Episode 01: Welcome to the Future

Chapter 04

17 hours prior…

The trip down from the Platform into the Main Complex was uneventful, and oddly silent. Both Nations knew they'd have time to catch up after the meeting, and so kept their comments to themselves. Instead, they focused on their thoughts and the view.

The first hundred or so feet of Elevator Shaft B below the Platform was made of plexiglass, allowing its passengers to gaze out into the blue waters of the English Channel (significantly deeper due to the reappearance of Atlantis displacing ocean waters worldwide). After that, the elevator continued down through the ocean floor another hundred feet before at last reaching their desired floor. After that, they found their way fairly quickly through the maze of hallways to the designated meeting room, in which some of Sealand's highest ranked politicians sat waiting.

Silence reigned in the room for quite some time following Wy's report. This was the two hundred and first mission to fail in discovering France's whereabouts, and the hundred and ninety-sixth mission to fail in finding any of the Nations. By now, everyone in the room expected failure more than success, but it still came as a blow for such things to turn out to be true.

"Perhaps we should abandon Operation Marianne, and Albion by extension, to focus on other projects," Minister King suggested in the most sensible yet sympathetic tone she could muster. Still, Sea couldn't help feeling just a tad angry; they couldn't give up, not with so many questions left unanswered. He'd never been very close to France, but there'd been a short period just before the Cataclysm when the older Nation had taken him in as a protégé and taught him how to better annoy England (as well as flawlessly execute stealth missions). His brother had never known frustration until the two of them had teamed up against him. His brother…

"Perhaps you're right, Miriam," conceded Secretary Mehra. "We've searched up and down this side of Europe, and, though we've recovered the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, and the remains of Portugal, found no trace of France. Retrieving England is simply out of the question at this moment in time However, Eastern, Central, and Southern Europe have remained mostly unexplored. Empirically, the success rate in those regions is quite high, considering it only took two missions to secure Austria ninety years ago."

Clenching the arms of his chair, Sea had to force himself not to speak up. His position in these meetings was precarious. The Nation Recovery Project had begun from his insistence, and had grown under his supervision. Though he'd given up its leadership position almost a hundred years ago to become more personally involved in the missions (among other reasons), Sea still felt the NRP was his responsibility. Just as he felt it was his responsibility to ensure the safe recovery of his fellow Nations.

At the same time, he had a duty to his people and his government. Their interests had to come first else he couldn't even call himself the Nation of Sealand. Not only that, but he had a duty to uphold the monarchy, to represent his Prince and maintain peace and order. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.

Still, he couldn't just give up…not on France, or Western Europe, or even the world. Especially not on his brother…

But before he could even open his mouth, Wy was speaking up. "Need I remind you, Mrs. Mehra, that Austria's recovery involved the full permission and support of the NGR? To be quite honest, it was the Principality of Sealand that helped the NGR, and not the other way around. Not to mention that there is a significantly higher number of Austrian descendants Post-Apocalypse than there are Frenchmen and women. It's easier to find living Nations than dead ones, Portugal notwithstanding since she was recovered alongside Spain. The task we have taken up in Western Europe regarding the recovery of France is a much more difficult mission, empirically speaking, of course."

She paused for a breath. "And concerning the proposition to abandon one region for another, it cannot be overstated just how little we know about the link between a Nation and their people and lands. France may never regenerate without the presence of Francis Bonnefoy, and the innate information of the region he would possess would be invaluable, supposing he is still alive. As for opening up missions into more far reaching territories, I'm sure I needn't remind anyone present of the risk that would place on relations between the NGR and Sealand, assuming some of these new missions encroach upon NGR territory, which includes practically the entirety of Central Europe. We must be likewise careful with our neighbours the Wolfen Republic who may not appreciate us making repeated trips around the Mediterranean coast. And this all says nothing of the increased risk to personnel as they venture into less familiar territory."

Wy's speech effectively silenced all the officials in the room. She'd delivered her words seriously, but as she quickly turned to glance at Sea (who, admittedly, had been staring at her during her intellectual outburst), she flashed him a grin and a wink.

