Starwars - Monday, December 06, 1999, 6:11 PM --------------------------------------------- Before you is the muscular figure of Jonathan Steiner. Standing close to 6'7" in height, Steiner seems a little out of place around most others. Long blond hair is tied in a ponytail at the back of his neck. A matching blond goatee surrounds his mouth. Dark blue eyes dart from side to side as he glances around, taking in the surroundings and any dangers they may hold. His lips are thin and always seem to be curved in a half smile, half smirk. Currently, Steiner is wearing a uniform that is White in color and consists of a jacket which bears the proper stripes and insignia's of the Griffon Alliance. Underneath he wears a white dress shirt and a black tie. His pants are creased perfectly and are White as well. On the sleeves of the jacket there is a large gold band, flanked by 2 additonal gold bands above it. Placed above the last gold band is a design showing the Pride Station, surrounded by 3 large stars, showing him to be the Armiger. On the shoulderboards of his tunic is an anchor and 5 gold stars in a circle. Attached to the shoulderboards via gold clasps is a foot length, white cape. On the left breast pocket of the unifom is a Golden Pin, depicting a pair of Wings that sprout out from the center of a Supernova which is inladen upon a black onyx center. A brimmed cap is worn on his head and placed on the cap is the standard Griffon Shield with a pair of worlds in its clutches. Of poise and bearing, Poguala is a striking figure, standing close to two meters tall. Her skin is a deep, deep bronze, and extremely healthy with a coppery glow that gives it an apporach to mahgoany. Her body is well-built, hardly slim as much as well-formed, with long legs, broad shoulders, a modest bosom and sloping hips. The curves of her face are elegant, her aquiline nose and full lips a study in linear contrast. Her eyes, a deep green with darker rims, are set into almond-shapped sockets. Her black hair is sleek and thick, with a coppery sheen that rivals her skin. The Lady Dawntreader looks a picture in her uniform, a light beige flight suit, grey paded vest, brown belt, and brown boots that end just below her knees. On the left sleeve of the suit is the New Republican insignia, struck next to a globe, denoting her place in the Diplomatic Corps. The pants legs of her suit are fitted with a number of convenient pockets, no doubt intended to hold the various accoutrments of her trade. Poguala's hair is dressed in proper Alderaani style: a long, thick braid, coiled in an elegant halo at the top of her head. A tall handsome Duros that has a dark tinge to his skin is before you. He is well built in his mid to late thirties, with a long scar running from his left cheek down to his neck is visible. His red eyes are stained yellowish from a disease that is seldom heard of in these medical times. He is wearing a uniform that is a dark Naval blue and consists of a Jacket which bears stripes and insignia's, underneath which is a white shirt and a black tie. The pants are creased perfectly and are Naval Blue as well. On the sleeves of the Jacket are a series of 1 golden band of 4 Golden strips and type that indicate him to be the Fleet Admiral of the Griffon Navy. On the left breast pocket of the uniform is located a Golden pin that displays the front of a large Dreadnought class warship that has a multitude of Griffons flying escort for it indicating Space Warfare Operations. Just below that pin is another one, a Golden pin that displays a pair of Wings that sprout out from the center of a Supernova which is in laden with a black onyx center indicating Starfighter Operations. Above the left breast pocket is found certification metals and certification ribbons. The uniform also has a cap that is brimmed and has the standard Griffon shield and a pair of worlds in its clutches. A solitary X-Wing glides in from the vastness of space, passing through the blue shield with ease. Her engines, at a minimum, pull her into position through the air, where she finally pushes down against the ground. Her wings fold back into place, and her engines whine down to nothing. A few moments after her landing, the cockpit hatch is pushed open from the being within. The man stands, withdrawing his helmet from his head, revealing a slightly mussed, unshaven Bazil. He contorts himself out of the cockpit, landing on the ground with a small thump. The cockpit hatch closes again, as he motions and speaks to a nearby technician, who thereby goes about ordering lesser techs into work. After an array of chattering, whining, and beeping, Bazil's astrogation droid is finally hefted from it's place behind the cockpit, and leveled on the firm ground. The droid then promptly goes off, beeping to it's merry little heart's content. Bazil, however, does not look so estatic. He nods satisfactorily at the techs, and then persues his own course, turning, and looking about the deck a bit. Poguala is waiting by the Hope, leaned against the long traingular wing of the ship, talking with a few technicians who seem to be pointing to the ramp, which is currently retracted. She sighs softly. Amonishing words are hardly her business, but this particular bay, she is particularly willing, indicating various areas of the shuttle where she feels she needs work. A droid sits next to her, clearly recording her instructions beeping with an annoying shrill sound as certain points are confirmed. The noise is veritably jarring when a request is not. From the direction of the Main Corridor comes Steiner, followed closely by two aides who clatter around him, holding out datapads for him to review and he shakes his head before growling, "Leave me by for 5 minutes, please." He sighs again, moving now towards the Colibri, hands once again clasped behind his back. A loud clattering sound emits