Quests for Yin

"Ugh. How long was I out for," Shaad droned, blinking heavily as his eyes adjusted to the pounding sun.

"A week," Raine groaned weakly.

"What!?" Shaad wanted to shoot to an upright position, but a jolting pain limited him to reclining on his elbows.

"Relax; you were only out the better part of a day."

Shaad eased his tensed muscles only slightly. "A day? . . . What'd I miss?"

"That's my question," Raine exclaimed, her voice rising as much as she could muster. "The ship gets rocked by some kind of blast, and I find you nearly unconscious and looking like somebody ran your arms over an open flame."

"I decided to try an idea that came to me on Tatihara; a new technique. Long story short, it didn't work," Shaad explained through gritted teeth, finally finding the strength to pick himself up. "What happened?" Worry crept into Shaad's tone as he saw Raine's wounds for the first time.

"Escaping while dragging your lazy ass, that's what happened."

Ignoring that comment, Shaad eyed the amateurish patch-up job that had been done on his navigator. It was obvious neither of them had any experience in the area. Shaad, comparatively, while by no means a medic, could at least be considered competent in the realm of basic first-aid and only slightly less so in emergency first aid. "Vega, hand me the first-aid supplies," he commanded, a bit surprised when Vega handed him a pristine white tin instead of the bundled collection he was used to, his expression saying as much. "Makes sense; lifeboat and all. Were you able to retrieve our stuff as well? Well at least we didn't lose everything."

"Yeah, but you will pay me back every beli your recklessness cost."

Shaad, instead of arguing, just rolled his eyes. At this point, his debt was growing so astronomical that he'd be lucky (or unlucky) if his bounty ever got so high. Still, he did get some small satisfaction from Raine hissing her prolonged discomfort as he poured the alcohol on her open wounds, keeping her turned away to keep the small smirk playing on his lips out of her view.

"You're lucky. The shots were all through and throughs, and the arrow just grazed you. A nasty blade, too," Shaad said, examining the gash running along her torso."

"Sure," Raine sounded sarcastically. "You only think that cause it gave you an excuse to touch my ass."

Shaad's face reddened and he immediately moved his hand while Raine snickered at his expense.

"No, put it back. I could use a massage," the sultry woman sensually cooed, her voice lighter than usual though freshly awoken, Shaad was too flustered to catch it as he turned away.

"Hey, Vega, you weren't cut as much, but it might be best to put some balm on those bruises at least." The stoic, masked fighter turned his chin just enough to side eye the captain. "Very funny," Shaad replied dryly. "It was an accident. Besides, -"

Thunk. Shaad's statement was cut off as Raine fell to the deck with a loud thud behind him. Immediately cradling her head, the captain brushed aside her hair, easily feeling the heat spawned from her sweat glistened brow. "Raine. Raine!" Even as his voice raised in volume and panic set in, he was careful not to shake her too heavily. "Oh no. We have to find an island quickly! Raine needs medical attention," Shaad commanded sternly as Vega appeared over his shoulder, panicked and with an urgency that made his heart jackhammer in his chest. "Set a path for. . . somewhere."

"No, you don't get to slack," Isaac snapped at K'ron. "It's your fault we're in this mess. So, if you've got the energy to fight, then you can sail."

K'ron let out a pathetic whine as he exaggerated the pain he felt from pulling a rope taut to keep the sail from wavering, but the others paid him no mind.

"You sure about this," Berret, the gunman asked Isaac after the shrewdest member of their little group checked on the fourth person, Jin Sun, to have him alter the boat's heading ever so slightly.

"I'd feel more confident with a Log Pose," Isaac responded while searching out the sun and the wind's direction. "But, yes, I have faith in my studies as well. Given our current course, we should be upon an island at about 10 klicks due East within the week."

"A week," K'ron groaned. "But, I'm starving now."

Before another defeated sigh could escape the brawler's lips, Berret had tagged him upside the head with a pouch of gunpowder, tired of his antics. "You're the reason I had to rush from La Isla del Drago before refilling supplies and before the Log set. So, since the only food you provided is that Devil's Fruit, why don't you eat that?"

"You know I can't."

"Oh, I know." Berret gave wry smile before going back inside.

