9 April 2013

6:10 a.m., half an hour before sunrise, and the RhyDin Watch Task Force Alpha was already on the move. A 15-m urban camo dropship buzzed over the rolling plains south of RhyDin, cutting down the coast past Cadentia. Their heading: a lonely mountain guarding the mouth of a canyon and the frontier of this world's vast desert.

Fort Thrun sat atop that mountain, and in the past week the pirates who made it their home had harassed and enslaved nomadic herdsmen in the area, damaged two ships and shelled a fishing village with their airship. Hopefully the Watch would catch these pirates by surprise and capture or neutralize the crew in a single lightning raid.

But the Watch wasn't alone.

"Soldier, this is Vanguard, position and heading," Sergei's voice crackled into Steve Armstrong's helmet.

"This is Soldier," Steve's voice was obscured by what little tech he employed in the armor he wore, clear but with a heavy electronic tone to it. "Copy that, Vanguard. We're about five klicks out and closing in steadily. You seeing anything we aren't?" In truth, with everything that had been going on closer to home, Steve had been distracted and a little 'off' when the situation arose. Uncertainty hidden beneath the heavy veneer of his usual joking confidence was beginning to take its toll. "Watch intell is callin' it a milkrun, but I don't know how much we can take on faith with that."

"Vanguard," Sergei buzzed back over the airwaves. "I read you, Soldier. Ortho shows the long-range gun's their only piece. Airship should still be moored, nothing on radar. Stay frosty." There was a pause, and then on the same channel, "Valkyrie, Vanguard. Can you see the airship?"

It was also Jet's first time out in character, or that was how she thought of it. Her red hair was darkened by her nanities to a lustrous black and braided; she wore a mask with fine silver filigree, the metal strengthened so that it would not bend or break with ease. She had retrieved a set of exquisitely crafted chainmail armor made from a metal only found on the First of the Nine Hundred Planes, which had not been easy to reacquire but well worth it. The armor fit her perfectly, but it was more a show than her real protection, which was the shield generated by her technomancy. It still looked impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the wide dark grey wings that were propelling her through the air with each powerful beat. All together those things made for a picture that was a far cry from the Jet people saw in the Inn or wandering around town. Today she was Valkyrie, out with her teammates in Vanguard to support the Watch's raid.

This little excursion had come at a good time, she'd been bored and a bored Jet meant trouble. It was good she could channel it in a way that might work out to benefit someone. For now she was just crossing the distance, trying to catch up with the pair of dropships closing in on the fort.

"Just came into view, Vanguard." Her voice held more of the accent that she usually surpressed and it made her words sound softer, that lilting quality that those from the Mediterranean possessed. "Pretty sure that the ground units should be able to get close without being spotted. I only see two figures on the battlements. Want me to take a closer look?" They probably would not see her or would mistake her for a bird of prey, she was high enough that perspective would give her an advantage....not a woman with large wings at that distance, but a bird much closer and moving lazily above them.

And so far it appeared the Watch's intell had been accurate. As the dropship neared the canyon and the reserve dropship joined their route, the view of the mountaintop fortress became clearer to Jet's advanced vision, even in the low light before the sun came up. The prow of the airship was visible, still securely moored on the west side of the fortress, with no movement on the deck. There were two figures on the battlements, but the Watch ships had not been spotted in the darkness — not yet.

From where the Soldier stood with a hand in the overhead handhold, he leaned to one side and ventured a look out through the cockpit. "It might make sense to send one team to secure the airship and the rest to work their way towards the hostages, once located. Valykrie can support the team assualting the ship and myself the other. Val, what do you think?"

"Sounds like something I can handle." There was, of course, the issue that she thought she could handle nearly anything, but this she didn't see any reason why she couldn't provide that support. "Aim me at a target and I will deal with it." She was looping around now and considering the angle she should descend, that would give her extra time before they spotted her....then she considered that might be a good thing, keeping their eyes on her while the others got a secured landing.

