The Match (Closed, Cornellian Nations Only, other TG)

[New Edom]

To: General Khavar T'avish, Protector of Nalaya
From: Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab, President of the Council of Ministers
Subject: Movement
Encryption: Delivered to the Protector in sealed envelope by the hand of William Touchstone, Ambassador to the Military Protectorate of Nalaya

---

Dear Protector,

I salute you and hope that this letter finds you well. I honour our alliance and the peace that has been established between us since the time of Mr. William Touchstone and Anahid Vaneni and was upheld by you and I. I have not seen you since I was in Sevan for the conference on dealing with Norvenia, but I remember you with great admiration.

It is with regret that I must write to you of a threat to the regional peace in Southern Acheron once more. It seems that the Deadoran Empress blames the destruction of the power plant in Deadora on a certain warlord named Ajam in N. Dengali. It has come to my intention that there has been a military incursion by Deadoran forces across the border.

However no proof of any terrorist link has been established beyond a vague mention in the newspapers, and while we offered a joint investigation, it was refused. We are concerned that an overextended Shrailleeni Empire may prefer to allow annexation of a province or two of Dengali's to avoid coming to blows directly with the Deadorans.

It is therefore in my mind to be prepared to send reinforcements to protect a smaller nation from being divided up against its will. The excuse of this warlord is to my way of thinking no excuse to permit attacks on another nation's sovereignty. I would like to ask if you would accept passage through Nalayan airspace in order to allow me to reinforce Dengali. If I do this, I believe it would avert war as I am sure after last year's incident on Magna Lacuna that the Deadorans do not want direct war with New Edom.

I look forward to your reply.

sincerely,
Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab
President of the Council of Ministers

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Dressanna, Marbidi Province
Southern Dengali

The Queen greeted her guests with a traditional Shrailleeni movement, her left hand placed over her heart and her right placed palm-out in a motionless wave. To Jacqueline she inclined her head in recognition of the woman's roughly equal status, careful to hold her gaze. Making eye contact among equals in Shrailleen was usually meant as a challenge, she did not know if this was so in Deadora but years of habit kept her brown-gold gaze steady. She had met few Deadorans in her life, and this Jacqueline was unlike any of them. If Shrailleeni nobility were like ice, unemotional and calculating, then this Deadoran noble was like barely-tamed fire.

The man, Erryk, wore a reserved expression that did not take away from the impression of comfortable command that marked the body language of those accustomed to rule. Gillya knew that interactions with men in Deadora were different than in the Empire, but she was not about to give up too much cultural ground in her own chambers. She inclined her head toward him as well, a nod more than a bow, acknowledging his presence and his rank. The man bared his neck to her in return, an odd gesture but one quickly understood. She noted that the Prince was not unattractive, though his high cheekbones and ivory skin were not as comforting to her as Jonathon's rich ebony and square jaw.

Governor Butler, for his part, sized up their guests interestedly. He had met Deadorans before, but never a member of the Imperial House. He knew that he owed Jacqueline his respect, but the idea of what respect for a woman meant in Dengali was different from that in Shrailleen and altogether different from what it meant in Deadora. He estimated that by their standing, he was on a station just under Gillya and probably under Erryk as well, but as Governor and, perhaps, future leader of Marbidi he did not wish to give up too much ground on this greeting. In the end he bowed to Jacqueline, dutifully avoiding her gaze but making no other supplication. Erryk's studying glance was matched with Butlers cool return, and the Governor nodded to the man without giving ground. The Prince was powerful, he could tell, and there was something else discomforting about that stare. Were all Deadoran men this challenging to each other? He wondered.

"Greetings to you Detzhael al-kohl Jeiklin-ka," Gillya was saying in a passably accented Nadirii. Governor Butler hid his surprise, as he had not known that she was familiar with the language on any level. "I welcome you and your brother," she avoided saying 'Prince' as Jacqueline had not, "into my home with honor and happiness, in the name of the family Sevreen and of Her Enlightened Majesty, the Mother Empress Chella Resyanna fe Shrailleen."

Governor Butler was about to speak when Jacqueline continued. At first he was annoyed, but as she continued both he and Gillya soon saw the great importance of her words. The Queen and Governor took seats across from Jacqueline, Gillya sitting first as was proper, and the two of them exchanged a look together as Jacqueline delivered her macabre news.

"This is...worrisome news indeed," Gillya finally responded. "It is true that Ajam has never been a friend of matriarchy, and that threats against our Sisters in Kadisa have been growing for several months. But I had never imagined that the warlord was planning an atrocity of that scale."

"It is more than worrying, it is disturbing," Governor Butler added. He and Gillya had discussed beforehand how they were to handle the meeting with the Deadorans. They had decided that before he spoke, Gillya would give him a look that indicated that it was time. They felt that it would be a good balance between courting Deadoran sensibilities and stressing the Governor's critical role in running things despite his gender. "Your Majesty," he directed at Jacqueline without meeting her eyes, "my people have long suffered under the yoke of foreign patriarchies. The Shrailleeni have helped us to reconnect with the Mother and our proud roots, but still those who follow the old ways of the Wise Women or the Truth of the Mother Goddess are a minority in this land. If what you say is true, then my people are in grave danger, and owe the Matriarch Empress our thanks."

"Indeed," the Queen agreed carefully. "I do not doubt your sincerity in telling us this. But we have gotten reports that the noble forces of the Matriarch Empress have crossed the border into Tabora. I fear that this has placed the Mother Empress in a most difficult position. The Dengali-Shrailleeni-New Edomite Mutual Defense Treaty is quite clear, that if a foreign power sends military forces onto Dengali soil the Shrailleeni Empire is honor-bound to oppose it. To do anything less would be to bring great shame and dishonor to the House of the Mother Empress. To have brought this information to light in advance of your nation's attempt to stop Ajam would have been most appreciated by Her Enlightened Majesty. However, given the dreadful nature of the plot, I am certain that My Mother Empress will understand the Matriarch Empress's reasons."

Governor Butler remained quiet as Queen Gillya pointedly met Jacqueline's gaze, her face stoney and severe. There were several ways to go about this meeting, the subtle and the frank. Few cultures understood the exquisite art of subtlety as well as the Shrailleen, for whom the unspoken was often more clear than the spoken. The Deadorans may be one of them, but there were dangers both to speaking too truthfully and to being too concealing. Gillya had to toe that line.

"The governments in Josiastown and Fineberg, however, may not. But I am certain that the motives for the removal of Ajam are of the purest intention, and not merely an attempt to obtain land or power. The Matriarch Empress, as we know, has more than enough of both. If Ajam has been planning great evil upon the people of Dengali, then the land that he controls can hardly be considered to be a part of the Dengali Republic any longer. And if he has gone rouge, then he is a threat to the people of Deadora as well as the people of Dengali."

[Nalaya]

To Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab, President of the Council of Ministers
Arzhani Khavar T'avish, Protector of Nalaya
Regarding Movement
Encryption Delivered to Perrin Pahath-Moab in a sealed envelope by the hand of Maro Rshtuni, Ambassador to the Allied States of New Edom

---

Arzhani,

It is always a great pleasure and a great honor to be in correspondence with you. I wish you the best of health and hope that our alliance will continue. It is in the spirit of that loyalty that I make this reply to you, in fact. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the Matriarch Empress and I have been in some communication with Deadora regarding the unpleasantness at the border. It is time to lay those old ghosts to rest. However, I still am keenly aware of the great affection that Nalaya has for New Edom and the esteem that I hold you in.

Since the unrest in the Shrailleeni Empire was brought to my attention by one of the Anur, currently there and somehow embroiled as they so often are, I will admit that I have been concerned about the fate of their sphere in the region. It is unfortunate truth that many jackals will circle a wounded lion, seeking to take advantage of its injury.

It is to no one's benefit that a nation like Dengali be set upon and carved apart unwillingly. The flames of war have burned too brightly in Acheron for too long. I would not have such flames inflicted upon others who have enjoyed peace instead.

Far be it from me to deny our noble ally the ability to fulfill their promise to Dengali. I grant my permission that Nalayan airspace be used to move the troops of the Allied States of New Edom. I extend to every one of your soldiers the protection of Nalaya's hospitality while they pass through our borders, may every one of them return home safely.

I hope above all things that this will not come to an open war, but I am prepared to face the consequences should such a situation arise. One should always be prepared to pay that terrible price for peace, whether the white dove come to rest upon one's own shores or that of another.

Sincerely,

Khavar T'avish, Protector of Nalaya

[New Macureus]

"Citizen General, this report is very grave, concerning Dengali. The detestable, inequitable swine called Deadorans have opted to blame a local military commander and instigate an incident as a pretext for aggressive conflict, Citizen Supreme Commander," Captain Ara Vutin, the General's military aide, informed him.

"Citizen Captain, you have my gratitude for this. This matter must be rectified. I will instruct Citizen First Commissar Vair Padin to dispatch a notice directly to Brigadier General Perrin Pahath-Moab now, bypassing, regrettably, the Edomite Ambassador. I warned of the dangers of instability in Dengali, but my warnings were not taken seriously enough, it would seem. Now action must be taken, and urgently at that," Melin informed the typically colorless Vutin, who still had trouble breaking out of the emotionless habits of her past.

Melin picked up the phone, retreated to the privacy of the base commander's office, which he had commandeered for now, and then dialed Vair.

Five minutes later, he returned and smiled a little before stepping onto the plane with Vutin, who still didn't understand why the Supreme Commander was able to shake off the old thinking of the Logical Council era.

Thirty minutes later, a special dispatch was sent directly to Perrin, via e-mail.

To: Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab
From: Citizen Vair Padin, First Commissar of New Macureus
CC: Dengali
Encryption: High

Citizen President,

Some time before, the Supreme Commander, General Ios Melin, warned of the increasing danger of instability in the Shrailleeni Empire and its possible impact on Dengali. At the time, he was under the impression that these concerns were brushed aside by Ambassador Sif Finnhald, with whom he spoke. All that he got from her was a non-committal offer to seek New Macurean assistance in case of the worst.

Now, however, with Deadora propagandizing what is presumably a pretext for war, it is time for something more concrete and his previous offer to assist in the stabilization of Dengali by means of providing assistance to those citizens whose loyalty to Acheronian interests rather than Shrailleeni, is hereby repeated through me. It is the considered opinion of this Government that trusting one matriarchy to prevent another taking over part of a patriarchal, tribal Dengali would be a considerably grave blunder on the part of any leader, and he naturally trusts that you know this, given your demonstrably prudential judgment.

While events elsewhere have held our attention of late since that rebuff, particularly his, he is most concerned that the Shrailleeni will simply invite the Deadorans in at their word and platitudes about Sisterhood and Leenic virtue (utter bovine manure, of course). It is the considered view of this Government that any Deadoran military presence in Dengali represents a clear and present danger to the national security of all Acheronian states. The Othmani War was not that long ago, after all, and what is to prevent Jennifer Thrall from achieving what Targan and Galak failed to accomplish? We should all take considerable care to avoid such a fate for all of Acheron.

What General Melin wishes to do is offer armaments and other forms of assistance, perhaps even technical advisers, to General Ajam and other loyal citizen-soldiers of the Dengali Republic, as well as any tribal leadership whose loyalty is beyond question. Simply put, he does not wish to see the Republic fall and matriarchy replace patriarchy as the new oppression. None in this region or continent are better off with Dengali annexed as a province of Deadora or divided between Deadora and Shrailleen.

With felicitude and sincerity,
Vair Padin, First Commissar of New Macureus

Another note for General Ajam....

To: General Ajam
From: Vair Padin, First Commissar of New Macureus
CC: Dengali/Deadora mess


Citizen General,

I will be brief and blunt here. New Macureus does not intend, whatever New Edom or Shrailleen do, to simply stand by and allow Deadora to annex Dengali or partition it with Shrailleen. General Melin has instructed me to inform you that you can expect us to prepare assistance to you, by whatever means does not provoke war with New Edom, to aid you in extirpating this peril. We will not simply allow the iron stiletto of the Nadiri and particularly the Thrall dynasty, which are what constitute the essence of the Feminist Empire, to expand at your expense. Corrective measures might be taken, perhaps even against Josiastown and Dressanna, if necessary, but we will protect the people of Dengali from the peril of the so-called 'Enlightened' world. If you need help from New Macureus, be sure to request it, and we will do our best to aid you in hurling back this threat. We do not for a second believe that this terrorist incident was anything but a pretext for war.

Science and reason,
Vair Padin, First Commissar of New Macureus

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Defense Command Dengali,
Dressanna, Marbidi Province

The Dengali Defense Command lay in the most polished area of the city of Dressanna. Once it had been almost isolated, but over the recent decade urban expansion had brought the city closer to the military compound than some Shrailleeni military leaders were comfortable with. The base contained a state-of-the-art headquarters, military docks for the Command's fleet of frigates, and an air base to house the three Squadrons of the Dengali Air Command. It was also the permanent headquarters of the 23rd Mechanized Infantry, the largest operational unit in Shrailleeni Dengali.

All intelligence regarding the nation of Dengali, both that gathered independently by Shrailleeni sources and those shared by the Dengali and New Edomite governments, was centered here. When a flight of fighters had been dispatched to escort the Deadoran nobility to Dressanna, they had reported movement at the border which indicated an invasion force. While DDC could not engage the invasion without formal approval from the Queen of Dressanna, they did have standing orders regarding the response to take in the event of an invasion.

The 1st and 2nd Dengali Aerial Command Squadrons were quickly put on alert, and mobilized. The forty-eight fighters under those commands would fly North immediately to ascertain the nature of the situation and, if necessary, regain control of Northern Dengali air space. They were not to combat the elements that they found there yet, but their mobilization would remind the Deadoran's of their presence while Command awaited confirmation orders.

While this was being done, all elements of the 1st Dressannan Infantry Battlegroup were being placed on high alert. The 23rd began preparations, refueling, checking supplies and ammunition, and rounding up soldiers who might be on leave in the city. The 3rd and 4th Reform Cavalry Sub-Battlegroups were ordered to converge on their respective gathering locations. The 1st Dressannan Artillery broke its pieces out of storage, and refueled its mobile verynnas and rocket-launch systems. The news was impossible to keep quiet as the orders descended, the Deadorans had entered Dengali.

In this atmosphere of anxious preparation, Army Matriarch Vellat Attara was surprised to find an urgent message on her computer from Imperial Intelligence Dengali. With so many surprises already coming up, and no word yet from Her Majesty or the Royal Palace, she couldn't imagine what more could be thrown into the equation. But the Army Matriarch was a career military woman, and her surprise quickly gave way to suspicion. That suspicion was founded as the intelligence report unfolded in front of her.

It was a decoded transcript of an Email, which had entered the country from an internet provider based in New Macureus. The Email had been flagged by the Dengali government as it had been sent on a line to Tabora province, indeed the only line to Tabora province, one used by the Republic to communicate with Warlord Ajam. The Encryption was tough, but with enough time and New Edomite computational equipment it quickly became clear. The Army Matriarch's eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she read it.

To: General Ajam
From: Vair Padin, First Commissar of New Macureus
CC: Dengali/Deadora mess


Citizen General,

I will be brief and blunt here. New Macureus does not intend, whatever New Edom or Shrailleen do, to simply stand by and allow Deadora to annex Dengali or partition it with Shrailleen. General Melin has instructed me to inform you that you can expect us to prepare assistance to you, by whatever means does not provoke war with New Edom, to aid you in extirpating this peril. We will not simply allow the iron stiletto of the Nadiri and particularly the Thrall dynasty, which are what constitute the essence of the Feminist Empire, to expand at your expense. Corrective measures might be taken, perhaps even against Josiastown and Dressanna, if necessary, but we will protect the people of Dengali from the peril of the so-called 'Enlightened' world. If you need help from New Macureus, be sure to request it, and we will do our best to aid you in hurling back this threat. We do not for a second believe that this terrorist incident was anything but a pretext for war.

