NationStates

The Despot's Palace, Federal District of Roan
Federation of Allamunnic States, December 19th, 2016

Sofya Rudulf had been the president-elect of the Federation of Allamunnic States for around a month when her presence was requested at the Despot's Palace. The building had not served its original purpose in over fifteen years, now, with its last resident, Eddard Jaal, now in the ground, and had been converted to offices for high bureaucrats associated with the executive back in 2005. In many regards, the Federation was still administered from the converted palace. The building in some ways more resembled a fortress than a palace, Sofya thought as her car approached the building. Perhaps, she reflected, because it had had to be. The Despots at many times had been far from popular. More of them had been assassinated than not.

And she was the first leader of the Federation that had been chosen directly by the people, elected, not selected, in its entire history. The momentousness of the occasion was not lost on the former union organizer. Even though she had not yet been sworn in, she knew that the outgoing administration, that of the nation's second-longest-serving leader to date, wanted to make sure that her administration and its progressive allies would hit the ground running.

She glanced across the interior of the car, where her Vice-President-elect was sitting. Sofya was glad she had gone along with the compromise proposed by the Labor Party during their meetings with the Federalists to pick the diplomat as her running mate. Sofya's previous political career had been entirely oriented towards the domestic, and while she had had a reputation as something of a political brawler, she had been served well by the Junn Andrsunn's even-keeled temperament. His steadiness was reflected, in a way, by his appearance. In his mid-forties, Andrsunn's ashy-brown hair had a little bit of gray in it, and there was a ghost of a beard on his face, tidily trimmed, a little too long to be five-o-clock shadow, but too short to be called a beard. There was a tiredness to his face, reflected in corners around his eyes, despite those hazel orbs being illuminated by a friendly, wry humor. He was, at present, reading a newspaper in his seat, one leg resting on top of the other.

They were not alone in the car. Looking out the window, seated to the right of Andrsunn, was long-time Labor leader and active Senator Stannis Lynnun. Lynnun had the air of a life-long civil servant, and despite his age and distinction, his suit was clearly an off-the-rack piece. Not poorly made, or exceptionally cheap, but not top of the line, nor tailored specifically to him. He wore a round pair of glasses that had grown thicker over the years as his prescription had grown stronger, but there was a friendliness to his plain face. Where Andrsunn was buttoned-down, but unpretentious, Lynnun was not even particularly buttoned down. His medium-length hair looked brushed, but not combed, and he had a light, graying beard. Where Andrsunn had a moderate build, athletic in his youth, Lynnun was shorter and looked like he had always been wiry.

Despite coming from different political factions, Lynnun and Andrsunn were comfortable together. Both had been members of the March Coup against Eddard Jaal. Where Lynnun had been a friend and equal to Stevan Grimmeburger, who they were going to meet with, Andrsunn had been a trusted subordinate to the now-Generalissimo.

Across from Lynnun, to Rudulf's left, was her chief of staff, Dr. Sara Noevyk. Sara was unusually young in an administration that was, perhaps by international standards, rather young as well. Noevyk, at only twenty-nine years of age, had already completed two doctoral degrees in political science and international relations, and had been an integral part of Rudulf's campaign staff, formulating her lines of attack against the Nationalists, making deals to get crucial endorsements from officials and politicians. Noevyk had probably not single-handedly won the election for Rudulf or anything, but she had been a big part of the winning effort.

Sitting with Sofya, Lynnun, and Andrsunn, Noevyk's youth was even more evident. Sofya knew she was careworn, even for someone in their mid-forties, as was Junn. Lynnun looked his age, approaching sixty years old, having also lived an eventful life. Meanwhile, Noevyk, south of thirty, had the bearing and liveliness of someone in their mid-twenties, not given much more gravity by the sleek pair of glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. Her mannerisms were also a contrast. While the other three residents of the car seemed relaxed (Lynnun more so than Andrsunn, Andrsunn more so than Rudulf), Dr. Noevyk seemed twitchy and anxious.

Where Sofya, Junn, and Stannis were all dressed primarily for the weather, in relatively thick pants, jackets with heavier coats, and flat shoes with good traction, Noevyk seemed like she was almost trying too hard, having donned a gray blouse, a blue tie, to go with a dark (either black or charcoal) blazer. She was wearing a dark skirt that fell to her knees, with similarly-hued tights. Despite the patches of ice on the sidewalks, she had worn dark blue high-heeled pumps. Sofya suspected that Sara had wanted to make a first impression of professionalism to the Generalissimo and the Cabinet, but she might have gone a little overboard.

