NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: If you are supposed to be here, then you know who you are. If you are unsure, TG me. Send heads of state or government, since this is suppose to be an important meeting. Don't bother RPing entering the country, the RP will begin as the Royal Army of Yanitaria's helicopters land at the chateau with all delegates, so go ahead and RP the representative's thoughts just before the meeting. When the most important people in this have posted an opening, then I'll commence, and if you haven't posted yet, then feel free to RP as if you had been there the entire time. You can bring two guards armed with pistols and ceremonial swords/daggers.

http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i156/UNDComrade/Yanitaria/YNW.png

International Summit on the Situation in Strator
The bridge leading to the castle is a perfect example of the beautiful architecture that the heads of state in all involved countries shall experience.
http://i71.photobucket.com/albums/i156/UNDComrade/Yanitaria/Armance.jpg
© Yanitarian News Wire

Armance-sur-Nièvre - Today marks the beginning of the Armance summit, which will take place at the famous Chateau d'Armance. The Premier, Dr. K. G. Henriksen, met earlier today with King Norheim II of Yanitaria to discuss strategy, as they have been doing all week, while bureaucrats attempted to sort travel arrangements with a number of world leaders for this hastily arranged peace discussion. Staff members have been seen scurrying around the premises of the chateau in order to bring it up to standard before the summit, which includes trimming hedges, and organizing catering with a local restaurant and the royal chefs, who found themselves overwhelmed as of late. It has led to a number of humorous sights, such a a military truck carrying boxes which, once opened, revealed that they carried a large number of wine bottles. Furthermore, a mail truck nearly crashed into a group of journalists as it rushed printed copies of a proposal written by Premier Henriksen and his staff, as well as a number of miscellaneous prints. The Chateau seems to be extremely well guarded, with the Gendarmerie and Armée Royal regulars patrolling the area inside and around the chateau. Occasionally, an ARY helicopter passes overhead, and YA-42 jets scream by. Lyran made anti-air systems have been stationed in the area, including one on the chateau grounds itself.

The press has been informed that all diplomats will arrive via helicopter at 13h00m, and that the delegates who will be coming have arrived at the local airport where they are being organized for the trip. The Premiers office offered the following schedule:

13h00m: Arrival
13h15m: Summit begins in main hall. Immediate topic: Cooling immediate hostilities.
13h45m: Discussion on possible resolutions of Stratorian slavery, including negotiations.
14h30m: Lunch will be served in the dining hall.
15h30m: Break, to allow heads of state to discuss privately among themselves or with their staff.
17h00m: Summit takes session again, Topic of Discussion: Resolutions, or possible implementation.
19h00m: Dinner is served in the dining hall.
20h00m: Guests will be assigned rooms in the chateau, and allowed to discuss among themselves or with staff.
8h00m: Guests will be woken up by chateau staff, unless otherwise asked.
9h00m: Light breakfast will be served in the dining hall.
11h00m: Summit begins again. Topic has not been decided, and discussion will recommence where it was left off.
14h00m: Lunch will be served in main dining hall.

It is assumed that the summit will last as long as required, or until negotiations break down, however Premier Dr. Henriksen has stated that he is very optimistic of how the discussion will go, and hopes that the visiting heads of state will also think similarly.


Copyright 2009 Yanitarian News Wire. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
URL: http://www.YNW.gov.ya/articles/ (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=551560)
© 2009 Yanitarian News Wire

OOC: Hasn't Strator retconned everything?

OOC: Strator retconned the war between him and the other forces that were beaten (I think). This is a different coalition that was originally meant to have gone in but didn't since Lyras gave a month's grace.

Château d'Armance; Armance-sur-Nièvre, Yanitaria
Christine Friedrich, by the Grace of the People Stewardess of the Revolution for the Revolutionary Commonwealth of Wagdog and its' Dominions, was feeling quite in her element again this fine day abroad upon the business of State. Another major conference to be pontificated and wheedled at among the senior statesmen and women of the world, yet again over the Slavery Question in general and Strator's occasioning it in particular, for her to bring some attempt at sense to; the headache would've been starting again now surely since this question simply refused to die it seemed despite her speaking up for liberty as best she could. Would have been starting again, that is, but for her partner in this endeavor as indeed all others: Animarnian President Molly DeLéan whose hand was discreetly but nonetheless clasped in Christine's own in just such a way that those who could read body language would get all the hints they either needed or would moreover; tact was tact and this was an official function after all. They ambled towards the hall awaiting the opening, smiling for the onlookers but equally not dawdling so as not to appear to be brandishing themselves for the tabloids which they most certainly did not even on less formal occasions. Fortunately the entourage, including the usual innocuous-looking but vital staffers such as the two men carring not-at-all portentous briefcases keeping within 30 meters of the pair at all times, helped provide some shield from those gawkers who saw fit not to return pleasantries given them they arguably didn't deserve.

Christine's sole guard, a spry and swarthy goateed man with the Committee of Public Safety's diplomatic security forces answering to Chad Amon, packing a non-standard but nonetheless available .454 Casull revolver to match what Molly's two "Section A" guards answering to Abigail O'Hara and Henry MacAlister had holstered, was already on station outside in that at once relaxed-but-ready posture only the trained could muster; made more intimidating since despite his short height and uneven gait he seemed carved from pure muscle with the face of an almost stereotypical enforcer sort you might see at some of either the Revolutionary Commonwealth's or Fortress State's seedier clubs. Frankly, Christine doubted any of the teams' arms would require use; this place could resist larger attacks than the one levied against the Second Theeb Conference so long ago by The Fighting Stars and if it came down to it she had the Vetakan-forged tsurugi-style sword she'd simply christened "Hope" with her, which dangled sheathed from a golden chain sabretasche tucked under the tricolor dress sash in the Commonwealth flag's design that she wore above her cream colored formal working blouse-and-skirt combined number. She breathed in proudly; There are indeed advantages to being one's own security at least to some extent, she thought with no little hauteur.

Molly was not least safe under her own watch; If anything, I pity the Lord Archon. He's the one under all eyes on arguably hostile territory, but then again so was his predecessor when I dealt with him at both Theeb Conferences. That had been her debut, acting as proxy for her husband Charles Lind the then-General Secretary of the then-United Socialist States of Wagdog who was basically a recluse at the time and had only gradually pulled himself into the public eye over the following years with no small amount of cajoling from his significant other's end. He still wasn't the most photogenic of leaders; dumpy if perhaps once fit, with a shaggy full brown beard and balding, he came across as quite the revolutionary-turned-nerd as almost became a stereotype and Christine certainly hadn't complained at being tapped to be the nation's public face at these sorts of functions even then. In fact it had become quite the side career even.

