NationStates Jolt Archive

The President of Klatch, Caroline ab Ieuaf was an attractive woman by most people's standards, young, blue eyed, blonde, and looking nothing like a politician ought to. She reflected that it had only been the chaotic state of the Federation that had allowed her to attain the Presidency in the first place. Inexperienced, ex-spies with affiliations to rebel movements were not usually the kind of people elected to central Government.

She was Dyellian, a race well known for it's schemers and spies. She looked Dyellian, the delicate features, the accent which so often got confused with the Irish one... She was trying to be upright, transparent in her dealings (by and large), and honest... she probably had more to prove than most others, due to her background and inherant racial stereotypes.

She had carefully chosen this small dining room for her breakfast meeting. There was a window, facing South to command natural light throughout the day, overlooking a lawn, that turned into a cliff at the end, falling sharply into the town of Port Olympus. There was a low wall visible at the end, the occasional guard wadering along it, checking for anything suspicious.

The room itself was wood panneled, with a cheerful wood fire in the North end. A side table held a buffet selection of cooked food in heated and covered silver bowls (which matched the cutlery on the main table). There was a table closer to the fire, laid out for two people. Instinctively she had got rid of all guards, bearers and assorted hangers on, she didn't like people listening to her conversations... if treaty arrangements were reached, they could type them up formally, but she prefered the idea of negotiating one on one without other people interfering. Possibly it was a little secretive, but what else could you expect from a former spy?

She had opted this morning for smart casual, a knee length grey cotton skirt and a blue jumper (which some people might criticise for being on the tight side), her hair tied back in a pony tail. She lounged on the window sill, staring out into the early morning light. She loved it at this kind of year, the grass crisp with frost, her breath misting the window pane. All in all she figured she wasn't doing such a bad job so far, she just prayed today would go well, then she could prove to all the doubters that she would lead the Federation to prosperity and not more stupid wars and infighting.

Sir Edmund Foxworth arrived only a few minutes after ab Ieauf had seated herself. In a marked contrast to the tailored suit of the previous night, the elderly Lord-President was dressed simply; dark slacks (tailored, of course), dark blue woollen jumper with a pattern of red thread, a collared shirt, black shoes, with the hair brushed neatly. It was easy to believe that this man was a kindly grandfather. His cane was present; this morning he seemed to be actually using it for more than a prop. He had a single protocol officer accompanying him, who pulled his chair out, and seemed about to do more when Foxworth held up a hand.

"No, I'm fine," he murmured in English. "You can go. Go on, I'll be fine."
The protocol officer bowed his head and withdrew.

"Nice people," Foxworth commented to no-one in particular. "But they worry about me more than my own mother," he delivered a warm smile to ab Ieauf.

"Good morning sera, I must say that you a looking quite radiant this day," in the mouths of some, that would have been flirtation; Foxworth said it as if it were a simple fact.

He seated himself with a little care, and glanced out the window, a slight shiver racking his body as he did so. His host might love this weather, but he was older, and hailed from far warmer climates. The fire was going to be handy this morning.

Ironically the reason ab Ieauf liked this time of year was because it was so unlike what she'd grown up with. Penrose, her home county, was a rural, coastal county sandwiched between the Sea and the desert and reliant on water from the Djel as well as what they could scavenge from the 'mist catchers'. The coast had a somewhat tempering effect on the climate, meaning it was hot all day, all night and all year.

She stood up when Foxworth entered, smiling warmly. She liked him, in a platonic kind of way. He was polite and sensible, both of which seemed to be increasingly rare commodities, "My dear Lord President, I hope you are well, and not too appalled at Klatchian hospitality?"

She sat down again when he did, careful to make it just slightly after, which at least to her Dyellian way of thinking was indicating his Seniority in the hierachy of things. In the world of politics, she was still wet behind the ears, and she was being careful to acknowledge that, as well as trying not to come off as just another arrogant Klatchian.

Ab Ieuaf watched as the retainer left, "Perhaps I'm a little odd, but I prefer to involve as few people as possible in my meetings. What is it they say? To work out the IQ of a meeting you start with 100 then subtract 10 for every person present?"

"Thank you." her smile broadened as she acknowledged the compliment, "You're looking quite presentable yourself, although you're far too kind... are you cold? We do have central heating here as well, which I can have switched on if you'd like?"

She waited for a reply before continuing, "Now, I got them to put on a cooked breakfast, bacon, sausages, eggs, fried tomato, black pudding, and as usual they seem to have assumed they were catering for 20 rather than 2, there's also coffee, or tea if you'd prefer. Anything else you want and I'll get it sent up."

She waved at the buffet table she'd arranged, "It's not going to get cold in a hurry, so perhaps, if you'll excuse my enthusiasm, you might like to tell me what you would see as the ideal outcome to our meeting this morning. At least to my way of thinking, anything that brings Klatch and the United Imperial Kingdoms closer together, is a great benefit to both of us. At least from what I have seen of the Diplomatic efforts of the United Imperial Kingdoms, you seem to be pursuing goals of neutrality and moderate isolationism with a foreign policy focused on facilitating trade and avoiding armed conflict. Ideally that is close to where I would like the Federation to go, as soon as the continued problems with Ilek-Vaad are resolved."

"By the way." she added with a slight grimace, "You remember I mentioned I was contacting them to try to get some kind of diplomatic dialogue going? Well they response was something along the lines of that all diplomatic overtures have to be made to their military as it is now out of the Government's hands."

Her tone of voice implied she found this absolutely outrageous, "They wanted us to send an envoy to talk with some General. When a military... or an Intelligence Service, starts taking over the functions of Government, I think we have a problem."

The Intelligence Service comment refered to the recent civil war in her native Dyelli Beybi. Soult's initial overthrow of the democratically elected Government had been orchestrated by an Intellience Service that had grown too powerful to control.

To Foxworth, the order in which their bums hit the seats was less important than her asking after his health first. He privately wondered if she was aware of the forms, but quickly decided that it was more luck. Nonetheless, if she kept it up she would go far in the Covenant... to a point.

"No, not too appalled," he answered with a smile, which faded into a thoughtful expression as she continued speaking; he didn't offer comment on the meeting IQ estimation.

"Slightly chilled yes. I'm afraid that I'm not as young as I once was and my body is rather vocal about reminding me," he shifted slightly, settling into his chair. "But goodness me, what a repast you've prepared."

Serious attention was paid to the next few sentences, and his manner indicated he'd given it serious consideration.
"Foolish," he pronounced on Ilek-Vaad. "Thinking with something apart from their heads I suspect. Politics and diplomacy are far too important to let the generals, or the intelligence services, touch them. We haven't had someone try singing that old song in the Covenant in decades... not sure what happened to them in the end, but I knew the House of deMarakan, and the generals' fate probably involved a pike..." he brought himself back to reality.

"Now you have Valdir's objectives broadly correct. Minimal entanglement, save where it is needed to protect trading interests, trade so that we can sell our surplus production and fuel the machines, and recognition from all that we're better left undisturbed," he shrugged. "It's a strategy that the yukes, who control foreign affairs, have had years to develop. They're not about to change. Of course, in the interests of our mutual trade, an understanding could be reached..." he let the sentence hang, then continued. "The important thing to remember is that if you want to thaw out the icehearts, you'll need to be polite, sensible, and very patient. They've been disappointed far too many times to be easily wooed," he gave ab Ieauf a thoughtful look.

"You, and I mean Klatch, is not very popular with them right now because your predecessor made their jobs more difficult then they had to be. I understand that words had to be spoken to some of the more irate nations of the Covenant. You, and I mean you personally sera, have a chance to undo all that; be polite, be reasonable, be restrained - don't use a cruise missile to swat a mosquito. Bear that in mind, and you'll rise in their estimation... assuming they're paying attention, that is. Which brings me to my first proposal; an exchange of Ambassadors. Without one, there's no direct, clear line of communication that you have with the MEA," he held up his hands, framing a point; the morning light revealed them to be lined and rather thin.

"In this day and age, the functions of the Ambassador are so often overlooked, a pity; most are glorified clerks, taking care of visas and passports. But a skilful permanent emissary can cool tempers, stand between irate parliamentarians and you, work to repair and enhance your reputation, and so on," he shook his head and added, "but without an ambassador, you'll only ever enter their thoughts when you're causing problems, not a good thing."

Ab Ieauf listened to everything intently, nodding along when politeness called for it. When Foxworth had finished, she stood, "If you can excuse me for just a second?"

She left the room momentarily and their was a very brief discussion in the hall, after which she returned, a big, almost excited smile on her lips as she elegantly reseated herself, "Now where was I? Embassies you say. You may consider it done. As soon as i get the time I wanted to allocate some real estate just outside of town to build compounds on, whomever you send over here will get first choice at a nice location."

As she spoke a vent in the cieling above whooshed quietly into life, apparently her discussion had been regarding heating, "Personally, I find the reluctance of the Previous Administrations to allow embassies in Port Olympus or to establish them overseas... perplexing at best. I see now reason why it should continue."

"Furthermore." she continued, "I am not averse to the idea of having to charm my way past some very unhappy people. I can imagine there are plenty out there, there are plenty enough within the Federation."

"You're thinking something." She gazed at Foxworth intently across the table, "No doubt you have some kind of dream of what Klatch might be for the United Kingdoms, and wondering if I'm able to make that happen, or if I'm going to turn out to be another supercilious warlord, or a weak piece of dross who looks very pretty but is really dancing to everyone else's tune?"

Suddenly she smiled infectiously, "Of course only time will really give you the answer to that. So... and I do value your advice enormously, what would you reccomend that I do in order to woo the hearts of the doubters within the United Kingdoms? Some kind of visit maybe?"

Foxworth waited until his host had finished speaking before he replied.
"I'm usually thinking about something," he said dryly, "but this isn't my dream, so much as my moderation of the collective dream of the Covenant, which wants to see Klatch as a tranquil, stable, and prosperous trading partner. Your predecessors, I will not comment on their motives, but I think you know exactly what you're doing," I hope you know what you're doing, "Your twisting of Dzerzhinsky's arm is proof of that. Oh yes, we know about that whole sordid business," he waved a hand carelessly. "Don't worry, we won't poison him, but he would want to avoid the Covenant for a decade or so. The lad should've asked for the loan first; it's amazing where the word "please" will get you," he might have been bemoaning the attitude of the "youth of today".

"Now a visit, with most nations, would be good, but I think it would be unwise... Among the Five Divisions, the UIK maintains cautious ambivalence, the Takuli are still looking to nail someone upside-down to a tree over the whole tariff thing, and the rest don't care," he offered an apologetic smile. "At this point, I'd advise against a visit; the climate is unsuitable, the ground unready, and you need a little more preparation than an evening and a morning with an old man. I'll give you an example; what subtle clue of language or posture do Dyellians typically use to indicate superiority?"

"I think we have similar agendas." the President remarked of the 'dream'.

She smiled wryly at the mention of Dzerzhinsky and his adventure, "Why bother asking when you can just take? But Dzerzhinsky's schemes were not without benefits to me... after all I imagine you would probably regard me as his pet bichon fris were it not for our little disagreement?"

The next question gave her pause. She subconsciously began to chew the corner of her lip, "Well..." she paused, "If we were talking politics my first instinct would be to locate the people who disliked me the most and try to won them over by whatever means necessary, although I suspect the baser methods I might employ on certain feeble minded Dictators might not work on more sophisticated politicians."

She laughed suddenly, "Don't worry thought, I didn't intend to just roll along and hope for the best. I would have done my homework before appearing..."

Ab Ieauf was chewing her lip again, "OK... I don't quite see where you're leading, although I'll say that there isn't much in Dyellian conversation that we use to indicate superiority. We tend to use first names unless we're trying to be distant or don't know the person at all. For instance when I worked in the Cheka I called Felix Dzerzhinsky 'Felix'. The Tzarina loves all that classless society business, so it's getting even more so now. The only time that was different was during the last Tzar's reign, when Serfs and Karls called Nobles by an appropriate form of address."

"For instance, were we both Dyellian I would be wondering why you weren't calling me 'Caroline'." she laughed again, "Strange people that we are down South."

"No..." she continued her train of thought, "It's more body language and such. The more important person in a meeting like this one would be last to arrive, but conversely first seated, first to be served/serve themselves and first to leave. In effect the subordinates wait for queues from the more important person to do anything. Also the subordinate should bow or curtsy first, then wait for the other, if they decide to bow or cutsey to the same extent or more, they are acknowledging the other as an equal, that's courtly stuff though. Posture of a subordinate would probably be a lot less relaxed, when walking in a group they would follow a step or so behind. D'Regs look down, Dyellians, Benjians and Leeans don't, it's regarded as shifty."

She trailed off shaking her head, "Sorry, I think I may have missed your point while inadvertantly giving you a lecture on Dyellian etiquette."

"If it weren't for your disagreement, I'd advise you holding off your visit until the current Takuli Bloodlord is dead," Foxworth said dryly. "And the ones who dislike you the most don't want to listen; they want to string you up.

"Baser methods used on feeble-minded dictators would work on more than a few of our politicians, but not the powerbrokers, who use the same methods. Patience and persistence; don't let a negative answer now dishearten you," Foxworth stood, a little unsteadily, and made his way across to the sideboard. "Forgive me, but my stomach won't let me wait any longer..." he selected a small meal from amongst the various foods on offer, returned to the table, then selected a pair of mugs. Into one, he poured black coffee, then held up the other and looked at ab Ieauf. "I understand Dyellians are partial to tea?" receiving his answer, he poured a cup for her (taking care to ensure that everything was in clear sight), returned to the table, and sat.

"Now, believe it or not, but your etiquette lesson has highlighted an important point; there is a marked difference. Note that I address you as "sera". The male form is "ser"; if combining with a name, you use the surname, so it would be sera ab Ieauf, ser Foxworth. Don't confuse it with the English "sir" for knighthood, always combined with a first name, as in Sir Edmund. The term is used for persons of importance, by their peers and others. An inferior addresses you by your formal title or as "sir" and "madam" - note the subtle difference in pronunciation? Only close friends, or the High King, use your first name. Please, bear with me, this is important, as when you visit you'll be received by a Prince, and no-one will excuse even perceived rudeness because you're Klatchian," he gestured to his plate. "Now, if the food is self-serve, or an informal situation such as this, disregard who is served first; read nothing into my going to the sideboard other than hunger. But if someone offers to bring you your drink, it's a gesture of friendship. Do read into that," he waited a moment, eyes resting on her mug.

"Now, you've noted that an informal and classless society is appearing in your homeland; not so in the Covenant," his hands moved, framing points and introducing new ones. "High population density means that manners are important to avoid conflicts, and though the density is not what it was, the standards of propriety are stiff. But who sits first, for example, only matters in one instance, and that's if a Royal or your liege lord or lady is in the room; when they stand, don't sit, especially the Royals; the realms are their home, and it's disrespectful to them. On the other hand, if I enquire after your health first, I am conceding that you are my social superior. However, if I indicate with a statement that I believe you to be well, or that you appear well, I am saying I think us equals. The forms are subtle, delicate, layered, and manifold, relying on tone, and posture," he held up a hand, palm towards the ceiling and let it fall.

"The yukes, incidentally, don't call them that to their faces, have had centuries of experience digging traps with such things for foreigners. So it's best if you already have created a good impression before you come, and learn just the basic forms, and then they won't do that; they'll even appreciate the effort - most foreigners don't. But don't try to learn it all; it's taught in childhood, and needs years of experience to learn fully," he sighed, and then smiled brightly.

"But you've already made a start at melting the icehearts; you've shown that you're not afraid to clean up the Federation's messes, and that you prefer words backed by weapons to simple weapons without words," his mouth quirked slightly at the wordplay.

"After a while, to gauge by your deeds and actions so they can see if you can be trusted around the fine china, they would be comfortable inviting you for a visit; your ambassador could even suggest it," he was by now smiling wryly. His manner seemed to say "Yes, I know, it's complicated, tiresome, and difficult. But that's the way it is."

"Bloodlord?" ab Ieauf sounded interesting in the concept, "People tend to take an annoying long time to die." she mused.

"Yes, tea would be good thanks." she had followed Foxworth, finding her own plate and serving herself a rather spartan looking meal, "Coffee never really took off down South, couldn't really say why, I guess it's a peculiarity of our race."

She sat down, again taking care to sit after Foxworth, who would probably understand what she was up to by now. She listened intently to what he was saying, nodding along occasionally. She smiled when he got to the bit about the drink, "Well thank you Ser... I was wondering what the Sera was." she confessed.

She shook her head, and whistled, "It sounds complicated." she laughed, "Lets hope nobody sets a trap for me in this possible future we are examining... Well as they say, 'when in Rome, do as the Romans', I wouldn't dream of trying to spread Dyellian manners beyond the borders of that State."

She laughed good naturedly, "Alright, so I have been set back in my place... what do you see our Nations doing between now and then? I can only guess at what course of action I could take to placate people, whereas you I assume would have a much better idea."

The Lord-President delivered a slight nod as ab Ieauf sat, acknowledging her courtesy.

"The Bloodlord," Foxworth said, between bites of pastry. "Head of the Takuli Congress of Lords. First among equals so to speak. My advice for dealing with them is "don't". He's a proud man, and his position is precarious... Takuli politics are cut-throat, literally, and he didn't get the position the normal way," he blew on his coffee, but didn't sip.

"It's just another culture," he said. "Baroness Aryet, the rechtaire we assigned to your region... rechtaire being a ranking official of some description, actually has a master's in anthropology, and considers being assigned to the Federation a dream come true," he paused to consume a slice of toast, then continued. "The differences in our two cultures are at that horrid level; just different enough to cause problems, just similar enough to cause confusion. Factor in the rest of the nations... you see my point."

He paused again, this time to taste his coffee; "delicious," was the verdict.

"Incidentally sera, this is why the yukes refuse to discuss business over breakfast; they like to ease into the day. If you want to learn how to handle them, us, might I suggest..." he began patting his pockets. "I have it here somewhere... ah, here it is." he produced a business card, which he handed to ab Ieauf.

"The Barony of Sakenberg. Cold, foggy, dismal, and specialising in consulting services. Specifically tutoring foreigners in talking to yukes; who speaks first, that sort of thing. But what you need to do, as a broad outline, is demonstrate restraint, they respect that; use diplomacy first, don't use a cannon to swat a mosquito, that sort of thing. And make use of your ambassador; he or she is the first point of contact," he sipped coffee again. "But one of the best things you can do is what you're doing now. Informally inviting a high-ranking official over to hobnob and eat good food. And if you haven't already, you may want to learn how to dance. I know my royals, and they think the phrase "dance the night away" should be taken literally," he smiled.

"Now, between now and when you're being whirled around a glittering ballroom by Princes Alexander or Thomas, I would hope for a few things; the embassy, some sort of formalisation of relations with us, we are awfully fond of treaties and the like... and then there's the personal touch..." his voice trailed off.

"You just make him sound even more interesting." ab Ieauf was smiling vaguely, apparently momentarily lost in thought, "Everyone has a weakness, you press it and they become quite maleable." it was the spy talking...

"The Federation is hardly monocultural either." she had actually begun to eat somthing off her own plate, to start with it had seemed it was there just as a decoration... "The Dyellians in the South are quite different to say the Alconians. We never seemed to be able to get along." she pronounced between mouthfuls.

"If you want to make a Dyellian hate you, behave like you're better than them. It's really a suprise the monarchy lasted as long as it did back home..." Until six years prior, Dyelli Beybi had been an absolute monarchy with a puppet Parliament full of MPs who did what they were told, or ended up meeting with horrible 'accidents'.

"Ah thank you, this could be very useful." she examined the business card, "Wonder how much they'd charge to send someone over here."

She shrugged, it was a matter for later, the card vanished into a breast pocket while she turned her attention to another topic, sipping delicately at her tea, "Now, were I to invite am Ambassador to Port Olympus, do you think it would be this Baroness Aryet? I'm sorry if that's a stupid question, only I haven't really paid much mind to the Politics of Central Government until just recently."

"If so." she continued earnestly, "Perhaps I could offer some personal apology for the behaviour of my predecessor?"

She waited for an answer, biting her lip, supressing a grin, "I can dance for sure Ser, but I think I might possibly need to learn some new steps. The Tango may go down very well in Dyelli Beybi, but I suspect most courts would try for something more restrained."

"Treaties are good." she nodded, then actually did grin, "Sorry... what would you mean by the personal touch?"

"Why sera, I would think you mean to tread on my turf..." Foxworth said; his eyes revealed it a jest. "And if you think the Tango inappropriate for the Court of Light's parties, you've clearly never met our Royal Family," he paused for a moment. "But you'll need to know more than the one dance. And stamina is needed; they don't need lippo' or drugs to keep slim," his eyes twinkled again; his own figure was hardly large. In fact, if ab Ieauf had access to a list of the various Macisikani dignitaries who had visited the FKC, she would have found out that only one of them had been overweight, and even then it wasn't by much.

"Your multiculturalism is why Aryet finds you so fascinating," he observed. "And I suspect it's the source of Valdir's fascination too. I'll let you in on something; the yukes have had centuries, millennia in many cases, to impress their culture upon the other Covenant nations. So yuke manners will see you through in most cases, and excuse you for the rest. Of course, using them in Wisjersey or the other regions of Vårheim will just confuse people into thinking you're one of us," he smiled, as if enjoying a private joke.

"Now, speaking of Baroness Aryet..." he chewed reflectively on some toast, and swallowed. "Aryet is likely, yes, but not definite... I can't tell you much of anything about her - I've never actually met the woman," he waved a hand. "Whoever it is, make use of them. I can assure you that there are few faster ways to seriously annoy the Minister than to ask her a question that some paper-pusher in the embassy is paid to answer," he moved onto the next point.

"An apology for the criminal neglect of your predecessor would be greatly appreciated, though let me be clear; we are talking about Sir Ozymandius-" he fairly spat the name out, "-and not the late King Vrak, who was a fine upstanding, ah, "gentlewalrus". Excuse my rancour, sera, but the fox was... weak. He is viewed with considerable disfavour," Foxworth washed the comment down with a sip from his mug.

"Now, the personal touch," Foxworth twinkled again. "Her Serene Majesty is newly with child. Again. Send a card when they announce the birth. Or a letter now if you like, stating that you have heard of her good fortune, and pray that the child is healthy and strong; that sort of thing. The personal touch; build friendships with the people wearing the crowns, bearing the sceptres. And the same goes for your own Federation. I have dinner at least once a year with each of the Stateholders, and again with every national leader; the Bloodlord, the First Minister, the Voice, all of them. You'd be amazed how helpful that is," he drained his cup. "I don't know how many crises we've averted by liberal application of good food and free champagne. People are more willing to pick a fight with some faceless name, than someone they enjoy having dinner with. What you're doing now, what you did last night; it's a perfect example."

