News and Stories from the Vilnius Union

Started by The Rock Doctor, May 27, 2018, 08:14:09 PM

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Kaiser Kirk

#255
The Coronation ball was a delightfully grand event, swirls of elegantly garbed folks dancing. Even without the formal robes, the modern Parthian court garb, with it's short satin dresses exposing silk clad legs and heeled shoes was presumably scandalous to the far more heavily garbed locals, in their long dresses barely showing a risque ankle. Even the hairstyles were drastically different, with the Parthians carefully braided and coiled and pinned into place. Curiously none of the local women bore weapons, not even the small daggers common in Parthia.  The gentlemen blended in better as their tunic and breeches simply were odd, and not a breach of polite decorum, but as a royal party of odd foreigners who was going to berate them. Further, after days of accumulating curious looks, Shirin and the others  had become somewhat inured to being curiosities, and were secure in the knowledge that Parthia was well respected among the world's great nations. Parthia had a long athletic tradition which included dances, and foreign dance styles were eagerly learned, and so those at the ball were well known.

Despite their appearance, or perhaps because their exotic nature, they did not lack for dance partners.   Which delighted some, and wearied others. The higher the rank, the more in demand one seemed. So after a sea of dances, Shirin found a hole in the crowd and sought a bit of solace over by the nearest wall, which frankly was a bit more her style. A  gentleman was displaying his broad back to the crowd there, by his garb one of the local nobles. She could not tell if he was admiring the portrait of some presumably dead king, of the floral arrangement of polearms he was blocking. Personally, she found old weapons fascinating, well pretty much any weapon, it was really a shame that folks did not appreciate the art and craft that went into them, letting her thoughts flow, she commented in Greek.

"While the spears and pole axes are classical weapon easily derived from tools and hunting implements, it is the hybrid ones that should interest you as they speak well of the ingenuity of the folks that came before. The halberd there, is an amazing tool for a footman to take on an armored rider, the butt-cap allows one to brace it and lower the spear, the hook on the back can dislodge the rider, and pole creates a lever giving the axe tremendous power to crack the weak points in the armor folks used to wear.  The current version ceremonial guards use is too short of course, a lance would be longer."

Stepping forward and pointing at one she continued

"that one there, with the odd beak, is called a Bec De Corbin,, but the beak replaces the halberd axe and can punch a hole in pretty much anything a rider might be wearing. While my nation fielded some of the first armored horsemen, our style and climate never lent itself to the full plate of your nation, the engineering of something like that <pointing to a gothic suit in the corner> with the fluting for additional strength and deflection, it's brilliant'.

Spying an old rifle with a curious circular action "Is that a wheellock? How marvelous, do you know how much craftsmanship went into one of these?"

Finally, turning and looking up at her compatriot, she thought at first he looked very familiar, she should know this one....and then she remembered the blur of introductions and seeing him from distance for several days, and then she blushed lightly realizing she'd been babbling to someone who knew this already.

"Oh, your Highness, I ...I did not recognize your back.  I suppose you already know your ancestral weaponry, after all this is your families palace.... terribly sorry to bother you"
Did they beat the drum slowly,
Did they play the fife lowly,
Did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down,
Did the band play the last post and chorus,
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

TacCovert4

#256
Crown Prince Ali was bored.  Not with the spectacle of the Coronation Ball, that was fantastic.   Or with the lack of a bunch of fathers boring functionaries that had been foisted on him for protocol, he was inwardly chuckling in the knowledge that they were still a day out and he had only to contend with the embassy personnel.

And he had no trouble with finding dance partners,  neither did his wingman.   The young Flight Officer Necalli indeed was taking a turn around the floor with a countess as he watched,  the brilliant white high collared jacket with medals and royal blue trousers with bloodstripes indicating a combat tour in the war giving the son of a steam fitter clout in a world of royalty.

No. He was bored with being Crown Prince.  He had, as old men had said, "seen the elephant", and he enjoyed it.  Talking about politics and high society matters with various well born women as they turned the floor was frankly exhausting.  So he stood by the wall, idly fingering the hilt of his flyssa, one of the few of station enough that the Vilnius Crown security would allow him to bear ceremonial arms....they had been somewhat shocked to be reminded that the Aztec swords weren't dull ceremonial affairs,  but rather razor edged tools of a society that still allowed judicial combat.