Science and reason,
Vair Padin, First Commissar of New Macureus

"Corrective measures might be taken, perhaps even against Josiastown and Dressanna?" The Army Matriarch, like any intelligent Shrailleeni, had never trusted the New Macureans. But they had made a mistake this time, and they had been caught making it. This missive was a clear attempt by none other than Vair Padin to court the loyalty of a well-known warlord and petty criminal against not only Shrailleen, but the Republic of Dengali as well.

She still had very little idea of what political story was taking shape here, but she was not a politician. And as a soldier, she dutifully printed out the Email as a report, sealed it, and sent it to Queen Gillya Venda fe Sevreen in the hands of a courier and marked with the utmost urgency.

North Kadisa Province,
Town of Biyamuda

Yessen and her Command had spent all night riding to the North, tiring both themselves and their mounts to follow the cryptic order of the Battle Sub-Matriarch. The Commander had no idea what was going on, only that her regular patrol pattern was being interrupted so that the entire 3rd Reform Cavalry Sub-Battlegroup could gather at the Shrailleeni outpost in Biyamuda. These things happened from time to time, usually in order to assign different Commands to different patrol routes or to compare techniques for dealing with the natives. Of course, the last time that it had happened Shrailleeni Defense Command Dengali had been expecting an invasion.

As such, rumors were flying between the women under Yessen's command about why exactly they were here. Most of them contended that Warlord Ajam, who controlled most of neighboring Tabora province, was finally making a grab for more power, and that they were being called in to stop him. Their opponents argued that the more likely scenario was a Deadoran invasion, as hadn't the Deadorans been attacked by the warlord recently? Still others contended that the Mak'ur were launching a raid from Nalaya, or even that the Imperium was organizing a secret invasion. She tolerated idle speculation to a point, a careful ear given to any talk that might lower morale or point to treason. But she was as tired and miserable as the rest of them, and had to admit that the order to move through the night was abnormal at best.

They were sitting around the Command Headquarters as dawn broke over Dengali drinking imported coffee and awaiting further orders. The building was one of several cheaply-made in the outpost near the town, designed to temporarily harbor Shrailleeni troops as they made their patrols of the nation. So when the jets began flying overhead, the entire steel frame of the structure rattled from the sound of dozens of engines.

Ordering her women to remain at their seats, Yessen took it upon herself to find out what was going on. Sliding the front entrance open, she looked up to see the vapor trails of forty-eight Sparrowhawks flying North in flights of four, filling the sky with the sound of their passing. She watched them with a curiosity mixed with growing unease. Something really was going down if half the Air Command was in the skies over Northern Dengali.

No sooner had she retreated back inside to the ill-hidden curious looks of her women than the door was once more opened behind her. Battle Sub-Matriarch Tressa Valera entered, her new-model uniform crisp and a sword at her side. Yessen turned on a dime and saluted, and to her pleasure she heard the rest of her command do the same in nearly synchronous order. The BSM looked over the women with the barest hint of approval before returning the salute.

"Commander," she ordered in a strong, clear voice, "the 3rd is moving North into Tabora as the vanguard for the 4th and 23rd. Your command will take the center position. We are waiting for confirmation from Central Command, but at this time you should operate under the assumption that you will be engaging in delaying actions against the Deadoran military."

"Yes My Matriarch!" Yessen replied with a salute. There was no room for interpretation in that order.

"The Operation is being codenamed Shaded Grove. You have four hours to catch some rest, and then we are headed North."

Another salute, and the Matriarch departed. Lessen turned back to her women.

"Alright Ladies, you heard the order. Get some rest."

"Commander," one of her Lieutenants ventured, "are we really going to be fighting Deadorans?"

Yessen could tell that this news was being received with mixed feelings. She decided to put a stop to that.

"Indeed it is. If our Sisters to the North invade an ally of the Mother Empress, then they have disrespected Her Enlightened Majesty, our Empire, and our Houses! We have a duty, and we shall uphold it with honor until our Sisters see reason. And if they do not, we shall make them see reason."

[New Macureus]

"So, this is rather....inconclusive evidence, Citizen First Commissar. Was it wise to have it doctored like that? What if the General learns that you embellished things? It was....improvident, Citizen Padin," Citizen Second Commissar Anu Namin warned her.

"That is neither your particular concern at this interval nor even mine now. I have larger considerations to pursue at this particular moment, as you may recollect, Citizen Second Commissar. The Feminist Empire of Deadora is not just an enemy of New Macurean national interests, but a considerably adverse influence in this region. It must be brought to book, constrained or controlled, sooner or later.

"The Shrailleeni Empire is nothing more or less than a medieval monarchy dominated by its ruling caste. They are a pernicious influence on Dengali, despite their assistance, which was nothing more or less than soft imperialism. I had to take action. General Melin himself was too easily persuaded not to move ahead with this, thanks to his hopeless and pointless fascination with that naked harridan, Ambassador Finnhald.

"It was my responsibility as First Commissar to pursue the national security interests of the State ahead of even the wishes of General Melin. The trouble with him embracing a more inclusive attitude toward emotions is that he has allowed his emotions to distort his judgment at times, tolerating what he should never have permitted. He succumbed too easily to her negative, almost-Svengali influence over him. Since she has an unhealthy, pathological fondness for the Shrailleeni due to their past associations, she was able to convince him, but I doubt that even Perrin Pahath-Moab has much use for them. I could be mistaken, but that is my belief.

"Both of these empires are nothing but trouble, and the sooner that they are extricated from Dengali, the better. If it were up to me, the Shrailleeni Empire would collapse sooner rather than later, but he refused to permit the plan to aid the Mulderan insurgents when the opportunity came. That was another chance to subvert feudalism and other backwardness thrown away forever. The Feminist Empire of Deadora is nothing more or less than a tribal confederation united only by geography, history, and a mutual disregard for half of its population. Matriarchy is a colossal waste of resources, especially human resources, plain and simple.

"So, for that cause, Citizen Commissars, I am perfectly prepared to stipulate that this was my decision. If it means my permanent downfall, I am prepared to accept the consequences. If you have issues with my decision, you can take it up with General Melin later. Feel free to log it in your journals. I will face the consequences and accept them, knowing that this is larger than me. The national interests of New Macureus require the expulsion of Shrailleen from Acheron and Deadora from Dengali. We cannot have an Acheron free of thermonuclear threats if such regimes are on the same continent with us, expanding territory and potentially basing thermonuclear warheads and ICBMs. So, yes, I prevaricated. I fabricated. I embellished. I lied. Get over it or leave this room now! There is the door!" Vair indicated the sealed door to the Commissariat conference room.

None stirred, mostly because they wanted to still be in position to replace Vair when she fell, and now they were sure that she would. If they left the room, they were no fools....they would be terminated, and possibly in more ways than one. Vair was in command for now, State help the nation, more than a few of them thought.

[Deadora]

Tabora Province
Northern Dengali

A Company, 3rd Heavy Infantry Battalion
Advance to East Lova
Captain Deirza had her own command APC, but when the bullets started flying she joined the boots on the ground. First blood of the battle, first blood of the war, was so sweet. There was no door in the Tower where she wasn't tasting it alongside the women and men she led. Her boots touched down on the savannah soil, the stock of her AK pressed against her shoulder; and then she was engulfed. Bullets rattled the side of the APC rumbling slowly along with her, punctuated by the boom of the 100mm gun's return fire. A soldier to her left screamed and went down clutching his leg. But she'd seen the flash of the gun that took him, and aimed at the man behind it. An ugly, darkskinned thing, crouching in a ditch. Her rifle kicked against her shoulder three times in quick succession. Dead.

She'd seen the chopper that was gutted, felt the concussion of the explosion. Shrapnel killed indiscriminately, those near the crash site were all mowed down, Deadoran and Dengali alike. A shard of metal had come within millimeters of killing her, carving a scratch in her cheek and embedding in the APC.

Already she hated these people. Already they had taken too many loyal soldiers, too many friends.

But the enemy was retreating or fleeing in greater numbers than could be maintained, all on foot. She ordered the vehicles to pursue, gaining on their prey easily on the road and open ground. Their drivers were not above running over the wounded or fallen Dengali. That was when the two leading BMPs on the road were struck. Fire and noise engulfed the nose of each one. It was the front armour struck, but both were still halted. One's weapons were still animate though, and the soldiers that had been following behind were unharmed. Deirza wasn't far behind. She saw ten soldiers moving to flank the anti-tank wielding Dengali, even as the wounded IFV spat 30mm rounds at them.

But Deirza had bigger prey, she'd spotted a man speaking into a radio further down the road. A platoon was coming up behind her, but the stalled hulks of the BMPs were obstructing their path. "Lieutenant D'Zeirk, with me!" she cried, and reentered her APC. Two squads did the same, and the three armoured vehicles swerved off the road to avoid the wrecks, and then back, gaining speed back on the road, while the rest of the platoon rushed forward on foot, checking the ditches for wounded or hiding Dengali. Deirza ordered her men not to fire on the man with the radio, but instead to surround him.

---

5th Light Infantry Battalion
The Countryside

Meiryn Jeivak had been a nobody. Just another urchin on the streets of New Creedtown. His troubles came when he'd roughed up some girl, another streetrat like him, over a crust of bread and an apple. A passing InSec patrolman had seen that. He and his friends had left Meiryn a man, but taken both of his pinkies before setting him loose. For many years he saw their faces at night, the fantasies of revenge keeping him from sleep. He'd joined the Army to learn to kill, to be able to defend himself and take revenge against his enemies. But things had changed, slowly over time as they often do. The 72nd taught him to kill, yes, but they also taught him pride, loyalty, the satisfaction of loyal service. He had the camaraderie of his fellow soldiers, the respect and even admiration of the people. He wasn't just a soldier, he was a legionnaire.

The truck rolled over a pothole, and hard seat bucked beneath him and the others. His ass also hurt. Roads out here were shit.

"We're here," the captain announced as the convoy came to a halt at the bridge, "dismount!" Meiryn undid his harness and stood, the muscles in his legs stretching for the first time in hours. He vaulted over the side of the truck and rolled his shoulders, then looked around. To his surprise, all the trucks had stopped. It didn't take long to figure out why: a column of dust approaching down the road. "Find cover, trucks block the road!" The captain's voice cracked over them. Two trucks parked lengthwise to form a roadblock across the road, while the dismounted infantry found cover, either behind the trucks, in the ditches, or behind whatever vegetation there was that could obstruct a line of sight.

Peering around the front of a truck, Meiryn readied his RPG. The captain gave the SOS, and as soon as one of the approaching trucks was within range, he loosed his rocket, leading the first truck. Huddled somewhere nearby, the RTO contacted the nearby Ka-52, requesting immediate support.

---

Major Askyr dismounted in the village, along with five other trucks. The soldiers immediately began to move through the village, securing alleys and lines of sight while the bulk of them gathered in the center of the village. "I am Major Askyr of the Deadoran Imperial Army! By the authority of the Matriarch Empress, Jennifer Thrall, the Patriarch Hatim Tahmid Ajam is hereby declared an outlaw and terrorist, and a criminal from justice. I would speak to the leader of this village, to negotiate the surrender of all those loyal to Ajam in this village. Assist and you will be unharmed and rewarded. Resistance is futile." She spoke confidently, her voice blaring from a megaphone. She first spoke in Latin, then in English, and then had her translator repeat the message in the most common of Dengali's tongues.

[New Edom]

Tabora Province
Northern Dengali

Captain Aneke's lips worked to give orders to the anti-tank company even as he saw great clouds of dust raised around them; bursts of rifle fire and autocannon fire surrounding them. They were running; Lieutenant Obori's arms flung out as though in surprise,then he fell to his knees then on his face.

He let his radio handset drop; he screamed, "Fall back, fall back," realizing that the flanking squads were already doing that or running; ahead of them he saw wounded men crushed like rotten fruit by powerful vehicle treads. It seemed like Deadoran soldiers in their foreign camouflage, flashes of pale faces were everywhere!

Run, run for the tall grass! Embrace the earth, throw a smoke grenade after you and move at an angle away from that, scrabble on the ground like a child. He was suddenly full of dread and fear--of the Deadorans and their knives.

The company was broken. Here and there a pocket of braver men were more determined to die fighting than to die running, and so they crouched in ditches or behind ruined vehicles and threw grenades, fired bursts. An RPK gunner and his AG lay their machinegun across a flipped over Land Rover's chassis and opened fire down the road in sweeping bursts.

The Central Countryside

The other scouting companies were retreating fast down towards East Lova now. Soldiers in the gun trucks accompanying the soft skinned convoy vehicles anxiously stared up at the skies, listened for helicopters. But at range...they might be detected and struck by rockets before they even saw anything.

Cursing, as the leading truck exploded from an enemy rocket, Captain Judah Hanani had just ordered his Dengali deputy. Captain Amos Kigalo, to go to the northern bridge and destroy it with explosives. "Dismount, dismount!" he cried, and he was echoed by junior officers and sergeants.

"Keep them off us at all cost," he warned Lieutenant Kofe, the next ranking officer, a tough young Dengali, the son of one of Ajam's favourites. Kofe shouted, "Find some cover, find some cover now!"

The hand picked warriors of Ajam were mostly younger men or barely more than boys. Like Edomites, they had trained naked in harsh conditions, learned to toughen their feet, eat vermin if they had to, become pitiless, kill without thinking. Unlike some other Dengali warlords, they had also begun learning discipline from the CP cadre. While many were light infantry who had never faced really faced modern arms, this unit was led and cadre'd largely by people who had been directly trained by or trained in the New Edomite Army. Kofe was one of these; he was ordering his soldiers to lay down machinegun and rifle fire on the enemy, throw grenades when they were in range, keep to cover.

Captain Hanani ran along the bridge at a crouch; he decided to have two vehicles driven across the bridge partly and abandoned there, to cover his activity. The drivers were to abandon them and move away. He picked two boys for this--the boys were often more ready to take ridiculous risks than the men. Getting out his kit of blasting caps and plastique he began to prepare to lay the charges along with his two assistants. He hoped that Captain Kigalo was faring better...

The Village

Three Kavo village elders, wearing a combination of tribal robes, sunglasses, watches and other modern accoutrements approached and made salutes with their hands.

"We are just helpless villagers," the oldest and greyest said insistently. "Worthy Major, we are helpless subjects of the tyrant, General Ajam! O mighty Deadorans, thank you for saving us from the tyrant!"

"Major--General Ajam takes our young men for labour or war, takes our young girls for labour or whores!" lamented the thinnest and tallest, taking off his sunglasses to show the sincerity in his sunken brown eyes.

"General Ajam is our oppressor, but you have freed us!" cried the shortest and roundest of the elders. "Praise the Deadorans! Babouleh babouleh babouleh!"

"Ha!" cried some of the villagers nearby, raising their arms a bit startled, some hesitating.

"Babouleh babouleh babouleh!" he cried, looking at them.

"Ha!" they shouted with more enthusiasm.

He now repeated it, joyfully, the other elders joining in, "Babouleh babouleh babouleh!"

"HA!"

[New Edom]

Josiahstown, Dengali

The National Legislature Building and the Presidential Palace were on a hill overlooking some of the best sights of southern Dengali--the white crescent spread of Oceana Beach, the dome of Fellalah Town Mosque, the rising spire of Saint Luke's Cathedral. Cars and trucks moved here and there; apartments rose over housing areas. A stadium stood on a more broad flat area where there was more available parking and space for vendors. How ironic that till recently the talk from most was the upcoming National Cup.

"In the face of the threats from the Matriarch Empress through her lackey papers, we ask why our President is doing so little. Is he waiting to hear from the Shrailleeni? Will the Shrailleeni stand for justice or for female sisterhood? Why does our President wait? What is he waiting for?"

"I thank the Leader of the Opposition for his thoughtful words," said the measured calm tones of Prime Minister Cassandra Blue. The President could imagine her adjusting her reading glasses, looking like a good humoured professor over them at Dr. Laurent Torobomo, the leader of the Freedom Revival Party. He imagined the government benches, the Christian Democratic Party. The Prime Minister continued. "I wonder if he has considered that the newspapers are not a reliable source of military intelligence, and that the government has a duty to act responsibly. I wonder if he considers the delicacy of unity negotiations which have been undertaken by this government, Mr. Speaker...and that the President has not done nothing. Reconnaissance has been undertaken by our Shrailleeni allies as well as by the National Dengali Air Force, we have been in direct contact with the Shrailleeni Imperial Government in Dressana as well as with Fineberg..." He turned down the radio live broadcast from the legislature and got up from his desk wearily but restlessly.

