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Scourge of Scorpions: The Diamond War

Gunnland

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The Pretender

Yungdrung Gutsak, O.L.R. Just as he had watched Rigpa Thorlakur do in hundreds of hours of video, Sigbjorn sat stilly and inclined his head at the applause ever so slightly. His beard, which had stubbornly taken two months to grow to Roerich's perfectionist standards - He could be so gay, Sigbjorn thought, reminding him of many friends from his days in the Aren theater - was itching, causing the pretender some annoyance.

Alasdair Symeon was in the political fight for his life. A straw poll of the 50 delegates from all across Olmolungring had been held that showed the pro-treaty faction of the ILO with a razor-thin majority in favor of the new constitution and government, supported by Roerich, Viereskog, and some of the more moderate conservatives. 23-17-10. Of the abstaining ten, four were Swordbrothers in cloaks who had been dubiously elected in show contests in the remote and sparsely-populated Eastern Region. The other six were suspected Eir sympathizers who included one mid-grade retired Skycommand officer who appeared to be calling the shots.

Gutkind, with the solid support of the 15-member delegation from Knýtlingsfort, was earnestly pleading with the neutrals. "Do you remember the days after the War? Do you remember Vidkun Gravplass? Don't you have the courage to resist another fifty years of sham government with the Franconians as puppetmasters? Don't you see the General Secretary has compromised the hope of our Movement? But Knýtlingsfort will stand strong! Have you not heard of our electrification projects, our new water systems, our modernization of mining and industry? What will you tell your children when the last lights go out in Knytlingsfort?"

Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. "POP." At that very moment, the whir and hum of lights and power lines and transformers suddenly stopped all across the city. A silence like the silence that nobody ever missed settled across the darkness of the valley. Over the secure KSK frequency, Hauptmann Erichsen got the go-ahead from his team. Four helicopter rotors powered up just over the Franconian border.

Cutting the lights at nightfall was the signal for the advance team on the ground to go into action as well. The decision had been made by Hans Schaidinger and Cornelius Stigeskaper to get the advance team in SCO trucks and green uniforms into the unsuspecting makeshift prison compound before taking out the hostile assets on the roof with snipers. Contingency plans were drawn up for seizing the compound in the event that the SCO prison guards began to fire on Stigeskaper's men.

Good planning by the KSK officers made the timing impeccable. By the time the sound of the helicopters came in over the horizon, the advance team had reached the Franconian prisoners and two high-value Oelarian targets were identified as well: Gregor Stoker and Stadhaldr Stubbe.

And then it was just a simple matter of disarming some soldiers, neutralizing the hostile SCO units on the roof, and loading the twenty or so prisoners onto the helicopters...
 

Gunnland

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. Ella Eir (née Koch) touched her face where her husband Matteus, the ex-monk and well-connected clansman, had left the lingering trace of a kiss. The lights had still not come back on in their neighborhood.

She had used her LND training to extract some information from Matteus about the strange business at hand, piecing together hints in casual conversation, the call history on his cellular telephone, and the indiscretions of Matteus's crazy cousin Dagny who loved to spill secrets laying naked in her bathtub. It had all become clear. Most of it anyway.

Matteus was meeting in secret with his cousin Hávi, the commander of the Rigpa's Einherjar guard. The two young Eirs had conspired to take their great-uncle Sigvarthur Dead-Eye, the clan lord, captive. Why they were keeping that a secret, Ella did not know at first. But then it became clear - she had discovered this from a bathroom audience with Dagny - that Matteus and Hávi Eir were meeting with the two powerful Viereskogs (Rob, the prime minister, and Alasdair, the skycommander) to divide up power in Oelar's post-constitutional future. The rest was easy to piece together. The plan was to fold the Einherjar under the Skycommand, and create a unified national army, with Matteus as defense minister and Viereskog as prime minister. This would be easy to do in the chaotic transition to constitutional government, especially with the Alvitr family packing up and leaving for a dignified exile in Franken. The Army would then speed the transition and guard the sovereignty of the country, turning Oelar into a nice traditionalist tourist haven with ski slopes and quaint monasteries for tourists to visit.

It sounded like a sane plan, until Ella realized that Lord Sigvarthur's imprisonment would be kept secret only so that the Lord Rigpa - or more appropriately the actor pretending to be the rigpa - could pretend to fight a war against him. A pretender to fight a pretend war. What a peculiar country.
 
