NationStates Jolt Archive

The Royal Palace, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Wednesday 6th October.

Prime Minister Juan Malek walked along the lavish hallways of the Royal Palace, stopping briefly at security doors to slide his ID card through them. As he got closer to the seventh floor, where the King and the rest of the Royal Family had their own personal chambers, Malek was searched several different times, and ushered through two anti-decontamination chambers. He may have been the Prime Minister, but that didn’t elevate him from these procedures. It did, however, give him access that only three people outside of the Royal Family had. The only other two people allowed this far inside the palace were the general, and the leader of the King’s personal guard. Malek stepped through another security door and adjusted his suit.
The Prime Minister smoothed down his hair, and walked along the hallway that lead to the meeting chambers of His Majesty, King Daniel Renegar. The large oaken door in front of him was painstakingly engraved. He knocked upon it. Twice. The sound boomed out and then echoed down the hallway. He waited for a few moments, and then heard the King’s voice.
“Juan? Is that you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Malek heard the sound of the bolts being taken off, and then the large door swung inwards, revealing the King. Since he was not on show to the public, he was wearing none of the expensive, awe-inspiring robes, or the golden crown. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, but he still had the air of a monarch. Malek bowed.
“Come in, Juan, come in,” King Renegar said cheerfully, “I haven’t spoken to you for some time.”
“Ah, yes, it’s been busy,” Malek replied, stepping inside. The King shut the door carefully behind him.
“I trust you gave the order to ensure there was no deforestation in our rainforests?” The King asked.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Malek nodded.
“Deforestation,” King Renegar scoffed, “In a beautiful rainforest. I won’t have any of that in Nypolina.”
“Residents are reporting a twenty percent increase in tourism in those areas also.”
“Marvellous,” the King grinned, “Please, follow me.”
Malek followed the King to a massive lounge, complete with luxurious carpets, expensive sofas, and an ornately carved fireplace, in which a fire crackled. There was a huge television mounted on one of the walls.
“Please, sit down,” The King said amiably, “glass of something?”
“No, thank you, Your Majesty,” Malek declined politely, sitting on one of the sofas.
“So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” The King asked.
“Well, Your Majesty,” Malek began, and faltered. The King’s eighteen year old daughter had entered the room through a different door. She was wearing a blue silk dress, which flowed about her as she walked. Malek stood up, as it was customary to do, and bowed to her. The Princess smiled.
“There really is no need for that, Juan,” she said, and then turned to her father, “Daddy, have you seen my comb? I cannot find it anywhere.”
The King gave Malek a long-suffering grin, and then turned to his daughter.
“I am very busy, my dear,” he said, “but I did see your sister using it this morning.”
“Oh well, really,” The Princess said indignantly, “she ought to ask!”
The Princess left the room, and Juan sat down again, self-consciously adjusting his suit.
“Do carry on,” The King said, smiling.
“Well, Your Majesty, as you know, we are surrounded by many powerful nations, and Nypolina is a proud, but small nation, and-”
“Spare me the rhetoric, Juan, please.”
“Sorry, Your Majesty. Our nation is small compared to some of those surrounding us, and I believe it is about the time we should start looking for allies.”
“Indeed,” the King said thoughtfully, “what brings you to this now?”
“As you have seen in the news, war seems to be declared every day, and it would seem prudent to have some peaceful, but powerful nations as our allies, so we have someone to turn to in times of crisis. After all, our military is small and disorganised.”
“You’re right,” the King agreed, “but who to choose? And how to persuade them to be our ally?”
“We are a vulnerable nation. Hopefully some of the kinder, peaceful nations will see fit to be our ally,”
“We can’t just choose any old nation, though, you know that.”
“Of course not,” Malek said, “we must select a suitable candidate.”
“Define suitable.”
“Trustworthy, powerful, peaceful, wealthy.”
“Pretty much what I was thinking.”
“So I suggest that we send out a message to other nations, detailing our intentions to find a good ally, and that we most of all encourage peace.”
“That’s true. Military spending is on the increase though, General Gale informed me recently.”
“Only in the interests of defence, Your Majesty.”
“Of course,” King Renegar nodded, “so when do you plan to begin searching for allies?”
“Under your orders, almost immediately,” Malek replied, “I can have messages sent out this evening.”
“Good. Do it. Hopefully we will receive some replies from some of the nations within the week. Then we will review them, alright?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Malek stood up, and the King walked with him to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. Malek bowed.
“I’ll contact you when we hopefully receive some replies,” Malek assured the King.
“Good. Could you also tell General Gale to come and see me soon, please? I need to speak to her about environmental impacts of military movement in the rainforest.”
“I’ll tell her, Your Majesty,”
“Thanks, Juan,” The King of Nypolina grinned, “See you later.”
Malek nodded, and stepped through into the hallway. The King shut the door behind him.
The Prime Minister walked along towards the security door, musing over which nations to send messages out to first. He smiled. Hopefully, before the end of the week, Nypolina might have some peaceful allies.


News Broadcast from the NBC, (Nypolina Broadcasting Company) broadcast nationwide at 6:30pm.

Today, our government and our illustrious King have sent out messages to the surrounding nations, encouraging peaceful co-existence with our neighbours. Some are saying this may be the beginning of preparation for war in the future, but the government ensures that this plan is only in the interests of peace. We go now to Edward Liadan, who is outside the governmental offices with one of the officials. Edward.

“Yes, Sally, I’m here, outside the offices with Mr. Carlos Etheridge, an official overseeing these messages being sent out. Mr Etheridge, what do you have to say about this speculation that this is the beginning of a preparation for military action on our part in the future?”
“I’d say that it was ridiculous. That is totally unfounded.”
“You can assure us of that?”
“Of course. This is all in the interests of peace. We’re seeking peaceful allies for the good of Nypolina, and to ensure peaceful relations overall.”
“Thank you, Mr Etheridge.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, Sally, there you have it. All this really is in the interests of peace. Back to you in the studio.”

“Thank you, Edward, and now, today’s debate, yes or no to Free Speech? Should people be allowed to say what they think? Or should it be regulated? You decide, after the break."

Dear sir,
I have heard of your intentions to seek allies through the international news. In these times it is a wise leader who sees that they need friends on their side. Especially a smaller nation such as yours.
Getting to the point of my letter, I would like to offer you alliance with Sunset Sea. We are devoted to peace and freedom, and like you, excercise care and respect for our natural environment.
I understand the need for careful consideration of all offers such as these but I hope to receive a reply soon.

Sincerely,
Jarisa Paris
Foreign Secretary of Sunset Sea

OOC: Poor guy, you wrote ALL that and only one person has replied, that REALLY sucks.

IC: Kriegorgrad is interested in opening relations with Nypolina. Trade in paticular holds are intrest.

OOC: Here, hopefully you'll find this a quality reply

IC:
OIS Command Center
Valhalla Command Center
Transnapastain

Colonel Fires walked down the hallways of the Valhalla command center, his footfalls echoing off the black marble floor, and the white walks around him. As he reached a small lobby, he stopped at a guard station. Beyond it, were the offices of the Military High Command. There were five offices in all, arrayed around a center commons area. The seal of the OIS was embedded in the marble floor, a 12 pointed star with the Transnapastani Eagle in the center.

He stopped at the guard station, and removed his ID card, sliding it through the reader. The guard behind the bullet-proof class spoke through the microphone.

“Alright, sir, please step forward for scanning.”

Fires stepped forward, and stopped, placing his arms at his side. He was standing in what looked like a normal metal detector, though, when he stopped, lights blinked on, and the scanners began to move over him, after a moment, a female computerized voice declared

“Scan complete, prepare for retinal scan.”

A small eyepiece dropped from the top of the scanner, and leveled itself with Fires’ eyes, he placed his eyes in the eyepiece, and, after another few moments, the machine retracted itself back into the top of the scanner.

“Scan Complete, Identity confirmed, Welcome, Colonel Fires. Have a nice day, sir”

Thank you.” Fires said as he nodded to the guard, saluting him as we walked past. He went directly ahead and entered the office directly across from the scanner. He walked into the outer waiting area, and the secretary looked up from her computer.

“Hello Colonel, The General is ready to see you.” She said

“Thank you” he replied, and entered the room. The General’s office was large and spacious. If this complex weren’t underground, it would have a nice scenic overlook of the city, instead, holographic projectors had been placed in the wall, and the scene could be changed at will. Currently, the scene showed crystal clear waters, and a white sand beach below. General Davis sat at the large oak desk, a rather expensive desk, given that real wood was quite a commodity and valuable in Transnapastain. Behind it, on either side of the “window” we’re two flags, one bearing the seal of the OIS, the other, the national flag. General Davis looked up for him work, and addressed Fires.

“Good to see you Gregory, what have you to report?” he asked

“Sir, We’ve received a message from a nation known as Nypolina, seems it was not directed at us, per se, but, a general message to the world. They’re seeking allies, peaceful allies.” Reported Colonel Fires.

“Ah, indeed? We’ll what do we have on them?” asked the General thoughtfully.

Fires handed the General a PDA, and outlined the information on it. “Not much, small nation, roughly 18 million people, dissimilar government style to our own, Economy rated by the UN as “fair”. Private corporations are outlawed, but economic reports a black market for Gambling, Very little crime, and an above average tax rate.”

“I see, well, we could certainly help them stimulate their economy with trade goods and technical assistance, So be it, send a message to their leader, and tell them we’re willing to enter into negotiations.” Said the general, as he stroked his chin

“Yes sir.” Replied the Colonel, who saluted and left the room.

Later that night

Hello,

We, the Directorate Nation of Transnapastain, are interested in opening diplomatic and economic relations with your nation, and are willing to enter negotiations, we await your reply, thank you.

Signed,
General Jonathan Davis
Acting Executer of Transnapastain
Commander of the Office of Internal Security.

Ab-shalom and greetings,

It is the desire of the Sultanate of Vastiva to open and maintain strong diplomatic and economic relations with all nations desirous of such. We therefore offer an exchange of embassies and ambassadors, and a beginning of free trade between our nations.

If this meets with your approval, please communicate by any means.

Go in Peace,

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

The Royal Palace, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Thursday 7th October.

Juan Malek sat at the enormous table in the political meeting chambers of the Royal Palace. The chambers were on the fifth floor, and Malek and the other officials had decided to hold the meeting here, rather than in the government offices, due to the extensive media interest. If they were going to be choosing nations to ally with, as Carlos Etheridge had put it, they didn’t want the media knowing it before they did.
Malek was a confident man, but he was nervous despite himself. King Renegar was trusting him to select the right candidates for an alliance, and there were many to consider. Malek held up a hand for quiet, because all of the six officials were talking at once. They fell silent, looking at the Prime Minister expectantly.
“Here we have copies of the reports for each candidate nation,” Malek said briskly, sliding them to each official, “Including their communications concerning the subject of an alliance, and information on the individual nations themselves.”
Malek stared around at each of the officials as they flicked through the reports. Nypolina did not have a fixed government structure; instead, there were various officials, and they moved position and subject often. Carlos Etheridge was currently doing public relations, but he also worked as the official in charge of foreign relations, environmental policies, and industrial surveillance. On the same note, some of the other officials were also involved in those too. The result of this disorganization was a mountain of paperwork.
“Taken a look?” Malek continued, and the officials nodded, “Good.”
“The amount of nations who contacted us in the twenty-four hours after sending the messages is staggering,” remarked Walter Lindeman, one of the officials in charge of transport, pushing his glasses up his long nose and squinting at the reports.
“Indeed it is,” agreed Harold Donohue, official for education, “this is a week’s worth of paperwork, Juan.”
Malek shook his head.
“We’ve narrowed it down, so far, to three different candidates, so concentrate on those. They are as follows; The Free Land of Sunset Sea, The Directorate Nation of Transnapastain, and The Dark Imperial Fist of Kriegorgrad.”
A few eyebrows were raised at the last one mentioned, and some of the officials looked shocked. Charlotte Fenner, the official for Tourism, didn’t bat an eyelid.
“You cannot be serious!” Lindeman spluttered, “Kriegorgrad?”
“I am perfectly serious, Walter,” Malek said, quietly.
“But…Kriegorgrad?” Lindeman said, exasperated. His glasses had slid down his nose again, and were threatening to fall into his coffee.
“We are looking for powerful, peaceful nations to ally with,” Malek said, firmly, “and Kriegorgrad is just that. Large, powerful, and doesn’t seek war with any of the surrounding nations.”
“Its civil rights record is less than comforting, though, I think you’ll agree,” Donohue said, looking thoughtfully at the report.
“Perhaps. That’s a completely different subject, however. Our concern now is allying with large, powerful and peaceful nations, and Kriegorgrad is just the sort of ally we need.”
Lindeman glared stubbornly into his coffee, but said nothing.
“Kriegorgrad is interested in opening relations with us,” Malek continued, “and is particularly interested in possibilities of trade. That will have to be discussed, but for now, do we all agree that negotiations should be opened with The Dark Imperial Fist of Kriegorgrad?”
The officials all nodded, even Lindeman, after a few moments. Malek breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“Alright, onto the other candidates. Sunset Sea. Opinions?”
“An excellent choice,” Donohue said, “they share many policies with us, noting in particular their concern for the environment. They are peaceful.”
“Agreed,” Fenner said, clearing her throat, “Sunset Sea is also renowned for being a place of great beauty. It would be interesting to see what possibilities for the promotion of tourism could be discussed.”
Malek nodded.
“Do we all agree that negotiations should be opened with The Free Land of Sunset Sea?” Malek asked formally. All the officials nodded.
The Prime Minister took a gulp of his coffee, and then flicked through the pages of his report until he found the nation he was looking for.
“Lastly, we have The Directorate Nation of Transnapastain,” he said, and waited as the officials found the relevant pages.
“Corporate Police State,” Donohue said neutrally. Malek nodded.
“Yes. Again, large, powerful, and peaceful. They inform us that they are willing to enter into negotiations. The communication implied technological and economical assistance.”
“Well, we could certainly do with that,” Carlos Etheridge said, reading the report of the nation with interest, “any technological advancement is welcome, surely?”
“I agree,” Malek said, “so, do we all agree that negotiations should be opened with The Directorate Nation of Transnapastain?”
The officials all nodded, and Malek smiled.
“Good. File the rest of the nations who expressed interest in alliances, because they may be needed in the future, but for now, these three will be the ones we will concentrate on. Carlos, send messages to all three, informing them of our decision, and tell them that we are happy to hold the negotiations in our own nation. Also, inform the media, but be careful about how much you tell them.”
“Yes sir,” Etheridge said.
“The media already seems to think we’re planning some grand scale military offensive, so be careful what you say, or everyone will jump on the bandwagon, and we’ll be inundated with protests and such like.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Send out a public statement detailing how we are looking for peaceful allies, if things get too heated, alright?”
Etheridge nodded. Malek stood up, smoothing down his suit.
“Alright, ladies, gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned. There’s another meeting this evening at eight to discuss transport in inner city areas.”
The officials stood and filed out, quickly, and Malek stood and finished his coffee, and then he picked up his report and left too, heading for the seventh floor to inform the King of the nations they had selected. He checked his schedule. Five more meetings and then a public appearance by the King to open a new museum. Juan Malek sighed and carried on along the hallway.


