Hi all, I am back.

One detail I have some notes at the bottom, do read those before commenting on a certain date.

November 22nd 3043
Antallos System
FSS Camberwell Beauty

Morgan Hasek-Davion wasn't nervous, or anxious, he was just pacing, honest.
In his defense it had been a long trip, even with the backing of his uncle and of the Federated Commonwealth, a command circuit hadn't been in the cards and while they had pulled strings and significantly shortened the journey to little over fifty days, that amount of time in a dropship was quite the experience, regardless the details.

The Camberwell wasn't an ordinary Monarch class DropShip, it was part of the Steiner Family's own fleet and had been outfitted as such. This is what had made this trip far more comfortable than any other long endurance trips he had the 'pleasure' of taking part of, though had been quite testing regardless.
On the other hand, his previous experiences had been in military DropShips, and nobody could compare those to a Monarch, let alone one as kitted out as the Camberwell was.

Morgan sighed, he was tired, he was anxious and he wanted to get out of ergonomic and gilded tub. Yes, they were in the final leg of their journey and being at standard acceleration, he was able to pace, which beat out being at a Jump Point during recharge. Freefall was only nice in small doses, after all.

He nodded to himself and paused as he turned towards the observation deck's screens.
Out there, the bright blue torch of their escort's thrusters could be seen with the naked eye, however its dagger like hull was only visible on the monitors.

He felt like frowning, 'Who would have thought that a middle of nowhere shithole like Antallos changing hands would become so important?' a part of his mind muttered.

'Because their new owners have WarShips, that is why,' he chided at himself as he begun tapping his feet.

It was then when he felt a slender pair of arms surround him in a hug.

"Husband mine," the voice of his wife softly said, "You're fretting," she whispered into his ear.

He sagged at her touch and nodded, "I apologize, dear," he said as he felt her forehead lean against his nape, "I am finding it hard not to, as of late," he said after a moment, "It is..." he trailed off not sure how to articulate his anxiousness.

"I understand, dear," she said as she loosened her grip on him and turned Morgan around, she was his anchor, and she knew that, "but I do fear Captain Maynard would be upset if you wear down this beautiful carpet," her expression shifted to that faux haut she could do so well as she spoke.

The deck was furnished with a nice thick Star League era carpet, made of non inflammable fabrics which was basically a requirement for a DropShip, military or otherwise, and unlike the more contemporary carpets, this one was downright smooth and thick and yet provided sufficient grip.
He chuckled at his other half's expression, and shook his head. Not that the carpet was in any risk of his pacing, the Star League material in question more or less ensured it would survive them all non the worse for wear.

She gave him an impish smile as her facade fell apart and winked, "Now, why don't you tell me what worries you, husband dear, and I'll do my duty as wife and allay your concerns."

He nodded at her and took a deep breath, "I worry, Kym," he motioned with his head towards the screens, "There's just too much on stake here and this isn't the sort of battlefield I am good at, and with so much riding here?" he trailed off.

She nodded in reply, "I understand, and I will even say I have wondered if Hanse was stealing a march on everybody else or if he was outsmarting himself," she paused for a moment as her hands entwined on his, "but I will tell you this, I think he is right in this one, Antallos was deliberate, them putting a flag where it can be seen, their way of opening discourse, as it were."

"Yes, but..." Kym put her index finger atop her husbands' lip

She smiled at him, "I understand this is a bit out of your comfort zone, but we do have advisers here, career diplomats even, and our protocol people have been talking nonstop with theirs, ironing the details," she paused for a second as her smile turned impish, "We are here to look pretty and get the ball rolling, Hanse doesn't expect you to get them as subjects right off the bat or anything as dramatic," she raised an eyebrow, "at least not yet."

He laughed in reply and nodded, "And that is why I married you, my beloved, your words are like a balm to my nerves."

Her smile widened and then she brought her head up to his level for a long kiss, after that no more words were needed, they had other ways of relaxing themselves and, besides, she was also in dire need of relaxation. Plus there had been this question about the carpet that had been niggling her for the whole trip and since they were alone and she had locked the door… it was time to find out.

November 22nd 3043
Antallos System
Port Krin

Augustus Long was a relatively new arrival to Antallos. He was the new Precentor Antallos and what had once been a relatively unimportant posting had changed drastically in a very short amount of time. And now, here he was, the First Circuit's representative to a heathen nation who, through no fault of their own, had never been exposed to the Teachings of Blake.

He leaned back into his chair. Precentor Cuthbert FitzJames hadn't been one to skimp on comfort, and the black leather reclining chair was perhaps the most noteworthy, well, the second most, since FitzJames had chosen to remain at Antallos to serve as his adviser.