President Joseph Andrews looked in the mirror. Where had all the grey come from? He looked down at the letter in his hand then.

My dear friend President Andrews. Please rest assured that I will not abandon my allies in their time of trouble. I am as concerned as you are about the exploitation of the vulnerability of the northern provinces of Dengali. I will inform you of the best way to handle this matter from my perspective as soon as I have done meeting with my Defense Council..."

Here were the realities. He had another paper to look at; he had just spoken to the Minister of Defense, retired Major-General Claude Mito. On paper they had 14,000 troops. In reality they had something closer to 8,200. They had reduced it greatly because of the defense provided by the Shrailleeni, in order to fund social programs, relief programs for the north intended to bring about reconciliation, and also in order to modernize a cadre fully. They had worked out a program too where Dengali volunteers would act as a foreign legion for the Edomites, providing an infantry regiment which would then return veterans. Dengalis could also volunteer to serve in the New Edomite Navy and Air Force.

The problem here was pay. His government could ill afford the pay now offered to Edomite soldiers, providing little incentive but patriotism for soldiers who might return. But why would they?

His three bttalions of motorized infantry, with their ancient artillery and ancient supporting armour, could barely hold the border against Ajam and the other dissident warlords. The T-72s they had taken from the Cookish were largely mothballed for the time being due to lack of equipment and ammunition. Apart from the two P-3 Orions, his Air Force had a cessna, 2 Mi-24s and 8 Mi-8s.

"You must come to my defense," he said wearily to Perrin Pahath-Moab's letter.

[Shalum]

Shalumite Marine Base, New Edom

Major-General Jack Harper yawned quietly, using his large hand to cover his mouth out of habit, as his solitary military issued land rover sped down the currently deserted road that lead to the base that the Shalumite marine corp had in New Edom. The windows of the vehicle were rolled down for the moment, allowing wind to rush into the cab of the vehicle, smoke escaping the driver's side of the vehicle all the while as the marine commander puffed away on a cigarillo. He didn't smoke often, in fact, this was the first time he had enjoyed tobacco in a few weeks. There was no special occasion that warranted it in his mind, more of a spur of the moment decision than anything else. What was life without a little enjoyment now and then?

At the entrance to the base, he went through the same procedure that he always did, two heavily marines inspecting his vehicle while a third checked his identification. The Shalumite military, especially the marines, had strict rules about security, so this was rather normal to him. They knew who he was, but they also had their orders, something he couldn't fault them for. When the inspection was done, the marines waved his through, one soldier who manned the gate opening it long enough for his vehicle to pass before lowering it once more.

Jack spent the next couple of minutes navigating the base, his final destination being his office close to the center of the installation. Already the base was alive and active, as some units began to eat their morning chow while other began their normal PT exercises before they picked up again on their never ending regime of combat training. Cadences lifted into the air as the first group of assembled marines began their exercises, and before long Harper found himself humming along quietly with the younger soldiers. Apparently, the corp hadn't changed the lyrics that he had grown to know and love since he had been a soldier on the front lines.

Eventually, Jack pulled up to his office, parking his land rover in it's designated space. Reaching over he picked up his brief case, which he seemed to only use about a third of the time that he actually brought it, and hopped out of his vehicle; making sure that the car was off and properly locked before he headed inside. At the door, a marine greeted him with a salute and a 'sir' while he opened the door for the general, closing it behind him once he had cleared the entrance. Like the other marines on duty, the one by the door had a sidearm on his hip and a XM8 slung across his shoulder.

As Jack entered the office, he was met by no new sights, just the same staff that he normally saw going about their daily affairs. The receptionist was on the phone, and a few higher officers stood to the side with coffee cups in hand chatting about who knew what. They were all in uniform. As he eyed them, Jack spotted the highest ranking (or most important) officers under his command.

The first, dressed in BDUs was Major Jean-Paul Valliancourt, a man with around fourteen years of service under his belt. He was a minor Shalumite noble, the type that no one particularly cared about outside of Shalum, and had been in the military since he could sign up at seventeen. At the moment, he was in charge of the two marine commando units on base, which numbered around fifty operators not counting their support personal. The major was a large man, standing at six-foot-two with a barrel chest and strong muscles. His eyes were green and almost predatory, which seemed to match the almost-grin that he always seemed to wear. As it was, people knew him more for being an all around lady-killer instead of a commander of some of Shalum's best commandos. His exploits were practically legendary it seemed, at least among the men.

Standing beside the major was an older man in his early forties by the name of Ferdinand Schultz. He was a brigadier general who commanded the four dedicated combat regiments of the 103rd, a force that was around 7,000 men if Jack remembered correctly. He was a 'southern farm boy', meaning that he was strongly built and hailed from the southern part of Shalum. He stood at six-foot-three, and resembled a brute in appearance more than he did someone like the well kept major. The most surprising thing about him was his marital status. Apparently a number of years ago, during a vacation to Draconia, he had fallen into a trap of sorts, and before he knew it; had returned with not one wife, but three wives who were all younger than he was. At the moment, said wives lived back in Shalum, raising the brood of six children that he had sired since his marriages. Rumor was that he was considering leaving the marines sooner than later so that he could spend time with his family back home, especially his youngest wife who was apparently heavy with her third child. How the brigadier simply stayed sane, Jack didn't know.

As he moved toward his officer, an officer broke off from the group abruptly, calling his name. "General Harper, a moment sir" the officer said he stopped before Jack. "Sir, the ORBAT that you requested is finsihed sir, here you go" he said as he handed the file to his superior officer.

"Thank you Lieutenant, dismissed" general Harper said as he took the file and tucked it under his arm. The young soldier nodded and saluted, before returning to the group of assembled officers. Jack sighed and trekked into his office, setting his breif case beside his desk as he sat the file down. He plopped down in his office chair and booted up the computer on his desk. "Might as well see what we've got" he muttered to himself as he opened the thick folder.

103rd Marine Division ORBAT
Commander: Major-General Jack Harper

-1st Marine Regiment (2,400 riflemen, mechanized)

-7th Marine Regiment (2,400 riflemen, mechanized)

-9th Marine Regiment (1,600 riflemen, helicopters)

-75th Marine Armored Regiment (800 men, tanks and self-propelled artillery)

Auxiliary/Support Units

-307th Police Regiment
-101st Field Artillery Regiment (M777 and MLRS)
-Logistical Support Regiment
-Motor Pool Regiment
-Aviation Regiment

Attached Special Operations Marine Forces
Commander: Major Jean-Paul Vaillancourt

-Team Zeta (30 Operators)
-SMRU Delta Team (20 Operators)
-Aviation Support Team (26 pilots and 10 UH-51 Iron Eagle Utility Helicopters)

Ground Vehicles
(Vehicles undergoing maintenance included)

35--Gladiator 3 Main Battle Tanks
40--Wolverine All-Terrain Transports (Multiple Variants)
90--M95 Piranha APC (Modified version of a Stryker APC)
50--ML16 Bison (Army GCV)
12--Speerwulf 155mm SPH
6--Heiliger Blitz MRLS.
12--M777 towed howitzers
5-- Entlein CERVs
12--Panther Flakpanzer SPAAG
--Assorted Support and Logistics Vehicles

[Deadora]

Dressanna, Marbidi Province
Southern Dengali

Jacqueline mainly kept her attention focused on Gillya throughout the conversation, though she did turn to the Govern when he was speaking. Her face betrayed nothing of her reactions to the words being spoken, an art she had mastered from a lifetime of being second spear to her younger cousin. As she understood, it was also a skill Shrailleeni noblewomen worked to perfect, much more than their Deadoran counterparts. She found the Queen's apparent reliance on this man worrisome, but it was true that taming a patriarchs was essential to defeating them. The Governor knew enough about behaving around women, wearing the submissive face well. His rough manners were to be expected.

"It is as you say, Deadora's lands are broad, and her armies fearsome. The Matriarch Empress does not lust to take land or rule a conquered people." The Princess replied. "She only desires to help liberate them, bring them into the fold of International Sisterhood. She does not want war, not with Dengali, not with New Edom, not with the Enlightened Empire, nor with any of our neighbors in Acheron. But Ajam, by the Republic's own admission, operates outside the authority of any state. Tabora is anarchist territory in all but name. Furthermore, the Fineberg and Josiastown have both voiced their support for Ajam in the face of any alternative. Our ambassadors found them most uncooperative."

Then it was Erryk who spoke, more to act as a counter to the Governor's involvement. "Honoured Queen, it is the Matriarch Empress's sacred duty to protect the liberty and safety of women in this world. When Ajam attacked my homeland, when we learned of his plot, she had to act. But I have personally heard her speak of how glad she would be to work with the Shrailleeni to rid Dengali of this menace, of the invaluable nature of your experience in Dengali when the time comes to restore stability and peace, and of her commitment to ensure that Dressanna has all the resources it needs to do so after the patriarch has been beaten."

Jacqueline glanced at her brother with veiled affection. He was so loyal, she felt admiration and envy both at once. She turned back to Gillya. "Your support and leadership will be essential if there is to be any hope of a northern Dengali that is safe and stable. Let my cousin help you rid this land of a great evil, and rebuild the civilization it so eagerly vies to destroy."

[New Edom]

Dressanna, Marbidi Province
Southern Dengali

The V-22 Osprey tilted its rotors as, following receiving permission to land, and began its descent.

Dr. Mehitabel Taramundi felt her stomach lurch, and she popped some antacid tablets with some water. She looked down keenly on the developments in Dressana, which impressed her.

She had thought carefully durign the trip to Dressana; she put aside for the moment her frustrations withher own government and focused on what was good. Yes, she didn't like the President, but she had to be focused on the task at hand. Having talked to President Andrews before she left, they had come to agreement about what she would propose.

Major Ezra Malluch wasn't a man she liked personally either; he was, she strongly suspected, an agent of the President directly. Background research revealed that he was a protegee of Dorian Hermengild, General Augrim's adjutant, and Pahath-Moab and Augrim had fought on the same side in both civil wars. He was intelligent, resourceful, erudite, brave if his decorations and service record indicated anything. He had never shown any warmth or friendliness other than exquisite courtesy. She just had an instinct not to trust the man.

Anyway, here they were. Major Malluch had sunglasses on now, he smiled at her and gave her a faint nod.

You're going native, Mehitabel, Levi Dathan had said during their last face to face meeting. Was she?

Fineberg, New Edom

"By now, Ambassador Taramundi has reached Dressana," said Levi Dathan. "But apparently a jet arrived bringing Jacqueline Thrall herself to Dressana. They're pulling out the big guns."

"We know all about that," wheezed Harcourt.

"I know that you know, and I know you probably know that I know that you know," said Levi. The others in the room laughed. Harcourt grinned and tipped his cigarette at Levi in a mocking salute.

"We must not wait on the Shrailleeni," said Perrin decisively. "I would like troops mounted into C-10s and CM-7s, gentlemen, and moved into Nalayan airspace immediately. We have a green light for the move from the Protector. If the Shrailleeni and the Dengali government are able to get the Deas to fall back on their own, then we'll just turn them around in the air."

"Do you mean you will act without the Shrailleeni even if they support the Deadorans?" exclaimed Levi.

"We have a treaty with the Dengali as well, and right now President Andrews begs our assistance. That's enough for me. He doesn't like Ajam--in fact I don't like or trust Ajam--but that's not really the point, is it? The point is we cannot let the Deadorans occupy northern Dengali. It's a test of Jennier Thrall's power." Perrin pointed out.

"Just a thought--just a thought..." said Levi. He chewed his lip a moment, then said, "You know, I saw the look on the ambassador's face. I think that this might mean more than we think. I think that Jennifer Thrall has to prove herself. Has to. Now please hear me out: I think that she has taken one on the chin a few times. She followed our lead with FODE; she followed our lead with the response to Norvenia, she backed off on Magna Lacuna. She's one of the most effective leaders Deadora has ever had, but it's a snake pit out there, and we all know that. What if she actually needs the face this would provide? Could we possibly see that Ajam is expendable and maybe..."

People were staring at him warily, most of them thinking rapidly. It was known that Levi Dathan was a friend of the President; it was known that he along with Harcourt had been one of his backers; it was known that they were discreetly close. That discretion was the troubling thing--was it a game? Was Perrin using him as a way of backing down, was it a challenge to Perrin's authority? What should they do? No one wanted to look at Harcourt or Cain either.

In fact, Cain was thinking about a list he had in his head of officers he suspected of sexual perversion, and was hoping to weigh in on who was appointed to lead an expedition--who would NOT be a pervert.

In fact, Harcourt was thinking of the Monarchist cabal, and when to spring his trap on who, and when, and where. He was also thinking about whether he needed some more oxygen soon; he had to keep hiding how sick he was from the rest of the Interim Government...

"That's a very good point, Levi," said Perrin thoughtfully. "But we'll put those troops in the air anyway, and take some time to think about that. After all, if we do need them, the Deadorans from what our reports have indicated have already crossed the border and are brushing aside Ajam's border patrols. General Benajah, what is available?"

"We can move elements of the 11th Combined Arms Brigade in Haran most quickly. We recommend sending a battalion of the 17th Light Troops, a squadron of the 32nd Hussars, and half the aviation element attached to the 17th. These units are all relatively close to the Nalayan border. As far as the other elements we could send...it will take longer but I would recommend that we prepare to send the 2nd Etrurian Legion. However there is another option. We can also call upon some of our foreign allies. The Shalumite 103rd Marines, their training unit they sent to us--apparently they're willing to go."

Perrin narrowed his eyes. "Willing to go? What does that mean? What does this have to do with them?"

Actually, no one knew. It was a trifle odd, to say the least. The Shalumites seemed to have an odd penchant for getting into trouble in the region. It was not much of a secret that Perrin didn't trust them; they were being watched carefully.

"I think perhaps that the Foreign Ministry ought to talk to them and find out." said Harcourt, his voice rasping, then sipping a glass of water.

"Let's get the elements of the 11th Combined Arms Brigade you mentioned loaded up at Gone and Sterry," said Perrin decisively, "And start preparations for the 2nd Etrurians. Let's do this as we normally do it--let's pretend it's regularly scheduled exercises. And Levi, speak with the Shalumite Ambassador. Explain to him carefully the circumstances, the delicacy of this matter. Warn him. If need be I will speak to the Imperator myself. We must not give the Deadorans reason to suspect that we want an open war against them." He got up, nodded to their bows, and left with the other Ministers, leaving the Chiefs of Staff to their work which they immediately busily began.

Shortly after this meeting, Levi Dathan placed a call to the office of the Ambassador to New Edom from Shalum, asking to arrange a meeting between himself and Prince William on a matter relating to improving communications between the President and the Imperator. It was suggested that Prince Andrew drop by the Ministry at his earliest convenience.

[Ghant]

“Rocking the Boat”
Ghish, Ghant

“Power attracts men like a flame attracts moths. They become enchanted by its aura, and inextricably drawn to it. They become drunk off it, feeding off of it, for it is most nourishing. Yet, what happens when the moth drifts too close to the flame? It burns, for the flame consumes.” – Princess Belandra of Ghant, 1320.

The Emperor of Ghant was tired. So fucking tired. He slouched over in the chair in the nursery, with heavy eyes on his new babies…especially John. Being a dad was cool and all, but so far it had been stressful and exhausting. Sick wife, sick baby, winter upon us… People accused the third baby of being an ill omen that needed to be given the gift of death, but Nathan and Sophia would not even entertain such notions.

He had to take a break. He had been at Sophia’s side for almost a week in the hospital, and it was taking a toll on him. His eyes were sunken in, his skin was pale, he felt feverish…he had to get out. What would be the harm if he went out for a bit while she was sleeping? She didn’t need him then, did she? And the babies would be fine if they were sleeping too…would they not?