Letter sent to The Directorate Nation of Transnapastain, Thursday 7th October.

Dear Sir,

We have received your message informing us of your interest in opening negotiations. We understand that you may be interested in discussing technological advancements and economical assistance in particular, and we think you will agree, this requires a formal conference to discuss in detail. We are pleased to hold the negotiations in our own capital city, Anglorrak. If this is to your satisfaction, we ask that you please reply to us concerning details of the envoy you will be sending and when, and we will begin arrangements for a conference immediately. Should you require a personal guard for your envoy, please inform us, and we will adjust our security. Your envoy’s safety is paramount to our nation. The Kingdom of Nypolina extends its thanks.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official

Letter sent to The Free Land of Sunset Sea, Thursday 7th October.

Dear Sir,

We are pleased to have received your message telling us of your interest in opening negotiations. The Free Land of Sunset Sea and the Kingdom of Nypolina have much in common, in particular, environmental policies. We are very interested in discussing such policies with you. We are happy to hold negotiations in our capital city, Anglorrak, so we ask that you send details of your envoy and when you intend to send him or her, and preparations for a conference will begin immediately. Should you require a personal guard for your envoy, please inform us, and we will organize our security accordingly. Your envoy’s safety is vital to us. The nation of Nypolina extends its thanks, and hopes for continuing peace and prosperity between our nations.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official

Letter sent to The Dark Imperial Fist of Kriegorgrad, Thursday 7th October.

Dear Sir,

We recently received your communication that indicated interest in opening negotiations with our nation, and note that you suggest trade agreements in particular. This, we think you will agree, should be discussed further in a formal negotiation conference. We are happy to hold such a conference in our capital city, Anglorrak. Please send details of your envoy and when you intend to send him or her, and we will organize one immediately. Should you require your envoy to be accompanied by a personal guard, we ask that you inform us of this so we can adjust our security accordingly. The safety of your envoy is imperative. The nation of Nypolina extends its thanks.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official.


OOC: Vastiva, apologies for not including you in this as of yet. It takes some time to write these RPs, and I wrote this one before your post. You'll be included in the next one, hopefully!

Serafima would love to ally with you

Morgaine

The Speakers of Sarrowquand were intrigued by your intentions of peacefully increasing relations with your neighbours.

Their final conclusion was that Sarrowquand would be considered to small to be a hugely usefull ally. However we are more then happy to offer the chance for any royals or major policy makers to 'vacation' within our neutral borders in times of war; with the Council taking full responsibility for their protection.

Councilour Gorenge, the fourth speaker of Sarrowquand

Post comming shortly

Valhalla Command Center
Conference Room 208
OIS Daily Briefing, already in progress

“…and so, as you’ll see on page 5 of the morning report, the Capital building is now fully reconstructed, and, most of the ruined artworks have been replaced…aside from those few…which, sadly, to replicas could be found.”

“Understood, pity, though…I still say we should force Nailiak to pay for the damages his rouge terrorists caused.” Remarked one of the Section Commanders.

“Why bother? They’re already embarrassed enough, and, they’re internal security got shot to hell in the whole deal, I’m content.” Replied General Davis. “Anyways, what else have we got?”

Colonel Gallagher looked up from his PDA. “Sir, I have something, its not much, but…NNAO out of Nova Hope reports that a nation known as Skiberen may have procured and used VX nerve gas in recent days, though, this is unconfirmed. We’ve added them to the list of nation possibly possessing and likely to use chemical and biological agents in a wartime situation, and adjusted monitoring to compensate”

The others nodded, “Small time indeed, but, still good to know, pass thanks along to NNAO.” Replied Davis

“Uh, sir, I have a reply here from Nypolina, if you’ll all open the file, you can read the response…” Colonel Fires paused for a few seconds, and continued. “I assume we’ll want to send a delegation?”

“Indeed, I think, we’ll send Special Agent Harrison, and, you, I think Colonel, to their Capital to conduct these negotiations.” Replied the General thoughtfully, adding, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, and some people from the Diplomatic Corps, as well, I suppose.”

“Understood sir, I can leave tomorrow, if need be.” Replied Colonel Fires

“Yes, do so, Colonel, and have a good trip”

“Sir…”

The meeting continued…


Message sent to Nypolina

We are delighted to attend a conference held in your nations capital. I, myself, will be attending, along with one bodyguard, and a team of 4 other diplomats. While we trust your security personal, we request to be allowed to come minimally armed. We look forward to seeing you, and to favorably relations with your nation into the future.

Singed

Colonel Gregory Fires
OIS Head of Regional Intelligence.

Government Offices, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Sunday 10th October.

Carlos Etheridge was sorting through his paperwork, which was currently strewn haphazardly across his desk. This was a regular occurrence for all those in Nypolina’s government, and he patiently leafed through the paperwork, putting it into separate piles and drawers. A cup of coffee steamed on his desk, and he picked it up now and then and gulped some down. It was morning, and already the offices were bustling with officials.
When the phone rang, Etheridge was so absorbed in the paperwork that he didn’t hear it immediately. On the fifth incessant ring, he noticed, and picked it up.
“Etheridge.”
“Carlos, it’s me,”
“Prime Minister,” Etheridge said respectfully.
“We received a reply to those letters you sent out.”
“Good. Who from?”
“Transnapastain. They’re sending a man named Colonel Fires, and a few other diplomats. They request to be minimally armed. I’ll send you the details. Can you organize a conference within the next few days?”
“Yes, Prime Minister. Whereabouts?”
“Not the government offices, not for a diplomatic conference. Is the place still besieged by press?”
Carlos walked over to the window and looked down to the street. People with cameras and microphones were harassing officials as they entered and left the buildings.
“Yes sir. Lots of them.”
Etheridge heard the Prime Minister make a noise of irritation.
“Get some police out there, please. We can’t have them that close anyway. It’s a security risk, Carlos.”
“Not to mention health and safety, sir. They’re blocking the fire exits. I’ll have them escorted away.”
“Good. So, about the conference. Would the Anglorrak Conference Hall be sufficient?”
“It’s very public, sir.”
“Yes, but we actually want the media to see this one. Prove to them this is in the interests of peace.”
“It’ll require very high security.”
“I’ll handle that, Carlos, you organize the conference. Once you’ve sorted out the details, send a letter to their nation, call me, and then let the media know.”
“Yes sir.”
“Also, we’ve received responses from a few other nations expressing interest in becoming a peaceful ally.”
Etheridge continued looking out of the window at the media jostling each other as they tried to question the officials.
“You want me to sent letters to them, or do we need to discuss it in a meeting?”
“No need for a meeting, His Majesty has already approved all of them. The Dominion of Sarrowquand, the Constitutional Monarchy of Serafima, and the Sultanate of Vastiva. Let them know that we’re interested, and suggest a conference.”
“Yes sir.”
“Thanks, Carlos. Keep me up to date, if possible.”
The Prime Minister hung up, and Etheridge put the phone down and sat at his desk. He took a few gulps of coffee and then turned his computer on, clicking to the word processor. Before he began, he picked the phone up again and called his secretary.
“Sir.” She answered.
“Could you call the Official for Transport, the Official for Emergency Services, and the Finance Official, please? Tell them I need to meet with them as soon as possible, to organize a diplomatic conference.”
“Of course, sir.”
He hung up, and turned to his computer and began to type. He’d have to sort his paperwork later.


Letter sent to The Directorate Nation of Transnapastain, Sunday 10th October.

Dear Sir,

The nation of Nypolina extends its thanks for the details of your visit. We have prepared a diplomatic conference, in which will take part His Majesty, King Renegar of Nypolina, Prime Minister Juan Malek, and myself. The conference will be held in the Anglorrak Conference Hall on Tuesday 12th October. We realize this is somewhat short notice, but we would like to begin negotiations as soon as possible. You are welcome to bring minimal weaponry for personal safety, but due to current media events, we ask that you keep them concealed if possible. Prime Minister Juan Malek and a police escort will meet you at the airport and ensure your safety on the way to the conference and during it. The escort to the conference hall may be televised, but the conference itself is banned to the press until after the conference is complete. We hope that this will be satisfactory, and to hear from you soon.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official.


Letter sent to The Dominion of Sarrowquand, Sunday 10th October.

Dear Sir,

We received your response regarding our search for peaceful allies, and extend our thanks to your gracious nation. We think you will agree that such negotiations should be conducted formally in a conference, and we are prepared to hold such a conference in our capital city, Anglorrak. If this is to your satisfaction, please send details of your envoy and when you intend to send him or her, and we will begin organizing immediately. Should be requiring an armed escort, please let us know and our security will be adjusted accordingly.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official


Letter sent to The Constitutional Monarchy of Serafima, Sunday 10th October.

Dear Sir/Madam

We recently received your response indicating interest in becoming a peaceful ally of Nypolina. Our nation extends its thanks to you and invites you to conduct negotiations with us in our own capital city, Anglorrak. We think that you will agree that a conference will be suitable for such negotiations, and if this is to your satisfaction, please reply with details of your envoy and when you intend to send him or her. If you require an armed escort, please inform us, and we will adjust our security accordingly.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official.


Letter sent to The Sultanate of Vastiva

Dear Sir,

We received a response recently from your most gracious nation, expressing interest in becoming a peaceful ally of the nation of Nypolina. We extend our thanks for this, and suggest that negotiations be completed in our own capital city, Anglorrak. We hope that you will agree that a conference would be the most beneficial form of proceedings, and if you find this satisfactory, please inform us of your envoy and when you intend to send him or her. We will then begin preparations immediately. Should you require an armed escort, you are welcome to do so, but please inform us so we may adjust our security for your visit. Again we extend our thanks for your interest.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official.

The Council of Sarrowquand would like to thank King Renegar of Nypolina for extending an invitation to your up coming peace talks.

Daron Smite the council's third speaker has been dispatched to your nation and should arrive comfortably before hand. Speaker Smite will therefore be able to discuss the issues beforehand should this be desirable.

Speaker Smite will be traveling by train and will require only minimal staff and no gaurd forces. His route has been dispatched to your diplomatic and security offices in a seperate telegram.

As a side issue we would like to discuss the opening of embassies and the possibility of fast-tracking your citizens through Sarrowquandian customs.

First Speaker Julius Etchells

Letter sent to The Sultanate of Vastiva

Dear Sir,

We received a response recently from your most gracious nation, expressing interest in becoming a peaceful ally of the nation of Nypolina. We extend our thanks for this, and suggest that negotiations be completed in our own capital city, Anglorrak. We hope that you will agree that a conference would be the most beneficial form of proceedings, and if you find this satisfactory, please inform us of your envoy and when you intend to send him or her. We will then begin preparations immediately. Should you require an armed escort, you are welcome to do so, but please inform us so we may adjust our security for your visit. Again we extend our thanks for your interest.

Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official.

The Grand Vizier considered his list of diplomats. Whom to send to this country as an opening to diplomacy?

He reviewed the list before him carefully: several good choices were still on assignment elsewhere, and a first contact was never a place for an amateur.

Finally his eyes found the perfect name: Ihaba Svetlana von Steinberg. She was listed as recently returned from a cruise, had successfully completed ambassadorships with no fewer then six nations, and had a pechant for travel.

He called up the proper forms on his computer, and sent Ihaba her travel orders, along with her vouchers for the International Activites department.


***
Diplomatic Communique from Vastiva

To: Carlos Etheridge, Foreign Relations Official,
Government Offices, Anglorrak City, Nypolina

Ab-shalom and greetings;

We will be sending as our envoy Ihaba Svetlana Von Steinberg, a distinguished ambassador with several successful diplomatic missions to her credit.

Accompanying her will be a delegation of six trade relations delegates, two bodyguards, and two secretarial assistants.

We would ask that you allow a line of credit within your country for the trade relations delegates if you do not accept VCS Visa. We also ask that the trade delegates be allowed or escorted on a tour of some of your country.

Outside of these concerns, we leave matters in your hands.

Go in Peace.

Namaste,
Raahmid Javani
Grand Vizier,
Humble Servant of His Magnificence, the Sultan of Vastiva

*TAG* for later posting

The phone rang.
"Miss Paris' office," Marci said. "Oh good morning Mr. Mason. Yes, Tim's doing quite well thank you. Please tell Mrs. Mason thank you from both of us, it was just so lovely of her to send out all those plants and gardeners to put them in. The garden is just beyond our dreams now. Oh yes sir she's always available for you! One moment and I'll put you through."

*BEEP* "Miss Paris, Mr. Mason is on the line."
"Put him through please Marci" Jarisa punched the reciever button on the phone. "Good morning Theo, what can the Foreign office do for you today?" she said with her usual good humor.
"Glad to see you're in high spirits today Jarisa."
"Uh oh."
"What?"
"Makes me nervous when you say things like that. Usually means I've got alot of work coming my way."
"Well, I'd have to yes if I'm going to stay honest. However I don't think you're going to mind this time."
"And why, pray tell, is that Theo?"
"Nypolina wants to hold a conference about an alliance. The message got to us a couple of days ago, but with everything so hectic right now, this is the first chance we've gotten to pass it to you Jarisa. A courier should be arriving any time now with the offical word, but I wanted to call and give you the heads up personally."
Jarisa sat back heavily in her chair and sighed. "You're right on both counts Theodore. It IS going to be alot of work & I'm not really minding too much. I do appreciate your call too, by the way."
"It's the least I could do for you. The heavy storm season this year has thrown everyone off. With that in mind the Council has voted to place you in charge of the entire matter of the discussions with Nypolina."
"What? What do you mean in charge? What about the people? Surely they'll have to be informed and a delegation will have to be assembled..."
"Yes Jarisa, and the Council has voted to let your office handle it all. I know it's going to be more work for you, but we feel that all these matters are best left to the people who will be dealing with them directly, rather than have bureaucratic hassles and delays tying their hands."
"I see. So, in that case I have discretion AND the FULL support of the entire Council? Is that what I'm being told Theo?"
"Yes, that's it exactly. I believe a military term applies to your situation here: Operational freedom. So long as it's not against the Laws & Charters you are authorized to use your best judgement in the handling of the situation."
"I see. Well, the courier has just arrived. This is going to be a big event. We've dealt with other nations before, but this is going to be our first alliance conference. I really appreciate yours' and the Council's faith in me."
"Well, we know we've got the right person for the job. If there's anything you need Jarisa, let me know. Good luck."
"Thanks Theo. Good day."

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

The documents she received from the courier did shed more light on exactly what was going on. So, a conference... First to put a delegation together. She had spent the last two and a half hours looking through the dossiers cascaded across her terminal screen. Now to choose her best representatives. Charles was a good candidate, but was still in The Dominion of The Blood Flower, trying to convince them to give their people more civil rights before a trade agreement would be signed. Meghn was also away, at a convention in The People's Republic of Lumen Veritas on practical solutions to environmental issues. So, out of the 12 people available who were her best three?

Modoko Hideki - Not from the Diplomatic Service directly, but a strong negotiator and good background. Worked with the UN as a mediator, preventing no less than three wars. Also successfully negotiated a hostage crisis when terrorists assaulted a peace conference she was attending.

Tobias DuBois - Long standing member of the Diplomatic Service. Trade agreements are his specialty, but works well in a variety of situations. Has brought in more trade than anyone else in the Branch. Likes to look at the long term and the "big picture".

Violet Reyes - Relatively new to the Diplomatic Service, but already making a name for herself. Has a psychology background which gives her an unexpected insight on the thoughts of others who she's dealing with. She's a bit crafty, and likes to let others talk more, as it makes them comfortable and more likely to reveal what their true thoughs, feelings, & intentions are.

'Yes,' thought Jarisa, 'These three will be a fine group to represent Sunset Sea.'
She pushed the intercom as she sent the dossiers to her assistant's screen, "Marci, please contact the three people in these files and tell them I'd like to meet with them ASAP concerning a very important conference."
"Right away Miss Paris."

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

Greetings! We are very pleased to hear your response & would be delighted to attend a conference on the matter in your capital. We will be sending three members of our Diplomatic Service to attend. Though we are sure your security measures will be more than adequate, our Laws & Charters require that each of our Representatives have a Protector in company. However they will not be armed while attending the conference, or in the presence of your own security personnel. The relevant details on all personnel that will be attending are in the attached file. Please feel free to contact us if any further information is needed. We look forward to meeting with you in the near future.

Sincerely,
Jarisa Paris
Foreign Secretary of Sunset Sea

TAG of interest.

Transnapastain Maher Airport
Transnapa City
0930


The cool winter air blew across the tarmac as Colonel Fires’ black Sedan pulled to a stop in front of the large Boeing 757 passenger liner. A severe winter storm had blown through the night before, and dumped over 2 feet of snow on this northern parts of the nation, of course, this didn’t effect the airport runways or major interstates at all, as Transnapastain had long since installed hot wires under the pavement, hot enough to heat the pavement from below, and remove snow and ice in minutes.

The OIS plane was painted Silver and black, and bore the seal of Transnapastain, the Transnapastani Eagle clutching the nations symbol. That seal matched the Transnapastani flag blowing in the wind, and the armband wrapped around the right sleeve of the Colonels dress uniform. He stepped from the car, and looked around, behind his car, another Sedan was pulling up, and from it came the other 3 diplomats, already on station at the base of the stairs into the plane we’re the 3 other OIS agents detailed to protect the Colonel. He began to walk briskly towards the plane, as he neared the bottom of the steps, the men standing guard there snapped to attention and saluted. Colonel Fires saluted in return and asked.

“Are we ready to depart?” he asked

“Yes sir, as soon as you’re aboard, we can take off.,” replied Special Agent Harrison, Agent in charge of the bodyguard detachment.

“Very well then, lets get inside, it’s horribly cold this morning…” said Fires, as he walked up the stairs, flanked by two Agents, with Harrison brining up the rear.

As the entered, the door was closed and the stairs pulled away. Colonel Fires walked into the office on the plane, sat down, and flipped on the news.

The plane began to taxi onto the runway, the pilot keyed the radio

“This is Diplomatic Flight 1-7-9er, code clearance blue, we are requesting permission to take off on runway 2.”

Within seconds the response came

“We read you 5-by, DF179er, permission granted, be advised, severe weather in your flight path, heavy cross winds and turbulence over the Antarnas Mountains. Stay above 50,000 feet, conforms?”

The pilot responded. “We copy control, we are entering the runway.”

“Ah, roger that, safe trip DF109er, Maher Control, out.”

The plane gathered speed and ascended into the air, its destination, Anglorrak City.

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean
13:55

“So, Agent, tell me about these new weapons we’re carrying?” said Colonel Fires, as he toyed with the strange tri-barreled “pistol” in his hands.

“Uh, sir, I suggest you don’t play with that too much, that Needler goes off in here…and, well, we wont be making it to our destination.” Said Agent Harrison, as he looked over his own unique weapon.

“Anyway, sir, these are SAG weapons, which we purchased from Kaukolastan, We figured since the overture of our communication with them was technological exchange we’d better show up armed with pretty little hi-tech weapons.” He laughed and continued, “What you got there is a N.01 Needler pistol, in theory, it’s a personal defense, last ditch weapon…we refer to it more as a personal offense weapon. Damn thing fires at 3600 rounds per minute, that thing can slice right through almost anything, I’ve seen em bisect cars…Kaukolastan has a machine gun variant of it…scary as hell…use that if we have to mow through a crowd.”

He hefted the gun he’d been holding in his lap, a bull pup weapon, with the magazine located behind the pistol grip, inside the stock. The gun looked futuristic and pretty intimidating, the gun had a flowing design to it, from barrel to stock, the digital scope was even flawlessly incorporated into the gun, after the scope, the body angles down into he barrel, with vents on either side, to chamber the 1st round, or, clear the chamber, the molded hand grip on the front pumps like a shotguns,

“This is a SAG ACR, or Advanced Combat Rifle, advanced really doesn’t do the gun justice, you know what they say about SAG weapons, pretty as hell, and they live up to their reputations as being deadly, this one, in particular, is quite good at its job. It has a 20 round clip, fires a 7.92 caseless Tungsten carbide Fletchette round, this thing will punch through any personal armor, and even some light vehicle armor, upon firing, the barrel recoils into the gun, the excess gas purges the chamber through the side vents, and the top rod adjusts to lengthen, and therefore lessen, the recoil stroke, so, its “pushes” instead of “jerks” when fired. All in all, this gun is impressive, and it’ll scare the shit out of anyone who sees it. This gun is what the bodyguard teams are carrying” Said Harrison, panting

“Uh, Agent, you need to remember to breathe during that speech.” Remarked Fires, still gawking at the ACR

“Yes sir, I just love my guns.” He said, with a smirk.

“Indeed, well, hopefully, we wont have to fire a shot, outside of a demonstration, here, Intelligence doesn’t expect there to be trouble, but, its nice to know, if there is, we’ll be ready. Now, I need to get some work done, so, ill talk to you later.” Said Fires

“Yes sir, ill go make sure everyone else knows how these babies work.” Said Harrison, as he stood, saluted, and departed the room.

On approach to Anglorrak City airport.
Anglorrak City.
21:30

“This is Diplomatic Flight 1-0-9ner, out of Transnapastain, carrying diplomatic envoy and security detachment requesting clearance to land…”

OOC:

Links for the Weapons described

http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SAG_ACR

http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/SAG_N.01_Needler

You are watching MNB News, the voice of Macisikan

"... as they develop.

A government spokesman has announced that three hours ago, a diplomatic mission departed Arn-Maciska for a small nation in the North Pacific known as Nypolina.

The mission was dispatched following high-level negotiations between the Prime Minister of Nypolina and the External Affairs Ministry.

The delegation, believed to include high-ranking members of His Imperial Majesty's Government, is to open negotiations with this small nation regarding Embassy exchanges and a non-aggression pact.

The spokesman has refused to disclose any more details at this time.

The situation in Dyelli Beybi has yet to stabilise..."

=====================

Ministry of External Affairs, Internal Directive E/I/K. 382/1
... to determine the likelihood of an exchange.

SecAmbAff Research personnel are also directed to discern Nypolina's views on separation of the Church and State, to determine if this will effect the outcome of negotiations; it will probably have bearing on reactions in Parliament, especially the Synod.

SecTrade has requested that possible avenues of trade be explored by all personnel, despite the relatively small size of the available markets...

... MinDef reminds all personnel that Parliament is unlikely to approve any form of military commitment...

((ooc: this might be a little late in the thread, but I just found the game!
btw I saw in your posts reference to "anti-decontamination chambers" that's actually a double negative. if you where to reword that as it's written it would mean your undoing the un-contamination or to use less words your recontaminating him, I don't think that is what you meant I also hope it's not to unrealistic to think I could of sent some "tourists" to the area before making official contact.))