Augustus glanced sideways to where FitzJames was now sitting, his desk was smaller, simpler and even shorter than his own, as a way of paying deference towards Augustus, not that he actually needed to. He wasn't that shallow, though he still chafed at the idea of the old Precentor staying as his adviser, It added to the already unusual arrangement.
Normally an incumbent Precentor would stay only a short while to ease in their replacement and then move on to their next destination, whatever that might be, but, again Precentor FitzJames was old, he was pushing ninety odd years, and he had been in Antallos for the last decade and change…

And regardless all that, the old man still had a degree of influence with the Blessed order, so when the First Circuit itself strongly suggested for him to retain FitzJames in whatever capacity that could be spared, he had immediately agreed.
That had been three weeks ago.

That was why he had kept him as an adviser, obviously a man with such connections couldn't have been used in any other role, plus, he was rather curious how deep his reach was and until the office annex was reopened and the reshuffling could be done, he would shared his office with FitzJames,
The act of 'charity' would look good to the Circuit and it also gave him a chance to keep the old man close enough.

"So, still evaluating your circumstances, Precentor?" FitzJames said looking up from his desk, his expression was one of curiosity.

"I am, yes," he replied with a bit more tension in his voice than he'd meant, "This could make my career," he replied, "nevermind that! This is a new chapter of the order..."

"Yes, certainly!" the older man replied with some mirth in his voice, "Well, as long as you aren't being used as canary, but it isn't like the First Circuit would do that!" the mirth was there, so was a degree of sarcasm that bordered on heresy, but never quite passing the mark, at least in Long's opinion.

Augustus shrugged, "It is what it is," he replied trying to sound sardonically and yet noncommittal.

"I'll give you points for that reply," the older man replied with a smile, "It is diplomatic and Precentor-y enough," he paused for a moment fiddling with what seemed like a noteputer, "Have you given any though to your upcoming meeting with the Governor?"

"Somewhat, protocol is a bit iffy, but…."

"Ah, yes, nothing in our manuals for that, nor theirs," Cuthbert nodded sagely, "Still, I think you might be stalling somewhat."

"I… might be," he conceded with a nod, "Truth be told I'm trying to understand them a bit before hand and that's been a bit of an uphill battle."

"I imagined you might say that," the former Precentor said standing up from his desk and moving towards Augustus' "Not a very Precentor thing to admit," he said with a wink, "Regardless, that is why why I acquired this," he placed the noteputer onto his desk.

It was rather unlike any he had seen, a smooth onyx square, with no evident keyboard or screen with its sides polished to an angle.

"What is this?" he finally asked as he poked at the tablet.

"Consumer electronics, part noteputer part civ-com and with a rather amazing holographic inter-phase," he said turning it on, as he did, several screens seemed to materialize over the onyx tablet, "Seems this is standard UN fare."

Augustus carefully poked at the screen, obviously there was no real sensation, but he noticed he could affect the screen, that now showed the weather forecast for the day.

"I am going to assume you cleared this with ROM?" Augustus said raising an eyebrow and in a monotone he was rather proud of.

The older man smiled broadly, "They bought quite a few of these as tech samples to send back to Terra, I just asked that nice adept if he could spare a couple," he scratched his chin, "Few people tend to deny my request when I use my grandfatherly act."

Augustus snorted in reply, "This is rather good, and you're right, the holography is nothing short of impressive..."

"Yeah, well, it is to expect from people that seem to have an obsession for holograms," Cutthbert replied crossing his arms, "Have you seen the number of them that have been popping up in main-street?" his smile turned almost conspiratorially, "or the Entertainment center they opened up in Nutcraker's Square?"

That made Augustus raise an eyebrow. Open air holography had been rare in the Star League era and from the records it had been expensive and very limited, a rare core worlds thing, even. To see such a casual use of the technology was rather awe inspiring, though he'd had to follow up on the gaming center, but...

"It could be a Potemkin village," Augustus replied as he kept fiddling with the holoscreens.

Cuthbert nodded, "True, it could, but in any case it should give us some insight into them, one way or the other," replied the older man as he played with his short beard, "After all a Potemkin is build for the short term usage, not that I don't think they won't be trying to wow us, but it makes me doubt they'd go for such an old ploy."

"I, that is a good point, however..." suddenly Augustus went very quiet and rather pale.

"Precentor Long?" the older man tapped Augustus in the shoulder, "Augustus?"

Slowly, Augustus Long raised his head and glanced at the older Precentor, "I... Look at this," he said in a slow and deliberate manner as he offered him the civ-com unit

Cuthbert blinked and carefully took a glance at the holographic screen, he could see a showing of a local electronic paper, one of the new ones set up by the UN and his eyes widened as he read the headline, "...FedCom Delegation?" he finally exclaimed.

Augustus only nodded in reply.

November 23th 3043
Antallos System
Port Krin

Ahmed Gotlieb was feeling the full weight of his responsibilities. He knew going in that the Governorship of Antallos wasn't going to be an easy job, even compared to his tenure at UNPIO, but between Gloria's sales pitch and the relative calm that had become the norm in his former position…
And Gloria was an excellent saleswoman.

"So now he wants his meeting with us?" asked Ahmed to his aide.

Fujiko Stuart had followed Ahmed from the UNPIO, and she was Ahmed's protegee, much as he was one of Gloria's.
She nodded at his reply and lightly bit her lip from her place on the other side of his desk.

