Daonlathas,
Executive District,
Stoinian Ambassadorial Tower,
24/05/1620 PD, roughly one month later

One of Sinclair's Stoinian secretaries had dropped off a few datapads to his office with some documents regarding some Stoinian shipments for the businesses in the tower that required his permission. It was archaic for Ryccian standards, but Sinclair approved of things with more touch to them and so used datapads which required his thumb signature. As he began to review them, he noticed the first one was a bit odd and it peeked his interests as it was directed to Foixon Perushan. He would have dismissed it if it wasn't for its contents. Kiyusni... What could it possibly be? Sinclair fired up the holocomputer on his desk. By now he had grown used to its flashiness, though he felt the controls were still somewhat janky. He wasn't sure if he didn't master it yet or was becoming old. With a curious nose he browsed the holonet for this Kiyusni. He was pleasantly surprised to find out that it had been in fact some sort of wood. The holonet indicated that it was some sort of renowned Velpan wood. What would Foixon do with wood? He was on Daonlathas after all, what more could he want? Then a spark hit right at home, his father's carpentry business. Oh he loathed the fact he hadn't called his family back home in all this time. He was so caught up in his work and his own family that he forgot about them. His nostalgia was interrupted by the doors chime.

"Come in."

The young secretary from a few minutes ago had returned.

"I'm sorry Sir. I think I dropped off a wrong datapad to you. It was for your aide, Foixon Perushan."

"Yes, I know. I have it right here and don't worry about it. I'll drop it off to him myself."

"All right, Sir. But he said it was something important to him and that it had already been delayed long enough."

"Don't worry about, I'll take care of it. No you go and resolve your other worries, okay?"

Sinclair replied with a smile and the secretary returned the gesture.

"All right, Sir. I won't take any more of your valuable time."

The secretary left his office and he continued his search to this kiyusni wood. Was it possible that Foixon was a spare time carpenter? After he had done his work on the rest of reports, he approved that of Foixon's as well. When it was time the delivery arrived, he went towards the landing platform, but set out to find Foixon first. He sought his office, but he wasn't there. He decided to check out the delivery himself and walked on the hallways next to the large commercial zone. There he was, the sneaky Velpan! He was surrounded by Stoinian delegates who were tasked in preparing the ceremony of Princess Elena's arrival to the tower. The young Princess was admitted into the Ryccian Imperial Academy and a large welcome ceremony would be held upon her arrival. Sinclair decided to save the poor Velpan who clearly was growing tired of explaining Ryccian protocol to the Stoinian delegates.
 

"Foixon! I need you for a minute."

Foixon turned in a split second towards Sinclair. His Velpan instincts were still on point, that's for sure. He excused himself to the delegates as Sinclair approached him.

"Mr. Perushan, I have a surprise for you."

"High Legate, I don't understand. I you don't mind I have work to..."

"Oh, you mean to tell me that the kiyusni is in fact a gift for me?"

Foixon did his best to suppress his confusion, but Sinclair saw it and enjoyed it far too much.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, I'll have to borrow Mr. Perushan for a moment. He'll let you know when he will be available again."

If there's on thing Foixon hated Sinclair for was when he interrupted his work for some Stoinian off-duty squabbling. However, this time was different...

"Sir, can you elaborate a bit more?"

"Oh, we don't thank our superiors when they save us from delegates? That's no way to thank your boss Foixon. Also, remember what I said about the rank."

"Yes, Si... Jeff. Thank you, but you know as well as I do that I don't like to be interrupted during my work."

Sinclair still wasn't happy on how he said his name, but a matter for another time.

"Oh, but I thought you might for this occasion. After all, Janet told me this delivery of yours was delayed."

"Si... Jeff, if I may. How did you obtain the schedule of the delivery?"

"Janet, one of secretaries, dropped it off on accident in my office. Then I looked into the details and the old carpenter's son in me couldn't help but feel nostalgic."

