Cetashwayo
Lord of Ten Thousand Years
- Location
- Across the Horizon
[X] Well, stop that. We can get you books.
[X] Purge the armor.
[X] Purge the armor.
Marca Estrella: A Game of Chivalry in the Time of Archengines
- Thread starter Exhack
- Start date
- Original
- Location
- in the trash
[X] Well, stop that. We can get you books.
[X] Eject the cockpits, those systems are important and we have plenty of time for repairs.
[X] Eject the cockpits, those systems are important and we have plenty of time for repairs.
- Location
- The Hague
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I definitely have to recommend purging the armour rather than the cockpit. The dude in there isn't exactly what anime trained me to expect, but my giant robot senses tell me a stripped down Archengine that basically works will be more useful in the short term. I don't see these peaceful times lasting for much longer, and being unarmoured will be suitably dramatic for the first battle.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Well, stop that. We can get you books.
[X] Eject the cockpits, those systems are important and we have plenty of time for repairs.
We have plenty of hours, (unless we don't???) if it means less risk and less damage.
[X] Eject the cockpits, those systems are important and we have plenty of time for repairs.
We have plenty of hours, (unless we don't???) if it means less risk and less damage.
Sirrocco
Pedantic
If we go unarmored into the first battle, the necessary repairs to recover from it will be terrible.
As far as I can see it, ejecting the cockpit will take less work to fix than ditching the armor, but the mech will be unusable until the work is done, whereas ditching the armor will result in a mech that is usable but terribly fragile until the work is done. That just means that if we can focus on fixing the cockpit, we actually save time overall as compared to ditching the armor. We aren't going to have anything horrible happening in the next day or so - our parents and fiance have already called off whatever they were going to pull.
@Exhack - do we have any idea how long it would likely take to repair the cockpit after an eject as compared to fixing the armor after a purge?
- Location
- The Hague
- Pronouns
- He/Him
- Pronouns
- She/Her
A few hours for the cockpit.
Longer for the armour, but the archengine will function without the armour, it won't function at all without the cockpits.
Sirrocco
Pedantic
Cool. That's what I thought.
So, yeah. Given that they've called off the revolution for right now, i think we have a few hours to put the cockpit back in.
Part Uno XII: Michael, Unshackled
- Pronouns
- She/Her
(I warn you all I'm writing this in the altered mental state that comes after a migraine, so apologies for any issues of coherency)
[X] Just don't get into trouble, please.
[X] Purge the Armour
"Purge the Armour. It's pretty corroded anyway. It should be fixed up before we used it again." You step back and climb back onto the walkway. "I'm clear of you. You can do it when you're ready."
<<Very well>> There's a hiss and a series of small explosions, the external fittings drop around the machine in a spray of dust. Beneath the machine gleams silver, you can see your reflection in the finish. The only colour is the coat of arms built into the chest, an angel in white and blue.
The cockpit hinges open, and you look in at the, your, escudero. He's reaches up as you step forward. "Perhaps you'd help me?" He asks. "I am a little stiff after my long sleep."
"I see." You feel a flash of fastidiousness, but reach out anyway to take his hand, pulling him up. He steps free easily, trailing preservative and little threads. He's quite naked, the whips of cloth sloughing off his arms and legs providing you little mercry. You flush and avert your eyes hastily.
This greenish prune of a man, shorter than you, with his unkempt mass of hair is a far cry from the romance you had been raised on. You imagined your first escudero to be a gallant young man making his first steps into the world or a pretty young debutant who'd you be fast friends with. You felt cheated by the revelation.
"Perhaps a towel is in order?" He asks, showing not a hint of modesty as he runs his fingers over his soggy limbs with surprise, "and a shower."
"Yes." You blush. "Aina…" No wait, that's totally improper. "Someone…"
Aina runs up the stairwell and to your side. She hands the escudero, Avagis, a towel. It's a bit oil stained but it provides him with a small measure of modesty as he wraps it around himself like a skirt.
