Aftershocks

[Breotonia]

Aftershocks
A Balance Struck​

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Vice Admiral Preston Cole was the commanding officer of the carrier

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and thus naturally the commander of the battle group that centered around the ship. With the ship chosen as the best neutral ground upon which to hold the peace conference the Breotish Government had been able to convene between the involved parties, however, he had found himself quickly outranked by senior brass and politicians. On board the ship were the Foreign Minister, the Breotish ambassador to Greater Sarmatia (who had been pulled from his embassy for the occasion), some people from the offices of the Prime Minister and the Defense Minister, as well as Admiral of the Fleet Terrence Hood and some second tier officers of the general staff. Unofficially, of course, there were

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operatives about but not even Cole was privy to who they might be. ONI "spooks" were as clandestine and hidden as any rival's intelligence services. They were feared, respected, and (often) disliked by the Royal Navy just as much as by any foreign state.

If all things went according to plan direct Breotish involvement in the talks would be minimal, if not wholly non-existent. There was always the chance though that they would have to defend the interests of His Majesty' Government. Helicopters had been arriving non-stop it seemed for all of today and most of the previous day as dignitaries and their entourage arrived en masse for the conference. Most the states involved either had territory on the nearby continent or had recently acquired some and were thus able to shuffle back and forth by aircraft the made the journey of several hundred kilometers a rather short one.

The talk was being held in the captain's own conference room which could seat more than twenty only slightly uncomfortably. It would help to keep delegations to a minimal size and thus, it was hoped, encourage speedy resolutions to any problems that were faced in the the light of Freiheit's collapse. The room was already beginning to fill and Cole dismissed himself from the presence of Fleet Admiral Hood, with whom he had been talking, so the he and the Foreign Minister may begin the proceedings.

-------------------------------------------------------​

Naval Communication Service
Encryption Code: Black
Classification: Secret
Public Key: file/out_of_shadow/

011030Z SEPT 2010
From: Office of Naval Intelligence - Section One
To: Prowler Force East lead ship HMS Midsummer Night (SSN-869)
Subject: Operation Light at the End

CBG "Shadow of Intent" continues to host VIPs from multiple foreign states. Protection of the CBG-SoI is paramount. Prowler Force East is to continue monitoring of traffic in the area and the shadowing of CBG-SoI. CBG-Armageddon's Edge, CBG-All Under Heaven, and CBG-Spirit of Fire all of EASTFLEET have been repositioned to provide combat support to CBG-SoI if needed. Special objectives are as follows:

1. Monitoring of all naval activity in cooperation with satellite and surface fleet data.

2. Shadowing of the carrier battle group centered on HMS Shadow on Intent (CVN-79).

3. Direction for interception by surface forces of all traffic that enters into the designated zone around CBG-SoI.

4. Engagement protocols for all ships non-compliant ships entering the protective zone are now shoot to disable (SD) and, if necessary and with authorization from HIGHCOM, NAVCOM, or ONI, shoot to kill (SK). Note that NRDS protocols are still in place outside the designated protection zone.​

OOC: I don't care how much or how little you RP your intro as I know many find that tedious. I hope I've left it open enough that you can jump right into deliberations if you're that sort. I have purposely set no agenda or order to the topics but the hope of the Breotish is that the primary focus of discussions to create agreed upon political borders and put any possible chance of confrontations to rest. I also apologize for the lackluster quality of the post but it's been a long day and I didn't want to put off the talks any longer than I had to.

 

[Aquitania]

300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Having taken off from the helicoper cruiser Saint Esprit, nearly three hours prior, the Anglysh built NH-3A Sea King transport helicopter approches the Breotish aircraft carrier HMS-Shadow of Intent. On board is the VIPs sent to negotiate the end of the Second Freiheit War as it is being called in Aquitania. The VIPs, four men and their aides. The leader of the group is Maréchal Alexandre de Bouglione who commanded the ground and air forces that defeated the Freiheit army the attacked Aquitania, the Maréchal had insisted on being at this meeting and the Grand Duke had to agreed. With him was Daniel Algru, he too had insisted, as this meeting would affect his people the most, he should be there. Henri Aucoin, is a senior diplomat from the Secretariate of Foreign Affairs, he was the closest thing in Aquitania to a Sarmatian expert. And last was Louis Pialsis Nagazoa, though his cover is that of a member of the diplomatic corps, his true mission was to gather what intelligence he could and if the Breotish couldn't to insure the safety of the others.

The pilot radios the Breotish on the pre-arranged channel.

"Shadow of Intent, this is Aquitanian VIP flight number zero-zero-one, requesting permission to land."

 

[Guiana]

Aboard the HMS Argus
Somewhere in the Implarian Ocean
West of Aquitania

Aboard the HMS Argus Lt General Henry Braddock and Mr. Jeffrey Bancroft from the Foreign Office waited as the Royal Navy helicopter readies to fly them and their staff, along with the Anglysh delegation, to the Breotish carrier Shadow of Intent. Braddock and Bancroft had originally flown over to the Anglysh carrier Heracles, but transferred to the Argus which would take them into hel;icopter range of the Breotish ship. Both men would have perferred to fly directly to the Shadow of Intent, but if the Anglysh were going that way, might as well hitch a ride.

 

[Beautancus]

OCW Despota (the Despot), Imperial Class Super-Carrier
Eastern Implarian Ocean, Northwestern Coastal Waters of the "Memorial Territories"​

The weather here had become progressively more and more homelike as the season had progressed through the sweltering Boreal mid-summer to the infinitely more tolerable late summer- which was something close enough to the Sarmatian version 'for government work.' There was even a moderate breeze slithering in from the west, carrying the scent of salt and scorched jet-fuel with it, two things that Admirał-Flota Eliasz Wojownik had come to count upon as surely as he had the Providence of the Good Lord.