Luckily, if previous encounters are anything to go by, the General and Cabinet won't care. All business, they are, Sofya thought. Of course, she was a little fidgety herself, even if she was not as restless as her young staffer. She had been fiddling with her wedding ring idly, a habit she had had ever since her marriage. There was at least a little nervousness involved. After all, she did not know why they had been asked to come.

The armored, relatively short limousine pulled up to the Despot's Palace, and the door swung open. Holding the door open and gesturing to the officials that it was time to get out was one of the General's Guard, the unit of Huskaarl infantry that served Grimmeburger as his personal security. He indicated that they should exit the vehicle. After a moment of traded glances, Sara nodded and went first. She was initially a little unsteady, and the large Huskaarl had to give her a hand for balance as she stepped out. Still, there were no embarrassing spills, and she was followed by Stannis Lynnun.

Lynnun, well-acquainted with Grimmeburger and his guards, recognized the particular Huskaarl as Athanarik, an enormous man that he was quite sure could have ripped the door off of its hinges had he wanted to. "Athan," the Laborite Senator greeted him jovially. "Good to see you! How did things...?"

The Huskaarl grinned and nodded. "Mia said yes, sir. She also said to pass on to you that she's a big fan of yours, if I saw you," he added. "It's going to be during Midwinter, if you'd like to come, we can send you an invitation, sir," he continued to the Senator. Lynnun nodded back.

"It would be an honor. Congratulations, and convey them to her as well." Athanarik nodded at Lynnun, who smiled one more time and then kept walking. Junn Andrsunn was the next one out of the car, greeting the Huskaarl pleasantly, but without the familiarity that Stannis just had. It was clear that there was no particular personal connection there, which was perhaps unsurprising given that Andrsunn had spent much of the last several years in Ghish running the embassy there.

Finally, Sofya climbed out of the car, her feet crunching on a thin layer of packed snow. Athanarik saluted her as she straightened, and she waved him down. "Appreciated, Corporal, but I'm not the President yet," she said with a smile. Athanarik nodded as he lowered his hand.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said. "Was the trip over alright?" She nodded. "That's very good to hear, ma'am. The General is waiting inside for you."

"Thank you, Corporal. Stay warm, alright?" Athanarik nodded as Sofya started walking to join the rest of the group. The distance between the curbside and the entrance to the converted palace was not far, although their pace was slowed a little bit by Sara's walking speed. Still, it was only about a minute before they reached the entrance, where a pair of Federal Guardsmen pulled the door open for them. As they entered the atrium of the Palace, there was a short hallway before a large, expansive chamber. The chamber was built of a red stone, floored with marble, and the ceiling was high. The rectangular room had rows of galleries coming off of it, which Sofya knew led to blocks of offices and conference rooms. Looking around the room, she hoped that one day the building might be repurposed as a museum, so that its beauty could be shared better with the public.

Standing a few yards back from where the hall emptied into that large, rectangular chamber, was the nation's head of state for the last fifteen years. Stevan Grimmeburger was of average height, in his early fifties, his dark hair and full beard were both flecked with gray. There was a tiredness to his face, more than a man in his early fifties would generally have, but there was also a steadiness, born of vitality, purpose, and a strong will. He was in good shape. He would not be confused with a bodybuilder, but Sofya had heard rumors that the Last Despot chopped, split, and carried his own firewood, and looking at him, she had no trouble believing it.

He gave the group a smile, tinged with weariness, as they approached. He was accompanied by a retinue of his own, with a taller man at his side. She recognized Tyrrus Grahulm, who was built like a brick house, a few inches taller than his charge, and was wearing a Federal Army uniform. Grahulm's rusty-brown hair was tied back, and his beard was thick, roughly the same color. There was a Captain's insignia on his uniform, and Sofya knew he was the commanding officer of Grimmeburger's personal security forces.

At Grimmeburger's other side were the two leaders of the elected legislature, who would both be continuing their roles with the new administration. Erik Hendrsunn was a tall, rail-thin man with sharp cheekbones and a pointy chin, short brown hair, and level brown eyes. The man was fairly handsome, and he had a pleasant, if somewhat empty politician's smile on. He was the Prime Minister, the elected head of the Assembly, the lower chamber of the Moet, a spokesman and leader of the ruling Populist Coalition in that chamber.

