NationStates Jolt Archive

Thunderbay sat along the eastern side of the body of water that gave its name, in the shadow of a tall volcano that seemed to dominate the skyline. It was a quiet, quaint place that seemed to have escaped the trials and tribulations of the 20th century without much damage. Massive live oaks, most over a century old, shaded buildings that had quietly risen over the past few centuries. The streets were fairly empty of cars, (being expensive to license for city residents) one could stroll down the wide sidewalks and enjoy a day in one of the cities many park-like squares. It was like many of its subtropical british colony counterparts, a city of deep verandas and shade. It was a city that seemed to have retained the decorum needed for a modern monarchy. On the north boundry of the city was Apethorpe Park which surrounded Apethorpe Palace. The west side was bordered by its diametric opposite, Wittelbach.

Wittelbach was a city that seemed to never sleep, or stop changing. It was a city of large skyscrapers, industrial buildings, terrace housing, and the occasional block of townhouses. Blue cabs, limos, and trucks seemed to fill the streets here as people on the go were too busy to wait for the subway or the tram. If the two cities didn’t literally stand across from each other, separated in some places by only a narrow canal, they would seem to be completely different worlds, let alone in the same nation.

Thunderbay was the political center of the United Duchies; a city of continuium and tradition. Wittelbach was a reflection of its namesake family, a commercial and industrial megalopolis that was constantly changing, tearing down and building anew. The only thing they shared between them was their city block sized squares lined with live oaks. (A late 19th century addition to Wittelbach as part of a revitalization effort to increase property values and decrease worker riots).
Both cities were both visible out of the windows as the Macisiktani diplomatic aircraft came in on final approach. The two cities, diametrically opposed as they were, were both watched over by the royal palace and its vast grounds.
Because of how Roosevelt Ridge, a saddleback ridge between the massive Mount Bayern and Silver Mountain to the west, rose up from the low lands , Apethorpe Palace could dominate even the eighty-five story KIOF building.
The same diplomats would notice this also, the plane seemed quite high at first, but as the wide saddleback ridge rose up the passengers would likely wonder if they were going to crash in the vast fields and woodlands of Apethorpe Park below. Instead they landed on the royal Apethorpe airstrip. Surrounded by trees, it seemed that the two strips of concrete were almost alone in the woods. The only visible buildings was a terminal that looked more like a small country house perched at the side of the tarmac and a series of large, bunkered hangers that actually had trees growing on their roofs
.
The Outer Ministry’s Permanent Secretary stood on the ‘tarmac porch’ of Air House. He watched the Macisikani aircraft land and shook his head as it slowed and began to taxi back. “We’re quickly approaching an election, the Outer Minister has been made Chief, and the Assistant Minister is a complete twit. Now I’ve got this on my plate, I hope you can work your good charms Bethune.”
Bethune was actually sitting in a large rocking chair. The older man tried not to start to rock in his superior’s presence. Luckily his bad legs allowed him to sit without being socially untactful at the moment, but rocking would be bad form all around. Bethune decided not to comment, presently he was of the mind that the Chancellor rather idiotic, especially in his choice of mistresses. “I will try sir,” Bethune shifted in his jacket slightly. It was fifty eight (F) right now which was cool for this part of the Klatch.

OOC: Much apologies for tardiness; internet access is... touchy right now.
IC:
On board the plane people were stowing away laptops, palm pilots, and sheafs of paper into briefcases; they had crowded around the windows when the planes came into land, after one of the junior delegates had pointed out the twin cities - the delegates had been interested to see how the Alconians had integrated modern architecture into an older city, and found the solution to be interesting.
In what the Klatchians must be coming to assume was the national dress code, the delegates were clad the fashions of the Victorian gentry, and the Imperials had sent a considerable number of them.

When the plane came to a halt, they emerged into the sunlight; Arn-Maciska did not consider Alconia and Hubris to be a dangerous area, so the security escort sent with them was not as numerous as it could have been. They were the statutory 20-something-year-old men and women in black suits with hearing problems.

The head of the delegation was an older woman clad in a maroon dress; like the rest of the delegates she seemed perfectly at home in the cool air. With the others in tow, she approached the two Alconians with the frank stride of someone who has a lot of work to be getting on with, but doesn't mind doing it. She came to an abrupt halt in front of them; the others hung back a few metres, so as not to intrude upon their hosts.

"Mr. Babcock I presume? Dame Anthea Aldrali, special Imperial Envoy to Alconia and Hubris" she said with what was actually a rather pleasant smile, extending her hand towards the Permanent Secretary. There was something in her stance that indicated she'd much prefer he simply shook it.

OOC: Er how many people did you send?

Babcock was dressed in a long tan riding coat open to reveal he was wearing a dark blue double breasted suit. He was holding a dark fadora in his hands as the Macisikani approached. Babcock of course integrated the foreign custom of shaking hands with the Alconian one of a headbow without skipping a beat. "I am quite honored to make your acquaintance Dame Anthea". His english was accented with german, english, and dutch flavors. Most people confused the Alconian accent with that of South Africans.

Bethune raised an eyebrow at the name of the envoy, as he stood up on his cane. The United Duchies, and inparticular the Alconians, placed a great deal of stock in the ancient greek goddess. Considering that their was still a pagen Cult of Athena within the United Duchies, and its almost unoffical capacity in some areas, sending a Dame Athena was a fairly bad choice; equivilant of sending a Jesus Remiraz to the Vatican.

Babcock of course knew this too, but continued to plow on as if nothing were wrong. "May I introduce Mister Bethune, Director of our Diplomatic Directorate," He indicated the older man who was now walking forward with a cane. Bethune took Dame Athena's hand and gave a small headbow. "Charmed to meet you Dame Athena,"

Babock turned and walked into the terminal, guiding Dame Athena by the arm in a polite, gentlemanly manner. As they stepped in, it was apparent that the building was, or once was, a fairly nice house. The wide hall had twenty foot cealings, the floors were of a dark wood finished to a shine, and the space was appointed in massive, late victorian furniture. Babcock continued to talk as he moved forward, "The United Duchies is quite honored to have your presence here to help smooth out diplomatic relations between our two nations. Personally, I wish I could attend to this directly, but there has been quite a wirlwind of activity recently, and the Grand Chamber is demanding my presence for their foreign relations comittee meeting. So I've assigned Mister Bethune, who is quite experienced at this type of meeting, to deal with the matter personally."

Babcock turned the group through a wide doorway and into what was once a double parlor. The room was fifted with tall windows with deep carved moldings, two marble fireplaces, and comfortable chairs and sofas along the walls. Babcock walked to the far end of the room to allow all the visiting delegates into the rather spacious room.

The Perment Secretary turned and gave a headbow to the group. "Welcome to the United Duchies ladies and gentlemen. I hope you had a pleasent flight. We are quite happy to have you here, however I should note a few quirky laws that sometimes foreign travellers miss. First, it is illegal to drink, or possess, Pink Bunny Cola in the United Duchies. This is for safety. Second...you should not travel outside of the city limits without being in the company of armed security personel, this includes the Park here. And do not pet the wildlife, it may look cute and fuzzy, but likely it is a dangerous preditor that would prefer to have you as a meal rather than as a freind."

Babcock paused and turned to Dame Athena, "I am quite sorry I must cut our time together so short, but I do have a confrence comittee meeting to attend. Mister Bethune and the staff of Naval House will see to your needs."
Babcock almost immediatly vanished out the front parlor door, and then out the front door; leaving the Mackistani delegation in the hands of Director Bethune. Bethune was in the front doorway of the parlor; having walked down the hall rather than come around through the parlor. He nodded quietly, playing with the top hat in his right hand as he leaned on the cane in his left. "Well then, I suppose we should be getting you to Naval House..."

*****
As the delegates exited their aircraft, a group of men and women in kaki uniforms with white tabs on their shoulders appeared out of a doorway built in the base of the porch. They ran to the aircraft and began to unload all of the delegations bags. Each one would take two from the aircaft and then carry them back through the low doorway. There the bags were placed on a conveyor belt and run through x-ray and density scanners before being taken by another set of uniformed men and women to the cars parked infront of the terminal.

OOC: 27 officials; One envoy, eight negotiators, and eighteen assistants. Plus security personnel. This was put together by the Civil Service after all.

The envoy coughed politely as she shook hands. "Mr. Bethune, it's pronounced Anthea. Not Athena. Slight difference, but significant." She thought it was one of two things; her own accent, which sounded quite Israeli, or the simple fact that foreigners seemed to find it impossible to pronounce Macisikani names. She wasn't offended, in fact, she was used to it, having been sent to Rotovia in the past, which was predominantly Greek and so prone to confusion on the point of her name. The delegates followed their leader in silence; if they were impressed at their surrounds, they were hiding it well.

