NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time. And now, to kick off 2006 it’s time to do so. Anyone is invited to post but I would prefer that priority be given to (a) Klatchian states, (b) nations that are currently in or were former members of the Order of the Seraphim and (c) nations that Vrak has had quite a bit of contact with. If you aren’t sure about your status, please contact me. If I feel that you have no place in the thread or if you are not contributing to it (such as spamming), I will politely ask you to remove your post. Please use the subscribe feature if you are interested but don’t want to post in the thread. I realize that the feature may not always work, but try your best.

I am also insanely curious as to how this will play out Icly. This is not scripted at all in case anyone is wondering.

IC:

-Do we tell them?
-Of course. We have to. Certainly we have a constitutional duty to do so.
-Well, life support kept him in his state for the last six months. They say frailty is still the big killer.
-It is. I will still have a complete autopsy done.
-Still don’t trust me Intelligence Director?
-No. I do not High Priest. You know where I stand.
-I do indeed. One should always be mindful of where one stands.
-Don’t threaten me, priest.
-I am not threatening you but merely echoing a universal truth. It is by Bok’s will that we all meet our destiny.
-I prefer to carve out my own destiny. I was under the impression that Bok favoured those who showed some initiative instead of blind followers.

Silence.

-Don’t lecture me on the Writings of Bok or the Great Blood Scolls.
-I wouldn’t presume to do so.

A third voice cut in.

-Fellow walruses. This is pointless. We have a duty to uphold to our liege. I will make the announcement myself.
-Of course. You are right, High General. And I shall be at your side. What about you, Intelligence Director?
-I prefer my own place. And my own time.
-Even now?
-Our liege understood the duty of each of us and what we did. I’m sure he would understand my position.
-Yes, he would. Very well. Come with me, High Priest.

====

All over the Glorious Kingdom, the radio, television, and Internet outlets suddenly broadcast a simple message:

“Last night, our beloved King died in his sleep. The official funeral will begin in five days at the Royal Stadium. Remember your liege. Bend the knee.”

Across the entire Kingdom, every walrus bowed their head and every human dipped to one knee and bowed their head. Grief overwhelmed the nation.

====

A lone King’s Own, dressed in Royal dress delivered a simple oral message to either the head of state or the next highest level official of which Vrak had diplomatic relations with.

“Last night, our beloved King died in his sleep. The official funeral will begin in five days at the Royal Stadium. You are invited to pay your respects at our capital. Please contact the Vrak Diplomatic Corps for your possible arrival and for further inquiries and arrangements. Thank you.”

Tanah Antara House, Port Olympus

"AUUGH!" Violeta Bi Bere fell off her chair in shock as the radio repeated the news. At her age it was not a good thing to fall off a chair. She was afraid that cracking sound might mean another broken hip. Damn! And the President dying: wasn't the Klatch unstable enough already? This could spell trouble, no doubt about it.

From a prone position -- and her knee looked bent, too -- Violeta pressed the button that would summon the para-medics that were part of her permanent staff here at the Burungi government offices in the Klatchian capital. As she waited, she dictated a message of commiserations.

To: Vrakian diplomatic corps
From: Violeta Bi Bere, minister for Klatchian affairs, Six Nations of Tanah Burung

Dear hearts,

Please allow me to convey my great sadness to hear of the death of the King. His wise stewardship of Vrak was an example to all the peoples of the world. I have recommended that my government declare a day of mourning in Tanah Burung, so that all may pay tribute to a statesman of wisdom and restraint.

With your permission, i will head my government's delegation to the King's funeral. It has long been my desire to see with my own eyes the Royal Stadium: i only wish the conditions were happier ones.

She clicked the stop button, and hesitated. Should that have been "stateswalrus"? Ah well, too late now.

The Lord Tengil Johan Kaderjust stood behind his desk in silence as the Vrakian emissary delivered his message.

"The people of Karmanyaka mourns with you." he burbled to the back of the retreating Vrakian just as the door was about to close.

He sat in silence for a minute or two before his assistant gently tapped the door.

"Yes, do come in, Donaldine." he answered

"My Lord, if I may enquire... What was that about? You look like the sky has come down on you, my Lord"

"He's dead at last. The old walrus is dead." he said in a faraway voice. Kader turned to his assistant and smiled vryly. "And the funny thing is, I thought I would be happier about it. This doesn't really add to regional stability, of course."

"Oh dear." Ms. Raskowska mumbled. "That means we don't have a president any more either."

"Correct... Donaldine make arrangements for me to attend the King's funeral in Vrak in five days. I'll travel in one of the new Marathons we ordered from Avery Frost. And assemble the Knights."

"Yes, my Lord."

The secretary closed the door gently and left the ruler alone.

--

Things were messy for the Lord Tengil at the moment. The country was in ruins after the civil war and now that big seal chose this moment to die... Typically Vrakian timing! Now they would have to elect a new president. A stiff Alconian or a zealous Tsarist Dyellian were to be preferred before another deranged walrus. Maybe Tanah Burung could produce a decent president? Where would all this end?


True, in his heydays the King had been a skilful politician. And despite his whimsical behaviour of late, the Vrakian presidency had provided a sort of stability to Klatchian politics - everyone were really cautious, because you never knew how the president would react to the things you did...

--

A note went out to Vrak Diplomatic Corps with plans and arrangements for the funeral visit. Also in the message was a sincere statement on the collective grief of the Karmanyakan people upon hearing of the death of a great Vrakian and Klatchian walrus.

Special Communiqué
To: The High General of Vrak, or such relevant official of the Same
CC: The Parliament of the Federated Klatchian Coast, the Outer Consul of the same, and such relevant officials of the same

Dear sir,

On behalf of all subjects of His Imperial Majesty, we express our most heartfelt condolences for your loss. His Majesty's leadership of the Glorious Kingdom was an example of fine leadership and diplomacy for all of Klatch and, indeed, the world.

We are most sorry for not only Vrak, but for the entire Federated Klatchian Coast, to have lost such a fine statesman; we are certain that he will be missed, and pray that his successor is as fine a leader as His Majesty.

Your nation shall be in our thoughts and prayers this night.

[signed]
First Minister Elgiva deMa'iska, Duchess of Maciska,

[signed]
His Imperial Royal Majesty Constantinus VII deMakra, King-Emperor of Macisikan

--------------------------------
Although there was nothing to suggest it, there had been an argument among the Ministry of External Affairs translation staff. Macisikani had a few words with no real equivalent in English. In this case the argument had revolved around "statesman", and whether it should be "stateswalrus". There had also been an argument about "successor"; the word deMa'iska had used was a Gaelic one meaning "heir-designate", but it was unsure as to what the equivalent would be. In any case, the translators would have found it highly unnerving to find out that they had had the same line of thought as Violeta.

Behind a very soundproof door a short discussion took place while the Vrakian messenger was being served tea outside by servants after handing over the message.

-"But... but.. its a Walrus?!"The department secretary stared at the orders he had received in wild disbelief. "They cant be serious!"

-"The orders from the ministry of foreign relations are quite clear. Vrak is one of the nations that the benevolent one has identified as a future potential ally and rumours have it that he even shut up one of the archbishops when he cried out about it. His line is apparently quite clear. Even if the late king doesn't go to heaven we are still to honour a fellow leader. So shut up and write that damn letter! The minister herself has been ordered to go to the funeral."

A few minutes later a grey bureaucrat stepped out in the hall and gave the Veganian answer to the messenger.


With our deepest sympathy we will come to honour one of the great leaders of our Universe. Our delegation will be lead by Our Foreign minister Emilia M'Laki who will bring our deepest personal Condolences.

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

~The Benevolent Jaar

General Jack Valkare, nicknamed Lionheart for his expertise and courage despite his young age, rubbed the scruff on his cheeks with one hand as he typed in the password to the Emperor’s office with the other. Walking in, Emperor Bivens looked up from his desk, took off his glasses, and smiled at his good friend and the leader of his military. Valkare didn’t smile back.

“The king of Vrak has died,” the General reported. Bivens raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you telling me this and not Julian?” the Emperor asked. Dr. Julian Rane was the Director of Intelligence and usually handled such information.

“Julian didn’t find it important,” Valkare replied. “The king wasn’t murdered…he simply died in his sleep.”

“If there’s no crime or no coup,” Emperor Bivens began. “It’s none of my concern.”

“But your highness,” Valkare pleaded, but Bivens would hear none of it. Still furious with the Order of the Seraphim, which the Steel Empire was not currently a part of, for the events taking place during the Civil War, the death of one of the Order’s member’s leaders mattered little to him. Nevertheless, Steel Butterfly and the rest of Orion’s remaining ties to the Order were unquestionable, as much as the Emperor would like to deny them. “I would like to request a period of short leave, then, in order to pay my regards.”

“You take off time as you wish,” Bivens said, scowling. “But you are going there as a friend, not as some sort of condolence ambassador.”

Valkare nodded, exchanged salutes, and left the office. Making his way back to his own office in the building, he accessed his computer, and sent a response back to the Kingdom.

.:Visual Transmission To Vrak:.
Channel Open

“I am General Jack Valkare of the Imperial Military, based off of the planet of Bivens of the Steel Empire in the Orion Sector. I would like to send my condolences to the people of Vrak for the death of their king, as well as my reservations for the funeral in five day’s time.” Valkare paused, carefully considering his next few words. “I look forward to representing the Empire, for the Emperor himself could not make the event. All of Orion grieves today.”

Channel Terminated

http://67.18.37.15/237/117/upload/p694668.png http://67.18.37.14/129/44/upload/p357.jpg
General Jack Valkare - Emperor Dave Bivens

"When!?" Napoleon IV jumped from his chair.

"Last night, Your Highness." The Vice Minister for Foreign Affairs said, almost under his breath.

Napoleon sat back in his chair and pressed the Intercom button. "Bourienne, send out the order to prepare the Luggage. I am going to Vrak."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Later that day, Chambers of the Minister of Foreign Affairs.)

The Emperor of Greater Prussia walked through the office doors. Several of those in the waiting room attempted to stand and pay respect, but the Emperor waved them down. He was not here to hobnob.

He walked past the lines of dignitaries waiting to see the Foreign Minister and right into his office.

As the door opened, the Minister, with the phone to his ear, looked up at Napoleon. His eyes grew a bit wider and he quickly muttered. "The Emperor is in my office, I must go." Prince Henri de Ritorneau had heard of the debacle with the Minister of Finance, Charles Lebrun. He was not very eager to have his every posession seized from him and turned over to charity.

"Your Highness, what is it that I may do for you?"

"Vrak."

"The death of the King you mean?"

"Yes, I'm going to the funeral and so are you." Napoleon simply stood in the doorway, not bothering to walk in and take a seat.

"Yes sire."

The Emperor pivoted his foot as if he were about to walk away, but then turned back around. "Find out as much information as you can about the Klatch, and have it for me to read on the plane. I know the basics, but the basics aren't enough anymore. With the King's death...this throws everything into turmoil."

"Sire, if no man of his caliber can be found to replace him...and a man from Vrak...it is then that the turmoil will begin."

"Keep in mind, the Klatch is in someways not very dissimilar to the Empire. We chose the crown, they chose the Republic. Though Walri may not run though our halls, we have much to compare notes about." Napoleon then finally walked off down the hall.

-No trace of toxins. No unusual bruising or cuts. He was taking medication but that was being administered by the Royal Staff. No broken bones. Nothing unusual. Just the normal signs of aging. The blood tests were normal. His liver did show signs of excessive drinking since it is quite fatty.
-Is that all, Chief pathologist?
-Well, sir. My preliminary full report will be on your desk within the hour. I will look more closely at the individual organs but, as I have indicated, the King’s liver does show the usual signs of heavy drinking.
-Very well. Within the hour. And tell no one else your findings.
-Of course, Intelligence Director.

The dignified walrus waddled out of the offices of the Intelligence Director, who leaned back and contemplated the latest findings. He will have to interview the Royal Staff and find out if those pesky monks of Bok had managed to infiltrate that close to the King. He was always opposed to the growing influence of those religious nuts but privately was impressed with how much zeal that they could inspire the people. He did remember the zeal they inspired during the Dozle war and later in Clairmont and Neo Tyr. It’s just that he wanted to channel it rather than the high priest.

A slurp of whiskey and then he read over the condolences pouring in from fellow Klatchian states and close allies and friends. So far, Tanah Burung and Karmanyaka had responded from the Klatch but then again, this was the Klatch. He arched his eyebrow at the list of names: Reichskamphen, Vegana, Macisikan, Steel Butterfly. Hmmm? He wasn’t quite expecting the last one considering the mess that they went through with their civil war and the Order’s response. He then looked at the list again. The leader of the Greater Prussian Empire and a most prominent nation within the Reich. This should prove to be an interesting funeral.

He looked out the window onto the Royal Stadium itself. It was a truly massive structure, holding upwards of nearly half a million persons; walruses and humans combined. His eyes roved about the structure, noting the huge banners being hoisted up along with the braziers being lit. He watched with dismay as he saw some of the monks standing on the edge of the uppermost portions of the structure and chanting the death chants. He secretly hoped that they would fall off and splatter their brains. One could hope.

He waddled back to his desk and then began to write…


To: Violeta Bi Bere, minister for Klatchian affairs, Six Nations of Tanah Burung
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. Although more details will be explained upon your arrival, the Royal Stadium will be the site of the funeral service for the people with the final resting place far away. As well, the choosing of a new King will also take place in the stadium following the traditional manner.

The King’s own Palace will be your accommodations with the details left up to the Royal Chamberlain. We are looking forward to receiving your honoured selves.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]



To: Lord Tengil Johan Kaderjust, ruler of Karmanyaka
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter. We are looking forward to receiving your honoured selves.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]



To:
First Minister Elgiva deMa'iska, Duchess of Maciska,
His Imperial Royal Majesty Constantinus VII deMakra, King-Emperor of Macisikan
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. Although our nations have differed over the past, we do respect your nation and its wise statesmanship. We look forward to future contact.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]


The Intelligence Director pause at the last remark. He opened up the file and again reviewed the letter from Baroness Sophronsa Aryet. This certainly would be a good time for them to see the operations of the Federation first hand, should they decide to send someone, he mused.


To: General Jack Valkare
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter. We are looking forward to receiving your honoured selves.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]


He looked over the message again. Not as personal as he wanted but then he thought it would be easier to discuss some matters briefly and privately once in Vrak.


To: The Benevolent Jaar
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter. We are looking forward to receiving Foreign minister Emilia M'Laki

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]



To: Napoleon IV, Emperor of Greater Prussia
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter. We are looking forward to receiving your honoured selves.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]


After the final two letters, the Intelligence Director brought up a file on both nations and told archives to conduct a thorough search. He wanted to know as much as he could about them.

====

Meanwhile, the rest of the nation was in mourning. All but the most essential activities had ceased and people either stayed at home, went to the bars (which were kept open) or flocked to the temples of Bok. There, the monks began the ritualistic wailing and burning of incense and leading the faithful in the prayers of the dead.

Vrak Prime International Airport was in high gear, even though commuter traffic was on pause, aside from those returning to the Kingdom. The diplomatic runways were given a quick maintenance review and platoons of King’s Own in Royal Dress began to arrive to provide an honour escort to Klatchian and foreign dignitaries.

I've actually only met one walrus in my life, and he was a simple salesman - saleswalr... How do I approach a stateswalrus? Nonsense! I'm a head of state and they're all diplomats. I treat them like ordinary humans of course-


"My Lord?"

The assistant, Ms. Raskowska woke the Lord Tengil from his thoughts.

"The motorcade is ready to take you to the Airport My Lord."

"Thank you Donaldine, I'll be right down. Is Ellen ready?"

"Yes, your wife is downstairs with the cat."

"She brings the cat to Vrak?! Don't they eat cats or something over there?"

"I couldn't say My Lord."

--

The motorcade pulled up on the runway as the huge Marathon transport started its engines. Aboard the aircraft were the Lord Tengil Johan Kader, his wife Ellen and their cat Holger, the Lord Tengil's personal staff, a journalist from KaTo News, a dozen Tengil Guard Hussars in dress uniform and a small army of clerks, diplomats and experts of different kinds.

The custom built Marathon B/S Transport took off and shot across the sky.

The Lord Tengil Looked out the large window at the shrinking picture of the capital city.

"Well then, dear. We're on our way to Vrak!"

"I'm quite looking forward to it, Johan." Ellen smiled.

"This is Klatchian politics and a funeral, not a vacation you know."

"Does it matter? I've been locked up in that damp old palace for too long! I think a change of air will be wonderful." she winked at her wincing husband.

"I keep thinking about when Richard was killed... How everyone mourned like their own father had died. I even think I saw Grune wiping a tear from his eye."

The previous Lord Tengil Richard Loke had been killed a few years ago by members of a terrorist organization, an event that had left the nation in a state of shock which eventually led to the resent civil war.

Kader sighed.

"I really feel for the Vrakians. I hope we can all make this a worthy occasion and not a scene of pointless bickering and dirty feuds."

--
A message was relayed to the Royal Chamberlain that the Karmanyakan head of state was expecting to arrive in Vrak Prime in four hours. All the little details about the visit, security plans and accomodation needs were forwarded.

This was actually the first Karmanyakan state visit ever. Never before had a Lord Tengil travelled to a foreign country as a representative of the Dominion of Karmanyaka. This was a true milestone.

OOC: It was brought to my attention that there might be some confusion about the requirements. Treat A, B, and C as "either/or". All anyone has to do is to meet one of them and not all three. In other words, if you are a Klatchian state then you've already met the criteria. As well, I did telegram some nations that I thought might be interested. That is in no way inclusive and if you did get a telegram I won't feel bad if you don't post. Again, feel free to telegram me if you aren't sure.

24 Imperial Guardsman marched in column of fours down the tarmac at Reichsburg International Airport. Eagle 1, the Emperor's own personal jetliner sat before them as they proceeded forward. They were in full dress uniform, but armed with modern weapons. The Guard had been put on high alert. It had been a very long time since the Emperor had travelled anywhere out of the Empire like this. Many people, especially those in Haven, would love to have his head on a pike, so he had to be extra careful, even if it meant augmenting the likely high Vrakian security with his own Imperial Guard.

A 1943 Mercedes Black Limousine pulled up near to the plane. The Chauffeur got out of the car, and opened the passenger door. The Emperor and Prince Henri de Ritorneau, the Foreign Minister of the Empire, exited the car and began to walk purposefully towards the aircraft. The Imperial Guard saluted their Emperor as he climed the steps to board the plane. He returned the salute which was returned by the men with a shout of "God Save the Emperor!"

The Plane took off without a hitch and all the necessary details were forwarded to the Vrakians. He specifically requested a larger detachment of the King's Own to Guard him as he exited the plane as he didn't want to upstage the unit on parade by trotting out a bunch of Imperial Guardsmen.

Napoleon took a sip of wine as the plane climed higher into the sky, and following the Emperor's example, Prince Ritorneau did the same. "What do you attend to achieve during this visit?" Prince Ritorneau finally asked his Emperor.

"Henri, I attend to mourn a great man, and pay my respects to him and his Country." Napoleon said matter of factly. "I doubt anything other than that will come of this trip, but if there is anything, we need to extend our hand to them...and the rest of the Klatch...but especially Vrak. Be as supportive as you can. Stability rests in large part upon a reasonable Vrakian taking up the fallen King's mantel...and I will stop at nothing to see that this happens." Napoleon sat down his glass, deciding finally he didn't like the selection. "And we must let them know that is where we stand as well. Not all of the Klatch persay...but the Vrakians definately."

Lord Harrington, acting in his capacity as representative of the New Shiron government until contact was restored after the Diaspora, sends a telegram of sympathy and indicates that the New Shiron Diplomatic and Federation government staff send their deepest sympathies. An additional response can be expected from New Shiron once the news reaches it.

The news of the King's death was relayed to Sir Alec Connover, Minister of Foreign Affairs, who replied promptly.

To:Vrak Diplomatic Corps
From: Sir Alec Connover, Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ilek-Vaad

I wish to offer my deepest condoloences at the loss of your great King. It is truly a mournful occasion and if your nation requires any assistance in this time of sorrow and grief, please let me know and we in the Free Republic will do all that we can.

I have also asked that Nachxa Itihetacl, Special Envoy to the Republican Council , who is currently in Port Olympus to attend the Funeral of your King and to offer the condolences of the Free Republic in person.

Sincerely,
Sir Alec Connover.

Things were messy for the Lord Tengil at the moment. The country was in ruins after the civil war and now that big seal chose this moment to die... Typically Vrakian timing! Now they would have to elect a new president. A stiff Alconian or a zealous Tsarist Dyellian were to be preferred before another deranged walrus. Maybe Tanah Burung could produce a decent president? Where would all this end?

Mau Slurp's House of Gambling released the following odds today:

Stiff Alconian 2-1
Deranged Vrakian walrus 5-2
Zealous Tsarist Dyellian 3-1
Relatively relaxed Alconian who still enjoys scheming 5-1
Faceless walrus who declined to give his name 20-1
Homosexual monkey 25-1
Karmanyakan diplomat 50-1
Incompetent President from Tanah Burung 50-1
Sentient man-eating vegetable 75-1
Decent President from Tanah Burung 100-1
Random Shironese left behind accidentally in exodus 100-1
Collective act of insanity leading to drafting the Nachxa as Pres 1,000-1
Peaceful Dyellian with no aggressive plans at all 10,000-1

Princess Gabrielle O'Connor, having recently arrived on planet, will represent the government and people of New Shiron at the funeral.

