Post by brickwall on Nov 19, 2023 7:29:14 GMT -7
She sat munching her noonday meal on a garishly colored tablecloth, it's shade colliding with the bright green grass under it. The late spring sun warmed her enough to make a smile blossom on her icy expression. The twin neighbors of the world she was now exiled on graced the deep blue sky above her, each orb living and gleaming as if polished like shining glass. But the vision of the planets Cephas and Petrus graced her eyes with gentle amusement for the moment. Two groups of her guards dressed in forest green sauntered down the path around the two giant statues towering over her. Both scanned the park around it, not thinking to act discreet among it's visitors.
They were careful to keep a respectable distance from Salen Heishen - after all she had no need for privacy now. The delicate pale figure enjoying her fancy picnic lunch looked very small and insignificant compared to them. But this was the infamous "Business Witch", considered a monster entrepreneur to both Kephan citizens and Romulan Outcast refugees. Those who knew of her past triumphs found it unbelievable that she'd end up forever exiled among those the Star Empire shunned. Yet such a cunning yet unassuming woman forged three small companies into a very profitable juggernaut after just arriving into Unity space. In four short years since then, her Heishen Corporation propelled Kephan colonization efforts to new heights and massive profits for her.
Now sipping a simple pumpkin soup from it's bottle, Salen gazed at the small gaggles of tourists gathered around the base of the statues. All looked happy to drink in the essence of the day. Their peaceful enjoyment made her heart giddy. This was a feeling she could never get used to. It was true even back when she held her influential family's financial power in her hands. In war and business, one never let one's guard down.
She woke from her reverie when she spied her guards approaching with several Romulan uniformed soldiers behind them. They huddled around a young lady draped in vivid crimson and gold, unusual dress for anyone from Imperial space. Her gloved hands held a thin bound leather volume close to her chest. Her exotic hair, neatly braided down her shoulders, gave off an air of innocence. Her calm brown eyes hid a fire within, able to ignite with a single look.
The old woman wondered what this pretty little thing wanted here. "Come share my meal, Your Highness," she announced politely. "There's enough for two."
"Kindly refer to me as ambassador," came the soft reply.
Salen peered closer. Something about the imperious attitude of this girl unnerved her. She took a cautious sip from her bottle, and a deep breath. The girl should have known that any insolence shown to any Heishen would remain unforgotten. She allowed her focus to shift to the Romulan soldiers flanking her. They were grim faced, unmoving, silent. Their clear collective will imposed the need of answering their questions with dignity.
"As you wish, ambassador," she said before taking another sip. "I take it that's my file on me?"
"Indeed. A very interesting read." The ambassador handed the leather bound folder to her as she gingerly sat next to her. "You've come quite far in such a short time."
"To put it simply, I am good at what I do." Salen stared back into the girl's calm brown eyes. The old woman faced down many a rival during her seventy years of life. This youngster would be no different. But there was something else there. There was always something special about members of an Imperial house, whether of the Praetor himself or a Grand Senator. It showed itself in every fiber of their being. And in her case...
Salen licked her lips. "You've received the information I gathered about the Tordellians, I take it."
"I have. All has been verified and confirmed by my...associates, shall we say."
"None can understand our tongue here, so we may speak without euphemisms. Your spies discovered what these Kephans already experienced in battle."
"Indeed. This Tordell Empire is too far away from us now to bother with, but that is only temporary." The girl seemed somewhat perplexed. "They act like Klingons, yet not completely."
"They are vicious animals who have no honor. Only a blind loyalty to their empress, but that's all I know for certain. The Kephans stand up to them well but have yet to push them back."
"These of the Narvasam Nohthi allow your little enterprise to prosper?" the girl said, referring to the Romulan term "Nest of the Crazies" for the Unity. "Why do you help them so fervently? Have they bought you and for how much?"
The old woman leaned back, letting a slight warm breeze play with her hair. "That is my secret, ambassador. I have done them more than just a favor. Besides, you know the answer yourself. Like myself and us Outcasts, you also are exiled here. After all, you did fail to avenge our defeat at Cheron with a handful of old ships. Surely your uncle...our Praetor...had to teach you a lesson somehow, true?"
The Ambassador stared back in silence.
Salen continued. "But let's not let the past swallow us up in useless fantasies of payback. On a suggestion from my Star Navy contacts, I have a proposition for you to deliver to the Senate and your uncle."
