Tea for...Three?

Aderanne Residence(#5600Ten)

The simplicity of this beachside home continues indoors, after one enters through a sunken doorway/mini lift into the main living room. A little hand-painted sign reads: "Leave your hat at the door". The polished, borl-wood floors are cool to the touch. The walls are painted cream and furniture pieces add serene, marine hues to the naturescape dcor. A large, sleekly molded hover-sofa faces the panoramic window ahead, fitted with a detachable cushion. A button on one side identifies it as convertible, and a puff-cot is hiding underneath. A small, kriin-wood desk is hanging open beside the window, cluttered with unfinished paintings. A couple yellow and blue form-chairs add seating, and a driftwood coffee table centers the space over a faded, green reed rug. Two narrow archways off either end of the living room lead to identical sleeping quarters and small, 3-piece fresher units.

Behind the entrance is the quaint little kitchen, equipped with high end appliances (sonic dishwasher, caf distiller, conservator, nanowave stove), sleek white cabinetry and countertops resembling sea glass. Around the back corner of the kitchen is a short hallway, capped in a larger bedroom suite and also housing a small storage closet, equipped with games and junk.

The 'master' suite retains the same soothing theme as the rest of the home. Soft, woodwind instrumentation plays on cue as one crosses the threshold. The bedroom houses one modest-sized relaxa-bed, but judging from the discrepancy in the floor's weathering and discoloration, a much larger piece used to dominate that space. Kriin-wood side tables stand on three legs along either side of the bed, one of them supporting a salt crystal lamp. Built-in shelving accommodates little seashore treasures, baubles, and photo-spheres that flicker running slideshows of family albums. Soft, gray-blue bedding invites one to snug in for a nap. A live, gnarl-wooded plant grows up from and orange pot beneath the porthole window with dark, spiny foliage and bright, yellow flowers.

The adjoined fresher is spacious, luxurious in clean, simple lines and fresh, white amenities - like the free-standing soaker tub, lined with incensed candles. A plastic curtain encircles a sunken portion of the floor, where a shower head rains down from the ceiling. There is a small doorway at the far end, leading down a steep flight of stairs to the golden sands below.

"That's everything then?" Ambrosia mumbles to herself, staring at a couple of bags packed at ready in the living room. Moving the family back to Ord Mantel is no easy feat, even when 'family' consists of just three people here. Three generations of Aderanne women. Gabi and her grandmother have already been escorted to the port, giving them the extra time needed for transport and settling in. Ambassador Delgard has stayed behind juuust long enough to oblige a last minute notice. One Senator Rolynd, of Ivaldi, on tour away from his world of representation, has requested a moment of her time. Her. Specifically. One can only imagine what for, and given the latest rumors surrounding the late Senator Hastell and his habits, she likely can! At least it it's the Press, shuffling over the golden sands towards her humble estate.

"C'mon, you sorry piece'o'poodoo," she grunts, delivering a thump with her foot to the stove switches. They're a bit slow to turn on, despite the pretty appearances. Finally, it glows red. Kettle's heating, tea in mugs on standby. She's as ready as ready's gonna get. Without the formal getup, that is.

Aside from the escort, the Senator arrives with no fanfare. The odd aspect is he has clearly chosen an entourage from his homeworld and not New Republic Marines as escort. They remain outside as he enters the Ambassadors dwelling. He is clad in ceremonial white of Ivaldi robes, his dark hair pulled back from his face and held in place with a silver clasp. Once at the door, he pauses at the threshold to wait invitation. His world had long been a member of the Republic, even back during the clone wars. Ivaldi had never much trucked with politics, always a senator but never really active in matter. Dalek Rolynd was in point of fact Prince Ivaldi, this was not something he touted. But it was what it was.

Security vids pivot on stems to follow the senator as he breaks from his retinue to proceed up the ramp. Crisp, ceremonial robes trailing over driftwood, roughly cobbled together. Certainly isn't built to resort standards. At least the hostess is punctual. The modified blast door barring acces into the beach dwelling snaps suddenly open without delay. Dalek's line of sight into the main living area of the home is mostly unobstructed from there. Aside from the awaiting form of Ambrosia Delgard, that is, decked out in...seashore 'finery'. Perhaps the busy mother's not had time to change. Or, maybe she's not cared to do so.

