Thank you for the typo spot! Though I'll admit that I did briefly toy with the handwavium notion that perhaps a thousand years or so in the future, that masers are what the best tailors use. However, since scissors/shears have been around for at least 3 or 4 thousand years it seems unlikely to me that their use would vanish in the next millennium or so.
As to whether Tineersal will be significant later.. Well, even if I know that, I wouldn't say. But the story and characters have been taking on a bit of a life of their own. I know some of the major and minor events, but much of the story just happens as it's being written or comes from actual gameplay and the attendant "game in the head".
Chapter 5 was significant for me, since the original outline for the story planned to wrap it up in 5 chapters. In fact, the first chapter was originally planned as a one-off in honour of "International Talk Like A Pirate Day." I didn't actually get it finished in time for that, but my non-Oolite proofreader had questions about Carver and the pirates of Lasoce. So I rewrote it very slightly and called it "Carver's Anarchy part 1". Then I sat down and made up the little outline, and also made a separate install of Oolite so I could pick a fresh set of OXPs that I felt might be conducive to pirate style play for "research purposes".
That may have been a rash move on my part, since as soon as I had saved a game as Carver, he took on a bit of a life of his own. The "game in the head" went in unexpected directions, and well.. The original outline still has it's place but Carver also has his own ideas, in a manner of speaking. The people and situations have been just sort of emerging from the blackness of that region of space. Most of the second chapter/part was just what happened in a fight/raid when I was playing the game, and a bit of personal interaction before, during and after from "the game in the head".
Ah well. Enough "writer's ramble".
Glad you're enjoying it. I have enjoyed your submissions to the Rough Guide to the Ooniverse as well.
Hmm. Trust a pirate? Well, that might not be the best judgement call to make on a long haul. LOL
He probably wouldn't cheat in a friendly game of cards. His crew trusts him to pay all promised shares and bonuses and to do his damnedest to get them through their fights alive. He has some reputation for honouring agreements and contracts.
But he does little or nothing that isn't to his own benefit. Consider the gesture of a funeral service for a fallen foe. Looks nice. But it also might throw bounty hunters off the scent. Why in the world would the pirate that shot a ship down do a funeral service or pass the hat for possible widow and children? The people that gave the poor pilot a decent burial in space and sent it home with a donation probably won't be the first suspects on his family's list or the list of any bounty hunters they might hire to avenge him.
It also might have psychological reasons for his own crew. It might help keep them from trivialising and eventually underestimating opponents. Maybe it was a handy reminder of their own mortality, so they don't get sloppy in their duties. It also provided a convenient excuse for a bit of a party as a wake.
Most of Carver's actions have multiple reasons behind them. While he isn't so petty as to resent someone else getting some benefit as well, he's not an altruist. Helping others may be a part of the reasons behind his actions, but it's a safe bet that his own benefit and goals generally come first.
Letting a beaten foe safely eject may seem nice, but their pod delivered safe and sound will get some credits while their dead body will not. And a ship in repairable condition is worth more than some pretty chunks of glowing twisted alloy.
But if you mean trust him to not open fire on you if you ran across him in space and were piloting a ship he might want or that looks like it might have some decent cargo? Especially if there were no witnesses around? That'd be a misplaced trust, most likely. LOL He's a pirate, so far as most people would ever be concerned.
Carver looked with some interest at the tool that Sharp had bought at the bazaar. "So what's this slide rule thing for, mate? It looks to be some sort of measuring device, mayhap?"
Sharp shook his head, adjusting the slides as he gloated over his find. "No, it's more like an early calculating device. Pre-Diaspora. Hell, even for a century before the Diaspora began, they were almost forgotten." He handed the device to the Commodore. "Look at the materials, though. The workmanship."
"Aye, it's a beauty!" Carver nodded. "Looks to be carved from some sort of natural bone or tooth of a large animal. That sliding part there looks like it could be made of real petroleum plastic, and that alone makes it worth a bit on most worlds."
Sharp considered it and shrugged. "Compacted long chain acrylic is more likely. Same look and weight, but more durable and less extravagant a use of resources. Besides, if it was actual plastic, it'd be unlikely to find it outside of a museum or research institute.""
"Well, I wouldn't assume anything before an analysis when we get back to the cove Mr. Sharp." Carver said, handing the tool back. "Lasoce does have some small petroleum pockets, and some of the countries do allow limited use for artistic and research purposes. Ye never know, mate. So where's the readout, and how is it powered?"
