1.0 - A Good King's Gambit (Closed)

[kostyora]

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.

Edited February 14, 2023 by kostyora (see edit history)

[Emmettmcglynn]

Mahan let out a low whistle as he saw the Harrier. A ship of that class, developed in the glory days of Sindal, would outclass anything domestically produced in the Reach. Frankly, it could outclass most ships the Heirate or even the Imperium could put out in the present day for that matter. It hurt his heart - no, his very soul - seeing it in such ill repair and he could practically hear the ship weeping at its ugliness. Immediately he decided steps had to be taken the moment he had the resources to restore her former beauty.

Wrenching his eyes from the damaged bird, he turned back to the Lord Admiral. Mahan knew a sore spot when he saw one, and frankly the Lord Admiral wasn't wrong to be upset. It truly was galling that a Harrier-class, which ought to be a flagship of the modern Drinaxian navy, would be named by foreigners. Before any of them could come up with something and ruin her pedigree, he spoke up with a suggestion.

"Perhaps the Reclaimer's Intent, Lord Admiral? It certainly suits the eventual purpose of the ship, and wouldn't look too out of place from a crew of... whatever it is we intend to pose as."

[Dastardly Tristar]

The Royal Palace, Throne Room

Urien whistled after his cat, which bounced from the floor and found its place snuggled around his shoulders. Now ladened with his new living muffler that mewed after the Princess, he lagged behind to take one last view of the Reach upon the floor, drinking in the names and judging their importance by the value of the gemstones that represented it. He said nothing, but his eyes lingered on Drinax, and on the throne. What a prize. 

He followed the group out to the air/raft limousine, eyeing the obvious security detail. His eyes followed the gaze of their driver back to his mark, and for a moment Urien sorely wished he hadn't surrendered his arms before entering the Palace. Perhaps the Chief of Security had finally realized one of them was a legitimate danger to their Head of State. Then again, no one in particular was of the pacifist streak, so why her? He shook his head and entered the limousine, taking note of the opulence and laying Astrid on his lap. She made a show of kneading his knees before settling down, and occasionally mewing loudly for her queenly share of the snacks available. 

---

 The Royal Hangar, Harrier Bay

Astrid rose up from her perch around Urien's shoulders, but he carried her in his arms instead. As she protested noisily, Urien shushed her: "The floor is filthy, Astrid. Not now." Craddling Astrid, Urien paced around the interior of the bay as the Drinaxian officer stepped forward with a name for the ship. As far as he was concerned, it fit the theme of their mission, so he had nothing to say further. He did however, have a question of his own. 

"This ship was under the Sindalian Navy before it was dispossessed; I hope that, in the event we are scanned by the local auhorities, we do not flag as a Sindalian vessel. Do we have any options as to whose registry to mimic? Say, a local power that no one would be surprised if they were caught acting as raiders?" He paused to adjust Astrid in his arms, as she struggled to explore on her own. The struggle ended when she bared her claws briefly to prick Urien's arms. He dropped her unceremoniously after that. "There will be a bath, Astrid." he warned her, breaking eye contact from Lord Wrax. 

Then as though he hadn't just threatened his pet cat, he continued with his line of questioning. "Beyond the local pirates of course. I am sadly not so familiar with the astropolitics of the Reach. . ."

Edited February 14, 2023 by Dastardly Tristar (see edit history)

[Niraverine]

The Royal Palace

There it was. More suspicion focused mostly on her. Good to know the Warriors paid special attention to the most obvious targets, she mused. The irony here was that targeting the wrong person was already a serious security issue in her opinion. Not her problem though. Just another valuable information to be stored for later.

For Eirene this prejudice was just an inconvenience and an annoyance, but it could be used if she wanted to make some troubles. She would simply need an accomplice – one that was prim and proper. Not that she planned anything. It was just a habit. The half-smile was there again. She shortened her stride, caught up to the man and patted his shoulder condescendingly.

“You’re doing great, sweety”, she murmured to him with more cheek than she actually felt and entered the limousine with a low chuckle. She sank into her seat and reached for snacks. A poor replacement for a hearty breakfast, but they would do.

