The Toehold Foreign Affairs Office

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1

Unfortunately, this is the right address.

It used to be some tinpot dictator’s summer villa - until several thousand very angry and very hungry mine workers decided to invest in real estate. The bullet pocked facade and giant craters in the yard/kill zone attest to how how well that particular deal went for both sides. Now that there are no more hundred year old trees to add to the relatively genial air, a little bit more concrete, some razor wire, and probably enough explosives in various calibers and tonnage to turn an armored limo into a pile of tuna cans can be added, and suddenly it becomes the perfect place from which these newly victorious revolutionaries can welcome its neighbors with geniality.

The soldiers stationed in and around the building look extremely competent, even if their equipment’s approximately fifty years out of date. Inside, the place looks to be better set to rights, with several of the wood floors already sanded down. New carpeting and drywall should be coming in any time.

The Foreign Affairs Minister, Clarissa Knight, was more or less chosen because she seems the most “normal” of the hardline revolutionaries than her extremely clothing-optional compatriots. Her suits are foreign and of the latest fashion, her attitude is cheerfully professional, and she hides her battle rattle underneath her extremely large desk.

The Minister is ready to see you now.

2

The Cori Celestian diplomat looked up at the imposing estate. He had had a heck of a time getting just this close, and felt that if he had to show one more form of identification, he might forget his assignment altogether. Oh well… he thought, and trudged slowly up the steps to the front door, swinging his briefcase and looking nervously at the guards. What does Azrael see in such a country that I have to be shipped here?

In truth, Cori Celesti’s benevolent extra-dimensional dictator believed that there was opportunity in Toehold. His Nation’s suffering economy needed outside stimulation, and he hoped that certain imports would be vital to this newly formed State.

The diplomat, whose name was Wallace Macdougal, jumped as the door-guard thrust his slightly rusting weapon before him as a motion to stop moving. What now…? Thought Wallace, setting his heavy briefcase down and waiting for further instruction.

3

“Ms. Knight?” her personal aide always looked a bit worried, but somehow the young pup managed to put a few thousand words of care and concern into those two words. He began tidying the already immaculate office, waiting for her to bounce ideas and cares off of him.
“What do you think of our friend?” She was looking rather intently at the latest camera angle of the career diplomat on her computer screen, with other windows open indicating everything Toehold Foreign Affairs knew about the gentleman Wallace Macdougal (not much) and his current biometrics (heart rate and blood pressure slightly elevated, diaphoretic).

The aide looks at the video, and frowns a bit. “Not really my type. WAY too young.”

“Agreed. Not about your dating habits, but that they sent a lackey here. At least we’ll be able to normalize relations around here with somebody.” Ever since they won their independence from Tasargeria, and that country’s collapse, most foreign dignitaries attempted to pretend like the country was not there - after all, during the revolution they were completely upfront about their use of irregular tactics to achieve goals, so when their ‘Empress’ was dethroned by religious and political pressures, everybody just assumed that Toehold was responsible. All she knew was that her office had nothing to do with it…and that nobody believed her.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road.” She closed down the computer, allowed her aide to fuss over her nicest business suit, and moved down to the foyer to await their first guest.

4

The diplomat tried to breathe regularly to calm his nerves. You never know what these rebel statesmen are capable of… The guard paused as if waiting for a signal, then lowered his weapon and stepped aside, motioning for Wally to enter.

Wally pushed the door open slowly, then took a deep breath, fixed his posture, and stepped more confidently through the door than he felt like.

His next thoughts were of surprise. Oh… Its a woman!
They didn’t tell me that before…

He shook himself. This is NOT the time!

“Most Cordial greetings, Minister. I come representing the Devine Sovereign Democracy of Cori Celesti.”

Ms. Knight waved her hand “Yes, yes. I know. Continue.”

“Well you see, Ma’am, we believe that it would be in both of our nations’ best interests if my nation was to set up an embassy here, in The Confederacy of Toehold.” The diplomat walked over to the lobby desk and set down his briefcase, proffering his hand to the woman.
“It would be of great benefit in terms of commerce, tourism and indeed relations between our two countries if this could come to pass,” Wally continued, dropping his hand. She had made no move to accept the handshake.

He activated the fingerprint scanners on his briefcase, opening it and retrieving the documents required for such an operation.
“Here.” Her aide took the papers.
“You may want to review those, if this proposal holds any interest to your nation. With all due respect, I would be honored to oversee such a Great diplomatic accomplishment between two powerful governments.”

5

She flashes another quick smile. “We will, of course, be happy to assist you in setting up shop here. There are several locations that we have already earmarked as the best locations for an Embassy, and we have a map of such, here.” She hands over the paperwork. “Of course, you may decide to place your Embassy wherever you see fit - if somebody decides to set up shop next to a pig farm, then that’s their prerogative.”

She looks slightly uncomfortable at the next little bit. “I do have to, however, make absolutely certain that you, and all who work at your Embassy are aware of the eccentricities of our current system. You see, compared to anywhere else with regular law enforcement, we have very few actual laws.”

Seeing that he did not understand, she continued. “We do not follow the tradition of English law, and do not operate on a system of precedents. This means that all cases that go to court must first be proven that the accuser has been wronged. If the accuser is unavailable, then their Kyriarch may press charges for them. If neither are available, then in some cases, the State will step in. What this means,” She says, “is that in effect, you can build a pogo stick and assault rifle factory next to the nearest elementary school, and as long as nobody can prove that those under their care have been harmed, you can do whatever you please. You will also note this includes most everything that has been considered contraband in surrounding countries - from hard drugs to fissionable material.”

She gets an extremely hard look. “And speaking of that last part. One thing we will not tolerate is any device used for the wholesale slaughter of civilian populations, including that incidental to completion of military goals. This region, before our war or independence, was home to 250 million people, including women and children. By the time we were free, that number had dropped to six million, and those primarily combatants. We Will. Not. Allow. That. Again. Not here, not anywhere.”

She leans back, and the intense look leaves her face, replaced by a wry grin. “Now, that being said, there are several great reasons to set up shop here. You want to hear them, or have you been scared off yet?”