He smiles coyly, his lined features showing vim and boyishness you hadn't noticed before. "Why thank you. I must look quite a state. Could you show me to the washing facilities."
"Ah," Thomas says, "There's one we use just behind here." He shows the escudero into the back. You follow along at a distance, standing outside the door. Inside you hear the shower go on and a contented sigh. His voice is not the one you'd expect from his body either. He sounds young.
<<Not exactly the imperial baths, but still the most wonderful thing in existence.>> He says in your mind, voice coming through clear over the sound of the water.>>
"You said you were a servant of the Empire Migrant?"
<<Yes, its last servant, for I saw it fall above this very world>> His mental voice is melancholy but somehow proud. <<The Emperor assembled all his hosts. The Five Orders of Saint Beatrice, each five hundred and twenty one strong. The Order of Saint Dunstan, who numbered eighteen hundred and twenty six. The retinues of the Dukes of Holest, each numbering one hundred thousand and one. The order of Saint Helena, who numbered with them six hundred and three. All the knights of the Malta Cluster, numbering two million, five thousand, one hundred and six.>>
In your mind you see them, rank upon rank of star ships, each with rows of archengines standing atop their decks. Great banners fluttering against the stars, huge engines moving along the ground. The flower of ancient chivalry. They were not a new army, but one that had known hardship, proud of its victories and strengthened by their defeats.
<<We were joined by all our allies. The Khanate of Al-Alquea sent their twin generals, whom survived the battle. The alien Truftmil deployed their vast and lethal engines. Even six warrior dragons stood with us on the field that day, each with its own legion of Simulcra.>>
You see them, the six great dragons and their legions of crab like warriors, the twin generals, dark haired and alike.
<<And at their head, the Emperor's own Guard, the Ten Thousand Companions. My master stood at the head of that number. It was our last battle together.>>
"Who was this great war against?" You ask. "How long ago was it?"
"I don't know." He says aloud. "What year is it now?"
"It is 8061"
"I have no idea what calendar that is in, so I really don't know. I'd have to look it up. Certainly though, a long while ago." He sighs. "Dear Lady, would you permit a favour? Go to the cargo section of the cockpit, and see if my cosmetic flask still survives."
"Oh, of course." You walk quickly back to the archengine and search the cockpit, now drained, coming up with a sealed canister of gleaming white. "Is this it?" You ask, holding it through the door. Aina is giving you a dirty look at having stuck your arm into the disgusting cockpit, but you managed to keep any goop off of your clothes. You feel like you shouldn't be mean to old men anyway. Your parents taught you to respect your elders.
"Why yes." He takes the flask and there's the sound of humming. <<Much better>>
The door opens and Avagis stands before you, his hair held back into a ponytail with a gilded clip. He is still rather painfully thin, but his skin has been restored, now gleaming white like that of some ancient marble, you realize that he is, by all appearances, probably a year or two your junior. He is also quite absurdly handsome, with a strong, symmetrical face, high cheekbones and an impish handsomeness that makes him fully the equal of the angel painted on his machine.
The towel is hung over the rail, stained green with preservation fluid.
"A-ah." You blush and hastily avert your eyes. Aina comes to the rescue, having somehow obtained a set of clothes in all this. She hands them in, eyes carefully on his face.
"Here you go Sir. Please stop trying to fluster my Mistress." Aina frowns at him, disapproving.
"Ah, but flustering one's Mistress is one of the pleasures of being a servant." Nevertheless he steps back inside the room and begins to dress. After a moment he steps back out, attired in what is probably Thomas's more formal wear, a formal tunic and tights, along with shiny shoes. You find yourself thinking that he looks even more handsome with clothes on but then remind yourself you are engaged to be married. You certainly shouldn't think such things as that!
"I'd like you to show me around your archengine, Michael." Somehow you know the name. "Now, if you please."
