Saint Helene

Seven weeks have passed since the death of the Grand Prince. The coronation of Emperor Alena, as she has titled herself, took place three weeks following the day. Life has, for almost all of the Empire, returned to normal; the streetcars clamour through the streets, the public announcements ring out from the loudspeakers three times a day across its larger cities, the children assemble in the schoolyards for their morning salutation to the Imperial banner, and the caravans of decommissioned military trucks transport crews of indentured workers off to their sentenced labour. The initial shock of Emperor Alena's ascension passed almost as quickly as it came, and the people adjusted quickly. It made sense, after all - for the Empire, an Emperor. All of the notable changes and acts so far from Alena's administration had essentially followed this methodology of logical progressivism. Even when faced with the incredible conservatism of the Empire, Alena's raw efficacy in decision-making cut through the initial resistance with ease. To the outside world, it seemed that the core essence of the Empire's administration had changed overnight, and some long-dormant machine of bureaucratic efficiency and efficacy had been awoken.

In reality, these grand efforts were in fact the marching orders of a war being waged just behind the curtain. The seemingly-consenting former establishment had quietly become a reactionary conspiracy, who readily threw their swords behind Prince Aleix Romanique and rejected the upstart Emperor. Where the people saw governmental efficiency, these rivals of the new order saw early political battles lost by a strategically and logistically superior foe. It was all done as a calculated major offensive, in truth, through a well-played advantage. The secret war seemed to be over before it began - were it not, unfortunately, for the fact that the reactionary faction had the quiet support of the Imperial Foreign Ministry through Imperial Ministress Mirela Domerre and the Gran Echietz through Patrize Elisau, as well as a strong presence in the Imperial Guard as it largely remained loyal to their former commander Aristide Hugelin who had resigned after the announcement of Alena's ascension. Aleix's faction, through this web, fell just short of one final component to be able to install Aleix; the people and the nouveau-riche preferred Alena. She was an icon of the nation, and her rousing coronation speech had given the Empire something it had not had in decades - a future to look forward to. Without funding or popular support, their plans were dead in the water.

Two rogue elements remained, however, which were rapidly becoming the key battlefields; the investigation of Grand Prince Martin's assassination, and his secret mission with the EPU. Alena and Aleix were among the hand-picked few outside of the Inspectorat-General who were aware of the true nature of Martin's death - or at least what was currently known of it - and were fully in the dark, as was essentially all of the rest of the Empire, about Martin's diplomatic assignment. In truth, both were connected in a way neither expected but both would soon quickly learn; Alena had inherited not only Martin's title, but also his own unfinished battles.

---

"Emperor?"

Deputy Chief Inspector Siro stares absently into the void in the vague direction of his superior.

"The things she said in her speech and all I understand, the changing her name too, but to name yourself Emperor?...It's just a bit far to me. Don't you agree, Siro?"

The Deputy is jolted back to reality. Chief Inspector Ramon chuffs. He was fully aware Siro was not listening. Siro knew that Ramon knew, he just didn't care.

"You're probably too young for politics anyways," Ramon continues, setting his issue of L'Gazetta aside. Siro had listened to the broadcast detailing Alena's coronation on the way in that morning. He had barely wasted more than a thought on the matter. It only made sense to him for an Empire to be ruled by an Emperor, after all. If anything, he found it strange nobody thought of it before her. He wasn't up for bringing that up to Ramon, though. The less they had to talk about, in his opinion, the better.

"Anyways, not what I brought you in to talk about, I know you're busy with the Vezic case. Sit." Ramon gestures to a chair in the corner of his office. Siro places it at the edge of the desk and surveys the file Ramon summons from one of his many overcrowded, disorganized drawers. It, like many others, is overloaded with subfolders and loose papers and images. A common sight in the Empire's most powerful and sophisticated investigative agency.

"To keep it to the point, there's been no progress on the Martin case. I've had Senior Inspector Elisabet reassigned to take over the operations in Vezic, and I'm going to have you take over lead on the case for her, since it's clearly beyond her scope." He dramatically drops another stack of files onto the desk from about two inches up. The slam knocks over his paper cup of tea, which spills on his newspaper. He curses, looking around for something to wipe the mess up with, before reluctantly settling on his jacket sleeve. Siro and Ramon were the only people in the entire Inspectorat-Imperial who knew about the Martin case that weren't formally assigned to it. The agents and inspectors assigned were under constant surveillance for intelligence breaches. It was the highest-acuity classified case in the organization's history, by far.

"It's not a good time for a command reassignment," Siro states flatly.

"Too bad," Ramon retorts. "I am your Emperor here. Emperor Ramon of the Gran Inspectorat-Imperial. And it is my decree that you give her a full brief on current operations before reporting to your post. She's in... one of the conference rooms. Somewhere. Ask Ivett on your way out, I don't know."

"Chief Inspector, respectfully, we-"

"You may address me as His Imperial Highness," Ramon interrupts. Siro stares blankly.

"Falsely claiming a title can be charged as treason, Chief Inspector." Siro can find no patience for Ramon's eccentricity today. Or ever.

"And you cannot make an arrest, Deputy Chief Inspector, only file a report. And your reports have no power here, in my Empire."

Siro sighs.

"Clearly not," he replies defeatedly.

"Perfect!" Ramon claps his large, hairy ape hands together. "Everything on the case so far is here, feel free to hold on to all of these, aaand Elisabet will brief you on any operational things you should need to know about. The proper authorities in Gran Aletz have already been notified of the reassignment, so as far as access to the Imperial Palace and things of that nature you shouldn't have to worry. I also stuffed a train ticket in there to take you to the capital at 10:00 next monday. You're welcome! Goodbye! Cake in the breakroom!" Ramon shoos Siro away with a waving gesture. The Deputy Chief Inspector scoops the files into his arms and departs without a word.

Following the directions he received from Ivett, Ramon's secretary and singlehandedly the operational glue holding the entire Inspectorat-General together, Siro arrives at a large meeting room on the second level. Alongside Senior Inspector Elisabet, several other agents of the Inspectorat-Imperial are present in the room. Various folders, papers, images, packets, evidence bags and other various paraphernalia are strewn across the table in vaguely-organized heaps. Their discussion seems almost heated, and items keep changing places. They take a few seconds to notice that Siro has entered the room.

"Deputy Chief Inspector," Elisabet announces with an exacerbated exhale, "Pleasure to meet you. Apologies, we're still getting a few things together for you."

"No matter," Siro replies, setting down the files he received from Ramon and surveying the table more closely. Nearest to him are the post-mortem photographs of Martin, taken in the morgue. As described, there was a single point-blank gunshot wound through the right side of the forehead. He had seen similar images before with illegal executions in the Imperial Guard, which were common in the early days of the Second Nevassian War as commanding officers preferred to simply murder their seconds-in-command when they refused orders rather than bother with the courts-martial.

"Despite appearances, I'm afraid I don't have much for you, Sir," Elisabet states while organizing a stack of papers. She grabs a small bushel of them, clips them together and hands them to him. Inside is a copy of the death certificate, coroner's report, toxicology findings, and other related items.

"The scene was a travesty. The killer was Martin's personal bodyguard, a Lleo Hugelin, 43. He was detained by a palace guard and resisted questioning for several hours before being sent to the firing squad. The guard responsible has received a life sentence of hard labour under "Crimes against the Administration of Justice". Martin's body was removed from the scene, and any evidence in the bedroom where he was murdered was removed and most lost or destroyed. We found nothing of note in Lleo's quarters, and as Martin's sole bodyguard he had few colleagues who knew much of anything about him at all. As far as we can tell he had almost no connections whatsoever." Elisabet delivers the information with a palpable disappointment in her tone.

Siro pauses for a moment, considering the materials before him.

"Who have we interviewed so far?"

