Main #3: Here we go a viking.

[Kim]

The Whitemeadow Manor, Glass City, Heled.

The 25th of the 10th month of 3017 GSC.

Wherein the fate of a Knight is decided, and a ship is launched.​

When Isao was finally allowed to see Lord Whitemeadow, he found that there were a pair of the city's Militiamen, in their modern uniforms, Ike jackets in blue with the three roses of the House on their epaulettes, wearing arming belts with the Argent 45's flanking the doors. The Militia had gone a long way towards standardizing their equipment after seizing many of the colony's weapons and taking full control of the city, and the pistols were nickel plated, holstered in white belts. Both of the Militiamen watched him enter.

Aniseth didn't quite understand the concept of an office, but someone - the multi-hue-haired Steward standing beside him with a faint yet smug little look of satisfaction - had explained it to him.

The desk was giant, oak of some genus relative to Piyapon, following the nation's current trend of foresting that untamed, lush expanse of forests, and Aniseth sat behind it in a slender, form fitting, and vibrantly blue robe of the sort he commonly wore. Mantled over it, the black cloth that identified him as a Lord of Kowloon, with the silver lining and single star of a City Lord circling his House's coat of arms.

On his right, in the regalia of the commander of the Militia, Ozzie wore a similar mantle, lined in silver, with the same coat of arms; he had been Knighted.

Ozzie was a foot or two behind everyone else, rubbing his thumb on his holstered gun while he tried to not look too out of place in his relatively simple uniform of dark leather pants and cargo vest underneath his mantle. Wish Mom could see me now, he thought with a small smile which he got rid of when Isao showed up. Guess we'll see what the Lord is planning on doing now.

Cherish silently stood of to the side of her Lord and back, rainbow hair and all, ready to transcribe the session. Rumors had been swirling about the colony of the less than tasteful indiscretions of certain people here, and now, the Mao felt that everything was falling into place. This was, perhaps, going to be the moment of truth that she had been carefully, discreetly fanning. With just the right touch, the right prods, the right whispers in certain ears? Gossip just didn't die. The people that had hurt her Aniseth - they would pay, she resolved.

The Lady Whitemeadow stood behind her Lord husband, her coppery tresses elaborated braided and pinned half up. She unlike the others was dressed to go on a mission- her fine clothing favoring leathers rather than silks and velvets, in rich greens and browns. Her sword was sheathed on her right hip and her pistol was on her left on a dark brown gun belt over brown leather pants, green blouse and vest and boots that terminated at her thighs. Her pale jade eyes watched Aniseth carefully for a moment. Her hand lingered lightly on his shoulder a moment as she leaned forward and kissed him demurely on his cheek.

Gowen sat further back in the room, keeping herself out of the direct conversation. She had a datapad and seemed to be writing on it. Unlike everyone else in the room who were adorned in fancy clothing, or military uniforms, all that adorned her form were two gold bands around her right horn.

The footfalls of armored shoes quietly echoed down the hallway as the aging medic-turned-Asterian Samurai. Sutauto Isao looked at each guard separately with a neutral expression as he closed with them and stopped in front of them. He was wearing his blade, and his helmet was underneath the man's right hand.

"May I enter?" Isao inquired.

"Yes." Aniseth seemed calm, his usual self, though a little sad. He nowadays had that sort of tone. His appearances at the Ministry had become more frequent, and apart from his initial declarations, he had seen fit only to sit in and quietly listen to the goings-on of the city. A kind, but glum young man.

The Samurai took his steps in, his calm eyes meeting everyone's in the room before making a Japanese bow and gracefully coming back up. He seemed relaxed, albeit it slightly tired looking but for a man of his age in Tai Pen he'd be considered a tad old. "I am at your service, m'lord, does everything go well?"

The young, elven lord lifted his still-braced hand. It had been a month since the duel, and he had forgone the cast for a slender, and intricately done wire brace. "I'm healing well. Gowen's been very helpful."

He glanced aside, to his punk-rock steward, and then to Ozzie, on his right, and then he looked back to Isao, letting both of his hands - the one, gloved in a thin version of the gauntlet that the Wyvern company wore, and the other still healing - and looked back to Isao.

