Session 47 - Hostile Takeover

Previously, across the Horizon... 
The decision has been made, and the course has been set for the homeland of Isaline Osler. Cardia is a harsh country of strict social strata, unforgiving weather, and dangerous geography, and it tempers its people into iron-forged warriors, no matter the battlefield. The Starfall carries with it a cargo of couerls, well fed, well cared for, and respected from a healthy distance, for delivering to a small animal refuge that should be well equipped to handle them. The village of Uhja is on the itinerary, hidden away in the northwest mountains, holding the news of what happened to Ryna Jidoor's sylph friend Natron Rensa and his affliction. The star-seeking astrologian, Perilune, is somewhere within the country's borders, chasing a fallen star through the mountains. At the center of all of this is the city-state of Cardia itself, though its Five Rings are more legend than reality for most of the ship's crew. 
Though first there is the matter of a set of documents found in an AZYS lab, of signatures on blood-streaked forms, of a last name written in an unexpected place. 
Answers lie over the horizon, but the path is treacherous.
We join our heroes as their prized airship streaks through the skies in the late afternoon of the 23rd day of Kuganepo...
**
Celeste has one eye on her map and her entire heart out on the wind, helping direct the ship along its course.
Chmurka is below decks, not trusting the long shadows of the Cardian mountains to keep her as hidden as she prefers.
The Hive bustle about, Lily occasionally pausing to look out a window before then retaking her place in the constant chorus.
Isa makes a few minor notes on the chart; wind currents not normally mapped that could be treacherous in the steep valleys. "The crew's been notified that this isn't shore leave, I hope? Highwind isn't a resort and they're going to have to stay on board while we deal with our business."
Linnet has discovered a new and unpleasant complication to being cut off from her winds: airsickness. She's sitting on the deck trying to enjoy the beautiful scenery, but she has a death grip on the railing with one arm and both legs and the other arm around Triscuit, who squeaks in feeble protest.
Orrey is up on the highest point of the ship with the Lookout, taking in the scenery.
High above the ship, Apoc leans on the railing in the lookout position, idly muttering "land ho, land ho, land ho" every time he sees yet another mountain come into view. He has the talking tube disabled so he doesn't get reamed by the captain or the pilot again.
Yves is having a very mild sulk, up on the deck, because at this point he's mostly resigned to at least one kitten becoming permanently Not Actually Domesticated, But Can Fake It At Meal Times.
Orrey is completely ignoring Apoc.
Apoc has been ignoring Orrey. Sulking is a bad look for anyone, and Apoc wears it worse than most.
Jasper, at least, has been upbeat, whistling cheerfully and offering plenty of words of encouragement to the crew. He's grown well into the role of Ship Dad, though it helps that he primarily is working with people he knows.
The mountains here are young, steep, and raw - sheer cliffs and deep ravines. In the low morning sun the sky is bright but the valleys are still in deep shadow, and will be until almost noon. So, Highwind Research Station is easily visible on approach, a cluster of light clinging halfway up the mountain face. Navigation lights blink red and green to a pair of large airship piers. Floodlights trace the path of catwalks and ladders criss-crossing the structure with exterior access. Unlit but dimly visible, cannon emplacements stand apart from the station, watching the open southern end of the valley. An approach from above would require an airship capable of operating at extreme altitude, and a crew able to brave the thin, cold air.
As the Starfall approaches, following Isaline Osler’s instructions and Celeste Meracydia’s routes, they find that they are not the only ones.
“State your business,” comes the loudspeaker-boosted command from the port side, as a blue and gold airship emerges from behind the closest peak, the shining white of the cannons drawing to bear.
Bast looks up from the charts. "Isa, do you know who this might be?"
Linnet extricates herself from the railing and attempts to glue herself to the mast in a halfway dignified position instead. Triscuit attaches himself to her left calf.
Isa looks out the window and blinks. "That's new," she mutters. "I'll handle it," she says to Bast.
"All yours." Bast takes a half-step to the side to make room.
Marina keeps the ship level, as if it has every reason to be here.
Orrey glances at Apoc. “That’s a bad sign, right?”
Apoc hisses quietly. "Yes, yes, I would say so." The lookout scans in a circle, then clicks on the tube. "Pilot, we have another off to starboard moving to flank," he says quietly. "None behind as far as I can see, but visibility here is treacherous."
