Turn 48

    Val is all for getting away while the getting is good, but he quickly realizes that the group is shy a member. Seeing the creature backing away, Emmett had moved to place himself between it and his wounded comrades lest it change its mind. Now that it is obviously gone--for the moment--he hunkers down over the insectoid corpse and starts rooting through it for tools of interest. "Spoils of war being spoils of war." Pham and Ibn Fadil deserve the lion's share certainly, but better to claim them for the group before the dwarves arrive in force.
    The xixchil didn't carry much beyond the bag of keys that Val snatched, although there is another, somewhat larger bag as well. Like many of its kind, its battered exoskeleton has elaborate metallic inlays (now, alas, quite a bit less aesthetically pleasing); they look like copper. Aside from the large black stone in his chest, there is an emerald below each eye, like exotic tears. A few sharp blows suffice to shatter the chitin into smaller shards for pocketing along with the bag; the stones can be freed later.
    Hearing a despairing wail from the yitsan, which has discovered that the tunnel is no means of escape, Emmett then hastens to rejoin his companions. The impatiently hopping Gorn leads them to the left - this level appears to have the same layout as one of those below, avoiding a half dozen heavily armed dwarves who are coming from the right to deal with the creature.
    They pass the entrance to one of the broken lifts and continue on, and a short time later are back where they first entered this strange place; the carved iron doors are open, and they can see several dwarves huddled in close knots within, talking quietly. One of them looks out and sees them, does a double-take, and seems about to come out, but at a gesture from a companion remains where he or she is.
    It is very difficult to step into that lift again, but a few moments later the platform deposits them on the citadel's landing area. An unfamiliar mosquito is hovering hard by but has not landed, and Theo is talking to a hooded dwarf, with ibn Fadil close by, scowling.

* * *

    Figuring that it's logical for 'his' ship to be sent in to talk, ibn Fadil looks to Theo for such instruction. "Sir?" he calls, letting the captain know he's paying attention.
    "Tell Alais to bring her in close as you can," the captain instructs, and turns away to give further orders to the rest of his crew. Through some delicate maneuvering, the ships are brought close enough for him to cross over to the mosquito. There is a further pause while one of the _Cat's_ men provides a sword for the currently-unarmed ibn Fadil. "Bring her down a bit, but don't land. What do you think about this?" he asks, glancing at the waiting dwarf.
    "At best, they want to apologize and get us to leave them alone to cope with their folly, sir," ibn Fadil replies, also eyeing the dwarf. "At worst - well, I mentioned that already."
    Theo grunts acknowledgement and jumps down to the deck where the dwarf is waiting. "Captain Barthelm," he introduces himself. "Of the TTS _Lazy Cat_. What do you want?"
    "You may call me Gerik," the dwarf's deep and somewhat weary voice replies. "And I wish only to let you know that the remainder of your people will be arriving momentarily, and we are not in the least interested in hindering your departure--quite the opposite."
    Just then there is a whir as the lift operates, and Delmar and the others emerge, looking somewhat bloody and grim. The dwarf with them remains at the lift.
    "Your belongings will be returned to you," Gerik continues as they cross the deck toward the _Distraction_. "And indeed, you are welcome to whatever lies in that ship touched by his foulness, as you have freed us from the lesser part of our bondage."
    "Get on board and ready to move out," Delmar tells them quietly, then moves to take up a position flanking Theo.
    "The lesser?" Theo asks, sounding somewhat affronted.
    "The greater will be ours for the remainder of our lives, body and spirit," he replies calmly. "Too much of what we have done was done with open eyes." The lift sounds again, this time bearing two dwarves. One of them carries the crew's weapons in all three hands; the other sprint over to Gerik and looses an excited-sounding flood of dwarven speech.
    "Huh," Yestin says, cocking an ear. "It seems a cleric has been found, who was hostage. These xixchil and their drugs--I do not think I like them," he says mildly, pressing a hand to his battered ribs as he climbs aboard.
    Gerik gestures to the speaking dwarf to wait and speaks to Theo again. "Perhaps the gods will tell us what we may do to atone. We are adrift in the Flow, and shall remain so evermore unless others of our people come to our aid; there are two few of us to operate the Forge, even can we repair it. We may yet survive quite some time as we are. Though we can rightly ask nothing more of you visitors, I beg you to pass word of our fate to any who may find it in themselves to aid such miserable things as we."
    "There is a detachment of Imperial Marines in Bralspace, where we are bound," Theo tells him, not without a glimmer of hard amusement in his eyes. "I'm sure they'll know what to do."
    Gerik opens his mouth, shuts it grimly. Even in their straits, it is clear that it will be hard for them to accept that particular aid--should it be forthcoming. And of course there is the matter of the flitter's pilot, who almost certainly met an unpleasant end. "As you wish," he says at last.
    There is not much more to say; Gerik appears to be feeling the weight of years' exhaustion and is anxious for them to go so the dwarves can decide what to do next, and Theo appears willing to depart with an intact crew and an unexpected extra ship--the issue of what will constitute justice for the remaining dwarves is a thorny one best left to wiser heads, in his opinion.
    The Three Trees convoy spelljams for a bit to get some distance between them and the citadel before stopping to take stock. As soon as they stop, Brother Pham tends to his injured comrades (Yestin and Hiro regain 3 and 5 respectively; poor Yestin just cannot get a break).
    When Emmett examines the items he snatched from the wizard's body, he finds a heavy ceramic bottle containing something that sounds somewhat viscous when he tilts it, and a small crystal one holding something amber-colored. Although it's easy enough to tell that the black stone has some sort of magical properties, none of the ships' magicians can tell what it might be.
    There is also time to examine the contents of the mosquito. The rats are disposed of promptly, singing or no singing; the rest takes somewhat more time to catalog, particularly since Alais insists on doing most of it himself. The others haven't seen him this excited since he last expounded his elemental shift theory.
    Packed in among the odds and ends the xixchil wanted to take with him in case of a hasty retreat from his citadel is a small chest of gold pieces and a beautiful carved ivory box that holds a scattering of gems. In a set of large crates are a half dozen sets of dwarven chain mail, short swords, and axes, as well as a human-sized set of plate mail, an axe and scimitar.
    The chest bolted down near the helm is locked, and a somewhat self-conscious but resigned Valarin works on it for a while before it opens. Inside is a leather scroll case marked with what might be runes or might be "this end up" as far as most of them can tell, a clear glass bottle with a clear liquid in it, and a small velvet pouch with a ring.
    By far the oddest thing on the ship is a largish crate that at first appears to be full of nothing but straw. Digging into it reveals a much smaller wooden box, which when opened also contains straw. Nestled into that is something Emmett recognizes immediately: a griffin egg. What was the xixchil doing with it, and why pack it so carefully?
    Delmar tells them, "The usual way for the company to handle what they like to call ŒSalvage and Recovery' work like this is for the higher-ups to inventory and take care of the actual sale, give the finders a cut. I've never been personally involved in, uh, salvaging a fully operational ship, so I'm not entirely sure how Mr. Volant will want to deal with this. At the very least, I'd say we're all due some handsome bonus pay. It's accepted that one or two small things might find new homes before the auditors can board," he adds with a smile.
    The trip back to Bralspace is uneventful after that, although the extra ship makes juggling piloting duty a bit more difficult, and they reach the sphere some days behind their anticipated schedule as a result. Plenty of time for everyone to recuperate, and to talk about the past and the future.

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