A day in the life of a rat.

["Amit Sabnis" <Sabnis_amit@worldnet.att.net>]

Enjoy. =]

Amethyst Suite -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain)

        Like the adjacent room, the floors and walls of this spacious suite
are made of flawless marble. The pale stone is shot through with veins of
glittering amethyst, the delicate lines running vertically up the walls to
the domed ceiling. High arched windows are hung with lavender velvet
curtains, their folds held back with cream coloured braided cords. The
blankets and numerous pillows of an expansive bed, bordered head and foot
with brass rails, match the colour of the curtains.
        A large stone-fronted fireplace is set into one wall, the rough grey
surface the only break in the flowing expanse of marble. Before the
fireplace a coffee table and several chairs are set, the chairs' upholstery
a deep violet. Beneath the furniture an intricately woven rug of Persian
persuasion lies.
        High above, on the domed roof a mosaic has been laid. Fading from
azure to obsidian, the night sky has been rendered in glittering tesserae.
Tiny pinpoints of diamonds and hagal quartz are the stars of the celestial
heavens, laid out in the constellations of the winter and summer skies.

Players:
 Tat'iana
Exits:
 Elacca Door <BA> leads to Amethyst Suite Bathroom -- Imperial Palace
(Kaitain)
 Elacca Door <SR> leads to Marble Suite Sitting Room -- Imperial Palace
(Kaitain)

A fire crackles slowly in the fireplace, less for warmth than anything else.
The lights of the room are low, but not too dim. In one of the large
wing-back chairs by the fireplace, Tat'iana has curled up, legs tucked under
her. A book is open on her lap, but, she pays it no mind. Her gaze, instead,
rests on the flames in the fireplace, though her thoughts are in a place
obviously so much further away. Next to her, on an endtable, is a cup of
tea - virtually untouched. Its contents, surely, are cold by now - the
tell-tale ring around the inside of the cup gives its age away.
Tat'iana discretely looks you over.

A polite knock on the Elacca door announces the presence of a visitor, and
but a moment later, Satyavrat cracks the portal open and sticks his head
through. At first not seeing anyone at all, he cautiously opens the door
fully and steps through the doorway, his boots faintly clomping onto the
delicate marble underfoot. He freezes, then, a fold in the shadows giving
away Tat'iana's presence. His expression is inscrutible, arm wrapped firmly
about his waist, slight dimples at his cheeks indicating that his teeth bite
down on them. He holds there, waiting for a response.

Tat'iana looks up as she hears footsteps, flinching fearfully at who it
might be. But she stops, and her eyes widen, a gasp catching in her throat.
"Lord Devhapti!" she breathes, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Was...
was I so easy to find then? Who else knows I am here?" The questions come
out in a rush, after the initial hesitation, her voice barely above a
whisper.

Satyavrat shuts the door behind him with a quiet click of it's locking
mechanism into the clasp as he composes his answer. He looks to the floor,
swallows, then looks up. "My Lady...it required an expensive uniform and a
chance audience with the Emperor himself. I assure you that this was not an
easy task." Even as he says the word, he looks at his uniform as one might
look at a rusty tool; serviceable, certainly...but not exactly a choice
implement. "No one knows that I am here, let alone you; and it shall remain
that way, lest you charge me to speak to anyone. You are a Noble Lady of the
House Rastanyev; I am yours to command...for now."

Her nod is brief, and nearly imperceptable. A hand then sneaks out from
where she has tucked it around her side, and Tat'iana gestures to a chair
across from her. Though she does not smile, her relief is evident in her
voice. "Then you must carry a message to my brother. I have prayed for some
way for me to reach him... now I have a way." She falls silent, waiting for
her guest to be seated, before she speaks of the message, or her reasons for
being where she is.
Satyavrat composes his features and takes a seat, brushing dust, suddenly
aglow near the fire, from the painfully well-pressed slacks of his House
uniform. He hesitates, perhaps about to say something more, but instead the
dimples on his cheeks deepen. "Speak, my lady," he says, his quiet tones
hushed by the crackling voice of the fire.

Tat'iana's expression remains solemn, even grim, as she watches Satyavrat
seat himself in the chair. "There is danger within the embassy walls. My
brother, especially, is now in danger. It is imperative, Satyavrat, that you
speak to him of this somewhere outside those walls. They have ears. And
eyes. Nothing is private there."

"Mentats," Satyavrat says, and he whispers it like a curse that not even a
degenerate gutter-dweller would use to damn his worst enemies. He nods
quickly. "I understand the threat, my Lady. The Earl will speak with me in
the Landsraad Council Chambers, or in the Imperial Conservatory perhaps."

Tat'iana nods, then leans her head back in her chair, her eyes slipping
closed. "Master Galperin.. there is someting amiss. He's.. irrational. He...
he assaulted me." She leaves the statement hanging, and her eyes remain
closed so as to not have to see the Reeve's expression.

The Reeve's expression, as it were, only hardens by a fraction of an inch,
his features perhaps coming into stiffer definition by the flickering light
of the fireplace. He makes no other moves, however; perhaps he'd already
reached his own conclusions. Delicately, he poses his question: "Does my
Lady wish the Earl to know...the extent of this assault?"
"My purity is still intact," Tat'iana remarks, her tone full of bitter
loathing for the Mentat, and her eyes slide open marginally. "But only
barely. I will be seeking his punishment, mark my words. But not his
death... death would be too merciful to him."

