NationStates

They knew her as the Sun Goddess, or the Eyuka’J’ai Thasal’Tha as she was called in their unique and strange tongue. Her will was that of the stars themselves, and within her soft pair of innocent, shimmering brown eyes lay a savage power nonpareil amongst the nations of man. Ten billion persons bowed their heads in complete and utter obeisance to her, their mistress of heaven, the wave of whose hands could conjure waves of fanatical Zeikla Guardsmen, sash sporting warriors with skills honed in the most savage of colonial conflicts. She was the crown jewel of the Su’ayuka K'tozza Karod'tza, the Yalottskii Empire.

Her fanatical soldiers brushed through dense jungle grove, scaled perilous mountains, bitterly struggled against savages of all shapes and creeds. Her fleets sailed in every sea, her colonial officers spoke every language, her allies spanned every great region on earth. For, in the eyes of her people, she was the Empress of all that there was, and all that ever would be. They rose her banner across exotic, foreign lands she had never heard of, forged alliances with unknown kingdoms. Built railroads, colonies, cities, and all else in their love of motherland and mother empress.

The great nations of Ganosia, Ghant, and Nihon stood as her proud allies in the winds of time, shaping destiny by the combined forces of arms and dedication. Their combined zeal in eliminating the scourges of communism, fascism, totalitarianism left no corner of the world safe from her vengeful wrath. And without hesitation, her ministers of finance, war, and governance obeyed her commands swiftly without delay or question, not daring to defy or incur the wrath of her imperial majesty. Already she had earned herself the title "K'tozza Slavhskta," Empire slayer.

And she was not yet fourteen.

* * *

Clouds gently flitted over the land of Yalottska, unheard and undisturbed by all who inhabited this earth, only seen. They swayed in a gentle manner, an epic ballet of epic proportions, too slow for men to grasp the true beauty of. It was as though the pain of mankind, the wars, famines and acts of brutality that men inflict upon one another in petty anger and rage, were beneath them, trivial. The busy city of Ju’tozzo was forever buzzing, roaring with life and excitement, but the clouds moved as they always had, unimpeded.

But little Princess Kenna gazed in gentle, simple awe at this celestial dance, her large, brown eyes widened in a perpetual look of joy as she lazily lay upon her back, her arms and fingers outstretched. And for these moments, she cared not that her dress was getting soiled, or that she would likely be scolded by her governess the moment she went back home; she wanted nothing more than to pluck these heavenly masses and eagerly shove them into her outstretched mouth like one might consume a clump of cotton-candy.

Water features and tiny bridges, many almost as old as history itself, adorned the historic Imperial garden of the holy, imperial city of Ju’tozzo. Lush groves of beautiful bushes and the pale white softness of the cherry blossom made for a canvas of beauty unmatched anywhere else on earth. Those fortunate enough to gaze at its sacred groves likened it to “Nama Tora Ke’koa,” or Heaven on Earth. So much history, so much natural beauty, so many pieces of fine engravings and stone work and yet the girl was interested in the clouds.

Kenna had, upon her infantile shoulders, the burden of an entire nation. She was a symbol of millions of faithful Yalottskii, most of whom absolutely adored, and many who would die for, her. She was more than a monarch; she was the hope of a people overcoming the tragedy of the past century of persecution and torment. But even she was human, had basic, childish notions of fun and joy. Even she, beneath her well-rehearsed photo shoots and appearances in formal attire and meticulous makeup, enjoyed the simpler joys of life.

When the strain of her responsibilities ever felt to be too much for her to bear, Kenna simply went to the garden, alone, to gaze deep into the sky. And though she did not know its name and could not see its face, the sky in its boundless freedom became Kenna's great lover, something--someone she could always love unconditionally. Rain or shine, pelting hail or torrid heat, she could never find fault in the world above our own. She could only lie, dumbfounded, with wonder.

How was it that she could be so powerful...and yet so powerless?

“Kenna !” It was her governess, Jakataii. “Kenna ! Where are you? You’ll be late!”

Kenna was suddenly hoisted from her serene daydream, back into the real world where she felt the gentle grass pressed against her back and the dart upon her arms and legs. Her governess was frantically pacing the garden, calling her name repeatedly in an effort to rally the girl into action.

