Eavesdown Docks, Newhall
moon of Heinlein, Georgia Quadrant
Nigel is at his room, scribbling on flimsies as he tries to work out what he's writing to Natasha, and the will and testament to go with it. The floor around his feet is littered with balled up flimsies and there are several others thrown across the room. The doctor is used to being plainspoken to the point of bluntness, and trying to write something that needs to be somewhat delicate by its nature is causing him no end of irritation. Just as he's throwing away his latest attempt at a letter, he hears the door-chime and calls out, "Just open the gorram thing!"
Solbiort grins, stepping through the now-open hatchway, "That I can do. Di-di, vas vanting to..." Her voice trails off as she straightens in the room and slowly surveys the devastation. "Vhat the...?" She bends and picks the closest one up, smoothing it open to curiously read aloud, "'My dearest' -- crossed out -- 'dear' -- also crossed out -- 'Natasha, I need' crossed out 'want to tell you how I feel about oh hell this isn't working gorramit!' followed by scribble marks..." She looks up at Nigel thoughtfully, "You are vanting to tell her you care about her, ya?"
Nigel stiffens slightly as Solbiort starts to read aloud. He spins around and reaches up to try and snatch the flimsy away, "Gorramit, captain, that's my ruttin' private business." He's scarlet on every inch of exposed skin, especially his ears.
Solbiort replies calmly, "Shuh-muh, but you almost hit me vith that last von you tossed! Here." She hands him the flimsy (now she's read it) and adds, "So that is vhat you mean by taking your own advice, eh? Elgyn mentioned you told him to talk to me. Vas nice of you to do so." She considers a moment, then can't resist grinning and adding, "Are kinda swai vhen blushing!"
Nigel takes the flimsy and crumples it back into a ball and throws it into the corner again. He looks like he's threatening to go beyond scarlet to purple, jaw set so tight that his teeth don't part when he speaks again, "Yes, this is what I ruttin' well meant." He does relax a little at being thanked, "Well, hell, watchin' him moon all the time was just irritatin'." That next remark, though, ratchets him right on up into near-purple again, "What the bloody hell do you want, anyway?"
Solbiort laughs delightedly, grinning with a mix of amusement and affection at the practically-incandescent little engineer, "Vanted to ask you to run thorough air und vater checks, to be sure ve are finally free of any unvanted stowavays, di-di. But am thinking perhaps ve haf something in common... vhich I might be able to help you vith." She settles comfortably on his bed and muses, "Had similar problem recently -- how to let lofely lady know of interest, vizzout making her feel pressured?" She grins, waiting for Nigel's reaction, to see if he wants to discuss this further or not.
Nigel arches a brow at the captain, arms crossed across his chest in a show of still being irritated, "What about Elgyn?" he asks, simply.
Solbiort looks surprised, "He is courting ozzer lady too?! Did not know this! You know who is?"
Nigel blinks as the captain's thought pattern veers wildly off where he expected, "Not that I know of... I meant what about you and Elgyn if you're tryin' to romance some woman?"
Solbiort says, "Oh! He knows about courtship of Five Dragons. Is how families are structured on Midgaard. But this is vhy I say perhaps can aid you vith your courtship -- can tell you vhat vorked for me." She politely adds, "Only if you vish, of course?" Her voice is utterly pragmatic; it's a good bet she's telling the unadorned truth.
Nigel blinks again. In fact, he blinks several times. There's not much that just completely leaves him at a loss. Solbiort waits in serenely inquiring calm. Nigel finally finds his tongue again after a few minutes, "Captain, I'm not sure I quite get that."
Solbiort patiently explains, "I haf been courting Five Dragons. Think it goes most successfully. Initially vas not sure, however, she vould be interested, especially since vas long distance courtship, ya? So, if you vish am happy to tell you vhat vorked for me, so you can try to successfully romance your pretty lady too. Ya?"
Nigel still looks somewhat puzzled, "I'm... not... sure..." He seems to be choosing his words carefully, as if he can't quite put it together still.
Solbiort can't help a faintly amused grin. Surely Nigel's not that unfamiliar with courtship? Then a confusing thought occurs to her... she'd assumed males did the courtship out here, but... could she possibly have been completely wrong? Is Nigel the one who should be courted, rather than courting, according to Central culture?
Nigel wrinkles his nose at the grin, "Look, I'm just not good at this shite." His shoulders hunch up as if he's trying to pull his head in like a turtle, "It's just... I've..." He flounders for a moment and then starts over, "Look, Natasha's special, OK?" Solbiort nods, then waits in polite inquiry for him to continue. Nigel grits his teeth, "And I've never done anything like this."
Solbiort nods again -- she'd guessed that by the debris littering the room, actually, but manages not to smile. Instead she simply waits again for Nigel to perhaps answer her question. Nigel doesn't seem to be any signs of saying anything further. Solbiort grins then, "This is not a surprise, di-di. So... you vant to talk vith me about vhat vorked for me, or no?"
