Metropolis City, capital of the Charybdian Confederation
Rada Maric was a small woman, even by Terran standards, she barely even reached John Rodre’s shoulders as she entered the room behind him. Compared to the Gardenites in the room? The intelligence chief, a white haired woman in a dark black jacket, practically had to look down upon her like a parent would. Despite her stature however, Secretary General Rada Maric was perhaps the largest in the room as she entered. Even the Exogarden attaches stopped in a moment of recognition.
The Secretary General had spent the better part of twenty years turning the loosely colonized worlds of the Shore Planets into a confederation that emulated the blocs found across the Veil. From backwater stations and colonies, the Shore Planets had followed a growth similar to their brethren of the Terran Federation, and had rested control from the Apparatus’ colonial authorities in the time since.
If the Exogarden were disappointed at this however, they refused to show it at all. They had learned to tread lightly around the Secretary General - or rather, learned their place in her duties of state.
“Madam Secretary, Mister President.” The white haired woman began, standing beside a bank of holoprojectors that would be providing the connection to the Junior Officers of the Exogarden, a cadre of eight junior officers scattered all across the Local Region.
Rada Maric, despite her frigid exterior, was a charming woman. She had met this illusive intelligence chief before, at a gala one evening celebrating a Terran official’s retirement from the Exogarden. While she had never served in the military, she had always worked in the organs of the state, something that the Exogarden appreciated. While men like Rodre were concerned of the Exogarden’s lack of accountability, Rada Maric recognized it as a necessary control - without the support and backing of the civilian governments, the Exogarden had as much authority in these chambers as say the Federate itself did all the way back in New Empyrea.
That was to say, slim to none.
“Miss Counterbalance, it is a pleasure to see you again. Pray tell me, perhaps, that a meeting as important as this may require greetings on a first name basis?” Rada said with a forced smile, meeting the grey-eyed woman who only returned a soft lipped grin back to her.
“My apologies ma’am, but there’s a clearance even above this.” She replied with a soft nod, thought quickly offered a hand to pull her out a seat besides Rodre. Rada gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head abruptly while she seated herself and then draped a hand onto Rodre’s shoulder.
“Oh, do not say that - you will scare poor Johnne. I swear, to hear him speak of the Exogarden, you are waiting in every dark closet with a microphone. I can not tell whether I'm on the phone with a Terran, or an Aschen.” She teased playfully, though Rodre’s genuine concern seemed to draw him embarrassment finally. “Where was that young man with you last time though, the loud one with a taste for Terran vodka?”
“Oh, this is very much not his department. He is, happily, employed in the … acquisition side of the organization.” The woman explained cryptically, and anyone would notice her and Rada appeared to have a very fruitful competition of cat and mouse: Rada using her wit and charm to glean all she could, and her keeping that intelligence tradecraft sharp.
If this were the Garden, Rada would be an artifex by now - or dead, from asking too many questions.
“Quite a shame - he kept Arjun quite entertained, it’s not often he finds someone do indulge in xenoarchaelogy with.” Rada provided, taking her hand from Johnne after giving him an encouraging squeeze on his shoulder. The President of the Terran Federation draped two hands over the table before him then, reaching for a small decanter of scotch.
“That one talked rather eloquently for a dirt-chewer - well, until the fifth or sixth glass at least.” Johnne replied bluntly, drawing some of the golden liquor into his own glass. Apparently only Rada caught the irony.
“Rich Johnne, considering the full bar in your office.” Rada said calmly, and rather than reach for the bottle, she requisitioned herself a tablet from a stack of the devices placed on the table for use. “I wish our conversation were under better circumstances, I would rather we share a drink as friends than coworkers for once … “