Spring Chapter 3: Status Report
A clear and crisp morning air is always the freshest of starts to a morning, even to sailors who were most accustomed with stuff like deck-cleaning and the likes. Throw a cute girl into the fray, one might think that that's the best life can offer, which was exactly what happened when a young girl no more than the age of fourteen emerged from the bunk deck, a sparkling head of red coupled with a doe pair of eyes.
"Gentlemen, a very good morning to all of you," began the pre-pubescent, girlish voice on the deck, in full view of men at least twice her age. "It's a fresh morning isn't it, deck hands?"
"Good morning, madame." It was the least expected of responses, one might say, from these men. "Madame..."
"See, Trevor? What did I tell you? You'll freeze up just trying to call this here girl 'madame'! It ain't sound right fer no one, huh?" Whispered one of the deck hands as he scrubbed the railings clean of fingerprints.
"I see your point, Marcus. The scarier thought is having a First Warrant Officer on deck, though..."
Indeed, for many not accustomed to the unusual sight of a girl who stands no more than one-fifty centimeters, it was not too convincing for the new shiphands that their direct commander could actually handle a rifle at all. It was even less convincing for the new shiphands once they learnt that their commander is a non-commissioned officer at that age.
"I can't believe we're asked to serve in such a mockery of the so-called high-and-mighty military, Trevor," Marcus shook his head in despair. "We ain't got no future here."
"Let's wait and find out then. Stop yapping, too, you're making me irritated."
"Oh, whatever--"
"Attention," the girl called out suddenly. "You are dismissed from cleaning the deck now; I want to see your bunk cabins prim and proper in fifteen mikes!"
"Yes, madame, no problem madame!" Cried out the rest of the soldiers as they scooted off towards the stairs in a hurried, yet still orderly manner.
"Hold your foot there, new mates," ordered the girl before Trevor and Marcus could follow their seniors into the bunk deck. "I haven't seen you two newbies around. What are your names? You, the blonde one, talk first."
"Uh... I... Private First Class Marcus Wayne--"
"When you're on land, you pirate, that's the rank you get. Up here, we call you a Seaman, get it?"
"Y...yes, madame."
"And you, muscleman?"
"Corporal Trevor Duran... Sorry... Seaman First Class Trevor Duran."
"Quick on the ball," the girl smiled. "I like you somehow."
"Thank you, madame."
"Your fifteen minutes started two minutes ago, mates."
Trevor tugged Marcus' arm quickly. "Yes, we got you, madame. Move it, Marcus!"
"Uhh... goodbye, madame," blurted Marcus as he hurriedly spun around and made a run for the cabin.
"Exercising your boys again, Crim?" Spoke Kaori as she emerged from her officer's cabin on the main deck. "And as usual, giving the new hands the extra welcome."
"They seemed like they need to get used to me," replied the girl as she began to tie her long, flowing hair into a smooth ponytail. "There's always the matter of age and progression around here."
"Glad you recognise that, Crim. Anyway, we've finalised the battle plans for tonight, but I think the other warrant officers might have a point or two to protest yet again. We're meeting on the next hour."
"You mean Uncle Chuck and Uncle Perry?"
"Nobody else that I know of," chuckled Kaori. "Seriously, Crim, you're your father's pride. You can go really far, but there is the matter of the minimum age requirement for officer school, you know."
"I'm happy remaining as a non-commissioned officer, Kaori. You know how the Marines pride themselves in over-protecting their sources of intelligence, and I didn't think I want any of that."
Kaori tilted her head left and right. "Luckily there is nobody else on the deck."
"I heard that," laughed Akitsuki as he too came out from his officer's cabin, adjacent to Kaori's own. "I'm going to court martial you for disrespecting your superiors, you know."
"Aww, come on, Aki, I know you're joking," whined Crim in a teasing manner. "I'm just a harmless little fourteen-year-old, you know."
Akitsuki rolled his eyes around in mock disbelief.
"Fine, fine. Let this man a little joke when he's the one responsible to draw up today's battle plans, ya know."
"Ha, and I didn't do any of the planning, then?" Growled Kaori, her voice a mix of tease and grumbles.
"Very little of it, as far as I know," winked Akitsuki, ducking a mock-punch from Kaori.
"...Oh, look at the time," blurted Crim. "I gotta check out on me pirates before we all go Land Ahoy!"
