NationStates Jolt Archive

Abt Bay, Eastern Ambara

The speedboat’s bottom touched the sand as it came to a stop. Several men, dressed into what resembled combat armor and armed accordingly, jumped out of it and into the water, and walked towards the shore. Some water spilled into their boots, but it was warm and did not distract them from their little journey. They dragged the speed boat upon the sandy coast and then looked around themselves.

“A tropical paradise indeed. And this is where we shall found our own nation!”

The men smiled at each other as one of them looked towards the sea where, in a distance, three cruise ships dropped their anchors. They were not new and had surely seen better days, but their masters only purchased them for a single goal. Besides, the ships served their new owners loyally and faithfully, protecting them from storms and always getting them to destination.

One of the men, in his fourties, with thick black hair and vivid eyes, gave a glance at one of the hills dominating the bay, and motioned his arm. “Yuri, Telth, I think that height shall be perfect for the flag.”

The two nodded and hurried off, carrying with them a long object wrapped into dark cloth. And as they vanished behind palm trees, more speedboats arrived at the ‘deployment zone’, bearing both armed and unarmed men, who gathered by the same man who gave orders not so long ago.

“Well, men, this is where we shall found the Abt Republic. If we are lucky, it will eventually grow into something. If not, then we might still be able to turn into a tourist resort.” Everybody laughed at the joke as the Commander continued. “But whatever fate reserves us, we shall not go far without shelter for our families and docks to allow disembarking. So… to your saws, hammers, axes and, for some, first aid kits, and on to building!”

And as another round of laughter erupted, a soft blast came from the distance as a green flare flew off into the sky. And as everybody looked in its direction, they whistled and cheered, for on the hill up there in the wind proudly flew the flag of the Free Axemen Free Mercenary Corps (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v77/Namellar/GDT/abt.png), the same corps that decided to cease their activities and establish their own realms. The idea was crazy, yet they had the men, they had the money, and all they needed was a bit of luck and a lot of patience.

Abt Bay, Eastern Ambara

Some days later

The first temporary infrastructure was setting up nicely, as a camp grew on the shores of the bay, dominating the hills above it. Armed men guarded the perimeter as construction went on. A rather impressive workforce was dispatched to an edge of the bay, where water was the deepest, to begin work on a temporary wooden pier to which the ships could dock. And as the flag of the Free Axemen flew above the hills, the ships still proudly flew the Taraskovyan merchant navy flags, willing not to be taken for pirates because of flying the flag of a non-existing nation.

Soon enough, they would begin building solid structures, once they have explored the territory sufficiently and found a suiting place for a permanent settlement. Their colleagues who remained back in Tarasovka to foresee for the purchase and supply of building materials and equipment have long since prepared everything necessary.

[OOC: Writers block.]

The helicopter slowly came into view, a black dot againg the beautiful Atlantic sunrise seen off of Ambara's sparsely occuppied east coast. As it came into view of the settlers at Abt, the shape gradually became distinct, showing the lines of a sleek military helicopter, lightly armed but not a gunship by any means. The craft had a black exterior with the gold and green markings of the Danaan Navy, which might or might not be recognized by the settlers.

The loud whirring of the helicopter could soon be heard over the settlement as it flew above the temporary infrastructure to land just to the west. Two officers stepped out of the helicopter, both wearing the somewhat courtly dress uniforms of the Danaan Navy. The pilot, dressed in a standard flightsuit, remained aboard.

As the two men approached the Taraskovyans, their features became more distinct. The first of the men had fair skin and jet-black hair with light blue eyes. The second had equally dark hair, but thicker and curly. His skin had a light olive complexion to it. Both men were about the same height and both had the robust physique that befitted a line officer.

The first man, addressing the newcomers in near perfect Russian. "Good evening. I'm Lieutenant Commander Gennadi Chahine of the Danaan Navy. I was wondering if I could speak with whoever is in charge here."

The Free Axemen guarding the perimeter were not stupid and, thus, when they saw members of what appeared to be the Danaan military approach the settlement, their rifles did not dart into the air to aim at the heads of their guests. The guards stood calmly, the barrels of their guns pointing to the ground and the small axes on their sides hanging peacefully.

Of course, since nearly anyone could dress as he wanted without necessarily having the right to wear the garments in question, a sniper hidden some distance away took the "guests" under his attentive watch. Just in case the "armymen" came up to be "somethingelsemen".

