Session 59 - Ship of Drama
The time has come to put the Jozech Raid officially in the past, and for that, there is paperwork.
Jasper has finished logging the additional inventory, primarily one (1) new airship and entirely too many containers of highly-explosive bluespirit ore.
Apoc has finished logging a multitude of chipper family stories from Yves, seemingly the only person on the crew who is eager to hear all of the stories of Yna Mjrwin. He never makes the face the others make, either.
Perilune has finished logging the number of anxiety attacks Linnet has had about the caves, which was ultimately determined to be "a reasonable amount, but I'll keep quiet around the captain just the same."
Celeste has finished logging the damage done to the mountain, her best estimates of the geological consequences going onto Bast's deck (read that: Chmurka) and Isa's desk (Isa actually has a desk).
All that remains on the list was delivering more paperwork to the client, though as the client is the Count Osler, it was unanimously agreed upon that Isa would be the one to bring word of their successes.
And so, with Orrey, Linnet, Bast, and Yves sitting on either side of her, we find Isa delivering word of the Jozech mission to her mother, every word being weighed and measured, every reaction deployed with all the gravity of a battleship...
**
Isa stands to report, eyes locked past her mother to the enormous map wall as she recites. "On 25 Kuganepo, we entered Jozech Valley. A ground-based team lured Albarea sentries from their posts into the mountain passes, and were able to confound them without being directly confronted or identified. Simultaneously, a second team seized control of an Albarea supply ship without incident, and proceeded to infiltrate the shipyard in order to destabilize and hinder production.
"Unfortunately, an unidentified third party was undertaking their own operation at the shipyard, one of a significantly more destructive nature. While the shipyard team was able to achieve its major goals, due to this unpredictable interference the damage to the shipyard was more than intended and may represent a potential serious threat to national military readiness. However, the resulting confusion from the intersecting operations makes it a near complete certainty that no positive identification of the team members could be made. "The shipyard team was able to extract a significant portion of the bluespirit supply from the depot; approximately eighteen zentner. Our engineering team intends to hold back ten percent of this for research purposes, but the remainder will need to be disposed in a manner that will not draw attention to our involvement." She does not sit back down after completing her statement. Count Osler inspects Isa's face from across the table, and then without moving any visible muscles, sweeps the full force of her attention across the rest of the group, one at a time, looking for any weaknesses. Linnet bears the brunt of this social pressure. Orrey smiles pleasantly. Bast's face might as well be a mask. Linnet's face is a delicate balance of bland politeness, weary resignation, a near-complete absence of fucks, and the repressed desire to scream bloody murder at the entire assembly. Yves is still full of warm fuzzy feelings from rediscovering his grandmother, who is clearly very good at her job. "What do you know of this third party?" Count Osler requests. (Linnet does not actually move to clap a hand across Yves' mouth, but she thinks it very hard at him.) Isa doesn't hesitate when presented with a bus. "Their plan of attack, detailed in the written report, and a name for the agent we encountered. Cosmog Palantiot. She may be a mercenary." "You are a mercenary." The Count does not let her opinion of this fact reflect in her voice or manner. "Do you think she was acting alone, or on another's orders?" Bast looks like he might object to this classification of one of his officers, but holds back. Orrey glances at Linnet and asks quietly, "I thought we were bounty hunters?" Isa doesn't seem troubled by it. "The scale suggests she was working with others, but there's no evidence that we saw either way. We didn't converse." Yves, who is generally at least vaguely aware that his grandmother's perfectly reasonable job sometimes upsets people who don't quite understand these things, remains pleasantly, amiably quiet. Linnet pats Orrey's hand and whispers "Later" without turning her eyes away from the Count. "The level of destruction indicated would point to this being done by non-Cardian interests," the Count says rather confidently. "External threats are always easier to address, after all." Isa nods. "Of course. The intended level of destruction would have been catastrophic. Possibly rendering Jozech a complete loss, rather than a lengthy and expensive reclamation effort." A noncommittal noise emerges from the Count. "We will investigate." After a moment's thoughtful silence, she says, "Are there any other items you wish to cover here that are not in the report?" Isa considers. "Only if you have some insight on the disposition of surplus bluespirit. It is far more than is needed, or wanted, aboard Starfall. Putting it on the open market is of course out of the question, but operating expenses are an unfortunate reality of airships." "Much of reality is unfortunate. I will see to it," is the smooth reply. Isa nods. "In that case there is nothing further to report, your Grace." She inclines her head slightly to the standing Isa, somehow conveying that everyone else should also be standing without any further motion on her part. "Your service to Cardia is duly noted, and I am sure Albarea will be dealing with the repercussions of this third party's actions for some time to follow. I bid you all safe travels." "Thank you. I look forward to hearing news of Highwind soon; uncle Kjier and I still have things to discuss." Isa bows from the shoulders, and makes to take her leave. "I expect to see you for Myrta's birthday. Starfall." The second sentence was just an acknowledgement of everyone's departure, but linking those two thoughts together is not something that happens by accident. "A pleasure, your Grace." Bast's smile on his way out is nothing resembling formal. Orrey just smiles and gives a small wave and follows Isa out. Yves bobs a nod that's sort of vaguely in the direction of where a bow would go if he knew how to do a bow, which he does not, but it's the thought that counts, right? Linnet bows, not the full deep bow of an underling but deeper than one would to an equal, and follows the party out before the Count can hear her teeth grinding. A short time later, five chocobos are riding back to the field outside the village where Starfall is anchored. Isa pulls up next to Bast. "When we get back to the ship, you need to warn the crew that the Count's men are going to be arriving in order to take possession of the bluespirit. It's going to look like they're throwing their weight around. Tell them to let it happen." Orrey looks thoughtful, then approaches Isa and Bast. "Are we...did we get invited to a birthday party? For your sister?" Bast looks vaguely amused. "I'm sure our actors are up to the task. I have to ask - did you need any interrogation training, at the academy?" Isa chuckles, ruefully. "Top marks in composure," she admits. To Orrey, she nods. "Not for a while, but yes, I think you did." "Is there an instructional manual?" asks Yves warily, jouncing along on chocobo-back. "For interrogation training or for the birthday party?" Linnet mutters drily, having fallen slightly behind. Isa says "Oh, there will be classes," before goading her chocobo to a faster pace towards the ship. She leaves the answer to Linnet's question ominously unsaid. Bast mutters "...On The Proper Conduct Of Sibling Rivalry..." under his breath as he kicks his chocobo to follow suit. "I could write