The bitterness in Tat'iana's voice gives Satyavrat pause, as if placing his
own ire into perspective. Whatever wrong the mentat has done to him is far
outweighed by his injustices to the Bajazet girl, or even the Lady Rastanyev
herself! His features flicker, the minutae of his internal conflict blown
out of proportion by long shadows cast by the fire. His mental gymnastics
cease and he steels himself away from any further such thoughts. "What else
should the Earl know?" he asks in a voice whose frigidness shocks even him.

Tat'iana's eyes follow the expressions flitting across the Reeve's face from
beneath her lowered lashes. "The Mentat," she says carefully, "seems to
think it is he who runs House Rastanyev, not, as he put it, my 'simpering
brother.'"

Satyavrat pushes further back into his chair as he considers this bit of
news. He sighs slowly, letting out his breath in a prolonged hiss. "I will
inform the Earl," he says slowly. "And I will advise caution and speed in
taking action. Mentats are difficult to stay ahead of; I would not be
surprised if one or two of his henchmen followed me to the Palace."

Tat'iana shakes her head, then sighs. "None of the palace servants saw me
enter. I have only spoken to the Justiciar... Perhaps the Emperor has
received his report then. But I will not be leaving here any time soon.
There are too many guards about, he couldn't do anything to me here."

Satyavrat nods sharply. "Of course. I wouldn't recommend leaving...for quite
a while. Perhaps not until you are married." The matter is gleaned over, but
Satyavrat watches you carefully to see if you've any immediate reaction to
his words. "The Emperor himself has asked that I report to him as to the
reasons for your presence here. That in itself may well make the difference;
perhaps our mentat will meet with Sardaukar before I even speak with the
Earl."

You hear a knocking coming from the Marble Suite Sitting Room -- Imperial
Palace (Kaitain).

Tat'iana nods briefly, "Then I will tell the Emperor how I wish to see him
punished. I have... thought about it." Her gaze returns to the fireplace,
but then, she looks up as she hears the knock.

Satyavrat turns sharply to the doorway. He looks back at Tat'iana with
caution in his eyes. "Should I, my Lady?" he whispers.

Tat'iana nods, "Yes, please.."

Satyavrat shouts, "Who's there?"

From Marble Suite Sitting Room -- Imperial Palace (Kaitain), a masculine
voice shouts, "His Majesty, the Emperor."

Satyavrat raises an eyebrow and turns to Tat'iana with a sly smile. "Shall I
let the Padishah in, my Lady?" he asks quietly.

Tat'iana scarcely nods, her eyes widening in surprise.

Satyavrat rises and crosses to the door, opening it for the Emperor.

After politely knocking, a consideration the Emperor shows to few and far
between, Erich enters the suite as the door is opened, for once alone,
devoid of his Noukker guards.

Directly next to the doorway as he arrives, Satyavrat quickly dips into a
bow as the Emperor enters the Suite. "Lady Rastanyev," he says in a neutral
speaking voice, "His Majesty, the Padishah Emperor."

Having been curled up in a chair pulled near the fireplace, Tat'iana unfolds
her legs and pushes herself to her feet. She drops into a curtsey, her head
bowed low. "Majesty," she murmurs, "Good evening."
Erich casts a deep, concerned frown as he nears the Lady Rastanyev, taking
her hand into his in gentle chivalry. "M'lady ... I returned today from a
brief inspection of Salusa Secundus to the rather surprising news that you
are lodging with us here in the palace now. I trust ... everything is
alright?"

Satyavrat remains stony-faced by the doorway, his gaze suddenly focusing
outwards, beyond the far wall.

Tat'iana glances briefly towards Satyavrat, then turns her attention towards
the Emperor. Silence hangs a moment, while she considers how to answer his
query. No warm smile brightens her face, and slowly, she nods. "I am alive.
I suppose... everything is as right as it may be, given the circumstances."

Erich cocks his head to one side, mustering an encouraging smile as he
inquires, "And what are the circumstances? Things must not be entirely
right, for you to have left the safety of your embassy, m'lady."

Satyavrat's face slips into a broad grin at the mention of the 'safety' of
the Rastanyev Embassy. Still, his eyes remain locked in their positions,
content to survey the room's occupants only when they drift into his field
of view. He leans slowly on the door, letting it shut behind the Emperor
with a soft click.

Tat'iana's jaw clenches, and she fights again at a tide of rising anger.
"Safety, Majesty? There is no where within that embassy that is safe, so
long as Master Galperin is within its walls as the house Mentat. He dared to
assault me, and place his hands on me in ways too vulgar for me to
describe.. "

Erich is not a man known for having an exceedingly mild temper, his green
eyes turning stormy and smoldering at the mention of an 'assault' and the
vulgarities which accompanied it, his jaw clenching in anger as he spares a
glance towards the door, perhaps considering an order to have his Sardaukar
draw and quarter the man post haste. "Are you ... harmed?" he inquires as
delicately as possible given the circumstances.

Tat'iana shakes her head quickly, then swallows, as though a lump had formed
in her throat. "No... Bruised. Shaken. But otherwise, I am alright. He
indicated that the next time, I would not be so fortunate... he would ensure
that I was unfit for..." Her voice trails off, and she turns her face away,
even turning bodily to face the fireplace, as she sighs deeply.

