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jeriendhalRolas gets a few answers. PG-13 for mild violence.
In other news, I downloaded Google Chrome last night. It's shiny!
Rolas found Hotclaw up in orbit aboard the Sallivera, supervising the bridge while the engineering crew went through a power check, bringing up her fusion reactor fully online to test her ability to keep the ship’s superluminal drive and dust jacket generator operating at full capacity, should they ever have a need to run from a pirate again. Hotclaw looked up at him in surprise when he entered, but greeted him with a quick salute and a “Good afternoon, milord. I wasn’t notified you’d be coming aboard.”
“Nothing to worry about, Hotclaw, this isn’t a scheduled visit in any way. I just had a whim to head up and see how the old girl was faring,” Rolas said. “I haven’t had a chance to inspect her since we were intercepted by the Scarlet Claw.”
“Oh, the Sallivera is right as rain, milord. We got the drive working again thanks to the Navy. They even let us have the parts gratis, lucky for us.” He looked up at Rolas hopefully. “Have you heard anything from the insurance company, milord?”
“That situation remains unresolved.” He glanced at Hotclaw, then nodded his head at a pair of technicians monitoring a datascreen piping up the power plant’s readings from Engineering. “I’d like to discuss it in more detail with you, privately.”
“Of course, milord.” Hotclaw called over to the techs, “I’m going to go with Lord Rolas to Engineering to take a look at the reactor. Don’t let anything melt down until we get there.” The techs laughed and Rolas led the first officer down the gangway to the mess hall, empty and lit only with safety lighting, leaving much of it in dim shadow. He let the hatch slide shut behind them and leaned against it, while Hotclaw sat on the edge of the table. “What’s the matter, milord?”
“In truth, we’re being stonewalled by the insurance company. It seems fairly certain we’re not going to be getting any money cover the loss of the cargo. We’re going to have to call it all off.”
There was a half-second pause between his announcement and Hotclaw’s quiet, “Oh, that’s a shame, milord.”
“Yes. It seems poor Dewclaw died for nothing.” Rolas drew in a long breath. “I hope the Holy Den Mother is watching over his soul now.”
The first officer stared at his toes for a bit and said, “I’m sure she is, milord.”
“Did you get a chance to go to his memorial service?”
“Well, um, no not actually, milord. I was busy, y’know, making my statements to the insurance auditors and the Navy. Then I had to mind the Sallivera while she was being repaired.” Hotclaw had looked up to answer Rolas’ question, but his gaze darted about, seeming to focus in every direction except his lord’s face, while his tail dipped down between his legs.
“Understandable. I was a bit busy myself at the time, being an involuntary guest of the Red Vixen. She was a charming hostess actually, I’m almost sorry she died.”
“I’m not,” Hotclaw said quickly. “I mean, she’s the one that killed the poor cub.”
“Is she?” Rolas asked, his voice gone terribly soft. “I think that blame would have to go to the one who handed her our cargo manifest and navigation data.” He tossed over the Red Vixen’s note to Hotclaw, who caught it automatically. The first officer opened it, reading through it quickly, his ears flipping back and his tail curling up completely underneath him.
“This… this is a base lie, milord. I mean, it’s obvious isn’t it?”
“What purpose would it serve her to lie? She already had our cargo. Indeed, when I first surmised that we had been betrayed, she refused to tell me who it was, in case she wanted to use their services again.” He took the note back from Hotclaw’s nerveless paws and tucked it back into his coat pocket. “What did she pay you?”
“Enough,” Hotclaw answered, after a moment’s hesitation, standing up straight, his tail curling back up in defiance.
“Enough to ease your soul over Dewclaw’s death?”
“That wasn’t my fault. You’re the one that ordered us to fight instead of standing down like they told us to.”
“We couldn’t just let them take it. Not with what was at stake. The profit from that cargo was going to help us get away!”
“Maybe some of us didn’t want to get away, milord. Maybe some of us liked it just fine here on Vulpine Prime and weren’t interested in moving our families to some half-terraformed colony world. Ever consider that one?”
“You know what the Countess is doing to us!”