His office was still a bit on the spartan side, not plain, but the furniture he favored tended towards the functional, which would put most of them in the local's definition of plain but he just wasn't going to use something like the former Controller's monstrosity, as he had taken to calling the massive wooden desk with all the bass reliefs, carvings and gold leaf you could expect from the decadent tyrant as well as the inconspicuous armor and discrete weapons compartments that bordered on clinical paranoia.
Of course, he understood that his opinion was different than the rest of the Sphere and while most of the denizens of the sphere would look down on the Controller's monstrosity, if for other reasons, they would also look at his favored style and find it wanting.
After all, looks were also important for politics, specially for diplomacy, not that he'd entertain in his day office, thankfully he had a different office for those meetings.

"Perhaps he can't wait anymore?" she finally replied.

Ahmed nodded, "I guess we should have expected that," he chuckled, "seems we weren't the only ones blindsided by the arrival of the FedCom delegation."

Fujiko's expression darkened a bit and nodded, "ComStar had been a bit too complacent beforehand, yes."

There was a knock on the door. He glanced towards Fujiko who shrugged.

"Come in," he said as he pressed the buzzer on his desk.

Seamus Becket entered the office at a brisk pace. Becket was the head of the Intelligence Directorate in Antallos. An older man, slightly pudgy and balding, who had been, as far as Ahmed could tell, one of the few real spooks in the fleet, even if he had been just a retiree.

"I do apologize for the interruption, Governor, Ms Stuart," he said as he entered the room

"Don't worry about it, we were just talking about our cowled friends." relied the governor standing up, "still, do take a seat, Seamus," he added motioning towards the free chair before his desk

He smiled in reply,"Thank you, at one point of my life I'd refused, but now, at my age? Well it's given me a new appreciation for comfort," he added in a jovial tone as he sat down.

"I take it you have a reason for the visit?" Ahmed said with a frown on his face.

"Nothing terrible, hopefully," replied the older man with a thin smile on his face, "But things seem to be kicking into high gear on my side of things," his smile twisted itself into a slim frown.

"Spy business, then," the governor stated.

"Indeed, a FedCom cell seems to have gone visibly active which is causing the rest of the," he paused, tapping a finger against his chin, "call it the local birdwatcher club, to go into overdrive."

The various powers had had eyes in Port Krin for a long, long time. It had been a den of iniquity and a market for flesh and assets, disposable or otherwise, for a long time, while Seamus had noted, time and again, that the quality of those eyes could be questionable, he had never fully dismissed them.

"You think that something…" Ahmed frowned and his expression seemed to turn bitter as he looked for the right word, "overt might happen?"

"It's hard to say at this stage," he paused for a second, "It's related to the FedCom's latest surprise, this cell is probably just forward security for the diplos, but the locals seem to have strong reactions when the FedCom does something unexpected."

"So, what do you recommend we do, then?" asked the Governor.

"Abe and his groundpounders should stay at a higher readiness level and increase the number of security details," he said using his preferred nickname for the local garrison, then his smile turned impish, "Also you should expect Garal to be extra, well, extra-Garalish for the next few days."

Ahmed expression seemed to falter, "You told her?"

"That your life might be in danger?" Seamus said with some mirth in his voice, "What do you think?"

"I think you are enjoying this way too much," Ahmed replied in a deadpan tone.

"Far from it, my friend," he said with an earnest expression on his face, "As overzealous as that wife of yours can be, we should all be more careful during the next few weeks," he paused for a moment, "plus it isn't like she gave me a chance, you know?"

December 2nd 3043
Antallos System
Port Krin

Hoffman House had a long and storied existence, it had originally been built as the Lyran Embassy on Antallos, a role it served untill the manor was abandoned, a few years before the start of the First succession war. It had been sold to a local magnate, then, one Armaud Haas and had remained in his family since.
As the Succession wars progressed and the planet became a sort of greased pig between the Federated Suns and the Draconis Combine, Hoffman House was renovated time and again, seeking to replace damaged or worn Star League era items with those of lesser tech, but it had managed to keep its style and majesty even as Port Krin degenerated into a Pirate Haven.

Serendipity was probably the word of the day as the Haas family had objected to the UN occupation most extensively while not directly linked to any outright illegal activity. They had sold their properties and left for the Oberon Confederation, leaving Hoffman House vacant for the first time in centuries.
Of course, the Haas' had performed one final act of pettiness before departing, smashing decorations, vandalizing walls and destroying furniture. Interestingly, they failed at destroying windows, as those were still Star League Standards and nothing short of SRM fire would have breached them.
Aphid Haas discovered, rather tragically, it would ricochet bullets like there was no tomorrow and ricochets were nobody's friend.

Following a short lull, however, the House was, once again, a hive of activity if in a very different way.

Morgan Hasek's trained eye could admire the celerity of the advance team, they only had a couple of days to select an Embassy and turn it, at least partially for habitation, and that was after a sustained acceleration, which was a pain and a half.
The Job they had done for the North Wing of Hoffman House looked downright amazing in that light.

