Global Economic and Trade Summit[AMW Only]

by **Chrinthanium** » Fri Jan 11, 2019 11:43 pm

January 14, 2019

The Chrinthani Convention Center, a newly-minted, multi-purpose convention center, was located to the west of the central business district just a kilometer or so from the halls of Chrinthani government just outside of Tumbalong Park and the Darling Harbour leisure complex, to the south of Darling Harbour itself and home to many of Sydney's attractions. The contemporary structure gave its visitors striking views of the nearby downtown as well as the amount of revitalization which had taken place in the complex's new neighborhood. Shops, restaurants, hotels, and even apartments nearby lent themselves to the feel of a twenty-first-century setting without giving the visitors the feel of futurism. A grand ballroom in the convention center had a spectacular 270-degree view of Darling Harbour and the central business district. It boasted 35,000 square meters of convention space. It housed an 8,000-seat plenary with a 180 square meter high definition screen viewable from its three tiers. It was here that the delegates would be introduced and given time to speak to the whole assembly. Modern connectivity via the building's integrated, high-speed wi-fi gave foreign dignitaries the ability to communicate with their home base instantaneously without fear of their communications being intercepted due to the highly-advanced encrypted and secured servers. Should the delegates find themselves wishing to stroll outside, there would be ample room in the 5,000 square meter outdoor meeting area that overlooked the city itself. When the time came to pair off and make deals, 70 rooms awaited those present to make any deal with any partner without fear of privacy breaches.

Within the confines of Brightmore Palace, Nathaniel busied himself preparing for the evening's festivities. In spite of his non-political position, when the world's leaders and their representatives were invited to Chrinthania for its turn to host the Global Economic and Trade Summit, he was considered the ultimate welcome wagon. It was at the request of The Lodge, home of the Chrinthani Prime Minister, that the Emperor himself host a black-tie state dinner to welcome the world to Chrinthania's largest and most recognized city. It was not something Nathaniel was interested in hosting due to the fact that his mind was set on his upcoming nuptials with one Shane Jennings. Still, Nathaniel was nothing else if he wasn't a great host and dedicated to his station in life, thus he would be debonair and polite, witty but yet understated, and flying solo as, per request of the Prime Minister, Shane not be present at a state dinner until he was officially married to the Emperor and ennobled as Prince-consort of Chrinthania (among other titles).

As the guests began arriving, the white walls of Brightmore Palace and it's iron and gold gates complete with a lion on one side and kangaroo on the other awaited. Guards in simple military uniforms of camouflage stood guard ensuring no unauthorized entry. Once inside, the palace itself revealed itself. The palace itself, built in 1850, wasn't like a Versailles. It was not opulent or ornate from its exterior. In fact, its current resident often commented about how it was "laid back, like any good Chrinnie bloke." It evoked Romanesque features like columns above its three main entrances with the central entrance being extended outward and slightly wider than the two on the far ends of the South facade. It was a typical square palace with a central courtyard. Behind the palace was an extension towards the waterfront which contained the offices of those who worked solely in making Nathaniel's life easier ranging from his butler and the private housekeepers to spare apartments for his brothers, mother, and other guests which he saw fit to invite--not to mention Nathaniel's own private apartment. At the end of the waterfront extension was a half-circle with columns that overlooked the waterfront itself. It was here where the private pool, gym, game room, and other entertainment rooms were located. Guests would be forbidden to enter this extension without personal escort of the Emperor or those with permission to bring back guests.

The Great Banquet Room was in the West wing. Boasting space to host up to 200 people without anyone fighting for elbow room, the Great Banquet Room was decked out for the event. fresh-cut flowers adorned the table in vases made of gold. Candelabras were positioned just so along the tables to give ample atmosphere to the dinner. The tables themselves were arranged in a flat u-shape with the Emperor seated dead center of the base of the U and the seating to his left and right organized by the Emperor's Private Secretary. No detail was left to a subordinate when it came to state dinners. The flowers, their colors, the lighting, and even the entire meal down to the smallest ingredient was personally approved by Emperor Nathaniel IV. The only things that would differ would be those with specific dietary requirements that would require a different meal than what was on offer--something which Nathaniel always insisted was readily available to guests invite but must be confirmed prior to their arrival to allow the kitchen to whip it up. Nathaniel's own appearance was scrutinized the most by himself. Those hoping to see Nathaniel wear glasses would be disappointed. The day called for contacts. Pearly whites given a cleaning to ensure there wasn't even the fainted hint of off-white on his teeth. As with the amount of detail he insisted he place into the meal and the banquet setting, he put equally as much effort into his attire. One could swear they could see themselves in his well-manicured fingernails.

Worn from his left shoulder and fastened down to the right waist was a yellow sash with green trim, the Chrinthani Colours, It would have three Orders pinned upon it (worn with the most recent order on top): the Order of the Triple Star, the Grand Order of the Golden Wattle, and the Most Noble Order of the Boomerang. And it would be his esteemed duty to welcome the visitors personally as they arrived. Mainly, a photo op as per usual.

And so it began.

by **-Roma Invicta-** » Sun Jan 13, 2019 8:18 am

Decimus Galerius Albinus, Consul of Rome
Sydney, Empire of Chrinthania
Monday 14th January 2019, 1500hrs Local Time

Consul Decimus Galerius Albinus leant back in the comfortable chair in his office aboard one of Rome’s two Airbus A380 Consular aircraft, the heavily modified version of the commercial aircraft used by the Roman Volantes to transport its most senior magistrates when they needed to travel the world. At the command of the Senate and People of Rome the Consul, one of two co-equal executive magistrates that shared the highest amount of governmental power and authority (termed Imperium) within the Roman system, had been ordered to attend the Triennial International Trade Summit, being held this year in the Empire of Chrinthania. They had flown from Rome to Aden, where they had taken on additional fuel at the Roman Military forward operating base there for the remainder of the long flight southwards across the Indian Ocean. All told they would be in the air for eighteen hours, not counting the stopover in Aden to refuel, fortunately however the Consular aircraft were not only designed for comfort but were designed to be able to run a country from if the need arose. With Galerius Albinus on his way to Sydney, and his co-Consul, Quintus Horatius Saturninus, overseeing the campaign in Madagascar, the city of Rome, and by extension the Republic, was in the capable hands of the Praetor Urbanus, meaning that the day-to-day running of the state would continue uninterrupted, but there were always things that needed the authorisation of one or both of the Consuls.

It was relatively unusual for both the Consuls to be out of Rome at the same time, although far from unheard of. Besides, both had very good reasons to be absent from the city; Horatius Saturninus was of course fighting his war, whilst Galerius Albinus’ own campaign, diplomatic rather than military, was just as vital. The global trade system was an important part of Rome’s prosperity, and that of its lingering colonia abroad, and Rome was perfectly placed, at the centre of the trade lanes that passed through the Mediterranean to all corners of the globe, and had tapped into it successfully for millennia. Continuing to do so was a key principle of Roman foreign policy and as such, despite his own lack of international trade and financial affairs, Galerius Albinus’ presence was to provide oversight from the highest level on this latest episode in the furtherance of that goal.

The specifics would be left to an expert.

Sat on the opposite side of the dark oak desk was Praetor Marcus Atilus Cordus, an older man who had just been elected to only his second magistracy. Atilus Cordus was not destined for the highest political office in the Republic, indeed this stint as Praetor was likely to be his most significant position. Unlike many Roman Magistrates, Galerius Albinus included, Atilus Cordus had not served in the Roman Military, which was unofficially one of the prerequisites for a truly successful political career, instead committing the first decade and a half to academic study in the field of economics. He had then enjoyed a short, but profitable, career in the financial sector before his attention had turned to serving the Republic. After some years working in the Basilica Pecunia, which handled Rome’s financial and commercial policy, as a civil servant he had been persuaded by his superiors to stand for election as one of the Quaestors that made up the lowest level of executive magistrates in the Republic. To his surprise he was elected easily and had gained significant public recognition for his reorganisation of the Republic’s financial protection legislation. It had been this highly visible role, after several banking scandals had shook the Republic, that had allowed him to successfully stand for election as Praetor Pecunia, Rome’s Chief Financial and Trade Officer.

Between the two of them their task at this summit was to, where possible, expand on Rome’s existing trade interests. Of course, Rome had its own methods of developing its trade but attending events such as this were important in any case, and helped expand the soft power that Rome could wield, which in many cases was just as important as the hard power backed up by the Roman Military. Both magistrates, but particularly Galerius Albinus was well aware that Rome played a critical role in ensuring the security of the Mediterranean, or Mare Nostrum as it was still known to the Romans, as any disruption of the international trade routes through the Sea would be disastrous to economies all over the world. Both Magistrates had a role to play in that respect; as a Consul Galerius Albinus shared high command over the Roman Military with his Co-Consul and was therefore responsible for the protection of the Mediterranean trade on a military level, whilst as Praetor Pecunia Atilus Cordus held command over the Cohortis Aerarium (the Treasury Guard), a militarised police force that was responsible for preventing financial crime and as the lead agency for counter-smuggling operations within the Republic’s territory, which as a result meant that its maritime arm served as Rome’s de facto Coast Guard.

As such, either of the two Roman magistrates could have worn military uniform; their imperium granted them command over military forces, alongside other things. However, this was a diplomatic event and flaunting Rome’s military strength would be counter-productive in a circumstance like this; it wasn’t like it didn’t remain unspoken given Rome’s traditions and history. Indeed, it wasn’t like there wasn’t a Roman military presence at the summit; the Roman Naval Ship (RNS) Cincinnatus, lead-ship of the Cincinnatus-Class guided missile cruiser was alongside in Sydney harbour, showing off Roman naval and military technology, and indeed the ship alone had several events planned. As it was the two magistrates were immaculately turned-out in formal, ornate, diplomatic uniforms; similar to those worn by Roman ambassadors and other diplomats, with Galerius Albinus’ being somewhat more decorative than his colleagues. These uniforms were very much in the style of court and diplomatic dress adopted by much of Europe, although there were clearly Roman influences, and whilst the usage of such uniforms in some states had diminished they were still alive and strong in the Roman Republic.

The Consular Aircraft touched down and, after it taxied into its resting position within a security perimeter established by the Cohors Lictor, the state-provided bodyguards of a Roman magistrate, made their way from the aircraft through the rigmarole that came with a visiting head of state to any other nation, before making their way to their waiting motorcade. The lictors of both magistrates had worked closely with their hosts to arrange for the security necessary for a visit by Roman magistrates, and they would have come across as professional and capable men who fully appreciated that, for the Chrinthani security services, having so many visiting heads of states, their entourages and their security details, had to be an absolute nightmare. So the lictors had done what they could to make things as simple and streamlined as possible for their hosts, whilst at the same time remaining politely firm on their own requirements when it came to protecting their charges.

To keep things simple the security details for the two magistrates had been combined, for a total of eighteen lictors between them, and although it was technically a security risk they had agreed to travel in a single motorcade rather than two; this limited the impact of the Roman delegation on both the Chrinthani security planning and its traffic patterns. The decision had been made to accommodate the two Roman magistrates at the Park Hyatt, a suitably up-market hotel for such personages as themselves, although the Lictors had arranged for a suite which was the most defensible, rather than necessarily the most expensive, the two magistrates would be staying in comfort and luxury to say the least.

“This will do nicely,” Atilus Cordus commented wryly. “Reminds me of my early years in the private sector.”

“I’m sure,” Galerius Albinus replied with a smile as they took in the view of Sydney together, standing in the communal part of the suite. “There were advantages to the corporate lifestyle I take it.”

“You could say that,” Atilus Cordus grinned. “After a decade or so I got altogether too old for it.”

“The corporate lifestyle?” Galerius Albinus quirked an eyebrow. “Or all this luxury?”

