Session 86: Ode to Bok Choy
Bast has tasked the Starfall with a challenge far beyond their usual strengths of "collect limited editions of dorks," "hit eldritch beings until they don't get up anymore," and "annoying Isa."
They are to break into the Seventh Dawn, the airship of the Rising Stars -- the other group traveling Ducorde with an eye to the stars in the sky -- retrieve the Frost Fair Blade, and then deliver it to a buyer in the Triad for...something, certainly.
With the information the Captain presented in the officer meeting, the team has started to put together the skeleton of a plan, using the reliability of the Seventh Dawn's flight path to their advantage.
They set about filling in the gaps of their knowledge first with Apoc, grilling the sailor third parties would call 'controversial' (each officer would choose a very different word, with no overlap between them) on the identities of the masks known to be in the Rising Stars' possession, and then more about the very angry god currently powering their ship.
The officers not present for this investigation, one by choice and one most assuredly not, spent their time working on Meteor as part of their daring heist, and trading in good old-fashioned gossip.
There are still days to go before the plan is put into action, meaning there is still plenty of time for this to actually become a plan.
To that end, the Starfall has traveled to Yinha to learn the lay of the land, identify any likely escape routes, and perhaps get a nice meal before it becomes a place they can never go again...
**
Machanon’s only western port, Yinha serves as the transportation and shipping hub for the other ten cities in the city-state, connecting hundreds of thousands of people with the outside world. The skies are full of airships arriving and departing, a sky of propellers and turbines above a sea of sails and smokestacks. Yinha is a port of transients but a city of constants, as the people managing the logistics network here are passionate to a fault, eager to talk travelers’ ears off about how one manages the delivery of seventy-two crates of blackberries to nine different cities (and why, precisely, Mechon has such distrust for blackberries) (it is never interesting). The vast farmland surrounding the city provides room for a healthy number of farms, with the farmers alternating the land’s purpose depending on the season, rotating crops to ensure the land is never stripped bare. Every day Yinha sees crops brought in from the outstretches for shipping and selling, and farmer’s markets are always available every day of the week. Yinha’s climate is comfortable year-round, and its boring, reliable weather makes it perfect for its role as the breadbox of a continent.
Every restaurant in the city will prepare their food to go, with equal care for plating regardless of if it is going to a table or to a box. In stark contrast to its incredible variety of ingredients, most restaurants in Yinha end up tasting basically the same, with emphasis on comfort food, starch, large portions, and food that reheats well. Fewer than 5% of Yinha’s restaurants discourage children.
Yinha holds Machanon’s only amusement park, Kupoten!!, renowned for its new roller coasters, merry-go-rounds, and lively stage shows. It is one of the most popular vacation destinations in the world, with many families making annual visits.
The aerodrome in Yinha dominates the port, a wide three-story building with four branching towers extending off northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast. Each tower has tiers of docks for arriving ships, starting with the largest ships at the bottom (the Starfall fits in this category) and then plenty of extra room for the smaller ships.
In total, Yinha can hold twenty large airships and eighty medium airships, with effectively unlimited room for smallest class. Docking fees are quite reasonable for the first 48 hours, but rise exponentially from there, to keep ships traveling in and out. The Starfall has received clearance for Docking Bay 3 on the northeast dock, the Oyungezer dock.
(Linnet is off in a corner making a very thorough grocery list. The crew will be eating very well for the next week or three.) "Look, Yves, it's really not that frightening," Isa says. "The harness is a tried and tested design and you're going to be on the deck, not hanging off a boom to the side."
"I just don't want you falling off mid-fireball if I have to dive." Marina is the only non-officer on the bridge (as the ship really doesn't work well without its pilot). The speaking tubes connecting the bridge to the rest of the ship are carrying Jasper's tinny words, running through the list of crew that are allowed to disembark, reminding everyone that this is not a trip for shore leave. Bast is hanging out at the rail, estimating holding spaces and escape trajectories for the Meteor. "I agree with the not falling off thing, it's just..." Yves stares dubiously into the air, imagining exactly how various things could go. "Wouldn't something a bit more magitech be more reliable? High-tech. Magical. Less... made of... ropes." The reliability of magitek gets a captainly snort, but no further comment. "The rope's just a backup," Isa says, definitely not sulkily. "It's mostly leather."
"Like... from an animal. An animal I've never met. Which someone else processed. To make... a rope. Which I should trust with my life. Just in case." Yves's gaze goes even more distant. "...so, okay, what if I improve the rope?"
Isa claps Yves on the shoulder. "Yves. I'm trusting you with my engines. Trust me with your security." (Linnet is fully aware that the farmer's markets are not the primary purpose of the trip, but she's not going to pass up the opportunity.)
