SD241709.17 - Duty Log - Sails - "Tinker Tailor Soldier Butler"

Posted on Sun Sep 17th, 2017 @ 2:12pm by Sails-at-Dawn Mr

1,777 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Test Mission
Location: The Noble Estate of Lord Sir Richard Markus Forthwellin Nickel-Scythe Pertle the Sixteenth

=^= The Grand Reception Hall =^=

The freshly-cleaned hall was a splendid sight to behold.

Large oaken doors, painted white and gilded with gold, contained state-of-the-art, wafer-thin anti-gravity generators that made the heavy doors swing open at the softest touch. The floors were polished marble, and were warmed individually to relax the feet of any guests made to wait. The walls were also white, and supported a number of framed portraits, along with a large tapestry depicting an ancient festival; where commoners danced in the streets, hawkers sold colored masks to laughing children, and the landed gentry smiled beneficently from their stately homes on the hill. Despite the lack of windows, the room was lit up as if by daylight. A large chandelier glittered as it hung from the ceiling, and cast creamy light into every corner, making the entire hall glow.

Standing patiently in the middle of the hall, Sails (in the role of a Butler) reached into his suit jacket pocket and extracted a golden pocket-watch, which gleamed under the light of the chandelier. The time was fifteen minutes past the hour, and the guests were very late indeed. He replaced the watch, maintaining a careful poker-face as he did so. His lordship had instructed him to stand in the entrance hall and await the guests' arrival, which meant that he could be expected to serve at any moment. Three of the household staff stood several paces behind him, awaiting his signal; two porters (for baggage), and a maid (for cleaning). Two more were in the room but had their own assignment; standing by the double-doors that led into the main hallway of the estate.

A moment later, the room was awash with noise. The transporter used to beam the guests into the hall was clearly an older model, and the noise was a combination of nails on a chalkboard, and a piano falling down a flight of stairs. Not only that, but the cavernous hall echoed the noise and made it worse, making bells ring in Sails' ears for several moments after the beam-in was complete. Thankfully, the two guests (one an older gentleman in a traveling cloak, and the other a pretty, younger woman with a perpetual sneer) were too preoccupied with the architecture to worry about a distracted butler.

"Good evening sir, milady." Sails began, stepping towards them and offering a small bow, which was mirrored by the three behind him. While the older man smiled tolerantly, the woman flipped out a tricorder and immediately began scanning his face. Taken aback, Sails withheld comment and waited patiently until she was finished. "You know what Rikky's like, dad. He's a lazy bum, and there's no way he's been this successful out here. This guy could be a hologram." she said defensively, responding to a raised eyebrow from the male guest. After three full scans, she grunted in a dissatisfied manner, and tucked the tricorder away in her pocket. "Fine. He's real." she said in disbelief.

Carrying on as if nothing unusual had just happened, Sails continued in his role. "May we take your cloaks and bags?" he asked politely. The woman looked unsure, but the older gentleman already had his cloak off, and hung it over his bag, nodding. Sails raised a hand and snapped his fingers briskly, causing one of the porters to rush forwards and accept the bag, quickly exiting the room to put it somewhere safe. Eventually, the woman acquiesced, and the other porter left with her bags.

"If you will follow me, dinner will be served shortly." Sails announced, leading the way to the large double doors. As the guests followed him, the maid followed them, circumspectly cleaning the dirty track marks left by their shoes. The doormen stepped forwards in unison and grasped one handle each, pushing the doors open and standing smartly beside them. Ahead of the guests, the main hallway stretched onwards, and their jaws dropped as their eyes overloaded on finery. Gold trim, white walls, a string of chandeliers, and a series of large doors lining the walls into the distance, hinting at a vast estate full of wonders, enchantment, and other highly expensive things.

"How....how the hell did my good-for-nothing brother afford all this? And how did he build all of this on a space station?" the woman asked, shocked by the sheer magnitude of her brother's vast wealth. Sails, though new to his employer's service, had familiarized himself with the history of his employer, as described by a padd he had been handed on his first day.

"I believe his lordship invested wisely in several start-up businesses. The businesses were successful, and his investment was returned a hundred-fold. From this he invested in a large quantity of cut-price land on a world with a food supply shortage. He hired men and machinery from a neighboring star system to make the vast swathe of land arable, and grew many hundreds of thousands of tonnes of staple foods; corn, rice, and some root crops." Sails explained, not missing a step as they walked down the corridor.

