Like all things, it started with the lust for power. Europe at the turn of the 20th century was a powder-keg waiting to explode. Tension were high as each power house vied for dominance in the race to be the most industrialized nation. The rise of the steam engine and all that transpired from it become the driving force for this mechanical race. Nations strove to make bigger buildings, bigger boats, bigger airships, bigger guns... bigger everything. All for the intent to have bigger power. They formed alliances, the small seeking assurance with the strong. And the race continued.

In 1913, the powder-keg exploded leading to outright strife then to warfare. What was mainly Europe, with a few non-European powers, soon exploded to encompass nearly every land mass: The America’s, Africa, large portions of Asia, and even a few skirmishes in Australia.
The war did not stop the arms race, in fact it escalated it. More powerful machines were invented. But even with the newly initiated battle automatons the war is bloody and drags on for years.

Finally, after seven years of bloody fighting a ceasefire is reached, with no true winner declared. The world merely reached a point that if they had continued, mutual destruction would have been the outcome and no one wanted to win by being defeated. So the nations of the world agreed to a cease-fire and a sort of peace settled - at least on the surface. The cold war had began. Nations responded differently. A few, totally withdrawn into themselves, becoming isolationists, avoiding outside influence, placing heavy tariffs on imported goods and few, if any visitors allowed in. Other countries continue on as before, pouring money and goods into the armed forces and defense at a heavy toll to the civilian population. While others still have turned more peaceful, even if they keep a hyper vigilant eye on their easy peace.

It is now 1930, the “cold peace” has lasted for ten years. Many people hope that maybe true peace is possible, but bitterness and longer burning opposition still lingers and threats to bubble the pot again. Technology has continued to advance with massive airships, steam-ironclads, automatized tanks and animals. However, there was a corresponding rise to mysticism. Even among the educated, there is more than just talk about things of divine, supernatural, or other worldly. Churches started to fill again, cults were founded believing in things anywhere from mysterious orbs to elite beings that would revolutionize the world.

Doctor Edwin Brown had always been one of the the world's foremost experts on Mysticism. Initially thought as a quack by majority of the scientific community for his field of interest, he allegedly destroyed his work and refused to publish anything more on the subject. With the rise of mysticism, many asked him to pick up his research again. The London Institute of Science and Technology offered him a position but he refused. Stubborn and bitter, Doctor Brown refused, keeping to himself and rarely seeing anyone - except his daughter and a few old friends. When he died of a heart-attack in 1929, he was honored by the London Institute of Science and Technology as a hero with many calling him the Father of Mysticism. But the populace and many government officials were split on what to think of him. Some despised him for his refusal to lead the world on while others made him a saint in their various cults. Very few realized that Doctor Brown had not destroyed all of his work and that he had stumbled upon something that the would indeed change the world. Something that many would kill for.

And so the Spring of 1930 rolled around much like the turn of the 20th century. Tensions were high with a new race to unlock the secrets of the mystics - some for peace, others for final dominance. At the back of everyone's mind was the worry that war would again break out and this time, would not stop until there was complete victory - or utter devastation.

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The courier ran up the stairs and rapped door. He barely glanced over the sign beside the door that read: Ms. Mortimer's Boarding Home for Elegant Young Ladies. He turned slightly away, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the door to open. It was the beginning of the day and he was eager to deliver the package and move on. The morning fog still hung lightly in the air giving the morning a bit of a misty look. The door opening caused him to turn his attention back. An older woman stood there glaring with a stern look behind her wire framed glasses. Her skirts blocked the doorway, making it near impossible to see past the entryway. "This is a ridiculously early hour. Young men are not permitted to call at this hour." She narrowed her eyes and started to close the door.

The young man removed his cap. "Mam, delivery for Ms. Brown," he said holding up the package.

Ms. Mortimer, the land lady of this fine establishment, glared down at the courier. "You interrupt our morning meal for a delivery? Couldn't you have at least waited until a reasonable hour to come by?" She sighed. "Very well, give it to me and I'll pass it on." She reached for the letter.

The young man snatched his hand back. "Sorry, Mam. I have to give this directly to Ms. Brown. Those are my strict orders. Honest to goodness."

The woman glared down at him, her eyes boring into him. He gave her a shrug as if to say it couldn't be helped. Finally she sighed. "Wait here," she said turning and closing the door. He could barely make out her grumbling about early morning and young people these days had no sense of decency.

The boy twisted his cap impatiently as he once again stood on the porch. He patted his satchel, filling the thickness. He had a whole parcel of packages and letters to deliver and didn't have time for this. But, he couldn't complain. It was his job and if he had to wait... well, he had to wait.

It took an antagonizing long time but eventually the door started to open. He turned. Seeing a younger woman he quickly straightened. Ignoring land lady hulking over the young woman's shoulder he looked at her openly. "Are you Ms. Brown?" He asked.

Beatrix was seated at the table with a few other girls, reading over the morning paper as she nibbled on some toast. She was normally the one to read the paper first, the other girls mostly interested in the society pages and not much else. Which she was okay with for the most part, but some mornings it was very tiresome to only really hear about last night's party and not any of the other current events.

She didn't notice when there was a knock at the door, only somewhat registering that their house mother had gotten up and gone to the door at all. She couldn't hear her words, but she could hear her tone above the others as they chatted. So it was with some surprise when her name was called and she looked up to find the stern and annoyed face if Ms. Mortimer looking at her.

“Me?” she asked confused.

“Yes dear girl, you,” the older woman huffed, stepping back into the hall in a rustle of skirts. “Come on now, don't leave him standing like that on our front porch. Unsightly.”

Bea stood quickly, dropping her paper down into her vacated seat and hurried to the door. She didn't even mind that Ms. Mortimer was standing almost disapprovingly behind her.

“Yes, I'm Ms. Brown,” she nodded, looking him over, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I'm Beatrix Brown. You have a package for me?”

-----

Aboard the Valkyrie

“What do you mean that you're leaving?” Will huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He was standing on the outer deck of the Valkyrie, his mechanic standing in front of him with his duffle bag on the ground at his feet. “You cannot possibly be thinking of going right now.”

The man shrugged his shoulders some. “Look, captain, I can't stay anymore. My lady wants me home, and I'm inclined to listen when she asks.”

Will rolled his eyes some, looking away and out at the dock they were tethered to. “You at least could’ve given me a warning.”

The man sighed and rubbed permanently black tinged hands through his short cropped hair. “Well just got the letter today. So I'm givin’ you as much notice as I got.”