Between him and Grimmeburger was the Chancellor of the Allamunnic States, Anessa Maarks. She was much shorter than Hendrsunn, and only a little bit shorter than Grimmeburger, her longer blonde hair cutting a contrast with the deeper hues of those around her. She had blue eyes and a pleasant smile, and was on the slightly heavier side relative for her height, although she was still not obese by any means. She was in a light-colored blazer and blouse, while Hendrsunn was in a darker suit. Grimmeburger, clearly no longer able to give a shit about protocol, was in the Despot's Palace in blue jeans, dark brown work boots, and a red-and-black flannel shirt.

"President-Elect. Vice-President Elect. Senator. Chief-to-Be." He nodded to all of them, extending his hand to each of them, offering to shake. As each of them shook his hand, he continued. "Thank you for joining us here today. There is a lot to discuss, as far as making sure the transition is a smooth one, but there's a specific matter I wanted to orient you all to today, to discuss and start setting a coherent policy on, moving forward," he said. "Are you all ready to begin?"

Sofya, Junn, Stannis, and Sara all nodded. "Excellent. In that case, if you'll come with me..." he turned, and, with all seven other people falling in behind him, Stevan led them down another hall, through two different turns, before coming to a conference room. The Generalissimo swung the door open and indicated that they should go inside. They filed in, one by one, and found that there were still more officials waiting for them in the room.

The sheer number of people in the conference room was actually somewhat surprising. Once the eight newcomers entered, there were fifteen people in the room. Around one end of the table was an assortment of officials. Sofya recognized a few of them. Jordynn Graagursunn, the Secretary of Foreign Affairs for the last several years of Grimmeburger's administration, was at the head of the table. She was flanked to her left by her deputy, Andrik Filius, to her right by the Director of the Secretary of Defense, and old soldier and instructor named Andrik Daanylsunn.

To Daanylsunn's right was the director of the Federal Department of Intelligence, Abygael Jurgenlunn, a bookish woman who looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, young for her position. Sara knew that was a product of the Federation's political history: the intelligence and internal security apparatus of the Federation had been purged not long after Eddard Jaal had been overthrown, which had also stripped the upper echelons of the organizations uncomfortably bare in many cases. The extent to which the Federal Guard and Federal Security Service had cemented Jaal's rule, and had been filled with his loyalists, had necessitated the purge, despite the damage to the country's intelligence-gathering capacity over the next ten years.

To her right was Anastasya Haraldlunn, the director of the Federal Investigative Service. The FIS in many ways was the successor to the Jaal-era Federal Security Service, serving as a federation-wide police force that investigated crimes committed at a federal level. It often partnered with the Federal Guard to defeat domestic security threats, as well. Haraldlunn was almost as young as Jurgunlunn, and had risen as far as she had, as quickly as she had, for very similar reasons to Abygael. On her right was the head of the Federal Guard, Bryndyn Wyndhoerst, who, again, was unusually young, for similar reasons.

Finally, rounding out that side of the table's inhabitants was the newer head of the Department of Internal Security, Samwyl Vyms. Vyms had actually started off as a Federal Army staff officer under Grimmeburger, placed in charge of an untrustworthy Federal Guard during the early days of the Grimmeburger administration. Vyms was a gravelly, somewhat grouchy man in middle age (perhaps his early sixties), but was exceptionally vital and active for his age. He looked as if he could take apart most of the people in the room, even at about six decades in age. As most of the others stood briefly at the Generalissimo and President-Elect's entry into the room, Vyms simply traded glances with the Generalissimo, who gave him a nod. He gave a quick, if crisp salute to Rudulf, as well.

"General, sir. Madame President, ma'am. Welcome." His voice was one that had chewed its share of glass and gravel, and his face was stone-hard and craggy to match. The others had stood for less than a moment before Grimmeburger waved them down.

"Siddown, siddown," he barked. "I trust introductions aren't necessary, at this stage?" he said, looking to Sofya, who shook her head.

"No, I've already asked just about everyone here to stay on," she said. "So we're acquainted. Good to see you all, again," she said, briefly making eye contact with each of them, carrying herself with her share of authority and poise.

