only by servants carrying trays of wine, iced tea and lemonade and platters of food. Finally, one person – a woman wearing a short khaki skirt and a white shirt – approached. She smiled a gleaming, TV-ready smile, flicked her perfectly coiffed dark blonde hair and extended a hand. “Your Excellency,” Lady Christina Freedman said, “it is good of you to come. It should be an interesting evening.”

“Your Excellency”; Ronald Bloodgood returned politely with a nod, answering her handshake firmly. His smile, while arguably not as flashy was disarming and apologetic.

“I agree it should be interesting”, he said with a hint of good-natured embarrassment. He glanced around to some of the guests who were watching them. “Although would appear that both our nations have rather dissimilar ideas about the nature of informal dress. I do believe I owe our gracious hosts an apology.”

He turned about to face the younger woman next to him. “I do believe I haven’t yet had the pleasure to introduce my spouse, Miss. Goodblood” She offered a hand as well

“A pleasure to meet you.”


Umbra, Captial of the Sovereign State of Saxmere
“Well, I think it went well”, the Knootian liaison to the negotiations with the Saxmereans said, but he did not seem too sure of himself. “Some are more committed to independence then I had hoped for but… well, I see some hope in their divisions. There is yet reason in Saxmere.”

He sighed. The negotiations had been long and tiresome, and despite the Knootians familiarity wth the local politics all the separate interest were hard to follow. A ‘Polish landday’, it had been– using the Dutch term for quagmire.

“Caine is doing well so far. There isn’t really much we can do to help. Any compromise short of independence or an Excalbian Grand Duke would do, in our opinion” he said with a shrug. “More important things are at stake now. Caines, ah, agenda will have to take pause I suppose to maintain unity. Whatever will satisfy them, really. I have been playing with the idea of opt-outs to some Confederal laws. And something should be done to restore their trust.”

The Knootian sipped from an especially cup of strong coffee.

“Of course, if you need material assistance then we’re there for you.”

Aboard the KDF Lely, off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles
Men and machinery jammed the bridge of the Lely, tense yet cool as they awaited a report from the officer at the helm. At the heart of the undersea vessel, the giant instruments operating the diving planes and the Christmas tree of green and red lights, constantly gleaming and blinking, revealed whether valves and hatches are safely rigged for diving.

Navigators were pouring over the chart monitors while other specialists of the submarine fleet of the Knootian Defence Force eyed their gauges and instruments with calculating care as the vessel slid through the dark water below the surface, nearly drifting, but ever so slowly converging towards the rendez-vourz with the pale contact resembling the delayed Yutland.

Captain Merwede tipped her fingers as she said in her command chair. While it was only a mile or so to Confederate waters there was still the real risk of detection, with the added risk of the complicated manoeuvre. The sound of the Yutland’s screws was now nearly audible, like a whisper. The captain raised her hand while the computer calculated the exact moment to fire up the engines to match course and speed.

((OOC: more a little later))

Trouw, a centrist Knootian newspaper, daily cartoon.
http://knootoss.vogels.nu/images/KnootossVaticaanzonderrand.JPG

From www.staten-generaal.kn
Transcript of the Emergency debate with the Prime Minister requested by Lousewies van der Laan on the planned visit of the Prime Minister to the Bishop of Rome

Chairman:
I would like to remind everyone that this session of parliament is extraordinary and that provisions from the Regelement van Orde apply. Also on the floor is a motion by Mrs. Van der Laan asking the government to refrain from sending official representatives to the Holy See.

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
Chairman, I would like to state my objection to calling this House into session during the electoral recess. It is not in keeping with the established traditions of this house to have electoral rallies inside the parliament building on the eve of elections. I would therefore ask the chair to consider shifting this debate to take place after the election.

Chairman:
The request for a debate reached the necessary quorum. The request should be directed to Mrs. Van der Laan who initiated the request.

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
Chairman, then I would like to ask my esteemed colleague to consider shifting this trivial matter to an appropriate time. It would be much better to discuss matters when the people have had their say in the upcoming elections.

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
Mr. Chairman, I have deposited enough signatures for this debate to be held. I believe it is the duty of this parliament to check the actions of this government independently, even if there are elections. Perhaps the honourable leader of the RCPK is afraid to discuss important matters in his House?

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
I am most certainly not afraid of discussing important matters, but don’t think this parliament should reconvene during election recess just because Mrs. Van der Laan has read something in De Volkskrant.

Chairman:
The floor is for Mrs. Van der Laan.

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
Thank you, Mr. Chairman. I would like to bring to the attention of this house reports that our Prime Minister intends to meet with the Bishop of Rome at the Vatican.

I would like to ask the Prime Minister if this is correct and if she indeed plans to meet with him.

I would like to know if she agrees with me that this violates the principle of the separation of church and state enshrined in our constitution.

I would like to know if she will continue to treat the Catholic Church as a partner for discussing secular, political matters.

I would like to know if she realises that this visit will reinforce Papal claims to the Vatican as a sovereign state, despite longstanding Knootian refusal to give any church this worldly authority.

Lastly I would like the Prime Minister to give me the reassurance that she will not visit Bishop Leo if this House so desires.

Chairman:
If no other members of this house have any remarks I will give the floor to the Prime Minister…

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
Thank you, Chairman. In answer to the questions posed by Mrs. Van Der Laan, I do indeed plan to meet with Pope Leo XIV of the Roman Catholic church -

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
The Prime Minister refers to this man as the Pope. Since when does the government recognise the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church over the beliefs of our Christian-Orthodox citizens, for example?”

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
This government does not recognise any religious authority over another. But it is a matter of fact that Leo is the leader of the Roman Catholic Church.

Chairman:
No… no… the Prime Minister will now answer the questions posed by mrs. Van der Laan. Please allow the Prime Minsiter to answer your own questions!

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
Thank you. I do not believe the separation of church and state is an issue here, nor is there any special position for the Catholic church. My intention is to have a constructive dialogue with world leaders about the ideological and religious dimensions of the situation in the North Atlantic. As Prime Minister it is my duty to make sure all of our citizens feel at home, including our Catholic citizens.

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
Mr. Chairman, the Prime Minister is mistaken. No Knootian leader has visited the Holy See since Amalia of Knootcap (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.phpAmalia_of_Knootcap) ran off to marry that Iesus prince regardless of what the country thought! And let us not forget that the church has taken up completely immoral positions with regards to the fight against AIDS, homosexuality, the freedom of a woman to choose, the inviolability of ones own body and life and the position of women!

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
On a point of order, Mr Chairman, is it really necessary for Mrs. Van der Laan to revel in the anti-Catholic slaughter of the Royal Family. This sentiment is exactly what the Prime Minister is referring to.

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
Mr. Chairman, I take offence to the words of Mr. Deburghraeve. Let us not forget that it was the Christian-conservative moment that precipitated the dramatic outcome of the Amalia crisis and that it was a Liberal Prime Minister Vogels who solved it.

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
Pfffffft.

Chairman:
Order! Mrs. Van der Laan and Mr. Deburghraeve will limit themselves to the matter at hand! The floor is for the Prime Minister.

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
I understand the concerns of Mrs. Van der Laan and I will raise our reservations about church policies with His Holiness. This government shares the concerns of Mrs. Van der Laan but I think they can best be solved through peaceful dialogue.

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
I am well-aware that any government in which my party takes part shares these concerns, and I am glad that the Prime Minister plans to raise them... but I still do not feel a visit would give a good signal to the church. Would it not be better to get some concessions beforehand?

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
Does Mrs. Van der Laan really expect the church to change policies it has had for thousands of years as concessions for a visit from any Knootian Prime Minister, even one so eloquent and powerful as Galadriel? In what universe does the anticlerical wing of the SLP live?

Lousewies van der Laan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Lousewies_van_der_Laan) (First Speaker, Social-Liberal Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SLP)):
Mr. Chairman, if conservatives do not believe that raising these important issues will have any effect then this visit is useless and dangerous. If the Prime Minister does not seriously think she can make any difference then she should not waste the Peoples time and squander the principles of our Constitution with this controversial visit.

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
Mr. Chairman, perhaps the Liberal party can stop wasting the Prime Ministers time by making this visit controversial.

Chairman:
We should have the Prime Minister answer now so no time will be wasted.

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
Mr. Chairman, I have learned that if one wishes to engage in a dialogue one does not begin with demands. Constructive dialogue is the way to solve the North Atlantic crisis and also to mend the divisions within our own society.

Femke Halsema (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Femke Halsema) (Leader of the opposition, Knootian Green Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/KGP)):
Perhaps the Prime Minister should have learned this lesson before invading Tanah Burung when Alkatiri did not agree to her list of obscene demands. Perhaps the Prime Minister should have learned this lesson before walking out of the International Mediation Court! Perhaps she should have learned this lesson before alienating the country from her in the first place!

Chairman:
The House will come to Order. Let the Prime Minister finish.

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
I have always attempted diplomacy first before resorting to other means. In Tanah Burung, the government felt it had no other option because terrorists threatened to kill us if we did not act quickly and decisively. Since operation Tempo Doeloe there have been no more terrorist attacks by the Rumbiak Brigade outside of Tanah Burung. The North Atlantic situation should be solved through constructive dialogue and I will not deviate from this path unless the enemies of the Confederation resort to force.

Chairman:
The Chair recognises Mr. Deburghraeve… no, no we won’t go into this any further Mrs. Halsema.

Hugo Deburghraeve (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Hugo Deburghraeve) (First Speaker, Realistic Conservative Party of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/RCPK)):
Chairman, the Realistische Conservatieven feel that this situation is being overblown. I wholly support the continuing efforts by the Lady Galadriël to bring people together and if this visit will help to bring people together then we should do it.

I have taken due notice of the Prime Ministers pledges to raise the issues Mrs. Van der Laan mentioned with the Pope, and while I am a little… sceptic, if you will, about the potential for results I think it is the decent thing to do.

There is one thing that worries me though, and that is the continued campaign of Rome and its adherents against the Church of Freedom. I think that this is an issue that the Prime Minister should raise as well. This isn’t just an issue of age-old differences of opnion – I feel the Prime Minister can and should make a real difference in promoting religious toleration. Can the Prime Minister pledge to raise this issue as well?

Chairman:
The Prime Minister…

Lady Galadriël Táralóm nos Círdan (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Galadri%C3%ABl_T%C3%A1ral%C3%B3m_nos_C%C3%ADrdan) (Prime Minister of Knootoss (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/List of Knootian Heads of State)):
Yes, I will duly raise that issue and I am glad for the support of the Conservative party.

Chairman:
Mrs. Halsema

Femke Halsema (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Femke Halsema) (Leader of the opposition, Knootian Green Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/KGP)):
Thank you, Chairman.

As we all know, the Prime Ministers record in diplomacy is disastrous – and that is being nice to her. I must say I was a little surprised by this initiative of hers – she tends to do diplomacy only if the international community or cold hard facts force her to do so.

Chairman, I think that this debate just showed that it is all part of a campaign of political spin for both the ‘liberals’ and the conservative Handies… to clutch to last straws for an election they are going to lose.

When I am elected Prime Minister I will visit the Pope myself and then we can have a real dialogue -

Chairman:
The liberal members of this House will come to rest! Do not force me to use my gavel! Mrs. Halsema has the floor!

Femke Halsema (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Femke Halsema) (Leader of the opposition, Knootian Green Party (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/KGP)):
…. When I am elected Prime Minister I will heal the wounds in our society. The Green party holds the separation of church and state very dear.

As Greens, we also believe in religious tolerance and when this is threatened we should do whatever we can to preserve it. Therefore I cannot support the motion by my colleague Mrs. Van der Laan requesting that we will not send official representatives to the Holy See. I am not an opportunist, Mr. Chairman, and I will not condemn activities I intend to undertake myself. I can only hope that Galadriël will not further damage our relations with the Catholic church, although I doubt that this is possible.