The captain just grumbled to himself and shook his head. “Fine, I'll send your severance to her address then?” When the old mechanic nodded his own head, Will held out his hand for a shake, smiling at him. “Thank you for your service.” The two shook hands and one departed.

He stood there for a long time, arms over his chest, a thinking look on his face. This was not something he needed handed off onto him. Where was he supposed to find someone to keep them all afloat on such short notice? He was itching to get going for some reason, but there was no way they could leave now. He knew enough, he supposed, but he didn't feel comfortable having only him there to fix things if something went wrong. That's what he had someone else for. So there were two of them.

Soft footsteps came up behind him and he didn't need to turn to know it was his daughter coming up next to him. Rebeca stopped and looked out where he father unfocusedly looked. “It'll be okay,” she sighed, patting his arm gently. “I can go out and ask around for someone if you like.”

He shrugged and turned to face her some. “Maybe later,” he sighed. “Need to see what kind of shape we're in otherwise before we go asking for hands.”

The man sat at his desk, the quill pen quickly flying across the paper. He usually wrote extremely neat but he was in a hurry. He glanced over his shoulder toward the door, accidentally leaving a slight smudge on the edge of the page. Seeing no one there he quickly went back to the letter. He was near finished. A few quick flourishes later and he was done. He set the pen aside and quickly reread the letter:

April 26th, 1929.
My Dearest Beatrix,

If you are reading this then I have no doubt met my demise.
To think that only next week you will be coming home from the university.
I pray that I will be here to great you and celebrate your birth year but I fear that it won't be.

As you know many people asked me to renew my work now that there is an increase of faith in the mystics but I have refused.
You too have asked me why I have stopped before but I have never given you a clear answer. For that I beg your forgiveness.
What you have could not have known is that I have continued some of my work in secret. Just recently I believe I have stumbled upon something that will show that all those years were not for naught. I was going to show it to you when you returned and together reveal it to the world, thus the surprise I had written to you about. However, I fear that it will not be so.

I believe I'm being watched. I don't have time to go into the reasoning but just know I am not being a paranoid old man. (Though, I pray that I am). To ensure that my research does not fall into the wrong hands, I have hidden it in a secret location. Half the map I have enclosed in this package, half I have sent elsewhere for safekeeping. A dear friend of mine will hold onto this for me in case something happens. I have already given him instructions to hold this and to only give it to you a year after I disappear or die. (They will follow you at first to see if you have any knowledge and I dare not involve you in this). Only after the year transpires should he have this delivered to you.

I ask that you forgive me for my secrecy. Looking back there was so much I wish I could have spoken with you about. I swear that if my fears are for nothing and I do see you next week, I will tell all. I will answer all your questions and tell you stories about your mother that you have always begged me to tell. Oh you would have loved her. She was my light, my angel. You remind me of so much of her...

I must go. I dare not hold this off any longer.
Until next week, my dearest.

Regards,

Papa

The man quickly set the paper down. Picking up a worn photograph he looked at the picture. It was of his wife and two daughters. He brushed it gently. Snapping to, he put it inside the paper and folded it up. Picking up another piece of paper he placed both in an envelope. Sealing it he stood and placed it into his coat. Grabbing his hat, he dashed out the door. Little did he know then that he would only have two days to live.
---
Satisfied that the young woman was who she said she was, the boy held out the package. It was a bit wrinkled and looked like it had seen better days. There was no return sender and the Ms. Beatrix Brown was written in an unfamiliar handwriting. He smiled as she took the letter. "You're welcome, Miss," he replied. He would have stuck around for a tip but a glare from the older woman made him decide that he really didn't need one. He took a step back. "'ave a nice day," he said before dashing off. The day was young and he had a lot to do.

Ms. Mortimer glared at the retreating boy before turning her attention to Beatrix. "Well don't just stand there child," she huffed. "Open it."

There were three things well-known about Ms. Mortimer. One, she had tea every afternoon preciously from three o'clock to three-fifteen and woe to anyone who dared disturb her during that time. The second was her displeasure of young men. Hooligans She would say. Only seeking trouble. But the most known thing about her was her insatious desire to know everything. And considering she was a major gossip, it made living with her extremely difficult.

"Well dear?" She asked closing the door.

Bea looked at the script her name was written in and creased her brows even more. She had assumed maybe it was from Roger or one of her school friends or colleagues perhpas. But it wasn't. She thought maybe that she'd seen this handwriting before in her childhood,but she couldn't place it further than that.

She turned back into the house after the boy had gone, seemingly listening to her house mother, but she was too intranced with the mystery to pay her much mind. She opened the letter, her eyes scanning it quickly even though they were squnited some because she'd left her reading glasses on the table. But it was her father’s familiar hand, so she didn't struggle too much with reading it.

It took her a moment after Ms. Mortimer had spoken again for her to realize what it was that she'd said to her. "Oh, it's just..." she started, chuckling awkwardly, "just research from one of my colleagues. Couldn't wait." She was used to using this line with Ms. Mortimer. Especially if whatever it was might have come from the less fairer sex. But it was often the truth. They just didn't normally send things round this pressingly this early in the morning.

"I should head up to my room to have a look at it. Thank you for breakfast, Ms. Mortimer." And without waiting for a reply she hurried past the older woman to collect her glasses and headed up stairs to reread the letter take a look at the half of the map she now had and get a good look at the picture she'd only glanced at for a moment.

Bea locked her bedroom door behind her, turned on the lamp at her desk and sat in the chair as she stared at the picture. She'd seen maybe one photo of her mother in all her life. But there was no doubt looking at this that the woman was her mother. She remembered her well enough for that. And there she was in her mother's lap with her older sister standing next to them, the pair of them in matching dresses and curls. Her sister looked ever so much like their mother, we're Beatrix had inherited much more of their father's looks. Which was why she'd been the one to stay with him and not the other way around.

She felt tears coming to her eyes before she even looked at anything else. She thought she was past the worst of this grief. The grief of losing all her family. But here she was close to sobbing about it again. Missing her mother and sister had always been a distant ache, something she'd just always had since she'd been so little when they'd left. Even when they'd gotten word that they were presumed dead. She'd cried, but it was as painful as it should have been had they been closer. But her father was still fresh. He'd only been gone a year and now here her wounds were being reopened again.

Maybe she wouldn't go to class today. Once her tears were spent, she looked over the map he'd inclosed as well, studying ever curve and line of it. Where had he sent the other half? How was she to get anywhere if she only had half the information and no way to find out who had the rest of it? Gathering up her thighs she headed out to the university library, she had research to do before lunch. Hopefully she remembered to actually leave in time for lunch.

