Confederate Freedom and Gallipoli-China

[Zimmerwald]

OOC: I thought it best to make a second thread for this so as not to clutter up your primary thread with story.  "Notes" threads  and "Conference" threads should not be mixed.

IC: Before he left for the USSCF, Viktor had thought it prudent to call a meeting of the Party Executive Committee.  By now, this body had expanded from the four members who had begun the revolution.  Zyanya was included, as was Salah, in addition to Lin, Aram, Feng, and Viktor himself.  These six met, when they had to, in a small office on the Workers' Council wing of the National Parliament Hall.  It was on the fifth floor, and the old building had no elevators, so the six often arrived cranky from the walkup.  This situation was exascerbated by the fact that the meeting had been called for eleven o'clock at night.

Feng was the last to arrive, and found the other five waiting for him.  Most were fidgiting, and only Aram had maintained his composure.

"Viktor," he intoned in a cold voice primed by too much caffene and not a little liquor, "why did you have to call this meeting now?"

"Because, my dear Comrade Hu," said Viktor icily, "the greatest secrecy must be observed.  Apparantly being in the public eye has made you indiscreet."  Feng scowled.  "Now, as you know, I have exchanged two notes with the Herald of Confederate Freedom, a mister Collier.  I have taken it upon my unofficial personage to represent our Party, and soon our nation, to these United Socialist States.  What I want to know is--"

"Yes, we can manage without you!" said Lin and Feng simultaneously.  Aram and Zyanya shared a chuckle.  Young people.

"That's not what I meant," muttered Viktor.  "I just want to be kept informed.  I want to have updates of anything the Parliament proposes, and I want to know when the Revolution is successfully brought off.  The disadvantage of being unofficial is that your promises carry no weight.  I will be representing our party, not our government; I want to know when I may represent our government."

"You shall know," said Salah mildly.  "Why would we keep that information from you?"

"Just making sure.  Now, about my transport--"

"Way ahead of you, Comrade," said Zyanya.  "You shall be flying on a Xyraeli airline to Talstadt, where you shall make the border crossing that mister Collier mentions in this second note."

"Is everything settled then?"

"Yes," said Aram.  "Motion to adjourn."  It was quickly seconded by Lin, and the Committee went their seperate ways for the night.

Viktor still had some packing to do, but first decided to send this final note.

To: Matthias Collier etc.
From: Viktor Debs

Regarding crossing your nation's border; I shall be flying on Xyraeli Airways, and shall make the crossing at approximately 1100 N, 690 W.  Please have your arrangements ready. 

I give you my regards and remain,
Viktor Debs

With the note sent, he threw the last few items into his trunk, packed his laptop, and turned out the light.  He'd be flying tomorrow.

OOC2: there's really no point detailing the flight, etc, so just pick this up at the border.

[Herald_Collier]

The transfer point at the Confederate border more than lived up to Collier's specifications. Viktor could see out the car window a bridge that spanned over a large, wide river, and a border outpost a ways down the road from the bridge, presumably where the border between Talstadt and Confederate Freedom was in place.
 A trio of black automobiles awaited on the other side of a conventional border control outpost, a small building not too far from the pair of guard towers that stood as part of the gateway on the road, upon which further progress was blocked by a metal bar, striped red and white, that seemed capable of being raised or lowered from a central axis point at which the bar was attached to a small control hut, the hut's windows shaded. Standing at the sides of the cars on the opposite end of the border-gate were four uniformed men for the first two cars, the third that stood between them only having two men standing at the automobile's sides. One was dressed in a more uniform version of a valet's attire, while the other, dressed in a dark blue, almost uniform-tailored two-piece suit that showed partially through a dark black winter overcoat, stood with his full attention on the approaching automobiles, the slightly short, fair-skinned man approaching Viktor with a smile upon seeing the diplomat emerge from the car that had carried him from the Talstadt airport to this point.