“Kenna ! Kenna !”

“I’m coming, Jakataii,” Kenna cried back, sitting up.

* * *

Kenna was having her body touched, painted, and sculpted by a veritable army of craftsmen, painters, and fashion designers flown in from the far corners of the earth. They want after her with untamed ferocity, setting about to their work without considering the humanity or flesh of their subject; they had been hired to regard her as a piece of art, and so they did. No inch of her body, no sliver of skin or flesh was left uncoated or unpowdered. She imagined herself a massive, breathing canvas, a unique art experiment for them all.

When she stood, she felt the tremendous pressure of hundreds of gold trinkets hanging off her body, and only through years of careful, meticulous training was she able to navigate her way through the palace corridors gracefully in her cumbersome, garish costume. Upon her head, a fearsome sculpture of the Huaneattennii Hound, guardian of the Yalottskii people, had been carved from marble and set ever so carefully upon her head. Her blue silken garments flowed gently around her dainty feet as the jingling of so much gold trickled down the halls.

Today, naturally, was an important day for both her and the empire. In actuality, she had no real power; that was left up to the prime minister, Ayamai Ku'zzoakeitta, who was a firm believer in high taxes, high spending, and bellicose foreign policy. She was truly the leading factor of the Empire's success, but that mattered little. Ayamai Ku'zzoakeitta was content enough to see the Empire prosper and grow, and so it did. And so she micromanaged and planned every moment of Kenna's life, including this day itself, where Kenna would have her coming of age ceremony. This would represent, for the Empire, the legitimization of their Empress and thus Ayamai's permanent appointment.

On a Yalottskii woman's fourteenth birthday, she is given her true name, and told to cast off the name she once went by. Kenna would, in the presence of the nation's many allies and colonial subjects, kneel before the great Fire-dancers, prophets of the Feyaissii faith and humbly submit to have her name, and thus her identity, shaped for the rest of her life. Understandably, as she stepped before the mighty host assembled, she felt somewhat intimidated, and her legs shook with anticipation with each step she took.

She was nearing the altar...



"Do you, Kenna Yunskathatta, abide by the ways of your forefathers, pledge to uphold the Yalottskii tongue and worship the Feyaissite faith? To submit yourself to the needs of your people and to do what you must in the way of Thasal'tha, the Sun and God? Do you Swear to put the great nation of Yalottska, and her interests, before your own and lay your selfishness before the Empire so that it may prosper and survive?"

"I do," Kenna nodded.

Zkaiboto Kennoskii, the head Fire Dancer, glared deep into her eyes for every moments as his crown of flame flickered. Every breath was bated as his soul reached for the name of his great next Emperor. Kenna stopped breathing, eager, anticipating what was about to happen.

"You are beautiful, like the moon itself, gracing those around you with your compassion and simplicity," he began to mumble. "You have demonstrated a great level of maturity and emotional intelligence in matters regarding the state and power relations. You have submitted yourself to responsibilities without perks, and have shown that you are capable of great sacrifice."

Kenna continued to kneel, hardly daring to look up.

"Like the moon itself, you are. And which is why I have chosen for you, the name, Syuoka!"

And so it was. Kenna was dead and Syuoka had been born in her stead. And nothing would be the same.



Syuoka had no time to change into less formal attire before the reception began and she was forced to meet and greet her well-wishers, guests, and good friends in this event. Naturally, she had to bear and grin despite being tired, exhausted, anxious, and entirely sweaty. She also had to get used to her new name which felt like a mismatched glove. She simply wasn't used to it yet; it had after all, only been a few minutes, and she could not be expected to adapt so quickly.

She was moving to greet the next throng of guests, some Sultans from her Arabic colonies, when she overheard the Prime Minister, Ayamai Ku'zzoakeitta, and Yupik Manikatskii, the head of the nation's notorious special forces, hissing at one another. Curious, she stopped for a few moments, feigning a wave at some passerby when she overheard their rapid, angry chatter.

