Britannia-Anagonia Conference

[Reformed Britannia]

The Summer Palace in Kensington was alive with a frenzy of activity. The palace was being prepared to greet foreign diplomats from a nation that Britannia had only just established ties with-Anagonia. The nation was many times Britannia's size from the looks of things, and it would be important to make a good first impression.

Servants dusted off the marble busts of previous Britannian statesmen that lined the hallways leading into the conference room, and made a point of polishing the elegantly crafted statues of former Britannian monarchs which appeared every now and then in the hallways. The conference table itself was gleaming, and it was made certain that the antique chairs looked impressive-well, as impressive as chairs could be given the circumstances. Soldiers of the Horse Guards, dressed in their scarlet-red tunics and gleaming ceremonial helmets, stood rigidly at attention outside the room, their deadly R2 Service Rifles held over their right shoulders. The men themselves were as motionless as the statues in the hallways, and were renowned throughout the realm for their discipline.

The man who would be meeting with the foreign diplomats was Charles Ferguson, a man with a good deal of experience in the field of diplomacy. He did not know what to expect from these Anagonian diplomats, but he sincerely hoped he wouldn't offend them in some way.

[Himue]

And how exactly do we RP this???

[Anagonia]

Tag. Post incoming soon.

[Anagonia]

A C-20C Gulfstream III military transport aircraft soared through the skies towards its destination. Beside it were two F-35A Lightning II's with fuel pods for the long trip, providing protection for the precious cargo on the Gulfstream. They had come a long distance from the Confederacy, stopping at one of the colonies to refuel and then heading directly for Britannia. Once the Gulfstream was to land it was hoped that the local military would allow the JSF's to stay until the Gulstream departed. That would be dependent on what they thought was necessary and thankfully the F-35's could make it back to Neptuna with some fuel to spare.

Looking through the window, Confederate President Jason Paladin enjoyed the view of the ocean below. He couldn't recall a time when he had gone out of country besides when he visited the two colonies. It was an exciting and relieving experience, especially after the debacle with the embargo situation. Thankfully the Vice President had done his constitutional duty and corrected the situation before it got out of hand. Jason had to literally convince the Confederate Congress that he wouldn't do another fuck up like that again. He was relieved they allowed him to represent the People on this diplomatic mission. It would be his repentance for almost getting the Confederacy completely whipped from the face of the earth.

A flight attendant came to him in his VIP seat, he gazing at her to note her Ensign uniform of the Navy and gave her a smile. "Mr. President," she said, "We're entering Brittannia airspace now. We should be landing anytime."

"Very good," he responded. "Do you mind if I could have another tea please?"

The woman smiled, "Absolutely." Going off to fill the request.

In the cockpit of the Gulfstream the pilot switched frequencies and initiated contact with the airport which he was supposed to land from. "Attention, this is Gulfstream Military Two Niner with Fighter escort, we request permission to land with VIP on board. We'd also like permission for the fighters to land to refuel and be allowed to park. Over."

[Himue]

okay

[Reformed Britannia]

The air traffic control tower soon responded to the plane's query, and a cheerful-sounding voice crackled over the radio.
"Two-Niner, you and your fighter escorts are welcome to land. We request that you land on Runway Four, while the fighters may land on Runway Five. There, they will be met by RBAF ground crews who will set about re-fueling their aircraft. Good day, and welcome to Britannia."

As the message was sent, the RBAF crews in place on Runway Five got ready to receive the incoming fighters. Several LY910 Shadowhawk fighters were kept at Runway Five-mostly for show as this was not a military airport, but there were still maintenance crews assigned to them. The crews prepared to refuel the landing fighters with all the efficiency they could muster, as they had been trained to do.

[Anagonia]

The Pilot responded casually but respectfully. "Tower this is Two-Niner, all instructions understood and thank you for the welcome."

The two fighters split off in a remarkably well done aerial maneuver. Both went in opposite directions then went under and over the Gulfstream to form up in a line to begin landing procedures. Making extreme efforts to ensure that their formation would allow for both aircraft to land, they lined up close together and came in on Runway Five. Extending their landing gear the lead F-35 touched down followed shortly by the second, both throttling down and after their deceleration they followed the directions into their designated parking positions. Both pilots would exit their fighters at the same time, eager to see the crews at work as they began post-flight inspection.

