"So, if I get this right", said the captain, "you're asking me to betray my phyle, my city, and all I've stood for all these years."
"I am offering you a unique business opportunity", said Dame Ravine. "A very lucrative one at that, if I say so myself. What you do with it, well..."
She left her sentence hang in midair, but her predatory smile conveyed her message in crystal clarity. The captain did not like her. After three decades of sailing the skies, he had no love for the aristocracy, regardless of the city or phyle it hailed from.
This one was claiming she came from Rabastet. Only thing was, everyone knew Rabastet was little more than an old aeronaut's tale: a lavish city of untold riches, supposedly lost somewhere beyond the Eastern Seas.
And yet, there was something foreign about her. The captain never had heard an accent such as hers before, curt and sultry at the same time. It made his heckles rise, as if every word that came out of her painted lips had an acerbic undertone.
Torn between caution and the promise of profit, he had to stall for time. He turned to his second-in-command, a tough-looking woman that had been standing at the door.
"Staēl? Go fetch us some brandy, dear. A bottle from my personal stock."
The lieutenant gave the Dame an inquiring look, which the noble woman returned with a practiced smile, and warily left the cabin.
"So", said the captain. "Why don't we go over the specifics of this opportunity you're offering me one more time?"
"Gladly", replied the Dame. "You are to act as our representative on Lonnenstradt. Your job will be to find people willing to relocate to Rabastet, supplement the city's workforce, and taste its fine life and abundance for themselves. You are free to charge what you wish, of course, and keep the fares as payment for your services."
She gave the captain a sweet smile.
"It's simple, really. Everybody wins."
The captain's frown deepened.
"Pardon my crudeness, milady", he told her, "but what is the catch?"
"Citizens of Rabastet are rarely allowed to leave it, if you consider this a catch. Not that they often feel inclined to."
She touched her full lips with a painted fingernail, as if considering how much she should share.
"Rabastet is a flourishing city, captain." she finally continued. "The key to her success, however, must remain hers. They are not to be shared, even if your patriotic pride and duty to your phyle would have you do so. I'm sure you understand."
"There's a lot to consider", replied the captain. "You're asking me to protect the interests of a phyle and state other than my own, as well as risk my life, ship, and crew sailing in uncharted skies."
"The latter will not be a problem, I reassure you", she said. "You will be afforded a master navigator to safely guide you to Rabastet and back."
"And then it comes to turning profit, of course. Passenger fares will not be enough to keep us flying, I'm afraid."
"If you can't see the opportunity for profit in being the only ship to offer passage to a place of fable and abundance", she replied coolly, "then I'm afraid you do not possess half the business acumen I was led to believe."
The captain started to answer, but he was cut short by a knock at the cabin's door. The lieutenant came in with an expensive bottle of brandy and two glasses.
"Let us put business aside for a moment", said Dame Ravine with a sweet smile. "Let us have a toast before we continue."
The Dame watched Staēl deftly pour them a glass of brandy each, her lips brought together in an enigmatic half-smile.
"To what shall we drink then, milady?", said the captain.
"To opportunities", the Dame said, "may we ever be so bold to take advantage of them as they present themselves."
"Well said", agreed the captain, though the meaning of the toast eluded him.
They drank. The captain, no stranger to the bottle, drained his glass in a single gulp. The Dame sipped her own slowly, her eyes fixed on the him.
He was about to ask her to continue their talk when the horrible heartburn started. He started to ask the lieutenant for some water, but a terrible rising pressure in his chest cut him short. Then came the first spasm, like his insides did a backflip.
He tried to untie his collar and breathe a little better, but found out his arms had gone numb. Another spasm, this time along with searing pain in his back. He tried to ask for help. Dame Ravine was looking at him with great interest, smiling her eerie smile.
Another spasm, another wave of searing pain. During his last moments of fast-dwindling consciousness, as any respectable gentleman would, he thought of home.
Then darkness engulfed him, and he knew no more.
"What a pity" mused the Dame. "The poor captain's heart gave out. Maybe this brandy was too stiff a drink for a man of his age, after all."
Impassive, Staēl checked for the man's pulse.
She found none.
"It would seem that way, milady. A tragedy, to be sure."
"Lieutenant Staēl, was it?"
"That's right, milady."
"Well, I suppose it is Captain Staēl now."
The former second-in-command let the slightest hint of a grin slip through her composure.
"I suppose so too, milady."
"As I was saying to the dearly departed captain, I am offering you a unique business opportunity", said the Dame.
Captain Staēl pulled a chair and sat across the table, next to her dead predecessor.
"You have my undivided attention", she said.
Dame Ravine gave her her most charming smile - a sincere one, for a change. Something was telling her this was about to be a very good business relationship.
A very good business relationship indeed.
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