Boarding Party • 17. "The Show Must Go Wrong" Part II (Patreon)

The Stewart Drama Company is pleased to announce that they are taking up residency in the newly-renovated Her Supreme Majesty’s Theatre at Hardlan Isle. Led by Reginald Stewart and his class-act of classical actors, the Stewart Drama Company can boast many critically-acclaimed productions like The Arrow of Time and The Island on the Verge of Forever. They also boast the not-as-beloved Thresholds, which Stewart continues to insist that it will be “properly beloved by generations, just not this one…”

A more accurate name for Hardlan Isle now would be “Hardly an Isle,” thanks to the egregious colonization it faced from the Horatio Empire. The entire surface area of the island now rested underneath countless tons of stone, sprawling beyond its original, meager size into a Horatio haven that even rivaled Port Bashir. 

The Empire’s flag hung from every building, both out of a sense of honor for the country and the hefty prison times that would ensue if the owners didn’t comply. Every interior boasted a portrait of Queen Horatio IV herself, putting her swollen eyes, tiny hands, and bloated complexion on display (the unfortunate yet necessary byproducts of keeping the Royal bloodline “pure”). 

A permanent fixture of the town square were the state-of-the-art gallows, where “savage” natives and petty criminals apprehended by the Royal Navy were shipped from surrounding Horatio-aligned islands to be hanged hourly. They were a must-see visit for any sort of tourists,  the site where many pirates including “Rabid Dog” Daniels and Beth Jeremy met their grisly fates.

Donning their civilian disguises, D’anna and Majel ferried into Her Majesty’s Port and unloaded. Cain would arrive that night, using the darkness to stalk the streets of Hardland Isle undetected.

“Did that article ever mention the theatre’s address?” D’anna asked Majel, fanning herself in an effort to appear more fanciful (despite the fact that it was a rather cool sixty-five degrees in Hardly Isle that day).

“Let me check…” Majel replied. 

D'anna's eyes widened and she looked around in panic. “You brought the article with you? We can’t be caught with a copy of Fontaine’s, Majel! They'll definitely know that we're pirates that way!"  

“They’ll know that we’re pirates if you don’t keep your voice down and stick to your accent!” the cat hissed. “And I'm not an idiot, D’anna,” she sneered before producing a scrap of paper from her chest (a trick that Winn had taught her). “I copied down the gist of our mission onto this, that way nobody will even suspect our familiarity with Fontiane’s. We'll just look like what we are — two struggling actors who had just arrived at Hardlan Isle to sign up with the Stewart Drama Company."

She handed D’anna the piece of paper. The elf was a little reluctant to touch it with non-gloved hands considering where it just was, but did so anyway.

— THE STEWART DRAMA COMPANY

— HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE, HARDLAN ISLE

— REGINALD STEWART HEAD

 — BIG TOE HURTS, ENLARGED

“What's this last point?” D’anna asked. 

“Ignore that.” Majel said. 

“Oh. Uh, okay…”

There was a silence between them as they walked down the street. 

“I-I'm going to have Leonard check it out next time we’re at Saint Khan's,” Majel explained, her face flushed. 

“Perhaps we could ask someone for directions?” the elf said as she looked around, desperately wanting to change the conversation topic. 

“Lead the way…” Majel said, trailing behind D’anna as she folded the note back up to put back into her secret compartment. She hurried up after the elf, trying to not put any pressure on the enlarged toe. 

Majel squinted as she finally gazed her eyes upon Her Majesty’s Theatre. Its width spanned the space of several buildings with an unnecessary number of windows and arches wrapped around its exterior. Anything that wasn’t a stark white was painted a garish gold — the Queen’s favorite color. Several flags hung near the entrance, all of them flying the horseshoe-esqe symbol that represented the Horatio Empire. 

The cat and the elf walked inside, but were stopped by a foppish man standing outside the door. “Wot's your business, eh?” 

“Good afternoon, sir,” Majel said with a curtsy. She hoped D'anna would follow suit, but the poor elf was too paralyzed with fear to do anything but gape. 

“My friend and I are two actors wishing to join the Stewart Drama Company,” the cat continued. “Of course, with the talent that the Stewart Drama Company boasts, we’ll best be suited for production assistance and silent roles for the time being!”

The man looked them up and down. They were a little too overdressed, looking like they were about to go to a gala rather than a job interview. He wiggled his pencil mustache and looked at the stage. “I’ll go check to see if we need anyone. You two wait here, uh…”

“Amelia Marchmain,” Majel replied. Hey, if it isn’t broken, don't fix it. 

“Uh…” D’anna groaned, trying to think of a name that was on the same level of Majel’s — hell, just any name that wasn’t hers. 

“Lenore DeLancie!” she finally spat out after a few moments of hesitation. 

“Miss Marchmain, Miss DeLancie,” the man nodded as he walked away. 

Majel’s ears flattened and she turned to D’anna. “I thought you said you had a name on the ferry!”

“I didn't want to worry you, I-I couldn't come up with any!”

“But you're able to name all of your bloody cows?!”

D'anna gasped. “I don't name them, they tell me what their name is!”

The cat grumbled a comment regarding D'anna's sanity and began to fan herself.