"Run along, girl," grinned Akitsuki. "So, have you called ol' Macdonald and Chuck the Cap-Man?"
"Perry and Chuck? I told them about it already."
Akitsuki peered into his handheld device, a high-tech tool fashioned into the shape of an oval mobile phone for the sake of ergonomics. "I sure hope that this ship has enough resources to at least destroy, if not secure the factory."
"It's going to be a bit tight on the budget, then." Kaori spoke, before slapping her head in a sudden jolt of memory.
"Oh, did you manage to--"
"I already did, don't worry. Flower-boy's new prototype assault rifle just came in from the labs. It's in my locker now, and it's all yours later, alright? I heard from the lads that it packs enough power to blow a cow away."
"How disgusting a description. Couldn't you have made it sound better?"
"Oh, that sounded disgusting? How about a wild boar then?"
"Oodama Aki--!"
What came of that cry was a loud thud to the main deck.
***
"...Lena... Kotsworth, you say... that's your name, young lady?"
Madame Freya Tussa, a woman with an apparent taste for pretty, expensive frocks that complement her middle-aged beauty, sized up Lena's relatively medium frame - at one sixty-five, a girl from downtown could really be considered taller than the general population - and her rather dirtied features, something which the mage did not bother to correct because she didn't have enough time. You could forgive Lena for feeling lucky, since the shorter Madame Tussa picked her out of so many other girls who seemed more qualified than herself, and certainly any one of the other girls must've been prettier.
"Well, down here at my workplace, you gotta show me that you can be a maid, Lena. Mind you, we're not a lodge or pub or anything else, we hire people like you for the sake of the work. It's not a joke, girls."
"What about me, Madame?" Cried another young lady from behind, one that Lena decided had much more refined demeanor than her uncouth self with her silky-smooth skin, and hands that visually gave Lena the impression of a pampered lady.
"You, lady, are out! Don't think for a second I didn't knew you were one of them East Berksley ladies who think they can laze off here! Begone!"
The girl became very annoyed at the raven-haired woman, proceeding to stomp her way out while being stared upon by many.
"Now, Miss Kotsworth..."
"Yes, madame...?"
"Show me how you work up this window," she ordered Lena, pointing her finger at a very huge plexiglass window. "Your bucket is in the corner there, and you have one minute to impress me. I don't care how you do it."
A window this big is still not a problem, decided Lena, I'd done cleaning for an entire building not too long ago. The pay was peanuts, though...
To prove her mental point, she began to prepare her entire body with mana energy, and amazed the spectacles off Madame Tussa as the lass levitated herself - bucket included - to the top of the plexiglass window. Slicing the cloth given to her in half with aforementioned powers, Lena used - but did not touch at all - the two pieces of cloth with both hands to mop up the window, as she descended from the top swiftly, stopping only to rinse the cloth of the dirt - or get the cloth to rinse itself, whichever way seemed more appropriate a descriptive. When Lena set foot on the wooden floor of Madame Tussa's residence once again, the entire plexiglass window gave off a shine as magical and magnificent as Lena herself had ever been.
"Splendid, young girl, absolutely splendid! You're hired, I say, you're hired immediately! Send this girl... what's your name again?"
"Lena... Kotsworth, madame..."
"Ah, Lena, please, follow our butler. He'll show you to the measurement room! You'll be setting off tonight on a brand new boat - amazing, wouldn't you say?"
"...certainly, madame."
"My word, I'm so amazed!" Exclaimed the Madame, almost prancing about in utter joy, as though a heavy migraine was lifted off her being in one little spell as she clasped her hands together excitedly.
"I can't even think straight now! You're just so amazing, Miss Kotsworth!"
"Thank you, madame," smiled Lena, adding in her head, "I might have overdone it a little bit."
"Ah, enough of the talk. Any more girls out here that can do better than this girl here Lena, raise your hands!"
***
All the girls were eager to cry foul - magick users have an advantage, they protest - but Madame Tussa would have none of that. Lena followed Madame Tussa's moustached butler towards another room adjacent to the Madame's main hall, which upon entrance, stank like an unused basement that had little in the way of windows for ventilation.
