The Urk Expedition

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

As Morgan stepped forward and answered, interestingly with something of a different accent-something he wondered about-he continued, voice loud enough for all the crew to hear.

“Seabeast Morgan has been charged with one count of unauthorized access to an officer’s meeting, and one count of speaking out of turn to a superior officer.”

He paused for a moment, letting it sink in among the crew.

“In my capacity as temporary Captain of the Golden Hide, I hereby strike out the first count, in accordance with an agreement made by me and crewbeasts who shall go unnamed who plead on her behalf. Let it not be said that a Ryalor does not honor his or her word!”

He paused again, then looked directly in the Jill’s eyes.

“As for the second count, I leave it up to Seabeast Morgan. She may either accept summary judgment from me now, or, if any beast wishes to intercede on her behalf to plea for additional leniency, they may speak now and make their case and perhaps another arrangement may be made.”

@Ralynn Waverunner @Gyles @Silvertongue Songfox @Duchess Dusk Rainblade

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"Captain Talinn, sir." Silvertongue stepped forward. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I believe it's unfair to punish Morgan. She was simply standing up for me and my companion. Her fellow crew members. We were the ones who were out of line in that situation. As I said before, please give Morgans punishment to me, instead."

Once again the young Songfox was offering himself up to take Morgans place, except now he had done it in front of the entire crew. Despite his air of confidence, there were little signs that gave away his nervousness. His ears twitched slightly, and he struggled to meet Talinn's gaze. And yet he stood there with bated breath as he stood between Talinn and Morgan.

@Duke Talinn Ryalor

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

There was definitely something deeper going on between Morgan, Silvertongue, and Greeneye than what met the eye, if the Songfox was willing to go this far even after already being told and even after already securing some leniency in exchange for him striking out the first count. That could be useful information to know in the future, and if they had been beasts of importance, he might have even had Dusk take a look into it to find some kind of political or economic leverage. Maybe he still would, but for now, they were still minnows in an Imperium of sharks. And still very naive about how the Empire actually worked.

He took a long moment to pretend as if he were seriously mulling over Silvertongue’s proposal, which he would automatically have to reject, before speaking, tone formal, but more in an educating manner.

“Unfortunately, Recruit Songfox, the two situations are simply completely different. Morgan was a sworn beast of the Navy at the time of her misconduct, thus she was under naval law. You and Recruit Greeneye, until you had been officially sworn in, were not, and were only under general Imperium law which you did not violate. Even if you had been under naval law, her offense is separate from your offense, and you may have been charged and punished separately. Regarding leniency solely on the nature of the offense, that has been already been granted, with one count already being struck, per the agreement with the unnamed crewbeasts.”

He paused once more, taking a deep breath and this time actually thinking for a moment. Silvertongue was a potential asset, more than Morgan or Greeneye at the moment, and perhaps if manipula-ahem-guided on the right path, could be very useful both in controlling both his two compatriots and in other duties. So maybe throw him a little bone, so to speak, that he may become a loyal follower at a minor cost.

“Perhaps a better argument for additional leniency may be made, now, in front of the crew for Seabeast Morgan’s character and potential and actual usefulness to her Majesty’s Navy. The more beasts making these arguments, in a clear and respectful manner, the better.”

Talinn was already well aware of the arguments already made for such made by Ralynn, if she were to step forward and perhaps intercede, but such had to be spoken publicly in front of the crew if he were to justify any further leniency on his part, and perhaps Silvertongue’s no doubt upcoming passionate defense. The Duke for his part also made sure to carefully emphasize clear and respectful, which, if Silvertongue were not a dullard, was a hint that maybe having Greeneye speak would be a bad idea.

@Gyles @Silvertongue Songfox @Ralynn Waverunner @Morgan Liu

 

[Duchess Dusk Rainblade]

Morgan listened, her spirits sinking, as the captain made it clear that he wasn't interested in seeing any nuance in her situation. That Silvertongue spoke up for her and actually asked to be punished in her place was noble, but ultimately foolish. It seemed clear that this new captain was intent on making an example out of somebeast, and she just happened to be the fool who caught his attention. It made sense; when you walked into a new tavern, the quickest way to establish your dominance was to find the biggest beast in there and knock out his lights in front of all his pals. Morgan had used that method a few times herself.

The ferret found her mouth moving before her mind had a chance to catch up with it. "If I may speak, sir, on me own be'alf." She swallowed as she felt all eyes on her, realizing what a truly stupid idea this was now, but she'd already committed to it. "I'm nobeast of importance, sir. M'name wouldn' mean a thing t'ya, I'm sure; I've no education or accolades t' show. I'm na' the brightest on this ship either, an' I know it. If yer lookin' fer anybeas' t' come an' argue tha', as I stand 'ere today, I'm worth me grog, I doubt even me own mother would come down t' argue it."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next part. As she continued speaking, her accent shifted, growing closer to Talinn's southern Fyadorian. "I know I'm worthless, m'lord. You could kill me an' likely not even fill yer glass wi' the tears shed for me. If not fer me mum, I'd have no one to cry for me at all. I came here, to this ship, to this Harbor, this Imperium, with no gold to my name, no title, not even a dream with which to pillow my rest. All I did have, though, is hope."

