Eirian Anecdotes
#1

(A Joint Post with Xiomera)

Chancellor's Study, Geminus

"It's a genius idea, sir, it's just that I don't know if the Milinticans would agree to it." Derek Hale, the Eirian Minister of the Economy, sat before the Chancellor, engaged in discussion. "Their economy is stagnating, but they are socialists and Very hateful of any perceived foreign imperialism. This can't look like we're taking advantage of their money problems."

"I know. If you'd like to draw some drafts, I'll call President Matōchmizalo and ask him." Hale stood, nodding and heading for the door. Lancaster picked up his desk phone. "Could you get President Matōchmizalo of Milintica on the line please?"


At the presidential residence, President Matōchmizalo was working on the planned international introduction of a new Milintican food product when his aide poked his head through the door. “Sir, the Eirian Chancellor is calling and asking to speak with you.”

Matōchmizalo put down his documents, an interested look on his face. When the call was transferred, he quickly looked at a dossier before answering. “Chancellor, good to hear from you. How can the Democratic Republic be of assistance?”


"Mister President, it's a pleasure, as always. And I was hoping to exchange some mutual economic gains, from one Democratic Republic to another. I'm apologize if I'm too prompt or straight to the point, but a trade agreement at this time would be incredibly beneficial to both of our nations. A way to lift both of our economies. Would you and your nation be receptive to a potential trade deal?" The Chancellor kept his tone even and light, a slight accent bleeding through.

”No need to apologize, Chancellor. I have been accused of being blunt many times, but I see little point in beating around the bush. So, I appreciate the directness,” Matōchmizalo replied. “We would be highly interested. What did you have in mind?”

"Well, Eiria has very strong Processed Goods and electronics industries, however, as these markets grow, demand for materials also increased. And while Eiria has plenty precious medals such as Gold and Silver, we border on not meeting demand for others, such as tin, lead, and zinc. And if my information is correct, those are materials that Milintica has."

"So, here's what I propose: We give Milintican companies the ability to sell these needed materials to Eirian companies, and in return, Eirian consumer goods companies get access to the Milintican Market. You can also rest assured that your minerals are being sold to a nation with extensive environmental regulations."

”The assurance is appreciated. Milintica does have certain expectations of the nations we trade with, when it comes to issues like the environment and the treatment of workers. My aides have assured me that Eiria meets our requirements in this regard and would be a well-suited trade partner. We would be happy to agree to such an exchange.” Matōchmizalo paused. “There are certain trade goods we would like to introduce to foreign markets as well, and we would be interested in doing so in Eiria. We’d be willing to partner with Eirian companies that meet our expectations.”

"I don't think you'll have much trouble finding Eirian companies that meet your standards. If you don't mind me asking, what kind of trade goods did you have in mind to introduce to Eirian markets? I can provide suggestions on how and where to do so, if I'm able to know what the products are."

”The products we had in mind, to begin, are some food products that we have produced and sold here in Milintica for years. We have a very environmentally and socially conscious population, and many of our citizens prefer not to eat meat. We offer a variety of products under the MiliMeat brand that could be of interest. They are made of soy and potato proteins, and are an excellent substitute for beef, pork or sausage products. They could provide both a health benefit and an environmental benefit,” Matōchmizalo said. “We’ve been wanting to expand the product line, and Eiria could be a great test market.”

"That's very intriguing. Meat is much less common in Eiria, and as such, it is very expensive. We have a sizeable vegetarian and vegan population as well, so I think those products could be very popular, especially in some bigger cities. What kind of Eirian goods would sell well in Milintica, out of curiosity?" Lancaster asked, grabbing a pen and paper with his spare hand.

”If the cost is right, just about anything you have to offer, really. Consumer electronics and vehicles, in particular, would do well. I would recommend starting with basic, affordable versions as those will do better here. Also, our people would highly enjoy some variety in food and beverage products, so if there are any you think would be a good introduction to Eirian culture, that would probably be a hit here also.”

"Ah, our reputation for alcohol precedes us, I see. Our consumer electronics companies will be delighted, given how much competition there is in that industry in Eiria. And given how much I've dropped my phone without damage, I think you'll be happy with the quality of our electronics." Lancaster joked, donning a light smile.

"I tend to drop the horrible things myself, so I am glad they are durable," Matōchmizalo replied. "I think we have the outlines of a good deal here for both parties, and our aides and such can hammer out the finer details."

"I agree. I'll get my Minister of the Economy working on that right away. I had run the idea past him a little but ago, and he enjoyed the idea, so he'll get right on it." The Chancellor paused, considering how to phrase a question. "Do you think the members of your Legislature would be on board with this plan? I'm not sure how Milintican politics works, and I don't want to put unnecessary strain on your administration." 

”The majority of our legislature is of my party, the MPP. Therefore, it should not be too hard to gain approval at all. There may be a few far-left MPP or PPM representatives who oppose it, but between the MPP majority and the Greens we should have no issues at all. I assume your legislature would also be on board?”

"I believe so. I may have to frame it a certain way for the ModRights to agree, but that's not too hard of a challenge. Perspective is one of the greatest verbal weapons anyone can wield, after all." Lancaster wrote a couple notes on his legal pad. "I'm glad you are as enthusiastic as I am about this opportunity."

”Of course! There will be some who question why I am striking a deal with a capitalist country, but Eiria has a good reputation as far as issues that matter to us. It’s not like I’m trading with Xiomera or Shuell,” Matōchmizalo chuckled. “I think this will be good for both our countries.”

"Agreed. And I'm glad we could serve as a viable alternative to Shuell and Xiomera. Those aren't exactly ideal trade partners. Also, good luck to your athletes in the Olympics! I hope we serve as gracious hosts for the Milintican Delegation."

”Thank you, we’re looking forward to visiting and competing. I am sure your hospitality will be excellent. And we wish your athletes the best of luck as well,” Matōchmizalo replied pleasantly.

"Thank you, I'll extend that to our Athletes. Have an excellent day, Mister President!" Lancaster placed the phone on the receiver, scribbling even more cursive on the legal pad with a blue pen before standing and walking to his secretary. "Could you get this to Minister Hale please, preferably as soon as possible?" He asked, handing her the sheet of paper. Hale certainly has a lot of work ahead of him.

When the call was done, Matōchmizalo sat back with a pleased sigh. The trade deal would shore up Milintica’s struggling economy and relieve domestic pressure on his administration. But it was also a way for Milintica to begin making inroads, however small, with the rest of the world. “Have Tetlalli and his team begin working on finalizing this,” he told his aide, referring to the Minister of Trade. “And have Environment and Development assist them in putting together the press campaign for this deal,” he added. Coming to an agreement with Lancaster had been the easy part. Matōchmizalo now had to sell the deal to his party and to the Milintican people - some of whom would be less than enthused at dealings with a capitalist country. “Call the Prime Minister and have him come by, he’ll need to help me sell this.”

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#2

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
September 6th, 10:17 AM

The halls of the Chancellor's Manor flew by as Alice Lancaster walked quickly through them, dodging assistants and aides as she made her way from the Staff Offices towards the Executive Office. The paintings adorning the walls shone with a rainbow of colors, the variety of art styles and historical movements making her examine each one as she passed. A darker portrait of Irina Pečs made the more vibrant paintings from Eiria's Rouge Period seem out of place, causing Alice to raise an eyebrow. Interesting placement for a portrait of Eiria's founder.

She reached a fork in the hallway, heavily guarded by Solar Guards. One hall led to the Chancellor's secretary, the other led to the Chief of Staff's office. She debated which entrance to take for a moment, before ducking to the right, nodding to the guards as she entered. Ava Christiansen sat behind a full, yet neat desk, watching her laptop intently. She turned and nodded towards the Minister. "Morning. Anything I can help you with?"

Alice sipped a paper coffee cup in her hand, gesturing towards the door into her brother's study. "Is he in there? I need to talk to him for a minute. If you hear yelling, don't be alarmed." She sighed. "Do you know why he hasn't made an official announcement on Cozamalotl?"

Ava pursed her lips. "He didn't know what to say. Hell, he still doesn't. I've helped him for hours over the past week, and he still hated everything we drew up. They're still trying to write a speech in there now. I had to get back to work. He's got Lacewick and Petrova on speed dial for any 'free' time he gets. It's…" She trailed off, glancing down at her desk. "He's stuck. I don't think I've ever seen him like this."

"I'll go talk to him." Alice opened the antique door and stepped into the study, sipping her coffee with her free hand. Joshua Lacewick, the Chancellor's Press Representative, and Karolina Petrova, the Director of Communications for the Chancellor and his staff, were standing on opposing ends of the Chancellor's desk, watching Eiria's head of state type on his laptop. Various scribbled notes and papers lined the desk, forming small towers of scrap paper and partially opened files.

All three of them glanced up at Alice as she walked in, Petrova and Lacewick rubbing their backs and sighing. "Morning, Alice. What's up?" The Chancellor noticed her reserved and slightly angry expression, quickly changing his tone. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something is wrong. You-" She gestured her cup at him for emphasis. "-haven't made any speech regarding Cozamalotl's death. It's been a week, for Angel's sake. Pictures of Cozamalotl are in the remembrance section of cathedrals. The ethnic Huenyan community is up in arms. There were protests in Liberty Square yesterday!"

She cleared her throat, her tone turning significantly less aggressive. "My point is, you need to say something yourself. A couple paragraphs from Lacewick won't do it." She turned quickly to the Press Secretary. "No offence."

She continued. "Now, I've seen you in these slumps before. The strung out writer, completely at a loss for where to begin. But this is one time you cannot be in a slump. Alvarez already denounced this execution, and imposed sanctions. If we don't stand with her soon, Calhualyana will pounce. We have a chance to put her further on the defensive."

"That's a very good point. I was incredibly happy when Alvarez made that speech. Well…" He trailed off. "Well, as happy as one could be in that situation. I was glad she stood up to Xiomera as strongly as she did, at least. And with Pavía behind her too. Unfortunately, Alvarez's announcement was part of the reason I couldn't come up with anything sooner. I don't want to appear insincere or like I'm trying to steal Alvarez's thunder, because both would only hurt everyone involved and give Calhualyana a free win."

Alice's annoyed and incredulous expression returned. "Well, not saying anything has hurt us. Possibly even more than if you had seemed insincere to start with. And 'Stealing Alvarez's Thunder'?! That's not a problem here! We need to appear as a united force against Calhualyana, and inaction just gives her the opportunity to divide and conquer us for the propaganda value. Just… get moving. I don't care if it's a long speech, just please write someth-" Alice noticed small black bags under her brother's squinted eyes. "How much sleep have you gotten in the past few days?"

"......Enough." Will muttered under his breath. "Anyway, I'll work on it some more on my own. I'll let you both-" He nodded at Petrova and Lacewick, who were both standing like they were watching an Olympic ping pong match "-get back to work. Also, please have the Press Contingent gathered in the briefing by eleven-thirty. I'll give my statement then."

---

The scattered whispers of the Eirian press contingent died down fast as the Chancellor took the podium. He cleared his throat and examined his note sheet, before deciding to fold it up and put it in his pocket. He spoke in crisp, slightly accented English. "Thank you for your patience today. What I am about to say is long overdue, and it has taken me much too long to put my thoughts on this subject together. But, it must be said regardless."

"As you all know, a week ago, Xiomera democratic activist Cozamalotl was executed in Xiomera under the order of Empress Calhualyana." He paused. "However, let's not kid ourselves. Calling this killing an execution gives it far more legitimacy than it deserves. This was a murder of a peaceful political opponent by a brutal, power-hungry regime."

"Now, Cozamalotl, may he rest in peace, was a great advocate for a democratic state in Xiomera. Calhualyana may have murdered him, but no matter how many people she murders, she will never kill that dream. That is what she is most scared of, and is her greatest weakness. Her wanton cruelty leaves her open for rebellion and resistance from her own subjects."

His expression was filled with dedication, and he gazed at the television cameras with a glint in his eyes. "We must stand in a united front against the Xiomeran Regime, or die alone while Calhualyana divides us. I must applaud Prime Minister Alvarez of Lauchenoiria for her strong statements and actions after Cozamalotl's execution. She sets an excellent example of superb democratic leadership for the world. I look forward to working together with the Prime Minister in the future."

"The blood of Cozamalotl and countless other innocents is on Calhualyana's hands, and no matter what she says, we cannot forget that. Don't let the Xiomeran propaganda machine obscure the brutal truth of their actions. They won't hesitate to exploit every last weakness they can see in anyone they think they can control or bully. They already overthrew another democratic government in Auria. They wouldn't hesitate to do the same in Eiria."

He focused in on the cameras further, speaking with fervor and intensity. "Don't let what they have done get buried. Yell it from the rooftops, write it in newspapers, talk about it with friends. Don't let it die. Don't let Cozamalotl's legacy, memory, or dream die."