"We have a list here," Elisabet states clearly as she slides a stack of interrogation reports fixed together with a strained paperclip into Siro's hands.

"Unfortunately, the majordom of the Imperial domicile has been acting with total disregard for operational security," Elisabet continues. "He's been ordering interrogations of his own, carried out by random members of staff on their colleagues, and has already detained several of these staff members he suspects of involvement. We've gone as far as to threaten him with an arrest warrant, but he shows no signs of slowing down. We've... not been able to get much out of him in the way of questioning, either."

Siro groans internally.

"Are there any working leads at all as far as a motive goes?"

Elisabet looks over at one of her accompanying agents - a tall, slender blonde woman, whose face goes pale as she notices both Siro and Elisabet have turned their attention to her. She clears her throat and takes a quick breath in before she speaks.

"Uh, the only thing we've really been able to come up with so far is that it may have been a paid assassination, but as far as who ordered the killing or why, we don't have anything."

Siro sharpens his gaze. This agent is greener than the hills outside Altan in spring. Elisabet intends this as a stress test. Siro will play along.

"What is your name, Agent?"

"Deputy Agent Ariadna D'Viscal, sir,"

"Agent D'Viscal -- What evidence do we have of that theory? Were there any changes in the guard's accounts? Irregular amount of cash found on him or in his living quarters?"

"We did discover about 106,000 aquilas in cash in a briefcase under his bed, but he has no registered bank accounts, so that could just as well be his savings."

"So based on nothing, then," Siro states flatly.

"...Affirmative, Inspector," Ariadna replies after a beat.

Siro has a quiet appreciation for her honesty. Most other new agents in her position would try to defend themselves and their assignment. Siro took it as a sign that everyone assigned had essentially lost all hope in a meaningful resolution.

"Understood. I want to see if we can get a warrant written up against this majordom before I go any further. Could you see to that, Ariadna?"

She stammered.

"Uh -- Yes, Inspector, I'll get on it." She glanced at Elisabet, who gave her an approving nod, and left the room in the direction of Secretary Ivett's desk.

The materials, as Elisabet warned, were few and lacking in informational depth. Most of the content was only informative in the negative sense, detailing a series of failures and misjudgements that scarcely befitted the agency from whence it came. Siro appraises the content he has not yet reviews, and frowns disapprovingly.

"I don't believe I require anything further, Senior Inspector. Thank you for your time." Siro exits the room, finding himself a couple minutes later outside of some service entrance holding an overbrewed tea in a paper cup and his last cigarette. This was going to be one hell of a case.

---

"Emperor," Alena corrects.

"My apologies, Your Imperial Highness," Dr. Zabatier says with a small bow and flourish of his hand. She's unsure if it's a sincere gesture, but notes that he did not repeat her title. "As I was saying, it *could* work, but there are some details we need to refine before embarking on such an... *ambitious* venture. The balance of powers has been in place for centuries now; this could have catastrophic unforeseen consequences if-"

"With respect, Doctor," Alena interrupts with an annoyed tone, "I am well aware of the gravity of the situation. If I needed a fearmonger, I would not be having this conversation with you. I had you brought here because I believe you are the only person in the whole of the Empire that can actually help me make this work."

Dr. Zabatier pauses. He adjusts his glasses and combs his fingers through his bushy white beard as he stares at an empty corner of a desk for a moment, deep in thought.

"It would essentially require a total restructuring of Imperial society as a whole," he mumbles.

"Yes," Alena responds. "That's the point."

He side-eyes her before taking a seat at his study desk and returning to his crowded notepad, rapidly scribbling notes and silently muttering to himself.

"I had assumed many things would change when you came to power," Zabatier says after a moment, "But I never could have predicted something of this scale."

She smirks approvingly. Again, she thinks, that is the point. Zabatier flips to a new page, and looks up at his Emperor with the same curious look he's given to many of his students and colleagues before.

"Do you know that I am a liberal?" The question, bearing an all-but-forbidden form of personal identification, gives Alena pause for a moment. She did know, of course - it was obvious even from a cursory review of his writings or the criminal records and affiliations of many of his graduates - but she was not anticipating speaking about it aloud.

"Once again, Doctor Zabatier, that is the point."

He grins, and gestures to the seat in front of his desk.

"Please, Emperor Alena, take a seat."

The pair of them spend the next several hours discussing political theory and outlining the process of implementing Alena's designs. As the sun began to set, golden rays of dusk-light illuminated the massive chalkboard on which they had detailed a multi-phase plan to reshape the balance of powers in the Imperial government, and to by extension change the face of Imperial society as a whole. She named it the "Consorci Imperial" - the Imperial Consortium, a league of pan-Imperial gremis or "guilds" which in effect would politicize and centrally plan the entire economy of the Empire, and also functionally outlaw strikes and labour negotiation through the binding decrees of Consortium-appointed administrators, who managed labour relations on the behalf of the employers - a class now converted into political middle-managers between the Consortium's Board and their employees. The Consortium, ultimately, would replace the entire legislative process of the Imperial Congress and centralize economic planning across the Empire under a central authority directly accountable to the Emperor herself; its body made up of the ignoble masses would give real power and influence to her support among the people and the nouveau-riche who had historically been completely disenfranchised within the Empire's central government. The Congress would then be reworked into a judiciary to interpret and approve legal drafts submitted by the Consortium, with no power to write laws of its own. The Emperor would maintain her absolute power of veto and decree, essentially making the Imperial Congress little more than an advisory committee. The warpath was laid. It would be a hero's journey through the darkness of bureaucracy and set ablaze centuries of tradition, but once this bureaucratic machine was built and operational, it would provide the Empire with the raw power it needed to charge forth into a new age. Zabatier had initially guessed that the young Emperor would be unskilled in statecraft and politicking, but indeed throughout their project had shown a natural talent he had not seen in some of even his brightest students. Where his students studied, she had lived it since she was a girl; her understanding of socioeconomic theories rivaled his own, and he was nearly twice her age and had devoted his life to this research; she may have not done all the reading, but with each suggestion and proposal she had made, it became clear that experience had taught her very well. Alena looked up at the finished first draft of the scheme before her with pride. Dr. Zabatier, who had lost himself somewhere along the way to an animalistic drive that could only be sated by seeing this illustration to its end, looked with horror at what they had created. What he had helped create.

Alena produced a small camera from her bag and photographed the board. Approaching the doors at the far side of the room, she turned to Zabatier.

"Doctor, I am pleased to inform you that you are a liberal no longer. I look forward to our next meeting."

Port Kjaransvik, Alkarian Empire
August 28th, 1764.
7:25am.

After studying her surroundings long enough, Shizu, too, took a seat, much more gracefully and gently than the former, sitting next to her friend.

“…So…”

She began, adjusting her black, circular-framed glasses, as a smirk adorned her lips.

“…Who is this ‘Lady Garnet’ we keep hearing about as of late? Are you perhaps hiding a doppelgänger from us?”

Garnet’s eyes narrowed at the diminutive fox that had perched next to her. And now she realized explicitly why the Empress-Consort had followed her to the bench. But all she could say was a denial.

“They say that because of my rank, nothing more. Grand Marshal’s get honorifics, even for the unlanded and commoners who have grasped the baton and didn't let go.”

“…You know…”

Her voice trailed off, looking around once again as she heard an excited yell from behind her.

“…The military and other combat-adjacency ranks are not my forte, but what I do know about them from listening to my wife ramble on about them, is that they do tend to address another via the rank itself, and not generalized honorifics typically reserved for the nobles’ sphere, for which I am more accustomed to.”

Garnet chuffed. Damn this little canid and her bookworm tendencies. She’ll curse her from the heavens above to the hells below.

“Things are different here, though, as you know. One must not cause friction between those within the command structure, either via the fostering of inferiority complexes and neglect, or nepotism and arrogance. Class cannot have a say in this empire.”

