To Thwart a War [CLOSED, ATTN BRATO]

[The Cookish States]

Ciudad Contierra

The Chancellor waited in his room. The Bratoslouvakian rime Minister was due to arrive very soon. At each of the two double doors in the room were two Cookish Marines in their ceremonial garb with their L85's, bayonets attached. Out the window one could see the thriving port, ships docking and leaving, cargo unloading. Then there was the industrial segment in view as well. Gray smoke floating through the air gave a sure sign of productivity. However, he could also see the pile of rubble from the Todo Intifada attacks. The place the great cross used to be. A pity. Faman now made sure the conference room was set correctly. A nice, circular glass table sat just by the large glass window that overlooked the city. In the corner was a man in a white chef's uniform, waiting to make tea, coffee, or to pour alcohol in the case that either of those meeting wanted any.

"I hope it isn't too classy for the poor guy."

Soymer looked over and made a signal for a cigar, his voice too tired from a rally to yell the 20 feet across the room. The man in white brought him a Cocinaran cigar, famous for its quality and lit it for him. The nice white tile, fake marble, echoed under his hard soled shoes as he made his way to the table, stopped abruptly, and continued quieting as he made his way back to his station. Fluorescent lights dangled a bit from a very high ceiling, enough to where every man had four shadows. The meeting would begin soon.

[Bratoslovoukia]

Ciudad Contierra

Osip Karam, the Prime Minister, yawned as his armored car pulled up to the Cookish conference center. Osip Karam was wearing a simple blazer over a white shirt and some khaki pants. His graying hair and beard were tussled by the wind as he exited the vehicle with his group of guards and aides. All that was on his mind was getting this meeting over with and not starting another war. The last thing that Bratoslovoukia needed was another war.

"Sir, this meeting is a waste of time. I suggest you get it over with quickly." Joachim, one of Osip's aides cooed.

"That would be disrespectful. We cannot afford to shame our nation any further." Osip responded.

Joachim grunted quickly as they entered the building.

Osip and his men quickly ascended the stairs before arriving at the room. The soldiers all had their small arms holstered and his aides were poised with pens and paper to take their notes. Joachim opened the door and entered, Osip followed motioning for his soldiers to step outside except for two. He quickly identified Soymer and extended his hand to be shaken.

"President Soymer, it is truly an honor to be in your presence. I hope these discussions are fruitful." Osip exclaimed with a confident smile on his face.

"Please bring him a cigar and a glass of tea." Joachim whispered to the man in the chef's hat.

[The Cookish States]

Ciudad Contierra

Osip Karam, the Prime Minister, yawned as his armored car pulled up to the Cookish conference center. Osip Karam was wearing a simple blazer over a white shirt and some khaki pants. His graying hair and beard were tussled by the wind as he exited the vehicle with his group of guards and aides. All that was on his mind was getting this meeting over with and not starting another war. The last thing that Bratoslovoukia needed was another war.

"Sir, this meeting is a waste of time. I suggest you get it over with quickly." Joachim, one of Osip's aides cooed.

"That would be disrespectful. We cannot afford to shame our nation any further." Osip responded.

Joachim grunted quickly as they entered the building.

Osip and his men quickly ascended the stairs before arriving at the room. The soldiers all had their small arms holstered and his aides were poised with pens and paper to take their notes. Joachim opened the door and entered, Osip followed motioning for his soldiers to step outside except for two. He quickly identified Soymer and extended his hand to be shaken.

"President Soymer, it is truly an honor to be in your presence. I hope these discussions are fruitful." Osip exclaimed with a confident smile on his face.

"Please bring him a cigar and a glass of tea." Joachim whispered to the man in the chef's hat.

"Chancellor. But the title isn't important, it's the power behind the position. Your men will need to leave, as will mine. This is a private meeting."

The Cookish Marines escorted the chef and the Bratoslouvakian envoy out of the room, Soymer twiddled his thumbs boredly until the foyer was empty. As the doors shut he spoke..

