Difference between revisions of "Horseshoes and Handgrenades"

Latest revision as of 00:57, 19 October 2011

It's hard enough to get a table at this place as it is without uppity Outversers renting half of the available space out. Three tables have been shoved together and loaded with trays full of every cake and confection under the sun - rich devil's food, fluffy buttery biscuits, cupcakes and eclaires and pigs-in-blankets as far as the eye can see. The Demarian proprieter is thrilled, or doing a smash-up job of faking it, personally fluttering around filling cups with piping hot red Alhiran tea and and glasses with cold lemon-spritzed water.

Did someone say CAKE?! Here comes the resident fatty. Jasmine enters the pastry shop and moves straight for the food, pushing her glasses up her nose and eyeballing the selection like a fat girl in a pastry sho--Oh right.

Rynn, ever the resident dad, is letting the waitress rest her feet and is laying out plates and silver for the attendees. One dish is the proud recipient of a dime-bag of chocolate crickets, which provokes a long and uncertain stare from the old Demarian.

DS-3633 stands near the tables with the Minerva crew. Sitting can be awkward for the Phyrrian. Easier to just stand. "What exactly is the purpose of this meeting?"

Like a little pale butterfly, Leucohyle meanders around behind Rynn, accompanied by a beach-ball sized spherical robot with multiple jointed legs. Somehow, it manages to avoid getting under anyone's feet. "XO Savoy," she says, her little fluting voice low, perhaps out of respect for the crowd. "Is is there anything I can assist-you-with?"

Silvereye drifts into the cafe soon after Leucohyle. He regards her robot coolly for a moment before taking a position near the back. The former Battleclaw folds his arms, and for, the moment, merely seems to take the measure of the individuals gathered here.

"You may, Miss Leucohyle. You may sample each of the pastries and tell me which is the most delicious," Rynn elects with a wink for the little scientist, before his expression sobers incrementally for the Phyrrian. "Tonight we're meeting with President Tostanavich of the Orion Confederacy and one of his top advisors. They're who we'll be negotiating with the acquire the rift drive technology."

Newt takes his seat at the table, eyeing widely the nice, happy arrangement of tasty things. "Coooool."

The President of the Confederacy is in chipper moods recently. Granted, he's still grumpy as per usual, but at least today it's not as evident, stiding inside. The two guards taht flank are waved off, both going to stand outside the door. No need to come inside if this is just going to be a simple meeting. "I was told by a drook of mine I was here to meet with the crew of the Minerva?" he asks, steeping up to the group that he can only assume to the ones that called him down. "What can I...Silver?" he turns his to acknowlege the Demarian. "Funny seen you here."

Chocolate crickets? Esmer waits outside of the pastry shop for a few minutes until someone - who happens to be Silvereye - opens the door, and then she waddles through as quickly as possible with wings outstretched for balance. She pauses just inside the door, ears swiveling as she locates her group, and the scent of chocolate covered insects sets her mouth to watering. "Food," she chirps to herself before setting out on a slow but steady trek toward the tables. The sound of Rynn's voice serves as her honing beacon, allowing her to adjust her direction while she dodges feet and chair legs.

Leucohyle looks up at the XO with a few reserved 'pip's of laughter, face crinkling in a pleasant grin. "W-well I suppose I shall have to to accept that challen....ge?" The expression, then, changes, from 'giggly' to 'terrified' in the space between seconds, and she disappears behind Rynn. "R-really?"

Jasmine grabs a plate and starts piling on as though she hasn't seen so much as a donut in months. "We're meeting a president? Jeez, thanks for the warning XO. I'd have dressed better if I knew that," the engineer chimes in before digging into a cream-filleg confection with glee.

DS-3633 nods once to Rynn, then turns as the President walks in. By now it caught up on news files and figured out Vadim is the President. "Greetings President Tostavanich," the mechanoid offers.

"Funny being here." Silvereye replies to Vadim, though he doesn't yet draw close to the group. "Left the family on Eiru to attend. Thistledown got a crab on her tail...She's terrified of the ocean now." He chuckles a little at that, and then turns back to regarding the group.

Rynn turns on a broad grin for Jaz, then half-turns with an exaggerated crane of neck to share it with Leu. "From what I hear he's pretty laid-back. I think he'd rather see us for who we are than a bunch of phoney-baloney suits," he assures them, before eyes turn toward the door and features light up with recognition. "There he is now. With the former Battleclaw, no less."