Her accent was improving, as was her diction; the more she got going, the more strident and clear her voice became. "You see, my mother used to tell me stories of the Imperium when she got drunk," she explained. "Oh, she'd carry on and cuss like a sailor, decrying every hurt and loss she ever took for this place, but she'd cry for it as well, weeping for a land she swore she'd never see again. I didn't understand that until I saw it for myself, my lord. This place, it has a strangeness about it, one I've never seen in the dozen or so homes I've had in the short span of my life. I've been to place after place, every land defining me by what I am not: not one of them, not of their soil, their heritage. This place is strange because it looks at me and doesn't see me by what I am not, but what I can be. I am not born to the Vulpinsula, but I can be a Vulpinsulan. I am not a beast of wealth or stature, but I can be more than a victim of my birth. And I am not worthy of standing on this deck, but I can be someone, someday, who is.

"That is why, even after turmoil and tribulation, the Imperium is still a place for hope," she declared, gesturing to the crew on the deck around her. "That is why a woodlander would swear her life to the heirs of those who once terrorized her people, why a pair with no safe place to go would trust their lives to those who would once have hanged them - and why a todd whose family has been betrayed by this place more times than he can count on his fingers would fight for it even still." She met Talinn's eyes directly as she spoke, the recognition of the name Ryalor and what it meant clearly seared into her memory. "That is what every beast here swears to--not to an Empress they'll never see, but the ideal she represents. The ideal that we can be more tomorrow than we are today. The ideal that even a foolish deckswab who doesn't know her place, who won't shut her damn mouth and meekly bow her head and accept judgment, can maybe be someone worthy of a salute and a pawshake. I accept your judgment for being a fool today, Minister, and you can judge me as harshly for it as you please, but I dare you to judge the beast I am tomorrow, or next year, or next decade, based on the words of one foolish youth speaking up for her friend. If that beast isn't worth keeping, well then, I accept your judgment, Minister. I only ask that you drape me in that flag before I die," she pointed up at the main mast, "so all the crew can see what hope in the Imperium is worth."

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue stepped back as Morgan said her piece. He grimaced and he clenched his fists nervously. The whole reason she was being punished was for speaking out, and now she was speaking out again. Not that he disagreed with her sentiment; it was just the fact she would likely get into more trouble now. He had no other ideas on how to persuade Talinn from not punishing her before, and now the whole thought of it was probably thrown out the window. He still did not fully accept the idea of an 'Imperium' and an 'Empress', but if such things could inspire Morgan like this, then surely it meant something, and maybe one day he'd come to understand it.

He wanted to speak, to say anything to support Morgan, but he was suddenly flooded with a familiar feeling of fear. It was the same sort of experience that he had gone through at the restaurant. A trap of societal expectations. To speak again now would be dangerous, and so, silently cursing his cowardice, he simply said nothing.

 

[Greeneye]

Greeneye was wholly unimpressed by this whole display. If they were on his fathers' ship, Morgan would have likely been made to walk the plank or simply killed right where she was standing by his father. His thoughts wandered. How different was a 'navy' ship from a pirate ship? It was a question that often crossed his mind, even before reaching this foreign land. So far, all of this was familiar to him, except there was not as much pomp and circumstance during his time on the Sea King.

Greeneye had stopped paying attention at this point. He wasn't the one getting in trouble this time around, so it didn't concern him. He was well aware that Silvertongue would likely speak up on her behalf again, anyhow.

 

[Gyles]

Gyles shook his head slowly in wonderment, taking in the ferret's grandiose, almost comitragic performance. Was she trying to tie her own noose? What in Gormad's galoshes was she playing at?

As first officer of the Golden Hide, and more, half a noble, he might say a few words. To be seen as taking a position at odds with the good duke, however, was neither a line he could cross, nor did he wish to. Think, think, gorm it.

Who did she think she was? Wrap her in the bloody flag whilst we all sing Blessin's of Her Grace, eh? It would be best if she was seen as naught but a dramatic child. A harmless, foolish, dramatic child speaking out of turn.
He turned to Talinn, murmuring out the side of his mouth through gritted teeth, "Land sakes, Excellency. Jill's flippin' lost her demmed sense an' sensibilities, ain't she."

@Morgan Liu @Duke Talinn Ryalor @Silvertongue Songfox @Greeneye @Vihmastaja

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

The ferret speaks of hope, of becoming something more than one's origins—sentiments that echo painfully in Ralynn's own heart.

For isn't that why she herself fled the Cabbagepatch farm, traded her birth name for one that tasted of adventure and salt spray? Isn't that why she stands here now, a woodlander among vermin, her paws raw from climbing rigging instead of pulling carrots from loamy soil?

But Morgan's impassioned speech, beautiful as it might be, is nothing but flagrant insubordination – the very offense for which she stands accused! Ralynn steps forward, a sudden flash of anger igniting in her chest like a match struck against rough timber.The rabbit's paw lashes out before rational thought can intervene, connecting with Morgan's cheek in a sharp crack that echoes across the suddenly silent deck.

"Ye'll speak when asked tae speak, crewbeast! Dae ye ken?" Ralynn snarls, following the slap with a vicious backhand that rocks the ferret's head to the side. The sting spreads through Ralynn's paw, but she pays it no mind as she reaches for the rattan cane secured at her belt.

The rope tight in her grip, an extension of naval authority, she raises it high, letting it whistle through the salt-laden air before bringing it down across Morgan's shoulders with a sickening thwack. Ralynn strikes again, methodical and precise.

Each strike is calculated – hard enough to leave welts that will linger for days, but not so vicious as to permanently maim. Ralynn's ears remain pinned flat against her skull, her brown eyes hard as flint as she administers punishment. The ship creaks beneath them, as if protesting the violence upon its deck, while the flag Morgan so eloquently referenced flutters indifferently overhead.

