A Cod War

[Catalyse]

The eastern sea has always been the most coveted by Rhylindia, principally the region of the isthmus in the central-eastern coast, controlling the passage to the interior sea. However it was in the western sea that rhylindians found most of their fisheries. and albeit the independence of the Five Provinces had somewhat reduced the size of Rhylindia's traditional fishing waters, it had not reduced the want and need for fish, nor had it decreased the zeal with which the Rhylindian Naval Defence Force, or RNDF as it was shortened to, defended national waters, and often international waters too.

The more common victim of the RNDF's accosting were fishers hailing from the Five Provinces, and while renewed conflict always seemed imminent, the provincial fishing boats seemed to be just the victims of threats, perhaps they were cautious enough to avoid escalation, or perhaps no RNDF captain wanted to be on the frontline of the next purge if the past repeated itself in regards to confrontation with the former rebellious provinces.

However today the innocent targets of RNDF's patrolling vessel, the Corix, named after an ancient, if not mythological, rhylindian sailor, whose story had nothing in common with the unexperienced crew of the ship that bore his name, would not be the rebellious provincials, but a fishing boat of the aalian non-conformists. Aalen didn't inspire much respect from Rhylindia, even though some volunteers from, then yet to be independent at the time, Aalen, served with distinction during the Hadrumat rebellion, though nothing too extraordinary to make the captain of the Corix fear making some gunplay out of the encounter with the aalian boat if need be.

It was somewhere in the western sea, somewhere. The Corix approached the aalian boat, it's captain shouted over the comms in an heavily accented [standard international language] "Halt! Haaaalt! You are in rhylindian national waters. Your fishing activities are in breach of international law.". The captain waited briefly for someone to shout back from the fishing boat, but all he saw over his binoculars were the sailors mucking about their ship.

"Your ship will be boarded, your cargo will be confiscated and all crewmembers will be transported to Rhylindia.". The Corvix slowly started moving closer to the aalian fishing boat, and still no response was given back. Just as the captain prepared the crew for the boarding, one of the sailors at the front's gun shouted "They have a gu----!" and immediately the sound of his machine gun interrupted his alarm. At its captain's command all of Corvix's guns shot at the small boat as if they were struggling for their life.

By the time the Corvix had finally finished cautiously approaching the fishing boat, after nervously shooting every single hole possibly through it, the boarding party found nothing but dead bodies, of sailor and fish alike. Eventually the captain understood what had led his gunman to shout in alarm, one of the aalian sailors, probably their captain, though the Corix's crew was skeptical if the aalian had any such concept, was holding a loudspeaker, though it was now impossible to check what actual malfunction of their ship's communications had happened, considering the whole boat was just some shelling away from being sunk, and that's all it took.

The captained hastened to think of a solution. A few thoughts run through his head "It was a spy ship all this time!" was one of them, but in the end the internal debate was won by the idea of just shelling the boat, sinking it and hopefully the whole issue with it. After all, it wasn't the first time sailors were lost at sea, nor the first time someone, or several someones, tried to avoid a firing squad.

[frattastan]

Vero wasn't expecting to see that. His first weeks of volunteering as a civil defence pilot had been rather uneventful.
Even a loss of contact wasn't an unusual occurrence for a trawler like the one he had been sent out for, or so he had been told, as many had old and malfunctioning equipment. But that boat had missed three routine radio communications with its group, and sea conditions were expected to worsen later that day. People at the Irmak meteorological center wanted to make sure that the crew could be warned of the danger, at the very least.

He pulled back the cyclic to slow down and get a better view, but he already knew there was little doubt.
He felt a knot in his stomach. "I am near the estimated position," he radioed. "There are bodies on the water."

At the same time, two hundred meters below the waves and without having seen that scene (not with their eyes, at least), the hydrophone operators of the Yakobin had already figured out the truth. Two hours earlier, while they they were patrolling that area of the Western Sea, they heard a sound that was different from the familiar diesels of the fishing boats, even if it closely followed one of them. It was the signature of a Rhylindian patrol boat. And that of an Aalian trawler that had gone silent immediately after.