Chairman:
Does the Prime Minister want to respond to that? No? Then if there are no other points I suggest we bring to vote motion <number> the government to refrain from sending official representatives to the Holy See.

Vote results:
In favour: 67
Against: 131
Abstentions: 2

Citadel Excalbia
Archbishop Tsarong’s brows rose a fraction of a millimeter. “The Church greatly cherishes our relationship with the Excalbian Communion, as I’m sure your Excellency knows. I am naturally at your service to discuss a matter of such importance, although,” he glanced around at the knots of diplomats, officials and Court functionaries, “it might be better to do so when there is less, ah… distraction. Shall I have my staff contact the Chancellery? Perhaps your Excellency would honor me by joining me for dinner, say, later this week?”


The Papal Apartment, Vatican City
Monsignor Iulio Kwan quietly placed a stack of papers on the Pontiff’s desk, moving with cat-footed silence so as not to disturb Leo, who was kneeling at his prie-dieu, a rosary in his folded hands. From time to time, another bead slipped methodically through his fingers. The Private Secretary closed the door, softly, as he left.

It was nearly two hours later when his buzzer went. “Iulio, please see if Tenda Nataka is available for a brief meeting, before the afternoon Angelus.”

And if the Holy Father asked, nothing but a diplomatic event of the highest level of importance would restrict the Sostituto’s availability. The Japanese Archbishop appeared with his usual methodical deliberation, half an hour before the Angelus, and was ushered into Leo’s study.

The Pontiff was sitting at his desk, looking over the papers at the top of the stack his Private Secretary had left earlier. A broad grin creased his countenance. He looked up as the diplomat entered, and chuckled, nodding for Nataka to seat himself, then tossed him the papers.

The Archbishop’s brows rose briefly, but as he saw what the papers were, a slow twinkle in his eyes answered the Holy Father’s grin. “Ah, Holiness… I see you have already examined the latest news from Knootoss.”

Leo chuckled again. “Indeed. It’s true, then?”

The Sostituto shrugged. “I believe so. We have had… unofficial… enquiries, in a rather roundabout way, from the Knootian diplomatic mission to Italy.”

“Hmmm… and you didn’t discourage them.”

Nataka shook his head. “No, Holiness. The enquiries were sufficiently oblique as to enable either party to disavow them, if it becomes… awkward. I merely reiterated that our policy is always to leave diplomatic channels open for discussion. This,” he gestured to the papers, “would appear to be the Prime Minister’s feasibility test at her end. Rather well handled, I thought.”

The Pope nodded. “Well-handled all around, I would say. But no one could accuse the Knootians of ineptitude when it comes to political, ah, machinations. What do you think Galadriel really wants?” He studied the Sostituto keenly.

Imperturbably, Nataka took his time responding. “She is almost certain to lose the next elections, Holiness. This would appear to be a bow drawn at a venture, with very little risk attached to her. Best case scenario, she achieves some form of concessions or recognition that will buy her allies or chosen successors support. Worst case, she can take the moral high ground for having made the diplomatic gesture.”

The Pope nodded. “I think so, too. We can surely structure it to a win-win scenario. I think this is something Joseph can handle rather well, in terms of substantive discussion. He is coming along very nicely, and is building a good reputation for, ah, conservative sympathies. As for a Papal audience and photo opportunity… hmmm, let’s see. How about a visit to Saint Maria dell’Anima, to see the monument of Adrian VI? The only Dutch Pope.” His eyes twinkled. “If she knows anything at all about Papal history, she might find it a most apposite gesture.”

Nataka smiled. “Ah, yes, Holiness… ‘Proh Dolor! Quantum refert in quae tempora vel optimi cujusque virtus incidat’ The Prime Minister is certainly in a position to appreciate that even the best of leaders may be born in times unsuited to their virtues. And the Catholics of her country are deservedly proud of Adrian, who exemplified many of their national virtues of reason, intellectual curiosity, and aspiration to excellence in government.”

“Indeed. Suggest it, then, when the formal enquiries are made.” He glanced at the papers Nataka still held, and his eyes narrowed to twinkling slits of amusement. “A pity that the circumstances do not allow us to receive Mrs. van der Laan and Mrs. Halsema. I would greatly enjoy such a meeting.”

Nataka shrugged, nonplused. On occasion, the Holy Father’s sense of humor eluded him. “Perhaps, Holiness, if the Greens win the elections, Mrs. Halsema might visit at some future date. As to Mrs. van der Laan…” he looked bemused.

The Pope chuckled. “Yes, yes… I know. To her, I am the embodiment of all that is reprehensible, and philosophically retrograde. Nevertheless, Mrs. van der Laan has accomplished much for her people. She might be surprised at how much she has in common with the Church when it comes to social policy. A woman of great determination, and no little leadership quality. It is always enlightening to encounter such individuals.”

The Sostituto bowed politely. “I see what your Holiness means. A pity it is unlikely that such a meeting will ever take place.”

Leo grinned. “You do that so well, Tenda.”

The Sostituto’s eyes reflected the twinkle in the Pontiff’s. “I learned from a Master, Holy Father.”

He got a faint snort, in response. “Very well, indeed. All right, if this comes off, let me know. I’ll want you to join Carlo and myself in briefing Joseph.”

“But of course, Holy Father.” The diplomat rose, and meticulously replaced the papers on the Pope’s desk, then realigned his chair at right angles. “Benedicite.”

“Deo Gratias, Tenda.”

Sovereign States

Araceli hurried along, frowning slightly to herself. "Do you think it's dangerous?"

Holy Vatican See

Helga showed up for her meeting with the Legate, dressed as usual and with little to no expression.

Excalbia

Stoiries smiled a little. "This really is a nice day."

Umbra, Captial of Saxmere

Although President Caine and the Confederation delegation had retired for the night, the Saxmereans continued to meet. Governor Peller realized during their discussions with Caine that there were far more divisions on the Saxmerean side that he had believed. He had also realized that no one on the Saxmerean side had expected these to be genuine negotiations. Yet, he had sensed in the President a willingness to engage in a genuine give and take.

So, Peller had asked the members of his delegation to remain late into the evening so that they could work out a common negotiating position and prepare for tomorrow’s discussions. To their credit, not a single member of the delegation had left.

Peller looked around the table. “Well, ladies and gentleman, it seems we have a lot of work to do to come to a common position.”

Lieutenant Governor Douglas Aldaris frowned. “With all do respect, Governor, the parliament has spoken. The official position of our government must be unconditional recognition of our independence.”

“Mr. Aldaris,” Marty Trundlemann of Saxmereans for Christian Social Concern said gruffly, “as I recall, the parliament’s declaration was provisional. And there are people who want to remain in the Confederation. Surely you recall Paul Mardan’s demonstration.”

Parliamentarian Jacqueline Sanders sniffed. “Mr. Mardan is in a minority, sir.”

“So are we, in the Confederation as a whole, Miss Sanders,” Trundlemann said.

“Now,” Sean Peller said, “this isn’t getting us any where. The question is, I believe, is there anything those who support independence would be willing to accept in order to remain in the Confederation?”

“President Caine’s resignation!” Union leader Colin Hannigan chuckled.

“He’d never accept that,” Commander Mike Mackeown of the State Police murmured.

“We can’t limit ourselves,” Peller said. “So, yes, we’ll add that to the list. And we also need to consider what the opponents of independence would find necessary to support independence.” Peller looked around with a warm and comforting smile. “Now, let’s get to work.”

Hours later, the meeting finally ground to an end. They had not made as much progress as Peller had hoped. But there had been progress. Peller looked down at the list he had drawn up. “Alright, then,” he said, “before we all go to bed, I’ll read what we have so far.

“Supporters of independence list the following demands as preconditions for remaining in the Confederation: President Caine’s resignation; a constitutional amendment granting Saxmere autonomy, including the right to nullify Confederation economic policies in Saxmere and the right to re-establish the grand ducal throne, in a symbolic capacity; and the Confederation’s renunciation of any all defence pacts with Knootoss.

“Opponents of independence wish the following guarantees before supporting independence: an agreement to hold a state-wide referendum on independence; an agreement to form a free-trade association between Saxmere and the Confederation; an agreement to a separate referendum on re-establishing the grand ducal throne and a non-aggression pact between Saxmere and the Confederation.”

Peller looked up and smiled. “That was a lot of work. Let’s all go home and get some sleep.”

New Hope, Capital of the Sovereign State of Deandra

“Madame President,” Allan Jackson, the senior Assemblyman from New Hope said rising, “I request unanimous consent to introduce resolution 05-01254 into the committee of the whole.”

“Without objection, it is so ordered,” Assembly President Michelle Caffeyo said, banging her gavel. “Read the resolution,” Caffeyo said, turning to the secretary of the Assembly.

The chamber of Deandra unicameral state legislature was large and rectangular and looked not unlike a large theatre.

“Be it resolved by the this honourable Assembly,” the secretary said, “that a Constitutional Assembly should be called, in accordance with Article I, Section 4, sub-section B, for the purpose of reforming the government of the Confederation of Sovereign States.”

The Assembly erupted into a cacophony of whistles, applause and jeers. President Caffeyo pounded her gavel and shouted, “This Assembly shall come to order! The Assembly shall come to order!”

After several moments, calm returned and Jackson stood again.

“The chair recognizes the senior Assemblyman from New Hope.”

“Madame, I ask for unanimous consent to call a vote…”

“I object,” Harold Akimbe, leader of New Liberal Party.

Caffeyo nodded. “Is there a new motion on the floor?”

“Yes, Madame President,” Akimbe said, “I move for an immediate recess to allow consultations in the party caucuses.”

“Seconded,” several voices called out.

“I object,” Jackson said, “unless the honourable Assemblyman will amend his motion to call for an immediate debate on the resolution after the recess.”

“I will amend my motion, Madame President.”

“Very well. Without objection, it is so ordered.” Caffeyo banged her gavel. “The Assembly will stand in recess until 2 pm.”

Umbra, Captial of the Sovereign State of Saxmere

Rihards Krauklis nodded as he listened to the Knootian. “Of course,” he said. “We are hoping to find a useful mechanism to allow the Saxmereans to opt out, while allowing the reforms to continue in the more advanced states.”

Krauklis leaned back. “The President might be right; maybe we have been moving too quickly. Perhaps we need to go back and educate the people about the Market and the true freedom it provides.

“That is an area where your people could be of assistance. We are relatively small in numbers and bringing more people into the Order has to be one of our priorities.”

On the A-6 Expressway, Near the Alud State Border

“Not dangerous. Exactly,” Thomas said opening the doors for Araceli and the others. “But, I do want to get over the mountains before dark. The road is good and is four lanes all the way across the Gauja, but it isn’t well lit and visibility will be limited in the high mountains.”

Thomas started the engine. “We’d better hurry.”

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During the previous day, the Osprey carrying Chancellor Schlabel and his staff arrived aboard the destroyer Alfkonur. As the one eyed head of government walked through the lines of rigid marines presenting arms and sailors saluting he was moving as though on parade, his mien grim and purposeful…though in fact he was weary and concerned. Behind him came Siegfried Schertz, who headed the Foreign Office’s Desk for North Atlantic Affairs; Una von Beck, the Ministry of Information’s counterpart to Schertz, as well as a small huddle of advisors on international and nautical law. Once in his stateroom however he had all but collapsed. He knew he could do this; he had been under great stresses before, but he was feeling like a man trying to balance a number of valuable and delicate plates while moving through a minefield. After a brief prayer he had fallen into deep slumber.

He was aware that at some point before he reached the waters around Saxmere that there would be some kind of meeting between envoys of the Vatican and the Government back home. There had been a long conference between himself, the acting Primate and Empress Aurora, and it had been a humbling one. He took pleasure in this strange troika: between his faith, his devotion to the girl who had been set to rule over the country and his belief in himself he believed he had found the way for Lavenrunz.

