Coalition-Brotherhood Negotiations (Closed to Austritaria)

[Rideyah]

Diplomatic Communique
From the Councilor Peace

To the Leaders of Coalition Nations,

To preserve the rare commodity of Peace, The Brotherhood wishes to express a hand of cooperation in hopes of resolving the current political and ideological strains between us.

Despite your pre-conceived notions of us, The Brotherhood is dedicated towards peace and prosperity among humanity. The war, a matter of self defence. Conflict will simply be counter-productive to the world as a whole, and will hinder Post-War reconstruction efforts that we as an organization have been dedicated to.

As such, the Supreme Leader wishes to invite you all to the capital city of New Rideyah to conduct peaceful, diplomatic negotiation, in hopes of mending the rift.

Most Sincerely,
Katarina Meliv, Councilor of Peace

[Asirland]

Hansavda Vajrana, Head of Communications
Foreign Ministry,
Aztitva Manyavda Memorial Building,
Government Estate, Taz Boulevard,
Paharpurastraya, Asirland - 1-01-34

Jean Claude-Robert read the letter. It was a forwarded copy of an official diplomatic communique sent by the Rideyan leadership. His eyebrows rose higher and higher as his gaze travelled down the page. The woman opposite him, a tall brunette, asked, "So, Sir? What do you think? This is clearly a motion for peace. Considering our goals, these proposed negotiations fit perfectly." The Prime Minister stroked his chin pensively and replied, after a brief pause, "You're right, of course. We will be taking part in these discussions without question. However..." he paused for another moment. "...Who can represent us? Elena is up in Zardet meeting the Aranoviti representatives of the Union-State Assembly. She can't really cut short that trip."

The woman shrugged and gave the PM a questioning look. "Ah," he said. "Right. Of course, Hansavda, you'll fit perfectly. You're second in command in the Foreign Ministry after Elena. I suggest you start your preparations then. This is going to be long, exhausting and frustrating. Negotiations on the international stage always are." Hansavda smiled ever-so-slightly, getting up to leave. "Sir, I've been in politics half my life. I know."

With that, she exited the ornate office of the Prime Minister of Asirland.

*

Sarvahoth International Airport, Paharpurastraya
Hansavda was furiously typing away on her laptop, while her car was speeding down the access road that connected the civilian airport to the airfield used by the Government. To her left and right were two cars, and a formation of ten cars was in front of her car and behind it. Of course, all this was pretty unnecessary; the capital city was perhaps the safest place to be a diplomat. But the ASR demanded it. The director of the body that guarded employees who inhabited the higher echelons of the Asir Government was convinced that a shooter might pop up in front of every leader and minister there was and murder them. His paranoia was justified, seeing what had happened in Strachtenbaen and Zardet.

The car had reached the silver aircraft used by Asir delegations. It was smaller than its Presidential counterpart, of course, but was as sleek and comfortable as any first-rate airline that operated in Vanet. She settled herself in for a relatively short flight, and made herself comfortable. She plugged the charger onto her laptop and started writing her speech that she would give once she reached New Rideyah. She made a thorough analysis of the situation, reading seven or eight documents that the intelligence agency had released. She then read Kastovakian news articles and statements made by the Brotherhood. She had to be equipped with points, solid logic and a convincing narrative. Her phone pinged just then.

"Atmevraksherd, tenyerd pitrelvyer marnetsk. We tried to save him, but nothing worked." As she read the message that followed, Hansavda's heart skipped a beat. She inhaled deeply, and her exhalation was shaky. She looked outside the window, seeing the vast Keztenovye mountain range, stationary testimony to the eternity of time. It had perhaps witnessed the death of countless people. Her father's passing was perhaps just yet another. Curse those terrorists. Rot in hell. We'll make you pay...just see. The SFL will disintegrate and with it, pointless Strachtenbaen nationalism.

But emotions can't be concealed forever. She let her defenses slip and sobbed.

*

The flight had touched down on a runway somewhere in New Rideyah, and Hansavda had gotten off, completely in control of herself and her emotions. She had a job to do, and now she had no alternative but to do that well. It was all she had.

[Vaastarna]

"Ladies and Gentleman, please take your seats. We shall be commencing our descent shortly"

The captain's onboard intercom clicked off. Automatically, a host of journalists, aides and assistants began to slowly meander back to their seats, heads buried in tablets and mobile phones, thumbs working overtime as they scrolled, tapped and swiped through page after page of information. The onboard screens were running a constant stream from various television networks. The cabin crew slid their way through the passengers, politely and vainly asking that all electronic articles be turned off until such a time as the plane had landed.

Throughout the flight from Vaastarna City, Vice-President Isaac Faulkner had ensured that his personal assistants had kept the packs of journalists and others at bay. Oddly enough, this crowded flight was to be one of the few times in recent weeks when he could actually have a little time to himself. Reading the paper uninterrupted was a rare pleasure. One of his staff had even managed to find his mp3 player from home and, for the first time in...months...he was actually able to lose himself in the dulcet tones of his favourite singers. He tutted to himself when he thought what sort of world it was when one's personal assistant had been to ones home more recently than he had!

On his lap sat a clumsily opened plain brown A4 envelope, stamped 'Private and Confidential', above which was the stamp of the Office of the President. By now Faulkner had had the opportunity to read the memorandum it contained several times over. The first thing which had struck him was how bizarre it was that Ridolphi could train his staff in such a short time to sound exactly like he did. Then again, a lot of things were bizarre - after all, a month ago, Faulkner had been left to rot in a military prison. Now he was the first Vice-President of the Federal Republic of Vaastarna and entrusted with representing the fledgling Republic in its first international crisis.

Only 24 hours before he had been told to head to Rideyah, Vaastarna's House of Representatives and Senate had unanimously passed the Vaastarnan Charter of Liberties. With great ceremony and much media attention, the President had signed this landmark bill into Law, not in his office, but publicly in Independence Square. One of the articles reiterated the Republic's fundamental belief in democracy and the Brotherhood Crisis, going from embers to flames on the international stage, was to be Vaastarna's first opportunity to show its commitment to such principles to the World. So important was it to them that he, the Vice-President, had been designated to attend.

Ridolphi and Faulkner were no fools. Vaastarna, whilst a member of the Coalition opposed to the Brotherhood, did not carry the sort of clout that others, such as Geniocratics or Igoria did. The memorandum had addressed the problem - what did Vaastarna aim to achieve from involvement? Principles are all well and good, but one has to balance the books at the end of the day. One thing was clear: whilst Vaastarna recognised its position in relation to its Coalition allies, it would not be blindly led by them. Partners, not Pawns the memo had concluded.

Very well, Ridolphi old chap, Faulkner thought. Yet even the best plans go awry, do they not? With a smile, he slid the envelope into his briefcase and switched off his music. Rideyah awaits.

[Blackhalm]

Somewhere in Halmanian Airspace

Gerald Fishburn sat in a leather clad seat on board an airplane, indulging in his shrimp cocktail as he flew over Halmanian Waters, darkended to a pitch black due to the darkness of the night, the plane in which he was on board belonged to the Prime Minister, while not as elite as her majesty's it certainly was better than anything he had flown in before. All the pains of negotiation seemed to be far outweighed by the pleasure of being treated like a monarch hundreds of feet above water level. He, a slightly stocky man with a temper would be negotiating on behalf of his country, while the shier weight of this responsibility was heavy he did have the knowledge, since his job as Foreign Minister was all about diplomacy, he already communicated with leaders of other nations via telegram, so communicating with many other people of international importance shouldn't be too hard. Still, Fishburn knew this was a job better suited for the Prime Minister or Queen, something they were both not willing to put up with, so stuck Fishburn onto the job. At least he is being treated well, Gerald thought, finishing up his Shrimp cocktail. Gerald's phone vibrated in his pocket, slightly startled out of his inner-monologue he brushed his saucy fingers on the edge of the seat he knew was more expensive than his suit and reached inside his suit pocket to answer his phone.