“Polkovnik* Kelberath is the one you seek, Pan Kapitan-Poruchik**,” one of the guards said in Russian, with neither hostility nor friendliness in his voice. “Please surrender any weapons you may have and we shall guide you to him. Your arms shall be returned to you when you leave.”

[OOC:
*Polkovnik means Colonel in Russian.
*Kapitak-Poruchik stands for Captain-Lieutenant and is sort of equal to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, by comparing the Taraskovyan and US tables.]

Chahine frowned lightly at the request. He turned to his compatriot and ordered him, in English, to hand his weapon over the Free Axemen. Reluctantly, both men grudgingly handed over their Sayce M2006 revolvers.

"Very well, let's go see the Polkovnik." Chahine said. He and the other man smiled slightly as they moved to follow their hosts.

...

Jacob Saal looked over the report with a small frown. The slim man in his late thirties had only been the Foreign Ministry's Secretary for Ambara for a few months but that was long enough to know that the region could hardly afford any more disruption. With a light sigh, he picked up his telephone. "Edudwel, could you please arrange for me to speak with someone in Pantocratorian Ambara, with the Federal Ministers of all the Danaan Ambaran Principalities, and with the Marlunders and Adoki too?"

"Yes, sir." she answered promptly, first dialing up Pantocratorian Ambara.

One of the guards, who had the insignia on his arm which looked like a double bladed hand axe, took hold of the revolvers and putg them into two ammunition bags on his belt. The guards seemed content at that and did not proceed to further search the two officers. “This way, Your High Honour,” the ‘double bladed’ said as he invited the Danaan officers to follow him down the hill and into the camp itself.

“I am sorry to take such measures, Pan Kapitan-Poruchik,” he spoke as they passed buildings of various sizes, with the men and several women they met paying them only little attention, busy with their tasks. “But anyone can put on a Danaan uniform and, unfortunately, I can’t authenticate your identities.”

Finally, they arrived in front of a structure which was not very different from the rest of the camp, except that several armed guardsmen stood on its perimeter. The ‘double bladed’ led his guests inside and into a hall where several men stood in the center, looking at a map. Along the walls stood various electronic equipment fed from generators, which made the room look like a field commander center. And to a certain extent, it was a command center.

“Polkovnik, we have guests who wish to see you,” the ‘double bladed’ said. “Kapitan-Poruchik Chahine and…” The Axeman frowned, not knowing the name of the other man. The Commander of the Free Axemen, smiled and nodded to the ‘double bladed’.

“It is all right, Valera, I shall take on from here.”

Valeriy the 'double bladed' inclined his head in agreement and approached the table by which the Colonel and his aides stood, putting the two revolvers on it, before walking out of the hall and into the street. The local leader looked at his guests with his green eyes and smiled.

“I am Colonel Kelberath, Commander of the, now rather former, Free Axemen Mercenary Corps. Please, have a seat if you wish,” he spoke in perfect English, motioning towards several free chairs.

"Lieutenant Nadab Wiezman." Chahine said in response to the double bladed's unspoken question as to the identity of his companion. "Unfortunately, he doesn't speak Russian. He's just hear in case I need assistance."

The two Danaans sat down when they were invited. They maintained an upright poster, even when sitting, and their backs barely touched the chairs. It was hardly a conscious thing on their part. Rather, the two men were both so thoroughly immersed in the quasi-aristocratic culture of the Danaan officer corps that such mannerisms were quite natural to them.

"Thank you for seeing us, Colonel." Lieutenant Commander Chahine began. "Our superiors felt it necessary that someone make immediate contact with you so as to ascertain your intentions. As you know, the Resurgent Dream does not claim this land nor do we as yet recognize any claim on it by any other power. However, I am sure you will agree, sir, that this area is close enough to our territory that any new settlement is of interest to us, especially given the volatile state of this continent."

Aorin Kelberath listened attentively to Chahine, without interrupting the man, as he observed the two guests. It would have appeared that they were indeed officers, judging by their composure and, moreover, their natural ease in such behaviour. He smiled at the mention of interest the Danaan state had in them, making a slight dismissive gesture with his hand.

“I assure you that our intentions are entirely peaceful, for I am not about to go to war against the Resurgent Dream with my two thousand men,” the Colonel grinned as his aides chuckled. “And we indeed know of the proximity of a Danaan naval base, to which we hold no ill intent what so ever, as explained previously.”

The Colonel moved around the table and sat down in an other chair as his aides went back to their business studying the maps and doing something on the computers.

