Valenvaryon
11-06-2004, 07:34
Antoin Mittleman slammed his fist down on the polished mahogany tabletop, his face red with rage.
"THOSE BASTARDS!" A fine mist of saliva settled on the table. "The Audacity! Those Leumahn scum, this is exactly the sort of thing they would stoop to! A pre-emptive stealth attack on our fleet, and then publicly denying anything! This is an OUTRAGE!!!". His pudgy fist descended upon the table once more, sending papers skitting in all directions.
Demoire thoughtfully leaned back into his leather chair, hands forming a pyrmaid in front of his thoughtful face.
"It wasn't Leumah who attacked our ships, Mittleman." Contemplative eyes staring at the furious man.
"What are you talking about? Of course it was Leumah! We must strike back at once!"
Demoire moved forward, planting his hands on the desk. "Don't be blind Mittleman, this is far more subtle than you imagine. That strike couldn't have been from Leumah. Our radar and sonar equipment is from the same source's as theirs, they couldn't have the technology to slip past us. The attack was prepared, pre-planned, and executed by someone else."
"But.. but..." Mittleman blubbered. "It... Who? If you're so sure that it wasn't the Leumahn slimebags then enlighten me, oh great advisor!" Eyes narrowing in a malignant stare, arms folded smugly across his bulging chest.
"Valen."
"Impossible."
"Unexpected."
"They wouldn't..."
"They did."
As reality dawned on Mittleman, his anger was replaced by a cold foreboding. "But Presidente Alesandro already issued his press statement to Leumah, declaring his own outrage and intentions to retaliate at once. He can't just retract that statement, it would be political suicide. 'Oh sorry, it wasn't Leumah, it was valen. We're not attacking L, we're attacking V now, we were wrong, so awfully sorry.' We can't do that!!!" The chair sqeuaked in protest as Mittleman sank back into it. "How are we going to tell Alesandro?"
"How are YOU going to tell the Presidente."
"Me? But, I... you..."
A cold smile. "You're his relations advisor. I'm sure you can figure something out. I'll be in my office."
* * *
A Valenvaryon Press Conference. Albash was making a statement. A hundred video cameras, a thousand microphones, uncountable reporters all craned towards the podium, hanging off every word.
"...That this unprovoked attack upon the Voilian Navy must not go ignored. Although La Voile may not have been right to make his declaration of attack upon Leumah, it must be recognized that the first blood was drawn by Leumah. This is a historic, and a sad day ladies and gentlemen. Let us hope that this can be somehow settled without the need for more bloodshed. I call upon Aetherios to approach this situation, and I here and now pledge the Valenvaryon Protectorate's military might to the cause of Aetherios. We will support his actions, and act in any way which will assist him. Thank you."
"THOSE BASTARDS!" A fine mist of saliva settled on the table. "The Audacity! Those Leumahn scum, this is exactly the sort of thing they would stoop to! A pre-emptive stealth attack on our fleet, and then publicly denying anything! This is an OUTRAGE!!!". His pudgy fist descended upon the table once more, sending papers skitting in all directions.
Demoire thoughtfully leaned back into his leather chair, hands forming a pyrmaid in front of his thoughtful face.
"It wasn't Leumah who attacked our ships, Mittleman." Contemplative eyes staring at the furious man.
"What are you talking about? Of course it was Leumah! We must strike back at once!"
Demoire moved forward, planting his hands on the desk. "Don't be blind Mittleman, this is far more subtle than you imagine. That strike couldn't have been from Leumah. Our radar and sonar equipment is from the same source's as theirs, they couldn't have the technology to slip past us. The attack was prepared, pre-planned, and executed by someone else."
"But.. but..." Mittleman blubbered. "It... Who? If you're so sure that it wasn't the Leumahn slimebags then enlighten me, oh great advisor!" Eyes narrowing in a malignant stare, arms folded smugly across his bulging chest.
"Valen."
"Impossible."
"Unexpected."
"They wouldn't..."
"They did."
As reality dawned on Mittleman, his anger was replaced by a cold foreboding. "But Presidente Alesandro already issued his press statement to Leumah, declaring his own outrage and intentions to retaliate at once. He can't just retract that statement, it would be political suicide. 'Oh sorry, it wasn't Leumah, it was valen. We're not attacking L, we're attacking V now, we were wrong, so awfully sorry.' We can't do that!!!" The chair sqeuaked in protest as Mittleman sank back into it. "How are we going to tell Alesandro?"
"How are YOU going to tell the Presidente."
"Me? But, I... you..."
A cold smile. "You're his relations advisor. I'm sure you can figure something out. I'll be in my office."
* * *
A Valenvaryon Press Conference. Albash was making a statement. A hundred video cameras, a thousand microphones, uncountable reporters all craned towards the podium, hanging off every word.
"...That this unprovoked attack upon the Voilian Navy must not go ignored. Although La Voile may not have been right to make his declaration of attack upon Leumah, it must be recognized that the first blood was drawn by Leumah. This is a historic, and a sad day ladies and gentlemen. Let us hope that this can be somehow settled without the need for more bloodshed. I call upon Aetherios to approach this situation, and I here and now pledge the Valenvaryon Protectorate's military might to the cause of Aetherios. We will support his actions, and act in any way which will assist him. Thank you."