Akari Naru Chief Foreign Affairs Minster left her office to go speak with the queen, upon getting to the palace she clips on her id badge and heads in, getting to Queen Ramos as she's heading out of the throne room. "Queen Ramos!" she calls out as she runs over. The Queen turns to look at her "oh Hello Akari, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Akari smiles and then hands over the paper "I have heard that a country called Nypolina is seeking allies." she looks the paper over" then back up at Akari "from the date on this you heard about it a while ago why haven't you brought this up before?" Akari bowed, "Sorry your highness, but after the mess we got in last time I thought it prudent to do some scouting of the area first, I was waiting for my scouts to report."
"And what have you discovered?" Queen Ramos asks, and Akari hands her another few papers, she reads them over "I see, well they do seem worth while. Looks like I might not be able to deal with the actual royalty to much, but I guess they have there reasons for having more security measures than I do. Well go tell our present allies of our plan then send a message back to Nypolina of our willingness to be allies." Akari bows again and then heads off.
Her first visit was to the Colony of Spring Valley, and then when she got back she wrote a letter to Prime Minister Juan of Nypolina, she also indicated in the letter that anyone from their Kingdom is welcome to tour the nation. She also offered to give him and the royal family a personal tour and mentioned she could arrange to have a bunch of their guards on hand if they wish during the tour.

Councillor Smite was not at ease; for one thing as a sixty five year old he had no desire to be vaunting of on some foreign mission with only a small staff to keep the workload of a large conference at bay.

Once again he groaned at the painful paradox which had landed him in this position. The council in it's wisdom had wished to show solidarity and respect towards it's new allies, but with so many government projects going on it was loathe to spend the resources required to dispatch and maintain a large diplomatic mission, naturally it was also a matter of style.

The council had debated the issue and the various recommendations of the senate until it had decided on dispatching a single high ranking speaker; Daron the second speaker commanded a respect on the council that was second to only the first speakers; he was also a member of the ur-faction (the united faction group) which assured the council and senate that he would be pushing no agenda bar Sarrowquand's at the conference; he chuckled to himself at the thought of one of the two Tyr-faction councillors being sent and attempting to push their militaristic agenda.

The laugh attracted the attention of the slim girl sitting opposite him, the senator Jessie Mclauchlin who, in response to his outburst, withdrew her attention from the scraggly tundra that whizzed past the window and fixed her intent stare upon him.

Daron shifted in his seat allowing circulation to return to his buttocks before he spoke, "I apologise for disturbing your train of thought my dear. I was merely enjoying a piece of internal wit."
"Indeed" was her only reply before she went back to watching the scenery of Sarrowquand's colder eastern countryside.

She was like no grey he had ever known, and he had known many of them; the grey-faction only existed within the senate and they were always beaurocrats to the core with little passion for anything but form filling and law making it meant that they were the dominant faction within the administive senate but non-existent in the policy making council. But yet there was something about her some other spark it made him wonder why she was here.

Suddenly the train slowed and the lights dimmed the councillor started he had not noticed how dark it had become outside. While the train's cabin had been well lit the desolate terrain had seemed distant and part of the background, now though relying only on natural light it was as if it the atmosphere had washed inside, it was as though that were the price to be paid for using the dusk.

Daron heard regular footsteps moving along the train's corridor, he felt a slight shiver. The handle of the cabin began to turn slowly and he was filled with the impulse to leap across the dividing space and wrench the lock shut; such exploits however were for younger men and he remained frozen in place.

The door swung open revealing the train's senior porter. The man stepped inside and as a mark of respect to the two officials removed his hat. Daron spared a glance at Ms Mclauchlin, who seemed both calm and composed. Naturally his mind chided she has almost certainly memorised the sound of his boots and gait, bah greys.

"Sorry for the delay sir, maam." The porter uttered, "But we have been halted by a line block". "Very well" replied Daron feeling relieved "how long until the offending tree has been removed" the porter twitched nervously and took a second before answering, "No tree Councillor we have been halted by Sunset security forces."

The shock took a second to digest, what would a sunset unit be doing here on the border of Sarrowquand and Nyopolinia why would they halt the train. Daron realised that the porter was again speaking, "...they claim that there has been a terrorist threat and that they have been sent to ensure our arrival, but sir if you don't mind me saying, I’m not really sure about this."

Daron sympathised with him and realised that it was also his que to take command, "Very well then" he said trying to make it sound as if it was indeed very well, "Let's go see them."

The porter turned and led them down the corridor, Daron hobbled after him with senator Mclauchlin bringing up the rear. They soon reached a suitable window from which they could see the small group outside. "What are our options" Daron asked, "can we not simply carry on past them?” The porter replied with a swift "No" before going on to elaborate. "Sir with all due respect we cannot, the track is blockaded. We could go back, other then that I think our only option is to let them on."

"If only," Daron mused "there was someway we could tell if they were true or not. Then we could deal with the situation; as it stands though we will have to retreat"
"Actually" interjected Senator Mclauchlin "They are well dressed as Sunset officers, the boots in particular are hard to come by if you are not a member and most imitations of the jackets lack the delicate patterning involved in the stitching, though it is a little hard to tell in this gloom."
"Ah" was all Daron could think to say, though at least he wasn't allowing his jaw to hang like the porter was, "still it's not much to go on and...."

Just then the group leader turned towards the window he was a pale blond haired man, tall and with an air of adventure about him, he was at the wrong angle to see the group but that wasn't what had really caught his attention. Senator Mclauchlin was smiling in a delighted way. It was strange as he'd seen no such emotion play across her face since meeting her two weeks ago. "Charles Reedstorm" she said allowing a sigh, before reigning in her emotions, "though our information on the Sunset security forces is quite limited, we do know something’s and Captain Reedstorm was the last time I checked a legitimate member."

"Uh" was all councillor Smite could manage, "I guess that's good enough, let them on board". Silently he prayed that it was the right decision for whatever Senator Jessie Mclauchlin was she was no grey.

Anglorrak International Airport, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Tuesday 12th October.

Prime Minister Juan Malek stood in the Royal waiting lounge of the airport, accompanied by two security personnel. He watched the runways through the enormous glass windows, enjoying the warmth being given out by several heaters. It had turned very suddenly cold, and Malek was wearing a coat and scarf with the formal colours of Nypolina on them.
“How many media are here?” Malek asked one of the security personnel. The man blinked as if surprised, but he hadn’t moved from his easy stance with hands clasped behind his back.
“We are inundated, sir.”
“Wonderful,” Malek muttered, “How many security people do we have out there?”
“Plenty, sir.”
“Good,” Malek nodded, and turned to look at the entrance to the Royal waiting lounge. Two more security personnel stood ominously at the door, and a few paces ahead of them, a mass of media eagerly pushed and shoved each other to get a look in. Each time one got too close, a security officer calmly pushed them back.
The Prime Minister stretched, and looked out onto the runways. They were almost deserted today. Presently, a small black dot appeared in the clear sky.
“Diplomatic Flight from Transnapastain coming into land,” a speaker above their heads announced, “Estimated to land in ten minutes.”
“Right, let’s go,” Malek said to the two security officers, “we want to be out there just after it lands.”
“Yes sir,” the two men said in unison, and followed Malek as he made his way to the lift that lead down to the runways. The Prime Minister breathed a sigh of relief that they didn’t have to push their way through the throng of media, and tightened his scarf slightly as the lift descended. Three floors down, the lift pinged cheerfully, and the doors slid open.
“It’s cold!” Malek gasped as the Autumn chill swirled in. He pulled his coat more closely about him and stepped out onto the runway. He squinted up into the blue sky, watching the progress of the plane as it came into land. Malek coughed self-consciously, aware that the windows three floors above were full of press who had come to watch the meeting of the Prime Minister with Colonel Fires of Transnapastain.
Ahead of him, standing motionless near the black cars that they intended to escort the diplomats in, he saw Arthur Lang, the Security Official. He nodded to the two security men and walked towards Lang and the cars.

Arthur Lang was a calm man by nature, and was renowned for being thorough. He leant on the side of one of the cars, and looked around, making sure all his personnel were in place, before confirming it via the radio.
“Lang here. Is everyone prepared?”
Several voices responded that they were, except two others. Lang waited a few seconds, and then those two voices also reported in. Lang allowed himself to relax very slightly, at least until the plane landed. This was an important one for him and his personnel. Thanks to the persistent media coverage, there were those that had decided that Nypolina was planning military actions in the future, and that meant that there were those who might try something extreme. As such, Lang had posted security personnel all over the place, for safety.
“Stay alert,” he ordered through the radio, as he saw the Prime Minister walking towards him. The drone of the plane could now be heard, and the plane could be seen clearly as it approached the airport.
“Prime Minister,” Lang nodded as Malek reached him.
“Arthur,” Malek replied, “report?”
“All my people are in position.”
“Armed?”
“Of course. They’re covering the runway and all the exits. Plus the buildings across the street.”
“Good,” Malek said, and then louder, over the noise of the plane as it came into land, “you think someone will try something?”
“It’s possible, sir.”
Lang watched as the plane extended its landing gear, bounced slightly, and taxied along the runway. When it came to a halt, airport staff swiftly moved a set of mobile steps up to the door. The plane itself was silver and black, and the seal of Transnapastain was clearly visible.
“Well, let’s go and welcome them,” Malek said, and adjusted his coat and scarf. Lang followed him as he made his way to the base of the steps. After a few moments, the door of the plane slid open, and a man appeared at the top of the steps. Lang knew a military type when he saw one, and the man who stood looking down expressionlessly was definitely one. The man was in uniform, in the unmistakable design and colour of Transnaspastain. He wore an armband with the seal of the nation on his right sleeve. Instead of stepping out first, however, the man stepped back to allow a bodyguard to go first. The man was wearing a suit, and was clearly the man in charge of guarding the Colonel. Lang nodded to his opposite number as he descended the steps, noticing that the weapons he carried were on show.
“Presenting to you, Colonel Fires of Transnapastain,” the bodyguard said formally. Now the Colonel stepped out of the plane, flanked by two more bodyguards. He walked down the steps and extended a hand in greeting. Malek took it.
“Colonel Fires.”
“Prime Minister Juan Malek.”
“How was your journey?” the Prime Minister inquired.
“Some turbulence,” the Colonel replied.
More people descended the steps, pulling their clothes around them more tightly as the chill hit them.
“The other diplomats,” Colonel Fires explained. Malek nodded.
“There have been a few minor complications, I’m afraid, Colonel.”
“Oh?” The Colonel seemed unperturbed.
“Originally, the conference was planned for today. However, because some of the diplomats from other nations are not scheduled to arrive yet, we’ve set up some temporary accommodation for you.”
“Alright,” Colonel Fires said, “Where?”
Lang stepped forward, and the bodyguards around the Colonel reached conspicuously for weapons. Colonel Fires waved them down.
“It is a luxury block of flats quite close to the government offices,” Lang said, eyeing the wicked looking weapon that the leader of the bodyguards had, “we will have security personnel nearby at all times.”
“I am not happy with that, sir,” the bodyguard said to the Colonel, “we have only three security people with us.”
“I assure you,” Lang said coolly, “our personnel are well-trained.”
“Agent,” Colonel Fires said calmly, “It is sufficient.”
“Understood, sir,” the bodyguard replied.
The Prime Minister had been watching this exchange, and now he smiled warmly and gestured towards the cars.
“Shall we go?” He asked. Colonel Fires nodded, and Malek and Lang escorted him to the cars. Lang opened the door of the first, and the Transnapastani Colonel climbed in, followed by his bodyguard. The Prime Minister climbed in the front passenger seat, and Lang in the driver’s seat. He had insisted on driving them himself.
“Everyone in the cars?” he asked into his radio.
“Yes sir,” the driver of the other car said.
“Ok. Let’s go.”
Lang started the engine, and drove towards the exit, followed closely by the other car. He drove out into the street, which was surrounded on both sides by the media, and people who had come to see the arrival of the Transnapastani diplomats. Cameras flashed almost constantly, and the press shouted questions. Thankfully, Lang’s people were keeping them away from the road.
“You better be doing your job,” Lang murmured into his radio. No-one replied, which meant they were.

The two secure cars headed further into Anglorrak City, carefully watched by several security personnel, while the Prime Minister and Colonel Fires discussed the upcoming conference. The sky had clouded over, and it began to rain.

"One hour to Anglorrak City. Repeat, one hour to Anglorrak" The Captain's voice echoed the length of the plane.
The Lady Justina Valdir, Minister of External Affairs in His Imperial Majesty's Government, Marchioness of Valdester, and holder of a host of other assorted titles, paid no attention to it. Her two companions, members of the diplomatic corps, paid even less.
The interior of the plane resembled an office more than an aircraft, though possibly an office where someone had knocked over several hundred reams of paper. The business of the Empire went on, it had gone on through wars, plagues, fires, and on one occasion an angry mob of secretaries. A little thing like a diplomatic mission was not going to interrupt it.
Currently the Minister's attention was focused on a flatscreen, displaying eighteen other people seated around a large table in a darkened room.
"... but should not raise our budgetary forecasts for the next fiscal year..." one of the figures was saying.
Justina leaned back, her face a mask, betraying nothing of what she was thinking.
... but it might, and if it does...
"My Lady..." a soft voice broke into her thoughts.
She turned to the younger of her two companions. Alexius Vattyen, twenty-one years old, keen, sharp, and the First Minister's nephew was holding a report to her.
She nodded her thanks and accepted it.
"The media?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"It would appear so my lady."
"Hmmm... ah, well, we run these risks when we travel to other nations." she mused.
"It's hardly a problem." That voice belonged to the third member, an Archdeacon. The line between church and state in Macisikan was vague at the best of times.
Justina turned back to the flatscreen, indicating to the others that she was signing off. The figures, the Imperial Cabinet, signaled their acknowledgment, and the screen blacked.
"No, it's not a problem. They-" she indicated the bodyguards "-know how to handle the media. It's the other things that are usually a problem..."
The others nodded knowingly.
"We did send them the briefing, didn't we?" Alexius looked up from the report he was reading.
"Yes. I think they got it." The Archdeacon was staring out the window at the clouds, "if they didn't... well then-"
"I'm afraid it's TP" Justina interrupted.
"TP?"
"Their Problem."
The other two considered this.
"Good point."
The conversation more or less died at that point, replaced by the busy silence of endless paperwork being done.
The plane glided on, drawing closer to Nypolina.

