Session 54 - Big Himbo Energy

Previously, Across the Horizon...
The Osler Family Estate has brought Osler Family News, which carries Osler Family Drama, which then brought about Osler Family Determination.
It is due to said determination that the party find themselves preparing for a raid on a noble Cardia house's shipbuilding facility, though it's unlikely they would be considered pawns in an elitist's game since one of said pawns is the second daughter of the Osler house itself.
The noble family Albarea has been taking advantage of the poor political state of the Osler family to take what they can get from the Oslers, knowing that the Oslers have no allies at court due to their disgrace. Count Elina Osler has her own countermeasures already deployed, though Isa's return to Cardia with a ship of no small stature has brought with it new opportunities.
The Jozech Shipyard is one of Albarea's production facilities, creating the corvettes that patrol Cardian skies to keep the nation safe from any who would invade it. A blow to its production capabilities would reflect poorly on Albarea's ability to manage its own affairs, not to mention give others a new weak point to exploit.
With nothing traceable to the Osler family, it will be crystal clear that the Oslers were the ones to manufacture this weakness, and there will be nothing anyone can do about it without overstepping bounds in court.
With just enough of a plan to be dangerous, our heroes prepare to depart the village of Platzhalter and leave Isa's family home behind for now, though not before checking in on the status of their cover story in the village itself.
We join our heroes on this 26th day of Kuganepo, under a light snow as the sun casts a weak light through the clouds that swept in overnight...
**
The chocobos have been fed and saddled by the gate heading away from the Estate, your papers secured, your coats cleaned, your party set to venture forth.
If there is anything left to do before leaving the Osler Country Estate behind and going to collect the actors, this is the time.
Yves is engaged in a quiet, intense staring contest with his assigned chocobo.
Bast eyes his chocobo suspiciously, as if trying to decide whether it's plotting against him.
Isa spent part of the previous evening penning a letter for her father, and is now entrusting the sealed envelope to a family retainer. Her goodbyes to her mother, whatever form they took, were performed without the rest of the crew being present.
The chocobo on the other side of Yves's stare, Bokoblin, looks... eager.
Bast's chocobo is calmly enjoying its breakfast of gysahl greens, biding its time before The Event, whatever The Event is to be today. A low-hanging branch? A rabbit dashing through the trees to spook bird and rider both? Unexplained mayhem? Could be anything. Best to have one's strength.
Linnet is already seated and quietly singing pre-battle songs to the chocobos, trying not to have anyone at the house hear. Just in case.
"So we understand each other," Yves murmurs, and breaks his gaze away from Bokoblin. He looks about as refreshed as a man can in freshly laundered clothing after a good breakfast, right before a chocobo ride and then daring, complex secret raid on an airship facility in dubiously friendly territory.
wark is the reply. wark always is the reply. wark always is the alibi.
Isa returns to the group, hooking a foot into a stirrup and mounting her chocobo smoothly. "Five gil says the troupe's been run out of town when we get there," she offers by way of a friendly wager.
"I'll take that but double it if it's entirely because of Apoc," Linnet says.
Yves mounts up, far less smoothly, and says, "I'll put five gil on Apoc having kept the troupe from being run out of town. He's... persuasive."
Bast, eventually on top of his chocobo, merely says "Let's go see if we still have a crew."
To a chocobo, "let's go" is all that's needed.
With a chorus of warrrrrrrrrrks, the birds are away, thundering through the snow, at least one of the five riders keeping it all under control.
There is nothing silent about a chocobo ride, as putting two chocobos near each other in motion brings about an almost constant stream of communication from them, all warks and burbles and kwehs and chirps and the like.
"I... wonder if... the flying ones... are less... bouncy?" Yves muses between steps.
The ride is quick, as chocobos know where the greens are greener, and after an enjoyable(?) ride in the snow (and one deftly managed berry bush that jumped out in front of Bast's bird), the party emerges into that most unusual of Cardian events; The Play.
