1.0 - A Good King's Gambit (Closed)

[Emmettmcglynn]

Mahan opened his mouth to continue, but when the corsair said all he wanted to in a more civil manner he decided to let it lie so long as the Solomani did the same. With a terse nod, he glances towards the incoming music.

[Dastardly Tristar]

"They taught me in the navy how to keep a ship running and salute another officer of a higher rank." He pulled out a bucket and a mop from a cleaning cabinet. "They also taught me how to keep a ship clean in order to function properly. Judging by how unkempt this ship is, I cannot say the Admiral had any high hopes for us."

He paused with a grunt as he poured cleaning liquid into the bucket and looked for an open tap. "Meaning no disrespect Admiral, for your crews and technicians. They did a bang up job on getting the relic to fly on such short notice."

Urien turned to face Eirene with his characteristic smile. "I was Vilani for the better part of a decade. And now I am Solomani. Think of it as shedding a new skin every once in a while."

Edited February 15, 2023 by Dastardly Tristar (see edit history)

[Niraverine]

Eirene hissed through her teeth and looked at the Lord-Admiral grimly, then turned her attention to the other Drinaxian before looking at Urien again. "The ship", she started slowly, "is a work in progress. I'm sure that before we depart it will be so clean that you could put on a white wedding robe, roll through the corridor, and get up spotless." She rubbed her jaw again, with growing irritation. "Did the shedding of a skin accidentally damage few brain cells too?" 

She glanced in the direction from where she could hear the sound, trying to recognize the notes.

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

[Kiro Haas]

The Bwap's already wide mouth widens even more as it smiles at Eirene actually using it's full name, even if she horribly mangled the pronounciation, as almost any human did, but that was hardly her fault, now was it? Humans just weren't made to speak the Words of Wisdom after all. The amphibian was about to open it's mouth to compliment the Vilani on her valiant attempt, when that train of thought is horribly and violently interrupted by the screech of metal on metal as Urien's cat begins to toy with one of the drones scattered about the bay. The Bwap's displeasure is quite evident by how it's bulbous eyes start to blink rapidly in an unsynchronized fashion, whenever that horribly grating sound emerges.

"Urien, your cat, please away from drones keep?" It croaks, before shuddering and flicking it's tail rapidly back and forth behind it. It then proceeds to look between the rest of its' future crewmates, before slowly closing its eyes - the bulbous spheres retracting slightly into it's skull to present a more streamlined profile - and curling it's tail around itself.

"Diplomacy.  Of it, have any of you heard?" The Bwap mutters, before opening its eyes again as its eyes return to their normal state. The Bwap knew the value of diplomacy well, especially with worthies of any civilization or groups, no matter how small. And a Lord Admiral who has the ear of their employer - particularly one as notoriously impetuous as King Oleb - was someone that was best kept sweet, if at all possible. Not someone to antagonize. Even if he couldn't strike at them directly, he could cause a lot of difficulties for them by simply tying them all up in red tape. The oldest trick in every naval force known to any Sophont.

The Bwap was then about to turn and complain to Urien - yet again - that Bwaps do not shed their skin like that, as they are amphibians, not reptiles, when the tunes and jingle of a familiar piece of music reaches its' ears. It draws a deep breath in a gasp, jumping up and rapidly clapping its' hands together in excitement.

"This music! This ritual Bwap knows!" It warbles, jumping rapidly from one leg to the other in excitement, while trying to spot someone that is presumably approaching.

[Sneaksby]

"Please, everyone, be calm. We are not enemies, but friends." He turns to the Lord Admiral, hand on his heart, head bowed. "I apologize wholeheartedly for giving offense, Lord Admiral Wrax."

Kesper focused his psionic will on the calm and soft tone of his own voice. He guided it to Wrax, into him, infecting him, gently smothering rising emotions of anger and wounded pride.

(PSI: 6/11)

Edited February 17, 2023 by Sneaksby (see edit history)

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

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

The Lord-Admiral levels himself like a weapon at Urien, looking down at him - down the bridge of his nose, in fact, "I know this is the first taste of real power you've had in your life, Captain, but I would suggest humble caution." His face relaxes. A smirk when he mentions the rank. But then it vanishes. There is no more ire or fury. This is the calm, collected expression of a disappointed instructor who has faced every excuse a young officer-cadet can come up with for broken regulations. Aimed squarely at Urien, "A good ship like this will take you far, if you elect to go rogue and cast aside the King. You'll beat the salvage team to the crash by at least a week."

And then, his voice lowered, calmed, "In a nest of vipers, the wise man does not rush to find scorpions. You should know. Captain."