He gave a slight nod, to both the cameras and the reporters.. "Thank you for your time."

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#3

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
January 31st, 8:38 PM
Election Day



Chancellor William Lancaster sat at his desk, twirling his pen after a long day's work. The frantic tempo of the Manor's working wing had dwindled to a trickle as the few staff who were working went home to their families. He stared out the large windows of the Manor onto the gardens, an unreadable expression on his face.

Today is the last official day of my administration.[i]

The feelings washed over him like a tsunami, and he leaned back in his chair, admiring every little detail of his office and committing each to memory. [i]I never really appreciated the grandness, the opulence, or status of this room. Over a century of details that Chancellor after Chancellor have overlooked or forgotten. It's a curious thing.
He ran his hand across his ornate wooden desk, taking a moment to examine each little detail. Beautiful.

He absentmindedly organized the few papers remaining on his desk, the usual piles of files having been removed and archived. The papers remaining mostly were reports on the situation in Auria and bureaucratic documents needed to manage the interim period and Lancaster's departure. He placed his favorite fidgeting pen back in its place and gave the desk a once over, giving himself a satisfied nod.

The turbulent emotions still ate at him, and he ran one hand through his tousled hair. What will I do? What can I do about all the things I wanted to fix, all the things I could've fixed? How can I go on knowing about all of my failures and how everyone will see them? What can I even do with my life now?

As if sensing his husband's emotional waves, Jacob Trudeau entered the study, his bulky frame occupying most of the doorway. "Are you finished, Mons Amrē? In an instant, Lancaster dismissed his existential thoughts. "Yes, my love. Just finished a few things. Finished for the day. Any news on the election?"

Jacob shook his head. "Nope. The news agencies are incredibly hesitant on showing any predictions, although from what I heard, Stendē and Morrin are in the lead." He glanced down at the Chancellor with a knowing smile. "It'll be nice to finally have some free time to ourselves, regardless of who wins."

Will sighed and smiled, taking his husband's hand.

"Amen to that."

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#4

Chancellor’s Manor, Geminus
February 6th, 2022, 10:12 AM
Inauguration Day


Chancellor William Lancaster stood behind his desk, staring down at the vacant workspace with a surreal form of relief. Never seen it this clean before, not even in photoshoots. Many of the books had been taken off of the bookshelves, and the mementoes and pictures had been taken off of the windowsill. Even the stash of caramels he had kept in his desk’s bottom drawer had not been spared. The moment was bittersweet, and although his departure had felt like a huge weight off of his shoulders, the melancholy feeling persisted.

He made one final lap around the room, attempting to commit all that he could to memory. The trim, each detail of the paintings, that little stain on the wall behind a bookshelf that some Chancellor before him had likely caused. Every detail made the room shine with significance, and he felt an odd sense of guilt about not having known about them before. He straightened the pens on the desk one final time, before heading to the door, taking one last look behind him. Goodbye.

The door shut behind him with a soft click.

—-

The halls of the manor’s Working Wing were unusually silent. Most of the staff had already said their goodbyes, finding other jobs in politics, the media, or government. The Grand Hall, the famous hall of portraits, had gained another painting on its walls. Chancellor Lancaster stared at the realistic portrait of him with a slight smile, admiring the artist’s talent. His face was permanently frozen in oil paint, giving the viewer an expression of content pensiveness. The Chancellor shook his head and continued walking, his smile growing a little bit.

Near the end of the hallway, a number of remaining staff had gathered, led by Ava Christiansen, the Chancellor’s loyal Chief of Staff. He gave Christiansen a large hug, before going down the lines of staff to thank them personally. His eyes filled with tears, but he kept smiling, unwilling to spend his last hours in office crying about his perceived “losses”. As he got to the end of the line, the Proviri took his husband’s hand, saying so many things without speaking a single word. Lancaster held his husband’s hand tightly, grateful(and desperate) for his support.

The pair slowly walked out of the working exit of the Manor, before entering the long motorcade that would take them to Liberty Square. The Chancellor tok one last look at the Manor that he had lived and worked in for six years, trying to maintain his composure. The wave of emotions hit him again as the manor faded out of view, and he grabbed Jake’s hand again, his presence bringing Lancaster a large sense of stability. He sighed and closed his eyes, embracing his last moments as Chancellor.

As the motorcade pulled up to the secure parking location outside Liberty Square, the Chancellor and Proviri made eye contact one last time before exiting the vehicle, quickly moving to where the crowds could see them. Leah Stendē and Lynn Morrin were waiting on the steps, accompanied by Justice Minister Lira Nērala and Stendē’s husband. They straightened their postures as they saw him approach the bottom of the steps, a sign of respect during Lancaster’s final moments as executive.

One by one, he climbed each marble step, the Proviri right behind him. As he reached the platform, he shook hands with Stendē and Morrin, nodding his congratulations. They all stood behind him as he took the podium, prepared to give the traditional farewell speech to the crowd of thousands gathered in the Square. He had no notes nor a written copy of his speech, but he had rehearsed it meticulously to himself the night before, as inspiration had struck late at night.

“My friends, it has certainly been an incredible six years. These opportunities, these challenges, have truly been incomparable to anything I’ve ever experienced. I have been struggling the past few days to think of a way to summarize my experiences while in office. To think of some buzzword or catchy phrase to summarize six years of both successes and failures. Now, I realize how pointless of a task that is."

"To attempt to simplify six years of complex political situations into ten seconds of speaking is virtually impossible without cutting out too many crucial details, rendering the activity pointless. But, as I looked over all we have accomplished the past few years, everything we've been through, I did notice one common link: You." He pointed out into the crowd. "Although you likely haven't agreed with everything we've done during my administration, your support, advice, and yes, even your criticism has helped us move forward."

"Now, as I look out at you all, I am reminded of both our mistakes and our successes, and I would like to ask forgiveness for my shortcomings and thank you for your support. You've chosen two brilliant leaders to succeed me, and for that, I could not be more happy. Now, I would like to present your Chancellor and Vice Chancellor, Leah Stendē and Lynn Morrin!"

He stepped back as the two women stepped forward, holding their hands up in victorious solidarity. Morrin stepped back again as Leah Stendē approached the podium with the Minister of Justice, holding her husband's hand while holding the other one up. Minister Nērala cleared her throat and began speaking into the microphone.

"Repeat after me: I, Leah Stendē, do truthfully swear to protect the Republic at all costs."

"I, Leah Stendē, do truthfully swear to protect the Republic at all costs."

"I swear to protect the spirit of Eirian democracy to the best of my ability, and to preserve the constitutional rights of the people while I hold office."

"I swear to protect the spirit of Eirian democracy to the best of my ability, and to preserve the constitutional rights of the people while I hold office."

"I swear that I will do these duties to the best of my ability, and I forswear any influences that would influence or inhibit my ability to do these duties."

"I swear that I will do these duties to the best of my ability, and I forswear any influences that would influence or inhibit my ability to do these duties."

"It is my honor to pronounce you, Leah Stendē, Chancellor of the Democratic Republic of Eiria!"

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#5

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
February 13th, 2022, 6:24 PM

"Yes, I know of his reputation, but that isn't a good thing! You know that his nomination would piss off Meyer and the rest of the Greens. Why even suggest him?"

Chancellor Stendē sighed, putting her head in her hands. The first week of her administration had been solely focused on building her cabinet, and the coalition had been… less than civil in their help. She and her Vice-Chancellor had narrowed down thirteen of the fifteen cabinet members, working tirelessly on each appointment until a final candidate was selected. The two that were left were the positions of Minister of Environment (which the Green party coveted) and Minister of the Caxcanan Union (which, due to lack of precedent, was proving to be difficult to fill).

Leah Stendē put yet another résumé sheet aside with a sigh. Her new desk, once clean and polished, was filled with files and boxes of résumés. Lynn Morrin sat across the desk from the Chancellor, examining file after file closely. "What about Elena Sokolova? Seems almost overqualified. Former Deputy Ecological Manager at Saliovs National Park, former Research Team Head at the National Environmental Ministry, Ecological Advisor to the Governor of Geminus and later Minister of the Environment for Geminus Province. Looks like an absolutely amazing candidate. Pretty much the perfect candidate!"

Stendē sighed and shook her head. "If it only was that simple. Sokolova is a no, although it is hard to pass up that experience. She basically called most of the Green Party, including myself, spineless cowards for 'not doing enough to combat carbon emissions', which is flat out not true. She also seriously suggested that the Environmental Ministry should be given the judicial power to essentially serve as judge, jury, and executioner on vandalism and environmental pollution cases." Morrin winced and put the file to the side. "Yeah, not what we need right now."

Stendē picked up another set of papers, nodding to herself. "Here's one. Janis Abolinš. Former Head of Ecological Examinations for the Ministry of the Environment, Former Minister of the Environment for Serenity Province, and current Professor of Ecology at Vilcane University in Serenity City. Member of the Green Party, no obvious scandals or offensive moments in his career." She handed the papers to her Vice Chancellor, who read and nodded her approval. "Looks good. Let's add him to the pile of recommendations."

Both women were silent for a moment, not wanting to speak first. Stendē cleared her throat. "We can't delay this any further. We have to select a CU Minister. I know it's not exactly the easiest thing to do, but we have to set a good precedent with our appointment." She thought for a moment. "We could promote an ambassador who is already serving. That would be a simple way to guarantee that whomever we appoint has a strong relationship with at least one of the CU nations before they take office."

Morrin tilted her head, making a face of hesitation. "While that is a possibility, and may be a good idea once the CU is entrenched, currently the alliance needs to be stabilized and the administration built from scratch. We would need to find someone who can both maintain solid relations and build the administrative and military leadership structures. Someone who would be able to negotiate specifics with foreign governments and maintain a regulated amount of autonomy." She pursed her lips. "This is a very specific skill set. It's almost like…" She trailed off, a thought striking her. She looked at Stendē, a glint in her eye. "I have a thought."

It only took a few moments for Stendē to come to the same realization. "Oh, wow. That's… perfect. Administrative and Military experience, good relations with CU leaders, and not hard to get appointed." She sat back in her chair, relieved. "Dieuv, that's perfect." She picked up her desk phone. "Could you have Minister Lancaster come over here at her earliest convenience please?"

---

"No. No way."

Alice Lancaster sat in the third chair in the Chancellor's Study, with a defiant expression on her face. "I can't do that to him. Do what you wish, but it won't be with my support."

Both Stendē and Morrin were taken aback. "I thought you'd be on board with this. After all, you're the one who knows him best, besides the former Proviri of course. If he was offered a position like this, wouldn't he take it? I worked with him for six years. I think he'd love it." The Chancellor replied, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, he'd take it in a heartbeat. Which is why I hesitate to offer it." Lancaster looked down at the floor. "You saw how he looked by the end of his term. Dark eyes from little to no sleep, nails chewed raw, hair pulled out. He'd never admit it, but his time as Chancellor was his own special form of hell. I can't condone any plan that could do that to him again. I know this position wouldn't have that level of stress, but still…" She trailed off. "This kind of position would honestly be his dream job. Cooperative, with a lot of freedom to create new structures and propose new ideas to improve the region. But I just…"

Morrin bowed her head in sympathy. "Don't you think that he had similar fears and worries for renewing your appointment while he was in office? He'd hate to put any sort of inconvenience, and yet he still reappointed you, because he knew it's what you love and what you're good at. You've already said that this is something he would enjoy doing, and be skilled at. Plus, he's already elected to the Senate. This could potentially serve as a less intensive position for him than a Senate position."

The Diplomacy Minister sighed and adjusted her hair over her ear. "Fine. But promise me this: You won't let it get as bad as last time. I didn't do enough to try to help him recover from his taxing days, and that's on me. But promise me it won't get to that extreme." As the Chancellor nodded her assent, Lancaster sighed and stood from her chair. "I'll tell him. Thank you for consulting me on this, I respect that immensely."

As the Minister left, the Chancellor and her Vice-Chancellor exchanged satisfied glances. The Cabinet members had been selected, and their selections would now go to the Senate for confirmation. Now, it was time to focus on running Eiria and fulfilling their legislative agenda.

The honeymoon period is over. Now, the real fun begins.

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#6

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
April 7th, 2022, 6:27 PM

Chancellor Leah Stendē sat behind the desk of the large oak desk, thoroughly exhausted. Her normal rush of meetings, duties, and work had been made difficult by her recent inability to sleep. Her trip to Fjodorova Army Base, while it provided a solid PR opportunity, had drained her. Their faces. Stoic, hopeful, nonchalant. I'm sending them into a battlefield. Who am I to force them to risk their lives?

