NationStates Jolt Archive

Imperial Palace, Kaer Askavi, Imperial Union of Cetaganda
Sector 99, The Ring of Powerfulness, Sol VII

"I honestly don't agree, Gregor. There's just something about them that I just don't like, that makes me distrust them." King-Consort Tarvi runs a hand through his hair as he paces about. "They're hiding something from us. Something big."

"I know, love. I don't feel good about it, either. But what do you suggest? That we kick them out? They'd still have their enclave on Terra, and we'd have a diplomatic disaster on our hands. We won't even touch the political fallout, given their popularity with the general population. It's hardly as though they're the only ones in this system that have secrets, for that matter," replies the Emperor from where he sits. He sighs and shakes his head. "Lord Alton thinks that it would be to our benefit to introduce the Rayverr to our allies and a few others. Unless you two or Lady Savanche can give me a solid reason for overruling him, I'm going to have to go along with it."

"Surely there's something from the telepaths or ForeSeers, Kyle," Tarvi asks Kyle Sadiason, who sits on the other side of the room. The Archmage only sighs and shakes his head. "Nothing solid, no. Vague feelings of unease, waves of alieness where there shouldn't be, odd mental linguistics here and there, an ominously-worded prophecy that may or may not apply. I can tell you that neither the weres nor the vampires trust them in the least. The dragons clam up entirely when asked about the Rayverr, for that matter."

Gregor nods to his cousin, then tells the pair, "That's it, then. Unless S.C. has something more to say, I'm going to go ahead and approve Lord Alton's plan. We'll take what precautions we can, but..." He trails off. "We'll deal with what comes when it comes. What about the guests? Lord Alton's provided a list of non-Trium states that he thinks we should use this occasion to improve relations with. Mostly familiar faces, with a few that are new on the 'brane."

Tarvi's face grows pained as he sits down. "Do we really have to invite you-know-who?"

"There will be three NDA members there already, so Alton thinks it would be worthwhile to invite them all to improve relations. Not inviting one specifically could be, well, delicate."

"Fine. I expected as much. Don't blame me when he sets off a reploid."

=+=+=

{{Secure YutLink / Tightbeam Communications}
x King Consort Tarvi Andivar (IUoCetaganda)
o Triumvirate of Yut, Non-Democratic Alliance, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

On behalf of the Imperial Union of Cetaganda and His Imperial Majesty Gregor V, it is my pleasure to announce a celebration to be held at the Imperial Palace on Saturday, $DAY&MONTH, in the Sixteen-Hundred and Sixth Year of the Imperial Common Era. This event is being held to celebrate our contact with the Vesh of Rayverr, an extra-solar species that has recently arrived in our corner of the multiverse, and to foster friendly international relations. It is our honor to invite your nations' leader or their representatives to attend.

Tarvi Mikhail da'Andivar yos'Vetinari
King-Consort
Imperial Union of Cetaganda

=+=+=

{Secure Land-line Communications}
x Emperor Gregor V
o Third-Daughter Green-Stone

Third-Daughter, I wish to inform you of a gathering of leaders that will be taking place next month. It is my wish to use this opportunity to introduce you, and by extension your nation and government, to a number of Cetaganda's allies and other friendly nations that are major players in Solar politics. I would suggest that you bring at least one human representative of Cvechiokal, to help reinforce the idea that the Vesh has good intentions in this system in the eyes of some of the more close-minded individuals who have been invited for politeness's sake. It is, of course, your choice. Representatives from any nation that you would like to invite are welcome as well.

Emperor Gregor V
Imperial Union of Cetaganda

(OOC: This is a closed RP, taking place several months after first contact, and presumably after whatever, if anything, happens involving the Territory in the other thread. Please, don't spam the thread with stupid tag posts. Just subscribe using the little button at the top of the thread.)

(Edit: For those wondering, the correct form of address for a written reply to Tarvi would be King Vetinari. In formal direct address, it would be Lord Tarvi/your highness. Gregor is Lord Gregor/your majesty.)

{Secure Land-line Communications}
xThidgahv-Soksot Lok'e'terr-Lixvox (Ambassador, Cetaganda)
o Emperor Gregor V (Imperial Union of Cetaganda)

Thank you for organizing this event. Hopefully it will aid us in relating to other nations in this system as well as we have related with your nation; your hospitality has always been excellent and we are indebited to you for it. I will gladly attend, and will bring Masjon Styger as you recommend; he is most qualified to assist me in representing the vesh.

Thidgahv-Soksot Lok'e'terr-Lixvox[/b] (Third-Daughter Green-Stone)

------===------

Closing the connection, she leans back into the large beanbag cushions that furnish the simple embassy of the vesh on this strange ringworld, royal purple-scaled hands tapping yellowed claws against each other as she concentrates on clearing her mind. Other cultures less alien would call it Zen; the art of clearing the mind for a purpose beyond that of mere meditation.

Time and persistence had always worked in the vesh's favor in the past. There is no reason to let a stray thought potentially ruin it now.

-----


=<Transmission Type: Diplomatic Communique>=
=<Destination: King Consort Tarvi Andivar, Imperial Union of Cetaganda>=
=<Sender: Foreign Minister James Seal, Imperial Commonwealth of Khenala>=

King Vetinari:

It would our pleasure to send our leader, Prime Minister Andrew Seal, to attend the celebration of new contact with the Rayverr. We are always deligted to foster new relations with other nations and this is a prime opportunity to introduce the Triumvirate to a nation which has previously had no experience with us. The Imperial Commonwealth of Khenala graciously thanks you for your invitation, and the Prime Minister looks forward to meeting you on $DAY&MONTH.

Regards,

Foreign Minister James Seal
First Assistant to the Prime Minister
Imperial Commonwealth of Khenala

[b]=<End Transmission>=
-----

###BEGIN TRANSMISSION###
~>Route: Mother - Vetinari, Cetaganda:
[Begin] {

I would be most happy to attend, if my attendance would be accepted.

If accepted, I will be represented by Omicron Blu and Xanone.

We are most interested in not only re-establishing ties with traditional allies, but we would also be honored in assisting said allies in welcoming new peoples into the system.

} [End]
~>Route closed
###END TRANSMISSION###

---
Mother
The Angelic Mainframe

Membership: Triumvirate of Yut, Deus Ex Machina Consortium

Agwene smiled down at the invitation. Cetaganda had been high on the list of countries she wanted to establish contact with, partially because of shared values, partially because of Danaan interest in the Triumvirate, and partially because Cetaganda was rumored to be home to a race of Sidhe essentially different from the Sidhe in the Resurgent Dream, perhaps bearing the same kind of relation Quendi and Tel-Quessir Elves bore to one another.

She didn't figure she could go herself. Agwene was able to leave the country much less these days. And now, now was especially busy, with the secret initiative being planned for the Atlantic, the consolidation of Atlantic friendships, the Sovereign States situation, the upcoming Parliamentary elections, the anti-terrorism moves, the cultural initiative, the launch of the interfaith movement, and about a dozen other things, all of which required her daily attention. It was a good sign, really. In the old days when she was able to flit from international party to international party, the nation had been weak in terms of actual international politics and had no serious involvement in need of supervision while domestic politics had been...well, the nation was stronger now. Enough said.

Still, a nation liked Cetaganda deserved to have royalty attend a function like this. She wouldn't send a diplomatic functionary to make first contact. After a moment, she smiled. She knew just who to send.

Your Majesty,
It is with the deepest regret that I must inform you that I will be unable to personally attend the event to which you have so graciously invited me. However, I would hardly let the Danaan High Kingdom go without representation appropriate to the importance of initial diplomatic contact with the rulers and people of Cetaganda, of whom we have heard much worthy of honor. Correspondingly, I intend to send the Princesses of Farinor, Elayne and Catherine, to represent the Resurgent Dream at this event.

With sisterly regards.
Agwene ni Gwydion
High Queen of the Resurgent Dream, Commander of the Faithful of Dana, et al

<Communications to King Vetinari (Re: Invitation)>
{
<< I look forward to representing the Queendom of Zero-One at your diplomatic function, Your Highness. It is not every day I get to meet a new extrasolar species, after all, especially one as fascinating as this one, if the reports of your intelligence officers are to be believed.
}

http://www.womengamers.com/dw/sshock2_rev.jpg
S.H.O.D.A.N. v3.0 : MCP, Q01
Cetagandan Duchess of Marilac

"What do we know of these Rayverr?"

Garbo shrugs. "Very, very little. They were creeping around the perimeters of both Earth and Mars Theatre for a while in corvettes, then the Cetagandans made successful contact. They've never been hostile towards our own interests, but they have waged two 'peacekeeping' campaigns that look a bit too imperialistic for my blood."

The kzintosh raises an eyebrow, soft noise of curiosity rumbling up from the top of his chest. "Hrrm?"

"Well, they stomped on the old heartlands of The Sean Empire--remember them?"

"Ahh, yes. ClemsonTigers. They threatened us, if I recall." Speaker growls slightly, bordering on a snicker.

"Yup. The Rayverr solved that problem for us by declaring ClemsonTigers a rogue state and invading. They consolidated control over the old TSE colonial lands and recently ClemsonTigers fell off the r-brane."

"And," interjects Agent Simmias, who had been standing quietly off to one side, "a fractal rearrangement appears to have put the Vast immediately south and east of the Rayverr protectorate of Cvechiokal."

"A protectorate that doesn't look like it's going to vote to cast off Rayverr colonial rule," Garbo continues. "That's completely out of sync with the attitudes we observed before the occupation. Something's not adding up."

"If it is not adding up...?" The Supreme Emperor looks down at his intelligence advisor, leaving the question unsaid.

"Can't infiltrate the entire universe, boss." Garbo smirks. "Cvechiokal is so beside our interests that there's no investment return, especially when it's just my infinite paranoia that needs assuaging."

"Reports do indicate," the charcoal-uniformed OPO agent offers, "that they do have an innate psionic potential; they are at least capable of telepathy, although it is linguistic rather than conceptual... mostly. Reports conflict. We could dispatch Agent Hesche to accompany you, just in case."

The kzintosh holds up one broad hand. "Enough of that," he says simply; "the Cetagandans are valued allies and their own psions potent. If there is a threat, they can be depended on to protect us. No offense to our own service that way, but we must respect their security capacities on their own soil, as friends."

Simmias nods. "Understood."

"So, you're going?" Garbo asks without concern or doubt, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe to Speaker's office. "As if I have to ask."

"As if you do" is the kzintosh's only response before he chuckles softly and sits down behind his desk. "Now, Agent Simmias, what is this you wished to report about unusual feelings from customs locations?"

The Intelligence Advisor nods his understanding as he idly swings himself out the door with an easy kick of his leg, hands stuck into his pockets while the uniformed psion takes the center stage, checking notes off of his monocle display. "Yessir. It isn't exactly anything common, but occasionally our roving OPO checks are picking up unusual telepathic signals, usually on liners from Cetaganda and Machiavelli Station. We thought it was just personal error, but reports are cropping up a little too often with a little too much correlation for us to merely discount them..."

* - * - *

--<Transmission Type: Standard Diplomatic Communique>--
-<Sender: Supreme Emperor Speaker-Rrit, FSS>-
-<Destination: King Vetinari, IUC[b]>-
--<Subject: Diplomatic Event With The Rayverr>--

Those who have gained your trust and friendship are deserving of our own as well. I shall come on behalf of the Segments, especially as Advisor Abd-Al-Haqq is out on a mission. Hopefully this meeting will set a friendly tone for all future relations between us and the nation you wish to introduce us to.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/scolopendra/speaker-to-animals.gif[b]Supreme Emperor Speaker-Rrit
Chief of State
Federated Segments of Scolopendra

--<End Transmission>--

Mater rolls her shoulders to herself as she receives her great-grandaughter's missive, a simple, terse message of Giftspeak. The Cetagandans had their own mindspeech, separate from the Gift but vaguely similar to it, and it is for this reason that Mater spends so much effort calming her Third-Daughter, making her supple and compliant, not thinking overmuch. It is almost certain we are being watched, she thinks to herself, and we cannot give ourselves away. Who knew that the ability to see the Gift could be so common?

