“This is why I stood firmly against sending manned missions deeper into the mainland!”

“And what exactly do you expect us to do when supplies run out? It’s an absolute miracle we’ve lasted even this long!”

“Then we will begin systematically colonizing the region, and wipe out anything that stands in our way.”

“You act as though we know for certain the aircraft was deliberately attacked. We haven’t even received a full report…”

The conference hall was the most chaotic it had been since the decision ten years prior to begin exploring outside the Compendium’s own territory. All thirteen councilman's entourages were present, and had nearly taken over the discussion. The Conservative Isolationist Party had taken the opportunity to push their anti-expansionist agenda, while the expeditionary parties were desperately fighting to maintain control of what few resources they had been given. The liberal and communist parties were vying for full control of all aspects of the government, declaring a state of emergency was necessary if the supply shortages were to be resolved.

Acting chancellor Gilbert Clyne sighed deeply from his slightly raised position at the circular table. He was a tall and rather slim man with well trimmed side swept blonde hair. He kept his face cleanly shaven, and his sharp blue eyes watched the world like a hawk. Despite his appearance, he was rather disheartened and disconnected from the current goings on around him.

Little more than squabbling and bickering had been achieved in the last hour of the emergency meeting of the Diet. He had feared this would happen as early reports began flooding his office. The full details were still unknown yet, despite this fact, many of the members acted as if they had foreseen the unfortunate events and thus deserved more pull within the machinations of the Compendium. It was all the movings of short sighted men and women vying for power over each other.

“Councilman Varth.”

“Chancellor.”

“Please councilman, no need for hostilities,” Gilbert leaned closer to the leader of the Liberal Expeditionary Party on his right, “We are all in this together.”

“No hostilities,” the councilman looked around and lowered his voice, “I can’t act overly friendly in this situation, you know that.”

This was true. Rumors of favoritism or collusion would act as a poison, and only slow the government even further. Not that such a thing existed between these two. While Gilbert was partial to any party that was pro-expeditionary, he was on the conservative side of things. The two men had a rather pleasant friendship outside of official capacities thanks to Varth having been mentored by Gilbert's father, but within the Diet they were often opposed. While it was not exactly public knowledge, many representatives suspected the two were far closer than their political ideologies might suggest.

The squabbling and shouting continued as the two men held their quiet discussion. Councilman Varth was almost entirely gray, with a large handlebar mustache adorning his upper lip. He was a heavier set man, having developed eating and drinking disorders after an unfortunate accident during his time with the Compendium Expeditionary Forces had led him to seeing the deaths of several dozen trainees under his command. The wrinkles around his eyes were deep and full of tired sadness, but he was an often good natured host in private.

“What do you think? When will we receive a full report?”, the far older man asked the leader of the government.

“Hopefully at any minute,” Gilbert looked at his aid, who shook her head. “As for what I think, I will wait for the facts to come in.” The two men fell silent, listening to the noise of the Hall for several minutes.

“A right mess we’ve found ourselves in.” Varth was the one to break the silence.

“Yes, and I’m sure they will try and find some way of replacing me with another Chancelor. One who will hole us up here on our island until we are completely out of anything and everything we need.” As if to punctuate his point, a lesser representative of the SrC shouted over all others in attendance.

“We should not be risking such precious resources in lands outside our own! Salvaging would be pointless. It would take just as many resources to reclaim what was lost as would be retrieved. We should dedicate that funding to the development of new farming and production methods that will allow us a sustainable future here on our own lands!” Councilors from the other two isolationist parties nodded in agreement.

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“Further, the power to make such decisions should land squarely with the government, a body that should be decided upon only by those elites with the knowledge…”

“You go too far!” The SrC representative was cut off by a random Conservative member, and the conference room once again descended into chaos.

“I think you hit the nail on the head sir,” Varth chuckled as he sipped from his hidden flask of brandy.

