Next Steps

[rassafraggin]

Back aboard the Solar Flare, safe from the swarm of minnows that might be mistaking hair for food with the ocassional chomp Martin has made a bee line for alcohol and the strong, good stuff too. Merri better have some of that lying about! He looks a tiny bit shaken. Thankful, but shaken. "Hadn't expected it to be this difficult." he mutters. "Figures, Rebma just doesn't want to be easy and have things written down on paper!" He rubs the back of his neck. "I don't know what to say, you guys." He exhales. "We need to find out which node we can do the first ritual at is the next step, I suppose. Theoretically the rituals can be done at any of the sites. If we're lucky." He parks his ass against the back of a chair in the lounge area. Martin clears his throat, "To be clear… a node not in Rebma, one of the golden circle nodes."

Quinlan does not drink, but given most of his willpower is tied to being able to think straight, that's probably not a surprise. "What do we *do* with these little….stones of erised? Do they activate the nodes or something?"

Miriam's followed along, of course, but her hand hasn't loosened its grip on her stone except when she's staring into it. And that's very often. It's certainly a very possessive grip. It's clearly hers. Her own. She doesn't even necessarily look like she's aware of how obvious an attachment there is. She's been quiet too, but that's not unusual for her.

The submarine power reserve is fully recharged as the journey takes her toward Rebma's stable western border. Beyond, there are ways through the Wild Waters which do not require the Pattern, but with the destination as yet undetermined, there is some time to discuss before navigation gets its orders. Merrisol comes to the salon after making the rounds as captain, and places some parchments on the long table, mostly related to some thinkwork he's been doing for the ailing species of kelp in the Dilwen conservatory garden. His tear stone is still somewhere in his possession, but out of sight in a proverbial effort to put it out of his mind. He contemplates the selection of tonics and liquor set out on the counter, then begins mixing up some princely favourites. "If we ascend within certain range of the surface, we might get in line with one of the three shadowpaths in the western sea… Tanus or Begma. Kitezh's is still disjointed, but there may be a re-established node or two to be found if necessary.."

Maggie enters the saloon after a moment or two more. Her stone is undoubtedly held in the hand that remains tucked into a pocket. She glances at the others, then heads for the bar. Her gait is subdued as is her habit on the submarine. Better to be a touch slower and avoid collisions in the hallways and biways of the ship. Tilting her head toward Martin, she has apparently caught the gist of the conversion, "Any reason not to begin with Begma? Might as well get that one over with." Her attention shifts to the drinks being prepared. Martin's favorites. She smiles at her husband, gaze flickering to her cousin yonder.

A fresh change of clothes! Yes, that is just what the good doctor ordered! In a fresh doublet, complete with codpiece and hose, Ashby de'Mandrake comes strutting on into the Saloon with a wild grin back in place, looking like a whole new man since that infernal stone had robbed him of some of his zest! Not missing a beat, his eyes zip over to Martin and some amusement infuses his grin then, "You might be surprised at the trouble one can find in the things written down on paper." Sidling up to that bar counter, his eyes wander in search of the array of bottles to peruse, "Could I trouble you for something… robust and complex, if you have it? A thinking drink is in order, I dare say!" A thought occurs to him and his brows knit as he looks to everyone, "What of the shadows without a node to speak of? Montevalno, for example. Does Pathi have any left after the late unfortunateness? Would the destination be an appropriate place in those cases?" His finger wags in the air as he continues his contemplation, barely waiting for an answer before continuing, "I distinctly remember her saying something about the way of dreams being helpful."

"They don't activate the nodes, they show a ritual that must be performed at a node using the scepter. Something to do with a history tie in. Your lesson learned I think sort of unlocks that ritual?" Martin's guessing here. He's not a genius at mirror magic. "We'd have to ask Vialle to see if she has any ideas. "Or Llewella, if we can find her. I don't mind where we start, Begma would be cool. I like Begma. But first we have to get one of these stones to give up the goods, which means… we have to figure out how they work." Martin sighs. "I think our best bet is to get in touch with Vialle first. Even if she doesn't know the kind of magic used herself, she will know of it or at least be able to do some research for us if she's willing. We could probably use Ryika's help too. I'm not sure what she's up to these days. It would be helpful to have another mirror mage along." He eagerly waits for Merrisol's bartending skills. He glances briefly to Miriam, "Are you alright, dear?"