Isa keys the loudspeaker, replying across the gap. "Starfall, out of the Triad. In for a refitting consultation. Existing contract under the Altermatt Consortium."
“As treacherous as the Cardian politicians, perhaps?” Orrey helpfully adds.
"Politics," Apoc sneers.
The ship to port is quiet for a moment.
During the silence, Isa turns off the mic and explains to Bast. "Albarea's ships. Not sure why they're here."
"Who's Albarea?" Linnet asks.
Then: "Starfall, you are clear for approach. The Aeolus will guide you to the platform. Remain within your ship until the master of the station has come to receive you." The ship to starboard, which looks identical to the speaking ship, accelerates past the Starfall, leading the way toward the docking platform.
"Another House," Isa explains to Linnet, then triggers the mic again. "Acknowledged," she replies, and then directs Marina to follow the starboard ship, apparently Aeolus.
“Politics is the source of so much of the world’s woes. Just look at the current state of Saron.” Orrey shakes his head and then refocuses on the ship next door.
The Starfall follows peacefully, during which time Jasper directs traffic among the crew, grabbing Bast once the Hive are well below decks. "Captain, any orders for us while we remain here?" he asks.
Up on the lookout tower, Apoc nods companionably. "Nothing is as complicated as the people in charge like to make it. Look out for your fellows, stand together, fight for a better future, and ensure that no one person is elevated to too high a station."
“Shouldn’t those with talent rise to the top, though?” Orrey asks.
"Mending and building anything that's been on hold. No shore leave or shopping, everyone but the officers stays on the ship until we know what kind of a reception we're looking at here," Bast says.
"To what end? Make themselves richer and greater? If you have the talent, use it to elevate those who have less," Apoc replies.
The Starfall comes to rest, engines powering down to a very light hum, the level that Marina and Yves have found works best for get-up-and-go-in-a-hurry.
Orrey shrugs. “Those with talent do make the best stuff for everyone else. Hell, I better get back down there so Bast can order me about.”
"He clearly does have the most talent of the lot of you," Apoc says neutrally. "Travel well, Master Alyon."
“Talent comes in many forms!” Orrey says as he heads down, wondering if Apoc will insist on the last word.
Isa is the first to the small antechamber that leads to the side gangway. Those who have been traveling with her for a time notice that she's returned to wearing her sword; the spear she started carrying after Alterna is nowhere to be seen.
For once, Apoc forgoes the sound of his own voice and offers nothing in response.
“Remind me again: will there be any time for shopping?” Orrey asks Isa as he arrives a minute or so later.
"I'm sure the couerl preserve will have a gift shop for fundraising purposes when we get /there/," Yves says.
"Nothing to buy here. It's research and development. Manufacturing is licensed out to guilds in the City." Isa's expression is locked down tighter than her quarters.
“And are you wanting us to basically remain silent and be all kinds of well behaved and such?” Orrey asks.
(Linnet is following along, trying to look like a very with-it academic and not a worn-out girl who's tripping over every third step.)
"Captain of the Starfall, present yourself," comes the stern call from a woman outside.
"Remember," Isa prompts Bast before they disembark. "We're with the Altermatt Consortium, and we're here to consult with Viscount Nils Osler."
Bast steps forward, doing his best to look merchantlike. "Bast of the Starfall, on Altermatt business. Station master...?"
Orrey, attempting to mimic the theater crew, asks, “But what’s my motivation for this role?”
Yves looks mildly woeful, clutching his satchel, which does /not/ contain a kitten, thank you very much.
A full contingent of Cardian Dragoons are assembled outside of the Starfall, with the woman in front clearly in charge. She stands a head taller than Isa, wearing a polished breastplate and a sour expression on her face. Her red hair is too short to blow in the wind that whips through the mountains, though the Cardian flag tied to the end of the spear on her back dances with every gust. A short sword is belted to her hip, and her arms are crossed. "Lara Albarea, commander of this outpost," she says, her mannerisms similar to the Cardian dragoon on the Starfall's officer list.
Isa is a statue.
"Your business," Albarea says, Dives in her eyes, all of her attention on the captain.
"We are here to speak for the Altermatt Consortium with Viscount Nils Osler, sir. Has there been some kind of trouble? We were not told to expect - this." He gestures vaguely behind the party at the two escort ships.