By the end of his spiel, the man had turned quite fatherly.

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

Back in the rooms, Sakir was only on his third cup of coffee. He was four chapters into a new book though, and was waiting for a call from the Minister; Aryet had left him a message saying that Valdir would be sending over some "information related to that bloody tariff screw-up" for ab Ieauf to "peer at".

"Oh don't worry Ser, I think you'll find I have quite a bit of stamina." ab Ieauf's eyes had aquired a mischievous glint, "And I know a few dances, although nothing that well... formal, like the waltz or foxtrot or anything like that."

She smiled brightly, "I'm a Dyellian... if there's two things we can get right it's drinking and dancing... oh and smoking although I don't share that habbit."

She shook her head, still smiling, "No, no, be as candid as you like, I'm not about to take offence. If there is one criticism I'd level at the Walrus it is that he was perhaps a little too aloof, at leastto my way of thinking. The fox on the other hand... well the Fox wasn't even elected, and it managed to leave Dyelli Beybi to it's own devices when the Vaadians threatened to invade and set up a D'Reg Government."

She ducked her head slightly as if to ask forgiveness for steering the conversation down darker routes, "If you'll forgive my partisanship in this, basically Sir Ozymandius was ready to sit by and allow a foreign power to set up a Genocidal Regime... and it would have been my people that were the ones in the death camps."

"But that is by the by, the Vaadians finally came to realise the error they were making and pulled out." she grimaced in distaste, "Although that had nothing at all to do with Sir Ozymandius who would preserve trade at the cost of countless of the citizens he is supposedly there to protect."

Ab Ieauf smiled apologetically, "I guess I'm still not totally neutral, but I'm trying... I will take your advice Ser, to the letter. Funnily enough I was thinking of a big trip around Klatch at some point in the very near future to try to get an ear for what's going on in each of the States."

She had been sipping in a refined manner at her tea throughout, it seemed to be lasting her quite a while, although she noted Foxworth had finished his mug, "Would you like another mug?" she offered, "I can get you one, and then perhaps you might be able to suggest what I could do right now that would help to lay the groundwork for a better relationship between our Nations."

At the offer of another mug, Foxworth smiled and replied "Please," before moving on to address his other concerns.

"Now, let me get this straight; the fox was ignore a group of foreigners marching into Dyelli Beybi to set up a regime?" his tone combined shock and incredulity. "And just when I thought my opinion couldn't drop any further... weak..." his tone had turned to one of disgust, before it was smoothly buried beneath smooth manners.

"Now, improving our relations. Two areas; the legal and the personal," he said promptly. "First," he counted on his fingers, "is an embassy exchange. Valdir won't even look at anything ongoing without one. Second, a treaty expressing friendship between the Covenant and the Federation, commitment to mutual prosperity, and so on and so forth. Non-aggression clauses in that would be greatly appreciated. And also some sort of agreement covering legal issues like extradition," he devoured an entire slice of toast before continuing.

"Now, personal. First, get a dance instructor," he punctuated his sentences with nibbles from the next slice. "You'll need to know the waltz, at the very least. After that, your best moves would be to write letters. One to the Cenariph, Her Serene Majesty, congratulating her on her good fortune. Expect a form-fill letter of thanks, but the High Queen will read your words. One to the First Minister, apologising for the conduct of the fox and saying that there won't be a repeat. If you get a response, it will be distant and cold, but so is she; don't worry about it. Invite Lady Valdir over for tea and a sticky bun. Expect a polite refusal. Now, do that all today, and then invite Valdir over again after this business with the Vaadians is sorted out. Your performance in the negotiations will affect her attitude," his eyes regarded her for a moment. "And keep the Alconians out of the room. She can't stand them. None of the yukes can."

Ab Ieauf got up, collected Foxworth's mug and poured him a refill, although she wasn't filling her own. She returned, placing it in front of him with a winning smile, "Now this treaty... Friendship is pretty vague and in the reality of politics, doesn't really mean much, non-agression puts some real substance behind it... So what do you say we get some of your politicals to write something up, I'll read it, and if I think it's good in it's existing form I'll give it to Parliament. Anything you'd really want in it apart from non-agression?"

She nodded along with the rest, occasionally sipping at the tea, "I'll follow your advice on the rest... and as for the Alconians. No, I am no great friend of the Alconians. They are not reall what I'd call team players." she finished euphemistically, "Far too arrogant... bit like the Vaadians. Very hard to deal with arrogant people."

"Thank you Sera," he murmured as the mug was returned to him.

Foxworth smiled a small, private, smile, as if enjoying a little joke that probably wasn't that funny.
"Sakir will have, in his case, a copy of our standard "fill-in-other-nation's-name-here" non-agression pact. And the Diplomatic Agreement governing embassy exchanges too," he sipped his own mug, and grimaced as his tongue was nearly scalded.

"Ach. Hot," he looked at her, entirely serious. "What I want in it doesn't matter... what we need is for it to be able to navigate the ratification process. Friendship is vague, but words have power, and that one will help un-ruffle feathers. As for real things, well, non-aggression, continuous consultation about joint interests, something to deal with judicial issues, an undertaking that we keep our houses in order, all those will help... tell you what, I have a hunch that Vadin will be down soon. What you have in mind; air it to him. If he gives a strained smile and says that he'll need to consult with the Minister, you missed the target."

*********

"And about bloody time too," Sakir muttered. He finally had the details for the conference between the Vaadians and the Dyellians in his hands; he read them as he walked, guided by a protocol officer tasked with the duty of guiding him to where Foxworth was dining with ab Ieauf.
As he approached, the protocol officer who had accompanied Foxworth down knocked politely on the door in response to a little wave from the guide; there were dozens of subtle hand signals used by the Protocol office to indicate their current mission. This looked like #19: He Has A Message From A Minister.

Ab Ieauf winced apologetically as Foxworth seemed to scald himself, "Sorry, I should have cooled that off."

She nodded along with everything else, "You know, I will bow and scrape and do whatever it takes to make them like me. Don't think for a moment I'm going to let pride get in my way."

She paused when there was a knock, arching her eyebrows inquisitively, but waiting for someone to explain what was going on.

Foxworth waved the apology away, muttering "better it be too hot than be too cold".

"Apologies for the interruption milord, madam President; Lord Vadin Sakir," the protocol officer stated blandly, shifting aside to admit the Macisikani noble.

"Mr. President, Madam President, good morning," Sakir said gravely.
"I have here a communiqué from Lady Valdir for Madam's most urgent attention; it concerns the situation in the Squall straits," he handed the slim sheaf of papers to her. There was a short note from Valdir explaining things, directions to the Constans Islands, an explanation of security, and a copy of relevant transmissions.

"The Vaadians have agreed to talks," he said, handing an identical sheaf to Foxworth, who flipped through it rapidly.

"Thank you Vadin," he said genially. "That's another thing sera; the Macisikani don't have a sense of humour when it comes to negotiations. Unexpected guests generally get sent home sans head. If they go home at all."

The President stood for the other Macisikani, "Good morning. I hope you slept well?"

She offered her hand, he could shake it or kiss it or whatever he wanted to do... "Perhaps you would like to join us for tea or coffee?"

She waited until everyone who was going to be settled, became settled, before flicking through the pages, "Oh this is good news." she positively beamed at Foxworth, "I'll send someone along. Not someone too Senior, wouldn't do to be seen treating a military force like a Government, but someone who actually vaguely knows what they're doing. I'll let Delgado find someone, but this is good news."

She smiled vaguely, "Well I can assure you Ser that we don't treat negotiations as a joke in Klatch either. Although I would probably advise against executing Federation diplomats."

Sakir did kiss the back of her hand gently, with courtly grace.
"Your Ladyship," he murmured. "I am well rested. Are you well this morning?"
He waited for a moment, in which Foxworth's eyes flickered between the two, before responding to ab Ieauf's answer.

He remained silent while she spoke.
"The Vaadian system is... unusual," Foxworth said; the stress he laid on the last word made it clear it was a euphemism for inferior.

"Uninvited guests to these conferences in our experience tend to be assassins and terrorists. People with legitimate business and reason notify air traffic control and don't sneak past the sentries," Sakir interjected in dry tones. "And diplomats rarely come toting sniper rifles or packets of C4," he added as an afterthought.

Foxworth looked up and nodded sadly.
"We have had a few... encounters of that ilk," he said softly. "Not everyone is as good as the Klatch are when it comes to respecting neutrality."

"I'm very well." she smiled, wondering if asking after how well he'd slept counted as asking after health, "I hope you are as well as you appear."

"We will send a team." the President promised, "They will not carry weapons. It will be led by someone of inpecable character and there will be no attempts to smuggle in weapons or illegal goods."

"We will respect neutrality." she continued, offering Sakir a winning smile, "As well as the good faith with which you have agreed to host these negotiations. I do have a fundamental problem with negotiating with the Military rather than the Government of a country, as I have already mentioned to the Lord President, as such I will seek to send someone not directly involved with my office, however I will be taking a very personal interest in the outcome of this negotiation."

The President was wise; asking after his sleep was merely a host being... hospitable, not the asking after one's health. That Foxworth hadn't stood when she did told him that she had conceded the old man's social superiority, which intrigued him. Although it could have been in deference to his feet.
"This morning finds me well Madam President," Sakir answered in respectful tones.

The two listened in silence while ab Ieauf spoke, Sakir taking a seat next to Foxworth. When she finished, Sakir returned ab Ieauf's smile with a small one, while his superior answered.

"Imperial soldiers and SIS guards will look after your delegates," Foxworth said. "And if anything happens to them, at least one of ours will be dead, and the responsible parties will be riveted upside down to a tree outside the compound," he said matter-of-factly, then added "Go on."

In response to the apparent non sequitur, Sakir nodded.
"Foreign policy is too important to leave in the hands of the Generals. It's a worrying development that the Vaadians entrust it to theirs. Mind you, their government is... unusual." There was that stress on the last word again. He glanced at his superior, who was placidly sipping his coffee.
"I think that we can work productively once this is cleared up."

"Really." the President laughed, "Riveting of any form is quite unnecessary."

Se seemed to be bubbling over with ill concealed enthusiasm, "This looks promising, although you are correct... the Vaadian way of doing things is certainly unusual."

She paused, "So, Mr, and please forgive me for not knowing the correct form of address, Sakir, Ser, where do you see things going during this negotiation? Your input is greatly valued, as is that of the Lord-President."

OOC: Sorry this is short, very sleepy :P

OOC: Excuses, excuses, :P

IC:
Sakir darted a sharp glance at his superior, who must have given some unseen cue; instead of chilling, Sakir simply remained dry.
"My lord for preference, but Ser is fine," he hesitated a split second then continued. "And I see one of two outcomes for the negotiations; either the Constans Islands Conference leads to a détante between yourselves and the Vaadians," he said in bland tones, "thus ending the near Cold War scenario that exists, or they'll fail utterly, and that cold war will become a hot one," his eyes seemed to stare off into the distance.

"Valdir won't want to commit to either side," Foxworth observed placidly. "The Vaadians put quite a bit of effort into wooing us, but the First Minister has a fondness for the Klatch. And we foresee a greater potential in your federation than in the Free Republic," he sipped his coffee, and Sakir returned from whatever plane he'd been traversing.

"Too many variables to predict," the younger man said, shaking his head, "But military involvement without civilian oversight generally makes for unwise decisions and hollow posturing..." he titled his head, as if listening to some internal voice. "A status quo is preferred, but with a relaxing of tensions between your nations. Trade may then increase," his eyes found ab Ieuaf's, "and a lucrative contract may be negotiated with your homeland."

"Ah, yes," Foxworth said, smiling, "the eternal cry of the Imperial economy; "feed me!" Certain of His Serene Majesty's Government are becoming quite interested in your homeland's oil, titanium, iron, and manganese. Among other things."

"A hot war is not in our interests." ab Ieauf stated simply, "I don't think you will find whoever we send too belligerent. Certainly they won't do the Alconian trick of going into interminable negotiations."

"Ilek-Vaad has spent a great deal of time wooing anyone who might prove to be opposition for the Federation. I guess we make a fearsome neighbour." she laughed, running a hand through her hair, "Although it is my wish that people stop worrying about the Federation."

She noted the passing of signals, smiling mysteriously, "When in Rome?"

"Dyelli Beybi? Hmm..." she mused, "Used to be quite the maritime trader, too many wars. I think though that they might finally find peace. ap Adam is the only person I've seen with the possible ability to unite the factions. She'd have made a good President, although she's far too young."

A slight wry smile acknowledged the fact that the President was barely older, "So yes, I would say it's a good time to trade with Dyelli Beybi. Take care investing though, she may call herself the 'Tzarina' but she's about as Marxist as they come."

Both Foxworth and Sakir had raised an eyebrow at ab Ieauf's comment on ap Adam's age, and the two exchanged a small smile.

"His Serene Majesty came to the Throne of Light at a more tender age Madam President," Sakir said, "We aren't strangers to the idea of youthful rulers."

"Anyway, we never let that sort of thing, Marxist leanings I mean, worry us," Foxworth said, waving the comment about Marxism away, "It's very simple. We have cash, they have stuff that can be bought with cash. If her majesty won't let us buy what we want from her, or asks for too steep a price, we'll find someone else. Done it before, do it again. How do you think your countrymen ever landed a contract with any of the Macisikani with their transient leaderships?" he asked rhetorically, "Someone else got greedy or ideological."

"Governing ideology is irrelevant to the pursuit of mutual prosperity," Sakir said in his neutral tones. "Or should be," he added with a frown.

"Mmm... ironically the biggest issues we've had are with the so-called "free market" nations who tend to take the view that "civil rights" is a dirty phrase," Foxworth said, sipping. There was an invitation to open up the topic in his last sentence.

ab Ieauf nodded along to everything, smiling slightly, "Good I'm glad then that you don't find my age too shocking."

She smiled mysteriously at Sakir, "I shall try to minimise shocking supprises as much as possible."

"I wouldn't worry about Dyelli Beybi's civil rights." she smiled slightly, "Alexia loves civil rights."

She had used the Tzarina's first name without even thinking, and didn't seem to have realised either. It was a very Dyellian thing to do...

"As for the rest of Klatch..." she continued, "Well, most people wouldn't believe me, but I was once very devoted to activism.

"However, legaly we still have to obey the constitution, i.e. I can't interfere too much with the running of any given state. It is my fondest wish that everything works out."

Both of them interpreted the President's use of the Tzarina's first name as a sign that the two knew each other.

"There are ways and means," Foxworth stated blandly. "You'll find that out as you gather experience in these things, and they're all perfectly legal; the law is the law. And the Tzarina's civil rights stance will serve her well in dealing with His Serene Majesty's Government," he lowered his voice and leaned in, "they have a special superior sneer that they practice in a mirror for nations who think it's an optional extra."

Sakir gave Foxworth an odd look, but didn't say anything.

"Now, Vadin, I understand that you had a few things you would like the President to look at..."

The other produced a copy of the Empire's standard non-aggression pact (http://www.freewebs.com/macisikan/nap.html), and a copy of the diplomatic agreement (http://www.freewebs.com/macisikan/diplomaticagreement.html).

"Minister Valdir has finally managed to excise the Precedent Protocol from the Non-Aggression Pact," he said quietly, "But requires me to advise you that His Serene Majesty's Government considers prior commitments to security treaties to take precedence over this one, and should we be required to take hostile action against a Klatchian state due to pre-existing security commitments to another nation, this treaty will not be considered cause enough to refrain," he said it all in one breath. "That said, there's no-one we have such an arrangement with who has a quarrel with you. In fact, I doubt they've even heard of you."

"We'll need to tailor the diplomatic one a little," Foxworth said while his colleague recovered. "in order to reflect the unique status of an Ambassador to the Federation. I'm thinking a line about accountability of Klatchian Ambassadors in the Covenant and Imperial ones in the Federation; they answer to the primary in Arn-Maciksa and Port Olympus. Or would that be a regulatory matter?"

The President smiled slightly, noting Sakirs glance, "You'll get on with the Dyellians. They're polite, or try to be."

She smiled slightly again, a slight sparkle of mirth entering her eyes, "Ah thanks."

She accepted the papers, reading through them with a thoughful expression. She crossed her legs, fiddling subconscoiusly with her hair. Eventually she finished reading them, smiling brightly, "I will sign them as soon as is pertinent. Who in your Government would be the appropriate person to sign these?"

She paused waiting for an answer, then continued, "There is one small thing, a Trade Consul would be considered Diplomatically immune would they not?"

"At the moment she continued, I believe we extend Diplomatic Immunity to persons of 3rd Secretary rank and upwards in the Federation." she added, "I won't ask for reciprocation on that matter, I'm sounding like a broken record but when in Rome do as the Romans."

Sakir raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly, but didn't comment. In his experience, most foreigners were rude all the time, to everyone. So far, the President was a nice surprise.

"As Provisional Negotiator Plenipotentiary - the Proxy- that would be me," Sakir replied. "I sign off on it, then it goes for ratification, and royal assent. If you have no changes, I'm pretty sure it'll come back ratified in forty-eight hours, with a notification as to who will lead our embassy."

"They don't take very long with these things," Foxworth murmured.

He listened to the next question and shook his head.
"A trade consul isn't granted diplomatic immunity unless they are the head or acting of a consulate. Most nations get around that with us by having a "trade consulate" operating out of the Embassy; separate institution, same building," he shrugged. "It's a legal, organisational distinction that makes life a little easier, no more. Incidentally sir, the hierarchy would be an organisational matter for us; it only becomes a treaty matter if madam President's government requires that Klatchian Ambassadors answer to a Federation Ambassador..." it was not quite a question.

ab Ieauf looked impressed, "It will take us a little longer." she replied apologetically, "The Keys can be slow."

"I'll take this back to my office and show it around my advisors, just to make everything transparent. There won't be a problem and you'll have my signature on the dotted line within the hour." she smiled.

"As for the Ambassadors, well I don't imagine any individual State will bother setting up an Embassy... unless you really get on with the Dyellians or Vrakians, in which case perhaps we can opperate them as a Consulate?"

She paused, thinking, "Obviously they can't opperate entirely independently as they aren't totally independent."

"Well, this is a preset treaty, so it doesn't have to go before the Privy Council's deciders first, which can shave up to a week off the process," Sakir part-explained. "But in any case, all Covenant foreign affairs are handled by the MEA in Arn-Maciska. So while there will be what we call sub-consuls from Tanisava, and Jurakhan, and Talms and so on, they're low-level officials," he smiled slightly. It was a subtle expression but seemed to say to the President we know exactly what you mean.

"Now as to individual states, possibly your countrymen, especially if a rapport is developed," Foxworth said conversationally. "And, well, we have always been quite fond of the Walruses... mind you, I suspect that's because they're like us; there's a big "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door," he shrugged. "We were always reluctant to knock, in case it was rude."

Sakir gave a sort of facial shrug in agreement.

ab Ieauf gave Sakir a very slight nod, acknowledging and accepting his knowing smile, then turned her attention to Foxworth, "Make some approach to the Tzarina come Prime Minister, I think you will find her quite amenable. She is idealogical which is... refreshing ...for a Dyellian ruler."

She smiled warmly, suddenly, "You two Gentlemen are a refreshing break from the usual kind of riff raff I have to deal with. Did you know the last so called diplomat I dealt with viewed assault with a cane as the only way to deal with disagreement from the locals?"

She rolled her eyes in disgust at whoever she was refering to, then continued to praise the Macisikanis in the same earnest tone of voice, "I could spend all day telling you how much of an honour and delight your prescence is in Port Olympus. I look forward to strengthening Klatch's ties with your Nation. I will pray that Klatch and Macisikan will overcome our differences as quickly as possible, so we can resume the good relations we always ought to have had. I can only hope that Macisikan can forgive our past transgretions."

It wasn't just idle flattery, her tone of voice would leave the listener in no doubt that she meant every word, "Would either of you like anything else to drink?" she asked.

Both Foxworth and Sakir's faces displayed an interesting expression; a mix of stunned, bemused, and slightly lost. They exchanged a look, and then Sakir spoke.
"But, this is the way we always are..." Foxworth interrupted him.

"Yes, but remember ViZion? Rotovia? And sundry others?" Foxworth asked softly, his nose wrinkling. "And those were the nice ones."
There was a pause, while distaste flickered across Sakir's face.

"Point," the younger conceded, before focusing on the actual issue. "And, madam President, if your style is to become the typical style of the Federation, I can foresee a long and mutually prosperous relationship. I believe I speak for both of us," Foxworth nodded, "when I say that you are a refreshing change. A leader who knows not only what tact and manners are, but how to use them."

"We can't help it that some people's mothers let the TV teach them their manners," Foxworth sighed, "Now, moving onto serious matters," he smiled, "those drinks. Tea please, your nation's favoured leaf, if you have it. It is a very nice brew, Vadin? Yes, two cups. Another thing sera; if you think the English like their tea and coffee, let me assure you that it's merely a passing fondness. The Macisikani like their tea and coffee," Sakir gave a sort of facial shrug at that.

ab Ieauf nodded graciously, although she was wearing something of a wry smile, "Precisely my Lords... Foreigners we have learned are foul tempered louts with about as much tact and subtelty as a sledge hammer. Of course, all stereotypes are made to be broken."

She had stood while she was speaking, taking the time to pour out mugs of tea for everyone present, "Now in the Djel we have always been very fond of our tea, mainly because we've never managed to grow decent coffee beans."

"We have an autumn flush here at the moment, a decent tea, good if you like to take it with milk or sugar. Do you take either?" Apparently she took both, and was one of those who believed milk should be added first...

"The Benjians on the other hand are coffee drinkers. This is probably one of the reasons we traditionally never got on too well." she finished, mocking the traditional rivalry between the Dyellians and the Benjians to their West... of course Fasta Benj was now a divided state, with part having been annexed by Dyelli Beybi to form the semi-independent Province of East Benjia, while the rest had formed South-West Benjia.

"Milk, no sugar," Foxworth requested, while Sakir asked for both.

ab Ieauf's comment about the coffee-drinkers drew chuckles from both Imperials; her addition of milk first drew approving smiles.

Foxworth inhaled the steam from his cup, smiling contentedly.
"You see, sera," he said, without opening his eyes, "This is what I mean by the personal touch; developing friendships with the other leaders. Getting to know them. Vadin, sit down, you're looming."

Sakir shrugged, and glanced at the President for her approval, before taking a seat.


OOC: I'm assuming there were extra seats lying around the place.

OOC: Fire away. BTW I hope you don't mind me using the President in an RP that is supposed to be happening a couple of days after this.

ab Ieauf set the cups down, in front of Foxworth and Sakir's in a position on a thrid side, between them on the square table, "Please, sit, you must excuse my rudeness."

