NationStates Jolt Archive

The sun was creeping into the room, slowly, but surely, another day was begging. But for most Franberrian civil servants, the “day” had begun hours ago, at night. The Ministry of the Maintenance of Peace, among almost every other Ministry, Department, Secretariat, Board and Committee had been hit with a flurry of activity. Out in the street, this could also be noticed, police, and apparently the whole city garrison, had come out in force, reinforcing the areas around embassies and major transportation areas, checkpoints had been set up around all public buildings.

Geoli Joolitan yawned, he had been up since 4 am, and had only gone to sleep at 12 pm the day before. He was tired, as was everyone around him, and the tea flowed like water, people drinking it in mass quantities striving to stay awake. He was meeting with the cabinet and the Chiefs of the Armed Forces, deep in the bowels of the Palace of Democracy, in a highly reinforced bunker. Or rather, thats what he should be doing. He had gone upstairs to check on the children, who had been woken up by all the activity, however, it presented no problem to them, as they had already been served food, and that would be the end of their problems for a while. The President looked at his watch, it was nearing the end of the hour, he had to return to the Situation Room. It took him some 5 minutes, heading from the 3rd floor of the Palace to being deep underground. All the security measures were in place, thank God he was the president, it would have taken a General or a Congressman about an hour to make the trip through the checkpoints. He walked into the room, all the screens were on, lighting him with an eerie glow , the President looked around, and exclaimed:

"Sorry for being late, you may get on with the hourly status report"

“Yes your Excellency, allow me one minute.” Grand Field Marshall of the Republic, Vicente Eduardo Parrena, who had as his task to co-ordinate the other branches, fiddled with a remote while pointing it at the largest screen in the room. The screen came to life, albeit a fuzzy grey one, and Parrena pressed some more buttons until an interactive map of the world appeared, and charts denoting the opposing sides crept onto the screen from the sides.
“As you can see here, your Excellency, Members of the cabinet, and others, this is a map of the world with the belligerent countries involved. Those in red are in the Questarian Commonwealth or aligned with it, and those in blue are with NATO and Gologoth. We have confirmed reports that many more nations have united to either side since the last status report, it seems that the entire QC has now joined, and large parts of NATO and Gologoth have gotten involved. We have reason to believe that the Skinny-Scandinavian States border is about to explode with military activity soon, and that invasion fleets have sailed, or are about to, for Doomingsland. As for our activity, all our primary fleets are now in full readiness, as are divisions on the coast or in the colonies, and garrisons of major port towns…”

“Thank you Field Marshall, that’s enough” Joolitan butted into the middle of Parrena’s phrase.

“Thank you Excellency”

“Well, we can safely assume how this will be interpreted by the rest of the world. Considering our diplomatic stance, which, is friendly towards almost every nation here, but even friendlier towards the QC, we have reason to believe that NATO and Gologothian nations will increase readiness towards us, and we may very well meet some diplomatic hostility. I have summoned the Questarian High Commissioner to our nation, and will then go with his information to a closed Congress and Senate, where we shall decide the course of Franberry in the midst of this conflict.”

The Republic of Groznyj

Official Communique

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Long Live Nokhchichoo

On behalf of my nation I suggest you do not get involved in this growing war. It is pointless and will only end in the bloodshed of millions of your people and billions around the world. Stay a peaceful land and prosper. I myself have no idea why I am writing this to your government other than a fairy told me to a few minutes ago. Nevertheless no one can profit from this war. It would be wise of you to stay out of it. We most certainly are.

The again... feel free to enter the war and go down in a blaze of glory. I only hope it is not my nation's foreign relief workers who will be tasked with helping the victims and participants of this pointless war when all shots have been fired and blood spilt.

Ibrahim Karachay,
Minister of State

Archibald Ingrain rubbed sleep out of his eyes as the Questarian government private jet touched down in Franberry. As a senior diplomat in the foreign office he had been sent to Franberry, Quester's closest ally outside of the Royal Georgian League and its own Empire, to discuss and find out what they could get from the Franberrians. The Franberrian armed forces, he knew, where in a state of disarray and wouldn't be much help in a war against the worlds supreme military power, but he knew he oculd count on the Franberrian populace for popular support and Franberrian industrialists to provide weapons for Questers.