from behind Bazil. He turns, blinking in surprise for a moment as he notices several techs scurrying to replace a piece of equipment to his fighter -- before he notices. He curses lightly, before walking towards them in dismay, motioning vividly with both arms, shouting out several rather obscene things. With a few calming words from the chief technician, Bazil waves him off, then proceeds to walk off, in no particular direction at all. Frustration seems to rule the day, the moment filled with the bemoaning of technical SNAFUs and arguing of fine tuning and finer points. Poguala raises her head to the technicians who have come to act as her personal bane, explaining in her placid and capable way "I am certain all of yu are more adept at such things than I--do try to get the bay doors of the shuttle to open withing a few hours. I should be pleased to meet with my aide as soon as it is possible to open the doors." With a rush of air the airlock to the Rishar opens and a tall duros male exits striding out taking a few steps forward allowing the airlock to close securly. He scans the large hangar bay and barely spots Steiner in the distance he starts walking towards him slowly. He looks over quickly at some of the clattering around the fighters being repaired after the battle very curiously. Steiner's aide's go quiet, but they continue to follow him towards the Colibri. He doesn't seem to notice anyone else in the Landing Bay as he murmers something to himself, hands moving in a complex movement of gestures. Montgomery picks up his pace to a fast cadenced walk towards the Armiger meaning to cut him off before he reaches the Colibri. When he gets within distance he says, "Armiger, may I have a few moments of your time please sir?" saluating when he is within almost 10 feet exactly. A momentary grin passes Bazil's maw for a moment as he notices another in a similar predicament as his own. He smiles lightly to himself, and then walks over to Poguala. With almost renewed spirit, Bazil gives a short greeting to the woman, "Hey there, dipl'mat." The tone and construction of the short phrase giving heed to his acquaintment with her before. Steiner turns his head towards Montgomery and he raises an eyebrow slightly, "Of course...where?" Montgomery quickly thinks looking around and looks back, "Well sir, ethier on board your transport," motions at the Colibri, "Or on the Rishar. Its not terribly secretive sir but in my opinion it is extremly important." The Representative turns. An eyebrow is raised at athe unusual greeting. It is not a perturbed look, by any means: merely curious, it matches the pleasant demeanor of its owner. Her hand grasps her arm just under the Diplomatic Corps patch that identifies her in her well-pressed uniform. A brief once over of Bazil, and she murmurs, "Flight Officer McKenzie. How fares you this hour? I trust all goes well...technical difficulties aside personal language issues aside." She smiles briefly, having proffered a discrete and appropriate jab at Bazil's colorful language. A sudden look of confusement befriends Bazil for an instant, as he suddenly realizes. A quick glance to his suit reveals the truth. He smiles slightly, looking back up to her, "Ahh... yes... that's Lieutenant now, I must have forgotten to return this old suit when I got promoted earlier..." He quickly changes the subject, "I'm fairly well right now, though still recovering from stiff joints from being cramped up in my beast of a ship. Though I do despise newly-initiated techs." A quick glance behind Poguala, and then back to her, revealing his notion, "As I see you have been aware of now, eh?" Poguala glances behind her. Her gaze on the technicians working so steadily is unwavering, enough to cause a few to look from their work to the tall, stately woman. Her response is...diplomatic. "They are doing a rather admirable job given the circumstances. The attack has left us...short on technicians." When she turns back, she glances at the suit again, then asks, "You will have the rank re-painted, of course...?" It is more a statement, her tenor tone soft, but with a caedence and reverberation of one who generally doesn't speak without an aim and a mind to get it. "it is my hope as well that you have shown patience--I only suggest it--for the circumstances under which they work are trying, at best." Bazil nods in return, "Up til now, I have, though I suppose what with the attack and everything, everyone has had their nerves racked, and noone is quite at their best." He sighs slightly, "I haven't even gotten any sleep for several days, now. Not a fitting amount for active flight duty. Luckily, I'm going off duty for several hours soon, and I'll be able to get some sleep then." He offers a small smile. Poguala lifts her hand slowly, to touch the unrested shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. She smiles, slowly, an emerging sort of smile, precise but uncalculated, a hallmark of its honesty. "I am glad," she says softly, "that you have been about to defend us. I assure you your rest is a well-earned one. I thank you. You are....dealing well with the tragedy and its surrounding events?" He nods again, showing little emotion, except for exhaust, "Yeah... I've tried not to think about all the deaths, and whatnot. I don't know what really to think..." He shrugs momentarily. Poguala says, "I do not know if there is anything one can think. It effects our emotions, our centers, our sense of what is right, appropriate." She removes her hand only then. "Perhaps I should let you rest. There is no need to burden with such questions before a rest. Please, take my sincere thanks for your work, and may you find peace in your slumber." "Thank you... you'd be surprised how very little we pilots receive thanks personally." he replies, smiling. "Good night." With that, he bows slightly, and takes his leave.