"Senator Rolynd," she intones with a courteous bow of her head and graceful gesture of arm for him to proceed in. "I must admit both flattery and surprise to the heralding of your visit. I pray your trip was soundly uneventful?"

Dalek gives a polite bow and does follow the gesture. "I was privy to a military briefing on Ord Mantell before being asked to come here." he gives the room a once over and stops once in. "It was enligtening and frightening at the same time, I am pleased to have caught up with you. A fortunate turn of event before I seek out Mr Dain." he settles his robes so they are straight. "Indeed, I found have found many things disturbing on many levels."

"Well, I'd dare say little about the current threat level is reassuring, so...yes." Ambrosia turns into the kitchen to the left of the door and resumes prepping their tea. "Pardon my inquiry, but the reason behind your detour here to see me was a bit vague. Mistake on part of secretarial staff, I'm sure. What is it you suspect me able to do, Senator, that might lighten your heart on the matter?" *Clang* goes the kettle as she bumps a mug past it while reaching for another with the same hand. Her other hand motions deeper into the heart of the domicile, to the dining table, couch, chairs...a number of seating options, should he choose to take advantage of one.

Dalek follows in deeper as gestured. "Well, the death of the senator is a topic of interest, the relation you as Ambassador has to the Inner Council is another." he moves to the dinning table. "There is concern on my part that most of the unrest here has roots in Imperial hands. There is a plethora of things on my mind, but lets concentrate of the first two?" the smile he gives is diplomatic, but the under current of deep concern cannot be hidden. "If Chandrilla falls, corellia will be made more remote from the New Republic, which in turn distances CEC from it."

"And as a more remote world, Ivaldi is distressed by such a notion? I can imagine that thought to be unsettling." Furrowing her own brow in empathy, Ambrosia removes the kettle from the heat after delivering another kick to the stove and pours two steamy mugfulls over the herbal packets centered in each. She delicately grips both in hand and snatches the honey with her other before emerging to join Dalek at table.

"According to Director Ewan Dain's statement, the drug cartel activity is only just that...of course the Empire /has/ proven itself capable of integrating its motives and funding into localized civil disputes before." She sets a mug of tea before him, then nestles the honey pot alongside the sugar, cream, etc there on table. Looks like he's got pick of it.

Dalek nods and takes the tea as is. "The Thel, from what I have seen in the news, plays the long game. With NRI absorbed in the wookie matter." he takes up the tea and blows on it before sipping. "Its not like they have time to look into it and as I recall Kessel is a spice mine. It does not take a genius to draw a line to such potential." his eyes settle on the woman. "And I am concerned that perhaps the senate is not as in the know as it should be?" the cup is set back down to be allowed to cool for a bit. "In my research since my arrival, I have been distressed by how disconnected the Senate is from the chief of state and thus the affairs of the New Republic."

Ambrosia remains standing, both hands placidly laced around the mug while she raises one incredulous brow to the Senator. "I believe more credit is due to the Intelligence division of our beloved Republic, Senator. They have many eyes, many ears, in many things. Fortunately, CorSec is endowed with its own functional intelligence branch, which I'm sure the Director can tell you much more about." She takes a tentative sip of the tea. It's hot!

"As is the way of things, the branches of our defense report to their appropriate councils which then trickle up to men and women of your stature. And, if I'm not mistaken, there's talk of a Senate Assembly to be held. Addressing Senator Hastell's abrupt 'departure' from office, with no doubt a forum to discuss updates on other current affairs."

Dalek raises a brow. "Or what is seen fit to share." he remarks in a casual manner. "I give due when results warrent it, I mean no disrespect. But it is a big galaxy and that is alot of planets and systems to watch." he turns the cup in an idle manner. "It is my sincere hope that my tour will result in a favorable experiance that I may take back with me to Ivaldi." he pauses a beat before going on. "But the mechanics seem dangerous to me, in terms of the inner council and the cheif of state."

