Chapter 17: Foundations 7
Elania walked across the bridge connecting the Neftasu refugee island to the one housing the Neftasu Guard. Yolani strode beside her while Lucas escorted them across.
They had a meeting scheduled with Captain Montlas and his sergeants, including Sergeant Harlock. Relief washed over her knowing that Harlock had survived the ordeal in Neftasu.
She had grown to respect the man during their time working together, and his presence at the meeting probably meant they would have at least one receptive ear.
Yolani glanced at Elania. “I hope the Ironfist will be interested in our proposal,” she said, voice low enough for only Elania to hear.
She nodded, meeting Yolani’s gaze. “From what I understand, they’re in a tough place right now. They’ll likely accept our offer.”
Yolani frowned slightly, brow furrowing. “It’s not good to hold someone over a barrel and pilfer their pockets.”
Elania sighed. “I know, but they’re getting a good deal too. We talked about it, right?”
Darius had suggested they offer half of what they actually planned. But Yolani had argued that low payment wouldn’t endear the company to them.
Yolani frowned. “Yes, but they aren’t going to have much choice in the matter. Even if we pay them well, they might be resentful later.”
As they stepped onto the island, Elania’s heart jumped at the sight of the refugee camp. A crowd of civilians rushed toward them, faces alight with joy and gratitude.
They reached out to touch her, voices rising in a chorus of praise and thanks.
“Lady Elania, thank you for saving us!”
“Bless you, Lady Elania! You’re our savior!”
The rush of [Divine Power] surging through her veins was intoxicating—and overwhelming. The press of bodies became suffocating, sparking a flicker of panic in her chest. Lucas tried to push through the crowd, but the throng was too dense.
Yolani clung to Elania’s arm, her presence a grounding force amidst the chaos. “It’s okay,” she said, voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. “Just breathe.”
A group of Ironfist mercenaries pushed their way through. They formed a protective circle around the two of them.
“Make way!” one of the soldiers shouted, voice booming over the clamor. “Let Lady Elania through!”
The crowd parted reluctantly, and Elania felt a rush of relief as they approached a nearby building: a makeshift headquarters for the Ironfist. As they stepped inside, the noise of the crowd faded to a dull roar.
Elania leaned against the wall, heart still pounding. She glanced at Yolani, who watched her with concern.
“Are you okay?” Yolani asked, hand still gripping Elania’s arm.
Elania nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Yeah, I just… I wasn’t expecting that.”
She looked around the room, taking in the sight of the Ironfist mercenaries who had come to her aid. They looked tired and battle-worn, but there was a steel in their eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“Thank you,” she said, voice still shaky, “for getting us out of there.”
The mercenaries nodded. “Anything for you, Lady Elania,” one of them said. “You saved us all.”
She nodded politely, but deep down, it was the same savior worship. She was starting to hate it…
They were led down a hall toward Captain Montlas’ office. Harlock and the young mercenary, Kael, stood guard at the door, their presence a reassuring reminder of the bonds they had forged in Neftasu. Elania let Yolani handle the greetings, and then they slipped inside.
The captain and his men were already waiting, seated at a long rectangular table. Montlas acknowledged them with a nod.
“Lady Elania, Yolani,” Montlas said. “I understand you have a proposal for us.”
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Elania nodded, meeting Montlas’ gaze. “We do. But first, I wanted to thank you for your help in Neftasu. Not as many would have made it out without the Ironfist.”
Montlas’ expression softened slightly. “We did what we had to do. But I won’t lie. Things have been tough since we got here. Contia’s restrictions on organized mercenary groups have made it difficult for us to find work.”
Elania leaned forward. “That’s why we’re here. We need an organized group that can perform services for us, and these services won’t violate any of the city’s regulations.”
Montlas raised an eyebrow. “What kind of services are we talking about?”
Elania glanced at Yolani, who gave her an encouraging nod.
“We need help with security, logistics, and maybe even some construction work. Nothing that would go against Contia’s laws,” Elania said.
Montlas’ brow furrowed. “And why not use the Neftasu Guard? They’re nominally under your control now, aren’t they?”
Elania nodded and gestured to Yolani, signaling for her to speak.
“The Neftasu Guard is considered a foreign military unit, not mercenaries,” Yolani explained. “The regulations on their presence in Contia are even stricter than those governing mercenary groups. They can’t carry out the duties we’re looking for.”
