Valendir

The two guards escorted Kit to a large, well-lit hall filled mainly by a large table and chairs. It was sumptuously decorated, as was only to be expected, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and rich wood panelling on the lower halves of the walls, separated by a dado rail from dark green wallpaper. There were a few others already assembled; two Trejans, by the look of them, a Reandir and another young Galmoran woman who looked like a fellow mechanic.

Kit had to wonder just what the hell this was all about.

"Well, gentlemen," she turned to the guards with a wide smile, "Thank you for the escort."

"Miss Solange."

They turned to leave, but one hesitated and turned back round. "Miss Solange ... may I recommend not showing any disrespect towards the officers that will come to meet you?"

"You may. And I may listen. Of course, then again I may not."

The guard looked as if he were going to say something else, but clearly thought better of it and left after his companion. Kit then turned back to the hall and took a few steps further in. In her thick-soled boots her footsteps echoed quietly, and she hoped the cleaning staff would be able to get grease stains out of the parquet flooring.

Perhaps she should have changed before leaving the academy.

"Die foul beast!" Alacer yelled as he parried an attack from the monster before him. It was a hideous beast, truly hideous. It had two massive fangs, eight giant eyes, and numerous spindly legs. Whats more, it lived in a wretched mess of eviscerated insects all tangled in a web of death. The scary thing was, many of the corpses around Alacer had wings much like his own. Alacer was hoping to capture this beast and use it was a stead but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. This beast was violent and fast, and Alacer couldn't get to its neck. If he could get to its neck he'd have free access to manipulate all of its motor skills, but that just wasn't happening. Alacer parried another strike from the strange beast, trying to find an opening, its hard to catch a monster off guard when it has eight eyes.

"Just die!" Alacer shouted as he finally managed to stabbed the beast in the face, but it didn't die. It kept fighting. "Cursed beast!" he shouted as he sent a wave of electricity through the beast's body, frying the beast from the inside out. "Finally," Alacer said as he looked around, he had never imagined to find such a gruesome scene when he flew up to the rafters of the Stratagem hall. He had gotten bored waiting there so he went exploring. He looked down and saw that a number of people had started to gather below him.

"Looks like there are some people here now," Alacer said as he pulled his sword from the beast's head, only to find that his sword was stuck. "Even in death you plague me..." Alacer said as he tugged at his sword. Finaly he got it loose, only to fall from the rafters.

"Cursed spider," Alacer complained as he rubbed his head. He looked up and found himself staring into the dark red eyes of a Raendir. "Oh, hello there."

“So, no private audience with the king then? Does he happen to have a daughter then, that I haven’t been introduced to? Perhaps a concubine?” The guards ignored him, still. Edward let out a low whistle. Either these men didn’t truly care for their lord, or they knew how to hide their emotions. It was annoying.

The journey to the Stratagem Hall had been tiresomely silent. The King’s Guard, or whatever their name was, was well trained indeed, not letting him out of their sight, yet ignoring his insults. And no one had cared to tell him where he was going.

But perhaps the most interesting thing was the fact they had allowed him to keep his weapons. Edward had expected a fight, at least, to go down gloriously; even a martial artist like himself stood no chance against four of these man. Well, not unless he would kill them, but that would get messy, and he didn’t need the kingdom chasing him. Better to let the kingdom do the chasing for him.

The Stratagem Hall was filled with several people, and Edward gave the guards a disgusted look as they half escorted, half pushed him in. “You’re shutting me in here with one of those dogs, a toddler and a couple of civilians? Are you kidding me? How about you take me and them,” he pointed at the two women in the room, “to a chamber with a large bed.” The men weren’t laughing. Damn them then.

He barged over to the large map table, a lot larger, yet nowhere as refined as the one he had in the ‘Dawn’s Harmony’, and clambered onto it. With the table as his stage, and the small group gathered there as his audience, he took one of the two flintlocks from his belt and fired a single round at the ceiling.

“Gentlemen, ladies, inhuman things, you have been gathered here on a mission of vital importance. If you would lend me your ears, I will inform you of your tasks so we can all be on our ways swiftly!”

