1.0 - A Good King's Gambit (Closed)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Urien made the motions of laughing, following the act of Oleb along and yet remaining out of the spotlight. He played along in Oleb's little show, dancing to the tune. He smiled as Oleb smiled, he nodded as the King spoke and appeared bashful when the King spoke of cutthroats and murderers. He avoided the sycophant as a role, but nevertheless played the role of a submissive individual. Challenging Oleb seemed a poor course of action, especially as Urien noticed- he was bankrolling one hell of an expedition. 

A letter of marque.

The promise of danger and opportunity. 

It was getting harder and harder not to feel just a little excited. The waggling of his heart in his chest, thumping with coiled energy. He stopped his pacing and glanced down at the map beneath his feet. Admittedly he had been caught off guard by its significance. His mind had wandered not on the floor, but to the hidden alcoves and lurking shadows. A bad habit. He made a mental note to rectify his behavior later. 

Still, there was always time to ply his trade. 

"A fine offer and plan, Your Majesty. But you will have us to do the work of the Devil, I hope, for something more concrete than resurrecting a dead name on the lips of every merchant in the Reach."

His body shifted slightly to angle towards the throne. 

"I hate gambling with one eye closed, as well. There has to be a catch here."

Astrid, who had been oddly silent, suddenly got up on Urien's shoulders, forcing him to stoop, giving the impression of a submissive bow. Yawning, the cat leapt gracefully onto the map of the Reach and glanced at the jewelled planets with a faint, feline curiosity that spelled trouble. 

Edited February 3, 2023 by Dastardly Tristar (see edit history)

[Emmettmcglynn]

Perhaps it was the sheer audacity of the proposal, or perhaps it was his efforts to match the King drink for drink, but Mahan's head was spinning. He hadn't known what to expect when he was approach for the mission but a scheme to escalate the pervasive pirate scourge until their renegade vassals submitted to His Majesty's authority again was emphatically not it.

"Well, Your Majesty," he said out while hurridly gulping down another glass, "I can't say I haven't dreamed of Drinax restored to its rightful place as the heir to Sindal."

Not exactly the method he'd dreamed of naturally, but empires weren't built on idealism alone. Taking another glass from the server, he kept it lowered to continue talking. "Much like how like how Noricum united Thebus and Salif to create the core of the Sindalian Empire," he mused, "you wish to unite the old Kingdom against a pirate scourge of our own creation." A pause. A shrug. "Well, if the wave of ihatei has yet to convince them then a more direct approach will be needed. My skills are at your disposal, as your loyal subject. Though I must ask, which of our scout ships will we be taking, or have we salvaged some pirate wreck for this mission?"

[Niraverine]

Eirene couldn't give a damn about the political repercussions of the expansion of Drinax' influences but she felt not a small amount of satisfaction upon learning that her first assessment of the chamber's décor was correct. 

"No offence taken", she nodded at Oleb. "It's a fine and generous offer, Your Highness. Perfectly in the range of my abilities too." She glanced at the attendant meaningfully, and in case the meaning was still lost  - she extended the glass towards him. 

The short break that it caused was a perfect opportunity to think about a proper way of expressing one rather important thought that came to her while listening to Oleb. She nodded her thanks to the servant, looked at the sparkly wine with a slightly furrowed brow and then turned her attention to the king. 

"That just brings one question. How much of the loot should be considered rightfully yours, in exchange for the privilege and honour of carrying your letter of marque?" She smiled a little. "I like transparency and the lack of understatements." Eirene swirled golden liquid in the glass once more, tilted her head to the side and looked at the monarch with a raised eyebrow. How much he will say, she wondered. 10%? 20%? More? How much of it would be negotiable?

[Sneaksby]

Kesper pensively sipped his drink while the King laid out his proposal. As the others responded with their concerns he mentally reached toward the King, the man's sentient mind gleaming like a little sun against the lightless backdrop of his throne. Once again Kesper only dares to touch the topmost layer, plucking at the surface thoughts that bloom in response to everyone's statements to measure the King's reactions.

The agent wanted to know the catch, the navy man wanted to know where his ship was, the pirate wanted to know how the take would be split up. He didn't need to be a mind-reader to predict their first reactions. By the time the other three had finished, he had reached the bottom of his glass. Kesper declined a refill from the servant with a raised hand and surrendered the empty glass to him with a quiet 'thanks'.

Maybe his own response to the King's plan was no less predictable than the others as he began to fret over the worst possible scenario. His eyes roamed over the representation of the Trojan Reach on display under their feet, focusing on the Tobia Subsector.