“If you gentlemen desire anything to drink, I shall send someone to find some drinks. I just do not permit alcohol on important posts, such as this one, so we have nothing on the spot. But we have a warehouse close by with various tasty things.” Kelberath smiled and paused, before continuing. “You, Kapitan-Poruchik, speak our language. Then you most surely know the symbolism of vol’niy* - one’s own master. And that is exactly what we came here for, to fulfill the vol’niy part of our name and be our own masters.

“We have served many masters before; we have fought in many a war. But now, we want to build instead of destroying, and destroy quite a few things we did.” The Colonel grinned again, shaking his head. “We understand that the Resurgent Dream would be reluctant to recognize the claims of any newcomers in Ambara, but we do not seek any recognition. All we seek is not to be hindered in our endeavors.”

[OOC: *Vol’niy is one of the ways to say ‘free’ in Russian, and has a slightly different connotation than the other words meaning ‘free’, as mentioned above.
The original name of the unit is Vol’niye Topori (literally: Free Axes).]

Chahine inclined his head. "My ancestors were Russian. It was many generations ago but Danaans believe strongly in maintaining ties to ones roots."

Smiling slightly, he accepted the colonel's offer. "We would be much obliged for something to drink. Whatever you prefer is quite fine by us."

The rest of what the colonel said required a good deal more thought and the two men were silent for a long moment. Finally, Chahine addressed the colonel. "You will understand that I cannot make any promises on behalf of my government. However, this is not our land. I do not believe it likely that we would have any cause for quarrel with any settlers here who meant us no harm. However, I was wondering if you are fully aware of the risks of settling here." He gestured westwards. "In the vast jungles which stretch from the east coast to the midpoint of the continent, there are nests of terrorists known as the Sons of the Reformation who might be quite dangerous to your people."

Pantocratorian Ambara's Minister for External Affairs was Felicité Delabiere. Her secretary had taken the Danaan call and after a few minutes, had arranged to put it through to Delabiere.

"This is Felicité Delabiere. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" she asked, in French.

"Good evening, Your Excellency. This is Jacob Saal, the Secretary for Ambara in the Danaan Foreign Ministry. I trust you're doing well?"

"I'm doing just fine, thank you. To what do I owe the pleasure, Monsieur Saal?" Delabiere enquired.

"Well, is Your Excellency aware of the landing on the eastern shore of Ambara?" Saal asked.

"I have no detailed information about it." replied Delabiere.

"Neither do we, yet. We're sending a small naval team to investigate." he responded.

"What is the Danaan stance on... a new settlement being established in Eastern Ambara?" asked Delabiere.

"That depends on who it turns out to be. The specific area of settlement is closest to Danaan Ambara than to any other west coast state and, as you know, the Resurgent Dream is the only Ambaran power to currently maintain military bases in the east. However, legally speaking, I don't think we'd have much grounds to oppose them even if they turned out to be from a hostile power. We've never made any public statement referring to that area as anything but unclaimed virgin land. These settlers, whoever they are, would be acting entirely within the conventions of international law to claim their settlement and a reasonable amount of the surrounding land either for themselves or for their homeland." he said.

"I'm not sure I agree with that assessment. Our stance on the sovereignty of that area has not yet been tested. Public statements by themselves do not constitute legally renouncing any claims of sovereignty to an area." Delabiere said. "We are not particularly eager for a hostile power to establish a settlement in Ambara..."

"Is Pantocratorian Ambara considering claiming sovereignty over Sahor?" he asked.

"No, but that doesn't mean we don't have a vested interest in who does." she answered.

"So do we. So do the Adoki and Marlunders." he responded.

"I know." Delabiere said.

"There are a number of obvious options to be considered. We could declare that large sections of Sahor were natural room for growth for the various nations currently inhabiting the western shore. We could declare them a sphere of influence and reserve the right to expel any claimant who posed a military threat while not restricting others. We could establish multinational mandate of some kind. Or we could offer them to our common friends or at least make them available to any power which could get the express permission of all four current Ambaran powers."

"Well, this entire conversation is hypothetical until we know who these settlers are, Monsieur Saal." Delabiere responded. "We need to know that as soon as possible. When are you expecting to hear from your naval team?"

"In an hour or two." he answered. "Five at the outset. However, I don't think this conversation is hypothetical. If the settlers turn out to be perfectly acceptable, there are still vast tracts of land in an ambiguous situation. I don't want to be piecing together policy everytime anyone lands on Ambara. There needs to be a coherent policy."

