Steady quietly sits back a flicks off his suits shields.

"you would think someone who fort at pikes landing would get a bit more respect.
Somtimes I think those in charge need to remove themselves from their bubble and remember the universe is made up of many people and true faith is hard to find after all any fool can quote a book." steady voice carrying around the room to see if any figures took the bait of coversation.

OOC(tis awsome not done anything like this ages for clarity /backstory grunt at pikes landing at which point was selected during combat so not a 1st gen.)

Steadyhand gives a small grin.

"apologise I mock noone, my frustration simply extends from troubled times immortals are quick to anger without the fear of death and I feed this lack of fear of God's judgement colours their faith."

"and pikes landing is where your Templar troubles started. The first recorded deployment of clone troopers. I hazard a guess many of your victims mutter the phrase 514. I spent a good deal of time as an immortal dealing with these tainted clones including saving some of my brother's from heths madness."

Steady paused it had been a long time since he spoke with a new face outside the empresses program. "Tell me what Do YOU now of my kind??"

*Metsar looks over at Adamance with piqued interest. He checks his datapad and pulls up the communication, and begins reading. The silence becomes almost awkward as he studies the report. He finishes it with a "Hmph" and thinks for a moment.*

"Seems a wolf has decided to howl. At the moment however we do not know how loud. Quite frankly I doubt there is much to worry about. This has many signs of a bluff. Their open announcement and giving forth details on their plans are not something a terrorist hoping for success would do. I also find it funny that he expects to egress his agents out of Amarr space on cloaked dropships. If such a claim is true I motion we immediately purchase some of these warp-drive capable dropships. But I suppose we must have some contingency in place in case of the unlikely. For now monitor the situation and send me updates. Perhaps see if he has any capsuleer support, I doubt he'll get far without it."

*Metsar quickly types on his datapad and it makes a small electric chirp. A humming sound starts up as translucent walls of blue energy conduct themselves around the entrance, trapping the newcomer. Every so often a blue spark leaps from the system. Metsar gets up and approaches, his wry smile back.*

"Ashaltiasten, sir. Unfortunately due to recent Matari terrorist threats we are on alert, and quite frankly your appearance does not bode well at the moment. So we are taking some additional precautions. I advice you not to touch the stasis webifier, it hurts. So now I am forced to ask, why is an obvious Matari sympathizer doing in PIE's emissary of the Summit?"

*Not pleased by his ignorance, Yassavi turns to the traitor who still stands just outside the Emissary door*

"We are commanded by God to spread His word to the uninformed. You know the truth path, yet you don't follow it. We have no duty to your kind."

"The doors of heaven open but once. Ours is not a God of second chances. They opened for you, and you turned away... And so now must this door close to you as well."

Could you please show me where in the Scriptures it says that none can be redeemed if they fell each

*Looks at datapad.*

"If you truly and sincerely wish to know of Amarr then start here;"

*Begins transferring datafiles to Griefer;

- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/The_Scriptures
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Amarr
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/History_of_the_Amarr_Empire
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Government_of_the_Amarr_Empire
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Demographics_of_the_Amarr_Empire
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Amarr_Emperor
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/True_Amarr
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Ni-Kunni
- http://wiki.eveonline.com/en/wiki/Khanid_(bloodline)

The pad chirps when done. Metsar looks up.*

"Perhaps that may be of assistance, I would return to your quarters and study them."

"I am sorry but we are not teachers, we are defenders of a vast Empire. If your interest in the Amarr is sincere, of which I am doubtful since you seem to have no interest in reading even a handful of articles, then I apologize. Perhaps if Matari terrorists weren't making threats and you didn't arrive covered in tribal regalia I'd have let you stay in the lobby. However with your introduction the only advice I can offer is that you visit a priest."

*Shifts his attention to the new arrivals and makes a manipulation on his pad. The stasis field fluctuates and morphs around the soldier and his retinue, but keeps Griefer out.*

"Hail, templar. I am the current ranking officer here. Please come in, what brings you to the Praetoria?"

Is it not basic amarr etiquette to all be knowledgable about your own ways (out of rp: this is the only thread to learn about the amarr mindset)? Also I did read them, but no where did it say that the amarr had the divine right to torture a race to symbolize what they suffered during the initial formation of the empire. I will continue to wait here.

