Chapter Eleven: "Downfall"
With the wind whistling incessantly in his ears and whipping its unpleasant chill at the nape of his neck, Bill Grey trudged along, hands nestled deeply in his pockets but clutching a pair of daggers. He had been trekking along for roughly an hour since his landing in the mountain valleys of northern Fortuna, and he didn't know it, but as he had arrived Slippy had successfully destroyed the bio-weapon within the oceans of Aquas. Rotten luck had rewarded Bill with a faulty radar, so locating Reivin (undoubtedly the most crafty man he had ever known) would end up being quite a challenge indeed.
"But I'll find ya," he murmured aloud through the cold breeze. "We're gonna have a nice little chat, Frost--with guns and knives."
Only twenty minutes later Bill stumbled across the remnants of a campsite. Bending low to inspect the ground the assassin discerned that a fire had been put out not long ago, and the ashes had been meticulously tended to. All else was still in perfect harmony with its original surroundings; rising to his feet again Bill dusted off the knees of his pants and chuckled to himself. "Crafty but pleasantly predictable as always," he re-alliterated, and casting one last affirming glance at the ground he slightly altered his course and continued on.
Reivin, as yet concealed within the overhang of several pine trees, crossed his arms and shook his head in amusement. "Naivety I can always count on, my dear Grey," he whispered maliciously under his breath, and he soundlessly slunk back under full cover of the trees, making his way down the slope and to the end of the fake campsite trail. The raven couldn't deny Bill's impeccable tracking skills, but he could always lure the wily Katinan to the place of his choosing by such a device.
A mere five minutes after that, Bill had reached the end of the trail--and a small grass and twig fire near which sat Reivin Frost, basking in both the bite of the wind through his ebony feathers and the warmth of the meager tongues of flame. Bill said nothing at first, but contented himself with quickly perusing the area for opportune fighting places; Reivin had always been a very intelligent, calculating duelist.
The evil assassin turned his eyes upon his nemesis and spread his wings wide. "Ah, Bill--welcome to my humble camp. I do trust you found your way easily enough?"
Bill let his knapsack fall onto the dusty stones littering the ground and sat across the fire, already feeling as though a few square inches of flame wouldn't be nearly enough to keep them separated; he doubted strongly an entire wall of fire could. "You set me up, Reivin," he answered, voice just as icy calm as his adversary's. "I'm not some trackin' novice--those ash trails were deliberate."
"Believe what you will," Reivin said with a dismissive shrug. "I knew if I remained here long enough Pepper would send his little lap-dogs after me. You see how I have been rewarded?" As Bill seethed at the insult, Reivin turned away and produced two bottles of a Zonessian herbal drink, offering one to the man across from him. "Tea? I might as well be a good host before I murder you."
Bill frowned at the bottle. "What's in it?"
"Arsenic," Reivin said, rolling his eyes. "Poison isn't very honorable, my dear Bill--the drink has not been tampered with."
The Katinan accepted and downed one-third in a few seconds. "Might as well comply before I murder you."
Reivin snickered. "Indeed."
~~*~~
Celestra and Falco docked just offshore of one of the main islands lining the Jade Coast, a chunk of land fifty miles around calle Fariel. It was late in the afternoon when the avian led his female comrade to a small outside diner by a bay, surrounded by lush willow trees and several clumps of flowery bushes dotted with strawberry-colored buds of akrila. They were seated by a charming female squirrel at a side table set for two, not speaking for several minutes as they soaked in the dying nebula light through the trees and the sweet fragrance of sauteed reelene and rose oil. Their waiter, a diminuitive koala with unnaturally large eyes, came by and set out silverware for them and asked what they would like to drink.
"You don't drink, do you?" Falco asked idly.
Celestra shrugged. "Wine. Normally zinfandel."
"Pink?"
"White."
Falco ordered a glass of sangria and studied Celestra closely until she noticed and asked, "What?"
The avian leaned back casually in his chair and continued to eye her as a smirk curled up his beak. "You look like you're feeling strangely out of place, kid."
