A Surprise Dinner Date (RP with Ortog)

[Ortog]

The Larklight had been home for him for a long time now. He recalled buying it on a surplus auction from a bankrupt liner company. No money was saved in the rebuilding, refurbishing and remodeling of the old Bretonian Liner in what it was today: a very versatile electronic surveillance and scouting ship equipped with the best electronic gizmos, gadgets and extras available.

He was quite sure the good Doctor would be impressed with the luxury of the living facilities, crew quarters and passengers. It was, after all, vital that the most important cargo could be delivered fast and unharmed. In this case the refugees from Leeds. The Larklight was equipped with dual docking bays, so that it carried some of his fighters and bombers. With a frown, Ortog forced himself to the matter at hand.

Why was it so important to have her approval, why and when she become a priority?

Maybe it had to do with redemption, to make some sense of his life, to be able to say he had made a difference, even a marginal one. Now even more important as he was changing his focus from Bretonia. The bitter taste of frustration still stung at him.

He had done it all, and even if he didn't seek recognition it would have been fulfilling to had some. Her Majesty's officers ignored all his efforts in the war. He fought dozens of battles, eliminated a few Valors, evacuated hundreds of refugees under the gallic navy nose, he supplied the resistance with countless tons of much needed goods, and nothing, not even a "well done". Instead, as usual, the navy of his beloved bretonia and her Majesty's officers disturbed his men constantly with meaningless minutia and red tape. He had enough and asked for a position in Kusari, one last chance to build something.

But even now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

He was in his last thirties, and there was a lounging to be filled. His mortality was becoming apparent.

The Doctor puzzled him. She was very different from all the women he had met before, she had a purpose, she was meaningful, and even more so due to the fact that she was the one taking care of his wounded and sick.

Bretonia recognition didn't matter anymore. Discovering what made her unique was what seemed important. He was intrigued and quite hoping for a good development. At the very least he would know the person that would have the life of so many soldiers of the Leeds resistance in her hands.

With one last brushing of his suit he was trying to choose a tie when he decided against it, she didn't seem to care much for formal outfits. A simple suit and shirt would do.

He made his way to the door to meet her.