Garnet wasn’t exactly lying, Elizabeth had mandated egalitarianism and the abolition of social class within the empires militaries, but… she wasn’t exactly not not lying, there was no such thing as honorifics for a Grand Marshal of the Empire, but since she’s the only living Grand Marshal remaining, or people intimately familiar with the position, who was there to dispute her claim?

The fox raised her eyebrows, putting on a faux-surprised tone and accentuating the poshness to her words.

“…Oh my, how innovative of your Empire. I am sure the other nobles I meet must also share similarly innovative opinions as you, yes? Does this also now mean I should be addressing all military officer personnel with such noble honorifics?”

Garnet gave her little more than a look.

“Well, the nobility are split, but it’s not up to them to decide. The word of the empress is law, and what she says, goes. Nothing more, nothing less. But you only use honorifics in regards to Grand or Imperial Marshals. Unless you start climbing the political ladder here, you won’t really see one save for me.”

The Empress Consort shrugged, seemingly having had her fun with the old soldier. She was most definitely hiding something, for sure, but now was not the time, nor place to attempt to pry it free with any sort of force. If it is something that much guarded, then it wouldn’t be Shizu’s business anyways—And regardless, Garnet has more than earned their trust and respect over the centuries to wager that something like this wouldn’t be harmful to the foreign leaders.

“…Seems to be the same everywhere, I suppose.”

Garnet herself watched the fishermen work, as with first light, the shorebirds and other animals had begun to wake. Small cursorial birdlike animals had begun to scamper about, though none paid attention to them, even the toothed shorebirds were paid no mind, if anything they were being shooed away, as buckets and pots were benign filled with fish, crab, and lobsters. And to her right, already heard one discussing making a morning broil for the lot. She may have to partake in it if she's allowed to stay for another hour. She heard the noise of plops into purge buckets as she glanced over, as she saw some already ready the pots with butter, seasonings, and adding in a precious ingredient that this empire was lucky to have close by; salt. And as she saw the fire talismans be ignited, she let herself rest to the sounds and smells of a meal she is now hoping to partake in.

It was at this point that a familiar wolf walked down the dock, taking in all of the sights, smells, and general bustles of the area, before stopping and standing just to the right of Shizu, further surveying the area which her wife and friend were sitting at. Noticing the multiple pots being prepared by a few men dressed more cleanly than the rest, her stomach began to internally growl with hunger.

“…A fresh seafood meal is quite the sound decision to start one’s day with. It is always the best when it is right from the ocean, no?”

As her gaze wandered back and forth from the different pots, a certain smell common-place in her life caught her attention—salt. While it was not out of the ordinary for her to experience it, it was quite interesting to see the common folk having this much access to it as to be able to use it in what was essentially a free communal meal. The Empress’ mind swirled with the plausible idea of an excess of salt and other mineral deposits within these lands, for salt to be this readily accessible to the common day-wage workers was quite something. It was either that or it is provided from elsewhere, such as an allotted amount by the local food ministries for these communal meal services.

Fish started to be hauled in and counted, they were all quite strange. The fisherman had been discussing stuff as water came to a boil, though if one listened in, they were more discussing the beginnings of the ice season. Most were voicing concerns or relief, the former for it now cuts off the fishing and a chunk of livelihood, the latter for them not having to go day in day out with nothing to do as they waited. Pots coming to a boil however obscured these idle conversations from distanced listeners after a while though, as some began to point to the short stone pillars which had multitudes of strange wires wrapped around them. If one was to inspect them closely, they were extremely strange. Braided, they would prove much stronger compared to chains or rope, while not being as thick as either, perfect for these longline fishing needs. As the fish they captured started being dragged in for the morning counts, many could see that the fish being pulled in were strange to say the least. Most were long in form, three to five feet with full bodies, strangely looking like lancet fish but with taller more troutlike profiles in shape, but the big attention grabber to any foreigner looking were the mouths, massive pairs of fangs jutting out from the upper and lower jaws, with smaller conical teeth in the rows behind them.

The Empress looked on at such creatures, studying their quite alien features around the mouth and jaw region.

“…Hmmm, the shorebirds could have been a fluke, but for all of these fish to be adorning teeth as well? The environment must be conducive for such a requirement as to have as many carnivorous teeth on as many creatures as possible.”

They were being counted and piled up, some that were partially eaten were tossed back into the water, but every now and then someone would call over for help with a specific line, and what it brought could be considered quite interesting. The fish they gathered interest for were larger. Six to ten feet long, they had passing resemblance to tarpon, but had a single row of conical teeth, but were also much longer in terms of body proportions, with longer crescent shaped tails. Smaller individuals were noted with a more were being referred to as a “Long Fin Tooth Fish’, they were around 6.6 feet long, and had more stout and short conical teeth, while their set back dorsal fin and under tail fin were long and tall, looking like a sort of pair of daggers. Their coloration was a dark blue back that faded into a cream colored belly as a form of defensive countershading. The larger variety however was slightly different. Much larger, the ones being dragged in with the help of three to four people, and usually three more on standby if it turns out to not have exhausted itself in the night, were around ten feet long, and being referred to as a “Rear Fin Tooth Fish”. Their coloration was a prominently countershaded body that was divided between a dark greyish blue back and the silvery white belly, divided by the lateral line between the two pigments. There were a row of large blotchy spots that ran along the lateral line as well, and the fins, the dorsal and under tail fins were both a bright pinkish red as well. The teeth on them were also larger, with them being about an inch long, and in less neat rows that lined the mouth of them. However it was much rarer it seems, as despite the hundreds of the fanged trout/lancetfish hybrid looking ones, and dozens of the Long-Fin Tooth fish, only about eleven of these were being dragged in by the time the last set of lines were being grabbed and unbound from the stone pillars.

In spite of this, whoops and cheers sounded whenever one was being dragged up. Multiple people were needed to hoist these fish onto carts that were being brought in to help transport all of the fish and crustaceans being caught and bring them presumably to the market or otherwise to curing mills. As they worked however, a younger man who wasn't nearly as grizzled as the others had reached for one of the lines in order to drag it in. However, all was not well. It was more taught then the others, and the second pointman who was there to serve as help was already telling him that he should probably leave it, but he dismissed the worries, reasoning that the line was taught as the fish had drifted out towards the sea in its exhaustion. He got the loop off over the short pillar, whatever was on the end of the line suddenly burst to life. The pointman jumped to grab him as both men were immediately yanked nearly eight feet towards the water in less than two seconds, as the screams and yells erupted. The younger man was yelling as he tried to claw at the wire wrapped around his wrist as he yelled to everyone he couldn't get it off of his wrist. More people were jumping on to try and stop him from being dragged into the water, which had slowed the pace, but it was still dragging them ever closer to the water with every tug on the taught line. But by the time they managed to slow it to a crawl from the edge of the dock, they had little more than a strides worth of distance.

The Pureblood’s head suddenly snapped in the direction of the commotion, her blood-red eyes had a soft glow to them, as she concentrated wholly on it. Before Garnet could even raise herself from the bench, Matoimaru had already set off, all-but sprinting down the dock, dodging, weaving, and jumping over the many obstacles and people between her and the dangerous situation down the way. As she ran, she shoved her right hand into her coat pocket, and pulled out a pair of thick, black leather over gloves, which she then held with her teeth as she put them on and secured them over her thinner, dress gloves she already had on. Now finding herself at the midst of the tug-of-war between man and beast, she decided to jump in at the front of the line, pulling backwards with enormous strength. The narrow, braided steel line began to have just enough give in it to release the young, previously dismissive man from its grasp, letting him fall over to the side, as he writhed in pain from his now internally shredded right arm. She then lessened her strength slightly so the line would become taught yet again, but not enough as to keep them moving towards the edge. Taking the opportunity, she readjusted her grip upon the line, which was now digging into, and doing some damage to her leather gloves, before turning her head a bit, and addressing the men behind her in a commanding voice, as if they were soldiers within her battalion.