She pulled over a chair for him,giving him a bright smile and again waiting for her guest to seat himself, before seating herself once again. She nodded to Foxworth, "Of course," then turned slightly to include both Macisikanis, "As I have been saying to the Lord President, I will be the first to admit the the Federation's relations with the outside world have been... patchy at best. The first task I have assigned myself is the repairing our negative image, and the reassuring of foreign states that we are now a reliable and honourable State."

OOC: as long as he comes back intact, and as long as I can see what you're doing, no problem.

IC:
Both guests leaned back and sipped their tea in contentment, Foxworth shifting a little to settle himself.
While Sakir sipped at his tea quietly, Foxworth responded. It was quite clear that while Foxworth felt able to speak clearly, Sakir watched his tongue carefully. After all, Vadin was merely an envoy, ab Ieauf was a head of state.

"You are not an unreasonable woman sera," the old man said, "I must confess; having talked to you, having had this discussion this morning, I am quite amazed at how quickly the Squall Straits situation between us degraded," he paused to sip.

"Both the Covenant and the Federation have something in common," he resumed, "we want others to leave us in peace, and we want to be friends to civilised lands. Finding such nations, well, that is another kettle of fish."

(OOC) Lol sorry... I mean my President :P I know some people are funny about characters being in multiple threads at once.

IC:

The President held the mug between her hands, allowing the warmth to soak through, she sipped slowly at the contents, "Things always degenerate quickly when there is no dialogue."

She smiled slightly, really no more than a twitch in the corner of her mouth, "And I am willing to play hard ball if necessary... but it is very important that dialogue comes first, which is why I am so keen to establish embassies here."

"So." she concluded after a brief pause, sensing that they had probably more or less exhausted discussions related to business, "Do you gentlemen have plans for the rest of this day?"

OOC: Not at all. This entire breakfast has taken about two hours or so of RPing time, so it's not like we have a quantum President ab Ieauf.

IC:

Sakir seemed quite content to let Foxworth lead the discussion.

"Well, I have an Assembly prep to start," the older man said, "Suggestions that we begin roving again are coming my way again." Sakir seemed surprised by that.

"Not that old chestnut?" he asked.

"Quite," Foxworth replied. "Originally we were to come here, have a few exploratory discussions, and then tell Lady Valdir whether you were worth her time or not. Frankly it's proven to be far more fruitful than I expected it to be," he smiled. "But the original travel plans, calling for us to depart Port Olympus this afternoon local time, haven't actually changed. Like I said, I have an Assembly to set up, and no doubt Justina will want to see Vadin again. So pretty much our plans are to take our leave of you, go to the airport, and be back in Vårheim by dinner."

"You will need my signature on those treaties though," Sakir said. "It's a part of the ratification process; as proxy, I need to sign off on whatever we agree to," he took a drink, and Foxworth took over again.

"Which will take about twenty seconds. You can expect a reply from Alarl, who takes care of our Embassies overseas, within a few days detailing our embassy, ambassador, and so on, and a request for your Embassy specs from Madarr, who looks after other peoples' Embassies in the Covenant," he drained his cup. "Foreign embassies can be built to any specifications that you desire, so long as they meet the building regulations for the city, and you can use local or imported labour and materials, up to you. Alarl will also want to discuss how the Maciskan Orthodox Church will conduct itself in the Federation. Usually it registers as a simple non-governmental not-for-profit organisation and behaves like one, but some people get touchy about it."

The President made a disappointed noise, "A pity, you will miss out on the famous Port Olympus hospitality... Actually that's probably just as well, or you'll be clamoring for Macisikan to wash it's hands of Klatch forever."

"The Dyellians are much friendlier." she confided, sipping politely from her mug, "Although they are funny about foreign religions. I take it that this Orthodox Church is a fairly typical Orthodox Church without anything about it that will upset the Catholics or Islamic Groups? If you upset either they'll get togther and make life hell for the interlopers. It's a Dyellian thing."

Foxworth smiled thinly; it was slightly at odds with the chuckle he'd given at ab Ieauf's hospitality jest.

"As much as fifteen hundred years of development in complete isolation from the rest of humanity will make it," he answered. "There are, as with the entire Covenant, enough similarities to make us seem the same, enough differences to confuse people. Depending on how conservative your Muslims and Catholics are, they could have issues," he shrugged, "but it isn't our practice these days to convert foreigners. Any churches that are established would likely exist solely to service an expatriate community..."

"The biggest difference is the hierarchy," Sakir said. "Most Orthodox Churches don't have a Catholic-style hierarchy, but ours does... similar to the Anglicans, Madam President: His Serene Majesty is both Emperor and Pope."

"No," Foxworth disagreed, "The biggest difference is that the ranking Cardinal is a woman," he turned to ab Ieauf. "It comes from having as many Empresses as Emperors; no-one thinks that gender is relevant."

Sakir looked blank. It didn't take a telepath to realise that he was thinking "Your point being?"

Foxworth ignored him and continued, "But from the outside they really are indistinguishable from most Christian denominations; and they, we, keep ourselves to ourselves. No sense upsetting people unnecessarily."

"By and large they aren't conservative." she smiled in a manner that might be considered mischievous, although that really wouldn't be something a head of State would do, "After all I'm an adherant. They have had to learn to get on and that means compromises, there are always sub groups though, which shouldn't be of concern really."

"I think Gentlemen." her smile broadened, "That we can look forward to a long and fruitful relationship. If we had wine I would offer a toast to that."

Foxworth waved a hand. "Doesn't matter really. The sentiment is understood. Incidentally, a Nuncio, who for the purposes of diplomatic immunity is usually ranked a consul, will be attached to the Embassy; he or she represents the Church and is its head within your Federation, should you have anything you'd like to raise with them," his mouth quirked. "If you're lucky, the Nuncio and Ambassador might be the same thing. The current Ambassador to Tarlag, a bishop, wears both hats."

"Someone higher than a Bishop for Klatch though," Sakir interjected. Foxworth looked at him, and the younger man answered "It's too big for just a Bishop. Arch at least."

The Lord-President shrugged. "Back to the point. I'm glad we've been able to work past our differences sera. We do hope that the Klatch will see us as we hope to be; your friends. Of course, we'll say things you don't like from time to time," he smiled this time, and for some reason glanced at Sakir who rolled his own eyes (an uncharacteristic break in his mask), "but friends do tell friends when they're doing something wrong. And trying to gag Parliament is like trying to hold back a hurricane with a plastic spoon."

"And no doubt the Klatch will offend your Government at some point." the PResident grimaced, "Or at least one of the States will..."

She laughed pleasantly, "And I assure you, I have no desire to gag my critics, let them say what they like of me and my Administration. I would like to think that criticism provides something of a learning curve."

She finished her tea and set the cup aside, "I fear though that I may be holding you fine gentlemen back from preparations for your flight?"

Her tone of voice implied no need for the delegation to leave, but rather offered them an excuse to if they felt it was necessary.

Foxworth waved a hand airily.
"The Federal Government's already trodden on one or two toes, but you've done your best to smooth ruffled feathers," Sakir winced slightly at his superior's mixing of metaphors. Foxworth ignored him, continuing "And I think we both know which State is likely to be most vexing. They are immaterial."

He too drained his tea, and then gestured Sakir forward; the two had both bowed their heads slightly at being called "fine gentlemen."

"Actually sera, we do have one item we simply must attend to before we depart; Vadin, if you would," Sakir produced several sheets of paper; they were copies of two of the Covenant's three standard agreements - the Diplomatic and Non-Aggression Pacts.

"We just need you to review them," Sakir said. "I know the NAP can pose problems for some, but the DA shouldn't; the unchanged versions of both I've already signed, so if you approve them both and don't have any changes, we can fast track them through ratification. If you do, you'll need to notify Lady Valdir after we go home."

"She was vaguely hopeful that we could finalise an exchange of Ambassadors," Foxworth commented dryly. Valdir's actual words on the subject had been "If you really must," but the tone said "I don't want to tell you to do this, but I want you to do it." She was really a strange woman at times.

The President smiled, looking quite pleased with herself, "I will take these to my office, show them around and so on. You will have signed copies by the time you return home." she promised.

"Her vague hope, I would hope to be a certainty in the not too distant future." she continued, "Ambassadors are essential."

"Oh." she gave a short laugh, "There is one piece of information you might be interested in, the Dyellians are buying air ships at the moment, every air ship they can source, it's supposed to be secret, but air ships are so uncommon you can't help but notice them trying to source them. Don't ask me what it's all about, but from what I can tell that might be quite a powerful card in trade negotiations."

Both Imperials seemed satisfied with the President's assurances.

"Well, I know you are different sera," Foxworth said blandly, "but your predecessor never even was given the chance to consider the matter, thanks to certain parties who shall remain nameless," he shook his head. "As for the matter of your countrymen, well, at the moment we're more interested in buying..." Foxworth cast a strange look at Sakir, who seemed not to notice. The truth was that Sakir's countrymen in the UIK often offered the Dyellians twice the market value price for their materials, and honestly seemed not to care.

"In the meantime sera, I'd also get onto writing that letter to Her Serene Majesty. You'll probably get invited to visit; if they like you, it will be a social thing..." he paused. "Have you ever ridden to hounds, sera?"

"I know." the President smiled benignly, "The Dyellians are selling, but Djel Valley Mining is a State owned monopoly, if you get my drift."

She shook her head to the question, "I assume you're refering to fox hunting? No, I haven't, it does go on in Dyelli Beybi, just wasn't something I was ever that interested in." she confessed, "Although I can ride a horse." she added brightly.

Both Foxworth and Sakir smiled and nodded in response to the President's information.
"I shall pass that on to the Minister," the latter murmured; two days later, the Dyellian government received a communiqué, Commercial in Confidence, from the Eight Nations AirTransport and Construction Corporation, enquiring if there was "any specialist work [the new government] required in rebuilding the nation of Dyelli Beybi after this most terrible civil war".

Back in the office Foxworth smiled his own benign smile. "Well, perhaps you'll be able to try something new then," he produced a pocket watch and glanced at it. "Well, sera," he said, secreting it away again, "it has been most lovely this conversation. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss with us?"

"No." ab Ieauf offered one of her more charming smiles for the pair, "It has been an honour and a privilege to mmet you, my Lords."

"I imagine you have a lot to do before leaving?" she ventured, then added on a more serious note, "You'll have those signed before you leave."

She turned her attention momentarily to Foxworth, "Ser, Lord-President, it was a most fascinating discourse on etiquette in your Nation, and in keeping with the traditions of my homeland, I would regard it as an honour if you were to address me by my first name." her attention had broadened to include both of them again, "While in Klatch at any rate."

----------

The Eight Nations AirTransport and Construction Corporation would find the Dyellian Government apparently sourcing as many helium gas bags as it could get it's hands on, although it wasn't too worried what kind of compartment was hanging off the bottom, apparently it was planning to put on it's own. Something was definitely going on. Normal Governments did not invest money in zepellins...

The two stood; Sakir offered a slight bow from the waist, while Foxworth inclined his head and offered a gracious smile of his own, grandfatherly air returning.

"We do have a few things to tidy up before we go," Foxworth said, "and we do thank you for your hospitality sera..." Sakir moved slightly forward.

"Bountiful fields, Madam President," he said, holding his right hand up, palm outwards. Bowing slightly again, he withdrew from the room.

When the other had gone, Foxworth nodded.
"In private, please, just call me Edmund," he gestured at the papers. "I think you'll be in for a pleasant surprise when we deliver the ratification documents. The yukes believe communication is an art, and the calligraphy is quite beautiful," he smiled and held his right hand up, palm outwards.
"Strong walls and warm hearth to you, Caroline," he said, placing a slight stress on the name; his eyes were twinkling like mad.

--------------------

8NAT, as the corporation traded as, was slightly perplexed by the request, but after some consultation with the MEA's Trade supervisors and their legal teams, began to supply the bags. Mostly of the general fat cigar shape, a few with rigid frames, some soft shells. They left the compartments off, but did include the mountings; they quickly learned to tailor their products.
There were one or two raised eyebrows in the MEA, but Silvanas approved the deal with a shrug. Blimps and zeppelins were not considered military materiel, or sensitive exports.
They began arriving within a week; quite fast, considering the tyranny of distance.

The President curtsied in return, then offered her hand, "It was to my honour and eternal benefit Lord Sakir."

She listened to Foxworth, smiling and nodding slightly, "Pleasant suprises are always good."

"Edmund." she pronounced the name almost reverentially, as she offered her hand. It was apparent Foxworth had made an immediate and good impression on the young President.

She waited for him to kiss it and straighten, then stepped forward, "At home when we say hello or goodbye we do this..."

She kissed him on both cheeks (the Dyelli Beybian culture had strong mediterranean influences) then laughed softly, "We will make a Dyellian of you yet. Goodbye my friend, officially and unofficially you and your family will always be welcome in Port Olympus and in my home."

----------

Whatever the Dyellians were using them for, they were gobbling them up and were more than willing to keep the orders going... The Southern State was a strange place and often rather secretive.

Foxworth had delivered a-smile-that's-not-quite-a-laugh at ab Ieauf's comment, and quietly thanked her, before departing the room; just before he left he seemed to almost stumble, but it was only a suggestion of infirmity.

Outside, the Lord-President collected the Proxy, and the two swept out. A most singular young lady, he thought to himself. She'd struck him as intelligent, courteous, and willing to look before she leapt. He only hoped it would be enough to see her safely through the inevitable minefield that Valdir would lay... He stopped and closed his eyes.

"Sir?" Sakir looked at him with concern. The older waved him away, and started moving again. Any foreign observer, ab Ieauf for example, would probably judge him to be in his late fifties to mid sixties; Sakir knew he was older than that. Foxworth shrugged away the momentary weakness in irritation. He had a States-General Convention to organise, and had no interest in negotiating with his body's frailties.

-----------------------------

It turned out that Foxworth wasn't joking or exaggerating; when they arrived, delivered by an MEA courier, the standard "fill-in-nation's-name-here" ratification documents were hand-drawn, black ink on vellum, long swooping, curving letters, and a real wax(!) seal affixed to the bottom.

-----------------------------

8NAT simply kept supplying the bags as long as the orders came in. The Dyellians were paying in good coin.

The President was good to her word, and before the pair left they would find be given a signed copy of the documents to take back home with them, while she took another copy to parliament for ratification.

A message from the Ambassador-Generals' department showed up in the President's inbox soon after, informing her that Primarch Alexis Valnard would be the Imperial Ambassador.

That was followed up by another courier, who bore a message from the Minister of External Affairs, presenting her compliments to the President, and would the President be able to point MEA officials in the right direction to arrange the installation of Covenant Consulates in Vrak and Dyelli Beybi? The Covenant does feel, Most Noble Madam President, that we can develop a working relationship with these nations and with them and yourself, the whole Federation... of course, the Primarch would prefer to discuss this with you in person when he brings his letter of credence, once we have word of confirmation of Federal Ratification.

The courier also bore an invitation from Sir Edmund, asking if the President would like to make an informal trip overseas, to visit the Lord-President's country estate in mainland Akmadar, and meet several officials of the Covenant in a relaxed and informal environment. No need to rush; he understands how trying the early stages of an administration can be, particularly with all the unpleasantness that is still going on.

The offices of the Federation sent off the usual letter of welcome to the new Ambassador along with some details of land allocated for the construction of an embassy compound if it was felt necessary, otherwise, it was explained, that offices could be rented in the central city. It seemed the Federation wasn't quite ready to send an Ambassador, for which they apologised most profusely, explaining they would as soon as several small internal matters were concluded.

Sir Edmund also recieved a message from the President to thank him for the offer and to express what a great honour she felt it would be to take it up as soon as possible. There was, she concluded no better time for it.

Valnard's response to the Federation's letter was prompt. An advance team would move into the rental offices, to set up a temporary embassy until the construction of a more permanent facility on the vacant lot. He also passed on a note from the Secretary of State for Ambassadorial Affairs; though no Ambassador was ready, vacant plots were available for the construction of an Embassy. The SAA would be more than happy to assist the Federation in setting up their Embassy; though there was no Ambassador, an Embassy could still be constructed and staff prepared so that they were all ready and waiting.

Soon after, several officials from the office of the Ambassador-General arrived in Port Olympus; assessors, architects, and security officers. Their task was to investigate the plot, then have the embassy built according to strict specifications set by their superior in Arn-Maciska.

Sir Edmund's office responded to the President's message; they wanted to find out exactly when would be good for ab Ieauf to make the journey, and were there any special medical requirements that she had? Hidden in that response was the question; did the President feel comfortable enough in the President's chair to make the long journey to the Covenant?

The Federation did send a small team of surveyors and architects out to look at the site, apparently they were taking competing designs for the structure...

The President had no medical conditions, although it seemed she was mildly myopic and a prescription for new glasses/contact lenses was sent through. She was, it seemed, ready to make the journey whenever they wanted, so, to the hidden question, she felt completely secure, or at least secure in the fact that she had a team in Port Olympus who could handle any unexpected suprises.

The Federal staffers were welcomed by SSAA staffers, who provided them with the guidelines; most embassies were free to build as they wished, but the city had several inviolable regulations (such as maximum building height) affecting the Diplomatic Precinct. They also joked that designs made with Vrak in mind would be handy; Arn-Maciska usually enjoyed mild summers and winters, but there were occasional cold snaps that froze the river.

Foxworth's staffers took note of the President's requirements, and noted that a selection of frames would be available for the President to choose over and select. A personal note from Sir Edmund added that, of his family, only Lady Foxworth would be in attendance, and that casual business attire would suffice in the main; tailors would be on hand in case something came up.

He also noted that the States-General had just recessed (clearing his schedule), and the Daíl's attention had returned to domestic affairs (meaning the political climate was once again hospitable for the Federation). They now merely awaited her arrival.

It didn't take long for the President to get her act together and out of Port Olympus. She had travelled with a staff of two people. One, a somewhat suspicious looking Benjian was presumably a bodyguard, the other appeared to be office staff, a Jiggadian by the sounds of them...

(OOC: I don't know if you want to start a new thread or lead off from here...)

(OOC: I'm happy keeping it in this thread; all in one place so to speak. It's also in the same character, so makes sense)

ab Ieauf quickly discovered what many others had; while shipping was fine for transporting goods, unless one wanted to spend weeks (if not months) at sea, air travel was the only way to get through Vårheim's periphery. The plane that ferried her from Arn-Jafhana to Akmadar (over a slice of the UIK) had to stop briefly in the Constans Islands, before handing her over to a 'copter (with escorts) that ferried her to the estate itself.

Arrival by air at the Lord-President's estate had advantages; it gave the President a spectacular view. Foxworth's country estate was located in a tropical range of mountains. Lush forests and jungle, but without the oppressive heat and humidity normally associated with such, and a backdrop of higher peaks shrouded in mists. The estate home was several buildings clustered on a small knoll, low-set and with sloping roofs.

She was greeted at the helipad by Sir Edmund, clad in navy cotton slacks, sandals, and a long-sleeved tunic. His wife, an older, slim lady with high hair, was wearing the same style, but her clothing was maroon, with a golden thread pattern around the neck and cuffs. Her husband held his cane, and appeared actually to be leaning on it this time.
It was she who stepped forward, to offer the traditional greeting; "Welcome to our house, Baroness Caroline of the ab Ieaufs. We offer you drink and food, warmth and rest."

The President of Klatch had gone erred on the side of formal, dresswise, with a gray skirt and matching business jacket over a maroon blouse. She offered a deep curtsey, "Your Lordship is too kind in his hospitality. It is my great honour to have been invited into your esteemed company."

The Benjian on her left was a broad looking individual who looked a little uncomfortable in a suit. He offered a quick bow, as did the Jiggadian, before resuming his scanning of the surrouding area.

Unusually ab Ieauf was wearing glasses instead of contacts, giving her a slightly librarian-esque look, "I hope that yourself and her Ladyship are well?"

Sir Edmund coughed slightly and limped forward. Lady Foxworth's eyes danced with amusement.
"Thank you sera," he said, "I am pleased to say that my wife, and all our family, are well," he paused for a moment, then returned the inquiry.
"Are you well?"

Neither of them paid the slightest attention to the President's companions; assuming she'd introduce them if they were important enough to talk to.

The Presidents brows drew down momentarily in a look of obvious concern, but it quickly disappeared behind a mask of civility, Foxworth looked worse than she remembered...

"These are Misters Hakashimu and Bart." she introduced the two staff members, she was a Dyellian of the new mould, everyone was worth talking to, "Purely unnecessary staff members who nonetheless the beaurocrats at home insist I must have following me around."

She pronounced it with a tone of glum irritability, a tone which was greeted by slight smiles from her staff, presumably this was some kind of joke between them.

"I am very well your Lordship, thank you for asking." she continued, "I have brought gifts from the Federation... or from Dyelli Beybi to be precise. Unfortunately though I must wait till we unpack our luggage to retrieve them."

Sir Edmund did look worse than he had at Christmas; the cane that then was only ornamental now was actually being used, and his eyes had a tiredness at their edges.
"Of course, sers, welcome, welcome," he said, nodding to them. His wife nodded her head, and gestured to the household staffers.

"They will convey your effects to your chambers," she said, "But let's not stand around outside, nay? Evening is coming, and the mists will soon settle; it will be most chilly out." Only experience could have told her that; the grey sky looked much the same as it had when they flew in.

The two moved to one side to allow the Klatchians to join them, then moved at the same pace towards the doors; the interior wasn't bright, but warm and inviting.

"We shall be having several others join us later," Sir Edmund said, "At present it is merely myself, Livia, and a few other family members..." he trailed off and they walked in silence for a moment.

"And Alexander," Lady (Livia) Foxworth added, as they turned to the left; wood panelling on the floor gave way at a portal to cream-coloured carpets and walls panelled with walnut. The lights were diffused incandescent, and leant to the cosy atmosphere. The occasional vent for central heating betrayed cold nights.

"Ah, yes," Sir Edmund nodded, "Alexander joined us today. Took the maglev up from Queensgrange I think. The lad is rather tired, and may not come to dinner. Your chambers are down here," they turned to the right. Behind them came staffers wielding suitcases.

"He does push himself so," Livia said, "and we shall be having others later; Justina can't make it until the end of the week I'm afraid, but Thomas shall be joining us the day after tomorrow. Haven't heard from Elgiva..." her voice trailed off and her face took on a faraway look.

"Don't worry," Foxworth said quietly, "you'll be introduced to everyone when you meet them. If you need to stand on ceremony, we'll give you plenty of warning... ah, here we are then."

