Discovery Gaming Community

The music played in the great hall, a bustle with men and women in a wide assortment of regalia. Some in BAF uniforms, some in privateer uniforms. Some in form fitting dresses that were en-vogue that season on New London, fashion capital of Sirius.

Great windows overlooked the capital world below, ornate and golden in art-deco patterns that were typical on New London. And beyond the Royal Liner, a pair of Bretonian Royal Guard Destroyers stood sentinel, ready to protect their Queen from any assault.

The great hall curved up to a dais, where a golden chaise lounge sat, and upon it, reclining in a beautiful white dress, Queen Carina lay, a red flower turning between her fingers, a gift from Gaia. A trio of small Corgis slept at her feet, another gift, this time from Lord Mindhrey upon her birthday the year before.

In front of the dais, a pair of musicians played an ancient melody, as a beautiful woman of Hispanic descent sang, the Cardamine tube attached to her nose, and a pale blue sheen to her skin that looked like a thousand stars reflected.

It was an exotic place, where men and women stood in alcoves talking, and watching. Groups of nobles surrounding their benefactors, each vying for royal favour.

Not far from the Dias, the Ambassador for Liberty stood, regal in his black tuxedo, watching the crowd. As next to him, Prince Edward, Heir apparent, waited patiently, listening to the Ambassador's words. And across the room, the Outcast supplicant stood equally as regal in her stunning gown, a drink in her hand, offered to her by one of her man servants of the lower Maltese classes.

The Duke of Norfolk stood sipping a glass of something green. He knew it probably had a fancy name, and came from somewhere exotic, but given that it had been seized from a trading vessel in Kusari recently, and the label had been in Sanskrit, he had decided he would just refer to it as 'that green drink that made his toes curl.'

He had no idea why he had been requested to be in attendance at court. He preferred to be aboard his Dagobaz out on the frontier, or at Arundel Castle on Leeds with his command staff plotting defensive strategy against the damnable Kusari. Instead he was there, being dragged around by the arm by various noble wives adamant that he should meet their daughter, and eagre to find out if he entertained the prospect of marriage with any of them.

"...Ambassador Holliday's reception..." the Dowager Duchess of Kent was saying.

Norfolk perked up his ears. "Holliday, you say?" he remarked, taking a long sip of the green stuff that made his toes curl.

"Apparently her Majesty has requested him to appear before her..." the Dowager Duchess said. "Have you met my daughter Posie?"

"Yes, yes, delightful..." Norfolk remarked turning away completely ignoring the girl.

He searched the crowd trying to spot Mindrhey or Fortunatus... anyone that might have a gun on them or some other kind of armament that might do the Ambassador harm should he annoy the Queen.

A quick whip-round had old Binkie turf up a batter knife and a punch bowl ladle... it wasn't much, but armed and ready they would be.

Sir Fortunatus Wright slouched in the alcoved window, watching the strutting courtiers as they preened and pecked and attempted to impose themselves upon their subordinates and superiors alike.

He focused his gaze back upon Fraser, and a slight smile creased the corner of his mouth. The Duchess of Kent herself was busy sizing up Sir Jack, her horselike daughter in tow, no doubt busy wetting herself at the thought of capturing a real man.

Sir Jack turned away from the brood mare, and caught Fortunatus' eye. A brief nod passed between them, and Fortunatus rose, skirting the press of noble bodies, heading for the enormous buffet table. They were short of viable weapons in case any trouble kicked off, but a well aimed trifle could certainly cause a distraction if one was required.

"How droll," The words simply slipped from his mouth over the glass of scotch he held. His dress uniform didn't fit like it used to. A year in prison and bad dealings with inmates left him...awkward. His left sleeve was rolled up over itself to stay out of the way. The limb had been lost in an explosion, crippling his performance, but not his spirit.

A woman looked up from her drink, letting her eyes fall on his. "And what is it you speak of?" A duchess, perhaps? Nobility? She had rather large assets, so that's what Marty cared for.

"A party. They never sat right with me."