“You don’t have to be a corporate officer to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle,” Atilus Cordus replied wryly, glancing over at the Consul with a grin. “My family’s villas might not be as majestic as yours, but we still get along quite nicely.”

“A point,” Galerius Albinus conceded as he settled into one of the comfortable seats. “Are you prepared for tomorrow?”

“I am,” Atilus Cordus nodded, patting a pile of briefing documents on the coffee table. “Although I’ll get some more prep done tonight.”

“Good,” The Consul nodded, satisfied with his subordinates clear willingness to be fully prepared. “Shall we share some spiced wine? then we must away to the palace.”

“Of course,” The Praetor smiled as one of the servants they had brought with them, provided from Galerius Albinus’ own household, poured them two glasses of spiced wine. “I do hope that our campaign in Madagascar won’t cause any problems.”

“I doubt it; whilst we might have our own reasons for intervening in their little civil war, the fact remains that they do have a civil war going on there and people are dying and no one else stepped in to do it, so if it takes our selfish motivations to be the ones to do so,” Galerius Albinus replied as he sipped his wine. “Its the perfect set-up, if you think about it; we stop a civil war, save thousands of lives, then we have the perfect justification to settle our own people there as peacekeepers, how many veterans do you know that wouldn’t jump at the chance to get back into uniform and get their land grant, all without having to leave their new lands and homes to do so?”

“Very few,” Atilus Cordus agreed, sipping his own wine. “Are we not worried about a post-war resistance or insurgency?”

“There’ll probably be some, but we’re hoping to take out as many of the key figures on the government side, and to bring as many of the rebels into our camp as possible to avoid just that,” The Consul replied. “Besides, we’ll raise as much of a defensive force from the local population as possible; keeps them happy and gives them a real role to play in rebuilding the province; and its a lot harder for a resistance to gain public support if they’re killing their own people as much as ‘foreign invaders’, not that they’ll start with much support after the regime they’ll be standing for.”

Atilus Cordus nodded his understanding; the raising of Auxiliary Defence Cohorts in the colonia (the colonies) had always been a key part of the Romanising of new provinces; it not only provided a framework for the population to gain citizenship for themselves and their families, but also helped emphasise that although they had been ‘conquered’ they were not part of something far bigger that did not have to be an oppressive occupation. The Auxiliary Defence Cohorts would provide jobs and structure for military-age males, and more importantly it made those same potential foes part of the solution rather than part of the problem, and as these cohorts were almost never deployed operationally there was never the impression that they were being used for the gain of an occupying power; they were there to defend and build their homes… in the name of Rome, of course. Of course, there would be the presence of likely one legion deployed to Madagascar for the foreseeable future, along with the auxiliary cohorts raised by Roman transplants to the island, and it would be a delicate balancing act for the first few years, but it was something that Rome had done time and again over the centuries, millennia indeed, and by-and-large they were very good at it.

Soon enough the appointed time had arrived and the two Roman magistrates made their way back down to the secured garage and into their motorcade for the short drive across the city to the Brightmore Palace. As they stepped out of their vehicles they looked around them with interest, and the traditional Roman distaste for monarchies; which had only been reinforced during the age of the Emperors, after all the Republican Roman physique held that such grandeur ought to be in the service of the state and the people, not one man. It was not for naught that the two Consuls, the highest magistrates in Rome not only shared power but did not receive official residences, instead living in their own homes in the city. The Roman equivalent to the Brightmore Palace would have to be the Curia Romanum, the majestic nerve-centre of the Roman state in the Forum Romanum in Rome, but that was a building in the service of the entire of Rome, and its people, not one man, no matter how distinguished his bloodline. Never the less, they could appreciate certain aspects of the design. The two magistrates waited for their security detail to gather around them, only four lictors (two apiece) would actually enter the building, armed only with sidearms, with the rest of the detail remaining with the vehicles; before heading inside to meet the Chrinthani Emperor and the other guests.

by **Marimaia** » Sun Jan 13, 2019 2:14 pm

Park Hyatt Hotel
Sydney, Empire of Chrinthania
16:00hrs Local Time, January 13, 2019

The Marimaian Caliphate had been more than happy to accept their invitation to the summit in the Empire of Chrinthania as trade was particularly important to their nation in several ways. With reserves of over five hundred and five billion barrels of oil and forty-five trillion cubic metres of natural gas, the Caliphate was a significant supplier to many of the world's nations and could indeed be fairly called an 'energy superpower'. In addition to this, the Suez Canal ran through Caliphal territory and tolls were collected by the Suez Canal Company to pay for the upkeep of the vital trade artery; while the Suez Canal Company had a Board featuring representatives from those nations interested in such a thing, most of the maintenance work inevitably fell to Caliphal companies while Caliphal citizens occupied the vast majority of jobs linked to the day-to-day running of the Canal. The Marimaian Caliphate was also a significant player in terms of banking and tourism, so anything that could attract more business in their direction was favourable to the central government in Cairo as well as to several of the autonomous Emirates of the nation. It was therefore unsurprising that Prime Minister Faysal Osman would be attending the summit alongside Omar Hakimi, the Minister for Commerce, Investment and Trade. Emiri politics then decided the identity of the other major member of the delegation. The Emirates most interested in trade and commerce were dominated by the so-called 'Block of Four': the Emirate of Margravia, the Emirate of Ha'il, the Emirate of Abu Dhabi, and the Emirate of Khartoum. Due to the influence of the Emirate of Margravia as well as the Margrave family's own international reputation and corporate clout, it was decided by the Emirates that a Margrave would attend as part of the Caliphal delegation; this honour fell to Lysander Margrave, the eldest son of Emir Thomas Margrave, as Lysander had distinguished himself with the way that he had overseen the incorporation of Saint Lucia into the global Margrave business empire the previous summer. Lysander brought with him a representative of the Macau-Quanzhou branch of the Margrave family, Darui Liao-Margrave, on the understanding that the autonomous Serican city of Macau was in fairly close proximity to Chrinthania and could therefore potentially benefit from increased trade with the empire. Darui had worked with Lysander on Saint Lucia so the pair were an effective team, assisted by the fact that the fourth cousins were also lovers, a fact easily discernable from their respective social media profiles.

The journey to Chrinthania had been a remarkably simple one. Prime Minister Osman and Minister Hakimi had travelled to Margravia City (OOC: Doha) with their retinue and spent the night as guests of the Margraves. Darui was already in Margravia City as he now spent much more time there than Macau due to his relationship with Lysander, so the delegation were able to leave Margravia City at 10:30hrs on January 12th (Margravia time). Their transportation consisted of one customised Airbus A340-200 (Cairo One, the Prime Minister's official aircraft), and one customised Margravia Airways Airbus A330 for Lysander and Darui; their vehicles had already been flown to Chrinthania and would be waiting for them upon arrival. After a rather uneventful flight which featured a brief stopover in Macau, both aircraft touched down at Sydney Airport around 12:30hrs (Sydney time). Once the delegation had been officially greeted by Chrinthani representatives, they boarded their waiting vehicles and began the journey to their accommodation; Prime Minister Osman and Minister Hakimi in a black Lancia Thesis and their retinue in two more Lancias, while Lysander and Darui were in a gold Bentley Flying Spur with their own attendants following in a more generic black Range Rover HSE.

A well-appointed five-star hotel with an excellent view of the Sydney Opera House, the Park Hyatt was undoubtedly used to hosting wealthy guests and dignitaries who were visiting the Chrinthani capital for work, leisure, or both. Prime Minister Osman and Minister Hakimi entered first with their entourage and checked in with typical politeness, managing to reach the elevators and begin their ascent before the Margraves hit the lobby. Flanked by four black-suited members of the Margravian Emiri Guard and also accompanied by Topan, Lysander's long-time manservant and bodyguard, Lysander and Darui strode into the Park Hyatt arm-in-arm, dressed in matching black Armani suits. Upon reaching the front desk, Darui removed his Emporio Armani light green laser-cut shield sunglasses and smiled warmly at the receptionist.

"Darui Liao-Margrave, the reservation is for the Sydney Suite and two rooms, both rooms are twin beds with Opera view."

The smartly-uniformed receptionist quickly tapped away at the computer terminal before producing an envelope containing various keycards and placing it on the counter. "There you are sir, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that's all. Thank you very much." Darui collected the envelope and nodded appreciatively to the receptionist while Lysander produced a $100 bill from his jacket pocket and slid it across to the receptionist with a broad grin, before breaking arm contact with Darui to hand out similar tips to the porters who were passing with the party's luggage. Darui chuckled to himself as he watched Lysander march off, then turned his attention back to the receptionist and handed over yet another $100 bill before winking.

"Fresh flowers every day for the Sydney Suite if possible, red roses would be fantastic." He gave a thumbs-up to the bemused receptionist before donning his sunglasses once more and rejoining the rest of the Margrave contingent.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That evening, Prime Minister Osman and Minister Hakimi were being hosted by Lysander and Darui in the hotel's Sydney Suite. The 350-square-metre suite was the largest in the hotel, featuring two bedrooms, an outdoor terrace with panoramic views of the Sydney Opera House and harbour, a separate sitting area, a full kitchen with a dining table for eight, and a marble bath with sauna and spa tub. After dining, the four of them moved to the lounge area to discuss any specific objectives to pursue during the summit. Lysander and Darui reclined together on one of the pale brown sofas while Osman and Hakimi occupied the two armchairs opposite.

"So tell me Sheikh Lysander, what are the Emirates hoping for from this summit?"

Lysander grinned at Prime Minister Osman, who offered an inquisitive eyebrow in response. "Well Prime Minister, Khartoum will want to know if any smaller nations need an arms supplier, and they're also looking to acquire licenses from the bigger powers to manufacture 'previous generation materiel', as they call it. Ha'il, Abu Dhabi, and Margravia will be looking for investment opportunities to expand our respective portfolios. Muscat is looking at attracting general tourism. The other Emirates didn't seem that interested, either because of religious focus or a concern for what an influx of foreigners might do to their culture."

"I see. Mister Liao-Margrave, I take it that Macau is primarily interested in attracting additional tourism?"

Darui nodded. "That's correct Prime Minister, although we wouldn't refuse interest in our banking and other financial services. Primarily though, we'd like to see increased footfall in our casinos. If by some chance there is a potential for the Macau-Quanzhou Margraves to invest abroad then we won't turn that down either. What about the Caliphate, if I might ask? Is there anything that you're looking for?"

"Manufacturing contracts, refinery construction opportunities, things of that nature." Minister Hakimi leaned forward as he continued. "Sheikh Lysander, we may wish to call upon you to reinforce the fact that the regulations within the Caliphate's economy do not stand in the way of profitable business, rather they exist to ensure some level of social responsibility."

"Not a problem, Minister."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brightmore Palace
Sydney, Empire of Chrinthania
January 14, 2019

The Caliphal delegation arrived at Brightmore Palace in a slightly smaller motorcade than the one which had departed the airport the previous day; Prime Minister Osman and Minister Hakimi in their Lancia Thesis, one additional Lancia ferrying their security detail, and then Lysander and Darui's gold Bentley. As Chrinthania was seen as a safe nation and they would be dining at one of the most secure sites in the nation, there was no need for the entirety of the delegation's security to accompany them on the short distance across the Chrinthani capital. Dining at a palace was almost second nature for the Caliphate's representatives, as Prime Minister Osman was a frequent visitor to Caliph Khalil's palace in Cairo while all Caliphal government ministers knew royal protocol as part of their position; the Margraves, on the other hand, actually resided in their own palace in Margravia City.

