A Deal with the Devil

Roleplay Library
1

2000 hours, 10.7.17

As Starikov’s helicopter touched down on the foreign helipad, he reflected for a moment whether or not he was making the right decision.

This meeting may be necessary for Stratarin’s survival. And yet, it seemed to go against all Strataric pride and values, not to mention ideology. For now, at least, this would be humbling.

But Mikhail Starikov was not someone who based his decisions on short-term thinking. There was always a grand design at work in his mind, a masterpiece constantly being expanded with more details and illustrations. And temporary emotions were irrelevant to it.

As he disembarked from the helicopter, his coat swirling in the relative wind generated by the aircraft’s rotor blades, his unwavering resolve affirmed itself. A military officer strode forward and greeted Starikov in Codexian. “Good evening, sir,” he snapped, barely keeping his hostility towards the Strataric Premier in check, “and welcome to the city of Zeda. Please accompany me to your meeting.”

Wordlessly, Starikov nodded and followed.

2

In the same ancient room that housed thousands of Celannica’s diplomatic meetings in the past, only Reinhold Sepp, the Sentinel; and Hoshiko Mitsuko, the Overlord; along with a select few guards, were present for the upcoming meeting with the Strataric Premier. Despite the fact that they were meeting with the head of the state of a former SEPC nation responsible for assisting in the blockade of Celannica and the eventual devastating war with the SEPC, a thought that would normally outrage any and all Celans and Celanas alike, the two Imperial members managed to keep their emotions in check. It was partly due to their professionalism, and partly because it was something which a certain Minister failed to do so.

“So,” the Overlord started with a goblet filled with Crimson Rage in her hand.

“What results do you expect to come out of this… little meeting of ours?”

Shifting into a more comfortable position from his chair, the Sentinel flatly responded.

“The best that we can hope to gain from a former SEPC nation is to secure a non-aggression pact with them. That filthy Communist state have mocked us multiple times before and obviously is plotting our demise."

With a chuckle and a sneer, the Imperator soon spoke out his private thoughts rather enthusiastically.

“Honestly, with the situation developing between Stratarin and Setzna, we may potentially see two equally vile dogs tearing into each other’s throats. Once they begin to suffocate from their own blood, we can swoop in and finished off what they started with us not so long ago.”

Taking only a moment to enjoy her beverage, the Overlord soon responded.

“While that is quite a pleasant fantasy, you must clearly remember our unfortunate situation in Chianski and Adumara. It’s the very sole reason why we even agreed to this meeting.”

The Sentinel only grunted in disappointment as he retreated to his thoughts.

"Perhaps,"the Overlord smirked,“When the inevitable comes, those Strataric folks might just prove to be a powerful ally.”

Before continuing any further, two people entered the room: an officer and a Stratric.

“Speak of the devil, look who just arrived.”

3

Although Starikov had a natural intuitive knack, though it didn’t take much to sense the hostility directed towards him as he purposefully strode into the room. He noted two individuals: the Overlord he recognized from various news reports and Strataric intelligence files, while he presumed that the other was the Sentinel.

He took a flicker of a moment to contemplate how he was still alive, soon followed by the realization that he could’ve easily assassinated both the Overlord and the Sentinel if he had used more foresight. Discarding both of these thoughts as irrelevant for the time being, he addressed the Celana.

“Greetings, Overlord and Sentinel of Celannica.” This was stated calmly and smoothly, without so much as the barest hint of fear. “I am honored to meet you both in person. Not even our common foe Viktor Drugov ever dared to do so.” With a mannerly nod following this greeting, he politely stood before the pair.

4

“Ah, well isn’t it nice for the mighty Mikhail Starikov to join us. Please, take a seat. We have plenty of refreshments should you desire to snack on anything.”

The Overlord pointed to the empty seat at the other side of the table as she swirled her drink. The Sentinel only stared in silence as the Stratarian sat down in front of them while the guards were clearly tensed. With both occupied chairs (as well as all eyes) positioned directly to the lone seat, the Overlord simply stated one line.

“Shall we get this meeting started?”

5

With a leisurely yet humorless smile, Starikov obligingly replied, "Certainly. I’m sure that the two of you have kept informed of the recent tension that Setzna has brought upon the formerly strong Strataric-Setznan bond. Seeing recognition flit across their faces, he added, “And as I would do, you have no doubt wondered how you might turn this to your advantage. For the good of your people, of course.” He paused a moment, allowing his words to sink in, before he continued.

“Now, I can see in the… hospitality,” Starikov gestured to the obviously on-edge guards, “that you clearly don’t trust me. Which, though I don’t endorse this, is understandable. The Four Days War sullied the name of Stratarin in your eyes. All because of Viktor Drugov and his lackeys’ folly. It has driven a rift between our peoples, where none had nor should have existed. I am here to mend that rift.”