=====================================

Department of the Cabinet, Internal Memo

"... all personnel are reminded that all Ministers are to have returned to Arn-Maciska in time for the Ceremony...

... External Affairs personnel are instructed to do everything possible to ensure that Lady Valdir has returned by that date...

in the air over Nypolina, 10 minutes out from, Anglorrak International Airport

“Roger that, we’re coming in, vector 2-1-7.” Replied the radio operator to Nypolian Air Traffic Control.

“Alright people, listen up.” Said Harrison, addressing the 3 other OIS Operatives with him. “The Nypolian government has asked us to keep our weapons concealed when we’re in the public eye, so keep those ACR’s, and N.01’s under your trench coats, except you, and you, he said, pointing to two of the guards, “I want you to carry the ACR’s and display them, it’ll be impressive, for sure, those guns are wicked, alright? Good. Lets do a radio check.” He paused, and activated his sub-vocal transmitter, called an IRCD (Internal Radio Communication device.) The entire delegation, except for the 3 diplomats we’re IRCD and DIER (Discrete Inner Ear Receiver) equipped.

“1-online” he said

“2-here” said the 2nd Agent

“3-here” replied the 3rd agent

“Fires here, looking good.” Said the Colonel

“Alight people, we’ve landed, so, lets get this show on the road.” Said Fires

They walked to the exit hatch of the plane, Fires looked at Harrison

“After you, Operative” said Fires, as he reached up and patted his N.01, tucked under his coat

“Sir.” Replied Harrison, who walked through the hatch.

He descended the steps, the Colonel waiting at the top with the 3 guards flanking behind him, creating a diamond formation. The Operatives Trench coats blowing in the wind, they wore the OIS dress uniform for the occasion, though it couldn’t be seen, each man was wearing a white button-up shirt, with black pants, jack boots, and a black armband with the Transnapastani Eagle on it. Over this, they wore heavy back trench coats, with white armbands like the Colonels, and officer hats also bearing the eagle, and their rank, their ranks we’re also shown on the collars of their overcoats and dress shirts.

““Presenting to you, Colonel Fires of Transnapastain.” Said Harrison, with that, Fires began to descend the stairs, when he reached the bottom, he extended his hand and the other man took it, and shook it firmly.

“Colonel Fires” he said

“Prime Minister Juan Malek.”

“How was your journey?” the Prime Minister inquired

“Some turbulence,” the Colonel replied.

Then, the other diplomats began their decent, the Colonel nodded towards them

“The other diplomats,” Colonel Fires explained

“There have been a few minor complications, I’m afraid, Colonel.” The PM said

“Oh?” asked the Colonel

“Originally, the conference was planned for today. However, because some of the diplomats from other nations are not scheduled to arrive yet, we’ve set up some temporary accommodation for you.”

“Alright,” Colonel Fires said, “Where?”

As he asked, another man stepped forward from the crowd, Fires sensed Harrison and the other tense, and Harrison’s hand drifted into his coat. Fires waved his arm in a dismissing gesture.

“It is a luxury block of flats quite close to the government offices,” the man said, his eyes seemed to drift to the ACR one of the Agents was holding, “we will have security personnel nearby at all times”

“I am not happy with that, sir,” Harrison said to the Colonel, glancing at him “we have only three security people with us.”

“I assure you,” Lang said coolly, “our personnel are well-trained.”

“I’m sur-“ began Agent Harrison, when Colonel Fires waved dismissively again.

“Agent,” Colonel Fires said calmly, “It is sufficient.”

“Understood, sir,” the Harrison replied

They then walked to the cars, and got it, and began to drive to the flats. When they exited the airport, reports swarmed around the car, Fires looked over at Harrison, who shock his head, and whispered

“Reports would never get away with antics like this back home…”

Fires mumbled in agreement, and the cars drove onward

As the Presidential office was scattered with papers and boxes as they were preparing for the move to the colony, the President sat in the place where his chair should have been. He stared up at the television screen to catch up with world news. He knew it would have little affect on his nation's future once they finally moved to the Lunar sattelite colony of Dactyl, but he watched it anyways because he would never lead Liebermonk to isolation. On the screen, the anchorman announced that Nypolina had made an announcement earlier that day. They then played the tape.

"Well, perhaps we should create alliances now that we are leaving this world. It may be late, but it could work to our advantage," President Light said as he sat in the scattered papers. He reached for one that was not of any use and began to scrawl a rough draft of a reply.

"Dear Nypolina,
I, President Light of The Corporate Utopia of Liebermonk has just been made aware of your beginning a search for alliances. Liebermonk for some time has been searching to start an alliance with nations dedicated to the peace of eachother and friends. Perhaps, this could be a goldern oppurtunity. Our past has been one of foreign occupation and torture. Because of this, we are moving to a colony on an asteroid that is being placed in orbit around Luna. From there we will be able to live alone and peacefully. However, we recognize that absolute peace is impossible, that is why we have created the Liebermonk Space Force, a team of space-capable planes. If an alliance is formed between us, we pledge to help out your nation, and any of your friends (if proper legislation agrees) in times of unwanted war. All we would ask for in return would be help, in any situations of emergencies (ie. food shipments stop unexpectedly). This alliance could greatly benefit both of our nations. Please consider this alliance as much as we are.
-President John Light, Liebermonk"


"hmmn, that sounds good, it will take a bit of revision, but that is definitely the idea I want to be sending. Nancy, can you please revise and type this up for me, then send it to Nypolina"

President Light then lied down and stared out the window, up at the moon that was beginning to appear. Up there his nation would go, but hopefully, it would still have some friends down on earth....

Message to the Royal Palace of Nypolina

The Empire of Yallak offers you acceptance of this request for peaceful allies. While the history of our Empire is highly militaristic, we have yet to run a war of expansion beyond our own realm of control.
We share many of your policies, especially on deforestation.
We are also interested in opening trade with your Nation - especially the purchasing of Uranium from you.
We eagerly await your response

Emperor Balor

Seetabon, Juosh, 8:35 PM

President Monroe watched the news reports in mild interest. It was always the same, another war and nations looking for alliances. He'd rather not deal with this. General Smith and the Defense Organization dealt with manners of war and alliances, he only approved them.

~

General James Smith walked down the halls of the Capital Building to President Monroe. He needed to discuss an alliance proposal for Nypolina. It seemed that an alliance could be made but there were some drawbacks.

General Smith entered the President's office. "Sir, it seems that a nation called, Nypolina, is looking for alliances. The Defense Organization thinks an alliance with them might be beneficial."

"What have our intelligence reports got on them?"

"Well their a small nation, who are looking for peace, a few nations already have established alliances or trade with them."

"But how could they help us? Their too small and don't have many items we need, not to mention their military is in utter ruin. It seems to me we'd be their guardians."

"Well we don't have very many allies with the destruction of our former alliance organizations or withdrawls from the alliance. We're in need of allies. We may be able to help stimulate their economy and possibly their military. Even though their peaceful they'll need a military and weapons. So they could help us in the end."

"For now let's work on a free trade deal, and then possibly an alliance. For now if we had a full alliance we'd just be sheltering them. So trade will help us for now."

Telegram to Anglorrak City, Nypolina
From: Seetabon, Juosh:

Juosh would like to establish a free trade deal with you, we are able to trade many items and weapons if you need to upgrade your army so maybe we could make some sort of deal. Please consider our offer.

President Monroe

Ambassador Ihaba Svetlana von Steinberg straightened her burnoose and watched the clouds roll by. She resisted the urge to look at her watch - pilots were there to give estimates of arrival and departure times. Looking at her watch would not make the 74SL go any faster.

She spun her chair and considered the view. For a moment, she considered reviewing her notes - but there was such a thing as too much preparation.
Instead, she finished off the last of her mimosa and waited until the clouds parted.

Anglorrak Train Station, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Thursday 14th October.

Carlos Etheridge was cold. He had warm clothes on, but the autumn wind was rushing along here like it was trying to carve a sculpture out of the surrounding buildings. It bit though clothes and into his face, numbing it. He shivered and stared down the railway line, but didn’t see any trains, just graffiti sprayed haphazardly against the station walls. Suddenly, his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, and looked at it through eyes made bleary by the wind. It was the Prime Minister.
“Etheridge,” he answered.
“Carlos, are you at the train station?”
“Yes sir.”
“The delegates from Sarrowquand have been delayed, I’m afraid,”
Etheridge swore.
“Some kind of road block, it seems,” the Prime Minister replied.
“Any idea when they’ll arrive, sir?”
“Some time today. It’s quite a trek from over there, though.”
“Alright. Have the Transnapastani delegates arrived?”
“Yes. They’ve already been transferred to their accommodations.”
“How did they take it?”
“The Colonel seemed indifferent. The bodyguards were concerned.”
“Understandable. Who else do we have coming in?”
“Lady Valdir from Macisikan. She’s to have dinner with His Majesty the King.”
“That’s quite high profile, isn’t it?”
“It is. They’re discussing an exchange of ambassadors.”
“Would you like me to meet her? Are they flying in, or by train or car?”
“Flying, but don’t worry about that, I’m meeting them myself.”
“Alright. Anyone else?”
“Yes, Ambassador Ihaba Svetlana von Steinberg from Vastiva. I’d like you to meet her, please.”
“When?”
“Right after you meet the delegates from Sarrowquand.”
“That’s cutting it a little close, sir.”
“I know, but when the Sarrowquand diplomats arrive, tell them of the complications, and have them driven to their accommodation. Then Richard Northern will fly you to the airport by helicopter in time to meet the delegates from Vastiva.”
Etheridge sighed.
“Alright, sir. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thanks,” the Prime Minister replied, and put the phone down.
Etheridge pressed the button on his phone that cancelled the call, and then stuffed it back in his pocket. He looked around, but there was still no sign of a train. The train station was almost deserted, except for one harassed looking business man with a briefcase. Etheridge sighed again and sat down on a bench.

This was going to be a long wait.

Anglorrak International Airport, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Thursday 14th October.

Prime Minister Juan Malek watched as the flight from Macisikan came into land. It was even colder than yesterday, and there were frequent rain showers. There were also more media than the day before, prompting a wry comment about rabbits from one of the security personnel.
“Keep the press back, please,” Malek said, and headed alone down the lift and out onto the runway. As yesterday, Arther Lang had two cars ready, and security people everywhere.
The plane was just skidding to a halt as Malek reached the cars. The plane was red, black, grey and blue, with the seal of Macisikan visible on it.
“Remember,” Malek murmured to Lang, “address her as “Your Ladyship,” or “My Lady,” please. Let’s observe customs.”
“Yes sir,” Lang replied.
The door to the plane slid open, and Malek drew himself to his full height and brushed down his suit. Ahead of Lady Valdir came two bodyguards; broad, no-nonsense types who gave Malek and Lang an expressionless look. They stood at either side of the mobile stairs, and the authoritative, confident figure of Lady Valdir unhurriedly walked down to the runway.
“Welcome to Nypolina, Your Ladyship,” Malek said, bowing respectfully. Lang bowed also.
“Thank you,” Lady Valdir said. Several more people descended the stairs, and Malek greeted them also.
“My Lady,” Lang addressed the woman, “if you’ll follow me please, we have transportation to the palace prepared.”
Lady Valdir nodded, and walked gracefully to the car, allowing Lang to open the door for her. Two bodyguards got in with her, and Lang got into the driver’s seat and Malek into the passenger seat. The Prime Minister was glad to be out of the cold, and rubbed his hands together, trying to get some feeling back into them, as Lang received a report from the other driver that the diplomats and bodyguards were all in the other car.
“How was your trip from Macisikan, Your Ladyship?” Malek asked conversationally.
“It was busy,” Lady Valdir replied, “is it far to the palace?”
“No, not far,” Malek said, as they pulled out into the street, once again besieged by the press, “as long as the media don’t cause us any hassle.”
“My people will handle that,” Lang said.
“As will mine,” Lady Valdir said, looking through the tinted windows at the security personnel holding the media back. Malek and Lang exchanged a glance.
Presently, after negotiating a few streets filled with fascinated onlookers, they pulled up to the palace gates. One of the Royal Guards formally checked Lang’s ID, and then opened the gates. Security personnel calmly kept the media back as Lang drove through, followed by the other car, and the gates closed behind them.
“Here we are, Your Ladyship,” Malek said cheerfully, “The Royal Palace of Nypolina.”
Lady Valdir nodded, and Malek got out of the car and opened the door for her. She got out, followed by her bodyguards, and Malek led them to the palace doors. Two Royal Guards stood on either side.
“Who goes there?” They said in unison.
“Prime Minister Juan Malek, with delegates from Macisikan, here on a diplomatic mission. His Majesty is expecting us.”
“Very good, sir. Welcome to the Royal Palace, Prime Minister.”
The two guards pulled open the large doors, and Malek stepped through, followed by Lady Valdir, and her bodyguards. The royal palace entrance hall was enormous, with a lavish design. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and there were large paintings on the walls. Royal Guards stood at the doorways and at the base of the stairs, and government officials and personnel hurried everywhere.
“Welcome to the Royal Palace, Your Ladyship,” The Prime Minister said.