"Hello there, and good morning," the man said, approaching Viktor with a smile and raising hand--presumably for a handshake--as the few inches of snow that had fallen in this low-highland area of the Confederate territory crunched softly beneath the man's feet, "Viktor Debs, I presume? I am Johannes Kroenher, Ambassador of the Confederate Democratic Socialist Parliament. I trust you had a pleasant trip thus far?"

[Zimmerwald]

Viktor had been pleased to find the motorcade already waiting for him when his car pulled up to the border.  Proper socialist efficiency, that, he thought to himself as he got out of the car and walked over to his counterpart from Confederate Freedom.  After shaking his hand briskly, he paused and said

"You presume correctly, Mr. Kroenher.  I am Viktor Debs.  And yes, my trip has been splendid, and I hope it will only get better.  This is a fine facility, but let us not linger here.  We'd best be going."

He waited to be invited inside one of the cars; the uniformed men were obviously waiting to leave.

[Herald_Collier]

Kroenher nodded with a smile, walking with Viktor to his automobile. Soon enough, the three-car motorcade was on its way to the train station, the car holding Viktor and Kroenher in between the two cars holding their escort.

"One of the few things the corrupt Republic left behind," Kroenher said, nodding to the secure border outpost and the two cars with their escort, "A well-funded security and defense force, but that's besides the point. First of all, let me apologize on behalf of the Herald; it was his desire to greet you at our border personally, but affairs of state have been preoccupying a majority of his attention as of late. He will be meeting you at the train station in Einheit, however; he is most eager to meet you, I must say; its the most excited I've seen the Herald since the old days, such as the evening where he made the Party's first attempt at the Social Revolution."

[Zimmerwald]

Viktor settled into the upholstery of the car, making himself comfortable.

"I understand perfectly; my Party comrades tell me governing is most time-consuming.  I've never gone in for it myself; I prefer negotiation.  I look forward to meeting your Herald.  He's something of a model for us, along with the Fugazis and the Xyraelites.  How long will it take to get to Einheit?  I know how far away it is, but with ice and other conditions, I'm afraid I can't make an accurate estimation."  He chuckled quietly.

[Herald_Collier]

Kroenher nodded with a smile, "It won't take long; the Herald has done his utmost to advance the capabilities of public transportation--including our railway systems--beyond much of what was originally available.  And as it's all paid for by the State, not one common man has to pay a cent to get on board; only a phone call or visit at the ticket office, with reservations being made for those who desire more private quarters for long-term travel. I would guess that it will take, oh, about two hours, maybe three, ice and weather conditions pending."

Kroenher gave Viktor a friendly pat on the shoulder, "So, you say that the Herald has become something of a model for your revolution, and a few others? He'll be happy--and surprised--to hear that. I suppose he hasn't had the time to take notice and realize just how far his influence and public image have spread. Well, either way, know that the Herald also looks forward to your meeting with him. He has been eager to partake in international diplomacy, particularly with other Socialist groups."

[Zimmerwald]

"You're lucky.  The 'liberals' in the Parliament are blocking our initiatives just as much as we're blocking their's.  Don't tell anyone I told you that; we're supposed to be presenting a face of anti-fascist harmony."  He chuckled again.  "I guess he will be pleased to hear it, though I think you misunderstood me.  Our revolution, I fear, come rather late.  I meant that the Xyraelite and Fugazi models, as well as yours, influenced us, though of course that's no small achievement."

[Herald_Collier]

Kroenher nodded, understanding his misinterpretation quickly, "So I see! Well, either way, the Herald will be happy to speak with you personally. Ah, here's the train station!"
Kroenher pointed to the station, a small series of train cars linked behind a surprisingly up-to-date bullet-train engine, ready to depart. The sudden entrance of the motorcade into the outer limits of a small city had gone barely noticed by the Confederate diplomat, though the city was far from downcast--despite the snowy winter-weather. Obviously the people of the Confederacy had become all too used to this kind of winter over a span of centuries, and appeared no less prosperous in response to it. Some curious looks came from the civilian passers by as the motorcade came to a stop at the street entrance outside the station, the uniformed men departing from one car to escort the two diplomats past the ticket offices and towards the small, private train. Apparently, the State police had been serving as the escort, as the uniforms on the public security officers matched those of the escort for both the motorcade as well as those present throughout the station to maintain security for the diplomats' transfer from car to train. The guards present on the train, however, wore uniforms of a dark, bluish-gray color, clearly with military insignias and patches sewn in place on the outer arms and collars. A meeting car was where Viktor and Kroenher boarded the train, which began to move along the tracks only minutes after the two diplomats had taken their seats at a large conference table.

