Sea of Stars - IC II

[rax]

"Yu'Vath are a possible explanation. And yes, small numbers of Egarian weapons have made their way to the markets before. Sometimes I even had a hand in it."

Sun Lee spoke slowly, and thoughtfully, and looked as though she wasn't quite sure what to make of Hannabel. "The most interesting? It is so difficult to choose. Conflict with xenos is interesting, but sometimes yields little of value. Sometimes great treasures are found with no guards, their defenses long rotted away. A single lost secret, worthless on its own, but of immense value when combined with other knowledge, might cost an ocean of blood and tears to obtain. Even then, it is a subjective question. You ask me to guess what you find interesting, or to tell you what I find interesting."

She smiled cryptically. "Very well. The most interesting treasure I have ever recovered was a plain, unornamented sword, of human manufacture. It was many thousands of years old, forged purely of steel, and still carried flecks of the blood of ancient victims. I found it alone in a cave, sealed in a stasis casket deep within an airless moon in a dead system, the only sign that anyone had ever been there."

"Oh! Yu'Vath! We found some of those, didn't we, yer ladyship? Or maybe they were just war machines? Had to blow 'em up real good with the Sting - those things are scary tough!" Hannabel recalls.

She listens raptly to Sun Lee's story of the sword, nodding along as she speaks. "How wonderful! A genuine mystery!" she exclaims in delight. "Did you ever find out how it got there?"

[Haval]

Sun Lee

'Destroying that thing from orbit was surely the best way to encounter it' Anika replied to Hannabel.

She's largely in agreement with Sun Lee, 'And even the dangerous artifacts are worth studying as long as we're all careful.' On the sword, 'Ancient humanity got around. Some of what they left behind is still out there waiting for us.'

Theophilus

Eventually Anika will lose patience enough to respond to Morwenna in kind. She will remain unfailingly polite on the surface. That she didn't like to behave like that didn't mean she didn't know how.

[Destro_Yersul]

Echo

"I'm sure you'd be able to secure it for that. It's possible it was undervalued a little. Shall we say that I'll pay you back forty percent, and in exchange, you allow me to keep the hard copy? After that, neither of us will owe the other anything."

Sun Lee

Sun Lee shook her head. "Never. I don't know if it's a mystery that will ever be solved, but it makes a good story. One day, perhaps. There is so much we don't understand, out there in the stars. I hope to find much of it, and drag it back into the light."

Theophilus

If anything, Morwenna seemed pleased that Anika had responded in kind, laughing off the barbs and easing up a little. It was entirely possible she enjoyed this.

The Dance

With meetings done, and nothing more scheduled for the rest of the day, the group prepared for the evening. Hannabel's dress was sure to turn heads, and Echo's outfit was certain to do the same, though quite likely in entirely different ways. A great deal of Macharius' money had been spent to ensure that he and his crew would cut a fine figure across the dance floor, and the efforts of an army of stylists, valets, and assorted hangers-on secured in the process.

The music was audible several rooms away, growing in volume as they approached the ballrooms. A full orchestra played in the corner, and all of the other traders and notables present had expended a similar amount of money and effort to Macharius, in some cases possibly more. This sort of affair was all an elaborate social construct, a stage for the people of substance to perform upon. Women flitted about in diaphanous gowns, and men were resplendant in a mountain of ruffles and lace. Hannabel grabbed a few drinks and set off to dance with everyone she could find who was willing, whilst keeping an eye out for a few particular targets. Echo prowled the edges of the dance floor, looking for people trying to stay out of the spotlight that might prove interesting. Anika set out to find the Monk, or some who knew him. Macharius circulated, dancing with his assorted marriage prospects, trading jokes with friends he passed. To any who saw him, the man was clearly in his element, moving amongst high society, where everything was clean and there was nary a speck of dirt or any riff-raff in sight.