Celestra shrugged again and dropped her gaze to the lacy tablecloth, fiddling with the ends of her dark hair in what was clearly an uncomfortable fashion. Falco grinned to himself and leaned forward, forcing her to look him in the eye, and with one simple question he had cleared the atmosphere of tension: "What, you've never been out on a date before?"
The assassin burst into laughter, sincerely grateful that he was treating this aspect of her life lightly instead of walking on eggshells. "I thought this was your vacation?"
"It was," Falco admitted. "But if you throw a cute girl into the whole situation it becomes a date."
The waiter returned with their drinks and proceeded to place their orders; Celestra sipped slowly at her wine as Falco continued, "So are you trying to tell me you've never gone out with Bill?"
"Bill's my closest childhood friend," Celestra pointed out. "Our relationship has never been anything more, and I'm grateful."
"What about that captain guy, Anilora?" the avian pressed.
At those words Celestra's gaze clouded, and she stared back down at the table. Falco cursed himself severly. "Celest, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"Oh, shut up, Falco," the assassin said with a shadow of a smile. "You didn't upset me, I just often wonder how different my life would be if Gilraen and I had decided to walk down that path. Not that we haven't talked about it--several times, in fact--it's just that our lives are so complicated . . .
"I was sixteen when I was assigned to Gilraen--yes, he was my assignment, strange though it undoubtedly sounds. Six months prior to that Gilraen had risen quickly up the ladder of politics to the point where he had become a major player in the intensifying Lylat War. General Pepper gave me the task of guarding Lieutenant Anilora during his inauguration to become captain of Katinan forces, so naturally we spent quite a bit of time together.
"Everyone thought we were the two most mismatched people in the galaxy; he was an intelligent, suave, well-to-do lieutenant every woman south of the Solar nebula thought was handsome, and I was a daring, unorthodox, solitary Macbethian assassin who preferred plasma guns and switchblades as opposed to miniskirts and lipstick. He was already twenty years of age, I was sixteen, but after awhile that just didn't seem to matter.
"But then he got elected captain and our schedules drastically changed. Gilraen tended to spend several hours a day at both KATI and the new frontline base, and as I was the most frequently hired assassin in Lylat I never spent more than a week in any specific location. Gilraen and I never saw one another often enough to make things work out. Today, three years later, our relationship remains the same."
Celestra heaved a great sigh and swilled the contents of her glass aimlessly with a fork; Falco propped his chin upon one fist and shook his head at the sweet irony of it all. The one she deserved didn't have enough time to spare, and the one sitting across the table from her could never hope to compete. Anilora was brave, honest, and everything Celestra should want in a man, and Falco found himself to be reckless, sarcastic, and far inferior to the captain of Katinan forces.
Falco knew he didn't deserve Celestra's affections, but that fact wasn't enough to stop him from caring.
Their entrees arrived after a few minutes of awkward silence, and after carefully analyzing the akrila flowers nearest to her Celestra asked, "So I take it you're experienced in the dating department?"
The avian swallowed a beakful of food and grinned knowingly. "You could say that."
Celestra smirked. "I did say that."
"Shut up." Falco fished out a cherry from his glass of sangria and chewed it thoughtfully. "My last relationship didn't exactly end well."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Her name's Katt Monroe; nowadays she's closely affiliated with Division Three of Arspace Technology, a base that operates from Zoness. She and I had a very brutal falling out a few months ago, and we haven't spoken since."
Celestra drained her glass of wine and asked politely for some water. "Arspace? Must be a smart girl." Falco rolled his eyes. "So what was the problem? Just not compatible?"
"Ah, you know--I was an insensitive jerk, she was an overbearing witch," Falco said with a chuckle, squeezing lime juice over the last dregs of sangria. "Just your standard love-hate relationship. But looking back on the whole thing now, I honestly thnk I was in love with her."
The pair finished their meal in silence, pondering all that had transpired, and within the hour they were on their way again, strolling casually down the sandy beaches, listening not to words but to the melodious roll of waves and the low yet comforting moan of the cool ocean breeze. After all, they were in the same boat of late, and much more had just occured than idle conversation.
