The large slowly rotating circles known as [i]The Eight Rings[/i] were quite a sight to behold. The massive constructs stood as an impressive example of the empires engineering prowess, a proud achievement, and a testament to the ingenuity of the human race. Emanuel, unfortunately, could only appreciate their marvel from a holo-screen. The final preparations had finally concluded as the [i]Zircon[/i], the name of his frigate, docked with one of the central towers of [i]Eight Rings[/i]. Emanuel allowed himself one last look at the projected image of the station before nodding to his subordinate and turning to leave the command bridge. It did not take long for him and his trusted bodyguard Saerus, to arrive at the umbilical transfer bay of the [i]Zircon[/i], the lift doors opening to reveal the ships starboard umbilical chamber. There standing in wait outside the airlock doors was a mixed group of household guards and a single squad of wardens. Emanuel frowned upon seeing the Exalted soldiers his brother had 'lent' him, but with a sigh, he exited the lift entering the long hall. He stopped short of the group standing in wait for him as they saluted with bowed heads. Emanuel took this moment to turn his attention to what appeared to be the leader of the group of wardens. "Knight-Corporal Balian was it? I do not recall requesting your presence," Emanuel kept his voice neutral, though his eyes seemed to bore into the man. "No mi'lord, however, his liege lord Temijen made it clear that we-," Balian explanation was suddenly stopped short by the raised hand of Emanuel. "If I needed your presence I would have called for it, I thank you for your concern but I trust you, and your comrades will not be needed once we're aboard the station." Balian opened his mouth as if to protest, paused a moment then added, "with all due respect mi'lord, his liege made it quite clear his wishes." "He also appointed me to oversee this directly and to proceed as I see fit. Your detachment will remain aboard the ship until further advised. I'm I clear?" The order voiced in every way as a clear command and not an actual question. The man bowed deeply, "of course, as you wish, lord." Balian turned to the wardens flanking him and gave a quick gesturing command before they turned to leave. Saerus who had been quiet until now watched the exalted wardens go, voicing when they were out of earshot, "having a few more bodies with us can't hurt lord." "That may be true. However, I dislike the message it would send. Such proceedings need a gentle hand and the further we can distance ourselves from apart of the Order the better," Emanuel explained. "It is the very reason my brother chose me for this task after all. The Order itself is not officially sanctioned the class of ships we're here to collect after all." The large man only shrugged, "I leave such politicking to those better suited to it lord. I am only concerned with your safety... I trust you saw all those I.B vessels docked in the other rings?" "I did, and I am not concerned, besides why do you think I have you around?" Saerus [i]hmmed[/i] in his throat as his only answer, his face hard and unreadable as solid granite. His one bionic eye flared slightly, the red of its lens gleaming a deep crimson. Saerus was an EX-imperial soldier, a sergeant at one point in fact from a division within the imperial armies special forces. He was a twelve year veteran of the Exodus Nebula Expansions on the empires fringe systems. The man spoke very little of those days of course, but as Emanuel had been able to gather from that conflict, it would appear Saerus had been apart of a Blackwatch unit tasked with espionage and unconventional warfare. The hulking man was everything one would want in a bodyguard, or what the noble elite liked to call a praetorian. It was the place of a praetorian to die or fight in their master's steed. Emanuel was unlike most nobles in that both he and Saerus had formed something of a workable relationship that was closer than simple servant and master. It was not quite a friendship, but it was far from the usual indifference, for Emanuel had long relied on the older man for advice and tactical input now and again. The fellow just had an insight into things most did not possess, a sixth sense for danger hard earned by a life of violence. Emanuel quickly ordered the token guard he did allow to exit with him through the transfer chamber. Aside from himself and Saerus, Emanuel had opted for only three escorts and an attendant. Most nobles never went anywhere without some protection or guard. Emanuel was no exception, but often he preferred as few retainers as possible whenever he was out on business. He'd always appreciated the fact he was the youngest of his brothers, therefore the least if importance, as was oft the cause of the youngest son of any noble house. There was the heir, the spare, and then there was Emanuel. He had never felt bitter about such things, however, for he always had preferred to make his way on his own. Had he been the first or second eldest he'd have never earned the amount of freedom for his pursuits as he enjoyed now. After a short delay, the duel doors rumbled open into the airlocked transfer chamber. After those closed behind the group, the secondary doors hissed open, leading into the umbilical plank. Emanuel and entourage continued through to the end of the plankway that led to the stations own airlock that seemed to be reinforced by some form of shielding technology. The progress of moving through so many checkpoints, doors, and airlocks allowed Emanuel's mind to wander towards the meeting to soon take place. This would be the first time he'd have met this Maximus in person and Emanuel was curious what kind of man he was. Once past the airlocks and on the station proper Emanuel was greeted by a single aged man in an old, but unquestionably expensive, suit. The venerable servant bowed and attended to all the customary greetings before instructing Emanuel and his group to follow him to the elevator and down to a proper landing bay. The bay itself was cavernous and filled to the brim with yachts, short-run cargo ships, and Trust skiffs. It was to a particularly ornate example of the latter that the servant led Emanuel's retinue, and there before it stood a thickly built man with a short trimmed beard in a white and orange suit that while garish was unquestionable of fine make. Maximus would have agreed with most peoples first opinion of the garb, it was showy, hard on the eyes, and altogether unfashionable. It was also in the family colors and something that instantly identified who he was to anyone worth the slightest fraction of his time. Maximus waved off a servant he'd been speaking to and the old man who'd guided Emanuel's group faded into the background as one of the Trusts most senior members greeted Emanuel with a proffered hand, “Emanuel