"Well then, ideally, Monsieur Saal, we'd like to see the whole of Sahor declared to be Danaan territory, which can only be settled with Danaan approval." Delabiere answered.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. He'd hardly been expecting that.

"We will...certainly take your wishes into consideration, Your Excellency. However, it will take years for even Danaan Ambara to be completely settled. It would take many more to settle all of Sahor, which is four times the size, after all. And there would be domestic disputes. It would be politically inadvisable and, perhaps, impossible, to create new principalities, meaning any new land claims must either be divided among existing ones or ruled directly from Tarana, both possibilities being extremely problematic in their own way."

"I'm not suggesting that you create new principalities, or that the territory actually be ruled or settled by Danaans." Delabiere continued. "I'm suggesting that you declare the whole of Sahor to be Danaan territory. Anybody who wished to settle there could only do so with your approval, and could import their own local government."

"Pantocratorian Ambara is really comfortable relinquishing a say in the matter?" he inquired incredulously.

"It's unrealistic to expect that we'd have one, and we'd rather have the decision made by our allies actually here with us in Ambara than New Rome." Delabiere replied. "And it would be unrealistic to expect Adoki and Marlund to relinquish a say in the matter unless Pantocratorian Ambara did so as well."

"It might be unrealistic to expect them to do so even if Pantocratorian Ambara does. Especially Adoki. You are, doubtless, more familiar than you'd like to be with their rather...unique...view of their relative importance on the world stage?"

"All the more reason not to give them the option." Delabiere replied. "The Resurgent Dream can act unilaterally in this matter. Adoki, Marlund, and Pantocratorian Ambara cannot."

"We cannot act in this matter without consulting with New Rome in accordance with the terms of the Treaty of Subeita. I am not sure your colleagues in the mother country will be quite so ready to relinquish a say in the matter." he pointed out.

"I am." Delabiere replied simply. "I will speak to the Foreign Minister before you consult with New Rome in accordance with treaty obligations. He'll secure the cabinet's approval."

"Alright. I'll make sure you're informed as soon as we hear back from our naval people."

"Thank you, Monsieur Saal." replied Delabiere.

"Have a good evening, Your Excellency."

“A bottle of Campari and some orange juice,” the Colonel said to one of his aides, who nodded and vanished outside the building. Kelberath then looked back at his guests and nodded understandingly. “Yes, we have familiarized ourselves with the local state of affairs. And we do know that there are chances of various undesirable elements roaming the country side.”

He paused a little before continuing. “However, Kapitan-Poruchik, we are not some defenceless settlers. We have fought in the Plague, we have fought in Stribog and Tavaroth, and these are only the most recent of our contracts. We know how to defend ourselves, and even if we do not have the capacity to go to war with an entire country, we are more than certain to be able to resist “terrorist” as you put it. Besides, for now the majority of my men are here, yet the majority of our families are still back in the Grand Duchy. And by the time they arrive, Abt shall be a hard place to assault…”

At this moment, the aide returned carrying the requested drinks and some glasses, which he rested on the table near the three officers. An other aide came up to the Colonel with a sheet of paper, which Kelberath examined before shaking his head disapprovingly.

“Eth, nith ile eth-naikhrit,” he said in Taraskath, the aide nodding understandingly and walking off back to his post. The Colonel then looked at his guests and gestured towards the bottles. “Please, feel at ease. If you wish something stronger, I can always send for it.”

"So long as you are aware of the risks." Chahine said. "These men have never posed a great threat to military forces. Their mode of operation is and always has been to attempt to sneak through defenses, murder unarmed women and children, and then escape back to their hiding places before troops can arrive on the scene. They are murderers and cowards all."

The two officers helped themselves to the available drinks. Each man poured one for himself and drank it in a measured, restrained manner. "Tell me, colonel..." Chahine inquired "...exactly how large do you imagine your settlement as being, once everything is set up? Do you plan on constructing additional towns and villages in addition to this initial site? Will the settlement be limited to your men and their families or do you expect others to join you as well?"

“Well then, should my men fall on any outpost of the Sons of Reformation, we shall be sure to leave none of the bandits alive. And we shall do it free of charge, too.” Kelberath laughed lightly, along with some of his men who heard him, before he continued on the subject of their settlement.

“To say the truth, I really have no idea at all.” The Colonel smiled and shrugged. “So far only the Free Axemen are in the venture, but from there on… the Grand Duchy counts more than five billion inhabitants, so I am sure that the potential other people might join us is very high. We intend to found a republic, regardless of its geographical or demographic size, and maybe others might come to join us, maybe not.”

