Unification Day: the Evening Garden Party

When one finds ones self in shimmering placid waters of warmth and peace... be wary of possible sharks. Those were my thoughts preparing for the Unification Day gala that I was about to attend... only attending to make an inconspicuous meeting with the upper-crust trade contact of my cousin Misha’s. 

I have occasionally mentioned that I try to keep balance in life. I suspect the influences of a well bred, socially sophisticated mother and a no non-sense, practical Scots fisherman father (although the Earth That Was is long gone from us, many ethnicities in the Verse still define their families and demeanor by Old Earth heritage... Scots being some of the most intransigent). In balance... social history, manners and culture do not bring home the fish and calloused handed, dour, anti-social behavior does not get the best price for said fish... One must be balanced dealing in the Verse.

Thus I waxed up my moustache... curling it just so; falsely smiled in the mirror to check for anything twixt the teeth.  Meaning to be prepared for any possible U-Day scuffle, I retrieved two pair of carbo-lite knuckles and slipped them into the slit pockets of my dress kilt; in a fist fight these were a boon. As a Licensed Merchantman I was permitted the donning of “Captain’s” peaked cap. The cap, along with the sharply pleated New Melbourne Tartan, was as fancy, and the carbo-lite knuckles as formidable, as I could pull together aboard Gypsy, under the circumstances.

* * *

The Xin Caodi Gardens are beautiful at any time, resplendent in the constant half-light of star shine and glow from Djinn’s bane. Lanterns of Old Earth design surround the temple grounds.
The stunning incongruity of Alliance and Independent Flags flying to either side of the entrance, took me aback. There are moons and worlds that have outlawed the display of the Independent colors... moons where you might be beat to an inch of your life for showing partisanship one way or the other, depending on your tilt. This was unprecedented as far as I could tell... it was either a brilliant political move on someone’s part  ...or a stupendous blunder…The night was young.

For one tense moment, before being received into the grounds proper, all guests were scanned by the Security detail... there was no pat down, so my Knucks were undetected... I was announced as Captain Stewart Macpherson of the Gypsy Trader (as if Gypsy were a Cruise Liner ...and you know how I feel about being called a “Captain”) I ascended the steps with as much decorum as I could muster.

Radiant in a formal kimono of shimmering purple was the Administrator of Xin Caodi City...personally greeting the guests on arrival. I assessed this woman to be leaning far toward Brilliantly Political rather than Stupendously Blunder-headed; Administrator Yazmin Soong was not someone to be taking lightly... but the Purple of the Administrator’s silken attire left no doubt of her political leanings.

The Gardens were overflowing with color reflected by the glow of  lantern lights... aromas of rich delicacies wafted against my senses (2 weeks in the Black gives the appetite an edge)... so much silk, so many uniforms, so much shine, and the people of the Companions Guild shimmered like Fairytale princesses... so many introductions and polite banter, and surprisingly...  so many Brown coats.

* * *

As I was taking this all in (probably slack-jawed) an amazingly bright and cheerfully refined voice of greeting caused me to turn...

As balanced as I try to be... as taciturn as I endeavor to maintain… (usually I am very good at taciturn) ...I was smitten in an instant. A woman, without any doubt of the Guild, somehow managed to make fine Jade-silk and a military cut browncoat seem the height of fashion. The 静寂 set of her shimmering red hair coifed perfectly imperfect, glowing complexion and eyes as green and intense as the sea... 哦，我的上帝 oh my gawd.

Gorammit!  I Hate Being Smitten... I hate the feeling of boyish uncertainty... the blasted sense of inadequacy that comes of admiring a beauty you can never have a hope to know, or to hold... I did not hear her name, I was that mesmerized. I barely heard her words of greeting. I have no recall of what I said... I hope it was mechanically rote politeness... I can only hope. I remember wandering off in the direction of the food...

This unsettled me. Companions... oh, they know, oooh yes they must know when they have made their mark. I searched inside & within for my missing taciturn, then resorted to some second hand aloof... this ruined my appetite, I wanted a whiskey immediately, but instead went through the motions of procuring some of the delectable food offered, picked at it... still wondering what was wrong with me, stealing a glance in the direction of... Ms. Whatzername with the sea green eyes. 

Duty to business at hand, if you can call it that, would have to save me from abject foolishness: I was here to make a business contact... nothing more...  Stay Absolutely Focused...   Business first, Whiskey second... Yes...

“Gorramit she looked at me again!”

Gawd what a beauty... her charm and grace amongst the crowd... her demurity... (Alright, I made up the last word) ...and what was she “Saying” so boldly-quietly by wearing Core-World silk with the crisp Independent style Browncoat? “I think she caught you watching her” and “you don’t even know her name you idiot”…gawd, I Hate Being Smitten! 