The girl frowned. "With all due respect, I don't believe your suggestions are worth pursuing anymore."
"Let's see what can be done to change your mind," the old woman challenged. She opened up the folder, traced the pages with her finger as she read them. "Hmmm. Very good summary of my life and doings, both military and business. The Tal Shiar does it's work exceedingly well."
"They'd be fools if they did otherwise," said the ambassador, folding her arms. "Our secret service can't afford to let the Empire's potential enemies get an advantage over us."
"Yes, that goes without saying, even here. Still..." Salen eyed the young lady closely. The contrast between both women made a strange picture indeed.
"Your proposition?"
"Indeed. As I said to your assistants in the past, the Empire has no threat in the Unity. They're obsessed in retaking Earth or liberating it from it's global state. So says the charter of it's Star Navy. So says it's constitution. Surely you've read deeply of their foundational documents, haven't you?"
The ambassador shook her head. "No."
"Perhaps when your schedule allows it then. But this Unity is getting pummeled this way and that. These Tordellian ships are tougher than they expected. Both the Earthers and the Klingons are now tasting their vengeance, the latter especially at the qIH system."
"Let it be on their heads for all I care."
"Of course. In any case, this isn't what we meet here for." Salen peered at her once again. "For the price of that stolen cloaking device retrieved from the Charger's Price long ago, they got those eleven old ships of ours with our thanks. With us k'manatri along with them. All things happen for a reason, don't they?"
The ambassador cocked her head. "I hate repeating myself, but what's your proposition?"
"It's time for the Imperial Navy to divest itself of some more of it's mothballed and captured junk. The Unity has been appreciative of what's been dumped into their laps. Surely they'll do so now."
"Even dilapidated wrecks like the V-5 Starfires? Should have all been scrapped long ago."
"Even them. So long as the cloaking devices are removed before sending them here."
"They...don't want them?"
"Shocking, yes, but that's the main pre-condition they've set. The other is that they be built earlier than the Earther year 2270 as they measure time. Sooner sent the better, too."
The young girl's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Impossible!"
Salen laughed softly. "Rest assured, they will accept anything we give them. Not too many at once so as to not alert the Federation or those ridgeheads on Quo'nos. That's why you're the perfect middle man for this. Or should I say middlewoman instead?"
"Whichever you prefer."
"And you can tell them to include any Outcasts with the ships in this scheme. Just like last time." Salen eyed the young woman sharply. "Less internal trouble, less drain on our resources. Both powers prosper for little cost."
The girl didn't answer right away. "I have no quarrels with Outcasts," she said. "I am one now, like it or no. But we know the Senate will take it's sweet time arguing over this. Unless..."
"Unless what?" asked the old woman, enjoying the exchange.
"Other than a multitude of credits, what will the Empire receive in return?"
"Oh....plenty." Salen smiled broadly. "First, let's dispose of the Klingon trash we're dying to dump. Anything that comes to your mind?"
"Centurion, my image processor." The tallest of her bodyguard quarter unhooked the gun-shaped scanner and computer from his belt, passed it to the ambassador. Pointing it skyward, she turned it's three dials, gazed into the screen above it.
"There's a D-3 Hoh'sus light cruiser we've taken as a battle prize a while ago. We can always get rid of an I-31 Comet Trail freighter while we're at it. Ah..." Her eyes lit up in delight. "Two of the D-101 H'atoria armored cruisers are ready for the scrapyards as we speak. Good riddance to them if the Crazies want them."
Salen nodded, satisfied. "Perfect. Now for those of Romulan make. We can agree to bid farewell to at least one Skyfire, right?"
"One only." The ambassador bit her lip. "It will take time removing the cloaks. What else?"
"Any craft we've copied from the Klingons?"
"There's the V-45 Stormseekers. One's been reported as 'disappeared without a trace' by the bureaucracy back home."
"At the Tal Shiar's suggestion, I figure. We'll take it off their hands. Anything else?"
"None else on any copied craft. We do have a fully armed V-74 Strong Shield returning from patrolling near Gorn space. Easy to take out it's cloak and send it on it's way."
"So far, so good. Let's move on to our freighters. Would any I-2 Chula like to carry cargo for someone else?"
The ambassador shook her head. "Not unless we can also part with two J-3 Starlifters and their pods. The oldest ones of the bunch. Put them with the Comet Trail and make a convoy out of it."
