June 18, 1640

Washington D.C.

“Hmm, I wonder what these things are all about, anyway,” President Lee muttered as he set a letter down on his desk, grabbing his mug of coffee.

Seated across from each other on the couches, Heiden and Hill shared a look of uncertainty. They too were in the dark, although Heiden was able to offer some explanation, “Sir, I’ve had a team research the geopolitics of Elysia. Apparently, the World Leadership Conference is a gathering of eleven of Elysia’s top powers. These include five superpowers as permanent members, and six other nations.”

“Alright. So, who should we expect to see there?”

Heiden explained, “The confirmed members are ourselves, the Holy Mirishial Empire, the Emor Kingdom, Mu, and the Gra Valkas Empire.”

Lee commented, “So we’re replacing the Parpaldians, and the Gra Valkans are going in place of the Leiforians, huh?”

“More or less.” Heiden shrugged, “Although, the Parpaldians are still attending, since they’re the second most powerful player in the Philadean continent after us.”

“Who else?”

“The Annonrial Empire, Magikareich Community, Torquia Kingdom, and the Agartha Kingdom. The Nigrat Union was a recurring member in the past, but with their current subjugation under the Gra Valkans, it’s likely that they’ll be substituted with another nation.”

“How unfortunate,” Lee said, taking a moment of silence. “Well, I hope this conference will be as well-mannered as UN assemblies.”

Heiden reacted negatively, giving an uncertain smile. “Ah, let’s not get our hopes up, Mister President. A lot of Elysians from powerful countries have proven to be very… arrogant.”

“Really?” Lee asked, surprised. He thought back to the dinner he hosted a few nights ago, “I thought they acted quite respectfully during the Artemis launch.”

“To Americans, perhaps. But to each other? The Gra Valkans were really at odds with those Muans and Mirishials.”

“Huh,” Lee started to recall the small things that he had overlooked, such as glares between the other parties and clenched fists around glasses. “I suppose I was a bit too busy to notice. And you expect the same type of behavior from the Annonrials?”

Heiden didn’t know how to answer. From what he could gather, the Annonrials maintained their barbarian facade during past Conferences. “It’s hard to tell,” he admitted. “In the past, they kept a low profile. Meeting records show that they rarely participated in conversation, usually speaking to vote only. Because of social stigma and the Annonrials’ primitive appearances, few bothered to communicate with them. Those who did were given vague responses and an instruction to visit Bushpaka Latan. With their increased activity around the world, though, there’s no telling what they might do.”

“I agree,” Hill chimed in. “I don’t expect that they’ll act out of line, but we should have our guard up in case they do.”

Lee raised a finger in the air, “That brings me to my next point. I’ve heard that the World Leadership Conference has a tradition where members arrive in their best fleets? Is that true?” He asked, looking at Heiden.

With a slightly bewildered expression, he answered, “Yes, sir. It’s true. Members typically show up to Cartalpas with their premier fleets. It’s quite jarring compared to the rather tame diplomacy we had back on Earth, but seeing as this world is more accustomed to gunboat diplomacy, I suggest we adhere to this… tradition.”

Lee then turned to Hill. “Suggestions?”

“Sir, I recommend deployment of the Ford Carrier Strike Group, with the recently reactivated Missouri attached. She’s mostly been used as a test bed so far, but I think her appearance at the Conference might be beneficial for us, if these Elysians truly abide by gunboat diplomacy.”

“Speak softly and carry a big stick,” Lee thought of President Roosevelt’s foreign policy.

“Affirmative, sir,” Hill nodded. “Once the Conference is over, they’ll be reassigned to Seventh Fleet operations near the Vestal region.”

“We’re not taking them away from something important, are we?”

“No, sir. It’s actually on the way.”

“Oh, perfect!” Lee said ecstatically, softly clapping his hands together. “Well in that case, let’s send them the new orders.” Lee felt more reassured, knowing that Heiden’s team could participate safely, under the protection of the United States’ most advanced carrier strike group. “I doubt the Gra Valkans or Annonrials would try anything funny, but I wouldn’t put it beyond them. Tell them to watch their backs.”

“Will do, sir.”

With military matters settled, Lee was left with questions about the Conference itself and diplomacy. “Gordon, what can we expect at the Conference? Will it be similar to UN General Assemblies?”

“Yes, something like that. The World Leadership Conference is usually used to bring the most prominent global issues to light. These issues and potential solutions are then discussed by the participating members over the course of several days, during which budgets and finalized proposals are drawn up. At the end of the session, the participants vote on their preferred solution. In the past, most Conferences have been about colonial disputes, protection of trade routes, and feral monsters. With current events, I expect this year’s Conference to be about Gra Valkan aggression and the return of the Ravernal Empire.”

Lee wondered if he could take advantage of this opportunity to better prepare the Elysian nations, but he worried about the thoughts of his own constituents. “The polls still show sixty-two percent support for a war against the Gra Valkans.” Despite his desire to push the Gra Valkans back, he couldn’t. Not yet. He lowered his head in regret, “If the Elysians say anything about the Gra Valkans, I’m giving you full authority to support them with anything short of all-out war. Unless the Gra Valkans declare war on us first, I’d like to wait until we hit at least eighty percent approval before tackling them.”

“Failure to act might be seen in a negative light by our Elysian allies,” Heiden cautioned.

Lee sighed, “I know. Even so, I can’t force a war and risk my reelection or my party. Losing our grip could spell doom at the hands of the Ravernals, especially if the wrong person takes power. It’s up to you to explain why we’re not involved, be it due to a lack of bases overseas, how far away the Gra Valkans are, or something else. Whatever you say, Gordon, make sure that our Elysian allies don’t see weakness or disinterest.”

