Thread Closed
Late Night, Quarters of Captain Holskstymm Faezsyngson, The Gallant
"Recognition of meritorious service in enforcing the laws of Limsa." Holskstymm already knew what was on the letter, and hardly needed to have it read aloud to him. But Captain Mulliner was only recently lettered, and vocalizing was necessary for him to finish its contents. Holskstymm hardly minded, as it gave him enough time to refill his tumbler of grog. The harder stuff was always available in-port, but the Captain preferred his watered-down when he was in harbor. His habits meant he was often tapped to adjudicate a court martial, and keeping a clear head - clearer than the average captain at any rate - demanded he develop a taste for the tasteless.
"-hereby removing you from command of the Gallant - " Mulliner continued, his brow furrowing in confusion. Another reason Holskstymm didn't mind the time spent: Jambert took in what he was reading. Really took it in and took the time to process it all with the obsessive intensity of someone new to his letters. Put him on a court chair and he would take a bell to figure out the documents, but come up with the right of it in a tenth the time. It was a damn pity so often "the right of it" had nothing to do with standing legal precedent.
"-appointing you to the rank of Second Storm Commander, Holsk this is incredible!" Jambert dropped the letter with an air of obvious excitement. Drink in hand, Holskstymm gestured for him to keep going. Nodding, he put the letter to his eyes again. "With the intent of assisting in the refinement and oversight of Maelstrom legal codes. The Admiral hopes that with your expertise-"
Holskstymm held up his hand. "You can stop there," he said, plucking the parchment from Jambert's fingers and placing it between them at his desk, the words dimmed as they drew further away from candlelight. "The rest is all just praise, praise, highlighting the seriousness of the recommendation, praise, and a well-wishing conclusion. Standard Admiralty copy."
"You're downplaying it. Come now, we've talked about this: Never late for a martial summons, always prepared - and the research on the Morris case, that was a perfect compromise. Commodore didn't like it, but swive Haelstyrmm. And the hearing - "
"You weren't there for the hearing," snapped Holskstymm. "Right conclusion, but that was the only thing right about it. Guolwyda shows up -" Jambert winced, and Holskstymm pressed on before the younger captain could object. "She shows up late, and it'd've been better had she never shown at all. Damned fine sailor but she should never be in a martial, just picks the most convenient result. Spahro Llorn appears to harangue the accused before the guards can chase her out, and you know all of that is going to be on record in the Lantern any bell now."
Holskstymm drank, and drank deep. The grog being what it was, this gave him little more than motivation to keep griping. "And on top of that, on top of that, the court is packed with adventurers-come-captains pretending as hard as they can that they have the right of it, that they're sure the Commodore did them ill, never mind the proof, and anything they did was just an amusing peccadillo!"
Jambert unhooked a small flask from his hip, proffering it over Holskstymm's desk. He waved this away, and Jambert took a swig from it instead. "About that, is Captain Wanngeimdottir recovering well?"
"From a lance in the side? About as well as you'd expect. Had to forego her testimony while the chirurgeons looked in on her, but there's a written statement in the briefs." Holskstymm squinted, his spectacles crinkling into his brow. "You haven't been to see her yet?"
Jambert shook his head. "No, I was in Vesper overseeing Problemsolver's arrangement with the Commodore. Can't believe the bastard got it signed by the Admiral after the way he turned on the fleet, but her word is her word I suppose. And there's nothing good about anyone using the Spot - "
"Rather not change the subject just yet, Captain. You could be seeing her now." Jambert seemed to shrink in his seat. "But you're here patting my back instead." The Midlander always looked small to Holskstymm, but now he seemed to shrivel to half the chair's height. "Just ask her when she's well, would you? Different squadrons, same rank, there's no conflict."
"Isn't she making Commodore? Taking the 9th Squadron?" Jambert's voice had both a note of curiosity and the hopeful air of someone who had found a possible excuse. Holskstymm clucked his tongue.
"Temporary. Too close to Haelstyrmm's views, you see. It'll be someone from one of the main squadrons, I'm sure. There's nothing in the codes to stop it. And you can trust me to know." Holskstymm took time to refill his tumbler until, in his opinion, Jambert had squirmed in silence long enough. "Speaking of, what did you think of the decision? Did you read the records?"