"Enjoying the flight?" The MP said with a vaguely smug tone, relishing the fact that he wasn't the one wasting his time with religious fanatics.
"Alright, suppose." Fishburn replied calmly, holding back the pleasure of luxury.
"Got a nice plane 'ere, Phillips." He added with a slightly more playful tone.
"Funny what parliament chooses to dedicate tax payer money to. Anyway, I hope you remember what you're negotiating for." Phillips replied, quickly snapping to a more serious tone.
"I know, I know, you want that damn island to have autonomy, Lemonade or whatever the name was." Fishburn replied with a very playful tone.
"You mean, Lyseni. Listen, we may be friends but we still occupy duty to our country and I am your boss, I don't want you to take all this as a joke while you're there." Phillips responded coldly.
"Don't worry, I understand, you can count on me." Gerald said, snapping out of his playful tone.

[Rideyah]

Rideyah International Airport

Supreme Leader Kaine stood silently in the Airport's main lobby, waiting patiently for the arrival of the Asir Ambassador, Hansavda Vajrana. He had been notified that at least three of the Coalition nations were sending ambassadors to begin negotiations, but the other two where thousands of miles away. It would be quite some time before they got there. So, he decided to meet the Asir representative in person, and meet the two other delegates the next day at the location where the negotiations would be held, and where the ambassadors would stay.

Kaine didn't blame the Coalition for their rash and unwarranted behavior. Such things are expected, when something new changes the order of the world. But that doesn't mean that he was happy about it. Not angry, but disappointed and sad. He regularly prayed to the Goddess "Ellaha, guide me through these dark days. Lead me upon the right path." As he was going over things in his mind, one of his security, a member of The Black Hand, came up to him and told him that the Asir Delegate's aircraft has just arrived. Kaine thanked the man, and sent him on his way.

Several minutes later, a woman, flanked by Brotherhood Security, appeared at the top of the descending escalator, and made her way down. She seemed to be a younger women, dark haired, and carried herself well. But as she got closer, Kaine looked her in the eyes, with a slight hint of redness and puffiness, and saw nothing but tragic pain, loss, and contempt. He then deduced, that the woman had lost someone very dear to her. She got closer, and stopped a few feet in front of him, looking him over from head to toe.

"Lucian Kaine I presume," she asked in an emotionless tone. She held out her hand. Kaine took it graciously, and gave a slight bow, "Yes. And you must be Hansavda Vajrana, second in authority in your country's Foreign Affairs Department. It is a pleasure." He touched his lips to her knuckles. An aged form of courtesy, but still thoughtful. He let go of her hand, and it fell to her side. He looked into her face, and saw a very slight glimmer of amusement, but it was quickly swept aside.

"I wanted to meet you in person," said Kaine, putting his hands behind his back," and wanted to direct you to where you and your colleagues will be staying for the duration of your visit. Of course, the other two won't be here for another day, so I thought we might become acquainted."
"Thank you. I appreciate the thought," she responded.

With that, the two then left the lobby out the main door, followed by Security, and got into a limo that waited directly outside. The sky had turned a deep gray, and there was a deep chill in the air, signs that it would snow overnight. While the windows were tinted, and the sky making the world darker, the interior was brightly lit and warm compared to the outside. When the two were settled, the limo lurched forward, and went on its way to the Rideyah National Hotel. Built mainly for visiting dignitaries, and other individuals of foreign importance.

As the limo went past the gate of the Airport, Kaine decided to break the silence that lingered between the two. "I am sorry... for your loss." A sudden wave of pain went across Hansavda's face, but she still kept her composure. "How did you know" she simply asked.
"I know people," he said," I can see their eyes, and know what bothers them. I can only suspect that it was a family member."
"Yes," she said staring out the window," My father in fact. He was wounded during the attacks. The doctors couldn't save him."
"He must have meant very much to you."
"Yes... Yes he did."
"Do you hold anger to those who did the attacks, and killed him?"
"Of course. They are terrorists. They upset the peace and murder innocent people."
"And you are right to be angry at them. Such people deserve to be brought to justice. But do not let your anger consume you. It will only lead to greater problems and harm to others. Do not let your emotions remain trapped inside. It is good to cry. To laugh."

Kaine looked out the window, and saw several buildings go past, making their way through the busy streets of New Rideyah. Coincidentally, the city was built by the Kastovakians under the discret guidance of Brotherhood agents, making an official capital city for the New Order that would rise from the ashes. Several minutes, around thrity, passed, and they stopped in front of a grand building. They had arrived at the Hotel. "We are here," he simply said. Kaine looked back toward the Asir woman, and saw a single tear roll down her cheek.

Rideyah National Hotel

The driver came around, and opened the door, and the two stepped out. The weather had grown colder, and very few people were outside going about their business on foot, but the roads were fairly busy.

The Rideyah National Hotel was a grand structure. Modeled after some of the older, grand palaces and museums of the world. The two entered through the rotating doors, and into the Hotel's main lobby. When they stopped in the center of the room, Kaine turned to Hansavda. "Here I must leave you for now, as I have some important business to attend to. The staff will lead you to your room, and Security will ensure your safety." He turned to go up the lobby's grand staircase, but turned back to the Asir woman. "If you ever need anything, anything to help you through your troubles, simply ask for me. Ellaha accepts all who have troubles in their life, and helps them through it."

With that, Kaine went to the main suite of the Hotel to meet with his Inner Circle, and discuss important business, and the Asir Delegate was led to her private suite.

Later

Kaine stepped through the grand double doors of the Presidential Suite, having been opened by Black Hand security from within. Several individuals sitting around a grand dining room table stood from their seats, and saluted Kaine. “What is the status of the Blackhalm and Vaastarna ambassadors,” asked Kaine, still walking towards his seat on the far side of the table,” are they any closer to arriving?” The Chief of Staff of the Inner Circle stood. “They are still en route as we speak Supreme Leader,” he said,” they may not get here until late morning or early afternoon tomorrow.”
“And what of the other Coalition nations, have they said anything about their own Ambassadors?
“Not as of yet sir. But we do have concerning reports of a large Task force assembling off the coast of Geniocratics.”
“We can only assume then,” started Kaine while taking his seat,” that they mean to resort to full scale war if nothing goes their way.”
“I am afraid so sir.”
“*sigh*... Despite our best intentions, we are treated as a cancer that must be hit hard and fast.” Kaine stood from his seat and turned to stare out the Grand Window of the Suite.
“If it is any consolation Supreme Leader, we have still made considerable progress in our development programs. The Kastovakians had been researching the subjects, and with their research helping us, we will be able to go through with our programs.”
“That is only if things go our way,” said Kaine, staring forlornly out to the New Rideyah night skyline,” and I sincerely hope they do.”

Snow then began to fall on the city.

[The Weltenbaum]

The Letter from The Directorate

From: the Desk of Kreimhild Elise Zimonis, Director of Foreign Relations and Director of Legal Affairs for the Imperial Confederation of the Weltenbaum.

To: Lucian Kaine, Supreme Leader of the Brotherhood Dominion of Rideyah & the Government of the Brotherhood Dominion of Rideyah

Supreme Leader Kaine,
In light of the recent turmoil which has involved your nation and the Government in Exile of Kastovakia led by Viktor Vakoi, along with the risk of escalation recently presented to you, the Directorate of the Imperial Confederation of the Weltenbaum wishes to extend an olive branch to the Brotherhood. Accompanying this offer of the deescalation of hostilities initiated by the previous regimes of our nations is an invitation to treat with members of the Directory of Foreign Relations, including myself, during the upcoming conference. However, the Directory requests that this meeting occur on Welten soil, so as to differentiate it from the meeting simultaneously ongoing with the Coalition. We request the presence of the highest official available and hope that these meetings will open a new era of peace between our nations.

Electronically Signed
Kreimhild Elise Zimonis, Director of Foreign Relations and Director of Legal Affairs

[Rideyah]

From: Supreme Leader Lucian Kaine

To: Kreimhild Elise Zimonis, Director of Weltenbaum Foreign Affairs

Director Zimonis,
Let me first express my deepest gratitude to your nation for extending "the olive branch" invitation to The Brotherhood. It is certainly a warming experience to know that there are those who do not hold ill will towards us.

