02-23-2019, 08:39 AM
Tofino International Airport, Zamastan
February 22nd, Afternoon
A grey plane approached the airport, spartan in appearance asides for the large silver lettering on the side spelling out "ISS-1." Inside the plane, aides and attaches to surrounded a table, pouring over various documents and data in preparation for the upcoming summit. Three directors and a president sat in comfortable cushioned chairs in the room closer to the cockpit, while the last director briefed the security personnel on the other side of the plane. A few crew members looked outside the windows, having never been to the country before and taking a chance to see it from above.
As the plane finally landed, a sigh of relief was breathed by many of the staff - they were almost out of nicotine. Quickly lining up, the aides watched as President Sloan, dressed in a charcoal 3-piece suit, descended the stairs, followed by his two personal bodyguards. The only color on his suit was a golden pin, with the crow of the Shuellian flag engraved on it.
As President Sloan did, Director of International Affairs Hoffman, Director of Energy Klein, and Director of Trade Goudier stepped off the plane, each escorted by two sour-faced security personnel. Hoffman was the most noticeable of the trio, wearing a navy blue 2-piece suit and flashing a confident grin. Klein, a plain-looking man wearing glasses, hurriedly descended, talking into a phone pressed to his ear. Goudier, the only female director present for the summit, left the plane, dressed in a plaid grey blazer and skirt. Thanking the men escorting her, she stepped off to the side, next to the other directors.
Finally, after a momentary pause, the last Director descended the staircase, with the rest of the staff following closely behind. Director Fischer, of External Security, appears to be the oldest of the group, with visible grey and silver hair. He's dressed in a khaki suit and cap, with a belt holster on him, occupied with a pistol of some kind. He's a weary-looking man, with wrinkled, tan skin.
As the last of the grey-suited staff exited, they moved on, already planning on what to do at the upcoming summit.
February 22nd, Afternoon
A grey plane approached the airport, spartan in appearance asides for the large silver lettering on the side spelling out "ISS-1." Inside the plane, aides and attaches to surrounded a table, pouring over various documents and data in preparation for the upcoming summit. Three directors and a president sat in comfortable cushioned chairs in the room closer to the cockpit, while the last director briefed the security personnel on the other side of the plane. A few crew members looked outside the windows, having never been to the country before and taking a chance to see it from above.
As the plane finally landed, a sigh of relief was breathed by many of the staff - they were almost out of nicotine. Quickly lining up, the aides watched as President Sloan, dressed in a charcoal 3-piece suit, descended the stairs, followed by his two personal bodyguards. The only color on his suit was a golden pin, with the crow of the Shuellian flag engraved on it.
As President Sloan did, Director of International Affairs Hoffman, Director of Energy Klein, and Director of Trade Goudier stepped off the plane, each escorted by two sour-faced security personnel. Hoffman was the most noticeable of the trio, wearing a navy blue 2-piece suit and flashing a confident grin. Klein, a plain-looking man wearing glasses, hurriedly descended, talking into a phone pressed to his ear. Goudier, the only female director present for the summit, left the plane, dressed in a plaid grey blazer and skirt. Thanking the men escorting her, she stepped off to the side, next to the other directors.
Finally, after a momentary pause, the last Director descended the staircase, with the rest of the staff following closely behind. Director Fischer, of External Security, appears to be the oldest of the group, with visible grey and silver hair. He's dressed in a khaki suit and cap, with a belt holster on him, occupied with a pistol of some kind. He's a weary-looking man, with wrinkled, tan skin.
As the last of the grey-suited staff exited, they moved on, already planning on what to do at the upcoming summit.
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