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[color=1E90FF][b]Time[/b]: Around 1 pm[/color]
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Polished brightwork gleamed beneath the glare of the early afternoon sun. Neatly bundled ropes creaked as they swayed with their heavy tackles in the gentle breeze. Furled and tightly lashed, the [i]Sada Kurau[/i]’s distinctive crimson sails looked like giant caterpillars clinging to their yardarms. Her crew had performed their tasks handsomely and far beyond what Sjan-dehk had expected. With just little over an hour to prepare for a royal visit, he would’ve been satisfied had they simply swabbed the decks and patched up the more obvious damages. 

He would have to give the men a well-deserved reward later. 

[color=1E90FF]“[i]Kan sedarjah, tapat! Tapat sedarjah![/i]”[/color] The terse parade commands felt strange on his tongue even as he shouted them. There just wasn’t that much use for them aboard his ship. His [i]Sada Kurau[/i] spent almost all her time at sea and on patrol. Matters of decorum were well at the bottom of Sjan-dehk’s list of priorities and besides, the annual naval reviews and occasional parades rarely involved small ships like his. That suited him just fine; Sjan-dehk wanted sailors of substance, not just those who looked nice in overly-clean uniforms and knew only how to march in cadence.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel frustration welling in his chest as he watched the half-dozen men before him fumble with their rifles. Looking at how they clumsily brought their weapons off their shoulders and held it vertically before their faces, one would be hard-pressed to believe that these same men were capable of putting a bullet squarely between the eyes of a man from over two hundred paces away. 

[color=1E90FF]“These are the best we have, are they?”[/color] Sjan-dehk asked in a dry murmur, his voice only just audible over the clacking of arms and barely-restrained swearing of the chosen sharpshooters. 

Standing beside him, Mursi nodded sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, captain.” Even in just two words, the apologetic tone of his voice was evident. “They’re the only ones who remember their drills. It’s been a long time since we’ve had to go on parade, captain.” He visibly cringed as one of his men failed to grasp their rifle properly and dropped it. “I’ll be sure to schedule more drill–”

[color=1E90FF]“Don’t bother,”[/color] Sjan-dehk interrupted with a shake of his head. [color=1E90FF]“I doubt we’ll be doing more of this. We can just have them stand at attention next time. No need for this pointless fucking about.”[/color]

“This ‘fucking about’ – as you put it, young marcher prince – is what will give our guests their very first impressions about our illustrious navy.” From Sjan-dehk’s other side came the sharp words of the last voice he wanted to hear. “A navy which – if I may remind you, young marcher prince – you swore to uphold the honour and dignity of.”

“Yes, yes, most knowledgeable one. I remember my oath.” Sjan-dehk didn’t even bother hiding the disdain and impatience in his voice when he responded to the royal tutor. The old man’s presence on the launch that had ferried Avek and Mursi back from the [i]Sudah[/i] had been a surprise, and it had taken no time at all for Sjan-dehk to realise that it was, unfortunately, of the unpleasant sort. Against his very vocal and very colourful protests, the royal tutor had insisted that his Sada Kurau offer the king a proper welcome worthy of his stature. An obvious decision to some, perhaps, but all Sjan-dehk cared about was that they had only just finished a long and arduous journey. An unnecessary parade was the last thing his crew needed.

He placed his hands on his hips and chewed on his lip as he surveyed the men. Their uniforms were clean enough for a simple inspection, but certainly not for a parade. They’d need more steaming and pressing for that. It was the best they could manage, and so it would have to do. [color=1E90FF]“[i]Paansilan![/i]”[/color] Sjan-dehk shouted, and after a brief pause, the men shuffled back to their previous stance – feet together, rifles slung behind their right shoulder, and a hand on the strap. Sjan-dehk waited for a moment, then shouted the command for an armed salute once more. 

As expected, the sharpshooters were far from fluid and crisp in their motions. A little smoother and with less fumbling than before, Sjan-dehk had to admit, but far from what was acceptable. It would have been amusing to watch were the situation not so dire. The king and his entourage were surely already on their way. Time was running out. [color=1E90FF]“See?”[/color] Sjan-dehk gestured to the men and turned to look at the royal tutor. [color=1E90FF]“If they’re not getting it now, they’re not getting it by the time the king gets here. We can have them just stand at attention and look…Soldier-like. It was good enough for other kings, why not this one?”[/color]

“[i]Self-proclaimed[/i] kings,” the royal tutor pointed out. “None of them recognised as such by anyone other than themselves, and from what I’ve been told, all of them you later killed in battle.” Sjan-dehk looked back at the sharpshooters and said nothing. Unperturbed, the tutor continued. “This is an actual king, seen by his people as their liege, and whose lands we are currently guests of. Surely even you can see that there is a marked difference, young marcher prince. We must show the proper decorum.”

Sjan-dehk snorted. [color=1E90FF]“Only thing we’re showing at this rate is our bare arses in the wind.”[/color]

“Might make for a better salute,” Mursi quipped. “At least they’ll leave laughing instead of thinking that we’re the worst sailors to have ever graced their harbour.”

That brought a smirk to Sjan-dehk’s lips. [color=1E90FF]“They know almost nothing about us. We could probably feed them some horseshit about how that’s our ways and they’d buy it wholesale.”[/color] 

“Yes, and they’d think of Viserjanta as a land of uncivilised barbarians.” It was clear by the royal tutor’s tone that he didn’t see the humour in the captain’s suggestion, unlike Mursi, who could barely contain his laughter. He tilted his chin towards the assembled sharpshooters. “We still have time, young marcher prince. I’m sure a man of your calibre can instil them with the discipline to perfect their movements.”

[color=1E90FF]“Oh, you flatter me, most knowledgeable one,”[/color] Sjan-dehk replied flatly. He wasn’t even completely sure that he could remember the proper procedure to greet the king. At least, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t forget it all in the heat of the moment. 

Well, that could be a problem for later. As just one person, he could probably just make something up on the spot and the king would be none the wiser. These sharpshooters, however, needed to at least move in full unison lest they look like a bunch of uncoordinated fools. [color=1E90FF]“[i]Paansilan[/i],”[/color] he said with a sigh. It was unlikely the men would be able to get the salute down perfectly by the time the king arrived, but drilling them was the only way to shut the royal tutor up. He could always give them a change of instruction at the very last minute. The old man wouldn’t be able to stop him.