Mehmet

The Red Keep was like something out of a dream, a tall castle of red stone overlooking a vast body of water nothing felt fully real. Mehmet was unsure how long he had been in the castle, his memories after the attack on the Karlsefni were vague at best. He recalled faces, movements, and days of agony nearly dying if not for Sansa Stark bringing him a medical kit. Nanomachines were miracle workers, he was back on his feet and able to move around again but he was far from fully healed. His body ached horrifically with every step, and he needed a cane to keep steady while moving.

His hosts were the royal family who ruled this castle and allowed him some freedom of movement for which he was grateful. But Mehmet could sense that there were eyes upon him everywhere he went. Most were curious stares from the local staff and visitors, but the experienced Captain had been around the stars enough to know where curiosity ended, and observation began.

Every day his chamber was visited by some matter of Lord, Queen, Knight, and various other titles which were difficult to keep track of in his exhausted mind. Most of the time he enjoyed his fair share of pleasant conversations asking about his health, if his needs were being met, and if he had any requests. But between the polite conversations and shared meals he could tell there was an undertone to everything around here. Questions were near constant they had an insatiable curiosity about everything the Karlsefni, the Union, his crew. Mehmet was just a civilian, but he had seen enough films to know an interrogation when he saw one.

Fortunately, conversation is a two-way street, and he gathered some information during each meeting. He knew he was in the city of King's Landing, the capital of a nation known as the Seven Kingdoms. He knew that said Seven Kingdoms were currently in the midst of a civil war, Mehmet was unable to get the full story but from stray gossip, and passing mentions he was able to gather that some Lords around the country disagreed with the ascension of King Joffrey Baratheon to the throne and had taken up arms after he had executed some noble from the north. There had even been heads mounted on spikes which were thankfully gone by the time he was up and moving around. He had a sinking feeling that the girl who helped him, Sansa Stark, was caught up in all this. Whenever he asked about her the locals quickly changed the subject or simply referred to her as a 'guest', but the choice of wording and the watchful eyes told a different story.

Being the guest of honor at a storybook castle was the kind of thing his daughter dreamed about. However, Mehmet found this particular castle was a far more cynical place than the ones from the stories. This planet was one of ancient warfare where nobility fought over titles and patches of land. Even now somewhere there were armies of knights in shining armor battling to secure victory for their king and his crew was caught in the middle of it. He tried to inquire about his crew but received only partial answers each different from the other.

"We are searching for your crew with all haste." Tyrion Lannister had promised him warmly. "They will be well cared for I assure you."

"Your crew is being located and made safe such is the King's decree," Cersei Lannister Tyrion's older sister reassured him. "The people of the realm shall welcome them warmly."

"Little Birds are flying the lands hearing stories of lost star travelers." Said the rather intimidating Lord Varys. "They see such interesting things."

Mehmet was not surprised to find his crew was caught up in the local politics. It was an inevitable consequence of their crash landing they had disrupted the natural order of these people, and they were reacting accordingly. Still, with the brutality that was the norm for this civilization, it troubled him to imagine what could be happening to his crew at this very moment. The only information he had received about the status of anyone was a man by the name of Petyr Baelish mentioned there being reports from somewhere north that an organization known as the Night's Watch had encountered a woman with unique technology and sent word.

Regardless, there was little he could do now. He was wounded and far away from any reliable communications equipment and tools that would help in contacting the crew. He was fortunate to even have a MoCom which was thankfully on his person when the fisherman named Aegor rescued him from the Karlsefni wreckage.

As he walked with his thoughts he noticed Sansa Stark walking out of a dense patch of flowers near a tall tree a rather worried expression on her face as she looked around nervously. Mehmet decided to approach her and waved politely which caused the girl to jump slightly before she politely curtsied.

"Oh, Ser Larsson." She spoke. "Forgive me I did not recognize you."

"It's no trouble, Sansa," he said. "I was just taking a walk and saw you. Do you come to this…Godswood often?"

"Ah…yes,' Sansa said. "I come here to pray. For the health of the realm…and my family."

"I see," Mehmet said. "Is that common to pray among the trees?"

He had a feeling there was more to what Sansa was saying by the distant look on her face, but the girl was surprisingly skilled at hiding her emotions. It broke his heart to see that a child so young must learn such a skill no doubt for her survival. She looked at him confused for a moment before recollection hit her.

"No…not in the south," she said. "Most pray to the Gods of the Seven, as do I sometimes but…my father prayed to the Old Gods of the First Men. Their names are no longer spoken but it is said they live among the trees where they speak to us."

"I see," Mehmet said. "Thank you for telling me."

Sansa nodded. "Of course, Ser."

Sansa was about to say something when she looked frightened and gasped. Mehmet turned to see what alarmed her and saw the brilliant white armor of one of the Kingsguard, the guardians of the King and Queen Cersei flanked by several armored men in golden cloaks. They looked guarded with grim expressions and their weapons held tightly.

"Captain Larsson," The man said. "The Queen demands your presence at once. You will come with us."

"Very well," Mehmet said. "Goodbye, Sansa."

Sansa curtsied again and as Mehmet walked towards the knights he saw a stout man dressed like a clown approaching the young girl and ushering her away whispering something in her ear. Mehmet had little time to dwell on it as the armed men fell into a formation around him there was a noticeable difference in their demeanor compared to the usual calm escort they had given him. Their expressions were unkind, and they kept a tight grip on their weapons and moved at an uncomfortable pace. Mehmet feared they would start shoving him if he walked any slower, so he fought against the pain as he rushed forward.