The Brotherhood is more than willing to send an Emissary to discuss certain matters of importance with your Directory, and hear what it is that you have to say. As such, The Councilor of The Ministry of Peace will depart for The Weltenbaum as soon as possible. I do hope, that our two states can come to a mutually beneficial agreement

Signed,
Lucian Kaine, Supreme Leader of The Brotherhood, The Dominion, and the remnants of Kastovakia

[Vaastarna]

Faulkner shook the pilots hand as he disembarked from the plane and set off up the boarding gate into the main building of the airport. The gently slowing jet engines continued to roar as he and his entourage stepped off the plane. He adjusted his tie as he moved onwards, flanked on both sides by a small hordes of aides and guards. Catching his first glimpse of Rideyah out of a small window, he noticed snow on the ground. God, snow? For some reason he imagined such a thing would be alien here, despite the climate. After trudging up the mole the party entered abruptly into the main terminal of the airport and found...nothing.

The group stopped in their tracks. Faulkner hadn't been expecting flags, bunting and military bands but he had been expecting...something. The party found themselves barged aside as the majority of the plane's occupants, commercial air passengers, hurried past them to collect their luggage and go about their business. No emissaries hurried towards them. The group of Vaastarnans were left, huddled together in an ocean of quickly dissolving human flotsam.

"This may be a stupid question," Faulkner remarked casually to no one in particular, "but they are aware that we are arriving?"

Beside him, a young, blonde aide buried her face in a tablet and nodded her head frantically. "Yes, Mr Vice-President," she said, almost tripping over her words. "Thanks to some tailwinds we arrived a little ahead of schedule, but the Rideyan government was informed that we were to be arriving at around this time." Faulkner looked around the terminal again - a soulless expanse of faux-marble floors, steel pillars and glass. If they had been expecting the Vaastarnan delegation, then this was a strange welcome.

"What of the others?" he asked. Surely there would be other delegations from Coalition states arriving.

The blonde aide looked almost shame-faced. "Well...ummm...we are aware that a delegation from Blackhalm was suppose to be arriving but..."

"But?" he prompted.

"But we haven't actually had any diplomatic communication from our Coalition partners."

"What!" Faulkner said, raising his voice, which threatened to echo in the swiftly emptying terminal. "You mean to tell me that we have travelled across the better part of half the globe for talks to which the majority of our supposed partners didn't even deign to attend? How are we meant to resolve anything if there isn't even enough people attending to form a third of the Coalition!" The unspoken remainder of his rant, which Faulkner assured was kept to himself, was concern that this demonstrated Vaastarna's very junior role in the Coalition. The larger nations could do as they pleased and felt no compulsion to inform Vaastarna of anything, least of all what they were planning. He actually felt almost insulted. Perhaps there never had been any serious intention on their part to engage in negotiations at all! Well, if that was the case why break one's back trying to support a cause to which Vaastarna was hardly credited?

"You know what?" he said, again spouting his words to no one in particular, "Perhaps the Brotherhood deserve a chance after all?"

[Korouse]

Removed.

[Blackhalm]

The Rideyah National Hotel, New Rideyah

A taxi stopped outside of the Hotel, staff rushed to it to grab luggage and open the door to the taxi, it was at this point Gerald Fishburn got out to smell the aroma of fresh buffet food and freshly cleaned carpets among other things, he looked up to the top of the building, it was very nicely decorated he had to admit although that didn't interest him as much as the other thing he noticed. The fresh buffet he could see through a window, the food looked well made and featured plenty of choices. He walked into the lobby of the building, the staff which had grabbed his bags were already standing by the main elevator, waiting for Gerald to check in. He walked up to the counter manned by an attractive blonde and asked.

"Did I beat that Vice-President fellow from Vaastarna?"

"Who?" she paused for a second then added "Oh, Faulkner, yes, he already checked in about an hour ago." faster than Gerald could respond.

He sighed, before saying "Well, I'm Gerald Fishburn, I'm the Blackhalm delegate."

"No problem sir, I could already tell from the little flag on your suit. Let me just sign you in on the computer here and give you your room number."

Gerald looked at his suit, spotting he did indeed have a flag on it, something he completely forgot about until now, he then looked around the lobby, only now he noticed the tight security, several armed guards patrolled, he understood why of course, very important political figures were in this hotel, Gerald knew he wasn't one of these, but it was nice to feel like one.

"Aaaand done, your room number is 134, enjoy your stay." The receptionist studied Gerald for a second before adding, "The buffet is free, of course."

Gerald thanked her before making his way up the elevator, noticing the staff with his luggage must have already gone up to his room.

[Vaastarna]

Faulkner was lying, half sat up on the decidedly uncomfortable hotel room bed. In the next room along his assistants had set up what passed for a 'command hub' - all electronic sockets loaded to capacity with wires for laptop and phone chargers. They'd even brought additional televisions along to allow a continuous stream of the latest news from all decent stations. He pitied whoever was assigned next to them - he, fortunately, had brought ear plugs.

He idly flicked through Rideyan television. All looked decidedly bleak and, with a tut of annoyance, he clicked it off and swung his legs off the bed. This trip was not a holiday, there was still work to be done - a constant reminder being a stack of files which had been left on the dresser opposite the bed. As leader of the Senate he was supposed to keep abreast of all Senatorial business, not to mention all the committees he had the misfortune to chair. He picked up the file on the top of the pile - Proposals for extension of the High Speed Rail Network (HSRN) - and dropped it back down when he saw the number of graphs, pie charts and tables of figures therein.

There came a gentle knock on the door. The blonde aide popped her head around. "Sorry, Mr Vice-President, you asked me to let you know when the first Centulan delegation arrived."

A thought of his own, which he was sure Ridolphi would approve of. Across Centulas there was much talk (yet little action) concerning a move to 'work together'. Ridolphi was like an animal on heat for the happy-clappy affair - not only did it sit perfectly with his views on intra-continental harmony but it also helped build bridges with neighbours who had been put off by Vaastarna's aggressive stance for the past 20 odd years. It had struck Faulkner that it would be perfect, at least it would be a perfect opportunity, to use the occasion of the talks to make some local friends. Vaastarna should at least leave here with something!

"Who is it?"

"The mission from Blackhalm."

Faulkner nodded and the aide shut the door. Perfect. Roughly a month ago it looked like we could be at war with the islanders. What better way to show a break from the past by acting in unison with Blackhalm. Faulkner was sure that the Halmanians would be after something. That was what they were like - forever after material gain. So be it. Quid pro quo, is that not what people said? Faulkner checked his appearance in the chipped mirror on the wall. He would pay a little call on the Halmanian envoy - find out quite what it was they were after.

[Igoria]

The small, richly furnished plane soared above the Tyrophelian Ocean. On board, enjoying the pleasantries and luxuries of first class travel, afforded only to a lucky few, was the Igorian delegation to the talks with the Brotherhood. Perhaps unsatisfied with the results of the previous negotiations, or perhaps merely wishing to bathe in the light of international prestige, the Imperial Government in Glopurg had dispatched the cavalry. The delegation was headed by Andreas Schiller, Minister of the Exterior and Secretary of Foreign Affairs. Igoria had left the previous negotiations confident that relations between the Brotherhood and the Old Empire would stabilise. However, the Brotherhood defaulting on their loans had prevented that from happening. Now Igoria found itself taking a central role in world-wide coalition to bring down the Brotherhood.
Schiller's party included plenty of ever-present aides, secretaries, advisors, diplomats, communications and security officers and various other functionaries and officials. Schiller was painfully conscious of the immense burden and responsibility that lay on his shoulders. As a prominent member of the Liberal Party he was often at loggerheads with Fesh's Conservatives, as well as their leader, the Lord Chancellor and Minister of Crown Security. Schiller's position in government hung by a thread. His criticism of Igoria's constitution had not won him much favour with either Fesh or the Emperor. His own party was mutinous. And Schiller was adept enough at the cloak and dagger politics within the Igorian government to know that Fesh would purge him, and his party, from any and all positions of power as soon as he had the chance and Imperial backing. Next, have the Emperor, whose will the slippery Minister would manipulate subtly, dissolve the Senate. Hold an election, and hope that the cards fall right for his party this time around, with no more coalitions to form. Fesh and his ilk lacked two Senators to secure a majority.

