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| - What was once an open building with access freely granted, within reason, to all who desired in has been transformed into a veritable fortress with security checks and guards dotting the grounds of this edifice. The headquarters of the CDU's executive had an unnatural stillness to it despite it all, a tension that could be felt given the high-level talks that had been called for. Not formal talks of course, but still it was known that there was to be a meeting between the CDU's representative, Minister Cordelia, and envoys from the Empire and the Republic. Two landing spots at opposite ends of the headquarters were chosen for the two delegations, their routes to the meeting hall kept far apart from each other lest trouble develop. And finally, Cordelia greeted them both as they arrived, inviting them to join her though there is as yet no move made towards the rectangular table that occupied the hall's centre. To-date, there have been very few 'opportunities' for Ambassador Delgard to sit and treat with enemy #1 directly. She understands, in no uncertain terms, the gravity of this situation and has not only dressed for the occasion, but even managed to keep her hands off the usual bedtime drink last night, just in case. The woman even paid special note to braiding the lengths of her hair, drawing the scalp into swirl over one side of her head before twisting and winding the remainder into an ornate knot down the length of her neck. Tugging on the gold-embroidered wrists of her sage-colored tunic, Ambrosia exhales her nervousness and exits the final weapons scanner. She puffs her chest with a more confident inhale and marches steadily towards the conference room between her assigned CDU escorts. A thin, but gentle smile plays upon her lips when Cordelia comes into view and she touches her fingertips lightly to her brow in silent greeting. The Imperial Ambassador at the beginning of this affair is an obsequious young sarian woman - she'd taken up her post three years ago and her tenure to date had been an uneventful one. The Empire's inward focus and its troubles with the now eradicated New Sith Order had all but forsaken Union space along with the crippled Rebellion. To suppose her a calculation then would either concede to some truly long-game playing by the Empire, or admit to a happy coincidence. Her face had certainly made for excellent holo-vid footage - a Sarian in Imperial uniform taking food from the hands of Imperial Stormtroopers and giving it to mothers of hungry children. COMPNOR earns its budget. There is no sign of her today - she personally confirmed her intention to attend the meeting but when the Lambda shuttle's boarding ramp descends it is an honour guard of four white-clad warriors of the two-hundred and third that file out, not diplomatic aides. They remain with the shuttle. thereafter descends Lord Aldus Thel, breaker of the New Sith Order, the defacto ruler of the Corporate Sector and commander-in-chief of the Caspian interdiction effort. "Minister." the man speaks with an unmistakable accent - the sharp, hard vowels of Coruscanti high society and the preferred styling of the Imperial Navy ooze from his throat and posture, the ostentatious cloak draped from his shoulders apparently no pageantry too far. "Ambassador Delgard.", the Caspian woman said, greeting her fellow diplomat, pointedly ignoring the Imperial delegate, a nod was even granted the woman. No such warmth, if it could even be called that, was extended towards Thel, a perfectly neutral, hostile even, expression directed at him from the woman. "Lord Thel." Cordelia turned around, the long braid her hair was collected into gently swaying from side to side as she walked towards the table's head. "Sit.", the woman said before sitting down, seats on opposite side of the table pointed at for her two counterparts to occupy. Ambrosia's nape prickles instinctively, bristling without thought to the sound of Aldus' voice. Tipping her head around to peer a touch over her shoulder, she offers her counterpart a forty-five degree nod, own gaze reflecting the icy demeanor of their mutual host. "Lord Thel," she echoes, softly, then pivots her step to claim a seat for herself. "I trust your flight was a safe one." "Is it my imagination, or is spring late this year?" Thel enquires. The low rumble of his voice smoothed into something almost silky - like gravel in a velvet bag. "There seems to be a chill in here." his eye turning to the indicated chairs, the nobleman's aristocratic thin lips edge toward something that resembles a diplomatically polite smile - he remains standing. "You'll have to forgive me, the protocol for diplomatic meetings always eludes me and I do so loathe the wittering of aides. I am however given to understand that refreshments are typically provided?" his smile drops. "If you are having trouble sourcing fresh produce, we can resolve that problem today." Save for the arch of a brow and