Such a sense was not common in Cvechiokal, and so that territory quietly accepted the Gift and is now better for it. The people happier, part of a loving vesh that they serve through effort and are rewarded through contentment, mutual effort expended so the vesh may grow. From those that sense, there is fear, Mater muses with a soft, wry ululating hiss. Why should they fear what their own philosophers admit that they work so hard to attain?

Looking up, she tries to spot the yellow dot in the sky that is Sol, knowing full well it may not have even risen over the horizon yet. Internal peace, quiet contentment... that is the goal of the vesh, and it is only right that we help others attain it.

Working towards that mutual effort for internal peace would be these meetings, concentrated diplomacy, trade deals and all the things that are considered natural exchanges between veshlo around Sol.

That is Green-Stone's duty. She will perform it well.

Catherine and Elayne held hands as they took their seats aboard the transport vessel. Catherine smiled over gently. "This should be interesting, if nothing else."

Elayne nodded slightly. "Indeed." The vessel took off slowly, building speed as it headed for Cetaganda.

"So we will send a representative?" Amdassador Bosska looked into the eye of Emperor Gorrm. An eye that seemed more weary than it once had in the past. The hardships of rule were borne easily by Kraah. I hope his hatchling is as durable. Bosska shakes his head slightly, casting off the stray thought.

"Yes. I am quite deluged with Imperial matters here. Send one of your best diplomats, Bosska. I will send one from the Court here." The datapad is keyed, and a list is scrolled down until it lands on a name Gorrm seems pleased to see. "Ah, yes. Chancellor Ghaaro Twaarl. She will fit the task quite well." After all, if intel serves me well, these Rayverr may have psychic ability. Why not a Grass-Walker among them? One eye lands on Bosska, who stands, bows, and makes his way to the chamber's exit.

**********************************************************

{Secure YutLink / Tightbeam Communications}
o King Consort Tarvi Andivar (IUoCetaganda)
x Imperial Offices (Sslaa V)

Good cycle to you Consort Andivar,

An officer of the Diplomatic Corps will be in attendance, as well as an officer of the Imperial Court. Both are anticipating a most interestibg encounter both with the nations within the Trium, those not within our esteemed group, and these Vesh of Rayverr of whom we know little.

If there are any particular cultural items of note in advance we should know of, please forward these notations to the Guaah DiploCorp Offices of Advisor Bosska on Sol III in order to avoid an international and possibly inter-stellar incident.

May the Path open for you.
Emperor Gorrm
{Link closed}

TSMIT Broadcaster
Encryption: Triumvirate Standard
Broadcast type: open, diplomatic
To: Tarvi Mikhail da'Andivar yos'Vetinari, King-Consort Imperial Union of Cetaganda, Triumvirate of Yut
Return transmission band: Open
IDENT: Devon Treznor - Treznor

Tarvi,

It is with pleasure that I indicate my willingness and ability to attend. I look forward to meeting your new friends and fully expect that we'll find ourselves with excellent relations.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v311/SpaceGhoti/Treznor/Devon.jpg
Devon Treznor
Emperor
<end transmission>

Imperial Palace, ect, ect.
Early evening

While on the surface this sort of event may seem reasonably simple, in reality it is astoundingly complex. Simply planning what dishes to serve, for example, can be a major task in and of itself. The humans can eat normal Cetagandan dishes, barring religious prohibitions or allergies, while Speaker-Rritt, a kzintosh, needs a dinner higher in protein and less cooked, the Rayverr must avoid citrus, and Sakkrans can eat virtually anything so long as its in very large quantities, up to and including other guests (this would be rude, however, and thus is Not Done). Security arrangements must be negotiated with a half-dozen security forces as well, transportation to and from secure landing pads arranged, and escort ships assigned to anyone who doesn't have their own and wants one. Decorations must be chosen, staff prepped on correct manners of address, and a thousand other tedious chores must be seen to. A few events spice up the preparations, such as the fact that the Cetagandan and other Triumvirate Earth-theater fleets were apparently preparing to ortillery Iraqstan into slag while simultaneously also being on completely normal footing because of Yet Another Temporal-Fractal Anomaly, but otherwise tedium (and occasionally panic) reigns.

The gathering is taking place one of of many outdoors terraces in the palace, and is which is large enough to be comfortable but small enough to encourage mingling. The lights, walls, and other features all all solidly built and decorated with in an elegant and fairly austere style (and conceal numerous security systems). There is a considerable amount of plantlife throughout the space. The terrace also has an excellent view of the city's towers, and both Saturn and the Arch are visible in the sky as day turns to night. There is a bar near the entrance and in one corner a live band is playing softly.

"You've done a good job, Tarvi," says Gregor as he checks over his formal uniform one last time. "Aunt Alise couldn't have done better herself."

His husband nervously grins and adjusts the circlet on Gregor's head slightly. "If you say so. I'm still not sure I've got the hang of it. Most parties I have experience with required little more planning that making sure there was enough alcohol to get everyone completely pissed."

Gregor chuckles. "Trust me, there's not much difference between that and your average diplomatic dinner these days." Before he can say more, he is interrupted by a voice from a nearby lamp. "My lords, Lady Mallory has arrived, and the other guests will be here shortly."

"Thank you, Bolt," replies Tarvi to the AI manager of the palace and city. "Well, that's our cue. Once more onto the breach and all that."

(OOC: Many, many, many apologies to everyone involved with this thread for the horrible delay. Work, writer's block, and a general desire to try to make this into something other than 'yet another NS party thread' resulted in a much longer time to start than I ever planned.)

>>>Transmission to: [Triumvirate of Yut Communicative Facilities] VIA {Trium Data Network[s]} <<<
||From: The Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs; Diplomatic Juncture c/o The Spire Transmission Redundancies||
||Re: Diplomatic invitation response ||





Having brought the matter before the Council of the Aengelistoria Dominica, Governor-General Byzainti has expressed in particular a desire to grasp an oppertunity at familiarising the Union with those allied to her cause but not often seen in such personal sorroundings. As such she has decreed a Kaeneian representative be made available to journey and take up the Cetagandan invitation without delay.

Due to our collective inexperience in such non-formal sorroundings and situations, I myself as Supreme-Overseer for the Office of Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs shall represent the Serene^Union in the coming celebration to the best of my ability and vision.

The Council does as a whole however, hold a curiousity towards those known as The Rayverr; there has been no contact between our civilisations and we have nothing more substantial than a name by which to call without even a description of the nature behind. We assume any such questions held by ourselves shall find satisfactory explanation at a later date.

My entourage shall be small, and I do not give thought to more than a single aide travelling at my side to render assistance. Precise details including estimated arrival time and any logistical correlation shall be forthcoming once our own preperations are completed to an end.


I declare this valid, on the First Sunrise of the Eighth Period, in the year of Earth Ascension Five Hundred Seventeen, in my capacity as Supreme-Overseer of the Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs.

Riordan Likonesse, Supreme-Overseer of the Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs, acting on behalf of The Aengelistoria Dominica.

Reviewed, and found to be agreeable in content, aim and purpose by the office of the Governor-General Sophia Byzainti; the First Sunrise of the Eighth Period, in the year of Earth Ascension Five Hundred Seventeen is this document transmitted with supreme authorisation.

"Who would've thought I'd be travelling to Saturn in my lifetime," muses Styger quietly to himself as he rides with Third-Daughter Green-Stone's entourage, bulky blue-carapaced Warriors under their merely supplemental metal plates and short yet willowy yellow Technicians. The Cetagandans were kind enough to offer transport to their palace, an offer quickly accepted by the vesh embassy, generally short on transport vehicles due to the Rayverr command economy being commanded to more pressing issues; the repair and improvement of Cvechiokal, readjustment after the military failure in Zackaroth. His statement goes unanswered, not out of impoliteness nor out of any lack to comprehend his words; instead, his companions simply know the statement was rhetorical and leave it at that.

It's simply something they're good at.

The rear end of transit is a simple affair, the entourage exiting first, then forming around the massive yet strangely lithe bulk of Green-Stone as she emerges from her conveyance. Three Warriors immediately form a sort of cordon around her (the avoidance of a full six of Warriors is due in a large part to symbolic deference to Cetagandan hospitality), armed with peacebound blades and firearms that end in the curious geometric tulip-blossom half-ovoids that Rayverr weapons are wont to, none looking in the least ceremonial. The three Technicians, on the other hand, accompany Styger in front. The masjon leads, of course, because he is the appointed liason between the outside Solar Region and the great-granddaughters of Mater appointed to oversee the vesh there.

The Rayverr appreciate the outdoor setting, examining the scenery and enjoying the view whilst they make their way to their hosts, human of course in the lead. He looks like the perfect politician: sharp business suit, tall, youthful yet with an aged experience around his face, a full head of hair and a quick, easy smile. "I am Hieronymus Styger, masjon of the vesh pij verr, Your Majesty, Your Highness," he says with a suitably low bow as respects the Vetinari's high station, "presenting Lok'e'terr-Lixvox, thidgahv-soksot pij Mikinfchak and lisgahnjon pij vesh pij verr." As he pronounces the alien words with a hint of Czech accent, the monstrous violet-scaled reptilian behind him bows respectfully but not to the point of obesiance as Styger did, her glittering emerald green and obsidian black robes rustling gently with her motion. They cover what needs be covered in polite company; even the usually nude Technicians are also sporting white robes essentially analogous to togas, the green-and-black checkerboard reduced to trim in their case.

Green-Stone speaks with a softly booming, aspirant voice, adapting the already broad vowels of masfie to more human tongues. "Honohr'd, yeeohr Mahjehstee, yeeohr Hai'hness." She smiles slyly by physiology and then returns to her previous height--her cordon serves the secondary purpose of not forcing anyone to crane their necks looking up at her. "Thahnk youh fohr yeeohr hohspihtaahlihty."

Speaker-Rrit could have co-opted an IntRelate insystem shuttle or one of literally millions of Saturnspace Ringcraft, but instead he opted to take up a friend on an offer. With a full-named kzinrret five centimeters taller than him on his arm and a surprisingly close friend standing to his other side, he honestly looks forward to this party. He's taken the time to prepare, too, wearing the sort of open sleeveless robe used by the Conservors of his Patriarchy over his usual spotless blue-and-black government uniform, with the rough weave of his Patriarch's baldric over all. Arriving at Tarvi's exquisitely planned dinner, his ears and tail twitch happily as he leans over to his mate and speaks softly in the Hero's Tongue. "So, honored consort H'zta, does it make you pine for the old days?"

H'zta chuckles softly, breath whiffing through her nostrils as she matches her mate's happy body language. "Almost. You would be surprised how similar intercorporate meetings can be to our old trade, sir."

"You will never live down having to address a no-name as a superior, hrrm?" Speaker chuckles.

"It was probably good for me. Would not you agree, half-name?"

"Leading questions need not be answered, and never be answered without care. I know your guile, female."

"I should certainly hope so by now." Given that apparently the aliens they're supposed to meet come in rainbow colors and are attired in various shades of white, iridescent green and black, or steel, they stand out in a crowd. The inner diplomat in both the kzinti precludes them from making comment, but they both share glances and find the other thinking that the royal purple one is quite the large beastie.

"So," Speaker transitions, turning to his grey-skinned friend and continuing to speak in his native language, knowing her proficiency, "do you look forward to this as much as we do?"

