Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Tannhauser

[Tiko]

as written by Krysis

"The boss needs a new assistant. Glorified go-fer really, for the other assistants. You're up, Stier." came the instructions out of the mouth of the disgusting slob that was Isabelle's (former) supervisor in the personnel office. Naturally, Belle thought that meant she was to review the applicants for someone to fit the bill, until the nicotine-stained hand with the blackened fingernails got placed over the screen she was about to use for that purpose.

"Didn't you hear me, Ms. snooty Lady? You. Are. Going. Up." He clarified, glaring at her with piggish, bloodshot, little brown eyes. Ever since a 'noble' woman had insisted on starting at the entry level jobs, he had hated her. Sending Isabelle Stier up to the dragon lady, the terrestrial goddess, the Minister of Public Enlightenment, was his way of killing two birds with one stone. First, he was offering fresh meat to the stressful grind of the upper-most layers of the ministry, and second, he was getting rid of the uptight little bitch that looked down her entitled nose at him and all the other working-class stiffs. He couldn't fire her, because she was good at the work and had a high-ranked family (even if it was just the Stier) behind her, but promoting her into a position that few could handle would suit him just fine.

"Have you already reassigned the--" Isabelle started to ask, only to raise her chin haughtily when the man insisted on interrupting her. To be fair, she had been telling him how to do his job since she got there, since such a slovenly manner of doing business was so foreign to the slender young woman. Her posture had straightened in affront the first day she had stepped into the huge room of cubicles, and her disgust for her co-workers had never lessened. Her attempts to set a better example had met with as much success there as they had in the various dorms she had stayed in over the years. That is to say, the harder she tried to clean up their act, the more flagrant their behavior had become.

"Yes! Yes! Get out of here and take your prissy manners with you!" the man bellowed and reached for Isabelle's coat to throw it at her.

Briefly, she entertained the notion of making this fool regret ever rising his voice at her, but having to explain why she broke a man's nose wouldn't be her first choice for how to spend her first day in a new job. So she gathered her belongings quietly and walked away with her dignity intact. Even though leaving him squealing on the floor would have been so satisfying.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Ottoman and Krysis

The upper floors of the Ministry of Public Enlightenment still resembled an office building typical of the Hegemony's civilian sector, though here the great fields of cubicles were replaced with a variety of closed offices and a myriad of meeting rooms. Each bureau, from literature to opera, had its own space, the primary and assistant directors of such coordinating with their teams from below to ensure that they only let a quality product through to the people of the Hegemony - even now the literature board was receiving an influx of twelve new childrens' books for review and analysis, an examination of themes and characters to ensure that the work could not corrupt the youth of the nation in any fashion. Most here were in their civilian clothing, things of their own choice, though they still maintained a professional image alongside their uniformed counterparts, the khaki-clad figures either on their way to meetings with officials of other ministries or the press as the uniform was rarely worn when simply in the office.

Still did Josefine insist on it, having so few dresses and suits that weren't meant for the off-season, instead of her usual black attire. Here, she insisted, she was not the Empress but the Minister of Public Enlightenment - the head of an organization, not a monarch of an empire. The thought was to make it less intimidating to bring anything up that was against her will, that might not fit in with her plans, though it didn't work quite the way she wanted it. It was little help that Josefine was no less dogged in her work, her pursuit and expectation of perfection, here than behind her desk as Kaiserin, earning her the reputation of a tyrant in some eyes. It was almost misleading, the door that opened to her office, which was in the same civic style as the others here and not the ornate gothic angles that one associated with her House, which simply read 'Minister of Public Enlightenment' on the wall beside it.

When Isabelle arrived she would find the place a veritable hive of activity, though it was far more hushed and subdued than the realm below that she was used to. The receptionists busied themselves constantly with calls, taking down messages and sending them out to the personal computing tools of the individuals to which they were directed, hardly having the time to look up to see her arrive. Individuals came and went in a stream that, while constant, couldn't be described as harried or violent. No one was there to seek her out, to tell her where to go or escort her to whatever her new station might have been, at least not at first. There was no doubt, in the minds of all that knew of her reassignment, that someone was being dispatched to see to her orientation - it was simply efficient, and the Austrans were the model of efficiency - the only problem being that no one had taken the time to do such a thing, always bouncing it down the chain of command.

The Austrans could also be, unfortunately, the model of bureaucracy.

____

After writing down her name and the purpose of her presence, Isabelle would leave that information with one of the receptionists. It was assumed that the information would eventually be routed to the right person. It just meant she had to wait. In her white blouse and navy-blue skirt suit, Lady Stier probably looked like hundreds of other young women that had been left to languish in the lobby.

She could stay busy for a while. She could use the time to her advantage, since it was likely she would be too busy in the coming weeks to finish filing the project she had been interrupted in by her promotion. She doubted that anyone else would finish it either, if she did not, especially since it was a report on how inefficient and sloppy the office she just left was.

Thankfully, Isabelle was also a smart lady. She knew in general where the office she needed should be, and that she was likely to have a desk there. Furthermore, that desk was likely to be the only one that was empty of personal touches, since filling positions at the top was high priority. Still, it was better to wait, just in case someone had been told to help her find her way.

Though if she finished her work before being called on, she would start to suspect that the chore of showing the new girl around had been bounced down to the most junior member of the staff. It would be all but impossible for her to teach herself the ropes, so that situation would be in need of a swift remedy.

____

It wasn't until after one of the receptionists looked over the note that Isabelle had scribbled on the holosheet, alerting the powers that be that the newest arrival was here and that someone, somewhere along the line, should have stepped up and taken responsibility for dealing with this, that someone arrived for the young lady Stier. He was a young Oriyak man, in his early thirties, dressed in what would have been a steel-shaded three-piece if he still wore the jacket, though his tie was visibly loosened from its once-pristine place in the collar of his shirt. Far too intent on reading something on his wrist as he approached, the hologram looking to be some text or another, to look at Isabelle before glancing over to the receptionist in silent inquiry. An irritated glare and sideways glance at Isabelle told him all he needed to know, the woman not missing a beat in the call's conversation as she did, and the Oriyak followed the hint out to the noblewoman.

The hologram disappeared into his wrist, hands moving subconsciously to check and make certain that his cuffs were still properly done before moving up to his neck, to feel with some slight horror that his tie wasn't properly fitted. Fingers flitted over its green, silken surface before deciding to leave it as is, figuring it best not to accentuate his foul-up. "Lady Stier," He greeted, bowing his head at her name and title. "My most sincere apologies for not being here to greet you when you arrived, business is booming today for better or worse. I am Anastas Simonov, assistant section chief for the bureaus." The Oriyak quickly looked back to whence he came, mind dashing to something else for but a moment before returning to Isabelle. "It is an honor. I understand you are to be our new general secretary?"

His narrow features regarded this new arrival curiously, not certain what to make of her at all yet. She seemed harmless enough, even amiable, though her name did carry a certain weight with it which was not to be ignored. A stray strand of black hair lay askew on his forehead, having split apart from the rest of the parted mass still held firm by whatever tonic or means that he had styled it all with, Anastas making no move to correct it as he instead reached for the silver chain which helped him fish his pocket-watch from its home in his vest, only stopping himself short of pulling it out as he wondered how rude that might make him seem.

"... let's get started on the tour, shall we?" He suggested, gesturing down the hall he came from, starting not but a moment after he finished speaking. The foot-traffic wasn't quite so bad once one got away from the nexus of the elevators and the stairs there by the lobby, though the occasional individual came and went, darting in and out of various doors and rooms. "This section is televised broadcasts, they... have their work cut out for them, most days." Having to analyze whole seasons of shows and countless documentaries took its toll on those inside, and despite its already large size the members were working round the clock. "Though you won't have to worry about being pinned down. I know its probably not the most glamorous work, being a courier, but it keeps you from having to read the same book five times over." Only five times, if one was lucky.

____

"I understand that everyone on this floor is very busy. That's why I am here." She pointed out as she shuffled her belongings into a more manageable configuration for carrying. Her loose brown hair, the exact color of buttered toast, got shoved back impatiently as she stood up, though her fingers had paused by the bridge of her nose before the gesture changed to doing something with her hair.

Her sharp green gaze darted to the chain he had tugged as she gave a wry smile. "It seems like you might be pressed for time, Mr. Simonov. Shall we limit this tour to the needs of the moment? If you are really in a hurry, I could just take a photo of an emergency exit map and fill in the pertinent information."

Her smile was a little mischievous as she revealed that trick from her repertoire, since that was someone few people ever thought about. Of course, some of those maps were nearly useless, but most of the time, in government buildings at least, they were pretty detailed, with every room listed and to scale.

____

Simonov took the thought into considering, lingering on it for a moment as the pair neared a turn in the hall, slowing as they neared the corner. It wasn't a bad idea, really, and he was already knee-deep in putting together a reason - rather, an excuse - for why the position that lady Stier was filling was vacant, among other things. "That's... not a bad idea, your ladyship. I hope that you'll forgive me if I try to keep things as brief as possible?" It wasn't out of disrespect, the man, like everyone else here, was simply busy beyond reason. Systematically the Oriyak showed Isabelle to each of the different bureaus, one for every form of media known in the Hegemony, and briefly went over the various offices of importance. The various heads of each bureau, as well as their lieutenants, were noted, as she would likely be ferrying files and papers between the lot of them. It was only at Dr. Brockmann's office that the curt tour was interrupted, the door opening without warning, almost startling Anastas as the spectacled doctor looked the Oriyak over for but a moment before speaking, his eyes shifting to Isabelle.

"... this is Eichenger's replacement then, Simonov?" The younger man was about to speak, to apologize for blocking the door, as well as to explain Isabelle's position and even why she was here when he realized that Norbert had already figured that out for himself. It was one of the few reasons, if any, that Anastas ever left his office. Simply enough he nodded, confirming Brockmann's assumption, which elicited something of a smile from the man. The folder that he held in the crook of his arm was brought forward, less of an offer and more of a demand, the thing bearing no mark or indication as to what it contained. "Then I can actually get back to my work instead of doing your job, lady Stier." A brief look was paid to the commoner beside her, once she'd taken the documents. "Good day." The door shut firmly enough that it caused Anastas to recoil briefly, though the sigh that he let slip was more due to the man's words than his actions.

