NationStates Jolt Archive

As Semi Ran enters the main room of the cabin, he would no doubt notice the incongruity between the outside and the inside, much as Aglar did when he first arrived.

Danielle, who is facing the door when Semi Ran walks in, shoots to her feet, and curtsies, as well as she can, in pants. "Greetings, High Lord."

Gerald bows as well.

As Semi Ran enters the main room of the cabin, he would no doubt notice the incongruity between the outside and the inside, much as Aglar did when he first arrived.

Danielle, who is facing the door when Semi Ran walks in, shoots to her feet, and curtsies, as well as she can, in pants. "Greetings, High Lord."

Gerald bows as well.

As Semi Ran enters the main room of the cabin, he would no doubt notice the incongruity between the outside and the inside, much as Aglar did when he first arrived.

Danielle, who is facing the door when Semi Ran walks in, shoots to her feet, and curtsies, as well as she can, in pants. "Greetings, High Lord."

Gerald bows as well.

Tall, elegant, and despite his jet black hair, one might be forgiven for thinking the High Lord was an Elf. If one failed to notice the lack of pointy ears and the whole fiery-amber-eyes thing, that is.

Strong cheekbones lead to an equally strong, but graceful jaw; his eyes are large, and deep, with mild crinkles framing them indicating a lifetime of smiles. Yet despite the 'laughter lines', he is completely absent of wrinkles; he doesn't look much more than the age of thirty, but his eyes tell a different story - a story of a long, long life, with plenty of pain and anguish thrown in. A flicker of sadness dwells in those eyes, but the calm expression of his features overrides it with ease; the expression has a hint to it that suggests control rather than inner peace, however. His hand remains on his sword hilt until-

-he realizes that Aglar is not alone.

Aglar bolts to his feet, turning and punching his right breast with his left hand, calling out in drill-fashion, "Aran!"

Semi Ran looks from one to the other, bowing from the waist to Danielle politely, and gracefully, with a mild flourish of one hand. "At ease, nér. Who... is this graceful lady, pray tell?"

"I'm Danielle Pariskova, milord." Where or not the old forms of address were used in Dor Lomin, Danielle knew them for some reason.

Sensing that Semi Ran wanted more than a name, she continued, "Aglar saved my life, and in return, I offered him the hospitality," a slight smile, "of my father's old house."

That was more than a generous understatement of the help she had given.

"I'm Danielle Pariskova, milord." Where or not the old forms of address were used in Dor Lomin, Danielle knew them for some reason.

Sensing that Semi Ran wanted more than a name, she continued, "Aglar saved my life, and in return, I offered him the hospitality," a slight smile, "of my father's old house."

That was more than a generous understatement of the help she had given.

Semi Ran observes the slight smile. He observes the way that Aglar's eyes flick towards Danielle when she speaks; the way they crinkle slightly at the corneres; the way he smiles slightly, involuntarily, as she speaks. He also observes Danielle's usage of Aglar's first name - but... in acceptance of all else that he observes, he pushes to one side the inherant security risk alarms that ring inside his head.

A slow smile spreads across Semi Ran's face. He bows again. "A pleasure and an honour to meet you, lady. I, as you know, am High Lord Commodore Semi Ran - sometimes I am known as Semir-randil - First Minister to the Emperor of the Empire of The Eternal Dawn, His August Self, Emperor Si Ling I. - And you need not use that archaic term. Please, call me 'Semi'. I'm sure you can appreciate how tiresome it is to always have to sit on ones titles, hmmm?" This is perhaps somewhat strange to say after one just rattled off their titles.

He doesn't await an answer, however. He looks pointedly at Aglar. "Open, please," he orders - but gently.

Aglar bows his head. Thin tendrils of psionic - somethings - ripple out of Semi Ran and caress Aglar's mind, gently feeling and assessing.

Semi Ran bobs his head once. "Understood, Aglar. - Danielle," the recent excursion into Aglar's mind breeds unfamiliar familiarity, "...if I may call you that... do you understand the gravity of this situation?"

This is, of course, could be Semi Ran's polite way of asking: "Has Aglar breached security severely?"

"Of course you may call me Danielle, ah, Semi." Saying his first name appears to be difficult for her.

"The gravity of the situation?" She looks confused.

Gerald speaks up. "As far as I know, milord, no one but Ms. Pariskova and myself know for sure that Mr. Aglar is present in Dor Lomin. I cannot say that for sure. But there is no knowledge, only suspision, of his presence, in the circles of Federation Security. I am quite prepared to be terminated if I am considered a security risk."

Danielle blinks. She hadn't thought of that.

"Of course you may call me Danielle, ah, Semi." Saying his first name appears to be difficult for her.

"The gravity of the situation?" She looks confused.

Gerald speaks up. "As far as I know, milord, no one but Ms. Pariskova and myself know for sure that Mr. Aglar is present in Dor Lomin. I cannot say that for sure. But there is no knowledge, only suspision, of his presence, in the circles of Federation Security. I am quite prepared to be terminated if I am considered a security risk."

Danielle blinks. She hadn't thought of that.

Aglar sighs heavily. "My Lord," he begins, about to explain matters - when, really, he already has via the brief link - but Semi Ran cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

"No excuses, Aglar. You realize, of course, that your position in our... organisation... is absolutely untenable, now? You cannot possibly continue. - No matter. I was going to do this, anyway. Aglar, how would you feel about living in, say, Titan space?"

Aglar balks. "I... I don't, sir." He pauses, gathering himself.

Quietly, he asserts, "I want to stay here."

Semi Ran grunts. He glances towards Gerald. "And that won't be necessary. 'Termination' would be a touch extreme, I think. Dor-"

He grunts again. "-the Federation is an EOTED ally. I'm sure I can extract a secrecy vow, eh? Probably cost us dearly, I should imagine-"

Another sharp look at Aglar-

"-but these things happen. Aglar... I suggest you reconsider. It would not be an exile. And... is it not every Nenyan's dream to be a High Lord?" The High Lord Commodore doesn't allow for a response, yet. "I've been grooming you for the day when... well, that's not important. The point is, however, that this position is what you've been groomed for. Prepared for. High Nobles now traditionally come through... the ranks... and you are no exception. - And you, Danielle. How would you feel about becoming High Lady of the new Imperial state-to-be out in Titan space? On the World Ring, I should expect it will be. Of course, being the new High Lady, you could visit your father at any time... it's not a huge trip, these days. Just a few hours, I think."

He shrugs. "Of course, this is just an offer. It can be refused, naturally. But... I wouldn't, were I you. Actually, I didn't. But that's besides the point, eh?"

Danielle mutters under her breath, with a slight choke, something about her father being dead, but looks to Aglar for his response.....

Danielle mutters under her breath, with a slight choke, something about her father being dead, but looks to Aglar for his response.....

Semi Ran catches the emotional swell and comments, "My apologies, dear. I didn't know."

Aglar, for his part, looks absolutely amazed. And torn. And he looks to Danielle. Gazes at her. "Would you....?" he asks, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Semi Ran clears his throat. "Would there be somewhere I could get a drink, and leave you two alone? I have a feeling you'll need to discuss this a touch, eh?"

Danielle does not respond for a moment, but Gerald says, "Of course, milord. Follow me, please."

He 'walks' soundlessly into the kitchen.

Danielle looks at Aglar. "I didn't realize you were so high up in the government." She seems extremely surprised. "Of course I'd like to go with you. Other than this little house, and Gerald, there is nothing for me here. Everyone I ever knew is dead now."

She appears like she is about to start crying, but as if she is uncertain whether it is from sadness or something else.

Perhaps it is just an accumulation of emotional trauma over the past few days.

Danielle does not respond for a moment, but Gerald says, "Of course, milord. Follow me, please."