As the vehicles came to a rest outside the main entrance to Brightmore Palace, the invited dinner guests of Emperor Nathaniel exited. Prime Minister Osman and Minister Hakimi were dressed in similar fashion, smart black suits with black neckties. Although bald, Osman took great pride in his facial hair and therefore boasted a well-trimmed thin goatee beard-and-mustache, while Hakimi was clean-shaven with his black hair slicked into what could best be described as a 'bureaucratic' style. The two Margraves also presented a united front, albeit a far more stylish one. Lysander and Darui were dressed in matching Valentino-tailored black suits with black bow ties, Lysander with his shoulder-length black locks styled to frame his features while Darui's normally tousled-looking short black hair was now in a stylish left parting. As their vehicles pulled away to park up and make room for the next set of arrivals at the palace, the Caliphal delegation began to head inside Brightmore, Osman and Hakimi accompanied by a lone black-suited security officer while Lysander and Darui were accompanied by the smartly-dressed Topan, who had been born in Chrinthania and rather enjoyed the prospect of visiting the imperial residence.

by **Saint-Laurent** » Sun Jan 13, 2019 6:25 pm

• • • † • • •

Thursday, 10^th January 2019 | 13:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Saint-Artois, Saint-Laurent | Palais national
18° 32' 35" N, 72° 20' 19" W

Président Mandel Dubois was sitting at his desk, his chair reclined, his legs crossed so that his ankle rested on his knee. In one hand was his phone and in the other was a gold-plated fountain pen that he moved smoothly between his fingers, down and then back to the top and down again, perpetually. He was listening in on a call between several of the country's sénateurs, having been asked to mediate between the two sides in hopes of gaining the middle ground for a spending increase for the Gendarmerie nationale. The call was nearly over and he couldn't wait, the pressure in his bladder growing with each passing second. When it finally did end, he moved quickly to the bathroom and with relief, back out to his desk where the phone was ringing. "Mister Président," it was his secretary, a beautiful and young mulatto girl named Marilise. "I have Vice-Président Parizeau for you."

"Great, send him in," Dubois answered. Moments later, Vice-Président Hugh Parizeau entered and the two men shook hands. Parizeau's French was considered "gutter French" by the more aristocrats like Dubois but that certainly didn't impede their ability to have a conversation. "Come in Hugh, sit down, please, coffee?"

"Please," Parizeau said and when they both had coffee and were seated on a pair of sofas, their meeting began though it started with Dubois asking when Parizeau would depart. "Twenty-two hundred this evening."

"Long flight over to Sydney."

"It's twenty-four hours with the stopover in Honolulu but altogether we're changing forty hours. I don't know if I'll be up or down when we land."

Here Dubois laughed, "All the more reason for your arrival two days prior. It's going to take two days just to acclimate. Tell me what does Amorette think of this trip?"

"She's ecstatic. She's never been to Australia before, not that I have."

"I surmise she'll be doing a fair bit of shopping. Amorette is accustomed to shiny things, is she not?"

"That she is," Parizeau answered. He was forty and his wife was four years his junior and from one of the wealthier, aristocratic families. Marriage was how Hugh Parizeau worked his way into Saint-Laurent's political class and together they had one son, a five-year old who was already being groomed for good things. Saint-Laurent's aristocracy hadn't changed much since the first Yorkists established the country five hundred years earlier. Amorette, a stunning woman, was looking forward to Sydney's shopping district as well as its spas and the exclusivity of their accommodations, which was to be the Meriton Suites World Tower Sydney where their three-bedroom penthouse occupied the seventy-sixth and the seventy-seventh floors. The hotel accommodations for the delegation and the flight crew alone had run nearly ¢35,000 for the six-day visit. In all there were eight rooms at the Meriton Suites by the airport and four rooms in the World Tower, two of which were penthouse suites.

"This is a good opportunity for our republic," Dubois said, "which is why I want you there along with Gagné." Christian Gagné was the current Minister of Economy and Finance and the opportunity was a four-day summit in Sydney, which was expected to be attended by leaders from all nations of the world. Saint-Laurent might have been a small nation, compared to the others, but it was no less important insofar as Dubois saw it. "We're stable as it stands, we're sufficient as it stands, and our nation retains its independence. Yet our linchpin is tourism. Our nation has come a long way from the last century but we are beholden to the tourist industry and look what internal conflict that has caused us."

Dubois was referring to the very traditional society that was Saint-Laurent. Since tourism had taken root in the country, it had influenced Saint-Laurentian culture and the youth were growing at odds with the traditional ways. There was something of a clash of civilizations coming to Saint-Laurent and it was more a clash of generations, the younger ones influenced by foreign culture through television, the Internet, and tourism. It was why the tourist-friendly and tourism-centric areas of Saint-Laurent were - in many ways both literal and figurative - kept distant and isolated from Saint-Laurent proper. Tourists found their way to Saint-Artois, to the parks and the waterfalls, to beaches that the native Saint-Laurentian populace used, and so on and so forth. The values and morals of the traditional culture clashed almost immediately with those of the rest of the world.

"Yes I would agree," Parizeau said, "and this opportunity presents our nation with much. I don't want to walk us down the path of dependence or dare insinuate that we would become a vassal of a larger state."

"Good and keep an eye on Gagné. You know that sometimes he can do things unconventionally without necessarily thinking of the long-term consequences. I've arranged it so that Ambassador Villareal will be present with you to act as a buffer, lest Gagné commit us to something that we do not want." Gagné, like Dubois, like Parizeau, was part of the elite, political aristocracy of Saint-Laurent - all the politicians were - but he often forgot that the aristocracy was heavily outnumbered. He liked to thumb his nose at the rest of the country and that wasn't the most productive attitude to have. His first wife had divorced him - quite a scandal - eleven years into their marriage because she was simply fed up with his ways, citing irreconcilable differences. His second wife, Talia, was a year younger than he was and of Hispanic descent, a further scandal considering that the country's aristocracy was heavily Francocentric. How she fit into the picture clashed hard with his ways but she was of a similar personality, her family being an older aristocratic family from the days because the 18th century.

"Who will be providing assistance to Gagné?"

"Ah yes, another arrangement of mine. Do you recall Laurent Croquetaigne?"

"Yes I do."

"Good then you'll understand why he's accompanying Gagné."

"Yes I will. Remarkable enough that Laurent can tolerate Gagné and vice-versa."

"Well yes and no," Dubois said as he shook his hand in the air for emphasis. "Gagné doesn't have an issue with the Africans, he just has an issue with the poor and the middle classes. Laurent is from a good family with the means to have sent him abroad for his economics degree."

"So that is it then."

"That is it."

"Well then, anything more you'd like to inform me of?"

"No, let me know when you land and we'll have the embassy run you some paperwork. Everyone is cleared. You'll be a delegation of twelve, including the wives. Security is cleared to carry their pistols but there's absolutely no concern. Sydney is probably safer than Saint-Artois is. The flight crew will be eight but they're separate. There is the stopover in Honolulu for two hours but that will be late morning. You'll refuel, the aircraft will get a bit of service, and you'll be on your way to Sydney."

"Thank you then Mandel."

"You're welcome," the two men stood and shook hands. Parizeau left and went home to finish his packing. His wife had done most of the packing already, having been advised what she could bring. Had it been up to her, she would have brought a different outfit for every hour of the trip but they had to pack light. The trip to Sydney required a stopover in Honolulu because their jet simply didn't have the range to get to Sydney non-stop as few jets did, especially from the Caribbean. Rather than charter an expensive jet, the delegation would stopover in Honolulu for refueling and servicing. It simply made sense this way. Of course, to ensure they got the full range, everyone would be limited on what they could bring. It was still far more than had they flown commercial but Amorette Parizeau had to limit herself to only a few suitcases rather than ten.

• • • • ‡ • • • •

Thursday, 10^th January 2019 | 21:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Saint-Artois, Saint-Laurent | Saint-Artois International Airport
18° 38' 26" N, 72° 18' 22" W

Saint-Artois International Airport was quite small by international standards, occupying just shy of twelve hundred hectares across two areas on either side of a major highway. The larger piece, with the airport's three runways was nine hundred and twenty hectares while the other was for parking and additional support vehicles and equipment, measuring two hundred and seventy hectares. The airport was in the capital's northwestern quadrant along the Saint-Artois Bay. The setup of the airport included one, large terminal with one hundred and fifteen available gates. A few hardstands were set up as well to handle smaller, propeller-based aircraft that were too small for the terminal gangways. Buses handled transportation to and from those hardstands. Inside of the terminal, passengers could use a number of moving walkways and even an internal tram system to get from one end to the other quickly.

Yet on this evening, Parizeau and the rest of the delegation had not been brought to the main terminal but rather a special, VIP terminal. Situated in the southern corner of the airport, the terminal was rather small and it serviced only a small section of the tarmac, which was reserved for corporate jets and Saint-Laurent's official transport plane, a Boeing BBJ 3, which itself was a highly customized version of the Boeing 737-900ER. That aircraft had been delivered in 2011, replacing the previous state transport, a customized Boeing 707-320B, which had been in use since the 1960s. The replacement was long needed and the BBJ 3 had made for a respectable replacement.

The aircraft was modified to carry nineteen passengers, including two VIPs. Starting in the rear of the aircraft, there was the master suite, which included a queen-sized bed and a private lavatory with a stall shower. Forward of this was a smaller suite with two twin-sized beds that could be pushed together to form a full-sized bed. Like the master suite it had a private lavatory but without the shower. Forward of this was a small office for both or one VIP to work in, complete with a door for privacy. Further forward as a five-person conference area complete with a bulkhead mounted television and a table. The chairs were able to swivel and be extended to allow passengers to sleep comfortably. Then there was the main seating area which came with two love seats in an "L" configuration along the bulkhead to the conference area. On the starboard side of the aircraft were six chairs, two facing one another and four facing each other with another conference table. A table could be pulled out of the wall between the two chairs. On the port side there was another two-chair configuration. All of these chairs could swivel and extend to become sleeping beds for passengers. There was another lavatory forward of this and the crew area. The crew area included the galley, additional storage, a crew rest area with a bunk bed, a dedicated lavatory, and, naturally, the cockpit at the front of the plane.

All told, the government if Saint-Laurent paid $115 million for the plane, a steal considering how well furnished and comfortable it was. Flown by the very best and qualified pilots in the air force, the BBJ 3 was the premier way to travel for a nation like Saint-Laurent, where a bigger 747 or A340 was simply overkill. With a range of nearly 10,000 kilometers, the plane had enough range to get mostly anywhere it needed to be and if it couldn't get there, it could stopover somewhere and refuel, which was what was happening for the trip to Sydney. It would be eleven and a half hours to Honolulu and then an hour less to Sydney. The stopover was necessary because the straight-line distance was almost fifty percent further than the BBJ 3 could fly.

In the VIP terminal, the twelve passengers had already committed their main luggage to the baggage handlers and true to her reputation, Amorette Parizeau maxed out her weight limit on multiple suitcases with outfits for this, outfits for that, and backups just in case she didn't want to wear what she'd chosen. For the return flight, she had allotted enough weight that she could bring back quite a bit from her intended shopping sprees. Everyone kept only a duffle bag with them for what they would need onboard. Their luggage would go with them to the hotel where they would be able to use proper showers and have proper bedding, at least for six days before they'd get back into the BBJ 3 and head home, via Honolulu yet again.

It was around 21:00 when Colonel Bayard Pépin entered the seating area. He was dressed not in the typical flight suit of a military pilot but rather in the uniform of a commercial pilot, except adorned with the insignia of the Armée de l'Air Saint-Laurent (AASL). "Good evening, good evening," he said as he faced the passengers. "For our flight to Honolulu, I shall be your pilot and my colleague, Lieutenant-Colonel Cenobio Salas Armas will be assisting me as the second crew pilot. Due to regulations, I can only get us to Hawaii but not further. So we will be flying with a double crew this evening, four pilots and four stewardesses. I'll be sure to introduce everyone when we board the plane." The military of Saint-Laurent was not necessarily male-only but women could not serve in uniformed roles. Instead, they had to take positions within the Ministry of Defense. Being a stewardess for the VIP squadron was the only exception and so the qualifications and the competition were astronomically high. "Before we board, does anyone have any questions?"

