Ministry of Interstellar Relations, Foundation City, Terranova Planet
Giovanni Pecora stood up as the perennially sour-faced Hammer ambassador was shown into the small meeting room that adjoined his office.
Ambassador Yoon was well-known for his view that the Federated Worlds were nothing more than a filthy degenerate cesspit of heretics. From the day he had stepped unwillingly onto Fed soil, he had made little attempt to conceal that opinion from his unwilling hosts, an attitude that accounted for the open contempt in which he was held.
“Sit down, Ambassador.” Pecora kept his voice as courteous as he could, even though in all his years of public service he had yet to deal with anyone as unappealing as the squat gray-haired man sitting in front of him. The only reward for his courtesy was a grunt as Yoon planted himself in the armchair on the other side of the small coffee table, with the registered observer seating herself unobtrusively to one side. Fuck you, then, Ambassador, Pecora thought, canceling his commed order for coffee.
There was a moment’s silence. Pecora had seen more than enough of Yoon during the Delphic affair, though he had enjoyed Yoon’s obvious befuddlement over the ruse. Yoon sat in silence, obviously wondering what the Fed heretics were up to now.
Pecora had no intention of keeping him waiting. “Thank you for coming, Ambassador.”
Yoon’s face actually managed to turn even more sour.
“The matter we wish to discuss is very serious, so perhaps the best thing I can do is to hand you”-Pecora paused to pick up a heavy bound document from the small table beside his chair-“this document. I think it will tell you everything you need to know. It makes our position quite clear.” Even to ill-mannered, superstitious primitives like you, Pecora thought as he settled back.
Yoon half grabbed the document from Pecora’s outstretched hand. He rolled his eyes at the heft of the bundle. It was much too thick to be the usual complaint about some Fed commercial spacer being handled roughly by DocSec. Yoon sat back in his chair and started to read.
From under hooded eyes, Pecora greatly enjoyed watching the blood drain from Yoon’s face as the implications of the diplomatic note and its declaration of limited military action sank into his shocked and disbelieving mind.
At last, Yoon finished reading. He looked up, mouth working but unable to get the words out. Pecora just sat and watched, his eyes pitiless, his stare unwavering, as he saw Yoon struggling to come to grips with the enormity of what he had been given.
Finally, Yoon managed to collect himself, clearly unable to believe what he had just read.
“This cannot be true!” he blurted out. “You cannot be serious. Attacks on two Hammer systems! For an alleged hijacking? This is just lies. Unprovoked aggression. I don’t think you-”
Pecora cut him off, rising to his feet, his voice brutal with barely controlled anger.
“Frankly, Ambassador Yoon, neither I nor my government cares what you think. It’s all there in the statement of facts, chapter and verse, as required by the New Washington Convention. So unless you have any questions that the note does not answer, I suggest you leave now. I am sure your government would like to know of our declaration sooner rather than later. My staff will show you out. Goodbye.”
With that, Pecora was out of his chair and gone. Yoon just sat, shocked into paralyzed immobility, the cheerful floral pattern of the armchair hugely at odds with the high drama of the moment.