The Turbulent Bay of Chains (Attn: Greater Dienstad)

[Eitoan]

The slave trade agreement between the Empire of Potthan and Regime Ralkovia brings new challenges to the western continent of Greater Dienstad

The Bay of Chains, The Bay of Chains
Sea of Death, Water of Pains
Who will hear the sad refrains
Of the boys who stray in the Bay of Chains?
Eitoan Sea Shanty

Vladarsik, Eitoan
Office of National Intelligence Organization
The Day after the Yolatsky Murder
https://forum.nationstates.net/search.php?st=0&sk=t&sd=d&sr=posts&keywords=Yolatsky&t=390014&sf=msgonly&ch=-1

A grey day in Vladarsik, no more oppressive than in The Tomb, the closely guarded, grim cinder block structure tucked away on Oak Street in the capital’s North Hill neighborhood. One of many dreary structures, this one had it’s own reputation. It was the headquarters of the Office of National Intelligence Organization, Eitoan’s leading civilian domestic and foreign information gathering agency, one with it’s own murky heritage. Traditionally rife with Ralkovian sympathizers, President Shrdlu’s election brought sweeping changes to ONIO, cleaning out those with divided loyalty to the nation’s former imperial overlord. But lingering doubts remained. How deep had the housecleaning gone? Can midlevel operatives on the continent be trusted? Even with the fall of the Raskovs and Eitoan occupation of part of Ralkovia, doubts remained.

Today the staff of Section 7, on The Tomb’s third floor was on edge. It went badly. The Yolatsky affair in Potthan had gone horribly wrong. A war hero murdered. Agent apprehended and drummed off to service on a slave ship. A grade A fuckup. Section head Zizek would have answers. And he would have them at 8:10 AM, sharp. At 8:08 A and B shuffled into his office, tired, their second and third cups of coffee respectively in hand. They shut the door and seated themselves in front of his desk.

Zizek leaned forward in his chair, bowed his head slightly, and clasped his meaty hands in front of him.

“Field Operations Review is not pleased.”, he started. “Give me what you have so far. There will be plenty of time to sort this out further as more comes to light. But give me something I can pass on high for now. Give me the rundown on this mess, from target identification through operative selection and training and expected contact points post completion.”

A, the Southern Continent Desk Manager, a middle aged bureaucrat survivor of the recent housecleaning spoke first.

“Word came down from embassy sources in Dayalum and other sources in Aman that a slave trade deal was coming down between Regime Ralkovia and Potthan, about 5 weeks ago. There was the followup, the usual from Foreign Affairs requesting us to see what we could do to discourage the arrangement. The request followed standard protocol, given in outline and detail in the operation folder. With the greenlight to go ahead with discouragement three weeks ago our operators on the ground in Dayalum reached out to sources we’d used before, the objective being a target close enough to the deal so that our purpose would be unmistakable, but not directly connected to the Palace or Potthani armed forces.”
B, A’s assistant for Project Planning and Review continued.

“Our source, a partner in a well connected Dayalum law firm identified Adam Yolansky, a go-between for Potthani shippers on the Big Dikk to agent Harvatin as one of the key movers of the agreement. The weakness, from what I can see, was in Harvatin’s confusion of the two names. It’s easily understandable. Or Yolansky may have been protected by underworld misdirection of Harvatin. We’re dealing with some shady characters, of course. And that’s where the whole ball of wax wend south, so to speak.

“So to speak” fumed in Zizek’s thought cloud. It was written on his face. He addressed his two underlings softly.

“Well, well OK. That’s pretty bare bones, but I can work with it for now. Now how do we fix this?”

A nodded slightly to B. B put forth his proposals.

“I see several ways we could go. We could try an extraction in Potthan, but the likelihood of success is very low. Everyone was surprised by the speed of sentencing there, although we shouldn’t have been. He’s secured in navy custody. Such an extraction would be bloody and would probably make the situation worse. A better bet would be termination before onboarding the Dagger. This could be a workplace accident, or even a sniper or quick kill operation. Security quayside is thought to be loose, so that could be the opportunity. Even better would be termination en route to Ralkovia. His fellow inmate crew are a pretty suspect bunch, and we still do have those contacts with certain elements in Potthan. Those Barjaani girls they’re sending off to service the Ralkos aren’t a happy lot, and they’re fighters. Possibly some contact through Barjaani intelligence”.

Zizek cut him off. “No. No Barjaan intelligence. This is our mess, to cover to wiggle out. There’s no sense of inflaming Dayalum further.”

B dropped the proposal. “Then probably the one with the best chances is termination or extraction at debarkation. We’ve got good contacts in all the Big Dikk ports, many of them have worked for us before. Life is cheap under the regime. Poor bastards will knife you for a cabbage. This takes the operation out of Potthani jurisdiction”.

Zizek mulled it over for a minute or two. His expression lightened.

“I think we have our plan, gentlemen. You two sketch out a rough draft, and get it to me tomorrow morning. I will set up a meeting with the Ralkovian Desk after review for the handoff to them.

---

Vladarsik
Executive Residence, Cabinet Conference Room
4 Days later

It was 2:10, and the conference room had cleared out after the weekly Cabinet meeting. President Shrdlu lingered behind, reviewing the latest information, as the coffee service set up for the Bay of Chains Working Group, requested two days prior. The participants filtered in; 2 operatives from ONIO, Defense Secretary General Eugene Maska and two aides most familiar with Bay of Chains operations, and Foreign Secretary Randall Field who was followed by an attractive blonde, his advisor on political affairs in the Bay of Chains/Big Dikk area.

Shrdlu convened the group after they loaded up coffee and seated themselves. “I want to know, in general terms what direction we’re taking in Potthan. Are we remediating this mess? How is ONIO going to cover this. Don’t go into detail.

The lead intelligence operative, an earnest, slightly built young man took point. “From all indications we have the Palace thinks this was a business deal gone bad, so we’re tiptoeing around any action on the ground in country. And we’ve pulled out some of the principals involved.”

The President seemed pleased. “Well, good. The less said the better. Let’s just get to the worst case scenario. General, what are our vulnerabilities down there, and what are we prepared to do about any significant threats?”

General Maska rose to his full height and addressed the Working Group. “We have three contingencies that should prove effective if all else fails. Our goal in the Bay of Chains is to protect access to the Great Inland Sea, vital as you know to transport of Eitoan men and material to Federal Ralkovia. This calls for fleet operations along the bay’s eastern littoral, and in the Aman Passage connecting the bay to the Inland Sea. And our current naval deployment is adequate for this purpose.

But if the decision comes down to take a more active hand in discouragement of this Potthani-Regime Ralkovian trade, we see three possibilities. First would be interdiction of Potthani Ralkovia bound marine traffic in the Bay. This will, of course, require repositioning the preponderance of our fleet into those waters, thinning out our presence in the Northern Vanguat and the Jesheoda Channel. To put it bluntly, we’d have to bet all our chips. Second would be riverine traffic harassment on the Big Dikk. We’ve been doing this sporadically since late in the Ralkovian war, drone and missile attack mostly. It has been effective. Of course, this, along with the first approach could be construed to be an act of war.

Lastly would be cementing our position in the Principality of Agar with closer ties to the republic. Possibly a binding, legal and military tie with Agar.”

Cross chatter stopped cold. You could hear a pin drop.

“We have a strong presence there, have had one since we rolled in during the war. But a permanent base, in basically Eitoan territory on the Great Inland Sea shortstops the need for a big navy in the Bay. It establishes us as here to stay in the mid-continent, and we can forget about Potthan and Barjaanistan.”

Shrdlu sat back, thinking carefully about what Maska just said. The first two ideas would be most certainly seen as war by any sober analysis. And it would commit the nation to involvement in the Bay of Chains, an area seen as insignificant by most Eitoans and an unstable power keg by successive administrations. But annexation of Agar? How would that work? The accession of Istlypu in the long distant 1960’s was an expensive proposition, diverting money from existing Eitoan policies, the region lagging the rest of the country until the early 21st century. Agar was even more backward, bigger, and more ethnically diverse! How would Eitoan do that under the constitution? As a unitary state, a federalism designed to incorporate a former monarchy could unleash yet unknown regional and social divisions. Unthinkable!

“Thank you, General”, the President answered. He then led a discussion of the costs of those military alternatives, which bogged down in detail. After 45 minutes, a headache forming, Shrdlu thanked the Working Group and dismissed them.

“Randy, Mrs. Stegman, please stay.” he asked.

Secretary Field and Stegman sat back down, closer in to Srdlu.

Shrdlu spoke to them.

“Look, this is startling. I can see this spiraling out of control. War over a fucking slave agreement? Fundamental transformation of the government and society? We’ve got to do better than that! What can you give me?”.

Field indicated to Stegman to proceed.

She spoke in a calm, confident voice. “Mr. President, we should start immediately finding a path to buy out that Ralkovian contract. Through trade groups, the embassy in Potthan, their embassy here, or third parties, let us put together an offer to the Potthanis for Eitoan mining technology, even engineers on site. Even at the cost of a subsidy, I think it’s worth it.

