A long silence has descended on the two occupants, poodles seated on the chairs beside the table – one male, the other female, both in Temple uniforms. At length, the male speaks. "Lt. Bellefeuille … I cannot pretend to understand these … dreams you have engaged in – either their provenance or purpose. But I do not trust the action you propose to take in them."

"It would appear that one has but few choices in these dreams. To move forward and come to meet the goddess you have chosen, to stand still and suffer perhaps a worse fate, or to ignore them entirely. But I do not believe the last of which is possible. I have become too greatly involved, and I am not even certain they can be ignored," explains Elise. The female poodle frowns, folding her hands across her lap again.

"You said you'd been having these dreams for several years?" Lt. Jaskar asks. "Did they ever leave you comatose before this trip?"

Elise lowers her gaze to stare thoughtfully just beyond her folded hands. After a moment she shakes her head. "No. Or if I was comatose I was not informed of it. I had died previously within the dreams, however, if a comatose state occurred from this and was not mentioned to me then it was short indeed," she answers.

The other lieutenant sighs and shakes his own head. "Then whatever it is, it's gotten worse. I don't know what caused you to wake at the time when we most needed you, today, but I don't trust that my timing will be so lucky on the next occasion. As I just said, the ship is now crucially short-handed. We can't afford to have you slip into dreams for another three weeks."

"I know what you ask, but I cannot be certain I can follow your request. I am rarely given freedom to chose when I enter these dreams and once present I am obligated to act," says the poodle. She looks up from her hands and over to the man, frowning all the more severely now. "I could attempt to remain awake for prolonged periods, but it is my tactical opinion that should I come to face the Babelite death-goddess it should occur when people most lament what right had not occurred. While they consider the wrongs even gods have caused them."

"Forgiveness for the wrongs done to them," Jaskar replies, his emphasis heavy. "Even by the gods. Reckoning is still eight days' hence, in any case. If we are lucky, we may arrive at Caroban by then. And until we arrive at Caroban, I want you to stay functional. Whatever you can do in these… dreams… to keep yourself out of trouble, do it. Wake yourself up, ignore the goddesses, walk away, I don't care, but if there's a way you can stay in this reality, I want you to do it." He pauses, fixing Elise with a stern gaze. "That's not a request. That's an order, as your acting CO."

The snow-white poodle inclines her head. "Yes, forgiveness. But I … I know people mourn that day. They remember, which is what is important. In that way … " she pauses and shakes her head again, lifting a hand to her forehead, " … I, understand sir. I will do what I can."

Lt. Jaskar says nothing for a minute, studying de Bellefeuille's face as if to appraise her sincerity.

Elise, exhausted after a battle and having been in a coma for twenty three days, appears worried. If her frown did not betray her the look in her eyes would fall to close inspection. Perhaps she is worried that she cannot fulfill the order, or what may come should she obey it.

"All right," the other poodle says at length. "Let's get back to work. I'll find the second mate and see what he needs of us. You check on the wounded – find out if we have any prisoners alive and able to speak. I'd like some answers about this attack."

The female poodle reaches over and picks up her sword while rising to her feet. A tired salute is given. "Yes sir," she says. She then looks at him questioningly, likely to see if she is dismissed.

A crisp nod from Jaskar, and he opens the door for her. "Dismissed."

Most of the raiders died or fled, but one sulky Korv has been bandaged by the nurse and laid out with hands and feet tied, although with one wing nearly severed, it's unclearwhere he'd flee to from an airborne sky-ship. He is conscious but silent while the other wounded are tended around him.

The armored poodle officer walks past the injured looking amongst them as she goes. A controlled smile is given to a Rephidim Guardsman she knows but vaguely once she finds him alive. Past the nurses and further down she stops directly in front of the Korv and turns to face him directly, left hand resting upon the hilt of her sword as she regards him. "State your name," she says sternly.

The black bird watches her with bright yellow eyes, and says nothing.

With a frown, this one quite a bit removed from the previous frown shown in the cabin, Elise takes a step forward so that her boot lands on the edge on the Korv's wing. She applies enough pressure as to strain the already damaged limb, but not so much as to cause any real damage save for pain. "State your name," she repeats calmly.

The Korv jerks, his beak grinding together, and the guarded expression in his yellow eyes turns to an angry glare at the poodle. He rubs his wrists together, struggling to pull one hand free from the bonds tied tightly around them.

The poodle woman shifts her boot on the Korv's wing, grinding it into the deck. "Think carefully. Assuming you could disable me and free yourself from your bonds, where will you go? You cannot fly … and you are no match for the Guard. You had best consider now your value to me, least we decide you are not worth the weight … " she tells him. Meanwhile her expression does not change.

His head jerks again, yellow eyes closing as his back arches in pain. His beak clicks open and shut, and he scrawks out a single unintelligible syllable, while his hands go limp against his chest as soon as her boot grinds into his wing again.

