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General Barisov, recently of the 4th Army Group, in charge of the annexation of Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania, was a trim, spare man with a long flowing goatee which seemed to have sapped all the energy from the rest of his sunken, old-before-its-time face. He had, after some vicious infighting and more than a dozen other generals being ousted as Dire Wraiths or their sympathizers, become the creator and then head of the Volga-Petersburg-Kaluga defensive line. One of the two most important defensive positions, with the other being the Caspian front. As such, he was arguably one of the ten, perhaps even one of the five, most important men in Russia right now.
He was currently scowling as he stared at the bird waiting for him on the windowsill. The fact that the owl was there at all, with all of the antiair guns around his bunker and his personal guards outside, was disturbing in the extreme. The intelligence gleaming at him out of those huntress's eyes merely added to the impact. The fact that there was a note of some kind tied to her leg simply added another layer to the oddity.
After a few fulminating moments, he finally voiced one of the many questions its arrival had evoked in his mind. "And what are you supposed to be? A familiar perhaps? Has some ancient Baba Yaga shown an interest in me?"
The owl's eyes narrowed, and it barked dangerously, clacking its beak at him although how the Barisov could tell that, was beyond him. "So that was no, but I thought all owls hooted, but that wasn't a hoot," he asked mildly.
Now the snowy owl looked affronted. "Very well, I will humor you, drop it over there."
With a final glare, the bird leaned down and began to nip at the string tied around her leg.
Quickly Barisov reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the bird. But before he could complete the move, the bird had disappeared, only to reappear directly in his face, grabbing at the gun with one clawed hand as it hovered in midair, it's beak stabbing forward only to stop a near centimeter away from his eyes.
Barisov stopped, frozen in shock. He tried to blink, only to have the bird's beak stop his eyelash from closing, so close was it to his eye. A single twitch and Barisov would lose the eye, which instantly began to water. If the bird wanted to, it was quite clear that it could do even more damage with a bit more effort.
Slowly that bird beak backed away, just enough to open to admit the weird sound it had made before. Somehow knowing what it wanted, he convulsively let go of the gun, letting it clack to the desktop, raising his hand away from it. I hadn't even had time to remove the safety!
The bird hopped back, landing on his desk lightly, then tore at the bindings on its leg and dropped the parchment on his desk before flapping its wings once, rising into the air hovering there with a few wing flaps. It glared at him for a moment before winging its way out the door as it banged open and two guards moved in, the rifles at the ready. They both ducked out of the way of the bird automatically and between one wing flap and the next, it was gone.
"General, what was that? I, did that just happen?" One private asked, lowering his rifle and scratching at his forehead.
"Certainly it was not a hallucination," Barisov said, looking down at where his hand had been quite badly scratched by the bird as he spoke in his usual clipped, proper tones. "Could you go and get some bandages, I think I'm going to need them," he went on mildly, before reaching forward with his other hand and opening the sealed scroll of parchment on his desk.
"General, that could be a bomb!" The other private protested as the first one who spoke turned and ran back out of the room to find the aforementioned bandages.
"While I am certain that the Americans and British do amazing things with explosives, I doubt they would need one when they can use that particular bird. If it wanted me dead, I most certainly would be at this moment. As such, I believe that this is if not actually important then at least not life-threatening."
Barisov opened the envelope and read what was within it briefly, staring at the gold disc that had fallen out with it. Lifting it up, he thumped it on the side of the desk, blinking at the heavy *thump* it gave. "A disc of pure gold," he mused, setting it down, before reading the message quickly. "And, with a specific spell on it, I see. I think I have some phone calls to make and then, perhaps this cease-fire of ours with the so-called allies may become a full peace in time."
Thankfully, Hedwig's journeys elsewhere had gone far more swiftly than with Barisov. On her first trip, she hadn't run into any issues until after the King of Britain, William the Fifth read the message, whereupon he shook his head. "I am not in charge of foreign policy in my government. I might control the purse when it comes to the military and I most certainly am willing to declare war, but when it comes to peace, I must hand this over to my Prime Minister and her foreign secretary."
Hedwig precked then kicked at the golden disc with a talon, looking back at the King appraisingly. "Ah, that will work on anyone, then?"
The owl nodded her head and the King smiled blandly. "In that case, I will agree to this, I will get together…"
He was interrupted by the owl quickly shaking her head. She then hooted twice, then flicked her head upwards.
That took a bit for the king to parse out, but he finally nodded. "Ah only the actual policymakers, none of their hangers-on? That makes sense, I suppose. In that case, I think you need to get out of here before my granddaughter sees you, she seems to have developed a fondness for you during her time in Camelot."