“Oh woe is the plight of a man who must lead from silence.” The councilman raised his eyebrow at that.

“Then speak up.”

“Hmph, easier said than done. These lot are off in their own little echo chambers. If anything I’m sure the chancellor speaking up would only add fuel to the flame and make them shout until red in the face.”

“An awfully bleak outlook on your own government, wouldn’t you say?”

“How can you possibly think that learning more about the outside world would be anything but a positive? It speaks volumes to your lack of foresight that you wish to close off any discussion that doesn’t involve continuing the status quo!”

The cyclic nature of the Diet’s conversations filled the silence between the two men. Gilbert knew the older man was right. He had developed a rather negative attitude towards the councilmen and representatives that served under him. But how could he not? Time was running out for the Compendium if something wasn’t done. And yet, those that lead the whole of the nation continued to jump in each other's way, ensuring nothing was ever done in a timely manner.

“Perhaps you’re right, old friend. Perhaps I’m so jaded that there’s no hope of me thinking anything but ill of this lot.”

“And that, good sir, is why I always keep a bit of this on me,” Varth smiled in response, pointing to the outline of his flask where it sat in his breast pocket. At the same moment, one of Gilbert's attendants entered the hall and quickly arrived at his side.

“Sir,” he whispered into the chancellor’s ear, “the report has arrived.” A packet of papers was placed in front of him. Gilbert looked at them as he chuckled.

“I’m not so far gone I need liquid courage to help me out just yet.”

“Suit yourself.” The gray man shrugged, taking another sip. “But when that time comes, let me know. My estate makes a wonderful aged sakura brandy.”

Looking back at the attendant, Gilbert nodded. Clearing his throat the young man called out to those in attendance.

“Your attention please! I have just received the go ahead from the chancellor. This is a report on the incident involving flight O-T-O-T-one-one. The vehicle in question was a thirteen year old U-H-ninety-four Cinereous vertical take off and landing aircraft…” The report continued on, explaining the time stamps for all aspects of the aircraft’s journey that day, from initial checks all the way up to the crash. Gilbert followed along with his own set of the day's events, occasionally peeking at the rest of the members present. Few of them seemed even remotely invested in the actual information being presented.

Tch, they’ve already made up their minds. This was why he was so jaded. Almost none of those in attendance cared what happened to the people carrying out the orders given from this room. They only cared how these situations might serve their endless drive for power. A truly disgusting thought.

“At seventeen sixteen, flight O-T-O-Z-two-one, consisting of one nine year old U-H-ninety-four Cinereous arrived on scene. At seventeen seventeen all members of the ground forces were confirmed alive and uninjured. However, all members of flight O-T-O-T-one-one were confirmed dead, save one. Airman Julie Clyne’s body was not found amongst or near the wreckage. She has been listed, at this time, as M.I.A.”

The whole of the Diet fell silent and every eye fell upon the Chancellor. He continued to stare at the name written down as missing in action. After several tense moments, he took a deep breath.

“Continue please.”

“R…Right. At seventeen twenty-five…” The report continued for only a short while longer. After retrieval, the bodies and the ground forces were flown back to Tsushima forward operating base, where they had been debriefed. As the assistant fell silent, marking the end of the report, the assembled members began discussing the information quietly amongst themselves. The buzz continued for several unimpeded minutes before finally someone spoke up just loud enough to be clearly heard throughout the room.

“I find it hard to believe we answer to a man that cares so little for the well being of his own family.”

“And what exactly do you want from him? An emotional outburst, filled with tears and screams of ‘say it isn’t so’?” The incensed response was shouted from across the hall.

“Can we really trust a man who wouldn’t so much as bat an eye to the situation though?”

The Diet fell into chaos again as the main topic of discussion became whether or not a vote of no confidence in the Chancellor was necessary. However, the man in question heard not a word of it. Since the end of the report he only had eyes for the name on his copy of the events; the missing airman Clyne. His only daughter.