The Roehmerl
0800 Hours...
0800 Hours...
Eighty-five had idly glanced back and forth, humming to herself as the Sharlayan crew were being escorted once again. She was in slightly better spirits it seemed. Both her glance and her humming betrayed her being in thought, though it seemed like she was playing more with those thoughts than thinking extremely deep about it. Who really knew when that woman could turn on her serious switch? It was a very back and forth thing with her. Though her calming down a tad was often the first symptom of that switch occurring.
Ryanti had not expected Sounsyy to smirk at him. Or did she? Was that little movement of her lips imaginary in his head, or did it actually happen? The young man was not necessarily keeping count but… he had always remembered the way the Captain would look at him and she had never done that before. Or did she do that? If she did, he felt kind of silly for not making a face back. So he watched her for a moment longer making her way up, his chance of finding out whether that smirk was real or fake long gone.
It was then that Eighty-five had slowed her pace down a bit to walk parallel to Ryanti. He brushed a white lock of his aside, her little motion not going unnoticed but he said nothing for now.
Jonathan bent his gaze towards the key, not at all being effected by Jada’s little smile. While Eighty-five had a smirk on her face and Forty-three was trying to understand the gestures of shady individuals younger than him would make, Jonathan had the look on him like a scornful older brother protecting his sheep, and the flock included this ship. “It is incredibly wise that they do not be touched or tampered with. They are very dangerous and have extreme potential to be mis-used, Quartermaster. They are not familiar to most who graze this realm, and ignorance is an extreme danger.â€
Eighty-five let out a little bit of air from her swollen cheeks in the way one would take an awkward breath watching someone else say something a bit prickly. But Jonathan wasn’t really all that phased. Forty-three had quite the serious look on his face however, his spectacles reflecting the light bouncing off from the windowsill. The makeshift leader of the unit took himself to the crate, and the Sharlayan crew took all of the space that they had to work with their equipment.
Upon peeling open the crate, they got to work. The first thing that the group did was very carefully pull out the weapons. They were guns, that was for sure, but they were far from muskets, designed in a way that neither resembled Garlean gunblades or even revolving rifles. They were foreign in make as they were with their components. They possessed parts inside of their mechanical systems that moved. These moving parts adjusted themselves based on what the Sharlayan crew did.
Both Ryanti and Eighty-five took the rifles and walked over to their own side of the room while Jonathan and Forty-three settled to the other. Jonathan tasked himself with the responsibility of making sure that the Sharlayan operative suits were working. Some sounds of air compression were heard as he tested the gear upon the suit responsible for being able to dive underwater. It was a sophisticated set up of micro-fiber air tubes that covered the suit like skinny veins all over. As the suits were very form-fitting and designed for supreme athletic use, nothing could get in the way of comfort and durability. Which was why the scuba gear on the suits were highly advanced, as was the resin in the armor meant to block blades as well as bullets and even partially explosive-proof. Only to an extent, of course.
He tested a few diagnostics, and a couple of small lights turned on in several parts of the suit before he turned it off again. He did this for all four of the suits. Meanwhile, Forty-three was examining his staff, which seemed to be made of either pure silver or some kind of alloy similar to it. Attached in the lunar crescent-shaped tip of it was a crystal of aether, which laid dormant and unlit. It was rather plain from an outsider’s point of view, but in fact the staff was extremely efficient.
“These gadgets are not necessarily sensitive to being left alone. They are durable for a reason after all.†Jonathan murmured to Forty-three in private. “But I do not like the fact that we have not even tested this batch of equipment yet. It is something that I expected to do on this vessel. But the element of trust did not initially exist on this vessel and still doesn’t to a point.â€
“Mmm.†Forty-three murmured in thought while listening to his conversation, then deciding to chime in his own input with a mild sigh. “Any group of individuals that appear strange and abnormal and simply not what anyone is used to are bound to be difficult to earn trust for. It is the nature of our line of work – we do what we do because it has to be done, but it is something that the common man would perhaps call… a little suspicious.â€
Jonathan shrugged a little, handling the suits with the expertise of even a seamstress, checking for anything wrong with the threading. “When I was a lad the term normal was vastly different than what the simple Vlyibrand bumhead would call normal. My definition of normal was watching men in black march down the neighboring road of my community and drag away secrets. Nay, these people aboard this vessel are as abnormal as we are, just in a different way. Ain’t a damn one of us cosigning to simple lives any time soon. But the point that has to be driven home is that we cannot live divided if we ever hope to defend ourselves, and our homes. For all of us. â€
Ryanti overheard a few words from their conversation, but they didn’t exactly register. He was too deep within his own thoughts. Those thoughts were like a whirling torrent, and he kept himself busy by tending to the weapons in order to not be swept away by the current. Despite the incredibly complicated make of the rifle that he held with both of his hands, it was rather simple to take apart. Squeeze a pin here. Unlatch there. Snapping sounds were heard as the weapon opened up to him. Mechanical pieces bending to his will. Ryanti was a natural at adopting. It was one of the many reasons why he was brought into the covert program. There were other reasons, of course. He had dreamed of a better world, a world without croaky old wooden houses, tarnished ale in an unclean glass and chocobo stables stinking up yet another povery-rotten neighborhood. But at the heart of all that lied a simple calling. A desire to better society. To better people. To live to his full potential… and to be the hand to save lost souls from the storm.