Sharp started to show Carver how the slide rule worked, but had only gotten partway through his example before Carver's face lit up in a grin. "Ah! I get it. It's not too unlike my abacus."
Sharp blinked in surprise. "You have an abacus? I've only ever seen those in books."
"Oh, aye." Carver nodded. "I tally all the shares and expenses by abacus. I learned how to use one as a boy, and t' be honest I prefer it over computers for such things. I work things out on it first and then enter the data into the computer and if they don't match, I know something's not right. So can ye do a serious calculation with that slide rule thing?"
"Within it's limits, yes. According to pre-Diaspora legend, one was used for the necessary calculations for mankind's first controlled nuclear reaction, even though more sophisticated calculating devices were already available back then." Sharp continued. "I've heard that in the highest levels of the corporations, all important calculations are checked with an abacus. But that may be just one of those rumours, of course."
Carver poured himself a coffee and lit a cigarette,settling back into a comfortable chair. "No rumour, mate. It's Gile's own truth, it is. That's where I learned to calculate with one."
Caver chuckled at the look of shock on Sharp's face. "What.. You didn't think I was born a pirate or something, now did ye?"
"Well, I always thought that you'd probably been born in an Anarchy or Feudal system. The clothes, the odd manner of speech.."
Carver shook his head as Sharp poured himself a coffee and took a cigar from the humidor. The Commodore took off his three cornered hat and set it aside, his voice suddenly in perfect unaccented Galactic, with no trace of the usual accent or dialect. "The accent and the clothes, my friend, are both from old history records. I was born in an influential family of one of the corporate systems, and raised to be an executive corporate accountant."
Sharp nodded slowly as he puffed his cigar to life. "So what happened to you? How did you end up like this?"
Carver shrugged. "I turned twenty six. One day it dawned on me that I was just a cog in a wheel. No matter what I did, even if I eventually clawed my way up the ladder to be a CEO, that's still all I would ever be."
"But the money must have been good?" Sharp asked, puzzled.
"It certainly was, friend. By the age of twenty six, I had finished my education and made my first several million credits. But my life simply wasn't anything I actually wanted." Carver took a sip of coffee and continued. "One day I caught a hacker in the corporation's computer system. Instead of calling the authorities I talked with him a bit and then we met and came up with a plan. I helped him embezzle my credits from my account. I took a million of it and he was welcome to the rest. He also had to provide me with a solid new identity as a Jameson with only a few kills to my rating. Commander Tal Thasseus Carver."
"But why?" Sharp asked, shocked.
Carver ignored the question as he took a drag off his cigarette and continued. "I went to the nearest Anarchy system with a reasonable tech rating and spent a few weeks frequenting the bar at the main station. I hired myself four hardened commanders at fifty thousand creds a turn each to act as my tutors and escorts. They helped me pick and equip my first ship. She was a Cobra MKIII, used, but in good condition. I had it decked out with what they advised and we set out across the stars." He grinned. "I had always dreamed of piloting my own ship with my own hands like that. It was one of the best days of my life. I'd never been able to do it before, except in simulators as a hobby. Feeling the thrusters kick in the first time I took her out. Ah, now that was somethin', mate."
"But why a pirate?" Sharp insisted.
"Well, as a small boy, I'd played space pirate. It was one of those things that I had to grow out of. But when I was deciding on a new course for my life, I thought it over and it was what I'd always really wished I could be. A real space pirate, like in the histories and the old plays." Carver took a sip of coffee and continued. "It was the life of adventure I'd always dreamed I'd have as a boy, and I decided to settle for no less. That's why the clothes, and the speech. I felt that since I was making a whole new life for myself, I should try to make it exactly what I wanted. No compromises."
"Ok, I can see that." Sharp nodded. "But why such a criminal direction as piracy?"
"Well, you'd have to understand what sort of an accountant I was. I was a raider. I'd made my millions by finding the weak spots in companies, and then exploiting those weaknesses until they were about to go under. Then we'd buy the company for a fraction of it's real value, break it up into pieces and sell them off at a large profit." Carver put out his cigarette and refilled his coffee. "It was almost exactly what I do as a pirate, and only considered legal because Galcop corporations own the people who make the laws. Whatever makes a profit for the corporations ends up being legal somehow."
