A brief shift in the wind rumbles through the Pirate’s Wrath, rattling the glass within the captain’s cabin and sending most of the rum in the glass upon her sloshing out over the map it was helping to hold down. A ragged gaze is set upon the growing darkness over the mountain range depicted in front of her, racing through another few dozen versions of the battle laying so shortly ahead.
Just two Garlean gunships had nearly taken her prize out of the sky barely a year prior. Almost as much of the ship was replaced as remains from the original build from her championship. Now they could be facing a half dozen let alone whatever armaments the transport might have had. There was an ace to take care of several of them, but it was still going to be most lopsided battle she had been part of since the Holy See had claimed the Cutlass Fury. The Wrath was a force to be reckoned with at any time, but the confidence she’d put forward in front of the others hadn’t accompanied her out of that room.
The quiet sea wolf plucks up the little figure representing the manacutter that will even start giving them a fighting chance, her minds eye immediately getting a flash of the young miqo’te who’ll be along for that ride. If she had been standing in front of her fathers, she’d tell them she would do everything in her power to keep attention off that little ship until it can get away. She might even be able to get them to believe that she means it.
But alone with her plans? Weighing the choices behind this entire venture? Everything in her power?
That would be not sending her out there in the first place, and she knew it. She may not have conceived that part of the mission, or even asked for something akin to it, but when it was presented there hadn’t been any hesitation. She was part of the ‘crew’ for the mission, everyone was taking risks. And for something more than her own vanity at this point at least. Perhaps getting to understand the scope will make all the wrong choices seem right in the end.
As the figure was placed back down on the rum-soaked map, surrounded by the fleet of tiny Garleans, the same question drug the way up the hairs along the back of her neck all over again.
If he was grown, and it had been him offering the plan, could she have allowed herself to let Alvin take that flight instead?
( This technically happens prior to the previous prompt’s story )
“I know I don’t have to tell any of you what’s at stake in something like this. Garleans tinkering with Allagan tech is usually when they’re at their most dangerous. We don’t believe they’ve brought whatever it is they’ve found down there online yet, but it’s still going to be walking into their den.”
The sea wolf tightens her lips slightly, addressing the admittedly odd collection of souls making up the ground team of the day’s mission. Friends, lovers, and of course family all were looking back her way, ready to load onto the transport ship. A select couple were going to be joining her on the Wrath at least at first, but the hope was to keep the air assault far from those gathered. A smile sets upon her lips, but doesn’t make it all the way up to her eye.
“I know that you lot can handle this. They’ll probably numbers overall, but if you can divide the forces up some I know each of you is more than the measure of an imperial even on your worst days. We aren’t taking any more chances than we absolutely have to today. Route the troops stationed there, secure the upper level of the facility, and do NOT take that elevator down.”
A hand set along the back of one of her long twinbalde’s hilt as she spoke, eye traveling to each member of the team in turn. “We know from the scouting mission that linkpearls do work on that floor, but there is some interference. We may only have spotty contact from the kind of distance we’re going to have, but among it each other it should carry. If you get split up, check in with each other, and if you can, get a hold of me on the Wrath when things are clear, or if you need help.”
“Do NOT be afraid to pull out and retreat if things are getting ugly. While things have shifted priorities some, there’s still no one here I think is worth trading for the mission. We’re all coming home, consider that an order. Your transport ship will be near enough to call in for extraction, and you should have the manacutter available as well. Getting down by foot is an option but.. Twelve above try the ship or teleporting first.”
There’s a quick motion for Kasen and Melody to fall in with her, and she does her best to renew her smile to the group as a whole. “Watch out for each other, we can figure out what comes next on the other side.”
((There was some delay on the Eye Plot, but we’re rolling again at full speed! Next entry after a few RP events have happened!))
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Fulcinia had more or less grown used to her safehouse-turned-prison living arrangements. It was a far call from freedom of course, she hadn’t left the building since being returned there from the little outing to the Allagan lab and all the windows were false to keep anyone from peering inside, but the comfortable arrangements betrayed that this wasn’t really meant to hold someone as a gaol. The faces of her guards didn’t change often, and most openly wore sneers whenever they did have to bother stepping in to deliver food or drink, but even at that they had stopped openly spitting into her meals in front of her. The Garlean assumed they were doing it ahead and mixing it in instead. The politeness of savages is ever boundless, after all.