"Your pleasure is mine Mistress." He sketches a bow. "We should start by cleaning it. It is quite musty."
"I'll wait until they've cleaned it before you give me the tour. I need to introduce you to my father and make the arrangements for your sleeping quarters."
"Mistress is very filial."
"I'd already promised myself to tell my parents of the discovery, and now that you've come out of it. Well." The miraculousness of your discovery is not entirely lost on you, especially with Avagis present.
Avagis smiles sheepishly. "And self-aware. I'm glad."
You frown, "I said not to get in trouble."
"Of course, of course. Now, where to?" Avagis practically bounces as he asks, light on his feet and peering around. Pretty blue eyes dart to every corner of the workshop, taking everything in with intense interest.
"We're going to see father first and explain things to him. He's… a little easier for me to convince of these matters than mother, and if we can get that far she'll probably resign herself to his decisions." You say, just a little quieter to seem overtly discourteous in front of the servants. You look over at Aina and nod, but you quickly notice that she's just a touch nervous, making her pleasantly biting remarks or gestures at the moment. Her gaze is fixed to the door.
You don't have to guess who's there.
Your father's heeled piloting boots clack against the grimy ferracrete, the only noise in the great space as the servants pause their work to pay him respect. You feel him inches from you, his arm stretching out to point towards the silver giant, and then the sinewy stranger in Thomas' clothes. You wince.
"Mireia Maria Caterina de la Bota. What is that, and who is this?" He's not mad. Your shoulders sag, and you expel air as quietly as you can manage before sucking in another breath.
Avagis claps his hands. <<Ahah! So this is your Father! Handsome man and in good shape, surprisingly. Though it seems like you should take a little more after your mother, unless there is some secret in your house's genes...>>
"Sh-" you turn to your escudero and almost say something, but return your attention to your father.
[ ] He's not mad and we don't need to make him mad. Explain exactly what has happened and who Avagis is.
[ ] As much as you love them, your parents might not be entirely trustworthy. Explain just the basics. You found an archengine, and inside was a sleeping escudero.
[ ] Lie! Avagis is a young noble who wanted to… bequeath his damaged archengine to you for saving his life this morning in Puerto Poco. Yes. Absolutely. Which is why you purged the armor just now.
[ ] Now you ask the questions. Confront him about the Count. At worst he'll get angry and leave you alone.
[X] Just don't get into trouble, please.
[X] Purge the Armour
"Purge the Armour. It's pretty corroded anyway. It should be fixed up before we used it again." You step back and climb back onto the walkway. "I'm clear of you. You can do it when you're ready."
<<Very well>> There's a hiss and a series of small explosions, the external fittings drop around the machine in a spray of dust. Beneath the machine gleams silver, you can see your reflection in the finish. The only colour is the coat of arms built into the chest, an angel in white and blue.
The cockpit hinges open, and you look in at the, your, escudero. He's reaches up as you step forward. "Perhaps you'd help me?" He asks. "I am a little stiff after my long sleep."
"I see." You feel a flash of fastidiousness, but reach out anyway to take his hand, pulling him up. He steps free easily, trailing preservative and little threads. He's quite naked, the whips of cloth sloughing off his arms and legs providing you little mercry. You flush and avert your eyes hastily.
This greenish prune of a man, shorter than you, with his unkempt mass of hair is a far cry from the romance you had been raised on. You imagined your first escudero to be a gallant young man making his first steps into the world or a pretty young debutant who'd you be fast friends with. You felt cheated by the revelation.
"Perhaps a towel is in order?" He asks, showing not a hint of modesty as he runs his fingers over his soggy limbs with surprise, "and a shower."
"Yes." You blush. "Aina…" No wait, that's totally improper. "Someone…"
Aina runs up the stairwell and to your side. She hands the escudero, Avagis, a towel. It's a bit oil stained but it provides him with a small measure of modesty as he wraps it around himself like a skirt.
