“Sir,” the first sergeant said.
“Go,” Captain MacDonald said. “Diplomatically, please.”
“For values of diplomacy,” the first sergeant replied. “Miss Moon, I need your input. I’m reading the body language of the other armored figure as annoyance at the smaller one’s antics.”
“I agree, First Sergeant Powell,” Miriam said, grinning over the video link. “The younger one is acting a bit like, well, a headstrong young nobleman. And the larger would be either his father or a senior retainer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the first sergeant said. “That was my read as well. So. Two-Gun, can you get the sword away from that local? Without harming him?”
Lady Che-chee didn’t want to make the situation any worse by approaching. No matter how diplomatic you were about it, being approached by an armored Mother was intimidating. But she realized she was simply going to have to go over and stop the young idiot before he got someone killed.
Just as she was about to step off, one of the armored figures solved the situation for her. It reached over and first took Cha-chai’s wrist in its claw, firmly but not violently. It was apparent, however, from her son’s struggles that it was an immovable hold. Then the armored figure took away her son’s sword. He handed it to the leader, gently and carefully, then fumbled for a moment and removed her son’s helmet.
Afraid that he was going to kill her headstrong son, Lady Che-chee drew her sword and lifted into the air. But before she could even approach, the figure simply held the helmet in one hand and closed the hand, turning the helm of finest Mee-reean steel into a lump.
Then he handed the lump back, respectfully. The sword followed.
“Mother,” Cha-chai yelled, hovering his chak-chak. “I believe they wish to speak to you.”
Berg watched as one of the servants stepped over to the case and, after fumbling with the closure, looked inside. His chittering was unintelligible but he was definitely excited and Berg noticed him slip one of the gems into the belt that was his only clothing.
The gems were “real.” They were manufactured gemstones, virtually worthless on Earth but indistinguishable from the real thing. There were also some small bars of gold. Gems and gold might or might not have local value. They’d have to see.
The helmetless local swooped down and reached into the case, removing one of the sapphires. He looked over at Jaen and chittered something, tossing the gem in the air.
“Mother,” Cha-chai called. “I do believe my promotion is paid for. As are my gambling debts.”
“What?” Lady Che-chee said. “All of them? Bring it over here.”
Cha-chai and the gamesman brought the chest over and she looked in it and nodded.
“Tribute,” she said. “But for what? Ruining my lawn? Or the endless trouble their presence is going to cause? Surely not to prevent us attacking them. Nothing we own could damage that ship; even rocks from a trebuchet would do nought much more than dent it.”
Two more of the suits of armor were descending in the glass room. How any glass, though, could support the weight of those suits was beyond her. However, they stepped out and walked over, passing the threesome who then redeployed to either side and slightly back. Bodyguards, then. She supposed it was wise to send guards first in a situation where you knew nothing of the locals. She could overlook the insult and it was not as if they were even beginning to treat with each other. Sumar knows she had done enough reconnaissance of enemy positions in her time.
The two new suits, which were colored a sky blue with a black dome on top, stopped a few paces from her. Then she got the shock of her life as the suits opened up along an nearly invisible seam and two of the occupants stepped out, causing a great shout amongst her retainers.
She, everyone, had been expecting Cheerick. But they were not! Except upon the head of one they were furless. Shiny black bodies, like sgraga that caught in the fur! No, those were clothes. Close fitting and showing odd lumps like large pustules on the chest of the smaller one! Their legs moved oddly. Their faces were so flat! They were revolting!
But she quelled her urge to vomit at the sight as the larger, nearly furless, one turned to the rear of the armor and began removing gear. She had thought it might be more presents, but it was not. A cuirass of some strange gray metal, a helmet of same, a harness. She caught a glimpse of ropy scars as the clothing moved aside. A warrior. So who was the smaller?
When the warrior was properly armed, the smaller came forward and made a strange arm movement. It was similar to one the island tribes used, a sign of parley.
“Lady Che-chee,” the smaller one said, her small nose twitching. “Know language not. Learn must.”
“You are the interpreter,” Lady Che-chee said, her ears twitching in agreement. “I would speak with your mistress.”
“Would speak…” The interpreter paused. “Understanding not.” The rest was an unintelligible squeak that had, yes, the lilt of the islands.
“I would speak to your leader,” Lady Che-chee said. “I would speak to your lord. I would speak to your master. I would speak to your mistress.”
“Lady Che-chee speak master,” the interpreter said, pointing to her head. “Master speak, I speak.”
“She has a demon in her!” Cha-chai shouted.
“Silence!” Lady Che-chee shouted. “You will not shame me by this display. All but my armsmen, return to your duties!
“Now, interpreter, what is your name?” Lady Che-chee asked.
“Miriam, Lady Che-chee.”
“Mrn-mreem,” Lady Che-chee said. “Your master here.”
“Master there,” Miriam said, pointing at the ship. “Speak me, speak him.”
“Why will he not come out and treat with us properly?” Cha-chai said angrily.
“Not know say,” Miriam said. “Master ship. Not come out.”
“I will not treat with an inferior,” Lady Che-chee said bluntly. “Get your ship off my lawn.”
“Wait,” Miriam said, holding her hand to her head. “Wait.”
“She refuses to talk to me,” Miriam said. “Very proper, seems to know what she’s doing, she’s negotiated before. But she’s unwilling to talk to an inferior. Probably because she’s negotiated before.”
“Try to get more language,” the CO said, looking around at the command staff. “Try to explain that I cannot exit the ship. I don’t even have a Wyvern, which is something that needs to be changed. Tell her that I will send a senior deputy.”
“I guess I’d better go get my Wyvern on,” Weaver said, standing up.
“Captain MacDonald, you go, too,” Spectre said. “Take Top as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lady Che-chee,” Miriam said. “Talk others? Language learn? Explain?”
“I will permit that,” she said, looking at her son. “Cha-chai… No. Sreen!”
“Madame?” the footman said imperturbably. As long as it wasn’t Demons, he was fine.
“Talk with this one,” she said imperiously. “And bring me a drink and a chair. I’m getting too old to stand around in armor all day. A solid chair.”
“So far, so good,” Jaen said. “Okay, let’s get 360 security here.”
“Got it,” Berg said, turning in position. “The only major emissions are from those flying board things and the ship. Nice place. I’d love to swim in that lake.”
“Probably got crabpus in it,” Hatt said. “How’s the pow-wow going?”
“Looks okay,” Jaen said. “I can almost follow the pantomime. That Miss Moon’s some actress.”