NationStates Jolt Archive

'Tis evening on the moorland free,
The starlit wave is still:
Home is the sailor from the sea,
The hunter from the hill.

Foxbridge closed his personal journal and though about the first stanza of the poem, and that what he would be pouring forth upon the quay would not be the "plunder of the world" but damanged ships of war, and the bloody, broken crews who had stood in harms way for those who did not deserve their efforts. He was still smolderingly angry that he and his people had been naught more than a distraction piece while their erstwhile allies had treacherously done what he and his had set out to prevent. And then came a unexpected but apt trun about. His lips curled in a disgusted, savage grin.

The news had gotten out in the long days of limping to Catawaba. The invaders had paid for their treachery - they in turn had been assassinated by those they ...His thoughs disolved into jolting unexpected memory...

The red light fastness of the flag bridge, his defense officer reacting even before the trarditional cry had left his sensor suite's operator's lips... For his Tactical Officer Was one..."Vampires, Vampires!! We have multiple launches. The Red Tide fleet has shot their load!" The sensor tech's voice tried to remain calm, but he was so young -this his first cruise in the exalted realm of a flag bridge.

"Sir, the net estimates over two K coming our way the rest is ranged for the Romeo's. Confidence is green on that two thousand four hundred inboud on track. They had to have flushed nearly every thing they had at once, Admiral" His TacD, Lieutenant Savaad said softly as her nimble fingers, moving with speeds only another vampire could have matched, brought up additioal reports. She had already authorized the defensive response, the basics had been chosen from the variations hours ago.

Beside the pale skinned vampiress the TacA officer was handling his own concerns, releasing the missiles that would bite deep into their foe, for no Tanaaran vessel would allow an atttack to go unreturned, and he's already been given 'weapons free' hours ago, held only in check by the Admiral's "Wait for it..." but now the waiting was over...

"Starkey, get your people out of here. And don't be stubborn, name a grand kid after me, Foxdbridge out..."

When a ship of war fires it's weapons, you feel it, no matter where on the ship you are. The medium a ship moves on and through is too fluid for otherwise, and his ship was no different. He felt, if only faintly, each launch of the elecro mag catpults, as his people scrambled to get as many Butterflies and Firedarts to the safety of the skies as they could, before the metal storm hit them.

Then there was no time left as the Phallanax guns came into play to try their own storm against the surviving shipkillers. But even they with their vertible walls of interdiction could not take out all of the survivors and ...

Foxbridge shuddered at the butchers bill. He was an old fashioned Admiral. He'd written all nineteen hundred of the Formals, the black edged notes to the families of the deceased. And so many had nothing left in the way of remians to recover. Though there would be enough Life Diamonds to go around for every one.

His own wound ached distantly, underneath the slathers of 'blue goop' with its billions of nanos that were busy keeping infection and greater pain at bay. The Hawks Nest and the Serpeants Reach had both taken significant damage and Rear Admiral Mondragoon had been 'life flighted' back to Tanaara aboard a specially outfited medical HST, her wounds had been all but fatal.

He stood with slow stiffness and looked out the nearest port in his dimly lit cabin, at the shadowy silhouettes of Third fleet against the wine dark sea, and could only think of how glad he was that they were there to protect his battered Task Force. And closer still rode the Catawaban Navy, and he was glad of their presence too. He and Josiah Starkey, their Admiral, still hadn't had a chance to have that dinner they'd been planning...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Music to mood by... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhjCzBJGNlU)

CNS Intrepid
International waters steaming towards Catawaba

Admiral Starkey leaned out over the railing, taking in a deep breath of sea air. He closed his eyes and felt the salt seep into his bones. His was a naval family, brine not blood flowed in his veins. Some of his sailors thought that was why he could be so cool like when he sat there and prayed calmly as those CM-4s came in. The salt flowing in his blood lowered the freezing point of his blood.

Josiah puffed out the breath. It wasn't true. He'd been terrified. Only a mad man couldn't be scared by that storm of missiles that had been launched at them. The Intrepid's AEGIS combat system hadn't been able to track all of them. The whole situation had reminded Josiah of King Leonidas and the Spartans' defense at Thermoplyae. The Persians said, "Our arrows will blot out the sun!"

King Leonidas answered, "So we will fight in the shade."

Starkey had fought in the shade of the Red Tide volley. First his ships had rocked as their SM-2ERs rippled out to engage the CM-4s as they came. Then when they'd launched all of those, his ships switched to their smaller but fair more numberous Evolved Sea Sparrows. As the CM-4s started to fall, his people, he couldn't be more proud of them, stalwartly stayed at their posts and kept firing.

Then the missiles went over their heads. It had been a relief. Josiah couldn't lie. It felt like the axe waiting above his neck had been lifted. Then it'd be nothing but horror as the leading missiles started falling amongst the Tanaaran and Romandaen fleets. Josiah remembered, he'd stopped praying when Captain Nellie Mountalban swore as explosions started ripping at the Tanaaran ships they'd been sailing towards. He barely remembered cursing at his people to keep up the fire, that they had to save the others now.

More and more Catawban missiles lept from their launch tubes. Until at last the wreathing smoke from the missile launches disapaited from around his ships as they had no more missiles left to launch. Some eight hundred missile fired off like mad. More than Starkey can ever recall firing in his whole naval career. The CM-4s kept coming. Now, his little flotilla was without SAMs to defend their friends.

Then the kind of insanity that could only have been birthed from too much exposure to Major Dalaeni of the Marines or Colonel Quigley of the Air Force appeared to Starkey. His ships had one last defense to lend the Tanaarans, their Phalanx Close In Weapon Systems. He'd jumped from his chair and stood at the bridge's bow ports like some old commodore aboard a ship of the line. He barely looked over his shoulder as he ordered his ships to advance at flank speed into the midst of the Tanaaran fleet and target any incoming missile with their Phalanxes.

There'd been a stunned silence then an explosion of Vornskrari hunting howls. Some crew members report that he'd said "Bring us in with the Tanaarans! We can give those Red Tide droppings the gun or take a few for our allies! Vornskrari look after their pack!" Josiah didn't believe he would say something like that, but the crew seemed to like retelling it. He was sure it'd play up big time when they got home.

But that's basically what they did, his six ships had cruised right into middle of the flaming, exploding hell and fired off their CIWSs. It'd been tough, at the edge of range, but they thought they'd gotten a couple. When the destroyer Rampart had seen the Tanaaran carrier Serpent's Reach take heavy damage, the little Rampart had closed to put the carrier right within the Phalanx's optimal three hundred meter range and began banging away at any missile coming near the Tanarran carrier.

Starkey looked aft and saw the limping Rampart. Her superstructure was melted and burned. She'd hit one of the CM-4s meant for the Tanaarans, and the missile had spiraled off wildly as thirty milimeter cannon shells ripped through the spent rocket motor and tail section. It came in at an oblique angle and hit the bridge and the forward superstructure, killing almost everyone in those sections. Rampart was now being sailed by jury-rigged auxiliary control.

Josiah would make sure that Captain Jocard would get the highest commendation for bravery possible for his courage, post-humously. All of the ships' crews would be getting battle commendations, but the crew of Rampart would be getting a battle commendation with renown. Fifty-six dead, Starkey blanched at the thought. It could have been worse for his people, but to avoid those losses would have meant worse for the other fleets.

Starkey shook his head. Redoubt and Reliance had even resorted to using their main guns in an attempt to knock down more CM-4s. There wasn't reliable proof, but the crews of those guns vehemently claim a pair of missiles each.

Starkey sighed and looked out towards the battered Tanaaran fleet that crested the waves, still defiant against the ravages of sea and foe. It would be nice to get home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The People's House
One Catawaba Plaza
Graceland, Catawba

Alpha Miraade sat slouched in lounge seat in a parlor as far away from his office as he could be and still be in the Miraade's residence. He stared at the glass of Neshoba port as he swirled the thick, syrupy wine. The past few days had been mix of highs and lows.

Starkey and Second Fleet were coming home. That was very good, but fifty-six sailors were dead. Errant sighed and stopped swirling his port long enough to take a sip.

It could have been worse, but that made him feel no better. The Fabians had goose-stepping occupation troops all over, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He certainly didn't have to military to make a difference against the legions already in country. And he couldn't send Marine Vornskrari Special Mission platoons in because he knew they'd only get wiped out and bring ire and fire right down on Catawaba.

Then the Society of the Mind executed those diplomats. That was a horrific breach of diplomatic conduct. It was made even more horrific that if not for the Kangaroo crash, Rea would have been there. Errant glanced up from his glass. Rea was sitting across from him. She had her right arm in a thick cast and supported by a sling. She was holding a glass of port in her other hand and staring at him over its rim.

The image of Rea's big green eyes staring into the barrel of Fabian rifle right before the bullets tore her to ribbons replayed in his head every time he thought about Saint Fabian. That scared him more than the thought that if it hadn't been for the missile exchange that delayed the Tanaaran Queen's flight, he might have been there too.

Errant rolled his eyes as he took another sip. He'd told the Tanaarans he was sending Matthew Quigley, but that'd been all apart of a Quigley-esque scheme Lolimba Bevu, his Secretary for Foriegn Affairs, had dreamed up to give him a bit more security when he left. He and Matt actually looked a lot of like. A rakish scar from the left eye across the nose to the right cheek and darker blue contacts and Errant could be a spitting image of Matthew Quigley. It confused the hell out of both of them how they looked so much alike and led them to both speculate that they were both Maxmillian Vipe's illegitimate children some how.

Matt was unsure. His mother and father were dead, and anyone that might know were definitely taking that kind of secret to their grave. Errant knew he was the bastard of Maxmillian Vipe, Rea's father. When Ol'Max was a young officer, he'd raped a young Taung girl, and thus Errant was born. Errant hadn't even known who his father was, until Maxmillian had tried to end his career in the Togovian Marines. He'd hated the man until his death two years ago. He'd down-graded to 'seething dislike' because Rea asked him to. She was the only thing connected to the man that Errant actually liked.

She was bright, intelligent, fearless. She was also an over-protective brother's worst nightmare because was a constant media sweetheart. Young, viviacious, politically ambitious, and willing to put her life at risk...oh the media loved her and so did the men. She'd been popular ever since the Revolution when she showed her diplomatic prowess by convincing disaffected and disgruntled Togovians to join the Catawaban Rebels. She helped make Catawabans an actual people.

Then she'd been captured by the Togovians for treachery, tortured, and probably scheduled for execution. Even though suspicion was now on Maxmillian, he'd risked it all to get word to Errant and begged his hated bastard son to rescue Rea. Errant would always think Maxmillian Vipe was a worthless bastard that deserved death a lot more than most, but Max did love Rea more than anything. It was the only thing in common between father and son, and the only way Errant knew he wasn't being drawn into a trap.

He'd lead a small team of Taung, former Togovian Marines, and Catawaban rebels including now Major Margret Dalaeni into the Togovian military prison outside of Shelbyville. Maxmillian really pulled strings because the whole operation was easy. The Togovians were farcical in their resistance. They not only freed Rea but a lot of political prisoners, rebels, and just average Catawabans.

It was a coup. It was also where Rea had gotten another boost in popularity. On the way out, the Togovians finally woke up. Advancing along the road and field outside the prison, they'd opened up with a light machine gun, a Squad Automatic Weapon. His team had been pinned down with the Togovian moving along the field to the side of the road. Errant had been looking for a way to flank them and get out of there, when Rea seized his sidearm and rushed up from behind cover.

Calm as you can be she ran towards the Togovian machine gunner. He never did figure out what made the guy stop firing, but Errant did know that the two rounds she put into his throat prevented him from starting again. His team had stopped firing in sheer awe for her gungho attitude. Rea reached the guy's still sputtering corpse and hauled up his SAW. Now she is a small little thing, and that gun is huge. However it didn't phase her a bit, she was screaming like the Echoy'la Dala, the Taung's legendary wailing phantasm that predicted death and doom. The gun position that had been allowing the Togovians to advance was now in a perfect position for enfilading fire all down their line. By the time the SAW clicked as it ran out of ammo and Rea stopped screaming, the Togovians had been cut down

Afterwards, they'd evacuated back to a rebel staging point. They'd given her a rifle and a sidearm, weapons she could better handle. However she hadn't given up that SAW. Someone had taken a picture of Rea sitting there with a confidant smile, festooned with weapons and clutching that SAW. The story of the prison break and Rea's escape spread all through the country. Then someone blew up that picture of Rea and made a poster captioned "I've done my part. Have you done yours, boys?" Rebel recruitment went way up the next month, and so did Rea's status as an elligible bachelorette as well Errant's brotherly headaches.

Errant smiled. It was nice to get his mind off the present for a while. Rea raised an eyebrow. "Feeling better, Err?"

Errant shook his head, and his smile died. "Won't feel better until Starkey and our people are back in port. The grumbling against the 'Jingoist Alliance'..."

"Catchy title for the otherside of the Fabian Conflict."

Errant rolled his eyes. "Yeah, doesn't help even if I like it. The people want to do more. Fifty-six sailors are dead including a heroic captain...all of which I've got to create heroic medals for. There's boycotts on products from the Jingoist Alliance, not that we import anything from them. The people are using Jingoist nationalities like they were were synonyms for the Devil and all his evil.'

Rea nodded. "Can't forget the mob outside CFN building."

Errant groaned. "How can I? Not that I like the Catawaban Fairness Wonks calling me a 'warmongering butcher' or didn't appreciate the public support shown by the mob...that I had to go down there with a platoon of Catawaban Marines to back up the Graceland PD and ask them politely to go home."

Rea held her glass out for Errant to refill it. "Which they did and the Catawaban News Network heralded your fairness and support for the freedom for the press even if 'it spreads libelous falsehoods like they written by God himself.' Not bad writing."

Errant snorted as he poured the thick wine into Rea's glass. "Wouldn't surprise me one gorram bit if Lolimba had a hand in that. But she's usually got a finger pointed in the right direction...including a military build up, which of course Tom is all up for."

Rea smirked and sipped from her glass. "You think that the General Secretary of the War Office is going to say anything else? Especially when he's been getting 'Lesson Learned" reports from every branch that outlines their wishlist so they don't feel so hung out in the wind next time."

Errant stopped and stared out towards the window. "Next time...next time...that's going to be bitch, darlin', but there'll be a next time for sure."

The Armed Republic of Catawaba
An Encrypted Diplomatic Communication from the Alpha Miraade, Jedith Errant
A Message for the Eyes of Sinjin, Lord Kincannon ONLY
Milord,

It is a grave situation that befalls both of our countries. My prayers and the prayers of all of Catawaba are with your fleet as I hope yours are with our fleet. I have come to the realization that no matter the outcome, diplomacy must win out. It will be even more necessary should things turn out for the worst.

Please send your aircraft. I apologize for not having anyone to equal the stature of your queen, but Colonel Matthew Quigley will be the lead delegate in any talks in Saint Fabian. He is a man of many talents. Fairness, wisdom, and good instincts are chief among them. With our sad lack of trained diplomats, he is the best we can spare.

From my heavy heart,
Jedith Errant
Alpha Miraade

The Monarch's Personal Music… (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mr62DS3ZBKg)

The intended response had had to wait, for the news of the attack by Red Tide2, then their inexplicable retreat…The Tanaarans, Romandeos, and worst of all the Catawabans...Used as a red flag, a provocateur so that those Tanaara had trusted could instigate their own invasion, and then the turn about…

The Hypersonic Transport (http://www.atddm.com/hst11.jpg), was no slender needle of an airplane but it alit with an odd metallic grace, the engines already in reverse to slow it to earth bound speeds. The Butterflies (http://www.atddm.com/tanfighter3.jpg) and FireDarts (http://www.atddm.com/tanfigter2.jpg) that had accompanied it on it’s trek across the face of the heavens spiraled up and away, regrouping and heading toward the fleet that limped slowly towards the Catawaban homeport.

The Air Traffic Control at Air Force Base Vipe just outside of Neshoba, Catawaba had been advised that the HST had integral stairs, and the stewards - yes it did take two hefty men and electric motors, but no Command Carrier would pull up to a air terminal - deployed them immediately. Two discretely obvious security types stepped out and gave the world about them a thoroughly observant once over. Moving with lithe quickness the female of the pair descended the stairs and peeled off to one side; followed a preset moment later by her partner. He jinked to the other side his moves mirroring hers in the well-rehearsed passé de observe of long time professionals. Constantly roving eyes and minds that missed nothing and correlated it all on the move. But they managed, with that same professionalism, to disappear from the consciousness of those who waited below.

A very tall man, he had to stand at least six foot ten, and despite the generous sizing of the transport’s door had to duck ever so slightly. His suit was very well tailored but not of very formal styling.. He was Doctor Sir Daveed Arial Roth (http://www.atddm.com/sirdaveed.jpg), physician and Tenerezu Tanaara stepped out next, then half turned back to offer his arm to the woman that appeared in the door behind him.

The Catawabians knew that Her Majesty, Queen Mercedez Merrideath Hexx (http://www.atddm.com/TanRoy.htm) of Tanaara was over sixty years old but she certainly didn’t look it. Her bright golden blonde hair was not upswept and confined, but tousled lightly in the faint breeze, and her heather blue eyes looked keenly about with obvious pleasure and interest at those awaiting her. She was tall for a woman; in stylish but low-heeled shoes she was close to five eleven. The tailored suit she wore fit her perfectly and whispered her statuesque build rather than shouting it.

Both Tanaarans moved lightly with athletic grace -the stairs were designed to be wide enough for them to descend side by side. As they came down the stirs her eyes locked with those of Jedith Errant, and her lips turned upward in a smile that brought her dimples out in full force. Clearing the last step, Daveed deftly let Mercy slide her arm out of his and glide on alone. It was a maneuver reminiscent of that of a falconer launching his charge, but a gentler more civilized move perfectly suited for this particular lady.

There was nothing challenging in her face, eyes or movements, but there was nothing overly deferential either.

This was a woman that had helmed, lead, ruled and herded her nation alone for over twenty years. Her reign had started in war -when her well loved predecessor had died during the decades long Dark War that had consumed the Fatal Terrain region -but it would end in peace, or so she intended. Mercy had become uneasily accustomed to nearly absolute power, wielded in a nation where the populace was not only armed, but also well trained in the use of those arms, and willing to show their displeasure, or disagreement, openly. They had trusted her and she had yet to let them down, even at this sad time, with the worse loss of life since the Dark War..

Mercedez Merrideath Hexx had been raised an orphan, only as an adult being recognized as one of missing heirs to one of the greatest families in Tanaara, or so read her dossier. A graduate of the Tanaaran Military Academy with a Masters in Intellegence, she had played a little known but pivotal role attempted the Saphire Coupe. When Tanaara had voted to become a near dictatorship of a monarchy she had been the first Monarch’s, Holli Golightly, pick as heir. It was a role and a destiny she had never been happy with but had ever striven to be the best for her people she could be.

The force of her personality was often missed, hidden behind the more flamboyant ones of some of her top ministers. It was their doings that far more often caught the public eye, and she preferred it that way. She worked long, often eighteen-hour days, and didn’t want any more intrusion in to her life, public or private, than she already had to contend with.

But now she turned it loose on Jedith Errant, not to overwhelm him, but because she already liked him and was simply delighted to be in Catawaba.

Air Force Base Vipe
Neshoba, Catawaba

A crowd of cheering Catawabans stood behind a ceremonial perimeter of Catawaban Marines. Though they were excited by the arrival of the Tanaaran HST, the crowd had enough respect for the Marines, and their rifles, to not encroach upon the soldiers. As the HST taxied to a stop in the area AFB Vipe's Air Traffic Controllers would have designated for them, a platoon Marines rushed forward in column. The foremost Marines in the column bore a furled red carpet on a spear used like spindle. As they double-timed towards the Taraan aircraft, the rearmost Marines stopped and stepped down on the edge of the carpet before them, anchoring the carpet so it spun off the spear neatly.

When they reached a few paces from the curved hull of the HST, the red carpet paid out and fell from the spindle. The second to last two marines slid their boots along the edge as they came to a halting attention to smooth out the end. The very last two marines were a massive sargeant who brought the ceremonial Taung hunting spear to his shoulder and held the long polearm motionless and the other was short female with a major's oak levels on her lapel. She drew a short cutlass from her side, a thick chopping weapon based on the traditional Taung kad. She glanced down her lines and then came to attention. "Marines! Present...ARMS!"

The Marines in their scarlet tunics and white trousers snapped to attention, offering their bullpup assualt rifles out in salute. The Marines' Modular Offensive Rifles where held out vertically with triggers and magazines presented toward the carpet. After that action, the Marines were figures wrought in stone. Their belted tunics displayed a few medals for bravery that the government had already created from the Revolution. Their black forage caps were perched atop their heads, shading their still eyes as the stared straight ahead. Major Schiller, satisfied that her Marines were keeping up the Catawaban end, nodded slightly so as not to disturb the black officer's beret she wore and then jerked her kad up in salute.

As the Queen and her entourage appeared in the hatchway of their HST, the Catawaban crowd went wild. Cheers and the occasional "Haaaaroooo!" of a Vornskrari hunting howl greeted the Tanaaran's appearance. Just as any member of the so-called "Jingoist Alliance" was a synonym for all that was evil in the world, Tanaarans and any nation that had stood with Catawaba could interchangeably used as great compliment. More than a few people were using the term 'Tanaaran' to describe a romantic view of ancient monarchies that the Catawaba had missed out on with the Togovians in power.

Barely heard over the cheering was a thrown together band of any skilled musician that could be scrounged from around the country. They played the Tanaaran anthem (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScuPJOg2Igs&feature=related) with gusto, if not much skill.

The Alpha Miraade Jedith Errant stood at the other end of the twin lines of Marines. He stood at attention in a Marine's scarlet uniform with a NCO's forage cap. On his sleeves were a sargeant's three stripes but instead of the rockers underneath the stripes was the Catawaban Skull on Heart. He'd had option to take the uniform of an officer since he was commander-in-chief, but he turned that down.

Even as Alpha Miraade he was no better than any other man or woman, and Catawabans took great pride in national service. A Catawaban was proud of what he or she worked to earn. For Errant to jump from a staff sargeant to a general seemed wrong to him. It wasn't like others in the military who'd moved up in the ranks for the merit of their service.

He glanced to his right to where General Tom Waverly and Colonel Matthew Quigley stood in the Air Force dress uniforms of a belted dark blue jacket and light blue trousers and a floppy campaign cap. Both of those men had been officers before the Revolution and worked hard since to put the Air Force into something that could hold Catawaba's skies. As if to support their toil, a flight of F-17 Vipers roared overhead. Callsign "Handmaiden Flight," these F-17 pilots had escorted the Tanaaran HST to AFB Vipe and remained overhead in a Combat Air Patrol.

Errant leaned forward onto the balls of his feet and saw that Marine General Ralla Fyatt stood her Marine scarlett and black beret. Her dark Taung complextion, that many foriegns mistaked for Polynesian or Maori, did nothing but accentuate the hard demeanor that she showed in her command of the Catawaban Marines. She'd been his commander once and a damned good one, still was.

Errant missed not having a naval representative in this line, but all his officers were at sea, where he supposed they belonged. All he'd ordered his remaining ships, one cruiser, a frigate, a destroyers, and fifteen patrol craft, to put to sea to guard the coasts and recieve and support the allied fleets as they returned.

He rocked onto his heels and glanced left. There were his civilian officials and Secretaries. Rea stood at his elbow as family and a Catawaba diplomat. She wore a simple green dress that set off her auburn hair and complimented not only her emerald eyes but the green sling that held her cast. Beyond Rea, stood Lolimba Bevu, dressed in a traditional Taung blouse and skirt that bared the midriff and covered it all up with a long cloth shawl wrapped around her body. Lolimba stood arm in arm with her nephew, in Marine scarlets, who described the events to his blind aunt.

Beyond Bevu was Ashley Petry, the Catawaba Secretary for Education, and Dr. Andrew Mickelson, the Secretary for Agriculture. Mrs. Petry was awe-struck and clapping happily in a dress thirty years out of fashion. While Mrs. Petry was cackling happily about how she wished the children could see a real monarch, Dr. Mickelson stood slouched in his scholarly tweed, unhappy that he was out in the sun when so much paper work to go over about next year's tomato crop. It would be vital, just vital! The entire Catawaba Pizza Delivery Industry depended on it!

Errant turned his attention back to the Tanaarans. God, he felt shoddy now. The Queen, Mercedez Merrideath Hexx, definitely looked the part of ruler. He frowned noting the silence that was starting reign over the tarmac. He glanced to his left and right again and noted that the crowd had quieted. He peeked over his shoulder and saw his Miraade Guard in full combat loadout and BDUs weren't keying to anything suspicious. He looked back to his right and zeroed in on Matthew. His eyes were wide, jaw slightly open. Errant followed his line of sight and saw that Matthew was focused on the Queen.

As was everyone else he found when glanced to his left and saw that even the blind Lolimba had her sightless milky eyes following the Queen. Errant had to hand it to Queen Mercedez. She sure had the kind of personal magnetism that turned his head. He felt a chill down run up his spine as she turned her full attention on him. Yep, she had personal magnetism or the other major alteration his Marine uniform for his Miraade status, a kilt-like garment patterned after the Taung hunting kama, was a bad idea on open tarmac.

With wind-cooled knees, a dry throat, and a pessimistic view of his own qualities, he took in a deep breath. With a deep breath into his sargeant's lung, Errant spoke loudly so as to be heard by the crowd without amplification which was in short supply in country. "Your Majesty, Queen Mercedez Merrideath Hexx, of the Domination of Tanaara, it is my distinct honor and personal pleasure to welcome you on behalf of the Armed Republic of Catawaba!"

Errant paused a moment for cheers and hunting howls before beginning again. "Even with the great sadness that has befallen our peoples from the losses incurred in the waters off the blighted shore of Saint Fabian, I cannot help but being grateful as well. In the first incursion we Catawabans have made outside our tranquil territory out onto the world stage, I cannot thank the powers that be enough that we were fortunate enough to find a hand extended in friendship, a hand that guarded the same principles that we have shed so much blood and tears for."

Errant took a deep breath. "The Tanaarans in their graciousness and admirable conduct have proved themselves good friends and stalward allies to the Catawaban people. However, even more ringing is the vote of confidence given Tanaara and the rest of the nations that suffered the Red Tide missile storm. That a Catawaban would expend ammunition in defense of other free peoples is only the duty we expect of ourselves, but to place not only their ships but their lives into harm's way in order to best protect the lives of Tanaarans and Romandeans?"

"To act so selflessly at ultimate peril to themselves is the surest sign they can give as to the quality of the people of Tanaara and Romandeos. It is that spirit so we do not place the lives lost in vain, that I welcome you, Your Majesty. From our hearts, we welcome you!" Another greet cry and chorus of hunting howls went from the crowd and even a few from the Marines forming the ceremonial perimeter before the crowd. As if to voice their agreement, Handmaiden Flight performed a split-S and roared back over the tarmac, waggling their wing before taking back off for the cloudy skies.

This was what made it all worth while, kept her on the throne for over twenty long, mortal hard years, this was what more than anything else she lived for now...To hear the praise for her people, for those she served. Mercy blinked hard, suddenly fighing back tears, and was glad of the need to wait a moment until the volley of cheers and applause died down.

"How can I, on not only my behalf but my nation's, my people's behalf, begin to thank a nation, and the people, who have given birth to such selflessness, such courage? To meet and befriend such worthy people is worth the sacrifice, so those that paid the price tell me, as they stand now as part of the Wall."

Her voice was that of a trained Orator, reaching every one without raising it to any significant degree. It hadn't been easy, she'd been desperately shy as a child, and that shyness made worse by the malformed heart that left her lonely and perpetually gasping for breath on the sidelines of a country that revelled in physical health. As a ward of the state she recieved good medical care, that was a given, but a transplant much less a cloned heart was out of the question. It had taken an inadvertant meeting with the twin she never knew she had...

'"The Wall..." Her voice went reverent and soft, the sort of tone that made others lean forward to hear it, kept them transfixed ..."is perhpas not uniquely Tanaaran, but our execution of it is completely Tanaaran...The Wall's foundations rise from deep in the bedrock, fixed, adamant...soaring up from the eath to reach, forever for the heavens.. A Corundum out cropping...That was split by the spring we founded Montgard about...life giving water the only thing that could wear away at it. And on it's face we have inscribed all who have earned the honor of being part of not only our foundation, but our protection, our Shield"

"Every one who has died, or fought with honour, for Tanaara is listed here. Today it bears new names, including those who have a special inscription above their names They stayed in our hour of need, the cost unweighed. All honour to these, brothers and sisters of our soul"..."

With precission she turned pivoted to face the colours, the scarlet Heart and ebon Skull against the brilliant white field, that the Catawaban Honor guard carried - gave and held a crisp salute. She had graduated from the Military and held a commission even if it had been a conditional one, a Staff only, never commanding in the field...

Then she turned back to Jedith and the other official's there to greet her. "I am the one honored, to be here, to meet you and all the great people of Catawaba. I hope that this friendship, born in blood shall last as long as Earth, Wind, Rain and the untimate Fire endures."