A voice rose from the group of indistinct uniforms, still speaking quietly, as if the long-gone Rhylindians could hear it. A decisive "We should resurface."
A second continued: "We should. If there are no imminent dangers we can suspend the patrol and rise to shallow depth".
"And relay this information via VLF", a third one said.
A woman, dressed in the same uniform as the others except for a thin red pin on her lapel, concluded the brief discussion. "I concur".

[Catalyse]

The Rhylindian Naval Defence Force's command quickly punished the Corix's crew. Not because of the loss of life or the sinking of the aalian fishing boat, which didn't particularly concern them, but because those acts were the result of insubordination from the Corix's captain and its crew, as not only had the encounter never been reported, and hence no order to engage the aalian ship in combat had been given, but the captain had acted to ensure that the events were not found out by his superiors. In fact, it was only through the official communique made by the aalian government that the RNDF was made aware of what had happened at sea.

Punishment was swiftly and harshly enforced by a quickly assembled military tribunal. If one could complain about the lack of due process in civil court, in this case there wasn't even an attempt to put up the illusion of due process existing, as soon as the news reached the Corix's crewmen were rounded up, wherever they may have been, and promptly condemned.

The diplomatic office handled things a little differently. Diplomatic relations with Aalen weren't a priority to Rhylindia, and even before the recent incident the two countries couldn't be said to be on friendly grounds with each other, so the case was handed to some relatively unexperienced diplomat and their team to handle, even if instructions on how to proceed were made clear.

At the diplomatic office everyone wanted to sweep the issue under the rug, and wanted to make a somewhat appeasing statement, stating that the Corix had mistaken the aalian fishing thrawler as a spy ship from the Five Provinces that the RNDF had been receiving reports from, a fabricated story that they hoped would show sufficient good faith. But the matter changed when the military high command received a report about the diplomatic office's plan, and quickly acted on it.

The High Marshall, the chief commander of the Rhylindian armed forces, who also happened to be a close relative of the sovereign, acted with full royal consent. The new communique, as written under military supervision, was much less appeasing. No longer was there was any confusion from the Corix's crew part, and now Rhylindia accused Aalen of not only sending a spy ship to rhylindian waters, but also that the whole incident had been engineered by Aalen in order to create an international incident.

[frattastan]

Murat and Volya were sitting down before the Kriegsspiel board, trying to distract themselves from the looming crisis. "Strange way to do it", Murat thought. In a way, and he knew that was a wrongful way to think, he had hoped that they could turn back. There was a rationale to do that: after the Yakobin had risen to shallow depth to deliver its message, however briefly, its stealth was no longer assured. An overflying plane may have spotted it. Maybe at that very moment several Rhylindian destroyers were quietly stalking them, readying themselves to strike. But that could not be? They would have heard them.

"Your turn". Volya had moved one of her cavalry units. Either way, the decision had been taken and they were going to stay in the area. The threat of an attack was too high at that time. Nobody knew what the Rhylindian rulers where up to and where their warmongering folly would have brought them. Staying was the prudent thing to do. Staying armed.

"Have you been on a trip as long as this before?", he asked her. Their patrol was scheduled to last forty-five days - the heightened alert could've ended it sooner, perhaps, but also made it more dangerous. Relations with Rhylindia had never been good, but that was a step above what they could have expected.
"Many times. My blood parents were dedicated nomads and when I grew up our commune was always on the move. I haven't done it as much after I left them, but I like the sea because of that. It is limitless. I chose the Fleet because of that too". There was a brief pause. "You?". Nomads. After the Revolution the "right to nomadism" had been estabilished, but the communes that had embraced it as a lifestyle were few.
"No. I have always been more of a sedentary. But this place is at least dark as the mines I've seen when I was prospecting, up in the north."

"I remember playing a lot of board games to pass the time", and she gestured in direction of the board before them. "And three-sided football, of course, like everyone else."

