[IC] [TWI-ONLY] Preserve/Profit

[Roendavar]

IC | OOC | Dispatch

[Ainslie]

Preserve/Profit | Considerations
8:30am - 10 January 2020
Arnton, Ainslie

Prime Minister Eleane Gifford of the Unified Electorates of Ainslie, is what it read on her desk. Even despite the elections being months ago, she hadn’t quite come to terms with the fact that she is leading an entire nation - one she has represented on the international stage for so many years. She read the foreign affairs newspapers like nothing else, just trying to see the responses of other nations to her domestic policy… When papers came up on the table, her first thought was how the Gaelitic neighbours would respond, a fact that still bothered her a bit. She knew the need to think of Ainslie and Ahnslens first, but the foreign affairs response was so ingrained that it was almost a reflex at this point.

Thoughts like these raced through her head on her morning walk along the paths of the foreshore reserve along the Burnett River. The media knew not to bother her - her predecessor made that clear on his morning runs. It was pretty funny that he used to have to run to get away from the media. By now though, they’ve learnt not to bother a Prime Minister early in the morning.

Of course, a walk as opposed to a run would result in a couple of chats with the locals - thankfully for her they were quite sympathetic. Central Arnton almost always voted for ACEGAD or for the STP. Either way, she was quite liked. As far as the normal frosty reception powerful Norlanders get in Wesland, it did not eventuate. The locals here had welcomed her in as one of their own. This comforted her a bit, but what certainly didn’t was the inevitable stacks of papers that would land on desk every morning.

Today was no different from the days before. She flicked through them, with almost all of the first twenty pages reading “Southpaw Atoll” somewhere on them, with five of the pages being factsheets a University gave them. The next hour was spent reading the entire brief, before she got out of her chair and gazed out onto the River Burnett. It was almost 10am at this point, which means her aide was due to come in.

Just like clockwork… 10am… the aide was standing in the corner of the room, unsure whether to disturb his boss.

“Madarne, the Foreign Minister is requesting your presence.”

“About Southpaw?”, she astutely replied.

“Yes Madarne”, the aide promptly replied

“Might as well bring the band together. You got a phone or notepad handy?”

“Yeah, fire away”, the aide reflexively stated.

Gifford looked up, smiled and then returned her gaze to the computer screen off to her left.

“Okay… so get these people if they’re available. If not, get their deputies or 2ICs.

FM Gerslin, Departmental Head for Sustainable Development, ATWI Callum Parkes, someone high up in the ACCC, Departmental Head for Science, Departmental Head for Environment, Departmental Head Natural Resources. Get someone from the international desk of the Department of Economics and the Deputy Departmental Head for Treasury with some of his advisors.”

“Will do, Madarne.”

By the time it was 11am, the meeting room with its grand oak table was filled with various bureaucrats and government officials. The aide returned to the PM who he caught staring at the river again.

“All requested persons are here, Madarne.”, he remarked to a startled PM who quickly gathered her composure before replying.

“Must be a slow morning. Excellent - let’s go.”

***

In the meeting room, Offices of the Prime Minister - Centenary Heights (Arnton), Ainslie

“Good morning everyone. Thank you for coming at short notice”, she announced as she sat down.

“Now. I assume my aide has made sure you all are up to date with Southpaw.”, to which she got a sea of nodded heads.

“Okay. So what are our options”

“Simple, Madarne. Do we preserve, or do we try and profit.”, Callum, the former League ambassador who now was Ambassador for TWI stated.

“More than that would be helpful, Callum.”, she replied

“Well, we’ve got a significant quantity of NGOs itching down in Narara to help IPNO set up the Atoll as an international park - it appears the Uni has read them in early as well. ”, Callum stated.

“Reactionary…”, one of the treasury advisors commented.

“Perhaps, perhaps… to something that’s worth protecting. After all, you don’t get five NGO leaders ringing first thing in the morning after talking to some Professor from a rural uni”, Foreign Minister Gerslin rebutted.

“Okay… let’s do this in a calmer manner - you’ve provided me with two options wildly apart from one another. What’s the middle ground here? Is there one? We obviously can’t burn bridges with the environmentalists or the Science and Tech Party folk and we can’t hold our businesses back from the Atoll unless there’s an international consensus - we’d get torched by the business community for that, they dislike us enough already...”, the Prime Minister stated.

“And Aaron have we been talking with our Gaelitic neighbours and allies at all?”

“Not yet, Madarne”, he replied as his face grew slightly more red.

“When we finish, please do so.”, the PM replied. “Maybe we can work something out and make a multi-nation bloc… Now, we don’t have any media or comms advisors around do we? I believe that’s something me and the office might’ve forgotten about…”

“I don’t believe we have any here. Apologies for that, would you like me to bring one in?”, Gifford’s aide replied.

