Hunsdon Republic
"Get them on the phone...now."
The Head Minister's office was in chaos. Aides and advisors ran frantically across the space, disappearing through flashing doors as new faces appeared in their place. The low rumble of hurried conversation concealed the heavy thud of the Minister's fists as he pounded them on the cluttered desk and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. It was going to be a long day.
It took thirteen hours to get the Inchoate Nation on the phone. By the time they had worked their way up to the Supreme Head, Minister Stroud's patience was wearing thin and his confidence in their plan was running even thinner. The office went quiet.
"Supreme Head Oolantuy," Stroud said through a forced smile. "It is a pleasure to speak with you at last."
"Say what you will, Blasphemer," came the acid response. "Only begging for our mercy will save you."
Minister Stroud could feel the eyes crawling all over him. Every man and woman was frozen, transfixed by the scene unravelling before them.
When the Capital water supply had been poinsoned three days earlier, it had caused panic and pandemonioum throughout the country. The culprits, the Inchoate Nation, had taken responsibility at once, declaring their hatred for the wealthy Hunsdon Republic and their joy at the chaos the attack had caused. Only a few victims had been struck down, but every citizen in the Republic was scared. It was Minister Stroud they looked to now, and it was him that they depended on for justice in the wake of the attack.
Stroud took another breath and measured his words carefully. It was hard moving forward with people that saw only one way, but it had to be done.
"Very well," Stroud said with a firm grimace. "Let's cut the shit. You attacked us and that comes with penalties. We can make nice now, or we can get messy. Making nice will save us all a lot of time, a lot of money. It will save you a lot of lives. If you don't want to make nice...well, you know that will go badly for you."
There was silence on the other end of the line. Minister Stroud let his hope grow in the quiet. His voice had been strong, firm -- more confident than he felt. More than that, it had been true. The Inchoate Nation enjoyed a place at the Table of Nations. All it would take was one call from Stroud to make sure they never enjoyed that place again, and that would mean the complete collapse of its trade and economy.
The line crackled and the silence was broken by a low, strange noise. It grew louder and louder until it was the most sinister cackle Minister Stoud had ever heard.
"Give us your sanctions," Supreme Head Oolantuy hissed. "It will be the last order you ever give."
The line went dead.
Stround put down the receiver and lowered himself slowly into his seat. It was going to be an even longer day than he thought.
"Get the Chair of the Table of Nations on the line. We're shutting down the borders of the Inchoate Nation. No more trade, no more medical or scientific aid, nothing. They don't exist. Nothing goes in, nothing comes out. Let's see how long their resolve lasts when they have no resources or money to survive on."
The aide stared at the Minister blankly for a second and Stroud could see the fear in his eyes.
"Now," Minister Stroud barked. The aide scurried off to send the order and secure the line.
Thank god they don't have a military, Stround thought to himself as the low din of his advisors started up again. Thank God none of us have a military.