Author's Notes: I may change the name if anyone has any better suggestions. Not sure what else to tell you other than parts of this come from a dream. Also there is a glossary of terms that will be included as a chapter and regularly updated as necessary. Ooh, and I'd love a review, thanx. J

He stared at the door nervously, shaking so hard he thought he might drop the silver platter of foods he'd been trying to hold so delicately. Little droplets of soup splashed over the edges of the blue rimmed bowl. He was so nervous, the tray might have been more stable in a spacequake.

After a few minutes of trying to calm himself down, and only managing to excite himself further, the poor, plainly dressed fellow finally found the courage to lean forward and push the giant arched door slowly open.

The room beyond was silent, but that meant nothing because he knew she was there. In all her grand glory, like a goddess. Her radiance gleaned off the immaculately white spyrosleen tiled floors. And the paintings, all the characters in important and heroic poses. They had powerful faces.

There was nothing else in the room, because if that was not enough to display her awesome powers, then her loud, booming, dismembered voice, that seemed to come from nowhere, would convince you this was not a woman to be reckoned with. He was not the only servant with qualms about entering. They all spoke its name with great fear, knowing the strange Englais words could only have some horrifying meaning. It was, The Reception Hall.

He entered crouched, half whimpering, and waited.

There was a pause, and then, "Did you take your time servant?" As always, the voice boomed as if from nowhere, and ricocheted around the room. The tray began rattling violently again.

"I hope you have brought adequate nourishment for the time you took." Had he been paying more attention, and been less petrified, he might have noticed the small snort of laughter that came from somewhere ahead of him, to the left. He did not.

"Y…y…..y….yes," he tried to stutter, but before he could finish, he was saved by the door behind swinging open and the entrance of the Mistress and the presence she brought to the room.

Contrary to the usual, she was not wearing the brown and hide of her people, but had dressed herself in an elegant long white dress. It was ruffled, with gold trimmings, braids and buttons - whatever accessory she could manage without appearing over the top. Everything was carefully and specifically placed. Even her hair, a plait on each side curved behind each ear and the rest left to fall in dark-blonde curls at the back, had a meaning of significance. In this fashion, it placed her as the leader of her people.

She looked surprised to see him quivering there, frowned and looked towards that exact point on the wall that the laughter had originated from earlier.

"Why don't you leave," she told him kindly, and softly, as the Mistress was polite. Still a little shaken, he held the silver tray out to her as though begging her to rid him of his burden in some way.

She smiled, but her eyes were sad, "Just put it on the floor." He could not have fled that room with more speed - it would be some time before his feet touched that spyrosleen floor again.

Elanor, the Mistress, sighed and took a few unsatisfied steps into the room, "Scaring the servants is not a pastime Kira."

"I wasn't scaring them," the booming voice returned momentarily, then faded into that of a young cheerful looking woman as a hidden door slid open on the wall to the left, revealing her, "I was keeping their faith alive."

Elanor looked no less displeased, "I don't doubt it," she replied in a tone that suggested otherwise, "but the more often you 'keep faith', the more regularly I receive Spaceline Officials regarding the treatment of the servantile. I don't know how many more of their visits I can tolerate, when we all know full well that, apart from your 'faith keeping', the servants here are treated with more caring and respect than most other places in the galaxy."

Kira grimaced. She was shorter than the Mistress, with longer brown hair pulled into a single plait behind. She was wearing a brown handkerchief design top and a brown slitted skirt that reached down just past her knees. Her boots were also brown, so that they only part of her personage that belayed her importance was the streak of white hair starting from the front right of her head and travelling down into the plait at the back.

"I don't mean any harm, Voltar and I are friends," Kira explained, but seemed aware this was not a good excuse.

"Voltar?" Elanor shot back with interest, her eyebrows half raised.

"Yes, see what I mean? I know their names."

Elanor's next sigh was no less drawn out than her last, "Yes but I have a feeling Voltar has not yet learned to associate yourself with the voice of this room," she studied her chosen heir closely, "I hope I am not teaching you bad habits."

Kira cocked her head to the side and became more serious, "You would not be teaching me them. If I possess them, it is only because I have taught them to myself." Elanor looked slightly less concerned at the suggestion and even managed a small smile. Kira took responsibility for her own actions.

Since her mentor relaxed, so did Kira, her eyes looking Elanor's costume up and down with some intrigue, "What's with the fashion monster?" Elanor barely glanced down.

"Very unAmazonian, I've only seen Norms wearing that kind of attire," Kira continued, "and none of them are here."

Elanor pursed her lips, "Well, there will be, very soon," then at Kira's surprise, "I have a visitor."

"A visitor? Norm? Who?" A Norm here was a most irregular thing. The only time Kira had seen Norms were the occasional political party, but they were rarely held at Aretias. Norms tended to have strange ideas about Amazons. Amazons and their parties.

"A visit from the First Echo Minister, Mr. Mardesos Dell. Naturally I should dress appropriately for his arrival."

But Kira's frown only deepened, "First Echo Minister? What would he want?"

"The same thing that every 'government representative' that follows us up wants, I suppose. - They always want something," Elanor replied, turning away from her pupil to look at the paintings of the fore-Mistresses decorating the walls, "There's a designation soon and Dell is running for Royale. The First Echo Minister probably wants my vote."

Kira followed Elanor with her eyes, "They've never flown all the way down here before." Elanor was supposed to be preparing her for the world of politics, but she was certain she'd be forever mystified regarding their dealings.