"As to who should lead this crew, Ms. Kovačević? And for others who will bother to listen: I would recommend Mr. Mahan. He's a dab pilot. Has the savvy needed of a First Lieutenant. He'll likely see captaincy when this is done. But, that's something for you lot to sort out. Not me." He claps a hand on Mahan's shoulder, leaning close to his ear.

He steps away from Mahan after a few moments, "As to your operations, I have been instructed you are to consider Drinax and Asim safe harbors. Though do not expect to be lauded openly for any piracy or black market dealings you have conducted elsewhere. And kindly do not bring Imperial pirate hunters to our doorstep, if it can be helped. But we are to act against hostilities in the system." As the music draws closer, he finally takes notice, "So. Lets be quick about this tour, then, so you can be on your way."

He takes you from front to back, in quick order, and starting on the lower deck.

The cargo bay is subdivided by internal partitions, and isn't the most efficiently designed. It suffers from a low ceiling, and you can see the scoring and damage to floor panels where statues and busts had been removed, as well as the reliefs of important Drinaxian figures peering down from the walls in various states of disrepair and recovery. Were it fully restored, it could likely be quite an imposing first impression of coming aboard the vessel for guests and diplomats.

The engineering spaces are split between two more-or-less identical spaces, flanking the cargo bay, with a portion of both M- and J-drives in each. One helpful point he offers is that, per recovered documentation, it was common for the cargo space between the two engineering spaces to be used as an impromptu maintenance bay or to be converted into workshops by some crews. One might even use one of the multi-function consoles in engineering as an emergency piloting station.

Ahead of that he is quick to point out the magazine for the ventral turret's missile launcher, the low berths that were historically used for spare crew. And, of course, the lengthy hall that makes a large portion of the ship's length and ends in the physical installation of the sensors, and the cargo scoop airlock.

Even as he walks you through the ship you can see crates and boxes. Footlockers. Paneling that is clearly out of place but quickly installed for the sake of appearance as much as operational safety.

The whole of this tour is capped with the bridge - the front-most portion of the second deck.

In many ways, the bridge sums up the rest of the vessel. It is the area that retains most of the spirit of what must have been the original design, largely due to the brass fittings and gilding having been scavenged from elsewhere on the vessel. Preference was clearly given to those items in immediate view, with those fittings that could not be replaced with properly decorative items moved to corners of the bridge or covered by discreet decorative drapes to disguise, the ugly, plain, and functional nature of the secondary fittings.

A railed walkway, with brass stanchions to hold when caught mid-pace by a violent maneuver. A gloriously upholstered chair with dark-oak paneled consoles to work from sits at the center of the upper bridge. There is even a receptacle on one side of the command chair for the ship's sword. Though it currently sits empty.

The remainder of the bridge has stations around the lower part of the bridge, where the acting captain might observe and inspire from above. The majority of the shipboard functions can be controlled from the bridge, the Lord-Admiral explains, with local controls present mostly as backups. The exception is the engineering section, which was typically manned by drive hands, while the head engineering officer would normally be found on the bridge commanding the operation remotely. All the consoles on the bridge, including the captain's chair, can be configured to carry out any role - piloting, astrogation, sensors, engineering, or gunnery.

The traditional positions have the pilot and navigator facing  forward, with the gunners sat to and facing to each side behind the navigator and pilot, and the engineering console at the aft port side of the bridge near the iris valve entryway from the crew quarters.

Finally there's the command office - intended for use by the ship's captain or the officer of the watch - to handle sensitive administrative tasks without interruption or oversight of other crewmembers. Its been plundered of much of its paneling and fittings, which have been used to replace worn-out or missing items elsewhere. Some original fittings remain, but the office is an ugly mess of mixed components, and might be considered something of an embarrassment with how quickly the Lord-Admiral glosses over it.

When it is concluded, the Lord-Admiral once more leads you all in the direction of the cargo bay, "With that being said, I shall now leave you all to it. Best of luck to the lot of you. I'm sure there are great things ahead for this, yet."

And finally, the source of the music is revealed for those who follow the Lord-Admiral to the cargo bay. The music still plays but it is beginning to wind down, and you can see three long and ponderous air/rafts have come to park several meters from the ramp. A small collection of humanoids in various dress move about, setting up tables and unfolding sun-covers even while inside the hangar. And seeming to orchestrate it all, it is easy to spot a Bwap bedecked in a myriad of jewelry, and a positively extravagantly colored kaftan.

Lindsey can recognize "friend Rachando" easily enough, seeing as she has had to deal with him ferrying her from the Hierate to Drinax so recently.

