Jovan: Diplomatic Incidentals

[Kyryanu Sevon]

It was but a split-second. The barest hesitation before her features pulled into a rather amused expression.

"Is that so?"

Her tone had taken on an almost sing-song lilt, and Kyry couldn't help the wry grin that slowly etched itself onto her face. She looked past Harth in that moment, her eyes searching the wall behind him for some invisible sign or portent.

Seconds later her eyes returned to his.

"An adventurous bit of living. Not my first choice of ideal situations, but I work with what I'm given."

And as if to punctuate her words, a single finger tunked against the armrest.

"And here I thought I was getting too old for such excitement."

[Gilad Harth]

"I rather hope it will not be too exciting," Harth replied with a smile, "If it is we will probably not enjoy our next assignments."

He shifted forward a little in his seat, signalling an increased degree of intimacy and confidence by the fractional reduction in the distance between them.

"I intend to approach this as neutrally as possible: at least outwardly. We cannot awe or intimidate nor can we grovel. I shall present my credentials as Liaison and the requisite notice of our intentions as plain facts. I shall leave it to this Commander Akiena to decide whether to co-operate or not.

"The question, however, is how best to secure his co-operation. Is that more likely if he is taken by surprise and his hand forced by our presence or if he is forewarned?"

[Kyryanu Sevon]

"A bit of forewarning may be beneficial."

The words were out of her mouth without her even having to think on them.

"If we are to be making something of a 'home' on Jovan Station, it would be best to inform the powers-that-be of our intentions."

She too angled forward a slight bit. One elbow rested on the armrest as her weight shifted in her seat, and her head tipped a small bit to the side as she continued.

"If we aim to commit to this, it is best that we begin in the correct fashion. If we treat the Alliance like the Rebellion of old, then I do believe we will suffer for it. But if we extend to them an offered hand of cooperation, it will be easier for us to work together on matters no matter how small or how big."

[Gilad Harth]

"Then I suppose I have a call to make."

He reached towards the desk comm unit.

[Kes Akiena]

* * *

It was his off day.

The one day of the week that he was allowed time to himself, with nothing pressing unless he wished it to be so. Or at least, that was the theory. The truth of the matter was that Kes Akiena was afforded little to no time to himself, unless he was asleep. And even then that sleep was interrupted at sometimes the strangest hours of the night. He wasn't entirely disgruntled, but he did at times long for uninterrupted peace. There usually seemed to be some problem, no matter how big or small, that needed his attentions. He was patient enough though. It was an existence that he was coming to settle into with a sense of strange pseudo-enjoyment.

It made him feel necessary still.

In his quarters now, with the lights dimmed, the redhead occupied his sofa, laying along its' length. His eyes were closed, a thin paper 'book' resting on his chest. The illustrated cover was partially obstructed by a hand that'd once been holding it up, but twenty minutes previous had let the comic fall as his eyelids did the same.

The first chirp of his comm sounded without movement, but on the second trill he jolted awake with a vengeance, sitting up. The Captain Coruscant comic he'd been once-reading slid from his chest to land in the small pile of back issues that were scattered across his legs. There were a myriad of titles mixed together; The Imperial Shadow, Jedi League: Yavin, and even a single issue of The Order of the Scorpion.

Blindly, Kes reached for his comm.

"Yes?"

The grogginess in his voice was evident, and the junior officer on the other end hesitated before speaking.

"You've got a transmission, Sir."

He sighed.

"Ran, it's my day off."

"Sorry Sir, I know that. But this is... well, I think you need to take it."

Making a face that the lieutenant couldn't see, Kes acquiesced.

"Fine. Who is it?"

"Bluntly, Sir? It's the Empire."

"Tell Captain Wygraant that I'm busy."

"It's not Captain Wygraant, Sir."

Now it was his turn to give pause.

"Ok... who is it?"

"He's a diplomat. Name's Gilad Harth."

Kes ran the name through his memory, unable to come up with a face, let alone any remembrance of meeting the man. A total stranger then. With another sigh, the redhead reluctantly swung his legs over so that he could sit properly. His little collection of guilty pleasures was wrangled with one hand.

"Fine fine. Put him through."

"Yes Sir."

Another few moments of silence passed, and he used the moment to link the micro-projector on the caf table to his comm unit. The stack of comics was unceremoniously dumped alongside.

And when the small, bluish representation of 'Gilad Harth' materialized, Kes leaned back on the sofa, letting out a long breath as he did so. One hand rested in his lap, the other draping itself over a cushion.

"This is Commander Akiena," came the intoned greeting.