Certain company excepted, of course. Quinn was circulating, his hat making him easy to pick out from the crowd. Hadarak Fel was also here, engaged in a dance with one of Trask's cousins. Calligos, it turned out, could dance, albeit not spectacularly well. His huge frame looked slightly out of place in formal wear - which might have been the point - and he was not a man built for the word 'graceful,' but he managed. Hadarak Fel, on the other hand, was quite good, and only too happy to whirl Hannabel around the floor a few times, chatting the whole time. He expanded on the tale of how he captured the Righteous Path, and asked a few idle questions in return, but mostly kept the conversation on relatively safe topics. Quinn refused to dance with Hannabel, growing increasingly surly with each request before eventually managing to contrive to be dancing with someone else whenever he noticed her approaching. Igraine also didn't dance with Hannabel, though that was more propriety than anything else. She did share a drink with her, talking about some of the things she hoped to see in the Expanse, and asking dozens of questions about how they'd captured the Fury, and the encounter with the pirates. Overall she came off just as adventurous as her mother, though perhaps a little naive - she'd not yet had the galaxy knock any cynicism into her. Anika confirmed that the Monk had some cold-trade contacts, and had been known to engage in a little off-the-records trading on the side, and Echo managed to find a few more technically minded types who were glad for an excuse to escape the ballrooms and talk shop for a while.

It was a shiny, glittering whirlwind of a night, and promised more of the same to follow. The next morning, waking in various states of hung over, the amasec a distant memory banging on the doors of consciousness, it felt like an experience too big to have been fully real. But there was more to come yet, and the auction still loomed.

[Blarghy]

That Night

"Agreed agreed agreed!" Echo accepted enthusiastically. He thought he was getting a great deal here; he hadn't expected Lorenzo to reimburse him anything, but he wasn't going to turn down the money. More to spend on that mystery locker, perhaps, or just donate back to the rest of the crew, once he had what he wanted.

"I hope to hope work with you again work you. You're a fine ally fine ally." Almost a friend, even, and Kennoch hadn't met many of those among his own kind.

Spoiler: Years Ago

Show

Not Echo, not a Navigator, although he was at least a killer, which this galaxy prized. By the age of thirteen, at Seg-Mirvest's urging, Kennoch had taken four lives and felt less and less each time. His isolation on this space station, however, grew increasingly difficult. That ended today, not because he finally roared out into the stars, but because the stars came to him. Ships made port at the station with some frequency; that was nothing new. Kennoch tried a few times to invite himself aboard and speak with another Navis, a fellow Castermire, but he was always refused, and none of his kin agreed to leave their spires. Most of his messages were outright ignored. So, when he overheard a pair of Rings say that the Navigator of the Blue Bounty ordered apartments prepared for himself and his entourage, while his quarters underwent cleaning and repairs after some Warp drama, Kennoch took immediate action. They couldn't refuse his questions, and then his demand for a guide, but the Ring who complied looked stricken with concern, and her friend swept off, undoubtedly to tell Master Seg. Kennoch didn't care. He had somewhere to be.

He hustled across the station, scowling at minor delays and waving away anyone who stood in his path, bubbling with all the things he meant to say. Years of pent-up frustration reddened his paper-pale skin. Yet, when he turned a corner and found himself facing a team of six foreign Rings loosely surrounding a robed man, Kennoch's mind went blank.

The Rings felt him standing there and turned reflexively, then bowed with just as much conditioning. The other Navis didn't move. Kennoch tried to speak and managed after several seconds.

"C...cousin." He swallowed and repeated louder, "Cousin!"

He finally turned. Theode Castermire. Kennoch mentally listed what he knew (he'd memorized his family tree back ten generations; they might be far away, and scorned him for some reason he didn't understand, but the House name was all he really had): Theode, thirty-two years old, son of Nataliene Castermire, who was one of Kennoch's many aunts. Served aboard a trading ship like most of their House. Tutors hadn't mentioned Theode's mutation (discussing such things wasn't polite), but now Kennoch saw the excess folds of skin drooping from his head, cheeks hanging down around his small mouth. Presumably the rest of his body was the same. It gave him the appearance of a heavily-wrinkled dog. The folds shook slightly as he frowned.

