kostyora

So, they were finally here. Lindsey supposed she should feel glad that they'd made their first step without any undue complications, but something niggled regardless, and it bothered her that she didn't know what it was that was bothering her. The crew had been pleasant enough, doing their own myriad things. Mahan with his retreats to practice his comportment and speech... perhaps the Solomani blood in the Drinaxian drove him to be better; Eirene practicing her larcenous raiding (though with the knowledge that her quarry was made for her in advance); the doct-- Rahne she had not spoken much to. Indeed, they only really saw each other when Lindsey finished preparing her meals and when they passed each other using the ship's space for exercise. She was not overfond of doctors, but that was hardly the Darrian's fault... so she determined to be polite and wait for whenever the doctor judged it appropriate to be closer. Urien and Kesper she saw hardly at all. Their duties meant they almost never crossed paths with her, and in truth Urien made her uneasy; he acted unlike any Captain she had known, even reservist ones and she wondered if it were significant somehow. Astrid however was another matter, every moment was brighter when the little furball was around; hell, she even deigned to let Lindsey pet her now. It had taken many surreptitious snacks given and many embarrassing attempts to coax her to let her be closer whilst down on her knees... but it was progress. But there was only so much time where you could be professional and helpful on this ship, and she inevitably had some downtime -- which she filled with singing when she was sure she would not be overheard. And studying when she almost certainly was. It was almost embarrassing really. She was never going to star in any operas, but she had a pleasing enough voice and it made her happy to indulge herself in daydreams (or whatever passed for them in an environment when day and night had no real meaning) for a while. As for studying, it didn't escape her notice that of all the current crew of the ship she was by far the most useless if there came to an occasion where there was violence involved. It was true that she knew the basics of gunnery thanks to her time in the Navy, but others knew far more than her -- so she directed her efforts in directions where they were still lacking. Namely, Electronics, or to be even more specific, the use of the ship's sensors. It wasn't easy but it was rewarding. Despite her distaste for Sindalian decadence it at least appeared they were rigorous with their training materials. Lindsey had been among the first to arrive but sat quietly with a simple coffee and a few sticks of shortbread she had baked herself, while the others contributed first. She considered trying to tempt Astrid to leave Urien's orbit and come to her but she dismissed it. Time enough for that later. "Are you quite sure?" she muttered to Mahan, standing ramrod straight with her arms crossed across her chest. "I do not exactly resemble a bounty hunter, you understand. But, if you are sure, I will of course comply." She nodded a touch at Urien's comment before adding to it: "The well to do on any planet don't tend to like anything unexpected or destabilizing too; be they noble or nouveau-riche. They have too much to lose to chaos, and so no doubt know something through their own networks -- every day that port is out of commission is a fortune lost. I could try and shake the figurative tree and see what falls loose. Between us, we can probably at least eliminate the hearsay from the facts when we pool all of our available knowledge."