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Erlangen, Duchy of Schlesnitz, Franken

About 24 hours after the retrieval operation Lisa Frauburg had provided her superiors with extensive information about the procedures within the makeshift prison, her observations and assessments during her captivity. Frauburg had been granted two weeks of extra vacation by her bosses to allow her to recover from the stress of the past days. It was likely her next assignment would lead her to Boreas or Himyar. For their own security, Mike Will, Guttenberg Bank CEO, Fritz Lessing, FRO Knýtlingsfort boss and the two Oelarians had been brought into a spacious safehouse of the Landesnachrichtendienst somewhere in Erlangen.

While Mike Will and Fritz Lessing were briefed about the legends covering up their lengthy disappearances from the public, Stoker and Stubbe were gently quizzed by two LND operatives respectively. To the LND team Stoker seemed pale and indifferent as if he had still not overcome Margarete Alvitr’s untimely demise. It was more of a political marriage, but Stoker obviously missed her. If he bothered to answer the agents’ questions, his replies were whispered and hard to hear. Stadhaldr Stubbe, however, appeared to burst from anger and the desire to avenge herself. Before the intersectionalists had begun to cause trouble and started their takeover of Knýtlingsfort Stubbe had had the chance to become one of the most powerful women of her country. Today she was at the whim of the friends of her competitors, the Alvitrs. Trying to make the most out of her situation, she wondered aloud whether her hosts’ top bosses had yet considered the fate of the OelarBank Erlangen branch. “Have you ever thought about using it for your goals? With my expertise I could help to reinvigorate your grasp over Knýtlingsfort in particular and Southern Olear in general.” If they took the bait, the ambitious woman could resuscitate her career at the very same time.

Nürnberg, Franken

The Foreign Minister read the political and intelligence dossiers with mixed feelings. On the one hand, they had been able to recover their prominent citizens from Knýtlingsfort and even gained two extra assets, on the other hand Franken’s champion in the Oelarian struggle for power were very likely to be forced to leave the country. It was always bitter to realize you bet your money on the wrong horse, so to say. Graf Beaumont von Miltenberg was also aware that drawbacks were normal in foreign affairs. Only the Lord was omniscient.

After a 30 minute-long telephone conference with the Ministerpresident and the senior spooks of Franken, it had been decided to establish a permanent secret services station in Knýtlingsfort under the auspices of the Landesnachrichtendienst. This permanent branch would succeed the quasi-temporary nature of Frauburg’s organization. The station would be put under the broad cover of the General Consulate which was planned to be opened soon in order to formally honour Knýtlingsfort status as the capital of an autonomous republic. Of course the General Consul would answer to the Ambassador, whilst the station chief would report to Chief of Security and chief spook Valerian Poller.

Moreover, they had agreed to probe whether it would be feasible to turn OelarBank Erlangen into a Franconian strawman without causing too much attention on part of the few finance whizzes amongst Oelar new leadership.​
 

Gunnland

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. State television was giving 24/7 coverage to the vaunted "Spring Offensive" against the renegade Eir militiamen. Blue-uniformed soldiers newly integrated under the Skycommand were omnipresent in the streets, looking proud and well-disciplined. In the living room, Svava Gunn could hear the two new cabinet ministers, Havi Eir and Matteus Eir, calling their uncle Sigvarthur a lunatic on the TV set.

The ISRA candidates did not do as well as expected in the new Great Council, mostly because they underestimated the ease of getting their candidates through and over-endorsed Svava in Knytlingsfort and Alasdair Symeon in Y.G. But Svava had also realized that the new regime would need military support to get its reforms through, and the Eirs and Viereskogs would be necessary for that support.

The only surprise was that a last-minute groundswell of support had given Christian Alvitr, the old lord protector, a cabinet position, creating a 3-person moderate center on the council that would be joined by 4 intersectionalists and 5 more conservative members loosely connected to the military-industrial complex.

The business of creating a security state and tourist haven, and laying the groundwork of a stable society that could develop into a free industrialized society, was underway.
 
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Yungdrung Gutsak, O.L.R.