All of Platzhalter has turned out for the performance, a well-promoted six-person show of The Mogtastics, and to Linnet's trained eye as she rides by toward the stable, the performance is going well. The acting is solid, the stage is the sort of thing that can be broken down in ten minutes in case one must exit in a hurry, the props are used reasonably well, the costuming is flashy without being ostentatious by the audience's standard, and Rahel is, as always, radiant.
All of Platzhalter is watching, but not a single one of them is so much as breathing loudly.
The Mogtastics is a comedy.
The crowd is a set of statues.
They are dying up there.
"Dammit, where's a fake applause spell when you need one..." Linnet mutters under her breath.
Isa takes a small handful of coins from her belt pouch, and hands them wordlessly to Linnet.
Yves manages to wrangle Bokoblin closer to Isa (he has an understanding with the chocobo now! really!) and whispers, "Do people here just hold all their reactions for the end of the show?"
"Not much theater up this way?" Bast comments in an aside to Isa over the various chocobo noises.
The chocobo rental stableowner, a human woman with a thick wool coat and a long red braid, stands mutely by the entrance to the stable, watching the show from afar. Owen Moda, the friendly helper at the Estate who fed the falcons with the crystal dishes, towers beside her, occasionally taking a bite of a banana as he watches.
Isa shrugs. "If you have a good story, it should stand on its own. If you need to dress it up in..." she gestures to the stage, "then you're taking the joy out of it."
Yves looks at Isa. Looks at the stage. Looks back to Isa. Looks at the crowd. Looks at Isa once more. "...okay, this explains a lot," he says quietly to himself.
"In actors?" That's almost a smile from Bast.
Linnet hears Yves and groans quietly, smacking her forehead. "Well, there's only three songs left. Do we want to stick around and try to inject some life into the audience, stick around and play additional bricks in the wall, or go for a quick fifteen-minute ride and pick them up when they're done?" She watches Rahel spin herself nearly to pieces in the borderline-mad scene and physically winces at the lack of any participation from the audience. It's like they're painted scenery themselves. Unbelievable.
Owen shakes himself out of the awe of the performance when Bokoblin quite cheerfully bumps him beak-to-temple. "Oh, hey, I can take the birds. How was your visit to your -- your friends at the estate?" he catches himself, the subtlety perhaps not needing the big wink he gives Isa right afterwards.
Yves is more than happy to get off his bird, and gives Bokoblin a solid nod of acquaintanceship well made. "Might as well see this through," he tells Linnet.
Isa hands over her reins. "A heartfelt reunion after too long apart," she says drily. "Are you enjoying the show, Owen?"
Over the course of the next two minutes, Owen tries the first words of six sentences out, before settling with "I think they seem very nice and I hope they enjoy what they do."
"The stage looks well built," he adds after a moment.
"I think they enjoy nothing more," Isa allows.
That seems to sadden him. "They're probably leaving Cardia soon, right?" he then asks, entirely innocently.
"Three...two and a half more songs," Isa replies.
(Two, now; Rahel and Apoc are having their big realization that twue wuv doesn't require going almost mad. Or at least, in Rahel's case it doesn't. Apoc is overacting so much that it's hard to tell with him.)
"Do you think they would need..." Owen thinks, quirking his lantern jaw from left to right, his hand idly playing with the ends of his braids. "...someone to carry the stage, or anything?"
(Clayton and Brandt, playing their fathers who set up the whole thing in the first place, are pretending to be tilling a vegetable garden. Mogratheo, as the colorful bandit-gypsy-ethnically ambiguous wandering party-crasher, is fidgeting at the edge of the stage and waiting to crash in the instant this love scene is over.)
Isa tilts her head a bit to the side. "Owen, are you considering the life of a traveling thespian?"
His eyes widen in light terror at the very idea.
(Linnet is mouthing along with Rahel's part of the song; she's Rahel's understudy.)
"I need to deliver something I found, and the Navy didn't really work out, so..." he says instead.
"...is personal mail also not the custom in Cardia?" Bast asks.
