Seref Games

A message was sent to the Gulf, requesting a summit between the Socialist Republics and Gulf leadership.

"Sir?"

"Madam, please."

"Madam, we have a ... summit request. From the socreps."

"Well, ain't that some shit. What's it say?"

"It says, and I quote, 'We request a summit between the Socialist Republics and Gulf leadership.' End quote."

"That's lazy as hell, Yeoman."

"Not my fault, that's verbatim."

"That's verbatim, madam."

"No, you can call me Yeoman, madam."

"Cheeky. Send them back an extremely long list of demands, all of which are completely reasonable and in no way extraordinary, but must be met and confirmed before we'll arrive. Either that or they can just send a delegation to New Orleans, and send an itinerary. Make it sound fancy, though. None of that lazy stuff, Yeoman."

"Yes, madam."

And so it was.

Within a few days, the itinerary in New Orleans was confirmed, and once it was all so, Ambassador Daniel Kelly was on his way to New Orleans, unsure of what he'd find but pretty sure he'd be able to find some good alcohol in the area in case things went badly.

"Well now howdy!" The shout came from an extremely tall, almost Redwood tree trunk of woman. "I'm Juror Andrey, you can call me either Madam, Madam Juror, or Madam Andrey. First name is Elizabeth but never call me that, at least not until we're four hand grenades down."

Ambassador Kelly had been shuttled through to a bar whose name was pronounced with an accent he would not have been able to decipher, and then hurried into the meeting room which was naturally stocked with an abhorrent amount of liquor and a live turkey, which napped in the corner.

"It's my very intense pleasure to meet your, Ambassador."

"Likewise, Madam Juror, " Kelly replied, his own rather timid drawl a stark contrast to his host. "I'll say, it's refreshing to meet with someone like you instead of one of them Yankees. Now, I'm of the understanding the State Department was a bit vague when it came to our message, so I just wanted to clear it up. We in Atlanta need a source of oil, and pretty darn quick if we're gonna keep the lights on. I'm sure there's other things we can trade too, but that's the main thing we're looking for. Is there anything in particular y'all are looking to secure from us?"

"Ain't that some shit! Oh, pardon the language, Ambassador," she quickly amended, before, "As it just so happens we're liable to sell a whole metric Arkansas' worth of oil for something we like to call a partnership; you see, we're not too fond of how there are about four or five little remnant states intent on reunifying the country in spite of the clear and present wishes of said states all being separate from each other. You can see how very Poland we feel when neighbors to the west and east both seem to want to gobble up the middle in the name of the Motherland."

She opened a drawer built into the table they were at and pulled out a couple of folders. "Each of these is a proposal our Juries have put together. Proposal Alpha involves a straight up monetary compensation sort-a deal. We sell you some oil, you sends us some money. The pros and cons of that are mostly internal; we're still, ah, not entirely too sure how the rest of the world is gonna work with the whole money thing, and getting a ton of cash that may not be useful for the nation as a whole can have its drawbacks. But it's the safest, and stablest, option.

"Proposal Beta involves industry; rather than you supplying us with money, what we need is things produced - specifically, we would give you oil in exchange for the construction of naval ships beyond our normal capacity to construct. The dollar value would be pegged to the oil and any blueprints and associated technologies needed to construct would be effectively a gift to Atlanta.

"Proposal Gamma would be a strict swap for things we don't normally find round these parts, like iron and steel.

"Those are the big three; you and anyone who arrived with you are free to take a look at the plans, bring them back, confer, et cetera. Now, the one thing in common is that we need some sort of agreeance that we're not going to ship oil out to a neighbor who is planning on using that oil to jib us right in the kidneys."

Kelly adjusted his round glasses, taking a look over the three proposals in front of him. It was certainly something to think over, and thankfully the State Department had given him the full negotiating power to do whatever he felt necessary, a wise decision on Congress's end.

"Well, I can tell you right away that this first one ain't gonna work. We use currency mostly just for day-to-day stuff, the dollar doesn't have much worth once you start going above a hundred. I'll have to call the State Department and confirm this, but I think Proposal Beta here is gonna suit us just fine. It'll give a lot of our shipbuilders work, that kind of thing's more important than anything else."

"Unfortunately we're not exactly spymasters so we don't know how much oil you want nor how many boats we can get built for that. Give me some numbers on what you want, and how many boats you're willing to build of various shapes, and we'll get back to you with an approval or some such." She stuck her hand out for a shake.

"For the most part, a regular supply of 1 million barrels of oil per month should be sufficient to suit the needs of the Republic. As far as ships, if you'll give me a moment..." Pulling out a nice handy pen, Kelly whipped up a small chart, listing dockyards in the Republics and their capacities and slid it over to his host. "This shows what our unions can handle, and how long it'll take without any other orders. Of course, ships for our navy will have to take priority, but if all we've got are your orders, that's about how fast it'll go."

OOC: Essentially, you need the points to have the ships before I can start building any, and it's taken out of my industry for build times/rates.