Upon noticing the crew, the muddy-colored Bwap seems to jump with excitement, throwing hands up and giving a croaked, heavily accented Galanglic, "Greetings! Friend Rachando I am! Excited for new business partners, to make!" And he starts to quickly waddle his way to the foot of the cargo ramp.

 

Edited February 17, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Urien's smiling face froze for a fraction of a second before resuming its jovial lie. He dipped his body in a slight bow of deference, but biting back a string of retorts that could start a series of international . .  'incidents'. He satisfied his spite by passing by Eirene with a sardonic smile on his face, and uttering a sentence only she could hear. 

Without lagging to hear her reply, he left the bucket and the mop to follow after the Admiral, taking mental notes of places that he could crawl into the ventilation systems, or simply hidden alcoves, nooks and crannies to hide behind. The more of the ship he was introduced to, the less he was impressed by it, although he didn't have a good opinion in the first place. As soon as the Admiral left, his entire demeanor shifted. Gone was the smile and the slight hop on his feet, replaced by a furrowed brow and a slightly bored expression on his face, and a slight slouch of his shoulders. 

"This ship is a bloody mess." He said, with as much vitriolic honesty he could muster, kicking at the broken droid. He didn't have much time to add onto his list of complaints before another Bwap appeared with music, jingle, a merchant's smile and an eager waddle. Proclaiming itself to be Rachando, Urien quickly placed his 'mask' back, smiling and standing up straighter, mimicking the merchant's energy. 

"Oh good, shopping. Spending money. Yay." He said sarcastically, walking down to peer at the merchant's catalogue. "Look, before anyone places an order - Do you have a cleaning droid, and what is the best model that money can buy?"

His words were followed by the curious mewing of Astrid, her tail flicking coyly as she sniffed the air/rafts for anything edible. 

Edited February 18, 2023 by Dastardly Tristar (see edit history)

[Niraverine]

Eirene strolled through the decks, corridors, and spaces with a thoughtful expression, hands stuffed in her pockets. Through the whole trip she stayed at the very end of their small procession, observing the surroundings and calculating. How much would they need to restore the vessel to its former glory? The results of her estimation were making her hair stand on its ends. It would be a ridiculous sum, she decided gloomily just before entering the bridge. She moved to the closest console, looked at it closely, and finally leaned on it with crossed arms then looked around. Once, it had to be a beautiful ship, she decided. Too ornate for her tastes, but beautiful nonetheless.

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from asking about the location of airlocks (just in case they’re needed!) and looked after the retreating form of the Lord-Admiral with another sardonic half-smile. Truth be told, if she was in his place, she would wish to leave the presence of the shady mercenaries as soon as possible too. She briefly wondered about the professional relationship between him and the Princess. Was it good enough that he might straightforwardly tell her what he thought about the potential suitors? The smirk widened to a full grin at the thought.

The colourful bunch that replaced tha haughty Admiral was a more pleasing sight, even if they painfully reminded her about the fact that she was absolutely broke after her journey to Drinax. She unenthusiastically nodded a greeting towards the Bwap but didn’t move from her spot and once more turned her attention towards the console. She stroked it absent-mindedly and then tried to power it on.

Edited February 18, 2023 by Niraverine (see edit history)

[kostyora]

She had been excited to see the interior of the ship but Lindsey felt a vague sense of disappointment, only made worse at her irritation at Urien's lack of self-control, undulating in waves with thoughts like 'This man made Captain? Unbelieveable.' She had known it would be gaudy, but she could not have imagined how much her eyes would be assaulted in person. 'It would appear the Sindalians confused overindulgence with grandeur,' she thought to herself remembering a book she had borrowed from the Captain of the last ship she had served on, prattling on about the transcendentals. But, it would do. Perhaps she was simply too used to the Spartanism of most Solomani ships, military and civilian.

"Yes, perhaps that is so," she said to herself quietly, heedless of who might hear her as her eyes landed on the slouching Vilani cutthroat looking insufferably pleased with herself. "Something amusing, friend?" She shrugged and looked back a way to all the rooms they had passed during the Lord Admiral's tour. "I suppose when we're done here, I and perhaps Mahan will have to spend some time in there," Lindsey said in a contemplative tone while jerking her thumb at the admin office that had seen better days as they walked past it. "We'll need a proper inventory if we're to do this well. Both normal effects and more... pointed effects. Does this sound amenable?" she asked the tall and taciturn Drinaxian who was here to watch them.

Lindsey performed a neat little half bow as the Admiral left at the same time as her eye caught the amphibian who had been her ride to Drinax, and unbidden she cracked a wide smile. "Rachando, you rascal. Just when I think I've emptied my pockets out enough for you, here you are." She liked the greedy free trader but she would be a liar if she told anyone she trusted him. The Reach was fine enough, she supposed, but she saw no reason for a free trader to have such an interest in the area without extra incentive.