Another offer we could keep in our back pocket would be a competing proposal to Potthan. Get another slaver state to undercut Regime Ralkovia. I’m not quite sure how we’d arrange this. There are problems. Like all Eitoans I don’t like dealing with the Ordenites, but rerouting the slave trade off the Big Dikk and to that Oredenite horror story would get this whole mess off our plate, slap the Regime, and provide safer passage for the Potthani. Or possible some companies in Castille, however far fetched that would be. This requires some thought.

One of the first things we must do is seek Golden Throne mediation. They’re straddling the line here on continent. They’re the big dog, of course, and a mainstay of the Mutual Assistance Agreement, but their reticence on going with Federal Ralkovia accession to the NMAA is at odds with their sponsorship of Potthan. They’ve got to see that.

Shrdlu grunted agreement, and spoke. “Yeah, go ahead with all the above. Any military action is going to be seen as a move toward an empire. I’d catch hell from the left for the rest of my term. There goes our domestic budgets, up goes taxes. And incorporating Agar – nobody’s ready to go federal here.

We’ve always avoided the Bay of Chains. Wars there have always been an expensive, inconclusive mess. And I don’t know if the off-continent NMAA members would be enthused about a pissing match over some minor slave trade, especially if we can’t even get Federal Ralkovia into the alliance in some capacity. If we march into Agar and send off Prince Harold, we’d be seen as heading into empire. And nobody wants that, here or overseas.

Go on all non-war ideas. Keep me posted."

---

Port of Numerav
Big Dikk River
Regime of Ralkovia
21 Days later

A fog enveloped the wharf as the INS Dagger safely docked, it’s passage up the Big Dikk laden with unhappy cargo untrammeled by Eitoan drones or air raids.

The first mate was dispatched to sign the appropriate paperwork consigning the Barjaani girl combatants to their awful fate.

He was met at the gangplank by a rough looking Ralkovian customs officer. Further down the dock a team of medics set up a makeshift screening facility.

After initial formalities, the Ralkovian pointed to the facility and informed the sailor, gruffly “There. All ship’s crew to screen for diseases. No exception! Military and civilian! Required before unload!”

The sailor, surprised, haggled with the customs officer briefly, then gave up.

Back up the gangplank he went.

A steady dribble of Potthani crew filed through health inspection. The officers. The deckhands. The cargo operators. The galley crew. The cleaning crew, mostly prisoners themselves in rough gray ill fitting outfits.

Agent Harvatin, by appearances a Ralkovian himself, stepped up to the attending medics. They took his temperature. He gave them all required bodily fluids.

“This one. You. Blondie. You, come with us”

Two beefy Ralkovian orderlies seized Harvatin. They shuffled him off behind the medical facility, and out of view.

The sailors could do nothing. Harvatin was on Regime Ralkovian territory now.

[The Macabees]

Vladarsik, Eitoan: Imperial Embassy of the Golden Throne
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When one was called upon by a kríerlord, one hastened to it. And such was the case of Jogornos Meleyo Jiramen.

A Frommian of modest birth, Meleyo's rise through the ranks of the imperial bureaucracy was nothing short of impressive. This was especially so when one considered that only until recently said bureaucracy almost entirely consisted of Díenstadis, and even now they were the unquestioned majority in all posts. For a Frommian, especially one of low birth, to become the head of a diplomatic mission to a foreign country was an extraordinary achievement. Of course, it was a mission to what many considered something of a pariah state, Potthan.

No matter the status of Meleyo's job and of the government to which he was responsible for representing the Second Empire of the Golden Throne, events were making Potthan more important than most had thought. It was a result of this evolution of events in western Greater Dienstad that found Meleyo in Eitoan, the leading Greater Dienstadi state in the far west. Important he must have become, because Kríerlord Maken Heroto had been adamant that the jogornos to Potthan make his way north in no less than two days. It wasn't as if Meleyo had plenty of work to occupy him back in Agadesh, with many of the gritty details of the base for arms deal yet to be fleshed out and conflict along the Barjaani-Potthani Frontier flaring up again. But, when a Kríerlord called, one answered.

He arrived at the embassy in Vladarsik in a sleek, black Tango et Kartuma four-door autonomous sedan. It was inconspicuous in that it lacked flags or any markings of an official diplomatic vehicle of the Golden Throne's diplomatic corps, but few anywhere in the world could afford a Tango et Kartuma MX class sedan except the rich. Its dark, tinted windows were impossible to see through, and so the guard motioned for the rear right-hand side passenger window to be lowered. Meleyo did so, revealing his face, and the guard scanned the vehicle to propel it forward again after an emotionless, "Welcome, Jogornos Jiramen."

Most imperial embassies were dreary things when looked upon from the outside. Characteristic of them were their tall, grey concrete walls and equally as colossal metal gates which were precautions against attack. Once inside, the drab utilitarianism of the external layer gave way to all the glory and beauty of imperial splendor. Along a cobblestone path the vehicle made its way to the front courtyard of the core embassy building, just below the thick mauve marble columns that sprout up from the marble stairs leading to the wide principal front door.

An attendant was already waiting for him and she opened the door for the jogornos. Meleyo stepped out and nodded, saying, "Thank you, young lady."

"My name is Maia Andalus, Your Grace," she answered with a smile, although in her words there was a certain acid.

He nodded again, "Ms. Andalus, then."

"Come, "she said, "His Excellency, Kríerlord Surr, awaits you with His Grace Topoken in the jogornos' library study. You are late."

"Yes, yes," he replied, a bit vexed, "I had important matters to attend to before I could leave Potthan. Anyway, it's not your place to judge a jogornos, child. Men of import have their reasons and it's not your place to know them."

She leered at him for a second and pursed her lips, but she said nothing more of it and instead led him up the stairs and into the building. Its halls were busy as diplomatic staff and others hurried one way or another. There were no civilians here, as they were corraled through the other side of the complex grounds. Somewhere behind one of the doors that Meleyo and his attendant passed was a room full of low ranking staff working with interminable crowds of civilians looking for visas, paperwork, or countless other things, divided from them only by a layer of bulletproof glass. He saw none of that, though, and was instead taken to an elevator with stainless steel doors. They rose only a couple of floors before exiting again, and through halls they walked again until arriving at a room with closed walnut wood door. She opened them to reveal the library study.

Inside, Jogornos Riken Topoken and Kríerlord Lara Surr were sitting on winged chairs of pleated brown leather, with an empty one by them. A narrow glass table carried on it a glass decanter, half-full with a liquid that looked the color of dark honey. They each had a glass in their hand and there was a third face down next to the decanter. The two of them were flanked by enormously tall shelved walls that were largely invisible behind the books that decorated them. Dozens of rows stretched back into the darkness of the library's rear and Meleyo was unsure that he could see exactly where it ended. But, overall the library study was anything but dark, an immense flood of light coming in from the large glass dome that came to a peak perhaps seventy feet above them.

A man in a black and white tuxedo came to meet them, who shooed Maia away and guided Meleyo to the open chair. The two seated men were talking between themselves and seemed utterly undisturbed by Meleyo's arrival, until the servant interrupted them, "Your Excellency and Your Grace, His Grace Jogornos Jiramen." Turning to Meleyo, he added, "Please, take a seat. I will serve you."

"Welcome, Jogornos Jiramen," said the kríerlord, not troubling himself with the honorific 'Your Grace.' "We have been waiting for you. But, your arrival is more timely than I thought, for Jogornos Topoken and I were just discussing the situation here in the west and I would like to know your thoughts."

"And what were you discussing?" asked Meleyo.

Turning to the other jogornos, the kríerlord said, "Why don't you explain?"

The servant handed Meleyo the glass, now a third filled with drink, as Jogornos Topoken spoke. "With pleasure, Your Excellency. As you know, things have changed in this part of the world. Our primary adversary in the west is no more after having collapsed in the war against Eitoan and the Romani-Marsh Union, but this new order comes with challenges of its own. One of those pertains to Potthan and another to Eitoan, and particularly how those two challenges intersect. I suppose that with Eitoan the primary challenge consists of satisfying our principal western ally while all the same exploring external or, if you will, third-party diplomatic options. It's not easy when Eitoan is perhaps the supreme state in the far west, now that Ralkovia is but a shadow of its former self."

Meleyo held open his mouth slightly as he allowed himself to smell what was in his glass. "A contradiction on the nose," he interrupted. "I get a sweetness that gives way to spice."

He took a sip. "Peaty on the palate, but honeyed on the finish. Quite good. What is this?"

"Autensheno 36," replied the kríerlord. "A gift to the embassy here in Eitoan from His Imperial Majesty Fedor I."

Meleyo raised his glass, "To His Imperial Majesty Fedor I."

"To His Imperial Majesty," repeated the others, raising their own in concert.

Turning to the other jogornos, Meleyo said, "You were speaking of challenges, Topoken. I understand Eitoan's. What do you think Potthan's is?"

"Actually," answered the kríerlord before Topoken could reply, "that is exactly what we wanted to ask you."