"Even though you had an invitation by the Queen herself?" Her finger idly pointed to the well-bred dogs at her feet.

A smile crossed his scarred face, "Ah. I thought they died. Fancy that." He chuckled lightly, taking a nip of his scotch before setting it down to extract a cigarette from his frock coat. The effort was rather awkward with only one arm. Each motion had to be done individually.

"For being amongst lords and duchesses, you are quite rude an-" His hand immediately came up to silence her.

"I am a Lord. What did you think me? Some commoner? When you hear the name Milton Keynes, you should think of me." The cigarette cast a reddish glow on his face as he looked away from her in disgust. Pretty or not, this woman was some gold digger with physical endowments and a pretty face. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must leave because you're ignorant and snobby."

He turned on his heel and waded off to the tables piled with food and drink. He didn't even listen to her grumbling which would probably later devolve into some quarrel and a request for a duel. He'd shoot the bugger in the back anyways.

Fraser stood by a rather petite young woman with a blush in her cheeks and a smile on her face. Jack on the other hand looked appalled and bored. Time to save him.

"Jack-o, my boy!" Marty announced rather loudly, arm raised with scotch in hand. "Need me to take this young woman off your hands? She's much too pretty for you anyways. I'll find something more suitable to your, ahem, tastes." He grinned at the Duke, being one of the few who could say such things without being mortally wounded.

Lord Hamilton was sleeping in his cabin aboard the Conqueror.

The doorbell ringed. Once, twice. Lord Hamilton turned around in bed. The doorbell ringed a third time.
"Yes, enter, please"

The door opened, the orderly officer stood in, looking embarassed a little bit. "Lord Hamilton, Commodore, sir... we have received a transmission via private channels for you. It seems, your presence is requested aboard her majesties liner"

"An invitation? By her majesty?" Lord Hamilton mumbled something... "Yes, let me get ready. You are to prepare my shuttle, Commander. When her majesty calls, I will respond immediately."

He wondered, what may be the reason for the invitation... a meeting of the Lords, possibly? Of diplomatic nature? He made himself ready, put on the dress uniform and went to the hangar bay of the Conqueror, where the shuttle was waiting, as it was ordered.

After having left Cambridge system, and heading towards New London, a great view appeared. The orbit of the planet was full of several different ship types, from smallest shuttles up to the powerful destroyers, ordered to protect her majesties liner at all costs. And all those surrounding the planet of New London, which was lighted by the sun, and was glowing in a bright light.

Lord Hamiltons shuttle entered the hangar of the liner, after he left, he went up straightly to direction of the great audience hall, after having cleared some issues he had with the deck officer... By telling him, that an airlock seems to be reserved for him, the deck officer quickly understood, that Lord Hamilton really was invited...

The audience hall showed a great view. Too many people, enormous background noises. Dress uniforms, with sash's in all colors could be seen. Pretty women, and those who thought they were.... Yes, lordship seems to higher many peoples self confidence, even if they have an equine face. He turned around to his orderly officer, whispering "Sometimes, I felt more as a lord, when I wasn't one, actually." A wide smile covered his face. "Commander, do we have my rapier in the shuttle?" he asked.

"All weapons are prohibited, Commodore, sir." the orderly officer responded. A silent curse left Hamilton's lips. I have no idea whats about to happen, he thought... He looked around for known faces, and then took his way to a more quiet corner. When passing a waiter, he took a glass with 3 fingers of scotch from the tablet.

Fine so far, he thought. Let's see, what happens.

"New London control, this is Commander Alicia Cook of [TAZ]Ambassador's.Ark," began the heavily Bretonian accented female voice, "we are requesting clearance to dock as requested for the Royal palace."
"Roger that, Commander, permission granted. Follow these co-ordinates for the Ambassador's greeting party.
With that, the yacht passed through the docking rings and made for the landing point provided.

