#advisor lady

[civilizedcompany]

Civ VI for Nintendo Switch. Now you can fulfill your dream of Gandhi nuking your ass on the go.

[civilizedcompany]

Civilized Secrets Chp. 6

A New Divide

“But-I-Are you sure they'll even believe you?”  asked a concerned Theodore as he kept the pace with a bloodied Seondeok.  Her finery was torn, covered in muck, and smelt of salt water; her skin littered with cuts and bruises.  “Everything thing that Saladin found regarding Sejong's project was vague at best.  Even if they did believe you, there's nothing stopping the others from trying to finish us off anyways.”

“I'd like to think my injuries would be enough proof.  If not, Gitarja's absence is powerful enough,” Seondeok replied bitterly as she wrapped a bandage around her forearm.

“You think this has a chance of working?  That they'll hear you out about Sejong?”

“We're not trying to convince the bloodthirsty, we're trying to convince the undecided but reasonable.”

“From our camp, or their's?”

“Both.”

“They'll want surrender and Catherine's head on a pike.”

“A surrender? When one of theirs is the guilty one?  No.  Having Catherine end up on Boudica's wall?  It matters not to me anymore.”

“What?!”

“How else do you think Napoleon found us, Roosevelt? A lucky guess?”  asked the Korean Queen angrily.  “Sejong would never allow Napoleon to willingly stay near his palace, alliance or not.  They knew we were coming.  There were only a few people who knew we had left besides you and Poundmaker.  Saladin and Robert have no motive. Catherine does.  Napoleon's navy has blockaded her ports, and...” she drifted off, her voice wavering and her mind contemplating.  A small bout of silence passes between them.

“Seondeok?”

She finally works up the nerve to continue, “And while I can't blame her for not wanting her people to starve, I'm also not going to forget that she stabbed us in the back. This goes beyond espionage and 'knowing too much', she betrayed the people who wanted to help her.   Come to terms with her death now, Theodore.  Her blood will paint the heavens, just as our blood has soaked the earth.”

Seondeok turned away from the President, leaving him to his own thoughts, be they grief or despair.  It was times like this she wished that she wasn't plagued by the truth of her visions.  But a harsh truth, in this case, would be better than a comforting lie.

--------------------------

The meeting hall, a place full of spirited debate amongst leaders fighting for the benefit of their people, where plans and courses of action were voted upon, where the future looked vast and open, looked more like a tattered ruin of its former glory.    Though the emergency session was a few minutes out from starting, the leaders chose to congregate inside the hall, half out of safety and half out of wanting to see who remained alive.  For now, at least.  No one sat in their assigned areas (what was the point anymore?), but none dared touch the holes left behind by the fallen.  Chairs and tables were empty, save a single, unlit candle that graced the surface, a small memorial to those immortality came to an end.  An eerie cloud of anxiety lingered in the room, as if the end times had arrived and the survivors banded together for one last time before dying quietly in the night.  And though there was much to be chattering about, the hall was silent, save a few private conversations.

“Still no word?”  the pregnant Scythian asked.  Tomyris placed a hand on Hojo's shoulder and squeezed it gently.  The weight of the war had taken its toll on the fully armored Shikken, a once youthful looking man who now looked a decade older.  His eyes were darkened by the lack of sleep, his back sore and stiff from wearing his armor constantly, and his face and hands covered in deep cuts and scars. Rather than answer, he place an arm around her and hugged her tightly, though not breaking is endless stare out into the nothing. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend the level of devastation in the other theaters of war.  She hugged him and kissed his cheek, unsure of what to do next.

Elsewhere in the hall were Trajan and Gorgo, swapping reports of the front line.  Poundmaker had his guitar out and strummed softly, not paying attention to the small group, including Victoria and Alexander, that he had amassed.  Theodore helped an injured Seondeok sit down, the pain finally kicking in.  She locked eyes with Catherine, who was half surprised at her survival.  Jadwiga tearfully laid down a small rosary on Philip's desk, and Genghis quietly placed a candle on Chandragupta's table as he walked through the door.  Twelve, possibly thirteen, of them, gone.  As the back door reserved for governors opened, only Helena emerged, donned in a visible bulletproof vest and covered in blood.  What should have been a horrific sight was only met with a few glances. Just seven more names to add to the growing list.  She looked around at the sorry sight before her, knowing that this was the best that they were going to have.

