A State Dinner [FT][CLOSED][ATTN SOLONT]

[Hypatian Commonwealth]

Palace of Northminster, Northminster, Hellas Province, Hellantean League, Mars, Sol System

An invitation had been sent by the State Department at the behest of Her Majesty's Government. The palace was inundated with staff and preparations were quickly underway. A large table had been assembled and set in the Crystal Hall of the West Wing. An assortment of foods was being prepared to taste for their august guests who would be arriving shortly. A motorcade of cars had pulled into the crescent driveway and the Prime Minister exited alongside many other government officials. It was a State Dinner and the Solonti were the guests.

For a choice of venue, Northminster could serve no better function. The palace was a large structure with many courtyards and spires. It became the beating heart of government, the very centre of an empire in all but name. Its neo-gothic architecture and presence on the north bank of the Hebrides river was a sight to behold for any interested in its history. The structure had been rebuilt three times after fire and war, and expanded on considerably under the reign of Nerys the Great. What began as a modest manor had become the symbol of the city of Northminster.

.H..M..G. Her Majesty's Government of the Hypatian Commonwealth STATUS : ENCRYPTED; Security of Communication Act, Section 5.3 VERIFICATION : Verified by State Security Intelligence Check — Token [REDACTED] Sen : 7500 Hebrides Road, Palace of Northminster, Northminster; Crown Office of Communications — Key [REDACTED][REDACTED] Rec : Federation of Solont This is an official communication from the State Department of the Hypatian Commonwealth as forwarded by the Crown Office of Communications. Unauthorised access, transmission, reproduction, or duplication of this communication will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Invitation to a State Dinner To whom it may concern, Her Majesty's Government has taken an interest in facilitating stronger ties with the Federation of Solont over matters of trade and mutual economic interests. Thus, Her Majesty's Government has extended an invitation to Solont to attend a formal State Dinner at the Palace of Northminster on Mars. As this is a formal occasion, such dress appropriate to such a venue will be required. The Solonti delegation will be meeting with representatives of Her Majesty's Government including Prime Minister Cora Marie Rowland and Her Majesty Tristan of Mars.

[Solont]

’To Whom It May Concern’

Scarce were the occasions when receiving a letter addressed thusly was a portent of good tidings, at least those that General Ahrisi Nicole could remember. She held the piece of paper in her hands and gave it another quick scan, not that she couldn’t have recited it from memory given the number of times she’d reviewed it in the days previous, and allowed herself the luxury of a small smile as she reflected that this was one of those occasions that broke the mold. The missive was a happy surprise. It hadn’t been delivered physically, of course; like most interstellar communication, it had been sent digitally. Still, she appreciated the feathery weight of the printed transcript in her hand. The sensation grounded her, and reminded her of the gravity and realness of everything she and her people did.

The invitation extended by the Hypatian Commonwealth had set in motion a flurry of activity for the comparatively tiny nation of Solont. Inquiries had to be asked. Research had to be performed. Plans and itineraries had to be drafted. Teams had to be formed, and preparations had to be made. The letter alone wasn’t the end of it, after all; it was only the turn that opened the door. For the past several days, the SDF Diplomatic Corps had been in almost constant contact with the Hypatian government as they discussed the details of Solont’s appearance and representation at the discussed state dinner: who was attending, how they would be traveling, what their dietary requirements were, etcetera, etcetera. Gen. Nicole had to give no small amount of credit to her team who’d organized everything. It hadn’t been easy, especially with the unfolding ‘incident’ with the GRA still dominating the Corps’ focus. She’d personally seen them sprint breathlessly from one side of the staff headquarters to the other and back as they scrambled to try and put it all together, but in the end everything clicked into place. You’d never know, looking at it from the outside, that it wasn’t just an easy practiced formality. Piece of cake. Done it a million times before.

The guest list had been the most pressing part of the whole endeavour, with every potential selection having its own considerations, but eventually it had been winnowed down to three individuals.

There was herself, of course. General Ahrisi Nicole. Human, dusky skin, straight and darkly sanguine coloured hair, dark green eyes. She was younger than her rank implied -- most everyone was these days, especially in the Diplomatic Corp -- and cut a crisp figure in her neatly tailored ceremonial dress uniform. She liked the gold filigree adorning her shoulders, even if she wouldn’t admit that openly. Her attendance was almost a given; as leader of the branch of the SDF responsible for interacting with the rest of the civilized galaxy, she was trusted to act and decide in such matters on behalf of the whole of the Solonti Federation. Besides, the Hypatian head of state was going to be there. There were only a handful of heartbeats between Gen. Nicole and leadership of the entirety of Solont; sending anyone of lesser rank might’ve been an insult.

Then there were her pair of plus ones.