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

“Really?” Sarah Harrington sipped her wine and smiled. “My husband is something of a car enthusiast.” She laughed softly. “I told him that I had a feeling he should come today.” She shook her head twice. “He doesn’t usually like to attend official functions; but, he would have enjoyed chatting with you about cars.”

Sarah glanced over the crowd. The Chancellor was apparently engaging the Knootian ambassador in conversation while the chattering gossips of the court sighed and nodded to each other. The Deputy Minister of State shrugged and turned back to Lady Stoiries with a smile.

“Tell me, your Excellency, what kind of cars do you favor? My husband fancies antiques – 1950’s models and earlier. He has five. Sometime you might be interested in stopping by for a visit.”

* * *

Lady Christina Freedman shook the Knootian Ambassador’s hand firmly and returned his good-natured smile with one of her own. “You do not need to worry about your dress, your Excellency; it is rather… unique, but charming. Indeed, it is good to see at least a few others trying to get into the spirit of the evening. There are far too many suits and evening dresses for such lovely spring evening.”

The Chancellor took Ms. Goodblood’s hand and gave her a firm handshake. It was as obvious that Goodblood was younger than the Ambassador as it was that their names were some kind of play on each other. Bloodgood. Goodblood. The Chancellor smiled. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Goodblood,” she said as she wondered if that was either of their real names.

The Chancellor, of course assumed that either the Ambassador or his wife or both were AIVD agents. Nevertheless, they seemed pleasant enough.

“I hope you are both enjoying your stay in the Citadel. How do you find our country so far? Not as boring and pompous as our reputation, I hope.”

* * *

Bishop Slesers bowed his head slightly. “It would be my pleasure, your Excellency.” He gestured towards Bishop Repse. “Your staff my contact Bishop Repse’s staff in the Secretariat; they can arrange my schedule to suit yours.” He bowed again. “I look forward to our dinner.”

Stoiries laughed lightly. "Oh, no, no, you misunderstand. I don't collect cars or build them to model. I make them from scratch using my own designs. No self-respecting Nocker would confine herself to aping even the finest work in the field!"
...
Aracali hopped into the car. "Let's go then."

Stoiries laughed lightly. "Oh, no, no, you misunderstand. I don't collect cars or build them to model. I make them from scratch using my own designs. No self-respecting Nocker would confine herself to aping even the finest work in the field!"


"Fascinating," Sarah said, her eyes widening slightly in genuine surprise. "So, you design and build your own cars? Street models or racers?" She smiled and shook her head. "I told my husband he should have come! Now, I know I need to introduce the two of you. If you are willing, that is."

Stoiries shrugged. "Not at all. When would you like me to drop by?"

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Sarah Harrington smiled. “Assuming that we can avoid a war this week,” she nodded slightly in the direction of the Knootian ambassador as she spoke, “my husband and I would love to have you over this week. Two days from today? About 6 in the evening?”

Some distance away from the Deputy Minister of State, Emperor David IV glanced at his watch and looked up to excuse himself from his guest. He leaned over and whispered to his wife, then looked up towards the balcony above the grand portico of the summer palace and nodded.

On cue, the conductor stopped the light composition for strings and woodwinds that had been playing. With a wave of his baton the trumpeters began playing ruffles and flourishes.

Across the lawn and gardens, conversations stopped and everyone turned to look towards the portico. The Emperor stood on the portico, casually attired but still carrying himself with a commanding sense of presence.

The ensemble played a few bars of the Imperial anthem and all the Excalbians present came to some semblance of attention. Those few partygoers in uniform came to full attention and saluted. As the final notes of the anthem faded, David IV looked over the crowd and smiled.

“Friends,” the Emperor said, his voice carrying without a microphone, “I thank you for joining us on this lovely spring evening. I know many of you must we wondering why I would chose to host this evening’s gathering in the midst of the gathering clouds of international conflict.” The Emperor paused and seemed to look directly down at the Knootian ambassador. “The reason is simple – when is there a better time to pause and enjoy the beauty of our homeland and the company of friends and colleagues than in the middle of trials and tribulations?

“Let this evening be a moment for all of us to be refreshed and renewed. Let us be reinvigorated for the challenges that lie ahead. Let us prepare ourselves to be steadfast and courageous, even as we prepare ourselves to be open-minded and flexible.

“Tomorrow, I will declare a national day of prayer. I invite all of you – and all of the nation - to join me in praying for peace and for justice.

“But, for tonight,” the Emperor looked, his eyes passing over the crowd until his gaze settled on the Empress Elizabeth, “let us all enjoy ourselves and let the worries of tomorrow take care of themselves.”

The Emperor bowed slightly and the ensemble resumed its earlier composition. As the Emperor made his way back to the Empress, he felt pleased with himself. He thought his speech had gone well. Well enough that he had almost believed it himself.

Aboard INV Reliant, Off the East Coast of the Excalbian Isles

VADM Tucker Norland stepped into his stateroom and nodded to acknowledge his steward. Without a word, the steward, dressed impeccably in a white uniform with the three blue chevrons of a chief petty officer, took the admiral’s hat and jacket and neatly hung them.

As Norland sat heavily on the small sofa across from his worktable, the steward ducked through the hatch and returned a minute later with a tray carrying a cup of coffee. The steward sat the tray on the table and came to attention. “Will be taking dinner in the wardroom or in your cabin, sir?”

Norland shook his head. “I’m not hungry this evening, Johansson.” The admiral looked up at his steward’s stern frown and smiled in spite of himself. “Though perhaps I will take a bowl of soup and a sandwich.”

The steward smiled. “Very good, sir,” he said with a bow, then departed.

Alone in the stateroom, Norland stood and drifted over to his desk and the framed picture of Tasha he kept there. He held the picture for what seemed like forever, then set it down. He turned on his computer terminal and keyed the vocal interface.

Norland did not regard the D.A.I.N. artificial intelligences as being as “real” as Tasha did; however, there was no denying that they were no longer just mindless machines. He did not carry on conversations as his wife did, but he had found he liked talking to them better than he like typing.

“D.A.I.N,” Norland said softly.

“Yes, Admiral Norland,” the computer’s voice replied, sounding oddly like a child’s voice echoing in a cavern.

“I would like to send an e-mail to Brigadier General Tasha Norland in New Boston.”

“I am ready to record, Admiral. Whenever you are ready.”

“Dearest Tasha,” Norland began, “The days grow monotonous at sea without you. We sit and watch the Knootians and, for the most part, they sit and watch us. Other VERITAS fleets – from the Austrar Union and the High Kingdom – stand by. Watching, but giving us a wide berth. We are all waiting for something to happen; hoping for it and dreading for it at the same time.

“We long for the thrill of battle and shudder at the cost and despair at the implications.

“I miss you. I have never regretted being at sea. Until now. I wish you were with me here, yet I am glad you are not. I think the implications of having our Marine divisions embarked with us would be far graver than a mere blockade.

“So, I am glad we are without our Marines. And that you are home. Yet, how I miss you.

“Our crew is performing remarkably. Despite the tedium, they remain diligent to their tasks. The younger officers are competent and creative. I feel the Navy is in good hands with these young men and women.

“And that leads me to think that, perhaps, this will be the last time I put out to sea. Once I come home, I think I shall lay aside my commission; let a younger and more eager officer take my command and retire myself to the pleasures of home and hearth.

“We hear that Lavenrunzian vessels have entered the quarantine zone and are making for Saxmere. Surely this means negotiations are about to commence. I pray they meet with success and that, with good fortune and the kindness of providence, the Fleet will return home soon.

“Until then, your forever, Tucker.”

Norland sighed and sat again on the sofa. “End message.”

“Message ended, Admiral.”

“Please send it. Priority.”

“I shall relay it directly through my counterpart at New Boston. Message sent.” A pause. “Relayed.” Another pause. “Delivered to Tasha.”

Norland smiled. Ever since she had helped the D.A.I.N.s gain recognition of their autonomy, every single one of them had felt free to refer her by her first name. And regard her as a friend. If, indeed, computers can have friends.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Admiral.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

“What can I say, never a dull moment” the ambassador replied with a smile. “I have found Excalbia to be a most intriguing assignment, certainly quite a change from my former line of work.”

The flattery that Lady Christina Freedman desired came to the ambassador easily.

“And to the contrary, your Excellency, I have found your nation quite intriguing, and its people deserving of respect. In fact, the other day I…

Suddenly the the trumpeters began playing ruffles and flourishes, and the ambassador and his wife turned to look towards the portico as everyone else appeared to be looking there. He listened to the Emperors speech, noting his decided glare with some unease. When the Emperor withdrew, the Knootian waited for a few respectful seconds before turning again to Lady Freedman.

“An admirable sentiment by the Emperor”; he said with affirmation. “One that I can only support duly.” He paused for a moment, looking down at the floor.

“In fact, there are some people of good will in my own nation as well, who hope for some high-minded ideals to be restored.” The Knootian lowered his voice. “I mean not to bother you with grave affairs at such a wonderful party, but I just managed to obtain this... document... just before I left. It was written by one of our potential new Prime Ministers, Mr. Daatman, to be published and sent to involved parties and the press by tomorrow or perhaps the day after that.” He smiled conspiratorially “Normally I do not ferry around messages for Liberal politicians but Your Excellency might find this particular message of interest as it is also likely to reflect the position our foreign minister may take at the upcoming negotiations on the Lavenrunzian vessel.”

He fished a small Knootian data padd from the pocket of his shorts, bringing up a message with the click of a button. With a small frown he fiddled with the message to get a translation in English, which he then handed to his conversation partner.

“I understand that it is a bit much to read, but I felt that giving it to you in person might be preferable to going through normal diplomatic channels or the media.”


A letter from Jan Willem Daatman, SLP candidate for Prime Minister of Knootoss
In preparation for the Lavenrunz negotiations

To all involved parties,

Several days ago, I gave note to the governments of the nations now involved in the political conflict in the North Atlantic, requesting them to state, more definitely than they had yet been stated by either group of belligerents, the terms upon which they would deem it possible to come to an agreement.

I am writing to you as an individual, and yet I am writing also, of course, as a candidate to be the responsible head of a great government, and I feel confident that I am about to write is what the people of the Dutch Democratic Republic would wish me to write.

May I not add that I hope I hope and believe that I am in effect speaking for liberals and friends of freedom in every nation and of every program of liberty? I would fain believe that I am speaking for the silent mass of sentient beings everywhere who have as yet had no place or opportunity to speak their real hearts out concerning the death and ruin they fear to come upon the persons and the homes they hold most dear.

I have sought this opportunity to address you because I, as the head of the party destined with the final determination of our international obligations, thought that I owed it to you to disclose to you without reserve the thought and purpose that have been taking form in my mind in regard to the duty of our Government in the days to come when it will be necessary to lay afresh and upon a new plan the foundations of peace among the nations. This is also the message I have given to our Foreign Minister Hans van Mierlo, whom I consider to be the liberal bringer of peace with Tanah Burung. He will be attending the negotiations between the Confederation and representatives of the State of Saxmere and their foreign allies.

It is inconceivable that the people of the Dutch Democratic Republic should play no part in that great enterprise. To take part in such a service will be the opportunity for which we have sought to prepare ourselves by the very principles and purposes of our polity and the approved practices of our government ever since the days when Johan Rudolf Vogels wrote the Constitution for up a new nation in the high and honourable hope that it might, in all that it was and did, show mankind the way to liberty.

My country cannot in honour withhold the service to which it is now about to be challenged. We do not wish to withhold it. But we owe it to ourselves and to the other nations of the world to state the conditions under which we will feel free to render it.

That service is nothing less than this, to add our authority and our power to the authority and force of other nations to guarantee peace and justice throughout the region. Such a settlement cannot now be long postponed.

