Ketsurui Yuumi took in the appearance of the conference table one last time.

The delegations for the nations for the third International Relations Conference were going to arrive within the hour. The conference room, near the center of Pisces Station, was round, walled with blue-grey starship paneling that seemed to soak up the white, natural lighting beamed down from black-rimmed lights in the ceiling. The thickly carpeted floor also was a Star Army blue-grey, cascading down the sloping circle outside the wooden floor that contained the main table.

That table was about 15 meters in diameter, built of dark-stained, smoothed oak free of knots and blemishes, and contained terminals and projectors for the delegates and their staff. A beverage dispenser was set behind each "area," with simple glass cups to catch one of the many liquids the dispenser could produce from a drip-spout. Each area also had projected above it a kind of electric-blue placeholder for each delegation.

A larger volumetric projector was at the center of the table, set into the massive, globe-like post that was between the table and the curling, reaching arms that gave the table balance.

The chairs were black, cushioned and very adjustable.

No banners. No streamers. No decorations of any sort were found anywhere on the station, outside of volumetric panels informing people where to go and providing information. Star Army personnel, hand-picked by her most valuable staffer, acted as escorts and guides.

Ketsurui Yuumi meant business. If the delegates wanted to party, they could go back to their rooms — set up with the comforts of home for each delegation. When the delegates and their staff stepped in this room, there would be no missteps. It would not be something publicly broadcast, though reporters could hound the delegates all they wanted in the public areas of the station.

The madness and bombastaic foolishness of the past two conferences would not happen on her watch. There were goals to meet. Goals that would guarantee, for now, the safety of the Empire's people. She could suffer the poking and jabbing of politicians who wanted to kick Yamatai when it was down. It was nothing compared to what she already had withstood, in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

One last look at the table. Yuumi nodded and turned away, walking out into the concourse, the blood red of her business suit — her personal "power suit" — catching a little of the duller blue-white light above.

With a thought, she engaged the long, flesh-toned mic that came from the earpiece in her right ear. "Everything in place?"

"Yes Premier," 33-year-old Tanaka Miki, Yuumi's chief deputy minister, said from her position near where the Nepleslian delegation was set to dock. "Nervous?"

Yuumi made sure the clips were holding her hair bangs back just so; she wanted to present an "open face" to the other delegations. "Immensely. I hear the Iroma delegate is a chauvinist sex pot. At least he's not Vanderhuge. That man makes me weak in the knees. I don't know how I'll ever make it through the introductions without dropping to the floor in an orgasmic puddle."

"Just think of Yamamoto," Miki replied, referring to Yuumi's middle-aged, balding Yamataian man, who was assistant deputy minister. "He's a cold shower in a suit."

"Hey, salarymen can be sexy too," Yuumi said as she walked to the Gartagen's arrival dock. "And he rides an airbike."

"Must be the airbike," Miki said, hints of laughter in her voice. "So does that mean I can have the Gartagen delegate? I don't need sex. I just want to touch his skin alllll day."

"I'll trade you to him for a barrel of retsina," Yuumi dryly replied. "You're probably not worth two barrels."

"See if I give you flowers on your birthday," Miki replied. A brief silence followed. "You think it will work out?"

"If it doesn't, we're gonna have a tough row to hoe. Keep your eyes on the prize."

"Yes ma'am," Miki said.

The waiting for arrivals began.

It was roughly twenty minuets after the banter that the Gartagen delegate arrived. Escorted by two figures, the one on her right was another female, one in the garb of the Union Navy, though the sash across her chest was very ornate and lined with gold (who was now disarmed) The young female creature stepped into the room. The Yamataians liked their rooms somewhat cold to what she was acclimated too. Vishta wore a rather ornate, and heavy looking robe over her relatively tiny frame. Her blue skin had sharp and jagged tribal styled tattoo running along the right side of her face and down her neck. Her thick hair was ornately jeweled. It was clear that this young Gartagen was very young, and freshly matured. “Heiwa to shinzen premier.” She said entering the polite Yamataian bow of the civilians.

“On behalf of my people I am honored to have received an invitation from our esteemed ally and friend.” Her voice was soft, but not high pitched or squeaky. Her body guard was in full Edjia armor, and stood behind her. Shee made no sudden moves, and acted to shadow and defend what was apparently a national treasure to the Gartagen Union.

Standing behind and to the right of the princess was another member of her entourage. He was dressed in the full Union naval uniform complete with fleet marshal pins, his hair was slicked back into a ponytail, but what really stood out was his complete lack of Gartagen features.

The nepleslian looking male would wait patiently, following the princess and her bodyguard, letting them speak for him. After all, Wazu knew his place in these negotiations.