"Go ahead, Valkyrie, but watch that daylight. Vanguard going silent 'til Alpha Team breaks." Sergei's voice left the airwaves, just as the dropship co-pilot lifted four fingers to Steve, then closed a fist, then tapped his watch. Forty seconds until full radio silence.

"Copy that, Vanguard. Good hunting, Valkyrie, and call out if there's too much trouble." The dropship co-pilot lifted four fingers to Steve, then closed a fist, then tapped his watch. Forty seconds until full radio silence. Steve nodded and moved towards the rear exit ramp of the transport. They'd come in low, allowing him to drop in and draw whatever fire might come first before the rest of the Watch team disembarked.

"I am always too much trouble," Jet said softly, then went silent. She would wait until they were disembarking before diving, the motion should draw attention if they were paying any mind....if they were not, that just made things easier for her. Her initial targets would be the two men that she could see.

"When we get close," Steve informed the pilots, his electronically altered voice transmitting from the helmet and not over the radio. "Drop the ramp and fishtail this thing, give me a little moment to make it to the battlements." He was taking up his position then, adjusting the round, leatherbound shield on his back and checking the array of firearms secured to the armor. "Hostages are the priority, ladies and gentlemen," he turned those words of the men and women of the Watch. "Dealing with the pirates is secondary behind the preservation of innocent life."

"Copy that, Soldier," said the Watch sergeant facing him, and exchanged a look with the pilots: they flashed him a thumbs up, and he turned to the men and women in his unit. "First squad, when you get to ground spread out and neutralize all hostiles, you'll be covering second squad. Second squad" Find the hostages. Let's mount up!"

"Hoo-rah!"

Five. The Soldier set his stance as the dropship maneuvered into position. Four. A gauntleted hand reached back to pluck the combate shotgun from it's hardness and ready it. Three. He ventured a look over one armored shoulder to the others. Two. A deep breath was taken as the ramp came down. One...

Then all Hell broke loose.

As the lead ship lowered the ramp and fishtailed over the fort there was a shrill noise on the airwaves, something sending out and bouncing back a signal — the same interference created by a number of primitive radar arrays on this world. They'd been made. "Vanguard, Task Force Alpha, they have active radar, break off your approach! I repeat, break off your approach!"

It was too late. As the reserve dropship began to maneuver away and the lead ship reversed thrusters in an attempt to slow their approach over the fort, the two figures on the battlements were already scrambling for cover. Wooden shutters on the ruined windows rolled open, revealing what aerial surveillance failed to see: anti-aircraft weapons, six guns of different types.

They opened fire, shrapnel exploding around the dropships; the lead ship sustained a direct hit, rocking violently as a piece of the ablative armor blew off.

The transport fishtailed about the time Sergei broke radio silence, the information coming to the Soldier mid-leap and causing him to land atop the battlements with a stout curse that never made it to the others. But his voice was clear as day as he began barking orders to the others. "Transports, clear out. Clear out! Get out of range of those guns!"

Jet saw the anti-aircraft weapons but they looked like something that would not do well in the face of her technomancy, nor were they designed to be used against humanoids with wings, her body did not throw off enough heat to attract them. The decision was made and she redirected herself toward them, she nearly got close enough to do something about them when a flash of motion caught her attention and she took a sharp turn. It was just enough to avoid the man that had hurled himself at her, a man that she recognized and suddenly this fight was not the easy thing she had assumed just a moment ago. The curses in her native tongue were lost to the wind and not transmitted, they would have given any of the bandits a run for their money on vulgarity. All that was transmitted was a brief burst of information. "Vanguard. New danger. Brigade." One of her own kind, just as deadly and powerful — no doubt teaming up with these pirates to wait for her. "Drawing him off. Stay on Soldier. Do not engage my target."