Murat chuckled, as quietly as possible. "I loved that too. Once we're back ashore we should get a good game of three-sided football going".

While Volya's mind was wandering, curious about whether her enemies were equally fond of that great sport, a weary comrade approached them. Before he could speak, she looked at her wrist out of habit, but without actually paying much attention. "Midwatch".

---

The Commissar was chewing on a licorice root to avoid falling asleep. That day had been exhausting, and it was already late enough when the Council of People's Deputies had convened again to discuss the incident. His colleagues were speaking in turn, with Razin chairing the sitting.

"The response from Rhylindia hasn't been positive. They admitted they sunk our boat, but made up wild accusations about how it was a 'spy ship', how it was in their waters, and how we set up this incident on purpose. As if a small, peaceful country like ours would go pick up fights with them! This puts us in a difficult position. If we yield they will use this as a pretext to increase their patrols and deny us access to the fishing grounds of the Western Sea... and that's if they aren't looking for a chance to attack and destroy us altogether no matter how we react."

"Here is an idea. We received reports that the Rhylindian state apparatus is divided on the issue. The warplans are a machination of the High Command, but in their... in their ministry of foreign affairs there may be officials willing to work out a solution. We could send someone inconspicuous to Rhylindia, perhaps, to try and get in contact with the most reasonable among them."

They decided to go ahead with that plan. "It's worth trying. The fishing stocks are vital to us, and letting the Rhylindians stake a claim to them would starve many of us. But an armed confrontation would be a tragedy right now. Still, for this to work we need to put pressure on them to prevent them from seizing the moment to push harder against us, and kill more of our comrades."

Diplomacy and warfare, the two intertwined antagonists. Peace and war trying to outmaneuver each other. Very dialectical.

After the meeting ended, he had a brief chat with Razin, who confided him his worries - who were not very different from everyone else's.
"These aren't friendly men we are dealing with. That reply they issued... I can't believe they could make up something like that. It feels like we are all unwitting characters in a poorly written narrative".
For some reason he didn't quite grasp, this last remark hurt The Commissar, and for a brief moment made him feel empty and worthless, like a strawman with a precarious existence. But he had already forgotten it as he walked the way home. And he woke up the following morning and lived a remarkable life and met people and did things for many more years and never thought about it again.

[Catalyse]

After the high miltiary command forced through their own resolution the ministries protested at audiences with the sovereign and accused the High Marshall of undermining them. The words hurled did little to convince the sovereign, who, for as undecisive as he was, knew that once he made a decision he had to save face by never going back on it. Zinarius cared little for the particular issue at hand, but he knew the ballance between favouring the military at a time and the cabinet at a different time was what allowed him to stay comfortably in place.

Gavrys, a deputy secretary at the diplomatic corps, was given the task of contacting Aalen and re-attempt a more friendly conclusion to the Corix incident. The chief minister of the the diplomatic chambers had given this task to one of his subordinates, and Gavrys knew why. If any message was intercepted, if the plan to host any meeting revealed to anyone outside the ministry or if the meeting was publicized Gavrys's superiors could claim plausible deniability, and at most perhaps face a minor falling out with the sovereign, while the brunt of the punishment would be met by her and anyone acting on her behalf.

She travelled with two trusted confidants to the coastal town of Fallas, near the southernmost Five Provinces territory. There she would meet with another agent, who would then travel into the Five Provinces and meet with an aalian diplomat to arrange the meeting. Not too sure why she had been chosen for this task, Gavrys had accepted the burden of responsibility of everything that could go wrong with it with an unknown and surprising willingness, willingness that would most likely let her get to know where the now infamous captain of the Corix ended up.

Gavrys met with the unnamed agent at Fallas. The bland looking man looked surprised at seeing a woman come to meet him, afterall, it was not often in Rhylindia that women were trusted with political office, much less with relevant political office. But he came to understand, she had been chosen because she was a convenient scapegoat if needed. A woman and a socialist! The two almost go hand in hand, so of course she would be undermining the country.