Sharp nodded, thinking the matter over. At that moment, his pad beeped and he took it out and examined it. "Kitty and Kari are done shopping and on their way back. Their ETA is about an hour. They'll have to hurry a little with getting ready for dinner."
Carver nodded, chuckling. "Women never actually hurry with that, mate. They take however long it takes them and we go when they're good and ready. It's how 'fashionably late' became fashionable, don'tcha know."
"Probably true." Sharp nodded, smiling.
"So anyway, have ye heard enough of my sordid beginnings, Mr. Sharp, or do ye have some questions?" Carver lit another cigarette and sipped his coffee.
"Just keep going, if you would, sir." Sharp said, as he poured himself another coffee.
"Official talk with the Din-soo is all done, so ye can hit the brandy or juice or whatever ye like, mate. This'll be a social dinner."
Sharp nodded, pouring himself a small glass of Amoo juice. "How did the talk go, Commodore?"
"Oh, fine. All is fine and good. The Din-soo just had a bit of information she thought might be of interest and a few requests of us as the Royal Navy, and such." Carver waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing to worry on. So anyway, I and the first crew headed out into the stars and spacelanes. They were all good pilots and fighters and gave me many a pointer between systems. It wasn't long before I had the feel of me ship and we took to occasionally raiding a fat trader who was maybe foolish enough to try and save a few credits by not hiring themselves any escort. I wasn't much good in those raids at first, but I knew how to keep up on the markets and how to make the most of a BlOomberg's report and cargo contracts. The crew was good at raids, but they weren't near as savvy at business, y'see. But we were turning a pretty profit even by the second turn we flew together. A glowy credit, it was."
"How long did you fly with them?" Sharp asked, obviously a bit more alert as the juice started to take effect.
"Well, I still fly with some of them, mate!" Carver laughed, pouring himself a small glass of Lasocian rum. "That was an odd thing, it were. After almost a full set of tenths, I felt that I knew enough to get by, and I brought that matter up with the crew." He chuckled, taking a drag on his cigarette. "But y'see, that was when I had my first mutiny on me hands. We were making good money, and had hired on a few new members, one with a Boa. So the crew explained very politely to me that they wouldn't take kindly to me leaving. Mind you, I'd been hoping they'd say that. It was being a right fine life, it was. So from then on, they called me Captain Carver and we set about being the scourge of the spacelanes, and that we were, matey, that we were."
Sharp nodded, intrigued. "Some of the original four of your first crew are still with us?"
"Aye, ye know most of 'em at least somewhat." Carver nodded. "Jeeb and Grigor have never missed a mission yet. Misses Harkins what runs the tavern now back at the cove used to fly with us, but hasn't flown a mission since we lost Mr. Harkins in a raid years ago. Pity, that. They were a bold team, they were. Both dead-shots with a laser."
Sharp blinked, surprised. "Nice old Mrs. Harkins? She was a fighter pilot?"
Carver nodded. "Bit more than that, mate. Her rating is 'deadly'. Shen and Stephen Harkins were both deadly combateers, veterans of many a fight." He raised his glass in a toast. "Stephen Harkins. He was a good'un, he was. He shot when he should'a jinked, just one too many times. I honour and remember that last lesson to him."
Sharp nodded and raised his glass as well, and they both sipped their drinks as a moment of silence passed.
"Well, that's the basics, mate. I could talk for a full turn and probably not tell everything that happened, but at least now you know a bit of my background." Carver leaned forward for a moment to inspect the slide rule a bit closer. "A mechanism that simple, but it can do calculations that are of use to an engineer?"
"Certainly." Sharp replied, picking up the slide rule. "For example, say I need to calculate the side force that the magnetic compressor of a plasma steering jet on a ship will exert on a particle passing through it, the 'L', so I can tell if the shielding will be adequate at a given particle velocity. Those are small jets, so the magnet is only about nine Teslas at maximum. The charge on the particle packets is about two point seven Couls." He slid the parts. "That's about twenty four point three. So we'll treat that like a constant." He slide the scales again. "And now I can make estimates for any value of velocity of the particle packets and see if a given velocity will start to breaks down the shiel.."
Carver interrupted, holding up a hand. "Easy, mate. Easy. I'm no engine designer, but I catch your drift. Obviously it's useful enough. So why aren't they used anymore?"
Sharp shrugged. "Like your abacus, I think they're just considered too old fashioned."
