| Logs |
2006 October 24
| Hunter |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Hunter Logs |
Part Twenty-Three: The Open Hand
Several weeks pass relative quickly. The stopover at Alfheim is fairly quick, the skyplex dock being nice and orderly. If the crew has ever been confused by Solbiort's accent, then they hear it in spades here. Isenara departs the ship there, and at almost the same time a cargo drops in their lap: a shipment of Alfheim spidersilk, fortuitously to Triumph. Despite it being silk, it's not luxury-grade, so a cargo hold full of bales of the stuff manages to cover expenses plus some profit. The cargo is securely and quickly loaded aboard. It actually has an interesting scent to it -- nothing the ship's scrubbers can't deal with, though. It's like a faintly woodsy scent that seems totally unlike regular Sihnon and synthetic silks.
Triumph, moon of Eclipse
Georgia Quadrant
Triumph hasn't changed much since Solbiort and Elgyn were here last. Agriculture and ranching communities sprawl and scatter from the Auslander Docks. Further from the docks, but even farther between each other, are small and relatively isolated towns and villages. The ones nearest the docks are fairly typical of Fringe worlds. The Blue Sun tower lords it over the docks like a many-armed prelate, the megacorporation's warehouses being held close to the base of the tower; other companies have their warehouses scattered about, and all are in easy reach of the docked ships.
The cargo hold is shortly emptied of the spidersilk bales. After also offloading the protein foodstuffs at the Alfheim skyplex (signed and bound for the Orange Catholics and Atzlans there), the hold now has only the Sihnon silks and Boros pulse drives bound for Midgaard.
Quin Ji's aunt and uncle are ecstatic to finally see her when the ship arrives. They gather her up in their arms, departing with her just like nothin' in the world's ever going to get her away from them. Elgyn smiles at the joyful reunion... he's actually relieved. Ever since Solbiort took him to task, he's been worrying about what consequences his words might have had -- so poorly chosen. That they have had none is some small comfort... dodged a bullet.
Solbiort watches the girl leave safely with her relatives... then grins, stepping up behind Elgyn and looping an arm companionably about his shoulders and gently ruffling his short hair with the other hand. She murmurs quietly, "All's vell as ends vell, eh? Is huge relief to see that all taken care of, und haf you back again!" Elgyn smiles a little bashfully, but does not reply... even though he warmly drinks in Solbiort's affection, linking arms with her contentedly. Solbiort sighs happily, giving Elgyn a hug, and adds, "Matter of hours now, ve also be home at Midgaard! Or at least Mani Station for you all." She adds cheerfully, "Und after veek on Midgaard, ve take you to Ulundi, Elgyn. Looking forvard to that?"
Elgyn considers. "Sort of. There is..." he pauses as he considers his words, "anticipation. But also apprehension. I wonder what I will find and how I will feel, coming home to this very different Ulundi we have been warned of."
Solbiort nods quietly, resting her chin against Elgyn's head, "Ya, this I can understand, pretty. Still, soon you vill know, und this is goot thing also, I am thinking."
Molly has by now secured the ship's bridge and come down into the cargo hold after the last of the silk bales are offloaded, swerving around a pulse-drive compression coil. "Ship's secure, Captain," she says. "There's a problem, though...."
Solbiort looks over at Molly thoughtfully from where she's gently hugging Elgyn from behind, "Ya, mei-mei?"
Molly takes a breath. "It's the galley supplies. It looks like the load of foodstuffs we took on went bad -- the proteins've broken down into useless aminos. I don't think that swai-boy from Boros could do anything to make them remotely edible, let alone non-toxic. At least, that's what it means when the tabs on the containers turn red. We can get our money back from the seller -- an' there'll be hell to pay from the shipper -- but we don't have any edible foodstuffs aboard right now. I can rustle up a new load, but considering how close it is to the evening meal you might want to take the crew out for a decent real meal?"
Solbiort blinks, parsing the longest comment she's ever heard Molly state... then laughs! "Svai boy... pretty Lexi? Heh... let's not find out hard vay you are right, ya? So... ve need more foodstuffs too; got it. Tell Raj so he buy more, ya? Und ve all go out; is fine. Do not think anyvon on Triumph vill remember vhat Elgyn und I do for them couple years ago, so should be qviet." She grins, adding, "Put flimsies on seller on my desk, mei-mei, und I take care of that also, ya? Sheh-sheh!" She pats Elgyn's shoulder as she straightens, "Go tell everyvon vhat ve doing for dinner, pretty, ching?"
