Here is Chapter 7 of a Tale of Two Worlds. I've seen several readers, but no reviews. Constructive criticism and good reviews are both welcome.
--
Belleza, Fourth Admiral of the Valuan Imperial Armada, swayed and undulated her body to the Nasrean music, the gauzy purple silk veils hanging from her arms fluttering slightly in the hot air. She smiled and tipped a wink to the sailor sitting at one of the low tables in the tavern before turning away teasingly and resuming her dance.
She moved languidly, letting her movement against the air cool her skin without exerting herself too much in the heat. Her smile broadened slightly. There certainly is enough skin out in the open to cool, she thought. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail so that it swayed away from her neck and back, and her outfit consisted of a veil resting over her mouth, a gauzy, billowy pair of violet pants and an opaque violet sash looped around her neck, over her chest and tied behind her back.
Not that this was the typical sort of thing an Admiral of the Armada did. She was also the commander of the Armada's Imperial Intelligence and Special Operations Command branch, and was currently dancing in this tavern in the Nasrean village of Maramba for a mission. Currently she was 'Bellena', a Nasrean dancing girl, and had become the main attraction of this sleepy village. Her teeth flashed in a brief grin as she spun and swayed her arms. Whatever I do, I like to do it well.
She was happy for more than one reason. One of her operatives down at the dock had reported that the pirate fishing boat had dropped off the pirates that had escaped from the Grand Fortress, before departing on bad terms. Now they were slowly making their way through Maramba asking around for ship owners. That Silvite girl, Fina, must have them helping her look for the Red Moon Crystal. The beginning threads of a plan were already knitting in her mind, and that would be enough to start with. Setting up an elaborate plan merely left you flat-footed when something went awry. Better to have a basic groundwork and improvise from there.
She let her mind drift as she spun, the light of the tavern gleaming against her flat stomach and the curve of her back. Inevitably her thoughts went back to the problem that had worried at her before she left Valua for Nasr. The Armada now had a Sixth Admiral, Lord Galcian's former Vice Captain Ramirez, since Fina's audience with the Empress. But the young man, who had been onboard the Serpent when it left Valua on the cruise that had ended up heading to Windmill Island, had been missing when it returned with Fina and the Air Pirate Dyne and his crew. And in the meantime, a force of Lord Galcian's personal ships had taken up station in Mid Ocean where a point of mysterious light was being spotted by passing ships.
What is my lord up to? she wondered, and felt a familiar mix of pleasure and melancholy at the thought of Galcian. He and Ramirez are usually quite close, planning something or other. And for a newly minted Admiral to still be missing after being endowed with his rank... The only prolonged disappearances of Admirals that she knew of were either when they were sent to oversee operations in Ixa'taka, or if they were on special operations. Special operations...
She brought herself back to alertness abruptly when three figures walked into the tavern. Two of them were girls, teenagers. One was recognizable as the elusive Fina, with the distinctive white Silvite outfit. The other matched reports of eyewitnesses from the Colosseum when Dyne and his crew were rescued, with two absurd red braids sticking out from either side of her head and a brief outfit of tanned leather with a blue belt. As for the third one, the male...
Well, well. Isn't he... handsome.
--
Vanilla squinted as he walked his Earl Grey II through the gate into the Sabbia Desert and forward along the line of cargo-carrying Trotmobiles in Delsen's caravan. It wasn't so much the brightness of the sun, but the way the heat created a tremendous shimmering effect in addition to all the sand hanging in the air from endless winds. It created an intimidating sight for a person setting out to cross that expanse.
Delsen looked over as the Earl Grey II and Corvus walked up beside the lead Trotmobile. "It's just the Sabbia Desert from here on out," he called over the moaning of wind. "It's pretty vast, so you shouldn't just wander around blindly. Stay close if at all possible. If you get too far out, I'll shoot flares so you can find us.
"Be as careful as possible," he stressed, looking at Vanilla, Connie and Ramirez in turn. "If you run low on gas, talk to the man in the rear Trotmobile. Thieves have become very aggressive lately... I believe they're called the Desert Hornets. Whoever they are, we need your protection to get through."
The caravan started walking forward, and Vanilla started moving forward with them after moving his goggles over his eyes to protect them from sand. He felt sweat breaking out and soaking into his shirt underneath his blue leather vest. Next to him, Connie already had the desert garb Ramirez had given to her on.
Vanilla frowned slightly. Ramirez acts differently around Connie. I wonder why. He shrugged his shoulders. Later. I've got to watch out for bandits.