"Well, I'm not carrying the stage," says Yves, who looks like he might break in half if he tried to pick up the steps alone.
"There are numerous things one wouldn't trust to the post," Isa says to Bast. To Owen, she doesn't ask what, but instead "where to?"
"To Alvin Cordoba," Owen says. "I don't know where he lives."
"Sure", says Bast, looking very skeptical about Owen having been entrusted with something sensitive to deliver.
"I mean, I found it on a pirate ship that I blew up, but then I got fired, so I don't know where it's supposed to go," Owen says helplessly.
Yves blinks a few times. "...was it a pirate ship you were /supposed/ to blow up?"
"Oho. Maybe you're cut out for adventure after all?" Bast says with a grin.
(Finally, the love scene is over - nobody's dead, from overacting or otherwise - and Mogratheo has gotten his chance to chew up the scenery some more. Now, everyone's standing at the front of the stage holding hands in a line and singing a totally forgettable closing song as Trelle strums chords on their ukelele.)
"So was there a label on it, or is Alvin someone you know?" Bast asks.
(It seems the elaborate choreography for this final dance has been ditched entirely; the stage is too small for it anyway.)
"Well -- so I went to school like you're supposed to, and I'd been working on a patrol ship for two months, and there was a fight, and there was an order I misheard. The call was 'wheel to port,' I thought that meant to wheel the cannon over to the port side of the ship, and the cannon was stuck, so I picked it up and moved it over instead, and then no one was there with me when the ship came in real close, and I knew how to fire a cannon from the books they had us read, so I did." Owen looks very sheepish. "And the pirate ship went down, but apparently the cannon was broken, and they're really expensive, so I was sent home. At least they didn't make me pay for the cannon."
At this tale, Isa's expression takes on the same cast as Linnet's, when the sylph was looking at the audience reaction.
"That sounds like an easy mistake to make," Yves says. "Bit unreasonable they'd hold that against you, since you won and all."
"But before that, when they had me carry the confiscated property to our ship, I found a book wrapped up like a birthday present or something, and there was a tag on it that said 'Alvin Cordoba,' and the note said 'To My Boy,' and maybe someone's son is supposed to get a present and the captain didn't think it was important but it just struck me that maybe some little boy out there was waiting for a gift, so I kinda have the book now and I was thinking I could find Alvin myself and take the book to him."
(The song wraps up, the makeshift lights dim, final bows are taken, and everyone holds their breath...)
Owen looks up at the stage, as the spell descends over everyone. Even the chocobos, who have been happily chattering to each other, are quiet.
The people of Platzhalter may be unmoved, but they are not monsters. There is applause. It is polite, restrained, and rather than enthusiastic gratitude for the performance it has the sense of thanking someone for the thought and consideration put in. It is the applause equivalent of an award for Best Effort.
Owen applauds as honestly and forthrightly as he can.
Apoc looks very much like he wishes to die.
Yves applauds sympathetically.
The troupe all take bows, notably do not go for a second set since the applause ends as soon as they leave the stage, and then they set about breaking the stage down, no one really meeting anyone else's eyes.
Linnet slips in among them and squeezes hands and shoulders in sympathy as she packs up props. "Well, thank you all for the cover story. I'm sorry, I had no idea we were sending you to perform for an entire town of Isas."
"I don't know where Alvin is," Owen says after another bite of his banana, "but I thought I would start at the Triad? Maybe someone there knows him, if he's related to pirates, or maybe someone's present got stolen and they reported it to the authorities." He folds his banana peel up so he can throw it away later.
Isa didn't even bother with perfunctory applause, but she and Apoc share an opinion on his mortality anyway. "Well, Owen, I have absolutely no idea who this Alvin Cordoba is, but since it's a book and not a strangely carved mask that whispers to you at night, I think we can probably lend a hand with getting you two together."
Owen looks absolutely thrilled. "You'll put in a good word with the actors for me?!"
"...though if it does start whispering to you at night, you should probably let us know," Yves adds, for the sake of thoroughness.