He took another sip of the Autensheno 36. "If I told my father I was drinking this he wouldn't have believed me. Then again, if I had the chance of telling him that I was the empire's head ambassador to Potthan he most likely wouldn't have believed me about that, either. Strange, the twist of progress and the flexibility of fate, to see a poor Frommian like me drink the finest Díenstadi viska with a fellow diplomat and a kríerlord as company."

"I am sure that you father believes the imperial money you can now afford to shower upon him," said Surr.

Meleyo shook his head, solemnly. "My father is dead, killed in the final years of war before the reunification."

There was a silence from the other two, but Meleyo spoke through it, "The primary diplomatic challenge in Potthan is its political stability, a stability that is threatened by a variety of geopolitical frictions in the west. First, the mounting unrest along the disputed Barjaani-Potthani Frontier and the added complication of Castillian involvement in Barjaanistasn. Second, the connection between Potthan and the old Ralkovian regime's rump state at the base of the River Dikk. Third, our military arrival in the area in the form of Kríerstatón Potthan and our unambiguous intention, which is to control the movement of ships in and out of the river. Fourth, and I suppose what you were referring to, Jogornos Topoken, the prisoner of war slave trade between the Ralkovian rump state and Potthan — something that I am sure the Eitoanis seek to suppress."

"Yes, that is the particular challenge that I am thinking of," said Topoken. "You've heard the news, the arrest of an Eitoani citizen in Potthan was not taken lightly up here, especially when it was found out that this man was destined to hard labor in Regime Ralkovia."

"He was a murderer, no?" inquired Meleyo.

This time, the kríerlord spoke, "A murderer with no name? Neither the Potthanis nor the Eitoanis have ID'd the man, yet he's been quickly tried and put on a ship north. Something doesn't square, does it?"

"I suppose not," replied Meleyo. "What then?"

Topoken sighed, "We aren't sure, yet, but we think that the Eitoani man might have been an intelligence agent. We did some digging on the man he murdered, Mr. Adam Yolatsky. Our own agents have collected data suggesting that Yolatsky is more than what he seems on the surface. Then again, given the status of slavery in Potthan, not to mention Barjaanistan, I suspect that anybody with business acumen is more than what meets the eye."

"Why hasn't this evidence come to me, the jogornos in Potthan?" asked Meleyo, somewhat peeved.

"It was considered more relevant to Eitoani affairs," said the kríerlord. "Besides, you're seeing it now." He handed Meleyo a folder with a thick stack of papers inside. "Enjoy."

Finishing his viska, Meleyo was about to stand but the servant beat him to it. The tuxedo-clad man took his glass and asked, "Another, Your Grace?"

"No. No, thank you," Meleyo answered, shaking his head. Then, "Your Excellency, Potthan is an important piece in the game out here in the far west and they grow more important by the day. Our control of the River Dikk rests on our basing rights there, and our basing rights there are courtesy of the Potthani emperor and government. It behooves me to know of evidence and intelligence like what's here" — he motioned with the folder he was just given — "and I expect to be kept informed. Otherwise, I will not be able to preform my duties."

A thin smile crept onto Surr's face. "You will be kept informed, Jogornos Jiramen. Why don't you take another drink? Gerpán" — he snapped his fingers at the servant — "pour him."

"I appreciate your generosity, Your Excellency, but—"

Surr waved his reservations away. "But nothing, jogornos. We have a long night ahead of us."

"With all due respect," Meleyo replied, "I have much to do in Potthan. Things are not as...tidy as they are here, in Eitoan."

"Tidy," mused the other diplomat. "You insult me?"

"No, no," hastened Meleyo, "My point is—"

But, the kríerlord interrupted him again. "He meant nothing like that, Jogornos Topoken. Your work in Potthan, Jogornos Jiramen, is keeping you busy, of that I have no doubt. I apologize that I have not been able to schedule more time with you this year, but Nicaro and the war with the Reich have taken all of my attention, as you can imagine. That's not to say that Potthan is unimportant, quite the opposite. We wouldn't be planning the stationing of an entire kríergrup out there if it wasn't. Your work is crucial for the destiny of the empire, I assure you. But, our work in Eitoan is even more important and, as is becoming more and more evident, related to our objectives in Potthan. And you should suspect the potential significance of what is going on, otherwise why would a kríerlord have bothered to call you to his presence? The bottom line is that you will stay here until I say you are free to return, so enjoy the Autensheno."

In another setting, Meleyo may have grunted from frustration. There, he said nothing, but sunk just a bit into his seat, as if giving up his resistance against staying any longer. "Very well, so what next? What do we do about this Eitoani man who was arrested?"

"All work and no fun," said Topoken. He raised his glass and snapped his fingers with the other hand. The servant came to replenish his drink, doing the same with the kríerlord. "There is plenty of time for business tonight. Right now, we drink."

The kríerlord rose his glass to the others. "To His Imperial Majesty Fedor I."

"To His Imperial Majesty," said the other two.

[Potthan]

Golden Palace, Emperor District, Agadesh, Potthan

The entire throne room of the palace was shaken. When the emperor received news of the death of one of his friends and major suppliers of Barjaani servants, all of the servants went quiet. The emperor seemed pale and rose up from his throne. The young guardsman assigned to protect Adam stood in awe of his emperor. To be fair, the emperor is quite a large man. 6 foot 6 and 260 pounds of muscle he has seem more combat than most legates and he's only 35.

The emperor made the short walk from his throne to the humble guard, standing only two feet from him. "It's okay. Mistakes are made. I am not to judge, the almighty God is" emperor Jericho says reassuringly, to which the guardsman responded with a quiet sigh of relief as Jericho makes his way back to his throne. All of the sudden a loud bang roars in the halls of the palace. Servants cower and cover their ears in petty attempts to help their sudden tinnitus. The guardsman's body falls on the floor, behind him one of Jericho's henchmen stands holding his service pistol. The emperor sits and exclaims "Which is why I've sent you to him. May God forgive your ignorance and inaction." and gestures other henchmen to clean up the mess.

INS Dagger, Big Dikk River

"We're clean across the board Captain. No signs of Barjaanistan interception vessels along the Dikk. 30 mikes until we reach Ralkovia." said Specialist Giza of the Imperial Navy. "Excellent Giza, it's important these girls reach their destination. It's a shame they're doomed to such a bleak fate but it's for the betterment of Potthan. Send Jahlinko to check on the support crew and the new guy. That foreigner." said the old ship Captain. Nearing retirement, Captain Johan wants to make sure one of his last missions is successful. Giza saluted his superior and made his way to the barracks. "Jahlinko! Captain wanted you to see if the taskmasters down under needed any help with the servants." shouted Giza. "Yes Specialist!" Jahlinko responded.

Jahlinko made his way to the lower level of the vessel, hearing shouting as he walks the stairs down. "You dumb bitch! You're lucky you're going to Ralkovia because if it were up to me you'd be fucking dead or worse!" one of the taskmasters shouted at one of the Barjaani servant girls as Jahlinko entered the scene. "Having woman troubles again? How many times do I have to tell you Barjaani girls don't like having their asses slapped" Jahlinko said to the taskmaster jokingly. "It's not that smartass, this one's just angsty. You ask me she's too young and hot headed for this, but I suppose she can be broken." the taskmaster said. Jahlinko replied, "Should I send her to Giza's quarters? I'm sure he'd be happy to correct her bad behavior. Been a while since I've seen him bring his family's whip out." The taskmaster said "Nah, the Ralkovians want her they can correct her. Not us. Thanks for checking on us, we've got it here". Jahlinko made his way to the bridge to report.

[Eitoan]

Port of Numerav
Regime of Ralkovia


Harvatin dragged along with the orderlies, into the makeshift facility.

The shorter orderly saluted a uniformed Medical Service Inspection Officer, dressed in black uniform, visored hat, high, polished heavy boots, riding crop in a gloved hand. The officer, in his early 50’s showed all the hallmarks of a highborn Ralkovian, likely transitioned into service to the Regime after the collapse of the empire in western Ralkovia. He stepped forward. The orderlies shrunk back, servilely. The officer spat out a curt dismissal, and Harvatin found himself face to face with this new challenge.

“You. Into the dressing room behind you. Change into the gown there and await further instructions. Do not leave” commanded the black clad medic.

Puzzled, a bit wary, Harvatin did as he was told. He emptied his pockets. Emptied is a little too strong here; he possessed only his Potthani Prisoner Identification. He doffed his crude pants and shirt, and put on what appeared to be rough working clothes; a well worn pair of overalls, red flannel shirt, and heavy work boots. The work boots seemed familiar. Those were similar to the footwear issued to him in his 4 months as a POW in the Ralkovian War, a cold, dull existence cut short after a prisoner exchange, which cycled him back into Eitoan hands. So well had he hidden his identity that he enjoyed his captivity in the relative luxury of a brick factory. The penalty for espionage was immediate death.

So, he wouldn’t be going back aboard the Dagger. Would he be going anywhere, or would Ralkovia be his grave, alone, vanished to the world? There was a tinge of anticipation.