The bird precked in amusement and then hopped off his desk, flapping her wings strongly, rising into the air before vanishing out a window at his winter castle.
This meeting with the king of the UK was much more normal than the meeting with Barisov, although there was a tense moment with the Finnish general, who was apparently a part-time taxidermist. But beyond that, most of the people who saw Hedwig had, by this point realized there was more to the world than their previous beliefs, whatever they might have been, allowed for. The idea of magic and an owl delivering such was not nearly as unusual as, oh, the entire world being plunged into winter without end, or a man able to create giant earthquakes or aliens existing.
OOOOOOO
One by one the port keys activated, bringing in the different parties. First, of course, were Harry's solid allies: Dr. Doom, Prime Minister Thatcher, and William himself, followed by the American president, Samuel Northton and his foreign secretary, whom Harry hadn't met before, an elderly extremely-frail looking black man with large coke-bottle glasses named Adam Roselli. They found Harry and General Murphy there already, but Harry rose, smiling and gesturing them into seats. He paused when he noticed that only Doom was looking at him. Not one of the others, nor General Alluca of the Caucuses Front or General Heinzweger, who had worked with Steve and his team on the Polish front, were looking at him. Or even the jungle around them.
No, they were staring up through the side of High Note which Hela had made transparent for this meeting. "I...i-is that Earth!? Are we actually in orbit?" the president asked, staring. "I've been to Fortress Mars but this, this is…"
"Yes we are in orbit," Harry said with a nod. "I've not gotten tired of that view. Now please, take a seat, the others will be appearing momentarily, and I don't think we want the receiving area there too crowded."
"Others?" The president asked, looking around and shrewdly noting who was there already. "Your message said that this was to discuss what to do about the Russian Question, not what that would entail."
"It will entail actual policymakers around the world talking face to face, not through intermediaries, not the media, not through any other layer but your own voices," Harry said firmly. "We need this war to be brought to a real close, gentlemen. A true peace, not just a cease-fire as everyone bickers about the results and what it matters. I'm under no illusion that it can happen swiftly, but it will happen through this discussion."
The president smirked, leaning back and shaking his head. "You know, the president of the most powerful country in the world really isn't used to being dictated to like this."
"Are you the most powerful country in the world now?" Harry asked dryly cocking his head quizzically and locking eyes with the president.
"Well, in every normal way that most people think we are Harry, even if using that strength against you appears to be the next best thing to impossible outside of perhaps the economic theatre," the president grumbled, shaking his head. "Don't think that we haven't noticed though that a vast majority of the superpowers in the world are now looking to you to lead them. That's dangerous."
"It would be if I don't lead them well," Harry said shrugging her shoulders. "And you forget Mr. President, that for every one mutant or superpowered individual that has joined me, I've added dozens of mutants who are under my protection. My accumulation of power was for two purposes: to defend Earth from extraterrestrial threats and to defend mutants and humans from the blind bigots among both groups. If I thought for a moment that humanity could be expected to keep the EDF running without it becoming one nation's personal toy or an outgrowth of the rather idiotically indecisive UN, I could retire. You tell me the odds of that happening," he finished, one eyebrow rising in query.
At that point, Dr. Doom sat next to Harry and Harry started pouring out some fire whiskey for him, explaining what it was to the president before offering him some, which he accepted. As he did so, Harry eyed Paris Seville, who had appeared with Dr. Doom, sitting down next to him dressed in a somewhat severe but pristine ivory and white business suit.
"Now that's interesting," Emma murmured into Harry's mind via the link Jean had created between herself and Harry, the redhead having reached out to Emma, acting as a conduit. "I wonder if that means they're serious. It would be nice if that's the case. After that whole debacle with Buckman, Paris deserves to have some happiness. Although I've no idea if Doom could give it to her."
"I wonder if she's going to try to skew the news channels she owns in his direction, or not," Jean interjected.
"They're both smart enough to know how badly that could backfire," Emma said tartly. "But she could run personal interest news to balance anything negative about him that gets out. That way she's just looking as if she's trying to remain neutral, instead of entirely in his pocket."
"Really?" Jean murmured. "Are you sure it's not his pants that she's in?"
"Does he technically wear pants? Isn't there a technical term for armored leggings?" Hela asked, her tone positively gleeful as she spoke through the linkage that Jean was sustaining between them all.
"I have no idea," Harry said with a mental laugh at them all. "And I'm not going to speculate."