~~*~~
"How is it that I am graced with your presence, Bill?" Reivin pondered, stoking the miniscule fire with a forked stick. "Did you draw the short straw?"
Bill frowned deeply at his nemesis from over the top of his bottle. "Ya know why I'm here," he responded icily. "You and I will never be able to live our lives until one of us kills the other. You want me dead 'cause it's the easiest way to get to Celest; I want you dead 'cause someone's gotta be around to kick the crap out of you when you get too close to her."
"Of course you're correct," Reivin affirmed, setting down his bottle and rising smoothly, drawing a pair of knives and studying Bill's face with an unsettling interest. "But tell me--how do we gain? You're only playing the game to keep Celestra alive, and I'm playing to kill both of you and gain the fear of both Seperatists and Loyalists, to leave my footsteps across Lylat. I believe this galaxy could be run by fear, my dear Bill, but only if I first eliminate those who do not tremble at my passing. That is why I must kill you now, Bill, and later I will play my game with Celestra to detirmine the real victor."
Bill growled in manic ferocity and leapt at Reivin, drawing his knives as his momentum carried him forward and slashing at the evil assassin with every ounce of his remarkable strength. Reivin, for once, was caught very off his guard and was knocked backwards beneath the grey dog's weight and they tumbled together in a screaming and whirling heap. Bill scored a glancing hit across Reivin's outer thigh and made to strike the final blow, but a heavy object struck the base of his neck and he collapsed with a groan, unconscious.
Reivin slung Bill over one shoulder and tucked his knives back into his flight vest, inclining his head in thanks to Wolf O'Donnel, who had expertly thrown the rock from within a copse of trees.
~~*~~
The sun had just faded below the line of endless ocean when Falco led Celestra down to the water's edge of the bay. The assassin had a hot pink akrila bundle wound into her ebony ponytail and Falco had one wing draped across her slender shoulders. The translucent waves lapped lazily at the shoreline as they passed, dampening their shoes, and the faint starlight illuminated everything with a truly mysterious light. They paused just next to the dock at which their boat was tethered and stared up at the mystical heavens, sharing a moment that transcended their understanding of space and time.
"You didn't have to come with me today," Falco insisted, smiling down at her.
"Oh shut up already, Lombardi," Celestra replied dismissively, punching him playfully in the shoulder. "I was glad to get away."
The breeze picked up suddenly and a few silken strands of her black hair tickled his cheek; turning to face her Falco asked softly, "Why is it that you never wear your hair down, Celest? Does it just bother you or something?"
Celestra grinned, even white teeth glittering faintly in the starlight. "Force of habit, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
Falco didn't answer, only reached out and gently loosened the tie in her gorgeous hair and let the shoulder-length strands blow freely in the cool, salty breeze. Celestra, expecting to feel strangely violated, found her smile widening as she took his hand in hers and basked in the perfect magic of the night.
"Would it be alright if I kissed you?" Falco murmured over the wind.
Celestra's gaze clouded again. "I've never kissed anyone before," she admitted. "I might be bad at it."
"That's not possible, kid," he assured her, and he leaned down and kissed her under the open sky, and all the world spun in the glow of the soft starlight and the tingle of the cool ocean droplets against their faces.
Celestra Marquette slept that night, more soundly and peacefully than she had in many, many years.
~~*~~
It was long after the moon was on the wane before Leon Powalski risked venturing out of his clever camoflauge. He had hidden safely within the tendrils of the willow trees circumferencing the diner, and in effect he had listened to the entire conversation between Falco and Celestra about their past relationships, growing bored after awhile and remaining behind when they left for their stroll on the beach. Now he reclined comfortably in one of the soda chairs, boots stretched out on the table in front of him, mulling over the finer points of what the female assassin had detailed about her status with Captain Anilora.
"All this time you had us thinking you felt no emotion," Leon mused to himself. "But I think I've finally solved the enigma behind your intricate workings."
Leon returned to his fighter jet half an hour later, a smile touching his face. Celestra Marquette was human after all, he had decided, and once he kidnapped Anilora he could prove it to everyone.
