| Setting the Stage (International); When my ramblings might annoy others, they'll probably end up here so I can enjoy the resulting show. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 25 2016, 05:17 AM (49 Views) | |
| Akatsuki | Jan 25 2016, 05:17 AM Post #1 |
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Captain Munefusa Shishido stood atop the conning tower and looked over his cruising vessel as it made its way out of Ar-Khabil’s impressive harbor. Massive cargo ships and tankers mixed with peasant fishing trawlers and private yachts, swarming the Eurybian Sea as they did every day. Roughly a sixth of the tanker traffic was Akatsukian, Captain Shishido was proud to note, and that fraction was growing as Akatsukian prospectors of yesteryear had finally begun to see returns on their investments in Sahrid oil fields. Two Akatsukian corporations had been born almost overnight when the Sahrids had chosen to embrace their foreign investors rather than dispossess them, with private, and eventually imperial, interest in Sahrid oil joining hand-in-hand with the grand strategists’ interest in the Alexandrian Canal, the point at which three continents, and almost three whole worlds, collided in glorious fashion. The Sahrid Sultanate’s rising power in world affairs only cemented the importance of this place, and the importance of defending Akatsukian interests and intentions here. It was a beautiful place, Captain Shishido thought for the thousandth time since his arrival, though it was a stark beauty that emphasized the brutality and sheer power of the natural world. These dry deserts were almost completely surrounded by the deep waters of the Eurybian, creating a contrast just begging for a proper poet to put to verse. The captain had tried his hand at it the previous evening, but even his ignorant tongue knew that his best was worthless in this instance. This particular beauty would simply have to stand for itself for a little while longer, while Shishido returned his attention to his duties in and around Ar-Khabil. There were certainly plenty of Akatsukian vessels whose presence in Sahrid territory was of more immediate benefit to the emperor. There were the tankers, first and foremost, who returned day after day to gorge themselves on the precious milk of industry and make their heavily-laden way out into the world, looking for buyers. Then there were the yachts under Akatsuki’s banner, whose owners were political and economic powerhouses that maintained the Dawn’s good relations with the most notable representative of Islam. Very occasionally, a small Akatsukian naval patrol made port here, taking advantage of the sultan’s hospitality in order to rest and resupply before or after an extraordinary tour of the Mysorean Ocean. Such a patrol had left harbor the previous day, as Captain Shishido’s vessel had arrived; the captain had thought it a fine prank to arrive entirely unnoticed by his countrymen, and had congratulated his crew for their diligence in this impromptu test of their skills. There was no hiding this morning, however, and that was as Captain Shishido had designed it. It went against the grain to cruise out into the blue in full view of everyone, and Shishido personally thought that there were plenty of better things that his vessel could have been doing instead, but his orders had been clear and, honestly, his ship deserved the attention. If it reminded the Akatsukians living abroad here that they were not forgotten, that would be excellent. If it prompted Valorian-obsessed powers to consider the possibility of Akatsukian ambitions in their neighborhoods, it would be even better. And if everyone in the region suddenly realized that Akatsuki’s interest in the area could be turned to their advantage, assuming they were willing to play along with the emperor, Captain Shishido would be especially pleased with the success of his mission. Not that he knew what the Imperial Ministry really wanted from his little sojourn, of course, but that had never stopped the captain from using his imagination in the past. “Hot this morning, Captain.” Shishido didn’t bother to turn to his executive officer, nor did his mind quite stop its wandering as he agreed absently, “Hot.” Glancing over at the receding shore, glittering with skyscrapers reflecting the murderous sun, he decided that he might as well put some effort into the conversation. “And harsh.” Somewhere nearby, the captain imagined, a Transnistrian military choir was dying of thirst in the desert. Considering the music still flowing in his head, though, even the Reds wouldn’t let something so trivial take away from the glory of Shishido’s command, scything through the water in its steady advance westward toward the Alexandrian Canal. From their perspective, somewhere on shore, SIS Kogane no Hanawa must have seemed like a ghost, barely visible even above the sparkling blue waters, except for the conning tower that marked her as one of Akatsuki’s latest and greatest attack submarines. Her presence was an anomaly; her purpose was unknown; and of course, with tensions still high in Valoria and the final Federative acquisition of Aegeania only a couple of months old, her timing could not have been more suspect. The emperor clearly had a message to send to Valoria and the world, and, in his own mind at least, Shishido thought that the Reds had gotten at least part of the message. They knew glory when they saw it. “It’s time, Captain.” “Time, indeed.” In the privacy of his own mind, the Transnistrians started dropping in the heat, but they never stopped singing until well after their bodies had started to bloat. |
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3:23 PM Jul 11