Harry engaged Doom in a conversation on the recent war and then the EDF, pulling in the president and Minister Thatcher for a few moments. But soon more delegates came in, including T'challa and the neutral parties, and he became busy meeting and greeting them. Soon the area was full of the delegates and Harry had ushered each of them into their chairs.
"I like this," Barisov admitted as if the words caused him physical pain. "Your owl messenger is a little disturbing, but this face to face with our fellows, this is good."
William chuckled. "I actually came up with a new label for Harry because he is such a fan of this sort of thing: The Bull Shite Cutter."
"Heh, well, I rather like that label much better than my old 'Boy Who Lived' one," Harry replied with a lopsided smile.
Barisov chuckled dryly. "Then you would hate to hear what you are being called among my troopers." When Harry just looked at him blandly, the man went on. "You are known as He-Who-Brings-the-Fire among them."
"Heh, he's called the Emerald-Eyed King by my people," T'challa interjected, which a few of the other politicians nodded at, having heard that from a few news agencies.
Hearing this through Harry's ears, Hela smiled in approval, happy that her Seidr Man was winning more renown, while Harry simply groaned, shaking his head. But he felt Hela's approval vanish an instant later as the Spanish representative, a man named Georgio Moncovelli, say, "That's one my newsies bruit about, but the one I like the most is the one that's appeared in the gossip rags before this latest trouble. They call him the True Son of Aphrodite."
"Excuse me, how dare anyone say Harry is related to that, that slut goddess!?" Hela shouted into Harry's head and Harry was very thankful that Jean was the one controlling their connection, not her. That kept the volume of her response muted enough to let him keep from twitching at her sudden shriek.
"Um, where did that come from?" he asked plaintively. "I mean, all the others I can understand, even if I don't like them, but that one?"
"You were recorded by security cameras dating Storm at one point, but recently you've also been recorded in public with an unknown blonde woman of supermodel level beauty and a mysterious raven-haired woman," the Spaniard said with a smile. "Although oddly enough their features never come out in pictures or video."
While Harry was dealing with the fact that his fame had reached the point where he would have trouble going out at all without getting recorded and relief at the fact his minor glamors had done their job one of the two representatives from Turkey spoke up, thankfully returning to the topic of this meeting. "Nothing here can be finalized. And I resent the fact that we are not all here. I see an American, I see a Briton. I do not see an Indian, a Chinese, or any of our fellow Middle Eastern countries."
"Your fellow Middle Eastern countries are not here because they did not take part in the war. They did not send material, men or anything else, Representative Bayram," Harry said to the Turkish man, smiling in thanks to the change of subject. Both of the reps from that country were members of the current ruling party of Turkey, the Anavatan Partisi or the Motherland Party. "The men and women here are the ones that fought and whose people bled, or in any way paid for the war."
Harry smiled thinly. "As for China, their representative will come by in about an hour and their demands are simple enough to understand. They want their lands back to the Alar River back and help to create a series of fortifications along with it, as well as a formal apology from the Russians for their unprovoked attack. But the Chinese realize they were a bit of a sideshow in this war and we've already been in contact with them. They are willing to leave their demands at that, so long as they receive aid in creating the fortifications."
That had been an interesting discussion. It turned out that the Chinese, as angry and annoyed as they were about the war in general, in no way wanted anything from Russia beyond their lands returned except perhaps metal and an apology. China was already too large, their internal transportation networks too unformed for them to want to aid swaths of new land, especially on the other side of a border they had deliberately left undeveloped. Further, they in no way wanted to add non-Chinese ethnic groups into their own territory (although of course, China wasn't exactly a single-race nation as it was). This was a pragmatic view of the world that Harry deeply approved of.
"Why are they here!?" Georgian representative said, pointing angrily at the Black Panther. For some reason, the man was really glaring at the Moroccan representative, which was unusual. "Perhaps he lost money at their casinos or something," Harry shared idly to the laughter of his ladies.
Aloud, however, he replied mildly, "The Black Panther and the representatives of Brazil and Morocco are here as neutrals. They will form the judicial panel of this meeting, to make certain that everything is above board."
"Above board? While you people decide on how you are going to carve up Mother Russia?!" said one of the other Russian representatives, an old intense-looking man whose appearance, strangely enough, put Harry in mind of images he'd seen of Rasputin, only far better dressed.
"No," Harry said firmly. "Let me get say this bluntly, gentlemen. The Custodes Mundi will not condone the unilateral disarmament or, as the Russian ambassador says, the equally unilateral carving up of Russia. It is untenable, we simply couldn't do it, so let us aim for something that is more realistic."
