Capitol Airport, Port Pierce, Tenburg
Colin McNamara always hated the press.
And now, here he was, standing at attention, being forced to stare right at them in their droves, as the engines of the massive plane rolling in behind him came closer and closer, then stopped just in time to spare his ear drums from explosion. His shoes were shined to perfection, his medals, buttons, and helmet gleaming in the sun. It was all for the best; Tenburg's relationship with Elesar, while not historically old, like that with Acronius, was strong, having been forged in the fires of both the Zangara conflict and the Second Great War. This visit in itself was critical, as the relations between Elesar and Stasnov were rapidly deteriorating.
A voice came alive in his ear. "Lieutenant, they're rolling the stairs now."
"Roger," he replied softly, then looked to his left, to the other members of the Motorcycle Brigade. "Riders, mount," he ordered, then looking to his motorcycle, and straddling it, sitting down on the low seat. He cracked his stiff neck, then looked up at the absolutely massive Elesarian plane. As the staircase rolled up underneath the port-side front door, it slowly opened. At the base of the staircase, members of all three military branches stood at attention, surrounded sparsely by a security detail; of course, there was plenty more that couldn't be seen. As the limo and its flanking cars rolled up, the flashing of cameras began behind them, anticipating the Emperor's appearance.