Poking the Sleeping Bear with Sticks
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The executive desk of the Steward was a real sight to behold. Made of wood unlike any found in the Duxburian Union, its ornate face was covered with exquisite scenes drawn from thousands of years of Duxburian history. Nobody actually knew the desk's true provenance, but legend had it that only a supremely skilled woodmaster of Fremet could have pulled off such intricate art. Stewards, Aelirs, even mighty Grandmasters had all sat here, signing bills into law, holding meetings, and running the country.
Nobody sat here now. Erik Drammen, Master-General of State, slowly ran his fingers across the edge in reverence for the piece and what it represented. He looked in disgust at the stack of paperwork that sat untouched on top. He was emotionally and physically exhausted as the number 2 highest federal official, covering for the Steward's long absences and loss of interest in the mundane details of governing. The people were gradually waking up to the fact that the very top of the Duxburian federal government wasn't even functioning. Azrekko was in a state of economic collapse, the overall Duxburian economy continued to stagnate, foreign warships were raising tensions in a vital trade lane, and nothing had been done.
Sigh
Erik knew where to find the Steward. A hidden door behind a portrait led to a hallway where secret business was often conducted. He walked downstairs to the theater and heard voices. Yes, of course he was there. Federal agents guarding the door immediately recognized Erik and stepped aside for him to enter.
"Erik! Care to join us for the next race?"
Dante Maximillian was playing that NFT horse racing game again with a bunch of friends and lesser federal officials. This was how he loved to spend his time, gambling. The horse game was particularly intriguing and social.
"No thanks, Dante. I actually came to discuss the situation in the Red Strait. Can we talk in private outside?"
No one else could get away with calling the Steward plain old "Dante" - Erik couldn't be dismissed as Master-General by a Steward, he was appointed by an Aelir. The lack of formality made his power clear to the Steward - they were going to talk, it wasn't a question.
"Sure, give me a minute."
Dante stood up, put down his drink, handed over control to an aide, and followed Erik out the door. He looked annoyed, but remained polite given Erik's importance.
"What do you need concerning the strait? Ships? Missiles? What is happening there now?"
Of course, the Steward knew pretty much nothing about the situation...but it was Erik's duty to brief him anyway so he could consider Erik's request from a position of informed-ness.
"Spain claims the entire Red Strait, Yosai contests ownership. It's our position that they both own 10 or 12 nautical miles and nobody owns the middle. While they negotiate, warships from multiple countries have entered the strait. It's a tense and escalating situation that threatens the safety of Duxburian shipping in our busiest lanes. While we have a private assurance of shipping protection from the Spanish government, to use it requires diverting container ships along the Spanish coast, which will cause delays and disrupt port schedules. Istkalen has also stopped exporting cobalt and other minerals in protest, which will have huge negative fallout in Azrekko as they seek to build a massive solar project and as tech-heavy Verinteno Bay ramps up production of goods for the holiday shopping season. The double whammy of potential shipping disruption and loss of raw materials threatens the already fragile economy."
The Steward continued to listen.
"The situation must be handled carefully as we are in an awkward position where we disagree with our own treatied allies and that only grows worse as this progresses. I have the knowledge needed to handle this situation, but I need A0 level authorization. I can deal with everything and you can go back to Zed Run. It would be useful to have a standing A0 so we can respond quickly to future threats, but anything would work right now."
"Thanks for letting me know, I can give you that. These are the codes you need to use."
"Thank you for understanding."
They shook hands. Dante was eager to get back to his race and Erik returned upstairs. He had expected Dante to need more convincing to hand over that type of executive authority, but getting it easily wasn't terribly surprising given his constitutional rights as first in succession.
He thumbed through the codes, which included PALs. "What? The nuclear code is that?" Erik giggled out loud.
Wasting no more time, he symbolically stood at the Steward's desk rather than sit and dialed several phone numbers, twirling the seal of the Steward in his other hand.
