A Battle Unseen

[hyraemous]

Sometime in April 5625...
Though the weird situation vis a vis the capture of 58 people caught up valuable intel regarding what they were planning to do, the question was what to do with these agents. They shouldn't be released into the general population; after all, they would probably return to their homeland up north. Or worse. But killing them, while it would boost morale, would probably shake up the election a bit.

They kept Bronislav Sladek in jail during the civil war, but eventually, he got rescued. What's to say the Legion wouldn't do something similar?

Eventually, the President himself, Tiberius Claudius Nero, decided their fate. But it wouldn't happen for a while. He, his staff, and the Etxean Garrison Command had their own ideas.

Twenty people were picked up from various military sites across the island and taken into a room together in the southern part of the island. These troops were already part of the special forces and were trained in infiltration and various tactics to set up networks around the enemy and communications. 

Over the next seven months, isolated from their families, who were told that they were headed to Valruzia for electoral monitoring purposes, the 20 people would also be trained and retrained on various fitness needs and physical tasks like climbing walls and crouching for long periods of time. They were also taught various methods of movement without making much noise.

When the President saw the 20 people, he was satisfied. Though they wouldn't be the best spies in history, they sure will be the pride of the Kundrati Union.

And thus it was. On 3 December 5625, the 20 troops were taken to a spot in western Etxea. Beyond the ESK housing construction site was an area—a makeshift monument to all who had died in the liberation of Etxea. They would pray and pay their respects. They were then taken to a rented site nearby to rest and prepare.

The next day, they were driven to a spot somewhere in the middle of northern Etxea. There, various boats were laid out. A final goodbye was said before the 20 troops got onto their boats and began to move off. 

Another series of boats was launching nearby, a couple of miles east. They carried communications equipment, some weapons, and various pills in case the agents were compromised.

A few days later...

As the boats reached the mainland shores, the crews of both boat sets readied to meet up. Waiting were a few vans, which had been arranged somehow. When the 20 troops got off their boats, they entered the vans and drove off to a pickup spot for the equipment. A few minutes in, they got the equipment and got in. Each soldier got a weapon, a pill, some falsified identification, and a Bible.

Normally, such a thing would've gotten them arrested on the mainland—possibly worse. Yet after months of painstaking intelligence work, the Union found that there were a few spots where not even the Legion could've set up monitoring equipment. One of those spots was where the crews landed.

The destination was a village in Jildrath. It took an hour to get there. 

The vans made it to a few longhouses. They had taken a side road to get there. Their handlers identified the spot where they would set up shop. The communications equipment began to be installed, which would take a day at most. The longhouses were a bit old—they were former warehouses. They needed some sprucing up, but they were good for lodging.

A few days pass. The agents get used to their environment and work on their hunting skills. It would be a while before they learned those skills with their eyes closed, so to speak, but at least they had some rations and some meat from a few animals they managed to kill off. In the meantime, some of the agents had made some forged documents that looked like official announcements and publications, which would be a handful for the upcoming project.

But the real work had to begin. And begin it did.

Around the area, 15 of those 20 roamed nearby villages while five remained to keep stock of supplies and to post guard. 

Those 15 agents soon approached these nearby villages and began their work. They put up these official-looking papers in mailboxes and left them at home. Some even entered local businesses and looked at what was for sale, roaming around the nearby shops and apartment buildings to see what to expect and how friendly the locals were. One had begun to talk to a shop owner, first about the nearby forest, but then about some concerns about the government. They spoke in hushed tones, and by the end of the day, that shop owner and the agent met at an empty apartment. 

A day later, the shopowner began working by talking to his friends and family. According to the shopowner, there were some concerns about the government in Jildrath, and perhaps now was the time to take action.

Some of his family and friends joined the shop owner at a pre-arranged location days afterward with some of the agents. They weren't far from the longhouses but wouldn't be spotted. The agents encouraged the group to talk to their friends and ask them to think about the current government and whether it was worth it to continue supporting them. They were also asked to tell the agents everything they knew about the Legion and the general area, which they were hesitant about. Still, the agents encouraged them, saying that they were all friends now and wouldn't talk to the Legion without sacrificing everyone, including themselves.

During that meeting, another agent opened the cash register to the shop owner's store. She took out a few Legionary Kuno and put them in her pocket. She closed the register and walked out via another entrance. Then, a man saw her and asked her what she was doing here. The man spoke in a distinct Jildrati accent, though recognizable from the Lurrian tongue. She said she worked for a nearby store and was leaving for lunch. The man let her go.

