NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Kinda went into some history here hope its not too boring…

IC:
CNS Intolerant
Parking Orbit of Earth
Sol System

A small cutter slowly exited the ventral docking bay of the Concordat Naval Ship Intolerant. The Intolerant was an old vessel even for the Concordat Navy going on two hundred years. The constant war against the Ortagan Hegemony over the past century had shattered the nation which built her. In many respects the Cruiser was a reflection of her nation. Battered, beaten, yet unbroken. The twelve hundred meter long Heavy Cruiser had the lines and weight of a warship from the Raumreich. It was relatively spindle shaped with an elongated hammerhead for its bow. Once the stern of the ship had a similar shape now though it was retrofitted with modified gravitic thrusters received from technology transfers from the Valinor. If one looked past the multiple patches of retrofitted armor and weapons, laser scoring, and other apparent wear and tear over the ships long service record. Beyond that lied truth that few have ever witnessed much less survive, the Cruiser was one of the powerful vessels in its class, and when forced to act it would do so with all the abilities and experience gathered by a century of constant warfare.

The small aerodynamic shuttle was a sleek looking craft was designed for atmospheric flight and its ancient reaction thrusters activated propelling it into orbit of the Planet the WIckians had left so long ago, during a forgotten time. The small crafted descended to the continent of Greater Prussia, it flew quickly over its capital, it came to rest at a private landing pad at the busy spaceport in the city. The main hatch to the vessel opened and a ladder descended to the floor of the landing pad. Two figures descended from the craft, each bore the traits of a WIckian which might be surprising to those of Sol who up until this time have not had too much contact with their race. WIckian history did not precede three hundred years, that was the day of liberation from their oppressive overlords known only as the Vagrants. Theirs was a race in bondage for many centuries and their masters had been cruel, genetic programs had altered the WIckian genome to the tasks required of their station. Men were miners and warriors, their bodies were tall and their builds thick with muscle, however even today they lived short lives with all the advantages of modern medicine their hearts and organs began to fail at only a century and a half. The women were served much different roles then their male counterparts, every thing from waitresses to pleasure servants for their hedonistic masters. They are of slight build, but are lithe and often graceful. Pale, taut skin and a thin frame are the norm and these looks lead many to believe they suffer from constant malnutrition and sickness. many men may have found them quite alluring if it wasn’t for the final alterations rendered to the WIckian body. WIckians had no hair what so every on their bodies their eyes were either completely black with a small red pupil, WIckians were designed to be warriors and cannon fodder for their masters as well and thus they came equipped with infrared vision or thermal heat at will… the world through a WIckians eyes was much different then through a normal humans.

The two figures which exited the cutter reflected the typical WIckians. One was a tall man approaching seven feet and just about half that wide. He wore the green-grey of the Concordat Space Navy as well as the White Beret of a starship captain. The twenty hack marks on his left sleeve proclaimed his 100 years of service proudly. The other WIckian was a women dressed in formal business attire, a grey pin-striped suit. She carried in her hand a black leather attaché case and was obviously the diplomatic member of this mission.

They awaited their host whom they saw approaching them now….

Reichburg, Greater Prussia

The man who greeted the WIckians at the landing pod did not look quite human – or recogniseable. A dark figure in a long cape and black powered armor, Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky was familiar woth concealing the emotions in his face by a mask, and the emotions in his voice by a synthesizer in his armor. Such was the Curse of Kazansky – his face and his voice shifted involuntarily to express his true feeling – and he was not able to appear impassionate without the helmet and electronics. As such, he looked quite imposing to some people – but it did work, and in some cases, it would even prove to be even be educational for some people and representatives. Once an Allanean, he had forsaken that nation in disgust, and was no leaving a quiet life in an estate island in the Greater Prussian bay – technically Allanean land, but the Allaneans knew better then to come visit their former leader. Yet, even though he had retired from public life altogether, Alexander Kirillovich Kazansky did sometimes turn up and do a job for his Emperor. This was just such a moment.

Greetings, Gentlemen. – he said. – Welcome to Greater Prussia.

