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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.
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Post by StillANoob on Feb 10, 2013 5:57:58 GMT -5
Reads well. It sounds interesting and had me. I was disappointed to get to the end SaN PS. Where was the sexy part?
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Post by Paradill on Feb 10, 2013 6:04:39 GMT -5
Req was the sexy part
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Post by Adam Selene on Feb 10, 2013 7:05:16 GMT -5
My thoughts exactly, perhaps their will be a part 2, till than we shall have to make do with our imagination and Makarova's fluff. And that one about DE, come to think of it I could have sworn that DE kinky fluff was ElegaicRequiem's doing. Imagination, imagination, liquid assets, great way to make money quickly, imagination.
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Post by KRIEGEIRK on Feb 10, 2013 8:14:45 GMT -5
I look forward to the next installment Req!
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Post by StillANoob on Feb 11, 2013 7:01:57 GMT -5
Not sexy enough for me I'm picky. SaN
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 11, 2013 18:19:10 GMT -5
Good heavens, no! Have you seen me? Not sexy.
Wandering her ship while lost in thought was something that Kalliope Rhea did often. Too often, of late; her financial woes never seemed to end, not when she was a child born of poor pilgrims on the shrine world of Karth, not when she had... participated with the Navy, not when she had found an opportunity to purchase her own ship and apply for a free captain’s writ, and not now that she was finally ready to start making a profit on the venture after 12 years. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Where was she now? Not too far from the observation dome on the spine of her ship, just forward and above the massive warp antenna that pierced the vessel like an insect in a collection. She decided now was as good a time as any to take a moment to forget her worries and just appreciate that she had, in fact, been rather more blessed than most to be where she was. The view afforded by the hemi-sphere truly was astonishing, the sort of vista that most humans would never see from within an atmosphere. She could make out the misty aether that made the disk of the galaxy, and she tried to orient herself in order to pick out the brightest stars from within Morobae, her sector. Finding the bright blob of the Puryes Cluster, a rich stellar nursery, she was able to locate several other stars she knew. Maybe the next chance she got, after money was no longer a pressing concern, she should visit the Puryes to appreciate the universe that rightfully was hers, and all of humanity’s. Nothing instilled greater faith in her than marveling at such sights. She began to pray to the Emperor under that glittering canopy. Good cargo, favorable deals, strong and true warp currents, and the means to continue faithful service in exchange for a comfortable life. She prayed for hours until she fell asleep, kneeling in the near darkness. Kalliope awoke to a faint beep from her waist - her commbead signalled her that someone wanted her attention. She sleepily put the piece in her ear and tapped the answer rune. “Yes?” “Ah, My Lady, I wished to let you know that I’ve been able to negotiate terms for the Loderians, a most venerable people-” “The point, Johann.” “Of course. We will be allowed to sell our noisome cargo to our clients if we pay Loderian customs two percent of our sales in addition to 2000 Thrones now.” Kalliope took a moment to try to figure that, but was interrupted. “That would be around 3300 Thrones.” She sighed. Paying an extra 500 wasn’t really so bad. “A hundred and sixty-one thousand should be enough to cover the expense of the trip and pay the crew. Barely. What do we have lined up for the next job?” The awkward silence that answered her didn’t make her feel very confident that she would like it when her senechal spoke. “An Inquisitor has requested the use of our humble ship for transport.” Her expression, had anyone been in the observation dome to see it, might have inspired involuntary flinching. “Where to?” “She was very... secretive. She also notified me that she would have measures put in place to ensure the continued secrecy of what she called System 42.” “My heart beats with anticipation. What’s our port of call after that, or is she going to turn us all into servitors afterwards?” “She didn’t say.” The Beacon’s captain had nothing to add to the conversation that would have been particularly helpful, so she closed the channel and went to her quarters for a proper night’s sleep.
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Post by Paradill on Feb 11, 2013 18:25:55 GMT -5
Good heavens, no! Have you seen me? Not sexy. Seen you? Hell, I strip down to my socks and bow-tie just to watch you sleep.
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 11, 2013 19:01:52 GMT -5
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Post by Kaikelx on Feb 11, 2013 23:43:34 GMT -5
And now you have me hooked. I like it. (The story, not the bow-ties. Although I like bow-ties too)
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Post by RedsandRoyals on Feb 12, 2013 1:25:24 GMT -5
I suspect I know what the title is a reference to.