Albarea slides her jaw two millimeters to the right. "Viscount Osler is inside the facility. Follow me." A crisp about-face, and the flag of Cardia leads the way across the wide walkway into the side of the mountain.
Bast directs an inquisitive eyebrow to Isa behind Albarea's back as he starts to follow.
Isa exhales, and shakes her head by a minuscule fraction, indicating that this all highly abnormal and they need to be playing it close to the chest. Face set, she follows him in.
Orrey glances at Yves and Linnet. “This could get interesting.”
"I mean, so long as no one starts stabbing," Yves says quietly, eyeing all the weaponry. And the flag. Somehow, flags seem more hostile than neutral when accompanied by that much uniform.
The Highwind Research Lab is large and imposing. Every hallway is wide, with grooves carved into the floor, thick chains in the grooves to allow for easy movement of large and heavy machinery. Every door is at least fifteen feet wide, closing and sealing from both sides.
All of the doors are closed.
“I believe that’s what Cardian dragons specialize in...” Orrey compares Isa’s walk to Lara’s and notices that they have identical stride lengths. “Creepy.”
The path Albarea takes involves two right turns and one left, to a door that is just like the others. Albarea presses a button below the intercom and speaks. "Viscount Osler, the Altermatt Consortium to see you."
"Send them in, please," comes the even reply.
The door separates smoothly, and Albarea waits for everyone to enter before ensuring the door closes behind them.
Isa follows Bast in, but as soon as she's inside she rapidly quarters the room with her eyes.
Orrey nods to Albarea and says “Thank you.”
The room is one of the smaller laboratories, but Isa's practiced eyes take in what's different right away. The bed on the east wall, the dried flowers in the silver vase by the metal-clad sealed window, the rows of empty glasses on the counter in the northwest corner, the laboratory sink with contact lens cleaner and a shaving brush by the handles.
Albarea and her dragoons disappear behind the closing doors.
A man looks over from one of the tables. A human male in his late thirties, with blonde hair a bit too long to still be sweeping up in a low-effort attempt to keep it out of his eyes, reading glasses hanging from a strap around his neck, a thick blue and gray wool coat with perfect tailoring and a pair of fuzzy slippers on his feet. "Well, this is a surprise," he says. "The Consortium rarely brings all of their friends over."
"The Consortium didn't expect there to be this many guests," Isa replies.
Orrey checks the door to see if it has a lock on it.
"You're safe in here," he adds, "in case Lara has given you the traditional Albarean greeting, which from the looks on all of your faces, I can only assume. Oh, and I've left you all to only assume the worst without anything to base it on." He sets down what he was working on, which happens to be a mug of tea. "Nils Osler, though I assume you've heard of me. Who are your friends, Isaline?"
The door locks from the outside, Orrey notes.
Isa gestures to Bast. "Captain Bast, of the Starfall." Then to the rest, "Linnet, Orrey, and Yves. Along with myself, the command staff of the Starfall. Uncle, can you correct my assumptions? Because right now they're dire."
Yves mutters something under his breath that sounds vaguely like "wildlife trafficking," but since under the circumstances that would technically apply to /their/ ship, there were probably other words in there too.
"Are they that the Albarea family has taken over Highwind to try and cement their own names with what remains of our ruined reputation in an attempt to cozy up to King Dramatic Action and secure their own lineage in hopes of putting their own child on the throne some four, five generations from now?" he asks. "Because if you are assuming that, I am quite impressed and am very interested in where you get your news, because this is all news to me.
"I'd offer you all tea," he adds, "but I drank it, and it's shit."
(Linnet, staring absentmindedly around the room and looking for interesting reading material, has decided she likes this uncle. Hopefully we won't have to fight him.)
Nils cleans his glasses for lack of anything else to do with his hands.
“You forgot the part where you’re being held against your will as a hostage to control the rest of your family.” Orrey adds. “That’d be the rumor version of your story anyway.”
"Oh, no, that's Sjrl," he says offhandedly. "I have to work to keep the hostage safe."
"How did this happen? What is Mother doing about it?" Isa asks.
"Are all of the Oslers under this...house arrest, then?" Bast asks.
"Would someone need to be fed to a couerl?" Linnet asks. "Or maybe several someones?"
Orrey’s grip on his satchel tightens as he realizes how similar this situation is to his own previous circumstances.
