2024-07-16: Zukertort Opening
- Cutscene: Zukertort Opening
- Cast: Sayla Mass, Gilbert Durandal (NPC)
- Where: Durandal's Office, PLANTS
- Date: July 7, 0099
- Summary: Sayla finally accepts a discreet invitation from Gilbert Durandal for a game of chess and to find out what he wants- to appoint her to a position within the League. After her initial surprise, Sayla gives it due consideration- as long as Durandal can live up to his end of the bargain. (Accompanying news post included at end.
July 7, 0099
"Doctor Mass, I'm glad you've finally taken my invitation for us to meet."
Councillor Gilbert Durandal cuts a sharp contrast from Patrick Zala in his presentation, with his long unruly dark hair, the elaborate robes which defy the more 'warhawk' style of the former Chairman of the Supreme Council, to something decisively more peace time in it's ultramodern presentation.
However, it is still no Siegel Clyne, whose choices as a moderate made him look far more approachable in comparison to this elegance.
Rather than sit behind a desk, he motions towards the two seats within his office, surrounding a chessboard, before settling in one side, choosing the black, while leaving Sayla Mass with the White.
"From what I understand, you're a woman who prefers to get straight to the point, though, first I wish to ask if you play? And second, if you'd mind a game while we converse? I always feel like a round of Chess tells me more about a person and what they value, than any number of words."
Taking a seat, he apparently has chosen this rather than the simple back and forth of conversation.
Sayla was dressed rather conservatively today- a tailored black pantsuit, with a waterfall cravat instead of a tie and a simple brooch- and black flats instead of heels, there's no real point bothering with them in the lower gravity of the colonies.
"Good morning, Councillor Durandal." Sayla says as she enters, politely as ever. "I must say, it was rather a surprise- I'm rather used to organizations such as the League wanting to keep their distance from me, at the moment." She takes a long look at Durandal, assessing him as ably as she can. "And it was rather a coincidence that I just happened to arrive at Asticassia a day early."
There's an edge to her voice that indicates a doubt of how much of it was chance.
"You understand correctly," Sayla says, her tone calm. "But I'm not averse to a game. I can't say I'm much of a player, admittedly. I haven't played regularly since I was a child." It's perhaps a surprise that Sayla would agree.
But as much as Durandal can learn from how she plays, there's much Sayla can learn of Durandal from how he interprets. "I'd rather not have timed turns while we're conversing, though."
The majority of her attention will be on the conversation, after all.
There's a luxurious chuckle at her statement about organizations such as the league being averse to Sayla Mass, from the Councillor, "A pity, but it does say something about how dysfunctional government can truly be. Beholden to the interests of those who would profit from the suffering of the people they proclaim to serve."
He does not mince words at least, it would seem, but is he being genuine? His reforms would at least indicate such, as does SAL's investment into the poorer Colonies that had languished for decades.
"Naturally, I wouldn't enforce time limits on a private game like this. As for that day at Asticassia, I didn't expect you to attend at all. To speak frankly - I prefer to stay away from the Ring if I have the option, but unfortunately Benerit has made that impossible."
Durandal settles in, allowing Sayla of course to move first, as White. His fingertips comfortably lacing together. "If I might ask, what made you decide to finally accept my invitation?"
"I am very familiar," Sayla says. She doesn't waste time with her first move- Knight to F3. A flank opening. "I've had experience from both sides of the equation after all." After all, Sayla's disastrous political career in the Early 0080s is hardly unknown- and she expects Durandal to have done his research.
At the same time, she leans on her powers a bit- not for the game, but for gauging Durandal. She can't rely on them, certainly, but in a situation like this, she'd simply prefer an edge. Perhaps Durandal's prepared for that as well, admittedly. But nothing ventured...
"...An instinct I share," Sayla responds, calmly. "Unfortunately, many of the foundation's largest donors live on the ring- and that's where my daughter's school is. I find it's rather non-optional myself." There's a hint of resentment there.
Sayla smirks, slightly. "Well. A combination of factors, if I'm being frank. I had been considering stepping away from the Foundation for some time now- it seems to be doing worse for my association than better." Entirely truthful when you're so reliant on Earthnoids- and Earthians, really- for funding, her family ties would seem detrimental. "But I can't say the idea of sitting on my hands really appealed. As much as Leina would appreciate me taking a break."
