What's Done. . .
. . . Is Done
"It's been three days." Raine's tone sounded marginally irritated, prompting Shaad to crack open one eye though he remained seated.
"Yes, and it will be longer still. . . much," Shaad replied, returning to his meditations before the imposing, tempered steel composite of the vault door.
"Not what I'm talking about. He's been M.I.A. since you came down here."
Shaad considered teasing Raine by asking who, but thought better of it, instead standing up to actually look his navigator in the eye when he said, "You know he's not the Boogeyman, right? You can say his name; Louis Cypher. And, if things went well, he's quite dead by now."
The pirate captain watched the emotions flash across her face. He was ready for a stiff slap, that bit of smugness that involuntarily crept into his words practically invited it. But Raine's perfectly manicured nails never left her sides. She was taking this better than anticipated. After a few seconds an expression of frustration and repressed contempt settled on her features, arms crossed expectantly across her chest. "Is that supposed to make me happy?"
The bite of the question made clear it was rhetorical, but Shaad answered anyway. "There are some things in life more important than happiness," he stated flatly. "Cypher was a wild card. . . At least for now, he's been removed from the board."
"Ugh. So short sighted. I told you to-"
In an instant, Shaad had closed the small distance between them, their noses pressed together as he glared daggers down at her. "You're smart, feisty, and independent. I like that," Shaad stated, his voice low and even, the firmness of it commanding Raine's rapt attention. "But, I'm the captain. . . You don't tell me to do anything. I don't know what you had in mind. Maybe you just wanna keep playing dress up with them rich pricks upstairs, but We. Are. Pirates. Cypher knew that. Maybe he knew more; you wouldn't tell me. But, he wanted to play games. Manipulate you, manipulate us. Hell, he tried to sideline and intimidate me. But none of that matters, now. Whatever his plans, irrelevant. . . He's dead. Rozzegg gave the go ahead so we're covered. And we're only here for a few more days anyway." Shaad had calmed down a bit as he spoke, backing up a step while maintaining eye contact and letting the razor's edge fade from his voice. Go on and have your fun. I'll be here. . . trying to figure out a way to break through the impenetrable. For You."
A tense silence rested between the pair. Shaad calming himself with a few measured breaths while Raine merely stewed in her own rising emotions, her gaze every bit as fierce as that of her captain. The seconds passed with an agonizing slowness before Raine finally answered, her words as deliberate as the cadence she delivered them in. "Raise that finger at me again you'll only be able to count to nine." With just that, Raine turned on her heel, stomping out of the isolated room and leaving Shaad staring at her back when she stopped in the doorway. "Get into that vault and both of us can write our own checks for life," she called over shoulder, letting her statement sink in as she walked off.
Shaad soon after returned to his meditative stance, a calm silence replacing the oppressive tension as Raine's footfalls faded into memory. "Maybe I went too far," the captain pondered as Vega silently re-entered the room.
Per usual, no response was forthcoming, the freestyle fighter waiting diligently for a command.
"No, I don't think she'll leave the crew," Shaad protested. "But - . . . Yes, it needed to be said. Still, I could've - . . . Obviously, I'm the captain. I'm the leader, yeah. . . Thanks; I needed that talk. Watch the door. . . Maybe she's right. Maybe the treasures inside this impossible vault really are all we need."
"I'm sorry, sir, that's impossible," a lean framed, bespectacled older gentleman spoke, his steely gaze contrasting the more timid nature of his words as he stood before the larger Marine officer in front of him.
"There have been no less than four disappearances since this ship set sail and, at least, two fleeting presences," the towering Marine implored the comparatively diminutive man, his voice contained but exploratory in the implication of his message. Though far from resonating, the continued exchange caught the ear of Marie from the down the hall.
Confident strides led the acting captain face-to-face with the complainant, confronting the imposing Marine with a self-assured swagger that seemed hard to place as she spoke, her voice firm and commanding. "What's the problem here?"
Before the ship's employee could answer, the Marine had pressed past him, "I was informing your subordinate that I'm going to need to see the ship's visitor logs as well as be given a master key to all rooms aboard this ship and a small detail of men."
"I'm not going to insult you by saying we cannot provide that," Marie answered coolly, neither her voice nor demeanor wavering. "I will, however, inform you of what you already know. We will not accommodate any of your requests," she continued, placing particular emphasis on the final word.
"I have been tasked with the safety of Saint Lucio and his family. Anything that may threaten that is of my utmost priority, and you will not stand in the way of me fulfilling my duty."
"Yes, and that's why, despite our policy, your unit has been allowed on and are provided leeway in how you effectuate your security role. However, while I respect your commitment to duty, Marine, you will know your duty and respect mine as well. My duty is to every guest on this ship. Unduly actions on your part would result in a global incident. Neither of us wants that."
That provocation was enough. The marine's voice dropped, threateningly, the volume hard to hear but clear as day as close as they were. "You're far too raw to challenge me. . . Bella Caprice."
"Aah, yes," the captain began, unconcerned that the marine knew she was a retired pirate. "Knowledge is important, almost as important as backing. You see, Admiral, you have the backing of the entire Marine force and World Government. The very same World Government that rescinded my bounty at the behest of my backer and benefactor, a man you know makes me. . . untouchable. So, please," she toyed with the word while none too forcefully pushing the marine away from her. "direct any further inquiries to our Security Chief."
"How may I help you, Admiral Fenrir," the slender man from earlier promptly interjected, eyes shadowed as a duplicitous smirk played on his lips.