In his chambers, Ambassador Holliday was having the final touches done as he got into his robes. He stood in view of his mirror as his robes flowed around him. His now shoulder length hair was well groomed by his aid and she helped him get ready.
"Have you ever been before Royalty before?" she asked him.
"This is a first," he answered.
"Ew," she commented, "I heard they can be rather, well, self centered."
"Mm," he groaned, "admittedly, my previous dealings with the Crown haven't been that good but if they're calling on me like this, they must think somewhat well of me."

The final touches were complete to include his glasses. While he considered hiding a side arm, he opted not too. He headed out for the ramp that would take him off the ship. With him were two heavily armed guards not of human genetics. As he got to the ramp, he turned to them.
"Listen, I don't think any of these people have ever seen your people so I will take Commander Cook. She's quite capable," he explained. After a delay, he added, "I mean no offense."
"None taken, Ambassador," one of them spoke and with a nod, they yielded to the very trim blond ship commander where they began the walk down the ramp to meet the greeting party. As they walked she questioned him.

"I'm rather surprised you didn't bring Mrs. Holliday," she inquired in her heavy Bretonian accent.
"Alicia, it was discussed but with the war still going on with Kusari, her and I agreed that bringing my Kusari wife with me would be in poor taste," was his answer.
"She's such a sweet woman too," smiled Alicia.
"She is," Doc answered with a nod, "but too much resentment is in Bretonia."

They got to the bottom of the ramp, awaiting the greeting party.

"Sir Markus Aquinas, your excellency," the Under Secretary for Communications greeted at the bottom of the ramp. "Her Majesty's most gracious gratitude for your prompt arrival. If you would place all weapons on the table..." he motioned to the large table by the doors. "I will escort you to the great hall."

"There are some matters of protocol you need to follow when meeting Her Highness." The Secretary stated as he led the way through the halls of the Royal Liner.

"Initially one should address her as Your Majesty, and thereafter Ma'am. Then it's Your Majesty again as one takes one's leave."

"You are not a Bretonian citizen, and so you are not expected to bow or curtsey... however if you feel so inclined, do so from the shoulders, or bob the head. Waist bows are the pantomime customs of the Emperor of Kusari, and won't be appreciated here."

He turned a corner.

"Protocol also insists that everyone stops eating when the Queen takes her last mouthful. Although she doesn't often eat in public, she has been known to reserve a little morsel on her plate to push around in order to let other diners finish their meals. Though I doubt food will be served tonight."

"When addressing members of the court it is good to remember that you are referred to as your excellency, and afforded all due respect that it affords. Dukes are referred to as "Your Grace" all other ranks can be referred to simply as "Your Lordship or Ladyship"."

"The most important rule is, be yourself. Her Majesty wishes to talk to you, not some wooden caricature. I trust this advice is helpful..."

The great hall doors opened and the Under Secretary moved inside, clearing his throat.

"His Excellency, the honourable Ambassador for Baffin, Doctor Jonathan Holliday, MD."

The Undersecretary moved aside and motioned for Holliday to approach the Queen.

Doc just sort of sighed and raised his eyebrows a bit, "OK. I'll try to keep all that in mind being that this is my first visit with royalty." For Doc, it was a lot to absorb and to put into use in but a minute or two. He did a final check of himself. About his head was a headpiece that met center forehead. He wore it only for official functions, a symbol of who he represented.
"You'll be fine, Boss," chuckled Alicia, "don't forget your gift." She then handed him a box, a gift for the queen, which he put in a deep pocket of his robes.
"I think you better do this yourself," said the smirking Alicia as she left his side. All that stood between him and the palace was a set of doors and Sir Markus.

"His Excellency, the honourable Ambassador for Baffin, Doctor Jonathan Holliday, MD."

"Jonathan?" he thought to himself,, "never have I been called that." He stood as the doors opened and when the great hall came into view, he stood and looked. For the first time in awhile, he was a mix of stunned and nervous.
"All this? For me?" he thought to himself, "I usually see no more than a table at a Freeport Bar. Maybe things are looking up."