Gorram it, Errant thought. He liked the Queen more and more every time. He'd spent most of the morning and the whole time he'd been standing here coming up with what he wanted to say. She gets floored and misty-eyed and she could still out do him.

They couldn't be more different people and yet have some of the same qualities and backgrounds. They were both orphans, but, as Errant understood it, the Tanaaran system for child welfare was a great deal more compassionate than the Togovian system. He'd been taken from his Taung mother because he was too light skinned to be pure Taung, which was true his father, a Togovian, had raped his mother. He'd found out much later that they'd proceeded to arrest her for his supposed kidnapping and she'd died in a penal work camp when he was eight.

He'd grown up in orphanage better described as a tenement. At the age of eighteen after falling in with a street gang and getting caught by Togovian constables, he'd been given the obvious choice of joining the Togovian Colonial Marines or getting sentenced to a work camp. He'd enlisted immediately, exclaiming his nationalist pride in his Togovian heritage.

The Marines had actually been a blessing in disguise. Errant had little doubt that as a criminal he'd have ended up dead. The Marines had focused a wild, youth into a good soldier and helped make up for the deficiencies in his learning and intelligence. His commander, the now General Ralla Fyatt, had recognized the rare ability to lead soldiers and the willingess to not send his men to do anything he wouldn't do himself. She honed those abilities and challenged him. She knew he was perhaps not the most intelligent Marine, but he was clever and he did have an excellent judge of character. Errant drew on the strengths of his squadmembers and didn't tolerate loafers. He did his best to lure away any skilled Marine he could find into his squad.

Fyatt allowed him to wheel and deal with personnel because she saw an asset in the squad Errant was forming. Once favorable progress reports came in on his squad, Fyatt had Errant's squad assigned to Contraband Interdiction Inspections against any smugglers that were mainly trying to smuggle in weapons to the Catawaba rebels.

That was always a sore point with him. He'd done the Catawaban cause a lot of harm in catching those smugglers. Though it seemed the Catawaban people didn't seem to hold it against him too much, especially after the whole "Harrison Mayhew, Ship of Destiny" incident.

One smuggling freighter, a few contraband MANPADs and anti-tank rockets, a nasty firefight with the smugglers, a propaganda ceremony to reward his squad later, Errant had found hhimself faced with his father and mother's rapist, one Maxmillian Vipe, who then proceeded to scuttle Errant's career faster than smuggler ship with its cover blown. That had only been the been the first step on Errant's road to rebellion. It was a long, ugly road that wasn't as noble as most of Catawaba's journalists like to make out. He wasn't proud of how he got involved with the Revolution but was proud that he'd eventually gotten this nation freed.

They were both orphans, rebels, and took the same hard stances when it came governing a nation, but the differences were there. She was a noble, cultured, educated. He was a common Marine with an education amounting to hardknocks, boot camp, and whatever a kindly old librarian had been able to shoehorn in. He thought of himself as a rough steward for Catawaba, someone to hold the wolves at bay long enough for the nation to get on its feet.

He was just a man, no greater than any other in this landm just one who was willing to say, "Follow me." Errant was sure that must be the case because was sure they hadn't elected him for his speaking ability. Or his ability to keep his mind from wandering during a ceremony....as Rea so highlighted.

Rea jabbed at his ankle with the point of her low-helled shoe to snap him out of it, while smiling to Queen Mercedez. "Your Majesty, I think your show of gratitude has left our Miraade speechless. We are honored to have the names of our service personnel enshrined in the hallowed places of Tanaara. And I, though I can only speak for myself, hope that the friendship between our peoples last longer than any element of earth or sky."

Errant snapped out of his retrospective haze quickly with a small start that gathered a chuckle from those in the crowd close enough to see. No, Catawaba had not chosen their Miraade for his polish but more because he wasn't polished. Their Togovian viceroy had been polished and that lead to a natural suspicion of that type of politician.

It was also the height of Catawaban custom, borrowed from the Taung, that those in power be rediculed so they remembered their place was servants to the people. And Errant knew he was going to be hearing about this one for a while. He cleared his throat, trying to come up with something. All that came to him was business because he was out of flourishes and courtly things to say. "Your Majesty, ma'am, I know that we had first intended this meeting to be the first step in a mission to try to settle 'the Fabian Conflict,' but with things as they are...that, well, looks sorta unlikely. Your fleets and all the others that faced the Red Tide salvoes are certainly welcome in our ports for rest and repair. Our airfields will accept any and all aircraft that can land at them. Our hospitals and infirmaries are thrown open to the care of the wounded."

"Finally, I would be wrong to not extend the hospitality of the Catawaban people in offering you and yours a place in the People's House that they allow me to reside in." The People's House was not just a name. The former Viceroy's palace was property of the people in which they allowed the Miraade and his administration to reside. They could with a popular vote have him ousted from the House, furthering the custom of keeping those in power reminded of their place. Although Errant supposed, he'd have to do something really stupid to get the people aggravated enough to just kick him out on the street before they actually impreached him from office.

Your Majesty, I think your show of gratitude has left our Miraade speechless. We are honored to have the names of our service personnel enshrined in the hallowed places of Tanaara. And I, though I can only speak for myself, hope that the friendship between our peoples last longer than any element of earth or sky."

"As do I Miss Vipe, as do I" Mercy siad softly in reply, giving the Miraade's half sister as warm smile. She knew just how trying such public activities could be. It had taken years for her not to be sweaty palmed and knock kneed. And the old trick of imagining people naked didn't work. Often as much as half the onlookers had been nude.

"Finally, I would be wrong to not extend the hospitality of the Catawaban people in offering you and yours a place in the People's House that they allow me to reside in."

"Alpha Miraade Errant, I'd be honored to be your guest, and I thank you for your hospitality towards both myself and those soon to arrive. I can not dream of a warmer, welcome than the one you have vouchsafed us." And the look of gratitude in her eyse was real and heartfelt. He could see that the welcome for her people meant far more to her than any welcome toward herself.

She knew that he was thinking of a way to close this out gracefully and leant forward ever so slightly, pitching her voice to him alone "And I'd adore a chance to get these heels off. I see a shinned till it gleams hmmvv over there with I think your name on it. Why don't you offer me your arm, we can stride purposefully over there and have some privacy to talk about how close both of us came to being in that bedamned bunker."

Errant wanted to lean over and kiss the Queen, but he was sure that'd start soemthing with the Catawaban Fairness Network, probably something along the lines of "Warmongering Miraade Throws Away Catawaban Lives for Affair with Tanaaran Hussy."

He leaned forward, and his smile changed into a lopsided grin. "Thank God one of us knows what we're doing. Frankly, this kama is the cruelest thing Catawaba has done to me." Errant straightened and turned open to the crowd.

He cleared his throat loudly to silence some of those near him. Cries of "Quiet" and "Shut up! The Miraade's gonna speak" rippled back through the crowd. He took in another deep breath to bellow out over the crowd. "Catawabans, I thank y'all for coming out. You've done your part to welcome our good friends the Tanaarans. Now go home, the lot of you! I'm sure you have better things to do than admire my knees. If not, I can find you something to do. Remember I've still got departments to fill! And the next name could be yours! Dis-MISSED!"

He smiled warmly as that got a bit of a laugh out of the crowd. They did generally begin dispersing. It was an odd give and take between him and his people. They made fun of him, which was customary, and he was supposed to have the good humor to take it, make fun himself, and poke fun at them. Good humor was treated as a high quality amongst Catawaban leadership potental.

He turned to back to his officers and secretaries. "That means you too. I maybe have roped you all in already, but I know y'all've got something to do." They all nodded and started to go their own ways. The military brass were hurrying off towards their own HMMWVs, aides already descending on them with updates as to the readiness of their branches to recieve and support the fleets.

The civilians went most disjointedly. Dr. Mickelson was shuffling off, wringing his hands about the tomato crop. Rea saw Mrs. Petry closing in on Queen Mercedez and excused herself from Errant's side quickly. The petite redhead intercepted the kindly, old librarian and began distracting Mrs. Petry with stories that she'd love to tell the children about Cookesland.

Lolimba Bevu stood patiently with her nephew, waiting. She knew she would speak with the Queen and the Miraade later, and while she was blind she could easily overhear the two ruler's hushed conversation. Errant nodded as the Marine honor guard began rolling up the red carpet.

He turned to face his...well the People's HMMWV and offered the Queen an arm. "This way, ma'am. To the shiny, olive drabness of the People's Hum-Vee which may not have my name on it, but has the skull on heart big enough that my name need not be writ on it to figure who usually rides in it."

His six person Miraade Guard closed in semi circle around him, leaving room for Tanaaran guards to cover the Queen's side. The Guard wasn't usually in full gear or this tense, but Saint Fabian the nearest thing to open hostilities since the Revolution. Just Errant was obligated to wear military uniforms out in public during times of hostility, the Miraade Guard was required to be in full gear during such times. Errant spared a glanced over the squad of Marines around him. They were during it all by the numbers at least from what training he got on security details.

He smiled to Mercedez as the drivers of the small convoy of HMMWVs started to drive towards the dignitaries. "I'll have to apologize for not having something more...glamorous, ma'am. During the revolution, we torched all the limos we could find and blew up just about every luxury car in the country just to get back at the Togovian nobles. This is about the nicest thing left to me without requisitioning citizen's vehicles."

"Ah but it shows off a perfectly splended pair of male legs. To deny the ladies of Catawaba and the world such a sight would be the real cruelity." Her tease was gentle. Appearances meant nothing against the person that wore them but the Alpha Miraade was as handsome outside as his heart was inside.

The Tanaaran Security Detail surprizingly consisted soley of the two that had been the first off the HST..and of course Daveed, who joined them as the crowd began to disperse. The detail had no difficulties with letting th Catawaban Miraade Guard do thier job and slid on discretely in the spots left open.

"I'll have to apologize for not having something more...glamorous, ma'am. During the revolution, we torched all the limos we could find and blew up just about every luxury car in the country just to get back at the Togovian This is about the nicest thing left to me without requisitioning citizen's vehicles."

"Good for you. Nobles that aren't noble at all deserve such." The Domination's few nobles had all earned their titles, and she and the rest of the Tanaarans made sure they kept earning them. Working nobility was the term used, and she was the example they all had to follow.

"How about that since we could have both been dead over our from-the-heart-instinct to help others, we call each other what friends do. Hi Jedith, I'm Mercy." Mercy knew she'd be more comfortable with that, and guessed that he might too.

"I don't mind riding in them at all. Fast cars are a weakness of mine but they're just my manner of blowing off steam. Daveed thinks I should take up someting less risky but he's an old worrywart." But her eyes went sad for a moment.

The dossier that the Tanaarans had so helpfully supplied the Catawabans with mentioned that her first fiancee, Justin Falkenberg, had been killed in an assassination attempt on her while she was the Crown Princess. He had been driving the car instead of her, a last minute request by him... Mercedez Merrideath Hexx had loved three men in her life. Robert Francis Fortier of Imitora, father of her son; Justin Falkenberg, and His Grace, Duke Izanami, Lord Raven Helstrom of the Tanaran Empire...and all three men had been assassinated, two of them by traitors within her own government. No longer though whould she risk being the death of another. She no longer asked any one to even act as an escort to ahn event or function, despite her enduring status as one of the Fatal Terrain Region's "Most Eligible'.

She waved Daveed over and introduced him, her eyes clear once more "Jedith, this is Daveed, one of the voice's of my people. His advice has never been wrong. And I know that he is very much wanting to meet your most esteemed Madam Bevu."

"I am very pleased to meet you Miraade Errant, and yes I very much would appreciate an introduction." Daveed was built in proper porportion, it wasn't until he was up close did one realized that he was all but seven foot tall and built like a living copy of Michaelangelo's David. "We dispensers of good advice need to keep the union strong" Any could realise that he had every bit of respect for his Queen no matter how he spoke with the ease of an old and valued friend and councilor. Though he did not look it, any more than she did, he was thirty years her senior- and had known her for fully thiry years - and while it was unspoken considered her a much one of his daughters as his own.

Errant blushed at the comment about his legs and cleared his throat to cover the pause before answering as he looked away for a moment. He looked back still a little red in the cheeks. He nodded to Daveed. "It's good to meet you. Lolimba should be right behind us."

He smiled over and up slightly at Mercedez. "Well, Mercy, call me Errant. It's my real, Taung, name and what I prefer. My mother gave me the name Errant, and I would have taken my clan's name when I proved myself a true Taung at eighteen. Jedith was something picked for me by the Togovian Social Services." He rolled his eyes. "They even got my name out or order. Errant should be my first name. I just don't care enough to go about changing it."

Lolimba pushed on her nephew's arm to get him to speed up and catch up with the others. She pulled back on his elbow when she heard she was level with Daveed. He had an interesting gait, old, yet young, big without any clumsiness. She turned her head towards Daveed, most people appreciated if you looked at them when you spoke even if there was no sight to make eye contact with. It was just an odd thing she'd noticed over the years of visual darkness. "The real reason being that his clan name is mine, Bevu. And I didn't want anyone thinking he was too partial to any one side."

"Or more under your control than I actually am." Errant commented in a joking, faux innocent tone.

They even got my name out or order. Errant should be my first name. I just don't care enough to go about changing it."

"Mine was given to me pretty much the same way, a roll of the computers dice got me a first and second name that began with the same letter. I didn't have a surname until I was recognised and adopted by the Hexx's after DNA matching came into play." She didn't mention more, about the mirror twin she had to kill - the one that had found her her, recognised her behind the frail sickly young woman that she had been, before her transformation due to the strong heart that pumped in her chest now. Not just a transplant but at the time incredibly expensive cloned heart.

"Errant then, and given various things I think that makes you a Knight Errant." Mercy joshed. She could see him in slightly battered, off white armor. He'd carry it well she'd guess, but doubted if he'd ever been on a horse.

"Or more under your control than I actually am."

"The old ride herd on us young folk and thats all to the good." Mercy laughed as he assissted her into the HMMWV. "The weight of their experience slowing our impulsiveness down to allow us to think twice."

Daveed smiled down at Madame Lolimba, knowing that she would hear it inhis voice "But when he has such magnificant council, I don't think it bothers him greatly." Gently he took her hand and bowed over it, and she would have the knowing that - should she wish it - she could see through his eyes.

Errant helped Mercy into the HMMWV, closing her door firmly before going around the other side to get it. He opened his door and went to step up into the vehicle when he heard one of the Marine clear her throat. He glanced back at the short female Marine in his Guard. "Yes, Corporal Salva?"

Corporal Salva's eyes glanced towards Errant's kama. "Sir, if you step up like that, the Queen's going to see under it, sir."

Errant lowered his leg and looked down at the kama. He was going to have to have this thing made longer or add a running board to every vehicle he used. "Thank you, Corporal."

"No thanks need, sir. We'd hate to see an international incident started because of your cartoon vornskrari scivvies, sir." Salva added in a very hushed tone.

Errant sighed as he placed a hand on the door and then top of the HMMWV and lifted himself up slightly so he wouldn't have to raise his leg so high to get it. Errant had long ago stated that as Catawaba industry came on line, he would only buy Catawaban, in a bid to urge others to do so as well. Ever since Tolman Clothing had announced the first line of domestically-manufactured underwear, incidently printed with cartoon vornskraris, everyone had a good idea what sort of underwear he was wearing at the moment. It was embarrassing, but he reassured himself it was for the good of the country.

He slid into the vehicle and scouted in beside Mercy, closing his door behind him. Corporal Salva took the passenger seat and nodded to the driver. Errant smiled over at Mercy. "You know you wouldn't be the first person to come up with that 'Knight Errant' line. You should see every political comic made nowadays and every poster we made during the Revolution."

He shook his head. "Some put me on a horse with the whole armor get up...very Don Quixote, but please I've never been on a horse in my life. More often I was still in that Euro armor or in Taung bezerker armor with my steed as a brilliant white Hum-Vee. Actually..." He reached up and thumped his palm on the hull of the vehicle they were seated in. "this Hum-Vee was the one I used all through the war."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba did know that of the Tanaaran's abilities as much as the scant information she'd been able to glean had told her. Though she chose not to ask for the privilege. She was so used to being blind that it did not bother her. Being blind since she was young woman, she had developed her other senses to fill the gap left by her sight and honed her mind to look deeper than eyes could ever see. Some said the loss of her eyesight gave her a sight beyond any mortals could hope to see, a sense beyond space and time. Lolimba liked spreading rumors like that.

She smiled graciously at Daveed. "You are too kind, sir, too kind. I know that, dear Jedith, would not mind. He would not want to disappoint his aunt."

Her nephew leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Ah, my wonderful nephew informs me that my car is waiting, would you mind joining me, Doctor Roth?"

"this Hum-Vee was the one I used all through the war."


Mercy laughed comfortably "I rather figured it had already occured to some one, though I can't quiet see you in bright white... decidedly dinged and off white yes. No insult intended, but I have the feeling that when it comes to our nations we're both willing to get out hands dirtier than pristine pure allows for." Though it wasn't generaly spoken of Mercy had shot the last traitor to Tanaara herself, and she attended every execution.

Mercy fully believed that if it happened on your watch, you owed it to the victims to be there when justice was done. Crime was almost non existant in Tanaara, and her prisons were seldom full. But then again Tanaaran's didn't believe that imprisonment was punishment - hard labor, penal slavery, public pillory or other public punishment was the norm.

She changed the subject "Every time I think of how close we came to being in that bunker I get the willies. Something struck me as wrong from the first, but I kept telling myself to over look it. Both sides of that fiasco deserve just what they've gotten"

"The Society of the Mind is lieing through it's supposedly noblely minded teeth, the Wagdians, and Allaneans, and Brettons picking over that country like a vulture on a dead cow." Her face reflected how she felt, and for a second she couldn't find the words. And letting out a frustrated scream just wouldn't do.

So she did second best, she slid out of her shoes and wiggled her toes in relief. "Ahhh, much better. I love these shoes, but they don't fit quite right."

Ah, my wonderful nephew informs me that my car is waiting, would you mind joining me, Doctor Roth?"

Daveed accepted her declining with no disappointment. He understood where her refusal came from. "Yes I'd love to ride with you Madam Lolimba, and please call me Daveed"

Lolimba smiled. "I'll gladly call you Daveed as you can simply call me Lolimba."

Her large nephew lead her to the door of her HMMWV. He opened it and helped her in. He shut it gently behind her and jerked his head to indicate Daveed to follow him. The tall, silent Taung walked around to the other side of the vehicle and opened the door for the Tanaaran. As he held the door open, the aide/nephew watched Daveed like a guard dog.

~~~

Errant glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Mercy wiggle her toes on the warm metal floorboard. He leaned back and slouched down in his seat, careful to keep his kilt from hiking up. He smiled for a moment and then sighed, letting the smile melt away. "That bunker's been haunting me these past couple of days."

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Hell if that Kangaroo hadn't gone pear shaped Hayden Seigfried and my sister woulda been smack dab in the middle of that. Hayden's a good friend and a diplomat Catawaba can't afford to lose...but Rea..geez, I can't get the image of her big green eyes begging some Fabian bastard not to shoot..." Errant shuddered.

He glanced over at Mercy. "Then it was quickly gonna be you and me...and I would have died, I figure, and perhaps gotta you and others killed. I don't have the same kind of cold, audacity to sit there like the Wagdog Admiral did. Naw, I don't have that kind of courage...I'd just have had several concealed weapons..and that could have gotten ugly."

"I'll gladly call you Lolimba" Daveed replied as her towering guard nephew settled her in the waiting vehicle.

"Don't worry I shall treat her with the utmost respect young man. She will never have anything to fear from me." He reassured the young man as he climbed in to the other side.

As Errant shuddered, Mercy found herself turing to look at him, and patting his hand soothingly. She didn't want to think how she would have felt, say if it had been Madrigal, on of her most promising young diplomats, and the daughter of her closest advisors.

She demured over his assessment of the Wagdian admiral..

"If our dossier on her is correct, Admiral Feschina is a vampire, and I'd expect such cold brinkmanship from one. Not sure it's courage or the knowledge that it takes far more than..." She just shrugged. Vampires in Tanaara were quiet, responsible sorts who mostly planned for the long term. And ran blood banks.

"And I would have been armed as well as having Romeo and Juilet at my back...but no untill the guns swung our way they would not have gotten ugly, but the second they did..." She looked at him as said with careful coldness "Every one in that bunker who was not you, or I or our bodyguards would have been mind dead before they could have pulled the trigger."

Daveed had his oaths but neither Romeo or Juilet had taken such. Theirs lay solely with her.

Errant sat up straight and snapped his head around to Mercy. "VAMPIRE? Yer not kiddin'? Fangs and all?" Errant was entirely surprised. The Catawaban Intelligence Service certainly hadn't picked up on that one. Catawaba was devout nation of humans...well, at least they thought most of them were human.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba's nephew snorted and shut the door behind Daveed. He climbed into the passenger seat and leaned down to ensure his bullpup Modular Offensive Rifle was secure in the floor rack down next to his left ankle. He nodded to the driver.

Lolimba buckled herself in carefully and laid her hands daintly on her lap. "Don't mind Goran, Daveed. He is my brother's son and very protective."

~~~~

The remainder of the Miraade's Guard moved to the front and rear of the convoy to climb into lead and trailing HMMWVs. The commander of the Guard, Captain Ethan Geoffries, turned to the Queen's bodyguards. "Pardon me, folks. Didn't mean to forget y'all. I can give ya a spot in the rear of the Miraade's or the Foriegn Sec's Hum-Vees...a bit cramped in the rear cargo compartment. Or we got places in the lead vehicle or the tail one. What makes y'all feel most confortable?"

As they sped along, Mercy threw back her head and laughed at Errant's reaction. "Fully twenty six percent of all Tanaaran Citizens are other than PSH, about three percent of all Residents, and about two percent of visitros, resident aliens - and yes we do have some really alien aliens" She chuckled to herself at some of the beings she had met

"You are going to have to visit Tanaara." She bacame very serious in the blink of an eye "Errant, we aren't the easiest people to get along with. We have our own way of doing things, we hold the UN in utter distain, and we have no govermnet backes or sponsored network of social agencies to coddle people. Yes, we have a underclass, people who choose not to help thermselves, but the goverment doesn't lift a finger to help them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can understand his protectiveness, he has someone very valuable to protect." Daveed chucked, and his comment was not meant as flattery. "You have a lovely land here Lolimba." He looked out the window taking in the sights as they headed towards the People House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman of the pair had chuckled, "Oh no apology needed. It means we're doing our job. I'm Juilet, and this is Romeo, and it's purest coincidence on the names, but it makes for an interesting marriage." She smiled as she gave her husband a fond glance.

They had split up one riding in the lead, the other in the chase hummer.

((A bit retroactive..but...))

Moments before...

Captain Geoffries looked between the two Tanaarans, Romeo and Juliet. They were both deceptively capable and had the same coiled striking power like a vornskrari wound up to pounce that he looked for in his Guard troopers. He snorted, amused, and made for the lead vehicle. "Gotta make fer some interesting domestic disputes when they come..." Geoffries mumbled under his breath. His wife was a little ol'thing and she could still raise hell like a spitfire when he did the littlest thing.

Eager to get the Miraade back home so he could get home to his lovely spitfire, Geoffries signaled the convoy to start rolling. The four olive-drab HMMWVs sped down the taxi way and for the nearest gate. It was already fully open and the guards were standing at attention when the convoy roared out easily going seventy to eighty miles per hour.

~~~~~~

Lolimba turned her head courtesilously towards the windows even though she could not see. She knew what the Neshoba country side looked like or she remembered from when she was young woman. Her nephew regularly described the scenery to her if anything changed dramatically. Overall it was not a great concern to her as you might imagine. It was a small loss for she had loved the scenic panoramas of the Catawaban highlands where she had been born.

"The forests around Neshoba are lovely. Dogwoods and oaks mostly, as I remember. Goran, up front, has told me that the Togovians did great damage to those stands...but they are tough and even with the fighting that went on inside the forests, the Revolution was a rebirth for them because no logger would come in after them lest they find Catawabans."

She smiled. "These forests extend all the way up to the Highlands I so love. There the tall Sapah Mountains stop all the rain off the sea and deposit it there. It's nearly tropical."

~~~~~~~~~

Errant brought a hand up and rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced out the window at the trees as the rushed by. He looked back at the Queen. "I ain't got a problem with your policies, Mercy. Catawaba and Tanaara are lot alike just differences to the extent and severities in which we carry things. Sure, I keep Hayden chained up in the UN to keep him from running back home and so I can make him enforce a bit of sanity into that leviathan...but..."

He shrugged and brought his hand down from his neck. "Really...listenin' to ya. I can figure that Catawaba's a bit behind the times. We're more conservative, maybe prudish, than y'all on a bunch of points...public nudity just bein' one of them. And if ya can't tell from my reaction...I don't know what, if any, other types...kinds...of things...people might be in amongst our population. That's gonna be a shock when it gets out. We've had stories that no one believes...hell, I've got a story that no one believes and I don't tell it."

Mercy curled up on the seat, as limber as any teenageer, and looked wideeyed at Errant "You'll have to tell me some time. I'd believe. I've had some hard to believe events in my life, and more than one or two scared me near senseless."

"I don't consider you all backwards. Your culture is your culture and it moves at its own purposeful rate. Most all of our differences stem, I do believe, from the fact that we are not, and never have been a 'christian' nation. Our founders came from a seventeen hundred year old tradition that did not include christianity or any of its variants among it's various religions. Nor Islam, or Judaism....but we respect those of those religions that live them, not just spout them"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That sounds like the southern parts of Tanaara. We stretch north and south some five and a half thousand miles - double the east to west of the United States. And I'd love a chance to see the Highlands."

Errant smiled at Mercy. It was hard to place her as a Queen sometimes. As hard as it was to place him as some quasi-president, he supposed. "I'll tell ya that story later. I hate for it spread around the military and then the public and paint me as even more as the living avatar of Vistar himself." He shook his head. It was a popular joke, notion, or perhaps belief that he was somehow the living incarnation or avatar of Vistar, the father of the Taung pantheon.

Well as long as she was getting comfortable, he thought as he pushed his forager cap back on his head. He reached up unclasped the top button which held close the starched high color of the Marine tunic. Errant hated that top button with a passion only slightly less intense that his hatred for his kama. He breathed in and out deeply for a moment. "It's not the religion, Mercy. I know that most sects of the Abrahamic religions are more conservative than other belief systems...but it's not just that. I don't even blame it on the Togovians being largely Christian....it's just that as a vassal colony, Catawaba didn't progress any further than Togovia allowed."

"I'm lead to believe that progressive measures were enacted in Togovia that never made it here. They feared any erosion of control over the colonists, because not all, in fact most, non-Taungs in Catawaba were not Togovian." He shook his head. "It's messed up. I got a sense for some of it...but it wasn't spoken of before the Revolution. Since then sociologists, anthropologists...they've been bursting from the woodwork to explain what the Togovians surpressed."

Errant ground his teeth a bit as he tried to find words for things he didn't entirely understand just as yet even from all the ethnographies and reports he'd been reading. "It's...like a madhouse released sometimes. We have these freedoms, and we've never remotely had any thing like them before. We've known about them...read about them...had foreigners tell us we should have them. The problem is we've not dreamed we would realistically have them, ever. We fought mostly because we hated the Togovians."

Errant looked out the window. He didn't know why he was telling this to a foriegner, a virtual stranger a worst, an aquaintence at best, but she was a ruler with a nation basically like his own. His closest advisors, even Lolimba, couldn't entirely understand it all. "The worst crime the Togovians committed and the biggest handicap I've got to deal with is...Catawaba doesn't know how to dream."

He pounded his fist against his leg. "When I'm forming the government...it's really me forming the government. Sure, others are working at it, but I'm either reigning in the ambitious who are trying running wild or kicking those who are content to sit there like sheep. Under Togovian rule, we did what we were told. Now I've got to get people working towards one goal. Economically, I've got to encourage and jumpstart some industries...and others like Bard Gun Company I've got to keep from making insane things like their Collapsible Combat Ruler supposedly perfect for combat engineers, defense contractors, and primary school teachers!"

~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba nodded happily. "Catawaba is near tropical, being somewhat close the Tropic of Capricorn. I would love to visit the north of Tanaara...if it is cold as I guess it might be?"

OOC: placed in two threads to deal with cross-over issues
ARN Pentaci

Captain Reynolds was watching the last of the SAR operation wind down from the bridge. “Well the Waggians seem nice enough” He began to say before being interrupted by a seamen first class from the radio room.
“CSELM from NM, Priority Delta sir” She said as she handed him a small folder. The Captain turned, signed the release sheet and opened it.
Code: XLZ-724-9972
Security Level: Secret
Vrakian freighter Vrakian Hope located in Gordon Harbor with engine problems. Class I FKC Secure Mat on manifest.
Order: Secure Vessel/Cargo immediately
Futher Data: Report from shipping firm indicates loss of EC-131 board in motor control. Local electronic techs unable to repair. Unknown status of replacement.
“Damn it all to hell…coxswain, assemble the Major, the XO, the master chief and Lt. Davies in my wardroom ASAP”
“Aye,Aye Captain”

Wardroom, Twenty Minutes Later
“Alright people, you’ve heard the problem. We have a Vrakian freighter in port that is wounded with a cargo that we can not let fall into any of the hands of the locals or any of the invaders.”

