NationStates Jolt Archive

Kampfers Stadt, Kampfers
On the way to the airport

Fuhrer Richtoff rubbed his hands together inside the back of a Mercedes-Benz E class. It was a warm day outside, but inside the car it was nice and cool. His hands were sweating for a different reason. Today, he would be meeting with a representative from the nation of Jaredcohenia, and influential nation both in Haven, the HDI, the Mekugian Commonwealth, and the New Alliance Treaty Organization. As his car rolled slowly down towards the military airport, Richtoff wondered how the Cohenians would treat their rather clandestine arrival. It suited him well, but not all politicians disliked the thousands of swarming cameramen with such a vehemence as him.

The car rolled in the base, led by a black SUV and another E class and followed by a KM-131 Beschutzer. They headed over to runway 1-D, which had been specifically reserved for this timeslot for the Cohenians. Richtoff looked out the window and saw five F/A 15 Cardinals take off to bring the plane in without issue. The preperations were there. Security was at a maximum, both at the Reichstag and at the airport. It was time to let the cards fall where they may.

Somewhere above Kampfers Stadt

The Foreign Minister (whom also was the first child of the reigning monarch), Kristin, tidied up her hair. She had slept most of the long journey, with only one stop over in Rosbaningrad. The Foreign Minister was traveling to a nation she had yet to know about, Kampfers. Sure, the Cohenian populace knew a little about the Kampferians. They were in some alliance with a bunch of warmongers, one that the Cohenians disliked heavily. The plane was pretty much empty, only a few people sat inside the plane. There was Kristin, of course. In the chair across from her was a man, Albert Timishankya. Albert was a man in his 30s, he was on the airplane telephone. Al (what he will be called henceforth) was a devoted husband, speaking on the phone all day with his wife. About an hour into the flight, the Foreign Minister was sick of hearing "I love you more" from across that she spent the rest of the airplane ride with her iPod blasting away, carefully destroying her ears one beat at a time.

The Foreign Minister stood up from from her seat and scrummaged around the overhead, grabbing a large black leather handbag. The finest leather, of course. The cattle were slaughtered by some man in Franberry and sold cheaply to Cohenia, where it was tanned and turned into a designer handbag to fit whatever the Foreign Minister had. She walked into the plane's lavatory and opened it up, frantically looking for a pack of cigarettes in her purse. "Damnit!" she shouted, remembering that she used her last cigarette back in Rosbaningrad and had none now. She looked through every pocket, digging through makeup and personal electronics. "Yes!" she found one, and quickly lit it up. She closed the toilet seat (which was open, some swine left the seat wide open) and sat down, inhaling the various chemicals from the tobacco. Opening the bathroom's ashtray, she dumped the cigarette butt in and took out some makeup from her handbag, applying a quick touch up before meeting the Kampferians.

The plane's escort fighters landed prior to the private jet landing. Her escorts were the Emperor's own escort fighters, the pilots of His Majesty the Emperor's Private Service. The fighters of these were Mako aircraft by the Juumans, the ten pilots left their fighters and walked towards the steps of the private jet. The Princess of Cohenia left the plane, she was wearing a black dress and large sunglasses. She walked over to an HMPS pilot, "got a cig? I got the jitters..." The unnamed pilot pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and without hesitation gave one to the princess, where she promptly smoked it on the tarmac. "So where is this Richtoff guy, anyways?" She looked around, not seeing newspaper reporters. 'Odd,' thinking to herself. 'Normally there are five thousand reporters snapping photos of these events. Timishankya disembarked the plane, followed by a few members of Parliament and a few HMPS guardsmen. Smoke puffed out as he waited for the Kampferians to arrive.

Kampfers Stadt, Kampfers
Kampfers Stadt Joint Military Base

The convoy of cars pulled up to the parked planes. By now, the Kampferian fighters were circling overhead, just keeping an eye on things. As the cars rolled up to the planes, Richtoff brushed off his suit. By now he was cool, calm, and collected. As the cars rolled to a stop, his chauffer scampered to get out of the car and open the door for him. The Fuhrer bent his head down and climbed out of the car. It was a bit windy, and his hair ruflled in the breeze.

He turned towards the Cohenian contingent, roughly scanning over the crowd and matching faces and names with the people he had seen earlier in pictures. Without delay, Richtoff walked over to the delegation and began to welcome them warmly. "Very nice to meet you, and welcome to Kampfers." he said, extending his hand. "I am Eric Richtoff. I hope you don't mind the lack of media, but I assure you that once we leave the base they will be swarming the cars. I rather find it more peaceful without them, and thus arranged to meet you here. Pleasant, isn't it?"