He 'walks' soundlessly into the kitchen.

Danielle looks at Aglar. "I didn't realize you were so high up in the government." She seems extremely surprised. "Of course I'd like to go with you. Other than this little house, and Gerald, there is nothing for me here. Everyone I ever knew is dead now."

She appears like she is about to start crying, but as if she is uncertain whether it is from sadness or something else.

Perhaps it is just an accumulation of emotional trauma over the past few days.

Semi Ran nods, and follows the AI. And does almost as silently, despite his considerable height.

Aglar gathers Danielle up in his lithely muscular arms, holding her tightly - but gently. "I'm not," he murmours, "and..."

He lacks the words to be sympathetic, but he tries anyway.

"...I don't know what to say, but. Well. I'm sorry."

He isn't exactly sure what for... but it seems the only thing to say.

[OOC: Damn its hard to RP as a chick, at least, when you're a guy.]

"Shush. Don't be sorry. You found me. You saved me."

She seems still overwhelmed by it all, but seems to be recovering, finding strength in Aglar's arms.

"I'll follow your decision, dearest one. If you wish to go, we shall. If not, we shall face the future together." The last is said with a slight smile, as she knows what the future might hold, were they to be properly rewarded for Aglar's actions.

[OOC: Damn its hard to RP as a chick, at least, when you're a guy.]

"Shush. Don't be sorry. You found me. You saved me."

She seems still overwhelmed by it all, but seems to be recovering, finding strength in Aglar's arms.

"I'll follow your decision, dearest one. If you wish to go, we shall. If not, we shall face the future together." The last is said with a slight smile, as she knows what the future might hold, were they to be properly rewarded for Aglar's actions.

[OOC: Heh. I always find it challenging. But interesting.]

IC:

Aglar nestles his head against Danielle's shoulder and sighs. Quietly, he whispers, "I'm not sure what I should do. If I don't accept, I won't have anything left... in my professional life, I mean. But. If you want to stay... I would give the stars away for you, my dear. - I admit, though... the position of High Lord of a new colony is..."

He pauses, searching for the right word.

"...very appealing," he finishes, even more quietly than before. But not as appealing as you, my love, he added silently.

[OOC: "May you live in interesting times."]

Danielle smiles. "Spy to High Lord may be a big jump, but not nearly as big a jump as barmaid to High Lady. I've never backed down from anything before, why would I now?"

A pause. "Let's do it."

[OOC: "May you live in interesting times."]

Danielle smiles. "Spy to High Lord may be a big jump, but not nearly as big a jump as barmaid to High Lady. I've never backed down from anything before, why would I now?"

A pause. "Let's do it."

Aglar lifts his head away from her shoulder, blinking rapidly - perhaps in surprise. Or delight. Either way, he blinks rapidly. A few moments pass. And then a slow grin spreads across his face - and he kisses her soundly.

Briefly, too. Quietly, he murmours, "You know... it's just about crazy enough that it might well work out." He grins again, bright amber eyes dancing with joy.

Danielle giggles at the last, her sorrow forgotten.

"Perhaps we should tell the High Lord?" she asks.

But she makes no attempt to move from Aglar's embrace.

Danielle giggles at the last, her sorrow forgotten.

"Perhaps we should tell the High Lord?" she asks.

But she makes no attempt to move from Aglar's embrace.

Aglar's grin spreads even wider, and, for some reason unknown to him, he suppresses the urge to laugh - actually, to giggle - himself. "Mmm-hmmm," he emits softly.

His eyes sparkle as he adds, "But not before..."

He lays a tender kiss on her nose. "Now we can tell him." His grin turns into a small, loving smile. "Or Gerald can," he suggests.

Gerald, of course, hears Aglar's decision, and his recommendation. He ignores it. He'll let Danielle and Aglar tell the High Lord.

His holgram, having showed Semi Ran where the drinks were, had not paid any attention to what Semi Ran chose.

So as Semi Ran finishes his glass, Gerald speaks. "Milord, I believe they have reached a decision. Shall we?"

'Shall we what?' is indicated by the sweeping motion of Gerald's hand back towards the main room.

Gerald, of course, hears Aglar's decision, and his recommendation. He ignores it. He'll let Danielle and Aglar tell the High Lord.

His holgram, having showed Semi Ran where the drinks were, had not paid any attention to what Semi Ran chose.

So as Semi Ran finishes his glass, Gerald speaks. "Milord, I believe they have reached a decision. Shall we?"

'Shall we what?' is indicated by the sweeping motion of Gerald's hand back towards the main room.

Semi Ran bobs his head slightly, setting his glass - formerly full of water, now empty - aside. "Indeed."

He follows, soft footfall and all.

Aglar, contrary to his inbred instinct to do otherwise, remains in intimate position he was in with Danielle before the High Lord re-entered. Quietly, without looking at him - eyes glued to Danielle - he states, "We have made a decision, my Lord." His eyes twinkle gently, and he pauses politely, in case Danielle wishes to tell.

Danielle doesn't wish to tell, seeing as how her face is buried against Aglar's shoulder, so she pokes him, and whispers, "Tell him."

Aglar jumps slightly at the poke, but grins. "We've decided on a 'yes', my Lord," he murmours. Intense emotions well up inside him - which is why he murmours it. Pride, although not in the fore, is a big part of the reason for his hushed voice.

Semi Ran smiles at the pair. A part of him inside, deep down inside, sighs. I wish...

He drives the thought away rapidly. "Excellent," he intones, in the same usual calm tone he employs. A rough edge of the pleasure he feels at one of his - best - students rising so high creeps into his tone, however. "To be truthful, I was a little worried you'd turn it down. But! You haven't. Which, really, is good. I was hoping I wouldn't have to select someone else; they wouldn't do as good a job as I suspect you both shall."

Semi belatedly realises that, for the first time in... Stars know how many years... he is waffling. He clears his throat, pushing away the thoughts that seeing the pair comfortably nestled together brings to the fore.

Some part of him, deep inside, whispers, Rialla...

* * *

Miles away, Rialla feels... something. She shivers impulsivley. Semir...

* * *

Semi Ran, having called a halt to himself, awaits some form of response. Or not. He doesn't really mind, either way. Yet he adds, "You won't need depart for a while, yet. The new colony won't be up and running for a little while."

Danielle seems surprised. She had generally associated extreme speed and efficiency with EOTED. "When do you think the colony will be operational?" she asks, pulling her head up and looking at Semi Ran.

Danielle seems surprised. She had generally associated extreme speed and efficiency with EOTED. "When do you think the colony will be operational?" she asks, pulling her head up and looking at Semi Ran.

Semi Ran clears his throat, again. "As soon as we get Triumvirate permission and have a warship ready to ferry people out. Maybe a week, at most."

"Oh."

Danielle's response was simple, and nothing more. And then...

"Have you had anything to eat? Aglar and I were eating when you landed. Moreover, would you like anything to eat?"

"Oh."

Danielle's response was simple, and nothing more. And then...

"Have you had anything to eat? Aglar and I were eating when you landed. Moreover, would you like anything to eat?"

Semi Ran smiles broadly. "Ahh, yes, definitley, please. Flying always leaves me with a hollow gut. Quite odd, that."

Aglar remains silent, at first, and merely watches Semi Ran with curiousity. He seems more relaxed than he did the last time we spoke; how... strange. I've never known the man to be more relaxed than usual... unless something bad is happening.

Quietly, he asks, "What news from the Empire, my lord?"

Semi blinks rapidly. "Ah. Nothing of huge note. The Executive Council is 'voting' on the Feline Crisis - although the response was decided quite a while ago. Besides that little spot of bother, little of note is happening."

There is a slight emphasis on the word 'voting'.