There was only one place to go. The Palace. So it came to pass that while Sophia was sleeping, and the babies nice and cozy, Nathan went out, wearing his comfortable black fur lined tunic and slacks, with fuzzy bear paw shoes. It was dark, and snow was falling upon the ground, a contrast between the blackness of the night and the whiteness of the falling snow, illuminated by the street lights.

Nathan wasn’t going to drive. Rather, he was going to walk, down those old familiar streets of Ghish. The lights flickered as the often did, and there was the sound of cars in the distance, reducing the snow beneath to slush. He knew these streets all to well. Nathan wasn’t a man that was great in noble character, nor was out of touch with the streets. There's a shady place, at the end of the working day. Where young lovers go, and this hot little trio plays.

Sure, somebody could hurt him, kill him even. But should he worry about that? Things were good. He was married to the woman he had always loved, he had children now, including an heir. Things were going well, and all was well. But how long will that last? When you are up, the only way to go is down.

Needless to say Nathan had some guards in tow…somewhere. There was always at least one pair of eyes on him at all times. Except when I am in bed or when I am in the bathroom. He didn’t like having them right up on him, as the thought of having people meant to protect him up close to him made him feel like a snob. Nathan often wished he was just a regular guy, with a normal life and a job. But that could never be. Plus, he wasn’t living for himself anymore. He had to be a father, an example for his children. He wanted his sons to be better, more capable men then he was. And he wanted his daughter to know what kind of man was worth her attentions and affections.

Nathan shook his head as he walked, coming up on the Imperial Palace. As he often did, he went around back, to the gardens. Sophia worked hard in there when the weather was conducive for it, planting and nurturing flowers and such…especially white roses. It often seemed like there was many white roses in Ghish as there were in Dakar, on account of Sophia.

At the garden gate, Nathan signaled to the guard that was posted, letting him know that the Emperor of Ghant was in the proverbial house. The gate opened, and Nathan walked through. He crunched through the snow that lined the path, and into the Palace he went. In the hallway by the door to the outside, he shook his feet to get the snow off. Sophia often lamented about the tracking of snow around the Palace, wanting to reduce the workload of the servants. Nathan wanted to make their lives easier as well.

Bobo, Nathan’s majordomo and friend, was upon him fairly fast. He was an older man, with short black hair and a hearty build. “Nathan, good evening! How is your family?”

Nathan laughed. “Damn, Bobo, how did you know I was coming? I didn’t tell anybody in advance,” he explained as he started walking down the hall. “Doing alright, all things considered. Everybody is still alive, so that’s good.”

“Indeed…I saw you coming through a window.” Bobo answered. “I should have you know there is a Privy Council meeting in session, led by Edward.”

“Hmm…Uncle Edward eh? Let’s go see, shall we?” Nathan answered. “Take me there.”

“...Alright. Right this way.” Bobo answered cautiously, leading the way, as Nathan followed.

Malibar probably doesn’t want me in on the Privy Council meeting…tough shit. Nathan thought. His father-in-law was in Ghish to see Sophia and his grandchildren. He knew that Malibar had a new woman…Margarethe of Vorindun. Mother of Queen Helga of Garza, the Queen of Vorindium, and supposedly the youngest, cross eyed one was in Gauekoizarra ingratiating herself to King Inigo. I see what you are up to, pops.

Bobo stopped before the golden double doors that led to the Privy Council room. The doors were emblazoned with eagles, all ornate and sparkling. Rather then announce himself or knock, Nathan pushed the doors open, listening to them creak ever so slightly as he did so.

The room was well lit, large and rectangular with a low ceiling and a large round table upon a wooden floor. There were end tables with lamps upon them in the corners of the room, as well as a few bookshelves on each wall that contained various files and records within them. The fireplace was large and burning bright, with fat logs crackling on top of robust flames that licked them from the embers below. The gilded walls and ceiling flickered in gold light from the fire and the lamps, the warm bath of light enhancing the aura of the room’s majestic feel. The chandelier that hung above the table was ornate crystal, and the light from the room danced upon it. Then of course were the people sitting at the round table, with papers and pitchers of water and warm tea strewn about.

Sure enough, at the table sat some of the big power players in Ghant. Seated was his uncle, Prince Edward of Ghant, Lord High Chamberlain and Imperial Adjunct Regent of Ghant, who was ruling by proxy until Nathan and Sophia’s leave on account of the birth had lapsed. Seated next to him was Princess Alyssa Holland of Shalum, the second child and eldest daughter of the late Imperator Karl Holland and Imperatrix Allora, herself a scion of the Imperial House of Ghant. Wherever Edward was, Alyssa was seldom far away, and for good reason. Then there was Lord Arlan Belmore, the Vice-Lord Paramount of the Jauneketxea, and father of Allaria Belmore, who was engaged to High Prince Matthew of Shalum. Then there was Ostegi Sastagai, Lord High Castellan and cousin of Malibar. Next was Lord Gorka Gauzua, Lord High Constable. Next to him was Lord Inigo Araneta, Lord High Chancellor. Then there was Lord Mathias Mutu, Lord High Treasurer and Sophia’s uncle. Then there was Malibar, Lord Paramount of the Council, Lord Paramount of the Jauneketxea, King of Dakmoor, and Warden of the East.

When Nathan entered the room, the room grew quiet, and all eyes were upon him. Edward was the first to address him after the pause. “Welcome, nephew. How fares the wife and babes?”

Nathan smiled. “Quite well, uncle, thank you. Everybody is doing alright…”

Malibar cut him off. “…How long has it been since you have attended a Privy Council Meeting, son-in-law? Besides, your wife and children are in need of you…that is where you should be right now.” Malibar said firmly.

Should have known you were going to cut me off. Nathan shrugged to the group. "It's not difficult to surmise my father-in-law’s feelings towards my being here; and my own proclivities are, uh, well-known and often-lamented facts of Ghantish lore. But I should add that I needed a break…I needed to get out for a bit. And fortunately enough, there is this Privy Council here that I might sit upon. Soon as its done, I will take my inglorious and shabby self back to the hospital, rest assured.” Nathan explained as he walked up to the table and took a seat. “…Where is Nymun?”

Malibar answered hastily. “He is seeing to some administrative duties that necessitate his attention. We have everything covered.”

Oh, I am sure you do.“…So it would seem. Alas, here I am, as is my duty. So, without further adieu, let’s continue, shall we?” Nathan asked.

The room was still quiet, and all eyes still on the Emperor. Nathan sighed. “Go on now…as you were, my lords and lady. No need to stop because of me.”

Mathias Mutu spoke up then, towards Malibar. “There is the issue of Zara that remains.”

Nathan responded quickly. “Mathias, with all due respect. Wouldn’t it be more…kosher to address the agenda to me since I am here, and not to my father-in-law? The world might have forgotten that I am the Emperor, but I haven’t.” Nathan laughed.

“Why yes, certainly.” Mathias addressed Nathan then. “Zara.”

Nathan waved his hand. “Zara is irrelevant. Stuck up north in winter…she won’t be doing anything until at least come the spring. What else is there?”

Lord Sastagai cracked his knuckles. “Crown Prince Errando of Odolargia is in Nalaya still, acting as emissary. Things have been going well enough.”

“By well enough, you mean they have not eaten him yet.” Nathan laughed. “That’s good…hopefully he can do something useful while he is there. And should he fail, well hey, that’s why Kame has four sons. Found himself a nice Aljiba girl with wide hips to pop out some children. Heirs and spares, after all. So need to worry about our friend too much.” Nathan turned to Lord Inigo Araneta. “Say, didn’t you marry some savage maneater?”

Lord Araneta turned red as a beet. “…I married a Lady of the House Ruran…”

“My point exactly. What’s next?” Nathan asked, laughing under his breath, while Malibar gave him that cold look of his.

Edward rubbed his hands together. “There is the issue of Azurlavai.”

“Oh right, Azurlavai. What a clusterfuck that’s turned out to be. Isn’t the Imperium down and around there now, getting all worked up over some god forsaken island that doesn’t even belong to them?”

“Altinum, nephew.” Edward answered. “And there have been terrorist attacks within the Imperium and in Altinum, if my knowledge serves me correctly. The Imperium is justified in its use of force against the Jotnar elements in Azurlavai. Meanwhile, my brother-in-law is doing what he can to protect Shalum and deliver the region once again into the hands of justice.”

Nathan yawned. “Bullshit. My father taught me when I was a boy to question everything, and that nothing is as simple as it seems. That, and ever the conspiracy theorist that I am, I have to question the nature of these ‘terrorist attacks’ and consider the possibility that they are false flags. After all, wasn’t that what the Mad Emperor did? Make up some garbage ass story about somebody in order to provide a cassis belli to do something about it?”

Edward shook his head. “…The Revenant…”

“Isn’t anywhere near as bad as the Imperium. If anything, Uncle, we should be supporting the Revenant against the Imperium. I don’t want those maggots to spread their filth around the world in the name of their so called justice. The fact that we are allied with a country that in turn is allied with them makes me sick to my stomach, frankly. And don’t even get me started on that CPO vote…I heard about that. All those nations getting in line to stroke the Imperium’s balls ought to be ashamed. At least Nymun had the courage to stand up to the Boy General and his lickspittle allies.”

Lord Sastagai frowned. “With all due respect, Nathan, you swore a blood oath to New Edom, to pledge to honor the terms of the treaty. Lately the Edomites might feel as though Ghant is not taking their alliance seriously. Perhaps they are asking the question…why did we become allies again?”

“I know I did, my lord. I also know how to read. I remember what the print said. It said that my sister-in-law and myself have discoursed and agreed with their especial grace, wisdom and knowledge upon certain terms to bind our nations in such a manner. The first being mutual defense. The second being sharing intelligence. The third being mutual non-aggression. The fourth being that neither shall assist any party or faction that means to pursue aggressive action.” Nathan tapped his fingers on the table. “Nowhere in the treaty that I signed in my own blood was there any mention that I needed to hold Perrin’s nuts for him. If he expects me to be his bitch, he will be sorely disappointed. Hopefully the CPO vote made that clear, as does our position towards the Imperium. Now, what’s next?”

Gorka Gauzua nibbled on his bottom lip. “There is the situation in Deadora. The whole terrorist attack.”

Nathan laughed. “Deadora, eh? I remember what Nathan I’s journal said about them.” Nathan thought for a moment before speaking. “He said that ‘it is a most unnatural thing for women to hold dominion over men. Therefore, I applaud my brother-in-law's efforts to restore the natural order of things in such a godforsaken province as Deadora."

Edward nodded his head. “Indeed. Aelius Victor as Roman Emperor brutally crushed the rebelling Deadorans and was hostile towards Ceti…the homeland of his mother, ironically as it were. He just couldn't hold Deadora because Ceti was aiding them and because his governors were inhumanly brutal.”

Nathan shrugged. “Emperor Aelius Victor very much reflected his Ghantish upbringing. After all, he was a complex individual, and his desire for peace and order was exemplified by his harshness in dealing with the Deadorans, who even then seemed like a despicable lot. So what exactly is going on with them at this particular time?”

Arlan answered. “There has been trouble there, with terrorist attacks. Their regime is in danger, it would seem, with enemies on all sides of them. It was only a matter of time before that manifested itself more profoundly. I suspect that various factions are looking to take advantage of that situation by harassing Deadora.” Arlan postulated.

“Another terrorist attack, eh? Well, tell me about it…I am curious to find out more.” Nathan responded, scratching his head.

Lord Gauzua cleared his throat, and he held out a paper in his hands. “This was derived from a recent article of the Tower, as it happens.” Lord Gauzua coughed.

“The town of Jeizzen is a small town north of the Dengali border. It is also home to Deadora's largest solar power station, which was able to be heavily modernized thanks to increased revenue from the FODE economic bloc, to which Deadora is a founding member. Residents take great pride in the steps their community has taken in reducing their consumption of fossil fuel based energy, benefiting Deadora and the entire world. To the south is Dengali. A small nation on the Sabri Sea is nominally a Shrailleeni protectorate, but good governance only reigns along coastal territories. The interior remains clutched by the patriarchal chaos of anarchy. Warlords and gangs wage petty wars against each other, raping and devastating land and innocents both. They have turned their eyes on Deadora in the past, but such success has eluded them for decades. Even so, Internal Security was able to intervene before all the explosives were detonated. Were it not for the swift and courageous action of our police, the entire plant would have been leveled. InSec Matriarch Primus, Orletta D'Beihd confirmed that one prisoner was taken alive, and confessed the terrorist plot once in custody.” Lord Gauzua took a deep breath and drank some water.

Nathan stroked his chin. “Alright…okay. Is there other news concerning Deadora?”

“…There is. In fact, several months ago there was an incident of note, also reported in the Tower. It was concerning Queen Asha D'Bhati of Legirahn, who was executed for treason, by beheading.”

“Wonderful. What do you guys know about that?” Nathan asked, still stroking his chin, feeling the wispy blonde whiskers.

Lord Belmore answered. “ She was queen for fifteen years. From what is known, her reign was good. There was low taxes, a lenient stance on crime, and good feelings abound. She was popular enough and well liked.”

Edward shrugged. “A powerful queen looked to capitalize on her popularity. She overreached, and she fell. This sort of thing has happened all throughout history.” Edward seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Malibar, who even now was brooding over that…no doubt the Burning of the Roses was on his mind, and woe be to the man that made reminder of that foul event.

“…Alright…and why would she commit treason, then…seems a bit odd to rock the boat like that?” Nathan asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Lord Gauzua coughed. “Well, there were Anarcho-Communist terrorists in Gloria Regis. From what can be gathered, the queen had contacted the Anarchist leaders, promising weapons and equipment in return for their support of a coup against the Empress. Gloria Regis was delivered to justice before she could make good on her offer, and her guilt was revealed soon after. Then she was put to death right quick.”

“Fascinating.” Nathan responded sagely as he scratched the hair growing on his neck. “Now why would a popular and well governing queen take such a bold risk? Surely she had to know that her plot was ever the dangerous one. So much risk.”

“But so much reward.” Edward answered. “The answer is simple. The queen was competent and well liked, and Deadora sliding into irrelevancy as it became surrounded by nations that it was non too friendly with. The Empress was reaching her nadir, and a powerful magnate looked to take advantage of that.”

“…Or the queen was a scapegoat for some sort of game initiated by the Empress…along with this Dengali terrorist attack. Look at that confession that got the queen’s head chopped off. That’s rich…a confession by a prisoner after being taken into custody. Probably twisted her tits long enough and then she eventually coughed up a confession. Confessions made under duress mean nothing. Is the world so stupid that it can’t see a false flag attack? For fuck sake, does the Imperium and Deadora both take the world for fools?” Nathan asked, with laugh.

Arlan Belmore inclined his head. “With all due respect, these claims of false flag attacks seem quite outlandish, and naturally, the burden of proof lies upon those who would question the official story. Is there really any way of knowing for sure? I mean, even in the event that you might be right, it doesn’t change the fact that the truth can be crafted in such a way so that history knows events that are in fact false…but nobody knows.”

Nathan nodded. “Alright…so was there any mention of what Deadora said they were going to do in response specifically to this event?” They are probably going to make a move.

Edward responded. “Yes, there was. Empress Jennifer had the following to say…‘these acts of terror cannot go unpunished, or they will try again. Savages want to destroy the peace and livelihoods of innocent Deadorans; this I will not allow. The situation south of the border is intolerable, and if the government of Dengali cannot eradicate this menace, than Deadora will have no choice but to intervene.'"

“Ah, so now the game becomes clear.” Nathan answered. “Such marvelous tactics. Now Deadora has an excuse to commit an act of imperialism against another sovereign state. This is something I don’t think we should tolerate.”

Malibar pursed his lips. “…And what do you suggest we do about it, Nathan?”

“…Hmm…well, naturally it wouldn’t be the prudent course to act without first learning what’s going on. Knowledge is power, and people are motivated by evidence. Having said that, I doubt New Edom is closely watching this situation. They have intel, they have ideas, they have plans. I want to know what they are. This was one such term of the treaty, after all…the sharing of intel. So, as soon as we are done here, I am going to get a hold of Prince Amenmar and have him do what he can.”

“That’s reasonable.” Edward replied.