They were both well-versed in the acts of drowning men, and neither commented on the similarity as Jambert leapt on the shift in topic. "Very fair," he said, his voice rising in relief. "Very fair. The Commodore was a bastard, we both know that, but you were right about the lack of proof. And it was a good way to keep the separatists and the sympathizers happy, moving him out of the squadron like that."
"Mm." Holskstymm drummed his fingers on his desk, wrinkling his mouth. "It's been nagging at me, though. Couldn't put my finger on it for a while, but - " He raised his eyebrows. "If the Sisters had gotten this mess on their hands - no Maelstrom, not like this. Say more like before the Admiral took control. They get this mess on their hands. What do they do?"
Jambert thought about this, but not for long. "Kill the Commodore, most likely. Take it on faith they've got the right man and that he stole from Limsans by withdrawing support, an' go from there."
"Did he, though? Are the people on Gloam Limsan? They've made it quite plain, I think - they're far from Limsan or don't want to be. Could argue they stole from Limsan when they ran off with Limsan ships and signed on with Garlemald, regardless of how it turned out. So are the Sisters going to slay the Commodore or cheer him on when he leaves Gloam to die? Assuming they didn't sneak onto the island and slay the leaders of the whole thing themselves."
"If he left Gloam to die," Jambert corrected.
"Yes, if," said Holskstymm with a roll of his eyes. "No proof, and the logs show he advised Problemsolver to send word. We care about that. You think they'd do the same? Or just take him and put the knives to him until he told them what they wanted? It's the Sisters, after all, it's the sort of thing they would have done, in ages past."
"Depended on the guildmaster, I suppose," said Jambert with a shrug, and that only prompted Holskstymm to smack his tumbler upon his desk.
"Yes. Exactly. That's exactly right. It depended on the guildmaster. Jacke might have his heart in the right place, for what's that worth, but there could be some right bastards leading the Sisters in ages past, and they'd have a bloodier take on this. An' we're supposed to be better than that. Keep it fair, set up a system so everybody knows what the crimes are, what the punishments are. No more fuzziness like the Code, which was never more than a fancy way to say 'No slaves, an' whatever else displeases the head of the Sisters.'"Â
He picked up the letter between them, waving it in Jambert's face. "They tell me this, that this is what they want, and I know, Jambert, I know in my gut, that when recommendation one is 'Stop every damned captain from sitting on a trial just because they happen to be around at the time,' there'll be kicking and moaning from the squadrons and command.
"Oh, some'll be happy - Guolwyda will be glad to never see the inside of a court again, and the sentiment's mutual, but most? The whole damned thing's a substitute, a system people have found comfortable. 'Let the captains interpret the laws as best they may for the Maelstrom.' Just like the Code, but with an official veneer and a Maelstrom flag. It can't stand. Not if we really want to move past a mass of pirates. Not if we want this to last beyond the day Merlwyb falls dead in her quarters."
Both of them paused as they considered the image of the Admiral on her deathbed. Without speaking, both of them gave the possibility of death triumphing about even odds.
"My point," said Holskstymm, "Is that even after all that, what if that was the wrong call? The Code might have Haelstyrmm dead for something he didn't do, but he is a bastard, and we all know it. This recommendation, it hangs on that being the right call, on proving this is a better way. All it takes, now, is for the Commodore to trip up, and I'll have traditionalists saying 'I told you so' and pushing us back to the old days where we thought the contents of our bowels were good judges of right and wrong. And I still have to sell them on this.
"Why bother with of all this?" Holskstymm asked with a deflated air. "Laws with no principles behind them but a captain's gut. Ban privateering, but become furious when pirates quit - not even sailing anymore, they just quit - but not on our terms. There's this stumbling block we can't get past, and it's not freedom, not quite. Disunity, perhaps." He folded over his desk and contented himself with inspecting the bottom of his drink.
Jambert could only offer an encouraging smile. That was what he did, in the end. He'd heard Holskstymm rail about difficult judgments in the past, and always there was the damn smile. "I'm sure you'll figure out the right of it. You can sell them on it."
"You, mayhaps. I can't. Room in the post they gave me for an advocate if you want it, when you're at shore. I'd be inclined to offer it - " Jambert raised his eyes, and his smile widened. "But you have to talk to Torrael."
The smile collapsed with the speed and force of a pugil with a popped bladder. "You're a monster," Jambert groused.
"I don't know, I think it's a fair call."