Aglar frowned, thoughts whirring. Strange...

Danielle disentangles herself from Aglar's arms and scampers into the kitchen, leaving Aglar and Semi Ran to talk among themselves.

"Anything in particular you'd like to eat, my Lord?" she calls back.

Danielle disentangles herself from Aglar's arms and scampers into the kitchen, leaving Aglar and Semi Ran to talk among themselves.

"Anything in particular you'd like to eat, my Lord?" she calls back.

"Whatever you have that isn't too heavy, please," Semi Ran calls back.

Aglar notes that the High Lord doesn't appear willing to meet his eyes. Quietly, he enquires, "Is everything quite alright, my lord?"

Semi blinks rapidly, quite surprised at the question. My word, he muses, it's been some time since anyone asked me that.

"Quite," he states, rather unconvincingly. He blinks again. That didn't quite come out right.

"Ahhhh," Aglar lets out, thinking - quite correctly - that he's guessed the trouble.

Semi Ran arches a brow, "'Ahhhh', what?"

"'Tis a woman, is it not? No, don't answer yet. And knowing you, my lord, you're stopping yourself out of duty. Well, don't. Nothing in the law that states you can't be in love, after all."

Semi Ran, for the first time in several thousand years, finds himself gaping at Aglar. "How in the name of the Stars did you know that?"

Aglar grins broadly. "Takes one to know one," he informs the High Lord, rising to move after Danielle... and offer his help, if she needs it...

...leaving Semi Ran quite amazed. Which, again, hasn't happened in some time. His tumbling thoughts emit softly, Rialla, if only you could know...

* * *

Rialla again feels the urge to shiver. And again, her thoughts turn to...

Semi...

Aglar finds Danielle placing the finishing touches on a plate of cheese and fruit.

She points to Semi Ran's water glass, hoping Aglar catches her meaning.

Aglar bobs his head, and fills the glass with water. Aglar eyes the cheese and grins. "Excellent choice. We Nenyans have a soft spot for cheese, you know."

"Good," Danielle responds, picking up the plate.

She walks back into the main room, trailed by Aglar.

She smiles as she sets the plate down in front of Semi Ran.

She then plops down on the couch, as a chair folds out of the floor.

[OOC: Damn but its a cool house.]

Danielle and Aglar find Semi Ran seated, stroking his chin thoughtfully and apparently in some far off place, as far as his thoughts are concerned. He blinks, and then smiles, standing politely and saying, "Thank-you, Danielle."

His eyes flit across the plate. "Cheese. My, oh, my. You do know how to make a Nenyan welcome, don't you?"

His eyes glitter with amusement, but a darker, more sad glint sits behind that amusement, as his previous thoughts continue behind the facade of social grace.

They sit in companion silence for some time. Eating. Sipping water. Each lost in their own thoughts.

A long time.

Suddenly a small bell rang. "It is getting quite late, milord," Danielle said. "And I'm afraid there are only two beds. I'm sure we can arrange something, though. Gerald?" The hologram, which had been gone for sometime, flicked back on. "Do we have anything to use as a makeshift bed."

"I don't know, ma'am. I'll check." He blinks out.

Semi Ran blinks. "I can sleep on the floor. Or outside, under stars, if it's not raining. Would be quite enjoyable, actually. I sleep outside reguarly."

Aglar chuckles to himself. "If anyone is sleeping outside, my lord, it will be me."

The High Lord raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Aglar clears his throat. "Or... or it would be you, my lord."

Semi chuckles.

Danielle chuckles as well at Aglar's hasty correction.

"Whatever suits you fancy, milord. It is not supposed to rain tonight, and the sunrise should be most spectacular over the cove."

She stands. "Why you two do is up to you, but I shall retire for the lateness of the hour." She kisses Aglar lightly, and inclines her head to Semi Ran. Danielle walks through the door to the bedroom, which closes behind her.

Aglar's eyes do not stray from Danielle until she is no longer visible. And then? Then he lets out a quiet sigh.

And turns his eyes to Semi Ran. "Milord," he begins... but the High Lord cuts him off with a slight wave of the hand.

"No," he informs him, "I think it's about time that stopped. Aglar, my student, you are soon to be a member of the High Nobility yourself. Therefore... why not get some practice in, eh? Stick with Semir, please. It's... fitting."

Aglar bobs his head, once. "Of course. Mi-... Semir... you were in Menelmacar recently, no?"

Semir raises an eyebrow. He lets out a vaguely interested, "And?"

Aglar shrugs, leans forwards in a vaguely 'I'm curious' maneuver. "What was it like?"

"Like... let's see. It reminded me of Nenya, somewhat. But... imagine the Lake area, magnified, and spread out across a whole nation. With more Elves than you could shake a giant stick at. As for the rest..."

He shrugs. "It was a state visit. State visit things happened. As they do. Not that that was what you were actually intending to ask, my good man, so... ask what you think. Or I'll take offense, and assume you do me a dishonour by deceit."

Aglar flinches. "No, no, not at all. Privacy is paramount, Semir. Privacy is paramount. I do not wish to intrude... but, you are troubled. And when I have been troubled, you have been there. Such as at our first meeting - they were going to wipe my memory, you recall. But you were singuarly unwilling to do so; it was, of course, necessary, and I have no doubt you would have, but-"

"Get on with it, Aglar," Semir informs him, with a light sprinkling of humour entering his tone.

"-of course, of course. Who is it?"

Semir frowns. "Who is who?"

"The woman. Who is she? She must be most..."

Aglar hunts for the word, with little success, but he finds no time - as Semir does not allow him to search thoroughly. "Nobody," he informs him curtly.

"Nobody?" Aglar chuckles at that.

"My good man, you expect me to believe that? No, no. Your surface feelings are uncommonly bare, Semir. They're quite tangible. Do not dishonour me via deceit."

Semir, despite himself, smiles softly at the turnaround. "Well met, friend," he states quietly, leaning forwards conspirationally. "Well met indeed. - If I were to tell you her name, you would be quite right to inform the appropriate parties and have me thrown into the Lake for disobeyal of an Imperial Decree. And were you not to do so, it would be an act of treason. Therefore... I will not tell you. And you will not respond by stating her name, or we will both be in severe trouble."

Rialla, Aglar knew. Semir-randil, High Lord of Ma-tek, Lord of the Lake, First Minister to the Emperor...

...was in love with the heir to the Throne. Illegally in love with the Heir. The Heir is disallowed from a relationship before ascendance; if this got out, it would send shockwaves throughout the Empire. Aglar framed his next words very carefully indeed.

That was the idea, anyway. He ends up blurting, "You aren't..."

Semir picks up on the words that aren't said with ease. "No. Of course not. Do you think I have no honour, man? No, don't answer that." He laughs, despite himself - it would appear that someone knowing this is a relief to the man who keeps his cards squarely against his chest in almost all walks of his life; Semir is, to any Imperial Citizen, the epitomy of the word 'secrecy'. Nobody knows quite where he came from; nor does anyone, more importantly, know his age.

Wild rumours, of course, abound; Semir is thousands of years old, and was there for the birth of the Empire; Semir is the true Emperor, the old heir to the throne, standing aside for Si Ling in an act of absolute honour; Semir is an alien, infiltrating the Empire at the highest ranks - yes, there are conspiracy theorists even inside the Empire of The Eternal Dawn - but by far the most popular: Semir is not Nenyan at all, but is Quendi.

This is, curiously, definitley more popular amongst the Noldor and Humans inside the Empire - but not particuarly popular amongs the Nenyan population.

Semir shook his head. "No, and to my knowledge, she has no idea. No idea at all. I doubt she would care; she is beyond any mere Nenyan in existance, I tend to think. No; I rather think that the only viable partner for one of her ilk would be Quendi. Not, of course, that that is likely to happen any time soon. The Emperor will never step aside until he is dead. Which will never occur," he amends, politely, "but me? No. I do not posess the rank for one such as she."