"I do not intend to beat around the bush here. I don't like the way your nation is run. Corruption is seen as a large, difficult monster that's impossible to manage but my nation seems to have wiped it's slate very clean of corruption within a year. Furthermore, you Bratoslouvakians are warlike when it suits you, and nearly cowardly when it does not suit you. Are you aware that your nation is classified as a rouge state by many abroad? Some severe reforms are in order or I'm quite afraid that Cookish soldiers and sailors will be insuring them for you. I do not intend to be spiteful, or malicious, but these are the facts, and you must address them."

Soymer felt as though he'd been a bit harsh, but this man he spoke to seemed a capable one. The last thing he needed was for the war drum to start beating, but he wouldn't avoid a war out of weakness. A line had to be drawn somewhere, and now it was here.

[Bratoslovoukia]

Ciudad Contierra

"I am quite aware that my nation is consider a rogue nation by many others. I have not come here today to be reminded of opinion rather to discuss the facts, my friend. I have come here in good faith to better our nations respective futures, as it seems our forces are now posed on the brink of war if not sanctions. Perhaps we must begin directly. What concessions will you make and what should I?" Osip stated, sitting back in his seat.

Osip was concerned, this Chancellor Faman Soymer seemed impetuous and demanding. He wished that the ultimate resulting of this very sensitive discussion would not be affected by the behavior of one of the participants. Osip had been put in quite a position here, but much like the proud nation of Bratoslovoukia he wouldn't even dream of backing down anytime in the future. If it was war that the Cookish States wanted, then it was war they would get.

[The Cookish States]

Ciudad Contierra

"I am quite aware that my nation is consider a rogue nation by many others. I have not come here today to be reminded of opinion rather to discuss the facts, my friend. I have come here in good faith to better our nations respective futures, as it seems our forces are now posed on the brink of war if not sanctions. Perhaps we must begin directly. What concessions will you make and what should I?" Osip stated, sitting back in his seat.

Osip was concerned, this Chancellor Faman Soymer seemed impetuous and demanding. He wished that the ultimate resulting of this very sensitive discussion would not be affected by the behavior of one of the participants. Osip had been put in quite a position here, but much like the proud nation of Bratoslovoukia he wouldn't even dream of backing down anytime in the future. If it was war that the Cookish States wanted, then it was war they would get.

Soymer smiled a bit. He was a very benevolent man, too kind for this kind of talk. But he powered through it.

"I want a de-militarized zone, fifty miles from your border with New Macureus. I want assurance that your government can remain reasonable and I'd sure as hell like for the delinquency of your state to come to an end. It may seem like I'm coming off as belligerent, but our nations have been butting heads since before the Edomite Civil War. I'd like to see that come to a halt, but not at the expense of my nation's standing. This region is on the brink of a long lasting peace, and you, Osip, are endangering that. If it takes one final war to stamp out the last ember of warmongering, I will not hesitate to lift my shoe."

Faman sipped his coffee and took a drag from a cigarette, flicking the ashes on the floor. Looking out the window, he awaited Osip's response.

[Bratoslovoukia]

Ciudad Contierra

"I am quite aware that my nation is consider a rogue nation by many others. I have not come here today to be reminded of opinion rather to discuss the facts, my friend. I have come here in good faith to better our nations respective futures, as it seems our forces are now posed on the brink of war if not sanctions. Perhaps we must begin directly. What concessions will you make and what should I?" Osip stated, sitting back in his seat.

Osip was concerned, this Chancellor Faman Soymer seemed impetuous and demanding. He wished that the ultimate resulting of this very sensitive discussion would not be affected by the behavior of one of the participants. Osip had been put in quite a position here, but much like the proud nation of Bratoslovoukia he wouldn't even dream of backing down anytime in the future. If it was war that the Cookish States wanted, then it was war they would get.

Soymer smiled a bit. He was a very benevolent man, too kind for this kind of talk. But he powered through it.