"Yes, I assure you that the Vhong'kai rebels have been amassing on the southern borders of Vykkoshkatt province," Manikatskii hissed. "The Ven'tukoi socialists have likely made a pact with them, and we stand to lose the southern jungles of our nation if we don't deploy counter-terror units immediately."

"I will not have you deploying our already-stretched-thin military forces on a wild goose hunt!" She sipped from her glace, glanced around her, and continued. "The Ve'ntukoi fell apart when I had their ring-leader, Svovakta, sent to the gulags. They no longer have a powerful leader to rally behind!"

"There are...rumors....of a new leader" Mainikatskii hesitantly relayed. "They called him Selos Manikato, the Devil of Righteousness." Their forces have been slowly amassing behind his banner, slowly but steadily."

But before Syuoka could hear more, she was greeted by just the person she wanted to see.

***

╬ Litonum IV, Aurolatrian Ambassador to the Yalottskii Empire ╬

"...why I have chosen for you, the name, Syuoka!"

Litonum squinted a bit and looked down, thinking hard abour how to pronounce her new name correctly. He knew that the Fire Dancer had justed recited it in a loud fashion for him to hear, but Yalottskii names were just too complex to say correctly the first time.

Christ Almighty. What a mouthful. I can always count on the bloody Yalottskii to trip me up with their names. Se yo- no... See yu oh kah. Got it.

Litonum clapped respectfully with the rest of the crowd after a few seconds passed, and Kenna rose from the ground as Syuoka. The room of which this ordeal was taking place was massive in size and grand in design, fitting hundreds of people inside, from Arabic Sultans to local Yalottskii nobility. It was a fine scene, really, as the reception began, the mood lightened, and people began to mingle and show off their expensive coats and dresses. Litonum, characterised as a simple man, was quite simply wearing a high end suit and some dress trousers.

Simple in his interactions, but keen in the mind, and smart when it came to political maneouvres. That was probably the only way in which Litonum would describe himself. Others tended to call him a snake, a troll, and/or a smartass. The ambassador was known around the Yalottskii Court for cornering people that he didn't like and forcing them to give him what he needed. He did this through use of the large and extremely well connected Aurolatrian Intelligence Agency. Truly, there wasn't a thing that went on in the court that Litonum didn't know about.

Recently, after a long period of boring nothingness in the court, the ambassador was informed of a rebellion in within Yalottska's own borders. Two rebel groups have been recently amassing outside a certain jungle ridden province. This information had come straight down from where it was happening, an AIA agent in a town near the zone where the rebels were amassing. The agent had also added that there was very little military presence in the vicinity, and that the rebels could probably overrun the province within weeks, with properly coordinated attacks without any hassle from other forces.

Ambassador Litonum stood up from his seat, finally, and began looking for a specific guy. The Head of the Air Forces for the Yalottskii Empire. Litonum hadn't worked or talked much with the man before, but they did find themselves involved in the same group conversations quite often. Although he knew him enough to be able to determine his personality type, he didn't know if he would have to push Pokuii hard to get what he wanted, or sort of ease him into it, like he did with most others. Litonum would propose a joint air campaign with him, but only if Syuoka herself signed a letter authorising Aurolatrian oil companies to drill in Yalottskan territories, and also agreed to coordinate with him on a future trade deal between the two nations.The former would probably be something that Senyaukka would highly resent Litonum for.

The Snake slithered his way through the crowd of people, looking for Pokuii's face, but was struggling. For a brief moment, Syuoka and Litonum made eye contact. Putting one arm behind his back, and one hand on the hilt of his sword, he bowed in her direction. He wasn't sure if she had done anything in return or had even seen him bow, because she was engaged in a conversation with someone else at the moment. After making his way through what he swore was a hundred people, he finally met eye to eye with Pokuii Shukitzo. Or rather, he bumped straight into him. They both stumbled backwards a few steps, but regained balance quickly.

"Sorry about that, mate," Litonum said, chuckling, "perhaps I had too much to drink prior to the naming ceremony. On a serious note, though, I would like to speak with you for a brief moment. It regards the situation in Vykkoshkatt."