A ramshackle produce truck lumbered up to the outpost, it’s cargo 2 lonely cabbages. Another orderly signed for the treasure, rare fresh vegetable matter in a country surviving on food paste, a euphemism for ground up bugs, wheat chaff, and potato peelings. These were the meagre rations for the day for the medical staff of 15. And most of that was destined for the plate of the Inspection Officer.

The Officer reemerged presently, his appearance snapping Harvatin back into the real world.

“You – follow me”.

Harvatin paced behind The Officer, keeping a respectful distance. They passed through the back entrance of the facility, where the produce truck was idling. It’s driver, a burly man of 6’ 4” and another worker, clad similar to Harvatin, but shorter, thinner and younger stood by the vehice.

The Officer motioned to the driver. The men seized Harvatin and threw him roughly into the truck’s bed. Then they covered him with a tarpaulin. The truck drove off base, and through the rough waterfront of Numerav. The ride jostled Harvatin. He shifted from his back to his side to his stomach, trying to get comfortable, all in vain as they plied the potholed streets of Numerav. On either side knots of unhappy workers milled around their plant entrances. The whole city was a portrait in gray. Spared Alliance occupation in the war, Numerav was not immune to Eitoan punitive missile strikes and air raids. Factory work above the surface paid slightly better than toil underground, but at the end of each shift laborers went home to their mole like existence. It was a grim life, despite exhortations both by surface billboards and incessant subterranean propaganda to “All Hail Our Mighty Penada Clique” and “Work for the Fatherland! Ralkovia Shall Rise Again!”. These were largely ignored, or scorned by the common folk living a mushroom existence.

The truck continued on, along the former Imperial Road N6, heading due east. Harvatin could perceive a rise in altitude. They passed grim blocks of apartments, then rows of brick, decrepit two story houses, all the same, until they passed into the countryside. Night fell. The truck stopped, pulled over to a small diner. The driver and his assistant stepped out.

Uncovering Harvatin, they brought him to the ground.

“Piss time!” announced the driver.

The three dropped trou, shielded by the truck from the diner, and drained their bursting bladders. The driver held Harvatin back. He sent his assistant into the restaurant, opened the cab, and sat his prisoner down next to him.

“Smoke?” The driver offered Harvatin a cigarette.

“Zhivagos. Ugh” thought Harvatin. But he needed something to steady his nerves. He accepted the coffin nail and lit up. Choked. Harsh.

The driver took out a hand-held device, obsolete to most of the rest of the world, and found a communication app. It was not commonly seen in Regime Ralkovia. Indeed, it could bring the death penalty. The driver uttered “Stressed Desserts. I repeat, Stressed Desserts.”

The message encoded on the device and made it’s way by special long wave relay across the Line of Control that divided Ralkovia. The packet then transferred into a secure network owned and operated by the Eitoan Central Business Services Corporation. Almost all communications infrastructure in the Federation of Ralkovian States was owned and operated by the Eitoan Central Business Services Corporation. Its destination – ONIO Field Headquarters, Eitoan Occupation Zone.

2 minutes later the message appeared on the driver’s device “WCPP2 30V02 9JJI2”. The application disappeared from the screen.

The driver’s assistant returned with three plates of dinner – a pile of stringy, greasy beef and a scoop of gummy, overcooked barley. This was to be Harvatin’s staple diet on the road.

On they drove into the dark Ralkovian night. In the next day the journey continued, past poverty stricken farms and pastures, dotted with run down shacks. Occasionally what appeared to be a manor, maybe home to a Lord or even a Duke under the old Empire was seen in the distance.

They drove for 2 more days and nights, the 2 Ralkovians taking turns sleeping. Sleep did not come easily to Harvatin. Toward dawn on the next morning the truck pulled onto a steep dirt road. They crossed two creeks on rickety bridges. Climbing a hill, they levelled off and faced a relatively well ordered farm, a smart manor house surrounded by fields of luscious and valuable cabbages.

A coat of arms on a stone gatepost before the great house identified it as property of the Traskov family, prominent under the Empire, with business connections throughout Greater Dienstad.

---

Vladarsik
Department of Foreign Affairs
Secretary Field’s Private Study

Secretary Field faced his 2 younger assistants informally, the three seated in front of his desk. He preferred to keep these kind of brainstorming sessions as loose as possible. All were clutching their mid-afternoon coffee.

Marilyn Stegman was seated to his right, this time in a smart gray business suit and red and white stripped blouse. At 49 she bore the title of Senior Strategic Planning Analyst, but was much more than the title to Secretary Field. A lifer at Foreign Affairs, Marilyn scored highest for her cohort in the Foreign Service Entrance Exam, a feat only equaled by 2 other women. Most of her career had been at Foreign Affairs Analysis in Vladarsik, punctuated by the requisite overseas exposure in a consulate in Relica, an unhappy stint as a Diplomatic Attache in Berlina, and another tour as Diplomatic Attache in The Golden Throne. A mother of 2, Marilyn Stegman was Randall Fields’ idea girl.

To the Secretary’s left was Andrew Falkowski, his number 2, also a lifer at Foreign Affairs. Andy worked his way up overseas, culminating service there as Ambassador to Mokastana, an important and prestigious post. His formal title was Undersecretary of the Department of Foreign Affairs. He was a practical man, a gray eminence at 55, and the man to see about power dynamics with the major players in Greater Dienstad. And he was well at ease with Eitoan’s new position as an emerging regional power.

Secretary Field opened the discussion.

“Marilyn, Andy, you know what President Shrdlu wants with this Potthan those giblet heads at ONIO has gotten us into. The thing isn’t worth the bones of one of our sailors, but we’ve got to project strength while pulling our chestnuts out the fire the spies created. Now, I want to focus on the diplomatic ideas. Marilyn, why don’t you go first?”

Stegman straightened up, and smiled. “I think our best path is a discreet offer to Jerico to buy out the Regime labor contracts. We can get cooperation from Eitoan heavy equipment builders and engineering companies. We’ve got the mining and material handling technology, and none of it causes a national security exposure. And it would be seen as conciliatory”.

Field nodded. “Continue”.

“But of course, any option, diplomatic or military must be backstopped by Golden Throne coordination. I don’t know how they landed akimbo between us and Jerico, but they’ve got an interest in getting their duck in a row on continent. And we could use this to gain concessions toward getting Federal Ralkovia some role in NMAA.”

The Nortwest Mutual Assistance Agreement was the Secretary’s baby. He furrowed his brow.

“Andy, we will have to contact Fedala about any moves in the Bay. What are your thought?”

Falkowsky’s soft, rich baritone piped up. “By all means, we must work closely with Fedala. This requires a high level contact, even at the summit level, even a letter from the President to Emperor Fedor.

And I think substituting Eitoan technology for ragged Ralkovian slave labor would be the best diplomatic opener.

But we should go back to a review of one military alternative. If we don’t want to have the burden of patrolling the Bay into the far future, it is more practical and easier to exercise, shall we say, options on the Principality of Agar. We’d get a land bridge to the Great Inland Sea, one that no navy can blockade. Potthan, Bajaaristan become irrelevant, and I think most Eitoans want that. Hell, our boys and girls spilled blood there in the war, we’ve got interests. The place is more than 40% ethnically Eitoan. And Prince Harold isn’t the most popular guy.”

Stegman objected. “What? Annex the entire Principality? There’d be riots within hours, if the Legislature didn’t impeach the President within minutes”.

Falkowsky soothed Stegman “Now, it doesn’t have to be outright annexation. At least right now. I believe Harold’s Royal Council can be brought to see the benefits of even closer cooperation with us. Transportation improvements, military supervision and assistance. Perhaps a customs union, elimination of tariffs. In that sense a version of a common market, something that could ease Federal Ralkovian integration with the free world. That would sidestep Golden Throne objections to Fed Ralk as NMAA observer, too.”

Field mulled to proposals. “Yes, let’s put together a note to The Golden Throne as first order of business. We’ll regroup again at 6:30, here. This must be at the highest level, from the President to Emperor Fedor. No, wait, that’s too needy. Break for now, see you at 6:30.”

---

Republic of Eitoan
Department of Foreign Affairs
Vladarsik, Eitoan

To: Jogornos Riken Topoken
Ambassador and Minister Plenipotentiary of the Empire of the Golden Throne
Vladarsik, Eitoan


It is the intent of the Republic of Eitoan to communicate through your office a message to His Imperial Majesty Fedor I this consultation regarding conditions in the Bay of Chains.

We are concerned about the recent action on the part of the Empire of Potthan in opening up trade in chattel slavery with the remnant Penada clique currently in control of western Ralkovia. It is our intention, indeed that of all members of the Northwest Mutual Assistance Agreement to bring an end to the rule of the outlaw Penada Regime and restore order on our continent. To that effect we continue to occupy and defend Free Ralkovia, and employ all peaceable means to reduce and contain Regime Ralkovia.

The actions by the Empire of Potthan run counter to these efforts. While we have had no quarrel with Potthan, and seek no quarrel, opening of the slave trade on the Big Dikk river is an exposure that is inimical to NMAA interests on the continent.