---

The Royal Hangar

So that was one of the catches. The state of the ship. “Yes, there are questions, does it even fly?”, Eirene murmured under her breath.

She eyed the portraits and decided to refrain from commenting. Instead she wandered farther into the cargo bay. She nudged the drone with her foot then walked along the wall and tapped her fingers on it. Sturdy enough, she supposed. She poked the closest panel absentmindedly. It dented. Slightly, but it dented nevertheless. She grimaced but then the ridiculousness of it all finally caught up to her and she broke into a maniacal grin. She could appreciate a good hustle paired with ridiculously high ambitions. Good King Oleb certainly was an unconventional ruler.

Eirene turned around, remnants of a grin still on her face. The ship was broken. The drone was broken. Lord Wrax was clearly on the verge of breaking. She looked at her companions and snorted. Yes, it appeared that the Solomani was broken too, judging from her still visible blush.

“The ‘Malicious Intent’ is clearly more along His Lordship line of thinking”, she grinned cheekily at the Lord-Admiral. “I hope you have a bottle of champagne ready. For the ship launching. It’s considered a bad luck if the vintage isn’t good.”  She rubbed her jaw and became serious again. “I might take a look at the computer later. I am good with them.”

Edited February 14, 2023 by Niraverine (see edit history)

[Kiro Haas]

"It flies," croaked the Bwap, in response to Eirene's question. The amphibian waddled forward to the front of the group - pausing briefly to give a bow (obviously shallower than the one given to the King and the Princess) to the Lord Admiral - to examine the ship, those large bulbous eyes wandering over the sleek and predatory lines of the stricken Harrier. "Bwap knows. Many ships, Bwap has seen. Damaged. Ruined. Pristine," it practically warbles as it's broad and webbed feet slap against the greasy gilded floor of the hangar, darting with surprising alacrity in and out of the crew working on the ship.

"Harrier is hurt. Damaged, yes-yes," the aging scout continues as it virtually hops and skips up along the cargo ramp to inspect an open panel where some Dirnaxian engineers had clearly been at work mere moments ago. A polymer gloved finger reaches inside, prodding and poking at seemingly random bits and pieces, while a rumbling croak and rapid fire clicking - not unlike a primitive Geiger counter - emits from the Bwap. "Bwap has with far more injured ships worked. Made them fly! Yes-yes. Hmmh..." It continues it's prodding for a moment, before pulling back the head-cover and neck-seal of it's kaftan... before literally shoving its entire slick amphibian head inside the hole in the panel.

After about a minute of this close proximity examination, there is a moment of brief struggle as the Bwap struggles to retrieve itself from the panel. In the end, it is forced to brace its' hind legs on the wall for support, before it pops free with a loud and wet noise eerily akin to that of a Human slurping up soggy noodles. From the ground, where the Bwap had made a perhaps undignified landing on it's gluteus Bwapicus maximus, it turns its' head to the rest of its' soon-to-be crewmates. "But for flight, it is quite ready. Bwap can tell. This reepa-reep-a-pefoba is flight-eager!"

[Sneaksby]

His anxiety was relieved slightly to see the special attention the princess gave to the prim Solomani woman. If that was her preference, they were welcome to one another. Kesper would spend the flight sitting in contemplative silence, leaving his companions to ransack the refreshments. New developments had robbed him of his appetite. However his trepidation was washed away by excitement at the grand reveal.

The silhouette of the ancient vessel sparked memories of his studies of the region's fraught history. A real, mostly preserved Harrier, still bearing scars from a war two centuries past. Even as he gazed rapturously on this amazing find it was easy to imagine the ship gracefully swooping in on an attack vector, bearing down on its unsuspecting prey.

It may be small, but its technology was a match for anything the major powers could field even today, a relic of old Sindal's doctrinal focus on small advanced strike craft over battleships (or any other hull big enough to give disloyal captains ideas above their station). He'd want a close look at its weapon systems. If they were original, they were bound to be potent.

"It's so...so..." He suddenly laughed. "Ugly! Even the parts that aren't trashed. I've never seen such a gaudy interior! Is it a yacht or a warship? Haha! How ridiculous!"

