Legend of Ransera

As good as his word, his cousin-in-law Eitan had arranged things for a bit of adventure.

Aboard Searing Victory, he was Admiral Angevin and mostly all business, but he was not cold to Dornkirk, nor to Kämpfer. The crew of the ZADC flagship worked like clockwork, and so he was able to step away and confer with the Warders he had brought from the Order to assist him in seeing to the protections of the riverland forts. For one, the Order liked to maintain its mystique. For another, he didn't want to make Reiner uncomfortable with him, so he kept that aspect of his work quiet.

"The anchors must align properly for the southron shields to connect with the shields of the city proper," he reminded them. "The city proper will be nigh impervious to any blunt force attacks, and the forts... well, you understand." His warders nodded with alacrity while the ZRC logistician hurriedly triple-checked her calculations. "Very well. I will leave you to your preparations."

He rose. "Dismissed." And then he left the small meeting room, climbing stairs to the deck. Walking to the prow, he didn't see Dornkirk or Kämpfer. Hopefully nobody was puking into a bucket. Standing in the prow, gazing down at the summer greens of Zaichaer's territories, he felt like the king of the world. The deck was warded against heavy winds, but it was not in an impervious bubble. The breezes did tease at his carefully smoothed curls, and at his uniform.

Angevin smiled to himself and the open skies. As much as he loved home and hearth and family, as much as he loved the High City, this was his happy place. To fly was to see all earthly problems reduced to equations on a page, curiosities upon a map, and to feel above it all; invincible, untouchable.

As Admiral Angevin, he supposed he cut an impressive figure standing there. But here, where they could be seen, but not overheard, he was more like the Eitan Reiner knew from socializing. Here, he smiled broadly, and were Stefan there, he might have recollected how as young boys Brenner and Eitan had smiled broadly, proudly, when showing things off to each other. Eitan didn't speak for a while. He often thought of Brenner when he was aboard Searing Victory. There were aborted dreams of being XO to Brenner's CO, but now he was juggling all sorts of power and authority while Stefan did experiments on his brother's metallic remains.

Time passed. He processed the sadness and regret so that when he turned his head to Reiner once more, he could smile sincerely.

"We used to play at airmen in our youth, Brenner and I," he shared. "When he was stationed aboard the flagship, it seemed as though boyhood dreams were coming true. I never did get to serve on the same ship as him, alas. But I like to think he would be proud to see us soldiering on."

There was a chirp, and he tapped the silver wings attached to his chest.

"Go ahead."

"Approaching Straußburg, sir."

"Ahh, excellent. Practice strafing maneuvers on approach." He paused. "Warn them it's a drill before we reach anti-airship defense range, but not long before."

A pause. A wicked, "Aye, sir."

The wings chirped once more and Eitan smirked at Reiner.

"Let's see if we can't make Commander Vonnegut shit her britches, shall we?"

Reiner mostly saw Eitan playing family man or playing Admiral to the ZADC fleet; up here at the prow of an airship, causing mischief, perhaps he caught a glimpse of the Eitan Brenner had known. The elder man did seem sincere in his desire to include Reiner in all things family, his idea of family clearly inclusive. Perhaps there was an element of feeling paternal toward the entire State now he had been so instrumental in saving and succoring it, guiding it back toward prosperity. In any case, he grinned, stepping closer to the taffrail and grasping a mooring duck.

The ships enchantments dampened the worst of quick maneuvers, but it didn't hurt to be safe.

The subsonic hum that constantly resonated through the ship, its cargo, and its passengers changed, and then the prow dipped. Looking straight ahead, the fortress came into clear view and focus. The wind, also dampened, still picked up as they accelerated, raking through their hair.

Once more, he tapped his wings.

"Sir?"

"Gunners, arm flares."

There was a pause, and then an amused, "Aye, sir."

He looked innocently at Reiner. "One does want a certain level of verisimilitude to one's pranks."

Without telling Reiner, he wove a ward about them, anchored on the mooring duck, so even should the worst happen, they wouldn't fall to their deaths. Their dive was thrilling to Eitan, though he did glance from time to time to ensure he wasn't traumatizing the ground-pounder. When they were close enough, flares shot out of artillery tubes and their descent bottomed out, gravity seeming to weight them down rather too heavily, as they slowed before rising once more.

The flares went off over the fortress like so many fireworks. Eitan was laughing a bit like a wild man, hoping that Vonnegut was pissed.

As Searing Victory's swoop turned into a sort of lazy victory lap around the fortress, now quite close, all things told, whoops and hollers erupted from all over the ship. The airmen were well-disciplined, knowing it was the key to keeping themselves and their families safe from the dangers that lay waiting outside their civilization. When they were given something simple and momentous to enjoy, they certainly did enjoy it. Even now, those manning the walls were laughing it off and waving to the airship.

To his credit, Eitan kept his aplomb for a minute or so before laughing, color high in his cheeks. Dark eyes sparkled with glee.

"Should have them trained to play the 112 Overture so they could answer back with cannon fire in time with the music," he mused. "Well, perhaps for my birthday." His smile squirmed a bit and then he was grinning again, and if Reiner wasn't Brenner and they weren't children, it was nice to share something similar as grown men with his cousin.

There was little that needed doing from him at this point; the helm had his orders and they didn't need him to oversee the docking procedure. If his hair was in disarray when he met with Vonnegut, well, so be it. Delia said he should be polite and politic with Vonnegut, but fuck that. She was a bitch for no reason. Of course, he would try to be polite and politic now that he had caused a scene. But it was clear the airmen loved him for it, and the ground troops would forgive him by the time he left. Seeing the ZADC flagship in action and knowing it was there to protect them went a long way toward making them love it and the men who crewed it.

"We'll make an airman of you yet," he said, clapping Reiner briskly on the back.

He wasn't the sort of man who hit hard to prove his masculinity, but rather as an inclusive gesture. Eitan had welcomed Reiner into his family, conjoined as it was now with the Dornkirks, welcomed him into his home, and now into his career. He wanted Reiner to work his way up such that nobody questioned him for nepotism, but he also wanted Reiner to know what his options were. If he wanted to reach for the stars, an airship was a good place from which to stretch out his hand.

While adrenaline was pumping, his mind was still working.

"Then I will most certainly introduce you to old Benno," he assured him, "and find more opportunities for a ZDC officer to liaise with the ZADC. If we learned anything from the pidge's holocaust and the birth of the fell moon, it is that we must be adaptable. Benno went from ZDC to ZADC and now he is leading both. There has been some discussion of the possibility of small fleets of airships specifically under the control of the ZDC and Riverlands Corps. Mostly for troop transport and logistics, at least at first. You would be a prime candidate for such a thing."

His face grew serious, his gaze intense as they shared this time together. Soon they would have to debark and go to work.

"I will not put you in a position in which I don't believe you will thrive, but I am a resource for you. You just have to ask."

That said, he smiled. Airmen were on deck now, and they were fast approaching the airship mooring. The men (and women) of Searing Victory worked like a well-oiled machine.

"All right, well. Go find Kuno..." He had heard Reiner use the nickname, and tried it himself. He wasn't like normal admirals; he was a cool admiral. "Chat up the troops. Time for me to face the ogre of Straußburg." But he smirked, smashed down his wind-tousled curls, and set his hat upon his head to keep them down.

With a salute to his cousin-in-law, he instantly code-switched into Admiral Angevin, and strode purposefully away.