NationStates Jolt Archive

"Your Majesty. It's good to see you here."

Emperor Jaerl Exaionae smiled, and greeted his First Magnate with a firm handshake.

"Are the Kostemetsian and Kewen representatives here as of yet?"

First Magnate Eidnar shook his head ruefully. The at first fanciful alliance with the Kewen had developed into their membership in the Travellian Empire, a diplomatic coup that had landed him quite a few electoral victories.

"The Kostemetsian representative has just landed, as I understand it. He'll be at the meeting in a few minutes. The Kewen..."

He sighed.

"The rather unusual nature of their territory means that they have trouble getting to Hypatia. Their representative.."

He looked down at his wrist.

"I'm awfully sorry, your Imperial Majesty. I must be at the Council in order to ensure that we are, well, in order."

Jaerl's smile slipped away. The Imperial Council was only called once a year, barring emergencies. Consisting of two representatives from each the Kewen and the Kostemetsians - one political, one military, himself, the First Magnate, a member of the Argent Order, and, of course, a Travellian admiral. A total of eight men sitting around a table, discussing the affairs of an Empire. It was rarely interesting, or at least had not been so in recent years.

After a moment more of reflection, he followed the First Magnate towards the Council chambers, in time to hear him clear his throat, as so to prepare for his introduction. In no mood to bear the exchange of pleasantries with men he had met so many times before, he walked into the room, his suit adorned with but a few medals, earned in older wars, and a thin circlet of glimmering lights and light-slaying shadows atop his head, the interplay of light and dark playfully defying the rest of the world's patters of light.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I am Emperor Jaerl Exiaonae. I believe we have all met before?"

The Kewen representatives unknowling had been on Hypathia for little over two days, arriving in a small Shuttle not wanting any formal welcome or anything of the sorts, prefering to remian covert and not seen by the general populus fearing the reatcion of the common people it had been adivsed for Kewen not to be seen face to face with people unless completely nessasary.

So appearing at the enterance of the Compound The were already in a prearragned for looking vaugely humanish except for the slightl red eyes and occasinal flickering red forked tounge they waited outside to be escorted in.

"Ah. The Kewen are here, then?"

The First Magnate was talking busily to a man nearby. He nodded, and laughed.

"I see. They landed about two days ago? Why on earth didn't you assign them a security detail?!"

"First Magnate, every time our security detail got near them, they slipped away. Seemed to assume they weren't welcome."

The First sighed.

"Damn. Well, at least they weren't hurt. That's something. Send up an escort to welcome them in."

"Yessir."

It would be a fitting opportunity to introduce himself to the Kewen - as First Magnate, ensuring that his status as a diplomat was not in the slightest diminished.

The Kewen would be led through the Imperial Palace, down into the meeting-chambers.

"Yes, Your Majesty. "

This came from a conservatively-dressed African-ethnic middle-aged man. He could have been any successful businessman, if one ignored the discreet row of Gatesvillian and Kostemetsian medals and awards on his right breast, as well as the four gold bars of a Commonwealth Navy captain on his wrists. His security tag identified him as Peter Obo, staff captain for Navy division 114X.

A similar expression of assent came from the young peroxide-blonde, Caucasian female lieutenant commander sitting next to him. Her tag identified her as Hayley Mason, Div. 163X junior operations chief.

Obo and Mason both instinctively flicked on their neuroweb sensors and began to record the meeting for the Div. 160X techheads to pore over.

* * *

Should be interesting, Mason thought. She'd been assigned to protect Obo, being herself an expert in several forms of marksmanship and numerous martial arts. From her experience of him, he didn't need protection, but it never hurt to be safe.

The two kewen representatives were led down to the meeting place murmering a quick thanksssssss to the guards they opened the doors and entered shutting the door behind them they moved to the table and took a seat.

"Ssssorry for being late, we asssssumed it nessssssassssary to not be sssseen by the common people" Said the kewen on the right his form turned bright silver for a second his eyes glowing a brighter red before itassumed the shape of a black suit with a white inner shirt and black tie with black glasses(Men in Black FTW) the other kewen did it too small name tags materialsed on their chest the one who sppoke was labeled
"Sssasuk Cheif Diplomat" and the quiet one was labeled "Kresssek Chief Military Operative"

"Excellent."

Jaerl quietly sat down at the head of the table, the First Magnate on his right, the Grandmaster of the Argent Order on the left.

Eidnar looked down the table.

"I apologize for the wait. However, the Kewen are yet to have an opportunity to peruse their datapads."

For a moment, he wished he were more flamboyant. He did not have the grand manner of previous Emperors - he was merely dependable. He looked down at the datapads placed before all representatives, and the issues upon it. Trade, especially between Kostemetsia and the Realm, military assistance and modernization for the Kewen, and the expansion of the Empire..

Whether by peaceful means or otherwise.

Both representatives turned as one to the Kewen and scrutinised them for a few seconds. They seemed to possess shapeshifting powers, which was frankly a bit of a shock to both - there was obviously a reason the Kewen were legendary throughout the galaxy, but damn... shapeshifting powers? Such powers would require enormous mental discipline and physical fortitude.

Deciding to divert their minds, the Kostemetsians turned to the small pads in front of them.

* * *

Obo scrutinised the RTF file on his datapad. The top part was an intricate web of proposed import and export routes, costings on trade routes, potential cargoes for transport and other such things.

The bottom part was the data, solid blocks of numbers and utilitarian labels.

Interesting, he thought, cocking an eyebrow. Cutting the data and image from the pad, he saved them to a flek and turned to the Kewen.

* * *

Mason, who'd been assigned the role of security representative to the Imperial Council, was calmly viewing a pad of Travellian defence and naval hardware information. Startillery (as it was colloquially known) and automatic weaponry rotated deceptively placidly on her screen.

The damage ratings were higher than most Kostemetsian weaponry, the fact of which pleased her to no end. The fleet was in need of a refit anyway.

A voice sounded from beside her, and she instinctively looked up.

"Is there any particular reason you arrived here in such a... clandestine fashion?"

The kewen military detachee turned and looked and the Kostemtisan to his right and replied
"Yesss there isss a perfectly sssensssible reassson for our "Clandisssstine arrival" we simply do not wisssih to be sssseen right now, only a few timesss have we met other ssspecies and sssuch they were usssualy in a pre-atomic age and tired to often burn,persssecute or detain out Learner agentssss ssso we thought it would be wissse not be sssseen by the general people untill such time we ssssee fit, we were ssstil debating weather or not to be ssseen by you"

----

Sssasuk examined the data pad and nodding once in approval still looking over the pad he found that the Travellian weaponry only surpassed the Kewen on the ground and only in a few cases in space but most most were comparable in damage estimates one thing was on the Diplomatic delegates mind Trade and Visitors.

"Well," said Obo easily, "we're not going to burn you. Nor will we persecute or detain you," he added, keeping a perfectly straight face.