"We agree with this," the American president said quickly, followed an instant later by Thatcher and, surprisingly, the Finnish rep and Dr. Doom.
That caused shouts from a lot of the representatives and Harry was content to let them vent their spleens for a few moments, wanting to see who controlled themselves first and how long it took. Then Doom interrupted them, contempt clear in his tone from behind his metal mask. "Are you fools so set on creating another Middle East?"
That shut them up and he pointed at the Turkish representatives, who looked pained. "We already have a blatant example of what happens when other countries decide where borders are, without caring about regional issues or demographics. At least the British have learned from history."
Harry cut in then as he made what hay he could from Doom's start, gesturing at the Germans and the French, who had been placed at two different tables. "Exactly. And we also have a historical example of what happens when the reparations are too high and far too unrealistic." He paused then smiled. "I believe that all of us here are intelligent enough to have learned from history. If I am wrong in that statement, please correct me now."
The fulminating silence that this bland, yet very blunt statement evoked lasted for a few moments, as they all glared at Harry. None of them seemed to have the courage to stare at Doom, something that made Hela mutter into his mind about making them fear him just as much, before being shushed by Jean and Emma. But Harry smiled back at them cheerily, though the smile did not reach his hard, emerald eyes.
William stood up, pushing himself up with difficulty as he looked around the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, while his words are rather far too blunt, to be truly called diplomatic, we all have to admit that Harry Potter has a point. The world is rife with examples of stark imperialism at its worst, of foreign countries acting as they will without regard to the consequences. I have lived through three wars now. That is more than enough. Please do not sow the seeds for another to occur in my son's time."
That statement, coming as it did from the ninety-plus king of the United Kingdom, who was by far the oldest and among the most respected world leaders, caused everyone with half a brain or any knowledge of history to pause. A few didn't but the glares from their fellows, especially Doom and Harry's twin stares, silenced them. It was truly a tossup to which was scarier, the dark, blank mask of Doom and it's black eye-slits, or Harry's hard, nearly electric magical eyes.
William went on smoothly, his aged voice reaching to the far corners of this magnificent jungle, which somehow had been transported to Earth's orbit. "Is Russia in the wrong? This cannot be denied." The Russians all seemed to swell up in protest, but the King glared at them and though his body was starting to fail him, there was nothing wrong with his glare. Indeed, the years had merely added to its power. "Yes, you were tricked by the aliens and so what? I have it on good authority that at least some of your generals and higher-ups knew about the aliens and went along with their plans, believing that Russia would be stronger."
He waited to see if they would dispute that, but since that news had been broadcast throughout the world by this point by nearly every news agency, even in places like China and Russia, they could not dispute the truth. "They chose to kneel to the aliens, these Dire Wraiths and your whole nation has paid for it. But it was your nation which demanded payment from the rest of the world. That will be the starting point. That Russia acknowledges its culpability and shoulders the blame for this war."
As he sat down the Russians, most of them, shouted at that, banging their fists on the tabletop and roaring out that the Dire Wraiths were to be blamed and had already been punished. Had not Russia been slaughtering every one of them that could be found within its borders? Had not the Guardian killed their leader and then done…something to the Crystal of Ever Winter? "We are the victims in this, more than anyone else!"
"Oh," the American president asked sharply, "was it the Dire Wraiths who pulled the trigger of this war? Was it the Dire Wraiths who launched your armies at our throats? Did the Dire Wraiths do all the fighting? No! Your nation did. And it is your nation which must pay."
At that point, Harry cut in smoothly on Emma's prompting. He would have let the two sides shout at one another some more, thinking it best to get it all over with at one point. It worked for arguing children after all. "But adults Harry, are much more prone to hold grudges than young children for words said in anger. And most aren't shouting just for the sake of shouting."
With a wave of his hand and a "killjoy" to Emma, Harry summoned a blast of thunder into the room, silence everyone before he stood up, speaking formally. "But, let it be said that if you admit to this, that the reparations that we demand in turn will not be as onerous as they would otherwise be. There's a lot of good Russia could do for the world and for the defense of earth against other alien threats if you would join us willingly."
"So that is the carrot then," one of the Russians said, pushing up his glasses thoughtfully to stare at Harry as if the earlier moment of spleen-venting hadn't occurred. "To become part of the earth defense force in truth, we must admit that we were in the wrong. Very well, we can accede to that."
His fellows looked at him in shock and he shrugged. "This is a negotiation, gentlemen. And I would rather we negotiate from a position of strength than from a position of weakness that will beget further weakness. We cannot, as the King of the English said, argue the fact that we were in the wrong. That many of our higher generals and officers went along with the Dire Wraiths willingly.
