The Democratika

Full Version: A Modest Public Consecration of An Alliance most Natural & Unholy
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Thüle harbour, thüle, edofasia

25 Martius 1968 | 18:32 ect

               The slender black conning tower of the submarine sliced through the water as the hull rose up to the surface, water running down its sides as it touched air once more. Inside her hull the crew were bustling, as always, walking up and down the ships passages as they prepared to present themselves formally to the harbor on their arrival. While the officers and enlisted carried out their duty of making themselves presentable and also getting the boat into the harbor, a single man sat in the wardroom. He himself sat dressed in an officer’s uniform, each button polished to the appropriate immaculate shine.
 
               His hands were held together against his face as his gaze went between the documents laid out before him and the artefacts mounted on the walls around him. The plaque read the ships name, HMS Terra and commissioning date, half a decade past. A great deal had happened since. Upon the walls were three flags: the Imperial Flag of Cenaesia, a black jolly roger with three patches representing ships sewn onto it, and an Edofasian flag from the height of the second crisis.
 
               The door swung inward, jogging the man out of his thoughts. Another officer stepped in, his sleeves having two thin bars embroidered upon them. His face too was as youthful as his lack of bars. But his uniform too was impeccably shinned, an almost fresh out of the box look to it. The insignia on his chest betrayed his status though, as it had not dolphins pinned but a simple onyx black phoenix in its place.
              
               “Vice Admiral, the harbor guide has come aboard. The captain has invited you above deck.” The young intelligence officer stated, still hanging in the doors threshold as he awaited a response. Behind him an enlisted pressed himself against the far side of the corridor in order to get past.
              
               “Please inform him that I shall join him eminently. “The man stated after a moment of pondering. “Another point, Lieutenant. Do strive to avoid blocking the ships passage in the future.”  He said with a smile, waving him off.
 
               “Aye sir, I shall endeavor to do so Vice Admiral Faustus.” He said, pulling the door closed before bounding away towards the conning tower. The vice admiral chuckled to himself as he pulled the documents splayed before him together once more and into a folder.
 
               He rose slowly, stretching before reaching back down for the folder of documents and the leather briefcase beside him. A few moments and audible clicks later and the folder disappeared into the briefcase, itself becoming handcuffed to the Vice Admirals hand. He flicked his wrist towards him, checking the time once more. A sigh and he departed towards the door. 

The deck of the submarine had its sailors on display, lined up next to each other with hands behind their backs while wearing their casual dress uniforms. Faustus looked down on them from his position in the conning tower, before looking out at the harbor itself. Their arrival was planned, but evidently low-key as the workers along the docks glanced up in curiosity for a few moments before resuming their work. They lacked the luxury of free time while on the clock, a modest price to pay for the essentials provided by the government for ‘free’.
 
Nonetheless, as the submarine sliced along the surface of the harbor waters into the guarded military piers of the harbor there was a modest contingent of officers and enlisted Edofasian sailors awaiting them at the pier which the military harbor pilot navigated them towards. Faustus scanned his eyes over the assembled men as they drew closer, a slim smirk on his face as he separated the true naval men from the security bureau based on the ways they examined their surroundings.
 
When the gangplank was finally dropped onto the submarine, and the mooring lines secured Faustus was the first to cross it. He offered a simple salute to the counterpart who had walked closer to greet him. “Dia duit comrádaí.” He stated, giving a once over to the black peacoat which the Edofasian officer wore to guard against the ever-present chill of the northern early spring. The coats black buttons were embossed with a simple eagle crossed by a hammer.
 
“Welcome to Thüle, Vice Admiral.” His counter part stated, reaching out a black gloved hand, his eyes peaking out from under the glossy black brim of his white cap. “I am commissar Mac Niadh. The cars for you and your entourage are waiting for us. Accommodations for the crew ashore have also been made.”
 
Faustus pushed a politician’s smile onto his face, though not entirely ungenuine, “How generous of the Edofasian people, the men will be most appreciative of the chance for fresh air.” He said before making a slight jerk of his head back towards the submarine, “tagann an mac tíre abhaile chun sosa.” He stated with a wolfish grin.
 
The commissar smiled back, “Si vis pacem fac bellum.”