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Scourge of Scorpions: The Diamond War

Gunnland

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December 30, 2010
Knytlingsfort


Five-on-five shinny may have looked primitive to Europeans glued to the IFV Champions League, but pond hockey was the passion of Oelar. At the pubs of Knytlingsfort, truant workers from mines and sweatshops screamed for their hero, Gregers Erlingsson Smitan. "Ore, Ore, Iron Eir! Ore, Ore, Iron Eir!" Smitan was easily the best player in the UHA, dancing around the Redisx star Denys Denysson Haugr, bowling over Yungdrung Gutsak's massive defender Anders Tomasson Bakowsky, and smacking the puck through the legs of the Redisx goalie, his cousin, Jónstyr Petursson Viereskog. The furious crowd in the bleachers at the Great Copse, two hundred miles away in the capital, began to hurl snowballs onto the shinny-pond.

The rivalry was especially tense in this year's opener because the Yungdrung Gutsak goalkeeper's older brother, Robert Petursson, was the Knytlingsfort police captain who accidentally shot and killed Lord Eir's only son, Terje Sigvarthursson. (Nobody knew then that in a matter of weeks he would become prime minister.) The boisterous miners were pleased that the other Viereskog was no match for Smitan on the shinny-pond. Another goal. "Ore, Ore, Iron Eir! Ore, Ore, Iron Eir!"

The energy was a precious escape from everyday life in Olmolungring's only real city, unplanned and sprawling, where men left early for the diamond and iron mines and the women worked long hours in sweatshops contracted by Franconian companies. A city where Aren aid workers worked under the suspicious eyes of the priests, and the new ineffectual socialist ISRA government waved their fingers (and sometimes guns) at wealthy international bankers. There was no mystery why the people of Oberschlesnitz loathed Yungdrung Gutsak, the picturesque, sleepy, and well-fed town perched up higher in the mountains. The price of the country's refusal to modernize were the waves of the rural poor who washed up outside Knytlingsfort. Feudal anarchism made Yungdrung Gutsak a lovely little mountain town, but Knytlingsfort paid the price.
 

Gunnland

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January 18, 2011

"Aldy, did you hear about our Terns?" Stadhaldr Jebsdatter Stubbe had not picked up her mobile phone to talk about ice hockey. "I have more important things to do than talk to you about pond-shinny. Good day." She believed this to be true, but her client was persistent. "3-2 over Knytlingsfort with five minutes left! Haven't you felt all the life sucked out of this city, Aldy? Here's the thing. This is exactly what we need to get serious about moving the team to Erlangen. The UHA has approved it and at least ten home games if Downeastern goes there. I have a meeting with our Franconian partners about it tomorrow. DT Erlangen, think about it. This could be my big break...! Stadhaldr approved an extension of his loan in exchange for a 10% cut, cash, to her personally.

OelarBank had not been happy that an internal investigation found she used Bank money for an ill-conceived run for the Great Council in Yungdrung Gutsak, but she was too shrewd an investor to fire. (She suspected Lord Alvitr, a principal shareholder in the Bank, blamed her for 'stealing' the election from F. J. Gutkind.) And Staldhaldr was accustomed to doing what she wanted; she was one of those ambitious women that Oelarian men feared to death. Walking into the Oberschlesnitz-Eir Copper Building, she found her grandfather's secretary reading a glossy tabloid. E&W MINISTER'S AFFAIR WITH FRANCONIAN SPY Stadhaldr startled her with a, "How's Daddy?" The secretary didn't like when Stadhaldr called Lord Eir "Daddy", especially lately when Stadhaldr affected a northern highlands accent. 'How's Dead-Eye?' But Stadhaldr thought she was a bimbo, and jealous of her besides. The bimbo shrugged.

The truth was Lord Margrave Sigvarthur Sigvarthursson Eir, home from the Great Council, was not well. He was dead. Sure, he kept breathing and fulfilling his duties, such as they were, but with a listlessness that did not befit the living. He might remember he was a titan of the mining industry, the skycommander who built the modern Aircommand, "Surtr" and the "Lion of the Sindhu" who put down a communist insurrection. How that man had become whomever he was now, he did not know. The slaying of his son Terje left him hollow. Looking closer over the dismal city he had built, Sigvarthur Sigvarthursson realized they were both dead. Knytlingsfort and its old leonine lord, dead. Black circles of slums ringed the city's dead eyes: men who did not know what they were on earth to do.

Splashy advertisements had heralded the construction of the high-rise next to the OEC building, twenty-stories of luxury apartments financed by OelarBank. As Sigvarthur's dead eyes stared at it, it became transformed into symbol of their challenge to his empire. I am being run out of the city I built. Fear and hate smoldering in his dead heart would bring him back to life. All around him an architectonic power shift was signaling an Alvitr takeover. Isleifur was the new Lord Protector, at the helm of the Aircommand. As Oberschlesnitz-Eir Copper ran short of cash, more and more of the company was being bought up by OelarBank.

OelarBank's Vice-president for Mergers and Acquisitions entered his office without knocking. "Hello, grandfather." She had found him transfixed on the new luxury apartment building. "There, that's where Yvo Thorsson Ide lives". The blue translucence of a private television, a rare sign of wealth to so many in Olmolungring, emanated from the building symbolic of a challenge. Before it his son, in a Smitan jersey (but disallowed to yell the 'Iron Eir' chant) was watching his team lose in stunned silence. Pretending to watch the game, Ide was worried. For twenty years a fragile corporate peace had held between the OelarBank, Oberschlesnitz Eir Copper, and the city government. Looking at his geologists' report he was not so sure it could hold.

Of course it was not so secret that Stadhaldr wouldn't tell her grandfather. "The Bank is going to finance a massive diamond mine in East Sindhu if you don't stop them." She always spoke matter-of-factly, and made it a point to tell the truth. It was an unspoken certainty that she would inherit Sigvarthur's fortune now that her uncle Terje was dead. "The government is going to be in league with the Bank. OB will apply for contracts just after the Stoker wedding, so you can be sure all the Alvitrs and the bankers and the ISRA folks will meet each other and smooth it over there. You should probably start expecting them to go after you harder, Sig. You won't see me because I am flying to Franken on business for a few days."

That was not the whole truth, though. The whole truth involved a connection to Trier, a drive to a seaside village, a meeting with a (hopefully quite lonely) prime minister that might save the Eir empire. Aldy was not beautiful but good at making herself seem to be. All her life she expected to be traded off as security in some hostage scenario. But now she was a rare Oelarian heiress; the death of Terje Sigvarthursson had made her too valuable. It had also made it ironic that the man she would tempt to marry her was her uncle's killer.
 

Gunnland

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January 19, 2011

Knytlingsfort, OLR. Sigvarthur Dead-Eye was talking about a quiet palace coup. "You may not like us, Háv, but we are your kin. They are usurping your rightful place won by our ancestors." The robed captain of the Einherjar, Hávi Beornsson, looked hard at the grandfather he seldom saw since his parents' very public divorce. In fact, he had not spoken to his mother, Dagny Sigvarthursdatter, since the day. He was hard and uncompromising, a uniform black-and-white fit him well. "I swear my loyalty to the Lord Rigpa, Grandfather, and that means the Lord Protector, too. Diamonds or no diamonds."