Corvus walked up next to the Earl Grey II and paced alongside it. Ramirez looked comfortable enough in his enclosed cockpit, though he was still sweating from the heat. He called over, "Vanilla, I've been meaning to ask you. What was it that you went to see Dr. Nutmeg for?"
Vanilla looked back at him, surprised, and Connie looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Hm?" Vanilla looked at her, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked over at Ramirez, and called, "I was seeing him because I'm having trouble with my memory. Connie found me unconscious on Seagull Beach, and when I woke up I had amnesia."
Ramirez frowned slightly on his otherwise immobile face - Vanilla wondered why he was so serious all the time. "Amnesia?" Ramirez asked.
"You don't know what amnesia is?" Connie asked, surprised. Vanilla smiled. He does seem to have a lot of questions about stuff. He must've been really isolated.
Between them, he and Connie explained what it was the best they could. Ramirez nodded slowly when he got the general concept. "Perhaps you're a Trotmobile gladiator," he suggested.
"Could be," Vanilla replied, smiling. "Dr. Nutmeg isn't sure when my memory is going to come back, so--"
They had just topped another sand dune when Delsen suddenly exclaimed, "It's... The Desert Hornets are coming!"
The three of them looked over in unison. Vanilla spotted the group of dark shapes rushing towards them, kicking up a trail of dust behind them. "Let's go!" Vanilla called, then kicked in his thrusters and headed for the group as quickly as he could. The further out we meet them, the less damage they can do to the caravan, ran through his mind.
A glint of light off of something metallic caught his eye, and Vanilla looked down to see a sun-blasted section of a Trotmobile embedded in the sand as he hurried by. He blinked for a moment, startled, then narrowed his eyes behind his goggles. That won't happen to me.
The Trotmobiles that were running up with astonishing speed were sand-colored with long bird-like legs with a gatling cannon in the nose of their body frames. One of them unleashed a volley of gatling fire at him as he approached, and he jinked the Earl Grey to the side. Vanilla gritted his teeth as he and one of the Desert Hornet Trots came straight at each other, then bent over and picked it up in one smooth motion. He threw the Trotmobile back down the sand dune and watched it skid downward a ways as it landed.
The Desert Hornet Trot quickly picked itself up as the others hesitated, staying nearby as Vanilla battled with one of their own. As he watched, Ramirez's Corvus topped the dune and landed a slash with its sword against one of the other Desert Hornet Trots, which started to bring it's gatling to bear on him.
He turned his attention back to the Trot in front of him, jinked aside as another burst of gatling was unleashed towards him. He fired his cannon and then kicked in his thrusters, following just on the heels of his cannon shell as it connected with the enemy Trot. He picked up the Desert Hornet again and threw it, watched it explode and the two bandits inside roll on the ground as they jumped from their doomed Trotmobile.
He turned to see two more bandits running and skidding down the sand dune and hopping up onto another Desert Hornet Trotmobile as the rest of the group began running off into the distance. Vanilla breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a flare burst overhead. He started towards it's source, and watched Ramirez's Corvus do the same.
Vanilla topped another dune and stopped for a moment, surprised; he heard Connie gasp beside him. Ahead was a patch of greenery on a rise, fringed with palm trees. Even through the driving wind blowing sand before it, he could take in the scent of plants and water.
"We'll make camp here," Delsen said as they stopped near the gate to what a sign declared was the Kharija Oasis. "We roll out in the morning, so everybody meet back then!" He and his men dismounted from their Trotmobiles and camels, and quickly made their way up the rise into the oasis. Vanilla and Ramirez followed along, parking their Trots and descending.
So far so good.
--
Ramirez glared around at the dusty ground away from the edge of the oasis - it was easier than glaring up at the sun itself, which was the real reason for his bad mood. Moons above, I hate the desert, he thought for about the hundredth time.
Vanilla and Connie were heading over to speak with Delsen and his men, who were relaxing on straw mats set around a campfire. The smell of cooking food was already filling the air. He watched them walk moodily, then started walking along the edge of the oasis in the opposite direction, deep in thought. What's wrong with me? Usually I never feel anything... He felt anger rise, hotter for the fact that didn't know why he was angry in the first place.
Ramirez looked up and stopped as he saw a small hut with a dock around it; a small boy was sitting at the end of the small pier, legs dangling over the edge. He waved as he saw the stranger approach, and Ramirez hesitated a moment before approaching him.
"Hey, Mister," he said, looking up at him from where he sat. "You came from the desert, yeah?" Ramirez nodded silently, and the boy went on, "Grandpa told me when I get older, I should cross the desert and see the world. What's it like on the other side of the desert?"
