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//I will give a formal response to this when I get back tonight and have a little more time to do it. FYI, I'm involved in the musical, "The Drowsy Chaperone"
A Pelican entered Gran Canaria airspace, moving in towards Port Jackson. It settled down in the landing port, and (just like any visitor to the region) Richard made his way through security, showing his passport and papers. Despite that, they had been ready for him. A car waited outside to transport him to the Holliday ranch, and a squad of army personnel had been sent ahead to act as escorts.
He'd disagreed with their posting, naturally, stating that it did nothing but hinder the process of diplomacy. Unfortunately, he'd been ignored. Statements of "unknown elements" and "undesirables" in the region had won that argument, and here he was, bundled into a car with an armoured car following close behind. He suspected there would be elements of the Intelligence Service floating in the area too, should things go south.
It took a short while for them to reach Doctor Holliday's estate, and upon arrival he stepped out of the car, straightening his jacket whilst the army troops huddled in around him. They walked towards the entrance, moving towards an official looking fellow by the door
Ah, good evening sir. My name is Richard Davis, Permanent Secretary of the Home Office of the United Kingdom of Great Bretonia. I appreciate the sight of our ship has caused quite a stir, but I hope to be able to alleviate peoples concerns, and find a solution to the predicament we find ourselves in. Could point me towards Doctor Holliday?
She looked back at Voncloud.
"It will remain sheathed if you behave. There are two ways my sword exists at this point. Sheathed on my hip or unsheathed in your gut. My blade will remain with me either way. So be nice and I will be too."
She gave him a pat on the shoulder and resumed her way.
The shuttle trip from the train station was quick, hardly a stones throw away from the gates of the estate William was ordered to arrive at. He stood outside for sometime, smoking his pipe and checking over his documents that he hardly had time to read before entering the building. Upon seeing the gathered crowed, William already knew he stood out like a sore thumb, his Black court of Law robes and white legal wig were a sure sign he was from the Bretonian delegation, and the family crest on his briefcase gave away his identity to any who knew is family. He reasoned most people would be looking for Holiday, and so moved toward a small table in a further corner of the room, hoping to read more of his task here before anything serious began.
He sat down and ignored a number of glares from the assembled crowd before reading the now void Port Jackson treaty.
Not receiving any answers from the ominous citizen, Grachov took an another suspicious look at her. Despite of that, he also noticed someone else approaching the entrance, and why, he was escorted by the entire squad of troops. *Brits. Always so official.* He thought. Whilist he didn't understood was that person addressing him, he answered anyway. "G'day, mister Davis. Major Anatoliy Grachov, Security Cell of the Sirius Coalition Expeditionary Corps. Pleasure to meet you." He tipped his cap. "The entrance, as I assume, is to the next door. But, for some reason... - He took a short look at the screen, and then looked back at Richard. - They're not letting us in. Can only assume that they have some preparations to deal with. Naturaly, accepting guests from all the Omegas in one mansion would be a complex task. So we're just awaiting for the other delegates to arrive. And for the moment when we're done." He eyed the escorting party of a bretonian diplomat. "You and your party may join us. Again, pleasure to meet you, and I hope this summit will conclude in a positive manner." He then leaned back into the wall, covering his face with a tip of his cap again.
From the place where his shuttle landed, Paul Mendes could see the front entrance of Docs state, quickly Paul Mendes identified Von Cloud car.
Good, he's already here
Adjusting his best corporate suit, he strolled at a slow place taking his time to feel all the nature around Docs place.
Upon reaching the front entrance was time to diplomacy. He nodded to Von Cloud, no need for words between them.
A hooded figure in a dark travel cloak hurried through the courtyard in front of the Estate. She was received at the door, asked to state her name. She leaned closer to the doorkeeper's ear. "General Augustopolou, representative of Custodi", she spoke looking up from under the hood. The man nodded and let her through.
Once inside, her hand reached the ornate brooch at her neck, undoing the cloak. She dropped her hood, revealing the neatly combed dark auburn hair. Looking around the lobby, she spied for a cloakroom and failing to find one, she hang the cloak on the first hook she found, first removing the brooch. Partly afraid of thieves and partly because the needle of the brooch would make for a perfect adornment to someone's neck, as would the ceramic knife in her boot, if the situation called for it.
She dressed not to attract attention. Far too many people in Holliday's home held each other in contempt. She did too, every one of them. Bretonians for their weakness, Zoners and even their host for naïvety and everyone else for their pretences of importance. This 'summit', she thought, had been doomed from the start. It would be a triumph for the Zoners if the meeting finished without fatalities. It would be a triumph for her, if she wouldn't be the one who started a brawl.
But above all, she was here to listen. There was no point in speaking, not to them, not here, not to these savages. Bretonia deserved nothing short of a complete destruction, and someone would speak something they shouldn't that could be used against them. Someone would reply angrily. Someone would make inappropriate remarks, and someone else would start a fight.
The trip from Barrier Gate Station was simple enough. Junius avoided the warzone and reached Gran Canaria on time for the summit. He was unarmed and fragile, not even carrying a single piece of technology such as a watch or a minicomputer. In fact he was equipped only with his black robes. And of course his Faith.
Several of his brothers and sisters in the Oracles were attending us well. One mind, one goal. He did not need to socialize with them, or stay in their company only. His eyes wandered on the filled hangar like a shepherd who is tending his flock.
Some individuals poked his curiosity, the Coalition delegation first and foremost with their impressive uniforms and stature. He approached them and slightly bowed.
"My compliments. I am Brother Junius from the Church of Sirius."
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