“I think it's safe to say that no one else is coming,” Helena bluntly stated as she laid down her pistol.  She pulled a roll of bandages and a switchblade out of her pocket and began treating her wounds.  “Who's starting?  We don't have time for the ceremonial bullshit this go around.”

Poundmaker stopped playing and stood up, “I will.”

“Proceed,” she replied with a mouthful switchblade handle in her mouth.  The once poised advisor was now almost unrecognizable to the chieftain.  Her arm was red and sticky with blood; her hands covered in dirt, grime, and gauze.  Poundmaker motioned to Seondeok, who struggled to rise even with Teddy's help.  But just as Seondeok was about to impart her recently acquired knowledge, the troubled Shikken was about to receive some of his own.  A dim glow caught his eye, and though he knew not was sent to him, Tokimune couldn't help but fear the worse.  The words of the Seondeok became formless white noise. Nothing matter to him at this point.

A confirmation of the inevitable, and yet there was a piece of him that had held onto hope.  He felt it die as he read the message over and over.  We found them...I'm so sorry...We found them...I'm so...

He wanted to scream, to flip a table, to ram his blade through the heart of Oda, to recreate every lash and puncture upon his foes that was done to his family.  He wanted to lay waste to every enemy in his path, to burn it all (whatever it was, he did not know) to the ground, to take every last bit of rage and pour it into one final blaze of glory (whatever that was, he did not know either).  Tomyris, out of concern (possibly out of fear), returned her hand to his and squeezed tightly.  The warmth of her touch jolted him back to reality and his eyes met hers, explaining everything without saying a word.  

He sighed quietly as he accepted the hard truth:  his people needed a man will an iron will, not a reckless young lord guided by vengeance.  Oda, for now, was safe.

He placed his phone aside, hoping he did the right thing for his people and returned his attention to the meeting at hand.  Tomyris gave his hand one last squeeze, leaving him to wonder how he got so lucky.

“Look, all I'm saying is that this can be resolved peacefully.”

“So what are you proposing, Poundmaker?”  the Roman asked.  “And how do you think you can convince them all?”

“As much as I hate to say this, Catherine has a point...” Poundmaker conceded, leaving Catherine, and a few of the others, in shock.  “But only to an extent.”  Ah, there we go.

“Speak plainly, friend.  My men can only take so much more before they break.”

“Catherine's plan to divide them isn't necessarily wrong or far-fetched.  First, we call for a cease-fire, then call for Sejong to be held accountable for his role in all of this—remember, if it weren't for the AI, no one would ever know about all of Catherine's data—and then, since we can't expect something for nothing with them, we offer our terms... an offer they'd be foolish to refuse,” Poundmaker finished uneasily, causing Helena to perk up.  When has he ever been this uneasy coming up with a plan?

“And what exactly are 'our terms', dear chieftain?”  Catherine prodded, half afraid of the answer she would get.

------------------------------

“That's insane!”  declared Attila angrily, “We don't need to compromise anything to them.  They're on the run, this is our chance--”

“I will NOT send any more of my people to feed YOUR bloodlust, Attila, especially when we have a chance to end this peacefully,” Pochello seethed at the warlord.  “Too many have died in this fight—Sejong has agreed to abdicating completely and ceding all control to Seondeok!  He's accepted his role in this--!”

------------------------------

“And what of me?  What of my people?  Is Napoleon really a better option than me?  Could you honestly trust a man like that?” asked Catherine as she berated at the chieftain.  Gorgo rolled her eyes.

“At least he's a terrible snoop and a horrible liar.  It would be a welcomed change to dealing with someone that's predictable,” remarked the Spartan Queen.  Catherine slightly glared at her before continuing.