Schiller's only chance to remain a player in Igorian was to prove his worth as a diplomat. He needed to bring these talks to a favourable conclusion. All the while, he would put on a facade of 'business as usual' and mask his inner turbulence.
Speaking of turbulence, the plane lurched suddenly and one of Schiller's aides spilled coffee all over himself. Swearing softly, the aide rushed off to the bathroom to try and get the ugly stain out of his suit, ignoring the protests of the flight attendants that tried to get the aide to return to his seat.
Sighing at the momentary spot of drama, Schiller looked back at the dossier he had been reading on Kastovakia. His experiences in the field of diplomacy had not taken him to this corner of the world. He'd been to Adscia a few times, and to Groznyj Leich too. And Asirland. But for the most part his travels had not taken his beyond the warmer waters of the Tyrophelian. He had followed the events more intently after the beginning of the Insurrection. Even so, he hoped to get most of his information from first hand sources, once he'd landed. Count Ionarios Stanislas was there to meet him, having set up a forward outpost for the Igorian delegation in New Rideyah.
Schiller had also been instructed to begin schmoozing with the Vaastarnan delegation. After the fall of the bellicose Nobunaga Remarque, the Igorian government no longer had any overbearing problems with the Vaastarnan government, and was eager to court its newly republican neighbour. Schiller supposed that the Vaastarnans were the least of his worries. He hoped that they would be as happy as Igoria to reset relations and come closer together for the first time since 1989.

Schiller set aside the Kastovakian dossier and began idly flicking through the other files he carried with him. Some dealt with the ethics of Igoria's dynastic ties to the Weltenbaum, and how the relations between the two monarchies ought to be presented to the public and reflect on the nation's diplomacy as a whole. Boring stuff, Schiller decided. In his eyes, the monarchy was a relic of the last century. Traditions were traditions, after all, but he had no desire to see the monarchy consume so much of his time. He set that file aside. Flicking through the next one, he found nothing that interested him either. Sighing, he opened a third-

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts. We will now begin our descent into Rideyah International Airport. Local time is 2:12 PM..."

[Rideyah]

BGJ-04: En route to The Weltenbaum

Councilor Katarina Meliv sat comfortably in a plush seats of one of The Brotherhood's government owned private jets, working on her Electronic Pad (with optional keyboard), and sipping on a mug of coffee. These were specially used by exceptionally important government officials, and Katarina was one of them being one of the Councilors of the Supreme Council.

Despite her sitting comfortably, the Councilor was anything but relaxed. Along the way, there had been turbulence, the odd message about Loyalist dissenters clashing with Law Enforcement somewhere in Kastovakia, and even one or two reports on what all was going on in the world. Only three or four Coalition delegates had arrived in New Rideyah, and no word whatsoever coming from the others. There was much speculation in The Brotherhood that the Coalition wasn't even really considering negotiation, and was just buying time to amass forces for an invasion. But, The Brotherhood being what it is, decided to try and keep up a more positive outlook on things.

The Jet’s intercom dinged all of a sudden (causing the Councilor to jump a bit) and the captain’s voice sounded over it.

“Councilor, we have received a transmission from the Brockenburg Airport.”

After settling back into her seat, Katarina composed herself, and cleared her throat. “Yes, what is it?”
“The Airport says that there is a blizzard moving in and that we will have to be diverted south of the mountains. Our arrival will be extend by an hour or so.”
“Alright then. Thanks for the notice Captain.”
“Yes. Maam.”

Katarian was a bit distraught, not so much by the blizzard, but more that she had to be on a plane for longer than she wanted to. But, she had to remember, it was for something that might help The Brotherhood.

At the same time, New Rideyah

Inner Circle Chief of Staff Joseph Zelo stood at the top of the National Hotel’s Grand Staircase, observing the staff and guests moving about the lobby. While the Supreme Leader was indisposed, he was given charge of checking for the arrival of any other delegates, and greeting them.

So far, he had only been able to greet the Halmanian, Vaastarnan, and Igorian delegates, and also made it his duty to pay a visit to Asirland’s (although she seemed rather cold). So far, everything seemed to be going well, although it was greatly disheartening that no word of any other delegates attending had come to him. Perhaps the rumors were true? That the consideration of negotiation had just been a ruse on the Coalition’s part? But he quickly put that out of his mind. You must always keep a positive attitude in such circumstance. Anything else would just make matters worse.

Depressed, Joseph returned to the Presidential Suite to discuss administrative matters with his colleagues.

[Desertas]

02:36am, Royal Létina Palace

Exiting the luxurious hallways of the Palace, the Minister of External Affairs, Fäbí Ãglèşa, a strong woman, but sometimes with lack of confidence with fear of letting everyone down. Entering her luxurious car, Fäbí headed directly to the airport in an escort from the Royal Guard.


Entering the plane Fäbí found Oulíbia de l Bilar de l Monte, a young girl in her late 20s and occupying the office of Peace and Humanitarian Aid, her accent was very noticeable, it was clear that she was born in the mountains and that Desertarian wasn't her mother tongue. The plane was a highly luxurious and expensive plane, with shiny wood and the flag covered all of the doors, but still, this plane wasn't comparable to the one where the Queen and The Prime-Minister are able to travel.


— Your Excellency, what happened back in Létina? — said Oulíbia de l Bilar de l Monte, the Secretary of State for Peace and Humanitarian Aid, with a very calm voice and a Bérîlian accent.

— The same as usual, I don't see a military action as the best way... — said the Minister, with a comforting voice — We are dropping an Ambassador there probably, I can't give too much garantees, such a world.

Both entered in the livingroom and Oulíbia started to enjoy a good coffee while Fäbí got a small good looking cake.

— Are we sending our Hospital ships? I think that the population deserves some hope — hopelessly said.

— Yes, I do think we are sending them. Also, we are backing up Blackhalm with Lyseni island getting autonomy.

— I hope we don't engage in war.

— So do I... We are going to do well, Kaine may be an idiot, but he is smart.


Sometime after both Fäbí and Oulíbia talking about the situation, the plane arrived at New Rideyah Airport at 6:11am, and the cold air with a little of fog from the morning made her feel better from her insecurities.

[Asirland]

"Menyerd matrlevyer, menyerd pitrelvyer,
Menya jivanya zafret samptetsk.
Pradnya menya atmev jalatsk zaktetsk.
Avatskan menyerd sangher,
Jivas punahatsk."

Hansavda closed her pen. She looked at the poem she'd written, and took a deep breath. Sometimes, she thought, writing out her musings helped to relieve her of stress, something she couldn't afford to have on this crucial international endeavor. The Brotherhood's leader had visited her, acted very considerate. He seemed like a nice person. That much she was able to make out. While this man could be very well why Kastovakia's government had toppled, he knew how to console people. He had an aura of genuineness, his company meant being awash with a feeling of comfort, and solace, even. No wonder this man had managed to mobilise half a nation to brutally turn against their very own government. Of course, that government might have not necessarily been the perfect, but it had been legitimately elected. Hansavda got up from her table. She had work to do.

She walked up to the window. Snowflakes were gently fluttering about. Paharpurastraya, at this time of the year, was frigid and uncomfortable, but snow was an oddity. The hailstorms were known to cause havoc, but the winter wonderland that she had in front of her was very rarely seen in central Asirland. She had been rather withdrawn and rude today. She'd snapped at the bellhop, the waiter, and her very own staff. It meant very little to her, but she guessed that wasn't going to work. A diplomat had to work like a politician, really. Smile fake smiles and extract results from people while they smile back. At least that's what her father, a diplomat himself, had taught her. No...she shouldn't have. A wave of emotions hit her hard, and she just stood there, staring at the snowflakes, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Ma'am?" a muffled feminine voice called out from behind her. Someone was knocking at the door. "May I?" Mentally shaking herself, Hansavda replied, in a soft yet sharp tone, "You may." The door opened, and admitted a petite woman who carried with her what looked like a crate of files and paperwork. Okay? What's that supposed to be? "Your assistant asked me to deliver these to you. He said these were expressly sent by the Union-Government." The woman crossed her hands below the chest and bowed slightly, and Hansavda reciprocated her gesture, muttering a soft Nemskerd in the process. As the woman exited, Hansavda looked at the first file inside the crate.