He smiles coyly, his lined features showing vim and boyishness you hadn't noticed before. "Why thank you. I must look quite a state. Could you show me to the washing facilities."
"Ah," Thomas says, "There's one we use just behind here." He shows the escudero into the back. You follow along at a distance, standing outside the door. Inside you hear the shower go on and a contented sigh. His voice is not the one you'd expect from his body either. He sounds young.
<<Not exactly the imperial baths, but still the most wonderful thing in existence.>> He says in your mind, voice coming through clear over the sound of the water.>>
"You said you were a servant of the Empire Migrant?"
<<Yes, its last servant, for I saw it fall above this very world>> His mental voice is melancholy but somehow proud. <<The Emperor assembled all his hosts. The Five Orders of Saint Beatrice, each five hundred and twenty one strong. The Order of Saint Dunstan, who numbered eighteen hundred and twenty six. The retinues of the Dukes of Holest, each numbering one hundred thousand and one. The order of Saint Helena, who numbered with them six hundred and three. All the knights of the Malta Cluster, numbering two million, five thousand, one hundred and six.>>
In your mind you see them, rank upon rank of star ships, each with rows of archengines standing atop their decks. Great banners fluttering against the stars, huge engines moving along the ground. The flower of ancient chivalry. They were not a new army, but one that had known hardship, proud of its victories and strengthened by their defeats.
<<We were joined by all our allies. The Khanate of Al-Alquea sent their twin generals, whom survived the battle. The alien Truftmil deployed their vast and lethal engines. Even six warrior dragons stood with us on the field that day, each with its own legion of Simulcra.>>
You see them, the six great dragons and their legions of crab like warriors, the twin generals, dark haired and alike.
<<And at their head, the Emperor's own Guard, the Ten Thousand Companions. My master stood at the head of that number. It was our last battle together.>>
"Who was this great war against?" You ask. "How long ago was it?"
"I don't know." He says aloud. "What year is it now?"
"It is 8061"
"I have no idea what calendar that is in, so I really don't know. I'd have to look it up. Certainly though, a long while ago." He sighs. "Dear Lady, would you permit a favour? Go to the cargo section of the cockpit, and see if my cosmetic flask still survives."
"Oh, of course." You walk quickly back to the archengine and search the cockpit, now drained, coming up with a sealed canister of gleaming white. "Is this it?" You ask, holding it through the door. Aina is giving you a dirty look at having stuck your arm into the disgusting cockpit, but you managed to keep any goop off of your clothes. You feel like you shouldn't be mean to old men anyway. Your parents taught you to respect your elders.
"Why yes." He takes the flask and there's the sound of humming. <<Much better>>
The door opens and Avagis stands before you, his hair held back into a ponytail with a gilded clip. He is still rather painfully thin, but his skin has been restored, now gleaming white like that of some ancient marble, you realize that he is, by all appearances, probably a year or two your junior. He is also quite absurdly handsome, with a strong, symmetrical face, high cheekbones and an impish handsomeness that makes him fully the equal of the angel painted on his machine.
The towel is hung over the rail, stained green with preservation fluid.
"A-ah." You blush and hastily avert your eyes. Aina comes to the rescue, having somehow obtained a set of clothes in all this. She hands them in, eyes carefully on his face.
"Here you go Sir. Please stop trying to fluster my Mistress." Aina frowns at him, disapproving.
"Ah, but flustering one's Mistress is one of the pleasures of being a servant." Nevertheless he steps back inside the room and begins to dress. After a moment he steps back out, attired in what is probably Thomas's more formal wear, a formal tunic and tights, along with shiny shoes. You find yourself thinking that he looks even more handsome with clothes on but then remind yourself you are engaged to be married. You certainly shouldn't think such things as that!
"I'd like you to show me around your archengine, Michael." Somehow you know the name. "Now, if you please."
"Your pleasure is mine Mistress." He sketches a bow. "We should start by cleaning it. It is quite musty."
