Percin blinked, mouth hanging open in surprise as he looked out the window of the All for One.
Security patrols had always been one of the main obstacles in operating within the Zenith system - even if you took them out, they near-instantly transmitted a warning to the nearest security station. Percin himself had had to abandon many a raid after detecting them approaching the area. They were an annoyance, needless to say, but he had always seen them as obstacles to be avoided, not enemies to be defeated.
And yet … this new weapon of the Captain's, this … this Servant, had neutralized that obstacle with as much effort it took to squash a bug with a finger.
"Have I convinced ya yet, Perce?" boomed the Captain, sat at his throne at the back of the room. It was just the Captain's seat, of course, but with the way he sat in it, you had no choice but to think of it as a throne.
Percin turned away from the window, regaining his composure as he looked at the Captain. As he did so, he brushed a lock of pale hair out of his vision. Percin wasn't a old man by any means, but he had a full head of white hair nonetheless, a stark contrast with the Captain's black.
The Captain adjusted himself on his throne.
He was a huge man - not as big as the Servant, but still a true goliath - and toned with muscle. One eye was behind a patch that fed him tactical data, but the other stared forward, red pupil shining with a peculiar optimism. He wore an open jacket with no shirt underneath it - he liked showing himself off - and a pair of ragged blue jeans. There were no shoes in the ensemble - the Captain said that he never wore shoes while he was at home, and the All for One was the only home he had.
Percin had known him for about thirty years now. He didn't understand Captain Baruk in the least.
Nevertheless, he shrugged, adopting an easy grin on his face. This was the kind of demeanour the Captain approved of - he didn't care to have his momentum stopped or even slowed down. "He's impressive, Captain. I'll give ya that. I don't see anyone standing against us so long as he's around."
Baruk chuckled. "I know, right? Yo, Bhishma. C'mere a sec." He snapped his fingers.
The Servant - Archer, apparently - appeared next to Baruk's throne, arms crossed. As he did so, the men gathered in the room - scoundrels one and all - lifted their drinks and cheered him for a job well done. He didn't respond. He didn't even look at the cheering men. Baruk didn't seem to notice that, though.
Percin winced inwardly. It seemed to him that this Archer was the kind of hero who was big on honour and all that. No doubt it hurt his pride to work with - no, work for a bunch of pirates. Well, he'd just have to get used to it.
"You did good, Bhishma," grinned Baruk, leaning back in his throne. "Proud of ya."
"Master," Archer spoke, his voice a rumble, eyes glancing at the Captain with a hint of exasperation. "We've already talked about this, but I'd advise against you using my True Name so recklessly. Others may hear of this conversation."
"Nah, nah," Baruk waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I trust my boys, and I'm right to. Right, boys?"
Another cheer rippled throughout the room. Percin smiled to himself. Baruk could pretty much provoke that response on request now. It was the kind of thing they could never have dreamed of thirty years back.
Archer simply sighed, fading away again - but that didn't seem to lessen Baruk's mood any, who continued his roaring laugh. "Ah, he's a good sport! Save him a drink for later, boys!"
Percin was fairly sure this Archer didn't drink - from what he'd observed so far - but he didn't say anything. Let the Captain have his fun. He'd more than earned it, after all.
Taking a sip of his own drink, Percin closed his eyes and let the party wash him away.
At some point in the night, mind more liquid than solid from drink and smoke, Percin became aware that Archer was sat next to him, taking up two seats. The Servant was eating an entire chicken - cutting it up with a comically small knife and fork, held between his fingers. Percin couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
"Amusing to you that I must eat?" rumbled Archer, sobering Percin up some - but only some. He was still only marginally aware of what was going on.
"It's, haha, ehehe, you know … small, eh?"
"Why do you follow this man?" Archer continued as if Percin hadn't said anything. With one finger, he motioned towards the Captain, sleeping in his throne. "Despite your current … state, you seem an intelligent man. I notice you observing and judging, advising my Master when an opportunity emerges."
Percin blinked, suddenly feeling as if this were a very important conversation. A pressure seemed to radiate from Archer, telling him that. His answer here would decide a great many things.