The Allure was a Flynter class airship. Formally used as an air vessel during the Great War it had since been retired and retrofitted for merchant use. It was one hundred and fourteen meters long with a beam of of twelve meters. As a military vessel it held a complement of about three hundred and twenty-nine but after the modification it only required a crew of about sixty-two. Though not the speediest vessel, the Allure could cross the Atlantic in about seven days, ten if the weather was bad. Whenever it came into port, there usually was a bit of trouble. Thus the reason why the dock foreman liked to have a good security presence around.

Roger stood arms crossed next to another security guard as they watched the Allure get tied down. It came in at a bad timing. Big Ben had just stuck quarter to the hour and he had promised he would meet Bea for lunch. Horus, the other security guard, shook his head as the ropes were secure. "Hope you don't have plans tonight," he said.

Roger didn't reply. He knew as well as Horus that they both would working late.

The dock foreman came over. He crossed his big beefy arms. "Ah, the Allure." He shook his head. "Let's hope they take their festivals off the dock this time." His turned and spat. Secure, the crew started to unload the cargo. The foreman looked at the two. "The unloading will take awhile and we know the captain won't release the crew until the cargo is unloaded." He glanced in the direction of Big Ben. "You both go to lunch. It's going to be a long afternoon."

Horus didn't wait to be told twice. He took off. Roger looked at the foreman. "You sure?" Though soft spoken he spoke confidently and clearly.

The foreman nodded. "Yeah, Thomas and Erik just got back. The three of us can keep an eye on them." He smirked and slapped Roger on the back. "Go. Don't want to keep your girl waiting."

Roger didn't bother correcting him. The more he protested that they were friends the more they hassled him about it. He nodded. "Thank you, Sir. I'll keep it brief."

He walked away briskly. There was a small restaurant near Oxford University that he usually met Bea at. He reached it just as Big Ben chimed the hour. Looking around he felt a bit of relief knowing he hadn't kept her waiting. He headed to a corner table and set his hat aside.