"There's another possible consequence, other than the restoration of Drinax: a squadron of Imperial warships jumps in to wipe the Reach clean of us. And if the Imperials realize the Floating Palace is aiding and abetting piracy, a letter of marque won't stop them from swatting Your Lordship's palace out of the sky along with us."

Then he looks from Tobia to the rest of the jewels of the Reach as he continues.

"But with risk comes reward. A resurgent Drinax would be a happy outcome."

A happy outcome for whom went unsaid. This had the strong possibility of backfiring and goading the Empire into strengthening their position here rather than delegating the responsibility of the Reach's security to a tiny, decrepit kingdom. Not in itself an undesirable outcome for the Consulate...if the Imperial forces were being funneled away from its borders and trade routes instead of closer to them.

The only upside to that result is he'd probably be killed before having to endure his superior's disappointment.

"I'm at Your Lordship's disposal, but I don't think a scout ship or refitted trader would be enough to have the effect Your Lordship wants. Would I be right in guessing you have something special in mind?"

(PSI: 7/11)

Edited February 5, 2023 by Sneaksby (see edit history)

[kostyora]

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.

[Kiro Haas]

The Bwap's head tilts this way and that as it listens to King Obel's bold and grandiose plan, arms still folded together within the moist confines of the armoured kaftan. It takes in the words, digests them. It casually licks an eyeball as it ponders, tail flicking back and forth behind it. A letter of marque. Becoming a privateer for Dirnax in the hopes of restoring Sindallia. At least it would be legal, from certain points of view, and not the path of the truly lawless like that of the pirate or corsair.

"Good King Oleb," the Bwap croaks up, rolling it's shoulders. "What about worlds that towards Dirnax' fealthy, they bend not?" It queries, it's eyes locked on the overweight Human royal, head tilted at a curious angle as it observes the King like a hunter droid would scan it's target before taking the shot. "Murderers and throatcuts you want not. But of planets that to become Sindallian wishes not? What of them?" It continues, arms still folded within it's dripping robes.

The Bwap's attention is then drawn by the way Astrid leaps up onto Urien's back, how the Human adopts a submissive position to the furry quadruped, before said critter wanders off to examine one of the gemstone stars. The Bwap remembers the man, but not the feline. The Bwap remembers his superior attitude, his alleged charm, the way he could say many things without meaning or committing to any one of those statements. Curious that he would be in this situation.

"Urien will his superior introduce not?" The Bwap queries, gesturing at the cat batting at the illuminated gemstone.

Edited February 8, 2023 by Kiro Haas (see edit history)

[kostyora]

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."

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

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!

Edited February 9, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Astrid snapped her head at the woman on her knees, her eyes returning to its cold feline judgmental stare. She cocked her head curiously at the woman, and dipped her head down as Lindsey tried to attract her. Her tail flicked coyly, and she moved in a small orbit around the woman. When Oleb tried to curry Astrid's attention and affection, she jumped a little - his loud voice echoed noisily across the hall. She mewed softly and looked back at her owner, who chirped back in a bird-like whistle. Taking the command readily, the cat gently trotted to the center of the room, equidistant to the King and Lindsey. With a nonchalant glance at both parties, she begins to groom herself in a fashion that almost spoke out loud, 'Do more'. 

Urien himself had a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He pointed towards the cat, and at the amphibious creature's request, introduced their feline compatriot. "That would be Astrid, an old Nordic name meaning Beautiful God. I believe that needs no further explanation." 

He paused, and then addressed the Bwap specifically. "And I am her owner, not the other way around. " As he spoke, he caught the attention of the passing attendant and passed off his still-undrunk wine glass to them. "I noticed - apologies in advance, occupational hazard from a previous life - that the good lady declared herself the youngest. Typically speaking, eldest inherits, and if this being not too sensitive a topic - what happened to the eldest, and are they privy to this operation? Will they object to Princess Rao's offer of marriage to - and pardon - a group of foreigners . . . Mahan not withstanding." 

Urien relaxed his stance, his grin receding to a mere empty, jovial smile. 

[kostyora]

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.

[Emmettmcglynn]

The arrival of another royal forced Mahan to once again stiffen his posture and snap a salute, with a barked call of "Your Highness!", then remaining in the rigid posture until she was able to complete her greetings with her father and give him a dismissive gesture. Only when dismissed into a more relaxed stance did he attempt to resume conversation in a polite but insistent tone.

"Your Majesty, I am afraid I did not hear the answer to my question. Which  ship shall be put on lease to us, and how are we to maintain deniability if we are in one of our own scout ships?"

There were other matters to address, such as the apparent marriage prospect and enfiefment, but it wouldn't do to rush a King.