[Gilad Harth]

The disconcerting thing about HoloNet discussion was the lack of context. To reduce signal complexity the default setting on holocams feeding into the system was to record and transmit only the speaker and not their setting. Furniture, backdrops, nearby objects were all omitted. Thus Harth was confronted by most of the commander seated as if in midair while Harth himself appeared as an upper body similarly suspended.


Harth felt he had the same worst view as the Alliance officer's posture placed some anatomical zones in your uncomfortable prominence.


"Gilad Harth, commander," he introduced himself, "Imperial Diplomatic Corps. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

[Kes Akiena]

He could always say 'of course not, you're not disturbing anything, Mr. Harth.' In fact, there were a myriad of things he could say to that effect. Tactful, diplomatic words to ease the tone of whatever this transmission was about.

Those types of words were decidedly not the ones to leave his mouth.

"Well Mr. Harth," a hand came up to further rub the sleep from his eyes, "I was in the middle of a nap, to be honest."

His head angled to the side then, his neck eliciting a sharp crack. His hand moved from his eyes to the back of his neck then, applying some pressure to try and spread the relief into the surrounding muscles. On reflex, he leaned forward, off-hand reaching out to the small projector and bringing it up to set on his knee.

"But I'm awake now, so what can I do for you."

[Gilad Harth]

An Imperial officer (any officer really) would have invented some cover, however flimsy, rather than admit to a stranger that they had been caught napping. Harth's first observation about his putative host would be that he was unusually forthright about circumstance or else uncommonly canny in using circumstance to his advantage. A lesser diplomat might be floored by such seeming honesty but Gilad Harth was not a lesser diplomat.

"My apologies, Commander, I will not take more of your leisure time from you than is absolutely necessary. I am sure you have little enough of it and itvwould be discourteous of me to be anything other than brief."

A smile, calculated in its restrained warmth demarked the end of this opening statement.

"Briefly then, Commander, I am aboard a consular ship bound for Jovan Station. It is my intention, my mission even, to establish there a liaison office. I have all the necessary credentials with me, which I shall present upon arrival in...oh..." here Harth made a show of consulting a chronological off screen and apparently calculating an ETA, "eight hours."

[Kes Akiena]

His silence was the only indication of any surprise at this news, and Kes kept his eyes on the holo in quiet contemplation. It wasn't entirely out of the ordinary he supposed, that the Empire would send a representative. In fact, it had been the ultimate intention for an Imperial presence to be aboard in some fashion. Just as the other ambassadors from other sectors were slowly trickling in to essentially 'set up shop' on Jovan, this comm, from Gilad Harth, was in some ways expected. Of course the timing of it...

Kes finally gave a nod.

"Eight hours."

Not an entirely long period of time.

"I hope you're not expecting anything special, Mr. Harth."

It would more than likely be best to be brutally honest, and the redhead wiped a hand over his eyes, sweeping it back over his hair.

"We're not exactly a vacationing station."

[Gilad Harth]

Harth favoured Akiena with another of those carefully calibrated smiles. This one indicated acceptance with, perhaps, a soupcon of...well...condescension.

"Oh I am sure we can get by in the short term. We can always use our ship as a base of operations to begin with."

The liaison-designate was testing the waters. Would an Imperial vessel, even a consular one, be permitted to cross the Treaty Line let alone remain over it for an extended period?

[Kes Akiena]

A hand reached back to scratch behind his neck.

"Yes well, I'm sure that you can. We've got the space to accommodate, so don't think I'm being an inconsiderate host. Just honest."

Letting out a long breath, Kes leveled his eyes at the Imperial. And in keeping with his honest appraisal of the current status of Jovan's still-growing ability to provide amenities beyond basic living needs, he succinctly addressed the latter part of Mr. Harth's sentence.

"But, if you would prefer to stay aboard your ship, then I'll wrangle you a week. After that you're gonna have to officially move to the station or go back to the Core."

[Gilad Harth]

The Imperial nodded, "Reasonable enough terms I think." He then made a further sally, "Upon which to begin at any rate."

For a moment Harth considered mentioning his security team and other incidentals but decided against doing so. Much harder for he Commander to eject visitors than to refuse them entry.

"I look forward to meeting you in person, Commander."

[Kes Akiena]

His normally easy smile once more found its' way to his lips, and the redhead gave a nod.

"The feeling is mutual, Mr. Harth."

A look to his wrist chrono.

"Eight hours, then."

And as he reached forward with his offhand, finger hovering over the button that would end the comm, he went on.

"I'll be sure to have my command staff ready to receive you."

And pressing the tab, he watched as the small blue representation of Gilad Harth ebbed away into thin air. A moment passed, and with a muttered breath, Kes tossed the projector back onto the table. He leaned back into the cushions of the sofa, head angling up as his eyes closed.

Eight hours.

