[h3]Back-alley Bickering[/h3] Cowritten by Bingelly and InfamousGuy101 [h3][b]Port District – Airship Docks[/b][/h3] By the time Itzi reached the docks, the situation had drastically changed. The port had been overtaken by soldiers standing guard in clusters along the piers, rifles slung and glares vigilant. The airship remained where it had been moored, but it was no longer their responsibility. The impromptu crew had been pulled off the ship and now lingered nearby. Itzi slowed her pace as she approached, her eyes scanning the scene. A tightness settled in her chest and for a moment, she just stood there taking it in. Maybe Carter had been right. Maybe they weren’t getting paid or worse, maybe whatever they did get would be a pathetic sum compared to what they had hauled out of that damned place. Risking their lives only to get a dismissal dressed as compensation, her jaw tightened at the thought. “…Figures,” she muttered under her breath. Her gaze lingered on the ship again in continued thought, that was when she noticed the movement of someone approaching. Itzi’s eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as she focused. Mitunbaal. "Salutations, Miss Ku," the Shariq woman said once she was close enough. She immediately stifled a yawn, hiding it delicately with her hand. Mitunbaal was in fresh clothing, and was clearly more comfortable for it. She had found a reasonably quality heavy dark dress, though she wore a cream jacket over top of it. Her usual light-weight cover was replaced a red-head scarf. The woman's gait, however, was sluggish. Her eyes were slow as she looked towards the scene in front of her, bouncing between the uniformed men and the scattered crew and Mittelandische detachment present. "Something must have happened for all those soldiers to be here," she thought aloud, "I hope nothing grave happened while I was out." Itzi pursed her lips at Mitunbaal’s words, her eyes briefly drifting back toward the airship and the soldiers surrounding it. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then she exhaled lightly through her nose. “…Looks like things finally went to blows over that gold,” she said, voice flat. Her arms crossed loosely as she shifted her weight to one leg, gaze still scanning the scene rather than settling fully on Mitunbaal. “Next to war,” she continued, “greed and pride make men do the worst kinds of things it seems...” She paused, “I’d like to think a world run by us would be better,” she added, almost as an aside, “but…” she gave a small shake of her head, “…I doubt it.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, “Truth be told,” Itzi went on, “I can’t really blame Carter for what he did.” "Pardon my ignorance, " Mitunbaal quietly admitted, "What exactly happened with Mister Carter?" Itzi glanced at her briefly, then back toward the ship. “…Carter tried to take some of the gold,” she said, keeping it simple. “He talked to me about it before,” she continued, “Said it was about taking a fair share for the people aboard... and for the families of the crew he lost before all this.” Itzi’s jaw tightened slightly, “I already had a feeling we weren’t going to see much out of this,” she admitted. “Not anything close to what we pulled out of there.” “Now?” she added quietly, “I’m pretty sure of it.” "It wasn't our gold, Ms. Ku," Mitunbaal replied bluntly. Her voice was tired, but the disappointment dripped through it. Patronizing, like a mother speaking to a child. "Nor was it Ms. Spyroe's gold to promise or imply that we should have sequestered some away for ourselves. Custospada was not a bank. Every bar and every bullion coin that we rescued from that fort has a crest stamped on them that denotes who owned them." Itzi’s expression hardened almost immediately. She let out a quiet breath through her nose. “That’s a nice way of putting it,” she said, tone somber at first "but it doesn’t mean much to the people who actually had to go in there and drag it out.” Her arms crossed tighter and her tone of voice started to edge. “Most of us didn’t have to be there,” Itzi continued, “No oath, banner, or grand loyalty to your continent or anyone on it. I sure as hell don’t. I’ve got people back home and that’s where my concerns starts and end!” “And if it wasn’t for us,” she went on, pointing toward the ship, “that gold wouldn’t have made it out at all. It would’ve stayed buried in that fortress, and taken by someone else.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at the Shariq, she didn't back down. “By the time we got our hands on it, it wasn’t sitting neatly in some vault under lock and key,” she said, “It was in the middle of a damn war zone. No guards, no ledger, no one keeping count. Just whoever had the nerve to take it and live long enough to carry it. And don’t tell me someone would’ve noticed,” Itzi added. “One crate gone? Out of everything we hauled? Who’s checking that? Who’s going to prove it, and to who?” Her tone softened a bit, recomposing herself but her font turned to a scowl. “So forgive me if I don’t buy that line about what we’re supposed to deserve,” she finished, "Because from where I’m standing, the only reason any of that gold is here at all… is because we decided to risk our necks for it." "It did matter, or should matter, to most of us, are you and Mister Carter so blind to the people around you that you failed to see that?" Mitunbaal retorted, "I am Imburian, Miss Spyroe is Imburian, Lord Naesandoral is Imburian, Captain Andreaou and Lieutenant Kasros are Imburian. Private Robertson and Miss Ferriari are in service of Imbur. Need I go on?" Despite it all, her tone remained calm as she glared at the Iktani. The foreigner from another continent profiteering from Mitunbaal's country suffering "And it may not have mattered who would check it or who would prove criminality because we'd know we stole it, you damned fool. Whatever God or Gods your people worship would know as well. Could you live with that?" Her hand twitched closer to her belt as she glared at the woman, but moved to put her back against the wall behind her. The texture of the brickwork rubbed against the softness of her coat as she closed an angle of approach. "Were you not raised decently enough to believe that stealing is a sin? Or is your and that Mainer's entire continent so godless, so waylaid by avarice, that neither of you care? That gold was not some treasure cache left by some long-dead pirate whose victims were lost to time like in some childish pulp novel. It was a portion of the Imperial Treasury of my nation; a nation fighting a war not yet lost." It is not about what is believed to be fair, or what one believes they deserved as compensation for their labor. It is about legality and morality, Miss Ku. It is unfortunate that we could not have settled the matter of compensation before landing, but my government is indisposed at the moment. A clerk does not steal from his employer's till while negotiating his salary." Itzi just stared at her at first it, like she was weighing whether any of it was even worth answering. But as Mitunbaal went on, that restraint wore thinner and thinner, until what remained was something colder. “You’re talking about nations,” Itzi said, “Service, duty, gods. I didn’t grow up with any of that.” “I grew up with nothing,” she continued. “You worked, or you didn’t eat. You took what chances you got, or someone else did. That’s the world I come from.” “So no,” she added, “I don’t have the luxury of standing there and talking about sin like it’s something that fills a stomach.” “We pulled that gold out of a grave,” she continued, “A fortress that would’ve swallowed it along with everyone inside. Whatever it meant before that doesn’t change what it became when it was just sitting there waiting for whoever was desperate enough to take it.” “We risked everything for that. Every one of us. And somehow the answer is that we get told to be grateful for whatever scraps get handed down?” A quiet scoff slipped out, "Yeah. Right.” She took a step forward, “You can keep your national pride and your 'morality',” Itzi said flatly, “And your lectures. I’m not the one who needs convincing.” She didn’t wait for a reply as she walked past Mitunbaal with quick pace, shoulders tense, leaving the Shariq where she stood.