They didn't exchange courtesies and only a few words. Gavrys briefed him on what he had to do. That he was to take the documents she had given him to an aalian diplomat in the Five Provinces, and that the Rhylindian government was willing to negotiate a partition of western waters to avoid further tensions.

[Catalyse]

The Rhylindian-Five Provinces Border
"I hope this paycheck covers more than the bus trip." She forced smile at his joke, perhaps because his burden was too familiar to her. The man parted ways with Gavrys and her escorts and went to the nearest bus station, where he would take one of the buses that ensured the trip to the Five Provinces. It wasn't the first time that he made the trip, but it was the first time that he made it with documents that could get him in front of a firing squad... in his own country.

He had never suffered through an arduous search, and he had no reason to think he would now. His front had already been believable, his family had been divided between Rhylindia and the Five Provinces, as his documents said, and he had to often make trips between through the border to meet his family in Rhylindia. Not far from the truth, as he had actually been born in what was now the Five Provinces, and had citizenship in that country even if his loyalty lay with another, though his border trips were often made to visit a different kind of family than the one he declared at the border posts.

The relations between the two countries weren't amicable but both sides begrudgingly accepted the need for co-existence. During the trip the bus was at first escorted by two jeeps of the rhylindian army, one at the front and another one at the back, and when they reached the border wall, were tanks on patrol were often seen on both sides, the jeeps of the Five Provinces's army ensured the escort until the bus reached it's destiny, and then made the opposite trip.

At the border post all the bus's occupants were forced out for inspection as was customary. When it reached the man's turn to be questioned a familiar face greeted him. "Farabas, haven't seen you in a while. Been stationed at the northern border recently... how's the family?" - "Mother's ill, next trip will probably be the last visit." - "Sorry to hear... well... papers?" What an awful covert agent he made, the border guards already knew him by face, but in his case it was convenient, the least unfamiliar he made himself the less eyes on him and easier the passage was.

Only an hour and a half until he finally reached the coastal city of Merkaba, the capital of the southernmost province. Once he got there he would still rest for the night, and early the next day he would meet with a contact from the local aalian consulate who would ensure his government's proposal for a meeting would reach the aalian government.

[frattastan]

The customs officer was handling the crimson booklet like an unexploded grenade. He went slowly and carefully through every single page, and then asked the woman standing in front of him to pronounce her unusually-spelled family name.
"Tsederbaum". It had been a while since the last time Elmira had used her surname. The officer seemed somewhat suspicious of the Aalian, since she didn't look much like her passport photo, and in no small part he was suspicious of her country too, since his opinion of them wasn't great and he only strove to tolerate them out of duty to his job. But eventually he decided not to waste further time on it and let her go.
There wasn't much he could have done. If she turned out to be a spy working under diplomatic cover (and her black leather coat definitely gave off that kind of ominous vibe), it wouldn't have been discovered thanks to him.
Besides, the Five Provinces, more tolerant and open than its neighbour, had always seen a fair share of strange foreign types at their border. The government seemed fine with their shady dealings, so long as they didn't involve too much chaos or didn't affect itself.

She took a taxi to the nearest train station. The driver noticed her accent, and asked her where she was from and why she was visiting the Provinces.
She tried giving the most casual replies possible, even if he seemed genuinely curious when she dropped the fact that she went from working in a powerplant to being a trade officer. In her rush and ignorance of local customs, she left without even tipping him. Instead, he got the exact amount of money he was owed to and a firm handshake.

The train arrived on time, and she decided to walk the distance to the cafè where they had arranged to meet with a representative of the Rhylindian diplomatic staff. Printed on pieces of silk and sewn inside her diplomatic pouch there were a letter of credentials from the Council of People's Deputies, and the documents outlining the' proposal to settle the blurry status of the Western Sea's water and hopefully calm the situation there.
The agreement defined two exclusive economic zones, and a common area in the buffer zone between them. Vessels from both countries would have had freedom of navigation and overflight in the area, and they could have exploited the natural resources of the area so long as no irreparable damage was done to the ability of the other party to do the same. Finally, no permanent military installation could be estabilished.