As steam pours out of the refresher a tall Corellian man in the tiniest of pink towels steps from the room, still dripping from a good old fashioned Corellian wet shower. He tightens the towel around his waist and takes a few steps before calling out: "Nice shower! Did my clothes come out alright?" Ewan Dain takes sevral steps into the room before realizing his mistake. Not only is Ambrosia there but she has a guest. Dain instinctively grabs the towel at his waist and is momentarily at a loss for what to do next. "Oh, sorry. I'm uh." Dain is blushing furiously and looks for the quickest exit. This looks really bad.

"If your faith's been shaken in the chairpersons who serve on the inner council, concerning their adequate representation of the other eight councils, I do not believe I am an appropriate vessel by which to relay your concern. Alas I fear my influence does not reach so fa.....r"

Oh my. Ambrosia's throat bobs with a swallow of that final letter as she stares over the top of Senator Rolynd's head to her poor, poor tea towel. Just so happens to match her face now. QUICK, eyes! Find something else to stare at. Anything. "And...may I present to you, Director Dain. Senator. Please, pardon the...this." The tabletop gets a new inspection as she apologetically bows her head to her more appropriately dressed guest and sets her tea atop the table in favor of backstepping off to FIND Dain's pants. Or any pants. Dammit, she took Tiv's boxes of old clothes away for donation a few weeks ago. Dry or not, she's already sidestepping by the DIRECTOR while one hand tries to motion him back out of the spotlight while she rummages through the laundry closet.

Dalek turns a side long gaze at the new voice and doesnt miss a beat as he shifts his gaze back to his cup and continues on as if nothing is amiss. "That is precisely my concern ambassador...from what I have observed. The Chief of State cannot be corrected from any action they choose." he takes up his tea and sips. "The only oversight is from the inner council and since the inner council is chosen by the cheif of state?" his shoulders rise and fall, his royal upbringing is such that he would not not ever acknowledge the events unfolding before him. "You can see how this would be disturbing."

Dain allows himself to be directed to the room where his clothes are likely still damp but wearable. Without a word of interupption more he races in that direction, disappearing long enough to throw on a pair of dress pants and a collared shirt, which he buttons so quickly he offets the line up by a button. For the Corellian's part, he has other things on his mind. He straps on his chrono and shoves his hair back away from his forehead with a modicum of neatness.

He tightens his belt and steps from the room barefoot. The cool floor reminding him that his feet have no cover. He doesn't know where his socks are and he doesn't take the time to search. He has to go back out there as if nothing happened. Dain strolls out of the room with an affected non chalance. "Much better. Thanks for helping me out, Ambassador." Dain turns dark blue eyes on the man he'd not yet met and the Corellian smiles. "Sorry, I'm Ewan Dain. I was here on business. I was outside on business, I mean. You guys talking politics?"

Ambrosia Delgard: mother of two and master of socks. She's only unearthed one suitably sized to belong to Ewan, though, and doesn't fuss with hunting for its mate quite yet. The thing gets draped over the door of the dryer left ajar and, after recomposing /herself/, she strolls back into the living room. "The Ruling Council is appointed with the power to both deny a candidate's rise to President, or vote among themselves to dismiss any President's term. The purpose of the council is to prevent another unobstructed rise to absolute power, as what led to this Civil War. It's true, any system put into place would not be without inherent vices, if one were determined enough to soil the system, but again, Senator...as much as I have enjoyed your company and wish your stay as enjoyable as could be managed under the presently sad circumstances, I am not certain what it is you ask from me?"

Whatever it is, it certainly isn't to seek her service as laundry maid. The Ambassador narrows her eyes slightly, addressing Dain in silent stare as he re enters the scene. One corner of her lip turns up, spying the misaligned buttons and it's all she can do to resist the urge to march over there and fix it.