The woman extended her hand to the man who welcomed them. She had never seen someone quite like him and thought his armor and voice strange. WIckians tended to distrusts strangers, this situation would be no different. They were a people who for a good reason had a simple philosophy about allies, trust had to be earned through one’s actions. Until that point things were usually cold.

“Good day, I am Anita Cross of the WIckian Concordat Department of State. I am the senior officer of this diplomatic mission, This is…”She said motioning to the officer behind her, “Commodore Ross of the Sol Flotilla, commander of our military forcing currently garrisoning the Olympus-Corsica Station in orbit of Jupiter. You are our envoy ?” She asked introducing herself and her Protector.

"Indeed," said Marechal Kazansky, "I am the Emperor's man in this. You will pardon me this – I have long since officially retired, but sometimes I come out of my estate and dabble in politics. It's a bad habit, really, but it's rather hard to get rid of. Politics tend to do that to you, don't you know. But the Emperor had done so much for me I find myself obliged to do what I can for him. Some people call this virtue. I call it simple decency."

He turned to show the WIckians the approaching diplomatic vehicle – an elongated luxury car, the KriegsCorp-Allanean Arms Archduke, designed for the tastes of Great Prussian upper-classmen – long, with hand-made passenger cabin interior, and a nearly soundless engine. "Well, gentlemen, here's our transport. I suggest it's not a good idea to discuss our matters out here on the airfield… will you allow me to escort you to a nice restaurant, instead?"

Eddard Ross listened to the exchange between their envoy and Anita, as she forced him to call her. She heard her graciously accept that man's invitation. He did not know what to make of it, seemed more machine than man and WIckians were always uncomfortable around cyborgs, androids, or AI, it was an inherent paranoia for a very good reason but like most things in WIckian history it was a reason long forgotten.

He entered the ground-car last and to his credit was much more able to hide his shock at the quality of their transport. Anita was not so successful and even now he heard her engage the Emperor's Man in questions about its origin. That how he identified it, because he had yet to her him introduce itself. Something a conservative WIckian like Eddard Ross to much insult to even though it was a minor thing to most others. WIckians had a peculiar sense of pride, and the emperors fellow had already pricked it.

He heard Anita ask him a question,

"Yes it is a fine vehicle. I’ve ridden in ones of comparable luxury on Vernii. But such a vehicle would prove quite inefficient getting around Side Six would you not agree?” He said mentioning the name of the largest of the orbital habitats where the majority of WIckians lived in the barren system of Ticonderoga.

“It does feel good to have our feet on the ground and feel the sun once again, it has been awhile.” Due to their bloody conflict with the Ortagans the WIckians had lost much including their home world. Now the few survivors lived in cramped orbital habitats in the Ticonderoga system which was as an inhospitable of a system one could hope to find. All transportation in such habitats out of necessity was mass transit, and accommodations were utilitarian and considerably Spartan.

“I do not believe I caught your name Mr…?”

Kazansky turned to the WIckian if not for the voice modifier, a tint of surprise would be heard in his voice: “My name? Why, Alexander Kazansky, at your service. Haven’t the Emperor’s Foreign service done their job and informed you of my name?”

As they took their place in the vehicle, he noted; “Yes, you can’t use it in your colony… but then again, I understand your people are confined to the station by misfortune, not choice.. surely, if a a benevolent nation or alliance would have given them a bit of land to settle on, they’d leave the station very easily of their own free will, is that so?”

He nodded to the driver. “Take us to the Imperial Dragon, Sam. Let’s show the honored Ambassadors some true Imperial cuisine.”

The name meant nothing to Ross except now they knew what to call their envoy “We have not had much cause nor reason to learn much about the nations of Sol nor their people's in the past. They have never done a thing for my nation in the past so why should we have to learn about them? "

“As far as our colony is concerned Mr. Kazansky only a small portion of it actually inhabits the Sol system the majority currently live in orbital habitats at our capital of Ticodneroga in the Southern March of the Raumreich. Conditions in these habitats are less then desirable which explains our efforts to look for other locations more suitable for habitation. I think though one might be surprised though that many WIckians would rather live in Ticonderoga than move to Sol, our homelands are ours whether they are currently occupied by the Ortagans or not and is something we are loathe to give up.” Anita told the man.

