NationStates Jolt Archive

Office of the Chief of Staff to the Prime Minister
The Citadel, Imperium, The Republic of New Britain

Are you of your bloody fucking mind!? What, are we fucking retarded!? I mean come the fuck on!?

Calm down, Howard.

Tobias Heath watched with only half-amusement as the Prime Minister’s Deputy Chief of Staff for Domestic Affairs bounced from wall to wall in Heath’s office, expounding profanity after profanity without limit or restraint. Robertson was, categorically, an excitable man. With his hands running through his non-existent hair, and his pacing coming at such a frenetic pace, Heath noted that in a few hours he would be forced to call maintenance to have a new carpet installed. Then again, it would allow him to replace the awfully stained shag carpeting.

The Prime Minister had returned from Newcastle with an imperative that extended on several fronts, not all related. This pre-lunch meeting was the discussion of bilateral Sarzonian-Azazian relations – and quite simply the relations were all but non-existent. At the most, the two foreign ministers could exchange a series of pathetically hidden verbal barbs that entertained the other nation’s political pundits. And at least the two could likely posture militarily all the while knowing any fight would result in a bloody stalemate. And so Heath and Robertson had been tasked with resolving this dispute in some fashion or another.

I still think this is a bad idea, Tobias. One awfully bad idea.

I can tell, now stop running around before you give me a heart attack. Heath took a seat and pulled out a laptop, despite being from a generation that had been born and raised without computers, he had familiarized himself enough with the technology to make it useful for note taking. Any sort of conference is likely to be nixed off the bat. I can’t imagine that Haffner fellow ever agreeing to any sort of meeting here in the United Kingdom, and for that reason we cannot allow ourselves to travel to Sarzonia. We need a third party involved…

And if we try to keep this secret? How do we keep secrets when some foreign citizen takes a photograph of us meeting with a Sarzonian official? We need to keep it between our two countries. Even if we go over there, it has to be on either nation’s soil. We need to control the media and PR image from the very beginning.

A secluded spot, then. Something along the lines of Emperor’s Field perhaps?

No. I don’t see Haffner or Sarzo ever agreeing to meet in a place named after an absolute monarch. We could meet in somewhere like… Port Elizabeth. Port Elizabeth, an out of the way, developing colony—

No, Howard. They’re adamantly opposed to our imperialism. And would be especially where we took over a land with native inhabitants.

They’re cavemen in the Neopaleostone age or whatever the hell they call it! What the bloody hell!?

Heath nodded, and tuned out Robertson’s newest string of expletives. He finished a short paragraph before Robertson turned to look for Heath’s guidance.

Sarnia, Howard.

The two stared at each other, smirks slowly appearing, then creeping into full blown smiles. Sarnia, a continent where the two nations shared a land border – a border between colonies founded by expatriates, on both sides.

That’s brilliant, Tobias. What about that new port… uh…

St. Ives?

Yeah! It’s on an island, away from the coast, away from whatever press might exist on the island. Nobody in the world has to necessarily know about it until both parties have agreed to it. Too good to be true, though. What do we have to lose?

I can’t see a whole lot. If they refuse on the basis of supporting our imperialism we can simply hammer back the mere hundreds of kilometers from our colonial capital is the Sarzonian colonial capital. Other than that, what do we have to lose? It’s on our soil, but is sufficiently far away from either party so as neither mother country has real significant daily influence on the colonists. They exist as worlds unto themselves. I say we go for it.

Bloody right. I’ll go call Emily.

Then we go get lunch and talk about… what was it?

Appointments to the Admiralty.

Excellent.

Open Letter to the Sarzonian Government

His Majesty’s Government would like to take this opportunity to recognize the concerns of the Sarzonian Government with respect to the United Kingdom’s application to join the Union of World Powers. Given the current climate of hostility and thinly veiled contempt on both sides of the issue, it is the opinion of the Prime Minister and his Cabinet that the time has come to settle these disputes in a civilised fashion.

We thus, humbly submit a request to the Sarzonian Government to meet with officials from His Majesty’s Government so as to best heal the rift that divides our two great, and noble peoples. A rift that threatens the peace that still exists between our two states.

Emily Deveraux
Minister of Foreign Affairs
The United Kingdom of Azazia

Sealed Envelope Delivered via Pacitalian Envoy

President Mike Sarzo,

By now, I am certain that your government has received Ms. Deveraux’s open letter addressed to your government and perhaps even have a pithy response ready to be dispatched. I entreat upon you to bear restraint and to hear these words far too blunt and plainly spoken to be paraded about in so public a forum.

I have been made well aware of your concerns about the United Kingdom by both direct correspondence and that of my staff and senior ministers. And to be blunt, Mr. President, I feel that this war of words has achieved nothing but to foster an un-needed animosity between two peoples truly similar despite the objections and claims of their respective governments, on both your part and mine.