Leucohyle peeps out from behind the XO carefully, her chestnut hair, still in a bit of an awkward 'growing out' phase, frizzing a bit. "W-well that's good. I I haven't got a suit... Oh, a a Demarian. O-one of those was at Father's lab, to to visit Admiral-Trak'Gar. Different-one-though." Carefully, she settles into a chair. The arachnoid robot that was accompanying her scuttles beneath her feet. Both of them hold very, very still.

Vadim isn't smoking, for a change. Far too cramped in here with far too many non-human noses to offend. A light laugh is met for Silver, nodding. "Da, well, I'm sure she'll get over it once you have your first beachside crabboil, da?" The amount of people gathered in one particular location has him moving for Rynn and his cohorts. "Commander Savoy, was it? President Tostanavich of the Confederacy. This is Silvereye Paintedheart a....." he glances back at Silver, grasping for the right words. "...a close drook of mine. You wanted to see us, da? Oh, and please, it's just Vadim. Hate titles."

"You'll do fine. I know you can be sweet and polite, and if you feel nervous, just have a sip of tea," the XO recommends, before stepping around the table to extend a hand for first the president, and next the Battleclaw, each in turn. "Hooo, haven't been a Commander since my Militia days. Good to meet you, Vadim. Hell of a show you gave the Nall. It's a pleasure to shake your hand." Silvereye gets similar treatment. "And Battleclaw. I know you don't remember me but I was one of many engineers on the Comorro refugee team. My family owes you a debt."

Tullius Castus has been doing the walkabout outside since the Minerva crew's arrived at the pastry shop with a couple of other security folks. They're not dressed obviously, wearing instead suit jackets and jeans. He pokes his head in the door and then pops inside, leaning against the wall by the entrance.

"I see my reputation proceeds me." Silvereye rumbles towards Rynn as a slight grin crosses his features. He steps forward at last and approaches the table where the sweets are laid out. "And you are...Commander Savoy?" He takes the hand offered to him, and gives it a firm shake. "That sounds like a story worth telling some time. Always happy to be of service, and it looks like you've found yourself a pleasant berth." He releases the other man's hand and instead snags a cupcake.

With one ear cocked to take in the surrounding conversations, Esmer seems mostly intent on reaching the food. She stops by the buffet table, panting quietly and leaning against its leg. The long haul across the floor, dodging and darting, was definitely a bit harrowing. After a moment's rest, she hops her way up toward the platter, allowing the sweet smell of oblivion draw her forward. Once she locates the crickets, she stabs one with a claw and brings it to her mouth to bite off the head and chew with an audible *crunch-crunch-crunch*.

DS-3633 continues to stand to the side, quietly observing and recording at the moment.

Leucohyle does indeed take the recommended sip of tea, followed by two more before she manages to get a wobbly smile onto her face and offer a small, shy wave to the Ungstiri and his Demarian companion. "...it's it's an honor to meet you both, sirs." Lucius also gets a little wave, and a faint expression of relief.

Newt looks up at Silvereye and Vadim and gives a wave before reaching over for a tasty treat. Nom.

Once Rynn has shaken Silver's hand, it's his turn. "Da, well, it wasn't all me. There's a lot of people that helped drive off the Nall from Materi Syna. I can't take credit for that. The people, they're the ones that need to be told spasiba." Looking at those gathered, Vadim tilts his head. "Your crew, I take it? Well, you didn't drop by for just the cream-filled longjohns, I imagine. So, what brings you to New Resilience?"

A hint of a smile and a nod comes from Lucius following Leu's wave to him. He seems content to cross his arms over his chest and watch the occurences in the shop.

Rynn gestures proudly at his motley little lot. "Representatives from the crew of the VES Minerva. Miss Leucohyle, our science team leader; Mr. Newt Panderyn, our lead pilot; Miss Esmer, our cook; DS-3633 and Miss Jasmine Morrow, our engineers; and out there is Mr. Lucius Castus, our security chief," he rattles off, ending on a thumbs-up for the Martian merc outside. "Colonel David Ransom Porter is our CO and apologizes for his absence. We've come with the hope that Minerva and Confederacy can work together on a matter of great importance to Outversers everywhere: the rift drive."