A few moments after the Gartagen delegate and her retinue had arrived to the room, the Nepleslian delegation made their entrance. The first to arrive was Pyros Thrull Westwood, leading a short line of three. Right behind him was his mightiest general and military adviser, Flint Vanderhuge. Following last was a rather short, stout looking woman with curly blonde hair, a PR band tightly bound to her left arm. This middle-aged lady was Sheva Miles, Pyros' adjunct to the Public Relations Corps.

Pyros, much to Sheva's dismay, was in less than official garb. He was shirtless, with a heavy, standard-issue military coat draped over his shoulders. His legs wore khaki fatigues, stuffed in the standard issue boots of the Marine Corps. The only true regal part of the man was the cane he held, master-crafted with aspects and symbols of Nepleslian pride. The man had a mild grin on his face, seeing those present within the room. He was in a good mood.

Sheva moaned helplessly as she raised a hand.

"Please sir, put on a shirt in the least." begged Ms. Miles.

"Don't need shirts t'do no talkin'." said Pyros as he pulled back one of the chairs. He stopped only to bow to the Gartagen delegate, and then Yamataian delegate, "Ladies." He then threw short salutes to the remaining occupants of the room, "Gentlemen."

He was quick to plop down in his chair.

"Pyros Thrull Westwood. Premier, Sky Marshall, All-Around Dress Code violator. I'm here representin' the interests of the Democratic Imperium of Nepleslia." stated Pyros, throwing up a hand quickly to silence Sheva, just as she began to open her mouth. "My aides here is the Grand Admiral Flint Vanderhuge of our 1st Fleet, and the lovely lady is Sheva Miles, my PR Lady."

Sheva stiffened, before bowing to both delegations present.

"Flint, say 'Hi' to the nice people." said Pyros, smirking at the enormous ID-SOL of an Admiral, beckoning him forth.

“What do you mean I've got to attend the conference?” Spoke the rather scrawny Lorath male, who wore the blue with white trim armband of the New Tur'lista caste upon his dark gray Lorath Self Defense Force uniform.

There was a deep and audible sigh from the woman who stood in the airlock, a thick wrapping of herbs perched between her lips, trickling smoke into the air from its glowing ember tipped end. As she sighed out a plume of smoke, she brushed strands of loose hair away from her aged face before she took the Lorath made cigar out from between her lips and spoke; “Our High Priest has ordered a competent communications officer handle the task, you're it Dico, or would you prefer we left you on that rock, alone with the Sourcian woman?”

“To be honest, yes, at least she does not PLUCK my feathers!” Dico replied in utter agitation, even though he was promoted to Sub-Lieutenant, and given the hollowed out title of 'Diplomatic Representative', the poor man had been put through quite a bit of hardship, first at the slimy hands of Rebeka Renata, only to end up in the temporary assignment of serving as an aide to a former Senator, and persisting ambassador, Aegis.

Whiners... all of them really. Aegis thought to herself, before she presented Dico with a stern expression, a scowl which spoke volumes, she was not about to play games with the male. “I've only plucked your feathers when you've been argumentative, like right now. I don't care what you do after this conference, but for now, do your job and make sure that subspace relay remains fully operational.”

There was no argument to be had, Dico knew his job, even though he tended to gripe about it. In truth, his job was something kin to a herald really, a position of honor, which he could not help but to find to be a burden... he wanted a simpler life, a life which he had before being given the task of serving as an impromptu diplomat. “Yes Ambassador, I will do my job.” Dico assured Aegis, as he hefted a rather large suitcase sized object into his grasp, as he stepped in the direction of the airlock.

As Aegis turned to the airlock doors, in preparation for them to cycle and permit entry onto the station, she took a deep drag of her cigar as she thought of a silent prayer. She felt at a loss of just what to do... things just felt unclear since the death of the Xiaah, diplomacy felt hollow, like it was staving off what really needed to be done, tasks which needed to be fulfilled, and it left her wondering why the High Priest was even going to bother with the matter, but she also knew, it was not her place to question. While the Xiaah was dead, they still had a bridge to the Goddess in the form of the High Priest, and she was not about to argue divine mandate. As her brain tingled with stimulated receptors brought on by the contents of her cigar, the airlock doors of the Zahl-Class which transported her opened, and cycled in unison with the station airlock. “Let's go.” she spoke, gesturing for Dico and his package to follow, along with a two-woman escort comprised of a Fyunnen and a Lmanel. They were a procession of gray cloth accented with flashes of colored arm-bands and gleaming silver buttons. Dico, and the guards, wore field caps upon their heads, while Aegis wore a prominent peaked cap upon her head, which only served to further enhance her already impressive height.

“Yes Ambassador.” Came the reply from the trio, as they moved, and made their way to the conference room.

