Orientation and Academia
The explosions were deafening and both of our masts were blown away leaving us in dead trouble, and possibly just dead. A number of my friends were blasted out of the bubble of precious atmosphere, at least a dozen spinning into the astral void. There was the irritating ship's cook to whom seasoning was a lost art, there the annoying first mate whose personal mission was to make everyone’s life a misery, there the so- amusing ship's joker who thought it funny to ape my gait and language. Actually when I came to think about it they were more comrades, no colleagues, no, perhaps the right word is acquaintances.
Anyway, whatever they were as they floated off flapping their jaws and making even more disturbing noise vibrations than normal, some of them might have been handy to help repel the astral reavers now leaping aboard as their pirate cutter nuzzled against our drifting bow. Even more concerning a second was only a minute behind, clearly aiming to come alongside on the other side.
The Moonrider’s Captain, Agatha Sardox with her last breath on the poop* shouted something deranged about shandy** before succumbing to her wounds. So, no one at the helm, sails and rigging shot away so no chance to manoeuvre or escape, leaderless, outnumbered, boarded and with most of the crew absent without leave and or life, I rapidly assessed our remaining resources: Pablo Escabar and Elethiel. Shit.
*It’s part of a ship ok? What are you, nine?
**’Hold the top deck’
Well as the great queen Mynach K’Stit Vin-Nash once said, ‘When life gives you Lemons…’ I took cover and concentrated on blending into cover by the stump of the foremast. Pablo, a giant Gif humanoid which at least made him easier for me to identify in a crowd, had pulled his bow as had the Astral Elf. I prepared a sleep spell, hoping my camouflage was effective as the first arrows flew at us. Elethiel’s arrow took one attacker in the side as I delayed casting until a larger group of reavers came within range.
After what seemed an age at least three attackers were in range, and as they advanced I unleashed my sleep spell. Sadly only the leading hostile fell drowsing to the deck. Another shot from the Gif on my right now took the already wounded attacker in the throat and it went down, but Elethiel had been hit too. Pablo now decided inexplicably that climbing the ten foot stump of the foremast would be a good idea. Glancing up I was just in time to see a third and larger pirate vessel and shout a warning as a volley of arrows was fired from above, wounding the giant yet surprisingly sprightly gif thief.
I began to set up colour spray as another wave of boarders leapt aboard, even as another explosion shook the ship as it entered its death throes, throwing my comrades/ colleagues/ acquaintances to the deck, then there was another blast, another, and everything stopped.
We stood dazed as a smartly uniformed hidozi who may have been wearing a uniform but it was difficult to see because of all the medals, commendations and Valour strips that covered most of her torso. Bosun Torto* peeked out from behind all that finery and bestowed one of her famous looks of disgust. We had failed the Koboyashi Moonrider test like a thousand cadets before us. ‘So the Battle of Cartha goes as usual to the reavers, another sorry crew lets down brave Captain Sardox. Cadets to medicare then report for debrief.’
*The lone ranger was busy with commitments elsewhere
So Elethiel and Pablo had their actually psychosomatic wounds attended to and the elf proposed a drink, however we were to discover as Queen Ja’ Kai m’Nesta-Cor once said, that there is no peace for the wicked. We were issued with orders to report for induction packs from reception and then had a further date at the sky dock. It hardly seemed more than two hours since we had arrived here on Toril after a dull transit aboard a rust bucket called the Belligerence. So clutching our C minus paperwork from the simulation deck debacle, we headed for the reception area.
Here at least a friendly face and a potentially friendlier thorax, wow, the antennae on the receptionist were something to see. Sor’ Kur was of course a Thri Kreen like myself, clad in gold* that indicated significant status, her four shapely arms continued filing and operating systems throughout our discussions even as she issued us all with three sets of (lowly red) uniforms.** It made a change to be able to speak to someone rather than simply enter their mind.
*Kirk Gold from Dulux
**Expendable red, fresh from Dulux
After the visit to sky dock our schedule included collection of weapons from a Mr Blip and an assault course. Once changed into our uniforms* we were able to see guidelines on the floors that indicated directions to various places. Red lines showed the way to areas of that security level, and blue to areas where you needed that clearance. We had blue caps that gave us temporary access to the skydock only.
*Several telephone boxes were available
Located on the Isle of Nimbrall the base was a great many levelled tower that contained both the academy training facilities and a major port. Our backgrounds had brought us to the attention of the academy as beings with potential to join their organisation and as Queen Inesta B’ Lekta Na-Shog memorably once said, don’t look a gift Klait in the mouth.
So we travelled up to the sky dock via a stairway guarded by blue clad security, clutching our 50GP gift vouchers (or as Pablo called them for some reason, Jift vouchers.) Pablo, possibly because of his undoubtedly criminal background seemed very fixated on the punishment system in operation, which we learned from several sources essentially involved a simple chain of events: Do something wrong; Get disintegrated. We had this story several times including from our next mentors, the comedy gnome double act of Kip and Pick. They sound disturbingly like refugees from clown space.
The two purple clad (that made them officers unbelievably enough) gnomes showed us round. The dock was impressive with several large ships and several giant space faring creature ships.* These leviathans complete with tentacles in some cases were impressive to say the least, resembling aquatic nautilus like creatures.
*Possibly Vorlons
So Dick and Dom took us aboard a galleon and showed us the heart of the ships system, the spelljammer chair, for which you need magical ability, intellectual strength and an arse for interface purposes. Of course the elf is about three hundred years old and the gif is an astral drifter whilst my own wild spacer background hardly means this is news to any of us. Anyway the chair hummed with power and not only allows navigation but generates the ships important systems such as air and gravity, but of course, as a navigator, I know that.
Pablo went on a lot with a lot of hypothetical questions about smuggling which seemed a bit random, it was almost as if he had witnessed some illicit activity going on in the dock, possibly involving an officer conducting suspicious transactions with a merchant. Ridiculous. Anyway this led to another round of discussion about disintegrations which were becoming rather tiresome. Oh well, this is K’Mak N’Vak-Kack (call me Mac*) signing off. As Queen G’Haris M’Niac-Slabba used to say, ‘Things can only get better’
*I did originally invite other species to call me Kack but this seemed to cause suspicious levels of merriment at my expense
22.4.23
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