Nigel shrugs and continues to glower and blush, knowing he's not living this down and that he's even less likely to live it down if he gets so flustered that he makes the captain leave, "I don't know if it'd be the same, captain. I've known Natasha for a long time."
Solbiort rolls her eyes amusedly, then says patiently, "Di-di. You like this voman, ya? You vant to let her know you like her, but... discreetly, ya, so if she not interested, you not losing a friend -- und if she be interested, you gain lofer, ya?" Nigel nods reluctantly, but literally squirms at the bit about gaining a lover. He looks like he wants to sink into the chair and through the floor. Solbiort smiles, then continues, "Hokay. So, you need same thing I needed -- to give her somezing special, somezing it took you effort to do, vhich shows you think more of her than just professional comrade, ya? So. Vould suggest short, simple poem. Vant example?"
Nigel doesn't say yes, but he also doesn't say no. Solbiort grins, bringing up some text on her terminal, then turning it to show to Nigel, "Here. Is very simple und short." Nigel can read the following text:
Fire-winged phoenix shines
most brightly when lifted by
the velvety Dark.
Solbiort adds, "Vould recommend you include oblique references only, ya? Then vait und see how she respond. Make sense?"
Nigel reads the poem, going even pinker -- almost hugging himself, "That's a haiku, right?"
Solbiort says, "Ya." She regards him curiously, smiling, "Vhy more embarrassed, di-di?"
Nigel glares daggers at the captain for noticing that little detail, shrugging reluctantly, "Just... never done this before," he mutters, eyes shifting away and then back.
Solbiort grins, "So vhy embarrassed? I also haf nefer done before." She ponders for a while, then says curiously, "Sex is not spoken of in Central Vorlds?"
Nigel snorts, "Captain, we have companions. Sex ain't exactly a taboo."
Solbiort says, "Then vhy you are so bright red, di-di?" She oh!s as she suddenly realizes the possible cause, "You are vanting a bit of help in composing first von?"
Nigel glowers for a minute more. "Because of the difference in reading about a ship and actually flyin' the gorram thing!" he bursts out.
Solbiort blinks at Nigel... then has a... coughing fit, yeah, that's it! Finally she ahems, still grinning cheerfully at Nigel, "Vell, is first time for everything, ya? So... vanting help on first time, or vanting me to get out?"
Nigel stays stubbornly in place and takes a deep breath, "I think I need to sort of process a little while." His voice has slipped back to that Londinium brogue.
Solbiort smiles and nods, "All right." She rises, still grinning as she gently tousles his hair, "You vant help, need only ask, di-di. Also shan't tell anyvon else, so no vorries there."
Nigel waves the captain off when she tousles his hair. "Yeah, yeah. I know that," he says off-handedly. Some of the tension is beginning to slip out of his shoulders.
Solbiort grins and paces quietly out of the room, pleased to see Nigel relaxing. The last thing she murmurs as she leaves is, "Let me know if you find anomalies in air und vater use, ya? Haf nice night!" She chuckles, closing the hatchway behind her.
The following day doesn't have much going for it. It's a typical day on a Fringe world, with the bustle of cargo moving through the docks, the market being set up for the daily hawking of wares. The air, however, is still lit by a faint tension and inexplicable disquiet. The bustle is still there; the sights and sounds of the dock are still present. It's just... uncomfortable. It's subtle, and really only noticeable to the crew a few minutes after they crack the hatch for a morning breath of fresh air. None of them can hear a single bird, though the population appears undiminished. Even the Feathered Three occupying the coop cabin aren't clucking nearly as loud.
Nigel wrinkles his brow, trying to figure out the oddness and when he does, his brow is still wrinkled. Animals are something he's most familiar with as food. He notes the lack of the birds' song as a curiosity and tries not to let it gnaw at him overmuch as he goes about his daily maintenance. Solbiort frowns, a bit perplexed. She's not really used to wild birds, so it takes her a further moment to figure out what's missing. Once she figures it out, though, she goes hunting for Elgyn. "Hey, Elgyn... vhat makes birds shut up? Not just some -- all birds?"
Elgyn had just finished feeding the girls when Solbiort finds him... he had noticed their behavior, but hadn't thought much of it till Solbiort asks her question. "I'm not..." he pauses, his brow knit. "Not sure. Exactly." It's clear, from the way he says it, he's holding something back.
Solbiort gives him an amused glance, "Go on..."
Elgyn doesn't look amused. "There are different stories passed down by my people... old legend, or myth, or superstitions. In one story, it's if an owl is seen during daylight hours. But to hear this story tell it... if the birds are silent come morning, it means someone will die that day," he says in muted tones.
Solbiort raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. It'd be rude to denigrate someone else's religion, she knows. "Hokay... now I am thinking of it, have heard birds und animals get silent und restless before earthqvake. Not sure that is not myth also, however." She frowns, leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb, then shrugs, "Vell. Let everyvon know to leave ship only in pairs for today, ya?"
"I don't know if it's true, Captain... but I trust the instincts of the animals. If they're quiet, it means something," Elgyn says firmly.
Elgyn nods. "Yes, Captain," he replies, brow still creased in thought.