He looked down at the boy coldly. "There are bandits everywhere, and people live in misery and sorrow," he said flatly.
"Bandits!?" the boy exclaimed. "Yikes!"
Ramirez turned on his heel and looked at the hut a moment before walking inside. It was cramped inside, with threadbare rugs lying on the floor and hanging against the back wall. There was a single wooden pallet with a carpet laying atop it, with a cylinder-shaped leather pillow. Sitting cross legged on a bench at the back of the hut was a man who looked positively ancient, with a long white beard and bushy eyebrows, and wore an outift of loose yellow shirt and pants. He had his right hand propped up on a wooden staff.
"Hello, young man," he said as his eyes focused on Ramirez. "Are you a caravan merchant? Or an escort rider? No matter how advanced technology becomes, mankind will always be helpless against the might of the desert." The eyes became disconcertingly shrewd as he asked, "What do you think?"
Ramirez eyed him levelly, inwardly annoyed. "I couldn't care less," he replied, expression stony.
"I see," the old man replied. "Ignoring my brothers' pleas to stay, I left my village decades ago and moved here. I've been living here ever since, under the enchantment of the desert's beauty." Ramirez raised a skeptical eyebrow - he saw nothing beautiful about the desert.
The old man seemed to misinterpret it, and continued, "My brothers? Oh, most likely, they've all passed away. It's been a long time since I last saw them."
Ramirez turned around and walked out of the hut without another word. "The last thing I need is to hear some senile old man babble on about his brothers and the..." He swallowed a few choice words, "...the desert."
He walked back to the other side of the oasis, green eyes narrowed in anger. His head started to rise to give the dusty ground another dose of glaring, but stopped dead when he saw the sight ahead of him.
Vanilla and Connie were apparently getting ready to go for a swim in the oasis, and had changed into their swimsuits. Vanilla had on his blue denim swimming trunks and a pendant with a large red gem, more noticeable now that they were the only things he wore. He had a skinny build, with thin arms and legs with large hands and feet, though his torso itself seemed to have some light muscle on it. It was quite plain he was no fighter of his hands, with his thin forearms. Ramirez's own were quite developed, and he had a callus along the ring of his thumb and pointer finger - a swordsman's callus.
But it was Connie that truly drew his attention. She still wore her bracelets on his right wrist, but had shed all her other clothing except for a pink and white bikini, a red sarong-like sash worn over the swimsuit's bottom. He could see how well-developed her figure was, the hourglass shape of her sides as they curved inward to her stomach and then widened again over her hips, and down to her thighs...
"We're going swimming! Want to come?" Connie called, waving. Ramirez tore his eyes away, his heart beating faster and his breath a bit short. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. "No... I don't have a swimsuit," he answered.
Connie waved her acknowledgement, and the two of them jumped into the oasis. They both surfaced, and Connie was laughing as she brushed her wet ponytail away from her neck. She splashed a bit of water at Vanilla, and he put an arm to defend his face, then quickly started striking out for the center of the oasis. Connie swam after him, the sun shining on her slick skin, the wet sash molding itself to her.
Ramirez found himself staring, and noticed a couple of Delsen's men watching him and trying to make it look like they weren't. He scowled and turned away from the oasis, heading over to the campfire. He hated being so transparent. But, his eyes kept looking over...
--
Vanilla stretched after he got up from his straw mat, his muscles still loose from the swim and feeling pleasantly full after a supper of desert bread. It was dark and starting to cool down, though the temperature remained warm. It was much more comfortable than the blistering heat of the daylight.
He wandered away from the campfire a ways and sat at the edge of the oasis, letting his legs hang over the edge. "A lot's going on..." he said quietly to himself. "Connie needs to get somewhere called Happy Garland, and... I just can't stop thinking about her for some reason." Vanilla sighed looked at the moonlit waters of the oasis. He'd had a lot of run swimming in the oasis with Connie, but seeing her in that swimsuit... it had made him nervous for some reason.
"Can't sleep either, huh?"
He looked up to see Connie walk over to him from the campfire, dressed in her desert garb. Hey, there's Connie!, ran through his mind as he stared over at her.
Connie sat next to him and let her legs dangle over the side, propping her hands on her lap and looking up at the stars. "The group is probably mad at me..." she said. "We have a concert coming up, and I just took off without warning. But, if we can make it to Happy Garland tomorrow, I think it'll be okay."
She suddenly looked over at him and said, "Hey, I was thinking... Could I maybe ask you questions about yourself?" Vanilla looked back at her, and she continued, "...It might jog your memory."