Press Release
The People of New Shiron owe the late King a debt of gratitude for his help in repelling the New Cynthian invasion a number of years ago. It will be an honor for Princess Gabrielle to attend.

Diplomatic note to the government of Vrak
Princess Gabrielle is the former head of state of New Shiron, but not the current one. She represents her brother, King Gavin and the New Shiron government on all matters involving New Shiron on this world.

To: Sir Alec Connover, Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ilek-Vaad
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter. We are looking forward to receiving Special Envoy Nachxa Itihetacl.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]



To: Lord Harrington
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We sincerely thank you and your nation for sharing in our grief. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter. We are looking forward to receiving Princess Gabrielle O'Connor.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]


The Intelligence Director looked over the last two messages. Odd. Never thought that there would be a form letter for the King’s funeral. Ah well, he thought, the details and specifics would be in the arrivals. He looked over again at the request from the Reichskamphen Emperor. Probably not a bad idea to make sure certain nations received more protection. After all, he was planning that there was always a chance that having such a high profile event could attract some undesirable attention. He was counting on Vrak’s generally (at least he thought) cordial relations with most to lessen that threat. Then again, the guardian patrols have been increased and overhead long range patrols have been stepped up as well.

Suffice to say, the various diplomatic craft would be identified and flown in with heavy air escort along a tight path to the International airport itself. Waiting for each delegation would be a sufficient number of armoured limousines along with more heavily armoured APC should that be requested. Still, each dignitary would have to endure a Vrakian band playing that nation’s national anthem and walk the red carpet and a cursory inspection of a unit of the King’s Own. A bit of pomp but nothing extravagant. Then they would be whisked away to the ultra luxurious palace, driving past the wreckage of broken war machines mounted on massive concrete pedestals. At the Royal Palace itself, each delegation would be waited upon by a complete staff – a portion of the King’s household. Undoubtedly, access would be heavily monitored and security extremely tight. The palace itself had its own Palace Guard augmented by the King’s Own. Not to mention the special bodyguard unit of the VIS which usually consisted of huge stoic Inuits.

Most likely, those outside the Klatch or even those that haven’t been to the Kingdom might be a bit struck with the architecture. Most of the buildings were domes – some quite massive - and although there were large skyscrapers, they were still the exception. Few signs of the devastating war with Dozle could now be noticed, and certainly these dignitaries would be, well, confined to a certain portion of the city.

====

In another part of the capital, the death chants continued to be heard from the main temple of Bok. There were unconfirmed reports of screaming but authorities were quick to dismiss such writings as “scaremongering and disrespectful in our time of mourning”.

====

Inside the Royal Palace itself, servants scurried about madly preparing the rooms while ill-tempered cooks shouted insults to their underlings in preparing the variety of dishes for their soon to be arriving guests.

The Royal Harem was, for now, wearing black with covered veils and paraded about the palace mumbling incoherently, wailing, or sobbing uncontrollably. Most everyone else ignored them or patiently escorted them somewhere safe.

Eagle 1, escorted up to this point by a massive detachment of the Imperial Airforce, now approached Klatchian airspace and sent out a transmission to the Air Traffic Controllers.

"This is Eagle 1, requesting Klatchian military escort or permission for our military escorts to continue through Klatchian airspace."

The Plane was forced to fly over Haven in order to cut the travel time down, so security was extra tight. Napoleon was sure that there were plenty of people there who still ate raw meat...or atleast possessed the sensibilities of those who did and would likely try to shoot his plane out of the sky.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I wonder what a chair for a walrus would look like." Napoleon pondered aloud, the clouds floating past his window. "One would think that everything we are used to would be somewhat out of its shape to conform to the Walri. I'm sure they will put some human furniture in our quarters."

"Indeed, I'm sure of that." Prince de Ritorneau said, half paying attention. "I hadn't the time to pull the details on the Vrakian Army...but I'm quite curious as to how a walrus can effectively fight a well trained human soldier...no matter how evolved the Walrus is."

"Perhaps the Majority of the Army are humans?" Napoleon muttered. "We will see shortly I suppose."

What to wear on a walrus funeral?! Emilia lifted up the long white dress that she loved to wear in fron of her. The contrast between her ebony skin and the ivory dress was stunning. She had asked some people on the Information Ministerium to do a cultural study of Vrakian customs. She dressed her slim neck with a pearl necklace. Maybe a bit too much? Its not a wedding after all.

During the five years Emilia M'Laki had been foreign minister she had been abroad a total of four times, every time within The Reich. This was an excellent time to prove herself, to make everyone see her competence in diplomacy. She would have taken any chance to get abroad and the (un)fortunate death of the High King of Vrak had proven to be an occasion that she wouldn't miss for anything in the world. She admired the fall of the fabric in the white dress and decided between three different pair of white shoes. I WILL show them!

She wasn't sure why the benevolent onehad sent her on this mission. Normally there were diplomats or embassadors for things like this, but she sure as hell wouldn't let him down. She had read the message with disbelief and then read it again and checked the seal. It definitely was an order from the highest command. She giggled for herself like a small girl as she thought of her striding through a huge hall in the royal palace and meeting all those interesting Non-Reich people. Her thoughts were interrupted by a beep in her messenger. She picked it up and read it. It was from the Information Ministerium.

-"Damn! She said as she walked over to her wardrobe and started to look after a black dress.

The Nachxa was in Port Olympus, and did not have a long trip at all to Vrak Prime. He traveled with his grand daughter and a few of his staff, the rest of his staff was still recovering from their reception in Port Olympus.

He looked out of the window of the Marathon Transport, looking over Vrak as the jet flew. He sighed and Tacha, his grand daughter turned to him.

"The King is dead, so now the prerequisite civil war?" she asked.

The Nachxa shrugged "That has yet to be determined, but when the holder of absolute power dies, there is rarely a smooth transition of power. No doubt someone will think they can gain from the King's death."

Tacha nodded.

Reichskamphen

Eagle one was being tracked quite a ways before it neared Klatchian airspace. Despite the somewhat disorganized nature of the FKC, it did possess a fair number of advanced satellites and had a modicurm of an entire regional network coverage, mostly due to the JDF. JDF command detected the Reichskamphen craft first and then handed it over to Vrakian air control as it drew nearer to Vrak proper.

Six Su-47 fighters rose into the air to meet the arrivals. They swung in a huge arc and then pulled in close to provide an escort. No other unknown craft were detected, considering the route that Napoleon IV took. Still, if something was to occur a full flipper of fighters stood in readiness along with the usual compliment of AA batteries. A friendly transmission welcoming Eagle one was sent from the lead pilot and then a reminder to follow him precisely to the airport.

On the ground, a nervous protocol officer stood in the cold wind and absently smoothed his left lapel. Behind him, the band and honour guard stood like statures, their capes flapping. To his immediate right, a towering Inuit bodyguard stood sporting shades and the tattoo of a bear on his leff hand. To his right, two flag bearers stood with one holding the flag of Reichskamphen and the other the flag of Vrak.


OOC: I forgot to add this but I'm certain everyone here would know; please consult the Wiki articles on the FKC as well as the website for some background stuff. I can answer any other questions as well. As well, if anyone who is not particularily friendly to Vrak but wishes to make a brief secretive post on how this might affect their nation (or if if serves as a catalyist for something later) then you can post.

Coming in at 10,000 feet the four jet escort broke formation as they came near Klaatchian air space and left the civilian airliner on its own devices. Emilia looked out through her window at the new Vrakian escort and waved at the pilot with a smile. The Reich emblema was clearly visible on the tail as it descended towards the designated airport.

Ilek-Vaad

Coming up from Port Olympus, the Nachxa would have seen the huge mountain chain that ran nearly the entire length of the country from north to west. Nearing the capital itself, domes of various shapes and sizes could be discerned as they descended through the atmosphere. The odd military base here, the industrial complex there and large apartment complexes sandwiched in between signified the advanced state of the Kingdom. But a lack of greenery would be noticeable and some gashes in the land itself could be seen. A trained eye would see that it wasn’t the result of some open pit mining operation but, more ominously, the result of some kind of weapon.

The general nature of the country looked rugged, although one could see some terracing and many greenhouses. It seemed that the Vrakians pressed every square centimetre of land into service.

Six fighter jets met with the Vaadians from the initial crossing over into Vrakian airspace and provided a protective envelope for the entourage.

Vegana

Six figher jets met the Veganians (ooc: correct adjective?) near the outskirts of the Walrus Sea. If Emilia inclined her head, she would see the waters to be, well, more of a putrid blue or sickly green. Over the unknown island there appeared to be a heavy military presence but then that would be expected due to the geography of the land and capital.

Lower still, vast shipyards jutting out into the sea could be discerned, along with a steady stream of container traffic. Clearly, Vrak Prime must be a major port as well as the capital of the Kingdom.

The fighter pilot flashed a smile at Emilia then expertly glided out to the perimeter of the formation.

====

Grag Montezuma, CEO of Gargantua Manufacturing took the news of the King’s death in stride. Not to say that he didn’t mourn, for he did since the King was a personal friend of his, but that he believed that there will be time to cry later. First, he had to pay his superior a visit to make Gargantua House ready for the eventual challenge that will come up. All the Great Houses would be giving their candidate last minute preparations that would involve them all to vie for the throne. Years of planning now were about to be tested in the rites that will follow the funeral. And he didn’t want to lose.

He shook his head as he remembered the laws surrounding the challenge itself. No assassinations could take place during the funeral proper but 48 hours after the King was solemly laid to rest in the great tomb in the Far Northern Territories, the bloodletting would begin.

OOC: Wow, you have an organized system of succession...I'm not much better...but wow.

IC: The Jet Carrying the Emperor landed smoothly at the Airport in Vrak Prime. Out of the window, he could see the people gathered for his arrival. "They are surely tired of all this diplomatic greeting." Napoleon commented, looking at the troops out on the blacktop. "I stood in their place once or twice."

The Emperor stood up from his seat when the plane rolled to a stop and the steps were rolled up to the exit door for him to procede down. Picking four of the Immaculately dressed Imperial Guardsmen, he ordered them to procede down the stairs and secure the ramp, a ceremonial act mostly, since there was little threat with the Vrakian military on guard. After that, Prince de Ritorneau descended the steps with two Imperial Guardsmen to either side. He saluted the Vrakian formations and quickly continued on. Dressed in what would be normal civilian clothes in 1780, although they were black, the Foreign Minister came just short of a powdered wig.

Finally, the Emperor steped out of the door of the plane and waved. He realized just then that he hadn't been abroad for nearly 5 years. 'Wish it was something happier.' he thought to himself. Along with a single Imperial Guard, Napoleon's chief body guard since the beginning of his reign, the Emperor began to walk down the steps. He was clad in a specially designed Black Imperial Guard Hussar's uniform. He figured this was the best thing to honour the glory of a fallen Monarch. He saluted the Vrakian troops and motioned with his hand for the Imperial Guards escorting him, all but his personal guard, to fall in line at the foot of the steps while he and Ritorneau proceeded ahead to review the King's own.

The Intelligence Director pause at the last remark. He opened up the file and again reviewed the letter from Baroness Sophronsa Aryet. This certainly would be a good time for them to see the operations of the Federation first hand, should they decide to send someone, he mused.

====

Meanwhile, the rest of the nation was in mourning. All but the most essential activities had ceased and people either stayed at home, went to the bars (which were kept open) or flocked to the temples of Bok. There, the monks began the ritualistic wailing and burning of incense and leading the faithful in the prayers of the dead.

Vrak Prime International Airport was in high gear, even though commuter traffic was on pause, aside from those returning to the Kingdom. The diplomatic runways were given a quick maintenance review and platoons of King’s Own in Royal Dress began to arrive to provide an honour escort to Klatchian and foreign dignitaries.

To: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
From: Ministry of External Affairs, Arn-Maciska
Subject: Attendence

Dear sir or madam,

If it pleases your nation, His Imperial Majesty's Government would send a high official of significant import to attend the rites and pay the last respects of His Imperial Majesty's Government to your late sovereign.

Count Ethelred Aldreset, Acting Minister of External Affairs
Baroness Sophronsa Aryet, Rechtaire for Klatchian Relations

official request
Princess Gabrielle will be arriving aboard a large shuttle tomorrow, escorted by a squadron of orbital fighters. She requests an escort if possible, or clearance for hers, and space for a pair of air cars at whatever accomedations have set aside for her and her staff.

information on air cars
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10166399&postcount=30

Dyelli Beybi was slow to respond... partly because the Dyellians were too busy fighting amongst themselves to really pay much attention, but mostly because the Dyellians were about as adept at diplomacy as an elephant in must.

'The Federation of Timaru and Moskau' sent a long florrid letter, but forgot to put a stamp on it, and the letter was 'returned to sender', where it was mistaken for a letter bomb and detonated in the courtyard of Parliament.

The Cardinal of Saint Guineford's did not make any official response, but took the opporunity to televise a debate as to whether or not the Walrus King was going to hell or not, presided over by several theologians of no particular note.

The only faction who actually managed a card was the new 'Empire of Greater Dyelli Beybi' which sent a card with a sad looking dog (and the stain of a coffee mug on the front) to the Vrakian Foreign Ministry. Inside it was printed with the words

'Congratulations, it's a boy!' *crossed out*
'Many many apologees for the inconwenience of your dead Moonarch, the Empire wishes to express it's sincerest wishes to... conquer your country *crossed out* extend it's sincerest apologies for this unfortunate accident.
Vive L'Empreur!'

Nobody had thought to sign it or run a spell check.

Jade sat there, stun in surprised, news of the kings had reached her desk. It would now mean that there would be a shift of power not only in the country of Vrak itself, but in the entire region as well. Such transitions were not always, and given the timing of this, Tappee could ill afford to be dragged into any problems that might arise.

“What should we do?” asked a voice interrupting Jade’s thoughts.

Jade snapped back to reality, and focused on the task at hand.

“Send our government official statement of condolences, and clear my schedule so that I may attend the ceremony.” Answered Jade “More then ever we need to give a show support.”

The Church of the Lost God, Port Olympus
The Keys still in the city had been assembled not in their normal Parliament chamber across the road, but here in the old church. It smelled of mildew and pee. The pews were uncomfortable. Even more so with the press stuck at the far end in standing room onl.
In general no one knew why the place had not been torn down. Futher why the Keys still in town had been directed to come here immediatly. The door to the vestry opened and the Landgravine stepped out. She was followed by a man dressed in red robes. The Landgravine stepped up to the lecturn as her cold, dispassionate eyes scanned the room.

"My fellow Klatchians," she began in a cool monotone "we have a serious constitutional crisis on our hands. As of this moment, the government has no one, I repeat no one leading it. The constitution states that the Chancellor shall now become president. This of course can not happen as we have no Chancellor. The only surviving member of the elected officals is me." She stopped for a moment and looked at them all quietly, in her mind she was laughing. You bloody idiots are waiting for me to declare myself Empress aren't you...pah...
"As such, it is obvious that I am left with the burden of seeing that this nation is not left leaderless. It is stated that you have the power to elect a President if their is no Chancellor, but we can not waste time with an endless debate upon the matter. So together we shall see that the one Key you have chosen to lead you, Parliament, shall now lead the nation. For whatever reasons you chose the Speaker of Parliament to be your leader. And as I see it, you have also chosen him, as the elected leader of Parliament, to lead this nation when there shall be neither Chancellor nor President any longer. " She let the bomb hit the floor, but the eyes stared everyone down Just try me...I've got the JDF at my back so you're stuck with my inerpertation

"Sir Ozy please rise and take the Oath of Office" The judge began. The small grey fox creature rose and placed his paw on the International Guide to the Klatch and its black leather cover and raised his right paw.
"Please repeat after me"
"Do you, Sir Ozymandias J. Llewellyn solemnly swear that you will faithfully execute the office of President of the Federated Klachian Coast, and will to the best of my ability, shall bear witness to all Godmodding, preserve the States, protect the rights of the States and defend the Constitution of the Federated Klatchian Coast?"
"I do, so help me Athena..."

The Durakian Straits
The royal yaht, Elizabeth turned the headland and began to make her way for Vrak Prime. She was flying a black banner over the Alconian Colors that flew at half mast as she carried the Alconian Royal Family, including Alexadander III to the funeral of the Walrus King.

OOC: Yup stiff Alconian as next President. Until we get the electors gathered and hold a new election. Actually fuzzy Alconian...bookies take all bets!!!

Ilek-Vaad

Coming up from Port Olympus, the Nachxa would have seen the huge mountain chain that ran nearly the entire length of the country from north to west. Nearing the capital itself, domes of various shapes and sizes could be discerned as they descended through the atmosphere. The odd military base here, the industrial complex there and large apartment complexes sandwiched in between signified the advanced state of the Kingdom. But a lack of greenery would be noticeable and some gashes in the land itself could be seen. A trained eye would see that it wasn’t the result of some open pit mining operation but, more ominously, the result of some kind of weapon.

The general nature of the country looked rugged, although one could see some terracing and many greenhouses. It seemed that the Vrakians pressed every square centimetre of land into service.

Six fighter jets met with the Vaadians from the initial crossing over into Vrakian airspace and provided a protective envelope for the entourage.



The Nachxa looked out over the countryside as it slipped away under them , he turned and looked to the fighters that had taken their side as an escort, he sat back and relaxed quietly closing his eyes.

"If the Vrakians choose blood to heal the wound of their King's death, that is their choice Tacha. It is not so long ago that it is what we would have done."

Tacha looked over at The Nachxa but said nothing.

"Do you remember when the God-Emperor Ehecatl returned to the underworld?" He continued.

Tacha blinked "No Colli, I am only thirty two, that was two hundred years ago."

The Nachxa smiled "When Pilli Ehecatl returned to his brothers We sent out The Jaguars and they brought us every law breaker, prisoner and malcontent for hundreds of miles and for fifteen days we marched them up the Great Pyramid of Teztcatlipoca. We sacrificed each and everyone of them, thousands upon thousands, their hearts pulled out and their bodies burned to celebrate the eternal power of the God-Emperors and to stock the underworld with salves to serve them and our ancestors."

Tacha sat silently.

The Nachxa smiled "Sometimes things must be done, simply to be done."

Tacha looked at her hands "That is barbaric."

The Nachxa laughed " Yes, yes it is, but, that is life as well."

Gleefully, Mau Slurp counted his winnings. All those fools, betting on someone other than a stiff Alconian! Everyone knew it would be a stiff Alconian. He carefully arranged the money around the floor of his master bedroom, greased himself up, and started to roll around in the enormous wads of cash. "Mine, all mine," he giggled. "All bets final!"

---

In a different part of the city, a much fatter man was writing a letter. Scribble scribble, huff huff, he tried out his most deferential whine.

Dear Sir Ozymandias,

Please accept my congratulations and those of my government on your selection as interim president. I am certain that the parliament of the Klatch rests in good hands.

May i ask what date we will be required to name our Electors? As you know, my state has had no opportunity yet to take part in a Klatchian election. As election buffs, we Burungis are all too keen to take aprt in the Klatchian festival of democracy. I envision a process in which each village will elect a Klatchian disucssion circle, to be followed by Klatch squares in each of our Six Nations, which will meet and choose an elector per nation, who will then play a round of competitive lap dancing to select the electors and three alternates. Will this be convenient?

Nate E. Visser
Council for Elections and Irritainment, Six Nations of Tanah Burung

Near the Vrakian border

From the Marathon aircraft the Lord Tengil's pilots could now see the federal territory of former Monte Ozarka give way to Vrak far ahead. A message was relayed to Vrak that the Karmanyakans were inbound for Vrak Prime.

The two escort fighters slowed down to a safe distance in order to let the Vrakian escort take over.

--

Council Hall, Katla, capital city of Karmanyaka

"I gather the Vrakians have a rather bloody way of succession?" said the man in the strange outfit.

He wore a baggy grey robe made of rough wool. On top of his head was a strange hat that looked a bit like a pencil stand. There was in fact a small silver pencil stuck into it. In his hand he carried a staff crowned by a big gilt paperclip.

"Yes, your excellency..." said the clerk absently, while continuing to write.

"By Nuggan, those strange creatures are an abomination!" said the man and banged his fist on the desk next to the clerk, making him jump.

"Please, your excellency." said the clerk pleadingly. "The minister will see you soon and-" the door behind the clerk opened and the Minister to the Klatch leaned out his head. Sir Henry Pommer had recently returned from a rather pointless trip to Port Olympus and had since then left the international scene for the interregional one. Pommer was now Karmanyakan Minister to the Klatch.

“Ah... your excellency.” he did not manage to conceal his contempt for the Arch Zealot of the Karmanyakan Church of Nuggan. “Do come in.” He said and motioned the priest to enter his office.

“Thank you, sir Knight, for seeing me at this time of-” said the Arch Zealot and sat down heavily in the chair opposite the desk.

“Yes, yes. ‘Mr Pommer’ will do just fine.” said the minister while staring at the priest.

“You know of course, Mr Pommer,” his left eye twitched “that the Nugganite community is following the ongoing power shift in the region with great interest and-“

“I’m sorry, Arch Zealot Percival, but Karmanyaka can’t even try to elect a Nugganite to the office of President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.”

The twitching always got worse when people interrupted the Arch Zealot and that tended to happen often.

“Why not? Perhaps Almighty Nuggan look more kindly upon us all if we propose a faithful president?”

“No. I’m sorry but the Nugganites are a minority in Karmanyaka and there are several far more popular gods for the Council to listen to than Nuggan. Besides, Karmanyaka is still a small member state and our influence on Klatchian politics isn’t very great.” And, even more importantly, the rest of the world would think we were fools if we promoted the ridiculous teachings of Nuggan!