She moves to make eye contact with Durandal. "And I will admit to some curiosity as to what interest the League had in someone like myself. After all, the world knows who I am thanks to Martha Vist-Carbine. So I want to know who you're interested in, Councilor Durandal."
Her gaze intensifies, hardens, honed suddenly like a knife. "Is it the doctor? The war hero, the spy, the philanthropist, the failed politician?" She's watching him like a hawk, sensing for any reaction she can find. "Or... is what you're after Zeon Zum Deikun's daughter? Singularity 02's mother? Heart-2 of the Shuffle Alliance?" A pause. "Char Aznable's sister, perhaps?"
She gives him a moment before speaking again.
"Is it Sayla Mass you want, Councilor Durandal, or Artesia Som Deikun?"
The only thing that Sayla's body language gives away is that how he answers is important- but not which answer is correct.
Direct to the point indeed.
"Stepping away? Ah. Truly a shame, I'd always admired your work at the Foundation... helping so many victims of these times to find opportunities they otherwise wouldn't. You're a woman driven not to accept that the world we live in must be this way."
However, as she makes eye contact, he matches it in turn, a smile upon his lips, as she turns that knife upon him. He doesn't move to interrupt, perhaps a rare quality for a man in power when a woman is speaking as such to him.
"Why is it that you 'failed'?" He eventually answers her, "It is because the Federation government was not truly interested in someone like you. Old money aristocrats uninterested in solving problems, their worthiness granted to them solely by accident of their birth."
Sliding a chess piece into play, a pawn as his first move, a single row over from Sayla's own gambit, he continues to speak.
"It is said that what one calls themselves is the measure of their existence, so of all the titles spoken, which one would you grant yourself? Because my sole interest is in the woman that would reject that this world must be one of endless war for the people who live within it."
As his hands part, he leans forward slightly, as if to match her gaze, and to show he's taking her seriously, despite answering a question with a question.
"What then, would this woman choose to call herself? If it is Sayla Mass, Secretary of Colonial Development and Refugee Affairs... then I would be honored to have you, but if you feel your destiny lie elsewhere..."
There's a ghost of a smile on his face.
"... then I will be disappointed, but I will respect your decision, and still enjoy our conversation and game, I think."
Pawn to G3.
"I intend fully to return one day," Sayla says, calmly. That is her intent. "But right now my presence is more hindrance than help. And the organization will hopefully outlive me- or no longer be needed." The latter is her preference. "I need to make sure it stands without me now, rather than later. While changes can be made, if need be."
"A compelling reason, but not wholly true, Councilor Durandal." Sayla's response to Durandal is not without teeth. "It is not merely 'moneyed aristocrats'. I was et up to fail, it's true... but to place the blame on a few elites is misguided. After all, the Britannian government and Romefeller are strong-" Of course she knows about Romefeller. Surprisingly few do. Is this a test as well? "But there are so many people beyond just the moneyed and powerful who benefit. And there is my own foolishness in not seeing that I was little more than a distraction from the Titans creation."
She listens carefully, as Durandal speaks of names and titles. On which she would choose for herself-
And places a very interesting option on the table indeed. One so interesting, that Sayla can't help but laugh. "Really, Councilor? Your sense of humor is sharp one- even if I can appreciate the joke."
It's not entirely a test- the reaction was involuntary- but she tries to read Durandal's reaction
"...but it seems to be a genuine offer." Sayla says, after a moment. "That's rather a surprise." She takes a few moments to consider.
"Let me ask you straightforwardly, Councilor. What am I a distraction from?"
"Not wholly." He admits, "However, even if they are not the sole contributing factor... their influence is insidious upon steering even the best intentioned politician off-course."
Is it a test? He does not say.
"The Titans... Blue Cosmos. The various culture wars that distract, and divide us, so many of them can be traced back to that singular organization and the divisions within them. It would hardly surprise me if even Degwin Zabi was nudged in a certain direction by their influence."
As she laughs, his smile widens subtly, as he speaks in a tone almost apologetically. "I'm afraid to be in my company is to be asked to indulge my small jests, from time to time, but hopefully I can prevail upon your kindness to tolerate those whims."
It's clear he's still joking at least, if only a little. His fingertip slides over to a pawn, which he taps up. It's clear he's skilled, but he's not playing the game to simply make sport of his opponent.
The exchange is instead a spirited conversation.
