NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is a continuation from the Investment opportunities in Antiia thread, found here: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=8798490#post8798490 Anyone else who wishes to join in is welcome, though I ask that you either post in the other thread first, or TG me.

IC:

*Royal Palace, Capital city of Antioch*

Minister of Foreign Affairs James Westfield stood upon one of the balconies facing the Antioch shoreline, where countless construction crews were busy putting the recent billions being invested into Antiia to good use, greatly expanding and upgrading the docks, adding in massive new sections, constructing new shipyards capable of building the massive several hundred thousand ton freighters that would carry oil from Antiia to the world. Already, existing shipyards were busy construcing new patrol ships for the navy, and bulk freighters to carry lumber, foodstuffs, minerals, and finished goods from across Antiia to international markets.

The scene was similar across Antiia, with new mines being established across the north, thousands of acres out west being turned into fields, orchards, and pastures for animals to graze. Even Antioch itself looked as though it had been through a terrible war, with construction on every block as new factories, office buildings, and commercial complexes sprout up across the city.

Minister Westfield turned back to the palace, as servants and even soldiers rushed to ready it for the coming conference. Some redecorating was occuring, a company of Royal Guards was being kicked out of their palace barracks as the barracks filled with bunks were ripped apart and turned into comfortable bedrooms for guests. A nearby hotel, the Royal Lion, had been rented out by the government to house Antiian and foreign business leaders who would no doubt want to meet to make deals, get familiar with each other, and discuss the specifics of recent investments.

Just outside the palace, a set of sleek black limos, sedans, and SUVs were waiting for Westfield to join them, to head to the Antioch International Airport, itself undergoing considerable renovations, to greet the guests.

Westfield took in one last look as the various workers working to the last minute to have everything ready and perfect, and rushed outside to join the motorcade as it sped off towards the airport.

President Harsimran was sitting anxious about todays meeting. He would meet with Antiian officials to discuss Space Union's investments in Antiian's economy.

"Sir, we are getting ready to land in the airport," said the pilot.
"Very well," President Harsimran got up to look outside of his plane. He could see from even at this altitude all the progress being made in Antiia.

"Sir, currently one of Antiian's officials are at the airport ready to greet us once we come out. We will then go to the Conference Area and discuss the impending matters," said Harsimran's close advisor Maya Ito

"Okay, I'm ready. But do you think it was a good idea on my part to invest in their economy?"

"Sir, I think that it was the correct thing. If this succeeds we will have a lucrative new trading partner, have a major portion of their oil, steel, uranium, and other mineral industries. This will bring prices down all over Space Union. This will work splendly to bring the high gas prices down and promote you energy bill." said Maya Ito

"I hope so because if this doesn't succeed we will have to be confronted by Congress and have some serious answering to do. $500 billion is no little deal that you can easily give away without return." replyed the President.

"Sir, we are landing in 5 minutes so strap you seatbelts on," said the Co-Pilot.

Harsimran and Maya Ito sat down and buckled themselves. Harsimran looked out of the window again to see the sparkling beaches and open shores. He could also make out construction from all the way up at that altitude.

The plane entered the airport airspace and requested for landing:

"I request landing premission, roger."

"Roger, that. You have premission to land." replyed the Air Controller

The plane moved toward the runway as it started decending. Soon it was almost touching the ground. At 1:42 P.M., the plane touched down with a silent thud on the runway. In only 5 minutes the aircraft had pulled into its slot.

"Mr. President you may no unboard the aircraft."

Harsimran and Maya Ito began walking out of the airport. They told the SPSG agents to get their luggage. As they walked through the airport they saw the Antiian's official and walked up to him.

"Hello, I'm President Harsimran and this is Maya Ito, my close advisor. We come from Space Union and want to talk about the investments."

"Welcome, Mr. President. My name is James Westfield. I'm the Foreign Affairs Minister of Antiia. Come with us to the limo so we can go to the limo and let you get ready for your meeting." said James

The three men and their guards shuffled out of the airport and got into the car. Outside the airport was a crowd of people both angry and happy to see Space Union officials. Harsimran hoped when he came back that there would be only supportive people there.

