Jovan: Diplomatic Incidentals

[Kyryanu Sevon]

"I have."

The memory was still a fresh one, if not mundane.

"It was much of the same, to be honest," she admitted.

One hand came up then, to dust an unseen speck from her shoulder, fingers brushing over the stiff fabric of her own light grey suit.

"I've also been in contact with Jovan's second in command, to ensure that we are given a smooth transition to our new lodgings. I was assured that they are ready for you and your staff."

It was a small thing she knew, but the ability to integrate with as little fuss as possible usually allowed a better degree of civility moving forward. In her experience at least, that was the nature of things. That they were dealing now with the Alliance as a formal government had not escaped her attentions, and Sevon had done her best to take that fact into account.

"So far, I'd say that this is a very by-the-books appointment, were it not for the bantha in the room, of course. I'll admit my dealings with the Alliance are haphazard at best, Sir."

A hint of a smile, accompanied by the barest of self-deprecating chuckles that left with an exhaled breath.

"It's a first for a lot of us here, I imagine."

[Gilad Harth]

"As you and I know very well, the first time is often the most dangerous. What we do here might very well set precedent for future interactions."

Harth looked at the ceiling in thought.

"Perhaps we shall one day be cited in support of future diplomats' actions."

He looked back to his colleague.

"Or possibly in criticism."

He considered this for a moment. In oddly reflective mood he asked, "Would you rather fame or infamy?"

[Kyryanu Sevon]

The hinted smile diminished somewhat as his words seemed to strike a chord. But, the professional mask remained throughout, and Sevon maintained her precise posture as she met her superior's eyes.

"Sadly, I am all too familiar with infamy." The curse placed on her family by her brother's rancid insanity had stained what had once been a noble and proud name.

"I like to think that I am only just now clawing my way out of its' shadow, but time will tell."

She gave a slight nod then in respect.

"I would certainly not mind fame for a change, if that answers your question."

[Gilad Harth]

Harth was, of course, familiar with his deputy's history. The Corps maintained detailed files on all its officers and everyone with whom they came in contact. As head of mission, he had access to those files and had read up extensively on all of his staff. Clearly, the reports were correct that this was a sore point. Useful to know though it was unclear whether this was a problem or an opportunity.

"Generally, I believe diplomats are considered to have failed if they are either." He paused and then added, "Though I should always hope we would be judged in all cases on the basis of our own actions."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

Her gloved right hand reached up to delicately scratch at an itch on the side of her nose.

"It's a blessing," a strange, thoughtful pause before she finished, "... and a curse, I suppose."

Sevon let her eyes close then, head dipping ever so slightly as both hands moved to clasp at the small of her back. There was the slightest of shudderings that rumbled the deck beneath their feet, a sign that they had commenced the final docking procedures.

"Any last words... ?"

There was a hint of strange, almost rueful emotion in those words, to signify the strange weight that they all - especially Mr. Harth - no doubt found themselves bearing.

[Gilad Harth]

There was the clang of docking clamps engaging.

"I hope the receiving line isn't too long."

As words to commence a mission they would not, he thought, go down in the chronicles of the service but they had the desired effect raising a half smile from those who heard them.

With a hiss, the hatch before them opened.

[Kes Akiena]

The entirety of Spire Four had been emptied of non-essential personnel, leaving only the commend staff to greet the Imperial delegation. As the shuttle had settled down onto its' struts, Kes stole a glance to his K'ohta'rrou for but a moment. It was a fleeting look that soon enough returned to the now-lowering boarding ramp.

Giving a slight incliniation of his head, the redhead was rewarded with a satisfying pop. With both hands clasped at the small of his back, he waited patiently for their new guests to make the trek down the ramp.

His first impression of Gilad Harth had been genial enough, but only time would tell whether the two could work together. He'd received all of the necessary personnel files and briefings, and his team had been meticulous in making sure that the quarters allotted to their new Imperial representatives were as ready as ever.

His shoulders hitched back, and Kes lifted his chin ever so slightly as he waited for the inevitable.

[Gilad Harth]

Harth counted to fifteen in his head to allow the hydraulic and pneumatic discharges of the ramp mechanism to run their course. Then he counted to ten from the final discharge to allow the vapours to dissipate. He had not desire to make his entrance as through a dry ice fog like some pop star.

When he reached the end of the count he stepped forth and advanced down the ramp. He passed across the deck plates and came to a halt. His staff trailed behind him in order of seniority and took up a position a few paces to the rear.

He had stopped at a point that was calibrated to indicate willingness to meet his opposite number without going to so far as to seem a supplicant.