While the Fuhrer spoke, the Kampferian soldier escort warily eyed the Cohenian pilots. They said nothing, and yet they viewed the Cohenians with a pretentious eye. They had learned a valuable lesson in training; trust no one. Despite their precautions, they made no offense towards the Cohenians. The chauffer of the Fuhrer and the driver of the other E class readied themselves at the doors of their cars. A few men from the Secret Service filed out of the SUV and stood behind the Fuhrer.

The Foreign Minister again was smoking another cigarette when the Kampferian began speaking to her. Dropping the cigarette and placing her shoe above the butt, she dug the spike of her heel onto the smoking cigarette and extinguised it. After scrapping the remains from her shoe onto the tarmac, Kristinextended her hand out and shook the Fuhrer's hand. "In my years of being in the limelight I've gotten used to the loudness.

A pilot caught the eye of an escort staring at him, and loudly in the Cohenian language he stated "Hey faggot, like what you see?" Most likely, the escort soldier of Kampfers didn't comprehend the Cohenian language. The Foreign Minister heard this, giggling for a moment. Afterwards, she turned around and threatened to smack the pilot.

"I'm sorry if you understood that. Anyways, I take it we're going somewhere? Unless, of course, you'd like a picnic on the tarmac." In response to the fuhrer's body guards standing behind him, several HMPS guards walked behind the Foreign Minister. "Shall we get going?"

OOC: shitty post, sorry.

"Yes, right this way. It's but a short drive to the Reichstag building, which is also where my office is." The Fuhrer escorted the Cohenians over to the cars, and let them climb inside. He followed, and the chauffer closed the door after him. He turned to Kristin and began to speak as the cars began to roll out of the base. "Now, if you will look on your left as we exit, you will see the campus of Kampfers 'University in Kampfers Stadt, my alma mater. I had a wonderful time there, but it was time for me to leave when I did. However, enough about me. How was your flight? How do you like Kampfers?" He patiently awaited a reply.

The driver looked into his rearview mirror at the passengers. That Timishankya man was one quiet fuck. He slowly steered te car out of the base, making sure to steer clear of the press which crowded the sides of the street. By that night, thousands of papers would have opictures of the Cohenian delegation, almost as if they thought they were breaking out a big secret meeting. Tim Yoon, the driver, sighed. He hated the press almost as much as Richtoff did. Yoon had been in the Kampferian Intelligence Bureau and had been in the center of a investigation regarding the death of a foreign diplomat, and Richtoff had managed to preserve him once his innocence was proven. Although he had been released from the KIB, Richtoff decided to retain his services as a chauffer/bodyguard. One more could never hurt.

The Kampferian soldiers looked oddly at the Cohenian who had spoken. As the convoy rolled out, one Kampferian soldier made a simulated motion to the Cohenians. If the Cohenian looked it up, he would find that the Kampferian had just told him to "shove it up your ass". The rest of the soldiers laughed, and chatted with each other in German.

OOC: Next post I'll have them arrive. That way we don't have tons of meaningless chatter.

"I went to University of Cohenia for my bachelors, currently working on my masters. My flight was alright..." She looked at Timishankya for a moment, and then back at the Fuhrer. "You try sitting across from this man for how long my flight was...he may seem quiet now, he's shy." When she said this, the man's ears propped up like a dog that just heard 'cookie.' In the process, he noticed the driver looking at him through the rear view mirror. Timishankya couldn't resist giving the driver a silly face, sticking his tongue out like he would to make his infant daughter laugh. "What the fuck are you doing?" Kristin asked, smacking the diplomat on the shoulder.

"Driver was looking at me oddly, you know." Timishankya spoke softly, he normally was louder. He knew not to scream at, of all people, the person who could have him fired in seconds.

She sighed at Timishankya, then looking back at the Kampferian. "I really haven't gotten an opinion of Kampfers yet. Seems nice, your soldiers seem a tad rude. Then again, mine aren't any better...best in the nation, and still are assholes - am I right?"

Yoon shook his head. Diplomats... he thought, and returned to his driving.

Richtoff laughed. "Yes maam, you sure have that right. I suppose it helps them when they get out in the field. Makes me glad I got out when I did. Now I'm an ass. Much longer and I'd have only had the hole." Richtoff laughed at his stupid joke. Truth be told he was still nervous about the whole affair. The Cohenians relations with the Zukaarians and the Doomani were not going to make anthing easy. He looked outside his window to see the Reichstag building. "Ah, here we are. Follow me this way to my office."

As tehy exited the car, Yoon waved to the people, and then drove off. The Fuhrer and his guests, meanwhile, passed through numerous security checkpoints and the Fuhrer easily cleared them all. Finally the reached the hall where the Fuhrer's office was located and two elite Kampferian guards stopped them. The Furher turned around. "At this point we must ask that all your guards except for one remain behind. Also, if you are holding a weapon of any kind, please place it on the table here. Then follow me."