Buxtehude, Eiffelland. Robert, lanky and flaxen-haired, was clean-shaven for the first time in years. Prime Minister Viereskog's girlfriend, Kristin Jónsdatter, secretly liked it. Secretly, she thought, it was the only thing good about moving to Buxtehude. Living with Robert Petursson was somehow scandalous, even if she shared a room with Kaia Josefsdatter. The pressure caused fights. In their last one, she told Robert she was thinking about becoming a nun. Stressed and tired from telephone calls with Isleifur about a high-profile rape trial and a summit of non-aligned leaders, the overwhelmed young prime minister hadn't taken the news too well.

East Sindhu Correctional Center, OLR. A day ago, Geijer had been informed of the Lord Protector Isleifur's decision. Rikarthur would serve a life sentence in Olmolungring's only prison, for the rape of Margarethe Hjovarthursdatter Alvitr. Doomed was an awful feeling.

Knytlingsfort, OLR. Justice was an awesome feeling, better than vengeance. Margarethe did not thank her brother; Isleifur was probably under some emotional duress that needed Mariann's attention. But she told her fiancé. Gregor Samonsson frowned uncomprehendingly. He had seen the inside of East Sindhu.

Over Wiessereich. Stadhaldr did a double-take when she saw Rikarthur Gregorsson Geijer on the flight from Erlangen, Franken to Trier, Eiffelland. I am on a plane with a rapist! Once or twice they narrowly averted making eye contact. But Oelarians were seldom seen on international flights, and both of them knew that the other knew that they were on the plane.

Buxtehude, Eiffelland. Hours before, Thorlákur read Isleifur's letter in the peace of his Oikawan tea garden. After some time, he clenched it into his weathered fist, imagining he was directing the sea air with his fingertips to some single point in the middle of his palm. Constricting a man like that to live out his life in one dimension: time. Without space. No. The LORD judged His judges.

Mimir Abbey, Klostersoya, OLR. The secret meeting was going nowhere. "Diamond hoarders or not, Alasdair, Isleifur is a good man. Thorlákur Feargusson told me so." The skycommander nodded at the nameless, ancient Mimir. "Your nephew Robert has a lot to learn from the Lord Rigpa. Me too. There are so many things that caught me by surprise..."

Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. One of those surprises, Education & Welfare Minister Matteus Langbarthursson Eir (for he had reprised his name), sat under the romantic shadow of the Geirtrae planning a Lutheran wedding with his fiancé, Ella Koch. A wedding in Franken; another morsel for the insatiable tabloids!
 
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January 19, 2011
Nürnberg


The very fact that two persons from Oelar, who had been marked as ‘VIP’ by Franconian intelligence, were travelling to visit the Rigpa had caused some stir in the governmental quarters of Nürnberg. Since the Ministerpresident put his full trust in his senior deputy’s insight into Oelar, matters concerning the northern neighbour were directly forwarded to the freshly created earl at the helm of the Foreign Office. Unless something very grave happened in Oelar, the Foreign Minister and Deputy Ministerpresident was put in charge. Robert Beaumont von Miltenberg nervously ran his hand through his hair and suppressed a sarcastic laughter. Relative to its own power Oelar demanded a lot of attention. Was it politically necessary or was it just the vanity of dominating another country on part of Franken?

Geijer and Stubbe en route to Eiffelland […] Knýtlingsfort assets suggest connection to the OelarBank mining plan, which is threatening Oberschlesnitz Copper Eir […] Contacted Eiffelland-based colleagues. […]

In a nutshell, the LND report informed the Minister they would increasingly pay attention to movements between Eiffelland and Oelar. In fact, spying on the prime minister and any other rebellious elements among the Rigpa’s entourage wouldn’t be easy but a very delicate matter. If the Eiffellander authorities weren’t consulted, they’d be very upset. Foreign Minister Graf Beaumont von Miltenberg didn’t want to push his luck.

The earl took his phone and made two calls. Firstly, he got in touch with his cabinet colleague Steffi Sedlaty, Minister for Transport. They discussed the pro’s and con’s of allowing a direct connection between Knýtlingsfort and the rest of the world. “Right on the spot I cannot think of any sustainable argument for forcing the Oelarians to fly via Erlangen. Sure, it earns the Erlangen airport some handy monopoly returns. Yet I believe there’s potential in promoting the expansion of the Knýtlingsfort airport. Why shouldn’t Franconian construction companies get their fair share? Why shouldn’t reliable Franconian investors buy stakes in the airport operating company?”

Secondly, he dialed the Prince Regent’s number and asked him how the Knýtlings’ own conglomerate called was doing. “If I recall correctly, you have a mining enterprise in your corporate collection, don’t you? Have they thought about expansion plans recently,” Graf Beaumont von Miltenberg proposed. “Well, I’m not involved in the Knýtling Beteiligungsgesellschaft’s daily operations. My younger brother Uwe is seeing to our family’s interests in his capacity as the chief supervisor. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to give me FRO’s CEO’s number.”


January 20, 2011
Knýtlingsfort


Apart from running several mining operations scattered throughout the world FRO also maintained a wholesale division, which purchased both materials FRO couldn’t exploit in its own mines and to occasional cover excessive demand its mines couldn’t cover. The Oelarian branch office of Fränkische Rohstoffe was staffed with twelve people: There were four engineers to ensure some technical expertise for the purchases the six procurement agents arranged. They were supervised by the managing director of Fränkische Rohstoffe Knýtlingsfort GmbH, which was the branch’s full title. The remaining position was filled out by a twenty-something local girl acting as executive assistant. Transport was handled via more or less cheap Oelar forwarding companies.
The MD, 32-year-old Dr. Friedrich ‘Fritz’ Lessing, was often bored and frustrated. Despite his immediate supervisor continuously claiming the contrary, Lessing firmly believed Lady Fortune dropped him in this potential career dead-end. As the job wasn’t very challenging intellectually – his employees were pretty good and had some routine – he spent the better part of the work day pondering whether Lisa – he could neither spell, pronounce nor memorise her actual name – was a spook or just one very hapless college graduate. Who else would end up as an executive assistant to an irrelevant branch office manager?

His cell phone rang – it was his boss. “You wouldn’t believe who called me today, Fritz. What I have been preaching you is finally becoming real: Top management asked me what I think about you and your leadership skills. Turns out they want to expand in Knýtlingsfort. Obviously they are looking for an alternative to Belmont, whose erratic leadership isn’t promising stable conditions for business. Anyway, they don’t want to cause any unwanted attention. That’s why top management stressed you will continue to directly report to me. Tomorrow or on Saturday I’ll come to Knýtlingsfort to discuss the details. To prepare yourself you could try to find out as much as possible about the OelarBank’s plans to enter the mining business themselves.”

Needless to say, Dr. Fritz Lessing’s boredom and frustration vaporized. Instead, his old vigor and ambition, which helped him earn a good PhD in economics as well as land him this reasonably paid job, resurfaced.
 

Gunnland

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January 20, 2011

Buxtehude, Eiffelland. Robert and Stadhaldr were having lunch in a quaint little coffee shop in the village. The girls in their twenty-somethings - Robert Petrusson's girlfriend Kristin cross-legged on the bed, her friend Kaia next to her in a Discs sweatshirt, and the rigpa's niece Gretchen painting her toenails - had no shortage of gossip. (Gretchen) "She was a fox back in Yungdrung Gutsak, do you remember?" (Kristin) "Yes hold on. So she just arrives and says, prime minister..." (Kaia) "I still can't believe Rob is the prime minister, but sorry, go on..."(Kristin) "She says, Prime Minister Viereskog, I want to talk about my uncle Terje." (Kaia) "She flew all the way here to have the most awkward conversation in the world?" (Kristin) "I know, Kaia. I know. Seriously." (Kaia) "At least it's probably not as awkward as the one Professor Geijer is about to have with poor Katja Benjaminsdatter...! Sorry, Tine. I know it bothers you." (Gretchen) "Seriously though, hellfire, can you imagine?"