"A fair question." He replies after a moment, to the sharp inquiry, "Honestly? It is my wish for you to be a distraction for those who would measure your existence as a failed politician or a self-righteous philanthropist by allowing them to underestimate you. But... if that answer doesn't satisfy your instincts..."
There's a momentary chuckle, "...then it is my fervent desire is that you thoroughly distract those who would fan the flames of war, by holding them to account with the powers I would grant to you, and backed by the resources of my office, which will support you. To be a check, upon the establishment... including myself."
It could perhaps be that he's being insincere, after all scapegoat politics is how the world has worked for so long, in order to distract from government dysfunction.
But per Sayla's best intelligence of the man, that isn't how he himself has operated so far, even if various parts of NUNE still do.
"...Entirely possible," Sayla admits, perhaps a touch too carelessly. "I have always wondered what made him murder my father, after all. Was it simply greed and lust for power, outside influence, long held resentment?" She continues her setup, Bishop to G2. "But ultimately, it doesn't matter either. Even had he been manipulated, he did what he did. And now he is dead, and the scars he left still ache."
Sayla does actually seem more comfortable with Durandal, when he talks about his jests. "I think I can manage that, Councilor. Just as long as you can tolerate a sharp tongue sometimes in return."
It's there that Durandal's proposal becomes fascinating and darkly humorous once again. "...So, a check and balance against the worst of the world while we try for something better, then?" There's a dryness in her voice, and some exhaustion.
"You'll forgive me if I have my doubts, Councilor. After all, if I am to be a check against yourself, I would presumably need more backing than just you." She can see the obvious trap, but... it doesn't align with what she knows. And there's... a faint chance for something better,
And a faint chance is better than none.
"...Will this be an appointment simply by you, or with the agreement of the rest of the League councilors?"
This is the question that might be the final stage. Whether this conversation falls apart now... or somehow goes a step further.
"And yet - we continue in the same pattern. The riots in the wake of your father's death as a pretense for a crackdown. The crackdowns as an excuse for the Principality... Junius 7, Patrick Zala... part of the complexity of this world I believe is a fabricated narrative, for some things can indeed be simple. Earthnoid versus Spacenoid. Natural versus Coordinator. That genocide has not been proposed as a final solution for Side 3, I am certain was only because of the arranged marriage between Neo-Zeon and Vist... with Romefeller officiating the nuptials..."
Again he smiles at her statement, "Can you claim it's a role that you're not already intimately familiar with?" As if /implying/ at least that he understands her prior command role, but he is discreet enough not to say the specifics aloud. "That I'm asking you to do so openly, I understand, is asking much of you."
She expresses her doubts, and nods, gesturing at the board as she notes the word 'check' again, a common theme here. "I'll be presenting my nomination to the League. It is my belief that I can achieve 'unanimous consent'." That's... a bold statement to make, as it would bypass the need for even hearings, "There may be some who will grumble that you are a 'Natural' and others who will worry about the optics of that appointment after you confirmed your identity to the public."
There's a sedate look on his features, but in his eyes something else… confidence? Passion? It's hard to say, "But I believe that who we choose for certain roles is a statement of what our values truly are, and if ours is for our governance to guide the victims of these times to happiness... then I know for certain that there is no better choice for this one, than you."
"...Some things, perhaps." Sayla admits, but she is a woman who struggles with the idea that things could be that simple. "And there's such a thing as obfuscating complexity- but one cannot rely on that being the case." ...Admittedly. The number of people who have charged into complex problems with simple solutions and it turning out alright...
...she has always been prone to overthinking.
"...Hmm. You're not doing this by halves, are you Councilor?" She muses. As the game progresses, she keeps moving one pawn up the board, moving her promoted pieces in formation to make more appealing targets or careful traps. It's... unorthodox play.
She is devoted to getting that Pawn to where it needs to be, however.
"Still, the League is more than just the PLANTS. Purely coordinator appointments would surely cause conflict with other Sides and business interests, after all." And to some degree, Sayla only cares about what Coordinator supremacy groups have to say in that she can learn best how to undermine them.
...Probably another reason Durandal is looking at her, specifically.
Durandal's praise feels a bit like flattery to her, but... there is a lot of good she could do here. And having backup plans- other places to run to, just in case.
She sacrifices her queen to avoid an early checkmate- and the pawn reaches the end of the board and promotes to a queen itself. It's a strong move, and she seems a few moves from mate- "...Hm." She says, looking at the board, with a light frown, reassessing things.