"I'll wait until they've cleaned it before you give me the tour. I need to introduce you to my father and make the arrangements for your sleeping quarters."
"Mistress is very filial."
"I'd already promised myself to tell my parents of the discovery, and now that you've come out of it. Well." The miraculousness of your discovery is not entirely lost on you, especially with Avagis present.
Avagis smiles sheepishly. "And self-aware. I'm glad."
You frown, "I said not to get in trouble."
"Of course, of course. Now, where to?" Avagis practically bounces as he asks, light on his feet and peering around. Pretty blue eyes dart to every corner of the workshop, taking everything in with intense interest.
"We're going to see father first and explain things to him. He's… a little easier for me to convince of these matters than mother, and if we can get that far she'll probably resign herself to his decisions." You say, just a little quieter to seem overtly discourteous in front of the servants. You look over at Aina and nod, but you quickly notice that she's just a touch nervous, making her pleasantly biting remarks or gestures at the moment. Her gaze is fixed to the door.
You don't have to guess who's there.
Your father's heeled piloting boots clack against the grimy ferracrete, the only noise in the great space as the servants pause their work to pay him respect. You feel him inches from you, his arm stretching out to point towards the silver giant, and then the sinewy stranger in Thomas' clothes. You wince.
"Mireia Maria Caterina de la Bota. What is that, and who is this?" He's not mad. Your shoulders sag, and you expel air as quietly as you can manage before sucking in another breath.
Avagis claps his hands. <<Ahah! So this is your Father! Handsome man and in good shape, surprisingly. Though it seems like you should take a little more after your mother, unless there is some secret in your house's genes...>>
"Sh-" you turn to your escudero and almost say something, but return your attention to your father.
[ ] He's not mad and we don't need to make him mad. Explain exactly what has happened and who Avagis is.
[ ] As much as you love them, your parents might not be entirely trustworthy. Explain just the basics. You found an archengine, and inside was a sleeping escudero.
[ ] Lie! Avagis is a young noble who wanted to… bequeath his damaged archengine to you for saving his life this morning in Puerto Poco. Yes. Absolutely. Which is why you purged the armor just now.
[ ] Now you ask the questions. Confront him about the Count. At worst he'll get angry and leave you alone.
- Location
- in the trash
[X] He's not mad and we don't need to make him mad. Explain exactly what has happened and who Avagis is.
Look if we alienate our parents now convention dictates that the next time we will see them is when they're dying in front of our eyes and we want to reconcile but it's already too late
Look if we alienate our parents now convention dictates that the next time we will see them is when they're dying in front of our eyes and we want to reconcile but it's already too late
- Location
- The Hague
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That is absolutely true ... so that's what I'm gonna do!
[X] As much as you love them, your parents might not be entirely trustworthy. Explain just the basics. You found an archengine, and inside was a sleeping escudero.
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
-
[X] He's not mad and we don't need to make him mad. Explain exactly what has happened and who Avagis is.
So Avis is like 40-70, right? I'm assuming that being at the height of technology means that he ages at a slowed rate.
So Avis is like 40-70, right? I'm assuming that being at the height of technology means that he ages at a slowed rate.
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Part Uno XIII: The Truth, Revealed
Exhack
We Won't Build The Plane!
- Location
- Montreal, Canada
[X] He's not mad and we don't need to make him mad. Explain exactly what has happened and who Avagis is.
"Father…" You suck in a deep breath and then say it in a rush. "Father, I found this ancient archengine in the desert earlier. It was when I was on my way to do my shopping, I saw this…" You pause a minute, trying to think how to put it into words. "This blueness on one of the wrecks, like it was newly painted. When I got close it was all corroded and aged, but I was taken with it, and it seemed mostly functional. When we got it in here, we did a deep scan, found that it still had an occupant, the escudero I got near it and well, I felt something."
"You really shouted." Avagis says, uncouthly turning his left pinky through inside of the matching ear. "It woke me out of my long slumber."
