“Is this going too far?” Sedano asked the rest of the Supreme Giracción Council who sat around a large, circular black table in the highest sector of the Encima Government Building at the very heart of the capital. In the center of the table was a slightly lowered circle, a digital displayed across it. On the screen, a map of the Berkian Isles.
“Does it matter?” Ascención scoffed and crossed his arms.
“Of course it does” Sedano chirped back, “Our attempt to reintroduce The Maximilliat to the outside world has been met with a condemnation off the bat. Surely this can be a sign-”
“Condemnation from an *sskisser.” Nápoles shot back. “There are set to be those in Strangereal that support the genocidal regime that inhabits Volstokn today, especially ones that would benefit from an allyship with the Goths… and are despised by the rest of the world.” Nápoles stood behind his large red-velvet chair and placed his hands on the top of it. “You saw the dispatch from Valsnuriya- who had to reinforce that the Berkians don’t speak for the rest of Verusa.”
“We are talking about escalating the situation more than we already are!” Anger arose in Sedano’s voice.
“They threatened our people, Sedano! Not only did they once, but they did twice! That, cannot not stand. Let this be our testament to our stand against the Goths. Cut off the head of the snake, and everything else crumbles, but sometimes you need to rip out a few scales.”
“We can’t just come out of Isolationism swinging-”
“They make a fool of themselves out there. We defended our position and shot a snappy comment towards their unjustified condemnation, what did they do? Go on a tirade. And the rest of the world points and laughs. If there was ever a time to do this, it would be now. While they’re allyless with some territories in revolt.” Nápoles gritted his teeth.
There was a sigh from across the table, “As much as I hate to admit it, I kinda wanna see what happens.” De Santos said with a blank expression. Next to De Santos, Farin nodded their head in agreement.
“Let’s put it to a vote.” Nápoles almost-sarcastically said to the group. “Raise your hand in support of Operation Dragaminas.”
“I think we have an agreement then ladies, and gentlemen… an Order will be sent to the Supreme Navy post-haste.” Nápoles smiled devilishly. “Let the fun begin.”
In a matter of hours, two freighters from the nation’s foreign trade fleet would be borrowed from their state businesses, loaded up with special cargo, and given new crews before setting off on a long journey across the Cascade. Their journey and mission? Sail to Northwestern Verusa and pass through the strait that lies between the Berkian Island of Nordenstag and Province of Vest-Rampant-Oya, laying ascending moored-contact mines with plummets to harass Berkian naval and civilian ships. When a ship would draw near, the moored-contact mine would detect from its ocean-floor anchor and rapidly shoot towards the surface. While the ethics behind the mission were questionable at best, it would go on; the Maximilliat ships abusing the bounds of Territorial and International Waters to lay mines outside of Berkian Jurisdiction. Whereafter, the ships would head south towards Izumrudstvo or Valsnuriya to refuel then hug the coast back into the Cascade Ocean before slipping home.
The foghorn of the Juguetón blared as it left the Rosatiago Harbor with a mission like no other. Yet, every man and woman that helped the cause and risked their life on this mission would be rewarded properly. Flying The Black and Red Banner of the Maximilliat, the Seal of the Nation fluttering in the wind, it left.