silvanacaptain (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silvanacaptain) wrote2009-09-18 03:16 pm
silvanacaptain) wrote2009-09-18 03:16 pm
Coronation Day
What do you see in the skies?
It's a question he asks often, mostly of himself. The answer is never quite what he wants it to be -- not yet -- but he isn't giving up. One day the right answer will come back to him, and on that day, maybe, he'll smile again.
Today, he's tired; the Silvana is cleared for take-off. His Vice Captain has left to pursue... oh, he'll be magnanimous and call it other interests, and that's that. He can certainly run the ship without Sophia: he did it before she got here, and he'll do it again. Maybe she's having fun down there on land. He wouldn't know; fun on land is something he tries not to have. Whenever possible, he chooses to remain aboard his ship.
Working. Studying. Looking for...
It's no secret to anyone that he prefers the comfort and solace of the sky -- blue or grey or black as ink, cloudy or sprinkled with stars, calm or wet or with gale-force winds -- because up here, he's untouchable. The past is a constant presence but here it doesn't often reach him. Not even with Dio Eraclea on board. Dio, Lucciola, Claus, Lavie, the cargo: let them all take refuge here. Let the Silvana become a haven for castaways and rebels. It already has quite the reputation.
Goodbye, Sophia.
As the ship takes to the skies, he's disturbed by the voice of his Second Officer, Campbell.
"Captain! There's a Guild warship above the coronation ceremony."
That's interesting.
"It's scattering rose petals!"
Ignore it. His Second knows that will be the answer and he's about to give the order when... "Rose petals?" He leaps out of his chair with a start and issues his order into the voice pipe. "Engineering, flank speed! All hands go to battle stations."
"Sir!" Campbell pauses, but he's not here on the Silvana because he's a hesitant man. Nobody's here who isn't among the very best at their chosen position. "Aye-aye, sir!"
The ship's periscope confirms his suspicion: that's not just any Guild warship. It's her Guild warship. He doesn't hesitate for a moment. "Shoot it down at once!"
The dismay is clear in Campbell's voice. "We can't, Captain! Sir, the First Officer! Her Majesty is right beneath it!"
He knows that. It was the choice his Vice-Captain made when she opted to leave the ship: war is a risky business, and the Silvana is the safest place in the world. If she chose to leave it, for whatever reason, then her fate is in her hands, not his. He owes no allegiance to Anatoray, not any more. The look he gives Campbell is nothing short of venomous. "I know that she's on board. The Maestro is there." It is Delphine's ship, and she is on it; the rose petals tell him that much. This ends today, regardless of the ceremony taking place below them. That's on the ground, and that's the business of land-dwellers. But his business is the sky above, and this is what he's been waiting for.
He's been waiting for ten years.
The Second Officer steps forward. "Forgive me, Sir. I don't believe you're the type of man who would sacrifice a friend just to--"
"Move!" Campbell's in his way; he shoves him aside, shouts the order into the speaking tube. "Target Guild vessel. Use armor-piercing shells."
Apparently in the absence of the First Officer, Campbell has decided to step up with a different idea. "Gunnery Chief. Disregard that order. The Captain's not himself. Do not obey him."
What? Full of rage, full of disbelief -- the opportune moment is passing away before his very eyes -- he shakes with fury. "Campbell, you -- how dare you!"
"Captain, stop" There's sympathy in Campbell's voice, but that doesn't ease the sting of what appears to be mutiny. "Please try and show some restraint here, Sir. Our chance to attack will come when the time is right."
Against the voice pipe, his gloved hand trembles. He was so close. So close. This was his chance, and as the Maestro's ship rises up into the cover of heavy clouds, his heart sinks. Filled with anger, he leaves the bridge for the sanctity of his quarters. Never before has a direct order of his been disobeyed. Never before has he seen this type of insubordination. As he stalks down the corridor -- woe be to anything that gets in the way of him or his cane right now -- his rage grows and grows. There will be hell to pay for this.