"Right, Shula, while you and your chosen handful are out restocking our larder, please keep an ear to the ground. I don't know the city at all, so I'm trusting your judgment here. And for heaven's sake have Owen carry the heavy stuff, there's no need for you to be doing it. Got it?" The Starfall glides into place, and as those on the deck watch, four large cranes slide along thick metal bars, moving to the four corners of the ship. The tops of the cranes open into two round panels, each ten feet across. They emit a powerful baritone blast, then pulse into a low, constant hum, the air around the edges of the panels rippling with gravitational force. Yves swallows, then puts on a steadfast, confident, officer-like expression. "Of course, Isa." Marina lets the engines disengage, and the Starfall dips maybe three inches before the panels' hum strengthens, and then the Starfall rises back in place, docked securely. "Huh." Bast walks along the rail towards one of the cranes for a closer look. The shopping trip is briefly held up by Linnet having to explain what the heck half the vegetables on the list are. Some comical hand gestures don't exactly reassure any onlookers, but daikon are hard to describe in non-comical ways. Orrey is all business with his colored pencils currently, drawing everything around the docks in snippets here and there in his sketchbook. He also has a map forming on another couple pages with strange symbols everywhere. There is a great deal of debate on how one should spell "pawpaw fruit," with the majority siding with "I don't care if that's right, I'm not writing it down that way." Yves tilts his head further and further to one side, until an ear is dangling down and he's staring at the docking system bent at a nearly ninety-degree angle. "...oh that's interesting," he says. "That's really interesting. I think I would need a lot more instruments to do those sorts of calculations that precisely that fast. Interesting. I should experiment with Gravity more, though I suppose, since I can't really do it myself... Huh." Two of the less occupied actors are sent scurrying throughout the storage rooms for every unoccupied glass jar on the ship. Bast has hopped over the railing, holding on with one hand while leaning out uncomfortably close to the gravitational field, muttering something about "...how did they manage that coupling...". "Look, it doesn't matter how you spell it," Linnet explains, "half of the time it's not written down anyway, as long as you know what you're describing they'll have some idea. Orrey, come over here and see if you can put a sketch to any of these names, please, that ought to help..." With a deep sigh, Bast pulls back from the tech that he is not allowed to disassemble to find out how it works and hops the rail again to go check on the crew. "...and I would need to learn Rejuvenation, does anyone on the ship even know that?" Yves mutters to himself. "I need a better lab." Bast stops by where a slightly frazzled Linnet is directing the assembling shore party, and mutters "See what you can find out about enforcers around here? And how they handle the docks?" "Right! Yes! Thank you! Shula - what the captain just said." Linnet looks concerned. "Just...don't get in their way. And if you do get in their way, point Owen at them." Shula takes Linnet by the shoulders, looks her straight in the eyes, holds her attention, and then says, very kindly, "Calm the hell down. We'll be back in two hours."
"...yes'm," Linnet mutters. "Dammit, Yves, Bast, your befrazzlement is contagious." (It's really not; this is 95% pure Linnet.) Shula leads a procession off the ship, leaving the officers behind. Bast musses up his hair until it does a passable attempt at standing up, and gives Linnet his best mad magingeneer look. "I'm not befrazzled," Yves says, not bothering to stand up straight again yet either. "I'm besmitted. Uh. Besmitten. Enamored? Bescienced with admiration. That's it." Artemicion has come out onto the deck to take notes on the docking system. Apoc jogs down the ramp carrying a few sealed envelopes. Rahel follows after him, but breaks off quickly to go chat up anyone around here who looks like they might know what they're doing. "So, presumably we have a plan besides 'twiddle our thumbs and wait for them to get here'...feel like letting me in on it, Captain?" Somewhere, Linnet has picked up the habit of twisting the tips of her wings into her hair when she's ill at ease. They're very tangled right now. "For now, find out what we can to make our lives easier when the day comes. Isa, can you pick out a few good escape routes? And Yves..." Bast shields his eyes as he looks up at the docking structure. "...think you can find out how they respond to fires? Let's say you're a touch nervous about your cargo." Isa nods. "We'll be berthed above here; I can go see what the facilities look like amongst the lesser craft." "I can ask!" Yves stands up straight, gleeful for an instant. "I can be very nervous at people. It's easy to just... what did one of the actors call it? Inhabiting the character space, or something like that. I can do that pretty well with that one." "Should I start working with the decoy crew, then?" asks Linnet.
"Sounds good. And Orrey, can you find out where the Dawn usually docks? I've got some questions of my own to look into around town." "You get into your own head very well, Yves. Just don't get too magitek-y at them right away." Linnet winks and heads off to chase down certain prime suspects. Orrey salutes the captain and wanders off to find the Dawn’s berth. Isa fragments the party further, debarking to head up the tower to the small-ship docks. On her way out of the room, Linnet elbows Bast briefly and jerks her head toward the ship's pilot, tapping the side of her head in a gesture she hopes means 'information' and not 'she's a little nuts.' Yves sets his shoulders back. Then sort of lets them hunch in again and strides briskly toward a place where he can find someone official-looking, but not too important, to be extremely anxious about flammability and documented procedures at. Bast, apparently satisfied with where things are at, heads for the seediest tavern he can spot from way up here. Orrey wanders down the docks to the rowdiest drinking establishment he can find, and then goes to the next one because the first was WAY too loud even from outside. Finding a dapper Moogle in overalls and a bowler hat at a pool table by himself, practicing his break, Orrey smiles and offers to play.
The moogle introduces himself as Kupo Kupington, which is almost certainly his name, and proceeds to take Orrey's lunch for the next three weeks, which makes him quite chipper and talkative. It does not take Yves long to find someone who works for the port, corner them, and begin asking extremely anxious questions about the fire safety processes in the area. In detail, from several directions, rapid-fire, so that it's almost harder to keep up with his questions than to answer them. "--and my cousin's second husband said that his ex was once a ship that was three berths down from a ship that caught fire while next to a ship on the other side that was carrying bluespirit, and the explosion was bad enough, but the heat of the flames afterward stripped off the paint from the inside of the cabins in her ship. Three berths down from the fire! Four from the explosion! It turned out the port didn't carry any insurance, the admin disappeared in the middle of the night, so, right, what's the insurance situation like? But more importantly, fire suppression! Fire breaks? It needs to be broken and suppressed, for the sake of what's on fire right then, and not on fire yet. And what kind of fire suppression? Our insurance covers fire damage but not water damage. They were so specific about that. It costs extra. I'm pretty sure my blood pressure goes up every time we cross a stream. I didn't see any significant sprinklers around here. Is it water-based? Foam? Corrosive foam? Do the people assessing the fire actually check for whether it's an electrical fire, grease fire, chemical fire, wood fire, magic fire, or what before they--wait, you do have assessors, right? Who responds to fires? Where are they stationed? Do they take shifts? Are they supplied with coffee? You have a constant watch, right? Though of course I don't expect one person to put out a fire with a bucket, you must have a system. I hope it's written down somewhere. Do you have a brochure? A brochure wouldn't have much detail. A handbook?" Bast notes the exits and stairs on his way down - how many people would they let through? How many would it take to block them? How big a brawl would it make all but impossible to get through?