ALTA was the first. She was a civil AI whose role was to manage the infrastructure of Chaléur Alto, one of Solont’s largest cities, and she accompanied General Nicole now in her custom designed avatar body shaped as an elegant white-furred Neolune, or mink. For her, being selected to represent the mercantile interests of the Coalition of Aertolian Republics was a gift and reward. Though her core remained safely ensconced within the mainframes at the heart of Chaléur Alto, the opportunity to see another part of the galaxy through the eyes and ears of a remotely inhabited shell was a rare privilege that she had been rather profusely grateful for.

The other was Prince Peter Cellaigne, recommended by his father, Duke Cellaigne of the Duchy of Crell Monferaigne, who had in turn been recommended by Empress Iria Selacìe of the Alliance of Imperial Selacìen Protectorates. He was a young kitsune man whose unassuming ruddy brown fur and hair contrasted with his striking noble attire and his cocky and confident manner. He possessed, as General Nicole noted, that air of youthful invincibility that only someone who hadn’t experienced the First Contact War firsthand could possess, though to his credit, it was not his nobility that spared him but his age. He was a boy when the war ended, and the capricious randomness of orbital debris trajectories meant his home had been spared most of the hardship. Now, he was a young man trusted to represent the various merchants, associations, cooperatives, guilds, and royal concerns that fell under the umbrella of the Eastern continent.

Ahrisi had been assured he’d comport himself with both grace and competence. Time would tell if that would prove true, but even if her faith was unfounded, she was sure he couldn’t do too much damage. Nothing that she couldn’t smooth over, anyways. Besides, their hosts deserved to see Solont represented truthfully, in all of its myriad and, at times, incongruous ways.

She tucked the invitation letter back into her briefcase and allowed herself a moment to stare out the window, as both ALTA and Peter had done since entering the car. It was a substantial drive from the oceanside pier where their executive shuttle floated, safely moored, to Northminster Palace, but it was an opportunity to see the Five Cities Metropolitan area. ALTA nearly had her face pressed up against the glass as she drank in the sights of the city and its alien architecture passing by. Peter, on the other hand, kept staring upwards.

“And they say this whole planet was terraformed from a bone-dry airless desert. I can scarcely believe it,” He said. The brightest stars above were beginning to shine in the fading evening sun, even with the interfering city lights beginning to switch on.

“Remarkable, really. I also wonder how they did it with a planet so small,” Ahrisi replied. It was the parks, green spaces, and snippets of nature that caught her eye during the drive. She wondered if the animals and plants had been imported from Earth, or from another world, or genetically engineered from scratch. She wasn’t well traveled enough to be able to tell either way; it was something she hoped to rectify someday.

The scenery made the long drive pass quickly, though, and before they’d had their fill, the sight of the towering spires of Northminster Palace filled the skyline.

Peter let loose a low whistle, impressed. Some things, it seemed, were universal; the edifice of the Palace reminded him just a little of his own castle, back in Crell Monferaigne. Not that he would ever admit that Northminster’s size made his own digs look rather cottage-esque in comparison, mind.

The car ground to a halt, and a crisp and formally dressed Hypatian guard opened the door, allowing the three Solonti occupants to make their exit. It had been a long journey, of three days and some dozens of lightyears, but at last they’d arrived. General Nicole adjusted her hat, and strode forward confidently to the stately reception there to receive them, with Peter and ALTA flanking her. Their dress was hardly congruent; ALTA wore just a simple but elegant vermillion gown, and Peter was adorned in the complicated and neatly tailored collection of epaulettes and ruffles typical of old-world aristocracy, and both stood in stark contrast to the uncomplicated, crisp, squared-off and professional look of Ahrisi’s blue and white naval dress uniform. Yet, they all walked together in synchronized step, eyes forward and confident. Despite everything, they looked like they belonged together.

“Our gracious hosts,” Ahrisi said, her tone level and courteous. She’d practiced this a million times in her head, “In answering your generous invitation, I present myself, General Ahrisi Nicole, Chief of the Solont Defence Force Diplomatic Corps, as well as Prince Peter Cellaigne of the Duchy of Crell Monferaigne, and ALTA, representing the City of Chaléur Alto and the Coalition of Aertolian Republics. On behalf of all the people of Solont, we thank you for your hospitality.”

The three Solonti closed their eyes, smiled, and executed a deep and flawless formal Hypatian bow.

[Hypatian Commonwealth]

Northminster glowed with an otherworldly quality in the evening shadow as the palace's soft lights illuminated its features. The Great Fountain which took centre stage of the crescent driveway beamed with light as well, its waters becoming silver and glistening under the trees. As the staff assisted their guests, the hosts of the dinner were already at the steps and eagerly awaiting their introductions. Rowland sported a black and elegant dress slim to her figure with her hair in black curls that hung by her face. The Empress stood beside her in a white uniform quiet and reticent. Other members of the government had flanked them and they were all stalked by the men who shadowed them -- State Security.