Aglar did not know what to say. And so he didn't say anything. He merely sat, offering quiet sympathy and understanding.

* * *

Rialla, ever at her desk in the old Government House in Turath, sighed.

He would never choose one such as I, she mused, for he has no ambition or ego; only honour. She sighed again. This was no small part of the reason why Rialla desired Semir above all Nenyan-blooded men - or Quendi, for that matter.

And it would be ambitious, she knew, and so, so, so very impossible... for now.

Rialla thunked her head against her desk. "Ouch," she let out, sighing again and returning to a more... noble... sitting posture...

...and returned to the terminal set into her desk, striving to dismiss such 'dishonourable' thoughts from her mind.

Gerald of course, was monitoring the conversation. He was learning much about Nenyan customs from this conversation, as much could be extrapolated from the little that was spoken.

Fascinating.

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

Danielle was awake. The sun would be up soon. She had spelt well, and she didn't wish to get up.

But she hadn't gone running since the day before the attack on Beruitis.

She needed to run.

She slowly, and quietly, arose. She put on her running outfit, shorts and a tanktop, and oh so quietly walked out of the small house.

She passed Aglar on the couch, and as she walked outside, she observed Semi Ran sleeping on the grass near his fighter.

It was beautiful piece of engineering. She didn't know of anyone who ever seen one this close up before.

Maybe no onw outside the Empire ever had.

She had reached the edge of the forest now, and she broke into a jog.

After a few minutes, she began to run, breathing in the heavy jungle air, rich with the smell of the ocean.

Lightly she ran, leaping over downed trees and running through patches of brush.

And she ran more. And as she ran, her mind cleared. Her worries and troubles were shed like too heavy an article of clothing.

Just her, the forest, the ground, and the speed. That is all there was.

Well, that and the some of the finest security systems the Dor Lomin Military, now the Federation Military, could provide.

Gerald monitored her as she ran, watching for problems.

Aglar slept on.

He had not slept so well in... too long. And he had not set his SAS (sleep arousal system) to wake him.

So he would not wake unless woken, or unless he... just woke up. It was the first time in years that he had actually had a fully natural sleep; a natural sleep meaning that he was not going to be woken up by an offensive smell drifting under his nose that he would have no recollection of smelling once he had actually woken up.

It was quite disturbing, really. But such as life when one is a RISE agent.

* * *

Semir was awake.

He lay upon the grass, eyes closed, but he was awake. He had grabbed a few hours sleep, of course - but he had spent quite a while simply laying on his back, gazing up at the stars.

They weren't as bright here. It was... unusual. The stars back in Nenya always had seemed to glow brighter than elsewhere - and Semir had travelled quite a bit in his long years. He didn't understand why; it was just one of those things.

He had dreamed.

It was not a good dream. He had seen bodies.

Thousands of bodies. Floating in blackness. Blood was... oozing... around the bodies, amongst metal. Shrapnel. Most of the shrapnel was whizzing around at great velocity, occasionally slashing through a corpse - no blood issued forth, of course. All the blood that was floating around had been spilled before the deaths.

It was... disturbing.

The dream had shifted. The Palace. Si Ling had been making a speech; Rialla had been beside him.

Rialla...

Semir's 'eyes' had stuck to her face. He had gazed at her. He had not heard any of Si Ling's words; he knew only her eyes. She was not looking back. She wore strange clothes... clothes that were familiar, somehow, and the familiarity was nagging at him somewhere at the back of his mind.......

And that's when he had woken, with a start. A slow light had been creeping across the sky; dawn was coming.

He had laid there, eyes closed, for some time. Considering the dream.

Soft footfalls had passed him, but he had not moved. Nor opened his eyes. He recognized the measure of the footfalls; he did not, with his experience, need very much time to become aware of such things. Danielle.

He had ignored them, therefore.

Semir was fond of running, himself. But not in foreign places. He loved to run in his own land, in Nenya; in the forest, through the golden-green light. Alongside the lake, its voice gently tinkling a soprano song in his ears...

He sighed. He missed Nenya already. He was too often away from his lands, these days.

He stood, brushing his clothes down, and wishing he had brought a clean pair. He had not expected to be staying.

A flash of his hand, and he drew his sword; an imagined foe sprang into being ahead of him, and he swept through a variety of maneuvers - both in mind and body - and fought the foe. The foe was fast; devillishly fast. He caught a sword across his hip and stumbled, muttering under his breath...

The combat in his mind continued. He had long since mastered the art of fighting himself; he always won, of course. Either way.

But it was... a little tradition.

Semir-randil calmly proceeded to cut himself to pieces.

* * *

Time passed. Not long, but long enough. Semir stood over himself, looking down with a smug grin and shaking his sword at the 'foe'. "You didn't get me that time, Semir. Better luck next time."

Danielle skidded to a stop as she burst back into the clearing.

Semi Ran was awake!

He had apparently just finished sword drills moments before, as his sword was out.

Of course he might be preparing to start them, seeing as he wasn't breathing hard at all. She wasn't sure.

But it did not matter either way.

She was disheveled. The High Lord should not see a future lady of the Empire in this state. Her breathing was slightly irregular, and a little heavier than normal. Sweat dripped down from the hair pulled back behind her head. It had been too long since she run in the jungle.

But there wasn't exactly anywhere to hide in the clearing.

So she approached openly.

Danielle skidded to a stop as she burst back into the clearing.

Semi Ran was awake!

He had apparently just finished sword drills moments before, as his sword was out.

Of course he might be preparing to start them, seeing as he wasn't breathing hard at all. She wasn't sure.

But it did not matter either way.

She was disheveled. The High Lord should not see a future lady of the Empire in this state. Her breathing was slightly irregular, and a little heavier than normal. Sweat dripped down from the hair pulled back behind her head. It had been too long since she run in the jungle.

But there wasn't exactly anywhere to hide in the clearing.

So she approached openly.

Semir slips Náralcarëlma back into her scabbard, fondly patting the hilt of the sword before sliding the small patch of fabric that conceals the hilt back into place. His head wheels around, piercing eyes pinpointing Danielle quickly.

"Ah, you're back," he remarks - apparently not at all bothered by her appearance. He smiles - but the smile does not entirely reach his eyes. The dream still troubles him. Of course... Danielle doesn't know that.

"You're awake," she responds, still surprised, though the barest hint creeps into her voice. "I thought you were still asleep. Aglar certainly is, well, I think so anyway. That's a very nice sword..." The tone of her voice is questioning, but does not demand an answer.

She continues walking at an even pace, towards the house, a course that will carry her directly past Semir.

"You're awake," she responds, still surprised, though the barest hint creeps into her voice. "I thought you were still asleep. Aglar certainly is, well, I think so anyway. That's a very nice sword..." The tone of her voice is questioning, but does not demand an answer.

She continues walking at an even pace, towards the house, a course that will carry her directly past Semir.

Semir chuckles lightly, the smile creeping into his eyes, now - he doesn't move, although his intent is to follow her back towards the house once she passes. "Yes, she is, thank-you. she's also... well, she's very, very old. Not a bit less sharp than it was the day she was forged, I might add. Her name is Náralcarëlma - the glorious fire-brand. She glows bright fiery red when her owner is furious - hence the name. - Aglar probably hasn't slept very well in a while... so I wouldn't be surprised if he was indeed asleep, and not just laying with his eyes closed."

His eyes twinkle with faint amusement. "Besides... I doubt he could have ignored your presence if you had walked by him, Lady... which I presume you did on your way out, eh?"