"Look at that, Christian Alvitr did it again. I wonder whether the Franconians used their money to buy him that seat." Valerian Poller smirked about the piece of conversation he had just overheard while dining with one of 'his new junior executives' in the pub just across the street from Franken's embassy. Said establishment was the spot where intellectuals, diplomats, spies and other people with dubious motives liked to mingle. The cuisine was exquisite, since the pub's owner had learned Franconian businessmen and diplomats alike had relatively full wallets and were ready to pay hefty sums for good food.

While Valerian Poller's nominal boss, aka His Majesty's Ambassador the Court of the Rigpa, had got two new subalterns, i.e. general consuls, Poller's own department was expanded, too. Both new general consulates would be host to their very own Franconian secret services station and their chiefs would answer directly to Poller. He had been promoted to Director for Olearan Affairs at the LND, while his cover title would remain the same: Chief of Security. Today he had met the newly appointed chief of station for Knýtlingsfort. "You will find a challenging environment there, Veronika. Despite the region's proximity to Franken the ISRA don't have inhibitions when it comes to dealing with opponents. Your job will be to identify, observe and finally acquire key assets for our side," he had told his new subordinate earlier, "As far as I can tell, you have been thoroughly prepared for your mission, but I'd like to give you an impression of how things work in this particular European capital." With those words he had invited the aspiring spy Veronika Feiler for a lunch.

Feiler was a 27-year-old 'high potential' sent by the LND HQ. She held a master's degree in politics with a focus on autocratic regimes and had quite impressed her supervisors during her first deployment to Vangala. Maybe one of the LND directors had developed a fondness for gender mainstreaming, Poller pondered.

Erlangen, Franken

"What the heck is that?!", the court's administrative clerk exclaimed when he opened the large envelope. The anonymous mail consisted of several documents providing enough evidence to prompt a legal inquiry into the ownership of OelarBank's Franconian branch, which also happened to be its administrative backbone. The clerk at the Amtsgericht Erlangen obediently forwarded the paper's to the appropriate department. Never would he have doubted the documents' authenticity.

After all, the spooks at the Landesamt für Verfassungschutz were masters of their particular trade.​
 

Gunnland

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. In the space of a week, thousands of Eir militiamen and the ISRA Spartacist paramilitaries had changed into Skycommand-blue uniforms. For the first time in modern political memory, Knýtlingsfort was beginning to look like a city fully integrated into Oelar. The television proudly announced that work had begun again in the mines owned by the now state-owned mining giant Oberschlesnitz Eir Copper.

The new defense minister, Havi Eir, was bent over a large map of the city with another Skycommand land force officer. The new city Hundred had wasted no time with their reform agenda, and the new national army troops had been ordered to clear slums beyond the main highway, OLR-1, that ringed the city.

From the other side of the barely-furnished office that the Defense Ministry was currently sharing with the Ministry of Finance, Trade, and Industry (FTI), Matteus called to his cousin. "Hav, have the Franconians released our cousin Stadhaldr to us yet? Filip wants her to kickstart work on the state bank project."
 

Gunnland

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Mimir Abbey, Eastern Frontier Region (Knytlingsfort), O.L.R. "When will the people realize we are living in a militarized revolutionary state? Still playing the game of taking money from world powers?" Atreifur was pacing the room. Out the window, there was still snow on the mountains, although the roaring water of the nearby rivers and waterfalls could be heard announcing the late springtime on the Narazara Range. "Where has Lord Sigvarthur gone? The Eir boys have committed parricide against their own clan lord. An impostor carries the black diamond in the Freehold."

Under flowing white hair and a bushy white beard, the Mimir's blue eyes looked like a mirror of the land, with its mountain lakes surrounded year-round by snow. He shrugged. "Atreifur, I am an old man. But you must adapt to the new times. The people want stability. We are grasping for it in a new way, yes, but that does not mean we will not make the same old mistakes. The Order will regroup here in the East, far from the control of Yungdrung Gutsak. But you must be my eyes and ears in the citadels."
 
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Knýtlingsfort, OLR

Stadhaldr Stubbe had given the Franconians a run for their money, literally speaking. She was tough nut to crack and eventually the Franconians and she had negotiated an almost win-win deal. The ambitious Oelarian businesswoman would return to her home country with a sizeable amount of cash under her belt and a team of excellent bank managers as her new affinity. Furthermore, she would be put at the helm of the successor to the OelarBank. In return for the money and the expert advice she would tolerate a sizeable stake of the Franconian government in the successor to the OelarBank. Officially the shares would be acquired by a straw firm of the Landesnachrichtendienst.