"Sure," he replied, nodding. "Ask me anything."
"Well, okay," Connie began uncertainly. "What kind of food do you like?"
Vanilla looked away and frowned slightly in thought, then grinned and replied in a sing-song voice, "I like fishes cause they're so delicious..."
Connie giggled a bit, startled, and Vanilla coninued, "Grilled is the best."
Connie considered it a moment. "...Maybe you lived by the ocean before you lost your memory." Uncertainly, "So, did that help you remember anything?"
"I remembered food I like," Vanilla replied optimistically.
"Hmm... Maybe if I ask you something else?"
Vanilla looked back at her and said, "I want to know more about you."
"Huh?" Connie blinked, confused. She continued in a small, uncertain voice, "Okay, what would you like to know?"
"Are there any... boys you like?"
"What!?" Connie replied, startled, and looked back at the oasis. "That's-- Well..."
She smiled, looked back, said, "It's a secret," and chuckled.
Her eyes trailed down and lit upon the pendant hanging around his neck. "...That's the pendant! I know I've seen it before." Vanilla looked down at it as she continued, "That's the one Mallow used to wear!" She looked at him inquiringly. "...Where'd you get that?"
"Dunno..." Vanilla replied, looking back at her. "Never really gave it much thought."
"I see..." she said softly, still watching his face.
"Mallow..." Vanilla said thoughtfully.
"He's the son of a well-known doctor," Connie replied. "You could say he was a friend of ours." She frowned. "...He picked on Dandelion and Chicory a lot, though."
"Who's Dandelion?"
"He used to lead the Garland Globetrotters, actually. Now he owns an instrument workshop near Happy Garland."
"Who's Chicory?"
Connie looked down at her hands resting on her lap. "He... He's Dandelion's younger brother, and..." She paused, staring at her hands, then finished, "...He's a friend." She looked back up at the stars. "I heard that Mallow went to study abroad. Nobody's heard from him since..."
She looked back at Vanilla, forcing a smile onto her face. "...Let's not talk about that." He face suddenly brightened as she asked, "Hey, did you get a chance to practice that song I gave you? You play, and I'll sing, okay? It'll be fun."
Vanilla smiled and nodded as he pulled his harmonica out of his pocket. He brought it up to his mouth and started playing as Connie sang, swaying slightly with her eyes closed:
"When you're sad and blue,
Look into the blue sky
And your blueness might be soaked into the sky.
When you feel like nobody,
Just look at the stars
And remember they are twinkling for you.
In your eyes I see a pond of trouble,
You've been hiding from us all the time.
But you can't keep it all in forever
Can't you see we are all right here for you.
Now let me tell you one thing
We're all right here for you and only you.
We will always sing for you
So why not sing along with us?
Let go of all your troubles
Be free of your mind and let it go.
It's funny how things turn around
Just by singing out loud."
"That was perfect!" Connie said as Vanilla slid the harmonica back into his pocket. "You'd fit right in with the Garland Globetrotters, you know." She yawned suddenly, said, "It's getting late. I think I'm going to go to sleep." She watched Vanilla a moment before softly saying, "Good night."
--
Some time later, Ramirez lay on his mat facing away from the fire, staring at the foliage that marked the edge of the rise the oasis sat on. The song still rang through his mind... as well as the conversation before it. He'd tried to sleep but had heard their voices.
He rolled onto his back and looked up at the moon. It was a yellowish-white, almost like a cross between the Silver and Yellow Moons. But for some reason, it doesn't rain Moon Stones. That much he had become sure of. Whatever this land was, it definitely wasn't Arcadia. Instead of an easily accessible power source that was able to be picked up from the ground after raining down from the sky, the people here needed to toil and drill and mine to reach deposits of oil and coal to power their machines and vehicles.
Ramirez rolled to his other side, and his gaze fell upon Connie asleep on her mat. He let air sigh through his nose. The words from the song she had sung...
...In your eyes I see a pond of trouble,
You've been hiding from us all the time...
...Rang with altogether too much truth.
Connie started to squirm in her sleep, face screwed up in discomfort. "Ugh... Chicory... I'm sorry... Forgive me... Dandelion..."
Ramirez blinked and rose up on one elbow. She must be having a nightmare... He watched her, taking in her beauty, but also sensing... A bond, almost. She's had some pain, some tragedy, in her past... He recognized the signs from his own experience; he had withdrawn into himself, suppressing his emotions and becoming the deadly right-hand man for Lord Galcian.