Danielle nods to accept the compliment. "I've heard legends of swords that do such things, but I have never seen one."

She walks past him. As he follows, she continues, "Aglar has been very busy since he arrived here, for sure. But it matters little. He'll wake up when he smells breakfast."

Semir chuckles lightly as he follows. "Yes, yes he will. I have to say... we Nenyans certainly love our food. Food, and celebrations. And singing. I think we get that from our Quendi heritage, somehow."

"I imagine so," Danielle replies. She mounts the stairs up to the house, and turns in the doorway, for once looking level with Semir, who is a few steps below.
"I was planning on cleaning up a little before I cooked breakfast, though. Feel free to look in the kitchen if you are hungry. Gerald can probably answer any questions that you may have, if any."

"Thank-you," Semir replies with the smile still upon his lips, "but I think I need to freshen up somewhat before I can eat, eh? I suppose Gerald can show me the way to the appropriate facilities?"

"Yes, he can, but they are just off the main room." Danielle steps through the door, which has slid open. She proceeds into the bedroom. Presumably, there is another bathroom in there. When Semir steps inside the house, he'll notice a spotlight shining on a doorway. That doorway leads to the, ah, 'appropriate facilities.'

Semir vanishes into the room, and, hopefully finds a shower. And proceeds to strip off, and use it. He doesn't bother to lock the door - in fact, he doesn't even think of it. There aren't many nudity taboos in the Empire, and privacy is reinforced by tradition rather than locks, in general. No crime, few locks.

He calls out, however, after a few moments, "Uhh, thanks!" And grunts at the fact he failed to respond at first.

After about twenty minutes, Danielle emerges from the bedroom, damp hair drawn up into a ponytail, and wearing a short-sleeved blouse and a knee length skirt.

After about thirty-five, Semir emerges from the bathroom, with hair slightly damp and, as usual, around his shoulders in a neat, well-groomed style. He wears the same clothes as earlier, however, considering his lack of others to wear. He appears to have cleaned them up somewhat, though, because they look fresh.

"What would you like to eat?" Danielle asks softly, so as not to disturb the still sleeping Aglar....

"No meat, please. But whatever you have. I'm not fussy. - So long as cheese is involved," he adds with a grin.

Danielle gets up out of the chair she'd been sitting in, gestures for Semir to sit, and goes into the kitchen. After about ten minutes of what sounds like stirring, a sizzling sound is heard. The smells of frying sausages, scrambling eggs, grilling cheese, and bubbling hotcakes.

Semir does indeed take a seat. His nose twitches at the smells - and although he said 'no meat', his mouth waters at the smell of the sausages. He isn't averse to meat - it's just restricted in the dietary regime he follows, for the most part. The cheese, however, smells particuarly irresistable, Semir muses.

Danielle returns to the main room. "What would you like to drink? I've got water, tea, apple juice, water, orange juice, coffee."
Semir looks up from thoughts of - yep, you guessed it: Rialla - and smiles. "The food smells delectable, Danielle. - I'll have... apple juice, please. Will make an interesting change from water."

Danielle nods and ducks back into the kitchen

Semir returns to his own thoughts. I know that something is going down, he mused, returning to his thoughts of the night previous before he had fallen asleep, but for once... I don't know what. Si Ling is out of the Empire.
Bao Ling is busy with the dig. Nejure is in Diablo_NL. Dejure is... somewhere or other, I don't remember where. And Bao Ling told me before I left, 'Be back before Si is.' By the Three Stars, what was she talking about?

Danielle comes out of the kitchen after a few more minutes, carrying a large tray, covered in food. A large bowl of eggs, smothered in assorted cheeses, a large pile of sausage links, a huge stack of pancakes, a large bowl of mixed fruit, butter, syrup, a glass of milk,a glass of apple juice, and a glass of water. Three sets of plates, napkins and silverware are also on the tray, which Danielle sets on a table that has just folded itself out of the floor. She looks at Semir and says, "My father never told me how those tables and chairs worked. Just when you need them, they appear out of the floor." She grabs a plate and begins to pile food onto it. She glances at the still sleeping Aglar, wondering if the food will be enough to wake him up.

Aglar stirs, and mumbles under his breath, "Food?" This causes Semir to erupt into rather roaring laughter - perhaps the most open display of emotion anyone is likely to see from the High Lord Commodore. He jabs a finger at Aglar, arm shaking, trying to say something, but only gets out, "I... haa! I... ha!"

Aglar bolts upright, murmouring, a rather confused, "Whaa...?"

Danielle giggles.

Aglar looks around, bleary eyed. A hand reaches out to rub at his eyes rather sleepily. With faint irritation in his tone at being so rudely woken, he demands, "What?"

Semir, for his part, continues shaking the finger and roaring with laughter.

Danielle glances sidelong at Semir, and to Aglar says, "There is some food if you are hungry. And no. I don't know why he is laughing like that." She hands Aglar a plate from the tray. "The water is for you."

Aglar's eyes settle on Danielle, a smile already forming on his lips at the sound of her voice. "Oh," he murmours, rather meekly, "sorry." He takes the plate, but doesn't eat yet. Instead, he sips at the water, emitting a quiet, "Ahhhhhh."

Semir shows signs of slowing down his laughter, and gets out, "I knew it! Aglar, you always know when food is on the go, always! Like clockwork!"

After chuckling slightly at Semir's last, Danielle picks up her milk glass, and after taking a sip, she gestures for the two men to fill their plates. I could learn much about Aglar from Semir. He obviously knows him from way back, and not just as his commander. "Eat," she commands lightly.

Semir and Aglar do fill their plates, and exchange a glance. Aglar still looks mildly irritated - at Semir - for waking him in the manner that he did. Semir speaks up, "Lady Danielle... it is considered most rude in the Empire to eat before the host. Please, start to eat first. Once you have begun, we can." Aglar bobs his head.

Danielle smiles, and nods. She will not forget such information. It would be important to adjusting to life in the Empire. She picks up a forkfull of eggs from her plate and eats them. She was hungry, after all.

"So," Danielle says after finishing a few mouthfuls, "are you here just to pick up Aglar, or for something else as well, Semir?"

Semir smiles, and begins to tuck into his eggs. Well, he begins to tuck into the eggs and cheese, mixing yolk and cheese together into one delicious mix. He eats daintily, with small bites, and even smaller, slow chews.

Semir pauses eating, swallowing the bite he was eating. "Well," he begins, "I came because I have... well, Aglar, you explain it," he states deviously, allowing himself to continue eating.

Aglar scowls. He mutters something under his breath, putting his fork down. "Semir recruited me. Years ago. I stumbled into a RISE facility as a teenager. Semir was... well, my mentor, suffice to say. He tends to check up on me after important missions, y'see. Not that he doesn't trust me - quite the opposite. He doesn't trust anyone else to report back my findings accuratley."

Danielle nods, sensing there is much more to it than that.

Aglar casts a glance at Semir, then returns his attention to Danielle, the smile returning to his lips. "Some people," Aglar continues, "might say that Semir has been like a father to me. That's not so. I don't think of him that way. He's far too... well, I don't. More like a big brother. Sometimes. Other times... well, I don't think Semir wants me to talk about his-"

Semir waves a hand, giving permission for whatever it is.

"-ah. Other times, he's like a grandfather. Old. Wise. You see, Danielle... Semir is not a young man. I am the only one Semir has told this. Semir is... very old indeed. Older than anyone alive in the Empire. You know of Sirithil nos Feanor, yes?"

Danielle nodded. Everyone knew of the famous elf-witch of Menelmacar.

Aglar nods. "A wonderful lady," he notes quietly, before continuing, "well. Semir is a relative of her brother-in-law. Blood relative. He isn't Quendi, though," again the look for confirmation, and Semir nods slightly, "-he's first generation Nenyan."

