Recent content by Gyles Stowett

Out of the corner of his eye, Gyles felt, more than saw, the blur of his understudy's training blade - and made no move, keeping his focus on the skulk of foxes now gathered by the gangway. Who could resist letting the plucky youngster land his first strike? P-o-ke. But not without a lesson...

Prizzack's chewed his lip. "Nobeast sh'd 'ave to grow up without a mum's love." He withdrew the cold pipe from his mouth and returned it to its place in his belt pouch of effects. "Norwise with a dad like that. Dad like that ain't no dad. Ye don't never need to see 'im again - not on this side...

"Quite." Gyles offered the cat scientist a nod of summary approval. "Welcome aboard, Dr. ... Amatis Moontail. Bear in mind that any investment of this ship's resources into botanical pursuits, or any nonessential aim, will be subject to the requirements of the Service. We've a mandate, don't...

The Captain of the Golden Hide raised an eyebrow. "Involved." He repeated the word to himself, rolling it around in his mind like a shimmering pearl. Smooth and precious. He stood up, attention on the retreating outline of Vulpinsula behind them, Bully Harbour and its stuffiness and walls and...

The captain took a chair, passing one of the glasses to the wildcat and one to Kaii as he passed. He didn't really offer, per se, no. For Gyles Stowett, drink was a given in company. "Try this. 1737." Moontail. Doctor. Field scientist. Observer... Hard to take a word at its most natural...

He stopped drinking. "Aye, Morgan. 'S all real loyalty can be, ain't it. This ship is the Imperium, more than stone, earth, an' whatever ... hobnob culture Vulpinsula can claim; her crew - our friends - its citizens more than scheming nobles and arrogant ministers and Fogeys with all their rules...

"No, you ain't." He almost chuckled too, then he was dead serious as he continued in his curious Old Miklarian. "But I'm afraid we all might be." "I'm not at liberty to say more about what we face, but even if I was to say, I couldn't. We don't really know. Just...tidbits. Pieces of...

(Continued from Hang the Treasure!) Science, engineering, the things a Navy officer learned in brief at University and never used again. "All chemistry, ain't it?" The door shut. Gyles shook the spattered ocean spray from his oilskin overcoat at the lintel and hung it on the row of coat-hooks...

Prizzack was up after the pair in a trice. He shimmied, hopped, and swung off things. Easy as a squirrel in his own neck of the woods, was Prizzack. He dropped lightly to a squatted stance, forearms resting on his bent knees, like a scout with a couple of fresh recruits. "Arrighty, me luckies."...

Honeytail. Ragg. Wrayle. Aberkine. All the rest. They all went over the side in their turn, in their time. No matter who went first. They all of 'em had the patience of the dead. Brull, Piper, and the other marines had put together a bundle in lieu of the unrecovered body of their stern...

"Ô, nan. Quaicâ l'è pas on essai. Ze cran que cé que vos antandé orandrai l'è l'eitandu de man, heh, Alkamarien, se vos povéd apela quaicâ. Vos avai onna bona oreillie: cé l'è la chosa dé marinie. Aprai an mar, nan? Lou peti gen - on lé apelé rusti - étivon lou pe bon dé mèitre." He smiled...

"I only wish it had been enough at Urk, sir." Gyles filled a glass and pushed it across to her. "A catastrophe." Urk, devil take it. One more power play in the long list of Ministries shoving the Navy about after whatever new bauble caught their eye, the lives of her bold sons and daughters be...

Gyles watched the little display, then its various members parting ways in various directions to get about various duties. The Foskateers, is it. Some serious, no-nonsense caricature of an old instructor in the back of his mind thought to say something to Nashirou and Songfox about how officers...

Once every beast had given them the space, Gyles motioned for Morgan to come closer. He thought for a moment how to approach the delicacy of the matter, the circumstances of their mission. For much, he would just have to trust his instinct about her. He motioned to the weatherbeaten chair that...

Quartermaster Ingle Prizzack sheltered his corncob pipe with one paw as he leaned his back on the broad oak gunwale. With the other paw, he held a flickering match to the sweet tobacco grounds within until they glowed. Never really in a hurry to do anything, was Prizzack, yet a remarkably...