Within a few days, a small network was made.

Work continued afterward.

[Dredd]

[April 5626 Presidents Office]

Lazar was pacing the room furiously, the previous administration would never have permitted such incompetency. Two failed operations in Extea in a row, with most being arrested and assets seized, Lazar sulked for a moment beside his desk before suddenly smacking the pencil holder across the room, launching into a violent tirade. "Fucking baffoons! I swear i'll execute them and their pathetic families for siring such stock, i'll wear that son of a bitch tiberius' ear for a necklace!"

Worst of all, Extea was continuing to garner major public support, with foreign powers wantonly sending in delegates and flying abroad to international summits. Extea was receiving more aid that the legion ever had given their tumultuous international relations. Lazar slumped into his leather swivel chair and his eyes gazed to the corner of his newspaper, where a small snippet caught his attention.

"Egalion delegation to arrive in Extea"

Lazar sat for a moment then smiled, Fine. If the agents couldn't be bothered to succeed, there was the time tested option that Kundrati had done many times, and he knew this one would actually function. Lazar picked up the phone, "Get me interballistic command." A short wait and Lazar spoke to the general in charge of ballistic defense operations, "I want one of our largest missiles prepped for launch on Extea, coordinates to be delivered soon, load it with incendiaries and await my command for launch within the week." Lazar hung up the phone and leaned back satisfied and he took a drag from his cigar, even if they missed the would be upstart president they'd burn up some tents and put those dregs back on the streets where they belonged. All the traitors in Extea would suffer, someday it would be returned, world be damned and the consequences, even if it costs a million lives Lazar would honor Sladeks memory and make Kundrati whole, but today he would sip cognac imagining the smell of Sulphur in the south.

[XanderOne]

Revenge is a dish best served cold


Villa degli Aranci, Pontelasa, Istalia.
Saturday 12 December 5625, 21.43.

The evening air was pleasantly cool under the portico of the Villa degli Aranci. The white columns stood out against a sky still streaked with orange and purple to the west, while the sea breeze brought with it the salty scent and sweet aroma of orange blossoms. Alessandro, standing by the balustrade, turned the glass between his fingers, making the cold limoncello clink against the glass. His father, the Emperor, sat in his favorite wicker chair, his knees covered by a light blanket, his face hollowed out by tiredness, but lit up by a rare satisfied smile. On the table next to the chair two empty coffee cups.

The Regent, before joining his father on Alaria, had, as his final official act before the summer holidays, signed the Legislative Decree, approved fifteen days before by the Congress, formalizing the cooperation agreement with South Dovani for the transfer of 5,000 Solentians.

The Emperor moved his head slowly, almost savoring the moment. “And so, one after the other, they line up to recognize us.” A satisfied grin touched his lips as he shook the glass, observing the yellow milky liquor. “I wonder how they’re eating their heart out in Kafuristan.”

Alessandro let out a low laugh, smoothing his beard with a slow, thoughtful gesture. “Imagine in Deltaria!
That snake of a Thaller probably broke a glass in anger… unless he had some poor devil shot!”

Mattia burst into a hoarse laugh, almost a cough. “The Thallers… what a walking disgrace. They are parasites, and in addition to crawling in this or that state to bite him in the neck when it's weakest, they are also one crazier than the last...”

Alessandro smiled, but in his eyes shone the coldness of political calculation. “Inevitably, however, they ended up kicked out wherever they went, the problem with that dynasty is that they are like weeds, you can never completely eradicate them”

Mattia nodded slowly, bringing the glass to his lips. “But... maybe that's the only thing we have in common: we know how to adapt and survive as the time passes... but that's it! Today we toast with an iced limoncello at home, in a land that we can truly call ours and of which we are a part, a land where we can enjoy the concrete and substantial support of a people, something like this the Thallers can only dream of, without truncheons and smoke bombs they wouldn't even be able to manage a condominium"

They toasted, laughing again. But then the silence stretched between them, and with it the weight of more concrete problems.
Alessandro was the first to speak, his voice the lowest “And what about the Majatrans? The refugees will leave, but...”

