Time: Two days after the missions at the Dollet Manufactory
Theme: Memory's Delight
There was nothing terribly unusual about a dozen or so airships traveling in formation, especially not this single-file convoy of smaller merchant vessels. They flew flags of red-and-yellow checks, since they were transporting explosives, and all of them were marked with the logo of the Dollet Manufacturing Concern on all six sides of the ship. They approached Corneria from the North-East, moving at a fairly slow clip toward the border. They were slowing down, preparing to await permission to cross the border.
A thirteenth airship, much larger and much sleeker, dropped out of the clouds above the formation, pulling easily alongside the lead airship and decelerating on a dime to match her speed. A sleek, new warship, flying a flag marked with the crest of Dollet Security Group; the clan arm of one of the world's largest arms manufacturers.
Its designation was DMC-01X Industrious Mako, and it was possibly the most advanced warship flying the skies today.
On the bridge, images of each of the twelve cargo ship captains seemed to sit at their stations, 1/8th their actual size, hovering in the air above the bridge crew of the ship itself. In the captain's chair, a man in a white uniform, at once very businesslike but also somewhat more military, blinked, before calling out an order to these men.
"All ships are to order full stop, and change formation to a horizontal line, relative forward horizon. Helm, keep us ahead of that line, between one and one-mark-five kilometres, and order full stop."
"As you wish, Director."
"What ever you say, boss."
"Aye aye, kupo!"
The man waved his hand, and the images vanished, "LONGCOM, send message New Balamb, "Mako standing by to cross. Will advise results."
"Yes sir, Director Kindheart."
"SHOCOM, find me the nearest Cornerian Patrol and open a channel with the standard hail."
"Clanship Industrious Mako, this is the Cornerian Border Patrol."
"Patrol, this is Director Dominic Kindheart, Captain of the Mako." The man's voice stayed level, but his lips curled slightly into a smirk, "I am escorting One-Two cargo freighters from Esthar to Erufuran, from where they will distribute their product onto smaller vessels. Permit numbers CM-00178 and TS-198872."
"Mako, we are currently not allowing armed vessels into Cornerian Airspace without undergoing special checks. Prepare to receive boarders."
The link was frozen, for a moment, as someone looked up, "LONGCOM?"
"Director, reply from New Balamb "Do not allow inspection of DMC-01X"."
"Thank you LONGCOM. Patrol?"
"I am unable to comply with your request at this time. Are you prepared to escort my contractors to Erufuran?"
"Mako, I can assure you that Cornerian Airspace is secure."
"Your crew will be compensated."
"... Aye sir. Have your cargo ships approach at heading 227 Magnetic, relative to you."
"Thank you, Patrol. Mako out." Dominic ran a hand through his hair, "SHOCOM, repeat that."
"Aye kupo aye."
"LONGCOM, send message New Balamb "Acknowledged. Shipment under national escort. Returning to Galbadia."
"Yes sir, Director Kindheart."
Even as the cargo ships drifted to follow their orders, the warship turned about on a dime, dropping just below the flight path of the others, as it started to steam away.
"Helm, set course to Galbadia. You are permitted to activate STRIKETHROUGH when Corneria has left the horizon."