"My apologies, lady Stier." He managed, shaking his head for a moment before glancing to Isabelle and the folder she now held. "Dr. Brockmann makes up in knowledge what he lacks in tact." And, truthfully, Simonov himself didn't know if he could maintain any degree of etiquette were it that he were subjected to half as much opera as that man was on a daily basis. "But it looks like we've your first bit of work." Far less intense hands offered themselves to take the folder, if only so Anastas could see where it was that it would be sent to, depending on what marks and stamps that the first page held. Once he had the chance his expression drooped, if only slightly, before he sighed once again.

"... well, it seems you get to meet the minister. Would you like for me to show you the way, or...?"

____

Isabelle seemed to get more and more tense every time Simonov mentioned her title, so much so that it was a relief to have some work to do and someone that expected her to do it. She reached eagerly for the folder, muttering something about bureaucracy getting in the way of actually getting things done. She even had a grateful smile for Dr. Brockmann for the temporary interruption.

Then the door snapped closed again and she was left with Anastas. At his comment on tact she gave an impatient huffing sound and yanked the folder back from the Oriyak. "The name is Isabelle. Belle is preferred, or Izzy, but if you can't bring yourself to call me any of those, merely 'Stier' is sufficient, since I doubt there is another one here. Enough with this lady this and lady that. I'm here to work and the title just gets in the way."

After briefly consulting her map, she pointed in the direction she thought the Minister's office would be. "That way?", she asked, raising her eyebrows questioningly at Simonov to see if he would confirm she got it right, or correct her.

____

For a moment in her small tirade, Anastas wondered why the Vitestovakians bothered with these people, though the reputation of the Stovaks in general was a good enough, reason he supposed. Already the Stiervolk as a whole seemed to ignore the laws of warfare, but this one seemed content to ignore the conventions of conversation, putting Simonov into a difficult position. Even if she were commonborn as himself, it would take some time before he'd dare to use her given name, at least in a professional sense, and the added issue of her parentage didn't help him. It almost seemed as if he would short-circuit for a moment before he managed to speak. "... that's the way, I-Isabelle." He struggled with that, her given name grating against his better judgement as he spoke it. At the very least no one was here to hear it.

"Third door on the left." He added, looking now to his pocket watch, checking the time to see if he might excuse himself before this situation got any more awkward and ate any more of his time up. "You know where to find me if you've any questions. Give her majesty my regards." Quickly enough he slipped away, leaving Isabelle to carry the folder to its destination - an office on the western side of the building, the window inside granting a beautiful view of the Supreme Promenade that lead to the Reichsplatz some two miles away, the Gotteshalle easily visible towering into the sky. The Kaiserin reviewed what material had been forwarded to her with little note, her stylus simply moving to impart a checkmark or an x, depending on whether or not she approved. More often than not it was the former, trusting her subordinates, though it was unfair to say that they were without flaws.

Still, she had yet to see anything from Dr. Brockmann's department today, and awaited it as eagerly as one could such a thing.

____

Since the folder was not sealed, Isabelle was nosy as she walked and looked at the first page again. She'd probably have to learn all the sending codes pretty quickly after all, and it was better to get familiar with the format as quickly as possible. Plus she was a little curious about exactly how the work was done, since she had ambitions for her own advancement. Advancement she did not want tied to her family in any way.

If she had been able to do it, she wouldn't have applied under the name of Stier at all, and been content to be an anonymous worker and rise only on her own merit. However, with all the thorough checks that were done on identity-- Well, it was safer and wiser to be honest.

Her quick, efficient steps, in practical flats instead of the more stylish heels, would soon lead her to the door in question. There she hesitated. Of course she Knew who was supposed to be in that office. If it had been anyone else, she would have just let herself in quietly, left the folder, and been on her way. But one didn't just barge in on an empress, much less a goddess. Maybe not even a minister. This was another reason why she had wanted to work her way up instead of shooting from the entry level job to something on the top floor. Dealing with her father and siblings had taught her all the wrong instincts and observation was her best tool, if only she got a chance to use it.

The hesitation wouldn't be obvious to anyone watching. It was probably normal for people to steel their nerve before knocking on that particular door.

It was a shock to come face to face with Josephine Kampf anyway, but for unexpected reasons. Isabelle was struck not by the view or the grandeur, but how ordinary she was. Beautiful to be sure, but still, just like herself in so many ways. Izzy made an awkward move like she wasn't sure how far to bow, or if she should kneel instead, before advancing with the folder. It was hard to keep her eyes respectfully lowered when she wanted to stare and confirm her initial impression of what divinity was like in person.

"From Dr. Brockmann. Do you have anything to send out, er, ma'am?" Meeting the Kaiserin was not covered in any etiquette class the young lady had ever taken. Taking the cues of the more relaxed clothing styles and the deliberate lack of imperial styling, she thought that maybe this was the place 'The Austran Rose' might go to relax.

If she were right, taking the more casual route would quickly be confirmed. If she was wrong, well, at least she still got to meet one of The Kampfs and firmly beat her sister in their constant game of one-up before being jailed, or executed, or what ever form of punishment there might be for not groveling before the Empress.

____

"Enter." Came Kampf's words are the light knock that sounded upon the door to her office, the Empress making sure to finish the paragraph she was reading before looking up to this newcomer just as Isabelle finished her strange bow-like motion. Such a sight evoked a twitch in Josefine's brow, unsure what to make of that but keeping the thought to herself, instead perking at the mention of Dr. Brockmann. The younger Kampf's eyes darted to the folder, taking it once she had the chance to be read soon enough, though they quickly returned to the lady Stier. Josefine knew the face, or rather the features, well enough as those typical of the masters of Stockberg, though she hadn't expected the Stier she had seen on paper to be taking the role of general secretary - it was a refreshing sight, as far too often individuals of that strata seemed content to glide on the weight of their name and not their own merit.

Though Isabelle was hardly dressed improperly she lacked the stiff formality that others seemed keen on, and indeed that Josefine herself reflected dressed as she was in her uniform, though the Empress wasn't sure yet if that worked in the young woman's favor or not. "I do, though I'll have to get them for you." The 'Austran Rose', the sobriquet that Josefine had earned from the Coalition thanks to her broadcasts across the Garden, began to shuffle certain folders together, others still lingering on her desk despite having already been read. Josefine would send the rejects off with Isabelle first, and then have her return for those that passed final inspection. "Though I recognize your face, I fear you have me at a disadvantage, lady Stier."

Almost everyone recognized her own though only a few got the chance to see the Empress in such a light, clad in the brown of her office as the propaganda minister and without any of the trappings of her house - the onyx uniform or darksome makeup - though it seemed that even as a mortal minister the denizens of the RVM still regarded her with reverence. The woman was still slipping various folders into her hands, putting together something of a stack for the newest secretary as she continued, looking back to Isabelle once she had them all together in hand. "What brings you to the capital?"

____

Isabelle waited patiently, smiling a little at seeing the empress work like anyone else. It was reassuring that even one that had done so much still felt the need to do more. It was soothing, and Izzy found herself not having to remember to keep the calm expression on her features, since it came naturally for once.

"I'm the youngest of the Margrave's family. Isabelle. Most people just call me 'Belle', ma'am." She answered easily enough, though a faint pink stained her cheeks briefly at the insolence of offering her nickname.

"Me? Oh. I wanted to earn my own way. My brothers are content to contend for our father's title, but my sister and I are pretty much on our own. This seemed like the best place to use my talents." She didn't mention how she hated to just coast on the allowance her father let her have, and the fear of what either of her brothers would do when they claimed the title themselves. As the youngest, and least favored of the four, her position was precarious at best. Work was both a welcome distraction, and a back-up plan, should everything else collapse.

____

The matron of the imperial house paid little heed, good or ill, to the smile that the youngest Stier wore - it was of no offense to Josefine, though by the same token it was not of any particular note. It was pleasant to be around people who didn't frown all the time, or, in her dear brother's case, frowned with everything but their lips. "Ah! Isabelle. I couldn't quite recall all the names of this latest generation, except that... one. Conrad." Yes, Conrad, the lecher. He'd already made quite a scene or three amongst the nobility, both of the Kampfs regretting that they could call such a man kin, even if distantly. "Regardless, I am glad to see my cousins applying themselves to something more than the family business, if you will." Her own situation wasn't all that different in truth, though Josef had certainly started her down this path it was now a project almost entirely of her own concoction, though he is still more than welcome to make suggestions.

Were it that Isabelle had the gall to say such a thing concerning her family and her own merit, she would've found a receptive, if not professionally disinterested, ear. Josef's lessons, at least in regards to the nobility, had taken root in Josefine's mind in her younger days, and she regarded the content and the lazy with the same disdain as her brother. So, to discover that a Stier, especially the immediate relation of that drunkard Conrad, would possess such an aptitude, or at least say that she possessed such, would have been a pleasant thing to find. Isabelle could have done much worse, already she was in a positive light as far as the feminine half of the Saren God was concerned, though whether or not the young woman could deliver on her sentiment in action would be the real challenge.

"If you plan on staying here long-term, we'll have to see how you look in khaki, Isabelle." Kampf paid the young woman a knowing smile as she offered the stack of folders that she'd pieced together, the various holosheets and documents contained within them dark as they waited to be read by whom they were addressed to. "I am afraid that the joke is true." That one from the Coalition that had managed to make its way here, even to the homeworld: in the Supremacy, everyone has a uniform. The difference was, here at the ministry, Josefine understood that she commanded neither a military nor a paramilitary - this was an office, and it would be administrated accordingly.

"These are the rejections, addressed individually. Once you have those out, come back and I should have the accepted pieces ready."

____

"Everyone remembers Conrad. He is very flamboyant." Isabelle admitted with a wry smile, and that was as close as she would come to criticizing any of her family. At least, where anyone besides her cats could hear her at least.

"Khaki is unkind to my complexion, unfortunately. It makes me look like a slice of toast." She laughed at the thought, not unwilling, just honest. Again she attempted to adjust her glasses before remembering she didn't have them anymore and adjusting her hair instead. Which was part of the reason she left it loose, since it covered that little quirk nicely.

She accepted the armload of documents without complaint, tilting her head as she looked at Josephine. There was a question burning in her eyes, but she dared not to ask. Not yet. Perhaps never. Still, it was an interesting thought, that they might have something in common.