Hilversum, Batavië. Akwesasne? Nothing about the distant United Territories was part of Fergus Ulfsson Gunnr's daily briefing. At a break from business with the Northern Council, Foreign Minister Roerich asked Sváva to explain. "Yeah, Niels, it says right here. Sent to the Foreign Office, quote: 'Esteemed Prime Minister, May I begin be expressing how pleased I am from your part that there is another nation in Europe ready to make a committment to progressively stamping out the tyranical system that is Oikawa and Franken's CON'..." Roerich shook his head and exhaled sharply, as if to almost laugh. Prime Minister Viereskog had not taken long to make his first power move. "OK, Svá, forward this to Beaumont and tell him it's something we're exploring, but not to overestimate Rob's rhetoric. Then get Fergus on the phone. Game's up." At times like these, Niels wondered why he was working for these people.

Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. Sváva Pallsdatter could not get her cousin Fergus Ulfsson on the phone because the ministry's Meridian Europe desk officer was in a meeting with the Education & Welfare Minister. Matteus Langbarthursson Eir was concerned not only for his career but his life. "Father Ma-... sorry, Matteus Langbar-Langbarthursson I don't think my uncle Pall sees eye to eye with the Mimir, but maybe my cousin the Lord Provost could intervene on your behalf... He need not have worried. A man of the Great War - of the Oelarian resistance movement - the Mimir was not a pacifist, not one for cloak and dagger solutions, and also not one to hesitate.

Over in East Sindhu, OLR. Looking out the window of the OelarBank executive helicopter, Dr. Fritz Lessing was surprised to see two Aircommand Oelar interceptor-fighters - identifiable for their AΩ on the tail - drop in from out of the clouds to escort their surveying mission. Turning to a deathly pale Chairman Ide, who suddenly stopped talking about his son's problems in school, Lessing guessed no escort had been called for. As a panicked Yvo Thorsson leaned forward to ask the pilot what was happening, a curious thought came to Lessing. This was exactly the kind of harrowing disaster I have been wishing for. Nonetheless, he closed his eyes and hugged his briefcase tightly when the machine guns opened fire.

Buxtehude, Eiffelland. At that very moment, in the kitchen of the Oikawischer Garten house, Geijer clasped his wife in a dreadful embrace. Overwhelming emotions, contradictory emotions, flowed between them. The rigpa, listening to the sound of a little waterfall in his garden, knew them all.
 

Gunnland

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January 21, 2011
Knýtlingsfort


That night, the Eir militiamen who usually stood beneath the concrete pillars of the elevated portion of OLR-1, the country's only highway that surrounded the city of Knytlingsfort itself, were strangely absent. Tentatively and gradually, like feral creatures, half-frozen ragged beggars and persistent street vendors, wily pickpockets as well as desperate thugs crossed an invisible line that separated the city from its impoverished outskirts.

Feeling quite lucky to be alive and entertaining the idea of fleeing the country for Franken, Yvo Thorsson was trying to figure out why two Aircommand fighters had fired warning shots over their helicopter. The bimbo was working on it. Fritz Lessing had a thought that did not occur to Ide at first, namely, What country's air force opens communication with civilian aircraft via 30 mm revolver cannons? After a while, the bimbo had an answer. "Aircommand Oelar has requisitioned the site for top secret military maneuvers for an indefinite period." Yvo immediately became hysterical. What? The diamond mine site? Since when? "The announcement was sent to Corporate yesterday, Mr. Chairman. And here, a public announcement - 'For your safety do not fly civilian aircraft into the drill area, as drilling pilots may presume them to be hostiles'". But the bimbo swore she had not seen that announcement come across her desk or in her e-mail the previous day. When Chairman Ide took her into his office to fire her, she broke the news that the police had issued a travel warning in certain areas of the city. This was a warning she had definitely received.

Why his father had not come home the night previous, Reithartýr Yvosson Ide neither knew nor cared. Another call girl, probably. He smiled at the scandal of it all, of driving to the southern edge of the city for his cocaine connection. But what was all the commotion about today? Reithart leaned on the horn of his FMW coupe at the riffraff that kept darting across the street, which made it impossible to drive at the usual speed. Wasn't he far out enough for there to be paras usually on this street? He was relieved, at least, to see not paramilitaries but eight or so cloaked Swordbrothers off to the right, standing in the streets with submachine guns drawn. A shadow passed over his sleeves and the steering wheel. He turned just as two Swordbrothers slammed their rifle-butts through his driver's side window.
 
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January 22, 2011
Yungdrung Gutsak


“They seriously sent two fighters to welcome the OelarBank helicopter!? I have been working here for a bit, but they never cease to amaze me,” Valerian Poller mused. It was actually a rhetoric question, not meant for the young lady sitting behind the opposite side of his desk. The Chief of Security and senior Franconian spook had invited her to his office, as she was the designated successor to Ella Koch. Until she had arrived, Poller was busy digging through the raw data of the ‘East Sindhu incident’ and taking some notes for his staff, who would turn the raw data into an intelligence dossier for Nürnberg et al.

Elisabeth ‘Lisa’ Frauburg, who was clothed in a neatly cut business dress, nonchalantly crossed her legs. The 25-year-old girl was identical with Fritz Lessing’s executive assistant of unquestionable Oelarian origin. The LND was very good at setting up legends for their operatives. Until Koch’s departure from official service Frauburg was controlled by the ‘corporate affairs’ division of the Landesnachrichtendienst. As she proved to be a very talented fledgling spy, Poller selected her for his own team.
“Lisa, considering the ridiculously filled bags of money Fränkische Rohstoffe will put into the diamond mining business: you will continue to faithfully serve and protect Dr. Lessing. I fear he is a bit naïve and light-headed. As soon as FRO Knýtlingsfort starts expanding, you will have to convince Fritz Lessing ought to expand his executive office’s staff. I don’t doubt you will be able to convince him to appoint his chief of staff and director of Human Resources. You will be put at the helm of a team of operatives who will be working as members of middle management and engineers. We will infiltrate middle management of Oberschlesnitz Copper Eir, too,” he told Frauburg, who was quite delighted about her promotion.

Sebastiansburg

The family home of the Kochs was abuzz with activity, since Ella Koch and her younger sister were commanding friends and family who were helping to prepare the house for the upcoming wedding. Koch was from a middle-class background, but her parents assured her they would ensure the ceremony would be memorable. With a ranking foreign government minister being the groom, however, the Landeskriminalamt’s personal security division set up a temporary headquarters in Sebastiansburg, which was Schlesnitz town right at the border to Oelar.

The only prominent representative of the Crown at the marriage would be the Foreign Minister himself, accompanied by his fiancée Elsa de Dreux. “Well, it was an avoidable mistake. Although I’m happy you found a good companion and future wife in Lady de Dreux, please do not forget who of you two is about twenty years old and who should know better. You are the Oelar-expert of my cabinet,” Ministerpresident Graf Solms told Beaumont von Miltenberg upon their discussion of the Foreign Minister’s overly eager and way too blunt . Thus it was decided Foreign Minister Robert Beaumont von Miltenberg would convey Minister Eir Franken’s congratulations.

