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rainbowfic2015-01-29 08:24 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2015-01-29 08:24 pm
Alice Blue #16, Cinnabar #8, Patriarch Purple #7
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Weighing the Risk
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Alice Blue #16. you're mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are., Cinnabar #8. Philosopher's stone, Patriarch Purple #7. capo
Supplies and Materials: oils, novelty beads (into the impossible), yarn, beading wire, glitter ("You don't always win your battles, but it's good to know you fought." – Lauren Bacall)
Word Count: 1408
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Taz, Dallu, Kes
Warnings: Discussion of war/naval violence and likely impending death.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Taz pushed the final pin into the map, then turned back to Kes and Dallu. “Well? What are you thinkin’?”
Her sister and her lover exchanged a look, and Dallu spoke first. “I can maneuver us into position, beloved, yes.”
“Good.” But that was only half the question, and not the more important part. “Kes?”
She stared at the map. “Taz, this is madness. It’ll be hard as hell to pull off. They have numbers and arms on their side. And, sure, they ain’t fieldin’ mages, but they can still do more damage than maybe you’re realizin’. And the closest reinforcements we might call in are too far, workin’ the blockade.”
Taz knew this. She knew all of this. And Kes was right, to a point. “We got their Admiral.”
“Which means he ain’t callin’ the shots anymore.”
“But we know how they think,” she insisted. “We know how they plan. We know how they maneuver. We know his gods-damned standin’ orders for attack.”
“We don’t know if they have a brilliant young Captain willin’ to suspend those orders and use her own damn brain,” she shot back. “This whole plan is one step up from certain death, and the only thing givin’ us that step is your charisma and your luck.”
“I’m fairly certain,” Dallu interrupted mildly, “that they have no one like you, beloved. I believe you can pull this off. Of course,” he added, before Kes could reassert her objections, “it is risky. Kes is right. It is more than likely that, even if everything goes exactly to plan, the best it possibly could, we’ll face heavy casualties.”
The Captain grimaced and turned back to her map. They were right, both of ‘em, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought it through before Kes mentioned it. Still, one thing to consider in her private thoughts, another entirely to have it laid out so bald before her, out loud, by the people she trusted most. “So. It’s a question of weighin’ the risk. We can do it, but that don’t mean we should.”
“Yes,” he replied.
Kes let out a breath behind her and said nothing.
After a long moment, Taz nodded once, and headed for the door. “Time to take this to the deck. Kes, let ‘em know.”
Her sister nodded, and with a nudge of wind, rang the general assembly bell--once for attention, twice to gather. She stilled it before it rang a third time, for combat.
When the whole crew had gathered to hear their Captain’s announcement, Taz climbed a few feet up in the rigging, to where all could see her and she could see all. They were murmuring amongst themselves, which was to be expected when the unexpected occurred. “Everyone, hear me,” she called, and slowly the noise died down.
“I got a plan,” she started. “I got a plan, and if we pull it off, we take out the rest of the enemy navy command. We already got their Admiral, their highest officer, and we know where the rest are gatherin’. With one strike, we can cripple their resistance, their supply--everythin’ a navy does for a continental power. Dallu says he can get us where we need to be, and I say we can pull it off.”
There was scattered cheering from the ranks, and she smiled, but she freed a hand and held it up for silence.
“I say we can pull it off, and Dallu says we can be in position, but Kes says it’s a risk, and not a small one. And Kes ain’t wrong, not by a long shot. Chances are, my friends, if you follow me into this whirlwind, we ain’t ever comin’ out. If you follow me, chances are this’ll be our last adventure.”
She paused, and she had their dead-quiet, earnest, worried, and loyal attention. Not an easy feat, even for a Captain who had the respect earned by a meteoric rise and a damned impressive success rate. Not an easy feat, even for a Captain with a reputation for pulling brilliant victories out of ventures with risks calculated against impossible odds.
She could read their faces, read their eyes. If Captain Taz Hantree, who brings gold from every damn thing she touches, thinks this might be the end…
“My friends, you’ve followed me to nine kinds of hell and back again, on sea and river alike. Some of you have been with me since before my command, since I claimed desperation and led you into Heartwood.” A shiver at that, and not just from her crew. “I know you’re loyal, and I’m damn grateful to each and every one of you. So I’m not givin’ any orders here. I’m makin’ a request--and, with it, an offer. Anyone who doesn’t want this, who thinks the risk outweighs the reward, I’m offerin’ release.”