“This is all Sejong's fault.  I fail to see how these 'terms' favor are fair in the slightest--”

------------------------------

“The terms are fair, Maria, because both had a hand in all of this!”  Washington shouted back at the monarch.  “Is your country's soil not soaked with enough blood?”

“They'll never accept it!  They'll want revenge against us.  Catherine will want her throne back and she'll get the support by any means necessary.  We have to finish her and the lot of them off now, while we still have the chance!”  concluded Napoleon.

“Why not have both of their heads and then call it even?  Hard to complain or fight to reclaim your throne when you're dead,” remarked Dido causally.

“I agree.  What is one more, or even two more bodies to add to the pyre?” questioned Harald.  “I mean, we do want the terms to be fair after all...”

---------------------------------------

“Alexander! You cannot mean such a thing!” Saladin exclaimed, taken aback by the harshness of his words.  Even for him, he couldn't believe it.  “Abdication is enough, spilling the blood of kings--”

“--Is more than justified in this matter,” finished Barbossa.  “They attacked us first! They demanded Catherine first! Well, they can have her then, but we will collect the blood price that Sejong is responsible for, and he is responsible for it.”  The two kings glared at one another, refusing to back down, just as they always did.

“You're all missing the big picture—That AI is still on the loose!  We don't know where it is, or even how to shut it down.  And what if it's watching us right now?  Waiting to see what we'll do? Planning what it will do next in response?  We don't know its full capabilities--” President Roosevelt tried to explain before being unceremoniously interrupted.

“Then the AI will die with him.  It matters not to the Zulu if our enemy is man or machine,”  Shaka replied.  “Better yet, he thinks it a son, no?  He shall watch as his 'son' dies.  Sejong seems willing to die enough; I can't think of a more fitting end.”

------------------------------------------

“Have you gone mad?  Nevermind, Nebuchadnezzar, what am I saying?”  Theodora mused.  “Of course you've gone mad—you've been insane for as long as anyone can remember!”

------------------------------------------

“Is it mad to speak the truth?”

------------------------------------------

“What truth?  I only hear delusion!”

------------------------------------------

The shouting continued to rage on, with the voices blending into a cacophonous mess.  Both sides were on the verge of total anarchy, as leaders ganged up on each other, sizing themselves up, coming just short of physical blows.  Yet, for all of the chaos, there was a still peace that existed, even if it was miles away from them.  Not a soul stirred near the console, as its engine hummed in isolation. The solution was simple, yet Misu could not bring himself to do it. As to why that was, the answer eluded him.  These “leaders” gave him plenty of reason to unleash a wrath comparable to the finger of God.  But, he reasoned, maybe I should give them five more minutes. Maybe that will--

Hold on.

What is this?

As if on cue, Hojo Tokimune and Oda arose from their seats and brought the shouting to a screeching halt. Both devoid of expression, as if they knew they were entering a fight they would not be able to walk away from alive and accepting of the consequences.  Another unforeseen variable in a grand experiment.

“Even after everything we've been through, our people slaughtered, our homes destroyed, our cities razed...Our answer is arguing?” the Shikken asked, his voice carrying a quiet intensity that caught his fellow leaders off guard.  Misu's attention darted to Oda.

“Did not the heavens ordain us to lead our people to greatness? To guide them through times of darkness?  To be the hand that wields the blade to preserve their honor? Our ancestors' honor?”  Oda questioned.  The leaders around him fell silent, diverting their gaze to the ground in shame.

“Yet with all that we know, all that we've seen, we resort to degrading ourselves to being the most wretched animals,” Hojo scolded, though he would be foolish if he didn't think it included him as well.  His brow that had furrowed in contempt relaxed.  Humans are so strange.

“How can our people expect to survive and return to prosperity when we have become savage beasts, lashing out as if caught in a thicket?”  the elder warlord dared to ask.  Misu had to agree with his description of Oda's colleagues.

