Thread Closed
Offices of Pilus Ulf Rem Hartsblood, The Firmitas, Sea of Jade
“Retreat.†To the Architectus’ ears, Ulf didn’t seem to be fully aware of what he was saying, repeating Virgil’s own statements as if to try out the sound of them, as if the term was new and unfamiliar.
Of course, this was false. The Pilus had been chosen because he understood the value of a judicious retreat, and because the Special Expeditionary Cohort was a delicate project. The standard Garlean doctrine of dominating the landscape and refusing to step back in the form of static defenses like the castri would not work for radically experimental weaponry like the Firmitas and Immersabilis. They had to be willing to assess the situation and fall back as circumstances demanded. And right now, the circumstances didn’t just demand, but hammered on the door, stood outside in protest, and stalked the pair of them to their quarters to leave threatening notes at their doors. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
The Pilus was just such a man. Under his command, several fighting withdrawals that would otherwise have been routs turned into the preludes for successful counterattacks. He was brave, and attacked where it was necessary, but did not waste men needlessly. Surely, Virgil thought, the Pilus was not showing an idiot’s bravery in his confusion.
Perhaps it was the funeral. His last security check on the Eorzean traitors had seen him returning home bearing the body of Upper Citizen Thunderfell and several small injuries of his own. He had foregone treatment in lieu of ordering an immediate burial at sea, with honors befitting a member of the Citizenry. He had not been quite the same the rest of the day. If the Architectus had to think of a similar circumstance, it would be when his first submersible prototype had not withstood pressure, caving in on itself and crushing its pilot. Such a waste of a vessel! Until he’d discovered the error in his calculations, he had been just like Ulf - clearly troubled, but putting up a professional face for the sake of the Empire. A proper response.
This line of thinking made Virgil kinder than would ordinarily be the case. “Yes,†he said, repeating himself. “A retreat. Orders from the Viceroy. The buildup at the Wall is too great a risk, and the island will make an excellent point to project force and restrict the movements of Eorzean naval assets.†That was what the communique had said, anyway.
“I see.†It wasn’t quite dark in the room, which Ulf had chosen to keep in poor lighting, only the dim glow of his table-lights illuminating him. Nor was it quite silent, the hum of the engines which kept the Firmitas afloat proving a constant, droning noise. In better circumstances, Virgil could ignore the noise, but now it seemed to stretch the silence between Ulf’s words from a long one to a vacuum without end. “And the islanders?â€
“Annexed, most likely, by the fleet arriving in force. Thanks to Thunderfell’s actions - Emperor guide her soul - they have all the infrastructure in place for a basic castrum, do they not?†Shelter, farms, industrial equipment. All designed to Garlean tastes, likely with only a few flourishes of the pirates’ own style to be removed. So Ulf’s reports had said to date. “They’ll make an excellent labor force, as well. Non-citizens, of course, but the Viceroy has been more than complimentary of their assistance.â€
The Pilus shifted his weight in his seat. He had not quite been looking at Virgil - not that the Architectus could tell in the dark, not completely - as if his eyes were somewhere as far off as his voice, his mind remaining only to check in with them on the events in the room. “They will likely resist.â€
Here, his voice helped him. It didn’t imply objection on those grounds. A mere statement of fact. Virgil could handle facts, if not insubordination. “Trivial,†he said, loftily. “Half a squadron of scattered pirate ships? Hardly a challenge. And your notes on the defenses are thorough correct?†Virgil lowered his head, regarding Pilus with his third eye. “Correct?â€
“...Correct.†Virgil relaxed.
“Good. You’ve done very well for yourself, Pilus Hartsblood. We both have. The submersible is a proven tool for weakening Eorzean coastal defenses, and the Academy was always keen on the Firmitas. It will see deployment in an offensive role in the moons to come, I can assure you of that. Accolades and commendations for us both. And for Thunderfell,†he added, after the silence threatened to stretch again. “Falling in service to the Emperor is a rare gift for the Citizenry, you know. Especially at the hands of barbarians like that.â€
“Yes. I know.â€
Virgil leaned back in his seat, frowning. Perhaps the damage to Ulf had been worse than he’d thought. He had seemed well enough after the funeral, if muted, conferring with his officer corps below decks. He made a note to recommend the Pilus be watched upon their return to home waters, lest this was the beginning of grief turning into madness. Nothing that should have been cheering the Pilus was even rousing a smile, and he liked to think he knew the man well enough by now to know what would cause that, and that was hearing Yga would succeed.
He abandoned his mental calculations, deciding that he had at least made the effort, and that was all any man could do in the Emperor’s service to care for his fellow soldier. As long as the Firmitas didn’t sink on the way home due to its commander’s negligence, all was well. He would not risk the Immersabilis while it remained docked that way. “Mm. Good. Well, then,†he began, rising from his seat and turning to the door. “Recall the gunships on observation. We will sail by nightfall.â€
“No.â€
Ignore it, thought Virgil, his hand near the door’s access panel. Ignore it. It was the petulant remark of a man stricken with grief. There was every reason to believe that it meant nothing, and that the Firmitas would be away from this Glim or whatever and back to true civilization in good time. Ignore it. Ignore it. It doesn’t matter.
