Bermudez Conference: February 1915

[The Rock Doctor]

27 January 1915: d'Anghiera, Bermudez

D'Anghiera Harbour was no scene of frenetic activity this day; a few small fishing boats, a tramp freighter loading a cargo of flower bulbs destined for the Confederation of Five Nations, another coaling in anticipation of carrying on to Europe.  The Union's visible naval presence was limited to a depot ship with two small submarines tied up alongside – while a protected cruiser was assigned to the station, it was clearly at sea in some capacity.

"Finally," Anton Borowiecki, the Union's Minister of Foreign Affairs, murmured as land drew ever closer.

"No doubt, sir," his Senior Advisor, Karl Schlaggert, replied. 

"This is why I stayed out of the navy," Borowiecki said. 

While the train ride from Vilnius to Amsterdam had been scenic and relaxing – other than the occasional deluge of coded telegrams at various stops – the cruise across the Atlantic had been distinctly non-scenic and quite rough in places.  Borowiecki had, more than once, noted to himself that next time he should accept the offer of a battleship, no matter how silly it felt.  The ship he'd actually borrowed, OZW Fulda, had been rather...lively...during the worst of the weather. 

"The governor's administration advises that preparations are a bit behind, but will be completed in time for the conference nonetheless," Schlaggert noted.  "I'm more than happy to take matters in hand if you wish to regain your land-legs.  The town itself is no pearl, but not unpleasant either."

Borowiecki shook his head.  "It might be good to just sit in a chair that isn't moving in three dimensions first.  If I start hiking across the town in this state I'm liable to be arrested on suspicion of public intoxication."

Schlaggert smiled.  "At any rate, Sir, the agenda has the Governor meeting us at the waterfront for a quick motor-car tour of the immediate area-"

"Did they manage to acquire enough motor-cars for our purposes?"

"I understand we've rented most of the serviceable examples on the island, and perhaps a couple that are not."

"Fair.  Apologies, I interrupted.  Carry on."

Schlaggert nodded.  "The tour will give us a quick look at the venues.  The governor's mansion will host the conference itself – it's just large enough to accommodate the three delegations, with a few rooms re-arranged or emptied of their usual furnishings.  We've rented the homes of two local land-owners, Mr. Clausen and Mr. Vandevliert, both of them relatively large manors by island standards and sufficient for at least the senior members of each delegation to sleep comfortably in.  The juniors might be somewhat crowded, though.  We've arranged for the household servants to support the Roman and Aztec delegations being put up there and signed them to National Security Confidentiality agreements to ensure their lawful conduct."

"What of the hosts?"

"The Clausens are staying with friends in town; Mr. Vandevliert and companion are fortuitously on business in Choco.  We ourselves have procured some space at the home of a third local gentleman, Herr Lang, who will be present but can be trusted to be discreet and respect our privacy.  A number of the staff will, however, continue to sleep and shower aboard the ship."

"Perhaps we should have chosen a different – and larger - venue after all," Borowiecki said.

"I did suggest Johannestadt, Sir."

"I remember," Borowiecki sighed.  "Oh well, we'll make the best of it.  With luck, the lack of distractions and limited accommodation will help the belligerents concentrate on concluding a peace..."

[The Rock Doctor]

OOC Notes:

-Please post OOC commentary in the general Caicos Affair Discussion thread rather than here, unless you're a participant needing to append OOC notes to an IC post.  Yes, I know this post breaks the rules, sue me.

-Only Rome and the Aztecs were invited to the conference; other parties were not.

-I do not expect it would be reasonable for other parties to establish an overt commercial or covert intelligence presence on Bermudez, but ultimately leave that decision to the Moderator.

-The Roman delegation has been assigned to the Vandevliert estate, the Aztec delegation to the Clausen estate.  Notionally, each estate is gated, with a large house including several bedrooms, a couple of bathrooms, and a few dining/sitting/living rooms.  There's probably a couple of acres of gardens to enjoy or pitch a tent in, as desired.