"Such insubordination cannae be tolerated," Ralynn declares between strikes, her voice carrying across the deck where the crew watches in stunned silence. Seagulls wheel overhead, their cries mixing with the rhythmic punishment. "Not in front o' the entire crew, not in front o' Minister Ryalor himself!"

Her heart aches at the need. In her mind's eye, Ralynn hears again the countless stories told to her in her childhood by weathered sailors in Alton Bay – tales of mutinies sparked by a single act of defiance left unchecked, of captains overthrown because they failed to maintain iron discipline. She had sworn never to allow such chaos aboard any vessel under her watch.

The rattan rises and falls, rises and falls. Sweat beads on Ralynn's brow despite the cool harbor breeze. She is determined to deliver a full hundred lashes unless commanded otherwise by Talinn or Gyles – a lesson that will be carved into Morgan's hide and the memory of every beast present.

"This i' wha' happens," she announces to the assembled crew, her brogue thickening with each word, "when ye forge' yer place aboord 'er Majesty's vessel!"

The rope whistles through the air once more, awaiting only the count of 100 or the command of a superior officer to stay her paw.

@Morgan Liu @Duke Talinn Ryalor @Gyles @Silvertongue Songfox

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

Talinn was a fox who had seen much in his over half a century of military training and discipline, having started his tutelage under his uncle Alexei when he was just a mere seven years old all those years ago in Fyador. He had seen, and disciplined, many soldiers and seabeasts of all stripes during that time, in all manner of situations, and indeed, had been under the command of others himself both in the Imperium and back in Westisle, especially in his youth. So he was not a stranger to being defied and how to deal with it. What did rather take him aback, however, was the fact that this Jill was walking so willingly into her own noose despite his own attempts to help her by being lenient and even letting beasts advocate for her. Mayhap he could have even overlooked her testimony in her own defense until she deliberately mentioned his own family, who had indeed largely been blameless for the depredations done to them considering they had never actually been proved to break Imperial law*, and tried to equate her own flagrant misbehavior with their persecution and then on top of that even went so far as to dare him to judge her.

He stared at her as if she were literally insane, a bewildered expression openly crossing his face which was very rare for a fox of his stature. For the first time in many years, he was actually speechless for a moment.

What in the actual name of Vulpuz’s mother?

Gyles, for his part, tried to softly intervene to save the Jill’s hide, chiding her, likely thinking the only way to save her was to paint her as drunk or had otherwise lost her mind. The Songfox, who had been so passionate before, looked aghast and then remained silent. Bosun Ralynn, to his surprise and to his approval, immediately began to exercise her right as Bosun to “start” the Jill, as they put it. The little rabbit he had recruited and helped to save from Alton Bay had become such a fierce thing. He looked for a moment like a proud father as he watched her do her duty properly with the rattan, and mentally noted to keep even more of a watch on her and her career. This one could grow into a fine Captain one day, mayhap even higher.

His thoughts and eyes flicked back to Gyles, whom he would have to talk to about several issues. He owed the stoat for his assistance when he was in trouble during the Empress’s celebration, but discipline had clearly been lax aboard the Hide if Morgan even thought doing what she did was remotely permissible. He did not blame the stoat fully for that, rather the former Captain Coldsworth who had been removed from command for unsatisfactory performance, but going forward he would have to mentor him a bit more and have the Hide be an example of peak naval discipline.

His eyes wandered over to the crew to try to gauge a sense of how they were feeling, and noted Greeneye among them. The rat seemed curiously quiet, nonchalant, and perhaps even a bit unimpressed, an interesting contrast to his partner’s seemingly much more deep care for Morgan’s fate. Perhaps she was considered a bit of a third wheel to his relationship, whatever it was, to the Songfox? Good to know, and perhaps even more important now because clearly the rat had come from a position where such insubordination meant swift death, meaning traditional discipline could be less effective on him than if he simply put pressure on his foppy fox companion to keep him in line.

All of this and we have not even begun the journey yet, Hellgates.

Thankfully, the rest of the crew was either silent or looking on with something of bewilderment at just how stupid she was. They may have been inspired a little by her speech, but whatever inspiration had come from there had been more than outweighed by her own stupidity in going too far with it. What a mess.

The Minister did nothing as the sound of rattan meeting fur echoed throughout the midmorning air, instead taking out a small bottle with a white substance in it, pouring a little bit of it into his spoon, then swallowing it. He washed it down with a bit of rum, which he knew he was not supposed to do, but this whole situation had already elevated his already considerable daily stress level. He then placed the bottle back into his jacket and continued to count the swings of the rattan as he thought about what to do.

Common soldiery should fear their officers more than they fear the enemy.

The words of his late uncle appeared in his mind, and yet, he knew, that while fear may motivate a beast to do their job, it would not inspire them to do more. One had to treat the common soldiery well when they did obey, to always be seen as present, strict yet fair, and looking out for their subordinate's interests. Talinn himself was already planning to dishonorably discharge the present quartermaster after seeing his interaction with Millie and ensure that his beasts had proper victuals, clothing, and equipment, even if military contractors needed to keep disappearing until they learned to not rip off the Navy.

After Ralynn had applied about forty rattan lashes to Morgan, which she should be lucky were simply hard thwacks with a thin cane instead of actual flogging which could do permanent damage instead of the likely month's worth of smarting and pain she was likely to feel, he raised his paw and voice, speaking clearly and loudly.

“You may stop now, Bosun.”