*He gives one quick glance to Griefer and smirks*

SCUM!

* He Returns his glance to Metsar*

I have just returned from [i]Molden Heath[/]... However, before we continue I would request that you dispose of this filth behind me.

((Out of character. What the Amarr do the the Minmatar and other races is far from torture. Also this isn't the only thread you can learn about the Amarr. You can honestly learn plenty from the wiki links we provided, or if you wish we can create a separate thread out of the Intergalactic Summit to discuss them. However this is a role playing area, and as such we take everything anyone says in character very seriously. To be frank, your character doesn't exactly have the best track record. ))

He bows slightly and takes his datapad back before he puts his it back into one of his many pockets.

"That would be very helpful, thank you very much, I've been jumping room to room attempting to figure all of this out. The compound is just so large I hardly know which way I am going."

Galm flashes a false, but convincing smile.

Good, I got my foot in the door.

He'd been tracking down whispers of the two Minmatar children in the Summit since he first heard of the aging Templar in a nearby forum. His original intent seemed simple enough: intercept the Templar, make an offer, kill him if he refuses. Of course, that was before he knew that there were two of them under one roof. For all he knew, there could be even more. It was an unsettling business.

Anything to make things right, he thought to himself.

He looks over at the two children, then back to Maikyl.

"Legion? Oh, no. I am not with the Legion, this was my father's jacket. He had a bit of a tradition of keeping every combat patch he served under. I try to keep up the tradition to honor his spirit. Now if you will excuse me."

He flips his coin over to Malkyl.

"Take that as a token of my appreciation for your time."

Fae redirects his attention to ReGnYuM's two children. He gives both a cold and clinical look before turning back to the Templar. Immediatly his mind went back to his Nova Knife.

Oh please spirits, don't let it come to that.

"Excuse me, sir. I see you're attempting to deal business with your two servents. Are you... selling?"

Anything to make things right.

*Metsar finishes sealing the wound. He sighs and grabs a towel, wiping the blood from his hands.*

"His body may live, but I doubt it, the knife cut too deep. What a waste of a clone."

*He checks the pulse.*

"Dammit he's fading. Should you perish, may God ease your passing, and guide you to your next life. Torsuul, clean up his blood."

*The slave, with his Ealurian brawn, lifts the dying clone and places him on a sofa by the far wall. Then resumes cleaning the bloodied marble floor. Metsar stands and faces Steady.*

"Do not be so eager to die. I know what you're thinking. Your immortality gives you no fear of death, and you think this makes you strong? Such is folly. How can one fight fiercer than others, go farther than others, defeat others, if they lack the greatest instrument God gave our spirits; the fear of dying. A day will come when we will return to flesh no more. So I treat every life as though it were my last. For life is God's currency, spend it well..."

Right behind the entering Crusader, comes a full armoured Templar, with a sword and Scrambler Rifle sheated on his back.

He notices the corpse inside, and looks briefly at the other Paladin. He takes up is hand to his ear on his helmet, and says "Sovalje Twelve, karalmas shlech icinkh ta vatkhad anos en theka." in old Amarrad.
Two slaves quickly enters the room thereafter and while one starts dragging away the mutilated corpse, the other slave starts wiping the golden floor.

Templar Twelve then assumes his natural position beside Paladin Metsar without giving the man with Sanmatar tattoos any interest.

Feeling a hand upon him he opened his eyes still clutching the ritually enscribed bulltet held in his hands. He rose " i come here from a place far away that has seen blood shed and men cast upon the altar of violence a thousand fold.". Placing the bullet secrelty in a pocket within his robes, "I will go to the cathedral in due time, I prayed to focus myself to not let wayward thoughts of those times lead me astray."

"My name is Arthurias, my brothers in arms call me Wolverine"

((anyone know a good ammarian drink, or anything but Quafe? ))

I came here to get payback,and last you see is massive explosion flames from detinated bomb,and new clone arise in the clone pool little smile on his face

*Metsar gets up from the desk and walks over to the new arrival. His own uniform bore a myriad of ribbons and medals of various Amarr military orders he had served in. If one looked closely they could even see a medal of the Bragian Order, covered up but not forgotten. However the most prominent insignia are those of the Praetoria, including the paladin crest on his right shoulder. He gives a quick bow.*

"Ashaltiasten, welcome to the offices of PIE Inc, I am Paladin Metsar. What brings you to us this day?"

