NationStates Jolt Archive

<RP NOTE: This is a closed RP between the nations of Lestressia and Corennia. Others may watch, and even post OOC (Out of Character) comments as long as they are not superflourous, nor do they impede the flow of Roleplaying. Other nations may join in only through petitioning both Lestressia and Corennia, with a viable reason for entering. If you're a good RPer though, don't be shy.>

Lestrassia City was thick with fog. This wasn't terribly unusual, even at this late afternoon hour, but it did serve to cast a gloomy pall over the proceedings in the plaza before the Palace.

A small body of soldiers was performing drills before what was once a statue of the dictator that dwelled in the aforementioned palace. Now, however, the bleak pedestal supported a small and decidedly unhappy woman, sitting cross-legged on the remains of a foot. She watched the rows of young men and women in their crisp black greatcoats, green and red sashes immaculately pressed, snappily performing each motion called by a sergeant as if it were a particularly harsh dance.

'S' terrible, isn't it?' she said to the similarly-uniformed man standing at the base of the pedestal.

'I don't know about that, Miss Bones,' he replied. 'They seem to be picking up on the drills rather well.'

'Can they fight, General Andalou?' Prime Minister Amelia Bones asked with a sigh. 'It's somewhat of a concern of mine.'

'Do they need to?' The general cocked his head at her. 'We did reasonably well throwing out the previous owner of your chair without a traditional force, I think.'

The PM shook her head. 'If someone were to make a proper effort at invading, snipers and Molotov cocktails probably aren't enough,' she said. 'And besides, we have enough trouble with the gangs in the outlying villages. Intelligence has been disappearing the influencial members there, but it's really not helping. We need something visible.'

Andalou pursed his lips. 'We've exchanged ambassadors with a few more... Militaristic nations,' he said, slowly. 'I can't promise you that we can muster anything serious - that'll still be Intelligence's job - but I can give you something.'

'It would please me greatly. Thank you, General.' Looking a bit more upbeat despite the fog, the woman hopped down from the pedestal and vanished into the gates behind.

The blades of the diplomatic chopper cut in their pitch, grinding slowly to a halt as a straight laced man of 57 hopped off, straightening his plain blue suit and matching tie from the wind. His short salt-and-pepper hair didn't exactly scream diplomat.

And neither did the salute from as similarly suited man in sunglasses. But the nod was a different story. "Alright son, tell me about this decreped mess I've been assigned too."

"Nothing much to tell, Mr. Ambassador. Standard boy-meets girl, girl takes over military junta-"

"Yeah, yeah," Ambs. Collour waved his hands dissmissivly, "Spare me the history lesson and get on to the current events... Captain was is?" "Yes Sir." "Alright Captain, care to explain to me why I need an entire squad of greens as for my protection detail, or why-"

The Captain inturrupted, "I understand you've spent a longer time in this uniform then I have Sir, but frankly, I don't give a damn. Were short on time, and your meeting whichever muckymuck was on the right side of this powerstruggle. My detail was shot at several times by nationalist forces just getting here, so just-"

"If your going to be direct, Captain Julliard, be direct. Lets get this over with. I need a shower."

Ambassador Collour wasn't horribly worried about this posting. Dispite the Captain's misgivings, intelligence said it was mostly stable... whatever intelligence they could get anyway. Spies here didn't have the habit of staying spies long. Which is why the seasoned officer-turned diplomat was carrying a Browning HP, just like the rest of the suits assigned to him.

Despite the fighting still going on around the borders, Lestrassia City was about as peaceful as can be hoped. The city was clearly picking itself up, and the business districts were abuzz with commerce. Here and there, however, groups of workers scurried about, plastering shut bullet holes in walls and rebuilding bombed-out structures.

The Palace was still in relatively pristine condition, however. Or at least, it was spared the brunt of armed conflict. On the inside, carpenters were frantic with the second major renovation in the century, preparing the building for the autumn arrival of the Parliament. The sound of hammers and saws resounds through the entire place, and it is a small wonder that the office Ambassador Collour is escorted to is so very quiet. The walls were bound on all sides with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and the mahogany desk was graced with a bust of Xenophon. Its occupant, an older man wearing an even older suit, had already risen to greet his visitor.

'Ambassador Collour, I presume,' he said with a bit of an accent, offering his hand. 'Martin Andresse, interim minister for foreign affairs. I apologise that Prime Minister Bones could not meet with you in person, but she is attending an emergency conference at the moment. Shall we get right to business?'

He stepped around the desk to the window and gestured out, where the sound of drills could again be heard.

'They do this every damn' day, you know,' he said ruefully. 'Makes it impossible to get anything done. But, you see...' He shrugged. 'It's about all they're good at. A grassroots rebellion was enough to bring down the last government, but Miss Bones wants to have a standing military. There are still some, ah... Recaltrant areas, that are proving quite immovable with our current methods.' He turned to Collour. 'So, our General Andalou asked me to ask you for the favour of making them into something more than window-dressing.' The minister tilted his head slightly, awaiting the response.

Collour's entrance was discreet and quiet enough. Of the three guards following him, two took position in the hallway outside of the quiet office, while the Captain followed the Ambassador inside, posting himself to the side of the door, clicking to attention, and moving to parade rest. Bret (The Ambassador) had been given a crop more experienced in ceremonial watch then actually protecting a detail in the field... But these people were trying.