As they entered the main hall, exchanging the usual commentary about how beautiful the venue was and comparing it to Molly's own palace that was basically Christine's second home by now and a far more utilitarian place in the bargain even if of course plush as well, the anticipation naturally began to build. Both were coming with the intent to be reasonable with the Stratorian rulership; they had agreed to come, so that much was a good sign. But if any concessions were to be made here, they were to be earned; one way or another Christine and Molly both were going to see to it that this issue of slavery in a minor power that insisted on flaunting the institution and supporting trade of misery it spawned was at last settled decisively. How decisively, as such, was up to the Lord Archon; he seemed more sensible than his predecessor judging by the exchanges during the worst of the crisis but appearances could yet prove deceptive so best to be realistic in any event.

OOC: Strator retconned the war between him and the other forces that were beaten (I think). This is a different coalition that was originally meant to have gone in but didn't since Lyras gave a month's grace.
OOC: No forces were beaten. The retcon came before any actual strategic advance other than a bunch of countries gaining a foothold on the country.

OOC: Most of the descriptions are very biased as they are given from the double's perspective, and he is very patriotic.

To Birkaine: All forces other than your own were beaten, they had retreated, or surrendered.

The Stratorian delegate was one of Augustus Stratorius' doubles, it was doubted whether or not other nations even knew of his actual appearance (most in Strator did not), but a double was sent just in case they did.

This man was in all ways the Archon, except he just wasn't. He was one of the great leader's closest friends, most trusted allies, and over the years, he has revered the great leader, and tried to emulate him in every way. Only a year ago, did Augustus decide for the man to become his double, despite the blatant similarity in their statures. He had been putting it off, he liked the man, saw him almost as a son, and he knew of the pains of the reconstructive surgery. This man was an actor of sorts, he had perfected the mannerisms and motions of his idol. He had become Augustus, at least to the rest of the world.

Augustus prepared his act, he had to be convincing, if the other nations thought that Strator had sent their true leader to such a meeting, it would be beneficial to their opinions. Augustus was not afraid to die, he had learned that from the man whom he doubled. He would attend the summit, convince those oppressive nations to compromise, and then leave, unharmed. If the last statement was incorrect, he would have at least served his country. He had a talent for speaking, actually more so than the real Augustus. The great leader rarely spoke in public though. Being seen made a man mortal, he was no longer an ideal, or a god, but just a man, a politician, someone who may one day wither away and die, forgotten.

Augustus walked surrounded on both sides by bodyguards, these were men from the elite "Myrmidon" force, the best of the best amongst Stratorians, who in turn were the best in the world. He was safe, one of these men could take on an army, and he had two. The only problem he had was the intense heat produced by the men. This was their only failing, their metabolism was so high that they were like ovens. He cursed, if only Yanitaria was a tundra. The Myrmidons carried on their persons a pistol and swords. Despite being ceremonial, Strator had always been a nation of practicality, and if it came to it, these swords made a tough match for any other out there.

Augustus took a deep breath and looked at his guards before taking the step into the main hall. This was a summit which was held by a non-neutral power and was mostly consisting of anti-slavery nations. This summit would definitely not be in Strator's favor, but it was a better choice than sending the nation into a war it cannot win.

Field Marshal George Wallins had always been a busy man, at least for the last few years. As the director of Lyran Diplomatic Command, he was, for all intents and purposes, Lyras' Foreign Minister. He was also, until late in the previous year, arguably the General with the highest level of responsibility of any general-ranked officer in the Protectorate. Recognising this, he was promoted to Field Marshal, five-star rank. Of course, with over 160 seven-star equivalent Order-Marshals in Lyras, it would be a forgivable mistake for one to overlook one of the countless five-star officers.

In the case of Field Marshal Wallins, that would be a mistake. While, nominally, the junior to any of the six, seven or eight star officers above him, and of course the nine-star officer that was Warmarshal Krell, Field Marshal Wallins was one of exceedingly few Lyrans that, in situations such as that he was in right now, held plenipotentiary authority.

This situation was that of standing in Yanitaria, at the Chateau d'Armance, on behalf of the seriously ill Warmarshal. He was present as his direct representative. George Wallins, in every appreciable sense, spoke for Lyras, and his word would bind that state to action or otherwise.

Which was, to be frank, more than a little above what his rank and pay-grade would ordinarily have suggested.

At fifty-two, with salt-and-pepper hair and pleasant, warm, non-descript facial features, he was, for the most part, the image of a diplomat. Until such time as he stood up, when his 6'8 height and broad shoulders marked him out as a Lyran, and more precisely as a Lyran from an infantry bloodline.

Of course, the silver-trimmed black dress uniform of a Lyran Field Marshal may have also given away the country of origin, if one were versed in these things.

He and his escorts, a pair of strapping infantrymen seconded to Diplomatic Command, had arrived via helicopter, arriving inside the Chateau, avoiding the thronging media outside. Lyrans, by inclination, avoided media where possible, a dual cultural tradition of bluntness and disdain for those viewed as unproductive or dishonourable creating a potential powder-keg upon which Diplomatic Command personnel were well-briefed. When the uniquely militaristic nature of the Protectorate was also factored into the equation, standing Diplomatic Command policy was to, where possible, not be spotted or engaged by media at all, just to be on the safe side.

Ironically, it was unlikely to be of concern to Wallins. He was, in many respects, unusual for a Lyran. He was erudite, well-mannered, had a fondness for good food, spoke using contractions (near heresy in some circles of the Protectorate) and was something of a connoisseur of the arts. It was this latter point that, in fact, may have made the route via the media, more direct that it was, considerably faster than the route selected, which, as it did, wove through the exceedingly picturesque Chateau d'Armance, which, as had been indicated prior to their arrival, had a great many very fine works of art.

It was one of Wallins most voiced complaints about the state he served... the lack of fine artistic appreciation. He'd picked up the appreciation in Erukush, which had some very fine pieces in some of their more historical duchies, and had long lamented the total absence of even a pretense within the Protectorate. The closest thing to fine art he'd managed to procure from within Lyras was the customised LY46 handgun that hung at his right hip. He'd found the aesthetics of the design pleasing, and found that his pistol marksmanship hadn't suffered overly from its years of neglect. Given the Lyran legal requirement to be armed at all times, his acquisition of the LY46 had been logical on a number of levels, and he appreciated the weapon's very high stopping power, relative to most of its competitors.