Upon being approached Adiran stands up and assumes a position if attention.
"I am seeking my next tour of duty, sir." He says smartly.
"Adiran Zanzalin, Medical Corps, 4th Battalion, 2nd Marines. My contract was coming to an end when i was picked up for VBSS ((visit board search and seize)) . After that I was picked up by SPECWARCOM. That is where I became imortal. When my contract was up I continued to serve while attending Dust Universaty. I'm here today looking for a home where I can still serve my Emperess and continue to hone my skills. I was told this is the place to be."

[[Please forgive my intrusion, but do you always come to diplomatic spaces armed for a mission, cousin?]] she asks in Napanii, a Caldari language any translation expert system currently on the market should speak flawlessly.

"I would say it is. We are one of the oldest empyrean corps, serving the Empire for over a decade. In that time we have proven that we are the most stalwart defenders of God's dominion, and the righteous swords of Her Majesty Empress Jamyl. Our mighty fleet of capsuleers guard the heavens, and our growing army of templars form the golden bulwark against heathens and heretics alike. Do you have any specific questions for me?"

"Uh... okay" says Kador as the armoured man turns to leave.

Somewhat flustered by the brief encounter, and somewhat confused as to the purpose of the visit, he turns to the other figure.

"Was that Nanpali I heard across the translators" he asks in Amarrian.... realising his own stupidity he pulls out the small neocom unit Canus had given him and checks for translation programmes, satisfied with the one he finds he translates his words into the woman's foreign language.

"Welcome honoured guest. What can I do for you?"

Then he hastily adds

"Of which people are you? You garb says Matari, but your tongue says Caldari. Pardon This One but I am a little on edge as of late."

Kador beckons the warrior to follow him inside where he takes the soldier aside, then to take a seat.

"Can I get you anything Ms...?"

"... Hm," she says, looking after the departing assault suit, then taps her wrist unit; her voice, when she speaks again, comes from her arm, speaking fluent (obviously translated) Amarrian. "For a moment, I thought we might have a problem."

She pops lightly onto her feet, then, incongruously, bows slowly and formally from the shoulders. "Respectfully, templar, and with apologies, neither is wholly accurate," she says as she follows where beckoned. "The suit is my usual equipment because it complements certain Caldari technology; there is sadly no Caldari equivalent on the market. However, the language is also borrowed from others. I am Achur, myself.

"Ms. Ryeon, templar. Ryeon Yun Hee. And I am fine, thank you; I was going to look in on Fae-haan's shrine of three ways and thought I should stop and pay my respects." The suit's single burning eye takes in the new room, its owner resuming her restless, absent-minded hopping.

"It is a beautiful place you have built here."

He nod politely at her explaination, breaths a sigh of relief.

"Indeed it is Ms Yun Hee, though this pales in comparison before our Catherdral of the Stayed Sword. If you are interested in Ancient Amarrian architecture such a place would be a great interest to you as many aspects of older generational differences are built seamlessly into modern Amarrian architecture.... but forgive me where are my manners. "

He quickly walks into the back offices fetching two cups, refilling the vessel of spiced wine, and filling another with pure mountain water. He quickly hurried back with the elegant pitchers placing them neatly on the table.

"I am Templar Crusader Kador Ouryon, it would be amiss of me not to offer any guest a drink while they visit the offices of Paladin Metsar over there" he says, pointing the blonde man, already enagaged in conversation with an Amarrian new comer.

"Please go ahead, here with have a pleasant vintage of spiced wine, and in the other pitcher some spring mountain water from Amarr Prime."

"I apologize, Templar Crusader Ouryon; I ... have miscommunicated a little. 'Yun Hee' is only my given name; 'Ryeon' is my family.... Hm."

The suit's ember eye turns to the pitcher of water, and the head cants a few degrees to the left.