He motioned for the Songfox to come closer to him, and then as the fox did so, he whispered to him, voice cool and low.

“Your...friend...is forcing my paw in a certain direction that does not end well for her if she continues. I am going to offer her a choice of either submitting to my personal summary judgment or facing a board of courts-martial. The latter does not tend to end well for cases like hers.”

He looked directly in Silvertongue’s eyes, his own hard as flint.

“The price for leniency, due to her outburst, has gone up. If you truly wish to take some of her punishment, then, considering your literacy and other talents, you will be appointed as my Aide De Camp, in addition to your full regular duties as a recruit. You will write documents for me, you will clean, sharpen, and oil my blades and armor, you will entertain me as required, you will do my laundry, you will fetch my food, and do many other miscellaneous tasks for me, and you will do them to perfection. A normal crewbeast’s day is 12 hours per day, with eight to sleep and four for leisure. If you accept, expect a minimum of 16 hours per day with your additional duties. Any leisure time will come out of your sleep allotment, but be warned if you are not adequately rested enough to perform your duties, you could face punishment. This will continue until I deem otherwise, whereupon I may after your basic training is finished shift you to a regular schedule as my aide.”

He paused.

“Nod if you accept, and then you may go talk to that fool Morgan and see if you can convince her to publicly apologize and accept summary judgment when I offer it to her, and for her own sake, say nothing more. Further grandiosity will not be tolerated. And Silvertongue, the more her apology seems authentic and deep, the better."

Talinn waited for the Songfox’s response, then gave him time to speak to Morgan, and then gave a little more in the event either Gyles or Ralynn wished to try to get him to convince her to take the non-suicidal option. Then, rising from his chair, he spoke once more, hoping that the foppish little fox could work his magic on the idiotic jill. He did not relish the idea of sending her before a formal court and the much harsher punishment that could entail.

“Seabeast Morgan!” He bellowed, voice hard and loud enough for all to hear. “You are now charged with an additional count of contempt towards a superior officer in addition to the original standing count of speaking out of turn. You may plead guilty and accept my summary judgment on this new count as you have already done on the original count, or you may plead innocent to one or both counts since you do not seem to think the count you already seemed to have pled to is a "just" charge and then make your case on both counts before a formal courts-martial. What say you?”

@Ralynn Waverunner @Gyles @Morgan Liu @Silvertongue Songfox

*Assuming, of course, one assumes that "Vaelora Ryalor" was a separate person from Armina Rogue, a truth Talinn tells himself and has actively tried to promote for the last decade to varying degrees of success.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue held his paws to his mouth as he watched Ralynn strike Morgan repeatedly with the rattan, his ears flat against his head. He wanted nothing more but to shout and scream for Ralynn to stop, but he kept his emotions in. As Talinn motioned for him to step forward, he let out a shuddering sigh, nervousness clearing getting to him now.

He listened carefully to Talinn’s proposal. An ‘Aide de Camp’. It was not a term Mother had thought to explain to him when she was teaching him the ways of high society.

“Aide of the Captain- Aide de Camp.” He thought to himself. “That makes sense.”

He went to speak, but he instead nodded silently, before turning and hurriedly walking across the deck. What was only a few seconds felt like an eternity as he felt the eyes of the crew boring into him. This whole thing was quite the spectacle and while he usually loved being the center of attention, this scenario was not the kind of thing he would wish on anyone.

Once he was close enough to Morgan he gingerly put his gloved paws on her arms, making sure she was okay before speaking.

“Morgan. I usually only need to say this to Greenie… please, please let me do- most of the talking in this situation. Talinn is being- what I assume is quite generous. I’m not at all familiar with the proper decorum of the Imperium yet, so I am treading water here. For the sake of your mothers, please just apologize and accept what’s going to happen. Imagine what you are apologizing to them, it might help.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I tried everything I could to try and get you out of this, I truly did. Im afraid it’s entirely out of my hands now.”

After finishing speaking to her, he walked back, stepping back into the crowd of the crew next to Greeneye.

 

[Greeneye]

Greeneye watched the flogging. His mind flashed back to his time on his father’s ship, and the slave driver, Heskel. The only creatures he had seen whipped before were the slaves. If any crew member angered his father they were beaten by his bare fists, or killed.

To see a woodlander flogging a vermin was a new thing to him. Though in his mind he knew it was because of Ralynns position that she could do this. Part of him wondered if she wanted to. She had seemed like a cheerful creature when they first met.

His attention turned towards Silvertongue as the Captain called him over, whispering something to him. It made his hackles stand on end.

He could have easily chalked it up to his own jealousy, and his protective instincts towards Silvertongue, but he still was wary about the Captain, as well as his supposed second in command, Gyles.

As Silvertongue returned back to his side, he was still tense. He could tell that Silvertongue was uneasy, and it put him on high alert.

@Duke Talinn Ryalor @Morgan Liu @Gyles @Ralynn Waverunner

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan's ears flattened against her skull as first that stoat tried to infer that she was drunk or insane. She'd certainly been drunk plenty of times before, and her mother regularly called her insane, but this was the clearest her mind had ever been. We never should have come back, mother, she reflected. Whatever place it was that Bezine had thought she was returning to, this wasn't it.

When the beating began, Morgan braced herself, focusing on shouldering the blows. She'd had worse; she'd had more than her share of broken and fractured bones, bruises galore... Still, she grit her teeth and focused on the deck before her, restricting the impulse to seize that stupid rod and beat the rabbit right back with it. She'd never been able to take a punch without throwing one in return; she always needed to have the final blow. Probably what got you into this stupid mess, she reflected. If she'd just kept her mouth shut and let Silvertongue speak for her, nothing would have happened.

