Every Waking Moment [Solo]
Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2022 9:34 pm
4 Glade 121
Zaichaeri Holdings
Vanessa had not kept her vessel moored at the skydocks. Space there was limited and commanded a high premium, not to mention the security that often took every excuse for 'surprise inspections' for any vessel resting there. Her decision to hide this vessel was made long ago, and had been born out of necessity. There was little reason left to hide it now. She was a citizen of Zaichaer now, given rights and protections under the law. Her criminal record was even almost conspicuously clean, though that was only possible because her name had only entered the public record upon Franz finalizing the proper paperwork.
She was far from the city, though still firmly in Zaichaeri's holdings when she came upon the enormous storage barn. Rust red in color in the places where paint had not yet begun to flake away, the impromptu hangar showed its age. It was owned by her uncle, who had used it largely for his smuggling operations back when he was still active in the trade. Now it served almost entirely as a place to store memories.
After heaving the large double doors open one at a time, Vanessa stood before her very past.
Uncle Arthur had been a sentimental sort ever since the tragedy of gateway. He had lost much of his family, and clung tightly to whatever scraps of their lives he had been able to salvage. Paintings sat on shelves, and newspaper clippings mentioning the Quill family were stored in scrapbooks that littered the floor.
There were heirlooms as well, left unclaimed by Vanessa. Rings, necklaces and even a hookah pipe all sat neglected among countless other curios and mementos from a life Vanessa had never experienced. They were fake, of course. Their worth was weighed solely in sentimentality. Vanessa spared scarcely a glance for any of them, instead having her sights set on something far more pertinent.
A large, heavy vessel of Imperial make, claimed by Vanessa after a bloody confrontation high in the clouds. The airship lacked a gasbag, powered instead by an aether engine below decks. As such, it had a smaller profile than most Zaichaeri vessels who still relied on the more mundane technology. Her hull was two feet of teak wood, and she showed few battle scars, even the most fearsome of caster shells finding it difficult to punch through her impressive hull. But that had been years ago, Vanessa reminded herself.
The prow of the ship was shaped at the bottom, coming to an armored metal beak ten feet in length. An aeronautical ram, one meant both to splinter hulls as well as shear gasbags. Above it was the figurehead of the vessel. A woman draped in a pitch black veil, arms held low and to either side in a haunting welcome gesture. It was a masterwork, the black marble carved with such care that the veil seemed real and flowing. Special attention was paid to where it would pull tight to give the impression of the woman's features, and where it would hang loose and fold over itself.
Vanessa had not been here in years, and still the statue was perfectly polished and without even a speck of dust upon her.
She stepped around the airship and pulled herself aboard with the help of a rope hanging over one of the taffrails. Once she was sure footed on the deck of the ship, she took inventory of the vessel's armaments.
Everything was still in order, three cannons, four ballistae, a swivel gun on port and starboard fixed with grappling hooks and a single mortar for limited bombardment. There were more gun ports below deck, but many of the cannons it once been armed with had been traded, sold, or equipped in other prizes that were lacking in defense. It was not a perfect vessel, but had enough weaponry to evade or endure a proper dust-up.
She ducked below deck to inspect the engine. The lower decks were cramped, but there were quarters enough for a decently sized crew, and barrels in the hold for rations. The engine was below the quarterdeck, sequestered away from the rest of the vessel and further protected by thick iron plates lining the interior of the engine room. After wiping off the dust and grime with a rag, Vanessa searched the engine for any faults or cracks. She ran her fingers over the cool metal, but nothing stood out as requiring attention. The vessel would fly, of that she was sure.
Before that though, the bodyguard had one last inspection to make. She stalked through the lower decks until her foot found a loose plank in the floor. Stooping down, Vanessa pried the board back to reveal a secret compartment with a single chest hidden inside. In years past it was used to hide anything outright illegal when port authorities demanded the right to inspect the ship, but now it was used for a much more straightforward purpose.
After she unlocked the chest, Vanessa opened the lid. Glittering gold avens greeted her, the chest filled to the brim with ill gotten coin.
She had always intended to secure herself a comfortable life in some far off land, but that had never materialized.
It had been nice to pretend.
She need not count it all, just one look was enough to tell her nothing was out of place. She snatched a handful of coins and stuffed them in her inner coat pocket. Then she latched the chest shut, replaced the plank, and stepped down onto it to drive the nails back down into
Satisfied, Vanessa then returned to the captain's wheel. With a gentle hand, She engaged the engine, but only just. The engine rumbled to life, and the vessel rose off of the the wooden supports that kept it upright.
Once she had proper clearance, Vanessa carefully eased the vessel out of the storage barn and closed the doors behind her.
It was freeing, flying an airship again. Even now, only a few feet off of the ground, she felt a familiar rush that warmed her mind and eased the knots in her stomach.
She didn't travel directly back to Zaichaer. She enjoyed her flight, drifting aimlessly over fields and forests. She pierced up through the clouds as well as buzzed the treeline The ship wasn't quite as responsive as it would have been with a full crew, the sails bound up tight against the masts so that Vanessa could not take full advantage of the wind.
But such small trifles couldn't have possibly mattered to Vanessa. She was in the air again, and could feel glade's gentle breeze as well as the sun's warmth soaking into her. The world's troubles seemed so very far away, and it was almost enough to make her forget there had been a violent purge of the city's aristocracy. Almost.
But that reality came clawing back, and finally she was forced to conclude her aimless flying and direct herself back to Zaichaer proper. This, at least, was a trip she had made dozens of times before. She gave the city walls a wide berth, not keen to press her luck flying through the city itself considering the 'rising tensions' Zaichaer was currently facing with Kalzasi. She rather liked her ship, and had little interest in having it blown out of the sky by some pants-wetting no-hoper looking to illustrate their zeal to the regime.
The airfield was a bustle of activity, but it always was during these morning hours. Vessels were loaded and unloaded, coins changed hands and manifests were carefully scrutinized. Vanessa promptly cut in line, snatching a space from another airship that had foolishly been waiting their turn, and begun to tie her vessel down. It had been years, but her body still remembered how to work the knots and secure them. It was second nature, her mind not once factoring into it.
Once the ship was secure, Vanessa crossed the gangplank and an esteemed member of the port authority had intercepted her before she could have even searched for him. He opened his mouth to speak, and Vanessa could tell just by the way he carried himself that she had no interest in hearing his nasally griping. And so she cut him off.
“Vanessa Quill, Second of Cinderfall, year Eighty-five in the Age of Steel. I have no manifest as I am carrying no goods and I'm the sole operator of this vessel. She is equipped with three dragonwrath cannons as well as four ballistae two grappling hooks, and a single great bombard. I will be docking her here for the duration of Glade.”
Vanessa handed over the coins, pushing them into the man's hand. The man stammered for a moment, unused to someone who was utterly uninterested in the theatrics that came with his authority.
Hoping to save face, the man quickly snapped back. “We reserve the right to inspect your vessel at any time, is that clear?” She was right, his voice was excruciatingly nasally
Vanessa fixed him with a truly withering look. “Yes it's quite clear.” She said, anger just barely restrained. The man did not immediately respond, and so she took it as a dismissal and stepped around him towards one of the soldier further down who was beckoning her for the usual search for contraband. It was an odd feeling to have nothing to hide, Vanessa decided.
Once she was a few steps away, the nasally man tapped his clipboard with a pencil and called out to her. “One more thing, Miss Quill. I must record the name of the vessel.”
Without breaking stride, nor missing a beat, Vanessa replied flatly.
“Every Waking Moment.”