"Is there so much water on Athras that you can afford to export it?..." She pause a moment, considering. "Water from a desert world, far from home.... This has symbolic significance, does it not? May i ask its nature?"

"Where do I sign up?" He says with a smile. All of the age and hardship leaves his face with that one smile and he seem almost to young to be in a uniform of any type.

((Barring any requirements to join, former eve pilot myself.))

"What rates ((naval term for job title. i am active duty USN.)) do you have available?" I have extensive medical knowledge that has no application among our community. Apart from that basic combat knowledge and advanced heavy weapons are my current qualifications."

(( **** walked into that one..... calculating RP, simulating a field of idiocy, computing buckets and buckets of words.... Watch this space))

The man with the Assault Ck.O walks back through the entrances again. This time with his helmet off and his shields down. Feeling stupid after leaving he sits back down and wait for the conversation between Ouryon and Ryeon. Looking at his neocom he checks the battle timer for his corporation again making sure of the battle time. He is focused now on what he came to talk about.

"The Praetoria accepts any and all specializations, and generally categorized along the five current divisions; assault, heavy, logistics, scout, and commando. Though we are currently in need of some more heavy support to bolster our squads. As for requirements of entry I'd say the most important is a record of Amarr loyalism, unmarred by any questionable activities or allegiances. We also require the adherence to only Amarr dropsuits, unless no other alternative is available such as scouts currently. And when an Amarran option becomes available for that suit it is expected to switch to it. You can use any weapons or gear of course. Hmm... This would probably be more helpful."

*Metsar walks over to the desk and picks up a datachit from a stack of them.*

"Here, this is our recruitment information. You can upload it to your NeoCom for review (( https://forums.dust514.com/default.aspx?g=posts&find=unread&t=82701 )). It should explain the application process clearly. We are always eager for new members, and I thank you for your interest. Is there anything else I can help with or clarify?"

"My commander, the Paladin has an attachment to Athra. Its is his pleasure to always have such water on hand." Kador replies in an offhand manner, shrugging.

Perhaps I shouldn't have used it, he contemplated internally.

*Metsar takes a moment while the datachit uploads to greet the returning visitor. Though he wears Caldari armour, with his helmet now off Metsar can see he is of an Amarran bloodline.*

"Hail, and welcome. I'm sorry I could not greet you your first time in. Since you seem slightly hurried, did you have any specific business with us?"

*Metsar pulls out his NeoCom and opens the chat channel.*

"Well, if you are interested in sqauding up for the war effort you can connect with PIE soldiers in the PIE Public channel. As for contacts, I suppose a friendly history with the Praetoria will surely bring about those contacts. After some matches I could also bring you into higher level channels for the war so that you can coordinate orbitals with Amarr loyalist capsuleers. If you want to build a relationship with the Amarr community I also recommend the channel Imperial Congregation. It is not run by the PIE Alliance, but is more of a forum for discussion between loyalist. "

"... Hm." The scout's head cocks a few degrees in the other direction. "Such attachments are...." She trails off, then her head levels.

"Your hospitality is impressive, Templar Crusader, but I fear that I would not be able to accept what you offer without causing offense to your hall. I possess no 'diplomatic' clone, you understand. I do not know your customs, but I fear that a stock clone's exposed face is not fit for such places as this, even if it is a common quality among us."

Adiran returns wearing robes of black and brown. Waiting for Metsar he clutches a datachip in his hand.

*Metsar returns to his desk and then notices Adiran entering the emissary. He waves for him to come over while absentmindedly sipping a cup of cold tea that he had left there a while ago.*

Kador smiles politely.

"Such is fine Ms Ryeon. We are all children of God are we not?....Perhaps it is not your belief but it is mine. But I do understand your sentiment. I apologise if I offended."

He glances around the room, catching the returned armoured form of the Caldari mercenary.

"Consider your regards accepted and returned. You are always welcome here if you seek to discuss matters of mutual importance. More often than not you will always find someone here.... Now if you will pardon me I think our guest here wishes to speak with me."

Carefully Kador stood trying to avoid shaking the table. He bowed formally to Ms Ryeon, then crossed the distance between the couches and the Mercenay.

"Hail Son of the Amarr. Welcome to the emissary."