He looks over, seeing the Vilnius Prince looking equally bored with this affair.   And the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen pointing out all of the varieties of pole arms on the wall. 

He strides over,  maybe the party wasn't a waste after all.
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

TacCovert4

Hearing Princess Shirin apologize for talking about the display, Ali pipes up "No, please,  continue.  We have a different history of weapons at home, and this is far more interesting than state politics and the other things to talk about here"
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

Kaiser Kirk

Princess Shirin hears the approaching steps and turns to find the dashing Aztec Prince Ali approaching, and hearing his words of encouragement, beams a little.
"Prince Wiktor, I believe we are graced by the presence of Prince Ali, he's a combat pilot you know, I have to say he's quite the talk of the ladies in my entourage. 
Prince Ali, I thank you for your kind words but I can't imagine you two wish to hear what I have to say on this matter"

<On being assured she is incorrect...>

"Well then, while I am far more inclined towards hunting and riding, I do have an academic bent in some regards,  I've simply always been fascinated by the ingenuity of those that came before, both the ancient engineers and of military history,  and if you consider the evolution of weaponry is testimony to that. Look at the tremendous strides of aircraft once military funds were poured in, <gestures to Ali> now some lucky few can dash about the air, it must be glorious"

..and then she merrily prattles on about the mechanism of the wheellock and the relative expense, as well as the caracole executed by cavalry with them, then moving down the armorial display. What begins with her holding court evolves to a three way scholarly discussion with the the gentlemen interjecting their own observations and knowledge while the coronation ball passes onwards behind them...
Did they beat the drum slowly,
Did they play the fife lowly,
Did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down,
Did the band play the last post and chorus,
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

TacCovert4

Hearing Princess Shirin talk about the aeroplane,  Ali lights up.  "Indeed, even the first fighters the sultanate had could barely make a hundred knots with a tailwind.  Now even our floatplanes can make better than a hundred and fifty,  and I've seen prototypes even faster.  Soon they'll have to close the cockpit lest the pilot be buffeted too much."

After a few more minutes of conversation,  he asks "my lady,  would you care to see a combat aircraft?"

Shirin replies, "We have many in Parthia,  I've seen quite a few"

Ali smiles "From the cockpit at two thousand meters?"
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

Kaiser Kirk

Shirin turns and looks up to Prince Ali with a quizzical smile and calculating gaze
"Unfortunately not, my brother deems them too dangerous for me to learn to fly, I don't suppose you are suggesting you have room for a passenger?  Why, for a diplomatic mission, I suppose I could take you up on an offer such as that ...should it come up..." 
Did they beat the drum slowly,
Did they play the fife lowly,
Did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down,
Did the band play the last post and chorus,
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

TacCovert4

Tomorrow morning, perhaps?  The morning sun should be beautiful on the snow that seems to dot the area constantly.
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

The Rock Doctor

"I'll keep my feet on the ground like a good infantryman," Wiktor said with a hint of smile, not that he'd heard an invite to go flying with them.  "But I will send word to the aerodrome that you'll be aloft.  Foreign aircraft aren't too common in this part of the Union and I have a hunch your original flight may have triggered some thinking about air defence protocols that perhaps wasn't being thought of earlier."

He glanced back at the nearest entrance to the ballroom as the orchestra struck up some unfamiliar, solemn number.  "This has been a delightful break from the pomp and circumstances.  Sadly, I suppose I've got to return to the main theatre of diplomatic operations for a while yet.  My sister-in-law - the Queen, as she's now insisting I refer to her - seems rather determined to pair me up with possible marriage candidates tonight and I suspect I have a full dance card waiting for me.  However, if you're both interested, the family has a country estate a short distance outside the city.  I'd be happy to host you both for drinks, perhaps some shooting, and if the sky is clear, perhaps some sky-watching.  There's a telescope on the grounds and I don't think I've forgotten how to operate it."

Noting the approach of one of new queen's ladies in waiting, he hastily added, "Feel free to bring along an aide or attendant or such if protocol requires it.  They can be accommodated."

The lady-in-waiting arrived, curtsyed, and said to each in turn, "Your Highness.  Your Highness.  Your Highness.  The Queen asked that I inquire if Prince Wiktor was available to rejoin the festivities?"

"Of course, Annika, I'll be there shortly," Wiktor confirmed.

