Better to ask Forgivenes than Permission...

[Marnark]

He hadn't asked to keep the project when he'd stepped down from Weyrleader. He simply had. It helped a lot that the Northern Lords were familiar with him and apparently just didn't know any better. Weyrleader anymore or not, he was still a foremost Wingleader, irrefutably. That and A'lez was A'lez. He was used to trading off certain duties with D'seus and that was it. All these young upstarts were a new facet that he wasn't quite used to having around, and he wasn't even entirely sure he approved of the idea of someone so young attempting to run the Weyr either.

There was a reason why a Bronzerider usually spent turns as a Wingleader before he ever made it to Weyrleader. But a new Queen from a different time had seriously mixed things up. Apparently she had no idea which Bronzes were the experienced ones. It was all he could chalk it up to, since Queens usually had a good sense for what was good for the Weyr.

Unless that was a new evolutionary trait, which he wasn't entirely sure was the case at all.

Either way ... eventually he had to report what he'd been up to. So A'lez rolled up his parchments and headed for the Weyrwoman's weyr, where her office was located and she was most likely to be found. Unless she was out boozing in the hall again. He figured he stood a better chance with her half tipsy than he did with the youngster of a Weyrleader. Who wouldn't be Weyrleader for very long anyway. Better to have a stable idea what was going on with a leadership figure that was going to be there until she dropped dead of one reason or another. Somehow he doubted it would be old age for this one.

Reaching her door, A'lez drew up short and rapped sharply on the door with his hard knuckles before waiting for a response.

[Lady Smara]

Silence.

It was all that meet the Wingleader after his knuckles had rapt upon the wooden door that lead to the Weyrwoman’s office. If it were not for a casual glance up toward her Weyr as she left the Lower Caverns, Sakorai would have continued her way to the Hatching Sands to sit with Issarith once more and their clutch. Seeing a rider at her door, however, had the Weyrwoman pausing and covering her eyes from the sun to get a better look.

A’lez? To be honest she was surprised that she had bumped into him only a handful of times since the flight – she had thought that the man who had single-handedly run the Weyr for so many turns would have not been so willing to give up the seat. She had looked forward to his complaining and had been left disappointed.

Well. At least this would give her the opportunity to clean up. Making her way up the stairs two at a time, she watched him turn at the sound of her foot falls and she gave him a wide smile. Maybe a little too wide. Dressed in grease covered leggings and a shirt who’s sleeves had been torn off and the rest of it tied into a knot at the back so her waist was shown but the material was out of the way, she looked a mess. Her hair wasn’t helping, having flecks of grease there as well. And the smell…. The smell was overpowering of numbweed and her hands were stained green.

“I’d shake your hand in welcome, Wingleader, but I’m afraid then neither of us will be feeling our hands for some hours. Come in, and what brings you here?”

[Marnark]

A'lez took in the sight of the Weyrwoman approaching from the hall instead of the weyr, and didn't bat an eye. If anything he was more pleased to note that she was actually doing something, rather than sitting on her ass doing nothing but paperwork and expecting to get served hand and foot. Good. Without a word he opened her door for her and stepped aside to allow her to pass him to the interior. "Greetings, Weyrwoman." He answered in kind, following her through and closing the door once he'd passed the threshold. "I am merely reporting on the latest happenings in the North, now that I have something comprehensive to report." He answered, watching as she attempted to wash the grease and numbweed off her hands.

He couldn't help but wonder what exactly she'd been doing. Making numbweed salve usually didn't involve immersing one's self up to the elbows in the stuff. But it was not the reason why he was there and he wasn't going to deviate from his mission. Maybe later, if there was ample room for such lines of questioning. Even so - it was still good that she was making more use of herself than just a figurehead.

"I'll give you a moment before I launch into the gist of it." He allowed, figuring that she was going to want to clean up substantially more than just slightly, given her appearance. A'lez hadn't had much dealings with her yet, but as a general rule he was aware that Gold riders tended to be as aware of their appearance as the Golds themselves.