Molly looks a bit grumpy at mention of Alexander Kali, but nods. "I'll do that, Captain." As she goes off she mutters, "And here I was just getting the hang of cooking after all this time... gorram metastable proteins...." Solbiort snorts amusedly, but courteously refrains from comment. Molly hunts down Raj, and gives him the bad news about the foodstuffs. She also tells Raj and Nigel about the slight change in dinner plans for this evening. Nigel acknowledges the change with a distracted nod.
After getting the "good news" about the change in dinner plans, Raj starts contacting local vendors for tasty, nutritious, and cheap (pick any two) ship-standard provisions. Looking over the options, he thinks, If we're going to start taking on more passengers, or trying to attract more crew, it might be a good idea to go for something more attractive than "Felix's Fabulous Food Slurry", and he scratches several of the offerings off the list. On the other hand, no harm in laying in some flats of high-calorie emergency rations. He crosses off a few more and says aloud, "Well, it won't break the bank, but I surely do want a word with ol' Jorgey about getting some joy for selling us that last bad batch. He should have known better."
Elgyn is listening to the interchange between Solbiort and Molly, and wondering if Molly is really disappointed about not having to cook, when he gets a start from Solbiort's query... actually it's not the query, it's the fact that Solbiort's other hand is giving his rear a pat. That is a very odd feeling, and he flushes. He ahems and straightens his vest. "Captain... why are you worried about people remembering our good deed? It was, er... good, after all, right?"
Solbiort chuckles quietly, with a touch of rue to her voice, "Pretty, no von remembers goot deeds. Only remembering they are the vons vhere you screw up. Goot deeds they chust take vhat they can, say sheh-sheh forever -- maybe even mean it at that moment! But two, three days later... is vonce again 'vhat you have done for us lately?' und you are forgotten." She smiles and shrugs, "So am not vorried about being recognized here, because ve do them only goot. Zat is all I mean."
Elgyn nods at the wisdom in her words. "I wonder if there's still any food left from that gambit... it would be highly ironic if we were served some of it tonight."
Solbiort chuckles, "Oh, vas at least year ago, pretty. Food is for eating, not for decorating. Must be long gone by now." She thinks a bit, then adds, "How about ve go to St. Andrews? Am thinking it vas not bad, ya?"
Elgyn smiles. "Wherever you lead, I will follow." He says it solemnly, but there is a hint of amusement in his eye.
Solbiort grins broadly, giving Elgyn a quick hug, then adds, "Vell for right now am leading to cabin, to see vhat I can do qvickly about recovering plat on foodstuffs. Call me vhen is time to head off for food, ya?"
Later, as folks start gathering near the hatch, Raj rattles down the ladder, snapping his portable terminal shut and sliding it into a deep pocket. "We ready to go? All dogged down?"
Molly is apparently planning on staying; she's already breaking out and testing the re-breathing apparatus and the hazmat gloves. Proteins that have broken down into their base aminos smell horrid. Despite this she looks a bit testy, so it might not be a good idea to ask her how much different this would be from her normal cooking. Elgyn, wisely, has made no jokes or comments about the matter of the bad foodstuff since it began. It wouldn't be kind... and besides, he's trying to think before he speaks these days. Solbiort grins at Molly's determined look, and cheerfully asks what she'd like brought back for dinner for her. Molly pauses. "Oh... your judgment, captain; I'm not picky tonight. Jorge's head on a pike might be good -- if not for dinner, though...."
Solbiort laughs, gently ruffles Molly's hair, and rumbles, "Vill bring you somezing nice, mei-mei. Is goot thing you are doing here, und ve all appreciate it." She waves to everyone else, "Hokay, to mule -- ve're off for food! St. Andrews is pretty nice... solid, filling, und goot folks if they are same from last time."
Molly smiles quietly, "Glad to be of help, Captain." Then she starts to put on the re-breather. "You best get goin'. I'll be cracking open the food locker soon. The scrubbers'll clean out the smell before you get back, but it'll be holy hell in the commons in a little while." Then she dons the re-breather and gloves, and with as much solemnity as she can muster, heads up to the commons.