Carver shook his head ruefully. "Mayhap they're a bit old fashioned, but they'll never be taken out by an EMP strike, they can't be hacked, and in some ways these old tools are the most powerful computing devices ever made."
"Eh? How so?" Sharp looked puzzled.
"Well, computing power is directly proportional to speed as well as some other factors, you'd agree to that?" Carver waited until the older man nodded. "And computing speed can be expressed as how many calculations are performed over whatever time it takes. We'd be bein' in agreement on that as well?"
"Yes..." Sharp agreed cautiously.
"Well there you have it then." Carver grinned, spreading his hands expansively. "Even though a slide rule or abacus can only do one calculation at a time, they take absolutely no processing time to do it. One divided by zero is infinity, so they are infinitely fast. Simultaneous input and output. So they're faster than even the best quantum computer. And no matter what other factors you may consider in computing power, so long as speed is one of them and is in direct proportion to power, since any number or expression times infinity is equal to infinity they are infinitely powerful when compared to other computers."
Sharp suddenly burst out laughing, delighted. "Genius! I never thought of it like that!" He downed the last of his Amoo juice and reached for the bottle to pour another, then thought better of it and refilled his coffee instead.
Carver looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do they have more of these slide rules wherever you bought this one? We maybe should pick up a few, and perhaps an abacus or two as well for the engineering section. Never know, mate. Being able to calculate when ship's systems are down from an EMP strike could make that critical little bit of difference in a fight. Get us back up and running a second faster or at least ready to manoeuvre or aim the second power comes back online."
Sharp nodded. "I see what you're saying. And yes, they had several, as well as some other nice instruments."
Carver nodded, taking out his pad and thumbing it for a moment. Sharp's pad beeped in his pocket. "There ya go, mate. I've credited yer account with the smaller of the two numbers we were discussing earlier." He raised a hand to ward off the impending objection. "I know I'll be paying you at least that much. I'd rather you have plenty o' polly in yer pocket to be able to get anything that might be useful while we're here on dirtside. Only thing I ask is that you share what you know about any of these devices when you pick one up for yerself so I can consider if we might need some for our general operations."
At that moment, the door burst open and Kitty and Kari came in. Kari's arms were full of packages and Kitty was pulling a small grav cart piled high with what were obviously her own purchases.
Both girls waved greeting as they hurried off to their own rooms with their 'bazaar booty', as Kitty referred to it.
Sharp leaned close to Carver and whispered. "What in the world would Kari buy at the bazaar? She doesn't wear hardly any clothes as it is."
Carver chuckled and replied in a low voice. "I'm not sure as we'd understand even if she told us, mate. But we'd better not ask either of them what they bought if we don't want to be more than just 'fashionably late', eh?"
Sharp nodded as Kari Sabot came back into the room. She settled into a chair near the refreshment table and cracked open a vial of some exotic water, draining it at a single draught with the tiny crystal straw. Then she loaded two measures of some purple herb into an automatic extractor and thumbed the activator. After a second, she picked up the hose and pressed the release as she held it under her nose, inhaling deeply of the invisible vapour. She closed her eyes and took two more long hits before setting down the hose and lying back in her chair. When she opened her eyes, they were already visibly dilated. "Damn, now that's some serious nip." She giggled.
Sharp had no idea precisely what sort of herb it had been, but didn't recall ever hearing of any sort of purple catnip. He just nodded pleasantly.
Kari held up a hand and flexed it, her sharp claws coming out. Both men could see the tips were a bright ruby red. "Had my claws dyed for dinner tonight. You like?"
Both men nodded, making general signs of approval. Miss Sabot leaned back in her chair again, eyes closed as she smiled contentedly, and making a low steady rumbling noise in her chest. Sharp had always wondered if feline races purred.
"So as I was saying, Mr. Sharp..." Carver continued, "We'll pick up a few more of these slide rules if you'll be so kind as to teach the younger engineers how they can be of use."
Kari suddenly opened her eyes, sitting back up straight. She saw the slide rule. "By the hells! An honest to Giles slipstick?"
Sharp nodded. "You know of them?"
Kari nodded. "Well, from museums and a simulation app I used to have on my pad. May I?"
Sharp nodded and handed her the slide rule.
Kari played with it for a moment, doing a few quick calculations. "This one is excellent. Commander, if you're buying some for engineering section, may I have one for navigation, please?"