An hour later, he's on his second beer - doing his best to make it look like a sixth - and third tavern, practiced eye picking out the pushers and enforcers and the pickpocket tailing him for a couple of blocks before giving up in disgust. Orrey does learn that the Seventh Dawn docks at the Rainfall dock (a map later tells him this is the northwest dock) at the lowest level. That entire dock is reserved for ships with long-term docking arrangements, so even if they do not arrive for two weeks, the dock is always open and waiting for them. Very costly, but hey, getting paid for no work, not bad at all. Eiri and Juniper have claimed four of the smallest cabins on the bottom floor as their wardrobe workshop (which includes costumes and makeup). They knocked out the adjoining walls, installed a couple of oversize mirrors and some much better lighting, and stuffed the walls and ceiling with hangers. It's not comfortable, per se, but there's room to work, and there are bench seats outside for whoever's not currently being corseted and colored to wait. Clustered around those bench seats right now are the decoy crew: Mogratheo (in full captain's uniform), a rather nervous Lily, and Eiri herself, plus Juniper. Rahel skitters back in with an apology, explaining that Shula saw her and told her off in a very fierce whisper. "My lovely, wonderful, daring, ridiculous friends. You're here because we want the best! And you are it. ...nope, couldn't keep a straight face." The looks Linnet gets range from "what?" to a suppressed snort at Brandt's monologue from the Hole In The Wall Labs radio play they did his junior year.
"Let's start over. You're here because we need to put on a convincing production of our officer corps. I don't have the details on where exactly you'll be yet, but we need you to be the Public Face of the Starfall while we're off doing not-so-public stuff. Basically, we need you to be more us than we ever are, so that when somebody goes 'were they at the scene of the...thing they weren't supposed to be doing?', someone else can go 'clearly not, they were over here doing something very publicly Them.' You get me, right?"
A chorus of solemn-to-excited nods. "Mogratheo, you got the idea already; we're putting you in the captain's coat he never wears and the backup hat. Brandt, we're gonna stick a purple wig on you and give you a notebook, and possibly have you run around shouting about time; you're our Orrey. Rahel is me, which shouldn't take much effort besides making the wig from Out of the Woods presentable; Juniper, set aside a few hours for that, please. Lily, steel yourself, you're the best backup Isa we've got; stand tall, look unamused, and don't take any crap from anyone. And Eiri, with the aid of some spray dye and a dramatic black coat, you're going to be Yves himself."
Eiri looks absolutely tickled at this idea. Yves returns with six pamphlets, one pre-emptive apology, three apologies for things that weren't Yinha's fault, two pamphlets, one address & office location of the fire marshal, two quotes for fire insurance, reassurance that Yinha uses well-paid firefolks for battling fires, a Geomancer on retainer for severe blazes that never happen, regular patrols for combatting any assassins which also never happen, another apology, a coupon for a free pastry with any large coffee, one lollipop (no one remembers why), and a copy of the day's newspaper which the poor worker had been trying to read on her break. "Someone remind me to look into what it would take to get actual proper insurance," Yves says to a passing crew member as he unloads his spoils into the cramped room that serves as file storage, accounting office, and library overflow (with a conveniently sized door flap for Principia to come through). "Especially for fire. And water. And water used to put out fire. It turns out airships practically spontaneously combust, especially when flown by crews who prioritize speed and cost-cutting over safety. Some of them are absolute deathtraps."
(Trelle has absolutely no idea what it would take to get proper airship insurance, but takes dutiful note of the question, just as she takes dutiful notes of everything else.) Bast learns that the Yinha underworld is nowhere near as vast as the Triad's, but what is here is lean. Two major groups vying for supremacy, primarily in skimming tariffs and siphoning off the choicest goods. It's a real fruits vs. vegetables battle, food groups beefing over the best accompaniment for beef, each one looking for the next opportunity to grill up some real trouble. The biggest opportunities come when someone tries to smuggle something in, that's the real meat on the bone. Someone trying to slip a little nougat in the chocolate. Someone not declaring that this product may contain nuts. When the goods are unlicensed, there's no one to complain to when your security artichokes under pressure. If word gets out that someone's actually hauling undeclared food, that's a score you can sink your teeth into, and if both groups were to hear that, well, you could get a real oil and vinegar situation, and then things around that dock could get... spicy. Isa makes the climb to the higher docks, watching the changes in process and security as she does so. At the upper tiers, she spends more time examining the docking clamps; specifically, just how sturdy do they have to be when the craft are so much smaller, and how likely would they be able to withstand a bluespirit-injected Cardian military engine. Lily looks honored to be Isa, or maybe just furious. It's a very Isa-like expression, right now. Rahel is already getting everyone to swear her Linnet impression to secrecy, which is... troubling?
Security up here is both better and worse -- better in that they are paying more attention to the people wandering around, making sure there aren't any ne'er-do-wells creeping around (Isa's general forthright fuck-off demeanor has the guard here hold her in high regard, why, she must be One Of Their Number), worse in that they travel in larger groups and therefore leave more gaps in the coverage overall. The matter of the docking clamps is reassuring for anyone not attempting to juice their own engines; breaking free of a clamp will take a skilled pilot along with the thrust of the bluespirit, but from how the clamps respond to ships settling in, they will adjust if the pilot can't get the ship clear in that first push. Having played his part as directed by his captain, Yves settles down in the single comfortable chair that fits into the ship's fairly recently created library, and begins reading through the informative pamphlets. The stick of the lollipop sticks out of the corner of his mouth like a cigarette, perhaps the most legal drug he's never gotten around to trying. "I suspect I could improve some of these, with enough time, budget, equipment, and no one being too fussy about the automatic tradeoffs built into the system where you sacrifice a few things on fire to save things that aren't on fire yet," he comments to Principia. "...this may be why I'm not in a port management job." "They make more money than we do. That's interesting, right?" Orrey says. Calling reassurances over her shoulder, Linnet emerges abovedecks again, shaking her head and laughing. "Well, I think we've got our decoy team set. We might regret it, but we'll have a Very Obvious Presence wherever you decide to stage them, Bast. And I don't know your motivations, so I can't give them your motivations, so Mogratheo's just going to make them up." She gives the captain her most innocent grin.