Clearing as much of the haze from his mind as he could, Percin spoke: "I've known the Captain - your Master - most of my life. We grew up on Europa Colony together - families worked in the life mines there. I've…" he took another breath. "I don't suppose I've ever wanted anything. Telling ya the truth, gimme food, water and sleep and I'm a happy enough man. But Baruk … he can want enough for two men. Hell, enough for a hundred."
Archer raised an eyebrow. "You follow him because of his greed?"
Percin shook his head. "Nah, nah. Ain't greed. There's some of that, sure, but it's what he does about it. Man's a dreamer, the biggest one I've ever seen. He wants something, he gets it - but more than that, he makes you believe he can get it, makes you want to help him get it, just to see it happen. Just to be part of the dream, you know?"
He looked over at his sleeping Captain fondly, a nostalgic smile rising to his lips. Baruk'd been a tiny thing, back on Europa, and Percin had always been looking down at him. When had it become the other way around? When had his heart begun to beat so strangely when he looked at him, listened to him ramble about his ambitions? It was nonsense, to be sure, but Percin held onto every word.
Archer followed Percin's gaze, nodding slightly. "I understand. He inspires others to accompany him. That's praiseworthy, to be sure, but what dreams has he left to achieve? He lives in a warship dripping with gold, surrounded by followers who worship him. What does his ambition target?"
Percin froze, remembering the dark days after Gemini Station. The days when his Captain had just sat there, sapped of will, eyes dead and cold. The whispered accusations, the sobs and wails in the night. That damned photo, hugged to his chest at all hours.
"That's personal," he said coldly, and more forcefully than most would dare in the company of a hero such as Archer.
The Servant looked down at him, eyes widening in surprise. "How so?"
"There's no need for me to tell you that," he continued. "And I'd ask you not ask it of the Captain, either. I respect your abilities, sir, I do, but you've gotta understand that that ain't any of your business. You can fight for your wish without worrying about what the Captain wants."
"If my Master desires death and destruction," said Archer calmly. "Then I cannot follow him. It would be my duty to shoot him down right now. At this moment."
The two stared at each other, eyes unbreaking. Percin instantly understood that Archer was not joking or exaggerating. If he gave the wrong answer, the Servant would stand up and put an arrow through the Captain's head without a moment's hesitation.
"I'll tell you that - that his wish won't cause any harm to anyone. It's to regain something … to regain something lost, not take something from someone else. That okay with you?"
Despite the sounds of the party around them, the cheering and carousing, the room seemed silent to Percin - save for the sound of his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears like war drums. Would Archer stand up? Percin was hyper focused, waiting for the slightest muscle movement that would give him an answer one way or the other.
What would he do? Shout a warning? That was pointless. Archer had destroyed those two patrol ships in less time than it took to blink. He wouldn't even be able to open his mouth before the man got a shot off.
He could only hope, then, that he'd given the right answer.
Finally, Archer blinked. He gave no signs of standing up. "To bring back something that has been lost…" he mused, rubbing his chin. "A loved one, then?"
"It ain't my place to tell you that."
Archer chuckled, a low sound that went right through Perin's bones. It was the first sign of levity that he'd seen from the Servant. "I suppose not. Your loyalty is a splendid thing, mister…?"
"Lawson."
"Mr. Lawson."
Archer got up, and Perin's heart nearly burst right out of his chest in shock, but the man made no moves to attack. Instead, he turned away - walking towards the hallway that led through crew quarters.
"Where're you going?" said Perin, brow furrowing in confusion.
"For the time being," Archer said, stopping for a moment. "I will amuse myself with exploration of this vessel. Please tell my Master that."
"You want me to tell him? Why?"
"I like you, Mr. Lawson," said Archer, an unmistakable tone of respect in his voice. "You are a frank man who is aware of his own mind, if not his heart. These are the kinds of people I get along with, so I have hopes for you. I'll handle all contact with my Master through you for the time being. Do you understand?"
Blinking rapidly, Perin nodded, still confused. "But - but why?"