The first thing to feel the sting will be the furniture in his quarters, but it will be far from the last.
It's a question he asks often, mostly of himself. The answer is never quite what he wants it to be -- not yet -- but he isn't giving up. One day the right answer will come back to him, and on that day, maybe, he'll smile again.
Today, he's tired; the Silvana is cleared for take-off. His Vice Captain has left to pursue... oh, he'll be magnanimous and call it other interests, and that's that. He can certainly run the ship without Sophia: he did it before she got here, and he'll do it again. Maybe she's having fun down there on land. He wouldn't know; fun on land is something he tries not to have. Whenever possible, he chooses to remain aboard his ship.
Working. Studying. Looking for...
It's no secret to anyone that he prefers the comfort and solace of the sky -- blue or grey or black as ink, cloudy or sprinkled with stars, calm or wet or with gale-force winds -- because up here, he's untouchable. The past is a constant presence but here it doesn't often reach him. Not even with Dio Eraclea on board. Dio, Lucciola, Claus, Lavie, the cargo: let them all take refuge here. Let the Silvana become a haven for castaways and rebels. It already has quite the reputation.
Goodbye, Sophia.
As the ship takes to the skies, he's disturbed by the voice of his Second Officer, Campbell.
"Captain! There's a Guild warship above the coronation ceremony."
That's interesting.
"It's scattering rose petals!"
Ignore it. His Second knows that will be the answer and he's about to give the order when... "Rose petals?" He leaps out of his chair with a start and issues his order into the voice pipe. "Engineering, flank speed! All hands go to battle stations."
"Sir!" Campbell pauses, but he's not here on the Silvana because he's a hesitant man. Nobody's here who isn't among the very best at their chosen position. "Aye-aye, sir!"
The ship's periscope confirms his suspicion: that's not just any Guild warship. It's her Guild warship. He doesn't hesitate for a moment. "Shoot it down at once!"
The dismay is clear in Campbell's voice. "We can't, Captain! Sir, the First Officer! Her Majesty is right beneath it!"
He knows that. It was the choice his Vice-Captain made when she opted to leave the ship: war is a risky business, and the Silvana is the safest place in the world. If she chose to leave it, for whatever reason, then her fate is in her hands, not his. He owes no allegiance to Anatoray, not any more. The look he gives Campbell is nothing short of venomous. "I know that she's on board. The Maestro is there." It is Delphine's ship, and she is on it; the rose petals tell him that much. This ends today, regardless of the ceremony taking place below them. That's on the ground, and that's the business of land-dwellers. But his business is the sky above, and this is what he's been waiting for.
He's been waiting for ten years.
The Second Officer steps forward. "Forgive me, Sir. I don't believe you're the type of man who would sacrifice a friend just to--"
"Move!" Campbell's in his way; he shoves him aside, shouts the order into the speaking tube. "Target Guild vessel. Use armor-piercing shells."
Apparently in the absence of the First Officer, Campbell has decided to step up with a different idea. "Gunnery Chief. Disregard that order. The Captain's not himself. Do not obey him."
What? Full of rage, full of disbelief -- the opportune moment is passing away before his very eyes -- he shakes with fury. "Campbell, you -- how dare you!"
"Captain, stop" There's sympathy in Campbell's voice, but that doesn't ease the sting of what appears to be mutiny. "Please try and show some restraint here, Sir. Our chance to attack will come when the time is right."
Against the voice pipe, his gloved hand trembles. He was so close. So close. This was his chance, and as the Maestro's ship rises up into the cover of heavy clouds, his heart sinks. Filled with anger, he leaves the bridge for the sanctity of his quarters. Never before has a direct order of his been disobeyed. Never before has he seen this type of insubordination. As he stalks down the corridor -- woe be to anything that gets in the way of him or his cane right now -- his rage grows and grows. There will be hell to pay for this.
The first thing to feel the sting will be the furniture in his quarters, but it will be far from the last.