((Docking Ring))

::He kept a wary eye on the crates. They were a fair distance away, but they
were growling at him (and had been since he arrived, much to the chagrin of
the man who had been trying to get through customs without any trouble.
There was trouble now, mostly in the form of people with loud voices calling
for everyone to be reasonable. (The definition of 'reasonable' appearing to
mean, by turns, "Letting me through with no problems", "Going back onto your
ship", and "Being quiet and orderly and not disturbing anyone.") It was the
middle ground directly between the icy barbs of court gossip and settling
things with abrupt violence; which was a pity because while Kyros had been
trained for either of the extremes, he hadn't been for the middle ground.
Some of the entertainment programs he'd watched on the way over suggested
walking up to them, twirling some sort of blunt instrument in front of him,
and saying "What's all this, then, what's all this?", but he'd realized that
those were nearly as dated as he was. (And besides, he'd never managed the
accent.)::

YON: Excuse me -- oh, it's you.

::Kyros nodded to the Andorian.::

GIDEON: 'Tis Yon, I believe?

YON: Yeah. I've actually been meaning to ask you something. The girls
covered in syrup...

GIDEON: I am sorry, I swore an oath not to reveal what happened.

YON: Yeah, but ...

GIDEON: To my grave.

YON: Fine. Want to join the Dreamers of Peace?

GIDEON: Thou dost ask that a lot.

YON: It's kinda my job. To bring people in.

GIDEON: And it doth work?

YON: Better than you'd think. Well, once I learned to avoid Klingons. Not
big fans of peace, Klingons.

GIDEON: I can see that.

YON: You'd think peace and happiness would be welcomed everywhere, but ...
eh. Wanna join?

GIDEON: Nay, not today.

YON: Suit yourself. Just don't blame me when you run out of peace and
happiness and you don't have anyone to call.

::The Andorian moved on, muttering to himself under his breath.::

DAFYDD: Well, look who the cat drug in.

::Kyros stiffened at the voice, then swiftly spun around to face its
speaker.::

GIDEON: Dafydd.

DAFYDD: Kyros! How's the tan?

:;Kyros' hand itched to leap towards his sword, but he kept it still. The
last time he had met Dafydd, he had ended up in the middle of one of the
worst parts of Vulcan's plains, with naught but a single robe. He had barely
survived.::

GIDEON: Treated. And thou?

DAFYDD: I liked the irony. Impounding my ship was a nice touch as well.

GIDEON: That would have been Quinn's actions, nay mine own.

DAFYDD: Lovely gel, too -- let her know I'm sorry about the whole ...
Incident. Honest mistake, could have happened to anyone. Nobody's fault,
really.

GIDEON: Thou tried to kill her. Doth she know thou art here?

DAFYDD: I've chosen not to advertise my presence.

GIDEON: So nay.

::Dafydd raised his arms, showing the lack of chains on them.::

DAFYDD: I'm not in the brig yet. But she might have surprising depths of
mercy.::

GIDEON: 'tis possible.

DAFYDD: Anyways, my ship's just that way. Best get in so we can get wherever
it is you're going.

--
Sir Kyros Gideon
Leaving On A Space-Plane
Don't Know When He'll Be Back Again


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