-A cook, butler, and housekeeper are available to tend to domestic duties and the chiefs of staff for each delegation will be advised about the servants being sworn to the National Security Confidentiality Agreement.  The Agreement basically says that the servants can't talk to anybody else about what they see or hear.  I leave it to the delegations to decide whether they think this means Union spooks will refrain from interviewing them after the fact.

-Both delegations will have a couple of cars made available to them, along with maps and driving instructions if required.  In dire emergencies, the host estates' butlers can do some driving.

-The town is pretty small and can likely be walked from end to end in twenty minutes or so; it would be difficult to get lost.  The size and relative obscurity of the town/island means that actual lodging/hotel space is limited and generally crappy, hence it not being used.

-The weather is dry with highs around 20-25 C.  It's winter, after all.

-Notionally I figure I'll give snip and Tac time to post a pre-conference write-up, then actually have Minister Borowiecki begin the conference afterward.

[snip]

January 29th, 1914. Somewhere in the Atlantic aboard the IRS Respublica.

Capitan Vincenzo D'Onofrio found it both a blessing and a hindrance that the Respublica was the only undamaged capital unit remaining among the Imperial Navy forces in the New World. Given the lack of battle scars was not for lack of trying, D'Onofrio was less bothered by being selected to take the portion of the diplomatic delegation needed from Novus Francia to the Willnoan flagged rock where terms were to be discussed. D'Onofrio tended to keep opinions of a political nature to himself, having found the caustic rhetoric he tended to favor did not help to persuade others to his views. What he held closely of these new circumstance was that the political will was all that had failed here. The military had begun to do its job, but the politicians refused to give them the time to do it while balking at the cost. A cost they should have been ready to pay one hundred fold, in D'Onofrio's opinion. As such, D'Onofrio had mostly ignored the diplomats aboard as the Respublica steamed for the Bahamas. D'Onofrio hoped that the Atlantic Fleet had not sent anything grander and that should anything happen back around the Southern Bahamas that Respublica would get a chance to earn battle scars.

Approaching Bermudez, aboard the IRS Solène Girard

Bastien Mancini, special envoy appointed by Interim Foreign Minister Albin Confortola, would have preferred to have spent the unfolding morning looking out over the Adriatic Sea. There he could have been gently kissed by the morning sunshine and his wife of nearly fifty years. Later, he perhaps would have drifted into town from the villa to see his grandchildren. Instead, he was watching the island of Bermudez growing larger on the horizon from the port wing of the bridge of the IRS Solène Girard. Those plans had been disrupted by a formal summons, not from the Foreign Ministry, but from the Imperial Palace. Even long retired servants of the Roman people would not ignore such, however much it might disrupt some of their remaining twilight years. Bastien was widely regarded as one of the greatest diplomats of his generation in the world; and now he would have a chance to do the one achievement which by circumstance of the times had remained unchecked, the brokering of a peace between waring nations.

Bastien did hate being at sea however, and the IRS Solène Girard was not helping create new fond memories. The ship was too new, the voyage to the island of Bermudez having replace the expected trip to Napoli as the first segment of her working up. In places the paint was just hardly noticeably different from the majority of the ship, various fittings such as non-watertight door hinges were in constant need of adjustment everywhere. They had already been slowed by a wiring issue requiring one of the fancy electric drive motors to be taken offline for twelve hours. However, Bastien was again reminded of his unwavering respect for the Roman serviceman, be him a soldier, sailor, or now one of those men with a deathwish who flew airplanes. These men had only weeks prior been expecting to have a shortened shakedown cruise before joining the IRS Thibault D'Aramitz on anti-raider patrols. Bastien knew if peace could not be secured, the men of this ship and others would be thrown back into combat. The beaches of the small islands needed no more blood of man spilled upon them.



Hours later, Bastien was helped off the small motor launch and onto the dock of D'Anghiera Harbour. Across the wooden deck a small fishing ship with the smell to indicate it was perhaps as old as he was the motor launch's only companion. Offshore the Solène Girard sat at anchor, a few of the ships oar-powered boats being used to bring the other members of the delegation and some items of importance ashore. Bastien walked slowly to the end of the dock and stepped foot back on dry land, offering a silent prayer for his safe arrival on shore. Waiting to greet him was a well-dressed Wilnoan man, behind whom was a rather new motor-car for such a out-of-the-way location. The man spoke before Bastien could.