“…I also plan on having Lady Anara Lianu probe around in Bryn Tegna. I am going to want her to talk to Baela D'Bhati about her mother’s treason and execution as well. Because I firmly believe that if the world becomes aware that Jennifer Thrall has been conducting wanton false flags, then not only would that damage her credibility, but it would also provide for the intervention necessary to limit such danger.”

“…Wouldn’t you be worried for Anara Lianu in that case? After all, if Deadora is as treacherous as you say it is, and if Jennifer would be willing to put people to death to advance her goals, wouldn’t it be reasonable to assume that Lady Anara would be in danger if she goes digging in the dirt?” Arlan asked.

“…I am counting on Jennifer not being that stupid. Lady Anara is a highborn and the scion of a great house. Any hostile action taken against her will be met by a swift response. Right now Ghant is not a hostile enemy. We are merely doing as we have always done. Try to keep the peace, maintain balance, and promote the truth. Hence why I also want to talk to the Deadoran Ambassador Fyrreir D'Yhas, because at least it is owed to the Deadorans to talk to them and hear them out, despite my suspicions about their actions, which to this point seem quite feigned in the interest of expanding their power and influence at the expense of more…honorable nations. Not that Dengali is anything impressive, but there is a precedent here that I would hope to avoid.”

Mathias Mutu chimed in. “Dengali is nominally a Shrailleeni protectorate, as it happens. I do wonder what the Shrai know, and what they have planned.”

Nathan grinned. “Good point, uncle-in-law. No doubt the Shrai are worth speaking with as well. I will make it a point to communicate with Princess Chellaya Resyanna fe Shrailleen on the matter. Now, as I understand it, Dengali is not only a Shrailleeni Protectorate, but also that it has ties to New Edom, if my knowledge serves me correctly.”

Malibar nodded curtly. “That is correct.”

“Good. With that in mind, I will also reach out to the President of Dengali…Joseph Andrews, I believe his name is?”

“Yes nephew, that is correct.” Edward added.

“Alright, cool beans.” Nathan cracked his knuckles. “Was there anything else to talk about?”

“…There is Nekulturnya…” Arlan added.

Nathan waved a hand. “Meh. I suspect you have a plan, Edward…I trust you know how to make good on it. I will let you fine folks deal with that. Now, I am going to send out these messages and then go back to the hospital to be with Sophia and the babes.” Nathan pushed himself up from the chair and stretched. “Uncle Edward, you have the bridge. I thank you all for your time, and please, have a wonderful evening.” Nathan smiled, turned around and walked away. He couldn't help but get the feeling that Malibar's eyes were on him, blue eyes burning as they did with intensity. Nathan shrugged at the thought, humming a folk song as he shut the door behind him.

Bobo walked with him down the hall and nodded his head. “…That was surprising.”

“Was it now, my friend? The fact that I went to a Privy Council meeting and didn’t sit around with my thumb up my ass?” Nathan laughed.

“…Well, yes, in essence.” Bobo answered. “I could tell that they all thought that most queer. Usually, Malibar runs those.”

“…So I have assumed. He seems to forget himself.” Nathan laughed.

“…Do you consider it a prudent course to undermine him?” Bobo asked.

Nathan gave him a mischievous look. “He thinks because he is the Lord Paramount of Ghant, and the father of the Empress that means he rules the roost, and that he can just squat and take a shit however he pleases. What about me, Bobo? How do you think it looks to the world? What do you think they say? That I do not rule, and that my wife’s father and his cronies wield the power in Ghant? Truly, I am not concerned with power. It corrupts, and I would prefer to remain as I am with as little of it as possible. But still, balance is key. Is there balance in the upper echelons of Ghant? I often wonder, the way the Dakmarans are spreading their wings and flexing their muscles. Is it not my responsibility to maintain Gauzenordena?”

Bobo shrugged. “You would know better than I, but perhaps now is not the best time to contemplate such deep things. What you need is to focus on the task at hand, and then get some rest, my friend. The rest will sort themselves out in time, and all things that should be will be. Such is Patu.”

“Indeed…such is Patu,” Nathan responded as they walked down the halls of the Palace, with its ornate black, white and gold patterned tiles. So many paintings, busts and ornaments on countless tables all blurred together in the Emperor’s line of vision, as he stared down the hall at the door of his office.

“Was there anything else you require of me, Nathan?” Bobo asked, politely.

“No, my friend. You have been most helpful. I will see myself out. Enjoy your evening.” Nathan opened the door and shut it behind him, softly. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost feeling nervous, as the anxiety tickled him and left him feeling a very soft feeling of unease. He felt a certain weight, a sense of responsibility. Nathan merely shook his head and went on about his business.

His office was a cluttered mess of books, piled up on the tables and the desk. The Emperor was a man who hungered for knowledge, to learn all that there was to learn of history, and wanting very much to uncover the secrets of the universe. He suspected that he never would, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try.

He felt motivated…as strange it was, to do something besides dwell on the lore of the world. He wondered what kind of world his children would inherit. What kind of world would Sara, Nathan and John know? Would it be a world of peace, of balance? Would justice rule the day? Truth even? Or was Nathan, and Ghant as a whole, staring into oblivion? The slow, grating sensation of a creeping death, like some infernal mold.

What needed to be done was action. Ghant had to move…not in several different directions, but in one. Who could move such a complicated beast in one direction? It had to fall on the shoulders of the Emperor. His children depended upon it. So it was that the Emperor sat down at his desk, wiped up the dust, cleared away the books, and produced his laptop. With resolve, he plugged it in, turned it on, and got to work.

---

To: Prince Amenmar Ugulin, New Edomite Ambassador to Ghant
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Deadora
Encryption: Delivered to the Ambassador Prince in a sealed envelope by the hand of an Imperial messenger

Most noble and honorable Ambassador Prince,

Recently I have been made aware of events in the Empire of Deadora that I find most troubling. These events consist of the terrorist attack at the Jeizzen solar power station, the incident at Magna Lacuna, and the execution of Queen Asha D'Bhati of Legirahn for treason.

My natural inclination is that these events could potentially indicate a sinister plot being hatched in Deadora, and agenda most foul, that could put not only Dengali at risk, but also New Edom. It is for these reasons that I wish to invoke a certain clause in the Treaty of Fineberg, namely that our nations are to share intelligence.

Simply put, I want to know what New Edom knows about the situation unfolding to their east. And if New Edom has ideas on how to proceed, and plans that they might have to address the situation, then I want to know them, so that Ghant can act accordingly.

I ask this of you not only as Ambassador, but also as a friend. The Empress is fond of you and speaks highly of you to me, and so for that I trust you to be ever vigilant. And remember that you are always welcome in the Palace, and that if there is anything you need, you need only ask.

Thank you and with great sincerity,

-Nathan

---

To: Lady Anara Lianu, Ghantish Ambassador to Deadora
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Deadora
Encryption: Delivered by mail in sealed diplomatic envelope

My dear Lady and Ambassador,

Recently I have been made aware of events in the Empire of Deadora that I find most troubling. These events consist of the terrorist attack at the Jeizzen solar power station, the incident at Magna Lacuna, and the execution of Queen Asha D'Bhati of Legirahn for treason.

At present, I find these series of events most troubling, and in light of Empress Jennifer’s comments in a recent article of the Tower, I suspect that Dengali is at risk of Deadoran aggression. I wish to learn more about these tidings…and I want to learn more about the situation at its source. More specifically, there are two things I want you to do.

I want you to request an audience with Empress Jennifer Thrall, firstly. I want you to probe her, pick her brain, and gather her thoughts. I want to know what she is about, what she plans on doing and I want to better get an assessment of her intentions. Secondly, I want you to request an audience with Queen Baela D'Bhati of Legirahn. I want to know more about her mother, her treason, and get a better grasp on what exactly happened there, and how it plays into the unfolding situation in Dengali, if it does at all.

Good luck and Godspeed, my lady, and I look forward to learning what you might discover, as much and more might hinge upon what you could learn.

-Nathan

---

To: Fyrreir D'Yhas, Deadoran Ambassador to Ghant
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Recent Events
Encryption: Delivered to the Ambassador in a sealed envelope by the hand of an Imperial messenger

Dear Ambassador,

Recently I have been made aware of events in the Empire of Deadora that I find most troubling. These events consist of the terrorist attack at the Jeizzen solar power station, the incident at Magna Lacuna, and the execution of Queen Asha D'Bhati of Legirahn for treason.

Naturally, I value the relationship between Ghant and Deadora and the trade that flows between our two Empires. Having said that, I wish to better familiarize myself with the threats that are posed to your nation, so perhaps that our nation might be in a better position to assess its options, in the name of peace and prosperity.

So perhaps you would be willing to come to the Palace for dinner when you find it convenient, and there we can discuss things in greater detail and in person. If you could indulge me in this, I would be much obliged.

-Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant

---

To: Princess Chellaya Resyanna fe Shrailleen, Shrailleeni Ambassador to Ghant
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Dengali
Encryption: Delivered to the Ambassador Princess in a sealed envelope by the hand of an Imperial messenger

Dear Ambassador Princess,

I hope this message finds you, your husband and son in good health and in high spirits. Regrettably it is upon more ill tidings that I send this communiqué.

Recently I have been made aware of an event involving Dengali that I find most troubling. Namely, that of the terrorist attack at the Jeizzen solar power station on the border with Deadora.

As you might be aware, the incident in Jeizzen precipitated the following response from Empress Jennifer of Deadora, which was released in a recent article of the Tower.

“These acts of terror cannot go unpunished, or they will try again. Savages want to destroy the peace and livelihoods of innocent Deadorans; this I will not allow. The situation south of the border is intolerable, and if the government of Dengali cannot eradicate this menace, than Deadora will have no choice but to intervene.”

Naturally, this statement is of great cause of concern. I have come to understand that Dengali is nominally a Shrailleeni protectorate. With that being the case, I want to discuss with you what your government plans on doing to address the issue at hand. The invitation to dinner at the Palace is extended to you.

Ghant and the Shrailleeni Empire share the common cause of the promotion of peace, prosperity and in the emphasis on preserving life and protecting the innocent. It is for this reason that Ghant stood by your government on the CPO vote regarding the Imperium, and why we are now wanting to discuss the situation in Dengali.

Sincerely,

-Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant

---

To: President Joseph Andrews of Dengali
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Recent Events
Encryption: Delivered by mail in sealed diplomatic envelope

Dear Mr. President,

Recently I have been made aware of an event involving Dengali that I find most troubling. Namely, that of the terrorist attack at the Jeizzen solar power station on the border with Deadora.

As you might be aware, the incident in Jeizzen precipitated the following response from Empress Jennifer of Deadora, which was released in a recent article of the Tower.

“These acts of terror cannot go unpunished, or they will try again. Savages want to destroy the peace and livelihoods of innocent Deadorans; this I will not allow. The situation south of the border is intolerable, and if the government of Dengali cannot eradicate this menace, than Deadora will have no choice but to intervene.”

Seeing as how Dengali is closely associated with New Edom, and how Ghant and New Edom are allies of the highest and most profound order, I feel as though I would be remiss should I not reach out to your government at this time as concerns the situation at present. What I want to know is how your government is going to deal with this situation, what your plans are as concerns the strong language coming from Bryn Tegna, and lastly, what Ghant can do to assist you in this time of trouble.

Ghant’s ancient and historic commitment to peace and prosperity in the world makes us feel very concerned for Dengali at this time.

Sincerely,

-Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant

Messages typed and sent, Nathan closed his laptop and took a deep breath, before pushing himself back up to his feet and walking away, back out of the cluttered and messy office. He didn’t like it when people touched and rearranged his things, so he made sure that the office was left alone. Some of those books might have been in the same place for seven years…Nathan had a habit of picking one up, reading it, setting it down and not picking it back up for prolonged periods of time. Yet, he could always remember where he left off, what the content was leading up to it, and all the other assorted nuggets of information contained within each and every one.

Back out in the hallways of the vast palace, there was quiet. Contrary to popular belief, silence could be loud. There was no louder silence then that which could be found within the Imperial Palace of Ghish. Every long hallway, every room both big and small, every corner turned, he half expected to be surprised by something…someone. The ghosts of past Emperors and Empresses, Princes and Princesses, chasing after each other, laughing and playing.

He thought of his father, John. He tried to imagine John, Albert, Stephen, Richard, Mathias and Caroline running amok and reeking havoc while their mother Grace went after them and beseeched them to behave themselves. But those days were gone, and the Palace a hollow shell that it once was. John and Albert were both ghosts now…different kinds of ghosts.

What was Nathan? Was he a ghost? He had to wonder as he approached the exit, if he had ever truly lived. Could he afford to content himself in the company of Sophia, and to let her do the bulk of ruling? Would that be fair to her…or to their children? How were things going to change…what was going to be different? So many questions…so few answers.

Nathan was outside again, under the blanket of darkness, and snow all around him once more, falling upon his eyes and nose. The snow fell lightly, a slow descent from the sky to paint the black world white. It was a comforting feeling, to experience the gentle sensation of it upon his skin, which yet tingled from the winter chill, the cold caress of frozen sea air upon the hairs of his neck and arms.

So it was that he walked, methodically and with purpose, back down the street and along the sidewalks under the flickering street lights and amidst the sound of distant cars and the light sounds of music emanating from some unseen social establishment, with likewise unseen guards in tow. The smells of hot food made his stomach tingle at the thought of eating, but salivating would do him no good. If he was going to eat, he would do it at the hospital, with Sophia. Not without. Never without.

After several minutes of being lost within his own mind, reflecting upon the various ruminations of being the Emperor of Ghant, he found himself once again at the hospital. He shook his feet and wiped his bear paws off on the mat, and he went back to the maternity ward, to where Sophia could be found.

She was sleeping soundly upon the bed of her room, a content smile upon her face as her body inhaled and exhaled softly. Nathan sat down in the seat next to her bed, and leaned back, himself breathing softly as if to mimic her.

Sophia shifted in her bed, and almost instinctively she reached out to her left, as if to reach for him. He was just out of reach, however, and so Nathan took her smooth, fair hand in his and kissed it gently. Then, without letting it go, he slumped over in his seat, and let sleep take him over.

At that moment, falling asleep with Sophia's hand in his, he felt content. Better than he felt when he was rocking the boat.

[New Edom]

Ghish, Ghant

Just looking out the window of the embassy made Prince Amenmar feel cold. The wind gusting snow around streetcorners, frost against the glass, it was all so inhospitable. Why had people ever even settled this place? He shivered, drew the drapes and turned back to his writing table where Barsina was sitting on the back of his chair. The little black and white long furred Goblin Monkey chattered at him softly. Barsina didn't like the cold either, but he had made sure that when they had to go out she had a little sweater, skirt, and mittens. She reached with gentle dexterity for an almond and expertly shelled it with her sharp little teeth and nails.

"We are a long way from home, Barsina," he said, leaning back in the chair, idly stroking the fur on her back. "A long way from home." However his duty clearly lay here. The demographics and genealogies were at least fascinating.

Of all the things, he thought, looking at the Emperor's letter. Dengali? Really? The Emperor was interested in the events in Dengali? Not in expanding trade, not in northern security agreements, not in Azurlavai, but Dengali? How the Emperor's mind worked was beyond him. How politics worked here was also confusing. Why had this not been brought up by his council?

His adoration for Sophia did not blind him to necessities or realities. He knew what to do; he was an old hand at this sort of thing.

To: His Imperial Majesty, Nathan IV
From: Prince Amenmar Ugulin
Subject: Dengali
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Your Majesty,

I cannot express in words how touched I am to hear you call me friend. In that regard I hope I might be able to call on you and express my concern about little Prince John, and pay my respects to the Empress.

As touching the matter you wrote to me regarding, I think it is important that before I obtain this information--which I am not immediatley privy to but know mostly generalities about--that I ask Your Majesty why it is of such concern?

I hope you realize that as Ambassador to Ghant I am not privy all the time to Defense Council briefings except to be informed about general security in the area of my portfolio. So I must make a special request to my government to obtain the information you are interested in.

