12-04-2025, 05:47 PM
Only the power destroys the danger
![[Image: x5KKoM6m.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/x5KKoM6m.jpg)
Situation room "Omega", the Former Palace of Posts and Telegraphs, seat of the Imperial Directorate of National Intelligence and Security, Romula, 19.17.
A hushed silence filled the situation room "Omega", located on the new upper floors in glass and steel added during the renovation of the building. Soundproof walls, a black beech wood table, shielding against any unauthorized transmission. A bare space, designed to contain only the essentials. Automatic shutters shielded almost totally the upcoming twilight and the artificial light fell coldly on the three men seated at the table.
The Secretary of National Intelligence and Security, a forty-year-old man with composed features and a steady gaze, sat in the center, in front of a closed folder, his hands clasped. To his right, with an expression carved in stone and rectangular eyeglasses that reflected the light, the Director General of Intelligence, a sharp face, a raspy voice. In front of them, relaxed but composed, the operative agent, officially an official of the Istalian embassy in Utaristan, unofficially something much more cumbersome.
The agent was thirty-eight years old, with a thick mustache, a short and unkempt beard, wavy brown hair pulled back on a slightly receding forehead. He was wearing jeans, a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a light jacket left on the chair next to him. He looked like the classic employee sent on a mission by ConfCam, the Istalian Confederation of Chambers of Commerce. Yet, the way he observed the two superiors betrayed an intelligence accustomed to moving in the shadows.
The Secretary, in a low and precise tone, asked the agent:
«Agent, update us. Satellite images and local reports confirm that the regime is violently repressing every demonstration. We would like direct confirmation. Is it really that serious?»
The Agent leaned forward slightly, his voice measured but with a hint of irony:
«"Serious" is a kind term, sir. In Utaristan the situation is an orgy of truncheons and deportations. The regime is not only repressing: it is purging, eradicating, humiliating. They are pulling out the old manuals from the 70s'... but with drones» [OOC: he is referring to the repressions of Nevio Russo's regime of the previous century]
«And the pro-democratic forces?» asked the General-Director without changing expression.
«They are resisting. They are reorganizing the coordination cells, but they need support. That said... there are alternative options to simply sending funds and tools»
«Alternatives?» asked the Secretary.
«With the right “incentives” some pieces of the puzzle can be moved» replied the agent with a smirk «figures within the military apparatus and the security services. Not all are loyal to the President, some are simply... used to regular payments. The salaries are not high... with more generous offers... as for the civil bureaucracy, instead, it has been swept away by the purges: there is zero trust there»
The Secretary did not hide a certain concern:
«The Government of Utaristan has openly accused us of fomenting the revolt. They have named names, indicated Istalia. How close are they to the truth?»
The agent let out a tired half smile:
«They move by intuition. They have no concrete evidence. They have intercepted some whispers, some suspicious movements, but nothing that can be brought to an international press conference without appearing paranoid. However, I recommend maximum discretion. Any misstep can become a diplomatic incident»
The Director-General, in a low voice but very cynical, promptly added:
«Let's not worry too much. After Deltaria, we have become the favorite target of regimes in crisis. All the Foreign Ministry has to do is issue a simple statement: “Another tyrant inventing foreign plots to hide his own failure”, and we'll make this dictator look just as pitiful as the last ones!»
«All right» then the Secretary turned back to the agent, his voice softer, his tone betraying a certain discomfort «and… tell me… were you clear with our contacts over there? You received the directives from the Supreme Council, right?»