When the Permanent Secretary listed the laws there was a general nodding of heads; the laws made sense, although the bit about "Pink Bunny Cola" caused more then a few raised eyebrows and curious glances. No-one knew what it was, so any risks of violating that law were slim at best.

"Well then, I suppose we should be getting you to Naval House..."
Dame Anthea looked from side to side; there were no objections, and if there had been she wouldn't have cared.
"Of course Mr. Bethune, lead the way."

*****
The scans of the luggage would reveal nothing out of the ordinary, except in one secured case, which the Imperial Security officers informed the Alconians contained the ceremonial weapons of the delegates; the sabres and katanas that protocol dictated Anthea and her attendents wear at any ceremonial functions. They were more then happy to open the case and display its contents.

(Egads...
Bethune shook his head, "Oh, quite..." Well that is one disaster avoided... Bethune thought as he watched Babock rush off with the Envoy.
(er...back to main time)

Bentune nodded, and looked at the large group for a moment. I wonder if Parks got the mini-bus moving on... Bethune heard the vehicle pull up from the open front door and relaxed slightly.

Bethune turned and hobbled out the door. He paused at the top of the stairs and returned his hat to the top of his head before continuing down to the drive. Three large limo's with the arms of the Outer Ministry were parked in the cicular drive. A white mini-bus with the royal family arms had pulled up behind them and was now being loaded with luggage.

The door of the first limo was opened for Bethune by a uniformed man and Bethune slowly entered the vehicle. It was obvious he needed the cane rather than just a fashion accessory. The limos were quite large, with two sets of three seats facing across from each other. The mini-bus had comfortable seating for about twenty five individuals.

Bethune watched quietly how the Macisikani worked their seating arangements out. In his mind Bethune was trying to work out why they needed so many people. Almost three squads of personel? I've negotiated non-agression packs with only one assistant. I mean what do they need so many people for? Make coffee, tea, or is Macisikan going to try to put agents in? Attempt to overwhelm our internal security? Well no matter, we're going to have to use the large confrence room obviously, best make the call.

Bethune pulled a black phone out of a hanger built into the roof support of the car, and dialed. "Jess, Bethune...good...no we need to switch confrence rooms, we've got a larger party...yes...well add that to the agenda....good, I'll call you when I get home." Bethune hung up the phone as the vehicles started to move.

The circular drive turned into a narrow paved road with large overhanging trees on both sides. It was rather a nice drive. As the vehicles began to slowly accelerate, they passed a group of mounted horsemen in red uniforms trotting in the opposite direction. "Royal Horse Guard..." Bethune commented. "I never did understand why an island nation spent so much money on horses rather than more ships for the Navy. Of course considering how well the Alconians used their marine mounted infantry against us, I suppose it was justified."

The cars went through a large gate and into a huge roundabout with a tall fountain in the center. As they did so, the convoy picked up a pair of motorcycles with flashing lights.

Bethune paused realizing he was talking outloud, "Oh, well sorry about my ruminations, usually I am the one getting the tour not giving one. He looked out the windows at the passing line of mansions. "Old Embassy Row, right between Apethorpe Palace and the captial building, worked quite well when the world ignored the Klatch. Now we have them all over the city." Bethune paused again, seeing if there was any reply from those in the limo with him.

*****
Actually, there was a bit of humor in the Royal guards about security commenting on the locked case of swords. Almost everyone of them was wearing a fairly long sword-bayonet about thirty-two inches long. "Just be careful where they wear them, Because they will be required to follow our code of honor where they do" someone mentioned. There was no reason to open the case, the swords were fairly obvious on the density scanner.

OOC: Key to understanding how things are done in the UIK is watching Yes, Minister and Yes, Prime Minister, and then wondering what would happen if the Minister and Sir Humphrey were on the same side.
----------
The Imperials divided themselves neatly; the juniors and security piled into the minibus, trusting the Alconians to look after the senior delegates. The seniors and whichever of the juniors got to the head of the line piled into the limos.

Anthea and her fellows were silent during the comments on the Royal Horse Guard exchanging questioning glances; they weren't sure, from the tone, if they comments were directed at them or not.

The second comment, on the embassies, seemed to be looking for a response, or at least an acknowledgement.
"In Arn-Maciska the embassies are concentrated in the diplomatic precinct; it's easier for us to provide security that way... only a select few are located outside. And it's tradition." Dame Anthea replied, not delving into the complicated rules on embassies outside the precinct. The rest sat with polite, but firm, silence.

*****
The Macisikani security officers didn't smile; SIS had their senses of humour surgically removed upon recruitment. They merely nodded and joined the rest of the delegation, except for one which motioned over one of the Royal Security guards, and asked if a précis of the honour code could be delivered to Dame Anthea as soon as possible.

OOC: SIS: Secretariat of Imperial Security

OOC: Love those shows...and yes I do understand how you got so many people. However, I should point out that Alconians tended to keep their Civil Service small...(Well his Grace prunes when needed actually)

Bethune nodded, "Well considering you have your security assigned to everyone leaving their embassy. I suppose having them centrally located does help in reducing the manpower requirements." The convoy entered another large roundabout, this one infront of a large romanesque style structure. "Ah the capitol (http://www.lalasreisen.de/amerika/assets/images/cny.jpg) building, the south grounds are quite lovely. The north gardens were destroyed when they built the mushrooms." Bethune was refering to the rather ugly modern white concrete structures on either side of capitol building.

Bethune paused again, looking out the window. "So do you have any questions Dame Anthea? I'm not quite the person to play tour guide of Thunderbay."

The road was down decending more steeply into the city below. The street was a mixture of older 19th century buildings and more modern structures of the same approximate size. The odd thing was that the new buildings actually matched the propotions of their neighboors, which made them fit into the city fabric far better than one would normally expect.

****
The sargent in charge of the bag transfer station scowled at the SIS agent for a moment. "You'll likey find a book on it at the Naval House, likely in the library or a bookcase. I don't know what level an envoy is...or a foreign knight for that matter." The sargent turned away to attend to his duties after that. The Royal Guard didn't take requests like the one the SIS agent had just made. Actually most of the men and women there knew the basic rules, but how to apply them to outsiders? Not a clue. All they knew was that there was no such thing as a ceremonial sword in the United Duchies.

OOC: And His Serene Majesty does like the business of government to continue even when there are no politicians around to do it. It all evens out.


Well considering you have your security asigned to everyone leaving their embassy. I suppose having them centrally located does help in reducing the manpower requirements."

Dame Anthea, who had been admiring the scenery out the window, smiled at Bethune's words.
"You've been looking over our government website I see," she murmured, turning to face him, "I apologise; it hasn't been revised in some time. We're getting to it, but the Foreign Service Information Bureau is short-staffed," she gave an elegant shrug "Other departments keep stealing personnel." Abruptly she changed subject. "But yes, we require SIS to accompany foreign embassy personnel. Perhaps you recall the Rotovian "Watchers" Scandal? We had some trouble with staffers at the Rotovian embassy and Ministry of Defence installations. The outcome was... military. Her Most Serene Ladyship-" the First Minister "-would not like a repeat."
Behind her one of the SIS men tapped an aide on the shoulder and whispered something.


"So do you have any questions Dame Anthea? I'm not quite the person to play tour guide of Thunderbay?"

She smiled slightly.
"Actually, no, I have no questions right now. Sera Perez covered most everything we needed as regards the start of negotiations, and the like, as well as the details of our accommodation she had on hand; you've explained the rest..." the knight broke off as one of her aides whispered something into her ear.
"Ah, actually I do have one query; one of your security officers mentioned something about an honour code that applies to the wearing of swords and the like. You may notice we are unarmed now, but for the final signing of any treaty, tradition requires that we don ceremonial weapons. Sabres I think is the English word, though "katana" would be more accurate. Though some individuals favour a more-" she broke off and smiled "I digress. Since we are in your nation we can waive that part of protocol if it could cause problems. But this honour code, would it be possible for someone to deliver a written brief to us please? And may I suggest that we place this on the agenda for discussion; perhaps under the heading of protocol."

*****
The SIS agent thanked the sergeant, then permitted herself a tight smile as she joined the rest of the delegation. She'd expected to be refused, but was curious if they'd try as a courtesy. She didn't take offence though (these were foreigners after all), and simply informed her superior of the development; said superior had relayed it to the agent riding with Adrali.

