An Audience

The captain adjusted his katana at his side, ensuring it sat at the perfect angle. His eye was critical as he scrutinized one final inspection, and waved his hand over the door-chime.
The sound pierced the hum of Fusaichi’s engine’s as the door swished open.
A Kishkan Samurai answered, its armor gleaming from the overheads. Its eyes were steel, it’s mouth down-turned and critical.
“H’ay!” it gave a short bow.
“I seek a word with My Lady,” bowed the captain.
A deep voice from the chamber beyond barked, “Takakhan Koichi’son!”
“Sensei Tran,” the captain bowed respectfully, but there was distrust in his face.
“Leave us,” Tran waved at the samurai paladin. It bowed, and moved with grace, away. “How can I help you, Captain?”
“The accomadations?”
“Barely satisfactory”
“May I ask how my Sister is? and what her business is in New China?” Kochi asked.
“She rests!” replied the Kishkan Guard, “As for her business? It is none of yours! IS that all?”
Captain Koichi bowed, and the door swished shut. He turned away,

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