[@Yam I Am]

[h2]Nanjing[/h2]

	Inside the presidential palace the air was cool. Fans spun from the ceiling, turning the stuffy air in the conference room. Gray light broke through the windows, freckles of loose rain pattering against the window panes as outside the low roof tops of Nanjing lay in repose in a silver veil of spring mist. Standing at six stories, the morning sun yellow of the concrete presidential palace was once the tallest structure in Nanjing, although it was slowly becoming matched and exceeded as the capital of the Republic expanded and grew under the shifting weight of change in China. Barely visible in the spring drizzle the shapes of public housing and offices rose like saplings from the field of old urban sprawl throughout the city. The rising pillars of smoke stacks from power plants and factories all the more distant, and scientifically elegant. The office was even being dwarfed by the not even half-decade old Federal University of China's student faculty building. But despite its retreating physical dominance the comparatively infant seat of Chinese government had one that that kept it flying far and ahead, in the clouds: its political power.

	A sprawling complex, the palace was nested over the grave site of the palace of the Heavenly Kingdom of Taiping, the rebellious Christian adventure that had burned and pillaged against the ailing Qing Empire from this city. Although destroyed when the Qing might came to bare against Hong Xiuquan parts of the old palace remained as an indelible mark on the land and a scar. A permanent growth on the body that could not be removed that became incorporated into the new world and stood alongside it. The palatial complex with its gardens and offices creating a libidinal space in time and place where all China drained into. It was where at the beginning of the day an official for the Control Yuan could walk under a Christian gate, passed Qing temples across stones first lain by Mind princes to arrive at an office erected by a government official in the early Republic after he had made a trip to Europe and sought to model their office in the style of the French or the Italian. Or an official working for the Examination Yuan might make the same trip to a corner by the Xu Garden, where Han princes once reposed by serene waters.

	And all of this might be seen from the high windows of the great modern, golden-yellow center of the Executive Yuan and the presidency. Modern and sleek. Ornamented in ribbons of carved relief of men and women depicting scenes of the Xinhai revolution in sharp geometric proportion. Of miniature scenes of what a republic is, and the virtues of good governance. A piece of pre-Great War Paris lifted up from old Europe and planted down in China, embellished with Chinese character and set free to extend its reach to whichever wind politics blew.

	“Attached with this request is our usual trade envoy invoice, of which our agreements you will find are standard faire. Have you any concerns or objections to our entreaties, please respond at your earliest convenience.” read Xiu Lu, the minister of foreign affairs.

	Standing at an unimpressive hundred-sixty centimeters the impish and meager Xiu Lu wasn't an impressive character. Tall of brow, with thin wiry hair combed haphazardly over his head, he had a pale and loose complexion susceptible to spots and marked by ring-worm scars; he often wore a hat to hide it. His nose was stout and pressed, more so by how it had been broken and his eyes sagged and flesh around the eyes strange and dark. He spoke in a reedy harsh voice, which made it hard for him to be a diplomat though he had a sharp knowledge of other people and long had dealings with other nations as a businessman who was often on missions abroad to scrounge up finances for the young Republic. It rarely shown through, and he often acted through junior officers and colleagues whether to deal with the Chinese public or foreign nations; for he pretended not to be embarrassed by himself but he very much was. When dealing with the world at large, he was known for his excuses  as to why he couldn't be there. He emerged only for small affairs.

	“It's a fairly standard sounding request.” TV Soong remarked, lounging in his recliner. Its leather was thick with cushion and the stiff puckered vice-president appeared to sick into it, with his hands wrapped loosely in front of him. He adjusted his glasses with a move of his cheeks and carried on, “I don't see any reason why the government should deny it.”

	“Communist bastards.” growled Li Su however, himself reclined in a similar chair. All of them had a pattern like orchids. Dull golden flowers flowing over earthy red leather. Their movement across the chairs regular. Su's old paternal weight fighting the chair as much as it fought to absorb him. He not so much as sat in the chair however, but lay. His arms relaxed bored to the side, one hand raised as he rubbed the fingers together impatiently.