The Emperor sighed, placing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Yes, the refugees will soon be repatriated or resettled, this chapter will be closed, but here the fracture remains”

Alessandro nodded, his eyes fixed on the long shadows that were lengthening in the garden. “The Majatrans... in the end, 90% of them you don’t even realize they are Majatrans, but there are many who think that in the end they will never be one of us” he sighed, swatting away with one hand a mosquito that was buzzing near his ear before speaking again “fortunately unlike somebody” the reference was clear “we are not a factory of psychopaths”

Mattia looked at him for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “No, we’re not, but… we both know which way is the right one. It’s not integration, or even peaceful coexistence. Let's call that way by the politicians and in awareness campaigns. It’s assimilation, which is what has inevitably been happening for a long, long time”

Alessandro ran a hand over his beard, thinking. “Assimilate and integrate… semantics aside, the line between the two is blurry. It’s not a question of rights or coexistence, it’s a question of identity. And identity isn’t a dress that you change at will, it’s something that’s shaped, generation after generation”

Mattia took a deep breath, letting the breeze fill his lungs. “Yes, it took generations in the past and it will take more, but assimilating them, pushing them to be like us, has saved us from ethnic conflicts, as has knowing how to welcome and adapt, perhaps changing superficially, but remaining the same deep down. But when sectarianism increased, when their identity was different and alien and when the Istalians did not know how to adapt, in those moments Istalia suffered”

Alexander nodded, the Emperor remained silent for a moment before taking another sip “It’s a fine line, it’s all about nuances, but the truth is that it worked… and it will work again, history teaches us: Istalia has known moments of difficulty, it has seen people come and go, but those who remained, in the end, became Istalians and their children even more so. With time, it will no longer be a problem”

The Emperor finished his glass in one gulp, then put it down with a decisive gesture. “With time, the most radical and traditionalists will disappear, their children will grow up as good Istalians, indistinguishable from the others, and it will happen again, generation after generation, with all due respect to Deltaria, Kafuristan and those who still believe that bullshit”

Alessandro smiled slightly. “Let’s just hope that, once and for all, we can definitively put the tombstone on Quanzar’s grave”

The wind blew harder, moving the light curtains of the porch. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the breeze carry away the last words. Alessandro twirled again the glass between his fingers, his eyes lost in the darkness that had began to envelope the gardens.

It was Mattia who again broke the silence, his voice lower, heavier “But that tombstone won't settle on its own” He turned slightly toward his son, his gaze steady. “It shall be us, and the country, with our efforts, who will plant it once and for all. And to do that, we must be ready, ready to face the enemies, ready to fight if necessary! A people-an Army, this we shall be!”

Alessandro nodded slowly, stroking his beard with a thoughtful gesture “I know, and I also know that those enemies will not stand still and wait”

The Emperor let out a heavy breath, almost a snort “Indeed! And I don't just mean those who attack us from outside. Quanzar isn't just an idea, it's a poison and as long as there are men willing to believe in that madness, we will never be safe”

The Crown Prince remained silent, listening. The Emperor leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair.

“Starting with the traitorous dogs of that… "government in exile"” The last words came out with disgust, as if he were burdened by the mere mention of them “And than the Ahmadi State! Those rats have had time to plot and poison the name of Istalia long enough”

Alessandro looked down at his glass, it was alomost empy, his thumb running slowly along the rim, then he looked back at the Emperor “Our resolve must be unyielding and let nothing stand in our way Father!”

The Emperor didn't answer immediately but he stared out to sea for a moment, his face impassive, then he spoke with a coldness that left no room for interpretation “Yes! The secret services will have to do their duty. From now until the completion of the work, the repatriation for the trial... or better yet the elimination of the traitors as well as beheading the Ahmadi State of his filthy leadership shall be a priority! It doesn’t matter how long it takes, it will happen, when they least expect it. Let them believe the danger has passed, let them believe that we have forgotten their betrayal, let them grow complacent… surely, I will no longer be here to raise a glass to victory… but in the end, it will happen!

Alessandro took a deep breath, then he emptied the glass. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but full of determination.

“Then so it shall be”

The wind blew harder, moving the light curtains of the porch. Neither of them spoke again, enjoying the breeze and the silence of the evening. Then the Crown Prince took the bottle and refilled the glasses.

“To Istalia!”

The Emperor raised his glass with a final, weary smile. “To Istalia!”

[hyraemous]

Somewhere in Jildrath...
October 5627

Over the next few months, after the soldiers had slipped through Legionairy patrols and territory, they built up a medium-sized network of informers and saboteurs willing to work to cause damage to the Legion. Things were going so well that some reinforcements had been moving in, and more saboteurs were signing up and receiving training on how to misinform, how to cause damage, and more.

There was a lot of fear that the Legion would catch them one day, at least in the saboteur camps, so calls to act on their information were growing. Then the command came from the highest of highs (in Etxea): attack.