Lindsey tried to interject several times as the would-be ransacker said her piece but the woman's mix of apology, requesting patience, and statements of what she considered fact cut her short. She could at least sympathize with wanting to murder Urien, so that counted as progress. Her eyebrow raised in shock when she heard that her compatriot had been hustled into the king's presence without even something to munch on first. They seemed an indolent, almost hedonistic folk the Drinaxians, and she had been in many a court where a rumbling stomach would be taken as an insult. She revised her opinion of the palace's staff markedly down for such a basic mistake. At the attempt to smooth it over with a smile she couldn't help but give a friendly smirk in return, and took the chance to finally speak. "Murdering Konicek wouldn't be amiss, I grant. If this is going to be a habit I'll leave some things for you when we turn in if this is acce-" She never got to finish the sentence as Eirene monkeyed her way past and fled in the direction of the bridge. On the whole, that'd gone better than expected, she thought. But now to right an unspeakable wrong. A woman was hungry on a ship she was the Stewardess of. Unacceptable and unconscionable. She thought briefly about what to serve up before the mention of cocoa came to mind again, and her hands moved almost of their own volition first grabbing a tray and setting it upon the closest counter top. 'Powder, pinch of orange blossom honey, powdered ginger, cinnamon, and hot water.' She thought about adding marshmallows too, but left that to the Corsair's discretion, making up a little bowl of them with a spoon to accompany the cocoa when it was ready. While the water boiled in the saucepan, she turned her attention to the tray. Another few bowls first, then the cheeses. She wasn't happy with the choice she had, but it would have to do -- soft cheeses first presented as they were. Parmesan, goat cheese, and the like. The harder cheeses she cut into slices and cubes, and made the patterns she placed them in as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Next, charcuterie. She chose soppressata, chorizo, and proscuitto as she plenty of all three (leaving some of all three aside for later), and patiently wrangled them into shapes that she was happy with. Then, finally enough slices of good black bread, and she filled in any existing holes with nuts, fruit and olives, while filling the bowls with garnishes. "That'll do until dinner. Now, Ms Kovacevic and her hunger pangs." Conscious she had only a few minutes until the cocoa was ready, she decided on a simple sandwich, using the remnants of the meat and cheese (plus some red onions and cucumber) on a single slice of bread. She had heard many of her fellows say this was the wrong way to make a sandwich, but she disagreed. Two slices was far too dry, and it was hardly her fault most didn't have the simple ability to hold the corners. Finally, the saucepan reached the temperature she wished and she whipped up the cocoa, depositing it all on several trays to carry to the bridge... hoping to whatever power would listen that Urien's machine or Astrid wouldn't trip her up en-route. She had come late to whatever discussion was proceeding on the bridge and wordlessly dispensed her bounty to the waiting mouths. First, Eirene, her sandwich, and the cocoa she had made. Then she set the cheeseboard in the middle trusting the rest would know what to do from there, while she stood with her back to the wall -- content to observe and finally grease this dysfunctional band's wheels enough they'd get moving.

For a moment, Lindsey struggled not to lose her temper with this band of... characters. Especially Konicek. She knew the Confederation had all types, but she had rarely met a more dissolute and undisciplined naval officer in her life. The store bought kimchi wasn't a bit deal, it truly wasn't, but it annoyed her to the point she could not help a jibe at his expense. "Is that the only word you know? 'Later'?" She shook her head in exasperation. "I suppose I can at least be thankful I was right about where you come from. You had best hope you don't lose your appetite for kimchi, as it's what I've prepared for you to eat later. If you forget about it, it'll be in the refrigeration unit." "Regarding captaincy; I neither want nor am equipped for the job. You, doctor, it would seem foolish to entrust both executive power and the responsibility for our health in one woman. If your need to fulfil the latter duty becomes pressing I do not feel it would be to our advantage to lose our leader, and delegating command to someone else during combat would merely undermine your authority. You... Kesper, is it? You may be a decent choice but none of us are familiar with Zhodani methods." She turned to face the Vilani woman only to find she was no longer there. "The Vilani might prove a decent choice as she has experience with piracy, but given she seems to have no interest in this deliberation anyway it would seem Mr Mahan would be the only obvious choice." "I've said my piece. Decide among yourselves." She returned to the area of the ship she had claimed as her kingdom to find a long fingered Vilani poking around it, and she observed the would-be thief for a moment with her arms crossed. She knew exactly what her shipmate was doing as everyone on a ship did it at some point. It was only wrong if you caught and thus she tried to sound polite - thought not totally succeeding - when she asked: "Can I be of assistance, Ms. Kovacevic? If you're hungry, I can fix you something now before we eat properly later. There are only six of us at present but I would like to make it clear I don't appreciate my pantry being pilfered. If you want something, all you need do is ask."