“Excuse me?†He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, daring the Pilus to speak again. Daring him to say anything other than “Yes, Architectus.â€
“No.†In the dark, Ulf sat upright in his chair, his hands below the desk. “The Firmitas will stay, and it will assist in the island’s defense. Please return to your quarters, Architectus.â€
Even in dim lighting, the crimson in Virgil’s face was impossible to miss. Nevertheless, he tried restraint. “Pilus Hartsblood, while I understand the desire to show the power of this vessel, the reinforcing fleet surely has it well in hand. The islanders will fall, and - “
The droning hum exploded. Well, it seemed to. A short, sharp k-krack of a noise and a flash of light from beneath Hartsblood’s desk. Something in the air vents? Maintenance ought to check on that. The lighting he couldn’t explain, but -
The pain caught up to Virgil’s mind before he could take full sensory stock and convince himself that, truly, he hadn’t just been shot in the leg from the other side of the desk. A veteran of battles conducted at the academy and not on the field, he took it as well as could be expected - collapsing on the floor in a keening wail and clutching the injured foreleg in the vain hope of keeping too much blood from escaping.
“Architectus, for your own safety, you will be confined to quarters.†Ulf rose, discarding his magitek bagnakh, a faint wisp of smoke trailing from its barrel and seeming all the brighter in his office. “My centurions will see to your comfort momentarily - this moment excepted,†he added, before pressing his hand to his ear. “As we planned,†he said. “Please confine any dissenters to quarters under guard. We will exchange them as prisoners at a later date.â€
There was more, Virgil was sure. The pilus - no, the traitor, he amended, wondered why he amended anything, then remembered to amend that this didn’t matter he was dying - would place his boot on his chest and torture him. Get everything he knew. He would stand as firm as he could. He had failed utterly in detecting this rank betrayal, but he would die honoring the secrets of the Emperor.
But Ulf did not rise, and he did not place his boot on Virgil’s chest. He returned to his seat, and folded his hands together. “Now, Architectus,†he said, in the same far-off voice. “Tell me everything you can about Dagon. What it is. How it operates. Where to find it. And how to use it. Tell me all of this - “
“To hell with you, Hartsblood, to hell with you and every man on your - “
“Or I will load the Immersabilis with ceruleum and scuttle it,†finished Ulf.
It was a very fast interrogation.
“Retreat.†To the Architectus’ ears, Ulf didn’t seem to be fully aware of what he was saying, repeating Virgil’s own statements as if to try out the sound of them, as if the term was new and unfamiliar.
Of course, this was false. The Pilus had been chosen because he understood the value of a judicious retreat, and because the Special Expeditionary Cohort was a delicate project. The standard Garlean doctrine of dominating the landscape and refusing to step back in the form of static defenses like the castri would not work for radically experimental weaponry like the Firmitas and Immersabilis. They had to be willing to assess the situation and fall back as circumstances demanded. And right now, the circumstances didn’t just demand, but hammered on the door, stood outside in protest, and stalked the pair of them to their quarters to leave threatening notes at their doors. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
The Pilus was just such a man. Under his command, several fighting withdrawals that would otherwise have been routs turned into the preludes for successful counterattacks. He was brave, and attacked where it was necessary, but did not waste men needlessly. Surely, Virgil thought, the Pilus was not showing an idiot’s bravery in his confusion.
Perhaps it was the funeral. His last security check on the Eorzean traitors had seen him returning home bearing the body of Upper Citizen Thunderfell and several small injuries of his own. He had foregone treatment in lieu of ordering an immediate burial at sea, with honors befitting a member of the Citizenry. He had not been quite the same the rest of the day. If the Architectus had to think of a similar circumstance, it would be when his first submersible prototype had not withstood pressure, caving in on itself and crushing its pilot. Such a waste of a vessel! Until he’d discovered the error in his calculations, he had been just like Ulf - clearly troubled, but putting up a professional face for the sake of the Empire. A proper response.
This line of thinking made Virgil kinder than would ordinarily be the case. “Yes,†he said, repeating himself. “A retreat. Orders from the Viceroy. The buildup at the Wall is too great a risk, and the island will make an excellent point to project force and restrict the movements of Eorzean naval assets.†That was what the communique had said, anyway.