Danielle blinks in surprise, forkful of food pausing halfway to her mouth, then continuing. After she swallows, she asks "That would make you about 35,000 years old, wouldn't it?"

Semir swallows the bite he's eating. Without so much as missing a beat, he amends, "Forty thousand," and takes another bite of food, chewing it energetically.

Danielle nods again, accepting the correction, and looks pointedly at Aglar's food, sitting on his plate. Getting cold. Her expression goes from friendly to one which conveys a simple message: Eat some before talking. Then it softens again, as she looks at Aglar's eyes.

Aglar is quite good at reading facial expressions. And he's also well aware that he should eat the food before it's cold. He murmours to Semir, "You go on." Semir smiles. Finishes the bite he's on.

Semir lowers his fork, and notes, "About time you did that, boy. I taught you not to allow people to push you around, did I not? - Well, Danielle. Welcome to the inner circle, eh? I'll have to ask you something, however. And you, Gerald." He pauses.

Gerald's hologram flickers to life. Danielle swallows and nods. "Go on."

"Please do not speak of this to anyone. Please." Semir doesn't look exactly ready to explain why not - but something in his eyes and his voice suggests a slightly dangerous air about him when he says this. Yet he says it with... tenderness. A kind of love is conveyed in his voice; the very simple sentence is imbued with a multitude of levels - and there is far too much for any one person to discern at once. If anything

...that would be it.

"Of course not." Danielle looks shocked at the suggestion. Gerald is harder to read, of course. But he inclines his head in acceptance. "I will disobey my orders in this case," he responds. "Everything of which you speak, or have spoken of since you arrived, will not be revealed to anyone."

Semir sighs with relief. As does Aglar, it should be noted. "Good. I, of course, did not believe you would speak of it... but. One has to be certain, you understand. I sense that things will be changing in the Empire soon. You may need to be equipped... differently... in order to flow with the change." Aglar raises an eyebrow through his food, but doesn't comment.

Danielle's eyes widen, but she says nothing. Gerald looks worried though, but extremely briefly. Could he have just made a promise out of friendship that duty to his country would force him to break?

Semir's sharp eyes catch the brief flit of experssion. "Gerald," he states calmly, quietly, "perhaps it might be best if you... removed any memory of my making that statement, if you feel you cannot keep it... quiet. I would understand if you felt you needed to inform certain members of your government, but I warn you: I would also be forced to take action. I cannot allow my age to become common knowledge. I am sorry."

Gerald manages to appear horrified, confused, and insulted at the same time. "Delete...I..uh..delete...?" he sputters. "I would never tell anyone your age, High Lord. I have promised not to. But your hintings of upheavals in a steadfast ally, I'm afraid if called upon, I would probably reveal that information."

Danielle looks quickly back and forth between the two Nenyans and Gerald, an expression of horror, and the beginnings of rage, upon her face. To suggest that, to an EI! How dare he. she manages to calm herself slightly during Gerald's response though. Perhaps Semir did not know better. She had never heard of EI within EOTED, and there were many nations without them. So perhaps he did not know what it was he asked. The rage and horror left her face, but it was still cold towards Semir now.

"Mmm," Semir emits, eyes firmly fixed on Gerald. "So long as it remains a mere warning of potential upheaval, there will be no problem. The 'upheavals' are not likely to be dangerous... but things are about to change. It is tangible. In the air, you might say. One finds that, when things change often enough, one gets to know the signs, mmm? - My apologies for the suggestion of deleting memory. Yet I did not expect that reaction. Sarah would not react so. She is well-capable of removing segments of her memory at will - so perhaps for her it is not so... difficult? a subject. My humble apologies, Gerald. Yet..."

Semir sighs.

"I should note that humans have had memories removed for revealing less... important... details than my age. So, truly, I was not singling you out. This is how things work, I fear. Secrets must be kept. I do not like it... but then, I do not like the way the world is. If it is to be changed, sacrifices must be made."

Under his breath, Semir murmours, "And Stars know I've made enough."

"Of course, High Lord. I realize no offense was intended," Gerald responds. He glances at Danielle, who manages to return a smile to her face. He continues, "All EI are unique, but most of those in the Federation have to have to have memories forcibly removed. They are like humans in that sense."

Gerald smiles broadly. "I never said I would tell anyone, as it were. I just indicated that I would tell if asked. Not before."

Danielle was intrigued by the mention of Sarah, whom she supposed to be an EI an EOTED. It was worth pursuing at a later date. But not now.

Now she would finish eating. She took another bite, and ate it.

Then she drags them back on topic. To Semir, she asks, "Aglar said you check up on him after his missions. But how will Aglar return to EOTED? Your M# looked barely big enough for 1, much less two or three. And I believe his insertion method is, um, no longer operative. On the other hand, commercial transport should start up again tomorrow, seeing as how the period of crisis has ended."

Semir casts his gaze Aglar's way and frowns slightly. "You totalled an X#?

Aglar shakes his head... then nods. "Uhm. Yeah. Didn't have much choice, really."

Semir mutters, "Well... that's another fourty billion down the drain."

Louder, "I think Aglar could stay here, anyway, for now. Until the new colony is up and running, at any rate. By the way... a name has been chosen: Vilya Elenosto. 'The Sky Star-city'. Not very imaginative, really. But it works, don't you think?"

Danielle smiles. "The name is much prettier in Quenya, for truth, than in the common tongue." She takes another bite of her breakfast, and glances at the still half full plates of the two Nenyans.

She mused softly, after drinking some orange juice, "Maybe we can take a SB ride to EOTED, since I've never ridden one before..."

Louder, "Is there somewhere in EOTED equipped to handle SB transports?"

Semir lowers yet another mouthful-on-a-fork, and Aglar grins, returning to eating his own food at a slow, savouring pace.

Semir blinks as he tries to recall just what SB might stand for. Finally, he replies, "Semi-ballistic?" Hopefully.

"Well, if you do mean that," he continues, "then no. But I'm sure a Fancy flight could be arranged, with permission from the government here?"

He smiles. "I'm sure you would absolutely love Nenya." The glint in his eyes makes it perfectly plain that he does. And Aglar smiles through his food at the mere mention of the name.

"Yes, Semi-ballastic," Danielle agrees. She assumes a Fancy is some sort of aircraft, based on context, though.

Gerald chimes in. "I'm sure the government would want a detailed explanation of why the Fancy was coming, though. That might be a little complicated."

"Mmm, yes. But it would be a civilian chartered aircraft. And EOTED to Dor Lomin flights aren't exactly uncommon. Well... conventional flights, anyway."

Gerald nods, conceding the point.

Danielle having finished her breakfast, looks at Semir. "While I'm sure checking on Aglar was one of your reasons for coming to Dor Lomin, surely there were others as well. It is a long trip to make, even in a craft such as the M#."

She has no idea how fast a M# can go, though. Just that 3 Mm is a long way to travel.

OOC: I wonder what we're going to do with the challenge, now that Palpastine is deated for inactivity

Gerald nods, conceding the point.

Danielle having finished her breakfast, looks at Semir. "While I'm sure checking on Aglar was one of your reasons for coming to Dor Lomin, surely there were others as well. It is a long trip to make, even in a craft such as the M#."

She has no idea how fast a M# can go, though. Just that 3 Mm is a long way to travel.

Semir nods, curtly, just happening to be eating the last mouthful of his meal. "Yes, indeed - there is other business to attend to. But it's not a long trip, really. No such thing, these days," and he smiles faintly, "at least... not for us."

He stands. "I think I'll be taking my leave of you, now, actually. I never planned to stay the evening, for one - so I'm running a little late as it is. - Thank-you greatly for a lovely meal, Danielle." He bows from the hip, slightly. "And excellent hospitality. Good meeting you... both of you." He tilts his head to indicate Gerald.