Nürnberg

This Saturday afternoon, when he contemplated the issue at hand, Beaumont was determined to pull himself together and reserve the excessive eagerness for the bedroom. “Papa,” Josefine kissed her father’s cheek and threw herself on the large couch, “turn on Radio Franken 1, please. It’s only a minute till the football matches start. And don’t you ruin the afternoon by pondering and showing a sullen face. Our favourite club FC Franken Erlangen is gaining momentum once more.”​
 

Gunnland

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January 22, 2011

Knýtlingsfort, OLR. If you were 'on the outs' in K-fort, that could also mean you lived in the run-down neighborhoods and shantytowns on the outer side of OLR-1. Black SUVs (the standard for successful criminals and Campanile-run narcotics rings that smuggled cocaine into Franken) carried Lord Sigvarthur to one of the Eir safehouses where the Ide boy was being held. He hadn't been on the Outside for many years. But he had awoken to a world that had kicked his clan at its weakest moment. You didn't respond with gentle treatment. Sig looked the soft-bodied, tired-looking Reithartýr Yvosson up and down a few times. "Can you deliver a message to your father for me, son?" The boy nodded his assent. "Good. 'Retire.'" Sigvarthur looked up, smirking, and two militiamen went to work smashing the boy's face.

Buxtehude, Eiffelland. Kristin Jónsdatter Fremhjalp was in love with Robert Petursson Viereskog, although she found the 23 year-old's rise to become prime minister bewildering. (And so it was.) She had spent some years restoring her friendship with Kaia Josefsdatter Ulfvan after a drunken and ill-conceived tryst with her longtime boyfriend. And she went to Buxtehude with the mission of fending off the exquisitely beautiful Gretchen Seumasdatter Gunn. And then Stadhaldr Jebsdatter Stubbe appeared, literally out of thin air. Anyone that knew Rob's weakness for women as well as she did would understand it would be a difficult struggle now that he had stumbled into power, at least formally.

Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. "I am afraid I have provoked Sig by allowing the Bank to develop that new mine..." "And on top of that to contract the Franconians," said Bishop Zebulon, advancing a pawn. A dark cloud hung over their weekly game. Concern showed itself on Lord Alvitr's face. "We are getting complex signals, that brush-up with the Aircommand, and now some restive Swordbrothers said they 'found' Chairman Ide's son beat within a half-inch of losing his life." Zebulon raised his eyebrows. Well, if I was the Mimir, I would be angry losing my most powerful subaltern to a Franconian spy, too. But not that angry. "Hjovarthur, you know, you really should warn Isleifur to keep an eye on his Einherjar." The captain, Hávi Beornsson Eir, was a good man. But blood was a strangely magnetic substance. It would not be the first time the palace guard dispatched the lord of the Freehold to the LORD of heaven prematurely.

Neu Sebastiansburg, OLR. On their way to Sebastiansburg, Matteus had the idea of taking Ella Koch to his uncle's country estate. (After leaving the Order, he could have a family again, which he was slow to realize.) One of the pleasures of their short time together was realizing that they had grown up 20 miles from each other (although this was enough to be worlds apart). It took some explaining. "Lord Sigvarthur doesn't live here, but my cousin Dagny Sigvarthursdatter does. Her mother died giving birth to Terje, God rest his poor soul. She was born to be depressive. In fact, she is so crazy she married my brother Beorn, her first cousin. That didn't last, although my nephew Hávi, thank God, turned out OK. Then she married this defrocked priest Jebediah." He caught Ella's intent, bewildered glare. "Yes, dear, I suppose it runs in the family. That and tragedy."
 
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January 24, 2011
Knýtlingsfort


It turned out that Fritz Lessing was more easily convinced to appoint her his deputy than Elisabeth “Lisa” Frauburg expected. She was sure his decision was only minimally driven by the intention to get her in his bed. Dr. Fritz Lessing’s business acumen was excellent, as far as she had been able to observe, and the senior agent was secretly happy for him he got a chance to prove himself. To prevent him from getting any silly ideas part of her spook legend was her fake marriage to some university clerk. If Lisa was honest to herself, it was also a good way to keep herself on track and disciplined. He was one dashing and handsome guy!

While Lisa had been promoted to deputy managing director in charge of human resources and information technology, she hired a talented Franconian business school postgraduate of 23 years to take over as director of business information technology under her auspices. Georg Escher was the second agent to be placed into FRO Knýtlingsfort. Together with his new boss Lisa he would provide the communication and information support to the new mission, which was appropriately named ‘Stern des Nordens’ after a large diamond owned by the Sovereign. The rest of the team Lisa was to head would be put on the operative level, i.e. further engineers and analysts; altogether she would command a group of nine people.

"I do enjoy working with people of my age or somewhat younger, Lisa. I’m confident you, Georg and the other younger managers you aptly convinced me to hire will make up their lack of experience with ambition and due diligence. How else will young people get their chance? I became MD of foreign division of a major Franconian company only because some bosses believed in my talents," Fritz Lessing calmed Lisa’s fears he would be hesitant to hire Georg Escher.

The upcoming exploration efforts would be supervised by Franconian experts and carried out by Knýtlingsfort-origining heavy machinery. Gradually they would acquire own machinery to set up the mines. Lisa Frauburg smirked involuntarily, as she realized there was little difference from past history: Lords from Franken would command, Oelarian peasants would have the burden. Strictly seen, however, there was one major innovation; the peasants learned how to fly fighter jets and handle modern arms.

Nürnberg

In unison with the Prince Regent Foreign Minister Robert Beaumont von Miltenberg decided not to increase the number of agents placed in Eiffelland to pry on Viereskog and his plotting. Instead they would resort to increased satellite supervision as well as controlling their electronic communication devices. This way there was no need to alert the Eiffellanders, unless Viereskog got involved into something gravely threatening Eiffelland’s or even Franken’s territorial integrity.

Meanwhile, there was an increased exchange of ‘diplomatic messages’ between Franken and Oelar, in particular between young Lady Carla and her peer Prince Sebastian. Two weeks ago an obviously frustrated Sebastian complained about the lack of modern communication devices in Oelarian private households. “Carla can send me only very brief e-mails via the university computer labs and she cannot engage in telephoning via the internet, lest her university’s pries on her communication.” Prinzregent Jakob patted his son’s back. “Well, Sebastian, when I was your age-“, Jakob von Franken told his son in a voice mocking elderly citizens complaining about modern things, “- we had neat small gadgets called pen and paper. Since I’m in a generous mood, please be my guest and feel free to use diplomatic couriers. That way no overly curious Oelarian will peek into your communication.”

That was just another reason why Sebastian Knýtling was looking forward to begin his history studies. Technically speaking it wasn’t even an abuse of royal privilege by using diplomatic couriers for exchange between lovebirds. The hidden leitmotif of Prince Sebastian’s academic studies were to provide the clan lords and other influential figures with an incentive to behave according to Franken’s will.
 