He smiled when he saw her and quickly stood. "Bae." He pulled out her chair. Sitting down he looked across at her. His eyes narrowed slightly at her countenance. Something was bothering her. The waitress deposited their usual food down. Roger nodded his thanks and poured the tea. After a quick blessing he looked across at Bae. He knew this had to be a hard time for. The anniversary of her father's death had just occurred and it didn't help she had her final examinations next week. However, he didn't press. He knew she would talk about it when she was ready. He picked up a sandwich.
~~~~~~
Estella kept her face impassive as she listened to her dismissal, mixed in with a few racial slurs and curse words. She wasn't disappointed. In fact, she was a bit relieved. She had learned early on in the trip that this wasn't going to work. If they hadn't beaten her to it, she would have resigned anyway. As it was though, she had been lucky they waited until they were back in London before they dumped her. It would have been very difficult to find passage back from the States.

As the first mate finished, she accepted her pay and picked up her bag. Escorted off the ship she didn't even look back, ignoring the rest of the crew and the remarks they made she left the Allure behind. She did not immediately leave the docks but instead walked among the airships, admiring the range and working her way to the small shop at the end. As she walked in through the door, she tapped the rusty sign proclaiming Parts & Repairs, making it swing as she entered.

A short man wearing googles and worn overalls looked up from a piece of scrap. A smile crossed his wrinkled face, showing a mouth missing a few teeth. "Estella!" He said upon seeing her.

Estella gave a smile. "Rufus." She looked around the shop. "Anything troublesome you needed help on?"

"Always." The old man waved her over toward the back room. "I can always use your help on a few things." He stood by the door taping his fingers together, watching her closely. "I kept most everything the same." He watched as Estella pulled down the bunk and then put it back. She turned and looked at him. "How long can you stay?" he asked.

Estella chuckled at his eagerness. "I have no current prospects at the second. So I guess I can stay a couple days." She laughed at his look of pleasure. Setting her bag down she looked at the pile of junk he had stacked for her. "Let's see what toys you have for me."

Bea had been very focused. Looking through old maps, old travel journals and the like. Things so old the cramped script was faded and difficult to read in some places. She was used to this sort of thing, but still, after a few hours of that and writing in one of her own many journals, her eyes hurt. She pursed her glasses up into hey hair and rubbed at get eyes some. This was going to take a deal of work on her own.

She let out a heavy breath, looking up at the clock on the wall as it quietly clicked over to the next minute. She had five minutes to get her stuff back together and make it to lunch. She grabbed all her papers and shoved them into her bag, then gathered up her books and dropped them as easily as she could onto the returns cart at the end of the table before she hurried out the door.

Thankfully it wasn't too far for her to go, her skirt hindered her a little bit and not for the first time she cursed that she couldn't just easily wear pants more often. But she made it still. Of course Roger had beat her there, which didn't surprise her any. He often beat her anywhere they were meeting. But he didn't seem like he'd been there too terribly long.

When he said her name she gave him what she hoped was an unaffected smile, though she was sure it probably didn't come off as nicely as she would have wanted. Her mind was so preoccupied with the letter and even more so with telling him. Because she knew she could trust him with this. And she knew she couldn't keep this bottled up either. It was much too big for that.

“I'm so sorry for my tardiness,” she said as she sat, sounding a little out of breath. The waitress knew them well enough that they didn't even have to order and their food was there. She murmured a thank you before she walked away, and then another to Roger for the tea.

She waited a moment more, biting at her lip some, waiting for what felt the right moment, but she couldn't keep it in anymore. “I received a letter this morning,” she said, stirring the cream into her tea slowly, deliberately. “Indirectly from my father.”

Roger took a bite as he sat there enjoying Bea's company. I received a letter today. Her words caused him to look up. A letter? Indirectly from my father. Not expecting that, Roger nearly dropped his sandwich. He set it down in front of him and looked at her. Receiving a letter from her father, even indirectly, though no doubt good, probably brought back many painful memories. "What did it say?" He asked. He hoped that it was warm wishes, something to bring back the good memories she had of him, not the painful ones. When she handed him the letter, he took it gently. Glancing at her face once more he had a sinking feeling even before he started to read.

His eyes scanned the text fairly quickly, his heart sinking lower as went along. This was not good at all. This did not help. He handed her back the letter. The fact her father felt he was being watched, and assumed he might die was not lost on Roger. Considering they had found his body two days later was not coincidental. He thought about that. The doctor had ruled it as natural causes, but was it? They had done no autopsy. They had just assumed. There was no sign of duress or anything that would lead to them questioning it. He reached out and touched Bae's hand offering comfort.

In a way, he too felt the loss. Though not family, the eccentric professor had been a bit of a father-figure for him. Roger had the privilege of being able to work with him on some of his experiments before going into the army. His death had been unexpected. Though, nothing he felt could have been what Bae had felt. He had lost a father, he understood. But to have one's father murdered? Assuming of course that was the case, which was now looking that way. Roger couldn't imagine. He knew how his father had died. It was war. It wasn't personal. Not like this.

He didn't say I'm sorry. He knew it didn't help. He just sat there, his hand on hers providing comfort. "What are you going to do about the map?" he asked. He knew her. She wasn't going to just leave it as was. It was a tie to her father, another way to remember him...maybe even to honor him. Or so he thought.

When she mentioned not knowing where to look, he frowned, finally removing his hand. Didn't want to make her feel awkward. A few moments, yes. Too long and it might no longer be received as comforting. "Who delivered it? Can you follow up with him? Maybe he knows where to look."

Bea sighed heavily, still not having started to eat anything, or even had taken a sip of her tea. There was just so much going on in her head that she couldn't do much of anything much. Her father's words spun through her head, the picture of her mother and sister swam before her eyes, and she was trying so hard to just figure it all out at once. She just watched him read over the letter.

She looked to her bag that was on the floor next to her feet, thinking of all the research and notes she had in there. It felt like she had read over so much this morning and she hadn't gotten anywhere at all. There were so many variables that she had no control over that she couldn't pin anything solid down. And it felt terrible. All of this felt terrible. Bring up all this pain. All these memories. And introducing the idea that her father might not have passed as peacefully as they assumed.

Her father had not been one for baseless paranoia. And he had felt like there was someone after him. Someone dangerous enough that he had delayed this letter a year to make sure that she was safe from them. But she feared that she wasn't maybe as safe as he had hoped she be. If they were willing to kill him over this, then they would likely be keeping some sort of eye on her even passingly. She was not outside their scope of vision. She just wasn't a target anymore.

She looked down at Roger’s hand on hers, a small smile on her face despite the storm within it was nice having him in her life. Having someone who had known and loved her father as well. Someone still from her past who could understand at least part of what she was going through. He was probably her closest friend and she was glad to have him there.

“I doubt he knows anything,” she said with a sigh, finally picking up her tea after he removed his hand. “He was just a simple delivery boy. The handwriting on the address was not my father's though. But it felt somehow familiar. Like I'd read things in it before at sometime in my childhood.” She sipped at her drink and put it down on the saucer again. “We could perhaps ask at the delivery offices to see if they had more information.” And she said we because she had just assumed that he would be doing this with her.

Roger leaned back, thoughtfully. He didn't even blink when she mentioned we. It was automatically assumed that he would be with her on this journey. Together they would figure out what who sent the letter and find what they needed to recover the research her father had hidden. He just hoped that no trouble would come while they were at it. If Dr. Brown believed there was enough of a threat that he had his friend hold the letter for a year after his death, then Roger needed need to stay alert and make sure no harm came to Bea. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to her.

He turned his thoughts back to her comment. He was the type to take his time thinking through things. He didn't rush, he didn't blurt out whatever came to his mind first. He thought about it, pondered it, and then - if necessary - spoke. That was what he liked about Bae. Most people got annoyed that he didn't always blurt out ideas or offer his opinion right away but she didn't mind. He looked up. "You recognized the handwriting," he said more as an observation. "Hmm. We could but it's doubtful they'll know. Unless it's a smaller courier service." He frowned thoughtfully. "Do you you still have your father's letters - the ones he got from his university roommates? Maybe it's one of them."

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. They hadn't been in touch much when he worked there. In fact, he only remembered Dr. Brown mentioning them one time and how they had been close. Dr. Brown wouldn't send it to someone he was in close contact with. That would be among the first places his enemies would look. No, he would send it to someone older - someone he trusted but didn't stay in contact with.

Beatrix hummed in thought some, lips pursed a bit for just a moment. “I do have his old papers, but they're packed up for the time being.” She had kept everything she'd thought of either educational value or of personal value for her. She had to cling to every little thing she could of her father because Roger was all that she had left of a living reminder of him now. And besides, her father had been a very bright man. Even if she couldn't use his work, someone could eventually. He had done important work regardless of what his peers had thought.

But he certainly had a point, that it could be from one of the few friends that her father had retained after his public withdrawal. Maybe someone he'd not openly associated with for a very long time that he still trusted greatly. And maybe that was why it had been distant but familiar to her. She would have to look through her father's papers then, all of them. No doubt about that.

“You are working late tonight aren't you?” she asked, looking up at him. “Because I really should be doing revisions for my exams but I am anxious to figure this out as well. It would go faster if you could help.” But it would be just her luck that he'd be working late like he often did. “Not of course that Ms. Mortimer will be happy with me being out with you too late. But this is more important than her sensibilities.” And if she was going to be a pain about it, Bea might just tell her where she could shove that complaint.



Aboard the Valkyrie

Things had looked good enough that Will has determined that they could travel on their own, look for a new mechanic in the next port stop. He was feeling restless, he needed to go. And since he had no immediate work, he figured they could take to the sky and go seek work elsewhere. He'd been entrusted to do basically whatever he wanted with the Valkyrie. As long as he was making money for everyone, and not ruining anyone's good name, it didn't matter much how he did it or what he did.

So they sailed on, using the air currents to make their trip easy and eventually they made their way to the British Isles. They took port again and Will set Rebeca out to get the word out about their open position. He found that it was easier for her to catch people's interest. Between getting men's attention and making any women feel at better ease with her, she just had a way to make people like her within moments of meeting her. She stood a much better chance of finding someone. And then it was just to wait.

Roger sighed. "I really wish I could help." He glanced toward the docks. "The Allure is back in town and they cause so much trouble. Dock Foreman wants to make sure there's enough security presence to keep them in line. I might be able to get out of there by seven but I don't think your landlady will be real happy with me coming by. It's not really proper." He could just hear her now.

As it was, every time that he stopped by to see Beatrix, the woman would give him such an earful about how he would need to watch himself, keep his hands to himself, and on and on. It didn't help to tell her that they were just friends. It didn't matter that Roger was a gentleman and would conduct himself as such. No. The woman seemed to have it out for him - or maybe it was just men in general. But that didn't really stop him from going to see Bea or coming over when she requested - though they were restricted to the main room - which was fine. Bea was his friend and he wasn't going to let some person get in the way of that. Though, he did understand her point, a bit anyway. Appearances had to be kept - not that anything would happen - but just because. Besides, Roger didn't want any rumors started that might ruin Bea's reputation.

Big Ben struck half past. Roger looked at Beatrix. "If you want, I can see about coming over after but I don't want to get you into trouble and I doubt Ms. Mortimer would let me stay long." He gave her a pointed look. "Though, you might fixate on your examinations first. Don't want to do poorly because you didn't study." He gave her a smile, guessing how she would probably take that.