As the vehicle rolled up to the large, and obviously high-class restaurant, Kazansky smiled: “Apparently I was misinformed about your situation. But I do understand you wish to acquire a certain amount of land in the Greater Prussian continent – or at least so have my aides told me. The Greater Prussian Empire, I am glad to say, will happily lend it’s assitance…”

A servant ran up and opened the door of the limousine.

“…at a price we can discuss over dinner.” – said Kazansky as the servant gracefully bowed to the diplomats who were exiting the car.

“Nothing in this world is free Mr. Kazansky that is a fact of life the WIckian people are well aware off. We are an independent people who value our liberty, if the GPE can provide us a settlement on this continent that will provide for that we will be rather content.” Anita told the solly as they enter the restaurant.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," a voice from behind them announced. Turning around, a cloaked figure approached both of them. "However, I do believe dinner is more important than anything we could possibly discuss. Food is truly great, after all." The strange cloaked figure looked around a bit, and then motioned in to the restaurant.

"Come, our table awaits." The cloaked figure led the party through the dining area to a back corner table, where a figure -- they couldn't see exactly who it was, due to the lighting -- was waiting for them. When he stood up to greet them, however, it was much more appearant as to who it was.

"I'm glad you could make it, Commodore Ross, Ms. Cross." He stuck out his hand to shake theirs. "I am Tsar Alexei Alexandrovich Andropov XIV, Monarch of Derscon, and Arch-Chancellor of the Greater Prussian Empire, although with Napoleon currently on vacation, I am filling in as de facto Emperor.

"PLease, have a seat," he said, motioning for Ms. Cross -- after all, she was a lady, and chivalry was still alive and well -- in Derscon, at least -- -- to sit first.

"Thank you Alexei, and please call me Anita." She told the man smiling, when everyone was seated she spoke again softly. "Perhaps before we get into any further discussion you I should tell you that I am here for one purpose. I am tasked with securing a region of undeveloped land that will become the sovereign territory of the Concordat, if that is not possible perhaps it could become an autonomous entity. This land will be developed to support the 350,000 WIckians currently inhabiting Sol. It is our intention should this land be granted to the Concordat from the GPE that it become a sort of treaty port within your region. I confess we are not all to familiar with the customs and regional government of this region but all that can be negotiated here and now, I would imagine." She told the Arch-Chancellor.

“My people need a place to live and Sol has been their home for just over a century, can you provide us with that home?”

"Okay, then, Anita," he said, smiling warmly and doing his best to be a good host. It was Dersconi custom to greet someone with a kiss on the cheek, but he didn't want to make the delegate uncomfortable, so he abstained from that particular greeting.

"So, the Imperial Dragon has a wonderful drink menu," he said, handing one over to Anita. "You should sample some of it. The Chateau de Rothschild and L'Empereur Reserve are some of the best wines I've ever had." As he was looking over the menu, he noticed that Anita wanted to speak, so Tsar Alexei set the menu down and listened to her.

When she finished, Alexei leaned back, bowed his head and closed his eyes, and thought for a moment. As his mind was rushing around, formulating all possible options and consequences of the actions taken, the waiter came by, snapping him out of his concentration.

"So, Your Majesty, your Excellencies, what would you like to drink this evening?"

"I'll have whatever Ale you carry on tap please." Anita told the waiter, and she heard the Commodore simply ask for some water. She waited for the others to place their drink orders before she asked her host another question.

"So what would you say in regards to my earlier question gentlemen?"

"About the land?" Alexei responded to Anita. She seems to enjoy getting to the point, not very diplomatic of her. Oh well, she's a nice person.

"Well, I do not forsee a problem in it. The exact location of it needs to be determined, of course, as does the actual governance of it, but other than that, there should be no arising difficulties at the moment." Well, not yet, he thought.