Not that he expected to do more than clean it while he was here. The Yanitarians were very competent, and he had every faith in them. He had far less faith in the potential for success of these talks. He suspected that the various parties were too entrenched in their positions. He would, should these talks break down, consider it a personal failure, nonetheless. He was the Warmarshal's go-to man for difficult negotiations, and here, now, when the Warmarshal was unable to attend himself, he felt the weight even more keenly.

But, above all, Wallins was aware that the Warmarshal's grace period had expired. The ships had sailed, and were nearing Kurpsegrad. His continued communications to Bredubar were all that was keeping the Hellions from flying, and he would do everything in his power to maintain that particular status quo.

High King Vamp had arrived in Yanitaria alongside Imperial Grand Guardian Mavax and Rathma Phoenix being his only escort armed with a pistol and a ceremonial sword each. For Vamp, this was another day at the office since he had being in a number of meetings before but part of him longed for him to return to his former military career. Vamp had previously being one of the field commanders in the army before he was recongised by King Ranakin (Dead) and King Xiahou (Dead) and became the Grand Headmaster of the Vamperial Order. Under the command of the Vamperial Order, they were able to defeat and annihlate the Pirate Alliance (at a cost) and achieve a number of International War Victories. However, he later came to the Vamperial Throne after he was discovered to being the King of the Vamperial Kingdom.

"Do you think they'll accept the terms?" Mavax asked Vamp.

"Either they accept the terms and conditions, or face an invasion force," replied Rathma who was wearing a traditional ceremonail uniform of the Black Assassin League. He wore a navy blue cloak, cargo pants and shirt. His cybernetic feet however wasn't covered with boots due to the fact a boot his size wasn't created yet. Nevertheless, who would look at his feet when most of the time they were covered by the cloak and cargo pants. Mavax wore a similar uniform but a more darker navy blue colour and of course a pair of boots.

"It depends how ignorant the representive from the nation is," replied Vamp as they started to talk amongest themselves. "Some of the representive's can be idoits when it comes to neogitations who think they can state anything they want. Rathma, you have some experience, what do you think about it if you were in their shoes?"

"The only decision I had to make was when I was cornered, trapped, no reinforcements and no way of getting out," replied Rathma. "The choice I made that day was for my men. If I was him, I listen carefully and avoid a war," Rathma Phoenix was a former Rebel Commander during the Union Uprising of 2005. However, since the Vamperial Order needed an experienced Rebel to locate various illegal dealers, Rathma was given a position and sent to hunt down the last of the Rebels. Since then, he was the bodyguard to the Royal Family and a Black Assassin for the military. To him, making a decision required thinking about what your men can and can't do. For now, the three of them were talking about the up coming meeting.

Augustus saw the arrival of the representative of Lyras, and paid special attention to him. Augustus was a good 6'4" and yet the man was almost a head taller than him, he seemed to be taking in the decorations and designs which adorned the hall, objects which Augustus paid little or no heed to.

Now that the grace period granted by Lyras was up, one of Augustus' priorities was to find out what the Lyrans intended to do. The real Augustus had told him not to underestimate the Lyrans, not to let his national pride get the best of him. He saw the reasoning behind this, but surely there was no single nation which could destroy Strator? but then again, the leader was always right, he should be humble while here, pay his respects to the nation delegates whose peoples greatly outnumbered his own. Even though every Stratorian was worth three of theirs, they were still shadowed by this coalition which shook their sticks and stones en masse at the walls of the citadel.

He walked over to the Lyran slowly and confidently, trying not to show any hint of weakness in his stride, he would not grant this man such a gift. When he reached him, he out stretched his hand and said in his thick and heavy Stratorian accent.

"Hello good sir, I am Augustus Stratorius, I hope that this meeting may bring our peoples to a mutual understanding."

He felt humiliated to say this, but such a statement was necessary, not to alienate himself or Strator from the other delegates. He also saw a man entering who he knew as the High King of Lynion, he would have to do the same with him, and all others in the hall. He detested it, but he hid his feelings well. He was an actor.

President Andrew Stinson walked down the bridge to the castle where the diplomatic meetings were to be held, with two Berserker Special Ops troops. They each carried a Yanitarian made 10 mm pistol, as well as a Tulwar (OOC: http://www.ashokaarts.com/edgedweapons/ew-tulwargold2.jpg ). This would allow them to be heavily armed, but still be within the limits set by their Yanitarian hosts.

As he came to the entrance, the President saw a man that was striking up a conversation with the Lyran equivalent of a Foreign Minister. If he had to bet, Stinson would think it likely that the man making conversation with Field Marshal Wallins was from Strator.

Just thinking of that name made Stinson want to throw up with disgust at the frankly revolting thought that Strator still actively practiced slavery; which was frankly inconceivable to the alliance of nations that had finally brought Strator to the negotiating table, even if it wasn't (yet) by force of arms. However, Stinson knew that Lamonian preparations for war were still ongoing, despite this conference. All that could be done without actually loading the troops for the invasion of Strator was being done, and triple checked; in order to ensure that all was ready when the call came.

In a short amount of time, Stinson had walked up next to Field Marshal Wallins, and High King Vamp of Lynion; listening in on the conversation that had started. Trying to catch the eye of High King Vamp, Stinson game him a respectful nod. Lynion was the newest entrant to the Fedala Accords, and was therefore allied to Lamoni, just as Lyras and Yanitaria were. When Lyras had given their ultimatum to Strator, Lamoni had been among the first nations to commit their military forces to fight on their Lyran Battle Brother's side; ready to fight with all honor against this common foe.

While listening to the conversation, President Stinson stood the way that a member of the military would do, having served his time in the Lamonian Army before entering politics. Even if it was in the Artillery that the President had served, his term of service had helped to form the man that the President was today.

"Who was the guy that gave you the nod Vamp?" Rathma whispered as Mavax stood near the shadows.

"That's President Andrew Stinson of Lamoni," replied Vamp in a whisper as he glanced at Stinson. "He's our main contact in the meeting," he added as he ventured over to Stinson as Rathma followed him closely behind. "You must be President Stinson of Lamoni. My name is Vamp Kingston, may I ask your opioin on the meeting and what do you think about it?" Vamp asked Andrew. Rathma meanwhile had kept a close eye on Stinson and his bodyguards. He still wasn't sure about them.