“Yeah - just grab one from our offices. Anywhere else will take too long… actually... After we’re done, Aaron and Callum, is it okay if you can stay back and we’ll talk about how we’re going to package whatever is discussed?”

Aaron and Callum approved as the stately aide walked out of the meeting for a few minutes.

“So… how many millions of Ahnsens are we talking…”, the PM continued.

“Treasury does not have any estimates that we can rely on, but these are amongst the largest reserves we’ve ever seen - especially in an area outside of anyone’s exclusive economic zone.”

“We’re talking tens, maybe hundreds of millions or upward of that”, the Foreign Minister tagged onto the Treasury advisor’s comment.

***

Two hours later

“Perhaps the best thing to do is nothing at this time?”, Callum remarked.

“What, see how it plays out and respond on a more micro level? Support what we like, try and hold back what we don’t?”, Aaron (the Foreign Minister) enquired.

“So there is no way we are going to obstruct IPNO. And there’s no way we can prevent private enterprise from going at it if overseas companies do… what can we do on the CASI tax in regards to this - can someone from Treasury provide us insight regarding that?”, the Prime Minister said.

“Native companies in the sector are exceeding international standards and continue to outperform companies of many other nations when it comes to meeting societal standards for the industry. As such, CASI tax penalties would be considered as an unfair overreach from the Federal Government, if we are considering precedent.”, a treasury advisor replied.

“Okay… Give local resource companies that may be concerned by this a heads up on this before the media comes out with the story. Tell them to keep quiet until the story breaks... and let’s hope that if a free for all does occur their environmental credentials hold up to scrutiny and that we don’t have people marching in the streets next week”, the Prime Minister stated before shortly standing up and closing her hands to signify the conclusion of the meeting.

“The minutes shall be sent to you all by midday tomorrow. My office will keep you in the loop and we do hope you all reciprocate this. Please inform the Ministers promptly and notify them that if this becomes a free for all I expect the Minister of Sustainability and the Minister of Business to be in this room - I would also appreciate the presence of both Callum and Aaron if this outcome does occur.”

“See you soon…”, Aaron stated, holding back a smile.

“Let’s hope it’s a happy IPNO Commissioner I’m talking to instead of you about Southpaw, yes?”, the Prime Minister replied

“Of course, Madarne”, he replied as the rest of them got out of their chairs and collected their papers.

[Almorea]

January 10, 2020
Carldon Hall, Ellsburgh, Almorea

President Alasdair Hallowell sipped his coffee and cringed, looking at his aide.

"Did you filter this through a goddamn paper towel?"

The aide fidgeted, averting his boss's glare. "Yes, Mr. President."

Hallowell slammed the cup down on his desk.

"That is the worst possible way to make coffee, you dumbass. This tastes like a goddamn wet paper towel." He reached into his pocket and found a few dollars. "Why don't you go down to the press room and get me a new cup?"

It was a dreary day outside Carldon Hall, the presidential residence. Hallowell, a man of Almorea's sunny south, hated the icy winds and snow flurries that January brought to the northern provinces. Smoke from Ellsburgh's congested streets filled the air, darkening a sky already bereft of most sunlight. The President's aides feared his mood on winter afternoons like these.

The presidential office was empty today; illuminated by the white flush lights in the ceiling, the lacquered furniture basked in a glow that evoked mint chewing gum. The League ambassador had left an hour ago, having given an anxious explanation to Hallowell as to why Almorea's resolution to appoint a deputy secretary had fallen flat. After signing some papers, the President was now playing a cellphone game.

He looked up when his desk phone rang. It was the smaller, black one, not the large red one earmarked for urgent use by diplomats and defense officials. Hallowell considered letting it ring, or calling his aide back to answer it while he "went to the restroom" and finished his game. But the aide was already gone. And so, reluctantly, the President of Almorea picked up the phone.

"Mr. President?"

"Speaking. Is this Bobby?" Hallowell recognized the voice as that of Robert Milburn, the deputy secretary of state. He detested getting calls from this man.

"Hello sir, it is. I'm- i'm calling this afternoon... I'm not sure if you've had the chance to look at State's briefing paper for today yet. Secretary Thurson had it sent over earlier."

The President rolled his eyes. He had only read the first few items on the paper before skipping to the bottom and initialing it.

"Um, yeah, I read it," Hallowell said, pulling it towards him for a better look. "What about it?"

"So did you read the memo about Southpaw Atoll? It's stapled on there. We'd like to have a meeting called on the subject, and get some, um, interagency cooperation- some trade officials, a few staffers from the..."

Blah, blah, blah. The President zoned out as Milburn got really into the bureaucratic lingo. Grunting a few times to indicate he was still following the conversation, he flipped the page and discovered a few photocopied paragraphs. Hallowell peered at the paper, processing notes on Southpaw Atoll, the Great Coral Reef, biodiversity, seagull droppings, and Roendavarian diplomacy, before he got to the last paragraph, which had been highlighted with a red marker.