"ZHIGRET: MANTRELVYERD" it read. She raised her eyebrows. Apparently from the very highest level of Asir diplomacy, from the Foreign Minister herself. Elena Emasou's letter would most certainly be of help here. Quickly opening the file, she drew out a sheet of paper with the Asir stamp on it. It read:

To: Hansavda Vajrana, Dvidanyatsk Stanakya, Videsos Mantrelvyer
From: Office of Elena Emasou, Videsosambandatskerd Mantrerd, SDA
IMPORTANT: DIPLOMATIC COMMUNIQUE, UNION-MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS
Respected ma'am,
Nemskerd-i-vanakusmos. This is to inform you of the Asir stance, as established by the political leadership. This has been approved of by the Prime Minister, the President and the Foreign Minister themselves. We would expect this to be maintained and not be distorted amid other influences. We, as Asirs, expect the following outcomes,
(a) Democratic regime, fully democratic in nature;
(b) Rights of the minorities to be respected;
(c) Rideyan/Kastovakian leadership to be elected purely on the basis of public approval, i.e. elections. This includes the leader of the so-called Brotherhood.
We expect the exchange to begin soon. If not, the delegation must assert the need of immediate negotiation and consensus. We wish you good fortune in the upcoming diplomatic exchange, and bomyatsk hemnyatsk jivetsk sadatsk!
Regards,
Office of the VM-SDA

Hansavda nodded as her eyes travelled down the page. She had to get ready, a full-blown war was up ahead. The war? Trying to convince the people who were convinced they were right and were the sole saviours of Kastovakia. Little did these saviours realise that they had destroyed a nation in the process. This had to change, this had to stop. She was going to be part of that change. Perhaps she'd come out alive.

[Vaastarna]

Faulkner gulped down the last dregs of the bitter tasting coffee and set the cup down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He'd need several more cups of the foul local stuff before he was done here. He was sat in the crowded hotel room which was almost humorously passing itself off as his temporary Headquarters. Snow kept falling outside and the hotel was compensating by keeping the heating cranked up, making the interior unpleasantly stuffy. He and his staff hadn't ventured particularly far outside the bounds of the building. He'd half expected there to be some form of events schedule laid on but with every passing day he was getting a clearer and clearer picture of how little the local government cared about what others thought.

He had taken the opportunity to speak with the ambassador sent by Blackhalm. The two gentlemen had spent the better part of an evening in private discussion, aided by a little of the foul local liquor, and Faulkner believed he had come away with a reasonably clear and correct picture as to what it was that the island Empire was after. What he had so far been unable to do was hold a private discussion with the envoy from Igoria. Faulkner, of course, was old enough to have been born an Igorian citizen, when Vaastarna still formed a quasi-autonomous province of the former. He had even served for a short while in the Igorian military, prior to the split between the two states. Unlike many of his peers, he harboured no resentment against their neighbour. After all, the two countries had nigh on 2,000 years of shared history and cultural interchange. The squabbles since 1989 were like the foolish spats between two brothers. Ridolphi's great mission was his grand plan for the Centulan-wide alliance: a castle built in the clouds. Faulkner's more realistic foreign policy goal was to build bridges with Igoria. Even literally. Since 1989 the train lines had terminated abruptly on both sides of the border. Why not expand the proposed high speed rail network in Vaastarna into Igoria and, on the back of this, set up new trade treaties? Well, that didnt much matter at this stage - but he definitely needed to speak with the Igorians.

"Ok," he said with a cough, "pass over the draft."

An assistant passed over a single sheet of typed A4 paper. He and the team had been working on this for close to 10 hours now. Informally it was being referred to as the "Faulkner Memorandum", which the Vice-President secretly relished. One of the things he had realised by now was that the Coalition, so quick to cobble itself together in the wake of the Brotherhood's success, was now utterly powerless and devoid of a leading voice. There was no unity of purpose. In truth, Faulkner believed that the who informal alliance had already stalled. If the whispers flying around the hotel were correct, the Brotherhood were already in negotiations with the Weltenbaum. If true, they would have little to fear from a hodge-podge of liberally minded states if they thought they could fall back on the support of the mysterious vastness from the North. In the absence of agreement from the few nations that were present and with no word from those Coalition nations not represented, Faulkner could see no point in delaying his mission further to no end. As such, he and his team had prepared the following memorandum, to be sent to the Rideyan government. Failure to accept the terms would terminate his mission here and he would up sticks and return home, to await how events would transpire.

Memorandum

23 January 2016

To the Governments of Rideyah and Kastovakia,

In a bid to resolve the international tensions caused by the recent civil war in the region formerly known as Kastovakia and now forming two unrecognised new nations, the government of the Federal Republic of Vaastarna submits the following proposals for a lasting peace:

1. The so called states of Rideyah and Kastovakia will be divided into local electoral municipalities under international supervision. These municipalities shall vote independently in a referendum to decide whether the citizens of said municipalities wish to be incorporated into the state of Rideyah or Kastovakia. The results of the municipal referendums shall determine the borders of the two states.
2. Any citizen shall have the right of free movement from one state to the other if they do not agree with the result of the referendum
3. Following the referendums, both states shall be legally recognised by international governments.
4. The Constitutions of both states are to be democratically drafted and approved by plebiscite in both states.
5. The Constitutions shall respect the principles of freedom of belief and plurality of belief, opinion and lifestyle.
6. Both states agree to limit their military for the space of 5 years to a size determined by agreement internationally.
7. The islanders of Lyseni shall be provided with the option for national self-determination if they so desire.
8. In order to secure performance of these obligations, both states agree to an international force being stationed on Lyseni for the period of 2 years.
9. The states of Rideyah and Kastovakia shall be the recipients of regeneration grants to be assessed by international governments.

The government of Vaastarna awaits acceptance of these terms. If both governments are willing, the Federal Republic of Vaastarna shall do all in its power to secure international approval of the terms of this agreement. Failure to accept these terms shall result in immediate severing of diplomatic ties.

Faulkner chewed his lip for a moment. What else could he do? How was he supposed to negotiate when he had no idea what to negotiate for? For a moment more he drummed his fingers on the table top and then abruptly grabbed his fountain pen and signed his name with a flourish at the bottom of the page.

"Send this to the governments of Rideyah and Kastovakia...and pack your bags."

[Blackhalm]

Gerald Fishburn woke up to a strong hangover, the pulsating pain in his head bringing a stark contrast to the silence of the Hotel room he has been staying in during the mission, although he did remember it being substantially more shaken up during the previous night, indicating that the maids must have come through while he was passed out to clean up, alarmed from the thought of Kastovakian residents looking at the mess a couple of International politicians causing, Gerald decided to get out of bed, he didn't know he was naked until he started to feel the breeze hitting his lower torso. He had a vague idea of what happened, he spoke with Faulkner about politics and ideas for reality television shows then decided to look at the room service menu after Faulkner left, more specifically, the liquor menu. He did want to experience what Kastovakian vodka would taste like. He couldn't exactly remember what it did taste like but it would've been good considering he drunk enough to get himself a hangover. He scrambled though the bed's blanket, pulling out his phone. Sunday.

"Bollocks." He thought.

Gerald knew it would be about now others in the hotel would start sending out their nations demands, He, didn't even start writing it up, he did at least know one or two terms The Queen would want, the rest he couldn't remember. He decided he should at least put on some clothes before doing anything else. As he took out some clothes from the room's wardrobe he thought about possible routes to take.

One he thought of involved taking a last minute rush to write something up with two definite terms and some vague paragraph meaning anything anyone would want it to mean. He decided against this as he slid up his underwear and trousers. His hangover would make it awfully hard to concentrate and would probably turn out something comparable to a six year old's essay on why they should be allowed to watch adult only slasher films.