"Miracle workers," he half muttered.

"Sire?" Asked Alain Beaucamp as he looked up from his noteputer.

Alain was a short and unassuming looking man, clean shaved and well groomed, he was also one of his Mother's people.

He smiled inwardly, or maybe he was one of his Uncle's or both. His mother had always taken a distance from court life and even now she was more or less retired and concentrated on being a grandmother to Morgan's children.

"I was admiring the work the advance team has done, Alain," he said smiling at his aide.

"They have done a very acceptable Job, sire," he replied with a slight francophone accent in his voice, "Very acceptable." he repeated with a small nod and a wisp of a smile, "On the other hand, Star League era buildings do have some inherent advantages for restoration."

It was Morgan's turn to nod back, "Agreed, though I will say this place has a rather distinct look," he said pointing at the reliefs on the walls and the decorations of the columns. The style was rather unique, interposed Lyres and Steiner fists either interspersed in the former and interposed in the later.

"Indeed, sire, it is quite the distinctive style," he replied in his matter-of-factly tone, "I do not recall its proper name, to be honest, but it is somewhat Romanesque, a throw back to the early Commonwealth styles that were the rage during the late Star League, do note the lyres, sire," he said pointing at the reliefs "Then again, from what I recall, the style was on the decline by the time Hoffman House was built, might actually be the last of this style built, even."

Morgan hummed noncommittally, while he could appreciate architecture and design as much as any other man, his training in those areas was limited, though he did make a small mental note to follow up on the history of the place and its style.
The room they were in had functioned as a small common dining room for the wing's bedrooms, as opposed to the main dining room of the East Wing, but for the time the North wing would function as the core of the Embassy, at least till the rest of the house could be cleaned up.
That was something that would take time, and it wasn't just fixing the damage their last tenants had done when they left, there was also a century and change of neglect. Plus they only had so many MI7 specialist and gear to do the sweeps and they were concentrating on the East Wing at the time.

These were the men and women with electronic detection gear, most of them wearing heavy backpacks and carried strange pieces of kit, that were combing over the hall at the moment making sure their hosts, or any other potential competitor, hadn't left any bugs behind or any other 'party flavor'.

"They are making sure the rooms are clean," Alain's expression turned into a small frown, "For as much a measure of clean we can realistically provide, anyway."

Morgan blinked, it had been part of the briefing, but… "Ah, that," he replied in a curt tone. MI7 had been very wary about the effectiveness of their current generation of sweepers, due to how little they knew the capabilities of the UN, or their tech. There had been hopes their people in Antallos could make some inroads, but so far that was still very much a work in progress.

"Do not worry, sire," Alain interrupted his train of thought, "I am confident on our people's skill and while the UN capabilities are unknown at the time, there are only so many ways you can seed a house," he paused for a moment and his mouth seemed to twist into a very minute smile, "Besides, worrying about this issue is part of my parcel, not yours, Sire."

Morgan shrugged, "That it is, though if you need a sounding board..." he trailed of with a small smile of his own

Alain nodded in reply, "It would be much appreciated."

"How long do you think it will take to restore the building?" he asked looking at a work crew rolling up a carpet in their temporary main hall.

"Hard to say, sire," Alain said with a frown, "We should be able to reach 'functional' within the week, but getting this place up to the proper standard? That is harder to estimate, as it would depend on the artisans, sire, and that will probably mean off world commissions, plus quality takes time..." he finished trailing off.

Morgan nodded, you really couldn't hurry quality or find it willy-nilly. Some of the things would be relatively easy to replace, like the bronze light fixtures and faux candelabras, they were a common enough thing in the inner sphere that there should be either a local supplier or one 'close enough', though getting them in the proper style could be a bit of a challenge, but other things like the furniture? Well, they could do with functional for a short while, but an embassy needed more than 'functional' it needed to impress, to represent its nation's greatness.

"Has my wife settled in our rooms, yet?" Morgan asked with his hands behind his back. He knew better than to be an obstacle to Kym's organization skills. He could learn from his mistakes, sometimes.

"She was finishing up when I was last there," Alain replied with a nod, "But she wanted to remind you that there was a need to go over the protocol for the coming state dinner, sooner rather than later."

Morgan nodded in reply, "We don't really have much time for practice, do we?" he asked with some trepidation.

"Indeed we do not, sire," his aide replied with a small nod of his own.

The state dinner was to be their official welcome to Antallos. While there had been a red carpet welcome at the Starport, it had been the barest of formalities. Yes, there had been a band and they had shook hands with the Governor but Port Krin was hot and humid and nobody waned to spend more time in the tarmac than what one needed to. So after a short protocol mandated ceremony they all retreated to the nearby building and then off to their motorcade
There hadn't been much room for proper introductions or to talk, even, but it had been by design, mostly to give more time to the protocol specialists on both sides who had wanted to reach a better understanding of one another.