Captain Reynolds turned from looking at the picture of the large freighter on the screen to his ‘team’

“Well, the engine isn’t a problem. That EC-131 board can be replaced by a AZ-978 which is what most people have done. And I have a few of them in stock…” Lieutenant Davies spoke first. She was the chief engineer aboard the Q ship and knew enough about merchies to make her a valuable asset to Fifth Fleet.”

“Good, now then assuming we transfer the Lieutenant here, how many Marines can we get onboard?”

“Nine…” The master sergeant stated dryly. We only have five Rosco’s…”

The engineer shook her head, “We need twenty bodies to get that thing out of that port with the antiquated support equipment.”

“Damn, normally we could just sail in right as rain and sail her out, but try that now and someone is likely going to fire on us. We could hold our own against most of the ships here but not entire taskforces and not with this much airborne hardware.”

“None of the crew is available?” The major asked.

“We can’t get hold of them, most of them were a mix from all over and likely bolted out on one of the hospital ships during the evacuation.”

The Executive Officer pushed forward, “Sir, you just reminded me. We caught some traffic between those hospital ships and a group of marines they abandoned at the airport.”

“Alright…” Reynolds stated not following where the XO was going.

“We can only get ten souls to the ship. But the Tanaarians have over a hundred that really want to leave it appears.”

“So we make a deal, get the Tanaarians off aboard the Vrakian Hope if they help us get her launched?”

“Aye sir…”

“But what about the Tanarians getting their hands on the cargo…” The Major asked.

“We get the Hope back out of the conflict zone and then load the Tanaarians onto flying boats to send them home.”

“We don’t need more than ten souls to sail her, just launch her from that backwards port.”

“Alright, XO put together a list of who’s getting to spend time underwater and play pirate…I guess I need to make a call to a Tanaarian and then Naval Manor.

To: Tanaarian Detatchment, Gordon Airport, Saint Fabian
From: United Duchies, Auxilary Cruiser ARN Pentaci.
Greetings, normally the United Duchies is not known for contacting forces in the field out of the blue, but perhaps we can assist each other. Am I correct in our intel reports that you have been ordered to evac Saint Fabian but do not have the transportation…over


To: Tanaara Government
From: Outer Ministry, United Duchies
Subject: Tanaara military forces in Saint Fabian.
Greeting and salutations,

The Government of the United Duchies has noted that you have a Marine contingent still occupying Saint Fabian territory as the invasion by Bretton forces occurs. It has also been suggested that you wish to remove these forces, but they lack transportation from the field.

The United Duchies, by request of her fellow Klatchian State of Vrak, will soon be removing a disabled Vrakian merchant vessel from the Port of Gordon. Our commander in the field has suggested that you might be willing to provided needed manpower to assist us for evacuation of your forces and personnel from Saint Fabian.
-Sir Brent Keole, Undersecretary for Maritime, Outer Ministry of the United Duchies.

"I'll hold you to that Errant." She murmured after he promised to tell her later.

Mercy started to laugh at his comment about the Bard Gun Company, then she stopped at looked at Errant very seriously "But is the Collapsible Combat Ruler basically unsafe, unsound? If not, them let them try, and learn the hard way if no one is interested."

"Just because it doen't make much sense to you, it is the result of someones dream, is it not?"

"And one goal for you nation...What do you want that goal to be" Mercy was still deadly serious, with a intense waitingness about her. How big will he himself dream? She wondered.

HM Queen Mercedez Merrideath Hexx had eighty nine trillion to pass along, if Catawaba proved worthy, and that was just fundage. She also had other incentives. All of it tangle free, pure gift with the sole cocidil of "Pass it along."

To: Tanaarian Detatchment, Gordon Airport, Saint Fabian
From: United Duchies, Auxilary Cruiser ARN Pentaci.
Greetings, normally the United Duchies is not known for contacting forces in the field out of the blue, but perhaps we can assist each other. Am I correct in our intel reports that you have been ordered to evac Saint Fabian but do not have the transportation…over


TO:United Duchies, Auxilary Cruiser ARN Pentaci.
From: Senior Decurion Lucian Forbes DoTM

Greeting in return. Yes, we sent out the last of the refugees, but I still have twenty five aide workers and over a hundred troops that need out of Saint Fabians. Given the current unstable situation, if it makes you more comfortable, we will leave all military gear and non personal weapons at dock prior to embarcation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To: Tanaara Government
From: Outer Ministry, United Duchies
Subject: Tanaara military forces in Saint Fabian.
Greeting and salutations,

The Government of the United Duchies has noted that you have a Marine contingent still occupying Saint Fabian territory as the invasion by Bretton forces occurs. It has also been suggested that you wish to remove these forces, but they lack transportation from the field.

The United Duchies, by request of her fellow Klatchian State of Vrak, will soon be removing a disabled Vrakian merchant vessel from the Port of Gordon. Our commander in the field has suggested that you might be willing to provided needed manpower to assist us for evacuation of your forces and personnel from Saint Fabian.
-Sir Brent Keole, Undersecretary for Maritime, Outer Ministry of the United Duchies.

To: Outer Ministry, United Duchies
From: Ministry of State, Domination of tanaara

Greetings unto thee...
Our people remaining in Saint Fabian will gladly provide the manpower. They sent the last plane out filled with refugees. However we can not guarantee any specific set of merchant marine qualifications and skills.
They have also informed us that they have been contacted by your onsite commander with the same offer. They had accepted and we will not countermand our field commander.

Thank you for you kind offer and assistance.
Lord Sinjin Kincannon. Minister of State.

"Okay boys and girls you head the SenDec, we pack up everything nice and tidy, leave it cleaner than we found it. Every thing goes into disposal bags and where ntey're fill bring them to me for dissolution. Only personal weapons, your go bags and the various small things we've promised to see safe>" The orders went out as Senori Decurion Forbes set about making planst to get his troops to the docks.

(( OOC: Waitingness? Really? Is that like anxiousness or anticipation? ))

Lolimba politely awaited an answer from Daveed. Goran stared balefully in the rearview mirror at Daveed. The driver didn't much care beyond keeping up the Miraade's driver.

~~~~~~~~~~

Errant shrugged. "I guess I can't stop'em from making the Collapsible Combat Ruler...I mean, my Secretary for Education, Ashley Petry, swears by it. She says the intimidation factor alone of popping the CCR out to full length usually solves problems..and that little ol'lady has taken care of a gang of schoolyard bullies with it. Mostly she's overjoyed the handy ability of being able to carry a ruler in her handbag for the necessary precise measurement taking at the drop of a hat."

He sighed as he watched the trees open up as the freeway opened up as they passed the exits into the small city of Neshoba. "I just want to focus them on the practical things first. I don't want them to let their minds wander from the priorities such as the production of our new main battle rifle the MOR, Modular Offensive Rifle."

He stopped and turned his head slowly as he heard the Queen speak.

"And one goal for you nation...What do you want that goal to be?"

He stared at her for a moment as a chill ran up his spine. He'd those words in his dreams for many nights. In his dreams they seemed foreboding, accusatory. He wasn't sure how the Queen meant them. Perhaps the negative conotation was all in his mind, a result of his stress. "A nation founded on the principles of Classical Liberalism that is governed by representatives servant to the will of the people and elected through a popular vote."

He glanced up towards the driver and Corporal Salva. "So many people would be content to let me rule with incredible executive power...like I did when I commanded the Revolution. They'd be content to live in a 'Father Knows Best" state lead by me, their 'All Father'...which is what 'Miraade' means. To the Taung, their chief is the father of the entire tribe."

He looked back at Mercy, a bit conflicted inside. "I understand what they mean and what they want. I take being Miraade seriously...and I love'em all like a father would and I want the very best for them like a father would. That's why I've got to kick and pull and get a consitution ratified to set up and protect a representative republic based on Liberalist ideals. Because Ia don't want that kind of power...I wouldn't feel comfortable having it. Also, I won't be around forever. I'm twenty-five, and I should live another fifty years if everything goes smoothly....but after me?"

Errant shook his head. "Strong arm states don't work out. Once the fire and charisma of the initial ruler dies out...it's just a house of cards in a hurricane. I don't know who'd succeed me. I don't know what would happen to the people's freedoms...to them. I believe the best, most fair government is that ruled by the will of those governed."

"Catawaba is near tropical, being somewhat close the Tropic of Capricorn. I would love to visit the north of Tanaara...if it is cold as I guess it might be?"


"Oh it gets very cold..." Daveed apologised "I was just remembering last winter's snowfall. "The great massif, a massive mountain system that rivaled the better known Himalayas in breath and heights, it is known as the Lossefanyar Athan Snow beyond the Sky." He explained that the name was elvish from those who had found it before any humans had settled the region. It divides the main continent, running north and south. In just the last few years we have tunnelled though it, setting up oour intra continental hyperspeed monorail system. Well tunnels, Gates and Portals, alone and in combination. It's hard for a terrorist to bomb a train that is in other than real space."

"Between the powerful psionic adepts of Cats Keep and the master Mages of Tarlachia, anhd our tedchnology, we've saved millions in time and money."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" I believe the best, most fair government is that ruled by the will of those governed"

Mercedez smiled at him. Tanaara was classified as a 'father knows best" and she, like every leader from Foundation on -whether elected every six years or elected and ruled for life - had ruled with pretty much limitless power. In a few months I get to I step down. Robs trained to a fair theee well, the people cast their votes and he'd been officially named heir. And I can take a real vacation

She shrugged lightly "Dfferent forms for different people. But what are you going to do Errant, if thats not what your people want and need? You peoples old term, you just said it yourself, means father. What if your nation's health and prosperity as a society needs that sort of ruler?"

The question left unsaid was "Going to hurt your people for the sake of your wishes?"

Lolimba Bevu cocked her head to the side. "What is the nature of Tanaara's terrorist threat?" Goran leaned around his chair to look back at the mention of 'terrorist.' Lolimba waved his attention away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Errant's icy blue eyes widened to saucers. As his mouth dropped open and his skin paled, he came to a very quiet realization. A shock went through him. "Oh God...oh my God..." He blinked. "Oh holy...that's...that's what they could be grumbling about after my speeches...the blank, worried looks..."

"It's not so much Tanaara's terrorist threat, but the Fatal Terrain Region's terrorist threat. Most of the nations are doing so well economically, educationally, across the board ... we are envied. And there are those that can not stand to see such prosperity. But there are remnants of war as well."

"Over a decade ago we ended the Dark War, a War that lasted for well over a decade, and destroyed completely over seventeen nations in the region. And not newly made nations either, but nations of wealth and prosperity, over run, and not just decimated, but obliterated. Tarlachia, Tanaara, and others took the survivors in, but many just dispersed and now are little more than huddles of civilians here and there trying to survive, not even willing to form nations." He shook his head, how did one describe the terrible impact of the Dark War, where as a result of the terrible conflict, vast tracks of land lay unclaimed, untended?

"Just in the last few weeks a nation on our southern borders imploded with the death of their Empress. Though in all bluntness it wasn't really a nation, more of a collection of non humans, those that had been persecuted elsewhere and had fled to Blue Anthem for protection. But with little national infrastructure, and specifically no army save local militias, they have been heavily predated upon by the demons who survived the Dark War and infest the mountains with in Blue Anthem."

Their strike that devistated the small capitol city and seen the death of the Empress, also destroyed the rest of the government. We've brought in Third, Fourth and Fifth Army to deal with the problem, and will be asking the survivors if they wish to join the Domination. We have a large non human population, and no one there seems to be interested in the burden of forming a government." He sighed deeply "But it will not be just their choice. Over the last year the demons have been coming into Tanaara, and we can not allow that to continue."

"Eventually once the demon infestation is taken care of, we'll ask them if they want to stay, and if not we'll do our best to help them form a government and go their own way." But he knew it would not be as easy as that .

The Anthemian Empress had held sway over only a small portion of Blue Anthem, and bandit warlords were numerous, each with their own little agendas. Those would have to be dealt with as much as the demons he explained further. Abaddons and Arithon's Demons were to Fatal Terrain what the Nazis had been to Europe after World WarII - the ultimate foe and children's boogy man-and considerably more dangerous than hordes of Nazi's.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh holy...that's...that's what they could be grumbling about after my speeches...the blank, worried looks..."

Mercedez gave him a compassionate look as his steely blue eyes flew wide and she waited patiently while realization seeped through him..

"And Errant... Yes I have all the power of Tanaara in these two hands, but - and it's a huge BUT, at any time my people can toss me off the throne. And I do have the Upper and Lower House, but -as all Tanaarans understand and few others sadly -they are nothing more than our way of keeping me abreast of what the Citizens are thinking. I do respond to the will of the people, but I neither succumb to the tyrany of the minority or the steamroller of popular fad. And I have given my people enough rope to hang themselves at times. Mostly were're a sensible people but some times even the best of us get swept up in a craze."

She knew she was chattering to give him time to think. She still remembered vividly the battle she, Holli and others, had waged to keep Tanaara from becoming a monarchy. Four years of ceaseles, and ultimately futile efforts, that had at times - in deepest pricvacy- both women in tears and cursing their fellow Tanaarans. Then they both had had to give in graciously, realizing that their nation, over a hundred and fifty yeard ols didn't want democracy any longer. They were tired of politics, evern the relatively civilizsed politics of Tanaara. They didn't want to have to put up with change every six years or so, and they definetly didn't like the bureaucracy that democracy inevitably engendered. Tanara had managed to keep most of it contained, but they still felt it had been too much.

So at the will of ninety eight percent plus of the Citizens it had all been ruthlesly scrapped and forged anew. And that was the gratedst gift Holli had given Mercedez. The rebuilding of what bureaucracy there was had been completed shortly before her death.

TO:United Duchies, Auxilary Cruiser ARN Pentaci.
From: Senior Decurion Lucian Forbes DoTM

Greeting in return. Yes, we sent out the last of the refugees, but I still have twenty five aide workers and over a hundred troops that need out of Saint Fabians. Given the current unstable situation, if it makes you more comfortable, we will leave all military gear and non personal weapons at dock prior to embarcation.

"Okay boys and girls you head the SenDec, we pack up everything nice and tidy, leave it cleaner than we found it. Every thing goes into disposal bags and where ntey're fill bring them to me for dissolution. Only personal weapons, your go bags and the various small things we've promised to see safe>" The orders went out as Senori Decurion Forbes set about making planst to get his troops to the docks.

To: Senior Decurion Lucian Forbes
From: ARN Pentaci

We have a green light. Vessel in question is Vrakian Hope located at Peir 3 of Gordon Harbor. We are sending appropriate forces to repair and sail merchant vessel. Any gear you need bring, but we don't know current status of underdeck storage.

ARN Pentaci
Captain Robinson watched as the small group in the well deck prepared to launch into the water. It was one thing for Hull Marines to do a long distance dive to capture a ship. It was quite another for the Captian to be sending his cheif engineer, XO, and his Cheif Warrent Gunner off with a freshed faced Marine Captain and five other marines into harms way. But that was life in Fifth Fleet.

"Demons..." Lolimba frowned. "I am an alor for my clan, a priestess you might say though I only lead in ceremonies on ritual days...I have heard that word bandied about with varying meanings..."

Her milky, silentless eyes locked strangely with Daveed's eyes. "How do you mean it? A pejorative for enemies? A genetic experiment gone awry such as the scientist might fear? Or an evil spirit made corpreal?"

~~~~~~~~~~~

Errant reached up and took off his forager cap. He ran his free hand through his short brown hair, first one way and then the other. There was no real concern for what it did to the immaculate combing and styling. It was a comfortable scruff now. He took a deep breath and blew it out.

He looked out the window for a moment. His ice blue eyes stared down at the forager cap in his lap. He was a very average man. He was average height at five feet nine inches. He weighed an average one hundred and sixty-four pounds. He had average looks like that of the nice boy next door. Without his Miraade's heart and skull on his arms, kama, and kad, he could have passed for any sargeant in the Catawaba Marines, another face in the ranks. He was an unremarkable-looking man.

He was, however, remarkable for his deeds. Those he wore around him like invisible medals. They marched before him. To the ignorant, he was just a man in comical finery. To his people, he was the most courageous, heroic, and thus most powerful man in the country. He'd held them together during the Revolution. He'd led from the front at the most desperate of hours in the most wild of charges. He'd protected the average Catawaban from Togovian and then from the anarchy that threatened to burn through the country after the Viceroyalty fell. But he'd never been meant to do all of those things.

"Gorram it...Raul." Errant looked over at Mercy. "If ya haven't guessed it by now...I wasn't the guy that was supposed to do be forming the government. I was the military head. If things had worked out like planned...I would have had General Tom Waverly's job. Unfortunately...a Togovian FIST, Fast Insertion Special Tactics, platoon shook things up."

"Raul Enchante was a foriegner...a scholar who...I never found out exactly why...decided to come and study the Togovian colonial system in Catawaba. He saw how bad we really had it and got his idealism riled up. He started rabbled-rousing with his ideas of Liberalism...he got the foriegners and urban Catawabans to start acting out against the government..."

"He eventually joined with the Taung and rural Catawabans and asked me to head up the combined rebel forces...then he went and got himself and most of the political wing killed during a meeting with various cell leaders."

Errant shook his head. "I was the highest survivor. People looked to me to answer back...and give the strength to carry on. Well I did...in the only way I knew how...through the tough discipline and gruff tyranny of a soldier...fair but exactingly ruthless to get things done. And...I've been doing that..." He glanced down at at the cap in his hands. "...ever since. I've been feeding them government this way because I thought it was the best way to get things done...and I was working against the Liberalism I thought I was working towards..."

"How do you mean it? A pejorative for enemies? A genetic experiment gone awry such as the scientist might fear? Or an evil spirit made corpreal?"

Daveed looked her full in the eyes, letting her - again, only should she choose to, see what he had seen, had witnessed but speaking aloud as well. "Either they were aliens from a different dimention, or they were evil spirits given corporal form. I am trained as a shaman, a priest yes, and to my senses they were evil made manifest. But I am also a man of science, and I am also willing to believe that they were simply rapacious alien beings, but with powers and abilities unexplainable by our science and technology.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I wasn't meant to end up on the throne either, I took it just as a stopgap till Holli found some one more suitable. Then things dragged out the war took her attention, and then the act that spread it beyond Tarlachia took her life. And there I was." Mercy said understandingly.

"You haven't lost your peoples love and confidence. So while they may not be wanting to go where you want them too, they still want you to lead them. It's not wrong to be a ruler."

"And Errant, remember that electing people to office does not ensure sound rulership, leadership any more than being raised to be the next ruler does. Infact it possibly denies the people the best government. I always like the thought that you snatch up the best, let them scream and rant a bit then they settle down and do darn good work so they can get the heck back to private life." Mercy chuckled.

(( I'm assuming these are psychic hints Daveed is pinging off Lolimba's mind. ))

Lolimba's milky eyes stared as she thought over this information and the subtle nudges in the back of her mind. The mild curiousity of sight, so long dormant, was still there. She pondered this before the dark spectre brought by the conversation pushed in time with her old curiousity. "To the Taung, we believe in many spirits, animism some call our beliefs. We call it darsum...but alor and miraade run within the same families and have for many generations. We believe that abilities, blessings from our gods, run within those bloodlines. Errant, Goran, and I are of the same bloodline, the Bevu. While that is the name that all in our clan take, we are the Bevu descendents of alor and miraade. Miraade deal in the physical world against beast and man in there do their abilities lie. Alor, however..."

Her voice lowered, quieter. Lolimba's driver was also Taung, a distance nephew from another clan, but Taung rituals were not spoken of loudly, lest spirits be attracted. "Alor deal with the spirit world...the powers that govern beyond this world and behind veils of great power. We have appeased, decieved, and fought the demons of the land. For many years we contained our native demons, but the Togovians brought their own evils...physical and spiritual. Our warriors, culminating in Errant's victory in the Revolution, have taken care of the physical evil. The spiritual evils...the alor were devastated during Togovian 'cleansings.' We hold our evil sprits in check, even as my sister alor train our proteges and replacements."

She hesitated for a moment. "Might I see what evils you bring with you, Daveed? This is a threat my Miraade cannot address for he does not firmly believe in them, one that he cannot address with a rifle or missile as with the threats he is used to."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Errant looked up from his cap and a slight smile grew on his face. "How do you think I've gotten most of my cabinet thus far? I'm trapped'em, manipulated'em, or dragged'em kicking and screaming to their desks. They're an odd bunch...probably never get approved by a legislature...but they're experts, no-nonsense experts that love their field and most only had to be told that they would have the best opportunity to set the entire precedent for their department."

The Miraade glanced back out the window. He'd hardly noticed the drive during their conversation. He could just see the outskirts of Graceland coming up fast. The freeway, Route 6, had been laid out by the Togovians to meet in a massive interchange, both affectionately and angrily named the "Graceland Gnarl" by drivers. The Gnarl was where all the freeways and major routes throughout the country met in the heart of Graceland. It gave that "all roads lead to Rome" feel to the Catawaban Route system, but it also made for a gorramed ugly, confusing mess for unexpierenced drivers. A moment's inattention could quickly have a northbound driver on their way to Bartlett going south on Route 25 to Canton in space of a few heartbeats.

Some soldiers joked that the Gnarl was some Togovian defensive measure to prevent the entry of enemy vehicles into Graceland. It was more accepted that the Gnarl was a symbol for the Togovian bureaucracy that birthed it. It was meant to allow the Viceroy's bureaucrats to transverse the country and get back to the capital quickly. As annoying and ridiculous as it was, Errant did like one thing about it.

Route 1 lead right to the People's House. It made getting back to his residence and center of government quick and easy. It had also allowed him to quickly move forces right to the Viceroy's Palace, as the People's House used to be called, during the Revolution. Errant had made note to blow a few of the overpasses in the event that anyone else tried the same tactic. There was no way in hell he was going to get caught naked in the middle of the night like the Viceroy had.

He turned his attention back to Mercy. "Thanks for letting me vent there." He shook his head. "This is going to be a fun bit of time...probably going to have to go to the Assembly and the Governors and have them start asking around locally and see what the real opinion on this is at the local level. I don't want to force anything on the People just because they might think I want it...and I don't want to waste the Assembly's, the Governors', or my time pounding out that piece of paper if no one wants it."

"Might I see what evils you bring with you, Daveed? This is a threat my Miraade cannot address for he does not firmly believe in them, one that he cannot address with a rifle or missile as with the threats he is used to

"I hope I bring none with me." Daveed said softly as he opned his mind and heart to Lolimba. Daved had sworn many oaths in his life, oaths to use his powers only for good as much as possible, that if he must harm others it would be only in defense of the innocent, that his life was worth expending rather than bring harm, that both life and death were sacred, and never to be denied...

In the Whole of the Divine, and in the presence of my fellow students and teachers, I, at this most solemn time in my life, do freely take this Oath, whereby I shall pledge to myself and all others the manner in which I shall live the rest of my days.

I shall be ever grateful to my teachers who have planted the seeds of knowledge, which I shall nurture forever. I thank them for allowing me to see the importance of learning and realize that lifelong study is critically important to becoming a Healer. May I ever be honored to pass along my knowledge to those worthy, and mentor all such all of my days.

I realize that on this day, I become a Healer for all eternity. I shall strive to be a person of good will, high moral character, and impeccable conduct. I shall learn to love my fellow man as much as I have learned to love the art of healing.

I shall always act in the best interest of my patient and shall never allow personal reward to impact on my judgment. I shall always have the highest respect for human life and remember that it is wrong to terminate life in certain circumstances, permissible in some, and an act of supreme love in others. I shall never promise a cure, as only death is certain, and I shall understand that preserving health is as important as treating disease. When a patient for whom I have been caring dies, I shall have the strength to allow him or her to die with dignity and in peace.

I shall have as a major focus in my life the promoting of a better world in which to live. I shall strive to take a comprehensive approach to understanding all aspects of life. To become the Healer I wish to be, I must expand my thinking and practice from a system of episodic care to one of a preventive approach to the problems of mankind, including the social ills of malnutrition and poverty that plague the world in which we live.

I am not a God and I cannot perform miracles. I am simply a person who has been given the rights, responsibilities and mental gifts to be a Healer. I pledge to myself and all who can hear me that this is what I shall become.

And that was but the oldest of his oaths. Yes Daveed had killed, he had been a soldier, a sniper - but all his targets had been necessary ones.

I carry the blood of demons with in me, but while such has expanded my donas, the gifts, powers, they have never, to the best of my self knowledge brought me any desire to do harm, or conquest or unwholsesomness." Daveed spoke mind to mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't want to force anything on the People just because they might think Iwant it...and I don't want to waste the Assembly's, the Governors', or my time pounding out that piece of paper if no one wants it."


"Venting? That polite commentary was venting? Oh I am such a failure then as a Lady" Mercy's eyes sparkled. "My venting is considerabley rougher than that I am sad to say.

"and while you might feel you aren't a proper suscessor to Raul Enchante, I think you are just what your people needed. Mister Enchante might not have done half as well despite his knoweldge. He was after all a foriegner and the Catawabans might have harbored resentment over that." she thought aloud.

St. Fabian, Gorgon City Air Field, and later the docks...

"That’s the last of it sir" The sergeant reported to Senior Decurion Lucian Forbes as the gear piled in the last of the portable domes melted down into so much unrecognizable sludge, courtesy of the 'scuttling' charges that had been ignited. The troops had formed a ready line and the aide workers had copied them.

Each trooper had his or her go rucksack on their back, personal arms holstered, as did the aide workers- Tanaara was of the strong opinion as a culture that an armed society was a polite one and so even the relief workers had brought their favorites with them. Though in one case it did seem to include an heirloom Dragonov. Beside every pair of combat boots, and next to most of the footwear of the civilians, were pairs of varying sized plastic carry cages.

The few flights they had managed to get out were too full to allow for family companion animals, and the Fabian refugees had been required to leave them behind. However the Tanaarans had promised their owners they would be brought out...and Tanaarans always keep that sort of promises.

"We're going to double time this folks, the Brettons are showing their true colors and time is of the essence." The Senior Decurion was glad that the sole vehicle he'd acquired would be large enough to hold the pet carriers, and the few dogs big enough to not fit in the largest available seemed fit and reasonably happy to trot along side the troops.

The civilian aid workers were as willing as his troops to make the twenty-mile hike to the port-– Tanaaran’s were a fit and healthy people as a whole - but he’d be watching them closely.

They were unmolested as they made it to the port facilities and began searching for the Vrakian Hope,located at Peir 3. They found it with little trouble and apparently deserted.

A quad of fists were sent aboard tocheck to see if the ship ws ihnhabited - but more so had it been booby trapped.

"I don't care what her cargo is, but it'd be mighty inhospitable to blow their nice boat out of the wter, so look sharp and be careful" Forbes advised as he watched those selected make their way cautiously up the gangplank.

His informal questioning had produced three marines who had merchant marine qualifications as well, an ex-ships cook, and an ex-cruise liner purse, and one of his corporals admitted to knowing how to use ship to shore radio and some of the various pieces of navigational equipment.

The Vrakian Hope

The Vrakian Hope was stationed barely on Peir 3. Her massive hulk actually was deep into harbor waters with only the bow tied to the dock, and the stern line attached to a bouy off in the water. The single large deckhouse rose four stories above her deck, which was another story or so above the concrete of the dock.

The container ship had a light load, the deck covered with three levels of multi-colored containers. As the Tanaara marines began to board the ship, others were arriving at stern of the vessel.

At the stern a small, thin line shot out of the water. The grappling hook grabbed at the railing and caught. A moment later a single figure in a black wetsuit with a black hump of some sort on its back emerged fro the water. The figure climed up and a second appeared from the almost still water. As the first detached a smaller pack from its back and then removed a squad support gun. The second attached a second black line to the railing and dropped it down before preparing his sub-machine gun.

More figures appeared from the depth of the water until ten souls stood on the narrow deck.

Nothing was said by anyone but a central figure indicated two should move forward, two should circle the stern, and two should enter the deck house.

ARN Pentaci
"Captain, the XO reports they have boarded without incident"

"Alright, any word from the Tanaarians?"

"No sir..."

"See if you can raise them..."

To: Senior Decurion Lucian Forbes
From: ARN Pentaci

What is your location...over

Lolimba's eyes squeezed shut as images, sounds, smells, and other sensations flooded into her mind over her link with Daveed. As his memories began to open up to her, she heard in her mind Daveed's smooth, cultured voice reciting a solemn oath. It was very moving, Lolimba thought. Alor made very much the same vows though not in so many words.