She hadn't told anyone the reason she couldn't sleep, at least, not in entirety. She had told her husband Mikel that she was worried about the deployment's chances of success, which was true, but that was just a shallow explanation of what she was feeling. And though he tried so hard to help, his sympathy never really connected. I shouldn't have done that damn PR stunt.

She glanced over at her dinner, a half-eaten salad and a barely touched salmon filet, and mindlessly moved her fork, pushing a loose tomato back and forth across the salad plate. A knock at the door made her look up from her idle fidgeting. "Entriet." She commanded, putting the silver salad fork back on the plate.

Julius Riekstins, her Chief of Staff and longtime friend, stood in the doorway, stoicly glancing across Stendē's desk at the remains of her dinner. He cleared his throat before speaking, his eyes revealing the sympathy and pity he felt towards Stendē's situation. "Madam Chancellor. Apologies, but you have a meeting. I can send someone up for the plates while you two are speaking."

Stendē's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought I didn't have any outside meetings scheduled tonight. And I didn't think I scheduled any internal meetings or briefings, aside from the Aurian situation report. Who's the meeting with?" Riekstins stepped out of the doorway, revealing a silent William Lancaster, who stepped in to his former office quickly. Riekstins shut the door behind him, leaving the Chancellor and Minister alone to talk.

"Minister Lancaster. How are things in New Riga?" Stendē withdrew her exhausted manner into one of formal politeness, attempting to project a professional kindness. The relationship between Stendē and Lancaster, while strengthened by their long stint working together, had it's power dynamic flipped after Stendē became Chancellor, causing a bit of uncertainty over what level of formality was warranted.

"They are perfectly fine, Madam Chancellor. I really can't complain." He trailed off, seemingly considering his phrasing. At that moment, seeing her former boss's expression, Stendē made a realization. "Riekstins brought you here, didn't he? He asked you here to help me. To teach me a lesson like some struggling school kid. Well, I'll tell you what: I'm fine! You don't need to condescend or patronize me. I understand how to do my goddamn job. You don't need to tell me anything!"

Lancaster bowed his head, speaking softly. "You're right that I don't need to tell you how to do your job. You're doing amazingly on your own. I'm not here to 'teach' you anything." As Stendē's anger cooled, she sat down, meeting his gaze as he spoke. “I’m here to help you.”

“Help me? With what?” The Chancellor’s tone had cooled from angry to stoically curious. “If you don’t intend to ‘teach’ me something, how do you intend to help?”

Lancaster wordlessly pulled out a blue cloth-bound journal and set it on the desk, watching Stendē as she grabbed and examined it. “There’s a fabric bookmark in one of the pages. I’m usually not to show anyone else this, but since it’s information you’d already be able to access anyways, I doubt it’ll matter.” His tone had become distanced, filled with an unclear emotion.

Stendē read parts of the bookmarked page with confused curiosity. "Private Jacques Bernay, October third, 2020, Zapotlán. Corporal Angelē Ozola, October third… What is this?" She stared at the Minister as he stood, slowly pacing back and forth, before answering. "In the daily intelligence reports during the Xiomeran Civil War, there was always a page in the back. The very last page of every report was a list of names, ranks, dates, and locations. It's nice, huh?" He asked Stendē as the meaning of the names sunk in. "They shoved all of the dead soldiers in the back, as an afterthought. How respectful. How honorable." The spite and regret in his voice was palpable.

Stendē looked back down at the book, concerned and slightly horrified. "You… kept track of every one? Every single Eirian casualty? I get that you do courtesy calls or letters to the families, but why keep the names? How can you keep the names?"

Lancaster sighed. "It's a punishment, I suppose. A penance. I've… I've grown to depend on having the names with me. It helps me believe that I've done more for them than just…" He didn't need to finish that thought. Send them to their deaths.

The few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. "Are you trying to convince me not to send troops to Auria? Not to come to our ally's aid in their most desperate time of need, and let Aurians suffer and die in our inaction?"

Lancaster rapidly shook his head. "Of course not. That's not what I'm trying to say. It's… a warning, one that I wish someone had given me. You have to find a way to cope with it, or justify it to yourself. That's the only way you can survive."

Another beat of silence filled the room. "Does it ever go away?" Stendē asked vainly, already knowing the answer.

"No, at least, not to my knowledge. It just… changes. It takes different forms, especially after the fact. You can see every mistake you made, every misstep, every bout of indecision… And you can look back and count how many lives were potentially lost through your action alone." The Minister pursed his lips. "Don't get me wrong, it's not always on your mind. I found ways to distract myself, and to put it in the back of my mind for later. But, you have to address it eventually."

Stendē furrowed her brow, a thought crossing her mind. "If that's true… May I ask you a question? Why didn't you launch an intervention in Auria earlier? Did you not want them on your conscience? Was that it? Did you risk Aurian lives so selfishly?" Her tone grew angry once again, but this time is was cold anger, chilling and persistent. "Did you want to pass it off to the next person, just pass the burden along? Answer me. Did you?"

"I don't know! For Angel's sake, I don't know!" Lancaster shouted quickly, before breaking into a despairing silence while turned away from his boss. "I wasn't sure what would happen. I was selfish in that regard. I didn't want to add more to the burden if I could avoid it. I didn't want to recklessly add more names to the list, more families to call. I wanted the luxury of certainty." Lancaster looked back at the Chancellor, a mix of guilt and gratefulness in his eyes. "It sounds strange, but thank you for asking me this. It's been haunting me for months." He paused, his emotions returning to a more average intensity. "But would it have really been better? Would it have resulted in less casualties due to enemy entrenchment, or more deaths due to recklessness?" He mused to himself, pondering questions no one could answer.

Stendē clenched her jaw. "I don't know. But we can't wait longer to find out." She moved out from behind the desk, making eye contact with Lancaster. "We should both get back to work. Thank you, Will, for your concern. And understanding."

Lancaster gave a slight nod, before picking up the journal from the desk and starting for the door. "Does Jake know? About the book." Stendē asked as he was halfway out of the door.

"No. I never told him. I don't think I could ever do that to him, no matter how much he would want to help." He stopped in the doorway for another moment. "If you ever need me, I'm one call away. And… I'm sorry."

The door shut behind him, leaving the Chancellor alone with her thoughts.

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#7

Press Wing of the Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
May 30th, 2022, 2:16 PM

The Chancellor's Briefing Room, like usual, was filled with the loud, dull hum of reporters and camera operators discussing recent events. Unusually, the briefing room was packed to the brim in the mid-afternoon, when the usual press briefings were in the morning or evening. This fact was most certainly not lost on the reporters, who were practically chomping at the bit to figure out what events had triggered this unusual briefing.

The noise died down to a whisper as Pascal Lefebvre, the Chancellor's Press Secretary, walked onto the raised platform, taking his standard place behind the podium. "Lien Apečmēda, Tut dei vus." (Good afternoon, all of you). "I am only here to preface this briefing, I will not be giving the actual briefing itself. Last Monday, in a speech to the Xiomeran Parliament, Empress Calhualyana announced the expulsion of thousands of foreign nationals and ethnic minorities, under the guise of removing, quote, 'Potential security threats.' These actions have uprooted thousands of ethnic Huenyans, Eirians, Lauchenoirians, and others, and have been denounced by International Rights Watch, Huenyan leaders, and others amongst the international community." He glanced to the side, seemingly waiting for some signal. "And now, to speak more on this matter, Chancellor Leah Stendē."

Murmurings filled the rooms as the Eirian Chancellor took the podium, dying down as soon as she arrived. "Good evening. As you all know, the refugee situation in Xiomera is most dire. According to our most recent estimates, over two thousand Eirian nationals are now forced to leave Xiomera, or risk penalties and seizure of their possessions. As of an hour ago, we have negotiated safe entry into Xiomera in order to transport Eirian citizens home. These safe exit points are located in the city of Tecuala, at the city's port and international airport. Personnel transport ships and transport planes have been dispatched to those locations, staffed by brave members of our Navy and Air Force. We look to bring our citizens home safely and efficiently, with minimal risk to our citizens and soldiers."

She glanced through the crowd of journalists and cameras, her expression illustrating the gravity of the situation. "But it's not just our citizens who are suffering. Tens of thousands of ethnic Huenyans also have been expelled, many of them flooding into the demilitarized 'Canal Zone'. These people have lost everything they've ever had, forced out of their homes and livelihoods. We estimate that hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of these refugees may seek Eirian asylum. The Ministry of Diplomacy has begun the issuing of special asylum visas to these refugees, due to the fact that they already hold claims to citizenship within the Union of Caxcanan States."

Her tone grew sympathetic, appealing to the sympathies of Eirian viewers everywhere. "These refugees will be arriving here with little to nothing, not knowing what will await them. And so, it is our duty to aid them in any way we can. While the Eirian government will do everything in its power to help those fleeing Calhualyana's tyrranical actions, our help can only do so much. However, there are ways that you can help. The same charities that selflessly helped Aurian refugees have already set up new funds to help desperate Huenyan refugees in this current situation. If you are able, please consider donating to one of these funds. Your help will be invaluable in the coming weeks and months, and your generosity could help save lives."

Her tone hardened significantly, becoming serious and commanding, and she switched from Eirian to English. "If you have family or friends in Xiomera, please, reach out to them immediately, and ensure that they get home. If you are currently in Xiomera, and are a foreign national, please, get out now. You may not get another opportunity. After all, who knows what Calhualyana will do next? She has already shown how ruthless and uncaring she can be to her own citizens! Please, if you can hear me, get out of Xiomera now, no matter if you are Huenyan, Eirian, or even Xiomeran, please, get out of the Empire's control, as quickly you can. Calhualyana doesn't care about you, or anyone, and she will stop at nothing to maintain her dictatorial control of Xiomera."

"These despicable acts only further illustrate the cruel ambition of the Xiomeran Empress and her loyal puppets. Any further action or human rights violations will result in immediate action." Stendē straightened her suit. "We are not sycophants to be pushed and kicked around. We are resilient, we are strong, and we are not afraid. Certain people should keep that in mind before their rash decisions are met with serious, irreversible consequences." She averted her gaze from the cameras and to the gathered journalists. "As we all have work to do, I will not be answering questions. Have a good afternoon."

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#8

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
October 12th, 2022, 5:11 PM

"Sea kašiet! Cas kucē poiva kašet un arb!"

Chancellor Leah Stendē gripped the report that had recently been placed on her desk, hurling various insults and obscenities at a certain Empress across a certain sea. "Cas… Lēta es repjunēca, nēonerca, ut un mōnste! Es rēon deša vel?!"

Julius Riekstins, the Chancellor's Chief of Staff, stood on the other side of the large oak desk, slightly stunned. In his several years of working with Stendē, he had never seen her as outwardly angry as she was now. "I'm as surprised as you are, Kurena. But we have to figure out how to respond. This situation will definitely get to the media quickly, and we should set the record straight before it does. We don't want wild speculation on an issue like this."

Stendē was silent for a few moments. "The public isn't my concern right now, Julius, I'm sorry to say. Calhualyana has crossed every single line imaginable. That bitch has to pay for what she's done." She glared at the papers with enough force to shatter glass. “We can’t just let this go unpunished.”

Riekstins adopted a bit of a sterner tone, his head tipped to the side. “And what exactly do you have in mind to ‘punish’ her? Respectfully, Madam Chancellor, most of our options would either be ineffective or end with a total disregard for the Jinyu Agreement. I’m sorry, but it’s hard for us to respond without rapidly escalating conflict in the region.”

“And why don’t you give that excuse to Cihitlina? Oh, wait, you can’t.” The Chancellor spoke through gritted teeth. “And Metotoa would probably try to dribble you like a basketball if we offered that weak excuse to him. Or at least, he’d try to, with the arm that doesn’t have serious nerve damage.” Her angry tone was fading quickly into remorse, and she turned away, staring at the wall. “They trusted us. They came here because we told them that they’d be safe here. That they could be happy, and live without fear. We… we failed them.”

Her Chief of Staff walked into her field of view, meeting her dejected gaze. “Hey. We didn’t fail them. We had no idea Calhualyana would do something like this. And… They both came here for a reason. If Cihitlina was given the choice between living forever under the Empress or living here for the short time that she did, I don’t think that she’d have changed her mind about defecting. Especially since Metotoa is still alive, and still has that freedom that they both lacked before they defected.”

Stendē sighed. “Sage advice, as always.” A look of concern flashes over her face. “As soon as we begin preparing for a briefing on this situation, I want security greatly increased on Metotoa. As soon as Calhualyana finds out that he’s still alive, he will be perpetually at risk. I want several layers of security on him at all times. Municipal Police, Divicōn Nacōnals dei Enketecōn, anything it takes. Hell, I’d have him stay here at the Manor if he wanted to! Plenty of bedrooms, plenty of security. Even if he doesn’t want to, I should probably call up the Generals of the Guard of the Republic as well and see if they can spare a couple Solar and Lunar agents. Calhualyana won’t get another chance at this.”