"Yes, I've heard Mr. Dell is a very thorough man…," Elanor hesitated, "Or perhaps it is because he is fractionally aware of my dislike for him." She gave Kira a knowing glance and smile.

"Will you vote for him?" Kira asked, conscious that whether Elanor liked him or not had little bearing on whether she voted for him. Sometimes it was the most well liked people that were the most devious.

"No."

"Then why receive him at all?" Elanor turned at the more forceful question.

"Because I'd like him to think I might," she said, also more emotionally.

There was a pause before Kira spoke with amusement, "Then it may not be alright to play games with servants, but politicians…"

"Don't curse."

"… but politicians are a different matter altogether." Now Elanor looked to the door.

"He will be arriving soon," she nodded towards the secret room Kira had emerged from, "You should use the secret room for what it was initially built for, - you might learn something." Kira perked up at the suggestion, peering at the still open doorway as though it were fascinatingly new. She thought it would be fun. It was not until she was already inside, the door closed and only the amplified noise of Elanor's breathing to keep her company that Kira realised this was going to be a conversation of politics, and likely to be highly boring. Also, long.

She cursed under her breath and settled herself down for the long haul. Speakers off (the speakers that had accentuated her voice earlier for the servant's sake), so that if the Mistress hadn't just seen the pupil entering the hidden room just minutes earlier, Elanor would not even have known anyone was there.

And a moment later there was the knock, and the entrance of the First Echo Minister, who Kira had not yet met. A very busy man, by any standard. He could not always be expected to mingle with every minor leader let alone their young, up and coming political replacement.

The secret room offered a flight of stairs that lead upwards to a small, square chamber looking down on the Reception Hall from above. The window there was one way - appearing just as any other segment of wall to those in the Reception Hall below. It was all chemically altered Spyrospleen, of course.

Kira watched the Echo Minister with interest. Though he was of average height, next to the tall Amazonian Mistress, Minister Dell appeared short. He had short black hair and an equally dark clipped moustache and small goatee. The Minister, predictably, was also dressed conservatively in a gray and black business suit, except that anyone with an eye for fashion would have noticed the odd touch here and there, revealing he took some pride in his appearance.

"Ms. Caffrey," the Minister greeted cordially as he stepped towards the Amazon leader, taking her hand and rather formally kissing it.

Elanor nodded her head in recognition, "First Echo Minister Dell."

"Aaaah, we are very formal," Dell immediately interrupted, his eyes gleaming at the beautiful Amazon woman before him, "Please, may I call you Elanor."

Elanor balked, and forced a grimacing smile to her face, she disagreed, "That would hardly be appropriate."

Dell's own smile drooped a little. It was not an important occurrence, and yet it was, because it set the flavour for their conversation. In only a few words, one could sense exactly where a discussion would head, and it would have been much easier for himself if it had not been travelling in the direction it was leading to.

"Ah, well," he moved on, circling the Amazon to look at the paintings decorating the walls himself, "you look well, and I hear a rumour lately that you've recently acquired a Zinquai factory."

"Zinquai?" Kira mouthed to herself puzzledly from her hiding place. What in Artemis' name was Zinquai?

"The rumour is true," Elanor acknowledged, "the Amazons have appropriated a Marduff factory from the Zinquai."

"Mmmm," Dell grunted, "You must have gotten in at the very last second on E-way to have won such a grand prize. I'm sure there are many bidders who would be interested in knowing what you plan on doing with such a business. Wondering what the Amazons would want with Marduff." Kira's eyebrows furrowed, because she realised that this was not just the preliminary niceties that she had first believed it to be. Something was going on here, and it was not designation conversation.

"I only wish to operate the factory until the Zinquai raise the necessary funds to reappropriate it," Elanor replied, though whether she'd recognised the conversation as deeper than the introductory politeness of a visit remained unknown, "It is unfortunate what happened to them."

"Yes, it is," Dell agreed, not looking to his host, but led on without care, "but who would you be considering to sell to, now that you own the only working Marduff factory left?"

Elanor considered the Minister very carefully for a moment before replying, "I have a contract with the hospitals for only the finished product. An exclusive contract."

"You won't sell to anyone else?" the Minister probed, still looking to the paintings, hands in his pockets. As Kira looked down from just above his balding head, she noticed his gaze had taken on a cold stare. The Minister's mouth had twisted itself into a tight, thin line.

"I won't," Elanor confirmed.

The Minister nodded, and sighed, and reached inside his jacket.

"That is unfortunate," he said, turning back to the Amazon leader. Kira's eyes widened, she opened her mouth to scream forgetting that it would do no good. Minister Dell removed the gun from his coat and struck the Amazon Queen a shot right between the eyes.

As Kira's cry of, "Noooo!" echoed uselessly around the tiny, hidden chamber, she caught one last look of the First Echo Minister as he gazed cooly about the room. For a minute she thought their eyes met, through spyrosleen, though it was impossible for him to see her. And he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Outside, Mardesos Dell looked to the smartly dressed guard who'd been standing in wait beside the door. His earpiece was in and his gun held up dangerously ready in hand, just waiting for the chance to be used.

"Any others?" Dell questioned, looking down the hall.

The guard sniffed and shifted his stance, "Everyone who knew we were here are disappeared, Sir."

Dell nodded, walking down the hall, "Good."

The guard, following, "And what now Sir?"

"Now," Dell repeated firmly, "now we must find another way to procure what we need."