Nigel spends several hours fiddling with doors and locks and wiring, making it so the passengers can effectively be sealed off from anything they shouldn't be snooping around in. He mutters a lot, even more than usual, as he goes about his work. Some time later, Elgyn comes up to Solbiort as she's supervising the loading of the cargo. "Captain, may I have a moment?"
Solbiort finishes yelling instructions at one of the cargo handlers, then growls, "Ya, vhat?" as she scribbles notes on the flimsy.
Elgyn makes sure no one is around first, and then speaks in an undertone. "I wanted to... seek your advice. I fear I may be being foolish in this, but... I was thinking about seeking out that crew from the tavern last night. I want to know what they were up to," he explains hesitantly.
Solbiort gives Elgyn a puzzled glance, "Vhat? Vhy you vant to do that? Their smuggling is already over -- you cannot retrieve vhatever. Und if it vas people? Vhat you going to do -- try to force them back unvilling?"
Elgyn grimaces in response to Solbiort's words. "I had no plan in specific, Captain... after all, my response would be tailored to what I found out, yes? It just... it vexes me, Captain. The idea that someone might be stealing or taking advantage on my people. I don't like the idea of letting it go unremarked. It feels like it would be... disloyal."
Solbiort sighs and gives Elgyn a rueful smile, "Hokay, sounds like you're going to go or feel bad about it. At least take somevon vith you as back-up, ya? Don't go alone."
Elgyn nods. "I'll see if Raj is free... thank you for understanding, Captain. I promise I won't do anything to make trouble." Solbiort nods, going back to the flimsy so the worried look on her face doesn't show.
Elgyn knocks one the side of one of the hatchways to engineering. "Raj? Do you have a minute? I'd like your help with something!" he calls out.
Raj trundles around the corner, wiping his hands on a slightly greasy cloth. He spots Elgyn and says, "That'll keep for a while. What's up?"
Elgyn smiles slightly. "We're going to pay a little visit to that surveyor we met last night. Just have a couple questions." Trying to sound offhand about it, he adds, "Oh, and bring that hand cannon of yours."
Raj gives Elgyn a long look, "Bringing a sidearm isn't a problem, but are you expecting trouble? What do they have that you want?"
Elgyn shakes his head. "Not expecting trouble, precisely. Just taking precaution against mischance. And it's not the surveyor I'm worried about... but I'm going to be asking him about finding that crew that went to Ulundi recently. The folks that didn't want to talk."
Raj says, "Well, happy to go along... we can pick up some of the odd-lot supplies we need on the way back. I just want to know how much hardware to bring," he adds, with a lopsided grin.
Elgyn shakes his head. "Don't need anything more than a sidearm, Raj. We're not going to be storming their boat," he assures. He grins a little tightly. "Just going to talk to them. Polite-like."
Raj nods sagely and says, "OK. Give me a moment to clean up and I'll meet you at the dock." Elgyn nods... minutes later, he's changed himself into his Midgaardian leathers and has his revolver in a snapped-shut holster, speaking with a dockhand about the location of the Mercator. Raj joins him on the dock, much cleaner and ready for a brisk walk in a dangerous town...
The two make their way to Weyland's ship, the Mercator. It's not hard to find: a little Wespe-class singleship nestled between two transports, a Flying Wombat and a Firefly-02. Wayland is on a lawn chair under the shade of the nose, doing what looks like routine maintenance on an autotransit. His brimmer is hooked on one arm of the chair as he delicately wrestles with the mechanism of the device. Elgyn looks at the fellow, under the shade of one hand cupped over his brow to block the sun. "Mr. Mackensie? Could I speak with you a moment, sir?" he calls out as he steps right along towards the man.
Wayland looks up, squinting a little... then arches a brow and nods. "Sure an' you may," he says, setting the autotransit down on a cloth beside his chair. He stands, brushing his hands on his hips; he doesn't appear to be armed even though he's in rolled-up shirtsleeves. "What can I be doin' for you folk?"
Elgyn smiles at the man, trying to be friendly. "We met last night, sir... you were telling me about Ulundi... my home," he says by way of introduction, offering a hand. "Elgyn Musere," he reminds the fellow.
Mackensie nods slowly, shaking Elgyn's hand. "Oh, aye, I remember you folks," he says, smiling. "Well! What can I do for you? Afraid I can't tell you much more than what I told ye last night."
Elgyn puts a hand on his hip, as if pondering how to put this. "Well, you might. First, let me say I don't want to be causing trouble for you, sir... but I was wondering if you might know how to find the crew from last night... the folks you said might have been doing a little illicit 'cargo transport'."
Weyland's smile fades a little. "I'm not knowin' anythin' about that, lad. I jus' know why my eyes are tellin' me. But I'm nary gonna be askin' them what cargo they were haulin' 'neath the noses of the Alliance."
Elgyn holds out his hands. "Sir, I'm not expecting you to ask them anything. And ancestors know I'm not the law. I just... you seem to know the lay of the land around here. I thought you might know, or know someone who would, about where they're berthed at."