*Metsar takes the datapad and begins syncing the information to his central console, creating a recruitment file for Zanzalin. A swirling holo display spins carelessly across his desk as the data streams.*

"Very good, yes the next step would be to send me a personal mail on your NeoCom as your application. I'll pass that to my superiors and put it on the PIE forums. Then we will set up an interview, and if that goes well you'll just send a perfunctory application to the corp itself for acceptance. Unfortunately they won't activate your forum account until that final step. Security reasons, I'm sure you understand."

*The holographic animation dissipates into a mist of light, signalling the file is complete. Metsar slides the datapad back over to Zanzalin.*

"I look forward to receiving your formal application. I will most likely be conducting the interview as well, however there's a chance one of our capsuleer recruitment officers will take it. Do you have any questions?"

"No offense was taken, Templar Crusader," the scout murmurs-- but half to herself, as the Amarrian is already departing.

She settles back, lapsing into silence and stillness, becoming as much a part of the chamber's scenery as it is possible for a chunk of Minmatar technology to be in Amarrian surroundings.

*Finishing his business with Zanzalin, Metsar looks over at Ryeon. He gets up from his desk and approaches. He gives her a brief bow. It is worth noting that his bow is slightly different from an Intaki or Achuran bow. It's more from the shoulders, with the head tucked down.*

"Ave, Ryeon-haan, if I am using the correct suffix. I apologize, Adamance can be over eager at times when the emissary is busy. I'm sorry if he left rather abruptly. Also pardon my eavesdropping, but I'd just like to say feel at ease. I understand your discomfort with wearing Matari equipment here, but there is little to be done until both our peoples bring our equivalents to the open market. May I interest you in tea? I usually drink Ealurian tea, but most find it distasteful and bitter. I have some milder Ni-kunni tea as well, or a Khanid green tea."

The scout rises and bows in return, a little lower than Metsar's.

"No apology is needed; I quite understand. Tea sounds lovely; however, as you may have overheard, I have no diplomatic clone and hesitate to ... impose a stock clone's features on this place. I am very grateful for the offer, regardless, and intend no disrespect by this."

"Ah I apologize, however your stock clone would by no means be an offence here. I understand however if you have personal qualms with the matter. Quite frankly I'm surprised your mask doesn't have some sort of built in straw. I thought Matari helmets had such failsafes for in case the suit's hydration system malfunctioned. A redundancy so the soldier doesn't have to expose his head while drinking. I mean no offence to your training, but poke around in that suit sometime. You'd be surprised at all its extra gadgets and so on. I once used the Matari logistics suit shamed to say, a long time ago before I joined PIE and we had none of our own. Everyday I found something new on the thing."

((Metsar did you not get my ingame mail about joining? Also sent you best times for interview.))

The armored Mercenary get gets up to greet Templar Ouryon. " It is nice to meet you face to face for once. I have already talked to Metsar about my main business wanting to fight with the empire. I came to talk to you saying that i hope we can put everything that we have said to each other in the past. If that is Okay." A friendly smile appeared on the mercenaries face when he finished his statement.

*Metsar doesn't even flinch at her appearance. Though he himself uses a custom combat clone more reminiscent of his old appearance, he knew many mercs ran the stock clone. And being a hospitaller he works on them often. Metsar leads the way to his desk and takes a seat, pressing a button on the console. Moments later his slave Torsuul emerges with a kettle and a few cups, pouring out two and setting them down. The tea's earthy aroma drifting up in wafts of steam.*

"Thank you, Torsuul." *He takes a sip and turns to Ryeon.* "It is a very good brew Ryeon-haan, enjoy. So were you born in Saiso?"

"Yes it would seem so. Only in the face of adversity can someone truly know the divine. How is one to ever feel it necessary to call upon the higher power if they are raised in a lush world like Gallente Prime? The soul needs hardship like iron needs the forge. To temper it and make it stronger. Idle hands are Molok's playground..."

*Metsar stares into his tea briefly before taking a sip.*

"By the way, my rank is Paladin. The second highest rank of PIE's ground troops. I serve directly under the Lord Marshal, Arrach Sarkal."