Kitty bustled through with several packages and headed into the refresher.
Carver nodded. "Absolutely, Miss Sabot. We're having Mr. Sharp look over the local instruments to see what might be of use from the old EMP-proof technology."
Kari opened another vial of exotic water and took another long hit off the extractor. "Sensible, Commander. I'd like to go along on that trip, if I may, Mr. Sharp?"
"Certainly, Miss Sabot." Sharp agreed amiably, pouring himself another small glass of Amoo juice.
"You've never been to a Rahooranian dinner party before, Mr. Sharp. You might want an extra glass of that, you'll have more fun that way." Kari giggled as she checked her pad. "Well, I'm ready to go as soon as Kitty is out of the refresher."
"We are as well, I think." Mr Sharp nodded.
Carver's pad beeped and he frowned as he looked at it. "I'll be back in two shakes." He muttered as he left the room.
"So what should I expect from dinner, Miss Sabot?" Sharp asked, sipping his juice.
Kari shook her head. "Oh, that'd spoil the fun, Mr. Sharp." She giggled.
The door to the refresher opened and Kitty stepped out. She was wearing far less of the designs on her skin that functioned as temporary cyber enhancements and was wearing sandals and dark red shiny fabric instead of her usual black leather. "And no crap from ye tonight, Daddy." She warned, grinning. "The only enhancement I'm wearin' is the emergency ship comms link." She touched a small intricate triangle shaped design under her left ear. She looked around for Carver. "And where did he get off to?"
The Commodore returned almost as she asked the question, tucking his pad into it's usual pocket. "Right then. Off to dinner, shall we?"
Oh happy day! I've just discovered that I can post on the forum from my phone!
Another wonderful chapter, Ganelon. I'm looking forward to seeing what will happen at the dinner. Hopefully Carver will get another chance to prove his derring-do soon!
As they were ushered through the carved wide double doors of the banquet hall of the palace of the Din-soo of Rahooran, Sharp was surprised at the size of the place. The dimly lit room stretched off into darkness, but each of the ring shaped tables had it's own lighting, making warm pools in the dark. The entire floor was carpeted in some rich woven textile and there was a riot of interesting and delectable scents on the air.
"This way, Mr. Sharp." Kari Sabot said, catching him by the elbow and casually hooking her arm in his to lead him. "We're dining at the Din-Soo's table tonight."
Sharp nodded and let himself be led. He noted that the ring shaped tables all had a gap about a meter wide in the ring, and a large round cushion in the center. He wondered if it might be some sort of a platform for dancers or some sort of entertainment. As Kari led him through the gap of one of the tables and guided him to sit down on the edge of the cushion, he began to understand. "We eat facing out here?"
Kari nodded. "You know how they don't care to stare each other in the face. They don't mind sitting close, though." She settled onto the cushion. "You can either cross your legs or stretch them out under the table, whichever is more comfortable."
Sharp felt someone sit on his other side and was surprised to see it was the Din-soo herself. "Good evening, Lieutenant Sharp. It should be a lovely dinner. Many delicious things are in season this time of year."
Sharp didn't know what to say, and so he nodded as the Din-soo settled herself as close as Kari Sabot had. He felt slightly embarrassed and so he turned his attention to the table. "The workmanship is superb. I've never seen woodworking like this. It looks almost woven." He ran his fingers over the table, noting it had smooth grooved channels radiating out across the ring.
"It is woven, after a fashion." The Din-soo agreed. She spoke in an even softer tone than usual, and Sharp noted that as the room filled and people were seated a soft murmur of hushed conversation filled the air. "I don't know exactly how the craftspeople accomplish it, but pieces are cut and shaped and fit together perfectly to make one solid piece. It is traditional."
Sharp saw carts being glided silently in, and long thin trays being laid in the grooves of the table.
"Lieutenant Sharp, since this is your first time dining properly on our world, I would be pleased to give you some small instruction on how food is served and eaten here." The Din-soo paused. "Would you be so kind as to ask Miss Sabot if she minds if I explain it to you?"
Sharp nodded and leaned a bit to the side to speak very softly to Kari. "The Din-soo asked me to ask you if you'd mind if she instructs me on table manners."
Kari nodded and giggled. "I don't mind at all, it is an honour. She asked you to ask me because here one never raises their voice at the table, and only speaks to the two people you are sitting next to. Any other table talk must be passed through however many people it takes."