"Oh. You."

This ignited Kennoch's anger again. "I sent you a letter when you first docked," he said through tight teeth. "But you did not reply. I assume it was lost by one of your staff."

Theode laughed once, a quick bark. "Assume what you wish."

And now around the corner ran Seg-Mirvest. He shifted nimbly into a light step, bowed first to Theode, pivoted on his heel, and did the same to Kennoch. "Lords Castermire," he interrupted. His breathing was just a bit quick, either due to the exercise, stress, or both. "Your rooms are prepared," he told Theode, then to Kennoch, "and it is time for your lesson at the firing range. Today we should work on something new, so I'm sure you will enjoy--"

"Quiet, Seg," Kennoch snapped. "You," he hissed to Theode, "will walk with me, so that we can talk."

Theode didn't bother to refuse. He simply laughed again and waggled the folds around his eyebrows.

"You will!" Kennoch repeated. "I am a Navigator just like you, and--"

"Are you?" Theode asked, soft but sharp. Kennoch lurched back like he'd been slapped.

"This is my station, and we will speak, now!"

Another laugh. "Put the boy to bed, Seg. He is clearly past his nap." All the Rings except for Seg, local and foreign, had drawn against the corridor walls and were staring at their own shoes.

"Why?!" Kennoch exploded. "You--you all treat me like--like--why?! Just tell me why?! What have I done?!" He was crying now, shaking in fury. "I--my whole life--here I've been--I--why?!"

Quiet fell, even on Theode, who watched his younger cousin blandly. When he took a step forward, Seg murmured in a pained whisper, "Lords...please..."

Both Navis ignored him. Kennoch stared up at the other, each footstep echoing through the tense silence, until he stopped inches away, leaned down, and wrapped an arm around him, hand on the back of Kennoch's head. He drew the boy in close. Then, with a cruel smile, he did something unforgivable:

He told the truth.

Next Morning

For his part, Echo wasn't hung over, because the only drug he'd touched the night before was a mild sedative to ensure he got plenty of sleep. The dance was fun, and he might indulge more freely at the next one (the grand banquet was also still ahead), but first, there was work to be done. He sat at the breakfast table with a clear mind and iron focus on his next goal: those memoirs were his. While he ate slowly, he looked now and then at the blurry century-old pict of three figures, sitting by his plate.

Speaking of picts, he also worked with Ravia to send another batch to Remalia from the day before. They were divided between the hunt and the dance in more or less equal measures. Included among the stack was an image of Quinn's deep disappointment following Macharius's success against the Terrorax. More for your Captain than for you, Kennoch explained in his note. I imagine Jonell will be amused.

[Haval]

Night

Anika generally doesn't like to make an effort on these occasions. There had been too many times when she was young that she'd been forced by her parents to attend various aristocratic parties in the hope of eventually finding her a suitable husband. On the other hand, dressing down in a place like this would attract too much attention so she'll do what she regards as the minimum necessary to blend in. She will be suitably impressed by Hannabel's dress though.

When not drinking with the Monk and sharing some of her own experiences with the Calixis Cold Trade she'll circulate among the party to talk to some of the Nobles that she knew from back in Calixis, but will mostly seek other any of the other Seneschals that were attending purely for the sake of establishing contacts that might be useful later.

She'll watch Hannabel's attempts to get Quinn to dance from a discreet distance just in case it actually worked. Or else in case she had to back the other woman up if Quinn really decided to take it badly.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

For the hell of it, going to roll Charm to make a good impression
vs. Fel 47 (+10 Etiquette) (+10 Peer Nobility)
(1d100)[7]

Morning

Over the course of the evening Anika managed to drink more then she did on the first evening, but even so the sofa in her room was somehow more comfortable then her bed on the Sting. She'll eventually join Echo at breakfast after a long bath.