That was fine by him, protocol was a fact of life in court, gaffes and errors could be even more destructive than a failed campaign, plus it did gave them time to acclimatize to Antallos, something that most of the Inner Sphere allowed for.

"Then it might be better to heed my better half's requests," he said in a friendly tone.

Their current rooms were far from being in the styles or pomp of the master bedroom, or even most rooms in the East Wing, but those were still up for renovation as the Haas had been specially petty there, but the North wing was still far more than suitable for their station, or their needs.
It still amazed Morgan how much effort the Lyran Commonwealth had invested into Hoffman House, given that Antallos had been officially settled around the eve of the New Vandenberg uprisings. Then again, the settlement of Antallos had begun years prior and its 2764 founding date was the time it was incorporated as a colony than the start date and while the incorporation date was known, the other wasn't.

His wife was lazying in one of the sofas that had been brought by the advance team and was of UN make, given they seemed to favor relatively plain looking designs and smooth forms which was rather distinctive when compared to the current styles in the FedCom. She had a noteputer in her hand and her lady in waiting, Elsa Roche, was sitting in a one of the armchairs to the left of the sofa with a tablet of some sort in hand as if taking notes for Kym.
Elsa spotted him first and approached his wife, who looked up from her noteputer and smiled at him.

"Dear! You're just in time," she exclaimed as she sat in a more ladylike manner, "Elsa and I were just wrapping up the organizational details," she added mentioning towards her lady in waiting.

"That is great to hear, Dear," he said with a wide smile, "anything of note there?"

"Well, actually," she turned towards his aide, "Alain, we will need some of your specialists to interview and vet a few locals."

"Certainly, milady," Alain replied with a curt bow.

"How many locals do we plan on hiring?" Morgan asked with a small frown on his face.

"It would depend on how many can pass muster," his wife replied as she shared a glance with Elsa, "But no more than a handful, at least at first," she paused for a moment and placed a delicate finger on her chin, "We do need groundskeepers and a few gofers that know the city to both run errands and aid the cooks."

Which was about standard for most noble households, even if most of the core staff had come from the FedCom, there were always some jobs that needed people familiar with the planet and the city in question.

Morgan nodded, "That we do," he hummed noncommittally and nodded, "Bernard will need a local guide at the very least."

Kym nodded eagerly, "Well, Bernard can be rather picky about his raw materials," she said with a smile on her face, "and he isn't as young as he used to."

"I agree, he will need a local guide, somebody with patience, and probably a bodyguard or two?" Morgan sad glancing towards Alain.

His aide nodded in reply which elicited a smile from Kym.

"With that said," Kym interrupted, "We should start going over the details of the dinner."

Morgan nodded, "Let's."

December 4th 3043
Antallos System
Port Krin

Morgan glanced at his reflection in the mirror, he was in his full military dress uniform as Field Marshal of the Capelan March. A part of him would have preferred to use his old 1st Kathil's since it was closer to the old AFFS standard but as the Duke of the Capelan March it wasn't an option.
He glanced at his white Hussar style jacket with its excessive amounts of gold braid, epaulets with his rank, the red sash, the blue pants with the red trim and his impeccably shined boots and spurs, he'd admit it wasn't a bad design.

"Better than most," he muttered as he glanced at his medals, well the ones he had chosen to wear with the uniform tonight. They were medals that had he felt been earned and not issued to him due to his station or Protocol, plus Kym thought it would look better to only have 'a few' medals. While some of the commendations common in the FedCom could be sizable, he really didn't care much for the full sized Mckennsy Hammer Katrina had awarded him in the aftermath of the Fourth Succession war, they generally had an associated medal or pin, in the case of the hammer it was a smallish stylized pin and it was one he was happy to wear tonight.
Besides, it took a special kind of social general would even consider taking that monstrosity unless they really had to.

Kym had been instrumental with the selection and its arrangement, after all looking at the pictures and holos of dress uniforms the UN seemed to favor…
He sighed and took another glance at his cape. Shaking his head, he finally decided to remove it. The cape just wasn't going to be of much use at the dinner and would probably be rather awkward, or more likely it would likely end up in the wardrobe for the duration.

Plus, Port Krin's weather being what it was, there was no need for a cape or a coat. At least the FedSuns variant of the uniform had a white jacket and the warm weather variant was light and comfortable, using the Lyran blues under the Antallian sun was something he'd prefer not to think about, especially since they'd probably need for him to wear his cooling vest underneath.

"Admiring yourself, my love?" asked his wife's voice from behind him.

He turned towards her and felt dazzled again. She was wearing a low cut dress made out of some iridescent material that fit her like a glove.

"Anton has really outdone himself," he commented, with a smile on his face.

Kym made a twirl and stopped facing him, "He has, hasn't he?"

"A master of his craft, for the most perfect of models," he said as he kissed her hand

"Flatterer," she replied as she placed a hand on her chest.

"It is but the truth," he replied with an earnest smile.