~~Shukitzo~~

Pokuii Shukitzo gave off the impression that he neither ate nor exercised. Thin as a stick and perpetually emaciated, many of Shukitzo’s peers wondered how such a physically inept man had risen to such a position of prominence over the Khen’mekki’s airforces. He was, after all, not exactly a man who radiated confidence, efficiency or power. Pokuii was just a spectacled man with soft messy hair and a suit that was clearly too large for his frame. If anything, one might’ve imagined him to be a professor of poetry and the classics--not war.

But despite his external appearances, those who knew him remembered him as the valiant young aviator who led daring bombing raids deep within the heart of socialist territory during the brutal civil war. He had been a hero, then, with a thousand black-and-white photos in the history books as testament to his prestigious record of death-defying attack runs and aerial stunts. He never boasted or bragged about his exploits, as many of his calibre were wont to do, but instead spoke only when spoken to in his soft, wise silky voice.

"Oh, yes, hello," Pokuii smiled genially, gently setting his glass upon one of the nearby mahogany tables. "Litonum, is it?"



~~Senyaukka~~

The significance of the ancient and unshatterable Ganosian-Yalottskii alliance was not lost upon Senyaukka who, initially mildly annoyed with being interrupted, suddenly smiled and greeted his Ganosian counterpart with great enthusiasm. Senyaukka was a well-dressed man with a clean-shaven face and a well-tailored, ironed suit. Eagerly taking Siegfried's hand, he excused himself from his former company, focusing his attentions on the Ganosian.

"Of course, of course. It's quite the honor to have you here, Mr. Verner. We were, naturally, anxious to see if you'd make it on time." He called over a waiter, and whispered into the man's ear. "

And now, chop chop, Simuun," he berated the waiter. "Come then, our guest doesn't have all day, you know!" Turning back to Siegfried, he explained, "we have a hidden stash of the best Yalottskii tea. Come then, would you like to move to a more secure and private location to speak? I have had a conference room prepared for this occurrence."



~~Kkennaii~~

Kennshoui Kkennaii, who had been talking with Senyaukka just moments earlier, was locked in an intense conversation about the Vong'khai when he was approached by Mr. Heathborn. As he motioned wildly, shouting about how the Vong'khai were puddles of ooze, he held the attention of several guests and officials though his animated movements and powerful gestures. Kkennaaii was known as the "story teller" of the court for his expressiveness and long-abandoned dreams of acting on the big-screen.

When Daniel moved in to speak to him, he had been in a lull in his story regardless. Setting his plate of scented dates aside, he nodded understandingly, and motioned for Daniel to follow him, clearing his throat once or twice.

"It's nice to speak to you, Mr. Heathborn," Kkennaii said in a deep, rich, baritone voice. "We've had very little interaction with your nation, truly, and it's very nice to have the opportunity to speak to you at this time. What is it, friend, that you would like to discuss at this time?"



~~Syuoka~~

Syuoka spotted Charles and Amelia before she was approached by the powerful and awe-inspiring Takeda Daisuke. While she yearned strongly to speak to the two persons of her own age that were present, she nonetheless understood the importance of being cordial and gracious, especially towards men of such eminence. She was, after all, a diplomat above all, and couldn't afford to be selfish or hasty. It would do well if she could earn the favor or blessing of the General, and she sought to do so.

"General Takeda," Syuoka smiled, humbled by this great man's own humility. "Thank you for gracing us here today with your presence. Indeed, it is an honor that you could take the time out of your day to be present at my simple naming ceremony." She nodded, as if to offer him permission to stand erect. It felt strange for her to issue orders to older and more powerful men, but she knew that the formalities came first.

"We Yalottskii eagerly anticipated your arrival," she spoke with a voice beyond her years. "And the arrival of the Nihonese delegation means ever-so much to us, especially given the presence of such a man as yourself. Please, do not continue to bow--we are in friendly company here."

Before Syuoka could continue, Ayamai Ku'zzoakeitta, the President of the Yalottskii nation, appeared and offered her hand to the Nihonese officer. Naturally, she was the true leader of Yalottska, and unflinchingly introduced herself to the Nihonese general now that his formal greeting was over. She well knew that he would want to discuss some weightier, more significant matters of state after the formalities were out of the way.