"The discovery of large oil and gas deposits under the Atoll poses unique challenges for our policymakers. In keeping with the administration's environmentally-friendly stance, it would be sensible to campaign diplomatically for the conservation of the Kavju Sea region. However, Almorean oil companies could profit considerably from extraction operations around the Atoll, likely leading to job creation and economic growth around the third and fourth quarters of 2020, when voters will be heading to the polls for the legislative elections."

Hallowell's eyes widened. Milburn had stopped talking by now, apparently waiting for a presidential response.

A situation now confronted the President, one that seemed increasingly tricky the more he thought about it. Really getting into focus, Hallowell even allowed the cellphone game to drift out of his mind. His party would expect him to oppose economic development of the Atoll, of course, and his political base of pot-smoking liberals would go out of their minds if he gave the go-ahead for massive habitat destruction. That would look bad, very bad, in the leftist press.

On the other hand, new jobs sounded mightily appealing, especially as Hallowell envisioned the millions of voters who would be going to the polls in December to elect a new Congress. Positive headlines danced in his mind's eye- and if his party retook the Senate? Imagine the bills he could ram through!

Then again, however, there was the diplomatic angle. Which other governments would be circling the Atoll, elbowing each other out of the way to exploit the oil for themselves? Would he have to deploy the Navy? What attitude would the League take?

"Are you still there, Mr. President? Did you get all that down?"

Hallowell tapped his head with his hand.

"Um, um... yeah, I got it. Listen, why don't you get the Secretary of State over here... you might as well come with him. And, uh, while you're at it, get me the trade secretary, the navy secretary, and the, um, aquatic protection guy, and a few staffers to take notes. I'll have the Deputy President come too. Oh, and also call up Mark Parde, and tell him to get in with all the others. OK?"

Milburn sighed, realizing that he would now have to call seven different people. "Sure thing, Mr. President."

Hallowell hung up and swiveled his chair backwards, to face the window. He sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes, rubbing his chin. Then, he breathed on the window and drew a smiley face.

The smiley face jolted the President's brain back into action. "I better call Langton, and see what he thinks." John Langton, CEO of the Almorean Oil Consortium had given his private cell number to Hallowell last year, to have conversations without any Carldon Hall staffers listening in. Nobody else knew about the arrangement.

On the last ring before voicemail, somebody picked up.

"Ah, Mr. President. A pleasure. You caught me at a good time." It was the voice of the richest man in Almorea.

"Hey, John, the pleasure is mine. Good to hear you sound better after that nasty cold..."

As President Hallowell talked, a plan crystallized in his mind. While paying lip-service to environmentalism, he would green-light aggressive exploitation of Southpaw Atoll's oil. He would demand, in front of Congress, that the Consortium stop its activities, while exerting diplomatic pressure to let it operate unmolested. He would invite the leader of that goddamned IPNO to a meeting in front of as many cameras as possible.

But Almorea would get that oil. And it would get it... like a boss.

[Dormill and Stiura]

10 January, 0515
Palace of the President, Presidential Office, Cour Rouge

---

The weight of the election campaign wore itself prominently on Cedar Dyson. A beard had begun to grow where he used to keep it constantly clean, his eyes drooped ever so slightly as scars of his body's fight to sleep when he refused to so often. He slumped in his chair where he one sat at attention, ready for anything to come through the door that sat in front of him. If the picture of Remy de Launey behind him could speak, he would most likely speak of disappointment at Cedar's demeanor. Whether or not Cedar would listen to the ghost of Presidents Past is unknown, but almost nothing seemed able to lift him back out, not even his stunning victory in the election which would be put on such a prominent display later today as Congress ceremonially sat for the first time in their new session. He just sat in his chair, watching the world turn around him, and slept.

---

1145
When Cedar roused himself awake again, he found his office still empty and dark as it was earlier in the morning. As he slowly rose from his chair to begin his day, a familiar face came through the door.

"Ceda- Oh! thank God there you are!", Keira Aalders exclaimed, relieved she managed to find the President. "I haven't seen you all morning, people were getting nervous you wouldn't show up to the sitting."

"Just because I sleep in here now doesn't mean I won't attend my duties, Keira. What else would I have to do?" Cedar replied, scratching an itch on his face as he walked out of his office.

"What do you mean, Cedar? You almost never normally sleep in your Office unless something's keeping you there.", Keira responded.

"That's none of your concern! Just get my staff chief to give me my briefing while I clean myself up." Cedar finished tersely, walking away and towards his living areas in the palace.

After a shower and a shave, Cedar at least looked the part of himself five years ago, minus other signs of ageing that were harder to hide. As he walked back to his office he saw his morning report on the desk. Twenty pages thick as usual and stuffed to the brim with information and data and statistics that Congress deigned necessary he read first thing every morning before beginning his other duties. All the domestic stuff was easy to deal with, nothing new going on for once after a tense year previously, or that was the perception he was given as he skimmed through the document in a haphazard manner. When he got to the reports given by the Ministry of State, however, things got interesting quick.