He slid the belt through the trim of the pants and secured his trousers around his waist. As he went to grab the shirt and jacket he thought of a second idea. He would call up the Prime Minister's mobile and ask him for the terms and to pass the letter writing up bit down to a secretary and mail it Gerald. A few more problems arose from this plan. One. He would surely be asleep during the night over there in the homeland, already making it harder for the two of them to remain friends. Two. If The Queen found out her Foreign Minister got a hangover at a diplomatic mission and forgot what the nation was negotiating for he would be in quite a large amount of trouble about as large as the barrel of the artillery cannon the Queen would use on him if she ruled an authoritarian dictatorship with a rather none liberal political ideology. At risk of offending Afans he discontinued this thought.

A third option would be to copy off one of the other diplomats and just say the Queen agrees. He decided to go with the second option because he wasn't fourteen years old.

He finished putting on the suit as the situation dawned on him, he was stuck in a situation which could make a mockery of Blackhalm's international prestige, showing of the incompetence of Blackhalm's government. "Christ." He thought, just listing the stark contrast in professionalism between Him and Asirland's representative was enormous. He continued to think about the deep potential trouble as he rang up the phone number.

The phone rung in Gerald's hand for a good few rings, almost enough to head into voicemail but lucky for him it was picked up on the last second. The first thing he heard was a yawn followed by a tired, slightly grumpy Prime Minister saying.
"Gerald, do you have any idea what the time is here? I didn't intend to wake up this early."
Gerald snapped into a friendly act, not giving any signs of being hungover. "Now Mister Prime Minister, sir, before you say anything else let me carefully explain the situation very carefully."
Phillips, aware of the uncharacteristic tone of his Foreign Minister followed suspiciously as Gerald carefully explained in grueling detail the situation he was in as if he was the victim and not the one at fault.
"You bloody pillock, Fishburn... Now what are we going to do? We'll be the laughing stock of politicians for months if you don't give a copy of demands now."
"Well I was hoping you'd get one of your secretaries to lower downs to create a letter and send it to me."
"That's the thing, Fishburn because the working hours for the day have not begun yet, how the hell do you expect me to assign work? None of them would even be up at this point." Phillips retaliated in a more angry tone, snapping out of his tired state.
"Well, it's all we can do at the moment without looking like a bunch of uncivilized apes."
"Look, can't you just do it? Instead of me helping you cheat on your homework."
"I would but you know the quality of the letter would not be great. Can't you please just get a helicopter or something to fly overhead one of your secretaries houses and tell them to do this for me?"
"Fine but you'll be getting helicopters flying over your house for the next month once you come back you bloody pillock." The Prime Minister concluded before hanging up the phone.

With that the slightly chubby man in a suit's problem was solved, within an hour a draft of demands was mailed to him and he printed it out, signed it and sent it off to the bald guy in the penthouse. The letter made a number of demands;

- Numbers, 2, 3, 6, 8, 9 of Vaastarna's demands.
- The Country to be divided up on ethnic borders rather referendum with the exception of Lyseni which will be part of the Republic under full autonomy or be given to Blackhalm in case Rideyah feels the Republic will be too better off.
- The port in Lyseni can be freely used between any nation's navy in the collation and its waters be moved through by any collation navy.
- The monument of the Battle of Lyseni (Battle between Blackhalm and Brotherhood) will be considered Halmanian soil and maintenance of which will go to Blackhalm.

[Rideyah]

National Hotel

Kaine didn't particularly like it when people just sent blatant demands, especially in the form of a measly letter. When he was angry (which was becoming increasingly often), his aides knew to stay out of his way.

With really no other nations arriving, things would just have to move forward, whether people wanted to or not. As such, Kaine wrote the following letter update:

Esteemed Colleagues,

It has become increasingly apparent that no other diplomats from the other Coalition nations will be attending, so I believe it to be in the best interest that we discuss negotiations immediately, instead of sending meaningless letters to one another, and talking behind closed doors.

Our official meeting will be held in the Conference Room of the Hotel at approximately 6:00 PM this evening. I expect you all to attend. We shall see if anything goes well.

- Kaine

Short and straight to the point. Then again, because of his current mood, the Supreme Leader wasn't in the mood for lengthy communiques.

[Vaastarna]

The delegate from Kaine's office hurried to the hotel in which the international emissaries had been put up. The lobby was full of luggage, together with faces from several different Austritarian nations. Televisions crews and packs of journalists prowled around, stalking out juicy leads and easy grey for poorly thought through quotes. He took the lift up several stories and hurried along packed corridors, every now and again checking the scrap of paper which the receptionist had given him which had the room numbers of the Vaastarnan delegation on it. Finally reaching the first of the rooms he knocked sharply on it. There was no answer. He tried the room next door. Again he knocked, again there was no answer. He tried the third room on this list. This time, as he moved to knock, he noticed that the door was not locked. He gently pushed it open. The interior was deserted - the bed neatly made, the very image of tidiness.

One thing, however, stood out. There, placed directly in the centre of a pillow, was a crisp, white envelope. In elegant red ink was written the Supreme Leader's name.

The official took it up and, with matching alacrity, he hurried back to his master.

[The Weltenbaum]

Schatten Gretchen, near Brockenberg

Dual-Directorship holder Kriemhild Elise Zimonis winced at the increasing volume and frequency of the wind pounding at the walls of her recently-appropriated mountain retreat outside of the ancient city of Brockenburg. The wincing was also, in part, due to the documents she was skimming through on the computer in her lavish office. "Those Halmanian and Vaastarnan 'diplomats' have no tact," she said to nobody in particular, as the office was empty, save for the young Director of Legal and Foreign affairs. She ran her hands through her long, strawberry-blonde hair, letting out a sigh, well aware that she had at least two hours before the belated Brotherhood delegation arrived, due to the titanic storm currently threatening to beat down her door.

A knock on the carved doors to Kriemhild's office jostled her out of her thoughts of how in the world she was going to deal with the block-headed Vaastarnan and Halmanian foreign departments when it came down to it. "It's open, I'm not busy, you may enter," she said, in a distracted tone. The heavy, mahogany doors to the Georgian room swung open to reveal one of Kriemhild's deputies, the Deputy Director of Legal Affairs, Candelaria Ophelia Seckendorf. The taller, bustier blonde stood, surveying the room for a moment, as she was prone to doing, before entering. The Director looked her second-in-command over, noting the hat she had clasped in her hand, the heavy, furred coat she was wearing, and her high-end boots, before addressing her again. "You're off to Gottstag now, to meet with Supreme Premier Porsche?" the more petite woman stated, fully knowing the answer to the question. Candelaria took the question in stride, answering quickly but not hastily, "Yes, I'll be taking Tänzerin to Brockenberg so I'll be able to beat the storm," the Deputy Director paused for a moment, "is there anything you'd like me to tell Deputy Director Unfruchtbar?" she finally continued. Kriemhild considered this for a moment, "Yes, I want you to give him this," she stood from her chair, and picking up a thumb-drive containing the recent updates from Rideyah, walked across the room to Candelaria. The Director pressed the thumb-drive into her deputy and friend's hand, before (in an unprofessional display that would've shocked any pre-Directorate Welten politician) hugging the taller woman. Breaking off the hug, Candelaria pocketed the drive, "be safe with these religious crazies, 'miss director'", she told her long-time friend, before exiting the room. The long walk from the Director's office to where the government-appropriated skyliner was moored was uneventful, and Candelaria boarded the extravagant Tänzerin without incident, settling down for an hour-long nap upon reaching her cabin.

Brockenberg Airport, Brockenberg

Deputy Director of Foreign Affairs Philip Johann Unfruchtbar stood inside of Brockenberg International Airport's small Diplomat's Lounge, which was, in reality, merely a pilot's lounge that Philip's team of diplomats and guards had claimed as their own. The airport was deserted, aside from maintenance staff and Philip's team, due to the storm that was currently wracking the Welten-Grohting border. The same storm had also grounded all but two incoming flights and two outgoing ones. The first of said incoming flights arrived in typical dirigible fashion, as Director Kriemhild Elise Zimonis' "personal" airship, the Tänzerin touched down daintily in the open field between two of the major runways. Philip stifled a laugh at it's extravagant design as well as the fact that his counterpart in the Department of Legal Affairs, Candelaria Ophelia Seckendorf nearly fell flat on her face getting out of the aircraft. Candelaria made her way across the airstrip to the terminal building that Philip had set up in, greeting her colleague and university friend with a handshake and half-hug. "Good luck in the Capital, Candy, Supreme Premier Porshce has something cooking," Philip said, having come from Heart of the Imperial Confederation recently. "Good luck with these Rideyans, Phil," the still half-sleep-groggy woman responded, "Oh, and Kriemhild wanted you to have this, try to read over it on your flight," she added, handing Philip the thumb-drive. "Probably something more in depth about those crazy demands from the coalition, thanks," Philip said, taking the drive and slipping it into his smart suit pocket. The two diplomats exchanged their farewells before Candelaria returned to the airstrip to get on a private jet back to Gottstag, and Philip settled in to wait for the Rideyans.