"Yes, ma'am. It might take me a little longer than you are used to though. I have to actually learn the codes." Izzy was already backing towards the door as she admitted her unfamiliarity, as well as her intent to remedy it. She just didn't want to inconvenience her new boss with waiting for her.

____

The Empress refrained from the 'Unfortunately.' that hung on the edge of her tongue on the note of Conrad, simply sharing in the smile Isabelle wore. Certainly if anyone was entitled to speak freely on the matter it was Josef and herself, but understanding that it was in poor taste to do so, even if it was her right, was what separated the Kampfs from such individuals as Conrad. "I simply enjoy the change of pace from black, myself." Josefine murmured, glad to get out of the uniform she nearly constantly wore in public, able to enjoy her office and duties as minister of propaganda as an escape from that of her birthright. "It's not the most flattering, but..." She trailed off for a moment, mind lingering on the thought that the uniform, the position, was hers and hers alone - not Josef's, not something bought with her name but her doctorates, her work.

The folders slipped from her hand easily enough, still lingering on that most pleasant of thoughts as Isabelle voiced her concerns, the elder woman lost in thought for a moment as Stier's words fell on her ears. Only once the other had finished, backing away, did Kampf realize what the other had said, Josefine moving to shake her head. "It's your first day, Isabelle, I understand." She wasn't born omnipotent herself, despite what some believed to the contrary. "It's more important that they get here with haste, sending them out... isn't quite so pressing." Some treated it with an equal sense of dread, though Isabelle was exempt from any such worry.

She was simply the messenger.

____

Of course, having the name helped too. How much was a matter for debate though, and the young Stier suspected that neither she nor the female Kampf would be where they were without the backing of their names. Never mind how good they were at what they did, who you knew and who knew you would always make a difference.

Isabelle gave a grateful smile before she turned to hurry about her task. Hopefully, if she stopped by the desk that was supposed to be her's, there would be a list of the codes she needed to know where to take the files. If it was logical, she'd remember it soon without having to consult the chart. If not, well, she could always add more information to the map photo that she had already added so many notes to.

It was likely that her rounds would take even longer than mere unfamiliarity would account for, since Izzy had to introduce herself around and encourage certain folks to treat her as the secretary first and the Lady Stier as a distant second. There was always at least one that would not want to ask a noble woman to do her job. She would have to bulldoze them into giving into the needs of the office instead of some old-fashioned idea of what birth rank meant.

Sometimes that was even a little fun.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Ottoman and Krysis

Once the young lady Stier had departed Josefine took the chance to reflect on the encounter, stylus hanging in the air above a holosheet she was about to sign off on. Certainly she knew amongst the nobility, for both men and women, that many were keen on earning their way, on proving themselves through merit instead of simple birthright, but they were the minority. Minority though they were, in the Kampfs' mutual opinion they were the crème de la crème of their nation, a social strata with the best facets of both common and noble society. Thus it was always a pleasant sort of encounter to meet one, though Josefine had yet to have the chance to work with one. Perhaps Isabelle Stier could back her words with action.

Moving to run through her signature with patience, in contrast to the hurried scribble that Josef so often produced, the Empress pondered the thought that had occurred to Isabelle. It was true, she supposed, that men and women in their position wouldn't have gotten half so far as they had were it not for the initial boost that their name imparted, but some romantic part of her liked to imagine that her doctorates were earned entirely with her own mind and merit instead of her blood and reputation. The distant, muffled notes of a march being played on the Supreme Promenade beyond the window caught her ear, likely the changing of the guard on one of the victory arches, drawing her eyes back to the wide portal to the world beyond. It was a gallery, the Promenade and its arches and monuments, dedicated to heroism, perseverance and pride, the lust-filled ideals of a people who yearned to go back to a home that they had never seen or known. The distant dome of the Gotteshalle, soon to be framed by the setting sun, only reinforced Josefine's internal musing: this was her home, her mother, not Scatter - this was the peak of Scatterran civilization, not some overgrown wilderness - and if she could only convince her people of that then they might blossom, truly come into their own as masters of the stars and their fate, and all the galaxy would tremble at their potential.

But first she had to convince Josef, and the scars of the past were not easily put aside.

Such a reminder cut short her heady fantasies, blinking away the thoughts as she turned from the sight back to her desk, returning to the few folders that remained for her to give her judgment one way or the other on. For now it was best to focus on her work, her passion, and leave such thoughts for another time.

---

Quietly enough Anastas slipped through the halls, his tie properly fixed this time, his pace far less harried from what it had been earlier. Typically things slowed as the day ground on, and towards the end the the workday things hardly resembled the chaotic mess that things were starting out. Within a few minutes he stood at the door to Isabelle's office, a single folder in hand, waiting for her to return from her rounds, figuring it best to hand these off instead of just leaving them to be found.

____

By that time, Isabelle had dispensed with the offending blue jacket, though she couldn't get rid of the skirt without really shocking everyone. So she was finishing up the reject round in just the white blouse and navy mini, and rather pleased with how things were going. When possible, she had introduced herself merely as 'Isabelle, the new general secretary', and not mentioned being Lady Stier at all. Of course, if asked for her surname, she would give it, but it was not something she volunteered.

So, seeing Anastas at the door to her office made her sigh and take some of the starch out of her shoulders as she approached him. Empty handed at last, she had intended to stop in and see if anything had landed on her desk while she was out, and then go straight back to the minister's office as requested. Now it looked like she would have to deal with the Oriyak again.

"Can I help you, Mr. Simonov.?" was the only thing she could think of to say to him.

____

He sighed at that greeting, figuring that she was likely less than pleased to run into him once again, and pondered for a moment just what to say before letting that caution go to the wind. "I've your papers, Miss Stier." He held the folder up for a moment, taking a moment to glance at it before offering it to the woman. Were it that she wasn't on her way to her office, he figured that she wasn't long from doing so. "Some waivers regarding our work here in the Ministry, nothing you haven't signed before." The Supremacy loved redundant documentation, if for no other reason than certainty. "State plan alterations, if you want to change the medical programs or any of that mess, as well."

With a shrug, he passed the documents off, murmuring as he did. "I don't mean to keep you, if you're still busy." A slight bow of his head came at that, slipping away not long there after.

____

Isabelle touched Anastas' arm as he passed, "Thank you. For the papers too.", but she didn't seem to want to keep him. Something about the way he acted made her felt guilty, no matter what she did. Either guilty for not living up to the self-set standards for her 'rank', or guilty for making him feel bad. So, watching him go, she sighed again and leaned against the door of her office for a few seconds with a discontented twist to her lips.

She'd carry the folder he gave her as she stepped in to check her desk and scoop up whatever was in her inbox. Then the young secretary would hurry back to the minister's office as as she glanced over the work that had accumulated while she was busy running around. Maybe she could do some of it in route, rather than needing to sit down. Already, she could tell she was going to be needing a messenger bag to help keep things organized as she zoomed about the office.

____

The brief touch that the lady Stier gave him stayed the man, if only briefly, as he looked to her curiously. She spoke with determination, a will, to defy social convention, if not her station, and not such words seemed to be cemented in action. Some houses prided themselves on their close relations with their commons, but House Stier was not one of them. This was something that Anastas did not expect, and wasn't sure how to react - but it was a pleasant sort of surprise, the kind that people never expect. He debated replying to her, mind working at the choice of speaking. 'You're welcome,' lingered in his mind, and just behind his lips, for a few moments, held back only by her desire to be addressed with her given name.

Without speaking he moved away, electing to work on mending what gap that might have developed between them later, only offering her a nod as he left.

---

It had been some days, not quite a week, since the newest secretary had graced the halls of the ministry, and things continued much as they always had. A veritable hive of activity in the morning graudally descending into a more lulled state as the day wound on, though on the days when the minister was present things seemed to remain tense, even as the end of their singular shift neared. Josefine wasn't there every day of course, being the Kaiserin as well as the Minister of Public Enlightenment meant that the woman had her hands full most of the time, whether it was here at the RVM, at the Gotteshalle or her own home, and typically she was only present at the ministry two or three days out of the week. But she relished what chances she had to work as a professional, and not as a monarch or political figure.

That was just the reason why everyone regarded her attendance with such trepidation, no one wanted to be the one to make her escape the slightest bit stressful.

There were times when she welcomed the stress of a stupid idea or foolish subordinate though, especially when the lives of others or the fate of systems didn't hang in the balance. That wasn't to belittle the work they were doing here in the ministry, as they were waging a war for the hearts and minds of the people and the youth, but it was a fare more latent sort of war - here songs came in lieu of cartridges, artists instead of commanders, films took the war to their intangible foe and not grand interstellar campaigns. If someone messed up here it was easily fixed, relatively, and Josefine knew that the Landwächter stood by to enforce the ministry's wishes.

Thus hardly anyone dared to enter her office today, Josefine busy as could be for having been away the past two days, working through the stack of files that had accumulated in her absence. Naturally the masses of ministry officials deferred the duty to someone else, more often than not sending the files to Isabelle, if not giving them to her directly. The latest, deposited by a harried and almost nervous sort, was a folder that bore the name Morgenstern on its cover.

____

How curious. Someone deliberately waited until the Minister was actually present to drop off a new project. Isabelle gave the Morgenstern folder an uneasy glance as she let it be added to the stack she was just about to take in to Josefine's office. Most of the other files and folders she had placed on The Desk had already been checked over, and places she had been uncertain of highlighted. Her job was to make things as easy as possible for the Kasierin, after all, and that had been part of her instructions on previous days.

The first batch of folders that Isabelle had 'checked' had gotten summaries typed up (no more than two paragraphs each) and been sorted into stacks of varying degrees of acceptability, because she wanted to make sure she was doing things correctly. On the second time that Josefine came in, the practice of highlighting had been used, and the summaries dispensed with, except on the borderline cases where Izzy didn't feel comfortable making any sort of decision at all.

This new folder, right on top, was something that Isabelle hadn't even heard of, must less have gotten a chance to check over for the Minster, but it was too late to stop and check it Now. The secretary had an armload and just let herself into The Office quietly, to sort the new set of folders into the various stacks, leaving out Morgenstern so she could at least glance it over.