The importance of the Nostromo book to him had probably been mentioned at some point. 'You realise that the Harlock connection to this book of yours actually makes me interested in it.' She had expected the memoir of a Navigator to be something of more niche interest. 'The question would be if anyone else who wants to bid on it might feel the same way.'

[rax]

Hadarak Fel
Hannabel makes the most of having a willing dance partner, happily playing the part of a slightly tipsy and wide-eyed lady of fine breeding. It comes naturally enough, though someone well acquainted with current etiquette in the Calixis Sector might notice that her manners and forms of address are slightly out of date.

She eagerly peppers Fel with questions about the Righteous Path itself, gently pressures him to wow her with tales of his undoubted heroism against the beastly Orks, and throws in a few pointed inquiries about the Egarian observatory and how the Egarians were able to use the frozen planet for power generation.

As their last dance draws to a close, she steps back and curtsies gracefully. "Thank you for this evening, Captain Fel, you've been an absolute gentleman, but I must confess I'm a bit cross with you," she pouts prettily. "I believe you mentioned you had picts of your expedition, but I've yet to see a single one! What must a girl do to catch a glimpse of the wonders you've seen with your own eyes?"

Calligos Winterscale
With Winterscale, Hannabel treads a little more carefully (literally!). She constantly adjusts her step to steer clear of his huge feet and to lend him a little of her own grace on the dance floor. It wouldn't do to embarrass their host in front of all his guests, but all the same she restricts herself to one dance.

"Lord Calligos, thank you for gracing me with your time. Wagging tongues had it that I'd best be counting my toes afterwards if I stepped onto the dance floor with you, yet here I am with nary a scratch on me," she laughs warmly. "Could it be that you are in fact not a man to put a foot wrong, at least not accidentally?"

Igraine Armengarde
Hannabel happily indulges all of Igraine's questions, particularly about the capture of the Fury. She acknowledges that it was a boarding action that carried the day, but can't resist pointing out that the Manticore's Sting and the Navy frigates had already badly mauled the bigger ship at range before that. She makes it clear that with a little more patience, the Fury would very likely have been taken without the added losses among the Sting's crew caused by boarding.

She also gently tries to steer the conversation over to the matter of marriage and how Igraine would feel if her mother were to actually go forward with an arranged marriage for her.

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius enjoys the dance tremendously. He's always been an excellent dancer, the same skills that he's developed as a duelist serving him well, and the opportunity to mingle and gossip is delightful. As well as the opportunity to needle Quinn. As the rascal dodges Hannabel again, Macharius "whispers" to Morwenna. Funny, that's the second dance partner I've seen him avoid today. And Mistress Shanx is much less frightening than the Terrorax. Though of a similar mood in the early mornings, hoho! It was clearly a private joke between two friends. The fact that it was loud enough for Quinn to hear was, of course, purely accidental.

--------------------------------------------

Macharius is once more up early and full of vim. By the time the others awaken, he's already taken in a pre-dawn sermon and gone for a run and swim around one of the artificial lakes (followed by the Praetorians, of course, in case Quinn didn't like his sense of humor). He drops into breakfast cheerily and loudly. Morning, all! Splendid evening, what? Old Winterscale certainly knows how to throw a party. He loads up a scone with several rashers of bacon and tucks in happily.

[Destro_Yersul]

Hannabel

Hadarak Fel explained what he could, though it was clear he wasn't exactly an expert on the functioning of Xenos technology. What he was an expert at was being a foppish show-off, and he gladly brought out some of the picts when they had a moment away from the dance floor, letting Hannabel flip through a few of them while he talked. Hannabel's tactic of allowing him to talk up his own heroism was clearly a good one, and by the time another prospective dance partner had shown up to request his attention, he was promising to share more stories later and to have copies of some of the picts made for her.