The Gulfstream would make a smooth landing as well. It's trajectory was lined up perfectly with Runway Four. After the show the fighters put on for the President as he watched them move perfectly to either side of the Gulfstream then down to their designated runway, he observed casually the ground coming slowly closer and finally a gentle bump as the Gulfstream landed, following directions to its designated parking spot. Having just finished his tea Jason Paladin thanked the flight attendant whom then opened the door for the President, he starting to walk down the steps to take in the view of the new surroundings. Behind him came the co-pilot, whom was dressed in his pilot uniform. Unbeknown to most he was the assigned protector of the President. A trained Military Policeman hiding in civilian clothing.

They both shook hands and exchanged a few words. The President smiling as he looked towards the fighters and saw they had made a safe landing. Making sure his outfit was up to par with professional standards he waited patiently to see if anyone would see him or if he would have to travel on foot.

[Reformed Britannia]

Transport had of course been arranged; however, it was taking a little longer than expected. The chauffeur had run into some traffic on his way to the airport and was only just arriving as the President stepped off the plane; the chauffeur saw how late he was-by Britannian standards, anyhow-and quickly moved to compensate for his mistake. He pulled out onto the runway, as there were no other planes coming in, and waited for the President and his entourage to get into the limousine.

Once they did, it would only be a short drive to the Palace; they were already on the outskirts of Kensington, so the palace was probably only about 5 kilometres away.

[Anagonia]

After actually having a chance to discuss matters with the fighter pilots Jason Paladin noticed the limousine pull up. He smiled as the pilots gave a salute, he saluting back and watching them return to watch the crews service their planes. The Co-pilot followed the President as Jason entered the vehicle provided, the co-pilot entering last. They watched the scenery around them pass and noted just how congested the city streets was. It was no wonder the limo was late. Jason felt for the driver, making no mention or showing any irritation whatsoever due to the incident.

Once the Limo pulled up to the Summer Palace Jason was to exit with his guard. He stopped just short of formally walking into the palace as he once again followed protocol and waited to be seen. It would be rude if he just barged in, especially if they had some kind of greet already prepared!

[Reformed Britannia]

As the President approached the palace doors, they gracefully opened thanks to the two Horse Guards who had been stationed there as 'greeters'. The two men snapped off a crisp military salute, their faces remaining expressionless. Their scarlet uniforms were completely spotless; every Horse Guard on duty had to have an impeccable uniform.

"Right this way, sir," one of the Horse Guards said, and motioned for the president to follow.
As the guests entered the main hall, they would be met with a brilliant sight. The palace walls were decorated with precious works of art, and the hallways leading into the ballroom were lined with statues of great Britannians; generals, diplomats, kings, queens, princes, and famous soldiers. The hallway was blanketed with a beautiful Gathustrian carpet, which splendidly displayed a scene from ancient Gathustrian mythology. At the end of the hallway, there was a single door; the guards pushed open the double doors that led into the ballroom where the conference was to be held, which were gilded at the hinges.

The windows along the ballroom were made of extremely high-quality, crystal clear glass; it would be almost impossible to tell that there was glass there in the first place unless one went up and touched the windows, they were so clean. The curtains hanging above the windows and drawn to the sides were made of fine red velvet, and embroidered with gold thread. The walls of the ballroom itself were panelled with opulent amber backed with gold leaf, and there were aprecious stones inlaid into the ceiling-Tokugawan sapphires, Cyrupean diamonds, Gathustrian rubies; as the light came through the windows, they refracted off the gemstones, creating a beautiful visual effect that was very pleasing to the eye-and yet not too bothersome.

In the centre of it all, there was a teak table where Ferguson sat. Rising from his chair, he smiled and spoke to the new arrivals.
"Greetings, sir. I am Charles Ferguson, and I wish to personally welcome you to Britannia for this conference." Ferguson made a sweeping gesture with his hand, rotating slightly so that the gesture encompassed the ballroom.