"Certainly," Salen said, pausing to sip her pumpkin soup. "Well then, let's not let the convoy go unprotected. Orion freebooters and all that, if you get my meaning."
"A quartet of P-3 Caladans should do the trick. Maybe throw in an E-5 Little Nest repair tender as a gift. No pirate would be interested in something as small as that."
"Good point. Would a scout or two drawn any needless eyes toward it?"
"Not even three in my thinking. It would confuse any pirate band tempted to try. Rivals would laugh them to scorn. What types?"
"One Graceful Flyer, one Free Flight and one Rr'ni'hassalle should do. On the last one, just call it the S-15. No non-Romulan could pronounce it anyway without insulting us."
The girl nodded, pondering the thought. "Or many of our kind to be honest. Very well. Protection still seem anemic, though. Anything else to defend them?"
"A pair of escorts then. One of the R-4 Mularrs and one of the R-8 Death Swarms. Shouldn't attract too much attention."
"A moment, please." She tuned another dial on her processor, pursed her lips. "There's a V-81 Firestar cruiser waiting to be sold. Expensive to maintain, used more for scientific research. Throw it in with the other cruisers, send them all separately to Kephan space."
Salen was pleased with herself. "Beautiful. That should be enough. Now for my part of this deal." She returned the leather-bound folder to the girl. "Along with continued intelligence on the Tordell aggressors, I'll provide the plans for the upgrade of that ramshackle Orion junk ship foisted on the Unity."
The girl looked slightly baffled. "That...thing?"
Salen nodded. "Yes, the HHS Co-operation. That monstrosity claiming to be a heavy cruiser."
The ambassador glanced around nervously. She shifted her hand, fidgeted with her gloves. Finally she sighed, met the old woman's gaze squarely. "Is this another Kephan thought pattern you've picked up? Turning trash into treasure as they do, I mean?"
Salen shrugged. "Call it creative recycling, if you wish. The tech boys under my direction cooked up this update in three hours. Astonished even me. As is their tradition now, my people built and tested three of these for their Star Navy."
"Everything in threes once again." The girl leaned forward eagerly. "Do I dare ask for specs?"
The old woman laughed, throwing her hands up in a theatrical gesture. "Of course you may. But tell me this first. Do we have any D-11s to turn into these newborn warriors?"
She nodded silently. "One D model, one G model, both captured in battle. They'll be turned into scrap soon enough if nothing's done."
"Good, good. Now for field testing them, it would behoove us to keep them from prying eyes."
"Spying eyes, you mean. As in Federation and Klingon."
"Or Orion as well. Hence my suggestion to try them out on that fourth obstacle to our Road to the Stars."
"The Gorns?"
"They're the third, young lady. I speak of the fourth...the Valhallens."
The ambassador shut her eyes, held up a clenched fist. "Trying to remember here...um...also known as the Stellar Concordat?"
"The same. They are far enough away from our two main rivals. Those arrogant so-and-sos, they might think themselves better than anyone else. A healthy dose of humility would do them good. Our version of this new pocket battleship will do that for them."
"So sayeth the mad woman." The Romulan guards around the girl stifled unbidden chuckles as they now stood at-ease. Salen shook her head, sipped her soup. "Did I mention, Madame Heishen, that we call these people 'Nest of the Crazies' for a good reason? It seems from the outside you're thinking like them and in so short a time among them."
She sighed heavily. "Maybe it's true. Yet how can you blame me, Ambassador? What choice did I have? May I point out that you and your staff are in the same nest as I? Just a different part of it and with a higher status than I?"
The young lady shrugged, laughed softly as she joined in the guard's chuckles. "True. What's done is done, Madame Heishen. My humble apologies if I came across a little too harshly. Time does change everyone."
Salen gave her a warm smile. "Will you send my proposals to both Praetor and Senate?"
"Before the sun sets today."
"Mind you that included with the plans for the ship are the schematics for the VHB-3 model heavy phaser our Vulcan kin developed. All now part and parcel of this new pocket battleship."
"A new weapon? Fantastic!" The ambassador grinned widely. "It shall be studied carefully."
"Soon, my dear lady. Soon." Salen nodded gravely. "Now, if you don't mind, I must ask you. Do you have a first name at least? If I'm forbidden to call you Your Highness, I certainly won't call you 'girl', true? That would be disrespectful."