Rheinbund

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Buxtehude, Eiffelland

The Eiffellandian government considered it needed to take care of the Rigpa's and his companions' safety. This task had been assigned to the Staatsschutz. It was the intention to place a permanent post in the neighbourhood, but the Staatsschutz was sensitive enough not to use a container for that. A house in the neighbourhood had been bought as a base, and there were always two cars with Staatsschutz agents in front of the house.
 

Gunnland

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Over Wiessereich. Prime Minister Viereskog had some preparations to make for the non-aligned summit, although he had been dilatory in sending communiques to the interested parties. Part of this was procrastination; he did not want to confront Foreign Minister Roerich. Part - Kristin had cried these very words - was "his recent distraction". She sat beside him on the plane and had been just elected Chairman of the OelarBank Board after the sudden retirement of Y. T. Ide. But she had not told the prime minister this. Better for him to find out on his own. "Like I was saying, Rob, my mother is such a bore."

Neu Sebastiansburg, OLR. Ella sat propped up against the sink, bemused, while a nonplussed Matteus shifted his weight uneasily. Dagny was sitting in the bathtub. Her breasts were concealed by the murky water, and only her knees showed, like little islands, that propped up a copy of the Diamond Sutra. "You could fill the three galaxies with seven jewels, Matt, but the Tathagata says the charity is great because it does not exist... This is what I have been trying to tell you, darling..." Matteus didn't know what to say to that. "I left the Order, Dagny. I was hoping to talk to your husband Jeb about that." Dagny yawned and pretended not to hear.

Erlangen, Franken. Yvo Thorsson checked his voicemail messages in his new apartment overlooking the downtown park where, in a fortunate coincidence, the Terns would be playing. He looked worriedly at his bandaged son. At least Reithartýr will be able to look forward to the Rangers game. One message from a very distressed Lord Alvitr about 'losing his vote' on the OelarBank board. Delete. One message from Fritz Lessing about how this would affect the Bank's deal with FRO. Delete. One message from the Radilan mining concern Louis Picard about... he didn't finish the message. There would be no more trouble for Yvo Thorsson Ide.
 

Radilo

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Knytlingsfort, OLR

Louis Picard, Radilo’s largest mining company, had wanted an in on the rich diamond mines that dotted the northern hemisphere. After a rather lengthy series of negotiations, they had been awarded a set of lucrative contracts by Oberschlesnitz-Eir Copper to operate several of their deep earth mines.

Louis Picard’s Vice President for Northern Europe, Charles Dwbeque, was to oversee the operation of the mines. With shareholders in Radilo anxious over what would be costly investments, his job was to make sure that the operations went as smoothly as possible. To this end, he needed managers and overseers who were loyal and experienced—native Oelarians would not cut the muster with the executives back in Nouveau Port. Because of this, it would be necessary to import Radilans to run the mines.

For Dwbeque it was quite a culture shock. Nouveau Port had its share of poverty, even extreme poverty, but the urban poor Knytlingsfort existed frozen in a bygone era. Even his relatively luxurious townhouse was nothing like the super modern, posh high-rise that he resided in back in uptown Nouveau Port. It didn’t help that he stood out so sorely; he was a large black man, with raven hair that had been acid-treated slick. He wore a crisp pinstripe suite, patent leather shoes, and a considerable amount of jewelry: he shared in his homeland’s unhealthy fetish for diamonds that helped to make his employer’s investments in the north so likely to yield profit.
 
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And [the King] shall live;
And the gold of Sheba will be given to him;
Prayer also will be made for him continually,
And daily he shall be praised. (Psalm 72:15)


January 27, 2011

OelarBank offices
Erlangen, Franken


Nürnberg’s and Würzburg’s respective claim to host the country’s commercial heart was only partially true. Actually there was a third pillar in Franconian commerce. It was Erlangen, which had served as a hub for Oelarian, Slavic and other eastern businesses engaged in Germania, whilst proud Würzburg accommodated the ‘seafaring merchants’, i.e. today’s shipping and commodities related firms, and Nürnberg hosted the national security exchange and a myriad of other national corporations.

Due to the historical and cultural ties between Erlangen, the Duchy of Schlesnitz, OelarBank’s decision to put a second headquarters there was easy to understand, even for financial laymen. On the one hand it was a concession to the fact that Oelar lacked a constant and copious supply of low level financial sector employees as well as sufficiently competent middle management. Consequently only the top-echelons were staffed by highly financially educated Oelarians like OelarBank’s incoming Chairwoman Stubbe. On the other hand, Erlangen and its duchy were home to a sizeable expatriate community of Oelarians, who preferred to entrust their hard-earned money to a bank from the motherland. Ironically most of them would never get in touch with an actual Oelarian behind the service counter.

What’s more, the security services community of Franken benefitted from the dominance of Franconian nationals in the bank’s workforce. That way it was easy to sneak in agents as well as hire assets to gain information. Two of the three Franconian HQ’s managing directors were Oelarians, whilst the third was a more or less cooperating Franconian-born asset for the Reichszoll (REZ – customs authority), which was the law enforcement and security agency mainly in charge of prying into corporate boardrooms. In key locations there were LND operatives, too – such as Lisa, but generally the Reichszoll did the gruntwork of collecting financial intelligence. Via the security and secret service coordination centre the other services were usually informed and/or alerted to any extraordinary issues.

That third managing director cooperated with the Reichszoll, since they promised him not to press money-laundering charges and wouldn’t give his wife a hint about his steady extramarital activities. Today the RZ officer in charge of running the show at OelarBank, Ferdinand Stumpf, learned the new Chairwoman wanted to see the contracts with FRO scrapped as soon and smoothly as possible. Since His Majesty’s Government was adamant to see a fair share of the diamonds fall to FRO – coincidentally a business interest of the royals themselves, the seasoned officer had a brief dossier with recommendations composed. These were sent to his superiors.
About five hours later Stumpf received word from Nürnberg. The diamond asset, as the managing director was also dubbed, was instructed to have the cancelling procedures stalled. They expected a time advantage of two to three days, depending on how well-connected the new Chairwoman was.

Knýtlingsfort

[…] Initially the loss of financial support by OelarBank will be substituted by liquid assets supplied via the Knýtling Beteiligungen corporate clearance division. According to preliminary calculations this may suffice until one of our closest partner banks, Guttenberg Bank, can issue another corporate bond. […] We are confident you will be able to deal with the increased total costs and generate the revenue we expect from your managerial talent. […]

Top management had sent Dr. Lessing that message as after he had discussed the OelarBank issue with his immediate supervisor. “Ah great, these Oelarians are quite a handful,” Fritz Lessing exclaimed. “Well, there’s the ultimate challenge you were looking for, Herr Doktor Lessing. If you demonstrate a good performance, you might make it on the short list for a top management position,” his young deputy Lisa Frauburg retorted. Unless her memory betrayed her, held about 14 % of the bank’s shares and one board seat. Guttenberg Bank CEO Michael G.A. Will or just ‘Mike Will’ held the non-executive director position himself.​
 

Gunnland

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Knýtlingsfort, OLR. "How can we fight injustice if Lord Reeve Stoker is in bed with the Alvitrs, and the Alvitrs are in bed with the Franconian corporations, and the Bank, and Lord Eir?" The loud question awkwardly silenced the first public school board meeting, like a loud fart at a funeral. The roiling grumbles of the workingmen that followed were irrepressible.