A suite of rooms had been opened before them; here the walls were plain plaster, painted a colour just off-white, with light-coloured wooden furniture. They stood at the entrance to what appeared to be a living room; ahead there was a kitchennette and a dining area, with windows opening onto mist-shrouded peaks. To the left, a corridor lead down to several small rooms; on the right, another lead down to a single doorway. A few pictures decorated the walls; they ranged from a panoramic photo of a forested bay, to a portrait of a handsome youth with auburn hair and dated clothes.

"Master bedroom and ensuite bathroom to the right, rooms for children or staffers and shared bathroom to the left," Sir Edmund explained. "Kitchenette is currently stocked only with beverages and snacks, but is fully operational. You'll probably want to give this a security sweep before you settle in. The TVs-" all flatscreens "- pick up all CTN channels, and free-to-air channels in this part of Akmadar. Guide is on top. Secure wireless and wired internet access are available from all rooms. Voltage in the sockets is 240; if you need an adaptor, we probably can supply one," he finished, slightly out of breath. Livia took over.

"You'll probably want to freshen up after that long flight, nay?" she asked, "We'll just be taking tea in the drawing room - you're welcome to join us. Dinner will be around sevenish," her lips quirked, "Selection of meats, salads and fruits I believe."

"Again I must thank you for your hospitality." ab Ieauf seemed to be trying to be on her best behaviour, "I see no need to perform a security check, I trust your house emphatically."

"And besides." she gave a wry smile, "I believe we don't have the gear with us."

Hakashimu mutely shook his head in either confirmation or denial, it was hard to tell which.

"It has been a long journey." she confirmed, "And I would appreciate the opportunity to freshen up, and afterwards will gladly take up your offer to take tea in the drawing room."

"It is my great pleasure to meet once again your Lordship, as well as to have the honour of making your acquaintance your Ladyship. I will see you shortly."

She curtsied again.

After the President and her staff had been left alone to get changed, were the room to actually have been bugged, they would make out a potentially interesting conversation.

"You know I did bring the gear to sweep for bugs." Hakashimu.

"Put it away." ab Ieauf sounded slightly annoyed, "I meant what I said. I do trust them, and anyway, it's not like we're going to be discussing top secret information anyway."

"I found the item." this must be Bart.

"Oh good." she sounded pleased this time, "Lets hope they value antiques aye."

"So what be the plan." Bart or 'Dave' as she's just called him.

"I'm going to get changed, then you are coming with me. Kwan, you can watch TV, they might have wrestling or something on." clearly the President of Klatch did not have a high view of wrestling.

"Hey!" 'Kwan' Hakashimu, but apparently he didn't have a riposte, "I'll be here if you need me."

----------

A little while later ab Ieauf reappeared, this time wearing a sleeveless black top and matching skirt. It was snugly fitted, but not excessively so as to appear tasteless. She had also lost the glasses which was definitely a good thing.

"It be this way to the drawing room I think." Bart, who was now carrying a box suggested, pointing off to his right with his free hand.

"How would you know?" she gave him a quizzical look.

"I don't." he shrugged, "I be guessing."

"Right well we'll see if your guess is correct." the President laughed.

The Foxworths merely smiled, nodded in acknowledgement, and withdrew.

"Nice girl," Livia commented in Ka'ani. "Bit stiff though. Tense.."

"Trying to make a good impression," her husband replied, limping beside her.

They proceeded in thoughtful silence to the drawing room; wood panelled, carpets the colour of wine. A roaring fire, with dangerously comfortable chairs.

Livia beckoned to a servant and muttered, "Teas, savoury biscuits. Nibbles. Nothing heavy. And send someone up to show our guests down when the time comes. Ta." Sir Edmund was settling himself into one of the chairs; his wife scooted a footstool over to him and he gratefully rested his right leg on it.

She retrieved a pair of novels, handed one to Sir Edmund, then sat opposite him, the fire to her right. From somewhere she produced a pair of half-moon glasses and in silent synchronisation, the couple opened their books and began reading. The retainers, long in service to the family exchanged fond looks.

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

Kwan would have found wrestling, but only as part of a wide-ranging sports channel. The Foxworths didn't value the sport at all, and he was far more likely to find a rather violent game imported from Ireland called "Hurling" showing; judging by the size of the (filled to capacity) stadium, it was extremely popular.

Bugs would not be found, unless they were of the six-legged sort (Housekeeping was on extension 5809, or by wandering down to the housekeeping corridor and grabbing the gear yourself, as Livia was want to do).

Bart and the President would have made it exactly three steps before one of two retainers, each waiting patiently in a chair at either end of the corridor past their suite, stood and coughed politely.

"Ser, Madam President, right this way," a younger woman said with a polite smile.

They were led down several hallways (Bart's guess was only partially correct; right, left, left again), to the drawing room; Livia was sipping tea from a cup on a small end table, absorbed in her novel. Sir Edmund had his own novel propped up with his right hand, while his left absently stroked a grey Persian cat perched on the armrest; yellow eyes regarded the newcomers briefly, then closed in contentment. A young man with dark straight auburn hair and glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose, was seated at a table behind them bent over a tome of some description. A black-haired boy of about fourteen stood reading over his shoulder. Behind him, large windows with heavy curtains peered out onto a darkening landscape; the mists were heavy and cold-looking.

"Ser Bart and Baroness ab Ieauf," the retainer announced. The cat cast the Klatchians a dirty look as the hand left its back to close the novel and place it on a table; Livia turned to the side so she could see the door and smiled. The boy glanced up and turned bright red. The other didn't twitch.

"Much more relaxed my dear," she said, standing. Sir Edmund smiled and remained seated.

"Now, you know us, Livia and Edmund, but that's Paul," Livia said, indicating the still-staring teen, "and Alexander," a hand gesture from the bookish youth, which then whacked the teen in the stomach; the boy's eyes jerked back down to the text, and his blush deepened if possible.

"And this is Sooty," Sir Edmund said; that was the cat, whose attending hand had returned. "My great-granddaughter named him," he added, smiling. "Please, do make yourselves comfortable. Tea? Biscuit?"

Livia, who had drifted to a sideboard, now had her hands hovering over several caddies (labelled in English).

"Ah thank you." the President smiled at the retainer, then nudged her aide in the ribs.

The South Klatchians were a rather informal band... the trio they had recieved were all from the deep South. As it so happened, Klatchian Parliament was examining a proposal whereby Dyelli Beybi expanded it's borders into former Jiggardy and Fasta Benj, which would mean, if all went according to the plans of the Dyellian Government, all three would soon belong to the same state as well...

She arrived at the drawing room, walking purposefully behind the aide with Bart vacantly trailing in their wake.

She smiled politely during the introductions. Midway through, something seemed to dawn on her, the smile broadening noticeably, "And a good afternoon to you all, Paul, Alexander, it's a pleasure to meet you both I'm Caroline."

"A tea would be grand, thank you. I do find planes leave you feeling quite parched." she cast her eyes around for a chair, seating herself with a very slight degree of hesitation, with Bart hovering close behind, still clutching the box.

"I must say you have a beautiful home. You are truly blessed... which reminds me, David." she looked up at her aide, who stepped forward.

He advanced across to where the younger members of the family were, "Could I be intruding upon Sirs to be using a portion of his table to set down this item?"

'This item' must have been refering to his box. The President had a slight Dyellian accent, which was easily mistaken for the Irish one. The Jiggadian was quite different... David Bart sounded like nothing so much as a pirate in a suit.

Of all the creatures in the room, only Sooty noticed the President's smile change, and the facial expressions of humans didn't concern him, unless they held food. Paul's blush deepened at her response, but Alexander, his finger tracing a diagram in the book, didn't twitch.

Livia busied herself with brewing the actual tea, chatting as it drew.
"Why thank you very much Caroline, our family's estate is something we have worked on - a home for the family. Milk and sugar, my dear?" she asked.

Alexander actually looked up at Bart's query, and nodded briefly; he half-turned, and indicated a place in the tome to Paul.
"Right here," his voice was soft, and his accent differed from Livia and Edmund's. "Do you see? No?" he grabbed what looked like an overhead film attached to a black ruler and a pen. "Transpose the factors like so..."
The teen bent forward, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Think on it," the youth vacated the seat which the teen took, and wandered across to Livia.

"Take this to Ed. That one's for Paul," two cups were ferried, then he returned. "That's mine, but that one's for Caroline, and that is yours. Ta."

Alexander set the cup of tea next to the President and then turned to face ab Ieauf fully, and she got a decent look at his face (rather than the top of his head). He was handsome, in the way most young men are handsome; straight auburn hair, white skin, dark green eyes (with dark circles around them at the moment). His features were pleasant, but not instantly eye-catching. He towered nearly a foot over the Klatchian, but lacked girth.

"An Irish Breakfast, grown in Takuliyet," yes, a noticeable difference. Both Livia and Edmund spoke with English accents; Eton accents. Alexander's had a flavour to it that was hard to place, with a slight roll on the r's.

He then took the chair next to Foxworth, who was again neglecting his feline companion. Livia settled herself next to the President.

"So, Caroline," Edmund asked with a smile, "How have those rascals in the Federation been treating you?"

"Milk no sugar thanks." the President smiled gratefully.

Bart nodded briefly to Alexander, setting the box on the table and opening it, the contents seemed to be bubble wrapped... He began very carefully to open what was inside.

Carolie offered Alexander one of her more radiant smiles as he gave her her tea, "Thank you." she said simply.

"The Federation." she reapeated the words that Edmund had pronounced, rolling her eyes at the mention of her Government, "Someone in Alcona and Hubris once said running the Fereration is like herding cats. Quite true I assure you, although a certain degree of common focus is begining to emerge."

"The Vrakians, Dyellians and Karmanyakans are States I would rely on. Sheilas and Bruces, perhaps, although they spend little time in Parliament, as for the rest." she shrugged, "Either insane or taking no real interest in politics."

"Although obviously." she confided, "I cannot seem too close to the Dyellian Government for fear that people might feel my representation of the Federation as a whole was compromised, 'Lexi is working tirelessly to ensure that Klatch becomes immune to Vaadian aggression through it's connections."

"You've possibly heard they are refusing to negotiate with us now while spreading all manner of interesting rumour." she grimaced, "If one was a Klatchian, one might think they were preparing for war with us."

She laughed suddenly, "Anyway, enough of these boring Klatchian politics... Tell me about the situation here in the United Imperial Kingdoms. What is the feeling towards Klatch?" a pensive purse of the lips, "No angry mob, that's a start at least."

Caroline's smile was met with a polite one that indicated neither interest, nor disinterest.

"We've never had dealings with Karmanyaka, but your Walrusy friends... I must confess, young Elgiva has quite a fascination with them," Edmund commented. "And I understand completely; thank goodness I don't get a vote at States-General or Council, or there would be conflicts of interest right, left, and centre. But as for the mood... well, first, this isn't the UIK. You're in the Royal Dominion of Akmadar right now. The UIK border is about a hundred kilometres away."

"Doesn't answer her question, dear," Livia murmured, examining a cuticle.

"It's an important distinction," Edmund protested as Alexander snorted.

"We Akmadari would be more irritated that you confused us with those Southerners than if you turned Ilek-Vaad into plate glass," Livia said after a moment. "The Saldari don't care what happens out of Vårheim, but the Takuli are still irked over that Squall Straits Debacle. Makaluiki's Grand Duke said last week that it was high time you brought those rebels to heel, his words, not mine... and that covers four of the five major nations. But south? Dear? What does Greenmotte think?"

Edmund looked calm.
"No angry mob, but Justina's hit the roof and taken half the Foreign Relations committee system with her. There'll be a lot of noise while her rechtaire and the Deputy First talk her down; you'll read an angry speech or two, then she'll move on. The rest of the Cabinet is caught up in the rachmas that can be generated from a more substantial Klatchian market, and the Daíl is re-ordering the colonies again; a long and involved business..." he smiled warmly. "You have little to worry about from here, as long as you don't kill too many people."

"Taking your metaphor further, dear, tell her about the Kraken in the water," Livia sniped. Foxworth looked grave, and exchanged a glance with Alexander.

"His Serene Majesty," Edmund explained. "If you alienate him, an angry mob will be a calm delegation compared to the protests we'd see."

"My brother, Thomas, will be here tomorrow morning," Alexander added. "If I were you, I'd take the opportunity to ask him what dad's thinking."

"Sorry." Caroline apologised for her faux pas with the naming of the Nation. The political system here still confused her a little.

She nodded along with Edmund's explanation, "That sound's fairly positive." she eventually concluded with a slight grin, "We will try not to kill too many people."

Alexander's comment registered on her. He was important, although she wasn't 100% as to who he actually was, "I will bear that in mind." she commented to him.

"Whoever I meet on this visit I will treat with the dignity they deserve." the President promised, "I want it to be known to the world that Klatch is not some ridiculous Empire bent on conquest. We want to do business, and in order to do that it is imperative we get to understand, acknowledge and respect other cultures, which is only what should have been being done in previous regimes."

"Ah, Mister Bart has unwrapped our gift." Caroline suddenly changed topic.

He was in fact, just settling it down on the table. It was on first glance, a Fabergé egg... although it was apparent it had been made in Dyelli Beybi, with the base designed to appear like one of Dyelli Beybi's pyramids in gold...

"A gift to your House." she explained, "A token of the eternal friendship of Klatch and the rather depleted House ab Ieauf."

Alexander did not seem to be about to enlighten anyone as to his status, merely offering a shrug in response to ab Ieauf's comments. At the desk Paul darted them a questioning look, but returned to his work when it met the back of Alexander's head.

No-one seemed even remotely thrown by the change in topic. Livia rose to her feet and fairly glided across the room to hover around the table.

"My word, it's divine..." she breathed in Ka'ani; the tone transcended the language barrier though. Foxworth didn't get up, but did shift position slightly to get a better view. Alexander leaned forward, then whipped his head around to glare at Paul, who guiltily returned his attention to the book.

There were several moments of silence as the three examined it, Livia moving around, while Alexander titled his head from side to side, like a bird. Edmund's scrutiny resembled that of the cat; steady and unblinking. Approval fairly radiated out. Then-

"Do you think-?" Foxworth asked, looking at Livia.

"Well above," Alexander said, shaking his head.

"Shame," Livia said, then looked up at the President. "This is a truly marvellous gift, and we are pleased to receive it, but we cannot keep it..."

Foxworth took over. "It's well over the threshold, and becomes the property of the crown. We could apply for the trusteeship though. But to keep it outright..." he seemed to struggle for a moment.

"Could be seen as bribery by some," Alexander murmured. "The intent doesn't matter," he said, "there are those who will still see it that way..."

"Especially the Vaadians," Livia said, her mouth twisting. "They'd see this not for what it is, but as an incentive to have us use our influence at Court and in the government to the non-aggression pact renounced and see the Covenant side with the Federation," she shook her head. "Silly really. It's a token of friendship between friends. They always think the worst of you. Silly," she repeated.

"So," Foxworth straightened himself. "I, Sir Edmund Foxworth, on behalf of His Serene Majesty, thank you Baroness Caroline ab Ieauf, for this token of your friendship and the friendship of the Federation. I only regret that we have no such similar offer, and hope to be able to return your generosity in kind."

Just nod and smile, Alexander mouthed at the President.

A slight flicker of the eyes acknowledged that Caroline had noticed what Alexander was mouthing, she nodded and smiled, wondering quietly if they realised it was a Dyellian replica, she was sure she'd said it was from Dyelli Beybi...

"Friendship is a gift without peer." she replied earnestly.

Strangely it was the fact that the egg was a Dyellian replica that had the Foxworths making a fuss. It was the only one of its kind in the entirety of Varheim, and the first time that a Dyellian work of art - any Dyellian work of art - had entered the Covenant. That alone made it extremely valuable.

Not to mention that it was pretty, and Livia was a sucker for pretty things.

"Indeed," Livia said, gesturing to one of the servants to spirit the gift away. Another politely knocked on the door.

"Sers, Seras, dinner is served," he said with a bow. Paul promptly vanished, a small thunderclap following him from the room. Alexander stood and offered his arm to Livia, while Sir Edmund stood with difficulty (dislodging Sooty, who glared at him), and offered his own arm to Caroline.

"Shall we?" he murmured.

Regardless of the answer, the dining room was continuing the by-now-famliar cosy feeling, warmly lit, dark wood, cream walls, the carpet giving way to floorboards. A buffet had been set up, liberally sprinkled with various foods. A sideboard held varying amounts of ports, wines, liquors, stimulants, and a large jug of chilled water.

Paul was already there, picking at the buffet. He looked up when they entered, and keeping his gaze solidly on Livia, said "Melons are good, grapes are seeded. Chicken's dry without the sauce. Salmon is smoked, and limited. Go for a plate of the lot. Oh, and Auntie Sandra rang; she wants to know if it was Season four or five you were after." it was the most he'd said the whole evening.

Edmund smiled and, while Livia responded, whispered to the President "Teenage relatives have their virtues; you just need to find where to apply their natural talents."

Alexander was already passing out plates; they were octagonal, plain, white, and clearly not of the state-occasion-best-China-variety; Foxworth's was chipped on the edge. Family crockery.

Caroline had apparently begun to relax somewhat. Standing when everyone else did, and placing a hand formally on Edmund's hand, but wearing an easy smile, "Lead on."

She was still wearing the same smile as she listened to Paul's description of what was on offer, "Yes they certainly do." she replied quietly and with a slight laugh, "Honestly, I envy you. It can get quite lonely being the sole survivor... I have my half-sister, but she's married to a Vaadian buffoon so I rarely see her... and of course as she's the only heir to the Barony if I die, her pillock of a husband would suddenly become a Dyellian baron and hey ho they'd be burning the estates again, and there would be a war; the Dyellians are a very passionate group of people and that man lacks the manners to get on with them."

"Sooo." she asked, in a louder voice, "What would you reccommend?"

"Sorry." she lowered her voice again, "I'll cut out the politics."

(OOC: Sorry I haven't been around recently, troubles in my personal life have made it very hard for me to write stuff.)

(OOC: I hear you man, I hear you; much sympathy and well wishes)

For a moment they all looked sad; even Paul's blush receded.

"Well dear, we'll just have to set you up with someone," Livia smiled, attempting to brighten the mood. Paul's blush returned in force and he buried himself behind the buffet, but Alex regarded the President with a grave expression.

"I'd try the chicken," Edmund murmured in answer to her question. "And don't worry about talking politics; it's talking shop for us, and conversation can expand out of it."

"One of the few things we all have in common," Livia remarked, and gestured with a drumstick at Alex. "That one can gabble about his academic exploits, but unless you've got first-class honours in physics you haven't a hope of understanding him."

As a rejoinder, Alex poked his tongue out, then offered to pour a glass of orange juice for ab Ieauf as the Foxworths laughed.

Caroline looked startled for a second, then gave a wry smile, "That is an option I hadn't considered... I was thinking of implying to the Tzarina that for the future of her country it might be a good idea to fix some new inheritance laws."

"Chicken you say?" she followed, Foxworth's reccomendation, helping herself to a modest portion of food before seating herself.

She sat silently for a moment, then there was a quick dart of her hand, quick enough that anyone who wasn't watching would probably miss it... For anyone who had notice, she had crossed herself. The Dyellians were a devout people in their own peculiar way...

"Thank you." she nodded and smiled to Alexander, "That's very kind."

Livia's talk of Alexander's knowledge of physics, evidently impressed the Dyellian "First class honours in physics hmm." she shook her head, "I remember doing some anatomical physics paper back in the day. Never really understood it... and definitely can't remember a thing now."

"I was in Medical school." Caroline explained, "Then war broke out in Dyelli Beybi... as it tends to, and things turned out somewhat differently."

"I think you'd have dificulty." she changed the subject, giving Livia the same wry smile from before but with a hint of humour, "I have all these unfortunate passtimes, like being the President of Klatch. They tend to be a little offputting."

"Ah, the Successional Laws," Foxworth said, settling down into a chair of his own (he'd lingered over at the buffet), "Heirs-Designate and Presumptive. You see, Caroline, in most places you have an heir, and that's it. Eldest child/living relative gets all. Heir-Apparent and all that. Not so here. You have an heir presumptive - the eldest child or relative - who gets the title if no-one else is named..."

Alexander took over.
"An heir presumptive is called a "Rígdamna". Heirs-designate, called a "Tánaise", are named by the current title holder. For example, the heir of the house of deIntaan is the Duchess's eldest daughter; the mother hasn't said anything about it, so she's Rígdamna. On the other hand, the heir of the house of Tredyen is not the Duchess Vera's eldest son. The next Duke of the house will be her grand-nephew, he is her Tánaise. Don't look so shocked Ed, just because I don't like politics doesn't mean I don't pay attention." he said, focusing said attention on his meal while Paul sniggered and Edmund, with some effort, closed his mouth. Livia took the chance and switched the topic decisively back to Caroline's relationship status.

"Enough of that," she said lightly, "Now, Caroline, dear, don't let it get you down. I hardly think your Presidency will stand in the way of a little romance..." Edmund nodded in agreement while she continued speaking.

"You're young, pretty, smart, educated, and very successful. You're nobility. You're a head of state. You should be fighting the young men, or the young ladies, off with a stick. It's all a matter of going to the right parties... let me think... darling, how many seated lords are there?"

"600 neat. Plus the House Lords and Cabinet," came the reply.

"There you go," Livia nodded sagely. "Six hundred and twenty-four nobles in the UIK Parliament alone - and most with unwed siblings and children. Now if we throw in the Uath lines, the unseated Peers, and the nobility of the other Covenant nations, we'd have enough potential suitors to sink a battleship or four. And that's only if you want to marry someone from here. Really the only problem will be the choice..."

During her speech the two younger males had concentrated on their food, while Edmund had drifted back to the buffet to seize a bunch of grapes.

Caroline nodded along with a vaguely confused look on her face, although toward's the end of Alexander's explanation, she looked to be begining to get a grasp of what he was talking about, "Back home, traditionally what happened was the male offspring, including those born outside of wedlock split everything equally... as you can imagine this caused some considerable problems, especially when it came to crowning a new King. In the middle ages there was a civil war every time there was a succession."

"It's a peculiar kind of madness that comes from too much desert sun." she explained in a tone of mock seriousness.

The abrupt change of dinner time conversation back to her love life, or lack there of, didn't seem to phase the young Dyellian, "Oh what could it hurt to meet some people?" she laughed, "And it's definitely young men for me." she smiled, looking like she was trying to avoid grinning.

"Honestly, I wouldn't care for most of the Dyellian nobility." she confided, "I had a lot of trouble with them prior to the Revolution. I was running their little resistance cell in Port Olympus... of course I wasn't invited to any planning meetings or anything, being a Baroness. Then I left for a few weeks down to try to gauge the Cardinal's position on things, come back and find they've decided to marry some wastrel of a son to 'Lexi.... never mind what she thinks."