the non-examples for that one, Bast." Orrey sighs, thinking of his own sister. The Starfall looms ahead, though mostly because the ship's profile is much larger than the trees. The light snow has been heavily trodden down with chocobo tracks, and some of the actors are out and about, touching up paint jobs, having festive snowball fights because why not, working on lines and melodies, and generally being merry. Notably not merry, those in the front notice, is Rahel, the ship's chief representative to non-Cardians, who is flustered and frustrated and surly, muttering under her breath as she paces in the snow. Linnet can't let her best friend stay beflustricated, of course. "Okay, Fussbudget, off you pop," she tells her chocobo as she hops off and smacks it lightly on the rump. "Rahel? What's going on? Did Apoc say something stupid? Do I need to go yell at him? Because I am mightily in the mood to go yell at someone and I'm not real picky about my targets right now." "Hey, Apoc's not--" Yves thinks better of finishing that sentence, and just slides off his chocobo, somewhat less incompetently now that he's had some practice. "If I try to belt him with a snowball I'm very likely to hit someone else instead, but depending on who's in the way that might not be a bad idea..." "You could, but it wouldn't help. He is really picky about his target right now, and unfortunately, so is she." The leading actress of the Theater of the Untranslatable lets out a few phrases that don't need to be translated. "All they have to do is even hear about the other being around and it's 'she has to go,' 'he has to go,' it's exhausting. The drama." Bast claps his hands for attention. "Alright, everyone! We're going to have some humorless locals coming by shortly to take most of our recent cargo. Treat them like a stage manager you don't like - hold your noses and play along, save the comments for after." Apparently done, he hops down from his chocobo and approaches Rahel to see what's going on. "I thought we liked drama?" Orrey half asks, wryly. "So like Jasper, then!" comes a shout from someone, then a lot of laughter. The message is clearly received, though, and the actors scatter to make things look more respectable, having heard about the Oslers from at least one person on crew. "Jasper, don't take it personally, the captain's learning. Crew, think of it more like a director you can't stand." Based on the change in facial expressions, this is much easier to imagine. "We like drama that's at least one step removed from us personally, Orrey," Rahel says with absolutely no shame. Bast looks at Linnet. "Do you have a better idea than what all the rest of us heard about where those two are from and what their deal is?" Orrey nods at Rahel. "That makes a lot of sense." Again, thinking of Cassiat. "No more concrete information than the rest of you; I try not to bring it up with Peri, that just doesn't end well and unruffling feathers is really not my favorite hobby. But at least a few of us have siblings and are used to not getting along with them, so I think we're all visualizing it in a slightly more extreme version of that context. And there's only so far you can dance around the subject on a crowded ship with such a, um, well, flamboyant personality as Apoc involved." "Wrong kind of dancing," Yves says, with a sigh. "Tell me before I waltz out of your life / before turning my back on the past
Forgive my impertinent behavior, but how long do you think this pantomime can last?" "Shit, Apoc's been downright discreet about whatever that was. Though apparently that's over now? I want to sit him down for some more questions about the situation, since it doesn't seem like Perilune is inclined to share," Bast says. "If you draw up the questions I'll be happy to pose the same ones to Peri. But we'd better do this one-on-one. Or at least with the two of them on opposite ends of the ship." Linnet looks around for either sylph, not seeing them involved in the snowball battle royale or general merrymaking. Apocynthion Lunakrei Tolvani, the Third, crosses his legs and claps his hands together in his lap, a casual smile on his face despite the fact that Isa is also in the engine room with he, Yves, and the captain. "I'll answer everything you ask, as I said before." Perilune sets her jaw on the other side of the prep table in the ship's kitchen, tonight's dinner sizzling across the room. "I don't have anything to hide, after all," she says to Linnet and Orrey. "Oh, good," Yves says, "I figured as much! So, really, what is it that you're trying to do with all these, uh, fallen stars?" Bast leans back in his chair, looking moderately at ease. "Well, I promised you a hearing, and this mission is as good as done. Won't hold it against you if not, but can you tell me more about the Lumin? Seems like something I'll need to know sooner or later, and you're a more reliable source than Perilune in my book." "We're not anticipating anyone with anything to hide; we just figured we could all stand to get some things out in the open without immediate face-to-face argument potential. Hence, the closed door and the background noise of dinner prep." Linnet's not actually facing Perilune; she's busy at a chopping board. "Here, if you want to feel like you're busy with something besides awkward conversations, you can peel some potatoes." Linnet winks and nudges a pile of future side dishes onto the table. "Save 'em," Apoc says easily. "I mean, to do that, we have to find out why they're stars now, and what happened to put them there. But to do that, I need to find more -- any -- and ask them. And so far, asking them hasn't been easy." "I need to return them to Master Roche," Perilune says to Linnet. "The Guardian Forces are in trouble, and Master Roche is the best person to help them. Before they hurt anyone, I need to gather them up and take them back to him." "Explain it like I've lived in the woods my entire life?" Bast smiles. "Save them from what? And what or where were they, before this?" Orrey, sitting at the table nearby, grabs another peeler and helps out. "What are the Guardian Forces supposed to be Guarding?" "You know, I can answer both of those at once," Apoc says. "The Guardian Forces are..." Perilune tries to illustrate with hand gestures. "Cosmic beings beyond your reckoning. Elemental creatures, concepts given some sort of... terrestrial form." "They leave a striking shadow," Apoc says, "but villains they are not. From your stories, you've met more than a few. Yves, I believe, you have a few of their masks. Golem, Carbuncle, Diabolos, Cerberus..." "The little mask we saw together on our first day meeting?" Perilune says to Linnet, a little smile crossing her face at the memory. "That's one of the Guardian Forces." "Before they were masks, they were a great deal like you and I," Apoc says, before amending his statement to add, "except a lot grander, to be honest. But they were tricked." "They chose to sacrifice themselves to save everyone, and to protect everyone," Perilune says with conviction. "What's the source of the animosity between the two of you?" Orrey asks, dropping the potato into the pot of water nearby. "So how does this connect to... what the Great Crystal was doing, enforcing Jobs, based on... the stars? The masks? What they were before they were either of those things?" Yves is taking notes briskly. "They became the Great Crystal," Apoc and Perilune both say. "That's quite a trick. How does something like that happen?" "Some of this, you're just going to have to trust me," Perilune says. "I know it may sound a little strange, but I promise you I'm telling you what I know to be the truth." "Yeah, I get the impression they weren't in favor of the crystal... thing," Yves mutters, adding a tiny sketch to the corner of his notes. "Or that they were in favor of what they thought it was going to be, and not how it turned