Gathering information had taken a long time, and in that time, they had gathered information about the location of local police stations and Legionary offices. They also obtained information about their interiors, hiding spots, and employee numbers. Surveillance of these locations had also been going on for some time to outline when people left and when the fewest and most people were in these buildings. 

These reports were streaming back to Jildrati City. Thus, on 12 October 5627, President Tiberius Claudius Nero ordered that explosives pass through. The order was classified, but the intention was clear.

The missile strike in Etxea had changed things. While it would be evident that the Kundrati Union and the Kundrati Legionary State would never reconcile, at least for the time being, there was a general lull in fighting and a sort of peace over the last decade. Children today only knew peace, although that peace was on a knife's edge. Now that missile strike hit the island - and during a delegation visit too - everything changed. The youth now wanted blood. The people now wanted it, too. The Etxean cause was growing internationally, too, given Egelion's influence. There were also rumors that Kalistan and Etxea would see a rapprochement.

So it was ordered. Strike back.

Over the next week, saboteur teams roamed around parts of Jildrath. They arrived at night and broke into the police stations and Legionary offices. They placed the explosives in specific areas that would hopefully bring those buildings down. This was done during the night; after all, it was identified that not many people would be at these places at night, and the explosives were set to explode on the evening of 20 October.

The day came. 20 October.

The base camp in Jildrath had set up communication links with the saboteurs and troops. When the hour came, the command to explode would be given, and the command staff would see for themselves buildings exploding and chaos roaming. Some soldiers were left behind to monitor the areas and ensure the explosives went off as scheduled. 

The hour came. The command was given.

...

...

...

Nothing.

Calls were made to the saboteur teams.

Nothing.

Calls were made to the soldiers.

Nothing.

They looked at the communication feeds. Many went dark, and many others were too fast. It was obvious they were running.

A few hours later, a few soldiers arrived at an undisclosed location. Some were the saboteurs as well. A command staff member met them, and it was revealed that police and the Legionnaires had spotted them. They had to run. Many others were reportedly arrested. But what was clear was that no explosives had gone off. It was a typical evening in this cursed land for all intents and purposes.

And so it was foiled. But the camp seemed safe. Nobody there was arrested, and the team made it back. Nothing had changed, excluding the evident sadness that came from being unable to cause some chaos in the Legion.

A good chunk of the saboteurs and some of the soldiers listed were arrested that night. They would be taken away and controlled by the Legion, and they would control their fate.

And thus, preparations continued.

[Dredd]

[January 5628, Commissariat Interrogation Cell#208-C]

Jaroslav peered in through the one way glass wall as he continued watching the torture of the captured terrorist take place. He was tough, and refused to speak for hours, but every man has a breaking point. For this would be bomber his, after he had all his finger nails ripped out with knives shoved under them, was when the jumper cables were about to be hooked to his family jewels. A few of the soldiers captured had either suck started a 9mm, or taken cyanide, but thankfully this one was captured before he could take his own life.

"P-Please no, I'll talk! Fucking C-Cunts!"

The masked interrogators inside held back his head and began waterboarding him, "Speak you fucking satantic rebel scum! Who put you up to this, was it Luthori, fucking Kalistan, speak!" They removed the towel and met his frantic gasps with a series of punches to the mouth and nose.

"N-no, I swear! It was just the government, I don't know who I, J-Just get the messages from the h-higher ups, I swear I don't know who! Please enough, just kill me already you fascist fucks!", The interrogators continued screaming at him demanding answers, names, leaders, other cells that may or may not exist, but in reality the most sadistic members of the Commissariat often enjoyed the torture, and to be given a REAL enemy of the state and not some bumpkin accused of espionage was a real treat for them.

Jaroslav turned to his other officers, "I think we've heard enough, have the audio saved and sent to Comrade Lazar. As for the rat in his cage, let the boys do whatever they want and have his body dumped" The men saluted and Jaroslav left cassette tape in hand, and saw the smiles on the interrogators as they were given the order to liquidate, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the glint of scapels pulled from their belts, and the echos in the halls of the bloodcurdling screams as he strode stone faced out of the dim basement.

-----------------------------

Lazar listened to the audio with a smirk on his face, that quickly turned to worry. So it was confirmed, Extean rats were crawling their way into Jildrath, hardly a surprise given their constant failures to infiltrate the island, but they'd come far, far closer to success than the Legions contacts even had. Lazar clenched his fists and starting imaging who to execute for incompetence next, and began formulating the next goals in how to strike at the belly of the tumor that was former Legion land by right.