Erich assures stolidly, "There shall not /be/ a next time."

"If I may be so bold, my Lady," Satyavrat interrupts, his attention having
been quickly redirected to the here and now whilst no one was watching, "The
Earl may not believe what I tell him. And even if he does, his highest
Cossacks report on occasion to the mentat. As my Lady said...there is no
security in House Rastanyev." He nods at the Emperor as respectfully as
possible. "Now is not the time for my Lady to hold her tongue. You did say
that you had 'thought' about the matter," he reminds her.

Tat'iana lifts her arms to cross them across her chest, hugging herself
tightly. "My brother has no reason to think me a liar," Tat'iana turns
towards Satyavrat, her voice growing chilly. "Tell him to seek me here,
then, if he questions you. I personally would like to see Master Galperin
admit to what he has done, to Mikhail's face. Perhaps even some of his own
methods used on him."

Erich shoots a cursory glance over Tat'iana's form, perhaps wanting to
confirm for himself that she is unharmed. His furrowed brow deepens further
as he notices, "You seem to have lost your brooch, m'lady. That one you
always wear."

Satyavrat remains silent at the Lady's verbal barrage, letting Erich's
question take her attention for now. His frown deepens as Erich mentions the
missing brooch; troubled, perhaps, that he did not note the missing trinket
even though he was told of it by the mentat himself.

"It was left in the Mentat's office," Tat'iana replies, a hand drifting over
the area where the pin would have been.
Erich rather strangely brightens at this news, hand going to the inside of
his tunic to withdraw a long, black velvet box which he offers the forlorn
lady. "Well enough, I imagine. Will give you more room to wear this, Anya."

"There was a tracking device, behind it," Tat'iana starts to explain, then
looks over at the black velvet box being offered her. She blinks, surprised,
then reaches for it. "What's this?" she asks, her eyes lifting to the
Emperor's face.

Erich waits expectantly, the Emperor's eyes full of bemusement as he awaits
sign of whether his gift is approved of or not.

Tat'iana opens the box, the sight of the necklace making her sway on her
feet. She reaches a hand out to the chair she had occupied before, steadying
herself. Her mouth falls open, but she closes it quickly, and glances over
to the Emperor with eyes still wide. "Oh, Erich.. it's.. I'm.. floored..."
Obviously. She glances back down to the box in her hand, and pulls it out to
hold it up, letting the firelight catch it. And as she does so, the
inscription catches her eye. Freezing, she reads it in a quiet voice, which
trembles with emotion.

Erich smiles in pride and relief, chuckling as he notes, "I'm glad you like
it. It would be a bit difficult to return."

Tat'iana does actually smile then, her troubles leaving her face. Holding
the necklace out in her hand towards the Emperor, she asks, "Would you do
the honors then?"

Satyavrat turns his face away, looking once more at the distant wall of the
Suite. A faint reddening of his cheeks is visible, but his expression is
otherwise stoically unaltered. Taking lessons from Harkonnen guards,
perhaps.

Erich needs no more encouragement than that, moving to stand behind
Tat'iana, reaching forward to with careful grasp take the necklace, letting
his hands circle back round her slender neck to clasp it there, hurriedly
moving back round to see its effect.

Tat'iana reaches up to touch the necklace with her fingertips, her smile
brightening. Peering just beyond the Emperor, for a moment, she suddenly
remembers that Satyavrat still remains. "Lord Devhapti," she addresses him,
"See that my brother gets my message as soon as possible. But tell no one
else I am here. Please. Not until Master Galperin is safely in custody. I am
glad you came..." The statement, clearly, is a dismissal.

Satyavrat nods solemnly at the Lady's dismissal. "Of course, my Lady," he
says stiffly, the flush from his cheeks slowly leaving. "I...perhaps I'll
see you when you return," he says quickly, bowing to the Emperor before
letting himself out of the room. The door shuts behind him with a jolt
that's just a shade too loud for someone so used to subtlety.

You leave for the sitting room.

[later that day...]

Kaitain Taxi

Although clean, the interior is sparse and utilitarian. The seats are made
of a thick, stiff leather-like material, durable but not necessarily
comfortable. A clear divider seperates the passenger compartment from the
driver, a small metal screen in the middle provides a way for communication.

The driver nods.

There is a sense of acceleration as the taxi picks up speed.
The taxi decelerates steadily and comes to a smooth stop.
Central Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
The boulevard opens to a large square. Tall trees, spaced evenly about the
square, open in spots to allow view of well-guarded gates, showing peeks of
the wealth behind them. At the center of the square is a statue of Jehanne
Butler, brandishing a sword as she rides on her horse through a fountain.
The boulevard runs parallel to the southeast shore of Lake Corrin.
Objects:
 Kaitain Taxi
Exits:
 Stairway <D> leads to Subway Station -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Council Row <SW> leads to Sheuset Square -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Council Row <NE> leads to Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)

You walk along the Council Row.

Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
The tree-lined boulevard that runs parallel to the lake opens into a plaza.
Several gates, leading into the lavish embassies, open inwards to face a
marble statue of Muetana Sarobella who stands silently looking down at the
people who pass her.
Players:
 Raschid [in disguise]

Exits:
 Carved Gate <E> leads to Reception Court -- Bajazet Embassy (Kaitain)
 Gateway <W> leads to Courtyard -- Ginaz Embassy (Kaitain)
 Iron Gates <N> leads to Gateway -- Venhei Embassy (Kaitain)
 Slidewalk <S> leads to Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
 Rue Cenva <SW> leads to Central Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)


One of the many passers-by in the area, Satyavrat Devhapti, Reeve Rastanyev,
walks with slow footsteps into the plaza, eyes turned towards the lake. His
uniform shed, his expression empty, he does not appear to be a happy man.
But for now, that doesn't matter. He's watching the water.

After several moments of contemplation, Satyavrat's eyes turn southwards to
the Harkonnen Embassy. He stares at it for a while, at the cultured plants
lining the slidewalk. He squints, as if waiting for someone to appear; no
one does. He shakes his head and his right hand plays with the tiny copper
fish hanging from his ear. He turns and walks back to out of the plaza,
leaving the lake and the Lady Sarobella, needle cupped between her fingers,
behind.

You pass the Rue Cenva.

Central Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
The boulevard opens to a large square. Tall trees, spaced evenly about the
square, open in spots to allow view of well-guarded gates, showing peeks of
the wealth behind them. At the center of the square is a statue of Jehanne
Butler, brandishing a sword as she rides on her horse through a fountain.
The boulevard runs parallel to the southeast shore of Lake Corrin.
Exits:
 Stairway <D> leads to Subway Station -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Council Row <SW> leads to Sheuset Square -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Council Row <NE> leads to Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
You request a taxi over your communicator.
A Kaitain Taxi pulls up near Satyavrat.

Kaitain Taxi
Although clean, the interior is sparse and utilitarian. The seats are made
of a thick, stiff leather-like material, durable but not necessarily
comfortable. A clear divider seperates the passenger compartment from the
driver, a small metal screen in the middle provides a way for communication.

The driver nods.
There is a sense of acceleration as the taxi picks up speed.
The taxi decelerates steadily and comes to a smooth stop.

Main Terminal -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)

     A wide patio surrounded by a polished brass railing commands a view of
the entire city, but rising up behind, set up atop this high plateau, is a
view to take the breath away. It is an enormous pyramid of gold-tinted
glass. The square bottom of the Guild Spaceport's Main Terminal rests upon a
black onyx base, its edges overhanging to form wide eaves, and sliding
double doors allow entry into the shining jewel of a starport. At night,
glowglobes illuminate from inside, making each of the four sloping triangles
shimmer with a golden light. During the day, the sun reflects off the tinted
glass. From locations about the city, the glimmering light from this
leviathan can be seen like a beacon. Rumors say it is the one man-made
object on Kaitain that can be seen from space.

Objects:
 Kaitain Taxi                                       Mirror
 Spacing Guild Guardsman
Exits:
 Mall <W> leads to Mall - Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)
 Boarding Passage <SP> leads to Guild Heighliner (Space)
 Elevator <D> leads to Subway Station -- Spaceport (Kaitain)

You pass the Mall.

Mall - Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)

     Polished black onyx covers the expansive floor and low walls of the
spaceport interior, the rest is gleaming plasteel supports and gold-tinted
glass sloping inward on four sides hundreds of meters to a point where a
model of the Known Universe hovers effortlessly, a crystal sphere lit with
tiny glowglobes in clusters of constellation-like patterns.
     The Mall is an indoor patio with fountains and potted plants. Shops and
eateries line the way. At the far end are the Guild offices and cargo
check-points. Armed guards of one sort or another are always found within
the spaceport, and security is enhanced by surveillance equipment and
scanners. A soft, homogenized music plays in the background and solido
projections at convenient locations display arrival and departure times.

Exits:
 Revolving Door <W> leads to Club Modulee -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)
 Main Terminal <E> leads to Main Terminal -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)

You walk through the Revolving Door.

Club Modulee -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)(#1533RVtJ)
A smoke-filled, crowded chamber, bustling with the folk from a hundred
worlds at all hours of the day and night. Most people talk, sing, chatter
raucously, drink with glee; some take their pleasures in gloomy silence. The
metal walls of the room contain and echo back the clamour. The beams and
bulkheads give the room a sturdy appearance, as if the place were built to
withstand great stresses. Along the west wall is a long, semi-circular bar.
Piercing the roof is a broad circular skylight of metaglass, showing a
dramatic view of the sky overhead. Scattered glowglobes illuminate the
tables and booths throughout the barroom in pools of light.

 In the corner of the room, a baliset trio plays noisily.
Players:
 Sylvie                                             Fahahd
Exits:
 Revolving Doors <E> leads to Mall - Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)
<Newbie> Sorcia has connected.
<Public> Sorcia has connected.

Sylvie laughs at something Fahahd says, though it's without humor, and she
picks up the second of two shot glasses in front of her and drinks the clear
liquid down.

The Harkonnen soldier stiffens for a moment, as if Sylvie's offhand comment
had gone home. He mutters something tersely.
Sylvie discretely looks you over.

The doors leading into the Modulee spin once more, admitting a man bearing a
coarse-looking cigarette in one hand and a book of matches in the other.
Copper at his ears glints in the hazy room, and he stops no more than five
steps into the room, looking about for anyone he might recognize and to
light his smoke. Taking a long drag, he walks to the bar and takes a seat
directly next to the Lady Sylvie de Biencourt, smiling through the cigarette
at his teeth. "Am I interrupting, Lady?" The question is out of place and
almost manic in its tones.