[Lady Smara]

“Of happenings in the North?” She repeated, frowning at the water and its lack of removal when it came to the numbing feeling in her hands. Ah well, even if she couldn’t feel that it had come off, she could see that most of the mess was at least partially removed. Her frown, however, turned into a smirk while her back remained turned toward the Bronze Rider.

It is a wise man who reports to me and not to the Weyrleader. she thought to herself before schooling her face into a more womanly smile as she turned to look over her shoulder. “I’m surprised you don’t find J’ldaem a more comfortable suitable one to report to, with him having been from your Weyr longer than I have.” She said, poking and prodding. She was not deaf and had heard that there were already some who did not feel she was right to have taken the Senior Weyrwoman position so deftly from Rhiannoth who had been born in the Weyr.

Even so, she also knew that J’ldaem had taken his position as Weyrleader just as deftly as she had and wanted to know how the man felt about it. Bumping into him so rarely had never given her a suitable chance to find out.

“Come into my Weyr, I have cooled juice and better chairs. Besides, I hate the smell of hides.” She said, crinkling her nose before heading to her Weyr herself. Opening the glow basket, she dug in one corner and managed to unbury another basket that held her skin of juice for such occasions and two mugs that were not quite dirty. Setting them on the low table that had three chairs and a couch around it, she turned her back to the man again and let himself deal out the juice while she found a shirt that was not as dirty.

She really needed to find a sucker --- err… candidate who could help her out with those flaming hides as well as taking her laundry to the lower caverns….

[Marnark]

"Yes Ma'am." A'lez answered simply, with the patience of a cliff. He was far more observant than one, however. He naturally did not see the smirk, but he did see the slight change in posture, the hesitation in her movements. It alerted him that she was up to something in that head of hers. What, he wasn't sure. But he was aware.

And there it came. A comment about the Weyrleader, a prompting for his opinion. She was fishing and hoping he'd bite. Lucky for her, A'lez was one that believed in open communication ... and beyond that, honest statement. "No offense, Weyrwoman, but J’ldaem is wet behind the ears and wouldn't understand half what I would try to tell him. He's also gotten a bite of ego from having won Weyrleadership at such a young age... no fault of his, it is chronic with younger riders." A'lez answered, following her yet again through another entrance into another room.

He moved to the table she left the skins and mugs on, and poured juice into the mugs more out of a sense of civility than any actual desire for a drink. Beyond that, he suspected that any juice in her weyr was laced with something a lot more potent. He didn't smell it yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Reaching across the table, he deposited one filled mug closer to where she was, clearly intending for her to take it and enjoy.

Even if she was somewhat otherwise occupied at the moment with changing her shirt. A'lez didn't bat an eye at such actions. He'd been a Rider for long enough that such things didn't even seem strange or odd to him anymore.

[Lady Smara]

Digging through the pile, Sakorai decided that the pants would just have to wait for later, apparently she had not acquired enough clothes to go so long without hauling the mess to the wash rooms for a sevenday just yet. Kicking the pile back into place, she shrugged and sat down where A’lez had put the juice. Sitting down, she crossed her long legs and picked up the mug, taking a sip from it. It was in fact laced, but not with Quickal. No, that was in several other jugs at the bottom of her dresser. This one was simply laced with spices that gave the juice a bit of a bite.

Not saying that adding quickal wasn’t tempting – nor common for the blonde woman who now reguarded the bronze rider, chewing over his open opinion thoughtfully and with a bit of surprise on her face. She was use to the sneaky, conniving bronzers of old who would work behind eachothers back, confiding only the bits and pieces that suited them and leaving her to paint the rest of the picture by what was not said, rather than what was.

A’lez, however, had given her everything without so much as a blink, leaving her without any room left to wiggle her own assumptions in there. Black and White. Crystal Clear.

She wasn’t sure if she should have been relieved, or if the way he put it so boldly out there should have made her worried. Was he so confident? Or was he truly that easy in her presence? Either way, it rocked her a little and she hid it behind her mug – probably not with much success.