Kristin looked at Richtoff, then giggled lightly at his joke. The Foreign Minister didn't quite understand exactly what the Kampferian was saying, it made no sense to her whatsoever. "I was told I was meeting a diplomat, not a comic!" Again, a dry laugh.

Three large, imposing body guards stood behind the foreign minister at the time of her being informed that only one could enter with her, albeit unarmed. She raised an eyebrow, "if your guards will be armed..." she was assuming this point, possibly making an ass out of herself and Richtoff, "why will mine not be allowed to?" She made another note, "considering it's the house of Kampfers' government, it will also be writhing with armed Kampferians. Why am I only permitted one?" After saying this, she realized she was not making a good impression to the Kampferians and sighed. "Sorry if I'm being rude."

Richtoff sighed. "Your not rude, it's just that the current state of affairs has our security on an elevated level. And ever since the assassination attempt in Vetaka, security where I am has been even more elevated. To be honest, even I couldn't order these men to let you have more than one guard." That of course was embellishment, but Richtoff didn't mind. Hopefully she wouldn't argue too much. "Besides, In my office I will only have one guard, it's not like you're going to be outnumbered."

Richtoff stepped back and began to walk down the hall. "Ready?"

Kristin had no place to argue. It wasn't her nation, she had to be polite in order to establish some sort of diplomatic tie with the Kampferians. "But you do know, I am a woman. Perhaps you big strong men could attack me and do unspeakable things to me!" She laughed, she wasn't making fun of the stature or anyone. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, perhaps in Kampfers women were looked down upon like they were in Cohenia. Most women had their rights infringed, except the rich. The populace of Jaredcohenia learned quickly to love their future foreign minister, watching her grow from being a baby to a woman throughout the years. "But yes, I am ready." She motioned to a large, imposing figure behind her. "This is Eric, Mr. Richtoff. He'll be my bodyguard, if that's alright with you."

Eric was a large man, he had shoulders as wide as a doorway and muscles that, when measured around in inches, were "old enough to drink." He was blonde, nearly twohundred seventy five pounds, and spoke little. English wasn't his first language, he was from out west in Cohenia. A native speaker of the Cohenian language, what he did say was short and to the point. (+5 if you guess who this is an allusion to).

"Ok." the Fuhrer said, leading down the hall and into an office on the right. On guard outside the office were two Kampferians in full dress uniforms. They saluted to the Fuhrer as he entered and watched his guests closely. Inside the office, one more guard stood watch. He did not so much as flinch at the new arrivals. The girl had one thing right, life as a woman was tougher in Kampfers, but it wasn't as hard as in other nations.

Richtoff motioned for the two to sit, but did not do so himself. "Now, as I understand it, we have had no prior relations with your nation, am I right?" He knew he was, but he did not want the guests to feel that he was dominating the conversation.

The Foreign Minister sat down, placing a bag on a surface in front of her. She used her hand to motion Eric to sit, but he declined. "You are correct, our nations have yet to formally engage in any sort of diplomatic contact. I'm also sure our two nations have yet to informally engage in any sort of contact, either. I guess today we'll be starting." She opened up her handbag, taking out a pen.

"I assume you have some sort of idea of a diplomatic agreement, as you called me here." She opened her bag again and took out a blister pack of gum. "Chewing gum?"

"No, thanks, I'd rather not," Richtoff replied. "Well, I am very interested in opening closer relations with your nation, however, a few things hinder me from doing so. For one, your nation is known as a prominent stronghold of slavery. I am not here to tell you to abandon your culture and your economic system, but I would like it if you would explain your reasoning to me." Richtoff took a seat, unbuttoning his suit on the way down so not as to rip it. He wished he had taken that piece of gum, as hunger ravaged his stomach, but it was too late now.

"Communist," she thought, dare not saying a word. "How dare he question a free market economy...humans are just as profitable as animals are." She regained her composure, "uh...yes. Slavery. It's something that my nation has held in a grand tradition for thousands of years. When ancient Cohenians would travel to a new land and fight wars, they'd bring back prisoners of war as trophies. These soldiers would be revered as heros, as are all soldiers today. As a reward, the people would buy these prisoners off of the soldiers, a soldier doesn't make much money and a servant does." She cracked her gum, "I'm sure you're thinking how this doesn't relate to now, so let me sum it up for you. My nation is a capitalist one, Mr. Fuhrer. My nation believes that the government should not regulate what can and can't be sold, and if it makes you any better the practice of slavery is dwindling in my nation. If a slave, two weeks purchased, breaks his leg, what do you do with this man? Money gone into the gutter, a practice of day laboring is taking over. A quarter yuran or whatever they're paid a day versus one thousand yurans for a life time. Sure, possibly more expensive in the long run...but who uses a slave after he's past his prime?"