[hyraemous]

Somewhere in Etxea...
January 5628

Two million people. Two million stories. Two million... 

For a small island, two million sounds like a lot. Two million managing to fit in a island that can fit a ton of stuff from a lage city to new housing towers popping up throughout the island... maybe throw in a few spies too.

Boats had been spotted approaching the island for a little while now. These boats were a bit small, some were even jet skis, but they were all arriving on a few spots of the island. Nothing too unusual... except for the fact those boats were coming from the north. For a while now inter-Kundrati travel had been forbidden and discouraged given the hostility between the two states on both sides of the Jildrath Strait. Yet here were these boats, coming along, and some of them were landing.

So when these boats came in early January there were a few police officers to greet them in each location. Yet because there was the possibility that they were refugees, they weren't taken to a prison or anything like that. They were taken to a refugee camp surrounded by many people of many nationalities. They were told not to leave the camp because of their identity, given that there was a little suspicion of their origin and purpose here, but if they were refugees then their journey south could be a historic feat in the history of a divided Kundrati.

Each refugee was given shelter and food. They would be monitored, of course, but for now they were almost as free as an average Etxean.

A few days later, however, some of these refugees had gone missing. Over the few days between their arrival and their escape being noticed, a couple "refugees" were not being spotted in daily searches and daily feedings. These refugees had been told not to leave the camp, which made things very suspicious...

...and the guards knew nothing. 

The amount that managed to escape was a large amount. The refugees spoke Delic and had a thick northerner accent. They'd be noticed, but for now some had gone. The rest, when the escapes were found out, were arrested on suspicion of espionage. Many of them protested their arrest but were quickly silenced with numerous beatings in numerous areas. When the arrests happened, the higher ups ordered that they'd be split apart and spread throughout the island. Authorization to torture these prisoners was given soon after. 

Yet the boats kept coming. And some of them had slipped through. There was a fear amongst the military that the island was about to be infiltrated, hence an order came out to heavily increase patrols of the north of the island.

Yet the boats kept coming.

A search was also initiated to find the escaped refugees, now fugitives, however the next few days did not bring many results. Nobody was captured. 

And that is how the Legion managed to begin an infiltration into the Union.

[Dredd]

[April 5628, Presidential Office]

Lazar leaned back and stretched, he had accomplished a decent amount so far in his tenure as Head of state. Trade volume had expanded much since the original, well, zero dedicated partners Kundrati had, small trade with many a random nation was one thing, but what Kundrati needed was long term expansive trade and investment. So far that had been accomplished with two nations, Rutania & Davostag. Davostag had brought much needed fiscal investments into Kundrati and were at this moment building dozens of mining locations with penal labor all over the nation. It'd created tens of thousands of new jobs and billions in construction investment, money that was sorely needed. The GDP after the war had dropped by over 35%, and now it had recuperated 20% of that, Kundrati only needed a few more trade deals to be back to pre-war levels. The money that WAS here however presented opportunities that did not previously exist.

Firstly Lazar ordered the resuming of the ICBM project and new Thermo-nuclear testing, they had proven they could split the atom, and now was the time for hydrogen. Secondly he would follow in the footsteps of eternal comrade Sladek and begin a new 5 year plan to revamp the infrastructure and most importantly relocate and clone the existing Jildrath naval yards to the northern coast, a far safer location strategically, and with that he could begin rebuilding the navy.

One that irked him a bit, was cutting down the size of the standing army. Previously Kundrati had a mostly conscript large standing army of over 800,000 men, he decided to cut that to 500,000. It was proven in Etxea that numbers are not the only thing that win wars, to have a large army with quality was key, and they had an experienced Officer corp and generals some of whom fought in 3 conflicts, granting Kundrati a great foundation for a new school of thought in the armed forces.

Thanks to his steadfast iron grip on the nation, the labor camps continued to burst with men and women toiling their lives for the state, around 2 million in all. Thankfully many of them (at least the worst offenders) would perish, and those who returned home kept their mouths shut in public, Lazar was careful to send only the worst scum of the nation like atheists and liberals to the true death camps at Lirnak, where all who entered never left. This large manpower pool would be vital in the massive construction efforts soon to come.

Lazar lit a cigarette and gazed out the same window comrade Sladek had, "I'll do you justice comrade, Kundrati, the legion, all will prevail. When we meet again in heaven I will not come empty handed."

