Gaze of the Abyss [Closed RP]

[Steel Butterfly]

General Jack Valkare loosened his tie as he looked out onto the city from the top of one of the tallest buildings in Orion. He was quite sure that this meeting had to be a security nightmare for the Imperial Guard. Ice had spread across the windows in the outer rooms, with snow cascading from the sky outside. It was the beginning of the year-long winter on the planet Steel Butterfly, the start of another four-year cycle of seasons. Unlike Earth, which has all four seasons in the length of a year, Steel Butterfly has a new season approximately every year, and in the capital of Monarch Heights, it typically got quite cold.

Monarch Heights was aptly named, the highest level in the ecumenopolis that was the planet Steel Butterfly. A single, continuous, worldwide city. However, the elegant Imperial Capital on Monarch Heights was only the tip of the iceberg. Below the plates holding the ‘Heights in the clouds was a massive industrial sector where most of the population of the planet lived. Even farther from the sun were the slums, home to the underworld and the dastardly. Valkare couldn't remember the last time he had ventured down to the slums, and now wondered if he had ever traveled lower than the industrial sector.

The sun was setting over the metallic horizon. Eric Esthar straightened his tie as he gazed into the mirror. The young lawyer had risen to great prominence in the Imperial government due in no small part to his outgoing personality, and it was his job to facilitate the display of the Empire as well as the mingling between their visitors. The Emperor’s health had been declining rapidly as of late, and it had increasingly become Eric’s job to be the public face of Orion. He had yet to decide if he liked the responsibility.

“I doubt there will be many single women tonight.”

Eric turned around to see Victor Braddock, Director of State Affairs, standing in his doorway. Victor was not the friendliest of people, and often had a knack of saying the one thing that would upset a person. His blunt honesty had not made him many friends in the Empire, but his consummate work effort and efficiency had avoided him from making too many real enemies. In to regards to Eric, it seemed he found joy in implying that he was not yet cut out for the job.

“I still try to look my best,” Eric replied.

“Perhaps it’s not the women you are after?” Braddock asked, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Perhaps you speak from experience?” Esthar quipped.

“Perhaps not,” Victor muttered. “Either way, this is an opportunity for foreign investors, not a ball. You should be focusing more on the properties and technologies, not the cut of your suit or the sparkle of your ridiculously priced watch.”

“The investors will be investing in me as much as they are in what we have to offer,” Eric replied.

“These aren’t businessmen, Eric,” Victor said, condescending. “These are diplomats, investing on behalf of their governments. I know it gets confused often here, but do you even know the difference?”

“Governments fall easier,” Eric replied, taking one last quick look at his suit and turning around. He smiled an award winning yet painfully artificial grin before quickly pacing out of the room. Smug, Victor followed behind.

“They should be arriving now,” Jack Valkare said, catching up to Eric and Victor in the halls and joining their stride to the main reception room.

“Ah, General,” Braddock announced amidst the security surrounding them. “So nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

“It amazes me that you get invited to these things at all,” Valkare muttered.

“I’m the money,” Braddock replied, his smirk ever-present. They rounded a corridor and came to the main reception room.

The room itself was lavishly decorated but with a sense of class that avoided any garish notions. White was the main color, adorning the tables, chairs, and chandeliers, but the walls were a dark burgundy, and the trim a gold not too ostentatious. It certainly was a sight to behold, and the exact type of first impression the Empire wanted to give.

“They’ll be coming down there,” Valkare said, turning and pointing to a grand staircase in the rear of the room.

“Any minute you say?” Eric asked.

“Like I said, most likely they’re already here,” Valkare replied, staring up the staircase. Diplomacy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet amongst a notorious ass and a young kid, it seemed that this was his party to lead. He shivered, although he couldn’t be sure if it was from the cold, or the idea he just had.

Eric Esthar - Jack Valkare - Victor Braddock

[Tiurabo]

Captain Santiago was sweating profusely. Inwardly, of course. No officer of His Lordship's Provisional Marines would be caught dead sweating in anything less than the jungles of South America, and he was nothing if not a true officer of that aforementioned group. Still, it was unnerving to be here, wherever the Hell 'here' happened to be. Surreptitiously crossing himself under the pretense of straightening his black peaked cap, he looked around carefully, watching for their hosts. This place had him jittery as a Junebug in January, he thought to himself, chuckling even as he did at the alliteration. Passing it off by clearing his throat, he readjusted his expression to one more proper for a diplomat, drawing his broad mouth into a line and dulling his black eyes, giving a slight lift of his thick eyebrows. Running one leather gloved hand over his clean shaven chin as he slowly turned, taking it all in, he glanced down to resettle his dark grey trenchcoat before returning his scrutiny to the view before him.

From where he stood at the window, he could see enough of the city to know there was a whole lot more to be scene. It was a truly awesome experience for a Tejano, a South Texan, especially one who's largest city was New Dallas. He'd boasted to the hicks and rednecks about his position, when he was younger, but it was an insignificant backwater compared to this... world. The idea still made him shiver; that he was no longer on his homeworld was something like a nightmare, an experience he might never believe ever really happened. Snapping himself out of his reverie, he glanced around again, absently fiddling with his cover again as he did so.