"What time will we be landing in Honolulu and is there any time to leave the airport?" Amorette asked.

"Well I am afraid we won't be landing at a 'reasonable' hour. Our arrival is approximately 04:30 tomorrow morning and we will be on the ground for only two hours. I would strongly recommend everyone deplane however since we will be fueling and servicing the aircraft during the stopover. It will also be good to stretch your legs around the terminal. I believe there will be a breakfast prepared for you all but I do not recommend leaving the airport. It will simply be too early to enjoy the city and two hours is not much time."

"What about the return flight?"

"Just as inconvenient ma'am. We will be landing at around 22:30 and again, only for two hours." This displeased Amorette but she didn't necessarily show it beyond her one tell, which was that she twitched her nose twice upward, scrunching her makeup-caked face each time. Most of the passengers for this flight had dressed down in a business casual attire, still looking professional but far more comfortably than if they were wearing suits and other business attire. Amorette on the other hand was fully dressed with a Gucci jumpsuit and her very expensive, black stiletto heels that would make getting onto and walking around the plane a bit of an adventure but this was how she dressed when she wanted to sit on the couch, let alone fly aboard a private jet. It was her way of exerting her place in Saint-Laurent's society and it was her way of impressing upon the other passengers that her status in the aristocracy was higher than theirs was, which included Gagné.

"Right if there are no other questions, please follow me and we'll board the aircraft." The door to the outside was opened and Pépin led the passengers out and on a short walk to the aircraft where stairs were set up against the aircraft's main, cabin door. He stood at the bottom while everyone boarded, helping Amorette get her first step onto the metal stairs. Her husband would be carrying her heavy duffel bag onto the aircraft for her so that she could carry her purse and ensure she held onto the railing. Once the last person was aboard, he climbed the stairs himself and set up introductions.

He would be flying with Commandant Fletcher Bonami for the first leg while Armas and Lieutenant-Colonel Alvaro Gallegos Barragán flew the second leg. The lead stewardess was Ivonne Segura Correa and she would be assisted by Harriette Houde for the first leg. For the second leg, Jewel Collin and Jeanne Guilmette would take over for the needs of the passengers. For the boarding however, the entire crew was working and the four stewardesses showed everyone to their seats. Amorette took a once over of the accommodations, finding her own to be sufficient for her needs but not what she'd expected. In contrast, her husband found them quite luxurious, especially when he saw the shower in the lavatory. "I plan to make good use of that," he said upon seeing it. His wife gave a look and shook her head.

"I shall not be, who knows who's been in there."

"The Président my dear."

"Yes well, you know what I think of him."

"Yes I do but you do realize they do clean it."

"I'll be fine."

"Suit yourself," he said as he flicked off the lights and took his seat for takeoff. Everyone had a seat for takeoff, such was a safety requirement. Bags were stowed, beverages were served, and amenities brought out to those who requested them. This included pillows and blankets, slippers, blindfolds, earplugs, and anything else someone might need to get comfortable on a nearly twelve-hour flight across the Pacific Ocean.

The BBJ 3 was pushed back just shy of 21:40 and over the next twenty minutes, it made its way from engine startup to the taxiway and out to the runway. At 22:00 precisely, the aircraft was given clearance for takeoff and Colonel Pépin and his first officer pushed the throttles on the two engines to takeoff power and released the brakes. The aircraft moved slowly at first but then built up more and more speed, barreling down the runway to its rotation speed of 150 knots. Pépin eased back on the stick and brought the nose of the aircraft off of the ground. At 153 knots, the rear wheels left the ground and the aircraft was officially airborne. Easing up gently to keep the ride smooth, Pépin brought the aircraft speed up, raised the landing gear, and eased off on the flaps as he climbed over Saint-Artois Bay. There was some turbulence as they climbed through low and medium altitude up to a cruising altitude of 10,675 meters. As the aircraft grew lighter, they would gain almost 2,000 meters in more altitude, gradually rising as they zipped through the night sky at Mach 0.785 or 450 knots.

Once at altitude, the refresher crew retired to their designated rest stations. The two pilots found their way to the bunk beds, being required by law to sleep for a certain amount of hours before they could fly. The two stewardesses would have to bunk down in side-by-side beds - complete with privacy curtains - just underneath the main deck, which was accessible only by a step of stairs just outside of the galley. The beds were small with little room but they did the trick and there were enough beds for all four crew members, which was all that they really needed.

• • • • ‡ • • • •

Friday, 11^th January 2019 | 04:55 hrs [UTC-10]
Honolulu, Hawaii, America | Honolulu International Airport
21° 19' 54" N, 157° 55' 16" W

Twenty-five minutes after the BBJ 3 touched down at Honolulu, the shuttle bus arrived in front of the main terminal. The aircraft would be on the ground until 06:30 and in that time, its twelve passengers were bussed away from the plane in its remote parking spot to the main terminal so that they could stretch their legs and get off of the plane they'd been on for nearly twelve hours now. To say that everyone was groggy was to put it lightly. Even on an aircraft as comfortable as the BBJ 3 was, sleeping was difficult, especially for the passengers who didn't have an actual bed. They stretched out on seats that reclined and transformed into beds but they were still chairs when push came to shove and even though the cabin attendants kept the noise to a minimum, they were unable to work in total silence and so most of the people slept poorly and inadequately, especially Aubine Charette, who was Amorette's assistant.

Aubine had slept a total of ninety-five minutes and off and on so that when the aircraft landed, she was truly a zombie. The pretty twenty-eight year old was one of the last off the plane and she nearly missed a step on the stairs owing to her exhaustion. On the bus ride to the terminal, she found herself dozing, the gently rocking of the bus putting her into that state. She had to be gently woken by Millicent Sacré, who was Talia's assistant when they arrived at the airport terminal. There, the passengers entered wearily. Everyone had changed into fresh clothes for the arrival, Amorette choosing a specific outfit she'd brought, her husband having showered. They would try to get some additional sleep en route to Sydney but not too much for their arrival was 14:00 local time, which meant they'd have to try to stay awake until nighttime to shock their bodies onto the time zone. Thanks to summer time, Sydney was presently twenty-one hours ahead of Honolulu and sixteen ahead of Saint-Laurent.

Inside of the airport, the passengers were escorted into a special lounge area that the government of Saint-Laurent had rented out for this occasion. It would give the passengers a sit-down breakfast and use of private facilities, should they want those. Breakfast was hearty and filling but owing to their varying states of exhaustion, not all of the meals would get eaten. Aubine alone had trouble getting down anything but coffee, though she was famished. A few bites here and a few bites there was all she could muster. For the Vice-Président, the long trip was atypical of any that he'd taken so he too was feeling it just like everyone else though the shower had refreshed him a little. Everyone attempted to maintain their professional appearance and charade but he could see that everyone was hurting some.

Breakfast would break up and the passengers would go their separate ways. Due to the hour, not much was open around the airport except for some small shops that stayed open around the clock and some fast food restaurants that did the same, which was wholly unacceptable to Amorette. Her counterpart, Talia, was much more reserved about the status of the airport, benefiting from being fifteen years older and thus more patient thanks to her age yet she too was disappointed by the utter desolation of the airport. When push came to shove, they were all too happy to board the bus back to the BBJ 3, where the flight crew was changing out and completing the servicing.

"How was everyone's breakfast?" Pépin asked with a smile as the groggy, weary faces of his passengers climbed aboard. Once everyone was on, he pulled Parizeau aside into the latter's office and said, "We have another ten and a half hours to Sydney. I would suggest no more than four hours of sleep for anyone. We'll be down there at 14:00 and the best way to conquer the jetlag is to last until late evening, sleep through the night, and get up tomorrow morning right on cue with everyone else."

"Thanks Colonel."

"No problem sir, I can see that everyone's hurting this morning. We'll be on our way shortly. I can say though it's easier going this way than it will be coming back. The gain of sixteen hours is going to throw everyone wild."

"Thanks," Parizeau laughed. The pilot left the office and Parizeau returned to his suite where Amorette was already changing into her pajamas, an expensive set that she'd bought just for this trip. "You know we have to take our regular seats for takeoff."

"I don't mind, I have a robe."

"All right," he shook his head, knowing his wife. Instead, he removed his sport coat and hung it up in the closet. "I'm going to go sit down and see if I can't have a brief conversation with Christian. Colonel Pépin advised no more than four hours sleep."

"Fine." She said, taking the advice but unhappy with it. Twenty minutes later, the engines were turning and the BBJ 3 was taxiing to the runway. It was aloft with Lieutenant-Colonel Aramas at the controls and Lieutenant Colonel Barragán as first officer. The climb out from Honolulu was smoother than from Saint-Artois and the fully fueled and freshly serviced BBJ 3 settled in at its initial cruising altitude and began its trip towards Sydney.

• • • • ‡ • • • •

Saturday, 12^th January 2019 | 03:00 hrs [UTC+12]
South Pacific Ocean | Near Tuvalu
6° 46' 26" S, 178° 24' 29" E

Roughly five hours had passed since the BBJ 3 had taken off from Honolulu and everyone was awake by now. More or less everyone had seized the opportunity for another four (or so) hours of shut eye but those hours had come and they had gone. Cruising now at 12,500 meters over the South Pacific, in the dead of night, the BBJ 3 was nothing more than a blinking dot in the sky and to look out of the windows at the frigid, thin air of the upper atmosphere was to see a thing of beauty. The BBJ 3 was high above the clouds and far from the pollution of the modern world. In the utter darkness of the night, the moon in its first quarter was like a shining beacon, clearer than ever before with so many stars. It was not as if the Saint-Laurentians did not see these levels of beauty, on the contrary, in some parts of Saint-Laurent the Milky Way was distinguishable on any clear night, it was just here over the South Pacific, they were truly far removed from home.

Another meal had been served, this one a sort of hybrid between breakfast and lunch but not necessarily a specific "brunch" meal. Coffee had been made by the liter and everyone had a tall mug in front of or near them. To stave off dehydration from the cabin pressure and the coffee, there were bottles of cool water everywhere, some opened, some not. The wives and their assistances had moved to the forward seating area, claiming the couches so that they could go over their itineraries. The security officers were seated at the table forward and to their right, playing cards and chatting up a storm, which left only the principals and their aides, who had taken to the conference area where they were getting work done.

There, Vice-Président Parizeau had taken the seat at the head of the table. A television in front of him along the bulkhead showed the aircraft's position and the time in four different time zones: Saint-Laurent, Honolulu, local, and their destination. His aide was to his right, the minister to his left, and the minister's aide next to him, the furthest from Parizeau. They'd only just sat down a few minutes earlier after finishing a meal and getting themselves acquainted with their varying states of sleepiness. "This trip is costing over a million couronnes so the Sénat is going to want results," he said. "We know there will be a lot of opportunities and a lot of opportunity for investment by foreign powers, so long as they don't attach conditions and riders. Saint-Laurent shall not be beholden to a foreign power, so I'd like some ideas."

"Well Mister Vice-Président, there is an idea that has been floated before but it hasn't gained much traction with prior administrations. Perhaps it is something this administration would be open and receptive to, I know my predecessor and his predecessor proposed it."

"Well I'm all ears then."

"International finance," Gagné said. "Saint-Laurent could easily become a major financial hub for international finance and banking. We could easily become one of the biggest banking centers in the world with some encouragement. Our existing tax laws disallow corporate and income tax on money earned outside of our territories. Saint-Laurent has few international corporations so this isn't much of an issue to us and any domestic corporation that attempts to subvert our laws would find themselves up to their earlobes in legal red tape.