She was already moving away from the scene, she could hear the beat of wings that spoke that Alexandar was in pursuit. The man's wings were a fraction darker than her own and the weapon he held at the ready shone like the sun, bright with the power he possessed. The intensity of his hatred for her burned in his eyes, something she could see when she risked a glance over her shoulder. She needed to get him away from the fight, he would not hesitate to kill everyone to make a point....and she thought that point might be more personal than not; he had good reason to hate her just as she had good reason to hate him. So it was she was headed away again.

Boom! Another shell struck the lead dropship, knocking out the port thruster and sending it into a wild spin. "Mayday mayday mayday! Command, Alpha Team Dropship, lost port thruster, will attempt landing in Fort Thrun! Landing is hot, need immediate evac!" Two bursts from the starboard thruster slowed the spin and then the engine stalled — the tail dipped back as it fell ten meters and crashed into the courtyard.

As the dust settled there was movement within, a few conscious officers unstrapping themselves and struggling their way through the upended and twisted craft to check on the others; there was also movement without, pirates hurrying out onto the battlements, all of them heavily armed and aiming down into the courtyard. Then their captain emerged from the fortress, more calmly and slowly than the others, carrying only a pistol as he surveyed the damage. He squinted as the reserve dropship turned about in the air and accelerated away from the fort, out of range of the guns. "Run, little birds," he murmured, smiling.

The now distant explosions were noted, somewhere in Jet's mind, but she was far more concerned with the combat she was going to have to engage in shortly. Alexandar was a faster flyer and more powerful, she was looking for a good place to land, she had spent years fighting only on land and it seemed like a good advantage to give herself, Alex would not expect her to limit them to an enclosed area. She was listening in and trying not to allow it to distract her from the task at hand.

The Solider, rarely one to hesitate, did so. But only for the briefest of moments before launching himself along the battlements. Haste took precedence over precision, as the shotgun was reharnessed and the shield freed up from his back. Half a dozen pirates had been upended off of the wall by the sudden bull rush, as he worked his way towards the downed transport.

"Soldier, this is Vanguard! Report!"

"Lead transport is down, Vaguard. I repeat, lead transport is down! They're surrounded. Gonna try to get to the men!" Another man was struck from his path with a backhanded blow of the shield, before the Soldier ducked into a roll beneath the swinging butt of a rifle, only to come up and strike the man down with a hard slash.

He was nearly to the edge and prepared to jump into the courtyard, when he saw the large ring of armed men surrounding those of the Watch who'd managed to stumble from the wreckage. I could get down there and....Hell, I might take them all. But not without getting one of those boys in the Watch killed. Dammit!

"Vanguard," Steve's voice cut through on their private comm channel. "They're surrounded. I don't think I can engage without costing some of those men their lives." Already, he was moving towards the heavy predawn shadows, resecuring the shield upon his back and looking for a better vantage point.

Details were important now. Information.

"Copy that, Soldier." On the other end of the line, Sergei hesitated. Jet was in trouble, engaging one of her own kind, something he knew was extremely dangerous....But Steve was in that fort, along with whoever else had survived the crash..."Beta Team, this is Vanguard, can you assist with evac?"

"Negative. Fort Thrun's too hot, we're returning to base."

There was another pause, Sergei mastering his temper on the other end of the line as the situation in and around Fort Thrun rapidly crumbled. "Valkyrie, update me when you can and be careful. Soldier, Beta Team has withdrawn. Find cover and report in code and only when necessary. We will find you."

Jet would need to figure a way to make the switching of channels easier, the words had to be brief, they needed radio silence and the battle was too heated to expend the attention required. "Back soon as I handle this problem." The words sounded light enough but also a bit forced, the soon of that was not looking like it was going to be in a time frame that would suit the letter of the definition of soon

"Vanguard. Valkyrie." The Soldier's voice came again after a long silence. Below, the surviving officers of the Watch had surrendered their weapons and had lifted their hands over their heads. The other transport was fleeing the battle...