Bethune said nothing about where he had gotten the information. Actually it was the Directorate of Information, which had not provided a breif on the Rotovian "Watcher" incident. Add to list, kick the appropriate desk officer over in S.I. for not finding that earlier

However the mention of the honor code made him shake his head. "Really, the blasted thing has never made sense to me actually. The best source of the information on the honor code is Alcona Honor, Manners, and Fighting Tactics by Dupree. Actually quite a thin volume, but any breif I kick the staff into preparing will likely just be the first chapter of Dupree anyway. I'll have a copy sent around to er...here when I call into my office again."

The vehicles had been going along a fairly wide road for some time now. The large live oaks here were actually a bit small compared to the rest of the street. The vehicles slowed as they approached a block on the left that was at odds with the other homes surrounding it. Most of the local houses were tall and narrow with sideyard gardens. The present block had two large buildings, that appeared to be homes in an 18th century style, seperated by a low long brick building with small windows on the second floor.

The limos continued south down the road, while the Bus turned into a narrow drive between the first 'house' and the low building. The mini stopped under a portico and the driver turned. "Welcome to West Bay Club, the porters will show you to your rooms."

The limos did not travel far, only going farther south just pass the end of the block. On the left was a rather large square filled with trees, and at the center a large cenotaph of some sort. On the far side of the square was a redish stone building with a large clock set in the prominent front gable. The square vanished as the limos pulled a wide U turn, protected by the escorting miltia motorcyles, up to the sidewalk before the house at the southern end of the block. It was apparent now that there were two marine guards in blue and red uniforms standing at station at both ends of the stairs rising to the first floor.

An older man in a red steward's jacket and white pants stepped up to the first limo and opened the door. "Welcome to Naval House..." the process was repeated by two additional stewards for the other two limos.

Naval House appeared to have been constructed sometime in the late 18th century. It was three stories of dark red brick on a raised basement of dressed stone blocks. The first, or 'ground' floor, had tall windows set under plain jack arches. Bethune followed everyone else out of the first limo and leaned on his cane. He made an eye gesture indicating Dame Anthea as the lead of the group.

The senior steward picked up on the gesture and turned to envoy, bowing. "Welcome Dame Anthea..."he paused with the odd name for a moment, "I am Mason, your senior steward for your stay here. If you'll follow me please."

Mason turned and led the knight up the front stone steps and through the front door. The hall was not overly fancy, finished in a yellow flock paper with a few small peices of furniture, it was a narrow space. "On your left is the dining room, we have the table set for thrity two at the moment...." The room beyond the double doors was quite large, and fitted out in a restrained regency style. The north wall of the dining room was actually semi-cicular with a fireplace set in the center. "...On your right is the Library..." This room was obviously original, fully paneled in some honey toned wood with a pedimented over mantle dominating the room. There were several bookcases along the walls filled with various books.

The hall opened up into a stairhall, a wide wooden staircase circled up to the next floor. "On right is the downstairs bedroom with in-suite bath and through here is the drawing room"

The drawing room was obviously a later addition to the house. The room spaned the whole rear width of the structure. It had two marble fireplaces with guilded mirror overmantles. It was a bright room with narrow french door s opening onto a wide veranda to the east and windows both on the north and south sides. The verada overlooked an attractive garden The cealing fifteen feet above was actually frescoed in blue sky and white fluffy clouds with various small animals looking down on the people below.

Mason walked across the persian rug and opened one of the french doors. "The house shares a private garden with the Dean's Residence next door. We also have a lovely courtyard garden between the kitchen and guest wings. I have taken the liberty of having you in the yellow bedroom upstairs, it has lovely views of the garden and the square."

There was a distant ding noise, "Oh yes there is an elevator in the pantry. I suppose Mister Bethune is coming up from the basement actually."

Bethune's comment about not understanding the honour code earned him smiles and a couple of quiet chuckles, but conversation seemed to die there. The Imperials craned their necks as they pulled into Naval House, curious to see what sort of accommodation they'd been allocated.

Dame Anthea smiled and inclined her head at the Senior Steward's welcome, and spearheaded the delegation as they followed him into the building; one of the aides nodded to Bethune as they went passed, an indication that the knight would thank him for the welcome at some later stage.

As they were given the grand tour, the delegates occasionally muttered in appreciation of the decor of the house, nodding at appropriate points; they seemed to like the restrained flavour of their quarters. But on the whole they were gracious, polite, and as close-mouthed as a clam.

Dame Anthea raised an eyebrow at the mention of Bethune coming up from the basement; she wasn't suspicious, but did think it was rather odd. She was ready to shrug it off as a strange foreign custom if no explanation was forthcoming.

"Mr. Mason..." she paused, "Or is that your first name?" another pause, to allow for an answer, then she continued, "Ah, I see. Thank you. Well, would it be possible to send for some coffee, tea, that sort of thing?" she smiled and touched her throat by way of explanation.

(OOC: Raised Basement, the floor of the basement level is three to four feet below street level)

Mason seemed to pause for a moment, as though the need to ask the question was completely absurd. " Sargent Thomas Mason Mam. Of course, we have the welcome repast already waiting in the courtyard, oh which of you is the one desiring kosher food? Well ask the maids there is only some non-kosher cheese and some ham sandwiches that need to be avoided. "

The cheif steward turned and walked back to the staircase and then down the staircase hall. Bethune was moving in the opposite direction. "Ah Mason, do you have a copy of Dupree in the Library?"

The steward paused, "Any place of consequence that has travelers in this land should have a copy of Dupree. I think we actually have the fourth printing of the third edition..."

Bethune seemed to scowl at that for a moment, then shrugged. "I usually ask Baroness Winton when I have a question..." He continued on towards the Library and the book.

Mason nodded and continued down the hall to the set of low doors underneath the stair landing. One opened onto a porch that looked out over a formal garden. The porch continued wrapping around the inside of the courtyard and offering access to several rooms built into a low two story building built along the west and northwest sides of the courtyard. On the otherside, was an identical structure, but the porch between the dependency and the house was replaced with a small brick wing. Between the two L shaped dependencies was a wrought iron gate that looked onto an alleyway. Several men and women in black were standing there, along with a uniformed marine.

The courtyard was split into two parts. The portion closest to the gates was some sort of herb and vegitable garden broken into raised beds by several gravel pathways raidiating from a central point with a fountain. It was actually fairly orderly and neat, a cross between practical and ornimental gardening. Nearer the main house, the courtyard was a gravel terrace with two small trees rising from it. The trees were going dormant and offered little shade, but the temperature outside didn't need it. Several tables were spaced out across the gravel, each with five or six chairs and covered with white tablecloth. Near the western dependency was a long table set out with plates of sandiches, two wheels of cheese, a platter of crackers, stemware, several tea pots and pitchers. There were three women in white jackets with red trim waiting behind the table.

"I took the liberty of setting up in the courtyard to avoid a wind from the south." Mason explained It will also help since some of your staff has to stay next door. And can wander in after they have been given their rooms. We only have twenty bedrooms in the house, excluding the security barracks below the drawing room."

******
West Bay Club
The personel with the hearing problems were told that they would be staying in other quarters nearby and pointed towards a gate set in the side of the drive. Here they would be meet by a uniformed marine who was waiting for all the security on the bus to meet him there.

The lower level staff were not getting such a hospitable welcome as their betters. As each was led by the porters to the front desk with their luggage (if it hadn't been stuffed in the limos) they were handed a keycard to their room and a folder as they checked in. The West Bay club was a Naval Officer's club, considering the number of uniforms the other guests were wearing. Which might have been why security was not considered much of an issue, or perhaps too intrusive.

The porters would then walk through a wide sitting room overlooking a court yard, as they led their charges to their room. Various groups of people would look up at the Macisikani with odd looks, as though they were trespassing. The porters would ignore the looks, and inform the new guests that they were not allowed in the Library, Main Mess Hall, Officer's Court, or the Pool. They were allowed to use the Gallery, the Sitting Hall, the Billiard room, and the Junior officer's mess. Actually they were banned from the second floor of the main building altogether.

The West Bay club had a wing of modern hotel style rooms built on a back of the club. The five story wing was almost invisible to the main road because of the low eight foot cealings and the distance from the street, Actually the wing had a suite on each floor that overlooked the shared garden, but none of the visitors ranked as a knight or an admiral, so they got a standard room with private bath. Each room was finished in decent mass maunfactured furniture and a rather large bed.

OOC: Gotcha.

Dame Anthea looked over her shoulder, "Jackie, step forward." A slim young woman stepped forward and smiled at Mason. If she was descended from what people typically think of as Jews, it was a long time ago. All in all, the Imperial knight seemed amused that Mason looked taken aback by her request; in the UIK, what she was doing was simply good manners.