"I've been ... thinking about what to do with you. So I've been advised to... listen to what you have to say so that those present can speak in council before I decide. Do you have anything to say...?"

Isao knew this was going to get brought up, no matter how he tried to enter the room. Despite the thoughts, he had taken more time to think over what exactly to say. He placed his helmet down on a small table. moving his hands up to fix his chonmage before pulling a sheathed knife out and cradling it in both hands.

Aleksasha's gaze travelled to Isao. She wondered if Isao remembered what he said he was going to say after the duel. Gowen was also curious, as to how this would go over. There were two males in a conflict of honour, and the idea of either of them simply backing down was, in her experience, unlikely. Though, perhaps her experience would be proven wrong?

"I understand I made the mistake, a mistake I should have seen from far away but was too clouded to see. I went through with the duel by my own misguided honor when I myself had sworn myself to you. I do not blame you if you still wish me to be vanquished from your presence, but I also would like to show at least a small amount of goodwill."

He approached the desk and placed the sheathed knife on the table. "This blade was made in pair with the one in which I carry as my father and his father before him carried. This blade is an extension of my family, and as the sole member of Sutauto that carries its right, I give it to you. Whether you use it to command me or to remove me from view, I do not care as I have ruined your trust of me." He pushed the small sheathed blade half a foot closer and let go of it, returning his hands to his side, "I only wish to apologize as my forefathers would."

Gowen was a little flabbergasted. Not because he apologized, but because he apologized about the Duel. Gowen could be seen over Isao's shoulder, her jaw working as she tried to figure out if that was what he was supposed to apologize for. She obviously had questions.

Oh, joy, Ozzie thought as he looked between the other two males. It's one of those honor things still. Hopefully someone explains what's going on here and whether it is actually big enough to make up for shagging the Duchess.

Aniseth sat back in the chair and folded his hands in his lap, waiting. He gave the blade a good look-over, but didn't respond to the gesture. In fact, his eyes lingered on it only for a few moments before he looked back up again.

"What do you four think?" he asked, deferring to the Steward, the Commander, the Physician and his Wife.

"The Japanese hold familial weapons in great regard, they do not leave the family unless the line is broken. Him giving you his blade, removing it from its mate is akin to him surrendering a part of his soul to you, my Lord Husband,' Aleksasha commented softly, eying the blade. "Accept it, break it, or bury it in his heart, it has the same meaning."

Gowen almost literally stuck her nose into the conversation, trying to be discreet while being very... Not discreet at all. "Uhm, I'm a little confused. If I may, what are you apologizing for? It sounds like you are... Sorry you dueled the Lord?" Gowen asked.

"I don't see why someone would apologize now, rather than then," Cherish replied, flicking some stray strands of hair out of her face. "If someone was going to apologize, it should have been, when the Lord had a pistol pointed at him," the former Mao added. Turning to look at him, she continued, "This should be more about what you're going to do in response Lord Whitemeadow, not what he will say."

"He was not allowed to see Lord Aniseth until Lord Aniseth called for him, Lady Steward," Aleksasha reminded the Secretary politely. Cherish narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.

"I believe the Steward is regarding the root of the problem here," Gowen said, coughing a little forcefully at the end of the statement.

The slender lord cleared his throat, faintly, saying, "The apology was given when ... I shot him. That is finished. Cherish is right, and I just want to know what to do with him, now."

"Isao is a seasoned war veteran and a doctor, if you do not wish him to lead your militia, you could use him elsewhere, my Lord. There is much more planet to explore, to hold and to defend. If it pleases you, have him establish an outpost for another extension of the colony away from here, or man a wall here. You still need soldiers in your militia, my Lord," Aleksasha added softly, replacing her right hand on Aniseth's shoulder. "It's a waste to use the dagger to cut out his heart, use it and him since you have them."

Isao stood with his pride withheld, but the air of regret and humanity echoing as well. He dare not speak, just met his Lord's eyes with silence and no air of ill will. In short, Isao was visibly resigning himself to whatever fate was about to be decided..

Aniseth looked to Ozzie, rain-blue eyes questioning. "Knight Commander?"