With the wind whistling incessantly in his ears and whipping its unpleasant chill at the nape of his neck, Bill Grey trudged along, hands nestled deeply in his pockets but clutching a pair of daggers. He had been trekking along for roughly an hour since his landing in the mountain valleys of northern Fortuna, and he didn't know it, but as he had arrived Slippy had successfully destroyed the bio-weapon within the oceans of Aquas. Rotten luck had rewarded Bill with a faulty radar, so locating Reivin (undoubtedly the most crafty man he had ever known) would end up being quite a challenge indeed.
"But I'll find ya," he murmured aloud through the cold breeze. "We're gonna have a nice little chat, Frost--with guns and knives."
Only twenty minutes later Bill stumbled across the remnants of a campsite. Bending low to inspect the ground the assassin discerned that a fire had been put out not long ago, and the ashes had been meticulously tended to. All else was still in perfect harmony with its original surroundings; rising to his feet again Bill dusted off the knees of his pants and chuckled to himself. "Crafty but pleasantly predictable as always," he re-alliterated, and casting one last affirming glance at the ground he slightly altered his course and continued on.
Reivin, as yet concealed within the overhang of several pine trees, crossed his arms and shook his head in amusement. "Naivety I can always count on, my dear Grey," he whispered maliciously under his breath, and he soundlessly slunk back under full cover of the trees, making his way down the slope and to the end of the fake campsite trail. The raven couldn't deny Bill's impeccable tracking skills, but he could always lure the wily Katinan to the place of his choosing by such a device.
A mere five minutes after that, Bill had reached the end of the trail--and a small grass and twig fire near which sat Reivin Frost, basking in both the bite of the wind through his ebony feathers and the warmth of the meager tongues of flame. Bill said nothing at first, but contented himself with quickly perusing the area for opportune fighting places; Reivin had always been a very intelligent, calculating duelist.
The evil assassin turned his eyes upon his nemesis and spread his wings wide. "Ah, Bill--welcome to my humble camp. I do trust you found your way easily enough?"
Bill let his knapsack fall onto the dusty stones littering the ground and sat across the fire, already feeling as though a few square inches of flame wouldn't be nearly enough to keep them separated; he doubted strongly an entire wall of fire could. "You set me up, Reivin," he answered, voice just as icy calm as his adversary's. "I'm not some trackin' novice--those ash trails were deliberate."
"Believe what you will," Reivin said with a dismissive shrug. "I knew if I remained here long enough Pepper would send his little lap-dogs after me. You see how I have been rewarded?" As Bill seethed at the insult, Reivin turned away and produced two bottles of a Zonessian herbal drink, offering one to the man across from him. "Tea? I might as well be a good host before I murder you."
Bill frowned at the bottle. "What's in it?"
"Arsenic," Reivin said, rolling his eyes. "Poison isn't very honorable, my dear Bill--the drink has not been tampered with."
The Katinan accepted and downed one-third in a few seconds. "Might as well comply before I murder you."
Reivin snickered. "Indeed."
~~*~~
Celestra and Falco docked just offshore of one of the main islands lining the Jade Coast, a chunk of land fifty miles around calle Fariel. It was late in the afternoon when the avian led his female comrade to a small outside diner by a bay, surrounded by lush willow trees and several clumps of flowery bushes dotted with strawberry-colored buds of akrila. They were seated by a charming female squirrel at a side table set for two, not speaking for several minutes as they soaked in the dying nebula light through the trees and the sweet fragrance of sauteed reelene and rose oil. Their waiter, a diminuitive koala with unnaturally large eyes, came by and set out silverware for them and asked what they would like to drink.
"You don't drink, do you?" Falco asked idly.
Celestra shrugged. "Wine. Normally zinfandel."
"Pink?"
"White."
Falco ordered a glass of sangria and studied Celestra closely until she noticed and asked, "What?"
The avian leaned back casually in his chair and continued to eye her as a smirk curled up his beak. "You look like you're feeling strangely out of place, kid."