"Of course, I'll get those orders passed along right away." Riekstins cocked his head to the side. "I take it that you'll be working on your press release?"

The Chancellor nodded, the flashes of anger and sadness forging her expression into one of steely resolve. "Absolutely. It's time to make our message abundantly clear to her royal highness, the witch of Caxcana. These underhanded, vile actions will not go unpunished. They'll need the Angels to save their fucking souls when this is all over with."



Not a half hour later, the stage was set. The Manor's briefing room was packed full of journalists and live cameras, waiting on baited breath. They had been informed of an urgent situation developing, and that it would be headline material, however they were told nothing more. As Stendē took the podium, the gathered members of the press had their eyes locked on her every move. She took a deep breath, adjusted the mic, and began her speech.

"Good evening, everyone. I apologize for the short notice, however there is a situation developing that needs to be addressed." She paused, preparing herself for the information she would have to share. "Earlier today, two prominent asylees from Xiomera collapsed in public while seated in a cafe in New Riga. They were rushed to nearby Guillon Medical Center, where one of them was unfortunately pronounced dead despite the best efforts of medical personnel. According to toxicologists assigned to the case, the pair of asylees were subjected to a highly dangerous and previously unknown toxin, which was passed into the victims via physical exposure on their hands. We are unsure exactly how this poison was delivered, however, the information that we have makes one thing clear: This was a blatant assassination of asylum seekers."

"This vile act is inexcusable and purely disgusting. Previously, I had thought that certain moral lines were uncrossable in today's geopolitics, that certain things were sacred enough to not be touched. It appears I was mistaken." The distaste in the Chancellor's voice was palpable. "Asylum seekers should not have to fear being assassinated just because they wanted a better life. And the fact that athletes simply defecting would cause enough danger to Xiomera that they would take such a revolting action shows how truly fragile certain autocratic regimes are."

"But we don't have such weaknesses. We aren't crippled by dissent, or emigration. We don't have to hold our people hostage or kill anyone who isn't keeping their head down properly." Stendē's speaking rhythm was speeding up now, matching the overall tone of the speech. "Not are we the people who will, out of fear or blind loyalty, comply with a leader's every wish and whim. We don't bend, and we don't break. And certain leaders are about to discover just how unyielding our resolve is."

"I ask the honorable leaders of the world a question: Is this something you can tolerate? Can you ignore innocent lives being lost as a pathetic show of 'strength'? If you can't, then I implore you: Stand with us. Fight against this heinous threat, and together we will prevent barbaric acts like this from ever happening again." She stared directly at the camera as she delivered this manifesto. "Thank you all for your time."

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#9

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
December 2nd, 2022, 8:06 AM

"And I thought that bitch couldn't get more audacious."

Chancellor Leah Stendē sat behind her desk, surrounded by a number of aides. Her Chief of Staff, Julius Riekstins, seemed to be the only one unfazed by the Chancellor's blunt comments. "It makes sense, from a propaganda perspective. May as well exploit a potentially tragic event for political gain, right? It's page one of the dictatorial propaganda playbook. She'll try to isolate us from both our allies and our electorate with these terrible accusations. It's a disgustingly smart move."

Stendē gave a dry chuckle. "Disgustingly smart, that's a good way to put it. What else would we expect from the Empress by now?" The word Empress sounded more like an insult than a title in her tone. "We need to respond, that much is clear. But, before we do…" She turned her focus to Zoe Provost, her National Security Advisor. "How sure are we that this attack didn't come from one of our allies?"

Provost straightened her posture. "There are a few competing theories as to where these attackers came from. Several teams from EICA and the Lunar Guard have been monitoring regional intelligence activity. Unfortunately, those teams are also having to sort through boatloads of rumors and speculation, so… To put it concisely, we aren't sure at this time where the attackers came from."

The Chancellor sighed. "Brilliant. We need to defend ourselves and our allies publicly, and we don't even know if our allies are actually innocent in this regard. I swear, if it comes out that one of our allies had a hand in this…" She shook her head. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Pascal, how big of an effect has this attack had on our public support?"

Stendē's press secretary, Pascal Lefebvre, started to scratch the stubble on his chin. "Well, some more superstitious Eirians were already unnerved when Calhualyana had twins, given the ancient beliefs around twins. For us, this means that older and more religious Greens in particular will be a bit more apprehensive of the situation. Luckily, Calhualyana isn't exactly viewed as a beacon of honesty, so the accusation against us doesn't hold much weight with the voters. However, we should be much more careful with any future UCS policy announcements, as the accusations against our allies will make voters a bit more hesitant."

Stendē nodded. "That was a given. I'll let Minister Lancaster know." Realizing the ambiguity of that statement, she clarified with a smile. "Actually, I'll let both Lancasters know. UCS policy on Xiomera sits in an interesting place between both of their ministries. Hopefully sibling rivalry doesn't cause a jurisdictional nightmare…" With a glance between her Chief of Staff and Press Secretary, the Chancellor appeared to make a decision. "Pascal, I'll do the briefing on this, at least, the initial statement. You're going to get questions on our allies for the next few days, if not weeks, so I'm sorry in advance. Try to tuck and roll as best you can. Thank you all for the briefing, you can head back to work. I have a meeting with Senator Castillo in a moment, but as soon as it's done, please assemble the press in the briefing room. I'll have a few words prepared by then."



The assembled members of the press corps gradually took their seats, talking with their camera crews and fellow reporters in hushed tones. The discussion died down as Stendē took the podium, flanked by Lefebvre, who stood off to the side as Stendē spoke. "Good morning, everyone. Before your morning briefing, I would like to say a few words regarding recent events, in order to clear the air."

"Last night, Empress Calhualyana of Xiomera revealed to the world that there had been an assassination attempt on her two young children. This is, obviously, a horrifying and appalling act. However, the Empress crossed a line during her briefing by accusing Eiria and her allies of trying to kill her children. I would like to make one thing completely clear: This accusation is complete and utter nonsense. I am, frankly, disgusted by the willingness of Calhualyana to exploit an attack on her children for propaganda purposes."

"I understand the anger and hatred that Calhualyana must be feeling right now. I have a feeling that all parents would be in a similar boat if their children were attacked. However, using a tragic event to isolate Eiria from her allies is repulsive and completely inappropriate. I would like to send my condolences to the Empress and her husband, and to assure them that Eirian had no hand in this heinous act. The sins of the parents are not the sins of the children, and we are more than aware of that fact. If Calhualyana wishes to divide us further in the future, I suggest she find some other accusation to throw our way."

As soon as Stendē finished, the reporters shot out of their chair, eager to get her attention. Stendē called on a particularly vocal one in the second row. "Jacques Marin, from the Atlantis Courrier. Do we know definitively that the attack was not perpetrated by one of the nations that Calhualyana listed?"

"I can guarantee that Calhualyana's accusations were motivated by politics alone, not by real suspicion. We fully intend to stand by our allies against these charges. I will not let vindictive and dictatorial propaganda come between us and our closest friends abroad." Stendē scanned the rows of journalists, selecting another one. "Next?"

"Analēse Abolina, from Popjulī. Are there any clear suspects as to who may have orchestrated the assassination attempt?"

"At this point, it is too early in the investigation for me to speculate. We have some of our best and brightest intelligence officers monitoring the situation for any leads, however that is pretty much the limit of what I can say. If they make any major breakthroughs, we will announce them. Sorry for the vagueness, but trust in the knowledge that we will know more as time goes on." Stendē checked her watch. "I believe we have time for one more question. You, in the back."

"James dei Merei, National Spyglass. Calhualyana alluded to another assassination attempt made on her own life by one of the nations she listed. Do you know what she was referring to?"

Stendē put on her best diplomatic smile. "Calhualyana's wording was intentionally vague when referencing her supposed 'poisoning.' In my personal opinion, that accusation is another propaganda stunt. So, if you'd like to know more, I suggest that you go ask Calhualyana. Although, James, given how critical your network has been of her, I wouldn't trust those press credentials to protect you…" As the room erupted in polite laughter, Stendē maintained her smiling façade. "Well, thank you all for your time. Have a pleasant and productive day."

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#10

Julius Riekstins, Chief of Staff to Chancellor Stendē, waited patiently outside the Pečs Meeting Room in the working wing of the Chancellor’s Manor, occasionally checking his watch. The Chancellor was supposed to have left this (fairly mundane) meeting ten minutes earlier, but the meeting was apparently running long, which made Riekstins a touch nervous, given the recent activity in international politics.

After a few more minutes, Chancellor Stendē opened the door, giving one last polite smile and comment to the assembled officials before releasing a sigh once the door was closed. “Sorry, I was trying to get out sooner, but they just kept talking! Apparently, the education union leaders decided that a meeting with the Chancellor was a good time to sort out all of their ideological disputes. How’s the situation between Kerlile and Acadia?”

Riekstins handed her a briefing folder. “Simmering, for now. Acadian forces have dug in, and we haven’t seen any further escalation. From what we can tell from satellite images, Kerlian forces have stood down. It seems to have been some bizarre exercise, maybe to show Kerlile’s strength after the missile malfunction? I’m not sure why the exercise would’ve been so short, though. Regardless, the situation is holding steady right now.”

Stendē nodded. “Good. If there is any indication of escalation, contact the Acadians and Kerlians through diplomatic channels and offer to mediate. It may have little effect, but it will at least buy time to potentially defuse the situation.” She noticed her Chief of Staff’s expression and paused. “Something else is troubling you, what is it?”

“Well…” Riekstins handed her another folder. “WOE has staged a demonstration in Kōlenceda, outside the headquarters of Alansari Mining Co. Traffic has been blocked on a few major intersections, and counter-protesters are beginning to assemble on nearby streets. The local police have been dispatched to ensure that all involved remain peaceful and safe.”

“By WOE, you mean Watchdogs, right, not Warriors?” As Riekstins nodded, Stendē breathed a sigh of relief. “You should probably use the Eirian name for them next time, and not the English abbreviation. You’re gonna give me heart palpitations.” The pair started walking in the direction of their offices. “Out of all the nations in the world, they decide to protest here, in one of the most environmentally-conscious nations. I just met with the leaders of the environmental lobby last week, they couldn’t have brought up their concerns then?”

“Because they feel better screaming about evil politicians than actually meeting to discuss policy? Perhaps that’s cynical, but given that their sibling organization recently committed an act of terror in Lauchenoiria… There may be some truth to it. Although, I don’t know how much I can talk, given my stint of activism in university.”

“Fair, but give me one member of our staff who wasn’t a university activist or resistance member. It’s how we all got our start, after all. Even the original Eirian Green Coalition was founded in a coffeehouse on the campus of Vanaka University. I guess it’s in our nature to rebel a bit.” Stendē’s nostalgic smile slowly faded. “I’ll have our speechwriters work up a statement on the protest. We may not be able to invite them here, due to certain implications, however we can prompt them to give a manifesto. Let’s see what issues they want to bring up, and maybe we can find some sort of solution to take their attention off of Eiria for a while.”

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#11

(Joint Post with Xiomera)

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus

Chancellor Stendē was quickly growing tired of having to clean up messes among her allies. She sat at her desk, head buried in her hands, rubbing her temples as if that would get rid of the pounding migraine. Ugh. The recent news of undisclosed donations to a group of Eirian politicians from Milintican benefactors had hit her especially hard, and she had been bombarded with call after cal from various Senators who wanted to vent their concerns.

Why couldn't those Milintican Communists just have voiced their support for a candidate like everyone else?! It's really not that hard to follow our laws! With a sigh, Stendē picked up her call sheet, looking down the list of politicians who had left messages for her. I don't think I can handle sweet-talking another mid-level bureaucrat right now.

A thought occured to her, and she picked up the phone, waiting for her assistant to answer. "Could you please get me President Matōchmizalo of Milintica? I would like to have a few words with him if he's not too busy."

When the call came in, President Matōchmizalo was meeting with Prime Minister Tupai Tapihana. They had been discussing the very same funding scandal that Stendē was concerned about, so the timing of the call was serendipitous. In a way. The President sighed slightly before picking up the call. "Good morning madam Chancellor. This is Matōchmizalo. How are you doing today?"

"I am fine, Your Excellency, thank you for asking. Although, I have been inundated with calls from many politicians all across Eiria's political spectrum. And I believe you know what those calls are in regard to, seeing as you are likely dealing with the fallout just as much as we are." Stendē's tone was joking at the surface, but disguised a mask of layer of irritation.

"We are indeed, and I apologize for this incident," Matōchmizalo replied. "Arana and her upstart Communist party are being watched very closely. We intend to rein them in if they give us the proper excuse to do so. We have to be careful, however. We don't want to make a martyr out of her or let her claim it is a political prosecution. We need a solid case against her."