Ministry of State Special Report on Diplomatic Communiques from the Unified Electorates of Ainslie

At 1112 hours, Ambassador Kasey York relayed Communiques from the Unified Electorates regarding a meeting between Prime Minister Eleane Gifford and her staff regarding a developing situation in
the Southpaw Atoll, Kajvu Sea region, attached below. Prospectors from Vancouvia have identified a potentially giant (4-6 billion barrels OIP) oil deposit ~161km northwest of outlying islands of
the Southpaw Atoll, beyond the currently defined terms of both territorial waters and EEZ waters from the Principality of Razzgriz, thus in international waters.
Ahnslen assessments, attached below, suggests the deposit could be worth hundreds of millions of Ahnsens, or in excess of two hundred million Guilders.
Industry leaders suggest that a giant deposit would be worth in the excess of billions, but without a clear understanding of the extent of this deposit and potential others,
a complete economic and environmental assessment cannot be conducted.

This revalation will most likely be public knowledge within twenty-four hours, either through official Ahnslen sources within the government or potential news leaks.
The Ministry of State advises the President to use non-committal language if and when addressing the nation regarding the situation,
and should promote cooperation between the government of Razzgriz and international groups,
most especially the League and IPNO, to create a safe environment where further prospecting can be performed and a health, safety, and environmental assessment can be performed.
In any other related affair, the Ministry of State trusts in the President's judgement to address other relevant issues.

After sitting upright for a few moments, Cedar realizes this lull he has been stuck in has been broken. He dives deep into the rest of the report before putting it aside and redressing himself, so he could attend the first sitting of his new Congress in style.

[Roendavar]

13th of January, 2020
11:30
Velthia vi Araneu (Mansion of Roses), Beyond the Thasmon Line

---

To the Royal Highness, Flori, King Ivan I Davaren Avarești,

The Roendavarian government's silence and inaction to the situation that has currently surfaced regarding the Southpaw Atoll is worrying and disappointing. The Ahnslen government has already made the findings public, and it is only time when the greedy corporations of the world capitalize on such a discovery. We shall not spare you of the details of the resources found underneath Southpaw Atoll. We will, however, inform you of the possible consequences as described by The Western Isles Environmental Research and Conservation Commision's Report on the Ecology of the Southpaw Atoll, the Great Coral Reef, and its surrounding ecological sites and the Threat of Resource Exploitation.

"The Southpaw Atoll consists of 13 shallow islands surrounded by reefs. Approximately 200,000 square kilometers of coral reef surrounds the atoll in a curved horizontal line stretching west to southeast of Southpaw Atoll. The area is home to hundreds of species of fish with 17 of them endemic to the area. It is also home to 23 species of cetaceans, as well as a few aquatic reptiles. On the islands themselves, three species of birds are endemic to the area, with another 163 species crossing the atoll during their migration periods. The number of species of insects is still undetermined. Close to 3,000 species of mollusc have been and there are at least 210 species of ascidians on the reef. Between 250-320 species of bryozoans live on the reef. Four hundred coral species inhabit the reef while the islands also support 2,095 known plant species; two of these are endemic.

The discovery of oil and natural gas, as well as the consequences of its exploration, drilling, and extraction poses an immense risk and will likely wipe out most of the reef and endanger certain endemic species."

Let this serve not as a warning, but a reminder, for you and the Roendavarian government to immediately act on the situation. Support the initiative of the environmental groups publicly. if not, we, and others, shall take responsibility upon ourselves in a manner one should not dare to underestimate. We look forward to your response.

-Head Councilor, The Greenpeace Foundation

"Why do we even support these people?"

Ivan grunted as he crumpled the letter and threw it into the fireplace, a standard measure in the Roendavarian government. Glowing embers sparked as the letter slowly burned away, the room left only with the soft light of the fireplace and whatever little sunlight that pierced the heavy curtains that darkened the room. King Ivan I returned to his table where a stack of letters from different environmental groups still lay unread and unopened, no doubt requests for support regarding the situation at hand.

The entire country was in a state of uproar. It was apparent that companies, supported no doubt by their respective governments, are already making plans for the Southpaw Atoll. Roendavar, despite being located thousands of kilometers away from Southpaw Atoll, could not resist a new crusade for environmentalism especially after the humiliation brought by the diplomatic blunder of Sawneeak Atoll. As such, the higher-ups are quite reluctant to act, yet the public demands for a reckoning and they will not stop till they get it. Just yesterday, a group of people threw crude oil at the steps of the Grand Court, calling for action.

"For a start, the Greenpeace Foundations fund most of TWI-ERC's operations and they have been steadfast allies of the Roendavarian government especially for garnering public support in our policies."