Raine's fever had not abated in the days since she fell unconscious. And, in those rare moments of lucidity, it was all she could do to keep from passing out from the near constant retching up of her insides. During one period where sustenance was neither filling or disconcertingly emptying her body she'd told Shaad and Vega to follow some Pol - something. . . a bright star she'd said to always keep over the right shoulder and just within his peripheral. Her directions were fairly confident, but Shaad's confidence in them was lower than her poor health. Still, one of his father's many lessons reverberated within his rattled mind: 'In battle, trust your shadow; in war, trust your strategist; and at sea, trust your navigator.' There were some additional notes, but Shaad wasn't yet at a point to make sense of those. The young captain understood his father's emphasis on trust, though. And, if he were to trust Raine enough to be his navigator, he had to also wholeheartedly trust her direction.

So, they followed the line dictated by the ailing beauty. But, while the journey had been set, it wasn't exactly smooth. Even without any crashing storms or turbulent waves, the effects of the strong winds and occasional rain battering their miniscule lifeboat made for a harrowing trip for the ill-equipped pair. Under equipped and underfed, the extended trial left Shaad and Vega with little in the way of both energy and, even more importantly, control.

Still, somehow, they'd managed to keep relatively on the right track. The masked man, for his part, kept himself together better than his captain. Vega had been through similar conditions. First as an orphan street thief, then as a captive gladiator for Sangre, the lithe figure had been hungry. He'd been tired. But, through it all, he'd been a survivor.

Shaad, though, expended what energy he had in a futile attempt to break open the ship's vault. And, that little he'd recovered since escape was now being spread thin just to keep him aware and halfway reactive. Even with his Devil Fruit, though, Shaad had never been this low, this on edge, and this out of it. His time isolated on the island nor training with his father had ever left the young pirate in such a state.

It had been well over a week by the time, Vega saw an island hazily over the horizon. Shaad, hardly half awake, had spotted it as well, but it failed to register through his exhausted stupor. At Vega's confirmation, however, the captain's eyes shot open. As if shot with adrenaline, a renewed wave of energy pushed Shaad into action. Handing an oar to his partner, he shared few words. "Let's keep this efficient. We don't know what we're gonna run into."

Coming up on the island, there wasn't much to see. It was a smaller island with dense forests spread about an uneven, hilly terrain. Hardly any development appeared to have taken place and no port to speak of existed. Still, a boat - maybe a two-sailed schooner though that much was hard to confirm we their distance - bobbed in the water, anchored by a beach. The trio wasn't close enough to make out the boat's condition or the existence of any crew.

And, Shaad would keep it that way. Pointing to an isolated, covered cove not too far from the boat but still out of sight, Shaad directed that their lifeboat be stored there.

The group arrived to the island not too much later. Unexpectedly delayed, hungry, and winded - at least Shaad was; the captain near had mind to swear Vega was a robot - they pulled the boat to shore while gauging the perimeter. The vessel they'd spotted was around the way, but they hadn't risked getting close enough to see any people and even a ship that size could still carry a decent number of people without issue.

Raine was out for the time. That was almost better at this point as her waking moments had essentially whittled down to unobstructed periods of agony of which she no longer maintained the strength to voice. "I'd rather handle this judiciously, but in order to move quickly we'll need to stay together," Shaad voiced, finding rope to tie the unconscious navigator onto his back before readying to venture into the forest at large to make a beeline for the unidentified schooner.

Once secured, they headed out with Vega taking the lead. Shaad hoped to jostle Raine as little as possible. Fortunately, they didn't run into any hostiles, only a bit of relatively harmless wildlife that didn't cause any notable trouble.

"Ugh, you've been at it almost eight hours," Berret complained as he watched Isaac and K'ron clash and separate while nursing heavy bruising across his torso and right face.

"You're just mad you're not gonna be captain," K'ron half shouted, breathing heavily as he pursued Isaac. This pattern had held for most the entire time it was just those two with Isaac never wanting to stick close for a prolonged exchange. Across from K'ron, though, Isaac's wind was holding far better as his chest rose and fell in practiced rhythm.

"Aah, get bent," Berret snapped, "A coupla lucky shots, that's all." The outburst only got a scoff in return "You're lucky I held back," he tacked on with a glare from his lone remaining good eye.

Any comeback K'ron thought up died in his throat as Isaac rocked him with a hard cross, the former marine just kicking out in time to narrowly escape K'ron's outstretched hand. It was the first solid strike Isaac had landed and all it drew was a small sliver of blood and a smirk that Isaac knew meant his wild-eyed companion was finally feeling some modicum of enjoyment.