Mackensie looks at Elgyn for several moments, then glances to Raj, then back to Elgyn. "This is a damnfool thing to be doin', lad. Like I said, I've got respect for you an' yours, but you don't go pickin' a fight- gah, ne'er mind." He points. "Thataway -- three berths down, go right, four down, right again, second berth on your left."
Elgyn nods a little. "Might be a foolish thing, Sir. But I've got a loyalty to my people I can't ignore," he says quietly. "Be happy in your work." He gives the man a nod of farewell, and then gestures to Raj to come along.
Wayland makes a grumbling acknowledgement. "Don't be gettin' yerself killed!" he calls out to the two, sitting back down on his chair.
Elgyn smiles grimly in response and makes his way across the dock, feet moving carefully so as not to stir up dust... not exactly sneaking up on the ship in question, but certainly moving carefully so as to not advertise his approach. Mackensie's words resonate in his mind... he doesn't want to get into a fight. He doesn't even want this crew, specifically. He wants who gave them the job.
The two manage to be unobtrusive in the stream of people flowing through the docks. Occasionally the air is shattered by a transport lifting off and heading out into the black. As it is, Elgyn and Raj manage to get close enough to the ship of the smugglers. It's a Swan class, fairly graceful in its own right; Raj recognizes it as surplus, the closest thing that the Alliance had to blockade runners in the War, used to transport light cargoes and small groups of people past naval cordons, though it wasn't a dedicated troop carrier. The name on the side is Zu Chuo Express.
The only member of the crew visible is the woman seen at the pub last night: a fairly burly, black-haired woman with somewhat Sihnon features, in a dusty and well-mended jumpsuit. She appears to be doing some routine maintenance on the cargo hatch hydraulics. Elgyn makes a couple of gestures to Raj, indicating he should move over to the side to cover Elgyn's flank and the nearest visible hatch. He then moves to within a couple yards of the woman and clears his throat, folding his arms over his chest. "Afternoon, neighbor," he greets her, once he's got her attention.
The woman glances under her arm at Elgyn, pauses, then slowly lowers her hands, wiping the grease from them. "'Afternoon," she says simply, then without looking away from Elgyn she calls over her shoulder, "Skipper. Got some company to see you." Elgyn purses his lips... he didn't want there to be a crowd. But he waits, making no threatening gestures.
"What's goin' on, Sammy?" The buzzcut man with olive skin they saw the night before -- presumably the captain -- comes trotting down the cargo ramp... and slows when he sees Elgyn and Raj. His face goes neutral and wary, and he slowly sets his arms akimbo. "Somethin' we can help you with, friend?" he asks flatly.
Elgyn nods curtly. "Yes. I'd like the name of your recent employer, please," he says calmly, but bluntly.
The man looks at Elgyn for a bit, then gives a bit of a forced smile. "'Fraid that's not information we just give out. Now, lest you have a warrant, I think that'll be all?"
Elgyn smiles back, and it's not a nice smile. "You're under the impression I'm the law. I'm not. The feds have to play by certain rules that I don't. The only rule I follow is the Musere Code of the Warrior... and I'm sorry to say, but you're not considered an 'innocent' under that code." He spreads his hands. "You don't want to tell me anything... well, that's fine. But I'll remember that. And I will find out who sent you. At the very least... I suggest you not work for them ever again if you're not going to be helpful." His eyes go flat and cold... but other than that he makes no movement, hardly even breathing.
The man's voice drops an octave. "All right, assuming you're not the law, 'Liance or tribal. Are you threatening us? 'Cause if you are you best be tellin' me which Tong or Syndi familia you're representin' that I should be payin' my respects to. Otherwise you're in no damn position and your words are xu suo. Dong ma?"
Elgyn considers, very briefly, dropping Five Dragons' name. But he quickly dismisses that idea. Even if he had any idea how to play that card, that would be dishonest and could result in problems down the road. He also considers dropping his ship's identity, as it might help... but that would involve dragging his crew into this mess, which he knows would be wrong as well without their permission. Besides, he has to admit he more wanted to do it just to throw 'xu suo' back in the man's teeth.
He shrugs. "I know how it is, neighbor. Sometimes you gotta take whatever jobs you can to keep flying. But now that I'm coming home after all these years, and I know which way the wind is blowing... well, you'd be a fool to think I'm not interested in talk that there's people taking advantage of me and mine." He smiles one last time. "You folk have a nice day." He then turns and walks away, gesturing to Raj to follow. He does, however, take note of the ship and any outer descriptive details.
As Elgyn's walking away the woman snaps, sounding outraged, "Taking advantage?! Yi ge ben yi dui rou-!" "Enough, Sammy," the captain interrupts her, weary. "Let's get back to work -- need that hatch fixed 'fore we upship...." After that, there's only the sound of the captain going back into the ship and the mechanic attacking the hydraulic system again.
Elgyn purses his lips, but just keeps going. "Maybe I am a fool," he mutters under his breath. After all, it has only just hit him that even if he got the information... what would he do with it? He's only one man. And he could not drag his crew into the kind of mess this would surely lead into simply because of his outrage. And who knows: perhaps this "Sammy's" anger was justified, and they had done nothing worthy of how he had confronted them. "Come on, Raj, let's get you those supplies."