Anglorrak Train Station, Anglorrak City, Nypolina. Thursday 14th October.

Carlos Etheridge was, by now, decidedly frozen. He couldn’t feel his fingers, his face was numb, and he hopped from foot to foot to retain some measure of warmth. For the thousandth time that day, he looked impatiently up the railway line for any sign of the Sarrowquand train. This time, however, a train was actually approaching. It was grey, green, blue and red, the colours of Sarrowquand. Etheridge sighed with relief and waited as the high speed train headed towards the station. A few moments later, it ground to a halt next to the platform. Etheridge waited, blowing on his hands to warm them up.
A man stepped from the train and looked around. He looked to be in his sixties, and relieved. Etheridge supposed that the train journey had been somewhat stressful. The man smiled as he saw Etheridge, and walked over to meet him.
“Mr. Etheridge?” the man inquired, offering a hand.
“That’s me,” Etheridge replied, taking the man’s hand, “and you must be Councilor Smite.”
“Indeed I am,” Smite said, and then turned as a slim woman stepped from the train, “This is Jessie Mclauchlin.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Etheridge said, and released Smite’s hand and offered his own to the woman. She took it.
“And you,” she said, and then fell silent. Smite shivered.
“I see the Autumn weather’s arrived pretty quickly here,” he said, grinning.
“We should head to the cars,” Etheridge said, and Smite nodded, “but there is a minor complication.”
Smite’s smile faded, and Mclauchlin raided an eyebrow.
“Because not all of the delegates for the conference have arrived yet, we have set up some temporary accommodation for you in a luxury block of flats near the Royal Palace.”
Smite’s smile returned.
“Ah well, it will be a chance to relax,” he said amiably. Mclauchlin’s expression didn’t change.
“Well, follow me, please,” Etheridge said, and he led them outside the station to the cars. He opened the door, and waited until all the delegates were inside.
“I apologise,” he said, leaning on the top of the car, “I would accompany you, but I have to go to meet some more delegates. Don’t worry, the driver is security personnel, and we have people watching your car through the city. I’ll come to the block of flats myself in a few hours, alright?”
“Busy today?” Smite asked. Etheridge nodded.
“Very,” he said, “have a good journey.”
He closed the door, and the cars drove off into the city. Etheridge stood and watched them for a moment, and then he heard the rhythmic throb of helicopter blades. He looked up, squinting, and saw the shadow of the helicopter landing on the nearby building. Etheridge heard his radio bleep, and pulled it out of his other pocket.
“Mr. Etheridge?” the radio said, “This is Northern. I’ve landed.”
“I’m on my way,” Etheridge replied, and pushed the radio back into his pocket. He made his way to the nearby building, smiling at somewhat surprised office workers as he took the lift to the roof. A security guard stopped him, but he showed the man his government pass, and the security guard apologised profusely and let him through. When he reached the roof, he saw that the helicopter was quite large, able to carry many people.
“What took you so long?” The pilot shouted cheerfully over the rotor blades. The man’s face was covered by the pilot’s helmet, but Etheridge could see the man’s chin, which had the shape associated with adventure movies, and was covered with day-old stubble. The man was grinning.
“It took a little while to get up here,” Etheridge said, climbing into the helicopter and strapping in. Almost before he’d shut the door, the rotors sped up, and the helicopter took off. The pilot expertly maneuvered the helicopter between the surrounding buildings, until they had risen above them.
“To the airport then, sir?” Northern asked.
“Yes please, Northern,” Etheridge replied. He had flown with Richard Northern before. The man was considered to be the best pilot in Nypolina.
“Alright, sir. We’re on our way.”
The flew over the city, which glistened in the evening sunlight. The streets below bustled with activity, with cars, buses, trains and trucks weaving their way through. Suddenly, as Etheridge watched the city, the helicopter spun around sharply.
“We seem to have a problem, sir,” Northern said, fighting with the controls, “I can’t hold her!”
“What do you mean?” Etheridge shouted, looking at the pilot in horror, “what do you mean you can’t hold her?”
The helicopter spun around again, and then turned on its side. Etheridge stared in terror at the city below, and then the helicopter righted itself. As suddenly as it had begun, the spinning stopped, and the helicopter carried on calmly. Northern chuckled.
“Gotcha,” he said. Etheridge looked at him incredulously.
“You did that?” he asked, putting his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking.
“Yep. Just my little joke,” Northern grinned.
“Your little joke was terrifying.”
“I rather thought it might be,” Northern said, and Etheridge sighed.
“Just don’t do that when we have the delegates on board,” he said. Northern just smiled.
“We’re approaching the airport, sir,” he said, pointing ahead. Etheridge looked and saw the expansive airport ahead of them, the buildings glittering in the sunlight. Northern landed the helicopter carefully on the helipad, and Etheridge climbed out, heading quickly through the building as he heard the roar of the plane from Vastiva landing. Thankfully, the building seemed free of media, although security personnel were still standing guard on the doors to the Royal waiting room.
Etheridge emerged onto the runway as he heard the screech of the tires as the place skidded to a halt. It began to rain, splashing against the tarmac of the runway and against Etheridge’s face. He ran across the runway as the airport staff moved the mobile stairs into place. Presently, a woman appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Are you Mr. Etheridge?” the woman called down.
“Yes, I am,” Etheridge shouted back, as the shower turned into a downpour, “You must be Ambassador Ihaba Svetlana von Steinberg. Welcome to the Kingdom of Nypolina!”
“It is good to be here,” the Ambassador replied, descending the steps. Etheridge bowed politely.
“I hope you had a good journey, Ambassador,” he said.
“It was rather uneventful,” she replied.
“There have been some minor complications,” Etheridge informed her. She looked unsurprised.
“These diplomatic functions are invariably complex to organize,” she said.
“Indeed,” Etheridge said, “not all the delegates from other nations have arrived yet, so we have taken the liberty of providing you and your staff with some temporary accommodation.”
“Alright,” the Ambassador said, and then looked a puddle forming on the runway, “Interesting weather you have here.”
“You could say that,” Etheridge said, and then gestured for the Ambassador to follow him, “This way, please.”
He made his way across the runway, and the Ambassador followed, accompanied by her diplomats and security personnel. They made their way up in the lift, and through the building. Apparently, some of the media had got wind that another diplomatic flight was coming in today, and a few cameras flashed as they made their way through the airport. When they reached the helipad, Etheridge opened the passenger doors to the helicopter, and the Ambassador and her staff climbed in. Etheridge climbed in the front, and a few moments later, the helicopter took off, rising above Anglorrak City and flew off into the torrential rain.

Lady Valdir smiled to herself. They did get the briefing after all...
"Thank you Prime Minister."
She looked around the entrance hall with the vaguely interested air of a tourist, but it was mostly an act.
Her first reaction was to be impressed. Wow. They put a lot of effort into this place...
The second followed on the heels of the first; It seems small... but then, compared to home... I've spent too much time in Arn-Maciska...
Anyone who had ever been to Arn-Maciska would have had the same thought; the Macisikani Imperial Palace had, over the centuries, expanded to merge with the Houses of Parliament, the Divine Sanctuary, and the Duke's Palace, each one having expanded in the same manner; huge didn't begin to describe it. It was so large that people were required to carry mobile phones and trackers in there - some had been known to get lost for decades.
She could almost hear her two companions thinking the same thing.
The bodyguards, members of the elite Temple Guard, showed no signs of awe,
... but that lot would be hard-pressed to show awe at the Gates of Heaven.
She turned to the Prime Minister and gave him a broad smile.
"Prime Minister Malek," she gestured around the room, "this is lovely." She shivered. "And warm. Thank goodness."
The Prime Minister was a canny enough politician and diplomat to recognize the remarks for what they were; genuine compliments, but also small talk to occupy the time until the King made an appearance.
He nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed my lady; winter has come early this year."
"I thought so. It reminds me of Arn-Macisan in autumn, or our capital. Though, in Arn-Macisan, midway through the season it would be snowing."
The Prime Minister smiled "Well, it might be raining, it isn't snowing here yet."
"Thank goodness for small mercies," was the reply, delivered with another smile.

to: Prime Minister Juan Malek
from: Foregin Afairs Minister Akari Naru

We are still waiting for a reply to our last letter we sent,
where we proposed an Alliance.

We are still quite interested in opening up Trade between our two nations,
True we aren't the strongest of nations but Our Military is verry well trained, and we can certinaly help out in defending you if needed; provided of course that you'd be there to help us. We also don't forsee needing your help defending us anytime soon as we are officaly at peace, and don't have any known enimes nearby us.

Bouth myself, and Queen Ramos would like to make a visit to Nyoplina, incase you have any more questions about us, and to setup trade money exchange aggreements.

sincerly
Akari Naru
Foreign Minister for Snowcloud Threads.

The three members of the Diplomatic Service sat comfortably in their chairs aboard the airship 'Skyswimmer' as it plied the air over Sunset Sea, on course for Nypolina. The huge ship sped forward borne aloft by a combination of lighter than air “sails”, the natural wind, and high capacity ducted fans run by a high efficiency electric engine. Power was supplied by the flexible solar cells that covered the sails and back up batteries. 'Skyswimmer' and her sister ships looked ungainly on the ground and seemed impossible to fly, but when they finally were up in the sky they were everything their designers had hoped to them be: true ships of the air, sailing the seas of the sky the way their forebears had sailed the oceans.
Before today, neither Violet Reyes nor Tobias DuBois had met Modoko Hideki in person before the meeting with Miss Paris a few days ago, though they had known each other for some time. That’s not to say they didn’t know Modoko’s reputation quite well, or had failed to miss her many appearances in the media.
‘Now we are all headed to what could be the biggest alliance conference any of us have ever seen,’ Tobias thought. ‘Fortunately it seems that despite all the attention she has received over the years, Modoko is still a very down to earth woman, concerned with finding the best ways to peaceful and beneficial solutions.’
This meshed well with Violet’s attitude of helping others help themselves. Violet believed that if given the right opportunities, people are more than willing to help themselves and others at the same time. People had to want to give, it couldn’t be forced, and trying to force others to see things your way was a sure recipe for discord and possible disaster in the long run. Tobias saw things differently. He believed that while free will was important, sometimes lines had to be drawn, rules enforced and others made to go your way in the name of peace and stability. People respected authority and those who could wield it effectively. Modoko’s views more or less fell between the other two’s.
‘All in all I think we’ve got a good team here,’ mused Tobias ‘I was worried when Miss Paris told us she was going too, but with all the time we’ve been spending working on this, I think it will work out for the better.’
“Are you thinking about the conference or daydreaming Tobias?” Modoko’s question snapped him out of his musings.
“A little of both actually” he replied
Violet smiled, “Well all work makes you dull, so we’ll forgive you.” She sighed “Traveling by airship is always good for daydreaming anyway. Just watching the clouds rolling by…” Violet shook herself slightly and sat up. “But we’re on a mission and we’re not going to have a lot of time when we get there so let’s go over everything one last time.”
“Agreed” Modoko said & Tobias nodded as well.
“So the important point we want to make is sharing of resources. Not only natural, but Human, economic, and technological. The opening of free market between us is a priority as well.” Violet said.
“And as a sign of our desire to be good neighbors, there will be no taxes levied for 5 years. After that time however they will be obliged to pay the standard tax rates when doing business with the borders of Sunset Sea.” Tobias said
“But we can be flexible on that timeframe as the situation mandates, correct?” Modoko asked.
“Of course,” Tobias replied. “We don’t want to cut their businesses off at the knees if they’re not quite established in-country when the deadline rolls around.”
“Besides,” Violet said, “The point of having them there isn’t primarily economic anyway.” She held up a hand as Tobias started to speak. “That isn’t to say I don’t recognize the positive economic impact, but the important part is the free trade of ideas and innovation. Until now we’ve been a rather insular nation, and some “new blood” in the way of creativity is much needed.”
The others both nodded silently.
“In terms of military,” Modoko said, “I don’t see the harm in asking to establish a base or two there. They are peaceful, but they don’t have the population figures to put together a complete armed forces of any formidable size. We on the other hand, have quite a large Self-Defense Force, and seeing as one of their reasons for seeking allies is mutual protection, a properly phrased request could let us keep a portion of our forces in place in case they are attacked. This would also establish a good position from where we can train their own military as they grow their population and establish their own forces.”
Violet frowned. “I’m not sure I like the idea of bringing up any military issues at the beginning of relations. It seems…Imperialistic. At worst admittedly, but it’s still an impression we want to avoid”
“Perhaps, but it’s a valid point, and one we want to open about. We can play that one by ear. If things are going well, we suggest the idea be discussed at least, but that no formal decision has to be made right away,” Modoko said.
Violet nodded and that seemed to end that discussion. Just then the pilot’s voice came over the speakers in the cabin.
“Ladies and Gentlemen we’ve just been given the weather reports for Nypolina and it looks like cold & rain. Our arrival time has been adjusted and we are now looking at an ETA of one hour. Be prepared for some slight turbulence in about 30-40 minutes.”
“Well that covers all the major points I think. Perhaps we’d best prepare for the inclement weather and get something to eat before we land,” Tobias said.


