"Deal with Emperor Alberch first... That would be a good suggestion, if Gallia didn't have an air fleet." Eleanor grumbles as she joins Blake in a command room of sorts in the latter's main base of operations. The location is largely empty save for the two of them and the Gatekeeper, though on the flip side one could get the impression that only the last of the three is truly needed. "They're mere hours out. We can't stop the Emperor, stop his army, get new orders out to all of the troops, and make it back in time."

"We may not have to deal with him personally, mind. Remember, if Gerhild is telling the truth she's looking for help to deal with the Emperor herself." Blake interjects as he goes over a few more readings, feeling rather smug as he reads the reports about the enemy airships being demolished.

"I think you can understand why I am just a tad apprehensive of that woman." The wind mage scowls at the steampunk mage.

[WHETHER HE'S DEALT WITH BY SOMEONE ELSE OR NOT, JOSEPH IS THE PRIORITY. THE SHIPS NEARER THE BACK OF THE GALLIAN FORMATION APPEAR TO BE BETTER PROTECTED WHILE EXHIBITING VOID ENERGY SIGNATURES. IT IS POSSIBLE THAT THE MAD KING HIMSELF MAY BE PRESENT.] The Gatekeeper states suddenly, startling the eldest daughter.

Blake frowns. "Why would he... No, that actually makes some measure of sense, actually." He taps the console he's sitting at in thought. "He must be taking the bulk of his military with him. He may not be able to take on Romalia with a massively reduced defense force and contend with us at La Rochelle. Why risk getting assassinated because you can't protect yourself properly?"

By this point the eldest daughter regains her composure. "I'm more worried about what he's up to. He's certainly not short on firepower." She points out a list of known units in the Gallian army. "I know you were able to effortlessly demolish one of those large war golems, but he seems to have brought in well over a dozen. ...Where did he even get all this?"

[JOSEPH MOST LIKELY RAMPED UP HIS PRODUCTION CAPABILITIES BECAUSE OF BLAKE AND AOI. GALLIA IS A LARGE NATION WITH IMMENSE NATURAL RESOURCES. IT WOULD NOT TAKE MUCH TO ACCUMULATE WHAT IS NECESSARY.]

"Meanwhile, I take it all our big guns aren't ready yet." The construct states.

[MAXWELL WILL NOT BE COMPLETED BEFORE IT WOULD BE NEEDED, NO. OUR OWN AIRSHIP IS STILL A WAYS OFF FROM BEING BATTLE-READY.]

"Figures. Is anything happening in Tristain?"

[FOUR ENTITIES HAVE ENTERED IT NOT LONG AGO. THEY ARE ALREADY LEAVING THE AREA.]

"Might be those mercenaries." Blake looks to Eleanor. "I know you won't like this, but I would much prefer-"

The eldest daughter holds a hand up to stop the steampunk mage, sighs, and responds. "I know, you wish for me to stay out of harm's way. You are rather predictable on that point."

The steampunk mage looks slightly guilty on that point. "My apologies, but Aoi and I will most likely be facing inhumanly powerful enemies. You are skilled, don't get me wrong..."

[HE LOVES YOU AND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE YOU GETTING HURT.] The Gatekeeper states flatly. ...Or as flatly as the machine's thunderous voice will allow.

Blake winds up choking, for once.

"Ah." Eleanor looks slightly surprised by the blunt, deadpan declaration. "Well, it's not like I don't feel anything for him, but..."

[LET'S BE HONEST HERE. YOU TWO MIGHT NOT HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER TOO LONG, BUT YOU'VE 'CLICKED' IN A SENSE DESPITE THE SHEER DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO OF YOU NATURE-WISE.] The Gatekeeper doesn't stop monitoring the situation as it speaks, though one can imagine that the machine would be a fair bit more expressive if the situation permitted it. [PLUS THE TWO OF YOU HAVE BEEN STRAIGHT-UP DANCING AROUND THE SUBJECT FOR THE LAST COUPLE DAYS NOW. DO YOU TWO HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ANNOYING THAT IS?]

"Meanwhile we're in the middle of battle preparations." The steampunk mage points out. "That's not exactly a good time to sort out interpersonal feelings."

[WE'RE COVERING AN ESCAPE, NOT STOPPING A TIDAL WAVE. WORSE COMES TO WORST WE COULD JUST...] The guardian pauses for a moment.

"Just what?" Asks Eleanor, who is grateful for the sudden change in subject.

[IF WE CAN GATE PEOPLE TO LA ROCHELLE, WHY DID WE NOT JUST GATE THEM STRAIGHT TO ALBION?] Asks the construct. Somehow, it sounds genuinely confused with itself, if not immensely annoyed. [SKIP THE ENTIRE PROCEEDING AND USE OUR ADVANTAGE TO KEEP OUR ALLIES OUT OF REACH. IT WOULD HAVE BOUGHT US MORE TIME AND LET US LAY ANOTHER TRAP TO GRIND DOWN THE APPROACHING FORCES.]

Blake's eye twitches. "I... erk... what? How... how did none of us think of that?!" The mage shoots up and opens up a connection to Aoi's communicator. "Aoi! We're idiots."

["What, you only just realized this?"] The dragon's amused, snarky tone can be heard in the command center.

"I mean that we've basically wasted everyone's time with this. We've got at least a partial map of Albion, we could have just gated everyone there as opposed to using airships!" The steampunk mage sounds completely exasperated with himself this time.

["...Wow. Now I feel like an idiot. We don't have the infrastructure to support all those people, but Albion does."]

"Contact Henrietta, Wardes, anyone important and see if they can't help with this revision. I'll need to talk to Prince Wales and let him know that we may need him to turn around." The construct rubs his forehead in annoyance.

["Gotcha. Anything else I should be aware of?"] Asks the dragon.

"Our mercenary 'friends' may be trying to track you down to pay you a visit. I'm not sure how fast they can move, but assume the worst."

["That might be fun. Thanks, I'll be in touch."] With that, Aoi closes the connection.

"I seriously can't believe I forgot to apply Occam's Razor to this problem." Blake gates in a cup of coffee and downs the thing in one shot, despite the heat. "How did all three of us get that caught up in the minutia?"

"To be fair, you are trying to juggle just about everything yourself. Plus Henrietta and the other nobles aren't used to you and your services like the rest of us are." Eleanor notes as she clasps her hands in her lap. "Also, mercenaries?"

"Elven mercenaries or whatever, there were four of them and I think I already explained this." The steampunk mage tosses the empty cup away before tapping away at the console. "Gatekeeper, keep an eye out for any anomalous gate activity. Knowing our luck Joseph's not even here for the people at all."

[UNDERSTOOD.]

"I think you lost me at some point. What would he be going for, then?" Asks the eldest daughter.

"You know how we distributed a few keys to allow you and a few others to make free use of our gate system, yes?" Once the eldest daughter confirms, the construct continues. "I would be surprised if Joseph is aware of them, but I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't try to make a grab for one once he knows they exist."

"That would make your system a bit of a double-edged sword, wouldn't it?" Eleanor places a hand under her cheek as she thinks.

[THAT'S WHY WE KEEP A STANDING FORCE ON THE ISLANDS THEMSELVES. NO MATTER WHERE THEY COME IN FROM, THEY WILL BE MET WITH A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF FIREPOWER.]

The eldest daughter considers a few more things. "Come to think of it, couldn't you just open some smaller gates up to let those turrets I saw before shoot through?"

"I'm not entirely sure it works that way, but it's worth a shot once they get in closer." The construct replies.