NARRATOR: Aboard the Ob'enn ship Cloak of Untrammeled Dignity, whose five hundred thousand cubic kilometers provide a standing guarantee of superior firepower and dignity untrammeled:
SYCOPHANT: Revered Sir, our pawn on Ystre has been assassinated.
KING: By whom? Is this an effort to thwart us directly, or just a local inconvenience?
SYCOPHANT: It's... curious, Your Grace. We lifted some security system footage, and it appears as if this Primate Principio was involved personally.
KING: Personally? You mean that meddling human was there?
SYCOPHANT: Indeed, Majesty. And he was killed, along with one of the other sophonts who addressed us, an amorph.
KING: This is good news. I'll sleep well knowing that opponent has been dispatched, even if it sets us back a few years on Ystre.
SYCOPHANT: With Rhadamanthine reverence, Lord, I would not counsel sleep just yet.
KING: Okay, you've crossed a line when I need a thesaurus to follow your flattery. Out with it.
SYCOPHANT: Op-Int believes that the Primate Principio was actually a mercenary in the employ of the Rogue.
KING: To what purpose?
SYCOPHANT: That's the question they've all been asking themselves. They want more information.
KING: No... They want permission to go get more information... Which means they suspect that the answer lies outside their budgeted sphere of operations.
SYCOPHANT: Prudent Master, your
KING: *interrupting* Oh, cut that out. I'll fund Op-Int's little research project.
KING: 'Rhadamanthine.'
Four hells and wet fur.
We've trouble enough with our own gods without going and borrowing words from somebody else's.