“…Those who cannot grab onto the line just yet, standby to switch out with those who become too tired to continue! On her mark, we are to all pull back with our might in order to drain some strength from this beast, and gain some distance from the edge.”

A few were confused, before an older man, well built and seemingly respected, with grey streaks in his beard nodded as he turned his head to the others.

“When the lass says pull, I want ye all to pull like it's the last bone in the ribs!”

The wolf confidently nodded in approval, before counting down.

“Ready…Steady……PULL!”

Yanking on the braided steel with her might, she and the crew behind her were able to gain a few steps from the icy-cold water below. More rips and lacerations became apparent upon her leather gloves, as the young man who unfortunately started this whole debacle had been now helped over to a nearby bench to lie down on.

After a few more minutes of holding the line steady, she gave another command.

“If you are too tired, now is the time to switch out, as we are going to give a good tug one more time to gather more distance from the water.”

Without missing a beat, about six men tapped out, as six more came in before the slack line could be taken advantage of by the fish below

Glancing back, she saw a handful of fresh faces, eager to help, for which she issued another countdown to pull.

“Ready……Steady……PULL!”

The foreign Empress and her new impromptu legion of fisherman pulled with all their might, taking a few more steps back from the edge of the dock, before holding their ground for a time.

Men were starting to gather at the edge with gaffs at the ready. Massive metal poles with equally imposing hooks, though many were of the flying variety. Along with this, a few kept watch over the waterline in order to see how it would breach, if at all. But with everyone now at a more comfortable distance, more and more people started to grab on to the long line to help bring the unknown monster to shore.

Now noticing more and more people grab on, she readjusted her grip, then issued another order to pull.

“On her mark we are to pull again.”

She gave a small pause, allowing those behind her to readjust their grip.

“Ready…Steady……PULL!”

This time, the braided steel moved back farther than ever, allowing it to shift up, as a large splash was seen, spraying the dock in front of them. But what happened next was quite the shock to all the others around them more focused on the water. The men looking over the edge of the docks began to yell wildly, the gaff sticks being lowered down as teams of three, totalling about six people as they lowered the hook laden poles down in order to secure whatever was splashing and spraying the ice cold seawater over the edge onto land. And before any of the onlookers could really say anything, one of the men holding a gaff, quite possibly for dear life, began calling for a crossbow, which had someone run off, most certainly to retrieve said arm. Seconds dragged on for seemingly eons as everyone combined struggled against the fish, which was being called a ‘Giant Tooth Fish’. Soon the man who ran off to retrieve the projectile weapon had returned, wielding a quite large and robust crossbow, the bolt clearly designed to pierce heavy armor.

The Empress looked on, as a steel-piercing heavy crossbow was carried over to another dock to her right, keeping out of the way of the men in front of it, until it could be readied in the right position. A slight smirk crossed her lips, as she muttered something under her breath.

“…A military implement, eh? We must be bringing in quite the catch…”

The man held the crossbow up as he took aim at the beast below, still obscured to everyone save the man with the gaffs and the crossbow, though a crowd has begun to form as talk of a Giant Tooth Fish begun to spread, the commotion drawing said crowd to as close as they considered safe, though thankfully for everyone occupied with bringing the fish in to shore, have stayed clear and given them their appropriate space. The man though, exhaled, the cloud of fog left his lungs as he steadied his aim. The end of the crossbow, once having a slight sway and tremble, now stood still, as he waited for his mark to present a good shot. He yelled for the rest to brace, as coinciding with a lurch from the line, he pulled the trigger. The ‘fwack’ of the crossbow firing was quickly drowned by the massive lurch and spasms that resulted from the bolt presumably hitting true. Spray of the water soon subsided as the line began to rapidly grow slack, as the fish seemed to have been dispatched, any struggle ceasing. It was quick work to bring it close to the dock, and then following that, the gaffs helped pull it up with timed pulls and hauls from the linemen and the polemen. What was brought over the edge and onto the dock was a veritable shock. It was clearly related to the Long Fin and Rear Fin Tooth Fish, bearing the same fin and head profile of both the Long Fin and Rear Fin, but more pronounced and tarpon-like, and a long, deep body. Compared to most large predator fish of its size, it was quite laterally compressed, but not to the degree of the smaller relatives, which could be quite narrow from what was brought to shore already, but this one? It was wider, and by a good margin, nowhere near as laterally compressed, it seemed to be trying to emulate the bullet shaping of other large marine predators to a haphazard degree, but even then, it still was showcasing the ancestral condition of its body shape. It seemed built for explosive speed, its tail long and crescent shaped, reaching to the height of even garnet, as past the dorsal and under tail fins the body rapidly tapered to a narrow anchor for said tail fin. The body itself had countershading, the belly was white but it gradually shifted towards a dark greyish blue before soon a bluish black at the top, marked with mottled black stripes to further disrupt the profile of the animal from the top. Its body was coated with large ctenoid scales, though their massive size and thickness indicated unusual adaptations, and probably would prove quite tough to pierce, but the head was a completely different matter. If the scales were the beasts mail armor, the head was definitely the plate. It was covered and thick, bony plates, which while well articulated, could very much ward off a large manner of punishment in order to protect the fishes vital areas, but while blood leaked from the mouth, the shaft of the crossbow bolt was planted firmly just behind the eyes of the entire thing, another rivulet of blood flowing down as it seemed that from the way the plates were chipped and gouged around the hole, were in fact plates of thick bone. The mouth was partially agape, presenting the very tarpon-like maw, but with massive, long, conical teeth at the edge.

After confirming there was no need to continually hold the line anymore, the Empress let go of it, before slowly inspecting what she had just helped to bring ashore. Large, conical teeth made up its large mouth, which was angled steeply upwards towards its proverbial snout, giving it the potential to have quite the wide opening, not unlike some examples she’s seen back home. That, and its fin structure and bony head area made it quite clear to her what kind of fish they had brought in. Although, having said that, she had never seen something quite like it before. Sure, it shared characteristics from other fish she’s seen, but never combined in such a way as to resemble what was laid out in front of her.

“…This is quite something, alright…”

The wolf mused, before squatting down to get a better look at the individual scales themselves. She then took off her now somewhat ruined leather overgloves, as well as her black dress gloves, before running her bare fingertips over said scales, which had sharp and serrated edges, contrasted by smooth and silvery surfaces.

“…Hmmm…quite interesting…”

“…This one wonders what mother would think…”

She paused for a few moments, before standing, and looking over to her left, finding a certain fox approaching her, a mixed expression on her face.

“…Everything okay, Maru?”

A gentle smile now found itself upon the wolf’s face, after hearing a tone of care from the one she held dear the most.

“…Yes, dear. Just some damaged gloves, and hands that may be somewhat sore and red tomorrow.”

The fox took the wolf’s much larger and calloused right hand with both of her own, and ran her dainty gloved fingers down her palm, as if checking their condition. Seemingly satisfied, she gently let it slip from her grasp, before beginning to look over and fuss with various pieces of the Empress’ uniform which had gone astray during the commotion.

“…I understand the want to help, but, did you really have to make such attention for ourselves after not even five minutes upon setting foot into these lands?”

Maru looked around, now noticing various looks and stares from the locals, some displaying surprise, some curiousness, and others admiration. She then looked down at her wife, who was still concentrating on adjusting her uniform, and spoke in an almost reassuring tone.

“…This one is an Empress, it is her responsibility to help the common masses, even if they are not her own; And besides, Mother was an experienced fisherman, she would have done the same thing.”

Shizu let out a small sigh, a smile forming on her own lips, before letting out a small chuckle.