"Hello, your Majesty." There had been enough interaction between the two nations that President Stinson knew who High King Vamp was, at least. "To answer your questions, it is my belief that these talks will go as well as both sides will allow them to; and if Strator agrees to give up their 'punishment' of slavery as a result of these talks, then it will mean that the coalition will have won a victory without firing a shot. Having served in the military myself, I will first see if there is a diplomatic solution to the crisis of the day. If there is not, I will not hesitate to send our fighting men into the situation if there is a justifiable cause for it. Strator's imposition of slavery is one such justifiable cause; as is the fact that our Lyran Battle Brothers also see that the use of force is the only response if the talks fail.

If I may ask, Your Majesty, what is your opinion on the talks?"

"I just hope they know what they're doing," replied Vamp as Rathma started to ease a little but felt unsure about the others around them. "Having peace talks is an excellent idea to show Startor we're still willing to make peace with them. However, should these talks fail, they should know Vamperial Forces are willing to fight for their belief's including the extinction of piracy and slavery," he contiuned. "It's good to see that there are nations out there willing to give peace talks a go before using military might,"

"I'm sure that Yanitaria knows what they are doing in hosting this conference, but one has to wonder if Strator would be civilized enough to hold such talks should our positions be reversed, Your Majesty.

Lamoni is quite willing to send it's forces in to defeat Strator if the talks fail, but we will wait to watch the outcome of the talks before our forces leave Lamonian soil. In the meantime, Lamonian and allied forces are training to the best of their ability, and equipment is being made ready for the journey to Strator."

'Should our positions be reversed?' thought Rathma to himself as he raised his mouth guard over his mouth as he noticed the Startorian was attempting to talk with the Lyran. 'I wonder what he means by that,'

"You should always be prepared for the worse possible outcome," started Vamp. "Vamperial Forces are also being trained for possible war and equipment is being mustered. Nevertheless, the Stratorian's must know that if they become ignorant during the talks they'll be faced with a military action they might not be able to defeat," stated Vamp while avoiding saying anything the Coalition will win the war. Like in his past, he had seen vastly out-numbered armies defeat a larger force than their own.

President Ray Ginger looked at the two Parliamentary Guards attached to him. They were wearing blue dress uniforms, with gloves and the whole deal. They each carried a 0.45 pistol. They knew they could bring ceremonial swords but the PG dropped the ceremonial swords a few years back. Instead they had very beautifully engraved PG-knives, which were sheathed and attached to their belts on the left side. Ray thought it was a little too much, but it’s hard to convince a PG not to bring as much weapons as possible. In any case, if this summit fails he will have to send boys just like these two into combat. He did not like that idea.
As the helicopter landed one of the PGs exited first, looking around for anything out of place. Ginger exited and finally the second PG. Both PGs walked 3 feet behind him as he looked for Andrew Stinson, President of Lamoni. Ginger was interested in hearing all the leaders that came to the summit, but especially the Lamonian. After all, Nachmerian trrops were training in Lamoni at this very time, yet he has never even met the leader of that country.
Ginger had looked at pictures and profiles of each leader before the summit, so e easily recognized Stinson and walked to him. He than recognized the man next oto him as High King Vamp.
“Your Majesty, President Stinson,It is a great honor to meet both of you. I am Ray Ginger, President of Nachmere”. The two PGs were standing at attention behind Ginger. Their eyes were looking at all the different, and very serious looking armed men escorting the leaders.

The Manthian party was in fact a small group; there were staffers, and military men present; they had been prepared to answer any questions which might arise during or after the conference about the Union's military contributions to the coalition. Those military contributions were still being gathered; far to the south and east of Yanitaria, in Africa and in Manthian Atrea, troops in their hundreds of thousands were being shipped to advanced staging areas in allied territory, along with millions of tons of supplies and war materiel. And in the international waters surrounding Strator, Manthian aircraft carriers were enforcing the interdiction of the Strator slave trade - and also busy watching the country from afar, launching reconnaisance aircraft and UAVs, and collecting what information could be gathered from a thousand kilometers offshore.

There were also a few diplomats of the Denomination of Foreign Diplomacy, brought along to conduct and assist in any backroom talks that might happen while the respective heads of state talked among themselves. And in the center of this knot of people, flanked on both sides by armed bodyguards - one an Egyptian Greek, muscular and bronze-skinned, with curly dark hair hidden behind sunglasses and hat, and the other a tall shaven-headed African, darker black than was usual even in the far south of the Union - was the President, walking with the discreet aid of a staffer's arm.

At ninety-one, the President no longer tried to hide the weakness of age except during public events and appearances for the news cameras; in this secure conference he walked with a cane, and the support of the man at his side. Yet it had still been deemed necessary, either by the President himself or by one of his staff, to make a certain military point; and so Saad al-Baradei had come in his old general's uniform, complete with the medals that testified to a career frequently punctuated by war. This medal was for the First Baltic War, that one for the Liberation War, those two underneath campaign and wound medals from the Great Eastern War, which even now was slipping out of living memory for all save the old - and there were many others. Such an unsubtle asssertion of military power and experience was perhaps typical of often blunt Manthian diplomacy.

Behind those medals the white-haired al-Baradei scanned the room, nodding to President Stinson and their Yanitarian hosts before seeking his seat.

Augustus saw the eyes of the foreign delegates, eyes which showed disdain, for him and for his country. They feared that which was greater than them, they feared that which they could not comprehend, the genius of the great leader. He calmed himself down, the Lord Archon would be humble here, and so he must do so as his impersonator.

In the distance he saw the Lynion and Lamoni delegates taking infrequent glances at him and his guard, most likely talking about them. He heard the word "civilized" and grimaced. They were talking about his nation, he just knew it, and they were talking of it as if it were a nation of vermin. He smiled over at them, his thick bushy mustache just curling as he did.

He had brought with him a gift for the host nation of Yanitaria, a bottle of the best quality Stratorian nectar. It was not the cheap version, which was strong and bitter, it gave warmth and strength to the Stratorian workers. It was instead the refined kind, made sweet and forgiving, a delicate alcohol, which rumors amongst those too poor to afford it, said it may cure any ailment. The bottle was made out of the finest crystal in Strator, and was resembling of something which might contain an elixir of life, it had intricate patterns and flaunted gold wing shaped handles flying from the neck. It had engraved on the obsidian cap the words translated to Latin "To peace!". And now, as he saw the reaction of the delegates, he imagined that the Yanitarians would deem it piss water or poison, and never touch the stuff.