That said, I would like to invite you to send representatives to the United Kingdom, in particular the small port city of St. Ives, located off the coast of New Corcyra, His Majesty’s Royal Crown Colony in Sarnia, in fact, I believe our two states share a common border in that largely unsettled land and so what better place to attempt to seal the rift than upon our only true border. We need not take large steps at this juncture, instead, I would envision a meeting of lower-tier ministers or perhaps even staffers of lower-tier ministers as the public in the United Kingdom is not yet ready to forgive your government – and I wholly expect no less than similar sentiments prevail in your own cities and towns. In part, that is another reason why St. Ives would be such an appropriate choice. It not only finds itself on Sarnia, so distant from our homelands, but St. Ives is an isolated island off the coast of New Corcyra where our representatives can meet without fear of interruption by neither unruly mobs determined to upset progress nor inflammatory media coverage that would force both our democracies to halt this progress.

And progress I believe can be, and shall be made in these talks. We have real issues, I mince no words, but I resolutely believe that we can, and shall find a path around this impasse. I resolutely believe we must find a path if our two nations are to co-exist peacefully when our governments – and our people – share some of the same alliances.

I hope this letter finds you well, Mr. President, and I hope you will agree to the proposals I have outlined herein.

Sincerely,

Alistair Tetley,
Prime Minister of the United Kingdom

"You want me to do what?"

For all his well-known patience, the question posed to him by his top deputy was beginning to tax every ounce of Mark Lorber's reserve.

"Do you want me to have to repeat myself Grant," Lorber said quietly, but in the relatively short time the two External Affairs officers had worked together, it was long enough for Haffner to read the workings of Lorber's mind. He could tell from the slight change in Lorber's tone that his boss was getting irritated with him.

"Why the bloody hell do I have to travel to Pavanne in the first place?"

"Political implications, Grant," Lorber said. "There's no way in hell Sarzo'd agree to travel to Philadelphia and I highly doubt Heath would want to set foot in Woodstock. This way, we're far enough away from either country's center of gravity such as it were and we can sit down with a chance to let cooler heads prevail."

"You can't be serious Mark," Haffner said. "They're probably just angling to get into UWP because they know we're voting against it. They probably also know that we've got a pretty good bloc with The Evil Overlord, especially in light of our negotiations with them."

"You also should be aware that they've got strong bonds with Pacitalia and Euroslavia and they're probably banking on that as their ticket into the alliance. Have you read those messages from Samothera and Destra?"

"The last thing I want to do is listen to that hypocritical **** Destra," Haffner said sharply. I'm going to give that bitch all the attention she needs by ignoring her." Lorber's eyes widened at the blunt assessment of Destra, but Haffner continued. "As for Samothera, it's going to be quite clear that if we repair relations with Pacitalia that she's not going to be the one to lead the way."

"Grant, for the bloody last time," Lorber said, his voice finally raising a few decibels. "We're going to meet with Azazia. Do you want me to have to go there myself? Is that what you're telling me?"

"I don't think we should be troubling ourselves at all, to be honest," Haffner said. "But if you insist, we can send one of our aides to talk to them."

"What's Grace up to these days?"

"She's finishing up that report on the political situation between Azazia and Novikov."

"Perfect. She can go over there and discuss matters with them."

"Grace just earned her credentials two months ago. That's not going to be enough time for her to handle things."

"She's plenty qualified Grant," Lorber said. "You didn't have a whole lot of experience when the House confirmed you, as I recall." Haffner nodded slightly, remembering that he had only two years with his top level diplomatic credentials before being named the second in command in External Affairs before the hearings. Somehow, the House Foreign Affairs committee was impressed with Haffner enough to recommend he go in front of the full House of Delegates.

"But I at least had two years. She's only had two months."

"We don't give credentials lightly," Lorber reminded Haffner. "I think Grace can do the job. Besides, she's more familiar with Azazia than either of us are. I'll give her a call and instruct her to travel to Nashton."

With that, Lorber left Haffner's office and walked toward his own. Following a 72 hour period of preparation and pre-negotiations planning, Grace Aguna would be on her way in Sarzonia Three to the capital of Pavanne, the Sarzonian colony in Sarnia. From there, she would take the train to the Azazian holding in Sarnia to begin the negotiation phase. Whether the negotiations would result in enough of an olive branch to improve relations between two countries that were so different and so similar was anyone's guess.

The Citadel, Imperium
The Republic of New Britain

The grey mist hung heavy upon the capital, a thick blanket that threatened to smother the life from every individual brave enough to venture into the cold, raw weather. And on the cobblestones outside the residence of the Prime Minister, Tobias Heath drew his arms closer to his torso, thrusting his hands deeper into the pockets of his woolen pea coat. It kept him warm only a few moments longer. Next to his feet sat a black duffel bag that held essential toiletries and a copy of Dickinson’s David Copperfield, despite the Prime Minister’s objections over the quality of the author’s works. He heard the door behind him open slowly, creaking its way open – a reminder of the maintenance staff’s seemingly inability to cope with such mundane tasks despite all the taxpayer money thrown into their budget.

Fancy seeing you here.

Heath turned at the familiar voice. Good morning, Mr. Prime Minister. Shouldn’t you be inside, you have a meeting with the ambassador from the VAU in a little bit.