“I see.†It wasn’t quite dark in the room, which Ulf had chosen to keep in poor lighting, only the dim glow of his table-lights illuminating him. Nor was it quite silent, the hum of the engines which kept the Firmitas afloat proving a constant, droning noise. In better circumstances, Virgil could ignore the noise, but now it seemed to stretch the silence between Ulf’s words from a long one to a vacuum without end. “And the islanders?â€
“Annexed, most likely, by the fleet arriving in force. Thanks to Thunderfell’s actions - Emperor guide her soul - they have all the infrastructure in place for a basic castrum, do they not?†Shelter, farms, industrial equipment. All designed to Garlean tastes, likely with only a few flourishes of the pirates’ own style to be removed. So Ulf’s reports had said to date. “They’ll make an excellent labor force, as well. Non-citizens, of course, but the Viceroy has been more than complimentary of their assistance.â€
The Pilus shifted his weight in his seat. He had not quite been looking at Virgil - not that the Architectus could tell in the dark, not completely - as if his eyes were somewhere as far off as his voice, his mind remaining only to check in with them on the events in the room. “They will likely resist.â€
Here, his voice helped him. It didn’t imply objection on those grounds. A mere statement of fact. Virgil could handle facts, if not insubordination. “Trivial,†he said, loftily. “Half a squadron of scattered pirate ships? Hardly a challenge. And your notes on the defenses are thorough correct?†Virgil lowered his head, regarding Pilus with his third eye. “Correct?â€
“...Correct.†Virgil relaxed.
“Good. You’ve done very well for yourself, Pilus Hartsblood. We both have. The submersible is a proven tool for weakening Eorzean coastal defenses, and the Academy was always keen on the Firmitas. It will see deployment in an offensive role in the moons to come, I can assure you of that. Accolades and commendations for us both. And for Thunderfell,†he added, after the silence threatened to stretch again. “Falling in service to the Emperor is a rare gift for the Citizenry, you know. Especially at the hands of barbarians like that.â€
“Yes. I know.â€
Virgil leaned back in his seat, frowning. Perhaps the damage to Ulf had been worse than he’d thought. He had seemed well enough after the funeral, if muted, conferring with his officer corps below decks. He made a note to recommend the Pilus be watched upon their return to home waters, lest this was the beginning of grief turning into madness. Nothing that should have been cheering the Pilus was even rousing a smile, and he liked to think he knew the man well enough by now to know what would cause that, and that was hearing Yga would succeed.
He abandoned his mental calculations, deciding that he had at least made the effort, and that was all any man could do in the Emperor’s service to care for his fellow soldier. As long as the Firmitas didn’t sink on the way home due to its commander’s negligence, all was well. He would not risk the Immersabilis while it remained docked that way. “Mm. Good. Well, then,†he began, rising from his seat and turning to the door. “Recall the gunships on observation. We will sail by nightfall.â€
“No.â€
Ignore it, thought Virgil, his hand near the door’s access panel. Ignore it. It was the petulant remark of a man stricken with grief. There was every reason to believe that it meant nothing, and that the Firmitas would be away from this Glim or whatever and back to true civilization in good time. Ignore it. Ignore it. It doesn’t matter.
“Excuse me?†He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, daring the Pilus to speak again. Daring him to say anything other than “Yes, Architectus.â€
“No.†In the dark, Ulf sat upright in his chair, his hands below the desk. “The Firmitas will stay, and it will assist in the island’s defense. Please return to your quarters, Architectus.â€
Even in dim lighting, the crimson in Virgil’s face was impossible to miss. Nevertheless, he tried restraint. “Pilus Hartsblood, while I understand the desire to show the power of this vessel, the reinforcing fleet surely has it well in hand. The islanders will fall, and - “
The droning hum exploded. Well, it seemed to. A short, sharp k-krack of a noise and a flash of light from beneath Hartsblood’s desk. Something in the air vents? Maintenance ought to check on that. The lighting he couldn’t explain, but -
The pain caught up to Virgil’s mind before he could take full sensory stock and convince himself that, truly, he hadn’t just been shot in the leg from the other side of the desk. A veteran of battles conducted at the academy and not on the field, he took it as well as could be expected - collapsing on the floor in a keening wail and clutching the injured foreleg in the vain hope of keeping too much blood from escaping.
“Architectus, for your own safety, you will be confined to quarters.†Ulf rose, discarding his magitek bagnakh, a faint wisp of smoke trailing from its barrel and seeming all the brighter in his office. “My centurions will see to your comfort momentarily - this moment excepted,†he added, before pressing his hand to his ear. “As we planned,†he said. “Please confine any dissenters to quarters under guard. We will exchange them as prisoners at a later date.â€
There was more, Virgil was sure. The pilus - no, the traitor, he amended, wondered why he amended anything, then remembered to amend that this didn’t matter he was dying - would place his boot on his chest and torture him. Get everything he knew. He would stand as firm as he could. He had failed utterly in detecting this rank betrayal, but he would die honoring the secrets of the Emperor.
But Ulf did not rise, and he did not place his boot on Virgil’s chest. He returned to his seat, and folded his hands together. “Now, Architectus,†he said, in the same far-off voice. “Tell me everything you can about Dagon. What it is. How it operates. Where to find it. And how to use it. Tell me all of this - “
“To hell with you, Hartsblood, to hell with you and every man on your - “
“Or I will load the Immersabilis with ceruleum and scuttle it,†finished Ulf.
It was a very fast interrogation.
Verad Bellveil's Profile | The Case of the Ransacked Rug | Verad's Fate Sheet
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine
Current Fate-14 Storyline:Â Merchant, Marine