[vesica]

Hutorian Security Intelligence Service: Operation Faam

"The Campus", somewhere near Glentingham, Adelia

The conference room was dimly lit, the glow of a dozen screens casting long shadows across the faces of the Hutorian Security Intelligence Service (HSIS) officers gathered around the central table. At the head of the room stood Director Evelyn Marchand, her piercing gaze sweeping across her team as she tapped a dossier against her palm. "This is it," she said, her voice low but firm. "Operation Faam is a go."

For years, the authoritarian regime in the Kundrati mainland had ruled with an iron grip, crushing opposition, suppressing dissent, and keeping an ironclad hold on power. Now, with Hutori shifting its allegiance to Etxea, the gloves were coming off. HSIS had its orders: infiltrate, destabilize, dismantle. Faam, named after a mythic Hutorian intelligence operative that had famously torn Kundrati apart from the inside out. It was with no small amusement that Director Marchand has chosen the name to go back and and "finish" the job.

A man leaned forward in his chair, the faintest smirk on his lips. James Calloway, a seasoned HSIS field officer, had spent years operating in the shadows, moving unseen through enemy territory. He would be the one walking into the lion’s den. He was a veteran member of the Alternative Options Branch, the black ops of Hutorian intelligence that excelled in working behind the scenes. "The legend is solid?" he asked, flipping through the documents in front of him. 

The identity he would assume, the life he would live, the lies he would weave—all were meticulously crafted by the best minds in HSIS. "Completely airtight," replied Elena Brault, the agency’s top forger. "You are now Matthias Leclair, a wealthy but low-profile international financier with ties to black-market arms dealers. Your job is to get inside, make contact with the right people, and start pulling the regime apart from within."

Calloway nodded. That was indeed the only job that matter. Marchand stepped forward, placing a photograph on the table. A now infamous image of Comrade Lazar, the supreme leader of the Kundrati mainland. "Your ultimate target," she said, tapping the photo. "He is the thing that keeps the entire rotten structure together. We can’t yet strike the head of the snake yet, but if we can cut off its supply lines, we can start to starve the beast."

Calloway nodded, committing every detail to memory. This wasn’t his first deep cover op, but it was undoubtedly the most dangerous. The Kundrati secret police were ruthless, their counterintelligence operations brutal. If he was caught, there would be no extraction, no way home. "How are we inserting?" he asked.

Brault slid another document across the table. A fake visa, stamped with the seal of an independent trade delegation. "You’re being placed with a neutral international investment group under the guise of a new arms brokerage deal. Lazar is always looking for ways to funnel more money into the regime’s war machine. We’re giving him bait—you."

Marchand locked eyes with the Director. She said merely. "Your job is to earn his trust, find his weak points, and turn them against him. This isn’t about taking down one man. It’s about setting off a chain reaction. We don’t need an explosion—we need rot, creeping through the foundation, unseen until it’s too late."

A silence settled over the room. Every operative in that space knew what this meant. Once Calloway stepped onto Kundrati soil, he was alone. No backup, no lifelines, no second chances.
Calloway exhaled, closing the dossier. "I’ll make it happen."

[vesica]

Office of the Premier, Government House, Davostag

The heavy oak doors shut behind Hutorian Ambassador Natalie Ross as she stepped into the dimly lit office. The room was a stark contrast to the cold, monolithic government buildings that surrounded it—here, dark wood paneling and flickering oil lamps gave the illusion of warmth, though there was none to be found in the air between her and the man seated across from her. Axel Rodin, the Premier of Davostag, sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. A practiced politician’s smile curled at the corners of his lips, but his eyes—cold, calculating—never left hers. "Good day, Mr. Premier," Natalie said smoothly, lowering herself into the leather chair opposite him, crossing her ankles and looking straight into him with piercing eyes of her own.

"Madam Ambassador," Rodin greeted, tilting his head slightly. "I appreciate you coming. There's been... a misunderstanding between our nations, and I’d like to clear the air before things escalate beyond control."

Natalie arched an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"The simple truth is this," Rodin went on, leaning back in his chair. "We sought an economic agreement with the so-called Legionary Kundrati for the safety of the one point one million Davostagers trapped within their borders. We had no choice but to ensure they were granted equal rights—without our intervention, they would have remained beneath the boot of that regime’s so-called 'master people.'"

He tapped his fingers against the polished surface of his desk, seemingly choosing his next words carefully. "We see this as a major victory for our people. But let me be absolutely clear: there is no formal alliance between Davostag and the Legion. No guarantee of support. However—" his voice darkened, "—we will take military action if their security is threatened. Whether that threat comes from the international coalition placing hurdles in their way, or from the Legion itself, should they decide to send our people to the camps again."