When the blows let up, Morgan gasped, the pain she'd been suppressing all catching up to her. 'Gates, it burned, the amalgamated pain searing its way through her body. She'd certainly have some impressive bruises to show for it, and would probably be sore for a matter of weeks, assuming nothing had been broken. She glared at the imperious fox as he called over Silvertongue, speaking quietly to him for a while. When Silvertongue came over and pled with her, she listened, and listened equally to the terms that the captain laid out.

I humiliated him in front of his crew, she realized. I made him look powerless, and he can't let that stand. He needs the crew to see me broken or dead, one of the two. She hated it, the petty, fragile egos of all the beasts around her pretending to be above reproach. All of them were so scared of being seen as mortal because then they couldn't demand loyalty from those beneath them. She recalled her mother's stories of the Imperium, how as an Erlani nomad, then an orphan, a non-native speaker of Vulpinsulan to boot, she'd been spat upon and looked at with suspicion. Even when she'd thought she found a family, eventually they'd turned on her as well because she'd chosen her love for Eirene over loyalty to them. In the end, they didn't care about the beasts under them; it was, it had always been, about power and control.

Morgan ground her teeth, straightening up as much as she could manage. "I apologize, my lord," she managed to get out, "for my rash words. I did not intend to offend by them. I will admit, your language is not my tongue from birth, and its nuances sometimes escape me. My ignorance of your ways does not excuse my impertinence, and I throw myself at your feet for your mercy."

I hate you. I hate you all. Right now all she could imagine was strangling that old fox with his own cravat. She was sure that he could see the contempt in her eyes for him, just how small and petty she found him. After all, if he felt that he needed to respond with this much force and violence to the voice of one young jill, how weak, how frightened, how desperately insecure must he feel his position? True power didn't care what those beneath it thought. Her mothers gave her plenty of glares and harsh words, but they had never found it necessary to raise a paw to their daughter. She met the fox's eyes, letting him see the hate she bore for him. Just kill me, she dared silently. Let everyone see your nobility and ideals for the lies they are. In the end, you're no more noble than thugs brawling on the street.

 

[Duke Talinn Ryalor]

As Talinn watched the events unfold, he inwardly sighed, once again reflecting how often he had to play or be perceived as the villain, even when he tried to do good. He admitted he could be quite a bastard at times, but they were truly, in his opinion, not that many, especially in comparison to all he had been through. Malikus, Sken, Senderjay, all had hated him almost from the moment they met him and had sought to undermine him at every turn, even if he was only do what was in the Imperium’s best interest seeking to remove the usurper and murderer Ullyanov from power. Freedom, his soul be damned to eternal suffering in the innermost circle of Hellgates for what he did to Vaelora, presenting himself as some kind of savior while being a snake and going on a crusade against him and his family for no reason ,Vorsky, when he was only looking out for his cousin’s best interest, even Alexei, who had decried him as a traitor for his deal with the Empress when everything he had done was to preserve his house and keep its members alive, something his uncle had spectacularly failed to do out of a sense of “honor”.

Brother, if you were still alive, I wonder if they would eventually have turned on you too.

Ironically, the only ones from that era who did not see him as evil were Tanya and Dusk, though the two continuously and relentlessly pointed out his own flaws, perhaps because they understood exactly how the Imperium had its way with beasts and had committed their own dark deeds. It was, in a way, suitable that he had ended up with the latter two as his family, or what he had left of it from those brutal times.

Talinn met the Jill’s hateful and judgmental eyes without flinching. Oh, he could guess what was going on through her mind, but damn what she thought. She had no idea what it was like to be in his position, every decision he made affecting every facet of every other thing not only on the ship, but in the Imperium itself. Needing to calculate everything, never being able to sleep well. It was too much to deal with almost, and in the end, he was completely alone with it all. This was the course he had chosen, and if she hated him for it, she could wait in the line that stretched from here all the way to the ends of the known world and beyond of beasts who felt similarly.

The important thing was that, in the end, Morgan had caved and publicly apologized, the bare minimum she could do to save her hide, and that he could now move forward. He stood up from his chair.

“Very well, let it be known that Seabeast Morgan has accepted my summary judgment!” He decreed, intentionally not mentioning her apology as he knew it was not genuine. “I find her guilty on both counts.”

He paused, turning away from her and towards the crew, speaking in a softer, more educational tone.

“As for the first count, speaking out of turn, if you wish to speak to the captain on your own accord in a proper and legal way, there are three ways to do it in normal conditions. The captain shall, in the course of his or her daily duties, make himself or herself available for a time at the main mast to hear the concerns or complaints of his crewbeasts, when he is there you may approach and respectfully address whatever it is you have to address. Second, you may speak to the bosun at his or her discretion, or, if the bosun cannot be found, the first or second mates, who will relay the message to the captain when he or she has available time to deal with them. Third, you may raise your paw in the air in front of the captain and then salute him or her, indicating you wish to speak, and only when he or she has given you permission to do so, may you speak. In the event of combat, you may address the captain or his or her officers to relay critical information at any time, but do keep in mind he or she is often busy and do not disturb him or her unless it is truly important. Seabeast Morgan is being punished today on that count as she spoke out of these conditions, namely speaking to the captain in ordinary times without first getting his or her or his or her officer’s permission, not because of the content of her speech.”

Taking a sip from his glass of rum to wet his throat, he continued.