It was at this time that Eighty-five had sat next to him, casually taking apart as small revolver as Ryanti took apart the larger weapon. At first, she hummed quietly, like a mother would while sewing or washing the clothes. But then the humming stopped, and Ryanti flicked his eyes towards her once or twice while doing his own thing. Suddenly, she spoke, and the words seem to come out of nowhere yet… Ryanti was expecting them.
“The stuff you said back there. About the Bloodsands, and the fool. That’s all true, isn’t it?†She finally said, the little smile on her face hiding from the fact that it was a difficult question for her to ask, as she was not sure how Seventy-seven would react to such a probe. But Ryanti didn’t really seem all that affected by her asking. Maybe he knew that it was inevitable that someone asked. He had always noticed that despite being the class clown, Eighty-five was always extremely observant of everything going on around her to an insane degree. It was part of the reason why she had made the cut too. Ryanti answered her with a slight smile back, the kind of smile that was impossible to hide. “Maybe.â€
“Ahhhh..†The young lady said back, her voice trailing off near the end of her response as she tinkered a bit with the revolving component of the piece, spinning it back into place. She then wiped the gun with a microfiber cloth that also was from the crate before setting it back down inside of it. In its place, she picked up the second rifle as Ryanti placed the first rifle down and got himself a revolver to clean. As Eighty-five was scraping the sea salt off of the inner barrel of that rifle, she spoke again. “It makes so much sense now. Heheh. Everything.†She mentioned. Less was more in the case of her statement. Ryanti slowed down a little bit after hearing that, seemingly staring at nothing.
“It’s kind of simpler than you would think, actually. Y’know?†Eighty-five chimed in to wake the young man up, who found it hard to look at the woman now so he kept his focus on the weapon he held in his hands. He tilted the gun a few times in his soft grip, watching as the rays of sunlight danced off of his fingernails, his knuckles, and the metallic glean of the pistol. These were not hands of a sailor. At all.
“I mean… “ Eighty-five continued on, with a little happy sigh as she inspected the firing pin, running a cloth about the stock of the rifle. “All you really have to do, is just… stay alive. Stay alive long enough.â€
Ryanti lifted up the weapon and looked down the iron sights, pointing the end of the barrel outside of the window, and closing one eye to test how it felt in his hands. The last time he made a pose like that with the weapon, he had killed someone. But having committed that act did not make him lose his soul. Not in the least.
He glanced back at Eighty-five rather timidly. He knew what she was talking about, and there was enough gesture in his posture to suggest to her that he was listening, which made her smirk a little. “Stay alive long enough to show her that you won’t ever end up being just… like… taken away from this world in a blink of an eye, and if you were ever to be taken away from this world prematurely that.. you wouldn’t go down so easy. That you would always live. Y’know?â€
Ryanti eyed her for a brief moment longer, setting the revolver down into the crate and slowly pulling out his own pair of Sharlayan goggles. He paced his thumbs along the metal of the device, glancing at his reflection in the lenses of the very special piece of equipment.
He heard the sound of Eighty-five placing the weapon back into the crate. “And stop trying to figure out what she bloody likes, yeah? I mean, you come up with P’welro’s little thing in like, what, an hour? Then you get on hers and it’s like you spend friggin’ days on it. ‘Cause you’re not trying to be yourself with it. I mean, that’s your best bet. To be yourself. So start over on the thing and just be you, yeah?â€
Ryanti let out what sounded to be a mix of a sigh and a little chuckle. He was slightly embarrassed. But he had nothing to say to it. His eyes were a little heavy at this point though. His cleaning had become very slow with the lenses. Even now he glanced at those lenses and wondered how weird these damn things seemed. How weird he first looked in those sailor clothes. The thought came back to him, a thought he had on the first day: What the hell am I doing here? But then he recalled how much he felt like he belonged back in the mess hall. Maybe it wasn’t so weird… maybe he wasn’t.