"Yes, apparently my mind is very loud." You rub your forehead, not sure if your father will believe any of this. "We've just opened the hatch. This is the man who was inside. He claims to be the last survivor of some ancient empire, from when this planet was a world of forests and oceans. He claims his was the most powerful archengine of that ancient empire's legions."
Your father blinks for a moment, opens his mouth, then seems to think some more. Then he grabs both you and Avagis in a hefty bear hug. "This is wonderful news!" He smiles broadly. "Our fortune is restored Miriea! The scholars wishing to talk to your new friend alone would make us rich and famous, with an intact archengine of such power as well. Nobody will dare to touch us. We are saved."
Something about the way he says that last has an immediacy and relief to it that you think he means more than the family's ailing fortune.
"Father, what do you mean?" You ask, suddenly, chillingly filled with suspicious. It's as if every move your father makes speaks of a great, overwhelming fear. A terror "What, what exactly did we need to be saved from?"
"Why, poverty, the fall of the house, our ill fortune of course. You know this my Dove." He smiles, trying to placate you. You do not allow yourself to be placated.
"Father, I was forthright with you and I'd appreciate a straight answer in return. What is happening in this house, with Balduino? Why did you act so shocked when you heard the Don had stayed? What is happening?"
"Mireia, nothing is happening. Come, how was your lunch with di Gano?"
He's trying to change the subject. You feel a sudden hot surge of anger in your chest and glare at him. "Father, if you don't respect me enough to tell me the truth, I shall simply leave." You turn on your heel but he puts a hand on your shoulder.
"Mireia, I…" You hear him take a deep breath. "Please sir, will you excuse my daughter and I?"
"Oh, of course." Avagis smiles, he walks outside, looking at the flowers.
"We made a deal with your fiancee." He looks down at the ground. "To take this planet together."
"To take the planet? How would you even do that?"
"Our family has many old friends here. If we were to back a new regime, so would most of the other minor houses. We were to wait for the Don was off world, and then
"Father… this is treason," You find, to your horror, you're considering this awful scheme seriously, as if you could ever go through with something so dishonourable. "Even if it worked, the Empire would send troops. They would never allow this world to be lost."
"di Gano had a way around that. He had off world allies. The coup was to be a signal for Gallian border princes- several of their Emperor's own children leading the charge. I've heard the Emperor himself may be here. Turns out there's more than just rusting metal lying around here."
"What do you mean? What is here?"
"That old ship you're so fond of, in the north. It has an intact Gate of Solomon, one without any extant connections. I don't know the specifics but your mother and di Gano discussed it at length. A hundred Gallian knights would have walked out without the interference of the defenses in orbit."
You think for a moment of Balduino, his determined expressions. His obvious ambition "We need to warn the Don."
"Mireia, my beautiful daughter- listen to you! Warn the Don? About what?"
"About the fact that Balduino is about to mount a coup against him perhaps? Do you really think that your refusal would mean anything? Can it really be Father, that you know him less after all these months than I do in an afternoon?"
Your words finally rouse him, and he gesturing angrily with his left hand as if he were sweeping the discussion away. "Balduino di Gano has nothing without us. The entire programme was of your mother's devising, the kind of occult science only an escudero of her quality could understand, let alone use."
If your father really thinks di Gano cannot penetrate mother's books when left alone in the house for hours on end, he really has lost his senses. More likely, he's just making excuses to deny what he must know "Father, he was here mere hours ago! Do you really think it's beyond him to come back in force?"
"We have Grifon! I have your Mother. And this archengine of yours..."
"A count's vassal knights will outnumber us, if he's so determined. Grifon is an old model and it was never a good one, not even in her heyday."
"...I." Your father's shoulders sag and buries his face in his hands briefly, exhaling into his palms before looking back at you sternly. "Daughter, I have had all of these thoughts and I've known what to expect now that our association with your husband-to-be has fallen through all along. I was deluding myself, thinking that it would all end because we stopped ourselves at the last moment. I am not proud of what's happened, nor of the decisions that have lead to it, but know this..."
