Voreioditika Edaphi
11-09-2005, 19:09
Meet Ambassador Phillip. Phillip is working his way through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and this assignment, if successful, will not only raise his pay but will get him out of that... dreadful city. He was young for an Ambassador, twenty seven. The only reason he got the job was because he talked his way out of a compremising situation that involves a banana and a midget. And I will not mention what this situation is because that would get me banned from this website.
He looked more like a Latin then a Greek, but his accent surely was Greek. Of course this is what you get when mom is a Latin and your father is a Greek. He was white, like a Latin, and had hair, like a Latin. But enough of that, let's get to his assignment. It was simple, trade negotiations with the United Kingdom of Azazia.
The Edaphite plane, which was really a 727 made for Government use, started to arrive at the archipelago that was Azazia. Thus, a tale of two Kingdoms was about to begin. Man, that was cheesy.
We can either have it land or just go straight to the meeting. Your choice.
Ministry of Trade and Industry
Imperium, Republic of New Britain
With a loud groan, Dr. Garret Jackson hefted his rotund form up and out of the comfortable leather chair he called home at the Ministry of Trade and Industry. Although Parliament had officially been dissolved two days ago, he had been summoned back from Islington amidst his campaigning in order to serve as His Majesty’s representative at a meeting with a trade envoy from a nation new to the United Kingdom. Very little was known about the Kingdom of Voreioditika Edaphi outside of their own billing as a nation with ample agricultural resources available for trade.
Despite the conclusion of the Novikovian War, the UK still required a more immediate source of foodstuffs with which to feed a near-starving population of over three billion. Jackson shuffled his papers, reviewing the estimated production capacity of the comparatively tiny city-state and doubted they’d be able to fulfill Azazian requirements – but for the next year or so any help would help. And so the Prime Minister had asked him to return to the capital for a trade meeting with Ambassador Phillip, the ambassador to be dispatched to the United Kingdom.
The intercom box on his desk buzzed, giving Jackson an excuse to replace the papers on his desk and toggle the two-way communication device. “Yes, Jason?”
“Sir, we’ve received word that the Edaphite aircraft is about an hour out of Emperor’s Field and the motorcade is waiting downstairs in the garage.”
“Very well, I’ll be right out.” Jackson gathered his papers and threw them into his disorderly briefcase before grabbing the briefcase and his jacket and heading down to the garage. As the motorcade idled Jackson walked slowly out to the black armoured limousines bearing little flags of the United Kingdom on their four corners. Behind him he heard a patently annoying pop song echoing out of a mobile phone.
“Sir,” his chief aide, Jason DeLieux called out, “it’s Tobias Heath.”
Jackson took the small, fragile-feeling phone into his large chubby hands. “Yes, Tobias, what can I do for you?”
“Good afternoon, Minister. I’m calling to give you a quick little briefing about the meeting scheduled between you and the Ambassador.”
“What does the Prime Minister need?”
“Mr. Minister, you are as aware of the political situation in the country as anyone can be – and both the Prime Minister and myself apologize that we had to take you away from Islington on such short notice but this opportunity has presented itself and the party needs it to be taken; accordingly the party won’t forget this despite the outcome of your election.”
“Hold on a second, Tobias.” Jackson handed the phone to DeLieux while he climbed into the plush seats at the back of the limo. Taking a moment to get comfortable and open a bottled war kept cold in the mini-fridge, he signaled for his aide to hand the phone back over. “Alright, Tobias, what do you need?”
“It’s crucial that we sign this deal. I take it you saw the announcement Emily received?” Heath asked, referring to the initial announcement from Nikolaos’ office.
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“They want to increase the wealth of their coffers, and we need two things. Food and jobs for the Russian northwest – even just news of jobs arriving in the short term. I trust you can arrange something?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Thank you, Mr. Minister.”
Jackson handed the phone back to his aide and looked out the window, staring into the street level shops in all the buildings the motorcade passed. The Royal Airport at Emperor’s Field, simply known as Emperor’s Field, served as the main airport for arriving dignitaries and foreign officials because of its seclusion as real estate owned by His Majesty – real estate from which the monarch could bar the media, a tactic used regularly. In fact, as the motorcade drove over the 3rd St. Bridge out of the urban environs of the city, usual meetings such as this would take place at the conference centres at the Airport. But the trade meetings over the next few days would need to be public. After all, it was election season.
Soon the motorcade arrived at the front gates of the heavily secured facility and each person displayed their credentials before the vehicles were allowed to pass into the rather pastoral setting. While most of the archipelago existed in a hyper-urban setting, this parcel of royal real estate still existed with natural forests and grasslands – save the paved runways and environmentally-minded above and below ground facilities. The Royal Airport actually housed two such facilities, one smaller for the explicit use of the monarch and his relatives, and the second – the far larger of the two – for the use of diplomats and foreign officials. As Jackson pulled up to the second facility he swung the door wide open to meet a Group Captain Walter Harrison of the Royal Air Force. “Captain?”
“The Edaphi aircraft is proceeding en route, ETA five minutes, Mr. Minister.”
“Thank you, Captain Harrison.” As the commander of the air field departed an open-bed truck braked to a halt, dispatching a squad of the Royal Guards in their ceremonial dress uniforms, with sabers in their sheaths and the brass buttons blinding in the bright blue weather. Jackson hoped that the minor details would please the Ambassador. In the distance a speck appeared, a speck that grew steadily in size until Jackson could distinguish the general shape of a fixed-wing aircraft, furthermore, a civilian aircraft.
With a glance over to the Lieutenant of the Royal Guards they assembled into their ranks while a single member brought forth and rolled out a blue carpet – as red was only for state visits – between the ranks of the soldiers. Jackson stepped out of the vehicle and checked in the tinted window to ensure both his tie and jacket were arranged perfectly. Slowly, the rumble of the 727’s engines could be distinguished, as well as the landing gear being down. Above the aircraft roared a pair of the RAF’s most advanced stealth aircraft that had been guiding the aircraft since its arrival into UK airspace. Finally, far down the runway the plane landed and taxied to a stop outside the formal entrance. From the other side of the limousine a moveable stairway was rolled into position before the door from the aircraft opened revealing Ambassador Phillip, the first envoy to the United Kingdom from the city-state.
Jackson smiled as he watched the young ambassador walk down the carpet between the Royal Guards now standing at salute. He extended his hand and shook firmly with that of the ambassador. “On the behalf of His Majesty Michael I and Prime Minister Alistair Tetley, I welcome you to the United Kingdom of Azazia, Your Excellency. My name is Dr. Garret Jackson and I serve His Majesty’s Government as the Minister of Trade and Industry. If you’ll follow me, this motorcade will take us into the capital to the Ministry of Trade and Industry.”
[ooc: then if you'd like to just go straight to the conference room, that's fine with me /ooc]