The lights, bright as they were coming out of lamps that gave the effect of burning flames, lit up the stairwell as it seemed to spun for an eternity. At the end of the seemingly endless stairwell was a huge array of maids' uniforms, but more importantly, a small distance away from the uniforms, a woman with a head of silver sat, as if waiting in silent for something. Rather impatient she must've been, thought Lena, given the huge irritated look that spread over the fifty-something woman's petite body and equally petite face.
"Missus Javier, this girl requires measurements," spoke the butler bluntly.
"Leave me be, butler," blasted Mrs. Javier, as she stood up to her full height - about that of Lena's own. "I'll do it now. What's your name, young girl?"
"Le... Lena Kotsworth, madame..."
"That's two "Lee" or just L-E?"
"L-E, madame. I'm sorry for stuttering. I'm a bit... tired now..."
Lena lost her footing immediately after the word "now", and was in danger of hitting her face on a nearby rack of laced maids' uniforms, had Mrs. Javier not stepped in and stretched her arm out to grab Lena by the width of her body.
"What the heck was that for, young lady," Mrs. Javier cried out. "For heaven's sake, you're... gosh, you're m-exhausted. What the devil had you been doing, lady?"
"...helping a wastrel get away without the just deserts he deserved," observed Lena of herself quite bluntly, still unable to forgive herself for letting Darren's wastrel brother get away.
"You're not making sense now, girl. Butler, you there?"
"You... spoke, Missus?"
"Who else could be speaking?! I need a bowl of hot soup now. You happen to have some in the kitchen, no?"
"But those were Madame Tussa's leftovers, Missus--"
"I don't give a shit! I need the soup now, and I mean it!"
"...be right back, Missus."
What got Mrs. Javier terrified was that Lena was not actually crying out aloud, yet was streaming tears as she entered unconsciousness. Slowly, and strangely, Mrs. Javier found herself shedding her defenses in spite of herself and being conscious of herself knowing this girl only for a few minutes, feeling a deep connection despite being total strangers. In short, Mrs. Javier felt like hugging Lena like a daughter she never was able to conceive.
"Butler, would you be faster on that soup, god damned it! You're slow, that's what you are!"
"Can't you see mah old bones are trying to be faster, you old hag?! Here you go! ...Do you want the Madame to be notified of this?"
"Not for the moment, not yet. Can't you spare a thought at all, you old fogey?"
Slowly but surely, Mrs. Javier fed the still-warm soup into Lena by the lips, holding her head softly yet firmly as the liquid contents of the soup slowly flowed into Lena's bone-thin, malnourished being.
"There you go... slowly and easy does it..."
Before long, Lena's eyelids began to flutter for a moment as she started to regain spatial awareness, albeit only half so. Lena felt her back being propped up by somebody, and was barely able to make out Mrs. Javier's face as she spoke again. For a moment, though, the young mage genuinely felt that she was somewhere back home, in her mother's arms... ten years before.
"M...mother...?" Began Lena, the whites of her eyes showing as she spoke in a half-conscious state, still unable to get a grip on reality due to her mana-exhausted state of being, but was clearly relaxed given the subdued tone of her voice compared to earlier.
That which Lena had mouthed was a mere simple word, even if it was mistakenly blurted out, but Mrs. Javier's whole being trembled upon hearing Lena call her "Mother". Mrs. Javier's trembling were not of the fearful variety, though; she hugged Lena tighter and fed her slower, just so she could savour the moment that fleeted past, even though she knew it wasn't for real.
"Missus... The Madame sends for the girl. Shall I talk to her about it--"
"No... not for now, Harold," she refused. "I shall talk to the lady."
"...This is the first time in almost eight years you addressed me personally, Tina," observed the butler solemnly as Mrs. Javier walked up the stairs of the basement.
"...None of your business. I shall have a word with the lady. Now if you'll excuse me, take care of the girl while I am away."
"Certainly... Tina."
Mrs. Javier stopped upon the end of the butler Harold's last word, then slowly turned around to glance him sideways, still on the stairwell that leads to brighter lights within the lodge.
"...Harold, I'd... prefer you address me by my surname..." she mouthed softly, as Harold took his slightly-wetted monocle off, and gave it a quick rub, his face solemn but sad. "The... hurt of yesteryears... are only beginning to heal..."
"Yes... yes, I understand... get going... Missus Javier... You have my word, I will take care of this girl until you return."
"...That'll be nice, thank you..."