“We cannot lose sight of who we are, what we are meant to be--”

“We must lead through clarity and resolve--”

“And not be led astray by vengeance,” they concluded together, each bearing a solemn poise that the others lacked.  Misu watched the two groups with an engrossment he could scarce describe, awaiting to see what path they would choose next.  He focused on Catherine, the one who had yet to lose much of anything.  Strangely enough, he was hoping that she would pull through.  The French Queen sighed, standing up and steeling herself for whatever she was about to do.  

“I...I have been...selfish, though that word is too kind for what I have brought upon those who I have called friend,” she said, turning her gaze toward a red-eyed Jadwiga.  “There is nothing that I could do that could ever fully make up for the pain I have caused...”

She paused, the others awaiting to hear what she would say next.

“But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.  I shall abdicate my throne to whomever is chosen to succeed me.  And if they are not satisfied with that alone--” Sejong caught Misu's eye.

“Then let them take whatever life I may have left,” he finished, resigned to his fate.  In his own eyes, Sejong was more a criminal than a ruler.  Both rooms fell silent, not sure where to go from...whatever this was.  Misu's mind, comprised of elaborate programming, was racing.  Maybe the experiment wasn't a complete waste.  Maybe there was a way to salvage what was left.  Maybe...

The lights shut down, snapping them all to attention.  While some leaders were obviously shaken, a few of them readied themselves for a fight.  Helena reloaded and cocked her pistol, not even blinking or showing hesitation.  C’mon, you sonofabitch.  Make my day.

“I must say, this...experiment has taken an interesting turn.  I’m rather glad I didn’t cut it short.”

Sejong’s blood ran cold.  His creation...son...it was nothing but a personal science project, and they were all his lab rats.  Was this Misu’s way of getting back at him?  Or was this what Sejong had taught him to be acceptable?  Neither answer was comforting.  

“It took you all long enough to figure things out.  But the data I’ve collected...means nothing.  Not without the new final stage.”

Final stage? What the hell?

“I will not unleash your own nuclear warheads against you, that I promise.  But neither will I slink away, quietly into the night.  Dearest father, you want me gone?  The rest of you, you wish to escape?  Work together.  Find me.  End it.  Once and for all.”

The screen went blank and the lights came back on.  Let the games begin. 

[civilizedcompany]

Civ VI Leaders + the Advisor Lady as Onion Headlines

[civilizedcompany]

I’m Back!

And now for more Civilized Secrets

Chapter 3:  Way Down We Go

“How long?”  asked Pedro, looking towards Saladin's direction.  He scoffs.

“Question of my life.  At this rate, decryption of the archives will take about two weeks--”

“Two minutes is too long,” shot back Robert as he pour himself a glass of scotch.  Saladin was even less amused than before.

“--Which is why redirecting all non-critical processing power and altering commands to allow us to view chunks of data, that way we aren't just sitting here doing nothing,” he finished.  Saladin rubbed the bags underneath his eyes, wondering how in the hell they all got talked into this.  “Check your screens to see if you have anything popping up.  We'll have to start somewhere.”

“I've got some files opening up.  Looks like—what?  Embarrassing holiday photos?”  Seondeok scans through her given load—Bismark's family reunion it looks like—before stealing a glance at her teammates. Robert was drinking to forget, no doubt in her mind; reading the early reports was a grim affair.   Saladin and Pedro were one out of context line away from being at each others throats ever since it was made public that the previous leaders had offered secret deals with Alexander, Genghis, Shaka Zulu, Gandhi, and Montezuma, hoping to gain support or use them as a spy.  Pedro had assured them that they had no intentions of the sort, but with hesitations from Alexander's army near Dido's forces. Safe to say, the paranoia has begun to set in. Many countries were now embroiled in reluctant, but catastrophic civil wars.  Farms destroyed, cities razed, countrymen fighting countrymen, one would think the sight alone would be enough to demoralize their opponents.  Maybe that's why they're pushing so hard, she thought, make things bad enough in the hopes of calling it quits.  Some leaders were already overthrown, with Cleopatra being the first to be sent into hiding from Augustus' and Ramses' forces and she hasn't been heard from since.  But not all was bleak, for the Shikken's advice did not go unheeded.  Thankfully, many families were able to be saved.