Philip's wait turned out not to be very long, as mere minutes after Canderlaria's jet to Gottstag had taken off and began the hours-long flight, the Brotherhood's garish red-and-black jet landed on the runway. Philip slipped into a coat as his entourage of lesser diplomats and Directorate Guardsmen joined him in a walk out into the frigid Welten winter air to greet the foreign delegation. Deputy Director Philip Johann Unfruchtbar approached the woman he knew, from reports, to be the Brotherhood's Councilor of Peace, Katarina Meliv. "Councilor Meliv" the young Deputy Director addressed the Ellaharist in Cratic, extending his hand for a shake, which she accepted. The Kastovakian paused, and said in Cratic, "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure who I'm greeting, I was under the impression that I was to enter talks with Director Zimonis?"
"Ah, I'm terribly sorry, Councillor, but Director Zimonis is already where the talks are being held, I'm the Deputy Director of Foreign Affairs Philip Johann Unfruchtbar."
"That makes sense, again, I apologize for not being familiar with you, but your name seems so... familiar."
"My father was the last Chief Executive of the Old Government, that's probably where you know the name from." The group walked in silence for a bit more before coming to where the Tänzerin rested, "Just an hour or so ride in this will take us to Schatten Gretchen, where the talks are being held." Meliv visibly blanched, though maybe it was just from the cold, "why can't we drive up, or even take a plane?"
"Well councilor, the blizzard is raging at Schatten Gretchen, we'd rather not risk the drive into the mountains, and planes aren't able to take that much turbulence. Don't worry, it's the safest way to fly." With that, they boarded the dirigible.

[Igoria]

"Your Excelleny?" the aide peered around the door into the hotel room without so much as a knock. It was a nice room, located on the floor occupied almost entirely by the Igorian delegation.
Schiller looked up sharply from his newspaper. "That's me." The Igorian was relaxing, wearing a T-Shirt and sweatpants, with a glass of Britarian Cognac on the small wooden table, standing by a mound of documents.
"I have a message here, from Kaine." the aide, clearly taken aback by his boss' loose appearance, supplemented.
"Mhhh. Put it there," Schiller said, indicating an ever growing mound of documents, files, telegrams and communiques that accompanied the Minister wherever he went. The aide placed it on top of the pile, but Schiller snapped, angrily, "No, under the Laronios Affair." The aide corrected his mistake, gingerly shifting a thick file over the small envelope with the message. "Whatever it is can wait," Schiller added, "the Laronios Affair is pretty damn urgent."
Urgent enough for you to read the fucking paper, the aide thought darkly.
"With all due respect an' all, Minister, but the message was pretty urgent too. It's from Kaine." he said.
"I don't care if it's from bloody Ingvar II, come back from the dead. It can wait 'till after I deal with the Laronios affair!" Schiller snapped.
"But sir, it's pressing-"
"Fine!" the bald diplomat said, "I'll read it." Standing abruptly up, Schiller snatched the envelope from under the Laronios Affair file, and tore it open. Reading the fine piece of paper that was held within, Schiller's face as blank.
"Kaine summons me to a conference of some kind. Hmmm." Schiller was a patient man. He was not overly prideful the way His Imperial Majesty or Fesh could be when faced by foreigners. But even then, being summoned and presented with expectations by that bald, beady-eyed, small-time crook looking Ellahrist was too much. "Perhaps we shouldn't, just to show him that we're the ones dictating terms here?"
"That would be highly imprudent, sir."
"I suppose so. Well, I guess I'd best get changed into something official. Anything else?"
The aide nodded.
"Well, what is it?" Schiller asked impatiently.
The aide wrung his hands, and said, slimily, "The Vaastarnans are gone."
"Gone? How so?"
"Gone. Just gone."
"Well, that was unexpected. Well, mayhaps they're playing their own game. To each their own, and theirs is no concern of mine. That will be all."

The aide nodded and withdrew. Schiller did not immediately go and change. Instead, he reviewed his own notes for the negotiations. Schiller was relieved at their simplicity.
1: Both Kastovakia and Rideyah will be forced to reaffirm their debts to the Empire of Igoria. Currently, the debt stands at 55 billion credits. This debt will be split between the two states in proportion to the population split, as it is the people of the former Federation, both Rideyahns and Kastovakians, that this loan was intended to aid.
2: Any other prior bargains of the Federal Government will be upheld.
3: An international peacekeeping contingent is to be deployed to both Rideyah and Kastovakia to ensure that the terms of the agreement, the peace between the Federation and the Brotherhood, and the safety and security of the populace are ensured and upheld.
4: Both Kastovakia and Rideyah will limit their militaries to a level that will prevent any future escalation. Both the Vakoi government and the Brotherhood are advised to limit their military spending to ensure that state funds are allocated to help those who are left in need following the brutal war.
5: All possible measures to prevent interracial strife will be taken.
6: The Constitutions of any emerging successor states will be reviewed by the international community.
Yet underneath all that was scrawled one word, one single word, in Emperor Veztazon II's hand: Delay.
Schiller was uncertain about this one word. It was a directive from the Emperor, undoubtedly decided between him and a few advisers in some shadowy, smoke filled basement. As such, part of Schiller, as a loyal subject and servant of His Imperial Majesty (though he was a republican), ought to follow this directive. But the other part of him wanted to bring home a triumphant treaty.

[Rideyah]

National Hotel, Conference Hall

Kaine stood at the head of the long conference table, a glass window looking out to the snow covered city of New Rideyah, and the Bay of Rid stretching out to the horizon. Seated around the table, where the representatives of Asirland, Blackhalm, Igoria, and Desertas, with little flags sitting on the table in front of each of them to denote their country. Situated in the middle of the glass table, and running the entire length, was a wide groove where small, decorative pebbles rested. At the far end of the table, there was a screen for the Korousean individual who would be participating over video call.

The delegates looked rather stressed, although he could tell they paled in comparison to his exhaustion and his own stress. They weren't in his position. But, he kept his cool, and prayed for guidance. However, some good news had reached him that Councilor Meliv had reached The Weltenbaum, and was on her way to begin negotiations with them.

"Lady and Gentlemen," he started, gripping the back of the chair in front of him with his left hand," I have gathered you here today, to get things moving along. Obviously, no more of your Coalition colleagues will be attending, so there is no point in waiting any longer. We are here to negotiate and discuss the future. To preserve the fragile peace of the world. Obviously, you are anyone else may not think highly of me or The Brotherhood for overthrowing the government of old, but our actions were justified, and we will leave it at that. And if no one here wants to compromise... well. Right there is the door." He took a drink of water, and then continued again. "Now, to the task at hand. Now, since our Vaastarna colleague simply wrote a letter and left without notice, their position will be set aside for now. If they can't be bothered to participate, they will be given a lower priority. Anyhow, to start off, I will highlight what exactly The Brotherhood wants out of this arrangement. Now, it has come to my attention that you all want a democratic Kastovakia, with the deposed Mr. Vakoi installed as its head of state. To that, The Brotherhood has a solution... the official separation of Kastovakia into two sovereign states. A New Kastovakia, and state under the authority of The Brotherhood, called Rideyah."