Edited February 9, 2023 by Emmettmcglynn (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

As if to confirm Lindsey's comment, Astrid melts into the floor, until she is but a mass of white cream with azure blue eyes blinking, licking her chops. She partially exposes her belly, leaning on her right side of the body and gazing deeply at King Oleb and Princess Rao. Apparently bored of them, she returns to a more interesting matter - a shiny sapphire that represented some such planet in the Reach. Meowing, she reaches out with an inquisitive paw and starts to bat at the gemstone. 

[Sneaksby]

This inordinate love of animals was a Solomani quirk Kesper had heard of, but had yet to see for himself until now. He watched curiously as the others doted on the little furry thing, competing for its attention and favor. Maybe it had some practical use, but he doubted it.

The two royals' announcement made Kesper's smile freeze on his face. By the Tavrian, marriage? And the Princess chooses? Did his superiors know about this when he was sent away? Were he picked, would refusal be a dereliction of his duty? He had expected to go home after the completion of his mission. Now there were talks of titles and marriage, of living among these people for good. It was a frightening prospect.

He forced his thoughts into order, again trying to analyze the situation. Everything he had overheard so far indicated this scheme was the brainchild of the Princess, not the King. Did he simply defer to her wishes, or was she the one guiding Drinaxian policy while her father was content to eat and drink himself to death? And as Urien asked, how did the heir - wherever he was - fit into this?

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Kesper only dipped his head and uttered "Your Highness" in greeting.

[Niraverine]

Eirene stood in silence for a moment, deep in thought. “The ship is on loan, understood”, she started slowly. “But wanderers are peculiar creatures. We get attached to our vessels. We maintain them, we augment them, we name them, we trust them with our lives. I am sure our good ensign understands the sentiment too. That leads to an inquiry of sorts – shall buying the ship out from the state be considered out of question?” She observed Oleb closely. "Not immediately, of course. At some point", she added quickly.

The slight bow that she performed at the appearance of the princess was stiff. She straightened up and looked at the woman with astonishment. The deal appeared to be far better than they initially thought. Too good in fact, Eirene noted coldly. How did that old Solomani fairy tale go? 'The hero gets half of the kingdom plus the princess’ hand in marriage'? Thankfully not the other way round… But why? Why would the princess be the architect of such a scheme? To keep the ambitions of someone who contributed to the rise of Drinax in check? To snub the old nobility? She simply needs a pliable pawn for a consort?

Her gaze shifted to look at anything or anyone but not the royals in case some of her thoughts showed up on her face. She focused on the cat. Silly creature. Entertaining but silly. It didn’t need to be careful in the presence of the powerful either. It could ignore them, play hard to get, even scorn them if it found it amusing. In short – it was allowed to be a contrarian without any consequences. She felt an irrational pang of envy, then realised she was getting philosophical again – and at least slightly unreasonable.

“I think you managed to render us all speechless, Your Highness”, she finally stated with a half-smile. “The best behaviour of a corsair might still leave something to be desired but I’ve been told it’s part of a charm.” The smile turned somewhat ironic but she bowed her head slightly in the direction of the princess nevertheless, then clasped her hands behind her back. It appeared this particular job would be the wildest of all she ever had.

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

Urien, Dawappa, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan
The Royal Palace Throne Room

King Oleb gives a theatrical harumph as furred paws start batting and fighting at the crisp-cut edge of the hole in which the jewel is set, "Damnable beast. That'd get you tossed in the dungeons, if I'd a mind!" But he's grinning, even with the shaking fist directed to the cat.

Princess Rao descends the final steps, bringing herself to the same level as the assembled crew. And even then the only two among you who can meet her eye-to-eye are Mahan and the Zhodani delegate. But she greets you all with that same crisp yet warm smile that nobles are so often famed for. Each one of you receives a nod of the head, a small hum of affirmation. At least until she reaches she reaches Lindsey. There is a brief moment's pause as she studies Lindsey's face, brows knitted together, until it seems to click, "Ah. Miss Zhukova. A pleasure, again." She brushes a loose strand of rebellious hair away, "It has been some time, yes."

But as things proceed King Oleb is quick to bring an end to discussion - for now. Or at least he doesn't seem to entertain any of it directly. He claps his hands together, "Listen, listen. The matter of the ship and the who's and what's of the legality of its service? Nothing to be discussed here, with bellies full of wine!" He gives a bellowing laugh, "My daughter dearest will be tending to that with all of you! Now off, off, all of you! Daughter!"