Meanwhile, back at the ship, the Colonel comes calling in late morning, looking subdued and tired as he chimes the hatch. "Nihao to the ship."
Solbiort pops the hatch and grins, "Nihao, Colonel! You're early..." she pauses, eyeing him thoughtfully, then adds more quietly, "-would you like to ride in the mule for tea?"
The Colonel smiles a little and holds up a hand, shaking his head. "No, this is just an ad hoc social call, Captain. I only came by to see how you were doing and if you or yours needed anything. He ducks his head a little, peering up at the overhead of the cargo bay. "Good morning, Doctor," he calls out politely to Nigel.
Nigel suffers no fear of heights, so monkeying around up above the cargo bay is no issue at all. He hears himself greeted and cranes his head down to squint at the Colonel, waving at the man. The hand he's waving with is full of cable and his mouth is full of small fasteners. Solbiort raises a surprised eyebrow, but nods and politely bows the Colonel in, "In that case, enter und velcome. You vould perhaps prefer tea here?"
The Colonel smiles a bit at the wave of cable. "Oh, I still would like to have tea with you tomorrow, Captain. As I said, this was rather... spur of the moment." He pauses as he enters the ship at Solbiort's invitation. "I... confess I am not as young and stubborn as I once was, which made this morning's sentencing somewhat... bittersweet, for want of a better word. Our victories seem to be more and more hollow."
Solbiort ahs, suddenly understanding. She thinks a moment, then waves a hand, "You would prefer seat here, or perhaps in lounge, to talk about sentencing, Colonel?"
Nigel can be heard shoving and banging and muttering as he works on the cabling, occasionally cursing casually at something. Yuan glances up at Nigel, a ghost of a smile on his face momentarily. "Ah. The lounge, please, captain, if we may. I also have some... documents for your ship, in partial thanks from the Alliance for what this ship, your crew, and you have done for it."
Solbiort smiles, waving a hand and walking slowly alongside the Colonel, "This vay, then. Am sorry ve haf no lift, but is not far." She chats casually as they go, "So, vhat vas sentence, if ve may know?"
The Colonel's expression fades a little as he walks with Solbiort. "The gunship commander was executed a few hours ago. The custodian-officer of the base and Siddhanarta have been sentenced to Ariel Max-Sec, pending determination of a penal labor assignment. I have been told Hoth has been sentenced as well." He shakes his head a bit to clear it. "I confess it seems a waste, captain. They had already done all that they were going to do. Executing any of them seems much like closing the burning barn door after the horses have fled."
Solbiort sighs softly, her good mood fading with the exhaled breath. She simply murmurs softly, "Vhat... a vaste..."
With more conviction the Colonel adds, "Still, this is what law is for. When the deterrence of the ultimate punishment that the state can exact is not enough, then that deterrence must become realized."
Solbiort glances thoughtfully at the Colonel and simply says, "Shuh-muh for being ignorant Fringer girl, Colonel... but vhat good to the dead und grieving vere these deaths?"
He makes a quiet sound. "There is none. Which is why Siddhanarta and Osvalt will be performing suitable but hard labor for much of the rest of their lives. But the tribunal determined the gunship commander, of the survivors of that wreck, would never and could not ever have any remorse or regret for his actions in supporting Far Thunder. He had no conscience. Osvalt and Siddhanarta... they do. If they do not already, then in time they will truly regret the damage they have contributed to. The commander... none."
"I wish I could say the same for Hoth, but I suspect his execution was as much a political move as it was a judicial action. And I imagine the Shi Kai could not trust him to never attempt this sort of thing again. This... I am less comfortable with. I am a Central born and bred, captain, and despite the War we do not necessarily believe in unbridled bloodshed. This is why Far Thunder was originally approved -- it promised, and in many cases delivered, maximal results for the least amount of death and destruction. And why, when it became something unto itself, it could not continue."
Solbiort waves to Nigel, calling, "Can join for tea if you vant later, di-di!" To the Colonel she nods slowly, "Vell... is not something they vill be asking my opinion on, so shall not vorry unduly about it. Hope Siddhanarta and ozzer von, Osvalt, eventually learn."
He nods, "As do I. Siddhanarta was a good soldier. Misguided in the end, but I think he will learn where he went wrong and what he can do to atone for his tacit approval of Far Thunder's post-War actions."
Solbiort settles the Colonel comfortably in the Lounge and starts tea, asking, "So, vhat is this papervork you haf for us?" She grins good-humoredly at him, "Ve shall nefer escape it entirely, eh? Red tape vill follow expansion of voman into space forefer."
He smiles a little, pulling a document wallet from his jacket. "No, I don't think we ever shall. I think the Exodus Archives still has some forms that were supposed to have been filled out in triplicate and sent back to Earth-That-Was after we came to the 'Verse."
Solbiort laughs! -then serves the tea and settles down herself. "Hokay, vhat ve haf here?"