At that, a screen deployed from the ceiling in front of the window, and the lights slightly dimmed. A projector also emerged from the ceiling over the table, and projected a rudimentary map of Kastovakia, divided into two colors... Red and Blue:

"This, is what The Brotherhood has in mind regarding the division of Kastovakia. This is of course negotiatble, but anything too drastic will be dismissed immediately. We of course, have our own conditions for the New Kastovakia division. Their armed forces shall only be used in their own, self-defence, and may not be used to instigate war. Must have a limitation on the number of their military. Must have a limitation on technological advancement. Must be subject to regular Brotherhood inspections to search for chemical, biological, or thermoberic weaponry, and is barred from developing or possessing such weaponry or weaponry of comparable destruction. May not adopt anti-Ellahrist policies. Allow full travel access for Rideyan citizens passing through Kastovakian territory. Of course, you may make whatever deals you wish with a New Kastovakia, but should be put under review by Rideyah. Of course, subjecting debts to Rideyah is completely out of the question and any reference to it will be dismissed immediately. The debts of the old government are not the problems of The Brotherhood, Rideyah, or the Rideyan people. As for Rideyah's relations towards the coalition states: Official recognition of Rideyah as a sovereign state, and The Brotherhood as its legal government. Official recognition of Ellahrism as a full fledged religion. Provision of humanitarian assistance in the post-war reconstruction efforts. Mutual non-aggression and trade agreement. Mutual establishment of embassies and ambassadorial exchange. Acceptance of Ellahrist missionaries into nations. Lastly, to help smooth over certain issues, The Brotherhood itself is willing to separate its governmental and religious aspects into two separate entities."

Kaine then sat down in his seat, and, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the table, asked: "Well?"

[Igoria]

Schiller did not rise to speak. "Your terms are unacceptable, Mr. Kaine. They are frankly ridiculous. The Igorian government will not stand for your proposed "peace". Your plan for ensuring peace and security is not a lasting settlement, it's a ceasefire for 20 years. By attempting to assert some kind of dominance over the Federation you are encouraging revanchism, and bitter feeling between the inhabitants of the two states, who, despite your feud with Vakoi, undoubtedly view each other as brothers. How many families will you split? We will not stand for your proposed partition of the former Federation. It ought to be blatantly obvious to all that drawing an arbitrary line on a map is not the way to split a country. A far more prudent model, if such a split is to be pressed, is one similar to what our Vaastarnan colleagues suggested: a referendum to be held on every local administrative level. Furthermore, it is our fundamental belief that it is for the common good of all of former Kastovakia that a split is avoided. You are only weaker divided.
Secondly, we will not stand for your outrageous demands and arbitrary restrictions that you would press on New Kastovakia. There will be no unilateral disarmament. Any limitations in the field of army size, armaments production or research will apply to both states. If I may say so myself, it is in the interest of both your nations that military spending is limited and focused on relieving the dispossessed and bereaved. Your people have suffered enough. There will also be no question of Brotherhood checks on Kastovakian facilities. If anything, these checks will be carried out on both your nations by unbiased international teams.
We do agree with one thing: the New Kastovakian government will not adopt any anti-Ellahrist policies. Or any other anti-religious policies. But neither will you. Both your government will allow your citizens the freedom of practicing whatever faith they chose without fear of reprisal or repression. We understand the bitterness of Ellahrists towards the former government for their centuries of violence and oppression. But two wrongs don't make a right. Punishing ordinary people for the crimes of a government, which happened to share their religion, is every bit as vile and deplorable as those crimes you constantly remind us of. We fully agree that Rideyans should be allowed free passage through Kastovakia. But we insist that the same goes for Kastovakians in Rideyah. Again, international inspections will ensure that both your states have complied. The international inspection will also ensure that the separation of the Brotherhood and the Rideyan government has been carried out, and that the New Kastovakian government has established a secular and democratic regime.
But your next proposals are utterly preposterous. Under no circumstances will the dealings between New Kastovakia and any other foreign states be subject to reviewal by the Rideyan government. New Kastovakia is a sovereign, independent state, not your lapdog. They will be free to dictate their own foreign policy and their own future. Secondly, regarding sovereign debt. Both your states will be subject to debt, proportional to the eventual split of the population, once the referendums had taken place. This is for the basic reason that the loan was intended to help the people; by accepting responsibility of the people, you also, by default, accept their debts. We will agree on one thing: whatever debts are currently existing will be the responsibility of the New Kastovakian government until the split is finalised. Take heart, as the debt expires in a few months, so they may end up paying it in its entirety, if the split is not finalised by then."
Schiller finished, and took a gulp of water. The good cop was silent. Now it was time for the bad cop to speak.
Count Ionarios Stanislas, Ambassador to Kastovakia and Schiller's deputy at these negotiations, began to speak. A smallish, slight and pale man, his words were unexpected, given his physique. "Well, I can say one thing. Don't you dare presume to dictate terms to us. It's not us that came to you, it's you that came to us. We will recognise the Rideyan state as independent and sovereign, it is only fitting, after all. But we will not recognise the Brotherhood as a legal government, for reasons of secularisation, which Minister Schiller has already outlined. But any secular government will have our recognition. Your faith, Ellahrism, has always been recognised as a religion by us in Igoria, though, if I may say so myself, your recent behaviour has not reflected entirely positively on the average Igorian's opinion of it. Rideyan citizens, be they missionaries or not, will be free to travel to Igoria, providing they have a [Visa equivalent]. No immigration or national security laws will be waived to allow clerics specifically to enter Igoria. If they do arrive, they are free to spread all the Ellahrist propaganda that they want, but I can't promise that anyone will listen.
However, Igoria will not sign a non-agression pact, nor will we guarantee trade relations. The most we will consent to is a resetting of relations between our states and an exchange of diplomatic missions to pave the way for further agreements. Furthermore, we will be under no obligation to provide humanitarian aid or finance your reconstruction efforts. Your clear disdain for previous Igorian aid, in the form of loans, has killed off any appetite we may have had for doing so."
"That said," Schiller interjected, "if you prove wise enough to recognise your obligations as the supposedly legitimate government of your people and accept your sovereign debt, we will most certainly be willing to further our relations through additional financial and humanitarian assistance to the people of both Rideyah and Kastovakia."
Kaine did not look happy.
"Mr. Kaine," Schiller said, rising for the first time, "I have every reason to assume that you intend to be singularly unhelpful. But I must remind you that unless you present us with a sensible counter-offer, I will walk out that door. And if I do, I will have no choice but to present you with this hastily scrawled declaration of war," he said, solemnly, raising a little note that he had scrawled while Stanislas had spoken.

[Blackhalm]

Gerald went for a sip of the bottled water that was provided, laying back into a relaxed state on his chair at the table, watching the quite emotional response the Igorian delegate gave in protest of Kaine's 'offer' and for the most part agreeing with all of the Igorian's counter-terms. Once the response of the Igorian delegate's was finished and another war was threatened, Gerald put down the bottle of water and decided to add onto his allies little speech. "And he wouldn't be the only one leaving this room because you can damn well count on Blackhalm to also declare war if something reasonable isn't thought up, and if that is the case, it won't be a simple intervention force." He said with a sturdy tone before taking another sip of water before standing up and adding "Although as much as I would love to just sit here and nod my head in agreement to whatever Stanislas says, I do have a demand of my own to add, the matter of Lyseni, we want it in the Democratic Kastovakia's possession with full autonomy. If you don't agree, we'll take it by force and add it as an autonomous region of our empire."

Gerald sat down and lent back on his chair, waiting for a response.

[Rideyah]

Kaine gave a slight chuckle.

"Oh, you Imperialist Westerners. You amuse me," he started, but then put on a stern face," your sense of entitlement and feeling that you are superior is not welcome here. Your terms aren't exactly acceptable either. We are here to negotiate. And negotiation means coming to a compromise. If you are not here to do that... then why are you here at all? You talk of waging war. What will that bring exactly? Nothing but more death and destruction. War will be counter-productive towards the restoration process. And, you talk of "restoring" democracy. If going off of that, the Coalition should be going after you two as well. If I am not mistaken, you are not entirely democratic either. So my question is: What business do you have here?" Looking at the Igorian delegate, he said: "I want this hostility to end as smoothly as possible, and in a way that benefits both parties. I don't want their to be disrespectful and unnecessary arguments... or Delays."