A State Visit

[The Republic Of Liberty]

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The blacked-out procession of vehicles cruised quickly along the road to the estate, kicking up a small cloud of dust in their wake. High above, a detachment of Avengers from both the Navy's Gold Squadron, as well as the Security Force Intrusion Wing "Jackknife" flew top cover, ever on the lookout for danger. The ships fanned out and flew low as the presidential cavalcade passed the estate gates, waggling their wings from side to side to afford the pilots a better view of the ground, and any waiting ambush. On cue, three of the Navy craft broke formation and turned back towards the caravan just as it ground to a halt, Ageira-produced engine additives beginning to pump into the exhaust gases. The Avengers turned from silvery glints in the sky to streaks of red, white, and blue, marking the arrival of the President of the Republic of Liberty.

The last two vehicles in the chain were emptied long before the coated man opened the doors, a dozen uniformed Security Force agents stepping out to survey the scene, chattering away on their earpieces. M7/C caseless subguns hung at the sides of all but two, and those two quickly armed themselves with S99 Special Applications Rifles, slinging the heavy weapons over their backs. The remainder of the vehicles contained government aides and the President's personal security detail, armed far less heavily (at least visibly) than the Security Force escorts.

Finally, President Powell stepped from his vehicle, safe in the knowledge that the perimeter was guarded by the finest soldiers and pilots the Republic had to offer. Buttoning his suit jacket, the President stretched his legs slightly and looked about the fabulously-maintained estate, before turning to the Secretary.

"My security detail has already been briefed on the situation. I do not believe the inconvenience of such coordination will be necessary. As for special requests of the chef, I have none, however I would be very grateful if the local tobacconist could provide a cigar following the meal." Dove-white teeth gleamed in the sunlight as the President cracked a smile, taking the woman's hand and shaking it in typical Libertonian fashion. The gesture lasted perhaps a moment too long, though among other houses the citizens of the Republic were always known for their enthusiastic and often uncomfortably-firm handshakes. Once the moment had passed, the President turned and strolled towards one of his aides, quietly holding a conversation as the Secretary briefed the less diplomatically-inclined Admirals of the fleets.

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