A slight shiver passed over her and down her spine as Daveed revealed the taint within his blood. That was disconcerting, taboo to alor. While a flicker of worry crossed her mind, she withheld judgement to gently press onto what ever Daveed could share with her about his tribulations.

~~~~~~~~~

One corner of Errant's mouth turned up in a lopsided smirk. "Trust me, Mercy. Only a Lady of your quality has the kind of effect to make me that polite. Rest assured that my usual brand of venting can peel paint and make stalward Marine like Corporal Salva up there faint from shock." He raised his voice slightly so Salva could hear him.

Salva nodded slightly, turning her head slightly to look at the Queen out of the corner of her dark eye. "Afraid so, your Majesty. After hard day dealing with the constituional committee or the Catawaban Fairness Network, the Miraade can destarch a uniform with mere words."

Daveed remembered as if it were but hours ago, with crystal clarity... the shock of discovering that not all of those they were calling 'demons' had unbridaled desire to harm. That a few were killing as much out of confused fear as the mine's guards had been when the demons had first broken out of the mine.

Though far more were killing for the sheer simple, sickening pleasure of killing, and as painfully as possible... but some weren't...

They weren't human, they didn't think as humans, their mind's patterns painful and nearly incomprehensible, their speech all most unintelligible, the crawling, writhing sensation of utter chaos emmanating off of them. The waves of fear that spead forth like a tsunami from them, their lust, indeed a need for human blood...

And getting trapped in the depths of the mine with one and ten frightened, injured children was the last thing he'd expected. And he could have just let it die, but that wasn't him. The being hadn't tried to hurt any of them- despite it's obvious pain and fear it hadn't stuck out blindly. So he'd freed its body from the rock fall and just as he used his skill to take care of the childrens injuries, he did the same for the demon.

And later when they had managed to win free of the earth the demon had in turn saved his life, though it had only been able to do this by sharing it's blood with him. That had been one of the most frightening moments of Daveeds life. Nearly frozen with fear it had been all he could do to nod his head to the demon's barely understandable proposal speech. He hadn't wanted it, but had chosen it, his skills and nascent abilities had been desperately needed. Not for himself but by others. Those who could not defend themselves. Daveed had always been about the notion of "when life hands you lemons, make lemonade."

And his wife, who was a Celestial, had no doubts about him, she had been the one to ask him to marry her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercy's eyes crinkled and she threw back her head to laugh. "Then, please treat me like the rest of your friends. That would mean more to me than any amount of formality or etiquette." She wiggled her toes at him, reminding him that she'd been the one to shuck her shoes.

Salva turned her attention back outside the HMMWV, looking for threats and giving the driver an extra pair of eyes.

Errant's lopsided grin grew into a lopsided smirk. "I'll see what I can do to remember that, Mercy."

He put his forager cap back on. It wasn't as straight and proper as it had been on the tarmac, but he did place two fingers along the length of his crooked nosed nose, broken and reset in the past, to make sure the brim of the cap was pulled down to roughly the right position. A little of his professionalism, what little he had, returned as the HMMWV began to enter the confusing maze of the "Graceland Gnarl". "I don't know if Catawabans would have resented Raul. He was an intelligent, great man, a renassiance man....but yeah, what they want and what we Liberalists think is right may be not be the same...and I'm beginning to think I need to have a talk with my constitutional committee as I haven't heard any definite report of dissent or disapproval from the populace being considered."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba felt her wrinkled skin crawl on her arms and shoulders. She knew those emotions, felt them before in her duties as an alor. She had felt the ruin, pain, and savagery wrought by demons or those in their thrall. She had felt this before.

But never on this level, this flood of horror. She shunted those feelings aside with the shield of her usual, carefully-crafted cold demeanor. She pushed dutifully into Daveed's memories about the demons themselves, their auras, their powers, their appearances.

Mercy nodded. "And all too often what the Boss hears is what people think they wwant to hear, and that is the greatest disservice that can be done to us, and mostly out of good intent...which is what the road to hell is so definitely paved with!"

"Send out people unaffiliated with you, and listen in all the right places. Namely every place you would have sat and plotted."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flash of memory...his hospital, poor excuse for one though it wss, destroyed, irreplaceable equipment smashed in locked and empty rooms; a massive bulldozer flying through the air as if it were a leaf in a strong breeze; a mine guard toppling where he stood, blood pouring forth from every pore in his skin; eerie blue flamed fire wreathing the communications mast, melting it's steel structure in minutes; a blur of motion, undechyperable and almost unfolloweable by the human eye and four guards gutted, intestines dragged from their screaming, convulsing bodies - and each of them more than fifty or so feet from one another.

Hideous inhuman laughter that cackled and gibbered in the night as nightmares killed, and villagers died purely and simply of terror. Rains of warm fresh blood from the cloudless skies; waves of locusts each larger than his hands and avid for flesh;water clotting into great mounts of some curdled stinking substance. Shapes never more than half seen, but twisted, hunched, and often with more limbs that humans had.. and rotting by the stench they left behind

Gorgon Port;The Vrakian Hope

To: Senior Decurion Lucian Forbes
From: ARN Pentaci

What is your location...over


TO; ARN Pentaci
From Senior Decurion Forbes

*I have just sent aboard teams to check for unauthorized personel and improvised personel deterents. Over*

Came the reply as he watched his troops vanish in the maze that was any container freighters top deck when loaded. He hated this short of ship check. You never knew what one would find. Fifteen pound rabid wharf rats were the least of it...


The lead troop, stopped in mid step as a flicker of half seen movement caught her peripheral vision. Slowly she finished her step and turned her head just enough to see if it was a visual quirk. No.. it wasn't and hand sign flashed down through the fist she led. It would be passed on to the others via click code over the integrated helmet radios.

The driver made quick turns on to off ramps and quicker mergings as the convoy threaded its way through the Gnarl. Errant knew not to look out of the HMMWV. Most Catawabans thought that the Gnarl resembled some surrealist nightmare and purposely kept their eyes straight ahead. Errant looked down at Mercy's feet. "Best put your shoes back on we'll be at the P.H. pretty quick." She had dainty feet, picturesque feet, or so Errant mused, not that he usually paid attention to ladies' feet.

He took that moment to stare off into space in thought, rather than at Mercy's toes. "I hate to loose the vornskrs on representatives...but it makes me uneasy that they either aren't listening to the people, don't want to tell me what the people want, or really don't understand Catawabans enough to know when they're being sincere and when they're 'deadpanning.'"

~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba's cold demeanor slammed shut on the link between their minds, and old alor physically jerked back in her seat. Goran was fit to climb into the back, when a panting Lolimba held up a hand to stay him. She didn't recall when her breathing began to increase and become fitful, nor that her blood was rushing in her ears. She opened her eyes again, even in her long blindness she could still see images of Daveed's past horrors dancing before her. "...It was only in our long past...so long that it is only legend...that we have even heard of..devilry of that magnitude...alor and miraade rose during that time. With blessings of the gods and spirits, they combatted the ancient evils. That is how alor and miraade gained respect and the positions of authority they hold to this day..."

She took a moment to get control of herself before looking back at Daveed.

Mercy had been looking over the Gnarl with a road racers eyes. "Oh that would be just lovely to race through. Was it dsesigned deliberately for such.." She looked over at Errant, and the light in her eyes faded a little. "No, most people don't enjoy driving. well racing really, enough to lay out the money for that, so it had to have been intentional to plague people andf make them enjoy driving even less." She hook her head sadly.

With Tanaara moving forward so these days, ground bound automobiles were fast going the ay of the dodos - in the space of less than three years becoming merely a nithch market. But she loved to race, preferably rallys, or touring races where it wasn't sheer speed, but driver skill tht matttered. She could probably make even this Hummer do things that would permanatly white knuckle it's driver. She'd probably been through more extreme driving training courses than he had.

"Best put your shoes back on we'll be at the P.H. pretty quick."

Hearing that she gave her feet one last brisk massage and slid back into the shoes with a hidden sigh. She could have asked for the shoes to be retailored for her, but she had never been one to accept more 'special handling' that she absolutely had to, even though she knew that in many instances it actualy made things harder for others. But she had been brought up in NCS, national child servces - it wasn't untill she was almost eleven that the Colonel and his wife had taken her in as a foster - and while the system was very good and she never wanted for necessities, there were never any luxuries either. She shook her head ever so slightly, wondering what brought on that musing, those memories.

" really don't understand Catawabans enough to know when they're being sincere and when they're 'deadpanning.'"

Mercy nodded sympathetically. "I know your worries somewhat. Tanaara has only gone 'extra-regional' in the last few years, and we've found a huge problem. Cultural misunderstandings." She shuddered slightly "There have been some bad incidents, a couple nearly fatal. And not all of them outsiders faults either. And a few I've no understanding the basis of, for all that I- more than most Tanaarans - have spent time outside Fatal Terrain, outside of Tanaara."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That is how alor and miraade gained respect and the positions of authority they hold to this day..."

Daveed let her rest, concerned for the aged wise woman. "I am sorry that my memories have strained you Lolimba, but to curtain them even a little is less than you deserve." He acknowledged her status and standing in his eyes.

Though the horrors of his first encounters with demons was nothing to what the Fatal Terrain region had suffered in the Dark War, but he well knew that those memories -for he had never had to directloy interact with the demons of the Dark War-- were far less stressfull. He had spent much of the years since the Dark War returning, or attempting to return, the sanity of those broken by the Dark War. He was the kingdoms foremost practioner of redacting, the art and science of healing broken minds though the use of the psionic 'donas'.

"Might I ease the stress on your body?" His healing abilities could easily take twenty to thirty years off of her body, not necessarily in appearance but in healing the whole system of her physigonomy, setting the clock back internally so to speak.

A cold pit curled up in his gut. Foriegners...xenophobia...it wasn't something that Errant wished to start thinking about or considering. It was a dangerous, slippery slope but all too frighteningly possible. Many of the foreign communities had been hit hard in the same series of strikes that had killed Raul and many of the Revolution's civilian leaders. The Togovians had correctly surmised that the foriegners were a insurgent, driving force to the rebellion as a whole, and the Viceroy took pleasure in ordering many of the ethnic communities to be cleansed and razed.

There was discontent amongst some immigrant communities. They thought that the other rebels Catawaba and Taung alike had not done enough to safeguard them. It didn't help that for much of the Revolution the rebel militias had hid in the Highlands around Taung villages and fought on many occasions to keep the villages safe from Togovian reprisals.

Errant couldn't deny that many of the Liberalists in the country were among the immigrants. Whatever lured them to the shores of Catawaba they must not expected the stagnant hell of the Togovian ruled colony. There's little surprise they were the first to rise up. Catawabans and Taung, though happy with the Togovians, were used to autocratic rule. While the immigrants might have rose up against an autocracry, Errant realized, that like he had, the Catawabans and Taung has only risen up against the Togovia not the style of government.

He pushed away that thought and forced his attention onto the Gnarl as they started to leave it for Route One into downtown Graceland. He changed the subject to Mercy's apparent passion for racing. He suppressed a horrified shudder stalwartly. "The Route Interchange, or the Graceland Gnarl as we call it, was simply a bureaucratic mess as far as we know. Apparently the traffic engineer involved was a third cousin of the wife of the Viceroy's mistress's other lover and he was God-awful and an idiot. The Gnarl resulted."

He turned his attention, quickly, back inside the HMMWV. "People enjoy driving here. And the Gnarl has been the site of races...only it's been slow in restarting. The same third cousin of the wife of the Viceroy's mistress's other lover was killed by an illegal racer on the Gnarl. Now, the Togovians outlawed racing anyways...safety issue mostly and to keep high speed smugglers or rebel messagers down to a minimum. But that third cousin of...well you know...was lost on his own creation after coming out to inspect it. He mistook an on-ramp for an off-ramp and got nailed head on by a racer going seventy-eight. From then on, racing, especially on the Gnarl, was a crime punished by a twenty millimeter rocket from a Togovian Carnaby gunship."

There was a slight mischievious smirk to his lips. "As you can imagine racing dried up real quick...me? I never really learned to drive...except for a HMMWV, a tank, and an APC. Even so, I don't drive much...never have. Now boating, that's my thing."

Mercy laughed at the mention of a gunship, "Oh an Obstacle Course! And only going seventy eight? What a first time driver?" She then looked abashed. "I shouldn't laugh over his death. But I'd love to see it from the view point of a chopper. I bet I could get one of our award winning designers to develope a race for you... Say, an annual event where you close it off, tevelvise it, sell endorsements to advertisers and make a mint off of it."

"As you can imagine racing dried up real quick...me? I never really learned to drive...except for a HMMWV, a tank, and an APC. Even so, I don't drive much...never have. Now boating, that's my thing."

"I've been on a few yatchs, and no few warships, and I enjoy canoeing, but I never had a chance to get into 'boating' unfortuantely" Mercy commented. "The Crown was gifted a yatch, and I've given a couple of dinner parties on it, and view a three or four regattas from it's decks, but I couldn't tell you much more about it than it was absolutely lovely to be aboard" Mercy blushed slightly. What little free time she had she tended to split between her three favorite pasttimes, reading, riding horses, and racing cars.

Errant chuckled at Mercy's reddening face. "Well was it a motor yacht or sail-driven?"

He felt the HMMWV dip down and he glanced out of the corner of his eye forward past the driver. They were exitting the snarl and going down onto the surface roads near the People's House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Taung of young age stress was strengthening. To accept any healing for any injury less life threatening than a missing limb was frowned upon. Consequencely, the only way to whine or complain about pain was to boast how it nearly felt like your arm fell off.

However, Lolimba was not young anymore. No one frowned on her taking herbs or measures to reduce the creaking of years gone away. Lolimba nodded to Daveed. "Please, do."

Well was it a motor yacht or sail-driven?"

"That I can answer. Her name is Le Heur Bleu, she is 344 feet long and is a motor yatch." Mercy said promptly, her blush fading a bit as she had some small knowledge. "Here, let me show you." She pulled her PDA out of her clutch and with a few light taps brought up a hologram of the ship and its information (http://www.yachtforums.com/forums/fincantieri-yacht/4444-radical-new-fincantieri-marco-polo.html).

"When I abdicate in couple of months and Rob takes the throne I think I'm going to take a long cruise on her. It will be a perk, that I'll abuse just terribly." Her eyes twinkled. 'Maybe I can get Rob to appoint me Ambassador to Catawaba."

"Please, do."

Gently Daveed laid his hand on hers and let his gifts open up, flowing into the aged Taung woman like a warm current. His gifts sorted through her body, seeking out and replensihing age damaged tissue, joints, nerves - the entirity of her physical self. It was not instantaneous, much of the repair would take over night, resetting her body while she slept. But once it was through internally her body would be that of a much younger person, some one in their mid to late thirties.

Errant let out a low whistle as his eyes glued themselves to the hologram.. "Gorr...I mean...wow, I'd just make that the new People's House. Launch garages?"

He leaned in. "If Tanaara would so wish to honor us so, I..we...would love to have this docked out of Graceland." He glanced over at Mercy out of the corner of his eye. His lopsided smirk was in full force. "I'm sure we could find a place for you somewhere..."

As a sidenote about the holographic PDA, Errant knew what he could get Miss Jessica Lepor for Christmas who was his adminstrative assistant, among other things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba gasped as she felt tingling flow up her arm. Some of her rumors about an alor's powers were hypbole but not all. One of those was called empathy by Catawabans though it was quite just feeling the emotions of others. It was many times not the present emotions, but past emotions, latent emotions left upon a person or object. Many alor described as a feelings in the gut or behind shoulder blades. It was a very primal instinct, some say that animals exhibit this trait frequently.

Deprived of sight, her Feeling, capitalized with the emphasis put on the word by alor, was like a second sight. She could frequently notice and locate people by her Feeling. The normal person is a riot of emotion, energy. A person well trained in mediation could center themselves, separate themselves from emotion and almost disappear from Feeling. However while Daveed seemed centered, the sudden surge as he channeled his abilities lit up a corona around Daveed in Feeling. It was so strong that even Goran, who as a male Bevu had very weak twinges and stumblings for Feeling, was shocked as Daveed flared up into the big Taung's meager notice.

"I'm sure we could find a place for you somewhere..."

Mercy blushed again "Launch garages? I'm kind of lost by what you mean in relation to the yatch. I don't think one keeps them in a garage, though I have seen boat houses, and there are covered docks sizeable enough to hold her I know, but I don't think she's kept in one."

She found herself wishing for Michiko's Empathy, she couldn't quite tell if he was joking with her. Mercy replied with a deadpan tease "Well the usual place for an Ambassador is in their nation's enbassy. But making the yatch an embassy might be a bit hard, as I don't think it would do well on dry land."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daveed was happy to find that Lolimba possessed a well trained - though the training she had undergone was not as structured, as technical, as his had been- and powerful gift. He made some small adjustments so she could 'see' what exactly he was doing. Daveed was just as much a teacher as he was a healer and he loved sharing hisknowledge. He carefully explained to her what was being done, mind to mind, as he did it.

"Wouldn't want to bring actual business to a yacht like this." Errant leaned back. "Anyways I'll probably just mandate something about the Miraade's 'Commandeering Privileges of Vessels in Catawaban Waters,' so your embassy would be most inappropriate."

The HMMWV began to slow as it turned off onto a side street to Route 1. As the motorcade slowed onto the surface street. The Miraade glanaced out of the vehicle. This was very near to the People's House, and during early colonization many of the Togovian nobles and rich merchants had built small mansions near the Vicroy's Palace as it was considered the 'posh' thing to do.

He sighed a little. Many of them were burned out shells or piles of rubble in varying degrees of site clearing. He had no love for the past inhabitants, and he'd had no love for the structures during the Revolution. As they'd closed in on the Viceroy's Palace, it'd become bloody, slow building to building slugmatches. Both sides had leveled buildings in an attempt to blunt the others advance. Errant remembered ordering bombardment of a particularly old manor house that had belonged to the one of the patrons of the Catawaban Venture Company, the private firm that had spearheaded the first wave of colonization on Catawaba at the pleasure of the Togovian government.

He'd come to regret those actions. He was sure he saved Catawaban lives by razing the mansions, setting fire to them to deny them to the enemy, and pushing forward through the smoking remains. That was his motivation then. Now in hindsight and the historical perspectives provided by Mrs. Petry and Dr. Henry Jones III he realized that no matter how much those colonist leaches might be hated, they were the history of Catawaba. He'd made no attempt to save them, and he regretted that. He'd worked so far to protect other historical and archaeological sites to try and find redemption.

As they neared the People's House, the lots were cleared, clean, and ready for building. This would be Catawaba's new diplomatic destrict, out of the ashes of old would come the birth of new. Errant dismissed some of his guilt by turning a grin towards Mercy. "If you'd like to stick that boring notion of embassies and ambassadors being one in the same...we'll be ready to start leasing out lots for diplomatic zoning soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The alor clenched and unclenched her hands. Lifting her years from her...with a thought? Remarkable. Healing was amongst the powers that alor could lay claim to, however not on this scale. Prevention, treatment of sickness, injury, and ills could be wrought by alor. A rare handful might be able to work miracles of this level, but Lolimba had no claim there.

She opened and closed her hands. The pain was gone, the arthritus. "You give many gifts, Daveed...I hear from your mind that you would believe in altruism...you must forgive me if I am slow to the belief. It is not something I have sworn to or seen much of beyond the ties of blood and kin."

"What gifts may I give in return? What may I share as you have shared?" Lolimba may not practice charity but she did believe and practice reciprocity as all Taung should.

"If you'd like to stick that boring notion of embassies and ambassadors being one in the same...we'll be ready to start leasing out lots for diplomatic zoning soon."

Mercy replied with a small laugh "If you think I'd make a terrible ambassador, just say so. I'm not at all sure what an Ambassador does to fill their day." She was suddenly worried. She knew she wasn't much of a party person, though she did enjoy dancing -and going to parties seemed to be most of what an ambassador did. Or so it had seemed to her. Though she had to admit she'd never looked deeply into exactly what an Ambassador did on a day to day basis.

Tanaara had not much experience with ambassadors, though Tarlachia maintained a tourist center, and Imitora had had a embassy and Ambassador until they'd been quietly asked to leave after the Firewalker incident Her mind drifted for a second...And her time as Holli's heir where Holli had insisted in trying to pair her off with every eligible bachelor about... Oh I don't think I could go through that again. I've lost three men in my life, I don't think I have the courage to love again. Though I hate the loneliness of my life. She shook off the sadness that engulfed her for a moment and smiled wrily at Errant. Mercy had very few friends, but she very much hoped that she and Errant would be friends He's a wonderful man, yes a wonderful young man She reminded herself.

"I could simply be a semi regular visitor, but that wouldn't make me very useful" She looked over the lots as they drove past them."Though I know Tanaara would probably want to lease out six to eight lots as one whole area, and probably lease a goodly chunk of land on the outskirts of Graceland."

"What gifts may I give in return? What may I share as you have shared?"

"What I'd like is perhaps the hardest gift for an individual to give. To step outside of self, and further- out of blood - to acknowledge in that doing that we are all one, we are all the same under the skin. Reach out to help someone who has no other connection to you. See the look on the faces of those you help and feel the ligthness in your heart and soul."

And he gave her another gift, a memory. A dieing child burned over ninety five percent of her body, the burns so deep that bone had been reached and destroyed...and the interminable hours, day after day, draining himself to exhaustion, and his many nights of bone deep despair, and racking tears, of his fears of failing this complete stranger...the days she cried and cursed him, cursed every one at the indescribable pain as they debrided her trembling flesh, so the flesh he helped her body to make could heal properly...the daeys that physicians said that she should be allowed to go on, pass through the veil, and his self questioniimg that maybe they were right...

Then he'd look into her soul and knew that she didn't want to yeild, that she wanted the fight - not out of fear, but out of sheer outraged defiance, a will that would not bend or break. And so he had stood with her, helping her as hsi gifts would allow.

And worth it all to see the joy in her eyes, and hear the simple thanks.

Something no amount of money could by, a repayment far beyond his deserving.

Not charity, but paying forward into the web of all life, something that would come badck to him, but even if it didn't was still purest joy.

Errant nodded. "Well until my lawyers put together the legal papers and we hammer out terms, you've got my word that Tanaara is more than welcome to that land. As for you, Mercy..."

He looked at her. She looked worried, not obviously though. She kept herself composed really well, but he'd always thought he was pretty good at reading people. "I've been trying to recruit diplomats and asked Missus Petry to give me all she could find on ambassadors and their duties. The best I found was from Baron Von Fizzlebottom, a Togovian diplomat from the Eighteenth Century. His book the Goodly Ambassador spoke on how to be an ethical, good, and effective diplomat...which is why I'm not surprised that Missus Petry found it holding up the table of a modern Togovian diplomat. But, Von Fizzlebottom said that 'a diplomat's first duty was to the interests of his own nation what ever they may be. An ambassador's most notable duties concern averting warfare and strike. However, settling trade disputes thereby gaining advantage for businesses of his home country, and attending diplomatic galas and social gatherings are also halmarks of an ambassador's duties.'"

Errant smiled. "My main qualification for diplomat is 'won't do anything stupid enough to start a shooting war,' which I know you pass. If you wanted to be a non-resident ambassador, that'd be fine. I couldn't fault you for not wanted to get out and travel a bit, take a bit of rest when you get out of office. But..." His smile disappeared. "...Catawaba would benefit a good bit from a close relationship with Tanaara with you as resident ambassador."

He glanced out over the cleared land. He could almost see the rubble of those dark, smokey days when they'd besieged the Viceroy's Palace. Like ghostly shades he could almost see his soldiers. Wispy and translucent, they stood attention, watching him go by. "I've gotten the preliminary reports from my troops. If our Aegis radar wasn't going into hysterics tracking that missile storm, those missiles were hypersonic. Our combat aircraft range is probably half or a third what everyone else is fielding. And our land forces are quite effective...if they have the perfect ambush and as long as the shoulder launched rockets hold out."

He shook his head. "I don't have the tech, the infrastructure, the academics, or trained personnel to put my military to rights. My most competitive business field is in Pizza Delivery. We may not make great electronics, aircraft, or anythign else for that matter, but we've going the best damned pizza delivery vans and pizza ovens in the world."

He sighed. "We could use all the help and cooperation we could getand are willing to give favorable status to Tanaara business and investment. That's pretty scary, giving another country a lot of sway into Catawaba. A lot of trust to give..." Errant turned back from the window and looked straight into Mercy's eyes. "I want to work with Tanaara, but I've got to work with someone I trust. If I work with anyone from Tanaara, I'd like to work with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba smiled and looked out the window of the HMMWV. She could not see same wispy ghosts that Errant thought he saw. She could Feel them. They remained after they were taken from the living in that last ruthless battle of the Revolution. There had been Togovians lingering after death. They had been quieted by Lolimba and her sister alors. The Togovians were malevolent or ignorant of their death. In any case, this was not their place. Those fallen Catawabans had been quieted and encouraged to pass on. Some had. These few lingering spirits had unfinished business. They had been the staunchest patriots and they could not rest until Catawaba was secure. Until the government and people were settled, these spirits' affairs were unsettled. They meant no harm, merely watched as silent sentries.

Lolimba liked them, liked their resolve. She turned back to Daveed still smiling, humor in her voice. "You ask very much, ner vod. I am an old woman, meant to scare youth and manipulate them into maturity. Perhaps if I were younger, but my heart is no longer warm as my skin is no longer warm."

Mercy was shaking her head "Then I'd be a terrible diplomat, a horrible Ambassador. I refuse to seek the benefit for my country at the expense of yours. I don't, I can't, believe in that. Benefit both our countries? Absolutely! And yes there are some countries that I'd rip off in an instant, but they are countries that would never fall into the category of 'friend'." Her face went cold for a moment as her thoughts flashed to the nation that had fired on Tanaara, Catawaba and Romandeos when none of the three had fired on them. Red Tide was an enemy and Tanaarans had elephant long memories.

Then she shook it off, looking about. She had very small Gifts, and her empathy was merely human empathy, not one of the Gifts. But here, as in other places she'd been, at times and only very faintly, she could hear echoes, touch dimly the resonances of great doings. And some how she knew that the fighting here, the last stand, had been worse far worse than the mere words on the pages of the reports concerning the Catawaban rebel's final push.

"I want to work with Tanaara, but I've got to work with someone I trust. If I work with anyone from Tanaara, I'd like to work with you."

Her heather blue eyes searched his face intently for a moment, then she broke into one of her brilliant smiles that lit her up from the inside "I'd like to be the one to work with you too Errant"

"Some times it's good to bet the ranch, to make that throw of the dice. This is for Catawaba." Mercy pulled a small case of titanium, set with fifty-six small red diamonds. She'd explain Life Diamonds, and the Burden later, in private, but for now she wanted him to have what the case held. Opening it with her code she removed a data stick and inserted it in her PDA, bringing up the information that it held. She nodded as she received confirmation of the deposit...79,002,232,134,668 USD,

then handed it to Errant so he could read it easily. She'd save the rest for later. It was more fun drawing it out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daveed too could sense and see those who remianed behind, attentuive to their higher calling. Mentally he straightened and gave them the crisp respectful salute thay had so rightfully earned. No greater love

You ask very much, ner vod. I am an old woman, meant to scare youth and manipulate them into maturity. Perhaps if I were younger, but my heart is no longer warm as my skin is no longer warm."

He couldn't help but laugh at that "Old? Never! And your heart is so very warm." He meant no insult, no disrespect to her hard earned through the years wisdom and powers... "and in the morning I think you'll find your skin as warm and comfy as you find your joints right now."

Errant stared at the case Mercy handed to him. He was face was blank with surprise as he mind was sorting out what was before him. Fifty-six small diamonds sat nestled inside the titanium case. Life Diamonds jumped out at him. They were a Tanaaran funerary practice though that was all he knew. Fifty-six was the number of dead aboard the CNS Rampart. He blinked and cast his eyes over towards the PDA, and his jaw dropped. Stunned, his mind dipped into Taung which was just as well because his mind was stunned enough that it was only cursing in amazement. "Usen'ye, vod'ika...Dar'yaim! Ner ka'rata..."

He took a moment, trailing off. He counted the number places again and again until the number and the dollar sign in front of it actually seemed real in his mind. His icy-blues were wide open when he looked up again. "Nu draar. Meg..." He cleared his throat and made his mind switch back to English. "What...what is this?"

The HMMWV convoy slowed to a stop as it reached the gates of the People's House. To the right of the gate was a parked M113 armored personnel carrier with a Marine manning automatic grenade launcher leveled on the road. To the left of the gate was another M113 with a heavy machine gun and another Marine intent on watching the convoy. A Marine lieutenant approached the lead HMMWV, a handful of rifleman covering him.

The lieutenant checked with the commander of the Miraade's Guard, Captain Geoffries, who was riding shotgun in the lead vehicle. The lieutenant nodded saluted the captain and stepped back. He waved waved his rifle squad back and ordered the gates opened. The convoys rolled through the gates.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba snorted at Daveed's words. Sure she'd be young, warm, and supple again, Lolimba thought, but that would require she die, return to Manda the mythosaur goddess, the All-Mother, the Creator and the Destroyer. Then her soul would have be swallowed by the strong, yet gentle jaws of Manda, her spirit judged, and if she were worthy enough Manda would enclose her enduring soul in the fragile eggshell of a body and return her to the realm of the living. Then, and only then, she would be young.

The Tanaaran was such a flatterer, she thought. "You are too kind, Daveed."

She felt the vehicle stop. "Ah, we are here already. Goran, has the Guard increased security again?"

"APCs now." The nephew said and leaned forward to look more closely at the People's House itself. "The snipers, rocketeers, and fire teams are still about." There were several soldiers on the roof tops patrolling or standing by their weapon systems. Fire teams wielding the versatile Modular Offensive Rifle, flanked the doorways. He craned his head sideways to look up through the windshield and spotted fighters above him, resembling sleek airbourne lawndarts in his mind. "Even Vipers making racetracks in the sky."

Lolimba nodded. "I thought I Felt more awareness and tense fingers above triggers than usual." He glanced over at Daveed. "The Miraade's Guard takes their duties quite seriously during times of armed conflict, and now doubly-so with the Queen now in-country."

"What...what is this?"

"A gift for Catawaba." She held up a forestalling hand, unwilling to lessen her delight by letting him protest under any apprehensions. Mercy was finding herself liking him more and more…

“It’s a gift with but one string attached. And I think that it is the string attached that your people will consider as making this the perfect gift. This is not a loan, it is not a bribe, it is not charity, nor is it ‘buying’ Catawaba. It is purely, and wholly, a gift.”

“With but one string” Here she caught and held his eyes “but I know that it will not be a string at all, not to you, not to your people. Pay it forward Errant. Some day you meet a nation that’s where you are now. Pass it along,” Her voice was soft. This wasn’t a gift of money, though that was the medium. No it was an intangible gift, that of Hope, and not just to the people of Catawaba, but to Errant himself. She could well guess the many night’s he’d tossed and turned wondering how, how and how to do the so much that was needed with so little. And the look on his face just now proved it to her. He wasn’t in the least greedy for himself, but for his people, for Catawaba, just as she was for Tanaara. And that is what would make him not merely a good ruler, but a great one. Hopefully his people would deserve him.

And between the merely money and what else was in route, Mercy could hope that she’d had the privilege of easing those many sleepless nights.

He looked from her to the PDA. "...trillions..." He looked down at it, stared past the pixels. His entire gross domestic product was just over a trillion gold credits, and a gold credit was something like two and half USDs. He was looking at...damn near...one hundred and ninety-seven trillion gold credits. He stopped as the numbers sank in. Mercy might not intend to buy Catawaba, but she probably could with this.

As the numbers turned into gold credits in his head, he beagn to plug them into spreadsheets and budgets that had been plaguing him night after night. He'd talked with every expert in every concerned field. He'd had them outline their needs and wishes, what they'd need to put Catawaba squarely on a road to accelerated growth. But he'd hit a roadblock everywhere. He didn't have the industrial capacity, the transportation, the health care, if you could name it he didn't have enough. Catawaba had just enough to be an effective colony entirely dependent on its masters but not enough to be self-sufficient nation. He'd bent rules, given incentives, enouraged, wheedled, and threatened businessman and bureaucrat alike.

He had been independently weathly before the Revolution. The only problem was he was illegally wealthy. He'd gained it all in the last years of his Togovian military career. Derailed to a dead-end assignment until he quit or died, he'd decided, at the urging of a corrupt quartermaster, to get a bit of revenge on Togovia and get rich at the same time. He'd sold a lot of Togovian material on the blackmarket. He'd sold the Rebellion and got rich at their expense. He hadn't joined them until he'd almost been caught. He escaped, and the Rebellion was the only group that harbor him. He hadn't been the ardent patriot to join because it was right. He'd joined because he had no where else to go. He wasn't proud of that. As a result he'd been investing every cent of his wealth into Catawaba, and even that hadn't been enough.

But nearly two hundred trillion...roads...modern airports...seaport...schools...univeristies...so many things flashed through his mind. With an active volcano on the north tip of Catawaba and being in a typhoon zone, he had money to lay aside to deal with inevitable disasters. He could get Dr. Henry Jones III off his back about protecting historical sites. Mrs. Petry would faint when she got a free reign to revamp the educational system and extend it to poor Catawabans and Taung who had never had it. To the orphans like him, Errant reflected, and he could really support the UN Orphan's Resolution with more than a personnel donation. Tom Waverly up at the War Office would wild when he found out he had a blank check to arm and secure Catawaba to update the military. Dr. Mickelson wouldn't have worry himself bald trying to figure out how to keep the cash crop industries working and feed the nation. He could stop going around the People's House every night to ensure unnecessary things were turned off to save on energy bills....he could change the entire country's energy system.

His mind was all over Catawaba as the HMMWV stopped in front of the People's House. He looked away from the PDA, and his fingers slid across the crimson Life Diamonds. He felt the engraving and read them silently under this breath. Captain Jaques Jocard. Lieutenant Junior Grade Karl Winslow. Technican First Rate Daphne Simpson.

The Miraade's eyes began to mist, and he closed his eyes. Corporal Salva was looking towards the Miraade through the rearview mirror. Members of the Miraade's Guard were moving down from the door of the People's House. Salva held up a hand signal to make them wait. They stopped in their tracks and stood, waiting.

Errant clenched his jaw, his eyes still held tightly closed. It was hard to bear. So many worries, long nights, angry diatribes against an unfair world...they were washing away...not gone, but they could be washed away. It wasn't just the money problems. It was the Fixty-Six. They'd hurt him, hurt hard. They'd died because he'd fielded them in substandard gear, substandard training. They'd acted with true bravery inspite of that. He had that guilt, but another of guilt was attached to them. They'd become another problem of his, another roadblock. It was shameful to think of these honored fifty-six as a problem, but he had. He'd lost fifty-six of his best naval personnel. Personnel he couldn't readily replace, and a ship he couldn't really afford to repair and refit. But...they weren't a problem. They would be missed, dearly so...but they weren't a demon in his mind to highlight another deficiency he could address.

"Mercy...if that's...if that's only string, then it's a string I'll tie around my finger so I'd never forget." He opened his eyes and looked back at the Queen. "My Lord, Mercy...Tanaara's not going to pay that lease on its land...I'll give it...and that's not how I'll begin to pay it forward."

Mercy sat quiet and let Errant settle in with the notion. She could see the weight lifting and her smile was gentle. And she could, as his finger traced over the names, see he was beginning to understand The Burden as well. It all came in threes, the burden, promise and price. Some times you must count the cost and in others you must not dare, but go forward and bear the burden when all was done. And any and every who had not stood there and sent others into harms way could ever understand, ever.

Her hand settled lightly atop his, just for a second, to reassure him it was not an imagining, a dream. She also knew that if he would not accept the lease payment on the lands, various Catawaban charities would be getting sizeable donations each year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daveed felt the huge spike in emotions from the vehicle ahead of them and smiled to himself. Mercy could never wait to give presents, her uncalculated generosity was one of the more special things about her.

"The Miraade's Guard takes their duties quite seriously during times of armed conflict, and now doubly-so with the Queen now in-country."

"And thats greatly appreciated. Mercy's had too many attempts on her life for us to be comfortable or lax." He commented softly as he took in the various measures with approving eyes.

Errant glanced down at Mercy's hand. He could feel her warmth in the brief touch on the back of his hand. He looked up at her, speechless for a moment. He looked past her and saw his Guards standing their patiently. "I should leave them standing. We can talk inside. Have you eaten yet?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the HMMWV now stopped behind the Miraade's, Goran opened his door and walked back to open the door for his aunt. Lolimba's attention was momentarily on the HMMWV in front of them, as she too Felt the surge of surprise, relief, gratitude, and content pleasure. What were they doing up there?

She pushed those Feelings aside. She turned her head to Daveed. "Errant thinks he is dispensible." Her voice dipped into a deeper masculine quality with a faux Catawaban twang. "I'm just a guy that stood up, pointed my gun at the enemy, and said 'follow me!'" Lolimba's imitation of her nephew ended as she returned to her normal softer, tremulous voice. "He is modest and niave in that respect...and that's why the people love him. He is them in many ways."

"To others...he is an avatar of Kad Ha'rangir, god of growth and change, son of the Creator Goddess Manda. He is the first to unite our people since Feen'shya gathered the tribes to repel the Togovians nearly three hundred years ago and failed. But unlike Feen'shya, he has succeeded like Bob'buir, the First Miraade."

She heard her door open. Goran reached in and took hold of her hand to guide and help her out. "I have pushed General Waverly to impose the heavy security that is Miraade's Guard. I know that no one else can rule Catawaba. In the future, most certainly, Errant will not rule forever...but now?" She shook her head.

"I should leave them standing. We can talk inside. Have you eaten yet?"

"What! You mean you don't have some state dinner planned?" She teased lightly, with well-hidden relief. She did want to meet the extraordinary people he'd found to make up his government at some point though.

"I'd love a sandwich with you in the kitchen." She added most sincerely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, they weren't making love, Daveed wanted to reassure Lolimba, but settled for a momentary Vulcan raising of an eyebrow. He was sure Errant would inform Lolimba as soon as he could. And the young Miraade deserved to be the bearer of the good tidings.

"I have pushed General Waverly to impose the heavy security that is Miraade's Guard. I know that no one else can rule Catawaba. In the future, most certainly, Errant will not rule forever...but now

Daveed heard the demanding of the universe plea in her voice, her need for her people, and did something for her that he very rarely did. Precognition was the least controllable, least reputable of the Donas- it tended to get those so Gifted killed, or at least stoned and driven out of town, and most greatly disliked by psionics because of that.

But for once he reached out, sought through the mists of so infinitely many possible futures, seeking the ones most likely for this man, this Miraade, Errant...and made memory of what he found.

Errant blinked at her for a moment, before his lips curled up. He bit his lips to hold in laughter as he opened the door and slid out of the HMMWV. He walked around to the other side where a Marine was opening the door for Mercy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mists of time swirled through Daveed's mind eye as he delved into the fortunes of Miraade Jedith Errant. As the mists cleared, a large monitor lizard came into view. The lizard was curled around something, and as it lifted its head, a nest of eggs, countless eggs could be seen. The lizard turned her head to pierce Daveed's mind were her yellow eyes. She opened her mouth. Her bottom jaw split in half, as each mandible was a seperate piece. It lowered its head and with the mandibles extended to each side, the shape presented to Daveed was the same as the mythosaur sull that graced the Catawaban flag. As it should be, this was a mythasaur but not just any mythosaur. Power, raw divine power flowed out from the mythosaur enveloped Daveed.

The mythosaur scooped up an egg that lay on the top of her pile and gingerly held it securely in her jaws. She swung her head around to face Daveed, holding out the egg in her jaws. <Take it, alor from a far.> A strong, disembodied female's voice echoed all around Daveed. <Stare into the surface there you shall find the answer you seek on the fate of my child.>

<Stare into the surface there you shall find the answer you seek on the fate of my child.>

Daveed went to one knee bowing humbly, his arms spreading wide with palms up, to the aspect of the Divine that presented itself. In that Realm he wore his deepest, original aspect, that of a princely priest of ancient Egypt. One who knew himself part of the Divine, part of all life and whose worship was an integral part of the weave of his life. More openly than it was now, though now was no less….

Thank you Mother. With reverence Daveed took the egg from between those jaws and cradled it carefully. He didn’t need to explain why he sought; for it was as much for his adopted people, the Tanarans as it was for Lolimba and the Catawaban people. They were going to be intertwined more closely than they were with most of their fellow region-mates,

Daveed felt his heart clench as the assassin shot Errant, feeling the pain, blunted by the hidden protective vest, but still indicating trauma to soft tissue, forceful blows that would take time to heal. Then he let out a sigh that could be heald in the real world and the faintest mutter of "Smart Man".

With another deep breath he settled himself back his minds eye seraching back though the mists for that chiraouscoed sky, land and water...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercy smiled and murmured a thank you to the Marine who opened the door, then accepted Errant's hand as she stepped out and down. She had always liked Hummer and the varients. You didn't have to climb up out of them. Mercy was ever so slightly taller than him and she found herself catching her breath as she realised that he was looking at her, not her breastworks. He hasn't been doing that at all she grinned to herself.

She looked over the Peoples House and the grin went even wryer "Oh my it is a 'pile' isn't it?" Her eyes twinkled and the grin with dimples flashing was infectious.

The egg looked like an ordinary reptilian egg, but it was made of a crystal that was very warm to the touch. As Daveed looked into the clear, translucent crystal egg, a whorl of light grew inside it.


Soon it cleared into an image of a dark library with Errant and Mercy talking and drinking brandy. Errant was pouring more brandy. It was momentary; a snippet of his voice could be heard. "...have more. It was the Viceroy's own...don't usually like brandy much, but hey, it tastes better knowing I have it and he doesn't."


The scene dissolved, and another took its place. This was outside in a plaza. A crowd of people were gathered, cheering Errant. The Miraade was walking through the crowd, shaking hands as his Guard cleared a path to his HMMWV. His smile was genuine, not forced, as he greeted his people. His Catawabans clamored for him, cheering, straining to touch him, save one.

She pushed out of the crowd. "Sic Sempre Tyrannis!" She screamed as she leveled the pistol at Errant. The assassin pulled the trigger, the barrel issued flame, and the Miraade stumbled back against one of his Guards. A second shot hit in the chest him, spinning him to face straight towards the assassin.

Even as the air rushed from him as the slugs hit his chest, his hand pulled at his pistol. He cleared it of the holster as he felt the assassin's third shot whiz past his ear. The Guard Errant had stumbled against sagged away from him. Errant began to fall back as his support left him. As he fell, he leveled his pistol at his assailant, taking a shot from the hip. The heavy .45 round slammed into the woman's throat much to her surprise, forcing her back.

Errant fell onto his Guard's body and bounced off to the side. His other Guards were finally able to get a clear shot in the crowd, and the assassin went down in a volley of fire from their MORs. With the threat gone, his Guard closed in around him and set up a perimeter. Captain Geoffries, Errant's detail commander, pulled at Errant's shirt, popping buttons to check his Miraade's wounds. The Captain sagged with relief. "Thank God...the vest isn't compromised." Geoffries signaled to another Guard. "Salva, get those Hum-Vees over here. Miraade gets the first. Put Wiggins's body in the second."

Geoffries stood up and stepped outside the close perimeter guarding the injured but living Miraade. "Gorram Liberalists..."

Salva stepped up beside him, sweeping the plaza and the surrounding buildings with her eyes. "You'd think after three failed attempts they learn not to mess with him."

Goeffries shook his head as he waved the HMMWVs towards them. "The Constitution failed referendum, and the Liberalists believe he engineered it and brainwashed the country so he could be Miraade for life...gorram Liberalists."

"Copy that, Sir. Gorram Liberalists." Corporal Salva said.


The crystal egg again whorled away that scene for another. It was a dark interior. Cold stone was the setting, and a man sat shackled to a chair. A heavy metal door creaked up, and the man peered into the bright rectangle of light, blinking to shield his brown eyes. A figure stepped into the room, silhouetted against the light. Errant's voice rang on the cold stone. “Derrick Holmes, you are charged with thirty-seven murders, severity increase factor: Military Personnel or Law Enforcement Officer. You are charged with twenty-three counts of murder, severity increase factor: Governmental Official. You are charged with ninety-six charges of murder.”

Errant stared in at the man and stepped inside and to the side so man’s face was no longer in shadow. Derrick Holmes remained unmoved. “You might noticed you are not charged with two separate attempts on my life, the attempted murder of my sister Beta Miraade Rea Vipe, the attempted murder of my aunt Secretary for Foreign Affairs Lolimba Bevu, the attempted murder of my… the Tanaaran ambassador Mercedez Hexx, the attempted murder of other soldiers, lawmen, and civilians, the numerous aggravated assault charges, and hell all the way down to resisting arrest and jaywalking.”

“You might have not pulled the triggers or detonated the bombs, but you incited all your…zealots to do it all. But ya know what the worst crime is, Derrick?” He took a step forward and leaned in. “Everything we worked for, the entire Liberalist cause…it’s done, you ruttin’ git. It’s dead and you killed it.”

Holmes’s face screwed up, and Errant heard rasp in the man’s throat and jerked back as the shackled man spit at him. Errant looked down in disgust at the spittle on his Marine BDU tunic. Holmes sneered. “I didn’t kill it. You did, autocrat! You killed the Constitution, you bastard! But it’s what you wanted; because now you’re king, excuse me, Miraade for life! You allowed the idiots to vote it down!”

Errant snarled and snapped Holmes’s head around to the left with a right hook. “I didn’t allow the citizens of Catawaba to do a damn thing but vote their conscience. What do you expect me to do? ‘You’ll have political freedoms and like it’?”

Holmes opened his mouth, but Errant delivered a punishing backhand that snapped the man’s head to the right. “Don’t give me yer lip unless you want to it bloodied, buddy boy, ‘cuz I ain’t finished.”

The Miraade lowered his hand to his side, still in a quivering fist. “Catawaba doesn’t want bureaucracy, they’ve spoken on that. It ain’t a surprise really. They haven’t self-governed once, an’ the only people pushin’ it are fur’iners and me.” His speech slipped into a rougher Southern dialect as he grew angrier.

Holmes laughed cruelly, spraying droplets of blood from his split lips. “And we thought having your support would actually mean something.”
Errant snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t mean a damn thing if the people really disagree. Referendums? Popular recalls? All put in by us to counteract the power of the government so I ain’t got that long a’ leash, and y’all never got the way Catawabans deadpan and ridicule. They may respect me, but they mostly don’t see the need to leave lipmarks on the seat of my trousers.”

His lips lifted again, baring his teeth. “And now? They don’t want a damn thing to do with Liberalism or a representative republic. They were disinclined before, but because you and your group of Liberalist nutbirds they’re equating Liberalist with terrorist. Liberalism is synonymous with anarchist. Hell, it’s a insult now that starts fights.”

“The moderates and me can’t do anything now…I thought we might be able to slowly back door the stuff in over time when the people were more comfortable with it” He shook his head. “I’ve already read the petitions for popular referendums. Congratulations, Derek, you’ve made a lovely self-fulfilling prophesy. If it passes, and I have little doubt it will considerin’ your murderous rampage to ‘raise the people against my iron-fisted amoral dictator,’ I will take supreme power over the nation. I will retain the powers of the executive, gain the powers of the legislative with the Representative Assembly becoming an advisory council, and I will become the most supreme member of the judiciary.”

He glared down at Derek. “There, buddy boy, there. Now you can call me an autocrat and not be insulting me.”

“If it pains you so, resign!”

“You think I don’t want to? Do you think I wanted this? I never wanted this power. I wanted to be a general maybe, sail around the island as a bum certainly! However, an overwhelming majority of the people asked me to lead them, and now they’ve asked me to be a monarch. The most fundamental principle of Liberalism is that governments rule at the will of the people, empowered through their collective social contracts. This is their will, were they addressed their social contracts. Remember that you arrogant windbag?” His voice had built to a roar as his rage at the murderous traitor sitting before him.

Derek rolled his eyes. “It was all on track until that Tanaaran bitch came. A blow in your ear and you’re stepping around the Constitutional Convention to poll the ‘common man,’ hold town hall meetings, encourage the plebes to speak their mind. What are they going to say? They’re weak peasants! The pay off that heathen slut is giving you ought to make all of them fat and happy. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have some of it and then there’s the slut herself and how you and she…” Errant’s rage ran over.

He brought his leg up, and for a moment, Holmes was sure the Miraade was going to start kicking him. A split second’s relief rushed through him as the foot slammed back to the ground. That split-second relief was shattered as something stabbed into his leg and twisted. Derek screamed out and looked down to see a knife standing up out of his thigh. Blood was beginning to soak in a oval around the knife.

Errant leaned back in, a malevolent light in his icy blues which seemed a few shades colder towards insanity. “You reckon I’m a puppet on Mercy’s string, Derek, but ya know what? I don’t think she’d want me to stick my boot knife in ya. Might’ve wanted to do it to ya herself, not sure about that, but I figure she’d have tried to stop me. Why? ‘Cuz she’s a better person than I am, buddy boy.” He pulled the knife out quickly, prompting another scream from Holmes. He swiped both sides of the blade across Holmes’s pant leg.
He stepped back and knelt to slip the boot knife back in its sheath. Holmes was breathing fast, scared, furious. “You psycho! You going to kill me before trial, aren’t you? Some kangaroo court where it won’t come out that you’re a torturous son of a…”

“Private Howser, step in here please!” Errant barked over his shoulder as he stood up.

A tall brunette woman stepped into the cell from where she’d been standing just outside the doorway, her hand near her sidearm. “Sir?”

“Private Howser, Mister Holmes is bleeding. What did you see occur prior to his bleeding.” Errant never took his cold blue eyes off Holmes.

“I saw the prisoner lunge up from his seat and make for the Miraade’s pistol, sir. I saw the Miraade strike him several times in the face in attempt to ward off the prisoner’s attack. The prisoner grappled with the Miraade, and since the man was too close to safely draw and fire his weapon, the Miraade drew a knife from his boot and proceeded to subdue the man with one stab wound to the side.”

“Very detailed, Private. But how did the prisoner escape his shackles?”

“I must have dropped a hairpin, sir.” Private Howser’s bangs were held back by two hairpins.

“That is most distressing. You know Colonel Quigley escaped a Togovian prison with a hairpin, pocket lint, and a wet towel? You must be more careful, Private.”

“I apologize, sir. I will take more care to ensure I have lost no hairpins near prisoners.”

Holmes blinked in shock and disgust at the farce. Errant nodded to the private, who exited the cell again. “You planned this! I don’t care what sort of lies you spout. They’ll hear about this. The UN will hear about this!”

“The UN?” Errant laughed, sounding like a glacier cracking. “To everyone it’ll be the word of murderer who ordered terrorists to fire into packed crowds or blew up street corners to kill individual persons against my word and that of a good soldier.”

His eyes searched Holmes’s face. “You piss me off, kill my people, try to kill me and people I love and care about…and what do you think I’m going to do? Let that slide? I’m holding back a lot not to kill you now, but there’re a lot of families that deserve to see you hang for the murders of their loved ones. You’ll get a fair trial, but you’re going to die after it, Derek. I swear it. The amount of evidence you and your minions left behind? I’ll enjoy seeing you hang.”

The prisoner looked aghast. “I’ll be a martyr! If you kill me, I’ll become more powerful than you can…”

Errant rolled his eyes and turned to walk out. “That’s a poor bluff, Holmes, and I’ll call ya on it.”
~~

The egg’s interior swirled again becoming more opaque.

The mythosaur again spoke up, her voice echoing from everywhere. <The future grow more murky…the further you peer into it. Uncertain…too many paths to take. Have you seen enough or do you wish for more? It comes less certain…more liable to change.>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not that Errant hadn't stolen glances at her 'breastworks,' he was male after all. He had however learned long ago that gaping was not acceptable in the company of ladies. As a buck private, he'd made the mistake of gaping at his squad sargeant Ralla Fyatt, now General Ralla Fyatt of the Marines, needless to say she taught him better manners. His calves ached as he remembered how she'd had him push her and a HMMWV around the post while she read and had him repeat a book on how to be a gentleman.

He turned and followed Mercy's gaze. He smiled a bit, a little self-conscious. "Yes...it's quite a 'pile' of what I'll let you define." The People's House, the former Viceroy's Palace, was a broad red-brick manor. Tall cathedral windows seperated by white marable columns covered the face of the House. Errant had always thought it was a bit obstentatious, but so had a former Togovian emperor who had executed the serving Viceroy when it was found out the Viceroy was building this extravagant palace. The Viceroy's Palace subsequently became an Imperial Estate, stewarded by the reigning Viceroy, and the Emperor's Togovian Palace entered a period of massive additions and renovations.

But whatever he thought of it, it was the Catawaban People's, and they'd let him live here. There was a lot of pride in that and allowed him to over look all the misgivings he had about living in it from the cost of upkeep on the place, to the staff overhead, to the basic idea of living in a 'hopped-up cathouse' as Errant had once termed it.

<The future grow more murky…the further you peer into it. Uncertain…too many paths to take. Have you seen enough or do you wish for more? It comes less certain…more liable to change.>

[i]<I understand Great mother, and I thank you for what you have let me see so far. I know that we too shall do our best to help protect your son.>[i]
Daveed loosed his old on the imagry, onceagain prostrating himself before the Divine. Whith a gentler indrawn breath his eyes cleared and she was looking at the mundane world again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes...it's quite a 'pile' of what I'll let you define."

"Someone made a hefty profit on bricks? But a nation does need a national house, and a "two two" flat with assigned parking just doesn't cut it." She wrinkled her nose at him and added. "I just tend to prefer native stone to brick. But some one spent some time making this grand..." She tried to find something nice to sy about it. "I'm sure the rooms are very comfortable" She bit her lower lip trying not to laugh

"Ah! It makes it a lot easier when you live where you work. I should know. The Roayl palace is even bigger than this" She leaned foreward and whispered in his ear "Don't tell any one but we built our equivallent of the pentagon in the basement." When she leaned back he could tell she was serious even though her eyes were twinkling. Though he might well guess that the basement ws most seriously several hundred feet under ground.

She let him escort her up the step and in through the lavish entryway. She wondered how much of the interior decor had survived the final assault.

Lolimba was stock still her cloudy white eyes were locked on Daveed's living eyes. "You have seen Her lair, Daveed. I know that touch of destiny that swirls about one in Her presence." She leaned in, Feeling the energies about him. "What were you doing to have Her call you to Her?"