Dalek flickers a hand over his cup and glances up at her. "Your view for the most part." he then shifts gaze to Dain. "Director of Corsec, I actually came here to see you." a casual nod to Ambrosia. "Her presence was a gift and politics yes and no. But as I told her, I was privy to a military briefing and was asked to come here and look into the cartel war going on." now that the man was more suitable dressed. "I suspect that the Empire may make a move on Corellia in some manner."

Talk of Corellia's fate always interests Dain and as Ambrosia mentions the man's title Dain continues to flush. Of course, a senator. "Oh you must be the fellow I've been hearing so much about. Dalek. Very glad to meet you." Dain nods at the mention of the cartel war. Few on the planet are as close to it as the CorSec Director. The last month or so has been a complete nightmare and now that a Senator is involved it was surely getting worse.

It's true the violence in the streets was certainly on a rise but CorSec is doing ok, with what they have. It's the bastard Mayor who wont offer more funds to combat the cartels of Coronet. Dain frowns at the thought of the man. "I was hoping we'd meet under more, normal circumstances but it has hastened our meeting, and for that I'm thankul." Dain offers the man an honest smile and turns to Ambrosia. He notices the death glare and catches her eyes glancing at his chest. His buttons are all wrong. Now he can tell. Though the man continues to smile, there is a crack in his facade as he does his best to fix his shirt drawing as little attention to it as possible.

The hostess of tonight's intriguing party takes a long swallow or three of her tea, listening through the comforting heat of steam against her closed lids. A moment of peace, now that Dain's seeing to those buttons. One less thing to obsess over. There're plenty more though. Drugs, Wookiees....A beep sounds from the little chronometer on her wrist and she blinks herself alert to silence the notification. It's time. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid I'm due to join my family. Taking into consideration Mr. Dain's ...sidetracked evening..." a pointed look past him, down the hall, to the sock hung limply from the door. Just one. "I'd like to offer my home as continued conference space for your use this evening until all his affairs are in order and able to resume in office. My security team will remain posted for your benefit in my absence."

Dalek bobs his head in appreciation. "That is most kind of you M'lady, fair travel to you and yours." the smile is genuine and he gestures to the seat across from him, meaning Dain of course. "I think we have some matter to get on the table and I sincerly feel that time is of concern here. So why dont you give me the inside view of things here?"

As professional as he's going to get Dain seems less that pleased that the Ambassador would no longer grace them with her presence but Dain understood that her family means a lot to the woman. "Thanks for letting me use the shower, Ambassador." Dain offers his own goodbye to the woman and offers her a nearly imperceptable wink before sitting down at the table. "I was planning on having this discussion at the office but," Dain had also arranged for a gift for the Senator as a welcome to the planet but that was out of the window for now. "I'll give you the short of it. Someone is moving a lot of spice into Corellia and it's spice like CorSec has never seen. Highly addictive, very pure, almost pharmaceutical grade in appearance and effect. Due to that crime is not only on the rise but at least two cartels are now at war over it. One, we believe to be an Eisley faction and another, here on Corellia."

Dain shakes his head at the thought of how the city was steadily declining into violence and addiction. "It is prevalent mostly in Coronet. Last week there was a warehouse bombing, I'm sure you've heard about it. That one we suspect was a fight between the Eisley faction and someone home grown. CorSec has its suspicions about who it might be but it is still classified. And for good reason. Then there's the recent suicide, if you believe thar, of the Chandrilian. It all adds up to something far more sinister than anything I have personally faced before."

Dalek traces the edge of the tea cup. "I dont belive for a moment the senator commited suicide and and I personally feel the Empire is involved somehow." he comments with a bit of acid on his tongue. "With the Empire making a rather loud stage in what looks like a move on Chandrilla and then the death of the Chandrilla Senator. It all seems staged." he seems not entire happy with the chosen word. "I think there is more then one target connected with Chandrilla...it being the most lighted one." the finger continues to trace the rim of the cup. "And if your being blocked by the mayor, then fingers may go deeper than I had hoped." a beat or two in thought. "I hope I am wrong, but I think the Empire may stage a move on corellia while the Republic realigns assets to protect Chandrilla."