With Calligos, on the other hand, her joke fell a little flat. Winterscale smiled only thinly, and made some dismissive remark about how other people ought to be more careful with their words, as wagging tongues were liable to be cut off. It was but a glimpse at the famous Winterscale temper, but it rather chilled the rest of the dance. It didn't seem like she'd left a lasting negative impression, but it was, perhaps, a little less than she might have hoped for.

With Igraine, she got on like a hab block on fire. Igraine told the story of how her mother had escaped her own arranged marriage, and any such event she was involved in was more likely to be agreed upon than not. It was unconvential, but Aoife was a free spirit in a matrilineal house, and she'd passed along much of her independant streak. Igraine confided in Hannabel that she thought Macharius was likeable, and had managed to shift her mother's opinion with his first impression, which was somewhat difficult to do.

Auction Day

Heading over to the auction hall, they found that things had been moved around in preparation, and several rooms given over to the auction. There was a reception area with tables, and waiters circulating with drinks, and copies of the list of auction lots. Several parties were already present, including Jonquin Saul - Macharius was not the only early riser amongst the gathered Traders. The Trade-Admiral smiled and nodded a greeting when he spotted them, before resuming his conversation.

The other two rooms were the auction hall itself, which had been filled with chairs, and a podium placed at the front for the auctioneer. Beside this was a table to display the active lot, which would be carried in from the other room, where each - when viable - was stored until needed. This room was also open to the guests, so they could inspect the items beforehand if desired. The Monk was here, jotting down notes in a little book as he wandered amongst the tables. This was the most heavily guarded of the three rooms, Winterscale's house guards hovering menacingly in alcoves. It was unlikely that anyone might attempt theft, but Felidae noted they were also close enough to respond rapidly to any sort of commotion in the auction hall.

A third, less-welcome presence was announced by the sight of Tristan Quinn's enormous feathered hat shoving its way forwards through a crowd of retainers. Quinn marched up to Macharius and stared him in the eye, both feet planted firmly.

"Absalom. I couldn't help but overhear you at the dance last night. And the hunt. I bet you think you're clever."

[Haval]

Anika will interject. 'I think there's a time and place for this sort of thing, don't you Captain? This is a little public.'

[Blarghy]

Breakfast

"This occurred to me occurred," Echo agreed to Anika. "But I hope hope I have effectively removed I have my main competitor already my main. My new contact my and I I I I have an agreement an agreement."

But it wasn't all good news; Kennoch explained what Lorenzo had told him, that the Castermares had excavated something old and likely horrible, and furthermore, they might still be led by their original Novator, Alessaunder, spared from death by the Chaos Gods for some unknown evil purpose. The only good news was that the memoirs might hold, or at least point toward, more answers.

"So so, I must have them I must," he declared. "I can share share, if you wish you, but I warn you warn, the knowledge knowledge knowledge may be dangerous may be." Not so dangerous as a hungry black star in a graveyard of ships, but still.

Auction

Echo came in quietly with the others, his ceremonial staff resting on his shoulder, end held just off the ground as he walked. He thought about speaking with the Monk, at least to set up time for a longer meeting later in the day, before the dance. But then...Quinn.

Unlike Anika, he wasn't bothered and saw no reason to interfere. The Captain could handle this, and the show was bound to be entertaining. A quick duel before the bidding would remove another of their rivals, too.

[Haval]

Breakfast

"So so, I must have them I must," he declared. "I can share share, if you wish you, but I warn you warn, the knowledge knowledge knowledge may be dangerous may be." Not so dangerous as a hungry black star in a graveyard of ships, but still.

Perhaps the party had left her overly relaxed but Anika felt it was too late to worry about that if they were serious about bidding on the book. 'I believe I may have already seen worse. Besides, if it's important someone ought to check.'

