Space Oddity

[Brian]

"I shouldn't say," Westley says, stiffly.  The ornithopter appears to be flashing messages of its own to the foundry that the Starflare comes about and dives towards -- if slowly.  The foundry quickly becomes clear from the rest of the city -- it's surrounded by empty fields crossed only by roads and railroad tracks.  It looks like the 'moat' of deserted land is about a kilometer wide, though the foundry and docking facilities are far larger ... probably the size of a small city.  Numerous other aircraft are all either landing or clearing out of the way.

"Those messages?" Vega asks furrowing his brows.

"New codes, Captain," the crewman manning the mirrors says, shaking his head.  "I haven't the foggiest."

Vega grunts, then rotates his chair to face Phil, Bjorn, Tom, and Westley.  Quincy is simply goggling at everything, awestruck by the visuals.  "Westley," he says, somewhat crossly, "when we land, as the leader of this expedition, you're going to need to make a full report.  I expect you'll also want to be the one speaking with Aliester.  I recall you were closer friends than I ever was with him.  Regardless of what you think of me, my first duty is to the king, and my second, to my ship.  Your mission has only ever been third to me, and I'm sorry that it has to be said now."

Westley gives a curt nod.  "I understand," he says.  "So then, this landing is not my responsibility."

"That would be the end of it, yes," Vega says, somewhat sardonically.  "All the same, I don't expect to leave the ship, until the ship is capable of leaving, if you take my meaning."

"With integrity," Westley replies, the stiffness fading.  "If that's how it's to be, then I hope to work with you again.  Until then, I admit, I had a fine time journeying with you."  He pauses, as the foundry grows closer.  Only a few more minutes, now.  Bjorn reckons that he'll be able to speak without the entire world eavesdropping by the time they make landing.  "I'll leave my liquor here.  Unless I find they've stopped making it, consider it yours."

Vega snorts, giving a fierce grin before he wheels his chair around.

Westley shakes his head, turning to face the inter-dimensional wanderers.  "If you'll come with me?" he says, back to his irritatingly cheerful disposition.

[Dracos]

"I believe it would be for the best, though caution sounds like the order of the day," his eyes drifted to Quincy speaking calmly but hoping his message of the importance of being careful came across to the young man.  "We didn't bring anything we're not carrying, so we're ready to depart whenever you are."

Dracos

[Carthrat]

"'swhat I've been saying for the past *three days*," mutters Tom, rolling his eyes, watching the ornithopter curiously.

[Brian]

The ornithopter pulls ahead, vanishing from sight into the distant foundry.  Westley takes everyone to the boarding ramp, though everyone remains behind a railing until the ship comes to a rest, lurching a bit as it does so.  There's no sound of anchors dropping, this time, but the ramp descends smoothly.  At least that wasn't damaged.

When it does, fresh air and daylight reach in through the opening.  The air smells faintly of metal and heat, along with the other smells one associates with a city.  Westley takes a deep breath and grins.  "Ah," he says, shaking his head.  "Home!"

And with that, he strolls gamely down the walkway.

[Carthrat]

Tom looks a little pained (and a bit jealous), but follows after Westley, putting aside his emotional response and doing his best to look confident! And it's hard to not look confident when you're as tanky as he is right now.

[Dracos]

Dracos spends his time taking in the scenary and trying to get a grasp of what kind of civilization they were in.  Obviously quite advanced in many ways  He looked around the foundary, eying it for signs of smog or rust, amazed at the air being nice and clean here.  A good sign for the most part if they really managed such without poluting their own sphere.

Dracos

[Brian]

The air is very clean, for a Victorian-era city, if Phil goes by surface appearances.  And the work area is also apparently scrupulously well maintained.  The tech that these people have must rely on a different source of energy ... Phil vaguely seems to recall something about drawing energy from the Shroud?

Either way, his studies are distracted by a handful of simultaneous factors.  The ornithopter that was glanced at in passing is at one end of the bay, and marching from it in a beeline are Nathan, a man in some swank looking robes with a huge golden medalion, and someone who seems to be dressed up like Sherlock Holmes.  On either side of them, standing in neat rows, are two groups of fully armed soldiers.  They appear to be carrying rifles, but their clips are clear cylinders filled with what looks barely-contained lightning.

The man in robes clears his throat, and then his voice fills the entire bay.  "I am Aliester Sondheim, Lord High Anabarist to His Majesty, and Special Minister to the King.  I wish to present Inspector Holmes," not just a look-a-like, then, "and his advisor, Nathan Shuker.  Welcome home, Starflare."

A distant cheer echoes from within the ship -- probably the crew.  A moment later, hatches across the ship explode open, and crew begin crawling out across the decks, many of them with tools in hand.  After pausing to ascertain that the men are setting about to repair the ship, and not attack, the guards all pivot and turn to face the ship, saluting sharply.

Westley returns the salute, holding it while he barks out:  "Colonel Westley Riggins, reporting, your eminence!"

"At ease," Aliester returns.  "It appears your mission was successful, if delayed.  I expect a full report; you and your companions are invited to stay as guests at the palace."  With that, he whirls (an impressive display in those bright, flashing robes), and marches right back into the ornithopter.

[Carthrat]

"Hello, Inspector. Mr. Shuker," greets Tom, giving Nathan a hard, hard stare.

[Rezantis]

Nathan either ignores the stare or is oblivious, one or the other.

"Hello," he responds blithely before turning his attention to Bjorn.

"Bjorn," Nathan then says, inclining his head politely to the short one, "it's good to see you again.  It looks like you have quite the story.  Will you introduce your friends?"

[Bjorn]

"Mr. Shuker," Bjorn blithely replies.  "May I introduce to you Philip Bloom, formerly of the Church of the Gates, and Tom Rhys-Lee, of Anabara, converted to a Thrall by the Church.  Behind Mr. Bloom is Quincy, also of the Church.  The rest of these gentlemen, I'm sure, can be better introduced by their friends and superiors here."

He pauses, and sketches a brief bow.  "I should warn you, I'm afraid, that I am not entirely the Bjorn Christianson you have met previously in your voyages to Greenmeadows.  I do hope, however, that you will extend to me the same friendship that you extended to him."

OOC: IC I know the name of the sphere that the plainspeople live in, but I've forgotten it OOC, it's not in the wiki, and I don't have time at the moment to hunt through the forums to find the reference.  If someone wants to remind me, I'll fix it.

[Brian]

"Fascinating," Holmes says, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scans the group.  "Well, let us continue this discussion in a more appropriate setting.  Please, this way to the ornithopter."  He gestures to he vehicle that Aliester is already climbing back into.

OOC: Windhurst, perhaps?  It must not have been a priority item for me; it's not in my notes.

[Carthrat]

Tom supresses a chuckle at Bjorn's words, and makes way to the ornithopter (hoping it's not too cramped.)

[Brian]

The vehicle seats twenty comfortably, not including the pilots up front.  Aliester's chair has been turned backwards, so he can face everyone else.  Experimentation shows that there are levers to adjust the seat's facing.  The adjustable belts can be cinched down to fit someone as small as Bjorn, or expanded to fit someone as burly as Tom, without too much trouble.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn slides into a seat and straps himself in, nodding at Homes and Sondeim.  "Where are we off to, then?"

At the same time, he sends his mind out through the Dream.  Four of the five are together: time to start hunting for the fifth.

OOC: One-person mindlink to Hal, over in the other thread.

[Dracos]

Straps himself in easily enough, allowing curiousity to show clearly on his face, even if Bjorn beat him to the question.

Dracos