Natalie exhaled slowly, nodding as if considering his words. Then she leaned forward. "So," she said, voice cool, "you're tying yourself to a despotic totalitarian regime because they are holding one point one million hostages. The alleged billions in economic investment is nothing more than a bribe to keep them from murdering your people. The second you cease being economically useful, you become just another 'lesser being' to them." She let the weight of her words settle before adding, "And if there is no formal guarantee, then the so-called security of those 1.1 million Davostagers isn’t worth the paper it was written on."

Rodin’s smirk barely faltered. "What is formal is the trade agreement we signed," he countered. "The numbers of that trade, of course, are open to interpretation." He waved a hand dismissively. "I don’t care what the Kundrati Union or Kalistan are saying. We are not aligning militarily with them."

Natalie leaned back in her chair, watching him with a keen eye. "If you believe their internal numbers—and yes, we’ve seen them—you are the reason their economy isn't collapsing in on itself. To be clear, we are not seizing your ships," she added, her voice like sharpened steel. "We are searching them. If there is nothing of military value, they go right on their way. Your trade is merely… slowed."

Rodin shrugged, feigning indifference. "Then that should be fine by us."

"If there is any financial offset, we are happy to pick up the tab," Natalie continued, her meaning clear—Hutori would compensate Davostag if their trade took a hit; Hutori had always been good with a carrot.

Rodin exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping once more. Then, his tone shifted. "You understand, of course," he said, voice measured, "that if you want to instigate a war with them, this is your opportunity. I have credible intelligence that they will attack your blockade if these talks do not… 'succeed.'"

Natalie didn’t so much as blink. "Their economy is barely afloat," she said. "Their navy is, by their own admission, propaganda and our own intelligence estimates, a shell. And we are operating so far from their airspace that they couldn't touch us if they tried." She tilted her head. "If Hutori wanted to fight Kundrati, we would be. We're not. Because, quite frankly, we consider it a waste of time."

Rodin chuckled under his breath. "The reason for this meeting," he said, "is simply to clarify Davostag’s position in all this. If the house of cards is going to fall anyway, we see no reason not to give it a nudge. So, if you wish to continue your naval activities, be my guest."

Natalie’s lips curled in the faintest smile. "Glad we understand each other. Now, let’s get to brass tacks—what exactly are you giving them? Aside from billions in direct financial investment?"

Rodin was silent for a moment before finally answering. "Free trade," he said. "That was the basis of the agreement. A potential trilateral deal with Rutania is also on the table." He exhaled. "I asked for the security of our people, and they agreed. The real issue," he admitted, "is the uranium mines. That’s what all this is really about."

Natalie’s eyes sharpened. "Uranium mines?"

"In Kundrati," Rodin clarified. "We don’t have any of our own. This was an old agreement we had with the Kundrati Union, which I simply revived."

A slow, knowing smile spread across Natalie’s face. "You do realize that we have uranium. Right next door."

Rodin blinked, then gave her a small, tight-lipped grin. "Well, would you look at that," he said. "That’s good to know."

"I'm glad we understand each other, Mr. Premier."

Rodin’s expression sobered slightly. "And what will Hutori do," he asked, "when they start launching missiles because of this blockade?"

Natalie’s smile didn’t fade. "What did we do," she asked in return, "when, your people once upon a time sank a single Hutorian destroyer?"

Rodin’s mouth opened slightly—then shut. He nodded. "Well…"

"Need I say more?" Natalie asked, tilting her head slightly.
Rodin sighed, rubbing his temple. "So the question is: will you lift the blockade? Or should we simply allow this to play itself out?" He hesitated before adding, "If it is the latter, Davostag will prepare for the safety of our people in Kundrati—but we will not stand in your way."

Natalie stood, smoothing out her jacket. "Mr. Premier, Hutori has a policy about only ever being enemies with someone once. And we prefer to keep it that way."

Rodin stood as well, extending a hand. "I could not agree more, Madam Ambassador."

Natalie took his hand firmly. "Then pass on a message for us to the Legion."

Rodin arched an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"

She leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Hutori has never fired the first shot." A pause. "But we have always fired the last."

Rodin exhaled slowly. Then he nodded. "Understood."