The Despot played host to a scene of barely controlled chaos, a fury of action that had not been seen in some months- since the downfall of the Godless Niemcy regime of the former Freiheit. Though very carefully obvious moves were being taken to 'stay clear' of the Breotish battle-group built around the Shadow of Intent (a name which Wojownik approved of heartily), there was- again- more activity in the air and on the waves than there had been since the fall of Freiheit.

Flights of K-18 fighter-bombers, including a particularly high number of electronic warfare units were patrolling the skies over the territory and territorial waters which now fell under the aegis of the Sarmatian Standard; lithe corvettes sliced through the green-gray littoral waters directly off the coast of the Empire's newest conquest; missile cruisers, destroyers, and frigates spiraled out in similar maneuvers in deeper water- trailing in the wake of the mighty bulk of the Despot.

The situation on the ground in the Memorial Territories had been ramped up as well, with the greatly expanded Imperial Army presence painfully evident along the Czerwony Rana, or the Red Wound as the Imperial forces in the Memorial Territories had taken to calling the "Red Line" that divided the Aquitanian and Sarmatian conquests of the war.

All of this activity was directed by a single individual, granted unlimited plenipotentiary powers by the Emperor that he all but worshipped- Fleet-Admiral Wojownik, the recently elevated Prince-Palatine of all the Implarian Provinces. Though originally, there had been plans to allow the overall command of the occupation of the former Freiheit to pass onto an Imperial Army official, Wojownik had proven himself as gifted an administrator in 'civil' matters as in martial matters- and thus remained on in the lands ground under the steel-shod heel of the Sarmatian titan, a monarch himself in all but name.

At Wojownik's side was the man that had been his constant companion throughout the Freiheit War, the Imperial Oikawan Admiral, Hiraku Fukushima.

The slight Easterner had been granted a litany of titles, both honorary and very real within the Memorial Territories as well, not only signifying the strength of the personal relationship the two men shared- but also the commitment that their respective states had renewed. Even now, as the two warlords awaited the final preparations on their 'custom' helicopter, Fukushima thought to chastise his looming Sarmatian comrade for lighting his pipe...it would entirely unseemly for a man so successful in all matters to fall victim to something as easily avoidable as lung cancer, but he thought better of it. In the time that the two men had known each other, that pipe had been as much a part of the Sarmatian warlord's character as his unrelenting drive for martial perfection. And so, the two men simply waited in silence, enjoying the brisk late-summer breeze that the Heaven's had blessed them with.

A number of other "VIP's" lurked below decks, waiting for their cues to board- very careful to allow Wojownik his space on this ship, which was quite literally the capital of the Memorial Territories. Ignacy Božawola, the chief of the Empire's diplomatic mission to Breotonia was present there, happily sucking down Warreic whiskey and Radillan cigars- in the company of the painfully academic Dr. Bolesław Kujawy, the Empire's chief 'specialist' on Occidental Affairs.

Though Wojownik was perfectly fluent in the particular variant of "English" that was spoken in Breotonia- and the various dialects of German spoken throughout the world- it had been declared "unseemly" for this newest of Prince-Palatine's to conduct discussions in any language other than Sarmatian, and thus the necessity of Božawola and Kujawy. The damnable 'glug-glug' of the Aquitanians French was foreign to all but Kujawy, but there had been equally adamant orders that not a single word in that tongue would be uttered in the course of the upcoming conference.

Rafał Hollád, one of the Životun (more accurate to say the Životun) attachés currently serving within the East Implarian Fleet had grown weary of his quarters, and of the rather dry company offered by the two Sarmatian 'diplomats,' and was already making his way up from the bowels of the ship- Imperial protocol be damned. He was, almost without a doubt, the man most responsible for the dismantling of the Milliyetci Regime of Barazi- and of shattering the will of the former nation of Akhaltsikhe's ability to effectively meddle in Centrjziema. All of this had conspired to make him one of the more valued 'friends' of the Empire in this whole sordid mess.

If the Frogs were bringing their Frankisch, and Anglo-Guianese bum-boys in tow, then the Empire would at the very least bring its shield-brothers.
Arriving on the flight deck in time to receive his notification that their transport was ready, 'Mister' Hollád exchanged brief, but very laconic greetings with the Sarmatian and Oikawan Admirals. "I believe this is our cue to load up, is it not?"

Wojownik nodded to the Životun 'spook,' a leather-sheathed finger slashing out to indicate the truly impressive helicopter that would convey them to the Shadow of Intent. Turning to one of the adjutants that seemed to remain in ever-present orbit around him, Wojownik gave the order to signal to the Breotish that they would be arriving post-haste- as well as to make sure that Božawola and Kujawy were ready within the next three minutes.

Whatever came of this, none of the harshness of the reality that had now set in on the Memorial Territories would be lessened...and it had long since dawned upon Wojownik- and his Masters in Stary Hrodino that this would be one of many upcoming opportunities to make the Occidental degenerates sweat. And that thought, above all others, brought a predatory smile to the Sarmatian warlord's face.

 

[Großlausitz]

Carrier task force KMS Graf Montgelas
Implarian Sea Aquitianian-controlled Freiheit waters


Aboard the carrier KMS Graf Montgelas there was about as much 'controlled' chaos as aboard the OCW Despot of the Sarmatian war fleet. At least to a non-military man such as State Minister (deputy minister) of Foreign Affairs Ulrich Wichmann, recently appointed to succeed the hapless Gottauf in the aftermath of the Jurzan affair, it seemed as if there was no logic behind the proceedings aboard the large vessel of Franken's Königliche Marine.

As Nürnberg was very well aware that the Sarmatians would pay more attention to people wearing uniforms, it had been decided that State Minister Wichmann and his diplomats as well as the security personnel would simply blend in and act as if they were faceless bureaucrats. Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont, who was the commander-in-chief of the Franconian contingent, had been instructed to assume the role of head of mission. He would be supported by his deputy commander Konteradmiral (rear admiral) Prinz Knut von Bamberg, who happened to be a younger brother to the Duke of Bamberg and three adjutants. Altogether the Franconian delegation would consist of 22 people, who were to be airlifted to the HMS Shadow of Intent by two helicopters in a few minutes.