“I will pray that Nuggan let his spirit shine over the election.” said the priest dreamily.

“Yes until then we will probably have to do with the Alconian sir Ozy.”

“Have mercy on us! A fox?! It’s an abomination unto Nuggan! A walrus was bad enough, but a dog! I say!”

“Now you must excuse me, your excellency. But I have much to do. We have a coutry to rebuild and a Klatchian nation to look after so that we don’t have to rebuild that too.”

“Of course, thank you sir Knight and may Nuggan organize your desk.*”

*Nuggan is the God of Paperclips, Correct Things in the Right Place in Small Desk Stationery Sets, and Unnecessary Paperwork. Nuggan is also the patron deity of the League of Klatchian Bureaucrats (LKB) and has a rather fancy temple in Port Olympus, visited daily by hundreds of FKC papershufflers.

To: Tanah Burung
CC: All State Governments
The selection/election of Electors of any state must occur between now and the date set for the meeting of the Electors in Port Olympus. As the Keys have not yet set a date for the meeting, I can not inform you or any other state when that date shall be, only that it must be within fourty-six weeks of yesterday.

The Constitution allows states to chose their electors in whatever fashion they so desire. Just remember that these individuals will hold their posts for twenty years until the next Executive Election

Futhermore, I would ask that all campaining for the Presidency not occur until after the funeral of our fallen, beloved President Vrak.

With Best Wishes
President Llewellyn


KCN News
....Breaking News Update....
"We go live to Parliament Hill where the Vrakian Kings Own have been ordered to leave the Presidential Palace by the new President, Sir Ozy..."

Three figures in the uniforms of the JDF were moving towards a group of Vrakian officers. The group handed the vrakians orders of somekind and then waited. In the distance camera bulbs and spot beams pushed down on the scene as the media tried to record the event.

Royal palace

Emilia was in high spirits. All this was so exciting, she felt like a kid in one of those fairytale musicals they showed sometimes on Reich TV. Dressed up animals everywhere who spoke with good manners and even acted like gentlemen this was unheard of! She was used to dull old diplomats or religious fanatics ranting and raving about all the heathen countries outside the Reich. She walked over to her bed and flung herself on it. It was soft and fluffy and very comfortable. She wasn't sure exactly what would happen at the funeral but in the meantime she sure was going to investigate all these foreign strange cultures nad she hoped she would get a good opportunity soon.

Reichskamphen

“Greetings and welcome, Emperor Napoleon IV of Reichskamphen to the Glorious Kingdom of Vrak,” intoned the protocol officer. At that, a major let out a bark and the soldiers that were at parade rest reverted to attention – machine guns swung in rhythm with the left hand partway up with the heel at the bottom of the lowered right hand, muzzle up.

Two rows of fifty soldiers each stood before Napoleon IV as he inspected the honour guard. The King’s Own were in the red, grey, and black Royal Dress with each one wearing a helmet similar to what the Vikings had long ago – the true kind not the romanticized version with horns. The King’s Own themselves were composed of all areas of Vrak as reflected in the shades of skin colour. From the darker Inuit to the much lighter Nef dwellers, all were equal in Vrak’s special forces. Their red cloaks lazily flapped in the breeze.

At the end were ten walruses in a single row, head held high as the Reichskamphen Emperor passed. They were the underwater demolitions team that saw action in the Neo Tyr campaign. Behind the protocol officer at two paces was the large bodyguard who was talking quietly in the harsh, guttural language of Vrakian.

At the end of the review was a sleek, black limousine flanked by two APCs. The door was opened by a servant and in the distance an attack helicopter rose from its pad.

“This way, Emperor, unless of course you wish to travel in something more heavily armoured?” motioned the protocol officer. He was an average looking man with no remarkable features in a tuxedo but his manners were impeccable which was perfect for the station he occupied..

Macisikan

To:
Count Ethelred Aldreset, Acting Minister of External Affairs
Baroness Sophronsa Aryet, Rechtaire for Klatchian Relations
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We would be honoured to receive your at the King’s funeral. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter and has been informed of your arrival.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]



Dyelli Beybi

-What is the literacy rates in Dyelli Beybi?
-Sir?
-Oh, never mind.

The Intelligence Director looked over the Dyellian card. He sometimes still couldn’t believe why it was Vrak’s fate to share their border but short of redrawing the entire map, there it was. And the Dyellian way of attracting attention from the international community caused him a few sleepless nights. He played with the card as he thought. Should the various factions from that unstable neighbour even be allowed? He worried that if someone did come that Vrak would be granting that faction legitimacy when that would be the furthest from the truth. So far, they didn’t indicate that anyone would be coming up and the Vrakian corridor was relatively quiet. So, he decided to do nothing until the Dyellians actually wanted to send someone. Still, he let the Southern HORDE group monitor any unusual air traffic since he could just imagine the Dyellians sending someone while not informing the paranoid Vrakians resulting in their jet being shot out of the sky. What a mess that would be!

New Shiron

The message was received and special accommodations were set aside for the air cars. This aroused some curiousity on the part of the Royal Chamberlain himself. Air cars? Most interesting.


Alcona and Hubris
parliament

A loud hrumph could be heard from the Vrakians as Sir Ozy put his hand on the book. One key was bent over busily searching through the constitution. Can the speaker really take over in the interim? Granted, it did lend a certain aura of stability but the proud Vrakians were still dealing with their now sudden loss of political clout.


outskirts of the Walrus Sea

A guardian patrol picked up the Alconian royal yacht and began to head in that direction, relaying a message indicating they were Guardian patrol #17 and to please identify themselves. Far overhead, a Vrakian satellite was tasked to monitor this situation.

presidential Palace

The lead Vrakian commander merely nodded as the documents were given. He scrutinized them carefully to make sure they were genuine. Satisfied, a few barks in Vrakian set in motion the pullout of all their assets.


Vrak Prime International

The later arrivals by air had a similar greeting of six fighter jets intoning a greeting while slipping into escort formation.

They would be efficiently directed to their own spots on the tarmac complete with honour guide arrival, protocol officer, and bodyguard. The weather was overcast and was threatening to rain later in the afternoon.

Vegana

The staff were exquisitely polite to Emilia while the large Inuit bodyguard (the same from the airport) stood statuelike inside the guest apartment but only being able to observe the living room which the main door opened into. Of course he could be told to leave if asked.

The quarters for each guest were quite lavish with richly carved wooden furniture, a huge table in the dining room, beautiful but perhaps somewhat odd artwork, and generally the finer things of life that were on par with being in the Royal Palace itself. It reflected the might and wealth of the Kingdom and Vrak was a rich state within the Klatch.

OOC: Somewhat out of order, but then things never did run smoothly

(At the bottom of a pile someplace was the following note)

To: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
From: The Royal Family of the United Duchies

We are greatly saddened by the loss of the King of Vrak, who has been a great ally since the unification. As such, his Grace, Alexander III, Markgravine Both and Landgravine Hubris will be attending the funeral to show both their personal respects as well as the respects of the entire United Duchies.

The Landgravine will of course be traveling from Port Olympus under the JDF. However, his Grace and the Markgravine will be arriving via the royal yaht ARN Elizabeth with a few guests.

*********
The Straits
JDF Code VZ09-2109
Guardian patrol number seventeen, this is the ARN Elizabeth transporting the Royal Alconian Delegation to Vrak Prime and the King's Funeral. We are being escorted by the pocket carrier Wenhome to your territorial waters

As a warship the Elizabeth was an antique. Built sometime before the dawn of the twentith century she actually was sailing northeast with the strong wind at her back. Her huge billowing square sails made her quite an attractive ship. Somewhere over the horizon was a small carrier that was keeping an eye out on all the local shipping.

(T.G. Vrak)

The next message was delivered via international express post, with some very odd looking holographic stamps in the wrong places.


To: The Vrakian Diplomatic Core, Terra
From: The Chancellor of the Var

We have heard of the death of the Great Walrus Lord, and of the death rites that your kind shall give him. The Overlord has expressed his desire to attend these rites and to pay honor to the Lord's life and deeds.

May your future Great Lord rise to the levels of Vrak, the Great Walrus Lord himself.

Ethelred stared at Sophronsa over the Vrakian memo.
"I'll go of course," she was saying in a dry tone of voice, "as the Rechtaire we've assigned to them, but you said a High official. It may have escaped your notice, but half of them are still on holiday."
"We could always send... him," the Acting Minister replied.
Sophronsa hesitated before answering.
"Ye-eesss, but I don't think we're far enough up the totem pole to send... him."
"Who exactly are you talking about?"
The two jumped at the newcomer's voice; they turned around as Nicola, Queen-Empress of the Empire, and the one they referred to as "The Boss's Wife" swept in.
Young, extraordinarily pretty, and quite pregnant, she was just as capable of freezing the blood as the First Minister was.
"Well?"
"Umm... this Vrakian funeral..." Aldreset replied "we, we, were going to send, ah..."
"Out with it man!"
"We were going to send Lord Perez," Sophronsa cut in.
"Uncle Sandro?" Nicola replied, one aristocratic eyebrow raised. "Actually, that's quite a good idea. Yes. Uncle Sandro. I'll talk to him."
She smiled at their dumbfounded expressions, and swept from the room.

Less then an hour later, the elderly Alessandro Perez accompanied by Baroness Aryet, a small entourage, and a selection of the Temple Guard, had boarded an Air Diplomatique flight to Vrak, to pay their respects... and to observe the political bloodletting as both Vrak and Klatch sought a new leader.

=======
Some hours later, near the Vrakian border*...

The Imperial Air Force escorts peeled away as the Diplomatic flight sent notification of their entry, flight plan, and destination, to the Vrakians.

OOC: *I assume that at some place Vrak borders onto international airspace.

"No, no." The Emperor smiled. "I believe this will be just fine. Quite spacious indeed." He quickly got into the car along with his Foreign Minister.

"We are greatly grieved at the King's death." Napoleon informed the man who had opened the door for him. (OOC: I am assuming this gentleman would ride with him to where he was going. If not, I'll correct.)

"I hope there is atleast one clear candidate to inherit the throne, and hopefully the Presidency. I would very much hope that a quick resolution will be at hand." Napoleon continued.

The Nachxa's jet had arrived in Vrak Prime. He had only his grand-daughter and four of his 'staff' with him. His 'staff' left their heavy weapons aboard the Marathon Transport, but still wore their banded armour and side arms. They did cover their armour with ceremonial embroidered surcoats and jaguar skin cloaks, The Nachxa , of course, was dressed in all black, including his wood grained cane, which was now shiny black.

He bowed graciously to his escort and waited with interest to see what the Vrakian's would do with their band as The Free Republic had no national anthem. There were several 'unofficial' national anthems used at sporting events and such, but the Republican Council had always thought that picking an anthem, was a waste of time and tax payers money. They were also amused by the confusion it caused other nations.

OOC: Sorry about the tag, Vrak, but I can't use the stupid "Thread Tools" thing, under which the subscribe function is. :(

Next in line after the Vaadian delegation was the Karmanyakan one. The aircraft was ready to land as soon as the Nachxa and his entourage had left the tarmac.

--

In Port Olympus the Karmanyakan delegation conferred in the Delegation office on the issue of the Presidential Election.

"To suggest a new president before King Vrak is buried would probably affront the Vrakians." reasoned first Junior Key, Woolfe Johnsson.

"Yes. Nevertheless, the Federation needs a leader. As it is now the FKC lack almost all important roles. We now have an interrim President, but no longer a Speaker." the dark voice of Sir John Pike was interrupted by a violent cough. He smoked fat, foul cigarrs and hence Port Olympus fitted him fine, since Karmanyaka had prohibited smoking many years ago. "It is vital that the FKC strengthens its institutions and regain the grip on this region, especially after the exodus of New Shiron and the Midlonian defection. Without central power the initiative lies with greater, more powerful states like the United Duchies and Vrak."

"At least the Dyellian civil war gives us a small breather." said Johnsson.

"Yes, but I don't like the reactions of our fellow Klatchians towards Vaadian ventures in Karmanyaka." said the timid voice of Second Junior Key Kolya Heinz.

"Let's see what happens in Vrak before we make any important decisions on this issue." Pike concluded.

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Classes started and I finally found some crucial information on my harddrive relating to this whole affair. Thank you all for your patience. As well, Derscon, I know the feeling since it happens to me so don't worry about that. As well, does anyone see the need for a seperate ooc thread? If you think it needs one, by all means set one up and provide the link. I'll make sure to include it in the first post as well.

Well crap, a thought which echoed throughout all levels of the Sketchian hierarchy. From the DiploCorps, to the intelligence community, to the noble houses, to the military. While the ruling houses mostly mourned the idea of a dead sovereign, the rest of the government scrambled to make heads or tails out of the recent news.

Sketchian intelligence felt the brunt of the critisms that always accompany bad news. Primarily along the lines of "why didn't you tell us/know about this sooner?" With the unenviable position of being expected to provide the tommorrow's news yesterday, intelligence often finds itself unduly constrained by political niceties. Usually, Sketch's best would pride themselves on being able to find out what a nation's leader had for breakfast and how many times the head chef spat in the soup, but, in Vrak's case, things worked differently. Not only was it harder to penetrate security, as was the case with all high level officals of powerful nations, but it was deemed "poor form" by certain diplomatic standards. Being caught by another nation was all part of the "game", but to be nabbed by a friendly would be embarassing on a diplomatic relations scale. Thus, intelligence took a more hands off approach when it came to dealing with Vrak and other friendly nations. Given the relative secrecy of the King's ailment and subsequent death, this resulted in a less than satisfactory "late breaking news" intelligence report. Needless to say, the "discreteness" level will be reconsidered for future intelligence operations.

As for the DiploCorps and the military, the same thought process ran through each. How can we best use this situation to our advantage. Allied or no, their jobs were to ensure that Sketch came out ahead no matter what. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to work with. Being a friendly nation, Vrak was already in the desired categories of "non-hostile' and "good relations". Even more so, recent arms purchases and military commitments on the behalf of Order allies made Vrak a shining example of goodness. By the days end, both departments will come to see that their mission would be to keep Vrak in such a state of "friendly nation".

On a level far above the daily shuffle of papers and dreary drones of the bureaucracy sat the ruling power of Sketch. Indifferent to the petty concens of such things as "diplomacy" and "military advantage", the nobles felt the the effects of the sovereign's death on a more personal level. The death of a blue blood was always a shame, and a cause for great sadness. But even more so, death always meant succession, and there was great interest in who whould come take hold the reins of Vrak.

Most importantly, Das Sketch, the ruler of Sketch, Lady Jagara, took a personal interest in the matter. Not only did she have a vested interest in seeing how the situation panned out, but as far as one of noble blood is concerned, it would be just short of an insult to the Vrakian king to have anyone other than his equal to represent another sovereign power. Here, the wishes of the nobles took precendence over diplomatic niceties. Lady Jagara would be attending the funeral personally.

returned via Vrakian messenger

It grieves me hear of the passing of your beloved leader. Because mere words do no justice, I wish to offer my sincerest and most heartfelt condolences in person to the Vrakian peoples for the loss of their great leader. Throughout his righteous rule, he has shown great wisdom and strength of will. He has lived a long and vigorous life, and now must part with this mortal coil. May his spirit continue to guide your great nation on its path of destiny.

Lady Jagara,
Das Sketch

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shortly thereafter, the Vrakian diplomatic office received the following message:


To: Vrak Diplomatic Corps
From: Sketch DiploCorps

Lady Jagara shall be arriving on her personal skyfortress, the Valefor. During her stay she will accompanied by her royal guardsmen. We trust that appropriate measures will be taken to accomodate our Lady and her escort.

Short, brusque, and almost rude, the messaged coveyed one simple point - Das Sketch was going to pay a visit, but so was alot of other not so friendly security forces. It could hardly be considered unexpected of course, espeically considering that this would be the first time this particular Das Sketch had left the protective embrace of the capital. No Das Sketch had ever fallen to an outside force, and this time would be no exception.

Three Lydan destroyers approached the planet at high speed; their mission today was one of peace. They had been assigned to transport Chair Woman Jade Allenson to oVrak, so that she may attended the King if Vrak’s funeral service. Though the trip was meant for a show of support during these sad times, the ships carried out their task with great pride. Assuming a orbit over the planet a single transport craft disembarked from one of the destroyers, with a three fighter escort it started its decent towards the planet below.

“Attention Vrak airspace command.” Said the pilot casually. “This Phoenix 1 of Tappee, requesting permission to enter your airspace, and a approach vector in.”

In Karmanyaka, the Council was amazed by the sheer avalanche of foreign dignitaries hitting Vrak.

"We have to be careful. It's never good to have that many leaders in one place." said one of the Council members.

"No, it's dangerous in so many ways - terrorist acts, assasinations and even accidents. Not to mention having all those leaders with too little to do and the echoing void left behind by the King. Someone could get funny ideas." another said.

"I think we should have Kader leave as soon as the ceremony is over. Just to be on the safe side." said the first.

"What and miss all the fun?" said a third Council member with a vry smile, to the accompanyment of his colleagues' laughter.

"Well, you're right." said the Minister of Finance, sir Peter O'Beese. "We cannot afford to be left out if there should be any important issues and decisions to take care of. Karmanyaka has to take this opportunity to open up to the world and make use of the situation."

Most of the other politicians nodded silently.

OOC: Sketch and Tapee really I am not trying to be hostile here. But both of you have sort of 'gone over the edge' as it were with a sky fortress and three destroyers parked in orbit (I'm assuming above the Klatch)

Above the Klach was a space station, Klatch One. It looked more like a giant box than anything else with various large craft docked at random locations around the sides. When the Tappee taskforce was spotted approaching 'Klatchian' space above the Federation, a signal was sent out.


Unidentified Destroyer Group maintain parking orbit outside of Klatchian Secured Space. Failure to do so will be treated as a hostile act.

Meanwhile in Port Olympus Gabrielle sorted through various outfits trying to figure out what to wear and wondering where the hell her husband was and why he hadn't called back yet.

A lady wasn't supposed to go to a funeral without an escort after all.

The door to Gabrielle's closet was pushed open and a silent figure slipped in the door. The talk man, dressed in black walked up behind Gabrielle and then stopped, contemplating the beutiful creature before him. Then the figure leaned over and kissed the nape of her neck. "So how is the most wonderful, exquisite woman the universe has ever known." He asked as he pulled back.

ooc: please note that this is a personal skyfortress, ie, an outward appearance of typical military vessel, but inward design of luxury suited for a royal head of state. Besides, since this is obviously a peaceful event, I don't see why you'd get your panties in a bunch over some flavor text.

The Valefor hovered silently just outside the Klatchian border. While normally the Sketchian practice would be to plow right through and answer all hails later, there were appearances to keep and procedures to follow; with Vrak being a friendly ally and all. And since Vrak was part of the greater Klatchian Federation, decorum demanded that Sketch treat the rest of the federation with the same respect it would normally only offer to Vrak. The fact that Lady Jagara wanted an uneventful trip didn't make things any easier for the command crew.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

What is taking so long Captain? The Lady grows impatient. She wishes to pay her respects to the departed king.

Please convey my most sincere apologies for the delay. Unfortunately, it appears that some factions within Klatch don't appreciate our presence. I am prepared to continue on towards Vrak inspite of this issue if my Lady wishes.

Hold, for now. I shall inform you if and when the Lady desires that it be so.

Her hip back in working order, Violeta Bi Bere was packing a small bag for the trip to Vrak. She'd heard of all the fancy war machines coming to town, but the old ways were always best, she thought. Travel light, and pack simply.

Outside, attendants were preparing her personal blimp for the trip north. It seemed like a shame to travel with all those empty seats. She pondered for a moment and then picked up the phone and dialled the number for the Karmanyakan Keys office.

"In a meeting? Oh, no, that's fine, let them meet. Just tell the dear old Keys that Violeta Bi Bere called and offered any of them that might be heading to the King's funeral a spot on my blimp.... Yes, the airship Old Stiffie, bound for Vrak.... Yes, we democrats have to stick together!"

The Royal couple, representing the Lords of War and the Star Kingdom of New Shiron soon were aboard Gabrielles personal shuttle, a jumbo jet sized space craft, and on their way to the funeral. Their key aides were with them in, but the couple had the use of a nice suite for a couple of hours of quiet travel.

With them was another shuttle, with security troops and the vehicles the trip required.

"So darling, tell me about our new President. What species is he, what is his origin, and for that matter, how is he from Alcona and Hubris exactly?"

ooc
just to get this show on the road as I am in the middle of a really complicated RP elsewhere

Alcona


To:
His Grace, Alexander III
Markgravine Both
Landgravine Hubris
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We would be honoured to receive your at the King’s funeral. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter and has been informed of your arrival.


The Straits
JDF Code VZ09-2109
Guardian patrol number seventeen, this is the ARN Elizabeth transporting the Royal Alconian Delegation to Vrak Prime and the King's Funeral. We are being escorted by the pocket carrier Wenhome to your territorial waters


The lead captain of the VNF Squig nodded as the transmission came over the speaker.

-Tell the Alconians that we shall offer escort and that the Wenhome is cleared to accompany them as well.
-Yes, Captain.

The comm officer encrypted the message using the proper JDF channels while the 5 ships spread out and slowly arc around to guide the Alconians in. Vrak Prime was perhaps the busiest port in the Kingdom and so they would have to navigate around huge container vessels that carried goods from all over the world to keep the consumers of Vrak happy and, more importantly, occupied.