out." "All life on the planet comes from the Crystal at its core," Apoc says, forming a circle with his hands and then sketching a very tiny circle in the middle. "Everything you know about how the world works comes from that. The crystal that makes you you is from there, in essence." "I'm not asking for anything more than you know," Linnet reassures Peri. "Just a little more than I've got right now, and we're already well on our way there." "The Crystal was dying," Perilune says gravely. "None of the gods knew what, or how, or why. They knew something had to be done." "So they find the people with the greatest power. See, there aren't many Guardian Forces around; I think maybe two hundred at their peak? Hundred and fifty? It's really hard to track down who they were, for reasons that will become clear shortly," Apoc grumbles. "So these timeless and immortal beings agree to use their power to save this planet from dying." "The gods, with their divine power, take the essence of the Guardian Forces and create it into a new Great Crystal, and use it to power the planet so the life on it doesn't... go out," Perilune says. "They sacrificed themselves to ensure that no one else would die instead." "And X number of years later, someone gets angry, progresses the narrative to the exciting part, and breaks the Crystal," Apoc says with a shrug. "And since we're all still alive, well, tells you someone wasn't exactly telling the truth." "...that no one would die? That sounds...problematic. I mean, were they going for worldwide immortality, or just nobody dying of that specific crisis right then?" "We don't have much time left," Perilune says. "With the Great Crystal destroyed, the bonds that held the Guardian Forces together are weakening, and Master Roche worries that the planet will start to decay." "It wasn't exactly immortality anyone was going for, mind," Apoc says. "Mostly the idea that any life could continue." "Not specific life," Perilune confirms. "A global extinction." "So they're angry," Apoc says. "And the people who put them in that Crystal -- all of you, specifically -- are going to pay for it. And since that's not exactly fair, I aim to intervene." "So they're scared," Perilune says. "And without the people who put them in that Crystal -- Alterna, specifically -- they're lashing out. I want to stop that." "As for her..." Apoc growls. "Kinda picked up on the 'angry' part with the dragon trying to eat our faces," Yves says under his breath. "He betrayed Master Roche," Perilune says, fury bubbling up inside of her. "He decided that he thinks he knows what's best for everyone -- you, me, the world -- and so, everyone else be damned, he's going to run around with all of the answers, tell as few people about it as possible, and force the world to work the way he wants. He's -- he's a traitor to all the Lumin." "So neither of us have told you we're not technically from Ducorde, I don't think," Apoc says a touch sheepishly. "So you and Apoc and Master Roche...you're Lumin yourselves?" (Linnet's question is very quiet, neutral in tone, and directed at the bunch of green onions on her chopping board.) "Not exactly, no. Want to tell us more about that?" "Orrey, would you poke that skillet and make sure the meat doesn't burn, please?" Orrey looks down at the skillet dubiously. "With my fingers?" "With a spatula. Or a spoon. Or even a potato. Poke the meat, not the skillet. Sorry, should've been clearer." Orrey grins. "Kidding." He grabs a spatula and jabs at the meat. Linnet pokes Orrey with a potato and goes back to work. "Short version -- we're from above the sky. We live -- lived, in hers and my case, present-tense in Master Roche, for the time being -- in cities that circle the planet. I came down in a ship about a year after she did," Apoc says, "and we've never really gotten on well together, in case that wasn't blisteringly obvious." "The Lumin have long watched over Ducorde from above, Master Roche told us," Perilune says. "Told us both. Apoc apparently doesn't think any of that is important anymore, and abandoned everything he was taught and believed in order to -- to -- I don't even know why." Bast returns a slow blink at that. "Floating cities. How..." "I wish I could show you," Perilune says, "but Master Roche would never allow it." Orrey's eyes widen. "People...live...up there...? What are they like? How big are the cities? Have they ever had contact with the ground before? Did WE come from up there or did they come from down here or something else entirely?!" "Is it magitech?" Yves asks. "Wait, no, that's beside the point, I'll ask you later. How far up? Can we get there in this ship? Though that might be unwise. That's a question for later, too. Though... if the stars are falling, are they only falling HERE and not on those cities nearer to them? And if so... do you know why?" "Would that I could give you the grand tour, Yves, you'd love every second of it. Unfortunately, due to my own little Act III moment, I am most assuredly not allowed to return," Apoc says. "Orrey, tourism later, saving the world now." But Linnet's grinning. "So Master Roche is...in charge up there? And did I hear correctly that he's your dad? But not a particularly close relationship if you still call him Master? Sorry, feel free to shut me up if this is getting too personal." "It's -- it's Master Roche when he's working, that's all. It's a matter of professionalism," Perilune says. Linnet collects the peeled potatoes from Perilune's prep station and, shortly after, hands Orrey a pot of potatoes to mash. "Of course they're close. She's his -- his fucking assassin, and I beg no pardons for the language this time," Apoc says, his temperature rising. Orrey has definitely helped out once or twice with this exact task, and mashes with gusto. "Oh, that I get. Twelve help us if my brother or I ever called our dad anything but 'Doctor Leveche' within earshot of any of his colleagues." Linnet rolls her eyes in sympathy. "It's a doctorate of comparative religious studies, let a bit of the starch out of your robe, Dad." "Does she know she's his assassin?" Yves asks. "I mean, is she lying, in denial, or just.... deceived, like those before?" "But anyway. Is Apoc any relation to you beyond a perpetual burr under your chocobo saddle?" "And what's his...plan, I suppose?" "She's either complicit or just dim," Apoc says, "and neither one reflects well on her in the least. Roche wants to bring the Guardian Forces back up and use them to recreate the Great Crystal, because it was with that damned Crystal that everyone's lives here were predetermined, and what sort of life is that?" "An orderly one," Isa finally says. "Suppose I'd still be farming mushrooms," Yves says. "Yeah." Bast doesn't bother hiding a grimace. "Apoc doesn't believe what we are doing is right," Perilune says. "He doesn't want to save any of the Guardian Forces. He's trying to stop me, no matter if they're going to hurt people here, or themselves, or anyone else. I don't know if he's trying to gather them himself for some dark purpose, but..." "But she killed one," Apoc says, shaking. "But he let one die," Perilune says, shaken. Linnet whistles, the sort of whistle that replaces the desire to swear when you're in polite company. "How do they die?" "Killed like... not even leaving a mask, killed?" "...was this one you'd met?" "If the mask breaks, they... die," Perilune says. "There's no rescuing them without that. The mask is a sort of focus for the GFs here, a form they take outside of the Crystal. If that is completely destroyed, they die." Yves clutches the satchel at his side protectively. "She claimed she was trying to seal it," Apoc says. "But you've never seen anyone fight so hard to keep using a power that was so clearly not doing what she said. Twisting that creature all out of its own shape, right up until--" "--he interfered, fighting me instead of