“…I suppose she would…”

As they had their moment, one of the younger men came over, offering a small tip of his hat as he looked at the silver wolf with admiration

“Ma’am, I don't know how many times I can thank you, but I must ask, why has her majesty sent a shard for us?”

A rather perplexed expression befell the wolf’s face, as she looked down to her equally confused wife, then back up at the man, before speaking.

“…Shard? As in Garnet?”

“…No, no, this one no shard—But something close to it, she supposes…”

“I-I mean, you have to be one, yes? The ears and such aren't something often had.”

The Pureblood shrugged, before giving her own response.

“…Where this one is from, these features are quite regular, although they vary from race to race…”

“…Having said that, however, this one is sort of an outlier within civilization like a shard, and can see the similarities—Especially between herself and someone of Garnet’s stature…”

Her voice trailed off for a moment, before suddenly snapping back into reality.

“…But, let us not get bogged down with the pursuit of such trivial details. Let us share this bountiful catch with the masses, and feast well for at least this one day, for we were able to stop the potential for another soul to become lost to the seas, and that is an accomplishment worth celebrating, no?”

The Empress looked over to the bench the unfortunate young soul was laid down upon, and saw the man no longer writhing in agony, just simply clutching his upper arm in discomfort, as a few people worked on his wounds. There were two men hovering around her shoulder, who then counted to three, before a loud yelp and subsequent pop was heard, as they seemingly set his shoulder back into place.

“…”

She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them, and asking something in rather a quiet voice.

“…Make sure the young lad at least has enough food on the table for him and any family he may have, no matter if this situation was caused by his inexperience.”

The man simply shook his head at the sight

“Poor fool, should've known something was off when the line was taught like that… But the loop catching is something that does not have an explanation of incompetence though…

But fret not. The fool has a family, so he won't starve while he heals.”

“…That is good, that is good. One might say he was quite lucky to only be as stricken by the braided steel as he was. This, while still quite bad, will eventually heal to a decent extent. Any longer and he could have lost his arm, or be dragged off into the abyss.”

Maru paused for a moment, glancing down towards the braided wire, then back at the man.

“…Might she say that the quality and craftsmanship of your steel implements here is quite intriguing. This one noticed it upon Garnet’s tools and sword, but never knew it extended to even the everyman having ready access to it. This must mean a great access to these resources, right?”

The man sniffed

“Well, the land is bountiful, and the metals abound, but we must owe our techniques to Mythril, they taught us the way of the forge, and the ways to truly work metals.”

The wolf nodded respectfully, before speaking.

“…This person must be quite grand then, if you are holding them in such high regards. This one would quite like to meet them upon her stay, but perhaps, as with most all the greats, it will probably be in vain for something this short-notice, yes…”

“One would be correct. They're a highborne after all, and aside from the tales of old, or a great apostasy being committed, never bother with us.”

The Empress chuffed interestedly, as she mused for a moment, nodding sideways idly until commenting herself.

“Hmph, a highborne?”

“…That does make sense, yes.”

Her voice trailed off slightly, as if recalling back to memories of old.

“…”

“…The one within that grand hall was not necessarily of the apathetic kind, but did require persuasion to become helpful…”

The man shook his head in apprehension, clearly unnerved by what she was detailing.

“If you speak of what I believe you are, I'd consider yourself and whoever else partook in that favor as both blessed… and cursed.

They do nothing for free. And if you asked for enough, they consider the only adequate compensation being a claim over your very being.

Expensive… too expensive.”

The Empress shrugged, seemingly as if dismissing his qualms of the price being paid for the work being done.

“…A mere stake in this one’s soul was not too big of price to pay for the outcome—Even her friend in the shard you speak of believes it was a fair exchange.”

“…No matter how admittedly headstrong this one can be, her wife has kept her out of deep trouble for an amount of time only few can remember.”

The wolf chuckled heartily, before receiving a glare from said dainty wife, which caused her eyes to dart off to the left, where a sudden black blur caught her attention. Only being able to focus on it for a split second, a pair of two jet-black wings stacked up upon each other was present, as if only half of the complete figure was visible.

“Hmmm…”

“…Black wings…stacked?”

“…Hmmm…”

His eyes grew wide as the pureblood idly described what she glimpsed.

“An omen, a foreigner like you is to experience a change!”

Maru’s head snapped back towards her interlocutor, looking him up and down with a more stoic and serious gaze than before, yet not one that was empowered or commanding, before inquiring about what he had just said.

“…An ‘omen’ you say…”

“That does seem of importance. Would you mind elaborating further?”

The man did not flinch. He only shook his head at the woman, seemingly disappointed that they did not know what they had attracted.

“She is the Patron. The main object of worship for the entire Empire! She’s the Goddess of Death! She takes precedent even to our gods of the sea, the hunt, and of weather…”

“She only lets those she wants to witness her… And to catch a glimpse is an omen of imminent change. It might not be bad, but it might not be a good change, so you must shore yourself up to prevent disaster, for she forewarns against those who have grown lax and inattentive…”

“Hmmm…”

Her voice trailed off as she mused for a moment, her gaze growing distant, before suddenly snapping back to reality, as if she just connected two long-separated dots within her memories. Bringing her fist sideways down upon her open palm for effect, she remarked something with a bit of enthusiasm.

“Ohhhh…So that is who that figure was at the grand hall! That makes so much sense now!”

The light voice of Shizu suddenly chimed in as well in a rather knowing tone.

“…Honey, I told you two centuries ago to ask our dear friend who offered us that option in the first place, who that ‘figure’ was.”

The man shook his head in incredulity. Not seemingly surprised by their long lives, but more that they already encountered the Primordial Goddess of Death.

“I’d suggest you make haste to what you wished to do here, and make it quick if its close by me or this town, for while change is inevitable, it isn't obligated to affect us, only you.”

The wolf gave a light chuff and a smirk in light of their once friendly interlocutor now trying to shoo them away as quickly as possible.

“…Fret not, young one, for as this one cannot reveal much as a foreign leader in uncertain lands, she can quell your unease by telling you that this is town, while quite nice so far, not our final destination.”

She paused, as if trying to think of one last thing to ask the young local.

“…Oh, and one more question; Where is the best place in town to replace the damaged leather this one incurred upon her overgloves while assisting in the situation. It seems as if they might be of need again during our journey throughout these lands.”

The man was a bit confused by the tonal shift, but otherwise took it into stride

“Well.. that would likely be Holti’s, they’re the most reliable leatherworking shop around. Custom jobs will require time to make, but you might get lucky with some of the sizes they just make off the mill…”

The wolf raised her eyebrows for a moment, before seemingly internalizing the name within her mind for later use.

“…Holti’s…Yes, thank you, this one will remember it.”

Maru tipped her hat respectfully, before offering a goodbye.

“…This one quite appreciates the conversation you offered to an old, foreign soul like hers. Good day, and until next time, may your lines be tight…but not that tight, hehe.”

She chuckled, gesturing to the very large fish that was now starting to be processed for its bounties. The Empress and her Consort now began to make their way back to the friend they left behind at the crab table, walking with a natural air of regality.

Garnet glanced up haphazardly at the pair from where she was seated, a couple bowls, one of a simple broth with steam still rising from it, some sets of steaming crab legs and lobster tail, and a bowl with empty shells. The boils had already been going on for a while now, since they could not hope to sell all the catch, Garnet knew that, and so she partook in the tradition that was the morning breakfast-from-sea that Kjaransvik was famous for. A cup of weak beer was also on the table, though there were a few kegs of it already set up now that the townsfolk had come down to get their part in the overcatch. She had been idly watching as they butchered the massive Giant Tooth fish, already using cleavers to slice through the thick scales with ease, while they also split through the bony plates of the head with ease, having finally separated it from the rest of the body, and further processing was being underway as they scraped scales and skin off the fish.