"I want a de-militarized zone, fifty miles from your border with New Macureus. I want assurance that your government can remain reasonable and I'd sure as hell like for the delinquency of your state to come to an end. It may seem like I'm coming off as belligerent, but our nations have been butting heads since before the Edomite Civil War. I'd like to see that come to a halt, but not at the expense of my nation's standing. This region is on the brink of a long lasting peace, and you, Osip, are endangering that. If it takes one final war to stamp out the last ember of warmongering, I will not hesitate to lift my shoe."

Faman sipped his coffee and took a drag from a cigarette, flicking the ashes on the floor. Looking out the window, he awaited Osip's response.

Ciudad Contierra

Osip looked in Faman's eyes for a moment then quickly shot his cold glare out the window overlooking the city. New Macureus posed a massive threat to the nation of Bratoslovoukia, not as a military power but rather as a gateway. New Macureus was allied with some of Bratoslovoukia's major enemies. The New Edomites could put thousands of troops on the ground in New Macureus before Bratoslovoukian artillery was set up. He quickly decided to go on the offensive.

Osip took a quick sip of coffee.

"Faman, if I may call you such, it is not my intention to sacrifice my nation's ultimate security in exchange for not being threatened. My nation at the moment has one of the top five largest defense forces in the region. I am willing to concede to a DMZ, but I am a political realist, for all the power and influence over New Macureus I lose, they and there enemies gain. I am not a man for a one ended deal, as I don't wish philanthropic with the lives of my citizens. I'll start your concessions with no sanction, what else can you offer me?" Osip smiled grimly as he shifted his gaze down at the table, but quickly shifted his glare up to Faman's eyes.

[The Cookish States]

Soymer smiled a bit. He was a very benevolent man, too kind for this kind of talk. But he powered through it.

"I want a de-militarized zone, fifty miles from your border with New Macureus. I want assurance that your government can remain reasonable and I'd sure as hell like for the delinquency of your state to come to an end. It may seem like I'm coming off as belligerent, but our nations have been butting heads since before the Edomite Civil War. I'd like to see that come to a halt, but not at the expense of my nation's standing. This region is on the brink of a long lasting peace, and you, Osip, are endangering that. If it takes one final war to stamp out the last ember of warmongering, I will not hesitate to lift my shoe."

Faman sipped his coffee and took a drag from a cigarette, flicking the ashes on the floor. Looking out the window, he awaited Osip's response.

Ciudad Contierra

Osip looked in Faman's eyes for a moment then quickly shot his cold glare out the window overlooking the city. New Macureus posed a massive threat to the nation of Bratoslovoukia, not as a military power but rather as a gateway. New Macureus was allied with some of Bratoslovoukia's major enemies. The New Edomites could put thousands of troops on the ground in New Macureus before Bratoslovoukian artillery was set up. He quickly decided to go on the offensive.

Osip took a quick sip of coffee.

"Faman, if I may call you such, it is not my intention to sacrifice my nation's ultimate security in exchange for not being threatened. My nation at the moment has one of the top five largest defense forces in the region. I am willing to concede to a DMZ, but I am a political realist, for all the power and influence over New Macureus I lose, they and there enemies gain. I am not a man for a one ended deal, as I don't wish philanthropic with the lives of my citizens. I'll start your concessions with no sanction, what else can you offer me?" Osip smiled grimly as he shifted his gaze down at the table, but quickly shifted his glare up to Faman's eyes.

Faman listened to Osip boast about his nations military. From what he knew, it was an unorganized horde armed with modern weaponry. Though, stereotypes were often incorrect.

"One of five largest? Large is not a concern of mine, my friend. Effective, that's a concern I hold. My nation happens to boast one of the most effective militaries in the region. My army of less than a million could overtake yours simply because I have more people at home, producing, than overseas fighting. 10,200 people supporting every foot soldier, have you any idea what that looks like? So, if we are finished waving our dirty militaristic dicks all over this nice clean table, I may go on.."