"...that I am very proud to have you as my daughter."
"I'm proud to be your daughter, just the same." You extend your hand to your father, but he swiftly takes it and pulls you into an embrace, his arms around your back and your own drawn to his neck. His body is warm and slightly soft from age, but the familiar affection is comforting in this moment. Somehow, you find yourself remarking on his smallness, the mere inch of height that separates you and him.
"And please… he's hardly going to be my husband after all this." You sigh as he continues to hold you, feeling a pang of betrayal and disappointment welling in your chest. An ache of something that felt so sure of, being gone without ever having been there in the first place. An hour ago you imagined yourself falling in love and now you find yourself questioning if you can still love your own family.
The ground begins to shake. Technicians look up as dust drains down from the ceiling. Avagis looks back in. "Where you expecting visitors Lady? Because there are archengines on the horizon. Three of them, and a pair of other machines. Some form of automaton. Nice designs this era, all said."
You step to the door, your father with you. Five huge machines stalk towards the estate, in the lead is a vast lanky archengine, its paint black and gold, a long and billowing cloak flowing behind it as it walks, strides graceful and perfectly balanced. "That's the Murgleys. di Gano's machine." Your Father turns towards the Grifon. "I will go out and confront them."
"Father…"
What will you say to him?
[ ] "I love you."
[ ] "Let me go instead."
[ ] "Let me talk to him."
[ ] "Don't die."
[ ] "You shouldn't have done this."
"Father…" You suck in a deep breath and then say it in a rush. "Father, I found this ancient archengine in the desert earlier. It was when I was on my way to do my shopping, I saw this…" You pause a minute, trying to think how to put it into words. "This blueness on one of the wrecks, like it was newly painted. When I got close it was all corroded and aged, but I was taken with it, and it seemed mostly functional. When we got it in here, we did a deep scan, found that it still had an occupant, the escudero I got near it and well, I felt something."
"You really shouted." Avagis says, uncouthly turning his left pinky through inside of the matching ear. "It woke me out of my long slumber."
"Yes, apparently my mind is very loud." You rub your forehead, not sure if your father will believe any of this. "We've just opened the hatch. This is the man who was inside. He claims to be the last survivor of some ancient empire, from when this planet was a world of forests and oceans. He claims his was the most powerful archengine of that ancient empire's legions."
Your father blinks for a moment, opens his mouth, then seems to think some more. Then he grabs both you and Avagis in a hefty bear hug. "This is wonderful news!" He smiles broadly. "Our fortune is restored Miriea! The scholars wishing to talk to your new friend alone would make us rich and famous, with an intact archengine of such power as well. Nobody will dare to touch us. We are saved."
Something about the way he says that last has an immediacy and relief to it that you think he means more than the family's ailing fortune.
"Father, what do you mean?" You ask, suddenly, chillingly filled with suspicious. It's as if every move your father makes speaks of a great, overwhelming fear. A terror "What, what exactly did we need to be saved from?"
"Why, poverty, the fall of the house, our ill fortune of course. You know this my Dove." He smiles, trying to placate you. You do not allow yourself to be placated.
"Father, I was forthright with you and I'd appreciate a straight answer in return. What is happening in this house, with Balduino? Why did you act so shocked when you heard the Don had stayed? What is happening?"
"Mireia, nothing is happening. Come, how was your lunch with di Gano?"
He's trying to change the subject. You feel a sudden hot surge of anger in your chest and glare at him. "Father, if you don't respect me enough to tell me the truth, I shall simply leave." You turn on your heel but he puts a hand on your shoulder.
"Mireia, I…" You hear him take a deep breath. "Please sir, will you excuse my daughter and I?"
"Oh, of course." Avagis smiles, he walks outside, looking at the flowers.