the tightening of her lips, Cordelia did not rise to the bait and instead the woman's right hand reached out to a button, one recessed into the table's surface, just to the left of her. Not long after, the wide doors of the room they were in slide apart and in come striding a young man bearing a tray. The clear pitcher within it contained water only, fresh enough and somewhat cold. The water is poured into one of the fluted glasses on the tray and the young server holds it out, the tray that is, towards the nobleman and should nothing impede him, more of the water would be poured for Ambrosia as well. "I trust that Caspian water will suffice, Lord Thel.", Cordelia says at long last, "And no, we have no need of your particular...form of problem-solving." "I suppose it would be a little trite to be poison." Thel replies with a cavalier stroll around the server, claiming the fluted glass in a gloved hand. He holds it up to the light for a moment, a slow rotation as a rainbow refraction moves across his face. Then he sips from it. A sharp sigh of satisfaction follows, and the wet smacking of lips. "Delicious." "The trouble with negotiating from extremes Minister, is that it is, much like the dinner tables of countless Caspian families tonight, fruitless." Aldus gestures toward the viewport with his drink. "I came to Caspar to find a peaceful solution to treachery, because I convinced the Emperor that we could do so. That Caspar truly desired peace with the Empire. Was I mistaken? Is it really your wish for the Emperor to determine that the best way to safeguard the lives of his subjects is to simply /conquer/ the Union? For all the risk your government has taken for the Rebellion, their assistance is to date rather lack-luster, wouldn't you say?" Ambrosia accepts the glass of water with a polite nod and smile. Her lips gingerly siphon a bit off the top, eyes and ears tuned to the opening ... remarks. The muscles in her jaw work silently behind a sealed mouth, brain generating a long list of retorts to volley back, but nevertheless adheres to rules of civility. The Minister of the CDU is more than capable of defending herself, and as a diplomatic *guest* dwelling on planet, it's not her place to interrupt. Instead, she continues to listen, sip, and stare. Acutely. "You assert, then,", the woman begins to say before turning to Ambrosia, her eyes narrowing as she looks at her closer before turning back to Thel. "that the Empire is only interested in our people's long-term good? That a peaceful solution is still possible to all this and that you are not planning on subjugating us? I ask all this because a blockade that starves our people seems a rather odd way of going about this. But I will admit that the Imperial mindset is different from the Caspian one, and of course, different from the Republican one. Why not ask for those people you believe cooperated with the Republic to be tried as criminals rather than blockading our worlds?" So. Progress. Thel smiles. It is not a warm gesture. "One cannot progress a criminal case without investigation. Is the Crest now willing to cooperate with an Imperial Security Bureau investigation? There is either corruption at some of the highest levels of your government, or there is a willful betrayal of the terms of our treaty, Minister. We cannot trust that same government to investigate itself. Open up your records, all of them to scrutiny and we can identify these traitors together and leave your system." he moves to the table, content now to sit. "Your government armed terrorists, and you did it by disguising shipments of proton torpedoes and concussion missiles as artisanal cheeses and handmade furniture, minister. Do not claim a moral high ground with me." Ambrosia touches her fingertips to her glass, rotating it back and forth as she studies the 'noble' man. Taking a breath breath, she traces the outline of a molar with her tongue, clears her throat softly, then interjects "The peace pact between the Caspian Democratic Union and the New Republic, which was signed twelve years ago, and then re-signed when General Mahon assumed the Presav position, does include a trade agreement. Trade between peoples, corporations...not government officials. I cannot verify that our military ever received such a grand care package from the *Union*. Our relationship is based upon mutual trust - to leave alone, be left alone, and pass freely through one another's space, preferably with prior notification, should any 'passing' include military grade vessels. If the Union would one day desire to join with the Republic, well, we would welcome it. But I don't solicit." Glancing to Cordelia before leveling as emotionless expression as she possibly could upon Lord Thel, the Ambassador shrugs one shoulder. "I'll admit, I'm curious to know who did." Cordelia tracks the man as he makes his way to the table, content to no longer have to crane her neck so far up to look at him. "We would, yes. But any such cooperation would