helping me. He stabbed me, through the stomach, and... and then he just watched it... implode on itself. No mask. No hope. Just nothing." Perilune drifts into silence. Linnet sets the knife down very carefully. Orrey breathes out and continues mashing more sedately. "I got through, but it was far too late. I had to just watch that creature be murdered, and know that it was by our design. That was what Roche wanted. Capture or kill." Apoc stares at the wall. "Well, I can certainly understand your desire not to remain in an enclosed space with that asshole." Bast gives a slow nod at that, and pauses briefly before speaking. "What is your goal for them?" "Save them," Perilune says. "Find them, bring them back to Master Roche so he can heal them and help them." "Save them," Apoc says. "Find them, restore them to whoever they were before they were put in the Crystal. Put them back the way they were supposed to be." Linnet takes a seat at the table, takes the potato peeler from Perilune, and takes the other sylph's starch-sticky hands in her own. "If Master Roche wasn't part of the equation, Peri, what would you want to do with the Guardian Forces? You, personally, Perilune Roche as her own agent. What do you think needs to happen to restore them to however they're supposed to be and stop them attacking you and anyone around you?" "Master Roche's plan is the best one. It's the only thing that makes sense. It's the truth, and it's what I can do to help this world," Perilune says, shining with conviction. "Next original thought she has will be her first," Apoc snipes. "Well, Linnet's not going to like this," Yves says to himself. "So, why us?" Isa asks, her first actual question. "...give it some thought, though? I mean, until I meet Master Roche, there's an opinion I'm a lot more interested in than his." Linnet squeezes Perilune's hands and tries for a reassuring smile. "And I'm pretty sure that'll hold true well after I meet Master Roche, if we can make that happen." She winks. "You called her Starscourge, I think. Where'd that name come from?" Perilune smiles. "From the moment I met all of you, I knew you were different. You took me seriously, you cared, you were interested... and you calmed the Guardian Force. It didn't want to actually fight us; I could tell that from how it moved. But when your captain -- Bast -- he did something, and I could feel the Guardian Force just... almost deflate, and it responded to him, and I thought that there must be something special about all of you, together, in that place. At that time." She turns a careful, shy smile on Linnet. "With me." "Seemed like fun at the time, to be perfectly honest with you," Apoc says jovially. "Until I'd jump ship some weeks later when I found more information. Acting's a delight, I've made fast friends fairly quickly, and some of the most brilliant minds I've had occasion to meet." Yves gets a nod. "But more than anything else, I think, it's the ship. For one, you've got a Guardian Force powering this whole thing, as Linnet found out." "Oh, good, maybe you can help me talk to it. I admit I was kind of too freaked out to make much headway." Bast glances over at Yves, eyebrow raised, before looking back at Apoc. "I will try," Perilune says. "Never let her touch anything in here ever again," Apoc warns. "I thought we told you about that," Yves says to Bast. "Didn't we tell you about that? Spirit of an angry god that was deceived into this position powering the engine? Still angry at the ancient civilization that got her there? I might not have called it a Guardian Force at the time, not knowing the term..." "Oh, to answer another question of yours, Linnet -- Apoc and I are not related. We're classmates. Former classmates," Perilune confirms. "Oh, good, then I promise to cut off the Comedy of Errors jokes the next time Rahel and I start them. Thank you for clarifying." "That's the part we didn't know before, yes. I think I'll need to ask you to move up alternative engine arrangements on your list." He shakes his head briefly, then looks up at Apoc: "So...what is the plan to undo what the gods, Alterna and who knows who else wrought?" (The green onions go into the mashed potatoes, the meat in the pan gets about seven different seasonings, some of the meat drippings get strained off into a pan with some cream and become gravy. Linnet's not one for idle awkward conversations when she could be doing something else. Perilune is now slicing peaches for a dessert cobbler. Occasionally, those peaches end up in minute dissected bits when the discussion gets heated, but texture variation in dessert is rarely a bad idea.) "I don't have a full plan," Apoc admits. "I'm one person trying to fight this. I'm looking for anyone who would know, and I've got one name as a lead, but no real luck determining what that name means." "'Alexander,' he said, before I blacked out," Perilune says, rubbing her side at the memory. "I don't know who that is." "Well, maybe we can come up with something to power this whole ship of largely unknown function, technology, and nature through doing something with bluespirit, and, I don't know, magic, seems straightforward enough," says Yves with far more optimism than warranted. "The name's come up before, but not in any actionable context. I'll see what we can do with it, though," Linnet says. Bast asks, "Do you know anything about a 'Machine City', by chance?" "That's where Alexander is supposed to be, is my understanding," Apoc says. "Which Guardian Force died?" Orrey asks quietly. "A dragon of the sea," Perilune says quietly. "I still carry her name with me everywhere I go." She rolls her sleeve up, where a name is tattooed on her ivory skin. "Syldra," Apoc says, his tone hollow. "Heartbreaking." "I cannot travel with him," Perilune says, her voice wavering. "I cannot be on the same ship as him." "I don't keep company with murderers, Captain," Apoc says. "Your ship, your rules, and I'll abide by them. If she stays, I ask you take me to the Triad." "I can find another ship in the Triad, I know that," Perilune says. "I want to travel with you, but... not if his company is the cost." "I understand. I have more questions, but I understand and I accept your position on the matter." Perilune smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Linnet." "No matter what happens, Captain, it's been a pleasure," Apoc says. "Fine ship." "Can you stand to eat dinner on the same ship as him for at least one more night? If we wait to serve until I'm done arguing with Bast, the meat's going to be cold." "Not one to force an overnight flight, Captain," Apoc says. "One more night won't kill anyone," Perilune says, hoping that's not an ominous turn of phrase. "Okay. Let's get that peach cobbler in the oven and get everyone together for the main course. Hopefully we'll all be slightly more amenable to debate on a full stomach. ...and Peri, thanks for talking this out with me. I appreciate your trusting me to listen." Linnet's smile is shy, but it lights up the galley. "Our next destination was going to be Mechon, to look for more clues on the Machine City, and we've already pacified several of the Forces and look to finding more. With more or less the same idea as you, seems to me. That wouldn't be worth staying, if she stays?" This seems a point of curiosity to Bast, with no apparent judgment coming through in his tone. "Seems to me it'd be easier to keep an eye on her here." "I don't trust Master Roche, and I don't trust her. Especially with any of the Guardian Forces at stake," Apoc says flatly. Bast nods, not making whether in agreement or acknowledgement particularly clear. "Very well. I think we have some local louts to host shortly, but I'll talk this over with the officers. Thank you for talking this out before someone wound up overboard." He's not looking at Isa, but the faintest hint of a smile seems to have a point on it.