"Eventually the crops were harvested, and sold at cost. This act of generosity resolved the entire planet's food crisis, and he was granted boons by the two kings whose territory his land was in. One king knighted him, and the other made him a Lord. Both were Federation supporters, so the Commanding Officer of Versailles also granted him boons, including a large section of the station as a private residence. This entire structure was built by Starfleet Engineers, and then enhanced and improved by local labor. Indeed, Versailles' economy was flagging until his Lordship invested his earnings into improving this marvelous estate. Many of the improvements were unnecessary, but his Lordship felt that it was important that the station's inhabitants be given a chance to rise out of the gutter, if only for a brief shining moment. Many proved to be diamonds in the rough, and they staff the estate to this day." he finished, indicating the men who stood outside a pair of double-doors ahead of them, which led to the dining hall.

Shocked into silence by the history recounted to them, the woman and the older man both watched quietly as the doors opened, revealing the massive dining hall within. Yet more opulent finery bedecked the walls. Large glass windows showed an indoor field beyond, where a large room had been equipped with daylight-simulating lights, and grass had been allowed to grow on dirt shipped in from a nearby world. The children of the servants were allowed to play on the grass by the grace of his Lordship, and some enterprising engineer had arranged a wind machine; which meant that the scene through the windows was one of small children flying a kite on a grassy field.

Sails seated the guests at the table, just in time for his Lordship to step through the doors at the other end of the room. Wearing a ruffled purple robe of fine silk, his Lordship lacked much of the ostentatious "bling" that saturated his estate, preferring something simple and comfortable while conducting the day's affairs. His trousers were a cream-coloured fabric, and his shoes were in fact slippers. Ones that, while comfortable, did not go with the outfit in any way shape or form. It was only Sails' self-control that prevented him from burying his face in his hands. Though the estate was a triumph of opulent elegance, his employer still lacked any semblance of fashion sense.

"His Lordship," began the doorman, speaking loudly so the entire room could hear him, "Sir Richard Markus Forthwellin Nickel-Scythe Pertle the Sixteenth!"

"Father. Sister." His lordship said with a warm smile, taking his seat at the head of the table. As the servants started bringing out food, Sails took his position behind and to the side of his Lordship's chair. Close enough to be on hand, but far enough out of sight to be conveniently ignored. Since the meal was set to be a long one, Sails tuned out a little, and just stared into the middle distance while his thoughts drifted.

As the meal commenced, his Lordship talked about various things that were completely meaningless to Sails, but which apparently had some kind of meaning to his guests. The younger woman seemed to be quite upset that her good-for-nothing brother had turned out to be such a success, while the older man (probably his Lordship's father) seemed almost tearful with quiet joy. From the few words the older man spoke, it was clear that he had feared for his son's ability to take care of himself on Versailles, and this overwhelming success was warming the old man's heart.

It was truly a touching family meal.

Sadly all good things must come to an end, and two hours later it was time for the guests to say goodbye. His Lordship exchanged frosty nods with his sister, and endured an emotional hug from his father with good grace. They walked together to the reception hall, with Sails trailing behind. The journey was over quickly, and soon they found themselves in the Grand Reception Hall once more, where the ever-efficient porters handed back the bags and cloaks. Waving a final goodbye, the young woman signaled their ship, and the guests beamed out of the estate, accompanied by the anticlimactic sound of their cut-price transporter.

There was a pause as his Lordship smiled to himself, sadly.

"Computer."

beedle-bop

"End Program."

With a fizzle, the estate vanished. So did the servants, the children, and the finery worn by Lord "Rikky", revealing the stained hessian tunic beneath. Sails' outfit was genuine; a reminder of his days as a servant in a shipping magnate's estate long ago. Of course, that estate had been real. Not a holographic forgery, like this one. Now the program was ended, all that was left was the two of them, and a trolley containing the food they had eaten; freshly replicated that morning.

"Here's your fee." Rikky said, handing over a cloth bag, containing barely enough Latinum for Sails' time. It was clear to the handyman that Rikky had fallen on hard times, and simply wanted to reassure his father. That, and rub his faked success in his sister's face. Sibling rivalry could be an ugly thing, Sails mused.

"So," Sails said, feeling free to speak his mind now that he had been paid, "that padd you gave me. The one with your 'history' on it."

"Yeah?" Rikky asked, grabbing the trolley of food and wheeling it towards the holodeck exit.

"That was all lies, yes?"

"Yeah."

"OK."

=^= End of Log =^=

Sails-at-Dawn
Civilian
USS Versailles

 

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