He was too much of a patriot, the lord Archon had always said so, and he cooled himself down again. He would give the Yanitarians the gift and, think no more of its future in their wine cellars.

"Psst..." Rathma whispered to Mavax as Vamp was suddenly meet with another representive while the pair stepped away from him. "(I'll give you a month's wage if the Strator bloke breaks down half way through the meeting,)" he whispered in Unionist (Native language of Union).

"(You serious? That guy probaly didn't go into politics,)" replied Mavax in Unionist. "(Na, I reckon it's an impersonator,)"

"(What's there to lose?)" Rathma replied.

"(Nothing but a month's rage,)" replied Mavax as he turned to Augustus before turning back to Rathma. (You're on,)"

'Nachmere?' thought Vamp to himself as Rathma and Mavax came behind him as they eyed off the bodyguards of the Nachmere President. "It's nice to meet a friendly face. Do you believe the talks will be promising?" he asked him as he noticed Augustus was up to something.

To Birkaine: All forces other than your own were beaten, they had retreated, or surrendered.
OOC: Oh, lol. Guess my luck was running out when you retconned :P Though I think Jalanat was still on your soil IIRC though. I'll post later

“Well your Majesty, I certainly hope so. Troops die when diplomats fail, as I see it. Today we must be good diplomats so we don’t have to be good generals tomorrow”
He paused, wondering if he could possibly get away with a cigarette…
“Either way, the main problem is Strator’s stubbornness. I hope that the Archon will back down…”

"Hello good sir, I am Augustus Stratorius, I hope that this meeting may bring our peoples to a mutual understanding."


Wallins had been aware of the delegate's approach for about ten seconds, but hadn't tipped his hand. No need to act jumpy or provocative, after all. Wallins was, however, just a whisker surprised, pleasantly (Wallins was an affable sort, after all), at the Stratorian's greeting. Wallins' response came rumbling back, almost echoing out of his chest as the Lyran took the Stratorian's outstretched hand.

"None of that 'sir' business, Lord Archon. Lyras I may be, here, but the Warmarshal I am not. The courtesy is more than appreciated, and, to be frank, more than we had been lead to expect. We are normally a blunt people, but far too many use bluntness themselves as a mask for rudeness, and Lyrans tend not to be amongst them. Courtesy is part of what our codes of honour are built upon, one of the guiding principles of the Protectorate."

He cast an eye over the man before him, taking in as much as possible. Every stray remark, twitch and gesture would be catalogued for analysis, both by his own department, and by Lyran Intelligence.

"And yes, Lord Archon, mutual understanding is truly what we seek. Genuine, mutual, understanding, not simply an interim solution that keeps our men from shooting each other now, only to bring that situation about in another decade or so. Mutual understanding, and real compromise that we can all live with is, indeed, what interests us."

He waved off the line the conversation was taking, and indicated instead the artwork of the chateau.

"But enough of that. We have plenty of time allocated to that conversation, and I imagine we will be well sick of that soon enough. What do you think of our opulent surroundings?"

Molly DeLéan accompanied her by now partner and good friend; she was flanked either side by the every imposing Secret Service detail, which was smaller than she would have liked but they had made up for it by packing heavy; she was sure that if it came to shooting Section A would avail themselves with a terrible vengeance being Ex Special Air Service as most of Section A were. Molly felt somewhat. uncomfortable she did not like these kind of meetings at the best of times at if she could she would easily delegate it to her underling and Vice President Ed Benton who liked these meetings very much, he took great joy in the hunt and the chance and the all together fanfare of such things, Molly however did not, she was a simple woman at heart, wearing a black suit styled by some rich Damirian with a blouse open at the top but no tie. He hair had grown some in the two years she had been president her auburn locks now down around her shoulders cascading in a wavy pattern. Animarnians were a proud and some may say paranoid people, in truth they did not fully trust the Yanitarians yet and normally a full security detail would be laid on but they had been strict in there requirements still Molly herself held little confidence that these talks would bare any fruit, Strator knew one thing, and one way of changing and that was at the business end of a gun, Molly felt that while Admirable the Yanitarian efforts were naïve.

She however did put all her fears inside into a little ball and steeled herself; she would not scupper there attempts at peace; her own doubts aside, the Stratorians would do a find job of collapsing these talks on there own without her help. Animarnia was in this just a logistics aid helping to Ferry Lyran soldiers to the battle if it was to come, Animarnians were. Here to listen and watch as the Yanistarian got a harsh lesson in how the world really worked. Molly sat down in one of the comfortable chairs and opened her briefcase taking out some blue coloured file folders. Setting up ‘Mission control’ for what was to come.

"But enough of that. We have plenty of time allocated to that conversation, and I imagine we will be well sick of that soon enough. What do you think of our opulent surroundings?"

"Pleasant and fine well beyond the coarseness of one such as me, I am soldier, or at least I used to be, now I am too bogged down in state matters to experience the thrill of the front line, while I appreciate the luxury of our good hosts, I feel I cannot do so to the fullness of one more attuned to such things."

He smiled in his mustachioed manner.

"We Stratorians lack creativity, or taste for beauty, and in some ways this is a failing. Lets just say its a good thing this meeting was not held in Strator, as the surroundings would be more than dull."

He had gotten into the act, he was now Augustus, through and through, there was no place for error or weakness, which he saw the man in front of him looking carefully for.

"I have brought some gifts for our host, which I should probably set about giving ASAP. I hope we shall have a chance to speak again, out side the meeting, before it is over, Mr..."

Looking at the uniform he corrected himself.

"General, hmm, I don't believe I got your name..."

He thought about hand shakes, a custom long followed which originally said "hey, I don't have a weapon in this hand", it was a sign of peace before meetings, and after. Few people knew this nowadays, but the meaning was generally the same. He reached out his right hand in offering of peace.

“Your Majesty, President Stinson,It is a great honor to meet both of you. I am Ray Ginger, President of Nachmere”.

When President Stinson finally got a chance to speak, he made the most of it.

"Welcome to Yanitaria, President Ginger. It's an honor to meet you as well. I must say that your men are responding well to the training that we have been giving them, alongside our own forces, and those from New Manth.

But enough of that. We'll have plenty of time to talk about such matters if these talks do not work out as well as our hosts think that they might. What do you think of these talks?"

“And my generals were telling me your hospitality is unmatched. As for the talks, and like I was saying, I am hopeful they will go well. But I have a feeling the other side is simply trying to gain some more time before the fight.”