***
"Ah, Mrs. Javier... What brings you up here? It's been almost four months since you last came out of the basement..." There was a heartfelt delight in the way Madame Tussa spoke, much in the way one would address a long-lost friend.
"It was warmer for winter, Madame," replied Mrs. Javier. "The girl you sent to me..."
"Why? Has she angered you? I'll send her away immediately if--"
"No, no, no... it isn't that, Madame..." Spoke Mrs. Javier slowly, as she slowly adjusted the folds on her long dress.
"...Did something happen to her?"
"Yes, she... fainted a while ago."
"How horrible. How is she now? Does she need Doctor Bernard?"
"She needs nothing else but her rest now, Madame. All I can assure to you is that she will be fit to go for the corvette."
"That's a mighty relief to hear. How about yourself?"
"...I can only say that I have somewhat regained control over my sad life, Madame."
"Don't say so, Tina... I mean..."
"Do not worry yourself so, Freya darling," reassured Mrs. Javier. "My old bones and my frail heart may be hindrances, but I am still very much myself. Now, Madame, if you will excuse me..."
"Wait, Tina, I haven't finished saying what I--"
But the door was long shut, and the frail figure long gone.
"...We're back to normal again," sighed the Madame sadly, her eyes glistened by slivers of tears. "She still wouldn't let go..."
***
The apartment that Adamu and the three kids of the Waywards lived in was not the fanciest of homes, but it would have to do. Damaged furniture scavenged from the dump was all they had, since they didn't have enough to afford for the more stable oak-based furniture, which could easily cost in the tens of thousands of mesos and are rare finds in rubbish dumps. Right now, though, Adamu was more interested in the wallet he had retrieved from Trinity Street some time ago, when he was about to settle some scores with the Sanger jocker, Darrel.
Just who the hell is Lena Kotsworth?!
"Lena Kotsworth... Lena Kotsworth... Say, Karen... Have you got any idea what kinda enemies I might have had with mages?"
"Mages, Adamu?" Snorted Karen. "Not many mages in Kerning City, ya know. Most of 'em mages are way up north in Ellinia, ya know."
"Doesn't mean a thing, stupid girl. There's a small population in town, don't you know?"
"Hey, you idiot Jason! Who gave you the right to call me stupid?"
"Stupid, stupid, stupid girl!"
"I dare you to call me that again! Hya! Hya! Hya!" The ballistic Karen launched kicks in Jason's general direction, sending him running off for cover.
"Nya nya, you can't hit me with your kicks -- OOF!"
Adamu sighed away as one of Karen's kicks finally connected with Jason's lower jaw, and very painfully, too.
"A...Adamu..." Terry spoke, ever the shy, nerdy boy with oversized glasses. "The... The Vigilante HQ's letter."
"Ah, thanks, Terry. Let's see..." Adamu sliced the letter open slowly as he watched Jason and Karen bicker and quarrel over anything and everything in the background. The pair had been jumpy ever since what happened at school, and it was nice to see them returning to normal... although how 'normal' it was for them to quarrel physically in the first place was far too subjective to cure Adamu's growing migraine.
"Mobilisation? New Island? What is this...?"
"What's that you got on ya hands, Adamu?"
"Oi, oi, wait, Karen," flailed Adamu as Karen snagged the letter away from Adamu's hands.
"'Dear Adamu Fuitami... You have been selected for a nationwide governmental mobilisation exercise of combat-capable personnel registered under the -- whatever the hell that is, skip, skip, skip... -- huh? That's a good paycheck you got here!"
"Is it? Let's see... This is a lot of money. Three quarters of a million mesos."
"Wow, that's enough to buy all of us a new handheld, dude," jabbed an excited Jason. "This dinky apartment can get a facelift, too!"
"Couldn't you think of how much effort we can save trying to get a university education, stupid boy?"
"Are you even smart enough for one of them education, you little hussy?"
"Why you--!"
The more important question in Adamu's head - why the money? Feeling a bit suspicious, he retrieved the letter from a still-bickering Karen and flipped to the back of the letter. There, the reason was clear as day.
"Attention: Owing to circumstances not under the World Government's control, there is a risk of death under various circumstances, including but not limited to, death by such hostile actions as enemy gunfire or terrorist activities. Owing to the aforementioned, all participating personnel will receive a substantial second payout if they are able to see through the length of the mobilisation, which would last anything from one to three months... No wonder the payout is so ridiculously high."