Faman set his drink on the table and took a last drag before stamping out his cigarette..

"I won't make concessions. A DMZ may yield a break in the sanctions over time, but this isn't a deal I'm making now. I can send you a personal gift of a car, or even a rifle so that you don't go home in shame, but I'm afraid that's it."

[Bratoslovoukia]

Ciudad Contierra

"I am not a chump, my friend, as I feel you take me for such. Surely you jest about the DMZ, do you expect me and my nation to forfeit power over nothing. I am not here to appease you, I am here to protect the lives of millions of our respective citizens. How do suggest that a DMZ be constructed, as that certainly would require the consent of New Macureus? As it seems at the moment, a foreign-sanctioned DMZ would be an infringement on the respective sovereignty of Bratoslovoukia and New Macureus." Osip made a grim look on his face as his interest faded to rage.

Osip took a longer sip of his coffee.

"My friend, could you also explain to me the allegations by the CEC that there is voting fraud in Bratoslovoukia? My government will not stand for such derisive slander." He pressed on.

[The Cookish States]

"It's simple, my ships will continue to blockade and straddle your maritime border until such a time as New Macureus is considered to be safe. I advise that you give the international community a peace plan, or be ready for your nation to be forced into self sufficiency."

Soymer smiled...check

"The CEC is a very old and respected board. It investigated all available information and found your claim of a 94% approval rating to be ridiculous and untrue. I, personally, am not above fudging a number or two, or rounding a poll up. But your method is blatantly corrupt and dishonest. Unless you lead a nation of robots and clones, you cannot have 94% agree on anything, not in a true republic or democracy."

This made Faman wonder, we're the Bratoslouvakian people even free? Or were they suppressed beyond ability to speak out? He couldn't stand to let men like Osip remain in power. But, Faman feared a war as well, a well trained enemy far away would be difficult to conquer. But...not impossible. Going back on his word, his initial campaign promise, he began to plan for war. 

[Bratoslovoukia]

Ciudad Contierra

Osip saw the disgust grow in Faman's face. It was time to stop being so aggressive and kick in the charisma. After all, there was a reason he was elected in the elections. Osip took a long sip of his hot coffee, took his glasses off, and tiredly rubbed his eyes. His malicious grin turned to a relaxed but melancholy look.

"Oy vey," he muttered under his breath.

"My friend, our nation has been corrupt since the beginning of time, everyone knows that. I was not responsible for the polls or approval ratings, and neither was my government. The infernal press companies do them. I have made significant reforms in my nation. Corruption is at an all-time low though it is here. People can vote. The elections were not rigged, I only won by a small margin. I will consider the DMZ, but for now, could you show me Cookish heritage, this is a state visit after all."

[The Cookish States]

Ciudad Contierra

Osip saw the disgust grow in Faman's face. It was time to stop being so aggressive and kick in the charisma. After all, there was a reason he was elected in the elections. Osip took a long sip of his hot coffee, took his glasses off, and tiredly rubbed his eyes. His malicious grin turned to a relaxed but melancholy look.

"Oy vey," he muttered under his breath.

"My friend, our nation has been corrupt since the beginning of time, everyone knows that. I was not responsible for the polls or approval ratings, and neither was my government. The infernal press companies do them. I have made significant reforms in my nation. Corruption is at an all-time low though it is here. People can vote. The elections were not rigged, I only won by a small margin. I will consider the DMZ, but for now, could you show me Cookish heritage, this is a state visit after all."

"So long as you understand that the blockade and sanctions will be in place until a proper plan for peace, which shall include the DMZ, then of course."

Faman stood up and motioned to the window.

"This is Ciudad Contierra, though most just call it Contierra. Capital of the State of Contierra, and of the nation. It's also the largest town in the country. Hispanic culture is prevalent here, white people only consist of 30% of the population. We could stop and get a meal, but that may send a wrong message to our peoples. We can't laugh and socialize, and then turn around and announce that basically nothing came of these talks."