The new parent company for OelarBank had been registered in Erlangen under Franconian commercial law. The sophisticated spooks of Franken had chosen a uniquely Germanic legal form for the bank. “Kommanditgesellschaft auf Aktien, Gentlemen?! If I wasn’t fluent in German I’d consider this sequence of words a pretty nasty tongue twister. Anyhow, that’s quite a way to say ‘golden share’,” Stadhaldr recalled herself blurting out at the Franconians. Put in very plain words, the Franconians and whoever Stadthaldr decided to hand the second golden share would have to share their privilege. The Franconians’ objective was to prevent a total nationalization of the OelarBank without stirring too much attention. However, there was also one major advantage to the new legal form. It would allow the bank to raise capital from the Nuremberg Stock Exchange.

Needless to say, her new team of advisors and managers also included a spy. Stadhaldr’s liaison would be the new Knýtlingsfort LND station chief Veronika Feiler. “I’m delighted you’d consider the services of my company to configure your enterprise resource planning system,” Feiler cheerfully greeted her new assets when she appeared in Stadthaldr’s office. The young agent’s faux business card read Sabrina Heuer, Managing Director Pegasus IT Services. Stadhaldr Stubbe carefully eyed up the fellow businesswoman. During the last briefing with the LND agents in Erlangen she had been informed she’d be contacted by a very particular contractor.
 

Gunnland

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. After hanging up the phone with Aldy at the still-bare FTI headquarters in the city center, Matt Eir felt like he had been hit by a freight train. He was rehearsing in his head how he would tell his boss, Finance Trade & Industry Minister Filip Gutkind. "Oh, Fil. Two problems with the national bank. One, most of the assets are in Franken, beyond our grasp. Two, it's new director is my cousin." While everyone thought Aldy Stubbe was being interrogated by the Franconians, apparently she had just stuck around to make business deals. That or she was a Franconian agent. But it didn't sound like it. Stadhaldr's warnings echoed in Matteus's ears: You and Havi just handed those left-wing jackasses our family's mining consortium? And you're trying to hunt down Daddy like an animal? Well, you're not going to give them my company, you cowardly disloyal son of a bitch.

Matteus wondered if he should ask Ella what to do before confronting Fil Gutkind.
 
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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R

Of course Ella Eir, formerly Koch, still kept in touch with her Franconian friends and family. While her mom was getting on her nerves when she could expect some grandchildren at last – Ella and Matt wanted to allow nature to take its time, some of her old contacts in Franconian politics and the media were keen on discussing current issues. Her old LND colleagues, however, were a different case. As per standard protocol for outgoing LND members, present staff was legally prohibited from getting into touch and/or sharing any kind of information. So Ella had to rely on her own wit instead of fancy intelligence dossiers to help her husband understand the Franconians.

“My dear, obviously they identified OelarBank as an invaluable pawn on the chess board that is Oelarian politics. You are surely aware the OelarBank Franconian co-headquarters had been riddled with agents of the various intelligence and security services of Franken, don’t you? It’s logical from their point of view they don’t want valuable assets to migrate across the border. Last but not least, they seemed to have realized that our dear cousin Stadhaldr is a woman of great ambition, who has an agenda of her own. It’s not unlikely they want to empower her to become a relevant factor in Oelarian politics, ideally gently influenced from Erlangen. To cut a long story short, she could be intended to serve as a check against undesirable decisions in Oelar. If you want to have some first-hand information you could get in touch with the LND station Knýtlingsfort. I have no idea who is its head, but there’s certainly one. Franken’s standard practice is to add a secret service station to key general consulates. They will answer your call if you indicated your desire to get in touch.”

For the sake of her former employer Ella Eir hoped the LND had enough in their hands to allow for reining in Stadhaldr in case she became too independent.​
 

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. The first thing Stadhaldr noticed when she detrained was all of the blue-uniformed soldiers swarming the train station. She had read in the Tagzig papers that Knýtlingsfort was crawling with military personnel, who were engaged in a manhunt for her grandfather. A staged one, she had to remind herself. The second thing she noticed was a few troopers in newly ironed blue Einherjar uniforms walking determinedly towards her and her entourage. But it was the new Oelar: they did not have their guns drawn.

Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. "You might have mentioned you would have my goddamn cousin arrested, Fil." "Niece, Deputy Minister Eir..." Matt Eir looked out the window, flailing his arms uselessly, bewildered at the audacity of his new boss. He had heard stories of Minister Gutkind's temper, most recently storming out of a summit meeting with the foreign ministers of Eiffelland and Franken. Gutkind wants the bank for FTI and that's it. "...She was arrested on suspicion of espionage, Matt. But we're just going to have a chat about the new bank rules the Ministry is rolling out. Can't have the Franconians run our economy for another 1,000 years, can we? Nothing more than that."

Matt clenched his teeth, nodding, although the traces of anger did not leave his face. As he walked out of Gutkind's office, he heard: "Oh, and Deputy Minister Eir. With who your wife is, you might take special care not to associate yourself with any alleged LND spy rings, either, you know. Welcome to the new Oelar."

Eir pivoted. "But, with who my cousin is, the Einherjar has already released Stadhaldr. Rumor has it Defense Minister Eir just didn't feel the charges were appropriate. Don't worry, she is coming anyway, but I had to extend a most gracious invitation on your behalf to convince her. Welcome to the new Oelar yourself."
 
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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R.

"Endless money forms the sinews of war" was a quote by a Tiburian scholar called Cicero Veronika Feiler came to mind when she was following Stadhaldr Stubbe into the makeshift home of the FTI Ministry. To Stubbe, Gutkind and Matteus Eir she was Sabrina Heuer, Managing Director Pegasus IT Services. Stadhaldr Stubbe would introduce her as the senior consultant on all matters pertaining to modern information technology. A modern state's banking system needed a working IT infrastructure. Pegasus IT Services were neither faux nor bad, but they had one catch: Built-in eaves-dropping devices for Franken's spooks. As a matter of fact, Veronika Feiler was well aware of the Deputy Minister's marriage to former agent Ella Eir. She wondered whether his training as a warrior monk and his marriage to a retired spy would help him enough to recognise her signs. Keeping in mind Gutkind's temper and ideological zeal and the Eirs' standing, Veronika had been instructed to establish contact to Matteus.​
 

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. Love hides a multiplicity of sins. Gravplass wrote that in 1847. He meant that to love another means not to see the beloved's faults or the dishonest secrets the beloved conceals. Perhaps before the towering Oelarian philosopher, the Swordbrothers were cut out for corporate espionage. And so the ex-priest Matteus Eir could survive for weeks at a time in the middle of the mountains in midwinter with only a pocket knife. But he could not detect the look in the eyes of 'Sabrina Heuer'.

In fact, it was only when his wife came into the office to announce breathlessly that she was pregnant -- Cell phone service had been shut down by massive signal blockers all around the city -- that he learned what Heuer wanted. It was an occasion for a fine whisky to be broken out, and even Gutkind seemed especially eager to break the tense bank arguments.

Ella Koch Eir, meanwhile, even distracted as she was by the thought that she was bearing a child, noticed Heuer was a fish out of water. As a bewildered and teary-eyed Eir leaned over to kiss her for the thirtieth time, she whispered: "Thirtyish consultant woman: LND."

While the exuberance was still high, Feiler approached Matteus to congratulate him on the child he never thought he would have. He looked at her strangely for a moment, as if he had forgotten what to say. Oh yes, that's it. "Listen, Miss, er, Heuer, bank nationalization is essential to placating President Symeon and Minister Gutkind -- the ISRA faction, I mean. What I think will be possible, eventually, is to turn the Bank of Oelar, or OelarBank, into a hybrid public-private system with Stadhaldr as the bank president with representation of foreign-held domestic banks. Currency independence, our second objective, is a long way off."
 
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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R.

Veronika Feiler did notice how her erstwhile colleague Ella raised an eyebrow while scanning her as discreetly as a veteran spy could do. Feiler nodded in her direction, so briefly that it was hardly recognizable to any bystander.
“Very well, I see you did your homework, Deputy Minister. That model is one of the three pillars of banking in Franken. What I haven’t understood completely yet is whether you want to just nationalize OelarBank or invest it with the power of a national bank like, say our Reichsbank in Franken. I could offer you many a further question and/or insight. Can the promise of fine Guianan coffee lure you in my office for a separate appointment?” With a charming smile that rivaled his wife’s one, she handed him her business card.