Minister of the Environment Lord Iason III Alexandros Vladirai replied as he remained sitted. Heir to the lands of Eire to the south and the same age as the King, the two had grown close over the years, with rumor plenty. Regardless, he had always remained by the King's side not only as Minister, but an advisor.

"That means, we're supporting a rumored eco-terrorist group just because they want to plant trees?" Ivan scoffed.

"Not quite but... quite."

"Do we even have proper allies that we can count on this matter?"

"What about the Ahnslens?"

"The Afestrios has advised us to not count on the Ahnslens. Apparently, according to our spies, they have been up to their usual desire to succumb to neutrality, to which I cannot be surprised. They seem sympathetic to the environmentalist cause but they have yet to commit." Ivan said, recalling to the letter sent by the Afestrios (Grandmaster) of the Agents of the Rose. The report still remained on his desk and it detailed vague and incomplete information about the plans of several countries.

"Also..." Ivan continued. "Our ambassadors and diplomats have already advised nations and informed them of our course. Still, we have yet to know their intentions and I am reluctant to ramp up or espionage activities."

"And what of our position then?" Iason asked as he opened and read a letter from the Ministry of Nature Agatha Versiton Agserius. It was no surprise that the Ministry is also up in arms about the current situation. "You do know it is only time till our people demand for an answer?"

"I know, Iason, and our answer is clear. We are against any outside exploitation in Southpaw Atoll and we shall bring to international court whoever intends to do so. However, seeing as we are the only nation open about this side, we have yet to garner support. I shall not have a repeat of the blunder that is Sawneeak again." Ivan grimaced. The Sawneeak Atoll dispute proved to be a setback to Roendavar's international influence.

"Maybe, if we can raise enough of a voice of opposition, we could make blow this up into an international situation. There are countries who will no doubt support our cause. The question is, how will we do such a thing?"

Ivan pondered for a moment. What was something Roendavar could do that would get international attention without the risk of retribution, or at least, a minimum. His eyes immediately widened as he quickly sat down on his desk and began to write a letter on the usual parchment the government uses.

"In the provisions included in the constitution of TWI-ERC, the host country can reconvene the Eire Convention at any given time to discuss matters of grave importance. We have been the host of TWI-ERC, always has been, and surely an international summit could get us what we need. Support." Ivan declared, writing a letter of recommendation to TWI-ERC to begin an emergency summit concerning various international environmental groups.

"On January 15..." Ivan narrated as he wrote. "... The Western Isles Environmental Research and Conservation Commission must call for an international summit regarding the developing situation in the Southpaw Atoll." He paused. "How's that?"

"That might be a good idea. I'll send word to the HMN to release news of our stance and of the summit. I shall also send for the presidents to your office. No doubt they would want to be informed first. I'll do so right away." Iason stood up and proceeded to walk towards the door. The Communications Room was located in another part of the mansion and it would take him time to notify the Grand Court.

"Oh, by the way, Iason." Ivan looked up, a grin plastered on his face. "We have a thing for theatrics and themes and I do hope that Eire is prepared. We shall do this in your home, Valrius Castle. Notify your family at once."

Iason laughed as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Ivan's office was now dark and silent again with only the crackling fire to keep him company. It was time that Roendavar resumes its actions, especially after a year of inactivity. Roendavar will not let Southpaw turn into another Sawneeak.

[Mageek]

(First time rping, thoughts and suggestions would be appreciated)

"You don't realize what you're passing up, Minister. This could be our chance to secure our independence, and the integrity of the socialist cause, for years to come."

The One People Party leans rather heavily towards industrialism - yet another similarity between them and the nominally United Socialist Minister of Economics.

"You've declined to answer for long enough. The people are restless - they demand your voice, Minister."

"I'm well aware of that, Hilolov. However, you of all people should be well aware that they will receive my answer - not yours."

Dadajon Hilolov looked rather cross. This wasn't anything surprising - he is, seemingly, always cross, like most far-leftists are about government policy.

"We honour your nominal commitment to justice, Minister, but you simply don't go far enough," said opposition leader Anora Jurayeva in a recent press interview. "We're not children - we can do so much more than we are doing now. The One People Party pushes for fearless progress, something you just can't say about the United Socialist Party."

What a fool, thought Zakir Yahyayev, the Minister of State. She simply doesn't see the burden of trying to keep such a large and diverse party from falling apart - who knows what would happen if it did? Without the United Socialist Party, the Republican Assembly would be easy pickings for radical parties like the OPP. He shuddered at the thought. What would happen then?

The voice of an aide brought him back to reality. "The reports, Minister. I've placed them on your desk." Good, anything to get away from his ever-helpful Minister of Economics. "We all expect you to make the right decision," said minister adds. "State corporations are standing by, waiting to bring wealth to be shared by the Magekite people."

Yahyayev takes a seat at his desk and begins flipping through the reports. "Very significant deposits, you say?.."