"So, while we wait, Mister Debs, did you want anything to eat? Drink?" the Confederate diplomat asked as a waiter came over to the table, dressed in uniform similar to that of the military personnel spread throughout the train, "No need to neglect hospitality while you show me any paperwork involved with the meeting between yourself and the Herald; the train ride will take about two hours, after all." While waiting for a response, Kroenher ordered a brandy and ice for himself from the waiter.

[Zimmerwald]

"I'll take Cinzano if you have it," said Viktor to the waiter.  He normally didn't drink, but there was far too much military presence here for his liking.  He never could abide the military, and he needed to relax before meeting a head of state.  "I'd be glad to show you the document my party's Executive Committee has drawn up.  You must understand, this is not a formal offer, as I am not yet a diplomat, but is merely a proposal for your government to take into consideration."

He extracted a paper from his briefcase, and pushed it across to the table to Kroenher.  "Ah, thank you," he said to the waiter, who had come over with the drink.  "As you can see, it's very comprehensive, and is in fact meant to be the basis for a supra-national organization, and not just a mere bilateral alliance.  We hope to involve the Uichi Ryans and the Xyraelites as well, but your nation is the first we've shown it to."  He took a sip of his drink.  "What do you think?  Perhaps more importantly, what do you think the Herald will think?"

OOC: I'll post the actual text when Collier shows up.

[Herald_Collier]

OOC: That's perfectly fine. No need to take up space on the thread with unecessary posting of documents.

IC: Kroenher nodded in response to Viktor's words as he took up the document and began perusing it, thanking the waiter as his own drink came in a short glass. He hummed and nodded as he took a sip of the brandy, liking his lips once as he set the glass back down.

"All too understandable, mister Debs. Remember, the Herald, myself and several other members of the Parliament and Ministries were once just members of the Confederate Democratic Socialists' Party, back in the day."

After a couple more sips of his drink taken over a matter of quiet minutes, Kroenher looked up to Viktor from the document, nodding with a smile, "I can see nothing wrong or objectionable with this charter, mister Debs," he turned a few pages, scanning the contents of the document once more before returning his gaze to Viktor after another sip of his drink, "and I am certain the Herald will agree with me;  he may be the Head of State and High Chancellor of the Parliament, but he's an immensly open-minded and understanding individual. There's very little that he is not willing to discuss, and very few negotiations or compromises that he'd immediately reject. At the very least, I would go so far as to say this much; the Herald will be most flattered that our nation is the first you wish to present this charter to."

Kroenher nodded with a confident smile to Viktor as he took another sip of his drink, the only two military personnel on security detail in the conference car standing at attention, indifferently at opposite ends of the car's interior.

[Zimmerwald]

"Thank you for telling me.  It saves so much guesswork and time if one knows how somebody's going to react to a proposal."  Viktor raised his glass to his lips and took another sip.  He reached back across the table to retrieve the document Kroenher had placed back on the table.  "Are we slowing down?"

[Herald_Collier]

Kroenher looked out the window, smiling with a nod, "Yes, we are; the capital of Einheit is just ahead, see?"

Viktor could indeed see the metropolis on the horizon; the snow had decreased slightly, but was still present on the ground as the train exited the mountain tracks and tunnels, showing a rather large, prosperous-looking metropolis, a handful of skyscrapers here and there, but no building so immediately visible as the large, white-domed building in the city center; that building had to be at least forty stories high, dome included.

"The Herald and his entourage should be waiting at the train station. I think I should warn you ahead of time; the Herald can rarely get across the street without the populace crowding around him, and that's not including the reporters, news channels, and so on. I'm afraid that, at least as far as our country is concerned, your visit will be national news, though the Herald has told me to assure you that news of your arrival here will not go beyond our borders, unless you ask otherwise..."