He can wait. Tetley shrugged his official responsibilities from within his own pea coat, enjoying the company of his friend in the quietus between briefings and official meetings. Why don’t you wait inside, Tobias?

This’ll make me appreciate St. Ives that much more. Heath responded with a smile.

Tetley laughed, placing his hand upon the shoulder of his older friend and political mentor. In that case I wish I were going in your stead.

No, you can’t sir. You need to stay above this and out of the way, if it goes sour – plausible deniability. If it somehow works – your directive.

Meanwhile I stay in Imperium, where I’ll likely catch a cold or influenza or some other virus. Anyway, I want you to know that you have my full support and that you are not to accept any calls for independence of home rule—

I’ll tell them that we’re still working on the constitution and the new Novikovian political framework. You should unveil that after the Admiralty thing, by the way. Howard’s going to say before because the later nominations of the Atkinson will raise the morale of the Royal Navy - but you have to do it before. By doing it after the Admiralty nominations you’ll be easing away from the link between Novikov and national trauma and towards a link between Novikov and progress.

I’ll certainly keep that in mind.

Don’t worry, sir. My mobile will be on me at all times. The two laughed quietly, watching from across the plaza as the main gate lowered, a small procession of limousines pouring in from the outside world, their headlights illuminating the suspended drops of moisture, their wiper blades pushing them away from the windshield as they neared the Prime Minister and his Chief of Staff. I think it’s time I get going, Mr. Prime Minister.

Indeed. Give my regards to Sir Ashford when you arrive in Port Royal. Is their airfield up and running yet?

The RAF field outside of Avalon-on-Avon is the only airfield capable of handling my aircraft. The civilian field won’t be ready for a few more months. Heath finished as the main limo slowly rolled up to the men, the driver trying hard not to throw any unnecessary puddles upon either Tetley or Heath.

The two friends hugged each other – each knowing that the separation could be politically problematic, but that it was also necessary for the Kingdom. You take care, Tobias, enjoy the weather if not the climate.

And you enjoy the climate if not the weather, sir. The two friends smirked as Heath climbed into the car, turning around before he shut the door. Oh, and I’ll keep an eye out for single women. With that the door was shut and Tetley was left to shake his head. Some day he’d get married and stop the nuisances. He turned and opened the door back to his residence, watching the motorcade head off to Emperor’s Field and when it was finally beyond the Citadel’s walls he found his Deputy Chief of Staff waiting for him with a piece of paper.

Good morning, Mr. Prime Minister. We just heard from Newcastle, you’ve been summoned to an afternoon meeting with King Michael and I’ve accordingly altered your afternoon intelligence briefing, it will be split in half – domestic then foreign, first before the meeting, second en route to Newcastle. Also, the VAU ambassador is waiting in your office and there’s a hostage standoff in Devonshire that needs your brief attention.

Thank you, Howard. I suppose we do have a country to run.

Indeed, sir.

Port Royal, Crown Colony of New Corcyra

Heath stood, stretching his legs and moving his arms about him trying to loosen all the joints that had gone stiff after remaining in a locked position after a twenty-six hour flight. With the chartered civilian aircraft now taxing to a stop at RAF Avalon, he moved his sore frame to the first class exit, where he found a small stairwell waiting, behind which stood a small honour guard and the well-built but only moderately tall Sir Basil Ashford, the Royal Governor of New Corcyra.

Heath clambered down the steps, enjoying that lovely temperature that felt neither warm nor cool while a cool breeze blew from the northeast. Having now changed into a looser white linen suit, Heath looked upon the crowd through his sunglasses – nothing that a Corcyran crowd was far lighter than that of Imperium. He nodded in the direction of Ashford, who walked over, extending his arm and his hand.

Ah, good day, Mr. Heath, it is certainly a pleasure, indeed, a great pleasure.

Thank you, Sir Ashford. How’s the leg?

Ah, hrm, well the surgery was quite lovely – at least after all the sedatives and painkillers – and I now can rest it comfortably in this temperate weather. How are things back in the capital?

They move along as sluggishly as ever. The Conservatives seem determined to forestall any legislation we put before Parliament – but that’s nothing new. Otherwise all remains the same. Oh, and the Prime Minister sends his regards.

Ashford nodded emphatically, beaming bright underneath his bushy and archaic mustache with knowledge of his recognition by the Prime Minister. He’s a righteous man he is, that Prime Minister of ours. Unlike that swine of a Sarzonian.

Heath shook his head. Easy, sir. I need no such talk when the Sarzonian delegation arrives. And besides, even the farmer’s dog must deal with the pigs at some point or another.

Ashford quieted a gasp. Perhaps as scraps of bacon to be eaten. Ahsford muttered. Heath heard but chose to ignore the comment.

Now, I understand that this Ms. Aguna shall be arriving tomorrow, correct?

Indeed, her rail car will arrive in Port Royal at around half past noon if the trains run on time.

Have they been?

For the most part, yes. Though the rail to the west, towards Avalon-on-Avon has yet to be completed and the rail to the north, across the Avon has yet to be completed. You and Ms. Aguna will be flying from Port Royal to St. Ives, landing on my private estate along the southern coast of the island.