[Emmettmcglynn]

Mahan mostly remained silent while the Lord Admiral spoke, allowing him to mount his own defense while silently taking note of Urien's brazen implication of stealing it from Drinax, save for an amused snort at the Admiral's whispered comment. With a nod and a murmered assent, he follows through the tour taking note of the myriad cosmetic failings that would need to be replaced or improved when he gathered the money to make an investment. Only when Lindsey addressed him did he speak up.

"An inventory will be needed, going by the state of the supply closet. I never made XO formally, but I have pulled double duty before. Trained to enter the government before I joined the navy as well, so I know my way around a spreadsheet."

Come the end of the tour and the arrival of Rachando, he leaned casually against the cargo bay enterance and watched the bazaar set itself up.

"Ranchando, good to see you again. There are a few things we'll need, yes. For one, a portable mediscanner with a chip for a Bwap," he drawls with a jerk of the head to Dwappa, "a trauma pack, and a first aid kit for the other five if they don't have one of their own. Likewise for a set of commdots, capable of subvocal. Additionally, an improved security software package for the ship's computer and an Expert level language package for the most common Vargr dialect in the Reach. That should come up to a bit over four grand, if my math is right and prices haven't spiked since I last saw you."

Edited February 20, 2023 by Emmettmcglynn (see edit history)

[Sneaksby]

Kesper buzzed with quiet excitement as the tour began. More than a few times he bit his tongue when he had questions about the ship's history or the functional purpose of this or that decorative fixture to satisfy his academic fascination. More than likely they had none, and he had no desire to annoy the prickly admiral further even as he shook his head at the ruin and inefficiency on display. It amazed him to see a warship's interior so extensively ornamented on a level he could only otherwise expect from a yacht or a luxury liner. He continued to find this aspect of the ship hilarious, but remembered not to laugh.

It was a great disappointment to see the traditional place for the ship's sword empty. He openly frowned at this. He'd read about it in his studies of the Sindalian Empire and had been looking forward to seeing the old blade as soon as he stepped on board. Surely if the sword had been recovered it would be there. Much like a regiment's ancestral battle standard, all of the history, honor and glory of the ship and its crew was bound up in the sword. Losing it was no small thing, and it didn't feel right to launch without it, or at least without procuring a replacement.

Leaving his new found companions to flock around the merchant, Kesper caught up with Wrax before he left the hangar.

"Lord Admiral, could I have a little more of your time?" His friendly smile turned to a slight grimace. "The ship's sword...I noticed it's not on its mounting. Were you not able to recover it?"

[Kiro Haas]

The Bwap waddles eagerly down the ramp of the Harrier to greet the oncoming air/rafts and the cheerful music that reminded the amphibian of its' childhood and homeworld, clapping its gloved hands together with glee. Its' wet and webbed feet slaps against the gilded floor as it approaches its kinsfolk. Dwappa-ta-pefoba-a-awapate-a-ka grasps the edges of it's kaftan, spreading its' arms wide while dropping into a bow, using it's tail to help spread the hems until the Bwap looked like an overgrown lily-pad when seen from above. It was an old and traditional way of greeting the merchant, showing that the Bwap was indeed unarmed, and intended no harm, while showing respect to the merchant who was - technically - putting their life and livelyhood on the line whenever they brought out their wares. Crime might be unusual and even unnatural to most Bwap, but that didn't mean it never happened.

"Friend Rachando! Friend Dwappa-ta-pefoba-a-awapate-a-ka I am!" The Bwap croaks out as it folds its kaftan back around itself and approaches the merchant. "A great pleasure this is, another Bwap here to be meeting!" It continues, a smile on it's broad and lipless mouth. "Much need for your services we have!"

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

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

Caught stepping away from the Harrier by the Zhodani of the crew, the Lord Admiral stops with a sharp clack of heeled boots against metal flooring, and regards Kesper over his shoulder for a moment before turning to more fully face him. He frowns at the mention of the sword, "We recovered it - badly damaged. And given its state, it was buried with the remains of the Captain who carried it." His frown deepens, "In a lead casket, unfortunately. But should you find the time and resources, I'm certain that the Tower can help in finding registry and record of this ship. If you intend to have a new one made while this ship is in your service, that is."