She knew he was here to speak of something to her, but she could not help but wonder if he could answer so plainly and openly if he’d also answer one other question that was plaguing her mind. It took her several minutes of enjoying her Juice before she finally set it down and ran a hand through her hair, leaning forward in the chair once more.

“Well out with it, A’lez. What do you have for me?”

[Marnark]

After Sakorai had settled herself, only then did A'lez take the opposite seat and try his own mug of juice. He was somewhat surprised to learn that it was indeed not laced in the fashion he had expected. Instead it was actually a nice spiced mug. Not that he had anything against consuming liquors, but it was the quantities that had him concerned.

But that was not the only thing of interest in the room either. Watching Sakorai's expressions was most entertaining, and somewhat thought provoking. What she might be thinking he wasn't sure. It was especially hard given she wasn't even from the same time frame. Who knew what her experiences were that she drew from to analyze what she learned. What she considered normal. But watching her reactions was definitely something he paid attention too. Eventually he would come to be able to read them like a book, understand what they meant. That she was trying to hide behind her mug also told him something ... if nothing else it was the most telling gesture she had.

Somehow, he'd surprised her. He wasn't sure how ... whether it was what he'd said about who, or that he'd answered so plainly? It remained to be seen. It also remained to be seen why she'd been surprised at all.

But plain answers, he had plenty of those and he'd been waiting for her to be ready for business. So when she asked, he was ready. He slid the scrolls onto the table and left them there. "These are the figures if you care to go over them. But all I really have is a progress report now that we do have progress. I am not sure if you are aware, but shortly before your arrival I had opened negotiations with the Northern Contenent. With specific Lords, and only in secret of course. It was an action carefully planned in response to an expedition those Lords sent to us a few Turns ago to seek us out.

"I don't have to tell you that Thread is back. But these Lords were smart enough to realize that the bad blood between continents was only going to lead to their extinction. They want us back. Unfortunately, as you are aware, we do not have the numbers to reoccupy the North. This required some solution planning before we answered their query." Indeed, it had taken two different Weyrleadership sessions to truly come up with an answer... and a lot of input from a lot of people. These things took time.

"Casualties are high, in the North. Between the crops being destroyed and general lack of protection. Those that don't get consumed, are starving. This is the basics of what is going on. I have been transporting food goods from the wild forests - not our own crops - to the North to alleviate some of this pressure. It's a drop in the bucket however. The other thing we have been doing, is gradually moving people. A substantial number have been moved, scattered across the South into our Holds where there is room, where integration of Southern and Northern cultures should be smoothest. It's not easy for anyone, but it seems to be going well."

A'lez indicated the scrolls. "These outline how many have been moved to where, and who they are. Children were moved first, as well as the skilled and knowledgable. Room is found for the rest where available. Progress is being made, but there is a lot of work left to do. Housing to build, food to harvest and move, people to move across the ocean... but the easiest part is behind us.

"Thread is bad ... but it is not as thorough as we have been. Soon the Lords that do not agree with this idea, the ones we have been sliding past unseen, they will begin to realize something is up. It is hard to hide completely empty Holds, or the lack of communication from them. Soon, they're going to wake up and realize Dragonriders aren't Myth as they have been thinking. I don't know what is going to happen when they do. Either they are going to want to jump on the band wagon, or they're going to get really pissed and declare war. In my opinion that would be phenomenally stupid ... but these people aren't known for being wise." Declaring war when there was no food, and people were dying already ... it really was laughable at best. Especially when considering what they were challenging were Dragons that had no such hampering factors.

"We've also been running small thread flights over the main Holds themselves, allowing small crops to be salvaged, as well as some housing. This, too, is going to start raising eyebrows when our Hold can gather food and others cannot. Right now it is mostly at our expense that we are operating ... firestone usage, time, manpower, etcetera. These figures are also in the scrolls. But I have calculated it is worth the expense. Soon the tide will turn in our favor. Our Holds are growing at exponential rates due to the inflow. Our manpower is growing, harvests from the wild forests are up as well as expansion to our Holds' active fields. Production is up across the board, and is growing. We should have a broader pool for workers as well as candidates. The mines are already showing increased output as well. Very soon I believe we will recoup our expenditures and make gains against them."