"For now, call me Helene. At least in informal situations."
"Of course, of course." Salen chuckled lightly, reached across to pat the girl's shoulder gently. "Very well then, 'Helene'. We shall both serve the Empire as best we can, eh?"
They were careful to keep a respectable distance from Salen Heishen - after all she had no need for privacy now. The delicate pale figure enjoying her fancy picnic lunch looked very small and insignificant compared to them. But this was the infamous "Business Witch", considered a monster entrepreneur to both Kephan citizens and Romulan Outcast refugees. Those who knew of her past triumphs found it unbelievable that she'd end up forever exiled among those the Star Empire shunned. Yet such a cunning yet unassuming woman forged three small companies into a very profitable juggernaut after just arriving into Unity space. In four short years since then, her Heishen Corporation propelled Kephan colonization efforts to new heights and massive profits for her.
Now sipping a simple pumpkin soup from it's bottle, Salen gazed at the small gaggles of tourists gathered around the base of the statues. All looked happy to drink in the essence of the day. Their peaceful enjoyment made her heart giddy. This was a feeling she could never get used to. It was true even back when she held her influential family's financial power in her hands. In war and business, one never let one's guard down.
She woke from her reverie when she spied her guards approaching with several Romulan uniformed soldiers behind them. They huddled around a young lady draped in vivid crimson and gold, unusual dress for anyone from Imperial space. Her gloved hands held a thin bound leather volume close to her chest. Her exotic hair, neatly braided down her shoulders, gave off an air of innocence. Her calm brown eyes hid a fire within, able to ignite with a single look.
The old woman wondered what this pretty little thing wanted here. "Come share my meal, Your Highness," she announced politely. "There's enough for two."
"Kindly refer to me as ambassador," came the soft reply.
Salen peered closer. Something about the imperious attitude of this girl unnerved her. She took a cautious sip from her bottle, and a deep breath. The girl should have known that any insolence shown to any Heishen would remain unforgotten. She allowed her focus to shift to the Romulan soldiers flanking her. They were grim faced, unmoving, silent. Their clear collective will imposed the need of answering their questions with dignity.
"As you wish, ambassador," she said before taking another sip. "I take it that's my file on me?"
"Indeed. A very interesting read." The ambassador handed the leather bound folder to her as she gingerly sat next to her. "You've come quite far in such a short time."
"To put it simply, I am good at what I do." Salen stared back into the girl's calm brown eyes. The old woman faced down many a rival during her seventy years of life. This youngster would be no different. But there was something else there. There was always something special about members of an Imperial house, whether of the Praetor himself or a Grand Senator. It showed itself in every fiber of their being. And in her case...
Salen licked her lips. "You've received the information I gathered about the Tordellians, I take it."
"I have. All has been verified and confirmed by my...associates, shall we say."
"None can understand our tongue here, so we may speak without euphemisms. Your spies discovered what these Kephans already experienced in battle."
"Indeed. This Tordell Empire is too far away from us now to bother with, but that is only temporary." The girl seemed somewhat perplexed. "They act like Klingons, yet not completely."
"They are vicious animals who have no honor. Only a blind loyalty to their empress, but that's all I know for certain. The Kephans stand up to them well but have yet to push them back."
"These of the Narvasam Nohthi allow your little enterprise to prosper?" the girl said, referring to the Romulan term "Nest of the Crazies" for the Unity. "Why do you help them so fervently? Have they bought you and for how much?"
The old woman leaned back, letting a slight warm breeze play with her hair. "That is my secret, ambassador. I have done them more than just a favor. Besides, you know the answer yourself. Like myself and us Outcasts, you also are exiled here. After all, you did fail to avenge our defeat at Cheron with a handful of old ships. Surely your uncle...our Praetor...had to teach you a lesson somehow, true?"
The Ambassador stared back in silence.
Salen continued. "But let's not let the past swallow us up in useless fantasies of payback. On a suggestion from my Star Navy contacts, I have a proposition for you to deliver to the Senate and your uncle."
The girl frowned. "With all due respect, I don't believe your suggestions are worth pursuing anymore."
"Let's see what can be done to change your mind," the old woman challenged. She opened up the folder, traced the pages with her finger as she read them. "Hmmm. Very good summary of my life and doings, both military and business. The Tal Shiar does it's work exceedingly well."
