The long journey was finally over. Skipping from system to system, only stopping long enough to secure passage on the next grubby vessel with room for a passenger, it was wearying. Kesper wasn't picky about his accomodations. He was a star marine of thirteen years, after all, fully accustomed to cramped living on ships. It was the company that drained him. Foreigners of every stripe buzzing with disordered thoughts and willful, chaotic behavior. It was enough to drive a decent man mad.
Luckily he was afforded the privilege of privacy more often than not, and could retreat to his room when it all became too much and he just needed a break. It was exhausting, having to keep his guard up. But this wasn't a pleasure cruise. He could deal. Meditation techniques and breathing exercises kept him calm and centered, regular exercise helped work off the anxiety. All in all he kept his composure. Kept his thoughts in right order.
On this, the last leg of his journey he had shook off the scruff and bleariness of a long voyage and made himself as presentable as he could manage: beard trimmed, eyebrows plucked, jewelry polished, makeup carefully applied.
He looked down at Sal with a little smile, his reply letting slip a trace of humor.
"Thank you, small one."
And he stepped off the ship and into a galaxy teeming with the criminally insane.
- - - - -
Kesper was a towering monolith among the petitioners, hands clasped behind his back as he serenely endured the wait imposed on him. The quiet man seemed content to languidly absorb the sights and sounds of the palace for an age - until he slowly wandered off to do a little sightseeing. A servant had to politely but firmly nudge him toward the Royal Gardens, and his pace was quickened at the promise of refreshments.
While searching for a cup of something cold and fruity, Kesper was accosted by the butler. He graced the man with a relaxed smile.
"I'm glad to be considered at all. My only desire is to be of use to the King."
He followed the butler with long strides, easily keeping up.
"I visited here once to attend an event hosted by His Lordship, but I never had the privilege of meeting him. I can't say if I merited his notice then."
He took in his surroundings with evident pleasure.
"The palace is as beautiful as I remember. It's good to see it again."
Then, as though flexing a dormant muscle, he unfurled his mind and reached out an inquisitive mental finger to brush against the butler's thoughts. A staggeringly intrusive act in the eyes of anti-psionic foreigners, but to one such as him, practically second nature.
(Telepathy: Read Surface Thoughts)
(PSI: 9/11)