"We can't ignore these facts that Ms. Thompson has presented to us," Chancellor Vaughn stated in his deep, rumbling voice, classic for someone of some dwarven heritage. "It might be best to seek an answer in between. The latest expedition into France only just came back. Sending another immediately will not likely yield new results. However, the emissary from Triax is expected to arrive today to discuss new policies for co-operation. It's the perfect opportunity to bring up the possibility of extending our reach further into Europe. By the time a few missions into Continental Europe have begun and ended, it'll be time again to send another expedition into France." Secretary Mehra and Minister King nodded in polite agreement. The ever silent and enigmatic Secretary Grennen likewise nodded, though more curtly. It was never easy trying to figure out just what was going on inside a Dramin's head.

But there was still one more vote to be had. "What Dillan has suggested is quite pragmatic, and within Sealand's ability to achieve at the moment," Prince Christopher acknowledged. He might have been young (even amongst humans, twenty-three was not a long time), but he was just as well loved and respected for his wise choices as his kind heart. "Of course, we can't cement these plans yet. Without the NGR's permission, expeditions into the rest of Europe will not be possible. We can't sacrifice our good relations for this project alone." A round of nods passed through the room. "We will reconvene a week from today at the same hour to further discuss the future of the NRP. Any objections?" Neither hand nor voice was raised. "Excellent."

As Prince Christopher rose to his feet, so did every other person in the room, a sign of respect for their monarch. Opening the door to reveal the Guards posted outside, he called over his shoulder before exiting the room. "I will be expecting your presence on the helipad at 2 p.m. sharp, Mr. Kirkland. Do try not to assault the emissary this time."

After the Prince left, the other officials in the room gathered their belongings and, likewise, began exiting the room. Wy was prepared to follow this protocol before Sea groaned and flopped back in his chair, burying his face in his arms on the table. He proceeded to mumble something incoherent.

"What was that, Sea?" Wy asked good-naturedly, rearranging her flower scrunchie.

"Life sucks," he said loudly enough to be heard.

"Oh, come now. Just because you have to go greet the Germans doesn't mean you have to spend time with them. Chris knows better than to keep you locked up in a room for longer than a few hours."

"It's not that," Sea huffed. "These talks are going to be important for determining future relations with the NGR."

Wy waited as patiently as she could for him to continue. Unfortunately, patience was not her strong point. "So?"

"…Triax is going to be there."

"Ya think?"

"Chris practically said so. Triax is the only German I've punched in the face more than once."

Wy's expression translated to 'not impressed'. "You've punched Gilbert, acting as a peaceful delegate, more than once?"

"It's complicated," Sea mumbled, hiding his face in his arms again.

"Oh, I see how it is now," she piped up cheerfully. Wary, Sea lifted his head to look at her and raise an eyebrow questioningly. "You're always cranky before a spot of brekkie. Besides, I'm kinda peckish myself. And I wouldn't mind a shower after having spent two weeks sneaking around in the wilds." Grabbing his wrist in a merciless grip, Wy pulled Sea to his feet, towing him along as she made her way towards the mess hall. It took several seconds just to find his footing and a good pace to keep up with her. "And after that, you can take me shopping. I was thinking about getting a new pair of gloves. Ooo, maybe something red this time, with extra fireproof enchantments…"

It was going to be a long morning…

15 hours prior…

"They're…perfect!" squealed Wy, flexing her fingers. They'd been shopping for only twenty minutes when she had spotted the red leather fingerless gloves from a few stalls over. Among the enchantments that strengthened the gloves' durability and waterproof capabilities, they also happened to be minimally fireproof. She'd been sold before she'd even tried them on.

"How much?" she asked the stallminder, an elderly Wolfen lady who was clearly amused by Wy's antics.

"Forty credits, dearie."

Wy turned to Sea, hope in her eyes. He stared right back, not at all about to give in to her impulsive desires. "Use your own money, Wy."

"But, Seaaaaaaaa. I really, really want these gloves. I need these gloves."

"It's only forty credits," Sealand responded.

"Forty credits that I could spend on new clothes."

"Gloves are clothes."