"We will be happy to share all the information we find as the investigation progresses. Unfortunately, some members of our own Communist faction are calling the allegations 'a vicious lie made up by the radical center,' so avoiding political martyrdom may be impossible at this point, at least on our end. You can trust that we will do everything we can to insulate you from the same fate." Stendē's layer of irritation had subsided, revealing solid determination. "Unfortunately, we also must deal with the fact that Calhualyana and our other opponents will use this opportunity to drive a wedge further into the UCS. As such, we should probably prepare a unified damage control plan to fight this."

"You have a very good point," Matōchmizalo replied. "I think we should consider issuing a joint statement denouncing such interference in each others' political systems and pledging to prevent it in the future. We can follow up on our end by passing legislation to bar our political parties from donating to parties abroad. That should hopefully stave off any fears anyone may have about the viability of the UCS."

"That sounds like a reasonable course of action. However, I'm afraid there's another issue that we may face soon." Stendē's tone was almost tired. "The Eirian politicians who accepted the undisclosed donations violated Article Five, Chapter Twenty-Three of our National Code. As a former prosecutor myself, I can tell you honestly that Eirian prosecutors dream about this kind of case. But that's not the issue. The issue is that assorted politicians, including major members of our governing coalition, are demanding that the Ministry of Justice subpoena Kauri Wetere, and if a cocky or ambitious prosecutor gets the case, they're likely going to go through with that request. Now, as much as I'd love to discuss the validity and legal standing of international subpoenas, such an unprecedented move would put the UCS in a very uncomfortable legal and political position."

"That would, and it also puts me in a similar position. Trying someone in Milintica is one thing, but sending one of our citizens to trial overseas is quite another." Matōchmizalo paused. "I could see us compelling Wetere to testify on the condition that she not be imprisoned in Eiria, however."

"That also sounds like a fair compromise. I doubt an Eirian court would be so bold to try her, so her testimony would be all that's necessary. The only people who would dispute this would be those who are trying to oppose or undermine the UCS, and we can handle those elements on our own." The Chancellor cleared her throat. "The thing is, how big of a problem would her being forced to testify cause for you?"

"It will cause a problem, but nothing I cannot handle," Matōchmizalo said confidently. "In fact, I wouldn't mind causing Neina and her upstart party some trouble."

Stendē chuckled. "I see. Well, thank you, Your Excellency, for your cooperation. I am glad that we could have a productive conversation on this matter, and that rogue elements won't divide our crucial alliance further. Funding scandals are never good for any party involved, so I'm hopeful that we can move on quickly from this. Are there any other concerns that you have, or things you'd wish to discuss?"

"Not at this time, but I thank you for the call. I am sure we can get this issue resolved quickly."

"Perfect. Have an excellent day, Mister President." Stendē hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. That's one fire put out. Now, let's get to work dealing with the seventy other problems that popped up today...

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#12

(Joint Post with Xiomera)

Undisclosed location, Monter Province, Eiria

"So, this is the bastard, eh?"

Luk Mēšel, Senior Officer of the EICA's Office of Counterintelligence Operations, asked as he stared through the one-way glass at the restrained man in the interrogation room. His voice was gruff and slightly muted. Despite the room's extensive soundproofing, no employee from the Ministry of Intelligence would ever trust it enough to shout state secrets near a potential foreign operative.

The agent at the desk nodded. "His name, allegedly is Raimonds Priede. He was born in Xiomera, and his Eirian parents put him on the Foreign Birth Registry. Local police found a hotel keycard on him while he was captured, and so one of our field agents raided the room soon after. They recovered I.D. materials, cash, and various other pocket litter, as well as a few tools that we suspect he used to make the explosive device." She placed a wad of Lunens and an Eirian Passport on the table. "We're still trying to track down any known associates or additional information."

Mēšel inspected the confiscated evidence, trying to touch them as little as possible. "Alright. Good work so far, keep me posted." He cleared his throat, side-eyeing the door. "Wish me luck. Dieuv, this is going to be horrible. If this guy is a Xiomeran operative after all, he'll be such a pain in the ass to interrogate."

With a final sigh, he walked through the door and took a seat at the metal table. His face was neutral and unrevealing. "Hello, Prisoner 10642. Enjoying our accomodations?"

Priede smiled in response. "They're not so bad. I've seen worse."

"Is that right? Well, we must not be trying hard enough, then." A humorless smile came over the Director's face. "We don't tend to give the usual prison amenities for foreign operatives and terrorists. Or failed terrorists, in your case. Foiled by a security guard and an engineer, I can't imagine how embarrasing that would be. How is the taser burn treating you, by the way?"

"Again, I've had worse," Priede shrugged. "As for being foiled, even the best at their job can have a bad day. Don't read too much into your security guard getting lucky."

"She got lucky? You tried to pick a fight with a trained Narasa* who had a taser. You're lucky that you got the first blow. I've had friends who have trained in competitive Nara, and I'll fully admit that they could beat me to a pulp, even on my best day." Mēšel grinned. "We're actually in the process of hiring your captor. With raw potential like that, imagine the edge she'd have with some training."

"Ah, but you also have no idea what training I have had. You are making some pretty grand assumptions. Besides, how much skill does it take to bring a taser to a fight?" Priede gave another nonchalant shrug.

"And yet, regardless of all of your posturing, you are still here, in handcuffs. Perhaps the Xiomeran Empire made a mistake in paying your salary. I'm sure they could've used that money in much better ways, after all."

"And who is to say they aren't?" Priede laughed. "I am sure you can read recent headlines in your country as well as anyone. You've been having a few spots of trouble lately, I imagine."

"No thanks to you, that's for certain." The Director leaned forward in his seat. "And that must kill you, eh? You've been indoctrinated for so long, you've had that hate burned into you. And finally, in your moment of glory... you failed. You failed everything you believed in."

"I have had other moments of glory. That shall have to suffice. Unless, of course, I live on to fight another day. And I probably will. After all, the government you represent is probably too weak to kill me." Yet another shrug. "You know, this country had a chance at greatness during Darrin's rule. You lot chose to squander that. Is it any wonder men such as myself despise you?"

Mēšel's face went blank. "...You're one of those guys, huh? You are still in the cult of personality centered around a deranged narcissist. Strange, I thought you would have been smarter than that." He leaned back. "Were you even in Eiria during Darrin's Regime? Or did you get the luxury of watching it all from the sidelines?"

"Oh, you should already know where I was during that time, if you know as much about me as you claim. But let's say...I was just an admirer of the General." Priede chuckled slightly. "And what you call cults of personality, others would simply call respect for strong leaders. Unlike, say, the ones running Eiria now."

"Stick your head in the sand all you'd like, Darrin was solely after power. He didn't give a shit about the country, or his supporters. The attention, the power, it was his drug. And he did everything he could to get it." Mēšel took his suit coat off and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing a web of scars, some shallow, others large and long. "You just have to realize that he lost. Eiria may not have executed anyone in almost a century, but if he takes one step outside that prison cell... Let's just say that he'd disappear mysteriously in record time. And no one would give a shit."

"Oh, I doubt that no one would care. But you're right, the past is the past. So as entertaining as it is to debate this with you, why don't you ask me what you really want to know?"

"Alright. How long have you been a Xiomeran spy, Prisoner 10642?"

"For about ten years now. Normally I wouldn't be so forthcoming, but I assume even you have been able to connect the dots by now. What's with the number, by the way? Not even using my name? I thought people from Eiria were supposed to be friendly," Priede smirked.

The Director tried to mask his surprise at the admission. "Again, we don't exactly extend the same courtesies to spies and terrorists that we do to our own people and guests."

An agent walked through the door behind Mēšel, handed him a folder, then walked out without even glancing at Priede. Mēšel looked the contents of the folder over, his green eyes occassionally darting back up to the prisoner across from him. "Have you ever been to New Riga, 10642? I hear that the snow up there this time of year makes the Nereus Sea look beautiful."

"I've been to many places in Eiria. For both business and pleasure." Priede smirked again; it wasn’t an outright admission, but it also wasn't a denial.

"Right, right. I went up there a couple years ago for the Olympiad, and wow, it was special. I got to see so more than just the skating, swimming and water polo that they show on television now and then. It really was incomparable." The Eirian counterintelligence agent kept his expression neutral. "Are you much of a sports fan, 10642?"

"I am not. Nor am I a huge fan of athletes." Priede's smirk grew slightly wider at that remark.

"I see." Mēšel cracked his knuckes. "I take it you know what I'm getting at?"

"I mean, you're not particularly subtle." Priede sighed. "Yes, I know where this is going."

"I'm sure you do, given what's in this dossier. It's amazing, what one mistake can reveal. You're looking at a life sentence now. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the Huenyans tried to assasinate you in your prison cell. Murdering civilian asylees isn't exactly something that earns you a lot of friends."

"A life sentence is just 365 opportunities a year to escape from one of your soft prisons. As for the Huenyans, those inferior fools do not frighten me."

"Inferior? Well, your precious employers lost a war against our 'weak' leaders and those 'inferior fools.' What does that say about them?"

"We did not lose. We chose to stop fighting. A choice that can always be reversed, when the most opportune moment arises. That is the thing you don't understand about Xiomera. We are infinitely patient. We didn't build an empire that stood for six centuries in the first place by being hasty. When the time is right, the Empress or her descendants will lead us and a new empire will arise." Priede uttered these words without a hint of anger or heat in his voice. The calm and matter-of-fact delivery of the statement was somehow more unsettling than it would have been if he had been angry. It spoke of an unshakable conviction.

"Wow. You just drink their poisonous words right up, don't you? You're the poster child for recruitment by dictators." The Director looked Priede dead in the eye. "Are there any further attacks planned, Prisoner 10642?"

"That part of the conversation is where I stop being forthcoming, except to say that of course there are. We will never stop attacking you as long as you continue to interfere with our agenda." Priede had stopped smiling. "As far as specific plans, however, the only response you will get from me is 'Priede, Raimonds, serial number II-89-7829'."

"Then I see no reason to continue this conversation." Mēšel stood, closing the folder and reaching for his suit jacket. He paused, and rolled up his right sleeve up to his bicep. A large scar lined the front of his arm. "I got this one fighting traitors like you during the civil war. Only, now, I'm merciful." He deftly slipped into the sleeves of his jacket, sneering. "This time, you won't get the easy out of being shot. Hope you enjoy the cold mountain ranges up here, because that's all you'll be seeing for a long time."

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#13

Grapevale, Kerlile

Lōra Vanaka slowly stepped down off of the plane's jetway, a pair of Solar Guards at her side. Her posse was eyed suspiciously by security and gate agents alike as they escorted her through Grapevale's airport. She shrugged it off, hiding her nerves behind a solid expression. Despite Kerlile being apprehensive at best to cooperation with Eiria, Vanaka was determined.

This was what she was best at, after all. Her colleagues at the Ministry of Diplomacy had nicknamed her "Zōbe Dern" ("Final Blade"), in reference to the type of light dagger that Eirian soldiers and spies would carry as a last resort. Her quick thinking and brutally realistic analysis had set her apart from many other young prodigies in the Ministry, and she had garnered a reputation for getting her colleagues out of tough spots. As such, it only made sense that she was the delegate chosen by Stendē and Alice Lancaster to make one  last-ditch effort at relations with Kerlile.

A set of Kerlian guards guided her and her security detail to a small line of cars with tinted windows, which she hesitantly climbed into. As she watched the major buildings of the Kerlian capital pass around her, her mind was plagued with concern. Is this pointless? Is this something that no one can pull off?

Upon arriving at the Council building, Vanaka and her guards were ushered into a waiting area. Every second felt like an eternity as she waited for her Kerlian hosts to grant her an audience.

The Council had been discussing the matter of the rogue Aurora Zichitla, who they expected was behind the disappearance of their small taskforce at Xomaxtli Hill, when a messenger arrived to inform them that the Eirian was here. Councillor Chiu quickly ordered all paper documentation stored securely and hidden from sight, to be replaced by copies of the edited agenda that they published online.

"And put away your homework, Rosemary," Chiu ordered the youngest Councillor, who had returned to a part-time course at university and who kept attempting to write essays in the middle of Council sessions. The young Arnott Councillor grumbled, but did indeed slip her university laptop into her bag and replace it with her work tablet, on which she brought up a blank document for note-taking.

After checking everything classified was hidden, and the gathered Councillors looked presentable, they gave the order for the Eirian representative to be allowed entry. They all turned to the door and waited expectantly.

Vanaka entered, making note of each assembled Councillor and their expressions. "Good afternoon, Councillors. I appreciate that you made time in your doubtlessly busy schedules to meet with me." She coughed into her arm, clearing her throat. "I have been sent here at the behest of Chancellor Stendē in order to see if something can still be done about relations between our nations."

