Pasha Musa, the appointed magistrate of the local jurisdiction, was a man whose ambition was as vast as the Ottoman territory he governed, yet tempered by a calculated, patient caution. He had spent the morning closeted with Ismet, his military advisor, dissecting every word spoken by the young man named Daemon. They had concluded that the German King's loss was the Sultan's immediate gain, provided the asset—the inventor—could be carefully chained.
By mid-morning, a small but heavily armed Ottoman escort, led by the emissary Kemal, arrived back at the meadow where the three airships lay grounded, effectively surrounding the Order. Daemon, covered in grease from his deep inspection of the seized two-stroke engine, was immediately summoned to meet Kemal. The negotiation was terse, taking place right in front of the silent, imposing airships—the very objects of the Pasha's desire.
"Pasha Musa accepts your offer of temporary sanctuary," Kemal announced, his gaze sweeping over the Order's youthful, intent faces, evaluating their potential threat. "He considers your knowledge valuable, but he requires an immediate demonstration of good faith. The Sultan's interests are paramount. We require the immediate, full transfer of one of your flying machines."
Daemon, wiping his hands on a rag, knew this was the first, critical test of his leverage. He recognized that the Pasha valued the result—the immediate tactical power of flight—over the process—the complex, scientific knowledge required for maintenance and replication. He made a swift, calculated decision to sacrifice the hardware to protect the software.
"I honor the pledge, and I will not present the Sultan with a lie," Daemon replied, his voice calm and respectful, devoid of the panic Kemal might have expected from a commoner facing Imperial authority. "As you can observe, one of our propulsion units is currently seized. Handing over a malfunctioning machine would be an insult. Instead, I offer this: you may immediately take possession of the most intact airship—the one without any engine damage—as a sign of my gratitude and respect for the Sultan."
He gestured to the third ship, which had performed flawlessly during the flight. "This specific craft is yours, completely operational. Additionally, I will transfer our entire remaining stockpile of specialized biodiesel fuel to the Pasha's control. This, Kemal, is a military asset that requires no magic."
The offer was substantial, and Kemal's eyes widened with surprise and clear approval. An intact flying machine, ready for immediate deployment, was an extraordinary diplomatic coup. However, Daemon's next words created the necessary chain of perpetual dependence, shifting the power dynamic.
"But you must understand, Kemal, this technology is not magic. It runs on this specific fuel, manufactured with high precision, and its two-stroke engine requires a highly specialized, complex lubricant to function without immediately seizing up, as happened to my lead ship," Daemon explained, making sure to use clear, distinct terms like 'fuel' and 'lubricant.' "I can give you the machine and the fuel, but without our ongoing chemical expertise and constant labor, the airship will fly until the fuel runs out, and then it will become a static display. Its maintenance will fail. To make this gift useful—to provide the Pasha with a fleet of these ships and guarantee its operational status—you must allow us the time and resources to establish our lab and begin mass-producing the fuel and the lubricant for you."
Daemon was offering the Pasha a taste of power, but placing the technological choke point firmly in the hands of the Order. He was ensuring that the Ottoman military would become completely reliant on him for maintenance, fuel, and—most importantly—future expansion, effectively putting the Pasha in a state of technological servitude. Kemal, recognizing the strategic value of immediate flight and the wisdom in acquiring the source of the power, quickly agreed to relay the proposition back to the Pasha, emphasizing the critical nature of securing the fuel and lubricant supply.
While the final terms were being processed by the Pasha, Daemon initiated Phase One of his rigorous security protocol. He refused to wait for official bureaucratic processes; the meadow was far too exposed, and their assets too valuable to leave unguarded.
He gathered his key specialists. "The field is too exposed. We secure the assets now. The Pasha wants to exploit us, and we will offer him a stable facility to exploit," Daemon stated.
He tasked the Eichorst twins with the immediate, clandestine construction of an underground bunker beneath the remaining two airships. The Earth Magic twin began subtly reinforcing and stabilizing the soil, working beneath the cover of the shadows and the low-hanging hulls of the airships. The initial goal was a simple, deep, reinforced storage trench that could hide their most critical supplies. The Water Magic twin provided constant irrigation and ensured the ground remained pliable and silent during the excavation, masking the deep, rapid digging .
Helga and the strongest members of the Order used their combined Telekinesis to slowly and silently lower the most essential lab equipment—the crucial electrolysis arrays, the dismantled steam engines, the engineering blueprints, and the remaining B-1 chemical stockpile—into the rapidly forming subterranean trench. This activity was carefully concealed from the Ottoman guards, who were trained to spot overt magical casting, not the silent, internal exertion of energy the Order employed. Every critical piece of knowledge and material was safely buried.
Pasha Musa, after a brief but intense deliberation with Ismet, eventually agreed to Daemon's terms. The trade was too beneficial: a working flying machine now, and the promise of endless fuel later. Daemon and his Order were granted control of a massive, decommissioned limestone quarry several kilometers outside the town. This was a strategic gift: the towering stone walls of the quarry offered natural protection, and the existing network of deep mining tunnels provided immediate, deep cover, perfect for a clandestine manufacturing operation.
The move was executed under the guise of heavy military transport, with the Ottoman guards focusing on the successful removal of the gifted airship. The Order packed the remaining supplies and the remaining two airships were quickly disassembled on site, their parts moved under guard to the quarry.
Within 72 hours of landing, the Order had transformed the quarry into a nascent manufacturing hub. The lab equipment was installed deep within the coolest, most stable tunnels, utilizing the quarry's resources for ventilation and water collection. The quarry floor was designated the new, massive forge and assembly area.
The Ottoman Empire had gained one airship and a small quantity of fuel, enough to run a few reconnaissance missions and dazzle the Sultan's court, but Daemon had successfully protected his most valuable secret: the knowledge needed to build and sustain the entire technology. He was now positioned as the indispensable technical lifeline for the Pasha, having traded a piece of hardware for permanent, protected industrial space. The Order was physically secure, but the political reality was clear: they were now valuable pawns in the hands of the Sultanate, watched by the cold, calculating eyes of Pasha Musa and Ismet. The sanctuary was secured, but the true game of exploitation had only just begun.