The foreign duo took in the smells of the now finished breakfast and drink being served around them, before finding their original spots next to the old soldier, noticing the quite voluminous pile of empty shells in the wooden bowl beside the ones still with food in them. Maru removed the bolero black hat from the top of her head, and placed it down upon her lap, before adjusting herself on the bench to make herself more comfortable.

“…Well, it seems as if this one became a bit distracted from the ongoing meal, she hopes that you saved us some quite delectable seafood from these pots.”

Garnet continued to use her thumb and forefinger to pinch and subsequently crack open the shell of one of the larger crab legs, as the halves started to separate, revealing the steaming treasure within, she deftly plucked the piece of meat out, and quickly going to pop it into her mouth, chewing quickly before swallowing, clearly not as interested in solely savoring it, but also desperate for a meal that wasn't just salted meats and ships biscuits. A quick swig of sweet beer to wash it down as well, but as she cleared her throat, her answer was to the contrary.

“If you wish for some of what I have, unfortunately, it would require a duel, and for this, I play for blood.”

She began cracking open the lobster tail as she pinched the top of it, cracking the chitinous armor of the cooked crustacean.

“But, I can get someone to help you. I would apologize for the fact there will be no choices other than small requests, just a bit of everything, but I imagine you wont mind.”

She called over one of the runners, a scrawny looking boy who’s utility knife poorly mismatched his size to the point it looked like a full on dagger. Before quickly talking to him in a language that, while clearly Alkarian, was spoken in such a strange and seemingly slurred manner it could only be partly deciphered from the piles of metaphors, rhetoricals, and coastal slang, but one thing that could be deciphered, was her gesturing at the small Foxsu and likening her to a stunted plant. She made to then flick a glistening gold coin into his hands that he quickly caught making a short bow as he ran off to fetch the food as per her request.

“I do apologize, but these morning feasts tend to require a couple minutes to serve, no instant delicacies here, but they taste better with anticipation…”

Maru waved her hand dismissively, before adjusting her hat so she was able to cross her legs.

“…All good things come with a price, no matter how big or small they may be. A small wait is no worry.”

All the while her wife sat with a regal expression, taking a moment to clean her glasses, before closing her eyes. She then took in a deep breath, and exhaled, opening one eyes to look at the shard, then the other, before turning her gaze back forwards again, and putting her glasses back on. Drawing in another breath, she spoke with a noble and gilded voice.

“…My, my. Striking below the belt, are we, Lady Garnet?”

Garnet made a noise in a faux warning to a nonexistent crowd.

“Be alert everyone! It seems the bonsai tree has more to say, and none to grow!”

Taking on a slightly snarkier tone to her voice, the small fox picked up a small pebble from the ground, before idly moving it within her palm.

“…Very funny coming from the woman who has to worry if every piece of wooden furniture she sits upon will break.”

Garnet waved off her concerns.

“That may be true, but you know what they say, stones, glass houses, you know the rest, miss I-need-a-booster-seat.”

Shizu raised her eyebrows, before offering up her own coated reply.

“…Bonsai trees are kept for their looks, and intricacy required in care, so perhaps I should take your words as a compliment…Lady Garnet.”

But before she could make another teasing response, the trays had arrived at the small table, with rather identical looking trays, but it seems Shizu had drawn either a lucky plate or a sympathetic fisherman, for it had an extra lobster tail and an additional set of lobster claws.

Taking a moment to admire the food in front of them, both the fox, and the wolf removed their formal gloves, before digging into their freshly caught and prepared plate of seafood. A silence lulled between them, as they seemingly were concentrating on not wasting a single bit of the first proper meal that did not include mainly ship’s biscuits and dried meat. Taking time to sip the sweet beer they had been served in between the different items, they savored the rich buttery and garlic flavor of the meat with hints of other herbs and spices mixed in as well. The Empress Consort herself also quite enjoyed the small bowl of a spicy horseradish dip, while neither foreigner touched the bowl of a brown fermented fish sauce. The shard, however, was more open to it, having now regularly dipped her food into the strong smelling concoction, seemingly much warmer to the idea of eating it than either the Woltsu or Foxsu, who both gave her an intermittent side-eye, before continuing. Garnet had taken a piece of crab meat and dipped it into the small bowl before popping it into her mouth.

“You know, it tastes a lot better than it smells, it's more salt and savory than anything actually rotting.”

Shizu narrowed her gaze at the soldier, before letting out a suspicion-filled agreeance.

“…Mmhmm…”

Maru, on the other hand, was simply enjoying the seafood as it was prepared, not bothering with either of the sauces presented.

“…If this was in the summer, the only thing this one would request was some lemon slices. However it is simply great as-is.”

Garnet hummed in thought at that.

“Yeah that would be nice… unfortunately it's too cold here to get lemons…”

“…Perhaps this one shall return once it has warmed up, yes…”

The wolf’s voice trailed off, as she took a small bite of some lobster meat.

“…But for now, this one shall focus on the bounties in front of her, and not be jealous of what the future may bring.”

Another silence lulled between the trio, as they each began to finish up their platters. Maru took a semi-deep breath, then sighed, wiping her face and hands with a handkerchief she kept in her pocket, before stretching her back slightly.

“…Well, she supposes that we must allow others to have their fill now that we are finished.”

Reaching back into her internal coat pocket, she shoved her now used handkerchief into it, before pulling out two silver coins of relative thickness, tossing them gently within her semi-closed hand for a moment. She then set them on the table, seemingly for all to see, revealing their rather crude circular shape, as if their mass was more important than their presentation. Speaking of presentation, each held the inverse stamp of a wolf’s head on one side, and a crown on the other. The coins were quite dense for their size too, being rather thick, as they made a slight clatter when being dropped onto the table from a couple inches above it. The Empress then stood, before putting her hat and dress gloves back on, then extending out her right hand to gracefully help Shizu back to her feet. The wolf then did a full body stretch, extending her arms up, and lifting her body up onto her toes, as her tail whipped back and forth rapidly for a few moments, before falling back into an idle swish.

“…One of the locals recommended a leather shop by the name of Holti’s for a set of replacement overgloves. This one would like to visit there and place an order for the aforementioned workwear.”

“After that, she supposes it would be time to take care of whatever local bureaucracy needs to be done to make sure the ship lays untouched here until we must depart. Then perhaps some lodging for the night, or however long until we depart for the capital.”

As Garnet finished the last of the crab, savoring the taste of it, she glanced back towards her friend as she considered her words. Yeah, they do need to get replacement gloves, but she’d hope for some time between it, or to just straight shot right to Tálknagur, but it couldn't be helped.

“Well, it should be in the town, I can probably guide you to it, never really been there more than a handful of times, but it's a landmark for the locals.”

The Empress shrugged, before taking the dainty hand of her wife within her gentle grasp.

“…That is fair. A guided tour of the sights and sounds would be quite lovely, however.”

Garnet acquiesced at this eagerness, but she herself was doubtful that they'd be able to pull off a whole guided tour without making her want to drag them to the Imperial Palace herself, but she could humor them a bit.

“Well, if we follow the road from the docks over there, we can get into the city itself. Straight on until the plaza with its market, it will have Holti’s as part of it; he operates his leatherworks in it. And it gives me an opportunity to get some new armor, since Andrés is very close by. It will also give you some time to try the food and the atmosphere.”

Walkies Logistics NCT Distribution Warehouse, Northern Csevaljsk, Zeneslav

The agent with a gray head of hair forced the van back into first gear as he came to a stop after entering through a roller door into the large interior of the warehouse. Going a little deeper in he suddenly stomped on the brake pedal which caused their guest in the back to fly forward into his seat once again, for like the fourth time on that journey.

“Nach bhféadfadh sibh é a cheangal isteach?”
Could ye not have strapped him in?

“Thiomáin tú an veain ar shiúl ró-thapa, agus thóg ceamara pictiúr dínn.”
You drove the van off too quickly, and got us clocked by a camera

His colleague in the passenger seat said as he opened the door and stepped out of the van.