Releasing much of the pressure on the wing and tilting her head Elise again inquires of the wounded Korv. "State your name. I assure you should you refuse, this will only get … unpleasant. And we would not want that," she demands.

The male breathes raggedly after the weight is removed, laying unmoving while she speaks. After a moment, his eyes flick open again, and they focus on the poodle, gaze almost weighted by hatred. Something about his face – his expression while she talks – seems wrong to Elise.

The poodle leans backwards slightly as she tries to discern just what is different about his face. As she does so she decides against further 'information gathering' techniques until she can understand what it is that is wrong with him. "Speak in whatever language you know," she tells him, repeating this in the languages she is familiar with including sign.

A flicker passes over his face as Elise repeats the query in multiple languages. He scrawks something, and this time the poodle is sure it is speech, and not a moan or a scream, although the language isn't familiar to her.

The poodle takes a moment to ponder this before lifting her hand to get the attention of those on the deck. "I need someone who can speak Bosch and Vartan here at once," she commands.

A wounded soldier a half dozen yards away on the deck lifts one hand weakly. "I can, sir," he says, struggling to get to his feet.

"Stay seated," she tells the soldier. The officer then turns toward two unoccupied Jupani Guardsmen and motions to them, then points at the Korv. "Bring him. And, do be careful, I need him intact," she tells them.

The Jupani nod, setting down the supplies and lifting the Korv by shoulders and legs. They carry him to a vacant spot by the soldiers feet, and lay him down. The Korv's beak clacks as his wing is shifted, but he makes no other noise.

Elise follows after them and once the Korv is put down she takes up position just behind him, facing the wounded soldier. "Soldier, I need you see if you can identify this soldier's language. If you can I need you to translate what he tells me," she tells the wounded Guardsman. She then turns to the Korv and steps just far enough around him so that he can see her speak. "Speak," she orders him, gesturing with a hand at his beak.

The Korv just looks at her blankly with his beady yellow eyes. After a long moment, he scrawks something out. The injured Rephidim soldier winces, then says, "That's Vartan, sir."

A nod is given to the soldier. "Thank you." She backs up a step and then kneels down, folding her arms over one knee. "Now, ask him to state his name and why he attacked our ship," she says.

"Also be sure to translate anything else he might say, including what he told you a moment ago," adds Elise.

"Uh… sir… " He struggles for a moment, then says, "It was an epithet."

"Charming," responds Elise. Her frown clears and she returns to her neutral serious expression. "Very well, ask him what I requested of you," she tells the soldier.

The Rephidim soldier covers his embarrassment by quickly scrawking something at the raider. The Korv's response elicits another snap from the soldier, which is followed by a final scrawk from the Korv. "His name is Karr, sir," the soldier says at last, letting his head sink back into the pillow behind him.

The poodle officer stands up and takes a few steps so that she can kneel down by the wounded soldier's head. As she looks around for something to prop the pillow he rests on up with she continues her interrogation. "Ask him why he attacked our ship," she says.

Another flurried exchange of scrawked phrases passes between soldier and prisoner, then finally the Khatta from Rephidim says, "He seems to take us for sorcerers, sir, or devil-worshippers. He's heaping curses on us."

"Sorcerers and devil-worshippers? The curses are understandable, … but devil-worshippers? Inquire as to why he believes us sorcerers and devil-worshippers," says Elise. She considers the response while waiting for the next. Sorcerers would make sense, since they are heading to the College. But how he would know that eludes her. Another question, perhaps.

The soldier complies, and after some minutes of scrawking, he says, "Apparently he knows we were on the way to Caroban, and he's got a very low opinion of the College or anyone who would go there."

After taking up some nearby blankets Elise carefully uses them to raise the soldier's pillow so that he need not strain to see the prisoner. She nods, then glances between the two of them. "Ask him how he knows this, and why despite his dislike of Mages he would take such great effort to try and capture a Rephidim airship," says the poodle.

A lengthy exchange between the two, during which the Korv's sentences continue to seem clipped and hostile, while the feline ranges from weary to conciliatory and encouraging. At last: "He says Varaka told him our destination, and that he doesn't know how Varaka knew. Varaka's the dead Vartan, over there." He wave vaguely to the deck behind his head. "He says Varaka planned their attack as a blow against the "evil sorcerers.""

"Interesting," says the snow-white poodle officer. She rises to her feet and looks to another Jupani who had been helping carry out some bandages. "You there, watch this prisoner for a moment," she tells him. Then she walks off toward the dead Vartan so indicated and prepares to search him.

A quick glance at the corpse tells Elise the body has already been searched – and largely stripped – at least once already. She bends to examine it anyway. The Vartan is quite dead, and nothing is on it but a bloodstained shift and padded leggings.

"Who searched this man?" asks Elise of those on the deck. She looks around for any who might respond.

The able-bodied glance to Elise, and then at each other. One soldier volunteers, "I think I saw one of the sailors stripping him, sir. A Savanite… " he glances around, frowning.