Jasmine raises her gaze as she's mentioned and waves shyly. The girl blushes and wanders to the other side of the table to distract with more food.

As Rynn introduces the crew, Silvereye's gaze tracks over each one of them. He gives a nod to Leucohyle, in return for her greeting to him. Once all the names have been rattled off the Demarian turns back to face Rynn. "Porter always did seem to attract a following." The former Battleclaw observes. But he lets Vadim take the lead in offering his question, and falls silent.

DS-3633 nods to Vadim when its name is mentioned. It continues to remain silent, not having anything to add at the moment.

Leucohyle takes another sip of tea, and raises a pale hand when her name is called. Her smile is unsteady, but very proud. It is then that she remembers her original assignment from the XO, and busies herself cutting small samples from a few different pastries, adding them carefully to her plate.

Esmer turns to eyeball Vadim silently with half a cricket sticking out of her mouth. She offers him a slight nod before slowly resuming chewing on her insect, tiny teeth rending the exoskeleton into tiny digestible pieces. Her ears resume their twitching, moving independently while she attempts to follow the conversation. With a tilt of her head to the left and then the right, she quietly snitches another bug and crams it completely into her mouth causing her cheeks to bulge while she eats--loudly.

Newt looks up from his half-eaten pastry, takes a drink of tea and pipes up, "Heya." Under the table his legs are a-swinging and he resumes his nomming of things delicious.

"You knew..or know Porter?" Vadim looks over his shoulder at Silvereye. "The name rings a few bells, but I can't say I know him intiminately. Like I read that name somewhere." The moment he thinks on that is fleeting, his focus clearly on Rynn for the time being, though he does give everyone a nod of recognition when their introduced. "Interesting crew you've assembled. Even know a few of them." The matter of rift drive gets an interesing look, and an even curiouser browraise. "The rift drive?" he almost seems to of forgotten about it until the light upstairs flickers on. "Oh, the Alina. Da, back before the Confederacy was as you know it, Razorback Cliffwalker and myself were apart of the team that investigated it. We got ahold of schematics to build a an engine like it but...both of became far too focused on the operation of the country that we just never had a chance to work with it. What would you want with it? Besides the obvious, I mean."

Rynn does not dance around the pertinent facts. "Colonel Porter is a Kamir ascendant," he tells them, point-blank, as he gestures to waiting seats for the pair and then moves to take his own. "So I'm inclined to believe him when he tells me that we can find a way home. I'm aware of two working drives: yours and the Olympus's. Comorro has a prototype that she's allowed us to use if we acquire a Kamir artifact to... complete it. The Colonel is set upon doing this. The crew of the Minerva stands behind him. I would like the Confederacy to stand with us."

Silvereye arches a brow at Rynn, even as he peels the wrapping off the cupcake he's holding. "I knew Porter in a professional capacity, yes. I can't have met him more than once or twice, though." The Demarian replies to Vadim. "That he's a Kamir ascendant surprised me at first, but, it fits with what I know." He chuckles lightly. "Though it does surprise me that there are three rift drives out there...Though we must have one that functions if the Nall do. Their...unwillingness to obliterate us with that display last week is strange, to say the least."

Tullius Castus slips back out as he's replaced by one of the other security guards.

DS-3633 tilts its head to side as it watches. Silently processing the information, its red eyes flash dimly.

"Or they just hate us that much." shrugs Vadim. "And I wouldn't be so stupid to keep the knowlege we have on rift drives in one location." Putting his hands in his pockets, there's another look to who's there. The idea of dealing with another Kamir ascendent is perhaps slightly unsettling, having known two friends that went through that process previously. "So the goal is to find a way back to where we came from, da? Perhaps try and stop the rift crisis from ever happeneing, is that the inetention of this?" he asks, digging out his PDA to look up the information that he and Razor had gotten out of the Alina. "Interesting idea, Commander. And one I wouldn't be adversed to. I founded Materi Syna on the idea that Outversers can have a home for themselves in a universe that isn't there own. The idea of going home again, I mean, -really- going hom again. I can't think of many people who wouldn't."

Leucohyle shifts slightly in her seat, reaching up to fiddle with the glossy black border of her wire-frame half-spectacles. She takes another sip of tea, expression discomfited, but she stays quiet and lets the leaders converse.