Quinlan rolls his bright stone around in his fingers, like it's a kind of reflex action. "So…we study the stone and it's a test, or lesson, and if we pass, it shows us what we actually need to know to do the ritual." He takes a slow, deep breath. "….Yeah, that fits what I know of the mirror mages." He could've said "So, we have to flagellate ourselves with flails set with glass shards and cayenne peppers while singing showtunes? That checks." The tone is certainly the same.

Miriam was looking at her stone again. Intently. It does seem as though she's listening, though. At least, on and off. When Martin notes that it would be good to have another mirror mage along, it takes her a moment to tear her eyes away from it, to look at him instead with a tilted head. It may be a 'hello, your *wife* is a mirror mage' look. Granted, an amateur, but still. After that brief look, she nods and says "I'm alright."

Merrisol passes over a Rebman Royce to start Martin's evening off, checking with Maggie and Miriam before setting some Beg-o-matic coffee to brew. Quinlan gets some fox-friendly orange juice. No scurvy aboard this boat! "Suppose we pick one, before or after the visit to the Coastal Vales, and see if one of our rocks starts acting up in proximity," he suggests slowly.

Maggie nods to Merrisol, then considers her options for imbibables. Though her usual is rum, she passes on that tonight. Instead, she selects whiskey. Lifting the bottle, she considers it for a moment, then sets it down again. A glance is turned to the others, settling briefly on Martin and Miriam before drifting to Quinlan. Her smile is faint, almost whistful before her gaze drops. Instead of alcohol straight, she pours some of the whiskey she had set down before into a class with and tops it off with orange juice. Carrying that to a couch, she sinks into it and begins to sip a bit pensively before nodding, "That sounds good, Kerf. Let's do that."

Martin says, "I don't have a preference. I think Begma is a good idea. I like Begma! We could easily get to Kitezh, but perhaps a lesson would be to figure out Begma since we haven't really done very much there as a team effort. I don't even know what the shadow paths there are, anyone have any more information?" Martin gives Miriam a concerned look, then clears his throat a little. "Well, yes, of course I meant one who knew some of the more ancient rituals." Nice save! "I don't know what the rituals will entail, Quinlan. But you and I have both been through some of the strangest rituals in the past. It could be anything!" Hopefully not too crazy. "Who knows, maybe we have to knit something?" He shifts his gaze around the gathered group. He's also happily guzzling the Royce. More is probably going to be needed. "How hard can it be?"

Quinlan flicks his fingers at Martin, and the illusion of a cartoonish 'X' in red duct tape appears over Martin's mouth for a few seconds. "Seriously man, you'd think you'd know better than to jinx us like that."

"Not sure that it's gotten any easier to get to Kitezh since the first node was rebuilt. Aren't there still shadow storms off-path?" wonders Merrisol distractedly. The Beg-o-matic is huffing and fuming over the thick pot of coffee being produced, and the air scrubbers overhead are buzzing like a wakening nest of hornets for the duration. He stares upward through the steam layer, frowning. "I've been over the Begma Path a couple of times by ship, a couple of times with the Flare just skimming beneath the surface. We'll go over the node data in Ops if you want us to head that way.." He looks around, refocusing on Ashby for a moment as if just noticing the man's impeccable courtly fashion sticking out like a sore codpiece amongst the adventuring rabble. "Hrmh.. Pathi's route is still being remapped?" His gaze slides toward Maggie for confirmation. "And I'm not certain all the nodes are going to be seabound. As for Montevalno.. I seem to remember there being a port of call, but if there was ever a shadowpath, I've never sailed it." He starts to shut down the dispenser when the aroma of industrial-grade caffeine permeates the vicinity, then turns to Martin. "Whichever way we decide, it's likely there will be an added element of danger along many Paths. When the Consortium fleet was scattered by Caine's ships, word was they were able to breach the other allied realms.. Begma among them."

Maggie takes her drink; some combination of whiskey and orange juice to the side of the room. She leans there, closer to Merrisol than anyone else, but not far from anyone really. She listens to the back and forth, her gaze flickering to each as they speak until… little by little, her attention folds gently inward, following where her thoughts tend. The hand within her pocket, still encircling her stone, tightens with her focus. It is the mention of the Consortium ships and the glance from Merrisol that brings her back to the here and now. She blinks slowly a few times, then nods, "Right." Another blink, then a smile, "I mean about the path. We need to get back to it. After this, I think." She falls silent, faintly nibbling on her lower lip as her gaze fades to a more haunted or hunted glow. Shifting, she lowers her gaze, "But, maybe we are going about this thet wrong way? I mean… I don't know where it will hit, but I think that I know what my vision will be centered on."