Non-military solutions to this disagreement are being explored in Vladarsik, and will be at the forefront of our efforts.

We believe that your position as friend to both the Republic of Eitoan and the Empire of Potthan should be of benefit to all in the region that seek a peaceful resolution of the disagreement.

Speaking for President Shrdlu we are requesting transmission of this message to Emperor Fedor, and look forward to your response.

With the greatest respect
Randal Field, Secretary of Foreign Affairs,
Republic of Eitoan

[The Macabees]

Vladarsik, Eitoan: Imperial Embassy of the Golden Throne
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Topoken read the message aloud, to both Meleyo and the kríerlord.

Meleyo was still in Vladarsik, living in the embassy, on orders of Lara Surr. As good as orders, anyway. The imperial councilman thought it best for the three major players in this unfolding western Greater Dienstadi knot to remain at his direct disposal and discretion. Together, he said, they would be likelier to untie the situation. Maybe true, but Meleyo had developed a distinct dislike over Topoken. The man was arrogant. No, not just arrogant, but condescending.

"What should we do, Your Excellency?" asked the jogornos to Eitoan, who had turned to look at Surr.

The kríerlord did not answer right away, and so Meleyo said, "We forward the message to His Imperial Majesty, obviously."

"I did not ask you," retorted Topoken, who glanced over angrily and then returned his gaze to Surr. The kríerlord looked at them both as he weighed upon the circumstances, and in anticipation, Topoken said, "You speak for His Imperial Majesty. Is that not right, Your Excellency? Your word is his and, besides, He would reward your initiative and leadership. I am sure."

Surr smiled. "Then you would be a fool, Riken."

"Am I wrong?" the other man rebuked.

"The emperor," said the kríerlord, "is a Just man. Those who prove their value are rewarded. You have to remember, what is valuable is relative to the person you're asking. And if I seek to be rewarded by being valuable, then what is it that the man I serve sees as valuable? I'm sure it's not keeping secrete the message from the leader of a critical imperial ally. And I would be just as fool as you as to not at least communicate my intentions to Him before acting. That doesn't mean, however, that we cannot recommend a solution to Him. And if the recommendation is a good one, He will most likely accept it. Are we aligned in our thoughts on the topic?"

Meleyo took a sip from his glass of amber-colored viska. He closed his eyes to enjoy it.

"This one is a different bottle," said the kríerlord. "It's from my own collection. Biviota 56. How do you like it?"

"It is excellent, Kríerlord Surr," replied the jogornos. "Not overly peaty, but the spice flows from the palate to the finish. It is truly excellent."

Surr laughed. "Good, because it's a Ŗ14,000 bottle."

"You spoil me." Meleyo brought the glass to his lips and brought back his head to drink the rest of it in one gulp. Standing, he walked to the cart on which the bottle, and others, stood, and poured himself another. "You must understand Your Excellency, for a man like me luxury such as this was a rarity until now. I must enjoy lasciviously, for when else may I get such an opportunity?"

"Gods man, show some class" said Topoken.

Rolling his eyes, Meleyo took the bottle over to his fellow diplomat and poured more into his glass, saying, "Live a little."

Surr ignored them both, and said, "We will be asking His Imperial Majesty to give us the lead in the negotiations with both the Eitoani and Potthani governments. I'm sure there is common ground. Potthan's interest is in supplying their mining industry with the manpower to maintain a spectacular level of output. The Eitoanis want to isolate Regime Ralkovia. If we sell them the vision, it may not be just their political game of checkers against the Ralkovians that's benefited by this deal. There are economic benefits, as well. If the Potthanis are give up their Ralkovian-held prisoners of war peacebly, they will want an alternative source. Or, an alternative way. Of course, there are tens of millions of criminals in the empire and imagine the fiscal relief of simply exporting large numbers of them to Potthan. Or, otherwise, we can offer them machines. More accurately, as it behooves to share the spoils with our allies, the Eitoanis can provide them with machines. Robots designed specifically for the Potthani mines, equipped to replace the non-managerial, laborious, and tedious roles that are so utterly dangerous for a man." Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Let's forward this message and our recommendations to the emperor. While I do that, Jiramen, why don't you pour me some of that Biviota before you drink it all?"



Fedala, The Golden Throne: Imperial Palace
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fedor read the message precedent from the Eitoani Department of Foreign Affairs himself as the others in the council chamber. Moments in the imperial capital were tense these days. Despite the armistice and consequence peace treaty with the Scandinvan Empire, the war had become a deeply unpopular one and would remain a scar on his legacy, all knew it. Many hoped that with peace would come a period of what many would term inwardness, a focus on the self. There were small wars in Holy Panooly, Indras, New Empire, and elsewhere. But, it was the wars in Krasnova and the Killian Republic in the Reich that produced the most anxiety, as it was becoming rapidly apparent that both conflicts would require a radical expansion of imperial manpower in both countries. It was not just the containment of Ordenite power at play anymore, but a war of supremacy over the geopolitics of central Greater Dienstad.

Although good news had come with victory at the Battle of Crowns Sea, marking the near total defeat of the Kriegsmarine, the overall situation was still dire. The garrison in Pezlevko-Rubino had been reinforced considerably and significantly more soldiers were pouring in every day, but the Reich and its Krasnovan vassals still vastly outnumbered imperial and Triumvirate ground forces. In the Republic, the Reich was on the offensive and there was no hint of its advance slowing down. While most believed the tide had turned, few were under any illusion that the road would not be long. Despite the strategic victory, there was nevertheless a pervasive sense of gloom in the chamber.

Still, when the emperor rose his head from reading the message, he spoke cheerily. "Eitoan is an ally of fundamental importance to the empire. It is because of them that Ralkovia lies in ruins and, likewise, that Ralkovia can no longer pose a threat to the security of our citizens and subjects throughout the region. Despite the great heights they have reached on their own, they show us a great respect and their soldiers bleed for us in Krasnova. The significance of our friendship to me must be shown and our interests in Potthan ought not to distract us from our obligation, our duty, to our friends. I know that the resources of our great empire are strained and that it seems that we have been fighting a war too many, but we must never be devoted to anything less than commitment to our allies. This issue between Eitoan and Potthan must be resolved and the resolution must meet the needs of the Eitoani government. I trust Kríerlord Surr, who is currently in Eitoan as we speak, to lead the initial process toward finding an adequate settlement. But, Eitoan is asking for intervention from the emperor of the Golden Throne, and I suspect that the emperor of Potthan would not settle for anything less than speaking to an equal when discussing matters of great national importance. I will be traveling to the far west when the time is right. In the mean time, I am appointing Kríerlord Fourier Vereda to an oversight position over our diplomatic mission in Potthan. He will join Lara Surr, Riken Topoken, and Meleyo Jiramen. Surr will maintain seniority among the two council members. Both Vereda and Surr are to return to Fedala to report to me personally on the status of the situation and our progress towards its resolution. Is this understood?"

The great marble chamber was silent for a little while, until the plump Garnér Bíank spoke. " Vereda, Your Imperial Majesty? With all due respect, is he not a tad young?"

Vereda, who was seated among the council, glowered at the older kríerlord. But, he held his tongue. All eyes turned to the emperor.

Ice blue eyes turned toward the man who had asked the question. "You are all of the same rank in my eyes, Kríerlord Bíank. I expect all my councilmen to meet the same standard. Vereda is who will represent me in Potthan. Now, I must adjourn this meeting. I thank you all for your time this morning. There are matters of the war against the Reich to which I must attend to. We will reconvene tomorrow at the same time. In the meantime, see to it that Kríerlord Surr draft a reply to the Eitoani government. It must be signed by me. Reaffirm our commitment to Eitoan. In fact, reveal the location of our submarines at the mouth of the River Dikk to them in the message, so that they know that we will support them even in war. Request a meeting between their government and our team, headed by Surr and Vereda. And make clear that I will be present in the official negotiations with Potthan. Get this done this morning."

He stood and all at once the council cheered, "Hail His Imperial Majesty Fedor I!"



To: President Ephriam Shrdlu
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your efforts against the Ralkovian Reich are to be commended by the utmost honors and the Golden Throne stands behind you in full commitment toward your purpose. Potthani human trafficking agreements with western Ralkovia is unacceptable. Yet, I fully believe that in the long-run Potthan can serve as an important strategic ally in our quest to contain and civilize Ralkovia. In their hands is the mouth to the single greatest artery the latter has to the rest of Greater Dienstad and their agreement to host an imperial naval base shows their ultimate intention of peace with the greater region. We can reach a peaceful solution that will meet the demands and strategic interests of all parties, and I will personally attend and arbitrate the negotiations between the Emperor of Potthan, Jericho III, and yourself.

We have arrived at a crossroads. One road will take us down a path of violence and resentment. The other leads to a lasting solution that will bring Potthan closer to a favorable axis with Eitoan and greater security to the far west of the region. I am excited to join you and know that despite the outcome, you can count on the Golden Throne to be behind you every step of the way.

For now, I ask that you work with my representatives, Kríerlords Lara Surr and Fourier Vereda, to get us up to speed on the situation.