"Your words were very kind, General Daisuke," she extended her hand. "Come, would you like to talk now? I think we may have some issues to discuss."



With Daisuke now in dialogue with the President, Syuoka could now receive the two Ghantish siblings, which she did eagerly. It wasn't every day that she was permitted to speak to those of her own age, and least of all, not even on her own naming ceremony. Most Yalottskii girls would be giggling with their friends and eating scorpion sticks by now--but not Syuoka. She had to receive a never-ending wave of well-wishers and politicians.

It didn't matter that she barely knew them, or that they had only met once before. To Syuoka, these two were her only key into the world of childish amusement and innocence of which she had been denied her whole life. And that was enough to get her heart-racing and put a smile upon her lips. They could've been Vong'khai for all she cared, and she would've still been happy to see them.

And then Charles spoke... and she wasn't entirely certain of how to respond.

"Wow...thank you," she blushed ever-so-slightly, not entirely sure of how to take his compliment. "That was very...sweet of you." But then moving as to change the subject and dispel the awkward silence, she quickly asked a question. "It must be quite the distance from Ghant. How are you liking it here in my country?"



~~In The Shadows...~~

As Enki lay in the side alley of the palace alleys, a small truck careened in from the side--a delivery truck. Except, there was something entirely strange about this delivery truck because, as the palace guard passed around the corner, a small group of seven men slipped out of the back with strange bulges in their jackets. They placed masks over their faces, and moved to enter the pot-hole, unaware that anybody could see them.

They slipped into the pothole, one after another. The last, glancing around nervously, failed to spot Enki and revealed his Psenkataii battlerifle in the tension of the moment, accidentally dropping it. As he bent down to pick it up, he cursed, slipped into the hole, and slowly slid the lid shut above himself.

***

OOC: If you would please take a clear look at the title, you'll see that this thread is Semi-Open. This implies that some form of communication would've been expected on your part before posting. As such, you do not have my permission to post in here.

Regardless, it's doubtful that my nation would've even invited a delegation from a clearly hostile nation, let alone let them anywhere near her royal majesty without first going through the proper formalities. Further more, a diplomatic function is no place to wrangle a causi belli or convoluted justification for sanctions. That's just unrealistic and actually rather stupid (no offense.)

In fact, if your characters did what they did, my nation would've been in complete rights to expel your delegation from the proceedings entirely with little or few diplomatic repercussions, save from your own nation, perhaps.

As it stands, the WA isn't a significant influence in mainstream MT, nor does anybody truly acknowledge its authority or even existence in MT RP on nationstates. The WA is nothing more than a game-side institution that doesn't apply or have any hold over the RP forums. We are not obligated to recognize its existence, in short.

Now, I'm willing to let you continue to post here, but you must communicate with me first, express your IC goals and intentions for this RP more clearly, get my approval to post, and abide by basic rules of RP etiquette and realism standards. My TG box is always open to your questions, comments, and concerns, but until you have received my express approval to do so, you are hereby prohibited from posting in this thread.

Just for clarification, Eyuka Syuoka is not "in charge," for future reference. It's widely and commonly known that she is a figure-head monarch abroad, which I actually addressed in my opening-post. She wields absolutely no political power, and your ambassador should have and would have known this if you had TGed me in advance and/or read my factbook which is located here.

~~Senyaukka~~

Senyaukka set the boiling pot of tea aside, basking in the strong scent of chamomile as it wafted into his eager nostrils. Closing his eyes in appreciative silence, he beamed widely and nodded to himself twice, as if affirming that indeed the tea was spectacular; it was, after all, from an unearth stock more than three centuries old, with aged teas discovered in an air-tight container in the depths of the Yalottskii desert.

Having poured a small cup for his Ganosian guest, Senyaukka proceeded to raise the tea to his lips and blow on it furiously in an attempt to cool it down. Even the Yalottskii, who took their tea boiling hot daily, were not used to scalding hot water dribbling down their throats. Sighing, Senyaukka put the tea aside for a few moments, quietly gathering himself and collecting his thoughts before speaking.