~~~~~~~~

Errant sighed a long suffering sigh. "The Viceroy was trying to copy some other palace...Bagton Court, Hamshot Palace...some palace somewhere, but the architect mucked it up something fierce. Almost a shame to thing that Viceroy got killed for this...eyesore."

The Miraade glanced over face of the building. It wasn't in the best of condition. He'd managed to avoid shelling it because Hayden Seigfried had forced the Viceroy to flee after a botched attempted to capture him. However, there was still bullet holes and some minor damage from stray shots during the seige on the Palace. Additionally in the marable stone work on the columns between and around the windows some spots looked like carvings had been hacked away, rather roughly. That had been done to remove a rather gratuitious collection of Togovian symbols.

"Don't tell any one but we built our equivallent of the pentagon in the basement."

Errant glanced sidelong at her, a slight grin on his face. He leaned in and lowered his voice. He didn't have to be so secret here. "To be fair, my situation and briefing room is here in the House. Our different branches have their own admin buildings scattered across the city, but our command and control as well as the 'War Office' is...well somewhere that really rocks." He leaned back out his grin, growing larger.

The 'War Office' was a bunker hidden in the mountain spine along the entire island. It was, suffice to say, towards the north where the peaks grew taller as they neared the volcano, Tryn'yc. The bunker was a secret one built by the Togovians, that they'd stumbled upon during the Revolution. Only a relatively small number of Catawabans knew it existed, and Errant reckoned most of the Togovians that knew were dead.

As they crossed into entry hall of the House, They were beaten upon by the rather gaudy panelling that was painted scenes bordered by gold paint. Across from the entryway a collection of native plants were arranged, covering some of the gaudy wall coverings. They also covered a level band of bullet holes that had been fired when breaching the Palace. That was really the extent to the damage. The Viceroy and his guards had fled by the time the Catawabans had breached the door. It was only nerves, fire selectors on automatic, and a couple of extremely nerves pointmen that had done it.

"If there some of those gold credits you gave us left over...I'm really thinking of blowing some of it on remodelling this place..."

"What were you doing to have Her call you to Her?"

'Searching ahead. Errant has more than just a touch of destiny about him. He is a son of the Dragon." Daveed said calmly, but his voice was low, almost said to just himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"If there some of those gold credits you gave us left over...I'm really thinking of blowing some of it on remodelling this place..."

"Actuilly there is good reason to tear this down and build anew. Right now it's a symbol of victory, but in a year or two, it might reemerge as a Togovian symbol, leaving a bad taste in more than a few mouths. Perhaps you might want to think about a Catawaban architect designing a true People's House. Something more in keeping with Catawaba and it's people." Mercy said as she looked about, privately agreeing that the architect ought to have been the one hung. Though she liked seeing the mass of plants some one had brought in.

"An atrium, or conservatory, to showcase such lovely plants would be very nice. Are they local?"

Outside the People's House

Lolimba nodded. "Manda, the Great Mythosaur, guards the destinies of Her children closely and allows glimpses into them rarely. You have been honored."

She turned her head towards the House. "All Catawabas are Her children. Some are, however, like her first born. They are close to her blood, her divine line...alor and miraade are such beings. I am such a being...but a finite, so very precious few...they are Her Blood...directly from her womb it is said."