"They were not a representation of our nation!" the older man shot back glaring.
"No they are not, but when has that ever mattered, when they were the most powerful? They yoked the rest of the nation into moving in lockstep with them. In that, they are just as much to blame as the Soviet government was for Stalin." The man replied equably.
The other Russians scowled, while the Georgians and the Azerbaijan representatives looked smug and began to talk about what they wanted in reparations in terms of remuneration. That caused further shouting from the Russians, although the man in glasses didn't raise his voice, merely letting out a few cutting barbs. The Turks then came in on the side of the Georgians and Azerbaijani, with Poland soon adding their own weight into things. Doom then replied to a shot across the bows from the Ukrainian rep, his response causing the man to turn first white in fear then red in apoplexy.
This went for a few more moments of shouting until once more Harry, having waited until Doom had finished speaking, silenced them all. He waited until they all realized it, then canceled the spell and said mildly, "Gentlemen, the reason why I brought you all together here was so we could cut through the bull-shite. I believed that we were all going to be intelligent, thinking individuals rather than reactionaries. Was I wrong? Am I, in fact, talking to children, who cannot understand that they need to make agreements and deals rather than demands?"
"You're not making friends here Harry," Emma replied his head, her tone almost gleeful.
"What are your demands of us Mr. Potter?" The quiet Russian asked, once more pushing up his glasses. He seemed to be the leader of the Russians somehow, an observation that Emma and Jean both confirmed. How that was, when he was actually the least senior of the group was a mystery, but Harry decided to put it down to natural charisma and self-control, for now.
"My personal demands and offers are simple enough to state, though I am under no illusion they will be simple enough to meet, never fear. "First, I demand that the Russian government starts to stamp out the anti-mutant propaganda and pogroms, along with allowing freedom of religion, the suppression of which I know has been slowly ramped up recently." The Russians all flinched at that, but Harry went on. "In return for that, I will extend the same medical equipment and access to magical healing that I have opened up to the allies."
Barisov stopped breathing for a moment as the other Russians just stared, until the general spoke in a croak, "Are, are you talking about what you did to that old general of the British Demontebanks, healing his crippled legs?"
"Yes," Harry said bluntly. "That is precisely what I'm talking about. I've been doing that and more over the past two weeks prior to this meeting." A little white lie, since Harry had slept for twenty-four hours and then taken twelve hours to break and then another half-day to set this up, but still, that would take far too long to explain.
"That is a tremendous offer, but you are also asking quite a lot of us," the thoughtful Russian said while everyone around them fell silent. This was something no one else there cared about one way or another since their soldiers already had access to those very things, even if that access was slow. "Social viewpoints, especially if they are built into the very structure of their nation, are very difficult to change."
"They are, but they become easier if those in power are intelligent enough to realize that the social problem in question is self-destructive. There are more mutants being born every year ladies and gentlemen, most of them with powers that range from having scales or fur to just seeing in the dark. Most mutants are simply victims of their power, rather than empowered by it. And it is always the innocent that suffer first," Harry said, his face set in an angry glare as he looked around the room, making certain his words got through to everyone there.
The Russians began to huddle around talking quietly, while Harry and the others waited. "We can only promise to try in good faith. Will that be enough?"
"That will be enough to give you access to our medical equipment. You will not give you access to our technologies, nor will Magical Minds agree to sell our medical equipment to you. But, in return, I will agree to offer jobs to any military forces among you who can be retrained to work with the EDF."
"That actually dovetails with what we were going to demand as a starting point," the American president said, leaning forward eagerly. "We do not want to see Russia unilaterally disarmed, but we do demand that the number of people under arms is sharply curtailed."
"I'm sensing collusion here," said the thoughtful Russian dryly, before shrugging. "Let us get down to numbers on that issue then…"
"No," shouted the Georgian slamming his hand down. "We must demand that we discuss reparations first and foremost. If unilateral disarmament is off the table, then you must pay more!"
The back-and-forth continued for much of the day, with food being brought out twice and Harry calling for a recess three times so that everyone could cool down a bit. Despite that, he was only forced to use his magical powers twice to silence people. So Harry was hopeful that they were making some progress.
Over three days of work like this, they finally got to a point where, while no one was happy, everyone had gotten at least some of what they wanted with Harry and the earth defense force coming out ahead in no uncertain terms. The Russians, of course, did have to agree to pay for their crimes. But while money was not going to be changing hands, for the most part, resources most certainly were as well as land.