"We made a deal with your fiancee." He looks down at the ground. "To take this planet together."
"To take the planet? How would you even do that?"
"Our family has many old friends here. If we were to back a new regime, so would most of the other minor houses. We were to wait for the Don was off world, and then
"Father… this is treason," You find, to your horror, you're considering this awful scheme seriously, as if you could ever go through with something so dishonourable. "Even if it worked, the Empire would send troops. They would never allow this world to be lost."
"di Gano had a way around that. He had off world allies. The coup was to be a signal for Gallian border princes- several of their Emperor's own children leading the charge. I've heard the Emperor himself may be here. Turns out there's more than just rusting metal lying around here."
"What do you mean? What is here?"
"That old ship you're so fond of, in the north. It has an intact Gate of Solomon, one without any extant connections. I don't know the specifics but your mother and di Gano discussed it at length. A hundred Gallian knights would have walked out without the interference of the defenses in orbit."
You think for a moment of Balduino, his determined expressions. His obvious ambition "We need to warn the Don."
"Mireia, my beautiful daughter- listen to you! Warn the Don? About what?"
"About the fact that Balduino is about to mount a coup against him perhaps? Do you really think that your refusal would mean anything? Can it really be Father, that you know him less after all these months than I do in an afternoon?"
Your words finally rouse him, and he gesturing angrily with his left hand as if he were sweeping the discussion away. "Balduino di Gano has nothing without us. The entire programme was of your mother's devising, the kind of occult science only an escudero of her quality could understand, let alone use."
If your father really thinks di Gano cannot penetrate mother's books when left alone in the house for hours on end, he really has lost his senses. More likely, he's just making excuses to deny what he must know "Father, he was here mere hours ago! Do you really think it's beyond him to come back in force?"
"We have Grifon! I have your Mother. And this archengine of yours..."
"A count's vassal knights will outnumber us, if he's so determined. Grifon is an old model and it was never a good one, not even in her heyday."
"...I." Your father's shoulders sag and buries his face in his hands briefly, exhaling into his palms before looking back at you sternly. "Daughter, I have had all of these thoughts and I've known what to expect now that our association with your husband-to-be has fallen through all along. I was deluding myself, thinking that it would all end because we stopped ourselves at the last moment. I am not proud of what's happened, nor of the decisions that have lead to it, but know this..."
"...that I am very proud to have you as my daughter."
"I'm proud to be your daughter, just the same." You extend your hand to your father, but he swiftly takes it and pulls you into an embrace, his arms around your back and your own drawn to his neck. His body is warm and slightly soft from age, but the familiar affection is comforting in this moment. Somehow, you find yourself remarking on his smallness, the mere inch of height that separates you and him.
"And please… he's hardly going to be my husband after all this." You sigh as he continues to hold you, feeling a pang of betrayal and disappointment welling in your chest. An ache of something that felt so sure of, being gone without ever having been there in the first place. An hour ago you imagined yourself falling in love and now you find yourself questioning if you can still love your own family.
The ground begins to shake. Technicians look up as dust drains down from the ceiling. Avagis looks back in. "Where you expecting visitors Lady? Because there are archengines on the horizon. Three of them, and a pair of other machines. Some form of automaton. Nice designs this era, all said."
You step to the door, your father with you. Five huge machines stalk towards the estate, in the lead is a vast lanky archengine, its paint black and gold, a long and billowing cloak flowing behind it as it walks, strides graceful and perfectly balanced. "That's the Murgleys. di Gano's machine." Your Father turns towards the Grifon. "I will go out and confront them."
"Father…"
What will you say to him?
[ ] "I love you."
[ ] "Let me go instead."
[ ] "Let me talk to him."
[ ] "Don't die."
[ ] "You shouldn't have done this."
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- Location
- The Hague
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] "Let me go instead."
Vindication!
Vindication!
Ridiculously Average Guy
I'm you, but stronger
- Location
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[x] "Let us go together."