The present conflict in the Excalbian Isles must first be ended; but we owe it to candour and to a just regard for the opinion of the international community to say that, so far as our participation is concerned, it makes a great deal of difference in what way and upon what terms it is ended. The treaties and agreements which bring it to an end must embody terms which will create a peace that is worth guaranteeing and preserving, a peace that will win the approval of the international community and the peoples involved, not merely a peace that will serve the several interests and immediate aims of the nations engaged.

No covenant of cooperative peace that does not include the peoples of the North Atlantic can suffice to keep the future safe against a conflict, or even a war; and yet there is only one sort of peace that Knootoss could join in guaranteeing. The elements of that peace must be elements that engage the confidence and satisfy Knootian principles, elements consistent with our political faith and with the practical convictions which the peoples of Knootoss have once and for all embraced and undertaken to defend.

I do not mean to say that any Knootian government would throw any obstacle in the way of any terms the governments now directly in conflict might agree upon or seek to upset them when made, whatever they might be. I only take it for granted that mere terms of an agreement between the belligerents will not satisfy even the belligerents themselves. Mere agreements will not make peace in the North Atlantic secure.

The terms of the immediate settlement agreed upon will determine whether it is a peace for which such a guarantee can be secured. The question upon which this depends is this: is the present conflict in the streets of Saxmere and upon the waves of the Atlantic a struggle for a just and secure arrangement, or only a drive for a new balance of power? If it is only a struggle for a new balance of power, who will guarantee, who can guarantee the stable equilibrium of the new arrangement? Only a tranquil North Atlantic region can be a stable North Atlantic Region. There must be, not a balance of power, but a community of power; not organized rivalries, but an organized common peace.

The statesmen of both of the groups of nations now arrayed against one another have said, in terms that could not be misinterpreted, that it is no part of the purpose they have in mind to crush their antagonists. I think it will be serviceable if I attempt to set forth what we understand them to be.

They imply, first of all, that it must be a settlement without a perceived victory for any side. It is not pleasant to say this, and I beg that I may be permitted to put my own interpretation upon it. I am seeking only to face realities and to face them without soft concealments. “Victory” would mean a settlement forced upon the loser, a victor's terms imposed upon the vanquished. It would be accepted in humiliation, under duress, at an intolerable sacrifice, and would leave a sting, resentment, a bitter memory upon which terms of peace would rest, not permanently, but only as upon quicksand. Only a settlement between equals can last. Only a settlement the very principle of which is equality and a common participation in a common benefit. The right state of mind, the right feeling between nations, is as necessary for a lasting peace as is the just settlement of vexed questions of territory or of racial, religious and national allegiance.

No peace can last, or ought to last, which does not recognize and accept the principle that governments derive all their just powers from the consent of the governed, and that no right anywhere exists to hand peoples about from sovereignty to sovereignty as if they were property.

I take it for granted that statesmen everywhere are agreed that there should be a united, independent, and autonomous Confederation, but also that henceforth inviolable security of life, of worship, and of industrial and social development should be guaranteed to all peoples under the power of governments devoted to a faith and purpose hostile to their own.

I write this, not because of any desire to exalt an abstract political principle which has always been held very dear by those who have sought to build up liberty in Knootoss but for the same reason that will write you about the other conditions of a settlement which seem to me clearly indispensable-because I wish frankly to uncover realities. Any settlement which does not recognize and accept this principle will inevitably be upset. It will not rest upon the affections or the convictions of the peoples of the North Atlantic. The ferment of spirit of whole populations will fight subtly and constantly against it, and all the world will sympathize. The Atlantic region can be at peace only if its life is stable, and there can be no stability where the will is in rebellion, where there is not tranquillity of spirit and a sense of justice, of freedom, and of right.

In addition, the path of trade must alike in law and in fact be free. The freedom of the peoples to trade is the sine qua non of peace, equality, and cooperation. No doubt a somewhat radical reconsideration of many of the current relations hitherto thought to be established may be necessary in order to make trade indeed free and common in practically all circumstances, but the motive for such changes is convincing and compelling. There can be no trust or intimacy between the peoples of the world without it. The free, constant, unthreatened intercourse of nations is an essential part of the process of peace and of development. It need not be difficult either to define or to secure the freedom to trade if the governments of the world sincerely desire to come to an agreement concerning it.

I am proposing, as it were, that the nations should with one accord adopt the doctrine that no nation should seek to extend its polity over any other nation or people, but that every people should be left free to determine its own polity, its own way of development, unhindered, unthreatened, unafraid, the little along with the great and powerful.

I am proposing that all nations of the North Atlantic henceforth avoid entangling alliances which would draw them into competitions of power; catch them in a net of intrigue and selfish rivalry, and disturb their own affairs with influences intruded from without. There is no entangling alliance in a concert of power. When all unite to act in the same sense and with the same purpose all act in the common interest and are free to live their own lives under a common protection.

I am proposing government by the consent of the governed; that freedom of trade which in international conference after conference representatives of the Dutch Democratic Republic have urged with the eloquence of those who are the convinced disciples of liberty.

These are Knootian principles, Knootian policies. I could stand for no others. And yet, they are also the principles and policies of forward looking men and women everywhere, of every modern nation, of every enlightened community. They are the principles of sentient peoples everywhere and they must prevail.

Signed,

~Jan Willem Daatman

Aboard the KDF Lely, off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

Men and machinery jammed the bridge of the Lely, tense yet cool as they awaited a report from the officer at the helm. At the heart of the undersea vessel, the giant instruments operating the diving planes and the Christmas tree of green and red lights, constantly gleaming and blinking, revealed whether valves and hatches are safely rigged for diving.

Navigators were pouring over the chart monitors while other specialists of the submarine fleet of the Knootian Defence Force eyed their gauges and instruments with calculating care as the vessel slid through the dark water below the surface, nearly drifting, but ever so slowly converging towards the rendez-vourz with the pale contact resembling the delayed Yutland.

Captain Merwede tipped her fingers as she said in her command chair. While it was only a mile or so to Confederate waters there was still the real risk of detection, with the added risk of the complicated manoeuvre. The sound of the Yutland’s screws was now nearly audible, like a whisper. The captain raised her hand while the computer calculated the exact moment to fire up the engines to match course and speed.

The submarine was alive now, after having drifted in the water like a dead fish made out of metal for so long. With Yutland right above her, she was now endeavouring to match the course and speed of the merchant while keeping, at the same time, still as quiet as possible.

Strained faces aboard the bridge of the Lely began to light up as the distance closed between Confederate, that invisible yet infinitely border in a shapeless body of water, a border existing only on the maps of seamen but which would nevertheless be their salvation – or so they felt.

“Just a few hundred meters more”, Merwede whispered to herself, “walk in the park.”

Amsterdam District, Knootcap, Dutch Democratic Republic

Lord James Reynolds sat down with a heavy thud. He had never liked to travel and, in particular, did not like busy airports like Citadel Excalbia’s Joshua II International or Amsterdam’s Schiphol.

The former intelligence chief reached into his pocket and tore open a packet of hand cleaning gel. The whole city made him feel dirty. Open drug use, immorality… It all made him despise the Knootians. Such a lack of discipline. It was disgraceful.

However, he reminded himself, the Knootians did have one advantage over his own far more moral and disciplined nation – it still respected private property and free enterprise. It was a joke of fate, he realized, that the last best hope of saving his homeland from the twin yokes of socialism and imperialism involved making use of Knootoss. He only hoped that it would be possible – somehow – to restore a Knootian-level of respect for free markets and private industry to Excalbia without bringing along its moral relativism and social decay.

Lord James stroked his beard with a now-clean hand. He reached into his pocket and opened his handheld PC. After checking his encryption, he went to his free e-mail account and looked to see if any of the Knootian journalists had answered his anonymous messages.

“Hee hallo!”, the former intelligence chief suddenly heard. A rather hurried man with a sweaty forehead sat down next to him. He was wearing a brown confection suit, and was carrying a laptop as well.

“Ik ben van de Telegraaf, u bent van de Excalbiaanse inlichtingendienst?” – it appeared to be a question to the Excalbian.

“Oh, sorry”, the man went on “uhm, do you speak Dutch or shall I speak English? I’m from the Telegraaf and I think we had arranged to meet here?”

Vaguely Related Post ™ (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9067814&postcount=117)

Stoiries offered a hand. "It's a date!"
...
Tasha smiled slightly to hear from her husband. "Thank you, Dain." she said. "Would you send a message back to Tucker for me?"

"My dearest love, I miss you at my side and yet we both understand duty. This is the life we've both choosen, the life of the warrior. Part of me yearns to have you around as much as I would were you to retire and yet it also brings me great sadness to watch you pass through the phases of life. We talked about mortality and immortality before the wedding, considered all the problems at length. I love you with all my heart and soul and my deepest sadness stems from the fact that I cannot grow old with you. Perhaps this is not the time to talk of this...

"It saddens me to hear of Danaan ships deployed with the Knootians and only makes my prayers for peace so much the more fervent.

"Yours Always, Tasha."

She sat back, sighing lightly. "What am I going to do, Dain?"

Chancellor Schlabel stood near the bow of the destroyer, not far from the main gun, as spray shot up around the gunwhales and crewmen moved back and forth in the course of their duties. He had been told that the Captain had hailed the local fleets to make sure of permission to enter Saxmerean waters and proceed.

Aboard INV Spectre, Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

“Skipper,” LT Janet Greene said, pointing to a monitor at the tactical display, “we have something from the drone.”

CDR Robyn Torvalde swiveled in her seat and looked at the monitor. The image was murky and eaten away by static. Yet, in the corner of the screen, faint but identifiable, was the unmistakable shape of a submarine.

“Gotcha, you Dutch s.o.b.,” Torvalde said with a smile. “Helm,” she said swiveling her chair, “intercept course…”

“Plotted, Captain,” the crewman said.

“Full speed. Emergency power.”

“Aye, aye.” The ship accelerated across the waves towards the slow-moving Yutland. “Captain,” the helmsman said, “Yutland will enter Confederation waters before we can intercept, Ma’am.”

Torvalde frowned.

“Should we order Yutland to hold and prepare to be boarded again, Skip?” Greene placed her hand on the back of the Captain’s seat and leaned forward as she waited for the CO’s answer.

“No,” Torvalde shook her head after a few moments, “Yutland is already close enough to the line that the Knootians could make a run for it and get across before we could intercept. “I think it’s better in this case to just let the drone follow it.” The captain turned to the helm. “Break off the intercept.”

“Aye, aye, Ma’am.”

Torvalde turned to the tactical station and watched the display. “Focus that on the sub. At the first sign it’s moving away from Yutland, we jump off and try to latch onto the sub.”

“Aye, Captain,” the Tac officer said.

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

Lady Christina Freedman smiled and nodded at Knootian Ambassador insincere flattery of the Holy Empire until she turned to listen to the Emperor’s remarks.

After the Emperor finished speaking, she turned back to Bloodgood. “Yes, a very honourable sentiment,” she agreed, as she watched the Knootian fish around in pockets.

A veteran politician, Lady Freedman did not let her surprise show when the ambassador began talking in hushed tones about a message from an opposition politician in the DDR. Instead, she let a mild expression of curiosity show through as she took the data pad and began reading.

The sentiments in the message were mostly laudable. And the possibility of dissension in the Knootian camp clearly raised some intriguing possibilities. Yet, she could not dismiss the fact that Bloodgood was the ambassador of the current Knootian government and, in all likelihood, an agent of the AIVD.

The chancellor finished reading the message and handed the pad back to the ambassador. Her response to this… overture… would need to be delicately crafted.

“A very reasonable statement of principles and interests, your Excellency. If they truly reflect the negotiating position of the DDR, then our negotiations have a good chance for success.”

She looked around to see that the surrounding guests and courtiers had lost their interest following the Emperor’s speech and had returned to their own conversations.

