Just outside of the Strategic Orrery of the Orbital Fortress Invincible
Captain Leidolf Lutzen pulled himself to one side of the vast corridor and behind one of the ornately furnished columns lining it to avoid the oncoming mass of murmuring officers, who were vacating the Orrery en masse now that the briefing had concluded. To his slight, but niggling embarrassment, he had noticed a seam some how torn into the sleeve of his uniform mid-briefing. A tuft of black fur protruded from it. He desperately hoped that he was the only one that noticed it.
"Something must be wrong with you today, fuzzball." Said a voice that made Lutzen freeze. He recognized it as as belonging to Isabelle Nue, the human commander of Siegmund, one of the destroyers that formed his group of escorts. "Just a nod and a grin? Even to that much applause? From that many of your colleagues, comrades and superiors? I expected a... a grandiose speech, abundant in self-flattery." Isabelle pulled up in front of him, wearing a grin. "You know, your usual routine whenever someone so much as gives you a thumbs up." She chuckled.
Lutzen suddenly sprang to attention and shifted his arms to clasp his hands together behind him. Partly to maintain appearances, though mostly to hide that growing tear in his sleeve. "Take what praise you are given humbly, and never be so audacious as to grasp for more. Be satisfied in knowing what you are given is what you have earned." He recited in an official tone. "These are all things father taught me." Lutzen hastily added, giving a nod.
At this, Isabelle merely shook her head. "Really, Captain? Come now, friend. I've known you a lot longer than that. You really expect me to believe all that?"
"Well, it would have been nice!" Lutzen replied, giving a sheepish grin and a light shrug. He then sagged with a huff. "But, alas, you have caught me." He said in a low tone. "Zounds, blast and forsooth." He fakely growled, swinging a fist belonging to the arm with the non-torn sleeve before him a small gesture of mock outrage. Lutzen then rose back up and grinned broadly. "Ah... but you know me too well. You know that I -love- to be recognized for my work. I really, really do! It gives me a... warm, even tingly feeling, to know that my close brushes with death in the service of the kingdom, dragging some four thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine other poor souls along for the ride all the while, does not go unappreciated."
Isabelle smiled again, then folded her arms as she examined the Larestan more closely. "Figured. So why so silent, sir? Is something amiss? I'm sure there's time for you to visit the medical facilities if you're genuinely unwell."
"Pish-posh." Lutzen waved a hand dismissively. "I've just been so busy with preparations for the coming operation that I've barely found the time to sleep, is all." He explained. Having glanced around and found the rest of the officers had long departed the area, he indulged in a rather large yawn. "Do not be worrying about this supposedly poor captain. He is quite fine, he assures you." He gestured for Isabelle to follow him as he finally shifted from the column and began strolling down the hall. "He'll just need to give the transcript of the meeting a few read overs later, is all. He would have liked to have stayed in bed, but it is neither decent nor smart to avoid gatherings of this importance for such trivialities."
Isabelle complied and maintained an even pace with Lutzen. "So, did you recognize many of the officers gathered there today, sir?"
"Oh... a more than a few. Those I didn't, I'm sure I've heard of. It's like a close-knit, but highly dysfunctional family, for the most part. Of particular interest, to my ever so humble self, anyway, was finally encountering Von Ingram, His Majesty's Switchblade. I have often heard her declared to be my opposite. In fact, they have a similar appellation for me, I've heard. 'His Majesty's Sledgehammer', it is." On that last note, he turned to face Isabelle with an uncertain grin. "I... am not so sure if this is a good thing, hauhau."
She shook her head and shrugged. "Couldn't tell you, Captain. At least you are good at breaking things?"
"Heh, yes. Quite so. Anyway, I had to conceal my grin when I saw Rear Admiral Wander. Very strange fellow indeed, but an excellent host! Just... try not to get too involved with him, I'm warning you."
A sudden thought occurred to Isabelle. "Sir, I... I mean no disrespect, but I was wondering how you feel you're treated as a... an abhuman. This was my first high level meeting, so I wasn't sure of what to expect, and I am equally unsure of what I observed."
Lutzen uttered that peculiar hauhauhau of a laugh again. "No offense taken. There are certainly those that are uneasy around, and even resent, us abhumans, yes. I noticed more than a few scowls, if I am to be honest. But, it cannot be helped. I accept things for what they are. I am sure everyone in that room can agree that the Arians are the worst scum in the galaxy right now anyhow, no? After the war is through, they can turn me into a rug for all I care, but there is more at stake right now." He paused before a viewport and peered out into the void of space. "We've ships to explode and worlds to take, after all!"
"Though I think visit to the station's tailor is in order first, sir." Isabelle added, her eyes on the ever growing split in the sleeve. Lutzen huffed loudly, his ears lowering.