"They'd be fools if they did otherwise," said the ambassador, folding her arms. "Our secret service can't afford to let the Empire's potential enemies get an advantage over us."
"Yes, that goes without saying, even here. Still..." Salen eyed the young lady closely. The contrast between both women made a strange picture indeed.
"Your proposition?"
"Indeed. As I said to your assistants in the past, the Empire has no threat in the Unity. They're obsessed in retaking Earth or liberating it from it's global state. So says the charter of it's Star Navy. So says it's constitution. Surely you've read deeply of their foundational documents, haven't you?"
The ambassador shook her head. "No."
"Perhaps when your schedule allows it then. But this Unity is getting pummeled this way and that. These Tordellian ships are tougher than they expected. Both the Earthers and the Klingons are now tasting their vengeance, the latter especially at the qIH system."
"Let it be on their heads for all I care."
"Of course. In any case, this isn't what we meet here for." Salen peered at her once again. "For the price of that stolen cloaking device retrieved from the Charger's Price long ago, they got those eleven old ships of ours with our thanks. With us k'manatri along with them. All things happen for a reason, don't they?"
The ambassador cocked her head. "I hate repeating myself, but what's your proposition?"
"It's time for the Imperial Navy to divest itself of some more of it's mothballed and captured junk. The Unity has been appreciative of what's been dumped into their laps. Surely they'll do so now."
"Even dilapidated wrecks like the V-5 Starfires? Should have all been scrapped long ago."
"Even them. So long as the cloaking devices are removed before sending them here."
"They...don't want them?"
"Shocking, yes, but that's the main pre-condition they've set. The other is that they be built earlier than the Earther year 2270 as they measure time. Sooner sent the better, too."
The young girl's mouth hung open in disbelief. "Impossible!"
Salen laughed softly. "Rest assured, they will accept anything we give them. Not too many at once so as to not alert the Federation or those ridgeheads on Quo'nos. That's why you're the perfect middle man for this. Or should I say middlewoman instead?"
"Whichever you prefer."
"And you can tell them to include any Outcasts with the ships in this scheme. Just like last time." Salen eyed the young woman sharply. "Less internal trouble, less drain on our resources. Both powers prosper for little cost."
The girl didn't answer right away. "I have no quarrels with Outcasts," she said. "I am one now, like it or no. But we know the Senate will take it's sweet time arguing over this. Unless..."
"Unless what?" asked the old woman, enjoying the exchange.
"Other than a multitude of credits, what will the Empire receive in return?"
"Oh....plenty." Salen smiled broadly. "First, let's dispose of the Klingon trash we're dying to dump. Anything that comes to your mind?"
"Centurion, my image processor." The tallest of her bodyguard quarter unhooked the gun-shaped scanner and computer from his belt, passed it to the ambassador. Pointing it skyward, she turned it's three dials, gazed into the screen above it.
"There's a D-3 Hoh'sus light cruiser we've taken as a battle prize a while ago. We can always get rid of an I-31 Comet Trail freighter while we're at it. Ah..." Her eyes lit up in delight. "Two of the D-101 H'atoria armored cruisers are ready for the scrapyards as we speak. Good riddance to them if the Crazies want them."
Salen nodded, satisfied. "Perfect. Now for those of Romulan make. We can agree to bid farewell to at least one Skyfire, right?"
"One only." The ambassador bit her lip. "It will take time removing the cloaks. What else?"
"Any craft we've copied from the Klingons?"
"There's the V-45 Stormseekers. One's been reported as 'disappeared without a trace' by the bureaucracy back home."
"At the Tal Shiar's suggestion, I figure. We'll take it off their hands. Anything else?"
"None else on any copied craft. We do have a fully armed V-74 Strong Shield returning from patrolling near Gorn space. Easy to take out it's cloak and send it on it's way."
"So far, so good. Let's move on to our freighters. Would any I-2 Chula like to carry cargo for someone else?"
The ambassador shook her head. "Not unless we can also part with two J-3 Starlifters and their pods. The oldest ones of the bunch. Put them with the Comet Trail and make a convoy out of it."
"Certainly," Salen said, pausing to sip her pumpkin soup. "Well then, let's not let the convoy go unprotected. Orion freebooters and all that, if you get my meaning."