"Recognition of meritorious service in enforcing the laws of Limsa." Holskstymm already knew what was on the letter, and hardly needed to have it read aloud to him. But Captain Mulliner was only recently lettered, and vocalizing was necessary for him to finish its contents. Holskstymm hardly minded, as it gave him enough time to refill his tumbler of grog. The harder stuff was always available in-port, but the Captain preferred his watered-down when he was in harbor. His habits meant he was often tapped to adjudicate a court martial, and keeping a clear head - clearer than the average captain at any rate - demanded he develop a taste for the tasteless.
"-hereby removing you from command of the Gallant - " Mulliner continued, his brow furrowing in confusion. Another reason Holskstymm didn't mind the time spent: Jambert took in what he was reading. Really took it in and took the time to process it all with the obsessive intensity of someone new to his letters. Put him on a court chair and he would take a bell to figure out the documents, but come up with the right of it in a tenth the time. It was a damn pity so often "the right of it" had nothing to do with standing legal precedent.
"-appointing you to the rank of Second Storm Commander, Holsk this is incredible!" Jambert dropped the letter with an air of obvious excitement. Drink in hand, Holskstymm gestured for him to keep going. Nodding, he put the letter to his eyes again. "With the intent of assisting in the refinement and oversight of Maelstrom legal codes. The Admiral hopes that with your expertise-"
Holskstymm held up his hand. "You can stop there," he said, plucking the parchment from Jambert's fingers and placing it between them at his desk, the words dimmed as they drew further away from candlelight. "The rest is all just praise, praise, highlighting the seriousness of the recommendation, praise, and a well-wishing conclusion. Standard Admiralty copy."
"You're downplaying it. Come now, we've talked about this: Never late for a martial summons, always prepared - and the research on the Morris case, that was a perfect compromise. Commodore didn't like it, but swive Haelstyrmm. And the hearing - "
"You weren't there for the hearing," snapped Holskstymm. "Right conclusion, but that was the only thing right about it. Guolwyda shows up -" Jambert winced, and Holskstymm pressed on before the younger captain could object. "She shows up late, and it'd've been better had she never shown at all. Damned fine sailor but she should never be in a martial, just picks the most convenient result. Spahro Llorn appears to harangue the accused before the guards can chase her out, and you know all of that is going to be on record in the Lantern any bell now."
Holskstymm drank, and drank deep. The grog being what it was, this gave him little more than motivation to keep griping. "And on top of that, on top of that, the court is packed with adventurers-come-captains pretending as hard as they can that they have the right of it, that they're sure the Commodore did them ill, never mind the proof, and anything they did was just an amusing peccadillo!"
Jambert unhooked a small flask from his hip, proffering it over Holskstymm's desk. He waved this away, and Jambert took a swig from it instead. "About that, is Captain Wanngeimdottir recovering well?"
"From a lance in the side? About as well as you'd expect. Had to forego her testimony while the chirurgeons looked in on her, but there's a written statement in the briefs." Holskstymm squinted, his spectacles crinkling into his brow. "You haven't been to see her yet?"
Jambert shook his head. "No, I was in Vesper overseeing Problemsolver's arrangement with the Commodore. Can't believe the bastard got it signed by the Admiral after the way he turned on the fleet, but her word is her word I suppose. And there's nothing good about anyone using the Spot - "
"Rather not change the subject just yet, Captain. You could be seeing her now." Jambert seemed to shrink in his seat. "But you're here patting my back instead." The Midlander always looked small to Holskstymm, but now he seemed to shrivel to half the chair's height. "Just ask her when she's well, would you? Different squadrons, same rank, there's no conflict."
"Isn't she making Commodore? Taking the 9th Squadron?" Jambert's voice had both a note of curiosity and the hopeful air of someone who had found a possible excuse. Holskstymm clucked his tongue.
"Temporary. Too close to Haelstyrmm's views, you see. It'll be someone from one of the main squadrons, I'm sure. There's nothing in the codes to stop it. And you can trust me to know." Holskstymm took time to refill his tumbler until, in his opinion, Jambert had squirmed in silence long enough. "Speaking of, what did you think of the decision? Did you read the records?"
They were both well-versed in the acts of drowning men, and neither commented on the similarity as Jambert leapt on the shift in topic. "Very fair," he said, his voice rising in relief. "Very fair. The Commodore was a bastard, we both know that, but you were right about the lack of proof. And it was a good way to keep the separatists and the sympathizers happy, moving him out of the squadron like that."