Then it is decided - the decision would be postponed. Numbers may tell one story, but it is the hearts of the people that make them worthwhile. He shall call a party meeting to try and find consensus, which should give him more than enough time time to observe the situation further.

[Roendavar]

15th of January, 2020
8:30
Valrius Castle, Eire City, Andavar, Roendavar

The sun rose at the city of Eire, bathing its medieval beauty in a calm glow. It was built over an island surrounded by all sides by the River Xalendrei which emptied into the Oromanthus Gulf. On its western banks lie the Imperios Aragonus International Airport, the largest and one of only five airports in Roendavar. Meanwhile, the ruling family of Eire, the Vladirai, lived in Valrius Castle located northwest of the city on the Melchus Hills and the Protheni Nature Reserve.

The city was in a flurry of activity as delegates from all around the world arrived at the Imperios Aragonus International Airport. The TWI-ERC International Summit would be commencing at the city and it would dictate several important actions that would impact the world for years to come. All delegates were put into black electric cars and were driven to Valrius Castle kilometers away from the city.

Valrius Castle was located on top of a steep mountain surrounded by trees on all fronts. Seven towers dot the mountainside and four more castle complexes were built beside the only stone road that led up to the main castle, which in itself was magnificent. The summit was to be done at the Crater Room, a large conference room built in the shape of a crater with massive sculpted pillars towering on its sides.

At around 8:30, the summit has begun and the Roendavarian Minister of the Environment Lord Iason III Alexandros Vladirai began to speak.

"In 1958, delegates all around the world gathered here in these very walls to discuss a grave threat seeking to uproot humanity. A threat that continues to rear its head today. That is the continued destruction of our environment that does not seem to be slowing down. For half a century, we have done everything we could in order to slow it down and we have, to some degree, have succeeded. Yet, threats to this continue to grow today."

"We are all gathered here to discuss the issue regarding the Southpaw Atoll. As most of you know, Southpaw Atoll is one of the most ecologically sensitive and important places in the Western Isles. It is home to most of the world's biodiversity and is a haven for all animals. However, it has also been discovered that massive deposits of oil and natural gas lie beneath the coral reefs and atolls."

"This is a grave situation. The Southpaw Atoll lies in international waters and it is fair game to any country that wishes to capitalize on it. We have already received reports from several parties expressing their interest in the exploration and exploitation of the resources beneath. That is why we must take a united stand on this. We must decide on the actions we have to take and to advise our respective governments."

"If there are any suggestions or statements on the matter, the floor is now open."

Duke of Tillanora and Lord Teofilius Athramon Grecien made his way to the center of the room. The current president of The Western Isles Environmental Research and Conservation Commission, it was only natural that he would speak on the current matter. TWI-ERC has been the most vocal over the Southpaw Atoll, criticizing the Roendavarian government publicly for not taking a stand while launching a campaign against countries that have oil companies.

"I have something to say. Southpaw Atoll is an important area for biodiversity and ecology. TWI-ERC's position on the matter remains unchanged. We condemn any notion of exploitation and we dare not to speak of the damage of even exploring the area. Any human activity in the area is detrimental to the survival of Southpaw Atoll and the thousands of species that call it their home.

"What all these greedy companies and capitalists cannot see is that their constant need to fill their pockets is slowly killing our planet. Now, they have set their sites on a spot of nature that remains untarnished and they cannot compel themselves to not destroy it for the sake of money. This is unacceptable. Any notion of exploitation is unacceptable."

Therefore, TWI-ERC proposes to implore the League to take action and to take over the administration of Southpaw Atoll. Southpaw Atoll must be protected and overseen by non-governmental organizations that do not seek profit, to which, TWI-ERC is one of them. Southpaw Atoll, and the surrounding Great Coral Reef, must also be put under a no-sail zone as well as an extra protective zone of 10 nautical miles that extends from the reef's outer edges. That is all." Teofilius returned to his seat.

"The next speaker may come forward."

[Ostehaar]

Such an old place, Dehna thought. She never liked these ancient, dying pieces of history. She strode down the hall from the main conference hall of Valrius Castle and reached into her pocket for the phone. It started ringing as she pulled it out, to her surprise.

"What a coincidence," she said, "I was just going to call you."

The voice across the line chuckled. "Good day to you too," He replied. It was Teri Dahn - a former case-officer in Ostehaar's economic espionage service, and a senior "adviser" to the head of the Oster nuclear industry for over a decade. "Are they there?" He asked in his deep, slow paced voice.

"I'm not sure. I've seen Teo and some of his staff, but not someone I know." She took the stairs down to the lower sections of the castle. "And Johan informed me that they had no information from Areci Avenue."

"That's a shame," Teri exhaled loudly. "Who did they send from ours?"

"Sara."

Teri coughed. "Sara!" He cleared his throat, "Not a good choice. I'm surprised they did it anyway."