It takes maybe less than an hour to get to the town of St. Andrews, perhaps the closest Flock town to the docks. They're a bit reluctant to deal with the rough-and-tumble spacers out of the docks, but over time St. Andrew's has gotten a good reputation for good food, and so crews that are on Triumph for a few days invariably at some point go to have dinner at the small Flock town. Fortunately, the sheriff's deputies in the town are now well adept at keeping any rowdy visitors in line.
The 'pub' is one of the better ones in St. Andrews, warm and comfortable and close. Since Flock communities hardly ever have very stringent vice restrictions, the lager is a bit on the weaker side but it flows well enough here, and they certainly don't skimp on the food. As the crew enters, most people don't take much notice of them -- most of the people apparently being ship crews or visitors from the docks. But a few of the help seem to be looking curiously at the new arrivals. Very shortly, after they sit at a free table, one of the waitresses comes swinging up with a tray and four mugs of the nutty lager they make local to Triumph. "Welcome back, Captain!" she says cheerfully as she sets the lagers out. "First round's on the house."
Elgyn looks sidelong at Solbiort. "And you said they wouldn't remember," he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
Solbiort beams delightedly, "Mei-mei Maya?! So goot is to see you still are here! Tell Alice sheh-sheh from us all, ya?" She loops an arm around Elgyn's shoulders and hugs him with a grin, "Is case vhere am happy to be wrong, pretty! Only vish it happen more often this vay!" She adds to the others as she scoops a mug with her other hand, "They make very nice lager here. Try! Goot flavor to it."
"In part thanks t' you, Cap'n, and El' here. I'll let Alice know! An' I'll be back in a few to take your orders."
Elgyn seems a little startled... either because Maya remembers his name, or maybe just because he's being called 'El.' While he was pleased with the end result of their actions here, he didn't think he made much of an impression on this particular run. "Ah... hmm," he murmurs intelligently to the waitress.
Solbiort chuckles, clinking her mug against everyone else's, "To profitable und safe runs, ya? Joy!"
Raj nods and agrees, "Safe and profitable!" He's no stranger to big mugs, it seems.
Elgyn is startled out of his bemusement, and can't help but smile, looking thoughtfully at the lager. "Safe and profitable," he adds in firm agreement, clinking heartily.
Solbiort takes a long draught, then clunks the mug down with an "ahh!" and looks around curiously at the other folk there. She grins and nods to the help she recognizes, and thinks, Funny... I've helped out other folks more than I did here, I think... but it's the religious Shepherd community that actually remembers. I wonder what that says?
Dinner progresses -- it really is good, to the point where one might think St. Andrew's economy is turning to tourism and service -- and leads on to dessert. Solbiort will make sure Maya knows to pack a dinner to go as well, so Molly gets a tasty meal also. At around nine o'clock, an hour or so after sunset, the pub is full and the evening crews from the docks are starting in to have their pints. They seem to know the rules of the Flock community, though, and none drink to excess -- just a lot of friendly conversation, some good drink, and companionable talk.
There is a bit of a sea change in the air though, as a group of three enters. It's not a sense of tension, but rather (oddly enough) of resignation. The three are plain and simply clothed, clearly farmers from the plains, but not of a community Solbiort recognizes. The clothing is pale gray or dun linen: tunics to the thigh, loose breeches, and well-worn dusty sandals. The three -- two are male and one is female -- are weather-worn, with lined faces that make them look older than they might be, sun-darkened skin and sun-bleached hair suggesting seriously hard work in the sun for long days.
The three approach the bar, where one of Alice's burly sons is tending. They appear to be making quiet entreaties to him, but he is regretfully -- but firmly -- shaking his head. Solbiort watches thoughtfully, then gently nudges Elgyn, "Vhat you t'ink, pretty... folk who lost all to somezing? No bandits any more that I know of, though." She grins with a touch of pride, adding, "Vonce they had the tools und the training, folks here took right goot care of all bandits, ya?"
Elgyn, who has been sampling the lager but stopped when he started to feel it, is jolted from his quiet buzz and blinks over at where Solbiort is indicating. "Hnh. I wonder," he mutters. Solbiort watches curiously, waiting to see if she can hear anyone talking. This pervasive a sense of resignation indicates to her a story everyone present knows. Elgyn chuckles lightly. "They certainly took to it with enthusiasm," he recalls, rubbing his chin as he glances back to the three farmers.