Dovre, OLR. "They can't transport the machinery out there via ice road anyway in the middle of the winter. I will lift our requisition order when that Eir heiress promises us 15% of the cut and gets Stoker and the ISRA boys to stop pushing the Swordbrothers around. It's getting crazy around here with Thorlákur gone. Who is in charge anymore?" Robert Petursson's uncle, surrounded by an impressive coterie of Aircommand officers, was adamant. The prime minister nodded. "Very well, Skycommander. But what if I told you that I asked her to marry me?"

Knýtlingsfort, OLR. Stadhaldr Jebsdatter had no idea Prime Minister Viereskog had asked her to marry her, because he hadn't. Nor did she have the idea that her thought, in this context, would be an oblique innuendo: It is no use owning the actual site of a diamond mine without a company intending to drill it. Having just canceled the FRO deal, Chairwoman Stubbe planned to contract the Radilan conglomerate Louis Picard to develop the site. "The blacks" she called them. (There might be a shareholder revolt over conflict of interest, she reasoned, if she gave the contract to OEC.) But there remained the problem of the Aircommand requisition order, which Skycommander Viereskog had not yet lifted. Why not? Her immediate thought was to sue, but then she realized the case would be heard either by Lord Protector Isleifur or the Lord Reeve of Knýtlingsfort, Gregor Samsonsson Stoker. The Alvitrs were the law.

Neu Sebastiansburg, OLR. The bathroom audience with Dagny Sigvarthursdatter was useful if just to learn the 'family situation' with his cousin Stadhaldr, OEC, FRO, OelarBank, and KBG. Ella found herself listening more closely. "Dead-Eye" - this was the same nasally pronunciation of 'Daddy' which was Lord Sig's nickname - "was absolutely livid, but he has calmed down some now. He will go up to Humdrum Shitsack - this was the capital's vulgar nickname - with Aldy to meet Lord Hjovarthur and Lord Protector Isleifur and this Herr Doktor Lessing fellow from FRO and they will all get it sorted out." Matteus furrowed his brow, trying to keep track of all the acronyms. Was this really all the dreaded 'diamond war' would turn out to be? "Those Franconian corporations are even more incestuous than our family, darling!" Matteus withered at the joke. They have to be missing something. "Say, Matt, darling, haven't the Swordbrothers tried to kill you, yet?"

Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. The school board meeting was being described as a full-fledged political insurgency of the ISRA/ILO rank-and-file by the time it reached the party leadership in the capital. The radical party chairman, Burgrave Sýmeon, called an emergency meeting of the troika at The Spot. Transport Minister Gutkind arrived late, apologizing. The quiet Burgrave Hvít was most worried of all, pushing back his receding hairline. His rural accent had a sing-songy quality, "Alasdair, Filip, I hate to say this, but, you know, I think we're going to have to kick Gregor out of the party..." Gutkind interrupted. "Fuck the poet." He banged his hand on the table for dramatic effect. "Call up our paras, it's our party. Now is the time our class enemies are divided and confused. Take the streets from the militias and let's organize in every mine. Stoker can't stop what he started."
 

Radilo

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Knýtlingsfort, OLR

Charles DeBrough was a very hands on person; he like to get in the nitty-gritty of things. He was also enthusiastic about learning how things worked, and was always looking for something new. He arrived in OLR with a bachelor’s degree in engineering and a few years managing in a silver mine under his work belt. He was timely, observant, loyal, and above all sharp; this is why he was chosen to manage part of one of the mines Louis Picard had been subcontracted to run.

His day would be part spent in the mine, making sure things were in working order, and spent part in the office.

At night he hoped to be able to keep up on the lifestyle that he had in Nouveau Port, with ample gallivanting and shenanigans. There was going to be a small contingent of his fellow countrymen residing in Knýtlingsfort, so at least he would have a base of acquaintances. However, he also wanted to interact with native Oelarians. He, though, shared the problems of his superior Dwbeque; he stood out. This seemed to be a theme of Radilan interaction with any nation so far north.



“This is your office, sir. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Not now, thank you.”

DeBrough liked his new office, it was more spacious then his office back home. His new Oelarian secretary also had a nice little body. He intended to keep everything professional, though, at least for the time being. The first shift was going to be arriving in an hour or so. Today would be an opportunity for him, his crew, and the mine to get acquainted.

He hadn’t had much sleep over the past two days, it was a long flight from DeGinghs* to OLR, and he was still feeling jetlagged. He got to his new townhouse the night before and went strait to bed… well he had a few cocktails courtesy of the duty free shop, then he went to bed.

He paged his new secretary to get him a double espresso.


*Nouveau Port's main airport
 
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1 The LORD said to my Lord,
“Sit at My right hand,
Till I make Your enemies Your footstool.”
2 The LORD shall send the rod of Your strength out of Zion.
Rule in the midst of Your enemies! (Psalm 110)



January 29, 2011

Yungdrung Gutsak

Matteus Eir’s intuition was quite right. The Franconians had missed something or rather somebody. A very peculiar ambitious young man.

“What? He got back and you only told me now?! What a big load of crap,” Valerian Poller was infuriated. The chief of security and Franconia’s supreme spook had just learned the prime minister was back in Oelar from his exile in Eiffelland. “Well, since top management in Nürnberg was hesitant to provide Viereskog with the full service package lest Eiffelland be irritated or even aggravated, we had to set some priorities,” Poller’s liaison officer with the central intelligence commission of Franken explained. Valerian Poller struck his goatee, pondering the available facts. “Fair enough, I grant you that. Since Viereskog is obviously keen on striking a political marriage of sorts with Stadhaldr, we might have some leverage due to our intelligence about OelarBank’s new chief executive. Last but not certainly not least we have this pesky requisition order by the Aircommand. If I recall correctly, our agent Lisa Frauburg will accompany her boss Dr. Lessing. Anyway, thanks for the heads up. Here in Oelar we have enough wiggling room to efficiently tail both. Goodbye.” Poller hung up the phone.

Instantly he dialed the cell phone number of Lisa Frauburg and asked her to meet him in one of the Franconians’ safe houses in Knýtlingsfort the next morning. There he told her about the plan for the hearing before the Lord Protector. “It would be of no use to send the ambassador with you, since it would make your Dr. Lessing suspicious. Furthermore, the ambassador is a good and competent guy, who isn’t so much into the spook business. Instead you will be joined by the embassy’s senior legal counsel, who’s probably the best Franconian Oelarian law specialist available here, and four MAD roughnecks. Officially they’re part of the embassy security detail. During the mission they’ll directly report to you.” Lisa Frauburg nodded. “Should I approach the regent openly?” It took a while until Poller answered his fledgling agent’s question. “It’s difficult to tell. Based on what we know about him Christian Alvitr has the appearance of a bookworm yet he is as cunning as any good politician behind that surface. If he has a slow day, do give him a broad hint.”

Neu Sebastiansburg, OLR

Neither the broader field of economics nor business management had ever appealed to Ella Koch. Thus her knowledge about aristocratic enterprises was marginal and restricted to what she could remember from news stories and history books. “In a nutshell, the six major houses, including our royal house, have always been keen on not only live from the meager rents they gain from landownership. Since the five non-royal houses and the royal house are united via the hereditary great offices of state, I guess it only took one or two of them to become an industrial captain to make the others follow.”

Her old spook intuition was still working well, that was why she asked her fiancée the question about his former order companions.