Sen's ears twitched. There was a sound, very quiet yet not silent. He glanced up, trying to pinpoint what it could be. Mice in the rafters? No, it's quieter than that. Large insects? No... I hear... words. Someone or something was speaking. Suddenly a tiny object -- a little man with wings -- fell out of the rafters and came drifting down to him. The tiny man caught hold of the brim of Sen's hat and stared into his eyes.

"Cursed spider," the little man said. "Oh, hello there."

"No spiders. Just us wolves," Sen said cheerily. "And hello to you too, tiny wingman." He carefully grabbed the tiny palenxi man by the collar, lifted him off, and gently placed him on the ground. "You may want to upgrade your size, friend. Might help with your spider problem, you know. Miss Lyla and I were just exchanging formalities," he said with a nod toward the young lady. "I'm Sen. Sen Fenrix. And I'd love to give you a hug too, but you seem to be a little... ummm... little."

He considered going on, but a rather rambunctious young man entered the room and took the... ummm... stage? He was dressed in military suit, so Sen knew he was important in some way or another. But was he imprtant enough to be giving orders? he fired at the ceiling once to make his presence known. Now, that's not nice, Sen thought. A moment sooner and he would've shot my tiny new friend.

“Gentlemen, ladies, inhuman things, you have been gathered here on a mission of vital importance," the new man said. "If you would lend me your ears, I will inform you of your tasks so we can all be on our ways swiftly!”

"Go on," Sen said, rising to his feet. He had been kneeling to speak with the tiny man. He would at least hear what this loud newcomer had to say.

Rather than enter into what would no doubt be ultimately pointless small talk, Kit found a space to lean against one of the walls - against the wood panelling, far easier to clean than the wallpaper - and began mentally running through various upgrades and tweaks she hoped to give her ship in the near future. She wanted to build in another turbine, give the old girl a bit more speed, and maybe fix a couple more guns on outside ... though she'd have to be carefully balancing weight and mass if she wanted the ship to run faster ...

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed she was being pointed at. Turning her head, she saw another had been escorted in by the guards; this appeared to be an ostentatious young man who, though undoubtedly very handsome, was dressed in and overly-flamboyant manner that instinctively made Kit roll her eyes.

Though Captain Argyle had assured her that she wasn't in for any kind of offical reprimand, she was beginning to think there was some underhand punishment afoot. For certain she hadn't been picked out for some honour; she was far too much trouble to her superiors for that.

She was distracted as she noticed the pretty-boy flouncing towards the map table in the centre of the room. Kit watched in bemusement as he clambered onto the table and fired one of his pistols at the ceiling, the shot echoing around the room with a hollow crack.

“Gentlemen, ladies, inhuman things, you have been gathered here on a mission of vital importance. If you would lend me your ears, I will inform you of your tasks so we can all be on our ways swiftly!”

Kit raised one eyebrow.

"No offence," she called out, meaning quite the opposite, "But I didn't sign up for a pantomime. Would you mind taming down the dramatics a bit? Otherwise I'm afraid I'm going to have some trouble taking you seriously."

Instinct told her she was going to have trouble taking him seriously no matter what. But he didn't need to know that.

The Stratagem Hall was about the first thing Shade had seen that was above average. The architecture of the entire castle was grand and splendid. The sheer size of it seemed almost surreal; as if buildings made by mortals couldn't possibly be this massive. But more than size, it was aesthetic in many ways. Shade noticed several mathematical harmonies in the architecture and the way the stone flowed. And in its beauty it was functional and robust.

A voice intruded on his reverie, and it took him several seconds to bring his eyes from the walls of the hall to the speaker. The object of the interrruption was a Reandir, and he was just turning away to aquiesce a greeting given to him. By a human, in fact, a woman with stained clothing, tools dangling from belts, and short, choppy hair. The Reandir must have known her from somewhere, for twice he hugged her tightly.

Shade's eyes were also drawn to a more subtle shape in the shadows, and re recognized one of his own by sense as much as by sight. Briefly, he studied what details of the other Trejan's face he could see; but no recognition graced his memory. Hopefully, he would show himself a worthy ambassador of their race.

Another figure entered; another female, and another rough one by the look of her. An interesting little group they were acquiring here...