Annika curtsyed again.  "Thank you, Your Highness.  Your Highness.  Your Highness."

As the woman withdrew, Wiktor remarked dryly, "Duty calls."  He bowed, turned partly away, then corrected himself.  "Princess, should the opportunity arise, I'd be pleased to dance this evening."

TacCovert4

[The Next Morning]

Princess Shirin arrived at the Aerodrome, bundled up in what she had, but worried it wouldn't be enough against the bitter cold.  Walking through the terminal building, Prince Ali meets her with a bundle in hand.  "Good morning, it is quite a chill this morning, but clear.  I grabbed a few things for you."  The princess notes that Ali is wearing a sealskin jacket that seems to be fur lined, boots, and a relatively heavy coverall that appears to be quilted.  She looks at the bundle, it's another Sealskin jacket, but of a different cut, maybe something from one of the embassy guards, she thinks as she's swallowed up by the large coat, before wrapping herself in the big scarf and putting the goggles on her head.

"Come on, my wingman is waiting for us" Ali says, as they make their way out over the airfield, with its scattered patches of snow, a tractor out with a plow and roller clearing and packing a strip. 

"Wingman?" Shirin asks.  Ali chuckles.  "The one concession the ambassador got out of me this morning, that I not go off 'gallivanting' alone.  Of course, Flight Officer Necalli was more than happy to fly, I think he's in love with the air more than I am."  Shirin looks at the aircraft, both floatplanes, both biplanes, grey, with the brilliant green and gold Aztec colors on them, Necalli's aircraft having white stripes on the wings, and Ali's having black stripes.  "What are those for?" she asks as Ali helps her up onto the wing to get into the cockpit.  "White is the usual color, black stripes identify squadron or group commanders". 

Ali hops into the cockpit, and she sits beside him, realizing that this is a 'pursuit' plane, not an 'observation' or 'bomber', and there is only a single cockpit, which makes for a relatively tight squeeze.  "Contact" Ali calls down to the Wilno ground crew, and the prop spins, the engine catching.  In moments she's buffeted by a tremendous roar as the radial engine throttles up to takeoff power, the aircraft trundling along the runway.   

"READY?" Ali says, and Shirin nods.  Ali pulls his goggles down over his eyes, and she belatedly apes him as they begin to pick up speed down the cleared airstrip before bumping, bumping, and then everything smooths out as they leave the ground.  Looking down she can see the city is already about its daily bustle, the smoke of trains moving along the railroads in the distance, and the shrinking forms of people, horses, automobiles and houses as they climb into the morning sky, her face chilled as she pulls the scarf higher. 

They swoop over the skyline, before Ali makes a few hand motions outside the cockpit.  He looks at her, and asks "Ready?"  Shirin gives him a quizzical look before he violently jerks the stick, the plane roaring over onto its side and then down, down.  Shirin clutches Ali and screams before he suddenly completes the loop and the two planes level off, just a hundred feet above the barge traffic on the Neris River.  Ali laughs as he sweeps the nimble aircraft in lazy turns, staying away from the smoke of river traffic as Shirin elbows him before giggling herself.  They then climb, higher, above a couple of lingering clouds from the morning's fog, until the houses are all tiny blocks below them, and Shirin's breath is like she is on a high mountain in Kwarzem.  Ali motions around her, and she untucks herself from her warmer spot nestled up with him, taking in the view of the river and woods, with the city off to her left and even out to her right, on the horizon, the sea. 

Maybe an hour later, the two aircraft bank into the pattern and begin their descent.  Shirin notes a larger three engine aircraft departing from the Aerodrome with the colors and insignia of the Union's official mail carrier.  Coming in, the pair of floatplane fighters slow, almost floating on the ground, and she notes the intense look of concentration on Ali's face briefly as he makes adjustments before he pulls back on the throttle and with a bump they return to earth, coasting to a stop before he uses the engine to pull them back towards a hangar.  As he shuts it down, he says "So, what did you think?"
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

Kaiser Kirk

#264
For Shirin, the morning had been a bit of a blur. Her sparring session with her attache had proven her mind was on the adventure before her,  and unsure quite what would be involved, she had avoided a breakfast beyond simple bread. Attire was another problem, from her adventures in the mountains of Gilan she was aware of the cold bitter winds of altitude, and she was concerned the flight would be a similar experience. While Rangers served in winter on the steppe,  this sudden diplomatic trip had not seemed appropriate for her winter military uniforms, rather the trip seemed to call for dresses which tended towards the flattering and not focused on warmth.  She had brought a single winter riding outfit,  in case the Wilno court fancied a jaunt. A richly adorned green jacket fitted over a heavy tunic, while thick cream-colored leather breeches tucked into high chocolate riding boots that came over her knee. Underneath, silken undershirt and trousers provided some additional warmth.   Prince Ali did not make fun of her lack of appropriate attire, but instead proffered a outfit of 'sealskin', for which she found the greek word was not one she knew, but it had fine dense fur.