To peace, security, and prosperity,

His Imperial Majesty Fedor I

[Eitoan]

Vladarsik
Executive Residence, Third Floor,
President’s Small Office


President Shrdlu welcomed Secretary Field and Marilyn Stegman in, beckoning from behind the Desk of Anjek. “Come on in. Make yourselves comfortable. Randy, Marilyn, please, your progress so far.”

Ephraim Shrdlu was more relaxed than he had been all year. The Dashez runoffs had just concluded, leaving his Free Democrats with a bigger majority in the lower house. Gains by the conservative Civic Platform in the runoffs balanced out the Socialist advance in the Ghastak nicely. His brow uncreased, the President could now operate freely, more or less. Still, there was public opinion, that of a nation thrust into the spotlight by the Ralkovian war, unaccustomed to the crown of regional power at this time.

Secretary Field and Stegman sat down close to the President, each opening a thin file. Field nodded to Stegman.

She sat up straight and looked the President squarely in the eye. “I’ve set the wheels in motion putting together a consortium of Eitoan mining and heavy equipment companies, and professional organizations to wee what we can offer the Potthanis in lieu of Ralkovian slaves. We’re mostly working through the Eitoan National Mining and Smelting Association and with the Mechanical Engineering Research Department of Caldwell Territorial Technology University. This is being black boxed through Loren Masters over at Industry and Trade. He’s put an Assistant Undersecretary on it. I’ve also given our embassy in Potthan a heads up”.

Shrdlu signalled approval.

“So far, not much headway on third party slaver counteroffers for Potthan. Castille is heavily involved in Bajaaristan, so that makes any approach tricky and unappealing for Emperor Jerico. The Ordenite Reich, well, you know.” She continued, shrugging. “Who really has a handle on what’s going on in Berlina. But, Mr. President, we understand that you have received a response from Emperor Fedor. That is the biggest piece to this puzzle. Could you indicate what direction Fedala sees this going for us?”

The President smiled broadly. “As a matter of fact, I want to review his response with you. Let’s read through it together”.

He handed Field and Stegman copies of Fedor’s reply.

Your efforts against the Ralkovian Reich are to be commended by the utmost honors and the Golden Throne stands behind you in full commitment toward your purpose. Potthani human trafficking agreements with western Ralkovia is unacceptable.”
Field cut in “This is a good start. We’ve got buy in for the basic principle”

”Yet, I fully believe that in the long-run Potthan can serve as an important strategic ally in our quest to contain and civilize Ralkovia.”

Field and Stegman stared at each other. Both shrugged. They’d never considered this.

” In their hands is the mouth to the single greatest artery the latter has to the rest of Greater Dienstad and their agreement to host an imperial naval base shows their ultimate intention of peace with the greater region.”

Shrdlu stopped reading for a minute. “That agreement should relieve us of a naval upgrade in the Bay. Fedala is the major domo across Greater Dienstad on the water”

“Thereby saving us billions of Quada in appropriations” Stegman added.

“And a dust up with Ghastak leftists” the President noted.

” We can reach a peaceful solution that will meet the demands and strategic interests of all parties, and I will personally attend and arbitrate the negotiations between the Emperor of Potthan, Jericho III, and yourself.”

“This is very good. This is what we want” said Field

”We have arrived at a crossroads. One road will take us down a path of violence and resentment. The other leads to a lasting solution that will bring Potthan closer to a favorable axis with Eitoan and greater security to the far west of the region.”

The President looked up. “We know which path we’ll take. I’m going to give Fedor the go ahead on working in concert with Potthan. But we’ll all have to make sure the axis comment never sees the light of day. The public will support national security. They’re uncomfortable with big power politics”

” I am excited to join you and know that despite the outcome, you can count on the Golden Throne to be behind you every step of the way.”

Stegman pointed out “That’s reassuring, even if it may just be boilerplate”.

”For now, I ask that you work with my representatives, Kríerlords Lara Surr and Fourier Vereda, to get us up to speed on the situation.

To peace, security, and prosperity,

His Imperial Majesty Fedor I”

President Shrdlu stood up and paced a bit, looked out the window at the blizzard outside, and sat down again. “Randy, Marilyn, work with me on this”.

The three poured over a response. An hour and a half later, this was the product.

To: His Imperial Majesty Fedor I

I am in receipt of you response to our message regarding relations in the Bay of Chains, and wish to extend to you the gratitude of the Eitoan people for your attention to his matter. The Department of Foreign Affairs will proceed along the lines you have indicated.

The Department of Foreign Affairs has authorized our representatives to meet with Kríerlords Lara Surr and Fourier Vereda for the purpose of going forward on proposals. Mrs. Marilyn Stegman, Senior Strategic Planning Analyst at Foreign Affairs and Special Assistant to the President will head the delegation. She will be joined by Andrew Falkowski, Undersecretary of the Department of Foreign Affairs. They will meet with the Krierlords at the time and location acceptable to your government.

In this discussion I would prefer to speak with you directly and in person. Resolution of differences in the Bay of Chains is of major importance and high priority to the Republic of Eitoan.

In sensitivity to national sentiment here, all communication must be kept classified. It is best to frame any solution as being of mutual benefit to continental security and trade, and avoid giving any appearance of expansion of naval power of the Republic of Eitoan.

The people of Eitoan and I thank you for your prompt attention to this issue.
Ephraim Shrdlu, President
Republic of Eitoan

After all came to agreement, Stegman and Field started to leave the room.

Shrdlu pulled Field aside.

“Randy, I know you’ve been working hard. Nobody’s been putting in more effort than you. But have you reconsidered?” the President asked.

“Mr. President, I’m tired. The war was a terrible strain. I’m holding up, I think, but nobody was ready to Foreign Affairs to move to the next level. But here we are. I’ve got to think about the future”.

“But, can you hold on?”

Field frowned. “Yeah, sure, I guess so. But there needs to be an evaluation. And Stegman and Falkowski are at the top of the list”.

Shrdlu questioned the choices. “Falkowski, sure. But Stegman? No ambassadorship?”

The Secretary shared his thoughts. “That can be fixed. This negotiation is a good test. And Falkowski will be holding her hand if necessary. If it works out for her, then we can find a spot. Holy Marsh would be an excellent challenge. They’re major in the south, and they do have a new head of state. A woman. And, look, both Falkowski and Stegman may very well get my job, in their turn”.

Shrdlu clapped Field on the back. “Okay. Let’s go with it. See how she does.”

[Potthan]

Imperial Palace, Agadesh

The Throne room was busy with city planners for the upcoming Empire Day events. Military parades, pubs filled to the brim, and elegant music is to be expected of that day. Many business owners also have been granted a chance to meet with the Emperor to talk about promotions concerning his likeness (Which is copyrighted).

A bit after lunch the Emperor seems steamed with the sheer amount of people he has to deal with. His wife, Empress Razida (Otherwise known as the Jewel of Potthan for her favorability among Potthani citizens and even many Barjaani citizens), springs from his chambers. "Gentlemen, let's give our emperor a break. If you need anything please come talk to me." she says, relieving Jericho of his duty. "Thanks for this Raz. I'm not like my father. Dealing with people make me sick." Jericho says as he arises from his throne to greet his wife.

"Guard!" Jericho yells. A spry young man nearly sprints to aid his emperor. "Yes my sire, how can I assist?" the young man pecks. "I need you to bring me one of the Frumentari. Tell him to meet me in my throne room this evening before dinner is served." Jericho beckons. The young man nods, about faces, then rushes off.

The Frumentari is one of the oldest organizations of Potthanl, which serves personally the Emperor and his needs.

Later that evening...

A masked figure was escorted into the throne room, wearing an elegant but unobtrusive Kevlar mask with gold pattering. The figure takes off the mask to reveal a heavily scarred face, decorated with decades old cuts and burns. In order to become a Frumentari one must have been in a situation to prove upmost loyalty to the Empire. During the Barjaani Insurgencies he was captured and tortured for two entire months before Potthani forces managed to take the compound. Not once did he utter a single word or as much as yell. His behavior was noted and he was given a path to join the Frumentari with the codename "Silent Brother". He firmly takes a bow and says with a low, raspy voice "You wanted to see A Frumentari?"

"There is something of utter importance to me. I need you to bring me the ambassador from Macabees. I wish to council with him immediately given recent events. Take one of our armored vans and have him come to the palace alone. And inform him of the palace's rules before he gets here." Jericho says sternly and ushers with his hand he'd like the Frumentari to leave.

Jericho only wished to have a few words with the ambassador: "I wish for His Majesty Fedor I to join me for Empire Day"

[The Macabees]

Fedala, The Golden Throne: Imperial Palace
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two letters arrived at the palace in quick succession regarding events in the far west. One came from Eitoan, the other from Potthan. The former was directly from the Eitoani president, the latter a communiqué from the embassy in Agadesh regarding an invitation Emperor Jericho III had extended via messenger. Fedor had not bothered to call the kuncil for their advice. The only kríerlords who mattered in these events were the two in Eitoan, Lara Surr and Fourier Vereda. They would be informed of Fedor's plans in advance but did not need to be consulted about them.