As they would draw closer, the ever reliable Kravoli patrol craft would augment the group and be the first line of defense should an attack actually come. Unknown to this particular guardian group a hunter/killer submarine patrol was relatively nearby and ready to lend assistance as well.

====

The Intelligence Director looked over the latest list of dignitaries signaling their arrival. The Chancellor of the Var! Das Sketch! He groaned and then fired off a message to tighten security. This was slowly becoming a security nightmare and while he was confident in the abilities of the VIS, the military and the relative safety of Vrak itself, not to mention the unspeakable retaliation that would undoubtedly be visited upon by the wounded nation. But still, the Intelligence Director did not want Vrak to lose any face.


To: The Chancellor of the Var
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We would be honoured to receive your at the King’s funeral. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter and has been informed of your arrival.

We all miss our King but we know that he is now in the Strange and contemplating the mysteries and delights of the Great Clam.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]


He wasn’t quite sure what prompted him to write the last sentence. Relations with the Var have always been cordial at the very least but very infrequent. The VIS still haven’t quite managed a proper psychological profiling of them and their ways were all but unknown. Still, the Overlord did marry the former Queen of New Shiron. Perhaps he should ask here about them he mused to himself. A throbbing headache was beginning and after a quick shot of vodka, he composed the next letter.


To: Sketch DiploCorps
From: Vrak Diplomatic Corps

We would be honoured to receive the Lady Jagara at the King’s funeral. More details will be forthcoming upon your arrival but you will staying at the King’s own Palace. The Royal Chamberlain is in charge of the details in this matter and has been informed of your arrival. Rest assured, your safety is our number one priority.

[Seal of the Vrak Diplomatic Corps]


Of course, everyone’s security was his concern for he would lose his head if a major incident developed. He wondered if anyone would actually try something but the latest updates indicated that nations that might actually try something haven’t indicated any such move. He was banking on Vrak’s generally neutral stance towards others, especially those in the Triumvirate of Yut. But no, that isn’t their way he thought. Anyone in KIST or the NDA? Unlikely. Arda? No. They seem to have become more isolationist as of late as well as those in Sisgardia. Gholgoth? Again unlikely. They’ve never crossed paths and both tend to steer away from their respective interests. So, he let himself breath a little and kept going long into the night writing notes…

Ilek-Vaad

OOC: I’m pretty sure that I got everyone who is sending someone. If I missed you, I apologize but assume that the usual greetings have been sent. Ilek-Vaad, I hope you don’t think of it too much of a stretch that we Vrakians would know you don’t have a national anthem and would plan accordingly. After all, we’ve had fairly long relations and certainly someone in our External Affairs would know a little bit about Vaadian culture. But I can edit as always if you wish.

IC:

As the Reichskamphen aircraft was carefully guided into a nearby and quite secure hanger in the distance, the protocol officer, this one a stunning and athletically built Inuit six foot woman bowed as The Nachxa exited.

““Greetings and welcome, Nachxa of Ilek-Vaad, to the Glorious Kingdom of Vrak,” said the woman as the band played the spirited Vrakian anthem. As with the first arrivals, the 100 strong honour guard stood for inspection along with ten gigantic walruses at the end. The six foot six Inuit, complete with long hair tightly wound in a ponytail, stood two paces behind the officer.

The sleek armoured limousine waited for their guests while two IFVs, one front and one behind made up the small convoy that would take the Vaadians to the Royal Palace.



Reichskamphen

“I hope there is atleast one clear candidate to inherit the throne, and hopefully the Presidency. I would very much hope that a quick resolution will be at hand."

The protocol officer smiled slightly at the words of the Emperor while forming a tent with his hands and drew them to his lips, forehead wrinkled in thought. After a moment, as if trying to find the most precise words that can compress the last 500 years of history into a moment he began.

“Emperor, let me assure you that our Kingdom does indeed have a system to bring about a fairly quick resolution to the throne but it is not quite in line with what you may be familiar with.”

A pause and the hands open up.

“The corporations in Vrak, such as Apollo, Power Corp., Hyperion, Gargantua, and so on were once extensions of certain families of the nobility. You see, acquiring wealth was done by business and trade and families that could get more wealth could by more soldiers and therefore have easier access to the King. Some nobles became to use the titles of ‘CEO’ instead of ‘Duke’ or ‘Baron’ for example, much to the chagrin of others. Even those outside the nobility could ascend to this ‘new nobility’. Of course, this did not last and then the ‘Huk Tuk Ruio’ – or “Corporate Wars” occurred. Suffice to say, the reasons were complex but the aftermath was nation altering.

“The corporations were stripped of their own private armies but allowed to have more political clout. The King would then have a stake in each Great House but titles were left alone. As well, how each House defined their own leader was left up to them. King Vroko was behind this, for he was a brilliant strategist in both military and economic matters. As well, the choosing of the new King was decided upon by the initiation of the “Kar Uy Rekuytur” or “Rite of Ascension to the Throne” which let each Great House put forth a candidate to vie for that prize. Also, the Parliament of Vrak was created to placate the common man and walrus since King Vroko knew he needed the populace to curb the desires of the Great Houses. Still, that institution is made up of political parties that are extensions of the Great Houses, but the opportunity is there.

“Yuwiu Vroko , the son of King Vrak entered the Kar Uy Rekuytur and won. He took the name of King Vrak the First and it is his funeral that we are honouring. After the funeral, the second Rite of Ascension to the Throne will be held and all the Great Houses, or should I say the corporations will be participating. The chance to become King is too great to pass up but I should mention that even the King is bound by the Law.”

A much longer pause this time as the outskirts of the city began to transform into a greater concentration of buildings. Slums were evident this far out though but the city began to look cleaner as one delved deeper in.

====

Steel Butterfly, Sketch, Tappee, Alcona

A warning light came on in the Vrak Military High Command. The on-duty colonel frowned and then his eyes widened with realization. Of course. Klatch One detected intruders. At this time? By Bok’s Maw…

Another transmission was then detected:

“Attention Vrak airspace command.” Said the pilot casually. “This Phoenix 1 of Tappee, requesting permission to enter your airspace, and a approach vector in.”

Crap.

A quick phone call to a now irritated High General brought an uncomfortable lump to the colonel. But at the other end of the line the High General cursed and confirmed if the proper channels were sent to all Klatchian orbital assets. Klatch One had been a highly secretive project so it was possible that whatever messages the Vrakians sent to their JDF counterparts may have been misdirected.

Quickly, powerful ground telescopes as well as Vrakian satellites were brought to bear. Yes. Three destroyer type vessels along with some kind of fortress lay just outside Klatchian space. Quickly he thought who they could be. Someone with space vessels….Order members. Shit.

-Patch me through to Klatch One now.
-Yes, High General.
-And wake up the Intelligence Director.


**********
Encrytion – MAX; JDF protocols 879214; route: Vrak Military High Command to Klatch One; route:…complete; Priority: URGENT
**********

Due to the funeral, there may be allies of Vrak that will arrive via space vessels. We apologize for miscommunication, although our records indicate that we sent a missive to JDF command before arrival of any space-borne vehicles.

The nations that we have confirmed so far in this particular manner are: Steel Butterfly, Sketch, and Tappee.

Attached are key one-time IFF codes using Order protocols. This should confirm as to whether they are who they say they are.

[Seal of the Vrak Military High Command]
[Seal of the High General]


A signal was sent from a powerful ground transmitter to the lead Tappee fighter pilot.

“Attention Phoenix One. Permission Granted. Please take the following flight vector.”

Of course, the flight plan was to take the small entourage as far away from Klatch One for the moment and come down over the Northern Sea closest to the northern tip of Vrak and far from the Var. For these arrivals coming by space, a military spaceport would be their arrival point since it was felt to be more secure and, well, more able to hide the incoming vessels from any prying eyes.


Karmanyaka, New Shiron, Macisikan, Tanah Burung

The arrival of these craft were expected and expertly guided into sequential intervals at the International airport. Each dignitary was greeted with the pomp and circumstance benefiting their station. And each troop of honour guard, protocol officer, and bodyguard waited patiently.

The weather was becoming overcast by the minute. How appropriate thought one protocol officer, casting an eye on the clouds rolling in from the east and stupidly wondered if there was an umbrella in the limo. Another one, perhaps more of a religious bent comforted herself by saying the rain symbolized the tears of the Vrakian people shed by Bok at the death of their liege.


OOC: Macisikan, right. Vrak does border international airspace but mostly that would be north of Vrak proper. I can’t find a map of Vrak at the moment but this link should give you a general idea.

http://www.freewebs.com/klatchia/atlas.htm


Vegana

In the luxurious living room, a golden phone rang melodiously. If Emilia happened to look at the Inuit bodyguard, he would merely grunt and indicate that the phone was for her.

The ARN Elizabeth
Captain Marisa Mackine stood on the bridge of the Elizabeth. The tall windows gave her a view of the world's shipping that passed through these waters to and from Vrak Prime.

"Sir, we have an irate supertanker captain..." the officer of the watch reported. "Fine, I'll deal with it, let the XO figure out what to do about those pair of mega-container ships" She picked up a black phone, a modern edition to the space. "This is Captain Mackine of the ARN Elizabeth..." She paused and pulled the phone away from her ear. "Captain, Ukia was it? Yes Captain might I remind you that as long as the Elizabeth is operating under sail that we have the right of way." She pulled the phone away from her ear again. "Well it might be outdated, but it is the rule of the sea captain..."

Marisa's eyes turned cold for a moment, "I should remind you Captain Ukia that unlike the Jack of Spades we are an armed warship, I have my forward nine inch gun crew practice often." Marisa had a wry smile on her face, "I thank you for your understanding Captain, I am sorry that we will cause you to change your course and lose a few hours..."

The put the receiver back on the wall as another officer in dress uniform appeared next to her arm. "Captain, the Wenhome CAC has recommended that we allow those two mega-container ships to maintain their course while we alter south by two points to pass behind them."

"Do you concur Vanderhof?" Marisa was a bit worried about her new executive officer, he was a bit deferential to an escort carrier's navigator. Of course the Wenhome had several plotting tables and computers, far more than could be reasonably fit in the Elizabeth's cramped map room.

"Yes, really we need to turn futher south anyway as we enter the Vrakian Sea."

"Fine, notify all shipping of our course change and keep our escort in the loop..."

"Aye Aye Captain..."

******
"Ah ha! well the railroad monopoly finally makes a bad roll. A ten rather than a nine would have saved your House a great deal of money...but now pay up!"
The blond was smiling with an evil grin as she looked across the table.

"The Royal House of Vrak always pays its debts, although staying on the Boardwalk with a hotel upon it is rather expensive for my coffers. However my railroads have made me more than able to pay your outragous rent Elizabeth." The voice was odd, a bit high comming from the large walrus sitting on the stern deck of the Elizabeth.

As the colorful slips of paper exchanged hands, both turned to look at the third player who was studying the sheets and sails above. "We've dropped two points south..."

"Your turn your Grace..." the Walrus added in somber tones.

"Ah quite...thank you Paul..." Alexander stopped looking up but down at the board. "Hmm, it would seem that you have payed dearly on that last roll."

"Quite, and unless you are unfortunate enough to land on one of my railroads, I may soon have to mortgage everything to pay off that demon of a slum lord you sired."

The young blond gave a fake look of shock, "Why coming from Prince Paul, the walrus who turned a fourty acre Hubarian industrial site into Wacky Walrus World, I should think that my ability to capture individuals both before and after they get their paychecks would be appreciated."

Alexander rolled the dice and smiled, "How nice, I get to pay myself rent.."

At that moment a young midshipman appeared, he looked as though he were about to puke over his white uniform, as nervous as he was. He caughed loudly to get Alexander's attention. "Yes..."

"With Captain Mackine's complements she asked that I inform your Grace, your Grace, and your ladyship that we will be dropping sail in thirty minutes and arriving into Vrakprime in about fourty-five."

"Thank you...Wathum..." He saluted the young man and then looked down at the board. "Well Prince Paul, shall we both conceed to the Markgravine. She appears to have us both at severe disadvantage..."

OOC: Sketch my panties (or boxers in my case) are not in a twist. I was responding as the Var would in this situation.

Klatch One
<The Walruses desire to allow both these groups, and others into orbit...>
<Pah! One of their kind dies and we are supposed to instantly trust them?>
<No...but we shall not distrust them either...>
<Get the sniviling Terran to write out the recall orders, perhaps he shall be more delicate...>


To: Tappee Vessels in Orbit
From: JDF Airspace Command

You have been recognized and are allowed into orbit. Thank you for your patience in this matter.



To:Valefor
From: JDF Airspace Command
Subject: IFF Codes and Parking Permissions

Vrak has confirmed your IFF codes. We appoligize for the delay caused by our communications error. Due to the heavy air traffic around Vrakprime, we ask at this time that you take a station keeping post above the large bay that Vrakprime is on. If your ship needs to land, either in water or land, please inform Vrakian officals.


<So what do you think?>
<The president will be quite happy without having a grave ship hovering over Vrakprime, near but not over.>

****

William looked up from his pillow. "You know, your the only...you have a very odd taste in subjects for pillow talk." He turned over and kissed Gabrielle on the cheek. "With your brother now being king I hope we get to spend more time together. A fourty light-year commute is hell on relationships."

Noticing that his wife seemed to be getting impatient with the change in subjects William shifted himself up. "Now then, as I know Sir Ozy was a freind of my Great-Grandfather, served as his Chancellor for a few years. There is a longer family history between the Llewellyn family back to Elizabeth the First's hiding out in the mountains of Neubayern. Which is where all of his kind are from, there is a group of valley's up in the volcanic mountains that they live. Rather closed off from the world, tend to be agriculturalists and zen philosophers. Ozy is odd in that he actually joined the navy as a youngster. But really you'll have to ask one of my aunts if you want more info on our President."

William looked at the clock on a bulkhead of their suite. "However there is enough time for me before we arrive..."

****
The crew of the New Shrion shuttle had been augmented with an extra communications officer from L.O.W. She blinked and looked down for a moment as a yelp of pleasure came through the floor from the private cabin below. "Ah yes, we will be landing in about twenty minutes sir..." she continued to the Enclave's Response Center who was tracking the two craft as they made their way to Vrakprime.

"Indeed." Napoleon said, listening intently. After the man had finished, the Emperor took a moment to take all of it in. Finally, leaning towards the man, as if to keep the conversation between the two of them, even though the Foreign Minister was plainly within earshot, "I am confident in the traditions of Vrak and in the fact that the Vrakians will choose a new monarch for themselves. What I wish to be more confident of is that this new King will continue to hold the Presidency of the Klatch like his predecessor. The Vrakian temperment, perhaps more than anyother national temperment, is suited to this job, and I am more than a little nervous at the prospect of some of the other nations within the Klatch holding this post. One thing I wish to make expressly clear is that whomever the new King will be...has a friend in the Empire"

The Emperor noted the slums as he passed by. There were places like this in the Empire, but the Capitol wasn't one of them...and there weren't THAT many of them either. Most of the slums had been torn down at the beginning of the Empire, and it had been Imperial policy to encourage other nations to follow its example. The displaced people were given a bit of help and forced to leave the self perpetuating poverty created by the slums. Forced to integrate themselves into society...or else...the situation improved vastly.

He wondered when they would arrive at the palace.

Ilek-Vaad

OOC: I’m pretty sure that I got everyone who is sending someone. If I missed you, I apologize but assume that the usual greetings have been sent. Ilek-Vaad, I hope you don’t think of it too much of a stretch that we Vrakians would know you don’t have a national anthem and would plan accordingly. After all, we’ve had fairly long relations and certainly someone in our External Affairs would know a little bit about Vaadian culture. But I can edit as always if you wish.

IC:

As the Reichskamphen aircraft was carefully guided into a nearby and quite secure hanger in the distance, the protocol officer, this one a stunning and athletically built Inuit six foot woman bowed as The Nachxa exited.

““Greetings and welcome, Nachxa of Ilek-Vaad, to the Glorious Kingdom of Vrak,” said the woman as the band played the spirited Vrakian anthem. As with the first arrivals, the 100 strong honour guard stood for inspection along with ten gigantic walruses at the end. The six foot six Inuit, complete with long hair tightly wound in a ponytail, stood two paces behind the officer.

The sleek armoured limousine waited for their guests while two IFVs, one front and one behind made up the small convoy that would take the Vaadians to the Royal Palace.





The Nachxa smiled and bowed graciously and made a brief statement, his unusually powerful voice could be easily heard over the band.

"I thank you for your more than gracious welcome. I bring with me the sincere condolences of the People of The Free Republic, we mourn with the People of The Glorious Kingdom over the loss of their King.

May he rest in peace, and may his Kingdom continue to prosper."

With that he continues on to the limosine, pausing to bow to the assembled walvraks , with his grand-dauther and bodyguard close behind.

Emilia was walking around in the big living room while trying to drink all the new exotic sights with her eyes. She looked at the big inuit who was standing by the wall. The big strong silent type eh? They reminded her a lot of the Inquisitors back home, but she suspected these were less trained in Theological matters. They looked about as friendly though. When the phone begun to ring she slowly moved over to it and answered it as the inuit gestured to her.

-"Hello?

Karmanyakan delegation, Port Olympus

"From Tanah Burung?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, I like them! We have to try and grow positive relations with the few democracies the Klatch can offer." said the Senior Key, sir Jon Pike. "What did madam Bi Bere want us?"

"She wanted to give you a ride to Vrak Prime, sir." said the assistant.

"Hmm, not a bad idea, I was just going to ask you to get airline tickets, but I guess that's not needed since she offers us space in her jet."

"Blimp. Sir." said the assistant with a strange glance at the Key.

"Come again?"

"An airship, sir. Apparently the Burungi delegation travels in a blimp called 'Old Stiffie'." The quotation marks were clearly audible.

Pike's eyes lit up and he tried not to smile.

"A blimp?! You've got to be kidding! I love blimps! I used to build miniature blimps as a kid. Did I tell you about the time wh-"

"That's very interesting sir, but I believe Minister Bi Bere is on her way. I'll send her a note to say that we'd be happy to come with her."

"A marvellous means of transportation, blimps!" burbled the Key.


A note was sent to Violeta Bi Bere, saying that Karmanyakan Senior Key sir Jon Pike and two of his assistants would be excited to accompany her to Vrak Prime.

--

Vrak Prime

The Lord Tengil and his company were soon sitting snug in the comfortable limousines heading towards the palace. The rain soon poured down onto the car's windows obscuring the view of what seemed like a lot of concrete surrounded by more concrete.

"Majestic. Grey and a bit cold, but imposing, really." said the Lord Tengil to his wife.

"I remember reading about the Dozle war and how large portions of Vrak were razed to the ground. Almost made the recent civil war we had seem civil..." said Lady Ellen with distaste.

As the palace loomed in front of them it was impossible not to be impressed by the Vrakian monarchy and its accomplishments.

If Katla was a romantic city, Vrak Prime was... well clearly not very romantic.

--

Karmanyaka

Back in Katla and the rest of Karmanyaka, there was a heated debate about the new President.

"It's an abomination unto Nuggan! A fox for president, I say!" said the Arch Zealot of the Church of Nuggan heatedly, spraying a camera lens with saliva.

"It's about time Karmanyaka had a place among the powerful. We should at least be granted the title of Chancellor or Speaker!" shouted a member of the Nangiyala Nationalist Party into a news camera.

"Sir Ozy is a good politician, perhaps he can get Klatchia together again." a woman on the street suggested.

OOC: Thanks Vrak; I just needed to know in case I needed to edit the post...

IC:
Alessandro Perez sat in the limousine. Opposite him sat a youngish-looking woman, slim, with brown hair. Sophronsa Aryet was wearing a black dress, in the style of the 1900's. Perez, on the other hand, was clad in the blood-red robes of the Cardinal, though they were mourning robes, bordered with a stripe of black, with a black armband on the left sleeve. A blood-red skull cap covered his steel-grey hair, but there was something missing.

Looking at the Cardinal one would soon pick up on the fact the he was not wearing a cross, or any sort of badge of the church; Perez had retired from active service, but, having attained the rank of Lord Cardinal, was privileged to wear the vestments (minus the cross). However he still had two of the other badges he was entitled to wear; a signet ring with the Regent's seal on it, noting the time he served as the Head of State while the King-Emperor was still a child, and the golden chains of the office of Archnoble (head of the house of lords). The final oddity was the wedding band on the third finger of his right hand; the Maciskan Orthodox Church had long since dismissed vows of celibacy as nonsense.

Those Klatchians who remembered the visit of Duke deIntan, the last high-ranking Imperial to visit the Klatch, would see an immediate contrast; deIntan had been a large, jolly man, with a boisterous sense of humour. Perez, on the other hand, was tall, gaunt, with a piercing gaze, and a hawkish face, who had his sense of humour surgically removed. Whereas deIntan had concealed what was a formidable intellect behind apparent craziness, Perez didn't bother with such a charade. These days he walked with the aid of an ebony cane, enjoying a quiet retirement. Occasionally he was called upon to perform tasks such as this, and despite his grim attitude he enjoyed them.

Currently he was staring out at the passing city, having summed it up as "Bleak. Very bleak. I like it."
Aryet was bent over one report or another, muttering to herself.

OOC: Speeding it up a bit. I think.
IC:

Past the Great Dome of Justice and along King’s Way, a main thoroughfare cutting through the centre of Vrak Prime was the Royal Palace itself. As the protocol officer was want to point out, the Dome of Justice was the remnant of an ancient fortress with its high walls and battlements. Within it was a huge 200 metre high reinforced concrete dome poking far over the wall. The walls themselves were half a kilometer long and formed a square with the dome inside. A simple yet efficient layout. But the palace was, in a word, bigger.