Connie seemed to have gone the opposite direction, forcing herself to maintain a natural friendliness and cheer, finding an outlet in her music as lead singer of the Garland Globetrotters. There was no mistaking that she was a good singer...
...Just as I'm good with the sword, he thought, and lay back down. Connie... What happened to you? What happened with Chicory and Dandelion?
--
"Eeeyaaaahhhh!"
"What the--!?"
Ramirez awoke to see running feet that stopped and turned accompanied by an evil laugh. "If you want the girl back, she'll be at our stronghold." He rolled to his feet as he recognized the outfit the man wore as one of the uniforms worn by the Desert Hornet bandits back in the desert. Vanilla was already standing with his fists clenched. Ramirez dove for his paper-wrapped sword and tore it open savagely, but by the time he looked up he could see the Desert Hornet already making his escape.
One of Delsen's men started to run after them, then turned back as he saw the bandit's Trotmobile run off into the desert. "Oh no!" he exclaimed in a heavily accented voice. "Whatdowedo? Whatdowedo!?" He took in the sight of Vanilla on his feet, and watched as Ramirez wrapped his swordbelt around his waist over the suit jacket. "Those thieves are terrifying! Are you actually going after her!?"
"Yes, we are," Ramirez ground out in fury. Next to him, Vanilla nodded vigorously in agreement, said, "Of course we're going."
"Ooh! How incredibly brave!" Delsen's man exclaimed. "I'll... show you the way," he continued hesitantly. "I've done business at their hideout before." He turned and ran out to the caravan with Vanilla and Ramirez at his heels.
"Let's go in your Trotmobile, Vanilla," Ramirez said. When Vanilla looked over questioningly, he continued, "You're a good Trotmobile pilot, while I'm... more of a man of my hands." His hand moved to rest on the hilt of his sword. Vanilla blinked, then nodded decisively just before they made it to the Earl Grey II and climbed into the cockpit.
Delsen's man was already on one of the camels as the Trotmobile walked down the incline of the oasis. "Okay! Just follow me..." he said to them, and whipped his camel into motion with a riding crop.
Vanilla sent the Earl Grey II after him with grim intensity. Ramirez nodded as he looked at him, then back forward. Chasing bandits and making them pay. Now this is familiar, he thought with a grim smile.
--
Delsen's man reined in his camel as the Earl Grey II stopped behind him, the three of them looking up at the wall of sharpened logs between two stone towers that reared up before them.
"Okay, we're here," Delsen's man whispered. "This is the stronghold." He rode forward to the gate and called up a password to the guard. It slid open and he rode through with the Trotmobile following. Ramirez kept his eyes busy as they went, looking for ambushes. "Follow me..." They continued up a series of ramps that led past lines of Desert Hornet Trotmobiles and camels tied up to hitching posts. The stronghold was quiet, with hardly any bandits to be seen.
"Something's wrong," Ramirez muttered, looking around.
"What do you mean?" Vanilla asked.
"They kidnapped Connie and told us where to find her... I'd think they'd be waiting with an ambush."
"Well, the guy from the caravan said he's done business here before, and it's the middle of the night. Maybe they don't expect us to show up until morning."
Ramirez started to denounce that as a stupid way of looking at it, then remembered some of the Black Pirate bands he'd helped crush in the past. He remembered one group that had boarded a Valuan trading ship and drunk themselves senseless on loqua. They had still been there when an Armada squadron had showed up less than an hour later, and they'd seemed genuinely surprised when cannon fire had sunk their pirate ship and Valuan soldiers captured them.
You can not go far wrong underestimating the stupidity of your average bandit, he thought. He remained silent as Vanilla parked the Earl Grey, and climbed down to see Delsen's man waiting for them. "I'll go on ahead," he told them. "Make sure that nobody sees you, okay?" With that, he hurried up a ramp and into the inner keep of the Desert Hornet stronghold.
He and Vanilla exchanged a look. "So... which one of us should go?" Vanilla asked.
Ramirez looked up at the inner keep, then back at the Earl Grey II. "I'll go," he said decisively. "You keep the Trotmobile warmed up."
Vanilla opened his mouth to argue, then looked down at the sword and how expertly Ramirez held it's hilt, then nodded reluctantly. "I'll be waiting."
Ramirez nodded to him, then hurried up the ramp and opened the door silently, slid inside and shut it behind him carefully. His eyes scanned his surroundings, taking in the gaslights on the walls, as well as the crates, barrels and chests. He started forward, then stopped as he heard footsteps coming down stairs. He stepped to the side quickly and ducked behind one of the crates as a Desert Hornet came down the stairs.
