Hunter -- Logs

Raj departs the ship to try and scrounge up cargo bound for Skamandrios. Boros is a fairly straight-and-narrow place -- not the least reason being the large Alliance presence and the military shipyards on the nearby sub-moon of Ares. With the Russian canton of Muskovybir nearby, however, there's a lively "gray market" in goods that are regulated by Alliance customs. Thus, when he starts asking around for cargoes he gets a large number of heavily accented requests for carrying cargoes of sketchy legality to all over the Mishka Quadrant. Fortunately, none of the cargo seems to be in atomic fuel cell containers, plasma munitions cores, biological hazardous material units, SHARPS boxes, or other disturbing packaging.

It's while he is just wrapping up with one person who has several tons of mildly ionized iron ore -- the faint neutron signature is enough to make customs scream radiological murder -- that a man approaches the table, keeping a bit to the shadows. "I'm sorry," he says, in a sonorous Central accent, "but please forgive me if I am addressing the wrong person. You are Rajzendiranth Daybreak, cargomaster for the Scarlet Chimera?"

Raj turns and regards the man a moment, then says, "Yes, that's me. Can I help you?"

The man gets an air of relief about him. "They'd told me you were also Yin Xian," he says, slipping into the opposite seat and doffing his broad black brimmer. "It has been a long time since I saw another of us, brother." The man is about Raj's age -- perhaps a shade younger-looking -- with short, dirty-blonde hair and sharp but easygoing gray eyes. His skin also has the faint traces of silver that Raj's skin has.

Raj's eyes linger a moment on the traceries in the man's arms, and a troubled look passes over his face. His "trading face" returns and he looks directly at the other man and says, "Well, there weren't many to start with, and we were all put to hard use, I'd expect." He waves his mostly empty cup at the help, and asks, "Is this a social call, business, or..." He looks around. The place is a public eatery, a touch of a dive, dim and cool from the warmth of the outside air. It caters mostly to the residents of Muskovybir and the crews of docked boats, and it's fairly known as a place for cargo brokers to hang their hats at lunch.

The man shakes his head, smiling a little. "A bit of both, actually. Andrew Siddhanarta of Yin Xian Squad Kappa. Though as I implied, it's been a long time since I was in official service."

Though alert, Raj does not seem to notice any of the man's accomplices, if any, though there's one clean-shaven man near the doorway who's been mooning into his drink for the past fifteen minutes. He says, "Well, let's talk about business first, and get that out of the way. We can reminisce during the socializing later. If I don't get something to haul, my Captain will be quite wroth." When the server finally stops by, Raj orders something from the local menu and asks, "Anything for you, Mr. Siddhanarta, while we talk about your needs?"

Andrew nods and takes in a slow breath. "Very well. I will ask you to hear me out, please, and not try to kill me right away. What I have to say is, even to my view, a generous offer, but it is also the only right way to handle this situation."

Raj chuckles, "Well, no guarantees, but thanks for the warning. I'll try to keep my murderous tendencies in check until the borscht gets here."

Andrew smiles and nods. "I'm sorry, I wasn't implying that you have them. I think we're all reasonably balanced and well-adjusted people, even after the HUMOD processes."

Raj pointedly closes his terminal, making a gesture to the privacy of the conversation. He also uses that distraction to check his weaponry: knife, guns, borscht... "No offense taken. You're assuming all of us were that to start with, but that's neither here nor there. It's been quite some time since the process, and you, me, and us have had quite some water under the bridge since then... but you were going to tell me what business you had here..."

The extraordinarily spicy and pungent borscht is served; it can clear sinuses from ten paces, it seems. "A good point. Very well, then. As you have probably guessed from just my saying that, I'm here on behalf of the people who have been tearing up the 'Verse looking for Wintarsen. They... we are aware that your ship is the last ship to have Wintarsen and his lieutenants aboard. We need him, and we can't afford to be causing more trouble hither and yon in order to get him back. So. We want to deal." He spreads his hands a little. "Want me to go into more detail?"

Slurping a bit of the broth, Raj blinks once, then says, "Well, let's assume for a moment I know exactly what you're talking about. I can think of only two reasons you've come talk today, other than you're tired of losing folks on this op. Either you're going to offer me a bucket of money or whatever to get someone on the inside or you want someone Captain Skialdmeyjar won't shoot on sight to take your proposal in for discussion. I can think of a bunch of other 'black ops' and 'psyop' doublethink bullshit reasons for this meeting, but let's keep it simple for the moment. What's your pitch?"

Andrew says dryly, "Funny, they didn't believe me either when I said we should try it this way. No psyops, no bullshit, no shenanigans. It's not that we're tired of losing resources, it's that it's distracting us from the purpose of this whole operation, from getting Wintarsen out of Ariel Max-Sec to where we were before the Browncoat captain got frisky. Admittedly, having someone propose a meet to your Captain is a good thing, since I really don't want to be on the receiving end of a Mantis class blockade runner's underjets. Our pitch is this: we want to negotiate for Wintarsen and Danviere. We know Xin is already dead; we'll cope. We'll be as generous as we can with the plat, but we can also come up with less monetary benefits, if you're interested. Like, for example, a license for shipboard weaponry, for starters."

Raj grins, "Well, I'm thinking neither of us was one of the desk-jockeys, and the expediencies of field work tend to color our thinking... and vice versa." He pauses to nibble at the steaming vegetable stew a moment, then looks up and says, "I can't really give you much to take back except a stern 'I can neither confirm nor deny' and a firm 'we'll take it under advisement,' but you knew that. How would we get in touch, if we had anything to talk about and the Captain wants to talk about it?"

Andrew sighs and nods. "All right. That's the best I can hope for. Here." He slides over a card to Raj. "This is a drop-box you can send a message to from anywhere in the Quadrant. Send us your answer. But... please make it soon. There's a very good reason why we're in a rush to get Wintarsen resolved. I know you have no reason to trust me, but please trust me when I say that we're running out of time. And by 'we,' I mean the Alliance and the 'Verse."

Raj nods, "I'd kind of assumed 'worlds hung in the balance' and like that... or at least someone's end-of-quarter review and promotion. I'll pass this along to the Captain and let her know. I think we've all got the idea this was timely, though, and I'm sure she'll make her mind up quickly. Also, if she does want to talk, send someone prepared for a real sit-down... she'll talk your arm off. One more thing, and I'm sorry it's kind of a spook question. You got anything to convince her that you are who you say, and this is (for certain values) on the level?"

Andrew says wryly, "Well, all right, maybe not 'all life as we know it,' but certainly the Alliance is in trouble." He looks around. "I'll be ready for a sit-down. As for what might convince her... tell her Hoth sent me." He nods and smiles, apparently genuinely. "Hope to see you soon, Daybreak." And with that he's gone.

Scarlet Chimera, Wintermaiden Docks Boros, moon of Adarra, Mishka Quadrant

The next day dawns, the second day after the ship has landed. The silver-jade Buddha and the atomic dumplings have been off-loaded discreetly and Alliance customs has been none the wiser. As arranged, the crew has been invited to lunch with 'the Russians,' which in practice means a trip of about half a dozen kilometers to Muskovybir, the Russian enclave near Wintermaiden Docks. It is midday, and Molly has already volunteered to mind the ship while the crew is gone. Elgyn grins at Molly. "Are you sure? It means you'll have to eat your own food while we're gone..." he teases. He seems in awful good humor, for him.

Solbiort makes sure Molly can yell for help easily via comm, and will lock the ship up tight. She gets a grimly amused look at Elgyn's teasing, but says nothing. Molly calls after Elgyn, "Don't tempt me-!" before the hatch seals. Nigel goes along after making sure his patients are doing OK. He hasn't yet started the treatment regimen he got from Natasha.

The mule speeds through the streets of Wintermaiden Docks, the rough industrial-cargo setting giving way to warehouses, and then a small industrial sector, before the group enters a somewhat ramshackle residential area. Though well kept, this is clearly not a very rich town. Muskovybir is strongly culturally Russian, as evidenced by the Cyrillic lettering on the shingles which swing in the wind above stores. The ground is dusty, worn down from the transit of land-mules and horses, a large number of which are hitched here and there. The buildings are almost all wooden-sided, including the Orthodox church on a hill nearby, complete with somewhat crude onion-dome minaret.

Odessa and her brother live just at the bottom of the church hill, in a slightly larger two-story home that's kept in excellent condition. A stable nearby houses a trio of horses, and a garden appears to have a large number of herbs and spices growing there. Solbiort raises a curious eyebrow, noticing the horses as she drives the mule. "Hokay, ve're here. So, Raj, these friends of yours... anything ve should know about them before we go in?"