Chahine nodded. "I understand, sir."

“In fact, we came here under the assumption that, due to certain statements and general policies, this area was beyond any national jurisdiction.” The Colonel arched an eyebrow.

"No nation presently claims this land, no." Chahine stated.

“Then it would seem that we have the right to settle here and, unless the already present nations decide to expand, to build tows and settlements in any unclaimed area. So to say, I do not exclude the possibility of our territorial expansion.” The Commander of the Free Axemen said as he sat back in his chair.

"It would seem that you do." Chahine said. "You are getting unnecessarily defensive, sir. It was simply a question."

Kelberath smiled broadly and shook his head. “Nothing defensive in my words, Kapitak-Poruchik. Just that since I believe you came here not out of your personal initiative and shall have to report your findings; I am trying to make the situation as clear as possible to those you shall report to.”

The Danaan Lieutenant Commander nodded. "I will make sure to relay your words to my superiors."

“Then, unless you wish to discuss some other issues, I propose that we part to attend to our tasks.” The Colonel said as he stood up and motioned to the table on which the revolvers were. “You may recover your weapons. Forgive us for the measures, but as you have said yourself, letting strangers inside can be dangerous in these parts.”

He smiled and looked at one of his aides, with the same double bladed axe on his arm as Valeriy, the perimeter guardsman, had. “Poruchik Ladic shall guide you out of the town. Please convey my deepest sympathies to your superiors, Kapitan-Poruchik.”

"I shall be sure to." Chahine said. He and the other man rose and collected their guns and the Lieutenant assigned to be their guide led them out of the command center and through the town. It was not long before the Danaan officers were outside of the defensive perimeter.

The two naval officers returned to their helicopter and took off, heading back to the nearest Danaan base. In one more hour, they had been thoroughly debriefed. Rear Admiral Jabin Jakubowicz passed the information on to the Ministry of Defence which, through the Ministry of Coordination, turned it over to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs within short order. From there, instructions were sent to Princess Sarah ni Beaumayn, the Danaan Ambassador in Pantocratoria, and to Tiebout Dò bbeldam, the Danaan ambassador in Pantocratorian Ambara.

It was only five hours from when Saal had first called Felicité Delabiere that she received a request for a meeting from Dò bbeldam. At roughly the same kind, Raoul received a similar request from Princess Sarah.

“So, any thoughts?”

Aorin Kelberath turned his head to face the one speaking. It was a Captain by the name of Alexei Kirasiev, a trusted friend and aide to the Colonel for many years.

“Nothing out of the extra ordinary, quite an expected reaction.” Aorin said pensively. “It would seem they do not even see us as a threat, sending a single helicopter with a delegation of two men. Not even a single warship.”

The Captain nodded and pondered. “Well, should they decide we are unwelcome here… we shall not have that much of a choice.”

“Indeed. Should being the key word here…” Kelberath said pensively. “I do not think they have any reason to kick us out. Not that we shall allow ourselves to be kicked out.”

“We barely have two thousand men here. Well trained fighters, of course, but not enough to resist a military power.”

“Us – not… but we have not relinquished our Taraskovyan citizenship yet,” the Colonel said with a smile. “So if foreigners decide to suddenly force us out of unoccupied territory, we can always appeal to the Grand Duke. But let us not rush things and wait for what comes next. For the time being, we have a settlement to fortify.”

Now that the settlement was firmly in place, the efforts of the Free Axemen concentrated on building an airfield. A plain not far from the town was chosen for the task. With the aid of new building materials and equipment that arrived with a cargo ship, and some skillful working force from “Titan” (a very efficient company specialized in construction under VerTech’s ownership), the base grew steadily.

Back on the coast’s vicinity a permanent infrastructure was also being set up, such as water purification facilities and pipe networks. The city’s shape also began to form as the administrative quarter began to grew, which would soon house the Abtian authorities. The residential areas remained wooden or consisted military tents, but they were not a priority for the time being as the families of the Axemen were still in the Grand Duchy. The docks also began to take shape as construction on a functional port began.

And, behind the curtains, Colonel Kelberath began pulling the strings that would convey him and his men the protection of the Grand Duchy. Appealing to the Grand Duke directly could work, but it would even be better if the Taraskovyan leader had a lobby of nobles, businessmen and army officers after him. And the Colonel had numerous friends throughout the country, many former employers who were satisfied with the performance of his men.

