What followed unfolded exactly as Pawdrick had predicted.
—--
Early the next morning, Isis went straight to apologize to Francesca. After the sisters commiserated over how useless they felt, Isis returned to her usual carefree cheerfulness, while a newly energized Francesca went back to directing the Knowledge Seeker's crew through all manner of pre-departure preparations.
As for the Hunters, there was little they actually needed to do beyond checking their equipment, items, and ammunition.
This was Dundorma, the great capital of the Old World, where supplies were never lacking. In less than half a day, everything was ready.
With the Knowledge Seeker carrying their supplies, weight was no concern. Morgan and Brandley, both enthusiasts of heavy firepower, joined forces to prepare a staggering stockpile of Water Ammo and Freeze Ammo.
After all, the target roamed the Great Desert, where materials for crafting Water Ammo and Freeze Ammo were hard to find, so they had to bring plenty from the outset.
With less than three days left before departure, Altaïr had thought he could use the opportunity to rest for a couple of days, only for Francesca to suddenly draft him into helping.
She had realized that their group included a Great Desert native, a nomad born and raised in the sand sea who had extensive experience as a guide.
What else was there to say? Francesca promptly put him to work checking for anything they had overlooked.
After several passes through the ship, inside and out, Altaïr did indeed uncover a few oversights.
Dustproof veils for the crew had long since been stocked aboard. That much was basic. Precision machinery and instruments were also adequately protected; after all, they were the scholars' lifeblood.
The ship's defensive weapons, however, had not received enough attention.
Cannons and Heavy Ballistae were built to take a beating and seemed difficult to damage. Under normal circumstances, that was true.
In the Great Desert, though, things were different. Windblown sand could work its way into cannon barrels or settle inside mechanisms such as Ballista winches and gears, causing serious trouble and interfering directly with their operation.
Altaïr adopted the Sandship fleet's dustproofing measures and managed to eliminate the problem before departure.
He found several similar oversights. As Francesca rushed to have each one addressed, she recorded them all for inclusion in the Knowledge Seeker's standard preparation procedures for desert operations.
From then on, every new region would require its own tailored preparations. A desert expedition needed desert-specific measures; a jungle expedition needed jungle-specific measures. The process was complicated and tedious, but it was part of her job.
The day before their scheduled departure, personnel began boarding the ship to check in.
This was Francesca's job as well. In fact, she had been the busiest person aboard over the past few days, without question. In contrast, the project lead, Mr. Alva, spent his days idly strolling around.
He had even found the time to carve a Diablos-shaped figurehead by hand. Pushing it along on a small cart, he approached Francesca and cheerfully asked, "How about we carve a figurehead of our survey target before every expedition and mount it on the prow?"
Francesca was in the middle of checking people in and carefully verifying the personnel roster. Already at the end of her patience, she snapped, "Get lost! Annoy me again, and I'll hang you from the bow as the figurehead!"
Alva slunk away dejectedly, still pushing his Diablos figurehead.
The crew members and scholars waiting to check in never forgot the sight, and a rumor soon spread among them that the logistics head could hang the project director from the prow whenever she pleased.
"Next!" Francesca bellowed at the top of her lungs, clutching her clipboard.
A petite figure stepped up before her.
The girl held her head high and her chest out, yet she was still nearly half a head shorter than Francesca. Francesca stared in surprise at first, then her expression softened.
I'm finally not the shortest person on the ship anymore!
"Kitty? You're involved in this project too? Which team are you with?" Francesca asked with a smile.
"Logistics Support Team!" In plain terms, that meant doing odd jobs, but Kitty proclaimed it with immense gusto.
She certainly had every right to be proud. The Knowledge Seeker was the Royal Academy's flagship project, backed by its full support, and every member had been handpicked. She had fought tooth and nail against countless upperclassmen to win this internship spot on the logistics team.
Other students would have killed for a chance to do those odd jobs!
When she had heard a couple of days earlier that Isis would also be joining the expedition, she had been beside herself with joy and secretly vowed to give it everything she had.
"All right, there you are." Francesca checked off Kitty's name on the roster, had her sign it, then said with a smile, "Isis's room is the fourth door on the second deck. You can go spend time with her, but only today, mind you.
"Once we officially set sail tomorrow, there won't be time to lounge around like this."
"Yes, ma'am!" Kitty puffed out her chest, stood straight, and gave a sloppy salute. Then she shouldered her backpack and scampered off in delight.
The sight of the girl brimming with energy lifted Francesca's spirits, and she twirled the pen in her hand.
"Next."
"Apprentice Scrivener Alma, Research Team."
This was not Kitty's first time aboard the Knowledge Seeker. She had accompanied them once before during the Kuarusepu capture.
That had only been a shakedown cruise, and she had managed to finagle her way aboard solely because of her connection to Isis. This time, though, I'd earned my place on my own merits!
The work might still amount to odd jobs, but that made all the difference!
This would be the starting point for everything. Sooner or later, I'll become Isis's Handler. Then I'll become a brilliant scholar, launch research projects of my own, lead them myself, and climb all the way to the top!
"Hee hee hee hee..." With a bizarre cackle, Kitty slipped into the cabins. "Second deck, fourth room. Second deck, fourth room. Here we are!"
Kitty glanced left and right in confusion. "So, is it the fourth room on the left or the fourth room on the right?"
These were modular compartments intended for temporary personnel, so none had names written on the doors. She hesitated.
Should she go back and ask Francesca? Better not. Francesca looked swamped, and Kitty did not want to bother her.
She would just knock politely and ask.
Kitty smoothed her messy hair and knocked on the door to the left. No one answered. She knocked harder a second time.
This time, someone finally replied. A slightly impatient voice came from inside.
"Who is it?"
Kitty could not tell whether the voice belonged to a man or a woman, but she was certain it was not Isis.
As the room's occupant opened the door, she bowed. "Sorry, wrong room!"
Morgan had been deep in his notes, puzzling over several crucial questions, so he was naturally irritated by the interruption. The girl's polite manner, however, dispelled most of his annoyance.
The petite girl was at most around 150 centimeters tall. Morgan regarded her with a blank expression, said, "It's fine," and closed the door again.
As it swung shut, he muttered under his breath, "Why is there a kid here?"
Before the door had fully closed, the faint murmur slipped through the gap and reached Kitty's ears. Her senses had been keen since childhood, and a vein throbbed in her forehead.
Her fists clenched.
Kitty took several deep breaths to suppress her rising anger, then turned and knocked on the door across the hall.
This time, the right person answered. Isis looked first to the left, then to the right, and finally down. Her face lit up in pleasant surprise. "Kitty?! What are you doing here?"
"Isis!" Kitty happily wrapped her arms around Isis's waist.
Isis ruffled Kitty's hair and led her into the room.
After Isis closed the door, Kitty lowered her voice and asked, "Isis, who lives across the hall from you?"
"Across the hall? Oh, you mean Morgan. He's the Gunner in our squad."
"'He'? Huh? That person's a guy?" Kitty froze, then exclaimed indignantly, "He's a shorty himself, yet he called me a kid!"
"Don't be rude." Isis lightly rapped Kitty on the head.
"But he–he said I was a kid!"
Isis bent down, slipped her hands under Kitty's arms, and lifted her into the air. "Kitty, you're only sixteen. You really are still a child."
"Almost seventeen!"
P.S. For context, Francesca is about 160 centimeters tall. She certainly is not tall, but she is not exceptionally short either. She only seems that way when standing among a group of Hunters...
Kitty, on the other hand, really is short, at around 150 centimeters.