For the others, the Bwap merchant gives a throaty and warbling chuckle and rocks back and forth from his heels, "Familiar faces, happy to see, I am!" He regards Dwappa with an even broader grin, "And familiar this stranger is!" He is quick to bow and return the appropriate greetings, just as large and physically expressive as the engineer before him so the two look like a pair of showmen presenting themselves on stage. When he rises to stand upright once more, showing he is perhaps just an inch or two taller than Dwappa in stature, he quickly beckons the crew closer, "Happy of service, I am to be! Browse the shop, you must!"

Humans make up a large majority of his admittedly small staff. They set up tables, cases, displays. And even a rarity on the Floating Palace: weapons and munitions on open display. A few are even kind enough to scratch Astrid between her ears or brush at her tail fleetingly as she passes by. One is even so kind as to fish a pack of dried meet from a pouch on the vest jacket he wears, chirping for the cat as he presents a piece of salted meat for her attention.

Rachando nods along at Urien's words, and once duly instructed he shoots a single gloved hand into the air - finger pointed up - and turns about to waddle to the cnetral of the three air/rafts as if wordlessly beckoning to be followed. He opens a door to reveal a massive... circle. Easily four feet in diameter, sleek black. If a bit dented and scratched.

And upon a press of a button, it hums to life with vacuum-like bristles sticking out from beneath its edges, and four metallic arms festooned with a variety of tools and cleaning implements that all-in-all come to make the whole creation roughly five feet in height, with neon-green arms swiveling about as the machine seems to take in its surroundings, "Hygienist robot, this is!" He declares, "And because friend of Rachando you are, good price you are given! Cr150,000!" He beams.

At least as much as a Bwap might be able to smile, by typical human perception.

One of the humans of Rachando's crew is able to take over dealing with Emmet. By and large she's able to present most everything asked for. though on the mention of ship security software she frowns and seems rather hesitant to officer, "Sorry, sir. We uh... we don't actually carry much in the 'starship' department... " And she sheepishly rubs at the back of her neck.

 

OOC

As has been discussed in the shared chat, you all are more than welcome to brows the Core Catalogue. There are good odds that Rachando will have most basic things such as communications equipment, medical supplies, small-arms, and the like. He'll charge book price. If you aren't sure for something, you can just ask.

 

Edited February 23, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Cracking his fingers loudly, Urien's grin betrayed the next words from his mouth. "Rachando you son of a bitch." Though he followed it up with a laugh and waved off the light-hearted insult by producing a shopping list from underneath his trenchcoat. "I have a number of items I failed to procure enroute here; charge it to my card, I am sure you will find it satisfactory." Passing the list to the Bwap, he fished out a cigarette case and offered one to the merchant. 

"Toss in a Domestic Servant too. That robot of yours is nice, but I am afraid is akin to bringing a nuclear weapon to a water fight." He paused and twisted his neck around to glance back at the Harrier. 

". . .make that 2 of those Domestic Servants. This might require heavy artillery." Astrid chose that moment to mew in between mouthfuls of meat, as though agreeing with her master. He looked back at the group for a moment, hesitating. 

Turning back to Rachando, he cleared his throat and shook his offered credit card at the Bwap. "And I will pay for about 40000 worth of whatever these kind folks need." Looking back at Eirene, he shrugged and smiled knowingly as if to say, 'What?'. 

Shopping List to Rachando-Bwap

 

[kostyora]

"Most kind of you," Lindsey uttered as neutrally as she could manage with an attempt at a smile. "I will compensate you when I am able." Having said this, she carefully weaved her way around the ersatz marketplace to approach one of Rachando's human assistants. Bawapakerwa-a-a-awapawab were notoriously immune to picking up human social cues - and Rachando would hardly be stupid enough to incriminate himself - so perhaps she would have better luck with his flunkies. She also tried to suppress her childish glee at remembering the species' full name; they were a proud species in their way, and even if most Solomani could not care less about their good impression, she did.

She eyed one likely mark taking care to have the appearance of working hard while accomplishing very little in their employer's blindspot, and moved to engage them in conversation. 'What would you recommend? You look far from home, How is the honorable Rachando treating you?' and other such pleasantries. In truth, she knew what she wished to order. A pair of IR goggles (the improved version if they had them); 5 or so smoke grenades; a scan jammer; a suppressor; the more advanced model of accelerator rifle; and a few droppers of starlight drops. By Lindsey's reckoning, around 4.825Cr if Rachando's prices hadn't changed. If it came to a fight, she wanted an advantage. She knew her limitations as a sailor, and every sophont needed to see. Those few moments of blindness on their foes' part might save her and her new companions.

But, she would leave that for the moment. She wanted to know what Rachando's business here was. It was unlikely this callow youth knew much, but they might have heard some gossip -- and if they didn't let slip... she didn't mind playing the little coquette for their benefit.

Edited February 26, 2023 by kostyora (see edit history)