"After our meeting with the King, Zhouth, after we've been released to our own devices," Varca says through the vocoder in his helmet, "I have a few ship supply sources--from my days back with the Star Guard Scouts--that I can tap."

     Varca turns his helmeted head, to momentarily glance forward, towards the Princess, then back to Zhouth, "I have a feeling that the use of a lot of that scrounged, lower-tech equipment in the Harrier was intentional on the part of the Drinaxi technicians.  They didn't want the repairs traced back to Drinax."

     Varca leans a little closer to Zhouth, and the volume from his vocoder lessens,

     "We need to keep that in mind, somewhat, as well, with any repairs we make prior to arriving at Tech-World...or wherever.  If the plan is to claim we found the Harrier floating in space--or crashed on a planet--and we're salvaging her, we shouldn't go having clean synth-silk sheets on the beds and fresh gourmet Drinaxi foods in the cooler, yeah?"

     "I'm not saying we don't stock up on that stuff while we're here--I can get that kinda stuff here, easy.  I'm just saying we should store it away, and go easy on it's use, until after we get the ship registered someplace far away from Drinax."

  "I wasn't thinking of luxury bedding with the royal seal!" Zhouth exclaimed with a wave of one hand, then grinned and added with an almost mischievous look. "And, well, you have a different idea of luxury food than I do."

  "We've clearly passed through Drinax, though. The astrogation logs will tell them that much, right? So no harm if we get some things here, as long as the receipt doesn't have Oleb's name on it." A thought came to him and he added, "Well, maybe one of the really old Olebs, if we find pieces that look the part! Everything I've heard and read so far says that shouldn't be too hard."

     Varca hooks a thumb towards Theo,

     "He looks like an Imperial." Varca sneers through his helmet's vocoder, "And nothing like a Prodigal Son of Drinax, returned Home at last."

     "Still..." Varca turns his helmeted head, and looks Theodore up and down, "Damn, Theo!  You win the last war all by your lonesome?"

     Varca turns back to Cyrus, "As for this..." Varca taps the Drinax Crest on his chest, "I'm allowed.  I'm a Veteran.  I just...took a little...liberty...with the placement..."

     Varca reaches with his gloved right hand and taps the side of his left shoulder,

     "That's all..."

     "True enough." Varca responded, "I recall the words of a Sanitation Engineer I met on the Floating Palace, some years back--a Baronet something-or-other--she referred to going through forgotten back rooms of the Palace and checking old closets and lockers as...Antiquing..."

Ingrid smiles shyly at Cyrus "Thank you, you are too kind."

"What sort of things are you looking for?" she asks Zhouth curiously.

"Good morning Teddy" she chirps. "Looking forward to meeting his majesty?"

"Oh, I should like to get some foodstuffs for cooking, but I won't get anything too fancy" she said to Varca. "Wandering through forgotten areas of the palace, that must be interesting."

In reply to Ingrid Gustavdottir Sigar (msg # 19):

     "I suppose." Varca responds to Ingrid, with a shrug, from his seat, "As you might expect, Vespexers are Minimalists.  The Palacer's tendency to...hoard...all those artifacts--to have so many...possessions...that you can forget about some of them for decades...centuries..."

     Varca's vocoder does an impressive job of passing on a remorseful sigh,

     "It's completely irrational behaviour to us.  It's one of the reasons most Vespexers have such a hard time relating with our sky-bound cousins."

     Varca's tone suddenly changed to one more wistful,

     "Although...during the last few years I was in the Star Guard Scouts, I gained the patronage of someone who showed me some of the more...pleasant...aspects of a non-Minimalist lifestyle.  I didn't give up the Vespexer Way completely, mind you, but I learned to appreciate some of the better things, beyond just survival."

     "Don't tell Rejji." Varca adds with amusement.

"I'll tell him all your dirty little secrets!" Teddy says with a grin.

"You look simply delicious Ingrid!"

Teddy fastens his seat belts when they get ready to land, making sure he doesn't get thrown from his seat.

"Oh oui..yes, we can all tell you have gone soft!"

Cyrus laughed at his own joke.

"Zhis zhing is a zhing I do not zhink you need to worry about mes ami."


Knowing that her dress could be a hindrance in the situation Cyrus offered to help Ingrid get buckled in.

"You will save me dance Chere, non?"

The shuttle is only capable of Thrust-3, so it'll take about 36 hours to reach Drinax. The ship had jumped to a point in the near asteroid belt that was closest to Drinax in its orbit.

The system shuttle is reasonably spacious. The seats recline, there's a fresher at the rear (2 actually), and the ship serves 'airline' food, though it is first class airline food. Plus there's plenty of alcohol.

Almost oddly, the Princess is, apparently, the co-pilot. She does come back into the aft passenger compartment from time to time to converse with the group, including answering any questions they might have. But it quickly becomes obvious that she doesn't have a lot of answers... at least not to the questions you have.

