* * *

* * *

***

While Yga had provided cursory reports of her activities throughout her trading enterprises within Limsa, this was the first time she'd had the opportunity to file something in detail. Any lengthy reports within Vylbrand itself were subject to interception, and so details had been kept vague until a face-to-face was possible.

Once her anger had finally settled, Ulf took her word on most matters in the state - he had no choice but to do so, given the lack of contact otherwise. He also took her gifts, and regarded the biscuit she'd given him with suspicion. People told stories about Eorzean food. Too much aether in their meals, and something that was a "beast tribe specialty" as she put it could only be suspect. It could poison a person. She insisted it was fine, but it lay untouched on the staff room's central table.

"Sorry," she said, noting his suspicion with a dismayed frown. "I would have found something a little more interesting - even safer, for your sake - but once it was clear it wasn't Toyomo on the communicator I booked the first ferry out of the city."

"It's fine. Truly." He picked up the biscuit and took a tentative bite. When his death failed to immediately appear, he took another. "So, you think they're receptive?"

"I know they're receptive, Ulf. They were mobbing their marketplaces for this stuff. The Miniature Wave Oven in particular, but everything sold well. They want magitek. Not just their sellswords, but the common man. And not just that - they want the order we can offer."

He raised his eyebrows, which was an uncomfortable act. Since becoming an officer, he had stopped shaving them to fit in, and it was strange having hair just above his eyes at all times. "Order? That's a bold claim. Reports from Ishgard suggest they want less of it."

"I'm not speaking about Ishgard, Ulf, or Ul'dah, or Gridania. Just Limsa Lominsa. They want order. When that mutiny happened, may Conner rest with the Emperor, people were demanding it, howling for it. And most of the time their city obliges!"

Ulf's eyebrows raised higher. "Limsa Lominsa. Obliging them."

"Yes."

"The beating heart of the privateer army."

"Yes."

"Scourge of the Garlean merchant-marine and all seafaring trade."

"Yes. I know what it looks like on the outside, but the old die-hards, the old privateers are fading away. Hells, there may well be a third of them with Slaeglac on the island! Their Admiral banned piracy, and people grumbled, but she acted rightly - people are getting used to it. I think it's a matter of years before they fold the privateers into their own fleet, especially if they can't control them easily. And then the city is practically asking to be a province of ours."

"That doesn't guarantee much," said Ulf once he had finished his biscuit, dusting a stray crumb or two from his gloves. "It might just mean more trouble for Garlemald."

"That's where we come in." Yga had a hard time sitting still when going over her plans, and rose to pace the office. "They have the order, but they don't yet have the benefits of it. Their magitek industries are fragmented. Von Garlond's Ironworks and the Manufactory can't keep up with demand, and the sellswords tend to keep what they make for their own use. None of it is centralized, and there is no standardization. Magitek designs very based on who made it and who's selling it. It's all craftsmanship - which, well," she pointed to herself. "I can appreciate that, but it's hard on their smallfolk. We can offer them standardized products that greatly improve their lives at a scale beyond what any of the city-states or sellswords can offer."

"And when we get them used to their presence, we can take them away," he remarked. Yga beamed at him as if he were a slow pupil getting a rare difficult answer right on the first try.

"Right. I've already been talking to our suppliers on this side of the Wall about effecting that. And then I heard something about some nonsense with a warship - tensions between the city and Ul'dah - that should help considerably. Make them miss what they've lost. They'll demand the Admiralty ease tensions on their own, and the Alliance be damned."

Ulf ran his hand across his chin, frowning. It flew in the face of Garlean doctrine. Then again, many things in this expedition did so. A vessel that sailed below the waves when the average Architectus had his eyes fixed to the sky. A plan to buy their way into Eorzean dominion after years of failed conquests. A disdain for the superweapon in favor of the soldier, and pirates selling their freedom because, as their leader had once remarked to Ulf, he'd never felt more like a slave than when he was utterly free.

"Can you implement this? Even after being compromised?" Taking her seat again, Yga drummed out a mindless marching rhythm on the table with her fingers. Even sitting, she was never truly still.