When Matteus cast Ella a quizzical look, she briefly explained the Franconian banking sector to him. “Firstly, there are the saving&loan banks, which are owned by a group of cities and districts. They offer financial services to both the local public sector and private customers. They collectively own one bank on national level. Secondly, there are the cooperative banks, which are owned by their cooperative members. They too have two or three national institutions. Thirdly, there are the so-called private banks, which are either privately owned or publicly listed. Your idea would obviously come very close to the three pillars of Franken; with the little exception they don’t have Stubbe as nominal empress of all banks to boss them around. But those are your people’s crazy small quirks I love so much.”

Stadhaldr Stubbe had been negotiating by the book. First she introduced her primary demand and gradually moved towards the obvious compromise solution, as outlined by Matteus Eir. What the Franconians didn’t want to lose was their grasp over the large archives of data and financial information of OelarBank. If the ISRA wanted to have a toy of their own, they could very well have it, but Franken was to control the biggest player on the banking market, one way or another.
 

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. There are not more herring ahead of a boat working its way through a shoal than there are examples of upbringing in money-worship. It was a phrase of Gravplass that, like 1 Timothy 6:10, Filip Gutkind never tired of quoting to his subordinate minister. Matteus Eir looked down the streets both ways before entering the small IT form. Although the previous day had passed without incident, and indeed in jubilation, he remembered Gutkind was probably still the most powerful man in the city of Knýtlingsfort. It would not go well for the Deputy Minister of Finance, Trade, & Industry to be arrested on charges of espionage.

Eir found Heuer in a modest, but efficient-looking and well-organized office in a prime downtown area. Day by day, Knýtlingsfort was looking more like an orderly Franconian city. Matteus wasn't sure if that was due to the increasing number of Franconian businesspeople pouring back in, or the Einherjar troops swarming the notoriously violent outskirts of the city, or what.

Heuer wanted details about the hybrid public/private plan* Deputy Minister Eir had proposed -- "I told Fil it would be a good transitional system, so it will at least buy us a few years..." -- to Minister Gutkind. Eir shrugged. "So we're not going to wrest control totally from Franconian investors, but the FTI Ministry is going to be a little more muscular. Fortunately, without a national currency we won't be able to completely ruin our economy." Eir smiled, laughing to himself, and jingled the Franconian thaler coins in his pocket.

In politic language, Heuer started to gesture at Franken's goals and objectives. At one point in the conversation, Eir thought he noticed a hint of frustration. The Franconians think they are losing Stadhaldr's support... But surely Aldy isn't on my side, either. And then again, he found himself wondering if they hadn't underestimated Fil Gutkind's rancor.

"You know, if the Minister hates two things, they're market capitalism and the Kingdom of Franken. I'm afraid he thinks of it, and you, just like thirty pieces of silver and the Iscariot... you know Gravplass thought Christendom was the greatest threat to Christianity, and as our wealthy neighbors and the most visible heirs of the Holy Germanic Empire..." Eir stopped short of saying to what extent he agreed with his superior. But he did add one more thing.

"Before the gates of Tibur, remember Sallust records Jugurtha as saying, 'Urbem venalem et mature perituram, si emptorem invenerit.' I have the feeling you are very much like Jugurtha, Miss Heuer."

*I envision Eir's plan as being more like the Federal Reserve System in the United States -- with Stadhaldr Stubbe analogous to the Fed Chairman -- whereas Gutkind wants a publicly-controlled central bank with greater political oversight.
 
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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R.

On the one hand Knýtlingsfort looked more and more neatly and orderly thanks to Symeon’s benevolent yet iron hand. On the other hand, the regime’s tight grip over the city made intelligence business difficult, but definitely not impossible. Feiler had painstakingly seen to secure her firm’s offices. Two of her subaltern spies had been delegated to tail any other shady figures trying to tail Matteus Eir on his way to Pegasus IT Services. The actual LND station was hidden far more diligently.

“Welcome to our small offices, Herr Vizeminister. I’m delighted you could make it in time,” Veronika Feiler greeted him. At her wink her assistant closed the door. Then she nonchalantly pushed a button on a small remote control. “That’s just to keep any electronic bugs at bay for the time being, even the pesky ones with large ears.” Even if Gutkind’s or Symeon’s men had managed to hire top IT guys who knew their trade well, they’d need one hour or more to break into the system. When listening to Eir’s explanations, she non-verbally encouraged him to be as open as possible. Some called the method non-directive conversation, cynics liked to label the technique plain old manipulation. She politely remarked: “Well, your plan seems to be quite sound and realistic to me. The general desire for more independence in monetary policy is understandable, Herr Eir. Am I correctly assuming Minister Gutkind’s vision is a command and control economy of sorts?”