[Skeelzania]

Steel Butterfly wasn’t the only star empire looking to make a good first impression. The Skeelzanians had arrived with a small fleet, the delegation traveling on the carrier-dreadnought Burgundian. Attended by a half dozen lighter vessels, the red-and-gold Migration rode in high orbit above the meeting site. While the Skeelzanians had no reason to distrust Orions, the dreadnought was a rather blatant insurance policy. Even a fiery descent courtesy of Steel Butterfly’s planetary defenses would be catastrophic to the ecumenopolis below. That was the hope, anyway.

For the men at the base of the staircase, the Skeelzanian delegation was heard before it was seen. The echo of three pairs of boots marching crisply from the shuttleport echoed down the halls, growing ever louder until their owners stood in full view at the top of the stairs. With a final crash, the two flanking Skeelzanians snapped to attention while the third looked down at the Orions. A moment of silence passed, allowing both parties to size one another up.

Generally the first thing one noticed of Skeelzanians was their height. Even the shortest of the three, the older man in the middle, was nearly seven feet tall. His companions were even taller; the stern faced, mature woman to his left and the dark haired youth on his right were approaching seven seven and seven nine, easily. Both of them wore the dress uniform of the Skeelzanian Sternmarine, a dark blue double-breasted coat that hung to the knees and held shut with golden buttons and a large belt. The woman wore two gold epaulets, the youth none. In contrast, the middle man’s uniform was almost entirely blazing white, though he too wore two golden epaulets as well as a sash the same color as the other’s uniforms across his chest. As a courtesy gesture, all three appeared unarmed.

The silence ended when the young lieutenant stepped forward. “Honored Sirs of the Star Empire of Steel Butterfly, we salute you!” He announced to the entire room without actually looking at honored sirs he was addressing. “By order of His Imperial Majesty Kaiser Bertrand of the Skeelzanian Sternreich, His Most August Ambassador Freiherr von Sebeksberg is presented to you!”

The older man nodded to the youth as he stepped back into place, then proceeded down the staircase with the others following. Advancing on the reception party, he offered a gloved hand to General Valkare. “Good evening, sir. A pleasure to finally meet citizens of the Star Empire, for even in the Gamma Quadrant news of your exploits has reached our ears. May our two star empires find much in common at this meeting.”

Nodding to the others, he turned back to his companions. “Allow me to introduce my compatriots. This is Captain von Zemstaldt, on leave from the Sternmarine Chief of Staff and a dear friend since our time together aboard the dreadnought Turandot.” The woman bowed, her tightly-bound blond hair staying firmly in place at the nape of her neck. Her eyes never ceased casing the room, never staring but always alert.

“Proved a great help when the admiral had his bridge shot away at New Constantinople,” von Sebeksberg continued with a smile. “And this young man is Lieutenant Temur Drachenson, my cousin’s boy, attending as my personal aide.

“Seems that we’re the first ones to arrive? I don’t suppose you have any sort of hot drinks on hand. Steel Butterfly is rather more chill than Solomon or, God knows, my native Mahon.”

[Tappee]

There was a brief crackle of energy as the shuttle made the transition back into normal space. The Artimus was civilian shuttle, a favorite among Tappee’s upper class, its design was simple but yet eloquent at the same time. However, for those that had diplomatic relations with Tappee, the Artimus was a stark contrast to the customary military vessels that was usually sent on various diplomatic missions. Even to a simple observer, there was something different going on here. Having received permission and flight path to enter Steel Butterfly atmosphere the pilot pushed the Artimus towards the planet below.

Charles Dodalla, or simply Chuck as he was known to his friends, took a moment look out the window at the planet below him. He felt a touch of nostalgia flying over the planet despite the fact that he had never actually been here before. Despite that fact he easily picked out different landmark that were scattered across the surface of the planet. One of particular note was the Outlander memorial. Over ten years ago Chuck’s mother, then Admiral Dodalla was part of the allied assault that had freed the planet from Nimbus’ evil clutches. Chuck could remember watching the news footage showing the devastation that had ravaged the planet. Now one could hardly tell that the event had ever happened. They had come so far in such a short period of time.

“A Penny for thoughts”

It was a question that had caught Chuck by surprise and snapped him out his daze. Quickly he turned his attention away from the window and to the woman sitting across from him. She was giving him a smile, something that always seemed to calm his nerves. He found her green eyes and long brown hair just as active now as the day he had met her. Perhaps that is why he had married her, or maybe it was that she always had known just what to say to him.

“I’m sorry Sarah, I didn’t mean too” Chuck didn’t know why he was apologizing, just that he felt some strange need to.

“It’s alright.” She hadn’t meant to make him feel uncomfortable, it was just that she was beginning to feel a bit bored and had wanted to start up some conversation to help pass the time. Truth was she had always found things such as this rather on the dull side.

“I think that we should be arriving rather soon.” Chuck said noting the distance from the shuttle to the ground, but given the nature of a planet such as this one never could really tell how long their trip to the planet side would. However, his guess turned out to rather correct when the shuttle set down a short time later.

It did not take long from the time that they had stepped foot on the surface until they found themselves at the meeting. As they made their entrance Chuck felt a touch out of place next to Sarah, she was wearing formal red dress that almost seemed to flow around her, while he was wearing his Navy dress uniform.