"Envoy Mancini, I presume?" The Wilnoan man spoke with the typical accent to the Modern Latin of those from the east.

"Yes, I am Bastien Mancini." Bastien replied jovially. "To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting today?"

"I am Karl Schlaggert." The man replied. "Senior Advisor to Minister Borowiecki."

"Mister Schlaggert, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." Bastien took Karl's outstretched hand and shook it enthusiastically. "I do wonder if I have made Minister Borowiecki's acquaintance before, the years have not been kind to fine details such as that."

Karl was diplomatically unphased by the diversion. "May I show you to the residence we have prepared for you?"

"That would be most lovely." Bastien replied. "And if there are any walking trails nearby, I would appreciate if you would point them out to me."

Karl escorted Bastian to the waiting car, assisted him with entering the rear passenger side, then took his own seat behind the driver. The car rattled of down the well-graveled road.

[TacCovert4]

January 12th,1914.  Aboard HAMS SC-1.

Commodore Abidi mused quietly as he sat on the quarterdeck.  At the request of the ship's surgeon he had ceased attempting to walk up and down the decks of the ship, though he still insisted upon taking at least short daily walks.  The Warmaster was not about to ride in a wheelchair in Bermudez, after all.  And despite the looks he had received from the field hospital on Grand Turk when he insisted upon sailing immediately, the ship's surgeon had kept his wounds well maintained, as well as a number of other wounded whose services might be needed in Bermudez.  Hale and hearty officers, after all, were needed on the front in the event the cease fire broke down.  If that happened, Captain Acalan had his orders and had proven to be a resourceful and cunning officer. 

"Intent on being the first to arrive, Commodore?" came a voice from behind him as he looked out over the sea.  The Warmaster chuckled softly, the effort now only causing a minor soreness along his ribs, most of the shrapnel damage having healed.  "My people do not have vast bureaucracies or massive fleets, but we do have fast ships and responsive chains of command.  I sent Five back to Tampico to pick up the usual functionaries for the trip here.  It is fitting that the Warmaster sails in the flagship."  Abidi winced slightly, the long explanation having taken something out of him.  "And I must ask, sir, what of me?"  "What of you indeed Major?"

Major Hadrian responds.  "Commodore, why did you bring me.  I am your prisoner.  I should be encamped with the other Roman prisoners."  "I brought you, Major, so you can give your accounting of the conduct of this war."  The Warmaster responds.  "And I consider you more a guest than a prisoner, after all, we have been shelled together" he smiles.  "You want me to tell your side of the war to my people?"  "No, Major.  I want you to tell your side.  The conduct of the Sultanate may stand on its own, no one will be interested in platitudes.  I bring you because you bring perspective, and maybe a perspective that everyone at the table will place equal weight upon."  "Certainly, Commodore, the Republic will not consider the word of a prisoner to be given without duress?"  "Which, Major" Abidi interrupts "is why you are no longer a prisoner. I give you your parole, if you will swear to personally not make war upon the Sultanate until this present state of war be concluded."  "I have not heard of parole given in nearly fifty years, sir.  I'm not certain that the Republic's bureaucrats would know what to do with it".  "It is simple, Major, simple.  If this conference be unsuccessful, then it is upon your honor.  You could remain in Bermudez and consider yourself 'interned', or you could remain my guest, or you could sail for home.  I trust that your word is good, if I did not, then why would I want you to tell your story."  "Well, then under those terms I accept your parole sir."

Commodore Abidi grasped the rail with his right hand and levered himself out of his chair.  "And none too soon, Major.  I told the Captain to pour on all steam, and he has not taken that request lightly."  Commodore Abidi points just off the bow, at the shape of land hoving into view as SC-One cuts through the water at better than twenty knots, her turbines thrumming under the pressure of boilers kept at near peak capacity for a day and a half.