Ali and his "Wingman" had a pair of aircraft ready. They were not truly designed for two, which made for a close acquaintance, which was not unwelcome.  Ali kindly explained the stripes and codes on the planes. Shirin had visited the aerodromes supporting the Khorosan front, and Parthian planes were painted much different, with each half a different color – saffron and a bright green- with a bright red tail, which she had been told was to help them keep formations. Her brother had forbade any of the heirs from trying piloting, so she had never been so close to the machine when the engine sputtered then roared to life. She was quite glad the cap had padded earflaps, but had to belatedly pull down the goggles to protect her eyes, while a traditional Parthian scarf wrapped her head and face beneath them.

The plane rushed down the runway and lifted into the air. The altitude was low enough that she could see the city and it's bustle laid out before her, though she could not say what was where, or where was North was, as things rushed by below. Just as she starts to get comfortable, Ali shouted something, and the relative pull of gravity changed to a new direction and plunges, leading to a sudden cry and a clutch by Shirin, which caused Ali much mirth, which led Shirin to briefly consider revenge, but then the unfolding scenery distracted her, and she decided to let it go this time and just settle in and enjoy. 

Which she did, the miles melted away below, and the prosperous lands of Wilno sped past below. The pressure of the wind rushing past, the sting of the cold, the feel of the craft reacting to the wind, all were a marvelous experience, far more alive and exhilarating than gliding high above in a zeppelin.

On landing, Ali asked "So, what did you think?"  to which she responded "That, was...fantastic. So different and in the pursuit craft you can feel everything around you, it's just marvelous, thank you so much for showing off for me !"  Further small talk followed, but they needed to part and return to their respective lodgings.

After a meal and bath, she prepared for the afternoon's activity, receiving unsolicited advice on appropriate attire from her ladies, bending to consensus and wearing a dress instead of breeches, those could be stashed in the automobile.  A discussion of decorum on visiting a house settled on the need for her attache to attend.  Her coterie of eligible nobles had invitations of their own to attend to that evening, and she supposed she would see them then.
The automobile ride to Prince Wicktor's family estate was longer than expected, but allowed a more up close look at the prosperity of the land. Obviously far better endowed with rainfall than much of Parthia, fields and forest abounded, much more like Gilan, but flat, very flat.  The 'Country Estate' was a sprawling building showcasing several architectural styles, obviously an old holding that had been expanded and remodeled. A large tower in the rear corner hinted of it's origination in a castle, which had been built out in a manor house and updated.  A large circular drive passed through a large covered entryway, allowing guests to exit free of snow or rain. A sweeping porch with delicate columns would undoubtedly be delightful in summer, but still offered a stunning view of the grounds.

Shirin had arrived before Ali, and was shown to the host, Prince Wicktor.  While waiting, the conversation started with the weather, then turned to the morning's flight and her delight in it, and then stumbled onto the building's architecture, before turning to what Wicktor used the estate for, at which point they discovered a mutual appreciation of the hunt. From the traditional noble's role of eliminating animals which raided farms, and the more elegant art of stalking deer and larger game. Their conversation rambled as they waited.
Did they beat the drum slowly,
Did they play the fife lowly,
Did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down,
Did the band play the last post and chorus,
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

TacCovert4

Ali tore up the road, occasionally looking down at the directions he had been given to Prince Wiktor's lodge.  "Would have been easier from the air" he mutters, the engine in the embassy's touring car growling as he double-clutched through the gears, treating the more leisurely car like he would his own modern 'coupe', as the Romans called them.  Finally reaching the driveway, he reduces his speed from insane to merely near-insane, coasting down as he approaches the lodge before stopping.  He gets out, his flight jacket over a simple but crisp shirt and slacks, with shoes, his black hair combed neatly.  If the weather wasn't so cold, he could have ditched the jacket for something more fashionable, but at least his jacket was comfortable, and he had to admit he was proud to be one of a very few who could show combat kills on a flight jacket in Vilnius.