The accommodations?

Per your request, Mr. Heath. She shall be staying in my residence, which has been cleaned of all sensitive materials, while you can stay in the carriage house. All the while I shall stay here in Port Royal, keeping an eye on wandering reporters and nosy civilians.

Excellent, Sir Ashford. Just excellent. I suppose I’d best be on way up north then. Heath grabbed his duffel bag and watched his luggage containing more suits and diplomatic niceties were offloaded from the aircraft. The two men climbed into a waiting black sedan before taking off for the heliport.

The Airport
Nashton, Pavanne

Grace Agunye frowned as her flight was preparing to land. The 16 hour flight followed by the tram ride to Port Royal was not her idea of a favoured assignment. She was also getting set to do something she'd only done in practice sessions before now: Negotiate with a foreign government, especially one that had engaged in a war of words with that had shredded whatever regard the two countries may have had for each other.

But she was going because Grant pushed her to be the one. Even though she was a novice to the sort of political back-and-forth that both he and Lorber were familiar with, she was being assigned the thorny mission of patching up relations with Azazia. It seemed to be a rather delicate issue for someone who thought of herself as a low level flunky.

But Haffner must have had his reasons for pushing for her to be the envoy. One of his key reasons, he knew, was her familiarity with Azazia; in particular, its occupation of Novikov. That occupation was the source of major consternation for the Sarzonian government and was one of the central reasons that Sarzonia opposed Azazian entry into the Union of World Powers. When Sarzonia was still a member nation in that alliance.

Nevertheless, Agunye decided the events that led to Sarzonia's curt departure from the alliance would not keep her from her stated mission. Besides, her mobile didn't ring, and Sarzonian envoys soon learned to get used to the idea that they may be called back home at any time. Thus far, no call to return to Woodstock.

Just as well, she thought. Maybe I can get a night's rest at a hotel or something. Even though "nighttime" was now four in the afternoon at Port Royal, it was now two o'clock in the morning Sarzonian Time.

"Ms. Agunye?"

"Do I have to go back home?"

The guard laughed, seemingly aware of Sarzonian tendencies to call back a diplomat just as negotiations began if the political climate didn't blow their way.

"No, Ms. Agunye. I just wanted you to know your limousine was stuck in traffic. It should be here any minute."

"Great." Just then, the horn beeped and the limousine pulled up into the drive.

"I took a shortcut," the driver said as he stepped out of the vehicle. You must be Ms. Agunye," he said. He looked at her like he was sizing up the delegate in her white business suit. He quickly reached for her suitcase and took it to the trunk. She kept her laptop case with her and checked her e-mail whilst the car was in motion.

"Nothing but junk mail," she said to herself as the rolling hillsides of Nashton started to give way to the murk of the area surrounding the tram station. She placed her laptop gently into the case and shut it carefully, then she boarded the train with her suitcase and laptop case in tow. Soon enough, she would sit across the table from a country she'd only come to know through diplomatic dispatches and information retrieval sessions. But that was going to be a different world from a face to face meeting with a country she had to fight her tendencies to dislike from the outset.

The winds stirred the metallic chimes while the seas ebbed and flowed against the black sands – all the while David Copperfield rose and fell upon Heath’s chest in perfect rhythm with the snores emanating from his half-open mouth. Despite its recent completion, the wooden veranda creaked and groaned under the weight of large man, his belly spilling over his waist line in a neatly worn black suit. With large dark sunglasses blocking the glare off the cool ocean, the man tapped Heath’s shoulder three times before the book fell off Heath’s chest in a sudden jerking movement.

Mr. Heath?

Yes, what is it Anthony?

The Sarzonian envoy is due to arrive in Port Royal, Governor Ashford has requested you return.

Heath nodded, straightening the panama jack straw hat on his head and picking the thick novel, its pages now dented and sandy, off the white wood. Sitting up, he straightened the folding chair and took a sip from the iced tea sitting besides him on a small wicker table. The helicopter is en route I take it?

Indeed it is, sir.

Brilliant. Heath took one more sip before standing and gathering his book underneath his arm. Silently, he followed Ashford’s aide while enjoying the crashing of the waves upon the shore before the subtle sound was obliterated by the whining of a motor and the thumping of waves of compressed air. Heath climbed aboard the chopper and waited until it leapt from the ground with a suddenness that still surprised Heath despite his frequent trips with the Prime Minister aboard helicopters much like the one within which he sat.

For most of the flight, Heath sat re-reading reports and documents on the United Kingdom’s colonial possessions – most dealing specifically with Novikov. The largest colony in the Crown’s possession, the territory had once been a sovereign power allied to Sarzonia and although the Sarzonians had stayed away from the military phase of the annexation, they had come out swinging afterwards.

As the helicopter landed, far more softly than it had taken off, Heath’s mobile phone chirped inside his trouser pocket. Reaching in, he extended the antenna and flipped open the lid to find the number was encrypted and secure. Tobias.

Hey, Tobias, it’s Howard.

How’s it going?

Good, good. The Prime Minister is giving me some grief over the timing of the Admiralty announcements, I was wondering if you could speak with him about it.