Much to the surprise of the local governor, the Aztec ship steamed into harbor quite ahead of schedule.  Disgorging a small party of officers, one notably in a blue rather than khaki or black uniform, and a small honor guard of Seal Warriors, the ship departed as soon as it had performed quick maintenance on its boilers, leaving at quite a slower pace than it had arrived.  Fortunately, the wireless had already set things in motion, and it was less than a day before the Clausens graciously offered their residence for the Aztec 'delegation'.  Stiffly, and with the aid of a cane, Commodore Abidi walked from the Governor's mansion to his quarters, refusing the offered motorcar.  Behind him, the Seal Warriors marched without carbines or pistols, though their flyssas had been retained for honor guard purposes, two of them carrying a decorated wooden case about the length of a man. 

January 29th, Aboard the HAMS SC-5. 

Minister Asad desperately wished he could just hang over the rail and vomit.  But alas he could not.  A number of his Foreign Ministry staff already had, the trip aboard the fast scout cruiser having been a rapid one over seas that the captain called 'lively'.  "A most understated term" Asad thought as they had come out of the Azteca Gulf and past the Bahamas only to steam directly into the teeth of an Atlantic storm.  The captain had resolutely plowed on through the storm, he was under higher orders after all.  But the diplomatic staff had stopped looking out of the portholes, and Asad had stopped joining the Captain on the bridge after seeing towering waves crashing all the way back to the number two gun mount as the cruiser pitched and rolled through them.  "Two days" he thought.  Two more days of this miserable existence and he could get back on solid ground.  Back to the business of state, and to advising the Warmaster.  Because in one of the traditions that Asad wished would be abandoned, the warmaster would be principle in the negotiations, not the career diplomats. 

[The Rock Doctor]

1 February 1915

"Good morning, gentleman," Minister Borowiecki said, moments after a distant clock struck nine in the morning.  "I'd like to call this conference to order.  My name is Anton Borowiecki, Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Vilnius Union and your host and facilitator for this conference."

The room was rather small, with tables for about six or seven members of each delegation in a C-shape and a few extra chairs behind each table for additional junior staff.  Borowiecki, his aide Schlaggert, and three other Vilnians were located at the centre table, leaving the belligerent parties to face each other.  A junior aide sat at a small table outside the room.  Security was quite limited - two Union infantrymen with rifles and bayonets flanking the main entrance to the Governor's Mansion, and a single unarmed infantryman standing post outside each of the two entrances to this particular room.

"First, let me welcome you to Bermudez.  I do apologize for the relatively modest accommodations and facilities available to all for the conference, but the location was selected more on the basis of attempted equidistance to your capitals than for the size and glamour - or lack thereof - of the island.

"A bit of housekeeping before we dive into matters.  While we'll be meeting here, we've arranged for two rooms to be set aside for caucusing or staff work on the part of yourselves and your delegations.  The so-called Sugarcane Room, located down this hall and two doors further, is available to the Sultanate.  The Library, located up this secondary hall, is available to the Republic.  For the purpose of privacy, we've also allocated specific bathrooms for the use of each delegation.  I understand that my aides have shown your personnel where these facilities are.

"The kitchen staff will be setting out a simple luncheon of sandwiches, soup, and assorted vegetables and fruit beginning at eleven-thirty, buffet-fashion in the dining room.  Coffee and tea service will be maintained throughout the conference.

"Now, the conference itself.  The Caicos islands are clearly a serious matter to both the Republic and the Sultanate, as evidenced by the expenditure of blood and steel in the region over the past several months.  It is my hope, and that of King Sigismund VIII, that your governments can come to a peaceful conclusion to the conflict.  I am here to mediate as may be necessary, but will step back after the opening statements to let discussions play out unless or until I feel my intervention may be beneficial.  We have no limit on time; I am here for as long as may be necessary and you are welcome to enjoy our hospitality for the duration.

"With that, I will invite you to deliver your opening statements.   Thank you."

Borowiecki sat down.

[snip]

Seeing no attempt to speak from the Aztec delegation, Bastien rises from his seat at the middle of the Roman table.

"Thank you, Minister Borowiecki, for the opportunity to discuss this matter on neutral ground. Also, please allow me a moment to thank our civilian hosts as well, the use of their accommodations is most appreciated."

Bastien bent to grab a paper from the table but stopped halfway through the exercise. He returned upright before continuing.