The delegates followed the Senior Steward in an orderly fashion; when they emerged into the courtyard, hats were replaced on heads (having been removed when they entered the building).

Dame Anthea surveyed the tables with idle interest.
"Thank you Steward Mason," she shifted her gaze back to him, "your hospitality does your nation credit," here she paused; the other delegates were starting to fan out across the courtyard, several drifting towards the tables but not actually touching them. "We shall wait for Mr. Bethune to return from the library," she said; none of the delegates appeared to take any notice, but they had all heard her, and the note of finality in her voice. After all, they might be guests of the Alconians, but it would be very ill-mannered for them to take refreshments without at least waiting for Bethune to join them.

*****
West Bay Club
One of the SIS men, possibly the agent in charge, possibly not, nodded at the appropriate intervals, and thanked the porters, quite courteously, for their assistance. The rest of the SIS might have been deaf mutes. In response to the odd looks they were served, the SIS returned them with blank stares, devoid of any emotion whatsoever. They weren't here to square off against naval officers.

When informed of the prohibitions on movement, the SIS spokesman simply nodded; he seemed amused about something.

The nine aides who had drawn the short straws to stay next door had peered around with the vaguely interested gaze of sightseers, unfazed by any looks they received, dispersed among the SIS group. When the porters were done with them, they siphoned off one by one into the courtyard. The SIS disappeared into their rooms.

It was not considered polite to correct a Knight, so Mason ignored the rather poor use of his title and name together. "It is Alconian tradition ma'm that the guests should first take their food and drink, and then wait for the host to eat and drink before the guests do. In most formal situation that is."

Jackie likely would have vanished easily amoungst the Old Jewish families of Alcona. Jews, and their skills, had been embraced early on by the Dutch settlers, which had generally induced the English and Germans to do likewise. And these early Jewish families had propsered and were amongst most good families of the Alconians. The newer Jewish families had not prospered as well as the earlier families. Most having settled in the cities around World War II from eastern europe, they were typically only found as commoners still and somewhat insular.

The maids did not show any fustration at the guests not taking food or drink. There were three plates of sandwiches piled high, ham and cheese, turkey and kosher swiss, and cucumber sandwiches (again a kosher recipie). There was a white cheese (imported and likely not kosher) and a chedder cheese wheel that was well known to be such. The beverage choices were likely a bit odd, mixed drinks, lemondade, sweet tea (sweetened ice tea), hot tea, and hot (hard) cider.

As Mason stood there waiting for Bethune, he decided to switch topics. "Which one of your aides should I discuss room assignments with Ma'm. It shall be a few moments before Mister Bethune can get back down here?"

Five or six minutes later, Bethune appeared on the porch and made his way down, obviously painfully. He was carrying a small book in one hand. He walked towards one of the wandering aides. "Here my good fellow, find your appropriate counterpart to look over this text, I will be sending some copies you can keep around tommorrow afternoon." It was a copy of Dupree (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Alconian_Honor%2C_Morals%2C_and_Duels) bound in red leather. Bethune, his limp more pronouced made his way over to the food and beverage table.

The only real reaction to Mason's comment about the order of eating was for one of the aides to pull out a notebook and start scribbling furiously; Dame Anthea had simply murmured "Nevertheless," and stared into space.

"Which one of your aides should I discuss room assignments with Ma'm. It shall be a few moments before Mister Bethune can get back down here?"
"That would be Aleski, from the Protocol Office" Dame Anthea replied. "Aleski, could you come here?" A youthful-looking man ambled over; something about his eyes gave the impression he was older then he looked. "Aleski, would you look over the room assignments with," she fumbled with the title for a moment - "Senior Steward" had sounded wrong, and "Mr." would be insulting to an officer, but he'd indicated that "Senior Steward" was his Primary. She gave up, and settled on "Sergeant Mason? Thank you."
"Of course, Dame Anthea," the man murmured, his face impassive.
"Oh, and see me when you're done," at that Aleski paled slightly; the tone was promising retribution for something, probably in the form of an unpleasant task.

"Here my good fellow, find your appropriate counterpart to look over this text, I will be sending some copies you can keep around tommorrow afternoon."
"Thank you Mr. Bethune," the aide said, accepting the volume, then glided over to the one scribbling in his notebook; Aleski was still occupied talking to Mason, and had waved the aide away.

A few of the delegates cast sidelong glances at Bethune's limp, and frowned to themselves; such problems were very rare in the UIK, and most often temporary. They had begun drifting towards the table as soon as he'd appeared, and started to make their selections as soon as he arrived.
None of them seemed overly inclined to chat; the only Macisikani voice in the entire courtyard was Aleski, still discussing room arrangements with Mason.

OOC: egads, I seem to have been asleep at the wheel.

Mason nodded and waited for Aleski to return his attention to the matter at hand. Then began, "Well I selected the most pleasent room for Dame Anthea, the Yellow Room. The Oak Room on the second floor is the largest, but only has windows to the west, so it becomes a bit dark. The Oakburst room and Green Room are the next nicest, overlooking the garden or the square...."

The steward pulled two sheets of paper from an inside pocket. It was a floorplan of the building. "....Then the downstairs bedroom, the upper floor bedrooms all share two baths. Their designed for junior staff members. The dependencies have another nine bedrooms, three over the kitchens and six in the old servants wing, shared baths again."

******
Bethune wandered over to one of the maids and began to ask a few questions about things in a quite voice. When one of the Macisikani aides seemed to lean a bit too close he turned and asked. "Ah yes, my good fellow would you be so kind as to find what the good Dame Anthea desires on the Agenda monday morning?"

Aleski looked at the floor plan for a moment, working things out in his head, then nodded.
"Dame Anthea in the Yellow Room, yes. In the Oak room we should put Ser Vasard, from the Trade Office, while in the Green and Oakburst should be placed Sera Vidari from Immigration and Ser O'Niel from Ambassadorial. Doesn't matter which one in which room, though," he paused, thinking. "In the downstairs bedroom should go Sera Patel from the Ambassador-General's Office. Sera Sidral, Special Agent O'Leary, and Mother Midral can all go over the kitchens. I'll take one of the old servants' wing places, and the junior aids can argue over the rest," he looked up at Mason. "Don't bother assigning them rooms; they'll only swap them anyway."

*****
The Macisikani had very, very, particular views on working women; they were expected to be good at it. It came from having as many female Cenobriachs as male ones. Hence the delegation had a gender parity.

The aide Bethune had queried was Aleski's other one; the first was flicking through the Dupree. She smiled, half amusingly, half charmingly and replied, "No need Mr. Bethune, we've all been briefed," she didn't seem at all fazed by the "good fellow" comment, discounting it as unimportant. "Sera Perez-" back in Arn-Maciska "-indicated what points she wanted discussed before we left, and we worked out the order on the plane; after the pleasantries are concluded, she would like the Diplomatic Agreement and its particulars to be first on the agenda; it is the purpose of this delegation.
"This would lead into discussion of a Non-Aggression Pact, followed by issues relating to trade, tourism and the like, which leads into an Extradition Treaty, followed by Protocol; that will lead into the Ambassador's particulars - any special concerns you or we might have as to the choice of Ambassadors, special facilities required in the Embassies, security, etc.
"That would be followed by Mother Midral talking to you about the Church, clearing up any problems, explaining the Church's operating policy overseas, and so on. I have a list if you like." The aide paused here, then added "Although we were thinking about asking for the Ambassadorial particulars to be discussed straight after the Agreement; the two are connected, more so then the Pact and the Agreement". When finished, she smiled again.


*****
While Bethune talked to Aleski's aide, one of the SIS agents tapped Dame Anthea on the shoulder and whispered into her ear; she stiffened slightly, but didn't betray any reaction beyond that. If Bethune, or any member of the Alconian intelligence service was paying even the slightest attention to the UIK press, they'd know within the hour what Dame Anthea had just been told; the First Minister had announced a Cabinet Reshuffle.

Mason nodded, scribling notes down on the plan as Aleski detailed the berthing aragements. The final statement caused him to pause. Naval House was run by the Navy, and tended to see such things as 'swapping berths' a bit too undiciplined. The marine sargent in Mason wanted to educate the young pup of an officer in how things should properly be done. But Aleski was not an officer, but one of those foreign desk pilots who tended to be as much real use as a screen door on a submarine, or a Dyellian K-class sub.

"Certainly sir, however if you will tell your juniors to inform the staff of which rooms they have decided on so we can make sure the billet is in proper order."