He took a taxi down to where he was supposed to be met and upon arrival was escorted by guards into the Ministry of the Maintenance of Peace, one of millions of Franberrian bureaucracies that clogged their nations efficiency. Nonetheless, he arrived safely and adjusted his suit and tie and hair, rubbing some more sleep from his eyes before he entered the cabinet room to meet with the Franberrian government to inform them on a course of action.

“Your Excellency! Questarian diplomat, Archibald Ingrain, awaits outside.”
“Very well let him in.” Joolitan replied, making some vague hand gestures.
“Yes sir!”

The doors did their expected hissing, and the metal plates returned to their resting spots within the walls and the floor. Ingrain walked into the room, and Geoli Joolitan stood, along with the members of the cabinet and everyone else in the room. Ingrain looked neat, although it was evident that he lacked a bit of sleep. After exchanging pleasantries, Joolitan gestured Ingrain towards a seat, and introduced the other people sitting at the table.

“Now, my Questarian ally, please tell me in what manner Franberry can help your noble cause.”

Dusting himself off as he got out of the Car, the under-secretary for Commonwealth affairs in the Questarian Embassy was for in a rush. He was not representing the Commonwealth per-sa today, rather, he was visiting the Franberrian Ministry of Commerce as a representative of the Commonwealth of Northford, in an entirely independent role.

Thanking his chauffeur as he got out, he proceeded to the main doors of the complex. Large, a mix of Brick and Marble, it said everything about economic might. Walking through the opened doors, he approached a young women at the front office, making a particular fuss of the Diplomatic Card attached to his breast pocket.

“Evening Ma’am. I’ve got a meeting with a Franberrian Minister of Trade, 10:30, I believe” he asked, quietly.

“Ah yes…. Mr… Webb?” she asked, flipping through the list of appointments

“That’s me!” said Webb, smiling.

Looking at her computer monitor for a second, the blond quickly spoke “He’s free now though… save you waiting?”

Makes a Change he mused to himself, “That’ll be great.”

Following a guide through the building, he took note of the pictures that lined the walls, various different factories and important people within the Federal Sultanate.

Walking into the office he was directed into, he sat down, shaking hands with the man in front of him, making firm eye contact while delicately eyeing up the rather fine cut of his suit.

“Colin Webb, Northfordian Ambassador to the Federal Sultanate.” he said, warmly

“Vice-minister for Commerce, Manuel Antonio Tovar.”, responded the Franberrian, shaking hands, “I suppose you’re here to talk about Trade?”

“Vice-minister for Commerce, Manuel Antonio Tovar.”, responded the Franberrian, shaking hands, “I suppose you’re here to talk about Trade?”

"Of course" replied Webb

"I must inform you that the Federal Sultanate Duchydom of Franberry is most willing to aid Northford in any way possible. Tea?" Tovar gestured towards a servant holding two trays, one with two cups of tea, and the other with small crumpets and biscuits. "Or would you rather have coffee? I can call for it, or perhaps a stronger drink?" He indicated towards a small cabinet filled with alcohol.

"Tea will be fine, thank you" said Webb while he took out a briefcase and laid out some papers on Tovar's desk.

"Time to get to work I suppose?" said Tovar, chuckling.

"Time to get to work I suppose?" said Tovar, chuckling.

"Yes," said Webb, taking a sip, "Rather nice Tea too, thank you."

Continuing on, he picked out a small folder amongst the jumble of papers.

"This", he announced, "is projected shortfalls in Northfordian Profucktion. As you can see... over the next twelve months there will be a deficit of approximately 3 Trillion Universal Standard Dollars. That's little more than 2% the GDP of the country. That's 3 Trillion Dollars of Manufacturing, Mining, Heavy (and light) Industry and Shipping.

Essentially what the Commonwealth wants to know, is whether or not the Federal Sultanate Duchydom of Franberry can help make up this gap, and, if so, what percentage of it."

"Essentially what the Commonwealth wants to know, is whether or not the Federal Sultanate Duchydom of Franberry can help make up this gap, and, if so, what percentage of it."

Tavor looked through the folder, examining several charts.