OOC: Ugh, post sucks, but I don't have a whole lot of time, sorry. :(

"There is currently over 250,000 people on the station orbiting Jupiter, the vast majority of those will be moved planet side. Any land granted would have to be large enough to support this population. Another concern our my nation would be the relationship between our people on planet and the other powers of the GPE. What are your thoughts on that matter, we WIckians as I said do not wish to be bound by the international governance of the GPE but rather exist as an autonomous entity in the region." She said as they waited for their drinks to arrive.

OOC: Hey, sorry about lack of response. Like I said, I can only get on when the weekends come around, and then only when it's late.


Alexei smiled. "Trust me, the Prussian continent has plenty of land. Derscon, while not the largest population-wise, has the largest land mass on the continent, and there is still much un-inhabited land there. Two hundred and fifty thousand people can be easily accomidated.

"As for being attached to the GPE, if you don't want to be a member, that is fine, but if you want to live amongst us, you at least have to be friendly neighbours. I'm sure at least a free-trade agreement could be reached; more, perhaps?

"And as the land you would be recieving is entirely undeveloped -- it's all forest land -- either the Prussian Empire as a whole, or just Derscon, can aide your citizens in construction and recolonization."

*BUMP*

I'm back now, WIck, so we can continue this thing. :D

OOC: Its Been a while I know...

IC: “Free trade with the settlement we establish would of course be welcome however interstellar trade back to our home systems in the Raumreich would of course be another matter altogether.” She told the Earther, “Another matter that I would be most interested in concluding here is to review a selection of probable site, I confess we know very little about this region.”

"Well," Tsar Alexei started, as Frank Sinatra began to play in the background. "I am suggesting free trade with the entire WIckian state. It really is but a small thing to pay -- if that's even the word to use, considering free trade benefits all parties involved -- for the land.

"Location-wise, I'm currently looking at three different locales for it. As I said, all of the locations are in their natural state, as to allow you to design it completely and totally to your liking. Would you like a mountainous place, flat forest land, or a coastal area?"

"I’ am afraid the entire WIckian state consists of one star system in the Raumreich. While it is a developing industrial center for its region, trade with Solarian powers really would not benefit our nation much. In addition the Liga der Raumreich has declared that free trade with foreign powers is not tolerable in the Raumreich, and that bodies decisions are binding upon its member nations. No if we are to buy an enclave from your territory it will not be purchased through a trade agreement." She stopped for a moment to consider, she herself was too young to remember Thetis, the WIckians former home world. She was born ten years after the destruction of its surface and before its sun was blocked by kilometers thick ash.

"I always wanted to live near the sea..." she told the Sollie imagining what that would be like.

The Tsar just grunted at the diplomats response. I believe, other than that bastard Knootian nation, no one has ever denied a deal from the Empire, or the Tsar. This one has balls.

"Well, if free trade isn't acceptable, then I suppose something else can be worked out, then." He listened to Anita dream and smiled.

"Well, it depends. The sea has many personalities, depending on where you meet her. I have a flat on the Island of Hope, where the sea is fairly calm and clear. You can snorkel and swim there and see the fish and coral there perfectly. Unless you like surfing, in which case you want more of the edge of a continent. Or you like the roughness and the power of the sea, where you want a rocky beach, and watch the waves crash upon the rocks and cliffs."

Anita watched the Tsar for a moment and she grinned to herself. He was clearly not a man who was used to hearing what he didn't want to hear. Well she was a WIckian and they were not a people easily intimidated and they bent their knee to no one. Of course that attitude had cost them much in the past, if it cost them some here then what the hell. WIckians played hardball with the Ortagans these Sollies were easy by comparison.

"I think that last option has the most appeal. We are a hardy people Tzar and we would enjoy a sea that has some real character to it."

Alexei took a small sip of wine from the Chateau de Rothschild and nodded. "Yes, that is what I would have chosen, also. A rough sea presents a challenge, and is a source of power, yet a constant reminder that there are things out there you cannot control.

"THere is land like that that can be given. But again, we must have something in return, and since you're so very reluctant to engage in a simple free trade agreement, I assume you have something else in mind?"