Lindsey turned to look at the newcomer and felt her hackles raise. Daryen may be technically human -- some even had Solomani blood; but she was reminded of the old Terran tales of the fae folk whenever she looked at Kyra's ears, and her people were Imperial allies to boot. At least with the Zhodani they had common foes to grease the wheels. And a doctor too. 'Wonderful,' she cursed silently in her mind. Sighing, she stood straight, and mindful she had the detritus of trying to prepare meals on her hands -- did not offer to shake but inclined her head politely to the newcomer. "It's my pleasure to welcome you aboard, ma'am. Please excuse the lack of a handshake, if that's the custom among your people. I am in no fit state to offer you one, as you can see. When you have the time, I'd appreciate if you let me know what you'd like to have for dinner. It's a tradition in the Solomani Navy that officers have a special meal for a ship's commissioning." She allowed herself a wry smile as she was aware this was neither the Solomani Navy; nor were some of the present, officers. But a collegial spirit among the people on the ship could only be a good thing -- and if that meant making more of an effort than some deserved, so be it. The only one she couldn't hide her thoughts from seemed a friendly enough sort, so she wasn't worried on that front. Turning finally to the screen, she dipped into a precise curtsey, unwilling to be made to look boorish by this point-eared newcomer. "Thank you for the information, Ma'am. Rest assured, we will make good use of it. I am quite sure between us we can manage without causing unnecessary property damage or loss of life." "All of you, when you are hungry, please let me know and I'll start on your food. I have done my best with what I can glean from you all, and I'd like for us to be able to eat together. That way we can discuss the more mundane details like chain of command, expenses, and how we are to divvy up the spoils of this campaign." She then fixed Mahan with a stony, but not hostile look. "And we are overdue already for that talk about administrative arrangements. You would seem to have a better grasp on the more belligerent side of this campaign than I, so I will need your assistance."

'Damnation' she thought to herself. She had been sure Rachando had been up to something; she couldn't say why -- but her gut told her the... resourceful... Amphibian had something special in mind. But perhaps he simply was out for a profit like he presented himself as. The Reach was a special stretch of charted space after all, with the ruins of empire and its wild warlordism reminding her somewhat of a land she had read about on old Earth. A place so notorious it had earned the moniker 'The Graveyard of Empires.' Making a trade in artifacts from this region was smart as Imperial nobles - and though she was loathe to admit it, Solomani notables - liked those sorts of knick-knacks; as it allowed them to pretend to have class and sophistication to people that had none. (That is if they were generous and didn't produce some mothbitten chronicle to prove their 'ownership' of the spoils anyway.) His deciding to play nice for his erstwhile employer meant he still made a return on his investment, and the fact it wasn't as large as he would normally make, was easy to swallow in the face of the greater profit from this near monopoly he had built for himself. She could scarcely conceal her excitement to be back aboard a Navy ship. The fact it was neither her Navy nor a mission she was in any way equipped for bothered her little. Her job had always been to ensure others performed at their peak. And thus she was content to let the others claim the staterooms reserved for officers first, a small bed would do her fine -- though she would have enjoyed being able to control her room's temperature, as even the cold of space can get intolerable after a while. But perhaps she could make her presence felt differently. Though Sindalian design was splendorous and aesthetically magnificent, she found the layout intuitive enough and noted approval that the common area was not far away from the wardrooms. Scarcely after stowing her things, she commandeered it. As it was what passed for cooking space aboard the ship. A good meal would do them all good before their new life of pira... 'privateering' she reminded herself while she busied herself with making the space acceptably clean by her standards. "This is strictly legal," she attempted to reassure herself while her hands scraped, polished, and washed away. "Now then," she whispered as she stood in the midst of her handiwork. "What exactly does a fellow Solomani, a Drinaxian, a Vilani, a Zhodani, and an Amphibian eat?" Urien she had an idea for. The Confederation was a large place, but she knew a Rimmer when she heard one. If she had to guess, either from the Aldebaran or Megrez Sectors. She had entertained an Admiral from the Rim once, and he'd enjoyed the kimchi she had prepared. Hopefully... he would too. Mindlessly, she moved to retrieve the ingredients and tools she would need as she proceeded to the next on the list. The Drinaxian she hoped, was partial to the cuisine she'd experienced during her time at the palace. Warm but not overbearing spiced sauce mixed through with coconut milk, over rice and whatever meat was to hand. If she'd wanted to be opulent, she'd have procured fish of some description, but as it is -- she decided to use some of the meat she'd procured for the ex-pirate. 'The ex-pirate' she said to herself reproachfully while she sliced the cabbage for Urien's kimchi into quarters and washed them. She had a name: Eirene. She knew she had been dismissive, even perhaps rude to the Vilani, and she regretted it. For one, she was perhaps the one most suited to this Great Crusade, toward which the remnants of the Kingdom of Drinax had striven these many months, and thus it would behoove her to apologize. She wasn't too proud to accept direction from those who knew better than her... at least for the moment. And, she reminded herself; not all Imperials were beyond hope. They had created and maintained Humaniti's dominion over this galaxy -- despite being determined to render every part of their species' uniqueness moot, with their bland cosmopolitanism and unrestrained corporate greed. There was considerable gold among the dross of the empire, and Eirene was likely one of those nuggets. Pork, she decided. She knew schabowy was popular in the regions of the Imperium that bordered Magyar Sector. The fact the NSS claimed it as a national dish was an irony not lost on her, and she only hoped whatever world Eirene hailed from had no particular animus against it. But the Zhodani... he was a tough one. She had no idea what to cook for that tall, grim invader of thoughts. Thanks to the Consulate's secrecy, she had no idea what was even en vogue there at the moment and she was briefly at a loss. 'No matter' she eventually told herself. She would decide while cooking the other dishes. The Amphibian, bizarrely, despite being the most alien of the group was the easiest one for Lindsey to decide on. They liked what the denizens of Earth would have called shellfish. A lobster tail with half the rice she'd prepare for Mahan, and a bowl of fresh salad. Perfect. She could finally get to work. But in fact, she had barely even started her prep when she heard the ping, indicating an incoming call. And deciding duty came before food... even hers, she reluctantly left everything where it lay. Astrid might decide to punish her for her laxity, but she liked the little fuzzball and hoped the feeling was mutual. Perhaps she would show mercy to a fellow Solomani. Perhaps.