Veronika Feiler suppressed the urge to snicker at Gutkind’s idealism. For every flaw market capitalism had (even the Social Market Economy) command and control markets had three more at least. Publicly they had announced they wanted to accumulate capital to buy out the Franconians, but with the socialist economy’s profound lack of efficient mechanisms that would take a long while.

However, she responded to his quote with a broad smile. “May I answer your scholarly remark with another one? About 20 centuries after Jugurtha Franken’s much revered pater patriae and father of the constitutional monarchy, the very first Earl of Montgelas, delighted his contemporaries with bon mots and memorable statements, too: ‘Nothing is better for facilitating cooperation between dissenting groups than working together on common tasks.’ By the way, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who will soon haunt, ahem visit Gutkind, having accepted your invitation, is a direct descendant of our pater patriae.

Anyway, I wouldn’t even dispute we are similar to Jugurtha. Tragically – or luckily – the geographic situation has forced my home country to take Oelar into account since the dawn of the Franconian state. I daresay Gutkind will neither get rid of us easily, while we will have to learn to get along with him, too.”
 

Gunnland

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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. A Franconian's unflappable pragmatism was good for many things, it was said in Oelar, but it wouldn't get you saved on the Last Day. In temperament Oelarians were given over to zealotry in greater numbers.

"You know, Sabrina, Filip is a pathologue but he's not entirely irrational..." (It was a distinction only a Gravplassian could make without feeling guilty of some logical misstep.) "...we have seen the rise of the East, the state capitalism of the growth regimes. A country as undeveloped as Oelar would better turn to those models of success than emulate our already-developed Western neighbors. And the saner elements in FTI understand the importance of Franconian investment."

Yungdrung Gutsak, O.L.R. After spending the past twenty years in exile in the East, and some months in the eastern frontier regions of Oelar, Atreifur Aethur arrived to an Oelarian capital he still recognized. Everything seemed the same, except for the air of military orderliness. This has become a barracks-town. The last scion of the long-since purged 'Fourth Clan', Atreifur did not expect a warm welcome by many friends. But he did have contacts in Touzen -- for whom he nursed a secret contempt deep in his heart -- and warrior-monk friends in the Eastern Frontier. And he alone, except for a few men in the highest echelons of the new federal Oelarian state, knew that the country was being ruled by an impostor and goaded into a phony war with a long-since captured clan lord.
 
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Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. An unusually blunt reaction escaped Veronika Feiler’s lips: “Let’s hope so, by goodness, Herr Vizeminister! Is there anything else I could do for you? If not - ”, the young agent turned around and handed Matteus Eir a beautifully wrapped gift, “please do accept this small token. It’s a fine and robust mobile from one of Franken’s finest children’s toy manufacturers. I haven’t been able to indulge in the joys of parenthood yet, but my many nephews and nieces enjoyed it.” That wasn’t even a lie. Feiler was the youngest sibling of two girls and three boys. While taking him out for dinner at a fancy restaurant would mean risking Eir being incriminated within his ministry, this fitting and yet so innocent present would establish a basic emotional attachment between the two.

Yungdrung Gutsak, O.L.R. These days the focus of attention was in Knýtlingsfort, as it commanded Oelar’s administrative region with the most natural resources. However, that didn’t mean the nominal capital of Oelar had suddenly become irrelevant or unimportant. Indeed, Valerian Poller had been meeting regularly with Christian Alvitr. Alvitr, his faction and the Franconians shared valuable and significant information. Moreover, they were still being given access to Franconian resources to pursue their political goals. The LND Director of Oelarian Affairs was quite certain they weren’t sharing every piece of information – particularly a bullet-proof final verification of the Lord Rigpa’s fate. “However, that’s fair game. We don’t share everything, either,” Poller explained to the ambassador during today’s intelligence briefing.​
 