The grey-skinned avatar of a mechanoid gestalt consciousness whose physical storage and instrumentality lays scattered in constant communication with itself across continents, planets, and lightyears smiles as she replies in the same language, easily adjusting the inhuman vocal cords in her admittedly merely humanoid frame to speak the tongue as if she were a Hero herself. "But of course, dear equal, and on so many different levels. It is always interesting for me to meet another of my particular primary profession, of course, but she also makes quite the specimen for my more... varied interests."

She looks without staring, indicating features with mere flicks of her green-glowing eyes, slitted pupils dilating and contracting as she examines in passing. "For example, look at how their bodies only seem to be a mix of radial and bilateral symmetry, something unheard of in Terrestrial life. Look carefully, however, at their central legs and arms--they are bilaterally symmetrical as well. I can only guess at the evolutionary imperatives for their development, but triads must be as basic to their evolution as binaries are to Terrestrial life... and your own, wherever it is you really do come from.

"Still," she says, reverting to the more commonly accepted lingua franca of English, "we mustn't be bad guests. Our guests of honor have buttonholed the hosts; we shall simply have to wait our turn to be introduced."

The Imperial Mechant Navy medium freighter exits sub-space at the edge of the Sol System, speeding inwards towards its Titan Colony destination. Enroute to their goal, a smallish belly-side door opens and a platform descends bearing a Reptavian MCU shuttle and a pair of Swatter aero-space superiority drones. The wings on all three are folded in as the engines ignite, bearing them away from the transport towards their destination at Saturn.

Chancellor Ghaaro Twaarl preens his eyelids in a reflecting surface, checking for stray signs of shed. His irisdescent eyes catch light from many sources, reflecting them in a prismatic fashion. "I'm sure this must be most interesting for you, Officer Kraat. You haven't been to Saturn before, have you?" Ghaaro casts one eye on the Deep One next to him across the row of seating while watching himself preen with his other eye. The Grass-Walker vocal-chords are capable only of bird-like chirps and whistles, and so the majority of their communication is psionic in nature.

Where the Grass-Walker is, to a Sakkran, the picture of grace and elegance, the Deep One is the picture of raw power and ponderous brutality. Kraat uses her tiny manipulator fingers to scrub a small brush against her massive lobster-like claws, giving the bony protruberances a slight sheen to them. Mouth-plates grind and gnash, which are translated via the symbiotes which are everpresent in Sakkran society these days.

"Normally my work keeps me near the Emperor most times, and I don't think he's had occasion to make an appearance at Saturn. In essence, no." She holds her hand in front of her eyes for inspection, and gives a satisfied grumble. She then begins swabbing the armor-plated skin on her arms with an oil-cloth smelling of sesame. "Might be interesting to meet the Rayverr, though. The Skeen reports dictate keeping an Imperial Eye on them. Everything seems well, but for some reason Director Thress wants a discreet eye kept on them in case they hatch some nefarious scheme." A loud hacking sound comes from Kraat then, which bounces and reverbrates across the MCU pod. It's translated as "Ha! Ha ha!"

"Ah, look. We'll be there soon." Ghaaro looks out the port-hole window towards Saturn, the view only slightly obstructed by the Swatter drone. The three ships transmit their SigIdents as they approach.

The noise was not one of thundering arrival, or tectonic chaos; buildings of slight construction did not shiver at any cacophony , and any foliage as wide-ranging as tree to meadow did not waiver or find themselves pressed further upon the earth at the behest of any violent combustion. The merest hint the order of all things natural had been supplemented by the technological a high-pitched whine which though growing in stature, did not present a painful presence.

Appropriating the landing pad assigned, the considerable bulk of the lander negotiated the minimal corrections required to bring herself directly above, and began the descent towards touchdown. Beneath her curved emitters the stubborn system of gravity warped and denied a right to interfere as the obvious bulk of the ship was negated to minimalist proportions. From points upon her prow and aft, shafts of scarcely visible light struck forth; a deep and virtually cobalt blue which formed parallel spots upon the approaching ground though seemed entirely too weak to provide meaningful navigational aid.

From equal points two-thirds along length, considerable buttresses unfolded and carried forth the landing gear not as yet deployed -- Curled as it was tightly round and difficult to differentiate from the myriad other protrusions upon the hull.

Riordan tugged at the unsatisfactory cuffs upon his wrists which refused to adhere to settling, whilst looking upon the rest of his visage. Choosing formal wear had been an exercise in frustration for the senior member of the Aengelistoria Dominica -- Such had been the rarity of such diplomatic jaunts that it had been virtually impossible to locate clothing adequate.

He wore a virtually two-tone outfit; black trousers almost uniform in their featureless design bar crease lines, and the identically uninteresting dress shoes beneath. A suit-like jacket which boasted tails extending to knees coloured an identical black, whilst a shirt beneath coloured a slightly lighter blue completed the basic dressing. Underneath the collar and suspended from the neck, the symbol of the Serene^Union; the metallic motif of a Phoenix emerging resplendent from flame and destruction. Adopted from Earth mythology but thoroughly assimilated nonetheless.

A soft but palpable rumble shook the Kaeneian, as an accompanying high-pitched tone announced the completion of landing and the securing of systems. Scarcely even able to once more spend a moment attending to cuffs, he was interrupted by the sole aide planned to accompany him as entourage.

“We are ready to proceed, Supreme-Overseer?”

Riordan nodded, whilst holding his wrists upwards. “Unfortunately my cufflinks do not share your readiness, and seem more interested in delaying than complimenting my dress sense. Perhaps you can convince them?”

The young women nodded, setting lithe fingertips to work upon the irritating diversion. Looking over her clothing, the senior Kaeneian approved; a simple blue dress devoid of sparkling, shimmering or otherwise distracting additions. It billowed forth and was of considerable length, obscuring the feet and spreading slightly on to the floor, though an obvious ring at its base widened the material sufficiently to allow walking safely.

She stepped back, nodding. “Perhaps now we are prepared, Supreme-Overseer.”

“Apparently so,” Riordan began. "I must admit some minor uncertainty towards this function -- I have no personal experience in social situations out with the Serene^Union and in addition I have been unable to gather meaningful information on this good friend of the Cetagandans. Though I obviously hardly expect a conflict, it is unsettling to be unprepared.”

The young women considered this, "I believe our foremost concern is that we will find it difficult to shine amongst our allies whom are considerably more charismatic, and open in discussion than ourselves. It is unlikely we shall have much thought to the Rayverr, with out efforts focused on avoiding being ‘boring’.”

With that, the two Kaeneians made their way towards the party, entirely unsure of what would be their interesting anecdote, hilarious situation, ironic happening or even introductions beyond the acutely formal -- Such was the difficulty in hailing from a Union of isolation and cold logic.

A short, indefinably ugly man steps into the room flanked by his omnipresent trio of bodyguards. He pauses to straighten the collar of his black and silver suit before stepping forward to meet the other guests, paying no attention to the man and two women who stay respectfully behind. It's been so long since he's given up trying to argue over their necessity at friendly functions that he doesn't pay them much mind.

He glances about the room, taking note of individuals, clusters and postures before lighting on the hosts and heading toward them. There is, naturally, a wait before he can speak to them and he suffers it patiently. He was long ago convinced of the fact that most of his allies are people worth waiting for. This one, in particular, has a sense of humour he can appreciate.

Finally he reaches the king and consort. "Evening, Gregor. Tarvi." He gives them the nod of one peer to another before presenting an unobtrusively packaged box. "A little gift for your private amusement. I confess I haven't tried one myself, but I'm given to understand that it's a big seller in Devonton."

"It is our honor as well, Third-Daughter Green-Stone. It is great pleasure to meet you in person. I've heard a great deal about you," says Gregor with a toothless grin and a slight bow, such as one would give to another person of equal rank. He continues, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Styger. I've watched Cvechiokal with great interest over since the Rayverr moved in. Your people are to be commended on their progress. Few nations could go as far as you have in such a short time, even with advanced help."

Besides him, Tarvi nods to the guests now coming through the entrance. "Third-Daughter, may I present Speaker-Rrit, Supreme Emperor of Scolopendra and Patriarch of that nation's kzin population, and some would say defacto leader of the Triumvirate; his consort, H'zta, who is also CEO of H+K Industries; Sentient HyperOptimized Access Data Network, Queen of the mechanoid nation of Zero-One; and Devon Treznor, Emperor of Treznor. Friends, this is Third-Daughter Green-Stone, the Rayverr ambassador, and Hieronymus Styger, representing Cvechiokal."

Gregor takes the package from Devon with a quizzical and slightly suspicious look, and takes care to open it so that only he and Tarvi can see inside. Gregor's eyes go wide and his face turns bright red; beside him, Tarvi only snickers and signals a servant to take it away before saying with a perfectly straight face, "Why, thank you, Devon. I'm sure we can find some use for it."

Having been tied up with a flurry of business, it was strange to see the Toriko class shuttle leisurely pull in and land. The much larger Queen's Wing had ferried the attendees from the Earth Sphere to Saturn space, but had landed at the Dosei colony on the Ring. The small shuttle was deemed sufficient for the relatively shorter trip.

The entire Shogunate delegation to the party consists of two reploids- one the familiar draconic figure of Tsume Dragonis, Secretary of Foreign Affairs. The other a Diplomatic Corps officer who was steadily rising through the ranks, a flight-type humanoid reploid with grey armoring by the name of Storm Skypeace.

Upon arrival, the pair mingle among the gathered guests, making idle chatter and awaiting their chance to greet the hosts.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Styger replies with a smile, "after our ineffectual independence and the excesses of colonial rule under ClemsonTigers, the vesh and its support for us was truly a gift to us. We could not have done it without their aid and the international support they helped us arrange."

Green-Stone bows her head respectfully to the other guests as she is introduced. "We are honored, of course, that you come to meet us. It is the hope of the vesh that we can enter into friendly relations with all of your states, for as you know we are new to this system and we could always do with friends in the local area." Smiling, she looks over the faces of all those assembled with an expression unreadable by alien construction, although it seems to shift slightly when she looks at the AI 'queen.' "If there are any questions you may have that I can answer, I would gladly accept them--failing that, we are curious about your cultures and species and would like to learn more about them."

Styger notes the late arrivals and takes care of the introductions as a masjon should, first introducing himself and then the Third-Daughter. "We are glad you could make it," he says while looking up diplomatically at the mechanical dragon, quietly thankful for the calming presence of Green-Stone. "Please forgive my question if it is rude, but are there many people like you where you're from?"

Tsume chuckles slightly with one of those spread-winged formal bows of his. "A pleasure to meet with the friends of our allies, Mr. Styger. No rudeness taken, outside of our borders 'people like me' are something of an oddity. I'm Tsume Dragonis, and my colleague here is Storm Skypeace, of the Shogunate's Diplomatic Corps. Not all of our population is mechanical, but a fair portion of it is, and rather widely varied in form. I daresay Storm and I are somewhat 'normal', so far as reploid designs go."

"An honor to meet with you, Third-Daughter Green-Stone. " Storm offers a polite bow to the reptillian. "Lady Firefury sends her regrets at being unable to attend personally. The Shogunate has been watching events from a distance with some interest."

"The curiosity is mutual," Speaker replies, bowing shortly when introduced by Gregor. "We can easily arrange for cultural exchange between the Segments and your vesh. We have met extrasolar species before, but yours is indeed unique. The peaceful arrangement"--he avoids calling it an armed occupation--"you have with the Cvechiokali shows this. We know far too many that are more interested in conflict than stability."

But a stability created by conflict. Can't accuse too much, as extraction campaigns are similar. But nation-building... He simply smiles and flaps his ears diplomatically. Moral relativism has to be the most aggrivating part of his job.

