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The United States of The Islands and The Holy American Empire


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[b]The Atlantic Ocean[/b]


Vice President Robert McNeil flew on a plane to the Holy American Empire to negotiate future relations between the nations. The President was on vacation and now he was heading towards the New World - it was okay though, it was a slow week. "This is USI Airforce Two, requesting permission to enter Holy American airspace? The Vice President is here on a diplomatic mission to further increase relations between our two nations."

The Concord stayed outside of the Holy American airspace until word would be given.

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A crackling radio broadcast greeted him, punctuated by occasional bursts of static and a more unidentifiable noise, suspiciously like gunfire.

"Negative, say again negative Airforce - Two! Situation here is *crackle* stable. *crackle* engulfing the capital all because of Lord *crackle* and his broadcast! Recommend you get a hold of *crackle* who can guide you to the *crackle*. Lupus, hold the !@#$@#$ door! They can't have many people le-" The other sounds grew closer and closer all while the air traffic controller was speaking, until in one loud burst of noise his voice was cut off midsentence. The next thirty seconds of the log were a confusion of shouting and gunfire.

The noise grew to a crescendo before falling off suddenly to footsteps, growing louder.

"This is Lord Admiral Wiggin. Your timing is most unfortunate, but negotiable. Please reroute your trip to Imperial Center and land. There is much to discuss."

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The plane was given priority through the bustling Imperial Airspace. They touched down without incident on the main landing-strip and debarked, to be escorted to the once-capital building (and, god willing, once more to be). Lord Admiral Wiggin had considered outside interference with the ongoing unrest as undesirable, but that didn't mean he would refuse to at least meet with foreign dignitaries. Especially those who had no real idea of what was going on in the world's largest Empire and its' constituencies.


"Vice President McNeil." Wiggin smiled slightly, standing. At 6'5" he was a rather large person, though built slimly. The dark-blue uniform officers of the Navy wore was adorned with three stars on epaulets to either side. A single medal hung from his chest; the Imperial Starburst given only for spitting in death's face and surviving the experience. The medal consisted of an artillery shell exploding violently on a man who remained untouched, defiant even.

Lord Admiral Wiggin reached out to shake the Vice President's hand. "If you would care to be seated," he gestured to the empty seat next to him, "we can discuss whatever you came here to accomplish. Then, I will explain my position and the realities therein. From there I hope to reach a happy medium acceptable to both of us." The slight smile grew broader and he chuckled ruefully.

"Forgive me, but I tend to forgo the political niceties."

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Robert smiled and shook Lord Wiggin's hand. "I understand I come to you in the most troubling of times for you and your people. I understand that you could be doing more important things right now and I know you are busy so hopefully I can make this short. The United States would like a treaty with the Holy American Empire. It may not be tomorrow, or the day after that - it may not even be five months from now - but I know my country will need your help soon. And.. no matter how small we are, we would be willing to help you now.
Your Empire is the largest and possibly the grandest..." Robert paused for a second, "Doing so, i would allow the construction of a military facility near the one of the Kingdom of Cochin's. Your Lordship, I only ask that we can become mutual friends so that one day when all of this settles - you, President O'Reilly, and I can sit down in Douglas by a fire and joke about stories from when we were younger." Robert stopped talking and waited for a response.

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"Forgive me if this sounds flattering, but there is very little I would like more than to open relations with the Island." He smiled slightly and gestured at the grand vista of Imperial Center in front of them. They were up in the former Imperator's office in what was once the governing building for the Imperium of Man. The breathtaking view from hundreds of feet up was not of nature's beauty, but man's ingenuity. As far as the eye could see there were buildings and walkways connecting them; narrow streets fit only for public transportation and megascrapers as large as the one they were in rising to challenge the heavens. All of it belied a raw sense of power not conveyed anywhere else in the world, even Foundation.

It was a distinctly Imperial city: both in architecture and the way it straddled the Intercontinental Canal so assured of its' perpetuity. Out of eyesight across the canal was a different story, though. Wreckage was by and large cleared but the suddenly open land in the heart of the mighty megalopolis gave rise to sprawling industrial complexes and apartment buildings which stretched down instead of up.

Almost as if their citizens pled with Mother Earth to protect them.

"Some of the Empire's former mistakes," Wiggin was staring out the window now, to the east where his command was docked. "was an almost constant refusal to entertain relations with nations outside our sphere of influence or those who, frankly, had something to offer us in the way of security or economy. I won't pretend that I didn't support it at the time, but therein lies the problem. At the time." He sighed and turned to the Vice-President. "As I'm sure you're aware, the Empire is in a state of chaos right now. That will not last long.

"It all began several weeks ago where Emperor Roxas was televising a speech." For some reason, the Admiral felt a need to tell someone about everything that had happened. Even someone who already knew through diplomatic briefs.

"A bomb virtually vaporized the floor of Aegis Cathedral he was broadcasting from, and brought tons of rubble from above down on the room. All of this came at the time that the Emperor was going public with the corruption and regionalism that has so split the Imperial Senate over the last few years." He raised a hand as if to forestall a protest. "Contrary to world belief, the Empire is not as monolithic as we may seem." A wry smile worked its' way into his face.

"Quite the contrary.

"All of this ties together in that the reason the Empire is falsely considered so unified is due to that lack of diplomacy; the isolation it entailed doubtlessly painted a vague picture of the Empire in the eyes of the world. It was inefficient on many levels, it belied trust in our government, and prevented us from saving countless lives in other countries through possible intervention. But, damn it, it worked. All thanks to the original Emperor.

"He was the ultimate practitioner of realpolitik; the ultimate 'what can you do for me' statesman." Lord Admiral Wiggin paused for an instant to catch his breath. "Those times, and his reign are over. I guarantee you that once the current unpleasantness is over, we will look to the United States as a valued, friendly government. All I can do for you now is ensure passage through Imperial waters, at least, those I control."

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Vice President Robert McNeil looked down at the floor and slowly raised his eyes. His body slowly rose from the chair he was seated in and looked out to the beautiful megalopolis outside, "Other nations may see things other ways but I can assure you that the people of the Islands see this is an amazing place in the world. We hope to create half of what you have created one day...... From the deepest vessel in my heart I thank you for your time..... God speed.." Robert gave him a small card with his contact information, "If you ever need anything.."

He backed up slowly, giving one final nod before heading off. A new respect was just made - a huge one.

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