Blackwall, and just in time. I trust the journey here was as quick as it was safe? You never know in these troubled times.” Emanuel effected an easy smile as he inclined his head toward the man ever so slightly, "a thankfully uneventful journey, though one worth the trip to see the famed space-borne cities of the Akamar," he began simultaneously acknowledging the man's concerns while skillfully shifting away from the topic of the shattered state of the empire. "Maximus Ben Seft I presume? I hope you did not have to wait overly long." “Not at all, in fact you’re just in time.” Maximus grinned openly and gestured towards the sleek white skiff behind him, “I was just ensuring everything was ready to go. If you and your party would follow me aboard we can head to the secure shipyard right away, the vessels you ordered are just going through their final checks and getting a little polish here and there. I think you and your organization will be most pleased with them. After all, the Trust hasn’t forgotten what it takes to build something special, a city we stand on and those others you spoke of are but one example of that.” "Most excellent," Emanuel voiced. "I have heard much of the shipbuilding prowess of the Trustee, and indeed your deep space stations alone are impressive, I look forward to seeing the crafts built by your engineers firsthand. This could very well be the beginning of a long-trusted partnership between Aurora and the Sefts. Please lead the way." Maximus led the party up the ramp and into the skiff. After clearing the air locked entryway they emerged into what could best be described as a poor man's yacht. Large windows, visibly more than a foot thick, lined the sides of the passenger compartment, and the passenger seats were arranged around a large wooden table brimming with beverages and exotic snacks from across the empire. Takeoff was unremarkable, in fact, it was so unremarkable as to suggest a great deal of money and time had gone into the vessels inertial sumps. Not a single glass dripped as the skiff departed the hanger and accelerated towards the distant shipyards. Maximus shared stories all the way, grinning and laughing like he was spending time with friends that'd been away too long and he dearly missed. Though he easily adopted the demeanor of an easygoing man he clearly paid close attention to how much he ate or drank and even closer attention to anything Emanuel said. Scarcely thirty minutes into the trip Maximus quieted notably and pointed out a distant collection of lights that grew brighter by the minute. When the hazy silhouettes of two ships ensconced in a framework of habitation modules and scaffolds became clear he spoke with deference, “There they are. Right on time, and I assure you not one weld was placed without the greatest care. Others, House Gallus or Astra Corp, for example, they don't quite understand what goes into a ship. A sloppy weld here, a loose bolt there, for them these things are just realities of construction, but out here we don't have the affections of the planet born. Every engineer working on those ships understands the importance of perfection out here, that loose bolt could fail and take a whole section with it in battle, that sloppy weld could give out during maintenance and space the technical crew. Growing up without the security of a world instills a greater understanding of what it takes to survive out here. We didn't evolve in space, Emanuel.” As the ships became clear and the lights of their designated docking station began to flash Maximus leaned back and picked up a fluted glass and its odd green contents, “Fly those ships through a corona, punch a hole through their side, and they'll still come back. So, a toast to the completion of two vessels that will serve you better than any of them. Perhaps even to a partnership greater than this one.” Emanuel observed the ships with an expression that revealed he was indeed impressed by what he saw. "The craftsmanship of your house speaks for itself good Maximus, I see that the reputation of House Seft is one well deserved." Emanual thoughtfully took one of the glasses poured for him and swirled its contents with a soft smile, "I see indeed Lord Temijen was right to come to the Sefts for this task." He sampled the wine and nodded his approval at the choice of drink. Belquin was a rare and tasteful brand of spirit that fit well for such an occasion, "I look forward to seeing how these crafts handle, but it is fortuitous that you speak of partnership. Indeed, House Blackwall has given much thought to this very matter. There is much we can both offer each other I think. In such...worrying times an ally- nay- a friend is a worthwhile thing to seek out. Would you not agree?" As it happens, I very much do, and in that, I echo the Trustee.” Maximus smiled warmly and took a sip of his drink just as a small shudder went through the skiff as it docked at the station. “These ships, formidable as they may be, are just two vessels after all. The Trust is more than willing to come to an arrangement concerning a more… Invested relationship with House Blackwall. Of course, if we’re to be more than allies we need to look out for each other do we not? My house and this system has much to offer any friend of ours, but while we may be strong in some places we are weak in others; for all the ships we craft there are few that remain here. Such has not been necessary in the past.” Emanual nodded, "it seems to me the Blackwall line has been remiss in not establishing relations with your esteemed house sooner, good Maximus. I think it is long overdue for such a thing to be ratified." He set his glass down and leaned back in his seat steepling his fingers. His eyes thoughtful as he continued, "as you well know- Praag is rich in many minerals perfect for the production of high-grade steel and even adamantine silver. While House Seft have long proven to be expert craftsmen. It will take some time to get the measure of these vessels, but once that is out of the way I predict further bridges built between our two houses-- such as exclusive trade deals for House Seft in those very resources? In return, all my Lord would ask is the privileged rights to construction queues for Order vessels. House Blackwall will also be willing to extend its support and of course protection... if your house agrees. However, such things need not be decided upon as of yet. I am sure you will want to deliberate with the rest of your kin first." Maximus nodded and downed the rest of his drink, “Of course, but I have little doubt the Trustee will be amenable to your proposal. The world isn’t what it was after all. None who matter will fault us for taking special care of our friends, new or old.” He stood up and straightened out his rather absurd suit before continuing, “Now then, we have your lord’s newest battleships to inspect. It won’t do to be tardy!”