"I am not sure the location matters but Merrisol might be right, proximity to the node *might* trigger something. Who knows." Martin tips a few drops from his now empty glass and looks at it mornfully. He gives Quinlan a smirk, "hey, it's me. good things will happen!" He nods, "I haven't been shadow traveling in a while so not sure how bad htey are but I would assume yes. I think going over node data is a good idea. Maybe Duke Ashby has information on the Montevalno node? If not, my little brother might be of some assistance there. I've actually…never been. You remember Ted?" Who can forget him, Martin! "There's also Jade… another place I've never been, at least…well not in some time. Regarding the consortium… if we run into them we'll send them scuttling." He tugs on his non assistant beard, "So, let's see what information we have on nodes and pick one?" He directs this look to Maggie, then to Ruby. "We need to have information repository about the assessible nodes, I think. I vote for Begma, personally. I'll open a vein wherever I have to to get this done if that's what I have to do. Hopefully it won't come to that." He nudges his glass to tempt a refill from his bosum buddy.

Quinlan seems fine with water, right now. Very, very fine with water. "I've been away too long, I suppose," he muses. "I'll go with whatever the plan turns out to be."

Merrisol has another Royce ready to trade for Martin's empty glass! He pauses in his wrassles with the coffee pot, however, looking up from the half-full mug to watch Maggie at length, his eyes dipping and shifting to track the little things she does that telegraph her inner preoccupations. He smiles when she does, but slowly. The question of vision specifics grabs his attention, however the main topic continues to hold general sway with the group. He grips the mug handle and draws it close to his chest, drawing in a breath of buzzy steam. "Is it something we need to be made aware of before it hits, Hotstuff? Something specifically about the sceptre..?" he asks, after listening to Martin and Quinlan for a bit. "For now, let's set our bearings toward the Begma path, but see if we can raise Lieutenant Nalwin for a sitrep on enemy activity in the area. We'll be ready at a moment's notice to divert, rather than risk threat against an existing node." Reaching out, he touches Maggie's elbow as he straightens away from the counter, indicating they should head for the bridge together.

Maggie glances over to Merrisol, her expression thoughtful, sober, certain, "Maybe? Kind of?" More slowly, with the shrug of one shoulder, "I… I think so. But I think that I need to think about it more before I go into detail." Her gaze lowers, then lifts quickly to nod to Merrisol's suggestion. Pushing from the lean, she straightens. Giving a smile to Martin, Quinlan and the others, she turns toward the hatch to head to the bridge.

While the others were talking, Miriam was content to just listen and think. And drink. She opted for something not all that boozey, but it will be boozey enough if she has a couple. Her stone remains firnly in one hand, clutched tightly when she's not staring into it. She does say "I still haven't been to most of the places nearby. It'll be nice to see some of them."

Taking on a more serious tone, Ashby nods in agreement with Merrisol's assessment of the element of danger about along the paths and other Golden Circle shadows, "I can personally attest to that. Came a bit closer than I'd like to sinking my new flagship on her maiden voyage!" He says this while leaning over the bar to snatch up a bottle of whiskey, which is then pressed into duty as he pours a good four fingers worth into a glass, turning it into a rough approximation of an infiniti pool. A quick sip siphons off enough to keep it stable and then he turns around to lean against the bar and face the group. "There's no path to speak of for Montevalno, but I do always arrive in Calestrina when I travel there. The acoustics are excellent in the Flare, so it should be no issue to get there. I could even send word ahead to prepare for our eventual arrival." They'll need a proper bit of security! A house, perhaps! Why not a party? The wine should be stockpiled! And the brandy! Who there wants to kill him? That list should be updated! The wheels in his head are turning, but a few blinks later he is back to the here and now of the conversation. "Begma it is! A wonderful people! So eccentric!"

"Begma," says Martin with a slight frown, "Is an enigma to me as I haven't done much there. I don't know anyone there either. So I suppose it is going to be a challenge. We can't simply waltz in and declare our intentions, I don't think." He accepts the other royce with a thankful look. He wonders if they are going to move to the other room to look at information as Merrisol has suggested earlier and tries to convey the silent question in his friend's direction. "You're back now, Quinlan, that's all that matters. You're always around when I need you and I appreciate it." He sips his drink and slides his gaze to Ashby. "Montevalno has no path now, did it ever? Perhaps there are dormant nodes, something to think about, anyway." To maggie he gives a light smile, "Let us know when you think appropriate, okay?" He rubs the back of his neck. "At least Begmans don't have any reason to be angry with Rebmans. Maybe that's in our favor.