Sure enough, K'ron launched forward with greater speed, tagging Isaac with a combination uppercut/hook. So focused on returning the favor was he, that the excitable young brawler let range get away from him and knocked Isaac against an old tree with a stiff straight.

K'ron immediately pursued but the split second respite with the wind at his back jostled enough life back into the dazed Isaac to let him regain his footing and all but throw himself out of the way of K'ron's follow-up. The crazed brawler practically howled with laughter while throwing rapid punches down on his scurrying friend.

Shaad trudged through knee deep water to get to the ship's anchor. Even 'running on E' and with Raine still strapped to his back, scaling the side of the ship wasn't what the pirate captain would call taxing. He'd done it many times in his youth and rock climbing had become a favored pastime. Any fond recollections, however, were swiftly thrust aside by another, more recent, remembrance: the flag flying above the ship.

It took a little while to place it, but that tree between two upturned pistols touching at the handles indicating Nairo elites was unmistakeable. He'd faced enough of them not even a month ago for it to be seared into his memory. Shaad internally groaned at the reminder of his run-in with one such elite in the country's Namijima forest and what all that fight took.

In no condition to fight either the elite commander or any of the presumed dozen or so crew, Shaad removed Raine from his back, placing her gently along the ship's aft before moving to lower the sails and get the ship ready to sail, hoping that whatever was going on in the beach meant there was no crew left guarding the ship.

While able to limit the damage he took to only a few grazing impacts, Isaac's breathing nonetheless caught pace with that of his pursuer in fast fashion. Barely avoiding a punch that would have easily separated him from consciousness, Isaac grabbed hold of K'ron's arm and kicked out the younger man's legs before another could follow.

"Stop right there," Berret yelled, his voice paired with a sharp gunshot and pausing K'ron long enough to allow Isaac time to push his wild-haired compatriot off and hop to his feet before looking to the gunman himself.

With narrowed gaze, Berret aimed his pistols, but not at either of the men he sailed with. His guns pointed past them. To a distant figure on the deck of his ship.

Shaad eyed the man who'd shouted the directive, mildly surprised he'd been caught at this distance. He made sure those he could see were busy, and the distance was such that he could hardly make out more than upraised masses moving in vaguely human pattern. The bullet whizzing just in front of his eyes as he skulked toward the sails, though, clearly informed that his opposition was under no such limitations.

However, that factor caused little in the way of worry. While mildly surprising, Shaad had planned for it nonetheless. And, those plans were revealed to the gunman in short order as Berret felt the sting of three blade points pressing against his trachea. "Drop the guns and tell your men to stand down," Shaad ordered, his voice firm and resolute. "No one has to get hurt, but I'm smarter than to take chances with a squad like yours."

Berret felt a fresh wave of pain prick him and the warm dribble of fresh blood when his arms merely tensed in the contemplation of defiance. Ultimately, the hand-crafted pistols dropped to the sand with a softened thud, Berret resigned to giving up his favored weapons for the time being while Isaac and K'ron each held back barely contained rage.

Kicking away both guns, Vega delivered a sharp knee to the back of Berret's leg, forcing the gunman to his knees, before raking the 'claw' across the presumed soldier's throat and throwing the body into the dirt under a spurt of crimson liquid. Isaac reacted almost immediately, dashing to aid Berret while Vega moved toward the ship at breakneck speed. But, neither made it far before a sudden, intense pressure forced them both to the ground, Vega slamming with enough force to draw an involuntary, pained cough and kick up a decent dust cloud.

The pressure was short lived, its effect obviously greatest on the masked attacker as shown in the time it took to resume his escape. Though, in truth, mere fractions of a second separated Vega's reaction from those around him, someone else had already made their move. Flying through the air in a graceful, high arced flip, a willowy figure slammed into Vega's back with a fully extended leg to the center of the masked man's spine prying another pained cry from the normally silent fighter.

K'ron rose from his spot to the side of all this, chest rising and falling under tightly coiled muscle like a snake ready to strike with its deadly venom, all traces of any joy washed from his face. Releasing a weighty exhale, K'ron became so light on his feet that he nearly floated, throwing himself bodily at the cause of all this: Shaad, barely prepared to offer even a fledgling defense against the fast approaching meteor of a young man.