Raj thinks a moment, "Nothing out of the ordinary. They're a bit in your face at times, but mostly just being friendly. Careful of the booze. It'll knock you down and take your wallet..."

Solbiort chuckles and nods, "Hokay. Lead the vay then!" Nigel snorts at the warning about the alcohol.

Elgyn rolls his eyes. "Me, maybe. Which is why I'll stay away from the liquor. I rather think the Captain would steal the liquor's wallet... if it had one."

Raj jumps down and heads for the door, banging loudly on the jamb, "ANYBODY HOOOOME?"

Solbiort barks a laugh at that, slapping Elgyn lightly on the shoulder, "Ah, you're swai vhen drunk, di-di!" She grins, shaking her head a bit and follows Raj towards the house.

Elgyn follows up behind her. "Maybe. But I don't want to be swai just around anyone," he says in an undertone. It's not clear if it was meant to be heard.

The doorway is flung open not long after Raj raps on it, and he is immediately caught up in a hug that would seem to be delivered by a sleek bear of a woman. "Raj!" she explains exuberantly, laughing. Odessa hasn't changed since the last time Raj set eyes on her: a somewhat tall, athletic woman with dark hair and dark eyes.

Solbiort grins over her shoulder at Elgyn, then murmurs dryly, "Vill keep that in mind!" She turns back, watching Raj's uncharacteristic loudness with interest. Elgyn is just abashedly quiet at that. Nigel is sort of hanging at the back of the group of people, hands in his pockets. He's once again wearing slacks and a shirt -- the same one he was wearing for his consultation with Natasha. Watching that hug makes him take a half-step back.

Raj seems somewhat prepared for the onslaught and after he untangles himself from the woman, introduces the group, pointing to each in turn. "Dr. Nigel Aloysius Baird III, but he hates that -- just Nigel. Elgyn Musere there, and Solbiort Veledasdottir Skialdmeyjar, the Captain of the Scarlet Chimera. Pretty much the group that took the ship from the pirates; on your doorstep." To the group he says, "This is Odessa Rasmussen, best looking of the Rasmussen clan -- and certainly the least hairy. Odessa, you'll have to remind me who all the folks in the house are; I've a terrible head for names..."

Elgyn muses to himself, "I may have the simplest and most easy to pronounce name." Nigel tips his head in a damn near civil acknowledgement of the introduction. Solbiort nods courteously to the woman, unsure as to whether that sort of hug is for everyone -- or just for close friends. It makes her feel nice inside, though... it's sort of homey to hug like that!

Odessa snorts good-naturedly and cuffs Raj's shoulder lightly. "Don't let Oleg hear you say that -- he'll be insisting he is!" She beams to the others. "Privyet and welcome, come on in! I've heard the most incredible things about you." Her accent is of course familiar to Nigel: that of Muskovite Russian. She holds open the door, shaking hands with each in turn as they come in, or -- if they look receptive -- giving them a welcoming hug and the traditional kiss on both cheeks.

Solbiort laughs and hugs cheerfully. What a lovely lady! she thinks. She looks around curiously, adding amusedly, "Vhat you tell these nice folks about us, Raj?" She grins over her shoulder at him, "Hope it vas at least amusing!" Elgyn does the handshake... he's naturally reserved, and isn't the sort to go around hugging folks, though he smiles at Solbiort cheerily returning the affection. It reminds him of that time they came to Midgaard.

Odessa laughs heartily. "Oh, was only what we read in reports following pirate attack! Also heard of thing on Ashtoreth -- was quite intriguing!"

Raj rolls his eyes, "Vishnu preserve! Interesting! Save us from interesting!" Solbiort chuckles, watching.

Elgyn blinks. "I had no idea our 'deeds' made the newsnets." Solbiort snorts amusedly at Elgyn at that one!

The front doorway opens into a wide foyer, and a burly man who looks much like Odessa is already sweeping into the room. Wearing long black robes and a gold Orthodox cross about his neck, Brother Oleg is at least as gregarious as his sister, greeting everyone identically to her.

Elgyn smiles at Solbiort. "Well, the rumor mill I understand, but I never expected that we were, well... news. Well, except for Bellerophon. And Persephone. And..." He trails off, and sees how silly he's being. "Guess snipers would make the news too..." he mutters. Solbiort chuckles again, gently squeezing Elgyn's shoulder as she waits for Oleg to get to them.

Raj's eyes bulge a bit, "Yah. I think so too! It's not like our misadventures are secret."

Nigel shakes Odessa's hand and says something in halting Russian. The woman recognizes it, possibly after some thought, as, "Thank you for inviting us."

Odessa brightens at Nigel. "Dabro pozhalovat', tovarisch! Spasibo! Ah, who taught you Russkeyie? Your accent's very good!"

Nigel smiles wryly, hands deep in his pockets, saying haltingly, still in Russian, "I know very little. A dear friend tried to teach." He chuckles and says in his normal voice, "Never could make it penetrate my thick skull, though. Languages just ain't something I got much patience for."

Odessa beams. "Is fine, Russian much different from Lingua."

Oleg provides, "Da, was a great deal of news about both incidents! And am thinking have heard something about assistance rendered to Alliance ship in pirate attack as well. If keeps up, pirates will be sitting up and taking notice!"

Elgyn looks at Oleg almost excitedly. "Do you really think so? That might be nice." Solbiort gently squeezes Elgyn's shoulder again, giving him a rueful smile.

Oleg nods excitedly. "Undoubtedly, da! Am sure will be hearing name of Scarlet Chimera from here to Tortuga!"

Elgyn shrugs at Solbiort. "I'm just saying, dealing with some nice, simple pirates would be a great change of pace..." Solbiort sighs softly and says nothing, instead moving to give her polite hug and greeting to Brother Oleg as well.

Oleg returns Solbiort's hug warmly. "Captain, on behalf of sister and I am thanking you for keeping Raj in your crew. Though she never admits it, she is very fond of Raj and likes to see him happy and busy."

Solbiort chuckles, "Vell, don't know about the happy, but ve're vorking on the busy. If ve ever figure out the happy, ve'll vork on that too, ya?"

Elgyn arches a brow, looking at Raj thoughtfully. Happy? Huh. Could have fooled me. Then again, he is rather closed... which is not exactly something the rest of us don't share. Well, except for the Captain. He smiles a little, looking fondly at his Captain's profile.

Oleg laughs softly. "Da, is well! Busy can lead to happy! But come, let's sit -- Odessa will regale you with tales of her conquest of the herb garden while I finish lunch for you!"

Raj says, "Well, we've certainly been busy..." Nigel smiles a bit and bobs his head again, relaxing an inch or so despite the feeling that someone is going to ambush him with a hug and he'll do something embarrassing like squeak before he can swear.

Odessa snorts again, and shoos Oleg off to the kitchen, leading the crew to the living room. The room is snug but cool, with a nice cross-breeze blowing through it and with distinctly Russian touches. A samovar stands on a table near the window, and opposite it an ikon hangs from the wall. A small bookcase, filled at least partially with books written in Cyrillic, is against another corner. The chairs don't entirely match each other except in comfort.

Elgyn looks around inquiringly, admiring the decorations. He tilts his head to look at the book titles, inquisitive until he realizes he has no hope of ever reading them. Nigel peers at the books as well, tipping his head to the side to look at the spines and moving his mouth as if he's trying to sound out titles phonetically. Solbiort also looks around in great curiosity, finding the place charming despite being low tech. Actual physical books! And it's not blisteringly hot! Odessa makes sure everyone is comfortable. "So! Anything I can get anyone? Tea? We've some good blends just in from Georgia Quadrant..."

Solbiort looks a bit wistful, "Do you haf anything from Midgaard? If not, vill try vhatever you think is interesting."

Odessa thinks for a moment. "Midgaard? Mmm. I will check, da? Should have something!"

Solbiort looks hopeful. Elgyn perks up. Midgaardian tea is good, and he absently wonders if there are any exports at all from his home... he struggles to remember the tea his mother used to make for him, and the name escapes him. Odessa departs the room for a few minutes, leaving the crew on their own. Solbiort looks curiously at Raj, "Vhere you first meet Rasmussens, Raj?"

Raj says, "Well, I was working as a clerk for some big company and Odessa was a friend-of-a-friend. We hit it off pretty good and, when she heard how boring my work was, she seemed to have some outside projects now and then that needed a light touch and a heavy hand -- so she thought of me." He grins, saying, "Meeting the family was almost inevitable, I suppose."

Solbiort nods slowly, then smiles, "Heard that von before, ya. Sometimes everything needs a little... impact adjustment." She grins dryly -- these are certainly some of the friendliest Syndicate she's met! She murmurs quietly to Raj, "You think maybe they vant anything taken to Georgia Sector? Could definitely use a cargo for there."

