Tarasovka
03-06-2007, 21:24
“If the war by Heaven’s gate released desire?
In the line of fire someone must have known,
That a human heart demands to be admired.
But in the Center of the Universe
We are all alone.”
Winter Palace, Vigvar, Taraskovya, Some Days Ago
The Great Gardens around the Winter Palace were as beautiful as ever in that time of the year. Numerous flowers and trees blossomed, pleasant aromas filled the air and the eyes were delighted by the pleasant colours of the flowers mixing into the general background of green. And the charming bird songs were sweet to the ears.
“Beautiful country that is, Spanjaboria,” Vethara (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vethara_Shakhovskaya) said as she walked by her brother. The two siblings did not have much time to spend together with their respective duties, and so a little walk in the Gardens before Mikhail departed for official business was enjoyed by both. “Maybe I should have gone there with you.”
“Did you not have an appointment in Bilbtoria in several days time, Sister?” Mikhail (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Mikhail_II_Shakhovskoy) arched an eyebrow looking at the young woman.
“Appointment… pfffft…” the Archduchess frowned. “I simply had an invitation from Minerva and Prince Paul to visit that corner of the Confederated Peoples. Nothing really official.”
The Grand Duke smiled at his sister. His eyes fixed for a second upon a squirrel that ran from one tree to the other, gave the two humans a curious look, before sprinting up and vanishing in the leaves. Myriads of little creatures inhabited the gigantic gardens around the seat of Taraskovyan power, making the place even more beautiful.
“You are the Heiress Presumptive to the throne, Vetha,” he spoke. “Even your private visits have an official connotation.”
“I know, Brother. And I have to admit that I crave for the day you have enough children to push me far down the ladder,” she said with a laughter.
Mikhail smirked and shook his head. Indeed, there were still no heirs to be foreseen. He could not settle on a single woman, despite having them all at his whim. He was young, handsome, powerful. One of the most powerful persons in the galaxy, no less. But as often, in the center of the universe one is all alone.
“Someday, Sister. Someday,” the Grand Duke spoke. “In the meantime, try not to embarass me with Bilbtoria.”
“Have I ever embarassed you, Brother?”
“Never. And this is the problem. I admit I wish you did for once, because your perfection is boring at times.”
* * *
Spanjaboria, Western Atlantic, Three Hundred Years Ago
The story says that the events happened three hundred years ago. The Grand Duke of all Taraskovya was so impressed with the southern wine rich lands of Spanjaboria, that he desired them for his own. And so his host was rallied, his fleet was gathered and the Taraskovyan force set sail to new conquests and battle glory.
At least that was the initial plan. Indeed, when the Taraskovyan fleet approached the shores unchallenged and the mighty host debarked, it fell right in the middle of some festival celebrations. Taraskovyan soldiers, loyal to the ancestral tradition of “Party first, find reason later”, found nothing best but to join in the drinking and dancing. The lust for blood vanished immediately as the Grand Duke was left facepalming on the deck of his flagship.
And this is how the first diplomatic relations between Taraskovya and Spanjaboria were established. Or, at least, this is what the legend told. How the real events unfolded was clouded in the mists of history.
As years passed on, stronger ties developed between the two countries. Nordic Taraskovya was interested in having a fertile southern ally to provide all the plant cultures that just didn’t want to grow up north. While Spanjaborians made excellent wine and tasty bread, they weren’t really proficient as warriors. Taraskovyans, on the other hand, lacked many natural resources, but had enough steel to forge daggers even for their newborns.
The two opposites met ideally. Taraskovyans provided military protection to Spanjaborians, detaching a host to dissuade any would be invaders. The locals paid for the services not in gold, but in crops and wine. The bilateral ties came to be known as the “Tovarishestvo” in Taraskovya, the Comraderie.
Today, Taraskovya had expanded far beyond its northern mountains. It had colonies spread throughout the galaxy; it had numerous holdings on Earth itself. And yet, sweet Spanjaborian wine was still as popular a drink with Taraskovyans as it was centuries ago. The bilateral ties with the southern ally were perpetuated.
The Taraskovyan National Defence Forces still had a presence in the country, organized as the Western Atlantic Command, Home Theatre. Just that the “crops tribute” was replaced with a free trade area to fulfill the realities of a modern and dynamic world, as well as of a privatized and liberalized agricultural sector.
* * *
San Solanki, Spanjaboria, Today
On the last celebrations of a centenary in bilateral relations (which, quite obviously, took place a hundred years ago), it was the Monarch of Spanjaboria that came to Vigvar. There was a parade of the Leib Guard (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Leib_Guard), parties, celebrations, parties, some official events, parties. It was Vigvar after all, the capital of Taraskovya, where party comes first, reason to party comes never. Needless to say record amounts of Spanjaborian wines were consumed, making the southern vineyards either happy with extra income.
For the event celebrating the Three Hundred Years it was, thus, the turn of the Taraskovyan ruler to make a trip to San Solanki, the capital of Spanjaboria. There would be official ceremonies and parties. And, profiting from the opportunity, the Grand Duke also decided to just take a couple days off while the public was busy debating the reorganization of his vast Empire In Denial. Appropriate arrangements have been taken care of with the Spanjaborian side.
Mikhail had a competent government in place, a skilled Parliament and generally more or less responsible citizens. More or less, because every once in a while they got bored with peaceful life and spiced things up by killing each other. But with the Plague only ten years behind, the scars left by the tremendous civil war still healing, Taraskovyans were as peace loving as never before. He could allow himself some free time after the official proceedings.