"I wonder what they are using the extra time for? They have to know that it's extremely unlikely for them to win such a war, even with guerrilla tactics. The most likely reason for them to stall is to possibly attract allies, but not many would be willing to into a fight with either Lyras or Sumer, much less both of them at the same time.

Either way, maybe we should go inside? I think that the Stratorian representative is keeping an eye on us, even as he talks to Lyras' representative."

"He's paranoid maybe," whispered Rathma to himself as he stood behind Vamp.

"We should go inside. I think the Stratorian is getting suspcious about what's going on," suggested Vamp.

Wallins accepted the smaller man's hand in the Lyran fashion, gripping the offered limb at the wrist, rather than the hand, and holding it while the conversation concluded, the old Field Marshal's eyes boring into the Stratorian's.

"I am Field Marshal George Wallins."

He paused.

"Lord Archon."

Another pause.

"My apologies for not introducing myself. It appears that my staffers have been negligent. But yes, I do look forward to talking further."

Again, a lingering pause, before Wallins released the Stratorian's wrist, nodded curtly, and turned to leave, voicing one last thought;

"I am also a soldier, Lord Archon. We should talk further. Us honest old soldiers should speak to each other plainly, and leave double-speak to the politicians."

At that he left, went to seek out President Stinson, last seen in conversation with President Ginger of Nachmere. As he headed over, he pondered the heavy symbolism. As the thought had no doubt occurred to the Stratorian, the offered handwas a gesture of peace, the showing of an empty hand. A gesture that, in honesty and integrity, Wallins had returned. He, both as Field Marshal Wallins, and as the plenipotentiary of the Protectorate, had no weapon in his hand.

It was locked and loaded, at his hip.

13h16m, Inside the Main Hall

Norheim II wasn't to happy, as he studied the heads of state outside in front of the chateau. Impeccably dressed, as always, in a stylish blue pin striped suit, with a white dress shirt, unbuttoned and with out a tie, he blew the smoke from his cigarette towards the closed window. "They don't believe in diplomacy, you know. The barbarians," he said jokingly to the busy room, as attendants placed copies of documents at the proper places at the table, and to the Premier, Dr. K.G. Henriksen.

Henriksen, who had opted for a more conservative black suit and red tie, the color of which the chromatists had objected to, but which he insisted on due to party and cause loyalty, took a drag on his own cigarette. "I'm sure," he said, "but at least we can attempt to avoid this. Psychopaths," allowing himself his own joke, "it's almost as if to them, going to war isn't a big deal. I hate that about politicians. It's just a game to them, it never really effects them. If they are in danger, then they leave their citizens to deal with their own conflicts, and hide themselves away in multi-million dollar bunkers, and wait out the storm."

Checking his gold watch, Norheim II put out his cigarette, and handed it to one of his guards to throw away. They headed towards the stairs from the minstrels' gallery where they had watched the crowd of heads of state and their guards. The passed by the tables, which had been strategically arrayed so that Norheim and Henriksen sat at the head of a giant semicircle, with the Lord Archon's name plate directly to their left, General Wallins directly to the right, with the Lamonian, and Lynion heads of state directly to the right of the general. Finally, they went through the main hall's door, with the guards pushing the ancient doors somewhat violently, in the way that often causes unsuspecting onlookers to snap their heads toward the noise. The head of state and head of government descended the steps, before Henriksen finally called out to the group.

"Welcome to la Yanitarie, my friends, and to Chateau d'Armance, we are very pleased that you have all traveled from all over the world so that we may work out this situation peacefully. Hopefully we can all come to an agreement. Now, before we start, I'd like for us all to move to the great hall in order to be seated, drinks and tobacco will be available, if you ask your attendant. If you will all please hurry, we are a bit behind schedule, just follow us."

On hearing the massively exquisite doors banging open, Christine nudged Molly gently on the off chance that the paperwork had engrossed the woman too greatly to hear so sudden a noise. Given the sound, however, that was of course unlikely; this was one King and Prime-Minister pair who knew how to make an entrance. A plus, in her mind; what she and the Revolutionary Commonwealth knew of the Yanitarians was so far positive or at-least neutral and this impression was improving it. They would surely gain credit for trying, in her eyes, even if the odds of what they were attempting remained dubious in her own well-experienced judgment; based as it was on two prior conferences on the exact same matter in which she had acted in a capcity much like that of the Lamonian delegation's here so far.

As she got up to follow the hosts and lead the way for Molly to follow, of course not ignorant of the exchange that had gone on between the Lyran and Stratorian delegations, Christine felt somewhat more optimistic for herself at least. That man knows how to dominate without inducing humiliation in the dominated; impressive, she remarked of Marshal Wallins approvingly in her thoughts. If the Stratorian delegate were so proper during the rest of the conference as now? Well then perhaps, just perhaps, something truly had changed for the better in the leadership over there somehow? A welcome departure from the usual that would be...

She didn't say that aloud since she doubted Molly would believe it absent yet stronger proof and there was no need to trouble a beloved friend while they were doubtless collecting themselves to discreetly make haste to where they'd needed to be some minutes ago already. Indeed, best they both were making time already; haste even since making the side aligned with Lyras appear slack in these matters was to be avoided wherever possible.

As President Stinson walked into the chateau, he noticed someone trying to get his attention. As he looked, he noticed that it was the Lyran representative, Field Marshall Wallins.

"Hello, Field Marshall. What are your impressions for these talks?"

Augustus nodded to the Lyran.

"Augustus would suffice, as you said we should drop the formalities and niceties which politicians use all too often. I bid you a good day"

with that he turned around promptly and moved towards the Yanitarian official in the black suit, whom he knew to be premier Henrikson.

Once he had reached him, he nodded to the Myrmidon to his right, who produce a chest laden with carvings and embeddings. The chest contained the gift of nectar, kept in clean mountain snow to ensure its cold quality. The chest was wrought out of Kurpsegradi mountain pine, a wood which grew in the cold damp snows, and as such was the best to hold them. The wood also gave a nice finish, a shiny whitish yellow surface, which some might even mistake for ivory.

"A gift to our hosts, of the finest Stratorian drink. We hope this meeting may go well"

he paused before adding what he knew was on every person in that room's minds.

"for all our sakes"

bump

Keeping an eye on the Lyran Foreign Minister in case he might wish to speak to him, President Stinson found his seat, and waited for the talks to begin. Others were still finding their seats, so President Stinson glanced at a picture of his amazingly beautiful Neo-Ixanian wife, Adelaide (OOC: http://i131.photobucket.com/albums/p281/matt518672/PMO1835.jpg ).