[PotatoGolem]

Ah, Quinn! How lovely to meet you in person! Macharius smiles broadly, the picture of gregarious cheer. I am quite clever, thank you for noticing. It's always nice to be appreciated, what? I must say, I like the hat. Very jaunty.

He smiles over at Anika. Oh, come now, too public for what? Captain Quinn and I are getting to know each other. I'm sure we'll be fast friends in no time. He turns his dazzling white smile to Quinn again. Isn't that right, Captain?

[Haval]

He smiles over at Anika. Oh, come now, too public for what? Captain Quinn and I are getting to know each other. I'm sure we'll be fast friends in no time. He turns his dazzling white smile to Quinn again. Isn't that right, Captain?

Diplomacy clearly wasn't going to work. 'Fist fights, dueling, harsh language. Things of that nature. As long as no one manages to upset our illustrious host.'

[rax]

Auction
Hannabel seems to have been invigorated by the dance and is fairly sprightly despite rising early by her standards. Or perhaps she's still a little tipsy...

Disinterested in hobnobbing, she moves directly to inspect the auction lots, in particular the T'au carbine and the mixed lot of firearms. She carefully inspects the guns to see if she can find any particularly interesting rarities hidden amongst the more common dross. She also scrutinizes the carbine in an attempt to determine whether it's an authentic T'au weapon or a counterfeit of some sort.

OOC: Would Forbidden Lore (Xenos) enable Hannabel to determine whether the carbine seems to be the genuine article?

[Leon]

Ravia will see if she can at least have a look at the cats before the auction and take some notes and consider other affairs of interest and how to go about them.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Oh yes, very public. Quite the appropriate forum for casting aspersions on your fellows, wouldn't you agree?"

While Macharius' axpression was all smiles and cheer, Quinn's was like ice. A touch short of aggressive, but still solid and unforgiving. The tension in the air had already started to draw a crowd.

"You've made an impression on the others. And on Winterscale. Have to say, it's pretty good for an upstart. You've got an old warrant, sure enough, and a respected family name, but it's one that's almost gone. How many of you are left, after that mess a few years back?"

---

The carbine looked genuine to Hannabel. You could often spot fakes by the little touches they missed. Tau only had three fingers on each hand, instead of four, and their grips were always a little off for humans as a result. A lot of forgeries missed that detail. There were others, as well, plus the origin - it was hard to imagine Winterscale would try to pass a forgery at an auction like this. If it was ever detected, it would reflect badly on him.

The laser panthers were much easier to verify. They were being held in a reinforced armourglas cage, the interior marred in several place by burn marks where they had tried to blast their way out. One lounged in the corner, eyeing Ravia hungrily, while the other paced back and forth, yowling every few turns. Both were sleek, covered in short black fur with deep red eyes. The pacing one was the larger of the two, and Ravia supposed that made it the male.

[rax]

"Ah, such a pretty piece," Hannabel sighs wistfully as her fingers trace the alien design of the carbine.

"Hey, you!" she calls out to the closest guard. "What does a girl have to do to test fire this heater before the auction?"

[Haval]

"Oh yes, very public. Quite the appropriate forum for casting aspersions on your fellows, wouldn't you agree?"

While Macharius' axpression was all smiles and cheer, Quinn's was like ice. A touch short of aggressive, but still solid and unforgiving. The tension in the air had already started to draw a crowd.

"You've made an impression on the others. And on Winterscale. Have to say, it's pretty good for an upstart. You've got an old warrant, sure enough, and a respected family name, but it's one that's almost gone. How many of you are left, after that mess a few years back?"

Anika is nothing but polite, 'Come now, I think I heard worse than that in school. You simply have to develop a thicker skin.'

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius' expression hardens, before returning to a studied blankness. Yes, that was unfortunate. My father, along with much of the dynasty. Still, at least I knew for a fact who my father was. He smiles sweetly at Quinn, eyes hard as ice. I am ever so glad you've realized we're your fellows, though. I take it that means you're going to start developing your own trade routes and claims now? I can give you some pointers if you like, they're a bit tricky to set up, especially if you're used to others doing the legwork. Macharius smiles warmly at a few of the Traders nearby who've had issues with Quinn.