A glance across the room told him that they were some of the first to arrive, but not the very first. By the window he saw man looking out at the great urban sea, and another group speaking to a men he believed to General Jake Valkare.

Deciding that in was not the best to interrupt the conversation between the General and his new found friend Chuck made his way over the man by the window.

“It is an impressive view isn’t.” Said Chuck we he was close enough

[Largent]

The Largentian starship Nocturnal hung in lonely immobility above the planet Steel Butterfly. Inside the two Largentian delegates prepared to board their transport to the surface. The two strutted down to the loading bay, locked in heated debate undoubtedly brought on by prolonged time spent together during the journey. On the left was the Duke of Fife, Otto Von Bismark, a tall, lean man, whose eyes scintillated with youth despite his wavy grey hair. His glasses sat slightly lower on the bridge of his nose than usual as he leaned toward his compatriot in an effort to underscore his point. "That's the problem with all you extrasolar diplomats. You're all trained to value political influence over military power. You spend your entire lives just getting more and more people to listen to what you have to say."

The Duke's partner, Travis Imnel snorted with a bitterly sarcastic laugh as he launched into a retort. Imnel had been disillusioned with Largentian politics early on. That is why, much to his family's dismay, he joined a special program at his university that trained and specialized graduate students with degrees in politics to become extrasolar diplomats. They felt that it took greater finesse to deal with peoples whose customs and homes are so vastly different from those in Sol. At a first glance, Imnel was an odd partner for the Duke. He was a full head shorter, half the age of the Duke, and while the Duke had a "distinguished" head of hair, Imnel's was fine, brown, and impeccably neat. Of course, if one new what to look for, they would see the more subtle differences. While both men wore identical black suits and ties, and both had a golden handkerchief in their breast pocket to add a little flare, the Duke's bore the flag of the Empress, while Imnel's bore the flag of the republic. Their pairing was an appropriate representation of nation they served. "Pardon me for having a little finesse. You're right! Why conduct politics in a civilized and respectable way when we can send in our battleships for a healthy dick-measuring contest?"

"Because not all of us come up woefully short in that department," the Duke jabbed, holding his hand over the shorter man's head mockingly.

Once the two were off the Nocturnal and headed toward the surface, their exchanges began to cool. They stood side by side at the shuttle's window and watched as the city came into view. In fact, the notion of a world-wide city was nothing new to these men. While Largent did not control an entire planet, the nation was fully developed and considered a quasi-ecumenopolis that just so happened to abruptly end at their borders. Now, just as at home, the Duke couldn't help but gaze down into the seemingly bottomless gaps in the surface. "Have you ever been down there?"

"Here? No."

"I mean at home. Down to the true surface."

"No."

"Pray you never have to," the Duke said with a sigh. "All it takes is one trip to see just how civilized humanity really is."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a moment, like an unwanted third party that both men tried hard not to acknowledge. Luckily the shuttle came to a gently stop moments later and the two men were on their way to the meet. As the two made their way down the staircase and the room came into full view, each made sure to smile and nod as though their were genuinely impressed. Actually, they each had been taught not to care in the slightest. Put bluntly, their job was to cut through the razzle-dazzle and learn everything there is to know about who their are dealing with. Nevertheless, it is just as important for the guests to put on a show as it is the hosts. That, of course, is why the two men immediately identified their hosts. Two appeared to be tied up in conversation, while the third appeared unoccupied. Once they had gained the man's attention, they each bowed and introduced themselves. The Duke added, "I must say, the people of Orion certainly know how to impress," as he motioned to his surroundings.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

The space over their destination was certainly busy, not that it troubled the squadron assigned to escorting the Chancellor and Minister of Trade. The two gentlemen were of course, dressed impeccably in the latest Dominion fashion, with their own particular tastes exhibited. Dark suits, tailor-fitted, Cesare preferring a mandarin collar, cream-colored silk cravat, and rich brocade waistcoat in the red black and cream colors, and di Medici choosing a simple yet stylish unrelieved black matching jacket and pants, polished leather shoes, and a soft, somewhat shiny black turtleneck of smart material imported from the FSP. No matter the heat, or cold, no one would see him sweat, shiver, or look at all uncomfortable – just how he liked it.

On the arm of di Medici, was the lovely Elena Villanova, Devras socialite who had for years maintained an off again, on again relationship with the man in private, but had finally warmed to the idea of being seen more publically. Her rich, dark hair was pulled up in an intricate updo, loops and curls pinned delicately in place with tiny diamond-tipped hairpins. Yes, it was clear she was younger than he, at least by a decent bit, but she didn’t seem to mind. She pampered herself, and allowed herself to be pampered with everything money could buy, keeping her body, and wardrobe, in excellent condition. Her dress was a simple strapless black gown that hugged her torso like a firm yet gentle glove, falling off her waist in soft folds and gathered drapery to one side.

With Calabrese was his wife, the lovely, demure Sofia. Her blonde hair was also drawn up with soft strands hanging down to strategically frame her face. Brows arched delicately over sea-grey eyes that sparkled with a pleasant sort of good-natured humor. She too looked younger than her husband, though not nearly by so much as the other couple. She walked with her arm draped comfortably through his, her tasteful evening gown a pale cream accented with faux pearls gold threads to offset his dark ensemble.

