NationStates Jolt Archive

HMS Protector sailed resolutely towards Norway. They were close enough now that Mister Thompson could see the coast line. Norway had been informed they were coming via telegraph, and, even if for some reason they were feeling astonishingly hostile today, Mister Thompson deeply hoped that they would not be suicidal enough to sink a ship of His Majesty's Navy.

Mister Thompson lit a cigar, from the Confederate States. That was certainly one advantage to being allied to them, though Mister Thompson, as HMS Protector announced over the wireless that it was preparing to launch a launch to bring Mister Thompson to shore.

Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson breathed in the salty air around the Olso docks. When he had been sent out to the docks to wait for the British Emissary, he had been a little surprised. He decided to make the best of it and dressed in appropriate clothing. The trip to the docks had been fun in one of those new-fangled auto-mobiles. 'Splendid little invention' he thought.

Once at the docks he spent a few minutes aquiring the location of the incoming vessel and to which docking station they would be entering. Once he found this out, he and his group of clerks and attendants made their way to the station. There they were informed they would have to wait at least 10 minutes to 25 minutes for the vessel's landing party. Bjørnson didn't mind the wait, he liked the fresh salty air. His followers on the other hand, didn't

Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson breathed in the salty air around the Olso docks. When he had been sent out to the docks to wait for the British Emissary, he had been a little surprised. He decided to make the best of it and dressed in appropriate clothing. The trip to the docks had been fun in one of those new-fangled auto-mobiles. 'Splendid little invention' he thought.

Once at the docks he spent a few minutes aquiring the location of the incoming vessel and to which docking station they would be entering. Once he found this out, he and his group of clerks and attendants made their way to the station. There they were informed they would have to wait at least 10 minutes to 25 minutes for the vessel's landing party. Bjørnson didn't mind the wait, he liked the fresh salty air. His followers on the other hand, didn't

Mr. Thompson stepped off the boats at the docks. He glanced towards the crowd of dignitaries, and picked out the man who was clearly their leader, and, as clearly, enjoying himself.

He strode confidently towards the group, and extended his hand. "Mr. Bjørnson, I assume?" He asked, in good, if obviously accented Norwegian. "My name is Mr. Thompson. As I assume you are aware, I am here to represent the interests of His Majesty's Government.

"Ah, yes Mr. Thompson. I am Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, but you may call me Mr. Bjørnson if would like" He said in English with a Norwegian Accent. "We did receive a telegraph from you so we undertand the situation, unless theres been a change." He shook Mr. Thompson's hand and motioned for him to follow his group.

"Please follow, we will take you to our small group of... Auto-Mobiles, they call them, fascinating creations." Bjørnson said. He and his group began to walk back the way they came.

Mr. Thompson nodded, and followed Bjørnson to the cluster of autmobiles. "Indeed," he said, "Although, frankly, even more exciting than their various civilian uses is their military application. But I'm afraid I can't say much more than that."

"Aye, they do have quite a few uses" Bjørnson said. "Ah, here's the Auto-Mobiles now". He motioned to the rear car, which was obviously reserved for him and Mr. Thompson. He and Mr. Thompson both entered the Vehicle.

"Now. Mr. Thompson, what does the British Crown wish of us?" Bjørnson said with an odd calmness to his voice.

Mr. Thompson paused before answering, and drew a cigar from his pocket, offering it to Mr. Bjørnson. Then he continued. "As I'm sure your government is aware, Mr. Bjørnson, for some time, tensions have been growing between Britain, France, Russia, Germany, Austria Hungary, the Ottomans, the CSA and the USA. There is potential for a war such as this world has never seen before. Should that happen, it would be difficult for any nation to remain aloof. We would like to know where Norway would stand in such an event."

Bjørnson quietly refused the Cigar. He didn't like tobacco, he loved the smell of the air too much. He thought about Mr. Thompson's words before carefully choosing his words. Alot could be made of his next few sentences.

"Mr. Thompson, as you may know, Norway has never had a good relationship with Germany, Russia, and the Ottomans. On the German side, we just don't like them. We don't like the Russians because they hold some of our Scandinavian brethren. And the Ottoman Empire threatens Greece and it's King, who is a reletive of our King." Bjørnson said.

"But, Norway has had good relations with Britain and France." He said. He paused waiting for this info to sink in for Mr. Thompson. To make sure that Mr. Thompson understood what he was trying to say Bjørnson began to speak again.

"What I am saying Mr. Thompson is that Norway would fight with you, if it came to war." He said. He then sat down and waited for the reaction.

Mr. Thompson beamed. "Good," he said. "I'm very glad to hear that. Now that that business is out of the way, there are a few more mundane matters to handle. To begin with, Britain would like to inquire into the possibility of purchasing a naval base on the southern tip of Norway, to maintain a ready garrison both for the protection of British shipping, and, should unfortunate circumstances necessitate it, for the defense of Norway."

"Mr. Thompson, such a base would be targeted immediately by the Germans." Bjørnson said. "Such a base would endanger Norway more then protect her." He thought up an alternative quickly, hoping that the King wouldn't mind.

"Although, a base up around Narvik wouldn't draw as much attention. It would cost more, yes we know, but we will pay a portion of the maintenance on it." He said. Not waiting for an answer, he changed the subject.

"Now, you may have heard that His Majesty King Haakon is trying to get himself installed as King of Danemark*. We would like to inquire as to your opinions on this?" He said.


*OOC: Denmark just said differently.

"Having extensively reviewed Norway's claims, His Majesty's Government has come to the official position that the current King of Denmark has a valid claim," said Mr. Thompson sorrowfully. "However, further research revealed that, should something..." he paused for a moment, as if searching for the Norwegian equivilant for the word. "Unfortunate," he said finally, "Yes. Should anything unfortunate happen to His Danish Majesty, Great Britain is firmly of the opinion that you hav the strongest claim to the throne."

"Ahhh, is that so" Bjørnson said. He thought for a moment. This was surely a sticky pickle. How to dispose of the King's own brother? Maybe, the King himself would have an idea.

"Well, I beleive most our business is concluded" Bjørnson said. "Unless you have more to talk of."