The mission was a spectacle of calculated audacity, a demonstration of Scorpia's technological supremacy cloaked in the velvet guise of diplomacy. Operation Smoke and Mirrors was Pro-Consul Maximilian's gambit to neutralize the single greatest external unknown: the Kath Empire, the ancient, powerful rival whose anti-mana towers represented the only potential counter to Scorpia's defining technological asset, the Mana Shield System. Intelligence, Max knew, was worth ten thousand soldiers, and he intended to pay for that intelligence with a handshake and a promise.
The massive Scorpian airship, designated The Sovereign, was the mission's primary asset. Larger than any building in the Kath capital, and protected by a constantly shimmering, low-frequency Mana Shield, it broke the sky above the ancient city with the silence of overwhelming power. The Kath Empire, rooted in old magic and tradition, was accustomed to conventional warfare and slow, land-based trade. The sudden, unannounced arrival of the airship—a vessel that defied their very understanding of physics and logistics—sent a visible shockwave through the capital. Citizens spilled into the streets, pointing and murmuring, their awe and fear a palpable energy that Ambassador Theron, the mission commander from the DEA (Department of External Affairs), intended to harvest.
Ambassador Theron, a figure of impeccable cool and deadly political precision, descended the gangway first, flanked by a silent honor guard of Scorpian Guard (Tier 5) personnel. The Kath Imperial Palace courtyard was a study in traditional opulence, filled with nobles dressed in heavy, layered silks and armor, their expressions a mixture of confusion, suspicion, and hostility.
Chancellor Varrus, the aging, rigid administrator of the Kath court, stepped forward, his eyes fixed with thinly veiled suspicion on the airship above. "Ambassador Theron," Varrus began, his voice dry and strained. "Your method of arrival is… unprecedented. We were not afforded the courtesy of advanced notice for a vessel of this size."
Theron offered a smooth, disarming smile, a product of rigorous DEA training. "Chancellor Varrus, please accept my profound apologies. In Scorpia, our advancements move faster than any courier's speed. The Sovereign merely demonstrates the efficiency we wish to share. We are here not to threaten, but to offer a partnership that will lift the Kath Empire out of the chaos of the fractured continent." Theron made sure to let the low hum of the airship's generators provide an audible counterpoint to his words, a constant reminder of the technological gulf between them.
The negotiations moved to the main hall, a vast, columned space where the ambient magic of the Kath Empire felt thick and ancient, a stark contrast to the clean, electrical precision Theron represented. The DEA had crafted a masterfully tempting offer: a limited Trade Agreement. Scorpia would purchase the Kath Empire's high-value minerals and exotic spices, offering in return access to advanced Scorpian agricultural techniques and limited quantities of phased-out technology—older, but still revolutionary, electrical components that could immediately boost the Kath economy and infrastructure.
"The Empire has withstood chaos for centuries, Ambassador," interjected Lord Kael, a younger, politically ambitious noble known to control the Kath military's arcane defenses. Kael's gaze was sharp, fixed on the shimmering shield of the airship visible through the high windows. "We are not impressed by trinkets. Our stability is secured by the ancient powers, not your mere engineering. Specifically, your reliance on mana shielding is, well, vulnerable to our defensive network." Kael was subtly referring to the notorious anti-mana towers that ringed the capital, their existence the reason for Max's entire gamble.
Theron chuckled softly, a sound of gentle amusement. "Lord Kael, your anti-mana towers are indeed powerful—a magnificent feat of historical engineering. But Scorpia deals in the future of engineering. Our technology is not static; it evolves. We offer you not mere trinkets, but the fundamental blueprints of efficiency. Imagine your harvests tripled by automated Scorpian irrigators. Imagine your communication network moving at the speed of thought, not the speed of a courier on horseback."
He paused, leaning forward conspiratorially. "But let us speak of something far more compelling than efficiency, Lord Kael: air superiority. This vessel," Theron gestured again to The Sovereign, "is merely a logistics hauler. Yet it flies higher, faster, and safer than any vessel known on this continent. If the partnership proves fruitful—if the Kath Empire demonstrates the stability and dedication to progress that Scorpia values—Pro-Consul Maximilian may, one day, permit the sale of the low-capacity, hydrogen-lifted civilian airships. You could traverse your vast domain in hours, not weeks. Your influence would be absolute."
The offer hung in the air—a glittering temptation. Theron had successfully shifted the focus from the Kath Empire's current defensive capability (the anti-mana towers) to their aspirational future, cultivating a sense of technological deficiency and dependency. Several junior nobles in the room exchanged excited glances; the thought of bypassing decades of slow development was intoxicating.
Chancellor Varrus, however, remained cautious. "Ambassador, we will study your proposal, particularly the cost of these 'phased-out components.' But if Scorpia is so committed to this long-term partnership, you will require a permanent presence. Sending a letter via normal courier across the Central Region is... unreliable."
This was the opening Theron had been waiting for. He adopted a tone of practical finality. "Precisely, Chancellor. To facilitate this massive undertaking—the flow of goods, the transfer of technological knowledge, and the security of our staff—we require a permanent, inviolable base. Scorpia offers to purchase a significant parcel of land within your capital, slightly removed from the political center, suitable for housing our embassy and accommodating our personnel."
He continued, preempting any objection. "This embassy would ensure constant diplomatic contact and, crucially, secure docking for the logistical airships that would ferry these vital trade goods. It must be built to our specifications to handle the required power input for secure communications and logistical management."
The embassy, Theron knew, was the true prize. It was the Tier 3/DEA operational node. The diplomatic cover provided the perfect front for the Faceless Men and The Sisters to establish deep-cover identities within the Kath court and merchant class. The purchased land—a permanent, sovereign territory within the Kath capital—would allow ASOG specialists to discreetly install covert sensors and surveillance equipment. This equipment was specifically designed to analyze the frequencies, power output, and operational times of the surrounding anti-mana towers. Max was inserting a tiny, protected surveillance post directly into the heart of his enemy's greatest defense, turning the supposed vulnerability of his Mana Shield System into an intelligence opportunity.
Lord Kael spoke again, his voice now laced with deep suspicion. "You wish to purchase land inside our walls? Ambassador, that is... highly irregular. It gives Scorpia unprecedented access."
"It gives Scorpia the efficiency to conduct a massive, profitable trade partnership without the delays your current infrastructure dictates, Lord Kael," Theron countered, his voice firm. "We are offering the possibility of airships in exchange for a piece of ground for a building. The security of your capital, protected by your formidable anti-mana towers, is hardly threatened by a handful of diplomats and engineers, is it?"
The challenge was clear: reject the demand, and reject the technological future. The Kath Empire was caught between its ancient fear of foreign encroachment and its overwhelming desire to possess the power demonstrated by the gigantic airship silently hovering outside.
Chancellor Varrus stroked his beard, his face a mask of internal conflict. "We will convene the Imperial Council. We will have an answer before The Sovereign departs."
Theron offered a gracious nod, knowing the decision was already tipping in his favor. The intelligence operation was launched, and the clock was ticking.