Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 9, 2013 21:46:53 GMT -5
A Useful Hourglass Act 1
Johann O’Keefe, self-described Senechal Supreme, strode with no small amount of trepidation towards the Lady Captain’s throne on the bridge of the modified Saber-class starship, The Beacon. He had ill news to tell his master, and she would only deny that there was a problem. She was a woman of good breeding, Kalliope Rhea, but she was a little too flighty with her plans for his taste. She was certainly competent, and had some undisclosed background with the Imperial Navy, although he wondered if that was more as an enlisted voidsman. She was certainly old enough to have achieved some rank, but she had aged well -- the only signs that she was older than some 40 standard years were the wrinkles around her hazel eyes and her blonde hair starting to go slightly gray. She still cut a trim figure in her uniform, and could best many of the crew at sparring. When she bothered to commit herself, she was also a formidable Regicide opponent. However, she’d only bested Johann once, when she had been particularly angry at a large transaction gone sour. The functioning XO thought about how the frustration and worry that characterized that era in his life were about to color these as well.
They sat, stymied in extreme orbit of Loderia, unable to pay the registration fees for lower orbit and offloading of cargo - a particularly nasty species of primate that was sold to them as beasts of burden and potential food source - and he was quite ready to have them off the ship. He could swear that the smell permeated all the corridors and rooms, even the bulkheads stank of the apes.
“My Lady,” he intoned gently to the woman lounging in her throne at the center of the expansive bridge, “our liquid assets are insufficient to allow us further passage.”
The woman sat there a moment, allowing the soft hum of the ship to be her immediate answer. She looked up at him with a long-suffering smile, “Johann, I know I pay you to handle many things with your customary poise and flowery language, but if we’re broke, just say it straight. What’s the fee, and how much do we have?”
“The fee for our ship and trade licensing comes to just under 4800 Thrones. Our debit account only has 2270 Thrones. And no, before you ask, that does not include the final payment left on this ship. But I absolutely cannot recommend you borrow that money from yourself, even if it would rid us of those... detestable creatures.” Johann’s face scrunched up slightly at the mention of them. He had made it a point not to remember the name of the primates that infested two of the Beacon’s holds. His captain added her own hum to that of the ship for a scant second and nodded.
“We have enough fuel to wait here for how long?”
“If we’re going to head into lower orbit, several weeks. If we make a warp jump, perhaps two days, and our range will be limited to...” he did a few calculations in his head, “the systems Cyclis, Delana, Scerrus, Hunter’s Folly, and Ophelia. You must consider, perhaps just one more time,” he hid a cringe at the response he knew would come, “making a smuggling run. Running some of the smaller predators from Hunter’s Folly to Whitefall or Quelldra is a profitable venture,” he rushed to elaborate before the inevitable condemnation of such a notion exploded from Rhea’s lips.
“Are you mad?” Her features scrunched together in a mask of anger, not disappointing Johann. "Running ferals is something I swore never to do again. I’ll not go back on that just because we’re a few Thrones short of docking. Next you’ll try to convince me to participate in the Cold Trade! That’s a great way to make money quickly. Great way to be executed by the Inquisition, too.” She composed herself and sagged in the throne a bit. “No, I’m done with illegal dealings. Cyclis 5 is an agri-world, they might be able to use the Remuums. Hold fast for a day; I must pray on the matter.” With that, the woman stood, gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and strode from the bridge. Johann looked from the crew pits to the viewport at the distant marble of Loderia and began his own fervent prayers.
Johann O’Keefe, self-described Senechal Supreme, strode with no small amount of trepidation towards the Lady Captain’s throne on the bridge of the modified Saber-class starship, The Beacon. He had ill news to tell his master, and she would only deny that there was a problem. She was a woman of good breeding, Kalliope Rhea, but she was a little too flighty with her plans for his taste. She was certainly competent, and had some undisclosed background with the Imperial Navy, although he wondered if that was more as an enlisted voidsman. She was certainly old enough to have achieved some rank, but she had aged well -- the only signs that she was older than some 40 standard years were the wrinkles around her hazel eyes and her blonde hair starting to go slightly gray. She still cut a trim figure in her uniform, and could best many of the crew at sparring. When she bothered to commit herself, she was also a formidable Regicide opponent. However, she’d only bested Johann once, when she had been particularly angry at a large transaction gone sour. The functioning XO thought about how the frustration and worry that characterized that era in his life were about to color these as well.
They sat, stymied in extreme orbit of Loderia, unable to pay the registration fees for lower orbit and offloading of cargo - a particularly nasty species of primate that was sold to them as beasts of burden and potential food source - and he was quite ready to have them off the ship. He could swear that the smell permeated all the corridors and rooms, even the bulkheads stank of the apes.
“My Lady,” he intoned gently to the woman lounging in her throne at the center of the expansive bridge, “our liquid assets are insufficient to allow us further passage.”
The woman sat there a moment, allowing the soft hum of the ship to be her immediate answer. She looked up at him with a long-suffering smile, “Johann, I know I pay you to handle many things with your customary poise and flowery language, but if we’re broke, just say it straight. What’s the fee, and how much do we have?”
“The fee for our ship and trade licensing comes to just under 4800 Thrones. Our debit account only has 2270 Thrones. And no, before you ask, that does not include the final payment left on this ship. But I absolutely cannot recommend you borrow that money from yourself, even if it would rid us of those... detestable creatures.” Johann’s face scrunched up slightly at the mention of them. He had made it a point not to remember the name of the primates that infested two of the Beacon’s holds. His captain added her own hum to that of the ship for a scant second and nodded.
“We have enough fuel to wait here for how long?”
“If we’re going to head into lower orbit, several weeks. If we make a warp jump, perhaps two days, and our range will be limited to...” he did a few calculations in his head, “the systems Cyclis, Delana, Scerrus, Hunter’s Folly, and Ophelia. You must consider, perhaps just one more time,” he hid a cringe at the response he knew would come, “making a smuggling run. Running some of the smaller predators from Hunter’s Folly to Whitefall or Quelldra is a profitable venture,” he rushed to elaborate before the inevitable condemnation of such a notion exploded from Rhea’s lips.
“Are you mad?” Her features scrunched together in a mask of anger, not disappointing Johann. "Running ferals is something I swore never to do again. I’ll not go back on that just because we’re a few Thrones short of docking. Next you’ll try to convince me to participate in the Cold Trade! That’s a great way to make money quickly. Great way to be executed by the Inquisition, too.” She composed herself and sagged in the throne a bit. “No, I’m done with illegal dealings. Cyclis 5 is an agri-world, they might be able to use the Remuums. Hold fast for a day; I must pray on the matter.” With that, the woman stood, gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and strode from the bridge. Johann looked from the crew pits to the viewport at the distant marble of Loderia and began his own fervent prayers.