Even as the receptionist was taking down their ID information, a door opened to the side of the reception desk and another Venasian female gracefully stepped through. Like the receptionist, this Venasian had that odd, timeless appearance. She looked like she could be anywhere from 20 to a thousand years old. The Venasian diplomatic uniform - robes of Venasian silk - was unchanged. "If you'll follow me," she invited.
"That would be very acceptable," replied Dais. He had not been expecting a meeting so quickly. He had thought the Venasians would push off the meeting as much as was feasable.
Once through the doors, they came to a security area. Two security guards flanked the doors, one monitored the traffic through the area, and two kept watch from an observation window above. Their guide held out a security box. "I must ask that you relinquish your sidearms throughout your visit with us."
(response)
"May we proceed with the security scan? It ensures no explosives, weapons, or toxic chemicals are brought into the Annex."
(response)
<Assuming yes...> Once through, the guide led them to a Venasian tea room. "Secretary V'nquera will be with you in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable. I will have refreshment brought to you."
(response)
Even as the woman left, her robes whispering softly behind her, another Venasian appeared- this time a man, with that same strange agelessness, bearing a tray. On it was a jug of something that looked like lemonade and some glasses, as well as some Pacifican fruits and cheeses. "A popular Pacifican drink," he explained as he set the tray down, "It is made from one of their native citruses. I understand humans enjoy it."
-S
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