Prime Minister Eleane Gifford of this Unified Electorates of Ainslie, is exactly what it continue reading her desk. Even regardless of the elections being months ago, she hadn’t quite comprehend the truth that she actually is leading a whole nation – one she’s represented for the international stage for so a long time. She browse the foreign affairs newspapers like nothing else, just attempting to start to see the responses of other nations to her domestic policy… When papers came through to the table, her first thought was the way the Gaelitic neighbours would respond, an undeniable fact that still bothered her a little. She knew the necessity to think about Ainslie and Ahnslens first, however the foreign affairs response was so ingrained that it had been almost a reflex at this time. Thoughts like these raced through her at once her morning walk across the paths on the foreshore reserve across the Burnett River.

In any event, she was quite liked.

The media knew never to bother her – her predecessor made that clear on his morning runs. It had been pretty funny he used to possess to run to obtain from the media. Right now though, they’ve learnt never to bother a Prime Minister early each day. Needless to say, a walk instead of a run would create a handful of chats while using locals – thankfully on her behalf these were quite sympathetic. Central Arnton more often than not voted for ACEGAD or for any STP. In any event, she was quite liked. So far as the standard frosty reception powerful Norlanders enter Wesland, it didn’t eventuate. The locals here had welcomed her in as you of these own. This comforted her a little, but what certainly didn’t was the inevitable stacks of papers that could land on desk each morning. Today was no not the same as the times before. She flicked through them, with the vast majority of the initial twenty pages reading “Southpaw Atoll” somewhere in it, with five of this pages being factsheets a University gave them.

“Okay… so get these folks if they’re available.

The next hour was spent reading the complete brief, before she got outside of her chair and gazed out onto the River Burnett. It had been almost 10am at this time, this means her aide was because of come in. Exactly like clockwork… 10am… “About Southpaw?”, she astutely replied. “May as well bring the band together. You have a phone or notepad handy? “Yeah, fire away”, the aide reflexively stated. Gifford looked up, smiled and returned her gaze towards the screen off to her left. “Okay… so get these folks if they’re available. FM Gerslin, Departmental Head for Sustainable Development, ATWI Callum Parkes, someone high up inside the ACCC, Departmental Head for Science, Departmental Head for Environment, Departmental Head Natural Resources. By enough time it had been 11am, the meeting room using its grand oak table was filled up with various bureaucrats and government officials. The aide returned towards the PM who he caught looking at the river again.

“All requested persons are here, Madarne.”, he remarked to some startled PM who quickly gathered her composure before replying. “Should be a slow morning. “Hello everyone. Many thanks for coming at short notice”, she announced as she sat down. “Now. I suppose my aide has ensured you each is current with Southpaw.”, to which she got a sea of nodded heads. “Simple, Madarne. Do we preserve, or do we try to profit.”, Callum, the former League ambassador who now was Ambassador for TWI stated. “Well, we’ve got a substantial level of NGOs itching down in Narara to greatly help IPNO setup the Atoll being an international park – it seems the Uni has read them in early aswell. “Reactionary…”, among the treasury advisors commented. “Perhaps, perhaps… to something that’s worth protecting. In the end, you don’t get five NGO leaders ringing very first thing each day after speaking with some Professor from the rural uni”, Foreign Minister Gerslin rebutted.