She rolled her eyes, "Back when I was in the Glawis dynasty days, women didn't have a great deal of rights. Half of the old Lords are still crooning about the 'good old days', of course things have moved on since then, six years and three revolutions, the last of which put 'Lexi in charge. She's an interesting person, always got this look on her face like she's off in a dream world, but as sharp as a razor."

She paused, to eat a mouthful of chicken, "The food is fantastic by the way... so you were saying before, you don't think success and whatnot would be offputting?" she asked Livia for confirmation, sounding slightly suprised that this might be the case... as it evidently wasn't in Dyelli Beybi or probably the rest of Klatch.

Caroline was now the focus of four astonished stares (not counting staff). Paul was the first to recover the power of speech.

"You're joking, right?" he exclaimed, then turned red as he realised he'd vocalised his thoughts. While Edmund and Alexander were still fighting for mental balance, Livia was second to recover.

"Success in a woman? Off-putting? My dear, where have you been?" she asked. "The nearest station we have to you is Edmund's role. If you were the Lady-President, and single, you'd need an entire department just to handle the invitations from elderly aunts looking to match you to someone," she tore off a drumstick. "A successful woman in these nations attracts successful men, and the attention of elderly relatives such as myself with too much time on their hands. Be very wary of the Cenariph; she's not an elderly aunt, but she knows a great many, and if she decides you need a nice boy from a good family, well..." she shrugged and stripped the meat from the bone. It really wasn't a knife-and-fork type of dinner.

"It comes from having as many Empresses as Emperors," Alexander said softly. "Women on the Throne of Light do not take kindly to men thinking them inferior because of their sex, and make their displeasure known in ways that historically involve wild horses."

"No." she shook her head, "I'm not joking, although obviously I wish I was. That's the way things were." she shrugged.

"Of course." she added quickly, "That's not a reflection of the populace of a whole, neither is that all the nobility, a number sided with the Socialist Revolution 6 years ago... the last Tzar was not precisely liked, although there were obviously people who benefited from his position. There is a reason 'Lexi is such a rampant leftist."

She gave a short laugh, suddenly realising what she was doing, "Sorry... Alexia, the Tzarina and Prime Minister. At the moment she is a little more than liked."

It was an understatement, Alexia ap Adam was practically worshiped by the populace... Caroline listened to the talk of elderly aunts, making a sizeable dent on her meal as she did, "I will endeavour to keep my wits about me." she laughed.

"No." she replied to Alexander, "It is not something which makes me happy either... but I guess growing up under the Tzar's Dyelli Beybi has given me a level of acceptance of inequalities that you yourselves have thankfully not had to aquire."

Edmund had a clear look of disgust on his face at the thought of having to acquire such acceptance (Livia looked faintly outraged), while Alexander was curiously wooden.

"If she is as you say, Her Majesty will effect a permanent change to such... modes of behaviour," he said simply, turning back to his food. The comment hung a moment, then Livia smiled brightly.

"Quite," she said, "it's amazing what such examples can do. So her Majesty is still single then?" she winked and grinned, then over Edmund's chuckles, added "Of course, I have no ulterior motive. Such as inviting her around then arranging for the Cenariph to drop in. Never. Not I." While Paul and Edmund laughed quietly and Alexander shook his head with a smile, the Lord-President's wife took a drink, pleased that she'd managed to bring them to lighter conversation. Anyone could see that Alexander was loosing a battle with fatigue, and that the awkward teenager sitting around the table didn't need or want deep thoughts to put his foot in right now.

"Yoghurt, I think," Edmund gestured one of the staffers over, and requested a bowl of the stuff, with peach slices, and some paracetamol. Now, please.

"Ah yes," Livia said, "Dessert. I think, Caroline, you will find the fruits of peace to be to your liking," a bowl was set down in front of Edmund, who began to demolish it, "But the peaches are also good," she eyed the bowl covetously.

"If she can she will." Caroline supplied after Edmund's pause, "But bear in mind it wasn't a problem with the majority of the people, more the few up at top."

She laughed at Livia's comment, "Oh I think the Cenariph would have a lot of problems getting her to stop thinking of politics and notice a suitor..."

"Head in the clouds." Caroline supplied, shaking her head.

Caroline looked at Livia quizzically when the topic switched to dessert, "Fruits of peace? I do not believe I've heard of that... except in a metaphorical sense."

"Oh, I was speaking metaphorically..." Livia was now twirling a fork in one hand; in one well-practised movement, she speared a slice of peach from her husband's bowl and popped in her mouth, chewing contentedly while Edmund squawked in outrage. Livia swallowed and grinned.

"But the peaches are good too," she added, still smiling.

Alexander shook his head, and announced that he was turning in.

"But it was very nice to meet you Caroline," he said nodding. "See you in the morning people."

As he left, Paul excused himself and followed. Livia waved with the hand that held the fork, while Edmund nodded, abandoning his bowl to Livia's raiding fork.

"Oh, trust me," Edmund said after they'd left, casting dark looks at his wife, "Her Imperial Majesty isn't a matchmaker; she causes matchmaking in other people. Not to name names, dear."

Livia, cheeks bulging, wore an angelic look of false innocence that no-one could believe.

Caroline laughed, shaking her head a little, "You can't be too careful, why in Fasta Benj they actually grow 'grapes of wrath'."

"A pleasure Alexander" she nodded to him as he left.

"I might turn in soon as well." she spoke apologetically, "Jet lag is not a pleasant business."

She looked a bit tired now that she came to mention it...

"So by implication." she joined in after Edmund, "She runs a web of intrigue... seems we Dyellians aren't so unlike your people after all." she grined.

(OOC: Apologies for the poor quality of the reply, it is quite late, also apologies for the prolonged absence, I have been extremely busy.)

(OOC: No worries)

IC:
Alexander said something in response, but it didn't quite make it to hearing range; Paul poked his head in and muttered something about "nice to meet you too." before vanishing.

The Foxworths nodded in acceptance. They expected as much, truth be told.

"Understandable," Livia said, "You have come a very long way after all. Anyway, it's time we all turned in. We old folk need our sleep," the last was said with a wry grin.

Edmund was still caught on discussions about the Cenariph.

"Not so much a web of intrigue Caroline," he said, "More a case of she'd look at Alexia and say "that girl needs to meet a good boy from a nice family" and about fifty maiden aunts would reach for the family album. Probably why the Royal Family is so retiring; their idle comments and suggestions tend to be viewed as commands. I know His Serene Majesty finds it profoundly irritating..." he seemed about to continue, but Livia was giving him a Look.

"Anyway," he pulled himself to his feet, and fumbled for his cane, "We shall see you in the morning Caroline. Breakfast is served from around 6:30 onwards when we have guests; what you would call a full English Breakfast, and a "Continental" buffet. All down here, or the next room."

"Alexander will probably be here already," Livia said, also standing. "Tends to have an erratic sleep cycle, but rises early when he comes to stay."

********

About this time, a message arrived on the desk of Alexia ap Adam; the Imperial Ambassador to the Federation was requesting permission and clearance to establish a consulate in Cyro, "so as to better facilitate relations between the Covenant and your august self." The Ambassador's missive explained that, should relations develop as he hoped, additional consulates may be required in major cities, but "one in the principal city should suffice for these early days".
Clearly someone in Arn-Maciska desired a direct line of communication to the Tzarina, one that wouldn't pull Primarch Valnard away from Port Olympus.

"You too." she smiled at Paul.

Caroline laughed slightly at what Edmund had to say, "Sounds like people are very eager to please." she rolled her eyes, "Would be nice of the Klatchians behaved the same towards their elected President."

"6:30? Mmph ok." she rose to leave, "It is a genuine pleasure to be here, you are fine people and deserve to be very proud of what you have... I'll see you in the morning."

She was there at 6:30 on the dot the next morning, looking slightly bleary eyed. This time she had opted for a long black jacket that reached her knees and was belted at the waist, a black skirt, which was short enough to only slightly extend beyond the jacket, and similarly coloured boots. It was smart, although slightly more casual than what she normally opted for.

Livia had frowned slightly, then bade Caroline a good night's rest, before assisting Edmund from the room.

It was a very surprised Alexander who turned up first, about five minutes after Caroline arrived. Breakfast had been spread out in a self-serve fashion by equally surprised staffers, only one of which spoke English, and then very poorly.
The Alexander who turned up had his hair ruffled, and was wearing a woollen dressing gown over long-sleeved and -legged dark blue pyjamas, with low-cut ugg boots on the feet. He looked at Caroline for a moment, blinked, shook his head, and then blearily his way to the beverage stand.

"Good Morning Caroline," he muttered, then stopped, turned, and gave her a long slow look from head to toe and back again.

"Um, Caroline, when they said "from 6:30" they meant "feel free to show up any time from then" not "you must show up" - we thought to keep things informal... You're a guest in their home. You want some of this stuff?" he jerked his thumb at the urns.

He waited for the answer then continued, cracking a yawn as he did so.
"Liv and Ed won't even be awake yet. And we're not likely to see Paul before eleven. And Thomas won't show up before ten," he blinked owlishly, running a hand through sleep-ruffled hair; it stuck up. "And you're jet-lagged. Seriously, you could take as long as you wanted getting up, and no-one would have thought anything of it," so saying he stretched his hands above his head, a movement that hinted at a toned physique, and twisted his neck.

"Sorry if I'm being brusque, it's early," he tried and failed to stifle another yawn. "And I'm not used to company at this hour."

"Sprichst du Deutsches?" Caroline tried on the staff member in the peculiar Dyellian dialect of German, then tried Arabic "هل تتكلم العربية؟"

It was about this point that Alexander showed up, "Morning." she remarked cheerfully, switching back to English.

A slight smile developed at Alexander's attention, "I'm totally over dressed again aren't I."

She laughed, sitting down, crossing her legs, "I thought 6:30 was rather early, but I didn't want to comment if that was what people did here. Is there coffee in one of those? Don't normally drink the stuff, but I've heard it's good for waking you up."

She was looking at the urns in a way that suggested she would get up in a moment when she could find the energy.

She waved away the comment about brusqueness, "It's fine, I wouldn't have said you were being brusque."

She yawned, then laughed again, "Sorry, yawns are contageous... So tell me about yourself."

Both attempts to try alternative languages were met with polite incomprehension.

Alexander fetched a cup, filled it, and placed it on the table.
"Cream and sugar?" he asked, then titled his head to listen to the rest of Caroline's words.

"A trifle overdressed for the crack of dawn, yes," he said, "now about me? What do you want to know? I work in a research school of physics; I'm a fellow at the University of Arn-Arakhan, but they like to trade me around. I'm at Arn-Maciska now. I have a double degree in Arts/Science, honours in physics and am doing a master's in something godawfully long-winded."

While he was speaking he'd grabbed a plate and had been shuffling slices of bread into a conveyer-toaster; he collected these and started to apply butter, back to Caroline.

"I'm the oldest kid in the family, with multiple siblings. You'll be meeting my younger brother Thomas later today. I think you'd get on, as long as you're prepared to assume a tenuous grip on sanity; his sense of humour is kind of skewed," he shrugged and turned around.

"I enjoy a good game of hurls, much to mother's consternation. She prefers I go foxhunting. That's fun too, but," he shrugged again. Yawns had been fought throughout the spiel.

"I don't really know," he fought around another one. "What do you want to know about me?"

"We'll try it black I think." Caroline gave one of her more winning smiles, she had dimples... "Thank you."

"Conjoint.. mmm what did you major in for Arts?" she asked politely, taking a swig of coffee and grimacing, "Uurgh... Now I get why it wakes you up."

She didn't seem about to move towards the table right now, content just to drink the coffee, "As you may have gathered I got have way through a Batchelor's of Surgery before one of Dyelli Beybi's numerous civil wars broke out."

She yawned back, convering her mouth then laughing softly, "Stop that or neither of us will, look I'll make an effort."

As if to punctuate the futility of her effort, she immediately yawned again.

"After that I did a variety of things, none of which was particularly pleasant, but unfortunately never found time to go back and finish the degree. It would have been nice." she shook her head, "Seven years ago I wanted to be a Doctor, but fate has a funny way of giving you something other than what you asked for."

"So what's hurls?" she asked, giving a slight frown, "Don't think I've heard of that... is it a bit like hurley?"

"...As for what I want to know about you... well..." a slight half smile, "What would you like me to know?"

Alexander nodded, sending a fresh slice of bread into the conveyor.
"Pretty much exactly like it, except we wear masks, mainly because of the damage that can be done to the eyesockets, nose, and teeth. Imported from Ériu, and extremely popular."

He paused to consume another prepared slice of toast; the other was still worming its way through the toaster, and he considered her question.

"Yes, your nation has suffered under the lash of war. Like so very many others beyond the gates. Anyway," he retrieved his slice and began to butter it. "my arts major was Norse Languages and Mythology, single combined unit, insofar as it applies to this... I'm not sure of the Klatchian term... I think you use the common reference of "region", but we've always found it too vague," he washed the comment down.

"You see, our first contact with the other great earthborn nation of this, ah, region, Wisjersey, occurred in areas dominated by those people, so their language became the first common tongue, and the mythology has been adapted... I'm sorry, I'm boring you, aren't I?" He paused to take a bite, then continued.

"If it's just the bare bones basics you're after; I was born in Arn-Maciska, grew up there, and am here to tutor Paul so he can pass his secondary schooling. I'm not one of the Foxworths, though our families are friends. No, I'm not telling you which family. I don't want to spoil Tom's fun. Or rather, I want the book that he's got for me, and he knows it."

OOC: And I haven't worked out exactly how old Alex actually is yet...

"I thought the damage was half of the fun of the sport." Caroline grinned, showing teeth that had definitely never been near a hurling match.

She drained the rest of the coffee, listening to the talk of mythology, finally shaking her head when Alexander implied she might be being bored, "No. You aren't boring me at all, carry on."

"JQuestion..." she looked over towards the breakfast selection, "is there any cereal over there, it could be me just being blind..."

She was leaning her head slightly to one side, as she considered Alexander momentarily, "Now I'm guessing that in order for this to provide entertainment that this would be a family of some considerable significance."

"That's using my underdeveloped skills of deduction." she shrugged, perfectly prepared for her deduction to be proved incorrect.

"Of course." Caroline leaned forward conspiratorially, "If it's only the book you're after, you could just tell me, and I could act like I didn't know beforehand."

Alexander waved vaguely at the buffet. "Cereal; oats, some sort of puffed rice, rolled wheat, and so on. Bowls. Milk. Light and full cow. No soy milk. We don't believe in it."

He turned to her with a toothy smile that was equally straight and shiny.
"Violence can be appealing in the game. But orthodontia is expensive and inconvenient," he tapped his teeth, "Ocular reconstruction is painful and lengthy," and here he tapped the skin under his left eye. "Hence the masks. But flesh reconstruction is simple and cheap; you'd never know that it was laid open to the bone," he ran his fingers along the outer edge of his right forearm.

"Are we a significant family?" he raised an eyebrow, then stifled a yawn. "Define 'significant'," he smiled slightly. "Anyway, you've probably already worked it out. Medical school is no errand for the faint of brain. So why spoil what little surprise is left?" he chuckled.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes the terms in the old Viking and Norse mythologies were adapted to describe certain subjects, such as the word "gard" For example, we are in the gard of Vårheim," he was warming to the subject, and his left hand was being used to introduce points; the right curled around the steaming mug. "Your Federation, Ilek-Vaad, those wildernesses to your north and east, are in the gard of Klatchia. And there are the points of intersect, where you move from one to another. It all ties into the nature of the reality we inhabit, and how we perceive and interact with it," he took a drink.

"And I'm utterly fascinated by it. Well, obviously. You don't commit to a master's and not be interested in the subject," he chuckled at his poor joke.

"That's excellent." Caroline finally summoned the effort to get up and help herself to some breakfast, gravitating towards the puffed rice, mostly because it was the only item she was really familiar with, "Soy can never emulate milk. Just like margerine can never emulate butter."

She reseated herself, "So I take it you've taken a few bashes? Doctor's round here must be good."

"I would compare notes." she winked conspiratorially, "But you'd never believe the half of it."

She fell silent listening to the talk on mythology, taking a couple of mouthfuls of cereal as Alexander spoke, nodding along as she did. She laughed when he did, sounding genuinely amused...

"Well yes I would assume it would imply you were at least a little interested." she paused, thinking about what had just been said, "The gard of Klatchia? Interesting... So I suppose you'd know a lot about Niðavellir and Álfheimr?"

"By the way." she added, she was biting the edge of her lip, "I wouldn't give me too much credit. Sure I was in medical school, but I was hardly top of the class... and the ability to memorise the names of all the muscles in the body hardly implies any skills at deduction."

Alexander nodded.
"Yes, they are. My worst was an ocular reconstruction; left eye had to be rebuilt. The longest part of the process is getting your body, brain, and the new bits to talk to each other. And the eyes are as sensitive as a newborn's," he shook his head. "I do not recommend the process."

Another piece of toast was processed as he spoke.

"Anyway, Niðavellir and Álfheimr? Only insofar as they pose relevance to my studies," again he shrugged. "What we were really after was terminology and reference, which in truth has been twisted beyond recognition. As far was I know those two regions don't really exist, but then again, I'm not researching exploration. They could very well do so, and be closed gards; you know, the regions, or worlds, that we know are there, but we can't access. But yes, it's a very interesting field... did you know that the island that Sheilas and Bruces occupies in Klatchia is identical in shape to the continent of Sulyet here in Vårheim? Quite curious."

He titled his head, studying the President intently. "Incidentally that argument against your mental prowess won't fly with me, and certainly will sink with Thomas. You don't get elected a President of Klatch without a brain. Your politics are almost as cut-throat as the Takuli-- Liv? What's up?"

Hurricane Livia entered the room at that point. She was dressed in a business suit and skirt ensemble, her hair being arranged and rearranged by a very nimble elderly-looking woman with a brush, and was talking a mile a minute in Ka'ani to a harassed-looking pair of aides.

"Morning Alex, Caroline,-" chatter in Ka'ani "- the First Minister, she's gone and changed the rules again -" more chatter, "- the Merchant's Alliance and the Nationalists-" two slices of toast were grabbed from Alexander's plate "-ta, she threw them out of the Grand Coalition-" chatter "- on live TV-" swig of orange juice "-about half an hour ago-" consumption of one of the slices "-woman doesn't sleep-" a barked order "-she's still got her majority-" another swig "-and now she's on the floor of the Lords, tearing them all a new arsehole-" another burst of chatter. "-Ed needs me to remind the press that we don't touch UIK politics while the parties all kiss her feet and do a mea culpa. Be back in half an hour-" she vanished out the other side, sucking her aides away, and chewing down on the other slice as she did so. At no point had she stopped moving.

There was a moment of silence.

"Ed'll probably be down in a quarter of an hour," Alexander said calmly, getting up to replace his pillaged toast.

"Ouch." Caroline winced, "I can imagine that would be painful."

"Hmm?" she sounded suprised by the comparison between Sheilas and Bruces and Sulyet. She shook her head, "No, I was not aware, although these things don't suprise me too much. Whoever created our world had an unusual sense of humour."

"Perhaps a bass animal cunning." she protested, "But truthfully politics doesn't require any real brain power, not like the Secret Service..."

"Ah good morning." she spoke to Livia, looking slightly stunned by the speed of it all, "I take it she's busy."

"The thing about Klatch is that it's sort of like running a plane on auto pilot." she explained, picking up from before, "You just make sure everything is in working order and it does all the complicated bits for itself."

He darted a glance at the door and held his finger and thumb an inch apart.
"Just a tad busy."

Alexander looked at Caroline and smiled.
"Take a look at maps of ViZion's northern claims, the Ottoman Khaif, and the central lands of Rotovia," he said. "You'll see that, geographically, they're identical. The longitude and latitude, taken from geomagnetic readings, even seem to match, as do the climates and wildlife. Unusual? Talk about understatement."

Alexander smiled again as he sat down.
"I wouldn't know how it goes in the Covenant. You'd have to ask Thomas about that. I do know that you've made a remarkable impression on Ed. First foreign head of state to be here in years. The last one was then-President Bacchus of Rotovia; and that was before I was born," his smile faded slightly.

"And yes, the intelligence services do need brains," he titled his head. "I thought it would be impolite to tell you that I've read your file. Oh, yes, you have one. Thomas, Ed, Ellie, they all find your nation as fascinating as I find trans-gard physics," the smile returned. "And don't worry, we don't hold the Cheka thing against you. Frankly if anything, you've gotten more respect for it... Hello Gerald."

A servant had entered at this point, bearing an armload of newspapers.
"Morning spread ser, sera," he said, setting them out on the table. "English for the sera, and Ka'ani for ser. I'm afraid we couldn't find a Klatchian paper for sera."

"Thank you Gerald," Alexander said, shaking out one of the papers. "Unless Caroline has a request, that will be all."

Gerald looked to the President, his face a picture of polite enquiry.

Caroline pondered this information on the geography and wildlife of the two continents, "That's definitely a curly one, probably best left to the scientists." she shook her head, looking more than a little puzzled, "Some kind of anomaly in the fabric of space and time?" She shrugged.

She finished her cereal, setting the spoon down slowly, avoiding any clatter. She gave a slight shake of her head, "Interesting, you have access to intelligence files, must be someone important." she mused, "I trust you found mine suitably sketchy about exactly what went on in the last few years? I assume your ones have been updated since my 'death' last year..."

"No, no requests, thank you." she assured Gerald, "Although perhaps if you have had the opportunity to cast your eye across them you might be able to draw my attention to any part where I or my Nation have been mentioned?"

OOC: Is this happening at the same time as the Vaadian attack?
IC:
Alexander merely smiled and said "We generally don't discuss the contents of a report with its subject. And those anomalies are what is allowing you to be here right now, else this would be a closed gard... Caroline, remember; I am a scientist," a smile took any sting out of his words.

Gerald coughed politely.
"Nothing major. A mention that travel warnings and restrictions have been lifted by the Takuli. A favourable cartoon in the Maciska Herald. A speech from the Grand Duke again; he's calling on deMa'iska to revoke the non-aggression pact with Ilek-Vaad and support the Federation. Page 8, Maciska Daily," he thought a moment. "Oh, and the Arn-Maciska Times has a letter to the editor; the people on the street want to meet the Klatchian Ambassador, when you appoint one. They wonder if he or she will be as friendly as the Vaadian."

"Yes," Alexander looked like he'd tasted something unpleasant. "Seder spent his first few weeks doing a meet-and-greet out the front of his Embassy. I suspect they're wondering where you are..."

Gerald had bowed slightly and withdrawn as Alexander spoke.
"In any case," he opened up a paper and began hunting for the comics. "I hope the mention of that lot didn't ruin your morning appetite. Ah, here we go; my horoscope... Good day to bring home an insectivore as a pet.... I think mother might object to that..."

