A New Beginning

[Arendaal]

Kalmar Chateau
[WIKI]Emyn Arnen[/WIKI], Arendaal

Aren Prime Minister [WIKI]Svea Bjornsen[/WIKI] was busy signing the last of the formidable stack of papers on her gleaming mahogany desk when her Private Secretary reminded of the time. The Prime Minister of Batavië was due to land at Emyn Arnen’s International Airport within the hour, and she would shortly have to leave to receive him.

The visit was the first of its kind since Batavië's recent regime change. Needless to say, the Aren Kingdom had breathed a huge sigh of relief when the Batavien communists had fallen. So too had the government, although they’d never openly opposed the communist regime. But of course, there had been that covert assistance to aid the rebel cause, Svea mused vaguely as she finished with the last of the papers.

She rose from her desk and, as she did so, she caught sight of the view from her window. It was quite break-taking, anyone would grant, looking over the sparkling city which shone like a beacon as its buildings reflected the bright sunlight.

Even the Aren opposition parties agreed: it was in the interests of the country to see that the transition in Batavië went smoothly. Economic assistance and investment would be offered where required and the business sector was keen to take advantage of the new market which had been opened up to them almost over night. Political support was necessary too, Svea knew, and she was eager to see that her government provided it.

 

[Arendaal]

Emyn Arnen, Arendaal

As her luxurious limousine snaked around the city streets en-route to the airport, Prime Minister [WIKI]Svea Bjornsen[/WIKI] was only half listening to her Private Secretary prattle on about the finalized itinerary for the visit.

“After landing and getting settled at the Ritz, the Batavien delegation will return to Kalmar Chateau* for the bulk of the talks, the Batavien PM is then to call on the King, the Royal Banquet hosted by the King at [WIKI]Karlheim Palace [/WIKI]will follow in the evening. Tomorrow, we will resume talks, the PM will address Parliament in the afternoon and will be given a tour of the city,” her Secretary said, stopping for breath no more than twice.

Svea was amazed as Jarlsson’s ability to speak without, apparently, needing any air. It was another fifteen minutes before they arrived at the airport, during which Jarlsson treated his boss to an even more in-depth analysis of the day’s upcoming events.

* Kalmar Chateau is the official residence of Arendaal’s Prime Ministers

 

[Batavië]

A short flight, a pity, thought De Jonghe, that the journey could not yet be made by train. Ah, but soon, soon, he thought. He exited his plane, buttoned his jacket and took in his first breath of Arendaaler air. It was crisp, exciting. A quick waive of his hand for the press, he approached the Prime Minister, stunned by her beauty. Not married, he felt no guilt in letting his mind slip for even just a moment.

Taking her hand, he kissed it as any gentleman would and said in Norsk, 'A pleasure to finally meet you, madam Prime Minister. I look forward to our meetings.' There, having exhausted the extent of his Norsk, which he was still taking private lessons for, his translator was nearby. De Jonghe doubted very much the need for him, however. They would most likely conduct the meetings in German or French.

He had read the agenda faxed to his aide on the plane. It was busy, but important. The new relationship to be built with the northern neighbours was absolutely essential to a promising future. They had to become close, culturally, economically and...personally, thought De Jonghe slyly as he hid a small smile.

'Where to first?' he began in French as they headed towards the cars.

 

[Arendaal]

'Right this way, Prime Minister' Svea said, giving him a dazzling smile and leading him towards an awaiting convoy of limousines.

Soon she found that, in spite of herself, she was beginning to warm to De Jonghe. He spoke excellent French and German, both of which she was fluent in, saving her the trouble of speaking in Dutch – a language which she had always had trouble mastering. He was also, though she'd never admit it aloud, quite attractive in his way. They chatted easily as the Batavian delegation and their Aren welcoming party made their way back from the airport to the Ritz and Kalmar Chateau respectively.

The Batavians had been left at the glamorous hotel, undoubtedly the most luxurious in the country, to settle into their rooms before being escorted to the Prime Minister’s Residence. Once pleasantries had been exchanged, the respective government representatives were seated on opposite sides of a long discussion table in the Chateau’s principle great hall.

To begin matters on a positive footing, Svea opened the talks with an item to which she knew both parties would be amenable: transportation. ‘The establishment of a direct rail-link between the Batavian capital, a border town and the Aren city of Leuven is an immediate interest my government is keen to pursue. As I understand it, the development of such a rail system in Batavie is to be aided by experts from Franken. I’d propose that surveying for the project begin by the end of the month so that lines may be laid as soon as possible.’

 

[Batavië]

De Jonghe nodded in agreement.

'Yes, officials from Franken could probably be here by then to initiate the investigation. Currently we plan to connect Hilversum to Leuven and the Vlaanderen to Hilversum. We are trying to promote Hilversum as a possible headquarters for the Northern Council based on its central location and city layout. I also hope that we could connect Emyr Arnen to the high speed network in a second or third phase.'

'Now about roads. Motorways are also vital for trade and travel. In Batavië they are being repaved, widened etc. I would like to see a motorway from Hilversum to Leuven and I would also like the Northern council to discuss the implementation of an NC road labelling system. This would make travel easier and more universal if major motorways were given NC demarcations alongside their national ones.'