Solbiort grins in agreement to Elgyn, her eyes dancing with amusement, "Sure surprised bandits. Couldn't happen to nicer group."
The discussion starts to involve other people at the bar, with voices starting to be raised -- but not any of the three's voices, though they're still very intent -- though still not loud enough to be clearly heard. Solbiort isn't particularly concerned or worried, knowing that in communities this small eventually everyone knows everyone else's business. The crew will hear what's up soon enough, even if they didn't want to. She enjoys dinner, chatting with her crew and the help here she knows... and waits. It'll come.
Elgyn's brow knits. "What in the world could be causing this kind of reaction from everyone..." he mutters, his lips a little looser due to the alcohol... he starts to get up, and then stops. He can see right then that this is what gets him in trouble -- the impulsiveness. He settles back and tries to follow Solbiort's lead.
Finally the three retreat, reluctantly and rather stoop-shouldered; the patrons of the bar side of the pub are not derisive but sound pretty firm in whatever it was their stance was. As if in response to Solbiort's thoughts, Maya comes up to the table, looking a little worn though smiling. "So, everything all right? Anything else I can get for you?"
Solbiort says, "Neh, all is fine, Maya." She pauses, then says curiously, "Those three -- new here?"
Maya glances to the door, and a cloud briefly covers her features. "Sort of," she says. "They're halfway across th' continent, about an hour's trip by flight, but they walked, rode, or hitched a ride to get here. They're Jains, I think. Nice enough folk. They were here last year lookin' for help from bandits. We sent about half a dozen deputies, and one came back. And now they're back this year. Sheriff Dobbs said we just don't have the girls to send out there this time, so they've been asking the spacers for help. Not havin' much luck with it all in all, sad to say."
Solbiort chuckles quietly, "Ah, am understanding. Sheh-sheh, Maya... both for information, und for not sending them right over to us."
Elgyn arches a brow, as it seems to be that the issue is bandits after all. "These bandits... they're not bothering anyone except for this one farm?" he queries, curiosity getting the better of him."
Maya says, "To be honest, Cap'n, Alice and I talked about it, but... didn't seem right to send them right to you. Figured you should decide that for y'self." She shakes her head to Elgyn. "There's still bandits here an' there, El -- rum lot of hundan that they are. The deputies hunt 'em down when they can. The Jains said that these bandits raid their town every year or so, taking their wheat and such. Been happenin' for five years now."
Solbiort hastily has a drink of her lager, firmly reminding herself she has a crew to take care of now -- she's not a footloose-and-fancy-free valkyrie any more! Elgyn hnhs... not a single farm, but an entire town... that's a horse of a different color. He notes Solbiort's reaction, and can guess what's going on in her head. And maybe she'd be right to be thinking that, but... "They've enough toughs to roust a whole town? They don't have any enforcement of their own?"
Solbiort rumbles quietly, "They're Jains, pretty. Pacifists."
Elgyn grimaces, looking contrite. "Forgot about that..."
Maya nods. "Least, that's what they usually are. I get the impression this bunch is gettin' a bit put-upon by the bandits. Five years'll test anyone's pacifism, I suppose." Solbiort half-chuckles, half-coughs into her lager.
Raj says, "These Jains are the folks that carry brooms to sweep bugs out of their path and eat only already dead plants, right? If they're that pacifistic, how is it OK for them to get other folks to do their dirty work? How do they expect to get this taken care of?" Solbiort considers that -- good point. She looks curiously at Maya for an answer.
Maya lifts her shoulders. "Dunno about that, sir. I've heard it said that three years ago they started trying to fight back against the bandits and got themselves several worlds' worth of hurt from the bandits for trying. So last year they came askin' for help and trainin' and weapons. The deputies, they went out to help and only Deputy Lisbet came back. And now they're back again. Been here for about five days, and a lot of the spacers are gettin' mighty tired of them. Alice and Bruce, they try to be courteous to them an' let them ask, but a lot of the spacers, they don't feel there's anythin' they can do.
Raj blinks, "Jains with weapons? Now there's a brain-bending thought."
Solbiort nods slowly... then asks Maya, "Vhy they not get training here, then, und take it back there?"
"Not sure, Cap'n. I get the impression they don't have much in the way of cashy plat, let alone things to trade or barter. Part of what they asked for last year was trainin'. I heard they got pretty badly beaten by the bandits all the same."