OOC: I'm assuming this is some time before, but we can catch up shortly lol :P

"Not generally." she smiled knowingly, "But that of course depends on what particular aspect we are talking about... for instance it should be self evident that a live person would be listed as alive." she grinned, "I think it would have been safe to say yes to that one."

"A favourable cartoon?" she pursed her lips in thought, "Now that is a novelty... I must take a look, thank you Gerald, you've been very helpful."

She flicked through the Herald until she found the item, studying it in depth, "Male or female?" she asked suddenly.

There was time for a what are you talking about?, an uneasy explanation or a period of silence before Caroline continued, "Obviously while I find such bass propaganda spreading in a neutral country quite... unfortunate, Klatch must respond with someone far more photogenic than the Vaadian Ambassador." there was a twinkle in her eye, "So do you think your fair Nation would find themselves more inclined to tune in and watch a male or a female Klatchian explaining Klatch's standpoint?"

"Interesting horoscope." she remarked, "Is that something you might usually do? Could you pass me the Maciska Daily please?"

"Male or Female?"
There was a slow stare and a couple of blinks.
"I'm sorry?" Alexander asked, "I think we're watching different channels here..."

He craned his neck to see the cartoon, then shrugged and looked into the middle distance while he considered the next question.

"As long as they're human or walrus, I doubt gender would matter," he answered. "But if your intent is to get your ambassador to charm his or her way past the Parliament or the Royal Family, using that basis, well..." he bit his lip, and shook his head.

"But anyway, here's the Maciska Daily," he held it out, and smiled gently. "But I hope you can read Ka'ani. The English one is underneath the Times, in front of you."

The Grand Duke of Makaluiki had penned a very acidic speech; an ardent supporter of the Greater Empire, he declared Vaadian "separatism" to be a "dangerous and destabilising influence" and that their "diplomacy, if it can be called that, is no more than an attempt to fabricate a pretext for further aggravating actions."

An editorial postscript blandly noted that no response or comment had come from Duke Street, Kingsgrange, or Greenmotte.

When she finished reading she would have found a pair of dark green eyes watching her.
"And it's more of a humourscope, than a horoscope," Alexander added, blinking.

"Your people pride themselves on equality between genders and freedom of sexuality and such?" Caroline asked, although it sounded more like a rhetorical question, "We'll send a woman. It will prove we believe in equality as well."

"And no." she gave an amused half smile, "It's so that if they happen to be speaking on television or such, we get the maximum number of people paying attention... not usually how we'd chose our diplomats, but we want people to hear us and stop listening to Vaadian propaganda."

"They say the truth always shines through." it sounded like Caroline had gone into a little world of her own for a moment, one hand toying with a strand of hair before hooking it behind her ear, "But it never hurts to have the right person deliver the message."

She picked up the Times in English, giving a wry smile, "Haha, I don't think I'm at my best this morning. Thank you."

The article, while it might not have seemed the kind that would excite passion, caused at least a smile to form on the face of the Klatchian Prime Minister, "I was begining to wonder if Klatch was being totally unreasonable, with these people. It proves the Federation isn't going collectively mad after all."

She laughed at the humourscope comment, "Yeah I figured it probably wasn't completely serious... although I'm still a little rusty with the culture in this part of the world. For all I know the giant anteater might be a popular pet... Could you excuse me for literally 5 minutes?"

...She was 4 minutes.

----------

Fasta House, Cyro, Dyellian Home Office

"Good Lord man, what on God's fine earth is this?" the Director, a certain Sir Cecil Wolfe demanded of the startled worker.

"Well I'd say it's from central Government, courtesy of the Prime Minister." he ventured.

"Yes, I can see what it is." Wolfe waved the offending memo in the air, "The question is why is it adressed to Director Wolfe of the Home Office?"

The junior employee opened his mouth, but was cut off by Wolfe before he could speak, "If your answer to that question was going to be, 'because it's intended for you', then I'd suggest you rethink." he growled.

The junior shut his mouth, standing uneasily in front of the Director's desk. It was a modernist steel monstrosity with a LCD screen and computer on it which the young representative of the Home Office rather thought were props, being as Wolfe tended to prefer paper documents, all of which got stuffed in no particular order, into the cardboard box by his feet, "It does appear to be something that might traditionally be dealt with by M-FAT." he conceded.

"So why the Home Office?" Wolfe asked, raising his hand to silence the junior, "Rhetorical question boy. The reason it's Home Office is because this would traditionally have been a CSD-1 task, and since 90% of the Home Office is what used to be CSD-1, this has fallen to us. In other words, they know that while this is outside our scope, all our people have been vetted and probably trained for this kind of task."

The junior nodded.

Wolfe had huge bushy 'mutton chop' sideburns, and an equally bushy moustache. He was probably somewhere in his early sixties, although he looked like he'd just stepped out of the 1800s... "So we need to find a pretty girl who doesn't have anything to do at the moment and they want them briefed and ready to be an Ambassador by the end of the day."

The junior nodded, "In not so many words Sir."

Wolfe was staring intently through the glass walls of his office, the Dyellians liked glass walls if their offices weren't completely open plan... "Who's that girl by the water cooler? Former CSD-1?"

"Claudia Black, Cecil... yes, I believe she is... but how do you know she isn't busy?"

"Spends too long at the water cooler." Wolfe explained.

The junior nodded, "I'll fetch her." If this was anywhere else in the world, this would take months of interviews, or at least they'd consult files. But no, this is Dyelli Beybi... the wiley old dog... probably already worked everything out before he called me in, nobody could be that slap dash

----------

To: Relevant Governing body of the MEA (OOC: Pardon me for not knowing)
From: Offices of the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.
Subject: Mission Opening

To whom it may concern,

While we are aware that the Federation is yet to construct an Embassy in the United Imperial Kingdoms of Macisikan, we feel that it is in the best interests of both our Nations that we immediately dispatch an Ambassador whom we hope shall be able to opperate from within a hotel until the completion of construction of the Embassy. The Ambassador for the Federated Klatchian Coast will be dispated within the next 24 hours. Ambassador Black will be ready to present her credentials at the earliest convenience.

We hope that this move will serve to further strengthen relations between the United Imperial Kingdoms and the Federation,

Regards,
Secretary I. Delgado

Alexander had not commented, aside from a nod and gesture when she asked if she could be excused, accompanied by a murmured "but of course".

When she returned, Alexander had cleared away his plate and was standing with his mug half-empty, and a wry smile of his own.
"A word of warning Caroline," he said, "around here, gender equality and that sort of thing stumbles into a bog of religion. Of course the sexes are equal; God has ordained that it shall be so. And science offers proof positive," his eyes slid towards the article.

"I'd ask Thomas about that if I were you," he gestured with the mug. "Speaking of which, your company is most charming, but if I don't escape, I'm going to be greeting my brother in my dressing gown, and he'll dine out on it for weeks..." he smiled fondly.

"Edmund will be down in a bit, but I doubt he'll be awake. If Livia's the one who flew through here - I'm not sure it was; the Doppler effect distorted her voice - then it probably means that he's..." there was a pause while he hunted for an expression. "Well, feeling like merde," that was delivered with a smile that said yes, bad pun, I know.

"Gerald will be back up in a moment," he continued, "and, as you saw, he can speak English. The staff will be able to see to your needs, and those of your own staff when they arise. I'd suggest you take this time to unwind and relax a little; there are TVs, movies, the DataNet, not much in the way of books I'm afraid, and decks of cards are roosting in every room..." he nodded behind her; in its box, one such deck was actually perched over the doorjamb. It gave the impression it was watching them.

"Again," he said ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry about having you up so early. Try and think of this as a holiday; Ed said that you were..." he waved his hand vaguely. "What is the word? Tense? Under strain? Something un-fun, when he saw you at Christmas, so they thought they'd give you a bit of a break from all that... well, as much as possible given the exotic culture, alien language, strange religion, and distance from your homeland..."

**********

From: Secretariat of Ambassadorial Affairs, MEA (ooc: no worries, it's not like we tell anyone these things)
To: Offices of the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.
Subject: re: Mission Opening

Dear Mr. Secretary,

His Serene Majesty's Government is ready and pleased to receive your Ambassador, and has arranged temporary lodgings and office space at an appropriate location. We have yet to hear from your department as to the actual Embassy site within the Diplomatic Precinct; we have several recommendations - would it be best to put this to the Ambassador?

We shall be liaising with Stonebridge for the presentation of Her Excellency's presentation of her Letter of Credence; until that time, she will be accorded due status as an Ambassador Pro Tem (the legal status is the same, the title is a formality).

Incidentally Mr. Secretary, your Ambassador is not merely Ambassador to the UIK, but to the entire Covenant; for practical purposes however, it is the same thing.

Kind regards,

Baronet Julius Madarr
Secretary of State for Ambassadorial Affairs
Ministry of External Affairs

"Tense? Me?" she seemed to be about to deny it, paused, then gave a short sigh and pleasant smile, "Yeah he's right. It's those blasted Vaadians... anyway I won't hold you up... go and get dressed, I think there are enough news papers here to last me the week."

Then added as he was leaving, "Far away from Klatch is a good thing."

It was during that intervening period that Bart appeared to announce that everything had exploded back home. Caroline retired to her room, only to emerge some 20 minutes later wearing a well fitted grey skirt and jacket over a white blouse and carrying a notepad which she was scribbling on, even as she walked back into the dining room.

----------

To: Secretariat of Ambassadorial Affairs, MEA
From: Offices of the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.
Subject: re: re: Mission Opening

Dear Sir Julius Madarr,

In regards to your question regarding potential sites for an Embassy we feel that your idea of communicating these potential sites to the Ambassador to be the best option.

For reference, the Ambassador will collect her letter of Credence upon arrival being as the President of Klatch is within the Covenant at this time.

Regards,
Secretary I. Delgado

The dining room was empty bar the staff, who were clearing away a freshly-used plate and glass; Gerald was delicately shaking out one of the papers to remove flakes of a croissant. Debris of Paul, most likely, since Sir Edmund was taking breakfast in his room.

Handing the paper to another staffer, Gerald turned to face Caroline, his face a mask of polite enquiry.

There was no-one else visible.

*******

From: Secretariat of Ambassadorial Affairs, MEA (ooc: no worries, it's not like we tell anyone these things)
To: Offices of the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.
Subject: re: Mission Opening

Dear Mr. Secretary,

I have informed the appropriate areas regarding the placement of the actual Embassy site within the Diplomatic Precinct.

The Palace has informed me that the earliest time at which the Lady Ambassador may present her letter of Credence will be in three days' time; we apologise for any inconvenience.

I have been told by my Minister that your President is currently a guest of the Lord-President Foxworth; the Lady Ambassador will need to take a detour to Akmadar before journeying to Arn-Maciska.

Regards,

Baronet Julius Madarr
Secretary of State for Ambassadorial Affairs
Ministry of External Affairs

"Ah Gerald... Are you well?" Caroline enquired, looking up from her notepad for a moment, although her hand was still writing...

"Would it be possible for you to inform the Lord Foxforth as soon as possible that unfortunately Klatch finds itself in a State of War with Ilek-Vaad and that I would be hugely grateful if he could speak to me as soon as is convenient?" she sounded calm, as if this was some kind of minor annoyance rather than what promised to be a rather unpleasant war.

----------

To: Secretariat of Ambassadorial Affairs, MEA
From: Offices of the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.
Subject: re: re: Mission Opening

Dear Sir Julius Madarr,

The three day time frame will be met. We also feel it is our duty to inform you that Klatch finds itself in the unfortunate position of War with Ilek-Vaad. The Ambassador will in accordance from the moment of arrival to inquiries from both the political bodies of the Covenant as well as to the press.

Finally, the Federation wishes to request permission to dispatch an armed dirigible to collect the President.

Regards,
Secretary I. Delgado

"My lord is hale ma'am," Gerald replied gravely, "and we trust that you are too. Sir Edmund is in the imaging room. Right this way," he gestured for her to follow him, then led her down four or five corridors, ending in a set of double doors. A servant stood outside, and there was a whispered exchange in Ka'ani.

"We're to go right in," Gerald murmured, opening the doors for Caroline.

Though a light shone down over the entryway, the room was dark; Sir Edmund could dimly be seen standing on the right of a table. There were others, but they couldn't be made out.

Displayed on wall screens were five images, each with a similar theme; a woman in a high-collared dress, seated in a wood-panelled room (though one was a man in a Victorian suit). They were in a neat row on the far side, with the solitary male the second from the right.

The table before them was glowing; a flat image of Klatchia, shone towards the ceiling. To the left was displayed a satellite image of Karmayaka and Ilek-Vaad. The other side was dark.

A conversation was being carried on in Ka'ani, but switched to English; the speaker was the second from the left, a woman in a dark blue dress.

"... should be up with you now," she was saying. "Good morning Madam President."

An image popped into existence beneath her, a letter with an official Klatchian seal on it.

"What exactly does it say?" Foxworth asked; he was standing to the right. A figure suddenly appeared, silhouetted against the image.

"It's from Secretary Delgado," a clear, young, male voice replied. "Dear Sir Julius, The three day time frame..." he proceeded to read out the entire missive, and paused before adding "And it's quite clear he's never, ever, laid eyes on a map of Vårmidgard."

"Quite," Sir Edmund turned to face Caroline.

"Madam President," he said formally, "May I present, from your left to right, Dame Miranda Kavar, Secretary of State for Imperial Security-" the woman bowed her head and smiled "- Lady Justina Valdir, Minister for External Affairs -" "a pleasure," Valdir said, emulating Dame Miranda, "-The Lady Elgiva deMa'iska, First Minister of the United Imperial Kingdoms-" that one, who had been studying Caroline intently, merely murmured "Greetings", "- Alexis Vattyen, Counsellor to His Serene Majesty -" "Hi there!" Alexis, who looked Alexander's age, was all smiles "- and Countess Katerin Palir, Minister for Defence." The last one stood behind her desk and curtseyed. Foxworth paused a moment, then continued.

"We've just been looking at a message from your Secretary," he said. "And there's no way in God's Vårheim we'll let you traverse the distance from here to the intersects in a dirigible... The war will be over by the time you get there. If you want to go home, we'll fly you to Arn-Jaf'na, and they can collect you from there."

"If," Livia emerged from the shadows; her face was lit from below by the central table, "and that's a big if, if you trust such a slow-moving target to get you home safely. I'd prefer not to read an obituary in tomorrow's paper."

"If I were you," the unidentified young man said, "I'd give Delago a call; you need to know what each of your states is up to. And you can't wait for the blimp to get here."

*****
From: Secretariat of Ambassadorial Affairs, MEA
To: Offices of the President of the Federated Klatchian Coast.
Subject: re: Mission Opening

Dear Mr. Secretary,

The Office of the Minister has instructed me to advise you that we are currently liaising with the President as to the best way for her to return to the Federation.

We will keep you appraised, and will most likely arrange for a direct communications link; I imagine she has some questions that require an immediate answer.

Regards,

Baronet Julius Madarr
Secretary of State for Ambassadorial Affairs
Ministry of External Affairs

Caroline, the President of Klatch, followed Gerald. She had thought herself, one step ahead of the game, but apparently from the contents of the room, she wasn't, and they were asking questions about the dirigible...

"Greetings, esteemed Ministers and Concillor and of the most gracious, Sir and Lady Foxworth." she curtsied, playing for time for a few moments.

"If I might make a minor semantic correction..." she continued, still playing for time, "The Dyellians are in fact, I believe, sending a zeppelin, a rigid airship as you may call it. It has had certain modifications applied to it that are not typically associated with aircraft of it's type... although no doubt you are correct about Mr. Delgado's lack of knowledge of Geography. Perhaps transport to a closer location would be beneficial? I thank you for the suggestion."

"We have." she said after a brief pause, "Studied the Vaadian modus operandi, they tend to, while carrying out a somewhat uninspired and cautious effort in the field, focus their attention on the spread of propaganda as well as threatening the lives of key political leaders who oppose them."

"One can immediately see this confirmed in their latest effort." she continued, "Launching an EMP strike, assuming we will neglect to track incoming missiles while they are creating a fireworks display, then failing to capitalise on any advantage they had, and rather allowing us time to reinforce our defences."

"I would definitely value and appreciate being put through to Secretary Delgado, thank you. I would be most interested to hear what my counterparts in Vrak and Dyelli Beybi have said about this, although at the moment I would assume they have launched themselves into the war with gusto. They are not what one might call pacifist states."

"If it is possible." she added, "It would also be of considerable value were I to be able to make a televised address from here to the people of Klatch at this dark time."

From the looks of the five people on the wall, they knew exactly what the "semantic correction" was for, and weren't impressed.

The Defence Minister simply raised an eyebrow while the Klatchian viewpoint of Vaadian defence doctrine was explained; the other four simply stared ahead unblinking (Alexis' smile fading) while Livia vanished into the shadows.

As Caroline's voice faded, someone off-screen began speaking to Valdir; the sound was muted. A second later the same thing happened on the First Minister's screen.

Sir Edmund was murmuring to someone about setting up a call.

Palir leaned forward slightly. "Modified, I have no doubt, Madam President. It's probably one we sold you..." her voice bore an accent, noticeable on the r's, h's, and long vowels.

"Katerin," Alexis' head turned slightly, and a comment was made in Ka'ani. Palir at least did the courtesy of answering the counsellor's comment in English, but not a lot can be derived from the phrase "Yes. Quite."

Further discussion was forestalled as Alexis muted his own screen to look at another just to his left. The space around his mouth blurred when he spoke; in fact, it was doing it on the screens of the other two as well.

Foxworth came around the table.

"Madam President," he said, "we're setting up a secure call for you now," he held up a headset. "The vislink won't work, but you'll have full audio. I'd advise you not to say anything detrimental to your nation's security; we don't have a peace treaty or pact with you, and they," he titled his head back slightly, "have superb hearing..." Livia materialised by his elbow.

"Thomas is in a conference call with Alexander," she murmured, "And my dear," this to Caroline, "We can do a broadcast, but it won't be interactive."


*******

Meanwhile Delgado's office would be getting a call which ran something like "Good Morning. This is Jeyka from the Lord-President's Office in Arn-Arakhan. I have President Caroline ab Ieauf on the line to speak to Ser Delgado."

Caroline shook her head, "Not sold to me. Sold to Dyelli Beybi." she corrected Palir, but gently enough so as not to cause offense, "Dyelli Beybi has some unusual ideas from time to time."

When Foxworth appeared, she gave a slight smile and almost imperceptible nod to acknowledge the fact that she was already aware she wasn't necessarily with friends, "Thank you."

"And thank you." this to Livia, "I don't need interractive, I just need to send a message to the people of Klatch, at moments like these they need a President."

Delgado of course accepted the call... had the line been bugged then the whole conversation would have been heard, otherwise just the President's.

"Mister Delgado, how are you? How is the weather in Port Olympus?"

Raining Madam President. Raining hard.

"So tell me, the Dyellians seem keen to pick me up in one of those zepellins, although my hosts believe it to be a death trap." she was speaking fairly loudly, making no attempt to keep anything hidden.

Possibly, they've never actually tested one in combat. It could crash and burn as soon as someone flicks a match at it.

"So why all the 'it's safer' line?"

The Dyellians are insistent it is, and you know how pushy their High Commissioner is... Anyway, it's fitted with a State room with conference facilities, so you can talk all the way back to Port Olympus... and in any case, the Vaadians have no ability to send fighters to that part of the world.

"He is not a man one can generally rely upon for little more than provincial patriotism, but they are pivotal in keeping this institution upright. So we will go with them, as we would go with the Vrakians under similar circumstances."

Then it is agreed.

"It is agreed, I will see you back in Port Olympus soon, God willing. I will be making a broadcast soon."

Semper Klatchia

"Goodbye Mister Delgado."

"Please be aware that your calls may be monitored. This is for your protection," Palir commented dryly when the President had hung up; yes, they'd been listening, and the Defence Minister saw no reason to hide it.

The First Minister and Alexis were still both talking off-screen, but Valdir had returned.

"We'll be arranging a 'copter to collect you from the Foxworth Estate," she said, eyes flicking away from the screen from time to time, "And then a jet to Arn-Jaf'na. We can then have you transported via Covenant Air Diplomatique to Bruces and Shelias, the Alconian Western domains, or direct to Port Olympus... or you could take the dirigible," her tone made it very clear which option she would prefer Caroline chose.

"Since it'd be one of our diplomatic aircraft," Valdir continued, "you'd be guarded by diplomatic traditions, an Imperial Air Force escort, and our non-aggression pact with Ilek-Vaad," she smiled tightly; Palir nodded approval.

Foxworth, who had half-turned to listen, now swivelled back, and leaned forward.

"Traditions of hospitality," he whispered. "Unless you absolve them of all responsibility, preferably in writing, they'll take whatever action they deem is appropriate to have you home safely. It's an honour thing; tricky and sticky," he looked very grave.

"If you refuse," he warned, "make it utterly clear it isn't because you don't have faith in their ability to keep you safe, lest you insult them."

Caroline listened to the politicians speak, her face had aquired a mask-like quality, almost like what a poker player might wear. She nodded occasionally, but there was no indication as to whether this implied agreement or was merely out of politeness.

Foxworth's comment in the background, brought a slight curve to her mouth, a hint that under different circumnstances she might smile. She lowered her voice to a whisper audible only to him, "I'll bear that in mind my friend. Hopefully I won't tread on any toes..."

She raised her voice again to normal speaking volume, "Your offer is kind and very generous, however to transport me would be potentially damaging your neutrality in the eyes of the Vaadians, and I cannot allow that. Klatch values it's relations with the Commonwealth and respect's it's neutral stance. We would not want to see the Commonwealth drawn into an awkward position, on Klatch's account."

"I will take the Klatchian transport." she stated, "If there is any form of unfortunate accident, it will certainly be only Klatch to blame and certainly should not reflect poorly on the spotless reuptation of the Commonwealth."

Valdir's mouth opened, then shut at a curt syllable from the central figure. The First Minister had returned, and her voice rolled out in Ka'ani; the words rushed into each other, syllables tumbling together.

Abruptly the flow stopped, and the five figures on the wall regarded the Klatchian President owlishly, unblinking.

Livia melted back into the shadows; Sir Edmund nodded once, looking unhappy.

"You will be flown to Arn-Jaf'na," he said softly. "Your countrymen can collect you from there," he said. "We will arrange for press to be in attendance on the flight," he pursed his lips and paused. "You will need to sign a wavier excusing the Nations from any responsibility for your personal safety when you board your zepplin... and will also need to understand that we will formally opt for neutrality very shortly; we have a treaty to honour with Ilek-Vaad, and no desire to enter into conflict with the Federation."

