[i][u]June 4th, 1960[/u] Krung Thep, People's Republic of Thailand [/i] --- It was not a usual custom of Grand Premier Thornthep Radchawat to attend Buddhist ceremonies, let alone funerals. He had eschewed religion at age fifteen, and his beliefs were validated by his fellow Khana Rhatsadon at age eighteen. He saw no use in contemplating the afterlife when a man could do good in his lifetime now. However, it [i]was[/i] the dying wish of his dear beloved aunt that she be honored with such formalities, and somehow he found comfort in the dulling chants of the fervent monk, and in the lilting scent of the incense that permeated the room. They drove back to the Revolutionary Palace in a thoughtful silence. Radchawat’s wife, who was a dear friend of his aunt, laid her head on his shoulder and grasped his arms tightly with white satin gloves. For a while, Radchawat contemplated his brief memories with his aunt, but by the time the driver pulled up to the gates of the Palace had already taken on a much more different state of mind. An eager young soldier ran up to the couple, dressed in a drab olive uniform and with a submachine gun swinging from his hips. “Grand Premier!” “Please, comrade.” Radchawat slowly looked up. “Can’t you see we are mourning?” The young man gulped and adjusted his red-badged collar. “Premier, the Minister of War wishes to see you.” Radchawat met Minister of War Thanee Souvanatong at his private office. The hulking wall of a man was clad with a multitude of medals such that made his chest indistinguishable from a Christmas tree, all earned from the 1921 revolution and the 1949 Cambodian War. He was upright and red-faced as always, his greying mustache sprinkled with cigarette ash. “Premier, it is time we talked.” “So it is.” Radchawat leant back on his tall leather chair and crossed his arms. “Lady Trung has been betrayed by imperialists.” “So she has.” “This is not new news, Premier.” “No, it isn’t.” “Premier, do you understand the gravity of the situation?!” Souvanatong slammed Radchawat’s desk, blood rushing to his head and staining his mottled cheeks. “If we allow this to continue, we will have a capitalist Vietnam for a neighbor!” “That is what we said eleven years ago, when we invaded Cambodia.” “Cambodia was a success!” “Do you call the loss of eight hundred soldiers, two thousand Cambodian civilians, and millions of baht a success? Thailand is weary of war, Minister. Our people must rest, and our nation must take a different path now.” Radchawat tilted his head. “Or would you have us tread the path of our colonizers before?” “Premier, premier…” Souvanatong huffed and blustered, inflating his cheeks to a fiery crimson. “You don’t understand how easy this war will be. China, owner of one of the greatest armies in the world, supplies our arms. The Philippines is already a major player in the game. Iron and chromium deals are mere days away!” But then in a sudden and stunning show of humility, the Minister stood up straight, pressed his palms together and bowed deeply. Radchawat raised a brow - it was unusual for this blustering mountain of a man, and a devoted communist at that, to make the traditional [i]wai[/i]. “Premier, please let me send a delegation to Hanoi.” Radchawat sighed. “Yes, you may.” He shrugged. “Though there has not yet been an official decision, I sense the intentions of the People’s Congress. There is nothing I can do about it.” Radchawat finally stood up, a dusty creak emanating from underneath his seat. “Don’t seek sea passage, you will either be shot at by Sulu pirates or the French. Take a plane, and travel northwards first - I don't think we need to intrude onto Laotian airspace." The Premier bowed deeply, returning the [i]wai[/i]. “Thank you, Thanee.” “Thank you, Premier.” As Minister Souvanatong turned to exit, Thanee called out to him. “Minister?” “Yes, Premier?” “You get Thailand concessions, or you get that delegation home.”