With walls at least two kilometers long, the gigantic dome within the compound rose 500 metres into the air. It was the largest dome save for the Royal Stadium. Like the previous one, it too was constructed of the same materials except while the Dome of Justice was more grey, this was a brilliant white.

Hardly any ornamentation though on the outside which was usual for mosr Vrakian buildings, except perhaps the Order of Bok temples. But, like the the walruses and the bulk of the humans that resided within the Kingdom, the surprises lay within.

====

A huge portcullis yawned open as the limousine entered the gates. Normally, the Open Square would be full of shouting merchants and scantily clad women but now, not a sould could be seen in its nine square kilometers. The heavy, interlocking stones lay silent as if contemplating the upcoming events with somber thought.

At the Palace itself, there was a smaller complement of honour guards to receive the dignitaries. Atop the walls themselves AA batteries could be discerned. Nearby, a huge truck which appeared to be a theatre missile defense system was standing by.

A smiling walrus stood ready to receive the arrivals. He was dressed in a glaringly gold and red vest complete with expensive looking hat. As the protocol officer would explain, it was the Royal Chamberlain.


OOC: Hastily drawn city map. Not quite to scale.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v666/KingVrak/layoutofVrakPrime2.jpg

a rider of undeath rode up
"Your king deserves respects, he will be honored in undeath" the skeleton said, before leaving as quicly as he had come.

a rider of undeath rode up
"Your king deserves respects, he will be honored in undeath" the skeleton said, before leaving as quicly as he had come.

OOC: Errr....yeah...I suppose....errrrr

To the people of Vrak,

Losing a leader is never an easy thing for a nation, much as losing a father is never easy for his family. As a father guides his children in the ways of the world, so a great leader embraces the whole of his people as his family, and seeks for them the path of greatness, that they might make their mark in the world. Your King guided his nation well, and that is to be respected. Regardless of what we thought of his decisions, making them in a world that increasingly is full of people who do everything they can to avoid them is a valuable asset.

We would like to send a representative to observe the funeral, out of respect for your King. Georgia Lancaster has requested that she be allowed to pay her respects. Barring any complications, she will be arriving shortly.

We hope that your nation can continue to grow, and that the King's successor will continue what his predecessor started.

Respectfully,
Minister Frank Pierce
Ministry of International Relations
Federation of Glorious Humanity

**********************************************************

Approaching Vrak Prime International

The official government jet was small, but well appointed, designed for carrying dignitaries, though not a lot of them. The main cabin could seat eight people, and had plush blue carpeting, several nice leather swivel chairs, a minifridge, and a television on a stand in one corner. Everything was fastened and bolted down of course, which had mightily annoyed Captain Christopher Ames. After several unsuccessful attempts to get the locked in place television to turn at an angle so he could watch it from his seat, he'd given up and was now reclining in one chair near the back of the plane, hands clasped on his chest, eyes closed as he napped.

Georgia Lancaster reclined in another seat, watching Ames with a touch of envy. She'd never been able to sleep on airplanes, no matter how tired she was. Of course, right now she was well rested, but a nap would've been something to do. There wasn't much to watch, the television got satelliete reception, but despite the hundreds of channels available for modern viewers, Lancaster couldn't find anything to hold her interest. She didn't watch much television anyway.

Lancaster was dressed in a short-sleeved jet black dress made of cotton. It was cut in her usual reserved style, only a slight dip in the front, and none in the back. Two-inch black platform shoes were on her feet, and she wore no stockings. Her blonde hair, which she normally wore in a low-maitenance ponytail, was today pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. No jewelry adorned her, not even earrings: in GH it was considered in poor taste to wear flashy things to a solemn occaision like a funeral. She was wearing only a small bit of makeup, just enough so that she met expectations of a diplomat.

Ames was wearing his dress uniform, after all he was here in his official capacity as Lancaster's personal guard. Not that anyone really expected her to have any trouble, officially GH was on perfectly good terms with the Klatch. The bodyguard was little more than a formality, and so Lancaster had requested Ames instead of a couple of randomly picked guards. They'd both been to the Klatch before, though not to Vrak, they both had friends on this side of the ocean, and they had become fairly good friends themselves during their travels together. It was a comfortable, stable arrangement, and Lancaster liked stability.

Ames' uniform was made of silk, as befitting a Captain in one of Glorious Humanity's most elite units. Short sleeved, black as all President's Guard uniforms were, with his name on the front, his rank on the collar, and his decoration ribbons on his chest, opposite his name. Lancaster didn't know what they all stood for, though she thought some were good conduct, one was for valorous service from Ames' participation in the Psi Revolt, GH's recent civil war. Black trousers, white socks, and shined black dress shoes completed the outfit. His black beret, with the insignia of his unit on it, was neatly folded in his lap, awaiting the plane's landing.

Lancaster glanced out the window. There was land on the horizon, they must be getting close. "Wake up, Chris," she said quietly. "I think we're only a few minutes out."

Ames stirred and came awake instantly. He stretched to wake up his muscles again, and sat up straighter in his chair. "Good... afternoon? Morning?"

"Afternoon," Lancaster replied with a laugh. She glanced at her wristwatch, but it was still on Glorious Human time, and she couldn't recall exactly how many hours difference there was between Dulles and Vrak Prime. She'd fix it when they landed.

"So how long we going to be on this side of the pond this time?" Ames asked, sliding into another chair so he could look out a window too.

"No idea. I don't know how long these formalities last in Vrak," Lancaster told him. So much they didn't know about the Klatch, and since Klatchians were generally closemouthed to outsiders, a lot of it had to be learned through trial and embarassing error. Nonetheless, Lancaster liked the area. Pretty, if you discounted the vicious local wildlife, both animal and occaisionally sentient. She'd heard rumblings that a permanent embassy was in the works, and she had it in her mind to get the Ambassadorship if she could. She was certainly the most senior diplomat associated with the Klatch.

"I thought you were a diplomat," Ames grinned. "Aren't diplomats supposed to know everything so they can make good backdoor deals?"

"I don't make backdoor deals," Lancaster countered. "Honest or not, my deals always come in the front door and wait for hours with the receptionist like everyone else."

Ames laughed. "Georgia, you're so unfun. Don't you ever want to be backhanded and dishonest like a real politician?"

"I'm not a politician, Chris," Lancaster smiled. "I'm a diplomat. Politicians talk, then I smooth things over with the people they offend."

"Truth," Ames agreed. He glanced out the window again. The land was definitely closer.

"Passengers, this is your captain speaking," the pilot came over the cabin intercom at that moment. "We'll be landing in a few minutes, and we're starting our initial descent. Please sit straight and fasten your seatbelts."

Lancaster's was already buckled. Ames buckled his and they fell silent, both watching out the window now as the plane headed in towards Vrak.

The Lord Cardinal's limousine pulled up; when it stopped, a minor functionary opened the door.
First to emerge were two members of the Temple Guard, the elite bodyguards of the Empire; wearing their dress blacks, with a silk armband on the left arm, they stood on either side of the door with the sort of ramrod posture normally only achieved by rigour mortis.
Next to emerge was the Lord Cardinal himself; the old man stood, then paused and turned to offer a hand to Baroness Aryet, then with her following half a step behind and to his right, stalked towards the Royal Chamberlain, his cane clicking gently against the stones. A second pair of Temple Guards had also emerged and were following the dignitaries.
Perez stopped before the Royal Chamberlain, and fixed him with a stare, before inclining his head in a salute.
One of the guards said, in a low tone, pitched to reach the Chamberlain "His Noble Eminence, the Lord Cardinal Alessandro Juan Perez, Special Emissary of His Imperial Royal Majesty, Son of the Empire. And, the Right Honourable, the Baroness Sophronsa Aryet, Rechtaire of the Imperial Government for Klatchian Relations."
"Greetings and salutations to you, Royal Chamberlain of Vrak." Perez spoke in deliberate, measured tones. "I bear the condolences of the Greater Empire, and the greetings of my Sovereign, the Cenobriach*."
Aryet stood behind him, silent.

*OOC: "Cenobriach" is another (the proper) title of the King-Emperor; Constantinus just doesn't use it.

The Nachxa got out of his limo first, with his grand-daughter close behind and the four bodyguards exiting two to each side. The Nachxa bowed courteously to the Chamberlain and smiled.

"What a fine reception, I thank you." He said as he noded and he and his party followed their hosts to their accomodations.

OOC: And I thought that the Alconians showing up with Paul was going to cause problems.


To: Vrakian Royal Family
From: Sir Ozymandias J. Llewellyn, Chairman of the Privy Council

I wish to send my condolences upon the death of the Great King. His death is both a national loss as well as a personal one for me. As such I shall be attending the funeral of the King. However, due to time contraints I will be forced not to enjoy the hospitality of the Vrakian People, but remain in constant contact with the JDF with various crises arising.

I will be arriving in a Var grav-cruiser upon the early morning hours of the funeral. As such I will also be bringing the Outer Consul with me.

With deepest sympathy
<signature> <family seal>


The Royal delegation from the United Duchies waved goodbye to Paul. Who would be dealing with the Royal Vrakian Family in his own way. Elizabeth nodded to the senior Vrakians present as both she and her father boarded the limo to the palace.

"So Liz, has Vrakprime changed much?"

"Well its a duller, grayer city right now. And of course the massive Dozle war monument wasn't so dominating of the sky line. I don't know, when I was here last the place was more on edge, but more alive, not as somber as it now is."

"Well, I just hope we can make nice with the new King of Vrak."

Elizabeth nodded, noting the Dome of Justice out from the other buildings; remembering her time there so long ago.

Please inform the Lady that we have been cleared to cross.

The captain looked at the flight plan transmitted to him from Klatch-One. Scowling, he pulled up a territorial map overlay. Well, that explains it. Apparently, the Vrakians thought best to keep us as far away as possible from these "Var" folks... Well, Guess we should appreciate the effort. Still scowling, he really didn't know any other feature, the captain ordered the new course to be set. Her lady wasn't going to like the extra legs added unto the trip, but he was sure she would appreciate the effort the Vrakians were putting in for her. And it really wasn't important how they got there, as long as they got there uneventfully and on time. The destination was an unexpected bonus. While a military base may not be as pleasing to the eyes as an international arrivals hub, it was by far more secure. Fanfare was neither expected nor desired; for all intents and purposes, this was a business trip to solidify state level relations, not Vrakian PR.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The new flight plan was uneventful, the arrival procedure was as expected; minimal fanfare included, but militarily formal, just as the Lady wished. As for the Lady, she did her part to minimize the fuss involved. The veritable army of security that normally surounded her at all times was greatly reduced. Much to the chargin of her own secrity director, who remained fretfully aboard the Valefor. Lady Jagara would be accompanied by only two - her personal maid Rose, and a looming, menacing figure of cyborg muscle, Gregor. The two of them made quite a pair, beauty and the beast as it were. Although anyone assuming that Rose was all looks would be terminally disappointed, Gregor on the other hand, was exactly as advertised.

After a the brief diplomatic formality of handshaking and kind flowery words, it was time to go. One simply didn't keep a king waiting, especially not for his send off into the next world.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

ooc: Vrak, I'll leave the trip to you; how much or little we interact is up to you (I love passing the ball into someone else's court ^_~).

and Lords, if you're gonna make an ooc gripe, I'm gonna respond oocly. What you do icly shall be dealt with as such.

Of course there had been concern, and even outright protest at her choice to attend, but she felt that anything else would be an insult, and that was the last thing she wanted. After reminding her Chancellor and others of how the Klatch delegates had shown her, and the Dominion, such honor at the coronation, and that however different in some aspects of politics and associations they were, they themselves had never offered direct threat to the Dominion, Nathicana had put her foot down, and told them to make the proper arrangements.

She also made it quite clear that there would be no further discussion on the topic, which there wasn’t – however there were any number of inexplicable delays and minor inconveniences to the point where she’d finally lost her legendary (to those who knew her) temper and threatened to fly the Loki there herself without them, and to hell with the consequences. That finally seemed to set things straight, resulting in a late, but not unforgivably so, arrival.

While still onboard, the younger of the two men took a moment to recheck his gear, and adjust his jacket, while the other casually lit up one of his ever-present clove cigarettes.

“You sure you’re doin’ the right thing, having only two of us, Nath?” he said with a sidelong glance, never removing the cigarette from his lips.

“Well, when it’s the two of you, yes,” she answered simply, taking a moment to look around, both appreciating and cursing Xeruyu for the décor. He truly had gone overboard with this one. “Besides, it would be insulting to show up with a whole brigade, armed to the teeth. Vrak is no sooner going to allow an incident on their soil than we would on ours, especially given the rather unique combination of representatives present for this, from what reports we have. I’ve spent enough time staying home and out of things. This is important, Jas. And though there may be some factions here that could be seen as unfriendly, I do not believe our hosts are among those.”

“They certainly do know how to welcome folks,” Massetti commented with his usual crooked smile, glancing out one of the port windows. “And I hear they’ve got some nice scenery to boot, if you know what I mean.”

Nathicana gave him a withering look, then sat down with a quiet sigh. “Perhaps on this trip you can work on the ‘seen but not heard’, boy? As good as you are, you never have learned what not to say, and when not to say it. I would be very put out if you managed to somehow offend.”

“Bah, he knows his work,” Jas said, handing Nathicana a glass of ice water that was just out of reach. “And if not, I can keep him in line. Don’t be worryin’ your pretty little head.”

“Old man, you’re lucky I put up with you,” she grumbled, accepting the glass with a slight scowl.

“Yeah. I love you too, Nath,” he replied with an unrepentant grin. “Just do me a favor, and don’t forget where you are, a’ight? This ain’t some NDA or Trium party, and regardless of what ya might think, you’re not exactly among friends.”

Nathicana sipped her water thoughtfully, offering a slow nod in response, then rose to her feet and smoothed her dress as she prepared leave the craft. “It will be … interesting, no doubt. Still, it was the right thing to do.”

“I hope you’re right, Nath. I really do.”

The politeness and sense of style of the Vrakians was not lost on the three Dominion folk as they disembarked, nor was the care taken to assure their safety – something the two gentlemen accompanying the Imperatrice took great interest in. Nathicana made certain that those assigned to accompany them knew how honored she was to have such a reception, though she regretted the visit had to be under such sad circumstances, passing on such condolences as was polite.

They arrived at the palace, Jas’s brows arching meaningfully at the obvious security measures, while Nathicana brushed away the unspoken concerns with a slight wave of her hand.

Yes, it promised to be an interesting trip indeed.

The Intelligence Director looked over the list of arrivals. Tanah Burung, Karmanyaka, New Shiron, Lords of War, Alcona and Hubris, Macisikan, Vegana, Reichskamphen, Ilek-Vaad, Glorious Humanity, The Dominion, Steel Butterfly, Tappee, Sketch. Hmrrumph. Did I forget anyone? No. Well, then. Time to secure the stadium and escort our dignitaries.

====

The Royal Stadium itself was a massive affair, with seating approaching nearly half a million beings. Some sections were segregated between the walrus and humans while other sections had more mixed seating. In light of this, it would be even larger than one purely made for humans.

The roof itself was open but could be covered with a tough transparent plastic sheet. The Vrakians did like to look at the weather, such as it was, to perhaps feel some sort of elemental connection. At each point of the compass, a huge claw-like talon extended from the base and arched overhead the roof. At the top of each claw was a huge brazier with flame burning upwards into the heavens. It burned clean and cast a wavy glow upon the audience. Directly below each claw was a massive screen, the kind used in sporting events. But these were off and their shape could only be discerned by the flickering flame.

The inside of the structure was dark, matching the evening sky. Only pinpricks of light could be seen, that of people finding their seats and low growling and murmuring could be discerned.

Then, in the distance, a THOOM THOOM THOOM of some great drums could be heard from outside. The sound seeped in through the stadium and the natural acoustics amplified the noise further. The crowd itself began to roar and chant while some wailed long and loud. The sound grew closer and closer until it seemed that whatever was making the sound managed to enter and the drumming began to reverberate through the entire structure. The very walls and seats began to vibrate and the noise was near deafening. The screeching, moaning, wailing, and howling of the walruses and humans grew louder and began to take on its own peculiar chant. The four flames rose higher and higher and if one looked closely, there appeared to be robed figures standing just below each brazier.

CHAUNG! CHAUNG! CHAUNG! CHAUNG! CHAUNG!

This was another drum sound, more metallic unlike the previous beats. Then, in one blazing instant, the entire stadium lights switched on, bathing the audience in a dizzying and spectacular flash. It held for a few moments and then died down to more tolerable levels. The audience suddenly stopped as if in anticipation.

In the middle of the vast stadium was a raised platform. At the very center was a dais with four huge unlit torches. At each torch stood a richly dressed walrus with head bowed to the centre. Ringing this were at least one thousand humans dressed in white robes and fully prostrate. From the north was a procession of King’s Own, numbering nearly ten thousand stood in perfect rows. Behind them was an ancient looking platform on large wooden wheels. On this were one hundred well-muscled drummers standing before a huge drum. Their arms were crossed and each one gripped thick wooden sticks tightly.

Behind this was an ornate looking bier. It was carried by twelve walruses; each dressed the same as the ones on the dais. In the bier itself was an old, fat walrus wearing expensive finery. This was the King of Vrak. Behind him were more monks and soldiers but they could only be seen standing in the entranceway.

The four monks at the dais began to chant and, softly this time, the drummers began.

====

Each delegation was safely ensconced in a roomy skybox affair, giving them a wide view of the stadium. Thick bulletproof glass shielded them along with muffling the sound, although the same protocol officer they met earlier said that there was a balcony that one could go out to “feel the experience”. One wall had a full service cook, bartender and waiters ready to serve, although at this moment they were standing erect with bowed head. However, at each door stood the same impassive Inuit bodyguard with head raised, carrying out his duty to protect the guests. A single teat ran down the normally expressionless face.

(OOC: What the Alconians got shafted and stuck in a back corner?)

The delegation from the United Duchies, the Lords of War, and New Shiron were sharing a skybox. Primarily so that the family of monarchs could meet and discuss the events as well as the possiblites of the new Presidency.

Princess Gabrielle, dressed in a conservative formal long dress (suitably in black of course), and Lord Harrington, her uncle waited for Elizabeth to speak. She after all had the most information on current issues. She also had senority as head of the family that Gabrielle now found herself part of.

Meanwhile, Colin McIntyre, 3rd Secretary of the Residence, and his partner (and former boss), Melinda Argent had the unenviable job of paying attention to the funeral itself, and recording everything on their portable equipment for future study. If nothing else, the xenoanthropologists at home would be interested.

Although Gabrielle had plans to make sure her brother, the king, watched every second. After all, he shouldn't miss the fun. It would be educational.

(OOC: Alexander would be head of the family...)

William and his two Var guards followed him in. William, was dressed in a black formal tuxedo. Which allowed him to match the formal court mourning dress of Alexander and Elizabeth.

He took up a postion on the other side of Gabrielle.

The Grand Duke of the United Duchies stood. His blue eyes twinkling at the group. He was wearing the same formal court morning dress of a black tux as William. "Ah, well we seem to be having a mini-family reunion, although I wish it were under better circumstances..."

"William my boy, How are things in the cold lands of the north..." He gave a short bow to William and then a hug.

"And of course my favoriate grandaughter-in-law..." The old monarch looked at Gabrielle. "So can I get a hug or would that be to unseemly?"

Elizabeth chuckled, "Hello Willie....Gabrielle...nice of you to join us. So how goes life in the stars?"

Elizabeth was wearing a dark blue military uniform with red stripes and a black band around her arm. The Markgravine had served in Vrak as a marine, and would say good-bye to the Vrakian King as one. In many respects she was representing the entire Alconian military.

Emilia looked at the Ceremony with a feeling of Awe. She was all alone save the inuit in her Skybox, something she blamed on her "special" Reich origin. She hoped other nations prejudice would not provide any obstacles on the reception later on. But one never knew. She took her chance however to walk out on the balcony to take in the mood and also took a chance to glance at the other skyboxes to see if the other people did the same.

She had never seen the high King and the walruses and humans chanting made her feel awed and confused. Was this some kind of heathen ritual? She had read about things like this and felt unease and excitement by watching it. She kept her posture anyway and let her eyes sweep over the great stadium.

Much to Gregor's chargin, the Lady chose to stand outside on the balcony. It wasn't so much that he actually voiced his displeasure outloud, but the fact that he maintained his self appointed post next to the inuit at the doorway with a glowering look was enough to know. Rose on the otherhand, busied herself with instructing the barman on how to prepare the perfect concoction for the lady; she did have such fickle tastes.

Lady Jagara herself stood on the balcony's edge, resting her hands on the ornate railing. From the corner of her eye she could see that other dignitaries were doing the same. But the ceremony below held her full attention now. With the open air feeling of the stadium, the flash of brilliance and the rolling thunder of the drums, it was as if a a storm was brewing. How fitting she thought, one last hurrah for the king.

The ritualistic nature of the ceremony was no suprise in of itself. Sure, it wasn't as if she had seen this particular one before, but the noble families of Sketch all had their own varied practices. The importance has always lain with the respect of the attendees. Respected in life, honored in death; such was the golden rule of civility. What one actually thought was a private matter.

The Grand Duke of the United Duchies stood. His blue eyes twinkling at the group. He was wearing the same formal court morning dress of a black tux as William. "Ah, well we seem to be having a mini-family reunion, although I wish it were under better circumstances..."