"Excellent. Take a seat wherever you'd like, ma'am. Likewise for you, Junn, Stan, Ms. Noevyk. Tyrrus, could you please make sure the room is secure?" At the request, the Captain of the General's Guard nodded and stepped out. Stevan looked to Abygael. "Director Jurgunlunn, you said there was a video you needed to show us, before we began discussing the Estovnian situation?" he asked.

Jurgunlunn, young, bookish, and pretty, stood up, nodding. "Yessir. Ana will pass around a dossier to you all, while I set this up," she said. She walked over to a projector, briefly tinkering with it before it flickered to life, choosing a file from an encrypted flash drive, and beginning a video.

Witness Interview, August 12 2001, Torrenhuld, UT
Footage from FIS Archives; Case Status: Open
Federal Investigative Service & Federal Intelligence Bureau
Joint Investigation - Lead: FIS Inspector Anastasya Haraldlunn

The footage begins with the view of a comfortable-looking conference room. There are no windows providing views to the outdoors; the few windowed interruptions to the beige walls provide views to a bland, institutional hallway with linoleum tile and walls of a similar hue to the conference room's. There is a utilitarian wooden table with some plastic and metal chairs, upholstered with an ugly magenta fabric to make it more comfortable. The camera's vantage point appears to be in the top corner of the room, providing a view down the length of the table, an easy view of the only apparent door in or out of the room, and a few windows.

Seated on the side of the table opposite the door are two adults. Their features suggest that they are both approximately in their mid-forties. They appear to be a married couple, a man and a woman, of approximately the same age. They are holding hands, and they both have what appear to be wedding rings on their left hands. They are holding hands, the man's right to the woman's left, and their body language suggests they are both quite tense, possibly worried. Both have dirty blonde hair, although the man's appears to be thinning at the crown. The woman's is longish and straigth falling a little below her shoulder. Both are wearing glasses, and their eye colors are not readily apparent from the video. Their attire is similar, the man in a light green button-down shirt and khakis, while the woman is in a blue blouse and dark slacks. The man has a little bit of a gut, but otherwise appears to be of normal build, and is still somewhat handsome, and the woman, although softened by what might be a comfortable lifestyle, looks reasonably active, and although likely more attractive in her youth, is still reasonably comely. Both appear to be in good health.

The door opens and a woman walks in. She looks to be in her late twenties or early thirties and is of approximately average height and build, neither tall nor short, neither fat nor skinny. She does appear to be reasonably active, with a level of athleticism born of effort rather than natural talent. She wears thin-framed glasses, and has almost inky-black hair tied back in a ponytail. She is reasonably attractive, but her expression is one of concern and thought. She is wearing a dark blazer over a light-blue blouse, dark slacks, and functional-looking lace-up shoes. The woman steps forward and sits in a seat on the same side as the door. She lays a notebook on the table, pulls a pen out of her pocket, and nods a greeting to the man and woman.

"Ms. Koelhaaltur, Mr. Koelhaaltur, thank you for coming in to talk with us," she says. "I'm Inspector Ana Haraldlunn. I've been given the lead on your daughter's case," she explains to them.

"What happened to Inspector Roekfyurd?" the woman, Ms. Koelhaaltur asks Haraldlunn. The Inspector sighs and shakes her head.

"Alyx... Inspector Roekfyurd was killed in the line of duty last week," she said. "I'm sorry, I understand you had established a strong rapport with him," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Ms. Koelhaaltur says back. "My condolences," she adds, her tone sounding sincere. Haraldlunn nods, and appears to take a breath and recenter herself.

"Thank you, ma'am. Now, before we begin discussing your daughter and her disappearance, I need to inform you that this conversation is being recorded both via camera and via microphone. I also must inform you that this interview must be voluntary, with your consent necessary. If at any point you do not wish to continue, or do not wish to answer a question which we do not have a warrant for information on, you are free to end the interview and leave without any legal consequence for doing so. Do you understand this and agree to continue under these circumstances?"

Both of the Koelhaalturs nod, before verbally responding with variations of basic affirmatives. Haraldlunn nods, making a note in her book, and then gives instructions. "If you could, for the record, state your full names, occupations, and the reason you filed a missing persons report with the Federal Investigative Service?"

The woman goes first. "My name is Meryda Koelhaaltur. I am a foreman at the Broegsvyl Nuclear Power Plant."