Ruby is listening somewhere closeby with pursed lips and a sidelong expression for person in turn that is speaking. It's difficult, but if she keeps turning her head just so, she can keep it up. Rolling her stone in the palm of one hand and rolling her tongue around like there's peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Maggie pauses when the conversation carries on. Turning, she fades back to her leaning spot and nods, "Sure, Martin. Just let me know when you are up for a good ol' batch of speculation that might not have anything to do with anything." She offers her cousin a smile, then lets it be fore everyone before she takes a swig of her own drink.

Miriam thinks more, as the subject remains Begma, more or less. "I'll need different clothes for Begma, yes? Maggie, you'll help me find something appropriate? And anyone else who needs?" Shopping! "Or maybe you all already keep a closet full of clothes for different places." she says with a smile. "Just so you're ready. Those who can't just change their clothes as they go, I mean."

Ashby swats a hand back and forth through the air, as if he were striking away Martin's concerns about Begma like pesky flies, all the while lifting his glass for a long, slow sip. More thinking fuel. "Capitalism is easy to maneuver! Just bring enough money to distract. Call everything Science. Drink coffee and gin. And put some effort into dressing appropriately. Yes, some of those dresses for the ladies that could fit an army beneath them! It all works out, I've found!" A series of assertive nods follow this along with a raising of his glass to toast the notions before he carries right along, "No, I don't recall having ever heard of Montevalno ever having a shadowpath. The relationship to Amber has never been particularly… strong. Montevalno is a difficult shadow to truly *know*."

Merri is heading for the hatchway drink in hand, but he pauses also and turns to address Martin with a nod. "Come along to Ops when you're ready. I'll be getting us underway to enter the Path via the sea coordinates topside… naturally we won't be causing much fuss with the patrols and pickets, unless you feel we ought to announce our passing beneath." A glance at the South Fleet Rear Admiral, for that. "We'll move from node to node, see if that triggers anything… whether or not to outright perform a magic ritual there is another question entirely," he notes soberly. "Begma is… averse to wizardry, to put it simply, although the history… the… relationship.. is complicated." He frowns broodily, propped in the hatchway frame while he takes a sip of coffee. "If there's any chance that what we do will have noticeable effects along the path, we should probably give someone a headsup. Not all the details, of course… I'm still persona non grata there. What do you think, Martin? Begma has some nominal royalty, but it's the parliamentary system that controls the works. Do you want to make it an official visit?"

Martin looks thoughtfully from person to person as they speak. "Good to know, Ashby." To Miriam and maggie he smiles. "Yes, we will all dress appropriately." Then Merrisol's words give him pause. "Alright, I will." He hrmmms. "Back before I was crown prince and Regent it would have been fine to sneak in and out of Begma and do things." He shifts his gaze back and forth between Ashby and Merrisol. "Now, unfortunately, it is no longer fine. If we get caught, there could be a real political problem. We have two princesses, a DUke and Prince of Rebma, I feel it might be a huge faux pas if we do not make it an official visit, or at the very least let them know we would like to tour the nodes?" He rises. "Let's go to Ops as we discuss." He finishes off his royce.

Ruby shakes her head to Merrisol on the subject of advertising passage of the Solar Flare. Folding her arms and taking a breath, she's having to settle an internal debate regarding another visit to Begma. "Don't distract tha Navy. They need tah keep keep their eyes on tha 'orizon." She uses her caboose to bunt herself off the wall she was leaning against and offers, "Can use tha Pathfoinders as an additional ~blanket~ ex-cuse if you don't wanna worry pointy 'eads 'o why you'd wanna be in vicinity 'o their node. Could work 'and in 'and if you gonna be o-vert."

"Maggie, I think that's a great idea." Martin beams at her on their way to ops. "That will take care of Merrisol's issue. We don't especially need to be underwater for this so the Solar Flare is not essential though welcome. "I think Overt is our best chance of success, actually. People are more willing to ally with those who are forthcoming in their activities. We can tell the Begmans we are doing an experiment at the node and work in a scientific explanation and tell them it's a pathfinder mission. Pathi is a little bit easier, I have contacts there and Ruby is correct. They need to stay on the horizon so we have to make sure they know we're not a threat. I will send official notice of a tour of the Begman nodes on behalf of the Royal Pathfinders and will give the Begmans the opportunity for pomp and circumstance should they wish it." Martin scratches his chin. "Let's be careful. We're up against a lot so we don't want to tempt problems if we can avert them. We should also have some other pathfinder members with us just to be on the safe side. Let's choose one or two and meet up with the wave dancer and get ready. Merrisol, I think it's a good idea to get familiar with the nodes as we go so maybe we can stop at one or two to see if anything reacts but we may have to come back to them. I spoke with Corwin previously about this and he said he'd lend Amber's political weight behind it."