"William my boy, How are things in the cold lands of the north..." He gave a short bow to William and then a hug.

"And of course my favoriate grandaughter-in-law..." The old monarch looked at Gabrielle. "So can I get a hug or would that be to unseemly?"

Elizabeth chuckled, "Hello Willie....Gabrielle...nice of you to join us. So how goes life in the stars?"

Elizabeth was wearing a dark blue military uniform with red stripes and a black band around her arm. The Markgravine had served in Vrak as a marine, and would say good-bye to the Vrakian King as one. In many respects she was representing the entire Alconian military.

Gabrielle warmly embraced the older man (while mentally kicking herself for forgetting that indeed he was the senior member of Wills family). "Life in the stars has been very adventurous, and a great deal less complicated then life in the Klatch has been lately it would appear."

Save for the Vrakian staff and the guard, Perez and Aryet stood alone in their box. Oh, the Temple Guard were with them, but as far as company was concerned, stone pillars were better.

Aryet watched the ceremonies unfold with undisguised interest. Anthropology had been a passion of hers when she was younger, and she had relished being assigned to the Klatch with its myriad of races and cultures. Siezing her opportunity, she went out on to the balcony, flanked by two Guardsmen, and stared out over the stadium; the soft click of ebony on the floor let her know that Perez, flanked by his own guards, had followed.

She flickered her eyes around the stadium, noting other delegates walking out onto their balconies to observe the ceremonies, but also keeping an eye out for when the appropriate time was for everyone to pay their silent respects.

Next to her, the old Cardinal was radiating a distinct chill; gazing impassively down at the dais below, heaven alone knew what he was thinking.

Alexander chuckled, "Yes well that is life here in the Klatch. If it wasn't so profitable we would have likely left by now. Alexander walked over to the windows and looked down. "Well we lost the old boy...the question becomes...well we should discuss that later."

The Nachxa and his staff inhabited one of the skyboxes, much to The Nachxa's chagrin, he was always annoyed when seperated , he was always more comfortable when surrounded by people, especially new and interesting people. He reflected for a moment that societies with an overt concern for security, often had a good reason to be overtly concerned. He shrugged and immediately stepped out onto the balcony to watch the ceremony.

He looked around at the other skyboxes, and nodded politely to any others that ventured out onto the balcony. He watched the ceremony with interest, and it made him smile. He wondered if human sacrifice would be involved , he had a feeling that something along those lines might take place.

The entire scene was something so far removed from the Dominion style as to seem barbaric. And yet the intensity of the emotion involved, the sheer scope of the event and the presence of so many belied that. Ancient perhaps. Crude, not at all.

Nathicana had requested a simple pitcher of ice water and three glasses from the attendants in the room, then asked them if they would care to join her party on the balcony so that they could watch the proceedings if they chose, assuring them that the three of them would need no special attention.

She stood leaning slightly back against the doorframe, the light of the burning fires flickering over her, reflecting off the gold buttons on her tailored militaristic jacket. She of course wore the colors of her nation, black and red, though the red was reserved for just the piping and subtle accents. The cream-colored riding pants were muted somewhat by the tall black leather boots, and the light, black longcoat worn over all – the same sort that her two companions wore over their own unrelieved black ensembles, utilitarian in nature, though anything but sloppy.

Jacobian Sanguinus and Angelus Massetti kept reasonably close, one to either side of her, while offering her the space she generally demanded, the former lighting up another of his cigarettes.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to be out in the open like this, Nath,” he growled quietly, streams of smoke curling up around his scarred face.

“Shhhh, Jas,” she replied, putting a finger to her lips as she watched the goings on below, and studied the occupants of any of the boxes she could see, if any in the darkness. Her other hand idly toyed with the long single braid she’d pulled her dark hair back in. “I’m listening.” Which she was, trying to pick up any hints of errant conversation she could with augmented ears, as was her habit.

At the sound of the drums, she gave up even trying, muting the sounds somewhat against the din, while her companions tensed, looking for any signs of trouble. She instinctively shielded her eyes against the sudden introduction of light, both men moving quickly to take a more protective stance, their own eyes protected by the dark glasses they wore that were thankfully more than simple shades.

Jas muttered imprecations, and Mas himself lacking his usual jovial smile as their eyes darted about, such an event having been a perfect opportunity for trouble. Nathicana knew they were simply doing their job, and waited quietly for them to assure themselves that all was well, simply peering around them til they stepped aside and went back to their previous watchful positions.

As the body was brought in, Nathicana took a moment to bow her head in respect for the fallen, then watched the procession as it continued.

And who will rise to take his place, I wonder? And will they be of a mind to further ties and interests, or take a more aggressive stance? This region has always been one of upheaval – certainly not one where the weak could rule. I’ve heard successions here can be … interesting. I wonder if it’s true.

Stepping out from her skybox, Violeta Bi Bere dropped her cane. She spread her arms wide, felt the roar of the crowd as if it were a solid object, and lay back onto the cushion of sound. She let the noise buoy her up, holding her weightless, swaying slightly. It felt better than surfing -- as if she was dancing on a wind.

Looking arouind, she saw the other dignitaries emerge from their own boxes. She giggled and blew a kiss to the Nachxa.

The Nachxa continued to watch intently. He caught sight of Violeta Bi Bere and smiled and bowed his head as she blew a kiss in his direction.

He stood silently, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the unfolding ceremony intently.

Lancaster had, of course, moved out onto her balcony almost as soon as she and Ames were shown to their place. She had no need of refreshment, and would not partake of anything until after the conclusion of the ceremony. Another Glorious Human custom, you didn't eat before a funeral. Well, technically the formal rule was, you didn't eat before the grieving family chose to eat, but since many mourners often neglected sustenance for a long time as they worked their way through their grief, it had become polite to observe the ritual fast only until after the funeral. It didn't do at all for funeral guests to pass out from hunger around midafternoon. In Glorious Humanity, funerals had used to have been followed by solemn meals, which was probably where the rule had come from. Nowadays it was more like a quick brunch, if there was a formal meal at all. Lancaster idly wondered if there would be something like that after this ceremony.

Ames stood one step behind and slightly to the right of Lancaster, the traditional military position of respect for a superior. He stood at attention, his back ramrod straight, his eyes on the proceedings. He was currently trying to work out if it would be appropriate to salute. In Glorious Humanity, when the funeral procession came out, all soldiers in attendance were supposed to salute the deceased. But this ceremony was so far removed from what he knew at home that he had no idea what was appropriate or not. And asking Lancaster wouldn't help; Ames knew she didn't know.

The start of the ceremony blasted them both with an explosion of sound, and Lancaster found the combination of drums, chanting, and wailing almost hypnotic in its intensity. She glanced around the stadium to take in other dignitaries' reactions, and politely returned the Vaadian Nachxa's nod. Then as the dead King was brought out, she returned her attention down to the spectacle below. Behind her, Ames saluted as the bier emerged, deciding to follow the protocol he'd been taught.

OOC: Sorry, I've been away. But am back now.

OOC: Goodness, don't worry about that. No need to apologize.

IC:

The ten thousand King’s Own divided into two columns and marched around the entire inside perimeter of the huge field, effectively forming a barrier between the ceremony and the audience. As the drummers began churning out a low but steady beat, the four walruses by the torches began to chant, their song carrying upwards into the night.

The bearers of the King drew closer and, with no small amount of effort, began to ascend the stage. For them there was a gradual slope on which they could gain a semblance of traction as well as keep their precious load level.

Behind, the platform carrying the drummers rolled to a stop near the center platform. But behind them was a more awesome sight.

On various flatbeds pulled by massive trucks were various pieces of machinery, wrecked and discarded parts of robots, some artillery and tank pieces, and even complete albeit wrecked jet fighters. Mounted on pikes were the heads of a particular looking robot that certainly the Klatchians would be familiar with – the heads of the infamous SOAT-bots. As well, the fighter jets were none other ones belonging to Neo Tyr while some of the machinery and other equipment resembled war booty scavenged from the Dozle war. Clearly, it was intended to demonstrate the victorious war record of Vrak under the wise stewardship of the King.

At a certain bong from the drums, the audience opposite the visiting dignitaries rose up and held out placards. Each one was designed to fit together to form a giant picture and at certain intervals, would change to form a new picture. The pictures themselves depicted scenes of the King’s life, the highlights of the nation – especially the wars fought (it seemed a fair bit of attention was concentrated on Dozle), and other such noteworthy events. Some, to the more astute, would be clearly propaganda with the express purpose of instilling pride in the nation itself and its ideals. Here there would be images of walrus and human working together as one in defeating what appeared to be polar bears and orcas. One particular gruesome picture showed a Menelmacari gravship in flames plummeting to earth.

All these pictures were showcased as the soldiers marched around the field. Once they reached their designated position, the placards froze and the drummers abruptly stopped. By this time, the bier was laid down on the dias and the twelve walruses joined the first four, forming a circle around the dias.

A full minute passed before a single drum began to play. One of the sixteen walruses rose and made his way to a microphone. In a deep, rumbling voice he began to speak in Vrakian.

He began to speak of the life of the King. His childhood, his rise on becoming the king and his subsequent many years of rule. Particular emphasis was placed on his love for the Vrakian people and his selfless sacrifice for their welfare. The placards came down and some wailing could be heard but most were standing in solemn silence. At the very end, an exhortation was made to the people to remember the king and his love for the people, the nation, and the what it stands for.

Then, the single drummer stop and suddenly, from atop where the massive braziers were still burning, a single, loud and long trumpet blast boomed through the stadium. The walrus then barked into the microphone three words three times

Kar Uy Rekuytur!
Kar Uy Rekuytur!
Kar Uy Rekuytur!

From where the rest of the procession had come, now a new and strange sight came. Richly dressed walruses, yet unlike the 16 previous and unlike each other were being pulled on a rickshaw type of contraption to the center. Before each walrus was a human bearing a flag on a standard. Those familiar with the various Vrakian companies would see that the symbols on the flags were actually company logos. That is, each walrus was a representative of each company and, in this capacity, representing their Great House. Interestingly, only one human was being led out on a rickshaw.

These individuals pulled up to one side of the stage and got out, forming a line between the dias and the edge of the platform. They looked at the walrus that previously repeated the three words with anticipation while the walrus gave them each a fixed stare before continuing.

The other fifteen walruses then began to chant while a fairly tall Inuit came forward, clad only in bearskins and bearing a torch. Gracefully, he lit the other four torches and then set his torch down beside the King.

A huge wailing rose from the audience and then the drummers once again to pound furiously. At this juncture, the recently arrived walruses and one human began to chant with the monks while the pyre began to burn higher. Soon, the monks moved a bit further away from the pyre itself but still continued to chant. The trumpets then joined in with the drums and wailing and the drummers on the platform were now being pulled around the perimeter. The noise level began to increase.

At each skybox, a soft knock led to a brief exchange in Vrakian. The Inuit bodyguard opened the door cautiously and, then with some relief, let the protocol officer that each party was assigned to. With a gracious bow, the officer merely said,

“The ceremony is now over. In a few hours, the King will be flown to the Far Northern Territories for his final burial. For now, you may come and visit with the other dignitaries in the meeting chamber in the stadium. Arrangements can be made to go back to the Royal Palace if you wish.”

====

The Meeting Chamber was hardly as opulent as the Royal Palace but still luxurious and somewhat large. Huge paintings depicting various sporting events held in the stadium were seen, some quite unsettling. Along one wall were large, thick windows overlooking the Open Square but there wouldn’t be much to see due to the lateness of the hour. As well, the windows themselves were closed.

There was a huge buffet table alongside one wall with informal seating throughout the room. It resembled more of a lounge rather than a stately gathering. Opposite the buffet table was a large portrait of the King with black ribbons wound around the corners with the rest allowed to fall down. A single small brazier burned in the corner, giving off thick smoke but this was vented away.

A detachment of King’s Own in jet black uniforms with headgear completely disguising their features stood at the wall opposite the windows. Evenly spaced throughout the room were 30 SOAT-bots at attention. Awalrus that would identify himself as Kir Opru – Chief Cultural Minister, waited patiently for any dignitaries to arrive. Beside him was Luk Trom, Monk of the Order of Bok.

The Alconian Royal Party, along with the New Shiron and LOW delegation arrived as one huge family pack. Alexander was leading the way with Elizabeth at his right, his grandson, grandaughter and her uncle all followed behind. The various guards had sorted themselves out into a reasonable sense of order.

Alexander gave a short head bow to the Cultural Minister. He began to speak in his accented Vrakian

-Ah Minister, the ceremony was quite a display of Vrakian pagentry. I was perhaps a bit miffed at the lack of any mention of the fight against that horrid sea beast. The one that took my brother so early from us. But perhaps the Dozle war was more appropriate tribute to the King who led us through that difficult time.

The Dominion party continued to watch the proceedings in relative silence, keeping their commentary and observations politely hushed between the three of them, regardless that this ceremony were far from quiet. When the image of the Menelmacari ship came up, Nathicana's brows arched up in surprise, and she put a hand to her mouth, effectively covering the wry grin that came to her lips at the unexpected imagery.

“Now that is something you do not see every day,” she said in her native tongue, stifling a chuckle. A wholly inappropriate reaction, she knew, but it had taken her off-guard … and she had always had a rather dark sense of humor.

“Careful, Nath,” Jas replied dryly. “Your smirk is showing.”

She waved it off with a vexed noise, the moment quickly passed. “Just … not what I expected at a funeral." Or near anywhere else for that matter.

"Damn, but I wish I’d gotten a language chip. I know better than to ask either one of you for a translation.”

When the protocol officer arrived, the party gathered their things, what little there were, politely thanked those who had staffed the box, and accompanied the officer to the Chamber.

Here we go …

The two men kept themselves close enough for comfort without crowding the diminutive woman who walked with quiet confidence, in spite of her growing misgivings. Any paintings that made her twitch, she tactfully avoided looking at if she could, noting again that she was certainly not in the Dominion, or any familiar allied nation, anymore. What gave her more pause were the mechanoids, knowing all too well such things capabilities, albeit in reference to more familiar sorts. These however, were not what she would term ‘friendly’, all things considered. Still, did it not make sense to have security present at such a high-profile event?

After a moment getting their bearings and observing those already present, she asked their protocol officer to please point out the presiding dignitaries so that they might present their condolences, then politely waited a short ways off from the Alconian group for a more appropriate time for introductions.

The Nachxa smiled as the ceremony ende and the liason invited him and his party back to the reception area. He smiled agin as he entered and saw the gathering dignataries standing off from each other , as normally done until someone breaks the ice.

He immediately goes up the Chief Cultural Minister and the Monk of Bok.

"I thank you for your hospitality, and once again offer my and my People's sincerest condolences for the loss of your most esteemed and honouarble King. Truly it is not only The Glorious Kingdom's loss, but the Klatch and the World's loss as well." He said it with humility and a slight bow as appropriate.

His grand-daughter and body-guard bowed politely as well. The Nachxa then goes up to the delegations and immediately introduces himself to each and every person present. He wades right into the Alconian/LOW/New Shiron block and presents himself and bows , explaining how pleased he is to meet each and everyone of them, and then over to the Dread Lady's party, introducing himself.

His pleasant and warm charm is almost infectious, and seems at stark contrast with the usual manner in which Vaadians present themselves when meeting foreigners. In fact his own party take the standoffish stance that most Vaadians take, leaving The Nachxa to mingle, under their watchful eye.

Upon learning of the press releases, (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10384772&postcount=206) the VIS and Vrak Military High command sprung open a special contingency plan just for this very purpose. The extreme long range surface-to-orbit gun batteries were quietly activated. Of course, they would still remain in their secure bunkers and there weren’t all that many of them. But certainly more than zero which was what Vrak had during Dolze.

====

Kir Opru bowed to Alexander and replied.

-Ah yes. Well, of course this was to recognize the King but certainly no disrespect intended towards your brother.

The conversation continued with Kir mostly politely listenig. As the Vaadians introduced themselves, he bowed and made the usual obligatory polite noises, saying that he was glad to see them attend. He would, of course, carefully skirt any contentious political issues but happily answered any questions about the ceremony itself and the life of the King.

In the chambers, a smartly dressed King’s Own entered. He quietly but smoothly made his way to Kir and whispered quickly into his ear. The walrus merely grunted and dismissed the special op soldier with a wave. He frowned momentarily but his expression would be inscrutable to those not used to the walruses. He then cleared his throat and announced in a booming voice.

“I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you in attending the funeral of our beloved King. Please, feel free to mingle and I am happy to answer any questions that you may have individually. I hope to meet each and everyone of you individually shortly.”

The accompanying Inuit bodyguard with each delegation then spread themselves out to each door and stood at attention. The protocol officers, meanwhile stuck close to their charges.

Well this is certainly … unexpected.

Nathicana had watched The Nachxa make his entrance and just short of whirlwind series of introductions and greetings with interest. After all, thus far the Dominion experience with the Fours had left much to be desired. The fact that he differed greatly from what little they had been shown of Vaadian bearing did nothing to relax her. It made her more alert, and more keen to observe details. There had to be reason after all, and putting those around you off-guard, or lulling them into a false sense of security could be an effective method.

Even as she smiles and returns the greeting, her eyes flicker towards the rest of his party, trying to catch glimpses of their reactions if any, when appropriate.

“Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion,” she replies, her own smile warm and friendly, offering her hand by way of greeting, while her two guards watch attentively. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure before now.”

She nods briefly as the announcement is made, wondering idly just how much ‘mingling’ will be appropriate here, all things considered.

The Nachxa raises an eyebrow as The Dread Lady introduces herself. His expression barely changes, still with the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his eyes totally impossible to read, much less see behind his completely opaque sunglasses, the elderly gray haired gentleman takes the proffered hand and bows with sublime grace, kissing it lightly.

He then grins openly "The Dread Lady herself? A most distinct pleasure. I would not have guessed it, you don't have claws and fangs or lasers shooting from your eyes as detailed in the popular accounts!"

He starightens up and smiles " I am Tlatloni Nachxa-Itihicoatl, Special Envoy of The Republican Council, but you may call me The Nachxa or Nachxa, or whatever. It is a shame that such sad circumstances are the occasion of our meeting, yet it is still an honour to make your acquaintance."

Alexander nodded,
-No offense was taken, but it seems that the other guests would like to have a word with you. That and I am particularly intrested in the Nachxa and Dread Lady discussing things.

The Alconian/LOW/New Shiron delegation, (which shall be refered to as the party of Princes to avoid any future problems) bowed to Kir Opru and moved towards the food. More to be politely out of the way then anything else.

Alexander however moved off from the group and towards the Dread Lady and the Naxcha, with his personal guard in tow. He had a message to deliver to the Naxcha and well, the United Duchies had a very odd relationship with the Dominion at the moment, and perhaps a little monarch to monarch discussion would normalize relations.

The Nachxa pauses as the Grand Duke arrives and greets him politely.

"Ah, Grand Duke Alexander I believe? I am Tlatloni Nachxa-Itihicoatl, Special Envoy of The Republican Council, but feel free to call me The Nachxa, or Nachxa, whichever I'm not particular. I am most pleased to met you, your Highness."

He makes the introduction with a formal bow and a smile before turning back to The Dread Lady "And of course this enchanting young Lady is Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion, of course!" he says with a bow towards the Dread Lady.

The Nachxa, sensing the stiffness in the room and of course the large number of gaurds and bodyguards, has decided to take it upon himself to get everyone aquainted, he especially keeps an eye out for Violeta Bi Bere from Tanah Burung.


OOC: Odd relationship? Hmmmmmmmmm.

Violeta was dying to slip off her top, but she knew all too well the nudity taboos of so many cultures. She contented herself with a discreet waving of her palm-frond fan to cool herself off. Seeing the mighty engaged in knots of conversation, she hung back, examining her walking stick, until the right moment, confining herself to nods and smiles at the Klatchian and Vaadian delegations in the room.

As soon as The Nachxa noticed Violeta Bi Bere, he nodded to her and introduced her to both the Grand Duke and the Dread Lady.

"This young lady is of course Violeta Bi Bere, We were on the International Mediation Council together. Violeta this is Grand Duke Alexander of the United Duchies and this is Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion."

He bowed and kissed Bi Bere's hand and smiled pleasantly. "It has been too long. I thought that you were considering giving up international travel and were going to spend more time at home? I know I tried that but I was elected Special Envoy again, even asking that I not be considered for the post didn't help!"

The Nachxa pauses as the Grand Duke arrives and greets him politely.

"Ah, Grand Duke Alexander I believe? I am Tlatloni Nachxa-Itihicoatl, Special Envoy of The Republican Council, but feel free to call me The Nachxa, or Nachxa, whichever I'm not particular. I am most pleased to met you, your Highness."


Alexander gives a short bow towards the Nachxa, "Quite, we have heard so much about you from Sir Ozy, I am quite charmed to make your acquainance"


"And of course this enchanting young Lady is Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion, of course!"

Alexander again gave a head bow, a touch deeper, to the Imperatrice. "It is so nice to finally meet such a distinquished, and attractive woman as yourself Imperatrice. Although we wish it were under happier circumstances than the loss of our freind and ally. Unfortunatly it seems tragedy tends to allow us to break our habits and our leashes more than celebrations." He smiled wryly at both of Nachxa and Nathi for a moment.

Kir watched the Nachxa kiss Violeta's hand and chuckled to himself. He didn't want to move just yet to mingle himself but made a note of whom he was going to speak to individually when the opportunity presented itself. For now, he merely waited to greet more dignitaries. He wasn't sure yet if all of them would be coming to the chamber for an informal "meet and greet". So far, he didn't receive anything yet but since each bodyguard was required to inform him via earmic, he didn't worry. The VIS, and more specifically the bodyguard unit, were quite capable.