He pounded a fist against a bulkhead, its once gleaming finish now tarnished and hiding in shame under a patina of neglect. One meter away a tenuously-attached access panel came loose and clattered to the floor.

"I hope Dwap is right and the bones of the ship are serviceable. We won't accomplish much of anything in a museum piece."

[Emmettmcglynn]

Mahan lightly whacks the Zhodani on the shoulder.

"She isn't ugly, she's hurt. She need attention and sympathy, not mockery." He says sternly, patting the bulkhead comfortingly. "That's half our charge after all, getting her to be the pride of the fleet again."

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

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

The Lord-Admiral addresses many of these concerns as they are raised with the sort staccato precision one might expect of a military officer.

First, Lindsey, "Ion cannon fire, and a close detonation of a bomb-dumped torpedo. Most of her crew were dead before they likely realized what was happening. At least for the most part. As for traps or surprises," He squeezes his gloved hands behind his back, "we are not simple amateurs, Miss Zhukova. Don't let the size of the force fool you as to its capabilities - as I'm sure Mr. Mahan will readily attest." With that he gives the fellow Drinaxian a pointed look.

When the aforementioned officer speaks, there is an almost imperceptible shift in his mannerisms. While Mahan may be of a lower rank, he is a peer in good standing all the same, "The naming is entirely yours to decide, Mr. Mahan. I have been given explicit instructions that once I step from the ramp of this vessel, it is yours until I am otherwise informed." He seems rankled just relaying the message.

Urien is the next focus of the Admiral's attention. Though Astrid, in her curiosities, earns a mindful wide step to pass over and grant her space as he paces the cargo bay, "As for the ship's registry, you will be independently flagged. We do not possess the resources to reliably mask you as the agents of another polity, nor the inclination to have this vessel flying under Drinaxian colors. Yet. Any such resources must be acquired by your own hand, and used with similarly sourced judgement. Which, I am told by His Majesty, you are all quite capable in that regard."

Eirene is given a look over the Admiral's shoulder until his pacing allows him to more properly turn and face her without breaking stride, "Rest assured, Ms. Kovačević, that our lord's intentions are only for success. Regardless of what that might look like to any of us. As for christening of the ship? Well, I suppose for now that responsibility falls to the lot of you." He once more motions to Mahan, "Mr. Mahan can surely provide instruction if you wish to go about things in a proper, Sindalian, fashion."

Dwap earns a curious look, though an appropriate bow is quickly returned as protocol would demand, before he steps aside to allow the short amphibian free passage, "Indeed it is. Thank you for noticing. I'm certain the engineers appreciate the eye for detail." His tone actually lightens at that, "The finest minds of the Scholar's Tower have set to work for quite some time, restoring this vessel to even the state you see now." And then perhaps not as 'under his breath' as he realizes, he mutters, "And before long, it will be given proper place."

Though Kesper earns a hard stare. The sort of thing that might melt through the bulkhead of a Zhodani warship, were Kesper to trade places with such a vessel, "And this is the humor that won the Consulate the Spinward Marches, Colonel? Or perhaps it is why the Imperial Navy is so confident to hold it again come the next conflict?" He tenses up for a moment. Draws a deep breath. Visibly un-clenches his jaw. And then continues, "You do not need to appreciate Sindalian art and history, perhaps. But I would remind you that His Majesty has tasked you all with restoring this vessel to such standards. So I'd highly recommend finding such an appreciation. For the sake of your comfort while aboard, if nothing else."

He surveys all of you, "As Mr. Mahan has said: restoration of Drinax is only one part of your charge. The restoration of the tool by which the you will do it is another. A quick tour of the ship will follow, and then you are to set yourselves to your mission."

In the distance, echoing  through the cavernous walls of the hangar, you can all start to hear the faint sound of jingling and music.

 

Edited February 15, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Sneaksby]

Kesper looked momentarily surprised at the rancor of the Drinaxian officers, but his expression quickly smoothed into an appeasing smile.

"Ah, this is one of those times where I should have used a polite lie, right? Sorry."

He cleared his throat and spoke in a flatter tone, as though reading from a script.

"The ship looks very nice."

