KnightofTempest
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Chapter 52
🕑 Added 2024-11-20 11:06:23 +0000 UTCThe Reykjavik Marina was a district alive with all sorts of activity, though, on this particular section, it was a lot more upscale than the commercial section, where cargo was loaded on and off ships and river trawlers brought their catches of freshwater fish in to be weighed and sold at the Reykjavik Fish Market. No, here was where all sorts of luxury yachts and speedboats for the rich and idle to play on were docked.
My destination was the futuristic-looking rhomboid building on the marina front. The Herring Club was named after the Rasalhaguian River Herring, a type of whitefish that had been instrumental in ensuring the early colony had succeeded all those centuries ago and still formed a large part of the average Rasalhaguian's Diet to this day. Large river trawlers could still be seen plying the rivers of Rasalhague, scooping up River Herring for sale at fishmarkets in Reykjavik and elsewhere, but nowadays, most of the catch came from fish farms.
That didn't stop the Herring Club from having a nautical theme to it. As I entered, I spotted all sorts of flags and ensigns on the walls, while the brass ship's bell of a River Trawler was on display in the lobby. It reminded me somewhat of an Old School Terran Yacht Club in terms of decor, though the atmosphere was somewhat more serious than that, being a place where the movers and shakers of Rasalhaguian Society dined and made backroom deals.
The traditional decor of the interior, with its nautical theme, wooden fixtures, and old-school lanterns clashed with the sleek exterior. In fact, you might never recognize the Herring Club for what it was if you only glanced at the outside. That was, I was sure, exactly how various people liked it. It was hard to do a backroom deal in a place where just anyone could find, after all.
At any rate, as soon as I made my way over to the Hostess Station, which was being manned by a blonde in a navy blue vest over a white silk blouse. A navy blue bowtie completed the ensemble. All in all, she was the picture of Rasalhaguian Beauty Ideals, likely intentional on the part of the establishment.
"Good evening, I am Ilse can I help you?" Questioned the Hostess.
"Ksaize Jozef Poniatowski. I was invited here by Jarl Cory Andrews." I nodded, introducing myself.
"Of course, your grace. Please, follow me. His Lordship is currently seated at the bar and is waiting for you." Nodded the Hostess as she led me away from the hostess stand.
The Bar, as it turned out, was more of the same nautical theming with wooden fixtures and old-school lanterns providing light. Windows gave a view of the Klaraven River as yachts passed by the club, the interior hardly matching the exterior in favor of ambiance. The shelves behind the bar were stocked with all sorts of bottles of top-shelf liquor from Predlitz Krupnik to Rasalhaguian Akavit, Pomme de Terre Rum and Radsdadt Scotch, Satalice Absinth and Unzmarkt Schnapps. All manner of liquors from all around the Second Principality could be found here.
Seated at the bar, sipping a glass of scotch on the rocks, was Jarl Andrews. He nodded at me as I approached, and surprisingly, Ilse the hostess took up a position bartending. At my confused look, Jarl Andrews let out a laugh before moving to explain.
"The Hostesses here are all trained to do almost any job. They can bartend, wait tables, work the hostess stand, and even help out in the kitchen. It's a good position for an ambitious twenty-something who might want to start her own restaurant one day." Explained Jarl Andrews.
"It would seem so. I suppose that's what this sort of money gets you." I shrugged.
"True enough. Even under the Combine's Boot, they never truly cracked down on the Herring Club. To do so would have angered the people who they were milking for C-Bills during the occupation. It's hard to finance something like that without sources of local cash, after all." Snorted Jarl Andrews.
"What can I get you, your grace?" Questioned Ilse.
"Krupnik please." I responded.
Ilse poured me a glass and I nodded thankfully, taking a sip of the Sweet Honey Liquor. It went down smooth and warmed me up inside, always a good thing given how blustery it could get in Reykjavik on any given day. Jarl Andrews could only grin and shake his head.
"Krupnik, eh? It's no Scotch." He chuckled.
"We each have our own favorites." I shrugged.
"And tell me, what is it that you favor?" Queried Jarl Andrews.
I turned toward Ilse to see she was studiously restocking some of the emptier bottles on the shelves and thus not paying attention to our conversation. I guess in a place like this, membership dues covered discretion as well as food and drink. Turning back to Jarl Andrews I began my sales pitch.