Celestra shrugged again and dropped her gaze to the lacy tablecloth, fiddling with the ends of her dark hair in what was clearly an uncomfortable fashion. Falco grinned to himself and leaned forward, forcing her to look him in the eye, and with one simple question he had cleared the atmosphere of tension: "What, you've never been out on a date before?"
The assassin burst into laughter, sincerely grateful that he was treating this aspect of her life lightly instead of walking on eggshells. "I thought this was your vacation?"
"It was," Falco admitted. "But if you throw a cute girl into the whole situation it becomes a date."
The waiter returned with their drinks and proceeded to place their orders; Celestra sipped slowly at her wine as Falco continued, "So are you trying to tell me you've never gone out with Bill?"
"Bill's my closest childhood friend," Celestra pointed out. "Our relationship has never been anything more, and I'm grateful."
"What about that captain guy, Anilora?" the avian pressed.
At those words Celestra's gaze clouded, and she stared back down at the table. Falco cursed himself severly. "Celest, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"Oh, shut up, Falco," the assassin said with a shadow of a smile. "You didn't upset me, I just often wonder how different my life would be if Gilraen and I had decided to walk down that path. Not that we haven't talked about it--several times, in fact--it's just that our lives are so complicated . . .
"I was sixteen when I was assigned to Gilraen--yes, he was my assignment, strange though it undoubtedly sounds. Six months prior to that Gilraen had risen quickly up the ladder of politics to the point where he had become a major player in the intensifying Lylat War. General Pepper gave me the task of guarding Lieutenant Anilora during his inauguration to become captain of Katinan forces, so naturally we spent quite a bit of time together.
"Everyone thought we were the two most mismatched people in the galaxy; he was an intelligent, suave, well-to-do lieutenant every woman south of the Solar nebula thought was handsome, and I was a daring, unorthodox, solitary Macbethian assassin who preferred plasma guns and switchblades as opposed to miniskirts and lipstick. He was already twenty years of age, I was sixteen, but after awhile that just didn't seem to matter.
"But then he got elected captain and our schedules drastically changed. Gilraen tended to spend several hours a day at both KATI and the new frontline base, and as I was the most frequently hired assassin in Lylat I never spent more than a week in any specific location. Gilraen and I never saw one another often enough to make things work out. Today, three years later, our relationship remains the same."
Celestra heaved a great sigh and swilled the contents of her glass aimlessly with a fork; Falco propped his chin upon one fist and shook his head at the sweet irony of it all. The one she deserved didn't have enough time to spare, and the one sitting across the table from her could never hope to compete. Anilora was brave, honest, and everything Celestra should want in a man, and Falco found himself to be reckless, sarcastic, and far inferior to the captain of Katinan forces.
Falco knew he didn't deserve Celestra's affections, but that fact wasn't enough to stop him from caring.
Their entrees arrived after a few minutes of awkward silence, and after carefully analyzing the akrila flowers nearest to her Celestra asked, "So I take it you're experienced in the dating department?"
The avian swallowed a beakful of food and grinned knowingly. "You could say that."
Celestra smirked. "I did say that."
"Shut up." Falco fished out a cherry from his glass of sangria and chewed it thoughtfully. "My last relationship didn't exactly end well."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Her name's Katt Monroe; nowadays she's closely affiliated with Division Three of Arspace Technology, a base that operates from Zoness. She and I had a very brutal falling out a few months ago, and we haven't spoken since."
Celestra drained her glass of wine and asked politely for some water. "Arspace? Must be a smart girl." Falco rolled his eyes. "So what was the problem? Just not compatible?"
"Ah, you know--I was an insensitive jerk, she was an overbearing witch," Falco said with a chuckle, squeezing lime juice over the last dregs of sangria. "Just your standard love-hate relationship. But looking back on the whole thing now, I honestly thnk I was in love with her."
The pair finished their meal in silence, pondering all that had transpired, and within the hour they were on their way again, strolling casually down the sandy beaches, listening not to words but to the melodious roll of waves and the low yet comforting moan of the cool ocean breeze. After all, they were in the same boat of late, and much more had just occured than idle conversation.
