Kris found herself standing there, in front of the Emperor, wondering what came next.
BOW, came from Ron on Nelly Net.
Kris bowed low, but not so low that she couldn’t see the Emperor stand, make one hesitant step toward her, then turn and in a whirl of his sparkling, many colored garments, disappear behind a screen. Two nude and tattooed body servants met him halfway and hurried him along.
Kris rose from her bow once the Emperor was gone. Beside her, the two senior advisors stayed down until a half-dozen servants trotted from out of sight to offer them assistance. Help was certainly needed; they rose with much grunting and sighing from their place before the dais. The shaded one turned to the brighter one, and growled something low.
WHATEVER HE JUST SAID, I CAN’T TRANSLATE IT, KRIS.
That done, he whirled about, garments flying and stomped from their company. He stomped out looking as angry as any old guy who had his last bottle of whiskey stolen by some punk kid.
The one Kris suspected was Ron’s chooser came to rest one arm on Kris and the other on Ron, who had gotten up on his own, and said, “I figured Ray’s pond scum would be as dangerous as he was. I am told you are a grand admiral in Ray’s fleet. Welcome to my family pond. You are now Chosen Imperial First Admiral of the Grand Order of Steel. You are charged with commanding the Imperial Battle Fleet.”