Stinson had a most non-presidential thought as he wondered what his beloved was doing at that moment, as Stinson predicted that he would be reasonably bored for however long that the talks lasted for the day. His wife liked to travel, so he had brought her with him to Yanitaria, but not to the Chateau. She was staying at the Lamonian embassy, and he had to remember to ask the Yanitarian Premier for permission for his wife to tour the country, as well as a reasonable escort. With the current excellent relations between Lamoni and Yanitaria, it was a good bet that such permission would be granted, but it was still polite diplomatic etiquette to at least ASK.

With those thoughts out of the way, Stinson then decided to lean back, and watch what was going on around him.

Wallins had found the tete a tete with the Stratorian interesting... but inconclusive. The issues were still being skirted around. They would get to it though, of that the man had no doubt at all. He'd have prefered it sooner, rather than later, but that was the way diplomacy worked.

President Stinson was still awaiting his response, an uncharacteristic lapse on the Lyran's part, but one that, given the more-than-cordial relationship between the states was one that would not be taken as a snub. Nor should it be... none was intended. A slip on his part, Wallins thought, but not a serious one.

"Always a pleasure, Mr President, how has the last few weeks been for you? And, more importantly, how do you envisage these talks going?"

President Ray Ginger took his seat. It was one of the most exterior ones, which he expected. Nachmere was just a small bolt in the machine of this convention. He considered talking to his Generals about adding another Division to the forces already training in Lamoni. He had a feeling the others were looking down at him because of the size of his country and of his military comitment to the Strator affair. The whole Anghele issue wasent doing him much good either, with Lyras officials making it very clear that his country should stay far away from friends like Anghele.

He took out a gold cigarette box and a gold lighter. Both were engraved with the national flag. Then he realized he canwt smoke here and put them back in his pocket.

Premier Henriksen smiled at the Stratorian head of state, offering to take the beautifully presented bottle before handing it to a guard for safekeeping. "My sincerest gratitude. I am afraid that I cannot offer you anything immediately, however I have taken the liberty of leaving a gift package in your room here in the chateau." The premier moved closer to the Lord Archon, placing an arm on his shoulder as he lead him into the main hall, slowing his pace behind Norheim II so that as the diplomats filed in, he and the Stratorian were the last to enter. "Between ourselves, I have to ask, to what extent does your nation support slavery?" he asked with an election winning smile. "I am sure we can come to a peaceful settlement here, and surely the lives of your citizens are more important than an antiquated establishment such as this? Before the summit starts, I would just like to emphasize that Strator stands to gain much from international cooperation."

As the various heads of state found their tables, and the Premier walked in, the King was already at the head of the table, not yet seated until all of his guests were. He announced to the summit, "Welcome, everyone, and I would like to thank you again for attending this important meeting. Before we begin, I would just like to remind everyone here that the immediate topic is calming immediate hostilities so that we may reach an agreement. As soon as everyone has had a seat, we will begin. You will notice that an attended is seated some distance behind you. Should you require anything, coffee, wine, cigarettes, anything at all, they will provide it to you. However, I must ask that you do not interrupt the proceedings by leaving the main hall. We will break at appropriate times, of course, but for now, allow us to continue the summit until lunch time. If we can come to an agreement over the immediate hostility quickly, then perhaps we will break early, as the presentation we have prepared as our initial proposition to the resolution of the conflict is quite lengthy, running at least two hours, so that it will fit with in the time slot between our break and dinner. I realize that many of you have not had lunch yet, and it is rather late for it, so our kitchen has prepared a light menu, which should hopefully last until the evening."

Augustus thought a second before answering.

"My nation has existed as it is for two thousand years, one dynasty of Stratorii who have led my people since the beginning of this time. A claim very few nations may match. From the first day of this nation, we have had slaves, survivors of enemy nations or criminals of the worst kind, murderers and traitors. Needless to say, slavery has become a part of our culture. Slaves are only made of criminals, and the practice has proven to be a deterrent, Strator has a very low crime rate in comparison to many other nations. It also allows for us to put criminals to good use."

He paused, partially for effect, partially to allow himself to compose his answer.

"This is not to say, however, that we may not be able to change this. Slaves have always worked alongside the Stratorian people, increasing the workforce, but not taking it all upon themselves. Many Stratorians are very strong supporters of slavery, so a change of the system would be difficult, but not impossible."

Augustus then looked the Yanitarian premier in the eye and asked.

"I think an equally valid question would be to what extent your nation opposes slavery? If their conditions were better, and we did not try to spread them internationally, would you still oppose it?"

Wallins allowed himself a moment to consider what was before him. Heads of state (or, as in his case, plenipotentiaries) for arguably some of the most powerful and influential states in the world were discussing a situation which could blow over into a war involving hundreds of millions of combatants.

It was sobering.

King Norheim II of Yanitaria announced the planned layout of the day's discussions, and they were much as expected. His majesty was certainly far better at officiating than his reputation for getting things done would have expected. It was rare that the practically minded were quite so erudite in matters requiring the subtlety of these events.

Wallins had a vice. Most did, but amongst Diplomatic Command, which was, in many respects, Wallins' personal empire within Lyras, Wallins' own vice was quite pronounced. The good Field Marshal had something of a weakness for fine food. Lyras was not renowned for good food. Lyran food was exceedingly nutritious, long lasting, small in both volume and mass, and relatively easy to produce in the numbers required. But taste was a very distant priority for the military machine of the Protectorate. He found himself anticipating the coming meal break with more relish than he had originally thought likely.

Wallins keyed his microphone, choosing to take the first speech on the topic of the moment. No point dragging this out, after all.

"Your majesties, Mister and Madame Presidents, Chancellors, Lord Archon, Premiers, Prime Ministers, thank you for coming, and thank you in particular to our hosts, who have so championed the cause of righteous peace in this otherwise black time."

He halted half a beat, letting his greeting and salutation be registered, and also allowing for those not listening to wake up and pay attention.

"The Lyran Protectorate is not, at this moment, supporting any hostilities being conducted against the Dominion of Strator. Our fleets have sailed, and are less than 4000km from the Stratorian coastline, but are under orders not to engage until I send word that diplomatic avenues have been exhausted. Each morning, and each evening, I send a signal instructing the fleet to hold off hostilities for a further 24 hours. Should I not send a signal, then there is about twelve hours before the next needs to be sent, or the fleet will initiate its operations."

He let that point also enter the delegates' minds.