Still, it was an awesome sight for him, so much so that he had no words for what he was seeing. Again, his mind was talking to him, ""The most important rule is, be yourself. Her Majesty wishes to talk to you, not some wooden caricature. I trust this advice is helpful..."
He sighed again and thought to himself, "Sure....be yourself."
He stopped a moment, took a big sigh and made a confident walk to the Queen.

For the moment, his distrust and not so great past in his dealings with the Crown were put aside. She was a very elegant woman. Unsure of where he was to stop, he stopped a few steps from where her Corgis lay.
He briefly looked at her, a bit unsure of himself.
"Your majesty," he said with an easy bow from his shoulders. Once back upright, he continued, "Doctor John Henry Holliday at your service."

He stood silently, awaiting her response.

The Queen of Bretonia basked on the chaise, the red lotus flower turning slowly through her fingers as she considered the Zoner Ambassador that had come into her great hall, and into her presence.

She moved with a catlike grace to sit up, an arm upon the back of the chaise, as she lifted the flower to her nose. Behind her long eyelashes flashed sharply intelligent eyes, taking the practiced motion to study him a while, as he stood a little awkwardly before her.

"Your Excellency," she said, her voice rich and poised. "Welcome to my court, and thank you for coming so swiftly after you were summoned. Though I had expected you sooner, I trust that you weren't... delayed by anything troubling?"

She smiled slyly, knowing exactly where he had been and what he had been doing.

"Doctor Holliday," she said, rising from the chaise, the skirts of her ruinously expensive dress falling into place perfectly, she walked down the steps to take his hand. "I can't express how long I have waited to meet you, I am quite a fan. After all, we were all interested in the Silvan affair... you should know that it made the newspapers here, I hope it wasn't too embarrassing for you to know that you set her upon the Zoner throne when you abdicated for... what was it again? A cough?" She looked at him sympathetically. "It is such a shame that some can be so frail they are unable to... perform."

She guided him across to the great windows, still holding his hand. "I could never think of simply handing such a precious jewel as New London over to the unwashed Gallic masses. You must have been so relieved to regain New Sydney... what do you Zoner's call it? Oh yes Gran Carnaria, from their diabolical plotting."

Doc did his best to control his normally short temper as he could sense the sarcasm in her voice. Obviously, for the Queen to ask of his presence she must of thought better of him than that.

"what was it again? A cough?" was what got under his skin like a needle. As they walked, he politely voiced his displeasure on the matter.

"It was quite more than a cough," he said as he had a sharp look in his face, "as it took a double lung transplant to save my life. I have the records and the scar to prove it if the Crown so desires to see them.
I abdocated the chair of the then Council of Zoners to someone who was more able to run it."

He then sighed, attempting to control his anger with the thought of Aurelia DeFrance. While he controlled it, his disgust was plainly evident, "Aurelia Silvan or, as she is now known, Aurelia DeFrance, is my cross to bear. I was betrayed, the Zoners were betrayed and I have no doubt that all of Sirius will be betrayed." He paused a moment, "Not a day goes by that I don't regret what I did."

He then lightened up a bit, "Gran Canaria. I take much pride of my accomplishments. My home, Canaria Medical, my laboratories, Med Force One and as I'm sure you know, Port Jackson, the refugee colony. Visiting the Bretonian children there makes it very rewarding."
He paused a moment as he smiled, "There's no better feeling than watching a young child beam at you with a smile when they receive a simple toy. Both my wife and I find the same reward of making a difference in someone's life."

He then pulled himself together as they were at the great windows, listening to the Queen speak of Gallia. He gently nodded his understanding.
"I understand your sentiment," the Ambassador stated professionally, "one thing that we can agree on is that we have a fair idea of what to expect. I have a reliable source of intelligence on Gallia, one that is well versed in tactics. The question is, can they be stopped?"

He then continued, "I did have an idea but one that was a dream, one in which all warring factions would have to set aside differences to work together, one that would go back to the roots of why the sleeper ships arrived in Sirius in the first place, to find a place of peace after a century of pointless fighting."
He then sighed, "But, as I said, it is but a dream."