Esmer finally swallows her bug and then promptly crams a third into her cheeks. She gathers a few to clutch with a wing and then glances around to find someone to pester, chewing slowly. Her gaze lands on Leucohyle, and the girl's shy tendencies draw the Tupai's curiosity. Without preamble, she darts between the treat trays and comes to a stop beside Leu's plate. Quietly she drops her armload of crickets onto the table while staring up at the humanoid. "Pretty hair," she murrs ever so quietly after thoroughly chewing and swallowing her food.

"Home is a difficult target to hit." Savoy laces his fingers atop the table. "For me, it's Rima Sirsalis. Rima Sirsalis does not exist in Colonel Porter's idea of 'home' - his Earth before the bombs went off. For some Demarians, it's old Alhira. For others, it's the new one. Do the Ungstiri want Youngster? Do they want Boromov? We've got Outversers rifting over from fifteenth-century Earth and from forty-first-century La Terre. 'Home' is a poor promise. We can't give them 'home' any more than Cottington and his Sanctuary could. But I do know one thing," - he sips from his iced tea - "nobody is going anywhere without the Confederacy's blessing, no matter what Porter says. No one has done more for Outverser interests in Hiverspace, and no one is more fit to see us to wherever 'home' we find."

"I think that's a good point." Silvereye replies with a nods towards Rynn. He takes a bit from his cupcake, and quickly swallows the sugary confection down. "There is no real home to go back to, and we can't undo what has been done...Too many lives exist because of the rifts, and too much has gone on. I think we'd risk doing more harm that good if we pursued a past which has already gone by." The former Battleclaw notes soberly. "All I want is a place to live in relative safety, where we can pursue meaningful lives for ourselves and our children. We'll have to contend with whatever we do find."

The Minerva crew is sitting at a big table covered in pastries, talking to Vadim and Silvereye.

Leucohyle blinks at Esmer, over the holographic lenses of her spectacles, and offers up a wobbly smile. "H-hello, Miss-Esmer," she says, very quietly, in her little fluting voice. She touches a short lock of her chestnut hair, self-consciously. "Why, th-thank you very much. That is a a very colorful sweather you have." After checking the plate to ensure that it has not acquired any errant crickets, the little clone nibbles a pastry.

DS-3633 interjects in its mechanical emotionless voice, "While the universe the rift drive allows us to reach may not be the one left behind, it should be a similar alternate version."

The current conversation finally draws Esmer's attention, and she rises up on her hind legs to stretch as tall as she can. "Why can't this be home?" she inquires of no one in particular, glancing around the group while her ears swivel back and forth. "If you are not going 'home', or to anybody's home in particular, why don't you just stay here? You've already built so much..." She allows her words to trail off, for a moment, glancing to DS. "What if it's worse?"

The tupai then hunches down until she looks like a pair of wings with big ears. Her attention turns back to Leucohyle and she replies in her quietest voice: "Thanks, I made it myself."

"I think....that's what we all want." Vadim replies, nodding solemly to Rynn. "Da." Then Silver says his bit and he seems to be more than in agreement about that. "You both make fair points. So what you do you suggest, Commander? You try pick a time that'll hopefully satisfy everyone?"

Rynn sits back, giving into a chuckle at DS's observation and dragging a hand down his lined face. "Horseshoes and handgrenades," he supplies in response to both Phyrrian and Ungstiri, before his shoulders sag and he regards Esmer over another swig of iced tea. "Home is wherever one is happy, comfortable, and safe. I'm sure many people are content staying where they are. Those that aren't, however... if we've got the technology, then we should give them the opportunity to choose. That feels like the right thing to do. As for what time? I think we should put as many scientific minds as we can spare on the problem - find as many rifts as we can, see where they go, and pick the best one. You're fighting a war, so that's where Minerva comes in," he segues, opening his hands reasonably. "I don't have the authority to add our ship to your fleet. I can't arm your men, either. But we have a cargo hold that can deliver all the raw materials you might need from offworld - food, medicine, ore, whatever - and the damnedest thing about humans is that our necks turn and we can look the other way. In return? You share the technology with us, and we work together to find the ticket out."

Leucohyle nods in quiet agreement with Esmer. "I I wouldn't want to go anywhere-else either. I, I don't think they'll -make- anyone go, somewhere-else..." She trails off, in order to listen intently to the rest of the conversation.