~~~~
He was a thin wirey, slightly sickly looking man. He smiled at the captain and handed over some papers. "My references," he said. "Served in the Royal Air Force during the war - making my way to main mechanic for the Flynter class airship. I oversaw all the mechanical duties aboard the HMS Havock. You can see there I was awarded several medals and commendations for my job." He puffed his thin chest out, obviously proud of his accomplishments. "After the war, I worked on a few different merchant vessels, all as first or second mechanic. The captain of my last ship just retired about four months ago. I din't really want to sign up for some big ship. I'm looking more for something smaller - something more manageable - like your ship." Again he smiled. "So when I heard your lovely daughter mentioning you needed a good mechanic I thought, this was what I've been looking for." He nodded toward the ship. "And might I say, she's a beaut."

He had several references. One from the captain of the HMS Havock raving over how great of job he did. There was a couple others from various merchant airships - all fairly larger class. Fredrick waited patiently while the captain read his references. He wasn't worried that he never worked a smaller ship. He had the experience. Bah. He could do anything. He was fairly confident that the job would be his.

Beatrix frowned slightly, nibbling at her sandwich to avoid having to answer right away. It was nice sometimes, when there were boys, and they were boys because any real gentleman would take no for answer, we're too persistent at their attempts at wooing her, that Ms. Mortimer was so hard pressed against the other sex. But not when it was one of her colleagues, with whom nothing was going to happen. And even worse when it was Roger, with whom she trusted her life, and even if there was interest, they knew the rules.

“You are right,” she huffed, rolling her eyes and looking away from him and out the window herself. She really should study, she knew. Her exams were important. But she was studying purely because it was what was expected of her, not because she really felt like she needed to do so.

Blowing a very unladylike raspberry at him she looked back and gave him a crooked little smile. “Besides, it's waited this long, a few more days won't hurt it any.” She took a drink of her tea, pursing her lips some. “You have to get back to work now?”



Will leaned against the railing, looking over the papers in his hands for a moment before pulling glasses out of his pocket to help him read the smaller print. He hated to admit he needed then most of the time, but it made things easier when he just gave in and wore them.

He pursed his lips slightly, looking over the man before him. He was fairly certain he was here specifically because of Rebeca, but he did have good references. And they did need someone. “Well I suppose that we can give you a whirl if you're so inclined,” he shrugged, handing back his papers and tucking glasses back into his pocket. “I'll show you around now, yeah.”

He turned then and took the other man along through the halls and tighter corridors of the Valkyrie. He might be experienced, but Will always felt better when he'd shown the new folks around. The last stop was the engine room where Will let him look everything over while he explained any of the problems that they had had over the last few weeks.

Roger nodded regretfully. In reality he would rather spend the rest of the afternoon with Bea. Help her sort through the old letters, listen to her talk. But no. Reality. Good news was that his job at the docks ended in a few weeks. He hadn't figured out what he was going to do next but he was going to spend a few days with Bae before looking again. Or longer, if they were going to look into her father's death. That still brought a chill to Roger. If Professor Brown was killed like they suspected then the killers were still out there. They could be after Bea. All the more reason he was glad the semester was almost over.

He brought his attention back to the present. "Yes, regrettably. The last time the Allure was in town they caused such a ruckus. We only have two guys at the docks now and I'd hate for them to be by themselves if something breaks out." Not wanting to concern her, he shrugged and gave her a smile. "Not that we should be worried. They had some consequences last time that should keep them in line. Dock Foreman was pretty firm to the Captain that there will be repercussions if they cause trouble this time. But better to be safe then sorry."

He pulled out some money and placed it on the table for the bill. He never let her pay. Call him old fashioned but that was just who he was. He gave her a slight bow. "I'll see if I can catch you afterward. But don't wait up for me. If it's too late, I'll see you tomorrow." He raised an eyebrow. "And focus on your exams."

With that, he tipped his hat and left. He walked with a purpose, straight and tall. But his mind was still back at the table. He honestly hoped that nothing happened to her. He hoped she stayed safe. A smile formed. At least Ms. Mortimer was vigilant. If anyone came by she'd drive them off. In most cases, it was annoying - especially if he wanted to visit with her. But in others, it might come in handy.
----
He nodded and accepted the papers back with a smile. "Thank you, Sir. I won't disappoint." He followed the captain on the tour. It was a very nice little airship. Well maintained. He shouldn't have any issues. In the past, he always had helpers who usually did the grunt work but he noted that this wasn't going to be the case here. Oh well. He still was the best. He lifted his chin a bit smugly. Every airship that he had been on had been well taken care of because of his expertise.

He entered the engine room. He nodded as he listened. "I can get started on those right away," he smiled. "I guarantee that you'll never find another mechanic as qualified as me." He looked around the room once more before looking back at the captain. They would probably haggle a bit before securing a bargain rate-wise but he wasn't concerned. His credentials were amazing and he was the best. Besides, he doubted anyone else would want to work on a bucket of bolts like this anyway.

The week had been busy. As much as Roger would have preferred, Bea was mightily distracted from her revisions. She tried hard, even decided to not go and gather up her father’s paperwork until after she'd sat her last exam. But that hadn't stopped her mind from wandering to all the possibilities of just what had happened to her father, of what it was that had been deemed so important that he had to be murdered for it.

She knew she'd not done as well on her exams as she possibly could have, but she also wasn't too worried about failing them either. She might have scored half a dozen points lower than she could have, but she'd still get high marks and in the end it wouldn't matter much one way or the other. She'd have no problem getting her degree in the end.