"My Master does not know his own mind. He layers merriment over sorrow, as if that erases it. It does not, and he must learn that." Archer raised a finger. "And tell him this also - I will not engage in needless bloodshed again. This first demonstration was necessary to prove my abilities to him, but the only enemies I will fight from this point on are Servants. That is a vow I make before you now, and I will hold myself to it until the end of this war."
With that said, he turned away and disappeared into the depths of the ship, leaving a befuddled Percin in the room behind him.
"That so? He's pretty cheeky, huh?" said the Captain the next morning, rubbing at the stubble on his chin.
They were sat in Baruk's quarters the next morning, and Percin had just finished relaying Archer's message. Baruk was lounging in his bed at the time - doubtless still nursing a healthy hangover - while Percin sat at his bedside.
"Sounds like a headache to me, Captain," said Percin. "If he ain't gonna be following orders, then how much trust can we - can you put in him? You don't send a package off with a guy you don't know is gonna deliver."
Baruk sat there for about a minute, eyes closed, simply thinking things through - or trying to get over his headache? It was hard to tell.
"Sir?" Percin ventured, leaning in a little in an attempt to read Baruk's expression. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, and Percin jerked back a little in surprise and mild embarrassment. The Captain pounded a fist into his palm, as if he were a judge coming to a verdict.
"Nah, nah," he chuckled. "I like that. I like that he said that. I like guys that can speak their minds. Nothing worse than a suckup. Besides, anything that ain't a Servant - we can take care of easy peasy. Can't let that bastard have all the fun, right?"
The Captain liked people that were frank.
Archer had said something, hadn't he? You are a frank man who is aware of his own mind, if not his heart. If not his heart…
Percin opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Being able to stay and fight at his Captain's side, to watch in awe as he snatched the stars out of the skies themselves, and wrestled his dreams away from God … surely that was enough for him.
Surely.
Walking out of her father's office, Rosa Vane was nearly hyperventilating, moving down the hallway as fast as her feet would allow without outright breaking into a run. The faux-windows on either side of her, holographically generated, displayed the vistas of a dozen different alien worlds. Fields of singing grass, canyons of magma and smoke, diamonds flying through the skies like birds.
She couldn't appreciate any of them. Her brother was missing - no, worse than that, he'd been kidnapped. Stolen! And the things they'd threatened to do to him…
She squeezed her fists so tight her nails nearly drew blood - then, realizing that, she began running her hands through her hair instead, tugging on her red ponytail for a moment. It looked ridiculous, but she needed to be doing something. She felt so useless. Dad had sent out security throughout the system, but what if they didn't find Isaac? What if that just angered the people who'd taken him?
I will tear his eyes out from his head, and his tongue out from his mouth.
I will break every bone he has.
I will drown him in acid and see him empty.
She put a hand to her mouth and leaned against the wall, suppressing an urge to vomit. Imagining her little brother in that position … it was unbearable. She looked at the Command Seals on the back of her hand, in the shape of three diamonds. Should she just do what the kidnapper said, then? Order her Servant to kill himself?
No. That was too easy an answer, too good to be true. Isaac was too valuable a hostage - they'd surely keep hold of him after that, and demand more. And maybe they would kill him anyway after that, just for the fun of it. I will drown him in acid and see him empty. No sane mind would come up with that threat.
They were going to kill her brother. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. OhgodohgodohgodohgodOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD -
"Miss," said Lancer, appearing behind her, his voice reassuring. He placed a hand on her shoulder - although the suit made it cold, it was still a comfort, and Rosa was - over the course of the next few minutes - able to get herself under control, blinking tears of frustration out of her eyes.
"Th...thank you," she said eventually, putting a hand to her chest and breathing deeply, the way her tutors had taught her to when she got stressed. "I needed that."
"No problemo, Miss," said Lancer, taking a step away to give her some space. His boots were heavy on the floor. "It's what I'm here for, the way I see it."
Turning away from the wall to face her Servant, Rosa smiled. Surely there was no need to make Lancer kill himself - with this hero at her side, neither Earth nor Heaven could stand in the way of them getting her brother back. After all, this was the man who had conquered both all those years ago.
Despite the fact that he was wearing a concealing spacesuit, Rosa could feel sympathy radiating out of the opaque black visor.
"Thank you, Mr. Armstrong," she said again.