be conditioned on the sword hanging over our heads being removed. On the blockade's end. And any criminal investigation would need to be conducted impartially for its findings to be binding, and I am not certain that your government would be able to do so. And conversely, neither would you trust us to handle it ourselves. An impartial third party can be found, however. Would you be content with this arrangement, Lord Thel?" And finally, she turns to the other diplomat in the room. "We would not desire it and neither would we accept Republic ships transiting through our space anymore than we would Imperial ships doing the same. Your respective politics do not concern us, your endless warring does not concern us and it will not come to involve us." "A legalistic excuse." Thel dimisses Ambrosia's protestation over the facts curtly. "Which obscures the simple fact that the supply of arms is explicitly prohibited. If Caspians wish to sell shell-fish to the Calamari and radishes to Ord Mantell, let them." he sets his glass down on the tabletop with a weighty thud, punctuating his next statement. "We draw the line at heavy ordinance." Thel's gaze snaps quickly to Cordellia "And who would this 'third party' be, minister? And who should choose them? No." he replies flatly. "We have proof of the crime..." gesturing with a tilt of his glass, leaving the rim of its base in contact with the table. "...the 'ambassador' here is either the rebellion's fool, or she is a liar. Maintain innocence all you like in public, but do not insult me by protesting it in private." The nobleman leans into the backrest of his chair, splayed fingers tenting his downward facing palms against the surface of the table at two thirds of his arm's reach, the cloak aids the gesture, man seeming twice the presence he occupied before. "The Union will provide unconditional cooperation with the Imperial Security Bureau to identify the perpetrators. And to ensure that the situation does not begin again as soon as the Empire departs Union space, Caspian customs will be placed under ISB supervision. These have been our terms since our arrival, they have not changed. They will not change." Cordelia's words to the Republic Ambassador don't earn her more than an impassive flicker of green from beneath half-closed lids. She's heard it all and more, these last several weeks. Insults and ingratitude have rained from civilians and politicians alike, and the feel of them no longer penetrates her core. Instead, she continues to watch the true threat in the room. A wry smile curls the right side of her lip. "...and yet *I'm* the viper," Oh yes...she'd listened to the broadcast. "while you suppose to wrap *your* coils around Caspian shipping depots? Indefinitely? I can only imagine how well-received your forked tongue will be, sniffing about. But..." Drawing another sip from her glass, she dips her chin back to Cordelia. "If it means the Caspian people are forever alleviated of their suffering, and they blatantly refuse the Repulic's assistance in acheiving said relief, then...why not? I hear any serpent can be kept tame if handled properly." The Caspian sits silent, hands joined before her on the table as she shifts her gaze from Thel to Ambrosia and then finally back to the Imperial. Little of her thoughts could be gleaned from her features, but then that was to be expected with a person that's spent much of their life in the diplomatic service. "It is appropriate that you spoke of concealing weapons inside of shipments of foodstuffs and other trade goods. And in fact, Lord Thel, I did not ask for your presence here to negotiate a cessation of the hostilities and an end to the blockade. What we demand of your government is an explanation", demand, a strong word that, but Cordelia did not seem the type to choose words idly, "to this." The this in question revealed as she unclasped her hands, the right one once more extended, this time to the holo-display that dropped down from the ceiling. The projection winked to life as files began to be displayed on it before finally a video began to play. "We seized control of some of your so-called aid shipments and found this.", several Caspian marines rifled through crates bearing the Imperial government's crest, an assortment of weapons and spying devices." Aldus' superior sneer had never been more prevalent in the Caspian Affair as now. His demands restated, his Grace looked every bit the victorious conqueror, dominating one side of the table with an unrelenting presence. It wavers. There is first incredulity; surely this is a deception? Some feeble offering to feed the masses? A last desperate gasp of innocence before capitulation? Duke Aldus Thel rises, reaching for the projector. "Outrageous!" Aldus declares. "I ordered no such thing!" his eyes flit from the display to Ambrosia, and for a moment there is a flicker of something. Is it hatred, or is it respect? Is there a clear line between the two? Thel casts the unit back to the table