(PSI: 6/11)

Edited February 16, 2023 by Sneaksby (see edit history)

[Emmettmcglynn]

Sighing at the Zhodani's unintended aggrevation of the Lord Admiral, Mahan presses on to try and reduce the older man's stress levels.

"Thank you, Lord Admiral. A few questions, if I may. Firstly, are we permitted to return to Drinax or Asim in order to conduct further repairs and restorations or are we to maintain total isolation? Secondly, are there any particular objectives you wish us to pursue upon our departure, such as reavers who have exploited the lack of jump drives among the Star Guard? Finally, has the cellarette been stocked appropriately to conduct the christening ceremony?"

[Dastardly Tristar]

The Royal Hangar

Astrid slips between the feet of the bipeds, curiously sniffing the nooks and crannies of her new home. Urien didn't break his pace as he overheard the Lord Admiral's biting response to a fellow comrade. "At least our collective navies have battles to be proud of . . . yours has only distant memories and empty sense of pride." he muttered softly beneath his breath, inspecting the wall panels and smacking a flickering lamp. "Here is another question - Astrid!"

He barked, as his cat started to drag a piece of the broken drone in her mouth, mewing angrily at its weight. "Let the damn thing go, we will go get you a bird later or something!" He shook his head scathingly as Astrid continue in her effort to cause the noisiest distraction of metal grating upon metal. Her fascination with drones was not something the pet store owner had told him about. 

"Anyway- SCREEEEEEEEEE - what can your navy do against us if we were to, hypothetica - SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE - un away with this shi - SCREEEEEE - oh for crying out lou - SCREEEEEEEEEEE- " Urien walked over to the drone and with much effort, lifted Astrid by the cuff of her neck. She struggled, then went limp, licking her chops and staring back at Urien with the same level of indignation that one would, staring at a squashed bug on the soles of their shoes. "You stop that. Now." 

Astrid stared back into his soul with eyes that pierced the infinite. And then she mewed meekly. He dropped her, and she landed on all fours, before zipping through the ship again. "Apologies," he said sincerely, dusting his hands. "Oh yes, and to maybe get this show moving - once you are done answering our questions, get the hell out of our ship, would you kindly?"

He grinned back cheekily. "Oh, do not take it too harshly. We are very busy persons from this point out. Reclaiming a kingdom, you see." 

One you lost and couldn't reclaim yourself, he added in his mind. 

[Emmettmcglynn]

"Show some respect to the Lord Admiral, Solomani." Mahan snapped. "He's kept our homeworld in our hands, that's more than any of your leaders can say."

[kostyora]

"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."

Edited February 15, 2023 by kostyora (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

"Oh I am sure he has done an admirable job of allowing only most of Drinax be bombed from orbit, such that only the noble elite could exist on a floating platform leaching off of the backs of others." Urien said slyly, rolling up his sleeves and looking for a mop and a bucket.

"At least when we reclaim Earth, we can plant shoots and prosper. There is no 'debombing' Drinax. Face it, Drinaxian. Your state is on permanent life support, and we are the doctors that will determine if it is more humane to pull the plug."

[Niraverine]

„If esteemed Dwappa-ta-pefoba-a-“, Eirene took a deep breath with pained expression. Their naming and speech pattern was difficult to grasp. It was a good thing they actually met before. Even if the circumstances were… disputable. “-awapate-a-ka thinks that the ship is in good condition then I will trust them. Apologies if I offended you, Lord-Admiral. Sindalian fashion of christening is acceptable and a tour through the ship would be certainly welcome. That sound is a welcome party, or-?”

She side-eyed Urien with a grimace. That was one way of dealing with authorities – one that would only bring problems further down the line. She bit down the curse that she had at the end of her tongue, then clasped her hands behind her back and looked the Admiral in the eye. 

“Who’s in charge. Your own man? Or is it up to us too? As you can see, your king managed to gather people with... quite a personalities”, she stated bluntly. 

"And you're not reclaiming anything anytime soon, beside places that you've been asked by His Highness", she informed Urien boredly. "Didn't you pose as a Vilani last time we spoke?", the smirk returned to her face with full force. "He is quite a trickster", she pointed Urien with her chin to Lindsey.

Edited February 15, 2023 by Niraverine (see edit history)