Foixon was even more confused, but this time he was able to hide his expression. He also didn't understand why Sinclair was so interested in his delivery, though he started to suspect.

"Did you grow in a carpenter's family as well?"

Sinclair smiled as his friend was beginning to resolve his little puzzle.

"You Velpans truly are cunning are you. Why you don't see me as a carpenter?"

"Not really, Si... I thought you were a military man."

"Oh, I am. But tell me, does that mean I can't have any hobbies at all? Especially when your father is carpenter, you learn a few tricks here and there when you are forced to work in his shop as a child."

Foixon was slightly shocked as he interpreted it very differently to what Sinclair actually meant. Nonetheless he still asked with a neutral tone.

"Do your people use child labour?"

Sinclair grinned at his friends response.

"Oh, no. It's just those things that your father wants to teach you as well. I'm guessing you have a similar background, though I can't imagine how you got your hands on that expensive Velpan wood."

"Yes, my father was a carpenter as well. He shared some of his trades with me as well when I was little. Though it has been such a long time... The kiyusni is a gift from my father. You see, he's an artisan who works with this type of wood. He thought it was best I had something to relax in my spare time and make something to connect with my home planet while I stay here."

Foixon's tone wasn't too enthusiastic. He had made it his career to escape his home planet and grew to detest some of work when he had to help his father in carpentry. 

"Oh, your father sure seems a wise man, Foixon. Let me know if he comes for a visit."

"How come you say that? You don't even know him."

Sinclair smiled as they passed a corner towards the hangar.

"Because I give the same lesson to my children and I don't like to call myself a fool. That would be quite unfortunate as a diplomat, especially when you have the National Review criticizing your every move."

Sinclair saw in the corner of his eyes that Foixon mad a little smile. He wasn't certain, but it felt like it was the first time he saw him smile.

"Oh I know that feeling all to well, Jeff."

Sinclair opened the door and there was a shuttle unloading multiple goods. The pilots were busy to unload his cargo, but Sinclair decided to help these Ryccians.

"Say, you fine gentlemen have a delivery for my friend Perushan over here?"

The pilots were surprised the Stoinian Legate had appeared and bothered to speak to them. So the rumours were true then... The High Legate was so... Open.

"Let me see... Ah yes. A full batch of kiyusni, roughly 20 large planks and a box. Where do you want us to unload them?"

"Oh just over there. Here I'll even help you with it."

The pilots and Foixon were confused. This Stoinian Legate certainly loved to indulge in the work of the lower ranks... And so Sinclair thanked the pilots and helped Foixon with his delivery.

"So, Foixon. What are you gonna make out of it?"

"Oh, I don't really know yet. I'll have to transport it somewhere first, but I doubt we have sufficient room in our apartment. Ferala won't like it either."

"Oh, no. Unexpected projects and women don't go together. I remember my mother screaming after my father for not being ready with his work when dinner was ready."

"It appears that is a universal constant. Even my father couldn't escape the wrath of my mother when dinner was ready."

"Tell you what Foixon. I'll find you a spot where we can drop this off during the day and meet you here back at 19 hundred. Deal?"

"I take it, Rebecca has children pickup duty today then?"

"Yes, now. Let's get back to work shall we."
 

---

Daonlathas,
Executive District,
Stoinian Ambassadorial Tower,
Hangar 2,
19:00

Foixon entered the hangar and saw Sinclair tapping on his datapad next to the kiyusni. He approached him, though it felt weird to be here at this hour. A few technicians were working on a shuttle, but pretty much the rest of the crew had left.

"I take it you have found a place for storage."

"I wouldn't call it exactly storage, but rather a workshop."

"A workshop, but where did you find it?"

"Oh in the Moonlight District."

Foixon was surprised. How did he manage to acquire a workshop in the most expensive artisan district on Daonlathas?

"Jeff... How and what are you planning?"

"Well, I could use some down time as well. Something to get my hands and mind busy that isn't work. Franky running every morning doesn't quite do the same trick anymore. I was hoping we could work on a project with your wood get our hands dirty. You know, something to relax."