I already did and he had his mind made up. I doubt you’ll get him to budge very far if at all. Anything else going on?

Recent rumours have it that the UWP is coming forward with their announcement on our membership.

And?

Rumour has it we’re in.

Excellent! Heath cracked a huge smile. Of course, with the Sarzonian withdraw from the organization, little resistance had been left against the Kingdom – but the Sarzonian intransigence had finally been overcome and more than likely any pro-Sarzonian individuals within the UWP would likely be giving the same news to Heath’s counterpart for these talks. If nothing else, the settlement of the admission and Sarzonian resignation removed one obstacle from the talks, leaving more time for vitriol and venom to flow over Novikov - if the talks went south.

The ride to the train station went smoothly, leaving Heath at the station a full fifteen minutes before it arrived. With an eye to detail, he ensured that the official entourage was uncharacteristically small: only himself, Ashford, and a smattering of aides and interns were present. While typical negotiations and meetings would find the full majesty of the Kingdom put on display, discretion was what Heath had in mind for this meeting. And so the helicopter was waiting with its engine still idling and the motorcade with its engines still running. A sharp whistle signaled the train’s approach, and quickly the few civilians mulling about were escorted away from the platform, where Heath in his white suit and Ashford his pale robin egg’s blue suit stood.

I suppose this is why you’re in Imperium, Tobias. I could never and would never stand here and shake this woman’s hand if not for you and the Prime Minister ordering me to. Mark my words, nothing good can come from this. Our peoples are too far apart.

Perhaps, sir, perhaps. However, are you really willing to wager the security of your grandchildren’s generation upon an animosity you’d rather leave unresolved? You and/or I may or may not like the Sarzonians; but in the end the Prime Minister asked us to carry this out and so we shall for the good of the Kingdom.

Ashford shrugged as the train slowed to a stop, it’s metallic doors sliding open revealing to Heath and Ashford the first Sarzonian government official to ever step foot on Azazian soil. Heath took a step forward and extended his right hand while removing his hat with his left.

On the behalf of His Majesty Michael I and the Right Honourable Prime Minister Alistair Tetley, welcome to the United Kingdom and the Royal Crown Colony of New Corcyra.

Agunye saw Heath extend his hand toward her and very quickly started to size up the man who would be sitting across from her. Interesting the level of niceties from the Azazians considering the venom our governments sent toward each other she thought. As her right forearm slowly rose at the elbow to a position not quite parallel to the ground, she decided to put aside the insult which had already formed in her head about Heath. She smiled her best diplomatic smile.

"Nice to meet you sir," she said. "My name is Grace Agunye." She shook Heath's hand with crisp movements. She looked around, searching for something to say before she would sit across from Tobias Heath and begin discussions about repairing the diplomatic damage between Sarzonia and Azazia.

"Nice day today," she said. The temperature inched toward 21 degrees Celcius and there was scarcely a cloud in the sky. The air had a crisp, clean scent to it and the streets nearby looked especially clean. It was a nice day. "Should we get started?" Agunye was anxious to get started on the discussions.

The diplomatic row surrounding Sarzonia's departure from the Union of World Powers, and Azazia's admission into the alliance, dominated the headlines and Portland Iron Works' acquisition of three other Sarzonian defence companies dominated headlines in several countries and the economic war that was ensuing was having a worldwide ripple effect that was providing Agunye the perfect opportunity for the relative obscurity she hoped for when she took this assignment.

If the government of Azazia wanted to keep negotiations with a Sarzonian official secret, and there was reason to believe with their recent comments about the acquistion, this was the perfect backdrop. Even if the discussions were out in the open, the furor surrounding Sarzonia and Pacitalia ending diplomatic relations and the actions surrounding the merger would have likely pushed the story of these negotiations deep into the inside pages of the Woodstock Daily Mail.

But right now, Agunye's focus wasn't on Pacitalia or the Portland Iron Works. It was her task at hand that dominated her thoughts. She looked at a reflection and saw her dark brown skin in the reflection and secretly thanked her lucky stars that her daughter was a makeup artist. Aguynye slowly ran her hands through the braids in her hair and looked down at her suit.

I wish the cleaners would hurry up with my dark grey suit, she thought. The dark grey, pinstriped suit was her usual suit of choice for any diplomatic mission, but she'd stained it after a late night at work as she was walking from her drive. The assignment came too late for her to go to the cleaners in time and she quickly grabbed the first serviceable suit she could find in her size. She would have to live with a white business suit that was ill suited to her skin.

But she decided to put up a brave front with the suit and with her negotiations with the Azazians, no matter how much she thought of them as imperialist dogs.

Port Royal, Royal Crown Colony of New Corcyra

Heath smiled in a fatherly way, as if he had known Agunye for years. It is my pleasure, ma’am. I am Tobias Heath, Chief of Staff to the Prime Minister. Now, if you’ll follow me we’ll head out to the island where everything is ready. With a wave of his hand, Heath led her to the waiting motorcade that without much fanfare carried the two to the waiting helicopters.

