"A tournament!" Ziska suggested, positively jumping with glee at the sudden chaos that had overtaken the hanger in mere moments. Hearing her shouting, General Kerensky raised her head lazily and eyed Ziska curiously, but warmly from Reya's lap. Having decided upon her course, Ziska bowed low, in a courtly fashion towards the yawning cat, before continuing. "A tournament for the most virtuous Duchess Daschke's hand. Once we have defeated our present foes that is. General Kerensky will surely permit such a noble competition to take place in her great hanger."

Her voice now free of any vulgarities and mercenary language, Ziska spoke in gentle, luscious courtly tones and with all the formality of a Great House court noble lady.

"It is not right that a highborn women possessing such noble blood, such grace and so many, many wonderful talents should be left unattended among the multitude of rogues, rascals, and villains that can presently be found in our distinguished mercenary company."

"My most honorable person excluded, of course," Ziska quipped, grinning at her newly claimed audience.

Dancing in between Ingrid and Tarak, Ziska gently guided Ingrid backwards and away from the taller MechWarrior. Offering the tip of an invisible hat, Ziska bowed formally at Tarak and channeled her best recollection of a proud knight that she remembered from some ancient tragedy performed in the Magistracy of Canopus, "Tread carefully, MechWarrior Tarak, for should you continue to take such liberties with our most esteemed lady and dare to utter such base accusations again...then I, the most chivalrous and crafty MechWarrior Ziska, great student of courtly love that I am, will have to resolve the matter with great violence."