*****
Bethune had been making a comment to the young man with the large ears not far away. The young woman slightly behind him apparently assumed he was speaking to her. Bethune turned, his light grey eyes slowly becoming darker as the young woman continued.

"Sera Perez indicated what points she wanted discussed before we left, and we worked out the order on the plane; after the pleasantries are concluded, she would like the Diplomatic Agreement and its particulars to be first on the agenda; it is the purpose of this delegation.
This would lead into discussion of a Non-Aggression Pact, followed by issues relating to trade, tourism and the like, which leads into an Extradition Treaty, followed by Protocol; that will lead into the Ambassador's particulars - any special concerns you or we might have as to the choice of Ambassadors, special facilities required in the Embassies, security, etc.
That would be followed by Mother Midral talking to you about the Church, clearing up any problems, explaining the Church's operating policy overseas, and so on. I have a list if you like." The aide paused here, then added "Although we were thinking about asking for the Ambassadorial particulars to be discussed straight after the Agreement; the two are connected, more so then the Pact and the Agreement". When finished, she smiled again.

Bethune nodded, "Quite, your agenda is far broader than ours at present. However, if you could write that all down so that I can hand it off to my staff this evening and allow it to be forwarded to the relevent departments? I should also point out that United Duchies really is nonsectarian in most matters, so perhaps the Church doesn't need to inform us of its activites?"

****
The shake up was noted, just in one of the few places beaucracy was allowed to spawn in the United Duchies, the Bibliotech. The Bibliotech was effectively the massive joint data processing center of the Navy, International Investigation Service, and the Outer Ministry. A note about the 'cabinet shake up' was emailed to Bethune and his colleages. At the moment is was considered a minor annoyance, no more...no less.

Actually the Unification of Reformed Oceania was far more important to several ranking members of the United Duchies government.

Aleski's face and eyes went blank when Mason paused. The civil servant had dealt with the military before and knew exactly what they thought of people shifting rooms, often conveyed with only four-letter-words. But more importantly he'd been assigned to Dame Anthea before, and knew she believed sleep was an "optional extra". And he'd only have to deal with the sergeant for a week. Dame Anthea, well...
"I will inform the junior staff of the arrangements, and I am sure they will strive to minimise any disruptions," he said blandly. Let the Alconian make of it what he wanted. He suddenly wanted this to be over, so he could go and get chewed out by Dame Anthea for whatever it was he'd done.

*****

The young man with the large ears had completely ignored Bethune, and simply turned away, nearly tripping over his feet as he left the table; one of the more senior aides grabbed his arm and righted him. No-one seemed to find his embarrassment amusing.

The aide nodded to Bethune, and produced a single sheet of paper, with the agenda set out in concise points.
"We anticipated that," she said neutrally, "and prepared this for you."

I should also point out that United Duchies really is nonsectarian in most matters, so perhaps the Church doesn't need to inform us of its activites?"

She chuckled at that.
"That would be nice if we could leave it at that, but Sera Sidral, from the Attorney-General's office over there-" she indicated a severe-looking woman, "-would remind me and tell you that the Church must always inform foreign governments of the operating procedure it follows in foreign states" she paused for a second, then blandly added "I'm sorry; it's law."

*****

Cabinet reshuffles normally only occurred in three cases; when a Minister had died or when a Minister had failed, and neither had happened this time. For Dame Anthea, the signal was a clear as a bell; as sometimes happens, the balance of power in the UIK was shifting, and the First Minister was adjusting her grip on the reigns of power.

Mason nodded, and folded the floorplans up. "Thank you sir, the staff will appreciate your thoughtfulness on the matter." Mason then gave a short headbow to the aide and waved over a junior steward who was standing under the porch. He quietly handed over the floorplans and made some comments barely audiable. Take primariy....room....juniors...set out in the hall...fend for themselves...help if they know where their going...

The junior steward nodded and vanished back under the porch and into the basement. By the time Dame Athena and her staff were done refreshing themselves, the primaries luggage would be in their rooms. The juniors luggage would be waiting in the hall to be claimed.

Mason assumed a parade rest stance for the moment watching Aleski to see if there was anything more the Macisikani wanted.

*****
Bethune gave a general bow towards the female aide as she handed over the Macisikani itinerary. However, his eyes were quite dark and shooting daggers at the woman, as rather poor thoughts of her ran through his head You had your itinerary already and you did not provide it the first time I asked? No, you had to blabber your way through it and force me to ask for it a second time! What! is this go fish or something? Did I forget to say oly oly Macisikan first or something? Bloody moronic twit, if you were in the Outer Ministry I'd have you disciplined or sacked.... Bethune was a good enough at his job to allow his voice to sound normal. "Thank you, my staff will review it. And of course if Macisikan law demands that the United Duchies be informed, we will oblige your law and your custom."

Bethune looked about, it appeared everyone but Aleski had gotten food and drink.
******
The Alconian cabinet did not reshuffle, occassionaly a minister was sacked or retired to sooth an annoyed Grand Chamber, but the Chancellor was his own man. Well his own man to a point. That point being that if he ruffled too many feathers within the Grand Chamber, well they might just ask the Duke to disband the Chamber for a new election. The Duke of course could refuse, as was his right, and in some circumstances would do so without the Grand Chamber asking him to; of couse since Elizabeth, the Crawfords had tended to do that only when government was in serious breakdown, or the Chancellor had proven themselves a complete incompetent. All of this mattered to the Chancellor since he was elected at the same time, although independently, as the Keys of the Grand Chamber.

If Dame Anthea had any clue as a diplomat, she would have realized that the UIK powershift might mean nothing to her hosts. And that the United Duchies operating without a Outer Minister could actually be a worse situation for this meeting. After all, if the Chancellor couldn't assign someone to the post, it ment that his majority in the Grand Chamber was gone, and that his Chief Minister was a lame duck. Which is the perfect situation for minority parties to band together to call for a new election.

"No Sergeant Mason, thank you for your patience with a very difficult group of people," Aleski replied seriously, before making a beeline for the tables.

*****

The aide merely smiled, nodded, and departed.
Bethune might have had his blood pressure relieved if he knew that Aleski would chew the woman out at some later stage for the "misstep"; Bethune wasn't a chew toy for junior civil servants, and it was not nice to treat him as such.

Aleski glided in to replace her next to Bethune, helping himself to the food and drink.

On the other side, Dame Anthea was in a low-voiced discussion with one of the senior staffers.

*****

There were twenty-one Ministers in the UIK's cabinet. Never any more, never any less. Of those twenty-one, at least six had been completely removed, and nine had stayed where they were (including the First). Due to the complex weaving of alliances among the Three Houses the makeup could alter for a variety of reasons. This time, the makeup indicated that the First Minister's hand had been strengthened; most of the new appointees were her favourites.
Dame Anthea was astute enough to realise that the matter would mean little to her hosts, unless they began comparing political systems. Still, she was concerned; deMa'iska wasn't the sort to have the power she'd gained, and not do something with it.

Back in Arn-Maciska, (Acting) Rechtaire Perez was studying reports out of Klatch with concern. The vacancy in the Alconian Outer Ministry was noted, and while it was nice to see that the Alconian Civil Service seemed to be coping without difficulty (a civilised people!), the lack of a replacement Minister told her that either no-one was willing to fill it, or the Chancellor would be unable to keep him. In the UIK, the Chancellor would have been toppled by a motion of no confidence at showing such weakness; as this was a foreign nation, Count Aldreset, who'd kept his job as Deputy External Affairs Minister, would soon start to wonder if Dame Anthea's mission was a fool's errand.

Bethune was one of "Alexander's Hubarians" which ment that junior civil servants using him as a chew toy was rather worse than one might imagine. He watched the offending junior prance off and then turned his attention to Aleski.

Bethune said nothing, just gave a glace to the maids along the table. The maids simply nodded to Bethune, obviously a sign for something. Bethune pointed to a glass of hard cider and a ham sandwich. One of the maids collected it for him and brought it out to a table; the diplomat followed in her wake, his cane making odd indentations into the grey gravel of the courtyard.

Bethune stopped at the table and thrust his cane into a set of rings built out from the side of the metal chair. He then placed his weight on the metal chair and raised the glass of cider. "To Peace, His Serene Majesty and His Grace, may we all do them honor in the days ahead." Bethune sipped at his cider after giving the toast.

*****
The Internationalist Online
Thume Going Down the Flume?
Tonight begins the autumn session of the Grand Chamber, however many believe this session will be considerably shorter than normal. Chancellor Thume survived the recent scrape with the Grand Chamber and the Alliance over the Burungi crisis. However, it would seem that personal news has now fatally weakened the Chancellor.