The guards escorted another man in; one with every sign of a rogue written on his face. He came to the map table and leaped upon it, firing a shot and announcing his intentions to give the orders. Shade unslung his bow from his shoulder. He knew the beginning of trouble when he saw it. The woman who had entered only moments before made a comment, and Shade let out a chuckle, sliding his bow into his hand in case it would be needed.

Good gods, the dog spoke! Well, of course it did; Edward knew a Reandir when he saw one, as few as he had seen. Briefly he thought about telling him to sit, roll over, and play dead. Then again, the last time he had done that, the dog thing had gone crazy and attempted to chew his leg of.

Freaking inhuman… things.

Just as he was trying to decide whether to badmouth it, kick it, or leave it alone, his chain of thought was interrupted by one of the two ladies. A pretty woman was always welcome to interrupt him, although he would have preferred it if she had simply torn of her cloths and thrown herself into his arms. It saved time. And possibly money.

He gave the woman an elaborate bow, followed by a grin. “If I said you had a great body, would I have to order you to hold it against me?” The line wasn’t great, far from it, but it worked oddly well in the current situation. Still, he wasn’t here to mess around. He smelled an opportunity, and he would take it.

“Whatever you are told in the future, know that this is your true mission; the location and retrieval of a hovercraft called the ‘Dawn’s Harmony’. My name is Edward Teach, nice to meet you all, captain of that vessel. It is of vital and utmost importance that I resume control of that vessel, for reasons of national security.”

“Whatever you are told in the future, know that this is your true mission; the location and retrieval of a hovercraft called the ‘Dawn’s Harmony’," the man said. "My name is Edward Teach, nice to meet you all, captain of that vessel. It is of vital and utmost importance that I resume control of that vessel, for reasons of national security.”

"Hmmm," Sen said, with a hand on his chin, pondering all this. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Teacher, but I feel that the nation would be a safer place without you controlling any ship, yours or otherwise."

He locked eyes with this 'Edward Teach' fellow. Sen had never seen a person, place, or thing that he didn't like, but this man was hovering dangerously close to the 'bad guys' list. Did he have any redeeming qualities at all? At least he's nice to the ladies, Sen thought. But even he was wise enough to know what ulterior motives lay behind that. Absolutely deplorable.

he tipped his hat to Edward and continued. "In the interest of national security, I politely decline your offer -- or your order, if that's what it truly was -- and repsectfully ask that you please descend from your perch atop that table," he said plainly. "Please. Tables are not for standing upon, cap'n, nor are ceilings for firing at."

"In the interest of national security, I politely decline your offer -- or your order, if that's what it truly was -- and repsectfully ask that you please descend from your perch atop that table, please. Tables are not for standing upon, cap'n, nor are ceilings for firing at."

The Reandir had good sense; and Shade wore a smile.

"I'm afraid I, too, must decline." He said. "The mission I was sent here to undertake promised a little more than reuniting a rogue pilot with his airship."

He kept his bow in his hand, still ready to go for an arrow if necessary. An amusing diversion, but a liar with a gun was not to be trusted. From his initial assessment, and his view from the corner of his eye; Shade knew he was one step from the cover of a pillar. He could make it there easily if the pilot decided to start shooting.

A door at the back of the hall opened, Capt. Taldrin, Rishi, and King Galmor walked in, and suddenly stopped. Each exchanged glances and looked at the man who was sitting on the map table. Galmor then inquired in,

"I believe we're here for a meeting, not a party, I suggest you get down good man. Everyone else sit down in a chair."

All three walked towards the table and stood before it,

He glanced up to see a bullet hole in the ceiling, "now, I'm not exactly sure what happened here," he looked towards the man who was still on the map table, "I'm assuming this was your doing, and like I said, mind getting off."

“You thought you had a choice?” He managed to sound amused, even though he was less then pleased with the dog and the Trejan objecting. My my, some crowd they had gathered here. The question was, why? “And perhaps regaining my craft isn’t the only thing you were brought here for. But it’s what I care about.” He balanced his rifle on a single finger, keeping his eye on the weapon as he spoke.

“Let me just point some things out; the ‘Dawn’ is no mere airship. No sensible man would fly an airship. It is a hovercraft, and a fine one, if I may say so. I am perfectly capable of captaining it. It is in your best interest to let me captain it; better it be in my hands, then in the hands of Ragaria.”

