“The declaration for our independence from Marsada and Nikidia.” Sean tells him. “And after that’s finished, I’ll start on the other forms and red tape we’ll need.”
“And there is, P-Pro,” He stopped for a moment, trying to remember the word. “Protocol? Protocol for this? You fill out these papers and they just let you go? I find that challenging to believe.”
Moenir makes his way to the ship, looking for an easy to get on it.
Aina responds,
“I’m baking a delicious breakfast. Have you ever had baked oatmeal? You just need to add some brown sugar and some delicious berries and you have a great breakfast meal.”
He chuckles. “Not quite. It’s so future generations know how we run things, and so other foreign countries other than our two oppressors might actually recognize us as independent.”
Moenir might find that difficult, as the ship was not docked at the bay, just as the local Big Name had requested. They were in nearby water, with some crew still roaming the island.
However, if he’d come out by boat, he wouldn’t see an easy way on, but would see a man looking over the boat at him.
“Can’t say I have.” Sarah answers. “But it sounds good.”
“Ideally?” He asked. “All of Sadnadia, or at least enough to pressure our neighbors into no longer occupying us. Specifically Gathens at the moment, we have a delegation there now, though we have a few more we’ve been considering next.”
“So far they seem to. At least here.” He said. “And I know from experience that quite a few in Darsa do. The rest of the territory, though, I don’t know yet, though I can only imagine it to be the same. We’ll have to see.”