In reply to StarMaster (msg # 24):

     As the system shuttle starts towards Drinax, and everyone settles in, Varca polarizes the faceplate of his helmet and settles back in the seat--then remains completely still for the next several hours.

"I suppose I can understand that" Ingrid says to Varca. "Some of the people on Sting have similar beliefs."

Ingrid smiles at Theodore. "Oh, thank you!" she says happily. She twirls around, letting her skirts swirl out around her. "This is the style on Tizon, I think it suits me. I hope the royals will agree"

She lets Cyrus help her buckle in. "Oh yes, I will" she responds shyly. "You know I love dancing"

Ingrid passes the time asking questions about Drinax, about what she still doesn't know much. She also reads a novel from home, and chatters sometimes to Theodore about the Sword Worlds, since he's been there too; Ingrid never says so, but she is homesick sometimes.

After reminiscing with Ingrid for several hours, Teddy takes a nap in his seat. He'll sit quietly while she sleeps after he wakes, millions of thoughts going through his head as he thinks about what is happening to them. The king was a fool and they would probably all die, but they would die in glory.

  Zhouth lackadaisically plopped down into one of the seats as if they were about to go on a theme-park ride rather than taking a shuttle trip to meet local royalty, but that was very much in keeping with his personal style to date. He could put on a bit of gravitas when he had to, but they were at least a day and a half away from that.

  It didn't take long for the sight of everyone in dress uniforms to make him think of one of the earlier exchanges he'd had with Cyrus. "So, tell us all about these psionic pirates and your gallant battles against them! Professional interest, you know, and it sounds like a good story!"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:38, Sat 21 Sept 2019.

"Psychics... that's frightening" Ingrid adds

"Gallant is  perhaps too strong a word Professor."

"Zhe first time was some years ago when I was still serving in zhe Strend Intersteller Navy aboard zhe light cruiser "La Bourreau", Zhe Headsman in Galanglic."

"Zhe Strend cluster is proud of it's navy you see and zhe safety zhat it can provide. It is known zhat no one will lightly face zhem in battle. Not even zhe Hierate or zhe Imperium."

He cast a sidelong glance at Teddy.

"Only zhe very best can do so and survive."

"L'Œil Mauvais damaged this reputation. He struck zhe cluster's outposts wizhout warning or mercy."

"In his zhird raid he stole a frigate, zhe Epee, which had halted at Sable Des Etoiles for emergency repairs. Zhis bold move would prove his downfall."

"Zhe navy personnel zhat survived had recorded zhe attack you see and many of L'Œil's secrets were revealed to us. He had zhree espair marines who could teleport wizh 'orrible accuracy."

"We 'ad not seen zhis before you see and zhe crew of zhe Bourreau was enraged."

He looked away thoughtfully at that and his mouth formed a grim flat line before he continued.

"Zhey had no chance to escape us. Zhe Epee's J Drive was broken you see, and repairs had not been completed. Zhe escaping nazy men had set a bomb zhat guaranteed it could not be done quickly."

"We hunted zhem among zhe planetoids for two days. L'Œil could have made good his escape in his corsair at any time but he would not abandon zhe men he had sent over to crew zhe Epee. We were too close for hem too be recovered."

"When at last we had zhem trapped he attacked. A four hundred tonne Corsair and a crippled Frigate against a Light Cruiser of zhe Marine Interstellaire de Strend."

"It was zhe bravest, most foolish, act I have seen. Both pirate ships were completely crippled in a quarter of an hour. But L'Œil Mauvaise was not yet defeated..."

"He and his espair marine commandos teleported aboard the Bourreau, directly onto zhe bridge."

"Zhey detonated TDX mines, gravitically polarized charges, upon arrival zhat disabled or killed most of the bridge crew instantly. Many of my friends died zhen."

"Zhe Captain and myself were spared by an accident of architecture. On zhe Sabre Class light cruiser you see zhe captain commands from a dais raised one point five meters above zhe level of zhe bridge. As zhe Zhird Officer by Strend Navy tradition  my battle station was as zhe captain's bodyguard and so I was wizh him on zhe dais."

"Zhe blast passed above zhe raiders and below zhe Captain and myself. I killed one of zhe raiders almost immediately wizh my stagger laser rifle but ztill we were outnumbered zhree to two."

"To his credit Captain Beaudonnier was a master swordsman. Much of what I know is due to him. He quickly struck down one of zhe raiders leaving our battle even but my foe was as skilled as myself and I needed time to gain zhe advantage of him."

"It was zhen zhat L'Œil revealed his most terrible power. Wizh his Esper's Mind he struck down zhe Captain, as a maid might snuff a candle at bedtime, and zhen he drove his blade into him where he lay."

"A great man died!"

Cyrus' emotion, somewhere between anger and sorrow, was clear.

"In my rage I beheaded zhe last raider and, seeking to distract L'Œil, hurled his head at the pirate captain as I charged him."

"Zhere were you see many zhings I did not know at zhe time."

"I did not know zhat only zhe most rare and powerful of espers can perform a telepazhic assault more zhan once."