"Unfortunately, an unidentified third party was undertaking their own operation at the shipyard, one of a significantly more destructive nature. While the shipyard team was able to achieve its major goals, due to this unpredictable interference the damage to the shipyard was more than intended and may represent a potential serious threat to national military readiness. However, the resulting confusion from the intersecting operations makes it a near complete certainty that no positive identification of the team members could be made. "The shipyard team was able to extract a significant portion of the bluespirit supply from the depot; approximately eighteen zentner. Our engineering team intends to hold back ten percent of this for research purposes, but the remainder will need to be disposed in a manner that will not draw attention to our involvement." She does not sit back down after completing her statement. Count Osler inspects Isa's face from across the table, and then without moving any visible muscles, sweeps the full force of her attention across the rest of the group, one at a time, looking for any weaknesses. Linnet bears the brunt of this social pressure. Orrey smiles pleasantly. Bast's face might as well be a mask. Linnet's face is a delicate balance of bland politeness, weary resignation, a near-complete absence of fucks, and the repressed desire to scream bloody murder at the entire assembly. Yves is still full of warm fuzzy feelings from rediscovering his grandmother, who is clearly very good at her job. "What do you know of this third party?" Count Osler requests. (Linnet does not actually move to clap a hand across Yves' mouth, but she thinks it very hard at him.) Isa doesn't hesitate when presented with a bus. "Their plan of attack, detailed in the written report, and a name for the agent we encountered. Cosmog Palantiot. She may be a mercenary." "You are a mercenary." The Count does not let her opinion of this fact reflect in her voice or manner. "Do you think she was acting alone, or on another's orders?" Bast looks like he might object to this classification of one of his officers, but holds back. Orrey glances at Linnet and asks quietly, "I thought we were bounty hunters?" Isa doesn't seem troubled by it. "The scale suggests she was working with others, but there's no evidence that we saw either way. We didn't converse." Yves, who is generally at least vaguely aware that his grandmother's perfectly reasonable job sometimes upsets people who don't quite understand these things, remains pleasantly, amiably quiet. Linnet pats Orrey's hand and whispers "Later" without turning her eyes away from the Count. "The level of destruction indicated would point to this being done by non-Cardian interests," the Count says rather confidently. "External threats are always easier to address, after all." Isa nods. "Of course. The intended level of destruction would have been catastrophic. Possibly rendering Jozech a complete loss, rather than a lengthy and expensive reclamation effort." A noncommittal noise emerges from the Count. "We will investigate." After a moment's thoughtful silence, she says, "Are there any other items you wish to cover here that are not in the report?" Isa considers. "Only if you have some insight on the disposition of surplus bluespirit. It is far more than is needed, or wanted, aboard Starfall. Putting it on the open market is of course out of the question, but operating expenses are an unfortunate reality of airships." "Much of reality is unfortunate. I will see to it," is the smooth reply. Isa nods. "In that case there is nothing further to report, your Grace." She inclines her head slightly to the standing Isa, somehow conveying that everyone else should also be standing without any further motion on her part. "Your service to Cardia is duly noted, and I am sure Albarea will be dealing with the repercussions of this third party's actions for some time to follow. I bid you all safe travels." "Thank you. I look forward to hearing news of Highwind soon; uncle Kjier and I still have things to discuss." Isa bows from the shoulders, and makes to take her leave. "I expect to see you for Myrta's birthday. Starfall." The second sentence was just an acknowledgement of everyone's departure, but linking those two thoughts together is not something that happens by accident. "A pleasure, your Grace." Bast's smile on his way out is nothing resembling formal. Orrey just smiles and gives a small wave and follows Isa out. Yves bobs a nod that's sort of vaguely in the direction of where a bow would go if he knew how to do a bow, which he does not, but it's the thought that counts, right? Linnet bows, not the full deep bow of an underling but deeper than one would to an equal, and follows the party out before the Count can hear her teeth grinding. A short time later, five chocobos are riding back to the field outside the village where Starfall is anchored. Isa pulls up next to Bast. "When we get back to the ship, you need to warn the crew that the Count's men are going to be arriving in order to take possession of the bluespirit. It's going to look like they're throwing their weight around. Tell them to let it happen." Orrey looks thoughtful, then approaches Isa and Bast. "Are we...did we get invited to a birthday party? For your sister?" Bast looks vaguely amused. "I'm sure our actors are up to the task. I have to ask - did you need any interrogation training, at the academy?" Isa chuckles, ruefully. "Top marks in composure," she admits. To Orrey, she nods. "Not for a while, but yes, I think you did." "Is there an instructional manual?" asks Yves warily, jouncing along on chocobo-back. "For interrogation training or for the birthday party?" Linnet mutters drily, having fallen slightly behind. Isa says "Oh, there will be classes," before goading her chocobo to a faster pace towards the ship. She leaves the answer to Linnet's question ominously unsaid. Bast mutters "...On The Proper Conduct Of Sibling Rivalry..." under his breath as he kicks his chocobo to follow suit. "I could write the non-examples for that one, Bast." Orrey sighs, thinking of his own sister. The Starfall looms ahead, though mostly because the ship's profile is much larger than the trees. The light snow has been heavily trodden down with chocobo tracks, and some of the actors are out and about, touching up paint jobs, having festive snowball fights because why not, working on lines and melodies, and generally being merry. Notably not merry, those in the front notice, is Rahel, the ship's chief representative to non-Cardians, who is flustered and frustrated and surly, muttering under her breath as she paces in the snow. Linnet can't let her best friend stay beflustricated, of course. "Okay, Fussbudget, off you pop," she tells her chocobo as she hops off and smacks it lightly on the rump. "Rahel? What's going on? Did Apoc say something stupid? Do I need to go yell at him? Because I am mightily in the mood to go yell at someone and I'm not real picky about my targets right now." "Hey, Apoc's not--" Yves thinks better of finishing that sentence, and just slides off his chocobo, somewhat less incompetently now that he's had some practice. "If I try to belt him with a snowball I'm very likely to hit someone else instead, but depending on who's in the way that might not be a bad idea..." "You could, but it wouldn't help. He is really picky about his target right now, and unfortunately, so