Quinlan tilts his head. "Begmans…have calmed down about mages?" he asks, hopefully. "Or do I need to keep my running shoes on?"

Once more, the Duke lifts his whiskey glass to polish off enough to make it stable enough for transport. With that essential task completed, Ashby begins the juggling act of glass, book on top of it, and now a pen with which he begins madly writing away with while walking behind the group toward Ops. Large flowing penmenship is applied liberally to the paper as he goes and the addition of a signature at the end is downright unmistakable, heralding the following act of stashing away both book and writing instrument. "The Son of Serminia will join us along the path. She's partially of Begman design, so she ought to be a welcome sight for the locals. And she carries my Begman wardrobe." It the latter fact that matters most. We all know this. "I imagine some well aimed political donations wouldn't hurt?" Stepping into Ops, his neck straightens to add an extra half an inch of height as he cranes and looks over the various duty stations. No doubt, he's looking for the largest button that begs to be pressed!

Maggie glides into Ops after Martin and Merrisol. She too has her glass with her though with sips taken along the way, it is significantly lowered by the time that they get there. Nodding to Martin, she turns aside, "I'll just contact Mr. Anderson and ask him to meet us. Though if he needs assistance getting us there, I will need to trump over." She glances toward her husband to be sure he hears the plan so far.

Ruby hinges her lower jaw forward. Eyes sheltered beneath her brows stare somewhere into the middle distance and she contemplates elaborate garments. "Avoid gettin caught oop with tha Ministries…" she echoes. The odd neck tendon twitch occurs as well.

Merrisol shakes his head for Quinlan's benefit, reiterating, "Sorcery's still considered blasphemy, Quin. As far as I can tell, visiting mages aren't exactly outlawed… but open displays, or chatting up the citizenry about it is a sure way onto the Ministry of Tourism's watchlist," he cautions with a sidelong glance at Ruby. To Martin and Maggie, he nods: "Then let's set a course for the first node, and seek to meet up with the Wave Dancer to transfer passengers. And the.. Son of Serminia..?" He looks curious about the name and nature of Ashby's flagship, before turning to issue navigational orders to his crew.

The bridge is at its usual level of humming activity, and with much more to see through the viewport now than there had been on the way to Dilwen territory. Instead of the Badlands long stretches of cold emptiness, there are rocky formations sparkling with crustacean and coral life. There are teams of prey fish and sea turtles and silver-striped tuna, catching the pelagic light off their scales and fins. The submersible dips and arcs the undersea currents along with them, chasing the sun to the west.

When on the bridge, Miriam tries to stay out of the way. People are busy in there. She's refilled her glass before following, and has steady sips from it. She did seem very pleased with the idea of getting something suitable for a princess to wear in Begma, so that should be fun for the ladies. And a formal royal visit! They might want to do some extra shopping, for that. She smiles to the idea, though pauses and goes back over the conversation before saying "Is there anything we can do about the non grata part, for Kerf? Maybe now that he has, well, an official position in Rebma they might reconsider?"

Quinlan tilts his head. "I have official positions all over the place. Hasn't really changed Begma's view of me as far as I know. But then, a mage is what I am, so it's not like it's something I can just 'not be'." He hmms, and runs his fingers through his auburn hair…and it turns black. The brilliant greens he prefers darken at the same time, to something nearer pine. "I can do something similar for Merri, if he needs or wants it. I'd have to stay nearby and it doesn't last forever, but if you think a change of appearance might help…"

Maggie turns from the wall she was facing in order to speak with Mr. Anderson via trump as Merri's status is brought up. Her gaze flashes to him first, then to Martin. The look might be significant though it is mild when it turns to Miriam and Quinlan. They each get a faintly distracted smile before she turns to make the connection with her first mate. Once that is done, she remains out of the way, speaking quietly. Orders are passed and acknowledged. Reports and updates are received.