With each couple a single soldati guardsman accompanied, in their usual unrelieved black uniform, boots, and long coat. Dark glasses did anything but dim their surroundings, being wired for comms, and tactical information, along with visual aids. Following along protectively behind their charges, they keep their interactions to brief hand signals, or quickly-murmured phrases over Spook when needed.

The group makes their entrance with pleasant smiles, and a casual, comfortable air, nodding to others as they make their way from their shuttle to their destination.

“A pleasure to be here,” Calabrese says, offering a hand to whomever happens to be there to greet them. “I hope the trip was as pleasant for the rest of you as it was for us?” This latter to the group gathered there in general, of course.



ooc: Yes, brief-ish, but wanted to at least get them there, and see where things go.

[Crimmond]

A single ship exited from a rip in space... as it approached the capital planet, the historical databases would identify the ship. A Vlad-Class Battlecruiser. An ancient design operated by only one nation: Crimmond. It was in surprisingly good shape, considering it's advanced age. Obviously the Crimm were big on using hulls to their absolute age limits.

---

There was only one person in the 'delegation'... he was a six foot six and easily hit four-hundred pounds. His round shape belied strength, though... he moved his bulk without any trouble at all. Dressed in a simple all-black silk suit that appeared custom made, he simply let his gaze sweep over the assembled delegations. he was also studying their bodyguards and the general security of the room. All of those security specialists would notice, he knew.

After a moment, he spoke softly and his deep baritone carried surprisingly well. "I am Senator Byron Fisk, representing the Empire of Crimmond."

Apparently that was all he had to say for the moment and he contended himself to stroll slowly about the room, as if nothing was on his mind... all the while continuing to scrutinize the security arrangements for this grand meeting the Orions had put together. He was impressed, as it seems they had gone all out... short of soldiers with assault rifles standing beside each and every delegation.

He soon found himself nearby Chancellor Calabrese and nodded to the bodyguard with them, before looking around teh room again as he spoke, in a softer tone than before. "I think you'll be pleased with the way the Steel Empire takes care of it's guests. They've always been very careful with large gatherings of diplomats." Whether this was said to the Chancellor or to the guardsman... or both... was anyone's guess.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

The nameless soldati observed the Senator’s approach, and nodded briefly in return – other than that, they continued to keep a silent watch on the area in general, and those persons within it.

Big fellow, that.

“A pleasure, Senator,” Calabrese said smoothly, being the closest thing to any response thus far to respond in turn to. “I’ve every confidence in the Empire’s abilities that way, or doubtless, none of us would be here. Hopefully this will be a productive and pleasant opportunity for all around, no? Chancellor Calabrese, of the Dominion, by the way. And my associate, Minister di Medici – and of course, our lovely ladies, Sofia and Elena.”

Both Calabrese and di Medici offered hands in greeting, the latter with a perfunctory nod and smile, while each of the ladies offered their own charming smiles and nods of introduction. “I take it you’re quite familiar with the Empire and its events, then?”

Of course Calabrese was more than aware of at least some ties of the past between the two nations in question. GDODAD membership, The Order of the Seraphim to name a couple, both of which the Dominion had at one point or other come into conflict with on various levels. Of course, it hadn’t always been ‘conflict’ either, dependant on the situation, but there you had it. The event promised to be interesting at the very least.

[Crimmond]

Fisk chuckled softly, shaking the offered hands firmly. "I am not familiar with recent events, no... the Orion Sector is too distant for the Empire of Crimmond to keep an eye on. Too much to do on Earth, you see. But it's ancient past? Oh, yes... I know much about that. After all... I was there when it was happening." He pauses and looks about slowly, scanning the crowd. The two guardsmen would probably recognize the way he surveyed it. He had training in security, to be sure.

"They've changed much since that time..." He says softly. "Hopefully not so much that they have forgotten where they came from."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

“Well, as much as we’d like, we can’t be everywhere watching everything at once, any of us,” Calabrese answered lightly, casually adjusting his jacket. “Adapt and live, they say. I’m sure we’ve all changed a bit over the years. Hopefully for the better. It does leave the way open for things such as new or improved relations,” he observed, glancing around at the others gathering.

“And to expand trade,” di Medici added with a grin. “After all, who doesn’t want to improve their financial standing and fill their coffers? Change can be a good thing, if one takes advantage of the opportunities it sometimes turns up.”

[Skeelzania]

“Exactly why the Sternreich is here, my good gentlemen.” Von Sebeksberg turned to the Dominion group and the somewhat grotesque Crimmondian. “I can hardly describe the excitement felt by the diplomatic offices when this opportunity presented itself. Even forty thousand light years from Sol, the reputation of Orion demands respect and attention. That so many other notable powers have sent representatives made this meeting impossible to pass up.”

‘The old man certainly lays it on,’ Temur thought to himself. Standing silently beside Captain Zemstaldt, he entertained his own thoughts about the importance of the summit. ‘Buggered spooks, could barely supply us with enough material to fill a decent tourist brochure. If Orion is home to such a power, then why did they feel the need to fire open invitations to the four corners of the galaxy?’

