A Surprise Dinner Date (RP with Ortog)

[Ortog]

Ortog played the tour guide for a while and showed Doreen the main features of the Larklight, carefully avoiding some of the more sensible areas, but still pointing out the state of the art electronic surveillance and data collecting array, the docking bays...the cloak.
He proceeded to introduce her to relevant members of his staff, with particular relevance towards his right hand, Parker, which he made a point to state that Doreen should not hesitate to ask for anything she needed.

Parker was a bulky towering man, built as an ox, but with a disconcertingly friendly face. He acknowledged Ortog’s orders and took his leave with a short head bow.

It was obvious that this ship was his home and if any doubts remained they would be dispelled by the dining room.

It was classical bretonian style: tapestried, carved wood panels, complete with a table capable of seating ten, a fireplace and a mantle piece displaying the Ashford coat of arms.

He helped her with the chair and served Coalition vodka with some caviar and toast.

-I do owe you an apology for forcing myself on you like this. But, unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of taking time I don’t have to indulge in social niceties, regardless of how needed they are.

He looked almost embarassed for a moment. He toped up the glasses again and admited:

-I was just assigned the directorship of Kusari for the Congress. It is an extremely dangerous place for a junker, even a junker like me. I am an old fashioned smuggler, luxury items mostly, no drugs or slavery, I disapprove the first and detest the last. But regardless, its the most dangerous place, even for a competent fighter pilot like me.

He looked absent for a moment then looked intently in her eyes.

-I need somebody to take care of the refugees my fleet evacuates from Leeds, somebody I trust, I need you for that Doreen, but...

He paused and refilled the glasses.

-If I die, and that is certainly a possibility, then my life would have been for naught, as nothing will remain from my labours.

There was a knock in the door and a trolley was pushed inside. Plates had their covers removed to reveal salmon in a bed of vegetables and a white gallic wine bottle was showed, approved and served.

He observed her while she tasted the wine.

-So, basically. I need a beacon...something that makes me want to return, something to steer myself to.