In the line of fire someone must have known,
That a human heart demands to be admired.
But in the Center of the Universe
We are all alone.”
Winter Palace, Vigvar, Taraskovya, Some Days Ago
The Great Gardens around the Winter Palace were as beautiful as ever in that time of the year. Numerous flowers and trees blossomed, pleasant aromas filled the air and the eyes were delighted by the pleasant colours of the flowers mixing into the general background of green. And the charming bird songs were sweet to the ears.
“Beautiful country that is, Spanjaboria,” Vethara (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vethara_Shakhovskaya) said as she walked by her brother. The two siblings did not have much time to spend together with their respective duties, and so a little walk in the Gardens before Mikhail departed for official business was enjoyed by both. “Maybe I should have gone there with you.”
“Did you not have an appointment in Bilbtoria in several days time, Sister?” Mikhail (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Mikhail_II_Shakhovskoy) arched an eyebrow looking at the young woman.
“Appointment… pfffft…” the Archduchess frowned. “I simply had an invitation from Minerva and Prince Paul to visit that corner of the Confederated Peoples. Nothing really official.”
The Grand Duke smiled at his sister. His eyes fixed for a second upon a squirrel that ran from one tree to the other, gave the two humans a curious look, before sprinting up and vanishing in the leaves. Myriads of little creatures inhabited the gigantic gardens around the seat of Taraskovyan power, making the place even more beautiful.
“You are the Heiress Presumptive to the throne, Vetha,” he spoke. “Even your private visits have an official connotation.”
“I know, Brother. And I have to admit that I crave for the day you have enough children to push me far down the ladder,” she said with a laughter.
Mikhail smirked and shook his head. Indeed, there were still no heirs to be foreseen. He could not settle on a single woman, despite having them all at his whim. He was young, handsome, powerful. One of the most powerful persons in the galaxy, no less. But as often, in the center of the universe one is all alone.
“Someday, Sister. Someday,” the Grand Duke spoke. “In the meantime, try not to embarass me with Bilbtoria.”
“Have I ever embarassed you, Brother?”
“Never. And this is the problem. I admit I wish you did for once, because your perfection is boring at times.”
* * *
Spanjaboria, Western Atlantic, Three Hundred Years Ago
The story says that the events happened three hundred years ago. The Grand Duke of all Taraskovya was so impressed with the southern wine rich lands of Spanjaboria, that he desired them for his own. And so his host was rallied, his fleet was gathered and the Taraskovyan force set sail to new conquests and battle glory.
At least that was the initial plan. Indeed, when the Taraskovyan fleet approached the shores unchallenged and the mighty host debarked, it fell right in the middle of some festival celebrations. Taraskovyan soldiers, loyal to the ancestral tradition of “Party first, find reason later”, found nothing best but to join in the drinking and dancing. The lust for blood vanished immediately as the Grand Duke was left facepalming on the deck of his flagship.
And this is how the first diplomatic relations between Taraskovya and Spanjaboria were established. Or, at least, this is what the legend told. How the real events unfolded was clouded in the mists of history.
As years passed on, stronger ties developed between the two countries. Nordic Taraskovya was interested in having a fertile southern ally to provide all the plant cultures that just didn’t want to grow up north. While Spanjaborians made excellent wine and tasty bread, they weren’t really proficient as warriors. Taraskovyans, on the other hand, lacked many natural resources, but had enough steel to forge daggers even for their newborns.
The two opposites met ideally. Taraskovyans provided military protection to Spanjaborians, detaching a host to dissuade any would be invaders. The locals paid for the services not in gold, but in crops and wine. The bilateral ties came to be known as the “Tovarishestvo” in Taraskovya, the Comraderie.
Today, Taraskovya had expanded far beyond its northern mountains. It had colonies spread throughout the galaxy; it had numerous holdings on Earth itself. And yet, sweet Spanjaborian wine was still as popular a drink with Taraskovyans as it was centuries ago. The bilateral ties with the southern ally were perpetuated.
The Taraskovyan National Defence Forces still had a presence in the country, organized as the Western Atlantic Command, Home Theatre. Just that the “crops tribute” was replaced with a free trade area to fulfill the realities of a modern and dynamic world, as well as of a privatized and liberalized agricultural sector.
* * *
San Solanki, Spanjaboria, Today
On the last celebrations of a centenary in bilateral relations (which, quite obviously, took place a hundred years ago), it was the Monarch of Spanjaboria that came to Vigvar. There was a parade of the Leib Guard (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Leib_Guard), parties, celebrations, parties, some official events, parties. It was Vigvar after all, the capital of Taraskovya, where party comes first, reason to party comes never. Needless to say record amounts of Spanjaborian wines were consumed, making the southern vineyards either happy with extra income.
For the event celebrating the Three Hundred Years it was, thus, the turn of the Taraskovyan ruler to make a trip to San Solanki, the capital of Spanjaboria. There would be official ceremonies and parties. And, profiting from the opportunity, the Grand Duke also decided to just take a couple days off while the public was busy debating the reorganization of his vast Empire In Denial. Appropriate arrangements have been taken care of with the Spanjaborian side.
Mikhail had a competent government in place, a skilled Parliament and generally more or less responsible citizens. More or less, because every once in a while they got bored with peaceful life and spiced things up by killing each other. But with the Plague only ten years behind, the scars left by the tremendous civil war still healing, Taraskovyans were as peace loving as never before. He could allow himself some free time after the official proceedings.