	“I share the feeling but I don't think we should bar this request,” Xiu Lu remarked, “as revolutionary as they are, Germany has been a remarkable ally since our own Revolution. If it were anyone else, I would bar them from our ports.”

	“I disagree.” a grudging voice said. Dressed in a suit, a rather tall man leaned forward in his chair. Wearing a martial brow and eyes the glared stirnly and sought out the heart in all things so he might kill it was Minister of the Armed Forces Yuan Hu Shi. A former field marshal, he was a contemporary to Li Su but unlike him he had not retired from the military after the war and continued on in service. He was only recently compelled to quit the service in order to accept a post within the Executive Yuan. He was broad faced and broad shouldered. In the worst of times when or if he grew a beard he looked like a lion, a god of war. But in these times of cleanliness that only sign of this were his heavy eyebrows that dominated and shadowed his face, appearing as if quickly slashed on him with heavy brush strokes. “The geopolitical situation with Japan, as mentioned in the telegram makes this a strategically tenuous move. May I remind the general staff here that we do not have a navy to fight the Imperial Japanese navy? We may be able to relay on the Germans and any allies in a renewed war against the Japanese for naval victories, but it would be at the risk of placing potentially dangerous allies too close to home. The Germans are only reliable so long as they are in Europe, where we they can be leaned on to threaten the French, should they attempt to strengthen their position in Indochina. I believe this is still the imperative. Any presence of the Germany navy near or in our waters would be a violation of the balance of power.”

	“I don't think believing the Japanese are a threat anymore is a good idea anymore.” chimed in a third minister, the Minister of Economic Development. The indifferent Robert Cao, a Hong Konger by birth. His Cantonese accent blended with something of a colonial British compliment. Also going by Chau Ming Gwan. His narrow set face twisted in thought. He rose his eyes to the white ceiling and said thoughtfully, “The Japanese are engaged on two fronts. They're prodding the Russian coast and are engaged with the Dutch and the British in the south. My people say they're an Empire stretched to the breaking point. They're at the end of their era if they can't find substantial allies elsewhere. So there is really no harm in letting the Germans in. Much do respect to you field marshal, but even if German presence did drag the Japanese into renewed hostilities against us the apparent fragility of their states means we could let our allies take the blow and land ourselves on Japan. If we had any fear of the Japanese home islands being any puppet to western forces that can threaten us, we negate that.”

	“I see your point.” Hu Shi said, “But I still all the same urge caution. Enough so to tell them no. The Communist Party has been very active this past year. So Japan aside it's important that for the safety of the Republic we limit any chance that the can collaborate with the party of Tsai-Tang.”

	“We'd be sacrificing hundreds of millions of Yuan for that!” Robert Cao protested.

	“I agree.” Xiu Lu said, TV Soong nodded along.

	“The costs would be too great to not let them continue.” the vice-president added.

	“And how would we stop them from interfering?” Li Su asked, throwing barbs to Soong, “You're usual efforts to keep them checked haven't so far worked.

	“I realize that, but there's more to all this than electoral gamesmanship. As Cao brings up: ther Germans are worth a lot of money to the economy. We can't cut them out.”

	“Damn if I didn't know that, but this is principles!” Li Su said in a raised voice. Not quiet shouting.

	“God damn it, what principles!” Soong replied, slamming down his fist for emphasis against the side of the chair.

	“The security of the state!”

	“This is too far in abstraction, and bordering petty.” Xiu Lu sighed, folding the copy of the telegram for his pocket. He rose from the half seated position he had taken after reading out the telegram to the assembled executive council and walked to the window. “If you do consider declining this 'on principle' I will have to consider a protest.”

	“There'll be no protest from the Executive Council.”

	Xiu Lu looked to Soong, asking with his impatient expression if the vice-president had his back. Soong nodded and the two shifted to Robet Cao, “I give my ascent. This is something that trumps security. It's too valuable.”

	Li Su grumbled under his breath. He briefly considered bringing the rest of the ministers in to offer their piece. But this point, it would be too much. He recognized his defeat and rose from his chair, “Then fine. Send a response to the Germany embassy. They have our permission. Now I need to see a man about an oil pipeline.”