"I'm sure we can arrange another visit to Voluntaia."

"No, no. Something to accomplish ourselves and be proud of. The Tower is our long-term project, but we need a short-term one as well. This is just the perfect opportunity."

Foixon didn't share Sinclair's enthusiasm as he viewed that such work had no future, or at least with him in it.

"I know you too well to argue with you on such matters. But remember, this is my wood and I'm in charge of the project."

"Yes, Sir."

Foixon was surprised to hear him say that. Now he knew how it felt, though he could accustom to it. The two boarded the shuttle and loaded the kiyusni on the shuttle.

"You'll have to take the pilot's seat on this one Foixon. I really should get my pilot's license for Ryccian vessels though."

"Perhaps, you should prioritize that project over this one."

"I think I just might after this one. I shouldn't delay it too much, sooner or later William might want to get one."

"I'm sure it will come together, Jeff."

"That, I'm certain off."

Foixon than piloted the shuttle towards the Moonlight District.

"You still haven't answered how you managed to obtain a workshop in the Moonlight District."

"Oh I have a few strings here and there."

"So you really aren't going to tell me."

"You remember Nick O'Carr?"

"I suspect it's the famous bounty hunter."

"Yes, more of a private investigator nowadays. I contacted him and he told me in the outer outskirts of the Moonlight District there was a workshop of an artisan who retired a few weeks ago. He did some small investigation for him a while back and has become rather close with the old fellow. He helped convince the artisan to sell his workshop to me and told me I could use the place already."

Foixon was impressed. He never suspected the Legate to maintain such good relations with the low lives of his nation. Truly peculiar...

"Do you always keep such good relations with every Stoinian who passes on Daonlathas?"

"Just the ones who can help me understand all level of Daonlathas."

Foixon then parked the shuttle on the designated landing pad of the workshop. As they opened the door, a silhouette was waiting for them. Foixon wasn't certain what to do next, but Sinclair was one step ahead.

"Ah, Nick O'Carr. You have the keys?"

"Yes, I do, Mr. Sinclair. Hope you boys have fun with it."

O'Carr handed over the passcodes to Sinclair and tipped his hat. 

"Now gentlemen. If you don't mind, I have some investigating to do for an unsecure husband and time is of the essence here. See ya."

O'Carr then mounted his speeder bike and flew away in what seemed to be a burnout. Foixon was still somewhat perplexed.

"I certainly hope he has a license."

"Oh I wouldn't worry too much about him. Now, let's get them unloaded."

The pair opened the workshop and it was clear it hadn't been used for a few days, but the smell of wooden snips was still present. Sinclair felt a deep nostalgic urge, while Foixon didn't care so much. They put the planks against the wall and Sinclair took the box from on top of them.

"Now, let's see those tools your father gave us."

Sinclair opened the box, but instead of tools, it was a bottle. It was filled with some viscous orange liquid accompanied by a digital message. The message was written in an alphabet Sinclair wasn't common with, though it must have been Velpan.

"May I ask what exactly this is?"

Foixon smiled as he saw the bottle he knew exactly what it was. Another gift from his father.

"Ah. That is kiyushnol, an alcoholic beverage made from the syrup of kiyusni trees on Kiyu. A strong alcoholic beverage common in our parts."

"I see, your father is even more wiser than I tought."

"Do you intend to make your children alcoholics then?"

Sinclair laughed, he looked at Perushan and he didn't seem as stern as before. Was that his first joke?
 "Oh, no. But you must admit that one must enjoy the finer aspects of life as well. Now, what did you have in mind as a project?"

Foixon pondered for a moment, but then remembered a conversation with Ferala the other day.

"Well Ferala didn't quite like our couches here. Perhaps we shall make her a new one."

"Good! We'll draw some plans then. The bottle is for when we finish."

Sinclair gave his hand to Foixon and both shook it in a confident Stoinian manner.

"All right, Jeff. Let's get to it."

This time he meant it. 

The next three hours the duo made their plans and divided the tasks between them. Sinclair revealed his father's technique on how to make sturdier corner pieces and Foixon had to admit after a demonstration that they would indeed use his model. They even started to cut some of the wood, but soon saw that the clock was already late. They decided to continue this project after work for the following week. And so, the next week at 19:00, the duo would go to their workshop and continue to work on a new couch. The two became closer and the staff started to notice it. Sinclair would talk about their project and Foixon would address Sinclair as Jeff, a right not even the closest Stoinian staff to Sinclair had gained. As they sawed and worked the wood Sinclair relived his old times with his father and even Foixon regained the appreciation for his father work. Somehow doing it himself, he felt a connection with the wood and what it stood for. How come he never felt this way before? Was this what my father feels during his work? The duo eventually completed the frame and filled the couch up with comfortable cushions made with Khison leather imported from Stoinia. Foixon, as a Velpan could appreciate hunting and was open to the idea of making it out of a leathery substance. Ferala certainly made her preference for leather known. Foixon even was interested in perhaps hunting these Khisons himself one day and Sinclair promised him the opportunity. Sinclair somehow was right as Foixon pondered after seeing his completed work. All this hands on work was relaxing and when completed, it certainly felt good to do so. A plank or two would however remain as a surplus. 

"Well, we better show Ferala what we've been doing all this time. What do you plan to do with the rest of Kiyusni?"

Foixon pondered for a moment. Perhaps... Maybe... I think that could work.

"I think I have an idea."

Sinclair watched him for a few heartbeats and realized he wasn't going to receive and answer anytime soon.

"Well, let pack her up."

"Aren't you forgetting something Jeff?"

Foixon smiled as he lifted up his father's bottle of kiyushnol. Sinclair smiled too at his friend.

"All right, but only because your father is ever so wise."

The two laughed and continued to exchange jokes well into the stairs at Foixon's apartment. Ferala noticed it and opened the door for them before they could even ring.

"What is the meaning of this Foixon?! And who is this?"

"Ferala, meet my boss. High Legate Jeffrey David Sinclair. Jeff, meet my wonderful wife, Ferala Valkeut."

Sinclair smiled and tilted his head. Ferala was surprised to see the Stoinian Legate in her apartment and just now realized what the duo had brought in house. A splendid work of a couch. Ferala was truly impressed by the design and comfort. She sat on it and tested it out. It felt so comfortable and the leather felt good as well. How did they make it themselves?

"Well, Ferala. Do you like it?"

"Like it? It is most exquisite. I never thought the Stoinian Legate and my partner could indulge in such handiwork."

"Oh trust me, the Legate remembered a few tricks from his father. Apparently two sons of carpenters still can do some of their fathers' work."

Sinclair then came with a proposition of his own.

"Perhaps if I get decommissioned, I'll move to Daonlathas and we can start an artisan business. Sinushan Incorporated, bringing peace between our nations, one couch at a time."

The Velpans laughed at Sinclair's slogan.

"Well, I'll leave the happy couple to enjoy their new couch."

"Another time then, Jeff?"

"Yes, another time."

Sinclair knew it was about that bottle, but they would find time again. He tilted his head and smiled as he left the apartment.
 

"What was that about, Foixon?"

"Oh nothing, a small insider."

"I also have some news for you as well."

Foixon wasn't sure what to make of it. Ferala's tone certainly wasn't angry, but rather timid.

"How do I put this... It seems someone has forgotten to take their pills."

Foixon didn't understand at first, but then he knew what she meant. He must have overlooked it as he was too invested in the couch project.

"I'm pregnant Foixon."

Foixon embraced her and sniffed her as a sign of affection. He knew he should feel some sort of guilt, but he was too over joyous with the news.

"I'm happy, Ferala. I don't know how I could have overlooked it... I just..."

"Don't. I'm happy it happened. I love you."

"I love you too, Ferala."

Just what I had in mind for that kiyusni... A crib.