She had been given that task of secret diplomacy less than a week earlier. The Council had met the two delegates of the General Assembly of the Workers of the Western Sea to discuss acceptable solutions to the crisis, and they asked that she be sent to speak for Aalen, since she had been abroad before and was thought to have the required skills. And, more importantly, was one of them and could be trusted to uphold their principles and not compromise too much on their demands. This added the complication of sending her to the country and giving her an adequate cover - using someone who already was in the Five Provinces would have been easier, but after some closed-doors meetings and an exchange of messages between the capital and the consulate (that was to provide the necessary support to her) the issue was solved. What a needlessly intricate process. She wasn't sure if this was sign that their civilisation was a relentless pursuer of cooperation between people, or it meant that they were still stuck in ways inherited from the inner workings of previous labyrinthine state apparatus. She smiled a little, though, as it made her think of a graffito that could be found on the street where she grew up, years before. On it was drawn a terrifying dog, with black fur, flame-red eyes and opened mouth showing all its teeth.
The writing above it said,
"I would tear
at bureaucracy
like a wolf."

[Catalyse]

Farabas was not a superstitious man but stress made him go back to old traditions. He remembered that in his youth older family members, most often his mother or his aunts, would perform their own little ritual, they would kiss a small picture of Taratus, a deity of good fortune and luck in rhylindia, though a statuette would be preferable, and then draw a six pointed star with their feet, as if dancing. This was supposed to bring good luck before a meeting or occasion that would seal a business deal or a marriage, he even remembered seeing his mother doing it when she had arranged him to meet one of her friend's daughters, or when he left his town to finish his studies. When he was younger he would often participate in this and other house rituals with his mother, but as he grew older he became more like his father, whose only ritual was to stare at the portrait of sovereign that was on their kitchen wall and would often berate his mother for indulging in superstitions that, according to him, was no longer in line with the "modernist thought" of the sovereign, which the political elites at the time claimed had replaced the old superstitions of the decrepit and backwards religious governments of the pre-war, though Farabas only took his cynicism, and not the over indulgence in adulation of the government, even if he had come to be a diplomatic agent, while his father had just been a local bureaucrat.

He didn't have a picture of Taratus with him, why would he anyway, but he did have a phone. He thought of himself ridiculous while searching for an image of Taratus, but he thought that once he started doing his own ritual he might as well finish it, what would be more ridiculous, finishing the ritual or being bothered enough by it that he'd stop? He kissed his phone and then awkwardly did the drawing of the six pointed star on the floor as if it was part of some awkwardly performed tap dancing session. He stared blankly at the floor. He left his room, dressed in plain clothes and carrying a backpack with the documents he had been given and walked to the café he had arranged the meeting at. He had come to this café a few times, though mostly at night when locals seemed to congregate in it, though during the day it seemed mostly empty, though what made him choose the café was not the lack of people in it as much as it was that the café's cellar made for a good meeting place where not even the nosy eyes of the owner would observe him.

When the aalian diplomat arrived at the café Farabas was already sitting at a table, which would have been empty if not for his papers given to him, through which he was going through one more time. He was already familiar with the sections, the articles, the maps and all the justifications behind them, though now he was reading more out of curiosity than because he was supposed to be familiar with what he had been entrusted to present to whatever aalian diplomat had come to meet him. He didn't rise from his chair and instead simply held the palm of his right hand up, a formal but cold greeting. " If you want to have something feel free to ask for it at the bar. " He gathered and tidied up the papers, making room for the aalian woman to put the documents her government had entrusted her with.