"I did not know zhat zhe man I had just killed was L'Œil's 'usband."

"He met me wizh his blade and went berzerk. We fought like animals. Both in righteous fury and feeling zhat any gambit, no matter how low, was justified in order to gain revenge."

"In zhe end...I was younger, perhaps stronger, and due to my Strendian heritage I was augmented. His esper powers were spent."

"In zhe end my static blade pierced his armor and he died. He fell zhere wizh his men."

Again Cyrus' eyes took on a faraway look.

"He spoke to me before he died."

"His last words were, "Against All Flags!"

"The pirate was a Zhodane? Or just trained by them?"

"We found evidence aboard his ship zhat he was a Zhodani noble but it could not be confirmed. Zhe Consulate denied any knowledge of him or even zhe possibility that a Zhodani noble could turn pirate."

"Ahhh, the only good Zhodani is a dead one! All those head games!"

  Zhouth's expression was knowing at first - the threat of teleporting Zhodani marines was one of the reasons why the Vanejen program had been set up to begin with - and transitioned quickly to disquiet and sympathy as the story progressed, especially as the duel unfolded in words.

  "Teleporting marine squads are a signature Zhodani trick, but they're hardly alone in doing it, they're just the organized ones that the Imperium likes to wrangle with. Zhodani or not, hearing you tell it, that was a bad day for everyone. You're right though: brain-melting more than once after a teleport? That would take psi-drugs. A lot of psi-drugs. Enough to risk melting their own brain." The wan grin was back once again in a way that suggested that Zhouth may have witnessed just such an event...

  He took a moment to settle himself and gave Cyrus a quick pat on the arm. "You did what you had to, and now I get why you want everyone to know how to use those things." He pointed at Cyrus's ceremonial blade. "I'm trying, but so far I think I'd still be more dangerous waving a feather duster about."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Mon 23 Sept 2019.

"A most enlightening story, Cyrus," Princess Rao responds.

"The Sindalian Empire had worked out a defense against teleporting marines... or any other teleporting people. You can use life sensors programmed to target anyone who wasn't there five seconds ago."

"A less sophisticated method is to fill all open spaces with a maze of razor wire. Only the real crew will know how to get through it."

"Both are a lot of trouble, and no one really takes those precautions until and unless they know they will encounter such an enemy."

Ingrid listens attentively to Cyrus' story. "That was brave of you, Cyrus." she says; a very high compliment from a Sword Worlder. "I'm sorry about Captain Beaudonnier."

"I don't think I could live like a Zhodane… afraid of what I was thinking" she says, shivering a little.

"Sword Worlders often fight with swords. It's traditional, as one would imagine" Ingrid says. She giggles at Zouth's joke. "Why don't you leave the dusting to me, Zhouth?"

  Zhouth shook his head in response to Rao's description of Sindalian countermeasures. "That sounds like something error-prone to me. Five-second sensor outage, or even just a blind spot you're in for five seconds, and suddenly your own defenses are shooting at you? Safer to deal with the marines!"

  Ingrid's second comment prompted a laugh and an attempt to lighten the mood around the subject. "Oh, Zhodani don't need to worry about what they're thinking. They only need to worry about what the thinkers think of what they're thinking!" He held one hand up and out and swirled it in a circle, smiling broadly. "Sorry, Vanejen humor. Now you have to hope it doesn't get stuck in your head!"

  He lapsed back into a quieter mood. "Something I learned working there though? Most telepath types aren't really big on joy-riding in other peoples' brains. It takes effort to do it, and they have enough thoughts bouncing around inside their own, like anyone else, so if they do go poking about in yours, they've got some reason more important than because it's there." He paused for a moment, considering his own words, then shook his head and sighed. "That doesn't actually sound very reassuring, does it? Guess it's just one of those professional perspective things."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Mon 23 Sept 2019.

     "Yet another example of the kind of heavy-handed thinking that brought down the Glorious Dragon Empire of Sindal." Varca says via his helmet's vocoder, from where he reclines, "And it's many Inheritor Kingdoms."

     For the first time in hours, Varca finally moves--raising his gloved fist and extending his index finger upwards,

     "Brought down all the Inheritor Kingdoms--save one!" Varca lowers his hand and taps the Royal Drinax Crest adorning his armored chest.

     "Mostly..." Varca adds.

     Varca raises his seat to an upright position, and de-polarizes his helmet's faceplate, exposing most of his face to view.

     "Although, filling a room with razor wire sounds amusing." Varca turns to look over at Zhouth, "I'm not claiming any expert source materials, Zhouth, but most of the entertainment vids I've seen that had anything to do with teleporting villains usually made a point of saying that it wasn't possible to teleport into solid material--y'know, either the place they were teleporting into had to be completely clear, or they couldn't...y'know...arrive."

     "I always wondered about that, because, what about the air that they would be displacing, even if they are teleporting into a so-called clear area?    Is there some kind of Mass-Density restriction, there, or what?"

"Materializing with razor wire through your heart would be a bad and messy thing I believe." Teddy chimed in.