“Now approaching Anglorrak International Airport. Landing will be in 2 minutes. Please check that all items are secured for docking procedures.”
With the final announcement, the delegates finished gathering their heavy layers around them and secured themselves in their landing seats. Looking at the grey day outside they all thought that they were certainly not going to mistaken for locals. Dressed in the many layers of the rich greens, smoldering oranges, deep blues, fiery reds and complex patterns of their homeland, they would be quite a sight indeed. Each layer of the quilted robe-like garments they wore was slightly smaller than the one below it, so that the colors all peeked out at the hem, neck, and wrists. They also wore the fleece-lined, soft leather boots favored for colder weather, though it was rarely what most would call cold in Sunset Sea. Each robe had a small rendering of the Setting Sun crest embroidered on it just above the breast on each side on the front, and just below the base of the neck on the back.
As the great ship settled onto the ground and made it’s final docking checks, the delegates made their way to the gangway hatch to await their Protectors so they could disembark. The Laws & Charters required that any member of Government or any delegate traveling outside of Sunset Sea have a Protector in company at all times. While most understood the need for security, some people still tried everything they could to keep from having a Protector with them. Protectors were specially trained to be inconspicuous and non-threatening unless absolutely necessary, while still keeping a sharp eye for danger to their charges. They carried minimum armament, if they carried any at all. Protectors were also trained in several forms of unarmed as well improvised weapon combat. The delegates’ Protectors wore a more streamlined and slightly less vibrant version of what the delegates were wearing, though their boots were heavier and more appropriate for tougher wear.
Finally everyone was gathered and the hatch opened onto the scene at the airport. The delegates went first, followed by their Protectors, and then their small staff descended the stairs to the ground to be met by the official from Nypolina.

To our Friends in Nypolina,

We in the free Republic are certainly aware of and side with most of your national policies. We also applaud you in your search for peaceful allies and your commitment to diplomacy. The Free Republic would certainly be interested in negotiating a normalization treaty with your nation. However that is as far as it would go. The Constitution of the Free Republic in no un-certain terms bars the Republican Council from making alliances with dictatorships, monarchies or imperialist nations. While we do believe it is your nations sovereign right to rule as is set down by your laws and customs, we cannot become allied to your nation.

We do however hold open the possibilty of normalizing relations and possibly exchanging Diplomatic Missions and possibly Embassies in the future.

We wish you the best of luck in finding peaceful allies, a difficult task in this uncertain world.

Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ilek-Vaad

Ambassador Ihaba Svetlana von Steinberg all but stormed to the door of the plane. It was bad enough being on a ten hour flight. An additional hour of being routed in a circle was just too much to bear.

Almost.

At the door, she considered the rest of her team. The two green-robed bodyguards were dispassionate, as always. They carried their FNP90s with the casual grace of someone who can use their weapons, use them well, but wouldn't have to touch them to destroy you and yours back for three generations. The secretaries too had a quiet air of professionalism about them. One straightened his cuffs while the other fixed her hood into place.

The trade delegation was another episode entirely. Six people of this caliber should not be confined to any space with anyone other then hardened criminals in need of mental torture. It was bad enough they had money to burn - their VCU cards and letters of credit would see to that. The problem was their lack of... "experience with the outer world".

Feh. Another episode of 'maw and paw kettle come to town'. Hicks with money. Feh feh and ptooie!

To them, however, she smiled gracefully. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are entering a foreign country. Do be good enough not to embarass Vastiva."

With that, the door swung open and she made her way out into the Nypolinan airport.

Government Offices, Anglorrak City, Nypolina.

Charlotte Fenner was busy. This in itself was not surprising; all the officials of Nypolina’s government were almost constantly busy. However, today she was snowed under by paperwork and meetings. She walked briskly down the corridor, her heels echoing. Fenner had just finished the fourth meeting of the day, and was on her way to her office to sort some of the paperwork before the next one. Her phone rang, and she shifted all the work she was carrying to one arm, where she balanced it precariously. She fumbled in her pocket, and found her phone, flipping it open.
“Fenner,” she answered.
“It’s Etheridge.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I need someone to go out to the airport and meeting the delegates from Sunset Sea. They’re arriving soon.”
“Can’t Donohue do it? I’m very busy.”
“He’s organizing the routes for the delegates to take on their way to the conference center.”
Fenner sighed.
“Alright, I’ll do it. When?”
“They’re arriving within the next hour.”
“Any idea what part of the airport?”
“No, sorry. But I think you’ll notice them ok. They’re flying in by airship.”
“You’ll have cars ready, I presume?”
“Of course. We’ve given them a luxury flat in that big complex that looks over the lake. You know it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Thanks, Charlotte.”
He put the phone down and Fenner pressed the button to cancel the call and pushed the phone back in her pocket. She headed for her office to drop off all this paperwork, and then she’d head down to the car park and drive out to the airport.

The Royal Palace, Anglorrak City, Nypolina.

Prime Minister Juan Malek gestured for Lady Valdir of Macisikan to follow him. They had to reach the formal banqueting hall on the fourth floor, where the many Royal Maids would have set out the long, oaken banqueting table, and lit the graceful candles along it. They made their way up one of the enormous staircases and to the Vistor’s Lift, where the two Royal Guards stood aside. Malek, Lady Valdir, and her bodyguards stepped into the lift. It was designed for diplomats and their staff, so was spacious, and all of them could stand in it comfortably as Malek pressed the button for the fourth floor.
“The banqueting hall, Your Ladyship,” he explained, as she raised a quizzical eyebrow. She nodded.
“I assume you do not object to my bringing my bodyguards with me, Prime Minister?”
Malek smiled, since it had not been a question, but Her Ladyship politely telling him that they would be present.
“That’s fine,” he said, as the lift pinged, and the doors opened out onto a large hallway.
“Please follow me, My Lady,” Malek said, and stepped out into the hallway, leading her and her bodyguards along the hallway. There were many windows along here, looking out onto the lovingly manicured Royal Gardens. Presently, they reached the massive doors that lead into the banqueting hall. This pair of doors had obviously been designed to impress, and a Royal Guard stood on either side. They saluted as the Prime Minister approached, and opened the door.
“Very nice,” Lady Valdir said, looking around the huge room as they walked in. The ceiling was intricately carved and sculpted, and the walls were adorned with detailed tapestries. In the centre of the room was the gigantic banqueting table, polished until it reflected the flickering candles along it. It was laid out with places for Lady Valdir, the King, and her bodyguards. The King was not yet there.
“You will not be joining us for dinner, Prime Minister?” Lady Valdir inquired in mild surprise. Malek bowed politely.
“No, Your Ladyship. I have things to attend to, as I am sure you will understand.”
“Of course,” she nodded.
“Please, take a seat, My Lady,” Malek said, pulling out a chair. Lady Valdir smiled.
“Thank you,” she said, sitting down. Her bodyguards sat in their places near her.
Presently, the doors on the other side of the room swung open, and His Majesty, the King of Nypolina entered. He was dressed in his formal clothes; a red robe with a white trim, and underneath that, his expensive silk shirt and trousers. He wore the Crown of Nypolina on his head, and it glittered in the candlelight.
“Your Majesty,” Lady Valdir said, inclining her head politely. King Daniel Renegar smiled and inclined his head in reply.
“Your Ladyship,” he said, sitting down, “I hope you had a good journey?”
Malek sidled quietly out of the room as Lady Valdir and the King began talking, and made his way along the hallway.

Anglorrak International Airport, Anglorrak City, Nypolina.

Fenner could see the airship approaching in the cloudy skies. She had read up on the airship they were traveling in before she had driven out here, and she could see why it was named the “Skyswimmer.” It literally swam through the air towards the airport, and as the craft gracefully floated above the airport, Fenner could see how intricately designed it was. She was aware that her mouth was open, and closed it.
“We really must discuss exchanging some designs,” she said to herself, “we could do with something like that! Especially on the tourism side of things.”
She watched the ship landing gently on the runway outside, and hurried to the lift, taking out her pad and pen, and scribbling suggestions for the use of such a ship. She stuffed the pen and pad back inside her jacket as the lift doors opened onto the cold airport.
“We could use it for tours over our rainforests,” she mused to herself as she walked across the runway towards the airship, “and it wouldn’t cause pollution, or damage to the environment! I really must talk to Juan about this.”
She reached the large airship, and waited patiently at the door. After a few moments, it slid open and the delegates from Sunset Sea walked down the stairs. They were dressed in lavish robes of many colours, and Fenner shifted somewhat uncomfortably in her grey suit. The delegates’ bodyguards followed them, looking at Fenner with apparent indifference. She smiled at the delegates and their bodyguards.
“Welcome to Nypolina,” she said, offering her hand. The delegate at the head of the group took it and smiled warmly.
“Thank you,” she said, “you must be Charlotte Fenner, the Official for Tourism?”
Fenner nodded.
“I see you’ve done your research,” she grinned, “I’m sorry the Prime Minister couldn’t be here, but he is very busy.”
“That’s understandable,” the delegate replied.
“There is still some organization to take place before the conference,” Fenner explained, “so if it is to your satisfaction, we have a secure, luxury flat available for you.”
“That is alright,” the delegate said, and Fenner gestured for them to follow her across the runway to the cars. Everyone climbed inside, and the cars began the journey through the city, with the streets crowded with interested onlookers.

"My journey was... productive, thank you. I trust that your majesty is well?"
The King smiled. "Yes, I am."
"Your majesty, allow me to introduce my companions," she indicated the man sitting on her right, "this is Archdeacon Marcus Aldira, member of the diplomatic corps and a ranking member of the Church."
"Your Majesty." The Archdeacon bowed.
Then she turned to the youth on her left
"And this is Alexius Vattyen, Junior Special Envoy and nephew of her excellency the First Minister."
"Your Majesty." Alexius also bowed.
"Might I say-" Lady Valdir began, then Alexius' mobile went off.
"Excuse me, your majesty, milady."
The others watched as Alexius stood and moved away from the table, talking softly in Macisikani into his mobile.
Lady Valdir turned back to the King.
"I apologise for this; Alexius' phone is actually a diplomatic line, cleared for high-priority calls from Arn-Maciska".
The King nodded, of course it made sense; Valdir's superiors would need a way of communicating urgent business in the shortest time to her.
Alexius hung up, and returned to the table.
"Sorry about that, my lady, priority call from Sir Silvanas-" he bent to whisper in Lady Valdir's ear.
The Archdeacon turned to the King.
"Sir Silvanas is the Secretary of State for Trade your majesty," he said by way of explanation, "rather, Trade External; he deals with most matters relating to trade with nations outside of the Empire."
King Daniel frowned slightly, it sounded important. Hopefully, it was good news.
Lady Valdir nodded, and whispered to Alexius, who pulled out his mobile again and dialed Arn-Maciska.
"Thank you for waiting your majesty. It seems we may have more to talk about that we originally thought. Apparently the King Five, that is our five major trading companies, have pulled out of the region of Klatch."
"May I inquire as to why?" asked the King out of curiosity.
"It's just too unstable; the King Five must have decided that it just wasn't worth it anymore. This does mean that they will be looking for new markets to export goods to, though."
"You see, your majesty," the Archdeacon leaned forward, "there is a saying in quite a few parts of the world. It goes "The Macisikani trade everywhere they go, and they go everywhere". That is mostly true. We generally don't bother going to areas where we can't turn a profit, but apart from that..." he shrugged, and Valdir took over smoothly.
"Our rigid adherence to our neutrality is actually very useful; we can go places where others would come to grief without worrying about, oh I don't know, being blown up for example. There are other benefits; being a known Neutral nation-" somehow Valdir managed to accentuate the capital N, "- means that we are ideal for mediation between warring sides, and are also provide a great place for two, or more, hostile nations to trade with each other. It also means that two, or more, such nations can find ways of ending their fights without losing face."
"Of course neutrality isn't always a protection," the Archdeacon said, "sometimes we have to be a little forceful in reminding people of our status."
"Macisikani weapons give third parties second thoughts," quipped Lady Valdir.
"Mind you, there is a nicer side to this," the Archdeacon said with a smile, "we are in an ideal position to provide humanitarian aid to people caught up in wars, disasters, and so on. It's what the Rotovians term the warm fuzzy feeling."
Valdir smiled again.
"And of course, for our embassy partners, there are certain benefits to having a relationship with Macisikan..."