S.H.O.D.A.N. catches the momentary change in expression and routes it to some otherwise unoccupied nodes for a probability analysis on what it may mean, not letting any of this register on her face. The Rayverr may know humanoid facial expressions, a fact which demands her usual care in how she acts diplomatically. "As per 'species,' I know I am curious about yours. Biology is something of a hobby of mind and I am always infinitely curious about new life. I've not seen anything quite like your species, and so I am sure that the xenobiologists of the Triumvirate would be quite willing to share information mutually with you.

"But, of course, we are all diplomats here and so our first priority is diplomacy." She smiles appropriately, with that slightly sly edge it takes when she's obviously smiling diplomatically. It isn't insincere, just aware of the mutual joke that is often international relations. "As the Master Control Program of Zero-One," she winks at Gregor for using her unofficial title, "I can tell you that the mechanoids of the Queendom are quite interested in closer exchange with your people on a more informal level. What information networks could they visit in order to accomplish this--pending your willingness to accept said visitors, of course?"

Riordan paused as he felt the admittedly scarcely appreciated expanse of the outside vanish, to be replaced with the altogether more claustrophobic interior of the Imperial Palace. Immediately he turned to the Kaeneian women similarly coming to a stop at his right, eyes scanning the throng gathering and compiled of all manners of diplomats, guests and invitees.

“It is certainly a considerably attended event,” he began.

Annia nodded; “I have familiarised myself somewhat Supreme-Overseer, on the identities of the most senior or perhaps, recognisable dignitaries in attendance. If you would look to your right, the considerable presence of the Speaker, representing the Federated Segments of Scolopendra is present. He is Kzin, and extremely honourable.”

“Directing your gaze left, and behind us, the representative of the Shogunate; I believe the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, a Reploid referable to as Tsume.”

Accepting his subordinate's descriptions he nodded; “Whilst we have had contact with the Federated Segments, we have yet to enter into anything resembling meaningfulness with the Shogunate or her government. It is perhaps then appropriate we reserve some period to enter into a discourse -- Though I am weary at the thought of visiting each party present here; I do not believe I have sufficient wit or anecdotes to share.”

Doing his upmost to remember he was here as Supreme-Overseer Likonesse, of the Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs, and not a Kaeneian after-dinner speaker required to regale the crowds with amusement and fun Riordan continued his slow walk forwards.

“The onus falls on us to introduce unfortunately and though I doubt we are known personally here, I am confident few could fail to identify us as Kaeneian,” --holding his arm out to reveal flesh devoid of any rosy hue and only the barest step from being devoid of life itself.

“I believe I have located the hosting Cetagandan party,” Annia announced, “Though they seem deep in conversation and I must profess I am not entirely sure as to the social etiquette required in this situation -- I believe we must ’wait our turn’ so to speak.”

The Supreme-Overseer raised an eyebrow; “You sound nervous Annia, could it be you are not as well prepared as you claim?”

The slightly shorter woman took only slightly longer than would have made her reply seem an instant dismissal, “I am slightly apprehensive at representing the entirety of The Serene^Union. I have done my upmost to research this scenario, though the information available to me was woefully incomplete and of little direct use."

“I hope you ensured to forward our culinary needs to the Cetagandans -- I do not wish to leave the table in the event we are supplied some … ’exotic’ earth food which requires a reinforced digestive tract to withstand at close range.”

Annia sighed, “I transmitted a document for their viewing on the matter but whether it was read and understood or written off as another example of Kaeneian oddity, I cannot say. I do however suggest we attempt to ‘mingle’.”

Riordan looked at his companion oddly, and assumed she would have at least had the common sense to provide a translation. When this was not forthcoming, the senior figure took it upon himself to procure one . “Are you willing to translate for those of us not able?”

Producing a discreet data-node from the folds of her dress, Annia nodded and remained oblivious to the incredulous look cast upon her by a disbelieving Supreme-Overseer, who was quite unable to believe she had acquired an Earthen Dictionary of slang for instant familiarisation and translation.

“Mingle,” She began, “A verb meaning ‘to bring or mix together or with something else usually without fundamental loss of identity’. Essentially we are to attempt to negotiate a path with no intended end destination in the hope that eventually we shall enter into to, and create conversation. I have also found that according to established rules of diplomatic etiquette at gatherings, the hosts shall make their way around parties and introduce, or are ‘headed off’ so to speak by the latter.”

“Headed off?” He asked, as Annia immediately delved into the seemingly endless capability of her data-node to hold the most trivial answer to the slightest question upon anyone’s lips.

“An Earth slang phrase, meaning ‘not to wait until given an opportunity; to expedite a situation; to take matters into one’s own hands and to…”

“That is sufficient,” Riordan said finally, interrupting what he was sure would have lead to precious hours lost and nothing appreciably gained. “Precisely what is the purpose of the data-node here? Do you expect to gather pearls of diplomatic wisdom?”

Annia considered this as though surprised, “Possibly that may present an opportunity. I had however intended to gather linguistic information for the Department Scientia; it will invaluably aid future interactions with Humans and other species alike -- As it provided you with translations moments before.”

“Invaluable,” the Supreme-Overseer replied somewhat sarcastically, “Shall we then move to put this plan into action?”

Annia nodded and together, the Kaeneians set about breaking certain rules of logical thought; one does not enter into a journey without having a destination, as they began to enter the mass of gathered peoples, and put any hint of discomfort at close proximity out of mind. For Riordan the end of the evening barring any major disaster and perhaps more information on the Rayverr would be considered a success. For Annia, collecting enough odd sayings and colloquialisms to keep the Linguistics section of the Department Scientia baffled for weeks would be a fitting achievement.

Hieronymus nods as Tsume explains the state of mechanical life(?) in his Shogunate. He rationalizes his slight unease around these two as the result of meeting inherently new life, although the big tiger-things don't seem to bother him as much. Well... they do, but with a more understandable primal fear easily gotten around, seeing how they appear to be civilized in their own way. This is a more steady, an irrational and yet more illogical unease like the suggestion of a bad memory. "A fair portion, you say? Do you nominally act as a ruling class, or is your nation more thoroughly... ah... integrated?" He's not entirely sure why he asks. "Again, no offense intended, merely curiosity given that you two 'reploids' were sent to represent your nation."

Green-Stone smiles slyly by physiology to Storm Skypeace, following it up with a respectful bow of the head. "We cannot fault anyone for watching from afar. As I am sure you know, we are equally guilty of such things. Hopefully what you've seen reflects well on us?"

She turns and repeats the gesture to the Scolopendran Supreme Emperor, quietly detecting an understanding ambivalency towards her and her vesh. "We do what we can. We are only glad that we of the vesh were able to help the Cvechiokali and do indeed wish that they wish to join our vesh when the time comes. However, we trust their judgement and self-determination in that matter." Another smile. "We do look forward, however, to working more closely with your people in the future. What can we expect to see when we visit? And as for visits..." She looks down a little more at the shorter robot avatar, keeping her face diplomatically still. "I apologize, Queen," the title comes off a little oddly, perhaps an eighth-choked, "but I am not well versed on our, sahrr, information technology system. One of my cakjonlo would be glad to assist you with that information. We are of course"--again eighth-choked--"open to visitors of any kind, as long as they are peaceful." She lets herself hiss ululatingly at the mild joke, reaching for a transition.

One of the three Technicians around Styger breaks off and scuttles over to S.H.O.D.A.N., standing at about half her height and so looking up. "I am Short-Fingers, Queen," he says with the same odd eighth-choking around the title, although from his thin, long hands he evidently doesn't deserve the name. "I know that our benefactors and associates in Gordenia installed a telecommunications network infrastructure in Cvechiokal, but the vesh as a whole do not have one. Our incoming traffic is currently routed through a single server for security purposes, because we are not experienced with dealing with either the traffic or the 'datacrime' that occurs in this area. You can reach it at this network address." He lists off a string of numbers that probably have some meaning to the avatar.

Another Technician breaks from the group thanks to a quick quiet suggestion by Styger to intercept the important-looking Kaeneians. "Welcome," she says, "I hope I don't exceed the authority of our gracious hosts. I'm Blue-Eyes, a cakjon of the vesh." Strangely enough (for her species), her eyes are indeed blue.

Tsume chuckles, careful to avoid showing his fangs and further unsettling the otherwise pleasant Hieronymus. "That's a rather hard call. Society for the most part is adapted to the mix, though of course there are always rogue elements striving to unhinge things. Storm and I were sent largely to cut down on personel that had to come. We don't require much in the way of a security detail, for rather obvious reasoning. Technically speaking, reploids rule the nation in that Firefury Amahira is in charge, though much of the day-to-day business is handled in a more democratic fashion."

Storm smiles and steps back to defer to Speaker. The Diplo-lackey keeps an ear out, making note of the speak nuances and body language of the tripedal aliens, filing the information away for analysis later. What has gone unsaid or indicated by both reploids is that in addition to things in the Shogunate being a bit hectic is that Firefury had one of her so-called hunches, and had flat-out insisted that the mechanoids attend. It was a minor enough indulgence, and so the Diplomatic Corps had pulled Amber Koneko and Morphin from the roster in favor of Tsume and Storm.

A mild, but palpable flutter of indignation rose and made itself available to mock as Annia’s seemingly uncoordinated strategy to ‘mingle’ succeeded, and brought them none other than a member of that most enigmatic of races -- Whom the Supreme-Overseer himself had singled out as an unknown element deserving of closer investigation and discourse.

“Allow me to be so bold,” Riordan began. "But I assume you to be Rayverr? Forgive the ease or insolence of such a question, but our civilised paths have until this moment crossed not, and information was lacking prior to my departure.”

Annia did not heed the diplomatic introduction, head bowed as fingertips danced a quizzical waltz upon the face of the data-node, and her intellect battled with the new additions. She pondered such words as Vesh -- Perhaps a loyalty oath of some sort, or a Monarch? She did not have enough information to hazard an accurate hypothesis and would table some questions when the moment was opportune.

“I am Supreme-Overseer Riordan Likonesse, of the Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs and therein representing the Serene^Union as ambassador to this event. Accompanying me is Annia Tyzentov, of the same Office as myself and assigned as my aide.”

Stirring to reality only at the utterance of her name, the Kaeneian woman looked upwards, failing to avoid the telltale look of decided irritation on the face of her superior whom did not take kindly to her neglecting her fledgling diplomatic duties in favour of research. Hesitating momentarily over which of the three arms ahead to address she chose at random, and putting such failing aside, Annia nodded respectfully and bowed slightly as was custom; extending her right arm, palm facing downwards and awaiting reciprocation.

After a moment had passed, she cursed her obvious foolishness and though not retracting her limb, expanded upon what must have seemed the bizarre. “It is a traditional Kaeneian greeting, with the recipient matching the arm movement with palm upwards so both meet. I believe it originates from ensuring those you faced had no weapons or other implements by which to injure you.”

“Not that I believe your intentions dubious,” she added hastily.

Riordan resisted and succeeded in avoiding the temptation to roll his eyes and interjected; it was often necessary to steer the course of the younger Kaeneians and ensure they did not become overawed by surroundings they had little experience in, such as here where following protocol and seniority was of vital importance.

“Whilst we are familiar with the Cetagandans, allied as we are through the Triumvirate of Yut, we know little of the Rayverr beyond that they came into contact with the former through peaceful means and exchange. Indeed such was the importance felt by the Aengelistoria Dominica, and the Governor-General herself in particular, that rather than send a capable yet standard ambassador I was selected directly -- After all, indirectly allies of the Cetagandans are of interest to us all.”