Elgyn was busy leaning towards the kitchen, getting a whiff of the tantalizing spices floating out when Solbiort speaks. "Oh... that would be excellent," he pipes up.

Raj snorts and says, "I'm sure if they want something moved, we'll be first on the list. I'll ask though. Do we need something in Georgia?" He looks at her, his face serious, and says slowly, pointedly, "We must find some time and a quiet place to discuss cargoes. As soon as possible."

Solbiort is still for a moment, studying Raj, then nods, "Ya, to both."

Elgyn shrugs. "Don't know about need, but there's a lot of useful things in the system... places... plans."

Odessa comes back shortly, grinning and carrying several steaming cups. "Are in luck, tovarisch kapteyn. Had a tin of Midgaardian blackleaf!"

Solbiort brightens noticeably, carefully accepting the cup she's offered and inhaling with pleasure. "Ooooh... this is vunderbahr, lady Odessa! Sheh-sheh very much!" Nigel takes the cup offered him and murmurs a thank you.

Elgyn beams, taking his mug with alacrity. "Excellent. Thank you," he says, blowing on it for a moment, and then taking a sip and sighing contentedly. Odessa disburses tea, making small talk the while. She's quite skilled as a hostess, though it isn't long before Oleg calls in, announcing lunch served. Elgyn looks at Odessa. "Is this a 'grab your plate' lunch, or are we sitting at a table?" he queries.

Odessa grins at Elgyn. "Dining room, actually. Oleg makes too much to just have on one plate!"

Solbiort grins at Raj, having heard some of the lament about 'Russki Noveau' cooking. She wonders what lunch will be, considering how absolutely wonderful the pelmeni was -- especially when compared to Molly's attempts at cookery! She shudders discreetly at that thought, then follows Odessa and the others in for lunch, carefully cradling her cup of tea.

Whatever Solbiort has heard about 'Russki Noveau,' this is certainly not it; it's hearty, traditional -- Oleg would probably say 'authentic' despite having never set foot in 'the old country.' There's a sideboard with the food itself as well as a large pot of bread soup. No borscht, and certainly no Thai borscht. Solbiort brightens yet again -- real food, and in sufficient quantities?! She eyes Raj surreptitiously, wondering if he knows how to cook! She also cheerfully compliments Brother Oleg and Odessa on their wonderful spread, then tucks in with pleasure. Elgyn's eyes widen as they're led into the dining room, to see this food. "Bozhe moi," he murmurs. When everyone looks at him, he just looks wry. "That's all I know. Fellow in my squad used to say that."

Oleg spreads his hands in the middle of cleaning them on a towel. "Am very sorry, tovarischisch, for not having more food to offer! But has been very hard getting real ingredients for traditional Russian cooking on Boros."

Solbiort gives Oleg a fascinated look, "Vhere your ingredients come from, please?"

Raj laughs, "Why do I see more gourmet smuggling runs in our future?"

Solbiort grins cheerfully at Raj, "Hey, if ve end up vith actual food in process, am happy to accommodate!"

Oleg says, as he sits down, "Normally from other moons of Boros, or other moons of Adarra. But 'customs,'" he almost spits the word, "have been hassling shipments like that."

Odessa makes a quiet sound of agreement. "Same with printing. Impossible to find a printer who uses Cyrillic outside of Muskovybir."

Elgyn blinks. "Why in the world would that be? Food and writing... would not seem to be the most dangerous of items."

Oleg grunts a little. "Not dangerous, no. Is only Alliance wanting to homogenize culture. Most on Boros not liking Russians as it is. Have reputation for being 'shady.'"

Odessa comments, "Not like can complain much about that reputation...."

Nigel takes a deep breath, leaning over the table with a happy look on his face, muttering quietly that even someone sitting next to him might miss it, "Ain't like we ain't got the hidey-holes for it..."

Solbiort looks a bit puzzled, "Vhy vould customs vant to prevent..." her voice trails off thoughtfully. A moment later she glances between Oleg and Odessa and adds, "Ah... are shipments of ingredients often, aaah... tucked into other shipments as vell?"

Oleg nods to Solbiort. "That is part of it. Or at least is the excuse given. But Muskovybir, ah, entrepreneurs have not dealt in substances in many years, since before war started."

Solbiort aaahs softly, nodding... then smiles slowly. "Looks like goot market for ship like us then, ya?" Oleg and Odessa both blink at Solbiort, then look at each other, then look inquiringly to Raj. Solbiort cheerfully helps herself to more food while folks do the glancing-at-each-other tango!

Raj swallows his mouthful of tea abruptly and says, "If the Captain says you're on the list, you're on the list. Do you think there's enough trade between here and there to make a regular run?"

Elgyn shrugs. "Got no problems with helping shady people." What Oleg said about 'homogenizing' slowly hits him. "Don't much like the idea of folks telling people what they can and can't be, either." Nigel nods in agreement with Elgyn, though his only verbal response is a snort.

Both the Russians break into wide smiles. "Tovarisch," Oleg says gravely, "You do not know how much effort we are putting into preserving what culture we have in this little enclave. Da, am thinking that at least in mid-term there is enough. Will have to do it slowly so Alliance magistrate not suspect something amiss. But works well for you, da? Always will be something to ship. And I do not know if we can always pay top dollar, but..." he glances to Odessa, who nods, "Odessachka has said she can arrange for reasonable payment."

Odessa adds, "It is not like it is strictly illegal cargo, but magistrate of Boros has taken keen interest in assimilating Muskovybir into Central culture. Cannot declare things illegal, but can restrict them and tie them up in customs."

Elgyn is silent for a bit as he eats... it occurs to him then that this was part of the reason he signed on with the Independents. The idea seems to have slipped his mind within the last eight years, though... his goals have been synched with Solbiort's. He hadn't thought much about the greater questions. He hadn't thought about his people, due to the fear that always came up. And now by all inclination... well, he doesn't know what happened to Ulundi, but he now worries even more about their fate, from what everyone has said and is saying. It takes him a moment then, caught up in his own thoughts, to register what is being said around him.

Solbiort nods to Raj, "Vould be helpful to have thorough list of needed und desired goods, also."

Oleg nods to Solbiort. "Can get you such list, easily enough." He grins. "Eigor does what he can but he is but one man in large 'Verse."

Odessa comments, "One man with odd taste in shipping containers." Solbiort chuckles!

Elgyn says, "It's the Captain's call... but I think you've already got us on board, Miss Rasmussen."

Solbiort nods again to Oleg, pleased... and has a few more bites. A moment later she adds, "Considering our current on-board cook, vas great pleasure to have pelmeni." She looks inquiringly at Raj, "You know how to cook Russki foods, Raj?"

Raj says, "Not that I know of. It's not something the military thought was important."

Solbiort looks disappointed, but then shrugs philosophically and grins, "Guess should eat more now then!"

Oleg laughs. "Da, da, eat! Take some back to ship if you wish! Good food not easy to come by!"

Elgyn nods and looks at Solbiort. "Doggie bags."

Solbiort blinks at Elgyn -- then laughs! "Ah, ya... freki bags!"

The rest of lunch proceeds with no difficulties, and it is a pleasant time. Brother Oleg promises to get a list of what Muskovybir needs to be slipped through the magistrate's cordon, as well as locations of where to find the materials and items, and possible contacts, or at least contacts who might know where to find the contacts. As a bonus he provides a letter of introduction for one of the dock bosses -- a cargo broker of ill repute named Anastasia Sukhina -- who is likely to have cargos heading just about in any direction in the 'Verse. Solbiort is tremendously pleased at the letter of introduction -- expanding the ship's contacts is an excellent idea, she believes.

When they return to the docks, the crew finds the ship as they left it, without any marks or scratches; Molly has taken her security of the ship very seriously, and has been both watching the cameras and doing visual inspections from within the ship for the entire time. Elgyn actually gives Molly a hug in response, figuring she needs it... Molly he has no problem hugging. "Good work, shieldsister."

Molly looks a bit surprised at the hug, but returns it a touch shyly. "No problem at all, nothing serious happened; we weren't even given a once-over by the locals."

Solbiort waits until everyone's safely aboard and the Chimera locked up tight again... then finds Raj, "Hey. Vhat's up vith cargos? Somezing is gone bad?"

Raj says quietly, "We should talk about this on the bridge." Solbiort nods, somehow unsurprised, and moments later they're both settled on the Bridge. She gives Raj an inquiring look. Raj quickly covers the main cargo items, barely giving any details and revealing no surprises. When he's finished he pauses a moment, then says, "Only one more thing to cover, then." He collects any paperwork into a neat pile, closes his terminal, and continues, "...and that's the fellow I had lunch with from Far Thunder yesterday. They'd like to make an offer on our passengers."