And that was all aside from the fact that they were doing what they could toward what was already their Duty; defending the population against Thread. If in a most unconventional manner. But with being short of enough Wings to defend the whole world, it was the best he could do.

Especially with only having a single Wing to work with now, instead of the whole Weyr.

[Lady Smara]

Sakorai had listened raptly, letting her gaze fall from the man who was speaking only when he mentioned the scroll that held the names and origins of those he had already moved. Crossing her long legs once more, she leaned back and unrolled the scroll, glancing through the lists in quick order. None were any that she recognized – and why should they be? Her friends and family would be long dead by now, their children old and grandchildren adults on the lists. She did, however, notice the lack of Crom Hold from on the lists.

“I take it Crom Hold is one that we are shying away from. Unwelcoming of dragonriders. That doesn’t surprise me.” She said, a little darkly before rolling up the scroll and taking the next from the table as she continued to listen to him speak of exports of goods as well as imports of people. If he calculated a gain, she trusted him. After all, it only made sense and from her little time here, she knew that infusing these Southern Peoples with some trained crafters would do all some good.

“I trust your judgement’s here, A’lez. Please continue to report to me on all of this.” She said, rolling the second scroll and replacing it on the table. She’d look more closely at them when she was in the mood for hides. More than likely over a strong glass of Southern Wine or Quikal. “What I am interested in are these flights you have been flying against thread in the North. Has there been any injuries? Of course I know there have been no casualties, that would not have been able to be kept from me should it have happened, but from the sounds of it, your wing would currently stand as the most experienced in the Weyr, fighting double duty in both your shifts of the Southern Continent as well as the North. Do your riders not feel fatigue? Does such fatigue not lead to injuries?”

[Marnark]

"My wing is pulling extra duties, yes. But no so much in thread flight. They're putting more work in moving people and goods than they are in fighting thread. The thread flights we are running in the North are so small they don't even quite qualify as a short training session. We clear the air only over the main areas of habitation only. The very closest fields and gardens benefit as well simply by proxy because, as you know, the area that a single dragon can clear over a single sweep is quite wide." A'lez answered. "To keep from exhausting my wing, the dragons have been being fed twice as often, usually from wild flocks when we move in to pick up nets of food goods to take North. I have also pretty much ceased any training work the wing would normally have been doing. These dragons are flying every waking moment as it is. At first it was hard and I had to work them in half wing shifts. But as with any work, a body adapts to it and it becomes easier as muscles tone and endurance stretches longer. Now the whole wing can easily work everything that needs to be done and still get back to bed at a decent hour for good rest. I watch them carefully and when someone lags and needs a day off, I assign it to them. Burning out my wing is not something I am trying to do, for sure."

Injuries ... that was one concern of his too. "Injuries do occur. But not so much from threadfall again. Simply due to ratios of time spent. The injuries garnered from fighting thread in the north are minimal, and are easily accounted into the many more counted in from fighting in the South. I have had other injuries however. Such as strained muscles from trying to carry too large of a net with too small of a dragon. I have not tried to explain these to the healers, and most of the time they are chalked up to training follies." A'lez shrugged. "The wing toughened up and learned the reaches of their abilities at the same time, so these injuries do not hardly occur anymore. Thank Faranth. It had me worried for a while."

[Lady Smara]

It was a good answer, one that explained everything she wanted to know on both sides and covered all of the bases. The man was thorough as much as he was straight forward. No matter which way she looked at his answers to her questions, she could find no information that might be left out and to be honest it left her not only without more questions on the topic, but it also left her a bit unsettled. Here was a man, so confident in his actions that he had no need to sneak around and hide. He bared himself to her easily and proudly – and she found no flaws.

It almost turned her on. Almost.

Finishing her mug of the spiced liquid, she put it down thoughtfully. “Then it is safe to assume that all of your wing agrees whole-heartedly with what you do, to be helping so with no complaints thus far to anyone else in the Weyr. Why did you not report sooner of what you have been up to once you lost your position of Weyrleader? Did you think a Queen Rider, born from the North, would have denied you the attempt to help those who cast you out?”