Specifically, Belorussia was now going to be allowed to go its own way to form its own nations, which had, frankly, been a done deal before the talks had even begun given the fact that the military forces there had signed a separate cease-fire with the allies and then had had bluntly refused to leave the territory of Belorussia. The Russians were actually quite happy about it in a way.
It turned out, that the Belarusians were not exactly the most democratic or humanitarian-minded of governments. Furthermore, the resources Belorussia was home to wasn't much in terms of the rest of Russia, so they could deal with its loss far more easily than the loss of the land down in the Caucuses.
There, the local ethnic demography had to come into play. Local representatives of the people there had to be brought in, something that most of them reacted to quite poorly at least at first until they understood what was being discussed. Azerbaijan and Georgia would be coming out of this with a bit more land and specifically a few more cities, heavy industrial centers, where Georgians and other non-Russians were the majority. In return, they would pay to peacefully deport ethnic Russians that lived there. Since in Karachay-Cherkesia that made up thirty percent of the population and in Karadino-Belkaria twenty-two percent, that was not going to be cheap by any means. This would be made worse by a lot of the major roads into and out of these territories having been wrecked during the recent war. Azerbaijan would have an easier time of it incorporating the Dagestan area, where Russians only made up a little below four percent of the population.
One sticking point in this area was the territory of Chechnya, where there had been a lot of unrest among the local Chechnyan population. The local leaders brought in from there, identified by Sage, Dennis, and the Russian techno-mutant Sputnik was also quite antagonistic to everyone else from the area and nearly started a fight with the Russians. Harry had to replace them twice. It was decided that the area would have to - if it really could look after itself - become an independent nation, possibly with most favored nation status and access to Georgian and Azerbaijani markets. This would help them get on their feet faster, but it was anyone's guess whether or not it would work
This part of the talk actually evolved into an entire sub-discussion and one which would go on for more than a month beyond the rest of the discussion, which Harry had Dennis and Sage watch very closely. As Doom had said, the last thing the world wanted was another hotbed of ethnic-based conflict.
Otherwise, the Russians agreed to pay in material, specifically oil and gas, of which Russia was a major supplier even with those territories annexed, and concrete and wood, as well as building materials and whole fleets of construction machines. Here the secret factories that Russia had begun to build almost as soon as the official Cold War ended would come into their own, for a time. Harry agreed to supply those with the metal they needed so long as his survey teams were allowed access to them and they were turned over to the EDF after the reparations were paid.
Of course, the specifics of how much they would pay was an area where the talks bogged down again.
Greece was the first to object. "No! Russia's reparations need to exceed what my nation paid for this war! Greek nationals died in United Nations colors when Russia's armies rolled across the borders. My nation led in men and material as the war continued. Our national pride demands that since we are not in a position to make any claims on land, that we are paid in cash!"
He had an ulterior motive of course. Greece's economy was on the brink of collapse, rife with corruption and profiteering. The representatives of Greece were their policymakers when it came to foreign relations, but that did not mean that they were exempt from that corruption. The man could easily skim a bit over the top. His greed was practically visible to Harry, let alone Jean, who has always during these discussions was writing his mind along with Emma.
"Your country? Your country barely sent a few thousand men to NATO every year, my nation sends far more! More material and more of the youth of our nation to bleed and die on soil not their own!" Shouted the Georgio, having been relatively silent during this discussion about what land would be turned over or cut out of Russia. He had seemed to understand the necessity of letting most of Russia remain intact and under control of the central government. But now that they were talking about resources and money, he threw his weight into the ring.
The Frenchman looked about at his thoughts as well. His nation had contributed to the NATO forces that had been on the border of Russia before this. And after the conflict had started, France had done a much better job of working with Germany and Poland to send in troops then either Greece or Spain had and had thereby lost more men and more material. With the problems of chopping Russia into smaller more easily managed bits laid out, he had reigned in his imperialism before this, but now that they were talking about money and material, he too wanted to take part in this discussion.
But just as he had opened his mouth in order to add his own words to the shouted discussions going on, one of the large doors into the jungle area near his table opened. He turned, along with many of the others, only to stop and stare gasping as Storm entered.
She was dressed in a dress, rather than her uniform, a light tan colored dress that was open to one side, showing off a bit of thigh but otherwise hiding her legs from view, rising up and hugging her waist. From there the tan of the dress changed around her torso into a multi-colored area of small flashes of green, yellow and blue scales. This pattern reached the bottom of her chest where the dress's style changed back to tan, rising and hiding her chest from view entirely while also being tight, ending in a tight neckline but leaving her shoulders bare. In her hair, she had a simple tiara while she wore the special Panja ring on her hand, it's silver and gold standing out starkly against her black skin, the two blue diamonds on the ring and bracelet shimmering with an inner fire.