He nearly dropped his weapon, forcing him to grab it before placing it on the index finger of his other hand. “Also, Mr. Furball, could you tell me what is so different between floors and tables, that I should not stand on the one, but on the other? And if you want, I could shoot you instead of the ceiling.”

Well, he had done it again; turned an entire room full of people against him in a matter of minutes. Brilliant. Well, they had to live with it; he didn’t need their approval, he needed to get his hands on his ship. And he would. “Also, I got no idea why we are here. But I can guess. And you will keep your eyes open for the ‘Dawn’.” He flicked the pistol up, letting it fall to waist height before snatching it by the grip frame and letting the guard click shut.

“And could the Trejan with the bow stop frowning? Also, I am pretty certain I could put a bullet in you before you draw an arrow. Gun beats arrow. You’re about twenty years behind.” He grinned as he cocked the pistol and pointed it at the man.

Suddenly, two of the large wooden doors opened, and three men stepped in. Edward gave them an arrogant look before realizing who they were. Damned. The king. Damned, a private audience after all.

Damned.

The pistol was already back at his belt as he hopped of the table. Sure, he was thrice the man this king was, but alas, that mattered little; this man commanded armies. Badly, not half as well as Edward could have, but still. If he was to regain his position and make a name for himself as the greatest pirate of his era, this was not a man to cross.

“I apologize, my liege.” Small words. The man was a king, so probably an idiot as well. A pampered idiot, at that.

Sen smiled as the Trejan archer agreed with his assessment of Edward. And he smiled even wider when the arrogant gunman tried to 'explain' himself. The silly man didn't know the difference between floors and tables. I'm sorry to hear that, Sen thought to himself, but I'm not here to explain to him the difference between floors and furniture. His mother should have taught him that, the same as she should have taught him some manners and how to properly address a lady.

As for his ship, Dawn's Harmony, there was a simple way to keep it out of both Edward's and the Regarian's hands: sink it.

But before anyone could speak another word on the matter, three well-armed men entered the room. Leading them was a man in silver armor with gold detailing and he seemed to be a step above everyone else in rank -- many steps, in fact. The king! Sen suddenly realized. He was too shocked to bow his head or kneel. Instead, he remained rooted in place as the man spoke.

"I believe we're here for a meeting, not a party, I suggest you get down good man. Everyone else sit down in a chair." He paused and noticed the hole in the ceiling. "Now, I'm not exactly sure what happened here," he added, looking toward Edward, "I'm assuming this was your doing, and like I said, mind getting off."

The words seemed to drift into one ear and out the other. His eyes darted from the king to the Reandir behind him, but soon settled on the latter. He is of the Falro clan, Sen thought, recognizing the scent and some of the minor embellishments on the man's armor. The Falro clan were very prestigious and renowned for their skills in battle. Sen's lousy clan couldn't come close. His own bloodline was known for their short claws, useless fangs, and bulky frame; wolves who looked large and intimidating, but had no bite.

Sen felt like a mutt by comparision. But he was a mutt who had come a long way to be here and had more than proven himself. Heeding the king's orders, Sen walked over to a chair and sat down with a smile on his face, awaiting further orders.

Shade could not help but notice the way the flamboyant speaker fumbled with his rifle, and then bragged insistently that he could shoot before Shade had an arrow drew. The man, apparently, knew nothing of Trejans or snipers. Shade, by contrast, knew of the new rifles and their capabilities. The man would have one shot if he decided to fire. And his reloading took a great deal longer than Shade's.

Shade simply smiled at him.

"Words are beautiful things, friend. But a braggart's words are worth nothing more than the air it takes to make them."

It was only a moment later that the king entered with a bit of an entourage. Shade shouldered his bow and turned his attention away from the rogue, instead bowing at the waist before the king in respect. He then went to the table and took a seat as instructed.

What a nice Raendir, Alacer thought as the Raendir set him down. But as the pirate came in and started shouting orders another thought came to mind, what a not nice pirate. Although, he thought as he saw a lone spider leg flaw down to the floor, I like his aim.

