NationStates Jolt Archive

Theoropian City of Valkograd
10:30AM

"Did you send out the letters, Comrade General?"

The General turned his head. "I just finished, Sergey. I also have put guards in and around the building. I even have a reactionary force ready, just in case."

Sergey took a drag on his cigarette. Well, he though, at least the General isn't stupid. He hoped everything would work out.

Valkograd
1327 hours

What a long fucking flight, Foreign Minister Veronica DiCicco thought to herself as she entered the building that the negotiations would be held in. Two SIS agents began to follow her in, but with a quick flip of her wrist, she silently ordered them to stand back. This was no time to bring more guns in to this. She was a diplomat, not a soldier.

She saw two Theoropian officials, one of which appeared to be a General. DiCicco introduced herself politely, but briefly, asking where the negotiation room was.

A woman? They send a woman?, the General thought. It was odd to him, because woman were not often tasked with such an important job. No matter, he thought. "Sorry, m'am. But until the representatives from the other nations show up, you'll have to stay in the Executive Suite here in the hotel. Sergey will get your bags and show you to your room, if you wish."

Sergey flipped the cigarrette from his fingers. She wasn't bad looking...for a diplomat. "Right this way, m'am".

Valkograd

Lums exited the helicopter and stretched, Mediterranica was a long way from Theoroshia. Behind him stood two Had Jemzi bodyguards.

"Is everything alright Minister?" one of the guards asked

"Yes quite fine...just a long trip is all..It appears that some other delegates have already arrived." Noticing the plane bearing the Londonian markings..Nigel quickly grabbed his things and made his way inside to find his Mediterranican ally..the two Jemzi bodyguards closely behind him.

OOC: I have to go for a bit I shall return later

"Thanks," Veronica said politely. There wasn't a whole lot to say to that. The room was decent enough, though. A nice, plush bed...a hot shower...it would have to do. She picked up the phone.

"Room Service? I'd like a bottle of rum and some glasses sent up to Room 617. When? Erm, as soon as possible. Okay, thank you very much."

The General turned his head as the representative from Gataway entered.

"Sir, I am going to have to ask that you leave your guards outside. We don't want anything...unfortunate...to happen."

--------
The room attendant had just exited the elevator when Sergey caught up with him.

"Good evening, Comrade Attendant. Why not let me take that?"

The attendant didn't object. He just wanted to get back into the kitchen and sleep.

Who knows, Sergey thought to himself as he pushed to cart to the diplomats room. Not all diplomats are evil...or bad looking.

The Clandonian delegation had just arrived fresh of the Sabre space plane and were whisked away to the delegation centres. Sir Alan Philips, Clandonian Minister for Foreign Affairs had begrudgingly accepted that he had to go, arguing with the Prime Minister for two hours claiming that when the main fleet arrived he would be needed back in the homeland.

"This is a bloody waste of time." He muttered under his breath to his aides as they walked into the building.

"Reports from home suggest that the preparations are almost ready, not to long now before the full fleet force arrives."

"Good don't say anything more about it now, we are out of this third world nation in forty eight hours as I certainly am not going to be talked down by some misty eyed Londinium nationalist who wants to return to his paleogenetic fascist past of blending babies..."

Veronica sat in the hotel's restaurant, sitting at the bar, reading the news on her laptop.

"Steak'll be here in a minute, miss," a waiter hollered. She nodded in acknowlegement.

An aide in a dark, black suit traipsed up to the bar, whispering, "The Clandonians have arrived." He left just as quickly.

Filthy scum, she thought. Damn imperialistic pigs. I hope they choke.

OOC: I hate arriving!!!!

"The Crown government is willing to negotiate with the government of British Londinium, if Clandonian merchant shipping is allowed passage we are willing to provide assurances that British Londinium will be under protection from the United Kingdom and will receive a sizeable economic aid package."

Taking a sip of water Sir Philips produced a document holder from the red HMG official document case.

"These papers here will authorise economic aid packages totalling eight hundred billion Clandonian Crowns a year with additional money paid for the leasing of a large air base for at RCAF Kensington. Clandonian business sends word that it wants to increase investment particularly in petrochemical and oil industries due the chronic shortage we face, in return we offer uranium and nuclear technology providing it is not used in a provocative or offensive manor."

"You offer a tempting deal. But I'm not an idiot, and neither is this government. Mr Swanner during the Londinian Wars may have been a pushover, and Sinclair may have been an incompetent fool, but we will not be so easy to walk over.

Assurances, Sir Phillips, are worth nothing to me. You might as well be providing one of those silly 'pinky swears' that gradeschoolers do. I'm afraid something a little more...substantial will be needed before we can make progress."

"His Majesty does not want to involve another his people in another war again, we just want to safeguard our economy. What do you desire so much?"

"We will provide you with access to Londinian petrochemical reserves - but Londinian companies that are more...cooperative will be responsible for the selling. The only way this blockade will be lifted, unless you persuade me otherwise, will be if Clandonia, specifically Clandonia, removes their bases from our nation.

A pale blue folder emblazoned with the words "Her Majesty's Londinian Government" was slid across the table.

"You'll find the details in there."

"I can't make that decision here but I will enquire, the guarantee would have to be made that Clandonian shipping and businesses would be protected and that if there was danger then our forces would be allowed entry into your territorial waters and airspace."

Reading the folder he passed it to his aid.

"Have these dispatched at once to the PM's office and the FO."

The aid came back, nearly out of breath between running between the fax machine trying to send the whole document through to the other end.

"Minister, here is the reply."

Reading the document, The Crown government is prepared to leave the base with Clandonian forces able to hand over to the Praetonians within a week with a total pull out of all Clandonian forces by fourteen days.

"We are prepared to give up the base to the Praetonians who have requested it, this could be done within a week with a total pull out of all Clandonian forces stationed there within fourteen days."

Taking another gulp of the water.

"It seems that we have a deal. As soon as you withdraw from the bases and your navy stops amassing ships in their blockade, our military cruisers will return to port. Your merchant vessels will be treated as if they were our own. No harm will come to Clandonian business."

"It seems that we have a deal. As soon as you withdraw from the bases and your navy stops amassing ships in their blockade, our military cruisers will return to port. Your merchant vessels will be treated as if they were our own. No harm will come to Clandonian business."

"It's a deal then." Spoke the Minister putting forward his hand to shake the Londinium counterpart.

"Peace in our time, we are just slaves to the diplomatic game. Our fleet will begin withdrawing within the hour, they will be out of your waters by the end of the evening."

Thank God for that. Noting the report which his aid had slipped to him ordering him to return to the capital post-haste for urgent reasons, something was up at home...