Fahahd takes another hearty swallow from the shot of crystalline liquor that
he's cradling awkwardly in one hand. As Satya approaches, he shrinks back a
little, watching the newcomer with cloudy green eyes.

Sylvie blinks in surprise to see Satyavrat in the spaceport bar, but grins
and says, "Not at all...do you know Sergeant Alaurans...oh, rats, no...he's
been promoted to something else."

Fahahd murmurs, sotto voce, "Leutnant, my lady."

"Lieutenant Alaurans," Satyavrat says heartily extending first his hand with
cigarette, then placing the cigarette back in his teeth and extending it
again. "My distinct pleasure to truly meet you for the first time. I'm sure
you've glowered at me before," he says with a grin. "How does the evening
find you?" He stares at you, two stray locks of his black hair falling into
the corner of his vision.

Sylvie beckons over the bartender, saying, "We're matching shots, but Fahahd
has a headstart on me, so I'm trying to catch up...how many do I have to
go?" She doesn't wait for the answer before ordering two more of the strong
vodka.

"Glowered at you, my lord? i'm sure I wouldn't dare," the guard replies,
deadpan. But he does accept the offered hand in his own callused palm and
shake it firmly. "But it is an honor to be sure," he murmurs, "And the
evening finds me well enough.." And drunk enough, by the little row of
upended shots that stand like a rank of glassy soldiers before him.

Satyavrat grins even more strongly at Sylvie's demands to the bartender. "Is
it too late for me to join in this round?" he asks, mockingly hurt. "I've
come to a rather difficult conclusion, you see," he confides to Sylvie in a
quiet voice, leaning closer to speak to her, "And I'm quite positive that
this is the best way to deal with it."

Sylvie signals to the bartender to add another two shots to the order,
bringing it to four, then looks to Fahahd and decides to make it six, "What
conclusion have you come to, My Lord?"

With a practiced motion, the guard knocks back the rest of his shot and
places it mouth down upon the bar next to its compatriots. There, seven.
silent and smoke-footed as a genie from a child's tale, a bartender appears
with three more of the shots. Looking closely, he bears an odd resemblance
to the Guard. The guard, for his part, looks at Satya sidelong from under
long lashes.

Satyavrat shakes his head. "Not yet," he says, taking a long drag from his
cigarette. He exhales, sending the smoke in spinning eddies about the room,
and probably into an unwelcoming eye or two. "Can't talk about it yet. Might
tip me over a bit more, you see," he confides, leaning close once again. His
breath smells not unpleasantly of sweetened tobacco, and it is hot even by
the standards of the room. "So. Do I drink with you, or alone? Either will
do."

Sylvie slides one of the shot glasses in Satyavrat's direction, "With."

Sylvie says, "We were just talking about jealousy in all it's forms, if
you've got a story to share."

Idly twirling his newly arrived shot carefully enough that the liquor within
doesn't spill, the Leutnant nods gently. He's acquired an abstracted
expression again...in the smoky dimness of the room, it's oddly reminiscent
of an oracle in the confines of her cave.

Satyavrat takes the glass in his left hand and pulls the cigarette from his
mouth with his right. Raising the glass high, he manages a barely audible,
"Here here," before tipping back the glass and swallowing convulsively, not
moving his head a fraction of a centimeter. The glass touches the bar with a
loud 'clink,' and the cigarette is quickly between his lips again.
"Jealousy?" he says between puffs. "Jealousy...well, I've seen a few people
get jealous. One threatened to tear someone's 'blackened heart out,' or some
such thing. Not terribly exciting, as she would hardly go through with it,
you see," he explains, blinking back a sudden rush as the vodka starts
working. "Any worthy recounts that I've missed?" he asks, tapping
impatiently on the bar for another shot to fill his empty glass with.

The green-eyed bartender obediently pours out another measure of the Giedi
vodka, which seems to be the poison of choice this evening.

Sylvie grins, "Well...see Fahahd's ear? He has not just one, but /two/
mistresses and various other lovers. Seems one of them has taken
exception...what do you think he should do about it?"

Satyavrat's eyebrows rise in surprise as he leans back, second drink in
hand. He pulls out his cigarette and takes the shot, letting the glass down
more quietly this time, thoughtfully puffing away. "Do you value one above
the other, Leutnant?" he asks, leaning forward to hear the man's answer
above the din.
Sylvie tosses back her third shot and sets the glass down, starting her own
little row of up-ended soldiers with a giggle.

Fahahd looks utterly, profoundly embarassed. His stint of service in the
Baronial court hasn't yet entirely stripped away the remainder of his
peasant's prudery. After goggling at Sylvie like an offended grog for a
moment, he coughs softly. "I..no...I'm not sure how to explain it, my lord."

Satyavrat sets his third glass on top of the two before it, forming a little
pyramid of crystal. He smiles at it approvingly before turning back to
Fahahd. "Endeavour," he suggests with a smile. "I'm sure you can find the
words, and then it's merely a matter of putting them into the right order,
after all."

Raschid walks in from Mall - Guild Spaceport through the Revolving Door.
Raschid has arrived.

Sylvie asks the bartender for another drink and leans against the bar. With
a grin she points to Satyavrat's cigarette, "Mind if I try that?"

A young noble walks in, a small piece of luggage in hand glancing about in
complete awe at his surroundings.