“What about disbanding them?” Montlas asked. “Surely they could work as individuals rather than as a unit.”
Yolani shook her head. “Disbanded units working in groups also violate Contia’s laws. It’s not an option.”
Determination flashed in Elania’s eyes. “It’s important, for reasons I can’t divulge, that the Neftasu Guard stay together as a single group. We can’t risk splitting them up or disbanding them entirely, even if it was permitted.”
Yolani nodded. “The Ironfist, on the other hand, aren’t under the same restrictions. Your numbers are smaller, and you were never mustered as a government-controlled unit. That gives you more flexibility in the eyes of Contia’s bureaucracy.”
Montlas leaned back in his chair. “Contia’s bureaucracy is very byzantine in its operation.”
Elania nodded, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. “We’ve seen that. It’s a complex system, and not always a fair one.”
Montlas regarded Elania and Yolani for a long moment. “I’m interested in hearing more about this job. What exactly are you proposing?”
Elania smiled at the Ironfist sergeants and Captain Montlas. “We’ve acquired certain assets,” she said, voice steady and confident, “but we don’t have the manpower to operate them.”
Yolani leaned forward, green eyes meeting Montlas’ gaze. “With our funds, we’ve purchased two small airships,” she explained. “We’re proposing a revenue split with the company, 60/40, with you paying for your own wages, equipment, and maintenance needs.”
Montlas frowned. “That’s heavy-handed. Also, my men and I don’t have the artifice specialties for running Contia-type ships.”
Yolani nodded. “The ships will only require three or four specialists, and they will be provided. We’ve already located and contacted people we can trust: artificers from Neftasu.”
Elania leaned forward, voice earnest as she addressed the gathered mercenaries. “Most of the work the Ironfist will need to do relates to loading and unloading, security for the supplies and ships, and continuing to help the refugees.”
The sergeants exchanged glances as they considered the proposal. Elania sensed their hesitation but also saw a glimmer in their eyes.
Montlas leaned back in his chair, gaze fixed on Elania and Yolani. “It’s an interesting proposal,” he said, voice measured. “But I have some concerns about the logistics. How will we handle maintenance and repairs on the ships? And what about fuel costs?”
Elania glanced at Yolani, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. “We’ve already factored those costs into our calculations,” Elania said confidently. “As for ship maintenance, Yolani will be taking care of it. To be clear, the costs for the ships will be on our side, not yours.”
The Captain fixed his gaze on the two of them. “What do the refugees have to do with the contract?”
“We’re likely going to have to help some of them to the surface if other arrangements can’t be made,” Elania explained. “If we can’t meet the financial cost of housing them in the city… There’s lots of free space on the surface, and they will have an easier time there if it comes to it.”
Montlas nodded. “I see. Seeing the evacuation to the end, then. You’re taking good care of Neftasu’s people. That’s commendable. Especially considering how many might have treated you before.”
A flicker of surprise ran through her. She smiled but couldn’t shake the feeling of fraudulence that washed over her. Their efforts to help the refugees were driven, at least in part, by her need to maintain the flow of [Divine Power] that sustained her. It was a selfish motive, one that she couldn’t help but feel guilty about.
Yolani spoke up. “We’ll also be interfacing with the Guard in relation to the refugees. In the best scenario, many will be staying on Contia and working in a new district.”
Elania nodded. “Once the month is out, the Ironfist will probably need to be rehoused there as well.”
Montlas looked between Elania and Yolani. “You are… building an entirely new district in the city?”
Elania nodded. “We have enough people for it. It’s not actually a new island, but rehabilitation of one that has been abandoned. Our funding is currently stressed and not where it needs to be for that, but the operation of airships in Contia will help a lot.”
Her eyes glinted with excitement. “We got the two ships cheap because they were nonfunctional, but Yolani was able to repair them easily, thanks to her new power.”
Yolani smiled. “We already have multiple passenger and cargo contracts ready with the Bank of Contia.”
Elania leaned back and raised her chin. “When can you and your men get started?”
Montlas looked to his sergeants, considering.
Harlock spoke for the other men. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said, meeting Montlas’ gaze.
Another sergeant chimed in. “What choice do we have?” he said. “There’s no way for us to work in the city itself with the current laws.”
Montlas took a moment to consider. Finally, he nodded, his expression resolute. “As long as you can manage the legalities, we accept.”
Elania smiled. She stood and reached across the table, her hand outstretched.
The captain took it and they shook hands, sealing the deal.