"Go. I'll make do. Wouldn't be the first time..." A deep breath was drawn in, before he switched over to the Vanguard's private channel. "Tell her I'll be okay. Don't let her worry..." "I'll tell her, I promise. And I'll bring you home." This was too risky, the pirates were likely busy with their new hostages but Sergei did not know how long until someone was listening to this channel, if they weren't already. "Going silent."

Full of fear. Ever clear. I'll be here, fighting forever. Curious, venomous, you'll find me, climbing to Heaven. Nevermind, turn back time....You'll be fine— I will get left behind. "Go," was all Steve said, the word fading into the static of an empty channel.

The chaos below made slipping inside easy, as more men poured out around the wreckage and unknowningly gave the Soldier easier access to getting his bearings within.

((Note: Adapted from live play with the wonderful Bridgette "Jet" Sato and Steve Armstrong! To clarify, Valkyrie and Soldier are Jet and Steve's respective superhero names — and Sergei's codename is Vanguard for this mission.))

11 April 2013

It shouldn't have been like this. Captain Siba expected a raid, and expected to surprise them; he expected to lose men but inflict heavy damage and hopefully take hostages, all of which happened according to plan. But there was a hunter in their midst, a dark figure lurking in the shadows beneath the sun-bleached fort, stalking his crew and picking them off. They wouldn't last long enough to negotiate a ransom for the Watch officers, not at this rate, and Siba realized he knew next to nothing about this hunter — except that he cared for the hostages. And that would be enough...

As the sun rose to its zenith in the clear blue sky the fort emptied its complement of pirates, slaves and captive officers into the wide courtyard where the dropship had crashed. The vehicle was gone, but rubble from its impact was strewn across the area. The slaves stood huddled in a group against a rock wall on the other side of the courtyard, as far as they could possibly be from the passageways where the figure had last been sighted. The officers, bound and beaten, were forced to their knees in a tight circle, with a half-circle of armed pirates around them. At a signal from their captain they readied their weapons; for his own weapon, he chose the comm unit from his belt. He switched to the fort's PA system and spoke:

"Officer of the RhyDin Watch! As you know, we have your comrades. You should have stayed with them. For a fair price you and the rest of them would have gotten to go home! You would see your loved ones again! Now, now I am not so sure. I am not feeling so merciful anymore, but I will give you one final chance to surrender. Or in five minutes, at exactly....eleven fifty-nine a.m., I will start killing your comrades. I do not wish to do this, but you have forced my hand; it is you who are killing these men! And every minute after that, I shall kill another....and then the slaves....and then I will come for you. You now have four minutes and forty seconds." Click.

It had been forty-eight hours of grim business for the Solider. Alone, behind what he could only describe as enemy lines and with little more to fall back on than years of training, unfortunate experiences, and the hardware that remained to him on the patchwork armor he wore. Reconciliation of the situation had come in those first few hectic hours after the mission had gone south, as the past and it's implications came back to haunt him like the other ghosts (both metaphorical and not) that had so recently descended upon his life. It was a lot to digest with time and the odds being such an uncertainty.

So, in the beginning, the Soldier did what was returning to him so naturally.

By the time the pirates' commander had realized the significance of the threat haunting the dark bowels of the fort, the tally of the missing and dead had been taunting. Worse still, a hopeful whisper amongst the captives had sparked a previously unseen level of protest, from the Watch officers and the longer held civilians alike.

And in the end, it was more than could be allowed to pass and the silent sentinel stalking the halls found himself peering out into the courtyard from the safety of a shadowy alcove set back from the line of hostages. He'd made it closer to the men than he'd thought me might, but not nearly close enough to provide more than cold comfort. Beneath the polarized visor, hawkish blue eyes calmly surveyed the scene, the tactical gears his his head turning steadily despite two days without sleep or food.

As the details were absorbed, a loose plan began to coalesce, tremulous beneath the wait of distracting thoughts of home. That's right, man, he told himself. Home. Her. The kids. You've finally got something to lose. No suicide missions. Get this done and get back to them....The Soldier knew he had to buy time, even when the countdown was up.

