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First Impressions
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
“His Imperial Majesty,” a guard announced, and Balakrishnan rose to her feet and bowed slightly as the Emperor, dressed in civilian clothes, entered the room. Vladmir took his seat at the table, and as she sat down, the Dhole-Akita had the chance to study him.
He looked a little older than his ten years implied, and she supposed that there were two causes for that; the burden thrust upon him, and the loss of his father. The leopard kitten was doing his best to keep up a mature façade and despite never having had children, Balakrishnan momentarily felt her heart going out to him.
The guard said, “Anulka-Mei Balakrishnan, Sir, your new Foreign Minister.”
She nodded. “Majesty.”
“Hello,” Vladmir said diffidently. He did a long, slow blink and took a breath. “Did you have a good trip? From Downtime?”
“Yes, Sir, I did,” the canine said. She remembered to smile. “I have a short list of names for our new ambassadors to the Colonial Government and the Kashlani – “
“Why are we sending them an ambassador?” the young Indochinese leopard asked, his change in tone almost instantly going from diffidence to anger.
Inwardly, Balakrishnan noted the shift. Outwardly, she smiled again. “I’m sure that the Council have told you, Sir, that it’s important that we keep talking with the Kashlani.”
“Why?”
“Well, Sir, we tried fighting them,” she said reasonably, “and that didn’t work out very well.”
A sniff. “No, it didn’t.”
“So we need to try to see if we can make friends again,” she said quickly, before the reminder of Felix being decapitated distracted Vladmir further. It was a struggle, she realized, to simplify the task ahead and make it understandable to a ten year old. Still, it was easier than dealing with his father. “We’ve been friends with them before.”
He nodded. “Moka says that if you hate your enemies, you’ve already lost.” Balakrishnan flicked her ears. She couldn’t recall anyone with that name on the Council or in the Cabinet. “And I don’t want to make mistakes.” Vladmir held out a paw. “Give me the list, please.”
“Of course.” She passed the sheet of hardcopy to him. “There’s also a list for an envoy to the Colonies, Sir.”
“Uh-huh, I see them. We need the Colonies.”
Balakrishnan nodded. “Yes, we do.” She paused. “Do you fight with your brother?”
“Sometimes.”
“And do you two make up afterward?”
“Yes.”
“That’s because you’re family. The Colonies are part of our family, and right now they’re hurting and don’t trust us.”
“They don’t?”
She shook her head. “So we need to reach out to them, and make friends with them again. Simple, right?” she asked with a smile.
“I don’t think it will be,” the youngster said. He stood up, and she scrambled to her feet. “You’re nice,” and with that he walked out of the room.
As soon as the door closed Balakrishnan asked the guard, “Who’s this ‘Moka?’”
He shrugged. “The gardener at the family estate.”
She barked a soft laugh. “One finds wisdom where one can, I guess.”
Balakrishnan left the room and headed back to the Foreign Ministry, allowing herself a small smile. It had been a good interview, and Vladmir seemed to have a favorable opinion of her. It was also little short of amazing that no one had gotten to him first to tell him all about her.
She could build from this beginning.
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
“His Imperial Majesty,” a guard announced, and Balakrishnan rose to her feet and bowed slightly as the Emperor, dressed in civilian clothes, entered the room. Vladmir took his seat at the table, and as she sat down, the Dhole-Akita had the chance to study him.
He looked a little older than his ten years implied, and she supposed that there were two causes for that; the burden thrust upon him, and the loss of his father. The leopard kitten was doing his best to keep up a mature façade and despite never having had children, Balakrishnan momentarily felt her heart going out to him.
The guard said, “Anulka-Mei Balakrishnan, Sir, your new Foreign Minister.”
She nodded. “Majesty.”
“Hello,” Vladmir said diffidently. He did a long, slow blink and took a breath. “Did you have a good trip? From Downtime?”
“Yes, Sir, I did,” the canine said. She remembered to smile. “I have a short list of names for our new ambassadors to the Colonial Government and the Kashlani – “
“Why are we sending them an ambassador?” the young Indochinese leopard asked, his change in tone almost instantly going from diffidence to anger.
Inwardly, Balakrishnan noted the shift. Outwardly, she smiled again. “I’m sure that the Council have told you, Sir, that it’s important that we keep talking with the Kashlani.”
“Why?”
“Well, Sir, we tried fighting them,” she said reasonably, “and that didn’t work out very well.”
A sniff. “No, it didn’t.”
“So we need to try to see if we can make friends again,” she said quickly, before the reminder of Felix being decapitated distracted Vladmir further. It was a struggle, she realized, to simplify the task ahead and make it understandable to a ten year old. Still, it was easier than dealing with his father. “We’ve been friends with them before.”
He nodded. “Moka says that if you hate your enemies, you’ve already lost.” Balakrishnan flicked her ears. She couldn’t recall anyone with that name on the Council or in the Cabinet. “And I don’t want to make mistakes.” Vladmir held out a paw. “Give me the list, please.”
“Of course.” She passed the sheet of hardcopy to him. “There’s also a list for an envoy to the Colonies, Sir.”
“Uh-huh, I see them. We need the Colonies.”
Balakrishnan nodded. “Yes, we do.” She paused. “Do you fight with your brother?”
“Sometimes.”
“And do you two make up afterward?”
“Yes.”
“That’s because you’re family. The Colonies are part of our family, and right now they’re hurting and don’t trust us.”
“They don’t?”
She shook her head. “So we need to reach out to them, and make friends with them again. Simple, right?” she asked with a smile.
“I don’t think it will be,” the youngster said. He stood up, and she scrambled to her feet. “You’re nice,” and with that he walked out of the room.
As soon as the door closed Balakrishnan asked the guard, “Who’s this ‘Moka?’”
He shrugged. “The gardener at the family estate.”
She barked a soft laugh. “One finds wisdom where one can, I guess.”
Balakrishnan left the room and headed back to the Foreign Ministry, allowing herself a small smile. It had been a good interview, and Vladmir seemed to have a favorable opinion of her. It was also little short of amazing that no one had gotten to him first to tell him all about her.
She could build from this beginning.
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Canine (Other)
Size 120 x 77px
File Size 47.1 kB
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