When I began to believe there was no hope for me... I was gratefully yanked back to reality by the greeting of a bald-pated, sharp-featured, Core-styled aristocrat, attempting introduction. “Captain Stewart Macpherson I presume! My name is Henry Petras”

Acknowledgments... proper introduction, confirmation of connection to my cousin Misha... it all came quickly and easily. On the plus side... my state of discombobulation over meeting that Companion, served to make me appear hard-headed and disinterested to this Henry Petras; this is a good stance to take when you are a seller... looking Not Desperate to Sell is a difficult thing to fake. Slipping into business mode had leveled me... I was back in balance if not outright control.

* * *

After Petras and I had slipped away for our discussion and made arraignments, I was able to ease my mind, and lubricate my brainpan with some 12-year-old Harvestian Single-Malt. I may have made myself misunderstood at one point and had to attempt to smooth things with one Captain Vilalura.

Browncoats can get their feathers ruffed very easily on U-Day, even by well meaning non-combatants like myself. Pappy, my brother, and I had taken risks to help pass food aid to the Independent side during the conflict; I say this not to gain your approbation or derision... only make you aware that there were many who eventually understood the Independent view. We supported in what ways we could, but New Melbourne was a hard and fast Alliance held world... propaganda and truth were a cloudy soup in those days.

I was deep in thoughts of this sort... stifling the desire to re-approach the Companion woman who had so gotten to me...“chalk it up to- too long in the Black on yer own Laddie” said the voice in my head

Thus ruminating on the dwindling whiskey in my glass, wondering if I should take a refill or make my way back to the Gypsy.

I looked over at the table next and saw Captain Lazarus of the Du Li, who looked as out of place as I felt. We struck up a conversation... liberally topping up our crystal tumblers with the good stuff, we commenced chewing on the meaning of U-Day, shared a few lighter memories of the war years without actually talking specifics. Then our talk slipped to mutual Skipper-speak, complaining of moorage fees and shady places to go and those to be avoided. Commiserating like a pair of fish out of their accustomed ocean, Lazarus and I parted on good terms.

During the conversation with Captain Lazarus (I use Captain respectfully here as the title is normally intend) I noticed more than a few eyes fall on the pair of us chattin’ away... One woman in Alliance cut uniform seemed to take special note. I was determined to put the ki-bash on any speculation of shady dealings, so I asked Ms. Uniform to dance. She made excuses about the height of her heels and I made excuses about the quantity of single-malt consumed... we took a few of turns around the floor... enough for me to find out she was the First officer of that monster, The Jokers Wild.

Rosa Santana was her name... and all excuses aside she danced well yet had the balance and tone of a panther under her svelte military tunic and skirt. I did not want to cross her, any more than I wanted Gypsy Trader to attract the attention of the Joker. I hoped that dancing with a Uniform would put any snoops off the scent of Gypsy Trader being anything but on the Square.

Dance and good liquor not withstanding it was nearing time to return to Gypsy...but before departing, I think the whiskey had fortified me to a degree of no longer caring what the upper-crust thought of “Skipper Macpherson”

With whiskey enabling bravado, I addressed "That-Beauty-I -Was-so-Bloody-Intrigued-With"...whose name I had failed to hear the first time...

“Dear Lady, (that’ll work) could I prevail upon you.... (I wanted to ask her to dance just one dance that I would remember for probably the rest of my life)... to properly introduce me to the "Mayor of Xin Caodi.”

I maintained some equilibrium through these niceties, formal introduction to Administrator Yazmin Soong... it never hurts to have important people hear your name under relatively pleasant circumstances.

Then as luck would have it… somehow, some way, in a turn of laughing, lilting conversation... the Companion whom my thoughts and eyes had been on all night, was addressed by Soong, using the Companion's full name: The amazingly Non-Companionesque handle of Imrhein Fargis!

Somehow... a name like Imrhein Fargis levels the mind and heart of the Smitten Man. I recovered enough of myself to be able to speak on more balanced terms... She was NOT Angelicus Lu Wei Gossamer-fluff or some such! Make no mistake… The woman is a beauty, she’s out of my league, she’s grace personified in silk and brown twill... but there was something matter of fact about a woman with the name of Imrhein Fargis. Someone you might even be able to deal with… had she hinted at the work I do with Gypsy-Trader? ... I was muddy-headed, given the better quality hooch and the evening I was having... Business?

...and before I left the party she gave me her Wave-code.

Cheese and crackers... “it was ‘just business’... right? “ ...but I may possibly see her again... uhhmm regarding… Business?

“ 你瞧，星星也亮 , 'how the stars shine'...Imrhein Fargis gave me her wave-code.”