Von Sebeksberg continued to prattle. “The Kaiser is a firm believer that gold is the true determinate of power. Skeelzania will never take its rightful place among the nations as long as we remain fortified camp, a military backwater of human civilization. It is vitally important that we open as many markets as possible for our goods and especially our resources.

“Which reminds me! Minister di Medici, you do not happen to be a relative or even the very same Minister Bernardo di Medici that handled our request to your nation’s Trade Alliance? I trust that the twenty five pounds of platinum was put to good use.”

Behind him, the Skeelzanian captain frowned at the blatant reminder of what was essentially a bribe. Lieutenant Temur did not share her expression, as he amused himself with examining Calabrese and di Medici’s escorts. He tried to ignore the silk-wrapped butterball spoiling the view.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

The ladies laughed softly a bit at the mention of bribery, quietly talking amongst themselves while observing the men discuss, with Elena offering the Skeelzanian officer a hint of a wink as he looked them over.

Bernardo coughed lightly, giving Calabrese a sidelong glance, to which the other arched a brow, and the former shrugged, and smiled. Understanding was achieved.

“Yes well … that was rather a large share of ah … generosity there, good sir,” he replied, offering Von Sebeksberg a nod and a bow. “Though fear not, the process of investing and diversification is ongoing – and very much appreciated. Please extend my thanks to Minister von Krugstadt. I hope the Network has been a fruitful expedition for your businesses?”

The Skeezlanians were more than a little … imposing in person, for those unfamiliar with them, which by and large, the Dominion folk were not. At least things were getting off to a more or less friendly start. As always, adapt and live was the standard those dealing with the international community had adopted, be it adapting to situations, racial differences, or other things that might pop up. Those unable to do so did not pursue – or last long – in such positions.

[Skeelzania]

“To a point, to a point.” Reaching up to tug on his snowy white beard, the Skeelzanian frowned at a point on the floor somewhere between the two Dominion couples. “There are still scars left over from the policies of Empress Arkady which are somewhat impeding. Still, there have been some successes. Several of our fuel tankers have traded on Earth without being shot of the sky, much to the surprise of some within the Sternreich.”

Brightening, von Sebeksberg looked back up at di Medici. “Herr von Krugstadt has perhaps benefitted most of all. He enjoys a rather substantial monopoly on prime Terran trout, which I am told is quite popular on Solomon. I find them rather bony myself.”

“I’m sure that things will only improve as ties are properly restored,” the slightly-flushed Temur proffered.

There was a brief pause as the two elder Skeelzanians turned and frowned at the young man.

“Undoubtedly.” Von Sebeksberg turned away, the men standing by the window catching his gaze. “I wonder who our sight-gazing companions will turn out to be. The view is admittedly impressive. I do not profess knowledge of the urban planning philosophies employed within the Dominion, but this planet’s urbanization dwarfs Solomon’s. They must have efficient heat sinks here on Steel Butterfly, to have weather such as this over a planet-wide urban heat island.”

[Largent]

Leaving his partner to continue the conversation with the representatives of Orion, the Duke turned toward the Skeelzanians and Dominion delegates. "Not to mention how difficult simple things such as transportation and basic amenities become," he interjected as politely as possible. "Duke von Bismark, of the Largentian delegation," he said, introducing himself the the group in general. "Largent has begun to face some of these issues seeing as our borders are relatively small compared to our ever increasing population. However, urbanization on a planetary scale is breathtaking to say the very least. I'm eager to see more of the city."

Looking around, Bismark realized that he was quickly becoming the shortest man in the room. For some reason, seven feet was quickly becoming the norm in international politics. Apparently there was some mineral deficiency in Largentian drinking water. Luckily, Bismark had always strived to have a big personality. "I couldn't help but overhear you and Minister di Medici discussing the TNA. I must admit I am more that a little surprised that as members we have not had more extensive dealings with Skeelzania. Hopefully this event will help to rectify that." Actually he was not surprised. Not at all. But he would just keep that little nugget of information to himself.

"And Minister di Medici, it is a pleasure to see you here. While we have never had direct communication I certainly recall your involvement in Largent's procuring a spot on Machiavelli. A lovely little slice of Sol you have there." Despite certain hiccups that were still being sorted out.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

“It’s good to hear things are at least improving,” Bernardo replied, nodding in understanding. “Lets hope things continue in that direction, yes? Time and effort, the support of people with some vision and direction,” of course directed to those Skeelzanians present in a complimentary manner. “All in good time, hopefully. I have to agree on the trout – a fine little fish as things go, though I find if you have the right chef preparing it, it does make a bit of a difference.”

“We’ve nothing quite on this scale,” Cesare admits to Von Sebeksberg’s ponderings, taking the opportunity to observe the impressive view as well. “While urban spread does have its place, and some of our holdings are less hospitable to the usual flora and fauna, our citizens have traditionally shown a preference for the majesty that nature seems to offer. We’ve many wild places still left, and our city building has, while moving forward, managed to not overtake all our surfaces. The NDA holdings on Mars are a bit of an exception, but that’s to be expected when built over water as opposed to on land. Even there we’ve managed to introduce what greenery we can – rooftop gardens have become quite popular, there and in other places where arable land is scarce. Still … one has to admit, this level of urbanization is impressive in its own right, with its own unique beauty.”