"Anyone who might lend a friendly ear?" Bast points at the intercom, eyebrows raised.
"They don't exactly deliver the newspaper to my door in the mornings, kupo," Nils says to Bast. To Isa, he is less flippant. "To my knowledge -- no, they'd turn their stomachs terribly, my friend -- your mother is doing her best, though I've only had the one letter and had to read between any number of lines to determine even that much. We are not, as you well know, particularly well liked at the moment. Most of my faith lies in your sister, to be honest, but with you showing up... yes, things could be turning around."
Nils moves quickly about his room, rubbing his hands together. "Yes, with you here things could be turning right well around. When were you last in Cardia, Isaline? When did anyone last see you?"
Isa checks the buckles on her gauntlet, for no other reason than to keep her hands off her sword. "Seven weeks or so since I left the City; they finally found an excuse to expel me that I couldn't fight. I saw Myrta maybe two weeks before that."
"And do you know -- had you -- did anyone tell you -- that is to say, have you been made aware -- generally speaking, are you --"
"Going to need an actual noun in there, Uncle."
His fingers try and fail to grasp at the best selection of words, dangling in the air in front of him.
"Are you, perhaps... familiar with your... shall we say, your... current level of... renown, within Cardia, perchance?" He does not look wholly satisfied with that selection.
"Mine?"
"...did they hear about the thing at the conference?" Yves asks.
"Oh Saroni's tits I hope not," Isa mutters.
"...or any of several other things over the past several weeks..." mutters Linnet.
"I mean, you weren't the one who /started/ it," Yves says, "and the building was mostly fine, and no one who didn't deserve it got particularly hurt, and... they can't have heard about the... cat incidents... yet."
"Oh, who among us hasn't almost knocked down a building in a fit of inspiration?" Nils asks genuinely.
"...see," Yves says, "I /told/ you all it was perfectly normal to--" He stops, and decides discretion is, belatedly, the better part of valor.
Bast, not getting an answer to his previous hint, walks over and stands with one hand covering the microphone for the intercom as the conversation goes on around him.
“Is anyone capable of listening to us in here?” Orrey asks Bast. “Don’t you have to hold the button down to send?”
"Don't know how this place is set up," Bast answers Orrey.
"Oh, my boy, that's already been handled," Nils says. "But the thought is very much appreciated, I can see why you're the captain. Always thinking ahead. Isaline! Are you telling me you did not have a terrible falling out with your sister when you last saw her, one where you stormed out promising retribution against all who wronged you? I mean, it didn't quite seem like you," he adds, "but it did fit with a certain side of you that, perhaps, didn't get to keep the puppy your favorite uncle gave to you on your eighth birthday."
"I can promise you with utmost sincerity, Uncle, that my retribution against those who have wronged me will come with absolutely no warning or public declaration. What. Is. Going. On?"
"As far as I know, it is exactly as I told you. We are being mined of our finest resources here by the Albarea lapdogs in their attempt to nuzzle at the foot of the King and get a biscuit. The biscuit can be any number of things, almost all of them metaphorical."
Yves leans over and whispers to Linnet, "While I don't want to encourage the whole 'pet' thing in general, maybe /he/ needs a kitten."
"It would appear," Nils goes on, "that perhaps your immediate family has attempted to remove you from the current narrative, though to what end I do not know."
Isa frowns, at that. "They're not the only ones. Does Albarea think that we are a corpse to be picked over at their leisure? Do the other Houses?"
Linnet whispers back, "Do you want to go get one?"
"Albarea clearly does. The others? Hardly not! Why, just three months ago I got a nice fruit basket from Dunan. Shame Kjier is allergic to bananas," Nils says.
"Dunan stands with us, then?" Isa looks thoughtful, some context with her last conversation with Lily clicking into place.
“Or did they send the bananas as an insult?” Orrey asks.
"They and their peaches. At least, the peaches did before we ate them. We make our own ice cream here! Well, the ice cream is a byproduct, technically," Nils says thoughtfully.
"Our files on each other aren't usually that detailed, Orrey. At least not for people outside the line of inheritance." Isa turns back to Nils. "Is Kjier with Sjrl?"
Orrey nods and writes that down in his notebook.