The new knight commander nodded in reply, looking at his old boss for a few more moments before saying, "It wasn't his skills that are in doubt, my Lord. It's more of a question of whether you think both of you can put the incident in the past and work together, or if that can't happen and Isao needs to go somewhere else, like Lady Aleksasha said. No reason to put him off to pasture, headless or otherwise."

Aniseth leaned forward and grasped the handle of the Japanese poignard, and then sat back in his great big office chair, lips pursed thoughtfully for a moment. The Lord was clearly not particularly familiar with edged implements used to kill people, because he pressed it against his finger, and cut it. A month ago, he might have cried, or panicked, but this time he just seemed to deflate, slender shoulders dipping for a time.

He looked at the blade, at his finger. Then, he found a little handkerchief to dab the small cut with. This seemed to take up a bit of the silence, soaking it in as the cloth soaked in the accidentally shed blood.

"Have you ever captained a ship?" The moment Aniseth said this, Cherish raised an eyebrow, but otherwise kept silent. In truth, she already didn't like where this was going; it felt like he was going to get away!

Aleksasha pulled a small bandage from her one of belt pouches and offered it to Aniseth, leaning more directly over his shoulder for a moment. "Use this, Seth," she whispered into her husband's ear.

Gowen decided to actually break the silence. "Right! So, if you are all going to talk about military positions and other such stuff, I believe I am going to take my leave. I'm not too fond of combat and such, so if you would excuse me, M'Lord," She asked, bowing her head to Aniseth and slowly walking backwards. He nodded, then looked back to Isao.

Isao lightly shook his head, "I am afraid not, m'lord, the closest I got to doing anything with a warship was my time aboard the derelict in which I spent seven years of my life. I am a combat medic and a swordsman, I never have ventured much into space."

"There is a ship in the harbor recruiting for raiding," Aniseth stated, "I can't spare the Militia, and my wife's company is chartered to range Heled. But, if you can find volunteers, I will allow you to carry my banner into the raiding, along with my daughter-in-law's favored company, and their Lord. We intend to share in the spoils. The Avern Liad and a small raiding company should be the contribution. It's currently being repainted."

Isao nodded, "It will be done, m'lord, I intend to bring back as much as the ship can carry, as much as twice all of our weights combined. Is there anything else, m'lord?" Isao was relieved to say the least, and it was visible on his face.

Aniseth didn't quite share his enthusiasm. He glanced to Ozzie, to Aleksasha behind him, and then he rose. He and Cherish were the shorter two. The Lord Whitemeadow folded his hands behind the gentle curvature of his waist and said, "You may use my house colors for this, recruit from this city, and other colonies on Heled, and that is all. Lord Rochon and I have an agreement."

Picking the short sword from the desk again, Aniseth sheathed it.

"You'll serve me at distance. Don't return," the young elf spoke.

Isao felt the weight of the Lord's statement, but he resigned himself to his fate. He'd dug his hole, and now it was time to either live in it or begin to climb. Isao took a deep bow and held it there in a very formal tone. "By your will, m'lord."

He arose and turned around. He walked over to the table on which his helmet laid dormant. He picked it up and placed it on his head. The helmet's side and back obscured the others of his vision, as the emotion slowly drained from his face and was replaced with a stark contrast of regret and acceptance rolled into one emotionless husk of an expression.

"Fight well.. Hikari wa saigo no hoshi kara taishoku shite imasen," Aleksasha added with a reassuring tone of voice and a short nod.

Isao turned his head slightly to the side, "Watashitachi ga ando suru made wa, yuki to jigoku o osotte kōshin suru no wa taoreta bakaridesuga." He turned his head back ahead and walked out of the Lord's office. He aimed to collect his things and head for the ship, knowing it would be a while before he would see this place again.

I really need to brush up on my Japanese again, Ozzie thought with annoyance as he watched his old boss leave. "Good luck, Isao," he said, taking his hand off his weapon and folding his arms instead.

The guards on the door shut it, leaving Aniseth and his House's small council, lacking Gowen of course, void of the object of their attention.

"Fare well," Cherrish bid goodbye. Though she did her best to keep her face neutral, the former Mao couldn't help but feel her glee. With luck, this would be the death of him.