That was how Izzy ended up sitting in the Minister's office (probably on the floor), trying not to disturb Josefine as she read this new... graphic novel? Naturally, the youngest Stier was not completely successful in stifling her reactions and would probably be soon called upon to surrender the cause to her boss.

____

The Kaiserin, or rather the minister, had arrived in good time that morning, always prompt whenever she did elect to attend her station as Minister of Public Enlightenment. So Isabelle would have found her: reading over the various pieces that were left for her, only taking a moment to look up from where she sat to see who it was that opened her door without knocking. It was a bold sort of thing to do, but as general secretary Josefine expected Isabelle to do it, time was of the essence here, especially after such a length of time away.

It was curious that the young lady Stier lingered though, and after another two files inspected - one approved and the other sitting in figurative limbo - the empress couldn't help but cast a glance to the young woman, wondering both why she was still here and why she sat in the floor, of all places. Kampf's brow furrowed, her lips twisted to one side in an unspoken query, leaving it unsaid until she'd reviewed another file and Isabelle still remained. The khaki-clad woman sat her stylus down, making sure not to let it clatter or strike the desk, and spun slightly in her chair.

"Isabelle... why are you in the floor?" There were seats in the office, after all.

____

"Because I am still deciding where to put this." Isabelle answered, blushing faintly as she stood up and brushed at the back of her skirt with her free hand. "I thought it would be something to just glance over and file, but-- I'm sorry, but it is amusing."

She gave an uncertain grin and shrugged, "I can take it back to my desk to read, but I think you might enjoy this Morgenstern thing. Even if it is unlikely to make it to the public." The youngest Stier was reluctant to surrender the folder though, having been deeply into the plot and curious about how it might end.

____

Well, as far as Josefine knew Isabelle she knew that she was a woman that was not easily impressed by the sort of things that came across their desks. To see that she was amused by such a thing - enough to sit in the floor of her own office for some time reading it - did incline Josefine to think that there might be something to it. The empress returned Stier's smile, a brief hand coming up to accept the folder, if the other woman would give it to her.

"If you would permit a brief interruption, Isabelle?" She would let her secretary finish it once she had glanced over Morgenstern, but she couldn't help some hint of curiosity regarding this file. "I admit, you've piqued my curiosity with it." Once it was in hand the Austran wasted little time in opening the folder proper, looking over the general summaries and reasoning before discovering that the thing was a comic-book - of all things.

The Empress felt her eyebrows climb unintentionally, surprised that such a thing was submitted. Surely the department heads would be afraid of it being labeled as Civist or some other brand of traitorous defeatism in the Coalite style. "... if you don't mind my asking, Isabelle," Josefine started, reading the first few pages as she did. "What is it about this that catches your eye?"

____

By that time, Isabelle had made use of one the chairs she had ignored before, though she perched on the edge of the seat, as if expecting to jump up and run to do more tasks in mere moments. She folded her hands on her lap as she tilted her head in thought before she would try to explain.

"First, the format is unusual. Usually, a story doesn't actually need pictures and is written purely in words. I could go on about that subject, but suffice it to say that humans are visually based in our senses and so artwork paired with a plot is very powerful, though less precise in story-telling than pure words." The young Stier seemed to have forgotten where she was, falling into a tone one mostly heard in academic settings, where the students were making presentations for the teachers perhaps.

"Secondly, the portrayal of Pysch-ops is unusual, and rather refreshing. Usually they are shown as a boogeyman of sorts. I met many people that were afraid to be exceptional because they believed that they might get kidnapped, or executed, or arrested if they stood out too much." She shrugged a little, uncomfortable with getting near to admitting she had also been wary of such things. As a member of house Stier, she had demanded more of herself anyway, and had refused to bow to such fears.

"Lastly, there are tones here and there of hero worship towards yourself and your brother. And the way it was delivered, just as I was leaving my office and was put right on top. It reminds me of a very clumsy--" She gave Josefine a calculating look then, as if she were wondering if she should say what she really thought, or clean it up a bit.

"You were tutored at home, right? Never did the whole high school and college thing, with the hormones running wild and the boys loosing their minds? Because this had the tone of a love-confession I got once. Some boy that couldn't fit two words together in the hall, but he wrote out some strange space opera and gave it to me. I think he was thinking I would read it and fall in love with his mind. Maybe the author of this Morgenstern had a similar thought?"

____

Josefine listened attentively, not minding that the woman spoke her mind, letting the young lady Stier move the conversation whichever way she pleased - whichever way suited her explanation best. In all actuality the Empress rather liked that the woman seemed to forget where she was, speaking to her on a more personal, though still professional, level than most dared. It was a pleasant change of pace, and Isabelle presented a myriad of good points, each of which was well-reasoned enough for the Empress' tastes as she continued to look over this work in front of her. It certainly did have a sort of bombastic nature than other things lacked - bravado, that was the term.

At Isabelle's pause, Josefine looked up from her desk, regarding her with a curious look as it seemed the other was trying to choose her words. Josefine shook her head at the question, having been tutored at home for most of her education. "By the time I was in college I was already rather... segregated." She mused, doing her best not to interrupt Isabelle's further thoughts. Now that was a curious one, and something that she didn't quite expect to hear.

"... perhaps they did." Came her murmur, looking back to the comic for a few moments as she contemplated what Stier had shared with her, mulling over the thoughts. "I can't fault your assessment, Isabelle. You know your craft." Nevermind that the same style had been experiencing great success in the Coalition for some time now, centuries even. It wouldn't hurt to give their own go at it. "Perhaps it's time we approve Morgenstern, tentatively." A careful hand moved to close the folder, offering it back to the younger woman.

"You don't think the work is..." The Empress pursed her lips, glancing to their flank for a moment as she searched for a word. "Heretical, in any manner, do you?"

____

Isabelle gladly received the folder back, though Josephine's final question made her eyes pop with surprise. A moment later the younger woman was laughing and grinning behind her hand, greatly amused about something.

When she could explain, she actually had tears in her eyes, "Oh, golly, I'm sorry to laugh, but that was priceless. Ma'am, you are revered as a goddess in the flesh. You asking Me if something is blasphemy is--"

Isabelle didn't bother trying to find the words to explain why it was so shocking, just shaking her head and thoroughly glad that this was the final proof she was looking for. To the young Stier, Josefine Kampf had shown herself to be a woman, however extraordinary, in an awkward position. Probably very lonely too. It was a situation she was very familiar with herself, and her empathy for her boss grew by leaps and bounds.

____

The Empress was initially confused, uncertain as to the outburst of laughter, brows knitting slightly in concern at this seemingly manic outburst from her secretary. It didn't occur to the elder Austran that it was the simple deliver of her question that had sparked such a thing, at least not at first. Gradually the sense of it began to dawn on her, and a light smile crept upon her lips. Blush forced its way through what makeup Kampf wore, folding her hands together on top of her desk as she did her best to find her words. "... scripture and its doctrine had always been, ah... more of Josef's field than mine."

There were time when she still didn't have it all nailed down, and a second pair of eyes on anything never hurt, especially something new like this. "I like to deal in more quantifiable aspects of society." Josefine offered, doing her best to say something that might lessen her immediate embarrassment. Silence fell on her for a few moments thereafter, the Empress glancing about her desktop to try and organize her thoughts before she finally looked back up to her assistant.

"Thank you, Isabelle." She managed quietly, glad for the encouragement. "Now, I fear I must get back to these submissions..."

____

Isabelle nodded thoughtfully then and shrugged, "Even if it is a little 'heretical', it is in a direction that our fearless leader must approve of. I think it is good to have a few borderline things out and about, to relieve the natural impulse to rebel that every adolescent suffers."

She made a waffling gesture with the folder, then added, "It's good press for a branch that solely needs a more positive image. For that alone, I would put it in the 'approve' stack."

When dismissed, Isabelle gave a brisk nod and headed out of The office promptly. Though once the door was shut, there was a happy tune being hummed as the young Stier went back to her own work. With an extra spring in her step she even had a smile for those that she was usually merely professional to.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Ottoman and Krysis

A few days later...

It was a nice thought. Really. The yellow tea rose had done well, on the corner of Isabelle Stier's desk, for an entire week. She wasn't sure who exactly had sent it to her, since the card had just been a generic 'Thinking of you' and had written at the bottom, in a hand she had not recognized, simply 'Stier'. Which might have been to make sure it got to the right person, or might have been an overture from one of her relatives.

The slender young woman stood back and frowned at the yellowed leaves. The stalks still seemed mostly green, but there were spots on the ends that were turning brown. All the petals had fallen off of the last bloom, and she even hesitated to remove the dead blossom. "Damn you. I followed the instructions. Why are you looking like this?"

Such a small thing, but Izzy's eyes were full of tears, and she clutched one hand at her chest as if to keep her heart from thudding out of her ribcage.

It wasn't an unusual sight to see the Minister walking through the halls, though it was usually one that was regarded with respect and a wide berth, though there was no such reason for the latter today - no, Josefine wore an otherwise amiable look, no one was the target of her ire today. The Empress simply sought a confirmation and would rather stretch her legs and walk for a bit than make a call. The Austran came to her secretary's door soon enough, a brief knock on it preceding her sticking her head in for what she intended to be just a brief visit.

"Isabelle, I meant to ask you earlier, did you submit the Morgenstern files to out-processing this morning?" She had wanted to tweak a thing or two if she hadn't, but if not then it wasn't anything that couldn't be let go.

Izzy sniffled and grabbed a tissue, but she was still wiping her face as she turned around, "No, ma'am. I was just about to.".

The folder was sitting on the edge of her desk where it had gotten sat when the young woman was distracted by the minor disaster of her dying rose. Izzy would take a moment to make sure she hadn't messed up her hair or smeared what little make-up she wore before reaching for the folder though, not wanting to embarrass the office by walking around with the evidence of her minor upset on her face.

The sound of the other's sniffles and the sight of Isabelle's face removed Josefine's preoccupation with work for now, concern playing across her brow as she stepped into the office proper. "Isabelle, what's wrong?" She didn't know too much of the other woman, and didn't know if it was improper of her to ask - it might have been a personal or family matter, after all - but it seemed to have shaken the otherwise steel-willed Stier, if only lightly.

Isabelle gave a wry smile and a bit of a shrug as she stepped out of the way of the sight of the sad little plant. "You can laugh. It's really stupid, but I feel bad about killing the poor thing. It's just very frustrating, because I thought I did it right."