"Alas, I don't know whether I can live up to the role of co-leading a mission, sir. Neither you nor myself have been actually trained for it. And to be frank, thinking of the upstart empire and their typical tendency to award every John and Jane a peerage makes my beliefs really revolt", Konteradmiral Bamberg told his older superior. "It will be a refreshing difference and an interesting experience, my friend -", Beaumont gently patted on his vice's back, "- so don't worry too much and use your brain. If you perform well, I will recommend you for a promotion at home. Furthermore, don't forget that our own monarchy has always been using the tool of awarding hereditary peerages as a tool throughout her history. Nevertheless, to some extent I can relate to your feelings. Their way of establishing monarchic tradition is very clumsy. Last but not least, recall that it was our very own social class, which first carried out duties of state and military until the wake of the constitutional monarchy."

 

[Anglyn]

HMS Argus

Rear-Admiral Sir Horrance Rawlings would have perferred to ride in aboard his flagship, but somebody back in Winchester thought that the light carrier Argus and her escorts would not be as intimidating as the fleet carrier Heracles. Though Rawlings argued that intimidating was the idea, orders were orders and that is why he, John Macey from the Foreign Office, the Guianan and Radilans were now boarding three Sea King helicopters to make the trip from the HMS Argus to the the Breotish carrier Shadow of Intent.

 

[Warre]

WARL; Farraigesionnach (Warreic High Kingdom Ship; Sea Fox)
Eastern Implarian Ocean, South-by-Southwest from the Riochtai An Iarthair [Western Kingdoms/Duchies],
Approximately 150 Nautical Miles from the Samartian Implarian Territoies [and former Freiheit]​

She was a simple ship, the Sea Fox. Simple in comparision to many, at least. An Amphibious Assault Ship [And thereby Helicopter Carrier] which had been used in the Freiheit War, she had been designed to be efficient and powerful, as all of the Míolta Móra Class AAS's were. Despite the fair calmness of the sea around her, within her mess; things were another story entirely; as a loud and boisterous chant, it's ritualistic tones the sort which would make grown wolves blush in modesty exuded from it. Amongst a feast like meal for those sailors off duty, there was a shanty going forward.

The crown-prince of the MacAodha Clann [and thereby the entire High Kingdom] was amongst them, tearing a hunk from a freshly roasted deer, which the Crown-Prince and a few of the fellows which he had brought with him had hunted earlier in the day, before the travel to the meeting had begun. He shoveled it into his mouth in an undignified way; and then went for another; when the off-duty Lieutenant-Orduithe [Lieutenant-Commander], a man known as Brian MacKerry, roared forward amongst the drumming elbows of the crew.

“You dare take the hero's share, little mouse?” Brian of the family MacKerry roared forward, directly at Ceith MacAodha, the crown-prince.

And so the Prince licked his fingers, giving the man a glare of contempt, playing well his part. “And who if not I, Brian of the MacKerrys? For I am no little mouse, and even if you see me as such; it is only your own flaw. The lesser you see me as, the more stupid or weak your eyes and ears incorrectly depict me as, then that is your own weakness. A bear will not bring forward his whole strength to a mouse, for there may be a bigger bear nearby to take advantage of his energy wasted upon the mouse.”

“Truly, little mouse?” The commander stepped forward, and then cracked his knuckles. In other cultures; to hit a crown-prince or any prince for that matter; it would be political and physical suicide, but the threat from Brian to Ceith was very very very real, here. The Warreic did not coddle those who were not strong enough to lead, and as the Lt. Commander swung for the prince, Ceith quickly ducked, before charging forward and headbutting the Lt. Commander, shoving more of the roast deer into his mouth as he did.

“And so his bite is as his bark, so this boy is a true speaker for we hounds.” MacKerry chuckled, rubbing his reddened forehead, and signaled for the ship's chaplain to move forward. The young apprentice druid almost fell upon his face in the process [and thus his name Liam the Crashing Stallion]; but caught himself by the edge of the table, handing the prepared woad to the Lt. Commander, whom promptly pricked his thumb with a knife, and was followed by the other assembled crew, each whom dropped a drop of their blood into pre-prepared ochre, and turned It into a mixture of orange-red tints, with the druid marking the Crown-Prince upon his forehead, making a circular imprint towards the top, a third of a triskele, and followed by the Chaplain, whom formed a full triskele with the woad. Orange-red warpaint and blood drying upon his forehead, with woad following, quick line was drawn across his face with the warpaint, and then the crew grinned, nodding and the crown-prince beaming as well.

“Ní féidir do naimhde a bheith láidir go leor chun ghéar a choimeád agat ach lag go leor chun tú a mharú! May your enemies be strong enough to keep you sharp but weak enough to not kill you! ” they cheered, before continuing their feast, and the Crown-prince leading soon after; to board one of the ship's own sea-knights, along with the interpreters [for the Crown-prince spoke “English” and Tiburan, and had spartan training in French and German, he had no true skill in one way or another with Samartian, and was not confident in his ability to discern either dialect of English without any qualm at all.], and the head of the Cu Na Aodh; General Ser Conan NaBhfiachgruaige, whom ate some of the roast deer the Crown-Prince had brought along.

The Warreic were prepared as they could be for a matter such as this; their dealings with things such as this were not as full of experience as they'd like; and their attitudes upon it were set. As stubborn as a dog to a long-lost bone, after the discussions within Stary Hrodino, Warre knew where it's fellow packmembers stood, and was quite willing to fight or ignore the yapping mouse-hunting hounds it perceived many of the other nations which would be present to be.