"Until we meet again, friends."

I will inform you when the colony becomes operational, Aglar, Semir projects into Aglars thoughts, perhaps startling him somewhat.

If Aglar is startled, he doesn't show it, however. He merely nods.

Danielle rises and escorts Semir to the door.

"Thank you," she says. Surely an explantion of 'for what' is not needed.

Then she rises onto her tiptoes and lightly kisses Semir's cheek.

"May your path be clear of troubles until we meet again."

Semir smiles faintly and bows his head slightly, returning, "May the Stars light the Way of your Path, and may your Path lead you well. - And you're welcome."

Semir isn't one for goodbyes, so he does not say 'goodbye'. He simply turns smartly on his heel... and leaves, heading back to the Glorious, his trusty M#.

A faint, barely audible hum announces his departure.

* * *

Once in the air, Semir grinned. It had been good to see Aglar again - and even better, it had been great to see Aglar happy. Happiness was such a rare gift...

Semir set the smart craft to find its own way to the area of the co-ordinates Aglar had given him for the hotel where he would grab the 'present', and closed his eyes, equalizing his breathing. And meditated, silently... or tried to. A face dominated his mind, and he opened his eyes again, retaking the controls and sighing. "Rialla, if only you could know."

Quietly, he sings an old, old love song in Nenyan, the words barely audible even to his own ears. It doesn't help any.

* * *

Arriving and leaving with the advantage of not being seen, Semir collected the disembodied-head-in-a-bag and made his way back to the M#...

...and set out for Griffin International Transportion Hub.

When certain scanners told her the High Lord was airborne again, Cortana opened a communication channel.

Noting his course, she said, "High Lord, I've taken the liberty of giving you clearance for the Griffin ITH, no questions asked. I'll be there to meet you. Just home in on this signal." <Coded signal follows>

Semir fires back a brief response:

"Acknowledged; on my way down."

The M# descends as the signal directs.

A Cortana avatar is waiting on the tarmac for the High Lord.

Her purple hair and black leather bodysuit makes her standout among the brightly clad workers of the Griffin ITH.

"Bullguard should be landing any moment now, High Lord. The President will be onboard. I suggest we wait for him at the Imperial House, though." She gestures towards a vehicle that looks suspisciously like a Ferrari without wheel, except for the bright purple color.

Semir bobs his head slightly. "Very well, Lady Cortana." He hesitates - generally he would make the lady present enter through any door first - but clambers into the vehicle.

Cortana goes around and gets in the other side of the vehicle.

"Strap in," she says demonstrating with one hand, pulling a a seatbelt on.

After she does so, as does Semir, the vehicle lifts smoothly from the ground with no wobbling. And then...

Cortana presses the accelerator. The aircar shoots forward, pressing Cortana and Semir back into the well padded seats. The acceleration is obviously not compensated at all.

They rocket out of the ITH, climbing rapidly to standard travel level. Cortana blazes through the 'streets' at about 160 kilometers per hour. The aircar shoots by other aircars at a range of sometimes much less than a single meter.

At one point, Cortana is headed directly at one of the many kilometer high towers that make up Griffin, but at the last second a tunnel opens through the tower.

Even at that speed, it takes nearly 20 minutes before she slows down again, landing at the Imperial House. Cortana is unfazed by the journey, and hops out, expecting Semir to follow.

Semir grins wildly as the aircar kicks him back in his seat, and lets out a chuckling laugh...

...and doesn't look at all fazed by the journey. He has, after all, flown C# jets, amongst other such forms of conventional aircraft; the aircar isn't anything new...

...but from the look on his face, it's exhilerating all the same. And the tunnels certainly don't bother him; they're remarkably similar to the EMS tunnels in Nenya - and you pass through those in the blink of an eye, usually.

At the end of the journey, Semir naturally follows Cortana, still grinning - and clearly in excellent spirits, bouncing slightly on his toes as he walks - but still maintaining the near-silent footfalls, as ever. "That," he comments quietly, "was most exhilerating."

Cortana smiles. "I'm glad you liked it."

She goes through what appears to be, for all intents and purposes, and unguarded entry point into the house.

After a short walk through mostly bare corridors, after all, the Federation Imperial House is not near the size of the Nenya Palace, they arrive at D'ron's office.

Cortana looks at Semir and says, "I'll be monitoring your meeting, if that is alright, but I won't be here. Too many other things require my attention as well. This recovery business is complicated."

The avatar sits in a chair and the light behind its eyes fades. But Cortana is still present, undoubtedly.

Cortana smiles. "I'm glad you liked it."

She goes through what appears to be, for all intents and purposes, and unguarded entry point into the house.

After a short walk through mostly bare corridors, after all, the Federation Imperial House is not near the size of the Nenya Palace, they arrive at D'ron's office.

Cortana looks at Semir and says, "I'll be monitoring your meeting, if that is alright, but I won't be here. Too many other things require my attention as well. This recovery business is complicated."

The avatar sits in a chair and the light behind its eyes fades. But Cortana is still present, undoubtedly.

Semir nods, and stands silently, hands behind his back. His eyes lose focus as he focuses inwards - concentrating on other matters, while he waits for President D'ron.

After no more than ten minutes, D'ron steps through the doors. He'd actually arrived at the Imperial House 5 minutes before that, but had spent a brief time talking to Cortana before seeing the High Lord.

D'ron extends his hand. "Welcome to the Federation, Lord Commodore. I trust your journey was pleasant?"

[OOC: D'ron would normally be refered to by his last name, Smith, when you use his title. Though the standard form of address is Mr. President, just like in the United States.]

Semir takes the hand and shakes it firmly. D'ron might notice that Semir's hand feels slightly different to the way it ought to; as if it's coated with a thin film of... something. It is perfectly smooth, however, and apart from the slight difference of texture, feels just like a hand.

"Quite pleasant," he agrees, "Mr. President. Lady Cortana is a most excellent driver."

D'ron does not notice anything odd. He is wearing gloves, as usual. An eyebrow arches at the description of Cortana as 'a most excellent driver.'

It is obvious from the expression on his face that he has ridden with Cortana as well, and not found the experience quite as, um, entertaining as Semir did.

D'ron leads Semir through a door into the inner office, and gestures to a chair in front of the desk. He then plops, there is no other word for it, untidily down into the chair behind the desk.

"Well, you certainly have come quite a distance to meet with me, so you won't mind if I enquire as to why you made the journey?"

D'ron does not notice anything odd. He is wearing gloves, as usual. An eyebrow arches at the description of Cortana as 'a most excellent driver.'

It is obvious from the expression on his face that he has ridden with Cortana as well, and not found the experience quite as, um, entertaining as Semir did.

D'ron leads Semir through a door into the inner office, and gestures to a chair in front of the desk. He then plops, there is no other word for it, untidily down into the chair behind the desk.

"Well, you certainly have come quite a distance to meet with me, so you won't mind if I enquire as to why you made the journey?"

Semir holds up the bag. "I bear a gift from Emperor Si Ling I, friend." He holds out the bag, but does not smile.

D'ron noting the expression on Semi Ran's face, does not smile either.

He reaches out and takes the bag. It seems rather heavy, at the end of an outstretched arm.

He sets it on his desk, and unseals it.

D'ron glances inside, does a double take, and glances again. The head is still there.

The face is vaguely familiar, but he can't place it. Perhaps....

In a much less pleasant voice than before, he asks Semir, "David Fuchien?"

Semir simply nods, and states flatly, "Yes."

D'ron sits back in the chair, into a thinking posture.