While the pirate continued to blab on about some fancy boat, which Alacer promptly ignored, the king entered the room. Good, the king's here, Alacer thought as he fluttered over to the table and took a seat on the back of a chair.

Some of them bowed in respect, the man on the table was a good liar, hiding his true intentions. He gave the saying, but there was no respect behind the voice. They all took a seat at the table,

"Now I'm sure that you're wondering why you're all here," he looked about the group, different races, different skills, different personalities, he read all their profiles, but books and papers could only give so much, "we'll get to that later, right now I want to pull up one little rule I have. I'm not a fan of formalities, neither is my captain, just because we don't appreciate being called by titles or ranks that doesn't mean we don't appreciate the respect," he gave a short glare to the rogue man, a pirate captain he was, good with a gun and a suitable leader, but he had the worst possible negotiating skills, he's at least be one of the good longshots, "I don't want to see any bowing, any my liege, any kingship, no I just want you to talk to me like any normal person with a little respect and dignity."

"To conclude that statement, we'll get onto the mission plans," he protruded from his pocket a 8 crystals, he tossed them on the table and all began to hover and go to the pre-designated areas they were assigned to. Each crystal went to the capital cities of each nation, showing their flags and alliance colors. Each of those crystals broke off into smaller crstals signifying the major and smaller cities. Those crystals broke even further into army sizes.

"This is what we know so far, Regara has once again remobilized their army and have gathered their age old allies," those crystals flashed once, "so far Regara and Wyverns haven't done anything, but the Galrin and the Braksha have slowly moved into allied territory and attacked bases, camps, fortresses, and some small cities and villages."

The smallest crystals signifying armies moved forward deleting the blue allied crystals, "for the Kingdom of Galmora we've already lost one of our major cities Tyria, to the Braksha," the armies of Braksha moved forward, melding with the crystal and changing it to red. Taldrin clenched his hands into a fist, his anger slowly rose at the lost of his homeland.

"We believe it is time to retailiate against the armies. We've handpicked you for your unique skills and equipment to go in as a recon force and take out the enemies teleportation portals, ceasing the production of enemy soldiers and stopping the march into allied territory. Now, any questions before I proceed further?"

Syril had listened to the briefing silently, without any sign he had heard, but he was curious about one thing.

"I am wondering, are we all the force that can be spared for this mission? I would think that there could be soldiers who would be better suited for such a task."

The king seemed slightly surprised at Syril's sudden appearance from the shadows. It was to be expected, thought Syril.

* * * *

Lyla was seated in between Sen and the Palenxi who had fallen on Sen's head. She liked the Reandir, although he had called her short. She hadn't been paying very close attention to the briefing, but she had heard enough to understand the situation. When the king asked for questions, she heard a few, and then asked her own.

Raising her hand like a child and waving it around frantically, she tried to get the king's attention. When he finally pointed at her, she lowered her hand and said with a grease-stained grin, "Yeah, and can I use explosives?"

"I am wondering, are we all the force that can be spared for this mission? I would think that there could be soldiers who would be better suited for such a task."

Galmor looked over a bit surprised he hadn't noticed the Trejan earlier, he cleared his throat and spoke again,

"As I have said we need a recon force, my soldiers are currently on the frontlines defending from the invading armies, the only Galmorians qualified are the one present here. You'll also be traveling to your native homelands and guides will be needed."

Then the mechanic child raised her hand trying to get his attention, he smiled and pointed at her, "Yeah, and can I use explosives?"

"As long as you can control the right amount for a situation, I see no problems."

Sen enjoyed the light show. The little crystals seemed to have a mind of their own as they danced across the table, flashing and mingling with one another. He paid little mind to the king's words, too mesmerized by this awe-inspiring display of Galmoran technology. "Amazing," he said under his breath, "simply amazing."

"We believe it is time to retailiate against the armies," the King Galmor said in conclusion. "We've handpicked you for your unique skills and equipment to go in as a recon force and take out the enemies teleportation portals, ceasing the production of enemy soldiers and stopping the march into allied territory. Now, any questions before I proceed further?"

