"Oh not to worry- let your Admirals have their posturing and extravagant conferences. Events such as this make diplomats and stuffed-shirts feel secure in themselves and their jobs. If a trip all the way out here is what it takes for them to put a cease-fire in place, then it doesn't bother me any."
Paulo reached to the table, grabbing his mug and taking sip before speaking again.
"So, the actual meetings are tomorrow then? Who all should I be expecting?"
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
He gives a chuckle in return and seems to take liberty to take one of the provided coffee mugs and a tea bag from the room's small kitchen. "Well, as far as my security plan goes. Me, You, The Admiral of the Rheinland Military, and Mr Benito of the National Council. And there shouldn't be anyone else in that conference room." He flips on the kettle to let the water boil, throws the tea bag into the mug and leans back on the counter to at least face Paulo. "There shouldn't actually be anyone else in that room... At all. Just for security reasons."
Admiral Peter von Braun moved with his personal guard and Nachrichtenoffizier Lausewitz towards the Hangar where the Director and Amalfi Delegate should wait.
"Admiral, die Herrschaften warten bereits." With a shaky voice informed Lausewitz the Admiral. "Ich weiß, lassen wir sie nicht länger warten." While Peter von Braun said that the armored door opened and he went through. A Rheinland Soldier right next to the door guarding the entry already went into the salute and started to speak with a loud voice "Admiral auf Deck!"All the remaining Rheinland Military personal started to face towards the Admiral and went into salute. Dead silence was on the hangar, the only thing you were able to hear was the crunching and cracking of the metal. "Rühren." Von Braun checks the Hangar but isn't able to find the Director nor the Amalfi Delegate. Von Braun moves closer to Lausewitz and looks directly in his eyes. "Lausewitz... wo sind sie denn?" Lausewitz looks around and can't find them either. "Admiral... sie sollten eigentlich hier sein... Ich kümmer mich darum!"
Lausewitz runs to the nearest Funkanlage and contacts Director Enfield over the local radiosystem. "Director Enfield für Nachrichtenoffizier Lausewitz kommen, the Admiral and I are already in the Hangar, where the hell are you?"
"Where the hell are you...?" A voice came through on the his communicator, blaring out discomfort in his ears. "Sorry Mr Varela. You'll have to bare with me..." He picked up his communicator from his waist and held down the talk-button on its side with his middle finger. while he poured the now boiling water into the cup of tea. "Admiral... Just sayin' but you're a tad late. I've already escorted the delegates to their temporary accommodation. I'm currently talking with the the Amalfi Delegate." He kept his tone light-hearted yet still being as formal as a soldier would. He let go of the talk button, poured some creamer in his tea and stirred with the spoon before taking out the tea bag.
"If he wants me, he'll need to wait." He joked, his priority was with Varela since he was already dealing with it. "You said something about the Admirals posturing attitude?" He had a small smirk on his face as he came to sit down on a neighboring armchair next to Varela.
Varela chuckled, returning the smirk at the Direktor's tone towards the Admiral. "Y'know I'm told you're supposed to respect those 'admiral' people. "
He glanced back down at his mug as he finished speaking, uncertain of exactly how no matter what ship he was on in whatever house or location within Sirius, warship coffee always tasted almost exactly the same: awful. He shook off the notion, instead returning his attention back to Enfield.
"I am glad to hear you're taking appropriate measures for this thing security. That reflects well on your people. "
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
He holstered his radio and turned off the volume, crossed his legs and held his mug in both hands. “Reflects well on my agency. If the Admiral has his way, he’d try to keep a guard in your room to watch you eat, sleep and breathe.” He settled into the armchair, lazily swaying his head around to face Varela to continue their friendly chat uninterrupted. “No, I trust my men, i used to be like them... Rheinland deepest darkest.” He tilted his head back and let out quite a hefty sigh while he quietly stirred his mug. “Done. few things... I know I’ve done them and I’ve been made to never forget.”
He seems to shake his head a little, dismissing the thoughts immediately. He quickly uncrossed his leg and tapped the heels on the floor rhythmically. “Well~ We knew what we signed up for and we had all the exciting bits in between!” His face tried to put on a smile and throw out a laugh. “Sorry I must be droning on- Tell me, what’s happening in the Nation of Malta?” His question seemed needed to take away from the current topic.
Paulo let out a small laugh, finishing the rest of his coffee and setting the mug down before speaking.
" Don't worry about it. And overall it's been much the same, as you'd expect; constant incessant bickering of the Dons for meager scraps of power, an overall lack of presence from the Nationals, and the odd hostile breaching our security sphere only to be brought down with excessive force. Nothing beyond the usual. "
The nearby chirping of a datapad drew Varela's attention. He flipped through a number of pages on it for a few moments before speaking again, only partially paying attention to Enfield, now seemingly enamored with whatever it was on the screen.
" Pardon this but you may actually want to go find that admiral of yours; it would seem I have some calls I need to make. "
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
He took another sip of his steaming coffee before he stood up again. "I think you're right... I never really liked working with, let alone in the military. Lets hope things change today." He took the comm-radio off his waist started to walk towards the door. "Well then Mr Varela, I guess we shall see each other in the room of diplomacy." He gave a smile, a nod and a lazy two-fingered salute before heading out the door of his quarters. Although his ages almost matched Benito, Varela seemed to be the more casual of the two, somewhat more understanding of a soldiers need for casuality.
"Admiral Braun, I'm on my way upto the bridge... Just don't keep me up there too long." He was a little joking within his statement. But he was rather annoyed he had to travel quite far....
When Lausewitz heard the message that they were already in their private quarters he was able to relax.
"Admiral, sie sind in Ihren Privaten Quartier, alles in bester Ordnung." With a relaxed voice he spoke to the Admiral. "Gute Arbeit Lausewitz, let's move back to the brigde then, we will await them there." Peter von Braun starts to turn around and gives his guards a small handwave, which indicated that we will move. While moving through the corridors he thought about questions he can ask towards the Outcasts.
A few minutes later he arrived at the front door of the brigde and looked at his clock. "Direktor Enfield is kinda slow."
Enfield came in from the access elevator, still with a stain on his shirt. First time face to face with a Military Admiral, and he did so looking like a civilian with a shiny badge. "Sorry admiral, I was just tailoring to the diplomats... Making them more comfy before we either make this time worthwhile or they leave with sour faces." He joked about it, although he knew that joking would have to end soon.
"So then Admiral... How are you well?" He didn't know what to really ask, as much as the admiral knew, the both were probably in for a long day. He looked around the bridge being intrigued by every flashing light and screen, this was probably his first time upon the bridge of a Battleship.
"I give it to you, this is a bit bigger than any cruiser I've been on."
![[Image: R5zSdBa.png]](https://i.imgur.com/R5zSdBa.png)