Solbiort says, "Ah. Poor boys."
Raj laughs a bit grimly, "Well, we're in the shipping business right now, and I don't think our papers cover gun-running." Solbiort nods slowly in agreement with Raj... and has another drink of her lager.
Maya nods, "Sheh-sheh. We all feel for 'em, but we ain't got enough deputies to send, an' the nearest squad of marshals is dealin' with a pirate hole on th' other side of the world."
Solbiort says in surprise, "Awful lot of hwoon dahns around right now?!" Elgyn says nothing, his face carefully neutral. But he makes a point of not refilling his mug. Nigel has seem distracted throughout the meal, eating somewhat mechanically and looking off into space. It almost looks like he's worried.
"Not a lot, no, Cap'n. Just a few of the orneriest holdouts. An' every so often rum folk from other worlds get the idea to settle or prey in the remoter areas of this one."
Solbiort says, "Mm. Vell, at least now you all know how to let zem know zey are not velcome, ya?"
Maya nods, smiling tightly. "Sheh-sheh, Cap'n. If they show their faces anywhere within five hundred miles of the docks, they get put out of business. Permamently."
Solbiort nods approvingly, "Goot for you, mei-mei! You und your people haf learned vell; am glad to see it."
With nothing else left for dinner, the crew pack up and head off back to the docks. As a going-away gift Alice gives them a ten-pounder oak keg of the local lager, as well as a smaller clay bottle of sweet rice wine that the Yueh shire over the other side of the hills sold to her a few months before. Solbiort gives Alice an exuberant hug of thanks, tips Maya handsomely, and happily shoulders the keg. "'Ey, Elgyn, pretty! Get mei-mei Molly's dinner und the vine, ching? Let's go, crew! Has been lofely night, und time to bring home goot food for Molly mei-mei!"
Elgyn carries the wine bottle like it was a stuffed bear, face creased in thought on the way home. At Solbiort's comment he grabs the carry-out container in his other hand. "Got it, Captain," he grunts.
The crew makes their way to where the mule is parked outside the pub. St. Andrew's is quiet at night; there's no rambunctious nightlife here -- unlike the typical docks on the Fringe. Communities like St. Andrew's have a reputation for being nice and safe even for the most innocent swai young man or woman to walk around at night... which begs the question of why there would be a scuffle down a side-alley near the pub, and what sounds like a muffled yelp followed by more scuffling and soft, harsh words.
Solbiort brightens hopefully, "Ooh! Fight?!" She sets the keg in the mule, then heads for the alley, tossing over her shoulder, "Be right back! Raj, you keep vatch on di-di Nigel und mule, ching?" Elgyn blinks as Solbiort reacts faster than he... to be fair, though, he was distracted by the bottle.
Raj eyes Solbiort, then says, "Sure. Have fun. Yell if you need me."
Solbiort laughs, "Ah, you are nice boy, Raj! Come, Elgyn -- sounds like fun, if you vant?"
Elgyn cricks his neck. "Don't know about fun, but... I'm game," he drawls, moving to back up Solbiort.
Solbiort and Elgyn move forward to the mouth of the alleyway. About a dozen yards in they see what look like four burly and grim spacers -- fighters, judging by their carriage and clothes -- and the three Jains. It's taking two of the spacers to hold on to the woman, while a third is strong enough to hold the younger of the two men. The fourth spacer is scowling and just drawing back a fist to punch the Jain in the stomach.
Solbiort cheerfully and sharply barks, "'Ey! Ozzers can play too?" as she strides towards the group, grinning. Elgyn doesn't entirely hold back a scowl... since he first heard this story, it's raised his hackles. This is exactly the kind of situation his Warrior's Code embodies. His fingers twitch, suddenly itching to intervene.
The spacers all look over sharply at Solbiort, and the lead one takes a half-step back from the Jain, who slumps back against the building. "Nothin' to see here, friend," she says gravely. For once this is a woman who is about the same height as Solbiort. "Jus' lettin' them know to stop harrassin' us."
"For five gorram days straight," the one holding the younger man grumbles.
I see, how have they been harassing you? Unkindly bleeding on your knuckles? Elgyn thinks acerbically.
Solbiort tilts her head curiously at the tall woman spacer, then says in Midgaardian, "You are of the People?"