Satyavrat smiles warmly and takes another drag. "Kill it," he suggests,
handing the cigarette to her and fumbling in his pockets for a second. After
a moment, he gives up and takes a fourth drink, setting it into position to
further build his little zigurrat. Thereafter, he renews his attempts and
succedes, withdrawing a thin cylinder from the green packet in his pocket.

Sylvie brings the cigarette to her lips, holding it in the awkward manner of
a non-smoker, and takes a small puff off it, blinking against the smoke and
coughing a little. She smiles and nods, "Nice...." then notices the newcomer
and has to hide her face or let the nobleman see her laughter.

The young noble glances about then walks over to the bar, sitting down his
luggage, he orders a vodka in a thickly accented, hardly distinguishable,
yet very effeminate voice.

"What's so funny?" Satyavrat asks, cigarette in his teeth. He turns around
to see what Sylvie's hiding from and does a quick survey of the bar, his
head spinning slightly as he does so. "What did I miss?" His voice is
mockingly hurt, as though his trust has been betrayed.

Sylvie gestures toward the young noble with the hand that holds the
cigarette, then glances back to Satyavrat and smiles as she tries another
drag, still coughing.

Satyavrat chuckles slowly, though still not quit so amused as Sylvie
herself. He shrugs it off and orders a fourth drink, but whatever semblance
of sobriety is left in him questions the Lady from his eyes.

Not to be outdone, Sylvie orders another shot, her fourth as well, and
continues to smoke the cigarette as if it were some kind of vendetta against
herself, eyes watering and a little cough escaping every so often. She leans
close to Satyavrat to whisper to him.

Sylvie whispers, "He's just so...cute."

A second laugh escapes Satyavrat's lips, this one more of an amused giggle.
He glances at the pedicured nobleman, then turns back to Sylvie and nods in
agreement. He raises his glass, still giggling on occasion, and clinks it
gently with hers. "Ahh....we need a toast," he says, as if suddenly
discovering this marvelous fact.

The young nibble sips his drink and nearly chokes the first time, in his
attempt to appear world wise. He glances about at his surroundings
attempting to act suave and imitate those he sees.

Sylvie clinks her glass with Satyavrat's and says, "To jealous, infidelity,
and revenge."

Satyavrat grins. "Revenge," he echoes, although it is, in all probability,
the liquor talking, "Most especially to revenge." He glances at Fahahd's ear
with a grin before tossing back his fourth shot of the Giedi vodka. A
visible shiver shakes his shoulders for a moment, but he is all too quickly
smiling brightly with his cigarette back in his lips.

Sylvie finishes the cigarette, or rather it burns out and she drops it into
her empty shot glass after downing the vodka like it was water. Fahahd
appears to have succumbed to his nine shots of the stuff and she pats his
head consolingly, asking Satyavrat softly, "Who do you have to revenge
yourself against?"

Satyavrat smiles and leans (perhaps a bit too heavily) against the bar. "Oh,
no one. No one yet, and you see, that's disappointing." His eyes are a bit
red from smoke and alcohol, and with his cigarette dangling precariously
from his hand, he looks like he might start talking and just never give up.
"Because, you know, things seem so much simpler when you can find someone or
something and just get mad at it and kill it or tie it up and rape it or
something, right? But what do you do if there isn't anything like that, and
you see, it's just that things haven't been going badly, they're just not
going well, and sometimes you wish that someone you hated would show up and
walk around with a target on their heads. Because that," he pauses for
breath, then gives up on breathing and takes a drag of his cigarette
instead. "That would make things...easy." He leans close as he finishes,
then backs up and puts his head against his hand, propping himself up on the
bar. "Next drink?"

Sylvie laughs and nods, "Number five coming up...and one for the new guy
down the bar there." The bartender serves up the three shots and Sylvie
raises her glass to the noble before drinking hers down. To Satyavrat she
says, "You have lots of training with the sword?"

The young noble blinks someone in suprise as he realizes the lovely lady as
speaking to him, he turns to her and says again in that thickly accented but
soft voice, "My thanks, Lady."

Satyavrat laughs long and well, the laugh of a man who is starting to see
beautiful, smiling people everywhere he looks. "Not really, but, umm..." His
expression falters for a moment, as if he was trying to remember something
very important. "Ah, yes, why do you ask?" He looks at you, genuinely
curious, before being distracted by the difficult rearrangement of his
glasses to form a pyramid.

Sylvie giggles and leans close to Satyavrat, though she doesn't bother to
whisper, "Because if you haven't you can become an assassin and get to kill
lots of people...Master Nestor doesn't take...um...swordsmen, though."

Satyavrat looks at you, laughing hysterically in his eyes. "An assassin?" He
turns back to the bartender, making an imaginary lasgun out of his thumb and
pointer, firing it at the green-eyed man. "An assassin," he hisses as the
bolt of light streaks out and cuts the man to pieces. He giggles as the
bartender rolls his eyes and moves to the far end of the bar. "That might be
nice," he says musingly, turning back to Sylvie as he tries to hold his
cigarette without dismantling his weapon, as it were. "But I don't think I
have it in me. The Rastanyev Assassin...he's a nasty fellow. I imagine he
was beaten or gnawed at by sheep when he was young, you know. He's crazy,
but I shouldn't be telling you that." He shakes his head vigorously. "No,
not at all."