“A Chom! Thóg ceamara luais an t-amadán seo — an féidir leat í a athsholáthar?”
Com! This dumb*** got clocked by a speed camera can you change her out?

Another Canine approaching them wearing a safety vest and a hard hat, stared at the driver in a disappointing way and nodded his head before ordering some other workers over to remove the van.

All Leoslav could hear from the back was a bunch of yelling, gibberish and the incessant beeping of a forklift, up until he heard the side door sliding open and him suddenly getting yanked out of the van by what felt like two people.

“Tóg chuig an oifig é”
Take him to the office

The commander said as he shifted his focus back to repainting and registering the van. Leoslav was walked down through a corridor, white fluorescent lights shining through the bag on his head, it felt like he was being walked along a carpeted floor until he was taken through a doorway and sat down on a hard plastic chair, with a notable hole on the back, the zip ties which had bound his hands now suddenly cut free and the bag finally removed to reveal a blinding light. Leoslav winced and covered his eyes for a second before they adjusted and he could see the sight in front of him.

Two demi-canines sat in front of him across a wooden desk, one male, one female, another Full Canine stared at him while leaning against the wall in the corner of the room, finally another demi-canine, the one who he had seen smoking before he was taken, walked into view before nodding at the other canines and leaving the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
The Agent assigned to interrogate him was chosen for her gentleness and past interrogations with sympathisers and double agents. All she could see was a minister, scared for his life, frantically looking around the room, until he started speaking in Zenesk to the canineians. Saying some sentences with stutters and a pleading voice. The agent turned to her colleague, asking a silent question of him

“He’s asking where he is and for us not to kill him”

The agent turned and smiled at Leoslav

“Minister we are not here to hurt you, we only want to ask you questions”

Her colleague turned her sentence into Zenesk and spoke it clearly to Leoslav who seemed more confused yet still anxious

“I am agent Saibh, this is agent Colin”

The translator didn’t translate that one, knowing Leoslav could understand enough common to know what that means, acknowledged by the fact that he suddenly glanced over at the dog in the corner

“You don’t need to know his name” Colin spoke in Zenesk before Saibh took over by taking a sheet of paper out of a bag and sliding it across the table to Leoslav.

It was a letter, with the word Rúnda stamped in red across it, yet still showing the highlighted letters underneath spelling out “Help Me Please”, the same letter Leoslav had written before but with a new watermark on top, in plain common, he could see the words “Canine Security Bureau” written across the top, that's when he seemed to realise who his captors were, and the look of fear he had since the bag was removed had increased.

“We caught this on the way to Mister Greenrock’s office, I will admit not very subtle for an encoded message, but I have read many before, I can understand enough to know this was desperate, a cry for help that you prayed would be read”

Agent Saibh explained before taking a pause to allow the translator to explain it clearer to Leoslav.

“So tell me Minister, what is it that you so desperately need help with”

Leoslav only remained still, visibly shaking as he looked at Saibh, fear clearly showing in his eyes, all he could think about was if she truly was who she was, or if this was all a trap by the KSB.

Saibh could see the fear and doubt in him, she turned around to the Canine standing in the corner and gave him a nod, prompting him to leave the room for a brief moment. It was a silent, awkward moment as the Canines and Minister waited for that Canine to return, Saibh giving quick reassuring smiles and nods to Leoslav who kept looking down at the letter she handed him.

After a minute, the Canine came back into the room, carrying a can of a Zenesk soda brand and a bag of crisps, he closed the door again and put them in front of Leoslav, before returning to his corner again.

“Unfortunately this is all we currently have but we hope that it will help you to trust us, we are not trying to deceive you or hurt you minister, trust me”

Saibh pleaded as Leoslav cracked open the can and drank from it, he didn't know whether they knew him from spying on him or if it was just a lucky guess but they did give him his favourite soda and crisps. He looked back at the two agents, finally seeming to understand where he was.

While stuttering a little at first he began speaking in Zenesk to the translator who nodded and began working the sentence into common.

“He says he thought it was the only way he could think of to alert someone else to the circumstance, that he was forced to write the letter to Greenrock” Colin said as he turned to Saibh

“Who forced you to write the letter? Karlevesk?” Saibh asked Leoslav directly

Leoslav only shook his head and muttered out

“Minister Vjktòrjèv”

Saibh turned around to the Canine in the corner who handed her a dossier, she promptly looked through it before stopping on one of the pages

“The Minister for Public Security?” she asked Leoslav confused

Leoslav only nodded

“He’s commander of the KSB, likely he is behind sending the Hunds”

Leoslav looked at them confused before Saibh asked another question

“Okay but what is it that you need help with? Is it to do with Vjktòrjèv?”

Leoslav went on a speech that was quickly translated by Colin

“He says the Government is in uproar currently, that Karlevesk has blackmailed the Chieftain and Vjktòrjèv is in on it, forcing the other cabinet members to assist in the blackmailing, including sending a message to Greenrock about the Zenesks helping with the Tunnel project, in hopes they could somewhat control it, but he is not sure about the last part.”

Saibh thought for a moment before turning around to the Canine in the corner once again

“Cuir an ceannasaíocht ar an eolas nach í an Príomh-Aire b’fhéidir an fhadhb is mó atá againn”
Inform command that the PM may not be our biggest problem

The Canine left the room once again, Leoslav could see him taking out a mobile phone as he shut the door behind him, leaving him with Saibh and Colin.

“Where Minister Vejnaar?” Leoslav asked in broken common

Saibh looked to Colin and nodded

“We lost track of the minister a few hours ago, so have the KSB from the sounds of it, why do you ask?” Saibh said as Colin translated

Leoslav would explain how Vejnaar was his mentor and one of the only other ministers to go against the blackmail plans.

Saibh turned back to Leoslav and thought for a moment before the metaphorical lightbulb suddenly appeared above her head.

“Where would Minister Vejnaar go?”

After establishing the town of Źèèrmj Stand as the most probable place the Minister would have went the CSB would turn cogs to unite the two ministers once again, in hopes they could stir some chaos among the cabinet, exactly an edge they need.

The way of getting Leoslav there was less optimal, with KSB agents actively searching for him he couldn't go by rail or by car, so in a cliche move, they would have to take him over it. By means of strapping him to a balloon and having a Bernard-5 plane swoop in, grab him and air drop him into the town.

Much to the dismay of Leoslav who would make his dislike of the plan well known by screaming when the plane grabbed him.

Central Watchdog Monitoring Station, Canidae Harbour, Federal Territory, Canineia

Ever since the introduction of the watchdog system the job of the Canpol Intelligence Bureau had become significantly easier, finally a mass connected closed network of cameras, microphones and personal devices all used to find out what citizens were up to without their knowledge. It was a system introduced when Canineia was desperately trying to fight drug cartels who would often use kidnapping and torture to force investigators into submission, but with the introduction of Microchips, Watchdog and the Domestic Security Act they were able to swiftly shut down gangs and cartels and shift focus to oher threats such as would be criminals, and enemy espionage agents, exactly what they were monitoring now.

CIB had received a tip off from both the CSB and SRB that a bunch of Zenesk Canines were booking flights and trains to Princeborough and Canidae Harbour, a suspicious amount. It was a counter invasion of spies, entering in the same way the CSB spies had entered into Zeneslav. While the Border and Customs Authority could stop them at the gates they were not so easy to catch. The CIB’s job was easy all along, all they had to deal with when it came to counter-intelligence was humans as most international agencies hadn’t incorporated Canines into their ranks, meaning most agents stood out, except for Zenesk-Canines, now they had a major problem to deal with. Canine agents could easily enter Government buildings with the right identification and microchip, which if the KSB was good enough they could easily acquire and the CIB did not want to test that theory.

