Allied States mission to the CoS | New York City, Allied States | 1400 hours
Eric cleared his throat. He slid his head to his left and then his right, seeking to crack as his neck. It had been bothering him for the last four hours, from the moment he had sat down in the leather chair behind his mahogany desk until now. But he couldn’t stop to take a rest or hire a masseuse. The other delegations were soon to arrive at the headquarters, and when they had all arrived, the conference would begin.
It wasn’t the first time that the CoS held a meeting, nor the first time Eric had a meeting with international dignitaries, but he had just been appointed the Allied States’ ambassador to the Coalition months before, and he had yet to meet them in person. Of course, he was optimistic, hoping to be a better host than the last; at the last conference, there was serious animosity, particularly between Altarians and their American counterparts. It revolved around the fact that the delegates were from the Citadel of Tranquility, which had sent with them armed personnel and some Phalanx vehicles with them. Essentially, the conflict was that the Americans were reluctant to allow the Altarians entrance with the weapons they carried and the Altarians arguing that the Americans were nonsensical.
This year would be different. The headquarters in New York hadn’t been finished when the last conference took place. The international complex hadn’t accommodated themselves to receiving the armed personnel they did and the vehicles they had. But the Coalition’s headquarters was to change all of that. The Altarians had their own special parking garage, specialized to deal with the size and characteristics that a Phalanx carried with it. In there, weapons were also to be stored and any additional guards would remain, with only a small compliment of troops actually entering with the delegation, as with all remaining, although Eric had made it clear he wanted the First Encounter Defense Service to be the main defense force. They had already arrived at the General Assembly chambers, setting themselves up for the conference.
Eric sighed. He held in his hands dozens of papers placed neatly into their folders, all with the Great Seal of the Allied States printed on the top, the words “Coalition of Steel” plastered over it. In italics below the seal were the words, Lux animi et ferro, the Coalition’s proud motto. Eric had learned basic Latin when he was in the tenth grade, and he quickly translated it to, Light, Courage and Steel. An appropriate motto.
Smiling, he turned his swivel chair around and looked out the window. Through the thick and powerful glass he observed a sight that eased his tensions – right there, in the East River, navigating through the thin strip of water, was an enormous New York-class cruiser. The A.S.S Liberty. A vessel of the 10th Fleet. Its enormous 155mm railgun on the front sat on its deck, prepared to fire upon and eliminate anything it deemed a danger to the sovereignty and protection of the Allied States or its allies. Within, hundreds of missiles were stored, with over five dozen VLS cells prepared to fire a variety of missile types. On its back, it carried an MUH-12 Hawk utility helicopter, equipped with the gear necessary to conduct anti-submarine warfare.
And that was just one ship. From the 10th alone, there were half a dozen ships guarding southern New York alone, another dozen within an hours’ response time, and half the fleet could be engaged by three hours. And that was discarding the fact that in the North Atlantic, there were four other fleets that could provide assistance.
And then, the marines.
But military tactics were not his area of expertise. He would care, yes, if New York came under attack, but he could do very little to help the military defend it. He would likely be evacuated before anything could damage the CoS building.
As he turned back around, his assistant, Dianna Haywood – a former ambassador to the World Assembly who later volunteered to be Eric’s go-to-gal – opened the door and smiled at him. After he waved his hand at her politely, she entered and said, “Mr. Knight, the meeting is to begin in an hour. Are we prepared with all of our topics of discussion?”
“Yes, we are, Ms. Haywood,” he replied, standing up and grabbing his folder. “The Department of State has already given me a full list,” he lifted the yellow folder to her, “in which it explains what topics to discuss, what points to make, and any additional information for which they may ask.”
“Preparing for all contingencies, Mr. Knight?” she asked.
“So it seems. And with all of this information, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t speak of all of our topics for this conference. What’s the status on the other delegations?”
“On their way. Some are to arrive soon.”
“All right, then. Let’s get the chamber prepared.”
“Of course, Mr. Knight.”
It wasn’t the first time that the CoS held a meeting, nor the first time Eric had a meeting with international dignitaries, but he had just been appointed the Allied States’ ambassador to the Coalition months before, and he had yet to meet them in person. Of course, he was optimistic, hoping to be a better host than the last; at the last conference, there was serious animosity, particularly between Altarians and their American counterparts. It revolved around the fact that the delegates were from the Citadel of Tranquility, which had sent with them armed personnel and some Phalanx vehicles with them. Essentially, the conflict was that the Americans were reluctant to allow the Altarians entrance with the weapons they carried and the Altarians arguing that the Americans were nonsensical.
This year would be different. The headquarters in New York hadn’t been finished when the last conference took place. The international complex hadn’t accommodated themselves to receiving the armed personnel they did and the vehicles they had. But the Coalition’s headquarters was to change all of that. The Altarians had their own special parking garage, specialized to deal with the size and characteristics that a Phalanx carried with it. In there, weapons were also to be stored and any additional guards would remain, with only a small compliment of troops actually entering with the delegation, as with all remaining, although Eric had made it clear he wanted the First Encounter Defense Service to be the main defense force. They had already arrived at the General Assembly chambers, setting themselves up for the conference.
Eric sighed. He held in his hands dozens of papers placed neatly into their folders, all with the Great Seal of the Allied States printed on the top, the words “Coalition of Steel” plastered over it. In italics below the seal were the words, Lux animi et ferro, the Coalition’s proud motto. Eric had learned basic Latin when he was in the tenth grade, and he quickly translated it to, Light, Courage and Steel. An appropriate motto.
Smiling, he turned his swivel chair around and looked out the window. Through the thick and powerful glass he observed a sight that eased his tensions – right there, in the East River, navigating through the thin strip of water, was an enormous New York-class cruiser. The A.S.S Liberty. A vessel of the 10th Fleet. Its enormous 155mm railgun on the front sat on its deck, prepared to fire upon and eliminate anything it deemed a danger to the sovereignty and protection of the Allied States or its allies. Within, hundreds of missiles were stored, with over five dozen VLS cells prepared to fire a variety of missile types. On its back, it carried an MUH-12 Hawk utility helicopter, equipped with the gear necessary to conduct anti-submarine warfare.
And that was just one ship. From the 10th alone, there were half a dozen ships guarding southern New York alone, another dozen within an hours’ response time, and half the fleet could be engaged by three hours. And that was discarding the fact that in the North Atlantic, there were four other fleets that could provide assistance.
And then, the marines.
But military tactics were not his area of expertise. He would care, yes, if New York came under attack, but he could do very little to help the military defend it. He would likely be evacuated before anything could damage the CoS building.
As he turned back around, his assistant, Dianna Haywood – a former ambassador to the World Assembly who later volunteered to be Eric’s go-to-gal – opened the door and smiled at him. After he waved his hand at her politely, she entered and said, “Mr. Knight, the meeting is to begin in an hour. Are we prepared with all of our topics of discussion?”
“Yes, we are, Ms. Haywood,” he replied, standing up and grabbing his folder. “The Department of State has already given me a full list,” he lifted the yellow folder to her, “in which it explains what topics to discuss, what points to make, and any additional information for which they may ask.”
“Preparing for all contingencies, Mr. Knight?” she asked.
“So it seems. And with all of this information, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t speak of all of our topics for this conference. What’s the status on the other delegations?”
“On their way. Some are to arrive soon.”
“All right, then. Let’s get the chamber prepared.”
“Of course, Mr. Knight.”