"I favor Rasalhague's Continued independence, which is why we need a capable Prince who's not currently in the Combine's Pocket." I began.
"And let me guess, you think that should be you?" Asked Jarl Andrews.
"I do. If I'm being frank, My Lord, I have already demonstrated the capability of defeating the Combine in open battle in space and on the ground. I have a realm unattached to Rasalhague that I can draw reinforcements from in any future war with the Combine, and I have the backing of the Lyrans, who are also enemies of the Combine." I laid out.
"The Lyrans have other enemies beyond the Combine, though. If it were to come down to war, they would have other commitments." Pointed out Jarl Andrews.
"True, but I would not, and some backing from the Lyrans is better than none at all. I have been told you're an honorable man who values forthrightness, so I'll be even more frank. The Comte de Rochefort is in the Combine's Pocket, and Haakon Magnusson has been duped by the Combine into thinking them the only viable choice for rebuilding the sluggish economy of the Principality. Both of them would see Rasalhague back under the domination of the Combine, de facto if not de jure." I tried.
"And you came by this information how?" Questioned Jarl Andrews.
"That, My Lord, is the benefit of having your own intelligence service staffed with capable agents. It's just one of many benefits that backing me can bring to the Principality. My military is also quite formidable, has already defeated the DCMS in campaigns against their Puppets in Oberon, and if Elected Prince, would be used to defend Rasalhague as well as New Ålborg, and you've already seen my willingness to sacrifice for the good of the economy of Rasalahague. I am willing to invest in GKT Enterprises as well as other Rasalhaguian Economies to further that." I insisted.
"You make a persuasive argument, however, there's also the potential to take a third option. Some of the Regentskapsråd were thinking of getting the votes together to back Vévoda Kolowrat for Prince instead. What would you think of that?" Queried Jarl Andrews.
"I think that investing Vévoda Kolowrat with the position of Prince as well as that of Speaker of the Legislature, once the Regentskapsråd turns into the Riketsråd after the election is over, is too much power to be invested in any one man. It's not healthy for the realm." I answered.
"And you would defend the liberties of the Realm? Keep the Executive and Legislature separate?" Pressed Jarl Andrews.
"The Prince must work with the Riketsråd, not dominate it. It's the only way to ensure that the state functions as intended." I nodded.
"Well, you have made a solid case. How do I know you're capable of following through, though?" Asked Jarl Andrews.
"I thought you might need some sort of proof of my capabilities. Here." I grinned, sliding a datachip over to Jarl Andrews.
"What's this?" Questioned Jarl Andrews.
"The access codes for Warehouse Twelve-B at the Reykjavik Spaceport, currently leased by me for the duration of my stay on Rasalhague. Inside, you will find a single lance of SLDF Vintage Royal Highlanders as proof of my sincerity." I responded.
"That's quite generous. Give me a moment to verify things." Hedged Jarl Andrews.
He produced a Dataslate from somewhere inside the diplomatic satchel that he had sat next to the bottom of his bar stool and began to de-encrypt the Datachip. Then he sent off the codes to someone on his staff for verification. The whole process took about ten minutes. Then we had to wait for Jarl Andrews' Man to verify the Highlanders were where I said they were.
As we waited, we drank and swapped war stories. Jarl Andrews told the tale of a Battle on Thule against Santander's Killers during his stint as commander of the Caithness Highlanders. Apparently, he dueled Helamar Valesek during a battle outside Thule City and won, though the Pirate Lord managed to retreat with his Mech Damaged, but repairable. The Pirates left without gaining any plunder, however. In return, I told him the tale of my Campaign against Maria Morgraine.
By the time we'd swapped those initial stories, however, Jarl Andrews' Man had verified the Highlanders were where I said. This caused Jarl Andrews to nod at me with a grin.
"All right, let's talk terms over dinner." He intoned.
Ilse, having finished stocking bottles at some point during the swapping of War Stories, led us into the dining room. Naval Pennants hung from wooden rafters as more windows showed the various yachts out on the Klaraven River. Once more, everything was incongruous with the outside. Jarl Andrews must have sensed my confusion because he moved to explain as we were seated.
"They're not actual windows. They're holoscreens showing the Klaraven as it would be in an idealized setting. Why do you think there's no light pollution from the city?" He explained.