Knýtlingsfort

“Herr Will,” Fritz Lessing hadn’t expected the senior bank manager to arrive so quickly, “what a pleasant surprise! We were expecting you tomorrow. Nonetheless, please have a seat.” Despite Michael G. A. Will’s short built, the leader of Franken’s eminent privately controlled Guttenberg Bank had an impressive presence. Mike Will’s receding hairline betrayed his 48 years of age, although he tried to conceal it by wearing a very shortly cut hairstyle. His suit was exquisitely tailored and in light blue. “Thank you, I do believe we need the time to discuss our plan and agenda for the upcoming financial and entrepreneurial challenges. You might wonder why on earth the top manager of Guttenberg Bank comes here to help you, the COO of a lowly corporate subdivision. Let’s put it that way: Diamonds are not only girls’ best friends. Cheers,” Mike Will’s original Anglyn accent was mollified by more than two decades of living in Franken, but it was still recognizable. Will and the apparently flattered Lessing enjoyed a helping of Oelarian whisky until Lessing’s deputy Lisa arrived.

As usually Dr. Lessing failed to pronounce Lisa Frauburg’s Oelarian cover name correctly. However, she noticed Will raised an eyebrow when her boss introduced her as a talented Oelarian business manager. It seemed he knew something about the more clandestine aspects of the diamond sector. “Before I forget to mention it: I do intend to stay in Knýtlingsfort for a while. Since I oversee Guttenberg Bank’s notable investments department beside being the bank’s chief executive, our stake in OelarBank, my bank’s interest in your business and a few other factors justify a longer stay.”
 

Gunnland

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Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. There were about ten lawyers and jurists all told in Olmolungring, the gloomy Oelarian legal expert - who had one of the best sinecures in the Franconian bureaucracy - explained. Why? Because the lex talionis was quite important and did not require third parties to arbitrate. No amount of thalers would assuage fears that Sigvarthur Dead-Eye was going to start the first open clan war since the 1970s. Just as Lessing's adviser had suspected, Lord Eir told the lords the Freehold that OelarBank would transfer the property to OEC, which would subcontract Louis Picard to drill to the mother lode under the remote site. Blood glistens brighter than blood, the Oelarians said. Lord Alvitr put his hand on his son's arm and whispered worriedly. "Chris?" Lord Protector Isleifur knew what he meant, and looked at Lessing helplessly. They all wanted to judge the expression on his face.

One hour beforehand, at Issverth Station. Fritz's mobile telephone rang and an unfamiliar voice with breathy s's and a slight lisp sounded in the receiver. "Herr Doktor Lessing?" [...] "Chairman Alasdair Jónstyrsson Sýmeon of the Intersectionalist State Reform Authority" [...] "Yes), ISRA, that's(th) right. That's(th) why I am calling, Dr. Lessing, I heard you were coming. I was hoping you could pay a discrete visit to party headquarters after that meeting." [...] "No! No secrets(th). I thought you would be interested to know that we were stepping up our organizing efforts(th) in the mines. We expect we will have to nationalize quite a few of them, you know, and we want to spare you any inconvenience(th) in that regard. Oh, and of course we will need a corporate partner to develop the nationalized sites." [...] "Thanks(th), that's(th) all I ask. Just think about it. But don't expect a better deal from our spineless gentry.

Strange bedfellows indeed. Lessing stared blankly back at Lord Alvitr, Lord Protector Isleifur, and the Eirs who were warily watching him. He was deep in thought, with major decisions to make.

Pólharvatn Diamond Mine, OLR. Twenty semi-permanent tents with "OEC" on the top and a few trailers with cardboard signs that said "LOUIS PICARD" surrounded by yellow-painted heavy mining equipment - that's all White Rabbit Mine was. That and an ice runway. There, a few Radilan engineers oversaw drilling into kimberlite pipes deep beneath White Rabbit Lake (Pólharvatn), the most productive diamond mine in Meridian Europe. Two dozen men in green jackets, ISRA paramilitaries, hopped off an unscheduled plane on the aerodrome with their guns already drawn. But the mine security consisted of six men with binoculars who watched for the rare snow leopard, feral mastiffs, but mostly for avalanches. Thirty seconds later, Officer Harald Sýmonsson Hrodgunnr was showing his credentials to the Radilan mine manager. "Random mine inspection, darkie. Let's move."

But even if every toilet seat and mine camp prostitute was clean as a whistle, even if all 200 miners were card-carrying accredited union members (highly unlikely!), Chairman Sýmeon had decided just after hanging up on Lessing that the mine would fail its inspection.

Ljonyja Iron Mine, OLR. On the outskirts of Neu Sebastiansburg - close enough that the paramilitaries could be seen from the Eir estate - was the largest FRO-managed iron ore mine in Europe. As Matteus and Ella got in their 4x4, they watched four green tracked vehicles with 'ISRA' painted in white on the side driving outwards from the center of town towards the FRO mine. Ella might not know much about business, but she was fairly sure she had heard Matt say something about that mine. A Franconian mine. As it happened, just as Fritz Lessing and his coterie were arriving to meet Chairman Sýmeon at ILO Party Headquarters in Yungdrung Gutsak, Officer Cornelius Konstantinsson Stigeskaper was demanding the papers of the Franconian foreman at the mine. Unbeknown to his fellow paras, Officer Stigeskaper was under strict orders to report the mine inspection results immediately back to Chairman Sýmeon, personally.
 
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ILO Party Headquarters
Yungdrung Gutsak


“Who am I? Who am I, Lisa? I’m not a friggin’ spook or politician, Lisa,” Fritz Lessing’s anxiety briefly burst out when he had finished the call with Symeon. “What game is that?” Very much to Lisa Frauburg’s surprise Mike Will affectionately patted younger businessman’s shoulder. “See, Herr Lessing –“, his sonorous voice and his slight Anglynian accent helped Lessing to re-collect his senses and self-control, “ – there’s that kind of business and this kind of business. From a certain level of management on there’s always politics involved. I do recall your ambition is to become a major corporation’s chief executive, isn’t it? Just consider your beautiful and smart deputy, Miss Volandeir, and me your training wheels for the challenges to come. You’re business acumen is just fine.” Unseen by Lessing, whose mood was visibly brightening and who was busy thinking of some strategies to go by, Will winked at Frauburg.

Once the Eirs had left the Lord Protector’s, Fritz Lessing explained his plans to the Lord Protector and his father. “Actually my country’s business community has copious experience of dealing workers’, their organisations and unions. There’s a reason why our market system is organised by the principles of the Social Market, whose roots date back to the late 19th century. Of course I’m not gullible enough to assume they’ll suddenly heed our advice in return for money and social security. But I’m pretty sure they have some Achilles heel we could use as a basic leverage if they became too unwilling to cooperate. If you can’t think of one at once, do feel free to contact my office and/or tell the Franconian embassy that you want to get in touch with me.” He didn’t notice his deputy Lisa was scratching her chin. Frauburg recalled LND had retrieved some rumours suggesting a rift between Stoker, the Lord Protector’s brother-in-law-to-be, and the ILO. The facts were too vague to justify any action on her part, nevertheless. Her gut feeling told her to tighten Lessing’s reins if necessary, so to say.

“Good evening, Herr Symeon. It’s a pleasure for me. This charming lady is Miss Anna-Elizabeth Hendriksdottir Volandeir, who is my senior deputy manager in charge of Human Resources and IT, and the gentleman is called Michael G.A. Will, Chairman of the Board of Executives of Guttenberg Bank, which sees to financing FRO Knýtlingsfort’s Oelarian expansion plans. Furthermore, as Mike Will oversees his bank’s corporate investment division he’s also a non-executive director of OelarBank,” Dr.
Friedrich Lessing introduced his company.

