A Battle Unseen

[Doc]

Personal Office of Her Imperial Majesty, Wilson House, Kaliburg
Thursday, 10 am

"Your Imperial Highness, The Foreign Minister is here," said Chancellor Bolton who was sitting at one of the two chairs in front of her desk.  The Empress looked up briefly from her papers and pressed a button that signaled to the Chamberlain to send the Foreign Minister in.  The bell chimed, and the door opened, and The Foreign Minister entered the office, making sure the door closed behind him.  He stood before the Empress, head politely bowed, and the Chancellor said "Please be seated, Sir Bjorksdattir."  The Foreign Minister sat:  this had the air of a formal audience.

"May I know why Her Imperial Majesty has called me down here from the Foreign Ministry?" said the veteran Foreign Minister.

"Sir," began Dame Bolton.  "You have been called in because we need to begin preparing a response to the Solentian situation.  Our friends in Lodamun are spinning up some off the books stuff out there and we need to be prepared to issue Her Imperial Majesty's response should any of that become public, which is strict public neutrality, while supporting Lodamun however we can in that situation."

"That seems like IBSI stuff, Dame Bolton," said Sir Bjorksdattir.  "The Foreign Ministry doesn't usually handle the covert part of..."

"There is no time for this, Sir Bjorksdattir," said the Chancellor.  "You were called in here because Her Imperial Majesty would like you to handle the Betchel thing..."

The Foreign Minister seemed confused.  "What... 'Betchel thing'?" he asked.

"Dr. Betchel should not be making any more public statements.  They are unnecessarily complicating things," said the Chancellor.

"So what would Her Imperial Majesty have me do about Dr. Betchel?"

"He's your friend, and he was your number 2 at the ministry," said the Chancellor.  "Please go talk to him and tell him, politely, to stop sending letters to the Editor of The Republic.  Because they will print them, and we need to be focused on something far more important now than a tit for tat with a country like Likatonia."

"Madame, I can't just tell him to not write letters," said Sir Bjorksdattir.  "He is a private citizen now, he's retired.  He can do as he pleases."

"There is no time for that now, Sir Christopher.  You can, because your Empress asks you to do it," said the Chancellor.

"I can't," said the Foreign Minister.

"You will, Sir Bjorksdattir," said the Chancellor.
 
"Your Imperial Majesty, you cannot ask this of me.  It is a breech of our norms for me to effectively silence a citizen of this country, a person who has decades of foreign policy experience, a person who is completely correct by the way, and a person who I count as a very dear friend of mine."

"Sir Bjorksdattir,  mind the Protocol," warned the Chancellor, with authority in her voice.  "You are the Minister of Foreign Affairs.  You are a Knight Companion of the Order of the Gray Smoke.  You can and you will do as your Empress asks."

The Foreign Minister sat silent for a moment.  "Then I resign," he finally said with clearly wavering resolve.

"Excuse me?" said the Chancellor.

"I resign my office as Foreign Minister," said Sir Bjorksdattir.

"Sir Christopher.  You serve at the pleasure of Her Imperial Majesty," reminded the Chancellor.

"No, I resign from the Foreign Ministry.  I can't in good conscience..." he began.

"Sir Bjorksdattir, there is... no time for any of that..."

"I resign, I cannot..."

"Sir Bjorksdattir," said the Empress finally.  "The Chancellor said that there is no time."  Her voice was authoritative, and descended like a thunderclap, stunning Sir Christopher into silence.

"Christopher, you are my friend," said Dame Bolton, after a few seconds.  "We have seen a lot together.  Her Imperial Majesty trusts you, and has defended you when I told her that I think you should be fired over that Betchel letter.  She said that we will need all the experience and skill that you bring to the table.  And her argument was persuasive.  Now please, obey your conscience, but speak to your friend.  Likatonia is a distraction--they can't even properly spell our nation's name in their own newspaper.  That's all it is, that's all it ever has been.  Her Imperial Majesty needs to focus now, and move on from that distraction.  So please.  Your Empress has asked you to do your duty.  Stay with your principles but she has asked that you to speak with Dr. Betchel.  If you explain that it has come from Her, he will understand."

"But Diane," said the Foreign Minister, "He's right..."

"Sometimes, we say things that are right, but are... impolitic..." said the Chancellor, measuring her words.  "Likatonia is nothing to Kalistan any longer.  We have much bigger fish to fry now.  Do you follow?"

Sir Christopher inhaled sharply, sat up straighter, and spoke to the Chancellor, "Dame Bolton, Please inform Her Imperial Majesty that I will do my Duty, as... requested."

Dame Bolton smiled sympathetically, knowing how hard it was for the Foreign Minister to say those words.  "She knows you will."  With that, Sir Bjorksdattir stood, bowed slightly to the Empress, and backed away until arriving at the door. 

"And Sir Christopher," said the Empress.  "Let's not have any more of this talk about resigning, if you please."  Sir Bjorksdattir nodded slightly as a chime caused the door to open, and nobody said any more words until it was closed again.