Standing up, Sakorai let out a sigh before turning her back to the man and crossing her arms across her chest. She wanted to say more but it took a moment of shifting her weight to one hip, then to another before the words would come.

“That day that I jumped between, Wingleader. I had been in the South with a small group of bronze and brown riders, selected from several Weyrs to search for a suitable place here that could house so many dragons. We knew hard times were on the way and that harder decisions were yet to be made. In all honesty, we had hoped that the Lords would come to their senses before we had to make it, but we still needed to be ready. The North was on the edge of war and the sight of dragons dying to the hands of men was one I never wanted to see – though even now, 100 turns in the future, I find that it is an unavoidable fact of life. With thread falling around us, the Holdless still feel we are abominations, unfit for taking up their precious land.”

“Cast out first by my family, unloved by my Weyr and being threatened to be chased from the Northern Continent, perhaps I should deny you the right and ability to even help the ancestors of those who caused us to live here, but I can not help to think of what damage and waste has be lain across their land already, and what more is to come. It’s only the beginning of the pass and times are only going to get harder.”

Turning around, she met the man’s hard eyes. “But should they even consider to agree with the Holdless here, they will not go unpunished A’lez. Do not neglect to report to me regularly again.”

[Marnark]

A'lez chuckled slightly. "Why would they complain to the Weyr, when until very recently I was using the entire Weyr's resources to do the exact same thing? The only thing that happened to this plan of action when you assumed command was my manpower was drastically cut, to just my wing. Some of whom are Northern-born anyway. Dragonriders in general, as I am sure you are aware, have a code. We are here to protect, and we are doing nothing but that, in any way we can." A'lez answered. "My wing more than agrees with what we are doing. Some of them wish to do more and I have to hold them back. Their gumption far surpasses their actual ability, unfortunately." And it was never good to run what few dragons you had until they literally plowed themselves into the ground from exhaustion. Giant flying carnivores pile-driving into the ground was never a pretty sight... and also took copious quantities of time to fix.

"The only thing that stopped me from reporting sooner, madam, was time. Not only on my end, but yours. I am busy, as are you. When time allowed - as now - I made my way to your office." He shrugged slightly. "There was no slight intended, or anything untoward. Lives are at stake in this, and personally I find lives more important than customary red tape. I had never passed a thought whether or not you would approve. I was merely doing what I considered to be any dragon rider's duty."

He waited in complete silence as she went through her personal rant of personal done-me-wrongs of her past, of the planet's past, of their history, and how she felt about all of it. Truthfully none of it really surprised him. Even the parts where she sounded like a petulant, put-out child. Slowly, he rose to his own feet, setting his own mug down on the table where he stood. "Truthfully, Weyrwoman, if you were capable of such cold-hearted, duty-breaking decisions, your dragon never would have Impressed to you." He stated simply. Queens, after all, had a sense for these things. As stuck up as they could be, they were more than just the breeders of the population. They were the mothers and protectors of life in general.

"That said, I completely agree with you. I have already impressed upon everyone who is making the move that anyone of any age, any gender, and any standing will be expressly shipped back to the North if they cause any kind of trouble. Whether that is fighting with those who are so graciously taking them in, or any other definition of the concept. Including the Holdless. Who, I regretfully say, were not here before the Weyrs were. We did not move in on 'their land'... they came here with the Weyrs, as Weyr population. Weyrfolk, as it were. A few Holdfolk. The holdless are the people who took a divergent view of how things should be, as the Northerners did so long ago, and took action upon themselves to do something about it. Only instead of turning the Holds, as happened in the North, they ended up getting cast out of them, being the minority. For those who originally came South with the Weyrs were our supporters after all. Sadly, they are also the violent minority, and you know how it's the squeaky wheels that get all the attention." A'lez explained.

"I will report as often as I have anything to report. Most of them will probably be written reports delivered by flitters, as time constraints allow. I felt the initial report should be in person, thus why you haven't had any of that type thusfar." He nodded, promising to fulfill her demands of more regular reports on the project.

