Urien, Dawappa, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan
The Royal Palace Throne Room
He motions to the Zhodani amongst you, "Aye. It'd be a proper disaster if the Imperium finds out you're doing this for me. Which is why they won't!" He gives a laugh, "Those letters won't mean piddle until after they've agreed to the deal!" He nods, "See, I'm not going to offer to stop my piracy. Because I don't have any pirates or raiders! I'm offering to reign them in!" At that he looks to Eirene, giving an exaggerated wink, "So long as you lot don't go announcing who you're sailing for every time you come aboard? Well, we'll see a spike in troubles. And then ol' King Oleb will come in and offer to pull political strings and get folk to work with him to solve the problem!" And with that, he drains his glass again.
As he speaks, the attendant blinks and starts at Eirene's gesture, stepping forward and quickly filling her glass. He notices the bottle drawing empty and looks to King Oleb XVI. But before he can speak - opening his mouth to raise the issue - King Oleb answers for him, "Fetch us a red, boy!" And he waves the attendant away.
He begins to pace up and down the line you all form, with a thumb hooked in a belt-loop of his pants, and swaggering like a general appraising the troops about a coming campaign. Complete with vague gestures from the hand holding his empty glass, "Now you lot are smart to ask on pay and that. This one," he gestures to Eirene again. "is asking the right question out the gate. First things first, ten percent of whatever you make comes back here to me. Then you spend what you can on the colonies, curry their favor. And of course what doesn't go to either of those, or operations, comes to you."
He turns to give particular attention to Lindsey, "As for my navy? Well," He gestures to Mahan, "Your man here will be the first to tell you: we don't sail much at all beyond Asim and Drinax. But as for what happens if you run into them? They'll be given grant to help you in-system, but don't expect us to send what we have to run and start a fight on your behalf halfway across the Reach! As far as they know, you're independent for now!"
Though at the Bwap's question, for just a moment, his expression sours.
He sighs, "I'll be frank - for the worlds that maybe don't want to come over? That's on you to convince them and win them over. You hire a carpenter to build a bed, do you try and instruct him on what screws to use?" He raises a brow, "Of course not! You tell him to build a bed, and you trust him to get it done!" And that smile is back, giving another bellowing laugh.
Stopping at the rough center of the line you've all been made to form, he faces you again, "Of course, this all blows up in our face if word gets out. So you keep that letter of marque hidden away until we've gotten Imperial signatures. And, of course, the ship you're granted is on loan. You're responsible for repairs and maintenance while she is in your custody, but she comes home to Drinax when this is all said and done."
The attendant returns with a bottle of red wine. King Oleb's glass is quickly filled.
Oleb takes a moment, looking at each of you, "Now we do this right? Treasure. Plunder. I'll see you all made dukes and dutchesses of the Court. And - "
"Daughter! Get in here! This whole scheme is your idea!" He bellows.
And on that cue, from the spacious hollow between the back of the throne and the wall, Princess Rao emerges. She is tall - a side-effect of the low gravity of her home - and fits an almost perfect image of classic human beauty. Pale skin, deep sea-green eyes, raven black hair cut short and styled to be swept back. The dress she wears is clearly of high value, and quite formal, but the way it shifts around her as she steps forward shows that it is cut as much for function as form. Hands steepled together at her waist, she regards her father with a thin smile, "My Lord. Must I explain the meaning of 'clandestine' for you again, sire?"
He shakes his head, stepping up the steps to meet her, wine set to the arm of his chair as he clasps one of her gloved hands in his huge fists, and his tone shifts dramatically as he speaks to something just as warm but far softer than he seemed capable of, "That's no way to be, daughter dearest. A good architecht knows to trust their builders. You're going to marry one of them when this is through, after all!"
She gives her father a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek. And waits until he's released her hand and turned back to all of you, before she rubs at the bridge of her nose. Then - catching herself - she quickly lowers her hand and regards all of you with a bow, "It is - a pleasure - to meet each of you. I am Princess Rao, heir to the throne of Drinax. Youngest of my father's house. And, as my dearest father so brusquely announced, the bride-to-be of the King - or Queen-Consort - of the Kingdom of Drinax. Should you succeed in your endeavor."
"She's the one who picks, mind!" Oleb offers, as he steps towards you all, "So be on your best behavior if you've a mind." He reaches out for Astrid, opening and closing his fingers in a vague petting or scritching gesture, "Hey you. Come here ya' furry thing, you." His grin grows again as he tries to beckon Astrid under his hand. He's the King, after all. The least the feline can do is meet him half way for some head-pats - he was a damned king!