But finally, her last exam was over and she waited no time getting to work on this mystery of her father’s. Thankfully it had been a morning one a d she'd skipped right over lunch and instead gone right to work. Despite the issues that had occurred between her father and the University in the years before his death, they had been kind enough to allow Beatrix to store the bulk of the papers in a secure place on campus mostly used for professors who were either out in the field doing research or on sabbatical. They'd seen the error of their ways before his passing of course, but by then, her father had wanted nothing to do with them. Bea had thought nothing of the schools offer to keep his things, there had been nothing of her to be suspicious of at the time, and there had been nothing that had set her off about it either. She had known the men who came to her door a few months after his funeral her whole life, she knew deep down that they were just doing her a kindness, even if it was a selfish one in the hopes that after she'd had time to go through it, that she'd donate over whatever of his research she wanted to to the school itself. Not because they wanted him dead, she was sure, but just because they understood the value of the knowledge in general that her father had gathered over his years. And besides, aside from the custodian, she had the only key to the room in which everything was kept.

She'd sent word the night before to Roger to meet her there at noontime, and to bring light snacks if he so desired. He tended to grumble about not eating when she got distracted more than she noticed that it had maybe been several hours since she had last eaten. So she went on ahead of him, turning on the lights and getting started going through the list of what was where so she knew which boxes they'd need to go through back in her rooms. She was pleased to find that the room was untouched when she entered. Not even the custodian had been in since she'd locked the door roughly seven months ago. Who ever was after this, had either not been able to get in here, or hadn't yet figured out to look here. Either way, she needed to be careful, so she locked the door behind her, placed her glasses on her nose and began her work as she waited for her companion to join her.



Things had been sailing smoothly aboard the Valkyrie. They'd had a short two day trip to the continent, a delivery of persons more than goods and on their return, work had started again on the engines.

Of course parts were needed, and Will left it up to their new mechanic to handle it. It was his job after all and if he couldn't handle that, then he was rather useless. And he'd been pretty good so far.

He was done. Finished. Today had been Roger's last day working as a security guard at the docks. He had planned it to correlate with Bea finishing her final examinations. His manager had been said to see him go but Roger felt it was time. And it actually worked out as well - now he had a bit of extra time to help Bea. It still brought concern whenever he thought about her father's letter. He regretted not having a lot of time to keep an eye on her this past week - not that she wasn't capable of taking care of herself. He just felt protective and he didn't want anything to happen to her.

After saying goodbye to his coworkers and former boss, Roger made his way from the docks. He received Bea's message about meeting at the university and he guessed it had something to do with her father's things and his latest letter. If they could figure out what friend sent it, they could backtrack it and maybe find the other half of the map - thus another good reason he was finished with his job. He wondered what the map would lead to. What had Professor Brown discovered that someone would kill for? Mysticism was on the rise. Roger was aware that it was becoming very popular and people were looking into it for different reasons - some for weaponry to break this cold war. As much as the mystery fascinated him, he wasn't to excited about the fact that Bea was caught up in the middle of all this.

Glancing at Big Ben, he noted the time. No doubt Bea was caught up working that she failed to notice the time. He smiled slightly. Typical. She'd probably work through lunch if he didn't show up. Stopping by the little cafe, he picked up some sandwiches. The waitress smiled at him as she handed him the back. He was oblivious to the fact she liked him but that wasn't unusual. Smiling, he thanked her and headed toward the university.

Oxford University was a very prestigious university. It was one that had offered Doctor Brown a position when mysticism started to become more popular. But of course, by that time, the Professor really didn't want anything to do with them - or anyone for that matter. When the university offered to hold the belongings for Bea, Roger had been a bit surprised. He hoped they wouldn't just dig through them trying to get what they wanted. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. Sure, they probably hoped they would get some research but they had kept everything locked up with no one disturbing it without Bea's permission. In fact, they had even given her a locked room to store it so no one else could access it.

He walked down the long hallway he balanced some drinks in one hand and the bag of sandwiches in the other. Passing several doors, Roger didn't bothering to look at them. He knew where to go. Though he had only been there once, the way was still crystal clear for him. It was always like that. If he went somewhere once, he remembered how to get there again. Coming to the end of the hallway, he moved the to his left hand so he could knock. He knocked firmly on the door - not to loud to scare her but still a solid knock. "Bea. It's me." He said. "And I brought lunch." His smile was evident in his voice.
----
Estella carried the box through the docks making her way toward Landing Platform 32E. She still hadn’t really found another position yet – anywhere. Not that she had been looking a lot. Rufus had been keeping her fairly busy with repairs and deliveries. She smiled. He was such a good friend. Of course, if he had his way she would stay working for him. Well honestly, that’s what he always said though she knew he wanted what was best for her – in his gruff old way. Though he was going to be sad when she moved on. And she would. There was only so much work he can have her do. All his complex problems, she fixed already and he really didn’t have the work to support her. No. Another day or two and she’ll probably move on. She probably could find something here in London – it was a big enough city and though there was a lot of conservative mind sets, there were many who wouldn’t mind bringing on a tinkerer – female or not. But no, she didn’t want to stay. London was a bit too big for her. You can take the girl out of the country but not the country out of the girl.

She reached the platform. Shifting the box slightly, she paused a moment to admire the airship. It was an older model, a bit banged up in a spot or two but still in decent shape. She smiled. Juggling the box of parts to one side, she rested it on her hip before running her other hand along the hull in an almost caressing manner. She loved old things. Something like this had a lot of personality to it. And that made it almost lifelike – real. Of course she could be just a crazy ol’ tinkerer. “Hello there.” She whispered in Danish, her hand feeling the slight vibration of the ship’s engine. Her voice was low, quiet - as someone sharing a secret. “Where have you been? What story do you tell?"

The box started to slip so she quickly grabbed. Reluctantly, she adjusted the box back to both hands. It wasn't that heavy. Apparently they hadn't needed that many parts. Still - it had been a bit of a walk from the shop and her arms were getting a bit tired. Besides, they probably wanted to get moving some time today. She gave the ship a slight smile before turning. The smile faded slightly as she spotted someone - a young woman - watching her from the doorway of the airship. She didn't blush but Estella did feel a bit of embarrassment as she wondered how long the woman had been watching her. Sure she was used to getting strange looks but she felt a bit more vulnerable when other women were involved, especially ones that looked a bit aristocratic. And this young woman might not have been, but her dress, looks, and even the way she stood made Estella painfully aware she was wearing a stained blouse and trousers. That was the problem and a main reason she didn't have a lot of female friends. She was a tinkerer. She was around grease, junk, and mechanics. She rarely wore dresses and her hair was usually always pulled back or just fell in a mess around her. Most females didn't understand that - well most people didn't - and even if they didn't say anything Estella always felt they looked down on her. She pushed the thoughts back. You'd think she would have gotten over this by now but apparently not.