The bandit walked over to look at a chest against the far wall, then moved to the room's only window and looked out of it, arms folded. Suddenly, he turned his head towards the crates and said, "What was that noise?"
Ramirez narrowed his eyes, then exploded upward and jumped onto a crate, using it to propel himself toward the Desert Hornet. The bandit barely had time to unfold his arms and take a surprised step back before the Silvite's sword was out of it's sheath and drawing across his throat in a silver blur. He gave a brief choked, gargling sound as he sagged to the floor, then abruptly fell silent as the sword flashed down again into his head.
Ramirez wiped his sword clean on the dead bandit's shirt, then quickly moved forward to the bottom of the stairs and took them two at a time silently as he ascended. He stopped at the top as he saw two more Desert Hornets sitting on crates with a game board between them, both with their arms folded and heads down, asleep. He stepped slowly and quietly past them through a narrow space between piles of crates, unwilling to make too much noise trying to kill both bandits before one of them woke up and shouted an alarm. He reached a small set of stairs at the end of the space and climbed up them into another room--
"You got a lot of guts, trying to sneak in here," a rough female voice said, and Ramirez turned quickly to see a woman dressed in a Desert Hornet's uniform, with the exception that her face was exposed and her shirt was purple. There were a group of Desert Hornets around her, one of them pointing a knife at Connie, who was tied up and sitting on the floor. "Drop the sword. Now," the woman commanded, eyes hard.
Ramirez's eyes flicked to Connie, to the dagger, then to all the bandits in the room. He clenched his jaw. Damn. Too many of them to take down before one of them could hurt Connie... He slowly set his sword on the floor, his green eyes hooded and blazing hatred as he glared at the Desert Hornet woman.
Two bandits hurried forward and tied his wrists together behind his back, then looped more rope around his arms. They marched him forward to the woman, then shoved him down to his knees in front of her. She was dark-skinned with startlingly blue eyes, attractive with an athletic build. "You're not the one we were waiting for," she said. "Where's Mallow?"
"Mallow?" Ramirez glanced quickly over at Connie, and she looked as confused as he felt. "I don't know anyone named--"
"Here he is, boss."
Ramirez heard footsteps walking across the room behind him, then looked over as a tied up Vanilla was shoved to his knees next to him.
The Desert Hornet boss looked Vanilla over. "I will admit, you aren't at all what I imagined you'd be..." She smirked. "There's someone here who would like to meet you, Mallow." When Vanilla looked confused, she continued, "That's right, we saw the pendant! There's no use in hiding."
"No!" Vanilla protested. "I'm not Mallow!"
"It's a little late to start lying now, you fool," the boss said disdainfully.
"Wait! That isn't Mallow!" Connie said from off to the side.
The boss looked over distractedly, as if reminded of her presence. "Eh?"
The bandit standing guard over her pointed a finger in Connie's face, growling, "Shut up, you!"
The boss sighed, saying, "Why did you bring her in? I didn't order that." She blinked as she took a closer look at Connie, then turned to her and asked, "Aren't you Coriander, from the Garland Globetrotters?"
"He's lost his memory!" Connie said desperately. "He doesn't know anything about the pendant..."
"So you're saying that proves he's not Mallow?" the Desert Hornet boss asked.
"...Yes."
"Yeah, I didn't think he was either," she replied.
"But Boss!" the bandit standing over Connie protested.
"It's Coriander, you idiot. Why would she want to protect Mallow?" the Boss said. "And just look at the guy. There's no way he's Mallow. Untie them."
The bandits hurried forward and untied the three of them, then let them stand. "Uh... Thank you very much," Connie said.
"We're the ones that should apologize," the Boss replied. "I had no idea we'd kidnapped the lead singer of the Garland Globetrotters."
Connie brought her hands up protestingly and shook her head, saying, "Oh, I'm nobody special..." Ramirez glanced over at her; she sounded as if she believed it...
"Hey!" the Desert Hornet Boss said suddenly. "Since you're here, why don't you sing a song for us? We ruffians need to feel civilized every once in a while. There aren't any instruments, but... is that okay...?"
"Sure, that's fine," Connie replied with a nod.
--
Connie stood at the top of the ramp leading to the door of the inner keep, looking out over the crowd of Desert Hornets sitting cross legged down along it. The Desert Hornet Boss, Nora, stood off to one side with her arms folded, also watching. Vanilla and Ramirez were off to the side, the latter holding a hand on the hilt of his returned sword. Connie closed her eyes and started to sway slightly, singing:
"Where do I fit in the picture of your world?