Yuan takes a sip of tea, and unfolds the wallet. "First, of course, the obligatory letter of thanks from the Law Compliance Assembly. Personally I had been hoping for one from Parliament, or at least the Military Council, but I'm told that if one is to come it will be delayed."
Nigel saunters into the room not longer after the captain and the Colonel have started to get settled. He's got cable looped around his neck like a scarf. Solbiort grins at Nigel, waving to indicate the teapot is still hot. Nigel helps himself to a mug of tea, splashing something into it from his flask before joining Solbiort and Yuan. Solbiort looks back at the Colonel, nodding for him to continue. She murmurs amusedly, "Vould be surprised to see such from military, to be honest."
The Colonel takes another sip of tea, and smiles, nodding to Nigel. "Well, the Council is more likely than Parliament. But in this case it was believed that one from the Assembly was more appropriate. Security, of course, does not give out such letters." He pulls out another parchment. "Thus, this one doesn't exist."
Solbiort raises an eyebrow, then smiles, "Vell... how very nice of them!" She takes the letter and reads it carefully, wondering how, um... cautiously worded it will be. Nigel was in the act of taking a sip of his tea when the colonel presented the letter, and the comment takes him enough off-guard that tea and scotch spray out his nose, leaving him to say something very loud and very incoherent. Solbiort hastily moves the letter aside so it's not splattered... then, still reading, hands Nigel a hankie. Nigel takes the handkerchief and begins cleaning his face, which has turned a very unbecoming shade of scarlet.
The Colonel quite casually passes a napkin to Nigel as well, as he rifles through the wallet. The letter from the Assembly is quite circumspect about just what happened. Predictably, the Security one is a bit more explicit, though it discreetly leaves out a few details as well. As always, the parchments with their neat rows of calligraphy are tasteful -- not sycophantic, but rather respectful and thankful. Solbiort looks up and smiles at the Colonel, "Vell! All jest aside, sir, these are very nice." She neatly tucks them away, then tilts her head inquiringly at the Colonel and smiles again.
"Oh, you're quite welcome. You all deserve quite a good amount of thanks from the Alliance." He makes a "Hrmmm..." sound as he considers the next flimsy. "This is something I would be very careful and... discreet about flashing around. It is a permit for your ship to carry defensive armament. A few steps below a letter of marque, mind you. And I would not be free with it. Some cruiser commanders on the Fringe claim a great deal of leeway in the interpretation of 'defensive armament.' In short, it is not the 'get out of jail free' card that some would-be mercenaries and privateers believe it to be. But I do not feel that will be any sort of issue." Solbiort grins broadly, glancing at the flimsy only long enough to verify what it is -- then it too is swiftly tucked away. That one she will be very careful with!
He puts another flimsy on the table. "Ah, let's see... an influx of credits would have been too blatant. However, a more... material gift is certainly in order. Sometimes we forget letters of thanks do not always cover the costs when times are lean. For the time being I can say a trust fund linked to Blue Sun stocks has been set up for you and each of the members of your crew. I do not yet have the details yet, but they will be messaged to you within the week. If they are not, contact me and I will make it happen."
Solbiort's eyebrows go up as she glances first at the flimsy, then at the Colonel. Her voice is quite sincere when she murmurs, "Sheh-sheh, Colonel... this is unexpected pleasure!" Nigel arches a brow and tips his head a little to look at that. Solbiort tilts it so Nigel can see it too.
Yuan folds his hands in his lap. "Well, as I said, letters of thanks only go so far." He purses his lips. "Seeing as how Parliament considers these things on many layers at once," he says slowly, "I imagine there are many levels of meaning to this offer. They are trust funds -- should persons of this crew leak details of this incident, they can freeze or eliminate the funds. They are linked to the largest Alliance corporation -- should the Alliance fall, Blue Sun will as well, and the stocks will become worthless."
"On the other hand there are advantages to this arrangement as well: namely, the funds are in your names and cannot be accessed by anyone else; the stocks are unlikely to ever depreciate unless Blue Sun suddenly went bankrupt without the Alliance doing anything about it; and as trust funds they cannot be simply data-raided and emptied as a bank account can be, or stolen as credit-bills could be. Even so... much of this need not be said. I have faith that you all will do nothing to jeopardize the Alliance."
Solbiort nods, "Am understanding, Colonel. Is acceptable to me, und think crew vill be hokay vith this also." She snorts amusedly, adding, "Economic stability is in our favor, Colonel... think ve haf proven ve are interested in that by now." She grins, adding, "Und this vorks both vays, after all. Vould be foolish of them to freeze funds vithout varning too." Nigel lets the captain do the talking, simply sipping his tea as he looks over the paperwork.
"As little as I would like to think of the Alliance as an economic entity, it is that and more. I also have, of course, an exoneration for any and all possibly illegal, paralegal, or quasi-legal actions undertaken by this crew during the course of this incident. It is not a pardon -- a pardon would imply you actually did something illegal. Should any investigation into this incident turn up illegal activities undertaken by persons of this ship's crew, then they will not be pursued towards prosecution. This is simply a tabula rasa, though. It is not, of course, exoneration for any future possible misdeeds."