Three of the four spacers -- including the woman -- look at Solbiort confusedly. "What...? Sorry, I'm not speakin' your language, friend...."
"She asked if you're Midgaardian, Angel," one of the men holding the Jain woman says quietly. "I think we should leave well enough 'lone -- this just became buyao ming de [life risking]."
Solbiort studies the man carefully, wondering if he's a former Midgaardian boy, and smiles at him. "Vell... am not currently looking to kill anyvon. Am hoping you are not either, ya?"
Angel casts an at-first irritated glance at the young man -- who appears to be a typical Fringer, but not a Midgaardian -- then a wary one, and looks back at Solbiort. It's hard to tell in the dark, but Angel has well-tanned skin, dark eyes, and is shorn bald. "Not lookin' to kill anyone at all, friend," she says easily, gesturing to the others. They let go of the Jains; the woman glowers at Angel, while the younger boy turns and looks ready to belt the guy who had been holding him but for a snapped order from the woman in Gujarati.
Solbiort gestures to the alleyway's entrance, watching the Jains, "Am thinking now vould be goot time to be elsevhere, ya?" Elgyn bottles his anger... thought the urge to give in to it is strong, it would seem that cooler heads are prevailing... as they should.
The Jain woman is looking at Solbiort as if she's considering asking a question, but the older man (who has recovered and stood again) gently takes her hand, murmuring something in Gujarati and starting to walk with her out of the alleyway. The woman looks irritated for a moment, then sighs and nods, pausing to tug on the sleeve of the younger man, who reluctantly follows. As they pass the woman ducks her head to Solbiort. "Thank you, miss," she murmurs quietly.
Solbiort nods politely to the woman, "You und yours be vell, mei-mei."
From outside the alleyway Raj can hear quiet conversation, then a woman's raised voice snapping out, "Hold your hand, Kaushal!" Shortly after that he and Nigel see the three Jains emerging from the alley. They look a little roughed up and disheveled, but alive and none the worse for wear.
Solbiort tilts her head thoughtfully at the four spacers. "Really now... vhat harm they do you?" Her voice is not remonstrating... just curious.
Angel grumbles a little. "Not much, at that. But every day for the past five days, do you know what it's like to see them around all the time, asking for help that they gorram well know nobody can give 'round here?"
Solbiort considers a moment, then asks, "So... if your ship vere grounded from mechanical problem you could not fix, und you knew likely it vas no von could help, you vould not ask anyvon?"
The tall captain says, "T'ain't that. They see a burly crew and they think we can nance off halfway across the world and get killed? We fight, sure. But I've got a crew to care about, and I'm not sendin' the five of them off to get killed where five deputies got themselves massacred. At first I didn't mind the askin', but after five days of it...."
Solbiort shrugs and says, with a glint in her eyes, "Vell... can see how annoying vould be to be forced to listen to sad und helpless people, und not be able to help them at all. Seem only logical to me too, to beat the go se out of them -- should fix all their problems, ya?" She smiles slowly, adding, "But zen, perhaps I am chust violent sort. Am sure you could come up vith better answer than I." She grins, adding, "Vell, if no fight here, should be going. Haf goot night!"
Angel snorts. "Yeah, well, I'll apologize to them later if they don't get hold of the deputy first. Yeah... you too." She glances to the others. "C'mon, let's back to the ship."
Solbiort chuckles, turning and heading out of the alleyway, making sure Elgyn is in front of her. She's got her sixth sense for attacks from behind as alert as she can be. Elgyn is quietly at Solbiort's side, though he doesn't seem to be quite obliging her by letting her actually get between him and the crew. Being the protective sort and all. He's sure it causes her no end of annoyance, but... they do look at these things differently. Solbiort waves to the other two crew in the mule as she emerges from the alleyway, "Alas, false alarm, no fighting fun to be had!" She leaps lightly into the mule, and about an hour later they're back at the ship. Molly is praised for her bravery and intestinal fortitude, and handed a delicious dinner.
Molly for her part has had a rough evening, and there's the faintest whiff of something unpleasant in the galley finally disappearing through the scrubbers. She looks a little green when the crew finds her, gulping in lungfuls of Triumph's night air. "Re-breather failed," she grouses, a bit short of breath. "Faulty seal. Had to check the rest of the gear after disposin' of the food... of the ex-food."