Sharp relayed the reply back to the Din-soo, who nodded. "I am honoured as well, to be able to give some information to an honoured guest." She paused as the attendants slid the long thin trays into place, as well as supplying each guest with an oval dish full of water and a square of soft light brown fabric. "Put the cloth in your lap, so you have something to wipe your fingers on after rinsing them in the water."
Sharp did as he was instructed, noting there were at least a dozen of the long thin trays in front of each of them. Each tray contained about twenty square glass containers, perhaps four centimeters square, set in wells on the trays. Each was filled with something different, and the pang in Sharp's stomach as the scents reached his nose informed him that they were food. "Everything smells so delicious. But I'm sure I can never eat all this." He chuckled.
"I doubt many people ever could." The Din-soo replied with a soft little laugh. "But not to worry, Lieutenant. Anything not eaten is composted to fertilize the fields. We avoid wasting anything good on Rahooran." She gestured, indicating the row of compartments on the trays closest to him. "These are the mildest tasting, while you have to reach the furthest for are more intensely flavoured."
Sharp nodded. "That seems simple and sensible."
"Yes." The Din-soo agreed. "Now on your far left are foods that are served in their natural state, like fresh fruit and raw vegetables and nuts. To the right of those are common traditional dishes, simple and hearty. In the center..." She indicated a tray that was slightly different in that it contained many small round glasses. "... are beverages. Again, they are arranged from water closest to you, to the most intense or intoxicating ones out where you need to reach a bit for them. To the right of those are delicacies, made by our chefs. Lastly, to the far right, are imported foods and things considered to be rare or exotic."
"It's like a sort of artist's palette. Very intriguing." Sharp looked over the many dishes, his mouth watering. "So is one supposed to start with the left and work to the right, or from the closest to the furthest?"
"There are people who like to eat that way, but there is no rule about it. You start wherever you wish and eat and drink in any order you find pleasing." The Din-soo continued as she rinsed her fingers and wiped them on her cloth. Sharp followed her example. "Some like to start with things they know or eat only their favourites. Others like to try the things they don't know first in hopes of finding something new and exciting to like. If you find something particularly to your liking and empty that dish or glass, it will be refilled presently."
Sharp looked over the almost overwhelming display of food, trying to decide where to begin.
The Din-soo picked up a small morsel of what appeared to be a spiced cooked fruit dish. "This has always been one of my favourites. It is warming, but not too intense." She rinsed and wiped her fingers after eating it.
Sharp followed her example and found it delicious. A mildly flavoured fruit tasting a bit like pear but spiced with cinnamon and something else he couldn't identify that was pleasantly aromatic. After he had swallowed it, he noted it had an unusual savory aftertaste.
"I hope you don't find it too unsettling to eat with your fingers, Lieutenant Sharp." The Din-soo murmured. "I know most Galactics tend to eat with utensils, but we tend to feelthat were are not dangerous animals that need to be fed their food on sticks." She giggled.
"Oh, no. I quite often don't bother with utensils." Sharp said between bites. "Often I'm too busy to stop and eat a proper meal. Though usually I'm eating spacer chow, which is nowhere near as delightful as this."
At that moment, Kari Sabot tapped him on the forearm and pointed out into the darkness beyond the table. Ribbons of light were moving in slow hypnotic spirals and loops. Sharp had to watch for a moment before deducing that they were ribbons of some amazingly light glowing fabric being moved by dancers clad in black. Then the soft rhythmic music caught his attention and he wondered how long it had been playing before he had noticed it.
"Enjoying your dinner, Mr Sharp?" Kari asked with a soft giggle.
"Definitely." Sharp agreed. "What's not to like? So many nice things to eat, entertainment, and I'm seated between two lovely young ladies." He chuckled.
"I see how it is, Mr. Sharp." Kari chuckled. "Put you into a uniform and you turn into a charmer." She nudged him gently.
Sharp Huffed indignantly and then chuckled. "Sorry if I haven't been much of a conversationalist, Miss Sabot. Just getting my bearings on local customs and manners."
Kari giggled. "Oh, no problem, sir. I've been having a lovely chat with the Captain of the Guard over here. He's a charmer too. I have to keep repeating to myself, 'I am a mated kitty.. I am a mated kitty.' "
Sharp choked slightly on the bit of some sweet baked little cake he'd been eating.
