They disembarked the spacecraft in a pre-arranged formation of Solae's choosing as once again they deferred to her expertise and judgment. By no means did this mean the duchess relished in the way leadership had passively been thrust upon her shoulders, but in this instance, as a delegation to a foreign race whom they were approaching in peace, it was a responsibility she gladly assumed. This was more the pinnacle of her dreams than being granted an elevated title. The former marquise and her escort walked in the front. Rene balked slightly, not wanting to steal any of the limelight from the dignitary herself, but she was insistent. Socially she was his superior in the Stellar Empire, but she wanted her partner beside her, to set a precedent for his involvement in her life as her equal in all things, regardless of courtly protocol. Rosaria, as handmaiden, walked directly behind the couple, flanked by the towering Syshin guards in their finery. Though it was not discussed aloud, the adults all realized this kept the teenager protected in the unlikely event things became hostile, as she had no battle experience to reply upon and keep her safe otherwise.

The landing pad was not a composite like anything they had seen before. By the time the thrusters had been cut and the hatch opened, the glittering deep green stone was only mildly warm to the touch. At first blush one might erroneously assume the hue was completely a convenient byproduct of the materials. The aerial view, however, proved that the specific verdant shade blended into the vegetation in the near vicinity, making the slab both stand out enough to be functionally sound, but be sufficiently innocuous on the ground level to not be an eyesore among the landscaping. This visual harmony was not a coincidence; it made Solae speculate that there were variations of this landing pad in a myriad of colors.

Before they had touched down the diplomat had briefly wondered if the Kalderi had suffered any sort of cataclysmic event, like the one humanity had suffered so long ago, one that could have possibly returned them to a prior technological age. Each successive step forward she became more certain that, even if they had, their advancements had been regained. The residence in front of them was a veritable piece of art, the stone curving, twisting, and stretching upwards as it had been carved from a single slab by a sculptor. There were no joints or seams in sight. The elevated walkways were impossibly smooth arches whose beauty made it easy to forget how precarious they would be to walk without handrails.

The mystery of why there were so few boats and why the architecture rose to such heights was dispelled as they reached the portico. In space Kalderi armor kept their wings covered out of pragmatic necessity, but here on land there was no such need, and the limbs were exposed and neatly folded behind them. Similarly, their host or hostess (it was difficult to discern a gender) had robes designed to accommodate wings as well as their full range of movement, enabling flight so long as the clothing was not too heavy. Solae hid the surprise on her face but discreetly kept glancing towards the leathery appendages. They were dark in color, two of them a saturated purple edging on black, one a deep brown, and the last glimmering a faint blue when struck by errant rays of sunshine.

Ancient mythos, when religion was revered on the home planets of human civilization, spoke of demonic creatures with leathery wings. It was impossible not to draw a parallel. Kalderi faces were drastically different, especially their mouths, but there were not dissimilar to the more bestial renditions of lore. Perhaps these had not been creatures of idle imaginations. Millennia ago Kalderi could have theoretically visited Earth, the birthplace of their species, and incited a legend. More often than not a tale was inspired by fact. Human recreations, since memory was fallible, could account for the stark differences between fiction and reality, or the Kalderi could have evolved from their first years of traveling the stars. Neanderthals and the genetically engineered aristocrats of today were far from identical.

"Duchess Solae Falia, Lieutenant Colonel Rene Quentain, Handmaiden Rosaria, Guard Darue, and Guard Yasin," the robed Kalderi greeted with careful, precise enunciation, "I welcome you. The language of my people is not entirely within the range of human hearing, and you are not physically able to replicate its sounds, so you will call me Lithyll while you are here." It was an unusual introduction, but purposeful, as the disclosure would prevent misunderstandings once they were led inside. If they had heard Lithyll called another name, or heard half-conversations in their presence, they would not be as suspicious it was malice or malevolent secrecy that kept the communication outside their understanding.

"It is an honor, truly," Solae returned the greeting with a reverent curtsy. "By permitting us to land you have already brought me a great amount of personal joy," she proclaimed with a radiant smile. Interactions between imperial nobility was a lesson in restraint; suppressing emotions, forcing calm composure, withholding grins and frowns, even controlling the cadence of laughter to politely suit the situation. Here, however, Solae's honest and earnest desire to simply be around the Kalderi so that she might hear of their culture was her greatest asset. Restraint could have made her seem coldly apathetic, which would be insincere and make them question her true aim.

"Personal joy?" Lithyll repeated, his or her head twitching slightly to the side.

"I am curious about all the people of the universe," Solae explained, her enthusiasm freely seeping into her words, "about their traditions, their beliefs, their customs, their lifestyles, their folklore. I know that the failings of our ancestors have given you every reason to forbid my fellow humans from entering your homes, and so I hoped for this moment but did not dare to presume my wishes would be granted. To see you and speak you alone fills me with happiness," she added with a bow of her head in respect.

"You are an unusual human, Duchess Solae Falia," Lithyll observed, but the lilt of their voice suggested it was a compliment rather than a criticism. "We have much to discuss," he/she said, turning towards the doors and motioning for the intrepid troupe to follow.