"It's an environmentalist's meeting... They sent an environmentalist, Teri."

Sara, a single mother in her 50's, was the manager of the Oster delegation to the summit, and a former ERC activist herself. Her perceived failure to represent Ostehaar's interests in the Sawneeak issue made her a target for some criticism among leading Oster conservation activists. With her in the conference room was Deputy Minister of Environmental Protection Fin Gebrokh, Ostehaar's Chief Delegate. They were not given much maneuvering space from the Prime Minister and were instructed to keep a low profile.

"Anyway," Dehna said, "I've met an IPNO lobbyist earlier. He agreed that a meeting with the Roendavarian League office was a good option. That could give them a reason to start pushing things in the assembly."

Teri exhaled dismissively. "The League is too slow. It's good for the long-term stabilization efforts. Corporations move faster... I can assure you they already have people on the ground measuring depth and wind speed. Who's the IPNO guy?"

"Some... Michael, maybe? Not an official."

"Not official is good," Teri replied, "I can use it to start throwing words like deniability around."

"You're running too fast."

"Time is critical here," he said. "I'll call the I.D. and ask our office to coordinate something with the Roendavarians. Wait there and catch them as they leave the room for a break. Raise the issue of unaffiliated assets. I'll never get formal permission here without it."

Dehna sneered. "Formal permission! Who are you and what have you done to Teri?"

"Ah," he nodded to himself, "different times."

[Almorea]

Avennan Estate, in rural Talavora province
$45 million property of the Almorean Oil Consortium

At the Avennan Estate, the rooms tended to be big. The farther away from the outside you got within the estate's stately residence, the bigger the rooms became, and the less stucco and whitewash you saw- in the mansion's cavernous central reception hall, the walls were made of lacquered wood inlaid with gold. The last Avennan heiress had died in the 1970s, and in no time the Consortium had swept in and snapped the whole place up.

Peter Laurent, the executive vice president of the Consortium, was pretty sure that the Avennan family had built up its fortune in the whaling trade, but his memory was a little fuzzy. At any rate, he thought oil-drilling was far preferable to killing whales, no matter how much the environmentalists howled. Laurent was fat and jovial, rather like a lovable uncle, but a decade at the top of Almorea's largest company had taught him how to strut like Napoleon Bonaparte and, when crossed, scream like a drill sergeant. Under his own weight, he sank deeply into his armchair.

Across the parquet floor of the reception hall sat none other than Kirk Thurson, the Secretary of State and the nation's top diplomat. Three cigar stubs lay smoldering in his ashtray.

"I told the media I was going on vacation," Thurson had told Laurent as he climbed the steps of the Avennan house. The two men, both a little anxious, had shared a good laugh.

Of course, nobody except a select group knew where the Secretary of State actually was. To find him smoking cigars and sipping brandy with one of the Consortium's top executives would excite a big scandal, very dangerous in an election year.

Laurent sat flanked by a collection of suits, like any respectable corporate boss. One was his secretary, and others were liasons, "consultants", and "fixers", but none of them smoked or drank. Thurson couldn't help but feel a little intimidated as the brandy washed down his throat, even though he had brought his own team- one of the president's security advisers, a note-taker, and three guards.

After light conversation, Laurent extinguished his cigar and set the brandy down. He leaned forward and looked at Thurson intently.

"Well, Mr. Secretary, let's get down to business."

---

---

Laurent and Thurson talked for an hour, trading jokes and anecdotes, and calling for maps and charts to be spread on the table between them; there was a map of the Southpaw Atoll, another of the Great Coral Reef, and a collection of diplomatic briefing papers. Laurent's "consultants" kept close watch on the room's many doors to ensure none of the Avennan housekeeping staff were around.

Thurson talked energetically between long puffs of tobacco. Rubbing his fat belly, Laurent watched intently as the security aide marked up the map of the Atoll with a pen.

"Of course, Almorea must be seen to support the cause of Atoll conservation. Our IPNO ambassador, our League ambassador, and our emissaries to Roendavar and Ainslie have been instructed to take firm environmentalist stances." Thurson coughed. "This situation also extends to the ongoing TWI-ERC summit at, uh, that castle there."

Laurent asked an assistant to fetch more brandy. "Yes, Kirk, that's all very reasonable. The Consortium and the administration understand each other perfectly."

Thurson rubbed his back against the soft chair and laughed. "Do you know how many laws I'm breaking by meeting you tonight, Peter? Probably something like 17 of them." He returned to smoking his cigar, but very contemplatively, as if it were cannabis.

More brandy was poured. Laurent wagged an index finger and shifted his massive frame to rest on the edge of the chair.

"What exactly does the State Department want the Consortium to do in the Atoll? Something about... secret advance teams? And what's this I hear about giving them weapons?"

