17.12.2019 Thoughts and manuscripts
Ultimately, I think this new direction in foreign policy will save the Republic. The cavalry isn’t coming for us, whatever the Federation says its doing in Clysperis is a practice run. All those little tricks they learn while out fighting the Clysperi Confederation will inevitably be used against us. The last thing I want is a swift defeat of the Armed Republic at the hands of Junko. Outnumbered, outgunned and out-finessed, we have to push aggressively for even the slightest advantage; in war and politics.
Objectively, the Fleuroix is the ideal place to start. While Junko pursues economic partners in MidAranye, I somehow doubt they’re in any hurry to win over a staunch democracy in Albion. We’ve lost time by pretending to exist in a bubble with the Federation, the zealots have spread their wings. The time to act is now.
M.S.
“Madam Musashi. We’ve passed over Quinntopia Bay.” Nodding back into consciousness, she answered without moving. “Thank you.” Work was exhausting. Press conferences, heated board meetings and towering stacks of paperwork; the only time she could afford to sleep well is when she couldn’t afford to sleep poorly.
Dark circles and bloodshot eyes, battlefield wounds of the white collar worker. While she half-hoped for enough sympathy from the Fleuroix for them to ignore it like her colleagues, she decided against it and begrudgingly put off working the day before.
Elsewhere on the plane, the Head of Finance and Head of Domestic Economic Development furiously shuffled notes back and forth. Akira Maeda and Ichiro Nakashima respectively; among the Republic’s best assets going into diplomacy.
As the hours passed, the plane began its descent over Cœur. Green fields and towering clouds washed over with sunlight; peaceful. With a landing impending, Premier Musashi collected their gift to the Fleuroix. A stylized (and harmless.) rendition of the axe on the Fleuroix flag, wrapped in a silk banner in their colors. Handmade and stamped by a small workshop far away from the Himeyan cities.
The plane soon found solid ground and began rumbling to a halt along the runway in front of the Fleuroix. A final jerk of momentum as the plane stopped was the Premier’s signal to rush to the door, first to greet their hosts with a bow and their gift.