"...so I'm thinking that if we tip off one side to show up ten minutes earlier that might be a good distraction and draw the crew up on deck, and then the others will show up..." Bast breaks off from laying out his thoughts to Isa and turns to Linnet with the smile still firmly on his face. "Mysterious? Let's go with mysterious, sure." "Now all we need is a map of the Dawn and to determine whether the Meteor can outrun it if need be or if we'll need to hide somewhere." Orrey says. When Yves arrives to join the other officers, the lollipop and newspaper are gone, but he still has eight pamphlets, various quotes, contact info, a large cup of coffee, and slightly sticky fingers. "So, good news, if our ship catches fire, we're probably not doomed if we're in port at the time! But it would be very expensive. Can we even get fire insurance on a ship like this?"
Isa has her boots up, and a glass in her hand. "It'd mean letting inspectors aboard, so no."
"Yeah, none of that for us. But lots of determined people showing up for smoke to see if there's a fire to put out? That's useful." "I don't think we're going to get that map while we're here, but did anyone have any ideas on that bolt hole?" asks Linnet. "Figures, on the insurance." Yves looks slightly disappointed, then remembers that the purpose of all this information gathering was not, in fact, to make sure his actual ship would be safe from actual dire fires in port. "--so, I brought back a lot of brochures, and some additional info. Very helpful people." There is a knock at the door, or rather, there is the start of a firm knock at the door, three sharp raps, and then it kind of degenerates into some syncopated distracted noodling, meaning that Celeste is here and her brain just left to do something else. "Also, a ship below us looking like it's on fire could be a damn good reason for getting the clamps off real urgent-like without breaking them." Bast looks over at the door.
"That doesn't sound like one of mine." Linnet looks very confused.
Orrey pops up and lets Celeste in, with a quick smile and a hello.
"Everything goes right, we'll be out of dock before things get busy," Isa says. Celeste gets a quick nod of greeting. Celeste very nearly knocks on Orrey's forehead, so engrossed is she in her maps, before realizing the door is open. "Oh. Hi. You're all back," she says, looking around. "I was just going to leave this for the Captain, but while you're all here..." She walks in and spreads out one of her twenty-odd maps on the table, waving her hands at Yves until the coaster is moved on top of the map. She also hands Bast a colorful pamphlet promising an unforgettable scenic getaway at Ba Nghìn Con Dao.
"You were looking for a place to hide, and this is the first place I found," she says. Yves shuffles pamphlets around to help make space for the map without losing any glossy folded information to the floor, then leans in (coffee coastered) to follow along.
Isa looks at the map. "If we don't blow up the engines, that's in Meteor's range." The waters southwest of Yinha, toward Caerwyn, are full of hundreds of small overgrown islets, and the tallest twenty or so stretch as high as eight hundred feet above sea level. Each island is far smaller than even the smallest of the Three Sisters (which measures 400 square miles). While the Three Sisters islands were quickly linked to the Triad (folklore named them potential brides of the Triad’s namesakes), the islets were named later. Ba Nghìn Con Dao took its name from the thousand blades each sister carried to ward off (or in some particularly enjoyable variations, cut down) potential suitors while Phiro, Sofia, and Zurvan traveled the world. By the time the Triad’s warriors returned, the Three Sisters were more than a match for them, and no longer found their betrotheds worthy of their attention. The Three Sisters retired to the wilds to live together in peace, happily ever after. Ba Nghìn Con Dao is downright treacherous at high speeds, and while it is a popular sailing and vacationing trip, no trade routes go through it, and the Arithmagician forbids industrialization within its waters. Smaller airships occasionally weave between its jungled peaks, searching for the most picturesque places, though there are no docks built into any of the islets, restricting any ships to only ever landing in the water. The islets are so close together that large ships navigate the sea very poorly, and large airships must fly overhead, risking the wrath of Machanon’s leadership, so most give the bay a wide berth. Bast looks at the pamphlet, brows drawing together in bafflement. He doesn't interrupt Celeste's presentation, but mutters under his breath "...sure wouldn't forget wrecking on one of those...". "They couldn't follow us in, and the passages are tight enough where we could avoid being seen from overhead if we hug the edges," Celeste says, fully confident in Isa's ability to do this. "And while we're not supposed to land on any of the islands, we could, and there are waterfalls, hot springs, peaks to climb, hundreds of species of wildlife not found anywhere else, these vines that will climb up the side of a boat inside of five minutes while you watch..." "...let's plan the vacation after we get the dangerous bit done," suggests Linnet. But Celeste's excitement is contagious.
Isa inhales. "Oo, with you right until the end there Celeste."
"Vines make good camouflage," Orrey says.
"No making friends with the ship-eating vines." Bast is looking directly at Yves. "I've had good luck with fast-moving strange plants," Yves volunteers. "They were very communicative! Although I suppose these ones might just be like kudzu, in which case it had better not get so much as one seed left inside our ship when we leave."
"Don't you use kudzu as a swearword?" Linnet points out.
"Yes, which is why if we think there might be any on the Meteor when we leave the island, we'll have to set it on fire." Yves drinks his coffee, then hastily clarifies, "Not the island, where I assume it would be native! The Meteor. If I were ever responsible for bringing an invasive species as fast-growing as that to a new environment, my grandmother would be so disappointed in me." "I was told that it is a sight you have to see to believe, and I for one am in favor of seeing it," Celeste says eagerly. She's clearly making plans to go next time she's vacationing away from the ship, which no one has asked to do and the captain probably doesn't want anyone even thinking about. "Right, we've got the bolthole, we've got the overly juiced getaway vehicle, we've got the decoys, we've got the location...we've got the next few weeks' worth of groceries, if that sound is anything to go by..." (The sound in question is a half-dozen heavily loaded actors entering the ship and tromping toward the galley.) "Now all we need is the mayhem, I guess." "And the Dawn map. Anybody have any idea how to get one of those?" Orrey asks. "Write your sister a letter?" suggests Linnet. "Do we know the shipyard it was built at?" Isa inquires.
"Got a few hooks out, but I'll see what we can find out in that direction," replies Bast Linnet nods her thanks all around and slips out of the meeting to direct the unloading of twenty pounds of tomatoes and various unpronounceable greens. "Oh, shards." Bast smacks his forehead and looks a shade paler. "Yves, I never did look over those modifications. Let's go have a look. Now."