It irked Him, to some degree, that the Eitoanis could not meet with Surr, Vereda, and the two jogornos to come upon a solution before a major first-round of negotiations. His attention was, after all, seemingly eternally transfixed on the Fourth Reich these days. The wars in Krasnova and Hailandkill were still going more poorly than He had anticipated, and despite the great naval victory in the Sea of Crowns there was still much to be done in both theaters. In Krasnova, landings had just taken place north and south of the port city of Datosk. Another major offensive out of the remnants of the Pezlevko-Rubino satrapy was due to take place in the coming days. In the Killian Republic, things were going even worse, with the states of West Tenet and South Lomec almost entirely in enemy hands. Major combat operations between the Heer and the Ejermacht were expected to take place within the week, or faster. To the south, the Reich was fueling the Havenic raids into Levante, Belmonte, and Viñera. And despite the cessation of enemy air raids against imperial targets on the home continent, these could reoccur at any moment. Fedor was needed at home. But, Eitoan was one of the empire's most valuable allies, and so He committed himself to travel west.

First Fedor would go to Potthan to attend the Independence Day celebrations. With the new base in the country and the increasingly obvious need to maintain a direct line of communication with the Potthani imperial government, it was important for Fedor to attend the invitation. He sent word to the Potthani government and to the diplomatic team in Eitoan, instructing Vereda to meet him at the airport in Vladarsik. From there, they would fly together to Agadesh, where they'd be met by representatives of Jericho III.

Upon conclusion of the celebrations, Fedor would fly back to Vladarsik to meet with President Shrdlu.

A broad idea of the itinerary would be sent to Shrudlu's staff, including notice of Fedor's visit to Agadesh. Hopefully, the Eitoani president would not read into the decision to visit Potthan first. Regardless, any discussion between Fedor and Jericho would likely produce valuable knowledge on the motivations and needs of the Potthanis, making a settlement between the two countries over the Potthani slave trade with Regime Ralkovia all the more likely.

Before He could leave for Potthan, though, Fedor had two gifts fetched for. One for Jericho, the other for Shrdlu. The giving of a gift by part of the emperor of the Golden Throne had begun with the empire's first ruler, Fedor's grandfather, Jonak I. If the emperor came with a gift, it meant that He saw the discussion as one between friends. If He came without a gift, then it was a discussion between enemies.

Once these were brought back to him, He left for Eitoan to rendezvous with Vereda, and then on to Agadesh. Both flights, but especially the first one, would be very long. So, Fedor brought along three new books he had added to his reading pile. The first was The Great Collapse by Arn Helot, a history of the "dark ages" between the Bronze and Iron Ages. The second was The Bells That Would Not End by Helmut Johansen, a Frommian who was touted to have written the "new" history of the War of Golden Succession. Finally, the third was Strategikon, a military manual by an unnamed commander written sometime during the 3rd century. So long were the flights that He expected that even these three tomes would be insufficient for the whole time.

The morning of the flight west, Fedor was hugging his son Karl in the study of one of the palace's wings. Karl had been studying and Fedor had come to say goodbye. The boy seemed to take it all in a good way, although he had grown accustomed to the ephemeralness of his father's presence. Besides, their relationship had turned somewhat cold since His marriage to Cassandra. The boy was strongly allied to his mother, the empress. One day he would understand why He had done it, Fedor was sure.

"When will you be back?" asked the boy.

Smiling, Fedor answered, "Very soon, by next week at the latest, I suspect. The celebrations in Potthan will last a day, I will probably spend two there, and three to four days in Eitoan. Then, I will return. And with gifts, of course. For you, your sister, and your mother."

"And for Cassandra?" he scowled.

Gently, Fedor said, "For Cassandra, as well. She is not your mother, she is not empress, but she is my wife and a part of this household. You must learn to respect and love her. Do you understand?"

"Never," said Karl.

Fedor furrowed his eyebrows. He was far too young to hold grudges and anger like this. Where had this come from? Where was the young boy who beamed of eternal happiness? It was a puzzle that He would have resolve upon His return. Now, his mind was on the mission at hand: Potthan and Eitoan. He patted Karl on the head, and said only, "You will learn. You must. Goodbye son, I must go now."

With a kiss to the forehead, he stood, turned, and walked out of the study. Outside the doorway stood Sofie. The empress was radiant as ever, despite the sadness that had filled her since Fedor had come home with Cassandra. She had known of his other flings, his other women, she had even spoken to some of them, but she had never expected Him to bring another woman home. But, he was emperor of the Golden Throne, a position to had grown beyond the significance it held even under his predecessor, Jonak I. Indeed, Fedor wielded more power than Jonak could ever dream of. It was all going to his head, he worried. Taking him by the arm, she said where Karl couldn't hear, "He gets it from you, you know. The anger. He sees when you are angry and when you are stressed. It would be good for Karl to see you in another state. Take him with you to Potthan, have him returned to Fedala while you remain in Eitoan. Besides, it is time he more actively shadows his father while his father is actively ruling, after all Karl must learn the trade if it he is to succeed you. Take him, it will be good for him."

He nodded. "Very well." Ducking back into the study, he said, "Karl."

The boy turned his attention to the emperor. "Yes, father?"

"Come, son. It has occurred to me that it would do you well to attend Independence Day in Potthan."

"Really, father?" Karl excited, more excited than Fedor had seen him in some time. "You will take me with you?"

"Come, Karl," said Fedor, smiling. "A maid will fetch your things. We musn't waste any more time, we are being awaited for in Agadesh."

[Eitoan]

Department of Foreign Affairs, Vladarsik, Eitoan
Undersecretary’s Conference Room

Falkowski was already seated, first seat to the right of the top of the table. Relaxed in the late afternoon, he bade Stegman and the other delegation members to enter. They filed in. Stegman, in charcoal business suit and white blouse, a string of pearls led the way and planted herself at the power seat. She was head of delegation, and spent the last two days with her three assignees preparing for the strategy session. Arrayed across from Falkowski were the other three members, mainly there for advice and support. This was Marilyn Stegman’s ball game. Closest to her was Jayson Henyard, Manager of The Export Department under Secretary of Industry and Trade Loren Masters. The vigorous 50 year old veteran of Exports was certainly familiar with Foreign Affairs, but rarely consulted at such a high level. The last time he’d been this high in the Stratosphere was ironing out the details of the Relica - Eitoan General Trade and Economic Agreement, precursor to the Northwestern Mutual Assistance Agreement. That was a major accomplishment, but not as highly visible as his work on this matter. Next to him was Vadim Holmes, Foreign Affair’s Continental Section Chief. A short 55 year old with a bureaucrat’s paunch, most of his work since assignment as Chief was in staffing the sprawling organization that was until recently the most important at it’s level in Foreign Affairs. His tasks were not exactly clerical, but that is what took up most of his time. Still, he had the best understanding of the details on the ground from embassies and consulates across the big continent. Andy House, junior member at 39, took up the last chair. He was head of the Golden Throne desk at Foreign Affairs, the most critical desk in the department, and a key player in planning the strategy for the negotiations with Emperor Fedor.

After greetings all around, Stegman began.

“I want to thank all of you for making this meeting today. We’ve all been working hard on the arrangements, both a preliminary meeting with Kríerlords Lara Surr and Fourier Vereda and an agenda for the Emperor’s visit. I don’t have to tell you, the imperial visit will be of the highest importance, but chances of success will depend heavily of preparations that start with the Krierlord discussions. Here’s where we stand.

We have a rough idea of what we can offer the Potthani in terms of technology replacement of Ralkovian slave labor. Caldwell Territorial Tech has identified improvements we can provide from development labs in the area of spatial data visualization. I don’t understand much of the detail, but it looks like there are incremental improvements, both in hardware and software close to production ready. Early release to Potthani concerns can be arranged. The National Mining and Smelting Association has identified the biggest gaps between Potthani and Eitoan mining technology to be in the are of platinum group metals extraction. An offering here might involve more extensive financing, but at this time we don’t have a handle on the level of demand in Potthan. The Association tells me that the most fertile opportunity is likely to be integrated systems of ferrous ore smelting and refinement, where we can streamline the flow from underground removal to finished primary product and provide an upgrade of marketable items to Northern Vanguat industrial standards, thereby opening up new markets for them. These systems and the expertise to operate them are in a ready to go status.

I regret to tell you that National Intelligence is still as obtuse as ever about that screw up, the one that’s got all of us here today. They’ve indicated the operative is relatively secure, but have been otherwise evasive. I don’t think there’s much give with Intelligence, and we won’t be making any initial offerings in these negotiations.

Probes into alternative slave sources haven’t gone far. The Castillians are invested opposite the Emperor in Bajarristan. Any move to bring them in is a non-starter. Similarly deals with Ordenia are taboo. And nobody really knows who’s in charge in Berlina.”

Stegman paused. She waited a few moments before continuing.

“Of primary importance in setting the stage for the negotiations is understanding Emperor Fedor’s point of view.” Andy House sat up straight. “Andy, Mr. House, can you enlighten us about what he may be considering in his western tour?”