Basically speaking, it is war.
Adamu crumpled the letter by the width, and slowly pondered over the mobilisation. He could choose not to go, but he had the three kids to take care of. They weren't his children, but it was his responsibility the moment he signed the guardian papers, and lately money has been rather short. He didn't dare to tell the children, but he had been quietly using up whatever little his father had left for him in the bank for the sake of the children. Odd-job laboring pays very little even if he was talented with the flash-jump, and he did have trouble making ends meet.
But if he left, who was to take care of the kids--
"Ding dong" went the apartment bell. It was Junko, together with a rather irate, slightly injured Jared.
"Junko, Jared, what are the both of you doing here?"
"Well, we came to visit the kids... and you. Here's a token of appreciation from the school."
Adamu was semi-appalled to find a huge gift basket in the doorway, filled with everyday condiments that they could really use, plus some rather useful extras like candies, a basketball, and, of all things... a pair of new sneakers.
"We found your sneakers to be worn out, so the teachers' association chipped in to get one pair for ya," smiled Junko. "Jared, you'd to give him something too."
"Do I have to?"
"Jared Davies!"
"Fine, fine, Junko," winced Jared. "Here, sir. I'm sorry I said some rather mean things about you. I didn't know--"
"As long as you knew why, it's all right. Karen, get him the ointment from the cabinet."
"Aye, aye, Captain Adamu!"
"That punch I gave you was definitely not light." Adamu jabbed at Jared's neck lightly, to the latter's immense pain. "Your entire neck is blackened. Junko, you didn't happen to give him eggs for breakfast?"
"Umm... That's the only thing I knew how to cook... Heh heh, heh heh," laughed Junko sheepishly.
"Don't give him that while he's nursing a blue-black. It'll only worsen his injuries. Ah, Thanks, Karen," he mouthed as Karen passed him a small bottle of brown liquid. "Jared, hold your neck up."
"What?"
"Ya might wanna sit down, this is going to take a while."
"Huh...? WAAAAAARGH! Oh my gawd what the fuck -- What the burning shit is this?!" Yelled a violently surprised Jared as the ointment proved too hot on the touch for him.
"Shh, not so loud," cooed Adamu as he covered Jared's mouth with his other hand.
"You're kinda lucky today, Jared," teased Jason. "That ointment he got is his own stuff, and it's really effective... although it will hurt a lot."
"Aren't you being kind, Jason, by telling him this only after the damage was done?"
"Hey, you little hussy--"
"Not in the presence of the teacher, you both," hissed Adamu. "Don't worry a bit... it's going to be done soon..."
"Ugh... It hurts like hell, dude! Tell me the next time -- hey... the pain is not so bad now..."
"Junko..."
"Yea, Adamu?"
"We can't have your basket, although I appreciate the concern," spoke Adamu as he stood up. "Since you guys got me the sneakers, I will take it to show I appreciate everything, but the rest... I think donating it to the needier would be better."
"Is that so? Well... I think the Church would appreciate your gesture then."
"Please convey my regards to Pastor Gregory, tell him it's from the school and not like, from me. Since it's you guys, ya know... alright?"
"Sure thing. Okay, then, I shouldn't be holding you guys up. Come on, Jared, we've got a movie to catch!"
"But my neck, Junko!"
"Be a man, gee! Look at the things that are gonna mummify Adamu! You're just slightly injured!"
Adamu chortled at the thought of being regarded as a mummy, which wouldn't be so far off the mark since he had to wrap up the bleeding from both arms, legs and the top part of his chest. The couple left the Fuitami apartment somewhat happy, smiles all over as they took their last turn around the corner of the corridor.
"Isn't this typical Adamu to look heroic and reject the glaring big gift that's for us?" Hinted Karen as she strolled to the kitchen.
"Well, I know they gifted that just because I saved some kids from the fire, but that meant nothing and really, we're not short on those. I come from West Berksley, ya know. All these are extravagances to us, I'd say."
"Didn't that Lena Kotsworth come from West Berksley, too? How come she mugged you for the money, then?"
"She is? Oh, right, I totally forgot that she came from West Berksley. Looks like it's time to check up with Alexander the Fatso--"
"This is today's newsflash at nine-thirty in the morning, brought to you by the good people at KNN. Today's host - Darius Eisenhower."