~~*~~
"How is it that I am graced with your presence, Bill?" Reivin pondered, stoking the miniscule fire with a forked stick. "Did you draw the short straw?"
Bill frowned deeply at his nemesis from over the top of his bottle. "Ya know why I'm here," he responded icily. "You and I will never be able to live our lives until one of us kills the other. You want me dead 'cause it's the easiest way to get to Celest; I want you dead 'cause someone's gotta be around to kick the crap out of you when you get too close to her."
"Of course you're correct," Reivin affirmed, setting down his bottle and rising smoothly, drawing a pair of knives and studying Bill's face with an unsettling interest. "But tell me--how do we gain? You're only playing the game to keep Celestra alive, and I'm playing to kill both of you and gain the fear of both Seperatists and Loyalists, to leave my footsteps across Lylat. I believe this galaxy could be run by fear, my dear Bill, but only if I first eliminate those who do not tremble at my passing. That is why I must kill you now, Bill, and later I will play my game with Celestra to detirmine the real victor."
Bill growled in manic ferocity and leapt at Reivin, drawing his knives as his momentum carried him forward and slashing at the evil assassin with every ounce of his remarkable strength. Reivin, for once, was caught very off his guard and was knocked backwards beneath the grey dog's weight and they tumbled together in a screaming and whirling heap. Bill scored a glancing hit across Reivin's outer thigh and made to strike the final blow, but a heavy object struck the base of his neck and he collapsed with a groan, unconscious.
Reivin slung Bill over one shoulder and tucked his knives back into his flight vest, inclining his head in thanks to Wolf O'Donnel, who had expertly thrown the rock from within a copse of trees.
~~*~~
The sun had just faded below the line of endless ocean when Falco led Celestra down to the water's edge of the bay. The assassin had a hot pink akrila bundle wound into her ebony ponytail and Falco had one wing draped across her slender shoulders. The translucent waves lapped lazily at the shoreline as they passed, dampening their shoes, and the faint starlight illuminated everything with a truly mysterious light. They paused just next to the dock at which their boat was tethered and stared up at the mystical heavens, sharing a moment that transcended their understanding of space and time.
"You didn't have to come with me today," Falco insisted, smiling down at her.
"Oh shut up already, Lombardi," Celestra replied dismissively, punching him playfully in the shoulder. "I was glad to get away."
The breeze picked up suddenly and a few silken strands of her black hair tickled his cheek; turning to face her Falco asked softly, "Why is it that you never wear your hair down, Celest? Does it just bother you or something?"
Celestra grinned, even white teeth glittering faintly in the starlight. "Force of habit, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
Falco didn't answer, only reached out and gently loosened the tie in her gorgeous hair and let the shoulder-length strands blow freely in the cool, salty breeze. Celestra, expecting to feel strangely violated, found her smile widening as she took his hand in hers and basked in the perfect magic of the night.
"Would it be alright if I kissed you?" Falco murmured over the wind.
Celestra's gaze clouded again. "I've never kissed anyone before," she admitted. "I might be bad at it."
"That's not possible, kid," he assured her, and he leaned down and kissed her under the open sky, and all the world spun in the glow of the soft starlight and the tingle of the cool ocean droplets against their faces.
Celestra Marquette slept that night, more soundly and peacefully than she had in many, many years.
~~*~~
It was long after the moon was on the wane before Leon Powalski risked venturing out of his clever camoflauge. He had hidden safely within the tendrils of the willow trees circumferencing the diner, and in effect he had listened to the entire conversation between Falco and Celestra about their past relationships, growing bored after awhile and remaining behind when they left for their stroll on the beach. Now he reclined comfortably in one of the soda chairs, boots stretched out on the table in front of him, mulling over the finer points of what the female assassin had detailed about her status with Captain Anilora.
"All this time you had us thinking you felt no emotion," Leon mused to himself. "But I think I've finally solved the enigma behind your intricate workings."
Leon returned to his fighter jet half an hour later, a smile touching his face. Celestra Marquette was human after all, he had decided, and once he kidnapped Anilora he could prove it to everyone.