Reds
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Post by StillANoob on Feb 12, 2013 2:30:00 GMT -5
Good stuff Req. I'm not sure what to say about the whole naked bowtie situation though...
SaN
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Post by Paradill on Feb 12, 2013 2:41:23 GMT -5
I do love the story, and I look forward to the next instalment.
SaN - don't say anything. Just enjoy it..
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Post by StillANoob on Feb 12, 2013 5:46:33 GMT -5
Oh I never said I didn't enjoy it. I'm more of a naked hat man is all SaN
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Post by KRIEGEIRK on Feb 12, 2013 9:27:50 GMT -5
More please! Story, bow-tie, and hats!
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 13, 2013 18:38:52 GMT -5
It was infuriating to be held hostage in her own ship, but that was a fair trade for not having to permanently give up her ship and/or her life as payment for seeing the confidential items and information in use by Inquisitor Scarlet. Rhea still fumed about it, however. She’d caught a glimpse of the woman clad in burnished gold and red power armor as she’d commandeered the Beacon, bringing her own bridge crew aboard to operate the Saber-class ship and erase her cogitators and logs of this leg of her journey. She’d been informed that the ship would automatically plot a course for the shipyards at Ophelia where the Beacon would be refueled and given a few upgrades to her systems as payment. Kalliope didn’t hold much hope that any part of that was true, but if it were, she’d accept it gladly. Not that she’d willingly ever carry a member of the Inquisition again - even the viewports in her quarters had been blocked so that she couldn’t see the stars. That was for security's sake, but it also meant that she had nothing to look at, no wonders to see outside the skin of her ship.
She once again left her suite to visit the gymnasium, the wine-colored, carapace-clad goons of Scarlet’s in tow. Maybe she’d get one of them to try their hands at besting her in a bout of fencing. Probably not; they were the least interesting people with whom she’d ever had business, and she’d carried food sweeteners for planetary nobles: people who were so boring that they needed new and stronger sugars for their deadened palates. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of hedonistic lifestyle that they claimed to enjoy. The only interesting thing about these shock troops was their smell: faint hints of industrial cleansers masked a gentle berry odor. Rhea didn’t want to know.
She grabbed a practice sword and began punishing a servitor for all this. She’d have her revenge one day, petty as it made her feel, she made that silent vow and signed it with a brutal thrust that arced around and over the servitor’s blade and impaled it at the neck. When she realized that she’d be unable to wrest the sword from its new burial place, she gave the lobotomized former-man a good kick, knocking it over to tumble along the floor for a meter where it lay still, bleeding a mixture of blood and machine unguents. Her guards remained nonplussed.
One of the men ‘escorting’ her placed a hand to his ear, nodded, then sent the other out of the captain’s personal gym. He took a pair of confident strides toward her, “Lady Captain, if you would come with me.” He extended a hand as a polite gesture that she didn’t recognize, meaning his planet of origin was one unknown to her. That little detail only frustrated her more as she led the way out of the room. She took note of a fine layer of dust in the seams of his sealed armor.
“Where are we headed?”
“Back to your quarters, Captain. We’ll soon be disembarking. When we’re done, the ship will make the jump to warp and, two minutes after that, the pressure doors to the bridge will open. You’ll be back in full command of the Beacon then, and should reach Ophelia in five to seven days.”
She offered a look of pure disdain. “I can hardly wait.”
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Post by KRIEGEIRK on Feb 14, 2013 20:06:12 GMT -5
I get the feeling there is about to be a major plot twist... Really enjoying this story, Req.
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 15, 2013 20:24:44 GMT -5
The man had neglected to mention the three stops that the Beacon would make along the way, and was also a filthy liar. The total transit time from that nameless system to Ophelia had been nearly three weeks, and having the ship completely automated that entire time had put the crew on the last of their frayed nerves.
Once there, however, everyone had been more or less pleased with the accommodations. Reservations had been made at one of the finer hotels in the capital city of Christianna for the crew to use while the ship was refitted with new life support systems and given a thorough maintenance check. It had been several years since either Kalliope or Johann had set foot on a planet’s surface, and they both found it somehow unsettling for the first day. For Johann, it was the even gravity that bothered him; no adjustments to make to his posture at every section of corridor, no avoiding a slight shift in the direction of the pull toward the deck. For the captain, it was the noise. The sounds of people bustling about in their business, shouting and driving vehicles, all without the accompaniment of a ship’s gentle hum and vibration. She found that, and the lack of complete control of her surroundings, did not make for a good night’s sleep while planetside, and she couldn’t wait to get back to her beloved Beacon.