"International corporations however don't follow the same rules. Sure they would have to pay taxes on money earned within our borders and on real estate and services but this is a pittance to what they would pay if we taxed their income. We would charge an annual licensing fee directly proportional to their authorized share capital, which would allow them to do business and give us, in essence, a tax revenue from their business.

"The Margraves had turned Macau into a major financial center in the Far East and they can easily do that with Saint Lucia but we can beat them to the punch or at least put up a significant wall of competition. The Margraves might own more wealth than our entire nation and they do own Blacksail Bay. They're invested in Saint-Laurent probably more so than most foreign entities but what is a little competition among partners?" He flashed a grin.

"You're proposing that we advertise Saint-Laurent as a tax haven, specifically inviting such entities?"

"I am and with our current privacy laws we would need little to no modifications and what was needed could be easily passed in the Sénat. This would encourage further investment in our nation and give us access to resources at discounted rates simply as a quid pro quo situation."

"It's certainly an idea," Parizeau answered, "but I don't know that we have that level of authority at this summit."

"We don't have the authority of the Sénat but we are representing the nation of Saint-Laurent, which means that we do have the authority to begin those discussions."

"I'm going to clear it with our Président first, if it's all the same."

"I would love to know his opinion," Gagné answered with a smile, unsure whether or not Président Mandel would be receptive to the idea. Saint-Laurent, didn't have the most to offer. The tourism industry was the linchpin but Saint-Laurent wasn't going to cut down its forests for resources nor pollute its waters for industry. There was only so much that Saint-Laurent would offer and could offer without ruining the entirety of the nation but where it could, it would.

• • • • ‡ • • • •

Saturday, 12^th January 2019 | 14:00 hrs [UTC+11]
Sydney, Chrinthania | Sydney International Airport
33° 56' 25" S, 151° 10' 31" E

With a gentle thump, the rear wheels of the BBJ 3 touched down in Sydney. It was the culmination of twenty-four hours and 17,000 kilometers of flying and it was much to the relief of all twelve passengers on board, as well as the eight-person flight crew who yearned to get out of their uniforms and into more comfortable clothing. It wasn't necessarily that the uniforms were uncomfortable however but they were uniforms nonetheless. At the controls of the plane, Lieutenant-Colonel Armas handed over the job of taxiing the aircraft to Barragán while he went about the checklist for post-landing. Everything about flying was checklists and they were important to do, regardless of how many times they'd been done before. He also pulled out a map of the airport and directed Barragán where to turn so that they could navigate the airport. Neither of them had ever been to Sydney before and so, like all airports, they'd have to use a map to get around it.

Luckily for them, they didn't have to pull into a gate. Instead, because the aircraft was going to be sitting for a week, they'd be positioned at a hardstand on the far side of the airport. As other delegations arrived, that area would grow rather crowded but for now, it would be empty except for the convoy of SUVs that the embassy had sent to ensure all twelve passengers, and their luggage, got to the Meriton hotel. Outside of the cockpit, all four cabin attendants and the initial flight crew were going about their own checklists, ensuring that everything was clean, neat, and orderly so that they too could deplane and head to their own hotels. They were all staying in the Meriton at the airport, which would make it far easier for them to get to the plan in a hurry, if the need arose, which was highly unlikely, to say the least.

At the hardstand, the BBJ 3 powered down for the first time in over twenty-four hours. Security officers from the embassy awaited outside, more so to liaise with the security officers who were getting off of the flight and the flight crew to ensure that they were always in contact. Embassy security personnel would have the BBJ 3 under constant surveillance to ensure no one snuck aboard who wasn't authorized whether to sabotage it or to plant eavesdropping equipment. Six days on the ground was a long time for the aircraft and some maintenance would be conducted but only by qualified - and more importantly - cleared individuals, who would always be working under the careful supervision of the embassy's security personnel. The BBJ 3 was an aircraft used by the head of state and government and so no chances could be taken.

By the time the passengers had debarked and the embassy vehicles departed, all who were left was the eight-person flight crew and the first two security officers, both of whom had retreated outside of the aircraft. In the cabin, Pépin beckoned everyone to be seated. The fifty-nine-year-old colonel with the AASL stood in the forward cabin with everyone seated and attentive. "This is our first time to Chrinthania and it's not like we haven't been to foreign countries before so I'll make this quick. We're here for six days and despite the fact that we do not have anything to do until we takeoff on Friday, I want to make sure everyone knows the stakes. These summits can get heated and all we need is the wrong word to be said and our Vice-Président could opt to depart early. I've seen it happen with other summits and other national leaders.

"That means everyone's cell phone stays on and on loud too. If we have to issue a recall then you will be required to drop everything you're doing and rush back here. If you're not here when our departure window comes, you will be left here and without a job when you return, it's that simple and those are the rules of the AASL. Otherwise, please enjoy Sydney, enjoy the country, have fun. It's unlikely we'll be coming back here so get it in while you can. It is, in a way, a vacation for us all but keep in mind we are both representatives of La République de Saint-Laurent and that we're 'on the clock.'

"That means you will behave and act professionally at all times. Also remember that just because it is legal here, it is not necessarily legal at home. Think twice before you do anything potentially dangerous. You don't want to lose your job because of something that happened here. With that, have fun and let's go catch the shuttle out of here." He finished and they all grabbed their luggage and departed the plane, leaving it in the hands of the security officers for the next six days.

A bus was waiting for them outside of the plane, which would bring them right over to the hotel. It would be a quick and an easy journey for them. The two younger stewardesses, Harriette and Jeanne were both in their late 20s and so they couldn't wait to hit the town. For Colonel Pépin however, this was the longest visit he'd get to experience and furthermore, the longest amount of time he would be separated from his wife and children. Bonami asked if he would be "living it up" and Pépin only smiled, answering, "I'm going to do what every man of my age does when he has six days away from his wife and his kids. I'm going to find a quiet spot by a pool or on a beach, open one of these two books that I brought, and I am going to read peacefully, without interruptions, for the first time in over twenty-five years."

• • • • ‡ • • • •

Saturday, 12^th January 2019 | 15:25 hrs [UTC+11]
Sydney, Chrinthania | Meriton Suites World Tower Sydney
33° 52' 35" S, 151° 12' 24" E

Amorette Parizeau shut the doors to the bedroom and looked to the closet. "This will do just fine," she said with satisfaction. Four rooms had been rented in the name of the government of Saint-Laurent, two being Icon Penthouse Suites and two being Darling Suites. Each of the former had a rather luxurious layout measuring 200 m² across two levels. They were also situated on the highest floors of the hotel, which was the seventy-sixth and the seventy-seventh floors. Both of the ones occupied by the delegation were on the seventy-seventh floor. The two Darling Suites, each of which featured two bedrooms, were position one floor lower. Since it was policy that each person should have his or her own bedroom, the four suites were ideal. The two penthouse suites offered sleeping arrangements for all four principals and the four security officers while the two other suites allowed the two male and the two female aides and assistants to stay.

All four rooms offered a full kitchen with laundry services, amazing views of Sydney, private bathrooms, and separate living, dining, and sleeping areas. They were mini apartments and quite comfortable for the six days that the delegation would be in the city. For everyone's enjoyment, the rooms came with Nepresso machines, which found their first uses before the hour was done.

"One million couronnes dear," Parizeau said to his wife as she unpacked her multiple suitcases, hanging up her outfits in a specific order. Shoes went on the bottom of the closet hanging underneath their specific outfit. "That's what this whole trip is costing. Well over a million."

"The country can afford it."

"Yes it can but just imagine that sum."

"It's certainly easy to do dear," she answered, "my father's business clears that in a week."

"Yes well your father's business isn't the country's purse."

"Now do try to listen," she said as she came over and sat down on the bed next to him. "You married into our class so I understand when that is a lot of money to you but you are married into our class and so you need to act like it. One million couronnes is a pittance right now. This summit will net our country billions if we play our cards right and who will share in those profits more than anyone?"

"Yes, yes," Parizeau answered.

"Now there is a pool in this hotel, is there not?"

"Yes there is with a spa."

"Well I am going to shower and take a swim. I brought that very nice bathing suit you like with the ties on the side and the back. If you play your cards right I'll let you take it off of me a little later." She gave him a kiss on the lips and finished putting away her clothes. He retired to the living room area where he had his first coffee from the Nespresso machine. The Saint-Laurentian delegation was in Sydney and if they could last until the evening, they would find themselves on the Chrinthani schedule and thus able to function far better.

• • • † • • •

by **Great Austrinia** » Wed Feb 20, 2019 3:29 pm

January 13th, 2019
Flight
Departure at 0:00 (Austrinian Time)
Arrival at 21:00 (Chrinthani time)

Emperor Constantine III Palaeologus leant back on his comfortable chair reviewing economic reports of Austrinia’s economy. He was aboard the American-imported Gulfstream G650, customized on the exterior as a tricolor of orange, white, and yellow, with the Austrinian flag design on the plane’s wings. He gladly accepted the invitation to the summit in the Empire of Chrinthania as trade was crucial to the Austrinian economy. Austrinia’s economy had been doing exceptionally well in the recent years. After mild stagnation and inflation in the 1990s, the 21st century brought great economic growth to Austrinia dubbed the "Austrinian Miracle." This took off even further in the 2010s to a current great era of prosperity. Soon, Austrinia became the largest producer and exporter of diamonds and gold in the entire world. However, Empire did not fall far behind on other raw materials or economic activities. The agricultural lifestyle of its rural population were hard at work, providing Austrinia with fresh organic produce and agricultural self sufficiency. Even more spectacular was its domestic construction industry that produced the world’s finest architects and construction engineers. However, this economic activity could not be sustained without cooperation from its key economic partners, especially in its lacking fields. Trade with its biggest trading partners, including Rome, New Albion, Valendia, and the Caliphate, among other smaller partners, played a large role in the recent Austrinian economic boom. The Emperor’s only intention was to uphold this time of great economic growth and continue maintaining its relationship with its largest trading partners. He was, however, quite bound on reducing protectionist trade restrictions under pressure of his finance minister.

There was an ominous feel given the Emperor was flying to a country where trade between the two powers was non-existent from a mutual embargo. Austrinia was also among a unique government type that occasionally brought up mixed feelings by the foreign world. The rest of the world adopted Republican systems of governance, and those who kept a monarch had demoted their status as merely ceremonial. Austrinia stood in stark contrast, remaining as the only Absolute Monarchy without any sort of elective franchise to its mass populace. However, the Emperor felt no shame or neglect as he accepted the heavily ingrained Austrinian concept of Divine Right. He believed to have been guided by the Heavens, and to be a ruler of absolute legitimacy so long as the population was happy and adherence to the Church was upheld.

Accompanying Emperor Constantine were five accompanying guests. Pius Mauricius, a highly educated and experienced economist at the age of 51 from Austrinia City, came as the minister of finance. He was born into wealth (old money), and is notable for advocating in reducing Austrinia’s corporate restrictions, trade tariffs, and economic oversight. However, critics raise the question of a potential rise in materialism or the recent environmental destruction that has occurred in areas of mining activity. Palaestrio Lunaris, a negro of 37 born in the ranching and “cowboy” culture of Upper Namibia, came along the trip for his role as Austrinia’s Grand Executive Officer. As the GEO, he is the head official of Austrinia’s corporatist system and is involved in keeping the economy in check from corporate greed and abuse. The other three included a pilot and security officials.