As you all know, the recent end of the Burungi crisis with favorable results and the defeat of the Gay Marriage law forced Chief Minister Van Orton out of office. He was replaced by the Outer Minister Robert Henke. Unfortunatly the cabinet changes ended there, when many of the Rectors demonstrated strong resistance to replacing Henke with the Assistant Outer Minister. Most of this resistance has been stoked by Miss Amanda Blackwell, Key of Torrhaven. Key Blackwell appears to have become an influential member of the Chamber on foreign matters since her dramatic wounding of the government over Ilek-Vaad. The Chancellor then began to shop around John van Miles, Key for Blood Harbor as the next Outer Minister over the past few weeks. However, lobbying for Van Miles was seriously derailed when the Social Register dropped a bomb shell last month.

The Social Register, a rather pathetic tabloid magazine, revealed that the newly remarried Chancellor was having an apparent affair, implying that the young woman was quite close to Chancellor. These reports were orginally considered nonsense until digital movies of Phillip Thume and a young woman engaging in a rather graphic sexual trist appeared on a Allenean adult website. The Hubarian Chronicle was able to obtain copies of the orginal video and revaled that the images were of Thume and his new step-daughter on a small island off the coast of Hubris sometime after his wedding. Investigations by the Thunderbay Herald, published two weeks ago, revealed that Thume and Melissa Denay had been having a sexual relationship for the past three years; the same time Thume was romancing Lady Ult, Melissa’s mother. Although most Alconians tend to be tolerant of October-May relationships, they are not tolerant of extra marital affairs. The whole Denay matter has resulted in both a messy divorce for Thume and sinking popularity polls for the government.

Sources within the Grand Chamber have begun to leak about former Chancellor Van Hubble organizing a vote upon dismissing the Grand Chamber and holding a new election. If this occurs, the United Duchies will be plunged into six weeks of multi-party campaigning. It is believed that Thume will attempt to hold onto his seat, having a fairly large war chest remaining from the previous campaign. However, some believe that Van Orton himself will attempt a run for the premiership as well; there has never been any love lost between the two. A Van Orton-Thume match up might well become quite nasty and messy dividing the left leaning voters between left of center Thume and leftist Van Orton. Finally there is some word that several of the Opposition parties may actually present one candidate to the people rather than a hodgepodge of lesser candidates. Most people bet on Van Hubble as the likely candidate, although some within the KPU warn that “it is premature to announce any candidate yet…”

The opening meeting of the Grand Chamber will be presented on Klatchian Coast News Three, A-SPAN and via webcast on the Internationalist Online starting at 9:00 pm local time.

The Ministry liked to keep its envoys informed, and Dame Anthea was no exception. To raise the issue of his government's likely collapse with Bethune would be awkward, so she didn't mention it.
When he proposed the toast, the Imperials stilled, then raised their glasses, echoing Bethune's words.
"Peace, His Serene Majesty, His Grace, and honour!"
After they had drank the toast, one of them stepped forward; she was dressed much the same as the others, in dark, subdued colours, but she had a silver cross hanging around her neck.
"We give thanks to our hosts for welcoming us into their home, and thank them for sharing their bread, warmth. and shelter."
The others raised their glasses again and echoed "Thanks to the hosts."

After a few moments Aleski's other aide, the one with the Dupree, approached Bethune.
"Excuse me Ser Bethune, I know this is meant for later discussion, but I couldn't help but notice that you referred to the Grand Duke as "his Grace". Ah, so I take it there are no special additions to the honorific?" his tone was one of polite inquiry, and he was holding his notebook in one hand.

*****

Juniors make mistakes, it was part of the job description; if Bethune choose make an issue out of it, it would only earn Dame Anthea's contempt for being over-sensitive and pursuing a career in the Diplomatic Corps (after she finished finding out what in the seven hells was actually going on). Compared to some of the breaches of etiquette committed so far, and some of the ones encountered by other Imperial envoys, it was very minor indeed, and the purpose of one of the key Macisikani agenda items was to make each other aware of these things and avoid them in the future.

On the other hand, said junior was very soon the recipient of Aleski's hissed anger, starting with "Why the hell didn't you refer him to me?" and building towards an order to apologise.

*****

Office of the Rechtaire for Klatchian Relations, Ministry of External Affairs, Arn-Maciska, the UIK
"... and that's how it stands now," Julia said, laying down the paper on her desk. "Bloody idiot couldn't keep his fly closed." her face showed clear disgust. Macisikani were forgiving of premarital affairs, but this was close to incest in their view.
"At least he didn't get her pregnant," the speaker was a youthful-looking Caucasian man with jet-black hair, his feet propped up on the edge of the desk. His name was Alexius Vattyen.
Julia made a face, "Small mercies. The idiot is bringing down their government. If that sort of thing ever happened here..."
"... His Serene Majesty would dismiss the government. "Conduct unbecoming a Minister of the Crown" is enough to fire someone, but such stupidity at that level? At Exec level? Con gets a little anal about that. Political bloodbath," the last two words were said in chorus with Julia.
"Not to mention that our lovely Iron Mother would slice the offending party's gonads off with a letter opener," Julia replied with a laugh.
"That's a mental image I did not need... so what are you cooking up in that lovely head of yours?" Alexius turned playful, but serious.
"I am contemplating things... Valdir wants normalised relations with one of the Klatch, she doesn't care who. With our Ex-Junior Minister Alscarna kicked over to Science, A&H lost their champion. Deputy Minister Aldreset did favour DB, but they can't govern a mango, let alone themselves, L'tan... I'm not sure about him..."
"The Ruiri favours Vrak," Alexius replied with dead certainty, clasping his hands over his chest, smiling at the ceiling.
"Ah... your dear Auntie El, hard at work." Julia replied, reaching for a phone. "But something tells me she wants to see how A&H pans out first... but now, let's get Chinese..." she started dialling.
Alexius grinned; Vattyen was the maiden name of Elgiva deMa'iska, his aunt, the First Minister; his "dear Auntie El" was up to something. But then again, it was those times when she wasn't up to something that made people worried.

Bethune raised his glass again at the Mackisikani toast. He then sipped again and sat down in the chair. He looked up at a small bird in a tree for a moment, and turned to the aide when they approached.

"Actually he does have a higher honorific, however since Unification His Grace has not used any greater honorific than the simple His Grace." Bethune paused realizing that this would be an odd subject, "You see there was a strong anti-monarch feeling within a good deal of the population of Hubris, nothing as it had once been. By avoiding the term 'His Majesty' and its various permutations Alexander made the bitter pill of once again being a monarchy a little more palitable for some of my fellow Hubarians. It also allowed us to avoid some awkward issues with the former Dyellian Tzar, who declared himself Tzar of the Klatch." Bethune paused again and took a sip of his cider.

"Technically, Alexander is The Grand Annointed King of Hubris and the Outer Islands, with the jaw dropping honorific of 'His Divine Athenian Majesty.' A bit of a mouthful, so I am personally glad he decided not to resume most of the honors and titles of his Vaughn ancestors. Now is there anything else?" Bethune's right hand quietly sat next to his sandwich.

******
Well considering the word on the street in Port Olympus was that the Diplomatic Corps of Vrak might be disbanded under the new King, attempting to make diplomatic inroads with the Vrakians could be problematic in the future. After all they had just eliminated the position of Ambassador to the Klatch and handed all of the responsiblities over to the Senior Vrakian Key.
(OOC: reporting from other threads here...)

The aide smiled politely. "Thank you for that Ser Bethune," he made a note. Several, in fact. "I'll tell Dame Anthea; we'll need to notify our Ambassador when he's choosen. Or she," he pocketed the notebook and smiled again, this one of humour. "Still, it could be worse," he smiled wryly "It takes ten minutes to introduce Constantinus formally..." he paused, then nodded "Thank you again Ser. Excuse me, I'll see if I can get Dame Anthea to see you."
The non sequitur might have caught a foreigner off guard, but the aide had noticed Aleski was still chewing out his counterpart for a breach of etiquette, and it would have been terribly rude of the Imperials to talk to each other and not their host.

There was a brief discussion across the courtyard; Dame Anthea turned her head to look at Bethune, her eyes flicking from him to the sandwich and back again several times. The unspoken question was clear; Would you prefer I let you eat in peace?