"Most kind of you," Lindsey uttered as neutrally as she could manage with an attempt at a smile. "I will compensate you when I am able." Having said this, she carefully weaved her way around the ersatz marketplace to approach one of Rachando's human assistants. Bawapakerwa-a-a-awapawab were notoriously immune to picking up human social cues - and Rachando would hardly be stupid enough to incriminate himself - so perhaps she would have better luck with his flunkies. She also tried to suppress her childish glee at remembering the species' full name; they were a proud species in their way, and even if most Solomani could not care less about their good impression, she did. She eyed one likely mark taking care to have the appearance of working hard while accomplishing very little in their employer's blindspot, and moved to engage them in conversation. 'What would you recommend? You look far from home, How is the honorable Rachando treating you?' and other such pleasantries. In truth, she knew what she wished to order. A pair of IR goggles (the improved version if they had them); 5 or so smoke grenades; a scan jammer; a suppressor; the more advanced model of accelerator rifle; and a few droppers of starlight drops. By Lindsey's reckoning, around 4.825Cr if Rachando's prices hadn't changed. If it came to a fight, she wanted an advantage. She knew her limitations as a sailor, and every sophont needed to see. Those few moments of blindness on their foes' part might save her and her new companions. But, she would leave that for the moment. She wanted to know what Rachando's business here was. It was unlikely this callow youth knew much, but they might have heard some gossip -- and if they didn't let slip... she didn't mind playing the little coquette for their benefit.

She had been excited to see the interior of the ship but Lindsey felt a vague sense of disappointment, only made worse at her irritation at Urien's lack of self-control, undulating in waves with thoughts like 'This man made Captain? Unbelieveable.' She had known it would be gaudy, but she could not have imagined how much her eyes would be assaulted in person. 'It would appear the Sindalians confused overindulgence with grandeur,' she thought to herself remembering a book she had borrowed from the Captain of the last ship she had served on, prattling on about the transcendentals. But, it would do. Perhaps she was simply too used to the Spartanism of most Solomani ships, military and civilian. "Yes, perhaps that is so," she said to herself quietly, heedless of who might hear her as her eyes landed on the slouching Vilani cutthroat looking insufferably pleased with herself. "Something amusing, friend?" She shrugged and looked back a way to all the rooms they had passed during the Lord Admiral's tour. "I suppose when we're done here, I and perhaps Mahan will have to spend some time in there," Lindsey said in a contemplative tone while jerking her thumb at the admin office that had seen better days as they walked past it. "We'll need a proper inventory if we're to do this well. Both normal effects and more... pointed effects. Does this sound amenable?" she asked the tall and taciturn Drinaxian who was here to watch them. Lindsey performed a neat little half bow as the Admiral left at the same time as her eye caught the amphibian who had been her ride to Drinax, and unbidden she cracked a wide smile. "Rachando, you rascal. Just when I think I've emptied my pockets out enough for you, here you are." She liked the greedy free trader but she would be a liar if she told anyone she trusted him. The Reach was fine enough, she supposed, but she saw no reason for a free trader to have such an interest in the area without extra incentive.

