Isira
11-01-2009, 00:26
It was a cool night in Kirav, the winds seemingly halting as Trinity , the luxury aircraft of the Prime Minister, flew through their nation's aerospace. It was the first diplomatic conference of a certain Jakob Segeb, and he donned an expensive suit with a dark blue tie, something he had never enjoyed doing but recognising the importance that he didn't conduct this conference in jeans.
The Prime Minister wasn't alone. No, the Foreign Minister, Ehud Ben-Aharon and the Defence Minister, Kailah Barak, were joining him tonight, as nobody knew where this conference might lead. He had meet Kailah back in the IAT (Isiran Autonomous Territories) days, whenever she saved his life with a particularly good shotgun.
They all knew that the fate of Kiravian-Isiran relations was in the balance here. If the Isirans messed up, then the country would be discovering what it was like to fail at shooting down enemy aircraft. If the Isirans did well, then there would be trade and a new ally, and vice versa. However, they all knew that Kirav wouldn't destroy relations here. Hoped was a better word.
"Landing now, Jakob," reported Kailah, checking her watch.
The Prime Minister wasn't alone. No, the Foreign Minister, Ehud Ben-Aharon and the Defence Minister, Kailah Barak, were joining him tonight, as nobody knew where this conference might lead. He had meet Kailah back in the IAT (Isiran Autonomous Territories) days, whenever she saved his life with a particularly good shotgun.
They all knew that the fate of Kiravian-Isiran relations was in the balance here. If the Isirans messed up, then the country would be discovering what it was like to fail at shooting down enemy aircraft. If the Isirans did well, then there would be trade and a new ally, and vice versa. However, they all knew that Kirav wouldn't destroy relations here. Hoped was a better word.
"Landing now, Jakob," reported Kailah, checking her watch.