Once more retreating from more important surroundings, Annia furiously transcribed information she thought as useful on the Rayverr which stood before her; Tripedal and possessing three arms of which the third carries directly overhead. Obvious reptilian similarities which lend the observation they may not be entirely warm-blooded but further examination would be required. Capable of vocalising Terran English though certain words do not appear to be translatable …

“Annia!” Hissed Riordan, during a break in conversation with the Rayverr representative ahead. “I appreciate your gusto and enthusiasm but you are breaching protocol, and appearing more interested in forming notes than conversing. Address my concerns and do not bring further complaint upon yourself.”

Almost fluently bringing the pad back into its original resting place, the aide put her disappointment at being admonished into context and fluidly launched into rehearsed and unremarkable conversation with the curious creature which stood so differently to the Kaeneians -- A flesh not as pale and near-translucent as theirs, but a scaly and deep green. Not features carved smoothly from bone but a snout and far more animalistic appearance; obvious sentient intelligence offsetting the latter however.

“Perhaps you could explain to us the precise nature of your contact with the Cetagandans? Was it nothing more than sheer coincidence and accidental encounter or perhaps a deliberate attempt by yourself to locate friends? I am deeply inquisitive of your nature, as it appears your culture is as different from that of the Serene^Union as any two examples could possibly be.”

Princesses Catherine and Elayne finally arrived at the party, arm in arm. Both royals wore gowns of flowing red and silver gossamer that seemed to sway around their radiant forms. Crimson red hair swayed freely as they moved, walking with a certain inborn grace.

As they approached their hosts, both women courtseyed graciously. "Your Majesty, Your Highness." Elayne said charmingly "We are very glad that you've invited us here today. We and our people are quite pleased to make our first contact with the Court and people of Cetaganda, of whom we have heard only the very best things."

Styger nods. "I suppose something like that can be said of Cvechiokal. Third-Daughter Yellow-Star--one of Green-Stone's sisters--in Ceske is certainly in charge of the entire province, but day-to-day work in cities and towns across Cvechiokal is all human-run, though the police still have some Rayverr support. It's all become much more efficient since they arrived." He smiles, keeping an even tone with a slight amount of effort. They truly are the best thing to have happened to us... but I can't bore Mister (?) Dragonis with that. "Either way, we are quite honored that our mutual friends the Cetagandans are hosting this get-together to invite us to their allies and equally honored by your presence, Mister Dragonis--I'm afraid I'm uncertain of the proper honorific so please forgive me if I err." Smiling broadly, he talks like a friend--just like a perfect politician. It's all about image, and image is what he's done for years.

Blue-Eyes, on the other hand, looks curiously at Annia's hand as she gestures, then returns it when it is explained to her. Her almost slickly smooth lemon-yellow scales are warm to the touch, perhaps a degree or two warmer than human standard, and her voice shares the same aspirated quality of Green-Stone's albeit lacking the booming bass effect. "I'm honored, my gahvsillo." She returns the bow, deeper than the one Annia offered, and with one hand over the green plates of her 'chest' in something similar to the Arab greeting. "The word translates to something analogous to 'female superiors' although it is technically 'superior females.' We've a similar greeting, hands wide open." She demonstrates it with her three hands, the six long, thin fingers on each spreading out as far as they can. It looks like a human gesture of surrender.

"I'm afraid I, as a lowly cakjon, cannot honor you in conversation as well as the thidgahv-soksot could. I will do my best, however." She attempts a smile, something that Rayverr facial musculature simply isn't capable of accomplishing without looking sneakily sly, an effect probably only enhanced by her thinly-opened blue eyes and the somewhat sleek, almost ratlike shape of her head. "We made contact out of both a desire for friendship and of curiosity, two qualities we've in abundance in our vesh. I'm not aware of the full details of our first contact, but I know one of our corvettes managed to make contact with a Cetagandan 'LAC' via pictograms. This was before we learned your common language of English."

The shuttle lands at the Saturnian station and the escort drones settle near it, powering down their systems to stand-by mode. The Sakkran pair exit the transport, and are guided towards the reception. Ghaaro Twaarl makes sure his white silken robes have no stray bits of material loose as he walks, while Kraat's simple shoulder-to-waist sash of leather is tugged on slightly to straighten it. "Honestly, do you not know first appearances are important? Arriving in a disheveled state casts an ill light."

Kraat coughs and grinds out a response. "Rrah! What do we of the Deep care for clothing? It creates drag in the waters and makes for inefficient hunting. I wear this to appease those that would have misgivings about an unadorned presence; nothing more." They arrive at the function hall in short enough order, ceasing their bickering as the doors open for them. Ghaaro looks up at Kraat, and nudges her in the waist, which is shoulder-height to him. "Can you make out any familiar presences here?"

Kraat's reddish eyes scan the room swiftly, taking in all her 3.5 meter tall frame can manage. She twists a bit here and there to prevent beings becoming inpmaled in her spines jutting out at all angles. "There are K'zin present, Shogunate Reploids, Sidhe from Resurgent Dream, and our hosts who appear to be in company of the Unknown Quantity. Hrrrmmm....let us make our approach."

Ghaaro makes an 'after you' motion to Kraat, who nods her head and proceeds to lead the way towards Gregor and Tarvi. It's not so much a charge as a slow and methodical approach, with nods given to familiar dignitaries and associates as they go.

Speaker quietly muses over Green-Stone's words while she's otherwise occupied, pressing a little closer to H'zta with an affectionate squeeze as he thinks about it. Trust their judgement and self-determination... to end up your way? Strange thing, an autocrat putting trust in the 'self-determination' of her subjects unless public opinion is in her favor. Finally, he replies with his usual diplomatic good-naturedness. "You can expect to see a salad bowl of many different cultures brought together by similar circumstances and similar national ideals. He have our factions, of course, but they get along mostly cordially. Disputes are mostly academic in nature. What would we see if we visited yours?"

Slightly argumentative. Nothing worth taking offense at.

"S.H.O.D.A.N. will do, Short-Fingers, if you are more comfortable with that," Shodey replies, silently noting the choking around her title and kneeling down on one knee so the smaller creature doesn't have any difficulty talking to her. "Thank you for your help--what other technology do you have, either in Cvechiokal or elsewhere, and what resources? I ask only because there may be openings for us to generate mutually beneficial trade agreements that way. I know that may be exceeding your authority, so I'm simply asking for information because it seems to me you might be better versed in technology and the like.

While two men smile and greet the reploids as they arrive, they pay extra attention to the Sidhe when they arrive. "Ah, the other newcomers," says Tarvi. "We've heard good things about you and yours as well, princesses, although few details. I hope we learn much about each other tonight. I've always thought that's it's good to start off a relationship with something more enjoyable than dry business. I think you'll find everyone here quite interesting to talk with - all nice people, although I doubt you'll find a more ecletic group anywhere else. Humans, kzin, machines, even," he waves a hand towards Kraat and Ghaaro," giant lizards and Deep Ones. Good evening, Chancellor. May I present Princess Catherine and Princess Elayne, of the Resurgent Dream."

Gregor nods politely to the Sakkrans, before telling the princesses, "We have Sidhe and other faerie here in Cetaganda, although they tend to keep to themselves most of the time. However, experience tells me that simply sharing a name means little when it comes to fractal reality. I hope it doesn't seem rude if I ask you a few questions. For instance, here there have been two courts of the fey, the Dark and the Light, since long before humans arrived. Is there such a split in your nation?"

Nearby, a woman in uniform approaches the Kaeneians. Her hair is silver, and her face, while seemingly young, has lines that betray her true age. "I had heard that there would be people from Kaenei here tonight," she says to them in a strong voice. "It pleases me greatly to see that it is true. I am Lady Martial Signy Mallory, Supereme-Overseer. I've had a few opportunities in the past to work with your military - an extraordinary group. I'm glad to finally meet some of you in person and without the unpleasantness that has surrounded my previous encounters." She eyes Blue-Eyes, and while her tone remain cordial, it becomes subtly less friendly. "I see you have met one of our new acquaintances. It is nice to meet you as well, madam. I've studied your military action against Clemson Tigers quite a bit. It was very well executed. It is obvious your warriors are professionals of high caliber."

Treznor deftly relieves a tray of a drink and retreats to the edge of the crowd, watching folks as he takes a sip. There is an art to reading body language, an art that comes in handy when dealing with international dignitaries. He became even more adept at it after his...accident, but it still has its limitations.

Aliens are always, well, alien. They usually have patterns that can provide clues to their state of mind and intentions, but it's a mistake to anthropomorphise them. With kzinti, it's important to watch the ears. With Sakkra, scent is important. But the Rayverr...the Rayverr are demonstrating very human characteristics.

Treznor circles the group, nodding politely here, chatting amicably there but still watching the newcomers. Gradually, as the evening progresses he decides that some of their human behaviour is deliberate. Subtle, but still unnatural.

They're trying to put us at ease.

What's worse, the act they're putting on makes it difficult to study them and learn their own natural patterns. Or is their mimicry part of their natural pattern? Are they born mimics? That's the problem with aliens, it's impossible to tell.

He stops circling and takes a seat near a window after refreshing his drink. It's looking to be a very interesting evening.

Listening carefully to the tone under the diplomacy in the kzin's wording, Green-Stone takes a moment to think about how she is going to frame her response. "In Cvechiokal you would see people, rayverr and human, working together in peace and relative harmony. The indigineous Cvechiokali culture remains even with the transplant of our rayverr culture of the greater vesh; the two exist mostly seperately. We are alien to each other, after all. There are times when the two mingle, mostly during social opportunities, and of course there is interplay between them. Still, it is merely our hope to make lives better both within the vesh and without; sometimes we succeed, as in Cvechiokal, and sometimes agents of despair get the better hand as in Zackaroth. Unity and collective action are all secondary to the primary importance of improving lives. We have heard from our allies that yours is an idealistic people; well," she says with a softly hissing chuckle, "those are our ideals."

Meanwhile, Short-Fingers nods his understanding to S.H.O.D.A.N.. "That's indeed true. As you can probably tell our various phenotypes are adapted for functions in society; lisgahnjonlo are adapted for leadership in the same way that cakjonlo like me are adapted for technical work. I know as much as any cakjon about our technology. In Cvechiokal we're using solar farms and a legacy fusion plant from the days of The Sean Empire for power; our surface road system was broadened and paved and our rail system has been upgraded with a maglev backbone. We have some agreements with Gordenia for heavy manufacturing rights but besides that the technology there's still mostly what the indigineous humans had before our arrival.

"Elsewhere... well, sh'kai's far away and we don't do much resource trade with it. While it's a big universe, there's nothing in the way of materials that Cvechiokal has that sh'kai doesn't."

The arrival of Lady Mallory means that Blue-Eyes has someone else she has to look up at, and this one doesn't seem half as inviting. Humans have their ways of carefully picking particular ways to emote over others, and this is something that the intuitive empathy common to the Rayverr tends to pick up on. "I thank you for the compliment in their stead, my gahvsil, although there is a few over by the thidgahv-soksot. I think they'd be honored by your assessment, being veterans of the ClemsonTigers campaign. I participate in a civil role, although many of my kin act as technicians for our changjonlo."

Annia recoiled hastily at the touch of the Rayverr’s extended limb, a look of deep discomfort permeating her features to accompany a reaction akin to being burned painfully, so that the flesh might contort and blacken though obviously no flame existed. Examining her hand for moments afterward, the Kaeneian woman seemed to welcome reality back into partnership with senses, and returned the undamaged limb to dangle.

“My apologies,” came the slow response, “My instincts overrode my common manners and etiquette. My people and as a result myself, do not have an affinity with the warm or heat-laden. It cannot have escaped your notice our considerable paleness -- We hale from snow and rain, and are accustomed to it considerably.”

“You were not to know,” added the accompanying Supreme-Overseer. “We prefer a temperature often quite considerably beneath Human equivalent ambient norm; such contact with anything boasting even slight radiance of the warm can feel quite unsettling and uncomfortable.”