is she." The leading actress of the Theater of the Untranslatable lets out a few phrases that don't need to be translated. "All they have to do is even hear about the other being around and it's 'she has to go,' 'he has to go,' it's exhausting. The drama." Bast claps his hands for attention. "Alright, everyone! We're going to have some humorless locals coming by shortly to take most of our recent cargo. Treat them like a stage manager you don't like - hold your noses and play along, save the comments for after." Apparently done, he hops down from his chocobo and approaches Rahel to see what's going on. "I thought we liked drama?" Orrey half asks, wryly. "So like Jasper, then!" comes a shout from someone, then a lot of laughter. The message is clearly received, though, and the actors scatter to make things look more respectable, having heard about the Oslers from at least one person on crew. "Jasper, don't take it personally, the captain's learning. Crew, think of it more like a director you can't stand." Based on the change in facial expressions, this is much easier to imagine. "We like drama that's at least one step removed from us personally, Orrey," Rahel says with absolutely no shame. Bast looks at Linnet. "Do you have a better idea than what all the rest of us heard about where those two are from and what their deal is?" Orrey nods at Rahel. "That makes a lot of sense." Again, thinking of Cassiat. "No more concrete information than the rest of you; I try not to bring it up with Peri, that just doesn't end well and unruffling feathers is really not my favorite hobby. But at least a few of us have siblings and are used to not getting along with them, so I think we're all visualizing it in a slightly more extreme version of that context. And there's only so far you can dance around the subject on a crowded ship with such a, um, well, flamboyant personality as Apoc involved." "Wrong kind of dancing," Yves says, with a sigh. "Tell me before I waltz out of your life / before turning my back on the past
Forgive my impertinent behavior, but how long do you think this pantomime can last?" "Shit, Apoc's been downright discreet about whatever that was. Though apparently that's over now? I want to sit him down for some more questions about the situation, since it doesn't seem like Perilune is inclined to share," Bast says. "If you draw up the questions I'll be happy to pose the same ones to Peri. But we'd better do this one-on-one. Or at least with the two of them on opposite ends of the ship." Linnet looks around for either sylph, not seeing them involved in the snowball battle royale or general merrymaking. Apocynthion Lunakrei Tolvani, the Third, crosses his legs and claps his hands together in his lap, a casual smile on his face despite the fact that Isa is also in the engine room with he, Yves, and the captain. "I'll answer everything you ask, as I said before." Perilune sets her jaw on the other side of the prep table in the ship's kitchen, tonight's dinner sizzling across the room. "I don't have anything to hide, after all," she says to Linnet and Orrey. "Oh, good," Yves says, "I figured as much! So, really, what is it that you're trying to do with all these, uh, fallen stars?" Bast leans back in his chair, looking moderately at ease. "Well, I promised you a hearing, and this mission is as good as done. Won't hold it against you if not, but can you tell me more about the Lumin? Seems like something I'll need to know sooner or later, and you're a more reliable source than Perilune in my book." "We're not anticipating anyone with anything to hide; we just figured we could all stand to get some things out in the open without immediate face-to-face argument potential. Hence, the closed door and the background noise of dinner prep." Linnet's not actually facing Perilune; she's busy at a chopping board. "Here, if you want to feel like you're busy with something besides awkward conversations, you can peel some potatoes." Linnet winks and nudges a pile of future side dishes onto the table. "Save 'em," Apoc says easily. "I mean, to do that, we have to find out why they're stars now, and what happened to put them there. But to do that, I need to find more -- any -- and ask them. And so far, asking them hasn't been easy." "I need to return them to Master Roche," Perilune says to Linnet. "The Guardian Forces are in trouble, and Master Roche is the best person to help them. Before they hurt anyone, I need to gather them up and take them back to him." "Explain it like I've lived in the woods my entire life?" Bast smiles. "Save them from what? And what or where were they, before this?" Orrey, sitting at the table nearby, grabs another peeler and helps out. "What are the Guardian Forces supposed to be Guarding?" "You know, I can answer both of those at once," Apoc says. "The Guardian Forces are..." Perilune tries to illustrate with hand gestures. "Cosmic beings beyond your reckoning. Elemental creatures, concepts given some sort of... terrestrial form." "They leave a striking shadow," Apoc says, "but villains they are not. From your stories, you've met more than a few. Yves, I believe, you have a few of their masks. Golem, Carbuncle, Diabolos, Cerberus..." "The little mask we saw together on our first day meeting?" Perilune says to Linnet, a little smile crossing her face at the memory. "That's one of the Guardian Forces." "Before they were masks, they were a great deal like you and I," Apoc says, before amending his statement to add, "except a lot grander, to be honest. But they were tricked." "They chose to sacrifice themselves to save everyone, and to protect everyone," Perilune says with conviction. "What's the source of the animosity between the two of you?" Orrey asks, dropping the potato into the pot of water nearby. "So how does this connect to... what the Great Crystal was doing, enforcing Jobs, based on... the stars? The masks? What they were before they were either of those things?" Yves is taking notes briskly. "They became the Great Crystal," Apoc and Perilune both say. "That's quite a trick. How does something like that happen?" "Some of this, you're just going to have to trust me," Perilune says. "I know it may sound a little strange, but I promise you I'm telling you what I know to be the truth." "Yeah, I get the impression they weren't in favor of the crystal... thing," Yves mutters, adding a tiny sketch to the corner of his notes. "Or that they were in favor of what they thought it was going to be, and not how it turned out." "All life on the planet comes from the Crystal at its core," Apoc says, forming a circle with his hands and then sketching a very tiny circle in the middle. "Everything you know about how the world works comes from that. The crystal that makes you you is from there, in essence." "I'm not asking for anything more than you know," Linnet reassures Peri. "Just a little more than I've got right now, and we're already well on our way there." "The Crystal was dying," Perilune says gravely. "None of the gods knew what, or how, or why. They knew something had to be done." "So they find the people with the greatest power. See, there aren't many Guardian Forces around; I think maybe two hundred at their peak? Hundred and fifty? It's really hard to track down who they were, for reasons that will become clear shortly," Apoc grumbles. "So these timeless and immortal beings agree to use their power to save this planet from dying." "The