The sooner this war ended, the better.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Dammit!  How did we lose that many fronts already?!” shouted Chandragupta.  

“You mean besides the fact that they outnumber us at least two-to-one?”  Gorgo snarked at the warlord.  “They've had their forces set from the beginning.  I wouldn't be surprised if they had been planning such an attack for ages and just waited until they had a reason.”

“Not saying I disagree, but look right here!”  He pointed at a unit in red with an “X” over it on the map, “These troops were hidden and ready to ambush them, but they ended up detected anyway. There's another dozen squads in this area alone that have suffered the same fate, and I doubt our enemies are omniscient.”

“What are you suggesting, then?”  asked Genghis, egging the Indian king on.  Chandragupta glares at the Mongolian.

“That there's a rat among us, how else could my armies get decimated so easily?”

“Is that what you call them?  I thought they were called fodder.”

“No, that's what we call your cavalry.”

“I swear by the Sun—Enough already!”  Tomyris interjected.  

“What did they offer you, hmm?  Did Atilla promise to leave you alone?  That they would seize Tomyris' empire and give you her horses?”

“You dare spit on my honor?”  The two were now sizing up to each other.

“This is getting us nowhere, dammit!”  These are leaders?  They act like children.

“I couldn't even if I wanted to, because it's not even there!”

“Just like the strength of your army!”

Genghis and Chandragupta began to lunge towards each other, only for a spear to be thrown between them, narrowly missing both faces.  They turn to look at Gorgo, who, at the moment, was a raging force of tranquil fury.

“Enough. What is done is done.  Genghis, the lot of you chose to hide Attila's deal, so quit acting like you would not be suspicious if the roles were reversed.  Chandragupta, making baseless accusations only makes things worse.  Having proof is one thing, but starting a fight with an ally is far from a sound plan.”

They back away slightly.  She continues, her anger reaching a breaking point,  “And I for one, will not stand by while my Spartans are dying needlessly because you two can't put together a battle plan!”  Gorgo walks over and grabs her spear from the wall, stopping only to give death glares at them.  “Now, what's the situation, and how do we get out of it?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“No luck, I take it?”

Poundmaker looked up from his phone, snapping back into reality. He sighed and gently shrugs.

“Maybe.  Hard to say at this point.  It's obvious that the only reason that they're banding together is because of Catherine.  Her plan may actually work, but...”

“But...?” Helena asked, unsure of what he was getting at.  The weight of everything was starting to get to her.  What that “everything” was, however, she wouldn't let on.

“But is it the right thing to do?”

“I don't understand.”

“Hear me out on this.  Let's say this works—Catherine's plan to undermine and make them turn on each other?  It--That doesn't stop the war, it just gets pointed in a different direction,” he explained.  Helena dropped her shoulders and buried her face in her right hand, not wanting to admit that he was right.

“What other options do we have, Poundmaker?  They're not up for negotiating at this point, they just want us dead!”

“That doesn't make what we're planning to do any less wrong.”

“And they're in the right?!”  Helena asked incredulously, eyes gleaming.  What the hell?

“Their nations' securities were breached!  Name me one of our own who wouldn't demand the same.”

“So their answer is laying to waste to everything?  Everyone?” she continued, her anger no longer kept in check, “They've already gotten a head start with--” Helena stops herself, choking on tears at this point.

“Helena?” If there was ever reason to worry about her, it was now.

She tries to formulate the words but can't.  Tears began to slowly fall. Why?  Why did it have to be him?

“Helena, what happened?”

She finally buckles underneath the weight, falling to her knees and sobbing profusely.  He reaches out to try to calm her down. “He's...He's gone...”  Helena gets out, “My father is dead...He-he was...w-w-with Gilgamesh...They found Cleopatra dead in a safe house—it was a trap by Augustus and th-they got separated...Gilgamesh just sent word—My God, Poundmaker.  He's gone...gone.  And the reports keep pouring in...and...Oh God...The blood.  All the blood...”