Gunnland

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Gunnrsund, O.L.R. "Even the north ain't like it used to be," agreed the leonine old widow with dyed blonde hair who smelled of too much makeup. "We were poor but never wretched poor." Every day she came in to compete with the five-on-five shinny on the battery-operated radio, and the men might buy her a cellar-temperature beer (most of the time indistinguishable from refrigerated beer in Oelar) to sip in the lamplight. "It's worse down at the fort, I hear," she said, meaning the distant southern city of Knýtlingsfort. Tonight they were griping about the soldiers who needed to be quartered, and the buildings they were tearing down for the new electric and water systems. In Gunnrsund the clan militias had not yet been disarmed, although the patrons of the little pub were concerned the modest 'downtown' was slated for urban renewal. "The guv'ment doesn't even have their eye on us, yet, lads."

Knýtlingsfort, O.L.R. "...In conclusion, meeting our development targets will require redistributing wealth strategically to efficient export industries with a high degree of state involvement. FTI has identified aerospace as our flagship industry, and recommends investment and control in labor-intensive industries in coal, steelworks, and cheap plastics. But most of all construction, which will give us the infrastructure we need to shore up our industrial base." The Great Council was meeting at a summit on the economy in Knýtlingsfort. Filip Gutkind sat down and waited for questions.

Christian Alvitr leaned forward. "You're right to locate cheap labor as an asset, Minister, but I wonder if your development goals will change the unique culture of our nation irrevocably. Technology changes the way we think. Knýtlingsfort is past an industrial tipping point, I realize. That's why you're all miners and communists..." Alvitr flashed a broad smile. Out of a leadership role, he seemed more affable, but was also comfortable unsheathing sarcasm. "...and Issverth will be the port. But the special heritage of Yungdrung Gutsak must be protected, and I expect the Hundred there will limit the province to less intrusive industries like tourism. The hospitality industry is awfully labor-intensive, and we can have ski resorts alongside historical and spiritual sites. I just don't see the FTI plan working so well in the capital, is what I mean."

He sat down as the argument began to erupt.
 
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Gunnrsund, O.L.R.

While the LND station led by Veronika Feiler in Knýtlingsfort saw plenty of modern style espionage action, the northern station was forced to go about their business with much more old school techniques. Sure, they had their satellite phones, a wide range of other electronic gadgets and other fancy items a modern spy needed for efficiently conducting his complicated craft. However, there were two important factors constraining the use of modern gadgets: Firstly, there was no sufficient and reliable supply of power yet. Secondly, only the leaders of the local militias and the top notch of the province could afford buying a satellite phone, computers et cetera. Therefore, it was wise to use them very discreetly while on field duty.

So you’d find Franconian spies using the guise of literally proletarian construction workers enjoying their evening beer after a hard day’s work. Tonight station chief Harald Bauer alias Foreman Sepp and one of his team members were enjoying the company of their new found drinking mates. The locals sympathized with the construction workers from Franken who just wanted to escape their meddling government for a while to enjoy a more free society. Needless to say, they were pretty generously when it came to buying said widow a beer or two. That relieved the locals from having to spend their meager wages.

“Pretty dull, isn’t it? I really wish we were stationed down in the south. This people’s frugality is mind-numbing, boss,” Bauer’s young colleague whispered. His chief answered that with a stern glance: “Just you wait, Lukas. It’s a perfect practice for your patience and analyzing skills. One way or another, you serve king and country.” Lukas merely grunted.

Yungdrung Gutsak, O.L.R.

To Veronika Feiler’s dismay her boss hadn’t allowed her to take over Christian Alvitr as one of her assets from her boss’ portfolio. Although the centre of attention of Oelarian politics had shifted from the nominal capital to the country’s industrial hub, Valerian Poller maintained Alvitr wouldn’t take a change of liaison too well, especially with Feiler being Poller’s subaltern. “I’m sad to see you so aggravated, Veronika,” he told her via a safe phone line, “but you have to cater to the vanity of men of his class and station. You have been doing a marvelous job with Matteus Eir. Look on the bright side: You have ample time to enchant him.”

A few hours after Alvitr’s return from Knýtlingsfort the two men met for some informal exchange during tea time. “I have heard you have fought hard for limiting the capital province’s industrial exposure to tourism. Did you fare well?”, Poller nonchalantly remarked. “I haven’t heard about the young designated successor to the Lord Rigpa. Is his succession still secure or is there anything I need to know in order to help you more efficiently?”, he added later.
 
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