As they walked together on their way to see some opera that Rhea had been invited to attend by some young nobleman with more money than sense; Johann noted with mixed feelings that his captain was actually quite a lovely sight when she wore a fine dress and not her archaic and ornamental plate armor. He did not know where or how, but she had found someone to style her hair and wondered if he shouldn’t mention that the straightened locks suited her much better than the childish braids she’d been wearing since he met her. Maybe later.
Their host, seeming the sort that could be plastered on Imperial Guard recruitment posters, strode up to them after exiting his unnecessarily ornate vehicle. He spoke an order to the driver, who left on whatever mission he’d been given. Aden Connolly, heir to the ownership of one of the shipyard orbital structures, bowed deeply before Captain Rhea. “It is my consummate pleasure to partake in your company for this fine evening, my Lady.” Experience had given Johann the clue that she was rolling her eyes on the inside, and he grinned to himself that she’d have to put up with more culture than she liked for the duration.
He did question to himself why she had asked him to come along - it only seemed to him that he’d be the crowd, what with Connolly being a chiseled masterpiece of masculinity. He seemed pleasant and worthy of a brief fling with the captain, and the opera was a fine place for getting to know one’s company. After thinking on this while they were escorted into the Connolly estate’s private theater house, he came to the realization that Kalliope was either scared of, or annoyed by, the advances made to seduce her. This only added to the layer of mystery surrounding his strange captain. Rather than think too much on it, he obtained a glass of the local firewater and settled in to watch both the tragedy on stage and the comedy in the private booth. Regardless of what sort of mystery his captain was, he did enjoy watching her antics as she avoided the noble’s attentions.
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Post by Paradill on Feb 16, 2013 1:12:27 GMT -5
MORE!! I command it!
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 17, 2013 19:43:38 GMT -5
“I don’t see why you’re so insistent about this.” Kalliope Rhea slouched in her command throne while reviewing the list of upgrades and repairs made to her ship while it had been docked at the Ophelia shipyards. She had even gotten a little extra as a parting gift from that ninny, Connolly. While she wasn’t about to give him what he wanted in return, he did have her gratitude, and she’d remember the favor if she ever had a chance to pay it off. She smirked to herself, remembering how like a boy he was around her. Maybe Aden would make a fine man in another ten years or so.
“Because, good captain, beneficent captain, you gave indications that you wished greatly to remain above-board, and this circuit gets us the greatest returns while simultaneously returning us to civilization, the Cyclis subsector, and out of this mudhole, Thoch’s Reach. A quick trip spinward to pick up saleable items on the way, then coreward into Londus Mandate, where we can buy and sell all sorts of things -- not to mention deliver supplies to Gealic and get a tithe write off -- and then back down into the thick of sector commerce.” Johann O’Keefe beamed at his captain, sure in the knowledge that she could not argue against his logic. He also had the ledgers handy in case she insisted on refusing to use logic at all. To say that money was tight would be an understatement. “A year, perhaps 15 months, and we’ll be set to do some of the... less profitable ventures you’re so fond of.”
She completely ignored the minor slight aimed in her direction. She frowned mostly at what she was reading, but also at Johann’s insistence at using more and larger words than necessary. “Look here, did you know that our list of improvements includes point defense turrets? When are we going to use that? Unless you keep us on these wild trips off the main trade lanes where piracy is rampant. Flak batteries and a laser defense grid. You’d expect her to come find us again just so she could order us against a swarm of fightercraft. I don’t trust her at all.”
“Lady Captain Rhea, if you’ll just take a look at our current budget,” Johann intoned with smooth servility, but she glared at him and swatted the slate from his hands. It clattered to the floor, and the bridge crew pretended not to notice anything.
“Oh, fine. But I’m not comfortable with some of these stops. And yes, don’t say anything, I know they’re the ones with the best chance at keeping us in the black.” She sulked a moment. “Make the arrangements to have us underway within the day. And see to it that gunnery crews are trained in the use of those flak batteries. You know I hate surprises. Wait, aren't you from this subsector?”
"That's how I know it's a mudhole," he grinned and left the bridge.
Kalliope frowned, still sulking in her throne. She stared at the forlorn slate for a moment before deciding to leave it for Johann to pick up later. Instead, she began to silently pray for success on this ridiculous trade route and for guidance in making deals with her contacts.