And indeed, there was quite a crowd as the train finally pulled into the outskirts of the city; several pedestrians and cars were already crowded about the train station, several others already heading in the station's direction. It seemed that the Confederacy's Democractic Socialist Party was not the only group in the nation that held a great deal of faith and admiration in the Herald.

[Zimmerwald]

"I don't mind the crowds in the least, Mr. Kroenher.  And I'll thank you to keep this news strictly national, at least for the time being."  As he spoke, more people crowded around the station entrance; a large motorcade seven blocks away was having a hard time negotiating the crowded streets.  "I assume that's the Herald?"

[Herald_Collier]

Kroenher smiled as he and Viktor watched the motorcade approaching the station at a relatively slow, though timely pace. Even as the motorcade made its way towards the station, the crowd continued to swell, hundreds of bystanders cheering and waving to a silver-colored, four-door limo, though it wasn't the type with a stretched-out passenger compartment.

"Yes, that would be the Herald. You'll finally be able to meet the man who saved our nation from capitalist abuse and oppression, and brought equality to all citizens with the Social Revolution." Viktor could see clearly the smile on Kroenher's face; clearly the Confederate diplomat was an old friend of Collier's, probably a Party member as well.

The motorcade finally managed to pull up to a stop in front of the station, several uniformed public security officers exiting the other cars and ushering the crowds to the sides, making way for the Herald as numerous cameras--some for pictures, others for live news broadcasts--zeroed in their sights on the man stepping out of the silver car. A thin man, a little over six feet in height with fair skin and dirty blond hair that was styled in a comb-over to the left, brushing down the thin blond moustache and finger-width stripe of a goatee. As he stepped from the car, dressed in what appeared to be a midnight blue uniform of the formal-dress variety, complete with a black leather belt and shoulder-strap with his pands tucked into a pair of calf-high jackboots, the crowd burst out into an almost deafening cheer. Placing a flat-topped, military-tailored cap on his head, he smiled, adjusting a pair of oval-lens, wireframe glasses. One could clearly make out the Confederate Democratic Socialist's emblem, the deep blue Bolshevik's cross, on the armband circling his left bicep. The crowd's cheering only increased in volume as he returned the many waves spectators were flailing their arms to achieve, striding up the stairs to the entrance of the station while flanked by a few other men; one a stout and robust black-haired individual who's uniform was quite similar to those of the public security officers; one a lanky individual in a three piece suit; the last an older man, probably nearing sixty, with a bushy moustache in a dark bluish-gray uniform befitting a general.

As the Herald strode up to Viktor, the Gallipoli-China diplomat could see that, for a man of thirty-five, the Herald looked to be in good health and perhaps even a few years younger than his birth certificate would show. He walked up to Viktor with a pleasant smile, reaching out a hand for a good-hearted handshake. As he spoke, the Herald's voice was obviously one that befitted the history of its owner; a pleasant baritone that could probably speak in far more rousing and intense tones and volumes, when necessary.

"Viktor Debs, I presume?  I'm Matthias Collier, High Chancellor and Herald of the Party. Let me thank you for coming all this way to see me; I must admit, it's a pleasure to finally speak with you in person."

[Zimmerwald]

Viktor shook Matthias' hand, trying to do so as vigorously as Matthias was shaking his.  It was a difficult task; the Herald was obviously a powerful man, as well as a powerful personage.  "And it is an honor to finally meet you, High Chancellor Collier.  Mr. Kroenher will tell you I've been anticipating this meeting for some time.  An historic event this truly is; revolutionaries of two nations half a world apart, on a scene of the triumph of the international working class."  The photographers apparantly thought this was a great photo op, as Viktor, and presumable Matthias, were dazzled by the flashes of the cameras, and by the reflections of the same on the still-present snow.

Viktor, upon the pretext of continuing the handshake, whispered "Are we going to have to answer questions?  Will people call for a speech?"