His mouth shut abruptly as the First Minister stirred; her eyes found Caroline's. Though she looked only about ten years the Dyellian's senior, those eyes had seen far more winters than the face suggested.

"I have a question for you," the voice was spiced with the accent Palir (and Alexander) had. "President of the Federated Klatchian Coast. This war with the Vaadians; is the spilling of blood really what you want?"

"The position the Commonwealth will take is not unexpected to Klatch." she nodded, neither giving the impression it was a favourable nor an unfavourable stance.

"As for whether I, President elect of Klatch want this war. The simple answer is no. I am elected PResident of Klatch in order to safeguard it's citizens, it's States from this type of situation. The Federation was founded for this very purpose, to make wanton aggressors pause before declaring war."

"Klatch, however" she continued, "Will not back down this time. They walked out of peace talks with us, refused to speak to us further, then declared war on us. I do not believe for one moment that the Vaadians share this negative view of warfare, they have lied and manipulated to make Klatch appear the aggressors, but the truth is self evident; Ilek-Vaad is here to conquer. It is my belief that the future security of Klatch and the world can only be guaranteed by the absolute anihilation of the Vaadian State."

It was beligerent talk, delivered forcefully, but calmly, "That is my position regarding the war. It is not a State I would have wished for, and indeed is something I believe Klatch did it's utmost to prevent. However, if this 'spilling of blood', is concluded with the destruction of the Vaadian military and surrender of it's Government, then whatever the cost to Klatch might be, the benefits for future generations will be greater.

Whether the Klatchian President's answer impressed, disappointed, pleased, or displeased the First Minister, it was impossible to tell; the woman's eyes were like mirrors, and there was nowhere to hide.

"Ilek-Vaad is not Neo-Tyr," she stated dryly. "The cost will be high. Higher, perhaps, than you are willing to pay. Higher, perhaps, than you should pay," she paused a moment, then added "for both of you."

She withdrew her attention from the Klatchian, giving it to someone behind the camera's field of view.
"Sir Edmund, I will return in a moment. Please remain where you are," it wasn't quite a question, and it had barely the time to make it out before the First Minister's image vanished abruptly, replaced by a "Call holding" symbol. The other four murmured to eachother, then muted their screens.

Sir Edmund looked slightly shaken, and exchanged glances with Livia's silhouette.
"Your helicopter will be ready to depart in about ten minutes," he said. "We'll get someone to collect you..."

"Nevertheless." the Klatchian President replied, directing a level and intense gaze at the First Minister, "Klatch will do what it must to maintain it's freedom and it's way of life. If I am wrong, and I am prepared to admit to the eventuality that I may be, and Ilek-Vaad choses to negotiate, then we will negotiate."

"To quote from a politician of some note; if an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared."

"May we have a word in private before I leave Lord President?" she asked, quite formally, turning towards Edmund.

The last visible expression on the First's face was a smirk.

"Of course," Sir Edmund said, waving a hand; the open channels were put on hold, the monitoring screens dimmed, and small lights recessed into the ceiling switched on, compensating for the loss in illumination. As the walls were smooth and black, it only served to highlight the room's inhabitants, who had quickly vacated it; Livia closing the doors behind her.

"You know," the Lord President pinched the bridge of his nose, "I think she-" he indicated the First Minister's hold symbol "-might like you."

"One might wonder what she is doing." Caroline ab Ieuaf gave a wry smile, "Although to speculate without any real clues as to what I might be speculating about would be quite a futile exercise."

"I must apologise for this war." her tone had changed now she was speaking to Edmund again, it was more engaging and personal, the volume lowered to only carry to him. This was Caroline as opposed to the President of Klatch, "It did come at a bad moment, and the Vaadians lying through their teeth about the whole thing. Chekists planting bombs, everyone knows it was rebels from the D.B.A.T., they admitted it for crying out loud! Who knows what fascinating work of fiction they'll cook up next."

She sighed and shook her head, "I'm sorry to bring all this business into your house. It should stay on the outside."

OOC: Sorry about the delay DB, been slightly ill lately.
IC:
Sir Edmund titled his head.

"Well, "likes" might be too strong a word. She doesn't like anyone much, really..." he sighed tiredly. "She doesn't dislike you at least."

Sir Edmund listened seriously to Caroline's musings.

"Her Grace," he indicated the screen, "says that this dispute between the Federation and the Free Republic is a feud within the Klatchian Family of Nations, and it would be very bad manners to barge in. Her Grace has also stated that not everyone is as polite as we are, if you get my meaning," the old man looked very careworn at that moment.

"Our southern neighbours," he said, "are the heart of the Covenant; they are Macisikan proper after all. And they are undecided about Klatchia. Ilek-Vaad has been courting Arn-Maciska, that's no secret. But they see parallels between themselves and the Federation. And they can't make up their minds one way or another. Caroline," his tone was grave, "until they do, you can expect them to be scrupulously fair, zealous, even; and that sword cuts both ways."

Caroline nodded along, as Edmund spoke, there was a slight smile forming, "Please don't fret my friend."

"The truth is we, that being the Federation, don't mind what you do, so long as you don't support Ilek-Vaad." Caroline confided, "Our troops are of comparable calibre, our technology is better and our numbers are greater. Barring some kind of massive military disaster, we will win." she sounded confident.

"Personally I hate this war. It is pointless and abhorrent." she continued, "But if the Vaadians are intent on it, as President I will ensure we pursue it until their destruction."

"Now." she finished, "We have a Federal Ambassador to come in who will hopefully keep everyone here neutral. Things should be OK... when this whole silly business is over you and your family must come holiday in Port Olympus. My way of saying sorry for bringing a War into your house."

Sir Edmund's face, if anything, grew even more serious.

"I'll start fretting when the yukes stop arguing," he muttered. If they stop arguing he added in the privacy of his own head.

"Caroline," he said in a more audible volume. "From what Ser Seder, the Vaadian Ambassador, has been saying in Arn-Maciska, to any who will listen, the Free Republic isn't intent on war," he shook his head sadly. "Lady Valdir tells me that they genuinely believe that they have no other option. Fortunately the First is not convinced of that... which means that the yukes will bicker and argue until their attention is drawn by something else. Here, I'll give you some advice to pass on to your Ambassador. Remember what Alexander said last night? Don't really care but is keeping informed in case he has to? That's the First Minister's attitude. She really doesn't care that much one way or another. As long as she keeps thinking that way, she keeps enough of the Privy Council and Cabinet thinking that way, and the only thing you have to worry about is editorials and cartoons in the Times. And vilification by environmentalists as reams of paper are sacrificed to Hansard for the endless debates in various Parliament chambers," the last was delivered with a chuckle.

"Anyway, I'll talk to Livia about that visit. Young Alexis - it's a popular basing name, Alex, have you noticed? - he's been muttering dark things about the tourist experience in your city I'm afraid, something about stifling inefficiency at the airport," he frowned, "and wanton credit card fraud by the security desks..." the man shook his head at the last comment. He didn't quite believe that; it never happened in his country.

Caroline nodded in response, "Well the balance of evidence suggests otherwise, and soon we will have someone to point that out... Which reminds me, her flight must be coming in soon and I need to sign off on her Credentials before I head off back to Klatch."

She looked somewhat suprised at the talk of credit card fraud, "Is this Cyro or Port Olympus? I can imagine inefficiency in Cyro, my fellow Dyellians have embraced bureaucracy was great enthusiasm."

"You'd do better signing off on the Ambassador's credentials at your stopover in Arn-Jaf'na," he remarked off-handedly.

"Something about a security guild stealing credit card numbers," Foxworth frowned, trying to recall the Primarch's exact wording. "It was in Port Olympus, I know that... which probably why the city's on a blacklist; none of His Majesty's subjects, from any nation, may travel to that city unless they're diplomatic personnel," he shrugged.

"But that applies to over half the Federation; your homeland for one, it's classed as a potential conflict zone. Many other areas are seen as corrupt, or racist. That's why you don't see many Covenant tourists visiting Klatchia..." Brigands from the free cities don't count... he mentally added. "About eighteen maybe in the last eight months, I think. Counting the even dozen who visited Ilek-Vaad."

"All right then." a skewed smile forming on her face, "We shall see when we get home if we can't root out the problem."

"I'm guessing this flight to Arn-Jaf'na shall be here soon?" she sounded slightly anxoius, betraying the fact that she felt a certain responsibility to be in Klatch.

"I will sign her off then..." she paused, seemed about to say something, then didn't, looking a little deflated.

Sir Edmund nodded politely.

"Your 'copter should be prepped to take you to the airstrip," he answered her question calmly. "And by the time you get there, the jet will be ready."

His eyes noted her almost-voiced-thought, but further conversation was forestalled by a beep from the screen. The First Minister's secretary was pinging them.

"Well, it was nice to have you over Caroline," Sir Edmund said, and held up his right hand, palm outwards. "Safe journey and sunlight to you," he intoned.

"It was a pleasure to meet your family, especially your lovely wife." Caroline remarked politely, then gave him her hand, "Sir Edmund Foxworth, the truest gentleman I have ever met. I hope the next time we meet will be concluded more happily."

She glanced around the room as farewells concluded. While she had no doubt that her staff had packed things in her absence, right now she didn't really know where to go... She was hoping there was someone to show her where the helicopter was...

The older man smiled and kissed the back of the proffered hand.
"Madam President," was all he said in response.

Caroline worried too much. Foxworth clapped his hands, and the doors opened to admit several people. Behind him the First Minister's screen suddenly popped up to the centre of the wall; a text message said... something. The angular Ka'ani characters might as well have been blank for the meaning they conveyed to someone unfamliar with the language.

Gerald glided over to the President and bowed from the neck.
"Madam President, right this way," he held out a hand.

Livia and Paul were nowhere to be seen, and Alexander was a distantly suited figure vanishing down a corridor.

The 'copter ride to the nearby airstrip was nothing to write home about; on the plane several media representatives from a couple of independent foreign channels and a camera crew from the Covenant Media Group Network. They were more than happy to rebroadcast her conference. The CMGN logo in the bottom right-hand corner had nothing to do with it.

On approach to Arn-Jaf'na, she was informed that the dirigible would be available for bording about five minutes after her arrival, and that Someone was waiting to speak to her in the departure lounge. Somehow the steward managed to accentuate the upper-case "S".

[ooc; you posting the press thingy here, or in another thread, or doing both?]

OOC: I'll do some press stuff here...

"Lord President." she replied, and left it at that...

Once on the plane it seemed the President of Klatch wasn't ready to make a State of the Nation adress just yet, but was more than happy to answer any questions the reporters might have for her on the flight. Which was a media coup in itself, first people to interview the Klatchian President after the declaration of war from Ilek-Vaad...

Once at the other end she gave the steward a smile, both her eyebrows raising, "Ah, thank you Ser" inwardly she cringed, probably getting the form of address all wrong, "Is it the Klatchian Ambassador? Or is it perhaps someone local?"

OOC: We never RPed them arriving, but I assume the Klatchian Ambassador is here and waiting :P

OOC: I figured as much. After all, an armed/armoured dirigible wouldn't be the most unusual thing the Arn-Jaf'na air traffic controllers have hosted (and yours wouldn't be the first).

IC:
The protocol officers were far too polite to point out the President's misstep.

"Your Ambassador will be along shortly Madam President," was the reply, "The One who will speak with you, he is... local."

The first impression of Arn-Jaf'na airport invariably was that it was very clean. Mostly white, relieved by slashes of grey, occasional muted greens and blues, and chrome. The second impression was that it had the cold, sterile air of a hospital. The area where the Klatchians were was utterly empty except for their escorts, and, every few metres, a narrow-eyed, stony-jawed man or woman whose eyes missed nothing; the departure lounge they were funnelled into held around a dozen of them.

"Someone" turned out to be a handsome youth flitting between three assistants in a blur of hyperactivity. In the rare moments he stood still, the trademarked white skin and brilliant green eyes of the Macisikani nobility were seen. Unlike the others though, his hair wasn't a few inches long, auburn, and brushed neatly, but cropped short, spiked, and an electric blue. There was a resemblance to Alexander, but this younger cousin? Brother? was built on more delicate lines; far slighter than the other.

"President the Baroness Caroline ab Ieuaf of the Federated Klatchian Coast," the protocol officer announced - the boy didn't even look up, "Madam President, His Royal Highness, the Prince Thomas Da-" there was a dark glare from the youth and the officer gulped in the middle of the word "- ah, deMakra."

"Good, you're here," the boy was momentarily leaning over a thick ledger, signing off on something. "We have to keep this quick, I have two inspections, a security briefing, and a budget briefing to do by eleven, and all this with my working champagne breakfast with Mattias bloody Valdir still floating about here," he abruptly materialised in front of the President; hard green eyes gazed out from features that were young, and very striking. Something about his bearing said that he wasn't inclined to shake her hand, let alone kiss the back of it. Not that he was hostile - he just didn't have the time.

"Madam President, glorified errand boy that I am, I have this-" he indicated a book wrapped in brown paper "- and a message for you, from Ed." he held up an envelope, then slipped it into the string that bound the wrappings. The package was presented by an intern, who bowed.

**********

The book, when she opened it, would turn out to be a history of the last four centuries of the Covenant. A rather bloody tale of a constant battle for survival, wars of conquest, and the near-total genocide of non-human races. A card inside said that it was from Alexander.

The letter was from Foxworth; it simply said that, for Port Olympus to become a truly serious international player, it would need to do three things. Firstly consolidate the foreign affairs powers, secondly establish a clear chain of command over those powers, and thirdly re-create and maintian the standing army. A standing army that answered to the President, not the States. The Lord-President felt that this would provide a more unified Klatch.

The President just went with the flow, wearing a slightly bemused smile as she was greeted with a whirlwind of a young man, "Good day, your highness." she replied in greeting, for lack of anything better to say.

She wouldn't open the packages until later, but accepted them for now with a gracious nod, "Thank you for talking the time out of your obviously busy schedule to deliver these. And if you would be so kind as to relay my thanks onto whomever sent this package."

Later on she would open them both. The letter would provoke a grin that implied the President had thought up a very cunning plan indeed...

The President's reaction was actually better than most. Most people meeting Prince Thomas entered a mental state simliar to that experienced by a duckling with a mild concussion.

"I'll pass on your thanks to my brother," the youth said with a nod. An aide whispered in his ear.

"Yes, quite," he regarded her for a moment, then turned away. "Safe journey home Madam President," he departed in another flurry of activity; bare moments after he left through one door, a courier arrived through another, advising the President that the dirigible was now ready for boarding.

Caroline wondered what the 'yes quite' was in aid of, but didn't inquire, "All the best to you your Highness." she replied respectfully.

The new Ambassador was hovering around by the gang plank into the zepellin. It had two gun turrets underneath, big turrets... broadside cannons and a bomb hatch. It was clearly designed for military use.

"Morning Madam President." she curtsied.

She was young, probably about the same age as the President, auburn hair, which was unusual in a Dyellian, dark eyes and a pleasant, round face, "You must be Claudia Black... Home Office?"

"Yes Ma'am." she nodded in response, handing over the letters of credential. She had opted for what seemed to be pretty standard business atire for Dyelli Beybian women, grey medium length skirt, white blouse, grey jacket.

"Excellent." Caroline didn't take the time to read them, just signed them at the bottom and handed them back, "I take it ex-Cheka. CSD-1?"

"Correct." the new Ambassador nodded.

"Excellent, so you are actually a trained diplomat and we didn't just grab a desk jockey." Caroline grinned broadly, "You'll do great, now go out there and get talking to the media."

"Thank you Ma'am." she had a pleasant smile, "I will do my best."

"Which I know will be great, I'm expecting big things from you Claudia. Farewell... and don't think you're getting away from me, when you ring through to Port Olympus you will be speaking to me personally, you are right now one of the most vital assetts of the Federation." it was pronounced with a smile, softening any blow.

"So be it Ma'am. Farewell. God is great."

"God is great." the President responded formally, "Allahu Akbar min kulli shay."

Once onboard she opened both the letter and the book. Setting the book aside for on-flight reading she first read the letter. Were Edmund there he would see it bring a smile to the President's face. She had a plan...

Meanwhile Ambassador Black, now armed with credentials set off to find out where she was staying and how she could put a media conference together in this strange city...

Strange city indeed.

A twisted labyrinth of slate-grey, interspersed with towers, winding tubes, and domes. It varied between sterile, and forbidding, and it stretched to a hazy horizon. Occasional slashes of green were all that broke the cityscape. The effect was a great hybrid between a city, an airport/seaport, a massive post-modern military base, and a mideaval citadel. Overhead, military helicopters circled like vultures. Although commercial planes seemed to be few and far between, a fair share of dirigibles were present; unlike the Klatchian airship, these ones were clearly passenger liners.

Out to sea, the direction of travel, an inpenetrable grey haze hung heavily; hundreds of ships, and the vast majority of the planes, vanished into it on their way out, or emerged from it on their way in. A small battlegroup rode at anchor, maybe on their way out, maybe on their way in. Every now and again one could see the low, dark silhouette of a submarine slipping through the water.

They found themselves being kept company by an Imperial fighter squadron, Air Traffic Control said that they were an "honour guard" and were not optional; the company stayed with them until the air cleared again, when they peeled off and vanished in the direction of the City.

*****

The Ambassador would have found it impossible to put a media conference together anywhere in Arn-Jaf'na; as one of the MEA's ubiquitous protocol officers explained, Imperial Edict forbade any such activity in the Port of the Covenant. Her Excellency would also not be accomodated here, nor anywhere in the Crown Province; a plane was booked to take her to Arn-Maciska, to present her credentials to the Court of Light, and take up residency in the Embassy of the Federated Klatchian Coast.

The huge mass of the zepellin slipped quietly out to sea. There was no demand made to send the fighters away.

Like many zepellins, the interior of the cylinder was a network of gangplanks and staircases, mostly to give the engineeers access to the fragile interior bags. The whole lower portion of the cylinder was cabin space, with the gondola made up of gun platforms, magazines and the bridge. The President had been found a large State room somewhere near the tail. She assumed it was usually reserved for an Admiral. Someone had taken the time to drape a Klatchian hydra banner over something circular on the back wall, which she assumed was an emblem of the Tzarina.

Towards the back of the room was a large kauri desk. It had a computer mounted on it, which with the manipulation of a few buttons could fold down, the back of the screen fitting smoothly and giving the appearance of one solid piece of furniture. At the moment though the wood backed LCD display was flicked up, "Stupid Vaadians." she muttered to herself, shaking her head.

They were so, so... stupid. It was the only word for it, and their capacity to blame Dyellians for everything that went wrong in the world was breathtaking. Someone calling themselves an Emperor had tried to kill a Vaadian Lord, therefore it must be the deposed Dyellian dictator, therefore the Tzarina who overthrew said Dictator was possibly in league. The non-sensical leaps of logic were so depressing. She would write a response though, and it would be polite, so the touchy little snots didn't get their panties in a twist again.

----------

"Well that's grand." she shrugged, seeming quite a laid back type.

"Frankly." she explained to the protocol Officer, "I have been rushed over here, and my briefing has not been as in depth as it should be. Is there any chance I can apply or request somewhere for a permanently allocated protocol officer?"

Thomas took a moment to send off a message to Sir Edmund that the President had the note and the book. He knew the contents of both, and wasn't worried. President ab Ieauf seemed a strong woman, but the Klatchian Parliament was recalcitrant at the best of times. Which reminds him... busy, busy, busy.

*****

The protocol officer smiled as he escorted her to her plane.
"Secretariat of State for Ambassadorial Affairs is where your excellency shall need to direct your enquiries; they handle the needs of all foreign diplomatic missions within the Covenant, and can forward your request to the Office of Protocol. One of our number will be assigned when you present your credentials to His Serene Majesty or His Serene Majesty's representative, but such assignments are temporary most of the time. Your plane is right here, excellency."

The plane in question was actually the same one that had ferried the President to Arn-Jaf'na. The Akmadari Government wanted to have it back, and was happy for the MEA to use it to ferry the Klatchian Ambassador (and any of her staff) to Arn-Maciska before coming home.

The new Ambassador didn't appear to have any staff yet. Presumably some others would appear sooner or later as well as a number of locals being hired, "Oh wow." she commented, looking quite suprised at being led out to a jet, "Now that is a bit more impressive than 'business class'."

"Thank you for your help." she spoke to the protocol officer before leaving, insisting on shaking his hand, "I can only hope whoever I might meet at the other end of this journey is similarly helpful. Thank you again."

"Now I just have one last question..." she paused, just before getting in, "When I get to Arn-Maciska am I allowed to do a press conference or something like that, also is there any facility for me to ring ahead to news papers and so on to let them know I'm ready to talk to them if they're interested?"

She grinned, shaking her head, "Sorry, last one I promise, what is the timetable for me presenting my credentials? I'm wondering if I can sneak in a chat with the press before, also if that would be extremely bad etiquette and if I should rather wait to present my letter."

She waited for the answer, before this time giving a stiff curtsey (the skirt was a little tight for a propper one), "Farewall, and thank you again."

She left, seemingly in quite a hurry to get things moving. Anyone who had watched both her and the recently departed President would notice Dyellians tended to be self effacing, at least in situations where people were treating them politely...

The protocol officer didn't so much as twitch, although the hand-shaking made him blink.

His head tilted to the side as he considered the answers.

"When you arrive in Arn-Maciska you will be received by one of my counterparts assigned to SSAA," he pronounced it say, "You are at liberty to hold a press conference in Arn-Maciska, though not within the airport, and are permitted to contact CMGN directly, or the MEA Office of Public Relations to ask for such arrangements... the actual response will depend on the time we arrive in Arn-Maciska; we have a fair journey, with a stopover in Takuliyet," he paused again to consider the matter of credential-presenting.

"Stonebridge will determine the time at which you shall present your credentials," he said, "as that is handled exclusively by the Palace, I can not answer definitively about it," that seemed to be the final word on the matter.

The protocol officer bowed, from the neck, and murmured, "Your Excellency," as she departed.

For the Dyellians, perhaps Imperial manners reached unusual levels of courtesy. For those born in the Covenant, such manners were a matter of course; these were nations where the rude were liable to be run through.

There was a shudder as the plane took off; it was a long journey to Arn-Maciska, and they would arrive shortly after 8pm, local time. SSAA escorts and cars were waiting patiently to collect the Ambassador.

OOC: Does your Embassy actually exist? I have a dim recollection of it actually being built, but with no-one having moved in...

Which seemed to settle matters. Once onboard the Ambassador would do a quick check for an onboard phone and ask for directions as to phone numbers (or a phone book) with which she could call Stonebridge (which she presumed was the name of some office) to ask what time would be convenient for her to deliver her letter, and then the CMGN.