As the Largentians join them, the Dominion party returns the greeting, and repeats the introductions of Cesare and Sofia Calabrese, Bernardo di Medici, and his companion, Elena Villanova, the gentlemen extending their hands in turn for their usual greeting, and the ladies smiling and nodding politely.

“Our thanks,” Bernardo replied to the compliment. “We are rather proud of it, all things considered. Its working out rather nicely, and all those involved seem to be turning a decent profit. Even the few problems that pop up now and then, as with any large facility, seem to get solved with fair efficiency.”

Of course he was referencing the ‘incident’ that had occurred, hoping to subtly reassure the man that things should, hopefully, be solved to his satisfaction sooner rather than later.

[Midlonia]

The Midlonian delegation had arrived quietly and silently using some of their newest, sleekest and if not well, but decently armed ships, there were two delegates. A long suffering semi-retired diplomat called Daniel Dyer, and the Foreign and Economic Minister, George Hillcrest.

Truth be told the Greater Kingdom had been operating in the Orion Sector for years covertly. They had also noted the alarming expansion of the Steel Empire which limited the Midlonians own expansion wishes in the lush, highly habitable sector somewhat, they had picked about a half dozen worlds within the sector in different systems. Four of which had now fallen to the Steel Emperor’s gaze.

However, this had also meant the interstellar Empire in Orion was stretching itself thin. Eventually the Empire would either crumble, or become rotten enough that a swift kick to a large door would send a whole series of systems tumbling. This was the inevitable nature of Empires such as this, they became hub and spoke. A single, slightly better defended world was the main “go to guy” of several other worlds. If that was attacked and fell, it was highly likely the systems around it would capitulate rapidly.

These things, however were placed on the backburner. The diplomatic mission was of interest in some trade and technology that the Steel Empire didn’t posses, and maybe raw materials and other things the Steel folks did that the Midlonians might need. Not to mention having a base to operate a few more spies out of never exactly hurt a nation with devious intent.

Still, this wasn’t public knowledge and it was denied by either person. Because neither of them knew. As far as they were concerned this mission was about opening relations with a large, slightly unstable at the fringes empire that was of interest to the Midlonians.

“George Hillcrest, Minister of Foreign, Colonial and Economic affairs.” he said with his award-winning white smile with perfect, shiny white teeth.

Dyer, next to Hillcrest simply grumbled a little. He disliked his “newer” boss who was still relying on the old coot [as he referred to himself] to teach the young blood stuff they should know by common-bloody-sense.

Hilcrest took an obligatory drinks flute, but he’d barely touch it for the first half of the evening, taking incredibly gentle sips that meant barely any liquid would leave the glass, drifting a little he soon found a small group of delegates clustered together, he could easily recognize the Skeelzanians, something that made Dyer twitch a little.

The Midlonians and Skeelzanians had met only once before. On the battlefield. And it had always puzzled the old diplomat, and most of the scientists that had scoured over the cruiser and asteroid captured in the skirmish, how such tall creatures existed on a high-gravity world.

Still, diplomatic niceties and all. Hilcrests eyes lit up when he spotted the Dominion delegation. Their Trade Network Association had done wonders for Midlonian exports of tea and manufactured goods and pottery ware around Sol and even beyond.

Hillcrest waiting until a polite lull in conversation occurred before bowing politely with all the airs and graces of a gentleman. “How nice it is to see members of the Largent, Dominion and Skeelzanian governments here at this gathering. It’s nice to hear some familiar names, if not faces. Daniel Hillcrest. Minister for Foreign, Colonial and Economic Affairs. This is Elder Diplomat Daniel Dyer.” The old man next to him bowed a little, and promptly downed most of his own flute glass. “It’s always good to find other members of the TNA here to meet with the Steel Empire. They have a rather sizable internal economy that has yet to be utilized by many states and their companies.” He smiled warmly before taking a very small sip of his drink. Only giving a momentary side-glace to the towering Skeelzanian.

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

“Ah, a pleasure, sir, a pleasure,” Bernardo offered, again making the obligatory introductions. “So we’ve heard, I’d likely not have been invited to such a gathering. I hope the trip was a pleasant one for you gentlemen?”

“I take it you’re familiar with the honorable Senator Byron Fisk of Crimmond, Ambassador Freiherr von Sebeksberg of Skeelzania, Captain von Zemstaldt and Lieutenant Temur Drachenson of the same, and Duke von Bismark of Largent?” Calabrese injected smoothly, gesturing to each in turn. “We were just commenting on the rather amazing ability of the Steel Empire in maintaining such a world-wide cityscape with no visible ill-effect. Quite the impressive bit of engineering and architecture.”

[Midlonia]

“Yes, it is indeed something. I’m mostly alarmed at an entire planet being a single city, no natural green spaces with which to find a moment of solace. Just more and more of endless city with which to stress onself out.” he quirked a smile nodding to the other delegates with his graceful way and taking another, minute sip from his flute.