Linnet is already having to peel some of the actors' eyes away from Owen. That good word shouldn't be hard. Not that staring is in any way discouraged, unless you're carrying several stage flats and not watching where you're going.
"You're free to travel for a bit?" Isa asks, taking note of the actors. "I am sure their routes aren't straightforward; it might be a while before you see the Triad."
"You're free to travel for a bit?" Isa asks, taking note of the actors. "I am sure their routes aren't straightforward; it might be a while before you see the Triad."
"I've just been helping Count Osler out while her children are away," he says. "I'll miss the birds, but they're good birds, they can get along without me."
"Dining standards might slip, though," Bast mutters under his breath.
Yves presses a fist against his mouth. Thoughtfully. Really.
Isa nods, understanding. "It must be hard for her in these trying times, with only the three-score summer staff to see to the household."
Owen nods eagerly, glad to know he's among understanding friends.
Linnet reappears with a garment bag slung over one shoulder and a group of actors in various stages of glumness and loadedness-for-bear behind her. "Well, friends, what say we quit this place, the sooner the better?"
Isa nods to Linnet, and looks at Bast. "Room on the schedule for some light courier duty, Captain?"
"Sure - doesn't sound like it's too urgent, and we'll be back in the Triad sooner or later."
Owen looks from the actors, to Linnet, to Isa, to the actors, to Bast, to Yves, to Isa, to Yves, to Bokoblin, to the actors, to Linnet, and then back at Bokoblin, as the chocobo is very interested in inserting itself into the conversation. He scratches it below the beak as comprehension stretches across his face with the speed of the sunrise. "...you all manage the actors!!"
Bast takes that in. "Just about."
Owen's forehead wrinkles. "I guess you never know if something will work somewhere unless you try," he says diplomatically.
Isa shrugs. "They were insistent."
"We ferry the actors. The stage manager's back on the ship." Linnet winks. (Turns out he's still on the ship - a six-person show as well rehearsed as this one doesn't need much stage managing.)
"'Miserable hamlet', huh. Now there's a name crying out for a play," Bast says.
"Captain, please, not until we're in motion. No further distractions." But there are thoughtful grins all around.
Owen grabs the disassembled stage, lifting Mogratheo by accident as well. "This is amazing!"
Isa has locked herself in her cabin with explicit instructions not to be disturbed until the Jozech briefing is ready.
Yves has gone to his cabin, without bonus locks, to stare intently at things that have not /recently/ been whispering to him in the night but really you never know.
There is a knock at Isa's door about forty-five minutes later, with another woman's voice on the other side just saying "coffee," then departing footsteps. A mug of coffee is on a tray outside her room. There is also some whiskey, plus a note just saying "thanks."
Jasper gives the report to Bast on what happened during his absence, the report helpfully breaking out "Important Stuff" (basically nothing) and "Stuff For Linnet" (the trials and tribulations of a ship full of dramatic personae).
Perilune is eager to hear about the trip, and monopolizes Linnet's time until the call comes.
"Officers to the Situation Room," Marina says dryly across the speaker system, as if someone has just told her that it's a good phrase to use now.
"We have a Situation Room? Oh, right, the one where all the coffee mugs gravitate to. You're in charge of keeping Triscuit out of the kitchen for the next couple hours, Peri." Linnet grabs a pot of coffee and a plate of scones and heads in a briefing-wards direction.
Yves, having remembered that he too is an officer, reports to the situation room.
Isa is already sipping from a mug as she enters the briefing, a mug that the keen-eyed will note is not one of the ones she jealously monopolizes from the kitchen.
Bast is sitting in his usual chair without coffee, fingers intertwined, thumbs occassionally tapping out something without rhythm on the table.
There are two other people in the room. Celeste Meracydia, ship navigator, stands by a table full of charts and rolled-up maps, still wearing that ludicrous dagger as a fashion piece. Chmurka, ship spymaster, is sitting in a chair turned almost entirely into the corner, with only Bast able to actually see any part of her person.
"Intel's ready," Chmurka says.