------

Shortly After The Nepleslian Arrival

Without a word, the Lorath Matriarchy cadre stepped into the conference room, as Dico set down his package behind the desk assigned to the group, and opened the already inspected case. As Dico worked, the ambassador went about pulling a cigar from a pocket beneath her uniform, which she perched between her lips as she lit it with a rather old-fashioned lighter. She took a heavy drag from it before breathing a firm exhale. She reached into her pocket and produced a small metal plate, which she set down upon the conference table, before perching her cigar upon it as she strode to the appropriate location to greet their host.

“Greetings on behalf of the Lorath Matriarchy.” Aegis spoke, as she delivered a short bowing gesture, somewhere between a Yamataian bow and a curtsey. “I would like to voice my satisfaction on the matter of you being our host, former Empress. A negotiating table is no place for a war machine, a former slave turned royalty, or a woman who can't maintain her dignity and refrain from popping out her young at an inopportune time.” as she spoke, the heavy scent of ashen herbs poured heavily from Aegis' smiling lips. “At this time though, Former Empress, I would like to indicate that my presence here is purely a formality, as a flesh-and-blood stand-by.” With that, Aegis gestured in the direction of the Matriarchy's seat.

Shit, shit, shit. Dico cursed in his thoughts, as he saw the gesture from Aegis. Server connection up, encrypted relay up, subspace laser cohesion at 99.8%, security safeguards online, volumetric projectors aligned, refresh rates synced, power... online. Dico thought, just as he flipped the switch on the case which he had brought into the conference room.

With the flip of the switch, well timed with Aegis' gesture, a volumetric projection of the Lorath High Priest, Velor 'Tomoe' Tur'lista, appeared, clad in a Lorath Self Defense Force uniform, which was draped over by a white cape, and perched upon his head was a peaked cap. “Greetings Former Empress Yuumi. I apologize for the nature of my appearance at this conference, however, while I recognized my need to be present, I also recognized the dangers involved at this time. I hope that the hollow nature of my presence will not negatively impact the proceedings.” There was one key thing, Velor did not bow, not in the slightest, but he did maintain eye-contact across the light-years, and even in the volumetric projection, it was clear that the Lorath ruler was troubled, it was clear in the stern expression upon his face.

With the appearance of the volumetric projection, Aegis stepped away and returned to the Matriarchy's section in the conference room, taking a seat beside the projection of the High Priest.

After presenting greetings to the former Empress, Velor's gaze went to the Nepleslian representatives. “Greetings Sky Marshall, it is good to see you.” the High Priest spoke, before the volumetric image him gave a nod of his head in greeting. His tone sounded far less stiff with the Nepleslian, than it did with the former Empress. With greetings to those currently gathered completed, the High Priest in the form of a projection went about waiting, while also communicating with Aegis and comparing notes.

While Velor and Aegis spoke to each other, Dico quietly left the room to go fetch the other two projector devices, intended for the other representatives which may come into play, to represent groups within the Matriarchy.

No sooner had Premier Westwood introduced him, Flint Vanderhuge appeared at the doorway behind Pyros. The Grand Admiral had to duck beneath the ridge as he entered, his massive height not accommodated by regular Yamataian design philosophy as he drew himself back up in a single slow stroke. The imposing ID-SOL was dressed in his full Grand Admiral regalia, his multitude of military awards making soft, subtle clinks on his chest with each breath as he surveyed the room grimly beneath the rim of his peaked hat.

Strapped across his chest and around his waist was a deep mahogany leather pistol belt, the holster for both the weapon as well as a sheath for a combat knife along the belt's waist near the small of his back. They were both empty, of course; the checkpoint he and Pyros had passed were quick to ask him for both his oversized pistol and combat knife, which Flint reluctantly agreed. He knew they would confiscate them; he just wanted them to know that he had brought them anyway. Grand Admiral's pride, perhaps, or some sort of intimidation tactic, it was difficult to really tell.

Contrary to Pyros' wishes, Flint did not say "Hi" to the growing procession of people. When he had drew in enough of the scenery, the large ID-SOL looked down to see if they had at least provided a chair for his 'special need' this time around. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they had; the chair to Pyros' right was notably larger than the rest, and Flint took it without question.

A mass dropped out of FTL travel just outside the star system that Pisces Station resided in. It was small, barely twenty meters end-to-end, and had a cloud of what appeared to be debris floating around it, like an asteroid or comet. There was a small energy signature beneath the object's surface, but no weapons or life signs were detected.

It slowed after appearing, then merely drifted into the system. Moments after, a signal was received by the station identifying the mass as the Free State's ambassador, the Envoy. After some awkward verification of the very odd craft's identity and purpose, the Envoy was cleared to approach the station. Instead of docking at the assigned airlock, the Envoy's transport -- a Colossal-class something-or-other -- sent over a small case formed out of some of the Sky Swifts that surrounded the Colossal. The case moved toward the airlock and was cycled in. Once inside, the case allowed itself to be directed to the Envoy's assigned quarters.