“I know what the Countess is doing to you, milord. That’s got nothing to do with me and mine! What do I care what happens to a traitor lordling and his family?”
“Traitor? You dare call me this? After what Lord Kev did to my sister you dare call me this?
“I’ll call you that and worse, traitor. Oathbreaker. You think I sold you out to the Red Vixen for money? I did it on Countess Highglider’s orders. She knows everything, because I told her!”
“You miserable, Motherless bastard!” Rolas roared and charged Hotclaw, who dodged aside, swiping at Rolas’ face with his claws. Rolas intercepted the blow with his left arm, the traitor’s claws tearing through the tough artificial fibers of his coat. He landed a blow to Hotclaw’s stomach, doubling him over. Then he wrapped an arm around Hotclaw’s neck, forcing him to the ground, his jaws reaching for the traitor’s throat in one of the most ancient and primitive instincts of their species.
“You’re not… going… to kill me…” Hotclaw gasped, as Rolas forced his head back, exposing his throat.
“No, I’m going to make you repeat everything you told me to the Farm Lords Council. If the Countess truly sold us out to a pirate, then that’s enough to get her censured easily.”
“She’d… kill me… if I did that!”
“What do I care?”
“You can’t… force me. If I did it…” Eyes bulging, Hotclaw gurgled something unintelligible and then gained enough breath to gasp, “Please… I’ve got a family!”
“So did Dewclaw,” Rolas said softly. He held the traitor there for another moment, his teeth against his throat, before releasing his grip on this neck and kicking Hotclaw away from him. “I, Lord Rolas Darktail, release you from all oaths to House Darktail, traitor. You have twenty hours to remove yourself and your family from the lands we hold."
"Where are we supposed to go?" Hotclaw demanded
"Go run to your mistress and see if she’ll take you into her den. Just get off my ship and out of my sight!”
Hotclaw got to his feet and stumbled, coughing, back out into the corridor. The hatch shut behind him, leaving Rolas in the shadows of the mess hall and the shadows of his thoughts.
She knows.
She knows and I can’t prove it.
What in the Goddess’ name are we going to do now?
TBC
In other news, I downloaded Google Chrome last night. It's shiny!
Rolas found Hotclaw up in orbit aboard the Sallivera, supervising the bridge while the engineering crew went through a power check, bringing up her fusion reactor fully online to test her ability to keep the ship’s superluminal drive and dust jacket generator operating at full capacity, should they ever have a need to run from a pirate again. Hotclaw looked up at him in surprise when he entered, but greeted him with a quick salute and a “Good afternoon, milord. I wasn’t notified you’d be coming aboard.”
“Nothing to worry about, Hotclaw, this isn’t a scheduled visit in any way. I just had a whim to head up and see how the old girl was faring,” Rolas said. “I haven’t had a chance to inspect her since we were intercepted by the Scarlet Claw.”
“Oh, the Sallivera is right as rain, milord. We got the drive working again thanks to the Navy. They even let us have the parts gratis, lucky for us.” He looked up at Rolas hopefully. “Have you heard anything from the insurance company, milord?”
“That situation remains unresolved.” He glanced at Hotclaw, then nodded his head at a pair of technicians monitoring a datascreen piping up the power plant’s readings from Engineering. “I’d like to discuss it in more detail with you, privately.”
“Of course, milord.” Hotclaw called over to the techs, “I’m going to go with Lord Rolas to Engineering to take a look at the reactor. Don’t let anything melt down until we get there.” The techs laughed and Rolas led the first officer down the gangway to the mess hall, empty and lit only with safety lighting, leaving much of it in dim shadow. He let the hatch slide shut behind them and leaned against it, while Hotclaw sat on the edge of the table. “What’s the matter, milord?”
“In truth, we’re being stonewalled by the insurance company. It seems fairly certain we’re not going to be getting any money cover the loss of the cargo. We’re going to have to call it all off.”
There was a half-second pause between his announcement and Hotclaw’s quiet, “Oh, that’s a shame, milord.”
“Yes. It seems poor Dewclaw died for nothing.” Rolas drew in a long breath. “I hope the Holy Den Mother is watching over his soul now.”