"...Alright, Councilor. You can consider me interested. If you can get assent... then I'll give the offer due consideration. But I want full terms and expectations in advance, any contracts and agreements too. You'll excuse me for wanting to consult my lawyers- and my family- about this."
Durandal plays well, but perhaps she does get the impression he's holding back some, yet definitely not to allow her to win. It is in his mind, a conversation just with a layer of competition. He plays primarily with elaborate strategies utilizing his pawns, while the King remains protected. He does smile when she sacrifices her Queen, as if in his mind the game was won for him in that moment, more than any other.
He doesn't smugly announce Checkmate or anything, it's just matter of fact.
"For someone who states they're not much of a player, you play far better than the majority of those who have sat there." He tells her, and offers his hand to shake. "Naturally, I'll have the papers sent right away for review. I look forward to working together, Doctor Mass."
Sayla can't help herself smirking at Durandal's comment. "...For better or worse, chess is one of the things my brother taught me. Though... we've developed very different games, by now."
Still, there's a certainty behind Durandal's words there. "We'll see. It seems a bit early to declare two victories, after all."
There's only one outcome left on the board right now: Checkmate in three, to Black.
-=-=-
July 16, 0099
True to his word, he somehow obtains unanimous consent, it's easy enough for Sayla to even gain the transcript. Like he stated, there were a few objections before the vote, some based on her being Char Aznable's sister, others on her record as a 'failed politician'.
"I ask this body, what does it say to those we govern if we reject someone out of hand based on the 'optics' of her bloodline rather than merit. As the former Federation High Commissioner for refugees, Doctor Mass worked tirelessly against a government body that had no interest in solving problems, in guiding the victims of these times to happiness. As the founder of the Yumi Foundation, she continued to do just that, even without any powers granted unto her by the government. The Federation showed what they valued by running a woman that fought for the people out of politics - just as they did by sending people, both Natural and Coordinator, to the Colonies destitute and voiceless. Today, we stand in solidarity to prove to the people of Space our values, of our worth in times when they have no reason to trust that we will do any better by them than our predecessors in leading them to a better tomorrow. For this reason and many more than I could recount in a single session do I ask this body for your consent."
While there were notably several abstain votes, from the people who had previously voiced the objections, every other vote cast confirmed the nomination.
-=-=-
Excerpt from Political Pulse, ORTV Business and Politics Channel, 16 July 0099
"...and it's expected that the Vajra attack will lead to significant downturns when the markets open on Monday."
"Moving on to Spacenoid affairs, the Space Assembly League has announced the appointment of Dr Sayla Mass to the position of Secretary of Colonial Development and Refugee Affairs, the vote passing with unanimous consent. Following the announcement, the Yumi Foundation released a statement that Dr. Mass would be taking leave from her position as Director of the Foundation in order to focus on her new position, with the board to appoint an Interim Director within the next few weeks."
"In recent years, Dr. Mass' identity was revealed to be Artesia Som Deikun, Daughter of Politician and Philosopher Zeon Zum Deikun. While some Spacenoids are welcoming the appointment, there is trepidation in some circles about the appointment of the sister of the war criminal Char Aznable to such a position."
"In addition to her charity work, Dr Mass served on the Earth Federation's White Base during the One Year War and sat as the Earth Federation's High Commissioner for Refugees from 0082 to 0084, making this Dr. Mass' second foray into politics. In an official statement, Dr Mass thanked Councilor Gilbert Durandal for his efforts in petitioning for this appointment, and announced her intent to focus on reconstruction and better conditions for refugees, especially those displaced by the destruction of colonies or the Federation's Man Hunting policies."
"We go now to our panel for their opinions. So, pundits, what are your thoughts on this high profile appointment from the League?"
-=-=-
The tone of the coverage is generally the same, but a few outlets differ. PLANT media is unusually favourable of the appointment of a Natural to such a position, while Britannian Media highlights Dr Mass' connections to Noted War Criminal Char Aznable and highlights her 'lame duck' political career.
A noted outlier is an opinion column from a Republic of Zeon Political Columnist, declaring this to be 'Princess Artesia' turning her back on her home colonies to court the Orbital Ring elites- a repetition of her 'betrayal' in the One Year War. The story itself gains traction on morning and daytime television networks and as an easy piece to comment on to generate engagement.