-|- Antioch, Antiia -|-

Prefect Kataan sat inside the long limo as it cruised down one of the main thoroughfares of Antiia's Captiol City. He gazed in awe at the size of the city, and could only hope that Lakuria one day sat in the same splendor.

"We're approaching the Palace, Mr. Prefect."

With a sigh Daylon turned back to the stack of papers that sat on the small service tray across his lap. In the folders were the proposals for Antiia and her Queen on the funds and materials Lakuria was prepared to offer for the services of Antiia, as well as the terms for an alliance, per request of the Queen.

"Very well, Davik," he said to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, who sat at an angle to him. "Have the driver call ahead so they'll be ready for us."

"With all due respect, Mr. Prefect, I believe they are ready."

"Very well. Take us in."

OOC: I'm here...sorry it's late.

OOC: I've been to busy recently to be able to put in a full post, I will try later today. Sorry about this.

Antioch, Antiia
Minister Alexander Perkins of Foreign Affairs exited the private jet, followed by the two leaders of the Grand Imperium of Risban: Emperor Robinson Antares Scorpius and new Empress Nora Courtney Scorpius. It was rare for the Foreign Affairs Minister and both the Emperor and the Chancellor of Parliament to travel to the same place, but they did it nonetheless.
Of course, accompanying the Risban Delegation was a company (25 men) of High Guards, the most trained guardians in the Risban Imperium. Ten of the twenty-five wore their cusomary Roman Legionnaire style of armor, with green capes bearing the Seal of Risban flowing behind them. This was more ceremonial; just for show. The other fifteen High Guards wore black suits.
Emperor Scorpius glanced around at the airport. "Hmm... This place doesn't look too bad," he murmured.
"What, were you expecting some dump?" teased the new empress. "You thought you let Lord Plutus invest cash in somewhere that looked bad?"
"Oh, hush..."
"Ah," said Perkins, ignoring the couple as he saw the motorcade. "Here comes our escort..."

Alistair Tetley glanced downwards through his thin synthetic glass lens to skim once more the prepared report sitting on his lap about the nation of Antiia; to his right sat the petite woman in charge of foreign affairs, Emily Deveraux, who had initiated diplomatic relations with the new nation. He slowly sipped a hot cup of tea, sweetened with milk and sugar, as the above seatbelt light flashed on, alerting Tetley to the impending descent of his official transport. “Well, Em, it’s about time we land.”

Emily Deveraux, thin and quite attractive in her thirties, smiled back at her boss. “I don’t know why you have such a dislike of flying. It’s so much faster than those silly boats you prefer.”

“Ahh, yes, they are; but they lack a certain degree of history and formality for making official visits. Can you imagine the feeling of stepping off a sailing ship onto a specially prepared wharf with the salt-air flooding your nostrils, and brightly coloured merchant shops lining the path to your meeting? Instead, we replace with it concrete tarmacs and the smell of gasoline.” Tetley paused to chuckle, aware of Deveraux’s mockery of his preference for history and traditions. “But then again, I suppose that’s why you’re the foreign minister, and I’m merely the PM, you have to fly more than I.”

Deveraux rested back in her chair, her lips turning upwards in one of her characteristically coy smiles. “Either way, Alistair, we’re flying back.”

The small jet aircraft landed smoothly on the Antiian runway with no significant spillage of any drinks onboard, although one secretary caught taking a swig of coffee as the tires slammed into the concrete found himself with a stained suit. Tetley and Deveraux, the two most senior government representatives, unfastened their lap belts as the plane began taxiing to the appropriate location on the Antiian tarmac. In the rear of the plane a few diplomatic security officers readied themselves to defend the Prime Minister with their lives – though they would remain in the background, acting as unobtrusively as possible. Tetley had initiated some reforms of the service, seeking to tone down the militaristic overtones of large and fancy guard forces – which made no sense in a peaceful state focused on commerce.

As the door opened, Tetley found himself greeted by the Antiian envoy and with as little fanfare as possible, the leader of the United Kingdom of Azazia made his way to the conference with Deveraux and a league of secretaries and underlings following close behind.