Solbiort tosses her head back and laughs aloud, then grins at the Colonel, her blue eyes dancing with mischief, "The Colonel is too, too prepared from previous experience, ya?"
Nigel murmurs into his tea, "So we should make sure any bodies look like they date from the last month. Check."
Solbiort laughs again, having to put her tea down so she doesn't spill it. She grins in great good humor at Nigel, "You are fun boy, di-di!"
The Colonel nods wryly to Solbiort as he takes a sip of his tea -- then almost chokes on it when Nigel makes his comment. He recovers somewhat, coughing a little wetly. "Ahem... yes, please do, Doctor!" he says, chuckling. "Ahh... well, I do believe that was all that needed doing. I should return to the Security officer for the time being, but we are certainly still on for tea tomorrow."
Solbiort beams at the Colonel, deeply pleased, "Sheh-sheh very much, sir! Oh, also have von last qvestion. Have veaponry of Siddhanarta -- included autolock from his sire. He vill be ever coming out of Ariel, or vhat? I keep it for him, or give it to you?"
"Hmm? Ah. Siddhanarta's autolock." The Colonel goes oddly introspective at that. "Actually, I am given to understand there is already someone who will be holding it for him: EXARCH sent a specific request not long after learning he was bound by law."
Solbiort looks a bit surprised, "Who this is, ching? Oh... veapon is historical or somesuch?" She grins ruefully, "Vonder who he vant to have hold it."
Yuan shakes his head. "I do not know. But their request, while unfailingly very polite, mentioned it as being of some historical interest they were very keen to pursue while Siddhanarta is working through his sentence."
Solbiort nods, "Hokay, vill give it over to you, since have heard nozzing from Siddhanarta on vhere he vant it." She leaves the room for a moment to fetch the autolock and the sheathed blade. She's curiously studying the autolock when she returns, trying to see what, if anything, is different about it. The suoshi autorevolver doesn't seem to be anything special. The pattern is a little old, somewhat vintage, with a gunsmith's marks indicating that it was "hand" made, likely a one-off production model. For the apparent volume of alloy used, it seems a little heavier than it should be, but beyond that, it does not appear to Solbiort's eyes to be unusual.
Before she re-enters the lounge, Solbiort takes a moment to examine it closely, seeing if anything flips open, slides off, or otherwise is different than usual. Despite her best efforts, nothing at all seems to be some sort of secret compartment or catch or hinge or other sort of unusual feature on an autorevolver. Even the grip -- the stereotypical location for hidden compartments in autorevolvers -- appears to be without anything unusual. If anything, the grip appears to be packed with nothing more unusual than 'smart' circuitry, designed to allow only a person with specific biometrics to be able to fire the gun. However, the circuitry has been disabled and looks like it has been for years... more likely decades.
Solbiort raises an eyebrow. What a very interesting idea -- to have a weapon which allowed only certain folks to fire it! She'll have to mention this to her mothers. A pity she cannot keep the weapon. Still, Siddhanarta has not made any request for her to keep it, so she cannot in good conscience do so. She heads back to the lounge, albeit with a touch of amused regret.
Meanwhile, in the lounge as the Colonel finishes off his tea, he comments to Nigel, "And how has your time with the ship gone, doctor? I realize it's not a Central hospital... but then again, that would be the appeal of it," he adds wryly. "It would be for me, at any rate."
Nigel smiles lopsidedly, "Honestly, Colonel, that's the appeal of it for me as well. I didn't want to be a ruttin' doctor in the first place. Prefer machines. But I gotta say that I've had more interesting cases on this ship than I ever would have working at some gorram hospital."
Solbiort laughs, entering on that last comment, "Vould haf lost several of them vas it not for you, Nigel -- am very glad you are aboard!" She politely and correctly hands the empty autolock and the sheathed blade to the Colonel, "Here you are." Nigel acknowledges the captain's comment with another little smirk.
Yuan smiles a little. "And more excitement and... interesting times than you bargained for, I imagine. For what it's worth, we've expended effort to make sure Doctor Rivenov is and will remain safe. We do not believe there is enough of Far Thunder left to attempt any sort of retribution, but we also don't believe in letting risks remain untended." He looks up as Solbiort enters and stands himself, nodding to Solbiort and rather solemnly accepting the weapons. "I will see that these are delivered to Beaumonde. And if I find out why EXARCH wanted to hold on to them for Siddhanarta, I will let you know as well, Captain."
Solbiort grins and points out the apparently-disabled biometrics, "Think that's it, Colonel." She cheerfully adds, "Not that I saw anything at all, should anyvon ask you, of course."
The Colonel arches a brow at the biometrics. "Interesting... mm? Oh, of course, Captain. Of course." Breaking from his odd reverie, he makes the autorevolver and the knife disappear into his jacket. "Well. Thank you for allowing me in on such short notice, Captain.