He had to have faith.

With the deep draw of a breath, he switched on the personal comm that he'd left dead for two days. In the beginning, all the greeted him was a disheartening static....Left behind, remember" But he found his voice anyway. "Moment of truth," came the words, strong; purposeful. "I'm gonna step out here and try to save these men. We're all gonna go home..."

Faith, Soldier. Faith.

For ten agonizing seconds, the static resumed its greeting. Then there was a click, a frantic scramble, and Sergei's familiar voice: "How much time do you have?"

"...Four minutes," came the delayed reply, allowing for Steve to overcome the quick stab of surprise. They came back....In the back of his mind, there had been little doubt they would, but some hang-ups were honestly earned and hard to cast off so easily.

Valkyrie was making her way toward the complex again, this time she was coming in low, the shield she had in place wouldn't allow her to be invisible but it did blur her outline and her passage would look like a shimmer on the air. On the private line to Sergei she spoke. "I am nearly in position to distract. Let me know when I should make my move." Her voice was calm and cool.

"No one else that matters his dying in this place. Not today," the words came to Steve suddenly, unbidden and with a ringing fierceness that carried into the courtyard as easily as it did to Sergei over the comm. When the Soldier finally made his appearance in the bright pre-afternoon sun it was with that leather-bound shield unlimbered and a slide of booted feet across the stone ground that but him squarely between the guns and hostages.

The Soldier was nothing if not deceptively quick and, at the moment, held a posture that implied him as immovable as a mountain. "The only men and women getting left behind today are the bodies of anyone trying to stop me from taking these people out of here unharmed."

Captain Siba finally had an opportunity to look this man in the face — or the mask, as it were. His pistol slipped easily out of its holster and he pointed a revolver at the Soldier. "That can be arranged, of course, for a price." Two pirates on the battlements raised their rifles to their shoulders, staring down iron sights at this figure. Most of the pirates encircling the hostages began fanning out around the courtyard, likewise aiming at the Soldier.

"But a smarter man would have negotiated from the shadows. Now....put down your weapons, and that..." Siba smirked, gesturing slightly with his gun. "...shield, of yours, and we'll see about who we do and do not kill."

"Before this is over," when the Soldier spoke, it was with he calm air of authority and grim nonchalance of a man who seemed to think he held all the cards, as opposed to the man with the pistol trained on him. "I'm going to make you eat the leather edge of my shield and wish you'd opted to stay in bed this morning. My word on that."

But even as he said it, the figure in dark blue piecemeal armor was laying the shield at his feet with its face down. Four different firearms followed, freed from the web harness housing them and dropped straight down to land behind him before armored arms were folded across his chestplate sternly. "I just want the Watch men and the civilian hostages. Get on your ship and head back wherever you came from, and I promise no more of your men need to die."

"Oh." Siba laughed. He was beginning to understand why it felt so good to be in charge; it was very satisfying to laugh at someone you were about to kill. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

Sergei's voice cut in over the comm: "Valkyrie! Now!"

Valkyrie dove into the center of things and dropped the shield that was partially hiding her from view; then with wings spread wide and she dispersed a cloud of nanites that exploded over their heads. It wasn't for damage but rather to create a really, really, really blinding flash right near Captain Siba. "As you wish, Vanguard," she replied with the slightest hint of a kid told they could go play in a toy store after hours. "Who's worried?" The man behind the Soldier's mask smiled. "My ride's here."

The Valkyrie's timing was immaculate, the flashing coming just as one of his boots stomped on the edge of the shield and propelled it perfectly into the Soldier's grip. He raised it immediately to deflect whatever shots came, while kicking the four guns backwards towards the Watch officers.

Behind them, multiple flashes of blue-white light came and went with the blink of an eye, severing the bond that held them. "Watch men, rally to me!" Every word had been meant, as he put his armored body between them and the muzzles of the enemy guns.