Sylvie giggles, "All us assassin types are nasty. It's the training." She
taps the bar and the bartender sets another shot there for her.

Not to be outdone (not yet, at least), Satyavrat firmly taps his fingers
against the bar, although they slide off, making the tap rather ineffective
as far as sound goes. "Well, I'm not sure I want to be nasty, or surly, or
anything like that. It's tough, you know?" He holds his lasgun up to his
face, dragging on the cigarette there. "I've done all that. Being surly, I
mean. It's not that great, just sort of boring and...well, lonely."

The young noble motions to the bartender that the next round be on him.

Sylvie smiles warmly at Satyavrat, "You don't have to /act/ nasty to /be/
nasty...I'm hardly ever surly, but I could kill you just like that...If I
wanted to." She tries to snap her fingers and can't. She turns her smile to
the nobleman and says, "Thank you good sir, and what might your name be?"

The young man smiles, apparantly totally smitten and
says..."Hani...hanib...Hannibal, Lady."

Sylvie sings softly to herself, "Hani, hani, Hannibal...." Then blushes when
she realizes she said it outloud.

Satyavrat's head slowly lowers to the bar, and his eyes close.

[OOC discon for 15 minutes, IC passing out for 15 minutes.]

Satyavrat stirs suddenly and violently, lifting his head up quickly, barely
grazing by his little pyramid on the bar. His face is entirely flushed, and
the imprint of the barline has been made across his right cheek; a hand
flies up and quickly wipes away a bit of spittle that had slipped out from
drooping lips onto his chin. He's still all smiles, though, and he reaches
for his cigarette...which isn't there. No matter, plenty more where that
came from, he reaches into his green packet and withdraws another slender
smoke, smiling and occasionally nodding his head to show that he is, in
fact, perfectly fine. "Mister, ah, Hannibal, right?" he says, extending his
hand, cigarette and all, to the prissy noble. "How do you do?" The mania in
his voice has subsided a little, but he still looks like he might start
giggling uncontrollably.

Sylvie glances between the young noble and Satyavrat with a grin, "Actually,
that's not a bad idea...looks like Satyavrat could use their services, as
well."

"Services?" Satyavrat asks, retracting his hand before it has been shaken to
light his cigarette. "What services are these?"

Sylvie smiles, "The services of a brothel."

Satyavrat shakes his head to clear the blurring at the edges of his vision.
He takes another puff at his cigarette, then shakes his head more firmly. "A
brothel? Oh, I don't know. The only people who have fun there are those guys
who carry knives in their undergarments and stuff. I don't know anyone who
went to a brothel just because they were interested in sex, because this is
Kaitain, and it's pretty easy to, well, get your hands on, you know?" He
looks around innocently, then back to the noble. "Have I shaken your hand?"

Raschid smiles "I don't think so, sirrah. IS it something they do here?"

Sylvie giggles and extinguishes the cigarette she stole from Satyavrat and
breathes deeply of the smoke-filled air.

Satyavrat draws himself up, adjusting his collar absently. "You do not refer
to the Reeve of House Rastanyev, ruler of the Marquisat of Pushkin, as
'sirrah,' gentle sir," he snaps irritably. Someone doesn't take his drink
too well, does he? "And now that you mention it, I don't care to shake your
hand. I don't know where you've been." He turns his face around to look back
at Sylvie, then sighs and leans once more against the bar.

Sylvie tries not to laugh and reaches out to rub Satyavrat on the back,
"Maybe it's time for you to go home, My Lord?"

Raschid smiles "Please me forgive, er...forgive me yes? I am new to your
World, Reeve of House Rastanyev of Pushkin. We offer our most sincere
apologies fro mthe bottom of our stomachs."

Satyavrat waves his hand vaguely and mumbles something under his breath at
the Lady de Biencourt's suggestion, bringing his head up to look back at the
nobleman. "Please, keep your stomach to yourself," he advises with a giggle.
"It's always good advice, you know, but I feel that I'm not going to follow
it. No, most certainly not..." His mumbling becomes indistinct again and he
lets out a heavy sigh, then quickly fills his lungs with smoke and tar. He
notices the nobleman watching, and quickly explains, "It's to keep the good
air *in*, you see," with a silly smile.

Sylvie giggles again says, "Well, if you're not going home, I am...I'm
supposed to come up with three scenarios and Master Nestor has increased my
physical training again."

Satyavrat makes a long face. "See why I don't want to be an assassin?" he
says, looking around him as if trying to track down the source of a
particularly peculiar blur in his vision. "Physical training...that's rough.
Well, then, if you have to go, you have to go...and that's probably a sign
that I have to go, because if I don't, then it'll just be me and Cannibal
over here, and he's going to share his stomach with me, and that's
depressing, you know? And," he sniffs at the noble, "not really polite,
either." Finally, the exhausted and drunken Reeve gives up and coughs a
horrible, hoarse cough before lying back onto the bar. "Does somebody want
to call a taxi?" he asks to the public in general.

Sylvie nudges Satyavrat, "I'll call a limo and I'll even give you a ride
home."

Satyavrat nods once, then again with more enthusiasm, his limp hair sweeping
across the bartop but miraculously avoiding the tiny pyramid of seven
shotglasses setup there...wait, wasn't it five earlier? No matter. Satyavrat
pushes himself up from the bar, hand clenched tightly around the burning
stub of a cigarette. "Should we be going, my Lady?" he slurs.