End of Act 1
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Post by Adam Selene on Feb 18, 2013 23:03:55 GMT -5
A quick trip spinward to pick up saleable items on the way, then coreward into Londus Mandate, where we can buy and sell all sorts of things -- not to mention deliver supplies to Gealic and get a tithe write off -- and then back down into the thick of sector commerce.” Johann O’Keefe beamed at his captain, sure in the knowledge that she could not argue against his logic. He also had the ledgers handy in case she insisted on refusing to use logic at all. A bádáss bureaucrat to be shore. I hope act 2 will bring shooty shooty.
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Post by Jackal-0311 on Feb 19, 2013 3:32:38 GMT -5
Really nice!
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 19, 2013 19:17:33 GMT -5
Act 2
Captain Rhea's mind reeled from the whirlwind tour that Johann had scheduled through "sector commerce." First, a collection of ancient muskets from some noble with no sense were taken from Caex to Ithaca to be rebuilt and sanctified, then returned to the owner. Back at Caex, all sorts of parts and equipment for the shipyards were taken to Ophelia, were they were exchanged for slag and expired workers, which was all taken to Delana to be turned into heavy labor servitors which were sold on Nymea to their solid projectile manufacturing industry. Mysterious mining devices called ‘thumpers’ were taken from there to Berryl 1 in exchange for assortments of rare gems. They found a market all the way back on Ithaca as set stones on some truly beautiful holy artwork. Kalliope had actually purchased one of the gilt and bejeweled aquilas for herself, and she had lovingly placed it on the bridge above the viewport so that the crew could all look up and make devotions during shifts. Between that, the new life support, and new voidsuits that were now stashed in every other bulkhead, morale was definitely higher than when money had been a very pressing concern. But what had raised her morale the most was making the final payment to the arrears on the Beacon -- she now fully owned the vessel. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her chest she hadn’t noticed until it was gone.
She did have to begrudgingly admit that while it had been a quite unorthodox trade route, it had been a good means of making some money and, after the year’s journey, she had enough in the account to take the chance to offer the Beacon as a pilgrim ship for Ithacans wishing transit to the shrine world of Karth. She had always wanted to make that trip at least once, believing it only proper since she was the daughter of an Ithacan pilgrim who had met her mother on a pilgrimage to Karth. There was something a little odd about the Ithacan view of how things worked off their world, which was understandable, she supposed. It’s not as if many people got to leave their homeworlds, and most of those who did were the sort to already have some cultural sensitivity.
Or so she would expect, but one Priest Sylvanus had been particularly annoying this past week. Typical for Ithacan stock, Sylvanus was fair skinned and handsome, sporting wild, light red hair with a streak of white through it where a scar lay hidden beneath. Rhea guessed his age as late 30’s, barring any juveant treatments, which was the source of her frustration. She refused to allow herself any romantic involvement with a man young enough to be her son. Also typical, he had all the enthusiasm of youth with none of the restraint that experience would have granted him; he made no effort to hide his attempts to woo his hostess. He had explained that he was of the Balbinian sect of the Morobae Ecclesiarchy, and that meant he was required to have a wife before he could be elevated to the rank of bishop. Kalliope didn’t buy that story for an instant.
She did, however, spend more time hiding in the observation dome to pray alone -- the chapel was no longer safe.
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 21, 2013 20:05:45 GMT -5
Sporting a dozen cuts on his arms and face and pressing his hand against a puncture wound in his side, Johann O’Keefe entered the medical ward of the Beacon. Swaggered may have been a better word for it, and, incongruously, he wore a rakehell smirk on his face that overpowered the grimace of pain he’d worn until he’d found his destination. He tried and failed to keep from bleeding on the floor as he entered the ward, and he lowered his voice to a rich basso.
“My love, I have returned!” He looked around a moment and grew concerned at the lack of response. “Aoibhe? Dearest?”
A lazy woman slid from an adjacent room on a wheeled chair with an expression of complete disinterest. “God-Emperor, you’re here.” The sight of that wavy, hypnotic red hair threatened to make Johann swoon, but he remained resolute. “And you look like hell. Dammit, couldn’t you come when it wasn’t my shift? I do enjoy not having to do anything, you realize. When I’m bored, it means I’ve done my job exactly right.”
“Ah, sweetest flower, your flirtations do bespell me, but I have need of medical attentions before the romantic ones.” He helped himself to a diagnostic bed as Aoibhe kicked herself in his direction, brown eyes flashing with a combination of amusement and annoyance.