The walk was quiet as they strode into the castle and through the halls, servants stepped out of the way quickly and his escorts exchanged few words. They led him toward a large set of doors where two more knights in white were standing when they opened the door the goldcloaks stopped and allowed their leader to walk in with Mehmet. Before them was a small room where the Queen and several others were sitting around a large table. Mehmet realized this must be the Small Council, an advisory body of sorts to the boy king. They looked up at him with neutral expressions save for the Queen who looked irritated. Mehmet was surprised by the reception she had been a dutiful enough host up till now.

"Your grace, my lords," said the knight. "I bring Captain Larsson as commanded."

"Very good, Ser Meryn," Queen Cersei said. "You may join the others outside."

"As you will."

"Your grace I sense I have done something wrong," Mehmet said. "May I ask what the trouble is?"

"Lord Varys?" Cersei said. "Would you care to explain the situation to Ser Larsson?"

"Of course, your grace," Lord Varys said. "You are our honored guest Ser Larsson, and you have personally done no wrong, but we have received concerning reports about the actions of your crew."

"My crew? Have you received word on their status? Please I must know."

"My little birds have heard quite a few things," Varys said. "There are reports of a horseless wheelhouse and wagon roaming the countryside bearing your blue sphere sigil. Some say that a band of mercenaries are traveling the land wielding steel crossbows and wielding a flying machine. Led by a man by the name of Eddie Martinez?"

"Chief Martinez?" Mehmet repeated. "He's the leader of our security contractors; his responsibility is securing the safety of the crew. If you have spotted him then he's no doubt rescuing survivors."

"Then why," Cersei cut in. "Was he seen traveling with the traitor Catelyn Stark?"
"I'm sorry?"
Lord Varys nodded. "Mother of Robb Stark, the so-called 'King in the North' who is bringing war and turmoil to our realm? Ser Martinez was spotted traveling south toward the Stormlands escorting Lady Stark and a small retinue."

"I've worked with Chief Martinez for years," Mehmet said. "I assure you if he is getting involved in local politics it is only to a limited degree. We would not endanger the mission by doing anything as reckless as participating in your war. We have no stance in it."

Grand Maester Pycelle loudly coughed. "Regardless of your beliefs, your presence in our lands means you must obey the laws of the land. And the law is that of King Joffrey, traveling with traitors is unacceptable."

"Strange that a ship on a mission of peace would be traveling with armed soldiers," Lord Petyr Baelish said. "Do 'scientists' normally have dangerous warriors escorting them?"

"When the situation requires it," Mehmet said. "Space is dangerous, there's pirates, aliens, foreign powers. Any number of emergencies can happen our security contractors are there to ensure the crew's safety. Chief Martinez would take every measure to avoid violence unless circumstance forced his hand."

"Forced his hand?" Cersei said. "Was his hand forced when he slaughtered men in my father's service?"

"Was there a battle?"

"From what we can gather," Lord Varys said. "A band of sellswords known as the Blooded Sons reported rescuing some survivors bearing the sigil of the Thorfinn Karlsefni. However, as they were being prepared for transport they were ruthlessly attacked many died and the few survivors were mad with terror. They spoke of men dying without ever seeing the enemy."

Mehmet looked around taking a breath. If Chief Martinez did engage in battle there was good reason for it, he trusted him with his life but in this situation vouching for him seemed dangerous. He felt useless as he sighed deeply.

"I…I apologize for the actions of my men. I will not defend violent attacks."

"It is good you realize this is unacceptable," Cersei said. "We will have to respond at once you understand. This 'Chief Martinez' of yours is an outlaw and a killer, traveling with dangerous enemies of the realm spreading chaos and disorder. We cannot assure the safety of the others with these reckless acts."

There was a sharp intake of air and Mehmet noticed Tyrion cringing in his seat as Mehmet suddenly grew more guarded.

"What others?"

"Watch your tone," Cersei said. "You are our guest at my mercy."

"I apologize, your grace," Mehmet said. "But if you have more of my crew present I demand to see them."

"They are not here at present," Cersei said. "They are in Harrenhal a castle far from here being safely hosted by my father and his men."

"Are they being held hostage?"

"If that is how you see it, Captain, you are free to do so," Cersei said. "They are guests, and their safekeeping is being secured by your good behavior. So again, watch your tone."

"i…I believe I understand. But I am out of contact with Chief Martinez. I cannot give him orders until we are in contact."

Cersei nodded. "You are such a reasonable man, Captain. Grand Maester?"
The elderly man stood slowly producing a paper and pen which he placed on the table along with ink which he gently pushed over.

"Please write a letter addressed to all Karlsefni crew," Cersei said. "They are to enter the safe escort of men loyal to the throne of the Seven Kingdoms and by no means are authorized to carry or utilize arms against them. Pycelle will assist you in writing the appropriate names. Your cooperation would be most appreciated, Captain."

Mehmet stared at the paper and ink. "You have my crew?"

He glanced toward Tyrion who held a sympathetic look and nodded quietly.

"We do," he said quietly. "Please just sign the letter, Captain. It would appease my sister and keep my nephew from doing anything rash."

Mehmet sighed fighting against every angry urge to tell the Queen-Regent of an alien world to go fuck herself. He trusted Chief Martinez to do the right thing, whatever he was doing with the Starks it would not be a reckless action. Still, if even one member of the Karlsefni was being held hostage he needed to do what he could to help. He would have to word this carefully and pray that anyone who reads it would be able to pick up the message.

"Okay, hand over the pen. I'll send your damn letters."