Solbiort nods slowly and consideringly, her gaze thoughtful, "Hokay. How it vas left?"

Raj quickly covers the high points. Andrew Siddhanarta, Silver Wire, for the other side thinks the right answer isn't snipers and subterfuge, but an honest exchange. They know too much of the truth -- Xin's death, for example -- but not all of it. They're fairly sure Wintarsen and Danviere are here, and would rather "buy out" than continue the cat-and-mouse game -- besides, they're on some sort of deadline, and need resolution now. He adds, "I've got a contact point we should be able to get to from pretty much anywhere... and he said to tell you, 'Hoth sent him,' which he seemed to think would supply his bone fides. I assume you can make some sense of that?"

Solbiort frowns, her eyes narrowing. "So... guess they know ve are tracking them also." She is silent for a long moment, thinking. Several minutes pass -- then Solbiort sits up abruptly, with a gusty sigh, "Hokay, how soon to get all our cargo loaded?"

Raj goes over the results of his search for cargo. The offerings are laid out, plans are made on which need follow-up, and the other bland details of running a shipping operation are covered, "...so, we're not interested in the farming volatiles, but the slightly radioactive ore would be OK since it's barely radioactive and in secure containers. I'll look into that then."

Solbiort nods, "Ya, pretty much. Vant full hold, so fill up for Georgia first, then fill in anything for Skamandrios after that." She gazes at Raj quietly, adding, "This Silver Vire... friend of yours? You promise him anyzing?"

Raj snorts, "I promised not to shoot him out-of-hand before he finished his piece. I told him I'd tell you what their offer was. That's about it."

Solbiort grins, "Hokay. In that case, ve are going to run, Raj. Ambush is setting up at Shadow in about a month. Need to be there in time. Can you think of anything ve can put in their drop box now to throw them off long enough to get safely first to Skamandrios, then to Shadow in Georgia?"

Raj ponders for a moment, then shakes his head and says, "I think these folks want their answer quite soon, and they're not about to take a polite 'no' from us. About the only thing that comes to mind to give them pause would be to set up a meeting down the line, but that's got its own problems. If we don't say 'yes' or 'how much' or something else kinda positive, they're going to jump us again... not that that's been too successful so far, but that seems to be their MO. What would you do in their situation? Somebody has something you want, and you can't just take it from them, so you make a nice, clear offer. They say, 'Let me think about it...' so you do... what?"

Solbiort considers a bit more, then nods, "Hokay, how's this: ve set up appointment for after ve hit Skamandrios. Let them think that is vhere ve are picking up indep-sicles. Tell them they can meet us at... Newhall." She tilts her head inquiringly, "You think they buy that?"

After a moment Raj nods and says, "That's the best we can hope for, I think. I'll leave a message saying we need to confer, and to meet them at Newhall. I'll add some not-so-subtle questions about the money and other party favors they want to offer us, to give them something to committee about. Anything else we can do to give them the wrong idea?"

Solbiort thinks... then shakes her head, "Nothing off top of my head. Oh, vait, ya. Insist on guarantees of safety for everyvon involved. No more killings. Is vhat ve'd ask for if ve believed them."

Raj nods, "Of course. They'll give in on that, but you and I both know they can't say 'no' and will have no intention of living up to their end of this. You're planning on helping -- what's her name -- Kota in setting up this ambush thing? What makes you think she and her conspiracy are any better, or to be trusted?"

Solbiort snorts, "Don't. But am more than happy to say 'let's you and them fight!' instead of us getting hurt."

Raj says, "Whatever. I still say we should have put them off the boat at our first opportunity, but that's spilled milk. I'll contact Siddhanarta first thing tomorrow."

Solbiort nods and shrugs ruefully, "Live and learn. Next time vill not be so easy-going on taking on lost puppies. Also vould like drop box address for records. Hmm... you got anything else you think should be added for verimisi... er... veracity?"

Raj shrugs, "If I think of something, I'll add it. If there's nothing else?"

Solbiort nods and sighs, "You handle that, I tell others ve are running again."

Solbiort will meet with the rest of the crew and let them know Far Thunder is closing in, and it's time to zip off again. "Cargo should be loaded by morning tomorrow. Got anything left to do here, now is time to do it."

Elgyn looks unhappy. "Sure. We got room for another four passengers?" he growls.

Solbiort adds to Molly, "Gallery vill need to handle month of ship travel, mei-mei. Ve stop for Skamandrios, then onvards." She gives Elgyn a curious look, "Vhat you talking about, di-di? Vhat, the two ve haf now are not trouble enough for you?"

Elgyn looks dolefully at Solbiort. "Captain, the one thing we had going for us is that Far Thunder did not know where we were. Raj finds out that's not the case, he should have told us the second he knew. Instead we go have lunch, and give Far Thunder two more potential bargaining chips... and that's besides the Professor and Nigel's friend."

Solbiort gives Elgyn an amused glance, "Di-di, if Five Dragons can find out so much about us chust because ve vant to do business vith her... you think Far Thunder have poorer connections than she? Can assure you theirs are better. Verification statement they had for me vas somezing zey should not have known, und that Five Dragons still does not know." She sighs, "Am not happy about this either... but as Raj say earlier, this is all spilt milk. Issue now is for entire crew to remain alive und healthy. Need to focus on that."

Raj says, "Elgyn, if you think they didn't know where we were, you're out of your pointy little head. The only thing keeping them from simply popping us outright is our proximity to too many civilians. They certainly tried it when we were at the Indep medical outpost, and they thought they could get away with it. If they wanted to kidnap or kill folks we know, they'd have done it, and may yet. You can't just unknow folks, and scrub your past. It's too hard."

Elgyn looks like he's on the verge of losing his temper. The only thing that seems to stop him from exploding is the fact that Raj and Solbiort are double-teaming him with logic, keeping his attention diffused. Solbiort rumbles quietly, "Hokay, enough. Raj, you got cargo handled yet? Need it finished yesterday. Elgyn, your chickens all happy? Molly, Gallery all prepped? Come on, people... get out of here und get jobs done."

Elgyn takes a deep breath, and tries again. "The key word is 'yet,' Raj. If we run now, they might just decide to try. I say we agree to meet them right now, and see just how afraid they are of causing too much of a ruckus on one of their prized worlds."

Raj's eyebrows raise, and he says, "I'll take care of those arrangements now, Captain. Any hitches, I'll let you know," as he leaves.

Solbiort says, "Elgyn, have already sent false message to them to meet on Newhall. Ambush is on Shadow. Now is not good time!" She rises, "Got von more errand myself as vell. Elgyn, come vith." She strides swiftly out of the room. Elgyn looks like he wants to argue... but Solbiort gave him an order, and his instincts kick back in. He takes a moment to calm, and then follows.

Solbiort rumbles quietly to Elgyn as she walks, "Need somezing from Boros Zocalo for Five Dragons. You vant to come, you are velcome, di-di... but really need you to help vith prepping for ambush most of all."

Elgyn purses his lips. "You go do what you need to, Captain. I'll stay and do what I do best," he replies shortly. "What do you need?"

Solbiort says, "Need plan of vhat to do vith our invalids vhen ve come in to either Skamandrios or vhatever planet ve're headed for in the Georgia sector. Need shuttles stocked and ready to fly if there is emergency in upcoming battle. Need to know if you and mei-mei Molly need more practice on the vay to Georgia. Vill need escort from you for visits I must make on Skamandrios. Need everyvon to understand they must not leave ship alone, und should alvays be avare from this point on ve are at var vith Far Thunder." She pauses, considering, then stops and puts her hands on Elgyn's shoulders, studying him intently. "Most of all need to know you are vith me on this von, di-di. Am assuming my back is covered. You there?"

Elgyn does not meet Solbiort's eyes at first. "I always have your back, Captain," he says softly. "I suppose I should not doubt you. You have always known what to do in the past."

Solbiort gently puts one finger under Elgyn's chin, trying to get him to look at her. "Doubt is not bad, di-di, und if you vant to ask more qvestions later in private, encourage you to do so. Picking fight vith Raj, though..." she grins ruefully, "not so good, ya? Ve all need to be supporting each other in this. Vant all of us to come out safe und sound.

Elgyn looks steadily at Solbiort. "Questions do no good, Captain. I have always been your blade, never your advisor. Everywhere I go is somewhere you have already been, and it causes nothing but strife. And as for safe and sound... that outcome I do not know. Far Thunder's tactics are chaotic, their resolve questionable. The only thing I can promise is that I will die defending the ship."

Solbiort smiles quietly at Elgyn, obscurely comforted by his steady presence. "Think it is far better ve all live, di-di. That is vhere I am directing our energies as best I know how." She gently squeezes his shoulder, adding, "So. Take good care of Chimera und I be back soon, ya?"