I have the honour to be
Prince Amenmar Ugulin, Ambassador

[Shalum]

Fineberg, New Edom

Over the last few days, the embassy had grown rather quiet as the staff worked diligently to tackle whatever problems that they found themselves presented with, the water cooler gossip all but outlawed by the security guards present at the Shalumite embassy. Around the clock, the large TV in the embassy's reception area played news from the staff's homeland, the majority of the news stories about the invasion of Thracia which had become official in recent days. Up until this point, public support of the Shalumite intervention in Azurlavai had been slowly waning, due to the number of casualties bringing little in the way of results. But now with the invasion happening, and with Gallagher (an independent Azzie state that the Shalumite military and public genuinely feared) stepping up their aggressiveness, public support of the whole matter was beginning to turn up again. At least according to the news, anyway.

For the Shalumite ambassador, things were slowing getting better, in small increments. His ex-wife's betrayal had been a blow to what ego he had and his mental state, which had been under a lot of stress since he had found out. Knowing that she was being properly punished had made him feel better, though he hadn't learned the specifies of what may have been happening to her. His mood had been slowly improving since that knowledge had been gained, and he had resumed his normal duties, though he often let his staff handle the work they had been trained to do.

With more time to himself, he had began to exercise more frequently, hitting both the embassy gym and going to the local athletics club to run. He had never done well sitting still for too long, and his body was a testament of that, as he was slowly beginning to bulk up, his lanky form slowing getting some thicker mass to it. He had also been spending time at the marine base when he could, training with the marines there in hand to hand and weapons. He would never be a special operations warrior like Matthew, but keeping his skills somewhat sharp was something he sought to do when he could. During these times, he found it rather easy to think about other things besides the woman who he had been stupid enough to marry.

This particular day, a rather tired William trekked to the embassy, his legs burning from exertion and a good amount of sweat on his brow; much of which he had wiped off with his shirt, though it continued to pour out in an attempt to keep him cool. He had forgotten how hot it could get in New Edom. Today he had chosen to run five miles, the same as Matthew did every morning when he could. He had quickly learned that doing five miles was a lot harder than it sounded. The first three had gone well enough, he had done three in the morning more times than he could count, but normally stopped there. The fourth had burned like hell, and he swore the fifth mile was going to kill him; but he had managed to power through.

He entered through a side entrance which the staff commonly used, two of the STG operators who acted as security waving him through without checking his ID or if he had a weapon on him. They knew who he was even at a distance. He saluted them as he cleared the gate, a gesture which they returned before returning back to their parade rest. Both of the agents wore uniforms of the 103rd Marine Division in an attempt to fit in. They both had forty-five caliber pistols on their hips, along with the gear that one may have expected to find on a peace officer, allowing them to be able to choose between non-lethal and lethal take down depending on what the situation required. It was easily accepted that killing someone, especially on at an embassy, wasn't OK to do, but the head of security wanted the option to be on the table if violence broke out.

As he entered the embassy, he sighed as the cool air rushed around him, feeling particularly chilled a few moments later as his sweat and cold air met on his skin, which had become a darker shade of olive since he had arrived in New Edom. He made for the private area of the embassy where he lived, a space that suited his 'princely' needs rather well. After the Shalumite government had taken official control of it, they had moved people in to renovate it to the standards of the ambassador who was supposed to be staying and working there, designing the living areas for maximum comfort. He quickly hopped into the shower, and returned to the area of the embassy that his office among other things was located in dressed in a suit and Hostillian silk tie.

As he approached his office, his secretary seemed to appear out of thing air. She was one of the few locals that the embassy employed that wasn't cleaning staff. She was an attractive baran girl who had managed to pass the background check with surprising ease compared to some of the others who had applied. She was raven haired and bright eyed, dressed in a skirt that ended at the mid thigh. "Excuse me your highness, a message arrived for you during your absence. I believe you may want to see it sooner than later" she said as she approached; her heels clicking as she walked. Half the time he expected her to break an ankle, between her state of tight dress and the stilts that she had taken to wearing.

"Oh? Let me have a look" William replied as he paused. He had been smoothing down his wet hair when she had approached, something he had forgotten to do earlier when he was dressing. The baran handed him a piece of paper with a short message on it, handwritten instead typed, a sign that it had probably been dictated to a degree. It was a request for a meeting, the sooner the better from what he gathered. He let out a sigh as he tucked the piece of paper in his pocket. He had a looser schedule than before, which opened him up for more opportunities like this. "Tell him that I can meet him at any point today or the next two days without any scheduling issue. I'm free during those time, I believe" the prince replied as he looked down at the girl. Edomites always ran short when it came to him, at least it seemed that way.

"Yes your majesty, you do" she replied with a nod; her ponytail bobbing. "I'll contact the Minister right away" she replied and bowed. Turning she quickly headed to her small work station to do just that; while the prince retreated to his office.

[New Edom]

Josiahstown, Dengali

He could barely hear Ajam on the phone. "You will have to speak up, General," he said, biting back his distaste for giving the murderous ruffian any honorific. "I cannot hear you, there is a great deal of static on the line."

"I have no doubt that the she-devils from the north, the witches, the Deadorans, are trying to block my communications! I received one message from New Macureus but I cannot seem to respond! I would like to pass it on to you, Mr. President, so that you can send them my reply!" shouted Ajam.

Andrews winced. He clenched his teeth, forced himself to relax. He could only imagine. New Macurean distaste forthe spreading of the Shrailleeni religion and their desire for new markets had prompted this. And under his nose. It was unbelievable! "General, I will do my best," he lied.

"Thank you, Mr. President! I hope that in this conflict many of our differences can be overlooked in the name of the defense of Dengali!" shouted Ajam.

"I will send two infantry battalions to help you," said Andrews. He heard static and pops, and smiled grimly.

"Mr. President, I cannot express my gratitude!" shouted Ajam.

"Dengali is one nation, General Ajam," said Andrews, grinning at his staff who were watching anxiously.

Ajam quickly shouted, "Long live Dengali! And thank you." he clicked off.

Andrews said, "I want to see that New Mac message the moment we get it, understand?" to his communications secretary. The man, a journalist by former trade, nodded.

"Of course, Mr. President. But I hope you know that the Deadorans might know about it, as might the Shrailleeni. Ajam doesn't have the tech as far as I know for encrypted messages." he said gravely.

"I know. It gives us ammunition against the swine for the future, Matthew my friend. Go, go, check your computer. I will deal with this other message..." he sat down heavily in his chair, "From the Emperor of Ghant."

Reading it, he was somewhat confused. The Emperor of Ghant? A nation up in the frozen north, a nation he really knew little of beyond the occasional movie or mention in a history book. Oh and the recent royal wedding of course. He raised the letter, looking at the Prime Minister who was still in the room.

"Cassandra, what do you think?" he asked her.

"It's very strange," she mused, reaching over to take the letter and reread it. "I suspect that he is trying to make up to the New Edomites. They haven't seemed like very good allies lately, from what I've heard. You know, voting against the Imperium in the CPO, sending mercenaries to Peregrino. It's a bit of a topsy turvy situation."

"The only thing I can think of is to suggest that he give us some diplomatic pull,” he said. “I have never heard of the Ghant Empire really—doing much—outside of their own land. But their Prime Minister has said a lot in the papers, didn’t he?” he stroked his chin. “Very well then.”

From the Office of the President
To His Imperial Majesty Nathan IV of Ghant

Your Majesty,

Thank you very much for your kind thoughts expressed in your letter. I am indeed worried about the intentions of the Deadorans. The Shrailleeni Empire’s Queen of Dressana is negotiating on my behalf, as is the New Edomite government.

Any diplomatic weight you could pull on our part would be helpful in requesting a proper investigation of the situation, which is quite complex unfortunately. General Ajam is a warlord occupying parts of northern Dengali, who I have been in negotiations with to help establish national unity. This tragic and unfortunate attack in Deadora was apparently none of his doing. I do not trust this man but I find it hard to believe he would have the audacity to pull the tail of the Deadoran panther.

We have heard reports of Deadoran troops crossing the border, but we have little information beyond that and reports and small unit engagements approaching the city of East Lova in Tabora Province, an area occupied by Ajam.

I would be glad to talk further about your intentions and I would appreciate what help you have to offer.

Sincerely,
President Joseph Andrews

[New Edom]

The Foreign Ministry, Fineberg

As Prince William entered the Foreign Ministry, he saw a crowd gathered in the foyer, and an 18th Century Naval Officer, with a cocked hat and double breasted jacket, had removed his hat and shouted in gusty voice: "Now give me three cheers! I'll lead the way! Hurrah--hurrah--"

"Hurray!" shouted

There was a drum roll, and a squad of 18th Century soldiers with tricornes, double breasted jackets, hose and heels came marching forward with muskets over their shoulders. "Squad--halt!" called the squad leader. They did with a snap of heels. "Present--arms!"

Arriving with a group of bewigged ladies in 18th Century gowns was a man with an even fancier cocked hat with feathers, many decorations on his jacket, silken white hose tucked into buckled shining shoes, a gilded sword at his hip, who nodded around as the sound of strings quietly filled the air, and sang:

I am the monarch of the sea,
The ruler of the Queen's Navee,
Whose praise New Edom loudly chants.

One lady sang: And we are his sisters, and his cousins and his aunts!

Others. And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

Grand Admiral: . When at anchor here I ride,
My bosom swells with pride,
And I snap my fingers at a foeman's taunts;

Lady. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

Grand Admiral. But when the breezes blow,
I generally go below,
And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants;

Lady. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!

ALL. And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!
His sisters and his cousins,
Whom he reckons up by dozens,
And his aunts!

"This way, Your Excellency," said a painted, naked gracefully aged civil servant politely, gesturing William towards the executive entrance. "Sorry, it's Opera Day. The Prophet Burden loved opera, we do it in his memory, and really, so did Mr. Touchstone. Wonderful man, Mr. Touchstone, though of course, God bless the General! Yes, where would we be without the General indeed?" he led William into an elevator and up to Levi Dathan's office. "I hope you are well today sir. We continue to pray for the Princess and all in your family..."

Levi Dathan in his office was watching the opera on his screen, chuckling as they heard: "Of legal knowledge I acquired such a grip
That they took me into the partnership.
And that junior partnership, I ween,
Was the only ship that I ever had seen.
But that kind of ship so suited me,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!"

"Ah, Prince William, sorry, let me turn this off," he switched off the television and urged him to sit down. "You look tired, sir. Tea, fizzy water, something stronger perhaps?" as he had his servant take William's order, he said, "Well. I'm glad to see you. It seems like it's been forever since you came." he nodded to his servant as the drinks were provided; Levi's was a glass of iced fizzy water with raspberry juice.

"Prince William, I hope you will forgive me for coming to the point so quickly, but there's some concern about what we've been hearing about the 103rd's readiness to participate in the troubles in Dengali. I'm not entirely clear on where your government policy lies in supporting our treaties in ways that are not dealing with direct threats to the Allied States of New Edom--or even if we have heard correctly what your father the Imperator wants to do if anything about Dengali. So I thought we could talk about that, clear that up."

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Dressanna, Marbidi Province
Southern Dengali

Gillya felt the hint of a chill race down her spine as the Deadoran royal spoke. It had been far too long since she had experienced a conversation like this one. Too many foreigners had long abandoned the ways of subtlety, Dengali and New Edomites preferred their politics blunt and underhanded in the same measure. Princess Jacqueline was not as refined at her craft as the Mother Empress, but the careful bending of her words made her a match for any in the Noble Houses, as did the face which revealed nothing of her true intentions. On one hand it filled her with a sense of familiarity, on the other it reminded her of the family politics which she had long fought to escape. Of course, such feelings were irrelevant to the situation at hand.

"Yes," Gillya replied with an air of contemplation that belied the certainty of her next words, "I have had countless conversations with President Andrews about the influence of a barbarian warlord over nearly all of the North. Ever since the Empire and our New Edomite allies saved this land from occupation, we have sought to maintain a peaceful and unified Dengali. The warlord has been tolerated because we have not had the resources or influence to expel him, but neither the President nor myself have forgotten that Ajam gained power in this land by raiding and stealing it."

Jonathon sat quietly as Gillya spoke, not entirely certain that he liked where her train of thought seemed to be headed.

"I think that it is clear now, thanks to Her Majesty the Matriarch Empress, that Ajam's dangerous and disruptive influence can no longer be denied or tolerated. No longer a means of stability, he has threatened not only his fellow Dengali but the stability of the region as well, by attacking the Matriarch Empress in his fervor to assault matriarchal influences. Thus it was, since the Empire and Josiastown have been powerless to act against him, that the Matriarch Empress did this nation a great service by having the wisdom and foresight to put her foot down on the Patriarch's neck, and remove his influence from Dengali."

The Queen gently folded her hands in her lap, catching Jacqueline's eye.

"This being the intention, however, does not depart from the fact that the Matriarch Empress has moved her forces into a region protected by the Mother Empress without first giving warning or statement of intent. These actions fall short of the ideals of International Sisterhood and cooperation. I am afraid that while justified, Deadora must make amends to the Mother Empress and to her ally the President of Dengali once the warlord Ajam has been removed."

Jonathon sat upright, suddenly unsure of where the queen was going and unaware that she had reached a decision spontaneously in that very moment. He still remained silent, trusting her to know what she was talking about, as she continued with the slightest gleam in her eye.

"I shall send my forces North to join the warriors of Deadora in ending the regime of Warlord Ajam, and I shall assure President Andrews and Fineberg that Deadora has acted as a friend of Dengali, not as its enemy. In return, the Matriarch Empress must make good on the commitment that she has made to her Dengali Sisters and Brothers. I shall welcome Her Majesty's promise to aid in the reconstruction and continued development of Tabora as part of a unified Dengali state. I recommend that infrastructure be developed to better connect Deadora with her Dengali Sisters and Brothers. And as a token of mutual respect and a sign of the Matriarch Empress's commitment to a peaceful, stable, and united Dengali, I would suggest that Deadora aid in contributing to the defense base here in Dressanna."

Gillya could tell that Jonathon was less than pleased, he was not very adept at hiding his emotions. But he was wise enough to save voicing his problems for a later date. She knew that he wanted independence for his people, but she had thought long and hard about this. For all of the problems that she had with the Shrailleeni Empire, it was still her nation, her home, as much as Dengali. She wanted what was best for both of her homes, and that meant not dividing them unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Do you believe that these terms would be acceptable to Her Majesty the Matriarch Empress?" she asked calmly.

---

Dressanna, Palace Landing Pad

As the Osprey's rotors began to slow and the wind of their passing died down, a Dengali attendant moved forward from the nearby palace building to greet the new arrivals. Stepping out into the haze of the late morning sun, she dodged the few workers who were moving to tend to the vehicle with a purposeful step, professionally dressed in the pre-Edenist New Edomite style.

"Welcome honored Ambassador, Major," she said with a bright smile as she approached. "The Queen and Governor Butler are currently in a meeting, but they are expecting you. I am told that they expect to be finished shortly, if you will follow me please..."

The palace was one of the smaller buildings in the city, far from the splendor of its cousins on the Home Islands. Constructed with modesty in mind befitting the Queen of Dressanna's honorific position, it might have been mistaken for a manor house in Josiahstown but for the surrounding wall and extra guard. The style inside was more Dengali than Shrailleeni, though there were many more people of the latter than the former moving about their business. The area outside of the Queen's chambers was decorated to function as a luxurious waiting room, with some refreshments set out for those meeting with Her Majesty amid comfortable chairs. At this moment, the room was relatively empty save for two guards, two attendants, and a courier holding a urgently-marked packet.

---

To: His Majesty Emperor Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
From: Ambassador and Princess Chellaya Resyanna fe Shrailleen, Shrailleeni Ambassador to Ghant
Subject:RE: Dengali
Encryption: Delivered to His Majesty the Emperor in a sealed envelope by the hand of an Imperial messenger

Your Honorable Majesty,

I thank you for your kind thoughts regarding my family. They are returned tenfold to your own, as the hearts of the Shrailleeni continue to sing for the good health of the newest additions to the Imperial family and to their honored mother.