A few hours prior to the arrival, the Emperor changed into his Imperial dress. It was colored in reddish-orange, white, and gold, and was significantly large. Along with this, he wore his glittery gold crown with a few jewels. Mauricius warned the Emperor that this would be hurtful to Austrinia’s image, for it was not a backwards country, but a country open to entering the modern world without throwing away its tradition. The Emperor was less content, and insisted on preserving a long lost antiquity that the rest of the world seemed to have lost with waves of modernization and social changes.

January 14th, 2019
Sydney, Empire of Chrinthania

And so the Emperor endured the 15 hour long direct flight, spending his time reviewing economic reports with the occasional card game. Departing at 22:03 Thursday (local time), the plane arrived at the Sydney on 13:01 Friday in which it was 22:01 Friday at Sydney. The Emperor and his guests stepped out, and were greeted by Chrinthani representatives. They headed towards a shuttle, then hit the road to the Park Hyatt Hotel.

Park Hyatt Hotel was a spectacular sight, especially with its glow at night. The delegates were cheerful and optimistic towards their stay in Chrinthania, but the Emperor was indifferent. Nonetheless, he entered in with his full “Austrinian Hospitality” and politeness taught by Austrinian codes of Chivalry. He approached the uniformed receptionist.

“Hello, I am Constantine Palaeologus the 3rd and would like to access my reservations for two large rooms with three solo beds.”

The receptionist punched a few numbers into the Computer and handed over two envelopes filled with six keycards. “Here you go sir, is there anything else I may help you with?”

“I am good my honor, thank you ”

“Enjoy your stay...”

The Emperor picked up the two keys and headed over to the two large suites he reserved. As they headed towards their rooms, the delegates were instantly gratified with the great size and luxurious feel of their suites. The Emperor, however, felt in an expected cultural shock. The interior design of their hotel reservation stood in sharp contrast to the sort of interior design he was accommodated to at home. The extremely detailed, stylish, and complex design (influenced by victorian-gothic styles) in the interior of Austrinian buildings stood in sharp contrast to the more modern, simpler, and spacious design in the hotel room. The traces of consumerist culture he saw throughout the hotel were very strange, as such a concept was foreign to the typical Austrinian. He surely had felt as if he were on another planet, but was in no way surprised.

As they unpacked, they didn’t get too comfortable as they soon headed down for a late dinner at 23:27. However, such a late dinner was not too uncommon at home in Austrinia. As they ordered their meals, they began talking in Latin to discuss their plans for the summit. Palaestrio began the conversation:

“So, Gavriil, about the Summit. What do you make of this at the moment?”

“Well, from the Austrinian success, I believe we merely should continue business. Preserve and maintain our relationships with our friendly nations and allow our economy to continue on as usual” stated the Emperor in response.”

Pius had a slight frown on his face. “Your honor, do you not realize the great potential of this growth to slow down? This stuff doesn’t just last forever. We need a means of economic expansion into the future. How can this be achieved with a conservative economic attitude? We need new markets. We need expansion. I’ve been telling you this before. Don’t come into the conference and come out with nothing.”

“What do you propose?” The emperor replied.

“I’ve mentioned it before and will do so again. Why are you so content on-”

“Is this about the embargo? It has been settled that we are unlikely to lift the embargo on Chrinthania. I would repeal it with caution if possible, but I am sincerely doubtful of the Chrinthani to move a muscle. I have negotiated with them quite a bit, and they will not open up to us unless we reform our social order. That of which, I am absolutely unwilling to do.”

“And the others? We surely can fix up and improve our relations with Britain and Walmington.

“I do suppose we could try, we will all have to see how it plays down. I’ll keep your concerns in mind my good sir, but we will have to approach this trade summit with a mix of everything. Openness but with pragmatism and caution.”

“Fair enough my honor.”

Little discussed with Pius was the Emperor’s plans to argue for a gold standard. Within the government and public circles of Austrinia, there was great support for a commodity currency though practical considerations would make it difficult to implement in a fiat world - without changing the world to be commodity based. Thus, it has become much more of an Austrinian tradition to argue for a commodity standard at the annual trade conferences rather than a legitimate point of discussion.

The Austrinian delegation arrived at Brightmore Palace. While the delegates were in a typical suit and tie, the emperor entered with his full imperial robe. The Chrinthani headlines had interesting comments to make, but the Emperor did not care one bit. The Emperor’s accompanies expected him to feel strange in the palace the same way he had felt in the hotel room. It did not appear to resemble the Victorian-gothic styled Imperial Tower in Austrinia City. It was much simpler and evoked more Romanesque features. The Emperor did not seem to take notice or make any comments.

Inside, they were greeted and escorted to the Great Banquet room. Dining was a relatively enjoyable experience for the delegates, in spite of the cultural shocks in such a vastly different culture and environment. The Emperor himself had been surprised at how well-organized and splendid the dinner was, especially given their negative stereotypes in Austrinia.

The Emperor was looking forward for a good conference at the summit.

by **Nuova Lombardia** » Wed Mar 06, 2019 1:27 pm

The Langham Hotel
Sydney, Empire of Chrinthania
19:00hrs Local Time, January 13, 2019

While the Kingdom of Nuova Lombardia was not normally one for international conferences and the like, the Central American nation had elected to send a delegation to the summit in the Empire of Chrinthania due to the wishes of the youthful King Fiorenzo II. The twenty-three year old monarch had expressed an interest in seeing the kingdom represented at the summit in order to seek out potential deals and the like that might not be readily available in regular bilateral diplomacy, as there may be some attending nations who would not normally engage with Nuova Lombardia in a meaningful manner. Fiorenzo also saw the summit as a potential venue to further express the kingdom's disdain towards the Roman campaign in Madagascar, referred to by the Lombardians as an 'invasion' due to their historical issues with the Roman Republic which stemmed from Nuova Lombardia's colonial past. The monarch's interest in the Chrinthani summit did not mean that he would actually be attending in person, however. The current head of the House of Sforza-Riario saw no point in personally travelling to the Empire of Chrinthania for the possibility of doing deals with other nations as he would much rather travel in order to finalise an already-agreed deal, so instead the Kingdom of Nuova Lombardia would be represented by his Lord Chancellor, the sixty-seven year old Aurelio Pazzi. With styled gray hair and a neat gray beard and moustache, Aurelio had served Fiorenzo's father as Lord Chancellor and had decades of experience in the role of the monarch's closest advisor; as the Lord Chancellor was appointed and authorized to make decisions on behalf of the monarch, Aurelio was the perfect individual to dispatch to Chrinthania. A firm believer in the old Lombardian adage that "the Sforza rule and the Pazzi manage", Aurelio saw it as his duty to serve and he found Fiorenzo to be the easiest king to serve thus far in his career.

The Lombardian delegation was not a large one by any means. Aurelio was an experienced negotiator and possessed an excellent working knowledge of the kingdom's economic strengths so he would not require many assistants, secretaries, or the like. In fact, aside from three bodyguards the only other two members of the Lombardian delegation were Aurelio's thirty-eight year old personal secretary Isabella Milanesi and his fifty-four year old brother Cosimo. The raven-haired Isabella had a reputation for no-nonsense efficiency and many of the Lombardian nobility rumoured that she was sleeping with her employer, a fact that was definitively known by Cosimo and King Fiorenzo. King Fiorenzo found it highly entertaining and occasionally teased Aurelio over it in a friendly manner, while Cosimo held a certain level of respect towards his brother for having a lover who was twenty-nine years his juniour. Cosimo possessed a more severely-cut hairstyle than his older brother and wore his gray beard without a moustache; as the more down-to-earth of the two Pazzi brothers, Cosimo handled issues that Aurelio did not want to be personally involved in, such as arms dealing and negotiations with 'less-than-savoury types'. His role at the summit would be to try to negotiate military contracts and the like, not that Nuova Lombardia was in immediate need of new military equipment but it couldn't hurt to enquire if any of the world's major arms producers happened to be in attendance. The small delegation departed the Lombardian capital of Nuova Milano (OOC: RL Guatemala City) in a Gulfstream G650ER business jet, an example of the typical attitude of the House of Sforza-Riario as they saw no reason to send the delegation in an aircraft that could be seen as 'oversized' considering the number of delegates. The journey had been a long one to be sure with a stopover in Hawaii, although this had given Aurelio and Cosimo plenty of time to sleep before their final arrival at Sydney Airport. After an official welcome to the Empire by a Chrinthani delegation, the Lombardian delegation located their transportation which had been provided by the small Lombardian embassy in the Chrinthani capital. Two black SUVs ferried the six-strong delegation to their booked accommodation at the five-star Langham Hotel, an indulgence allowed to them by King Fiorenzo primarily because he felt they deserved more comfortable accommodation than the available arrangements at the embassy; they were flying quite a distance and playing nice with other nations on his behalf after all, and it wasn't as if the kingdom had just paid to fly a large airliner across the Pacific.

After a brief and exceptionally polite exchange with the receptionist who provided the party with the keys to their rooms, the Lombardian delegation began to settle in. The three bodyguards had been assigned to a 'deluxe room' which had been provided with an extra bed to accommodate them all, while Aurelio and Cosimo each had their own 'executive room' with the obvious situation arising of Isabella sharing with Aurelio, much to Cosimo's amusement. That evening, the two brothers met in Aurelio's executive room to discuss their monarch's instructions and how best to carry them out. Occupying matching armchairs next to one another, Aurelio sipped at a glass of iced water with a slice of lime while Cosimo drank from a bottle of Chrinthani beer.

"So what exactly does His Majesty want from this summit, brother? Is it just trade?"

Aurelio wagged his finger at Cosimo's question. "Of course not, His Majesty sees this summit as an opportunity to push a certain agenda while also seeking out potential trade deals and diplomatic contacts. This Roman invasion of Madagascar is viewed by His Majesty as a way for us to put ourselves on the map once again, by expressing our opposition to it on the grounds of 'not interfering in the affairs of other sovereign nations' and so on. Admittedly there's not a great deal more that we can do about it other than object at the moment but at least we'll be making our voice heard. Now, while I'm handling the diplomatic niceties and frivolities with regard to trade deals on our agricultural produce and our tourist potential, you will be seeking out potential arms deals. It's what you're best at, well aside from certain other things."

Cosimo grinned. "Understood. Speaking of agricultural produce, I had a thought on the way over. Actually it might have been more of a dream than a thought, but it was still a good one. Have you considered talking to the Chrinthani about marijuana? It's legal here, we have land which would be perfect for its cultivation. If His Majesty legalised the cultivation then we could potentially sell it to the Chrinthani, all nice and above board."

"It's...an idea, I'll give you that. I think that we might find it easier to do more traditional business with the likes of Saint-Laurent and Australisia but the possibility could be raised with the Chrinthani. Whether they'd actually be interested is another thing entirely. There is also a potential concern that it could offend the more traditional nations in attendance and make them less likely to improve their trade relationship with us if they see us exporting narcotics. Oh, now remember, no bribery. Not here at least, if you get the ball rolling on any arms deals then the bilateral negotiations might feature some consultancy fees or legal fees but that's for another day." Aurelio furrowed his brow at Cosimo. "Understood?"

Cosimo held up his hands and chuckled. "Understood, brother. I'll be the very figure of propriety." He leaned closer with a knowing smirk. "So what is His Majesty really up to with the loud objections to the Romans in Madagascar?"

Aurelio tapped his nose. "He has some ideas on how we could possibly benefit from it but they're still just initial ideas at the moment. I will say this, he's still young but there's a fierce mind behind those eyes of his, a real credit to his family name. Some of these ideas might require your involvement so rest assured that you will be told all about them if he decides to attempt anything." He checked his watch and raised an eyebrow. "Now, I think it might be time to retire. It was a long flight and neither of us are as young as we used to be, so getting a good sleep would be an excellent idea."