No sooner had the senior representative of the Serene^Union assisted Annia in rectifying the common error, than the woman had shown her gratitude by attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to stealthily add the seemingly high body temperature of the Rayverr to her accompanying data-node. Fortunately for the aide’s credibility, only the lizard-like technician saw this pursuit, as Riordan’s full attentions turned to the arrival of the Cetagandan, and his counter-welcome.

“Fortunately for us, and those assembled here we meet not as allies on the eve of battle, but as allies only; bereft of the pressure, unpleasantness and loss of life that so marred our ultimately successful but sadly undertaken efforts-at-arms. I must pass on the sincere regret of Governor-General Byzainti, whom was unable to represent the Serene^Union this evening and whose role I undertake myself; domestic issues rarely understand even the most simple planning, and the Aengelistoria Dominica was called once more to session in a matter she could not escape, though I could be spared.”

Annia nodded to the new arrival, but seemed entirely more interested in the Rayverr; she had seen nothing akin to the odd physiology of the alien in all her time within the Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs -- Surely the governmental department most likely to fulfil such a challenge. A mesh of scales coloured not unlike the first hesitant reaching of Sol upon a sunrise were a considerable and clashing contrast to the virtually colourless and unchanging hue of the cold which passed as Kaeneian. Tripedal and thusly sporting a skeleton which would to herself seem a nightmarish and deliberate rearrangement to fulfil nothing more than a ghoulish fantasy of the perturbed , to the owner a vital normalcy.

Seeking to engage the technician on a likeminded subject Annia picked upon the language front. “We too did not originally speak the language of English, but one of a unique and long-lost origin which translated was known as ‘Baroque-Kaeneian’.”

Pausing, she chose her next few words carefully, as her eyes seemed to disassociate their gaze from what lay ahead, and into learned text and recited information.

“Sia eri Khandrii’, ull luei Neanniori, gerisai Immateriam uz Sileban^Neann-Solarri.”

“In English, an approximate translation is ‘from the stars, and our home, across space to Earth’. We rarely speak our tongue out with likewise company; for who could understand what may not be entirely grasped by those who speak it?”

Annia succeeded additionally in failing to catch the flicker of Riordan’e eyes as she recited the ancient tongue, far too engrossed in the retelling of her anecdote to understand the veiled warning he attempted to convey before conversation with the Cetagandan women forced the entirety of his efforts back to the matter at hand.

“I trust our culinary requirements were successfully received?” He asked, somewhat brokenly as he resumed the train of thought. “Whilst I had intended to take care of the matter personally, I was unable to do so and trust delegating to a subordinate did not infringe upon its correct receipt -- We have requirements which though bothersome are somewhat required.”

The Supreme-Overseer found his patience wearing upon being forced to keep an eye upon his aide, and continue to exemplify the politeness he had originally sought to project to the guests. Annia was neither troublesome nor unreliable, but suffered from the exuberance of youth; despite the Kaeneian preference for order and calm, the consequences of few decades passed were identical across species; eagerness, uncoordinated energy and capriciousness -- though the latter was markedly controlled.

His much-travelled eyes settled all too briefly on an individual who seemed to deliberately circumvent the discussions and debates, conversations and musings and all other manner of dialogues in progress to instead observe overall. He continued to sip from a glass whilst in turn examining the parties assembled and apparently, paying close attention to the Rayverr.

From the conversation spewing forth aside him, the representative of the said species enduring Annia’s exuberance would have little time to notice, and utterly none to act in an effort to address the situation. Yet Riordan grudgingly accepted what little had transpired of the evening so far had been acceptable, even markedly profitable. He simply aimed to complete the night with such an initial observation intact.

S.H.O.D.A.N. smiles. "Yes, I think I can offer some things there. I am sure it comes as no surprise when I say that my mechanoid people are knowledgable in quite a few advanced industries. Is there still room for investment in Cvechiokal?"

Elayne smiled lightly. "It is no imposition at all. Yes, we do have a Seelie and an Unseelie Court. However, I am not sure it is that deep of a 'split' exactly. Her High Majesty is Seelie and her husband is Unseelie. It is habitual for nobles to marry from the opposite court, although my wife and I are an exception to that general rule."

Blue-Eyes seemed slightly startled at Annia's reaction, but the Kaeneian's explanation puts her back at ease. Even as the younger aide takes notes, the Rayverr simply observes with her uncommonly brilliant blue eyes, remembering for later sharing. Green-Stone had been very clear with her directives to avoid Giftspeech as much as possible. It would be better to reveal an understanding they were being watched than to inadvertently let anything important or damaging slip. Listening to Annia describe her native language, the short yellow reptilian rolls her shoulders in assent while her eyes narrow and face tightens slightly like one who is angry. "I understand, to a point. Language is a tool that is... rarely completely understood by its users. We of the vesh tend to revert back to our own language, but that's because there are meanings we want to express that don't have exact analogs in other language. For example, your words 'family,' 'state,' 'nation,' and 'empire' are all components of what we call a 'vesh,' and a vesh is all those simultaneously. The closest thing you may have for it would be 'clan,' but even a clan is too homogenous in makeup and too heterogeneous in intent to be a vesh."

Meanwhile, S.H.O.D.A.N.'s interest in Cvechiokal appears to make Short-Fingers slightly curl into himself, scrunching up as he looks around for thoughts. "Ssss... I... believe so but I am not personally sure. Thidgahv-soksot Pik-Lix--Third-Daughter Yellow-Star--of Cvechiokal would know more, I'm sure."

"I'll have to take it up with her then. Thank you for the recommendation." The mechanoid queen pauses for a moment, thinking over the Rayverr's combined actions towards her. Something isn't quite adding up here and whilst these new spacedy lizards are doing their best to be cordial and diplomatic she can't help but get the feeling they're put off by her. It's a relatively common thing in her experience and so she's become either adept or paranoid in detecting it. Asking right up front probably won't get me an honest answer.

Trying another diplomatic smile on for size, perhaps a little more wry and understanding than the last, she changes tack. "Another question that comes naturally to me is about your computer technology. The Cetagandans say that they didn't detect anything more complex than a very advanced but still dumb calculator. I must admit, making FTL without even a machine near-intelligence is impressive."

Speaker ponders that response for a moment after looking around at the varied faces at the party, letting the emotion-sense of ziirgah give him an idea of how people are taking this--his secret diplomatic weapon. Trust does not abound. He silently makes a decision. "Those are not bad ideals to have. Truth, while the expansion of your empire--your vesh--is more violent than we would like, we cannot deny that you have made life better for the Cvechiokali. As far as I can see, you tried to make life better for Zackaroth before you were repulsed.

"Our ideals do differ, but our ideals also differ from those of our closest allies. I see no harm in closer contact between our peoples. We can either coordinate through your embassy here or, if you would like, we can arrange an embassarial exchange. Any one of our Diplomatic Officers would leap at the chance to learn more about a culture like yours."

"We definitely have computers, ma'am, but nothing quite like... sss... you. I believe calling you a computer would be a misnomer, no?" The yellow-scaled Technician speaking to S.H.O.D.A.N. tenses, unscrunching himself with careful effort even as any emotion other than pleasant interest remains unaccounted for in his voice. "We're simply... sss... unaccustomed to artificial intelligences although we would like to know more about them. I suppose it would be safe to say that you are much more alien to us than your more... sss... natural comrades here. Not that any offense is intended." He tries out a smile, stretching his inhuman face unintentionally into an even more ratlike slyness. "As for FTL mathematics, I do not know the specifics but I do know that any difficult computation is just a matter of time based on processing power. It seems to work well enough for us."

Meanwhile, Green-Stone bows to Speaker. "The vesh would be honored to share representatives with you. I am sure we can arrange to have one of my siblings dispatched as an ambassador to your nation, and Cvechiokal already is our center for local diplomatic and economic exchange with this system. Would that be acceptable?"

"As your presence attests." Shodey smiles enigmatically, just a little bit of the impishness she's known for hidden within. "I suppose I've interrogated you enough for one night--thank you for your help, by the way." Standing up, she moves towards the inescapable hors d'ouvres buffet table and motions for Short-Fingers to follow along. "Now to more pleasant things than just talking shop. What kind of culture does your vesh have? I don't mean the unavoidable imperial amalgam in Cvechiokal, I mean the culture back at sh'kai as you call it. What kind of arts do the Rayverr have--music, painting, dance, theatre?"

The kzintosh returns the bow. "It will be my pleasure to host your siblings, Third-Daughter Green-Stone. I have monopolized your time almost more than is polite. I am sure there are others you wish to meet." Half-smiling with slyly lidded eyes, his ears and tail flick in dry humor.

Late. Again, late. Of all the times to get bombarded with matters of state. And the goddamn security checks have been getting ridiculous. I mean honestly, am I Imperatrice or not? Bastards ...

And so it went, grumbling silently to herself as she made her way to where the party was already underway, pointedly ignoring Mas and Pascali who trailed her closely. She paused at the entryway, taking in the scene carefully as was her wont. Beautiful setting, to be sure - something she appreciated. It was easy enough to pick out those she knew, but what really drew her attention was the guests of honor.

Right out of a sci-fi flick. Sweet Jesu ... still, there are others we've met that turned out pleasant enough. I'm sure the Cetagandans wouldn't have vouched for them if there were anything untowards about them. Hrm ... reports. Almost too pleasant - that much I remember. Never cause any trouble, almost frighteningly helpful and easy to get along with, and that's with their human compatriots we've dealt with on Machiavelli. Strange ... they don't look like they're a race built for peace perse. Then again, look at we humans. Wouldn't think we were capable of some of the atrocities we are. So much for appearances.

All that remained was to determine a course of action. Seeing Treznor keeping to himself in a quiet corner while the others mingled gave her pause. Was there something wrong, or had he already made introductions and was just observing? She was half tempted to try and sneak up on him, but given how late she already was, she figured it would be rude not to go speak to the hosts and their guests first.

<LOS Communications - Devon>
{
<< Sorry to keep you waiting, Dev. Has it been so very dull without me you decided to go off and sulk? [wink analog] I promise to try and make it up later ... if you can see your way clear to joining me for a bit.
}

Nathi made her way to where those in question were, idly toying with the small, carefully-wrapped package in her hands. Tradition, you know.

"Gregor, Tarvi," she said, offering them both a warm smile. "It's been too long, truly. Bene grazie for your invitation - it's a pleasure to be able to attend." She gestured for Pascali to hand over the bottle of Dominion wine, which she passed on to the couple, as well as the package. "For your private enjoyment, on both counts," she explained, her smile turning slightly mischievous. "Surprisingly good flavour to them, especially if you like variety."

Her eyes flickered towards the guests of honor, then back. "Perhaps, if you would be so kind, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of your new friends. I appreciate the information passed on concerning them, however. All reports from Machiavelli have been quite positive, and things seem to be going well."

Close up and still so ... strange. You'd think after all the different peoples I'd met I'd be less apprehensive. I suppose I'm just as biased as the rest when it comes to favoring the usual bipedal races overall in matters of preference. One more thing for me to work past. I mean, if I could work with the Snel ...

<LOS Communications - Shodey>
{
<< Good to see you're here, mia sorella. [hug analog] Call me silly, but I always feel better knowing you're around. Perhaps once we've had a chance to mix and mingle a bit, we could compare notes? Just beginning the 'meet and greet' on this end.
}

"All of the above, actually," Short-Fingers replies, tapping its long spindly lemon-shaded fingers together, delicate fingertips lightly tapping. The Technicians' fingertips have apparently evolved away from the talons that cap the fingers of both Green-Stone and her blue-plated Warriors; instead, the scales fuse into finely grained bony nubs well adapted to picking up very small items. "Our society is mostly segregated by function, so cakjon art isn't quite the same as changjon art... though there are similarities, I suppose. Unlike what we have seen since coming here, we do not... sss... analyze our arts as you do yours. Your arts are made of schools that conflict and adapt with the contributions of members... ours simply are. We have a basic music theory because else there would be no way to share musical ideas, but mostly our music is... sss... extemporaneous? I like your 'jazz,' it's pretty close to what we have, though with different tones and instruments.