Ihaba was... tired.

The initial meetings had gone well. The travel to their lodgings had gone well.

When the trade delegation had decided to go sightseeing, that had not gone well.

First was the trip to the bank. Setting up a discretionary credit account was not that difficult - VCU and letters of credit should have sufficed. And the bank president didn't seem to mind the requirement of mailing a credit card to the Sultan - he took that rather well.

It was the several valises full of "loose change" in the form of several dozen currencies - well, she thought to herself, let us say that did not go 'very well'.

She had managed to 'herd the cats' to a mere three shopping excursions. Why grown men were fascinated with simple toys still eluded her - there were now packages taking up a full wall of their living room, and if it had not been for Ihaba's invoking the Wrath of Sinjin on any who missed the conference, they might still be trying to fill space with more... junk.

Ihaba sighed, reached for her waterglass and considered calling for some sort of food before the conference. She also resolved to leave the 'Clampetts' here when it started - preferably under guard. For Nypolina's protection.

Luxury Flats, Nypolia

Colonel Fires stood on the balcony, overlooking the city. It was a rather nice city, he thought, much reminiscent of Transnapa City, back home. He wondered how everything was going.

“About that time, Colonel.” Stated Harrison, from the doorway

“Indeed, I’ll be in after a second, the clean air…its nice here, it’s better than the recycled air at Valhalla, for sure.” Said Fires, almost to himself, Harrison made a sound of wordless agreement

Colonel Fires stood up, and walked inside, he pulled a briefcase from under his bed, and opened it, inside, was a mobile satellite transmitter, able to reach Transnapastain through any number of satellites in position in orbit. Though, only at certain times. He pointed the small transmitter towards the window, and powered up the device. It displayed the Transnapastani Seal, and, after a few brief seconds, the face of General Davis.

“General Davis here, all going well Colonel?” asked the general

“Aye, sir, all is well, nothing much as happened, some nations are still arriving, this event is bigger than we thought, so, we’re still waiting. Harrison took some of the ACR’s down to the local PD firing range, for a demonstration. That’s about where we stand sir.” He concluded

“Understood, well, keep me informed, we hope to have you back soon.” Replied the General.

“Yes sir, signing out.” He said, and closed the transmission

Sarrowquand News channel 8:

This is Veronica Stephens and this is news channel eight.

Tonight we bring you sad news, fifteen minutes ago First speaker Julius Etchells aged eighty four was declared officially dead. Details at the moment are scant but it is believed that a government statement will be released later today.

Speculation is rife as to whether his niece the fifteenth speaker Enid Etchells will be the Councillor selected to deliver the statement to the media.

Julius Etchells was well loved for his liberal policies. Always a strong supporter of democracy and the welfare state he was also instrumental in last years rainforest protection act despite opposition from ‘uranium hungry’ factions within the council…….

Nypolina: Anglorrak City

The Diplomatic team sat dumbstruck before the ambassadorial suite’s widescreen television. No one moved, everybody was to fixated on Sarrowquand’s international news channel. Veronica Stephens had started crying now; Daron Smite recalled that she had conducted a lengthy interview with Julius just a month ago regarding his rainforest policies, it was a move that had made her career and Julius had requested her personally.

He glanced briefly around the room, the entire diplomatic team seemed to be on the verge of tears; no not all there was one exception. Jessie Mclauchlin sat there with a very strange look on her face it seemed as though she was somewhere between acceptance and disbelief, the two conflicting emotions washed around her just below the level of a true expression neither allowing the other enough dominance to manifest. Daron couldn’t understand it but he had bigger problems to deal with now.

OOC: Terribly sorry about the wait, I completely forgot about this thread. Btw, Kriegorgrad is very technological in parts but it has a very old feel to it, some parts (like the palace) try to keep it's ancient heritage.

When you see "I", no, its not some homeboy or towny thing, its an inquisitorial symbol that is heavily decorated.

IC: Kurthul's boots make a shrill squeak on the floor, piercing the eery silence of the long hall crafted of dark marble, pillars that climbed high into the shadows of the ceiling above, intricate patterns twirled and entwined upon the ceiling yet none could appreciate them as the dark that loomed overhead hoarded the age old intricacies to itself.

Kurthul kept walking as he came to the huge oak double-doors that barred the way to the throne chamber, two armoured guards with spears clutched their weapons to their chests' as the uneasy messenger walked, two steel rings that passed for door handles sat idle while a dark iron lion's head lay above the steel rings, its face cracking down the middle where the two doors would part when opened.

Merkril saw as the uneasy messenger approached, he breathed heavily inside his iron helmet, seeing only through the small holes that allowed light to play across his eyes. Merkril then saw what the messenger carried and allowed him to pass, his mailed hand clenching the spear close to his heart as he withdrew it from it's position of crossing the other spears shaft like his comrade's did his own.

Kurthul made his way across the last stretch uneasily, his hands felt around the cold steel ring, he gave it a gentle tug; he took a second to admire the iron vines climbing the sides of the door, the door didn't budge. Kurthul gave it a hard tug and the door finally gave way, the lion's face cracking open as light poured across Kurthul's face, he began to shuffle his feet into the grand chamber, pillars lining the path up to the great marble throne upon which Kriegor Zan Varr sat.

Kriegor Zan Varr's eyes snapped to the door as soon as it seemed to groan open, for after what seemed an eternity, the great oak door disgorged a messenger, his head hanging low as he shuffled his way to the throne, Kriegor gave a quick glance to the shadows beyond the pillars, his guards stood ready, as always.

Kurthul's feet kept dragging, he lifted his head just enough to see that their were numerous clerks and sages at his side a number of them scribbling in their note books with quills, ink pots littered an old wood table nearby, maps littered the batter old thing along with leather bound books and numerous other miscaelanneous items.

At last, Kurthul was before Kriegor Zan Varr, he bowed before his master, proffering the report, one of the scribes plucked it from his waiting hands, before handing it to Kriegor Zan Varr.

Kriegor's eyes scanned the report, the elaborate writing forced Kriegor to strain his eyes, dark black eyes took on a satisfied glint before raising his head; the chamber seemed to hold it's breath, before saying a flat and simple "good." Kriegor then passed it to the erudite group, who promptly fought over it like children before a balding old man with a large golden "I" sitting on chest, dangling on a thin chain that stretched around his wiry neck. The balding old man began to write in an elaborate text while the rest of the scribes and sage's looked over his shoulder.


Greetings, I am glad the feeling of friendship is mutual, we hope for a profitable and interesting future with Nypolina.

Yours, High Inquistorial Lord Matthias Zan De Thiros

OOC: Sorry, I just saw the message that you sent to Kriegorgrad on page one.

IC: Matthias clenched his eyes shut as the 747 touched down on the tarmac, making the piercing screech that came from rubber being burnt by high-speed landings. Matthias waited for a few minutes while the air-dock was attached to the plane before the pilot chimed over "Passengers are allowed to disembark" with a hint of sarcasm, the only passengers were Matthias and his personal staff. And the stewards/stewardess'.

A few minutes later, Matthias was striding off the plane, two Kriegos Death Korp in two, each look fearsome despite the lack of the usual gasmasks worn by the KDK- also the openly displayed AK74s didn't help quell the tension.

Matthias looked resplendent in his Inquisitorial armour, gold plated shoulder pads were all that he wore, bullet holes showed where he had taken hits in the battle for Kili'kuk, he wore a short scar at his left cheek and his dark green eyes glimmered with menace.

The Inquisitorial Lord looked with a hint of amusement as one of the security guards went for a phone and began to fumble some digits in before dropping it. Matthias felt a pang of pity after seeing the man's face, thus he strode over; his dark black cane topped by an orb of crystal was held before him like the scepter it appeared to be, and showed the man some papers, his face loosened while his figure sagged before heaving a sigh of relief.

(OOC: I thought I'd leave this part open, just to see how the guard takes to seeing armed men in his airport and sorry for the bad post, its nearly my bed time and my tummy is hurting :P)

King Haakon and Prime Minister Anne Eriksen were discussing the possibility of an alliance with Nypolina. "What are their politics like? If we're going to ally with a small nation, they better at least agree with us on some things."

"They appear to be a left-leaning college state. Pretty nice." Anne Eriksen, a socialist, kept a look out for possible allies. She still did not trust some of the other members of the regional alliance, and suspected it might dissolve as soon as the war was over.

"All right, we'll send them an offer for an alliance then." King had an aide type out a formal alliance offer, which he then signed.

Alliance offer:
"To the nation of Nypolina: We are interested in the possibility of Callisdrun and Nypolina becoming allies. Of course this would not obligate your nation to participate in the war in our region, as that would be entirely unfair. An alliance between our nations would be a bi-lateral treaty only. If it pleases your nation to ally with us, be so kind as to specify the exact terms of the agreement.

-King Haakon IX"

OOC: Sorry for delay. Been kind of busy. Will continue soon, hopefully.

OOC: Sorry, I just saw the message that you sent to Kriegorgrad on page one.

IC: Matthias clenched his eyes shut as the 747 touched down on the tarmac, making the piercing screech that came from rubber being burnt by high-speed landings. Matthias waited for a few minutes while the air-dock was attached to the plane before the pilot chimed over "Passengers are allowed to disembark" with a hint of sarcasm, the only passengers were Matthias and his personal staff. And the stewards/stewardess'.

A few minutes later, Matthias was striding off the plane, two Kriegos Death Korp in two, each look fearsome despite the lack of the usual gasmasks worn by the KDK- also the openly displayed AK74s didn't help quell the tension.

Matthias looked resplendent in his Inquisitorial armour, gold plated shoulder pads were all that he wore, bullet holes showed where he had taken hits in the battle for Kili'kuk, he wore a short scar at his left cheek and his dark green eyes glimmered with menace.

The Inquisitorial Lord looked with a hint of amusement as one of the security guards went for a phone and began to fumble some digits in before dropping it. Matthias felt a pang of pity after seeing the man's face, thus he strode over; his dark black cane topped by an orb of crystal was held before him like the scepter it appeared to be, and showed the man some papers, his face loosened while his figure sagged before heaving a sigh of relief.

(OOC: I thought I'd leave this part open, just to see how the guard takes to seeing armed men in his airport and sorry for the bad post, its nearly my bed time and my tummy is hurting :P)

OOC: Flat cola.

OOC: Flat cola.

Meaning? I've got the gist but could you clarify just for simplicity.

Meaning? I've got the gist but could you clarify just for simplicity.

OOC: Flat cola fixes tummy upset.

ooc:
I've tried posting icly a few times, and I've yet to see any reply
if I have somehow missed it I am quite sorry but can out point it out to me then?

to: Prime Minister Juan Malek
from: Foregin Afairs Minister Akari Naru

We are still waiting for a reply to our last letter we sent,
where we proposed an Alliance.

We are still quite interested in opening up Trade between our two nations,
True we aren't the strongest of nations but Our Military is verry well trained, and we can certinaly help out in defending you if needed; provided of course that you'd be there to help us. We also don't forsee needing your help defending us anytime soon as we are officaly at peace, and don't have any known enimes nearby us.

Bouth myself, and Queen Ramos would like to make a visit to Nyoplina, incase you have any more questions about us, and to setup trade money exchange aggreements.

sincerly
Akari Naru
Foreign Minister for Snowcloud Threads.

OOC: When in doubt, be interesting so if Akari Naru is up to it...

IC:
Ihaba nearly bumped into the well-dressed man. "Hmmm, obviously a diplomat... and as Cas has the trade people tied up at the moment..."

She dips her head, almost in a bow as if to cover a blush. "So sorry, many apologies, are you injured? No? I apologise most deeply for my clumsiness.
Ah, I seem to have spilled a bit of coffee on your suit... it will probably come out... so sorry... if you would be so kind as to forward the bill to the Vastivan delegation, most certainly we will take care of it..."

She stands and gives another slight head bow. "Many apologies, I am being forward. Ihaba Svetlana von Steinberg, ambassador for Vastiva."