That earned her a surprised buzz from the crew. Release was a rare bird, usually given to an individual when there was some major personality conflict with another crew member or three, or even the Captain. Of course, smart Captains balanced the personalities as well as the skills of their crews, and didn’t sign when they thought it might be likely. But things happened--people fell in love then fell apart, or someone insulted somebody’s close-kin, or something of that sort. Or sometimes it weren’t an unworkable presence, but an unworkable absence--a sailor took a shine to a member of another Captain’s crew, and wanted to transfer to be with their lover. Release freed a person from their ties to their ship and Captain, but left ‘em open to join another crew--it wasn’t retirement, and it wasn’t disgrace, and it wasn’t transfer to a new and closer-related command. It was just…release.
And only in times of outright war was a Captain authorized to offer a general release to an entire crew.
“I’m offerin’ release,” she repeated, a little louder. “I’ll give the papers to prove it ain’t a breach, signed and sealed and everythin’ in order, to anyone who asks. And if we survive it, you’ll all be welcome back to my crew, if you want, as if you’d never left.” The crew slowly quieted again. “Anyone who wants to stay with me, go to port. Anyone who wants release, go to starboard.”
They milled around for a few moments, and she held her breath. To pull this off, she needed at least a third of them to stay, and she wasn’t sure that was a guarantee. True, they’d followed her into all kinds of danger and she’d always led them back out again, but Kes was right. This was different. And some of ‘em had family, kids, back on the Islands. And some of ‘em were close to retirement. There were all kinds of reasons they might not want to come, and it had nothing to do with loyalty or cowardice.
When they stopped and settled, she could’ve fallen off the rigging for relief. A full three quarters of her crew was clustered to the port side of the deck. “Thank you,” she said. “All of you. Those of you who’re stayin’, we’ll be movin’ into place within the next twelve hours. As your watches end, those of you who are leavin’ come to me for your release letters. I’ll be sendin’ His Nibs with you for safekeepin’.” She breathed in and out, and grinned at them. “Now, back to your business. We’ve still a ship to run in the meantime.”
They scattered back to their usual routines, and she climbed down.
“You pulled it off,” Kes said.
“Yeah. The easy part, anyway.” She’d never had any trouble getting people to follow her, after all.
Getting them to survive it, on the other hand…
“Kes, make sure you’re stocked. Dallu, do what’s needful.” Her nearest and dearest nodded and went to their work.
Taz herself took a breath, felt the sea and the sun on her face, and felt her heart stir. Sure, it might be her last adventure--but if it was, she had her loyal crew, her sister and her Dallu, her beloved Morning Glory, and, with all of that, it wouldn’t be such a bad end.
Grinning to herself, she went to check their stockpile of weapons. Glorious end it might be, but she’d beaten the odds before. Like hell she was gonna go to her possible fate without a fight.
Story: Weighing the Risk
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Alice Blue #16. you're mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are., Cinnabar #8. Philosopher's stone, Patriarch Purple #7. capo
Supplies and Materials: oils, novelty beads (into the impossible), yarn, beading wire, glitter ("You don't always win your battles, but it's good to know you fought." – Lauren Bacall)
Word Count: 1408
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Taz, Dallu, Kes
Warnings: Discussion of war/naval violence and likely impending death.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Taz pushed the final pin into the map, then turned back to Kes and Dallu. “Well? What are you thinkin’?”
Her sister and her lover exchanged a look, and Dallu spoke first. “I can maneuver us into position, beloved, yes.”
“Good.” But that was only half the question, and not the more important part. “Kes?”
She stared at the map. “Taz, this is madness. It’ll be hard as hell to pull off. They have numbers and arms on their side. And, sure, they ain’t fieldin’ mages, but they can still do more damage than maybe you’re realizin’. And the closest reinforcements we might call in are too far, workin’ the blockade.”
Taz knew this. She knew all of this. And Kes was right, to a point. “We got their Admiral.”
“Which means he ain’t callin’ the shots anymore.”
“But we know how they think,” she insisted. “We know how they plan. We know how they maneuver. We know his gods-damned standin’ orders for attack.”
“We don’t know if they have a brilliant young Captain willin’ to suspend those orders and use her own damn brain,” she shot back. “This whole plan is one step up from certain death, and the only thing givin’ us that step is your charisma and your luck.”
“I’m fairly certain,” Dallu interrupted mildly, “that they have no one like you, beloved. I believe you can pull this off. Of course,” he added, before Kes could reassert her objections, “it is risky. Kes is right. It is more than likely that, even if everything goes exactly to plan, the best it possibly could, we’ll face heavy casualties.”
The Captain grimaced and turned back to her map. They were right, both of ‘em, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought it through before Kes mentioned it. Still, one thing to consider in her private thoughts, another entirely to have it laid out so bald before her, out loud, by the people she trusted most. “So. It’s a question of weighin’ the risk. We can do it, but that don’t mean we should.”
“Yes,” he replied.
Kes let out a breath behind her and said nothing.
After a long moment, Taz nodded once, and headed for the door. “Time to take this to the deck. Kes, let ‘em know.”