"Your homeworld too, friend," Lindsey said acidly in return. The other one, Urien, may be boastful -- unreasonably so -- but it was not for this one to criticize the Confederation's mission. As if ashamed by her momentary outburst, small as it was, she turned and left; trying to charm and collect the cat. She would have her chance with the feline before departure, she told herself. Hopefully she was a good, steady, Solomani bred one. Before she had to stop and mentally hit her head on the metal walls of the ship. She had to get him in hand. Sooner rather than later, in fact, she even ventured to say this might be why she was hired. "Urien. A word when we have a moment, if you don't mind." She didn't bother to hide her horrified expression. "Trickster is one word for it. I expect better from a Captain in our Navy."

The Royal Palace, Throne Room 'No wonder we came here so often,' Lindsey reflected to herself as she struggled to keep her composure. Whatever her Royal Highness' game was, she would not be so tactless to blanche or outwardly react. Both because her professional side demanded it of her, and... more selfishly she admitted, 'The Princess would be disappointed if I did.' Instead she gave a bright smile, and answered: "Ma'am. Our time here was impos--sible to forget." She stumbled over her response somewhat seeing things she convinced herself were not there, before the touch of a veiled glove set her insides churning again. 'Appropriate. I suppose, a veiled glove. If I did see it, she has an ulterior motive in mind -- and that saying from old Earth had the unspoken knowledge of iron being concealed beneath.' Cheeks burning, and having to remind herself not to stare at her boots following in the Princess' wake, she followed the procession to the Hangar. The Royal Hanger, Harrier Bay Lindsey counted herself lucky. For the second time today, she was caught off guard by something beauteous the Reach had to offer. It was a fine ship, even in its decayed state. Sleek clean lines, the rear portion reminding her somewhat of a bird of prey swooping on an unsuspecting rodent, and... in a particularly banal way, she was looking forward to seeing how it was appointed inside. She had heard and read much about Sindalian splendor; even on their military craft. Yes, she was very much looking forward to being aboard it. "If I might, Lord Admiral, at the risk of sounding dim... how exactly was this... Reclaimer's Intent," she said with a sidelong look at Mahan, "...brought low first time around? If it were boarded, they may yet be surprises aboard. I certainly would leave a parting gift to a salvage party on a commerce raider I left abandoned." Crouching to again try and get the cat's attention, she nonetheless continued to look at at the grim Admiral -- who plainly did not approve of this scheme.

She could not help but laugh while returning to her feet with as much grace as she could muster. "It would appear the Lady Astrid demands a high price for her favor, Sire." She could not very well compete with a King in his own court over a cat's favor. She would make it up to her later with treats. At her fellow Solomani's words however, she stiffened slightly and gave him for a fraction of a second, a look of urgency. He ought to be more clear which of them he was addressing. It's why they had titles. But she relaxed after. Perhaps it was better to make mistakes in high company now rather than as a Duke. Lindsey then at once dipped into the bow the Herald had shown them but a few moments before before fluidly returning to her standing stance. "Your Royal Highness, it is a pleasure to see you again." And she meant it. She would be surprised if the Princess remembered her, glorified factotum as she was back then with Matsuko. But, she had been impressed with the young Princess. She'd even unconsciously - to Matsuko's great amusement - borrowed a few mannerisms from her, for use when giving orders and negotiating with one or other figures her boss did not deign to speak to herself.

Sinking slowly to her knees on the ground and then bending forward to minimize her profile, Lindsey began to reach out to the cat while clicking her tongue, making a vague kissy sound with her lips, and patting the ground ahead of her. "Whomever she is, she's beautiful. Come here, Murrka, good girl."