---

Some time afterward, a Freespacer arrived at the conference room, entering as Dico, one of the Lorath representatives, was leaving. The Freespacer was small, easily the smallest person in the room. A Type Three, the attendee was mostly organic in appearance except for the left eye and the right arm from the shoulder on down, indicated by a soft blue glow behind a small, eye-sized lens, and the gaps between the joints of the human-like, molded polymer arm. A loose, white wrap tunic was laced up with colored wires woven together, and pants were held with a tied, ribbon-type data cable. Woven moccasins covered the Freespacer's feet.

Surveying the room, the Freespacer quickly noticing the Yamataian Premier and smiled, bowing briefly in greeting. "Premier Yuumi! It is good to see you. Allow me to extend our appreciation again for this privilege."

As the Free State representative strode in, Aegis could not help but to let out a small huff at the display of greeting from the rather free-spirited looking representative. How shameful it was, to greet a representative from a nation that nearly wiped out your entire population with such seemingly jubilant tones. It made her take a deep drag from her cigar, which sent a plume of smoke up into the air. She was amused with the fact that the Yamataians had chosen to remove the nodal bits from their air supplies, as she watched the wisps of smoke mingle with the overhead lights... that was until the projection of the High Priest went about grabbing her attention.

"Aegis, go offer some of those to the Nepleslians, I know it would kill the Free State representative, so don't even bother." Velor spoke, referring to the cigar which Aegis had perched in her fingers as he spoke to her in their native tongue, with a rather hushed tone.

There was a momentary frown from Aegis, at the notion of giving up some of her private indulgences, but, it was a sacrifice for better relations. With that in mind, she went about dipping her hand briefly into her pocket which she used to carry the cigars, as she fished out four of them, tapping out her supply, as she got up from her seat and quietly made her way over to the Nepleslian delegation, before presenting the scan resistant foil case which the four cigars were wrapped in. "Excuse me, Admiral Vanderhuge, if you would excuse my intrusion, the High Priest has requested that I present your group with these as a token of friendship, and as a means of taking the edge off of the proceedings." She spoke, politely, but at the same time, it was a friendly tone, not one wrapped in formality. "Please pass these along to the Sky Marshall and the rest of the deligation when there is a chance? I do not wish to interrupt the Sky Marshall while he is looking so impressive."

"Are you brazen or are you lacking in something important to this conference," a feminine voice came from the entrance with only a light trace of accent in her voice. The source was from a rather willowy woman with silver hair reaching down to the shoulders of her dark-gray, suit jacket. Piercing eyes the color of polished emerald gazed upon Aegis as the middle-aged woman frowned upon the Lorath Ambassador. "Put that thing out and put those away or you might as well be thrown out for the good of this Conference." the woman continued as she strolled into the room, followed by a man that probably could have been mistaken for an Id-Sol. Only, the timid man with coal-black hair and dark goggles had an extra pair of arms under the original pair. It was safe to say the Abwehran delegation had arrived.

"Minister Schneider," the man seemed about ready to protest in a much thicker accent.

"Hush, Wulf." she continued before turning to Yuumi and smiling. "Premier Ketsurui," the much older woman bowed politely before the teal-haired Yamataian. "I am Iris Schneider, Minister of State and Envoy of the Abwehran Star Empire." she introduced before motioning to her companion. "And this is my aide, Herr Wolfgang Eisensbach. He won't be here for the actual meeting, but I thought it would be polite for me to introduce him considering I'll have a private comm line to him if the need arises."

"Gutentag, Fraulein," the Abwehran male greeted with an awkward bow.

"And if he arrives, I would also like to introduce the Iromakuanhe Astral Commonwealth envoy, whom we are sponsoring for the conference," Iris explained, wondering where he could have gone.

The Freespacer fluidly stepped to one side to avoid any accidental run-downs as Minister Schneider completely ignored the smaller being by striking up formalities with Yuumi before the Yamataian Premier could reply to the 'Spacer. After briefly studying the Abwehran ambassador, the still-unnamed Freespacer representative glanced back at Yuumi, smiled again and nodded...they could talk later.

After circling around behind the Abwehrans, the Freespacer noted that Aegis and the holographic Velor were occupied with the Nepleslians, who were busy settling into their own area, so the 'Spacer continued around the table toward the Free State's assigned section. Since Freespacers came in all sizes, there were a variety of chairs available as the Yamatians tried to anticipate who would arrive; the attendee picked the most comfortable one and sat down to watch everyone else some more.

It was unknown to most of the other nations, but would be brought to their attention as soon as either the talks began at a later time or when a little order was brought to the proceedings at hand, that the little 'Spacer was streaming live data to the Polysentience, where all Freespacers who cared to participate were observing, debating, and commenting on the goings-on. True, the gathering of ambassadors was supposed to be a simple meet-and-greet, but there was still valuable information to be gathered from how everyone composed themselves at something so informal.