Now none of the conflicting emotions showed on her face. Other than a brief surprise, her face had a polite, closed look. She gave smile, one never guessing the irritation and inadequacy she had just been feeling. "Hi, delivery from Repairs and Parts. Is Captain Axfield or your mechanic around?” She asked. She still had her Danish accent, though it wasn't as overpowering as it once had been. She shifted slightly and maintained eye contact. She was good at this game. She had learned long ago how to hide her thoughts and keep her face impassive.

Beatrix was deep into work, peering through her glasses and matching up records with boxes and pulling out things that caught her eye as she went. She already had a nice pile of things set up on a desk. There was just so much paperwork. So much research. A man's entire life was stored away in boxes in front of her. How was she to go through all of this and find just what it was that that she needed? And how was she to go through it without crying thinking of her father?

She jumped a little at his knock, spinning on her heel with her hand over her suddenly fast beating heart. But Roger’s voice came through to her and calmed her down. Her heart was still thudding against her ribs, but she knew she had nothing to fear with him there. She placed the papers she was holding down, pushing her glasses up into her hair which was now in a state of disarray as she came over to open the door for him.

“Ah refreshments,” she smiled, reaching to take the drinks from him at least so he didn't have to balance them quite so awkwardly anymore. She stepped back and gestured him in. Once he was in she closed and locked the door again, taking the drinks over to put on the desk next to the pile of papers.

“Don't mind the mess,” she said, perching herself on the edge of the desk, letting out a deep sigh. “There is just ever so much to go through.”



Rebeca hadn't been watching too terribly long, but she saw enough. The girl caressed the ship like her father did when he thought no one was looking. It was sweet she thought, and she smiled at her when she noticed her there.

She pushed off the door frame as Estella approached, brushing down the front of her simple cotton skirt as she did so. She didn't mind at all how the other girl was dressed, it didn't make any difference to her. She smiled at her more when she spoke, chuckling at the butchering of her family name. She could tell by her accent that English was not her first language, even though she spoke it wonderfully.

“It's Axford,” she corrected gently. “And he's a little engaged at the moment but I can help you take it down to our mechanic.” The girl held her hands out as an offer to take the box from her since she'd lugged it all the way here. “The p ways can be a little tight in spots if you don't know then well.”

Roger gratefully let Bea take the drinks. He stepped in as she closed the door behind him. He looked around. It was apparent that she had been sifting through a lot of stuff. He could see stacks here and there, opened boxes and papers - more papers than one would expect. Who knew all those boxes had so much papers in them. He glanced over at Beatrix. He smiled to give her a bit of comfort. "Don't worry. We'll be able to get through it all. But first," he held up the bag. "You should eat." He smiled and handed her one of the wrapped sandwiches. "You can't do much on an empty stomach." He took the other sandwich and glanced around. There was a chair, but he left it for Bea. Spotting a pallet he made his way over to it, stepping over a couple boxes as he went. Sitting down and saying the blessing he looked over at Bea. "How did the examinations go?"

He hadn't seen her nearly all week. He had been busy with the Allure in town. Thankfully, they only had to break up a couple fights, escort a couple drunken crewmen off premises and otherwise keep the peace. But that was done now. He was free. He leaned back and listened to her talk about her finals. Some men might feel a bit intimidated by smart females. A lot of people thought that females should stick to "women" things and leave the questions of science to men. But Roger didn't care. He wasn't intimidated by Bea's intelligence. He was actually proud of her and he knew her father would be as well.

When the conversation moved back to the task at hand, he looked back at the papers. "So find anything that might give you a clue to who sent the letter for your father or anything in his notes regarding this research?" He doubted there was any notes specific. If there had been, it no doubt would have been looked through. Besides, why would Doctor Brown take the time to send a cryptic note with a partial map if he had additional information for them to easily find. The professor was smart. If he left clues, it would take some digging. Thankfully, there was two of them and Roger had all the time in the world. Well...until he ran out of rent money but he wasn't concerned.
---
Axford. Axford. Estella mentally tucked the name in her mind in case she would need to remember it again. She smiled and shifted the box slightly away from the woman. "Thank you. Lead the way." She didn't hand over the box. Having worked among men so long she was used to doing things herself - and in some rarities having to prove herself. Not that she was doing that here. No it was more her job. Besides, she would feel strange letting someone else carry it leaving her to do nothing. She was a bit practical. Not to mention, this gave her an excuse to see the inside of the ship. Not that she would admit that. She hefted the box up, ignoring her arms. It wouldn't be that much longer anyway.

She followed the young woman into the airship. Estella had been on a few airships before. It was a major way of travel and she had worked on one for a short stint. But cruise airships or even freight airships like the Allure had been a lot larger. This one was nice sized for an airship but small comparatively. It had also been built to maximize space. As she made it past another very tight corner, Estella was glad the woman was taking it slow. She had been right that some of the spots were a bit tight. On her own, Estella would have been fine but with a box of parts, that were threatening to slip was a bit more tricky.

Using another tight spot as an excuse, Estella got a better grip. She was inherently lost now. She was never good with directions inside a building or airship. She was just glad her chauffeur knew the way. She was a bit focused she missed the words directed to her. "Sorry, what?"

She stuck her tongue out at his reprimanding of her not eating. He was always on her about not eating. But how could she stop to eat when there was so much important stuff to be doing? There was so much to go through, so much to look at. And she was supposed to just walk away from all of that for something as trivial as food?

“Ahhh,” she started, sipping at her drink so she could stall for a moment before answering. “They went alright. I’m sure I could have done better, but I passed. I know that for certain. I was a little distracted with all that is going on…” She went on rambling about certain test and certain teaches for a few moments, complaining that about some silliness or the other.

“...Especially when I have this,” she gestured around her at her father’s things, “to be dealing with.”

She sighed at his question, finally opening the sandwich up and taking a few bites while she shrugged her shoulders some. “I’ve found some things, but nothing definitive,” she mumbled around a mouth full of food before swallowing. “It would take more in depth comparison than I’ve done so far. I was thinking of taking back the things that stuck out most to my rooms where we could look at it there.”



“I said we’re here,” Rebeca repeated, smiling at her over her box. “Just through here. Frederick seems to have stepped out, but you could at least put the box down for now.” She stepped back into the crowded engine room, giving Estella the room to come in and deposit the box down on the cluttered work bench that ran along a portion of the wall.

The sound of heavy footsteps came up behind the girls and then the form of the mechanic appeared in the doorway. “Rebeca, luv,” he said, smiling at her first before looking to Estella in the room as well. “And my parts. Good lad...beg my pardon, lass.”