Lindsey still felt a might uncomfortable in this company of killers and pirates, but the King's ebullience was beginning to sweep her along, even if she still retained some reservations. 'And,' she thought to herself, 'this may be good for the Confederation. Certainly another state between us and the Hierate would not go amiss.' She thought briefly too of old Matsuko, and wondered if this 'opportunity' she had mentioned was just another service she was performing for her old patroness. "Forgive me, Sire. Good points have already been raised, but I must ask another. In the interest of operational security, this secret must be kept to a tight circle. As they say, 'a secret known to two is one too many.' What shall our approach be if we encounter other elements of your navy? As surely it must operate beyond Drinax and Asim on occasion?" Having asked her question, she turned her attention to the feline her fellow Solomani has brought along. A wonderful creature, that reminded her of Iskra -- a companion whose loss she still mourned. If she got the chance, she would have to buy something to keep the cat occupied on the ship. As a Steward, she would no doubt be responsible for the well-being and comfort of the ship's denizens... and a cat was as important as a human... and of course, amphibians.

"Perhaps, but in this case, I hardly think so. It'd be a crime to poison a vintage like this."

Lindsey could not help a touch of sympathy for the Herald's seeming denigration. He would remember it for a few days before he finally let go of it, she thought. Though, she also reflected -- it had been his choice to be rude and not simply offer instruction in the first place. No matter. She managed a neutral, non-committal smile as she ambled through, still somewhat bemused at the behavior of what she had at first taken to be simply another petty king in the Hierate's inexorable way as it expanded in any way which provided it rich bounty. Though she revised it somewhat. She had read a little of the sector's history during her odyssey to get here and if this was the sort of wealth the Sindalians had once possessed, King Oleb came from a distinguished pedigree indeed. 'One that he no doubt wishes to not lose,' she thought idly to herself as she trailed her compatriots silently. 'Is this why we're here? A group of oddities under the gaze of one of his own. But why? Why? What does he have in mind.' So lost in her thoughts was she, she almost walked into the Zhodani's back as he waved to the other Solomani present, as he revealed something worth remembering. He was a Captain. Interesting... She accepted the libration offered but did not quite wish to drink yet. She would hear what the good King had to say first, and then she would indulge... though whether it was in commiseration or to mark the start of a new beginning remained to be seen.  "Your health, Majesty. I confess I don't quite know why I am here among such... interesting company, but, I am known as Lindsey Zhukova. Until recently the Chief Steward to Senator Matsuko of the Confederation." Feeling she was at a disadvantage - as some of this motley assemblage evidently knew each other already - she stayed silent from then on, and studied the glass. It was a beautiful thing, and before she knew it she was drifting into her mental encyclopedia to compare... 'Look at that subtle gold coloring. The tasteful thickness of the stem... My god, it even has a coat of arms on the underside of the foot...'

She had almost, almost missed the Herald's question. She had observed various despots with pretensions to royalty as well as the genuine article before, from the relative anonymity of the domestic staff, whose mark of professionalism and competence was in fact to be seen hardly at all. She was confident she knew the answer to the query, but instinctively hedged in her reply. It would not do to step on another of her kind's toes. He was there to ensure everything went correctly when they were introduced to his employer, and thus would show them anyway. She made to speak before being pre-empted by the admittedly handsome one of the group... Solomani, like herself, if she judged his accent right. "I remember a thing or two," he remarked as he came upward from his flamboyant introduction. She thought it was a trifle overdone personally, as a simple bending of the neck and inclination of the head and shoulders forward was all that was required for what the more feudal-minded considered a gentleman. But, she also thought, if he were Solomani -- perhaps he was simply making a good natured joke while he could. Or perhaps he was simply no gentleman, which she could credit as a hypothesis. "Perhaps there is a Drinaxian custom I am unaware of, but, for myself and you," she spoke softly while incling her head at the other woman, "I am given to understand we do this." Keeping her upper body subtly rigid and her arms relaxed by her sides, she slowly and deliberately swept her right leg behind her left and rested on the ball of her foot before descending a few centimeters, and rising to her original position again. "But, I am happy to be instructed if I am wrong." Having said her piece, she scanned her would-be compatriots. A Bwap, a perhaps Solomani, a... Zhodani from his stature, and... she could not tell. Whatever she was, she looked like a coiled spring. 'Interesting," she thought idly.