Embarrassed and blushing a bit, she'd pick up the files she needed and murmured, "The pot looks nice at least. Maybe I'll try again...?"

The Empress paid her colleague a soft smile at that, looking soon to the decrepit rose, stepping over to push back the leaves and eye it. "It's not stupid, Isabelle. I feel the same way when I mess my own up." Certainly she'd grown familiar with quite a few plants and flowers, of Scatterran heritage and otherwise, but she was always running into new things from new worlds, brought to the Imperial Gardens to add to the bounty there.

Sometimes they took to Tannhäuser, sometimes they didn't. "It is a nice pot, isn't it? I'll get you something for it." Josefine murmured, doing her best to try to see what the other had done without asking. A slight curve came to her brow as she tested the soil, though she still wore a smile as she looked to Izzy.

"What would you like?"

Izzy was trying not to panic, but her smile was a little sick at the thought of accepting a plant from her boss... and wondering if she would be in trouble if she accidentally killed a second plant. Then she took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was Josefine. She was not one of the other people that had set her up to fail so many times before. When she exhaled, Isabelle's smile was more natural.

"Something easy, maybe? For a beginner? And please don't feel you need to go out of your way, just tell me what to get and I'm sure I can find it. I think." Izzy reached over to run her finger around the lip of the pot as she added, "I'd never had a plant before."

There was no ulterior motive to any of it, at least none that Josefine herself was aware of. The Empress gauged the size of the pot and pondered for a moment, going over what she had in the gardens that might suit Isabelle's skill. She was about to name a suggestion when the lady Stier noted that this was her first. That warranted a curious glance from the Empress, who didn't think any less of Izzy for it.

"Never?" She inquired, though she'd already been given the answer. Thought slipped over her visage for just a moment before Kampf shook her head. "No, it's a gift, Isabelle." Beyond simple courtesy, this way she could make sure that Isabelle was getting something appropriate, and not running into something blind.

Perhaps columbines would suit her. "Is there any particular color you'd like?"

"I suppose I should be loyal and say 'yellow', but I really don't care for that color." Izzy sighed, then gave Josefine a wistful smile, "While I was growing up, they pushed yellow and red on me every chance they got, so naturally I like blue and purple better." Then she laughed and blushed as she shrugged, "Really, anything that grows and looks nice would be wonderful. Even something that might be called a weed--"

She stopped then and looked a little startled, then Izzy grinned, "I'd forgotten. Wild sweet peas. I had a whole garden of them when I was little, because no one else wanted them. I had to beg the gardeners not to cut them down, and Mother let me keep them almost all summer."

The Kaiserin smiled at the other's honesty, glad that she felt comfortable enough to speak so plainly. The elder woman nodded in agreement, "You don't want to know how many black roses I've been given." She understood it was her color, it was one of the Supremacy's colors, but it simply did not belong on a flower. Of course they had been gifts, something meant to curry her favor or impress her but, more often than not it had the opposite effect.

Her brows arched at the notion, Josefine amused by the thought. "Wild sweet peas?" She smiled, "Well, that is a start." She didn't have much in the way of peas in her garden, decorative or edible. She would like to start a vegetable garden, even as opposed as Josef was to the thought - it was something she would at least like to try, for a time. It could be fun.

"... but I think I can find something blue or purple for you, Isabelle."

"I'm glad I didn't get one for you then. I saw black roses for sale someplace and I thought about it, but they looked kinda sick. Mother keeps pressing me to get something for you, ma'am, and your talent with plants is well known, so naturally that is the sort of thing she pushes." Izzy admitted frankly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I ought to send her a rosebush. The mustard and ketchup kind, because they are her colors. Never mind that she has a garden full of them already." The slender young woman grinned at the thought, though she knew it would do no good at all to try to teach her mother that lesson.

That drew a smile out of Josefine, who gave a slight shake of her head. "Get something if you feel like it." The Empress would much rather receive a trinket bought in a passing thought than a finely-cut gemstone purchased with political motivation. A life of administration and procedure had left the fairer Kampf in admiration of small social gestures, of the casual, comfortable nature of things that the commons took for granted, and had given her more than ample opportunity to grow weary of the stiff propriety and scheming manner of the nobility.

It was a necessary nuisance, kept for the sake of efficiency and longevity.

The young woman's grin brought a light chuckle out of the other, who brought a hand to her lips in thought. She had red and yellow roses in her gardens, certainly - though they might not be the 'ketchup and mustard' that Isabelle's mother preferred. Josefine posed a question to her colleague, hoping that it wasn't too sudden.

"What are your plans for this weekend, Isabelle?" The ministry was officially closed, though some came in and worked over the brief break. Kampf wouldn't put it past Isabelle to do such.

"I tend to use the weekends for catching up on the little things that get passed by during the week. The independent reviews and such things that we don't deal with directly, but they are not exactly pressing. Did you have an assignment for me?" Izzy looked at Josefine rather hopefully, as if she found the prospect of something to fill the hours very pleasing.

"Yes, of sorts." She mused, hand falling back down to examine the rose once more, taking a spare leaf or two between her fingers. Isabelle was industrious, wasn't she? Perhaps this wouldn't upset her work too badly. "Do you think you could clear your schedule for the Sabbath?" Josefine asked, thinking that the day of rest would be the better of the two to choose.

"I need you to pick something up from my home, if you can."

"Of course, ma'am. I would be pleased to help out anyway I can." Isabelle tilted her head and gave a quizzical smile at Lady Kampf. Maybe she was misreading the situation, since it seems like things were going back to 'all business', but had seemed very friendly for a moment there.

"Umm, if I am not mistaken, you have several residences? Which one?"

"The palace." Josefine murmured, pleased with Isabelle's eager attitude. She did her name justice, even if her kin didn't. "The Adlerhorst or whatever they call it on the extranet." She wasn't overly concerned with that, though in all reality she might have very well been the one to give it that name. Kampf pretended that it was the architect's doing, most of the time.

"How does midday sound? I don't want to rush your morning."

Isabelle nodded slowly, and then grinned, "Would you like for me to pick up lunch on the way in? I bet you very rarely get a chance to eat take-away, and it might be a nice change of pace."

Josefine's brows climbed for a moment in surprise, the woman considering the thought for a moment before she nodded. "... that would. I was actually going to ask you if you minded taking lunch then, considering." But something like that might give the house staff a nice break, and she knew they could use it. Tending to a building that large was a hassle and meals only proved to harry the effort all the more, even as divided as the staff was. "Bring enough for three, if you could?"

"I think I can manage that. A take-away feast on the Sabbath sounds like fun actually. Any allergies or preferences I should know about?" The file again got sat down as the young Stier moved behind her desk to take notes, just in case.

"Farasi cuisine is the easiest to accommodate an unknown number of diners, since we can portion it out as needed." Izzy pointed out with a questioning look at Josefine to be sure it was acceptable to her.

"Nothing in particular - just nothing too spicy, if you could." She could handle most of the dishes, but Kasians in particular had a flair for making their food far more hot than almost everyone else, even the Vendragans. "More for me than anything else. Josef will eat whatever you put in front of him." She mused with a smile, pondering just how he would take this news.

He wouldn't mind too much, she was certain. Lunch with the lady Stier, and a visit to the Gardens. It wasn't anything that would step on his toes or muck up his plans.

"I like to be able to taste the food too, and not have to scramble for a glass of milk, so I understand what you mean about not too spicy." Izzy crinkled her face in sly amusement before her pen stuttered on her notes to herself. It was a constant shock to her that other people actually liked their siblings and wanted to spend time with them. Much more so when the sibling in question wielded the political power of such magnitude. The hesitation was minor before the young noble woman smiled up at Lady Kampf.

"My sister is the same way. I think it is something about military training that just makes flavor kinda irrelevant. Sometimes I order things for her, when we have lunch together, just to see if she will finally say 'no thanks'." Or rather, 'fuck no', though Izzy did have enough loyalty to her family to not admit how rude and crude her sister could be.

It seemed that Isabelle and she shared the same opinions concerning their food. Josefine didn't think too much concerning the political positions of herself or her brother when it came to either of them - she had wielded such power, second only to him, since she was old enough to realize what it was. There was a time or two where she had considered what the Supremacy would be like without her brother at the helm, though those were unpleasant visions born of spite, and they lingered in her mind as an embarrassing moment might live on in anyone else's.

She had long suspected Josef's dietary habits, customs by this point, to be born from what training he had so long ago, though she never spoke to him about it. Josef had rarely been one for the gaudy decorations that so many of the nobility sported on their dress, their uniforms, the various badges and orders - what he wore was antiquated and sparse in comparison, but Josefine knew the insignia well enough. They were from the Volksrepublik, the Confederacy, and she had learned a long time ago not to speak to her brother about the Exodus. Josef wore decorations he had earned, at least as a commoner.

Without realizing the distant look that had come to settle over her face, Josefine spoke,"He's refused one or two dishes, surprisingly, but I think that was more out of having his fill than any sort of disagreement with him." The Empress smiled once more, the sort one wears when doing their best to look composed, as she returned Isabelle's gaze once more. "I apologize, Isabelle. I've probably cut into your time rather sharply, haven't I?"

"No apologies necessary. My time is your time, but I can always find more work to do." The younger woman gave a happy smile as she gathered up the files she needed for the moment once more, ready to get back to the grind. Though she pulled out the Morgenstern folder for Josefine, offering it without a word.

The Kaiserin took the folder in hand, tucking it under her arm as she nodded to Isabelle, glad that the other didn't find the personal moments here intrusive. Most shied away from her sight, no matter the context of her presence, if only because of her reputation and relations. "Don't feel obliged, Isabelle, work for work's sake does no one any good." The Austran turned on her heels, more out of reflex than intention, falling back into that habit as her mind turned to the palace and the Reichplatz.

"I'll see you this Sabbath, then." She murmured, turning to glance back at her colleague, Josefine's hand lighting on the doorknob as she did.

 

[Tiko]

as written by barney_fife

The Tannhäuser System
The Arrival of Imperial One

For the most part, the voyage carried on without a hitch, and the Oblong shaped Imperial One settled nicely in the core of the Scatterran Hegemony, the craft itself was a contrast to the previous Emperor's decision to travel in gaudy, overpowered capital ships. Prince chose a luxury liner refitted to an Imperial transport. Originally called the Olympic Carrier; Imperial One 556.26 meters bow to stern was not the largest or most impressive Aschen vessel, nor did it lack the armaments of the Military, instead it was escorted by a quintet of Raptor Talon starfighters.