The two sat there for heaven knows how long.  He hugged her as she wept. These are no burdens one should bear alone.

[civilizedcompany]

Civilized Secrets Chp. 2

No Question this week!  I’ll be moving stuff again this weekend to my new place.  Instead, enjoy Chapter 2.

Chapter 2: Divide and Conquer

“Any word from your mother or father?” asked the warrior queen, almost with an uncharacteristic gentleness as she touched the Shikken's face. If she were anyone else, he thought, he'd be able to churn a canned, diplomatic response.  But he knows better than to do so with her.  His mind is elsewhere, chasing a million thoughts that all lead to bitter ends.  Hojo need say nothing—as if he can formulate any words at a time like this.  He is grateful that they are alone for the time being as he pulls her into a tight embrace and kisses her forehead.  His heart racing and heavy with worry that his family—their family—no, he dare not finish that thought.  Tomyris softly strokes his back, a gesture that amounts to a platitude at this point.  Hojo Tokimune finally releases her and actually manages a response.

“No, but my best agents are looking,” he said, pacing around.  “I can't believe—After all my father did, after all this time...Did Oda really think no one would find out?” Hojo asked with rising anger.

“I'm just wondering why Catherine said nothing.”

“I as well,” he remarked bitterly as he spotted Catherine entering the meeting room , “Perhaps there will be time to ask.”

“Any direction you are leaning towards?”

“No.  And I wish I knew why.”

His face softens as he returns his gaze back to Tomyris.  She takes his hand, squeezes it—yet another well-meaning platitude that does little to quell his mind-- and motions to the meeting room door.  He dare not think of a world without his warrior queen and their unborn child.

--------------------------------

She peels her away from her phone screen, only to be greeted by Poundmaker's assured gaze.  Helena felt a strange calm, given the situation.  In all of her travels and years of advising the leaders, she'd never imagine a situation like this.  But her father was right: if she kept them calm and civil, then there's a chance they'd all get out of this with as little damage as possible.  The definition of what “little” meant in this case, however, remained to seen. Helena looked once more to Poundmaker and he gave her a quick nod. The leaders and governors had taken their seats.  Time to test the strength of every diplomatic relation and moral fiber present.  As she headed to her seat, the conversations

“Good afternoon,”  Helena began, hoping that the nerves stayed far away from her speech, “My apologies for any business that may have been interrupted or inconvenience caused, but I'm sure all of you are aware of the severity of the situation.”

A few nods, a few looks of disgust aimed at Catherine.

“In short, the previous leaders have demanded that Catherine be stripped of her throne and title as queen, and for her to be extradited back to their territories for...”she drifts off, trying to find the strength to finish the demand.  The governors and leaders lean in to hear the following words, though they already know what is to come.  “For execution.”

The words linger in the air as an uncomfortable silence befalls the room.  Hojo and Tomyris exchange glances from across the aisle, Jadwiga and Mvemba are nothing short of horrified, and Curtin, as well as many others, have their conflicted feelings broadcasted on their faces.  For a moment, Helena's resolve begins to wane.  She glances to the governors for anything that resembled encouragement, and unsurprisingly she found it only in Poundmaker yet again as he nodded for her to continue.

“Without a doubt, this demand is...unprecedented.  And with that being said, the floor is to be opened to discussion.  I implore you all to remain civil, and remind you all that all the rules of normal debate are in effect. Mind your words carefully.”

The hot-tempered Lautaro quickly leapt to his feet, full of seething rage.  “There is no need for discussion!  Our path is clear, and I  will not allow my people to suffer because of her!”

“You were not recognized, Lautaro.  Perhaps you should have been paying closer attention to what Advisor Helena has been saying,” Amani shot back, furrowing her brow, “that is a strike against your speaking privileges.  Has this been noted, Pingala?”

“Strike one noted.”

“Thank you,” Helena replied.  “Lautaro, two more strikes and you lose your ability to speak.  Another outburst after that, and you will have any voting stripped for the duration of meeting.”  The young leader relents, though it is clear he is not happy about his reprimand.  As he sits back down, the Trajan raises his hand to be recognized.