"I apologize for being late, I cannot claim to be able to read the road signs, there were a few wrong turns" he smiles as he's shown inside.

His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

The Rock Doctor

"You'll fit right in.  The locals claim most drivers don't understand the signs, either," Wiktor shrugged.  "But be cautious, as a lot of riding animals...and their riders...aren't accustomed to automobiles quite yet, and the local laws often favor them in the case of a mishap.

"Shirin and I were talking about the estate and its role in the household.  You likely noticed the hayfields out front, not unlike the farms around us, but the bulk of the property is, for all intents and purposes, managed wilderness.  A refuge for wildlife.  You can find deer, wolves, boars, mink...occasionally lynx or moose.  No bears in my lifetime, but my father claimed to have seen one once.

"At any rate, I thought we might spend the morning out riding and hunting, although we're not likely to see deer or wolves at this time of day."

This being agreeable, the first order of business was to ensure everybody was dressed for the weather, which was still below freezing.  Shirin and her attache had a change of clothes in their car, but Ali's was apparently still aboard one of the Aztec warship.  Once measurements were taken, the estate staff had located suitable loaner attire and directed the visitors to different places to change.

The stable housed approximately forty horses, along with a small herd of goats used to keep the grounds under control.  A few of the horses were retired and basically pets at this point, a few others young enough that they were still being broke to ride.  The Parthian ladies had been invited to select their mounts first, and Shirin spent some time examining several options and quizzing the stable staff before settling on a younger gelding named Grzmot ("Thunder") for herself and recommended an older gelding named Bialastopa (for his single white foot) for her attache/chaperone, who readily accepted the advice.  Ali had selected a stallion named Szybki ("Swift") and Wiktor, who hadn't had a chance to ride in some time, opted for a mature mare named Maryja.  Animals were tacked up, rifles distributed with a quick primer (mostly for the attache's benefit), and the four set out, a small gaggle of retainers trailing behind at a modest distance.

The weather was certainly not ideal for the occasion, being mostly cloudy with intermittent flurries throughout, and true to Wiktor's predictions, no deer or wolves were sighted, though they did sight tracks from both species.  The horses had little trouble navigating the snow but the ride was sometimes choppy where the depths were deeper and the animals had to make more of an effort.  The trails were in good condition in all other respects, however, with no deadfall to surmount or errant branches to dodge. 

Shortly after noon, they returned to the stable, the guests changed back to their original attire, and lunch was served in the form of an elaborate charcuterie board heaped with local smoked and cured meats, cheeses, biscuits, pickles, and preserves. "I've always enjoyed making sausage after a successful hunt, but there's been no time for it overseas," Wiktor mused.  "Some interesting spice combinations, though.  I'll have to buy some in bulk when I get back there.  If I get back there."

"If, Your Highness?" inquired Shirin's attache, Aspas Surena.  Not quite of the same noble rank as Wiktor, Ali, or Shirin, she alone continued to address the two men by their titles.

"I'm third in line now, after my brother's two young children.  I might be asked to stay closer to home in case a regent is required," Wiktor explained.  "Which is a shame, because I was hoping to at least wrangle a deployment to Orimirilandia before that happened.  It was my first choice, in fact, but my mother vetoed that on account of malaria."

"I understand you do have quinine," Aspas noted.  "That your government is scaling up commercial production in Orimirilandia much as we are in Java.  And that malaria is endemic in the areas of Central Eryka that you've served in?"

"Ah...yes," Wiktor agreed, "But Mother was not as well informed, and took the view that the main threat in the Caribbean were the so-called Shrimp-eaters opposing our presence."

"Easier to shoot a person than a disease," Ali observed. 

"That was her thinking also," Wiktor nodded.

Following lunch, Wiktor led them downstairs - two levels down, in fact, where a portion of the expansive basement had been converted to a shooting range.  The armory itself was wells-stocked with everything from an ancient flintlock through muskets and rifles to a squat tripod-mounted machine gun and a large-barreled rifle longer than Aspas was tall.  "It's certainly not a cavalry weapon," Shirin declared, leaning in to examine it.  "Is it a hunting weapon...?"