"It is always bittersweet to be in the position we are in now. The lives of many have been used to fill the gap between the positions taken at the beginning of this conflict. Now that it has been realized that there is a path to peace, I do wish it stated that all of us in this delegation from the Imperial Roman Republic, representing the interests of his Majesty Emperor Trajan VIII, recognize that loss of life and regret that events were such that the sacrifices of those lives were deemed necessary.

With that said, it is the position of the Imperial Roman Republic that any binding agreement reached here be the foundation for a lasting peace, not merely a temporary halt to the hostilities. If such an agreement cannot be reached, it is to be stated that the Imperial Republic will clearly communicate the timeline for any resumption of hostilities. While we do not wish that hostilities resume, we recognize that absent an agreement resumption is a possibility.

We are here today to discuss the territory of the Southern Bahamas, alternatively known as the Caicos. Since these small islands have seen more blood expended over them than anywhere else in modern history, their importance to both sides is clear. Rome wishes to reach an agreement that addresses the concerns of both sides with regards to the status of the islands and how they affect the flow of commerce throughout the region, both in peace and in war.

While this delegation has several proposals to present on the subject, we feel it is in the best interest of the proceedings to allow the delegation from the Aztec Sultanate to provide more clarity on what they may or may not be willing to accept."

Bastien gestures openly to the Aztec table before moving to take his seat again.

[TacCovert4]

During Bastien's speech, the Aztec delegation, especially the diplomatic officials, maintained stoic silence, completely unmoved.  The two Seal Warriors who were both honor guard and assistant to the Warmaster stiffened slightly but otherwise remained briskly at parade rest.

But the Warmaster.  Well, the trite phrase is "If looks could kill".  And during the speech, the young but battle hardened Commodore's expression changed from stoic consideration to granite, his dark eyes to flint chips, never wavering from Bastien.  Indeed, if the look from the black clad officer could manifest physically, the Roman would be eating a broadside of his own 340mm naval rifles at this very moment. 

Once the Roman finally sat, Commodore Abidi, Warmaster for the Sultan, rose to his feet, stiffly and with more than a little obvious effort but not a complaint.  His left sleeve pinned to his jacket where it would otherwise be at attention had there been an arm present.  He cast his eyes across the room, turning and giving a polite bow to the Vilnius hosts, before settling himself upon Bastien directly, like a piece of field artillery at point blank range.

"It is said that warriors love peace because they know the costs.  This is not true.  Warriors love peace because they PAY the costs.  This Spring, the Imperial Roman Republic decided that it was 'fond' of the Caicos, islands held in trust to the Aztec People and sovereign Territory of the Sultanate.  Islands they call the Southern Bahamas because they already own the Bahamas but never bothered these islands until now.  Islands so important to them that they could not be bothered in a decade of colonization to make the effort of planting a flag. 

From the Spring until the beginning of Summer, the Imperial Roman Republic's diplomats treated, first bargaining, then demanding, and finally issuing an ultimatum that their will would be done or the Sultanate would be assailed by their forces.  These are not the actions of a nation that prides itself as the arbiter of what is proper amongst the nations, but the actions of a nation behaving in the manner that they assign to us because our traditions differ, our history is not well known to them. 

And true to their word, the bureaucrats, diplomats, and functionaries did send the power of Rome to take by force.  For the crime of not instantly obeying an order of the Republic the sovereign Sultanate was engaged in an unprovoked and dastardly war of conquest. 

I observed that Mister Bastien 'represents the interests' of his Emperor.  I do not do the same.  By law and decree, I speak the words of and for his Majesty, Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs, as has been bestowed upon me by my appointment to this station.   And I say that the deaths of those thousands of Roman Marines and Sailors in the waters and upon the lands of the Sultanate were worth more than paltry words spoken by functionaries.  Deemed Necessary?  How can one treat with such reckless disregard for life that entire legions who died with honor are treated thus?   A millenium ago, my forefathers were cutting the hearts out of prisoners and sacrificing them to the sun, and yet they showed more concern than the Romans did to their own men as they indiscriminately shelled them from capital ships in their avarice.