Handpicked, Sen thought, repeating the word over and over in his head. He had been handpicked by the king of Galmora. Oh, how he wished the Reandir Council could see him now. He'd risen from a lowly mutt to a member of an elite squad chosen by a renowned human king. Amazing. And that meant everyone else here was 'elite' as well, from Miss Lyla to the palenxie man and the two Trejans... even that dirty pirate, Edward.

Sen smiled and reclined in his seat, ready to take on the world. He pulled his hat down low and shut his eyes, twiddling his thumbs idly as he daydreamed about all the fun he and his new friends would have. It's not that he thought the mission would be easy. Certainly not. He just knew he was doing it with good people. In his mind, that made everything okay.

Respect and dignity my… Edward managed a smile and a nod, and kept silent trough most of the briefing, and somehow managed not to scowl at the Trejan in the shadows when he asked a question that had already been answered. So they were to close the portal then? A major flaw right there.

“My lord king, you will have to excuse me, but I am only twenty four years old, and I was not around during the thirty year old war. I have heard of these portals, but frankly, I know little to nothing about them; what are they, how do they work, and most importantly, how do we close them?”

He didn’t mind fighting his way though stuff of legend; Edward was, after all, a hero, yet he was somewhat disappointed that they were send to Tyria; still miles away from there the ‘Dawn’ had last been seen. Still, it was as good a place as any to start his search. And if they happened to run into a portal, they would close it. If they knew how.

The sharp tongued Trejan would be first to go, he hoped. Perhaps he could accidently ‘miss’ a bullet, or have one ricochet. He dismissed the thought. Whoever would be in charge wouldn’t appreciate it, whether it was the king’s lapdog, or the king’s human lapdog. Still, it was a dangerous mission, and although a skillful man like himself would be in no immediate danger, the Trejan might get hurt. Especialy if Edward didn’t cover his back.

Kit quickly came to the conclusion that the blonde boy was, if nothing else, unflappable in his arrogance and flamboyance. He didn't seem at all put out by her sarcasm, something that would have irritated her intensely anyway, but also had the gall to make a remark that made her want to take a wrench to his pretty face.

And then his motive suddenly became clear; Kit had heard of the 'Dawn's Harmony', of course. A pirate ship, whose captain had been notorious before he died and passed over command ... apparently to this cretin. So that was it. He was a pirate, and trying to take advantage of the circumstances they all found themselves in. It explained the gaudy dress. And probably the arrogance too. Well, Kit had no sympathy. Anyone who went and lost their ship was a fool not worth her time.

Thankfully, Goldilocks was interrupted by the arrival of a soldier, another Reandir ... and the King himself. This was important then.

Kit slowly took a chair as orders and listened in silence to the orders given to them. When asked if there were any questions, she jumped as a Trejan she hadn't realised was there spoke and then scowled as the other mechanic waved her hand about like a child. That was exactly the kind of behaviour Kit soon squashed out of any assistants that were unfortunate enough to work for her.

Goldilocks also had a question, concerning the mechanics of the portals. Glancing around the table, Kit quickly realised that no one appeared to want to ask the question uppermost in her mind.

Leaning back in her chair, she raised a hand but didn't wait to be called on before speaking.

"Yeah, I have a question. Is this a mandatory thing? Because if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not risk my ship. Or my neck."

There were indeed many questions asked in response to the mission. All of them with varying degrees of relevance. Was this the best they could do? What weapons could they use? What was the nature of the portals? And did they really have to go? Amazingly, only the pirate's question was one Shade might have asked. They had picked them for their skills; and if the woman's skill was for explosives, they probably meant her to use them. On a similar vein they chose this group because they had those skills; and if they thought they could do 'better' with another group, they would have.

As to whether the mission was mandatory; Shade himself could see no reason to refuse. The woman who had asked, though, mentioned her ship before anything else. Understandable, then.

Shade listened, waiting for the responses as he studied the crystal map; memorizing it as best he could between glances at the others. During one such glance, he cought a bit of unusual movement. Seemingly out of nowhere, a figure began to grow and take shape. When finally it finished, forming itself into a small, round creature, it sat down. Shade smiled. A Palenxi. He studied the fey creature for a moment, and then turned his mind back to the business at hand.

He'd let the air clear before he started into more specific questions.