After a very brief exchange of pleasantries, Lisa turned to Symeon. “You see, the idea of the state setting obligatory guidelines for enterprises how to treat their employees isn’t alien to us. In fact, it has been an inherent part of Franconia’s economy for over a century. The idea of workers and entrepreneurs jointly running corporations isn’t strange to us, either. In fact, in our very particular business sector Franconian law requires our mother company Fränkische Rohstoffe AG to assign one half of the supervisory board to union-selected candidates. Moreover, they nominate the candidate for the post of executive director of human resources. In a nutshell, while we were surprised to hear from you, we are very open to any deals which include a fair share of the burden.”

With an efficient cost and time management the ILO’s yield from the mines could become a handy lump sum. Fritz Lessing did wonder whether he’d have to wrap up those hard-sounding technical terms of management in sweet talk or Symeon didn’t turn away in disgust if he heard managerial speak.

Ljonyja Iron Mine, OLR

As the management team at the mine had instructions to cooperate with the authorities, entitled by law or by virtue of the weaponry, neither the mine supervisor nor the foremen caused the ILO paramilitaries any trouble. Conveniently there was a LND asset among the foremen, who quickly informed Georg Escher, who in turn noticed his boss Frauburg.

Sie haben eine neue Nachricht – You have a new message. The display of Frauburg’s satellite mobile phone flashed and it vibrated in her pocket.


EDITED
 

Gunnland

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Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. Illness reminds us of our finitude, our vulnerability, the contingency of our existence upon other people. Prime Minister Viereskog considered that Europeans were more violently ill, ill more often, and ill for longer periods of time in the preceding centuries. Medical advances had gone hand in hand with a prideful blindness to some of the existential realities of human life, namely, that human beings die and need others. Consumed with these thoughts, Robert Petursson did not pause to consider whether Foreign Minister Roerich had poisoned his glass of wine at their lunch - he simply assumed it was just the return to the bracing cold of the north. Rob silently reproached himself for ever pursuing Stadhaldr Jebsdatter in the first place, as Kristin Jónsdatter (who had gotten on a plane as soon as he had called) made him sit up and take another sip of cough syrup. At any rate, no Non-Aligned Conference was planned in the capital for the near future, though Viereskog may have helped get the ball rolling in Vangala...

Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. Niels Niklausson Roerich had not, in fact, poisoned Viereskog, but the prime minister's illness was a lucky break. Firstly, it stalled the non-aligned conference fiasco. More importantly, it had destroyed the possibility of a political marriage between the Eir clan and the Viereskog family that would have created a veritable military-industrial complex. But no sooner had one major threat to the balance of power dissipated than another one came into view. Isleifur's voice came over Niels Niklausson's phone. "The man from Fränkische Rohstoffe told my father and I that ISRA is considering nationalizing our holdings in Knýtlingsfort. The Eirs and the Gunns run deep in the military services, but what else does my family have? If they succeed, the age of the clans will be over."

Yungdrung Gutsak, OLR. "The Alvitrs will be forced to choose between siding with the Eirs in this diamond war or with us." Chairman Sýmeon concluded. "I would like you to use any influence you may have with them to make sure they side with us. In return, FRO will be awarded the requisitioned iron ore mines to make up for the very possible retrenchment from your Belmontien holdings."

Knýtlingsfort, OLR. Spartacist Command Oelar, the militant organization that had become the armed wing of ISRA, suddenly had an active headquarters. Officer Stigeskaper was explaining to his staff officers: "We have always had to tiptoe around the Eirs because of their power in the working-class neighborhoods, but no longer. Bringing in the Radilans was a good move if you want to get the Alvitrs and the Franconians out, but the danger is that the people distrust the blacks." Officer Hrodgunnr remembered the black Radilan mine manager from Pólharvatn, an abusive, arrogant, and deeply immoral character. Still, thematizing this didn't seem right. "Isn't manipulating the racism of the working class opposed to the whole idea of intersectionalism, comrade?" Apparently that would be a question for after the victory. ISRA had already decided to clear the Eir militias from the streets of Knýtlingsfort by whatever means necessary.
 
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Yungdrung Gutsak

Lisa Frauburg crossed her legs nonchalantly. A quick eye contact with Mike Will told her they had had the same idea. While there was no substantial threat to her cover ID being blown by ISRA intelligence – Franken’s intelligence services were good at crafting legends for agents – she subtly indicated the influential banker it was his turn to talk.

“Their approval would be given more eagerly if we modified your nationalization idea a little bit. Leave the Alvitrs with a 60% stake, you take 40% and FRO takes over operations in return for a handy management fee. With all due respects to your laudable political goals, but they won’t help you manage a company. In the end of the day you need money to pay your militias, maintain your influence in the capital and educate the poor masses. Completely taking control from the Alvitrs won’t use anyone. Eventually they’ll end up alongside the Eirs. Despite my little insights into the realms of power in Nürnberg, it’s very safe to say that the top brass will learn about this conversation and its implications sooner or later. They profit from the very same occasional disloyalty or loquacity you exploit to gain your intelligence. What will they do? Well, my trade is management in general and banking in particular. But it isn’t that difficult to figure out,” Mike Will observed.

Will’s pretended and playful modesty amused Frauburg. In fact he was one of the most influential bankers with the Royal Household, senior government ministers as well as the heads of the major houses. If she recalled correctly, there were a couple of black ops units within the Königliche Streitkräfte. They could easily be deployed to make an example for the ISRA.

Nürnberg

Don Pedro was the name of the most popular South West Meridian cuisine restaurant in the government quarters of Franken’s capital. It was run by a naturalized Coronadian, who was an aspiring and industrious young chef. His guests were served exquisite Coronadian dishes; sometimes he used tweaked traditional recipes and sometimes even daring mixes of Franconian and Coronadian cuisine.

“It’s funny how Franken tends to be an attractive exile for foreign royalists, isn’t it? At least this guy is ingenious at his trade,” Foreign Minister Robert Beaumont von Miltenberg told Prince Regent Jakob, who he was meeting for a business lunch. Indeed, said chef was a raving rebellious royalist, who dreamed of installing a monarchy in Coronado. This got him kicked out of Coronado. “Alas, there are too few of them to make a difference for their cause. Anyway, you told me those socialists were about to seize control of the mines and could run over the Alvitrs in the process, unless they agree to ridiculously strict conditions,” Jakob von Franken remarked.“You are right, your royal highness. Our men and women over there have instructions to try a compromise first. Mike Will is there to personally oversee our financial efforts. But –“, Graf Miltenberg cleared his throat. “ – but our past experience with the Oelarians shows us they sometimes adhere to a different idea of political reason.” Prinzregent Jakob nodded sternly. “They need to realize there is still an iron fist beneath our glove. It would be wise to alert one or two black ops commandos, wouldn’t it?”

“Speaking of which, mein Prinzregent, we have also learned that the Prime Minister of Oelar is currently unable to travel. The non-aligned meeting is bust and his attendance in Vangala isn’t sure. If he attends, Ministerpresident Graf Solms will attend, if he doesn’t Franken’s delegation might be led by Defence Minister Graf Eulenburg.”
 
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