Yet it wasn't her beauty that caused the voices of all of the delegates to peter out. No, that was down to her presence and her presence, the aura of majesty and kindness that she exuded so easily. They began to murmur as she walked forward, staring at her, feeling the weight of her arrival, of her eyes on them. Of all of the mutants that Harry had gathered to him, Storm was easily the most recognized and even with the Phoenix added in was the most respected. Not just respect for her power, but for her presence, for the things she did and how she acted in public.
As she walked, the murmurings began. Some of them stood up and bowed towards her, thanking her as a goddess of healing. Others simply nodded, knowing that they had the weather witch to thank for their not being any long-lasting effects of the aliens' winter magic. Others seemed to almost be overcome by her sheer or of majesty, bowing their heads. The Moroccan even went so far as to call her a Queen to Harry's Emerald eyed king in a low tone.
The Black Panther simply nodded at that, staring at her. Feeling his emotions broadcasting so strongly they could pick them up from where they were elsewhere on High Note, Emma and Jean broke out of their own momentary surprise at Storm's presence to look at one another. "We need to hook that man up with someone else, his infatuation with Ororo is not going to do him or us any favors long run."
"Playing matchmaker is not my idea of fun, but I think you're right. He's not let go of that infatuation of his with Ororo. I don't think we want to face an issue like the one the Fantastic Four does with Namor and Susan, do we?" Emma replied.
Unaware of that conversation happening elsewhere, Storm stopped halfway through the jungle, looking around at the delegates shaking her head at their veneration of her. "Queen, Wind Walker, Weather Witch, Goddess of Healing? Those are too many names for one who, at bottom, merely wishes to help those around her and be an example for those who follow after. I am merely Storm, please."
Those words somehow humbled every man and the few women there and they looked away one after another. Harry didn't, he hadn't taken his eyes off her person from the moment she'd entered the room, and feeling the emotions through their link, Jean actually shuddered, leaning back and sighing as she simply basked in the love she felt from Harry to Storm, knowing he felt the same for all of them. Emma had to pinch her quite hard to get her to concentrate on what was going on again.
By that time, Harry had held out his hands to Storm, taking her hands in his and kissing them gently, first one palm then the other, then slowly turning her hand her ring hand around and kissing the blue diamond there, staring into her eyes. "Good afternoon my lady," he said in a whisper, his heart in his eyes, those eyes saying much more than he would ever be comfortable with out in public. "I'm sorry, I would've invited you to this, but I thought you would be busy down in the hospital."
"I was, but unlike you Harry I know the word moderation," Ororo replied drolly, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek, before taking a place beside him, looking around them as she did. "Moderation ladies and gentlemen is why I am here. I do not want to burn myself out healing the crippled soldiers and civilians that have been sent to us from around the world. And it is a concept that we all need to be aware of going forward. This issue with Russia is far too big, far too complex for simple demands of 'we want more' to hold any weight. We must all in good conscience agree to compromise here, otherwise what is the point of actually discussing it in the first place? No demands, no outright refusals, we are interested in agreements, nothing more, nothing less."
For a moment the room was silent, then one of the delegates, an Italian man who had been one of the ones pushing for the entire dissolution of Russia at first, but who had not spoken up since asked hesitantly. "And judging by the fact you have shifted your attention to using your magic to heal our wounded, can we assume that there will be no more environmental troubles?
"You may. Certain areas will receive more wearing rainfall, a little colder, a little more heat and suchlike, but nothing truly disastrous. It was insanely difficult, like an ever-evolving puzzle, where the instant you finish one puzzle, you realize it is simply a piece to a larger one and have to keep that puzzle intact while also turning your attention to the larger aspect," Storm said, shaking her head. "It was the most incredibly mind-numbingly difficult work I've ever done, but it is finished now."
Margaret Thatcher was no real believer in the Pro-mutant agenda. Oh, she knew they existed, but she had what she thought was a normal person's fear of those who were more powerful than her. She had seen enforcing the idea of mutant rights under the law as simply making certain the government stayed in control of the situation.
Now she had to hold back a shiver at the idea of the power that Storm was talking about and send a quick prayer to the Almighty that Storm and Harry Potter were on the side of the good guys. If they had decided that violent revolt was the way forward like that madman Magneto, or even that fellow down in Genosha, I don't know if the world could have survived.
