Zachary Selvin was a former engineer of the United States Navy. From serving upon the vessels themselves to teaching up-and-coming engineers the ins and outs of the ships they would spend so much time living in, he knew all one could about the ships of the US Navy. Now retired, the aging man spent his days upon the [b][i]RMS Empress of Japan[/b][/i], working as an advisor and unofficial overseer for the ships mechanics. He was no high priority person, held no close secrets of recent military developments or knew current intel on naval movements. Just an aged teacher spending his twilight years upon the waves.

But a teacher was just the kind of person Japan needed.

Takahiro moved slowly across the forward deck of the massive ocean liner, a small smile creasing his face as the salt spray danced across his form. He wore the uniform of his station today, a robe of silk dyed a deep blue hung lightly upon his form, a second garment of pure white visible from the robe's collar dived downwards to a wrapped belt of equally-white silk. Decorative cords dyed in blues and blacks secured the robe across his chest, as well as hung from wide sleeves and ran down the 'legs' of the robe itself. Fanning out about his feet, simple corded sandals could be seen as he stepped, their sandy color matching that of his cane, seeming quite sturdy despite appearing to be made of bamboo. 

No sword adorned his belt, the decoration left aside in respect for the western world. Besides, it was an old custom, for a samurai to wear his sword everywhere he walked, one swiftly fading as Japan raced towards a new era. Quietly, Takahiro urged that race on, always looking forward to the day when 'his' class was no longer needed.

And among these westerners enjoying the cruise, how many truly knew of his culture? How many of those that stared at his dress, that chuckled or 'ahhhed' to one another, actually understood? Likely none, which meant the stylized imagery of a swimming koi sewn into the back of his robe would likely not be seen for the insult it was.

Of course, it was only insulting those of the class he himself 'belonged' to. So the westerners could be forgiven for not understanding.

[i][["Takahiro-san, this ship is well underway. Should we begin now?"]][/i]

Taking a moment away from enjoying the feeling of water and wave once more, Takahiro turned to the two 'brothers' that had accompanied him on this mission. Goemon stood closer, the one who had spoke, dressed sharply in western cloth. Daisuke was dressed the same, but stood slightly further behind, one ear on the conversation and two eyes on the world around them. 

[i]Koe to Ken[/i]. Voice and fist. Ones close enough to Takahiro that they might as well be blood brothers, and the only proper choice in accomplices for this part of the mission. 

[i][["You to go ahead."]][/i] Takahiro couldn't help but look back out to the sea as he spoke. Better than any painting or carving, better than any curve or arch of building. [i]This[i] was the beauty, the art he most enjoyed. It was almost enough to make him long for a certain charming young lady at his side, appreciating the view as well.

A pity that certain charming young lady wasn't [i]quite[/i] as charming as she appeared. But maybe that wasn't all a bad thing?

[i][["Daisuke, find Selvin. Goemon, keep an eyes out for our baronessa. Learn the boat as you do, we're only watching now."]][/i] He couldn't help the smile that grew across his lips, couldn't hide the glint in his eye at the thought of what was to come . [i][["The mission- our little revenge, comes after."]][/i]

[i]"Hai!"[/i] Goemon bowed, Daisuke saluted, and as one Takahiro's voice and fist set forth on their most recent mission.

Leaving Takahiro alone at the ocean liner's expansive bow, taking in the sights and spray with a look of utter contentment and joyous aniticipation.