Of course, the protection of the Grand Duchy would come at a price, such as giving up their hopes of complete independence for quite some time, but it was better than being rooted out by the locals, in the hypothetical situation that the locals would root them out. Yet, the Free Axemen did not choose Ambara only because it was out of range of the Taraskovyan coilgun artillery, but also because the real regional players – Pantocratoria and the Resurgent Dream – did not have a reputation of trigger happy ruffians and would try to negotiate first with those who meant them no harm. Yet, theories are one thing, but being prepared for any eventuality was a whole other issue…

[size=1][OOC: Thought I'd post with the puppet... yayness.]/size]

As the ambassadors awaited the results of their conference with the Pantocratorians and the Pantocratorian Ambarans, the Free Axemen received an invitation to meet with locally influential Danaan figures in Agwenstadt, the capital of Thorlund, to discuss informally the future of the continent.

Colonel Kelberath pondered over the invitation to Agwenstadt. Indeed, it was both a sign of encouragement and a problem, for whilst the local political elite showed interest in Abt was a good sign, but the problem was that he needed all the men he had over on the sites, and not chit-chatting in Thorlund.

Aorin lifted his eyes and looked at Kirasiev, who was sitting opposite the Colonel. “Not going would be a bad message to the locals. Yet, I cannot go, for I need to coordinate efforts here…”

“And I am the volunteer you seek,” Alexei smiled. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as possible. Take some men and one of the birds.”

“Any agenda I am to follow? Aside from showing them a map with our claims, that is.”

The Colonel chuckled and shook his head at the Captain’s words. “I trust your improvisation skills, Alexei. Apologize for my absence, but they should understand that we are quite busy here indeed for me to leave in the middle of everything.”

***

Later that day, a small dropships took off from the airfield next to Belgorod (as the ‘capital in progress’ of the ‘country’ was referred to, with the official name to be still decided upon) and headed in the direction of Thorlund.

Princess Sarah couldn't help but notice how strongly Demetrios Raoul's office in the Palais du Parlement stank of cigarette smoke as she waited in its reception area to see the Pantocratorian Foreign Minister. When she was admitted into the meeting room, Raoul had just finished putting out another cigarette in the ashtray on the desk. He rose to his feet and indicated to the chair across the table from him.

"Good morning, Your Highness. Please sit down." he said.

"Thank you, Your Excellency." Sarah answered, graciously taking a seat.

"I take it this is about the Taraskovyan mercenaries?" Raoul enquired. "The ones who have now decided to set-up camp in Ambara?"

"It is, Your Excellency." Sarah said. "Although, what we are considering is rather more general than that."

"Indeed." Raoul said. "Look, I really have to stop you, mademoiselle, from calling me excellency all the time. I'm a minister, not a bishop. Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Well, you are an excellent minister." Sarah joked. "Yes, whatever you have on hand would be fine."

Raoul snorted in amusement as he looked to his personal assistant, just outside of the meeting room.

"Could you get me a coffee, Maria?" he asked her, before looking back to Sarah. "Coffee for you too, mademoiselle?"

"Certainly." Sarah answered.

"Make that two." Raoul instructed. Maria went off to get two coffees. "Anyway, I frankly don't see why we would want a bunch of heavily armed, trigger-happy Taraskovyans in Ambara."

"I think you judge them too harshly." Sarah said. "By all accounts they are peaceable, civilised men looking for a land where they can be freer than they were at home."

"Peaceable, civilised men with guns whose occupation consists of shooting people for money." Raoul observed. "And this is a principle, besides, not a specific case. Why would we want anybody else in Ambara?"

"Because big empty strips of land are rather conducive to hiding terrorists, for one. Because we have no interest in excluding non-hostile powers from lands we don't claim, for another."

"Of course we have an interest. Non-hostile powers today can become hostile powers tomorrow. Tarasovka especially, it's so politically unstable... and mercenaries to boot!" Raoul replied.

"They aren't part of Tarasovka." Sarah pointed out. "They are simply from there. Tarasovka has, as of yet, made no claim."

"As of yet. I wonder how long it will take for them to claim sovereignty over people who, after all, are their nationals. And if they aren't part of Tarasovka, that's even worse, they're even more unpredictable as mercenaries with no discernible allegiance." Raoul answered.

"His Majesty's Government considers them reasonable and trustworthy neighbours." Sarah stated.

"Yes, I know, and frankly that surprises me. On what grounds, mademoiselle, does the Danaan Government find these people trustworthy?" Raoul inquired.