"If my memory serves me right, we can supply you with about half of this request. Although I will have to eventually consult with the Ministers of Commerce, the Economy, Finance, International Relations, and the President himself. Now, how would you like these 1.5 Trillion Universal Standard Dollars, or thereabouts? Do you want the money itself, or would you rather we produce things for you at minimal charges?"

"....Do you want the money itself, or would you rather we produce things for you at minimal charges?"

'Now things were getting somewhere' thought Webb to himself. For some strange reason, he figured he's need to convince the Franberrians round to his way of thinking. Perhaps the Questarians had words?

"No no, we'll pay you... In fact, most Northfordian Businesses that are losing employee's are prepared to actually ship equipment over to where ever they are building from. As it stands, the private businesses are paying for this all themselves, with the Government meeting the cost for retooling to foreign safety standards.

Out of interest...should our demands increase, how much workforce capacity do you have?

Also, before you think about that, are there any... limits on what you're prepared to produce?"

"Out of interest...should our demands increase, how much workforce capacity do you have? Also, before you think about that, are there any... limits on what you're prepared to produce?"

"First of all, I'm sure we can re-direct a couple million from our own war industry, and as always, there are some unemployed here and there. Feel free to re-locate your workers if you wish to." Tovar indicated the work figures on a recently-printed sheet. "As for limits, Franberry would be unwilling to produce any WMDs, or any sort of weaponry that is not going to be used against soldiers. Other than that, start placing your orders. Oh, the Minister for the Economy has asked me to make you aware that Franberry has a large agricultural production force, if that is needed, it is also available at affordable prices."

"Relocate workers?", asked Webb. Obviously, the Franberrian got the wrong end of the stick.

"It's workers we lack, friend. Trust me, if we had people to spare, I wouldn't be here, offering your countrymen wads of cash. No, No, it's your workers we need. We'll pay you, and transfer machinery over where needed.

Thats good for the military side of things. Initially I came here only to discuss consumer goods and the such, but, well, seeing as we're on the topic. I'm sure we'll have to get into more details with out superiors, but, as it stands, we're looking to divert those employed in our 'Low sec Military' jobs to those making more important... more required.. things.

I'm talking about orders for Uniforms, Combat Rations, Cold-Combat Hats. Those kind of things?"

Taking another sip from his Tea, the Ambassador had one more thing to add.

"As for Food supply, the Commonwealth is still pretty open there. The Agricultural lobby isn't small, and until we need the extra manpower, we're not diverting anything."

"Now, as for bringing this to a close?" he asked, wondering how they were to go about actually doing it.

"Ah, it seems we have a misunderstanding, I meant to offer place here in Franberry to relocate your own workers, as depending on your fortunes, the war may very well reach Northford. We can produce whatever you need, producing things that are not weapons is even better, and will be much less suspicious if anyone notices. We completely understand on the agricultural issue as well. Now, if you agree, I can bring out a couple of forms that need signing, and we can wrap it up." Tavor concluded.

"Yes, we were misunderstanding one another." responded Webb, quickly correcting himself, "That doesn't sound like a bad proposal, I'll definately pass that one further up."

"What forms are these?" he asked, taking a pen out of his pocket.

"Oh its nothing, we shall be done quickly". Tavor explained. He punched a button on a panel resting on top of the desk. "Send in the paperwork now. Yes. Thank you."

The door opened, and with it, music entered Never gonna give you up, Never gonna let you down, Never gonna run around and desert you. Tavor, rather embarrassed at his secretary's choice of music mashed the panel. "Turn it off, now!"

The music suddenly cut off. "Sorry about that, the paperwork is coming in now." Tavor turned to the door, where two servants and a cart full of paper had appeared. "We got lucky this time, its almost nothing." Tavor exclaimed, as the servants unloaded, and at the same time classified, the documents that required signing.

"Right, lets get on with it shall we?" Tavor opened the first folder, and pointing at the page explained, "This particular document must be duplicated only five times, you have to sign here, here, put your initials here, and here, there too, and sign again here, blood type here, full title here, parents names here, and lastly, sign there at the bottom."

What the Cuntflaps? thought the Ambassador to himself, eyeing up what appeared to be a small mountains worth of paper.