The Dyellians were an unusual people, frequently obsequious they placed a huge value on modesty, however that usually masked the fact that they very definitely had their own goals and objectives. Right now for Claudia Black that was getting herself in print or on television as quickly as possible.

During the days of the last Republic, the Cheka had made a point of recruiting any attractive young woman of middling to above average intelligence for work as 'politicals' in CSD-1. It had been scientifically proven that both men and women prefered to look at women, marketers had known this for years, but the Dyellians had taken it a step further and recruited an intelligence/diplomacy office that was very 'easy on the eye'. The Home Office was qhat had once been CSD-1, a general diplomatic liason office that dealt with foreign diplomats, much like the liason officers in the Port of the Covenant. They also carried out investigations into National Security and usually had fairly high Intelligence clearance. The Government of Macisikan would know this. They would also know that the Home Office didn't train it's employees as overseas diplomats, but CSD-1 had, and Claudia Black was ex CSD-1.

The Imperial government was quite aware of the reasoning behind selecting personnel with the particular physical attributes possessed by many CSD-1 ex-members. They were neither influenced, nor impressed.

A very startled steward summoned the same protocol officer who had been with the Ambassador at the terminal, and explained the situation in rapid Ka'ani.

"Ah, yes, I see," the other said with a smile, "Your Excellency, forgive the instruction, but you do not call the Imperial Palace at Stonebridge. The Ministry will alert them to your arrival, and, when they are ready and willing, they will call you," he pursed his lips and tried to be as delicate as possible. "In a nutshell, your initiative will be appreciated. Your presumption, most certainly, will not."

CMGN, however, was happy to arrange for several of their members' television networks to be outside the terminal to take a press conference. The government stations were also happy to pass on the message to private affiliates of the group.

OOC: I would have thought the Cheka's little mind games would have been more likely to distinctly unimpress most people ;)

The Ambassador gave the protocol officer a considering look, "Thank you." she sounded relieved if anything, "Sit down please. You are very literally my lifeline here, so please sit, I need your help to nut out all my little protocol issues before they arise and I end up putting my foot in it. If I explain to you what I want to do, can you tell me how to do it without upsetting anyone?"

OOC: lol, actually we'd be more surprised if the Cheka didn't pull something like that off... I was actually thinking your people were showing restraint...

IC:
The reply was delivered as the officer sat.

"As long as you understand that the advice I give you is not given in any sort of official capacity or with any guarantee; I'm not assigned to you, so according to regulations, I can't advise you. I can do so in my capacity as a private citizen though." he shrugged. "Just making you aware that, although practically there's no difference, legally you have no guarantees."

He waited a moment for her to respond, then asked "So, what do you want to know first?"

The steward seemed to be melting with relief; the people at Stonebridge were known to be indiscriminate with their annoyance.

The Ambassador's eyebrows shot up, she seemed to be supressing a smile, "Don't worry I don't intend to sue you if something goes wrong. I just really need your help. Would you like to sit with me for a while and help me work this out?"

"Basically" Black leaned forward, steepling her fingers, "I want a press conference and I want to deliver my credentials. How do I go about doing this without upsetting anyone in the process? Also while I'm at it, what are the correct terms to adress the people I am likely to encounter? that includes you by the way."

"You can arrange your press conference simply by calling the stations start off with UCMG - the United Covenant Media Group, they changed their name last week, they include the government broadcasters, papers, and the largest media outlets," he produced a notebook and scribbled something down; the page was torn off and handed to the Ambassador.

"That's the contact number you'll need. Any operator can assist," the notebook disappeared into his suit.

"Now, as for your credentials, the answer is that you wait. When the Palace wants you to present them, they will call you, and not before. If you try to press the issue, you'll set foot in Stonebridge Palace sometime after the next Emperor is crowned," he shrugged. "the Ministry has already told them you're here, and they'll call you to arrange your audience. Which leads to forms of address. It literally depends on what he's wearing; the correct way to address His Serene Majesty varies according to the capacity he is acting in. However, "Your Serene Majesty" is a safe bet. Regarding everyone else, it depends on occasion and location. "My lord" or "My lady" is the safest for the nobility, "Ser" and "Sera" for most others."

He paused to clear his throat; a steward supplied a glass of water.

"I am a civil servant. Therefore I am Ser Granzia," he said after a sip. "All M.P.'s not peers, barristers and above, and Civil Servants are correctly addressed as either "Ser" or "Sera". If I was a bus driver, the correct address is "Mr." - "Ser" would be viewed as being very polite, almost formal."

He sighed and set his glass down.

"You are an Ambassador; Excellency is your form of address. The best piece of advice I can give you is that when my counterparts in Stonebridge off you an earpiece, say yes."

"Ah excellent, that will be most helpful Ser." the Ambassador slipped the piece of paper into a breast pocket as she experimented with the form of address.

"So not the Honourable? How refreshing." she remarked on the address for Members of Parliament. It was probably a joke, but she managed to deliver it with a poker faced expression that disguised any possible intent.

"I will certainly take all your advice to heart Ser, thank you."

Granzia smiled tightly; the sort of smile that wants to turn into a wince.

"Oh, I never said that. "The Honourable" is the style for States-General Delegates; the Daíl styles of address vary according to which one of the three houses of the UIK Parliament the member sits in. And the Ministers each have their own form. As does each grade of the peerage, the tribal nobility, the honour peers, and the Clergy..." the smile was more genuine this time.

"Like I said; My Lord/Lady is safest, anything else will most likely result in an insult," he seemed to consider something. "Some people are more easy-going than others, others have rigid standards of propriety. There is variance."

The Ambassador reclined back in her chair lacing her fingers together behind her head, "So where do I stand with you? Is M'Lord more appropriate? Call it curiosity."

"By the way, when are we landing?"

"Ser is fine, I am not a noble," Granzia answered, "and in about fourteen or fifteen hours. At least," he shook his head. "There's a reason that the in-flight movie is the extended edition of the Lord of The Rings trilogy. The whole trilogy."

He shifted himself slightly in his chair.

"When you arrive some of my counterparts in the MEA will be waiting to whisk you away; your Embassy, as I understand, isn't quite finished yet*, but they'll have made arrangements," he drummed his fingers on his knees, as if he couldn't quite remember something.

"Is there someone in particular you are wanting to meet?" his tone was curious.

*OOC: I don't remember if you built the thing or not; Granzia could be wrong on this point.

OOC: No I seem to recall not having put as much thought into that as I should have :P We'll call it unfinished.

"Not really." the Ambassador shook her head, "I have instructions from the President to get on TV as quickly as possible, basucally get myself known. I'm hoping you can tell me the best way to go about doing that without ruffling any feathers?"

"I might try to nap after. Didn't get much sleep on the way over here." she confessed, "Way too much stuff to do, although things seem to have calmed down a bit now."

ooc: okey-dokey!

IC:
Granzia pursed his lips, then summoned a steward. There was a short exchange in some language, French maybe? and the steward departed.

"I'm getting you some contact details. It'll all be in your New Ambassador's package, but basically, you want a Sakenese consultant. They specialise in telling you how to talk to use, and are less constrained by professional obligation than we are."

Or, rather, they were less stiff-necked and uptight than their Macisikani overlords. But Granzia wouldn't say that of course.

The steward returned with what looked like a handwritten call sheet; the Protocol Officer indicated the Ambassador, and the sheet was presented to her.

"Just a few to get you started..."
The names on the list all had a distinctly Scandinavian flavour to them.

"Thank you very much." Black smiled sweetly, "So the people on this sheet are reporters and such?" she confirmed.

"By the way you've been really helpful." she added, "Really I'd be completely out of my depth if it wasn't for the fact that you've been helping me along. You reckon one of these Sakenese consultants can keep doing that? There isn't one listed on here is there?"

"Excellency, the majority are Sakenese consultants, above the line; the leading outlets are below," he answered gently. "You will get a more comprehensive list when we land."

ooc: bump? (oh, and just so you know; they have about a 12 hour flight ahead of them)

OOC: Sorry just noticed you'd replied :P

The Ambassador would try over the next few hours to engage a consultant over the phone, then sleep. She slept the deep sleep of the truly exhausted, only waking as the plane began to make it's descent (which made her ears go 'pop').

The landing was smooth, gentle, and didn't even manage to wake some of the staffers.

The ambassador was received in the terminal by a small cohort of SSAA staffers, led by a duo of protocol officers who introduced themselves as Stepan and Alexandra; a blond-haired, blue-eyed pair of fraternal twins in their early thirties. Granzia and the other Akmdari staffers had remained on the plane.

The two had offered shallow bows from the waist and welcomed her with a murmured "Excellency" and a smile. The scent of coffee hung heavily in the air, which was otherwise filled with the gentle purr of airconditioning motors and echoes. The majority of the terminal was dark and empty; the reason was supplied by the clocks on the wall which displayed "03:17". Despite that, Alexandra explained, there was a small press pool waiting just inside the building, here to cover the arrival of a new Ambassador.

"The first Ambassador from the Federation to another nation, if my memory serves," Stepan interjected.

"They're mainly here for photos, but there are a couple who will take a statement or release," Alexandra resumed, "Ah, there they are now."

Standing respectfully behind a red velvet rope the pool raised cameras and started to take shots; two of them were clutching notebooks, but didn't yell with questions or try to crowd close. Here, that sort of behaviour was considered rude and disrespectful towards new arrivals.

Stepan indicated the notebook-bearers. "If you wish to issue a statement, they will take it."

"You know what." the Ambassador seemed momentarily taken aback, "I believe you are right. Dyelli Beybi has had Ambassadors, but not Klatch. I didn't put two and two together until just now... It's a pleasure to meet you both, a genuine pleasure."

She seemed vaguely suprised at the restraint of the press, but smiled and waved acknowledgement in a dignified way. She stopped here, pausing to count the press officials in her head, again suprised she was not being blasted with questions, "I must confess." she began conversationally, "That I have not prepared anything monumental to say. I understand I am the first Federal Ambassador in the world, and I hope that I will be able to serve Klatch well in a manner which will bring your great Nation closer to my own."

A brief pause, "I saw a clock a few moments ago, I'm guessing it's about twenty past three, a time I am sure you would much rather be sleeping. I commend your dedication in coming out here at this time of the morning. The least I can do is to take the time to answer any questions you might have. Do you have any questions?"

Stepan merely smiled, as if he knew something the Ambassador did not. Alexandra looked distracted.

One of the notebook carriers raised her hand.

"Jenna, CTN Excellency. Just two; first, is this your excellency's first visit to the Covenant? And second, what is your first priority here in the Covenant?"

The other waited politely for Jenna's questions to be answered, then raised his hand.

"Marcus, ITN Excellency. Just one question; do you have any comment on the situation in Klatchia? Between Ilek-Vaad and the Federation?"

There weren't any follow-ups, and the press pool dispersed rapidly when the last photo was taken.

"You're new. They were being nice," Stepan murmured. "No follow-ups, no questions on your personal views, just allowances for bland generic statements. And they didn't ask you why you're on your own."

"And if you look over your shoulder, you'll see that the cameras are still there," Alexandra added. "They like to snap departure pictures."

A long black limousine was waiting for them.

"This is indeed my first visit to the Covenant." the new Ambassador confirmed, "Although this Nation is a place of great interest to me, in a personal capacity as well as in the role I have been assigned."

She paused between answers, cutting them up into neat sound bites, "My first priority is going to be the establishment of an embassy. While I don't have a specific 'mission', my prescence here is due entirely to the Federation's desire to create better relations with the Covenant."

Another pause as she turned to address the second reporter, smiling pleasantly, her eyes locking on the appropriate camera, "It is our belief in the Federation that a peaceful resolution to the standoff is possible. This is reliant on both parties setting aside their pride and coming to the table with honest intentions. Something we do not feel has necessarily always been the case."

She waited as the crowds dispersed, then grimaced slightly as Stepan mentioned the reporters being nice, "I wish they wouldn't. I want to know what the feeling is about Klatch, about Ilek-Vaad, and about me of course."

Alexandra's mouth quirked in a sort of facial shrug while her brother held the door open for the Ambassador to get in
"The Fourth Estate has its own mind," she said, climbing in the other side. It wasn't clear if she found that fact annoying or not.

"We'll be going to Embassy House in the Diplomatic Precinct," Stepan took over, all business. The two seated themselves opposite the Ambassador, and produced a series of dossiers, seemingly from thin air.

Embassy House, Stepan explained, was an interlinked complex of hotels and office blocks in the heart of the Diplomatic Precinct. At some point in time Valdir had decided that diplomats from nations without Embassies, and Embassies without compounds, needed to be put somewhere while they negotiated or the compounds were built (the Covenant didn't maintain any pre-built embassies for other nations to move into; just vacant lots). Architects would want to talk to the Klatchian staff about building a permanent compound, and about selecting a site.

Alexandra took over, handing the Ambassador a rather thick dossier; it was titled "Essentials" contained relevant local laws and restrictions (such as the minimum drinking age), contact details for emergency services (000 for emergencies, other numbers as listed), city services (Gas, lighting, water, communications, electricity), and the Ministry of External Affairs (ranging from the Minister's Office to the 24-hour information line), and relevant protocol sheets.

"It's the blue one," said Stepan interjected, "that's most important; for when you present your credentials to the High King, and for any subsequent meetings with the Royal Family. They'll probably call you tomorrow to discuss particulars."

The second dossier bore the label "Mission-Building". It was the thinnest of the lot, and held the basic guidelines for Embassy construction, contact numbers and star ratings for construction companies, as well as a step-by-step how-to for expanding the Klatchian mission to include consulates in major cities and other Covenant domains, as well as for expanding to include missions from the individual nations of the Federation.

A third sheaf was then handed over; entitled "Living in the Capital", it listed popular haunts for diplomats in Arn-Maciska, clubs, pubs, bars, restaurants, cafés, and theatres. There was also a TV channel guide, and a list of popular magazines, papers, and so on, along with subscription information. A glossy full-colour tourism guide was included. A folder, bearing the slogan "Is it locked?" and distributed by the CitySafety Community Group detailed a list of contacts in case of crime or harassment (Ethnic Liaison officer on this number, Gay/Lesbian Liaison on that one, Women's Liaison on this one, Men's Liaison on another, and so on). A list of local schools suitable for diplomat's children was included, along with the guidelines for applying for a job (in case any of the staffers or their families wanted to get themselves a job in the city and not be deported for breaching visa conditions) It also contained a phrase list, and local terminology. A healthy selection of vouchers and membership cards was in the back. It was by far the thickest of the three.

"I recommend Sally's if you're on the run," Alexandra said, "Best snacks between the DC and Greenmotte." (which, the dossier said, meant the Houses of Parliament).

"But you can try any cafe in Victoria VII Square," Stepan said, "V7, if you have time to sit down and don't mind a slight detour."

A pair of cloth bags (courtesy of "Greening Great Mascaan", a province-wide community initiative) were provided to hold it all.

The siblings finally ran out of paper and breath in the lobby of the hotel, wound down by asking if there were any questions, or would the Klatchian Ambassador like to be left alone to settle in, maybe catch up on sleep?

ooc: Boxing Day poke & bump :D

OOC: Lol.. sorry I tend to have a LIFO system of replying to posts :P

"No, thank you." the Ambassador replied, seemingly having just tried to take in more information than she could possibly hope to remember, "I think I'll check in and get some rest." and read this dossier.

"Thank you very much for your help, it is greatly appreciated." she added, "I think I have my watch still on Dyellian time, what is the time here?"

OOC: No worries at all. Hope you had a merry christmas!

"About ten to four," Alexandra replied. "The hotel will start serving breakfast from six. Incidentally, you have internet access and phone from your room. The night staff are available if you require assistance."

"Have a good rest sera," Stepan said with a smile. "We'll be readily available from 8:30, and one of us will be back here from 9 if you need us. Core business hours are from 10 to 3 in most areas, but in the hotter climes and months we will often break for siesta."

"If you require our direct assistance simply have the Concierge call us; the department has made arrangements," Alexandra finished with a smile of her own.

They bowed and took their leave.

The Ambassador nodded, "I doubt I'll need anything before then, thank you. Business hours seem quite short, compared to home. No matter. I will see you in the morning, thank you both very much for your help."

In fact the only thing the Ambassador did before turning in for the evening was organise for a copy of the respectable local newspapers to be delivered to her room. She'd spend the next morning before going to meet Stephan and Alexandra at 9, flicking through them to see if there were any news stories that might impact on Klatch or any of it's States, and more importantly to see if she had been mentioned at all.

The papers were delivered to the room by a polite youth who explained that a continental breakfast was being served in the restaurant downstairs, or if her excellency preferred to select from this menu, room service could be arranged. The papers were all in English; the Arn-Maciska Times, the Imperial Star, the Maciska Herald, the Financial Herald, and the Wien Daily Herald (a Wisjersian paper). There was also a copy of Time Magazine.

The Ambassador was mentioned in the first three papers; a small box stating that the new Ambassador for the Federated Klatchian Coast had arrived early that morning. They mentioned that she was looking to further relations, and talked favourably about her hopes for a peaceful outcome to "the Vaadian Situation". The Maciska Herald made a note of the increasing attraction of Ilek-Vaad as a travel destination (especially given the MEA's recent green-lighting of it in their travel advisories (http://www.freewebs.com/macisikan/advisory.html) - the only part of Klatchia, in fact), and reminded everyone to check the government travel advisories religiously. The Financial Herald had an editorial mentioning that the continued shortfall in cheap terrestrial titanium was an irritant.

It was Alexandra who was waiting patiently in the foyer at nine, sipping something noxiously caffeinated. Her brother was nowhere to be seen.

(ooc: *pokes the thread*)

OOC: My extreme apologies for my continued poor posting record. Life has been a bit crazy over the last few weeks.

The Ambassador was very precise about timing, emerging exactly at 9:00. While usually quite laid back, the Dyellians had a thing about punctuality. They were never early and very rarely late.

"How are you this morning?" she asked cheerfully (having been informed by someone that asking after someone's health was regarded as polite here), "Hear Ilek-Vaad got a green travel advisory light. Hope the terrorism doesn't pick up there again."

The comment was pure mischief, but delivered in such an offhand way that it would be impossible to accuse Claudia Black of spreading gossip. Anyway it was true, there had been terrorism... albeit orchestrated by rogue Dyellian elements.

"So." she smiled, "I'm not quite certain what the procedure is, do I need to find things to do for myself or is that already organised... by the way, anywhere around here I can snatch a muffin or something for breakfast?"

OOC: it's no problem; I've known that feeling too, and you've been patient with me when I'm bogged down.

IC:
Alexandra, with several years in the Protocol Office under her designer belt, did not rise to the bait, merely murmuring that "The Secretariat considers the security situation most carefully, and assigns the level they feel appropriate." She tactfully did not point out that the capital of Klatch was classed as "Avoid Non-Essential Travel".

"Good morning Excellency," she said in a normal speaking voice, "I am well, and I trust that you are rested well this morning?"

She took a sip of her drink, not deigning to notice the fumes.

"Breakfast is at the hotel restaurant," she continued, "And they offer a full spread, it is right this way. Now, you have an appointment at eleven with a senior partner from the Grand New Trondheim Partners, a Sakenese consulting firm. They will no doubt ask you a number of questions, which I cannot discuss as it is in confidence. A protocol officer from the Palace will be in this afternoon, at two, to confirm your appointment to present your credentials; I took the liberty of asking them to arrange the earliest possible spot for you. Beyond that, you will need to make your own arrangements, although the firm your Ministry contracted to construct your Embassy wishes to meet with you to arrange a site inspection and present their progress to you. Imperial Security wants to discuss your requirements. Other members of Ambassadorial Affairs wish to brief you on arranging your transport arrangements, and so on, including finding out when your staff will arrive. None of these agencies currently has an appointment."

ooc: *prod*, because I'm annoying like this.

OOC: Sorry for the prolonged and continued absence from the forums. My apologies for the poor writing in this, it's quite late, but I wanted to get a reply off to keep this thread moving.

"G'Morning." the Ambassador replied brightly, "I am quite well, thank you for asking."

"Sounds like I have a busy morning." she remarked as se was guided towards breakfast, "That is good, good for the jet lag to keep busy I've heard."

Dyellians inevitably seemed to eat light, and the Ambassador for the Federation was no exception (In fact, were a scientist to run tests, they would find numerous unusual features of the Dyellian digestive tract that made them subtlely different from the average human). In short order she was ready and eager to take on the say.

The Ambassador would quickly find that breakfast in the Covenant was a light meal, and Alexandra absolutely refused to discuss business over the meal. In fact, none of the various people in the restaurant discussed business; it was all small talk, about the weather, sports matches, celebrities and so on.

Once it was concluded, Alexandra ushered the Ambassador into a warmly-lit conference room, inlaid with sandalwood and dominated by a handsome table of the same material. Windows provided a view of the leafy suburb that was the Diplomatic Precinct. She tactfully withdrew as the Partner arrived.

The consultant from Grand New Trondheim Partners turned out to be a very tall woman in a suit and skirt ensemble. White hair pulled away from an ageless face into a severe bun, and a no-nonsense set to her mouth.

She introduced herself as Astrid Hofstadler and, after the initial pleasantries, launched into her questions, "to determine client needs."

"Firstly, prior knowledge," Astrid had pen and paper to take notes, but didn't touch either as she spoke. "What do you and your people already know about the Covenant and its peoples?"

OOC: Sorry about my prolonged absence, I have had a lot of annoying personal stuff coming up.

"More or less nothing." the Ambassador responded. This wasn't exactly true, but it was better for her to get information from a firsthand source rather than relying on the 'Big-Cheka bumper book: Foreign parts and how to avoid them', or any of the other sources of probably unreliable information.

ooc: don't worry about it; it happens.
IC:
Hofstadler arched an elegant eyebrow and smiled slightly.

"Lady Valdir will be pleased," she said with a slight shake of her head. "As a general rule, the Macisikani don't like trans-gardals - foreigners not from Vårheim. You see, sera, you and those you represent usually start off with a handicap; Makis take an instant dislike to foreigners because, in their experience, it saves time. So her ladyship blockades information and actively discourages foreign interest in any Covenant affairs," her pen started to doodle idly on her pad.

"Now, your president has impressed them by not acting like a spoilt child - so many national leaders seem to revert to pre-school age as soon as they are sworn into office. But getting back to the matter at hand..." a tree was starting to take shape on the pad; Hofstadler wasn't even looking at it.

"Let's start with the basics. What you can glean from their website. The UIK has more than 8 billion souls living under its direct rule, and the number is skyrocketing owing to a low death rate, high birth rate, and long lifespan. Their civilisation is ancient. It was already very old when a certain star appeared over Bethlehem." the slight smile became a small, tight one. "Which means that from their point of view, most of the world's nations are children... and that's probably why they get along well with the Vaadians - they're both old and grouchy. With me so far?"