"It's derived from one," Wiktor confirmed.  "I don't think I'm giving away any secrets in saying that it's an anti-tank rifle that came into service three or four years ago.  It fires a 15 x 95mm round from a four-round magazine.  I've shot one in South Eryka and...it's got some kick to it."

"I look forward to trying it out," Shirin mused.  "But let's start with the black powder, if I can be so bold?"


Kaiser Kirk

In Parthia, there was seen a certain level of skill and elegance in using the older weapons effectively. Looking at the 15mm weapon, she doubted it was no great secret, Parthias was not
"I should say this is magnificent facility, I really should.  As for that beast of a rifle, some other day, I would be interested in firing it, we have similar round we use for a defensive machine gun, you can see them twinned on our warships and many other places, with a clever action that uses the energy of one to activate...act on.. operate...oh, don't think that's the right word, sorry my Greek is not perfect.... but the other but there is a very large rifle version which kicks like an onager- definitely something to use only if one does not care about explaining a lightly bruised shoulder, and when one's formal garmets display that, a possibly difficult conversation. 

The black powder though, I'd love to. The populace to keep such as hunting weapons, and while the Nobility can choose a modern cartridge, many of us choose the older ones as they take a bit more skill. When I was ten there was a brief fad for young men to spear hunt boars, like a modern Ulysses, with similar results. While  I confess to being rather bold at times, and proud of my similarly archaic bow hunting and horse archery skills, I never fancied trying the spear."

After acquainting herself with the firearms, plugging her ears with cotton and donning winter earmuffs, she assumes the lead in firing.   Shirin, both as a child and young adult and later as a mounted Parthian Ranger, has spent a rather large amount time with a variety of weapons (and unarmed), in all sorts of situations. So even with weapons new to her, She's really quite good, and while she does not know how skilled the local ladies are by contrast, she feels that certainly does not embarrass herself. Aspas on the other hand was a Parthian noblewoman, and so had learned the basics of handling, but had pursued  academic knowledge, something highly regarded, but did not lend itself to the range. 

As the quartet trades turns, she asks questions about the weapons, when they were made, who by, what their long range was and what game they were best suited for. Shirin does prattle on at times.
She does observe "Gentlemen, I must thank you for a lovely evening. It saddens me that there are only a little more festivities planned before us, before we shall be called to separate to far corners of the globe. Wicktor has expressed his plan to return to the territories, Ali I presume to Azteca, and I will resume my duties. I'd invite the three of you to visit my family holdings in Gilan sometime, but I can't see how that would happen."
Did they beat the drum slowly,
Did they play the fife lowly,
Did they sound the death march, as they lowered you down,
Did the band play the last post and chorus,
Did the pipes play the flowers of the forest

TacCovert4

"You would presume correctly, your highness" Ali says.  "Unfortunately, my mother would have me at least somewhat close to home, where she can send endless vapid young ladies of court to bump into me.  So naturally, I will be in Arizona, I have an estate there, within reach of the San Diego aerodrome.  You're all welcome to come.  The pronghorn hunting is excellent, though my huntsman tells me that spotting the herd from the air is cheating."

Looking over the 15mm rifle, he chuckles.  "We have a 12mm version that's nearly identical, it was developed during the Caicos War when there were concerns about Roman armored vehicles.  For a while we even equipped our fighters with 12mm machine guns, though when I was in my first squadron we all realized that the 8mm gun was still better for use in the air, because it could carry nearly double the ammunition."  He continues "That's one thing my father pushed for, testing, and it's resulted in the 30mm anti aircraft gun, because even now our aircraft are just too fast, a machine gun is only shooting at a torpedo bomber after it has dropped its torpedo"
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.

TacCovert4

Ali gives Shirin a look "As soon as I can ditch the official fops that get foisted on me to make sure I don't do anything rash, I would love to see Parthia.  I'm sure that I can come up with a reason for diplomatic purposes, I'll remind the diplomatic corps that I am the royal with land nearest to the Parthian border or something"
His Most Honorable Majesty,  Ali the 8th, Sultan of All Aztecs,  Eagle of the Sun, Jaguar of the Sun, Snake of the Sun, Seal of the Sun, Whale of the Sun, Defender of the Faith, Keeper of the Teachings of Allah most gracious and merciful.