“Well, then,” he smiled, cracking his knuckles simply, “I suppose you must’ve been sent by your government to affirm that, despite this shift in the balance of power, the long-standing Yalottskii-Ganosian alliance still remains firm and strong.” He sipped his tea slowly now that it had cooled sufficiently, whilst keeping his eye on the Ganosian man sitting across the table. He took a moment to gauge the man’s reactions before continuing.

“And as a representative of the Ayamai administration,” he muttered as he replaced the cup on its saucer “I’d like to say that, if this is your intent, we are more than willing to maintain and perhaps even expand and nurture this historic union between our two nations. Ku’zzoateia is very interested in maintaining the strategic partnership between our nations.”



~~Syuoka~~

“It was the heaviest thing in the world,” Syuoka silently admitted, glancing about herself as if ashamed to admit it. “My neck could barely stand the strain.” She was quite glad that she no longer had to wear the heavy monstrosity, and her neck beat out in pain simply thinking about it.

“Of course, I suppose you must call me Syuoka, now,” Syuoka replied cooly. “It’s Yalottskii tradition. My identity as a little girl is now lost, and I am now to ascend into woman-hood. I don’t imagine that I’ll find it easy to transition to having, of all things, a brand new name,” she chuckled, “but I’ll have to get used to the sensation sooner or later. After all, Yalottskii women have been receiving new names for centuries. I’ll have to simply grow to accept it.” Her eyes, however, reflected shimmering pools of doubt.

Noticing the kindly old Apostolic Legate waiting his turn, Syuoka gave the two Ghantish children a rueful smile. She would have to continue this chat later.

“We must catch up after the formalities,” Syuoka apologized, “but I must continue chatting with my well-wishers. But please do help yourselves to the refreshments. I promise to meet with you later--just leave the location of your accommodations with one of the Kojuts* and I’ll arrange to meet you as soon as possible.”

*Yalottskii slave-guards, generally castrated and indoctrinated from birth, raised to be the optimal guardians for the Yalottskii Empresses.

“And how are you, Mr Howe?” Syuoka grinned, bowing before the elderly man. Despite having just participated in a pagan ritual characteristic of her people, Syuoka was a practicing Catholic, though for sake of consistency, she couldn’t worship in public, and was forced to hide her faith. “I’m honored that you took the time to come witness this simple ritual. How is the Yalottskii summer-heat treating you?”



~~Elsewhere~~

The Vong’khai militants worked their ways through the palace’s underground tunnels networks without delay, hesitation or pause. Clearly, they knew these tunnels like they might their own lands, and their movements carried the knowledge of a trained band of fanatical, professional warriors. In the name of national liberation, freedom, and liberalization, these men fought and devoted their sweat and tears.

Their eyes carried the flame of righteous anger--anger against the highly repressive order that the Eyukate stood for. An order that still permitted the de facto practice of slavery, an order that abandoned the poor of its nation to perpetual starvation and squalor. An order that taxed the poor to fund a massive army that was used to oppress the same poor. And with every defy movement, their convictions were shown to be unwavering and found.

Soon, they assembled in the palace laundry rooms whereupon the front man took a bolt-cutter and snapped his way through the thin grate. A Kojut guard happened to chance upon the party, but they quickly came upon the man, muffling his terrified screams as they slit his throat, watching the blood stream from his neck and condense on the floor.

~~Kheikvokt Shennatskii~~

Kheikvokt Shennatskii was a burly man with a grand handle-bar mustache that obscured the better part of his tanned face. A seasoned veteran of a thousand campaigns, the military man prided himself on the vast assortment of metals, Yalottskii and foreign, that adorned his khaki uniform. They had gotten to the extent that one could hear him coming from several hundred meters away, as they would jingle like so many hundreds of chimes, earning him the nickname “the gong of Yalottska.” A jagged scar ran over his left eye, which he affectionately referred to as “Kyuoka,” after his late wife.

Kheikvokt smiled gaily, sipped his cider, and made pleasantries in his present company--currently a small crowd of Yalottskii industrialists--but there were a few guests of interest in particular he was very interested in coming into contact with tonight. Catching one of them in his hawkish eye, he excused himself and slowly waded his way through the throngs of well-wishers, nobles, and foreign dignitaries, excusing himself for his bulk and clumsiness.