She shook her head, "you really should save the sweet talk for the dinner, dear," she said with a smile on her face, "Much as I appreciate hearing your compliments," she placed a single finger atop his lips before he could utter his customary protests, "you can do that afterwards and if you are a good boy? You might even get a present." she said as her smile turned sultry and then wink.

The distance between Hoffman House and the administrative center wasn't particularly big, not that a delegation would walk between the two, forms needed to be kept after all, but it did mean that the motorcade didn't had to travel all that long.
The motorcade was the way of travel for delegations, including the FedCom's.
It wasn't just a matter of security security, it was also pomp and a spectacle for the public at large.

As motorcades went this one was on the light side, only a couple of limos and no real military vehicles as escort, just a few motorbikes from the local constabulary, which was rather interesting considering the reputation Port Krin had earned for itself.
There were more extensive precautions, but those were out of sight and, well, the limos were above Inner Sphere Standard, befitting somebody of Morgan's station.
In other words, there were combat vehicles that were less well protected.

Still, forms had to be kept as part of the spectacle of the motorcade, it meant not taking the more direct route and, instead, moving towards main-street, Port Krin's 'Founder's Boulevard', and then down it towards the Administrative Center.

"Interesting," Kym muttered.

"Dear?" he asked as he turned towards her.

As was used, he was sitting by the door, with Kym taking the middle seat. It wasn't an arrangement his security detail was happy with, but it was one they'd have to live with.

"Look," she said leaning over him, and pointing at the window.

He paused for a moment and glanced at his wife before looking outside. The sun wasn't quite set yet, but the city was bright and colorful.

The usual Holography they had seen was present but also quite a few people, families, couples and even small groups of men and women, were moving in relative tranquility, something that would have been rather risky a few short months before.

He hummed, "They must be putting a lot of effort here."

"Indeed," she chuckled, "Port Krin now seems to have a respectable nightlife, family friendly even, and plenty of police," she noted.

"From what I understand, this has always been the better part of town..." he started

"True and it could still be astroturfed, but" she frowned, "We really should see about having our people mingle..."

Receptions were, in Kym's opinion, both a matter of flash and of substance. It wasn't just looking pretty for the ThreeDees, though it was a reason. No, it was also about networking, building bridges or, in this case, foundations.
Of course there were many things about this one that veered off the norm, so there was a question there.
The Administrative Palace of Port Krin wasn't the most elaborate place she had the pleasure of visiting in its official function, but it was a Star League era facility, with all that it implied. Of course, Antallos had been still new when Amaris made his move, so it never had the same grandeur as other League palaces that survived to this day and it also had years of Comptrollers taking over and playing their most decadent fantasies in the palace.
Luckily there was little sign of those, the Uners had been rather busy redecorating and rebuilding given how different the rooms were compared to the images MIIO had on file.

She felt a shudder travel up her spine at those holos, 'so tacky,' her mind shuddered.

Her arm was entwined with Morgan's as they entered the reception area, while the announcer introduced them as "Duke and Duchess New Syrtis, Ambassadors plenipotentiary of the Federated Commonwealth", that had been at her insistence, the Uners seemed to had few nobiliary titles of their own, and no peerage to speak of, which would have made their full titles come across either as braggarts or showing a sign of status that didn't seem to have the same admiration in their hosts as it did within the Sphere and neither were good ways of opening diplomatic relationships.

She curtsied instinctively and entered into the reception hall.

The room was dominated by a Dark Marble floor, brass fixtures and deep blue Satin drapes on the walls and windows. It was elegant if a bit bare bones. Then again the Uner seemed to favor plain styles from what she was able to see and the reception was going to be a humble affair, at least by inner sphere standards, not that she'd hold that against them.
The crowd was on the smallish side, perhaps a couple dozen people, most of them wearing the UN 'formal' fashion which was interesting by itself.

It was so very… unique. Tuxedos for men and relatively simple, if colorful gowns for the women, very streamlined, it felt like stepping into an old Earth Alliance period piece.
The only ones who broke the monotony in men's formalwear were the few people in UNer military dress uniforms, far more eye catching than the black tuxedos, but still very underwhelming compared to Sphere norms.

The 'spacy' personnel were in what was called Navy whites, something positively twentieth century. As the name described they were all white dress suits, with some gold braiding both in the arms and shoulders and colorful ribbons but few medals over their left breast. The ground forces, on the other hand, were in Tan Jackets and blue pants with a red trim, no boots, no spurs, and again some braiding, some gold here and there, but limited, muted and again, the ribbons and few if any medals and no medallions or swords of any sort.

They weren't anywhere near as sharp dressed as her Morgan, but it was their style and that said something about them, she wasn't quite sure what was that, though, at least not yet.

She smiled as they glided across the room, feeling the sights of all the present focus, that was pure show, now was the interesting part: mingling.
As she reached the canape table she and stole a glance at Elsa. Her Secretary was in a rather daring dress in Steiner colors, arm in arm with her flavor of the night, whom, if her eyes didn't fail her, was from the security detail. Kym gave a quick glance towards her and then towards one of the clusters of men in 'Navy Whites'. The younger woman shared her glance and then gave her a small nod back.