Elise's searching gaze stops on the man who responds. She nods to him. "Where did that Savanite go? Below decks?" inquires the officer.

"Don't think so, sir… " the soldier continues, still looking around. "Ah, there she is. In the rigging, sir." He points to a small spotted figure high above the deck, who appears to be doing something to the balloon.

The poodle's eyes widen as she looks up. To the nearest Guardsmen she turns while pointing up at the Savanite. "You there! Arm your crossbows. Should I give the order, dispatch him." She points another Guardsman, a Vartan, to the Savanite. "You, bring him down here. If he appears to be doing anything suspicious do not hesitate to yell, or if necessary strike him down yourself."

The soldier blinks at the lieutenant, but readies his crossbow as ordered, with a mumbled, "Yes sir." The Vartan raises his eyebrows, following her finger to the Savanite above. "Her, sir?" he asks, pointing himself as he crouches in preparation for lift off.

"Him, her, just do it!" orders Elise. She reaches up to rub her forehead as if pained, looking up above to the distant Savanite.

The Vartan nods and springs into the air, winging his way like an arrow towards the Savanite. His arms wrap around her waist and he starts to pull her away while she struggles, then he abruptly releases her and does a loop in the air. "Sir, are you sure?" he shouts down as he nears the bottom of the loop, before swooping back up towards the Savanite again. "She's working on a patch for the balloon, it looks important."

"Keep an eye on her then! When she finishes, bring her back down! If she does anything suspicious force her down!" yells Elise back to the Vartan. She then departs from the corpse she had been standing near and begins walking back to the soldier and the prisoner. While walking she searches the deck for anyone who might look to have authority in ship repairs. "Who ordered that Savanite to work on the balloon?"

The sailors exchange blank looks, then finally one says, "I don't think anyone told her to specifically, ma'am. She's in maintenance, she's supposed to do repairs on the ship."

"Very well," says Elise. She returns to where she had been earlier and sits down next to the two wounded men. "Now then, ask him why he has cause to hate Mages so?"

The feline repeats her query in Vartan, and the Korv's response – laughter – needs no translation. The soldier looks to Elise to see if she wishes him to ask again.

"Tell him if he does not answer I will give him motivation to do so," mentions Elise.

Karr's response this time is longer, clipped, bitter words. "He says mages destroyed his family. Killed his parents, tortured his sister, and sacrificed his baby brother." The soldier's tone on that last is very soft, and he looks into Elise's eyes. "That couldn't really've happened, could it, Lieutenant?"

"That … " the woman looks away, frowning deeply, " … that is sad. However, should any such occurrences have taken place certainly it could not have been a sanctioned College action. I would be more inclined to believe this was hedge-wizardry, or cult actions. Ask him if he can detail these Mages."

"Also inquire when this event occurred, and when he was approached with the plan to take revenge against Mages," adds Elise.

After the soldier relays the first query, Karr laughs again, a keening edge to it that hurts to hear. "He says he will remember them always. He sees their faces in his dreams. An Eeee with brown fur and a white mark on his forehead, a gray-and-white diamondback Naga larger than his whole family combined, and a dark gray Jupani with a long muzzle and a white right hand."

Karr continues, and the soldier translates, "I think he means that it happened about five years ago. He's not using the Rephidim calendar and I'm not positive on just what he meant. He said first "twenty holy days" and when I asked for clarification, "5 storms", and I think that's supposed to mean rain-seasons."

Elise returns her gaze to the two and nods. "Strange markings indeed. White upon them all. And the time would indicate he was not tricked into this as a means to get a few angry fliers to attack an airship." Her gaze shifts to the soldier again. "Inquire if the mark on the Eeee was anything specific, or simply a discoloration of fur."

"It was a perfect circle on his forehead, centered between and above his eyes," the soldier relays.

"A perfect circle? Now, that is quite odd. Soldier, have you ever come across anything quite like it?" asks Elise.

"Me?" The Khatta blinks. "no, sir."

Elise nods. "Nor have I," she admits. She returns her eyes to the prisoner and nods slightly. "Ask him if he knows why these Mages did what they did, and if he is aware of what Sphere they practice. Also mention to him if his story is true he may well get a chance to take this up with the College. Mention the death of his family is indeed likely that of non-College Mages, and that the College would be most upset to hear of such horrors."

Karr's response to the soldier after he relays this information sounds harsh even for the Vartan tongue, with a lot of snaps and clicks. "Ummm … I don't think he understands about spheres of magic, and he doesn't seem very convinced about the College not supporting them. He says they were from the College, though I can't make out why he's so sure."

"That will require further investigation. When you have recovered further we will continue this. For now he will be locked up below. Your assistance despite your wounded state is commendable, as was your fighting today. Rest, you have earned it," says the officer poodle. She stands up and orders two uninjured Guardsmen to take the prisoner and secure him below decks before she walks off to give her report to Lt. Jaskar.