I have also been made aware of the event to which you refer. The Empire of Deadora, while a Sister nation and ally of Her Enlightened Majesty the Mother Empress, can often act in ways which may be difficult to understand. I have been appraised of the situation by my government, which so far is attempting to gain further intelligence of the situation before making any official commitment. I can, however, ensure Your Majesty that the Empire shall uphold all of its treaties, and is committed to the sovereignty of a peaceful and united Dengali.

With great humility, I accept Your Majesty's invitation to dinner. Perhaps at that time, further information may come to light which I might share with Your Majesty regarding this unfortunate situation.

I am, as ever, at your disposal as representative of the Shrailleeni state.

With the love of the Goddess,

-Ambassador Princess Chellaya Resyanna fe Shrailleen

[Deadora]

Tabora Province
Northern Dengali

A Company, 3rd Heavy Infantry Battalion
Advance to East Lova
And almost just like that the first battle had been won. Oh there was still attempts at resistance as some of the enemy found courage in the face of death, a trio of soldiers advancing up the road on foot were torn apart by a stream of machinegun fire. But there was no attack on a Deadoran soldier that wasn't returned in kind, often twofold with fire support from the BMPs. With most of the Dengali dead or fleeing, it was a simple matter for infantry to outflank the pockets of defiance.

Deirza's party closed in on the fleeing captain. He was no fool, deploying a smokescreen and disappearing into the long grass, staying near the earth. But she was determined to capture this man, he might be their only source of intel on what lay ahead. The three AFV's fanned out, soldiers clambering onto their roofs and giving eyes in all directions. One could only crawl so fast through the dirt, it was only a matter of time.

"There!" a soldier cried, pointing at a dark line in the plains where the captain's body had crushed the grass flat. He dismounted along with the rest of his squad and ran to surround the man, delivering a kick to the man's side but otherwise content to hold his gun on him until Captain Deirza arrived. Within moments a ring of rifle barrels was pointing down at the grubby Dengali.

Deirza exited her APC and approached. Her hand rested casually on the hilt of her knife, a large single-edged weapon with a sharpened hook cut into the tip and serrations along the spine. Of course she left it in its sheath as she squatted down on her haunches and stared at Aneke. There was no need to scare him, yet.

"Name and rank." She said simply, as if giving an order to one of her own.

---

The General Advance

Skirmishes with local forces had gone much the same for the other companies of the 3rd Heavy Infantry as it had for A Company. Superior firepower, mobility, armour, and numbers overwhelmed Ajam's first counterthrust. Prisoners were taken and loaded into trucks, to be carted back across the border into camps. Wounded Deadorans, and the bodies of the dead, were likewise heading north, though in much smaller numbers. Dead Dengali were left to rot under the sun, often with their genitalia removed and inserted into their mouths or left in piles on the roads.

But soldiers and officers alike were loathe to tarry. They had won their first victory, an easy victory. Further, those few casualties they had suffered only inspired anger towards Ajam and the Dengali. Genuine, bestial anger entirely different from the cerebral outrage of The Tower. Roads were cleared, and the 3rd pressed on towards East Lova. Behind them came the 2nd Heavy Cavalry, the 4th Heavy Infantry, and the artillery. Unblooded, but eager. Ka-50's and '52's shadowed the advance; with the element of surprise gone it would be better to let ground forces engage the enemy and call in air support rather than continuing to risk the birds as forward scouts.

---

5th Light Infantry Battalion
The Bridge

Meiryn had time for one reload after his first rocket hit its mark; he was well acquainted with the RPG-32, his limbs operating with drill-precision even as gunfire was exchanged by both sides. He tried to peek out from cover to get a shot, but a spraying cone of lead filled the air and slammed into the side of the truck. Grimacing, he seized a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin with his teeth, and threw it over the truck in the direction of the machinegun fire, using its distinctive noise to guide his aim. Without waiting for the explosion, the Deadoran moved to the other end of the truck, took aim around the side and loosed another rocket at a guntruck.

He knew instantly what they were trying to do, but pinned on the road with the derelict trucks obstructing their line of fire, there was little he could do.

---

Lieutenant Zshek brought her chopper around to a northward course, she'd just received a request from a Light Infantry company for some air support at one of the bridges. She supposed the Dengali were trying to blow them up. Fighting over bridges and roads. . . She was quite glad to be up in the sky, where all that mattered was skill and killing.

They came in low, as near to the rivers surface as could be done. She wanted to give the fuckers as little time as possible to try and blow her out of the air. Nothing to do about the noise, but that's why they had speed.

---

The Village

"Your sons are yours and your daughters are safe," Askyr said, attempting a calm tone but coming off more terse. The Dengali accent was barely coherent at its worst, and these old men spoke thick. "Are any of Ajam's men in the village? Do they keep supplies or weapons here?"

While she was speaking, some of her soldiers were unloading a few crates that had been packed along in one of the trucks. Inside were things like preserved food, basic medical supplies, mosquito nets. When the villagers started chanting, several soldiers, particularly the young men and women, began fidgeting with unease, fingering the hilts of their knives.

[Shalum]

The Foreign Ministry, Fineberg

Unfortunately for the tired ambassador, the Edomite Minister was free for the time being, and within a half-hour William found himself in a government issued sedan bound for the Foreign Ministry building. The car ride was a quiet one, as William passed the time with his wireless tablet, occasionally lancing out the window at the passing city; while the two STG agents up front said nothing as they normally did. When they finally arrived at the intended destination, William told his two bodyguards to park the car and wait for him, the ambassador seeing no need for extra security with security as tight as it always seemed to be in Fineberg.

As he stepped into the government building, his brown eyes went wide as he gazed upon the sight before him. People in what looked to be costumes were everywhere, and and he entered, broke out into song much to his surprise. For a brief moment, he looked on at the show with surprise, his eyes studying those around him. What the hell had he just walked into? Thankfully a servant led him away from the whole scene and toward, what he assumed, as the minister's office.

It took the moment for the prince to realize what was being said. He gave the servant a small nod and a sad smile. "Yes, well enough I suppose, thank you for asking. And...thank you for your prayers, they mean a lot" he replied quietly as he stood in the elevator; watching the numbers tick by. In truth, he had been trying to think about Anna as little as he could, if only to spare himself the mental anguish. He didn't want to know what was being done to her now, especially since she was too important to kill off. Whoever was holding her was probably wanting to use her as leverage or ransom, but was keeping quiet for the moment. In the meantime whatever was happening to her was probably something no one should have ever had to go through. He had learned through his father that the STG was on the hunt in Novitera for her, where there was a lead, but there had been no results so far.

William entered the minster's office to find the man watching the scene unfold on a screen, the man appearing bemused from what the prince could tell. While he had nothing against opera personally, the Shalumite ambassador found it a tad annoying at the moment, though said nothing of it. Thankfully the minister shut the screen off. "Minister Dathan, it's been a while hasn't it?" William replied as he took a seat as beckoned. He felt tired, and it apparently was showing. Maybe he had chosen the wrong day to run his arse off. "Some tea would be nice, thank you" William ordered as he shifted in his seat; adjusting his silk tie. Ties. He had always hated the things, it always seemed like they were trying to choke him.

The Shalumite crossed his right leg over his left as he listened to Levi, not minding that he was to the point about things. The thing he hated about political meetings was the underhandedness of it. He much preferred being told the situation right off the bat instead of being buttered up and having his time wasted. He took a moment to reply, sipping on his tea and setting down before he did so. "It's of no issue, Minister Dathan, thank you for inviting first of all. Regarding the issues in Dengali, my government isn't quite ready to jump into another war just yet. The reason the 103rd is being offered to assist though, is because we're allies, and allies help each other when need be. We have faith in the Edomite military, but since we have forces present in New Edom who are more than capable of performing combat operations, we thought we would at least offer."

"As far as the treaty goes, we're obligated to join in if the Edomite homelands are threatened, assuming I remember correctly. From what I understand, the Conclave of Dominae and the marine's commandant were thinking of moving the 103rd into defensive positions in New Edom closer to Deadora, but not get involved with the fighting in Dengali itself. Of course, if Deadora invaded or if our forces were fired upon, we would be definitely be open to taking more drastic measures to ensure the safety of our forces and of New Edom. With the invasion being conducted by the Shalumite army, my father has been hesitant to make large troop movements outside of Shalum and Azurlavai, of course" William replied. "Does that answer your questions?"

[New Edom]

Bhang Boro, Lwo'orune Province, Dengali

Chairman Lionel Impassa waved, smiling, to the crowds; he wore a traditional blue, red and yellow embroidered Barbo robe, and many of the crowd in the market square were Barbo as well. Bodyguards surrounded him, as well as aides and some of his wives. He was a Grand Elder of the Barbo, representing 5 clans who held strong economic positions.

The Barbo were a curious people. They were officially listed as 'egalitarian' by the WA, but were in fact demarcated along strict gender role lines that gave roughly equal power to men and women. Women controlled the lineages and held licenses over many village based crafts upon which people's lives depended; men owned the land and traditionally defended it and herds. Thus unions between each were necessary in order to keep the tribe going.

There were Barbo in different provinces in Dengali and in Dahamy, and the Chairman, Lionel Impassa, represented a confederation of less represented tribes as well as Barbo on both sides of the border. He had been elected Chairman of the Lwo'Orune Socialist Party as a result of this. One of his platforms was the establishment of a Barbo homeland, similar to Kavoland in the SE. He controlled a very stable section of the land, which was disputed to some extent towards the Tabora border by minor warlords owing allegiance to Ajam, and by traditional land disputes wth other tribes in Kadisa. Recently he had been negotiating with Josiahstown, Nalaya, Dressana, Deadora, Dahamy and New Edom for recognition of the Barbo Homeland Republic.

In a way he was at an advantage; the Barbo Homeland Republic was a largely agrarian area anyway; it controlled no vital mines; the most valuable resources were palm forests, and he planned to negotiate contracts for sale of palm products. A strong environmental platform and appeal to the WA to preserve traditional forests would establish treaties that made it hard for anyone to want to push hard exploitation, especially if all the powers he treated with agreed to hold one another accountable.

"Well, we have rumours," said his nephew, Vincent Impasso, a skinny young man in a white tropical suit and fedora, getting into the landrover with him, "That the Deadorans have invaded Tabora, to finally send Ajam to his final rest."

"Great," said Chairman Impassao. "That's fantastic news. Takes the pressure off the Border Rangers, eh?"

That was saying something; the Border Rangers were light infantry trained somewhat by former Republic of Dengali soldiers, mostly armed with a mix of a few old fashioned battle rifles they had little ammunition for, semi automatic or single shot hunting rifles, machetes, and homemade bombs. The best they could accomplish was to do hit and run raids against Ajam's lackeys and demoralize them. It was always a tense situation. The previous year, several villages had been raided, people killed or enslaved. Now it had been reduced to a no man's land along that stretch of territory where small groups of men hunted one another from time to time. Ajam had resorted to mining parts of the area as well. The Barbo had been forced to evacuate.

"Barbo Homeland, here we come! We must emphasize our peaceful nature and how we contrast with the madman Ajam, and make sure that we support all accusations against him."

"Something else...that Edomite fellow, the one who is the purchasing agent for the National Farming Corporation, he passed on a message, from Perrin Pahath-Moab himself. Requesting permission to land forces in Lwo'Orune to help deal with the situation in Tabora." his nephew said cautiously, eying him.

Chairman Impasso kept his face blank. They had arrived at his compound; a group of children ran up excitedly to him, and he got out, smiling hugely, and patted heads, handed out sweets, waved to the people. "Tell him from me that I am deeply honoured by this request, but that I am in delicate negotiations for the sovereignty of my people, and I dare not risk this; I will of course have to speak to the other nations which border my own first."

"Yes, Uncle, but he also said that there is an agreement, a request for help from President Andrews." said the nephew. "And agreement from Nalaya."

"But not Deadora or the Shrailleeni, hm?" Chairman Impasso said. "We must be very careful then. I must see to my family now of course, and then this evening I will speak to the company agent. I will make it a priority."

"This evening?" his nephew said, raising his eyebrows.

"I cannot see him earlier than that. And...take your time about finding him. You know what they say...Dengali time is still so backwards, we are such primitive people. You know what to do."

[New Edom]

The Foreign Ministry, Fineberg

"It does admirably," said Levi. "In that case, on behalf of my government, we would appreciate it if a brigade strength element of the 103rd were to be moved to Brightwater in Raith Immel for joint exercises with the Elwe Division. The Commander's name is Celtachair. He is, appropriately, an Elwe. It is a light infantry division, somewhat spread out throughout the province though the headquarters, support units, transport, artillery are also at Brightwater. I suppose it would be easiest if you conveyed to General Harper that he should report to the Ministry of Defense for a more precise briefing. Not being a military man myself," he added with a smile.

"You look very tired, Prince William. I hope you are getting plenty of rest." Levi had noticed that William had dropped the subject of Lavinia Nabal entirely--as though she had never existed.

Gone Air Force Base, Haran Province, New Edom

Desert winds swept across the vast expanse of New Edom's largest Air Force Base, a well secured home to bombers, long range satellite systems, refueling units, a fighter squadron, and long range missile systems. Dust was raised from columns of vehicles that had been arriving over the last while.

Colonel Samuel Daniels had received orders for elements of his 32nd Hussars accompanied by a battalion of the 17th Light Troops to be mounted up and prepared for passage across Nalaya towards Dengali airspace. Apparently there was no confirmation that they could use any landing zones in Iwo'Orune, or in Dahamy. However they were permitted to fly through Dahamean airspace, and if need be land planes for repairs or refueling, but not to disembark any troops or deploy from that country. Realisticaly speaking, for C-10 Minotaurs, which were the only planes they had large enough to transport vehicles and helicopters by air, they would have to land at Josiahstown. It was, apart from Dressana, the only area in the country with airstrips large enough.

Well, that was up to the Air Force Squadron Commander; his job was loading up his hussars. The Deadoran witches were threatening the freedom of Dengali. And he had orders, clear orders, from his President.

The desert sun blazed down on them as 1200 armoured cavalrymen, 700 Light Troopers and 600 support troops were moving in long disciplined lines up into the cavernous plane interiors.

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel
As ye deal with my condemners so with you my grace shall deal
Let the hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel!
His day is marching on!
Glory, glory, hallelujah, glory, glory hallelujah!
Glory, glory hallelujah, his day is marching on!

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat!
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgement seat!
O be swift my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant my feet!
Our God is marching on!

Glory, glory hallelujah!
Glory, glory hallelujah!
Glory, glory hallelujah!
Our God is marching on!

LT-10 Phorusrhacos light tanks, Sorcha IFVs, Hamsher APCs, Vigilo Armoured Recon Vehicles, and variants to provide artillery and anti-aircraft support were moving into planes as well as men and women. They had practiced this before; deployments around the world were not done on mere whim. There had always been the notion of doing a fast and hard deployment in the region. Experts in air transport carefully strapped the vehicles in. In some cases they might need to be deployed by parachute from low altitude, which was risky, but perhaps necessary in a nation like Dengali.

Colonel Samuel Daniels was a man who had seen much of war; he had fought in the civil wars, in the Elwe uprising, against the Anarchists, in Pravengria. As a Haranese, he often led his regiment in prayer himself, for he came of a family of priests. His dark eyes, his olive skin burnished by the sun, his dark hair, his long nose and chiseled features spoke of a man used to long hardship and who had come to a sense of inner peace as a warrior.

Howver this time he was silent, bowing his head with the other senior officers as the National Air Force Chaplain assigned to the base raised his hands in blessing.

"Holy Spirit, Breath of God, who dost inspire and sustain man's destiny, quicken we beseech Thee, the hearts and minds of all who serve in the National Air Force; that those who fly may brave the perils of the air with courage; that those who labour on the ground may be infused with zeal and devotion; and that all who bear the burden and heat of the day may be refreshed with the live-giving power of thy grace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," they all said, and raised their heads. All around them was the screaming gathering noise of engines warming up.

[New Edom]

Tabora Province
Northern Dengali

The Ravens and the crows already soak up the skies.