“Did you get in a scuffle with the pilgrims? You should know better than to pick fights you can’t win.”
“No, my everlasting beauty, the captain allowed me to use her fencing servitor. Did you know she keeps the thing set to a skill level appropriate to some crusader? One of the Knights of Sargasso or something. And she keeps up with it. You know I’m no slouch with the blade, nightingale, but Rhea... she must be truly fearsome when she’s in a foul temper.”
The woman applied bandages to the lacerations and braced Johann before firing a protein aerosol into the puncture in his gut, resulting in much less flinching and complaining than if she’d disallowed any preparation for it on his part. “And? What did you expect? You know she was in the Navy at some point, and she has to have gotten training in shipboard combat, a large portion of which is hand-to-hand. Would it make you feel better if I told you that she comes in here on occasion as well, looking like a Pacifican appetizer?”
Thinking suddenly of sliced raw fish, Johann became hungry. “Would you do me the honor of sharing a meal later? Perhaps I can make another attempt to count all your freckles.”
“I despise you.”
“I know. Is that a yes?”
“My shift ends in three hours,” Aoibhe sighed, resigning herself to the ordeal of eating a formal meal instead of just stuffing her face and going to bed in her quarters. Just then, the Beacon shuddered its way into realspace. Johann sent a look Aoibhe’s way, and she gleefully slapped a bandage on his belly over the sealed hole -- he was good to head for the bridge. He doubled over in pain.
He stood, slightly slower than normal, and pressed his commbead as he strode from the medical bay. “Captain, we’ve left warpsapce.”
She answered with what sounded like a voice half-asleep. “I know -- I had a sudden inspiration. Consider it being moved by the Spirit.” Johann rolled his eyes. This was how every thoroughly unprofitable adventure started on this ship.
“You could tell me first. Is there anything I need to do, or can I continue my dinner plans?”
The line clicked as Rhea ended the conversation.
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Post by ElegaicRequiem on Feb 23, 2013 19:50:28 GMT -5
Lady Captain Rhea, now more awake from her half-asleep praying, lowered herself into the command throne of her ship to view the stars off the bow. One of those, her augury officer had told her, was another ship. She knew it! That whispered voice she had more felt than heard during her prayers had told her that she needed to stop. She frowned as she realized that if Johann noticed the reversion, it meant that the pilgrims might also notice. It’d just be a short delay; they probably wouldn’t even miss the extra day, considering the Beacon’s speed through the Warp. They probably would have had to stop anyway, in order to calibrate the Abacus the Beacon used to calculate Warp jumps.
This far from the Astronomicon, the navigators had difficulty pinpointing the holy light that made Warp travel feasible, not to mention the unnatural currents of the sector that taxed the mutant humans to the point of exhaustion and sometimes death. Navigators only operated on Naval flagships and the most wealthy rogue trader vessels in Morobae. Since there needed to be more ship traffic than what they could support, the Great Houses of the Navis Nobilite in the sector were forced to accept the use of warp abaci, though they had made it perfectly clear that the only ones that could be used had to be authorized by them. She knew full well that that meant the abaci with the Nobilite seal had been tampered with in order to lessen their effectiveness.
As she pressed a button on her throne’s arm that signaled her bridge officers to give her updates, Kalliope made a mental note to have the warp engines adjusted so that transitions wouldn’t be noticeable.
“My Lady, the ship looks like a battered Adder sloop. Inert for some time.”
She glanced down at the crew pit. “An Adder? Those aren’t the types to travel alone for long periods.” Adders had traditionally been used as scouting ships ahead of larger fleets when the interior of the sector had been initially mapped around four thousand years ago. Quick but fragile, they had fallen into disuse as the spacelanes had settled into relative stability and safety. “Any serious damage? And can you tell what armament it has?”
“No damage other than debris impacts; judging from the age on some of those, this ship has been here for anywhere from several decades to a couple centuries. Its dorsal turret is a macrocannon of some type. We’d need to get closer to find out what it is. It’s engines are completely unpowered. It’s very unlikely to be a threat.”
Rhea’s eyes flashed with the realization that she had found a marvelous prize. Even if she couldn’t get the ship back in full working order, an intact hull could be recovered and sold for an immense sum of money. She’d never have to scrimp loose change or ration food again! She began fingering the maille under her plate armor in excitement.
“Helm, bring us alongside her. Augury, I want a full read on every system -- we’re going to claim her.”
Enthusiasm rang through the bridge as both officers answered, “Aye, Sir!”
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