«If the opposition is successful, we expect due appreciation, political and… economic. Yes, I was clear, I made it clear that our companies will have to have access to the deposits, the markets... and they will have more than substantial royalties, as well as development assistance... and so on»
Then he leaned over in his chair, taking something out of his inside pocket:
«By the way... I have a little something for you» and he took out a funny keychain: a little anime sekowan doll, disproportionate eyes and an absurd smile. He looked at it with an affectionate look for a moment, then casually detached its head, revealing a small USB stick hidden in the plastic neck «Not the most orthodox way to smuggle data... but definitely less suspicious than stuffing it in diplomatic baggage. Inside are studies and geological data from the Ministry of Mines, Industry and Technological Development: natural resources, deposits, chemical analyses, ongoing projects. Little things... that might be of interest to the high places»
The General-Director took the flash drive slowly, then nodded pleased:
«Great work, really. Support operations will begin within two weeks. You will have reinforcements on site, additional resources. But now take two weeks off. You earned it»
The Agent stood up and adjusted his jacket:
«Two weeks? Perfect. I just have a few sekowan series to catch up on... and a pending dinner with a beautiful IPG employe from back home, she still has the Caselloria accent!» and with a final nod he left the room with a chuckle. The doors closed, leaving the Director and the Secretary alone. [OOC: "IPG" is the "Istaliana Petroli e Gas", the state owned oil and gas company]
The latter, after a pause, said in a thoughtful tone:
«The Minister Secretary of State has expressed concerns. She wants guarantees. She does not want the operation to damage our image»
«And her image» the Director-General replied, crossing his hands, his gaze still steady «The Minister has always had these reservations, even on Deltaria. But the Supreme Council of Defense has already decided: guaranteeing constant resources, safe markets and opportunities for expansion is not only strategic, it is necessary!»
The Secretary, still thoughtful, continued in a low tone:
«We are running, faster and faster, I admit that I too fear that we risk biting off more than we can chew. I do not know if it is convenient, or right» he remembered his speeches into the Congress Committee for Security and Defense when the PSD was at the opposition. How naive, he thought to himself.
«Only a powerful Istalia can prevent anyone from threatening us» replied the Director-General cold and cutting «Only the power destroys the danger!»
Silence fell in the room, then the Secretary nodded, slowly, his eyes fixed on the void, as if searching for something outside that room, now "cut in half" by the orange blade of light of the romulan sunset streaming through the window.
Situation room "Omega", the Former Palace of Posts and Telegraphs, seat of the Imperial Directorate of National Intelligence and Security, Romula, 19.17.
A hushed silence filled the situation room "Omega", located on the new upper floors in glass and steel added during the renovation of the building. Soundproof walls, a black beech wood table, shielding against any unauthorized transmission. A bare space, designed to contain only the essentials. Automatic shutters shielded almost totally the upcoming twilight and the artificial light fell coldly on the three men seated at the table.
The Secretary of National Intelligence and Security, a forty-year-old man with composed features and a steady gaze, sat in the center, in front of a closed folder, his hands clasped. To his right, with an expression carved in stone and rectangular eyeglasses that reflected the light, the Director General of Intelligence, a sharp face, a raspy voice. In front of them, relaxed but composed, the operative agent, officially an official of the Istalian embassy in Utaristan, unofficially something much more cumbersome.
The agent was thirty-eight years old, with a thick mustache, a short and unkempt beard, wavy brown hair pulled back on a slightly receding forehead. He was wearing jeans, a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a light jacket left on the chair next to him. He looked like the classic employee sent on a mission by ConfCam, the Istalian Confederation of Chambers of Commerce. Yet, the way he observed the two superiors betrayed an intelligence accustomed to moving in the shadows.
The Secretary, in a low and precise tone, asked the agent:
«Agent, update us. Satellite images and local reports confirm that the regime is violently repressing every demonstration. We would like direct confirmation. Is it really that serious?»
The Agent leaned forward slightly, his voice measured but with a hint of irony:
«"Serious" is a kind term, sir. In Utaristan the situation is an orgy of truncheons and deportations. The regime is not only repressing: it is purging, eradicating, humiliating. They are pulling out the old manuals from the 70s'... but with drones» [OOC: he is referring to the repressions of Nevio Russo's regime of the previous century]
«And the pro-democratic forces?» asked the General-Director without changing expression.