As she was settling into another long night of pouring over what little information she’d been given about the missions ahead there was a small commotion outside the door, followed almost immediately by it swinging open and a now familiar, massive frame stepping inside and slamming the door closed behind. The sea wolf’s hair and clothing were still a wind-swept mess, dressed in her full pirate captain regalia while stalking over and tossing a tied bundle of papers onto the table next to the former imperial.
“What do you know about Citrio sas Excingus?”
The roegadyn’s voice was bunt and direct, skipping past the usual jabs that Fulcinia had admittedly almost come to enjoy returning on occasion. Pulling the papers closer, she glanced through the page on top while considering her answer. “What, I’m supposed to know every officer’s name because I was in the military? I’m not sure you really grasp the scope of Garlemald’s might.” The immediate glower that earned had her raising up a hand, palm splayed for peace. “Alright, alright. Try not to glare a hole through me. I believe he was part of the transfers into the efforts to rebuild the XIVth legion after the disaster that was the Ultima Weapon project. They were intended to be the vanguard for a new Eorzean campaign, before Ala Mhigo and Doma started bringing the fight to our borders instead.”
While the roegadyn’s lips tighten into a deeper scowl, Fulcinia starts to undo the bindings on the information in front of her, flipping through it casually. Summaries, clearly in her captor’s handwriting of a recent mission. It certainly didn’t look complete, but that was likely intentional. Not getting to know everything had been a clear, if unspoken part of their arrangements. “I would have imagined it was cut back up for parts for existing Legions with the counter push. No telling where he is actually assigned now, even before the recent.. trouble.”
“He and a large compliment are, in fact, being assigned to where we need to go. They get set up in place and we’d need a small army to pry them out of the facility. Something nearing 200 additional people at the location, between soldiers and technicians. That’s not a garrison, that’s a project. I need -everything- you know about him, about the facility, and about any remaining assets they could be using.” The knuckles of the sea wolf’s gauntleted hand press down onto the top of the pile of papers, staring pointedly down at her guest. “And I hope you need no reminders that if we miss this opportunity, there won’t be any others, which would rapidly end your usefulness to me and my associates without you having a chance to live up to your end of the deal.”
It had been some time since she’d got a proper threat out of the captain, even the veiled ones had started to feel obligatory as opposed to self indulgence. This one was different, a mask over the concern about things going up in flames right under her nose. Despite a natural given urge to get into banter, the Garlean gave into her better instincts and own desires to get into that facility without it crawling with her countrymen. The whole thing was certainly pushing towards the end of her stay in her lavish gaol, for better or worse.
“I will tell you all I know, for whatever that may be worth.”
First in a series of story posts related to an on-going effort to restore Brem’s eye. Includes violence and blood. Future stories will have a LOT more of both.
The crunch of sand under the heavy, pacing bootfalls had almost withered its way into being as much white noise as the occasional lapping of the mild tide in the long stretch of waiting. Several well-worn lines and circular trails around the heavy crate she had been watching over marked Brem’s impatient path. Even with the more frequent visits and having been in the area for the better part of a week now, the East’s winds and seas didn’t bring that same feeling of home as the sandy beaches of La Noscea. As she was settling into the internal debate if they were the comforts of a stranger, or simply she was the stranger in someone else’s comforts, a familiar pudgy figure called out from the tunnel into the small cove.
“Miss Abylnpfefwyb! I’m so glad to see you learned punctuality since our first meeting! And I do see you came alone as well. Were it that everyone in our business that could take instruction so well.” The bespeckled Hingashi hyur made his way forward from that cave passage, waving at those behind him to start filtering in. An entourage including a handful of muscle, some set with swords on their hips and others with long rifles. The last threw were a pair escorting a thinly, if particularly tall woman in cuffs. Though the woman’s long hair hung over most of her face, there were still clearly a few bruises over the visible portions of her cheeks. “I do believe you’ll find that the merchandise is exactly what you asked for. I do hope my.. adjustment in payment wasn’t too demanding.”
“I wouldn’t want you walking away from this thinking I didn’t respect you, Kubo. Like the obvious respect your rather extensive negotiation assistants clearly represents for me.” One of the sea wolf’s gloved hands grips the front of the crate she had been pacing around for so long, letting it crash forward firmly enough to erase much of her trail from the sand. A faint blue glow illuminates the machinery with, as well as the pair of tanks at the back end. “One Garlean magitek engine and enough ceruleum to get any prospective magitek business’s R&D going. Though as far as I can tell what you’ve brought is a tall woman with a black eye..”
