The Embarrassment of The Fleet

  Santo Domingo - The Graveyard Fleet Diplomatic Offices -  "Those Damned Iberians!" Gargoza screamed as he slammed his fists on the hollow wood of the table. Several other officials paced back in forth, their hands over their heads. Gargoza jammed the telephone sitting next to him with his red fingers. About five or so sit at their desk frantically trying to reach Madrid. The room echoed with ringing and soft thuds. One abandoned their desk, followed by another, the frustrated slam followed by a sigh and a swing of the office door. Two more left, a woman with tall puffy hair was the only one left at her desk. Her cheeks were red and she was sweating profusely, but she continued to call. Her fingers slipped between the dial pad and telephone slipped of the table,  plummeting off and splitting into three as electrical sparks and smoke shot into the air. The other workers stepped back in disbelief, she banged her head against the table, "****!" 

       Gargoza walked out of the office, and took a few steps to the glass panel door exit. He slid his keycard, left, and snuggled up to the brick wall directly adjacent. He looked out into the rocks and fauna that encircled the building. Further than that was a long road that stretched across the city for miles, he must've been six feet above it. He took in a breath of the moist air and contemplated the events unfolding. Something similar had been repeated just weeks before in the Graveyard Fleet's contact of Dolinsk, though the Zukesans were definitely much more sorrowful of the parting of ways, albeit before Zhukova cursed the Fleet on international press. It was a major blunder, but it hadn't been predictable like with Dolinsk, they hadn't had foresight. Afterall, why would the Iberians join the Soviets after they bombed their people not once, but twice? The Iberians were so committed to this act of rebellion, they opted to participate in the Soviet's pitiful excuse for an alliance straight away. Had he screwed everything up that bad, or where they planning this the entire time.

      The prime minister's troubling assessment was interrupted by the lady with the tall hair joining Gargoza outside. She removed her clips and let down her hair, pressing it against the brick wall, taking a deep sigh. "Maybe it's best the prime minister stay out of the strategy room." She said calmingly, though her hands were still twitching and blanketed in ash. "Maybe." The woman took out a cigar and lit it, puffing out a dark vapor. Gargoza lifted out his hand near her shoulder and she placed a cigar, he too began to smoke. "Seeing how things are going in the streets, It was foolish of me to think I could manage this operation." Gargoza admitted his regret. 

"Heh" she murmured, staring out at the street. A cool gust of air passed them. Gargoza walked over to a tall fern to shade himself from the blooming sunlight. The lady stayed near the glass door, tracing her fingers against the dusty bricks. There was silence for a little while longer.

      "You know you're a real *******!." She alleged while lighting another cigarette. Gargoza stood there in silence for a few moments, before turning to her, "Well you could try having an appropriate discourse with-" 

"Been there, done that, y'know one of your stupid officers set off a bomb in my house." She tossed the cigar out into the rocks. She rolled here eyes and bit her lip to show her disapproval.

"Suppose you aren't saying you're going to take any action against our Republic?" Gargoza questioned suspectingly. "Take what action?" She gloomily replied. 

      They both sat in silence for a bit, then the woman turned to Gargoza and took out the cigar she just recently popped in, "They loot the stores, you bomb their homes, fires are set, and then you just send in the boys." She laughed cynically in remorse, "Do you always have to double down?" Gargoza looked down for a second. The fern danced above him as the wind intensified. "I am doing my job to the best of my ability, I will have you fired if you prove me to that your interests are not in that of the republic." Gargoza walked towards the lady with a sense of authority. She turned her head back to the wall and took another smoke. He stared at her menacingly, "What's your name, young diplomat?" "Tskk" Her teeth sang. "Ma'am, I need your name, I won't tolerate disrespect on these premises." 

     Suddenly the man's phone started vibrating in his pocket. Gargoza picked up, "Hello this is Madrid." He looked at the woman triumphantly for a moment. "Yes, this is Gargoza, minister of the Fleet Republic, I ask why you are calling me if this is to be a real call?" 

The man on the other line spoke in a familiar voice, a speaker of the Grand Parliament. "Ofcourse it is a real call you dimwit." The man spoke with a great sense of confidence, chewing a nut between words, echoing disturbingly into Gargoza's ear. "To think we use to speak with you with the respecting conduct you have not shown us." He chewed louder and Gargoza distanced himself from the phone. "I believe there is stil-." The man interjected with an exhausted tone, "You think I haven't gotten fifty or so calls about your bullcrap neutrality plans!" Gargoza frowned, the woman looked at Gargoza with a raised eyebrow as the muffled screaming reached her. 

"Well No, I-" 

"It was a rhetorical question, now, since you have an aptitude for over-estimating your means, I leave with you a simple message from Antoine." 

Gargoza paused.

"Peace was an option, just not eternal peace." He said slowly with a humorous drawl.

     The caller abruptly hung up. Gargoza stared into his coat. It was his fault, he had failed to realize the Iberian imperialist dream could never been compatible with the ever expansive interventions of the Fleet. Thousands had died to protect that stupid rock, and for what, to be pushed to the curb. It was clear the soviet's didn't care what the outcome in Iberia was as long as it was a play against the Fleet. They removed the prosecution of the war criminal for the sake of keeping their fleet. It all seemed so inevitable now, but yet he hadn't seen it coming, no-one did. Except for the woman, she had appeared only on the first day of war-planning, and today. Gargoza never learned of her name, or who she was; She appeared out of the mistful air, but it was if she'd been here before, on both occasions of Gargoza's recollection. Now he looked out to see her, but she was long gone.

      He started to feel light headed. He made his way to the door, nearly limping but keeping his posture before he reached for his neck. He shortly began coughing ash and blood, his fluids being painted over the ID scanner of the glass door. He fell down, his hands scraping against the glass as he tried to stand up. The world became dim.

   Africa - A woman walked around her home, admiring her priceless pottery and lively plants. She felt the purple stem of one of her favorite plants. She walked over to her living room and turned on the evening news via her remote. She made sure to attentively study the sleek edges of the remote, the absence of dust, and the point of contact where it'd be most easy to rip out the plastic buttons from their coils; All within a sliver of a moment. She stared back at the television as it sprang to life, the colors swiftly conjugating. The headline read, 'In Masterstroke of Diplomacy, Iberia to ally with Soviet Fed; A New Cold War?' 

She grinned, The Plot Thickens.

I have way too many projects, and run on short bursts of energy and motivation. It might be good to step away from more lengthy interventions to focus on these projects, especially the Red Bloc war video and schooI (duh). However, I can't promise anything :)

also, the Soviet Federation and GF are still at war, since I was left out of the treaty.