When you're soaring so high
And I am left alone
Here on the ground,
I can't
even see you anymore.
So high up there,
Like a bird,
I wish I could fly to you,
But where are my wings?
You took them away from me
Never to
Give them back to me.
You stole them from my back;
You ripped them off.
The scars will be right there,
And I'll never be able
To fly right to you.
Only 'cause I can't,
And it is you
Who made it
Impossible."
There was applause after she finished as Nora, Vanilla and Ramirez walked forward to talk to her. "That was beautiful..." Nora said, her rough voice filled with emotion. "Just... Just give me a moment..." When she composed herself, she continued, "You're free to go now, but there is one last thing. Our people have been thieves for several generations. If we see you in the desert, it's all business, if you understand me." Her eyes took on a steely tone, then lightened as he continued. "But, once you walk through those gates, you're our guest. That's for the song."
"And you, not Mallow," she said, turning to Vanilla.
"Vanilla," he replied, placing a hand to his chest and bowing slightly.
Nora turned away from him to Ramirez, her expression stony. "And as for you," she said, her blue eyes glaring at him.
Ramirez glared back, clenching a hand on his sword. "Ramirez."
"You killed one of my men, Ramirez," Nora said, clenching a fist. Then she looked back at Connie, and sighed. "But... I guess you were doing what you thought was best." She looked back at Ramirez, glaring again. "They may be our guests, but you're not. Never come back to this stronghold, do you understand me?"
Ramirez eyed Nora consideringly. After a moment, he nodded and Nora returned it, the two of them exchanging a look of understanding. She's rather formidable, he thought. A leader of men and a warrior.
Nora turned to a figure standing off to the side. "You!" she called.
"Yes--" Delsen's man coughed, then continued in a rougher voice. "Yes, Boss!"
"Oh, you're Delsen's assistant..." Connie said, pointing at him.
"Sorry," the man replied.
"He's also a Desert Hornet," Nora said to her, then looked back at the undercover bandit. "Our guests are leaving. Take them back to the oasis."
"Yes."
Nora walked back inside the keep as the Desert Hornets scattered back to their various tasks, or back to bed. The undercover bandit headed back down the ramp to his camel.
Connie turned to them, looking tired. "Let's get out of here," she said.
--
The Earl Grey II stepped out through the Desert Hornet stronghold's gate and stopped as it closed behind it. Connie sighed as soon as it was, and said, "I was really worried back there."
Vanilla looked over at her. "Why are people out to get this Mallow guy?"
"I don't know," Connie replied. "Most people didn't really like him much." She forced some cheer into her voice as he continued, changing the subject. "We should get back to the oasis, huh?"
The undercover bandit and Ramirez were on camels ahead of them, Connie having taken up the second seat in the cockpit. The camels moaned as they were brought into a gallop, and Vanilla piloted the Earl Grey after them.
There's something wrong with this whole situation, Vanilla thought, and glanced down at his pendant briefly. Connie knows something about Mallow, but she doesn't want to talk about it...
The ride passed in an uncomfortable silence, Connie caught up in her own thoughts while Vanilla tried to think of a good way to get more information about Mallow. Vanilla braked his Trotmobile abruptly as sand started stirring over a large area of desert ahead of them. A light at the end of a metal pipe started rising from the sand, and Connie exclaimed, "What's that?"
Vanilla hurried the Earl Grey II forward as a metal tower with smokestacks followed the light out of the sand, then yelped as a large deck at the bottom of the tower rose up underneath his Trot's feet. Holy--!? This thing is huge!
He kicked his thrusters in and sped over to the tower, ramming into it. The tower dented with a metal screech, and Vanilla started unleashing cannon shots into it with his right arm frame. It pitted and scorched the surface of the blue-painted metal towers, occasionally punching a hole through. As the damage started to mount, the tower sank slowly back into the sand, leaving the Earl Grey II standing in the desert with no sign it had ever been there.
"...I guess it was bandits," Connie commented.
"Yeah..." Vanilla said, but he wasn't entirely convinced. He seen bandits operating some large Trotmobiles and machines, but that was a whole other scale...
They eventually reached the oasis to find the bandit and Ramirez waiting for them. "I must be going," the bandit said.
"You're not coming with us to Happy Garland?" Connie asked.
"My time here is over," the bandit replied. "I must return to the stronghold. Can you please inform Delsen, when he awakens? Tell him I said thank you, and that I won't forget his kindness." He smiled, and briefly went back to the heavily accented voice he'd used undercover. "I wish you much good luck." He turned his camel and galloped back across the desert towards the Desert Hornet stronghold.