"Let me be very clear, however. I have every confidence in the sincerity of those who are here. Everyone. While these negotiations continue, in good faith, no aggressive action will be taken against the Stratorian Dominion, or its assets and/or hodlings. None whatsoever, on that you have my word."

"Always a pleasure, Mr President, how has the last few weeks been for you? And, more importantly, how do you envisage these talks going?"

"The past few weeks have been very good for me, Field Marshall. I spent much time with my wife; though I didn't get much sleep." A good natured wink at the Lyran was intended to be the universal way of getting across what HAD happened, and then King Norheim II announced that the conference was about to get underway.

---

While the Lyran representative spoke, Stinson was properly attentive, and played the diplomatic role to the hilt. Even if Wallins was only talking about things that both had, and hadn't been predicted long before, it was long standing diplomatic tradition that everyone was expected to be properly attentive to the diplomatic droning, while sifting the words themselves for the true meanings. Every government in the world played this game... when it suited them to do so. The problems started when it no longer suited the governments in question to play these long winded word games. Stinson's only hope for this meeting was the prevention of needless deaths, but he would throw his forces alongside those of Lyras, Sumer, and the rest if the talks failed. That didn't mean that he had to like the process, however.

Augustus thought a second before answering.

"My nation has existed as it is for two thousand years, one dynasty of Stratorii who have led my people since the beginning of this time. A claim very few nations may match. From the first day of this nation, we have had slaves, survivors of enemy nations or criminals of the worst kind, murderers and traitors. Needless to say, slavery has become a part of our culture. Slaves are only made of criminals, and the practice has proven to be a deterrent, Strator has a very low crime rate in comparison to many other nations. It also allows for us to put criminals to good use."

He paused, partially for effect, partially to allow himself to compose his answer.

"This is not to say, however, that we may not be able to change this. Slaves have always worked alongside the Stratorian people, increasing the workforce, but not taking it all upon themselves. Many Stratorians are very strong supporters of slavery, so a change of the system would be difficult, but not impossible."

Augustus then looked the Yanitarian premier in the eye and asked.

"I think an equally valid question would be to what extent your nation opposes slavery? If their conditions were better, and we did not try to spread them internationally, would you still oppose it?"

"Yes, it is unfortunately an ideological difference. The only sort of slavery, I am afraid, that my administration would allow is slavery under which the slaves in fact were heinous criminals. However, as our Lyran friends have pointed out, this is not the case. Furthermore, I think you should note that it may not be economically sound (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavery#Economics) to continue to practice slavery. Just something to consider."

At this point, the Lyran diplomat had just begun to speak, and the Premier left the Lord Archon to take his seat. Norheim II waited until the Lyran was finished, and then spoke.

"If all parties, then, would agree to hold off immediate hostilities... then we can immediately break for lunch, and simply pull up the schedule up. After our break, we will show our presentation on a possible resolution, and begin discussion from there. But because it seems a tad ineffectual to break for lunch so early, I'd like to at least hear opening statements of position from both the Lord Archon, the the Field Marshal. If Wallins doesn't mind, we should start with the Stratorian representative."

Augustus nodded, he had chosen to prepare his speech himself, and knew it may lack the graceful flow of words so many more practiced diplomats and leaders would surely have. But he was to be sincere, perhaps a little too blunt, but sincere nonetheless.

"Thank you, Field Marshall, it is good to know we are not under immediate threat."

He smiled slightly, underneath his thin mustache.

"It is not our intention to ever allow this statement to become false. Strator, my nation, and my people, do not want hostilities."

He paused so that this may be taken in, this was perhaps the most important thing he would have to say all day. More than perhaps, it WAS the most important this he would say. He let the statement be blunt, there was to be no veiling of statements such as this.

"Strator has grown since its formation, it is now more vast, more populous and stronger than it has ever been, but still, we are but a small nation amongst those of all the world. Two thousand years, we have existed as one people, led throughout, by the line Stratorius. Yet throughout this time, foreign relations, for the most part, have been limited.This is our failing. With that said, be it known, that Strator, as a whole, wishes these talks go well, and perhaps friendships be formed."

He did not look at his notes, but instead, looked to the eyes of the other leaders, looked for their response. Again, he paused, but briefly.

"The issue at hand here, the reason this summit is taking place, is my nation, or our practices, one in particular. Slavery. Slavery, Forced labor. This custom has existed in Strator for two thousand years. Since the formation. Before we were a nation, we were several peoples, all held under check in a war against barbarian savages. They raped our women, killed our children, and took prisoners of our men to use as their own slaves. They massacred many of the peoples who opposed them. Those who remained formed a coalition, led by my ancestor, Antonius Stratorius II. This coalition eventually defeated the much larger force, which had so tormented them. We repaid them in turn, all survivors of their people, were taken as slaves. I neither support or disagree with this decision, my ancestor had little other choice, the hatred between their people, and the peoples of the coalition, was too strong to ever die."

He had gone into Strator's grim past, which some may argue would hardly do wonders for diplomacy, but he felt it was necessary.

"The were not the only slaves, our own criminals and traitors joined them, for however long a sentence a court may give them. In time it was decided that the sons and daughters of our enemies did not commit their crimes, and they were freed, and even later they became a complete part of our society."

Now came the part which he knew must be done well. He was to explain the current slave laws in Strator, but he had to do so carefully. He cannot sound like he was preaching them, but he also felt the urge to try and convince these other leaders that there was nothing wrong with the practice.

"Only slavery as crime punishment remained, murderers, rapists, and other such persons who hampered the progress and peace of society as a whole. The crime rate is very low in Strator. These criminals would give back to society in a way they couldn't in prisons. This is our mentality, we are a very utilitarian people, more so than most. The slaves work only in positions alongside other Stratorians, and their conditions are not too poor, worth as much as the work they get done, which is a decent amount in most cases. Rehabilitation through hard work for the good of the country, this is our practice."

Augustus now paused.

"Know this, my nation is not reliant on slavery, it improves our output, is a part of our nation's history, and has rehabilitated many criminals successfully. But should it prove to be such a great obstacle in diplomatic relations, then it will be phased out."

He felt weak, his people did not fear war, it was also part of their culture, but in the end, diplomacy and trade was necessary, and war was best prevented. He would do all he could to change their opinions, but should this summit of nations so clearly condemn the practice, the Lord Archon would drop it. But Augustus would have failed. The Lord Archon might kill him, might not, but it did not matter, Augustus would never forgive himself, his death was necessary, even if by his own hand.