Her voice lowered to but a whisper, reverant. "I do know he is the Mythosaur's Son. I have been in her presence before. I recognize her scent, her Feeling...Errant has it too...to a degree."

~~~~~~~~
Inside the People's House

"It would please me greatly to be able to launch at couple of grenades into this heap...and I know a guy who'd think it was Christmas, Saint Valentine's Day, New Years, Liberation Day, and Saint Guinefort's Day all in one if I let him blow the place to smithereens." Errant grinned and glanced towards the East Wing where the guy named JK Explodem was probably sitting straight up in his seat as a feeling of deja kabloomie passed over him, which is sort of like deja vu with fire and loud booms in your head.

"An atrium, or conservatory, to showcase such lovely plants would be very nice. Are they local?"

Errant smiled and led her over to the plants. "Yes, they're native to Catawaba. Red Mangroves." The woody, whorled-leaved trees sat in long troughs half filled with brakish water. Errant looked over the mangrove trees happily. Some people thought Mangroves were an ugly knarled tree that were synonymous with swamps. The Miraade happened to like the look of them, and admired their tenacious ability to adapt and survive in a range of enviroments and water salinities.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aboard the CNS Intrepid
About 250nm from Catawaba

Admiral Josiah Starkey closed the folder on his after-action report. He looked up and stared out over the sea, gentle in the waining light.

"Sir, Radar contacts! Twelve targets coming in fast from land." The radar tech reported.

Starkey turned his head to his com tech. "Best query them, PO. Most likely the Air Force squadron ordered to give us cover."

They hadn't been bereft of air cover. The Tanaarans had Combat Air Patrols going over them all the time, even better when those fresh pilots that had been escorting their Queen arrived. However, the Air Force wanted to do their part. "Patch it over the ship's intercom when it comes through, PO."

"Aye, sir." The petty officer tuned to a channel used frequently by the Air Force. "Incoming Aircraft, you are approaching the airspace of the Coalition Fleet. Identify yourself. This is callsign Hometown Hero."

The intercom hissed and then squacked as a tinny, electronic voice came over it. "Hometown Hero, this is Big Band." Callsigns were correct as they'd been sent out this morning by the War Office, and just as rediculous as a callsign written out by the War Office another unofficial authenticator. "Hometown Hero, the Miraade's got the candle in the window for ya and asked us to walk ya home."

Even over the tinny speakers, Starkey could make out the good-humored tone of Colonel Matthew 'Juju' Quigley. "It's good to hear you, Big Band One."

"Oh, good guess, Hometown Hero." Quigley's smile could be heard in his voice. "You'll see us soon enough. Sorry to take so long, you squids gotta remember to pack your aircraft carriers if you want some thinking men along for the ride."

Twelve pointy F-17 Vipers roared in closer. Two flights of four were high in a good covering position. The third flight of four was low to the seas. As it neared the finger four formation slowed. The Viper just to the right and back from the lead plane jerked up quickly and climbed. It pulled up out of formation quickly before banking hard into the sun and hitting its afterburner. The other three held formation as they had before the one Viper left.

Starkey watched solemnly as the Missing Man Formation passed by. The rest of the bridge was quiet as well. The three fighters were well away from the Intrepid when Quigley broke the silence. "Just a few more hours, mates. Don't you worry; we've got your skies covered. Catawaba looks after its own, eh? Big Band, out."

Starkey turned his head and looked at the setting sun. He could barely see the speck of the lone Viper turning to rejoin its flight. He followed it idly. Twelve aging Vipers might not be much compared to the ultra-modern aircraft from Tanaara that had been covering them thus far, but seeing those comparatively obsolete birds had a bit of comfort. They were almost home...

Yes, they're native to Catawaba. Red Mangroves."

"Oh I've never seen one up close, but the immense nunmber of mangroves found on BLue Anthem's souther border is making some of our special ops types very cranky. But the forestry boys won. No tearing the mangroves up and out." She chuckled and explained "The trees tend to win. We like our outdoors the way it came. Though we'll do improvements where needed."

"So which way to the kitchen? You do know here it is, don't you" She teased, as she looked at the murals and barely refrained from shuddering.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I do know he is the Mythosaur's Son. I have been in her presence before. I recognize her scent, her Feeling...Errant has it too...to a degree."

"Errant has a Destiny, and he'll need all the advice you can give. But don't worry about that Lolimba, you'll see his son grown" Daveed hadn't known that untill he'd said it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Big Band this is Two Lady Light" Lt Cmndr Linda Piccolo, current CAG for the Tanaaran fighters aloft, swaped call signs with the Catawaban Vipers. "I've been ordered to come home unless you all'd like some company for awhile."

"Also Colonel, you're at Angels enough that you might to get a visual on what looks like a battle fleet moving to intercept. Don't think it's gone pearshaped, that just a small gift arriving a couple of days early. They made better time than expected. And yes we know they aren't showing on your radars yet. They're at full effect Philadelphia."

Errant's mind already had conditioned a set of mental blinders. He heardly realized there were murals any more. "I know how your SpecOps troopers feel. I operated in mangrove swamps all the time when I was still leading a Marine Boarding Team. They're a dense pain in the ass, perfect for hiding in because they grow on every spit of land possible. Most of my admiration and like for them is the respect for a tough, determined enemy."

He turned sharply leading Mercy towards a side corridor off the entry hall. "And of course I know where the durn kitchen. I only sneak down there every night for a snack when I can't sleep." The Guard split off once they were inside the House. Only Corporal Salva stayed with them as the two rulers went to the kitchen. The rest were going to the Guard Tower, which was particularly ugly tower meant to be used as lavish bedrooms with unsettling circular room plans. Errant had hated it right off but realized that it had a great command of the grounds and assigned the Guard headquarters to the Tower. The Miraade's Guard went to divest themselves off all their battle gear which they didn't need on all the time in the confines of the House.

~~~~~~~

A shiver passed over Lolimba's shoulders. She might have thought it was her thin Taung blouse, except for the firm, certain tone in Daveed pronouncement. She smelt the faint musk that alor had always associated with the Mythosaur herself. "His...son?" And full grown? I'm not getting any younger so he'd have to born pretty quick. Lolimba stopped, stock still, for a few beats as innuendo crossed through her mind.

She looked over at the Miraade's HMMWV, remembering the emotions she'd felt. She then looked in at the House. No...they couldn't have...he wouldn't...she...the first meeting? Not an hour after the first meeting? Had they been exchanging more than diplomatic messages the past few days and I didn't know?

~~~~~~~

"Two Lady Light, this is Big Band One. First rule of military aviation, ya gotta pay attention to those with nice costume jewelry on their lapels." Colonel Quigley glanced down at his radar screen, grinning. "If they would like you to be home by a certain hour, as much as we'd enjoy the company, I don't want to be blamed for keeping you out past your bedtimes." All pilots had to rib each other. It was a rite of greeting, a friendly game of buttsniffing and staring contests.

Quigley heard a voice come over his squadron channel. "Hey, Boss, what do they mean by 'full Philadelphia.'?"

Matt switched over to the squad's channel. "It's a bit above your paygrade, Four." He'd had that moment of confusion as well until a urban legend clicked into his head, 'the Philadelphia Experiment.' Though apparently it wasn't an experiment or a legend any more, he loked outside the cockpit and saw a crowd of narrow pins on the horizon. "Suffice to say...I've heard tell that it's quite a 'moving' expierence to see it in operation, and most sailors would give an arm and a leg to be a part of a ship going through that..."

He banked slightly to bring his heading towards the pins on the horizon, the other battlegroup. The Tanaarans seemed pretty cool about it, but he wanted to have a peak and quiet his own suspicions before he passed on his unspoken approval for it being around.

The approaching fleet was just as advertised. His radar never aquired them, and even visually he had trouble seeing anything more than what looked very much like a mirage. During the night watch the new arrivals incercepted and surrounded the two limping fleets. The airwaves were alive with traffic as Admiral Stillwater was briefed in on the new arrivals. They formed a unneeded but symboilic cordon of honor about the injured warriors.

They also let Admiral Stilwater know that four of the monsterous, but much slower, floating repair docks were enroute with a full compliment of shipyard staff and materiels. And and many freighters loaded with technological goodies as could be readied in the time frame accompanied them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh if you decide to raze it, have your explosives expert do it as an implosion and televise it. We imploded a sports stadium last year, had a live crowd and televised it." Mercy grinned "It had better ratings than I did that day."

At Errants quizzical look she laughed more as he waved an arm at the kitchen asw if to say 'see I told you' "Three times a week I read to the children of Tanaara, a broadcast that lasts an hour."

She had slept peacefully her dreams light and pleasant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daved read the look on her face clearly. His voice was soft but full of laughter "Lolimba you're going to live at least another thirty years, in good health with no more aches and pains. Further more" He leaned over and whispered in her ear "They were riding in a chauffered hummer with no privacy. I think both of them are far more decorous than that. May I escort you in?" he offered his arm just as her nephew did, so she could take it if she chose. Though Mercy is going to have to get over her fear before she'll allow anything to happen. He looked at Errant and Mercy disappearing into the People House and worried over that.

Big Band circled overhead long into the night. By the time the squadron had gotten tired of Colonel Quigley's game 'I Spy with My Gorgeously Handsome, Deep Blue, Hawk-like Eye," incidently most of the objects began with letter 'W' and were in fact the water below them, another F-17 squadron cruised out from Catawaba.

They exchanged salutes through their canopies, stated who relieved who of what, and Quigley's 1st Tactical Squadron turned towards Air Force Base Neshoba. The fresh F-17s resumed the CAP overhead over night.

Tomorrow, perhaps the afternoon if the damaged ships kept their pace, but tomorrow the Fleet'd be home and safe.

And the scene at sea faded to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After an enjoyable talk and sandwich in the kitchen of the People's House, Mercy and Errant adjourned to the Library. There the both of them sat up talking late into the night, sipping on the former Viceroy's brandy, and talking about anything that came to mind.

It was hard when night fell to quit each other's company. It wasn't until they heard twelve F-17s streaking back to AFB Neshoba that they realized how long they'd been sitting there talking. Errant guided Mercy to her lavish guest room, the room of the Viceroy's mistress or so he'd been told but she need not worry for it had been thuroughly cleaned.

Errant returned to his suite, ordered his secretary Miss Jessica Lepur to stop working, and retired to his room. He could have walked on air for how they day went...except he was still denser and heavier then air, gravity still had effect, and he was a rather poor lifting body while standing up. It had been an incredible day full of up and downs, but mostly ups Errant reckoned.

The Miraade went to sleep and for the first time in a long time slept the whole night through. Miss Lepur who peaked on him to insure he wasn't sleeping clothed on top of the sheets again, could have swore he was smiling while he slept.

And the bedroom scene faded to red.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba and Daveed also talked at length. They however had dinner at an actual table, and then they adjourned to a balcony with a view of Graceland's harbor. The two mentors, spiritualists, and advisors discussed their charges, their faiths, and the world in general. Unlike their charges, they did part ways at a decent hour.

Lolimba still felt her age and the sleep that it required. She went to her room with the help of her nephew. She readied herself for bed, wondering about the things Daveed had revealed about Errant. She climbed into her Taung hammock and drifted off, her thoughts on the divine, Errant, his future son, and Daveed's own words about her own life.

As she drifted off, she could almost swear she smelt a reptilian musk about her and hear her Mother's voice. <Do not doubt my love for you, ad'ika. However, you shall not be with me for a time more. The path between us has taken an unexpected detour courtesy of the alor from afar...but it is not an unwelcome detour, ad'ika. You will live to see great things...great things...>

And the divine scene faded to green.


OOC: Thus ends this day and chapter in the thread. We'll now pause for others that we've invited to join if they wish.

And this post script fades to magenta.

Greetings from the Principality of Damirez,

In light of the recent regrettable events and in order to insure avoidance of similar developments in the future but also as to secure understanding and cooperation between our nations, The Principality of Damirez would like to attend to a diplomatic meeting that would clarify and resolve the current state of animosity that exists between your countries and some of our closest allies.

Best regards,
Emilian Davout, Foreign Minister.


--

Sleepless nights… disturbing nightmares… more work than he could handle… the perfect environment for brewing trouble or such would have been the case if not for the fact that Andrew Wallenstein was used to the rigors of a life on the road so to call it. It was obvious that being constantly on the move, having to watch your every step and move was not something easy to do, but it was a requirement that all diplomats were used dealing with. One innocent joke, one mindless remark could get you in trouble for such was the nature of the world he lived in. And if it were for his actions to affect only him, then it would have been something different, but, representing the billions back home, he knew that the consequences of his actions could be dire.

At the moment he was however a happy man. Following the TFEI peace treaty conference and the Theeb conference, where he had managed to forego his credo and do some rather regrettable deeds, he was now heading back home. Although he knew a plane would have gotten him home faster, he needed all the time he could get to prepare a justification for his actions and ignoring perhaps over half of the written and unwritten rules of diplomacy, ”I don’t even want to think about it,” he whispered softly to the barren wall of the cabin when a knock at the door interrupted his musings.

”Sir, if I may,” a pleasant looking female officer interrupted him, obviously amused by the laziness of the man or perhaps trying to hide her envy of his privileged position. ”The captain invites you on the deck, it seems there are some rather interesting developments that need to be brought to your attention,” she stopped for a second, ”Do you require an escort?” she finally asked, knowing that it was not uncommon for visitors to get lost in the bowels of the ship, even though she couldn’t understand what was so hard about navigating through those narrow corridors. Perhaps it had to do something with land lovers, she assumed, knowing she’d probably never unlock this mystery.

”No,” came the blunt reply before his diplomat training kicked in and he added something, ”Thank you, but I am familiar enough with the ships of this class not to have any troubles navigating through its corridors.”

”As you wish sir. If I may be excused,” and with this answer the woman left the room, heading towards her other duties. It was dangerous to leave a civilian unsupervised, but there were exceptions to the rule and Wallenstein was one of those exceptions.

”Now to see what the captain wants from me…”

--

On the deck of the carrier, for that was what the Victoria was, a sister carrier to the Nova Maria, the captain of the ship waited for his guest to make an appearance. He was not exactly happy about his assignment, ‘babysitting’ as he called it, but he had to do what he had to do. ’Speaking of the wolf,’ the captain thought to himself as the diplomat entered his refuge, ”Welcome to the bridge mister Wallenstein, I’ve been waiting for you.”

”I apologize for the wait,” Andrew started, ”I came here as fast as I could.”

”Good,” the captain responded sharply, ”It seems that we now have a new assignment.”

The short explanations that followed didn’t leave Andrew happy. Once again he was going to have to deal with a delicate situation and he wasn’t happy about it at all. He understood however the need for these actions to be taken, the political connections that the Principality had all but dictating that something had to be done and history taught them that it was better to take action and prevent the current state of affairs from taking an unwanted note later on. The circumstances for creating strong diplomatic ties to the Tanaarans and Catawabans weren’t exactly the best, but he had to do with what he had at his disposal.

”We’ll see where this takes us,” he told the captain of the ship as they headed towards a new destination. His vacation had to wait a bit more.

--

OOC: Not exactly happy about this post, but it would have to do.

Stwardess' Office, Stewardship's Residence; Palace of the Revolution, Tailville DR
Stewardess of the Revolution Christine Friedrich, all told, had decidedly not been sleeping very well lately herself either. Her position was different from Andrew's; namely, that of the woman who'd made the best judgment call she could've on what information she'd had at the time. However, that still didn't make it the right call; not by any stretch of the imagination. And in fact, her timing could only have been worse had it been just a bit delayed; but that would've occasioned things likely so awful that they didn't particularly bear thinking about even in her current foul mood.

After reading some relevant State Department dispatches, including those from Damirez, Christine soon realized something was up in Catawaba. Something which, though secrecy was indeed possible about and had indeed largely worked in this case, she could sense was too important to be ignored all the same. And most importantly of all, could not under any circumstances be ignored by herself in particular.

Picking up her office phone, she dialed her common-law husband and deputy Vice-Steward Consort Charles Lind; he had more work to do it seemed at the moment. He was going to be thrilled, surely. "Honey, pick up; I can hear you over here and you're not asleep." Knowing him as long as she had she could tell one snore from another.

"Chrissy..." Charles wrenched himself up out of the neo-Napoleonic styled bedsheets and dry scrubbed a hand through his unruly (and balding) brown hair. Fiddling for his glasses he found them and, going over his by now mountain-man like beard once on reflex he continued. "Somehow I doubt this is good."

"Indeed not dear. I have to go a while, and for that time you're in charge." She still sounded very young compared to her real age, which even she was starting to lose track of at times; a consequence of the twenty years lost by her land to some metaphysical disaster that had removed them from most of existence itself for those decades. A woman whom to all appearances was in her early thirties, but like her husband well old enough to be a grandparent by the calendrical reckoning of it, Christine Friedrich was making only what attempts she could at condolence at this hour; which were paltry due to her own black mood at the time. "You know where the football is and the list of other Affairs of State within the time I expect to go." Not for nothing had she been up clearing her itinerary these past few hours.

"Dear..." He had to tread carefully, for he'd long ago learned how stubborn she was. Not that he minded, either; not usually. "Are you so sure about this? From what I understand of the situation you're not exactly gratis personae over there right now." His habit of understatement was creeping in again. "Without even your guard detail and that blade Scarlet had made for you?" Charles hardly went anywhere without his own shira saya style blade, a gift of a friend long gone; yet equally one still defying the odds and beyond reach of her enemies. Christine's own jian style weapon would be safe here, in the same sense that a ship is safe in port; but neither ships nor swords were made for safety.

"I am. Charles, this is about trust; I don't know that for certain but all the same..." Christine had to be careful here, for she'd overestimated once before recently; the whole reason they were having this conversation now. "...I can sense that's what it's about, or else what it should be anyway. And right now, we're the ones who have to reestablish that. What's the only way to have a friend, dear?" Christine knew he'd pick that up no problem.

Charles sighed as he rolled back onto his back, all of maybe twenty meters away with at most two walls between them. "To be one, I know. I still don't like it." Not merely by nature of being a relative loner, he'd also learned his next maxim from decades of politics. "You can't befriend everyone Chrissy; and if you try, you'll drive yourself to ruin." Charles could name several politicians whom he'd consigned to the 'Enemies List' long ago, not that he particularly felt like going over those even to himself on a subliminal level at the moment; it wasn't so much long as rather simply the mark of an accomplished man: for having attracted equally-powerful enemies and in no small number either.

"Maybe not Charlie." Christine rarely used his familiar name outside of certain contexts, but it did happen in the abstract. "But this time I have no choice but to try. We have to start asserting ourselves again here; we've started subordinating our interests to others', and if we keep it up we may not have any but others' before long." No particular mention was required of whom she was speaking, and whom she thought within this residence had done his own part long ago in placing their nation in that position even if her own role hadn't been minor either. "I won't allow that Charles; nor would you, I suspect." She felt the jab had to end there. "I'll be off to make what connections I must after another communique, goodnight and I'll see you when I'm back."

"Goodnight darling." With that, the click on the other end signaled Christine's pending departure and Charles' pending momentary return to charge of his nation. Sensing that it was going to be a long few days, he got back to sleep knowing Chrissy wouldn't mind. He would need it, surely...

Revolutionary Commonwealth of Wagdog Official Communication

From: The Desk of the Stewardess, Christine Lind Friedrich
To: Foreign Minister Davout, Principality of Damirez
CC: Relevant Authorities in the Domination of Tanaara, Armed Republic of Catawaba, &c.
Encryption: Top Secret/Cipher: Red-Nine-Omega-Zulu-Shch

I've learned of your efforts on our behalf, Minister, and am humbled. However, to ease your burden and offer what I am able to assist this cause of peace, I myself should attend these discussions; in the capacity of a guest of the Principality if possible, so as to ease any suspicions related to my presence. I expect to arrive by air in Damirez and from there make my way to Catawaba by transport of your government's choosing.

Further to that effect, I am coming unarmed and alone but for those involved in my transportation; an unusual departure from my normal practice but a necessary one I believe. Trust lost must be earned back, and indulging ill will by acting as if expecting it be shown strikes me as a poor beginning to such effort. I understand my position in this matter, and as such simply ask that I be allowed to begin correcting it on my nation's behalf as well as my own.

In Sincerest Hopes,
Christine L. Friedrich
Stewardess of the Revolution, Revolutionary Commonwealth of Wagdog
Secretary-President, RCW Supreme Directory

The People's House
One Catawaba Plaza
Graceland, Catawba

It was still the middle of the night. The Miraade would have slept the whole night through it wasn't for his secretary, Miss Jessica Lepur. She opened the door and stepped into the room. "Miraade? Miraade Errant?" Her husky voice echoed slightly in the grand Miraade suite.

A groggy head lifted from the bed. "Jess? What it's...what time is it?"

"Still night, sir. I apologize, but there's been several diplomatic messages." Jessica moved over and placed her hand over the light switch. "Watch your eyes, sir." She flipped the switch and turned around.

Errant was shielding his eyes with an arm and propping himself up with the other. "Something wrong with Lolimba?" Lolimba should have been the first woken up, and she should have been the one waking him up if it got above her field of responsibility. She was the Secretary for Foriegn Affairs after all.

Miss Lepur strode, her high heels clicking on the polished wood floors, over to a ornate chair that the Miraade had thrown his robe over last night. She picked it up and held it out for him to get into. He blinked at her. She was fully dressed, heels and skirt suit. It was only her scarlett hair, which was usually immaculate, that hinted she'd even been to sleep tonight. "Goran says she was feeling...indisposed before bed. He thinks she shouldn't be disturbed."

A tired Errant gave Jessica a tired look. "So...the opinion of the Foriegn Secretary's aide makes it okay to wake up the chief executive?"

"She is elderly, sir, and you are young." She shook the robe to give him a hint to get in. He sighed and throw off the sheets. Jessica didn't look away as the Miraade got out of bed. He was wearing jogging shorts. As he had once swore, unlike the Viceroy he was never getting caught naked, which the Viceroy frequently had...by nearly everyone.

He stuck his arms into the robe and pulled it around him. Miss Lepur walked away, her hips swaying in an almost rediculous manner. As she left the room, the Guard outside followed her hips and rear. The Guard hardly noticed the Miraade walk by.

"Don't get your hopes up, Wiggins. You're not her type." Errant said as Specialist Wiggins fell in behind him. The Miraade stumbled sleepily towards his desk. He flopped down into his seat and looked at the diplomatic messages that Miss Lepur handed to him.

He read over each of them. He raised an eyebrow. "They've sure got gall." He leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling as he thought about it. He rubbed at the stubble beginning to show on the side of his face.

So Damirez and Wagdog wanted to talk. He really didn't have anything against Damirez, perhaps beyond their choice of allies. Wagdog, well, they'd invaded Saint Fabian, obstentiably to prevent the Jingoists from doing worse. Noble but wrong in the Miraade's opinion. There was the additional factor that Wagdog hadn't helped defend their fleets from the RedTide salvo. However, he couldn't deny that by all reports the Wagdians were doing their best to preserve the peace in Saint Fabian.

He sighed and glanced back down at the messages. Nothing could really be hurt by talking to them. Well, Captain Geoffries might think otherwise. Errant looked towards PFC Wiggins. "Private Wiggins."

Wiggins nearly jumped as he was brought out of his locked gaze on Miss Lepur's backside. Errant gave the another tired look. "Private, if you can find the time, go wake Captain Geoffries and bring him here, please."

Wiggins saluted and left the room, heading towards the Guard Tower. The Miraade looked towards his secretary. "Some paper, Jessica. I need to start drafting...I'd like to get this done before morning."

Miss Lepur was already holding stationary and a pen. She placed it before him. "The Foriegn Affairs staff can handle any details after this, sir."

Errant nodded as he began writing. "I know, they couldn't make the big up or down decision on something like this. When you deliver these, you can tell them to quit worrying."

"Sir?"

"I hated having to wake up senior officers for anyting when I was a Marine. They've probably stopped breathing, wondering if I'll sack'em for waking me up in the middle of the gorram night." Errant shook his head.

"I will tell them, sir." Miss Lepur took a seat in a chair across from him to wait and see if would need anything else.

Errant stook his tongue out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on writing.

~~~~~~~~~~

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The Armed Republic of Catawaba
An Encrypted Communication from the Alpha Miraade, Jedith Errant
For the Eyes of: Christine L. Friedrich, Stewardess of the Revolution, Revolutionary Commonwealth of Wagdog;
Emilian Davout, Foreign Minister, Principality of Damirez

Though the relations between our governments are fairly poor of late, it would be very poor of us not to attempt to resolve our differences in a civilized manner. The Catawaban governmetn will allow delegations from your nation to enter and land in our territory. Catawaban International Airport will be open to use by your delegations. I do not believe that we are fundamentally different. Different in our principles? Slightly. Different in our courses of actions? Most definitely. I hope that we can find common ground between us all.

While your delegations and a limited personal security detail are welcome, and that you will enjoy diplomatic immunity as dictated by United Nations resolution. We must ask that you bring no weapon more powerful than pistols onto Catawaban soil, and that any military escort stay outside our twelve nautical mile territorial limit.

If you arrive by tomorrow, please know that I and the Queen of Tanaara will be meeting our returning fleets. However, after those ceremonies, we will be holding a dinner to welcome back our commanders and personnel. I invite your delegations to attend.

From the Heart.

Jedith Errant
Alpha Miraade

Sinjin, Lord Kincannon looked at the two dispatches and growled under his breath. He hated being woken upon the middle of the night, but it was his turn in the barrel so to speak and they properly were his to deal with as it was. He handed them back to his aide with a sigh. "No Randall, I wasn't growling at you." The two old friends shared a smile. "Get the kitchen to send up some coffee and pastries. Have who ever is on deck in Waltz send back the proper 'Our thanks, it's received, Sweetheart is on the Beach, will advise and get back to you." Then Tower up and send a ping out to Daveed, they’ll wake him with out having to ask the Miraade's people to do so. He'll need a full download and best assessment on the pair."

"Yes sir, and as we’re all going to be peckish before we can get back to sleep I'll have the cook whip us all up some of her blintzes." Randall added, knowing that these middle of the night actions had not only the both of them, but every one else involved as well, starving. Tanaarans tended to eat numerous small meals rather than three large ones, and be up at all sorts of odd hours, theirs being mostly a 'twenty four hour seven day', as they put it culture.

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The Domination of Tanaara
An Encrypted Communication from the Minister of State, Sinjin Lord Kincannon
For the Eyes of: Christine L. Friedrich, Stewardess of the Revolution, Revolutionary Commonwealth of Wagdog; Emilian Davout, Foreign Minister, Principality of Damirez

Please be advised that HM, Queen Mercedez Merrideath Hexx is currently in Catawaba. Should Alpha Miraade Jedith Errant have no objection concerning your representatives entering Catawaba for such a meeting Her Majesty will gladly attend the conference. However I must advise you that in no way will the Domination renounce the ideals we have held as fundamental for the nearly three hundred years since our founding. We of the Dominations do sincerely hope that we can restore and renew amicable relations between the Domination and the Principality of Damirez and Revolutionary Commonwealth of Wagdog.

Sincerely,

Sinjin, Lord Kincannon
Minister of State.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Tower contacted Sir Daveed via a Dream Slip, and he awoke once he’d received all the information that Sinjin had wished passed along to him. He threw an old fashioned smoking robe over his pajamas and slid into well worn moccasins. A quick comb though of his hair and he felt he was presentable enough to wake Mercy, who preferred Not to stand of formality, especially with friends. However they were currently guests in another nation and that meant a little more formal than normal.

Only a few minutes later Juliet, who’s turn on door duty it was, was rapping lightly but briskly on the door of the suite that has been reserved for Mercy. “Your Majesty” The bodyguard waited five seconds, then rapped again and entered with a second “Your Majesty.”

That let Mercy know that it was a national event not a personal one. The double knock was standard procedure. Mercy was a light sleeper, needing only a few seconds to become awake and aware.

No more than five minutes after that, Mercy was looking in through the open door into Errants office "I see you recieved missives from...let me guess" Her smile was tired but still warm "Damirez and Wagdog? yes? We recieved copies as well.”

Once she'd run a quick brush through her hair she’d thrown on a bronze hued caftan, and matching ballet flats peeked out from underneath. Unlike Errant, Mercy did sleep sans, but then in Tanaara, public nudity was often, but not always, common. However when in Rome…this night she had been in a satin nightgown of deep emerald. The mandarin collar of it could be seen peeking out of the deep v-neck of the caftan.

Errant opened a bleary eye to find Mercy in his office's doorway without any warning from Private Wiggins. Apparently the private had followed his orders to give Mercy and the Tanaarans all the courtesy he'd show a Catawaban official, but he'd missed out on John Adams's, the People's House's chamberlain, lectures on how to properly handle important people like the Miraade. Errant was sure one of those lectures being on how to warn him politely that a rutting head of state was about to walk in on him half asleep.

The Miraade had been slouched in his chair, his bare feet up on the desk. His eyes opened wider as he looked at Mercy between the V of his feet, which were small for man. "Mercy? Osik..." He cursed under his breath. He pushed himself back up in his chair and brought he feet down. He arranged his robe more securely around him, his chest hair showing in the robe's Ved neck. Errant tried to run a hand over his hair, which wouldn't help defeat the rooster tail of hair that formed when he slept.

"Sorry, Mercy. I was dozing here in case anything else came over the wire."

Jessica Lepur was still in the room. She had been reclined on a fainting couch in the corner, but now she was up and looking past the Tanaarans. Her emerald eyes were fixed on Wiggins as he poked his head in behind the Tanaarans. The Guard's eyes locked on those of the Miraade's secretary. Normally he felt like blusterous, youth, a man's man, a lady's man, but under the burning glare of Miss Lepur, Wiggins felt like his masculinity had become as real as unicorns and Catawaban aircraft carriers. He retreated back to his post outside the door, but swore he could feel her melting his uniform even through the wall.