Solbiort smiles and bows politely, "Alvays a pleasure, Colonel. Is least ve could do for efforts you have made for us." She will escort the Colonel to the hatchway, bid him goodbye, sheh-sheh, and looking forward to seeing him on the morrow, close the hatchway, take a deep breath... then gleefully give a rebel yell! She bounds back up the stairs to the lounge and scoops up the unsuspecting Nigel in a happy bearhug!
It is a few minutes later Elgyn and Raj return to the ship from their expedition. Elgyn is carrying in a couple cases of sundries, and blinks as he hears an ecstatic whoop from somewhere in the ship. He looks perplexedly at Raj. "Did Molly finally learn how not to destroy a meal, and no one told me?"
Raj shakes his head, "No idea. I'm going to stow this first. I'll be up in the lounge shortly." He trudges off. Elgyn nods in response, sighing and taking his load to one of the storage rooms... he ponders asking Solbiort for some of her stash of liquor. Part of him wants to get drunk again... but only a small part. Climbing the ladder to the upper deck, he decides to just take defeat gracefully. He does stop by the lounge, however, curious at what excitement is going on.
In the lounge, Solbiort is still delighted, "Hoo-ya! Ve are shiny, di-di!" She swings Nigel around, then sets him carefully back down, "Yeah! Did you see all zat papervork?! Ve have veapons license now!"
Nigel doesn't even have time to squeak as he's scooped up like a rag doll and flung around. When she puts him back down the little doctor is scowling fit to bust, but he can't keep it up for too long, "Well, I don't know about license, but at least we aren't going to get put away for what we already got."
Solbiort laughs again, in a gloriously good mood, "True! True, is very goot ve are sitting now, ya?" As Elgyn enters, she is so happy she's almost smug-sounding, "Look vhat ve got, pretty! Got sheh-sheh from Law Compliance Assembly und Alliance Security -- may have von from Military Council but not to count on it. Better yet-" she produces the flimsy with a flourish, "now haf veapons license for ship!"
Elgyn blinks at Solbiort's buoyant joy. "That's, uhm... that's good, I guess?" he murmurs, glancing at Nigel. "Certainly a relief to you, I'd wager."
Nigel gives Elgyn a tight little smile, "Just a bit, yeah."
Raj comes into the lounge looking only a bit grim, and takes a seat, "OK, what's the party all about?"
Solbiort gleefully repeats herself, pointing out the flimsies. She beams, watching the reaction to that, then flourishes yet another flimsy, "Best of all? Trust funds for each of us, und exoneration on all counts for past months' vork! Nozzing like plat und forgiveness to show folks are happy, ya?"
Elgyn huhs at the second revelation. "A... trust fund? How, er... how is that supposed to work?" His answering smile is uncertain -- not exactly unhappy but not managing to muster the same amount of enthusiasm as his Captain.
After flipping though the stack of flimsies, and stopping to read several them more closely, Raj seems a bit stunned. He sighs and says, "Well, that turned out better than I hoped for. It looks like we're well and truly off the hook here." He looks puzzled for a moment, then says, "How did that happen?!?"
Solbiort grins at Raj... then studies the two recent arrivals consideringly, "So, no vounds. No gunplay, ya?"
Elgyn shakes his head, looking around to see if there's any tea left. "No fighting. But no information either," he replies shortly, pouring himself a cup. Then he glances at Raj. "Probably not too hard to understand, Raj. If they're giving us money they're buying us off," he responds shortly.
Solbiort glances at Elgyn, then nods approvingly at Raj, "Vell done. Better than I expected." She looks back at Elgyn, then just sighs and shakes her head. Nigel starts to open his mouth, only to close it again at Elgyn's comment, one brow arched at the unaccustomed bitterness. Solbiort adds to Raj, "Sheh-sheh," then turns to Elgyn, "Di-di, is not buy-off. Is actually a sheh-sheh. Colonel is old var buddy, und has vorked hard to bring proper revard to us for dangerous vork."
Raj says, "Well, if you're insulted by the dirty ol' money, feel free to give it to charity. I consider it a stipend for work done well, and discreetly to boot."
Solbiort laughs at Raj's comment, then grins at Elgyn, "You are not liking it, give it to me to manage for you vith rest of your plat. Silly boy." She grins at him affectionately, then carefully collects up the flimsies, "Very goot news, ya? This is vorth celebrating, am thinking! Who vould like to go into town vith me for goot dinner?"
Raj says, "I'm always up for interesting food, and somebody else paying the tab. When are we leaving?"
Nigel pretends to check his watch, "Well, I've got... the rest of the day. The doors are all wired up."
Solbiort laughs again, "How about now? Sound goot to me!"
Elgyn bristles briefly, but then sighs, seeing he's just being ornery for no good reason... and that's Nigel's job. "Forgive me, Captain. I will join you all... I don't wish to be a 'sourpuss,' as I believe they call it."
When evening rolls around, the crew heads out into the town for dinner. Though it lacks any brawls as after-dinner entertainment, it's still an enjoyable meal, and it is passed well into the night without incident.
[Previous Log]
[Index]
[Next Log]
