Imperial Palace Gounds
Dryn Savato
Draconia

The trumpeting wheeze of the TARDS sound fading away behind him, Sereth stands on the Avenue of Homage that leads toward the Imperial Palace.

To either side, the Preserve stretches out.  The meticulously cultivated grounds that stretch around the palace proper are a unique sub-ecology that can only persist with the careful attention of the Emperor's entire staff of trained botanists and bio-ethnologists.  It is a finely crafted melange of species from the two hundred and thirty-seven systems that comprise the empire; it is art and edifice and metaphor for stewardship all in one, wide enough to swallow up the sub-estates allocated to honored guests and high officials, broad enough that the bustle of the surrounding metropolis of Dryn Savato does not penetrate the stillness.

Ahead of Sereth stretches the Avenue and its thirty-six shrines of contemplation that mark out the supplicant's proper path to approach the throne.  And above, of course, the nine-tiered palace itself with its layers of overlapping eaves.  After the original structure, built in antiquity of blue Edrangian granite, was shattered in the Second Dalek War, the reconstruction was made with a stone cladding over impervite alloy.  By now it, too, is ancient, and it has never fallen since.

Sereth notes the sparse flow of traffic coming back his way from the palace, moving from shrine to shrine to perform each departing obeisance.  Some of those returning from their business at the Palace are casting curious glances Sereth's way, which surprises him.  He checks that the signs of his office are in place and that the Traveller's lamentable holo-disguise is not active.  All seems in order, so perhaps it is just his rank that attracts attention – yet that very station should have quelled any improper impulse to gawk.

Then he realizes that some of those furtive stares were directed not precisely at him, but behind him – and, he realizes with a sinking feeling, rather lower than his eyeline.

He turns, and is unsurprised to discover the wide-eyed form of Smoke Alarm looking all around her.

'Wow!' Smoke Alarm breathed out, impressed by the eyesights all around her and bubbling over with questions. 'Your Umperor has an icehot tower! It's almost as big as Tower B at Paradise Towers. How many alleviators are there? Is there a great pool in the sky there too? And these parks are fab. I eyespy hardly any trolleys. Are there any dogs and cats?'

His eyes widened slightly, before recovering his decorum.He eyed Smoke alarm warily, then shaking his head.

"Smoke Alarm. Why aren't you back with the Traveller? This isn't exactly a place where humans, or Kangs even, are welcomed with open arms."

The Draconians might be at peace; and with the recent troubles on Asura Prime, they may have even worked together. But a human, indeed, any non-Draconian, here? There were prejudices amongst all races; even his own noble race fell prey to it from time to time.

Outlooking downwards, Smoke Alarm pouted, a dark look on her face under her blue-black hair. If there'd been any stones on the floor, she would've kicked them around in a sulk. 'She'd only want to take me home-sweet-home.' she muttered unhappily. Traveller getting the co-ordy-nats from the Doctor had been the last step, she was all ready-steady to track back to Paradise Towers. Except the idea had filled Smoke with alarm, with all sorts of conflicting emotions. So she'd nipped unseen out the exit after Sereth, anything to get away. Brightening, she eyespied Sereth again. 'So I wanted to eyespy yours instead. Is your apartment in there?' she asked quickly, pointing to the Palace.

Apartment. Well. He supposed he'd have to show Smoke his home at some point; but he'd need to get her prepared for things first. He didn't know if any of his... associates... except the Traveller herself, understood what he was here. Smoke would soon enough find out though.

"Not quite. I don't -live- in the palace. That is my Emperor's home. He is my Lord; though he doesn't treat those who follow him badly." A pause. "You know, she may just want to know she -can- take you home, rather than take you home right now." Smoke's, and even Stanley's, desire to travel with the Traveller still confounded the Draconian. He looked about him; revelling in being home again. How could anyone -not- want to be home? He had obeyed his Emperor, to not only the letter, but also the spirit of his commands - but the Fists were done. He had played his part in that, helping the Traveller, and helping her with far more that did not effect Draconia's place in the universe. This? This was a homecoming. He would report to his Emperor, and, he would be re-assigned. He must remember to see if Gilso had managed to make it back home as well.