Solbiort winces in sympathy, giving Molly a careful hug, "Oh, goddess. Sit, mei-mei. Relax, have a drink, ya?"
Molly sinks into the seat gratefully. "But... galley is cleaned, and emergency gear all checks out." She takes a cautious sniff. "An' it finally smells better in here. Thanks, Nigel. Praise Buddha you keep the scrubbers perfect."
Solbiort chuckles, "You did goot, mei-mei -- goot vork."
Raj says, "I appreciate you trying to do this on your own, Molly but you could have waited a bit and let us help. It's not like this was an emergency."
Molly smiles quietly to Solbiort. "Thanks, captain. And Raj, I'm sorry. I just... wanted to get this done. Then when I saw... and smelled... that the re-breather had failed, I needed to check the others."
Raj laughs, "No worries. Just don't hurt yourself too much unless it's really, really necessary." Solbiort nods amusedly.
Elgyn pats the keg. "It's good beer, at least, that you could drown your sorrows in. Just leave a little for us."
Molly laughs softly to Elgyn. "Thanks, but maybe not now. Already a bit light-headed from the galley. Mph. But it's all clean and ready for good food."
As the group drove back to the Chimera, Elgyn had seemed deep in thought He was quiet most of the way back, in fact remained so up to when he and Solbiort were back in their shared cabin. It is while he is removing his boots that his shoulders square, as if he's finally made up his mind about something. "C-...Solbiort. I am curious. What are the expectations of the average Valkyrie in Midgaardian society?" He has asked questions like this before, though not in a long time... asking them seemed to make him uncomfortable. But he seems quite calm about it now.
Solbiort grins with resigned amusement from where she's sitting at her desk, as Elgyn speaks. She'd seen this coming by Elgyn's body language, and figured he'd pipe up once they were in private. Regardless, he deserves a good answer, so she lays down her stylus and swivels her chair to face him. Stretching out her legs, she gives the question some thought... then replies slowly, "Each arcology has own specifics for valkyrior there, pretty. You looking for those of my home, or for valkyrior in general?"
Elgyn says, "Valkyrior in general. What are their responsibilities?"
Solbiort raises an eyebrow, "Is different qvestion, pretty. Vhich you asking for: expectations, or responsibilities?"
Elgyn pauses, as if trying to figure out how to phrase this. "Both, in a manner of speaking. I want to know... what it is that valkyrior are expected to do as a matter of course. Specifically, related to guardianship."
Solbiort says, "Ah! Are not meaning expectations held by valkyrior -- are meaning vhat ozzers expect of valkyrior?"
Elgyn nods. "Exactly."
Solbiort chuckles quietly, lazily running her thick scarlet braid through one hand as she considers, "Vell, zhat is ozzer qvestion entirely, ya. Let's see... valkyrior are protectors of ze people. Values are generally part of code of honor: generosity, honesty, justice, strength, ferocity, fearlessness, und courage for those who depend on you for protection." She studies Elgyn curiously, "Vhy you ask?"
Elgyn holds up a hand. "Bear with me for a moment, Solbiort, " he murmurs. "We have had many... adventures. Some of them were admittedly mostly in the course of luck or business... and some of them involved no more than simple enjoyment. But there were times when we did for others with no guaranteed reward for us other than the satisfaction of doing the right thing. Did you consider that your responsibility as a valkyrior?"
Solbiort says, "No."
Elgyn nods slowly. "I see. Why not?"
Solbiort says, "Did it for fun." She smiles, "Did it for learning, or enjoyment. Vhy you do it?"
Elgyn purses his lips. "In part I did it because you were my leader. But it would be false to say that I did not take some satisfaction out of doing it. Not specifically enjoyment... but because I felt I was serving the purpose for which an Ulundi warrior was meant to serve. I was glad that our travels gave us these opportunities to be... heroic."
Solbiort smiles, resting her head against her fist, "Pretty, valkyrior's responsibility is first und foremost to folk supporting her, who she protects. Vhen ve vandering about, vas only you. Now have more -- have entire crew. Is von thing for two of us to gallivant about endangering ourselves for fun und to help others... is anozzer to drag non-varriors about vhen they have no vish to go, und vant only to be safe und healthy." She shrugs a bit reluctantly, "Is part of growing up, I suppose. Have to think of ozzers before youreslf."