"That's...a lot of sheets of paper. Is it all nessasary?" He asked, not 100% sure if his pen had enough ink in it to actually go through what looked like an hours writing in front of him.

"Of course its all necessary, its rather small, we got lucky this time around." Tavor assured the Northfordian ambassador. "Its all very simple too, we shall be done within the hour if we work quickly, at most we will be in here some ninety minutes."

"Ah.. righto." responded the Ambassador, "Guess we'll get stuck in then."

Taking his pen out, he started signing the first page.

"You know what, Sir, just point for me." he told Tavor, and with that, they started writing.

"You know what, Sir, just point for me." he told Tavor, and with that, they started writing.

And the time went by, and by. Just short of two hours after they had started, Tavor signed the last page.

"Very well my friend, we are done for today. Will you stay and have a cup of tea? or do you have business to attend to?" Tavor asked Webb, indicating the servants who had come to take away the paperwork, and who at the same time had brought a tray with tea and biscuits.

SIC:

Secret Diplomatic Communique

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To: Franberry
From: The World Soviet Party

Following with our policy of neutrality in the upcoming NATO-Questerian Commonwealth conflict, we couldnt avoid noticing that your fleets, while certainly impressive, are not powerful enough for a sustained combat (not to mention full naval combat with bigger vessels).
Anyways, I have been told, by the Soviet Goverment, to make you an offer you and your people might find interesting, that is, providing your navy with some quality ships, specially designed to take down bigger, more powerful (and more importantly, more expensive) enemy boats.
Thus, we would be willing to offer you, with a discount taking into consideration your total war status, a good number of Bergstein Class Light Frigates (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12331908&postcount=41), seeing as this ship is... flexible to say the least, capable of being adapted to carry and fire most of today's anti-shipping missiles, which we understand you possess in big numbers.

We await your response, be it negative or positive, looking forward to making our nation-to-nation relationships better.

Signed,
Nathan Andrets, TWSP's Armed Forces Commander.

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Diplomatic Communique to The World Soviet Party

The Federal Sultanate Duchydom of Franberry is a neutral faction in the QC/SL - NATO/Golgoth conflict. Franberry therefore has no need for your frigates. To add, even if we were at war, Franberry relies heavily on its own industry for building non-capital warships, if that were to fail, we would procure from friendlier SL governments, such as Questers, or other Havenites, such as Midlonia. Thank you however, for your offer.

"Very well my friend, we are done for today. Will you stay and have a cup of tea? or do you have business to attend to?" Tavor asked Webb, indicating the servants who had come to take away the paperwork, and who at the same time had brought a tray with tea and biscuits.

"Business, unfortunately Mr Tavor", responded Webb, frowning slightly, "I've got to get back to our Consulate, and at 19:00 hours tonight I have a flight on a supersonic Jet to Azaha, to liase with my opposite number there. From what I've just signed, looks like we'll be using their ports as a stop off and I'll need to confirm it. You been there recently?"

"No", replied Tavor, "Why?"

Looking slightly crestfallen, Webb replied "Oh, I was just wondering... the Northfordian Naval Engineering Corps is doing a series of massive constrution projects. And, well, what with all the dredged sand that's been shifted in preparations, they've made a couple of bloody nice artificial beaches."

Pausing slowly to straighten his tie, Webb continued "Some bugger in Northford is actually marketing it as a niché holiday. Too bad the war's coming.... eh?"

Pausing slowly to straighten his tie, Webb continued "Some bugger in Northford is actually marketing it as a niché holiday. Too bad the war's coming.... eh?"

"With any luck, victory will come quickly for your side, and you can invite me over to vacation at some of the beaches."

"As you said, with luck."

"Well, I hope your flight goes in order" Tavor indicated towards the door, where a servant stood. As the two men neared it, the servant bent over, and opened the door. Tavor addressed his secretary, "Have my good Northfordian friend here escorted to his vehicle."

She replied to the affirmative immediately, and patiently waited for the men to share a few parting words.

"May we meet at the victory banquet, Ambassador."

"I shall look forward to it." The men shook hands, and as Webb was escorted out of the building by a pair of guards, Tavor turned around and marched back into his office, bearing a wide smile. Franberry stood to make trillions, he would not be overlooked for promotion at the end of this year.