The short flight consisted of an amicable and pleasant discussion of minor details, Heath making known to Agunye his opinion that despite the bitterness between the two peoples – which he believed largely came from an overzealous media – the people on both sides of the border shared largely the same values and beliefs and that he hoped that those commonalities could form the basis for any agreement to worked out in St. Ives.

St. Ives, Royal Crown Colony of New Corcyra

The drawing room of Sir Ahsford contained a large and also low table, dark brown and highly polished with clean decorative frills cut underneath the edge of the table. Across from each other on the long side of the table sat two chairs, separated only by the wood and the silver tray that held a pitcher of water and an insulated bucket of ice. Heath motioned for his counterpart to sit, and he waited until she had settled before seating himself.

From what I understand, the Sarzonians are also large consumers of tea, as are the people of the United Kingdom, and so if you don’t mind I’ve ordered a pot of water to be brought out. Heath smiled before looking down and opening the small black leather folder which he had formerly had tucked underneath the arm. Now, the Prime Minister did want to thank both you and your president for agreeing to this meeting; and I can tell you that personally, he is quite set on ironing out our differences, namely Novikov.

The Prime Minister understands that prior to the war, Novikov was allied to Sarzonia and that said alliance carried with it certain obligations that would ensure the freedom of both peoples. If we can step away from the harsh rhetoric unfortunately used by both our parties in the discussions surrounding the UWP admission talks, the objections raised by Mr. Haffner centred upon the formal annexation of the colony after the military objectives had been met.

The Prime Minister, with the advice and counsel of his Minister of Defence, the Admiralty, and the Chiefs of Staff for the Royal Army and Air Force, consented to a strategy that consisted of three points needed before we would consider the United Kingdom safe. At the heart of these three points was the necessity to eliminate the threat from Novikov not just in the immediate future, but also in the long-term as well.

Having been present at these meetings, the discussions were rather intense and heated as the Prime Minister is a man reluctant to go to war. However, we were attacked and threatened with physical starvation – the prospect of Novikovian submarines sinking not just freighters departing from ports with names like Poldi’sk rose daily as we received more and more reports of submarines leaving their pens with full weapon loads.

The long-term interests of the Kingdom require free and unmolested commerce upon the high-seas. We are a nation no longer capable of producing enough food for ourselves and we depend upon trade with foreign powers, and it was that trade the Novikovian government threatened to end until we relented to their demands for more money. Neither then, nor now, nor ten, fifteen, fifty years from now can the United Kingdom allow itself to be held hostage. My government saw fit, after many long nights of almost physically violent arguments, that the government of Novikov simply cannot be trusted and would need to be controlled by Parliament.

We make no bones about imperialism. We tore down our Commonwealth and resurrected the nation as an imperial kingdom. Public press statements and announcements were made. Bills were introduced and passed into Acts. The United Kingdom was formed with the explicit intent of forging a liberal empire in the Pacific. And while we speak there are massive numbers of Royal Army and Marine units stationed in Novikov, we have no intention of keeping them there in perpetuity. While Sir Cahill rules the land as His Majesty’s Royal Governor, we do intend to introduce a new constitution for Novikov that will admittedly enshrine the UK Parliament as sovereign, but a benevolent sovereign entity that will grant to Novikov many rights of a liberal state. Although only in its draft stages, the document will call for freedom of speech, freedom of religion, free markets, and free and open elections to a domestic, Novikovian-wide Parliament that will be granted the power to draft, introduce, and pass legislation pursuant to local financial, judicial, cultural, and even defence affairs. However, foreign affairs and the creation of standing armies, navies, and air forces will be left to Imperium.

It is the position of my government that you have nothing to fear from the flag of the United Kingdom raised above that of the Novikovian flag. However, in the interest of peace and progress we are willing to discuss and hopefully redress your concerns here in St. Ives. But, as you can see, I have a tendency to talk a bit much – perhaps why I have not succeeded myself in being a politician, merely in advising them. So please, ma’am, if there are any concerns I can clear up, I would be only happy to do so.

"Well, I'm going to have to be direct if we really are going to resolve the issues that have come between our governments," Agunye said. "We understand the need to maintain shipping lines in the face of an enemy that threatens your government with starvation of your people.

"However," Agunye said, her face turning grave for a moment in an effort to emphasize her point. "We believe that the people of Novikov must regain their sovereignty at some point. We would prefer that point to come sooner rather than later; however, nothing in your government's statements suggest that has a timetable."

Agunye leaned forward slowly, choosing her words carefully.

"We can also appreciate your government's desire to end the nation of Novikov's threats toward your government and people, but we believe the world's history shows unfortunate lessons when the victors in war go too far in the attempt to subjugate a people." Agunye straightened in her chair.

"World War I, Treaty of Versailles. The Allies essentially emasculated the Germans after defeating them in World War I, then attempted to create artificial limits on military construction via the Washington Treaty. I'm not suggesting that a Hitler lurks in Novikov's populace; however, unless you can show the people of Novikov that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, you set yourself and your government up for a backlash in the coming years that will be to your own detriment. Specifically, the people of Novikov need to be independent. Autonomy just won't cut it Mr. Heath."

