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| Ministering to the Interior; or: What is this thing you call "negotiation"? | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 15 2015, 01:32 AM (70 Views) | |
| Mastropa | Aug 15 2015, 01:32 AM Post #1 |
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Zinovios Mesolongias, Epistatis
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The first thing that any official working in the Office of International Political Outreach learned was that Noverra was made up a confusing, contradictory, and always amusing mix of governments and leaders, from autocrats to plutocrats to democrats, every one of whom had a slightly different basis for their rise to power, and unique context with which to flavor the trappings of their office. The anax had his part to play, as did the Ahwazi sultan, the Zaliviyan tsar, the Izalithian empress, and the Gileadan president. Every nation on the map could claim a unique history and tradition, all of which meshed together, sometimes in very surprising ways, to form the recognized political landscape of Noverra. But while the Office of International Political Outreach focused the majority of its attention on this recognized mosaic, it could never fully ignore the existence of the world’s ‘secondary’ political scene—or at least, the fragments of that scene that affected the Achaian people. These were the various peoples throughout Noverra whose interests had never coincided with those of the recognized nations, whose various leaders and pseudo-states had never been accepted or even acknowledged by those around them, and who often preferred the ignorance or inattention of their mapped and interactive neighbors to the usual response they received when they attracted any notice: foreign invasion. The ‘unorganized’ regions of Noverra where they made their home had often been referred to as ‘wilderness,’ regardless of the number of people who lived in such places. ‘Wilderness,’ in this case, surrounded the Achaian people, as it had always done, to the glory of Makaria above all; a failure to organize meant a lack of security, ensuring that the Achaians could remove any near neighbors before they could amass any true strength and become a threat or a rival. Even now, there remained a buffer of empty space separating the Achaian borders from any populated settlements in the wilderness, and at least some of the tribes were still prepared to maintain such a gap regardless of the consequences, and over the objections of anyone who might desire otherwise. Beyond this hostile view, the Achaians had had no real interest in the wilderness that surrounded them. With their needs filled by the established parties, there was no economic need or desire to make contact with foreigners who had nothing to offer them. But the political climate of Noverra’s recognized nations, the mosaic to which at least the Peloponnese belonged, had changed into something quite nasty. There was no guarantee that some of those goods would continue flowing… and there was no guarantee also that the people unwilling to send those goods might not have other designs for the Achaian people that do not include trade. With that in mind, more allies would always be better, both for trade and for diplomacy… assuming that diplomacy was possible with those who had only the most rudimentary ‘states’ in Noverra. So far, Ambassador Patmos thought, things had gone much more smoothly than he had thought they would. His mission had begun with the most outlying Achaian tribes, specifically those that listened least to the Megaron’s entreaties and commands: Lakonia, Argolida, and Serres. The ambassador had been displeased to note a sense of increased hostility, or at least an increased hesitance to obey the commands of the Megaron, but outwardly at least the vasileis had proven amenable to the instructions Ambassador Patmos had relayed to them—though that could have been because those instructions amounted to further encouragement to keep a vigilant eye on their borders with the wilderness, something they found beneficial to do on their own anyway. From Serres, Patmos had moved westward, then southward, crossing and recrossing the numerous lakes that marked a shining, watery road from the Serrian border into the heart of Suran. The journey had so far taken three weeks by helicopter, as the ambassador and his impressively-armed escort landed at every settlement, both those already known and those freshly discovered in their flight, in order to determine whether or not the settlement answered for itself or had some other population center to act as an overlord, and if, in the latter case, the settlement was pleased with those accommodations. It was necessary to be absolutely certain of the loyalties of those they found on their way, Patmos had learned early, because it was no help to the Achaians if the ambassador negotiated with a lord claiming the loyalty of thousands, only to learn later that the lord in question was powerless in the face of opposition from those he claimed to rule. After so many weeks of meeting new people, jotting down new information, and generally redrawing the Megaron’s understanding of politics in south-central Suran, Ambassador Patmos had learned from experience how to quickly gain access the local society’s more influential members and obtain both the information and cooperation he wanted. With moderate concessions on Patmos’s part, mainly to do with increased trade to the interior and in some cases subsidies (though one warlord wanted more direct help with a neighbor that Patmos had no reason to deny, though he insisted on more immediate and concrete returns during that negotiation that the warlord was more than happy to provide), the ambassador received local agreement to host Achaian radio stations and relays that would provide early warnings of any unusual movements, new airports intended both to transport Achaian trade and to station Achaian reconnaissance aircraft, and new roads stretching to the Achaian homelands; these last, Patmos hoped, would eventually be extended southward as far as Galcidonia, as per his negotiations with Achilles Petros not so long ago. The roads, everyone involved had to admit, were a distant dream; the rest was a present necessity, and the ambassador sent regular messages back to the Achaian homelands through helicopter-borne messengers of his progress so that additional men and materials could be shipped where they were needed as soon as possible. The ambassador hoped for real progress before his return to the Peloponnese on these matters. At the same time that he was recording his successes, though, Patmos had his list of failures, too. Not every settlement was willing to negotiate with a stranger, and there were even some communities that rejected his offers—and sometimes refused to speak with him outright—because they recognized him as Achaian, and had no intention of dealing with a representative of those people who had slaughtered so many of their near neighbors. Some of these towns had been founded by those who had been forced from their homes by the Achaian expansion under Vyronas, after all. Patmos could not blame them for their opinions… but he could punish them for their choices. It would be good practice for the men, he was sure, and it would provide still more assurances to those who had chosen to treat with him that the Megaron was sincere in reaching out to the people of central Suran in a way it had never done before. It would almost certainly benefit at least some of the locals when their neighbors were greeted with Achaian arms; and it would demonstrate to those same people, tentative allies though they might have become, just what the Achaian military was capable of. Ambassador Patmos smiled to himself as his helicopter, surrounded by several military gunships, carried on its southwestward journey. Soon he would reach the end of this watery road, the natural barrier splitting this half of the continent in two; at that point, he was instructed to return directly to the Peloponnese, where he would wait for a month before repeating his journey to check up on the diplomatic progress being made between the Achaians and their hosts, to say nothing of the physical construction work undertaken in that time. By that time, the Megaron hoped to have a moderate influence in the area, and Patmos was sure that it would only get larger from there. ‘Better the Megaron than anyone else, at least,’ the ambassador thought to himself, turning his attention to the western horizon. ‘That would be a disaster.’ |
![]() MAKARIA to the Achaian People: Be as Many as the Stars | |
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7:51 AM Jul 11