As to the remark about resumption of hostilities, I would advise the Romans that if they twice choose war, they should make sure their people are ready to bury two generations of young men.  Over fifty thousand Romans dead in a matter of a few months, and some of those months were without battle whatsoever.  It is a charitable estimate that Rome, with its vaunted superiority, lost well above ten thousand gallant and honorable men in a matter of days to take a kilometer of shell blasted sand that could hold no value to the Republic.  I need not speak of my own warriors, for it is abundantly clear that the Sultanate is more advocate for the Roman soldiery than its own representatives. 

We are here to discuss the terms by which this war might end.  And terms that might prevent future war.  Thus saith the Sultan, leave our lands in peace and yours will be left in peace.  Do that and there is no war.  No claim have I made upon Roman lands, so it falls solely to Rome to decide its legacy amongst its people and the world."

With that, Commodore Abidi nods to the Vilnius representatives and stiffly sits down.

[snip]

Bastien gives a gentle cough before responding.

"It is very clear that your passion, and those of your people, run to strong and deep roots. I cannot and will not claim to speak for the government of the time, but I do speak for the government now. As you say, the costs of this war have been high. I am not here to continue to justify the decisions that lead to that cost being declared acceptable, but to hopefully come to decisions that allow for the restoration of peace now and the continuation of peace in the future. As was once illustrated by some philosopher or another; war as an extension of diplomacy is merely to use the lives of those sent into battle to fill the gaps between the sides of an issue. That we are both here now underscores that we and the governments we represent can once again discuss terms at the ends of a pen, rather than at the points of swords. That many lives were lost to return us to this point is personally a regret of mine."

"To that end, I believe we can begin the discussion with the blood-soaked beaches that played genesis to this conflict. The Caicos."

A few of the other Romans at the table are subtly taken aback by Basitan's use of the preferred Aztec name.

"It was the stated objective and limited scope of this conflict to obtain Roman control over The Caicos. Given that we are here, I do not need to bother to obscure the reality that obtaining this control is, perhaps, beyond our capabilities. As such, in the interest of providing a starting point for discussion, Rome would wish to revisit the pre-conflict proposal to sell The Caicos to a neutral third party. Is there a rout to peace that passes along this path?"

[TacCovert4]

Commodore Abidi responds before Minister Asad can weave his own more artful words into a response.

"It is indeed regrettable.  I doubt your law or tradition would have a suitable recourse towards the 'former government' as you would call it, but Allah is great and his memory long."

Moving on he says,

"With consideration to Rome's position, I believe that two points lie in the path.  The first is that with such sacrifice to maintain our own oaths from Sultan to lowliest Private to defend our sovereign territory, it would be ill advised to then freely sell said territory to a party who might then be coerced or simply paid by Rome for the land.  The second is that this route has already been explored, and it was Rome that deemed it could simply take instead.  Just as spring has now crossed through the fall and into the winter, I think that winter has also most definitely passed upon this originally possible scenario.  If Rome had wished for a solution without force of arms, then they should not have taken the option to the latter.  The Caicos was, is, and will continue to be sovereign territory of the Sultanate."

[snip]

Bastien nods along with Abidi's reply, paying careful attention.

"If the past actions have ensured the outcome is a return to pre-war stances or a return to war, I don't see belaboring the point to be a productive use of our hosts time and hospitality."

The Roman delegation is able to remain mostly stoic as this line is delivered.

"It will perhaps not be the easiest item to properly justify to my superiors, but in this I am lucky. I am not young, and being escorted out the back door for making an unpopular deal rather than leaving alone through the front might perhaps make a better story for my grandchildren."

Bastien slightly smiles at his own humor.

"With that issue set aside, we do have elsewhere to discuss, that being the boarder between Novus Francia and the Sultanate. As we have maintained our word and not moved to attack any Aztec territory on the continent, the Imperial Republic is concerned with the advances made by the Aztec military in the northwestern extremes of the territory. While we do not find fault or wish to extract concession for the Aztec actions, it cannot be helped that this is viewed as a problem for a lasting peace between our two nations. It is believed by the Republic that future expansion by ether, or both, nations could cause diplomatic spark that may grow into another war. Providing a lasting resolution to the future possibility of conflict based on this possibility would be a objective I hope to achieve. As such, the delegation with me has taken the opportunity to prepare some maps regarding a mutual understanding of spheres of expansion across the continent. Before these are presented, would you and your delegation wish to have a recess in which to prepare your own proposals on the subject? If so, I would suggest we reconvene tomorrow after lunch to discuss the proposals at hand. Is this acceptable?

