Eila summoned her [Forge]. It appeared around her in the now cleared out lounge. The other forgers who’d decided to help summoned theirs as well; she took a quick glance at Forgemaster Gerund’s and gawked.

Is that a [Moonstone Furnace]? The furnace was massive and onyx-colored with glimmering lines of opal running through it. She had read about it in The Forge Daily, a magazine covering all things forge-related.

She tore her eyes away from the rest of Gerund’s set-up before she got too distracted. Focus. To her right, she could see movement as the hostages were now free to move around a bit. She hoped—prayed—they took this opportunity to organize something. She also prayed the pirates continued to drink; it seemed without their captain around to enforce order, they were much more sloppy.

She turned to the pirate who was accompanying her, a surprisingly pretty and svelte young man with a birthmark on his left cheek. His tan coloring and deep blue eyes suggested he was from the Province of Waves.

“All right,” she said. “I’m ready. What do you want me to start with?”

Keeping an eye on her, the pirate summoned his [Binder] and flipped through before pulling out a [Blueprint] and handing it to her. It was an [Enforce: Kneel Blueprint], an Adept Order Support card. Order and Chaos cards were typically more expensive than the other elements, so it made sense he’d started with this. She quickly skimmed the requirements and cursed inwardly. None of them were suitable.

She told the pirate the item materials required, and after another quick double-check of the [Blueprint], the pirate handed them over. With the sheer amount of cards they’d looted from all the passengers’ [Binders], these pirates basically had a whole emporium to themselves.

She took a deep breath, then looked up at her pirate. “Sorry,” she apologized, holding up the [Order Source] he gave her. “This is a bit of a tricky focus to work with. I’m not too familiar with it. I’m just going to ask for help.”

Before the pirate could object, she spun around and raised the [Item Card] over her head. “Is anyone here familiar with [Order Sources]?”

The seven other forgers stared at her before a woman raised her hand—it was the matronly woman who’d first stood up and volunteered to forge as well. With a smile, Eila walked over, her pirate following behind. Thankfully, he didn’t stop her.

The pirate watching the woman—a tall man with a permanent scowl—stared at her as she walked up.

“Just need to ask a quick question,” she explained, holding the card up. The pirate frowned.

The woman eyed her as she approached. By the look of her [Forge], she was Adept as well.

“Hi, I’m Eila. I was hoping you could help me with this attunement?”

The woman nodded curtly. “I’m Mashi. What’s the problem?”

“Well,” Eila said loudly, enough for the other forgers around to hear, “I’m worried that because of the Order energy running through the ship, the source will be more difficult to pacify. I have an idea, but I wanted to run it by someone else. I don’t want to fail the [Blueprint].”

“I see,” the woman said after a moment. “What’s your idea?”

“I think if I find the right opportunity, I’ll be able to stretch the material and make it mine. It might result in failure anyway, but it’s better than nothing. What do you think?” Eila kept her voice light and curious, as if this was just another day, but she was acutely aware of both the forgers and pirates watching her.

“That… will be difficult,” Mashi said. Her eyes flickered to the side, where her pirate and Eila’s were staring at them with their decks out. “Dangerous, even. [Order Source] can be volatile if improperly handled.”

Eila nodded. “I know. But I still have to try, right? What I’m worried about is how I’m going to transfer the focus to the card afterwards.”

Mashi thought for a moment. Eila’s back was sweating, but she kept a smile on her face.

“You’ll have to store it properly,” the older woman said at last. “Maybe in a water-based receptacle to keep it fluid. You’ll need co-ordination, though. Another pair of hands.”

Eila’s heart skipped. “That could work,” she said.

Mashi nodded curtly. “Good luck. If I run into a similar situation, I’ll do the same. I’ll see if the other forgers have any ideas too when I can.”

Eila thanked her and walked back to her [Forge], heart thumping rapidly. She tried to look as if she was deep in thought, but her eyes kept glancing at her pirate who was following her. It didn’t seem like he thought anything of the conversation; he looked bored, actually. But the other forgers around… their expressions showed understanding. They were still scared, but they’d understood.

She began forging.

—🃁—

Captain Dennier stood in the crystal room, arms clasped behind her back, as the engineers babbled away.

“Look,” a scrawny, gray-haired woman said, her spectacles resting precariously on the tip of her nose, “you cannot convert an entire crystal matrix into an [Item Card]. It simply cannot be done.” Behind her, a gaggle of younger engineers in Order-colored lab coats nodded nervously.

Dennier resisted the urge to slap those glasses off her face. “Elaborate,” she said instead, staring up at the eight floating crystals dominating the middle of the metallic room. They were each encased in giant glass jars filled with Order energy that stretched from the bottom of the floor to the ceiling.

Four of them were [Superior Engine Crystals], used to keep the airship afloat. Two were [Superior Shield Crystals], which maintained the air-shield around the Serenity. One was a [Superior Lockdown Crystal], which created the lockdown effect, and the other was a [Control Crystal] which could be used to operate the others.

It was baffling the sheer amount of energy that was needed to keep a beast like the Serenity afloat and safe. The Scapegoat only needed two regular [Engine Crystals] and one [Shield Crystal] to run.

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But she needed the [Lockdown Crystal]. Just one, stupid little crystal and she was done.

The woman—Senior Engineer Vero—sighed with exasperation. A part of Dennier respected her; it took a person with thick ink in their veins to behave like that in a situation like this.

The greater part of Dennier wanted to see Zepyhr—her [Sky Wyrm]--swallow her impertinent face whole.

“It’s fundamental System mechanics,” Vero said. “The Rule of Eight. If an item consists of more than eight distinct, unique components, it cannot be converted into a card. Why is a question for theologians and Systemizers.” She snorted in derision, showing her lack of respect for those who dedicated their lives to dissecting and understanding the System.

Dennier pulled the longcomm she got from that arrogant captain and wagged it in the engineer’s face. “You’re telling me that this thing that allows me to speak to the Continent doesn’t have more than eight components?”

“Where… where did you get that?” Vero asked, eyes wide.

“From your captain’s bleeding corpse. Now answer the question.”

Vero peeled her eyes away and swallowed. “No, it doesn’t. If you broke it apart, you would find exactly eight parts. The shell, the switch, the gears, Order and Air circuitry—“

Dennier waved her hand impatiently, cutting her off. She’d already figured it was impossible to convert one of the crystals into an [Item Card]. Still, it was worth getting confirmation.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll just physically move it onto my ship then.”

“Did your men not already tell you what I said about that?”

Dennier smiled. It was the smile she used when one of her men tested her patience. The four elite crewmembers she entrusted to hold this room looked away. They had changed back into their crew uniforms; she had sent them ahead of time aboard the Serenity as disguised passengers to take hold of the crystal and flight room before the Scapegoat made contact.

Unfortunately, the distress signal still went out, but she couldn’t control everything.

“Disrespect me again,” Dennier said. She nodded to the woman, who had suddenly paled. “Go on. Do it.”

Vero’s mouth flapped open before she shut it. “I apologize,” she mumbled after a moment.

Dennier stared at her, until the engineer started to sweat.

“Tell it to me,” Dennier continued, returning her gaze to the crystals. “Why can I not just pull the crystal out of its casing?”

“There are protection measures in place to prevent unauthorized handling,” Vero explained, her voice notably more subdued now. “The stabilizer fields—the casing, as you called them—also have those measures, so you can’t just take those with the crystal inside.”

“And who is authorized to handle them?”

“Top officials in the Crystal Guild,” Vero said. “The crystals are only ever physically handled when a ship is docked. Never in the air.” She shrugged. “Even I can’t interact with the crystals in any meaningful capacity beyond what the [Control Crystal] allows.”

“Then what is your purpose aboard this ship?”

“Me and my team monitor them for any sign of instability or weakening. In the event that happens, we notify the captain, who will make an executive decision depending on the situation. But the crystals are stable. There hasn’t been an incident since the Serenity first took flight, almost seven years ago now. We also maintain the smaller matrices throughout the ship that keep the amenities running.”

Dennier nodded slowly, thinking. “How about the crystals below the lobby?” she mused. “Two Engines, a Shield, and a Lockdown. Those are inert, are they not? Kept in case of an emergency?”

Vero gaped. “How do you know about those?”

She smiled. “I have my sources.” Her client had told her about them, in fact.

Vero seemed to struggle with that concept, but she shook her head. “Your sources were wrong. The crystals are not inert. They are running, just at a lower capacity. If anything were to happen to the main crystals here, they will take over enough for the airship to either land or stay afloat until help arrives.”

Dennier frowned. She didn’t like receiving wrong information.

She pointed at one of the [Superior Engine Crystals]. “So, if I were to destroy it, what exactly would happen to the cards inside?”

“A chain reaction will trigger. A Chaos [Reversion] card activates, which turns all the linked cards back into its component items and [Blueprints]. Then, a Fire [Immolate] activates, which burns everything up. Finally, an Air [Fine Dispersion] scatters all the ashes, making them impossible to recollect for analysis.”

Dennier whistled. “Impressive. Is it the same for the other two crystal types?”

“Yes. The secrets behind the construction of these crystal matrices are some of the most tightly guarded in the whole world.”

“But you seem to know a lot,” Dennier said with a smile.

Vero blinked. “Well, I have been working with these crystals for most of my professional career.”

“Is that right? How about your underlings? Are they as well-versed as you?”

Vero looked over her shoulder at the gaggle of young engineers staring nervously at Dennier. “They have incredible potential. I have no doubt each and everyone of them will surpass me in the future.”

“How touching.” Dennier nodded to her waiting crew. “Kill them, then wait here for my order.”

As one, the pirates nodded and stepped forward.

“What?” Vero exclaimed as the young engineers started to panic. “No, no! You can’t!”

Dennier stepped up and gripped Vero by the back of the neck. “ You’re coming with me.”

The door opened before she could. Albas stood on the other side, panting. She frowned down at the young boy, the nephew of her ship’s quartermaster who’d stowed away on the ship like a rat two years ago and just never left.

“What’s the matter?” Dennier asked. Behind her, she heard the sounds of Attacks firing, followed by thuds as bodies dropped. Vero screamed, and Dennier gave her a firm cuff over the head, silencing her.

Albas sucked in a deep breath; clearly he had run all the way here. “Problem…” he gasped. “Cardbearer… escaped…got to a Duke’s Cabin and used some Support card… [Dashed] through a damn window…”

“What?’ Dennier scowled. “When did this happen? Why did no one comm me?”

“They were scared,” Albas said, finally catching his breath. He peered around Dennier’s body at the gory scene behind. “Happened maybe an hour or so ago. They tried to find him themselves but couldn’t. Paid me ten greens to come tell you and not say who.”

“Albas,” Dennier growled. “Tell me who is responsible. Now.”

“Nope. I ain’t a rat.”

Dennier glared down at the young boy, who glared back.

Damn this child, she thought, giving up. He had a smug smile on his face. “Come,” she said, dragging Vero through the door. “Go find out everything you can about this cardbearer. If he came out of his room, get the number and go to the lobby. Check the passenger logs. See if he came aboard with someone else. Then comm me what you learn.”

Albas gave a sharp salute. “Yes, Cap’n.” He ran off to the [Teleport Stone] in the adjoining room and disappeared in a flash.

Dennier followed after, thinking. An escaped rat was a problem, yes, but nothing she couldn’t handle. With the lockdown enabled, the cardbearer, whoever he was, was helpless.

Still, she couldn’t shake a strange feeling of worry as she dragged the sobbing Vero to the Stone.