This would not exactly look good. Yes, Fuchien's crimes were punishable by death, but this. This was extreme, but in character for the Empire of Dawn, and Si Ling, especially. Semir doesn't look to be too happy presenting the gift, either. Ah, well, it takes all kinds as they say. Made him glad Imperial House had an incenerator.

"I except this gift in the spirit in which it was given, High Lord." A flat tone.

Then, in a more normal tone. "We were wondering what happened to him. We found his family, but they knew nothing of what he had done, and so they are still alive. Shocked and horrified, but alive."

D'ron reached up and resealed the bag, placing it on the floor. He suppressed yet another shudder. "Did you have anything else you wished to discuss?"

"Yes," Semir says quietly, and slowly. He motions towards the bag, or the head, depending on which is visible.

"The Emperor wished me to inform you that that is a symbol. A potent symbol, to be true. It is symbolic of the Empires defence of its allies. The enemy of my friend is my enemy, even as the enemy of my enemy is my friend, no?

"The symbol, Mr President, is meant to show the strength of our bond. We are not... much elated over the method. Yet when one is presented with unusual circumstances, one responds unusually. That... thing... symbolizes the response the Empire would be wont to take should anyone else threaten our alliance. Quick, decisive, and very... quiet. It represents a paradigm shift inside the Empire. A change. We are changing, and this is a symbol of our change. Not our violence... that is diminishing with every passing day. - Do you understand, Mr. President?"

Semir's words carry a note that suggests something else... something dangerous. It may be clear that he is attempting to say something which cannot be said outright - or it may not.

"I...." D'ron pauses. "I do believe I understand. And your internal affairs are your own matter, not ours. As such, we will not interfere, unless it is a similiar matter to what has happened here. When the innocent suffer, not before. And I will remember the bond, and the price we pay to keep it strong. Let us hope that soon the price shall be diminished."


[OOC: Read what I meant. Not what I said. I don't quite have Ma-tek's way with words.]

Semir sighs. "Mr President... I am attempting to inform you that there will shortly be great changes in the Empire. Merely so that you may... be prepared for them. That thing," he motions again with his hand, "is a symbol of our willingness to do the difficult in order to aid an ally. But the manner in which we have... aided you... in this situation is... quite new. Perhaps you are unaware that an EOTED intelligence agent has been running around in your country the past several days, and has tipped off your intelligence community a number of times. This is the paradigm shift; we have never placed intelligence personnel in an allied nation before. This is to what I refer."

Semir's vibrant eyes search D'ron's face for emotional tip-offs - but his mind remains firmly restrained, and he does not reach out to discover what his eyes cannot - despite the temptation to do so being rather immense.

D'ron's eyebrows arch. He had been aware of the suspicions of the intelligence community that the Empire had been operating some sort of agent.

One who seemed far too lucky.

But he had not been aware that this was a policy shift for EOTED. "I thank you for your assisstance in the matter, and while I am unsure as to how one prepares for the shift you describe, I'll let a couple of people who might, know. Discreetly, of course. I assume you do not want this sort of change to become public knowledge?" The last is said with a small smile.

[OOC: Telepathy is a major counter-intelligence weakness of the Federation. A good telepath, in the right place - say a secretarial position, could find out /all/ sorts of interesting things. Being mostly humans, after. Of course, Nenyans would stand out like a sore thumb in the Federation, having triple strand DNA and all.]

Semir smiles slightly at that, attempting to look mildly amused that the question even has to be asked. "Of course not. Of course, we still wouldn't spy on you - the Law prohibits active espionage against allies - but my point is simply that the Empire appears to be leaning towards more... subtle... methods than we have employed in the past."

Sow the seeds, Semir mused silently, and allow others to reap.

"Heh. The Empire as a tendency to be rather obvious on occasion. Comes from having a military as powerful as yours. But I suspect there was more going on behind the scenes already than most people will ever know. So I can look forward to not having as many military units on alert to support the Empire, eh?"

[OOC: Note - I do not plan on decreasing active military strength at any time in the near future. Or the far future, for that matter.]

Semir smiles and nods. "Indeed, yes. We are about to... expand... in a rather unusual manner. We will have far more... support... and so we will not need to rely on all of our allies quite so thoroughly. - There have been rumours, of course; you may have heard the rumour spreading quite thoroughly that the Empire is again pursuing a Commonwealth to rule?"

D'ron shakes his head slightly. "No, I can't say I've heard anything of the sort about your empire. But I did hear something similar about the elves to your north. Might it have been a warped version of the rumor?"

Semir shrugs. "I wouldn't know," he states carefully. Quite obviously - and it must be that Semir wishes it that way, too - he is probing about said rumour. And knows more than he is saying, too.

And it would be a good be that he means it to be that way, too.

"Ah, but what are rumors but perversions of the truth? Or perversions of other rumors? Either way, it is just a rumor." His tone quite clearly does not wish to discuss it.

The President is not about to give out information that could comprise an Organic Intelligence Source.

Semir smiles faintly. "But of course, Mr. President," he replies smoothly.

"I trust my information has been useful?" Yet again, the implication is likely that Semir is... probing.

"Yes, your information has been, enlightening. I trust that there is no foreseeable reason for me to reveal it to certain members of the government, is there?"

He carefully doesn't mention the fact that Cortana, as far as he knows, is listening in.

"I doubt it," Semir notes with a small smile, "but that would be entirely your call, would it not, Mr. President?"

"Probably, true, High Lord. But call me D'ron. If ours nations are friends, I see no reason we cannot be." D'ron smiles. It is a true smile, not the politician's smile he wears much too often.

Semir undoubtedly can tell the difference.

Sometimes I wish our nation was a little more like the Empire. I wouldn't have to kiss the Opposition's ass occasionally then.

"Probably, true, High Lord. But call me D'ron. If ours nations are friends, I see no reason we cannot be." D'ron smiles. It is a true smile, not the politician's smile he wears much too often.

Semir undoubtedly can tell the difference.

Sometimes I wish our nation was a little more like the Empire. I wouldn't have to kiss the Opposition's ass occasionally then.

"Then you ought to call me Semir, no, D'ron?"

Semir matches the smile with one of his own - but his face is rather harder to read than one might expect. It is a genuine smile, of course, however.

D'ron laughs, lightly. "Of course, Semir. I expect I'll be seeing someone from the Empire at my wedding, won't I?"

Semir smiles widely. "Of course. I'm not entirely sure who, yet, however. That depends on... what is to come."

D`ron stands. "I hope you are able to come yourself, Semir."

His hand extends, then suddenly drops to his side.

On the reader, on his desk, had appeared. D - No. The Empire doesn't like to shake hands. C.

He presses a button on his desk. "I would love to chat some more, but I have matters to state to attend to. This depressingly nasty business with Palpastine after all.

Semir bobs his head. "Of course. My... condolences, with regards to recent events. - I'm actually running a little behind schedule myself, so... it has been a pleasure speaking with you, Mr. President."

Semir takes a step back and bows gracefully from the hip, fingers scraping the ground - and also displaying a great deal of dexterity. Not everyone can bow from the hip like that and not fall over in the process.

D'ron can't bow like that. So he inclines his head acceptably. "Until we see one another again, under pleasanter circumstance, High Lord."

When Semir leaves the office, he will find an escort out of the building, who will drive him back to the ITH, so he can depart.

Semir, never one for goodbyes, merely bobs his head, turns smartly on his heel, and heads out to his waiting escort - and then on to the ITH, eventually to return to the Empire in his trusty M#, the Glorious.

THE END!

*applauds, as he has been following the story*

*bows*

'm wondering what happened to the duel. great story tho.

What duel?

We had a duel. Was there supposed to be more than one?

I didnt see it

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=38606&start=220

In the middle of the page.

Ah, I see it now. How'd i miss it. Great story.