 

[Breotonia]

Aftershocks
A Balance Struck​

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

The conference room was beginning to reach it maximum capacity as the foreign delegations arrived. While most of the nations had brought ten or twenty personnel they were only permitted three representatives in the room at a time. While space was a concern the main focus of the Breotish was to minimize the number of people in that hopes that it would expedite the decision-making of the assembled body. Each new voice was a new viewpoint and thus it increased the likelihood of disagreement. There were three Breotish individuals Fleet Admiral Terrence Hood, Foreign Secretary Matthew Steel, and a third individual who was acting the part of an assistant to Steel but was in fact an operative for the Office of Naval Intelligence. Hood, who would was the "leader" of the Breotish group, did not think there was much reason for the spook to be present but it was hard to convince the ONI that something wasn't their business. It may have seemed odd to some that the Fleet Admiral would be playing host and main representative for the Breotish while the Foreign Secretary sat at his side but NAVCOM, HIGHCOM, and the Prime Minister all agreed that this was more a military matter than a foreign relations one. Anyway, the navy had a history of getting its way in Breotish politics. Hood wanted this settled and he would see to it himself rather than let the politicians handle it.

He sat at the head of the long table, in his white dress uniform, and as he began to speak the quiet hum of several private conversations died. "Thank you gentleman for attending and I would like to welcome you again to the Shadow of Intent. Today our nations have convened to try and set things right in the aftermath of the successful silencing of Freiheit. With the war won however, I implore you all to not overlook the battle for the peace. We must create a lasting legal agreement on the future of this region so that it is not allowed to fester and become a problem once again. I believe that we are up to this challenge."

"I'm sure that everyone has come to the table with their own suggestions and concerns and I promise that they will all be heard. If there are no objections I would suggest that Admirał Wojownik of Greater Sarmatia speak first. I think we are in agreement that Greater Sarmatia has the most stake in the matter and it was the country that drew first blood and bore the greatest part of the burden in the elimination of the Faust regime as a threat."

 

[Beautancus]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters


Having eschewed his pipe, which Wojownik was well aware would be taken as a hopeless affectation, the Sarmatian Fleet-Admiral remained politely attentive to what his Breotish counterpart was prattling on about- methodically packing a cigarette on the crystalline face of his timepiece.

Satisfied that the tobacco was sufficiently compressed, he sparked the thing to life, making a very obvious show or relishing the sweetness of the cancerous smoke. Even as Hood finished his introductory amble, Wojownik was already stealing very deliberate, and entirely obvious glares in the direction of his EDF "counterparts."

With his name mentioned- at last- and with due acknowledgement of the feat of arms and honor that the Sarmatian Empire had accomplished just three-hundred miles to the east, Wojownik found it prudent to stand. Offering a bow to his LFS compatriots, and to Hood before he began his own spiel, Wojownik made another very deliberate move. Sucking in one last pull from his cigarette, he stubbed it out in the crystalline ashtray that had been provided for him.

It was unsurprising that when Wojownik did finally speak, it was not in English, not in Sarmatian- and certainly not in German...but in the language of the Empire's original Eastern population, the Khazars. The sing-song harshness of the language, if such a description was sensible at all, was unmistakable to any that had ever come across it, and not unsurprisingly, perhaps the most neglected "major" language of study in the Occident.

"Gentlemen, colleagues...Western dogs and whoresons. First and foremost, it has fallen to me to once again reiterate my beloved Emperor's gratitude towards the Breotish, and Fleet-Admiral Hood in particular, for facilitating these talks, that likely will not amount to a great deal- but are still a political necessity. We, the mighty and proud sons of Sarmatia find it most pleasantly surprising that a nation so far removed from the visceral realities of our world has within it the ability to fully comprehend the totality of our accomplishments and commitments in the preceding Crusade."

Pausing to allow the various translators scattered about the table, Wojownik wrapped his knuckles absentmindedly against the green-enameled steel of the breast plate that had once more been brought into use as the standard dress for staff and ranking officers in the Imperial military. A quick flick of his wrist and another cigarette was produced, placed between his lips and quickly lit.

"In truth, the Empire feels that there is only one matter of any real importance to be discussed here...and even so, the level of actual discussion will be negligible. We and our allies have subdued the largest part of what was previously one of the world's most dangerous rogue states. We hold the territories of the former Freiheit in trust now, as we shall forever more. All that remains for you men- and for your governments...and so-called governments...is the simple acknowledgement of these political and territorial facts. Matters of policy within these divided territories are of no concern to the Empire, and we suggest that the reciprocal lack of concern for the Empire's own policies are observed on the part of all parties represented here."

"Not a single bit of parsing is required on this matter. I have spoken plainly, and will not deviate from this position. We intend to observe the territorial integrity of the Franconians' Templar puppets, unless unduly provoked, naturally. The so-called 'Red Line' is a creature of our own creation, and it would be dishonorable on our part to disrespect the idea in anyway."

Again, Wojownik paused to allow the translators time to catch up. The entire time his strong-featured face had remained the very picture of solemnity and severity, though he did allow a tiny smile to crease the corners of his mouth when that most provocative portion of what he said was translated.

"So. If there are papers to be signed, I suggest we do so soon. I am a busy man, and I imagine that Admiral Hood is as well. I know for a fact that my colleagues are. I have no concern for the time that the Franconians waste here, for they would be spending it counting their ill-gotten wealth otherwise. Concerning their puppets...as is the case with all matters concerning them, they are beneath my consideration, and I will leave their coddling to their masters."