The Din-soo touched his arm, and asked, "Are you well? If it might be an allergic reaction, I can signal a medico and get you a shot. It happens sometimes."
"No, no." He reassured her. "I'm fine, just swallowed a bit too fast." He picked up the glass of Amoo berry juice from the tray and took a sip. Then he noticed it seemed larger than the others. He picked up his water glass and confirmed the impression.
"Ah. I should have noticed that. My apologies on behalf of my people." The Din-soo said. "It is said that you found our Amoo juice to your tastes, and so someone in the kitchen apparently decided to give you a bigger glass of it. I hope you'll forgive their enthusiasm."
"Oh, quite alright. It is very delicious." Sharp replied. "Does everyone on the planet know that I like Amoo juice?" He chuckled.
"Probably almost everyone in Rahooran knows by now." The Din-soo explained. "You are all honoured guests. Everything known about you and your likes and dislikes are newsworthy here, due to the stimulus it provides the economy. My apologies if that seems too intrusive."
"How would it affect the economy?" Sharp asked, puzzled.
"With a famous and honoured person such as yourself, your likes and dislikes influence fashion in things like food and drink." The Din-soo continued. "It may even result in a fad or revival of interest in that local berry, as more people will want it and so the growers will have a better financial year."
Sharp nodded, trying to assimilate the idea of himself as being famous or important. It didn't compute, so he gave up on that. "Well, it is delicious and the effects are delightful, so I certainly wish the growers a good year."
"Oh!" The Din-soo exclaimed. "I forgot to explain the complimentor. See this little edge of a wheel by each compartment? If you find something else that is much to your liking, you turn it until the yellow side is showing. When the trays are collected after everyone is done dining, the results are tabulated and everyone from the cooks to the growers of the ingredients or importers can know how well their items were liked. It helps for deciding what to grow or order and prepare."
"Is there any particular manners or custom regarding how many one should mark?" Sharp asked as he started moving the tiny wheels.
"None at all, Lieutenant Sharp. As many as you felt were particularly enjoyable." The Din-soo replied.
Sharp set about turning the complimentors, having to go back and taste many of the dishes and drinks again. Leisurely eating and drinking mixed with pleasant conversation about a myriad of topics wound on, as the minutes passed into hours.
When Sharp finally got back to their shared meeting room he found Carver pacing.
"Ahoy, mate." Carver said, as he lit a cigarette. From the ashtray, Sharp deduced that it was one of many that evening. "So what do ye think of Rahooran?"
"Well, so far it's been wonderful. Exotic in it's way, surprisingly sensible." Sharp nodded. "I haven't found the people to be as shy as the system is known for, but I can see where their customs could give that impression at first."
Carver nodded. "It's a gem of a world it is. And it has countries that are far less tradition bound and poor than Rahooran. If ye travel it a bit, ye'd likely find some place to yer likin', if Rahooran strikes ye as a bit too backward or primitive."
Sharp nodded, replying cautiously. "I imagine so, though Rahooran is quite a charming place. What's on your mind, Commodore?"
Carver chuckled shaking his head. "Ah, there's no pulling the the textiles over yer eyes, now is there, mate? As smart as paint you are, and that's a fact."
"Cut the crap and get to it, Commodore." Sharp lit a small cigar and poured himself a cup of coffee. I'm guessing you have some unpleasant news for me?"
"No, not at all, sir." Carver refilled his own coffee. "Well, there may be some elements of it that wouldn't be a full share to your liking, I'll admit that. But let me propose a little something... Give you an idea how much it'd be worth to me."
Sharp nodded, listening.
"You like Rahooran, ye say. Well, I can see me way to give ye another two hundred kilo-creds." Carver went on. "You could live out a long life here in the finest style off that. Teach at the colleges, start an engineering firm all yer own.."
Sharp snorted. "Ok, what's the bad news?"
Carver held up a hand. "Hear me out, mate. Just hear me out. If that sounds too dull, hows about a ship of yer own? I could deed you that Anaconda, and enough credits to make a good easy start as a spacer. Deck it out proper, find ye some good crew, and enough credits to go right into cargo contracts that pay good. Wouldn't that be choice? Eh?"
Sharp shook his head. "Actually, I've been giving matters some thought and I'm more interested in that hot-rod shop back at the cove and the position as engineer on the Lady of Fortune. But I think you'd better get to that part I'm not going to like."