gods, with their divine power, take the essence of the Guardian Forces and create it into a new Great Crystal, and use it to power the planet so the life on it doesn't... go out," Perilune says. "They sacrificed themselves to ensure that no one else would die instead." "And X number of years later, someone gets angry, progresses the narrative to the exciting part, and breaks the Crystal," Apoc says with a shrug. "And since we're all still alive, well, tells you someone wasn't exactly telling the truth." "...that no one would die? That sounds...problematic. I mean, were they going for worldwide immortality, or just nobody dying of that specific crisis right then?" "We don't have much time left," Perilune says. "With the Great Crystal destroyed, the bonds that held the Guardian Forces together are weakening, and Master Roche worries that the planet will start to decay." "It wasn't exactly immortality anyone was going for, mind," Apoc says. "Mostly the idea that any life could continue." "Not specific life," Perilune confirms. "A global extinction." "So they're angry," Apoc says. "And the people who put them in that Crystal -- all of you, specifically -- are going to pay for it. And since that's not exactly fair, I aim to intervene." "So they're scared," Perilune says. "And without the people who put them in that Crystal -- Alterna, specifically -- they're lashing out. I want to stop that." "As for her..." Apoc growls. "Kinda picked up on the 'angry' part with the dragon trying to eat our faces," Yves says under his breath. "He betrayed Master Roche," Perilune says, fury bubbling up inside of her. "He decided that he thinks he knows what's best for everyone -- you, me, the world -- and so, everyone else be damned, he's going to run around with all of the answers, tell as few people about it as possible, and force the world to work the way he wants. He's -- he's a traitor to all the Lumin." "So neither of us have told you we're not technically from Ducorde, I don't think," Apoc says a touch sheepishly. "So you and Apoc and Master Roche...you're Lumin yourselves?" (Linnet's question is very quiet, neutral in tone, and directed at the bunch of green onions on her chopping board.) "Not exactly, no. Want to tell us more about that?" "Orrey, would you poke that skillet and make sure the meat doesn't burn, please?" Orrey looks down at the skillet dubiously. "With my fingers?" "With a spatula. Or a spoon. Or even a potato. Poke the meat, not the skillet. Sorry, should've been clearer." Orrey grins. "Kidding." He grabs a spatula and jabs at the meat. Linnet pokes Orrey with a potato and goes back to work. "Short version -- we're from above the sky. We live -- lived, in hers and my case, present-tense in Master Roche, for the time being -- in cities that circle the planet. I came down in a ship about a year after she did," Apoc says, "and we've never really gotten on well together, in case that wasn't blisteringly obvious." "The Lumin have long watched over Ducorde from above, Master Roche told us," Perilune says. "Told us both. Apoc apparently doesn't think any of that is important anymore, and abandoned everything he was taught and believed in order to -- to -- I don't even know why." Bast returns a slow blink at that. "Floating cities. How..." "I wish I could show you," Perilune says, "but Master Roche would never allow it." Orrey's eyes widen. "People...live...up there...? What are they like? How big are the cities? Have they ever had contact with the ground before? Did WE come from up there or did they come from down here or something else entirely?!" "Is it magitech?" Yves asks. "Wait, no, that's beside the point, I'll ask you later. How far up? Can we get there in this ship? Though that might be unwise. That's a question for later, too. Though... if the stars are falling, are they only falling HERE and not on those cities nearer to them? And if so... do you know why?" "Would that I could give you the grand tour, Yves, you'd love every second of it. Unfortunately, due to my own little Act III moment, I am most assuredly not allowed to return," Apoc says. "Orrey, tourism later, saving the world now." But Linnet's grinning. "So Master Roche is...in charge up there? And did I hear correctly that he's your dad? But not a particularly close relationship if you still call him Master? Sorry, feel free to shut me up if this is getting too personal." "It's -- it's Master Roche when he's working, that's all. It's a matter of professionalism," Perilune says. Linnet collects the peeled potatoes from Perilune's prep station and, shortly after, hands Orrey a pot of potatoes to mash. "Of course they're close. She's his -- his fucking assassin, and I beg no pardons for the language this time," Apoc says, his temperature rising. Orrey has definitely helped out once or twice with this exact task, and mashes with gusto. "Oh, that I get. Twelve help us if my brother or I ever called our dad anything but 'Doctor Leveche' within earshot of any of his colleagues." Linnet rolls her eyes in sympathy. "It's a doctorate of comparative religious studies, let a bit of the starch out of your robe, Dad." "Does she know she's his assassin?" Yves asks. "I mean, is she lying, in denial, or just.... deceived, like those before?" "But anyway. Is Apoc any relation to you beyond a perpetual burr under your chocobo saddle?" "And what's his...plan, I suppose?" "She's either complicit or just dim," Apoc says, "and neither one reflects well on her in the least. Roche wants to bring the Guardian Forces back up and use them to recreate the Great Crystal, because it was with that damned Crystal that everyone's lives here were predetermined, and what sort of life is that?" "An orderly one," Isa finally says. "Suppose I'd still be farming mushrooms," Yves says. "Yeah." Bast doesn't bother hiding a grimace. "Apoc doesn't believe what we are doing is right," Perilune says. "He doesn't want to save any of the Guardian Forces. He's trying to stop me, no matter if they're going to hurt people here, or themselves, or anyone else. I don't know if he's trying to gather them himself for some dark purpose, but..." "But she killed one," Apoc says, shaking. "But he let one die," Perilune says, shaken. Linnet whistles, the sort of whistle that replaces the desire to swear when you're in polite company. "How do they die?" "Killed like... not even leaving a mask, killed?" "...was this one you'd met?" "If the mask breaks, they... die," Perilune says. "There's no rescuing them without that. The mask is a sort of focus for the GFs here, a form they take outside of the Crystal. If that is completely destroyed, they die." Yves clutches the satchel at his side protectively. "She claimed she was trying to seal it," Apoc says. "But you've never seen anyone fight so hard to keep using a power that was so clearly not doing what she said. Twisting that creature all out of its own shape, right up until--" "--he interfered, fighting me instead of helping me. He stabbed me, through the stomach, and... and then he just watched it... implode on itself. No mask. No hope. Just nothing." Perilune drifts into silence. Linnet sets the knife down very carefully. Orrey breathes out and continues mashing more sedately. "I got through, but it was far too late. I had to just watch that creature be murdered, and know that it was by our design. That was what Roche wanted. Capture or kill." Apoc stares at the wall. "Well, I can certainly understand