"The assessments of Danaan personnel who have met with them." Sarah answered. "And a strategic analysis of the entire regional situation, as well as of the legal situation."

"Neither of the latter two analyses make these people trustworthy." Raoul replied. "Look, frankly, we are happy to leave this matter to Danaan judgement, but I know that the Pantocratorian Ambaran Government is strongly opposed to this settlement... Felicité Delabiere has been strongly advocating that Sahor become Danaan territory, and therefore, the Drapeur Government supports the Ambaran stance."

"This would lead to a rather vague legal arrangement, more reminiscent of the Knootian Federation than of any relationship the Danaan High Kingdom wishes to have with any territory where it claims authority."

"Why so? New local settlements such as this Taraskovyan group could become new principalities. It would be just as direct a relationship..." Raoul suggested.

"We have no legal right to claim authority over the Taraskovyan settlement in such an ex post facto manner." Sarah insisted.

"What legal right does anybody have to claim ownership over a piece of land?" Raoul replied with a question. "What right do they have to come and claim authority where they are?"

"Natural right." Sarah answered. "As it is understood in the Common Law and the generally accepted Law of Nations."

"All abstractions. The reality is that they have simple asserted their own right, just as the Resurgent Dream could." Raoul said. "If the Resurgent Dream would, it would make Pantocratorian Ambara feel a lot more secure..."

"And make them feel like colonial subjects." Sarah said desperately. "Why are you so adamant that we conquer the Tarasovkans? What harm have they done to anyone?"

"I told you, we'd be just as happy with whatever the Resurgent Dream found satisfactory." Raoul frowned. "Madame Delabiere told me that she had already discussed this with your Government..."

"And we agreed to proclaim authority over who settled in Sahor in the future." Sarah clarified.

"That wasn't what she said." Raoul replied.

"An official of the Danaan Government is currently speaking with her regarding our meeting with the Taraskovyans." Sarah said, as though that clarified things.

"I see. Well I have already talked about this at length with her, and I've even got support from most of the cabinet... so let me assure Your Highness that I am well acquainted with the minister's preference..." Raoul replied.

"Nonetheless, our representative informed her that that conversation was hypothetical until information had been gathered from the newcomers. She also said that you would be comfortable leaving settlement in Sahor to our judgment." Sarah pointed out.

"I just said that myself." Raoul pointed out in reply.

"The judgment of His Majesty's Government is that the Free Axemen should be recognised as holding their lands in their own right." Sarah said.

"Then we will accept that." Raoul nodded. "But Pantocratorian Ambara is going to be upset..."

Winter Palace,
Capital city of Vigvar

The clouds began to vanish, revealing the stars which threw their silvery light on the snow down below. Evening had come. In the Great Gardens, staff was busy cleaning out the remnants of a particularly snowy day, whilst the leib-Guards and the wolves went on with their patrols as usual, seemingly unaffected by the snow.

In one of the many rooms dispersed throughout the rather impressive complex that was the Winter Palace, several key ministers gathered informally in company of the Grand Duke to discuss the latest issue, the one of a certain group of mercenaries building a permanent settlement on a certain continent.

“This Abt business seems to be more solid than the latest similar event… what was it already…” Duke Orlov, the Minister of Defence, frowned and clacked his fingers trying to remember the name of a rogue colony set up by some Taraskovyan activists on a random Sisgardian island.

“The Republic of Peace and Prosperity,” High Duke Tal-Nash, the Minister of Interior, snorted and shook his head, remembering seeing video footage of Taraskovyan police dismantling the colony and bringing the activists home. Video footage filmed by the policemen themselves and part of the report which was delivered to the Minister. “Some hippies from the National Party for Universal Happiness set it up.”

“Indeed, and they found nothing better to do than take hostage two members of the Fiscal Control that came on the island for inspection,” the Minister of Foreign Affairs, High Count Khat, smiled and inclined his head. “I believe it did not take much to resolve the dispute.”

“Two Special Intervention Eskadrons and a prison ship with its crew,” High Duke Tal-Nash nodded. “This time, however, we’ll need something more than the aforementioned personnel to dislodge the Axemen…”

“The question is whether we want to dislodge them at all…” The Grand Duke said pensively, laying his glass of cognac on the table beside him and looking at his Ministers. “This Abt is the only one of all the recent attempts that actually has a sense and looks set to last. We could actually use it to prevent any further random settlements popping up throughout the globe…”

“Make Abt into a dump for all those republicans, Your Highness?” Karth Tal-Nash arched an eyebrow.