"That. . .makes a great deal of sense." I frowned.
"Indeed. Now, let's order and get down to business." Smirked Jarl Andrews.
"What can I get for you, My Lords?" Queried Ilse.
"I'll have the Grilled River Herring with Peas, Mint, and Meyer Lemon." Ordered Jarl Andrews.
"Not too hungry, then?" I asked.
"I had a late lunch that was fairly large." Admitted Jarl Andrews.
Looking down at the menu, there wasn't really a choice. I had to get a steak, that was something shared between my life as it was and the life I lived on Twenty-First Century Terra in my dreams. Plus with garlic mashed potatoes, the choice was never more clear.
"I'll have the porterhouse, medium, with herb butter." I ordered.
"And for a side?" Questioned Ilse.
"Garlic Mashed Potatoes. Also, I'll take a Julmust as well." I added.
"Drinking soda?" Queried Jarl Andrews.
"I have to cut my intake to keep up with you." I chuckled.
"Well, we can't all be born Scotsmen." Laughed Jarl Andrews.
"I'll put those in right away, My Lords." Nodded Ilse before leaving.
Then we got down to brass tacks with the negotiations. Mostly, Jarl Andrews wanted to know the number of Regiments I had and how many I would be willing to commit to the defense of Rasalhague in the event of War with the Combine. He also wanted to hammer down an actual investment plan for GKT Enterprises. He was looking for at least five regiments worth of commitment, plus at least a billion C-Bills a year for five years in investment for GKT Enterprises.
The Former I was all too willing to agree to, in fact, I saw his five regiments and raised him three, up to eight regiments in total. That was because I couldn't commit more than a billion C-Bills a year for five years in investment for GKT. Not if I also had to commit to investing in Swedenborg Heavy Industries, Amau Electronics, and so on. My Economy was growing year-on-year, but it wasn't growing that much.
Once he'd heard that, Jarl Andrews began to negotiate harder. He was willing to cut down on the amount of investment in exchange for negotiating various licenses for GKT Enterprises at reduced rates. Notably, he wanted the license to produce some of our upgraded Dropships at the GKT Shipyards, and the license to produce Scorpion Twos, LRM Carrier Twos, and Sabre Twos at the Plants on Radsdadt. I offered him the licenses for the Achilles Two-Class Gunboats and the Fortress Two-Class Armed Transports at half cost and the licenses for the Sabre Twos and Scorpion Twos at three-quarters cost. That knocked the investment requirements down by half and netted me a cool eight-hundred-million C-Bills in licensing fees.
By the end of the negotiations, I could be assured that GKT Enterprises would be capable of producing some of my smaller Pocket WarShips and also produce a large amount of Combat Vehicles and Aerospace Fighters. I was saving the Mech Licenses for Swedenborg Heavy Industries, however. Still, this was more than enough to satisfy Jarl Andrews. He agreed to swing me his votes.
As I celebrated over a, frankly, fantastic steak, I realized that I was now one step closer to achieving my goal. Tomorrow, I would work on Hertig Fraga. Hopefully, if I could swing him, I could move on to Jarl Shor afterward, leaving Vévoda Kolowrat for last. If all went well, I would be able to cinch the required number of votes in a week, maybe a little longer.
Unfortunately, as I would find out later, while I had been making my moves, the Combine had been making moves of their own. I wouldn't realize it until the vote tomorrow, but they had been using middlemen to reach out to the voters whose votes were largely undecided.
When the Regentskapsråd met tomorrow, I would find out just how effective Theodore Kurita's tactics were compared to his father's. . .
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AN: All right, so here's the meeting with Jarl Andrews. I meant to get this out yesterday, but I had a bit of a family emergency to attend to. It's out now, though. Jarl Andrews appreciates forthrightness and a willingness to act honorably, as stated in his dossier. Jozef playing into that here helped him cinch the votes he needed from Jarl Andrews. Of course, having a lance of verifiable SLDF Vintage Highlanders as proof of his sincerity also went a long way.
Unfortunately, Theodore Kurita is a lot more willing to play this sort of game than Coordinator Takashi is, which means he's been making moves in the background as well to try and shore up support for his preferred candidate. You'll see what I mean next update.
At any rate, the next chapter will be the next meeting of the Regentskapsråd and Jozef finding out just how savvy his opposition is.
Stay tuned. . .