The Captain of Imperial One carefully moved his hand along the controls, maneuvering the large craft into orbit above Tannhäuser, and slipping into whatever dedicated spacelane it was being assigned too.

"Control this is Imperial One, we're on approach and requesting landing protocols, preparing for atmospheric entry." The Captain hailed. "We have the passenger on board and are initiating landing procedures." The Captain said, while Prince was seated in his office, a mahogany lined room with oak desk, the flag of the Aschen Empire behind him. He paid little attention as the transport shook slightly, and peered out the window at one of the Raptor Talon fighters flying alongside his ship.

He was anticipating this meeting for some time, his security had already been chosen, the IIA had assigned one of it's field agents to oversee Prince's security. Special Agent Marlene Angel was tasked with posing as Prince's wife, while doubling as his security. She had been briefed on the operation, and knew what she had to do to protect the Emperor.

She sat across from him, though she had been contemplating what she did on Valore for some time, her debrief was short, and she was back on another assignment. The assignment that took her here, deep into the heart of the Scatterran Hegemony.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Ottoman

As Imperial One slipped through space near the Supremacy's political nexus, it passed underneath the titanic flagship of the Scatterran Empire, Kampf's own dreadnought, the Morningstar, as it was ushered into its approach. For several moments Imperial One would find itself shrouded in shadow beyond this gargantuan ship, hidden from Tannhäuser's single star, an intentional display for the foreigners - though whether this was a gesture of intimidation or a show of security was up for interpretation. The dreadnought didn't alter its course from the gradual, slow orbit of the world below, remaining a silent guardian of the homeworld as the Aschen vessel streaked towards its target.

"Received Imperial One, this is Saint Hochheim Imperial, Tower B, transmitting landing protocols and approach vectors as we speak. You are cleared for docking in bay B-6." The voice was practiced and professional, a man who was used to dealing with dignitaries from across the Supremacy and further abroad, "How copy? Over."

Already was the forementioned bay prepared for the Emperor's arrival, a conservative display highlighted primarily by the Landwächter, their armed contingents in formation ready to greet the foreign vessel. All along the bay hung the tricolor banners of the Supremacy, and standing directly across from the assembled honor guard stood a lone man, an Azrican who idly checked his pocket watch as they awaited Isambard's arrival.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Krysi, barney_fife, and Ottoman

As usual, Prince's newest secretary, was nearby, but not within line of sight. All he had to do was lift his voice a little, and any request he made, Jackie would see to.

The delicate-looking woman had calmed down a bit. She was no longer was in the state of terror that she had lived in when first reassigned to the Emperor. However she still preferred to be as unobtrusive as possible, especially when she feared that things might not go well and tempers might be high.

After all, there might be a shortage of balconies in space, but there were plenty of airlocks. Jackie knew she was an easy target, no matter how good she was at her job.

She had been tempted to let someone else accompany the Emperor on this trip, so she could stay in her lovely office and keep things moving smoothly on Langara. However, that seemed to be particularly heartless towards the under-secretary that would end up in that place and in the end, Jackie couldn't bring herself to offer up fresh meat in her place.

Besides, she wanted to see for herself what sort of people Prince found worthy to be his allies. That selfish thought had her peering at the views and her heart racing at the thought of coming face to face with these... well... xenos. Even in the Emperor and his 'wife' were not impressed with Tannhäuser, Dahlia Jacqueline Branson certainly was.

____

"Acknowledged, Tower B, we're initiating our approach vector coming in at two nine seven carom one two six, see you ground side. Checker is green; we have the ball." The Captain replied, before easing the transporter down towards the planet, as it's natural gravity began to overcome the artificial gravity of the transport ship, resulting in what could be described as a sense of vertigo.

Prince didn't say anything as the large planet came into view, only quietly let his eyes move from his secretary to his security. Compared to Jackie, Marlene was an imposing figure, though she was not all that large in size, her form fitting black dress, leather high-heels with a detachable heel, and an elegant ring worn across her middle and index fingers. This was no ordinary ring however, rather it was an easily concealable personal laser weapon. Marlene's orders were only to use the weapon in defense of the Emperor, though Prince knew that his security in the Hegemony was absolute, the Ministry of Defense and the Imperial Intelligence Agency were not convinced.

The dark veil of space eventually gave away to the skies of the Imperial capital, the city sprawled out below them as the transport began it's final descent into the spaceport.

"I want you both on your best behavior; I don't want to play my hand just yet. Jackie, I want you to remember everything you see, take notes, and read any treaties they propose carefully." He said, before he turned to Marlene.

"You; stick close and look pretty."

____

As if to punctuate the note of security, the moment that Imperial One and its escorts descended into Tannhäuser's atmosphere, a wing of jet-black Köppen Traums slipped into a box formation around the Aschen transport, silent guardians that carried the foreign formation towards the central starport of the Supremacy's capital. While not, perhaps, as visually bold a world as Neu-Lumen or Rienzi, Tannhäuser still held a certain air about it that one could hardly find anywhere else in the galaxy - not a single building across its surface exceeded ten stories in height, a massive exhibition of classical Scatterran architecture, punctuated heavily by the gothic Austran school. Rising, or rather towering over everything else was the focal point of the Supremacy itself, the Gotteshalle, a point that the formation circled around in a wide bank to approach the nearby starport.

Nearby being a relative term, of course - the place was several miles from their destination, but it was a short drive as those things went.

Soon enough the fighters peeled away, breaking formation to provide overwatch for the starport, and soon the convoy that would carry Isambard Prince to the Reichsplatz and the cabinet that awaited him. Alerted to the impending arrival, the Landwächter contingent readied itself, presenting arms for the arrival of the foreign monarch while the foreign minister returned the watch to his pocket, sighing briefly as he straightened himself.

____

Jackie nodded in acceptance of her role, even managing the briefest of smiles at being singled out in a positive way. A recording device was already in her pocket to make sure she had an aid to her memory. Various other objects that she might need were tucked about her person, from spare power sources to her personal camera, for souvenir pictures if she got a chance.

Her shoulder bag was nearly empty, being wide and flat, as well as padded, to be perfect for carrying sensitive or important objects. She even had a small sheaf of rice paper to further shield anything delicate that might be offered to her Emperor.

When Prince and Marlene stood up, Jackie surreptitiously checked their clothes to make sure they looked exactly how they were meant to, then faded back to just follow. She'd trail after the Emperor at a respectful distance, taking the occasional snapshot discreetly. They would need plenty of images for the archives and news after all.

For her part, the secretary had dressed to be forgettable, but professional in a plain business skirt-suit and subdued colors. Nothing she did could prevent her simple, elegant style from showing through, but she did her best not to interfere with the spectacle.

____

Prince nodded slightly, pleased that everything seemed to be falling into place quite nicely. The transport by now had settled into the spaceport, it's engines were winding down, and the Imperial Guard were taking their positions once the Jetway was moved to the doors of the Transport.

With the signal given, the Imperial Guard began their descent down the stairs, their pom-pom boots clacking on the tarmac as they took a parallel formation along the stairs. With precise movements the Imperial guard shouldered their disruptor rifles, and stood at attention as Prince moved towards the door of the transport, letting the sun hit his face as he stepped down from the transport itself, he glanced back at Marlene, who grasped a briefcase, from the seat and started after Prince, Marlene then turned to Jackie, and then gestured her to follow.

The sunlight hit the three as Marlene checked the briefcase, it's contents were a gift to be delivered to the Scatterran supremacy. Inside it was a highly encrypted data disc, and on Marlene's person, around her neck was a large red amulet, completely inert, but also to be offered to the Supremacy.

Once they reached the bottom of the Stairs, Prince nodded to the assembled troops and returned their salute by holding his hand up, and offering an Aschen Salute to the assembled troops, before he turned to the Foreign minister, and offered an extended hand, before he turned to Marlene, who took position at Prince's side.

"Fine weather we're having, I'm pleased that you found the hospitality to have me today, I come bearing gifts." He said, gesturing to Marlene.

"And to open up new trade avenues, as well as discuss the state of the Galaxy, I bring troubling news from the Empire."

____

The moment the foreign leader stepped into the sunlight, the black-clad ranks of Scatterran troops moved into eyes right, a silent, visual salute to Isambard Prince and his retinue. In due time Lord Lancaster offered his own salute to the Aschen Emperor, the Austran gesture now a common greeting throughout the Supremacy itself, though he politely accepted Prince's offered hand in a firm, friendly shake. "Welcome to Tannhäuser, your highness." With a knowing smile, Constantine nodded at Isambard's compliment. "We made sure of it." Stepping to the side the Azrican gestured down past the armed contingent gathered to the bay's personnel entrances.

"Most excellent, I am sure their majesties will be delighted to receive them. We've a motorcade for you and your retinue, if you don't mind the scenic route." They could, of course, rush Prince away to the Reichskanzlei, but they saw no need for such expediency, at least not at the moment. This was the capital after all, and things here were kept at the ideal that the Kampfs strove to impart on the whole empire - indeed, perhaps even the whole galaxy. "I trust that your trip thus far has been uneventful?" Were it that it wasn't, inquiries would be made.

In short order Lancaster lead Prince, Marlene and the rest along to the cars that awaited them: one for Prince and his 'wife', another for civilian personnel accompanying their leader, and two empty IFVs for the Aschen guard. Of course there were other escorts, other IFVs and Wespe jetbikes that flanked the whole procession, but by and large it was a light defensive contingent for such an official - defenses were largely a superficial element at best on Tannhäuser. Of course, that wasn't to say that they took their job lightly, and those assigned to protect this foreign dignitary embodied Imperial professionalism in their task.

Joining Prince in his car, Lancaster took a seat opposite from the man, his pleasure in the chance to take a seat evident to all. Lancaster was beginning to feel his age, and his feet weren't quite as young as they used to be. With a spare glance he watched as Isambard's retinue were directed into the second limousine, accompanied, as they were in this vehicle, by Landwächter officers. One barely felt it as the vehicle began to move, the column snaking their way through the city as they made their way to the grand promenade - the wide open route typically reserved for parades on the Day of the Fall or E-Day - the first of Tannhäuser's mighty victory arches coming into view.