“In a way, yes… if we already have a Taraskovyan Republic somewhere, that is stable and on the way to prosperity, it might lure other romantics there. And it shall be much easier to control them if they are all in a single spot…” Mikhail arched a brow pensively, as his mind designed various schematics and plots. “We could crush the Axemen without any trouble, but that would surely be bad for our relations with the Guild of Mercenaries.”

“Indeed, my sources indicate that the Guild is debating moving in diplomatically and politically in favour of the Axemen. After all, the Free Axemen Corps was one of their best combat and guerilla warfare units… Attacking them would surely hurt our relations with the Guild.”

“And inner instability is the last thing we need right now,” Ithun Khat agreed with the Minister of Interior. “This is also a tricky situation, Your Highness. Maybe Abt shall turn into a magnet for romantics, or maybe it shall turn into a precedent for the appearance of other similar projects. And our forces shall than have a busy time running down and dismantling the various settlements. As of Abt itself, there are certain indications that the Pantocratorians might be opposed to it. If they move against Abt before these officially proclaim independence and renounce their Taraskovyan citizenship, we shall be forced to intervene and defend our citizens, even if we would better see them leave…”

“I know all this, Ithun. Dismantling them now is problematic, dismantling them after they declare independence is even more so…” The Grand Duke nodded and smiled. “I have the National Security working on the issue and fishing for any bit of valuable information they can find. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs is also to probe the ground, softly, without arising too much attention. As of the army, I want a SODAT regiment on stand by for immediate deployment upon my orders.”

The Ministers inclined their heads in sign of understanding, with the Grand Duke pausing to think things over once more. “Well, now we concentrate our intelligence efforts on the issue. I shall meet with you again at a later date to discuss the issue. For now, enjoy the rest of the evening.”

[OOC: Well, if the claimage of knowing possible Pantocratorian intentions is over the line, just poke me and I'll edit something else in place.]

[OOC: As per agreement with TRD, rushing things a bit in order not to stagnate.]

Oath of Abjuration

21 April 1149 After Strife

The free people of Abt to His Highness the Grand Duke Mikhail II of all Taraskovya, ruler of many realms and peoples, hereby declare:

Faithfully have we and our fathers and their fathers before them served the Grand Dukes, valiantly have they fought and hard have they laboured for Taraskovya, for its might and prosperity. And proud we are of our legacy and of our roots.

It is known to all that in unity is strength, yet at times parting serves the interests of involved parties better than a forced union. The people of Abt desire to shape their own destiny, to be their own masters; as such the supremacy of Your Highness above us is impossible. We hold Your Highness and the Grand Duchy no enmity and are only hoping for friendship to exist between Taraskovya and Abt, yet we cannot bear to have the Grand Duchy above us.

It is, thus, that we solemnly abjure our allegiance to Your Highness and to the Grand Duchy, that we abjure our Taraskovyan citizenship. The Taraskovyan people shall not be held responsible for any action we take, nor shall we be held responsible for any actions Taraskovya shall take.

Our hopes lie in that Your Highness understands our decision and in the peaceful recognition of our right to shape our own destiny as we deem necessary.

Written and sealed on this 21st of April of the year 1149 After Strife, indorsed by the people of Abt and signed by A. Kelberath.

[OOC: Well, a tad too much out of the blue, but that's how it shall be until I get a sudden inspiration to write a big huge fancy thingy. Which is highely unlikely anyway ;)

OH, and in case, that oath thing was published publicly, not send privately.]

.
Grand Duke of all Taraskovya
Vigvar Winter Palace

Acceptance of the Oath of Abjuration by the People of Abt

23 April 1149 After Strife

The Grand Duke of all Taraskovya to the People of Abt hereby declares:

In light of your desire to be free of the Grand Duchy, I and the Grand Ducal Parliament convened and agreed to fulfill your wish for independence. From here on, you are Taraskovyans no more and the Grand Duchy and I bear no obligation towards you, nor do you bear any obligation towards us.

Yet, even as I set you free, I do so not in enmity, but in friendship. Let it be known that whoever seeks to exploit your current weakness shall be countered by the Grand Duchy and by the Taraskovyan People in its full might. The Grand Duchy remembers your services and those of your fathers before you, and we shall not abandon you to ill fate.

Walk free and tall now and may the Gods you pray to protect you,
Grand Duke Mikhail II of all Taraskovya

[OOC: And yet again, something small since my writing muse is somewhere over the hills and far away :\ Abt is officially independent now. Yay!]