"The war is our first concern." Silvereye replies. "The Nall possess rift drive technology, that means that they have a strategic advantage over us. I don't think it matters what rift we find or where it goes, the Nall may pursue us, or sweep in behind us. We must have the rift drive to defeat them as a prerequisite for any peace that we want to enjoy in the future. And we can never defeat them so long as they can move against us with impunity." He nods towards Vadim. "I made a living in New Alhira out sourcing important missions...something like the Minerva might avoid the high profile that would attract unnecessary attention, and, as the Commander says, you can always look the other way."

Vadim glances up at Silver, looking for the former Battleclaw's input on that offer before he answers. But he does look pretty enticed, hearing his friend's somewhat positive reply seems to win a lot of points with him. Though he might've agreed to it anyways, however the military asepct of things and the matter of the Nall looks to tilt things in a good direction. "Considering I came from Boromov-controlled Ungstir, turning your head was a bit commonplace there. Learned how to do it pretty well in my time." Another moment of thought. What he wouldn't give for a smoke right, studying Rynn, then the people assembled. "I think we can come to a arrangement that'll come out kharasho for everyone." he grins finally.

"I'm a Larry. I'm no stranger to Boromov's brand of secrecy," Rynn notes toward the president, neither glad or ashamed of the fact - though he does summon a smile. "As a show of good faith, I'll have a shipment of materials to you within the week."

DS-3633 grows silent again, watching and waiting.

Silvereye nods towards Vadim. "That's my advice. Never leave a potential ally on the table, especially when you have shared goals." He then turns back to Rynn. "Though I'm curious about Porter. As I said, I'm sure I've only ever met him once or twice. You've taken his measure, agreed to serve as his subordinate. I'll consider that a vote of confidence up front, but, I am uncertain about how being an ascended Kamir might affect his judgment, or his goals. I trust he's on our side, but...It's worth keeping in mind."

DS-3633 interjects, "This unit has served under Colonal Porter in the past, prior to his ascension. I believe he fits the generally accepted definition of a good commander. I also believe his personality has not significantly changed excepting normal change that is expected with the passage of time and the interceding events."

As his PDA is out, he starts to tap out a message. "That sounds fine. And since we're both working in good faith here, I'll make sure some of my top scientists cleans up any information we have on the rift drive. And when you return, we should have everything you need to help you in your journey." The mention of Porter gets a slight shrug from him. "Like I said, I never met the man, but I heard enough about him." he notes to Silver before going back to Rynn. "And if you ever have a run-in with the Nall, or Meddies while in Confederate space, consider the Minerva a ally of the Confederacy. If there's a Confederacy pratrol in the area, they will assist in whatever way possible."

Leucohyle looks over towards the Phyrrian, taking its statement in with a tilted head and curious expression. Fiddling her fingers together against the sides of her teacup, she offers it a small gesture of approval. The tiniest bit of text skitters across one of the holographic lenses of her spectacles.

Porter's right hand nods his agreement with the mechanoid. "He dreams big. I'm not sure if that's chicken or the egg, so to speak, but I think he's aware of his shortcomings in the, er, mortal realm," Savoy opines. "He's left everyday operations to me. If trusting the judgement of a Kamir is tough, then I'll give you every reason to trust mine. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Tostanavich, Battleclaw Paintedheart." Rising, he extends a hand across.

Silvereye waits for Vadim to shake first. He is, after all, the President. When the Ungstiri finishes then Silvereye will shake Rynn's hand. "Then we'll simply have to trust him." The Demarian concludes. "The partnership is too important otherwise. As always, if I'm needed in any capacity, let me know. Otherwise, I should get back to Eiru as soon as I can."

DS-3633 returns Leuochyle's gesture with a nod, which is about as much expression as it can give. Hard to express yourself nonverbally as a robot.

Vadim takes Rynn's hand in a firm Ungstiri shake. "Spasiba, Commander. I'm glad we have more allies in this universe. And with any luck, others too." he replies. "I'll make sure you get the right contact information for all of this." An nod in afformation goes to Silver. "Da. Well, I'm used to trusting things on blind faith. Things....more or less have worked out so far. But I will take allies where I can get them. And this is far too important to turn down."

"Understood," Rynn acknowledges with a bob of his dreadlocked head. "Thank you both. I'll let you get back to your lizard problem." He straightens his jacket. "And I should get back to the ship to update the Colonel."