"Well met and thank you for accepting our invitation," Rowland stepped forward, giving a polite bow as was customary in the Commonwealth. She stepped aside and, with a hand out towards Tristan, slid her fingers into hers as the Empress stepped forward. It was evident this was a choreographed display, unique to Hypatian customs for some manner, as Tristan took a slightly shallower bow but said nothing. Instead, it was Rowland who would make the introductions. "I am Prime Minister Cora Rowland, and this is Her Majesty, Empress Tristan of the Martians," she spoke with a wide smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, General Ahrisi Nicole and Your Excellence, if you may allow me to address you as such, Prince Peter," Tristan greeted. Rowland stepped aside and gestured for their guests to come inside.

"We've prepared a wonderful dinner with refreshments, I am sure that you're all peckish after your trip but we are very happy to have you here," the PM spoke. The Crystal Hall of the West Wing was decorated with crystal chandeliers that hung high above them. A table had been set with fine silver and staff stood at either side ready to tend to the Hypatians and Solonti. Rowland spent time talking about the history of the palace, and answering questions about the Commonwealth as they made their final transit to the aforementioned venue.

[Solont]

“And it is our great honour and, dare I say, pleasure to be here, and to meet you both, Madame Prime Minister and Your Majesty! If I may be so bold, you both look absolutely radiant tonight,” Pete said, as the first to speak. Once the formal part of the introduction was deemed over (insofar as anything about this evening could be considered informal...), The young kitsune prince's entire countenance had illuminated with a boisterous warmth and wide smile, beaming with sincerity. “Any form of address is fine for me, as long as it isn't 'Pete,' ha ha!” the young man loquaciously explained. “Only my mother calls me Pete, and even then, only when she's angry with me”

General Nicole looked very slightly discomfited at the Selacìen prince's joviality, and there was a tinge of nervousness in her smile. It was less that she feared the young man would make an ass of himself and embarrass her and her country in front of their alien hosts; she'd already been extensively briefed on the MLCOA's and MDCOA's regarding that particular eventuality. Rather, she just wanted this to go well. The Marshall Island Courtship and the Lunari First Contact had been stunning successes for Solont that had absolutely vindicated the Supreme Commander's vision of a compassionate universe. Those were tough acts to follow; Ahrisi just wanted to do a good job.

“Indeed.” She smiled, and warmly stepped forward to grasp Rowland's hand in a pre-briefed, pre-scripted handshake, of the sort that wouldn't raise State Security's hackles. “Given the cordial nature of this occasion and the relative rank of those involved, I wouldn't think that a first-name basis would be out of line, at least on our end. You may call me Ahrisi if you like, Madame Prime Minister, and Your Majesty.”

“And I only have the one name!” ALTA chimed in excitedly. She already had a charming and distinctly informal air about her, as well, but she didn't inspire quite the same anxiety in Ahrisi that Peter did. The AI was a known quantity, and a trusted one at that. “You may expand out my acronym if you like. It's somewhat analogous to a title, but it's a bit of a mouthful.”

The Solonti trio allowed themselves to be led into the palace, and visibly marveled at its interior just as much as they had the facade. ALTA was smitten with the design and architecture of the place, and spent nearly the entire tour with her head craned upwards, and Peter hung on Rowland's every word as she laid out the Hypatian history. Ahrisi walked the tightrope, listening with polite focus, but interspersing the appropriate gaps in conversation with peppered and pointed questions about modern day Hypatian society.

“We're quite looking forward to this dinner,” She said, as they were led into the banquet hall. “In fact, we've assessed that food is going to be one of our biggest opportunities for cultural exchange. Resources and materials are abundant in the cosmos, but cuisine? Cuisine is unique.”

“Quite!” Peter chimed in. “They say you are what you eat, after all! Every bite is a product of history, every morsel a microcosm of tradition, every nugget a piece of our very identity! And, if I'm being entirely honest, I'm famished!”

“Not to mention the logistical mingling. Any Solonti restaurant on Mars would need a market to supply ingredients, an import office to supply the market, a port and customs liaison to help manage shipping, not to mention a chef to cook the meals in the first place,” ALTA counted off on her fingers as she ran through the chain on her head. “Which means immigrants. Which, of course, means immigrant services for language and legal support, which means an embassy or diplomatic mission of sorts. And, of course, the same is true for any Hypatian restaurant in Chaléur Alto! Our people are going to have so many opportunities to mix and get to know one another!” She clasped her hands together and beamed a wide, wide smile, and even let out a giddy little 'Eeee!' of joy as she imagined the possibilities. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun to set up!”