 

[Großlausitz]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont merely raised an eyebrow at the tirade of hardly-disguised contempt demonstrated by Fleet Admiral Wojownik. Why wasn’t he surprised? Yes, the General was disgusted at the clear lack of demeanor by the Sarmatian commander. As Beaumont glanced at his deputy commander Konteradmiral Prinz Bamberg, he saw a very similar sentiment. “My friend, it will be more useful if you learned to hide your true feelings more carefully –“, he advised the younger naval officer, “- lest you condemn your own mission objectives. It won’t be the last time you have to cooperate with a man of questionable descend and even more doubtable goals for this or that political reason. Nevertheless, the old saying by Graf Montgelas remains true – ‘With a gentleman I am always a gentleman and a half, and when I have to do with a pirate, I try to be a pirate and a half.’ We are here to support our Aquitanian friends and we won’t let them drown in a tirade of obscenities.” Prinz Bamberg shrugged. “We have been with them for only a little time and they instantly confirmed every prejudice I had about Sarmatians.” This comment even made the sober State Minister Ulrich Wichert smirk broadly, who appeared to have chosen a boring looking suit for on purpose.

Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont turned to the leader of the Aquitanian party. “Since the Sarmatians take a childish pleasure in hurling profanities in your, in our general direction, what about us taking up your ‘verbal’ defence, whereas you focus on simply getting the actual message across, Marshal?”, he whispered.​

 

[Aquitania]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Marshal Bouglione sat quietly as the Breotish Admiral fawned over the Sarmatian in his introduction, it reminded him of a dog licking his master's hand in hopes for a pat on the head. Bouglione had never before subscribed to the suspicion of what a growing number in the Grand Duchy have for the Breotish and what they would lower themselves to do if there is profit to be had, but now seeing it first hand maybe there is something in the saying he has heard, 'it matters not the color of a Breotonian's skin, it will be found that his nose will always be some shade of brown'. Well, it looks today to be Sarmatian brown.

As the Breotish have this day gone down in Bouglione's esteem, he ignores them for they are no longer of consequence. The Breotish were here only to grab up a bit of glory themselves and a few treats from the Sarmatians, as far as Bouglione was concerned, they could have it. What was important now was what the Sarmatian had to say and not how well the Breotish Admiral had performed. When Admirał Wojownik finally did address those gathered, it did not surprise Marshal Bouglione a bit that it was in a language not spoken in the civilized world, but the tone in his voice and the way the Sarmatian puffed himself up made it quite obvious, even without the translators, that what he was saying was less about the future of the the Otchi, as well as the former state of Freiheit, and more about his own aggrandizement, the translators would only confirm it.

The translators did do a credible job of passing on the contempt the Admiral, as well as his so-called Empire, held for the West. This too did not surprise the Marshal, for it is not the first time that someone that lacked nobility and honour has tried to tear down those that do. At least in the Admiral's own mind he might be able to obtain that which for him is in truth unobtainable in the eyes of one being in the universe that it truely matters to, God. For it was in the name of God and the saving of the Otchi that the Sarmatians had declared that they went to war, but the Admiral said nothing about God or the Otchi, which only confirmed what has always been suspected in Bordèu, that dispite what the Sarmatians had preached in the world press, this was for them a war of conquest, one of Empire and nothing more. At least Wojownik did not compund the heresy of their press and continue the lie that what they had done was done in the name of God.

Looking over at his host, Bouglione wondered if the Breotish Admiral Hood was proud of the part he played in this. To think such flowery words turned out to be for a classless barbarian who's crass words and borish behavior is more an insult to the host than it is to those the insults are actually targeted at. Actually Bouglione almost felt sorry for the Admiral, but what is the old saying, 'If you lie down with dogs, you will get up with fleas.' At least he got the desired pat on the head.

When the translators finished, Marshal Bouglione looked over at the young Otchi Chieftain sitting next to him. The look on the man's face was one of anguish and Bouglione could only imagine what Daniel Algru was thinking. Algru and his people had been told that Greater Sarmatia and her allies had come to Freiheit to liberate them, to free them from the opression of the Faust regime, but the Sarmatian had said nothing about the Otchi wellbeing and made it very clear that the Empire's only concern was the territory they had gained. If it was only conquest they cared about, what will be the fate of those of his people still within Sarmatian occupied territory be. Bouglione did have a great deal of sympathy for the young man, what he had gone through to now find that he and his people were used as propoganda tools to justify an imperial conquests. Sensing that Daniel may say something out of turn, Bouglione leans over and quietly whispers to him.

"Relax mon ami. Do not allow your emotions to cloud your judgement nor distract you from our mission here. Be thankful to God that you and those of your people who made it south of the Red Line will not be under the tender mercy of such men as Fleet Admiral Wojownik."

Satisfied that Daniel Algru would deport himself in the manner that is proper of that of a nobleman and chieftain, Marshall Bouglione was about to stand when Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont asked the pleasure to respond to the Sarmatian. Bouglione knows that the insults thrown by the Sarmatian had many targets and the primary one was the Franconians. The Franconians have long bore the brunt of the insults from the likes of the Sarmatians but Bouglione wonders if this was the proper time for a verbal confrontation. Turning to Beaumont, the Marshal whispers to him in almost flawless German, though it was as much for the possible irritating effect it would have on Admiral Wojownik in having to hear an occasional word of the language as it was out of respect to the Franconian.

"Herr Generalmajor. I am sure it would be a great pleasure to see you verbally joust with the Sarmatian even though you would have to handicap yourself by using small words so that he might be able to comprehend their meaning, I am not sure if such exchange would be wise. The Sarmatians, especially this one, are able to deal it out but incapable of handling any kind of criticism or insult. He just might flee the battlefield and go home and where would that leave us. But, seeing that this is a matter of honour on your part, I will acquiesce and allow you the first tilting of the lance."

 

[Großlausitz]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Konteradmiral Prinz Knut von Bamberg, who apparently sympathized with the young native nobleman, turned to the young Otchi Chief Daniel Algru. “Unfortunately we didn’t have the opportunity to fight for your good cause from the very beginning. Rest assured that you will have another benefactor in us.”, he whispered, while Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont respectfully replied to his Aquitanian counterpart: “Thank you for granting me this honour, Marshal. Henceafter we will resign to be your silent yet nevertheless outspoken allies.”