They are to break into the Seventh Dawn, the airship of the Rising Stars -- the other group traveling Ducorde with an eye to the stars in the sky -- retrieve the Frost Fair Blade, and then deliver it to a buyer in the Triad for...something, certainly.
With the information the Captain presented in the officer meeting, the team has started to put together the skeleton of a plan, using the reliability of the Seventh Dawn's flight path to their advantage.
They set about filling in the gaps of their knowledge first with Apoc, grilling the sailor third parties would call 'controversial' (each officer would choose a very different word, with no overlap between them) on the identities of the masks known to be in the Rising Stars' possession, and then more about the very angry god currently powering their ship.
The officers not present for this investigation, one by choice and one most assuredly not, spent their time working on Meteor as part of their daring heist, and trading in good old-fashioned gossip.
There are still days to go before the plan is put into action, meaning there is still plenty of time for this to actually become a plan.
To that end, the Starfall has traveled to Yinha to learn the lay of the land, identify any likely escape routes, and perhaps get a nice meal before it becomes a place they can never go again...
**
Machanon’s only western port, Yinha serves as the transportation and shipping hub for the other ten cities in the city-state, connecting hundreds of thousands of people with the outside world. The skies are full of airships arriving and departing, a sky of propellers and turbines above a sea of sails and smokestacks. Yinha is a port of transients but a city of constants, as the people managing the logistics network here are passionate to a fault, eager to talk travelers’ ears off about how one manages the delivery of seventy-two crates of blackberries to nine different cities (and why, precisely, Mechon has such distrust for blackberries) (it is never interesting). The vast farmland surrounding the city provides room for a healthy number of farms, with the farmers alternating the land’s purpose depending on the season, rotating crops to ensure the land is never stripped bare. Every day Yinha sees crops brought in from the outstretches for shipping and selling, and farmer’s markets are always available every day of the week. Yinha’s climate is comfortable year-round, and its boring, reliable weather makes it perfect for its role as the breadbox of a continent.
Every restaurant in the city will prepare their food to go, with equal care for plating regardless of if it is going to a table or to a box. In stark contrast to its incredible variety of ingredients, most restaurants in Yinha end up tasting basically the same, with emphasis on comfort food, starch, large portions, and food that reheats well. Fewer than 5% of Yinha’s restaurants discourage children.
Yinha holds Machanon’s only amusement park, Kupoten!!, renowned for its new roller coasters, merry-go-rounds, and lively stage shows. It is one of the most popular vacation destinations in the world, with many families making annual visits.
The aerodrome in Yinha dominates the port, a wide three-story building with four branching towers extending off northwest, northeast, southwest, and southeast. Each tower has tiers of docks for arriving ships, starting with the largest ships at the bottom (the Starfall fits in this category) and then plenty of extra room for the smaller ships.
In total, Yinha can hold twenty large airships and eighty medium airships, with effectively unlimited room for smallest class. Docking fees are quite reasonable for the first 48 hours, but rise exponentially from there, to keep ships traveling in and out. The Starfall has received clearance for Docking Bay 3 on the northeast dock, the Oyungezer dock.
(Linnet is off in a corner making a very thorough grocery list. The crew will be eating very well for the next week or three.) "Look, Yves, it's really not that frightening," Isa says. "The harness is a tried and tested design and you're going to be on the deck, not hanging off a boom to the side."
"I just don't want you falling off mid-fireball if I have to dive." Marina is the only non-officer on the bridge (as the ship really doesn't work well without its pilot). The speaking tubes connecting the bridge to the rest of the ship are carrying Jasper's tinny words, running through the list of crew that are allowed to disembark, reminding everyone that this is not a trip for shore leave. Bast is hanging out at the rail, estimating holding spaces and escape trajectories for the Meteor. "I agree with the not falling off thing, it's just..." Yves stares dubiously into the air, imagining exactly how various things could go. "Wouldn't something a bit more magitech be more reliable? High-tech. Magical. Less... made of... ropes." The reliability of magitek gets a captainly snort, but no further comment. "The rope's just a backup," Isa says, definitely not sulkily. "It's mostly leather."
"Like... from an animal. An animal I've never met. Which someone else processed. To make... a rope. Which I should trust with my life. Just in case." Yves's gaze goes even more distant. "...so, okay, what if I improve the rope?"
Isa claps Yves on the shoulder. "Yves. I'm trusting you with my engines. Trust me with your security." (Linnet is fully aware that the farmer's markets are not the primary purpose of the trip, but she's not going to pass up the opportunity.)
"Right, Shula, while you and your chosen handful are out restocking our larder, please keep an ear to the ground. I don't know the city at all, so I'm trusting your judgment here. And for heaven's sake have Owen carry the heavy stuff, there's no need for you to be doing it. Got it?" The Starfall glides into place, and as those on the deck watch, four large cranes slide along thick metal bars, moving to the four corners of the ship. The tops of the cranes open into two round panels, each ten feet across. They emit a powerful baritone blast, then pulse into a low, constant hum, the air around the edges of the panels rippling with gravitational force. Yves swallows, then puts on a steadfast, confident, officer-like expression. "Of course, Isa." Marina lets the engines disengage, and the Starfall dips maybe three inches before the panels' hum strengthens, and then the Starfall rises back in place, docked securely. "Huh." Bast walks along the rail towards one of the cranes for a closer look. The shopping trip is briefly held up by Linnet having to explain what the heck half the vegetables on the list are. Some comical hand gestures don't exactly reassure any onlookers, but daikon are hard to describe in non-comical ways. Orrey is all business with his colored pencils currently, drawing everything around the docks in snippets here and there in his sketchbook. He also has a map forming on another couple pages with strange symbols everywhere. There is a great deal of debate on how one should spell "pawpaw fruit," with the majority siding with "I don't care if that's right, I'm not writing it down that way." Yves tilts his head further and further to one side, until an ear is dangling down and he's staring at the docking system bent at a nearly ninety-degree angle. "...oh that's interesting," he says. "That's really interesting. I think I would need a lot more instruments to do those sorts of calculations that precisely that fast. Interesting. I should experiment with Gravity more, though I suppose, since I can't really do it myself... Huh." Two of the less occupied actors are sent scurrying throughout the storage rooms for every unoccupied glass jar on the ship. Bast has hopped over the railing, holding on with one hand while leaning out uncomfortably close to the gravitational field, muttering something about "...how did they manage that coupling...". "Look, it doesn't matter how you spell it," Linnet explains, "half of the time it's not written down anyway, as long as you know what you're describing they'll have some idea. Orrey, come over here and see if you can put a sketch to any of these names, please, that ought to help..." With a deep sigh, Bast pulls back from the tech that he is not allowed to disassemble to find out how it works and hops the rail again to go check on the crew. "...and I would need to learn Rejuvenation, does anyone on the ship even know that?" Yves mutters to himself. "I need a better lab." Bast stops by where a slightly frazzled Linnet is directing the assembling shore party, and mutters "See what you can find out about enforcers around here? And how they handle the docks?" "Right! Yes! Thank you! Shula - what the captain just said." Linnet looks concerned. "Just...don't get in their way. And if you do get in their way, point Owen at them." Shula takes Linnet by the shoulders, looks her straight in the eyes, holds her attention, and then says, very kindly, "Calm the hell down. We'll be back in two hours."