The television flickered to life as Jason tuned in to the news channel, much to Adamu's surprise. It should have been children's cartoons, but Adamu knew little in the way of the television, having waned off it for almost half a decade.
"Good morning Kerning City, thank you for tuning in to KNN at nine-thirty. Today's highlights on the coast will be on a shocking double-murder in the district of West Berksley. Police received reports approximately five hours ago of the incident that happened at Telling Street, with witnesses testifying that a young mage was responsible for killing Alexander Leighton, 31, a low-end career middleman plying his trade in the district from his residence. Recent reports suggest that another person only known as The Snarl, has likewise been murdered by the same mage not far away from Mr. Leighton's apartment. He died in hospital at approximately seven thirty-seven, after doctors fail to resuscitate him from shock as a result of blood loss and trauma... Currently, there are no mugshots available to identify the suspect, but it has been ascertained by the police to be a teenage blonde wearing a faded pink skirt. Any member of the public with information should immediately contact your nearest police outpost..."
"There goes my only lead," shook Adamu. "I have other things to worry about, though. Oh, friggin' crap!"
"What got you, Adamu?"
"Junko... Oh gosh, I forgot to ask if she could take care of you while I'm away."
"What? You're serious about the exercise, Adamu? I was just kiddin' about the money, ya know!"
"Don't worry ya 'lil noggin' about this!"
"But Adamu--" Jason began, the first one to protest.
"I'll email back everyday to update you on my situation, alright? When did they say to report for mobilisation?"
"Let's see... three days later, nine-twenty in the morning at Lith Harbor. No cost as long as you have the letter with you. But Adamu... please, is it necessary?" Karen pleaded, her eyes furrowed in sadness as she tugged at Adamu's shirt. Adamu had never ever seen the headstrong, independent Karen in this state; obviously he's succeeded as a dependable legal guardian.
In frustration, Adamu pulled the blinds up and pushed the dusty windows in his apartment outwards, raking up particles all over as he dipped his head in deep consideration amidst the choking dust. The responsibilities of a guardian were heavier than he imagined 'em to be, money issues notwithstanding.
"Sorry, kids, I've gotta be honest wit'cha about my assets, or... the lack of it, rather. I ain't ya superman, ya know..."
***
"That's the plan we have now," said Kaori as she flicked the lights of the conference room on. "We attack them from the three points mentioned by the sergeant, and we make it good the first time."
"Madam Inoue, don'tcha think it's a bit obvious to attack them in such a direct manner?" Asked Master Warrant Officer Perry Macdonald, his hair - or the bald shiny head in place of his hair - being somewhat shiny in the strong lighting of the conference room, as he blew a whiff of cigar away from Crim, who was immediately beside the veteran. "Sorry fer the cigar, lil' girl."
" -cough- Gotten used to you, Uncle Perry," joked Crim, even though she had a hard time resisting the urge to choke on the putrid-smelling smoke.
"We don't have no concealment facilities here," replied Kaori. "I think it'll be better to attack them when they are least aware, that's why I said to attack at exactly midnight. It will minimise casualties and bring us quick control of the facility."
"No will do, Kaori," interjected another Master Warrant Officer, Chuck Douglas, a black-haired man sporting a cap on his head on all occasions. "We don't know the internal structures of the building. I think we need an on-site scout before this can commence."
There was a knock on the door, and Crim bounced straight off her chair to check on the door.
"Who is it outside? There's a meeting going on here now, is this urgent?"
Outside the door, Shiba had to will himself to cool down. "Come on, you are not Furuyami Shiba," he told himself.
"Captain Bai She, of Henesys-Ellinia Intel, reporting," he coolly replied.
"...Bai She?" Wondered Crim. "It's rare to have somebody who names himself after a snake. Still, what is it, sir? I have official authority equalling a major's, and I need to know what your business in here is."
"I have field intelligence with regards to a suspect building south of the L.S.T. we're bound towards. This is latest intelligence from my unit, madam."
"Not one of them intel kids again," snorted Douglas as he spun his cap around. "Whaddaya make of this, maestro?"
"I say we let him in," suggested Akitsuki. "A fellow officer can't do harm."
And so Shiba - as Captain Bai She - obtained access to the ongoing conference. Remembering that he was an officer, Shiba saluted the Admirals as he entered the room."
"Captain Bai She, reporting!" He saluted aloud, to the point where the noise in the entire room was cancelled out by his crystal-clear show of respect.