“As for the second count, contempt towards a superior officer, I think it is plain to everybeast here that her conduct met that threshold, so I shall not explain further. As to the dismissed count for leniency, entering an officer’s meeting without permission, Seabeast Morgan did not knock on the door or wait for permission to enter, she simply entered. Even if there are no guards posted at the door to the captain’s cabin, unless given explicit permission, one is to knock before entering and only enter if given explicit verbal approval by the captain or his or her officers. If you suspect the captain is ill or incapacitated in his or her cabin and cannot reply, find an officer and report this so that they may enter and assess the situation.”

He turned back to Seabeast Morgan, meeting her hateful eyes once again, then Ralynn’s.

“In the normal course of events the bosun shall be the officer who ensures discipline is carried out as part of his or her duties. It is to Bosun Waverunner this responsibility shall be given to today.”

He took a deep breath, and continued.

“On the first count, speaking out of turn, and in consideration of her skills as an orator, which scarcely one beast in a hundred might be suitable for training as one, and for the benefit of the crew, she shall host a bit of a show for us, whose parts are to be determined by the Captain, at this evening’s dinner service, which shall be held early at approximately three hours past noon on the deck to afford sunlight so that we may best see her skills on display.”

He paused to let the sentence sink in, then continued.

“On the second count of contempt towards a superior officer, I pronounce the following punishment: Seabeast Morgan shall be stripped down to the bare essentials on her person such as to maintain decency, then doused with cold seawater until she is thoroughly soaked. She will then climb, or if she cannot climb, be hoisted to the crow’s nest, where she shall remain to think over her actions until I decide otherwise. This is to help temper her fiery disposition into one proper for a seabeast of the Navy."

He paused once more, then finished his announcement.

“That concludes the judgment of Seabeast Morgan! Bosun Waverunner shall now immediately execute the punishment proscribed on the second count. If Seabeast Morgan violates this punishment before I order her down, I will consider it an act of mutiny, to be punished by hanging from the yardarm. For the punishment on the first count, assemble on deck at the previously mentioned time. We shall now watch Bosun Waverunner carry out her duties.”

With that, and a tired sigh, Captain Ryalor sat down on his chair, to watch what he had proclaimed be carried out. Motioning to Gyles, he spoke when the Mate came up to him.

“Fetch recruit Silvertongue, the new fox in the foppy attire, he has been assigned as my aide de camp. Tell him to bring up my order of fish and chips from the galley, along with some bread and water. I have some further things to discuss with him.”

With that, he remained silent, in thought about what to do with Morgan after her public punishments had been carried out. Having a beast holding such hatred and grudges towards him on a ship could be dangerous, and while the stick was certainly effective, one also needed to use the carrot, and not just on rabbits like Ralynn. He would have to speak with her afterwards, privately, to make her understand why he had no choice but to do what he did. If she understood and offered a sincere apology, good. If she did not and continued to harbor such hatred, well, a misertrosse to Dusk was always an option.

What a bloody mess, and we have not even finished our meeting about the preparations for the expedition.

@Ralynn Waverunner @Gyles @Morgan Liu @Silvertongue Songfox

 

[Gyles]

The Stowett scion nodded, though he cringed internally. More noble politicking, it must be, having a lead commissioned officer dispatching summons like some errand jack. He did not, however, allow one single whisker to twitch out of turn. He had endured worse - far, far worse. He could live with this arrangement. "Hem. As you say, Excellency."

It was obvious Seabeast Liu's misconduct had earned Gyles the Minister's ire for the moment, yet why that might be puzzled him. What bearing should the first officer have in managing the day-to-day of the able-bodied seabeast, lest one of those rakings-and-scrapings of the Slups' worst be insubordinate? Why, the thought of a noble, however low on the genteel pecking order, having to openly listen to the ravings and rantings of every common tar, mete out prize and punishment alike, and order the general shipboard work - well, not one bit of that could bear entertaining. Officers' minds were purposed for other matters, matters of strategy and visionary leadership. Officers stooping to the level of the crew in anything but matters of valor, honor, and war meant the gutter classes bled the same blood as their betters, had voices that ought to be heard, held... "rights". A repulsive suggestion to Amarone's most powerful elite.

The Minister couldn't have it both ways: either the commissions were a different breed from the rankers and their warrants, or they weren't. Even swinging the lash or delivering a reprimand was a statement, proof that the mortal's deeds or misdeeds were worthy enough to demand the attention and time of the gods. What was next? Talinn's own new aide-de-camp hauling up anchor chains? Stitching canvas? Leading the singing of shanties with the swabbies on Sundays? A vile precedent and a bad look - surely not what Talinn had in mind.

Gyles considered, at first, the possibility that perhaps even the Duke, being ultimately a creature of land and castles and clandestine schemes, was unaware that bandying and belaying among the Navy rank-and-file was the work of the warrants, such as Quartermaster Banvane and that rising star Ralynn - indeed, where was that damned Destin Banvane, when the Minister's displeasure should have fallen squarely on his shoulders? - but no, Talinn was far too savvy for that. The old dog must've known damned well what he was doing. Unfair? Certainly. Was he testing Gyles' mettle, feeling him out through trial and tribulation? A certainty.

Well and good. As first officer, he had a mission to worry about, even if they had all been duped into trivial nonsense on this, the most critical first day. Again, more charades, the political games of a political beast such as Ryalor. He had learned, from his time at court, to accept their doings with grace. There would, eventually, be action, even in spite of these setbacks.