your desire not to remain in an enclosed space with that asshole." Bast gives a slow nod at that, and pauses briefly before speaking. "What is your goal for them?" "Save them," Perilune says. "Find them, bring them back to Master Roche so he can heal them and help them." "Save them," Apoc says. "Find them, restore them to whoever they were before they were put in the Crystal. Put them back the way they were supposed to be." Linnet takes a seat at the table, takes the potato peeler from Perilune, and takes the other sylph's starch-sticky hands in her own. "If Master Roche wasn't part of the equation, Peri, what would you want to do with the Guardian Forces? You, personally, Perilune Roche as her own agent. What do you think needs to happen to restore them to however they're supposed to be and stop them attacking you and anyone around you?" "Master Roche's plan is the best one. It's the only thing that makes sense. It's the truth, and it's what I can do to help this world," Perilune says, shining with conviction. "Next original thought she has will be her first," Apoc snipes. "Well, Linnet's not going to like this," Yves says to himself. "So, why us?" Isa asks, her first actual question. "...give it some thought, though? I mean, until I meet Master Roche, there's an opinion I'm a lot more interested in than his." Linnet squeezes Perilune's hands and tries for a reassuring smile. "And I'm pretty sure that'll hold true well after I meet Master Roche, if we can make that happen." She winks. "You called her Starscourge, I think. Where'd that name come from?" Perilune smiles. "From the moment I met all of you, I knew you were different. You took me seriously, you cared, you were interested... and you calmed the Guardian Force. It didn't want to actually fight us; I could tell that from how it moved. But when your captain -- Bast -- he did something, and I could feel the Guardian Force just... almost deflate, and it responded to him, and I thought that there must be something special about all of you, together, in that place. At that time." She turns a careful, shy smile on Linnet. "With me." "Seemed like fun at the time, to be perfectly honest with you," Apoc says jovially. "Until I'd jump ship some weeks later when I found more information. Acting's a delight, I've made fast friends fairly quickly, and some of the most brilliant minds I've had occasion to meet." Yves gets a nod. "But more than anything else, I think, it's the ship. For one, you've got a Guardian Force powering this whole thing, as Linnet found out." "Oh, good, maybe you can help me talk to it. I admit I was kind of too freaked out to make much headway." Bast glances over at Yves, eyebrow raised, before looking back at Apoc. "I will try," Perilune says. "Never let her touch anything in here ever again," Apoc warns. "I thought we told you about that," Yves says to Bast. "Didn't we tell you about that? Spirit of an angry god that was deceived into this position powering the engine? Still angry at the ancient civilization that got her there? I might not have called it a Guardian Force at the time, not knowing the term..." "Oh, to answer another question of yours, Linnet -- Apoc and I are not related. We're classmates. Former classmates," Perilune confirms. "Oh, good, then I promise to cut off the Comedy of Errors jokes the next time Rahel and I start them. Thank you for clarifying." "That's the part we didn't know before, yes. I think I'll need to ask you to move up alternative engine arrangements on your list." He shakes his head briefly, then looks up at Apoc: "So...what is the plan to undo what the gods, Alterna and who knows who else wrought?" (The green onions go into the mashed potatoes, the meat in the pan gets about seven different seasonings, some of the meat drippings get strained off into a pan with some cream and become gravy. Linnet's not one for idle awkward conversations when she could be doing something else. Perilune is now slicing peaches for a dessert cobbler. Occasionally, those peaches end up in minute dissected bits when the discussion gets heated, but texture variation in dessert is rarely a bad idea.) "I don't have a full plan," Apoc admits. "I'm one person trying to fight this. I'm looking for anyone who would know, and I've got one name as a lead, but no real luck determining what that name means." "'Alexander,' he said, before I blacked out," Perilune says, rubbing her side at the memory. "I don't know who that is." "Well, maybe we can come up with something to power this whole ship of largely unknown function, technology, and nature through doing something with bluespirit, and, I don't know, magic, seems straightforward enough," says Yves with far more optimism than warranted. "The name's come up before, but not in any actionable context. I'll see what we can do with it, though," Linnet says. Bast asks, "Do you know anything about a 'Machine City', by chance?" "That's where Alexander is supposed to be, is my understanding," Apoc says. "Which Guardian Force died?" Orrey asks quietly. "A dragon of the sea," Perilune says quietly. "I still carry her name with me everywhere I go." She rolls her sleeve up, where a name is tattooed on her ivory skin. "Syldra," Apoc says, his tone hollow. "Heartbreaking." "I cannot travel with him," Perilune says, her voice wavering. "I cannot be on the same ship as him." "I don't keep company with murderers, Captain," Apoc says. "Your ship, your rules, and I'll abide by them. If she stays, I ask you take me to the Triad." "I can find another ship in the Triad, I know that," Perilune says. "I want to travel with you, but... not if his company is the cost." "I understand. I have more questions, but I understand and I accept your position on the matter." Perilune smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Linnet." "No matter what happens, Captain, it's been a pleasure," Apoc says. "Fine ship." "Can you stand to eat dinner on the same ship as him for at least one more night? If we wait to serve until I'm done arguing with Bast, the meat's going to be cold." "Not one to force an overnight flight, Captain," Apoc says. "One more night won't kill anyone," Perilune says, hoping that's not an ominous turn of phrase. "Okay. Let's get that peach cobbler in the oven and get everyone together for the main course. Hopefully we'll all be slightly more amenable to debate on a full stomach. ...and Peri, thanks for talking this out with me. I appreciate your trusting me to listen." Linnet's smile is shy, but it lights up the galley. "Our next destination was going to be Mechon, to look for more clues on the Machine City, and we've already pacified several of the Forces and look to finding more. With more or less the same idea as you, seems to me. That wouldn't be worth staying, if she stays?" This seems a point of curiosity to Bast, with no apparent judgment coming through in his tone. "Seems to me it'd be easier to keep an eye on her here." "I don't trust Master Roche, and I don't trust her. Especially with any of the Guardian Forces at stake," Apoc says flatly. Bast nods, not making whether in agreement or acknowledgement particularly clear. "Very well. I think we have some local louts to host shortly, but I'll talk this over with the officers. Thank you for talking this out before someone wound up overboard." He's not looking at Isa, but the faintest hint of a smile seems to have a point on it.
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