Taking a sip from his glass of water, the Franconian General paused for a few seconds. “Mein verehrter Herr Admiral, -“ he would have considered addressing him by the plethora of his title, “ - as one can best think and express one’s feelings in one’s mother tongue, I will rely on the service of your fine interpreters.” Because it always good to make an over-confident opponent think you’re weak, the General neglected to mention they had one team member, who was a talented student of Eastern languages. Whereas Oikawan was certainly his best language, Auswärtiges Amt service member Dr. Jannik Nordelbe was fairly okay at Khazarian and the other imperial languages. Actually he was one of the best at the Auswärtiges Amt when it came to Eastern languages. Dr. Nordelbe’s job was to transcribe and later translate the interpretations by the Sarmatian admiral’s lackeys. Better safe than sorry.

“Anyway –“, Generalmajor Wilhelm Beaumont continued, “- whatever you practice within the realms of your freshly-craft empire is entirely your business, yet in the eyes of the world certain procedures are to be observed. Rest assured, we won’t take your particularly interesting choice of words towards our Aquitanian and Otchi friends to the public. We are confident there’s no need for us participating in creating the true image of Sarmatia in the world. Your ruler and you, his faithful servant, have the sufficient potential to do so. We, who have the honour of representing His Majesty King Alfred IV, by God’s Grace Sovereign of Franken, and His Royal Highness the Prince-Regent, have but one conclusion for this gathering in mind: In the capacity as duly accredited plenipotentiary of your generous ruler you will sign papers, which confirm the so-called Red Line solution and hand over protection of the Southern Otchi territory to the Grand Duchy of Aquitania. And we will act the witnesses on part of Aquitania. Furthermore, these papers will ensure that Aquitania is free to grant the Otchis as much autonomy as they desire to have, if necessary even independence.

In a nutshell, these are our modest goals. We hope it will be a productive meeting.”

As implicitly agreed, the Generalmajor ceded the floor to Marshal Bouglione only to speak when necessary. “Sir, if looks could kill, the Sarmatian upstart would have happily murdered you.”, Konteradmiral Prinz Bamberg grinned alluding to the Fleet Admiral’s reaction to Beaumont’s gesture and mimic. “Well, my young friend, there are times when it is useful to show more contempt than you truly feel. It helps to deceive your opponent.”, the senior officer answered.​

 

[Aquitania]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

As Generalmajor Beaumont sits, Marshal Bouglione stands and while smoothing his dress white uniform, he overhears the excahnge of the two Franconians. Allowing himself only the most slightest of smile over the comments, Bouglione addresses Admiral Hood.

"Admiral Hood, as it is proper in Aquitania to show respect to one's host, I will convey the aims and Grand Duchy's in english. First, His Most Catholic and Royal Highness, Jean III, Grand Duke of Aquitania, Defender of the Faith and Sovereign Grand Master of the Order of the Templars wishes to convey his appreciation to His Majesty, Gregory V, King of Breotonia for volunteering the Shadow of Intent to be the neutral ground and Fleet Admiral Hood to be the unbiased mediary of these proceedings."

Pausing just long enough to dutifully bow his head to the Breotish Admiral before turning his attention to the Sarmatian Admiral

"Like Fleet-Admiral Wojownik has stated about Greater Sarmatia's own demands, I too will state only what cancerns the Grand Duchy, but unlike the Fleet-Admiral, as it is not to us, but to the Lord Almighty we must give the glory, there will be a distinct lack self aggrandizement on my part. His Royal Highness, Grand Duke Jean III, and therefore the Grand Duchy of Aquitania, is honour bound by His Royal Highness' agreement, an agreement that was proposed by Fleet-Admiral Wojownik on behalf of Greater Sarmatia, that establish a boundry between the southern Free Otchi territory and that of Sarmatian occupied Freiheit. The Grand Duchy accepted the Red Line Plan with the aim to prevent further bloodshed due to misunderstandings brought about when armies of different nationalities meet . So as long as Greater Sarmatia and her allies agree to recognize and respect the land and sea boundries set down in the agreement and forgo any interferrence with administration of the territory by the Grand Duchy of Aquitania, in return the same recognition and respect will be accorded to the Freitheit territories occupied by Greater Sarmatia and her allies."

Turning to the young man next to him, Marshal Bouglione proceeds to introduce Daniel Agru.

"As it is his right to address those assembled, I introduce Seigneur Daniel Algru, marquis de Otchiterre."

Not yet being accustom to the title bestowed upon him by the Grand Duke of Aquitania, Daniel hesitates for just a moment, before standing. As his french is not good and english even worse, Daniel has no choice but to speak in the language he had been raised with, german.

"Though it has been my people that have suffered the greatest in this matter, on their behalf I will request very little. For those Otchi still living north of the Red Line, I ask that those that desire it be allowed passage to the south. That the remains of those of my people that had perished in the north that can be located, including those of my father, Jonas Algru, be transported to the south for identification and proper burial. And last, allow those responsible for the slaughter of the Otchi people and are still alive and found in the land formerly known as Freiheit, to be extradited to the south to answer for their crimes."

With that said, Daniel Algru sits back down as there is nothing more to say.

 

[Beautancus]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters


Wojownik dismissed the pitiful mewling of the Franconian and his Aquitanian eunuch with a simple flick of his wrist. They'd merely restated all that he'd said in his opening statements, each of them proving to be just as apt at wasting air as he'd always thought their kind to be. The Franconians had attempted to garner a rise from the Empire, and its many servants since its inceptions- by claiming that it was nothing save an upstart. This was far from the historical or political reality...and the Franconians knew that, they simply believed that they'd found an argument to seize upon and would throw it about as often as they could- and always to as little avail as the case would be here, today.