Agunye sat back looking intently at Heath. She wanted to bring up her government's own issues with Azazia, but she figured that would be after Heath saw her play her first card. Besides, Heath's response would dictate just how much this conference would accomplish.

Heath flashed a half-smile and leaned back into his chair, waving a young boy into the room. He watched as the boy, ever so slowly, placed the silver tray upon the table, depositing before the two officials a moderately sized pot and a fine wooden box that Heath opened carefully. Ah, he said after a long pause, Verdant Tea, Madame Agunye, comes from our colony in the Indian Ocean. An interesting place the Verdant Archipelago, entirely isolated from the modern world until the United Kingdom rediscovered the islands and our long lost brothers and sisters from the British Empire. That is my heritage at least, British. Most Azazians too. Anyways, this is a fine tea that is picked and undergoes a rather short oxidation, the leaves then mixed with a fruit native to the island, akin to a mango of sorts. Either way, it’s really quite exquisite, expensive, but exquisite. Though it’s best without a lot of sugar and certainly without milk.

He opened the container and poured the mixture into a small metallic screen sphere, which he placed in a small china cup before pouring the steaming water to begin the brewing process. Ahh, but we have more statesman like issues before us, do we not? Tea discussions shall be for another day. Where were we? Heath paused briefly to purposelessly shuffle his papers.

Novikov. I think that your government fails to understand the position of His Majesty’s Government, though I mean no disrespect by that blunt assessment. The Novikovian people will not regain their sovereignty. They were legally annexed by the Treaty of Poldi’sk, wherein the United Kingdom assumed the obligations – primarily – of defence and foreign affairs while guaranteeing – in time – that the Novikovians will regain some regional autonomy. The people of Novikov need to be no more independent than the Juristanian people, than the British descendents, than the Russian descendants, than the Spanish descendents, than the Dutch descendents, than even the Azazian people that have all forged this United Kingdom. Novikov is an integral part of the United Kingdom and we will not invalidate our own territorial integrity simply because they used to fly a flag different than that of the Home Islands. You quote the Allies emasculation of Germany after World War I, but where was the annexation? Perhaps a better example would be that of the annexation of Hawaii by the United States or of the nations of the Iroquois, or perhaps of the Scots in my own ancestral home of Great Britain. We would gladly open relations with any of those nations save the fact they were all annexed and fully integrated into a multi-national state with either Washington or London as their capitals. Novikov is on a path to integration to the United Kingdom and her capital shall be Imperium. It may very well be difficult, costly and even bloody. In fact, it likely will be. But, in the United Kingdom we prefer to look to the future and the long-term concerns and interests of our people and our state. And in the end all the parties involved will be better off than when they started.

Heath opened his mouth once more, moving his hands slowly across the table before they gently bumped into his teacup and saucer, the spoon clattering to the table only millimeters below. He closed his mouth and withdrew the tea leaves from the brew and stirred the beverage before taking his first quiet sip. With a broad smile, he replaced the cup of one of his favourite brews upon the saucer before looking back across to find the waiting eyes of his counterpart.

His Majesty’s Government, of course, is not unsympathetic to your government’s concerns, which is why we have invited you here. And so in the spirit of discussion and openness, what would the Incorporated States be willing to offer the United Kingdom in compensation for such a monumental and staggering loss, politically, economically, militarily, and culturally, if we were to grant Novikov her independence despite the wishes of the Azazian people, His Majesty’s Government, and all common sense?

Agunye's face clouded over into a slowly forming grimace as she slowly set the tea cup down on the table next to her. Her right hand lifted off the handle and deliberately drifted back toward her leg. She rested it then fixed an even glance at Heath.

"If you are not willing to consider restoring the independence of the nation of Novikov, then I am afraid our governments are and will remain at an impasse," Agunye said. "I'm going to have to be as blunt with you on the matter as you have been with me.

"I believe you do not give my government enough credit on this particular issue," she said, narrowing her eyes as her face began to form a scowl. "In fact, I am tempted to return to my government and inform them of the patronising tone you have taken toward me in these negotiations. My government will not be bribed by the United Kingdom of Azazia, Mr. Heath.

"I'm afraid the issue of Novikov's independence or lack thereof is not one that my government is willing to make a concession upon," Agunye said in a matter of reiteration. "You seem to operate on the assumption that Novikov's people will benignly accept a subservient position within the United Kingdom and watch their unique culture and ways of life become extinct at the hands of people whose heritage differs from their own.

"I'm afraid that isn't the case," she said. "The situation you have placed your government with the annexation -- legal or otherwise -- of Novikov is one that is ripe for an insurgency. If that insurgency draws the support of the people of Novikov, you have found yourself facing a situation not unlike a Vietnam or an Inkana."

Agunye's grimace after all but spitting out the name Inkana was could have easily been interpreted as a gesture of scorn toward Heath and toward an Azazian people she was attempting, and so far failing, to reach an agreement with. However, the world seemingly laughed or cringed at the Sarzonian missteps in Inkana. Either way, the world knew that Sarzonia failed spectacularly there.