"Mm." Holskstymm drummed his fingers on his desk, wrinkling his mouth. "It's been nagging at me, though. Couldn't put my finger on it for a while, but - " He raised his eyebrows. "If the Sisters had gotten this mess on their hands - no Maelstrom, not like this. Say more like before the Admiral took control. They get this mess on their hands. What do they do?"
Jambert thought about this, but not for long. "Kill the Commodore, most likely. Take it on faith they've got the right man and that he stole from Limsans by withdrawing support, an' go from there."
"Did he, though? Are the people on Gloam Limsan? They've made it quite plain, I think - they're far from Limsan or don't want to be. Could argue they stole from Limsan when they ran off with Limsan ships and signed on with Garlemald, regardless of how it turned out. So are the Sisters going to slay the Commodore or cheer him on when he leaves Gloam to die? Assuming they didn't sneak onto the island and slay the leaders of the whole thing themselves."
"If he left Gloam to die," Jambert corrected.
"Yes, if," said Holskstymm with a roll of his eyes. "No proof, and the logs show he advised Problemsolver to send word. We care about that. You think they'd do the same? Or just take him and put the knives to him until he told them what they wanted? It's the Sisters, after all, it's the sort of thing they would have done, in ages past."
"Depended on the guildmaster, I suppose," said Jambert with a shrug, and that only prompted Holskstymm to smack his tumbler upon his desk.
"Yes. Exactly. That's exactly right. It depended on the guildmaster. Jacke might have his heart in the right place, for what's that worth, but there could be some right bastards leading the Sisters in ages past, and they'd have a bloodier take on this. An' we're supposed to be better than that. Keep it fair, set up a system so everybody knows what the crimes are, what the punishments are. No more fuzziness like the Code, which was never more than a fancy way to say 'No slaves, an' whatever else displeases the head of the Sisters.'"Â
He picked up the letter between them, waving it in Jambert's face. "They tell me this, that this is what they want, and I know, Jambert, I know in my gut, that when recommendation one is 'Stop every damned captain from sitting on a trial just because they happen to be around at the time,' there'll be kicking and moaning from the squadrons and command.
"Oh, some'll be happy - Guolwyda will be glad to never see the inside of a court again, and the sentiment's mutual, but most? The whole damned thing's a substitute, a system people have found comfortable. 'Let the captains interpret the laws as best they may for the Maelstrom.' Just like the Code, but with an official veneer and a Maelstrom flag. It can't stand. Not if we really want to move past a mass of pirates. Not if we want this to last beyond the day Merlwyb falls dead in her quarters."
Both of them paused as they considered the image of the Admiral on her deathbed. Without speaking, both of them gave the possibility of death triumphing about even odds.
"My point," said Holskstymm, "Is that even after all that, what if that was the wrong call? The Code might have Haelstyrmm dead for something he didn't do, but he is a bastard, and we all know it. This recommendation, it hangs on that being the right call, on proving this is a better way. All it takes, now, is for the Commodore to trip up, and I'll have traditionalists saying 'I told you so' and pushing us back to the old days where we thought the contents of our bowels were good judges of right and wrong. And I still have to sell them on this.
"Why bother with of all this?" Holskstymm asked with a deflated air. "Laws with no principles behind them but a captain's gut. Ban privateering, but become furious when pirates quit - not even sailing anymore, they just quit - but not on our terms. There's this stumbling block we can't get past, and it's not freedom, not quite. Disunity, perhaps." He folded over his desk and contented himself with inspecting the bottom of his drink.
Jambert could only offer an encouraging smile. That was what he did, in the end. He'd heard Holskstymm rail about difficult judgments in the past, and always there was the damn smile. "I'm sure you'll figure out the right of it. You can sell them on it."
"You, mayhaps. I can't. Room in the post they gave me for an advocate if you want it, when you're at shore. I'd be inclined to offer it - " Jambert raised his eyes, and his smile widened. "But you have to talk to Torrael."
The smile collapsed with the speed and force of a pugil with a popped bladder. "You're a monster," Jambert groused.
"I don't know, I think it's a fair call."
Verad Bellveil's Profile | The Case of the Ransacked Rug | Verad's Fate Sheet
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine