Expendable

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

J'eon the Blacksmith

"This temple|fort|sky ship, it is a machine," J'eon asked, studying it carefully. "Silbermine is a idiot|fawn|fool, he does not see its true worth|actual value."

The blacksmith turned to Itxaro. "The king|hoof slasher is no|not as large a fool - this is a treasure he would want|desire. I doubt tribute|bribe|ransom will suffice|satisfy|fill his belly."
At the mention of a sword, he shrugs. "I must/should check/test a blade for such as you."

---

Jack Mallory, X.O.

"The Glen?" Mallory demanded, glancing at the blacksmith. "So, is he with them? Or the Ascendancy? Or is he just happy to have gotten to us first so he can make his own claim on us?"

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

J'eon the Blacksmith

"My family and all who were known to me were taken from me," J'eon said, unsure how much the thought mage could explain to the sky person. "And I was sold to a miller, to turn the millstone so that he might grind grain into flour."

"When I freed myself, I made my way to Mythadia. I had heard of the Blacksmiths' Guild and took myself there, to learn how to control the flame. I was... very sot after," he shrugged, "And I was making up for lost time. I saw little of the world outside the Guild's gates."

"In my travels since, I've not met Lord Silbermine, but from what i have seen this day, I do not believe he is thinking straight. It is like the fever that grips many a buck in spring, pushing them to fight."

"How he has gone unchallenged for so long, I dare not venture."

---

Jack Mallory, X.O.

"I'm not against communication," Mallory sighs. How could someone so clever be so unworldly? "But can they teach us their language so we can converse with them directly?"

The idea of these cervitaurs taking apart the Jo was unthinkable - but then so was magic. But would magic protect them from radiation sickness? Or a nuclear explosion if the reactors overloaded? This contested border they were on would be worth nothing to either side for many generations of their people.

But how to explain it to this lord? If they claimed it was a mystical flame, he might want it as proof of divinity, even as it slowly killed him and his followers.

"We know what Silbermine wants, what do these others want? Why is it in their interest to protect us? What are they like? What do they believe? Do they have gods, philosophy? We need to understand their culture and religions as much as we need to communicate."

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Jack Mallory, X.O.

Jack blinked, his face wooden. He never expected the captain to undercut his position like this. He came to attention, snapping his heels together.

"As you command," he said, saluting, the old familiar routines coming back to him. "You have the deck and the conn, I stand relieved."

Of course, saluting was not something the Captain's people did. Jack dropped the salute, then spun around with military precision to face the bridge hatch. Opening it, he stepped through and closed it behind him waiting to hear the click of the hatch securing itself. Pain briefly flashed across his face before it firmed.

It was the Fox and Aries Base all over again.

His first step faltered a bit, then he steadied as he headed towards the midships airlock.

The security force, such as it was, was waiting for him by the shuttle hatch. "Captain's orders," he said, his lips thin. If they hadn't heard now, they would soon. He'd been reduced to an errand boy. How many of them would try to gang up on him this time, he wondered?

"Stand by. If we have a situation, rescue Itxaro and Vigdis, that's an order."

Who knows if they would obey it, but Itxaro and Vigdis were necessary for the crew's survival. This wasn't Earth, who knows what sort of messy local situation was going on out there, with them dropped right in the middle?

Slipping into the airlock, he grabbed one of the respirator masks and checked the filters, then slipped it on, adjusting the straps. Holding his hands over the intakes, he sucked in air and felt the mask clamp down on his face, properly sealed. He then checked his pistol, confirming it was loaded with the safety on before slipping it back into its holster.

Cycling the airlock, he stepped into the hanger and looked around it. The hanger was the second-largest compartment on the ship, it would definitely do to temporarily house the civilians. He might even get his cabin back, but the bunk would probably wind up in here.

He made his way to the forward bulkhead until he found the gap the other two must have used to slip outside, and gingerly made his way through to the outside.

The sunlight was so bright, he blinked for a few moments waiting for his eyes to adjust, then saw Itxaro and Vigdis standing further down on the hull with more locals.

What was wrong with these two? Were they so enamored about being on an alien planet with several forms of intelligent life that they forgot how dangerous it was? The risks they were taking not notifying anyone that they were out here, exposed except for Ezra's rifle and drones? What if that Silbermine character decided to take one of them hostage? He didn't have to imagine what sort of damage those antlers would inflict on frail human bodies.

And Itxaro, he could be sure, would relish him coming out here, defying his authority, oblivious to the danger she was putting them all in.

"Itxaro, Vigdis," he called out, his voice flat and slightly muffled by the mask but coming in clear through the headset. He wasn't happy. "What's going on, here?"

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Jack Mallory, X.O.

“Mallory, listen,” Itxaro began into her comm link, “We are all playing nice here, but it is a very precarious situation. If you come out here waving your fucking guns around, it will not end well. Meet us out here if you want, but for our sake, leave the goddamn goon squad behind.”

@Regime Goon

"Itxaro," Mallory scowls as he switches to his headset, waving some red-faced crewman that had just ran into the bridge to stand by. "While it's great that the local chapter meeting of the Itxaro Fan Club has come to see you, nobody remembered to put it on the ███████ calendar!"

There was an expression from the Navy, 'you have the devil to pay'. He'd asked a Navy commander about that once at a conference, and was told that the 'devil' was the longest seam along either side of a wooden ship's keel, and to help keep the water mostly out of the ship, they would 'pay' or stuff the seams with lengths of tarred fiber called 'oakum'. Since the devil was the longest seam, it was cold and miserable work, spent mostly bent over while standing in cold, knee-deep sea water. And right now he wanted to put the both of them on the nastiest job on the ship. Like manually checking the waste piping for every toilet, sink, and shower for leaks. Daily.

"I am very ███████ aware just how precarious our situation is, here," he adds. "And before we have these ███████ fan club meetings, I want to make sure everyone is on the same ███████ page so we don't inadvertently wind up very ███████ dead or carnival attractions in ███████ cages for the rest of our hopefully short, miserable, ███████ lives!"

He knew he had a reputation in the ships he was in as being pious, and the other clueless officers and enlisted took great pleasure in trying to shock him. But when the service outfitted him with the recording system in his head, they had stressed to maintain decorum at all time, as his recordings could be used as evidence in a court-martial. Or in his case, a divorce. And profanity, they had drilled into him, did not reflect the service standards of professionalism. It was hard enough to be sent to study some painting in the ship's library while his superiors held meetings they didn't want to get back to headquarters. But if they never got back to Earth, there would be nobody to review the recordings making note of how many times he said ████ and trying to bleep it away, then have some sadistic upperclassman in the academy torture cadets with remembering that ███████████.

Captains set policy. Executive officers executed that policy and ensured the health, safety, and welfare of the crew. And ████ Itxaro and Vigdis if they didn't understand that.

"Bridge," he ordered. "Now."

His cold, hard eyes flicked towards the now pale crewman standing in the doorway.

"What?"
"Ah, not that important," they smiled wanly. "Ah, I... uh, think I'm needed elsewhere."
"Then get there."

Mallory watched as they fled the bridge, then turned back to the displays. He'd hate to ask Ezra to shoot any of the locals if they tried to stop the two crewmen from returning inside, as that would make their situation worse, most assuredly. But his job was to ensure the safety of the crew.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Jack Mallory, X.O.

"What the...?!" Jack growled, taking in the view from the bridge screens of Itxaro & Vigdis speaking to more of the locals. What were they doing?!?

He grabbed the microphone and switched on the external speakers.

"Itxaro and Vigdis," he said, a note of anger still present in his calm voice, "Return to the inside of the ship. Now!"

He then flipped to the internal All-Hands circuit. "Security detail to the hanger airlock, on the double!"

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

J'eon the Blacksmith

J'eon raised an eyebrow at the newcomers arrival.

"So, we will know the thoughts of the Sky People," he said, laying out his trading blanket. "But they can't get their informed consent. How will the Sky People react to having their thoughts invaded?"

There was also, J'eon mused as he laid out the various tools and blades, the question of understanding those thoughts that were being read. This was the first time they made contact with the Sky People, how would someone used to their own people react to what secrets laid within the minds of these travelers?

---

Jack Mallory, X.O.

"Of course, Captain," Jack nodded, exiting the storeroom, turning towards the bridge, switching circuits. "Ezra, where are these birds? Wotan, can you see these birds?"

With any luck, they might have a recording. He wondered if the system that caught his recordings was running?

He spared the airlock towards the hanger a glance as he walked by. It would make for suitable quarters for their unexpected guests. And now they were getting over their shock, it was the perfect time to start finding out what they could do.

The telescopic ramp had its advantages, to be sure. Not as much room to impress visitors, but it was defensible.

Franc and Stein's Polytechnic Institute (a school for mad scientists)

I dig it, my current concept is formulating around an Ottoman Janissary focused on medical studies/alternatively, potential religious influences and mixes with the steampunk automata aspects. Details coalescing as I dredge up both history and elaborate on it mentally.

@Fading Memory

Very nice! Details really help to sell the concept!

Franc and Stein's Polytechnic Institute (a school for mad scientists)

Basic premise is that the eldest daughter of a marquess and her mother got caught up in an explosion in their border town. Her mother died, but she survived, requiring extensive surgery where the surgeon replaced an arm and eye with her mother's.

One of the nurses helped to console her father, and by the time the daughter was aware of what was going on, they had already married and she had two step-sisters. Her fiancée, having visited her while she was recovering, informed her father that he could not go through with it with her, and her step-mother suggested that perhaps one of her own daughters could become his heir instead?

So she discovers her life has been taken over by this stranger, related by marriage, her father can't bear to look at her, talk about putting her in a nunnery, and the only thing she has to her name, really, is her mother's jewelry - much to the shock of her step mother.

Her escape and route to possible revenge is the school.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

As a mission specialists, not necessary until our arrival on a distant planet, I suspect he might be in one of the cyro tubes, but definitely someone we would need to wake up.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

J'eon the Blacksmith

"An exchange of gifts," grumbled J'eon, watching as Lord Silbermine take the offered pen and toss something of his own back before locking his chest up.

Or did Silbermine see it as something else? A tribute? Or proof of the Sky People's favor?

"I hope for reason, for good relations," the blacksmith rumbled, rubbing his chin. "Why do I fear this will not go well?"

---

Jack Mallory, X.O.

"We set boundaries," Jack stated flatly. "We do not let them inside the ship. Those giant armed deer guys can't fit, but they must be murder on open plains and roads. However, the others aren't much bigger than we are, so we have to make it clear they're not allowed inside until we're ready for them."

"With everything that's happened, the hanger will have to do. We'll put up a table, the flags, all the bunting we can find - but we install a defensive barrier of some sort to keep them away from the airlock," he stated. "It'll hopefully avoid any rushes and give us a position should there be an attack." Like flamethrower attacks from that burning tree. Let's hope the heat shielding is still intact.

"Second, we need to learn whatever language they're speaking," Jack added. "Wodan, are you able to listen in on the locals and work out their language?" Please tell me someone somewhere thought it was possible their AI would need such a thing should they encounter other alien races out here... wherever here was.