“But then I am biased. I get a grace and favour estate in the Field of Dreams like any other Minister of State. Members of Parliament get a house for the duration of their MP-ship too out there.” He shrugged slightly. “So I’m more used to rolling fields, even travelling, then something quite like this.” He looked out of the city. “It reminds me of Manhattan in NYNJ. A little on top of itself and bustling. Very alive. But no way of truly relaxing either.”

[Largent]

"My goodness Minister. How very elvish of you," Bismark jabbed good-naturedly, as he returned to the group, having fetched something to drink. "I, personally, see it in a very different light. Not long ago I boarded a ship and travelled incomprehensible distances to visit the Orion Empire. Had I disembarked to find nothing more exotic than the very same greenery I have come to know so well on Earth, I would have been entirely disappointed. I look upon this city with excitement. Take my beverage for example." He held up his glass, twirling the mysterious liquid inside. "I haven't the faintest idea what this is. I'm told it's quite popular amongst the locals. I have every intention of experiencing the local flavor, both literal and figurative, while I am here."

With that he took a sip. Compared to the minister's sips it was really more of a swig. He paused a moment before offering a charming smile. "Unique," was his only commentary. "As for relaxation, I find it meditative to become nothing more than a single drop in a sea of humanity... But that's just me."

[Skeelzania]

The Skeelzanians nodded politely as they were introduced to the Midlonians. While the older two both noticed the sidelong glance, only von Zemstaldt could take a guess at it. Iskander had retired to the life of a merchant prince and diplomat, but Jeska had remained within the Sternmarine. She still had access to the classified naval histories of the Sternreich, something she had taken advantage of before departing to Orion. The Midlonians had little more than a footnote, but it was still a footnote within the archives of the Arkadian misadventures in Sol. They would bear watching.

“It is hardly the preserve of Elves to desire a bit of elbow room,” said Sebecksberg to Bismark. “There isn’t a Skeelzanian lord who doesn’t wish to retire to his estates at least once a year. I myself keep a small manor in the highlands of Mahon, and am grateful every day that the Immigration Boards has seen fit not to drop five hundred thousand colonists on my doorstep.”

“Likewise, my own world is still immensely lush,” added von Zemstaldt. “Though Feerott owes much to the fact that it is largely swampland. Very popular among hunters and agriculturists, but difficult to put an arcology on.”

“The Skeelzanian people owe it to the nobility that there are still such wild tracts within the Sternreich,” continued Sebeksberg. “Without us, prime hunting grounds would have been paved with factories. At least a quarter of Solomon is set aside, with the remainder split between ranching and the Skeelzot metropolis. So I suppose the people have ranchers to thank as well.”

[Midlonia]

"Then my dear Duke we shall agree to disagree." Hilcrest smiled. "Perhaps you are correct. I am being a little closed minded.” He peered at the glass the Duke held. “Goodness me that looks like washing up liquid in that glass. Certainly something a little exotic…”

He glanced out to the city again. “Of course one has to wonder at the ecological damage caused by such a thing to the planetary sphere itself. How on earth is the atmosphere maintained? Such a multitude of questions left for better and more scientifically minded people I am sure.” He nods to the Skeelzanians as they speak. “Of course. I have heard of such protective measures being taken in a number of places, based on the simple need of people wanting green spaces. Seems to be a natural impulse for many. I highly doubt we’ll ever be able to cover the continent claimed in our joint colonization venture with The Commonwealth on the planet Delta. Vast and lush place that.”

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

The bantering back and forth elicited a bit of a grin from Calabrese and a soft chuckle from Bernardo. “We all have our preferences, no?” the former commented, giving his wife a suggestive wink. “It should be interesting to see what the Empire has planned for our visit. Its been years since we had a representative present, and I too am looking forward to experiencing what they have to offer. Ladies, if I might retrieve you some refreshments?”

With nods and murmured assent, the two women accepted, and Calabrese made his exit to go do just that, leaving the other three with the growing group of conversationalists.

Bernardo of course, simply had to take the opportunity to interject some trade talk. “Well then I’ll simply have to sample as well. I regret I don’t have some of our own labels to offer as a counterpoint – at least not in my pockets.”

[Skeelzania]

"I would find it impossible to enjoy any polite drink under weather such as this. Still haven't worked off the chill from the landing pad, and do I believe that the consumption of alcohol has something of a deletrious effect on body temperature." Sebeksberg grinned at Bernardo. "Perhaps when the conference adjourns I could send word for the Burgundian to send down drinks, or even better have us retire aboard the ship itself. In addition to my own private stock, the Burgundian is as well stocked as any dreadnought within the Skeelzanian fleet."

Zemstaldt's eyes became riveted to the back of Sebeksberg's head. "I think it would be best to check with the Admiral first, Ambassador, before subjecting others to our hospitality."

"I'm sure Admiral Talbot wouldn't mind sharing some of his drink. But noted, Captain. It would be best to make sure he brought something other than gin."

Belatedly detecting a note of objection in Zemstaldt's tone, the Skeelzanian ambassador turned to face her with a shamed expression. "I beg your forgiveness, Captain. And you as well, Lieutenant. Do not let me dictate your consumption this fine evening."