Sylvie stands up from the bar.
Satyavrat stands up from the bar.

Sylvie curtsies to Hannibal, "A pleasure to meet you. I hope you find your
inheritance to be everything you hoped for."

Satyavrat's eyes managed to have half-closed themselves at this point, and,
swaying a bit dangerously, he doesn't seem to notice the prissy nobleman as
he begins to lurch towards the exit, still shaking his head, still holding
his cigarette.

Sylvie turns and heads for the door, following Satyavrat out.

You walk through the Revolving Doors.

Mall - Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)

     Polished black onyx covers the expansive floor and low walls of the
spaceport interior, the rest is gleaming plasteel supports and gold-tinted
glass sloping inward on four sides hundreds of meters to a point where a
model of the Known Universe hovers effortlessly, a crystal sphere lit with
tiny glowglobes in clusters of constellation-like patterns.
     The Mall is an indoor patio with fountains and potted plants. Shops and
eateries line the way. At the far end are the Guild offices and cargo
check-points. Armed guards of one sort or another are always found within
the spaceport, and security is enhanced by surveillance equipment and
scanners. A soft, homogenized music plays in the background and solido
projections at convenient locations display arrival and departure times.

Exits:
 Revolving Door <W> leads to Club Modulee -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)
 Main Terminal <E> leads to Main Terminal -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)
Sylvie walks in from Club Modulee through the Revolving Doors.
Sylvie has arrived.

Avoiding the disgusted or laughing looks of Guild and city guards, Satyavrat
continues out the door of the Modulee to shuffle down the sidewalk.

Sylvie keeps pace, heading for the main terminal.

You pass the Main Terminal.

Main Terminal -- Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)

     A wide patio surrounded by a polished brass railing commands a view of
the entire city, but rising up behind, set up atop this high plateau, is a
view to take the breath away. It is an enormous pyramid of gold-tinted
glass. The square bottom of the Guild Spaceport's Main Terminal rests upon a
black onyx base, its edges overhanging to form wide eaves, and sliding
double doors allow entry into the shining jewel of a starport. At night,
glowglobes illuminate from inside, making each of the four sloping triangles
shimmer with a golden light. During the day, the sun reflects off the tinted
glass. From locations about the city, the glimmering light from this
leviathan can be seen like a beacon. Rumors say it is the one man-made
object on Kaitain that can be seen from space.

Objects:
 Mirror                                             Spacing Guild Guardsman
Exits:
 Mall <W> leads to Mall - Guild Spaceport (Kaitain)
 Boarding Passage <SP> leads to Guild Heighliner (Space)
 Elevator <D> leads to Subway Station -- Spaceport (Kaitain)

Sylvie comes from the Mall - Guild Spaceport.
Sylvie has arrived.
Sylvie speaks into her communicator.
A Harkonnen Limousine pulls up near Sylvie.

Sylvie smiles, "Feel like talking about what's bothering you, yet?"
Sylvie enters the Harkonnen Limousine.

Harkonnen Limousine
The vehicle has been appointed with every luxury that can be installed and
still provide seating for six with room to spare. Two sets of three seats
face each other across a small, solid mahogany table. The sides of the table
have recessed handles for access to the compartments within. A circular
light over the table bathes the inside of the limousine in a soft light.
Players:
 Sylvie
Sylvie says something to the driver who nods.

Satyavrat sleepily shakes his head. Something that might be a moan, and
might be a detailed explination of his silence, comes from his general
direction, but he seems to have curled up in the fetal position against the
limousine's door.

The surroundings darken for a moment while going through a tunnel.
There is a sense of acceleration as the limousine picks up speed.
The limousine is buffeted slightly by a large gust of wind.
The limousine is buffeted slightly by a large gust of wind.
The limousine decelerates steadily and comes to a smooth stop.

Sylvie climbs out of the limo as it stops in the embassy district.

As the limousine pulls to a stop, Satyavrat fumbles for a few minutes with
the door latch, then finally manages to open the thing up, stumbling out.

Central Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
The boulevard opens to a large square. Tall trees, spaced evenly about the
square, open in spots to allow view of well-guarded gates, showing peeks of
the wealth behind them. At the center of the square is a statue of Jehanne
Butler, brandishing a sword as she rides on her horse through a fountain.
The boulevard runs parallel to the southeast shore of Lake Corrin.
Players:
 Sylvie                                             Aleksei
Objects:
 Harkonnen Limousine
Exits:
 Stairway <D> leads to Subway Station -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Council Row <SW> leads to Sheuset Square -- Embassy District (Kaitain)
 Council Row <NE> leads to Negara II Plaza -- Embassy District (Kaitain)

Aleksei hmms as he calls a limo and sees Satyavrat and Slyvie arrive, he
bows to Sat.
Aleksei speaks into his communicator.

A Rastanyev Limousine pulls up near Aleksei.
Aleksei has left.
Aleksei enters the Rastanyev Limousine.

Satyavrat emerges, eyes half-lidded, from the limo. He doesn't notice
Aleksei; in fact, he barely notices Sylvie, and barely manages to mumble his
thanks to her and offer her a bow before marching off to the Rastanyev
Embassy.

The Rastanyev Limousine steadily accelerates then departs the area.

Sylvie laughs and waves, "Good bye, My Lord."

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