The Hingan man’s smile stretched so broad it threatened to chase his hairline even further into retreat as he snapped his fingers to have the captive brought forward. Once the muscled pair had her close enough to present they forced her to hunch forward so Kubo could raise his hand to push her hair up and out of the way, revealing the Garlean third eye in her forehead. “I believe you’ll find she has two entirely untouched eyes, even if the one looks more like a clam spit it into her head. “May I present Fulcinia lux Protus. Or is the ‘lux’ reserved for those who aren’t traitors to the empire? Ijin naming habits are so hard to keep track of..” The woman in question turns the eye that isn’t swollen shut or in the middle of her forehead out Brem’s way, but it’s clear any desire to resist had already been beaten out of her.
“Looks like short of tossing an Allagan puzzle for her to solve at your feet, I’ll have to take your word on it. I -am- rather disappointed that you’re asking full price for damaged goods.” Several heavy strides draw her pointedly away from the crated engine, with one hand waved back towards the man’s payment. “Though seeing as I can’t imagine paying with most of an engine is going to work, perhaps you’ll consider a friendly discount the next time we do business?”
“Oh, of course, of course. We’ll take a bit right off the top next time, as a show of good faith. The man’s smile lingers on as he snaps his fingers again and the Garlean woman was drug over Brem’s way, with one of the burly xaela men escorting her offering the chains of the woman’s cuffs forward. “Though there is one thing I should mention, I suppose..”
“While I do so greatly appreciate the business you’ve brought me today, Miss Abylnpfefwyb, you do have to know the value of what we have here in this bay. A woman who’s made a fortune blowing Garleans out of the sky, here with a traitor and and a salvaged ship engine. Do you have any idea how much that trio of treasure would be worth, even to a fractured empire?” Kubo raised his hands and gave a loud clap, leading to several fully armored Garlean soldiers to pour through the cave tunnel into the cove, as well as the magitek whirr of several armors, predators, and vanguards activating and stepping up from the rocky ridge, and several of the true constructs walking up out of the hiding places within the waters behind the sea wolf. “And I’m afraid if I have to choose between long term business partners with an army, or a bitchy sky pirate with a superiority complex, it’s not so hard a choice. Now then, you can come peacefully or we these fine imperials can take home the obsidian we can blast you into. Your choice.”
Her fingers curl around the chain she was holding, drawing that single teal eye up from the woman she was here for to the shit-eating grin being beamed down at her by the triumphant hyur. “It’s a good trap, well sprung Kubo. Even I know better to take on everything you’ve brought with you by myself. So there’s not really any choice is there? Though I must say..” The warm leather her hand was bound in subtly tightens it’s grips over Fulcinia’s bindings once more. “There’s an important talent in our kind of negotiations. The ability to recognize the look in someone’s eye when they’ve decided to piss on a good thing. And you, Kubo, don’t hide that look well.”
Though his expression soured briefly as she spoke, eventually a laugh burst from the Hingan’s chest, waving both arms out at the overwhelming force he’d brought along with him. “And what good has that ‘talent’ brought you, pirate cunt? You’ll leave here chained like her and I’ll be spending my imperial coin before the day is done!”
“The thing is, those who don’t hide it well usually don’t know to look for it themselves.” A swift yank sent the bound Garlean flying past her to land face-first into the sand as aether went ripping around the pale pirate’s other hand, eventually forming a spear that went flying towards the engine and it’s crate, landing in a pipe that fed the ceruleum tanks into the engine. Immediately after she flung herself on top of Fulcinia and immediately forcing the aether around her into plate after plate to drop onto the pair.
A few stray rounds from Kubo’s riflemen made it past the initial defense, one even tore into the roegadyn’s shoulder, but as she’s finishing the cocoon of protection the magical spear she’d flung erupts into flame, rushing into the pair of tanks. There’s a brief hiss of build up before the engine and its fuel supply violently burst, catching the swordsmen rushing forward in the explosion while the concussive wave slams into the rest of the crowd within the enclosed cove, knocking a few unconscious outright while others are simply sent flying backwards onto the ground.
With the signal sent and received, the roar of an airship’s engine announces the presence of the pirate’s vessel only moments before it rose into view from its hiding place among several several sea vessels. The First Mate was already shouting the command to fire as the heavy Garlean machinery on the ridge tries to whip around and chase the mobile arial target, catching each in a steady stream of cannon fire. Shouts of retreat from both Kobu’s men and their Garlean cohorts sounded almost immediately, though it wasn’t slowing the fire from the ship above.