Soymer looked pensively..

"Ah! I'll have it brought here. What are your thoughts on enchilada verde con salsa de carne? Or, have I confused you already?"

[Bratoslovoukia]

Ciudad Contierra

"This is diplomacy, isn't it. Touring your nation is just showing the public that we're talking and you're showing me about the culture of your nation, it would simply be a publicity stunt." Osip responded looking at his watch. "What is that Chili con something?"

[The Cookish States]

Ciudad Contierra

"This is diplomacy, isn't it. Touring your nation is just showing the public that we're talking and you're showing me about the culture of your nation, it would simply be a publicity stunt." Osip responded looking at his watch. "What is that Chili con something?"

Faman's look soured..

"Perhaps your people are fool-able, but mine are not. If we are parading around, smiling, and then suddenly we go to war, I will be seen as a two faced warmaker. In case you haven't noticed, my citizens think of you as a soon to be war criminal and despot. Granted, this may be untrue in your eyes, but our eyes are not important here."

He motioned that they'd stay in the foyer, and the chef brought the food.

"I understand that you'll have a response, but please, do try the enchiladas first."

He suddenly thought that he was pushing the food a little too much, so he took a bite for himself first. You never knew, poisonings were common, and hopefully that'd ease Osip's mind.

[The Cookish States]

OOC:The meeting ended, since war is about to kick off. So we'll say Osip stormed off, and Foymer gave no comment on the meeting except that it disappointed him

[Norvenia]

OOC: Here Beginneth the Edwards Hill Summit

Edwards Hill, Northern Astor Basin, Commonwealth of Norvenia

The actual seat of the Norvenian executive, as everyone knew, was Chancellor House, the sandstone Romanesque mansion surrounded by rambling parkland in the very heart of Astor-of-Stone. But Chancellor House was a modest abode, and after James Edwards hauled the Commonwealth out of economic crisis and catapulted his Christian Socialist party to a half-century of political dominance, the Norvenian public decided that something grander was needed.

The result was Edwards Hill, the Chancellor's personal retreat in the mountains above the Astor Basin. It resembled a rustic version of Frank Lloyd Wright's famous "Fallingwater" house: perched atop a rocky defile above a waterfall, so that the water ran beneath the house, the structure itself was built from rough-hewn granite and heavy fir logs, giving it the feel of a lodge-like retreat. Stained-glass windows and thick shag carpets, animal heads and roaring fireplaces defined the interior decor. From porches and patios, one could see for miles over the endless pine forest and down into the rolling grain fields of the basin below; in the other direction; the bare and snowy peaks of the mountains rose up in sheer cliffs to puncture the clear blue sky. From everywhere in the house, the faint, soothing roar of the waterfalls could be heard, and from many windows one could see the water plunge away below the building.

This, then, was the chosen location for the summit that Gwillem Thomas hoped would bring an end to Cookish-Bratoslovoukian hostilities. The delegates would be driven in from Astor up a narrow road through the deep forest, and shown to their rooms - the conference was not expected to last more than a few days, but the accommodations suited the status of the guests even so. Each delegate was shown the way to the primary conference room, and told that the Chancellor would await them there at their earliest convenience.

Ordinarily, of course, one began with separate discussions, one with each belligerent party, in order to gain an insider's perspective on the issues at stake. But Frederick Vandercreuse and Amelia O'Donnel agreed that, in all likelihood, barely twenty-four hours remained before hostilities reached the point of no return, and so time was of the essence. It was for this reason that the negotiations were instead slated to start immediately, with both parties involved from the start.

The conference room itself was part and parcel with the rustic feel of the retreat - thick carpet and log walls, except for one expanse of glass offering a view over the waterfall just beyond, so close that its spray hit the windows, and over the pine forests of the valley below. A massive round table made from a single redwood tree, carved with the Norvenian seal, sat in the center of the room, surrounded by comfortable leather chairs; old oil landscape paintings hung on the walls, and a prominent bust of James Edwards stood in a corner. The bronze sconces were dimmed, allowing the bright, pure light of the Norvenian afternoon to illuminate the room through the window-wall.

