Ships of the Line

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   <default>Ships of the Line</default>
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</image> <label>Posted On</label> <label>Author</label> <label>Music Theme</label> <group collapse="open"> <header>Order</header> <label>Previous Suggested Manuscript</label> <label>Previous Suggested Story</label> <label>Next Suggested Story</label> <label>Next Suggested Manuscript</label> <label>Chronologically Previous Manuscript</label> <label>Chronologically Previous Story</label> <label>Chronologically Next Story</label> <label>Chronologically Next Manuscript</label> </group> <group collapse="open"> <header>Series</header> <label>Series</label> <label>Previous</label> <label>Next</label> </group> <group collapse="open"> <header>About the Manuscript</header> <label>Type of Story</label> <label>Canon Status</label> </group> <group collapse="open"> <header>About the Story</header> <label>Date</label> <label>Location(s)</label> <label>Characters</label> </group> </infobox> “ vladoks . , ” He felt two feelings at the sound of the king’s voice, neither of which he showed as he turned round to face him, head bowed.  First, he was known by many names. The snake. The traitor. The usurper. The scorpion that stabbed the camel’s back. Or was it the frog?  New idioms had come to Morcia, and the surrounding lands, since the day the Paradox arrived. Regardless, his true name, of course, was Vladek, and everyone knew that, so it was not without chagrin that he felt to hearing it butchered in so puerile a manner.  Secondly, it was unusual for Lord thedude to wander about the castle, or leave the throne room at all, so needless to say Vladek was not expecting his sudden... appearance behind him. “My liege, I am at your service,” the man greeted. “ a haz bin lork ins fos yu . ” thedude stated with petulence.  “ a ned unz op date on deh modee fi kations fos deh oonvorse drav . ” Vladek turned over the noises he’d just heard in his head until a coherent sentence formed.  “An update on the Unverse Drive? Of course, your Excellency. I’ll bring it to you in the hour.” thedude harrumphed.  “ yus , n bee fas tor at beein found necks tim . a lorkd fos yu fos olmast un aur ! , an am haz hongr . ! ” “Absolutely, your Majesty.”  Vladek bowed again, but thedude had already turned to leave the armory and tottered off.  So Vladek turned back to the Knight’s sword on the table before him. The sword had been brought back to Orlan, but not the Knight, who had managed to evade the Paradox battalion sent to apprehend him, evidently.  From what he’d gathered, they’d gotten so far as to grab his coat, only for the Knight to slip out of it and run, in the process dropping his sword, which lay before him now. Such incompetence was not to be tolerated, and Vladek’s next stop would have been the stables for his steed, but now thedude’s assignment needed priority. An update on the Unverse drive.  Vladek shook his head at the thought of it, as he made his way to the communications room through the castle halls, that still remained largely the same in terms of construction as they had when the coward Mathias was still in charge.  Stone walls, stone floors, some sections with wood, and many spots covered with carpets and frequent tapestries depicting scenes of olde. Even the murals of Mathias and his family remained, which Vladek looked at with contempt. I have defeated you, he thought of them.  I have taken back what belongs to me.  Even though thedude was technically the king, he was also an idiot, and everyone knew that.  It wasn’t fame and fortune that Vladek sought, although such things were nice, but power, influence, and control, which behind the scenes, everyone knew was in Vladek’s hands. Except, though, for that which concerned matters of the unbelievable air travel, unfathomable space travel, and now travel to other universes?  Vladek had no interest in leaving the planet, let alone stepped foot on a flying ship. Traveling to another universe was incomprehensible. He would let the Rogues take care of that. In the communications room, Rogues manned terminals monitoring information and transmissions with forces across the planet and also out in space, but Vladek looked for one Rogue in particular, and found her in the usual spot by the balcony window, where large radar dishes had been installed outside, the wires running into the room through old arrow slits in the stone, to connect to her terminal.  Also as usual, she faced him even before he’d approached close. The Rogue Synthia was attentive, responsive, and competent, traits that few Rogues could replicate, so Vladek sought her out. “Greetings, Sir Vladek.” said Synthia to him.  “How can I help you?” “His Majesty requests an update on the Unverse drive,” Vladek passed on. Synthia turned to her terminal.  “The latest information is five hours old,” she relayed.  “The drive is not yet functional in a starship, it failed to power up in the last one, so the techs are waiting for the next starship to arrive to test it in, a Grandeur class.  As well, it will arrive carrying the delegates from Fridia that his Majesty arranged to meet. Their estimated time of arrival is,” she did a quick calculation in her head, “three hours from now.” “Relay that to his guard,” Vladek directed, before continuing quietly, for only Synthia to hear, but appearing as if he were muttering to himself, “All this space travel, nevermind universe travel...”  He tilted his head a moment, then stood up straight. “Dismissed,” he said to her, then he dismissed himself, and left Synthia and the communications room. He actually wasn’t foreign to space travel and universe travel, but sometimes, when implanting an idea in another’s head, especially a lie, it helped to believe the lie himself.

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In the eight years since thedude’s iron fist delivered its first punch to the gut of Militiregnum, and even some time prior, Subcommander Ebner Borock had met a number of interesting people in some stage of alliance with thedude, either long allied, or newly allied, or not yet allied, the latter being the case of the latest contingent to be introduced to the King.

Fridia’s largest and most influential government had evolved over hundreds of years as a matriarchal society, and it remained as such.  The visiting delegation was entirely female.

The droning of a Barney Fighter was heard before it materialized through the overcast clouds above Orlan.  It descended in spiral until it barely scraped the rooftops of the capitol buildings, then it straightened out to approach the castle.  It slowed as it cleared the walls, then hovered down to settle in the courtyard, and the boarding ramp descended.

Borock removed his helmet as the first Fridians disembarked, a small troop of decorated guards armed with electro-bayonets, all female, followed by five distinguished members of Fridian government, set apart by their more decorated governance attire, and as they stepped further into view it became apparent that there were physical differences between the average Fridian and the rest of the core world peoples as well.  They were all taller and more slender than the average human, with more pronounced jaws and larger eyes. By contemporary definitions, they were beautiful, and knowing it was impolite to stare, Borock reconsidered having removed his helmet in hindsight, but made sure to direct his gaze better before the delegation reached him.

“I am Subcommander Borock,” he greeted, “leader of the Royal Orlan Guard.  His Majesty welcomes you to Militiregnum.”

The leading Fridian delegate, a woman with ebony skin and flowing dark hair, responded with a stately nod.  “I am Countess Bethesda, representative to the Governess of Nova Faria, the First Fridian Province.”

The others introduced themselves as well, as they were all peers.  The blond representative was Countess Kristine of the Tundran Heights.  The ginger representative was Countess Maximilia of the Ocean Province. The brunette was Countess Oberyna of the Willamettes, a plains and rivers province, and the fair skinned, black haired Countless Emelie represented the governess of the southern province.

Having took his task seriousness, Borock had prior research done on the ranks and customs of Fridian imperiality, so he knew that these representatives were as well related by blood to their governesses, usually sisters, aunts, or nieces, making any insult to them all the more a personal affront to their governesses.  But he was frequently chosen to lead these introductions, and as a reasonable and inoffensive man, he was always successful, thanks in part to his contextual diligence before entering situations, when he had time to prepare. Real-time combat was another matter.

He bowed his head courteously.  “We are honored by your presence, esteemed representatives.  His Majesty will see you in the throne room. But first, at his Majesty’s request, may I offer you a tour?”