"Please, take a seat," Councillor Chiu gestured to a guest chair that had been hastily added to the end of the table. It would be an intimidating position to sit in, with the others in a horseshoe facing it. This wasn't entirely done on purpose - the Chamber had not been designed for guests to attend meetings. The last few years, though, protocol had somewhat gone out the window.

The gathered Councillors had a variety of expressions. Arnott, Hart and Viallamando all looked fairly neutral, though the former of the trio had clear boredom behind her eyes already. Letitia Greenwood and Nirmala Patel had their eyes narrowed as if expecting a trap. Chiu herself was maintaining a polite poker face, while Georgiou looked welcoming and eager to hear what Vanaka had to say. However, Pierre was glaring at the Eirian with barely disguised malice.

"Thank you very much." To her credit, Vanaka remained stoic under the fierce gaze of Pierre and the watch of the other Council members. "If I may, before we begin, I must make something known. I have always thought of myself as more of an analyst than a diplomat, and a pragmatic analyst at that. I'm not here to..." She mentally searched through her list of English expressions. "...pay you lip service, as I believe is the phrase. I do not believe that it will be mindless flattery that will heal the divide between our nations. And while it may not be conventional diplomacy, I will try to be as honest and open as I can, and I hope that you all can give me the same courtesy."

Rosemary Arnott perked up at that, a mischievous grin slowly creeping across her face. "Of course," the young Arnott replied before any of the others could get a word in. "I assure you, if any of my colleagues use, say, any local expressions you don't understand, let me know and I'll be happy to translate them."

The other Councillors all suppressed the urge to glare at Rosemary. In a room of liars, promising honesty was the perfect form of rebellion. But they had to present a united front, so none of them could say a word.

"I appreciate that, Councillor." Vanaka sat forward in her chair. "All things considered, on our end, most factors are in favor of rebuilding a diplomatic connection. We have been thrilled to see the progress made in Kerlile, and in these turbulent times, we'd much rather have as many friends or acquaintances as we can get. However, there is one pressing issue, I'm afraid, and I trust you know what it is."

"Your... ow!" Pierre began, but was silenced by something unseen under the table, but judging by where Pauline glared, done by Patel.

"Xiomera," Chiu said calmly. "The reason you broke off relations in the first place. For, after all, that was your choice. We are, of course, open to dialogue - but not to blackmail. If your intention here is to threaten us if we do not break our relationship with Xiomera, you will fail."

"You did ask for honesty," Pierre smirked, pleased with Chiu's response.

"Of course. And please believe me, it is not my intention to blackmail or threaten you. What Calhualyana put into action is likely going to affect Kerlile regardless if Eiria interferes. After all, once evidence of Xiomera's support for the Golden Blade is exposed, the Acadians certainly won't stand idly by, and we don't want to see Kerlile caught in the crossfire."

The Eirian looked towards Chiu and Pierre. "And so, we are willing to help you, as a show of good faith. We can provide assistance in disentangling yourself from Xiomera, or helping mitigate Acadian fury. We do not expect trust or loyalty, as those things were in short supply even when we had embassies. All we request is respect and neutrality."

"If Councillor Hale was here, she would say that evidence of such was already exposed," Rosemary Arnott shrugged, to a glare from several of the others. "Hey, don't look at me, I'm just the messenger. The Lauchenoirians claimed to have proof ages ago; and we promised honesty."

"Disentanglement implies we are 'tangled' in the first place," Pierre snapped, narrowing her eyes. "We chose to work with Xiomera; they did not colonise us, or entrap us, and they do not control us. And if you wish for us to respect you, you can start by respecting us and our families."

"Enough, both of you," Chiu sighed wearily. Goddess, could they not present a united front for once, for longer than ten seconds!? The elderly Councillor shook her head a few times and then turned back to their Eirian guest. "We are not involved in the conflict between Xiomera and Huenya. We maintain diplomatic relations with both parties."

"While that may be true, that is not what I am referring to." Vanaka gave Pierre a slight side-eye before continuing. "I'm afraid that the currently operational Xiomeran military base will likely be considered 'entanglement' or other terms not conducive to neutrality. And I am well aware that said base was not forced upon you, however that is not as relevant to the conversation. You may claim neutrality or non-involvement, but the military base on your soil may appear externally like support, or at very least, collusion. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I doubt that that's what you all want to be perceived."

"How curious," Councillor Patel piped up. "By that logic, Sanctaria is also entangled, with their military base in Huenya. But Xiomera would not be foolish enough to attack them. Should the allies of Huenya attack us for the mere leasing of land to another nation, that would be a dramatic departure from the present established order. Do you dispute the existence of Sanctaria's neutrality also?"

Vanaka was quick on her toes, thinking up a reply in seconds. "I believe that the situation with Xiomera and Huenya is quickly becoming one of hypotheticals and deterrence, in which leaders with the luxury of neutrality are beginning to hint at where they would show their support, should a full-scale war arise. Eiria, unfortunately, has never had the luxury of neutrality, which is exactly why we want to help extend it to you, before it is too late." The Eirian resisted the urge to smirk. "And, although I don't want to be persistent, the lack of reply to the final of my previous points suggests that I am not the first to cast doubt on the actions of Xiomera to this Council."

"We do not wish to be involved in, or perceived to be involved in, any conflict," Chiu confirmed."However, the world will believe what it will about us, regardless of truth. That we have learned, time and time again. We have little control over what the patria... the wider world believes."

"Let's hear her out," Rosemary Arnott piped up. "I'm texting Mother, she ought to be here. You know she was never in favour of the Xio..."

"Silence, child!" Patel snapped, before Rosemary could finish. "Would you like to tell the Eirian every single personal piece of information about your family!?"

"Maybe," Arnott retorted, grinning. "Shall I tell her how the missile crisis actually escalated?"

"Goddess," Hart growled, "save us from the stupidity of youth."

"Enough, all of you!" Chiu hissed. "Our apologies, Madame Vanaka. Several of my colleagues had a drinks reception this morning with some very strong champagne. Perhaps we ought to have a recess to allow them to compose themselves, and for us to contact President Arnott."

"Of course. I would love to have another meeting with President Arnott involved, if possible." An idea sprang to Vanaka's mind, and her eyes had a wicked glint. "My apologies, I just realized that I am being quite rude right now! I have gone on and on about the circumstances of our offer without even considering asking you all. So, before we adjourn, may I ask what Kerlile would require in order to begin normalizing relations?" The diplomat glanced around the horseshoe-shaped table. "I would like to hear a variety of perspectives on this. And while President Arnott may not be here, I'm sure that Councillor Arnott-" She nodded at Rosemary. "-would be more than able to give at least a basic overview of her mother's position."

Rosemary smiled nervously, wishing she'd paid more attention in the family strategy meetings. Her teasing of the Patels aside, she did not truly want to put her foot in it, she just got carried away sometimes. She looked to Chiu for guidance.

"Well, I suppose we can give you a brief summary of our positions," Chiu said, her smile not meeting her eyes. "Councillors, do go ahead."

"You can start by giving me my daughter back," Pierre chimed in, still scowling.

"Actually, this is a fantastic opportunity," Georgiou said eagerly. "Okay, so with the Xiomeran military base we are in something of a bind, you understand. Any attempt to remove the base from Kerlile would likely provoke a war we cannot win, and to be blunt we do not want to fight it even if we could. But if you're offering us the opportunity to expand our trade and normalise relations with a number of democratic states then we would totally..."

"Nothing you can offer us would prevent what Georgiou just said," Patel interrupted, speaking loudly but calmly. "We do not want a war on Kerlian soil. You will not give us anything with a Xiomeran base here. Therefore we are at an impasse."

"You are presuming that Xiomera is in any sort of position to invade Kerlile at the moment. It would be a logistical nightmare, and Calhualyana will already have enough controversy thrown at her by LIDUN. I doubt she would invade a nation that leaned neutral, especially if you seek to maintain trade and diplomacy with them." Vanaga sat more rigidly upright. "Xiomera is attempting to do so many things at once, military-wise. While the UCS and many of our allies are stretched thin, so are the Xiomerans. Attempting a land war in Hesperida would leave them too vulnerable, in my opinion, and Calhualyana would realize this."

"But you cannot give us a guarantee that they will not," Letitia Greenwood pointed out. "Only probabilities. Assuming that we even want to abandon Xiomera. I will grant you that certain of our number are rather keen on courting you and your fellow liberal democracies, but do not presume that we are all so keen on acquiescing to a system of government invented by males."

"Speaking of democracy, with Hale in Lauchenoiria, there are eight of us present," Pierre informed Vanaka. "Suppose we vote on your proposal here, to tell the Xiomerans to leave in exchange for vague promises of security and trade. Nothing you say will sway the votes of three of our number. You need five. Say you get the other four. You still need me. And I will not believe a word you say if you do not give me my daughter back."

"As for your comments on democracy, Councillor Greenwood, I would like to point out that Eiria's system of democracy was pioneered by both men and women. And I admit that in the past, we have been too eager to demand reform from this council. Given our recent history, we still have some, shall we say, political trauma surrounding backsliding and stricter governance. I will grant that must learn that our system of democracy may not work for Kerlile, especially at the moment."

The Eirian turned her gaze towards Pierre, donning a sympathetic expression. "As for the matter of your daughter, Councillor, I'm afraid it's not as simple as 'giving her back.' According to the briefing I was given on the situation, due to Camille's stay in Kerlian 'Alternate Education' programs, she qualifies for what's called an Ozolina visa. Essentially, she has a better claim to asylum than the Robinsons do. Repatriation of an Ozo Visa recipient is highly illegal, so the only way that Camille may return to Kerlile is through her own volition."

"However, all is not lost. I may be able to arrange a meeting for you with your daughter, one on one. And then, a meeting with Natasha Robinson. We can help lay the groundwork, but in the end, it would be your daughter's choice. My apologies that we could not assist more, but that would be the best that we can do under these circumstances."

Pauline Pierre turned to glare daggers at Patel, who she blamed for the entire Alt-Ed debacle. It took a lot of her inner strength to prevent herself from making some ill-advised comment about the Patels, as Rosemary had seemed so intent on doing. Instead, Pierre turned back to the Eirian visitor.

"I have been informaed that I am not welcome in your country - nor are two of my daughters. And my last daughter, as you may have heard, is presently in the hospital after someone attempted to burn down our Archive. I would be willing to have a meeting, but how do you intend to arrange this?"

Chiu was relieved that Pierre seemed to be engaging in at least somewhat good faith. It was better than they'd been doing for most of the meeting, and if they focused on Camille for a while then it gave her and the others some time to consider the Xiomeran matter in more detail.

"In my opinion, to avoid jurisdictional and legal nightmares, secure digital meetings would probably be best. My condolences and best wishes to Madame Olivia, and my sincerest apologies for the trespassing scenario. Legally, the hands of EICA were tied by Carmen Robinson, but I admit that there were ways in which it may have been handled better. It was very bad timing all around, I'm afraid. Nevertheless, would you be open to digital meetings, at least to start?"

"I distrust the security of most such platforms," Pierre said, "but I am open to this as a beginning. Thank you for your apology; I do understand that Carmen is somewhat... easily alarmed, these days. I do not entirely blame her after what happened in Zongongia to poor Natasha."

"Exactly." Vanaka subconsciously glanced behind her. "If we are speaking off of the record, many of us at the Ministry of Diplomacy were both stunned and a little startled at the situation, from the asylum to the extradition requests. It appalls me."

"If we are speaking off the record," Chiu added, "it appalled us too. Regardless of what happened between this Council and the Robinsons in the past, we would not wish what happened to Natasha on anyone, not even our worst enemies. Indeed... no, perhaps I should not say. But do keep your eyes on the news in a few days' time."

"Mother says she's on her way," Rosemary piped up, tapping on her phone and not looking up.

"Noted. I will search the headlines, then." After nodding at Chiu, Vanaka turned her attention to Rosemary. "Thank you for the update, Councillor Arnott. I do appreciate that this discussion could take place in good faith. I may be optimistic, but it seems like a good sign." She paused, waiting for any Councillor's reply.

A quiet had fallen over the room as several Councillors turned away to look at phones, or take notes. Greenwood and Patel were whispering to each other, eyeing Vanaka distrustfully. A couple got up and left the room, seeming to take the quiet as a sign that the aforementioned recess had been re-added to the agenda. Georgiou got up and took Viallamando's vacated seat, closest to Vanaka.

"So," she said quietly, so that only the Eirian - and possibly Rosemary, though the young Councillor was now playing a game on her phone - could hear. "Pierre was not lying when she said it will be very difficult for you to convince the others. If it was up to me, I'd take your offer in a heartbeat, but most of the others will either be actively opposed... or too frightened to try."