'Good,' Kym thought with a thin smile that never made it to her eyes, already planning the debriefing in her mind, she then turned towards the hosts and subtly prompted her husband forward, her face with a warm smile and calm demeanor.

The Governor was an intriguing man, of dark hair, with only a bit of white sprinkled in and tanned features, if a bit below average in one of their rather drab looking Tuxedos. Standing besides him, his wife was an exercise in contrast, tall, statuesque and dark skinned but her hair was a rather stunning shade of orange. Said hair was done in a somewhat 'asean' style chignon with a hair stick, a Binyeo was her guess there, and she was wearing a rather colorful and elaborate Quipao, very flattering of her figure, in bright red with a silvery geometric pattern on it.
As they approached them, the UN couple both offered them a slight bow, not court style and while it had some Kuritan rhyme to it, it felt less the highly ritualized ones she had seen off ambassadors and looked more like those of the common folk, but it had been the welcome the Protocol liaisons had agreed to.

"We are most pleased to welcome the representatives from New Avalon tonight," stated Governor Gotlieb.

Both Morgan and herself returned the bow, "It is our pleasure to be here tonight," replied Morgan with his usual flair, "Both in our name and that of our Nation."

And with that, the night begun.

December 12th 3043
Antallos System
Port Krin

The Antalian Sun was past its zenith as the convoy rolled into the UN base, the last few days since the reception had been filled with low level meetings but had been working towards today where they'd be seeing the governor face to face.
Kym Hasek was, for once, anxious, to the point she was tapping her leg, if slightly, against the limo's floor.

"Worried, dear?" Morgan asked his wife

"Not quite, beloved," she replied back, "Just thinking things over"

"Oh?" he asked her raising an eyebrow.

"Have you been reading the transcripts of the meetings?" she asked with not quite a frown.

"Just the extracts, mostly," Morgan seemed to blush a bit.

Kym hummed noncommittally, "then nevermind, keep your eyes open."

"Of course dear."

For his part Morgan had also been in thought, the base they were in now was on the big side, but that was hardly groundbreaking, big bases on key planets, and the UN considered this to be a key planet, were rather common, but it a relatively new facility and while it looked the part, he had also seen quite a bit heavy earth-moving equipment. Nothing strange there either, just the numbers, which for him it hinted to a significant underground facility. That stood to reason to some degree or the other, after all if WarShips are common in your armies, orbital support would be the same and, on the flip side orbital protection.

It was worth looking into.

The motorcade made a final turn and entered into a deep ramp, as they moved towards an underground area near a hangar complex.

"That answers that," Morgan said aloud as the limo came to a stop near an open armored door.

"What?" asked Kym with a puzzled expression.

"Just thinking aloud, dear," he said waving off, "and probably jumping to conclusions."

And with that, they stepped out of the limo towards the waiting UN Governor

"It is good to meet you again, your graces," Ahmed Gotlieb said with a slight bow

"The pleasure is ours, Governor," replied Morgan.

"Indeed," added Kym before she paused, "I thought your wife would be joining us today?"

"I fear she has been delayed due to her military responsibilities," he said with an apologetic expression on his face, "Nothing serious," he clarified, "but she will be joining us later."

"That is good to hear, as I am looking forward talking to her," Kym replied with a friendly expression.

"Excellent, then," the governor said motioning towards the open door, "shall we?"

They were in an above level room now, clearly part of the Crew area part of the Hangar, though refurbished for VIP use.
Which still meant a military aesthetic, nice carpeting and comfortable looking furniture, clean and neat, then again it was also new.

"I got to say, it is a rather unorthodox place for a diplomatic meeting," Kym stated as she sat down in a leather couch.

Ahmed Gotlieb nodded slightly, "No doubt, but we felt it was the best place for this one, besides I am sure his Grace here would like to see some of our machines from up close?" he finished offering her a smile.

Morgan replied with a greedy smile.

"I am sure he would," she paused for a second and glanced upwards, "I hope this arrangement isn't related to our unexpected arrival, though," to which Morgan nodded in echo.

The Governor smiled, "Truth be said, your arrival did accelerate our schedule, but I do think we would have had need of this place, sooner or later."

"Oh?" Morgan asked, his arms crossed and his expression somewhat guarded.

"Let me explain, as your assistant might be able to tell you, your Graces," he said tilting his head towards Kym and Morgan, "we take our name after the United Nations of the post Second World War."

"That they did, Governor," she replied with a raised eyebrow, "are you implying they were less than truthful?"

"Not really, but, your grace..." started Gotlieb but came to a stop as Kym raised her hand.

"Kym and Morgan will do," she said with a sharp smile, "We can dispense with the protocol in the here and now, right dear?" she said turnign towards her husband who nodded in reply.

"Very well, Kym, Morgan," he said motioning towards both of them, "then I will be Ahmed,"

"Excellent," Morgan replied with some genuine relief in his expression, which caused Kym to almost giggle.