"A quartet of P-3 Caladans should do the trick. Maybe throw in an E-5 Little Nest repair tender as a gift. No pirate would be interested in something as small as that."
"Good point. Would a scout or two drawn any needless eyes toward it?"
"Not even three in my thinking. It would confuse any pirate band tempted to try. Rivals would laugh them to scorn. What types?"
"One Graceful Flyer, one Free Flight and one Rr'ni'hassalle should do. On the last one, just call it the S-15. No non-Romulan could pronounce it anyway without insulting us."
The girl nodded, pondering the thought. "Or many of our kind to be honest. Very well. Protection still seem anemic, though. Anything else to defend them?"
"A pair of escorts then. One of the R-4 Mularrs and one of the R-8 Death Swarms. Shouldn't attract too much attention."
"A moment, please." She tuned another dial on her processor, pursed her lips. "There's a V-81 Firestar cruiser waiting to be sold. Expensive to maintain, used more for scientific research. Throw it in with the other cruisers, send them all separately to Kephan space."
Salen was pleased with herself. "Beautiful. That should be enough. Now for my part of this deal." She returned the leather-bound folder to the girl. "Along with continued intelligence on the Tordell aggressors, I'll provide the plans for the upgrade of that ramshackle Orion junk ship foisted on the Unity."
The girl looked slightly baffled. "That...thing?"
Salen nodded. "Yes, the HHS Co-operation. That monstrosity claiming to be a heavy cruiser."
The ambassador glanced around nervously. She shifted her hand, fidgeted with her gloves. Finally she sighed, met the old woman's gaze squarely. "Is this another Kephan thought pattern you've picked up? Turning trash into treasure as they do, I mean?"
Salen shrugged. "Call it creative recycling, if you wish. The tech boys under my direction cooked up this update in three hours. Astonished even me. As is their tradition now, my people built and tested three of these for their Star Navy."
"Everything in threes once again." The girl leaned forward eagerly. "Do I dare ask for specs?"
The old woman laughed, throwing her hands up in a theatrical gesture. "Of course you may. But tell me this first. Do we have any D-11s to turn into these newborn warriors?"
She nodded silently. "One D model, one G model, both captured in battle. They'll be turned into scrap soon enough if nothing's done."
"Good, good. Now for field testing them, it would behoove us to keep them from prying eyes."
"Spying eyes, you mean. As in Federation and Klingon."
"Or Orion as well. Hence my suggestion to try them out on that fourth obstacle to our Road to the Stars."
"The Gorns?"
"They're the third, young lady. I speak of the fourth...the Valhallens."
The ambassador shut her eyes, held up a clenched fist. "Trying to remember here...um...also known as the Stellar Concordat?"
"The same. They are far enough away from our two main rivals. Those arrogant so-and-sos, they might think themselves better than anyone else. A healthy dose of humility would do them good. Our version of this new pocket battleship will do that for them."
"So sayeth the mad woman." The Romulan guards around the girl stifled unbidden chuckles as they now stood at-ease. Salen shook her head, sipped her soup. "Did I mention, Madame Heishen, that we call these people 'Nest of the Crazies' for a good reason? It seems from the outside you're thinking like them and in so short a time among them."
She sighed heavily. "Maybe it's true. Yet how can you blame me, Ambassador? What choice did I have? May I point out that you and your staff are in the same nest as I? Just a different part of it and with a higher status than I?"
The young lady shrugged, laughed softly as she joined in the guard's chuckles. "True. What's done is done, Madame Heishen. My humble apologies if I came across a little too harshly. Time does change everyone."
Salen gave her a warm smile. "Will you send my proposals to both Praetor and Senate?"
"Before the sun sets today."
"Mind you that included with the plans for the ship are the schematics for the VHB-3 model heavy phaser our Vulcan kin developed. All now part and parcel of this new pocket battleship."
"A new weapon? Fantastic!" The ambassador grinned widely. "It shall be studied carefully."
"Soon, my dear lady. Soon." Salen nodded gravely. "Now, if you don't mind, I must ask you. Do you have a first name at least? If I'm forbidden to call you Your Highness, I certainly won't call you 'girl', true? That would be disrespectful."
"For now, call me Helene. At least in informal situations."
"Of course, of course." Salen chuckled lightly, reached across to pat the girl's shoulder gently. "Very well then, 'Helene'. We shall both serve the Empire as best we can, eh?"