Elgyn shrugs. He does not say what is in his mind... that if Far Thunder is as powerful as Raj and Solbiort suggest, he does not understand why they have not just taken them all out -- and that such an option is still not likely beyond their capacities, as they do not know what holds them back. "Every day since you found me under those rocks has been a gift, Solbiort. I will live, or die, at your side."

The afternoon sun is inching towards the horizon, with Adarra looming balefully in a waxing crescent that takes up half the sky, as Solbiort emerges from the ship for her last errands on Boros. The wind is warm and faintly moist, bringing from the coast the merest promise of humidity for the morrow and a balmy evening. Solbiort hms thoughtfully, glancing around. Good flying conditions -- she'll take the flitter-wing to the university.

Shortly thereafter she's relaxing contentedly, the wind caressing her face with its cold fingers as she swoops gracefully towards the university. She lands lightly near the anthropology building, in a clear space on the central circle, laughing for the sheer pleasure of flying. She grins and waves cheerfully at anyone she notices staring, and smoothly folds up the little wing. A moment later she heads purposefully into the building.

While not a regular sight, more than a few students remember her from the previous visit. As she strides through the halls, students either get out of her way, stare, or both. Solbiort chuckles, wondering wryly why folks are dodging quite so assiduously out of the way. She first checks the room she found the professor in last time, but if that doesn't work she'll try to ask someone where his office is.

That lecture hall isn't currently being used, and grabbing the first student she spots (a youngish boy carrying a cricket bat) results in a stare -- not at her face -- and some barely intelligible comment about how Professor Kali is on the second floor. By the time he's finished his confused-sounding explanation, the boy he's with is already reaching for the cricket bat with something approaching murder of the first boy in his eyes. Solbiort watches in slightly confused interest, wondering what's going on between the two boys.

The second boy provides, "Professor Kali is on the second floor, room 25; he's giving a class on Fringe language development." The second boy grabs hold of the collar of the first, who only now is just realizing he was staring at Solbiort's bosom in front of his boyfriend. "And as for you...." the second boy says threateningly, dragging the first down the hall and out of earshot.

Solbiort grins, "Sheh-sheh, boy!" She shakes her head -- Border Moon boys sure are strange! -- and bounds up the stairs. She paces down the hall with a wicked grin on her face, wondering if she'll get another wonderful cue from the professor as she listens carefully for his voice.

Up on the second floor, the room where Kali is teaching is less a lecture hall and more of a lab session, with a very small class. The boards are littered with words in a variety of languages, and ones that look very similar in other languages. There is, for example, a comparison of the word 'Language' in Lingua, Russian, Midgaardian, and Ulundi. He, of course, does not see her yet through the glass-windowed door.

Solbiort watches for a moment, curious to see her pretty being a professor. She wonders... is he happy here? If so, she certainly wouldn't begrudge him that... but she knows that means he'll never be able to be her horse. She'll have to content herself with him as just a pretty to visit at this port. Not, she amusedly notes to herself, that he's not a really tasty pretty-boy to have here...! She sighs faintly as she observes. She'd rather hoped Elgyn would turn out to be her horse... but ever since that time as they left Midgaard, where he'd said unequivocally that he could never be a horse, she's known better. It's a shame... but there it is. She can be content with him as her huskarl.

Kali is an enthusiastic teacher, with energy and a great breadth of knowledge. But it's fairly clear that this is just a job -- not his real passion -- as much as he tries to impart that enthusiasm and interest on to the students. After a few minutes, he glances to the doorway and brightens visibly. The other students glance to the doorway as well, and have much the same reaction the other students did the last time. One, in fact, who was in that last lecture, murmurs, "Here we go again...." Forthwith, Kali is dismissing the class for the day, and a few of those who had been in the prior class are already grousing about missing another entrance of the professor's flame-headed beau.

Solbiort grins at the students as she strides in, and hugs the professor just as exuberantly as before, swinging him around gleefully, "Nihao! Got time for dinner?"

He beams. "I will always have time for dinner with you, Captain," he says, leaning a little closer to her as he answers.

Solbiort chuckles throatily, inordinately pleased both that teaching isn't his deepest joy -- and that he seems to want a kiss! She grins, scooping him up in her arms before giving him a slow, thorough, passionate... slow... kiss! The small gaggle of students has already started to shuffle out the door, but a few are lingering and a few others are poking their heads through the door to watch, quite eagerly.

Kali responds to the kiss, eagerly surrendering to it. Solbiort sighs contentedly when she comes up for air, watching the professor with some interest to see how he responds. Kali's eyes are still closed when she breaks the kiss. He's got a blissful expression upon his face, his lips in a small smile and his breathing deep -- not entirely from the long kiss. Solbiort mmms with lazy pleasure... then dips him into another slow, lingering, enjoyable kiss! No need to rush, she feels -- a boy that knows how to kiss properly is a treasure indeed!

Solbiort calmly ignores the small group of watchers. Either they're clueless or envious, in which case she feels sorry for them but has no time to waste on them... or they're taking notes -- in which case she wishes them the best! Kali gives a soft, quiet sound of pleasure as he holds onto Solbiort, seemingly giving all of himself into the kiss; in the slow, languid caress of lips. Solbiort sighs contentedly again, straightening a bit reluctantly. "Vell... much though I'd lofe to continue, vould make taking you to dinner bit difficult, pretty." She offers him her arm, adding, "Vould like to ask your advice too, pretty. You know anything about jewelry?" Then she grins at the lingering and/or gaping students, waving a hand, "Hokay, show's over! Now go put vhat you chust saw into practice, ya?"

Kali blushes deeply, smiling shyly to Solbiort. "Dinner sounds wonderful, though you could kiss me forever and I'd never tire of... it...." His voice falters a bit when he realizes that there's still a crowd of students -- at least until Solbiort talks to them directly -- then they scurry out posthaste.

Solbiort chuckles at the departing students, then turns to the professor and smiles, "That is lovely thing to say, pretty." She leans in enough to gently nuzzle his temple, humming with pleasure... then smiles at him again, leading him out of the room, "Come, ve go to zocalo. You tell me vhat is good quality jewelry for possible valdojer, ya? Am needing most, I am thinking, a nice horse's bracelet."

Kali almost -- but doesn't quite -- purr with the nuzzling. "Oh, certainly!" He blinks. "May I ask who the fortunate lady is?" he asks, merriment creeping into his voice.

Solbiort grins a bit sheepishly, "Ah... not yet, shuh-muh, pretty. But am hoping soon." She studies the graceful young man next to her for a moment, her eyes doing a quick double-check -- no bracelets on the professor's wrists, no pretty collar on his slender throat. Then she says slowly, in a much more serious tone of voice, "Pretty... vould you like me to... introduce you to her, if she say ya to me?" There's something about how Solbiort pronounces the word 'introduce' that tells Kali she means a more... traditionally Midgaardian style of introduction. She smiles at him inquiringly, wondering if he'll understand what she's actually asking.

Kali is a trained anthropologist, and so he knows enough not to assume anything. After a moment's thought he asks, "Just so I do not misinterpret what you mean... erm, well, what do you mean by 'introduce'?" His throat and wrists are bare; and his shirt is a loose white linen poet's shirt, so there is nothing hiding in the collar or cuffs.

Solbiort smiles, lightly running a finger of her free hand down his throat, "Think she might enjoy you also, pretty. You know what I mean if I say 'pleasure pony' or 'horse'?"

Kali half-closes his eyes, lifting up his chin a bit to bare his throat to the caress; he shivers a little under the touch of her finger. "I... yes, I know the difference..."

Solbiort smiles quietly, enormously pleased at his response -- both physical and spoken. "Then I take that as ya, for meeting my valdojer." She chuckles softly, then takes a deep breath, "But. Duty first, pleasure later! Come -- to zocalo!" She'll hustle him off with her.

Soon thereafter the two of them are at the Boros zocalo, located about halfway between the university and the bustling port. Fortunately for Kali's peace of mind it's close enough to walk -- and Solbiort explains what she's looking for, using her own horse's band as an example. She also walks the professor slowly along, lingering to look at various types of jewelry as she's talking to him -- she wants to see what attracts his eye as well. He's been such a sweetie that she'd like to get him a pretty bauble to wear from her too!

Kali understands what she's looking for, and asks questions regarding what Solbiort particularly wants -- something traditionally Midgaardian; something more or less subtle? While they try to narrow down what she is looking for, she notices his eye being caught occasionally by rather sparkly jewelry, or more muted rather than bold colors but of glittery metals; in particular, certain anklets seem to catch his attention. Soli answers thoughtfully, keeping Five Dragons in mind as she does so. Something slightly subtler, that a Central woman might find pleasing, perhaps? She hmms thoughtfully at what the professor's eyes seem attracted to. Metal is a serious no-no on Midgaard due to its ability to steal desperately needed body heat... but perhaps a bright cloisonné or mosaic would please him?