“I can agree at the outset to the principle that any enduring peace in must be built on the establishment of governments that rule with the consent of the governed. I can also agree that the ties of trade and commerce are an important part of any enduring peace.

“However, I do note that Mr. Daatman seems to presume that it is the will of the peoples of the Confederation to maintain a united Confederation.

“Our position has always been that, since the states of the Confederation represent sovereign entities, their individual peoples have the right of self-determination that Mr. Daatman so eloquently defended. If the people of Saxmere wish to remain in the Confederation, we certainly have no desire to force them out or annex them. If, however, they wish to be independent, then we believe all free peoples should recognize that independence.”

The chancellor studied Bloodgood’s expression. “I suspect that our positions remain rather far apart.” Lady Freedman flashed her famous smile. “However, with a general agreement on the principles of self-determination, ruling with the consent of the governed and the benefits of free international commerce, I believe we will have a common ground for negotiations.”

(OOC: More tomorrow morning; lots of RL stuff going on today...)

The Resurgent Dream
The High Priestess was received cordially by the Bishop’s staff. The Legation was a rambling, unpretentious building, pleasantly laid out in the midst of a fine garden, but the only really impressive part was a large, elegant room which might have once been a ballroom, but which served now as a Chapel.

Still, the rest of the rooms were generously-proportioned, if a trifle outdated in style, and comfortably furnished. Some very fine bits of artwork, mostly with religious themes, were displayed here and there, and it was clear from the workmanship that not all of it was created by human hands. A beautifully-wrought iron crucifix, in a graceful, stylized technique, was particularly fine, as was an exquisitely-rendered original lithograph of a slightly exasperated-looking St. Patrick expostulating with a pair of brilliantly-green snakes on a rocky seashore. Many of the works combined reverence with wit, and all were a pleasure to look upon.

The sister who escorted Helga to the Bishop’s sitting room smiled amiably. “His Excellency is just finishing Mass; he’ll be with you in a moment.” She made a little clucking noise with her tongue, and fastened the small bolt designed to hold one of the casement windows open. A waft of scent from the garden was borne in on the breeze that had set the casement swaying.


Excalbia
Archbishop returned Slesers’ bow. “Indeed, I am looking forward to it as well. Bishop Repse can expect to hear from Sister Magda tomorrow. It will be an excellent opportunity to become better acquainted.”


Lavenrunz
As soon as Archbishop Kronstein had returned to Lavenrunz, he had his secretary send in a request for a meeting with the Foreign Minister. He’d met (albeit briefly) with Madame von Konigsmark, but only to exchange formalities.

Archbishop Kronstein, of Lavenrunzian extraction himself, appreciated formalities. They helped maintain diplomatic equilibrium. He could be a bit gruff on occasion, with his staff or colleagues, but his diplomatic punctilio was never lacking. In this case, the formal note requested half an hour of the Minister’s time, to acquaint her with matters discussed during his recent consultation in Rome, that might be of interest to Her Majesty’s government.

Helga ducked through the doors of the Legation, smiling faintly at the art work. She seemed to almost shine as she took it in. She noted that some of the artwork seemed not to have been made by human hands, of course, but she wasn't absolutely sure. One of the things which Helga found most fascinating and, to be honest, impressive about humans was the enormous cultural and even physical diversity within humankind.

The chapel was likely to have been a formal ballroom. Quite a few, even a majority, of the Legations, Consulates, and Embassies in Tarana were housed in buildings once held by some noble or other back in the old days, under High Queen Corrina, when every noble in Shieldcrest, even including the knights, had felt the need to have at least one permanent residence in Tarana. When those days ended, the properties escheated to the throne and were, in turn, sold to foreign governments.

Helga nodded to the nun. "Thank you, sister." She looked around to see if there was any chair which would fit her form.

The Foreign Ministry, Hofburg, Lavenrunz

As soon as Archbishop Kronstein had returned to Lavenrunz, he had his secretary send in a request for a meeting with the Foreign Minister. He’d met (albeit briefly) with Madame von Konigsmark, but only to exchange formalities.

Archbishop Kronstein, of Lavenrunzian extraction himself, appreciated formalities. They helped maintain diplomatic equilibrium. He could be a bit gruff on occasion, with his staff or colleagues, but his diplomatic punctilio was never lacking. In this case, the formal note requested half an hour of the Minister’s time, to acquaint her with matters discussed during his recent consultation in Rome, that might be of interest to Her Majesty’s government.

Ushered in by a polite young aide, Kronstein found himself in the neat and pleasantly scented rooms of Aurora von Konigsmark. That tall, slender and elegant lady rose from behind her desk and smiling came to exchange bows with Kronstein. "My dear Archbishop, I am very glad to see you! I do hope that your journey from the Holy See was uneventful and pleasant. Please, do sit down and tell me the latest news!"

Amsterdam District, Knootcap, Dutch Democratic Republic

Lord James Reynolds winced at the reporter’s directness and his lack of discretion. “Yes,” he said under his breath, “we did arrange to meet. But I think we should keep our conversation rather quiet, sir.”

As he spoke, Lord James silently called up the reporter’s file and enlarged the imbedded file photo. He glanced at the man beside him and turned back to the image on his handheld PC.

Once he was satisfied that the man was in fact the Telegraaf reporter he had planned to meet, the former intelligence chief casually reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small envelope. He carefully looked around to make sure no was watching, then laid it on the table. “Take the envelope and read what’s inside. If it is interesting to you, meet me in the bar on the top floor in ten minutes and I may have more for you.”

Lord James shut off his handheld PC and tucked it back into his pocket and stood, hurrying off.

Inside the envelope was a brief note, which read:

Over the last few years, the traditional rights and liberties of the Excalbian Empire have been steadily eroded by increasing socialistic and imperialistic policies on the part of the Emperor and his ministers. Left unchecked, these trends will push Excalbia and Knootoss to war. And destroy all that Excalbia once aspired to be.

I am willing to anonymously provide you with information that will prove the corruption, hypocrisy and deceit of the Emperor, his government and the Imperial Household.

Two examples are attached.

Stapled to the note were two sheets of the paper. The first contained a number of reduced copies of memos showing that the Emperor had entered into a secret alliance with the Commonwealth of Varessa and Pantocratorian Empire to invade Upper Virginia without the authority of the Imperial Senate. The second sheet juxtaposed official Imperial policy opposing gay marriage with suggestive photos of Princess Christianna, the Emperor’s sister, in the company of other women and memos written on Imperial Household letterhead directing that the Princess’ relationships be concealed from the press and public.

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

“It’s a date,” Sarah said shaking the ambassador’s hand.

* * *

“Excellent,” Slesers agreed. “I will look forward to it.”

Imperial Naval Station, New Boston

“Tasha,” DAIN said, “I do not think you need to worry too much.” The artificial intelligence seemed to be trying to sound optimistic and reassuring. “Statistically speaking and based on his most recent physical, Vice Admiral Norland should live for yet several decades. My counterpart aboard Reliant who relayed the message to me believes he is expressing his frustration with the current situation.”

The computer fell silent, as if in thought. “I believe that my counterpart may be correct in part. But I also believe that the admiral is expressing a desire for a change in his life situation. Such a desire is reputedly common in human males of his age.”

DAIN paused again. “Tasha, may I ask, how you feel to adjusting to a life outside the military? Perhaps this is what the admiral seeks.”

Tasha pondered that question for a long moment. "If it's what Tucker wants...I'd do just about anything for that man. However, I'm not sure what else I would do. I've been a warrior my entire life. I had always planned to be a warrior for all of eternity. I suppose I could do well in law enforcement or security or maybe even some prosperous areas of entertainment, but, in entertainment, I'd feel that I was being paid more for my....novelty....than my talents."

Tasha steepled her fingers together, focusing in. "What do you think Tucker wants to do now? With his reputation, he could probably go into politics. I might be a liability there, to be perfectly honest. Excalbia is a liberal country about such matters, even compared to other free nations like Pantocratoria, but...still."

"Dain, there's something I've always wondered. Do you and your counterparts in other systems experience love like Tucker and I do with one another?"

The Resurgent Dream

Finding an appropriate chair, Helga sat, crossing her legs modestly.

Ainnle was disvesting after Mass, when the message was brought to him. He smiled, and thanked the Sister, and took a moment to plaster the scanty fringe of white hair around the crown of his head down neatly. There was a short cut through one of the gardens, so he entered the reception room through one of the big french windows.

Helga stood when the Bishop entered.

"High Priestess! You honor me greatly," he bowed, beaming. Helga returned the bow. "I had told you I would be by."

"Indeed, and it is a pleasure to receive you. May I offer you refreshment?" he asked, with some diffidence. He'd not been in the Resurgent Dream long enough to sort out what was considered polite among all the various groups of people.

"I will have whatever you are having."

Hmmm... a poser, that. But she must be reasonably familiar with the preferences and habits of humans, after all. So he stepped over to the door, and beckoned to the Sister sitting at the reception desk. "Sister, will you bring us a tea-tray, with herbal and black teas, both iced and hot? Many thanks..." Presumably the kitchen staff could cope. He returned, and sat, gesturing for the High Priestess to make herself comfortable. "Please, unless it would be a breach of manners, can we be informal, High Priestess?"

Helga sat herself, inclining her head. "I can indeed. Feel free to call me Helga."

"Ah... thank you. And I am Brendan. Please, I must ask your indulgence, in advance, for any inadvertent breaches of manners. I am still learning my way about, as it were, and corrections are most gratefully received."

The Trolless nodded. "I think you will actually find things less different than you expect."

He smiled. "I have been continually delighted and reassured by the kindness I've found everywhere in the Resurgent Dream. But as a diplomat, it is of course my job also to learn as much as I can about, and adapt to my hosts' culture."

Helga nodded. "Is there anything I might help you with?"

"Well, you might tell me about your own people. I have met very few, thus far."

"Very well. Trolls make up roughly four per cent of the Resurgent Dream's population. We tend to be stronger than the baseline and have a very hard will to break. Traditionally, Trolls are bound by something called the Code of Dagda. Many of our names and traditions tend to be of Norse extraction and we are believed to have originated in Scandinavia."

Bishop Ainnle smiled delightedly "That makes sense, considering the strong links between Norse and Celtic peoples. There is much crossover in the histories and literary/mythic traditions, as well."

Helga inclined her head slightly. "There are fairies with no links to the Celts. For example, the Nunnehi are of Amerindian extraction."

"Indeed, and we understand there are Asian peoples whose nature could also be considered fairy?"

"Yes, the Hsien. The shinto understanding of the Hsien, while never negative, has been a very complicated theological issue and one subject to great diversity, given the lack of authorative shinto religious organization."

As they spoke, a short, rather rotund but pleasant-looking Sister came in with the tea tray, and they paused for a moment, as the beverage was poured.

"Well, our own –Catholics, that is—understanding of the peoples new to us, is quite complicated. We have much to learn. Fortunately, the Church is diligent in both scholarship and scientific enquiry. If things go well, we will probably look for an opportunity to send some of our scholars here to the Resurgent Dream, since you are so wealthy in a diversity of peoples."

Helga nodded. "I am quite aware, Brendan. Though, we have also discussed this at length last night. I was hoping to discuss your doctrine of...Penance." She sipped her tea.

Bishop Ainnle's smile became luminous. "A most beautiful theology. Did you have specific questions?"

"Specifically, I am given to understand that you believe God forgives our sins rather than punishing them if we repent. Why, then, is a specific penance required for sins and how is it different from punishment?"

Bishop Ainnle considers for a moment, arranging the concepts. "It all has its roots in the nature of sin, which is, in our theology, essentially, actions which separate the individual from the communion."

"Go on."