"Different portions of the vesh create different music, usually relating to their lives. I suppose you'd think it... sss... tribal, maybe? It's the closest analog I know, with what little I know of your culture. Almost all of our arts are 'folk' because there is no... sss... business in the making of it. No one is a 'professional' artist, no one earns their living by singing or dancing or painting. Most of it is simply made up and it's worth remembering, it's remembered and passed along." He looks up at the avatar standing next to him, then reaches out with one long arm to delicately pinch a morsel from the table. "What kinds do you have?"

Across the room, the Third-Daughter bows respectfully low again, her sly smile for once not out of place compared with her intent. "As a saying I have heard is common among your people goes: 'the night is still young,' no?"

Treznor smiles as he observes the Dread Lady enter the room, and it turns into a smirk as he receives her private communication. He surrupticiously lifts his glass to her.

<LOS Communications - Nathicana>
{
>> Evening, Red. Glad you could make it. We'll have to join up later and compare notes. For the moment I'm enjoying sitting here and observing. The evening has been quite...educational.
}

"Surprisingly similar in some ways but for different reasons," the mechanoid queen replies, procuring a small chunk of cheese from the dish beside her. "While the Queendom certainly has the processing power to simulate acted drama and dance, we generally have less interest in those forms of expression due to their emphasis on a corporeal form of expression. Those who truly enjoy it often times are somewhat eccentric in that they have become 'attached' to a particular body; this sort of eccentricity in the Queendom is sometimes construed as mild yet harmless madness." She maintains her impish demeanor, smile turning slyly knowing. "In theatre, we primarily prefer dialogue-driven stories with emphases on psychology and how characters react to situations, internal moral dilemmas and inconsistencies of character. Our music is also often extemporaneous, although this is more the result of experimentalism than of any jazz-like expression. Our dance is more about choreography, of complex movement and the interplay of those complex motions. Several of our choreographed dances that have become more popular amongst our allies in the Triumvirate are literally intended to change in meaning and effect with viewpoint--they appear distinctly different from above as they do to the front, the side, or any other angle.

"We also have our extemporaneous 'folk' music, though, yet tastes seem to vary the most concerning that." S.H.O.D.A.N. smiles before sampling some more cheese. "Still, our particular mode of existence makes 'remembering' and 'passing along' such doodles of the mind most simple."

<LOS Communications to Nathi>
{
>> Hey, sis. [hug analog] Cribbing off my notes again, hmm? I've already talked to one of the short yellow ones--what they call a cakjon--and they seem to be more on the technical side of things. Speaker has been 'monopolizing' most of the leader's time. They all seem relatively uncomfortable around me; they say they have no AI and I believe them, but I think there's a part to the story they're not sharing.

>> They are certainly sociable, though. Feel free to join in here if you'd like. I know no one's tried talking to the blue meatshielding yet.
}

After bowing once again in closing to Speaker-Rrit, the Third-Daughter turns to mingle a bit more, still bordered by her three Warriors who have, up until and including now, remained silent. They cannot help but look severe, the hardened plates of their faces limiting their range of expression, but the appearance is bumped several notches higher by their complete silence coupled with the way their slitted pupils quickly scan the room and the people that surround them.

<LOS Communications - Shodey>
{
<< They do look rather ... challenging, no? Perhaps I shall, after properly introducing myself to their superior. I'd hate to appear rude, after all.

<< As for not sharing, I suppose we all have our little secrets. Perhaps as they become more comfortable around us, the rest will come out. Until then, and after of course, the usual. Constant Vigilance. With you at least I'll admit, I'm finding myself somewhat biased to begin with. So much for being enlightened and open-minded. It's just that they are so verry different. A failing I shall have to work to remedy. Truth, I look forward to being proved wrong. One can never have too many friends, and it has been a while since we made introductions with another race entirely that we're unfamiliar with.

<< Here goes nothing.
}

After making her excuses to the couple, Nathicana flashes Treznor a warm smile, sending on an acknowledgement, along with a teasing hint of 'furthering his education' after they'd compared notes. As always, shameless and unapologetic, and all part of the game. She makes her way through the crowd towards the Third-Daughter and her entourage.

She watches the group closely, taking a roundabout path to reach them. Even this didn't divulge any clues as to how to proceed. It seemed that this situation, as with others, would have to be approached using best judgement, and played on the fly.

"Buon giorno," she says, nodding politely, then offering her hand slowly, hoping that the gesture is mutually understood after having been in such close contact with human cultures by now. "I am Nathicana D'Aquisto, leader of the Dominion. Iit is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"Gracias, dear lady. It seems to be the night for, how shall I say, interesting gifts," says Tarvi with a broad grin. "'Tis wonderful to see you as well, Nathi." Gregor glances her way and gives a smile and nod, while continuing to speak with the Sidhe.

Elayne smiled lightly. "It is no imposition at all. Yes, we do have a Seelie and an Unseelie Court. However, I am not sure it is that deep of a 'split' exactly. Her High Majesty is Seelie and her husband is Unseelie. It is habitual for nobles to marry from the opposite court, although my wife and I are an exception to that general rule."

"Wife? I didn't realise. It seems our cultures have quite a bit in common with regards to views on marriage and other relationships," he says with interest. He adds with a grin and an exasperated tone, "I only wish the fey of our realm were as similar. They may not have been fighting outright for a sixteen hundred years now, but they certainly seem to enjoy sniping at each other and carrying on as if the slightest insult was a mortal one, and dragging grudges on for centuries. It doesn't help, I suppose, that they're all effectively immortal."


“I trust our culinary requirements were successfully received?” He asked, somewhat brokenly as he resumed the train of thought. “Whilst I had intended to take care of the matter personally, I was unable to do so and trust delegating to a subordinate did not infringe upon its correct receipt -- We have requirements which though bothersome are somewhat required.”

Mallory raises an eyebrow and purses her lips. After a moment, she says, "I'm sure that's been taken care of," in a gentle tone similar to one a person would take when answering the simple questions of a child. "I take it you are not used to these sorts of diplomatic functions, hailing from an isolationist nation? Or is it that such gathering are not usual, even within the Serene^Union?"

Catherine smiled a little and leaned into Elayne. "It's still a controversial law back home." she said. "However, we are rather happy."

Elayne grinned back at her wife before returning her attention to their host. "Sometimes conflicting histories take a long time to heal. I do hope that they are able to overcome their differences, however, even if it has taken so many centuries."

Elayne followed Gregor's gaze over to Nathicana. "We know you have other guests to greet. Thank you, however, for inviting us." The couple curtseyed politely.

The hand that Nathicana offers is indeed understood, just not commonly given to gahnjonlo due to how they tend to tower over most other people. Still, in respect to diplomacy, Green-Stone turns and bows shortly before accepting the woman's offer with a hand that could easily palm an average human's head, making it almost a thumb-and-forefinger affair. Like the cakjon the Third-Daughter runs a slightly hot to the touch while having smooth royal purple scales that feel like the skin of a snake. "Honored, Nathicana D'Aquisto. I am Green-Stone, Third-Daughter of the vesh and ambassador to the Cetagandans. We have heard good things about you and your nation from our common friends. How does Machiavelli Station fare?"

Riordan considered the question posed by the Cetagandan carefully, as he had all interactions out with Kaeneian to Kaeneian. Hesitantly disengaging his constant vigil over Annia and the Rayverr representative, he cocked his head slightly; to explain thoroughly would most likely require the host to listen at length to a background not entirely interesting or memorable.

“Diplomatic functions in as far as this may pass, are non-existent within the Serene^Union, as you uttered latterly. We meet merely to discuss what is outstanding, and to settle on actions to rectify -- Our non-Democratic form of governance is one that demands the fulfilling of order, and leaves little room for negotiation. With no leeway as you might say, there is little reason to dwell on any scenario, and the prospect of a meeting of minds such as this entirely unlikely.”

Annia nodded at the latest exchange, data node as ever in hand, and awaiting precious input. Sating the technological need and supplementing her own curiosity, her nimble fingertips recorded what she felt the integral components of the Rayverr’s statement. Her intellect -- expecting the unpleasantness and rigid protocol of a diplomacy revelled in as much hedonistic tendency as possible in a Kaeneian.

Vesh; a term possibly to describe a central organisational structure from which disseminates law, culture and facets of rule. Possibly hive-like in nature? Seemingly in possession of far more depth than a mere national entity; possibility of some extra-vocal communication? Telepathy or sensory ability beyond understanding at this time?

“Curious,” Annia said aloud, finishing her input. “It seems your Vesh may be in many respects similar to our own Aengelistoria Dominica; both a unifying, guiding and ultimately law-enforcing tenant of our civilisation. It is government, but also our fundamental foundation. Everything committed by a Kaeneian of any meaningful significance is in the name of the Aengelistoria Dominica -- Whom by holding this conversation now, within the umbrella of diplomacy, I represent by assisting my superior.”


The Supreme-Overseer for the Office of Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs was a grandiose title, for someone as unwilling to extrapolate on their abilities or power as Riordan Likonesse. He found irony that did not comfort in the very crux of being for the Office being interaction between the Serene^Union and the outside world; something virtually no Kaeneian boasted a right to attend to, given the overwhelming silence on world affairs of any importance.

Nevertheless, he had been selected and took justified pride in his duty to the Union, which currently called on him to continue the conversation with the Cetagandan to the best of his ability. Taking the modest assumption his host sought more information on the workings of Kaenei, Riordan followed his original line of answer.

“For virtually the entirety of our Earth-based existence, some five centuries, we have continued in the vein of aloofness and self-reliability. This trend in isolationism has however eroded recently, with successive regimes at the pinnacle of the Aengelistoria Dominica enacting more liberal foreign policies -- this conversation between signatories to the Triumvirate of Yut is an excellent example of this change.”

“It is now, under the guidance of our current Governor-General, Sophia Byzainti, that the Serene^Union has changed for the most part; ironically enough her policies of alteration not her own but that of her predecessor, Killthanus. Foreseeing a time when the three tenants of belief; Honesty, Tolerance and Non-Interference would be tested to the point the latter could not remain intact without compromising the former, he outlined a bold plan to bring drastic changes. Due to an unfortunate incident Killthanus is no longer able to provide any tangible impact and thus the full brunt of introducing these drastic alterations fell upon his successor.”

“Governor-General Byzainti is ironically, considered a conservative.” Riordan continued, “Yet she felt honour-bound and wise to realise the liberalisations proposed were not merely good intention, but desperately needed to safeguard the Serene^Union and her people from the myriad threats on this globe. It is consequently her boldness in continuing the reforms of her predecessor that sees myself at this gathering, and indeed hopefully many more in the future.”

“I apologise if my constant recordings prove bothersome to you,” Annia added, having spent seconds previously committing the same sin in copying to the data node. “I am foremost a woman of science, and not diplomacy. I am in actuality seconded to the Office for Foreign and Extra-Solar Affairs from the Department Scientia, therefore duty bound to aid them and in particular be of some use to Supreme-Overseer Likonesse…”

Glancing at Riordan, whom stood some distance away in discussion with a Cetagandan, Annia’s brow furrowed. “I do not believe unfortunately, that I am doing well I the latter regard. I did not prepare as well as I should have for this mission -- My direct Supreme Overseer is Lady Metrasci, whom I am far more comfortable with but could obviously not assist me in matters of diplomacy.”