“The floor recognizes Emperor Trajan.”

The elderly commander rises from his seat, half genuine, half performing, as all Romans do when in engaged in politics.  “Perhaps it is best to hear what Catherine says in her defense?  After all, the only things we've heard are her charges.”  Leaders begin to nod, though some remain stubborn and roll their eyes instead. Jadwiga looks at Catherine, hoping that whatever newfound resolve she had earlier hasn't worn off yet.

“Many thanks, Trajan,” she began, “it is good--”

“Spare me your pleasantries, Catherine,”  he interjects, “I need to know if I'll be sending my men to their deaths for a worthy cause or electing for you to take their place.”

For a split second, the sharpness of his honesty catches her off guard; must be all that time with Gorgo.  She regains her composure before she continues.  “Right,” she began, “I know that my espionage and intelligence gathering has made me few friends--”

John Curtin leans to Saladin and whispers, “Well, at least she can state the obvious.”  The sultan lets out a small chuckle in agreement.

“But friendships and alliances are neither here nor there--”

Do tell, Tamar thinks to herself.

“It is a simple matter of pragmatism.”

Gitarja and Cleopatra try their damnedest not to laugh.  Hojo raises an eyebrow.

“The data that was leaked through a hack in the system.  A virus was able to bypass our highest levels of security and get into the archives.  From there, caches of data were made public while others were encrypted, and that information is the only key to any success. It is no secret that they outnumber us, but numbers mean little when they are all at each others throats.”  

Cleopatra lazily raised her hand, her mind already made up.

“The floor recognizes Cleopatra.”

“Forgive me for being as so bold to say such things,” she began, not even attempting to hide her disdain, “but why should our time and resources be spent on a convoluted plan, when they have so graciously provided the solution already?”  A few leaders loudly murmur in agreement.  

“Quiet!” Helena shouts.  Dammit, they're starting to lose it.

Mvemba raises his hand to be recognized, all the while staring Cleopatra down.  How...uncharacteristic of him, Helena thinks to herself.

“Mvemba you are recognized by the floor.”  Maybe he'll talk some sense?

“Because,” the Kongo chieftain emphasized, “it tells them that we give into whatever they demand!  Who is to say that they will stop at just demanding her?  What is to stop them from seizing your lands?”  He finally breaks contact with Cleopatra and turns to his fellow leaders, almost with a tinge of desperation.  Hojo is on edge, trying to keep his darker thoughts at bay.  “We must not yield on this matter, otherwise they will bully us until our homes have been pillaged and our people taken as slaves.”

Shit.

“Nonsense!”  cried Victoria, “There are plenty of them that are civilized enough to not make such demands.”

“And there are just as many who would!”  Teddy fired back.  “Attila, Napoleon,  Askia, Oda, just to name a few.”  Tokimune winces.  Do they even know?  “And you can bet that Elizabeth would kill for the chance to have the British Crown again!”

“Victoria and Roosevelt!”  Helena shouted.  No one seemed to care.  Even the governors are unsure as to what to do.  And just like that, all civility had vanished.

“How do you expect to fight a war on that large of a united front?!”  Cleopatra questioned the American president.  “Your Boy Scouts for Hire can only get you so far!”

“Ah, dear Cleopatra, always so quick to surrender,” mused the Russian Czar, “Tell me again how you lost your throne to Augustus?  Maybe he'll be nice enough this time to bring Ramses with him—Place an actual Egyptian on the throne. ”  She narrowed her eyes at him.  Tomyris glances at the Shikken, his turmoil clear as day to anyone paying attention.

“That's enough!”  Poundmaker shook his head.  You know better than that, Helena.

“This is fear-mongering at it best!” the Australian Prime Minister asserted.  “As horrible as this predicament is, we must look at the big picture.  And I have yet to see or hear of any actual credible--”

Hojo could be silent no longer.