Wincing behind the Minister, the diplomat shook his head quietly, "If thats good, I really wonder how you folks would've'd managed to overthrow anything /electorially/, much less militarily." Stepping back, he doesn't offer an apology, his gruff tone obviously analogous to his deameanor.

"You want our men to train..." He motions, "/That/?" Hrming for a minute, "What are you prepared to give the Democratic Union in return for her aid in this matter?" He may not have been a good diplomat, but years in the military had preatty much turned him into a decent politician.

Andresse chuckled at this. 'We convinced hundreds of people to take up bricks, darts, and Molotov cocktails at the beginning, Ambassador,' he said wryly. 'What you see here are a selection of those who fancied doing it for a living. Now, as to what we can offer...' He walked back over to his desk and shuffled through some papers. 'We can certainly pay handsomely, in gold if you don't want Lestrassian Pounds - which you don't, but you didn't hear me say that - we've got a bit of uranium kicking around in some mines somewhere, if that's your fancy, and we certainly have a few toys that Intelligence swears by. And, of course, we'd be more than happy to open trade and have embassies built as soon as things quiet down in the north. Our rail system is rather frightful, but that can be put straight soon enough.' He pushed an open folder across the desk, the volumnous papers within detailing all of this. 'Well?'

Bret had to think about that for a minute. Leaning against a wall, he pondered, "Gold is out of the question. So is your money. Even if it /was/ worth something beyond the good word of your Prime Minister and non-existent parliment, the practice of foriegn nations paying our military to conduct martial services for them was outlawed by the Military Incorporation Order. Last report I read, Corennia's fine when it comes to nuclear fuel. Our Deterrent replenisment cycle isn't done for another 7 years, and we've got quite a stock pile of nuclear fuel on hand. Trade would be..." He pauses for a moment, "Transit's in dire shape, trains specifically... you don't say..."

The old man nods. 'Planes can barely get over the mountains due to the nationalists, and most of the rail stations are bombed out or otherwise in disrepair in the north. We're trying to set it all straight, but it's all the police can do to keep the peace here and in the highlands to the south. Shipping's fine in the meantime, though.' He gestures to the folder. 'You'll also note we have a bit of oil in the lowlands, but they're north. Our main exports are in academics and art, you see. Never been terribly artisanal, as a people.'

The man with salt-and-pepper hair grunts a response as he sinks into thought, "Alright... I think I have a solution here, though, you'll understand, I'll have to pass it by the Foreign Affiar's Functionary. You pay my country to send its Corps of Engineer's out here... thats the Air Force, to build up your rail systems, pay us to do the job... a little too much in fact. Our country will have to, out of the goodness of our heart towards your generosity, train a few of Divisions... that sound fair?" He coughs, "Legally, you'd be prohibited for moving troops on these lines for the duration of our agreement, of course, or else we'd be in violation of the MIO."

Martin Andresse smiled as he sank back into his chair. 'Police are excused from that restriction, I assume?' he said. 'I believe we have a deal. Satellite Internet connexions were restored straightaway, and I believe we can set you up in an office on this floor in the meantime.' He pulls a keyboard out from the desk and taps out a short message, peering at the faux-mahogany board helpfully supported by Xenophon. Glancing up after a second with a satisfied look, he said, 'A clerk will be up shortly to help you along. Thank you again, Ambassador.'

"Oh, no need. My office has established a secure satilliete line between myself and the capital. Which I'll be stopping by later on this afternoon." Collour says, holding up his hands in a polite 'no-thank-you' sort of way, "And this is all theory until the functionary approves and passes on the orders to our Military Affairs Department, which will pass on orders to Civil Engineering..." He sighs, "Buearcracy at its finest. But with any luck... we'll have your decision by the end of the week. And yes, police are restricted from the ban, though there are certain qualifiers to that that I'd rather let a lawyer deal with." He stands up, extending a hand, "It'll be nice to have an ally on this side of the world though."

Andresse leaned across his desk to return the handshake. 'It would certainly be nice to have an ally as well-respected and established as Corennia,' he said with a grin. 'Though I'm afraid we really can't do much right now, we expect to be back on our feet with all haste, especially when Parliament's together, and I expect we'll be a little more helpful then!'

"Help your people here. We'll do what we can..." He leans over to the window and yells, "Hey! Stop messing with those troops!"

Two of the suited Rifles glance around, and one on the left gives the drill rifle back to the uniformed Lestrassian soldier, "Anyway, thats how you do that-"

"Now! Get the car!"

"Yes Sir!"

The Ambassador turns back with a sheepish/grumbling look on his face, nodding apologetically, he lets himself out.

<RP Note: Session Closed for the night. If anyone has any comments, questions, or wants to get onboard this gravy train a' looooove, you can post between now and the next RP note starting the session up again.>

Obligatory Smilies because apparently, I need some to be cool: :mp5: :sniper: :fluffle: :fluffle: :gundge: :fluffle: :confused:


:eek:

<<OOC>> Oooh! Decent RP! Hold on, let me get my camera.

Seriously, though, could I get in on this? It sounds like fun. :)

<<Of course I manage to lose the thread. Anyhow, I would certainly have no objections at all if you were to join in, as long as Corennia's fine with it!>>