Meanwhile, the walrus monk from the Order of Bok ambled over to the nearest delegate that was more of the overtly religious persuasion.

Perez might have well have been carved from stone for all the reaction he displayed to the ceremony; beyond bowing his head at what seemed the appropriate time, he didn't even twitch. Aryet had observed the proceedings with eager interest, but had curbed it when her superior bowed his head, not wishing to seem disrespectful.

When the ceremony ended, the two seemed pleased in some way to accept the invitation to adjourn to the reception area.

When the Nachxa had introduced himself, the pair had smiled politely, if stiffly, and introduced themselves in return, saying nothing beyond a polite greeting and their names and titles; even as the Nachxa turned to the next group one of the Temple Guard touched Aryet on the shoulder and whispered something into her ear that made her face and eyes go blank. She whispered something back, and the man withdrew, leaving her staring off into the distance.

Perez flickered his glance around the room constantly, but not a fold of his blood-red robes stirred, at least until the Monk of Bok approached; the old man's eyes flickered over the walrus with vague interest.
"Greetings," was all he said.

Macisikan

The monk was dressed in a simple grey robe that oddly resembled more like a blanket or cloak due to the walrus physiology. Around his neck he wore a leather stringed necklace with a single clamshell resting on his massive neck. He would have preferred to have been out in the crowd wailing with the rest of his kin but here he was. Still, a part of him was excited at meeting all the foreigners that arrived for he was, in many respects, a simple but honest monk in the Order of Bok.

He inclined his head respectfully towards Perez.

“Welcome to Vrak, Lord Cardinal. We are glad to see our friends come to our lands to honour the name and memory of our late King. Truly a sad day. So very sad.”

He bowed his head even lower and his jowls quivered slightly.


OOC: My apologies. I forgot to mention that there would be an empath quietly monitoring the events in the Chamber. This individual would be hidden from view and would strive to maintain a low profile but could be detected by those skilled in these arts. Most, this person is on the lookout for those of similar talent and would not be probing people's minds. So, feel free to incorporate this into your story.

Lady Jagara watched the procession of victory and listened to the tale of the dead in placid silence. Whether there was any truth to the ceremony, or falsehood in its entirity, did not matter. She was not here to judge. In truth, this show was as more for the people then for anyone else. History was always subject to points of view and tended to favor those who took the time to write it.

What did catch Her interest was the display of the great houses of Vrak, and particularily, the lone human. To break into the upper strata is a feat near impossible by those not born into it. And for an outsider to accomplish such an acheivement meant that they were most noteworthy. Lady Jagara made a mental note to find out more of this human.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even by the time Lady Jagara had made her way to the meeting chamber, there were still only a few dignitaries milling about, making small talk. She noticed a small crowd beginning to form around the dread lady. Poor Nathicana, she thought to herself, looks like she'll have her hands full all night. With that person of interest currently inaccessible, Lady Jagara scanned the room for familiar faces, of which she saw none. Apparently none ,of Sketch's other allies have showed up yet; other than the Vrakian officials doomed to loiter about and provide entertainment; among which the friendliness factor was rather up in the air, given the rather touchy situations the Order has been entagled in as of late.

With an almost shrug, Lady Jagara headed towards the buffet table. Not to stuff her face as it were, but you could always conviently bump into someone while lurking around the hors d'oeuvres. And, it would be interesting to see what was aceptable by Vrakian standards to serve up after a funeral, given their tastes in decor.

Turning her head slightly, Jagara adressed her protectors. Rose, why don't you go fetch me a drink from the bar, you know what I like. And Gregor, try to make yourself less menacing over by the doorway there. This elicited a deepening frown on an already stern face. Now now, I'm sure all the Vrakians have security plenty under control. No need for you to worry, I can take plenty good care of myself. Now go. With a casual wave of her hand, she dismissed them both. With that, the two of them went about their newly assigned tasks, Gregor now the grumpy doorman, and Rose, the drink fetcher, whose path that just happened to circulate through the entire room, passing quite near some of the conversations going on.

On her way over, Lady Jagara took in the dress of the various dignitaries. It was no idle contemplation of the latest fashion trends, but rather a general read of attitude and purpose. Lady Nathicana for example had a severly cut military attire - no nonsense and all business there. A few others also chose to arrive in similar dress. Some of the dignitaries, mostly the other ladies chose a more relaxed presentation. Jagara cooly watched Tanah Burung's own mistress Violeta busily fan herself with what could almost be read as constrained frustration in fan language. For her own personal attire, she choose a modernized, almost risque, very form fitting full length qipao. A satin black with gold pattern trim, it had a rising pheonix embossed across the back, the slits in the side were just barely within most acceptable standards of modesty; still less than she liked. Lady Jagara also happened to carry her own fan, which she kept discretely in her hand along her side. Although certainly useful as either a communication tool or to cool one's self, as Violete had done, the fan had its own distinct purpose. Namely, it was the reason why her own security was willing to let her have her way. Fan fighting was a delicate art, but it offered an easily concealed tool for defense in an otherwise highly restricted environment.

Ah, sweets, I think I'll try one.

William left Gabrielle and Elizabeth talking in that general chit chat that occurs between two women of similar persuassion. The fact was that the two were both high born tomboys who had served in the military, and tended to have a good deal in common. Gabrielle fit in quite well with the rest of the extended family.

William, like is grandfather, was dressed in the dark pants, double breasted tailcoat with a white silk shirt and black tie that marked Alconian court mourning dress. Alexander's was enlivened with a dark red sash across the front. It was slightly severe and miltaristic, natural for a people who had spent two centuries in on and off again combat with their northern neighbors.

Of course William looked like one of Alexander's children, not the Overlord of the Interplantary Confederacy. Although the luminescent blue eyes and the eight foot tall cloaked guard following in his wake argued against being simply one of Alexander's brood.

William stopped and looked at the various forms of food along the table, pondering what he should try right at the moment. He turned to look over at the Naxcha for a moment. "Hmm, quite the social butterfly..." he commented dryly.

As the Nachxa introduced her, Violeta Bi Bere bowed low to the crowned heads. "An honour to meet you both. A true honour," she said before turning back to address the legendary Vaadian diplomat.

In a country where age was greatly honoured, it was not an honour to be addressed as "young lady." Certainly not when you had served your country with distinction for decades. And Violeta was quite sure that with his wide knowledge of international affairs, the Nachxa was well aware of that. So his comment must have been designed to elicit a chuckle and some informality. Well and good.

Violeta's 98-year-old skin wrinkled as she laughed. "It's pleasant to see you again, young fellow," she said with a grin. "My duties find me in Port Olympus, more often than not. I'm sure you find the city to your liking too, it is never dull in the capital."

“I never have paid much mind to what passes for ‘popular opinion’.” Nathi replies, accepting the greeting with a smile, then winking slyly. “Still, even the most delicate rose has its thorns, no? And please, simply Nathicana will do. While they have a purpose, all those titles can be cumbersome things in social settings.” Of course she had used them for a reason initially, but still.

When the Grand Duke and Violeta approach, and The Nachxa makes their introductions, Nathicana greets one, then the other with an appropriate bow and offered hand, indicating with a very subtle signal for the two men accompanying her to give her ample space. “I regret that such a sad occasion as this offers us the chance for meeting as well, though that does seem to be the way of things,” she says in response to Alexander’s words.

“It is a decided pleasure, nonetheless, to meet you all. I hope that those from your fine nation that I have met before, Landgrave Wittlebach & the young Lord Windmere are still well? If I might take the opportunity to thank you as well for the beautiful gifts they presented on behalf of your nation – the replica of Il Cavollo has its case within the entryway of the Gianfigliazi building, our state offices. And the clock I have displayed proudly in my office there. Extraordinary gifts, both.” Again, a polite bow, this one of thanks to Alexander, before turning her attentions to Violetta.

“Though I believe I have had the honor of working with the good Lady Bi Bere what seems ages ago, in Lavenrunz? A well-meaning but ill-fated venture as it turns out, but not without its merits. I hope that the situation within your nation has improved somewhat? I’m afraid that duties have prevented me from keeping as current as I would like.”

She did not forget The Nachxa, keeping her position relative to him and the others so that she never quite turned away from any of them as was polite. Though for now, having less pleasant recountings second-hand of meetings with Vaadians, she thought it appropriate to focus on those she was more familiar, and had some point of positive reference to begin with. She hoped there would be time enough to get to know all of them a bit better. Friend, foe, or unknown, it was important to understand both.

“It is a decided pleasure, nonetheless, to meet you all. I hope that those from your fine nation that I have met before, Landgrave Wittlebach & the young Lord Windmere are still well? If I might take the opportunity to thank you as well for the beautiful gifts they presented on behalf of your nation – the replica of Il Cavollo has its case within the entryway of the Gianfigliazi building, our state offices. And the clock I have displayed proudly in my office there. Extraordinary gifts, both.” Again, a polite bow, this one of thanks to Alexander, before turning her attentions to Violetta.


"Our daughter and the Assistant Secretary for Trade to Tanah Burung are quite well, thank you for asking. And we am glad that our gifts have been so highly appreciated."

Alexander smiled slightly as Nathicana discreately inquired about Tanah Burung. The United Duchies had literally forced a peace process between the Knootians and the Burungi. Using a mixture of threats, half-truths, and plain audacity, the Royal Envoy had somehow actually gotten a peace process to start.

Alexander himself had overseen a good number of the trials of those accused of being part of the Rumbiak Brigade by Knootoss.

Alexander also stole a glance at the Vaadian delegation. Their bluster and threats with the Knootians had done little to actually solve the Knootian-Burungi problem.
Tact and the proper use of Machivelli will always get you more than acting like the world should be a copy of Vaadian writ large.

Not a flicker of emotion was visible on Violeta's face at the Dread Lady's question. She had her own opinions on who was to blame for recent events: a bumbling performance by the man who had succeeded her as Burungi foreign minister, a Knootian invasion, a Vaadian naval thrust followed by their abrupt withdrawal, guerrilla war accompanied by a peace agreement reached in Pantocratoria and then denounced by the Knootians, and finally the Alconan intervention prompted by the discovery of a Crawford presence in Tanah Burung. And now, independence restored as a Klatchian state, and trade with all other states, except of course for the recent invaders.

But she would keep her opinions to herself. There were too many people within arm's reach whose opinions might be different. "Indeed, the mediation council was a fine idea," she said, "although sadly inadequate to dealing with the challenges of uncooperative signatories. However after a spot of unpleasantness I am pleased to say that all is well and my country is happily united with our neighbours in the Klatch. Sad as this occasion is, I hope it will increase harmony in the region, as we come together to pay tribute to a fine King."

The mention of "harmony" was patently absurd, given recent tensions, as anything other than a pious wish. But sometimes stating wishes had its value, too.

William left Gabrielle and Elizabeth talking in that general chit chat that occurs between two women of similar persuassion. The fact was that the two were both high born tomboys who had served in the military, and tended to have a good deal in common. Gabrielle fit in quite well with the rest of the extended family.

Lady Tanya Jones, an aide from the New Shiron Residence, walked purposefully toward Princess Gabrielle, who noticed her and motioned her over. Tanya, a short brunette dressed in a conservative business attire to hide her tendancy toward being heavy in the hips, whispered in the ear of the Princess.
"Your highness, the test results have come back. You are indeed expecting."

A bright smile light up Gabrielle's face. Now wasn't the time, but she looked forward to telling her husband and the family later. The Crawfords and New Shiron as well were about to have an heir. It wasn't as important to New Shiron, as her brothers wife was already due in a few weeks according to last reports but she was sure the Lords of War would be pleased.

Lady Tanya Jones, an aide from the New Shiron Residence, walked purposefully toward Princess Gabrielle, who noticed her and motioned her over. Tanya, a short brunette dressed in a conservative business attire to hide her tendancy toward being heavy in the hips, whispered in the ear of the Princess.
"Your highness, the test results have come back. You are indeed expecting."

A bright smile light up Gabrielle's face. Now wasn't the time, but she looked forward to telling her husband and the family later. The Wittons and New Shiron as well were about to have an heir. It wasn't as important to New Shiron, as her brothers wife was already due in a few weeks according to last reports but she was sure the Lords of War would be pleased.

(OOC: Royal Family is Crawford, Anne Winton is the United Duchies Royal Envoy! And I hope she isn't expecting)

(OOC: Royal Family is Crawford, Anne Winton is the United Duchies Royal Envoy! And I hope she isn't expecting)

ooc
oops, fixed..

That would definitely give that empath something to think about though

There would be one Crawford unhappy with the news, Elizabeth herself. The younger daughter of Alexander seemed to becoming a spinster.
"Alright what was that all about? Uou seem to have some secret your not telling..." The uniformed Marine stated in mock sarcasm.

Macisikan

The monk was dressed in a simple grey robe that oddly resembled more like a blanket or cloak due to the walrus physiology. Around his neck he wore a leather stringed necklace with a single clamshell resting on his massive neck. He would have preferred to have been out in the crowd wailing with the rest of his kin but here he was. Still, a part of him was excited at meeting all the foreigners that arrived for he was, in many respects, a simple but honest monk in the Order of Bok.

He inclined his head respectfully towards Perez.

“Welcome to Vrak, Lord Cardinal. We are glad to see our friends come to our lands to honour the name and memory of our late King. Truly a sad day. So very sad.”

He bowed his head even lower and his jowls quivered slightly.


The old man returned the walrus' head-bow as he turned to face the other.
"Thank you. We of the United Imperial Kingdoms are honoured that Vrak considers us a friend," he paused, as if considering his next words. "I was never privileged enough to meet His late Majesty in life, but from what I understand his spirit was strong indeed. I have no doubt..." his voice trailed off as if he was considering something that hadn't occurred to him before.
"Forgive my irreverence, but comparative religions was never my strong suit; do the followers of Bok believe in Heaven? I do not wish to presume." His tone was respectful yet interested.

Perez had picked up on the empath; the Church tended to attract people with psionic abilities, and the old Cardinal was one of their more accomplished members.

Aryet was drifting towards the bar, affecting a sombre, yet slightly bored, expression.

There would be one Crawford unhappy with the news, Elizabeth herself. The younger daughter of Alexander seemed to becoming a spinster.
"Alright what was that all about? Uou seem to have some secret your not telling..." The uniformed Marine stated in mock sarcasm.

Gabrielle grinned a bit, "Just some good news for my husband. Which reminds me, where did he run off to?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "You mean Mister has a metabolism running on high all the time? Munching on some type of cake near that rather oddly dressed woman with the fan. Why is it that half the world leaders who are female dress like...well that's not polite..."

Elizabeth shook her head, "My nephew is up to something. Of course we Crawfords always are." She sighed, "Really I wonder what father is up to...wait that is the Dread Lady herself..."

She laughed, "I think you've been in the Naval Marshal's Office in Fleet Manor in Thunderbay haven't you? Well there is a rather ornate document safe in his office. The twin to it she supposedly uses to lock up her unmentionables."

"Men run away from me like the plauge, but at least I don't have to lock my panties in a safe." Elizabeth was one of those women who was too atractive for her own good. She seemed to attract the type of man who was intrested in having a ornimental type of girl. Unfortunatly Elizabeth was as far from that kind of woman you could find.

The resulting dating disasters had become legendary. One foreign head of state had actually tried to have a special-ops team raid the restraunt to rescue him

The Nachxa smiled warmly as more people joined in and smiled at The Dread Lady, and the Grand Duke's comments and then responded to Violeta, patting her hand warmly. "Port Olympus is indeed exciting, all though if I ever return is still very much up in the air, if I do return I'm certain that my assistant Jonathon will want to learn how to catch missiles, to avoid another hospital stay."

He nodded as Violeta and Nathicana mentioned the IMC "International treaties are only useful if the nations that sign them are interested in upholding them. I have always wondered why nations send delegates to debate and sign documents that they have no intentions of upholding or honouring?" he shrugs "People who are concerned with appearences are very good at appearing concerned."

She was late, and she knew it. She had spent a little extra time to make sure she looked absolutely dazzling in her black dress and black Mirkai feather hat. She also knew that by arriving last she might be able to get some extra attention, and that was something she knew a Veganian envoy needed badly. Emilia was acutely aware of The Reich bad reputation and this was a chance to tie some new contacts and maybe strengthen a few alliances.

Emilia strode in with carefully staged self confidence when her name was announced. She smiled at the people and tried to remember them from the cards she had been studying prior to this occasion. Some very important people here, shows that walrus influence or maybe the Klaatchian influence? All alone, without any body guards she received a drink by one of the manservants and started to mingle.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "You mean Mister has a metabolism running on high all the time? Munching on some type of cake near that rather oddly dressed woman with the fan. Why is it that half the world leaders who are female dress like...well that's not polite..."

Elizabeth shook her head, "My nephew is up to something. Of course we Crawfords always are." She sighed, "Really I wonder what father is up to...wait that is the Dread Lady herself..."

She laughed, "I think you've been in the Naval Marshal's Office in Fleet Manor in Thunderbay haven't you? Well there is a rather ornate document safe in his office. The twin to it she supposedly uses to lock up her unmentionables."

"Men run away from me like the plauge, but at least I don't have to lock my panties in a safe." Elizabeth was one of those women who was too atractive for her own good. She seemed to attract the type of man who was intrested in having a ornimental type of girl. Unfortunatly Elizabeth was as far from that kind of woman you could find.

The resulting dating disasters had become legendary. One foreign head of state had actually tried to have a special-ops team raid the restraunt to rescue him

Gabrielle smirked a bit concerning her husband and the Dread Lady and her rags by Gucci. It also occured to her that maybe Elizabeth needed to meet some of the men from New Shiron. They weren't afraid of beautiful powerful women. They tended to think a strong woman was vital to producing strong children. She herself was supposed to marry a commoner but reasons of state and eventually romance won out (it helped that her husband was bringing in a new bloodline to New Shiron as well).

Gabrielle leaned over and whispered quietly, "Well as soon as he is free I need to let him know we have a new heir to the family coming. Do wait until I tell him though"

Far Northern Territories

The first rays of the morning sun glinted off the white expanse, creating a brilliant light reflected off the snow. It was with good reason why the participants standing outside wore goggles to prevent snow blindness.

The engines of the three hypersonic transports gradually whined down, as if protesting the unjustice of being subjucated to the harsh conditions. A small contingent of maintenance staff worked to keep the planes de-iced and, more importantly, not to turn into a large ice cube.

The palm bearers exited with their precious load towards the waiting walruses. Behind them were 20 King’s Own, some bearing a token representation of the war booty that was displayed to great effect in the stadium. The lone human who was with them stood impassively in his great mammoth coat. After this particular ceremony, the final resting of the King, the Kar Uy Rekuytur would begin. And it promised to be especially bloody. No doubt the other Great Houses had already informed their private armies to ready themselves. Rex Yulley, CEO and Grand Duke of Apollo kept his thoughts private as he grimly surveyed the other walruses. No doubt that he would be singled out first just for the mere fact that he was human. After all, they tried to take away his company but he had managed to hang on. Still, he resented the fact that Apollo Auto was sold to Wittelbach-Bathway International. He had been, so far, unsuccessful in reaching a deal with the Landgrave. Oh well, he thought. If I were to become King…

His thoughts were interrupted as the palm bearers drew closer. Atop the bier were the charred remains of the King, the ashes carefully gathered and placed within an urn that resembled more of a capsule than the everyday model. The monks marched solemnly towards the Grand Dukes who stood before the small dome structure. Ten King’s Own pulled hard and finally, the heavy door groaned open. Inside was a gentle staircase made especially for walruses, although humans can easily traverse it, leading downwards. The Grand Dukes turned and followed the monks who by this time began to softly chant. Two of the King’s Own went ahead, lighting the torches for the party as they descended.

At the body, a large crypt awaited them. The room itself was circular and had a great stone slab in the middle. Together, the dukes pushed the slab partially open. With great dignity, the capsule was lowered into the empty space. Following this, the war booty was arranged beside the capsule. With great effort, the stone slab was pushed back in place.

After this exertion, everyone rested for a brief moment. Then one of the monks withdrew a leather-bound book and intoned.

-Now, hear this, Grand Dukes and soon to be King. I shall read from the Book of Destruction. You know of this, as per your duty as Grand Duke. But, there are the names of…let’s see…yes, at least two nations that has not been crossed off. This means that there is unfinished business and that means that all of us here are devoted to swear the complete and utter destruction of these nations of which I am about to read….

It didn’t take long, of course. Some of the dukes were shocked at the mention of these nations while others nodded, as if their predictions came true. For in telling the names, all the dukes were bound to make this a reality and, more importantly, keep the new King accountable.

A sprinkle of dirt, some ground up walrus tusk, someclamshells, a dried up piece of octopus and cantaloupe rind on top of the slab by the head monk completed the ceremony and they all trooped outside to the now biting cold. The King’s Own pushed the door closed and, to complete the job, a tank was driven from one of the transports and was then parked in front of the door. The tank itself was basically stripped down and would be rendered useless after the driver exited. It was a symbolic gesture to what was done in the old days of rolling a stone in front of the tomb.

A final chant, more fierce this time and perhaps along the lines of death to anyone disturbing the resting place, and then they all left back to Vrak Prime.

Rex looked out the window as this forlorn place. He was, like all the others, in the greatest test of all. That of survival. And Vrak would be safe for no one for the next week or however long it took to find the new King.