The Empire was merely the latest and truest iteration of a state that had been mighty when the Germanic tribes of the west had been naught but flea-bitten barbarians cavorting about in dog-furs. The truth of the power that Cesarz Jozef III wielded as finely as any surgeon might wield a scalpel was well beyond the point of being easily ignored...and that was enough for Wojownik. That was more than enough reason for him to maintain his easy, predatory smile. Whereas their civilizations would continue to drift towards hedonism and decay, the might of the Midlands would continue to grow- until it entirely overtook the petty kingdoms and republics of the Occident, by whatever means.

It was a simple decision to continue on in English, far finer and far better practiced than what the gurgling frog of an Aquitanian could muster- but the calculation was very clear. Locking eyes squarely with the aboriginal chieftain, Wojownik allowed some of what had propelled him to the heights that he now enjoyed to bleed through.

"Of a certainty Seigneur Algru, I would not think to rob your people of their natural right to live amongst their own kind. As you've so stated, you and yours have suffered far more unjustly than any other party...and due in the largest part to the antipathy of the cuckolds that you've seen fit to cling to now. As soon as we are assured that large scale civilian transportation has been regularized and brought back up to levels of safety that other areas of the world enjoy, we will do all that is within our power to ensure that any and all of your kinsmen that so desire to join you in your new home are able to do just that. Those that choose to remain in the lands that they have so long fought and died for will be handsomely rewarded...as I will make it very clear here and now, that despite the fact that we do not share the effeminate predilections of your current hosts, we do have a concern for real honor, and for justice unchained."

By this point the smile had disappeared from the Sarmatian warlord's face altogether, replaced with the same mask of bronze resolve that had seen the war through to its ultimate conclusion. "As for the matter of the extradition of any of the war-criminals of the defunct Denever-Faust regime...I must offer my most sincere apologies, but this is an impossibility. I will not bother to enumerate the many points of Occidental jurisprudence that we lack any faith at all in...but I will say that those Niemcy butchers that have fallen into our hands thus far, and continue to do so with each passing day are, and will forever more be made to feel the monumental error of their ways- in a manner that is best not described in polite company," a nod of his head indicated Admiral Hood, and the LFS men gathered in the conference room, "...but I am sure that your forefathers would appreciate these measures, in their grim totality."

 

[Breotonia]

Aftershocks
A Balance Struck​

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Hood was sure that he felt the rooms physical atmosphere change as the two parties verbally sparred. In lieu of the refined disdain and hidden subtext through which the Frankens conveyed their feelings towards their Sarmatian counterparts Wojownik preferred a bluntness that the Fleet Admiral found genuinely surprising. Of course the Sarmatian's were very proud people and pride often comes packaged with contempt. Some might see this as a bad situation for any mediator but Hood knew that none of the assembled men could show that they were in anyway annoyed by the comments of their counterparts and so the likelihood of an outburst or a breakdown of talks because of verbal abuse was remote. It would come at a great blow to national prestige to anybody that cracked under the assault. Despite the game the representatives were playing with one another the Breotish were happy to see that progress was being made.

"If I might interject gentlemen. It seems that the primary concern of our meeting, the future legal arrangements for the territories comprising former Freiheit, is all but settled. All parties agree to the current divisions of the area and unless there are objections that have not yet been raised I feel confident that we will be able to draft an agreement along these lines."

Hood reviewed notes he had been taking, "The two points of possible contention that I notice are in regards to the movement of the Otchi peoples and the jurisdiction over former Freiheiter operatives. On the question of the Otchi, if I have understood Fleet Admiral Wojownik properly, the Greater Sarmatians are willing to allow their freedom of movement pending the stabilization of the transport situation. If I might inquire, Fleet Admiral, how long do you estimate before this stabilization occurs?"

"Regarding the the prisoners of war, again if I am to understand the Fleet Admiral fully, the Greater Sarmatian government is quite immovable. Is Marquis Algru willing to alter his position or offer some type of possible compromise on this issue?"

 

[Warre]

And so the Curach Crow lets out it's rhapsody, the Borean Hound let's out it's growling challenge of a howl. In silence of movement and expression, the Crown-Prince of the MacAodha Clann; the crown-prince of all Warre, the next High-King of the Warre; the man known as Ceith Mac Lubra Mac Aodha listened to the going's on, having his translators give a rather broken explanation of the Khazar spoken, though a few [bare few] words of the Sarmatian Fleet-Admiral Wojownik's originating speech had been picked up by the crown-prince. To that, he gave a neutral expression; there was no obvious offense meant by it, after all.

The son of Lubra of the Mac Aodha did not have much of a problem loosely following the other comments, though. More familiar with Tysker Deutsch than then Frankener form; he almost struggled a bit with the accentuation, but his well-honed ears picked up a slight bit, the whispering, the accent; and his spartan knowledge of Deutsch as a whole preventing him from picking up more. His expression was still neutral, almost like someone emotionally dead, the woad clearly painted across his forehead, the holy Triskele upon his forehead in stark contrast to his skin, the woad, red-orange ochre-blood warpaint clearly marking the Triskele upon his forehead.

It wasn't until the Aquitanian's spoke that his eyebrow's even twitched; and then the words of the Fleet-Admiral and the Breotish Admiral. A sheer, snarling expression came to his face. Those words, the whole attitude of the Aquitanian's, it was unacceptable. The Aquitanian's entire attitude was exactly that of the stereotypical Templars, the character almost as if from a bad Great War movie.

The young Warreaigh shoved his chair from under himself, standing up and speaking simply, quickly. Like the pitter-pat-clang of a pair sparring with swords, he lunged for a strong blow to shove his enemies off balance; to keep them off balance.

“You speak like a child, Bouglione.” It was as if he was reading it from a book; he didn't hold any doubt in his statement. “And you come to us with your God at the forefront of your nation's claims; you say that it is his will that guides your nation, and not the Grand Duke's. You play games, and you are wrong.”

He cracked his knuckles at that.