"...yes'm," Linnet mutters. "Dammit, Yves, Bast, your befrazzlement is contagious." (It's really not; this is 95% pure Linnet.) Shula leads a procession off the ship, leaving the officers behind. Bast musses up his hair until it does a passable attempt at standing up, and gives Linnet his best mad magingeneer look. "I'm not befrazzled," Yves says, not bothering to stand up straight again yet either. "I'm besmitted. Uh. Besmitten. Enamored? Bescienced with admiration. That's it." Artemicion has come out onto the deck to take notes on the docking system. Apoc jogs down the ramp carrying a few sealed envelopes. Rahel follows after him, but breaks off quickly to go chat up anyone around here who looks like they might know what they're doing. "So, presumably we have a plan besides 'twiddle our thumbs and wait for them to get here'...feel like letting me in on it, Captain?" Somewhere, Linnet has picked up the habit of twisting the tips of her wings into her hair when she's ill at ease. They're very tangled right now. "For now, find out what we can to make our lives easier when the day comes. Isa, can you pick out a few good escape routes? And Yves..." Bast shields his eyes as he looks up at the docking structure. "...think you can find out how they respond to fires? Let's say you're a touch nervous about your cargo." Isa nods. "We'll be berthed above here; I can go see what the facilities look like amongst the lesser craft." "I can ask!" Yves stands up straight, gleeful for an instant. "I can be very nervous at people. It's easy to just... what did one of the actors call it? Inhabiting the character space, or something like that. I can do that pretty well with that one." "Should I start working with the decoy crew, then?" asks Linnet.
"Sounds good. And Orrey, can you find out where the Dawn usually docks? I've got some questions of my own to look into around town." "You get into your own head very well, Yves. Just don't get too magitek-y at them right away." Linnet winks and heads off to chase down certain prime suspects. Orrey salutes the captain and wanders off to find the Dawn’s berth. Isa fragments the party further, debarking to head up the tower to the small-ship docks. On her way out of the room, Linnet elbows Bast briefly and jerks her head toward the ship's pilot, tapping the side of her head in a gesture she hopes means 'information' and not 'she's a little nuts.' Yves sets his shoulders back. Then sort of lets them hunch in again and strides briskly toward a place where he can find someone official-looking, but not too important, to be extremely anxious about flammability and documented procedures at. Bast, apparently satisfied with where things are at, heads for the seediest tavern he can spot from way up here. Orrey wanders down the docks to the rowdiest drinking establishment he can find, and then goes to the next one because the first was WAY too loud even from outside. Finding a dapper Moogle in overalls and a bowler hat at a pool table by himself, practicing his break, Orrey smiles and offers to play.
The moogle introduces himself as Kupo Kupington, which is almost certainly his name, and proceeds to take Orrey's lunch for the next three weeks, which makes him quite chipper and talkative. It does not take Yves long to find someone who works for the port, corner them, and begin asking extremely anxious questions about the fire safety processes in the area. In detail, from several directions, rapid-fire, so that it's almost harder to keep up with his questions than to answer them. "--and my cousin's second husband said that his ex was once a ship that was three berths down from a ship that caught fire while next to a ship on the other side that was carrying bluespirit, and the explosion was bad enough, but the heat of the flames afterward stripped off the paint from the inside of the cabins in her ship. Three berths down from the fire! Four from the explosion! It turned out the port didn't carry any insurance, the admin disappeared in the middle of the night, so, right, what's the insurance situation like? But more importantly, fire suppression! Fire breaks? It needs to be broken and suppressed, for the sake of what's on fire right then, and not on fire yet. And what kind of fire suppression? Our insurance covers fire damage but not water damage. They were so specific about that. It costs extra. I'm pretty sure my blood pressure goes up every time we cross a stream. I didn't see any significant sprinklers around here. Is it water-based? Foam? Corrosive foam? Do the people assessing the fire actually check for whether it's an electrical fire, grease fire, chemical fire, wood fire, magic fire, or what before they--wait, you do have assessors, right? Who responds to fires? Where are they stationed? Do they take shifts? Are they supplied with coffee? You have a constant watch, right? Though of course I don't expect one person to put out a fire with a bucket, you must have a system. I hope it's written down somewhere. Do you have a brochure? A brochure wouldn't have much detail. A handbook?" Bast notes the exits and stairs on his way down - how many people would they let through? How many would it take to block them? How big a brawl would it make all but impossible to get through?