"I hope your news isn't too distressing, emperor."

____

Jackie followed obediently, though she hung back just far enough that she wouldn't be caught in the inevitable photos. After all, even if this wasn't intended as a propaganda trip, the fact that Emperor Prince was on a xeno world was news. News that didn't need a secretary taking up valuable frame space, when there were so many more important images to be seen.

So as Prince and Marlene climbed into the lead vehicle, Jackie ended up with the rest of the civilians. As there just wasn't room in the lead aircar without crowding more important people, the secretary didn't feel it was her place to protest. Though being sandwiched between two Scatterans had her very aware of how small she was, hunched over her bag and trying very hard not to actually touch the xenos in the back seat of the second car.

Well, at least she would have a chance to listen to what the civilians had to say. It was uncommon that she got that opportunity even on Langara, but even rarer to be able to hear the honest feelings of an ally. All she had to do was let them forget she existed. So after brief smile of greeting, she folded her arms around her bag and kept her head down.

____

"For the most part." Prince replied, settling into the car fairly readily, with Marlene beside him. He had noticed that Jackie wasn't with them, but Marlene gave an assuring nod as she saw the secretary get into another air car.

"Your men do their nation proud, as I've said to His Majesty, my people would do well to learn from their example."

Prince turned to Marlene, before she removed the large amulet from around her neck. The device would have passed the security checks as completely inert, but Marlene opted to present it to the Foreign Minister.

"This is a component to the Thalaron device we promised to share with your government. It is inert, the second component dare not be manufactured." She said, sliding the briefcase. "There are schematics to construct your own device, as well as possible delivery systems. Your government may use this knowledge however they see fit."

Prince offered a slight nod. "Preferably to the swift destruction of your enemies; of our enemies."

Marlene nodded slightly, before she gave prince a subtle nod.

"Regarding news from the Empire, I have several sources within the fringe of Imperial Territories, as well as intelligence elements on a backwater world that have provided me with information concerning another Scatterran nation operating in these regions." Prince's words became firm. "We take no offense to the Syndicate and it's designs for this world and it's surrounding systems. But these people; who call themselves the Exogarden." Princes expression darkened more.

"I only see one solution to the Exogarden, as more and more reports come in of their operations near the Red Line, if they choose to cross this line of demarcation; I fear that we would have no choice but to respond with force. I hope that perhaps His Majesty could shed some light on this Exogarden, and provide my government with solid counsel on how to deal with this threat." Prince said, as he took in the grand sights of the city around him. Despite the stern words he spoke only a moment before, as the victory arches came into view, Prince appeared visibly impressed, as did Marlene.

"All of this in due time, for now I wish to partake in everything your nation has to offer on this day." Prince said, a smile forming on his lips. "The Empire can tolerate it's esteemed leader enjoying the culture of our Ideological brethren."

____

Lancaster, himself a member of the Landwächter, albeit its civil branch, allowed a small smile of pride to present itself on his face at Marlene's compliment. "I can think of no finer example to follow." The Kaiser's black legion was renowned, perhaps just as much as the Supremacy itself, for discipline and tradition - truly, more often than not, they were the face of the nation. But quickly enough the minister put his pride aside and took the inert device in hand as it was offered to him, examining this false necklace with a small degree of curiosity, allowing the thing to dangle from his hand for a moment. Weapons and their use were not his forte, though from what he understood of the cabinet meetings regarding the Aschen these devices were of great import at the front, especially on the frontier. "I will be delighted to pass these on to the SEO - she will know exactly who to assign to its development."

The device found itself placed on the console beside Constantine as he listened to Prince's concerns, nodding when appropriate and offering additional gestures when he felt necessary. "I am quite certain he can, I myself am roughly familiar with the Exogarden but I don't know if I'm a reliable source. I understand them from a geopolitical perspective, not a martial one." As was his duty, to understand and maintain the status quo between the Supremacy and the Coalition, and indeed between the Supremacy and any nation, not to plan, plot or understand, tactically speaking at least, the martial endeavors of his fatherland.

But on the note of culture Lancaster smiled once more, nodding towards the first arch as they passed in front of it, turning onto the promenade. "If there's anything we can do for you during your visit, your highness, let us know." The lord-emissary gestured out of the limousine's window towards the many statues that lined the promenade, "We're delighted to host you and your retinue for however long you wish. Tannhäuser has much to offer..."

---

Seated though the men and women were in the second vehicle, they never truly relaxed, just as observant as they were before - scanning the surroundings through the tinted windows, arms tensed should they need to reach for their sidearms. The NCO, an Austran woman of some thirty years, regarded Jackie with no small degree of curiosity, blinking her blue eyes once or twice as she took in the rather timid Aschen secretary. It wasn't simply the size of the woman that drew the Austran's eye, but simply the way that she held herself, and beyond that, simply the way that she felt. There was a certain air about miss Branson, one that the Austran was familiar with.

But she elected not to speak to her, figuring it both unprofessional and unnecessary - they would be at the Reichsplatz soon enough, and they would be standing by once again until the dignitaries needed to be carted about once more.

____

Jackie slowly relaxed in the silence, the tension in her arms unfurling as she glanced from one stoic face to the next. The lack of conversation was at first odd, and then soothing. Only when it became clear that no one felt the desire to talk did her gaze wander to the windows.

The arches and landmarks merely got a curious look from her as they passed. The purpose seemed plain, to mark heroic deeds, but they were stories told in a foreign tongue for the Aschen woman. Naturally she assumed they were essentially the same as the monuments on her homeworld: Self congratulations from the governing body, to the governing body, with only a passing mention of the common lives they had cost.

The silence she had adopted, as another safety measure, was hard to break. Like a clinging garment or a needy child, the tendency for quiet was hard for her to put off on her own, and, though not as bulky, was just as oppressively wound around her throat.

____

Prince nodded ever so slightly. "I'd like to understand them further on a Geopolitical standpoint, leaving my military to understand them on a Martial one, I'll need to be pointed in a direction as to where I can acquire intelligence on them before I depart, if your government would be willing to share that Intelligence." Prince said, peering outside the window and then turning to Marlene.

"Certainly a wonderful world these people have built." He said, as Marlene checked her dataslate, and then turned to Prince. "You have about one Secton." Prince nodded, before bringing his attention to Constantine. "I have seven days before I have to return to the Empire, the Imperial Viceroy is a capable woman, but what is an Empire without it's Emperor." Prince said.

"What of the food here? I had a long flight and frankly, I'm quite famished." Prince said, as Marlene offered a slight nod. "I hope your secretary is okay back there." Marlene said, frowning. She considered the timid Aschen woman a hindrance, but Prince insisted she be brought along with them.

Finally prince spoke up once more, asking about Kampf

"I need to address formalities first, I have several things I would like to bring before the government concerning our alliance. Concerning matters of trade, and matters of state, and then we can party."

Marlene offered a frown for a moment, and then scoffed disappointed.

"I was hoping to get completely wasted while ogling those good looking Austran men in black." She said. "Gods, why couldn't we adopt black uniforms?" She asked, and Prince chuckled. "Oh you're a fiesty one." He said, smiling. "I'm eager to sample your fine brews, though."

____

The Azrican officer simply smiled, electing to ignore Marlene's remarks concerning his comrades, nodding in response to Prince's concerns. "Certainly, your highness - I will have my office compile its files on the Exogarden and have them to you by noon tomorrow." They would largely be based on what intelligence the Supremacy could gather from within the body of the Coalition itself, as their firsthand experiences with the Exogarden largely ended in open conflict. "There will be light refreshments at the conference, though I'm certain the meeting won't take too long if you'd like something with a bit more substance."

What little time remained on the trip was characterized by brief explanations on Lancaster's part as to the nature of the Exogarden, summaries of what the Supremacy knew in regards to the Coalition's premier penal legion, though these talks were cut short by the motorcade's arrival at the Reichsplatz. Here the scene echoed Saint Hochheim, though taken to something of an extreme as instead of three detachments of Landwächter here stood well over two regiments at attention. If their being on the plaza itself wasn't enough, the standards they held denoted just who greeted the Aschen Emperor and his retinue, the name etched into the gilded plate above the hoisted flags - the first Landwächter division Josef Kampf. It was, only outside of the Seraphim themselves, the most prestigious military formation within the Supremacy, kept solely in reserve for the protection of the Imperial House, its persons and property.

Silence gripped the plaza, cut only by the rippling of flags in the breeze and the distant hum of the capital's traffic, still in the wake of the convoy's arrival, their repulsor engines whining into silence as they set down. Only when Lancaster opened the door of the lead car did the assembled band begin to play a march in greeting for the foreigners, the troops remaining stiff at attention out of respect for the foreign dignitaries - a bold and definite display of security, just as the Morningstar had been in orbit, that could just as easily be seen as a backhanded threat. Still and resolute, the detachments watched as the Emperor, his 'wife' and the rest of the Aschen retinue passed them by alongside the foreign minister, moving up the short flight of steps to the looming doors of the imperial chancellery. Within those titanic doors they would be greeted with an atrium bustling with activity from Landwächt and civilian alike, even on this most prestigious occasion, as the workings of the great Supremacy never cease.

Its smooth, polished floor shimmered with light, the walls decorated with the occasional painting or insignia - just as often inlaid into marble as set upon it - the latter typically denoting a different office or conference room. With a smile Constantine looked over his shoulder, beckoning for Prince to follow, "This way, your highness. I believe the cabinet is already assembled." Ever the collected professional, Lancaster didn't even give the small commotion that arose on their flank a second thought as they filed into one of the hallways, as a secretary hastily rounded a corner straight into a Landwächter officer, her arms full of stacked folders that soon found themselves scattered about on the floor. The man himself fell backwards, his landing on his saber producing most of the racket, though he was quick to rise and help collect the errant folders, his apology to the young woman lost in the bustle of the Reichskanzlei as the foreign delegation continued on to their destination.

____

Jackie again followed as she was meant to, keeping her head down as she thought of it. The less impact she made on anyone's awareness, the safer she felt. The mass of Landwächter officers did make her step stutter briefly though. In her mind, she equated them to the Confessors back on Langara, and the thought of passing before thousands of them looking for any flaw or lack of zeal-- The Aschen woman had to close her eyes for a few breaths to put the memories back out of her thoughts.