"Sorry, Mercy. I was dozing here in case anything else came over the wire."

"Whats to be sorry for Errant? Sleeping as you can is very sensible and I highly recommend it. And I'm the one who should be apologizing. I acted just like this were home, heading down to the nearest source of light, noise and the rising waves of 'Don't people think about time zones?" vibes."

She looked over at Miss Lepur "I see you let Secretary for Foriegn Affairs Bevu sleep. Does he pay you what your worth? A wise woman like you is worth your weight in gold."

”Interesting ride, isn’t it mister Wallenstein?” the captain of the Victoria asked his passenger after watching the various reactions of the man following the arrival of a few reports from the mainland. It seemed Andrew’s situation wasn’t exactly one to be envious of, and even though the captain resented having to baby-sit the diplomat, he was starting to feel less and less frustrated about this all.

Lifting his eyes from the printed paper, Wallenstein reply was laced with sarcasm, he was obviously not a fan of the captain either, but had to make the best of this, ”Very interesting ride indeed, and it’s about to get even more interesting…” he finished mysteriously, making the other man lift an eyebrow in wonder.

”Oh? Are we to expect other surprises?” the obvious question came, curiosity and an objective need to know prevailing over the captain’s reluctance in asking the diplomat about what was coming his way. Given the interference from the higher ups, the Victoria abandoned her initial assignments in order to deliver this diplomat, its sister ship lagging up behind her and wasting valuable tax payers money when all this could have been done with a single flight or two. Now Wallenstein harboured further news that were to detour his group from their regular assignments.

”Yes, the Victoria’s going to receive another guest soon,” with that Andrew finally handed the orders to the captain, making the man grumble something about politicians and their games. Truth be told he had nothing against Stewardess Christine of the Wagdian state, but her arrival signified the official transformation of his ship in a VIP naval taxi. That was the Nova Maria’s role!

”If you’ll excuse me now,” Andrew made his retreat, heading towards his cabin, intent on having a shower and arranging himself for the unexpected guest. In retrospect, perhaps he should have refused the request of transporting a diplomat, but by now it was too late for him to reconsider.

For Wallenstein, a whole different line of thinking was of concern. He knew that this mission was important, for both the Principality and the Wagdians, given the stakes at place, yet he wished for this affair never to have happened in the first place. Many in the Ministry disapproved with what took place in Saint Fabian even though there was a certain understanding about the affair. Now he was tasked with making sure that this wasn’t going to affect Damirez later on, since he knew that matters left unsolved turned around sooner or later to bite those who left them unattended. Even though this wasn’t a direct problem of the Principality, it was of concern for several of its allies and it was considered that the matter needed a solution as soon as possible.

’Just like a dance that never ends,’ those were Andrew’s thoughts on the constant shifts and turns taken by the relations between states as he finished his shower, preparing himself to greet Stewardess Christine. The notifications from the Catawabans had reached the Damirans and thus the carriers were going to ‘park’ somewhere far away from the Catawaban lands, the Damiran and Wagdian official to be transported via helicopter.

With only a few naval miles left, the only thing that was lacking was the Wagdian stewardess.

Jessica Lepur, in response to the Queen's comment, looked over at Errant. He sat in a chair that obviously hadn't been made for him but a man that was much bigger and much wider than Errant. It sort of made him look like a boy in his father's chair. Well, the sleep-induced rooster tail in his hair definitely didn't help.

Some, well actually a good many, people wondered why Jessica was the Miraade's secretary. "I earn less than an 'administrative assistant' might in the private field. However, the job openings for such positions are rare as our corporations that offer them." She turned his head back to the Queen. "But, one does not serve in the Catawaban government at the Miraade's pleasure for the salary."

Mount Royal had sent out orders to the Tanaaran ship approaching Catawaba. Third Fleet which had been playing rear guard for Task Force Mercy and the Catawaban taskforce now headed away to take up positions away from Graceland Bay. The fast attack sub's that were apart of Third Fleet accompanied them, but the dozen that had been assigned to the Task Force quietly took themselves elsewhere, disappeariong into the inky blackness of abbysal depths. None had to worry about the crussing pressues found there as their maximum depths were much greater than any manned submersible could accomplish. Their C.I.'sa had recieved their orders and the freedom to operate as necessary.

Admiral Foxbridge passed along the changes in their orders to the Catawaban's with a request not to wake Admiral Starkey. However only the most damaged of the Taanaran Navy would be going into the killing bowl that Graceland Bay could easily become. And he was asking if Carawaba could play home base to all his Butterflies and Fire Darts for the next few days. His decks were overcrowded, what with all the surviving planes from Serpents Kiss also calling the Hawks Nest home since that carrier was too damaged to handle them. Just over thirteen hundred of the nineteen hundred losses they'd suffered had been on the Serpents Kiss, over half of the carriers non air wing personell. What with the Tanaaran insistance on automating everyhing possible, their supercarriers had a much smaller crew than other nations carriers. The Serpents Kiss was most liklely destined for the breakers, as it was painfully obvioous that she could not be rebuilt. Only her trimaran design was keeping her afloat, and other than the minimal crew necessary to keep her moving all other survivors had been rtransfered to other vessels. Though by some mirical her fusion powerplant had escaped us scathers.

He could have sent them to Third Fleet, or to the new arrivals, but something told him not too. He just hoped that he wouldn't be putting too big a burdent of space on the Catawabans. He'd of course be sending all their anciliarry forces, ground crews, ordinence techs and such with the birds, so the Catawabans wouldn't have to try and contend with planes they were completely unfamiliar with.

The orbital assests that had been keeping an eye on Catawaba had also been increased and several groups placed on fifteen minutes readiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sinjin had also ordered a cargo configured HST to Catawaba with several surprized for Mercy. A handful of Urubans and two armoured diplomatic vehicles, a trunk of her outfits suitable for the occassion this had become - no thsat the clothes she had originally brought with her weren't appropriate, this just gave her a greater range of choices.

And it also included more changes of clothes for Romeo and Juilet, as well as an additional security agent. One Charli Firewalker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"But, one does not serve in the Catawaban government at the Miraade's pleasure for the salary."

Mercy laughed as she entered and took a seat in a spare chair. "No, I would guess not but you ought to ask for a raise" The two women had been introduced earlier, and Mercy had taken a likeing to Jessica.

Looking back at Errant "Errant, I know that we're going to be shuffling our ships around some, and your people might be taking notice of that fact." She sighed, hating to spoil the surprize that was in store for Catawaba, but...

"Also, I know that Foxbridge asked Starkey to keep quiet about it, but you're going to find your navy considerably increased. The gift we were sailing your way has made better time than expected and has joined the mass o' floatables heading for Graceland Bay. Which as I understand it is going to get even more crowded? The Damirezians are sending their diplomat here aboard an aircraft carrier." It wasn't really a question, but the tone of her voice showed clearly her questioning of such a method of transportation.

On Approach to the Victoria
Stewardess Christine Friedrich dozed in the passenger compartment of the navalized An-72 Coaler transport; unarmed anyway and normally used under this local modification for carrier onboard delivery, thus optimal for its' current job. The whirring drone of the two overslung jet engines was comforting almost, to one used to travel as she was being the 'face' of her nation since even before attaining the top spot. The fact that this plane's designers had nicknamed the design Cheburashka, after a floppy-eared cartoon character of old which it somewhat resembled when viewed head-on, helped of course.

Also helping was the one alteration she'd made to travel plans, after belatedly catching Errant Miraade's response just before she made the first hop outbound. It was as much a reminder as a gift, in both senses of an old friend whom Christine wished could be here now; so much would be easier now if Scarlet Rogers were around that it wasn't even funny. But one man had made sure that was impossible... at least, impossible for now; damn him. She absently ran her hand along the gift's sheath, her Vetakan-forged blade of Chinese jian style within being engraved on each side with the native oath "I bow to no man!" engraved in both the native White Phoenix dialect and Sindarin Elvish via their respective scripts, not surprising given the links between the two cultures dating back to millennia ago. Having those words bare millimeters away was... reassuring, yes; but all the same she was hardly in a position to be defiant now.

Christine distantly overheard something from the flight officer of what was now "Marine One" according to protocol, he supposedly making ready for the trap run onto the Damiran carrier Victoria. This brought some relevant thoughts to the surface of her semi-consciousness. To wit, she sensed that a lot of the problem in relations between the Coalition nations and her own had to do with... well, attitude really; that as much as the actions which had stemmed from said attitudes like Errant Miraade had so nicely assessed the problem. Attitudes which were difficult to put into words, much less policy, but still significant all the same; but one facet of them dealing with what level of trust their various nations had for the world at large. Things she probably would only be able to specifically explain and work out at the same time as she tried to face-to-face with Mercy and Errant; as much to herself, as anyone else. Things that, in a few cases, dated back to Wagdog's emergence into significant international activity some sixteen years prior; emergence as a mixture of curiosity and pariah that Christine was determined to keep her nation from becoming ever again. We barely survived the last round of that, was as far as she allowed that thought to go.

And if she was to succeed in her plan, she had to try to sleep now. Knowing that the rough jolt of a carrier landing was imminent only minutes away didn't help, of course. Hopefully what berths she could secure on the Victoria would mitigate this, or else Christine thought she'd be needing a great deal of coffee indeed before this emergency shuttle meeting was done...

OOC: Will probably edit some links in for flavor, but complete for working purposes.

Errant was about the open his mouth with Private Wiggin's cleared his throat from the door. He looked up and saw a Navy petty officer standing there, a folded page in his hand. The Miraade nodded and waved the petty officer in.

The young NCO rounded wide around the Tanaarans and stopped beside the desk. He came to attention and held out the paper. "Message from Second Fleet, sir."

Errant took the sheet, looking at Mercy as a slight grin grew on his face. He looked up at the petty officer. "Thank you, Petty Officer..." Errant squinted to read the man's name tape. "...Stemm. You're dismissed." Stemm saluted, which Errant quickly returned. He spun about before striding back out the door.

He scanned over the message from Second Fleet's second in command, Captain Nellie Mountalban. She summarized and explained everything that Mercy had already said. Though Mountalban included speculation about the mysterious Philadelphia Fleet that Errant reckoned was Mercy's 'gift.' Mountalban stated that a particularlly wall-eyed crewman aboard the destroyer Redoubt had been able to make sense of the shimmering mirages thrown up by the fleet's concealment, of course this was after the crewman had taken off his extremely thick corrective glasses. Errant's eyes widened. It seemed the phrase 'as real as Catawaban aircraft carriers' was going to soon fall out of use as an expression of doubt.

He looked back up from Mountalban's sitrep and back at Mercy. "First off, your fighters are extremely welcome on Catawaban soil. We may have only fifty-three combat ready Vipers and a handful of Kanagroos, but there were originally a lot, lot more aircraft here. Most were destroyed during the Revolution, especially after the Air Force defected to Catawaba. Vipe, Bartlett, Levi, and Bowser Air Force Bases are already operational, and though Graceland's Air Force facility was ripped apart during the Revolution, the civilian side is intact. With only regional air service in operation, our international flightline is empty and open to whatever you want to set down there."

He glanced down the paragraphs on Tanaaran naval deployments. "Second Fleet..dock long enough to evacuate any non-threatening, but duty-unfit personnel and to rearm. Then we're ordering'em back out to sea." Well except for Rampart, Errant doubted that ship would ever go to sea again without a major refit.

The Miraade stopped down at the passed on intel about the Damirans and Stewardess Friedrich coming in of all things not one but two carrier groups. His eyebrows rose. He glanced up at Mercy. "What do you think about that, Mercy? Would you divert two carrier task forces to give Daveed a ride somewhere? I know I wouldn't be diverting even a destroyer to give Rea a ride, when I could use a single aircraft."

What do you think about that, Mercy? Would you divert two carrier task forces to give Daveed a ride somewhere? I know I wouldn't be diverting even a destroyer to give Rea a ride, when I could use a single aircraft."

"I wouldn't divert a single task force even for me! Ships, even the fastest, are just too slow. That bothers me Errant, though I will be the first to admit that while I graduated from the Tanaran Military Academy, my degree was Intellegence, and staff only due to my then heart condition. I've learned a lot by osmisis but..." She shook her head "but that weirdness is why my much more knowledgeable military is rearranging things. Purely logically I can't think of a single 'good' reason why they are sending not only one but two carrier force task forces."

She hid a yawn then continued "I know that Sinjin has ordered some stuff sent via another HST, it should be here in four or five hours. And I wanted to discuss what he's sending. As the last thing I want to do is insult you or Catawaba. He's sending over several Urbans and a couple of armoured limmos. I happen to think your Hummers are perfectly fine - and do most of my people. However the rest of the world might see them as 'overly military and aggressive'. So very " Her voice took on a mock accent "third world don't you know" She looked sour then bemused for a second. "So the more ...diplomatic... vehicles will be available should you like to use them."

Errant's grin grew lopsided and mischievious before he yawned. He covered his mouth and let the yawn run its course. He shook his head to clear it before he spoke up. "Have you seen all my stationary? It says 'Armed Republic of,' which isn't a coincidence or because we liked the acronym A.R.C."

The Miraade leaned back in his rediculously large chair. "No offense to you, and I do appreciate the thought on my behalf, but I don't really care if they think I'm third world because I ride around in Maureen." That being the HMMWV's name. "If they're going to make a snap judgement about me off that and keep it after they've actually talked to me...I really don't care a vornskr's backside for'em. My thing is, I've got hordes and bushels of Hum-Vees. They're already armed and armoured to my Guard's specification."

He shook his head this time in dismal of the whole idea. "I can't see spending my people's money on some civvie vehicle that'll do the same thing with less versatility. In ten, twenty minutes, the motor pool out back can outfit Maureen to be command vehicle, and I could ride off to firefight. I can't do that with some armoured limo, wouldn't want to do it. Hell, strip off the heart and skull and it's every other Hum-Vee in the country, which are a common occurance on the roads. You can't do that with a big black something. It's still a big black something."

Hell, strip off the heart and skull and it's every other Hum-Vee in the country, which are a common occurance on the roads. You can't do that with a big black something. It's still a big black something."

Mercy threw back her head and laughed. "Yes they are certainly big black somethings. More of gas guzzlers than any thing else. Though you might like the Urbans . They can put nine shooters on the ground in seconds, not counting the driver and gunner. I like them cause I can use them as command centers." She ran her fingers through her hair.

'Do we know when this set of emmissaries are supposed to arrive? And what are you wanting to do with not one carrier group but two? Me? Probably not strategically correct but I think that penning them up in Graceland Bay where they can't maneuver worth a darn might be a good idea, but I'm no naval strategist."

"Yes they are certainly big black somethings. More of gas guzzlers than any thing else. Though you might like the Urbans . They can put nine shooters on the ground in seconds, not counting the driver and gunner. I like them cause I can use them as command centers."

Jessica leaned to the conversation. "If they have use as military transport, General Waverly would appreciate any details and specifications you could provide." She looked over at Errant. "An unstated reason for the Miraade's exclusive use of military transportation is, though he thinks it beneath him, a public relations effect."

Errant looked over at her and gave another of his now plentiful tired looks. Jessica smiled a little and continued. "With a compulsory military service in place, an ever larger percentage of the Catawaban population has used, does use, or will use Catawaban military equipment. If the Miraade uses it reguarly, he shows that he supports and trusts that piece of equipment. If he dislikes it for athsetics, he ingores it and works with it as an ordinary soldier would, but if it is substandard, he orders it replaced with a system that is better suited to the task. More than creating a link of trust between the soldier and his equipment, it also shows that the Miraade is not better or all that different than them."

Errant looked back at Mercy. "Jess is also my publicist...among other things. I suppose I ought to pay her for that as well the other positions she assumes...but..."

Jessica folded her hands on her knees. "I would make more than some senior officials in the government."

'Do we know when this set of emmissaries are supposed to arrive? And what are you wanting to do with not one carrier group but two? Me? Probably not strategically correct but I think that penning them up in Graceland Bay where they can't maneuver worth a darn might be a good idea, but I'm no naval strategist."

Errant glanced over at her, that included him as he made exactly nothing as Miraade. "As to your plan for our guests," He leaned forward and peaked his fingers upon his desk blotter. "I'll leave a memo with Foriegn Affairs Office to instruct the Damirans and Wagdians to wait until mid-afternoon at least. We'll meet our fleets and such, and at the state dinner to honor our troops, that I'm sure you were expecting for today, we can meet with them."

His eyes glanced up to his right where on the wall was a map of Catawaba. In the middle of the east coast was a wide bay with a broad rock pillar in the midst of it. That was Graceland Bay, a volcanic caldera formed when a massive eruption shattered a volcanic cone. "As for those carrier groups, it would be a great strategy to trap them in the bay where they're limited by Pelec's Perch." That was the broad remainder of the ancient volcanic cone in the middle of the bay. "It'd be like luring an enemy platoon into a box canyon...except that the Bay has Graceland itself at the western end and numerous smaller communities ringing the bay to the Horns at the mouth of the Bay."

He shook his head. "Sure if, mind you if, they caused trouble I could throw rocks at them and get'em, but they could do the same thing and it wouldn't all be military targets around them. Anyways, we have enough artificial reefs and navigation hazards in the Bay from the Revolution that we need to finish clearing, and we don't need more."

"Anyways, I told them to keep outside my territorial limit. That means they'll probably fly or chopper'em in. Either way, that'd put any offensively-viable group within missile and air range." He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "I really don't think they'll pull anything. Sure I haven't seen up close to get a good gut feeling, but I don't think they're here to start something."

"I would make more than some senior officials in the government."

'Perceptions are so very important" Mercy nodded with sad amusement, but a very real knowledge just how true that was "Ah yes but do you deserve it?" Mercy smiled at Jessica. Her own salary was the smallest in the entire Tanaaran budget. One auric a day, but then again as Tanaara did not have income tax, so she got to keep all of it.

"I really don't think they'll pull anything. Sure I haven't seen up close to get a good gut feeling, but I don't think they're here to start something."

Mercy nodded, willing to acccept his assessment. "I'll trust your view on it." Errant didn't have the expereince with Mercy to know how great a compliment that was. She fought back another yawn.

"I'm going to be an absolutely wretched guest and head back to bed." She said with no little guilt, but also aware that there was little for her to do here. And that both Errant and Jessica could go back to dozing if she were gone.

"Ah. Yes, but do you deserve it?"

Jessica's answer was a mere, knowing smile. Oh, she deserved it. Every Gold centicred and more.

"I'm going to be an absolutely wretched guest and head back to bed."

Errant snorted to himself. "I'm pretty sure yer already a wretched guest, perhaps not absolutely, but yeah, wretched. A good guest would have accepted our hospitality and forgotten all her cares, sleeping the night through, while her hosts worried and dithered the night away. Such flagrant disregard for hospitality is an anathema to the powers that be...which include me."

He looked over at his secretary, who was really more an aide. "That is a capital offense. Right, Jess?"

She shook her head, still holding her smile. Errant looked aghast as he stood up from his chair. "It isn't? Can't have that. I'll write it up and..." He yawned and stretched. "Well...tomorrow, in any case. So the FAO can handle anything from here on?"

Jessica nodded. "Undersecretary Churchill swears he can handle any minutae until Secretary Lolimba is up."

Errant nodded. "Then I think we should all go back to sleep. Mercy, would like company back to your room? I know it's not far, but with the whole place dark, one ugly cherub looks like all the others." It was pretty weak as an excuse to 'walk a girl home.' It wasn't a hundred feet down the hall from the Miraade's suite, Mercy could no doubt navigte in the dark, and if not Juliet, who was already accompaning Mercy, definitely could have. However, Errant was trying to overlook all those obvious and sensible reasons.

"Such flagrant disregard for hospitality is an anathema to the powers that be...which include me."

Mercy just gave him a slow sleepy smile. She didn't seem the least bit afraid of him "The rules are ever so slightly different for rulers of foreign nations Errant" and she impudently twitched her nose at him.

"Then I think we should all go back to sleep. Mercy, would like company back to your room? I know it's not far, but with the whole place dark, one ugly cherub looks like all the others."

"I'd love that, as I've never been fond of ugly cherubs, especially the ones who's eyes follow one around the room" Mercy chuckled as she stood and stretched herself. Outside the room at her post on the other side of the door farme from Private Wiggin, Juliet had already heard- only what she needed to hear like the superb agent she was - and moved off smoothly heading to the suite. She was sensitive to things like that.

Errant accompanied Mercy back towards her suite. As they left the room, Private Wiggins tried to melt into the wall, lest he be seen by the Miraade. However, his commander and chief wasn't the one to worry about, which he found out seconds later. Jessica stepped out of the room and continued her glaring. She began whispering to him, though from Private Wiggins's expressions, you know it surely wasn't sweet nothings.

The Miraade talked quietly with the Queen. As they passed the cherubim, his eyes followed those of each cherub. They did follow you as you walked. Errant knew however that it wasn't an optical illusion of perspective. They really did follow you.

He made a note to pass on the Queen's notice of Dr. Boothroyd Spiesenheimer's CSS system, or Covert Sculptuary Survaillence system. It was still too conspicious. Hopefully, the Tanaarans wouldn't notice the SAS (Surface to Air Sculptuary) or SSS (Surface to Surface Sculptuary) systems outside. Boothroyd, another well-meaning Egghead, had an obessession with weaponizing or automating the stonework that the Togovians left behind. Errant figured more power to him because he hated Togovian sculpture and it was damned clever, if it worked which it hadn't reliably...yet.

He escorted her to her suite and left her at her door. After a reluctant moment's hesistation, he wished her good night and quickly returned up the hall, his bare feet padding down the polished wood floors. How did one properly wish a lady good night after escorting her down a hall way of his house? Was there a right way? He sighed, if he was going to hobnob with people that might expect better decorum than a 'howdy' upon greeting and 'please' and 'thank you', he'd need to find someone to coach him in etiquette.

By the time he returned to his door, Private Wiggins was pale as if he would keel over and die the next moment. Errant spared him a moment's glance before continuing on to his room. Miss Lepur had disappeared, turned off his desk light, and straightened up his deck. He hoped she'd gone back to bed, which is what he should be doing. He threw his robe on the same odd chair that Viceroy had place facing a bare corner for some reason. He never paid it any mind and climbed into bed.

He slept, a smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the sun rose, of course, but Errant and Mercy's respective suites faced northwest so neither would get any obvious rays falling across their beds. No, in the People's House you woke up by internal clock, alarm clock, or attending staff. It was the ungodly early hour of eight, but most of the House was already awake.

"Good Night to you too Errant, and thank you for escorting me. Now, go get some sleep yourself" She watched him go for a second before stepping into her room. She had had the stongest impulse to hug him, but wary decorumn had won out.

Morpheus pulled her under quickly once she'd slid back into the suite's oversized bed. As tired as she was she still woke at dawn, but sensing how still things were she curled up on her side and drifted back to sleep, an uncommon luxury for her. It was after eight before Rose, her ladies maid woke her, having alsready drawn a bath for her.

"I let you sleep -one missed day of workout won't hurt you, but you need to get ready for the morning reception." Rose explained as she uncovered the waiting breakfast for Mercy and poured her a glass of orange juice.

Mercy aquicessed and threw on the bronze hued caftan once again. She looked over at the comfortable but perfectly tailored dress that Rose had selected and nodded. Elegant but never ostentatious.

A hundred feet down the hall, Errant too woke up at dawn. That was an ingrained habit. For the last seven years, he'd woken up at dawn, knowing that a minute after dawn would bring down some harpy or archangel beyond all imagining. That was still true to today. Errant opened an eye slightly. No one was staring over his bed, waiting to bellow at the top of their lungs.

He opened both eyes and propped himself up on one arm. A glance at his clock, digital with red letters an anchronism to this Baroque but a concession to him so he could see in the dark, told him it was 6:31. He glanced at the window, seeing the first rays of sun falling upon the grounds. He waited a minute, then two. He looked around the room. This was odd. No one coming to wake him up. He thought about this very hard, for all of a moment, before letting his arm collapse under him and flopping back down onto his pillow. Sleep welcomed him back like a long lost friend.

No, the harpies hadn't gotten the day off. They'd just given him an extra hour. At half past seven, his door got a perfunctory knock before it was flung open, and his room was invaded. "Sir, you've slept another hour. It is well past time for you to get up, sir."

Errant groaned and tried to roll away from his pest. "Mister Adams, leave me alone."

"Half past seven, Miraade Errant. Now get up!" Adams bellowed from Errant's closet.

The Miraade growled and rolled over. A short, little man in a brown frock coat emerged from his closet baring one of Errant's Marine dress scarletts. He was about to lay it on the chair facing the corner, but stopped seeing it covered in Errant's robe. He sighed, long suffering, as if dealing with the Miraade's sloppiness was going to be the death of him.

"Private Wiggins, come move this."

Errant frowned. Wiggins? Wiggins had been on shift last night. He shouldn't be on now. Errant sat up straight as he saw Wiggins walk in the same sort of brown frock coat as Adams. Now, John Adams, the Chamberlain at the People's House, chose to be extremely old fashioned and always wore a frock coat and accompanying suit that was better suited to a period of Catawaban history around the period of initial colonization of the island. It was odd, but no one argued with Adams's clothing choices. He was a pint-size tiger and brooked no arguements.

Errant blinked slowly as he awakening mind attempted to figure out the scene. "Private...why are you out of uniform?"

Private Wiggins, a skinny beanpole of a young man, came to attention and faced his commander and chief. "Sir, Captain Geoffries has assigned me to undergo VIP Handling Training with Chamberlain Adams, sir. Mister Adams said this...uniform was more conducive to the learning experience." Wiggin's cheeks burned with embarassment. Errant wasn't surprised. He looked rediculous but so did Adams, who only pulled it off through an air of indifference and plenty of scowls.

Errant turned to Adams. "Is that from the holiday uniforms?"

"Yes. It is too bad you only have it out for Christmas and New Years, sir. I think the staff would benefit and have more pride in proper dress." Adams said as he waited for Wiggins to lift the Miraade's robe out of the way. Wiggins picked it up and held it as Adams laid the Miraade's uniform across the chair, more a fainting couch really.

Errant knew what the staff would do if he mandated that dress year round. They'd poison his coffee, wax the floors until the coefficient of friction was zero, and cut the cold water into his warm showers. "Well, we'll see, Mister Adams...we'll see."

John Adams snorted. He shook his head, his severe black hair drawn back in an anchronistic queue. "Well, I had better see you out of bed, sir. Captain Geoffries has conducted Physical Training without you. There's still the intelligence briefs, departmental reports, status on the preparations for today's ceremonies, and then..."

Errant held up a hand. "Where's Jessica? Isn't she suppos..."

John Adams straightened with indignation. "That is improper, Miraade Errant. Improprieities are something that you can ill afford in your position. She should not be..."

"I'm right outside, sir." Jessica Lepur's voice sounded from the door to his office. She stayed around the door jamb and waved a hand with well manicured and painted nails into the door way to prove her existance.

"Mornin', Jess." Errant turned to Adams. "The entire country already assumes she and I are lovers, John. And we haven't been for going on three years. People will rumormong what ever they gorram please."

Adams sneered at the word 'rumormong' which was not proper, but the Miraade rarely spoke in proper English. It was all apart of his 'downhome charm.' Well, rough as he was, John Adams was his Chamberlain and utterly loyal. He would just have to polish the Miraade over time with physical force if necessary. "Of course, sir."

Errant rolled his eyes. "Git, the lot of ya. Let me get ready." He got up and out of bed. He started going through his mental schedule. "Jess, the bruncheon's at ten, ain't it?"

"Yes, sir. All of your secretaries are going to be there."

Errant nodded. "Still in the dark?"

"As near as they can be, sir."

"Good, good." He looked at Wiggins and Adams. "I said go. Git. I can ready myself, thankyouverymuch."

The two frock coated individuals left the room, closing the door behind them. Errant shuffled, not all the way awake, towards the bathroom. He heard the door crack open behind him. He knew it was Jessica, not peeking in. She wasn't voyueristic. He knew that from all their time as friends and when they had been more. He stopped in the door to the bathroom.

"Jess, is there time for me to pass by the chapel and have a talk with the padre?"

Jessica was silent for a moment while she went over the schedule and estimated times to completion. "Yes, sir. Your weekly 'confessional' is on Wednesday though."

"I know. I have a few...impure thoughts to discuss with him. Would you give him a heads up, that I'm stopping by?"

"I'll go tell Father Mulcahy to be expecting you." Errant heard her heels clicking away on the hardwood. He nodded to himself and went to start getting ready. Yes, a few things brought up in his conversations with Mercy would require the clergyman's attention.

Once she'd bathed and dressed - as Rose went about coifing her hair - Mercy went over the thick folder of national security and other governmental files that had been down loaded and printed for her. However after the first few bites pf her breakfast she set the paper work aside and concentrated on the food. It was excellently prepared and it was her habit to enjoy all ther meals as thoroughly as possible- even if it meant shorting herself elsewhere. However once it was down she went back to the papers - glad she had an nearly editetic memory and had learned to speed read at an early age.