He thought for a bit. He knew that she most likely understood that he wasn't there with the full knowledge of the Rhylindian government, after all, the communiqué released by his country went against the intents of that meeting, which was to find a peaceful resolution to the issue at hand, and hopefully, create a co-existence that was benefic for both countries. On the other hand, he couldn't act as if he had no authority, otherwise the meeting would seem pointless, but afterall, the aalian had agreed to the meeting, so they believed that those he represented within his government were capable of fulfilling their promises. " I, on the behalf of the rhylindian government, would like to let you and your countrymen know that there are those in Rhylindia that still seek a peaceful resolution, and that is what I'm here for. "

[frattastan]

Elmira nodded in the direction of the Rhylindian official. Before sitting down and taking off her coat she stopped at the bar to order tonic water.
The café wasn't packed full at that time of the day, but there were enough people that they could've hoped not to attract too much attention, even if the papers laid over their table suggested that theirs wasn't a casual appointment. The radio was playing grating rock ballads, of the kind that was still common in countries where art was shackled by the needs of capitalism, and that were decidedly out of step with the gravity of that meeting.

The public location had been chosen at the convenience of the Rhylindians: while she was travelling under diplomatic cover and with full authorisation from the Aalian government, the same couldn't be said for her counterpart. The consulate building was definitely monitored and a meeting there could have easily attracted the attention of the enemy's intelligence services, or even of a journalist.
It was vital that the news didn't catch the attention of the warmongering factions in Rhylindia, lest they take steps to thwart any diplomatic solution by denouncing it as 'collaboration' or 'defeatism'.

While riding the train to Merkaba, she had spent some time thinking about the meeting. It was a strange one. The asymmetry was striking.
Unlike her the Rhylindian had no credentials, or none coming from his head of state anyway, and his position couldn't be taken as authoritative. He could've accepted Aalen's proposal, perhaps, but whether that would've meant anything in the end was a completely different affair.
He represented a hostile power, one that was threatening them right now, but in that context he was a friend, or at least someone who was equally keen on preventing war.

They introduced to each other without much excitement, for the situation didn't inspire it. She opened the diplomatic bag and used a double-edged knife to cut away the documents.
The dispute between the two countries (Aalen seemed unworthy of being called a 'power', despite the ideological ambitions of its builders) revolved for the most part around access to the rich fishing stock of the area, a major source of food and employment. However, the situation had been aggravated by some paranoid concerns of the security apparatus backing the régime in Rhylindia, who felt that through its enroachment of rightful waters the Aalians would have eventually been able to effectively blockade the kingdom in case of war.
With that in mind, the demarcation proposal was somewhat generous to Rhylindia.

Over the next few hours they went over the demarcation proposal - another exercise in drawing imaginary lines over the open sea. Another compromise like many they had made before, and would've continued to do until their struggle had been over.
In Aalen's proposal, none of the disputed waters would've been considered part of the territory of either State, in line with customary law. Instead, most of it would've been assigned as 'exclusive economic zone' to either, with Rhylindia having a slightly larger one. A trapeze-shaped buffer area would've been administered under a special regime: the building of artificial islands or permanent military installations (crewed or not) was forbidden, freedom of navigation and overflight was recognised, and vessels from both countries would have been able to exploit the fisheries of the area within natural replenishment limits. An arbitration commission would have taken care of mediating disputes, and warships committed not to use arms except in self-defence.
Finally, the proposed agreement had no effect nor implied any particular recognition in relation to the borders between Rhylindia and the Five Provinces, another tense situation that was going to blow up sooner or later.
While it established the right to patrol the strait itself, the document was noticeably silent on the contentious issue of whether Aalian warship would have the right of passage across it and into Rhylindia's EEZ.

But all this bureaucratism and debating over intricate details of negligible importance - that nonetheless were considered matters to spill blood over by some national leaders - wouldn't have nearly been enough. The Rhylindian army staff would've seen that kind of compromise as an embarrassment and a show of weakness. It still was a prestigious institution and held a lot of sway with the monarch.
She took a mental note to let Irmak know that the cause of peace may have needed a more forceful helping hand.

[Catalyse]

Farabas knew he would end the meeting without making any promises on behalf of the rhylindian government, without making any statements of authority, and as such the aalian diplomat would have to leave with nothing but the good will from the part of those he was there to represent, which, in truth, couldn't be really be considered the rhylindian government and he wasn't even sure how his superiors were going to force any sort of agreement with Aalen through the Grand Marshal or through the Sovereign after the last attempt failed.