Her husband then continues. "My name is Lukas Koelhaaltur. I am primarily a stay-at-home parent." They exchange a glance, and then he continues. "We filed a missing persons report for our daughter, Faaryna. We last saw her on March... 12th, I think, of this year. It was the day they overthrew the Despot," he said. "Whichever day that was. Pretty sure it was the 12th."

"Could you give us some information on your daughter? Age, occupation, appearance, that sort of thing?" Haraldlunn asks.

"Well, she's twenty this year. She's about... five-and-a-half feet tall, has sort of long hair, she's blonder than either of us," Meryda explains. "She's lovely, and athletic, and we're very proud of h-her." Meryda's voice breaks slightly, but she manages to keep her composure. "She was at the FSS Academy, in her final year there as a cadet. She w--is very excited to serve her country. A regular little patriot," Ms. Koelhaaltur adds.

Anastasya jots the occasional note, but is mostly listening to the Koelhaalturs. "She was at the FSS Academy?" she asks. "Was she an enthusiastic supporter of Despot Jaal?" Hesitation is clear on the Koelhaalturs' faces. There is a possibility that they are scared of possible reprisals for their political views, or those of their family, so Haraldlunn clarifies. "I realize that's a somewhat sensitive question. I ask because during the coup, there was some violence between partisans, between groups supportive and opposed to the Despot. It is not the policy of the FIS, under Generalissimo Grimmeburger to prosecute supporters of the Jaal regime on the basis of their political sympathies."

After a moment of silent consultation, Lukas speaks. "Yes, she w-is. It started when she was in secondary school, but we figured it was just a phase. We started to think her convictions might be genuine when she applied for admission to the FSS Academy," he says. "It was... confusing for us. Mery's a Federalist and I'm a Laborite. Neither of us were fans of Jaal, but we kept our heads down. We're proud of the drive and patriotism our daughter showed, but some of her convictions were concerning, and we hoped she would grow out of them."

"Concerning in what way?"

"Well, some of the things she would say, even if she would try to keep it hidden, were very... I'm not sure how to put it. Close-minded? Bigoted, even, in nature?" Meryda says. "Things about the inherent greatness of the Bergoran peoples. She would sometimes repeat some rather ugly stereotypes about our Jewish neighbors, or about people from outside of Bergora," she explains. "We thought it might be as simple as youthful ignorance, but... do you think she was attacked for saying the wrong thing, maybe?"

Anastasya shakes her head. "I don't know. What I'm looking for are new leads. Anything you might not have told us before. Anyone that might have wanted to hurt your daughter, or that she might have run away with. Something we might not have thought of. You... might be pleased to know that she has not turned up in any morgues, even, as far as we can tell, as a Junna Waalturs¹.

"I--I guess that's something," Meryda replies. "Umm, there's nobody we know, of her friends, or anyone like that, that's missing. You're sure it's not connected to her politics?"

"I don't know. It's hard to tell. I don't -- yet, at least -- have any sort of proof or lead that suggests that that would be the case. Still, it's..." Ana appears to think about something here. "Odd, to say the least. She is not the only FSS cadet to go missing in the immediate aftermath of Jaal's removal. Approximately 64 out of the class of 152 are currently either deceased or unaccounted for," she says. "More of them missing than dead. The ones who are confirmed deceased launched an attack on a Federal Army garrison near the academy once news of the coup filtered out. Faaryna was not among them, and the Federal Army has denied any knowledge of her whereabouts. Best we can think of, maybe they are in hiding somewhere, afraid they will be persecuted." She sighs, then closes her notebook. "I'm afraid I'm out of questions to ask you. Is there anything else you can think of that might give us an idea of where Faaryna might have gone, or been taken?"

Both of the Koelhaalturs shake their heads. "Alright. Well, we'll keep looking. I'll keep you atop of developments as they unfold," Ana says, standing up and offering her hand to each of them. The Koelhaalturs, now standing as well, shake her hand, and she gives a slip of paper to Meryda. "On there is both my office number, and my home phone number. If you think of anything, or need to talk, please, get in touch, and I will do whatever I can to help." She looks at both of the Koelhaalturs. "I'm sorry I don't have more for you today. But we will find your daughter, or I'll die trying." With that, Anastasya escorts the Koelhaalturs from the room. Everyone is still tense as they exit.

The recording ends here.