«They are resisting. They are reorganizing the coordination cells, but they need support. That said... there are alternative options to simply sending funds and tools»
«Alternatives?» asked the Secretary.
«With the right “incentives” some pieces of the puzzle can be moved» replied the agent with a smirk «figures within the military apparatus and the security services. Not all are loyal to the President, some are simply... used to regular payments. The salaries are not high... with more generous offers... as for the civil bureaucracy, instead, it has been swept away by the purges: there is zero trust there»
The Secretary did not hide a certain concern:
«The Government of Utaristan has openly accused us of fomenting the revolt. They have named names, indicated Istalia. How close are they to the truth?»
The agent let out a tired half smile:
«They move by intuition. They have no concrete evidence. They have intercepted some whispers, some suspicious movements, but nothing that can be brought to an international press conference without appearing paranoid. However, I recommend maximum discretion. Any misstep can become a diplomatic incident»
The Director-General, in a low voice but very cynical, promptly added:
«Let's not worry too much. After Deltaria, we have become the favorite target of regimes in crisis. All the Foreign Ministry has to do is issue a simple statement: “Another tyrant inventing foreign plots to hide his own failure”, and we'll make this dictator look just as pitiful as the last ones!»
«All right» then the Secretary turned back to the agent, his voice softer, his tone betraying a certain discomfort «and… tell me… were you clear with our contacts over there? You received the directives from the Supreme Council, right?»
«If the opposition is successful, we expect due appreciation, political and… economic. Yes, I was clear, I made it clear that our companies will have to have access to the deposits, the markets... and they will have more than substantial royalties, as well as development assistance... and so on»
Then he leaned over in his chair, taking something out of his inside pocket:
«By the way... I have a little something for you» and he took out a funny keychain: a little anime sekowan doll, disproportionate eyes and an absurd smile. He looked at it with an affectionate look for a moment, then casually detached its head, revealing a small USB stick hidden in the plastic neck «Not the most orthodox way to smuggle data... but definitely less suspicious than stuffing it in diplomatic baggage. Inside are studies and geological data from the Ministry of Mines, Industry and Technological Development: natural resources, deposits, chemical analyses, ongoing projects. Little things... that might be of interest to the high places»
The General-Director took the flash drive slowly, then nodded pleased:
«Great work, really. Support operations will begin within two weeks. You will have reinforcements on site, additional resources. But now take two weeks off. You earned it»
The Agent stood up and adjusted his jacket:
«Two weeks? Perfect. I just have a few sekowan series to catch up on... and a pending dinner with a beautiful IPG employe from back home, she still has the Caselloria accent!» and with a final nod he left the room with a chuckle. The doors closed, leaving the Director and the Secretary alone. [OOC: "IPG" is the "Istaliana Petroli e Gas", the state owned oil and gas company]
The latter, after a pause, said in a thoughtful tone:
«The Minister Secretary of State has expressed concerns. She wants guarantees. She does not want the operation to damage our image»
«And her image» the Director-General replied, crossing his hands, his gaze still steady «The Minister has always had these reservations, even on Deltaria. But the Supreme Council of Defense has already decided: guaranteeing constant resources, safe markets and opportunities for expansion is not only strategic, it is necessary!»
The Secretary, still thoughtful, continued in a low tone:
«We are running, faster and faster, I admit that I too fear that we risk biting off more than we can chew. I do not know if it is convenient, or right» he remembered his speeches into the Congress Committee for Security and Defense when the PSD was at the opposition. How naive, he thought to himself.
«Only a powerful Istalia can prevent anyone from threatening us» replied the Director-General cold and cutting «Only the power destroys the danger!»
Silence fell in the room, then the Secretary nodded, slowly, his eyes fixed on the void, as if searching for something outside that room, now "cut in half" by the orange blade of light of the romulan sunset streaming through the window.