Daveed had left them with Rose when he'de gone for his morning walk about. He did a causal stroll of nearly ten miles a day, most of the time with one of his many hand raised cheetas by one side and his lovely wife on the other. But neither were with him this morning and he moved at a brisker pace than normal.

Once all the files had been perused and any decisions made that simply couldn't wait, Mercy sat back with a cup of very blonde and sweet coffee and thought about last night.He's so very easy to talk to. I feel comfortable with him already, and he has a wicked sense of humor. Yes, I definitely will like working with him, and no I'm not going to live at the Embassy, I'll have a place of my own. Pleased with her decission she let her eyes close, sneaking a power nap - one of her greatest secrets - she napped whenever she could.

Errant came out of his confessional with Father Mulcahy feeling a bit more secure and less worried about his life. The calm, straw-haired Mulcahy was a quiet rock that absorbed information with patient, understanding nods. He gave absolution and advice as patiently as he listened. His words were rationed, well-proportioned but always of the utmost importance. The Miraade felt he was lucky to have a him as the House's chaplain.

With the chaplain's assurance and intelligence well recieved, Errant moved on to breakfast. He sat down and skimmed over his Secretaries' departmental report summaries. He wished he'd had a photographic memory. Frankly, he wished he didn't read like a gut shot turtle. His best memory skills were auditory. He could remember just about anything said and there by remember visual images by sound. It ended up that hearing music usually came with accompanying mental images.

That was the main reason for his large and frequent cabinet meetings. He could read ever printed page in the world, but he had a better grasp when he talked to an expert face to face. He couldn't be so easily confused or fooled when he could read a person as he could when he looked some one in the eye and talked directly to him.

Today's meeting was no different then any other besides the subject and a special guest. Errant took a sip of his hazelnut favoured coffee as his mind drifted. A hundred and ninety-seven trillion gold credits, over a hundred and seventy ships of various classes, and the help and assistance of the entire Dominion.

He took another sip slowly. His gaze was hundreds of miles away, but his mind was focused just a hundred feet away. More than any gift of specie or arms, there was the expertise and service of Miss Mercedez Merrideath Hexx. She'd floored him one time after another last night with her surprises, and had him following her around like a starry-eyed pup. He shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd talked that long with anybody and lost track of all time.

He pondered the two parcels of land she'd mentioned. An embassy of course...and an estate outside of Graceland. Well. She meant to stay for a bit, it seemed. He looked down the long dining table that also served as his conference table. She'd be in Catawaba so near by. State functions, he needed state functions. She'd have to come to state functions....in low cut dresses....

A loud musical laugh from outside snapped him out of his trance. It was familiar, distantly familiar. He got up from the table and strode to the window. He saw a middle-aged Taung woman in traditional Taung garb sprinting out into the House's gardens. Odd, he couldn't think of anyone in the staff that wore traditional Taung clothing. She looked pretty fit and pretty good looking, perhaps ten years older than him. A larger form loped along at speed behind the women.

Errant's icy blue eyes focus in on the giant in Marine scarletts and recognized Goran, his cousin and Lolimba's aide. He smirked, so Goran had an older sweetheart cached in the House's staff. Smug, he looked back at the sprinting Taung woman. She was enjoying herself, running like she hadn't in years. She was fast too.

All of this was strangely familiar. Like a scene he'd experienced years and years ago. He focused in on the Taung woman's clothing, and his brow furrowed as he recognized Bevu clan patterns and colors. If Goran had a sweetheart, she should be of another clan. Taung were exogamous as to their relationships.

Corporal Salva, his usual daytime escort, came to his side to see what was concerning him. Errant glanced at her. "Corporal, your MOR."

Her brown eyes widened a bit, but she handed her Miraade her rifle. Errant brought it up to his shoulder and peered through the inbuilt scope. He sighted in on the Taung woman as she looked over her shoulder to shout something at Goran. Errant's jaw dropped open, and the rifle fell from his shoulder. He blankly held it out for Salva to take.

She snatched it from him and sighted in on the woman. Her finger strayed near the trigger. "Who is it, sir?"

Errant slowly turned his head to Salva. "It's Lolimba."

Salva pulled her head back from the scope to gape at her commander and chief before shoving her eye back against the scope in a double take. "Gorram...I need what ever anti-aging cream she's using..."

~~~~~~~~~~

Lolimba laughed. To say she felt better than she ever had might be an overstatement, but she sure felt better than she had in the last twenty years. She looked and felt thirty-five again. Lean, fit, athletic, and most of all passably attractive. The overnight change had shocked Goran enough that he'd pulled his service pistol on her until she proved she was in fact his aunt.

She angled in at the respectable, tall figure strolling the House's grounds. She knew the grounds like the back of her hand, spending much of her free time strolling the grounds with Goran while he read letters and reports to her. She'd just never gotten to enjoy them at a sprint. Her sandaled feet scrapped on the gravel as she skidded to a stop. "You foriegn devil! You scamp!" She laughed between heavy breaths. "You weren't just allieving my pains from yesterday!"

David couldn't hide his laughter as Lolimba ran up to him, panting form her unaccustomed activity.

You weren't just allieving my pains from yesterday!"

"No I wasn't." He smiled, happy at how well his efforts had affected the Taung woman - the results were just as he had intended. "You deserved more than that."

He had slept deeply last night, the changes he had wrought weren't easy and they were flat out exhausting - he had excused himself from their most interesting conversation last night earlier than he'd wanted to because she deserved other than him falling asleep in the middle of chatting..

Though his being waken in the middle of the night to deliver messages to Mercy had interupted his sleep he was still feeling much refreshed.

He watched her laugh and his soul was renewed. And that was what it was all about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercy woke after fifteen minutes of deep nap and stood, stretching luxuriously. She cheked herself in the mirror, then looked at Rose, just about the last thing she did every morning before she left her rooms.

The older woman's answer was never mindless reassurance, but held until she had given the Queen a observant once over "Yes you'll...hmmm." She stopped and bustled over to the small jewel case and brought out a broach and pinned it on. "Yes perfect, it brings out your eyes against this over done gothic monstrosity." Rose had formed her own opinion of the Peopled House. She felt they deserved a better one.

Mercy gave her a gentle hug, picked up her PDA and with a nod to Romeo headed towards Errant's Office, but half way there she stopped. "Well aren't I a dunce. I completely forgot to ask where the briefings are held...Well when in doubt follow the smell of coffee." She took a slow deep breath, trying to see if she could do just that.

"What I deserve and what I have recieved are two entirely different things, ner vod." She took in a deep breath and let it out. "Well, I have a briefing to attend and fellow Cabinet members to surprise. I will see you later, Daveed." She turned towards the House, Feeling Errant's surprise. She smiled widely and jogged off back towards the House with little effort.

Goran pounded up to where she'd been a moment later. He looked after her and then at Daveed. "Thank you, Doctor. I have not seen her like this for many, many years....not since I was a boy." He extended a massive hand to the older man.

~~~~~~~~

It wasn't quite audible, but there was a vauge and hushed sound as if an arrow was twanging as it struck into a tree. From behind her a voice spoke. "Your Majesty? If you would follow me?"

John Adams had appeared behind her with the secret arts known only to butlers, chamberlains, and other senior servants. He stood respectfully two paces behind her with his hands clasped in the small of his back. His face was impassive, but inside he was deeply giddy. A real monarch in the House, it was a chamberlain's dream come true.

Meanwhile, deep in a basement on the other side of the House, Private Wiggins turned around and scratched his head. "Well...puss buckets...we're the little tyrant get to?"

"Errant already knows" Daveed called after her with a grin that became a brilliant smile as ...

"Thank you, Doctor. I have not seen her like this for many, many years....not since I was a boy."

Daveed shook the young Taung's hand. 'It was truly my pleasure." was his reply and he thoroughly meant it. He watched the Marine hustle after Lolimba and sent a thought to his wife and daughters Good Morning Loves! It's a beautiful day here in fascinating Catawaba and...

He filled them in on his doings so far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Your Majesty? If you would follow me?"

Mercy turned and regaurded Mister Adams with no surprize at all. "I was wondering if this...edifice ...had a proper keeper, or is it the Miraade that does?" She tilted her head ever so slightly to one side. Romeo may have been unhappy at the unheralded appearance, but she was looking Mister Adams over with delighted eyes.

The diminuitive chamberlain inclined his head. "Her Majesty is very perceptive, and right upon both counts. Both the House and the Miraade require a strict hand in keeping them both. It is not as he could keep both himself..." He paused a moment for effect before continuing with the proper suffix to that statement. "...owing the large and heavy burden he bears for all Catawaba."

Bard Gun Company would have studied John Adams for their Can't See It Division's work upon stealth technology because Adams could sneak in sarcasm that was almost undetectable to mankind and modern science put together.

Adams stepped in profile and waved hand towards the stairs. "This way, your Majesty." He started walking slowly to lead her down stairs.

"This way, your Majesty."

"Thank you, Mister...?" She hoped he would introduce himself, as she followed after him. Mercy had recognised what he was instantly, for he was all but the sptiing image - in miniature- of her own Aramis

"Might I say that you are doing a most difficult job in a most exemplery manner. And I might guess he probably doesn't openly recognise your efforts often enough, though I feel if pressed he would admit that he not only appreciates you but even needs you. I know that Mount Royale wouldn't run a tenth as smoothly without our dear Aramiss. He looks much like you, save he is considerably taller. Perhaps you share a family connection. I think he even favors the same tailor that you do."

As they approached the conference room "I knew it, Romeo, the smell of coffee gives it away, though with the fortitutious aid of this most noble chamberlin we arrived far sooner than we might have."

One might note that Mercy had moved into a completely differnt form of address without even thinking about it, and it would fall away just as naturally as it had come.

"Thank you, Mister...?"

"Adams, your Majesty, John Adams." He took a whiff of the air, and yes, there was the rich aroma of coffee in the air. "That is a Catawaban blend from the southeast of the island." He took another whiff. "I think that is the Goldsboro Chicory."

Adams lead her to the dining room. The House didn't have a proper conference room. It was a sign that the Viceroy hadn't carried to seek advice from his ministers. He allowed them to rule over their little bureaucratic fiefdoms as long as they didn't make waves and things ran smoothly. If he needed to talk to one of them, he'd have them dragged before his desk up stairs in the office.

"Perhaps you share a family connection. I think he even favors the same tailor that you do."

"I must admit that I am ignorant to my family's origins before we began serving the Viceroys of Catawaba nearly four hundred years ago. I suppose we were Togovian, but one rarely had to be Togovian to serve Togovian nobility. Ah, here we are."

He stopped just outside the door to the dining room and turned to the Queen. "Is there anything you require before I announce you, my Lady?"

"I am pleased to meet you Mister Adams"

"I must admit that I am ignorant to my family's origins before we began serving the Viceroys of Catawaba nearly four hundred years ago. I suppose we were Togovian, but one rarely had to be Togovian to serve Togovian nobility. Ah, here we are."

"Oh you truly do have the linneage. I am glad to see that the Miraade is in such knowledgeable and expert hands." Her eyes sparkled with gentle good humor.

"Is there anything you require before I announce you, my Lady?"

"Thank You Mister Adams I am fine, but please, thank the kitchen staff for me if you would. My breakfast was delicious."

The thoughts of Freedom’s captain were not much different from those of Victoria’s, the waste of tax payers money was in his view unforgivable. ”Since when do we switch our label to Principality Naval Cab Company?” he even asked in anger as the assignment went on and on. He was perhaps even more aggressive in his views than his counterpart on the Victoria, given the fact that normal protocol only dictated for the Carriers to go in pairs only outside Nova’s waters, the home region considered a much lower risk for the ships, except naturally any mission that lead them in proximity to Kraven during the days of the High Father, those often included packs of three, four and even entire battle fleets for even the most boring of assignments, the seriousness of the situation significantly lowered after the change in leadership that the Corporation suffered. Now it only served to aggravate the man’s irritation, why did he have to suffer with Victoria’s captain?

”Sir?” an urgent sounding voice awoke him in the middle of the night, the messenger obviously agitated. ”Sir?” the voice returned even louder after a few seconds as he fumbled trying to get out of bed. ”Sir?” this time the ‘intruder’ entered his quarters, no permission asked, obviously not a good thing, the intruder was either, one, trying to kill him, unlikely, two, in desperate need for a little time in the galley, three, the cook informing him they ran out of supplies, this one he couldn’t explain, or four, and the most likely, well, they were in a jam, again!

”What is it?” he asked, trying not to act embarrassed at his lack of dressing or at the state his sheets found themselves in at the moment, it just had to be a woman looking at him, didn’t it? ”As you can see, I’m not exactly in the most presentable of states.”

”I apologize for interrupting your sleep, sir,” the woman quickly started talking, not lifting her eyes from the captain’s body, ”But we received an urgent message.” Again, without waiting confirmation she pressed a few buttons on the captain’s ‘computer’ the image of one admiral appearing instantly. Another woman, why wasn’t he surprised? At least this one was a recorded message.

”Frank, we’re in a very big mess,” the woman’s voice chilled his blood, ”You and the Victoria are needed for combat duty immediately. I’m not going into details given the fact that everything you need to know is covered in documents already transmitted to your ship, but I felt I had to warn you about this personally, we’re expecting heavy losses on this one. Just be safe…” the recording ended, the face of the Admiral telling him a lot more than her words.

”Great, who signed a contract for the suicide squad?” he was really starting to regret dissing out his current assignment.

--

On the deck of the Victoria, Andrew Wallenstein prepared to greet the Wagdian Stewardess. He was dressed in a black suit, his tie and shirt looking as if they were just removed out of the package whilst his golden buttons glinting in the sun as the roar of an incoming plane could be heard just a few meters from him. He had spent quite a bit of time arranging himself and coordinating preparations for the short period of time Christine was to be hosted by the Victoria, and now he was waiting patiently for the Stewardess to arrive.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for that to happen, and only a few minutes after his arrival on the deck, the Wagdian plane landed, delivering the Stewardess and her entourage. As the woman exited the plane, he was the first one to greet her, the captain of the ship mysteriously absent.

”Welcome to the Victoria, Stewardess,” he spoke politely, ”Would you like for some refreshments before we get down to business?” her stay on the Victoria was to be short as she and he were to depart to the Catawaban mainland in just a few hours, or at least that’s what he thought, their departure soon to be precipitated by unfortunate events.

Inside the ship, the captain of the Victoria could only listen to his counterpart on Freedom. ”Then what am I supposed to do with the diplomats?!” he asked.

”They’re to be delivered to Catawaba as soon as possible, we’re needed in another part of the world Mac, and we’re needed fast!”

*SNIP*

--

On the deck of the Victoria, Andrew Wallenstein prepared to greet the Wagdian Stewardess. He was dressed in a black suit, his tie and shirt looking as if they were just removed out of the package whilst his golden buttons glinting in the sun as the roar of an incoming plane could be heard just a few meters from him. He had spent quite a bit of time arranging himself and coordinating preparations for the short period of time Christine was to be hosted by the Victoria, and now he was waiting patiently for the Stewardess to arrive.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for that to happen, and only a few minutes after his arrival on the deck, the Wagdian plane landed, delivering the Stewardess and her entourage. As the woman exited the plane, he was the first one to greet her, the captain of the ship mysteriously absent.

”Welcome to the Victoria, Stewardess,” he spoke politely, ”Would you like for some refreshments before we get down to business?” her stay on the Victoria was to be short as she and he were to depart to the Catawaban mainland in just a few hours, or at least that’s what he thought, their departure soon to be precipitated by unfortunate events.

Inside the ship, the captain of the Victoria could only listen to his counterpart on Freedom. ”Then what am I supposed to do with the diplomats?!” he asked.

”They’re to be delivered to Catawaba as soon as possible, we’re needed in another part of the world Mac, and we’re needed fast!”

Christine moved forward happily, first shaking Wallenstein's hand and following it up with a friendly hug to compensate for yet another inconvenience she'd sent his way. "Oh not so formal honored Mr. Wallenstein; Andrew, if I may. You didn't give me such good support at Theeb for me to demand even half so much from you in return, friend." She patted him on the back twice before breaking away and setting to business.

"Still, it's good you're here too. I sense you and I have some sort of karma to need to face the more-foreboding negotiations our countries share." Pity more than half of 'em are occasioned by me well and truly, she thought. Vetakan-forged blade hanging limp from her left hip on a generic Sam Browne style belt which didn't quite match with her cream-colored professional blouse and skirt, Christine would likely stow it during most circumstances; hardly the most effective of deterrents but one of the more reassuring to her on a personal level all the same. She bore no more entourage than the Coaler's crew, which would fuel up soon and head back home. She was truly here by herself, a personal visit as much as a State one; mainly to assist Wallenstein as was only proper seeing as she had played no small role in serving him this mess.

"Thank you, but I don't believe we should really be delaying. I'm sure hospitality in Graceland will be more than excellent enough, and the business to be attended is of such importance no further delay can be afforded. Mr. Wallenstein," She offered him her hand to emphasize, "Lead the way. I'm ready to be going the instant you are." There was enough to do even if it was started immediately; friction, as always.

An HST in Tanaaran livery landed after all the proper exchanges with the Catawaban air controll, and taxied almost to the exact spot the one bearing HM Queen Mercedez had. The cargo configured HST cracked it's shell and began the process of unloading. Orders had been passed to leave the long black things aboard, but to unload everything, and every one else. Five Urbans rolled down the ramp, then came something long and low (http://www.atddm.com/hc1a.jpg) with a throaty grow that spoke of nothing but speed.

The lady (http://www.atddm.com/charlia2.jpg) that stepped out of the Hexx1 to momentarily confer with the drivers of the Urbans was a long and lean auburn haired beauty who moved like something semi feral and all dangerous. Then she was back in the racer and speeding off. Mercy would be informed she was there and stretching her legs a bit before making it to the Catawaban People's House.

Charli Firewalker hoped they didn't have speed limits, otherwise she was about to break all of them.

AFB Vipe
Neshoba, Catawaba

The few Air Force security personnel around the Tanaaran HSTs exchanged glances as the hotrod and hot gal emerged from the cargo lifter. Both were drool worthy, but both also had the aire of murder around them as if simplying being near them would rip the flesh from your bones. The Catawabans unanimously agreed that this was one lady you didn't hassel with.

Considering the Air Force SPs' decisions, it was very good for the Catawaban Route Patrol that the Routes and Gnarl throughout the island had no speed limit. The surface roads off the Routes had strictly enforced speed limits. Reckless excess of the speed limit was equated with firing an automatic weapon into a crowd and dealt with in much the same level of extreme prejudice. And the Togovian tradition of dealing with flagarant vehicular offenders with a 70mm rocket was still held dear amongst the Catawaban pilots that piloted the armed 'Carnaby' Wallaby helicopters.

~~~~~~

The People's House
Graceland, Catawaba

Adams gave the Queen a half bow. "It is my pleasure and will be theirs to hear such kind praise." He stepped to the door and knocked. He waited a three count and opened the door. He stepped in and to the side.

The Catawaban Cabinet looked down the table towards the door. Most of the Cabinet was clustered around Lolimba, talking, laughing, and congratulating her. Errant rose from his chair which at the head of the table and faced away from the door. He stepped around the chair and walked to the Queen. Adams successfully utilized another chamberlain stealth method that Bard Gun would love to study by blending into the background even in his frockcoat. Errant walked right past the disguised Adams. "Good Mornin', Mercy."

As they all stood, the Cabinet exchanged looks behind Errant's back at the Miraade's surprise use of Queen's shortened first name. He extended a hand to her to escort her to the table and introduce his Cabinet. Again the Cabinet exchanged looks. An old, frumpy, plump lady very near the Miraade's chair looked excited and happy as if to bust the buttons on her cardigan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aboard the CNS Intrepid
80 miles northeast of Graceland Bay

Admiral Josiah Starkey looked at himself in the mirror as he finished buttoning the confoundedly difficult double row of buttons that clasped close his dress uniform jacket. It looked fine and dignified for the Navy as a service with tradition. The dress uniform in navy blue could have been a design left over from the last century. The admiral snorted to himself. As itchy as it felt, the uniform itself could have been left over from last century.

He finished buttoning jacket and pulled it down to make sure it was straight and shifted until it looked correct. He grabbed his cover off his bunk and left his quarters. His Marine escort dropped in behind him as he walked up the companion way towards the cruiser's bridge

However Starkey's mind was eighty miles away. Second Fleet was almost home, though he would not be pulling into port with them. Second Fleet was going directly to the Naval Yard Graceland to be refueld and rearmed before going right back out. A SeaWall would take him from the Intrepid to Providence Park on the Graceland waterfront. In the Park, the government was organizing the ceremony to welcome the fleet commanders back as representative of the fleets themselve, since the undamaged ships would need to get in and out as fast as possible and the damaged ship would be in no condition to dock immediately.

He really wished that his people would be getting the praise at this ceremony, actually present to recieve it, but he understood the situation as did they. Saint Fabian still flared, and the Navy could not rest longer than necessary, taking pride as the longest arm and toughest shield for Catawaba.

The Hexx 1 purred sedately along the suface streets, at the posted speed limits, Charli having been apprised beforehand of something Mercy had been told of - and passed along -about 70 mm rockets and over adventurous drivers.

However once she was on the local equivallent of the autobahn she let the car run free. She was a thoroughly professional driver, regularly teaching courses in high speed driving with a specialty in mountain driving, and never took what she was doing lightly.

The Hexx had among it's various accoutrements a CB radio, and if any one driving on the island had one they would have heard a polite advisory from One Lady Thunderbolt that a 'ground bound fast burner' was moving through. She also like to fly fast and had her rating for multi engines. Indeed she had spent many hours in a Butterfly simulator - and very unofficially -even at the stick of one.

But then again Charli could fly on her own as well, though only a hand full knew that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Good Mornin', Mercy."

"Good moning Errant" Her voice was a warm lilt as she took his offered hand and allowed him to gallantly seat her. And she found herself blushing under his regard, something she hadn't done in years. But then again it had been years since she had met someone she liked even before they met. He has such lovely keen eyes, sharp without being hard ... and so warm.

Firmly she turned her thoughts to the meeting, and getting to know his Cabinet members and advisors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the Hawks Nest Admiral Foxbridge was wishing much the same thing, that his people could be there instead of him. They deserved all of the recognition, he was just a symbol. He could say though that his dress uniform was more comfortable that the one the Catawabans wore - though he had to admit they looked very crisp and professional.

Errant led Mercy to a seat to the right of his chair. He let her sit and then waved his Cabinet to sit as well. He sat, beamingly happy. He looked down the table at the secretaries he'd appointed thus far. Experts in their fields, they were people he'd chosen to delegate a small field of his ultimate responsibilities as Miraade. He let everyone settle in for a moment before looking each of them in the eye for a moment. "I don't think I need to introduce her to you. You would have to be under a rock not recognize Queen Merecedez Merrideath Hexx of the Dominion of Tanaara."

The Cabinet nodded along as if to humor him. Some of them had been at the ceremony to greet her. Errant caught the parroting head bobs and narrowed his eyes as in mock threat. He swept a hand across the table to his left. At his left hand, across from Mercy, was the excited, plump, cardigan-clad old lady. A pair of thin glasses hung from a gold chain around her neck, giving her the air of a displaced librarian. "First is my Secretary for Education, a sweet, devoted educator, Amanda Petry."

Mrs. Petry turned her pleasant smile on Errant and reached out pat a soft, wrinkled hand on Errant. He grinned. Mrs. Petry turned her smile on to Mercy and inclined her head as if curtseying. "A pleasure to meet you, your majesty." Her voice soft and high with very little tremor for her sixty years.

Errant swept a hand to indicate to the person to Mercy's right. He was a tall, thin man with straw colored hair. "My Secretary for War, General Thomas Waverly."

Tom Waverly inclined his head and said "Ma'am," solemnly.

Errant continued down the table. Across from the General was Dr. Andrew Mickelson, Secretary for Agriculture and the Interior. He was still the thin, scrawny man in scholarly tweed that she'd seen at the greeting ceremony. Down from Mickelson was a very tall, broad shouldered giant of a man. He was Richard Beaudeen, Secretary for Transportation. Across from Beaudeen, not surprisingly nicknamed Lurch, was a severe-looking women, ambition and purpose burning in her eyes. This was Nicolette Beale, Secretary for Commerce and the Economy. Beside Miss Beale was Lolimba who looked to be in her mid-thirties and smug.

"A pleasure to meet you, your majesty."

"I am so glad to meet you. Errant spoke of you quite glowingly last night" Mercy replies to Mrs. Petry and so it went around the table with Errant introducing people. Once they were all named off she settled back in her chair, letting her fade from their attention.

She wondered exactly how Errant was going to inform them. His slightly mischievious personality suggested that he might well do it in a less than conventional manner. And she was going to enjoy their rections, or so she hoped.

’And I hoped nobody will mention that…’ Andrew thought to himself as the Wagdian Stewardess mentioned Theeb. It wasn’t as if he disliked the meeting and what it hoped to achieve, but he really didn’t like remembering the events that took place there, especially given the fact that he had no idea about half of the time he spent there. ’This is going to follow me for the rest of my life, isn’t it?’ he asked himself, even his mind betraying him.

”I assure you, it was my pleasure,” he replied to the woman, trying to breach through the haze that covered those days and realize exactly what he did to support the woman, ”I must say I was hoping that we met again in better circumstances,” he added, obviously a bit concerned about the situation in which he was thrown by his superiors, ”But hopefully we’ll manage to redress the state of affairs and perhaps work to avoid such unpleasantries for the future.” Andrew was honest about his intentions, given the peaceful nature of the dealings the Principality had with the rest of the world it was extremely displeasing for him to witness some of the nation’s closest allies getting involved in a mess, and one that had many people at home raise their eyebrows.


”And I agree, time is of the essence,” and with his last remark an officer from inside the craft arrived to guide them to their transport. Taking the stewardess’s arm after a short polite bow, Andrew headed towards the craft. In no time at all, the vehicle took off the deck of the carrier, the ship changing course only moments afterwards. With all the appropriate notifications sent to the Catawabans, it remained to be seen how the meeting was going to proceed.

--

It made no sense, with the crisis boiling, why was he sent here? The captain of the Victoria questioned the sanity of his commanders. But… perhaps this was just an excuse, was someone back at home worried about espionage? If so his new assignment was definitely going to be interesting.

Daveed’s face became set as his 'conference' with his wife and daughter was broken in on by an urgent message. Once he had the information he headed directly to the conference room. He brushed past the Miraade's security with a soft, short comment that he had important information for Her Majesty.

At the door he paused for a heart beat, then stepped directly to his Monarch's side "Merideath" He used her middle name as a long prearranged code. "Could I speak with you for a moment in private?"

She had chuckled as Errant had teased his cabinet by trying to make them think they owed seventy nine trillion aurics in a mythical debt, rather than being the recipient of the 'pass it along'. He had had them going for a good minute until the look on his and Mercy's faces had given it away. Then they were all laughing and terribly excited. Though she had had to reassure them that it was not a loan, not charity, but a gift that one day they would pay forward. That they had been willing to accept.

Mercy used minimal make up but only Miraade Errant was close enough to see that she paled beneath her light foundation...then she was looking at him- and he could see her eyes were filled with distress. "Errant if you will excuse me." Her voice tried to stay calm, but Errant found he could hear her distress as well as see it in her eyes.

"Certainly Mercy." He said gently and watched her closely as Daveed escorted her out of the room.

Once in the privacy of her suite Daveed had her sit down on her bed. "Mercy, your grandmother died just a short time ago."

"Lillian? But she's going " 'to life forever' she was about to say - the family had long believed that, but obviously it was not true and Mercy choked back a small sob.

She wasn't as close to her grandparents as most, for she had grown up an founding, a ward of the Nation. It hadn't been until she was in her twenties that genetics testing had brought her back to her family, the powerful and wealthy Hexx clan. But in the years since they had grown as close as the strict and reclusive older woman would allow. Lillian Amadaeus Hexx had out lived three husbands and two sister wives. She was one hundred and thirty seven, and had been too old for even the earliest form of Prolong by the time it had become available.

Daveed left the room, he could tell she desired privacy, and once he had settled himself in the suites other room, Mercy laid back on the bed, curling on to her side and cried for a long time. But eventually the tears ebbed and she sat up, brushing them away with her fingers. Carefully she made her way to the bathroom and washed her face, splashing it with cold water until the redness of her nose and eyes faded.

When Daveed came in to check on her, alerted by her moving about she gave him a small smile “I’ll be alright Daveed, but we’ll need to leave after the ceremony this afternoon.. Please get every thing ready while I go apologize to Miraade Errant.

Hours later the arrival ceremony had gone exactly as planned, a moving affirmation that their navies had fought the good fight, that they were indeed worthy of the honors bestowed and that those who had made the ultimate sacrifice had not done so in vain.

Less than an hour after that Mercy and her entourage were aboard the Tanaaran HST and heading for Fatal Terrain and home. Though Mercy intended to be back in Catawba as soon as she could.

Miraade Errant had already contacted the representatives from Danirez and Wagdog requesting a rescheduling of the conference, citing Mercy's inability to remain in Catawaba during a time of familial crisis.

They had agreed to a temporary delay.