"I think so. I'll need you to take me to the island, though."

"They might object to the Firmitas sailing into their harbor," he scoffed.

"If we can rendezvous with one of the supply ships, that's fine. Or we can take one of the gunships if you can spare one. But I need to work with them directly. Shouldn't change your orders, Ulf - keep your ship at the defensive line, whatever that is, and let the Architectus tinker with his whale-ship."

"Pilus Hartsblood!" The voice was tinny, screeching, and coming through his communication device. Ulf recognized Virgil's voice, distorted through the walls of the whale-ship, but only just. He held out a hand for Yga to wait a moment as he received the call.

"Sir?"

"We are proceeding to dock. Meet me at the staging point while we change crews. There's something you should see."

***

Despite his rank and training, Ulf had never had cause to interact with much that looked like Allagan technology. Some of the autonomous units of the legions were drawn from their designs, of course, but these had been refashioned in the style of Garlean aesthetics. His experiences with the "real thing" had been quite brief, in the form of examinations of deactivated models of those floating "nodes" they seemed to have in all of their facilities. The only way he could clearly identify something wrought by the hands of Ancient Allag was if it was covered in sharp, straight, luminescent lines.

The object Virgil was having the crew extract from the hold of the Immesrabilis was riddled with them. Squat, vaguely rectangular, and completely covered in the stuff. There were no immediate clues as to its function, and the lack thereof made Ulf come to a second conclusion - unidentified Allagan technology should be treated as dangerous and life-threatening to all members of the crew until proven otherwise.

He had switched the safety off of his gunbaghnakhs and taken aim at the device before he'd even realized it because of that conclusion. His own soldiers stared at him in shock, frozen in place with the device carted between them. "Put it down," he said. "Put it down slowly, legionnaires, and come to my side. The same for the rest of the crew."

The soldiers obliged, and hastened to Ulf's side of the docking bay. "Tell the rest of the men to seal off the bay. Be prepared to evacuate the Firmitas if anything goes awry."

Silently, he cursed. What else would Virgil find down there? He had pried into the object of the Architectus' search, and been met only with polite rebuffs that said the information was not available to a Pilus, and little else. But what else could it be but Allagan spoils? They had sought to dominate the world, after all. Why wouldn't that include the seas?

"Ulf," Yga began, having come by his side to "have it out" with Virgil as he'd threatened. "What is that?"

"I don't know, Upper Citizen. Please leave the bay immediately." There were vagaries of rank here, given her attachment to the Special Expeditionary Cohort, but Ulf would take no chances. "Inform my security team they're needed immediately." His attention returned to the Immersabilis. Its entry hatch had been opened wider than normal to allow for the cargo's removal, but there was as yet no sign of Von Gravis. "Architectus? Are you present? What have you put on my ship?"

"Hold on, hold on." The crew of the whale-ship, gathered near its hatch, parted to let their commander through. Ulf's stance relaxed, but only just. "It's fine, Pilus Hartsblood. It's fine."

"Tell me what you've put on my ship, and why I shouldn't dispose of it."

If Virgil had said anything like what he expected the Black Wolf must have heard in making his devil's bargain to take control of Ultima, Ulf would have shot him and suffered the consequences. He could fantasize the possibilities: "Power beyond Garlemald's wildest dreams." "The final solution to the Eorzean Problem." A dozen other statements of similar grandeur, and similar delusion.

Instead, Virgil's response was, "It's not a weapon." And only then did Ulf lower his own. "It's a resource, but not a weapon. But I wouldn't shoot at it - I have no idea how much stress the container can take, not pressurized as it is."

The knowledge that Ulf was staring down a potential explosive made him wary again. "Explain, Architectus."

"You don't need to trouble yourself with - "

"Explain."

Virgil flinched, but interposed himself between the soldier and his cargo. "Ceruleum. Stable - unless you shoot at it of course - already refined, and concentrated. No estimates on its energy potential yet, but only yet. If my understanding of the systems of the facility are correct, then - " He inhaled, his chest swelling with pride. "Then I expect that this is but the first of many gifts we can expect from Dagon."