*****
Arn-Maciska

Julia looked up from a steaming plate of beef in black bean sauce with rice as one of her aides reached over Alexius to hand her a report; Imperial reporters in Port Olympus had picked up the rumours. Taking a moment to curse the fact that their best intelligence from Klatch came from the Macisikani National Broadcaster's journalists, she read the memo, then let it flutter to the ground, laughing, waving the aide out.
"What?" Alexius asked, spooning out more rice.
"MNB says Vrak's new King might do away with their Diplomatic Corps," she said chuckling.
"I love the Klatch. So chaotic. So disordered," he chuckled, "Yet it keeps working. Knock of the diplomatic corps, really..."
"I know," Julia replied, "Now I see why Alscarna favoured the Alconans, they can keep their act together for longer then the five minutes we spend watching them. Not much longer, but longer. Pass the pork."
Alexius did so, then leaned back "You know, it seems every time we talk to the Klatchians things start to fall apart for them... odd, isn't it... have you scoffed all the beef in black bean?"

(OOC: I only just got internet back, so I'm a little behind; thanks for the heads up)

Bethune raised an eyebrow at that, technically he was filling in as host, so perhaps it was considered polite not to leave the host alone. "Quite, well I am glad to be of service." was his rather curious reply.

However, Mason seemed to desire to talk to Bethune and had appeared at his side when the Mackisikani aide took his leave.

By the time Dame Anthea turned to look at Bethune he was quietly chewing on a bite of sandwich nodding as Mason wispered something into his ear. Bethune swallowed and replied quietly to Mason, pointing to a large envelope in Mason's hand. Bethune took another bite of sandwich as Mason pulled out a slim, but rather large phone. Mason then made a call;anyone with any technical expertise would have realized it was a satilite phone rather than a cell phone.

Bethune turned away from Mason and noticed Dame Anthea looking at him. The eye lanquage was obvious. Bethune just looked over at Mason, with a slight tilt of the head, Obviously I am quite engaged at the moment Bethune bit into his sandwich again and chewed, for a moment. Mason whispered something into Bethune's ear. Bethune nodded, and looked at Mason as though really this ought not to be his problem.

One of the maids walked up behind Bethune and made a comment. Bethune pulled out his watch and shook his head looking at the time. Bethune stood, relying on the chair and pulled his cane out before walking over to Dame Anthea.

******
(Well, I happen to be traveling next week so this might be my last post until april on this thread)

The aide gave Bethune an odd look before darting off to interrupt Dame Anthea.

When Bethune sent his silent response, Dame Anthea simply nodded in reply and turned back to the conversation with her associates. From the expressions on their faces, it was a sombre conversation on a topic that they weren't too pleased to think about.

Of course, knowing the Imperials, it could have easily been a discussion about the Imperial Cup races.

When Bethune approached they fell silent, and solemn expressions were replaced with ones of polite inquiry, Dame Anthea turning to face him.

(OOC: no problem; have fun!)

The aide gave Bethune an odd look before darting off to interrupt Dame Anthea.

When Bethune sent his silent response, Dame Anthea simply nodded in reply and turned back to the conversation with her associates. From the expressions on their faces, it was a sombre conversation on a topic that they weren't too pleased to think about.

Of course, knowing the Imperials, it could have easily been a discussion about the Imperial Cup races.

When Bethune approached they fell silent, and solemn expressions were replaced with ones of polite inquiry, Dame Anthea turning to face him.

(OOC: no problem; have fun!)

Bethune gave a short bow, “Dame Anthea, I must unfortunately take my leave of your company for the time being. I have some other business to attend to in Wittelbach before the end of the weekend; Mason will see to your requirements.” Bethune paused and turned towards Mason, taking the envelope in his hand. “I have an invitation here for you and two guests to join Earl Jasford, Dean of the College of Peers to dine this evening at seven thirty. I should also point out that he has invited Baroness Winton, the Royal Envoy to join him.”

Bethune paused, the Baroness was something of one of the more, interesting individuals of the United Duchies. Hero, accused murderess, brave survivor, political pawn, savior, and the most dangerous diplomatic neophyte in history were just some labels the press had bestowed upon her; none really fit the current head of one of Alcona’s most distinguished families. However, most non-klatchians found her particular choice in pets disturbing.

“As such she will be bringing Sir Chairman Meow Cathwell...” he knew that the rest of the sentence was going to bring giggles in their minds, if not outright condemnation, “...who is an eight hundred pound Klatchian Tiger. I should point out that Sir Meow, as he is called by most people, is a Knight Companion of the Order of . You might find it silly that we knighted a Tiger, however he did save the life of a Knight of the Order of the Griffin regardless of his own life or limb which does make him worthy of the honor; since he was not saving his mistress at the time, nor under her orders.”

Bethune handed her the invitation, “If you or security staff have a problem occupying a dining room with a tiger, I would ask that you politely decline the offer.”

As Bethune spoke, mentioning names, Dame Anthea unknowingly joined Julia Perez in cursing the fact that the UIK was reliant on CNN for its information on the Klatch, only Dame Anthea kept her cursing silent, hidden behind a pleasant mask.

When Bethune finished, derision was completely absent from the Macisikani; polite puzzlement reigned for a brief pause, broken by Dame Anthea as she accepted the invitation gravely.
"But Mr. Bethune, why would your knighting a tiger be silly? Is not the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast one Ozymandius Llwellyan, a fox? With a knighthood? Is not the ruling elite of Vrak a race of walruses? The Lord Cardinal Perez has paid his respects to the Walrus King on behalf on the entire UIK..." she paused again, and a frown marred her forehead; at this point the feeling usually stole over people that her exact age was incredibly difficult to guess - the skin was not lined as Caucasians are wont to do, but her eyes spoke of years of experience. One of her aides - the severe-looking lawyer - took advantage of the pause to murmur something in her ear; she was waved away.
"Well, sentient non-humans are extremely uncommon in the UIK-" almost unheard of truth be told "- but then again, there's a reason for that..." she stopped, as if the penny suddenly dropped. "Is it the case that Sir Meow is not a sentient non-human...?" she paused long enough for Bethune to answer before continuing.

"Ah. I see. It doesn't really matter here, save as a point of interest," What a strange people... it takes all sorts, I suppose... "Security concerns aside, and I rather doubt the blacksuits would be happy with me in the same dining hall as a tiger, I'm afraid I would have to decline in any case," she was genuinely regretful. "My purpose is to conduct our negotiations with your government, to the mutual satisfaction of all, and not to, shall we say, engage further," she smiled apologetically. "My instructions are quite clear. But I, and my house, are honoured to receive this invitation from such an august personage, and I hope that any slight my refusal may cause can be remedied in the future." The Macisikani started to disperse across the yard, one of them touched Dame Anthea lightly on the shoulder, a few words were exchanged, then the knight turned back to face Bethune.
"I shall not detain you further," she held up her right hand, palm outwards, "The sun shine upon your path, Mr. Bethune of Alcona and Hubris." It was clearly a ritual farewell of some kind; but her manner indicated she wouldn't mind at all if the Alconan responded his own way.

Bethune scratched his nose, "Well let us say he is thought to be sentient by most experts who study this kind of thing. The problem is that he, and his race, are unable to vocalize any known language. Obviously this becomes a problem for some people. Add in that are not many of his race that have ever been studied in the first place, due to the fact that their habitat is the Orc infested hinterlands of the Klatch, well you can see why the Outer Ministry worries about this kind of thing."

If Bethune could jump up and down and sing an aria he likely would have. Avoiding the rather problematic offer was a blessing to the the Outer Ministry. Of course the Outer Ministry was in something of a turf war at all times with the Royal Envoy for the simple reason she was technically the external representive of the Duchies Privy Council rather than the Cabinet.
Historically the Royal Envoy was sent to deal with negotiations that needed a little more persuasion; say a full Alconian fleet with air support. Obviously most of those in the Outer Ministry would have prefered the Baroness to be off planet somplace, and not sitting across the street from the Macisikani delegation.

Bethune just gave a bow again, with a "Thank You Dame Anetha" and turned to hobble back to his car.

(fast forwarding a bit)
By late that evening it was likely dawning on the Macisikani delegation that they were apparently left to their own devices for the next day. The preliminary schedule that had arrived started on Monday with both a meeting and a formal reception that evening. However, Sunday was rather a blank. For a supposedly secular government, the United Duchies seemed to regard the Sabbath as sacrosanct. Or perhaps those that did were powerful enough to force the governments hand in the matter.