The monk seemed positively delighted that someone was actually interested in the Order of Bok. And an outsider to boot! Luk Trom was estastic!

“I am so glad that you want to know about our beliefs,” he bubbled, “because I never get a chance to tell anyone outside of Vrak what we are about.”

He spread his flippers grandly.

“We do not believe in a ‘Heaven’ per say if I understand the definition correctly. But, The Strange is indeed a wonderous place where all Vrakians, or I should say all true believers go to. Now, there are four aspects of The Strange, that of Bok, the walrus god himself, or herself; the Great Clam, the Octopus, and the Cantaloupe. Bok is the creator and destroyer. It was by his will that the world came to be and, as such his nature, both good and evil came into existence. The Great Clam is the repository of all the wonders and knowledge of the universe while the Octopus is, well, let’s see, the manifestation of Life. The Cantaloupe has to do with the seemingly Randomness of Everything. Then again, there are many schools of thought on this and I daresay some of our prominent theologians are divided on some major issues. Some blame this on the Cantaloupe with others see it as part of Bok. So, you see…”

He began to babble, his voice rising and falling but getting ever more excited at sharing his extensive knowledge on the subject. One could argue that these monks needed to get outside more.

Kir, for his part, noted the monk’s sudden enthusiasm and raised an eyebrow.

Perez smiled in reply to the first remark, and nodded politely at the first few lines.

He raised an eyebrow as the flow of words turned into a torrent; inside he could hear a voice that sounded remarkably like the First Minister's snapping "if I ask you what the time is, don't tell me how to make a watch!" None of that showed on his face of course, and any attempt by the empath to read his emotions would run smack into a stone wall. He did notice Kir's expression, and concealed an internal smile; perhaps the other had been subject to a similar barrage of informaion. He did find it interesting, but hadn't banked on getting such a comprehensive description.

At a gap, when the monk paused for breath, the Cardinal held up a hand.
"This is all most fascinating, but I'm afraid I didn't get to eat much on the flight here. Our stomachs tend to be rather irreverent, and mine is expressing its displeasure. Shall we...?" he pointed towards the buffet.

Aryet had reached the bar, and was gazing intently at the various drinks on offer. She was thirsty, but simply couldn't make up her mind.

She was late, and she knew it. She had spent a little extra time to make sure she looked absolutely dazzling in her black dress and black Mirkai feather hat. She also knew that by arriving last she might be able to get some extra attention, and that was something she knew a Veganian envoy needed badly. Emilia was acutely aware of The Reich bad reputation and this was a chance to tie some new contacts and maybe strengthen a few alliances.

Emilia strode in with carefully staged self confidence when her name was announced. She smiled at the people and tried to remember them from the cards she had been studying prior to this occasion. Some very important people here, shows that walrus influence or maybe the Klaatchian influence? All alone, without any body guards she received a drink by one of the manservants and started to mingle.

The Nachxa had many,many daughters and grand-daughters and was able to spot a young lady crying out for attention from quite a long ways away. He smiled to himself and excused himself from his current company to introduce himself to the representative from the Reich.

He walks over and offers Emilia his hand and a nod of the head " I am Tlatloni Nachxa-Itihicoatl, Special Envoy of The Republican Council. I'm apologize, I didn't catch where you were from, I was quite engrossed."

Emilia tried to avoid blushing as the the Nachxa approached her with an compliment. These foreigners were so different from the grey bureaucrats in Vegana and so full of charm and flair. She cursed herself under her breath. I'm a diplomat not a school girl, get a hold on it. She desperately tried to remember what she knew about Ilek-Vaad and if The Reich had any unfortunate history with it.

-" Emilia M'Laki, Foreign minister of the wonderful nation of Vegana” She started without really thinking and continued with a smile “I see the rumours about the charm of the Vaadians are true”

The older gentleman raises his eyebrows and smiles warmly at Emilia. "A pleasure to meet you. There are rumours of charming Vaadians? Scurrilous lies I assure you."

He thinks hard about 'Vegana' " I do not believe that I have ever met anyone from your nation, but it is indeed a pleasure to meet you. Is Vegana very far?"

I hope that really is true, Nathi thought, making a note to check up on the intel concerning Tanah Burung and what had happened since. There hadn’t after all, been much that could be done considering the circumstances. It had been a bit touch and go all the same, considering the faceoff with one of her allies and the Knootoss forces. She nodded politely to Violeta as she spoke. “I hope that things continue to improve for you and yours,” she said simply.

“As for treaties, you are indeed correct,” she said to The Nachxa, smiling perhaps a bit wryly. “Then again, for some such treaties are not difficult to uphold, being nations that avoid much military meddling and the like.” As he excused himself, she offered a polite bow. “It has been a pleasure.”

To those still in the vicinity, she came back to the reason why they were gathered, hoping to find both some common ground, and perhaps learn more about them.

“I must say, I’ve never seen such a ceremony as we were graced with earlier. Quite moving, I thought. It speaks highly of the Vrakian people both to have such a stirring display of unity, and to be joined by so many honorable allies of theirs who seem to be gathered here, even if it is for such a sad occasion.”

I hope that really is true, Nathi thought, making a note to check up on the intel concerning Tanah Burung and what had happened since. There hadn’t after all, been much that could be done considering the circumstances. It had been a bit touch and go all the same, considering the faceoff with one of her allies and the Knootoss forces. She nodded politely to Violeta as she spoke. “I hope that things continue to improve for you and yours,” she said simply.

“As for treaties, you are indeed correct,” she said to The Nachxa, smiling perhaps a bit wryly. “Then again, for some such treaties are not difficult to uphold, being nations that avoid much military meddling and the like.” As he excused himself, she offered a polite bow. “It has been a pleasure.”

To those still in the vicinity, she came back to the reason why they were gathered, hoping to find both some common ground, and perhaps learn more about them.

“I must say, I’ve never seen such a ceremony as we were graced with earlier. Quite moving, I thought. It speaks highly of the Vrakian people both to have such a stirring display of unity, and to be joined by so many honorable allies of theirs who seem to be gathered here, even if it is for such a sad occasion.”

Alexander nodded, "Quite, the King was a strong ally of the United Duchies it would be dishonorable of us not to give our respects at his funeral. Although the succession rites are going to be quite...We are not sure we know the proper adjactive for what is about to occur. Quite Klatchian, seems to be the best phrase."

The older gentleman raises his eyebrows and smiles warmly at Emilia. "A pleasure to meet you. There are rumours of charming Vaadians? Scurrilous lies I assure you."

He thinks hard about 'Vegana' " I do not believe that I have ever met anyone from your nation, but it is indeed a pleasure to meet you. Is Vegana very far?"

Emilia couldn't help laughing a resounding laugh but quickly regained her composure. -"I'm not sure if laughter is appropriate for such a sad occassion" she said, glancing around her for any signs of disapproval. "[i]Yes, Vegana is far away from here, but our nation's hope is that Klaatch and Reich should be closer than today. I have only read a few books about Klaatch and Ilek-Vaad but you seem to have a fascinating history."

Macisikan

The walrus bobbed his head in agreement with Perez’s suggestion. In truth, he was always hungry and followed the cardinal to the buffet table. Of course, his effervescent babbling completely blinded him to Perez’s attempt to disentangle himself from the conversation. After all, who doesn’t want to share in the Glory of Bok?

Kir, however, was a wise old politician and waddled over to the pair. He patted Trom on the side and, while looking at Perez, said.

“Luk Trom! I share your enthusiasm for the teachings of Bok and so does our guest the Cardinal. Why don’t you go and see if you can get some information from your quarters and share with us in a little while?

Trom was, of course, even more overjoyed. He bowed repeatedly to the Minister and then Perez and back and forth. This went on for about a minute until Kir coughed. The monk caught himself and then exited, promising to “be right back!”

Kir winked and rumbled, “That should take care of him for a while.”

All

As the monk was exiting, a King’s Own stepped in and, after spying the Chief Cultural Minister, made his way through the gathering. Mind you, he wasn’t altogether successful at being unobstrusive since unlike the last messenger he was in full battle dress with a machine gun slung over his shoulder. He snapped a salute and then spoke quickly in Vrakian. Kir frowned and then promptly dismissed him.

He turned his great head towards the Cardinal and said,

“Please excuse me. I must make an important announcement.”

Composing himself, he then began to speak.

“Honoured guests. May I please have your attention? Thank you. It seems that the ‘nation’ of Timaru and Moskau is now under attack by the Var and our own state. I am obligated to tell you this only for reasons of personal safety but you are safe here. Vrak itself is not under attack. However, if you feel that your safety may be in jeopardy, then we understand if you wish to leave. I apologize for this…erm…state of affairs.”

A deep bow and then a turn back to the Cardinal.

Perez nodded to Kir gratefully; he was vaguely interested in the subject, but Trom was, sadly, not the best at engaging the old man.

Aryet turned her head when the announcement was made, then returned her full attention to the bar; she still could not make up her mind.

When Kir returned to the Cardinal, the old man, having half-loaded a plate with various nibbly-bits and hors-d'ourves, nodded to him.
"Events seem to move quickly on this," he commented, studying one of the items on his plate. "Of course, you understand that young Elgiva will declare our neutrality, and then support the position of yourselves and the Alconians," he added, hunting along the buffet. "In the meantime, I see my granddaughter has been pursuing the standard response in a case like this," his voice warmed with approval as he selected another item.
"Tell me, Minister Kir, it is Minister Kir isn't it?" at this point the Cardinal turned to face the Vrakian "Tell me, is there anything you would like us to do to support the Klatch?"

Throughout the Cardinal had pitched his voice so that Kir could hear it, but no one else.

The Nachxa smiled at Emilia, before turning to listen to the announcement od the commencement of hostilities. He turned back to Emilia "Regrettable that. So many wars started for such unreasonable causes. Diplomacy is very nearly dead in our world thanks to so many states that feel that their high tech hardware gives them a pass on actually negotiating with their neighbors."

He shrugs and and smiles "So tell me of Vegana, it is in the Reich, is it not?"

The Nachxa's 'Staff' and his granddaughter looked a bit more worried by the news and she set about contacting various officials in case she was required to apprise The Nachxa of the situation.

“I had heard rumor that the succession was … spirited,” Nathicana offers carefully, not really having the details, but possessing ample imagination, with ‘Klatchian’ being used as a descriptive raising red flags immediately in her mind.

The announcement of course, did not help with this image, and elicited an immediate response from the two men accompanying her.

“Well, that tears it,” Jacobian says quietly as he leans in to speak to Nathi, while Mas steps in closer as well, both taking up a more actively protective stance. He continues in her native tongue, in politely hushed tones. “Time’s up, Empress – between talk of a rough succession and a newly-hatched war, this is no place for you to be.”

Nathicana’s eyes narrow, giving Jas a sidelong look, her chin tilting up in that imperious way that always means trouble for whoever’s on the receiving end. “I go when and where I choose, old man. I realize we have few if any true friends here, but I am not about to cause an incident or offer slight, or appear weak in rushing out at the slightest hint of danger. I agree that a withdrawal would likely be best, but it will be done gradually and with tact. Loom all you must, but I am not leaving just yet.” She too chooses her native Italian to reply, then turns to Alexander and makes an apologetic bow of her head.

“Mi dispiace,” she offers. “I had hoped that an already sad day would not be overshadowed with other unfortunate events, but fate it seems, has other plans. Apologies for the aside – such things tend to ruffle security.”

Alexander nodded, "Well we were joined by a Vrakian Prince on our voyage here. Prince Paul has lived in northern Hubris for a number of years now..." Alexander was cut off by the annoucement and the security team's response.

Alexander politely ignored the conversation Nathi was having. But it was fairly obvious that the old man could likely understand italian to a point.

Alexander smiled, the eyes seemed to be filled with a bit of humor. "Quite understandable, and it was likely enevitable. With King Vrak's death, some people will take the opportunity to act when they think the Federation and Vrak is weak. The Moskauvites have learned that may not be the case."

The Grand Duke paused for a moment, "However it is prudent to ensure that we monarchs can saftely and quickly removed if the situation in Vrak Prime warrants. We would, as close allies of the Vrakians, wish to offer our assistance to the Dominion's security forces in helping develop contigency plans and preperations so that the Dominion may feel more comfortable with their Empresses presence in Vrak Prime. I am sure that my Grandson will also be more than willing to assist the Dominion in a similar fashion."

Alexander had avoided any mention of overhearing the discussion between Nathi and her security detail, but had offered to allow an emergency extraction team for the Dominion to be based in either in the United Duchies or L.O.W. Considering how Xenophobic most Klatchians were, this was quite an offer.

T.B. is your character still with Nathi and Alexander or did she wander off someplace else?

((still there, listening and smiling sweetly as needed.))

OOC: I won't have Internet from my house until March 9th. Till then, it will be sporatic from university. Sorry folks. I'll keep up the best I can.

The Nachxa smiled at Emilia, before turning to listen to the announcement od the commencement of hostilities. He turned back to Emilia "Regrettable that. So many wars started for such unreasonable causes. Diplomacy is very nearly dead in our world thanks to so many states that feel that their high tech hardware gives them a pass on actually negotiating with their neighbors."

He shrugs and and smiles "So tell me of Vegana, it is in the Reich, is it not?"

The Nachxa's 'Staff' and his granddaughter looked a bit more worried by the news and she set about contacting various officials in case she was required to apprise The Nachxa of the situation.

-"Yes, war is always horrible. I just pray for Klatch to come out unscathed of this. We haven't had a war in my nation during my lifetime but my father told me about men coming home maimed after defending humanity in faraway battles. Emilia looked a bit worried, nothin in her diplomatic training had prepared her for a public war declaration in a social event. She had no clue how Vegana positioned itself in this business but assumed that they were placed on the Klatchian side.

-"Vegana is in the Reich yes, I just left a marvellous spring behind to come to this wonderful nation. I dont know what I can tell you about my country, sometimes everything seems so natural to me so I cant see what could possibly interest people from other countries. We have a long time regarded Vrak and Klatch as friendly and I hoped I would get to know your different nations a bit more. Is this war affecting your country as well?"

-"Yes, war is always horrible. I just pray for Klatch to come out unscathed of this. We haven't had a war in my nation during my lifetime but my father told me about men coming home maimed after defending humanity in faraway battles. Emilia looked a bit worried, nothin in her diplomatic training had prepared her for a public war declaration in a social event. She had no clue how Vegana positioned itself in this business but assumed that they were placed on the Klatchian side.

-"Vegana is in the Reich yes, I just left a marvellous spring behind to come to this wonderful nation. I dont know what I can tell you about my country, sometimes everything seems so natural to me so I cant see what could possibly interest people from other countries. We have a long time regarded Vrak and Klatch as friendly and I hoped I would get to know your different nations a bit more. Is this war affecting your country as well?"

The Nachcxa smiles "I am certain that this war will affect The Free Republic. Try as we might we simply cannot ignore the troubles of the Klatch no matter how much our neighbors want us to. The Federation constantly threatens us with war for intervening yet they themselves do nothing to stop the threats to security and stability in the Klatch. Not to worry , the Retaliatory Guard is more than capable of removing any threat to The Free Republic."

The Nachxa looks thoughtful "Well how about you tell me about your nations government? Who is in charge of Vegana at the moment?"

The Nachcxa smiles "I am certain that this war will affect The Free Republic. Try as we might we simply cannot ignore the troubles of the Klatch no matter how much our neighbors want us to. The Federation constantly threatens us with war for intervening yet they themselves do nothing to stop the threats to security and stability in the Klatch. Not to worry , the Retaliatory Guard is more than capable of removing any threat to The Free Republic."

The Nachxa looks thoughtful "Well how about you tell me about your nations government? Who is in charge of Vegana at the moment?"

Emilia face was sad and she shook her head,-" It must be horrible to live in a state of insecurity and threats. I pray for you to reach stability in your region and a speedy victory over your enemies." Emilia looked at all he other people in the room to see their reaction to these news, not many seemed to care. How very strange... She thought.

-"Oh, my nations government. We have a lot of people in our government, running a nation with seven billion people cant be done without great delegating skills. Our beloved leader is the Benevolent Jaar, he's been our leader for as long as I can remember! Moving our country from the farming community it once was into the the future with new technologies and safety for all.

The Nachxa smiles to Emilia "Sometimes stability is over rated.. Things in the Free Republic itself are very quiet and stable, mostly because the People are quick to vote anyone off the Republican Council that endangers stability, the People's xenophobia is a great insulator, but sometimes the insulation is suffocating."

The Nachxa pauses and looks around "Ah yes, the Benevolent Jaar. I can't say I've always agreed with his policies, but your nation seems to do very well. I'm sure that this 'Dyellian Conflict' will soon blow over, the Dyellians seem to have to have a good internal fight every decade or so."

The offer from Alexander was, to put it lightly, unexpected. Nathicana arching one brow slightly as she mulls over possible reasons for ‘why’ and ‘what could they seek to gain’ in her head all things considered, pausing but a moment before responding. She offers Alexander a graceful bow, though she keeps her eyes on his.

“Should the need arise, we would of course be quite grateful for the assistance. Bene grazie, your Grace. Please accept my personal thanks for such a gracious offer – it will not be forgotten.”

Jas makes no bones about what he thinks of the offer, glowering quietly behind his employer. Then again, given his usual dour expression … he snaps open his lighter and lights up a fresh cigarette, holding it between his lips, breathing in through his nose, and out through the corner of his mouth, directing the smoke away from the group. Mas at least has the Dominion-bred sense of tact to simply watch the exchange impassively, while continuing to keep an eye out for any potential trouble, though he too was curious as to what Nathicana was thinking.

Alexander returned a small headbow, "Your welcome your Highness." Alexander turned his attention to the Burungi. "And of course the United Duchies would extradite you in such circumstances. I can not fail in my families duty to the Burungi now can I?"

So why would the United Duchies be so freindly to the Dominion? If you gathered thirty intellgence anylysts together and asked the question, "Why did Alexander the Third just offer help to Nathi the First?" you would get thirty diffrent answers. The United Duchies had well a duality to them, half the time they were involved up to their necks in dark plots. At the same time they were usually being seen as a reputaible, 'good' nation.
For example, they had actually been supporting the Knootian 'police action' in Tanah Burung with UAV's. However, when things went horribly south, they apparently forced both sides back to the negotating table. How they got the Knootians back was a bit obscure, but it was rumored that the Royal Envoy of the United Duchies had locked the Burungi government in exile into a room with a tiger to get them to agree to a peace deal. (Actually the Royal Envoy had a pet tiger so things may have been a bit less forceful)

Obviously the Alconians had a self-intrest in being so generous. Could it be Dynastic? The Crawfords seemed to be on the road to intermarrying with every other human royal family in the Klatch. Alexander had a grandson ruling the Var, and his wife had been Queen of New Shiron until recently. Could the Crawfords be laying the ground work for a later dynastic marriage? Could the Federation be looking for new freinds in the world, with Ilek-Vaad having a rather childish fit over Klatchian not behaving like Vaadians, the Federation might be feeling in needed new allies in the universe.

*****
Alexander nodded for a moment and then changed subjects, "So your highness, do you have any particular sports you enjoy?" Obviously Alexander was not going to suddenly tell the Dominion party why.

The Nachxa smiles to Emilia "Sometimes stability is over rated.. Things in the Free Republic itself are very quiet and stable, mostly because the People are quick to vote anyone off the Republican Council that endangers stability, the People's xenophobia is a great insulator, but sometimes the insulation is suffocating."

The Nachxa pauses and looks around "Ah yes, the Benevolent Jaar. I can't say I've always agreed with his policies, but your nation seems to do very well. I'm sure that this 'Dyellian Conflict' will soon blow over, the Dyellians seem to have to have a good internal fight every decade or so."

-"Yes, he seems to be misunderstood and misquoted a lot outside Reich but thanks to him we have almost no criminality and prosper. Seems like I read something about Dyellian conflicts in school but I cant really put my finger on it. Can you tell me little about your nation? I am of a curious nature and love to learn about other countries."

-"Yes, he seems to be misunderstood and misquoted a lot outside Reich but thanks to him we have almost no criminality and prosper. Seems like I read something about Dyellian conflicts in school but I cant really put my finger on it. Can you tell me little about your nation? I am of a curious nature and love to learn about other countries."


The Nachxa smiles "Well we don't have anything as interesting as talking walruses, so prepare to be bored.

We are a direct democracy , with over seven billion inhabitants. The Free Republic was founded either in 800 A.D. or in 1210 A.D. depending on who you ask. 800 A.D. being the founding of the Kingdom of Lassic, now our capital, 1210 being the when The Vaad first organized the democratically elected Council. The Free Republic is now comprised of seven Republics.

The Republican Council rules and it's members are elected each and every year a First Republican is then chosen by the acclaim of the council to be chief executive. Judges are elected every three years and meet to choose vacancies for the Supreme Judiciary which is chosen for life.

Military service is compulsory, everyone is active for one year and then reserve until the age of fifty eight in the Velite Guard. The Retaliatory Guard are the standing full time volunteer army, and they are led by the Supreme Republican Commander who is chosen each year by the First Republican who also chooses the Velite General, who serves for life. He serves for life because part of his job is to police the Republican Council, so he must be beholden to no one.

The curent First Republican is The Right and Honourable Theleb Kanaan, Chairman of the Progressive Republican Party, which currently holds a Command Majority in the Council. Commander Yash Ihsan is the current Velite General and Commander Adan Ring is the current Supreme Republican Commander.

The Free Republic currently has no binding treaties or accords with any nation, and that is generally how we like it."

He smiles and awaits any questions.