“Pardon me..” he muttered, passing between a pair of lovers preparing to lock themselves in an amorous embrace. “If you’ll excuse me...” he shoved his way through a small noble family posing for a picture. “I’m just coming through...” he winced, squeezing in the tight gap between two groups of foreign colonial governors. He was, clearly, not a man of finesse or tact. As in all things, he demonstrated a willingness to use brute-force and directness when it came to navigating the crowded banquet hall. Anybody could see that.

“Pri’ahanaii,” Hello he called out the moment he was within clear earshot of his target. “Count Numir, is it? Do you have a moment? I would very much like to have a word, if you aren’t presently occupied.”



~~Ayamai Ku’zzoakeitta~~

President Ku'zzoakeitta smiled and simply beckoned the General to follow her to a small back area that had been prepared for such high-level diplomatic talks. She was a woman of few words, and she preferred to keep it that way. Waiting patiently for her guest and his retinue to situate themselves, she nodded affirmatively towards him, before speaking.

“Thank you for your time and energy, General Daisuke,” she began. “I understand that your journey from Nihon must’ve been tiring and long. I do hope that you are presently in good health, then.” She watched as the palace-Kojut poured a small glass for the President and her guest.

“I do wish to speak with you about a certain situation arising in the Yalottskii nation.” She slipped silently and slowly before carrying on. “Doubtless you know about the current situation in Vykkoshkatt. You do, after all, have a reputation for being well-informed and connected. So I don’t believe a complicated or in-depth analysis or briefing is required. But let me give one, regardless, just to ensure that we’re on the same page.”

“Thousands of angry socialists have assembled and taken arms against the Yalottskii state.” Ayamai sighed. “And the situation looks somewhat grim, if I may be honest. Defeating them militarily isn’t a major issue; we have superior firepower, equipment and numbers; we could certainly win a conventional fight--our army is after all trained and armed by the best,” she chuckled wryly, invoking Nihonese support in developing and training the Yalottskii military. “Unfortunately, we believe that this movement might have strong native support in the province. As such, we’re preparing ourselves for a long-term fourth generation conflict against what is effectively a non-state actor.”

“We simply wants assurances of Nihonese support against this rebel scum. I do hope that the Yalottskii-Nihonese strategic partnership is firm enough that you would see our interests as crucial as your own in this matter.” She awaited her guest’s response.



~~Shukko Senyaukka~~

“Let me cut directly to the chase, and avoid any of this chitter chatter. Is that fine with you?” Senyaukka cleared his throat before continuing. “Yalottska is in danger, presently, my friend. I don’t know if your intelligence services have yet to relay this back to you, but radical socialists in Vykkoshkatt territory have begun to arm themselves en masse. We’re, naturally, planning to send a military expedition to quash this little uprising, which should be enough. Should be.”

Senyaukka finished his tea, and his servant took the empty cup and began to refill it.

“Unfortunately, Vykkoshkatt is notorious as in it’s populated by a population that is innately sympathetic to the socialist Ven’tukuoi movement. And these socialists have aligned themselves with the Vhong’khai nationalists native to the province.” Senyaukka shook his head. “We’ve been, and I’ll admit this with no little shame, rather oppressive in the region, banning their religious practices of such gruesome human sacrifice and old customs. I still say we were justified. Regardless, they want out of the Empire. And that, my friend, simply won’t do.”

“Imagine,” Senyaukka huffed, “if we were to offer them independence! Why, it’d be a riot. Every Pokuii and Yupik would want to secede from the ancient Imperial order! The glorious continental Yalottskii empire, bound together for thousands of years by shared linguistic and political ties, now to dissolve at the whim of pathetic socialists. It’s galling, really.”

“Yalottska simply wants assurances that our Ganosian allies will, at the very least, lend financial and diplomatic support to our cause as we attempt to contain and suppress these nationalist sentiments,” Senyaukka nodded gravely. “In return, Yalottska can offer oil, passage through our canals, or whatever else it is that Ganosian needs which would merit such support.”