The Dean's Residence
"So what do think they'll do?"
"Hmm?" The blond in the summer dress looked up from the cards in her hand.
The young Earl of Jasford was looking across the table at her, his brown eyes obviously intent on her and their eyes met for a moment. The countess Jasford, not looking up from her cards said, "What the world are you on about now Jack?"
She dropped an ace of clubs on the table and moved her red rook to take the baronesses black knight.
"You seem to have all the cards tonight," the Baroness replied in a dark mood, she had been planing on using that knight to remove blue's queen that had somehow wandered far away from any protection except a single pawn.
"I was wondering about our guests across the garden, I wondered..."
The blond baroness dropped the jack of dimonds on the discard pile and moved her bishop to take white's last unfortunate rook.
The move caused the Earl to pause as he watched Ann drop a card out of her hand, a four of dimonds.
"Well that's check," he announced.
Abigal, who was blue at the moment, continued to study the cards in her hand for a moment. The eight year olds concentration allowed the adults to resume their conversation.
"Bethune is a smart cookie really. We will know more about them, and what their intrests in us are by what they do tommorrow than anything they say in the next week. The question in my mind is will Dame Anetha allow her staff to wander off into a foreign capital, or hole themselves up in their nice little compound for the day?"
"Or will she send out her staff on data gathering missions?" the countess added, she looked at the smaller version of herself across the table with a slight smile; Abigal was a known tomboy and explorer, much like her mother.
Abigal took the pause in the conversation to put down a ten of clubs and move her queen into postion. A white pawn bit the dust.
"Oh, and I have this six of clubs too..." Abigal announced.
The Earl looked at the board and knocked over the white knight. "Beaten by a captain of the list, a blasted admiral, and the next Naval Marshal. What is a poor Marine supposed to do?"
"Like all who wage war against their betters, you are designated to..." The countess paused as she watched her youngest ride a tiger past the archway and towards the front door. "...find out where my childern are going at this hour when they should be in bed."
"Aye Aye Captain..."
(Back from the dead, or at least the morgue, get this toe tag off damn it!)

When it came to the options discussed by the Royal Envoy, the correct answer was "None of the above, really". Dame Anthea might believe that sleep was for other people, but even her work ethic bent before the terrible scourge of the jet lag.

Sunday was spent fumbling around the kitchen for pots of coffee and tea, brushing up on the briefing memos that Julia had sent with them, playing a few card games, and a conference call with the Acting Rechtaire and Alexandr L'tan, the Junior External Affairs Minister. Few of them seemed inclined to wander away from the compound; Anthea herself and Aleski were the only ones who bothered stepping outside for longer then a few minutes at a time, going for a short walk around the gardens, making sure they didn't stray out of sight of Naval House. They argued the whole time, bickering about the heats for the upcoming horse races in Intaan Province.

After all, if the Alconians would give them the day off, they were willing to take it as easy as Julia back in Arn-Maciska would let them.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, they were feeling refreshed and relaxed... and quite well-disposed towards their hosts.

((I can't! Someone's superglued it on you!))

The Macisikani did learn something on Sunday, that the kitchen was the domain of the cooks. They did not tolerate their guests rummiging about and those poor aides discoved themselves quickly ejected.

However, both tea and coffee were provided rather quickly, along with cinnamon buns that were rich in both frosting and spice. (And guaranteed to add two inches to your waste line if you ate one since they were each the size of a small cannonball)

Monday Morning
The Macisikani delegation awoke to a bright happy morning. The smells of another wonderful breakfast, almost a repeat of the one on Sunday, waffed up from the dining room. Bacon, eggs, poach salmon, hasbrowns, pecan waffels with cane suryp, and rich honey glazed mutton chops sat in their warming trays along the buffet. The stewards carried around pitchers of tea, coffee, orange juice, and milk.

Outside the vehicles were waiting along the strech of roadway. The drivers stood about watching the morning traffic pass as the passengers appeared and embarked. When fully loaded the small caravan departed Naval House and went north with the fairly light morning traffic.

A few minutes later the cars pulled though a set of gates and into a long curved drive that passed through a park of grass and colorful flowers. In the center of the park was a three story, ivy covered, cut stone building (http://alumni.princeton.edu/~cl1954/photos/Aug02%20Nassau%20Hall%20Front%202lowres.jpg) with a small cupola. Two men in light blue uniforms with silver piping stood at attention on both sides of the tall, narrow set of doors.

The lead limo was forced to pull up short to the steps as a rather racy looking convertable was sitting there. The driver of the car, a long haired blond, was apparently inspecting the tonsils of her passenger with her tounge. The passenger was apparently enjoying the experience but the hum of the limo's engine behind broke his focus. The passenger opened the door and got out of the car, and turned to look at the Macisikani delegation getting out of their vehicles.
Bethune of course looked a bit embarressed being caught in a personal moment by Dame Anthea. He stood quietly by the bottom of the steps as she approached, obviously being polite and waiting for her to catch up before entering the building. Before he could say a polite good morning to the knight and her staff, the blond interupted.
"Hon, don't forget your hat." The blond tossed Bethune his top hat with a flick of the wrist. "Now then the clock upbraides me for the waste of time, now play nice dear..." The red car started forward accelerating at a rapid pace as the blond waved her hand. The car took the corner where the drive returned to the main street at a fast pace, a screetching of breaks filling the air.

Bethune turned again towards Dame Anthea. "Good Morning, Dame Anthea...I hope you enjoyed your Sunday. Shall we lead the way in."

Bethune turned and hobbled up the stairs, quite a bit more sprly than he had moved on Saturday. They passed through the pair of arched doors at the top of the stairs and entered a wide lobby that raised up two stories. The walls were decorated with various plaques around the bottom half and flags hanging from the wall above. The room was illuminated by a large electrified candleabra that dominated the space.
Bethune took off his coat and handed it and his hat to a waiting footman before leading the Macisikani delegation across the marble floor. At the far end of the room was a second pair of huge wooden doors. However, Bethune turned to a smaller set in the adjacent wall.

The long room beyond had obviously been set up for the meeting. A long wooden table sat in the center of the paneled room with enough chairs on one side for each primary of the Mackisikani delegation on the side facing the long windows. Along the wall was a long row of chairs, obviously for the Macisikani aides. The table only had five chairs on the otherside, with a few aides sitting in their chairs next to the windows. As one entered the room, there was something odd, as though the wood panelling was actually glowing somehow.

Bethune hobbled off towards his chair as the other Alconian delegates rose. Permanent Secretary Babcock rose and gave a bow to Dame Anthea. "Good Morning, I hope you all enjoyed our hospitality these past few nights. Dame Anthea may I introduce my fellows at the table."

Babcock pointed first to a short, stocky man in a white and silver mess dress uniform. "...Rear Admiral Moses Colm representing his Grace's Defense Intrests..." Babcock turned around and pointed past Bethune to a portly lady with gray hair and reading glasses, "This is Ima Burns, Undersecretary of General Trade for the Ministry of Trade...and I think we are missing someone from Intelligence." He looked inquiringly to Bethune, "I think the Minister himself was going to be here but that emergency Privy Council meeting seems to have distracted him."
"Quite, well the Intelligence Departments are always somewhere else when it comes to the Outer Ministry. So I beleive the first item on the agenda is the
Diplomatic Agreement?"
Babock looked about and indicated everyone should be seated.

((Ah, that's fine the appropriate solvent for that is...acetone. Got any nail polish remover?))

Aside from a dry comment about "watching my girlish figure" from Dame Anthea, the interactions between cooks and aides, and reactions to the delivering of the refreshments went without notice.

The breakfast the next morning did result in one or two light-hearted comments about cholesterol, and a jibe at Aleski about acne, but on the whole it was received with polite satisfaction.

When they arrived at the conference, the majority of the staff simply pretended that Bethune's slight gaff never occurred. Those that did were obviously more interested in the car then the woman or the interaction; polite people did not comment on this.

Dame Anthea merely nodded in acknowledgement and followed Bethune up the stairs.
"And I hope you enjoyed the break yesterday as well Ser," she replied with a smile. This morning the woman was wearing in severe turn-of-the-century dress of dark blue - so dark it was almost black - and the others were wearing similarly subdued colours.

As each of the Alconians was introduced, Dame Anthea bowed slightly and repeated what seemed to be a ritual greeting; it ran to the formula of "Honours to your house, Rear Admiral Moses."

She half-turned and indicated the people behind her.
"Sera Astrid Vidari, from Immigration and Tourism, Ser Thomas Vasard from Trade, Special Agent Sean O'Leary from the SIS, Ser Marcus O'Niel from Ambassadorial, Sera Sandra Patel from the AG's office, Mother Susannah Midral representing the Church, and you already know Ser Aleski Federov, from Protocol," she paused to catch her breath while the delegation took their seats.
Moving over to take her own, she nodded to Bethune as she sat.
"Indeed. I trust you already have a copy of the thing, but we have brought additional if you require..."

((Alas, I am all out! You may be stuck with it for a while...))