"What you say about adversity seems to be true ... and yet, different forms of hardship teach different lessons. The Gallente, too, came of age in difficult circumstances...." She takes a sip of tea. "As I understand it, lacking a world that made life difficult for them, they made life difficult for each other. If nation made war upon nation, tribe upon tribe, faith upon faith, is it any wonder that they seem to mostly think of group identity as a good way to get a lot of people hurt or killed?"

"I suppose that's one way to look at it, but quite frankly they have a strong group identity as of now. For all their talk they are rather intolerant of other opinions. Resulting in the Caldari State for instance. The Gallenteans all tout the party line and anyone who disagrees is a monster in their eyes. In my dealings I've found them to be a petty, selfish, arrogant people. Closed to the chosen life of other civilizations. So assured of their cultural and idealogical superiority. With a leader who governs and spurrs them on from within his city carved out of synthetic diamonds."

"They do often tend to speak as though they had received truth direct from the lips of the Creator, it's true. Despite their atheism, they hold on to faith in other sorts of abstractions with all their might. Though ... it's also true that they have little sense of history. For the Gallente, a century or two is a very long time, much too long to keep moaning about such things as a lost homeworld."

She cocks her head to the opposite side, colorless eyes wandering up the architecture, opposite.

"For the Caldari, a century or two ago may as well have been yesterday. What happened to them as a group, happened to each individual." She pauses, considering. "Is it a help to you, in dealing with the Matari, that you do not talk past each other in this way? Or-- I guess you do, after all; only on different issues."

*Metsar takes a long draft of his tea then sets the cup down, motioning for the slave to refill it.*

"When it comes to the Matari you have to remember a very large portion of them are still Imperial citizens, citizens I am sworn to defend. Most of them in fact are free and faithful after the Empress' decree. The Amarr and Minmatar share seven centuries of history. While those of the 'Republic' cry and detest over it, we see it far differently. To us they are 'our' people in rebellion, not some new nation. This is a civil war in our eyes... You know I've noticed a rather romantic notion among the Republic about their past. They have this nostalgic view of a harmonious tribal society. Little the forget that when the first golden fleet reached them, it found a barbaric society. Tribal wars, genocides, power struggles... They were enslaving each other! And their slavers were far crueler than ours... *ahem* Sorry to burst off on my tangent. Anyways when dealing with the Matari I take the stance that they are impetulant children. And I hope very much they will see the truth and return to us."

"Sometimes I wonder whether that is the way the Jove see all of us: as petulant children. After all, from all we know, it seems that when your civilization was young, theirs was already dying. What great regrets does our own foolish adolescence have in store for us, I wonder?"

She lifts her teacup to catch the Paladin's reflection, peering with one lustreless, smiling eye.

"Are we creating them already, perhaps?"

"The Jove are twisted and deformed monstrosities. They are inhuman in body, mind, and whatever shred of a spirit resides in their malformed bodies. Theirs is a grave sin. To scorn and alter the form bequeathed to us by God. To change His natural processes. And to proclaim such an advancement, an improvement on His work. I care not what such creatures think of us... And before you retort with 'what of our own cloned bodies' I'll say our changes are far from the scale of theirs. And even these bodies we admit are no longer the sacred flesh of our first lives. But of the deviant Jovians... As far as I'm concerned they are daemons lurking in the darkness of the void... And I would see them cleansed from existence... Our empires squabble and fight when we should turn our blades to those abominations. They are our greatest threat."

"... Sansha's Nation... The rogue drones... The Jove... and most of all the Sani Sabik... These are my personal daemons Ryeon-haan... And my immortal existence shall forever stand against them. I hate each for different reasons, most not even as religious in nature as you might think. Also the Caldari and Matari are wrong if they view their relationship with the Jovians as 'friendly.' How can we comprehend the machinations of a race so apart from our own? How can we hope to read any of their gestures with the tiniest shred of validity? ... ... ... I do not 'fear' the Jove. When you have seen the things I have seen, when you have done what I have done... You learn there is only one thing this universe offers that is worthy of your fear..."

*Metsar pauses and stares at his cup of tea, then slowly slides it off to the side.*

"... Inhumanity... I... Have faced the inhuman before."

