[hider=Rice Wine from Anhui]
Sporting a thin, passive grin, Mei Yuanyuan gazed out her window at hurried soldiers jogging through the concrete square beneath her. From so many stories up, they appeared so miniscule. These ants had an energy to them, a spring in their step. The propaganda had worked too well, it seemed. She entertained the thought of breaking the glass, reaching out her fingers, and flattening the insects underneath her palm. The concept amused her.

Notably, one soldier carried a large crate of ammunition. He bumped into his senior officer, and the cartridges inside scattered on the ground like sand particles. She heard the shouts of the man's superior through the windowpane. The culminating slap put a little tooth in her smile. She could watch these minions for days, and likely would have were she not in the presence of...
Cao Bao spit out his drink, the clear liquid splattering on the floor. He sniffed his glass. "Putrid stuff."

Mei glanced back, peering at him with the corner of her eye. She shared a rather casual enclosure with him, complete with sofas, a sink station, and a low wooden coffee table. "What, did you think they'd save the world's finest for the waiting room of a squalid, overcrowded naval base?"

"Fair point." Bao commented. He dumped the remnant in a local sink and casually rinsed it. He closed his eyes momentarily and tried to focus. He held out his hands, and a tinted bottle materialized, its bottom in his left and its neck in his right. He popped open the cork and refilled his cup. "Want some?"

"Well, what is it?"

Bao held up the bottle. A couple handwritten characters comprised the entire label. "Rice wine."

"So that's your power? Fabrication?"

"No, it's to claim from the farmer who made it." Bao fetched another cup and inspected it for cleanliness.

"Can you return it to its proper place?"

Bao set the glass on a table beside Yuanyuan, and his bottle closer to himself. "It's sixteen hours' drive to Anhui Province."
Then the stolen goods weren't returnable. The theft couldn't be helped, Mei surmised. "Very well; pour me a glass."

Master Cao stretched out his hands, and a second bottle blipped into existence. He popped its cork and poured Yuanyuan her beverage.

"Sharing was acceptable," Yuanyuan commented.

Bao grabbed the first bottle by the neck, holding his free hand over his heart. "This is my bottle. You get your own."

"That's some farmer's belongings!" Yuanyuan exclaimed.

"He was zīchǎn jiējí de, anyways," Bao defended. "Who else pays for this quality of rice wine?" He took a sip from his glass. "Honestly, he probably drunk it already. Boy, that's good, that is."

"What do you mean, 'drunk it already'?"

Bao shook his head. "Enjoy the wine. Forget I said anything."

Mei's attention was once again drawn away to the frenzy of logistics. "So, they just sent me cash and assigned me to station here. They weren't fully transparent about the details. Who exactly are we fighting?"

"Arms Masters," Bao stated. Whether he didn't know either or simply refused to elaborate was up to speculation.

A knock came from the door to the room. Mei arose to answer it. A bespectacled man stood in the doorway and gave a curt bow. "This is the waiting room, correct?"

"Yes..." Mei responded hesitantly. "And who are you?"

"Excellent!" the man announced. "I hoped to indulge myself in certain relaxations in the time between fronts." He found himself a sofa and kicked up onto it.

Mei closed the door but remained at the doorway. The man was confident enough to possess answers, whether or not those answers were accurate. "Do you know where we're going, what we're doing?"

"Certainly!" the stranger answered. "From what I've heard, there's an individual who's established shop in the South China Sea and claims to be heir to the most recent imperial dynasty."

"They can handle the entire world thrown against them," Bao elaborated, "but they can't stand a challenge to their power from within."

"And they don't want to drum up support among any disgruntled ranks?" Mei queried.

"Precisely; that's why talk of this has been limited to the uppermost echelons of command," the man affirmed. "Everyone is ordered to prepare for something, but they organize in the dark." He inspected the writing on one of Bao's bottles. "Rice wine! May I?"

"So what preparations do we need to make?" asked Mei.

Bao turned around to face her. "Does your Noble Arm require ammunition?"

"Not particularly."

"Or recharge?"

"I don't think so."

"You're fine," Bao callously assured, returning to his normal posture.

Mei returned to the window while the man with glasses served himself. Her fingers touched the pane while she watched perhaps a tad more closely. Crates of guns were offloaded, but in half a dozen different models and makes. The soldiers practicing drills in the square kept their heads down towards the pavement as they stepped in rhythm. The boats that were currently being loaded... the sloop she bore as her Noble Arm was twice as capable as each of them.

She realized that these weren't soldiers. This was fodder, meant as a mere distraction while the loyal and treasonous Masters duked it out amongst each other. Thousands were going to die for a small scrap of sand in the South China Sea, even to an unsure outcome.

Yuanyuan stretched. Oh well. Ants die; that's the nature of ants. She wasn't paid to fret over such trivialities. She routed to fetch a third glass, then filled her new cup with her old bottle. "Gentlemen, this gathering deserves a toast. To our success in... What's our target?"

"They call it 'Mischief Reef,' so I recall," the mysterious man replied.

"Then, to victory in Mischief Reef!"
[/hider]