He came into the room, taking the box of parts and began to rummage through it. He started to mumble to himself and Rebeca was certain he didn't know that he was doing it.

Roger nodded and completed his sandwich. He put the wrapper into the brown back and snatching Bea's, placed it in as well. Wiping his hands on his pants, he looked at the mess. "That might be a good idea." He looked her way. "Though I doubt Ms. Mortimer will be appreciative of me stopping by and her lounge isn't the best place to look at something like this." He gave her a smile. "But doesn't mean we can't do a lot of searching before hand. That way when you do head back, you'll have a lot to work through." He looked at the mess again. Picking up the envelope that had brought Bea's father's last note he studied the handwriting so he could remember it when he looked. He set it back down. "So, what would you like me to do?"

Going through papers might seem very tedious to some, but Roger didn't mind. He was enjoying the company. He sat on the ground going through a box listening to Bea talk. She was a very brilliant young woman - when she wasn't scatterbrained. He smiled. She did enough talking for both of them which he didn't mind. He enjoyed hearing her talk about whatever was on her mind at the moment. Of course, right now a lot of it revolved around her father and this mystery.

He genuinely hoped they could find the research her father had done. Not so much for the world - they didn't really need it. Oh, they wanted it but he wasn't doing this for them. No, he knew that if they found the Professor's research than that might give additional closure for Bea. Re-connect her with her father. And that alone was worth it. It was just a shame that they had some unknown enemy to worry about. Realizing he was crumpling a paper, he loosened his grip and set it aside. Nothing was going to happen to her - not if he had anything to say about it. She didn't have anyone else. And even if she did, he was her friend and woe to anyone who hurt her.
---
Estella felt a bit of relief as she entered the engine room. Setting the box down she crossed her arms, rubbing them slightly. She looked around in awe at the engine. It was magnificent. Beautiful. Amazing. The sound of heavy footsteps caused her to look away. She stepped aside as a man entered. She almost corrected him when he called her a lad but he did it himself. Then he turned and looked at the parts. Estella shrugged. She was used to people thinking she was male - at least at first glance. What annoyed her was when they didn't realize it after the second. It wasn't like her hair was short or her face was masculine. Trousers or not, she was obviously female and though she might not have - as her mother put it - been endowed like Rachel of old - she still caught a man's eye occasionally - which wasn't always good.

She glanced at the mechanic a moment seeing if he had any issues with the order. It was exact but she knew if someone dropped off a box, she'd would go through it to make sure everything was there. It wasn't always "complete" as it should be. While she waited slightly, she heard a very slight irregulation in the engine's sound. Frowning she walked over to it and placed her ear next to it. It was faint but she heard it. She always did have a good ear.

"What are you doing?" The mechanic asked glaring at her. He paused and glanced toward Rebekah as if remembering she was there. "Shouldn't you be on your way?" He asked a bit more politely.

"You're engine's off." Estella replied. "You have something loose in the..." she paused frowning as her brain searched for the correct English translation. The mechanic raised his eyebrow mockingly. Ignoring him, Estella found the word. She then mentioned it. It was a spot that wasn't easy to get too but was critical in take off and landing. "If you don't fix it, you'll have issues with your takeoff."

The mechanic gave her a look. "How would you know?" He scoffed. He looked her over. "What do you know? You're just a..." he paused. He was about to say girl but he didn't want to come off sexist while Rebekah stood there. "a delivery girl." He paused and listened again. It wasn't audible - the only reason Estella picked it up was because she had extremely well hearing. He shook his head. "No." He gave her a condescending smile. "Leave the mechanic work to the experts, lass."

Estella kept the annoyance off her face. It wouldn't cause any major issues. The airship wouldn't get very high and it wouldn't crash otherwise she would have argued it more. But she wasn't the mechanic. It wasn't her ship. Though, the damage it was going to cost irritated her. Shrugging, she headed toward the door. "Just saying, I doubt you'll get five feet off the ground without an issue." She glanced at Rebekah briefly before heading out the door. She paused. "Uh, how do I get out again?"

The mechanic snorted. He turned away muttering something about incompetent delivery kids who think they knew everything. Remembering his manners he turned back. "Miss Rebekah."

“Ms. Mortimer can…” she started, sighing. She was frustrated with the old woman at the moment. Especially when it came to Roger calling. Had he not proved himself enough that she could let him come in without Bea having to deal with the complaining from her for days after. “It'll be fine. We'll just leave the door open if we need to. It isn't like we're going to be up to anything compromising.” This was stated factually, not like she thought the idea silly. Just that they wouldn’t be doing anything but working.

After another hour or so of looking, and Bea chatting on about her theories of who the letter could have come through, she decided that they probably had all they needed for now abs began to gather up the piles together to head back to get rooms where they could work in a bit more comfort.

“Hopefully,” she started, packing all the loose papers up into one of her school bags, leaving the folders and anything self contained for Roger to deal with. “Everyone will be out of the house and Ms. Mortimer will be taking an afternoon nap so we can get you up without too much drama.”



Rebeca watched the exchange and raised a eyebrow up at Frederick's attitude. He had on occasion been rather...sexist with her. She was used to it, used to being treated like she was nothing more than a pretty face and had no brains in her head. But that never made it alright. And it certainly didn’t make it alright when he was rude to Estella. She had only been trying to help, nothing more. And it was something that she didn’t have to do at all.

“Come on,” she said to Estella with a sigh, taking the other girl by the elbow and bringing her swiftly out of the engine room. Once they were out of earshot she slowed a little and let go of her elbow. “I'm sorry for the way he acted,” she said with a sigh. “He's not normally so...pigish. His eyes might linger, but he typically keeps his trap shut.”

She lead her along to the bridge, instead of out of the ship. “Just gotta take a quick detour,” she said by way of explanation. When she made it there, she stuck her head in and took a look around before heading in. “Ah glad you're here, Daddy,” she said to tall man who looked rather like her.

He turned to her, having obviously just gotten in. He looked confused as he looked from her to Estella behind her. But he didn't say anything right away.

“This is Captain Axford,” Rebeca said to Estella. Just in case the girl needed to see her father again. Their mechanic might not stay, but her father would die on the Valkyrie. She flounced over to him and had a quickly whispered conversation with him.

He looked between his daughter and Estella before nodding his head in agreement. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his billfold. He pulled out a few bills and handed them over to Rebeca, who came back over to Estella, giving her the cash.

“A tip,” she said with a sweet smile. “For dealing with...you know, that.”