They quickly sent officers to the Watchdog monitoring centre to tell the staff there to begin building digital profiles of their visitors and to advise other monitoring centres in the West to start following any Zenesk that entered the country, and to keep a constant eye on those most likely to enter government buildings, basically everyone.

CIB officers identified several key targets for the Zenesk agents, including the Western Tunnel construction site, the CTC offices, and the Directorate of Transport. It was obvious that the CIB would be very busy over the next few days as they watched the enemy enter into their hotels, apartments and offices. Cameras across the nation would track agents movements, watching everything they do amongst the public who were none the wiser to the situation, unlike the Chieftain who was about to be informed by the Deputy Commissioner.

This generalized meeting was very good the meal was immaculate, Her majesty requested to meet with his Majesty King Edward VII she lifts her glass of wine. “Your exellceny Miss Jackson with all due respect these treaties on the table being that the Tongans are continuously growing at a steady pace we also place on the table these ones with equal standing that we have a voice within our friendship and new alliance. The Empire indeed wishes for any friendship or relationship between two nations to strengthen us both but not one should use the other for power.”

She then takes a sip of the wine and waves her hand for those at the door. A couple of royal guards come in with a large 5x100 foot ngatu.

“This here is a representation of our long standing relationship. This has been made by our elders who understand the creation of long standing relations with our friendly allies we concider such. Keep this with you and understand that power isnt through control but seeks to understand the wealth of the knowledge that our elders have and the striveness that our young people have.”
She lets the guards know to put the ngatu somewhere safe for Miss Jackson to take

“Now onto this subject again. Though we do not consider the Germans to our north as a power house more as a friend and economic ally. We too seek to understand what drastic changes that made our Germanic sibilings upnorth to unrealistically move us into its own sphere of influence economically and militarily when we infact created out military from the ground up with the influence of an old corporate state that infused into what we know as the 4 pillar foundation. I have some plans to help our government here in the Empire to push for more drastic mesures to let the nations around Strangereal that the Greater Tongan Empire is seeking an equal but powerful voice being that our claim to this land is and will always be officalised so we do take this offer as already friendly with you our British siblings with the equalised help of your industry and our might of our tech industry that we should inforce such tactics inorder for both our nations to be an equal voice within the regional area of eastern Usonea. We also agree to your offer with military trainings that we have learned from our past enforcement of taking land in Budon creating what is now Amadeus.”

Her majesty then shifted in her seat to get more comfortable

“Miss Jackson, I want to ask again to meet His Majesty King Edward VII seeing fit that if we are to look at one another with equal intention. I am not asking with an ill intent I see it fit to be meeting more with His Majesty in order to strengthen our nation's friendship. We offer our full approval for the deepening economic relationship, military excercises, and friendly diplomatic friendship for both nations”

She ends of with a proverb in tongan (translation) Holo pe tu'u he ko e ngalu e fasi

“Stand firm for the waves will break”

Outside the Tonga embassy in London Proper a demonstration was taking place. Protest by Sunatra community and her allies in London. They protested the growing ties between Tonga and the Kingdoms due to the Kingdoms supporting the tyrannical government in the Hondo Dominion. Chants to remember the Trell Massacre, chants to remember those who merely demonstrated for equal rights with the Toi majority. The demonstration was not, large a hundred people at most. They had the rights to such a demonstration even without the government’s approval, the less than a dozen police officers simply milled around, violence was not expected.

Galway sat in the Kingdoms most western island. A rather empty island had been the last stop for crusaders in the 13th and 14th century on there way to Fusea to protect the Trinitist Kingdoms from heathen invaders. Some would set out for what was now the Hondo dominion instead. At the height of the Kingdoms empire it had been a large port city, the gateway to the far east. Now, it had shrunk, by the 1940s the city had lost over two thirds of its population at its height. Much of the new town had abandoned left to rot and overgrown by nature. One of the attempted government work programs of the 1960s would see much of the new town demolished, yet the nation lacked the funds to build the new city it had planned. It would be a royal led and funded program in the later 1990s that see the town revitalised. Reconstruction in the old 19th century style with all the amenities expected in the late 20th century. Now with its old cathedral dating back to the 15th, small population and the large Royal owned manor house overlooking the western coast made it a good place for foreign meetings like this one.

It had begun to rain when Her Majesty Queen Lavinia Mana Tupou XVIII pulled up on the Royal Manor. The lack of any press was interestingly, she had seen a handful at the airport but not the masses she had expected. She stepped out and was greeted by Edward who was holding an umbrella above her.
“Welcoming your majesty.”
He bowed slightly and smiled. This caused some of the rain to get past the umbrella and hit her, just a few drops. They were both then led inside the warm late 18th century style building. They past the oak stairs to lounge. They all talked as they walked. Edward was focused on the weather, apologising that they had picked a day with such bad weather. When asked about the lack of press coverage he shrugged, he said there was something happening in south Fusea that had all of the media attention. It was probably for the best he argued, the press can really be annoying, always looking for the next big clip rather than actually reporting on the wider story. Miss Jackson added, how the Kingdoms government had gone to great lengths to keep this meeting quiet, it was important for the kingdoms hence keeping the press away.

They all warm up in the lounge over some warm wine, good tea and a good plateau of cheeses. The small talk was in Her Majesty boring. Edward had a poor grasp about what was going on within his own nation and just as poor understanding of hers or the rest of the world. Though not rude he clearly was just a face. The lunch, a classic Sunday roast was good but the company remained less than stellar. He had a few good things to say about her farther, he once again sent his and his nation condolences for her loss. He did ask a few questions about Tonga and at least seemed interested in the response. When asked about the Kingdoms he gave good answers yet she was growing confident that she perhaps knew more about what was going on in the nation then he did.

At last the conversation would turn towards the treaty. Here Edward did show some shine talking about it, he rather simplified it as,
“We get you expertise and another market to sell into. You gets all the markets we have accessed which is a good slice of the world. Not to mention how us both get leverage over both the Germans and the Hinterferre chaps up north. Though I get mutual concern over the later, I thought we where friends with the former?”
Edward turned towards Miss Jackson who seemed a little flustered, before she spoke
“We are still your Majesty, we are simply seeking other partners, just as Tonga should. Relying on the region hegemon can leave us all weak, stagnate under a false sense of security. Something which we have found out during different crisis weather it be the League or Listovia doesn’t always have the exact same alignment of interests.”
Edward blinked a few times before turning back to Her Majestry. “Translating that I think it means we are seeking a stronger hand just in case something goes wrong and they won’t bail us out.”
Miss Jackson kept a polite face, but Lavinia could tell that lack of tact rubbed her the wrong way.

The final interesting topic before the end of the dinner was Edward late brother, the last King. Edward, who had been happy, polite yet seemingly always ill informed grew cold on the topic. He talked about it sparingly. His brother had been rather involved in the Kingdoms politics, seeing himself as a defender of the poor and forgotten of the nation. He had been caught siphoning funds into the now defunct socialist party. The scandal had forced him to abdicate, before going into self imposed exile. He, his wife and Edward only nephew would die in a home invasion. It explained Edward ignorance, he was keeping himself distant from politics to avoid meeting a fate similar to his brother, he seemed truly shaken. Edward had kept some of the charities his brother had used as fronts to siphon funds going but to actual use helping the poor and the sick. If all royal charities and organisations linked to healthcare were combined they would be the fourth largest healthcare provider in the Kingdoms. The largest for the bottom third of income earners, never profitable but important keeping much of the nation healthy.

The dinner would end, Edward would see Her Majesty off. Giving her a lovely set of teas and a particular rare 17th century pistol, it had been one used in the last Civil war the Kingdoms had. On the drive back, she rode with Miss Jackson. Miss Jackson spoke.
“That was lovely, no?”
She was clearly tying to press for the treaty, but it was Her Majesty choice if this had been enough to win her over.