Cosimo nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right." He rose from his armchair and began to head for the door, turning to face Aurelio once more with a broad grin as he noticed Isabella emerging from the bathroom in black and red lingerie. "Have a good night, brother."

by **The Crooked Beat** » Sun Mar 10, 2019 8:53 pm

Sydney

Official Gandvik’s collective reaction upon its receipt of news that Chrinthani authorities were planning to hold an international summit on trade and commerce could have been summed up most aptly by the incomparable Tenor Saw’s red-hot single “Ring the Alarm,” still, going on thirty years after its original release, occasionally to be seen lurking on albeit far from statistically-rigorous national charts. If Gandvik was, in all other respects, a nation deeply divided across all sorts of often gaping fault-lines, on one issue at least there existed a broad, indeed a near-universal, consensus, and that issue was Free Trade, two words able to excite in stereotypical dour, phlegmatic bureaucratic-administrative types a fear that bordered upon outright hysteria. No one had a closer or more intimate knowledge of just how delicately-balanced Gandvian society actually was than those charged with maintaining that exact equilibrium, admittedly members of an exceptionally large group, and nothing could be counted upon to throw the archaic, labyrinthine clockwork mechanism that was the ex-Principality, now-Democratic Republic out of tune more effectively or destructively than a sudden invasion of Neoliberalism. Any talk of international trade regimes, therefore, was guaranteed to touch off an absolute panic, mitigated not at all by the simple fact that Riga could find out precious little about what issues and initiatives, exactly, were actually up for discussion.

This veritable hurricane of Free-Trade Terror, rating comfortably a Category Five on the Saffir-Simpson scale, had its eye placed squarely on Ingermanburg’s former Royal Palce, now known, officially, as the Kleinmichel Building and headquarters of Gandvik’s gargantuan, virtually omnipotent Ministry of Trade and Industry. Behind its chaotic and, as some would put it, tastelessly gaudy if nonetheless lovingly-maintained Baroque façade brooded none other than Nestori Relander, undisputed department chief since 1992, whose stupendous capacity for work showed, as he stared down his seventieth birthday, no sign of flagging. In much the same way as his long-time rival Folke Snellmann, another official wielding vast and nebulous powers, Minister Relander tended to awe and terrify in equal measure, and much of what G.W.F. Hegel said, all those years earlier, about Napoleon, could easily have been said about Relander today. Indeed, the arena which this particular world-soul reached out to dominate was in all likelihood far more complicated than anything the famed Emperor had to contend with in his day, and nowhere, with the prominent exception of Snellmann in his capacity as Civil Service Director, did the orchestral metaphors so beloved of Gandvian political scientists apply more fully. To see Relander fully engaged, his luminous intellect focused with all its power on a particular problem, was to call up images of another famous Valendian, Ludwig van Beethoven perhaps, a man whose genius guided the collective efforts of a colossal organization to create something not infrequently magnificent. Such comparisons were, of course, substantially invited by Relander’s unruly mane of silver-streaked hair, which framed a jowly, broad-nosed face perpetually scowling, and customarily shabby manner of dress. It all made for a sharp contrast to rail-thin, inevitably dapper Snellmann, thick-rimmed, in fact Army-issue spectacles balanced upon a beaklike nose, also-graying hair combed and pomaded to a glossy sheen.

If anyone in government happened to harbor doubts over Riga’s seriousness in matters of economic import, word that Relander and Snellmann, two men whose mutual suspicion was boundless, were actually in conference, and in person no less, would have dispelled them immediately. Whatever foreign governments might have felt, Riga saw in Chrinthania’s summit a terrible danger, namely, the possibility that Gandvik, socialist in all but name and, soon, quite possibly in name as well, would find itself locked out of an integrated global trade system built according to Chicagoan principles. Loss of foreign trade, and access to foreign markets, would amount to a disaster the likes of which Gandvik’s exceptionally young and profoundly unsteady Second Republic might well find itself unable to weather, a source of quite possibly fatal instability at a time when Riga faced trouble on almost every other front. Gandvik’s response to this threat would, clearly, require close coordination at the very highest levels. One additional complicating factor, of course, was Sumatra. Chrinthani officials had not given Riga’s normally little-troubled ambassador, Anders Boëthius, any clear answer to his inquiries as to whether representatives of that breakaway ex-colony, now calling itself Kircherholm, would be invited in either official or unofficial capacity, and, all other considerations aside, it simply would not do, would in fact be unthinkable, for a Gandvian minister of state to appear side-by-side with a Sumatran claiming equal rank. While Relander, at least, espousing greater confidence in Chrinthania’s moral character than his colleague, suspected that Chrinthania would find the breakaway Sumatran regime’s only thinly-veiled White-supremacist policies too distasteful to allow for normal intergovernmental relations, unless Sydney gave Ambassador Boëthius an unequivocal assurance, and as matters stood it did not appear that Chrinthani authorities would be so obliging, it was not a risk that anyone in Riga intended to run.

How, then, would it be possible adequately represent their government’s position in front of so many high-ranking foreigners, without risk of giving the Sumatran separatists tacit recognition? A solution, however, was not long in presenting itself, for Relander and Snellmann both could call upon a slate of suitably able subordinates. One trusted public servant would be detached from each man’s respective orbit and dispatched, accompanied by a suitable retinue, to Sydney with full negotiating authority, and, perhaps more importantly, with Relander’s and Snellmann’s full confidence.

So it was that Deputy Minister Kaarlo Murtomäki found himself, together with Matthias Joseph Ungern von Sternberg, sequestered in a specially-partitioned, first-class cabin aboard one of Gandvian flag-carrier Aero O/Y’s PTO-182 widebody airliners, deeply engrossed in reading and discussion. Where foreign delegations might have carried with them all manner of digital equipment, cellphones, tablets, lightweight laptop computers, government business in Gandvik remained very much a pen-and-paper affair, and as the FASTEN SEATBELTS light flashed on, Murtomäki looked about anxiously at the thorough mess they’d made of the former luxury suite they’d taken up residence in almost twenty hours earlier. Binders, file folders, stenoblocs crowded with squirrely handwriting took up nearly every inch of horizontal space, while the thin plastic walls themselves had become papered with additional graphs, figures, and still more scrawled-over writing sheets. The only laptop brought along, a Stromberg 54-46 whose solitary redeeming feature was its striking modernist logo, a veritable triumph of Gandvian graphic design, had steadfastly refused to work and had, accordingly, hours earlier been lost in the jumble. It seemed, to Murtomäki, impossible that the flight was over, impossible that twenty hours of solid work had gone by, indeed, had raced past, with so much left to do. In a state of evident agitation Murtomäki hurriedly began to gather-up the scattered material into its correct files, folios and crates, until the plane’s captain, sharply turned out in full livery as befit passengers of such distinction, appeared at the door to remind the diplomats, albeit with faultless tact, that Aero O/Y’s safety regulations applied even to those on official business.

Sternberg, for his part, was the very image of serenity, and if he felt any trepidation as their hour of reckoning drew one giant step nearer, he did not let it show. Prior to the Sydney assignment Sternberg, who’d recently made an enviable name for himself as quasi-official troubleshooter of choice for several ministries, not only his own boss Foreign Minister Kuosmanen, had known of Murtomäki by reputation alone. Twenty hours of enforced proximity, however, could do wonders for an incipient relationship, and Sternberg, while by nature quite a friendly individual and one able to focus in on just about anyone’s most positive traits, had found in Murtomäki a great deal to like. This was, of course, notwithstanding the two men’s obvious dissimilarities, in both appearance and manner. Next to the polished, sharp, urbane Sternberg, whose every movement and gesture and whose immaculate wardrobe practically glowed with aristocracy, Murtomäki could have been described as quirky, to say the least. Prone to slouch, to pour out of his seat in all directions, an irredeemable nailbiter, foot-tapper and finger-drummer, done up in a mismatched assembly of cheap suit-bits and a questionably loud necktie, Murtomäki was a far cry from the Chrinthani and other international diplomats turned out in their designer-label finest. Murtomäki was not, however, too far a cry, of this Sternberg had become thoroughly convinced, for his Trade-and-Industry counterpart shared with his chief Relander, in addition to an, arguably, questionable fashion-sense, a palpable genius. If a distinct oddness was the price attached to Murtomäki’s mighty gifts of altogether photographic memory, his astounding powers of recall, his broad store of knowledge on nearly every conceivable topic, it was a price Sternberg would happily pay.

The airliner began its final descent into Sydney with a graceful bank out over the shimmering Pacific, and from the cockpit just ahead could be heard, answered in the sonorous, long-drawn-out vowels typical of a Gandvian speaking English, that wonderful Chrinthani twang which for Sternberg and Murtomäki both, who’d done their national service in the 1980s, called immediately to mind images of a skylined Peter Garrett. Practically on cue, the functionaries quartered further aft, to whose choraling and merrymaking Murtomäki and Sternberg had previously, in their total absorbtion, been insensitive, broke spontaneously into an impromptu rendition of “Beds are Burning,” soon accompanied, Sternberg noted happily, by Anna-Maria Sternberg on the Stylophone. Choral singing remained, even far into the modern digital age, a wildly popular social activity in Gandvik, and Gandvians themselves were, as the Chrinthani would soon discover at first hand, liable to break into song at the slightest pretext. One unlooked-for silver lining to pervasive State Church-directed artistic censorship, after all, was a thriving D-I-Y culture, and it would not have been unfair to call music a national obsession. And although the sheer ubiquity of musicians and bands usually tended to reflect itself in a certain amateurishness, this was by no means a rule, and it was Matthias Joseph Sternberg’s immense good fortune to have married a musician who stood, most informed opinion would hold, head and shoulders above the average.

Odd as it would perhaps have seemed, of all the men and women, predominantly men, aboard the flight, Anna-Maria Sternberg was the one name likely to enjoy some degree of recognition, however limited, among those Chrinthanis not intimately engaged in affairs of state. If one left out Gandvik’s occasional successes on the Eurovision stage, the country’s only real musical presence internationally amounted to a relative trickle of roughly-produced and, in most cases, inconveniently eclectic compilations, bootlegs, and home recordings, their wider appeal necessarily limited by the unavoidable fact that very few people outside of Gandvik actually spoke the Gandvian language. Only a handful of Gandvian groups had ever managed to cross that escape barrier, and of that small number, Anna-Maria Sternberg, nee Boydermann, had provided a large proportion of the creative impetus for no less than four.

As a teenager she’d formed-up Voimala, powerplant, from among her school-friends, a bright and simple pop-punk outfit owing no small debt to the Buzzcocks, though given a riotous life of its own by Anna-Maria Sternberg’s absurdist songwriting and evident multi-instrumental virtuosity. While they’d never released anything that could even remotely have been called an album, a collection of rough-hewn studio tracks and live recordings did somehow manage to find its way out of the country, and, arriving as it did unheralded, completely by surprise, caused quite a splash among relevant scenes. Sternberg is probably best-known for her work with Ulkorakennus a sprawling, shapeshifting collective notorious for its chaotic live shows and for its sheer, Parliamentesque stage-presence, and whose name, outhouse in English, concisely sums up its irreverent attitude to official standards of morality. Brash and brassy, with Sternberg specifically responsible for the heavyweight bass and jittery, homemade synthesizer lines that were such a crucial part of its sound, Ulkorakennus trafficked in some poorly-defined space between outright funk, girl-group soul, and electro-pop. Contrary to any reasonable expectation Ulkorakennus, target of a severe and exacting censorship which barred its music from the radio and rendered any attempt to record or sell an album commercially quite impossible, nonetheless grew wildly popular and remains so. Not without strong justification is Outhouse, intricate, eminently danceable yet deeply sincere, emotionally open, often pitched as the Gandvian New Order, an epithet, perhaps not entirely a welcome one, which the group tried to have some fun with in the title of its third album or quasi-album, Tyttö Bernard, Girl Bernard. It should be noted that this particular release yielded, with a strong nod to Jonathan Demme, Outhouse’s only music video and a suitably memorable one at that.

