[u][b]The Republic of Halkirk[/b][/u]

The thin, wiry, old man sat behind a heavy dark wooden table in his office. The desk faced the door, and behind him there was a large window overlooking the main thoroughfare of the city of King's Port. Down the road the beautiful ocean could be seen, against the backdrop of a setting sun. His office was dark, a small gas light chandelier of magnificent elegance lit the room, hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room. 

The door in his front swung open, and a short, thin lady, with neck length auburn hair, wearing a dress shirt and an overcoat with a wide, poofy, flanged, but high wasited long length skirt, came through; closing the door quickly behind her.

"Prime Minister?"

The old man didn't even look up, or notice in anyway, his head was down, reading his papers, making notes, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath, cursing soem foreign nations policies, cursing some other trading company for stealing Islander business.

"Mr. Minister... Sir?"

The old man still didn't notice. She walked over, tapping him on the shoulder. He jumped, his small round spectacles fell from his face landing on the table.

"By God! Oh 'tis just you. My dear, what seems to be the matter?"

"A communication has just been delivered, came by telegraph, from our consulate in Azera, I've been told. You've been asked to come down to the conference room."

"Quite right, quite right," his quivering hand reached out and snatched up his spectacles, he folded them up and tucked them into the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Thank you my dear," he said, the two departed the room, into the next. She, took her seat at her desk in that room. He saw himself out of the office, buttoning up his jacket to look more professional as he strolled down the hallway towards the conference room. An attendant opened the door for him, and he entered. It seemed many of the ministers had gathered, some of the generals were there.

"What's all this about?" he asked, sitting himself at the head of the long, rectangular, dark wood, table. "I usually call the emergency meetings, someone explain please."

The rest of the ministers came towards the table, seating themselves in the chairs. They plopped their books, and reports, and files down on the table in front of them. A few o the generals unrolled a large map across the table quite near to the Prime Minister. 

His deputy PM took a seat immediately to his right. Joseph was a man much younger that Robert Archibald Cecil, the PM, but Robert had chosen him to be the deputy from the party. He liked his youthfulness, not just because Robert longed for teh days when his hand wouldn't shake, or when his ears could hear, or when his eyes could see (properly), but because he was a hard worker, an up and comer, with ideas that were new, and lofty goals, plans, ambitions. 

Joseph also answered Robert "It seem's like there is going to be a war, well at least one."

"More than one war, by God, it's been quite some time since we even had one war, now you're telling me there's going to be two."

Sir William Whitely, a decorated general answered now. "One of those wars isn't much of a concern. Those brute beasts that inhabit the middle of the continent, it would seem their neighbours have finally grown some... err... well... acquired some fortitude and determined to wipe those bumbling savages off the face of the earth. Normal wartime measures as per usual, sell arms to both sides, make money, keep everyone happy. Though, if the Steam Coalition get's involved we may have to [i]intervene[/i] in some way."

Robert replied, "Yes, balance of power and all that, can't have our rivals get too much of an edge. I wish those savage mainlanders would get over their barbaric, primitive impulses of holding a grudge. But this other war?"

The Minister of the Department of Commerce, Finance, Markets, and Labour spoke now:

"Sir, the Azerans, they have issued an embargo on the Stellata empire. So far, prices of goods there are rising, but its going to hurt their export markets. We trade with them, if their goods rise in price too much, it could be bad."

"Does the open market now yet?" replied Robert.

"No but tomorrow morning the paper's will run the story. This is sir, as you must know, very unsettling. One nation unilaterally embargoing another, especially given our position as a largely mercantile based society. The generals have advised me, to advise the Merchant Marine to keep our ships sailing. Essentially I've been advised to break the embargo status. I'm afraid that this could have consequences from the Azerans. Primarily, we have some thousand or so merchant sailors currently in Azera, and a number of ships passing through their waters, slated to pass through their waters, or on route for market purposes to Azera. Azera may impound our ships, sailors, and seize our cargo. The military has assured, including Sir Whitely who is present, that we are currently dispatching components from Naval Group Northerland and Group Centre to defend our shipping interests. This leaves perhaps a week gap in the timeline where Azera could impound, detain or seize cargo."

"How should we respond to such an event Sir Whitely?" asked Robert.

"If Azera detains, impound or seizes cargo, we shouldn't consider it an act of war. On the presumption that they release our sailors, vessels and cargo within a time frame of three days. Otherwise, we will be forced to use military force to engage the enemy. We can win on the sea, but the Azeran Air Force is from what knowledge we have of it, extensive. It will be hard fight. Which is why myself, and the other's at Central Command don't believe the Azerans will do something so drastic. Stopping our shipping interests in Stellata to precipitate a war that will cost them, as well as us, dearly in men, material and money. They've got enough of a fight on their hands should the Stellatans escalate, or if the conflict escalates for any other reason."

"So we tow the status quo then? Do nothing, good sirs, I believe it is in our very interest to show the Azerans that a unilateral embargo against a nation will not be tolerated. Such a thing, considering our position, it's intolerable." Robert replied back, with venom in his voice.

"Robert, my friend," replied Whitely, "we fought together against those Coalition primitives many years ago, I would not lead you astray, but escalating to a war, when so far nothing has been done directly to us is frankly a bad play. The Minister of the Department of Commerce has said there is one option we can take. Go ahead Mr. Minister."

The Minister spoke: "As part of the Emerald Bank of Berwick's policy of promoting international trade, we've maintained large quantities of foreign currency in assets, mainly of bills of purchase not physical, at the bank. This was intended to be part of our policy of controlling currency parity round the world, in an attempt to keep our currency at a suitable level where our purchasing piwer was high enough to get goods at reasonable deals, but low enough to not stifle our exports. Now, what we could do is sell our reserves of Azeran Plectars and drive the price of their currency down. Such an action would decrease their purchasing power, and hamper their ability to purchase on international markets. Essentially they would have to spend more to buy things, and other nations would spend less to buy more Azeran goods. Markets are fickle sir, but the logic is sound. We could try to devalue their currency, supposing we make a significant impact, the Azerans might be pacified. Even an announcement of such an action, could cause international financiers to lose some faith in the Plectar."

Robert sat back in his chair, he scratched his semi-bald head, and played with his grey-white hair (or at least what little their was of it) before responding.

"We've to make some sort of action. Announce a selling of our reserve foreign currency assets tomorrow, but do not actually sell yet. Right now, dispatch a telegraph to our consulate in Azera. Tell our diplomatic corps there to initiate a dialogue with Azerans with the intention of resolving this situation. Most importantly I feel we need to speak directly with the Azeran leadership."

Around the table there was a mumbling of approval, and the meeting was over.