1.0 - A Good King's Gambit (Closed)

[kostyora]

Lindsey tried to interject several times as the would-be ransacker said her piece but the woman's mix of apology, requesting patience, and statements of what she considered fact cut her short. She could at least sympathize with wanting to murder Urien, so that counted as progress. Her eyebrow raised in shock when she heard that her compatriot had been hustled into the king's presence without even something to munch on first. They seemed an indolent, almost hedonistic folk the Drinaxians, and she had been in many a court where a rumbling stomach would be taken as an insult. She revised her opinion of the palace's staff markedly down for such a basic mistake.

At the attempt to smooth it over with a smile she couldn't help but give a friendly smirk in return, and took the chance to finally speak. "Murdering Konicek wouldn't be amiss, I grant. If this is going to be a habit I'll leave some things for you when we turn in if this is acce-" She never got to finish the sentence as Eirene monkeyed her way past and fled in the direction of the bridge. On the whole, that'd gone better than expected, she thought.

But now to right an unspeakable wrong. A woman was hungry on a ship she was the Stewardess of. Unacceptable and unconscionable. She thought briefly about what to serve up before the mention of cocoa came to mind again, and her hands moved almost of their own volition first grabbing a tray and setting it upon the closest counter top. 'Powder, pinch of orange blossom honey, powdered ginger, cinnamon, and hot water.' She thought about adding marshmallows too, but left that to the Corsair's discretion, making up a little bowl of them with a spoon to accompany the cocoa when it was ready. While the water boiled in the saucepan, she turned her attention to the tray. Another few bowls first, then the cheeses. She wasn't happy with the choice she had, but it would have to do -- soft cheeses first presented as they were. Parmesan, goat cheese, and the like. The harder cheeses she cut into slices and cubes, and made the patterns she placed them in as aesthetically pleasing as possible. Next, charcuterie. She chose soppressata, chorizo, and proscuitto as she plenty of all three (leaving some of all three aside for later), and patiently wrangled them into shapes that she was happy with. Then, finally enough slices of good black bread, and she filled in any existing holes with nuts, fruit and olives, while filling the bowls with garnishes.

"That'll do until dinner. Now, Ms Kovacevic and her hunger pangs." Conscious she had only a few minutes until the cocoa was ready, she decided on a simple sandwich, using the remnants of the meat and cheese (plus some red onions and cucumber) on a single slice of bread. She had heard many of her fellows say this was the wrong way to make a sandwich, but she disagreed. Two slices was far too dry, and it was hardly her fault most didn't have the simple ability to hold the corners. Finally, the saucepan reached the temperature she wished and she whipped up the cocoa, depositing it all on several trays to carry to the bridge... hoping to whatever power would listen that Urien's machine or Astrid wouldn't trip her up en-route.

---

She had come late to whatever discussion was proceeding on the bridge and wordlessly dispensed her bounty to the waiting mouths. First, Eirene, her sandwich, and the cocoa she had made. Then she set the cheeseboard in the middle trusting the rest would know what to do from there, while she stood with her back to the wall -- content to observe and finally grease this dysfunctional band's wheels enough they'd get moving.

[Dastardly Tristar]

Urien merely gave his fellow Solomani a blank stare, chewing his mouthful of kimchi methodically as she shot back at him for a comment he made to his cat. Speaking back only seemed to raise the tension. And so he kept his silence, which was not hard to do with a mouthful of kimchi. Slurping the last batch of mediocre spicy cabbage down his gullet, he made his vote clear by pointing his chopsticks at Mahan, and left it at that. He didn't feel like making the situation worse by explaining himself, but made a concession when Eirene returned. 

"Well Captain Mahan, the ship is yours. But I dare say the direction is ours to vote, and I vote for Torpol." Urien nodded in tandem with Eirene's own assessment. 

He walked over to one of the panels and pulled up the ship's schematics, pointing out towards the large cargo bay and the various berths yet unclaimed. "And perhaps to make good use of our ship, perhaps we should start by seeing what kind of goods and guests we can accommodate enroute to Torpol." 

The man paused to pick Astrid back up from the cleaning droid, stroking her fur rigorously. "I know a man who knows a frog who knows another guy who knows someone else that might need a courier who understands the value of discretion." 

He continued to stroke Astrid, who settled into his arms and began to purr audibly. "We pick up some cargo, make for Torpol, and start to ask around. I might know a guy there."