House spoke clearly and distinctly. “Fedor will be coming to Vladarsik first, to confer with his Krierlords. We must not overlook the importance of this face to face meeting in setting the agenda for the state visit, and all security must keep mention of the brief stopover out of the news. We are offering facilities at Joint Base Levoska, where we can keep a lid on prying eyes, an easy drive for the Krierlords. Logistical details and security arrangements have been forwarded to the Golden Throne embassy. We know by his decision to visit the west in shuttle diplomacy that the President’s message must have gotten his attention. Given the gravity of the situation in the Bay of Chains, the letter met it’s objective. From our sources in Fedala and on the ground in Krasnova and Hailandkill, we believe that he is very much invested in seeing those wars brought to a successful conclusion, and may have concerns about Golden Throne overextension in the Ordenite War. The west may not be his biggest concern at the time, but he’s got to keep his eye on devolpments on continent. To what degree Jerico’s deal with Regime Ralkovia is seen by him to be a slap in the face, I can’t say. There may be some issues there. The invitation to Agadesh is an opportunity for him to smooth over any of that before taking proposals to us. And given the mess Intelligence has dumped on us, he can bring us much better and clearer knowledge of any Potthani price to clear up the Bay of Chains and Bottle up the Regime.”

Stegman responded.

“Thank you Housey. I like that nickname, Housey”.

He giggled, slightly.

Stegman outline an initial bargaining position.

“At this time I want to give the Krierlords a very rough cut view of what we can offer in any deal. This should give them an opportunity to communicate to Fedor a rudimentary idea for discussion with Jerico. The mining technology offering should be foremost, and pretty open ended. If agreements can be made to replace the slaves we should be able to move in big time down there. And this would be a continuing opportunity for our companies. We will also indicate that we don’t want a massive buildup in the Bay, and are willing to have The Golden Throne be the arbiter of sea lane passage in that body of water. Really, all we need is clearance in the eastern part, between the Great Inland Sea and the Jesheoda Channel.

But it should be known that we would draw the line on Regime flag vessels in the Bay itself, beyond Potthani territorial waters. We also need an understanding that while we have no design on the Big Dikk, we reserve the right for military operations on land and air necessary to safeguard routes to Federal Ralkovia. I hope this would be obvious to Emperor Fedor. It should be obvious to Jerico.”

Falkowski added his two Quada.

“We need to keep our eye on the long term. Fedor can do a lot for us, stifling the mess in the Bay. The main thing he can do in the long run is control the western seas. Today he stands on the top of the hill throughout Greater Dienstad, the Ordenite navy is basically smashed. I do have a concern about those long running wars draining resources, but in the end I would like to see the Kriermada well established here, on down to Shartoum, because in the long run getting naval appropriations from the left will be like pulling teeth. This is going to mean supporting Golden Throne influence throughout the west. He’s shy about a reemergent Ralkovia. Hell, who isn’t? That’s why we keep the knife at the throat of the Regime. But more consideration of Federal Ralkovia in democratization efforts would be helpful. There are a lot of chips he can play, both in the Bay states and up north. Fedala is viewed everywhere as the golden city, let him build on that reputation. I think the only pitfall of greater involvement for him on continent would be here, with the Socialists and Communists harping on foreign imperial influence. But we should assure him that we have that well in hand.”

Discussion continued on the details of an agenda for a meeting with the Krierlords. Stegman wanted a straightforward approach, emphasizing the benefits of Eitoan – Potthani commercial arrangements. This reflected her behind the scenes experience in Foreign Affairs. Marilyn Stegman came to the forefront in the early days of the Ralkovian War, working tirelessly with Secretary Field and the President to stabilize Aurensia and prevent them from surrender after the attacks on Manchester. She honed those skills as Eitoan advanced through the neighboring statelets, negotiating with friendly militias in Agar-na to prevent discord and save the Prince’s neck as the army swept the Ralkovians from the Principality and republicans and ethnic Eitoans sought revenge on the traitor Prime Minister. But mostly she had masterminded the details that maintain Eitoan Occupation Forces Ralkovia through compacts with the other members of The Alliance and mid-continent potentates.

Falkowski had, typically, a bolder, broad brush approach. He too was forged in the fires of the war, working out the entry of Eitoan to The Alliance and hammering out postwar plans for Ralkovia. Andy Falkowski was comfortable with Big Power politics. His name was noticed by Krierlords ever since the outbreak of hostilities up north. He was ready to step onto the world stage.

So, the discussion finally centered on what would be offered to Jerico ultimately. The group settled on these points:

Mining technology that can replace the demand for slave labor:
• Access to Eiotan development labs for bringing the latest development in mining spatial data visualization. This would include a certain number of admissions to mining schools in Eitoan, and internships at software and equipment companies for Potthani students.
• Financing of equipment purchases through Eitoan commercial banks.
• A review of Potthani iron mining and conveyance practices to determine a needs list for Eitoan suppliers. product and provide an upgrade of marketable items to Northern Vanguat industrial standards, thereby opening up new markets for them. These systems and the expertise to operate them are in a ready to go status.

Reduction of trade regulations and tariffs on Potthani products:
• All tariffs on tangible products to be reduced to below 5% within 5 years, for:
• Precious Metals
• Crude Petroleum and Natural Gas
• Dairy Products
• Lumber and Wood Products
• Industrial Inorganic Chemicals
• Rolled Steel
• General Industrial Machines and Equipment
• Consumer Appliances
• Oats and Rice

• For intellectual property and services:
• Removal of fees and total reciprocity within 5 years on Patents
• Trademarks - immediate removal of fees and total reciprocity between the states.
• Financial Software - Reduction of fees to below 3% within 1 year.
• Genetic Engineering - immediate removal of fees and total reciprocity between the states.
• Financial Services. Removal of all tariffs and implementation of bank interoperability for:
• Banking - within 2 years.
• Insurance - within 3 years.
• Standardization of Product Regulation between the two states, to be implemented within 24 months, for the categories in the following:
• Food and Pharmacuticals
• Pharmacutical Quality Testing
• Food Safety
• Transportation of Food Products.
• Consumer Electircal Equipment and Appliances
• Industrial Electrical Appliances.
• Industrial, Mining, Agricultural, and Construction Equipment
• Transportation and Aerospace Vehicles
• Communications Equipment.

With the plans drawn, Stegman drafted a note to the Krierlords:

To:
Kríerlords Lara Surr and Fourier Vereda
Embassy of the Golden Throne
Vladarsik, Eitoan

Subject:
Preliminary Discussions Prior to Conference between President Ephraim Shrdlu and His Imperial Majesty Fedor in Vladarsik.

Secretary Field has tasked me as head of delegation with preparatory meetings for the upcoming conference. At this time I invite you and your ambassadors present in Vladarsik to come to Foreign Affairs to set the table for the conference, at your earliest availability.

As you are aware, Eitoan’s main interest on the continent is the continued isolation of Regime Ralkovia. We want the government in Agadash to understand this mainstay of our policy clearly. It is our intention to pursue this goal by peaceful means, and in this respect you can play a key role.

We recognize Potthani needs for their mining industry, and are willing to offer alternative technology to manual extraction by slave labor. This will provide Potthan with cost reduction through increased efficiency. It will also open up new markets for Potthani products. Industry and academic resources in Eitoan can be made available to Potthani mining, and some financing can be arranged.

President Shrdlu and Secretary Field looks forward to His Imperial Majesty’s official visit to Vladarsik on his return from Agadesh. We have already identified to your embassy the most likely sit for arrival in the capital, and the Department’s Chief of Protocol will work closely with Golden Throne counterparts on this.

Your prompt attention is appreciated.


Marilyn Stegman,
Head of Delegation
Department of Foreign Affairs
Republic of Eitoan

---

Department of Foreign Affairs, Vladarsik, Eitoan
Secure Annex B, Second Floor Large Conference Room
x Days Later

Preceded and followed by security vehicles, the Golden Throne diplomatic limousine wound it’s way down North 18th Street, two miles from the embassy to the Foreign Affairs complex. A gray mist had enveloped Vladarsik, the dreary “Winter Fog”, rolling in from the coast and up the Ruzek valley, glazing windshields across the city, contributing mightily to the dark season’s doldrums. The motorcade was validated at the main gate, and again before the low rise steel and glass box that was Foreign Affairs Main. This building was not their destination. The limo, now accompanied by Eitoan diplomatic security was ushered down a road lined with red oaks, ending at the fortress like Secure Annex B. Vladarsik Police SWAT was on the grounds, everywhere. But out of sight.

Greeting Surr and Verada at the vestibule, Falkowski exchanged pleasantries with them, then ushered them up to the Second Floor. There Stegman, Henyard, Holmes and House were waiting.

Stegman came out to greet them.

“Krierlord Surr, Krierlord Verada. Thank you for meeting with us this morning.”

Marilyn Stegman extended a hand, and shook each of the Krierlord’s hands vigorously and curtly. It was Eitoan etiquette.

“May I offer you anything before we get down to business?”