Aralynn was startled awake by a deep, resonant tone. It took her a moment to realize where she was.
Right, I'm still on the Blue Locust 2… What was that? The sound rang out again, and Aralynn, only half-awake, tried to discern what it was. The brainfog was still there, as she felt like she'd just had the best sleep she'd had in a long while, and her brain seemed to refuse to wake up.
Aralynn blinked rapidly. Her new rifle, Objection, lay next to her. Only after hearing it a third time did her brain kick in. Brushing aside the curtains of her porthole, she peered outside to confirm her suspicions. The morning fog hung heavily in the high-altitude air. A pinprick of light snaked through the air, eventually resting on the Blue Locust 2.
Narrowing her eyes, Aralynn was slowly filled with dread. The searchlight seemed to rest squarely on Aralynn, and two smaller lights flashed in a pattern that Aralynn was familiar with: cease and desist.
Two and two clicked together. The sound that she'd heard earlier was a foghorn, probably from an imperial inspection airship. There was a light bump, then thud from a gang plank and grappling hooks being thrown onto the deck.
"Fuck."
Aralynn jolted upright, shaking off the last of her sleep. She threw on her cloak and weapons with practiced speed. On impulse, she tugged a strap loose from her pack and threaded it through the metal rings at the base of Objection- hopefully meant for a carry sling. No time to second-guess. She bolted into the hallway.
Luckily, she wasn't the only one. Amon was also up, and he startled her in the hallway. "Was that a foghorn? What's going on? I saw flashes of light."
"Wake up the crew," Aralynn said grimly. "I'll wake the rest of our party. We're about to be boarded by an imperial inspection ship."
"Fuck. Got it." Without another word, Amon raced off to the crew's separate wing of crew quarters.
Arlaynn knocked on the room next to hers, which was Perona's.
"Perona! Perona!" she whispered.
Perona opened the door, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She was dressed… rather lightly. Aralynn flushed red and covered her eyes.
"Whas goin onnnnnnn~" Perona yawned.
"We're being boarded by imperial inspectors. Get dressed."
"Oh, fuck. Be right with you." Perona snapped awake at once, closing the door. Aralynn could hear the rustling of her tossing on clothes.
Aralynn woke up Grango and Hadarai as well. Hadarai quickly strapped on his armour, grabbed his sword and shield, and ran for the cargo hold, intending to hide the crates or at the very least stand guard or find Amon.
Grango snapped awake as well, and quickly got his gear ready, leaving Derrick to his own devices in his room, locking it behind him.
Perona burst out of her room, glancing about wildly. "Are they here yet? Where's the crew?"
"No idea," Aralynn responded. "Amon went to get them, I think."
"Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit- what do we do?" Perona tied back her hair.
"For now, let's prepare to fight if necessary. We can hide near the door out to the main deck and watch for movement."
"Got it."
"Also- what's that?" Perona asked, pointing at Objection. "You didn't grab that from the cargo hold, did you?"
Aralynn hesitated. "Honestly… I'm not sure how I got it." She racked her brain- there was something, a memory half-formed. A voice and conversation among the stars, maybe? But it was all too hazy.
Perona gave her a skeptical look but let it drop.
Heading towards the door, they were about to peek out through the porthole before they were startled by a muffled voice and banging on the door.
"Imperial inspection! Power down your airship and set it to hover- immediately!" a voice barked from outside. "We know you're in there. Open up, or you'll be treated as traitors and fired upon!"
A second voice chimed in, more tentative. "Sir… what if they're just asleep?"
"Could be," the first muttered. Then came a series of heavy bangs against the door. "Go fetch the lockpick from the ship. We'll force it open if we have to."
Footsteps retreated, fading into the silence that followed.
"Fuck," Perona whispered. Then she noticed a spare set of a captain's uniform hanging by the door. It looked like Cozith's. Perona eyed the uniform. It was roughly the same size as her clothes. "Aralynn, Grango. I'm going to pretend to be the first mate to stall for time. Can you pretend to be hired airship security?"
"Of course," Grango replied. He straightened the collar of his jacket.
"…I need a second. Get the uniform on-I just need to…" Aralynn flicked open her revolver and slid in the elvish rounds she'd picked up back in Agemön. Then she pulled back the bolt on Objection, peering into the internal magazine.
In the dim light, she compared the revolver rounds to the rifle's. The difference was obvious- the rifle's ammo was longer, larger, and sharply tapered. She knew that the revolver's bullet wouldn't work in the rifle's chamber. Just then, a familiar green translucent window blinked into view.
[Firearm God's Blessing has been activated!]
[Act 1, Clause 2: The Apostle may convert ammunition if existing ammunition is available to suit different types of firearms.]
[A revolver round has been exchanged for a rifle round.]
In her palm, the bullet shimmered, then morphed into a longer, sharper round fit for the rifle. Aralynn didn't question it. She activated [Firearm God's Blessing], swapping the rest of her ammo in a blink. One by one, she thumbed the new rounds into Objection's magazine. Aralynn noticed that Objection could hold five rounds total.
Perona fastened the last lace of Cozith's uniform and settled the cap atop her head. "Ready?"
Clack. Aralynn shut the bolt and slung the rifle over her shoulder.
"Ready."