Nils sweeps over to Bast, drawing him back into the conversation and away from the microphone. He drops a small device into Bast's hands, a nondescript copper disc with six buttons on the side. "A noise canceler. Deadens the sound in a room into one low, boring hum from the ouside. Excellent for children's birthday parties when only one of you has to entertain. I have a dozen, you can keep that one."
"And yes, they are together at the Albarea Summer Estate," Nils says to Isa. "Enjoying the finest hospitality one can have as a political hostage. I can only hope Sjrl's not learning improper dragoon technique, not that it'll land with him regardless."
Yves shakes his head slightly at Linnet. "Tempting, but unless we're /sure/..." He is somewhat distracted by the enchanting idea of the noise canceler.
Isa sighs. "Alright. I need to think about this for a bit. Someone else want to talk about why we actually came here?"
Orrey looks up from his notes. “You mean about the cannon?”
"Oh right. We were going to come knock on the door with the cannon pointing at the door and a couerl kitten riding the barrel, but the Albarea ships kinda put paid to that idea," Linnet says.
"We weren't going to do that," Isa notes.
Nils looks at Isa with a sudden blast of pure, unadulterated horror. "Isaline. Are they actors?"
Isa nods sadly. "Unfortunately, I have fallen in with a bad crowd during these trying times."
"We're not actors. We left them back on the ship," Linnet says.
"Many of them are...theatrical," Isa adds.
Bast looks like he has about a dozen questions ready to go with others getting in line behind them, but settles for a "Thank you, this should be quite useful" for now and pockets the device. "I've tried to keep her out of trouble, but alas, she may be destined for the stage."
"I haven't been on a non-academic stage since I was /nine/," Yves says.
"And you shouldn't! It's terrible work, mummery." Nils still looks offended, and keeps a table between he and Linnet, just in case someone does something to the fourth wall and offends Cardian sensibilities.
Linnet just grins and begins humming a catchy tune about a pirate king.
Nils puts a smaller disc on a chain and quickly drops it on Linnet's shoulders. She goes oddly silent to everyone else. "Now," he says, rubbing his hands together briskly, "what's this about a cannon?"
(When Linnet realizes the effect, she busts out laughing - still silently - and thanks Nils with a bow, then continues humming.)
"How familiar are you with the AZYS Corporation?" Bast asks.
Nils blinks. "They make... pants, perhaps?"
"If 'pants' means 'crystal-powered magitech with a heavy side of illegal medical experiments and biological warfare' in Cardia, perhaps," Bast says.
"They should stick to making pants, then," Nils says.
"And inappropriate animal testing on /non-domesticated animals/," Yves says, with the air of someone who has followed up various other misdemeanor charges with the felony.
"My word," Nils says diplomatically. "I assume you are hiding a dramatic reveal for the... third act, or something, whatever it is you thespians do, to explain why this is relevant to me?"
Isa has found a chair, and is sitting with her hands knit together between her knees. "Kjier's name was on some paperwork; a sizable investment on behalf of Highwind. We came to ask him about it but, you know, hostage."
Nils blinks. "Kjier? Investing in... in biological warfare? Isaline, surely, surely..."
“Or was he forced to sign it by his captors?” Orrey speculates.
"There were other projects. One of which we brought with us. Polymorphic artillery ring any bells?" Isa asks.
Bast glances at Orrey. "I don't think AZYS works fast enough to whip up all of that in a month or so."
Nils walks slowly over toward one of his tables, picking up speed as he rifles through folders and loose sheets of paper until he finds what he's looking for. "What did they look like?" he asks.
"Yves? You're the expert."
"The captors, the papers, the artillery, or the cannon?" Linnet asks.
"No one can hear you, my dear," Nils says to Linnet.
"Fair enough." Linnet returns to singing quietly, as it keeps her mind off everything but still lets her listen.
"Here, let me show you some of the studies I did on the cannon, and its ammunition," Yves says, pulling out one of his notebooks. "Though Orrey would be able to do a better job of showing you what happened with some of the... biological side effects."
Orrey grabs the tiny disk on a chain off of Linnet’s shoulder and offers it back to Nils. “I have some sketches of the, uh, incident.”
Nils gestures for Yves and Orrey to join him at the table, so he can look at their notes.
"Anyone remember what the name of that syndrome is? Because we might not have sketches of that, but it's pretty relevant here as well," Bast asks.