“I can fully imagine how a divided south-west Gondwana must seem almost too good to be true, to your nation. Two formerly strong enemies of yours, riven apart by foolish internal politics? It’s almost too good to be true. And yet…” Starikov paused, as though for effect, “it could be even better.”

“I make no claim that our nation’s ideologies are very similar. While the Empire of Celannica is fascist, the Militarized Communist State of Stratarin lives up to its title. However, there are certain… similarities. Both our nations believe in the power of the state over all. Both our nations aspire to military power. Both our nations hold true the simple fact that freedom will be abused to disastrous outcomes without complete control over the people. And finally, we have a common enemy: the Republic of Setzna.”

Starikov rose from his seat as the ancient Strataric god Moreukrotiel rose from the waves, and placed his hands on the table. “Allow me to be clear, I do not offer you a complete alliance. Otherwise, Stratarin would be dragged into every dispute the Fire Pact involves itself in. And I will not lead a nation into the arms of another international assembly. However, certain… agreements can be reached. A nonaggression pact. Trade agreements. Joint military exercises. An exchange of consulates. And more, or less, could be negotiated.”

“Overlord and Sentinel, I make no obeisant entreaty today, from a weakened, haggard state searching desperately for allies. Rather, it is from a standpoint of pride and power that I advise you to accept my offer. And then, together, we shall make Stratarin and Celannica that much stronger.”

6

After the magnificent speech, it would have seem that the Stratarin had earned the approval of the Celan and Celana as, via eye contact, they ordered their Guards to become more . . . professional as they would have put it. Taking over for the Overlord as she busied herself with her drink, the Sentinel finally spoked up for the first time since the Stratarin arrival.

“If you truely desire for both of our nations to prosper together, than perhaps your next actions might just be as loud as your bold declarations.”

Further straighting himself up and looking straight dead into the Stratarin pair of eyes, he began to discuss what they truely desired from Stratarin.

“In addition to the agreements that you so graciously offered to better our diplomatic relations, perhaps we could be able to negotiate a defensive Militaty Pact in order to protect eachother. What say you?”

7

Starikov met his gaze coolly. “I will not come to your aid every time war is declared by you or upon you. That would essentially force Stratarin into the Fire Pact Alliance, without any economic benefits. However, should any Celannican territories ever be actively invaded, I will agree to help protect you then. In turn, I would expect the same from you should Stratarin be attacked.”

8

Although the Overlord and Sentinel visibly cringed at the word, ‘Celannican’, they both collectively grinned as they had just achieved their ultimate goal. Without a moment of hesitation, the Sentinel immediately replied.

“We shall agree to this. Now then, is there anything else that you wish to discuss?”

9

Starikov, too, had a moment of quiet triumph. He had convinced the Celan and Celana to agree to an alliance with one of their most hated enemies. This, in turn, greatly strengthened Stratarin’s weakening hold over Gondwana, which was something it desperately needed.

“Nothing more comes to mind. Overlord, Sentinel,” he nodded politely to both of them, noting their slightly unprofessional grins, “I’m sure we all have matters of state to attend to.”

10

As quickly as the grins came, they quickly died down at a reminder of a certin trial. As a result, the Overlord posed one final question.

“Actually, we do have a rather important matter to attend to. You see, we’re going to soon place up a trial for two notable individuals involved in the unfortunate Four Days’ War. We were wondering if your nation would like to attend this trial?”

11

Starikov enigmatically raised an eyebrow. “Which individuals?”

12

“General Zetta and the ex-Minister of Defence, Dorofei Torsten.”

13

Starikov allowed himself a slight smile. “Of course. I’d be honored to send a representative.” His watch made a small beep, and Starikov glanced down at it. “No rest for the weary, I’m afraid. This meeting has been more profitable than I had imagined.” He extended his hand to the Sentinel, who was the closest of the two Celans to Starikov.

14

Slightly confused at the offering of a hand at first, the Sentinel soon realized that it was a handshake. After shaking the Stratarian hand (with a little bit too much strength), the Sentinel and Overlord bid him a farewell as they went their seperate ways. The Celan Guard would, once again, escort the Stratarian back to his helicopter.

15

After bidding the pair farewell and politely nodding to the Overlord, Starikov was escorted back to his helicopter. The pilot, while obviously a bit shaken at the constant thought of execution in this formerly hostile land, quickly prepped for takeoff, and it elevated back into the night sky. As the Imperial Palace slowly faded from his view, Starikov contemplated how Urth might very well would tremble in fear at the might of Celannica and Stratarin combined.