Royce's Random Thoughts

Note: I'm changing the name of the story, as you can see. The evolving plot line isn't going quite in the direction I'd figured, and it needed something more appropriate.

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The party finally began winding down an hour before midnight. Long practice from dealing with her late husband’s temper helped Salli keep the calm smile plastered on her face. There were no more questions about Alinadar, or commentary on the news article, Mother Goddess be praised. When the musical quartet in the corner began playing the traditional Fare the Well, Those Who Part to start shuffling all the guests out the door, she let out a covert sigh of relief.

Once the last of them had gone, and the quartet began packing up their instruments, Salli’s mother approached, smiling approvingly. “You did very well this evening, dear,” she said. It was only Salli’s imagination that insisted her mother’s tone resembled that of someone addressing a cub who’d successfully learned how to use the Necessary.

( Lack of evidence is not proof of innocence )

The ballroom was in the new western wing of the manor, built in what Salli thought was rather self-consciously reflective of the Age of Airships, from the half-century preceding first contact with Humanity and the start of the Interstellar Era. The floor was tiled with white marble, broken up by geometric triangular patterns laid out in grey tile. Soaring overhead were arches of polished aluminum girders, circles punched out to invoke the ribbing of an airship’s frame. In one corner was a low stage, where a woodwind quartet was providing quiet dinner music for the twenty or so people already present, and at the opposite corner a bar and buffet.

“The Vicountess Sallivera Darktail!” a footman announced as she entered through the double doors. Salli, having taken the precaution of swallowing one of her tabs of optional anti-anxiety medication prior to dressing, did not break down in tears nor even flinch as every nose in the room turned towards the open double doors. Instead she acknowledged the guests with a polite nod, calling out, “Thank you all so much for coming,” to them, before sweeping into the room and bowing to Mother and Father. Behind her and through the double doors, she could just see Zaker turning away to walk up the hallways, presumably to take up her perimeter duties, now that she had delivered her prisoner to their fated punishment.

( Awkward Social Situations, Ahoy! )

Been a while since I've had been able to add enough new material to make posting something worthwhile. Enjoy.

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Entering the house they split off, Ali heading towards the kitchen to grab breakfast for herself, and Salli going upstairs to her room to clean up and get properly dressed for the day. When the noblevixen reached it, she found a young serving vixen waiting for her, sitting on a settee across from her suite’s door.

“Nari, what are you doing here?” Salli asked. She tried not to let the lingering irritation from her conversation with Zaker enter her voice. Nari had been one of a series of servants who had kept a polite watch over Salli at her parent’s orders, during the dark days after her divorce and escape from her late husband Kev. How many hours had the girl sat on that very couch, making sure her leigelady’s daughter didn’t try to irreparably harm herself? As if Kev hadn’t done enough damage to her already.

( Salli is not going to have a good morning. At all. )

The good news, I've got the climax all set in my head, with it partially written out below.

The bad news now I have to write all the bits in the middle to fit it.

( Cut for major plot spoilers )

They walked out into the docking bay in the opposite direction that Aunt Razi had taken, heading towards the private shuttle docks one level up and about a hundred meter spinward. Ali kept alert for traffic from the automated forklifts and contra-grav load plates that zoomed along, keeping herself between them and Lady Salli as they stuck to the marked pedestrian walk paths.

A short trip up the lift and they emerged into the passenger corridors of the station, with carpeting covering the floors and kiosks selling overpriced goods to a captive audience of transients every few meters. As they walked, Ali let go of Salli’s paw and scanned the crowd for threats. Though this was civilized Foxen Prime, far from the Free Territories or menacing pirates, she'd never falter at her job as Lady Salli's bodyguard, never mind being her beloved. One, after all, logically followed the other in her mind.

As they approached the security station leading to the shuttle docks, a gangly foxen in Commoner civilian clothing, with a recorder monocle pressed into his right eye and a press pass clipped to his belt, shoved off from the wall and approached them, smiling broadly. Ali stepped between him and Lady Salli as he approached, flexing her right wrist slightly in case she needed to suddenly drop her palm stunner from its holster hidden in the billowy sleeve of her shirt.

“Lady Darktail?” the commoner called. “Nef Clawstroke, Oceanic News. How ‘bout a picture for the newsnets?”

Ali caught the stiffening of Salli’s ears and tail, even as the latter answered calmly, “No thank you, young man.” The noblevixen kept walking forward towards the security station, and Ali perforce followed.

The news-hack walked in parallel to them, still smiling and talking, keeping his monocle focused on Salli. “Any comment as Greenholme’s Governor General, on the shocking attack on the colony?”

“It was terrible tragedy. I’m grateful for the assistance by the Foxen Navy and the Stellar Patrol in catching the pirates responsible, and preventing further casualties,” Salli replied smoothly, not breaking her stride.

“Did you lose your eye in the attack?” he pressed.

“All right, that’s enough,” Ali interrupted, coming to a halt and turning to face the news-hack, raising her paw to stiff arm him in the chest before he could follow Salli any further.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, raising his paws. “It's a legitimate question!”

“Ali,” Salli said softly in warning. “Not here.” Ali turned her head slightly in the other vixen's direction, catching in her peripheral vision the suddenly alert looks from the security guards just up ahead. She let her paw drop back down to her side, and Clawstroke wisely took a step back.

“I'm actually here to have my cyber eye repaired,” Salli told him, her tone cooling several degrees. “It was originally lost in an incident some three years ago, a fact you might have researched before confronting us. If you have any further questions I strongly advise you contact Darktail Domain's press office. Good day to you.” She turned away and started back towards the security station, Ali sparing the news-hack a withering glance over her shoulder before following.

“Are you all right, Salli?” she asked. Salli's ears and tail were still stiff with suppressed irritation, but not in deep upset, if Ali was reading her right.

“I'm fine,” Salli replied, flashing her Noble ident at a security guard's scanner plate as they passed through the VIP scan arch. Ali did the same, the arch giving a reluctant beep of approval as it acceptedthe implanted permits for her weapons.

“You're sure?”

“Yes, Ali,” Salli said, relaxing slightly as they entered the much less traveled corridor, heading towards the Darktail Domain's private shuttle dock. “The press may be at times irritating, but it does have its place. It keeps the members of the Council of Countesses honorable in their dealings with the Common Folk.”

“What about when the Countesses deal with each other?”

Salli touched her eye patch, smiling without much humor. “That tends to be a more private affair. Usually.”

TBC