Heiden nodded. “I’ll come up with something. As for the Ravernal situation, what do you want our official position to be?”

“Hmm,” Lee thought. “Is the Conference televised?”

“The main discussions will be televised. Only the arduous proposal writing and other mundane activities are not.”

He sighed, “Okay then.” Since the Conference is planned to be televised, he could expect the American public to find out what’s going on behind the scenes. As of yet, only 30 percent of Americans saw the Ravernals as a threat. Most were undecided, but shockingly, a staggering 20 percent saw them as a nonexistent threat, with many skeptical of their existence in the first place. An adept opponent could skew a misstep during the World Leadership Conference to paint Lee and his administration as superstitious fools who are wasting money on the military. Fearing the worst, Lee opted for a more neutral approach. “Acknowledge their concerns, but disclose as little about our plans as possible. If this is not an option, then be adamant that we will not be financing any preparatory response until we learn more about the situation. The Elysians will likely try to convince us that the threat is real. Obtain as much information and evidence from them as possible, then divert attention away from them by talking about uh, what we know about the Ravernals so far.”

“Got it,” Heiden said. He prepared to develop a plan to carry out Lee’s orders, but quickly stopped himself upon realizing something. “Wait, sir, the Annonrials will be present during the Conference. If we inadvertently inform them of what we’re doing… There’s no telling how they will react. We might be setting off a bomb here.”

While Lee pondered the situation, Hill added his own thoughts, “Sir, we still don’t have our western bases set up. If the Annonrials lash out, we won’t be able to project power outside of Philades.”

“Shit, alright then. Refrain from saying anything related to the Ravernals. Give them vague reassurances about our ability to protect ourselves, and distribute information to the Elysians in private – away from the prying eyes of the public and away from the scrutiny of the Annonrials. We’ll give everyone the pretense of neutrality and ignorant indifference to the Ravernal situation. Meanwhile, we’ll continue building up defenses in secret, until the public is ready to hear about the threats we face.”

—-

Ragna, Gra Valkas Empire

Emperor Gra Lux sipped wine from a luxurious goblet while he listened to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ leader, a burly viking named Skarde Mopole. His position as boss of the entire ministry was complemented well by his frightening physique, which often scared subordinates and foreign diplomats. Gra Lux, however, felt no such terror. Instead, he looked at the man with a sense of slight disdain.

Mopole noticed the look on his Emperor’s face and with a meek, concerned tone, he asked, “Your Excellency, is there something wrong?”

Gra Lux calmly placed his goblet down beside him and stood from his seat, walking toward Mopole. “Do you ask out of concern for my wellbeing? Or do you ask out of concern for yourself?” He loomed over the man, sending shivers down his spine.

With trembling legs, Mopole sheepishly responded, “Y-Your wellbeing, sir!”

Gra Lux scoffed and returned to his seat. Toying with his subordinates and seeing them cower in fear was fun, but he did not wish to waste his time further. “Continue your report.”

“His Highness the Crown Prince, as well as Director Gesta and his subordinates, are now returning from their activities on Nahanath. They confirmed the validity of American space launch capabilities.”

“Hmph. So it seems they truly are advanced. Was Heimdall able to glean any secrets from the launch?”

“Yes, enough to point us in the right direction, he claims.”

Gra Lux felt joy, hearing that his goal of bridging the gap between his nation and the United States was one step closer to fruition. “Good. Have him submit a report to me at once. Anything else?”

Seeing the Emperor smile a bit, Mopole felt emboldened to continue with his report and introduce his proposal. “Yes, Your Excellency! We have received an invitation to attend the World Leadership Conference, hosted by the Holy Mirishial Empire. Because we deposed the former superpower Leifor, they have requested we attend in their stead.”

Gra Lux’s smile grew. “So it seems that even the Mirishials recognize our might. Oh, to see their arrogance shattered and their people groveling beneath me. Just imagining it brings me such ecstasy.”

Encouraged further by Gra Lux’s attitude, Mopole jumped at the opportunity. “Yes, Your Excellency! Your dreams can come to light as soon as the date of the Conference!”

Gra Lux raised an eyebrow, intrigued by what Mopole had to say. “Go on.”

“As customary, the best fleets of the Conference participants will be gathered at Cartalpas. With our forces occupying Sonal and Nigrat, we can further our ambition and cripple our next targets by launching a surprise attack on their fleets!”

Gra Lux’s smile quickly disappeared and his prior disdainful expression grew in several orders of magnitude. Despite Mopole’s powerful appearance, he lacked the most critical component of diplomacy: cunning. Mopole rose through the ranks with use of brutality, which worked well with inferior neighbors and soon-to-be vassals. However, this strategy did not fare so well in the face of an equal, such as the Kain Divine Kingdom – or worse, a more powerful adversary like the United States of America. “Why, your proposal is rather ingenious, except for one little flaw,” He frowned, glaring at Mopole.

Mopole could only quiver in response, keeping his mouth shut to prevent himself from saying anything that could further enrage the Emperor.

Gra Lux continued, “A surprise attack like this is a flagrant violation of the treaty that YOUR ministry signed with the Americans! Imbecile!”

Mopole sunk his knees further into the ground and pushed his head down until he felt as if he was going to break through the floor.

Gra Lux looked at the miserable display with scorn. “I am rather weary of your idiocy and deplorable prostration. I chose you to lead the Ministry of Foreign Affairs because you struck fear into the hearts of our enemies.” He looked at the hunched over man, imbuing his frown with even more disgust. “What a fall from grace. Send Director Gesta here when he arrives. Then, you may remove your belongings from your office in the Ministry. You’re fired.”