Captain Siba screamed for his men to man the anti-aircraft guns as he tried to scramble away from the fray. The Watch officers were quick to rally behind the Soldier and took firing orders from their sergeant, making short work of the still-blinded riflemen on the battlements.

The anti-aircraft batteries thudded exploding rounds at the figure hovering over the fort, whirling to try and reach her, and as the pirates still in the courtyard realized what was happening and began to rally for an attack....there was a noise.

It was like a muted roar, some great power barely contained, propelling a helmeted figure rapidly towards the fort. Two of the anti-aircraft guns turned about to face him, firing rounds that he weaved around, rising straight up over the battlements, up into the sun....The pirates in the courtyard raised their weapons and tried to shield their eyes and squint all at once.

Then the figure descended through the blinding sunlight, landing in the middle of a trio of pirates, bowling two over with his landing and twisting up from his kneel to uppercut the third. The pirate somersaulted through the air and landed heavily on his back.

The figure was dressed in what looked like a close-fitting black flight suit, with iridescent black lines tracing every major muscle and joint; when the figure moved and flexed, the lines expanded and contracted. A hum emanated from dark metallic 'vents' on his forearms and a larger array of them in the middle of his back, the source of his ability to fly.

Works even better than my old rocket. Sergei's grin was hidden as he turned his helmeted head to Steve, staring through the mirrored visor: "Told you we were coming back."

"Never doubted it for a second," was the Soldier's reply, punctuated by an unseen grin. "Because I'm pretty sure you wouldn't wanna face her if you didn't." It was left up to the man in the flying armor to determine who the 'her' was.

Valkyrie was already moving again, twisting her body and heading toward the men on the ground, providing cover: she made for a good shield and a distracting object for others to focus on. The men would get a good view of how the wings worked in more practical situations when she swooped down, spinning, wings flared, and dropped to a kneeling position on the ground, a momentary thing before she launched herself again....the wings having sliced deep into some of the pirates that had been closing in on the Watch men. Then she was up and in the air. Even without a firearm, the Soldier was beyond dangerous, a fact espoused by two swinging slashes of the shield felling a pair or pirates before it was unleashed in an expert throw. The nigh indestructible disk flew straight and true, a promise kept when it found its mark in the opened mouth Siba was likely about to use for barking orders. It struck hard enough to break teeth and bloody his mouth, before the subsequent ricocheting of the concave disk took out another pair of pirates before the return bounce saw it deftly caught by it's owner. "Switch to Sierra and pulse the channel. I left a present upstairs."

The present came in the form of jury-rigged explosives attached to two of the AA guns, set to explode at the right frequency on the pre-established channel.

Timing was everything, and Sergei waited until he saw a couple of pirates aiming into the courtyard from the battlements nearby before he pulsed the channel. Two fireballs consumed the AA guns, and he buzzed Valkyrie: "Take out the other AA guns! I'll take care of the slaves!"

And he was off, darting across the courtyard with several quick pulses of power from the array of glowing thrusters and resonators on his back, zigzagging between the pirates, taking them down with super-powered fists and elbows.

Orders received Valkyrie went about executing them. That was what had been ingrained into her for centuries, she had been a soldier and a good one. Give her an order and she would complete it with brutal efficiency, something that Sergei might wish to temper. The distance was covered quickly and her sword drawn by the time she arrived. It wasn't a fair fight, it wasn't even close.

It was probably a good thing that Sergei would not have a line of sight on her small battle, there was blood — a lot of it — and an ease to her dispatching of life that was cold and calculated. It wasn't long before she was moving away and the battery was silent.

That done she was gaining height so that she could view the battleground from above, taking note of where everyone was and what looked like it still needed doing. Her mind was good at pulling details from chaos but she wasn't seeing where her particular skills would be of use, now that the heavy artillery had been silenced.

"Sergeant," the Soldier pointed to the Watch officer nearby and then the exit. "Time to move. Work your way towards the slaves and link up with my compatriot there!"