OOC: A few basics Sereth would be aware of:

- He would have claim to some accommodations on the palace estate, if not in the palace itself
- There are offices for the governmental apparatus elsewhere in the city that he would have access to, if needed.  I assume his actual home is elsewhere on the planet.
- His authority is sufficient to account for Smoke Alarm's presence, although of course he would bear responsibility for her.

'But she's always talky about it! I knowhow Trav wants to visit the Towers. But, but no ballgames, no flyposts, no visitors.' she recited firmly, but that wasn't quite true any more, she just needed an excuse.

Catching Sereth's explanation and really wanting to change the subject, she said 'Wait, you mean that big tower is all the Emperor's home-sweet-home? Just him?' She whirled around, taking in the vast parks, realising these were just the gardens, and she could fit a good deal of Paradise Towers in here. 'What a waste of space! The big boss isn't that big, is he?'
This message was last edited by the player at 02:12, Tue 17 Nov 2015.

Sereth notices that one of the palace functionaries has approached, though the slight Draconian is holding back at a discreet distance and carrying himself in a self-effacing posture.

Keen-eyespied Smoke Alarm didn't miss the loitering bellhopper either, and eyespied him warily. She lowered her voice to Sereth, saying 'Outlooks this one wants to how-you-do. Should I how-you-do him?' She raised her hands in ready-steadiness.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:30, Thu 17 Dec 2015.

He murmured.

"It's not all for him, no. But he -is- a big deal, Smoke. A. Very. Big. Deal." Enunciating each word very clearly. "Well, it's too late to do anything about it now. You'll have to stay with me until we can contact her. But Smoke? You have to be on your best behavior, your absolute best. And you -must- stay near me. Non-Draconians are rarely allowed in the palace; and only if an important enough Draconian in good standing speaks for them." He leaves unspoken that his honor, right now, is in her hands. That the trouble she got into on many of the places they'd been, would reflect back on Sereth; and that he would be the one to answer for it.

When the palace functionary approached, he put out a hand to stop Smoke.

"No. I am sorry Smoke, but you cannot. You must play by my rules on this planet, especially here." He then approached the man, and nodded, his noble bearing shining through.

"You needed to see me?"

It was no doubt a summons to see the Emperor; but he had to be sure. Besides, he never assumed anything.

'Best? But Blue Kangs are best—' she insisted, catching herself before bursting into the singsong. Sereth was always serious, so Smoke Alarm couldn't show-and-tell if he was being really extra serious this time or not. Eyespying him, she figured he was, in fact, being really extra serious about this. A to-do here would be a big to-do for Sereth too. She felt rather unbold about the comeout here. 'Okay, I knowhow, the palace is the Draconians' brainquarters. So I'll be a goodie girl with two shoes and butter in her mouth. No ballgames, no flyposts, no to-dos. I pinkie-swear.' she promised solemnly, crossing both her little fingers.

She followed Sereth, waiting until he did his own, much more yawny how-you-do to the bellhopper. Feeling she ought to do something, she did the curtsey from the end of the Kang how-you-do, figuring that would be okay.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:35, Tue 17 Nov 2015.

The official folds his arms, palms flat against his shoulders, and bows deeply to Sereth.  "My life at your command," he says.  "Your arrival was unanticipated, lord, although your biometry has been registered and confirmed.  May I bear news of your presence to the Keeper of the Days, that he might schedule an audience with the Instrument of Heaven?  Or is your business urgent enough that it requires expedition?"

He straightens.  "I am Zhensassan, Fifth Factor of Days.  If your time is not pressing, I shall be pleased to serve any needs or arrangements required by you, or your...."  He hesitates a fraction, eyes flicking to Smoke Alarm.