The Secretary of State grew uncomfortable. The whole scheme sounded rather corrupt coming out of Peter Laurent's mouth. Still, when the President got a scheme into his head, it was tough to exorcise it- and he had been fixated on this particular one for weeks.

"Well, well. First, we'd have to send a few advisers to the Atoll, in Consortium helicopters, of course. Only to scout the area out, look for natives and other hostile groups. Specifically, erm, armed environmentalists."

Laurent flashed a wry smile. "I've been told they can be quite fanatic. And then?"

Thurson continued, gesturing with one hand while he picked up his ninth cigar with the other. "If you get the all clear, you can move right in. Employees, boats, drilling equipment, aircraft. President Hallowell will stand in front of the cameras and tell the Consortium to stop. He'll say you're endangering the environment, and that you should bow to international pressure, which you know will come, and cease your activities."

The diplomat's words grew more measured, more deliberate. "And if- maybe when, in fact, shots are fired, or somebody from the Consortium gets arrested, the Almorean government can legally step in and protect its business interests."

Laurent shifted himself back into the chair and nodded. The security aide grimaced. He knew what he was doing was shady at best, and probably illegal. His boss clearly knew it, too.

"Mmmm. A classic win-win situation. You fellows in Ellsburgh really set this one up nicely." He sipped some brandy. "Have you got anything more for me tonight than a broad sketch of the plan?"

Thurson motioned to his aide, who fumbled in his jacket for a black binder. Rain had begun to lash the windows facing the inner courtyard outside.

"I'd bring that back to the Consortium, and I'd also be damn careful with it. That thing, you know, is an action plan, but it goes into specifics. Any leaks and-" Thurson spread his hands to indicate an explosion- "it all goes up in smoke." He returned for a minute to his cigar, and for a moment the room settled into silence. "Speaking broadly, the President envisions that you'd send the first consultants out to the Atoll at the end of February, and you and I would meet again around Easter to discuss our next steps."

Laurent handed the binder to one of his secretaries. "I'll treat it as if it were my own baby." The two men, diplomat and board member, rose and clasped hands. The rain was loud now, and the wind blew against the walls as if it wanted to knock them right over. A superstitious man, Thurson pinched his collar and wondered what the press might think.

Back in his SUV twenty minutes later, he tapped the note-taker on the shoulder and handed her a lighter.

"Burn the notes when we get back."

[Ainslie]

Preserve/Profit | Summit #1
4:20pm - 17 January 2020
Eire, Roendavar


Willem looked around as the various different bureaucrats sat in a relative silence. He moved his head towards the TWI-ERC delegate whose eyes were locked onto him. Maybe that was because the delegate meant to be representing what is just about the region’s leading conservation organisation was sitting around twiddling his thumbs meekly trying to avoid setting the tone for the meeting. That’s exactly what was happening - and it was Willem’s problem to deal with.

He sat there for a few more minutes, trying to absorb the atmosphere. There was nothing to absorb - it was dead - hopeless perhaps. He knew he wasn’t a hero, but this wasn’t what the environmentalist movement was like. This was the third and last day though… everyone should be hyped by now - not like this…, he thought to himself

“We haven’t lost yet”, he began, standing up in a manner which had surprised virtually everyone in the room.

“We know the environmentalist movement is strong in the Isles. We must take heart and reflect on the fact that the Atoll actually is not a direct strategic resources for anyone.”

“Unless it’s strategic because of its’ resources, greenie boy”, one of the Henrites attending the meeting interjected.

“Yes. We must remove that incentive in order to win this battle. The business community is licking their lips to profit off of this but we know there are businesses - governments even - who are at least saddened by an outcome with is incongruent to our objectives. It is these people we must appeal to. Willem paused for a minute ,taking a brief check of who was in the room, before he noticed a group of five people that he was certain were from Auriga - a private military corporation. He continued…

“However, our actions will define our outcomes. If we are violent or extreme in our response we indirectly demand for an act in proportion or if IPNO’s experts are correct, a disproportional response to such a measure.”

“IPNO has teams across the Isles seeking to ascertain the opinions of governments to formulate the best response we can to the developments at hand.”

At this moment, the group of Henrites became more visibly uncomfortable amongst some other groups of people who were present. Willem slowed himself down as he concluded his speech, before sitting down.

“Yes solutions are what we need - perhaps though, the IPNO are being far more cautious than they should be”, one largely unknown aide stated in a Scantarbian accent.

Willem tensed up as he listened to the comment. He knew that the “enviro idiots” were outlasted by organisations such as him by decades and their existence relies on IPNO’s steadiness in sustaining the environmentalist movement.

He lent back into his microphone, giving some level of response to the Scantarbian.

“It is our opinion that an inclusive approach is the one most necessary - get governments on our side and changes start to happen.”, Willem stated.

The Scantarbian shrugged in response and returned back to his notes, whilst Willem noticed some of the Henrites giving off a sly smile.