"I understand. And I do appreciate your support." Vanaka looked back at the whispering councillors before continuing. "It'll be a long journey towards restoring relations, if it's even possible. But if it is possible, even if it is difficult, we would be foolish not to try our hardest."

"I agree, but you have to understand..." Georgiou began.

"You're in my seat," Viallamando pointed out upon her return. "Move."

Georgiou gave Vanaka a brief smile before standing up and moving back to her own assigned place around the table. Viallamando herself turned instead and studied the Eirian openly, looking her up and down. "Tell me," she asked. "What do you think of the Lauchenoirians?"

Vanaka remained stoic as the Kerlian examined her. "Well, what exactly do you want to know about my thoughts on Lauchenoirians? What I think of their recent history, their current government, certain politicians in particular? I'm not sure I understand what you want to know, I'm afraid."

"My ancestors, prior to the formation of Kerlile, were Aelurians. During the foundation of the Lauchenoirian state, most of my great-grandmother's family was killed," Viallamando revealed, watching Vanaka for a reaction.

The Eirian analyst tilted her head slightly as she spoke. "I'm sorry to hear that. And I am fully capable of criticizing other nations about their historical actions, including Lauchenoiria. If I may ask, Councillor, respectfully, what point are you trying to make? What would you like to know?"

"I'm not sure," Viallamando said truthfully. She did not know what had compelled her to ask the question. "I just wondered."

At that moment, President Arnott arrived and the Councillors quickly took their own seats once more. Rebecca Arnott turned to the Eirian. "My sincere apologies, I was in another meeting. Welcome to Kerlile."

"No worries at all, Madam President. Thank you for meeting with me." Vanaka said, her tone a touch more friendly than it had been with the rest of the Council. "Let's see where we left off... Ah, yes. A few Councillors were telling me what they would need from Eiria in order to begin to normalize relations."

"Yes, my daughter says there has been quite the discussion," the President replied, sharply glancing at the Councillors. "To answer your question, however, first I would have to know exactly what you are asking us to do here. We would be willing to resume normal diplomatic relations tomorrow; but I believe it is Eiria who has conditions over such?"

"It's true that we do have a condition, but given the current geopolitical situation, in my opinion, it would've been beneficial for you to consider it regardless." Vanaka nodded to Pierre. "And, as I understand it, members of the Council do have some conditions for Eiria. So, I just wanted to put all the cards on the table, so to speak."

"Your one condition being the Xiomeran military base," Rebecca Arnott said, more of a confirmation than a question.

"Of course. That is truly the one circumstance that we cannot justify, for obvious reasons" She quipped. "Now, I must ask if you think your initial reasons to have a Xiomeran base on your soil are justified now and can be justified in the future, given the flagrant actions of Xiomera's Empress."

President Arnott sighed and began tapping her fingers on the table slightly. Several Councillors shifted awkwardly in their seats. A silence fell for a few moments, before the President spoke again. "I do not know what you think our reasons are or were, but I do think that you and your superiors in Eiria lack a full understanding of our position here."

"On the contrary, I believe that I understand the situation better than you would expect, hence why I am able to suggest these... bolder actions." Vanaka examined the expressions of the President and the Councillor on either side of her. "I know that the future will be rough, but I implore you to think of the alternative. Should the current situation in Huenya escalate to all-out war, and should other democratic nations intervene, you will have to deal with the implication of having a primary target on your soil."

She donned a more sympathetic expression. "You all know better than anyone that the leaders of the world rarely give Kerlile the benefit of doubt. When the angel of justice comes for Calhualyana because of her actions, you will be caught in the crossfire if you don't act now."

"I understand that you fear Xiomeran retaliation, but I say, in no uncertain terms, that Calhualyana is not in a position to fight a war on another continent. Not as she's interfering more in Huenya. Besides, she will already face so much backlash for her actions in Auria and Huenya. Attacking a nation that is not even in Caxcana would trigger too much international hatred. After all, Sanctarian politicians are already talking about removing their constitutional neutrality clause. Calhualyana would not invade Kerlile for removing their military base. She's smart enough to know that the base isn't her biggest problem."

"This is not about fearing Xiomeran retaliation," President Arnott replied, sighing. At least, not entirely, she thought but did not voice. "As you say, the world rarely gives Kerlile the benefit of the doubt. Indeed, the world rarely gives Kerlile space to breathe. Do you truly believe that the threats to Kerlile, that led us to invite the Xiomerans to build a base to assist us with our defence, have abated? Do you truly believe that nobody would consider taking advantage were we to close their base?"

"If I may ask, where exactly are your concerns? If you don't fear Xiomeran retaliation, who do you fear will attack you?" Vanaka asked, head tilted.

Arnott stared for a few seconds, as if trying to ascertain if the Eirian was being serious. "Who do we fear? Everyone, of course! There are any number of nations who could choose to attack us. Members of the Lauchenoirian Parliament regularly call for such a measure. The mad King of Zargothrax is not known for his friendliness towards women - and he declared war on another country for bizarre reasons merely two months ago. Numerous countries discussed 'intervention' during the Aurora affair. Do you truly not understand what we fear? We fear the world, Madame Vanaka. Because the world has given us reason to."

"With all due respect, I don't believe the situation is as bad as you think. Lauchenoiria couldn't even intervene in Huenya right now if they wanted to, especially not this close to election season. So, an invasion is out of the question for them. Given that the Thraxian war that you were referring to was fought with animals, I doubt that you have as big of a problem there, unless you have allergies. The relationship that is most at risk currently, in my view, is Greater Acadia, specifically because of the Xiomeran base on your soil."

Vanaka carefully examined the expressions of each Councillor. "I don't mean to diminish Kerlile's issues, please don't misunderstand. But I don't believe that the situation is as bad as you think. At least, not bad enough to make a detachment from Xiomera impossible."

"In the hypothetical scenario where we do as you ask, and then we are attacked, would you come to our aid? What if it was one of your democratic allies attacking us? Could you guarantee our safety?" Councillor Nirmala Patel piped up. "For I do not think you can, as that would open you to criticism from your domestic population and may well lose your current government an election. Indeed, when you next have an election and the government changes, can you honestly tell us that any guarantees would stick?"

"Regardless of the PR implications, you can trust that Eiria would intervene." Vanaka sighed. "While it is true that many Eirians are tired of war, we are also a pragmatic people. A Xiomeran foothold in Hesperida poses a gigantic risk for both us and our allies, and the Chancellor is willing to do whatever it takes to prevent any sort of Xiomeran advantage. Besides, I believe that an Eirian intervention would sufficiently prevent any sort of invasion by our democratic allies, even if they were to attack, which I highly doubt." The Eirian stared down Councillor Patel. "If I may be honest, Councillor, you seem to underestimate how much we are willing to do to level the playing field between us and Xiomera."

"Well," President Arnott said before Patel could reply. "You have certainly given us something to think about and discuss. Please, feel free to remain in Grapevale for a few days. We will need to discuss this in private, I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, Your Excellency. I appreciate that you all were kind enough to listen to me. I hope we can mend this divide, for the sake of both of our nations." As Vanaka stood, she gave a slight bow to both sides of the table. "And if you have any questions, requests, or new terms to propose, I will be happy to hear them. Thank you for your hospitality."

The Council watched as President Arnott escorted Vanaka out of the room. Once the door had clicked closed behind the pair, the Councillors looked at each other, and then all at once began to talk over each other, as usual.

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#14

Geminus, Eiria
8:03 PM

The Kīera Theater was the third biggest theater in Eiria, and by far the most famous outside of the Theater District of Atlantis. A huge swath of seats lined the center floor, and all sides of the theater had two additional levels of private boxes and their attached balcony seats. Ornate murals and light fixtures lined every inch of open wall space, providing a welcome distraction for anyone not so keen on watching whatever performance was on that night. However, that level of apathy was not particularly common, as the Kīera’s schedule was almost always packed full of talented acts from around the world.

However, in political circles, all of those traits were not what made the theater so famous (or infamous). The thing that politicians would most recognize the Kīera for was the third floor stage right box, more commonly known as (Box) 3RA. In Eiria, there is a long-standing tradition of talking politics during stage performances. And thanks to the owners of the Kīera keeping Box 3RA perpetually reserved for politicians and dignitaries, the box served as the setting for all kinds of Eirian governmental decisions, from monumental to miniscule. Outside of the Senate and the Chancellor’s Manor, there was truly no better place to negotiate than the Kīera.



Chancellor Leah Stendē delicately closed the door to the private box behind her, giving a nod to the Solar Guard agent stationed on the inside of the door. Inside, a variety of Senators, Ministers, and other public servants were engaged in hushed conversations, only stopping briefly to give Stendē respectful bows before continuing to chat. She straightened her suit Halar before grabbing a glass of champagne from the snack and drink bar. Scanning the faces of the various officials, she quickly spotted her target, a woman in a purple dress glancing through the heavy curtain at the orchestra and choir below.

Stendē grabbed a second glass of champagne and brought it to the woman, who took it with a slight smile. “Your Excellency. It's been a while.” Senator Luisa Fontān commented, closing the curtain with her hand.

“Indeed it has. I believe the last time was the party policy breakfast.” The Chancellor replied to her fellow Green Party politician. “The one with the… shall we say ‘interestingly prepared’ eggs?”

“Ahh, yes, I remember. Whatever cook made those should probably talk to a culinary instructor. Or a therapist.” Fontān quipped. “But I take it you're not just here for the music and champagne, or the ever so interesting company. You want to talk business, and I have a hunch I know what exactly you have in mind.”

Stendē’s polite smile faded somewhat. “Yes, I think you do. You sit on the Committee of Culture, Senator, specifically on the National Museum subcommittee. Recently, a proposal was brought before the subcommittee regarding the funding of a new exhibit at the West Geminus Museum of Eirian History. The exhibit was titled ‘Caxcanan Tensions: The Roots of a Union.’ Do you remember it?”

Fontān sipped her champagne, eyes drifting towards the curtain. “I believe I do, although there are so many exhibits that we've had to approve across the nation that it's quite difficult to keep track of them all. History, while fascinating, has never been my specialty. I prefer the study of more current and practical events.”

The Chancellor resisted the urge to grimace or grit her teeth. Stop playing coy, Luisa. You know what I mean. “An initial whip count shows a surprising amount of Coalition no votes. The Formido and FMC will vote against it out of spite, and the Progressives would usually be with us on this, but with a shaky ground, they'll vote against just to show their voters that they beat us on something. So, you and a handful of others are endangering this exhibit. Forgive me, but I believe that myself and the people of this country deserve to know why.”

“Well, it's a lot of money for an exhibit that will essentially be a pointless reminder of a reality that we are all used to by now. Similar exhibits have been approved in other museums in Geminus, Nordjura, Serenity, and other cities. Besides, given the current geopolitical climate, no one needs a sermon on how strained Caxcana is. Funding art pieces, lectures, and exhibit fees seems a bit pointless when so many other exhibits and museums exist that have the same theme.”

Stendē gave a harsh laugh. “You know what, I almost would've believed that argument. However, your committee voting record from last year indicates otherwise, given that you voted to support the Unity Grant program for expert lectures and presentations on Caxcanan history and the formation of the Union. So, why the change of heart?” Her expression had changed from polite curiosity to barely concealed glowering. “What are you doing, Senator? We can get this passed the Senate with or without your antics, so why are you asking for a fight?”

Fontān pursed her lips. “Well, Your Excellency, our Coalition is facing a rough election season. While our party may not be as desperate as those on the Moderate Left, we are still facing challenges. I'm in the fourth seat in my Kōrtair, and both the ModLefts and the Progressives have been trying to poach my seat. I'd like to see you try to run as a Green in the Jurmala 2nd. And I suppose that I have you and your policies to thank for some of the struggle.”

At this point, the Chancellor’s glare could cut glass. “Is that so? Well, I invite you to be more involved in party policy, if what we've gotten done is causing you issues.” Her slightly loud tone had garnered a few glances from the rest of the politicians in the box, so Stendē began to whisper. “And what in the name of the Republic are you suggesting that I do about your situation?”

“Nothing extreme, of course. I wouldn't get too angry over it.” The Senator finally met Stendē's gaze. “Just a matched fundraiser*. My campaign has been struggling to get the attention of the voters, and so it would be nice to have a bigger budget for ads. We can work out the specifics of party contribution later.”

The Chancellor’s silence spoke volumes as she resisted the urge to laugh. “You can't possibly be serious. You're holding up the funding of a major exhibit so you can blackmail us for a slice of our campaign war chest. Disgraceful. But regardless of your efforts, we can still get the bill through the Senate. Thank the Angels for bureaucratic safeguards.” She shook her head, taking a brief peek out the curtain towards the stage. “Now I see why Lanćaster preferred to get a private box for these events, to avoid this house of legal corruption.”