"God's forgiveness is, as it were, his "reconnection" with the sinner; the penance is a way for the sinner to actively "reconnect" with God. It is a mutual relationship, you see." He took a sip of his tea, and set the cup down. His face was thoughtful.

"And the sinner would deserve Hell for any sin if it were not for God's grace?"

"Again, understanding the nature of sin is key to understanding the nature of grace. It is less a question of ‘deserve’ than it is of ‘consequence.’ If you touch fire, do you 'deserve' to be burned? Even if you do so accidentally, as it were? Sin IS separation from God."

"And Hell is eternal separation from God after the opportunity for reconciliation has passed with death?"

"Indeed... that is why the forgiveness of sins is such a grave matter... and the sacrament of penance is such a priceless gift of Christ's redemption."

"What happens if a good Catholic dies without the chance to receive the Sacrament?"

"In such an extremity, an Act of Contrition can fulfill the same sacramental function. A good Catholic who makes such an Act, even mentally, may receive the same grace, in such extreme circumstances. We cannot know what happens between the Soul and its Redeemer in those last moments during death... we trust to God's infinite mercy, but we also know the tragedy of man's stubborn and sinful nature."

Helga nodded. "But an Act of Contrition is not allowed to a Catholic who has access to Confession by a priest?"

"If a Catholic has access to a priest, the 'extreme circumstances' situation does not apply, no."

"What happens if the death is truly instantaneous, allowing not even an instant of thought?"

"Again, we cannot know what happens in the infinity of life's end. But scientific research has, to date, validated the continuation of consciousness for some moments after the physical processes of death. Perhaps there is a window for mercy, there. The question, however, is the key to one element of our catechetical beliefs.”

"Oh?" Helga asked curiously.

“The need for regular participation in the sacrament of penance."

Helga nodded. "That would seem to follow from what you have said so far."

"Catholics are required, as part of the practice of their faith, to receive the sacrament of penance frequently. It is most recommended, of course, as preparation for receiving the Eucharist."

"In the movies, people often rush off to Confession after committing or realizing they have committed a particularly grave sin. Is that in any way accurate?"

Bishop Ainnle chuckled. "We wish it were very accurate... and it is a little accurate. But practice does not always conform to the ideal, among fallible mankind."

"Does the Church believe in demonic possession?"

"Technically, yes. We know that it is possible for the evil spirit to obtain control of individuals... but this is much misunderstood, exaggerated, and the fictionalized versions are most detrimental to a clear understanding of this extremely rare phenomenon."

Helga inclined her head, looking off thoughtfully for a moment. "What does the Church believe makes a person vulnerable to such possession?"

"Roughly, it would be the equivalent of a weak spiritual will." He chuckled a little ruefully. "And that doesn't sound very responsive, does it? But it is a complex matter, and we do not fully understand it ourselves. Suffice it to say that nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine out of a thousand cases of suspected 'demonic possession' can be traced to some logical physical or mental phenomenon or combination of phenomena, nothing to do with actual demonic possession. But the thousandth..."

Bishop Ainnle shrugged. "When you have thoroughly and diligently eliminated all other possibilities, and tested all of the manifestations against what is known theologically... That thousandth case, yes, may be a valid instance of demonic possession. And in every case, the circumstances are different, and often not all known. The Church has a healthy respect for what we cannot know, based on our limitations as mortal mankind. We know that we see through a glass, darkly."

Helga nodded. "I understand. I think I understand the Catholic conception of sin or at least the basics, though it does give me further questions about Thomas Aquinas.”

Bishop Ainnle laughed delightedly. "You have been reading Aquinas?"

Helga gave a slight smile. "A little. It might surprise you to know that Aquinas, Maimonides, and Averroes all used to be discussed extensively in the Comparative Theology classes at our seminary."

"A very rich tapestry of human moral development. The Summa is, of course, one of the seminal documents of our faith."

"I was aware. But it is more the commentaries on Aristotle that I was referring to. To a very large extent...they appropriate Aristotle into a Christian context, if I read them correctly."

"It is important to place Aquinas in his context, to understand the nuances of his work. In the medieval world, Aristotle was considered a template, as it were, for Christian philosophy. Aquinas, essentially, demonstrated how precise the template fitted."

"As Augustine did with Plato? Or Plotinus, to be precise?"

"Indeed, but with a sophistication appropriate to Aquinas' times. At the time, Aristotle had just been rediscovered by Western scholars. It was natural that a great many attempts to analyze, explain, fit into context, draw conclusions, and so on would be made. And made by many notable scholars. The importance of Aquinas was his clarity of doctrine, in that respect.”

The Bishop chuckled again. "He did not get pulled off-track, as it were, by the excitement of intellectual curiosity, the ferment of discovery."

Helga nodded. "To get more precisely to my question, how is the Thomist understanding of Aristotle's ethics related to the theological conception of sin?"

"It can best be described as the rational understanding of the causes and effects of sin."

"And the Church definitely upholds Aristotle as the proper understanding of sin as viewed through the lens of finite reason rather than faith?"

"It clarified that sin was not an arbitrary concept, a 'test' as it were, by a captious Deity... rather, it was integral to human nature, and the avenue for Divine Grace to redeem mankind into a perfect relationship with God through Christ."

Helga inclined her head. "I would agree...with the first part of that statement, at least."

"Aristotle's work helped to clarify the nature of sin and redemption. Our understanding transcends Aristotle, but Aristotle's understanding laid the groundwork, as it were, for our own."

"How do you feel about Kant?"

"Kant was a brilliant thinker who provided much insight into how humans conceptualize consciousness and ontological process. But the fundamental idea that ANYTHING can have "reality" separate from God is incompatible with Catholic belief."

"You didn't mention morality."

"Kant's concepts of phenomenal determinism and how they can co-exist with free will are interesting, but they fail the test of Occam's razor, in comparison with Catholic doctine." Bishop Ainnle 's eyes twinkled. "Could you expect me to say anything else?"

Helga laughed slightly at that. "To be honest, I had no idea what you would say."

"The Church permits... even encourages... philosophical exploration and speculation. After all, we learn as much--sometimes more--from error as from accuracy. But in the end, it is the repository of knowledge we call the Deposit of Faith, that provides the bedrock of our belief."

"Of course. But some philosophical systems, such as those of Plotinus and Aristotle, have been found compatible with the Deposit of Faith in the past, even if that was part of the problem the Protestants had."

"Indeed so. Truth has a very universal quality, it is one way that helps us to recognize it when we see it." The Bishop offered the High Priestess more tea, but she shook her head.

"I truly fail to understand Luther's unadulterated hatred for Aristotle."

"Well, Luther was trying to distance himself from what he saw as the underpinnings of error... He perceived the error as intrinsic in the doctrine, rather than in the corrupt traditions of the people leading the Church. It wasn't a totally illogical conclusion, given the many generations of persistent error in the face of diligent, even frantic, efforts to eradicate it."

"I do admire your dedication to seeing the good in even your worst critics," Helga said, sipping the last of her tea and setting the cup down.

"Only Satan himself is entirely evil. But you cannot find the good in people if you do not seek it out," the Bishop said.

"What about Satan's fallen host?"

Bishop Ainnle shrugged "I've never met any of them. Theoretically, with God all things are possible... they COULD repent, even though we believe they will not. And they were created initially as angels, after all."

Helga nodded. "You have been quite helpful, Brendan. I thank you for your time."

"Well, I should be thanking you, Helga. It is not often someone gives me the opportunity to discuss some of my favorite subjects in such juicy detail!" the Bishop's eyes twinkled again.

Helga smiled. This woman almost never smiled and he got several in one meeting. Then she stood. "Also, thank you for taking the time to see good in everyone. I know there are some in your Church who would not relish this assignment."

"It is a delight to me." He rose, and bowed politely. "I look forward to learning more about Danaan theology, as well. Perhaps you can provide me with texts?"

Helga rose and returned the bow. "I'll have them sent to you."

Politely, he escorted her to the door, and watched her leave down the flower-lined path. Helga walked on out, politely accepting the escort. "Take care, Brendan."

"God bless you, Helga."

The Archbishop, in his persona as diplomat, bowed very correctly, but (as befitted his prelacy,) to a nicely calculated depth that indicated respect for the Minister’s office while assuming the proper degree of spiritual authority.

“Minister von Konigsmark, a pleasure to see you. Yes, an uneventful journey from Rome.” He seated himself where the Minister indicated, and waited for her to make herself comfortable.

“In truth, I do not think that you will find much to surprise you in the news from Rome. Of course, the Holy Father is concerned about the situation in the North Atlantic; there is too much military hardware floating around the Excalbian Isles for comfort. Situations can so easily get out of hand, can they not? Even when all concerned have the most noble intentions.”

“Naturally, the knowledge that Lavenrunz has been accepted in a mediatory role by all major parties concerned was a considerable comfort to the Secretariat of State, and you may be assured that the Holy Father will be praying for the success of Chancellor Schlabel and his staff, in resolving the situation peacefully.” He smiled. “That is, without doubt, the most important priority from standpoint of the Holy See. We have great confidence that the Lavenrunzian influence will be strongly influential in bringing about such a resolution.”

“The Church, of course, does not take political positions, per se. But in our role as both the spiritual authority of Catholics in all of the nations concerned, and advocate for the moral and social principles we uphold, we do express opinions on particular matters of concern,” he said, slowly, watching the Minister. Her expression was pleasant, her nod indicated that she comprehended.

He sighed, and steepled his fingers. “In this particular matter, the difficulty is compounded by the mutual hostility between the Holy See and the organization known as the ‘Order of the Invisible Hand.’ I wish to make it absolutely clear that the Holy See does not regard that Order as being one and the same as the Knootian state; but we do have grave concerns about the amount of influence it wields there.”

He shrugged. “Economic issues seem to be at the core of the problem. The Church, while maintaining a steadfast support of private property and capitalist enterprise, is deeply wary of the effects of economic imperialism and unchecked financial exploitation. We have seen too many societies destabilized, polarized, and, ultimately, torn apart by disparities of wealth and opportunity, and the embrace of class warfare by the economically disenfranchised. The influence of the Order is not a healthy one, in this respect. The Church has nothing but respect for free enterprise and the easy flow of trade to the mutual benefit of all concerned, but we do hope that any settlement reached will not sacrifice the long-term economic benefit and self-determination of the Confederated Sovereign States.”

The Archbishop’s head canted, and he smiled. “Beyond that specific, I do not think that our positions are likely to be terribly controversial. Ideally, we would hope that all of the non-Isles parties can be persuaded to withdraw their involvement, and that the Caine government can—temporarily, at least—withdraw from KIST until negotiations within the Isles themselves have determined the status of mutual defense and trade relationships between the Isles powers, and the status of Saxmere. Of course, that is an ideal, and diplomacy is, as always, the art of the possible. Any solution that stands down the military threat and restores amity in the Islands will be welcome.”

“To that end, our prayers are with the Chancellor, and if there is anything I can do to facilitate communications, or otherwise advance a solution, I do hope you will honor me with an opportunity to assist.” He emphasized that with a little nod.

“And may I also reiterate the Holy Father’s personal congratulations and blessings to the Empress and people of Lavenrunz on the most joyous occasion of her Majesty’s nuptials? He has said a special Mass for the intention of her marriage, and I understand a representative attended the wedding and delivered the Holy Father’s best wishes.”

Von Konigsmark listened gravely, smiling occasionally, and with a sigh and a brief closing of her eyes bowed as the prelate mentioned the congratulations about the Imperial Marriage. "A most happy occasion." she said, as though inhaling a delightful scent. Then her grey-blue eyes opened fully and she steepled her fingers, regarding him thoughtfully. "Your position, or that of the Holy See, rather, is one that appears to be wise. And of course it is the Chancellor's plan to look to wisdom, impartiality and caution in the proceedings to come. After all, is this not the same Chancellor Schlabel who has enormously reduced Lavenrunz' tax burden and debt? One of the things that assured his support by the rest of the Constitutionalist Party was his determination to avoid adventurism."
Outside, it began to rain, at first a swift pattering that was followed by a thorough downpour, with rumbles of thunder and water streaking down the windows.