Nonetheless he tried to if, not give assurances, at least sound assuring towards Elmira. " I'm sure you understand my limitations as a representative here, but I assure you that those whom I represent here will strive to have things brought to normality, if not to amicable terms. " He would still have to present the plans to his superiors, though there ought to be little to contest, and after they would contact Aalen again to finalise the agreement, though Farabas did not know if he would be chosen again or replaced by another agent. After sharing their diplomatic goodbyes and exchanging documents he finally left back to the comfort of the small house him family owned in the outskirts of Merkaba, where he would rest for the night and then depart again to the other side of the border, after which he would contact Gavrys, the member of the ministry that was in charge of the covert negotiations.

His bus trip was typically uneventful. As usual, the bus was escorted by two jeeps from the five provinces, until it reached the border, where the bus occupants were asked for their documentation, and then back on the bus, which would be escorted by two rhylindian jeeps until it reached the bus terminal in Fallas. It was there where Farabas, when exiting the bus, seemed to understand what was about to happen when he overlooked several guards lined up on the stop, though, before he could react, one of the guards inside the bus hit from the back with his baton, causing Farabas to fall to the asphalt road outside the bus and immediately being rushed by the guards outside and scurried him to the military truck that was waiting for them.

It wasn't much long after that the truck finally reached its destination, some military facility, where Farabas's interrogators awaited him. It was evident that they weren't at first aware of what he had actually been doing the last few days, nor that he wasn't the only one involved, as they hurled insults and accusations of him being a spy from the five provinces in between beatings, though, once they actually cared to read the documents he carried with him, some of which signed by Gavrys and other officials from the ministry, they would quickly unravel what they had come across. In the events to come he would just be a footnote, as once any government official was implicated whatever was going in some provincial barracks was no longer the focus of anything.

[frattastan]

After the meeting ended Elmira took a walk to reach the Aalian consulate. Upon getting there she would've informed the relevant people about the outcome of the meeting and her advice on how to proceed, and would've stayed there for a few days, in case she was still needed. She also remembered that she had promised to call Iskra and Kim, back home, but she was already late enough on that and thought she might as well wait until she got to her destination to deal with that.

The streets near Merkaba's train station seemed as vibrant with life about as much as they were neglected by the authorities. On the side opposite to the brutalist buildings there were apartment blocks and small stores full of people, in front of whom children played with and without their parents. A few people slept on makeshift cardboard beds, forgotten and abandoned as if they were things. Now and then the landscape was immersed in a smell of ammonia that was nearly unbearable.

A bit farther, the Aalian consulate building was fairly anonymous and run-down, although still a pleasant sight for her. She dealt with the message, encrypting it with a substitution cipher and carefully disposing of the key before sending it over, and then made her phone calls, which were well-received despite some complaints about her lateness.

The room where she was meant to stay was typically small and spartan, with a bed and a nightstand with an old AM radio on it. A fluorescent lamp hung from the ceiling; it still did its job well, even if the area around the electrode was blackened and the light must've been much weaker than it used to be.

It was evening, the following day, when they let her know the bad news. "Our contact has been arrested. The plan might be compromised."
She didn't seem too perturbed by this, although she let a snort out. They tried their best to pursue that path; they knew it wasn't enough on its own, and now the matter had become even more difficult, but someone would have found a solution. At that point they weren't even sure if the meeting with Farabas would matter at all, but it was something that had to be tried, in the same way as they tried to overcome many issues before. Now that her role as the temporary centerpiece of that game was over, she was ready to pass those duties and lose herself among the countless heroes that made up her people.
This was nothing unusual for an Aalian. Life was uneasy, and every day there were surprises, worries, hopes and terrors (even the terror of aerial bombings now...), and all that would've been unbearable for a single person to face, no matter how resourceful, left to their own without the support of their fellows.

She took a pill that she had been keeping in her pocket, as if by mindless habit, and turned her back to the room's dwindling electric light.