On the bright side, at least it wasn't Captain Wygraant he'd have to entertain.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Hey!"

She shouted over the din of the firing plasma welder to the crewman operating it. Obviously not loud enough, because the work continued unabated.

"Hey!"

She took a few steps closer, raising her voice a little more. He still didn't stop. Finally fed up with the impasse, Gradoona stomped all the way over and dropped a heavy hand onto the human's shoulder, giving him a hard shake.

"Heeey! Wake up!"

The jolted man killed the welder, and found a very-perturbed Herglic staring down at him. Her beak was closed in an even expression, which normally wasn't a bad thing for most people, but was the closest thing a Herglic had to a pissed off face.

"The line is still live! Lookit!"

She pulled him by his shirt collar and dragged him to the power feed indicator, just in case his eyesight was damn-near-blind.

"See! Ya can't goo and spark 'er up aan a live line, ya jackass! Yoou wanna cook yourself half to death? Shut it down! Goo aan and work aan the emitter and foorget aboout this for now, alright?! Geepers!"

[Tamera Beck]

Life on Jovan Station was far and away a different thing than how it was back on Nar Shaddaa. Though in some ways it was exactly the same. After winning the Turbolaser Run, Morgan Evanar had kept his word, leaving the planet with Tamera Beck in tow. And she had been true to her word as well, gifting him the Sansin. She'd gone with him to Ossus, initially, but it hadn't been long before she made her way back out into space, and on a freighter bound for Jovan. She'd signed on as a civilian contractor, landing a decent job that wasn't some dead-end wrench-turning affair.

Now as Jovan's supply clerk, Tamera had her hands full with paperwork, grumpy technicians, and more paperwork.

The brunette ducked past the hulking form of the Herglic, Gradoona, her ever-present datapad clutched in one hand and a bag of See'tai Ne Sajoi puffs firmly gripped in the other. The Cizerack crisp snack had become a fast favorite of hers.

"I've got a ship inbound with a load of actuators and fitting bolts," she interrupted unabashedly.

A quick consult of her datapad at a new scheduling arrival that'd just updated.

"And looks like we have an Imperial diplomatic boat arriving in... six hours... ?"

Her shoulders slumped, and she expertly liberated a crisp from the bag, popping it into her mouth.

"I have shipments coming into this spire for the rest of the day," she got out between crunches.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Gradoona's blowhole haauuu'ed, and she doubled back on the contractor deck-hand with a blink.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa there...back up just a smiiidge. An Imperial whaat now?"

She really needed to learn this contractor's name, since she was marginally competent. Everyone had just been calling her rat puff.

[Tamera Beck]

"Diplomatic vessel," came the half-garbled response as she finished swallowing.

"Command wants them to dock at this spire, but... " another consult of her 'pad, "... I don't know how we can do that if we've got supplies coming in for the rest of the day."

Tamera angled her head up to look at the Herglic. A moment later she looked back away, blowing a breath out the side of her mouth to dislodge an errant lock of hair from in front of her eyes.

"If you got a way to make it work, I'm all ears."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Hey hey hey now..."

Gradoona held up both hands in caution at the snacking clerk, straightening up to her full height as she did.

"One..." she held out a finger on one hand for emphasis, "I doon't need to be a Jedi to read the Commander's mind aan that one. It could be the Chancellor of Giju on that tug out there, and he'd still tell 'em to pound sand. Two..."

Another finger rose.

"I'm just the resident engineer. This is naat my penguin to skin."

Gradoona was still stuck on the casual bit of news that Rat Puff had dropped though.

"D'ya knoow the deal with that consular ship? It's naat every day that we dock somethin' like that."

[Tamera Beck]

"Just that it's Imperial."

She glanced back to her 'pad, thumbing through a list of incoming supplies before getting to the details of the ship in question.

"Yeah, there's nothing really on here other than that... oh wait."

A pause, and Tamera glanced over the special instructions that just popped up.

"Oh come on!!"

With a long sigh, she gave the 'pad an angry shake, as if the act of doing so would make the information it held go away. It didn't, and the words still waited patiently for her on her second look-over. In frustration, she looked up to the reinforced ceiling, rolled her head to the side, and was rewarded with a satisfying crack!.

"Command wants the spire cleaned up and ready for a receiving party."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

The Herglic blinked, a startled hauuuu blurting from her blowhole.

"How faancy a paarty are they taalkin' here? I still gaat a laatta touchin' up t'do. I mean suure we coould eighty-six the emitter jaab, buuut we're already up to the gills makin' suure the mag clamps can withstand capital-class tonnage."

Gradoona yanked the pad out of Rat Puff's hands, scrolling it for herself as she whistled in irritation.

"Exactly where do they think I keep a red caarpet stoored foor craap like this?"