Celeste looks momentarily crestfallen at not being able to prepare a full report, but rallies. "The goal is to gain access to the Jozech facility and, through misadventure, compromise it, correct?" she says.
"...also maybe steal their stuff," Yves adds helpfully.
Celeste jots down "archaeological expedition" in her notes.
"Damage confined to property and materiel, avoiding casualties as a priority," Isa adds with a nod to Linnet.
Linnet bows her head in thanks and starts pouring coffee and distributing snacks.
"That eliminates the artillery option, which I'd eliminated already for you," Chmurka says, probably, the chair catching every fourth or fifth word. "We don't have the tested firepower to take it out from afar."
"We have upper limits on the physical damage we should inflict anyway, no leveling the place or we may catch attention above our pay grade and firepower. Taking everything that's not bolted down is fine, though."
"Jozech builds patrol corvettes," the spymaster continues. "As expected, it has some working. Six stationed there in full operation, patrolling in eight-hour shifts, two at a time. Eight anti-air cannons are positioned throughout the facility, covering all approach vectors. Mix of munitions available." Bast catches a gleam in her eye. "They also have a guest, as of a week ago."
Celeste takes the ball. "The Albarea flagship Aranea docked at Jozech on the 20th."
"Word is they're getting a cannon refit. Likely using some of the new stuff they've stolen," Chmurka says.
"Being fit with Highwind cannon?" Isa looks personally offended.
"The modifications themselves are unknown, but there's been a steady set of supply ships coming from Highwind since its occupation," Chmurka says. "Albarea is a peacock house. They like to look good. No reason to leave the new toys on the shelf." Chmurka has never been the showy type.
"Mm. Let's see if we can get away with burning the Aranea while we're visiting." It's not at all clear whether Bast might be joking here. "How much does its presence complicate things?"
"If it's in the sky when we get there, we're done for," Isa says plainly.
"Does that mean we lure it away, or ground it?" Yves asks.
"Introduces chaos, which is good." Chmurka is reciting from memory. "Roughly a hundred and fifty people onsite normally. That includes custodial staff, cooks, administrative staff, and ground troops. There are uniforms for those onsite, primarily gray-green coveralls, with armbands designating rank and position. We have the color grades."
"An up-front fight doesn't seem like a winning option for us in any case with this setup. Sneaking in while the place has lots of relative unknowns around might work," Bast says.
Celeste spreads out a map on the table and leans over it, taking Isa's mug and having it hold down a corner. "The shipyard is inaccessible by land; all supplies arrive by air. There are many caves in the mountains, and intelligence says there is a route through the mountains to get there. Intelligence also suggests that Albarea is probably aware of it." Her orange fingernails trace along the topography to a series of small hexagonal marks. "There are a lot of caves in the region, though, and the earthquake in Itami rearranged enough of the caverns in Osler lands that alternative pathways are likely, but unmapped and the danger is unknown."
Isa spreads her hands in silent protest, but does not reclaim the mug. "What ships are they using to bring in supplies? We might have a better time seizing one on the route from Highwind."
"We come by air, we'd best have credentials that they'll swallow, thank us and ask for more. Pretending to be an Albarea ship is out with mama bear on-site, so we'd have to pull rank, and I doubt we can pull that off without a lot more intel and practice. Incidentally, Isa, how hard would the King be likely to take exception to someone impersonating her officers?"
Isa shakes her head. "The Royal Navy is a lot smaller than you're thinking, and mostly ceremonial. The bulk of Cardia's standing forces are the House regiments, supplemented by chasseur corps in times of need. If we claimed to be directly from the King there'd be more questions than we'd be able to answer."
"Could also sneak aboard on one of the supply ships," Chmurka says. "Doubt we can refit ours to look like one in no time, but they arrive every four days, next one slated for the 1st. Keelbacks," she says in Isa's direction. "Transport ships. Small crew, no weapons. They've been skipping the escort phase for the last four shipments, since the stations are only in Albarea lands now, by their measure."