Richtoff sighed. It was a common argument to say the most, if poorly constructed. But, everyone was entitled to their own opinion. Richtoff took a sip from a waterbottle on his desk, and then began his response.

"Well, I can't say that I haven't heard that one before, and while I don't agree with you, it is not my place to impose anything upon you. Now, I imagine that trade already exists between our nations, as we both have no tariffs, but to encourage such trade and tourism, I wonder if your nation would be interested in increasing the number of civilian flights to Kampfers in return for us doing the same for you. This would bring in added revenue for the both of us, and would hopefully encourage foreign nvestment into each of our nations buisnesses. How does this sound?"

"Dick, you're the one who asked me."

"You've heard it before as it works, a slave is an investment in the future. A day laborer is an investment for...wait, you pay him when he's done. Nevermind on that." Kristin looked at the Fuhrer, realizing she shouldn't have said what she did. It was his freedom to think what he wanted of slavery, what Kampfers thought of human rights was not anywhere near what Cohenia thought of it. "But of course, encouraging tourism between our nations would improve both of our economies." The Foreign Minister knew nothing of the Kampferian economy, economics was not her forté. "What about some sort of non aggression pact, amicable relations between our two nations?" It was a stretch, but she tried. A non-aggression pact would always be a good idea, perhaps the Kampferians feared the vicious Cohenian slave traders and thought that the vicious Cohenians would invade, enslave, and sell their lives on the Trans Havenic Slave Market. She was biting the bullet here, Kristin was unsure if she was being too up front at the moment - her nerves had to be calmed. "Is there smoking allowed in the building?" Kristin asked as a pack of smokes (that was taken from a pilot) left her handbag and went into her hand. "I'm getting a craving for one."

"Go ahead, feel free," the Fuhrer responded. "I choose not to smoke, but it is not prohibited. Now, back to the issues on hand." Richtoff took a deep breath before continuing. "While I alone might not object to a non-agression pact between our nations, certain... situations... lately distract from this. Noteworthy among these is your actions on Plumey Island, now known as Estonsko. While they may seem insignificant to you, the Prestonians are our allies and we have many economic interests within their nations. They are not always the best with words as most nations, but they mean no harm. However, their fears will not be unadressed. I can not be stripped of my powers to help an ally if you were to attack them. Understand that I am not accusing you of anything, but rather I aim to ensure the peace and safety of all people. The only way I could agree to such a pact would be if the Prestonians were included. What do you think of this?"

There he went. There was his big push. She had made her move, and he had countered. Now it was up to her to find out the result.

Before she heard the Kampferian mention Estonsko, Kristin had the flame lit on her lighter. The word entered her mind, the fire went out, cigarette dry in her mouth. Obviously not happy with this question, she remarked "what makes you think my nation has any intentions with the Central Prestonians? Is my nation's gaining of Estonsko threatening to you? Personally, I do think you're insinuating that my nation is of a warmongering kind." She reclicked her lighter, producing a small flame. The flame was lifted to the end of the cigarette, she momentarily exhaled smoke. "My nation does not feel comfortable, Mr. Richtoff, with signing a non-aggression pact with a nation so transitional as Central Prestonia. They were founded in what, mid 2007? Such a young nation can not ahve a peaceful democracy, or any type of peace for that matter."

Richtoff sighed. It was as he suspected. "All I know is what my allies tell me, m'lady. And what I have heard is that you are building up offensive military weaponry on the island. Nonetheless, I have no doubt that this will not result in conflict between the two of your nations, however I am not prepared to sign a non-agression pact with you at this time. As for their govenrment not being stable, Kampfers has only existed in this iteration for near 3 years, yet you do not mention the instability of our system. I believe this subject of our discussion is closed for the moment. Now, would you like to discuss anything else?"

"And what, dare I say...", Kristin spoke, "have you heard? The Prestonians themselves told us they were building up large military fortifications on that Stanley Island or whatever it's called, and Admiral Popinski informed my Parliament that in response to this action we will be placing anti-shipping missiles on the island. Nothing more than an anti-shipping missile here and there, nothing big. The Prestonian response to our arrival in Estonsko was regarded as an insult, and thus we built up defensive capabilities on the island. You do not mention anything of the Prestonian build up, and their one million soldiers on one island alone. So it is a threat that my nation responds to a threat? Suddenly we're the bad guys because we respond to a nation that, upon our purchasing, warns us of one million soldiers on the island?" She placed her cigarette down. "There are no offensive fortifications on the island, only defensive ones. I'm pretty sure our discussions are done, unless you can think of anything."

"Well, good day then. Soldier, show them to the door." Richtoff turned to his computer and the soldier moved to escort the visitors back to the cars. "This way please" he gruffly uttered.