Princess Rao gives her father a smile, "Of course, your majesty. At once." And she turns to all of you again, "With me, if you'd please. A ride should already be waiting for us outside. This way." She steps past you all, giving Lindsey a passing hand on the shoulder with a soft squeeze before that same gloved hand slips away just as quickly and lightly as it came.

And as sure as she has promised, when she leads you all out to the perimeter of the Royal Palace, an air/raft limousine is waiting.

A man in a neatly pressed suit of Drinaxian fashion stands at the front, watching you all approach until Princess Rao ushers you aboard.

And is it all that surprising when you notice multiple  consoles and a mini-fridge are home to chilled glasses and yet more liquor? At least there are snacks, as well...

---

Urien, Dawappa, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan
The Royal Hangar

The vessel is masked from your view when the air/raft first comes sweeping down along the side of the Floating Palace. To your left, the sheer walls of her side, with only the occasional hint of maintenance-ways and hatches. To your right? Rolling clouds and miles down to the planet's surface. But as you draw closer to the Royal Starport Landing, a massive pair of shudders slowly part and admit the air/raft. The pilot brings you down quickly and gently, quickly rising from his seat to come back and open the door nearest Princess Rao with a clipped, "Your Highness."

Stepping out, she gives him a nod, and turns to wait for all of you to step out.

You can quickly realize just how quiet the hangar is.

The only sound are your footsteps. Princess Rao's heels against the metal surface, and the comparative herd of your collective footfalls following close behind as she heads to a multi-story tall chain-link fence with tarp secured against it.

A field whistle blows as you approach and it isn't until you are a few meters away that the gates come swinging open wide to reveal the waiting vessel.

She sits heavy on her landing gear, wings swept forward as if she is a beast pouncing down upon you, and the sharp end of the craft's nose angled down to the ground. At a first glance she is a fearsome thing that dwarfs all of you just as one would expect of a starship.

But a second glance... well, a second glance tells more.

You can see where her hull has been primed but not painted. Welded but not properly finished. Even now, a small group of technicians are hurriedly bolting on what seem to be the last of the panels necessary to conceal wiring and internal workings from the threats of space and atmospheric maneuvers. And when you are brought around to her rear, where the cargo bay ramp sits open, it only shows you more.

Princess Rao sweeps a hand over it as she leads you to the ramp, "So. This. Is the Harrier." She has to raise her voice as you draw closer to the technicians, "We've managed to recover her after all these years drifting out in deep space. She last saw service during the fall of Drinax as a kingdom." There's something in her grin, again. And this time it is a grin and not the reserved expression of nobility, "Its only fitting she comes back to us for it to rise again."

And at the top of the ramp, a man in a crisp and well decorated uniform waits for you.

As Princess Rao approaches, he bows much the same way as you all were instructed just earlier today, "Your Highness."

She returns a more muted form of the gesture, as befitting her station, "Lord Wrax. A pleasure, as always. Her crew have arrived."

The gray-haired admiral frowns, but nods, "Of course, your Highness. I shall take them from here."

She nods, turns to you all, and bows slightly at the waist, "I must take leave of you all. The Lord-Admiral will take you on tour of your ship, and I shall be in touch with you before long. Be well, corsairs."

Lord-Admiral Wrax's expression sours at that last word, but only while her back is turned, and as he waits until Princess Rao has reached the base of the cargo ramp, watching her descent the whole while.

Behind him you can take in the cargo bay. Gold smeared with grease, floor panels of corrugated material that let you see the myriad of pumps and wires and junctions beneath. On the walls to port and starboard the cracked or smeared or even mostly missing visages of long-passed nobles stare down at the empty bay with haughty indifference. The battered body of a drone lays in a far corner of the otherwise empty cargo bay and grease-smeared fuel lines have been run along the floor from reserve tanks in the hangar to the engine spaces on port and starboard side.

The Lord-Admiral has to step over one such hose as he steps further into the cargo bay, "I. Am Lord-Admiral Wrax. Commander of the Star Guard. And welcome, aboard the good ship... well... Harrier." He grunts at that, "To be perfectly frank with you all, we don't actually know the ship's proper name. When she was hit by the bulk of a Hierate warship's arsenal, it scrambled a good deal of her computer. We're fixing it, of course, and I have been informed," he makes no effort to hide the way he starts to grit his teeth for a moment. "that you all are to be given the pleasure of naming it." He turns to face you all, "As you can see, the ship is is in need of some work. I trust His Majesty already informed you that finishing up and getting this thing into a proper Sindalian fighting trim will be your responsibility."

He raises his brow and there's something about his expression. Mahan might recognize it as being similar to the face he makes during the graduation speech for every class of incoming naval officers, "Any questions?" Except he's even less warm or kind now.