“Then you haven't been keeping up with everything that has been leaked,” he stated with a hostile timbre in his voice as he stood to address Curtin.  “Oda has already been planning to betray my family and take over my court.  Since the leak, all of my communications with them have been cut and my spies have found nothing.”  He ignores the sympathetic faces; the only thing he sees is red.  “So no, Prime Minister Curtin, it is a legitimate threat.  And if I were you,” he said as he turned back to the rest of them, “I would call home to make damn sure no one I cared about has gone missing.”  He sits back down, lacking any sort of grace or composure befitting a lord and attempting to soothe his anger, only to find himself in an internal cocktail of rage, hopelessness, and loss.  Tomyris watches him closely.  He's already given up.

Another wave of uncomfortable quiet passes through the room. Poundmaker raises his hand slowly, and due to the chaos, it takes Helena a minute to understand what he's asking for.

“Poundmaker, you are officially recognized.”

“Thank you.  If there is nothing further to discuss, I wish to make a motion to bring the matter of not handing Catherine over to a vote.  One's life should not be determined by the whims of a shouting match.”

“Motion heard.  Any seconds?”

Pedro feels a vibration from his pocket.  One new message from Attila.

“I second the motion,” Catherine replies while holding her hand up.

Helena sighs.  The moment that everyone has been waiting for and yet never wanted to come to pass.  Even Catherine was apprehensive. There was no indication as to how well her gamble would pay off. “Voting via console will be available momentarily.  Once again, I will remind everyone of the voting rules:  India may cast a single ballot, governors may not vote, and once a choice has been selected and confirmed, it cannot be revoked.  Because of the severity of the motion's nature, the option of 'No vote' is unavailable.”  She pauses for a moment, sitting down.  “ The motion, just to be clear, is to spare Catherine from the demand.  I implore you all to be sure of your ballot choice.  And think very carefully before casting your vote.”

Predictably, there were a few who answered right away, both in favor and against Catherine.  But for many of them the decision does not come so easily.  Hands are seen close choosing an answer, and yet hesitation grips many of them.  If Helena is being honest with herself, she's not certain she could come to terms with picking either option.  Submissions pop up on Reyna's console, just within Helena's peripheral vision.  The advisor watches it closely, oblivious to Catherine looking at her for any confirmation as to her fate.  Jadwiga and Philip were both in prayer, Peter, less obviously so.   Hojo had a thousand mile stare that put Tomyris in a state of worry, damning the fact she couldn't be near him.  Many others were dejected as well.  Was there even a right answer to this?

The obvious results came in first—Cleopatra, Trajan, Jadwiga, Philip—but more than a few surprises.  The tallies were neck in neck, finally reaching in a tie. Someone hasn't voted yet. She scanned the list to see who it was, and to her shock...

Pericles.

She waited for the name to receive a result.

It did.

Helena composed herself but she knew better.  There was no way to brace for something like this.  She rises from her seat, ready to deliver the results.

“The motion of refusal to turn over Catherine...”

The tension can be cut with a knife.

“Passes eighteen to seventeen.  At this time, do what you must to establish security within your borders.  We will reconvene tomorrow to send the refusal.”  She lingers for but a moment, still not sure if this is reality or a nightmare, “Meeting adjourned.”  

A few displays of relief and anger are seen, but many remain still. Did they just sign their death warrants?  Cleopatra rises from her chair and angrily slips away.  This is bullshit.  Jadwiga and Philip give thanks to God, Curtin removes his hat to mourn the inevitable loss to follow, Tamar shakes her head, Seondeok glances at Gitarja, Trajan and Gorgo scoff, Hojo looks like he just wants to get the hell out of there, and Catherine cannot believe she is still alive.  Perhaps I should take them up on their offer.

[civilizedcompany]

If there’s anything that all American Holidays have in common, it’s food comas.

[civilizedcompany]

Consider this buildup to a beautiful ask that’s about to be answered.

[civilizedcompany]

Fun fact! Poundmaker’s descendants actually performed in his theme, and Saladin’s voice actor is a sound engineer.