“Warre has fought with the Germeanise Colonists for centuries; as we have fought against all invading peoples who have rich lands in their homes. You speak of caring for the Otchi, but your arrival and your nation's building of itself; they pushed them into the clutches of people like Denever and Faust. But now; as you can expand your nation's territories, you seek to make yourself look like a saint.”

“The War Criminals committed crimes against all the peoples of the Tailte Iartharach; the western lands for you uncleaned men about; and they will be held to the justice of those who find them; the Otchi within the Western Kingdoms will be allowed the rights they would otherwise be given, they may move to the Otchi “Freestate”; they may stay within the territory of Warre if they wish, and they will be given all the opportunities they would've if they were born as Warreaigh; to form their own demesnes, to become citizens, and -even more than that- be allowed their own pocket territories, if they so wish them. And we will not budge on this matter. The red line is a forgone matter; and this is all I have to say.”

 

[Aquitania]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

So the mongrel has a bark, how nice is the only thought Bouglione gives to the Warreic Crown-Prince. The Grand Duchy has cared little for the knuckle-draggers of the far north, a people that even their Eireann cousins seem to be embarrassed about, what the Warreic prince only proved in his little outburst was that he could be even more boorish then his Sarmatian master. Ignoring the Warreic as he would a yapping dog, Bouglione quietly speaks to Daniel Algru about the Sarmatian's response to the Otchi's requests.

"It will get us nowhere to argue over the murderers still in Sarmatian territories, they will either be properly dealt with or they won't, so there is little to be gained in pushing the matter. As for the promise to allow those Otchi who wish to leave safe passage to the south, all I can say is that it is a Sarmatian promise and it will be up to you on how much stock you can put into it. The same goes for the remains of your father and the others. In otherwords, they won't give you or me anything they don't have to. My advice Your Grace, allow me to accept what we have and hope that one day in the future God grants the justice that you and your people truely deserve."

Daniel Algru knows that the Marshal was right, the Sarmatians will give up nothing the don't want to even if it was the honorable thing to do.

"Do as you think right Herr Marshal."

Bouglione rises and directs his comments only towards Fleet Admirał Wojownik.

"Fleet Admirał Wojownik, we are in accord where it comes to the boundries of the respective territories as well as their future disposition and, in addition, seeing that you are adamantly against the turning over of any war criminals to Otchi justice, further arguement would be obviously be a waste of time, so on those subjects no further comments will be made. As for the allowing of free passage of the Otchi to the South as well as turn over those Otchi remains that can be recovered, all I ask is that perhaps a third party, the Breotish perhaps as they have here, would be allowed to be the intermediary in this matter while the Grand Duchy reimburses the cost of the personnel and transport. Other than that, it is in my opinion that there is little else to speak about and if upon your answer to the last request, and if our host will supply the document on which spells out what we have agreed to, I have the authority to sign for His Royal Highness, Grand Duke Jean III, while His Grace, Marquis Daniel Algru will sign for the Free Otchi."

 

[Beautancus]

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters


Wojownik could scarcely hide his contentment with the...furor...of his Warreic colleague. There was a man, and a people will real fire in their livers- a people than had proven time and time again that they were worthy to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Hosts of the Sarmatian Emperor. He was even proving to have a knack for the sort of diplomacy that the Imperial Regime favored...yes, there were many possibilities for the future involving that young man.

As to the Franconian's Aquitanian eunuch- and that creature's Otchi bond-servant...there was little left to be said. There was little doubt in Wojownik's mind that the Freiheiters would be tried- and imprisoned...but the Occidentals had little stomach for what was reckoned to be "true justice" in the Midlands. As far as transferring the remains of any Otchi...that wouldn't be nearly as difficult as organizing the transportation of several, several thousand living beings and all their belongings.

Rather than directing his response to the Aquitanian however, Wojownik gave an uncommitted toss of his shoulders and looked back to Admiral Hood. "Admiral, you may add the stipulation that the Empire shall do all within its power to disinter and transfer the remains of any and all persons that can be verifiably proven Otchi. And beyond that...yes, I believe we have come to an end- to what I feel can only be described as an exercise in masochism? There would be little point in prolonging these matters, as I am sure that you are as weary of this mewling company as I." Turning to the Warreic High-Prince for confirmation- and the rest of the assembled "Allied" representatives, Wojownik gave a final, stiff nod.

"Yes, let us be done with this whole sordid business. And my authority in this matter need not be stated... Whatever the case, I feel the need to bathe."

 

[Breotonia]

Aftershocks
A Balance Struck​

HMS-Shadow of Intent (CVN-79)
300 Kilometers off the West Coast of Freiheit
Implarian International Waters

Hood took this final exchange at its face value and rose to address the gathered representatives. As much as he was enjoying their company and the little contest they were engaging in he would have to try and get them off the ship before his patience wore thin and he did something stupid. It was likely that tossing them overboard and sinking their ships would reflect badly upon his record. Besides the Warreic, a culture he had minimal experience with, he suspect everybody at the table could be dealt with in a perfectly civilized manner on their own. Put them together go and you've got a miniature war. One day it could become an actual war but so long as it did not happen while he was on watch he'd be happy.

Now standing he spoke, "Gentlemen I think we have an accord. That we could come together fair minded and levelheaded and settle this matter is a testament to your civility. You serve as a shining beacon to all diplomats and leaders of the world. I congratulate you."

He knew that somewhere, perhaps even on the ship, Naval Intelligence officers were already reviewing the terms of the agreement and planning amended routes for task groups in the area. No doubt they were also planning on repositioning the Prowler-class submarines under their control so as to more effectively monitor naval activity and, to put it bluntly, spy on everyone in the newly divided area. Hood had a feeling this would not be the last time that a meeting was held to decide the future of the area in the wake of a war. Hopefully the next one would be just as small, just as fast, and just has bloodless in regards to the Breotish.