"So why did you show this to us?" Stevan asked Jurgunlunn. He also glanced over at Anastasya Haraldlunn, who had resumed her seat and had watched the recording that she had featured prominently in with an impassive expression. "I assume this is somehow relevant to how we deal with the latest bout of internal upheaval out of Estovnia," he said. Abygael nodded, turning to address the entire room, which included a panoply of Federal government officials, both incoming and outgoing.

"It is relevant. Because," she said, indicating to an aid to pass out a piece of paper to each of those assembled, "We finally found Faaryna Koelhaaltur. Once we knew what to look for, we were able to dig through the appropriate records to connect some dots. Faaryna Koelhaaltur purchased a bus ticket from Grimmea to Onneria on March 13th, 2001. She purchased another bus ticket from Onneria to Izaakpurt. There is a record of her arriving in Izaakpurt -- the ticket was punched at the bus station there, and she is visible on a CCTV camera in the St. Konrad Bus Station arriving. She seemed to be making for the border -- there's a crossing into Estovnia not far from there. Now, Faaryna Koelhaaltur just flat out disappears. But. There is a record that we were able to obtain from Estovnian immigration officials, of the entry of an Allamunnic national, a "Vera Grigorievica Ljukaneiva" on March 14th, 2001. Now, this is interesting, because we combed birth records for the last fifty years and we can't find a single "Vera Ljukaneiva" that was born or brought to this country in that span. And CCTV at the Grand Terminus Train Station in Izaakpurt tells us that Koelhaaltur was there on the 14th of March... but that she never left. Instead, this "Vera Ljukaneiva", an Allamunnic national that there is no prior record of, leaves the station on a train bound for the Estovnian border, and Faaryna Koelhaaltur drops off the face of the earth.

"Until we start hearing of a 'Vera Ljukaneiva' in connection to the top job at the Estovnian state security agency." As the papers landed on the table in front of the various officials, they saw two different pictures: that of Faaryna Koelhaaltur, in her cadet uniform in an official FSS Academy picture, and a picture of Vera Ljukaneiva from a government-sanctioned rally in Estovnia. There was little doubt that it was the same person in two pictures separated by fifteen years. "Now, we cannot, short of a DNA test, confirm with ironclad certainty that it's the same person, but there seems to be more than sufficient evidence for the conclusion that Vera Ljukaneiva, the head of the Estovnian Committee of State Security, is a natural-born Allamunnic citizen named Faaryna Koelhaaltur." The room was silent.

Grimmeburger was the first to break it. "Excellent work to you and your subordinates, Director," he said. "Now, my question is: is this intended to give us information that we can act on? Appealing to her nationalism? Or is it a simple matter of knowing our enemy?"

"For now, it helps to simply know our enemy. You will find, in the packet of information we gave all of you, Koelhaaltur's FSS Academy evaluation. A few of you might find the broad thrust of the thing familiar, since I recall very similar wording in another evaluation for someone else in this room," Abygael said, looking meaningfully at Grimmeburger, who shrugged and smiled slightly. "I doubt there's an angle to appealing to her feelings as one of our countrymen. She was, by all indications, a staunch Jaal loyalist, who fled when he was overthrown. She indicated political proclivities that made Estovnia a natural fit. No, we have absolutely no reason to think that Ms. Koelhaaltur is any friend of ours.

"And this is important, because there appears to be some degree of internal strife in the Estovnian government," Jurgunlunn explained. "Assets on the ground and in our embassy in Krisuvik indicate that the rounding up of dissidents, allegedly those who voted against the abolishment of the monarchy in a recent parliamentary vote, may in fact be a smokescreen for something more nefarious. At this juncture, we don't have reason to think that Elder Thegn Lítiingursson's regime is in danger (although his position is not as stable as it once was), Ljukaneiva is considered to be among the prime candidates to replace him, should something happen. None of the other likely candidates..." she said, rattling off their names, "have indicated any more reason than Ljukaneiva to be friendly to us. As of now, my counsel is that we wait to see what happens next: it could be nothing, or it could be the start of serious upheaval," she said. "But we should be prepared to act against a government that might upset the current balance of power we've managed to establish between the Estovnians, Rietumish, and Eesti. The last thing we need is our neighbors to the east united."

"What are you suggesting?" The speaker was the elderly Secretary of Defense, Andrik Daanylsunn, "Certainly not destabilizing or invading a neighbor?" He glanced over at Grimmeburger, then, wondering what his one-time student would say. That dynamic was one Noevyk found interesting. She was not sure how Daanylsunn would handle serving under Sofya, a civilian leader.

