Upper Decks of the Coronado, may 1st, 2142 (Everybody)
A few days later, most of the senior officers aboard the Coronado attend a reception for the civilian team to brief the concordant. The Admiral is conspicuously absent, perhaps involved with the particulars of getting the fleet underway. Seating is strictly assigned, nearly regimented, and the entire affair has a stiff, uncomfortable feeling. Junior officers move like mannequins, waiters are nearly silent, everyone here seems to know something you do not. You look around you and are vaguely proud of who you recognize in attendance, Commodore Fu Dai Shu and Du Quian E, two war heroes of the greatest prestige, eating side by side. The civilian delegation representing the sum total of humanity's knowledge about the alien threat, carefully broken up and distributed among other groups: Peacock finds himself uncomfortably wedged between two stout gunnery officers, French at a table with the ship's primary surgeon, who he is doing his best not to condescend to, as the man appears to know next to nothing about real medicine, and a female Lt. who for some reason seems to have been allowed to keep her sidearm, eying the whole group carefully.
Food is good but conversation is terrible. Some newly enlisted public affairs officer, one Conner King, gives a halfhearted toast welcoming everyone aboard, he seems more nervous than anything, and finishes quickly. As concluding drinks are served, some find their trays hold a tiny invite slip, about the size of a business card, welcoming them to a brief toast in the Forequarter lounge at the front of the ship, generally reserved for the most senior of officers.
Lieutenant Commanders Tourinho, Rochat, and St. Pierre are all invited, as is Yao Yab Wu of the civilian detachment, and a few of the more bureaucratic-looking mid-level officers. Every attempt is made to conceal this invitation, but it gets out to the more observant members of the room. The forequarter is not exactly under high guard, and the cards say nothing about stragglers showing up uninvited. Some of the snubbed almost feel like pressing their luck. The door is guarded by one cadet who looks more nervous than anything. Hardly an obstacle to someone with wits or a well-rehearsed story...but he does seem to be rather insistent that attendees present their card...and he looks especially nervous and observant as you approach...
Zebulon, Semetary, and JaceHahn: Do you go uninvited, invent some wild story, press your luck, or perhaps attempt to devise some way of listening in?
Magnus, 3_14, and Jameskiller: Do you formally attend?