[Doc]

Office of the Emperor, Cliff Offices, Kaliburg, Grand Duchy of Ananto

The Emperor sat at his desk in the Offices adjacent to the Imperial Residence on Cliff House.  A small chime rang and the Emperor pressed a button to open the door automatically.  In walked the Foreign Minister, Lady Anya Waltrip, preceded by Chancellor of the Empire, Sir David Levine and accompanied by Lady Allison Stuart.  The Chancellor and the Foreign Minister stood before the desk, and in a moment, the Emperor invited them to take a seat in the two chairs arranged before his desk.  As per protocol, Lady Waltrip did not speak directly to the Emperor, but instead, spoke to the Chancellor of the Empire.  Lady Stuart interpreted the Foreign Minister's words in sign to the Emperor, and then interpreted the Emperor's signs in spoken Vrassan to Lady Waltrip.  The Chancellor was merely there as required in a Formal Audience.

"May it please His Majesty, We have the reports from the Etxean and Hutorian delegations," said Lady Waltrip.  "Both meetings were a success.  They have allowed us to open the a For/In Bank branch in Jildrati City, and not only will that work as a conduit for the aid we are sending, but will also allow the Artanians to access the bank.  But additionally, we have met with the Etxeans here in Kaliburg, and we talked about Etxean investments here."

"Lady Waltrip, perhaps you will enlighten us on one point:  How are we sending trade credits, direct aid, and materiel to Etxea, when Etxea is looking to invest here in Kalistan?" asked the Emperor, through Lady Allison Stuart.  "Are they just giving our money back to us?"

"It would seem that Etxean businesses are looking to expand their markets," said Lady Waltrip.  "We will certainly want to get more information from them about what sorts of business they are looking to do.  As long as they aren't directly competing with local businesses, it should be fine.  This first visit was simply a reintroduction. The question of privateers was raised."

"Will you be speaking with Etxea again in the near future?" asked the Emperor.

"I can if it is His Imperial Majesty's wish," answered the Foreign Minister.

"Please inform them that Kalistan would not object to Etxeans hiring Kalistani mariners to sail under Etxean Colors, but will no longer issue Letters of Marque from the Empire. Kalistan has had enough war and conflict, but obviously we will not prevent our people from aiding privately."

"I shall pass along His Imperial Majesty's message," said Lady Waltrip.

"Very well, and of Hutori?"  said the Emperor.

"They have publicly joined the Embargo," said Lady Waltrip.  "We've met with the King's representatives here in Kaliburg, His Highness the Prince James, who is serving as the rep from the Hutorian Government while they dispatch a new Embassy Staff to Kaliburg, and he assured me that the Kingdom actively supported the Embargo, and would begin enforcing trade restrictions between Macon and the Mainland.  We thanked the Prince for his Government's principled Stance, and expressed a desire to see more Artanians stepping up in a similar fashion."

"Excellent work."

"We should expect a visit from the Hutorian Crown Prince within six weeks," said Lady Waltrip. "The purpose of the visit is to re-establish our special fraternal relationship after a long period of mutual neglect. We advise presenting the Crown Prince with a baronetcy and an estate of 250 Acres in Green County, perhaps in the Six Sisters when he arrives. This will reciprocate for the Icehaven Estate that His Imperial Majesty possesses in Hutori."

"Very well," said the Emperor. "Have scouts select a parcel of land, probably closer to Bozo, so they can easily travel in there during the rainy season that you think would be appropriate and appreciated as a gift. We shall present the Crown Prince with the title when he visits. Is there anything else?"

"We continue to monitor the developing situation in Dolgava," said Lady Waltrip. "It is nothing now, but there are rumors that we are hearing of some incorrectness internally. We'll keep an eye on it, but disorder within Dolgava could impact trade in the Empire."

"Excellent. Lady Stuart, please thank Lady Waltrip for her report. Oh, one last thing: What is the progress on reorganization of the Regular Force?"

"His Imperial Majesty would need to meet with the Defense Minister to obtain the latest details, but in cabinet meetings, the last update we heard was that much of the officer corps was about to be cashiered, and we were going to allow the enlistments to lapse for more than 1400 Staff NCOs. So there will also be promotions as well, bringing up junior Officers and NCOs into more senior ranks. And then we will need another enlistment drive most likely. But that is something that His Imperial Majesty could certainly take up, if the Defense Ministry advises it."

"Then we are on track..." said the Emperor. "Thank you for your update Lady Waltrip. As always Chancellor Levine. And Madame Stuart, if you could call Lady Ananto for us, and have her stop over, we should like to take her to lunch this noon, and would like to ask her where she would like to eat so reservations can be made."

"It shall be done," Lady Stuart signed, and then the three left the office. The Emperor, in pressing a button on his desk, closed the door behind them.