Shaking her head, Zemstaldt glanced at the hopeful youth next to her. "No insult, Ambassador. I do not think we will be partaking in drinks just yet, either. Best to keep our heads clear for when the Orions get down to business."

"Yes, business. The ostensible purpose of this summit." Smiling again, Sebeksberg turned back to the group at large. "The Star Empire of Orion is virtually legendary within the Sternreich. We have only fragmented records of great conflicts spanning this Quadrant, of great deeds and ominous acronyms. I am not shamed to say that I am operating practically in the dark, in regards to what the Sternreich and Orion can offer each other. Personally I am rather proud of recent breakthroughs in subatomic particle manipulation, breakthroughs I hope to see exported.”

As one of these “breakthroughs” involved the suppression and subsequent destruction of an atom’s constitute particles, and was on the verge of becoming the latest Skeelzanian anti-ship armament, Captain von Zemstaldt was again frowning at the back of Sebeksberg’s head.

“Regarding the Orions,” he said with a nod to Hillcrest. “Their intense urbanization would imply access and expertise in technologies sorely lacking with Skeelzania. I would not be at all surprised to find that this abysmal chill is the result of weather control.

“Do the rest of you hope the squeeze anything particularly flash out of our honored hosts?”

[Crimmond]

Fisk had contented himself with listening and watching the room, falling back into habits from his previous career. The Skeelzanian's words brought his attention though. "The technology on display here are meaningless sideshows, to me. My purpose is quite singular..." He said, not turning back towards the group. He was instead looking out at the city-scape. "I'm here to bring the Steel Empire back to Earth... to bring them home."

He turned slowly and chuckled. "You see, there was once an alliance... Steel Butterfly was it's leader. And I'm not talking the GDODAD. No, I'm talking about Midnight. It was based in Russia and the Eastern Bloc... Now there are only three members left. Out of a dozen key figures. Crimmond, Sigma Octavus and the Steel Empire. It's long past time that the last Knights of Midnight rode together again."

[Steel Butterfly]

“They seem to be getting along well,” Eric Esthar, Director of Public Relations, remarked, slowly sipping from his water glass. The three representatives of the Orion Star Empire, more commonly know as the Steel Empire or simply Steel Butterfly, remained somewhat distant from their guests, allowing the waiters and staff to work their magic. It was imperative to the Orions that guests were treated royally, and it was believed that without comfort, friendly and productive interaction would be all but impossible.

“Diplomats smile over dinner and scowl behind closed doors,” Victor Braddock muttered. The Director of State Affairs seemed to be the only one scowling in the entire ballroom.

“I suppose you always like to buck the trends,” General Jack Valkare quipped. Valkare’s drink, a whiskey-scotch blend mixed with ginger ale and a hint of lime, was at once both rough and sophisticated, mirroring the General himself.

“Mr. Esthar is here for the social coddling,” Braddock snipped. “I keep my mouth shut until the actual work begins.”

“Behind closed doors, of course,” Esthar chuckled. “Where irritability is expected, and one can scowl away.”

“It beats the dishonesty hiding behind each one of their smiles,” Braddock replied, but by then, Jack and Eric had already begun making their way towards the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Eric Esthar announced to the guests, loud enough for everyone to hear but neither overbearing nor unnecessary. “Welcome to Monarch Heights, the capital city of Steel Butterfly and all of the Orion Star Empire.” He paused, waiting for them to turn and face him. “My name is Eric Esthar, like the planet, and I am the Emperor’s Director of Public Relations.” He smiled an award winning smile that was both brilliant and genuine. This was his theatre and he thrived on it. Like the courtrooms in the capital in his former job as a lawyer, Eric’s best presentations were on the biggest stages. He motioned towards Valkare.

“With me tonight are General Jack Valkare, Commander in Chief of the Imperial Military and hero of the Orion Civil War, as well as Victor Braddock, the Director of State Affairs who will be joining us shortly,” Eric continued. “The goal of this weekend’s events are simple: to acquaint you with the Empire in hopes to inspire you to join with us in our economic growth. It is often said that together we can achieve much more that we can on our own, and after this weekend I certainly hope that we are able to put that theory to the test.”

“However,” Eric explained. “I am certain that you have all had a long voyage, and I do believe that a good meal should precede any good discussion. Waiters should be around to take requests, and all meals will be made by our finest chef upon request. Feel free to order what you like, including recipes if necessary, and if by chance our chefs do not have an ingredient native to your nations, we will try and use the closest alternative.” With that, waiters appeared to every party in order to take meal requests. “I want to make this experience as comfortable as possible for all of you. That being said, if you are of the adventurous type and wish to sample some traditional Orion dishes, a menu can be provided upon request as well.”

“During dinner,” Eric remarked, “We invite any questions you can think of pertaining to the Empire’s culture, landscape, history, or whatnot. I only ask that you refrain from discussing policy and other serious matters until after. It usually goes against tradition in Orion to have ‘working meals,’ especially in matters of state.”

With that, Eric and Valkare sat down at one end of a massive circular table. The middle of the table was cut out, along with one portion of the circle as well, allowing waiters and waitresses to move silently in the middle while discussion went on around them. Begrudgingly, Victor Braddock made his way to the table as well, sitting beside the general.