"As I was saying, we didn't take the name after that UN, we are their direct inheritors," he replied with a serious expression on his face.

"I find it hard to believe that, Ahmed," interjected Kym, "Unless you mean thru the Terran Alliance?"

"We do not," replied the Ahmed.

"It is impossible, then" Morgan interrupted, "as far as I know that UN was never a government, just a diplomatic forum."

"Dear," Kym interrupted her husband, "why don't we let Ahmed clarify that statement?" she said with a flutter of her eyelashes, as her husband nodded, she turned towards the governor, "Please?"

"Certainly, beloved," he said with a tense smile, "While the UN you might be familiar from the history books, as Morgan here pointed out, was but a diplomatic forum, the one in our Earth was not."

"Your Earth?" Kym said, she blinked twice and her expression turned skeptical.

"The explanation does involve an accident with a hyperspace Jump, I fear." replied Ahmed with an apologetic expression

"A missjump?" Morgan asked a bit hesitatingly. Missjumps were serious business, and the source of tons of tall tales within the sphere, it wasn't the sort of word that was used lightly.

"Not quite, less an accident and more like an ancient booby trap." Ahmed paused, "I suppose I should start at the beginning, that is where the timelines diverged."

"And when is that?" Kym asked with an unreadable expression on her face

"Why, November 3rd 1991, the day the visitor arrived."

"Visitor?" asked Morgan.

"An alien vessel crashlanded in an island on the south pacific" replied the governor as he turned towards one of his aides and gave a small nod, "A warship and while its crew was dead, well, it was the push the UN needed to become a true planetary government like your Terran Alliance."

"That sounds like a rather fantastic story, Ahmed," Kym said, slowly, "I will assume you can provide evidence."

"I can, this is why we came here, after all," he said standing up, "Please let's move closer to the windows, the evidence is coming," he said motioning towards the large windows that faced the external area of the hangar

"Oh?" asked Kym as she and Morgan did likewise

"Like I said, the visitor turned to be a warship, tough enough to survive the reentry more or less intact, and gave us all a taste of things to come and while some tech we could re-engineering, others?"

At that time a mech appeared by the windows, fully humanoid, if with off features, long legs, a squat torso with a slit-style cockpit and two drums at the sides, behind where the shoulders where. It was a mostly green machine, with white segments and a pair of red bars on the left shoulder

The governor offered the mech a smile and a nod and the small slit-style cockpit seemed to offer a nod back and then it was off.

Morgan was used to jumpjets, but what the mech was doing was above and beyond and felt closer to WIGE, except for the part that the machine really didn't had the shape to make use of it, "Flying brick," he mouthed.
That is to say add powerful enough engines and anything can fly, he wasn't quite sure how it was sticking close to the ground, but, maybe the angling of the jets? Morgan's expression turned pensive.

Then it Blasted off and seemed to move into an arc, not unlike a jumpjet, though the sudden change in direction would have been beyond any machine they knew off.
And if that had been impressive the short set of acrobatics it engaged in, well both Kym and Morgan knew enough of ASF and piloting to know no human pilot could survive some of those maneuvers, let alone remain conscious.

"That mech is a drone," she seemed to exclaim as she pointed at the machine.

"What?" Morgan asked, eyes wide. Drones were a complicated tech in the Inner Sphere, at least in military circles and were tainted by the extinct Caspar Drones of the Star League SDS systems which had been one of the integral factor for Amaris to coup the Hegemony.
No military made use of them in combat since, in part because of the fear of another Amaris and in part because even the best systems the successor states could figure were ages behind the Caspars, thus the most common for of drone within the sphere were target drones.
But no drone that Morgan was aware of could perform like that.

"No, it is not, though it is not a mech," he said as he seemed to gesture towards his aide again.

"What else can it be?" Morgan asked a bit louder than he'd intended.

"A suit power Armor," replied Ahmed with a shit eating grin as the machine, the power armor, came to a stop not far from the glass.

"That is in poor form, Ahmed," snapped off Morgan.

Power armor was rare, consigned to the memory of the Star League, but it was also rather form fitting, not fifteen meters tall.

"I am being serious, Morgan, look" he said motioning at the machine as it seemed to open up revealing the upper chest and head of a figure in a fully enclosed flight suit who then proceeded to jimmy herself over and out of the machine in a rather acrobatic way and was almost as tall as the machine itself.

"What?" Morgan stuttered as the figure removed her helmet revealing an orange haired woman with a sharp smile and familiar features, who, as she put her helmet under her left arm waved at them with her free hand.

"I believe you both remember my wife?" offered Ahmed as he motioned towards the waving Giant.

NOTES: Now the sharp among you all will notice that I changed the arrival of the Macross, this isn't a typo but it helps making it the POD for the BT universe as well (since no successful soviet coup in the 90s or second cold war either) and it gives some extra time to explain the progress in unpacking the tech on the Macross, reverse engineering it AND fight the unification war, while it is still a very short time frame it is far more plausible than canon