"Thank you coming to rescue me..." Connie said as Ramirez walked over. "Both of you. Let's rest up for tomorrow."
--
The next morning, the Earl Grey and Corvus walked down to the fully manned caravan. "Good morning, all!" Delsen called out. "Anyone seen my assistant? I haven't seen him all morning. Have you heard anything?"
Vanilla looked over at Ramirez, who shrugged as if to say, Your choice.
Vanilla looked back at Delsen and replied, "He told us to thank you, and that he wouldn't forget your kindness. Then he rode out into the desert, alone."
"He did...? Hm..." Delsen frowned as he considered that. "I suppose he had his reasons. ...He was always such a thoughtful man, though." He seemed to shrug it off, and called out, "Alright! Off we go!"
The caravan made it's way out into the desert on the final leg of the trip to Alcazar de Condor. Sure enough, as Nora had said the night before, more Desert Hornet Trotmobiles attacked the caravan along the way, and it became a running fight all the way to the canyon that led to the wall and gate protecting Alcazar de Condor from the Sabbia Desert and it's inhabitants. Vanilla and Ramirez again met them as far away from the caravan as possible. After the long battle, they finally reached the gate.
"...And here we are," Delsen said. "Let's head inside. We'll be able to talk after that." The gate slid up and the caravan's Trotmobiles trooped inside, the Earl Grey and Corvus taking up the rear.
When they got inside, Delsen descended from his Trotmobile and looked up at them as the two Trotmobiles approached. "Ah, here we are at last! You two have done a good job." He pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil as he continued, "I'll cut to the chase and start calculating your reward. We decided on 100 UR per Trotmobile, yes? I'll have to subtract damage, of course."
He started scribbling on the paper, glancing over at the Trots of his caravan every so often. "Let's see... no damage there... none there... uh huh... and that brings the total to... 600 UR. Here you go." He handed a jingling sack up to Vanilla. "I never would have imagined we'd get through without any damage," he continued, looking surprised. "I'd like to hire you again, if possible. Please stay in touch."
Vanilla grinned as he walked his Trot away from Delsen and deeper into the empty space within the steel-reinforced stone walls of Alcazar de Condor. "600 UR, not bad for two days' work." He looked over at Ramirez and started to dig into the bag of money. "Here, 300 of it is yours."
Ramirez brought a hand up and shook his head. "No, I still have plenty myself. You hold onto it."
Vanilla blinked in surprise. "Really!? You sure? Okay..."
Connie smiled at them. "Come on! Happy Garland is just ahead!"
--
Belleza watched with her arms folded and a slight smile on her face as the Little Jack floated upward from the desert floor, ignoring the rush of wind and sand that blew around her. Soon it reached far enough above the sand dunes and the four wings on the hull sent the little ship zooming out across the sands of Nasr.
She sighed as he let her arms fall to her sides, her smile fading slightly as she looked back to where Recumen, the Red Gigas, had reburied itself at her command. "Well played, handsome..." she murmured to herself, then turned and started walking back towards her temporarily grounded flagship, the Lynx.
Fortunately she had contingencies for every eventuality, and a squadron of Valuan ships were already en route to salvage the Lynx and pick up her and her crew. Not that I expected that rusty-armed old man to actually take my engine, she thought wryly. They'd been extremely thorough in stripping her flagship of everything useful, including her Magic Cannon. "They just might prove to be a real nuisance to the Armada."
She waved as soon as she came within sight of her red armored Vice Captain, showing that she was alright after her talk with the Air Pirates. The Vice Captain waved back, then turned to get the crew moving to prep the Lynx for a tow back to Valua. Belleza shook her head. She'd never understood Admirals that mistreated their crews and spent their lives needlessly. Soldiers and sailors, like any asset, needed to be well maintained. That, and I'll never willingly inflict on any of their families what happened to me, she thought, her smile disappearing.
She continued walking along, then frowned slightly as a thought came to mind. Special operations... Ramirez... The point of light in Mid Ocean was still bothering her. Perhaps that's where young Ramirez has gone? Is he overseeing that anomaly in Mid Ocean? Why would Lord Galcian have an Admiral oversee a new Discovery? Discoveries were usually reported to the Sailors' Guild for money on the barrel, as it were, and then left alone. This Discovery is something else... Perhaps it is time I take a look at what my lord is up to in Mid Ocean. She quirked an eyebrow as she reached the Lynx and looked up at it.
After my ship is fixed, of course.