[The Rock Doctor]

One of the junior Union aides quietly penned a brief note as the Warmaster responded to the notion of selling the Caicos, and slid it to Schlaggert.

Schlaggert read it and slid to Minister Borowiecki as Bastien moved to the subject of continental interests.

Borowiecki scrawled a few words on the note, passed it back, and awaited the Warmaster's response to the Roman proposal.

[TacCovert4]

Minister Asad looks over to the Warmaster, and quietly says "I do have some maps, but I had not consulted his majesty on the topic of continental expansion or what our stance should be outside of we generally would like some good land and not the endless mountains and deserts"

Commodore Abidi merely nods before replying to Bastien.  "I would agree that if nothing less, a return to our pre-war state diplomatically would be more agreeable than a war that would likely never end.  On the topic of North Erica  and both of our expansions into its vast plains, I would hear your proposal.  I can wait till the morrow if that is your wish, but I see no need to prepare a separate proposal in advance, the Sultanate does not seek to punish the Republic or sow the seeds of a future war by unreasonable and ill advised demands."

The Warmaster motions to Bastien, beckoning him to give his presentation.

[snip]

Bastien motions to one of the other Roman diplomats at the table and is handed a larger rolled document at the conclusion of Abidi's comment. Someone magically makes a easel appear and Bastien unrolls a large map showing Novus Francia, the northeast corner of the Aztec homelands, and the Aztec region of Hildalgo. The map shows the Roman territories in red, the Aztec in a dark green, and has some additional patterning in these colors on some regions to the north of Novus Francia and Hildalgo.



"This would be a reasonable starting point for the discussion at hand." Bastian gestures to the map. "To ensure we are all of the same understanding of what is represented here, the solid-colored areas are the current territorial claims of both the Imperial Roman Republic, in red, and the Aztec Sultanate, in dark green. On the eastern edge we can see some Mayan and Willno holdings, included to ensure a proper frame of reference. To the north of both existing possessions, the areas filled in with the hatch pattern^[1] represent what would be the eventual boarder of expansion only where the territories would touch each other."

"We fell this gives both nations expansion room from the existing possessions while creating a shared expectation of what the eventual boarder will become so that any violence that could potentially result from a clash of acquisition is unable to find a foothold. What comments do you have on the proposal?"

[1] These equate to the dots on the map.

[TacCovert4]

Minister Asad recoils. "That is outrageous,  it gives "  Commodore Abidi motions him to be quiet,  and after a moment he gives a slight inclination of his head and sits back with a look of distaste.

The Warmaster looks at Bastien.  "Think you for your proposal.   I think this is enough to consider for today.  I believe that dinner has been prepared and I must see to my men", he says, motioning to the two seal warriors who had remained standing most of the day.

Bastien receives a handwritten note. 

Cigars and tequila will be on the verandah at 2100.  A"

[TacCovert4]

2100hrs, Bermudez,

Commodore Abidi sat in a chair on the verandah of the Governor's mansion, the only other person in evidence being Major Hadrian and an Seal color sergeant.  The Aztecs were in undress uniforms rather than the more formal affairs of the days meetings, collars undone and shell jackets exchanged for brown sweaters to combat the night's breeze off the Atlantic, the color sergeant still wearing his flyssa as the only evidence that one of the two most important figures on the island right now was present and needed guarding.  Major Hadrian sat in civilian clothes. 

Abidi opens a decanter of clear liquid and pours two glasses before looking at the Major.  "Tequila?  From Tenochtitlan province, my family's own distillery"  "Certainly Commodore" is the reply and Abidi pours two more glasses.  "For our other guest if he decides to come, I have faith that he will" the Commodore says, and the color sergeant opens a box of fine Azteca Cigars, while the commodore pulls out a pipe and stuffs it with loose tobacco.