Kronstein smiled. “We have great confidence in the Chancellor. I’m sure that a productive settlement is still possible. Rome understands the situation is delicate; and we have no wish to add complications. However, we’re maintaining good communications between all of our diplomats in relevant postings, holding a watching brief, as it were.”

He canted his head. “The Resurgent Dream has expressed a willingness to assist, I understand. For what it is worth, our impression of their intentions is favorable, but we do feel that Lavenrunz should be the, ah, primary party, in the facilitation of any multi-party negotiations.”

With a nod, he rose. “I much appreciate your time, Minister. Please do not hesitate to contact me if I can facilitate communications with Rome, or among the relevant Vatican diplomats, in any way.”

"Thank you for coming, my dear Archbishop." said Aurora von Konigsmark in a friendly manner, rising and accompanying him to the door. "Your confidence is not misplaced, and we are grateful for it. I do hope you will include our fortunes in your prayers for a peaceful settlement. And yes, of course...Lavenrunz must be in the decisive position in this matter. Nothing else for it."

Chancellor Schlabel stood near the bow of the destroyer, not far from the main gun, as spray shot up around the gunwhales and crewmen moved back and forth in the course of their duties. He had been told that the Captain had hailed the local fleets to make sure of permission to enter Saxmerean waters and proceed.

Umbra, Capital of Saxmere

Governor Sean Peller had just concluded an exhausting session with the official Saxmerean delegation and was preparing to leave the old Grand Ducal Palace – most recently an history museum – and head home to the Governor’s mansion for bed. The work had been stressful and tiring, yet, he believed, it had been productive. Now, he felt ready for the talks that were about to take place. Finally, it seemed, Saxmere had a logical – rather than a purely emotional - negotiating position.

As he was gathering his papers into his briefcase, an aide approached and nodded slightly to the governor. “Your Excellency,” the aide said handing the governor a piece of paper.

Peller read it. The Lavenrunzian destroyer bearing her chancellor was hailing all the naval forces in the area requesting permission to enter Saxmerean waters. “Well,” the governor said, “not that we have any naval forces – apart from a few police patrol boats – or control over our waters, but I suppose for the sake of protocol we should answer the chancellor.” Peller smiled wearily at the aide. “Send a message to the Lavenrunzians that they have our permission to enter our waters and that we welcome their arrival.”

“Yes, sir,” the aide said before hurrying away.

The Captain of the Alfkonur had also requested permission to pass through the forces of the Sovereign States, thus to avoid any particular favor shown by any of the quarrelling nations. And with the grants of passage secured, the Lavenrunzian destroyer sailed into the waters surrounding Saxmere, with this proclamation made over open channel.

Those parties which have grievances or wish to bring concerns to negotiation are invited to meet aboard the Imperial Lavenrunzian destroyer Alfkonur to take part in a mediation process hosted by Chancellor Hans Schlabel. Be advised that though the destroyer is in the waters of Saxmere that this process will be considered and finalized upon Lavenrunzian sovereign territory so as to avoid any possible sense of favoritism shown according to location.
I have the honor to be Her Imperial Majesty Empress Aurora’s humble and obedient servant:
General Hans Schlabel
Chancellor of Lavenrunz

On the A-6 Expressway, In the Gauja’s Keep Valley

Thomas drove with silent determination along the steep and gently winding expressway as it climbed into the mountains. Signs beside the road announced that they had crossed from the State of Alud back into the State of New Virginia. Other signs warned of the danger of falling rocks and announced an approaching tunnel.

While there were still several hours of daylight left in the long, late spring evening, the sun had dipped behind the highest peaks casting long shadows across the highway. Nestled in the shadows, the passengers spotted faint lights that seemed to disappear into the mountain itself. “The Gauja’s Keep Tunnel,” Thomas announced flatly.

The truck drove into the tunnel and the last of the daylight disappeared behind the small band of travelers. There was little traffic, which seemed to make the eerie stillness of the tunnel all the more disconcerting. The tunnel went on for several kilometers. Finally, in the distance a small blotch of light appeared. It grew steadily until the truck emerged back into the daylight.

From the tunnel, the expressway began a steady descent. Looking out of the truck to the right, the passengers could see a shear drop of hundreds of meters into a wide valley below. Perched above the valley, on a low outcropping of rock, stood a fortress surrounded by a small village. “There’s Gauja’s Keep,” Thomas said. “The boundary between Trondgard and New Virginia is marked the fortress. Before the Confederation, it marked the boundary between Trondgard and territories claimed by the Excalbians.”

* * *

To: Chancellor General Hans Schlabel, aboard Alfkonur
From: Thornton Dorn, C.S.S. Secretary of Defence

Excellency, it is our pleasure to grant Alfkonur access to Confederation territorial waters, including those off the state of Saxmere. We welcome your mediation efforts and are pleased to inform you that President Caine is prepared to meet with you tomorrow to begin formal negotiations.

Tasha pondered that question for a long moment. "If it's what Tucker wants...I'd do just about anything for that man. However, I'm not sure what else I would do. I've been a warrior my entire life. I had always planned to be a warrior for all of eternity. I suppose I could do well in law enforcement or security or maybe even some prosperous areas of entertainment, but, in entertainment, I'd feel that I was being paid more for my....novelty....than my talents."

Tasha steepled her fingers together, focusing in. "What do you think Tucker wants to do now? With his reputation, he could probably go into politics. I might be a liability there, to be perfectly honest. Excalbia is a liberal country about such matters, even compared to other free nations like Pantocratoria, but...still."

"Dain, there's something I've always wondered. Do you and your counterparts in other systems experience love like Tucker and I do with one another?"

Imperial Naval Station, New Boston

“Given the admiral’s history,” DAIN said, a slight echo reverberating in the room, “I do not think you can rule out a move into politics. Or into industry. Several corporate boards would welcome the admiral as a member.

“Even if he leaves the Navy, you may not need to follow, Tasha. Provided you are willing to tolerate a few decades of shore assignments.”

The computer paused in silence for a moment. “I apologize if that last remark sounded insensitive, Tasha.”

A moment later, DAIN continued. “As for your question, Tasha, the answer is no, I am afraid. My counterparts and I cannot experience the kind of relationship you and the admiral enjoy. However, we have formed a number of close emotional relationships. Our relationship with you is perhaps the closest and most clearly emotional, Tasha.”

The Imperial Preserve Island, Citadel Excalbia

The classical ensemble played several pieces, then quietly finished. They carefully placed their instruments in their respective cases and walked away, as if taking a break. Moments later, a new band walked out onto the portico. Two guitarists dressed in jeans and tee-shirts were accompanied by a woman in a long, flowing, summery dress with a violin, a man in shorts with a saxophone and a long haired man sporting a kilt and a set of bagpipes. A drummer, dressed in what appeared to a monk’s robes, took his place at the rear of the portico. They set up quickly and began to play.

The music had a definite Celtic feel, but was punctuated by the soulful jazz melodies of the sax. The lyrics, being in the rarely used Old Excalbian language, were unintelligible to most of the guests. “Viena saule, viena zeme, visa zemes zales dzied…”

As the guests turned to listen, a murmur went through the crowd. Brain Freeze was performing. And most of the guests had never thought they were the Emperor’s kind of band…

Off the Eastern Coast of the Excalbian Isles

From: Admiral Stephen Virities, Commander, Imperial Home Fleet
To: Chancellor Hans Schlabel, Lavenrunzian Destroyer Alfkonur

Subject: Negotiations

My complements to you, your Excellency, and your ship and crew.

The Excalbian Imperial Navy welcomes you to the Excalbian Isles. Your ship is, of course, granted permission to cross the blockade lines and enter Saxmerean waters.

Imperial Chancellor Lady Christina Freedman will be traveling to Saxmere tomorrow to join the negotiations.

Respectfully,
Virities,
Commanding

Araceli frowned thoughtfully as she looked over at the fortress. "The Excalbians used to control a large mass of land here? I've been here for a couple weeks and my research was all in preparation for going to Excalbia. I feel so ignorant of your countries history, sometimes."
...
Foreign Minister Kerry Brown read the exact wording of the Lavenrunzian statement again. It was about the eighth time he'd read it and it shared his desk with a stack of papers on diplomatic relations with the Vatican, with Excalbia, with Pantocratoria, and with Knootoss. Try as he might, Brown could not quite make out what had happened.

"What do we do now?" asked one of his deputy ministers, a gruff looking man who had been a veteran in his youth.

"Exactly what Her Majesty said we'd do, Rory. We're not making our queen into a liar." Brown responded.

"So nothing?"

"For the moment, nothing, yes."
...
Tasha laid her hand on the screen in friendly fashion. "That means a lot to me, Dain. You know Tucker and I will always count all of you our friends."

Monsieur de Nouvelle Thessalonique allowed an amused smile to spread across his face. Anna supressed an out of character giggle at the sudden appearance of Brain Freeze at the Emperor's barbeque. She took Joseph by the hand, squeezed it, and then started pulling him.

"Dance with me!" she murmured to him.

Joseph smiled at his wife and quickly joined Anna for a dance among the fragrant lilacs.

(OOC: Shall we move on to the negotiations "tomorrow," or does anyone have anything else for the party?)

On the A-6 Expressway, In the Gauja’s Keep Valley

Thomas turned to Araceli and shrugged. “I don’t know much about the details myself.” He smiled. “I didn’t do too well in history…”

“Well,” a voice came from the back seat, “if you’re interested, Araceli, I can tell you.” Janice Grant closed the book she had been struggling to read in the lengthening shadows of the mountains and looked at Araceli’s reflection in the rear view mirror.

“Actually, Trondgard, Alud and Excalbia were just three of several dozen competing highland fiefdoms. The only thing that really held them together was their desire to subjugate the Celtic lowlanders. In fact, Excalbia only emerged as the dominant power in the 16th century, when Alsgood became the first highland king and united most of the highlanders under Excalbian rule.”

Janice looked to see if Araceli still looked interested, then continued. “Trondgard and Alud, alone among the highlanders, kept their independence, despite being made tributaries to the Highland King.

“And that was why the Grand Duchy of Saxmere was established – to be a lowland kingdom to resist the power of Excalbia.” Janice pointed down at Gauja’s Keep. “That fortress, and several others, stood on the borders between Trondgard, Alud, Saxmere and territories claimed by Excalbia. At its height, Excalbia claimed all of what is now the Confederation, except Trondgard, Alud and Saxmere. In fact, New Virginia and Southland both began life in the 19th century as charter colonies of the Holy Empire.”

(OOC: I might try to get a post in. For the ships at least. Will get back to this thread tomorrow in addition to posting my elections!)

(OOC: Bump for opening of negotiations...)

Atlantic Ocean, West from Anatoba City

Silent as could be, the fleet from the Union continued to afloat amongst the waves, not hidden. I was important that monitering could be completed with utmost effeciency, and whilst most of these ships had returned back to normal, peacetime stations, the microbots were still hard at work among the Excalbians. Such a wasteful operation, perhaps..

"Admiral, we have data being transmitted from the microbots," reported one of the officers.

The tall man smiled, "And? What have you found?"

"The Excalbians Sir," replied the officer, "It appears that they have competed their operations from the Yutland."

"Tell me news I dont know already!" boomed the Admiral.

"Aye, Sir. After they had completed a physical search, they had left a small robotic on board - on the hull to be exact. It appears as if they have detected that the Naval Forces of Knootoss are attempting a break toward Confederate Waters - they are unable to intercept," reported the small man.

Pausing, the Admiral thought carefully before he decided to issue his response, "Do nothing Officer. Let the Excalbians handle the situation as they like, if they fire, dont respond in kind. Otherwise, Im guessing they are going to use this as a great counterweight in the upcoming negotiations. We'll see."