Solbiort will casually pick up an anklet she thinks the professor might like, with a small sound of pleasure. She slides the delicate carven chain along her fingers, half-watching to see how he responds... though his eye is usually attracted to metal, one particular cloisonné anklet she shows him does get his attention immediately. Then he looks at her curiously. "I... thought you were looking for a bracelet? For your valdojer?"

Solbiort smiles at the smaller man, "I am, pretty... but vanted also to find other pretties. Moment, please." She purchases the pretty anklet and tucks the package into her belt, then turns, grinning delightedly, and scoops the professor up. "Couldn't resist, shuh-muh!" She laughs, settling him gently on the counter and tapping his right knee. "Take off shoe please, pretty Lexi? Vant to put present on you!" This part of the zocalo isn't unfamiliar to these sorts of displays, but Kali certainly is. His eyes widen -- then, blushing shyly and with excitement dancing in his eyes, he reaches down to tug off his right shoe.

Solbiort chuckles, lightly brushing his long hair back as he leans forward. When he's done she'll gently take his foot in her hand, setting it across his other thigh. Then, with a bit of ceremony, she pulls out the anklet, lays it across his ankle for a moment so they can both admire it... then carefully fastens it on. She gently runs her fingers along his foot, then looks up and smiles at the professor, her emerald eyes warm, "Is small thing for pleasure you haf given me... but hope you enjoy it, pretty Lexi."

Kali is blushing the whole while, watching her put the anklet on him with rapt attention. Once she's fastened it he leans down to tentatively hug her, letting her deepen the embrace if she so chooses. "Thank you," he whispers. "I do enjoy it! I'll wear it always, to remember you." Solbiort's smile warms, and she's happy to hug him close and tight for as long as he wants. She gently strokes the back of his head, enjoying the moment. He shivers a little, sighing comfortably and melting into the embrace, his head moving just a little bit to rub against her hand as she strokes his hair.

Solbiort gently kisses his temple, wishing a bit wistfully she could take him along with her to the Georgia sector. He'd probably love it out there -- all the Fringe worlds and cultures... but it would currently be irresponsible of her. She smiles, murmuring softly, "So, lovely... help me find good horse's bracelet now, hmm?" He murmurs assent, smiling and with eyes bright, just barely remembering to put his shoe back on.

Solbiort, with Kali's help, narrows down the choices to three attractive bracelets. She's drawn to the color on the golden one, but at discovering it actually is metal surfacing on the bracelet, she puts it aside. That leaves two: a smooth, elegant bracelet of a shimmering mineral substance, and a pale, pale green jade bracelet with decorative incisions along the sides. Solbiort smiles quietly, putting Kali at the counter with the two bracelets in front of him. She stands directly behind him, acutely aware of the pleasant warmth of his body against hers, and rests her hands on the counter, sort of gently bracketing him there. She tilts her head enough to softly murmur to him, "Vhich you think is lovelier, my pretty?"

Kali considers, looking at the two bracelets as he curls a lock of hair around his finger. The closeness is only mildly distracting and definitely not unwelcome, as he leans a very little back against her warmth. "Mmm... what color are her eyes?" he murmurs to her. "Blue might clash with the green jade..."

Solbiort slides her hands lightly down his front as he leans against her, "Mmm, true. She is shorter than you, vith dark jet hair und bright blue eyes." She smiles slowly against his cheek, adding softly, "Try the shimmery von on, pretty..."

He takes in a slow, deep breath as she puts her arms around him, his concentration being quite severely damaged. "Are... are you su-" He breaks off asking if she's sure; he can already tell she is. Hands shaking a little, he picks up the shimmery bracelet and slips it onto his wrist, holding it out for Solbiort to examine.

Solbiort practically purrs, she's so pleased, and her hands tighten a bit on Kali. She just stands so for a few seconds, savoring the sensuality of the moment and the pleasure of Kali's understanding of what she's asking of him... then she pulls herself together a bit. Overt displays of sexual affection would be inappropriate here -- fun though they might be! She strokes her hands along Kali one long, lazy last time... then nods slowly, her voice husky, "Ya, that von. I am sure."

He shivers in her arms, a tiny moan escaping from the back of his throat, then he too seems to regain some composure, nodding and moistening suddenly dry lips. "Oh... oh, good," he murmurs, smiling to her even though he can't look over his shoulder to her.

Solbiort will buy the bracelet, tucking the brightly colored little package carefully away on her belt. Then she takes Kali's hand, still alight with pleasure, "Come, ve haf dinner now, ya? Am not going to be able to see you or lofely lady for at least two months due to flight plans... so vant to enjoy you tonight before I must go." She takes Kali out to a nice restaurant of his choice, cheerfully teasing and distracting him to breathlessness during dinner. When she's pretty sure he can't wait any longer (and she knows she doesn't want to!) she takes him to his nearby home, and they spend a brisk and very enjoyable night together. Some time after midnight, when he's exhaustedly asleep, she takes a shower, dresses, gives him a gentle kiss... then slips out. The evening chill is very pleasant to her, and she strides along swiftly, exuberant with life. First to the university to collect the wing... then back to the ship.

As Solbiort is heading down the street approaching the university, she passes a number of food-stands, still lively even this late at night and this far from the docks. All are relatively busy, with a few people at each having noodles or kebabs or bread soup or whatever that particular stand's specialty is. This one in particular seems to be serving some kind of ale along with vegetable-curry bowls. At about the same time that she notices one hand having silvery markings much like Raj's, the clean-shaven, tidy young man who belongs to that hand turns and blinks at Solbiort for several moments.

Solbiort gives him a politely inquiring look as she paces along. She's used to being stared at, although something about him is tugging at her memory... then she pauses, brightening at the sight of good amber ale! She abruptly turns in, cheerfully bellowing a demand for ale over the chatter of the other clients. The man is still looking curiously at Solbiort, and just as she is served the ale he sets his mug down and asks rather cautiously, "Captain... Captain Skialdmeyjar?"

Solbiort sighs contentedly, leaning back against the stand and sipping her ale. Now then... why does that young man make her feel like she should know him? She eyes him over the edge of the mug and rumbles, "Who's asking?"

The man goes a touch pale and takes in a short breath, then nods. "Sorry to interrupt your evening repast, Captain. My name is Andrew Siddhanarta. Judging from some mail that was dropped earlier today, I think Raj Daybreak mentioned me to you."

Solbiort is sipping her ale as he replies -- but as everything goes click together in her brain she reflexively does a spit-take -- all over the young man! The man goes "Gack!" and just as reflexively tries to duck out of the line of fire -- a bit too late. Solbiort stands there, staring at him for a tiny fraction of a second -- then just as reflexively, she brings her fist up (still holding the mug) in a powerful roundhouse to his chin! The blow catches the unsuspecting agent of Far Thunder on the chin and bodily lifts him up off his chair and back several feet onto the ground, a look of surprise somewhere within the mess of ale.

Solbiort blinks, looking at him, then at her mug. She mutters, "Now vhat I do that for?" then sighs, setting the now-empty mug on the counter. To the other patrons she simply says authoritatively, "He owes me plat." She steps warily over to the man's body, unsure if he's unconscious but ready to clobber him if he tries anything.

The man seems to have taken the blow and remained conscious, and is starting to sit up, rubbing his jaw and looking rather incredulously at Solbiort. "Gorrammit!" he mutters. "Ta me da; gwai-gwai long duh dong?"

Solbiort stands there, hands on her hips as she regards him. Well, I'm going to have to talk to him now... need to convince him this was an accident. She snorts to herself -- no one believes that one unfortunately, even when it's true. She sighs, dropping to one knee so her right side is away from the observers and facing him. He can see her hand on her pistol as she says quietly, "I over-reacted; shuh-muh. Don't surprise me again, ya? Vhat you vant? Und keep your hands vhere I can see them, ya?" Her words are just for him, pitched so the food stand clients can't hear. She's extremely tense, listening carefully for his suspected backup behind her.

"Ja, ja, I will, I will," he says wearily. Despite dropping her voice, the other patrons are watching curiously. He finally seems to clear his head. "Well, getting clobbered like that wasn't what I was looking for. But all right, no more surprises. Gah, I told him this was exactly why I didn't want to approach you first." He winces, rubbing his jaw. "Wuh tzai chien shr ee-ding ruh dao shuh-muh run luh bah...."

Solbiort feels like her hackles are raising -- she's acutely uncomfortable here with her back uncovered! She growls quietly, "Look, you got somezing to say, here is not place for it!" She shifts smoothly to her feet and back a few steps, looking around warily for his backup, then glares at him, "You vant to talk this out, then drop weapons real slow und get up!"

