And in a grand cavalcade, with much fanfare, the crown prince of the Starka royal family arrived at the flagship of the 13th fleet of the Democratic Alliance of Sapient Species, to serve a time fostering cultural understanding and friendly relations.

He looked like he was carved out of stone, and stood taller than anyone William had ever met; the sharp cut of his face was hopelessly severe, his expression cold. He looked down on William with nothing but stiff propriety in his eyes.

"I am Lyena-Nova," he said, flicking one of his cattish ears with apparent apathy. "I'm honored to be welcomed as your guest here."

He didn't really sound as if that was so, and stood further away than really necessary.

The sheer intensity of his gaze was chilling; it far exceeded what he had experienced during military school, perhaps even the war.

"Your name?"

He realized he had been caught up in it, and hurriedly offered his hand for the Lyena to shake.

"Commodore General William Masterson," he said. "We're honored to have you, as well."

He caught, in the corner of his eye, the sight of a cadet stifling laughter. There was nothing he could do about that; despite his position, it was known on the ship that he was clumsy and ineffectual when it came to conversation.

Nova looked down at his hand for a moment, as though unsure why he had offered it, and then took it-- far more gently than William thought he would. He spoke.

"It is my hope that we can build a more positive relationship between the DASS and Imperial Storam together," he said, voice still as cold as ever.

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