“After all, you don’t want her to think of herself every time she looks at it after you give it to her, right?†Eighty-five had said just then.
Ryanti paused. His lips tightened, and he closed his eyes. His index finger and thumb pinched on both sides of his nose, where his eyes were. His ears moved, and Ryanti very rarely moved his ears. They had sunk down a little bit, but then sprung up softly, like a dandelion would in the early morning breeze.
To bend to the torrent, and then to rise again.
He eyed the reflection of himself in the right lense, slightly turning the goggles to capture Eighty-five’s image of herself in the left lense. It was the only way he could look at her at the moment. “Thank you, Eighty-five.†He murmured, with a renewed sparkle in his eye. She obliged him by staring into the lenses as well, leaning a little over and mused at the gadget. “Nah. It’s nothing. But hey, during –these- kinds of conversation, call me K’leura, okay?†She said in the quietest voice. “Sshh. Only Jada knows!â€
Ryanti blinked his eyes a few times in momentary shock. It was absolutely against the rules to betray your name to your partner or to anyone that you work with on duty. It was a golden rule. THE rule. But… one thing the Sharlayan Government did not understand was the capacity for the operatives to be people. With feelings and emotions like everyone else. “And you can call me Ryanti, then.†He said back to her. “And only Sounsyy knows.â€
_______
Garlean Exploratory Naval Vessel: The Ganesha
Exploratory Coordinate 44-7C
0830 Hours
Exploratory Coordinate 44-7C
0830 Hours
They had set a blistering pace and matched it with awe. Their Ceruleum engine had soared them through the defiant waters of the Indigo Deep, and despite the remarkable distance, they arrived to the target sight before the Lominsan Levy ever would have dreamed to sail in the amount of time they had been on the water.
The main deck of the vessel was bustling and alive. All men were on hand, standing in unison of two large rows that spanned the entire walkway from the fore to the aft. Their weapons were positioned in a parade rest, their gaze ever forward. A red quilted carpet had been laid down in a celebratory manner. This was done with the utmost behest, due in part to the moral of the Garleans. It was time to claim what was rightfully theirs.
The doors from the bridge parted open, revealing the Insidious Tribunus Terminus Sas Garvus, and his equally diabolical second-in-command Primus Cynthia Silverstien. The eyes of the Tribunus crawled their way from his left to his right, and then back again, thoroughly inspecting his awaiting Manipulus as they stood to honor his presence. Cynthia adjusted her glassed to the sun, carrying with her the all too subtle devilish smirk of a woman in power, and addicted to power as if it were her lover. The additional power she craved would come to her if this mission was a success, but her hunger would never be sated.
An optimal associate in the mind of Terminus, as they were all seeking a greater power that day. A power that would not only provide the Garlean Emperor with the means to rule the world with an iron fist, but also an opportunity to return to the world to the glorious, prosperous years it had once before, in a time so long ago that the populace had been completely and utterly daft of such an outcome for several millennia. No longer.
The duo slowly made their way out onto the deck, the Manipulus holding their posture until the Tribunal passed, where they would then hold their weapons up to safe port. Each of them were competing to see who could make the perfect posture, and position their weapon with such a snap that the man would notice. He took no head in turning his head to any of the men, however. The men as a result did not show any case of emotion in disappointment, for there was no reason to be with their results they were making so far.
They were making their way towards the foreside of the vessel where an Imperial probing machine had been sitting idle only for a few moments. A mere twenty minutes beforehand, it had emerged from the waters of the indigo after having completed a routine scan of the ocean floor. No anomaly was to hide from its ability to detect in the deep blue seas. The Garleans did not need a sixth sense to discover such things; they could do everything they set out for completely on their own.
The aether-dependant Tribunal paced towards the probe with heavy steps, completely disguising the sly ones made by the woman beside him. He narrowed his eyes at the machine that hovered above him, still dripping from it water of the ocean that sparkled in the early morning sunlight. The men on deck watched him as he issued a few input commands into the droid, which resulted in the machine booting an image on its screen that described a large portion of the ocean floor to the imposing man. As he dug through the information, he found what he was looking for. There was a massive unnatural shape near the bottom of the waters of where they were. Excellent. It must have been it. This must be it.
The man slowly spun around to address his people. His cape flowed like a dying curtain of the final act, his right arm raising in front of him in a method of addressing. A tiny blue light ignited upon his rebreather, a microphone function. His voice boomed across the deck as he spoke in the tone of a rough and commanding fashion. “The scouting venture has proven a success! Right at this moment we lie directly above our objective! Henceforth, starting today we will be committing all of our resources to mining those lost treasures that rest deep at the bottom of this ocean until we have explored and attained everything of interest! May the arms of man embrace its long lost treasure!â€
The voices of the men on deck drowned out his last few syllables. His piercing eyes smiled for him as two staffers immediately began to roll the red carpet back, while the departing rows advanced back to their duties in single file one by one. Lights flickered. Machines booted. It was beginning of their conquest. *His* conquest.