Thankfully, the path was straight and it was easy to keep track of Emperor Prince and Marlene Angel by their voices and the pools of silence that usually followed. The steps, being made for Scatterans, demanded her attention though, and Jackie had to almost jog to keep up with their taller escorts.

So she was nearly beside the collision between the civilian and the officer, and felt a jolt of horror at what she fully expected to happen next. Jackie averted her eyes, not wanting to see the inevitable 'discipline' that would be meted out. But it did not happen. The secretary didn't even seem afraid. The officer claimed the blame. It made the skittish young woman stop and stare, unaware that her feet had ceased as she gazed hungrily at the... What was it? She had to think hard for the word, and finally it came to her.

"Civility." she murmured the word, savoring it, before she scampered to catch up to those so much more 'exalted' than herself.

 

[Tiko]

as written by Ottoman and Krysis

As far as any casual observer might be able to tell, today was like any other day in the capital in the shadow of the Gotteshalle - dozens still moved to their various posts across the breadth of the Reichsplatz, and the guards rotated shifts as they always did. But were it that one knew the Reichsplatz and its contents well they'd see definite, if subtle, differences: today no tour groups moved into or our of the Adlerhorst, the guards posted flanking the doors of the palace were doubled, and below the national ensigns that flew on the poles was a different banner, a black flag bearing golden insignia. It was the ensign of the Imperial Marines, a sister flag to that of the fleet which traded the fleet's star for a shield, a sight typically reserved for the fleet's headquarters, the building that immediately flanked the chancellery. Regardless of these differences, minute or otherwise, the guards posted made no move to stop anyone were it that their business was pressing, or their presence was a non-issue.

The Kampfs themselves were to be found in Josef's study, both in the darksome uniforms of their own personal military, speaking with three other black-clad officers, though these three were rather different. Their jackets lacked the open-collar of the Landwächter, the scalloped pockets found on the Kampfs were absent on the others' entire uniforms, exchanged for plain edges, and where the Kampf's army wore breeches these three wore straight-legged trousers - simply put, their dress was no where near as flattering as that of the Landwächter or even the fleet, without excessive tailoring or complexity. But even then they were not without ornamentation - all three were decorated veterans of the front, as evidenced by the orders and badges on their breast, their ribbon bars proving an explosion of color on an otherwise matte portrait. The trio, two men and a woman, stood uncomfortably at ease with the imperial family, peaked caps tucked underarm as they struggled not to stand in parade rest, chatting idly with the man and woman who ruled so many worlds and governed so many lives.

It was still rare that Isabelle took a day off. Completely off. No taking things home to read, no scrambling around to finish errands that had stacked up over the week. After sitting in her kitchen for half an hour and trying to be interested in some fluffy bit of classic literature, it was clear that having a day off was not something she was good at. Thankfully, her 'cousins' had given her carte blanche to visit them at any time. An invitation that she had not yet taken up, since she almost always had a reason behind her visits anywhere.

So, in an ectasy of purely casual excitement, she dug out a pair of old blue jeans from her college days and a strappy red chemise shirt. It was an outfit that was made for picnics or taking a ride in the country. A glance at her mostly bare shoulders made her pause though, and a white blouse went on over it, the tails of the nicer shirt hanging almost to her knees, and held in place with a simple belt. This did not hide the frayed spots on the knees of the jeans, nor the worn-out old combat boots that had seen at least three sets of laces and had almost had a hole rubbed in the right toe.

Her presence was normal to the guards, they let her pass without comment, though a helpful maid did tell Izzy that the Kampfs were in the study, and Josefine was not to be found in the gardens for once. The maid neglected to mention that the Kampfs were not alone, so after a prefunctionary knock, the Lady Stier just opened the door and stuck her head inside. "Hello cous-- Oh! Sorry!"

Those gathered inside turned their eyes at the knock, the conversation halted by the singular note, gaze drawn to the door as Isabelle peered into the room as she did. The marines took this in stride, waiting quietly - perhaps even relieved, at some level, to have someone else speak to the Emperor and Empress in their stead, if only for a moment - as Josefine moved almost immediately upon hearing her cousin's voice, her long strides taking her to the door in short time. "Isabelle," She spoke, her tone pleasant if far more professional than Izzy might have been used to hearing, a definite edge to her words present now, "Please, come in, I didn't know you would be dropping by." The moment she was by the door she pulled it open to invite the younger woman inside, though the sight of the other's dress did give the empress visible pause, her smile faltering for but a brief moment as her eyes ran over the other's form.

Fortunately enough she was facing away from the three officers as that brief, disconcerting look came over her face before she realized what the other must have meant by dressing so commonly. Josefine gestured into the room as she held the door - something that one of the guards that flanked it should have done but, alas - her smile returned as she looked back to the three marines and introduced the newcomer. "My cousin, the lady Isabelle Stier. I had forgotten to mention our meeting today. My apologies." There was but a brief moment of silence thereafter, a mere second hanging in the air before the lead marine stepped forward, his heels clicking together as he came to attention - the others following suit - speaking with his head bowed.

"You honor us with your presence, your ladyship."

In but a moment his head bobbed back up, his harsh visage dominated by the scars that ran along the left side of his face, an unflinching face that was largely devoid of emotion. His eyes were quick to dart from Isabelle back to the empress however, for soon enough she spoke once more, explaining the situation to Isabelle. "These three are officers from the 12th Penal Legion, if I might introduce captain Hastings and his lieutenants, Letzel and Schwann." It was evident that the three would not relax until told to do so, so Josef, who had stood quietly to the side throughout this whole episode, murmured the order to them on the other side of the room, taking a moment to idly rub his hands together, waiting.

"Well, it isn't like I gave anyone a chance to tell, so the joke is on me." Isabelle gave a good-natured smile, crinkling up her eyes with amusement at her predicament. She had a moment of panic when she realized just how formal an occasion it was, but then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. A noblewoman was a noblewoman, no matter what she wore, as long as she kept her dignity.

"Captain, Lieutenants, it is a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for interrupting, I was just going to say 'hello' to family and ask permission to go weed a garden, but now I see there are far more important things to be done." The Stier girl offered her hand first to the Captain, giving him an encouraging smile if he was hesitant to grasp her fingers. After all, if Josef wanted them to relax, she should do her part to help them.

"Apparently, my dear friends among the staff here thought it would be amusing to let me dive in, head first. Military folk always have the oddest senses of humor." Izzy explained merrily, quite willing to try to make these serious three smile if she could.

The stern trio remained as they were, though Hastings, like the others, gladly took Lady Stier's offered hand, shaking it as was proper with a lady of her station, almost returning it to the small of his back before he recalled that the Emperor had ordered them to stand at ease. "Better odd than crass, my lady." Hastings mused, thinking little of the staff for putting her in this position, but still remaining professional. As Isabelle shook hands with all three Josefine moved back to Josef's flank, where she had stood before, speaking with the three officers.

"We were reviewing the plans for the award ceremony. The captain has proven that he is cut from a bolt unlike most - the twenty-eigth, right?" She interrupted herself as she inquired to Josef concerning what day the ceremony was to be on, the man's nod confirming her thought. "He is to be promoted to colonel, and, for his actions on Wallach VI, awarded the Knight's Triad." A remarkable distinction for a man who had worked his way up from the enlisted ranks, but especially for one who was serving his sentence in the legions, though neither Kampf mentioned that aspect of his character.

"We were just musing about naming one of the divisions in the newest legion in his honor," Josef added, "Before you came in."

"A Hastings Division. I like it. I imagine that they will be teased about how fast they are, but that is no great hardship." Rather than joining the Kampfs, in their rather intimidating line, Isabelle lingered near the officers from the penal legion. "Interviews with living heroes always do well in the media too. If the Empress thinks it is a good idea--" Izzy paused then, giving Josefine a brightly hopeful smile.

Letzel allowed herself a smirk at the young woman's jest, knowing that Hastings couldn't see her smile behind him, though it soon evaporated, replaced once more by the cold visage the three wore when either of the imperial family spoke. "I think it's a wonderful idea, I was planning on broadcasting the ceremony of course but, an editorial to go alongside it, or to precede it, might do things more justice. If you don't mind, captain." She glanced to the leader of the trio as she finished, an inquisitive look paid to him as he pondered the thought.

"I've no qualms with it, your majesty."

"Excellent. Isabelle, would you like to see to it?" Secretary though she was, as she recalled journalism was something of a calling to her cousin, and it might be a welcome reprieve from fetching files.

"I'd be delighted." At first Isabelle thought she meant to just arrange the interview, but when no one was requested to offer the questions, the Stier girl gave Josefine a curious glance, and then a truly delighted smile at the realization at just what the empress meant.

"Of course I'd like to work with you, Captain Hastings, to decide on what you are comfortable telling the citizens. Yours is a wonderful story, climbing up the ranks like this, but if you'd rather not mention what went before, I think we can work around it." The brunette turned her attention back to the three quickly, trying to make sure they didn't feel neglected. Since Izzy had always been a civilian, she didn't have the same problem with deciding what to do with her hands that the Captain and Lieutenants did. She was gesturing naturally, and reached out to lay her fingers in a reassuring manner on the Captain's shoulder, as if she hadn't even noticed his scars.

"Isabelle works for me at the Ministry you see, captain - I hope you don't mind."

Hastings glanced between the Kampfs and the Stier, blinking as he did, truthfully not minding the development though he didn't expect her to place her hand on his shoulder - not quite certain how to react to such a gesture. Certainly the marines were a physical sort, both in affection and in conflict, but to have a noblewoman place her hand on his shoulder, regardless of whether he was going to be a knight soon enough - it confused him. So he simply nodded, "Not at all, your majesty, and if we're going to tell the story, we should tell the whole story." The man saw no point in cherry-picking the details, whether they were his own or the battle's.

Skewing the facts did no one any favors.

"What a convenient development," The Empress murmured, rather pleased things turned out the way they did, even if Isabelle was dressed for gardening instead of a proper meeting. "Isabelle, if you'd like I can change and we can see to the garden. Josef can likely handle things from here - if that's alright?" She glanced to her brother, who gave a simple nod in response.

"Tend to the garden, it will give you time to plan."