The last brave elements had been overrun; some soldiers, out of sheer fear and confusion, had held their hands up without thinking. Most did not; most expected a swift or slow death anyway and either ran or had fought on. But people did not always think clearly in the midst of action. Up close, a large number were mere boys, fifteen, sixteen, skinny, wide eyed, pouring with sweat coming in rivulets through the dust on their bodies, wearing boots, camouflage pants or shorts, some wearing just vests, others t-shirts, some bush jackets, bush hats, helmets, baseball caps and other assorted headgear. They had a patch showing Ajam's flaming cross emblem.

Aneke had heard shouts, running footsteps, vehicle noises, and realized they were all close; he felt panting terror. They would torture him, they would kill him, they would castrate him. He thought of his wife. He had to admit he had taken her by force--but he had known it was in the old way, described in the Bible. He would never know now if she had forgiven him and learned to love him. He turned just as he was kicked in the side, then saw barrels pointing at him. Gasping in pain and for breath, he shuddered seeing the female officer like some kind of witch, pale eyed, pale skinned, approaching him.

"I am Captain Aneke of the Army of General Ajam," he said hoarsely, teeth clenched against the pain.

---

The Retreat

The other light infantry companies kept moving, but they had apparently already been outdistanced; they would have to coordinate and outflank the enemy attack on East Lova, it seemed.

In the retreat, some of the conscript soldiers melted away at points when there was confusion, and there were such moments as officers argued about maps and routes, as they tried to determine who was rightfully in command of this operation. Some were concerned for home and belongings, while others were just afraid of coming up against a fully mechanized modern army unit of Deadorans.

Those who remained moved warily down country roads and across country in some locations, afraid of being attacked by enemy aviation or running into a mechanized column.

East Lova

The defensive trenches that had been prepared around the city were built to resist mortar and machinegun fire. They were slanted so that while soldiers could mount a firing step to shoot at their enemies, packed earth and sandbags faced heavy weapons attacks.

Exhausted shirtless soldiers worked in shifts improving defenses, stringing barbed wire between the foxholes and improvised bunkers. They panted, drank water from sun warmed bottles or drank lukewarm cheap carbonated drinks; they eagerly ate mashed yam and cassava porridge brought round by camp follower women and children.

A powerful voice blared over public loudspeaker systems: Soldiers of the Army of the Flaming Cross, the Army of Ajam! Be aware that the eyes of God are upon you! Be brave, and be strong! For if you die in the service of your people, you will pass through the veil of this world into Heaven! Be assured, the Deadoran witches will fall back in fear before your courage! Be assured that your General loves you, and looks down upon you with affection and admiration for your courage!

People had begun to drift into hiding in the city in some cases. However the more zealous followers, full of fear and hate, had begun to don red soaked bandannas and be armed with machetes, crude home made shotguns and pistols, had been issued hunting weapons, and urged to help the soldiers make the city impossible to take easily. People drew their curtains in fear from some of these mobs that swarmed into the streets, listening to crude foreign lyrics whose rhythms put them into an angry frenzy. Rallies of the warlord's spokesmen on radio and in public areas from loudspeakers on trucks reminded the people that the Deadorans were monsters. They would rape people, male and female alike; they would mutilate breasts and genitals, they would burn children alive.

In contrast, soldier and militia alike began to get themselves into a war frenzy. As the work was being completed, they were urged to paint themselves with crosses. "It is not a sin," shouted one officer to his men, "When we have been victorious, to tame the Deadoran whores with your cocks! For they have been too long without real men!"

concealed from enemy air recon under cammo netting were the D-30 howitzers and mortars, the anti-tank and anti-air squads that would, hopefully, blunt the enemy advantage, scatter them, and make them vulnerable to attack. Ajam foresaw a great flanking move then from his light infantry to fall upon the scattered remnants and destroy them.

The Bridge

"Grenade!" shouted a soldier; too late, there was a horrible scream; the enemy weren't slowing down for anything; they were doing suppressing and heavy weapons fire to try to break the line. This was down to the actions of individual soldiers and small units; crawling from whatever cover there was, even the body of a dead comrade, and firing a short burst to try to pin down someone, peek and seek what was there, throw a grenade, slap in a new clip, grit your teeth and psych yourself into moving while you were given covering fire from the other squad. RPK gunners fired in coughing roaring parabolas towards the approaching enemy units.

Captain Hanani motioned to his team. "Alright, fall back now, let's roll out the wires." This was doing it the old fashioned way, but he worked with what he had. Everything was low budget in this damned place--but then he had grown up low budget. Amazing what you got used to. The wires were around the blasting caps. He backwards scuttled, his unit covering him. One of the trucks was struck by an RPG; he flinched, shut his eyes a moment, kept moving. Then he heard a noise that had blended with the explosion that was not--rotary blades. Damn!

"Give me covering fire!" he shouted back at the others. "Get me some covering fire!"

They had no MANPADs here, what they did hopefully have was the ability to ambush whatever aviation that was with RPGs, strike at the rotors and the pilot's cockpit with two or three at once. In the bushes on the other side of the river, gunners loaded up, crouching to aim at the direction the helicopter was coming from, to let fly the moment they saw it. Captain Hanani was running down the bridge, almost to the other side.

---

The Village

"Yes, we were forced to keep supplies of grain for them, and fuel," said the shorter stockier elder immediately. "I can show you where."

The villagers subsided, and examined the offered supplies with interest and eagerness. Meanwhile, the elders showed them that hidden under some of the huts were basement like pits holding large airtight baskets and jars full of coarse grain flour as well as 20 liter plastic jugs of fuel. There was enough to resupply a motorized company hidden in the village.

"This is part of how the General Ajam avoids the raiders from Barbo country, Dahamy, and the south. They try to hunt down his supplies to weaken him, but he must have other schemes," said the elders.

Dressana

Mehitabel Taramundi waited quietly and calmly. On the outside. Within, she was worried. Why were they obliged to wait? For how long? She must seek her peace. Not for the first time, she reminded herself it was about her country, not the man she directly served. Major Malluch, beside her, seemed even more serene. He was a special forces soldier though; he was used to patience and calm even more than she.

They waited.

[New Macureus]

New Macureus City Probe,
Alar Darin

First Commissar Vair Padin, in a rare speech given since the temporary and mysterious absence of General Ios Melin, openly expressed criticism of Deadora's attempt to blame "anyone but their own agents who created a false flag attack of the particular solar plant, when it is nothing but a pretext for aggression against Dengali. Between the Deadorans and the Shrailleeni, there is a clear and implicit conspiracy to reduce Dengali to a matriarchal colony in spite of its previous strides toward meritocracy and equality among the sexes. They are caught between the Deadoran hammer and the Shrailleeni anvil. The former wishes to emasculate all mankind and the latter wishes to deprive their own society of the men's abilities and merits. Left to themselves, it's national suicide, but spread abroad, it is murder. It is highly illogical and harmful to the human race."

Padin also warned the Dengali Government that, "your best interests are not served by docile obedience to two hostile nations that wish to relegate half your population to slavery. We are confident that true patriots, such as General Ajam, understand this, and we urge the Republic to follow their example. We stand with the Dengali people against the matriarchal menace. Equality must be as true for men as for women. We would oppose a patriarchal aggressor, so why not a matriarchal one as well?"

Padin also urged "the Edomite government and nation, powerful as it is, to stand with Dengali and with us against the Deadoran-Shrailleeni peril, against which we have long warned this region. Now that our warnings are vindicated, perhaps you will listen."

The obvious question here is....where is General Melin? Did he endorse this new attitude, this new militancy in foreign policy, or is First Commissar Vair Padin now standing on her own? Is he dead or alive? For the present, we have First Commissar Vair Padin, making broad pronouncements, but is this really the new way? Who is really in charge here?


First Commissar Vair Padin

[Ghant]

Saint Elena’s Hospital,
Ghish, Ghant

Nathan slept in…for the first time in over a week. When he came to, he got through the usual stiff neck, rubbing it thoroughly, and then proceeding to clear the dust from his eyes. Damn, I am hungry.

He wasn’t the only one. Sophia was nursing Sara, while Arietta was holding Nathan Jr., to whom Nathan often referred to simply as “Junior”, or more simply as “June.”

These babies were as different as night was from day. Sara was a sweet baby…she was content, happy, and cuddly. The feeble Prince John was quiet. Seldom did he move or make noise, aside from whimpering. It was clear that he had Dakmaran lineage, on account of being pale with black hair and deep blue eyes. All the babies had blue eyes, but John’s were definitely of the Dakmaran variety.

June, on the other hand…was a screamer. He let Sophia hold him…but god forbid anyone else did. The Crown Prince was very demanding and fickle. As evidenced at that particular moment, when Arietta was holding and trying to soothe June, who was wailing as if dying.

Nathan got up from his seat, and that gave away that he was awake to Sophia and Arietta. “What’s up?” Nathan asked, stretching.

“Just feeding our baby girl…she is so sweet.” Sophia fawned over the little Princess Imperial, who was feeding upon breast.

“This son of yours is such a pain!” Arietta exclaimed, as June screamed bloody murder while his aunt attempt to console him.

“…Give him to me.” Nathan said, as he walked over to where Arietta was sitting. He scooped up the Crown Prince and held him close. He had his father’s stony blue eyes, and for a moment he stopped crying. Nathan examined his eyes, as the baby’s eyes examined his. This went on for a good ten seconds, before the baby began wailing again. He apparently was very hungry.

“Nathan…let’s trade.” Sophia was finished feeding Sara, and held her out for Nathan to take. Nathan nodded, and walked up to Sophia and traded babies. Sure enough, as soon as Sophia took June, he stopped crying, and then he was on breast.

Oh…I see how it is, Nathan thought. You are a momma’s boy. Baby Sara didn’t seem to mind dad, as she merely made cute baby noises in her father’s arms and studied his eyes.

Then the messenger appeared, catching the Emperor off guard. “Nathan, you have some new messages.”

“Huh…do I now?” Nathan handed his daughter off to Arietta, and then he read them all. “Interesting…alright. Well, seems as though I ought to respond.”

Nathan took a deep breath and left the room. In another, there was his laptop upon a small table. He sat down then and got to work.

To: Prince Amenmar Ugulin
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Dengali
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Ambassador Prince,

Your respects, well wishes and concerns are greatly appreciated, Amenmar. To answer your question, it is of concern to me because I get the sense that Deadora might be attempting to assert itself at the expense of Edomite interests, which would also be at the expense of Ghantish interests. For at this time and for many years to come, what is good for New Edom is good for Ghant, and what is bad for New Edom is bad for Ghant.

So, what I am thinking is that you could come down to the hospital, see Sophia and the babies, and we can discuss my observations, concerns and ideas in person. I think that would do wonders in terms of me being able to articulate myself properly.

-Nathan

To: President Joseph Andrews
From: Emperor Nathan IV of Ghant
Subject: Dengali
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Indeed, my suspicion is that Empress Jennifer has orchestrated a false flag attack upon the solar plant in order to justify action against your country. Worry not, for I intend to use whatever diplomatic leverage I might have to not only seek out a proper investigation into the situation, but also to put pressure on Deadora in order to get them to hesitate committing any hostile acts.

I will be discussing with the Edomite government ways in which to proceed. Hopefully the use of military force will come as a last resort, but Ghant will stand by New Edom if it chooses to stand by Dengali in its hour of need. Should there be more, I will certainly contact you. And please, do not hesitate to contact me should you fee the need arise.

Sincerely,

-Nathan

To: His Majesty Emperor Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
From: Ambassador and Princess Chellaya Resyanna fe Shrailleen, Shrailleeni Subject: Dengali
Encryption: Delivered to the Ambassador Princess in a sealed envelope by the hand of an Imperial messenger

---

Dear Ambassador Princess,

Thank you for your kind thoughts and words, and it is truly a blessing to count the Shrailleeni amongst Ghant’s closest friends.

Indeed, I have full faith and confidence that not only will the Shrailleeni be fully committed to their treaties, but also that they will retain their commitment to peace.

I look forward to seeing you at the Palace,

-Nathan

*************************************************************************************************************************************************

Ghantish Embassy
Bryn Tegna, Deadora

…I wonder what this could be about…does he have a marriage suggestion?

These were Lady Anara of the House Lianu’s thoughts as she was handed a message from Ghant with the Emperor’s seal upon it. It took her by surprise. She had been sitting at her desk doing as she always did, reviewing documents and handling paperwork. Then the message came, and she set aside what she was doing and opened it.

---

To: Lady Anara Lianu, Ghantish Ambassador to Deadora
From: Nathan IV, Emperor of Ghant
Subject: Deadora
Encryption: Delivered by mail in sealed diplomatic envelope

My dear Lady and Ambassador,

Recently I have been made aware of events in the Empire of Deadora that I find most troubling. These events consist of the terrorist attack at the Jeizzen solar power station, the incident at Magna Lacuna, and the execution of Queen Asha D'Bhati of Legirahn for treason.

At present, I find these series of events most troubling, and in light of Empress Jennifer’s comments in a recent article of the Tower, I suspect that Dengali is at risk of Deadoran aggression. I wish to learn more about these tidings…and I want to learn more about the situation at its source. More specifically, there are two things I want you to do.

I want you to request an audience with Empress Jennifer Thrall, firstly. I want you to probe her, pick her brain, and gather her thoughts. I want to know what she is about, what she plans on doing and I want to better get an assessment of her intentions. Secondly, I want you to request an audience with Queen Baela D'Bhati of Legirahn. I want to know more about her mother, her treason, and get a better grasp on what exactly happened there, and how it plays into the unfolding situation in Dengali, if it does at all.

Good luck and Godspeed, my lady, and I look forward to learning what you might discover, as much and more might hinge upon what you could learn.

-Nathan

Anara sighed deeply, and got up from her seat. Then she began to pace around her office, thumbing at the books she had on her bookshelf. This is a dangerous game you are wanting to play, she thought of the Emperor. I am not trying to get killed, after all.

There was a plenty to go around of late. Sure, there was Queen Asha D’Bhati of Legirahn, but there was also Queen Undrea D'Quarr of Fedic, whose neck Jennifer drove a spear through. Of late it seems as though queens are dropping like flies. The daughter of Lord Gerion Lianu and Lady Mara Manatu may have been someone special in Ghant, but in Deadora, she very easily become the next victim of Jennifer’s fury, she suspected.

Yet, Lady Anara was not a Deadoran woman by any account. She was a Ghantish lady though and through. She was about 5’10’’, clean-limbed and usually in a silken dress, with today being no exception. Her skin was soft and smooth, a few freckles here and there, and she had very long, light brown hair that had a honey color to it, with hazel eyes. She was often said to have had a “cute” face, with a warm smile and by all accounts, a non-threatening appearance. Perhaps it was the latter quality that she was tapped to be ambassador to Deadora. She seemed like a good fit, at least. She was well-educated in international relations, was diligent in her duties, the daughter of a great lord, and was of the right age and temperament, being 27 and also…quiet.

Well, there is no sense in stalling, Anara thought. Might as well get to it. Anara sat at her desk and got to writing her messages.

To: Arlenica Nessic, Matriarch of Foreign Affairs for the Feminist Empire of Deadora
From: Anara Lianu, Ghantish Ambassador to Deadora
Subject: Audience with the Empress
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Most Honorable Matriarch,

I hope this message finds you in good health. As per my government’s wishes, I would at this time like to request an audience with the Empress to discuss the state of Ghanto-Deadoran relations, as well as to discuss recent events which have garnered the attention of my government, namely the unfolding situation in Dengali.

Naturally, I am at the disposal of the Empress, and I can wait until such an audience would be convenient for Her Majesty.

Sincerely,

-Anara Lianu

To: Arlenica Nessic, Matriarch of Foreign Affairs for the Feminist Empire of Deadora
From: Anara Lianu, Ghantish Ambassador to Deadora
Subject: Recent Events
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Most Honorable Majesty,

I hope this message finds you in good health, and that Legirahn flourishes under your rule. It is for that reason and others that I am sending you this communiqué.

My government has become aware of recent events occurring in Deadora, and it has been deemed by them necessary that I might seek you out for an audience, should your Majesty have the time and inclination to do so.

Sincerely,

-Anara Lianu