"But where are you going?" The man asked, uncertainty punching briefly through the thin veneer of courage he'd shrouded himself in since the rescue started.

"We're gonna need a ride out of here, Sergeant. I'm gonna go secure us transport." The Soldier gave the man an encouraging push towards the path that had been cleared for them. For the moment, most of the pirates were concerned with the new arrivals. "I'll secure their ship and work my way back to you. Now go!"

It was then that be broke for the battlements, launching upwards and catching the seam of a large stone with the tips of his fingers and propelling himself upwards with ease. In three effortless leaps, he balanced on the edge and making a hard run for the ship. Bullets bounced off the shield's hard surface harmlessly, the occasional one slamming hard into the Soldier's armor when he swung the weapon out to swat an adversary off the ledge.

"Soldier! Jump!" Sergei called out: the airship was already casting off its moorings, Captain Siba, bloodied and all but broken but still standing, manning the wheel. It was him and only two other pirates on the airship, but still more backing into the slaves who were now beginning to struggle. Sergei leaped at them from behind, physically pulling them away from the slaves and tossing them into the nearest wall with a whirring assist from the machinery in his suit.

How the Hell did that guy get up here so damned fast' The Soldier didn't have time to marvel at the notion, however, and pushed off the edge of the battlements for a hard leap. Preternatural strength launched him in an an impossible arc, allowing for the distance to be covered until he landed in a hard roll off the shoulder and came back up to his feet at a run.

The pirates made a jump back towards the fort when they saw the Soldier barreling towards them. One of them made it, landing on his legs with a sickening crack; the other one didn't.

"Bastard!" Captain Siba leveled his revolver at the Soldier and started firing, one round after another. "This was our last chance! You ruined everything!"

Ting! Ting! Ting! One by one, the shots ricocheted harmlessly off the shield each time he moved to intercept them. The red-gold mirrored faceplate of his helmet reflected the man's frustration as the distance was closed. "And what chance were you giving those innocent civilians" What sympathy should you get over them?"

"You don't understand..." Last round; Siba tossed his pistol aside and drew a saber from his hip, giving Steve a bloody, toothy growl. "You don't know what it's like out there! In the desert you are a master or a slave — you conquer or you die! Your city is fat, lazy, complacent and greedy, reaching their arms too far to my mountain! My slaves! You'll pay for it!" And with that he lunged at Steve, using the last of his strength to rain blows down on him, trying to find some weakness in the man's armor.

All things considered, the Soldier didn't expect that level of savagery from the man....and was only momentarily distracted by the speech. The third strike of Siba's saber slipped beneath the shield, almost all luck, and cut through a weak patch of armor that was little more than heavy, boiled leather.

It was enough to draw blood.

His elbow came down hard on the man's shoulder, driving him to the deck with a sickening crunch. The mask came in low, close to the pirate captain's face, when a heavy boot fell to pin the saber's blade down. "There's always another way. You were either to lazy or too unconcerned to find it. Now" Your ship is mine, your captives will be free men and women, and your people are scattered or dead" Tell me, friend....How did choosing to be a monster work out for you?"

Siba roused from this fresh wave of pain enough to spit on the Soldier's visor. "Kill me, then."

"Not today," came the solemn reply. "No more blood on anyone's hands today. I have enough already." Kicking the saber away, the Soldier caught the man by the scruff of his neck and hauled him around like ragdoll. In this, he needed to do the right thing. "You're gonna answer for the lives you destroyed, if I have to march you before a magistrate myself."

Death here, now, seemed much more attractive than at the end of a rope or the headsman's axe. He struggled against Steve's grips, eyes fixated greedily on the airship railing, but it was no use.

The shield was re-secured upon his back with ease, before Siba was dragged to the nearest mooring side on the ship and the Soldier began to securely tie him up. When it was settled, he quickly returned to the helm and haphazardly began to steer the hulking beast back towards its previous dock, to the waiting Watch officers and slaves.

It was time to go home.