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None of them have first names, you know.


Sargun II
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"...they've been displaced, Councilman."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Ata?"

"It-it means, sir, that there are approximately eight hundred thousand New Zealanders stuck in that protectorate. Sir."

"Then we're going to get them out. Ring up that Tintagyl woman. I have to talk to her again," Norman said, sighing and pushing some self-erasing documents into a bin full of UV light. They'd wipe themselves in twenty four hours, then be given to schoolchildren to use as training paper never to be seen again. Moments later, he was out the door and into the chilly winter air, pulling a cloak around him as he headed for his private Cessna. It'd be another flight to Brisbane.

----

ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, sarah tintagyl's phone, do do do dodo

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"Milady?" The inevitable knock was heard on the mahogany doors as the Chamberlain walked in frown on his face as he normally did when disturbing the few minutes of the day that Sarah could have to herself.

Sarah looked up at the door, embarrassed, her bare feet on the desk, with bottles of nail polish around her and small cotton balls placed neatly between her toes. "Oh Vikram? What is it?"

"You have a telephone call from the New Zealand line that requires your immediate attention."

"Okay, thank you." The Chamberlain bowed and retreated back through the doorway as Sarah blew on her hands once more before reaching for the phone and placing it between her mouth and shoulder. "Sarah Tintagyl here, can I help you?"

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"I hope I didn't interrupt extremely important business, Miss Tintagyl," Norman said as he relaxed on his in-flight waterbed. It was good for his back, you know - very relaxing and soothing. "I am currently on a flight to Brisbane - my daughter, Emily, studies there. However, just before I left I was given troubling information about New Zealanders. It appears, Miss Tintagyl, that Aotearoa forcefully displaced several hundred thousand New Zealanders across several islands in the Pacific. Would you happen to know which islands these New Zealanders reside on, as they are, of course, yours?"

He nodded to his flight attendant (attendants - they're twins), who handed him a glass of strange red liquid that he never could remember the name of. It tasted like lemons. "In addition, the Council of Twelve is interested in a, ah, partnership."

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She looked at her feet and chuckled slightly. "No, you're not disturbing at all." But she couldn't help but sigh when he mentioned about the displaced New Zealanders. "Well there's nothing that I can do over the phone, but if you're coming to Brisbane anyways, perhaps you can meet me at the Diet and we can have lunch and discuss this on a more personal level. Then I can tell you what islands are in question, cause I have my own plans for a few of the islands to begin with. As to a partnership, I was hoping for those words awhile ago, but its nice to here that New Zealand wants to communicate."

Sarah took her feet off the desk and began to repaint her fingernails. "Yeah, just come to the Diet Hall and they'll be sure to allow you entrance. I look forward to meeting you again Norman."

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Norman had a fun day with his daughter. They did stuff that people in Brisbane normally do (whatever the hell that is), he gave her a ten thousand dollar gift, then went to the Diet Hall. He was quite tired after having been led (lead?) by his twenty year old daughter around the city, and he didn't quite feel up to the task of negotiating a treaty with the Empress of the World or whatever the hell they call her. However, he was determined to set his people free.

He went to the Diet Hall, hungry and tired. "I'm here to see Miss Tintagyl?" He asked a random, pretty looking sort of woman. She blinked and looked around, then pointed her out, sitting at a table. "Thanks."

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Sarah had just returned from lunch with one of her ministers when she had returned to the Diet for her end of the day clean up. Which consisted of running up to her office, grabbing her keys, and running back out of the door off home. But she stopped for a minute to sit and chat with a few of the interns who had just started working in the Diet with some of the more influential families of the Hanseatic elite. Telling them simply to beware of what could possibly happen to them if they fell too far into the political promises of some senators. But just as she was getting up from the table, she could hear talking from the front desk and the familiar face of Norman could be seen approaching her across the floor.

"Ah. Mr. Norman. Its a pleasure." She shook his hand. "Please, I was just heading up to my office, we can talk up there." She escorted him up to her quarters and poured him a glass of wine and moved her nail polish from before. "So what all did you want to talk about again?"

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"It's just Norman, please," he said quietly, drinking his glass of wine in a large gulp and smiling slightly. "I'm afraid that my people have been spread around the Pacific. Well, they are still spread around, and it was done by that beast LeVentNoir when he was ruler of Aotearoa. We've lost.. millions of people, hundreds of thousands of which are New Zealanders. And we cannot support them on the home islands, but they are not.. well, they cannot be adequately represented," he said with a quiet sigh.

"I am very sorry to trouble you for more land, Miss Tintagyl. But we need our people. They need us."

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Sarah nodded as she sipped the liquid out of the glass. "I can identify with your plight Norman." She sighed and looked at a few papers covering her desk. "I should tell you that the Hansa is incredibly thin right now for military personnel and we need every soldier that we can get to defend our frontiers. Especially with the Lu Rebellion going on. However, given New Zealand's push for stability and compassion to their native people, perhaps we can agree to something. Most of the islands in question for you lay west of the island of Fiji. We would be willing to give up those islands to New Zealander rule, for a few economic treaties and perhaps a defense agreement."

"Your thoughts?"

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"Fiji has the most displaced population - and east of that there's very little sense of having, as they weren't populated very much at all and used as testing or whatever the hell that beast dreamed up," Norman said, smiling genuinely. "We would be glad to have Fiji-West, Miss Tintagyl. And a partnership with your nation would not be out of the question," he added, taking out a feather quill and placing it on her desk. Without so much as asking, he grabbed the wine bottle and gulped it down some more, his mood brightening as he did.

"That feather quill is a symbol of our freedom. Every Free Zealander wore one. I wish for you to have mine. A starting gift for our nations and their new partnerships."

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