He glowers mildly reprovingly at Solbiort. "Ai ya, all right, all right! Kao...." He parts his jacket, making sure she can watch him as he slowly pulls out a suoshi autorevolver from an underarm holster and sets it on the ground. Solbiort blinks, suddenly registering his word choice -- 'ja'? That's... Midgaardian only, as far as she knows! But that accent... isn't it... Central surely? She watches him warily, her brain correcting her initial assessment. Sort of Germanic sounding -- not really Midgaardian. She jerks her head in a single tense nod, then tilts it to indicate the direction he should move in.

Solbiort will cautiously scoop up his pistol once he's moved away from it, checking to see if there's one in the chamber and if the safety is off or not. He peels himself up off the ground as Solbiort checks the revolver. Autorevolvers tend to be failsafe, so there's a full load of six in the cylinder. The safety is on, however. Solbiort flicks it to off and steps up quietly behind the man, running one hand over his body for a quick frisk for other weaponry. She murmurs softly, "Be still, please," as she does so.

The man sighs a little bit but makes no movement as she frisks him. "I don't suppose you have a towel when you get a chance?" he asks. "This isn't normally how I like to take in a good ale."

Solbiort gives a small snort of laughter... then sighs herself, stepping back a bit and to the side so he can see her, to be polite. She mutters to herself, "Now vhat, bright girl..." as she studies the man. She can't just hand him his gun back and walk away... maybe if she toss- wait. Didn't he want to talk or something? He glances briefly at her as she steps into sight, but returns to his carefully neutral, not-going-anywhere-not-touching-anything stance. Solbiort tilts her head warily at him, although the almost teeth-bared tension is somewhat abated now. "Ya, ask food-stand boy for von." She studies him intently. Silver Wire... she saw how Raj can run. If this guy splits she should let him go; not shoot at him. If he wants to talk... he'll stick around. She steps back slightly.

He holds out his left arm, murmuring, "Forearm sheath." Then he glances to the guy at the food-stand, asking in rapid-fire Lingua for a towel.

Solbiort raises an eyebrow... then simply nods slowly. She considers a moment, then says politely, "Vould you mind handing it to me, then?" Andrew looks a little surprised, then nods soberly. Keeping his movements rather slow, he pulls the short carballoy blade from the forearm sheathe. Carefully taking hold of it by the blade, he offers it gravely to Solbiort. Solbiort just as carefully accepts it with a small nod, then notes, "He has a towel for you, if you still vish." She nods at the food-stand owner.

Siddhanarta glances to the food-stand owner and nods; the owner tosses a towel to him. The other patrons are attempting to ignore the interchange between Solbiort and Andrew. "Thank you," he says, sounding a bit relieved as he wipes off the ale.

Solbiort pulls on one of her flying gloves, then empties the suoshi into a belt pouch and tucks the knife into a boot sheathe. She waits silently for the young man to finish wiping up, and once he's done she politely offers him his emptied suoshi, handle first. "So. You vant to talk, ya? Come... here is not goot."

Siddhanarta nods, smiling wanly. "Agreed, Captain. And thank you," he adds, accepting the pistol back. "It's my father's gun; I'd have hated to have lost it."

Solbiort tilts her head thoughtfully at him... then, unexpectedly, smiles. So he's Far Thunder, but human too. Interesting. She turns and paces along fairly swiftly, as long as he keeps up with her. "So... ve need someplace private, vhere neither of us need to vorry about accomplices, ya? Have suggestion, unless you have preference already."

He shakes his head, jogging to catch up with her where he matches her stride. "None, Captain. In fact I hadn't planned on meeting you this evening. I also wouldn't want to, er, make you feel that I'm trying to put you at a disadvantage."

Solbiort flashes a grin at him, "Vell, think ve are both at disadvantage right now, so need not vorry." She glances around, then adds, "Hokay, think up there vould be best. You ever fly before?"

Siddhanarta looks a little surprised. "A couple of times, during the war. A few High-Altitude Wing Kite insertions."

Solbiort nods, "Goot, then you are unlikely to panic on flitter-ving at night." Once they're back at the university, she'll swiftly lock the wing back into flight mode, then wave a hand at it, "Hokay, know how to strap yourself on, or I do it for you?" She pulls out her night vision goggles and yanks on the other glove. At this late in the evening it'll be a touch cold up there even for her. Fortunately the young man is wearing a jacket.

Siddhanarta stares at Solbiort for several long moments, then takes in a slow breath. "Sorry, Captain. The idea of flying in a flitter wing at night is... daunting. But all right. I can strap myself in."

Solbiort tilts her head inquiringly at him, a bit surprised at his reaction... then she smiles again. "Um... vhat you expect from Chang Fei?" With a grin she inquires, "I say that right?"

Andrew chuckles softly. "Nothing less, I imagine. Right. Sorry, it's been a while since I had to put one of these on."

Solbiort waits for him, letting him take his time and making sure he does it right so he's not hurt while they're up in flight. "Vell, I am thinking unless they think you expendable to get to me, ve are both safer up there... und even if they villing to... dispose of you, night flight make it harder to target." She cheerfully adds, "Neh, pull that one tighter, or your skin vill be chafed by it in vind."

He makes a quiet sound. "Not quite that expendable, I hope. No, everything they've told me and that I've learned, points to them being serious about this deal. But probably not the best place to discuss it down here."

Solbiort nods and, once he's done, carefully double-checks the strapping -- losing him in mid-flight would be nothing short of disastrous, especially since he's chosen to trust her so. Once she's sure he's secure, she hefts the little flitter-wing up and swings it easily around her. The little engine coughs, then purrs, pulling up into the air, and she leaps lightly aboard, crouching over the young man as she uses her weight shifts to help the tiny flying wing rise smoothly in the cool night air. Andrew is clearly ex-SpecFor -- he seems familiar with the procedure for jump-starting a flitter-wing and is neither terrified nor antsy as she sets it aloft.

Solbiort pulls on the night vision goggles, then does a careful nav-check to orient herself. Because of the lateness of the evening, it's quite cool, and it takes a while for them to get enough lift to be up high enough that Solbiort's comfortable. Finally she nods once to herself, setting a circling and wandering path that's not completely regular so they're not as easy to track. Once that's done she settles herself into the prone gliding position, half supporting herself and half lying across the young man. She taps his shoulder lightly to let him know they're at a good height for conversation, since she knows he can't see much at this height except occasional sparks of light far, far below if they happen to be swinging over the port city instead of ocean or croplands. "So... you vish to talk? Here ve are, as safe as I can get us for now. Vhat you vish to say?"

She can feel more than see him nod, despite her night sight goggles. "I'll start with what I told Daybreak, if I may. We know that you have Wintarsen and Danviere, or know where they are being kept. It took a while, I admit, but Far Thunder's leaders realize that it's not going to help us any if we just keep harassing you indirectly like this and trying to tie up other loose ends. We're lacking resources and we're getting a bit short on our timetable. So instead of doing things haphazardly, we want to make a deal with you. Wintarsen and Danviere for a negotiable remittance."

Solbiort smiles quietly, although she knows the young man cannot see it, "So Raj tell me. Have to ask, though... vhat is seemingly nice boy like you doing vith group like Far Thunder?"

"It's almost a funny story, and I wish Daybreak had asked after it. I was on the Silver Wire team sent to apprehend Wintarsen. Obviously we failed... but afterwards I got very curious and suspicious. We were supposed to be some of the best HUMOD soldiers in the Alliance, and to be honest, even the best of the Browncoat forces were tactical law compliance officers. Not that the discipline a TAC officer needs is anything to sneeze at.

"Even so, they beat us back without apparently breaking a sweat. I did a lot of research, almost too much research. But instead of being neutralized as a security leak, they transferred me to Far Thunder. I stayed in touch with my superiors after the project was disbanded. About two years ago one of them came to me and... well, to keep a long story short, I reactivated and have been working on this plan ever since."

Solbiort murmurs quietly, "Vhy?"

Andrew is quiet for a few moments. "They told me the reason," he says, "and I agree with it. But the time's not right to say what that reason is yet. I said that I did my own research into why our attack on Wintarsen failed. I also did my own research on why we need this to happen, and I came to the same conclusion that the officers of Far Thunder did: if we don't, in ten years the Alliance will fall. There won't be some sort of Independent Congress in its stead either, which actually would be preferable to complete chaos and devastation."

Solbiort smiles again, "You seem very sure of yourself. Pity you cannot share such strong reason vith others, to convince them. I vould certainly like to know vhat this reason is, such that Far Thunder is villing to use nukes to get their vay." Her voice isn't accusing; just mildly curious.