Eyeing a table in close proximity and boasting a myriad of liquids which to her parched throat, seemed quite refreshing, returned the data node the folds of her dress and gestured, hoping to continue the conversation whilst isolating herself somewhat from the throng of persons now occupying the centre of the chamber.

“Perhaps a drink? I am eager to continue conversing, but my voice grows hoarse through overuse.”

The cakjon speaking to Annia rolls her shoulders, then bobs its head up and down in an expert mimicry of a human nod to make sure the intention of signifying agreement gets across. "The vesh really is the keystone of all rayverr, literally 'we that think.' It's simultaneously the system that gives us organization and the inspiration that goads us to action... something closer to what you call 'family,' I think, than 'nationalism.' At least that's what I've been able to figure after talking to the people here in Cetaganda."

She looks over to the table that draws Annia's gaze. "A drink would be nice. No reason to be uncomfortable, after all."

Not sure this comforts me all that much, comes the brief thought as she accepts with what has become her usual careful smile.

"Machiavelli has been doing quite well, thank you. I must compliment you on your representatives there. A most pleasant people to have aboard, I am told.The adminstration has asked I pass on that it has been a singular pleasure to host them. Things continue to go well with your holdings? Cvechiokal, for example, is not all that far from our own borders, now that I think of it. May I say that I am pleased that action was taken to settle a less than stable nation. No one enjoys problematic neighbors, after all."

Yes, a singular pleasure indeed. And a decidedly odd thing, all told. Never a moment's trouble, not even so much as a random fight in one of the pubs. Always pleasant, always helpful. And from what I've heard, those previously 'problematic' neighbors have been duly quelled - and without the usual measures one might think, so far as we know.

It just isn't natural.

Annia selected at random from the table before her, true attention held not by the myriad liquids of varying flavours and colours but by the Rayverr representative she had spent the previous few minutes conversing with as a duo. Her subconscious urged her eyes to find the form of Supreme-Overseer Riordan, yet her intellect forced the latter to settle for a mere promise of later fulfilment, setting about the pouring of a drink into glass.

“I am eager to ask,” the fledgling Kaeneian adept began, “Where do the Rayverr reside? We ourselves are not native to Earth, and not even of the same species as the Cetagandans though perhaps superficially, we appear greatly similar.”

Tugging at the three-quarter sleeve terminating at her elbow upon the left arm, she illustrated her point with the obviously far paler flesh. Skin coloured so lightly that it might seem immature, as though not prepared for the vigour and burning touch of Sol, doomed to peel and burn in a sun’s fiery glare. Perhaps amiss amidst more tanned individuals, but hardly within the drifts of the northern Arctic, where Kaeneians made their homes.

“We hail from approximately one hundred thousand light-years to the galactic east. From a world we know as Solarri; and to Humans an orb made entirely of the environment of their Arctic and Antarctic - For I have noticed they loathe the cold we find so invigorating and energising. Are you from as far a field as we? I have not met a race as considerably journeyed as ourselves.”

Supreme-Overseer Riordan’s attention wandered from the Cetagandan official, despite his continued conversation. He had been merely amongst a number whom had regarded the entry of Nathicana, the Imperatrice of the Dominion as her status demanded. She observed her openly, for his identity to her was unknown as it was to virtually all attending and he stood to gain or lose no prestige over such obvious observation.

He had spied the Emperor of Treznor earlier, engaging in much the same activity he partook in now though far more brazenly, reclining upon a comfortable chair and almost seeming to enjoy the activity of removing oneself from the social loop to regard the circle. He knew something of the relationship between them - Nothing more than what one might find through common data links and publicly available nodes.

Ironically, both were intrinsically allied to the Serene^Union, yet even pleasantries between the two people were few and far between, and when one considered the relationship between Kaeneian and Treznor, non existent. He sighed softly, evading the detection of the Cetagandan he was still superficially in conversation with; Governor-General Byzainti would look upon him poorly if he eschewed the opportunity to converse with Triumvirate allies she held in such high esteem.

Riordan was more concerned that he was dangerously, almost imminently close, to falling into a clichéd diplomatic exchange. Kaeneians excelled at small talk even less than they did at hosting parties; frequently to the point, blunt and uninteresting to engage in wider conversation outside their preferred circles of knowledge. Nevertheless, with Annia utterly engaged with the Rayverr and delegation to her unacceptable in lieu of her subordinate rank, it fell upon the Supreme-Overseer to spearhead a charm offensive upon the Dread Lady, Emperor Treznor and all manner of others - Riordan did not feel imminently pleased at any of these prospects.

Annia grimaced visibly at the concoction she he had tasted moments before, then chastised herself for allowing such a reaction to be readable by those present. The liquid was tart, strong in taste and so close to citrus in flavour as to beg the question as to whether the product had undergone any dilution. Relegating the fiery drink to that of baggage, she returned to conversation, having consulted her data node for moments beforehand.

“This is my first social gathering outside of the Serene^Union,” she said somewhat defensively, despite no proffering at the hands of the Rayverr. “I am unused to the culinary intricacies of other races and unfortunately, my palette as well as that of my kin is keyed towards the decidedly nutritional-though-mundane. Do the Rayverr have a favourite meal? I have grown personally fond of Terran chicken - A bird that can be prepared in many different ways and is pleasingly simple.”

Satisfied enough time had passed since her first sip, Annia dared a second and found it interestingly enough, less fiery in its assault upon her tongue. More impressed with her ability to adjust than anything specific to the taste, the Kaeneian woman felt herself settle somewhat - Perhaps she did have what it took to work out with the Department Scientia; amongst the stars and the people who inhabited them.

Riordan saw the opportunity develop as Nathicana began to converse with a Rayverr representative - Twice the conversationalists halved the individual contribution to said conversation, and allowed him to both acquiesce Governor-General Byzainti and limit any possibility of him casting a poor light on the reputation of his Office and the Aengelistoria Dominica at large.

“Imperatrice Nathicana,” he began solidly. “I am Supreme-Overseer Riordan Likonesse, of the Aengelistoria Dominica and representing the Serene^Union. I must convey to you the apologies of Governor-General Byzainti - She had sorely intended to be here tonight and had wished to converse with you on matters varied and ranging; alas the supreme office of the Union prevented such.”

“Accept my apologises on this interruption, for I did not intend to snatch your time for myself. I did however find it unacceptable to pass up an opportunity to increase the few words shared between our governments - We have been silent on a great many things, though this stance is apparently, changing.”

Riordan did his upmost to mask the unease in his voice as he uttered the final sentence, himself not entirely comfortable with the rapid and blossoming foreign policies and international intervention which steered the Serene^Union from pariah to known neighbour. Pressing onwards so that no silence became overbearing, the Supreme-Overseer strayed dangerously close to small talk and nonsense.

“I also harbour personal condolences from the Governor-General on the loss of your envoy to us Mister Enzo Vettori - Lost along with all hands aboard the Scoperta. A tragedy for which the Union takes responsibility and I assure you as we speak, the Department Scientia is conducting a full investigation and at my earliest opportunity, I shall have a copy of the final report made available to you. We lost also our Overseer Aengelis, Kristilanna Lgealis, a fine upcoming Kaeneian and an intellectual loss. Such is the risk of traversing the sea between stars, and her unforgiving grasp.”

“However loss is tempered with progress,” he added. “I have completed selecting consular staff for the Kaeneian embassy at Unity Island, and Internal Administration assures me construction efforts will begin within the next few weeks. Unfortunately the tropical climate whist undoubtedly pleasant for Humans verges on the extremely uncomfortable for my people - Just as I am confident the people of the Dominion, so close to the Mediterranean, would not find pleasant home in the Arctic as we do.”

Looking away from the unreadable expression of the Dread Lady, Riordan fixed his gaze upon Annia, watching her take a considerable swig from a glass of a particularly fiery looking liquid she held in her hand. Narrowing his eyes, the older Kaeneian silently muttered his displeasure - His task was difficult enough without reigning in the exuberance of youth and the folly of the inexperienced.

"Are you quite done socializing yet? We do have a purpose here, after all." The mental speech from the Grass Walker, Ghaaro, stops the Kraat in her tracks. With an apolegtic given to the human she was 'conversing' with, her armor-plated head gives a baleful look with her reddish eyes at the Grass Walker.

"You know, for being the picture of grace and beauty of our species, you are quite rude." The tone of Kraat's gnashing mouth-plates takes on an irritated staccato rhythm.

"Phoo! I was a dock-worker before the Awakening on Titan. You think I have time for diplomatic niceties? The Awakening left me out of a job and in a position I don't care for. I'm used to heavy lifting, not ..." His hands tap his legs. " .... not this damn mincing around like some fae. It's like getting General Gaarm in a lead role in an opera!"

Kraat gesticulates as she spies a SHODAN Avatar in discussion with one of the Unknown Quantity, and stops. "Be that as it may, it's the position you find yourself in now, and you best get accustomed to your new abilities. I was a jeweler and artificer, and i'm also in strange ways. But it's where we are now that matters. So stop whining like a sick Hhoular." She ponders listening in on the SHODAN, and decides against it.

"Let's see if there's one of the Unknown Quantity not engaged."

"Machiavelli has been doing quite well, thank you. I must compliment you on your representatives there. A most pleasant people to have aboard, I am told.The adminstration has asked I pass on that it has been a singular pleasure to host them. Things continue to go well with your holdings? Cvechiokal, for example, is not all that far from our own borders, now that I think of it. May I say that I am pleased that action was taken to settle a less than stable nation. No one enjoys problematic neighbors, after all."
"Indeed," Green-Stone replies, moving her head in a skilled simulacrum of a human nod, "which is why we acted. It would not have done for friends of friends to deal with such obnoxious neighbors, only acting to destabilize things. I do not mean to say you could not handle it yourself," she continues in a cordial voice, although her sly smile doesn't quite seem as out of place as usual, "but there are but six degrees, as we have heard some of you say, and it has worked out quite well for everyone in the end.

"Since this is certainly the time and the place for such things, perhaps at some point we could break away to 'talk shop?'" Another smile. "Since our little experiment in socializing aboard Machiavelli--and it is something of an experiment, honestly--is going so well, perhaps we can work our way into something closer?"

"Let's see if there's one of the Unknown Quantity not engaged."
Of the three Technicians, one is talking to the Kaeneians and another is talking to the queen of Zero-One, leaving one last one to wander somewhere in the vicinity of Styger and not look completely lost. Hieronymous is currently sampling the buffet table, and the three blue-plated Warriors continue standing as an idle yet attentive entourage around the Third-Daughter. They note the entrance of the Sakkrans--there being some similarities--and don't look hostile nor even impolite. They simply look like soldiers on duty.

Nathicana nods thoughtfully at Green-Stone’s response, though said thoughts were interrupted by Riordan’s introduction. “I believe that has potential, Green-Stone. My thanks for your time and consideration. I look forward to discussing such things later when the opportunity permits.”

With a graceful little bow, she withdraws to one side, to try and reparse what Riordan had been saying, and to gather her thoughts before responding.

“Begging your pardon, Supreme-Overseer, my mind was on other matters. Please convey my regards to Governor-General Byzainti – I too would have enjoyed the chance to meet.” She offers her hand in more formal greeting, offering him a respectful enough nod.

“It is unfortunate that we have both suffered loss on this venture, but such is the way of exploration at times. I am certain those involved were aware of the risks. I only hope that from this perhaps answers will be gained and advances made in your studies. I assure you, those who gave their lives in service will not be forgotten.”

“As for the embassy, I’m pleased that you will be sending along representatives, though I regret the climate is less than hospitable. You do realize that there are several adjoining tunnels that can be utilized so as to avoid the heat of the day, yes? As for climate controls, should any assistance be needed, you have several allies ready to help. I’m certain we can come to a somewhat comfortable arrangement if we put our minds to it.”