Ensign Mahan, Star Guard
The Office of Lord Wrax, Star Guard Barracks
The Captain and the Admiral exchange a look over you at your answer, and the Admiral raises a brow. An unspoken question.
Whether or not you take an offered cigar, the lid is brought shut with the hard clack of varnished wood, and the veritably antique container is thrown atop the desk behind the silver-haired naval officer while he turns to regard you fully, "I can't say I'm happy to hear that." He sighs, "I'm sure you've heard what our King has been doing. Putting out calls, wanting foreign aid." Shifting atop his desk, he glances over his shoulder at the windows, before looking back to you, "To keep things simple for you, he's intending to give leave of a Drinaxian naval vessel. A vessel from my navy, to help make this plan of his happen. And he wants it crewed with damned foreigners." He eyes you from head to toe and suddenly its every dress and parade inspection you ever had in your career, as if he's judging your dress, "And seeing as I've nobody else to spare- I want to see you on that ship."
He steps off from his desk and slowly makes his way to the nearby liqour cabinet, setting out glasses, and a bottle of Sindalian brandy. Uncorked, he takes time silently pouring a trio of glasses before beckoning both yourself and Captain Cho to join you. The Captain gives you his best showing of a reassuring smile and steps up to take a glass, "I've managed to get the ear of our King, and after some persuasion he's allowed me to put one of our own aboard the - "
Captain Cho clears his throat, and gives Lord Wrax a pointed look.
"Right. I suppose its still above your pay-grade until you've been officially brought aboard." Lord Wrax finishes his cigar, "So. A footlocker, plus your standard issue. Standard naval affair you're used to. Boarded up and ready by this afternoon." Extending the third glass to you, he quirks a brow, "Sound fair, Ensign?"
Kesperziaiepr, Zhodani Guard
The Pavilion, the Royal Gardens
Led further into the garden, you flex familiar and well-trained 'muscles' to reach out to the staff member leading you. You sweep over the surface of his mind, catching the points of thought and action as they rise up. There are the usual thoughts your experience has taught you to associate with proles. And of course you can only see what sets at the very top of his mind, actively in his focus. He is perplexed by your sense of fashion, and your claim of having been here previously is dismissed as something that must predate his time as royal palace staff. He seems more hurried to accommodate for the 'special request' that your presence denotes than anything else. Orders from the Princess, post-haste.
He gives another inoffensive smile while leading you through a milling crowd of... various sorts. You can see aristocrats and bankers, men and women hiding armor under suit jackets, and more brazenly dressed mercenaries. All of them are busied with drinks and meals but you are led through them as if they are so much chaff through the gardens, making an almost direct line for one of the Royal Palace's entrances - the one you had used years ago when here attending that ball, "Indeed. It is truly something else. His Lordship ensures we keep it immaculate ffor the viewing of those brilliant minds who come to study at the tower."
He affords you enough time to grab a small refreshment. A beverage, a sandwich. But he's still hurried.
As you draw nearer to the doors, the guards step aside and part them for your presence. The two of you are ushered into that most ostentatious foyer where you and other party-goers were brought many years ago. And waiting for you, you can see a curious assembled group of... individuals. To put it bluntly. Just as much outsiders in this place as yourself. In front of them, an attendant paces about while studying a datapad in his hand. The servant who escorted you clears his throat into a gloved hand to draw attention, beckoning you with a nod, "If you would wait here, sir? Our Lordship is certain to be with you shortly."
Urien, Dawappa, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr
Personal Quarters, the Royal Palace
The butlers and maids who were sent to retrieve you are, to the last, professionals. Your presence here is something they've had many days to grow accustomed to - some more than others - and so it is nothing but inoffensive smiles and polite nods or small-talk as each of you are assembled amid your morning routines. Most of you are brought singularly or in pairs, taken through the halls of the Royal Apartments to waiting closed-compartment air/rafts to be shuttled the admittedly short distance to the Royal Palace. Some of you arrive at the parking area almost on top of each other as preceding transports depart to get the others. Others were kept close enough that it is merely a walk across the street.
But in the end, you all are brought to the forward room of the Royal Palace before a pair of imposing jeweled - and likely armored - doors that you have been informed previously lead to King Oleb's court. They sit shut at present, with a duo of Hawk Warriors standing at guard in full battle dress as if the lot of you might decide to rush the inner most chamber after all the administrative busy-work you've been through. And you are all brought before a sharp eyed older attendant in robes that seem far more decorated and ornate than those of the staff who brought each of you here. Which is saying something, given the measure of what is around you.
His glasses - round-lensed, sat on the very bridge of his nose - seem as much for appearance as to help him read the tablet he has in hand.
He looks over each of you, pursing his lips, listing of names one at a time. Though as he lists off one 'Sun Mahan' he looks over all of you. And he frowns, clearly noting an absent with a disdainful grunt. Then moments later, behind your assembly, a throat is cleared. An attendant steps aside to 'reveal' the tall and lanky form of the bronze-skinned man behind him, addressing him, "If you would wait here, sir? Our Lordship is certain to be with you shortly."
The man in front of all of you frowns deeper still as he checks the tablet. Double-checks it. And, seemingly, triple-checks it before finding what he is looking for. "Ah. Very good of you to join us." He regards you all with a withering stare, "So good of most of you to join us in a timely manner." A glare shifts from the newest arrival, to one of the halls leading out from this forward room, and settling back on the lot of you assembled, "I am Herald Medan, of His Lordship's Court. I have been entrusted with briefing all of you before you hold audience with Our Lordship. I suppose it might be too much to ask that any of you know the proper manner in which to bow and entreat nobility on first meeting?"