"As you can probably tell, the Inkana debacle is a rather sore subject in Sarzonia," she said in a lighter than natural air that was intended to take some of the edge off her flat refusal of considering economic concessions to Azazia for granting independence. "Given enough time, the memories of many countries in this world is short. People in other parts of the world may not remember the legitimate causes of your initial occupation and may only consider you colonial imperialists. They may not directly get involved by declaring war or by recognising Novikov as an independent country before your government does. But they may seek to undermine your control."

Agunye looked pensive for a moment as she let the words hang in the climate controlled air of the room where she and Heath sat across from each other debating the views of their respective nations on the Novikov question. She knew the issue was causing the negotiations to start off poorly and she realised that unless other issues surrounding the strain in relations were addressed soon, this attempt to negotiate an agreement would go down in flames. If it were, Sarzo and the External Affairs office stood to get slammed by media once the negotiations came to light publicly. However, the suggestion that Sarzonia make economic concessions before Azazia would even consider Novikovian independence would probably have a similar effect on the state of Sarzonian-Azazian relations that the XYZ Affair had on French-American relations in 1798.

While that particular disagreement resulted in the so-called Quasi War between a nascent American navy and one of the world's superpowers at the time, the likelihood that direct bloodshed would result from a secret attempt to hammer out a cease fire from the diplomatic war of words between two similarly-minded nations was remote. Both Heath and Agunye knew the chances that they would be enemies flying under flags of war weren't good, but they also knew that a failure to agree on the end of diplomatic hostilities could throw a chill on relations for years to come.

"Since we so far seem to be at an impasse on the Novikov issue," Agunye said, "shall we proceed to the other reasons our governments have sent us here?" She looked expectantly at Heath with her eyes probing his every personality tic and his every expression. I'm going to break this bastard if it's the last thing I do, she thought before dismissing the notion. She was going to use her piercing stare to hunt for intelligence on this Tobias Heath, but she was going to do things her way.

Heath waited for Agunye to finish, all the while sipping his tea. Towards the end of his cup, he flagged down another young man who waited in the wings while Agunye finished. Heath, content that she had finished with her intention to move on for the time being, waved the young man over, speaking in her direction all the while. Salient, but wholly inappropriate points, Madame.

You are partially correct in your assessment of the cultural situation in Novikov. It is true that the majority of the United Kingdom comes from immigration from Great Britain and her own empire in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and has manifested itself in the creation of another Anglo-Empire so to speak. Yet, we are quite proud, and you quite remiss, in noting the substantial Russian minority in the northwest of the Home Islands. The history of the Azazian Archipelago is indeed quite bloody, with both the Russian minority and the Azazian minority waging enormous and catastrophic civil wars against the British majority. We are well aware of cultural differences, and have taken great pains to ensure the cultural heritage of the various peoples living under His Majesty’s Crown.

Heath paused with the attendant, Tea sandwiches if you please, Peter.

Before moving on, I would like to take this opportunity to clear up several precise points made by Ms. Lewis. Regardless of the means of annexation, the fact remains that Novikov now falls under the sovereign reign of the United Kingdom; our borders have now extended to the shores, seas, and skies of Novikov. The two are becoming one. And in that merger, the Novikovians will be educated about citizenship and the benefits and obligations of citizens of the United Kingdom. I’d even point out that in addition to the constitution Parliament will put to the Novikovians, we have encouraged the Novikovians to draft their own constitution to present to the Royal Governor. Within that political framework, we will consider proper proposals put forth by the Novikovians so long as they do not harm the United Kingdom as a whole – and to be frank, independence would do just that.

But, as you said, the Novikov Question would be best put off until a later time during these discussions. Now, there were other issues raised within the context of the UWP discussions, specifically as it related to our insulting each other on our systems of democracy. The Prime Minister and I have had several discussions over this spat about democracy. In that context, the Prime Minister would like to apologise for the statements made both personally and on his bequest by members of his administration that both implicitly and explicitly criticized Sarzonian democracy. Both the Prime Minister and I believe that it is quite obvious both our nations share a long history of democracy and the traditions and hallmarks of liberalism. To that end, I’d propose that at the conclusion of this meeting we draft some statement, treaty, or whatever that which your government would prefer, that would affirm the commitment of both parties to liberalism and democratic forms of government.

Heath pulled himself forward as the tray of tea sandwiches was brought forth. Please, Madame, enjoy the sandwiches. He picked up a tiny triangle himself and nibbled on it slowly, reclining slowly into the worn and thus comfortable upholstering of the chair. He had sat through many such tense meetings having served both in Parliament and as Chief of Staff for over half a decade. The grind and stress had begun to show of course; Heath would never again win prizes for his looks – not that he ever had. But, then he hadn’t been chosen for arguably the second most important job in the UK on account of his looks.

[OOC: Apologies for the OOC, but do you want us to resume this using fluid time to go back to when Pacitalia and Sarzonia were in the midst of their row? I noticed you bumped your Setting One's House in Order RP back up with another post.]

ooc: the fluid time proposal works for me... yeah, ever so slowly, with a hellish semester at an end, I'm regaining time for NS.