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“Ah, Felix Deikun, at last. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, I’m glad you chose to honor us with your presence tonight.” The slick haired ambassador greets you, extending a hand toward you. He has a weaker grip than you’re used to, and something about his touch causes your skin to crawl, an odd chill running up your arm; even still, you force a smile and play the part of a charming figurehead.
“Ambassador Kreek, it’s a pleasure.” You lie, locking eyes with the thin faced man and flashing a fake smile to match his own - everyone here is just putting on a show, a glitzy party for the elite of two nations drifting rapidly apart. The existence of an ambassador <span class="mu-i">at all</span> is an acknowledgement of that.
Originally meant to appease the independence factions of the Sides, the Federations decision to appoint ambassadors to what are technically just autonomous regions has proven a political disaster for them, only spurring on further dreams of independence. These days Kreek truly <span class="mu-i">is</span> an ambassador, the position transformed from a joke by Zeon’s steady march to freedom. Zeon is the sole master of its territory in many regards now, and only the most draconian and non-negotiable of the Federations controls still exist in most sectors; heavy taxation, a few harsh trade controls that favor the companies of Earth and Luna, and lingering but vital control over aspects of the military and police - And of course the ‘garrison’ forces, a gun to the head of anyone speaking openly for independence. The fear of stricter control being reinstated is ever present.
“And who is this lovely young lady with you?” Kreek asks, his gaze shifting over to Elena, a crooked smile spreading across his gaunt features, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Elena.” She introduces herself simply, putting on a smile even more fake than your own; to any but the most discerning eye it would appear quite genuine, but you know her too well to ever believe that.
“You two are?...” Kreek leaves the question hanging, that crooked smile of his lingering on.