Though the heavy aether around them distorted the sound, the shift in the battle, it was enough to get Brem to drop the spell and yank the chained Garlean up with her. “You want out of this alive? You come with me.” The intensity of her rushed words, half of a metal face, and the battle raging yalms away was enough to get a bobbly-headed nod from the shell-shocked woman as the pair rushed past the burning wreckage of the engine crate. With one arm wrapped around Fulcinia’s core as best she could manage, the roegadyn flung the other upward with another ripple of aether, launching the familiar shape of a frog tongue up to an anchor built onto the side of her ship. As soon as the magical shape tried to pull back, the anchor itself whirred to life and instead yanked back with equal force so that the sea wolf and her ‘cargo’ were hauled rapidly skyward, tumbling out onto the main deck of her airship.
“Welcome aboard, Cap’n! Orders?” The bright faced First Mate flashed that energetic and occasionally frustrating grin down to the bleeding pile of roegadyn.
There’s a snarl as she hauled herself up to her feet, motioning down to Fulcinia. “Get her below deck, keep someone with her and get that eye looked at.” Stalking over to the weapon rack on a nearby wall she yanked a long rifle free, stepping to the edge of the deck to raise it. Aiming one-eyed always had it’s challenges, but hours of practice and a burning pit of fury in her stomach steadied her hand. One loud crack of gunpowder and the paunchiest of the figure’s fleeing the beach collapsed just short of the tunnel out, blood flowing readily from the freshly formed hole in his throat.
“Get us the fuck out of her. Once she’s cleaned up, me and my ‘guest’ are takin’ the ‘cutter. You need to get the ship back to home port before the Garleans start swarmin’.”
The elezen in full Ishgardian knight regalia slams back first into the sandstone wall of the arena, his head snapping back after for it’s own secondary impact. A weak sound leaves the bloodied man as he slumps down into the sands defeated and unconscious, with cheers erupting from the crowds above. His opponent drives her greatsword into the sand to start pulling her helm loose, shaking out her hair with a massive grin. Tucking the helm under one arm she puts herself through the effort to heft the massive blade back up above her head one handed for her audience.
“BREM - VEE - DA! BREM - VEE - DA! BREM - VEE - DA!”
The rush of hearing her own name carried on countless voices never failed to stoke the sea wolf’s ego, and before even bothering to find a healer or claim her prize she had to look up to the stands. As she did, the chanting seemed to grow more harmonious, and her eye traveling over the faces something seemed off. Her adoring fans all seemed to have the same face, and the chorus of voices starts to ring more clearly as the same voice multiplied out through all the figures around her.
A hand on the roegadyn’s shoulder has her whip around, helm dropped so she could pull her sword to the ready as another copy of that woman in a guard’s uniform stares at her smiling, eventually joining in with the chant.
“If you don’t start getting ready you’re never going to convince them of anything.”
A dismissive hand waves up from the researcher’s work, the other still making adjustments to his instrumentation. “Extrapolation Node, take new variables and run probability calculations again.” His gaze shot out to the woman holding his dress regalia, eyes narrowed in expectation. “If I don’t confirm my findings then there’s no point in going to the approvals hearing.” The response gets a roll of the woman’s eyes, but she leans herself against the wall near the entry to his lab.
“Calculations complete. 97 per cent chance of successful fragmentation. 67 per cent chance of successful long term containment of fragments. Sentience rating of fragments negligible.”
A lengthy sigh falls from the man’s lips as the Node reads out it’s data. “Those numbers aren’t where I want them, but it’s at least it’s a presentable start.” As he finishes the words his finest outfit is dumped onto the workstation next to him, with a set of narrowed eyes turned down his way.
“No more tinkering, no more tweaking, no more experiments. This is where you put on your big boy pants and go charm the appropriations board. It’s as much about looks and behavior and confidence as it is your data. You’re going to do great! And with funding, you’ll get your numbers where you want them. Without it and all this isn’t work anything.”
The researcher rubs the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine you’re right.” As he picks up the fine looking outfit he gives a small smile to the woman pushing him, and then looks on to the node floating placidly nearby. “Extrapolation Node, copy all data on the Ceaseless Soldier project into tomestones.”
There’s a beep as the command begins to process. “All glory to Allag!”