“My lord king, you will have to excuse me, but I am only twenty four years old, and I was not around during the thirty year old war. I have heard of these portals, but frankly, I know little to nothing about them; what are they, how do they work, and most importantly, how do we close them?”

"I'm getting to that part, essentially your skills will be needed for the part where the portals will be closed. Also, I never said I was in the war either, it was my grandfather, Galmor XIV who fought so valiantly in the 30 year war."

Then the pilot perked up,

"Yeah, I have a question. Is this a mandatory thing? Because if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not risk my ship. Or my neck."

"I think you would rather risk your ship and neck while under the radar, than rather do it through the burning Galmorian capital while dozens of enemy fighters home in on your ship and blast it out of the sky. So yes, I'd consider this mission to be mandatory."

He looked her over a minute, "I've heard a lot about you, you seem to give Captain Argyle a lot of trouble."

Taldrin looked up, "Oh please Galmor, Argyle is a good leader, but he's too stiff and follows the codes to the last letter. The sooner he gets that stiff rod out of his arse, the sooner he might start letting up a little."

The two guards stood outside the sizeable doors. Nyx stood beside the one called 'Relick', ranting away about eggs. And injustice.

"...Furthermore, I don't see any need to bring me here. I do apologize if my actions were misinterpreted, but I have never been a fan of eggs and I see no reason behind being here. If you're going to torture me by means of over-feeding, I would much prefer lorkins or catterbans. Ahhh, catterbans. Juicy, green, salty... Of course I've never tried any as they are quite rare, but a grasshopper in his late 60s spoke to me of these, an-- Is the factory behind these doors?"

"Just stay here." said Relick, not daring to move. For the next two hours, standing outside that door was priority one. All other priorities rescinded.

"Well, I suppose I should get familiar with the inner workings of the factory's machines. I dare say technology has gotten rather tubular! Could you imagine one day we'd be MAKING eggs, as opposed to SWEATING EGGS FROM OUR PORES? That's what we used to do, you know, In the late 1800s. Once I met a very short tree stump that spoke to me of eggs. Pity what happened to him. He was evicted. Couldn't pay his taxes."

With those words, Nyx squirmed his way behind Relick.

"Thank you kindly for the pleasant chat."

He snuck through the door, the guards exchanged looks.

"I guess that saves us the trouble of actually punishing him. He's dead."

The king turned to look at her, clearly less-than-pleased with her attitude.

"I think you would rather risk your ship and neck while under the radar, than rather do it through the burning Galmorian capital while dozens of enemy fighters home in on your ship and blast it out of the sky. So yes, I'd consider this mission to be mandatory."

He thought so, did he? Kit raised one eyebrow, but managed to contain an indignant remark. It occured to her that, unlike the rest of her superiors, this was one man she really did not want to get on the wrong side of. Though she was still by no means persuaded into doing anything; her sovereign's confidence in the country's defences was the opposite of reassuring.

And he'd disparaged her ship. As if she would ever let anyone blast the Celerity out of the sky.

She gazed steadily at the king as he gave her an appraising look. "I've heard a lot about you, you seem to give Captain Argyle a lot of trouble."

One corner of her mouth curled up into a smile. Her reputation preceded her then. She wouldn't want to disappoint now, would she?

The soldier with the king then looked up. "Oh please Galmor, Argyle is a good leader, but he's too stiff and follows the codes to the last letter. The sooner he gets that stiff rod out of his arse, the sooner he might start letting up a little."

Kit snorted delicately, pleasantly surprised. Perhaps the authority figures wouldn't be so bad then.

The airship pilot and mechanic matched probably any man here for roughness in attitude. She made no major objection once it was clear she was being officially ordered to go. She had made a grunt at the captain's comment that could have meant anything, and in the moment of silence that followed, Shade spoke,

"I have some questions; most of which pertain to how not to get the lady's airship thrashed and get the rest of us killed." His gaze went to the king.

"I assume because you've brought two mechanics and a former captain into the group, we'll be doing insertion from the air. I'm wondering if we'll have any support from the troops on the ground; if there's anyone we need to meet up with once we're on the ground; and what additional resources we'll have at our disposal. But most importantly," Shade paused s moment.

"Who's leading this group?"