"It's fine, Orrey. And, Azjol-Ruvan. I sure as hell remember," Linnet says. She isn't in a rush to move.
Nils goes over the sketches and diagrams, muttering very quickly to himself as he does so, comparing them with some chocobo scratch on the papers in front of him. Two things of note come out of him, the first being "why would they fire those" and the second being "they found a source.
"Well," he says to the group at large, "my professional opinion is that this seems bad, and I should hope they don't have it any longer."
"...they at least have /less/ than before," Yves says cautiously.
"So why'd we pay for it?" Isa wonders.
"I don't know," Nils says, his eyes wide. "I certainly wouldn't have."
"Alright, reason number three to burn Albarea to the ground and get your family back."
“Maybe in reverse order, Isa?” Orrey suggests.
"Pillage, then burn, Isa," Linnet adds.
"Good point. Thanks for keeping the priorities straight."
"Well, whatever you do, you're not going to do anything to put Kjier or Sjrl in any danger," Nils says to everyone except his perfect niece. "You're going to be careful and not start a civil war, there's enough of that down south and we don't want any of that making it up here."
"Yessir," Linnet says.
"...if we're an outside party, it's not a /civil/ war, strictly speaking," Yves says. "...I mean, yes, of course."
“How do we sneak in and rescue your family, Isa?” Orrey asks.
"What was that fourth word? I didn't catch it."
“Smash our way in, then.” Orrey corrects himself.
"Can't do that either. If Houses start shooting at each other it's going to go very badly." Isa thinks. "Shit. Shit shit shit. I don't want to."
"Deceive our way in?" Yves suggests tentatively.
"On that note, how...problematic is it for Isa to be back in Cardia at this time? Politically, legally, and so on." Bast thinks. "For that matter, how does Albarea stand with the King and the law after their show of initiative here?"
"Do you need a disguise? Should I get our hair and makeup crew on the job?" Linnet asks.
Orrey looks thoughtful. “Can we take some of the Albarea hostage and exchange them?”
"I wish I had any of the answers to your questions, but I do not. I am a hermit engineer who lives in the mountains and makes discs that either set things on fire or wick away excess moisture, depending on size," Nils says.
Isa looks utterly defeated. "There's no choice. I have to...talk to my mother. Fuck."
"I am sure she will be delighted to see you," Nils says diplomatically.
Orrey looks thoroughly confused.
"Yeah, I'm the jewel in her crown. I'm putting her at the bottom of our itinerary though."
"We could just do a daring drop-in and leap-out attack from above to retrieve hostages while pretending to be unaffiliated pirates, so as not to cause more Politics," suggests Yves, who understands family meetings.
Isa looks at Orrey. "It's a matter between Houses. My mother is Osler. So if I do anything to them without clearing it with her, either she's got to back it to the hilt, or cut me off publicly and finally. And I can't tell which way she'd go. "And if she hasn't done anything yet it means she's got plans in motion, and if I interfere with them I can tell you which way she'd go. It's not the good way," Isa stage-whispers.
"Right. I'll start working on Plan Opera, I've got the music planned already and everything. Give me a holler when you need folks in position." Linnet is already lost somewhere in choreography land, mapping out groups of singers here, here, and here and humming something very dramatic.
"Uncle Nils, is there anything we can do for you right now? We're on this, I promise, but we can't clear Albarea out of the station today."
Nils shudders at the stage whisper, and walks over to the bed and pulls out the most boring book he can find. He then hands it to Isa. "Before too much more of them rubs off on you."
"Couerls. Several. Just sayin'." Linnet winks.
"Oh, yes. Would you like a kitten?" Isa asks.
"...notwhatImeantbutok"
"Under any other circumstance I would say yes, but I worry that I cannot well provide for a kitten in my current situation." He hesitates. "But tell me of the kitten?"
"It is, unfortunately, accustomed to people, and can't be returned to the wild," Yves says woefully. "...it might also shoot people with tentacle lasers, but not until it's fully grown, so, not for some time yet."
"Well, I should think that perhaps it just doesn't know how best to use the tentacle lasers. You've twisted my arm. And to answer the question, I do not think so, Isaline. I trust that I will be taken care of here, and that my husband and son will be there, for as long as we remain useful. Just be careful."
Isa stands up. "I will be. We're family, after all."
And with that... End Session 47.