Elgyn shakes his head. "I understand that, Solbiort. I truly do," he assures her. "I am not suggesting that we... that you unilaterally put Raj or Molly or Nigel in harm's way." Solbiort continues to watch Elgyn thoughtfully, a small smile on her face. She nods for him to continue.
Elgyn grimaces. "It just... it feels wrong to simply walk away from someone in need. When a person's house is on fire, you do not deny them water. The people here, the ones we helped... I can understand why they cannot act: not because they would not, but because to do so would seem to be throwing good money after bad, and weaken them further. But their situation is different from ours. We prosper, and we have resources they do not. Even though there is no clear tangible benefit for doing so... I still would help them. Because it is the right thing to do."
Solbiort nods inquiringly. Elgyn sighs, wilting slightly. "But that is only my own opinion. I wanted... I wanted to know if you felt at all the same. The idea that these... these jackals in human flesh would prey on these folk specifically because they know they will not fight back... it is offensive." His fists clench. "I hoped that we might try and convince the others together to do something about these bandits.
Solbiort nods, "Zhen you should do so, Elgyn. Ask the ozzers on the crew vhat they think; find out if they are villing to help, or even chust to vait vhile ve take care of ze problem. You are fellow crew, not captain. Vill be no pressure to agree vith you like there vould be for captain."
Elgyn blinks, at first not clear he heard right. Then his face lights up. "I... I will, Solbiort. That is an excellent idea," he replies enthusiastically.
Solbiort smiles quietly, "Am glad to hear that, pretty. Is not reqvest I can make... but you can. But did not vant to ask you to, and put pressure on you too."
Elgyn tilts his head. "So... you wanted to help them, too? Why? I may have translated my code to be applicable to more than just my own people... but from what you said, you care most about your family... this crew. By that reckoning, helping them would not be a wise choice."
Solbiort smiles lazily, "Does it matter the vhy of my vanting?"
"If you were just my captain -- my sonia -- then no, it would not," Elgyn says softly, coming over and putting his hand on Solbiort's shoulder. "But because you are more to me than that.... then I would know your mind if you would share it."
Solbiort smiles and gently pulls Elgyn onto her lap, settling her arms loosely about his waist, "Vell then... is responsibility thing, pretty. Goot valkyrie keeps priorities straight, und my immediate priorities are crew -- folk who are my responsibility." She sighs softly, rubbing her chin gently against Elgyn's hair, and muses aloud, "But... is also true valkyrior enjoy helping ozzers. Is long-standing tradition of heroism amongst valkyrior, you know? So... am torn. Vould like to help... but am not villing to endanger reluctant crew in process. Have already done so vith Vintarsen, und that ve escape only by skin of teeth und Freya's smile on us."
Elgyn nods, his expression serious. "In comparison to that, of course, a mere troupe of bandits would seem to be a small thing... but you are right. I will ask them, and nothing more. To be honest, to take on a bandit crew would make up for the weight I have felt since the end of the Wintarsen affair," he murmurs, seated quite happily in Solbiort's lap, his dark fingers curling into her hair.
Solbiort curiously asks, "Vhat veight, pretty?"
Elgyn's expression turns grim. "We did not start this mess... Far Thunder, Wintarsen, any of it. And yet I cannot help but feel guilty -- that our actions have led to making this worse. Fomenting further unrest that would lead to needless conflict."
Solbiort nods quietly, "Ya, this also vorries me." She sighs gustily, her gaze far away, "Is von of reasons vhy I am vishing to help against forces of chaos vhere ve may... vhere crew is not endangered." She smiles slowly, adding, "Und... am not vild about idea of endangering hopeful sveinhross either."
Elgyn's hand slides up to touch Solbiort's cheek, smiling fondly. "I am reminded of something one of my unit was given to say: so far, life is one hundred percent fatal. The rest is just details," he replies, finding it odd to have his heart leap at the idea of being a 'horse.' "I would not be me if I was not willing to risk all for that which I believed in."
Solbiort smiles slowly again, her emerald gaze studying Elgyn thoughtfully... then she chuckles, wrapping her arms around him as she rises and heads for the bed, "Vell, let us risk only some loss of sleep then ya?"
Elgyn smiles shyly, happily letting himself be tugged along. "Of course, some risks are more enjoyable than others..."
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