Nothing for it but to shoulder the burden and do his part to move the pieces he could. He was, he reconciled to himself with a smile, as good at taking blame as he was at sharing credit, traits that had earned him plenty of friends in the right places, noble and otherwise. He adjusted his pristine silk jabot and took a few paces toward Silvertongue and addressed the new secretary with a curt nod. "Recruit Songfox, eh. As aide to the good Minister, that means you write his letters, rub his footpaws, and do whatever he demmed well pleases, don't it! Today, it means you bring him fish 'n' chips from the galley an' await further orders. Got that, sirrah?" He winked. "On the double."

 

[Morgan Liu]

Morgan listened to the judgment against her, her face burning. So, she was to be humiliated twice then - once by forcing her to sing and dance, and once by stripping her bare, or nearly at least, and putting her on display as an example to the crew. She could see the logic in it, even if she hated it. Well, she could at least do something to keep her dignity. She shrugged out of her jacket, letting it fall to the ground, and quickly ran her paws down her front, unbuttoning her shirt. This she shrugged out of, her undershirt quickly following after. Her pants joined them in a moment, leaving her entirely in her skivvies. She stood there, her stance firm, glaring at the Minister and daring him to find fault with her for complying with his orders. After all, he had only ordered that she be stripped down; he hadn't specified by who, and now there she stood, definitely stripped down.

 

[Vihmastaja]

Vihma had been busy belowdecks when the crew summons had gone out. Oh, aye, busy in that way she now tried to find herself, using her rating – and, admittedly, the real experience she’d had with the Urk run from back on the Valdez – to find herself less demanding work to fill out her day. The Hide was a much bigger ship than she’d ever known before, the crew still very new to her, and so she’d not yet exhausted their number that needed review of cold weather training. She’d talked up a tall enough set of accolades for herself on the subject, though most of it was borrowed knowledge and inconclusive personal theory. Still, she’d survived Urk, hadn’t she? Hadn’t even lost a limb to the cold – proof she knew how to wrap a footpaw properly, eh?

Still, the summons found her as it did the gunnery crew she’d been ‘reviewing for readiness’, and the bunch headed up without protest. Big ship or not, it seemed the enthusiasm for her experience had been exhausted in the first couple of days. Announcements were more exciting anyhow – perhaps the whole Urk voyage was to be canceled entirely, and the ship sailed somewhere more warm and inviting.

Vihma could only hope. She’d not quite promised to look out for Morgan in her last talk with her parents, but she hadn’t quite not promised to do that either. The cold was dangerous, the island and its shrews moreso. The weasel didn’t know what she’d do if she somehow lost her best friend. It’d been easier not having anybeast to worry about.

The cause for the summons drove that point home, hard. She’d avoided the officers as best she could since setting sail – officer attention hadn’t been good for her on the Valdez, and she didn’t want to risk falling out of the favor she might still have with the first mate after the skirmish in the harbour – but she could recognize them at a distance. And, of course, she could recognize Morgan, and knew immediately something had gone horribly wrong.

The weasel was too shocked for words. What had the ferret gotten herself into? The charges rang out, and she remained silent, paws over her mouth as she gawked in disbelief, not believing any of it could be real. Only when the call had gone out for good statements upon Morgan’s character had Vihma tried to call words up again, sputtering silent gibberish from far back in the crowd before the ferret had spoken up herself, all but spurning the acting Captain and his mercy, invoking imagery of public execution.

Shocked silent once again – in fairness, alongside much of the crew in that regard – the weasel missed her chance to speak up, not that she’d imagine she could have mustered up more than a whisper with such a fate suddenly in the air.

Thankfully, the officers didn’t seem to take the suggestion to heart, and somebeast – on second glimpse she could make out Silvertongue and Greeneye near beside them, though their presence aboard the ship was confusion enough to require the double take – had even managed to get Morgan to apologize before she could get herself killed.

‘Gates, they hadn’t even gotten to the bloody island yet.

Still, there was punishment to be had for the charges that’d been read, and that was enough to finally snap her out of her stupor. With less decorum than she’d displayed thusfar in her navy career, though perhaps some of the confidence her time in had won her, the weasel forced her way through the crowd of assembled seabeasts, making her way closer to the gathered officers and her damnedfool friends.

“Out’a my way, make way – move ye bloody idiot!”

Pushing the last of the beasts between her and her target aside, the tawny and gold-furred weasel emerged from the mottley mass of the vaguely uniformed crew with her fur riled and her eyes wide, mind racing for methods to somehow rescue her adopted sister of sorts from her own incredible lack of self-preservation – only to be stuck staring, lost for words as the ferret stripped herself down in a last, parting mockery of the punishment she’d been mete out.

Vihma’s eyes wandered for a moment – there wasn’t helping that – but a forceful shake of her head and the absurdity and the danger of the moment pushed surprise and whatever else back before she could dawdle.

“Morgan!”

She rushed out onto the raised deck, heedless of consequence, though she wasn’t quite so daft as to not realize the possible ways her actions could damn her, immediately trying to rationalize her intrusion into the matter.

The weasel practically ran into Morgan, but stopped herself in the last couple of paces, greeting Ralynn and the collected officers with an open-palmed paw up to her ear – a textbook navybeast salute, executed with all the perfection painful repetition could buy.

“Sirs, marm! Apologies fer interruptin’ proceedings – this beast has been actin’ under my responsibility.”