"Thank you, Gerard." Turned away from the Admiral and her subordinates, Marie allowed a satisfied smirk to replace the unflappable mask she wore. Even if piracy was securely in her past, she would never tire of teasing Marines knowing no matter how close she was always beyond the reach of even the most ambitious or intimidating officer. 'I thought Admirals were all dispassionate. Though, I guess that lends credence to the rumors that Fenrir is an oddity even among the eclectic ranks of those called Admiral.'
All across the ship, on the highest ledges and in the lowest crevices, plots were being hatched and preparations made. But, the most ambitious plans happened right near the belly of the massive ship. And, with the stop demarcating the end of the long journey's first leg - the Twin Dragons' Prize Fight Tournament - only hours away, what (if anything) that plan amounted to would soon become clear.
Evening approached with great fanfare. The sun's shadow crested on the day as revelry and cheers heralded the introduction of the eminent combat showcase. The ships' Noble patrons bustled with excitement along the rails of the massive, luxury vessel as it approached their destination. Dragons' Gate was an imposing structure to say the least. Highlighted by two long, striking dragons scaling the perimeter of the towering metal door, each side was flanked by a ten-foot sculpture - a man in regal robes gripping an equally tall spear to the right and a woman with flowing hair pulled up and back into a ponytail with two thin braids forming a crown on her head dressed in a stunning gown and holding a spiked war fan in front of her face - that looked ready to strike at a moment's notice. The stone walls, extending as far as the eye could see in either direction, stood well over twelve feet and looked to tell one long story with the ornate carvings impressed into the side. Despite being battered constantly by the surrounding waters, the wall showed no signs of wear or age, and the stone-faced guards standing evenly spaced atop the massive wall appeared almost like gargoyles.
Raine herself shared in the other passengers' excitement from the upper viewing deck. La Isla del Drago was an island of untold riches and unmatched legacy. Raine had fantasized about escaping to the isolated enclave since she first saw pictures of the island's exterior. But, so many times she'd doubted she would ever actually see it for herself.
The ship they were on slowed to a stop, waiting as the opening of Dragon Gate created a current all its own. Raine watched as two small aquatic cruisers skimmed across the forming current and headed straight towards them. With two men on each, one took a lap around the large ship while the other stopped beside the bow, its passenger climbing aboard to speak with the captain. Raine couldn't hear the brief exchange, but she did see the thumbs up from the guard left idling on the water. After a confirmatory nod, the captain signaled the helmsman to proceed forward, and the titanic watercraft lumbered forward over choppy waters, being escorted along the watery path within the wall by the two speedy crafts.
Inside the ornate barrier wall, La Isla del Drago was surprisingly plain. With a gargantuan mansion dominating the sight line, the only other component of the island was a monumental arena, itself a size greater than some small islands, surrounded by a great moat-like river. It was at an appropriate docking space along this river that the Noble's ship was brought to a stop and anchored.
Raine keenly evaluated the island's docking procedure. Each ship was stopped, examined, and led to a designated space to dock. Even with basically the entire coast being one big docking area, space was at a premium as ships, including pirate ships, of all sizes, styles, and renown packed into increasingly limited space. The gates only opened with authorization and the proper signal, and the towering walls on all sides plus the guards prevented any unauthorized entry. A smash and grab would be nigh impossible, and if she and Shaad were to harbor any hope of a clean escape, she'd need to think of a way out before proceeding with the thefts of the ship and the island.
Invited guest clamored to disembark, eager to make it to the arena for the festivities before any action kicked off. Many of the Noble patrons of the luxury cruise had already departed the massive ship leaving only a handful of stragglers and their entourages - spoiled, young royals and early drinkers mostly - on board when that first opening firework streaked across the darkened sky.
The crackling chain of explosions littering the starry, moonlit night with sparkling color rang through the air for miles and could be seen even further. But, for those nearest the Noble ship, it all served as mere background noise to something much closer. The ship rocked violently, its insides groaning in protest as the damaged areas came crashing down. Raine nearly lost her balance, holding on tightly to keep from tumbling over the railing, but, while others panicked or began investigating the source, the disguised pirate knew just where to go.
"That didn't go well." Shaad's voice was low, strained, like he didn't have the energy to say any more. And, as his blades languidly clattered onto the ground, it was clear. He may not have.
Vega was there immediately to catch the young captain from falling over. Shaad weakly got his feet back under him but, despite his protests, was incapable of carrying himself. So, Vega collected the swords and dragged him out of there.
Their path was clear to start. That was expected. The vault was hidden away in an otherwise isolated part of the ship, and most of the crew and patrons were either topside or in the tournament stands. Vega and Shaad made it to the nearest stairwell without incident.
After going up two levels, though, they had to re-enter the open passageways to continue up. Approaching a corner, Shaad heard footsteps - a single pair - moving methodically. The captain double-tapped his masked crewman on the shoulder and Vega slowed up. Leaning Shaad against a wall, Vega crept to a corner and waited. The guards for the ship were definitely formidable and it would be problematic, to say the least, if it happened to be a Marine, but quick and quiet was Vega's preferred method anyway. Given that, Shaad would confidently bet on his fighter every time.
Listening closely, Vega prepared to make his move. As soon as the culprit came into view, Vega's left hand immediately covered their mouth while the other crossed under his left arm and gripped the person's shoulder. A quick spin later and they'd been slammed roughly onto the wall where Vega waited not seconds earlier. Shaad watched the muscles of Vega's leg tense up to launch a literally breathtaking rising knee. However, instead Vega paused, releasing his hold and taking a step back before peeking around the corner to make sure no one else was coming, prompting Shaad to clear his throat.