"I wish I could tell you. But the game, and I use the term loosely, is being played not only double blind, but threefold blind. There's a lot at stake. I didn't entirely agree with the use of the nuke, and I'm not one to say that the ends justify the means. But the loss of everything the Alliance fought for in the War... if we don't do all we can to prevent that, it's like we're pissing on the graves of the war-dead; saying their sacrifices meant nothing." His voice is serious and quiet, not flippant or casual at all; it's clear he's thought long and hard on his own motivations.

Solbiort says, "Mm... so you partially agreed vith killing innocent bystanders, instead of simply choosing to obliterate the evidence? Vhy is that?"

"That I can't answer, Captain. I don't know why the nuke was set up that way. If it had been my choice it would have been tripped the moment our teams left, not when Security sent in their team. I've asked, but I've been told the matter is under investigation. I was told that Hoth wasn't pleased at all."

Solbiort smiles ruefully, "Ah. Ya, of course you vould be told that. Did they tell you about the attack on innocent bystanders on Londinium und Ashtoreth too? Vas Hoth 'displeased' by those also? Has anyvon noticed the pattern?" She adds conversationally, "Curious too, I think, how sure Far Thunder is that no von is clever enough to follow their reasoning. Only they somehow have the intelligence to understand vhat is actually happening... und they cannot be bothered to explain it to anyvon else. Vhy is that, I vonder?"

He replies, "It's because the Alliance is hiding some of the reason, and we're concealing the rest. Have you ever heard the phrase that to believe in a thing is to give it power over you?"

Solbiort says, "Ya. It is vhy I do not believe everyvon else is expendable to my desires." She grins, "Unlike, it seems, Far Thunder. But I am villing to listen to your reasoning."

"I can't argue with your stance. It's hard to argue for a position when you can't give the most compelling reasons for that position. As I said, if we don't accomplish our objective, the Alliance has ten years at most left to it. As it is, by concealing certain things we've managed to extend that grace period from five years."

Solbiort snorts in soft amusement, "Vell, must say your arguments are not currently at all compelling. Fortunate for you ve are more interested in plat to keep ship running than ideological nonsense. But cannot help but notice if Alliance und Far Thunder are vorking together... then seems somevon forgot to notify Far Thunder of this fact." She grins, adding ruefully, "Killing ranking Alliance members is not best vay I know of to make friends und influence people." After her lie she thinks a touch mournfully, I am such a bad valkyrie...

He sighs. "No, it isn't. We won't have to for much longer, though. As you've probably guessed, it's to keep them off our trail in the Border Moons. They want Far Thunder dead and buried, like they tried to bury Wintarsen. But nothing ever really stays buried... fortunately for them. I don't like being considered a traitor, but if what we're doing will keep the Alliance going for another hundred, two hundred, five hundred years... I'll accept that."

Solbiort murmurs softly, "You haf no desire to share your reasoning vith anyvon else, to see somevon else agree vith your decision? Even if they are soon to be dead?"

He half-glances over his shoulder at her, looking oddly at her. "Who's going to be soon dead? You? Captain... I'm dead serious. We want to deal, and we're willing to let you live. And if you agree, you'll find out why this is so important. Because pay or not, you've got to already have guessed that Wintarsen isn't long for the 'Verse, and that's a hard, hard thing to ask of anyone. It's not making me sleep any better, and I've been a soldier for the better part of fifteen years. I don't know how you would feel about it, but it'll at least be some sort of help."

Solbiort smiles, rather touched at the young man's earnestness, "Then if you vant that help of me, tell. Convince me. Von't ever haf better opportunity than now." She keeps the wing swaying in long, easy swoops through the air. No jostling, nothing startling, and no repeated patterns in the sky. That and a keen eye on her compass and the stars should keep them from getting lost or shot.

He is very quiet for several long moments. Finally he sighs. "I'll have to get authorization. Remember what I said about believing in something giving it power. Far Thunder and the Alliance saw what that could do all too well with Wintarsen. We're seeing it now in a completely different case, and we need to curb that -- meet it head-on with a united Alliance. And the Alliance won't ever truly be united until the Independents are really gone. Not the people themselves, but the idea that there could be a 'Verse untamed and uncontrolled and unmanaged by the Alliance. Until then it's best to not give it more power than it has already. But I will see what I can do about telling you, if that will convince you."

Solbiort shakes her head slowly, "Do not think this vill happen, boy, but appreciate the thought." She's silent a moment, then adds quietly, "Think you know it, too, though you do not vant to. Othervise you vould haf immediately denied my comment about pattern of Hoth being 'displeased' at constant... 'expendable-ness' of innocents und civilians." She flies silently for a while, thinking and giving the young man a chance to reply. She's idly interested to realize she's refusing to think of him by name -- she suspects they'll come head to head sometime soon, and she doesn't want to be saddled with any sentimentality when that happens. She feels a little sorry for him... she gets the feeling he really believes Far Thunder will let them all live. She suspects (especially considering Far Thunder's current track record) he's having to fight very hard to believe that.

He sighs. "Ashtoreth. No, I'm not going to make excuses about that. But Security agents are hardly ever innocent bystanders. That agent had taken an artifact -- a relic might even be a better term for it. Something we thought didn't exist -- but when we found out it did, it would have given too much away. And in taking it, the agent learned more than we were ready to reveal then." He adds a moment later, "Captain, I know it's not entirely the same thing, but I ask only to illustrate a point. Did you approve of the bombing and blackrocking of Shadow?"

Solbiort says, "Neh."

"Neither did I. But it achieved the goals of the campaign, albeit at terrible cost. I don't know if the generals responsible really didn't know they were ordering kinetic bombardment of a caldera. I believe that they did know, but didn't foresee the consequences. That didn't stop me from believing in the Alliance, or for taking part in the Unification War. And it didn't stop the Alliance from exploiting the shock generated from blackrocking Shadow to go on to win the Heinlein campaign. I don't like it, I don't want it to ever happen again -- no Alliance soldier worth their oath would. And I hope the generals, if they did give the order knowing what it would do, roast somewhere warm. But it won the campaign. The Browncoats lost one of their main support centers in Heinlein.

"I know it's not the same case. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people displaced; possibly tens of thousands dead from exposure and ash and dust inhalation. And the possibility that it was an accident, compared to what was deliberately done on Londinium. I don't have to like it, I don't agree with it, and I can and have complained... but it focused Security, Alliance law compliance, and the military on the Central Planets, letting us set the stage for this one last dirty operation.

"Captain," he says finally, "I know this ultimate reason why we are doing this could be the cincher for you. I know it was for me. But I've very strict orders about keeping silent about it for now. There'll be a time when it can be announced, when people will know about it, but that time isn't now. Not until the Alliance is whole. Is there anything else though that I can tell you to maybe help convince you we're on the level about this deal?

"And yes," he adds quietly, "I fully expect to either 'roast somewhere warm,' or to face a firing squad if the Alliance catches up with us before or after we accomplish the goal. If it's a united Alliance then... well, I'm not expecting to be hailed as a hero. I'd feel rather ill if I was, actually."

Solbiort smiles ruefully, "Nope. But vill deliver as promised for deal as promised." She listens, then says calmly, "Hope you are not proven wrong, then. You already have awful lot of innocent blood on your hands, und are clinging pretty hard to justifications, from sound of it. Cannot recommend you ever take time to learn who you've murdered... vould be pretty damn bad to discover vas done for no goot reason." Again her voice is quiet, a bit dry, and still simply conversational as she adds, "Vhere you vant drop-off?"

He murmurs, more to himself than to her, "So long as the sleeping pills hold out for just a bit longer...." In a normal tone he adds, "Southside of the Docks, please, Captain. If I may ask, then, we can expect to hear your conditions and articles of the deal soon?"

Solbiort shakes her head, wondering how the boy can face himself in the mirror -- no empire is worth this. "Southside, got it." The wing slides smoothly along the wind as she changes direction, and she murmurs, "Ya. Vill be in dropbox for you as ve take off. Don't vant any nasty surprises, considering Far Thunder's current track record." She's silent then, and soon they're spiraling down near the docks. She pulls up the wing's nose at the last second, slaps the quick-release for the straps binding the young man to the wing, and lets him down gently, stepping warily away from him as she does so.

Solbiort reaches into her pouch, pulling out his autorevolver's clip and the carballoy knife and crouching to lay them gently on the ground by her feet. Then she straightens, studying him a moment, her face quiet as she murmurs gravely, "Easiest vay to prevent nightmares... is not to gif them to others, boy." With that, she turns and strides briskly away, the wing slung over her shoulder. He does not respond, neither does he go for the clip and knife until Solbiort is well and far away.

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Last modified: 2006-Mar-04 21:02:19

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