Carver shrugged and sat. "Alrighty then. It's Kitty. I want you to either keep her here or get her right out of system. Maybe keep going for a galaxy or few."
Sharp frowned. "Bored with her already? So that's what this is about?"
Carver looked a bit startled. "No mate. Not that in the least." He paused. "So you know that.."
Sharp snorted derisively. "I may be a bit older than you, but I'm not a senile idiot yet. Ok, so why do you want her out of the way?"
Carver nodded. "It might only need to be for a few days. But it might be safer to just leave and keep goin'. I'll level, mate. I have to take care of some dangerous business and I don't want her getting killed due to romantic notions. There be a distinct possibility that I may not make it out of this bit o' business alive, and I don't want her windin' up hurt or dead because she'd insist on going into it with me. I'd give any of the things I've tried to tempt you with to know she was safe when I fly out in a couple days."
Sharp shook his head. "She'd never agree to be 'kept safe' and you know it.
Carver shrugged. "There's ways, mate. I could have her drugged and she wouldn't come out of it until I'm gone."
"And I should kick th' frakkin' ex outta ye fer all o' this magwash, Tal Carver!"
Both men spun to see Kitty standing in the hall that led to Kari Sabot's room, obviously fuming.
"Why, my dear..." Carver said in soothing tones. "And here I though ye were out at one of the plays with Miss Sabot."
"Belay that load of ex! You think ye'r gonna maroon me here and you'll have a mutiny on yer hands, that's what." Kitty scowled and showed a design on her forearm. "Recorder, scrambler and relay t' the nearest space capable transmitter right there. I touch one spot on it and every word ye've said will be out t' every last ship o' our fleet."
Sharp poured himself a small glass of brandy and settled back in his chair, sipping and smoking his cigar as if nothing were happening.
"It's too dangerous, and that's a simple fact, girl, so belay yer attitude." Carver said in carefully neutral tones. "You deserve a good life, and I don't want to see it end up being only a few more days left to it."
Kitty held a finger over a spot on the design on her forearm. "Well, if it's that dangerous now, then I believe that calls fer a crew vote, eh? Somethin' that risky should be crew vote, not 'captain's prerogative'."
Carver shrugged. "Right ye are, girl. And a crew vote it'll be. Tomorrow. I've already sounded out the galleons."
Kitty's jaw dropped. "It's that bad, then?"
"Excuse me?" Sharp spoke up in an amiable tone. "That apparently means something, and I'm not familiar with the expression?"
"It means I've called on some members of the crew that have left on years gone by and also some friends from other places, mate." Carver explained. "Basically an 'all hands on deck' sort of thing."
"Ah. Carry on, then." Sharp nodded, took another sip of his brandy and decided it was time for a new cigar.
"Carver, you've no business tryin' t' leave me out of what should be a full crew decision." Kitty continued. "An' I swear to Giles I'll start mutiny on that alone if you don't step back on th' matter. I know that at least Kari will back me up. Well, at least when I untie her."
"I hope that our Miss Sabot is not too damaged?" Carver asked.
"Frak no." Kitty snorted derisively. "I figured something was up when she said you'd told her about a play we should see. So I waited till she was off-guard like, and took her down an' tied her up and gagged her. So she couldn't warn ye that I'd stayed here to find out what ye were really about. But that's two on mutiny right there."
Sharp set down his drink and held up a finger. "Can we make that three?"
Carver scowled. "Fine time ye pick to decide to sign on, mate." Then the scowl softened and he chuckled. "Alright, if that's how it is, then that's how it is. We'll draw up a contract tomorrow, Mr Sharp. But in the meantime, would ye make yer first official duty as a full member of crew to be goin' and untying our poor Miss Sabot? I'll call for more coffee and we'll make a night of it while I brief the three of ye on what we're lookin' at. Truth be told, it'd be good to get all yer thoughts on the matter."
Sharp set down his drink and stood. "Aye aye, Cap'n."
"Welcome aboard, mate." Carver thought for a moment and then corrected himself. "Welcome aboard... shipmate."
Nice counter play of characters. Keeps the reader guessing as to the capacity of the characters. Your an expert of the slow give away sir, excellent work!
Man, its gettin' good. I just finished the final chapter. Sharp is just as his name implies. Although I don't really follow his motives. I especially like what you did with the culture of the locals! Good stuff.
Profile: Commander Kolt
Ship: Cobra III - Longinus V
Elite Rating:Poor
Location: G1
