“Well the didn’t shoot us,” Rene said positively. Rosaria arched an eyebrow at him, considerable concern on her face.

“That was a possibility,” she asked glancing back and forth between Rene and Solae as if to spot the jest. Rene chuckled.

“When you are doing something no one has ever done, almost anything is a possibility,” he admitted. Solae smiled tightly, though she appreciated the humor the situation had to be beyond stressful for her.

“Alright, well we can’t do much about the Bonaventure looking like a clapped out tramp, but lets get into our visiting clothes,” Rene instructed. Over the past several days they had decided that their best option was to make their first contact as formal as they could. The Rosette that Solae carried was a perfectly valid diplomatic credential, one that even the Kalderi should respect, but like many such tokens, the real trick was reaching someone in sufficient authority to appreciate it. 

Rosaria went with Solae, ostensibly to help her dress, though that was part of a handmaiden’s duties Rene suspected that Solae would be doing most of the assisting in this case. There was a limited amount of time to train and like anything the duties of a handmaiden took years to master, and the very best never stopped improving. There was as much art to helping dress an aristocrat as there was to poisoning an opponent, and you were much less likely to be embarrassed in the second case.  For his own part Rene dressed in the formal uniform that Ten had provided for him. He couldn’t imagine where the crimelord had sourced the garment but it seemed regulation perfect. A dress jacket of matte black with metallic piping had been neatly tailored to fit him. It bore no decorations or campaign ribbons but it had the dagger crossing Capella insignia of the infantry to either side of his collar in silver enamel. The eppalets bore the five pointed stars of a colonel, backed with black agate to denote his lieutenant-colonel rank, they were replaced with a silver plate if he were ever promoted to full colonelcy. Although he had no decorations to claim, although he supposed he could technically claim a bleeding heart for being wounded, and there would eventually be a New Concordia ribbon, Ten had provided him with one piece of decoration. It was customary for officers of noble backgrounds to wear the sigil of their house at formal occasions. Although the military was in theory no political scions of the nobility took pride in their heritage, and it had the practical effect of signalling to others any possible political entanglements that might best be avoided. Rene opened his hand to look at the badge Ten had provided. It was a stylized golden eagle backed by the ringed planet of Capella in white gold. The traditional crest of the Du Quentain family. Wearing it was certainly questionably and potentially illegal as despite the Empress’ promotion he didn’t have a legal claim to the name anymore. Rene pinned the emblem to his right collar flash, he supposed the Empress or his father could have him shot at some future point if they disagreed. Once he and Solae were officially married, the crest would be quartered against the Falia crest. Rene momentarily wished that were already the case, but there was enough that was unorthodox about his relationship with Solae already. She deserved to do that part of things properly at least. The remainder of the uniform was a white set of dress trousers with a crimson stripe down the side seams bloused over boots of polished black leather. He was entitled to wear a sword sash of crimson as well, but after discussions with Solae he had decided to forgo it. Lord Armond’s sword would have been appropriate in Imperial society, but culturally they didn’t know what the Kalderi would make of it, and the presence of such a weapon might undermine the claim that they had no interest in Kalderi armaments. He did wear a sidearm in a holster of black leather on his left side but in keeping with diplomatic tradition it had been bound closed with an elaborate knot of gold thread, meant to symbolize that though the bearer had a right to bear arms, they came in peace. Rene didn’t think the knot would stop him from drawing the weapon in a pinch, but, as with everything, appearance was more important than reality. 

With his uniform in place Rene headed from the back of the ship towards the hold, careful to avoid brushing anything that would dirty the pristine white trousers. He raked his hands through his short hair, wishing he had time to cut it though it probably made him look more decorative than a buzz cut would have done. He glanced at his tablet as he entered the hold, making sure that the projected rendezvous was still fifteen minutes away, giving him time to help the Syshin with their livery in the event they had any difficulty.