NationStates Jolt Archive

The relative calm and quiet that spread across the galaxy these days as part of the Pax Amicana was refreshing. No longer did existential threats to all of Tiburon and her allies ooze out of every object that bent the fabric of spacetime; rather, peace, security, and prosperity were the orders of the day. While before, Tiburonese executive leaders had to worry about flicking off the Skeelzanian subnuisance from Neptune and threats on Mars (of course on Mars, always on Mars) threatening to bungle up the nice, orderly flow of trade and prosperity everyone had going and the Antarans threatening, any second now, to end Civilization As We Know It, now they had time to relax. Take in the fresh morning air. They even had time to try and create a pseudo-union with Scolopendra, and you know your politicians are getting bored when they have time to propose things like single markets and integrated defense structures.

With greater focus on foreign relations comes greater scrutiny, and this scrutiny picks up a particular catch that previous levels of scrutiny had missed; namely, the fact that relations with certain states were merely cordial or friendly where they should be much higher. Take Tiburonese relations with the Federation of Sentient Peoples, for instance. These two countries have a history of similar alignment on issues, Tiburon's support for the FSP's blockade of Mars during the Pilonese Plague Crisis being only the most recent in a string of examples. Not to mention the fact that they used to be Triumvirate members!

Rueful staffers of the Division of State, filled with rue, are chewed out by even more rueful superiors, filled with even more rue. The fact that the FSP was a Federation as well would not be lost on the Daily Post, who were preparing to write articles about a "Federation of Federations" if President Tomoyasu's negotiations went successfully, the fact that this was nothing close to the proposed Tibupendran Union notwithstanding. To be followed shortly, of course, by the head of the Society of Professional Journalists breaking the Daily Post's editor's kneecaps. Again. Whoever said journalistic standards were on the decline? In any case, the problem of merely cordial relations has got to be fixed, and this means an invitation to the capital of Tiburon, New York City.

[Sent Via D-Net]
[From: Rakesh Tomoyasu, President of the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon]
[To: D'Ron Christopher Smith, President of the Federation of Sentient Peoples]
[Subject: Relations]
[Classification: Declassified]

President Smith,

Given the long history of friendly relations between our nations as well as the common strategic interests our nations share- and have historically shared- I believe the establishment of solid relations to the point of full military relations and full economic relations between our nations is an action that has long been overdue. It is my firm opinion that such relations represent the natural progression of USF-FSP relations, and to this end, I would be most grateful if you were to accept my invitation to my office New York City to discuss a common future for our nations.

Sincerely,
Rakesh Tomoyasu,
President,
The United Solaris Federation of Tiburon

The process by which a diplomatic communiqué of the nature of the one sent by the United Solaris Federation of Tiburon was handled was probably not unique by any means. First, it arrived on the desk of a staffer. As an electronic communication, this was, of course, a virtual desk, represented by a hologram suspended in midair over physical desk. As it was addressed openly to the President, this staffer worked in the underground beneath Imperial House, rather than in the downtown multikilometer office tower owned by the International Relations Division, who would normally handle such things.

As such, the staffer in Imperial House routed the correspondence to a staffer of similar, unimportant rank over in the IRD tower, thereby consuming a full day after receipt of the message. The next day, the staffer routed the message to his boss, who, naturally, had slightly less work at better pay, who read it and sent the message on to her boss, who, naturally, had even less work at even better pay, and so on and so forth until the message cleared into the level of people who actually got paid commensurate with the amount of work and responsibility that they had.

Given that this message was, in its essence, a request for an alliance, that person happened to Second Ambassador Bruce Reynolds, Undersecretary for Alliance Relations. After due consideration of about two hours, he called his boss, First Ambassador and Minister of International Relations Johnathan Currey, catching the other man just as he was about to leave for lunch. As it was, lunch got ordered in to the office, and that afternoon, both men met with the Imperial President to present their thoughts on the matter and discuss the possibilities.

As it fit with the President’s general policy of trying to better relations with nations of the Triumvirate of Yut after the Federation’s abrupt departure under unhappy terms some years prior, it was eventually concluded that the invitation would be accepted. Once the senior members of the government had established that this was to be done, the responsibility was shuffled back down onto senior flunkies.

These senior flunkies were appointment secretaries, and they were given instructions to clear the schedules of the President, the First Lady, the First Son, and Jessica Smith, if she was available. The Imperial President would not pull his sister out of an assignment which she had received through normal channels. These were to be coordinated with the schedule of President Rakesh Tomoyasu in such a way as a formal visit of state could take place.

Eventually, of course, a date was decided upon, and with much fanfare, the Forbidden Honor departed from underneath the back lawn of Imperial House with its usual escort of a squadron of fighters in Presidential Guard colors. Up through the atmosphere, into the midst of Home Fleet, and then off to Tiburon they went.

And at the appointed moment, the large black and gold craft with its Sabre-class fighter-interceptors attendants wearing the Sword and Stars motif, touched down precisely in the location designated. Inside the ship, Honor crooned, “We’re heerrrrreeee,” and then giggled as if it were some secret.

D’ron merely rolled his eyes and prepared to disembark, accompanied by his family.