After Ulkorakennus, under a combination of financial stringency and the inevitable build-up of entropy that made it impossible to hold such a large group together, officially dissolved in 1995, albeit not before a triumphal farewell concert the proportions of which live on in the memories of anyone lucky enough to have been in attendance, Anna-Maria Sternberg, by then married to Matthias Joseph, turned her hand to production. Anna-Maria was at the controls for key albums by such latter-day Gandvian hitmakers as The Chiltons, purveyors of a twangy, quasi-Byrdsian rock which an English-speaking listener might compare to the Soft Boys, and Pyramidit, neo-Marxist trip-hoppers of strongly Pharaonic aesthetics evidently seen by the Lutheran Church of Gandvik as one of the nation’s principal threats to social order. And in fact, Anna-Maria Sternberg’s presence on the Sydney mission had a great deal to do with her responsibilities by way of Pyramidit, for in her luggage, actually a large part of her luggage which otherwise consisted of nothing more than some essential clothing, toiletries, and a couple tattered paperbacks, were several dozen cassette-tape copies of Pyramidit’s latest, Baseballin Kansakunta , Nation of Baseball. The idea, of course, was to spread them around a city in whose club culture the Pyramids’ eminently dance-friendly offerings might find a decent welcome, or possibly trade them for some recent foreign albums not yet available in Gandvik, and Matthias Joseph, whose collection of Ulkorakennus pins and buttons ran to the hundreds, was only too glad to help. And if Anna-Maria might not have meant much to the average Chrinthani, the Gandvian delegation, including even the deeply reticent Murtomäki, was nothing short of star-struck.

Textbook and bounce-less landing deftly accomplished, the Gandvians, headed by the Sternbergs, hand in hand, and Murtomäki just a pace behind, spilled out of the airliner in a noisy, raucous flood of excitement. On hand to receive Riga’s two diplomats were Ambassador Boëthius, naturally, a trumpeter, and a drummer, the latter two drawn from among embassy staffers, and who promptly launched into a swinging take on “Absolute,” an immortal dancehall favorite. Boëthius, khaki shorts belted high around an ample waist, shortsleeved, sunshaded, topped with a sky-blue sort of bucket hat which, from its Sydney Opera House insignia, must have been some kind of souvenier, stood outside what every Gandvian immediately recognized as, of all things, an RAF minibus and a strikingly handsome one at that, a powdery light-green with white accemts and cheatlines, immaculate whitewalls to boot, and flower-pattern curtains around freshly-cleaned windows. Customary round of handshaking and well-wishing completed, Boëthius, actually at the wheel, whisked the new arrivals off to the Gandvian embassy, where they would reside for the summit’s duration.

(OCC: Gone and done it again, very silly and unfocused, subject to severe editing!)

by **-Roma Invicta-** » Sat Jun 08, 2019 6:51 am

A Joint Post by -Roma Invicta- & Saint-Laurent

Consul Galerius Albinus and Praetor Atilus Cordus had spent much of the time since their arrival at Brightmore Palace mingling with the other guests, their Lictor bodyguards never too far away but suitably out of the way not to intrude, or step on the toes of the host security personnel who were, of course, responsible for the overall security of the event. Both magistrates were perfectly comfortable interacting with a variety of individuals, many of whom they had never met or even heard of before; but then this was perhaps hardly surprising given the nature of political life, particularly in the Roman Republic.

The Patronage system, or as it was known in latin the ‘clientela’ relationship, was central to political power. Every Roman, citizen or no, was either a patron or client, or indeed in many cases both; whether this was the relationship between a tenant and his landlord, or a deeper connection between individuals. The patron promised protection and support, up to and including providing for legal and medical bills, in return for some form of service; this could be financial, such as rent, physical, such as working the fields, or indeed political, voting for a candidate in return for their patronage. Many Romans were both patron and client, typically a landlord, for example, might have a number of client-tenants across his land holdings to whom he was patron and had certain responsibilities, whilst he himself might also be responsible to others, who could be one who supported his business endeavours or to the shepherd of his political career. The responsibilities of both the client and patron were varied and nuanced, but it meant that those in politics tended to have to cultivate a large client base and that made them very good at interpersonal interaction, as these were, in effect, the politicians constituents; the candidate for a city magistracy would, for example, cultivate relationships with local landlords who would, in return for providing an open ear for any issues, deliver the votes of their tenants.

It was, in many respects, a more direct form of democracy than in many other representative democracies. It might concentrate power in the hands of those able to deliver the votes, but in return they were able to ensure that their clients would be able to get their voices heard. It was a very different and unique system, but by and large it worked for Rome, and meant that its politicians, its magistrates, tended to be remarkably in-tune with the plight of the ‘common people’ for men (and women) of their wealth and social rank, but also very good at socialising with a varied group of individuals.

As they finished speaking to one particular Ambassador, Galerius Albinus steered his subordinate towards a delegation he had just spotted entering the room; the Vice President of the Republic of Saint-Laurent, a key friend and partner of Rome in the Caribbean.

“My dear Vice-Président Parizeau,” Galerius Albinus said warmly as he approached. “It is good to see you.”

“And you as well Consul,” Parizeau answered. Parizeau had largely maneuvered himself away from his compatriots so that he and the Roman Consul could speak more privately, albeit with “ears everywhere,” Parizeau would be more guarded and cautious with what he said. “I suspect the travel arrangements were pleasurable and the accommodations fantastic? The Chrinthanians have been rather accommodating to us and this affair rather splendid.” Despite being of French ancestry, Parizeau carried with him a sort of mixed way of speaking English. Some words carried a thick, sometimes unintelligible French accent, and other words and mannerisms resembled the British and mannerisms adopted in the “New World” as it was.

The Roman Consul wryly noted the title the Saint-Laurentian had addressed him by, but took little concern as it was clearly not meant as a disrespect.

“Of course! No expenses are typically spared on events such as these, and the Chrinthanians do not seem like the sort to want to disappoint in that department. Empires and Kingdoms, in my experience, tend to be quite good at hosting events such as this, with all their pageantry,” Galerius Albinus replied with a slight smile as he looked around at the busy crowds, noting that the Vice-Président was moving them away from others as much as possible. “That being said, the rest of us manage to hold our own, and Rome has never been one to shy away from a little pageantry every now and then… oh to have seen a Triumph of old! It’s been a long time since Rome has had cause for such things.”

Galerius Albinus paused and smiled.

“These summits, beyond the pageantry however, are useful for bringing the nations of the world together for mutual prosperity, especially outside natural, existing friendships such as that between Rome and Saint-Laurent,” He continued. “But they’re also opportunities for existing friends to discuss matters of mutual benefit, at least as far as Rome is concerned… tell me, if you can, how does Saint-Laurent view events such as these?”

Parizeau smiled, “Beneficial and intriguing Consul. We have representatives from many nations with us and surely some good will come out of this and, if I may be so selfish, Saint-Laurent will walk away with a stronger hand. After all, isn’t the perception of our nation simply as a ‘Caribbean Resort Nation’ when it is so, so, so much more.”

“An understandable desire, and one that Rome is more than happy to assist with, if we can,” Galerius Albinus nodded. “We are, with our unique insight and involvement in Saint-Laurent’s history, are very much aware that you are far more than that.”

“Perhaps then we should keep the secret,” Parizeau joked, “after all, if all of these nations came to the Caribbean we might run out of beach space.”

“The Caribbean is already busy enough really… and yes, I do recognize the irony of that I, a representative of one of those foreign powers, is saying so to one who calls it home,” Galerius Albinus chuckled. “I do not envy your position; Rome at least knows who it’s likely foes are, and those it can befriend, but with so many states or colonies all around you, you have an unenviable diplomatic juggling act to do.”

Parizeau leaned in a little, “It’s pretty simple to know who is friend from foe and who is just trying to be your friend to hide the fact that they’re a foe. I can promise you that we know as well as you do but we have the advantage of being a smaller target. At the least, if someone comes picking for a fight, they’re going to find the Caribbean far less welcoming than it is to tourists.”

“Indeed, and then they would have to face civil unrest at home when their people find out the consequences for their holiday,” Galerius Albinus grinned. “You have me there, Sir, I bow to the superior grand strategy of the Republic of Saint-Laurent.”

Parizeau chuckled, “It’s quite less serious than that, we just want to exist peacefully so that the people of the world can come to our beaches and resorts and enjoy a good time. We ask that they follow our laws and the laws in specific areas have been modified to accommodate an international crowd mind you. We see it as a duty to protect so many people in the world and that is why we believe in this and that is why we have been modernizing our military over the past ten years. These things require from time-to-time these kinds of programs.”

“There is something to be said for a quiet, prosperous life, and like you say it is something that, for all that, must be protected and defended, whatever the cost,” Galerius Albinus agreed with a nod. “You have the double-edged sword of being the single-largest polity in the Caribbean; the rest of us, including Rome, are in many ways guests, and as probably your single-largest supplier of military equipment, we are well aware of your commitment to military modernisation.”

“Yes and I suppose for that I owe you a drink here this evening,” Parizeau answered. “The Shrike program alone is worth so much to us and perhaps that is for the better. You are aware of our aging transports, the G.222s we purchased so many years ago. We are looking to replace those next.”

Galerius Albinus nodded; the Shrike Programme had been a joint effort to develop an advanced light fighter for the Saint-Laurentian Air Force and the Roman Vis Volantes. The Shrike was entering Roman service as the principle aircraft deployed in far-flung colonies where the expensive Bellator would have been wasted.

“Well, now that you mention it, Leonardo has recently developed a Mark. II version that updates the whole design ,” Galerius Albinus commented wryly. “How many, would you be looking to acquire, should the design appeal?”

“Not very many, a one-to-one replacement ratio, which would leave us only needing eight aircraft.”

“That could certainly be arranged, I’m sure; I know for a fact that Leonardo’s production run of the Mark. II is still fully active,” Galerius Albinus nodded. “It would not be difficult for eight more aircraft, and spares, to be added, and the Senate would obviously approve the foreign military sale to Saint-Laurent.”

“Then we’re looking at a step in the right direction. To think of the money we are spending for modernization. It is money well spent, I agree, but some of our other parties at home do not agree. They believe that Saint-Laurent should become a pacifist nation and certainly we are not looking to start wars but hardly will we be caught with our pants down if someone should come knocking.”

“Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum; military spending is an investment more so than any other aspect of a national budget, like you say you never know what might happen, and you want to be ready,” Galerius Albinus nodded. “That being said, as previously we’re more than happy to encourage Leonardo to extend the loyalty discount they did when you were ordering those FREMMs.”

“Then I believe we are on the same page,” said Parizeau. “However, it must be a matter we keep quiet until the appropriate motions are made by those who do the paperwork. This is perhaps the last modernization effort we’ll need to make for some time though. When we complete our modernizations no longer will we worry about aging equipment potentially falling out of the skies or breaking down on the high seas.”

“I’m sure that we can keep all of this under wraps, I’ll need to brief my Co-Consul, of course, the Praetor Militum and the Senate Defence Group, but I can invoke magisterial privilege to classify the matter until you’re ready,” Galerius Albinus nodded. “I am sure that will be a great relief to you and your government, to not have to worry about aging military equipment, and I’m sure your servicemen will appreciate it as well!”

“Yes it will. I am glad that we retain this partnership. In our history we have seen Yorkists establish a state, the Hispanics build the state, but only us French and with Roman cooperation have transformed that state into a nation.”

Global Economic and Trade Summit[AMW Only]

Global Economic and Trade Summit[AMW Only]

Who is online