An hour later, he's on his second beer - doing his best to make it look like a sixth - and third tavern, practiced eye picking out the pushers and enforcers and the pickpocket tailing him for a couple of blocks before giving up in disgust. Orrey does learn that the Seventh Dawn docks at the Rainfall dock (a map later tells him this is the northwest dock) at the lowest level. That entire dock is reserved for ships with long-term docking arrangements, so even if they do not arrive for two weeks, the dock is always open and waiting for them. Very costly, but hey, getting paid for no work, not bad at all. Eiri and Juniper have claimed four of the smallest cabins on the bottom floor as their wardrobe workshop (which includes costumes and makeup). They knocked out the adjoining walls, installed a couple of oversize mirrors and some much better lighting, and stuffed the walls and ceiling with hangers. It's not comfortable, per se, but there's room to work, and there are bench seats outside for whoever's not currently being corseted and colored to wait. Clustered around those bench seats right now are the decoy crew: Mogratheo (in full captain's uniform), a rather nervous Lily, and Eiri herself, plus Juniper. Rahel skitters back in with an apology, explaining that Shula saw her and told her off in a very fierce whisper. "My lovely, wonderful, daring, ridiculous friends. You're here because we want the best! And you are it. ...nope, couldn't keep a straight face." The looks Linnet gets range from "what?" to a suppressed snort at Brandt's monologue from the Hole In The Wall Labs radio play they did his junior year.
"Let's start over. You're here because we need to put on a convincing production of our officer corps. I don't have the details on where exactly you'll be yet, but we need you to be the Public Face of the Starfall while we're off doing not-so-public stuff. Basically, we need you to be more us than we ever are, so that when somebody goes 'were they at the scene of the...thing they weren't supposed to be doing?', someone else can go 'clearly not, they were over here doing something very publicly Them.' You get me, right?"
A chorus of solemn-to-excited nods. "Mogratheo, you got the idea already; we're putting you in the captain's coat he never wears and the backup hat. Brandt, we're gonna stick a purple wig on you and give you a notebook, and possibly have you run around shouting about time; you're our Orrey. Rahel is me, which shouldn't take much effort besides making the wig from Out of the Woods presentable; Juniper, set aside a few hours for that, please. Lily, steel yourself, you're the best backup Isa we've got; stand tall, look unamused, and don't take any crap from anyone. And Eiri, with the aid of some spray dye and a dramatic black coat, you're going to be Yves himself."
Eiri looks absolutely tickled at this idea. Yves returns with six pamphlets, one pre-emptive apology, three apologies for things that weren't Yinha's fault, two pamphlets, one address & office location of the fire marshal, two quotes for fire insurance, reassurance that Yinha uses well-paid firefolks for battling fires, a Geomancer on retainer for severe blazes that never happen, regular patrols for combatting any assassins which also never happen, another apology, a coupon for a free pastry with any large coffee, one lollipop (no one remembers why), and a copy of the day's newspaper which the poor worker had been trying to read on her break. "Someone remind me to look into what it would take to get actual proper insurance," Yves says to a passing crew member as he unloads his spoils into the cramped room that serves as file storage, accounting office, and library overflow (with a conveniently sized door flap for Principia to come through). "Especially for fire. And water. And water used to put out fire. It turns out airships practically spontaneously combust, especially when flown by crews who prioritize speed and cost-cutting over safety. Some of them are absolute deathtraps."
(Trelle has absolutely no idea what it would take to get proper airship insurance, but takes dutiful note of the question, just as she takes dutiful notes of everything else.) Bast learns that the Yinha underworld is nowhere near as vast as the Triad's, but what is here is lean. Two major groups vying for supremacy, primarily in skimming tariffs and siphoning off the choicest goods. It's a real fruits vs. vegetables battle, food groups beefing over the best accompaniment for beef, each one looking for the next opportunity to grill up some real trouble. The biggest opportunities come when someone tries to smuggle something in, that's the real meat on the bone. Someone trying to slip a little nougat in the chocolate. Someone not declaring that this product may contain nuts. When the goods are unlicensed, there's no one to complain to when your security artichokes under pressure. If word gets out that someone's actually hauling undeclared food, that's a score you can sink your teeth into, and if both groups were to hear that, well, you could get a real oil and vinegar situation, and then things around that dock could get... spicy. Isa makes the climb to the higher docks, watching the changes in process and security as she does so. At the upper tiers, she spends more time examining the docking clamps; specifically, just how sturdy do they have to be when the craft are so much smaller, and how likely would they be able to withstand a bluespirit-injected Cardian military engine. Lily looks honored to be Isa, or maybe just furious. It's a very Isa-like expression, right now. Rahel is already getting everyone to swear her Linnet impression to secrecy, which is... troubling?
Security up here is both better and worse -- better in that they are paying more attention to the people wandering around, making sure there aren't any ne'er-do-wells creeping around (Isa's general forthright fuck-off demeanor has the guard here hold her in high regard, why, she must be One Of Their Number), worse in that they travel in larger groups and therefore leave more gaps in the coverage overall. The matter of the docking clamps is reassuring for anyone not attempting to juice their own engines; breaking free of a clamp will take a skilled pilot along with the thrust of the bluespirit, but from how the clamps respond to ships settling in, they will adjust if the pilot can't get the ship clear in that first push. Having played his part as directed by his captain, Yves settles down in the single comfortable chair that fits into the ship's fairly recently created library, and begins reading through the informative pamphlets. The stick of the lollipop sticks out of the corner of his mouth like a cigarette, perhaps the most legal drug he's never gotten around to trying. "I suspect I could improve some of these, with enough time, budget, equipment, and no one being too fussy about the automatic tradeoffs built into the system where you sacrifice a few things on fire to save things that aren't on fire yet," he comments to Principia. "...this may be why I'm not in a port management job." "They make more money than we do. That's interesting, right?" Orrey says. Calling reassurances over her shoulder, Linnet emerges abovedecks again, shaking her head and laughing. "Well, I think we've got our decoy team set. We might regret it, but we'll have a Very Obvious Presence wherever you decide to stage them, Bast. And I don't know your motivations, so I can't give them your motivations, so Mogratheo's just going to make them up." She gives the captain her most innocent grin.