Or Captain Jonell can. He's been doing marvelously well at it recently, if you don't know. The occasional trouble with brigands and other layabouts, but nothing to threaten a real Rogue Trader. Just chipping away ineffectually at the armor, almost like a dilettante on a beast-hunt, hoho! He pauses, savoring each insult, before delivering a final retort through a grin. Still, you might want to look into a proper ship before that. Something really befitting a Trader. Or at least one with a less-silly name. Edginess has a place, for sure, but it's not the be-all and end-all. Not all of our foes are rebelling against their parents' expectations, after all. Chuckling to himself, Macharius goes to turn away.

[Destro_Yersul]

"Oh, yes, everyone look at Captain Absalom, who thinks he's so clever!" Quinn's voice rose, and he jabbed a finger at Macharius. "You stole my ship, but I'm the brigand? I'm not the one with a riever for a flagship, sneaking about pretending to be something bigger and scarier because you can't win a dust-up. What's the heaviest you've got? Is it your half-frigate, or did you find someone more successful to steal something bigger from?"

Laughter rippled through the small crowd that had gathered for the argument. This whole thing must have looked quite amusing to the others, though Macharius noted that more people seemed to be laughing with him than at him. Jonquin Saul in particular flashed him an approving smile - the trade admiral had to know Quinn's reputation, and while it was unlikely Quinn had crossed Saul in particular, the man was not one to suffer any sort of piracy.

"I should make some allowances, though, shouldn't I? We can't all know what our parents' expectations are, or when they might suffer an untimely death, passing the warrant to younger, less capable hands before they were ready." Quinn tapped his chin, as though a thought had just occured to him. "How is it, anyways, that you came to be the only survivor? Somewhere else at the time, was it? How... convenient for you."

---

Meanwhile, in the other room, Hannabel was approached by the guard she'd called to. He shook his head at her question.

"Sorry, miss. Nobody's supposed to be taking things out of this room until they're paid for. It'll be demonstrated during the auction, so everyone can see it works, but it's got to stay here for now."

[Kaptin Keen]

Felidae - who isn't about to get involved in a teenage shouting match - leans in close to someone beside her, and whispers:

Truth is, Quinn attacked us, lost, ran with his tail between his legs - one ship was disabled, and is now ours. Crew and all, and they took to a new employer like thirsting man to water. But ... don't tell! I think neither Quinn nor Macharius want's that to be generally known.

Whether this is true or not is frankly irrelevant - and Felidae is hazy on the actual details on how the ship exchanged owners - but urging to keep it secret has a decent chance to make it ubiquitous.

[rax]

"Really? Oh well, that's a shame," Hannabel replies with an extravagantly crestfallen look. "I don't suppose there's anyone I could talk to about a private demonstration?"

[Haval]

After that last point they might as well have a duel now and save us all some time. Anika would like to be above all the posturing but can't quite that go. 'I understand that the Sting is ours because Macharius took it off someone less deserving. I'd call that a net win for everyone. As for the Talon, given what you were doing with it at the time I'd say you've lost the right to claim any sort of moral high ground.' The hypocrisy of it irritated her. 'Oh, and I wouldn't recommend describing our ship like that in earshot of our pilot. She's likely to be most upset with you.'

[PotatoGolem]

Macharius whirls around, but by the time he speaks, his tone is amused and mocking, talking in a sing-song like Quinn is a small, not-very-bright child. Quinn, I'm a pirate hunter Pirate hunters, as the name implies, hunt pirates. Which means that part of the job is capturing pirate ships. So yes, as you have so perceptively noticed, my fleet includes some former pirate ships. The Talon, when I encountered it, was blockading a human colony to try to steal from them. Attacking human colonies and your fellow Traders to steal their riches is piracy, Captain Quinn. Maybe if you don't like losing your ships to me or the Navy you should consider not being a pirate. Look around the room. No one else has lost any ships to me, or any other holdings. The same certainly isn't true of you, now is it? Maybe we do both fly pirate ships, but at least mine is a former pirate ship.