"...Guest," he finishes.

Sereth nodded.

"Indeed. There is no urgent rush for my mission. In fact, you could say that an audience is the reason for my return." A pause. "Tell me, can you find out if refugees, Draconian refugees in point of fact, made it back here from Arsuran?"

Smoke Alarm loitered quietly though not patiently while Sereth and the bellhopper got talky. At the mention of refugees from Arsuran, she opened her mouth, about to ask about Fadreen, but stop-signed after outlooking to Sereth. She'd find out soonly anyhow.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Thu 19 Nov 2015.

Zhensassan produces a datapad and consults it.

"Indeed, Legate," he says smoothly.  "I show here several arrivals from the Arsuran interdiction zone.  There are cross-references to your office on the ship Bounty of Hrevistis Warren... a note indicating a Commendation of Merit issued to its captain... a set of passenger dossiers, with debriefing sessions carried out from the office of the Keeper of Warcraft.  Petitions for compassionate assistance, and the like.  I can transfer these records on your authority, but was there some particular item of interest with which I may assist?"

"Yes. There was a young man who provided particular help, and if he did arrive safely, I wish to arrange a meeting with him. Gilso was his name." A glance towards Smoke Alarm. "My young friend, no doubt, will wish to catch up with the young girl she befriended as well." A sharp look towards Smoke though - this was -not- Arsuran. Her Kang games would not be ignored; and Draconian security was far superior to that of the Fists; no matter what they thought of themselves.

OOC: I can't actually remember if Fadreen's family returned to Draconia with the refugees or not. I'm thinking they stayed to help?

The bellhopper was all kinds of yawny, but Smoke stuck around to hear him show-and-tell her about Fadreen. 'Fadreen.' Smoke Alarm supplied helpfully, trying to hurry-up the show-and-tell. 'Desad. Fadreen and Penya and Szesak Desad. And I'm Smoke Alarm.'

OOC: I think you're right.  A lot of the people specifically evacuated on that trip were people who weren't really in shape or in a position to aid the resistance.

However (wave, wave):

The functionary taps a few commands, frowns slightly.  "He seems not to have been on that vessel.  A moment...."  He works a little more, then bows.  "My lord.  I find a Gilso Desad noted as a volunteer auxiliary attached under an intelligence initiative being managed by the Keeper of Secrets.  He is presently on Draconia receiving special surveillance training with a number of other Arsuran citizens."

At Smoke Alarm's interjection, Zhensassan stiffens fractionally, but perhaps not so much that anyone without Sereth's keen attention to protocol would notice.  Certainly Zhensassan speaks politely enough when he responds, "Fadreen Desad appears to be part of this group as well."  And if Zhensassan has any opinion about the involvement of females in this effort, it can't be read from his tone or his posture.

'Intelligence?' Smoke Alarm wondered. 'Well, Fadreen is a smarty-pants. Mayhaps not so good an eyespy, but she should be icehot at that.'

Well, at least they'd kept their thoughts to themselves. Sereth shook his head.

"Well, if you would get a message through to them that when they have a moment, I would like to see them both."

It was of course possible that they would be too busy. His concerns about Gilso had faded upon hearing what he was doing regardless; but Smoke should have a chance for a formal goodbye to her friend. She would be unlikely to see her again, after this after all.

"Certainly."  Zhensassan makes a few entries.

He studies his pad for a bit, and then says, "There is a place in the contingent schedule for an audience at the tenth hour, the day following tomorrow.  With your permission, I will enter the appropriate petitions and courtesies into the record; you may expect the summons once the Office of Days has conveyed them to His Majesty.  Is there any other service I may offer?"

The day after tomorrow! That was ages away! And it meant waiting on Draconia, with all its rules and yawnyness, much much longerer than expected. 'Yes, whereabouts are the public bathrooms?' After all, if they were going to be here that long, she would need to know.