Martin considers the visage outside the window as they pass through it and he listens to what everyone has to say. "Well, we will tell them it is a scientific experiment only those with knowledge of how the Nodes were created can perform if it comes down to it. Another ship begman in design will be welcome. Thank you, Ashby." He nods his approval of the Duke's ship. "Well, it's possible that disguise might be necessary in Merrisol's case, but there are many factors that could contribute problems. Do they know what you look like, Merrisol? And is the problem with you current or in the past? I'm sure as long as magic is not performed, Quinlan, we'll be alright. Yes, lets set the course." He nods to Merrisol. "First concern is to meet up with the wave dancer and the Serminia. Duke Ashby, please contact your ship. I will send a note back to the Queen to let her know of our intentions and brief Corwin. Political donations…good idea. lets do that, but not show favoritism to any one faction. Now, who should I send the message to Begma to let them know we are en route?"

Ruby starts making a small tour of her own around Ops, standing near her companions and being very interested in their wrist-size. Small grunts as measurements are guestimated and filed away with mental caricatures, the kind one could inexpensively afford at a carnival. Handling a precious stone in her palm and making a list. Checking it thrice. Naughty, nice, etc etc.

The notion of Ruby as Santa is missed by Maggie as she finishes her conversation with Anderson. Filing the card away, she turns to face the others. Ruby is given a nod and a smile. There is an undercurrent of caution in her movements, as she finds a place to lean. For an instant her attention floats around the room, the activity a balm and a goad. There are mysteries a-plenty in this room and her husband's status in Begma does not seem to be one. Her gaze lands on Quinlan of the dark hair and pine clothing. For just an instant she wonders about this development but then nods as the answer must be illusion of some sort. Tilting her head, she recenters her attention on Merrisol, "Mr. Anderson will drop cargo off and head to meet us. He will call if he needs me to help with travel." Her hand, now freed of the card, dips back into her pocket to close around the stone within.

Pivoting back toward Martin, Ashby dips his head on a bow. "I, and House Chantris, are both happy and proud to be of assistance in any way possible!" Lifting his glass again, he looks disappointed a moment later as it finally empties. Sighing with disappointment, he makes eye contact with the nearest passing crewperson. Thrusting the glass into his hand in passing, he accompanies this with a quick, sharp nod as if issuing an unspoken order. Handle this important thing for me! That handled, he looks to Martin and nods agreement once again, "Certainly! Consider it… already done!" Reaching up, he pats at the part of his doublet where the book from earlier rests within. "I would suggest sending word to the Subcommittee for Intershadow Relations, the King's Royal Secretary, and that we grease the harbormaster. That last one is fairly universal, really. Goes without saying!"

Merrisol and Ms. Cristholm have their heads together at the helm, plotting out new headings as the vessel approaches a broad expanse of undersea that distorts perception with colour, light and shadow. The entry to the Begman Shadowpath lays ahead, set XY coordinates upon the Amber Sea, which they must approach from the right bearing. Charting displays upon the port curving bulkhead comprised of thousands of wee lenses twinkle in frantic cogitations until their on/off patterns form a map diagram of the undersea route, showing current flow in cascading depths. Presently becoming aware of his name being bandied about and mentally backtracking to Miriam's question, Merrisol raises his head and turns abruptly to address the concern. He notes Ashby's nearby position and gives him a double-take of sorts and a questioning look, then says to the group in general, "Don't trouble yourselves over it, my friends. It's a complicated matter tied to certain decisions made by certain persons in the Past, and will be resolved in its own time. To try to speed or alter the process is to become mired in Begman bureaucracy, and… I for one am in no hurry for the Ministry of Foreign Experimentation to demand access to the Flare." His gaze is on Quinlan's startling new appearance, prompting him to add, "May not need to go to that length, depending what company we're looking to keep there. I would suggest sending your message through a pre-established royal channel such as the Amber Throne, Martin. It may trickle down to the head of government from there.."

Maggie knows that Merrisol and Ms. Cristholm plot their way through the undersea vastness but this may be the first time that she has seen the beautiful way that the Flare and her crew manage it. She is caught by the beauty of the twinkling lenses that flicker and dance to catch their course in light. Momentarily transfixed, she takes it in, sorting images and memories until, "Wow. Ripples and reflections. Refractions…" The map is an alien thing, though it tugs at emotion as though seeking echoes in the past. Familiarity tries to establish itself as nearby voices murmer. Blinking, she shakes her head to clear it, a faint smile lurking behind her eyes. No wonder her husband loves this ship. With a sigh, soft and filled with release, she faces the others, trying to regain her bearings.

Martin nods, "Good idea, Merrisol. Let me send something to Corwin. Thank you all." While the others work on getting changed, Martin busies himself sending off necessary notes to Kings and Queens and instructions to his people in Rebma.