Within the midst of his thoughts, he had pulled out his holographic piece once more. Upon activating it, the blurry image hovered above the contraption, and he looked down upon it with ambitious eyes. It was a holographic image of the Starship as it had been over five thousand years ago. It was a small vessel comparing it to other space-faring Allagan models, but it was still many times more massive than an average military naval vessel. The miniature blueprint spun around in a slow idle as the equally ambitious woman beside him glanced upon the contraption with an image of wonder in her eyes.
“That is it, then?†She said to him, briefly taking off her glasses to examine them with a more authentic perspective. “It’s wondrous... unbelievable.â€
“Yes. This is what we will find underneath. Though it may have decomposed over thousands of years in a dark pit of salt water and grime, time and erosion was nothing to ancient Allag. Foes long vanquished.†He eyed the woman with what could be confused by others as an angry glare, but it was only the image of the Tribunal being… excited. “After our gambit, perhaps time will no longer be an enemy of Garlemald’s either.â€
“Of course, your Excellency.†Miss Silverstein said in reply, bowing her head down to the man.
“Sir!†One of the watchers upon the ship suddenly cried out. The Tribunal did not flinch, a bit of aetherical dust emerging from his outfit as he took a large breath from his oxigenified mask. The young man of brunette hair and blue eyes ran up to the Commander, greeting him with a swift Garlean salute. “Foreign vessel spotted to the Southeast of us! Over the Horizon, coming into view now sir! Colors suggest an Eorzean vessel, Limsan Lominsian specifically sir!â€
The Commander made a scoffing sound, which muffled underneath his rebreather as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard. A foreign vessel here? In the midst of territorial waters? Eorzea? With an annoying hmph, his words pierced through his mask. “Hand me your tool, watcher.†With that being an order, the watcher complied, allowing the Commander access to the augmented spying glass which was trapezoid in shape.
Terminus paced himself over to the side of the ship, equipping the goggles up to his face and activating them. With a light hum he was able to zoom in on the area in particular. He made a few horizontal swipes across the horizon, at first seeing nothing. But the man was patient and would not be so quickly to dismiss a threat. With a few more sweeps, he spotted it. It looked like a smaller vessel... a quick one. However, it had no banister, and possessed no flag. There was no obvious way of identifying the ship. “Tell me watcher. How did you surmise that this was an Eorzean vessel?â€
“O-oh. Of course. I merely recognize the intricacies. The pattern of the wood work, sir. I was born in Vlyibrand, and I recognize the wood-make as a vessel from that area sir.†The watcher mentioned, with another salute.
“… Why is it by itself?†He asked out loud, moreso to himself than anyone. Cynthia could not see what he was seeing, but already her face had contorted into a suspicious pose. She was sick and tired of Eorzea, and the fact that there was a possibility of dealing with yet another bloody damn savage skirmish annoyed her deeply.
Terminus himself was equally suspicious of it being alone. “Regardless of its origin, it has sailed way beyond their petty little coastal waters. It has no business being out here. No excuse. Any behavior they exhibit is sure to be hostile to our cause.†He handed the goggles back to the watcher, pointing his finger at him sharply. “Notify the Artillerist to fire a warning shot in their direction!â€
The watcher gave his yes sirs as he turned to the woman that accompanied him. “Round up the Easterling ships, instruct the Easterlings to circle about our flanks and make it clear to them that I do not want a foreign pair of eyes to even glimpse on our operations here!â€
The woman scrunched her brow a bit in the man’s order, raising one eyebrow right after. “Do you... plan on engaging regardless of their response to our warning shot?â€
Terminus stood still for a moment, and then turned his back to her. “Precisely. Their pity little fleet will not save them out here in these waters, neither will their nations have a right to plead a case of a lost vessel. No amount of foreign subterfuge will be allowed in this operation.†He murmured, before a waiting a tad as Cynthia organized her thoughts and wrapped her head around it. “Why are you still standing here!?!?â€
“Yes sir. Right away sir!†Cynthia chimed in a firm response, letting out a little breath of stress in a moment of weakness before stealing her gaze, off to give orders to the Easterlings. Men two and fro began to yell across the deck, arming the ship and placing it into battle mode. Soon, the Easterling ships would be aggressively sailing as well.
“I need more aether…†The Commander rumbled to himself, finding his way back inside.