Vihma swallowed hard, visibly nervous, and also realizing the depth Morgan had dug for herself wasn’t something her simple rating could easily carry her out of.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, sirs – marm – she’s still a fresh recruit, ‘n this is ‘er first voyage. I-”

The words ran out as she breathed – her tongue finally hiding behind suddenly dry lips as she struggled to find a case for any sort of reprieve for the ferret.

Looking pleadingly at Ralynn, though without breaking attention, the weasel finally drew up some words she thought might not be entirely worthless, though they stumbled out of her mouth in a manner less befitting her uniform.

“Bosun, Chief, d-d’ye require any assistance in… in the safe execution of, er- the prescribed punishment – marm. The weather... the weather can get mighty cold up top, y'see…”

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

Ralynn's whiskers twitch in agitation as Vihma bursts forth from the crowd like a cork from a bottle. The golden-furred rabbit feels her patience—already stretched thin as sailcloth in a gale—snap completely. Here Ah am, in charge o' discipline, an' crewbeast after crewbeast cannae follow the proper anythin'. Nae, Ah willnae have it. Ah'll put this ah-right noo.

Oddly, her mind flashes back to her mother. She'd always resented the strict, matter-of-fact way her mother had engaged with her 24 siblings. Her mother had thought her fascination with boats and sailing to be a harmful fantasy. A hope that could never be fulfilled, that would become a canker within the young bunny. One that might eat her alive. But her mother had underestimated her. She had studied, learned, practiced, and become more than proficient in the craft of seafaring. She'd found her way and earned her place on a ship of this caliber.

She now found, however, that perhaps she had underestimated her mother. Though the stakes might be lower in a rabbit burrow, still order and discipline were key. Knowing your place and keeping to it was Important. And because of that, strict order and quick consequences were vital.

All of this flashes through the rabbit's mind in a heartbeat as she is surprised, again, by an out-of-order crewbeast waxing dramatic about what should have been a slap on the wrist. A mild correction to impart the seriousness of naval order. And, in that cause...

The deck sways beneath her footpaws, the wood warm from the afternoon sun. The tang of salt air mingles with the sharper scent of fresh tar and the musky odor of packed bodies as the crew watches this drama unfold. Somewhere above, rigging creaks and canvas snaps in the harbor breeze.

Ralynn spits on the planking, the sound sharp in the tense quiet. She marches forward with ears rigid, held not back but high and forward, and strikes the weasel squarely in the gut with a clenched paw. Not as hard as she could, but enough to drive the wind from Vihma's lungs. The sound of the impact lands with a dull thud that seems to echo across the deck.

She steps back, brown eyes flashing with righteous anger. "Aye, weel, as it seems ye also cannae follow simple orders, freshly given tae all crewbeasts in public forum, ye can help yer mate by keepin' her company in her punishment." Her voice carries the snap of a whip. "Crewbeast Vihma, strip yersel' tae yer skivvies an' prepare tae recieve the consequences appropriate tae those who cannae maintain the chain o' command or keep the ship's, an' their, peace."

She turns to face the assembled crew, her small frame somehow expanding with authority. The sun glints off her golden fur as she draws herself up, casting a sharp-edged shadow across the weathered planking.

"HEAR THIS, YE DAMNED FOOLS." She squares herself, voice cutting through the air like a knife through butter. "THERE IS A TIME AND A PLACE AND A PERSON. Ye will follow orders an' remember yer place at all times an' in all things. Speak yer piece to those above you at the times prescribed, or face the law o' 'er Majesty's Navy!"

Her gaze sweeps the deck, noting the wide eyes and suddenly still forms of the crew. The only sounds are the creak of the ship, the distant cry of gulls, and the soft slap of waves against the hull below.

Then her eyes fall on Greeneye, the surly rat standing near Silvertongue. Might as well swallow the frog on this one, too. She points, not commandingly but directly, at him. "Ye. Start pulling up buckets o' seawater and bringin' 'em here until I tell ye tae stop."

She turns, purposefully not looking to see if he complies, the brass buttons of her uniform catching the sunlight as she moves. The rattan still gripped in her paw, she waits for Vihma to comply and Greeneye to bring her the first bucket, her stance as unbending as an iron mast. The air around her seems to crackle with tension, her message clear—the time for speeches and dramatics is over. Now is the time for discipline.

@Morgan Liu @Vihmastaja @Duke Talinn Ryalor @Gyles @Silvertongue Songfox

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue has been looking at Talinn mostly, and then towards Gyles as he gave his orders. Then he turned and noticed Morgan stripped down to her undergarmets.

"OH, GREAT HEAVENS!" He exclaimed in shock, swiftly covering his face. "I-I'd better go get those fish and chips for Captain Talinn!"

With that, he quickly hurried over across the deck, holding his paws over his eyes and not even bothering to ask where the galley was at.

 

[Greeneye]

Greeneye raised an eyebrow at Gyles. "So... the Cap'n wants Silvie to wait on 'im paw an' flippin' foot, hmm? I don' like der sound o' dat one bit." He thought to himself with a grimace on his face. His thoughts on Talinn were quickly sidelined as he watched Silvertongue waltz across the deck with his eyes covered. "Seems like everyone is makin' a fool o' themselves today! Maybe some sort of jitters goin' 'round or somethin!"

"Silvie- What are ye doin?!" He started to say, before Ralynn set her sights on him next.

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

"Forgive me, but I won't gawk at a young lady in her undergarments!" Silvertongue called back to Greeneye, before smacking face first into the door of the captains' quarters. He let out a pained yelp and fell onto his rear, now grasping his muzzle as he shakily stood up and shuffled down to the lower decks, where he assumed the galley would be at.