[Lady Smara]

((Post from my phone, excuse crappiness...))

Sakorai could not help but relax and almost smirk at the mention of squeeky wheels getting all of the attention. It was something that might have once been said about her from her last Senior Weyrwoman. Ah, but if there was one thing Sakorai had learned to turn to her advantage, it was all that noise she could make when things were not going as they should. Sakorai was a master at squeeking wheels.

"You are right, they are a squeeky wheel. One that needs to be well repaired. I feel confident in your abilities to handle what you have begun with the North. Pray-tell, A'lez, how would you suggest handling the problem of the Holdless? I find myself curious of your opinion on the matter."

Unwrapping her arms from her slender waist that had never held a child, she slinked back to the table where she refilled the cup with the spiced juice. Instead of returning to her chair, however, she lowered her slender form to the edge where she crossed her legs, the distance between them reduced by half.

She couldn't help herself as she let her eyes wander over him again. He had been the Weyrleader when she had arrived - his bronze bold enough to restrain Issarith in her delerium. His bronze would have won the flight if J'ldeam's had not sparked Issarith's fury. How diffrent would it have been to be bedded by this man rather than young J'ldeam? Oh there were similarities, but there were far more diffrences between the two men.

[Marnark]

A'lez watched as she moved about, refilling her mug and returning to a much closer proximity. He betrayed no expression toward it, or that he even made note of it. Though it was by far something he did make note of. It told him quite a bit about her personality type, for one. Something he did need to know.

"Greasing that particular wheel is a tricky prospect." A'lez answered simply. For a moment, it seemed as if it was all he was going to say on the topic. But ultimately he did go on to elaborate. "The original Holdless all had their reasons whiles and such to be the way they were, to have the political standing that they did. But it has been so very long since the original Holdless were formed, that this is no longer the case. These people are now more of a brainwashed type, having inherited the belief and hatred of Weyrs from their parents. None, or very few of them actually have any self indulgent reason to hate us, other than they were taught to do so. This is made expressly evident by the examples of the few Holdless that have since been more or less forced into integration with the Weyr in the most permanent fashion. This is also expressly true of the youngsters. They are doing what they are told is right, with no real idea why it should be right, or even any real back ground or history to hold such a belief.

"That said, they are still a dangerous bunch, and belief is a powerful thing. These men and women have trained themselves in their hatred, and are not only fully capable but fully willing to kill to back it up." He leaned back in his seat and spread both large hands open. "So lies the conundrum. Do we wage what is basically a religious war based on belief of wrongs perceived to a past generation, or do we try to envoy and make peace? Any attempt to make peace would be nigh impossible however, given hostilities that have arisen, especially of late. Quite a few lives have been lost and memory is a long thing when blows like that are dealt."

He sighed slowly, and shrugged. "It is not merely a matter of wholesale burning them out of their forest homes and calling it a day. They really do think they are right. But yet they are so very wrong. We have our wrong moments, too. But I daresay that I do not think that we are as wrong in our traditions as they are in theirs. I would like to think, that if rounded up in smaller groups and separated out ... especially the impressionable youngsters ... we might be completely capable of converting the Holdless into functionable members of society once more. Especially when they see what civilized life can be like, compared to squatting under a bush or in a cave. Or - more importantly - how the Weyr holds no ill will to any of the people it is sworn to protect. Our motions with the North might be beneficial in this effort actually, we are taking in and sheltering those who long ago drove us away. That is a rather large declaration of character I think."

Again he paused for a moment before continuing on with another thought. "We would have to be careful how that would be handled, however. We could not merely lock them up and treat them as prisoners. That would defeat the whole point of trying to break the brainwashing. However, we also cannot let them run rampant in our walls... who knows what dastardly things might be committed before they are capable of seeing the truth."

A'lez held her gaze steadily for the entire thought, adding as an ending; "It is not an easy thing. Some will ultimately have to be executed. Not only for crimes committed, but especially the older members will undoubtedly not be capable of breaking the brainwashing of their forebears, and thus be far too dangerous to be left run with the commonfolk."