That was a thought that was going through many minds, as they looked at Harry, Storm and next to them, Dr. Doom and Paris Lourdes, who also represented power and who, many of them now noted in the case of the woman, was actually taking notes and had a small recording device in front of her.
More then one of them looked a little angered at that but realized that if the news mogul had that device in front of her now, it meant that she had permission to and frankly, she wasn't a naïve newspaper reporter, she was a business entrepreneur, who knew both politics and the vagaries of public opinion. She wouldn't print or share anything that would cause these talks to derail after the fact. Still, many of the delegates there thought it best to watch their words from now on.
Seeing that everyone had suddenly become much more thoughtful and considerate, the chief Russian leaned forward, smiling slightly as he tapped his chin. "We were talking about remuneration but in the materials and monies. Unfortunately, my nation will be strapped for actual cash for quite some time. I'm certain that none of us want to deal with the economic down that would occur worldwide if the Russian economy suddenly began to tank for lack of governmental funds…"
From that point on the bespectacled Duma representative quickly proved to not only be the most levelheaded of the Russians but to also be the most dangerous one when it came to negotiations. His name was Kirov and he had a grasp of the Russian economy, it's internal workings, weaknesses, strengths, and depth including the underground factories and railways, that none of the others could match. He showed this now and then as the conversation continued winding back to one of America's demands, that of demilitarization.
"We've been talking around this topic long enough, I think it's time to take the bull by the horns," said the American president, leaning forward, stapling his hands and placing his chin on them as he stared around at the other tables. "I think we can all agree on the Allied side that we are not willing to allow Russia to keep its current military strength. Not even after its losses so far in this war. Yet at the same time, I fully recognize that a full demilitarization is just not workable. Even with Harry offering to hire anyone you lay off your armies," he added dryly, looking over towards Harry.
"Indeed, I am sensing quite a bit of collusion there and ulterior motives as well. Could it be that you are having trouble meeting your recruitment needs?" Kirov asked shrewdly as he looked at Harry.
"Thanks to China and South America, we're not actually in that bad a place for raw recruits. But that's just the point, they're raw. Most of them need to be retrained to act in the Navy, rather than an army, two different things, even if both of them salute the same," Harry replied promptly. "And at the moment, we have a lot of trained naval personnel from America and the United Kingdom that we're going to be training on the Verdun class defense platforms and the Raven-class space superiority starfighters. If we can use the Chinese and the Russians and the South Americans to take over at least the running of the Raven stations when they come online, as well as a few of the defense platforms, that will free up more men to run our fleet." He smiled then truly. "So yes, I do have an ulterior motive, but only the best ulterior motives."
"We need to also look at it from another perspective," Margaret Thatcher said, staring hard at Kirov. "Not only do we need to limit your military as it is, but we need to limit your military funding into the future."
"We are willing to agree to a curtailment of military funding and our military size back to the level it was 2 ½ years ago," Kirov said bluntly. "That is when the Dire Wraiths and their quislings began to truly push their agenda. That is a hard limit ladies and gentlemen, there is no chance I could sell anything beyond that to my fellow Duma members. Russia will be severely weakened by this war; we all know and acknowledge that at this point. But there is a difference between that and letting you take the means with which we could defend ourselves."
For a moment the room fell silent as the representatives looked up the numbers they were talking about, using High Note's connection to the world Internet to do so. Harry didn't bother though, he just looked at the man quizzically. "Defend yourself against who? More aliens? Your people would do a better job defending all of the earth under the Earth Defense Force than attempting something on your own. And before you say anything, any rumor you might have heard about me making separate deals on this topic with the Americans is extremely limited in scope. Yes, they have the means to defend themselves, if by defend themselves you mean actually firing back at the attackers. If you mean defending themselves as able to protect their citizens, that is a no."
"As much as I do not like the confrontational manner in which he spoke, I have to say that Harry is correct," Storm said, shaking her head at his undiplomatic way of speaking. Even the president was wincing a little, but he wasn't discounting what Harry had said. "The best way to defend the planet from space is to keep the enemy's ships from making orbit. If they can do that in enough numbers, any defense you can raise on the planet is doomed to failure. He who controls the orbitals controls the world. And at the moment, none of you can get anything into orbit nearly as easily as Harry can."
"There are internal threats as well," Kirov said without missing a beat. "And furthermore, the importance of our army in relation to both the defense of the nation and to our society cannot be understated. You Americans have your gun and your Fifth Amendment. We have our army and its history of defending the motherland. They are equal in our eyes."