*Metsar's serious expression fades into the ghost of a smile.*

"I'm not referring to you or clone soldiers in general if that's what you're inferring. I find most capsuleers and mercenaries are very much human aside from a few individuals. I speak of a greater inhumanity. Not one solely of the body, but the heart and mind as well. I've seen things you wouldn't believe... Many lives ago, before this immortality."

"I suppose I can't disagree with that. The future holds many possibilities. But as for today I am human, and quite frankly you, Kalamari, and Fae have been the most conversable individuals I've met at this summit. Aside from my fellow praetorians of course. Anyways I prefer not to be so serious all the time. So how is your corporation doing? The Initiative is well known to PIE."

"That's a shame to hear. I know the Initiative was founded upon the basis of securing the Caldari State. It's sad that's been lost, profitably or not..."

*The paladin's expression drops drastically. As though any hint of emotion had fled his features.*

"Nonetheless, if you'd prefer our previous line inquiry that's fine. I see you're not one for personas and appearances. As for myself I find them useful. And despite the many years of my life I can still draw on my upbringing in the lower nobility to maintain them. So what would you like to ask or discuss?"

"Well suite yourself, it has been an interesting conversation Ryeon-haan. Hmm..."

*Metsar reaches into the desk and pulls out a small aluminum box.*

"Ah here, some Khanid tea leaves. It is not often you find a partaker of teas among our ilk. Consider them a gift."

*He holds out the box.*

Weeks have passed since the last time the young merc came in. Curious about what has been happening lately in Pie Inc. he walks up to Metsar at his desk " How has everything been lately. I talked to Mira one point about recruitment but i changed my mind. Due to my resume being ruined by one of my past ceo's."

*It takes a moment for the weary Paladin to respond, the shadows of sleep deprivation under his eyes. The downsides to being stubborn about his new existence. Most mercs switch clones, or use resting chambers to minimize sleep. It was marginally known around that the PIE officer rarely switched clones on-station, and preferred natural sleep. However he apparently was having troubling getting much. It took another moment for recognition of the young merc to come to him. He set aside his current display panel and absentmindedly opened his file (he kept some notes on all visitors to the emissary).*

"Ashaltiasten, Knight. What seemed to be the problem?"

" Problem i have no problem. Well beside my profit margins being down. I simply came here to talk about the current status of the 24th imperial crusade. In positive news massive defeats lead to a increase in the war effort. Bad news is we have had massive defeats. " 21 then looks around and notices that the couch that was ruined before was replaced.

"Yes it would seem so, the Minmatar have made their advance and now we must respond. I wouldn't fret too much, these heathens strike out in waves. They won't be able to hold it for long against our forces. Just as a flame at first singes water, in the end the water drowns it. Ours is a battle doctrine of pressure and the Matar will relent in time. As for the other matter, I meant did Mirra specifically decline when you expressed interest in joining?"

"Ah, I see. Understandable how the record will look that way. Mercenary corporations tend to split and merge constantly, so I'm sure many mercs have a similar corp history. And Commander Mirra is quite a discerning recruiter. But we have him in part to thank for the strength, character, and discipline of the Praetoria's fleet."

*Metsar picks up a nearby cup of cold tea and takes a sip, grimacing slightly at the flavor. Definitely a brew better when hot.*

"So what has occupied you lately?"

*Metsar gets up from his desk as Kador settles into the coach with a Matari woman he'd never seen. He strides over and begins to notice their disheveled appearance and splotches of blood staining their clothing.*

"Kador! *slight sarcastic edge to his voice, unhappy.* Would you be so kind as to shed some light on this peculiar situation. When one of my templars enters this emissary covered in blood like he has just been to war and brings along an equally distressed woman I expect an immediate report, not a glass of water."

"I heard of the incident, messy business, and it seems more havoc is being wreaked there every day. I need to find a new place to play cards... However! I'm highly surprised you were present. Pray tell what brought you there? It does not seem like the kind of place you'd frequent."

"Well no harm done I suppose, I just took you for a different sort is all. You two should head into the back and wash, you look like hell. Also, if your servant is going to be staying here with any regularity I will need you to send me her registration and medical files. Can't have undocumented personnel residing here. She may use room seventeen."

*He pulls out a datapad and seems to make a note.*