Bast nods in response to Isa. "Any houses in a position to request or requisition things from Albarea?"
Isa nods. "Great. I'd put a small team in the pass here. Albarea's patrolling, and they'll put their attention there if they spot us. Which means they'll be paying less attention to the shipments coming in, which is where the larger team will be making their entry."
"What do you figure will rile them up more - sighting a team in the pass, or signs that they missed one?" Bast asks.
Celeste holds the cap to her pen between her teeth, looking thoughtfully at the map, taking notes on potential approaches.
"Anyone caught there is going to have to have a real good cover story, so if we make them think someone was there..."
"Especially if we can leave some clues to draw them into the caves." Bast's smile is not a nice sort of smile.
Isa lifts an eyebrow. "The unmapped, possibly unstable caves?"
"Would take lots of people to mount a search in there. Lots of people with incentive to show how seriously they take Albarea security," Bast says.
Celeste jots more notes down, tapping two particular hexagonal entrance markers with the back of her pen to note her preferred points of entry.
"One decoy team to set the traps?" Chmurka asks.
Yves leans in on his elbows, looking over the map, with a slight furrow in his brow.
"Makes sense. Who would you suggest?" Bast asks Chmurka.
"Me, for one," Celeste says without looking up from her notes.
"...do we have anyone slightly less disastrous to lose in an unstable cave collapse?" points out a very anxious Linnet.
"We don't have anyone I'd trust more to get out of one," Isa counters.
Celeste beams with pride.
"Someone practiced with whatever you're using as your time-wasters," Chmurka says, skipping the word 'explosive' out of deference to the anxiety sylph. "Someone who can fight if you get caught. Someone else who can fight if they're good like Orrey is with debilitation. You put these types of teams together more than I did," she says to Bast. "Who else?"
"For your team, taking a ship -- who will fly it for you?" Celeste asks Isa.
"I've trained on Keelbacks," Isa says. "They're not built for anything more complicated than getting from A to B."
Celeste nods, her trust absolute.
Yves twitches an ear. "So are we infiltrating one of those, or just, uh, borrowing it?"
"...are we expecting complicated flying, in addition to complicated...everything else?" There's a good reason Linnet has been silent for most of this briefing, and that reason is "not making everyone else anxious by asking too many questions."
"We're not going to be able to get aboard a supply ship unnoticed," Isa says. "My hope is we can overwhelm them quickly and completely before there is any trouble."
"For the distraction team, an experienced tracker would be good, to know the best ways to screw with theirs. Short of that, I can try and improvise. Think we could get in and out of the pass unnoticed, or do we actually have to go through the caves and not just lead them in there?" Bast asks. "I think we'll need to be open to both possibilities," Isa admits.
"Someone leaving over the pass is less work for them to check, so its value as a distraction is limited. Isa, are you on the ship team? Seems like we'd want as little face time with Albarea as possible for you," Bast says.
Isa nods. "If I'm caught in the pass, all plausible deniability goes out the window."
"I suppose...put me wherever we're most likely to need to bluff to people's faces? I'm not likely to be much good at blowing things up on purpose," Linnet says.
"I'm good at blowing things up on purpose, and wandering around in the dark, but not so much with the climbing," Yves says, "so possibly I should stand behind Linnet, say nothing, and, uh, wait for a signal, just in case."
"If the cave team needs to do that then we're already in deep shit. You'd be best for ship team, I think. Isa, got a plan for getting us a ship and keeping a lid on its crew?" Bast asks.
"Working on it, but yes."
"I might be able to help with the lid-keeping, once we have them, uh, contained for a bit," Yves says, gaze going distant. "Let me think about that."
Bast nods. "I'm thinking...a sufficiently showy sabotage of the Aranea probably gives them enough of a black eye by itself, but might also provide excellent cover for our exit, especially if the decoy team makes them sufficiently twitchy ahead of time. We have at least a sketch of how we get in. Let's see if we can nail down more of what we can do while there, so we don't have to improvise it all."
And with that... End session.