He stands over Quinn, looking down at him disdainfully.

Yes, I don't suppose you do know what your father's expectations were. I suppose you could poll the candidates? Might take a while to count them all, but who can put a price on family reconciliation? Start with the guards and servants who most look like you, then work your way through the bathhouse attendants and... "gentlemen in waiting?" As to my survival, the Emperor protects his own, and would not let a loyal dynasty be extinguished. As Saint Alselia said, "though the losses in His service be great, the Emperor always preserves a remnant of His people." My loyalty, like my parentage, is well known. He smiles at Quinn coldly, the unspoken implication hanging.

Finally, he steps away. Now, if you're quite done with your little outburst?

[Destro_Yersul]

For a moment, Quinn looked actually surprised, the emotion flickering across his face before once again vanishing under a mask of anger. He flexed his hands, as though he would like nothing more than to draw his sword. This response was, clearly, not what he had expected. Then he laughed, taking a step back and looking around at those assembled.

"Alright, you want to think you've taken the moral high ground, go ahead. Appeals to the Emperor are fair play. But I think you might find that the Expanse is a wild and dangerous place, and even the faithful can lose their way. How many Imperial ships did you find in the Processional? How many faithful who prayed for deliverance that never arrived?"

Straightening, Quinn adjusted his hat. "I'll have my ship back, one way or another. Watch your shoulder. But for now, I think the auction is about to start. Let's see you put your money where your mouth is. Provided you brought enough of it to match your mouth's prodigous size."

He turned and stalked away, casting a last glance over his shoulder and leaving the crowd to disperse. They began to file into the auction hall, murmuring amongst themselves. Aoife Armengarde paused as she passed Macharius.

"You should have challenged him. That one's a snake, he'll pick a battleground that's to his advantage, given the chance. Here at least you had the benefit of witnesses."

---

"Try the armoury, a little later," the guard suggested. "This one's not the only fun toy the boss man keeps kicking around. Or just buy it. There's a shooting range as well, you could bring it by for a few test firings of your own."

[rax]

"Ah, a shame, but I suppose there's nothing to be done. Thank you for your time, my good man," she replies with friendly wave, then heads over to the other room to find the rest of the crew.

Noticing the dispersing crowd and the tension in the air, she asks Annika: "Did I miss something?"

[Haval]

Noticing the dispersing crowd and the tension in the air, she asks Annika: "Did I miss something?"

'Captain Quinn is an idiot. He was very rude to Macharius although I think he rather lost the argument on points.' Sarcastically, 'Oh we're apparently pirates for taking Quinn's ship off him and he more or less vowed that he'll try to take it back at some point. I suppose it's polite of him to let us know.'

[Leon]

++I wonder if he likes coral++

[Kaptin Keen]

'Captain Quinn is an idiot. He was very rude to Macharius although I think he rather lost the argument on points.' Sarcastically, 'Oh we're apparently pirates for taking Quinn's ship off him and he more or less vowed that he'll try to take it back at some point. I suppose it's polite of him to let us know.'

Well - Captain Quinn is like, our main supplier of new ships, right? I think we should send him an invitation. For the fun of it, at least.

[rax]

'Oh we're apparently pirates for taking Quinn's ship off him and he more or less vowed that he'll try to take it back at some point. I suppose it's polite of him to let us know.'

"Really? Taking a prize in combat is piracy? The Navy will be shocked to hear it," Hannabel laughs. "We should probably take him seriously when it comes to the threats, though. He's got more ships left than we have in total and his flagship is bigger than ours. We don't want to hand him the initiative."