Her sister nodded, and with a nudge of wind, rang the general assembly bell--once for attention, twice to gather. She stilled it before it rang a third time, for combat.
When the whole crew had gathered to hear their Captain’s announcement, Taz climbed a few feet up in the rigging, to where all could see her and she could see all. They were murmuring amongst themselves, which was to be expected when the unexpected occurred. “Everyone, hear me,” she called, and slowly the noise died down.
“I got a plan,” she started. “I got a plan, and if we pull it off, we take out the rest of the enemy navy command. We already got their Admiral, their highest officer, and we know where the rest are gatherin’. With one strike, we can cripple their resistance, their supply--everythin’ a navy does for a continental power. Dallu says he can get us where we need to be, and I say we can pull it off.”
There was scattered cheering from the ranks, and she smiled, but she freed a hand and held it up for silence.
“I say we can pull it off, and Dallu says we can be in position, but Kes says it’s a risk, and not a small one. And Kes ain’t wrong, not by a long shot. Chances are, my friends, if you follow me into this whirlwind, we ain’t ever comin’ out. If you follow me, chances are this’ll be our last adventure.”
She paused, and she had their dead-quiet, earnest, worried, and loyal attention. Not an easy feat, even for a Captain who had the respect earned by a meteoric rise and a damned impressive success rate. Not an easy feat, even for a Captain with a reputation for pulling brilliant victories out of ventures with risks calculated against impossible odds.
She could read their faces, read their eyes. If Captain Taz Hantree, who brings gold from every damn thing she touches, thinks this might be the end…
“My friends, you’ve followed me to nine kinds of hell and back again, on sea and river alike. Some of you have been with me since before my command, since I claimed desperation and led you into Heartwood.” A shiver at that, and not just from her crew. “I know you’re loyal, and I’m damn grateful to each and every one of you. So I’m not givin’ any orders here. I’m makin’ a request--and, with it, an offer. Anyone who doesn’t want this, who thinks the risk outweighs the reward, I’m offerin’ release.”
That earned her a surprised buzz from the crew. Release was a rare bird, usually given to an individual when there was some major personality conflict with another crew member or three, or even the Captain. Of course, smart Captains balanced the personalities as well as the skills of their crews, and didn’t sign when they thought it might be likely. But things happened--people fell in love then fell apart, or someone insulted somebody’s close-kin, or something of that sort. Or sometimes it weren’t an unworkable presence, but an unworkable absence--a sailor took a shine to a member of another Captain’s crew, and wanted to transfer to be with their lover. Release freed a person from their ties to their ship and Captain, but left ‘em open to join another crew--it wasn’t retirement, and it wasn’t disgrace, and it wasn’t transfer to a new and closer-related command. It was just…release.
And only in times of outright war was a Captain authorized to offer a general release to an entire crew.
“I’m offerin’ release,” she repeated, a little louder. “I’ll give the papers to prove it ain’t a breach, signed and sealed and everythin’ in order, to anyone who asks. And if we survive it, you’ll all be welcome back to my crew, if you want, as if you’d never left.” The crew slowly quieted again. “Anyone who wants to stay with me, go to port. Anyone who wants release, go to starboard.”
They milled around for a few moments, and she held her breath. To pull this off, she needed at least a third of them to stay, and she wasn’t sure that was a guarantee. True, they’d followed her into all kinds of danger and she’d always led them back out again, but Kes was right. This was different. And some of ‘em had family, kids, back on the Islands. And some of ‘em were close to retirement. There were all kinds of reasons they might not want to come, and it had nothing to do with loyalty or cowardice.
When they stopped and settled, she could’ve fallen off the rigging for relief. A full three quarters of her crew was clustered to the port side of the deck. “Thank you,” she said. “All of you. Those of you who’re stayin’, we’ll be movin’ into place within the next twelve hours. As your watches end, those of you who are leavin’ come to me for your release letters. I’ll be sendin’ His Nibs with you for safekeepin’.” She breathed in and out, and grinned at them. “Now, back to your business. We’ve still a ship to run in the meantime.”
They scattered back to their usual routines, and she climbed down.
“You pulled it off,” Kes said.
“Yeah. The easy part, anyway.” She’d never had any trouble getting people to follow her, after all.
Getting them to survive it, on the other hand…
“Kes, make sure you’re stocked. Dallu, do what’s needful.” Her nearest and dearest nodded and went to their work.
Taz herself took a breath, felt the sea and the sun on her face, and felt her heart stir. Sure, it might be her last adventure--but if it was, she had her loyal crew, her sister and her Dallu, her beloved Morning Glory, and, with all of that, it wouldn’t be such a bad end.
Grinning to herself, she went to check their stockpile of weapons. Glorious end it might be, but she’d beaten the odds before. Like hell she was gonna go to her possible fate without a fight.