"...so I'm thinking that if we tip off one side to show up ten minutes earlier that might be a good distraction and draw the crew up on deck, and then the others will show up..." Bast breaks off from laying out his thoughts to Isa and turns to Linnet with the smile still firmly on his face. "Mysterious? Let's go with mysterious, sure." "Now all we need is a map of the Dawn and to determine whether the Meteor can outrun it if need be or if we'll need to hide somewhere." Orrey says. When Yves arrives to join the other officers, the lollipop and newspaper are gone, but he still has eight pamphlets, various quotes, contact info, a large cup of coffee, and slightly sticky fingers. "So, good news, if our ship catches fire, we're probably not doomed if we're in port at the time! But it would be very expensive. Can we even get fire insurance on a ship like this?"
Isa has her boots up, and a glass in her hand. "It'd mean letting inspectors aboard, so no."
"Yeah, none of that for us. But lots of determined people showing up for smoke to see if there's a fire to put out? That's useful." "I don't think we're going to get that map while we're here, but did anyone have any ideas on that bolt hole?" asks Linnet. "Figures, on the insurance." Yves looks slightly disappointed, then remembers that the purpose of all this information gathering was not, in fact, to make sure his actual ship would be safe from actual dire fires in port. "--so, I brought back a lot of brochures, and some additional info. Very helpful people." There is a knock at the door, or rather, there is the start of a firm knock at the door, three sharp raps, and then it kind of degenerates into some syncopated distracted noodling, meaning that Celeste is here and her brain just left to do something else. "Also, a ship below us looking like it's on fire could be a damn good reason for getting the clamps off real urgent-like without breaking them." Bast looks over at the door.
"That doesn't sound like one of mine." Linnet looks very confused.
Orrey pops up and lets Celeste in, with a quick smile and a hello.
"Everything goes right, we'll be out of dock before things get busy," Isa says. Celeste gets a quick nod of greeting. Celeste very nearly knocks on Orrey's forehead, so engrossed is she in her maps, before realizing the door is open. "Oh. Hi. You're all back," she says, looking around. "I was just going to leave this for the Captain, but while you're all here..." She walks in and spreads out one of her twenty-odd maps on the table, waving her hands at Yves until the coaster is moved on top of the map. She also hands Bast a colorful pamphlet promising an unforgettable scenic getaway at Ba Nghìn Con Dao.
"You were looking for a place to hide, and this is the first place I found," she says. Yves shuffles pamphlets around to help make space for the map without losing any glossy folded information to the floor, then leans in (coffee coastered) to follow along.
Isa looks at the map. "If we don't blow up the engines, that's in Meteor's range." The waters southwest of Yinha, toward Caerwyn, are full of hundreds of small overgrown islets, and the tallest twenty or so stretch as high as eight hundred feet above sea level. Each island is far smaller than even the smallest of the Three Sisters (which measures 400 square miles). While the Three Sisters islands were quickly linked to the Triad (folklore named them potential brides of the Triad’s namesakes), the islets were named later. Ba Nghìn Con Dao took its name from the thousand blades each sister carried to ward off (or in some particularly enjoyable variations, cut down) potential suitors while Phiro, Sofia, and Zurvan traveled the world. By the time the Triad’s warriors returned, the Three Sisters were more than a match for them, and no longer found their betrotheds worthy of their attention. The Three Sisters retired to the wilds to live together in peace, happily ever after. Ba Nghìn Con Dao is downright treacherous at high speeds, and while it is a popular sailing and vacationing trip, no trade routes go through it, and the Arithmagician forbids industrialization within its waters. Smaller airships occasionally weave between its jungled peaks, searching for the most picturesque places, though there are no docks built into any of the islets, restricting any ships to only ever landing in the water. The islets are so close together that large ships navigate the sea very poorly, and large airships must fly overhead, risking the wrath of Machanon’s leadership, so most give the bay a wide berth. Bast looks at the pamphlet, brows drawing together in bafflement. He doesn't interrupt Celeste's presentation, but mutters under his breath "...sure wouldn't forget wrecking on one of those...". "They couldn't follow us in, and the passages are tight enough where we could avoid being seen from overhead if we hug the edges," Celeste says, fully confident in Isa's ability to do this. "And while we're not supposed to land on any of the islands, we could, and there are waterfalls, hot springs, peaks to climb, hundreds of species of wildlife not found anywhere else, these vines that will climb up the side of a boat inside of five minutes while you watch..." "...let's plan the vacation after we get the dangerous bit done," suggests Linnet. But Celeste's excitement is contagious.
Isa inhales. "Oo, with you right until the end there Celeste."
"Vines make good camouflage," Orrey says.
"No making friends with the ship-eating vines." Bast is looking directly at Yves. "I've had good luck with fast-moving strange plants," Yves volunteers. "They were very communicative! Although I suppose these ones might just be like kudzu, in which case it had better not get so much as one seed left inside our ship when we leave."
"Don't you use kudzu as a swearword?" Linnet points out.
"Yes, which is why if we think there might be any on the Meteor when we leave the island, we'll have to set it on fire." Yves drinks his coffee, then hastily clarifies, "Not the island, where I assume it would be native! The Meteor. If I were ever responsible for bringing an invasive species as fast-growing as that to a new environment, my grandmother would be so disappointed in me." "I was told that it is a sight you have to see to believe, and I for one am in favor of seeing it," Celeste says eagerly. She's clearly making plans to go next time she's vacationing away from the ship, which no one has asked to do and the captain probably doesn't want anyone even thinking about. "Right, we've got the bolthole, we've got the overly juiced getaway vehicle, we've got the decoys, we've got the location...we've got the next few weeks' worth of groceries, if that sound is anything to go by..." (The sound in question is a half-dozen heavily loaded actors entering the ship and tromping toward the galley.) "Now all we need is the mayhem, I guess." "And the Dawn map. Anybody have any idea how to get one of those?" Orrey asks. "Write your sister a letter?" suggests Linnet. "Do we know the shipyard it was built at?" Isa inquires.
"Got a few hooks out, but I'll see what we can find out in that direction," replies Bast Linnet nods her thanks all around and slips out of the meeting to direct the unloading of twenty pounds of tomatoes and various unpronounceable greens. "Oh, shards." Bast smacks his forehead and looks a shade paler. "Yves, I never did look over those modifications. Let's go have a look. Now."