The first officer stared at his toes for a bit and said, “I’m sure she is, milord.”
“Did you get a chance to go to his memorial service?”
“Well, um, no not actually, milord. I was busy, y’know, making my statements to the insurance auditors and the Navy. Then I had to mind the Sallivera while she was being repaired.” Hotclaw had looked up to answer Rolas’ question, but his gaze darted about, seeming to focus in every direction except his lord’s face, while his tail dipped down between his legs.
“Understandable. I was a bit busy myself at the time, being an involuntary guest of the Red Vixen. She was a charming hostess actually, I’m almost sorry she died.”
“I’m not,” Hotclaw said quickly. “I mean, she’s the one that killed the poor cub.”
“Is she?” Rolas asked, his voice gone terribly soft. “I think that blame would have to go to the one who handed her our cargo manifest and navigation data.” He tossed over the Red Vixen’s note to Hotclaw, who caught it automatically. The first officer opened it, reading through it quickly, his ears flipping back and his tail curling up completely underneath him.
“This… this is a base lie, milord. I mean, it’s obvious isn’t it?”
“What purpose would it serve her to lie? She already had our cargo. Indeed, when I first surmised that we had been betrayed, she refused to tell me who it was, in case she wanted to use their services again.” He took the note back from Hotclaw’s nerveless paws and tucked it back into his coat pocket. “What did she pay you?”
“Enough,” Hotclaw answered, after a moment’s hesitation, standing up straight, his tail curling back up in defiance.
“Enough to ease your soul over Dewclaw’s death?”
“That wasn’t my fault. You’re the one that ordered us to fight instead of standing down like they told us to.”
“We couldn’t just let them take it. Not with what was at stake. The profit from that cargo was going to help us get away!”
“Maybe some of us didn’t want to get away, milord. Maybe some of us liked it just fine here on Vulpine Prime and weren’t interested in moving our families to some half-terraformed colony world. Ever consider that one?”
“You know what the Countess is doing to us!”
“I know what the Countess is doing to you, milord. That’s got nothing to do with me and mine! What do I care what happens to a traitor lordling and his family?”
“Traitor? You dare call me this? After what Lord Kev did to my sister you dare call me this?
“I’ll call you that and worse, traitor. Oathbreaker. You think I sold you out to the Red Vixen for money? I did it on Countess Highglider’s orders. She knows everything, because I told her!”
“You miserable, Motherless bastard!” Rolas roared and charged Hotclaw, who dodged aside, swiping at Rolas’ face with his claws. Rolas intercepted the blow with his left arm, the traitor’s claws tearing through the tough artificial fibers of his coat. He landed a blow to Hotclaw’s stomach, doubling him over. Then he wrapped an arm around Hotclaw’s neck, forcing him to the ground, his jaws reaching for the traitor’s throat in one of the most ancient and primitive instincts of their species.
“You’re not… going… to kill me…” Hotclaw gasped, as Rolas forced his head back, exposing his throat.
“No, I’m going to make you repeat everything you told me to the Farm Lords Council. If the Countess truly sold us out to a pirate, then that’s enough to get her censured easily.”
“She’d… kill me… if I did that!”
“What do I care?”
“You can’t… force me. If I did it…” Eyes bulging, Hotclaw gurgled something unintelligible and then gained enough breath to gasp, “Please… I’ve got a family!”
“So did Dewclaw,” Rolas said softly. He held the traitor there for another moment, his teeth against his throat, before releasing his grip on this neck and kicking Hotclaw away from him. “I, Lord Rolas Darktail, release you from all oaths to House Darktail, traitor. You have twenty hours to remove yourself and your family from the lands we hold."
"Where are we supposed to go?" Hotclaw demanded
"Go run to your mistress and see if she’ll take you into her den. Just get off my ship and out of my sight!”
Hotclaw got to his feet and stumbled, coughing, back out into the corridor. The hatch shut behind him, leaving Rolas in the shadows of the mess hall and the shadows of his thoughts.
She knows.
She knows and I can’t prove it.
What in the Goddess’ name are we going to do now?
TBC