"This is different. This is for combat." She grabbed his hand, as if it would help make her seem more convincing. "What if I get into a fight, and I get hurt because my gun gets knocked out of my hand by wearing the wrong gloves?"

He looked at her with a rather incredulous expression. They both knew that, gloves or no gloves, it was training that was going to get a person out of that situation. Wy wasn't relying in logic to get him to buy her the gloves; she was banking that his patience was even worse than hers. At least, he hoped that that was what she was doing. Did she know that he was maybe just a little, tiny bit not at all crazy in love with her, and so using his emotions to get him to buy things for her?

"Fine," he finally relented, covering up any trace of anxiety with annoyance. "I'll get you your stupid gloves."

"Yay! You're the best, Sea!" Wy exclaimed, tiptoeing to give him a quick peck on the cheek as he tapped his card against the scanner. He was lucky that she was already dancing away to look at another stall so as not to have to explain his blush. The elderly Wolfen gave him a knowing look as he thanked her and went to catch up with Wy.

The Marketplace was one of the most beautiful locations in Sealand. Though the more technologically-geared Shopping District had claimed one of the Domes (convex ceilings made of transparent glass facilitating a view of the underwater world just above Sealand's Main Complex), the Marketplace did far more to capture the imagination. As the magic centre of Sealand, the Marketplace was the place to go for enchanted items of all shapes and sorts.

Because of this, it had attracted all kinds of D-Bees and magic users, each bringing with them their own piece of home. Every stall was decorated in its own unique style. Splashes of every colour imaginable painted every possible surface. Music filled the air, the scents of a thousand different pastries competed for the wallets of hungry passers-by, and beings from nearly every era and dimension strolled the narrow avenues.

And all this activity buzzed just below the branches and among the roots of the six storey tall trees planted and nurtured by the Druids. The oldest of trees had tops that brushed the ceiling, intertwining with each other to create a canopy beneath the reinforced concrete enchanted to reflect the sky far, far above. It was nothing short of fantastical, like a bazaar straight out of a fairy-tale.

"So," Wy began after Sea had rejoined her. She was looking at a shelf of curiously titled books. "What's up between you and Gilbert?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope," she answered immediately, picking up a multicoloured glass orb. It was a magical item, but, unlike Sea, Wy could neither see nor sense it.

Sea sighed. "It has to do with the Bloody Campaign."

"The extermination of monsters that the NGR and Triax orchestrated, like, decades ago?"

"Yeah, that one. It was long before you arrived in Europe, so I don't expect you to know the details." She gently placed a book she'd picked up back on its shelf to look at him in all seriousness. He did his damndest to look anywhere but at her. "A couple hundred volunteers were sent to the continent. I was among them, but pretty soon after we got into the thick of it, I didn't want to be anymore." He paused, closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He could still hear the screams, smell the decaying bodies, see the innocent blood fly into the air. "The NGR, and Triax, their military branch, killed more than just monsters. They mowed down all the D-Bees they set their sights on. Man, woman, or child, it didn't matter if you didn't look human."

"That's…awful. Sea-"

"You don't need to apologize, Wy. You didn't start it, and I'd rather have more people know the truth than believe the lies. Anyways, that's what created the break between Gilbert and I. I know he's not the one who ordered me to shoot, but he didn't do anything to stop the slaughter. Hell, I could have turned around and taken everyone back with me, but I was worried the NGR would use it to declare war. I killed innocents to save my own people. We're equally guilty, in any case."

At that moment, Wy wanted nothing more than to hold and comfort her friend. She'd seen some shit herself trying to survive in what had become of Australia. But she'd never been in a war. There was something fundamentally different between killing someone to survive, and killing someone just because they're a different race or species with different ideas and beliefs, or worse, for politics. And not from your own free will, either.

Searching around, she found the perfect distraction to take this dark topic off both of their minds. "Hey, check out these neat dresses. Are these druidic patterns? Hmmm, do you think I'd look better in navy or green?"

Note: Dramins are a D-Bee race that appears physically like humans, but with very pale skin, dark hair, and eyes that are completely black.

Wolfen are also D-Bees. They resemble human-shaped wolves, similar to werewolves, but much less monstrous.