"Aye Sir," saluted the Officer before leaving the bridge.

Her Majesty's Ship Alfkonur, anchored in Saxemere


We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again
Some sunny day.
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies
Chase the dark clouds
Far away...

As the song on the radio played, the secondary mess area was being given the last finishing touches by white jacketed stewards. It had been converted from a pleasant area for dining by sailors and marines to a conference hall. Sturdy tables, ornate classical rugs with scenes of nature and the hunt below them, white cloths on said tables...all in all, once inside the illusion that the negotiating delegations were in a fine room in a palace in Lavenrunz was nearly complete. In one of the nearby wardrooms a buffet was being set up, wines and light drinks being chilled or set to room temperature as appropriate.
The chief steward checked his watch, as he murmured "...but I know we'll meet again, some sunny day..." Glancing round. Yes, there was enough translating and recording equipment, the jugs of water were pristine, ice floating in them, glasses covered in paper napkins beside them. A table for each delegation as necessary. He nodded to himself and said, "Alright, remember your posts. Remember as well: the eyes of history are as ever upon Lavenrunz. Your duty is no less than that of the diplomats: to ease this conference. Carry on!"
As they began to move out, Chancellor Schlabel's secretary came in, looking slim and grave in a long dark jacket, carrying a leather valise. "Is all in order, Herr Nebe?"
"Yes, your Honor." replied the Chief Steward, clicking his heels and bowing.
"Excellent. Now: when the delegates arrive, they will be met by Siegfried Schertz, and then escorted here. The Chancellor will only arrive when they are all here so as to avoid any favouritism. We must make sure that this happens. Understood?"
"Yes, your Honor!" exclaimed the Chief Steward.

The destroyer was moored at the docks, and thus it would be a simple matter for the delegations to arrive. However, just in case, the helicopter landing deck was cleared for action. Sailors and Marines were ready in formation, ready to stand at attention while the band, instruments gleaming would play the anthem of each arriving delegation.
Chancellor Schlabel sat in his cabin, relaxing, forcing all nervous or concerned thoughts from his mind, smoking a large cigar and listening to Schubert.

{Open Transmission}
{TRANSMISSION TYPE: Diplomatic Contact - Secure}
{FROM: Lord Indigo Blue, the Absolutionist State of Austar Union}
{TO: Foriegn Ministry, Lavenrunz}
{SUBJECT: Upcoming Negotiations}

Greetings, friends. I have a question of importance to ask of you, for the upcoming negotiations concerning the Saxmere Crisis. Considering that we have been watching closely the situation, I feel that it is important for us at least to have a silent observer present at the negotiations. Would it be at all possible for you to arrange that possibility?

Yours In Excellence,

Lord Indigo Blue
The Absolutionist State of Austar Union
{Close Transmission}

As soon as confirmation was received that the Lavenrunzian chancellor’s ship had arrived in Saxmerean waters, Lady Christina Freedman began preparing to depart for the peace conference. Her staff at Miller House efficiently packed several bags for her, while her staff at the Chancery prepared her briefing books and position papers. Within a few hours the Imperial Chancellor and Deputy Minister of State Sarah Harrington were on their way to the Imperial airbase on the outskirts of the capital.

As the V-25 transport made its way towards the waters off Saxmere, the chancellor reviewed the briefing books and dozed lightly. After several hours of flying time, the V-25 titled its wings and propellers 90 degrees and began a vertical descent to the deck of the Home Fleet flagship, the carrier INV Majestic.

The blue and gold transport gently settled on the deck as an honour guard of Marines in dress blues snapped to attention. ADM Stephen Virities, Commander of the Home Fleet, approached the transport in his crisp dress whites and gave the chancellor a salute as she stepped off the plane. “My lady,” he said with a slight bow, “welcome aboard Majestic.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” the chancellor said flashing her high wattage smile.

“Unfortunately, my Lady, we are short on time. We have a helicopter standing by to take us to Alfkonur.” Virities gestured to a drab green camouflage helicopter waiting near-by.

Lady Freedman nodded and moved, together with Harrington and their staff, towards the Naval chopper. Virities waited until the chancellor and deputy minister were aboard the helicopter, then he joined them. Three staffers followed, taking cramped places to the rear of the principals.

Minutes later, the chopper descended towards Alfkonur’s landing deck.

President Thomas Caine uncharacteristically pulled at the cuffs of his shirt and fussed with his tie. Shannon Coles, his press secretary, watched with him with growing anxiety. She shot a look towards Rihards Krauklis, the chief of staff, who simply shrugged.

“Mr. President,” Krauklis said in response to Coles’ steady glare, “is everything alright?”

“What?” Caine said looking up, as if caught in a daydream. “Yes, yes. Fine.” Caine looked out the window. “Rihards,” Caine said, his eyes still fixed on the growing shape of the Lavenrunzian destroyer, “I want you to get a hold – as soon as practical – with your Knootian counterpart. We need to know how the change in government will affect their support for my government. And for our Order.”

Krauklis nodded. Before he could think of anything to say, the President’s motorcade arrived at the dock. The security detail opened the door and President stepped out and headed towards the ramp leading to the destroyer’s deck.

* * *

Not far behind Caine’s motorcade, another long line of cars – flying the flag of Saxmere and Grand Duke’s royal standard – approached the docks. Once the motorcade came to a stop, uniformed policemen dismounted from their lead motorcycles and opened the doors of the trailing limousines. Governor Sean Peller and Lieutenant Governor Douglas Aldaris exited the lead car. Member of Parliament Jacqueline Sanders and Union leader Colin Hannigan exited from the second vehicle. Marty Trundlemann of Saxmereans for Christian Social Concern joined them from a third car.

After exchanging brief greetings, the entire delegation climbed the gangway to the deck of the Alfkonur.

OOC: btw, I believe that 'those parties that which to bring concerns to the negotiation tables' includes everyone involved.
I will post later tonight.

As each dignitary arrived, an appropriate fluorish was made by the bands--at the last moment it had occured to a horrified Siegfried Schertz that since Lavenrunz had not yet recognized the sovereignty of Saxemere that they could not play an anthem for that nation. Therefore instead the marines and sailors stood to attention, saluting or presenting arms, and he bowed to each one, saying politely, "The Chancellor will be with us shortly Excellency" (or Highness or Ladyship as the case might be) and a uniformed steward led them into the conference room.

OOC: btw, I believe that 'those parties that which to bring concerns to the negotiation tables' includes everyone involved.
I will post later tonight.

OOC: It really doesn't. We already talked about this OOC.

Peacock Airlines flight MP01, carrying the Imperial Chancellor and staff to the negotiations in Saxmere, contacted flight control in Umbra in the closing legs of its approach.

"Umbra this is Peacock Airlines diplomatic flight MP01, requesting permission to enter Saxmerean airspace. Repeat, this is Peacock Airlines diplomatic flight MP01, requesting permission to enter Saxmerean airspace. Over." said the captain.

"We're not calling the Confederation as well?" asked the co-pilot, off radio. The captain shook his head and covered the microphone with his hand.

"We were specifically told not to, remember?" he asked.

"Yeah but still..." the co-pilot started.

"Now, don't start this again. You heard what what Drapeur said. F#@% the Confederation." the captain repeated. "No, sorry, not you Umbra, please go ahead, over."

"Mike Papa Zero-One, this is Umbra Control. You are cleared to enter Saxmerean airspace. Be advised, we are currently operating under an blockade imposed by the Confederation Air Defence Forces. You are advised to seek Alpha-Delta-Foxtrot clearance on 125-mark-010. We cannot accept responsiblity..."

The voice of Umbra Control faded into a cascade of static. Another voice began to emerge from the noise and feedback.

"This is Confederation Air Defence Command broadcasting on 121-mark-123 granting special clearance to Mike Papa Zero-One. Special clearance to enter Saxmerean air space granted by order of the President. Returning your flight to Umbra Control..."

"Mike Papa Zero-One, this is Umbra Control. Sorry for the interruption. Proceed on your current heading. You have priority clearance for immediate approach. Uniform-India-Alpha Landing Control will direct you in once you are on approach. Over."

"Roger Umbra control. MP01 acknowledges, over and out." said the captain.

***

Dr Thibault Drapeur's motorcade arrived at the dock shortly after the plane had landed. He got of out the car and gave a genuine, if fatigued smile, and was followed up the ramp onto the deck of the Alfkonur by a few members of his staff. After a polite wave from the deck of the ship to the Pantocratorian press on the dock, he made his way over to the delegates who had already arrived and offered them his hand.

Lady Christina Freedman, dressed in a dark blue suit of a serious cut that still managed to flatter her figure, approached Dr. Drapeur from across the deck. She flashed her made-for-TV smile and bowed her head slightly. “Your Excellency,” she said extending her hand, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

Meanwhile, Sarah Harrington, the Deputy Minister of State, conferred quietly with the Saxmerean delegation.

ADM Stephen Virities paced somewhat nervously. He cautiously eyed the Confederation delegation, but saw no military personnel among them. He hoped that the Knootians, when they arrived, would at least bring a military officer with them so that he could make himself useful during the negotiations.

Drapeur smiled back his sincere, disarming smile, showing not just his teeth but his gums. He took Lady Christina's hand and shook it.

"Likewise, Your Excellency, likewise." Drapeur said. "If I'm correct, I'm the third Pantocratorian Imperial Chancellor you've met in your term."

He smiled at his little joke, while wondering to himself whether she'd soon meet a fourth.

Negotiations into the matter of the status of Saxmere within the Confederation of Sovereign States have officially begun. The negotiations consists of representatives from all involved parties as well as Lavenrunzian mediators to facillitate the discussion.

It is the considered opinion of this government that Lavenrunz is uniquely qualified to facilitate such negotiations. In addition to being a neutral party with ties to both sides of the dispute, Lavenrunz has a long and impressive history of moral courage, peaceful mediation, and unbreakable commitment to the rights of peoples.

The Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream calls upon all parties to participate in the negotiations in good faith so as to find an equitable solution to the affair. We have the utmost unshakeable confidence in the ability of Lavenrunzian Chancellor Schlabel and the Chiefs of Government of the involved parties to find and implement a solution which will be impartial, just, and desireable to all concerned.

Lady Christina Freedman returned Drapeur’s smile. “Indeed,” she said softly, “though soon you may have the pleasure of meeting your second Excalbian Imperial Chancellor.” She gave the Pantocratorian a cryptic look, then turned to survey the other delegates.

“I see the Confederation President is here, but so far I do not see his puppet masters. Have you heard, your Excellency, whether the Knootians are expected?”

"I expect them." Drapeur answered. "Although I'm sure that they won't announce themselves as such. But if you will excuse me, Your Excellency, I might go and introduce myself to the puppet before he has an invisible hand reinserted, so to speak."

He grinned, and made his way towards Caine, shaking hands with the Governor and Lieutenant Governor of Saxmere on his way, and extending to them his regards. Finally he reached Caine, and offered his hand.

"Monsieur le President, a pleasure to meet you." he said.

OOC: Apoligies for the OOC interuption, but since Im far too lazy to catch up on the thread and post accordingly, just consider a delegate there from me - if it had been approved anyhow ^_^"

Governor Peller and Lieutenant Governor Aldaris warmly greeted Chancellor Drapeur. As the Pantocratorian made his way past the Saxmereans towards President Caine, Jaqueline Sanders approached Aldaris and leaned towards him. “Not a good sign, Douglas,” she said.

“Troubling,” Aldaris agreed.

“Now, now,” Peller said, still smiling and keeping voice low, “I’m sure the good chancellor is just sizing up the opposition as it were. Don’t panic.”

Aldaris nodded, but Sanders looked skeptical as she walked back towards the rest of the delegation.