"I am suggesting that while we would not be doing so, at least not at the present time, but I'd like the Federal Army to review that contingency plan just in case. I don't think we'll need it, but, as they say, plan for the worst, hope for the best." He glanced over to Sofya. "Hopefully, Madame President, you won't need to use it, but we'll make sure we do our homework to leave the best-possible position for you that we can." Sofya nodded back at Grimmeburger. Then, he looked to Haraldlunn. "Director Haraldlunn, have you notified the Koelhaalturs?"

Anastasya shook her head. "No, I was waiting for confirmation before doing so. It's potentially sensitive enough information that it seemed prudent to get approval before releasing it. I can also request that the Koelhaalturs agree not to disclose it. That said, I have asked them to meet with me tomorrow, so I'll either give them the truth, or an approved story that might give them some peace of mind," she said. "I would prefer to give them the truth, though, sir. I made a promise to them. If reasonably possible and prudent, I would like to keep it."

After silently conferring with Jurgunlunn, Stevan nodded. "Go ahead and tell them the truth. Ask them to keep it as quiet as they reasonably can, though. It doesn't seem especially sensitive, but it might not be something they want as public knowledge, for their own sake," he said. "Security and intelligence work makes a person a lot of enemies." Anastasya nodded, giving a quiet "yes, sir."

"So when it comes to the unfolding situation in Estovnia, with the mass arrests..." Rudulf began. "Where do we stand on that?"

Here, Jordynn Graagursunn spoke. "At present, we've simply made a formal protest regarding the mass arrests. It's fairly pro forma, but unfortunately the Estovnians likely know we aren't likely to take direct action over it. They're too potentially useful an ally to alienate over what is, distastefully, part of the norm. We've also made an offer to shelter dissidents and 'undesireables' in exile, as an alternative to the deprivation of life or liberty from Estovnian nationals," she explained. "Ambassador Baevyrn has requested that we schedule a meeting with Lítiingursson, and I've been trying to work on that, to see if there's an alternative resolution that can be reached."

"Does Ambassador Baevyrn think he can get them to relent?"

"Unlikely. But he might be able to mitigate some of the more unpleasant fates some of those convicted of seditious activity might face. It might also leave the possibility open of receiving their royal family into exile, if their internal debate over the abolishment of the monarch has legs and has the potential to turn violent," she said. "The important thing is that we keep the Estovnians talking to us. We want to keep our channels with them open. Without that, there is a risk they will throw in with the Eesti and Rietumish, which is something we cannot risk. Without that, we are vulnerable to direct invasion, even with NCTO to back us up."

"Thank you for explaining that, Director," Sofya said with a respectful nod to the foreign minister. "Is there anything else we can do about this?"

Grimmeburger smiled somewhat sadly. "Unfortunately, President-Elect Rudulf, you're going to find that there's a lot of waiting involved with this job. Sometimes there's not a lot else you can do. Make a decision, wait, and hope for the best. The best we can do at the moment is make sure that our contingency plans for a number of possible situations are ready and up to date," he said. "But it's always important to stay abreast of these situations. Speaking of..." he said, looking to Wyndhorst and Vyms. "Think you're up to the task of handling Estovnian refugees, screening them, and getting them settled, Directors?" he asked them. Wyndhorst nodded, but Vyms sighed.

"Yes, General. Although it would be one hell of a lot easier if you'd give me the old facilities on Kaalsten Island back," he grumbled. "Don't like the idea of processing the lot of them in Allamunnic lands."

Grimmeburger chuckled, but looked as if this was well-trod territory. "I've told you before, Director, that we can't use them until they've been refurbished. Every human rights watch organization would have our heads if we started using it. We'd lose refugees to pneumonia alone if we used that place," he said. "You're just going to have to wait, Sam." With that, satisfied at the explanation, Vyms subsided. "Anything else on this subject?" he asked the room at large. The question was not a challenge or accusation, merely a question to be asked before other business was tackled. "Excellent. What else have we got?" he asked the room at large.

Daanylsunn got up. "Well, I have some reports based on the first major exercises with the new Olyfynt tanks," he offered. Grimmeburger nodded an acknowledgement. The aging Director of Defense began to speak, and Noevyk settled in, preparing to observe and learn about what she would be up against, what would be expected, helping to keep this Bergoran bastion of liberty and liberalism running smoothly.