Zin01
Sat on the other side of a metallic table with a reflective sheen alike a mirror atop within a relatively simple room whose walls are obscured by banners and other works of tapestry, is a man with a stack of papers and a pencil that awaited patiently, and motioned the representatives to take a seat. The man spoke then with a calm voice:
"Yes yes. Welcome, I see that you are new to the galactical sciene, it must be quite frightening, the scope of it all, right? But I digress.
The Embassy is here to... unite. We seek to centralize the process of politics, rescue it from the darkened pit of omissions, subtexts and meta-meanings that it finds itself in, and bring every nation together in our concrete planet, both for the thrills and union of commerce and for the clockwork of politics.
With these papers, and I do ask you to take a look, you are to be included within these processes, we will make sure no voice is left unheard."
Dumb
"Very well then."
The man adjusts himself within his seat, and then returns to speak.
"It is a rather interesting assumption, however, and do allow me to shoot off in a very important tangent, that both you and the Redford thought that The Embassy or The Ambassador were affiliated with the Deltas. Why would that be? No other nation brought light to such notion, and if it were true, then wouldn't he be the only remainders of such prominent galactical characters?"
The man inclines fowards, and places his hand on the suitcase, then motioned his hands backwards again, and into an apex in front of himself around the height of his chest.
"Furthermore, I don't doubt that you must have come prepared for a certain measure of combat, after all, you did impart in presumptions of us affiliating with parties inclined to terrorism. Do excuse my questioning, after all, more threatening than all these fleets some nations can conjure are beings like you."