with a noisy clatter as he rises to his feet. "Rebellion treachery!" the lord of the Empire hisses with a venomous tone. "I would open the holds of our cargo ships to your personal inspect this instant, as if it would make a difference." his knuckles crack, audibly. A deep breath fills a chest adorned with ribbons and medals. "I give you personal assurance that this is by no act of the Empire." he bites. "But I can do nothing to prevent you exploiting it." returning to his seat, his lordship leans into the backrest and steeples his finger, thinking aloud even as he continues to dictate terms. "You may do so. We shall strenously deny it, and the people shall believe what they will. We shall both make our cases and let 'democracy'..." the word uttered as if it were bitter on the tongue. "...decide. Alternately, the Empire will agree to immediately cease all shipments to Union worlds." The minister of state's garb was far plainer than her Imperial counterpart, there was no decorations on her robes, no marking of her position. And if the woman's clothes were of a fine material and an even finer cut, Cordelia appeared a plain woman, and she spoke plainly. "If our personal assurances that those behind any shipments to the Republic, if in fact there were shipments, will be dealt with are not good enough to end the blockade, even with the use of a third-party arbitrator. Then surely you can understand that we place little weight on any guarantee from your part." Finally, the woman sighs and shakes her head, "No, my lord, you have been caught red-handed fomenting civil war and chaos in the Union and that we do not forgive. There will no be further negotiations, now is the time for you to listen to our terms." Uncertainty is swept away by direction. Caught off guard, the Empire had reeled, the wise combatant choosing a stronger defensive posture over reckless attack. Snakes get their heads cut off when they stick them out. The Republic had kept its' attached, Aldus Thel was no neophyte to make the mistake they did not. "Speak them." Aldus invites, fist closing with the soft cracking of knucles. "But be careful, Minister. You have a little leverage, and I will respect it. Push it too far, and it will break." he looms forward, eyes fixed with hers. "The Empire has no use for broken things." "The blockade will be ended, immediately, and all Imperial forces will be withdrawn from Caspian territory. In turn Caspar, the Republic and the Empire will submit to an impartial arbitrator that will determine the final truth of allegations concerning secret shipments of military hardware to the Republic. These can be conducted by arbitrator chosen by a neutral power such as the Hapans or in the case that no such group can be found, a tribunal made up of Caspians, to be chosen by us; and Imperial delegates, to be chosen by yourselves." Shock, though not quite as animated, mirrors in the Republic Ambassador's eyes as Cordelia plays her card. Rather than appearing on the verge of suffering an aneurism, however, Ambrosia's face takes on a rather radiant glow. Vindication, at last. Her lips remain more or less in a calm, straight line, though there's some slight flinch in her clasped hands atop the table when his Imperial Grace shouts. Rebellion treachery? No...at least, not that she knew. Still, she savors the hate, the ire, the confusion that explodes from his mouth. There is a barely discernible wink, a mere twitch in one of the Ambassador's eyeballs as the pompous, Imperial rooster suffers a brief choke in his crowing to meet her gaze. Hiss hiss, baby. Coughing softly to clear an imagined tickle from her throat, she coolly lifts the glass to her lips and leans back in her chair, surveying from what hopefully is a safe enough distance. Her head nods silently, offering the Republic's seal of approval for Cordelia's terms. There is silence from the Imperial side - for they have taken not a corner, but an entire end of the room as is their wont, occupied by a force of one. And now that giant, emblematic or indicative, sits silent. Like a volcano. Each word washes over him, and a churning fury rises. Muscles tense as Thel listens. The feeling about the chamber is like a shortening of breath. Chests grow tight. The air seems sharper, colder. A directionless, helpless panic welling up in the others' hearts like the impending spasm of a major muscle. The knowledge that it is coming, anticipation of pain, the inability to affect its course and the resignation to suffering that will relent only when it is finished. A slow draw of breath seems to suck every ounce of oxygen from the room as Aldus rises. A thousand venomous thoughts, threats both actionable and idle course through his mind. In stark silence, his jaw sets. And finally, there're words. "I will relay your demands to the Emperor..." Aldus relates in his velvet-wrapped gravelly tone. "...I pray you soften your stance, Minister. I will do what I can."
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