When the Cookish and Bratoslovoukian delegates entered, Chancellor Gwillem Thomas stood. He wore a dark blue three-piece suit with a gold tie and a Celtic-cross lapel pin; at his side was Amelia O'Donnel, in a pale grey pinstripe high-collared pantsuit, and Frederick Vandercreuse, in plain black Norvenian dress uniform. The Chancellor smiled. "Ladies, gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. Please, take your seats. Before we begin, I believe that Secretary O'Donnel has a preliminary proposal?"

Amelia O'Donnel nodded, and leaned forward. "I want your solemn word," she said, "that while this summit is going on, neither party here represented will launch an attack on the other, or condone an attack of any kind by any of their allies. We are here to nip this war in the bud; we cannot do that if events spiral out of control even as we speak. So for the moment, the situation freezes: every unit holds off its attacks until further notice. Is that acceptable to you?"

[The Cookish States]

The leader of the Cookish delegation, Secretary of State Tarah Messina, looked to her delegation. Her black pant suit and white blouse showed that even for a woman nearing seventy, she was not quite unattractive. In the voice of a grandmother, with the tone of a bulldog, she spoke..

"No. We cannot agree to that. The Bratoslouvakian navy has already attacked us, and we have issued an ultimatum for them to leave our waters. If at any point they strike us again, or remain in our waters disrupting trade, as unfortunate as it may be, hostilities will continue. I am not opposed to a cessation of hostilities, but my people, and my military yearn for revenge. Moreso, they yearn for peace."

Tarah shot a look to her recorder, who noted her response. Looking to O'Donnel, the Secretary made a reservation..

"We won't beat the war drums yet, but Bratoslouvakia must back down. They must keep all of their ships within their own waters, all of their men within their borders, and they simply must lose their belligerent attitude. The blockade being enforced is a multinational one, comprised of nations such as Zanborian, a normally neutral country. We didn't start this, and if we did, it was in valiant reasoning we did so."

[Norvenia]

At this point, a pale-faced aide hurried into the room. Gwillem Thomas glanced up in annoyance and opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he saw the young man's expression. Wordlessly, the aide handed Thomas a piece of paper, and hurried out.

Gwillem Thomas read the message, then read it again, and then put rested his head in one hand, fingers massaging his temples. Without looking up, he handed the sheet of paper first to Amelia O'Donnel, who gasped slightly as she read it, and then to Frederick Vandercreuse, who growled deep in his chest like some great bear.

Now, at last, Thomas looked up. "I am informed," he said slowly, "that while we sat here in negotiation, trying to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict, Bratoslovoukian forces in the Blue Sea launched an unprovoked nuclear-armed attack against Cookish ships." The chancellor took a deep breath. "This," he said quietly, "is perfidy. It is a violation of the peace process and a betrayal of any trust in Bratoslovoukia which this government ever had. Moreover," Thomas continued, his voice gaining strength, "the non-retaliatory use of nuclear weapons is regarded by the Commonwealth of Norvenia as a crime against humanity, and regimes which commit crimes against humanity are, under the O'Donnel Doctrine, held to be stripped of all claim to sovereignty and regarded as the illegal manifestations of rule by the gun, not by the law."

Thomas turned to the Bratoslovoukian delegation, eyes blazing with a cold fury. "These negotiations are over. This government no longer recognizes your regime as the government of Bratoslovoukia. I doubt very much that after today you will find anyone in this region, even the Shrailleeni, willing to listen to you. That is how conclusively you have proven your untrustworthiness by this criminal attack. And I will seek a resolution from the Assembly to use all available Norvenian forces to topple your illegal and inhumane regime, and restore order and safety to this region." The Chancellor pointed. "There," he snapped, "is the door. I advise you to use it."