Fontān took on a vicious smile. “And you know better than anyone that Lanćaster’s policies, as successful as they were, suffered hits in the Senate due to his refusal to meet us halfway. And you claim to be able to get the bill through, but we both know that putting either your or Morrin’s seal** on anything calls attention to the fact that you couldn't get it through the subcommittee. And you really can't risk that going into an election. Any sign that your precious coalition is breaking is a death sentence for voter turnout.”

Stendē tightened the belt of her Halar, glaring at the floor. “Thank you, Senator, for being a stain on the history of Eirian democracy. Forget asking for anything from myself or the party again. You won't get away with this, I promise you.”

The Eirian head of state walked through the part in the curtain onto the balcony, leaving Fontān to ponder that parting remark.


*Eirian campaign finance laws are notoriously strict. Among other restrictions, any large donations from rich donors, PACs, etc have to equal small money donations raised in fundraisers, merchandise sales, and other efforts. As such, “matched fundraisers,” where larger donors agree to match whatever is raised, are quite common, as they are an easy way to balance the books.

**By attaching their seal to a bill, the Chancellor can lift a bill out of committee and force a full Senate vote. Likewise, the Vice Chancellor can take a bill out of a subcommittee and force a committee vote.

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#15

Blue Meeting Room, Senate Hall, Geminus

“You can’t be serious.”

Chancellor Stendē took off her glasses and wiped them on her sleeve, glancing at the three Senators sitting across from her. “You are seriously suggesting dropping the whole Moderate Right Party from the coalition when we are going into an election where we are facing losses. What could go wrong?” She pointedly glanced towards two of her own coalition partners, ignoring the non-inscrit on her right. “I’d be lying if you were the first people to bring this idea up, but no one else would even consider it two months out from the election. How would this be remotely a good idea?”

Senator Markus Karlivič, a shorter, gray-haired Green from Jurmala, watched the Chancellor with a stony expression. “Well, we need a strong showing. Our base has become stagnant after years and years of your and Lanćaster’s leadership. They're turned off by year after year of the same leadership, and even more hesitant after your more recent concessions to the right.”

“I wouldn't call respecting the opinion of our coalition partners concessions, necessarily. You make it sound like they're holding us hostage.” Stendē quipped with a raised eyebrow. “Besides, what would you propose as an alternative? If we leave the ModRights behind, the Centrists would get nervous, and we’d have defections. We'd sign away whatever majority we'd have left. And besides, it's not like we can ally with the Progressives any time soon. You should know that more than anyone, Markus, given how many new wave farmers you have in your district. You'd lose your seat in a flash.” She turned to Senator Aleks Dumart, a ModLeft from Krastalen Province. “And it's not like you're in a much better position, Senator Dumart. The Krastalen 6th is pretty evenly divided between left and right, and you're in the hot seat on the border. Do you want to incense the moderate right in your Kōrtair?”

Dumart, a timid freshman Senator, glanced downwards at the table. “No, not particularly. But I also don't want them taking credit for my work, nor do I want to isolate my voters so that the Progressives can poach my seat. I'm just defending my interests, Kurena.”

“Defending your interests usually doesn't entail risking your own governing majority. And you'd be facing pushes from both the left and the right going into this election anyways. Ruining our chances of governing again will not change that.” With that admonishment, she looked at the final Senator at the table. “I wish that I was surprised that you were here, but you've always had a unique political strategy, to say the least. You're claiming to represent the Coalition when you have barely aligned yourself with us?”

Alān Jōvile, an independent member of the Merēta Pirate Party, gave his Chancellor a small smirk. “I'm not here to represent anyone but myself. I just wanted to give you a little bit of advice. Besides, you know I'm running for mayor back home, so you can trust that I am coming here honestly.” His grin gave the impression that he would have his feet up on the table if it didn't ruffle his well-tailored halar. “Do you really want to stand by and let your ‘coalition partners’ give boons to big businesses at the expense of every independent business venture in Eiria?”

“I don't think that that is what they are trying to do, Jōvile. And besides, do you really want to be promoting such drastic changes to patent law as our economy is beginning to stagnate?”

“Tell me, Chancellor, when would be a convenient time? I seem to recall us having multiple conversations about copyright over the past two years, and you always brushed me off. But that is beside the point. If I can't get what the country needs now,” His eyes drifted to the other two Senators,“...then I at least will stop the bleeding.’

The Chancellor pursed her lips, but maintained an adequately diplomatic facade. “I am sorry if you feel like your issues are not being heard. But that is no excuse to risk handing the keys of the Manor over to someone who will undo all of the progress that we've made.” She stood, addressing all three Senators. “I'm sorry, Kurenei. I have a cabinet meeting that I can't miss.”

As she left, her Solar Guard contingent followed, leaving the three men alone.

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#16

Chancellor's Manor, Geminus
June 10th, 2024, 10:26 AM

“Atlauyat lei Krōnis brulet.”

Chancellor Stendē's voice, usually enthusiastic and professional, was as cold as the winter breeze that was hitting the bulletproof glass that lined the ornate study. Chief of Staff Riekstins and Security Advisor Prōvost sat in a pair of chairs in front of their boss’ imposing desk, their faces attentive and characteristically stoic. Prōvost spoke up first. “Osvald has definitely crossed every line here. Even his people think so. But I hesitate to say that we should do anything. The people will make him pay the price for this.”

“The people are fighting centuries of precedent and tradition. A few riots and occupations might not do the trick. They may need a bit of a push,” Riekstins replied. “I'm not suggesting that we summon the Council of Nine, but we can still act without being directly involved.”

Stendē pursed her lips. “You suggest that we… What is the English phrase? ‘Stir the pot'?”

Riekstins nodded, a certain glint in his eye. “It won't take much. The people are already calling for the abolition of the Monarchy. All we have to do is encourage them to do it themselves.”

Stendē looked towards Prōvost expectantly. “Do you agree with Julius' analysis?”

She thought for a moment. “Yes. With a combination of social media manipulation and the promotion of influential anti-monarchists, we could boost the movements. We could also start funneling resources to some of these movements, but as that leaves a greater trail, I suggest that we only do that as a last resort.” Her expression darkened. “But I also must advise caution. Authoritarian or plutocratic elements may take advantage of this situation in order to promote their interests in Zongongia. We need to be careful. This type of unrest can be easily exploited.”

“In that case, we must ensure that our messaging remains strictly egalitarian.” The Chancellor looked back at her Chief of Staff. “I’ll need to meet with Minister Ainina today, as soon as possible.”

The National Security Advisor raised a finger. “Before we go through with this, we also should discuss the diplomatic implications. If our involvement was exposed, our allies in Auria could get nervous.”

“I hope they will be able to understand the difference. After all, Auria is causing no problems for us right now.”

“Well, about that…”

Both the Chancellor and the Chief of Staff looked at her in surprise.

“A few Aurian gossip columns have reported that Prince Mathēu missed a few of his scheduled commitments. Normally, I wouldn't trust those kinds of outlets for reliable intelligence, but around a half hour ago, we received a communication from a Department of Investigation and Enforcement agent. He is currently investigating organized crime in Serenity Province, and is undercover with a RoJi organization. He believes that his employers manufactured a new identity for Mathēu and that the Prince is currently living in a coastal town in southern Eiria.”

Stendē was speechless for a few moments. “An Aurian prince has fled his homeland in secret and is living as a commoner in Eiria?” She asked incredulously. “Well, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. Let’s see if we can reach out to him and hear his reasons. We could get him into the Cloaked Life program, instead of him having to resort to forgery and other things only the water should know.”

She stood, buttoning her suit jacket. “Thank you both for your counsel. Let's get to work.”

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#17

(Written jointly with Laeral)

Rilos, Laeral

Mathias Jansons pushed open the door into the brand-new Laeralian skating facility, waving a pass to an attendant at the counter. The Eirian figure skater had a large bag slung across his shoulder that he routinely adjusted as he walked towards the half wall of the nearby rink. On the ice was an easily recognizable face who was skating by his lonesome. Jansons gave a bit of a wave, being careful to not break the skater's concentration abruptly.

Kerry Chan, wearing a tight-fitting black jumpsuit, skated smoothly to a stop at the edge of the rink before stepping off the ice. "Mathias Jansons?" he said, his expression surprised. "I knew there were a group of Eirians coming to visit today—but I had no idea we'd be graced with your presence. I would've come to meet you! It's been too long, we only got to exchange a few words back at the last Olympics."

Jansons smiled. "It has been too long, Kuren," He said with a nod, his light voice reminiscent of a distinctly Northern Eirian accent. "The Ministry of Diplomacy convinced me to tag along with the junior team for some extra publicity. They've been trying to get me for years, so I finally gave in a little."

He put his bag down, unzipping one of the pockets. "Plus, it allowed me to do something else..." After a bit of rifling, he pulled out a manilla envelope that was sealed with an elaborate red stamp of a torch. "Here you are."

Kerry reached out and took the envelope with two hands, as was polite, before breaking the seal. Inside were a pair of certificates printed on sturdy paper, one in English, the other in Eirian. The words "Commission for the Foreign Ensign Rank of the Order of White Fire" were written across the top of the English copy. The document went on to detail the Laeralite's figure skating success, and contained the signature of both Jansons and Chancellor Stendē (although the latter looked more like an autopen). Behind the papers were a ribbon and a small red and white rosette.

"I..." Kerry scanned the paper. "I'm afraid my English isn't the best; what is this exactly? It looks like an award of some kind, and I see your signature."

"Not to worry, my English isn't great either." Jansons gave a small chuckle. "It is an award. The Chancellor made a sports merit order some time back, and they chose me to help lead it. We decided to make an award for exemplary foreign athletes as well, but they wanted a trial run. So, I put up your name to be the first." His grin widened. "After all, anyone skilled enough to beat an Eirian at one of our... How do you say it? Birth sports? Blood sports? I don't know if there's an English translation, but a sport that we are known for. Anyone like that deserves some recognition."

"Hmm. You get some post-nominal letters, for sure. Eirian members are allowed to use the title Kuren on official documents, but I'm not sure how that translates to foreign nations. You would also be invited to the Party of Honors every year, with all of the merit order recipients in attendance. You wouldn't need to go, though. Some tell me that that they can be a little boring."

Jansons looked around, trying to think of the other benefits of the Order. "Besides that medal and rosette, I can't think of much else. But I'd want your advice on new international members for the order."

The Eirian turned his gaze back to his Laeralite counterpart. "And it doesn't matter what my coach or anyone else thinks. You're a fantastic skater and a very kind person. You absolutely deserve this and every other honor that you can receive."

"Well, please do tell the Order that I'm honored to attain their membership, and I'll happily go through any ceremonies or galas they might require. And if you like, we can always stand in the corner and talk short programs and free skates all night," Kerry said. "And thank you. You're an excellent skater as well, and I hope that we can keep sharing the podium at every championship we compete in. I know we haven't gotten the chance to interact much when we've crossed paths, but I want you to know that I'm a tremendous fan of your charity work, with the Colorful Rings Fund and such. If our sport is going to grow and prosper in the future, we've got to keep getting the next generation involved and we've got a responsibility to make it more welcoming than it was for ourselves, or for people in your mom's time. You've been such a leader in that."

Mathias blushed, nodding his appreciation. "Thank you. I am glad that my work has an impact. And you said keeping the sport growing? You've been doing amazing in that regard. Besides being the best skater alive, you also are so kind and welcoming. Even our junior skaters dream of being like you, and with how open and understanding you are, you draw them into the sport. You have the weight of an entire sport on your shoulders, and you are lifting us up. There is no one else who I would prefer to lose to!" Jansons chuckled as he delivered that last remark.

Kerry shrugged his shoulders, grinning broadly in an "aww-shucks" sort of gesture. "You're too kind, man, far too kind. I've trained using your videos just as much as I'm sure you've trained on mine. And I'm sure you had plenty of our young skaters mobbing you earlier as well." Kerry reached over and grabbed a towel to dry off the sweat he'd built up in spite of the rink's cold. "Look, let's walk and talk and get ourselves someplace warmer. This is your first time in Rilos, yes? I'd love to show you the sights, there's a park with some modern art installations downtown I always take visitors to."

"It is. And that sounds very nice! I would love to see the city. I never get to explore when I come to Laeral, except a little bit in Hanshui. To see a city without having the heavy weight of competition on your mind sounds lovely." Jansons reached back for his bag. "And that would allow me to buy you a drink, since you beat my short skate record. It's a new tradition that is spreading on our team."

"A drink? I didn't think of you as much of a drinker, but that sounds lovely," Kerry said. "Lead on, then!"

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