"At... at ease," Akitsuki returned the salute, feeling somewhat spoilt by Shiba's loud salute. "You have information for us?"
"Yes, sir! Please do take a look at the intelligence that I have for you!"
Shiba plugged his device into the projector nearby, and immediately the hotspots on the map were supplemented by overhead satellite photos and the building was given a second level of detail that clearly shows where the more mission-critical facilities, such as the power and water supplies, were located.
"Madam, I have word from Intelligence straight from the Icy-Draw," Shiba addressed Kaori as she reflected on the battle plan that they had both enacted. "We are given Priority Highest recommendation to attack the facility from its east, as the building is on a rocky ridge on that side. We could use the ridge to support a light mechanised squad that can attack the north via the metal bridge..."
Priority Highest... that was a term she had not heard of in ten years, and more importantly, most officers at Shiba's age - a batch of officers that the veteran specialists would mock at as the clean thumbs - would have been trained to use the alternative "Prime-Ten". As Shiba spoke away animatedly in the name of the Informations Chamber's Direct Response and Assistance Group (or the ICDRA group), thoroughly convincing everyone that he was not just a typical clean thumb, Kaori decided to excuse herself as she made her way onto the main deck.
There was one call to make, and it was to someone at the bottom of the corvette. Specialist Alex Lee, better known to Kaori as the Information Counter; as far as the Admiral can remember, this fellow has proven, reliable contacts in all of the Marines' three services. That was all she needed to justify her call.
"...Specialist Alex, please, this is Admiral Inoue speaking."
"Admiral K, hey! What's up?" Spoke the cheerful voice that reeked of Kerning City. "Ya got a hot issue with me?"
"Hey, Alex, I need you to contact Intelligence on my behalf. I'm kinda busy now."
"What, the intelligent clean thumbs? I thought one mass of 'em just got on the next corvette, since that dude you rescued told them a lot. That dude's kinda sissy though... brrr, shudder meh!"
"What? The main Intel crew is on the next corvette? You hundred percent sure?"
"'fer course I am, my dear Admiral! Ain't no pay rise I gonna get if I lied to ya!"
"... okay, thanks a lot, I owe you one."
"Yea, baby, you owe me one big one. I've yet to be promoted yet, and I've got kids to feed!"
"Yes, yes, but the Commissar is unwilling... I'll talk to him the next time I get the chance."
"Aww jeez, ya can just haul my ass up to the Chief and tell 'im I am good!"
"Yes, yes, I'll highly recommend you, alright?"
"I got ya word on that, Admiral!"
"No worries, Alex. Goodbye for now."
Kaori suddenly felt a tinge of familiarity despite the fact that Captain Bai She was more than he looked, as she hung the line up on Specialist Alex. She scratched her head, wondering what to do. How the devil did this Captain of dubious origins get on the corvette? Why was he not discovered until now? Where was he when the pre-move conference was held?
Then, unexpectedly, another line came ringing through Kaori's device, and it was a number Kaori was decidedly unfamiliar with, even though she knew from the caller identification that it was a high-level military line. Hesitant, she picked up the phone and spoke cautiously, wary of any traps.
"Good afternoon, Admiral Inoue speaking."
"Madam, I hope you have not been alarmed by Captain Shiba -- I mean, Captain Bai She."
"Who... is this?"
"I'm from the InfoCham, but I cannot reveal who I am to you," replied the young woman on the other end. "I can only tell you that the Chief has authorised me absolute freedom to deploy able personnel on board the next five waves of corvettes, civilian or military. The person who entered your pre-battle conference on the S.S. Axel's main deck, is Special Operative Furuyami Shiba, now currently as Captain Bai She. He will be assisting you and Admiral Oodama indefinitely."
"How the devil... did you know he..."
"I don't want to explain anything," replied the girlish voice curtly. "Also, I don't want his identity to be exposed."
"Under orders of the Chief?"
"Absolutely, Madam. Don't worry, he's harmless."
"Is that all? Then I shall hang up--"
"Oh, wait up. I forgot to tell you one other important matter."
"What is it? Spit all you want in one go, will you?"
"Simple, really. I did not call you, and you spoke to nobody. You know what I mean, don't you?"
Kaori found herself growing irritated of this pompous girl on the other end. "Suit yourself, woman," she spat, hanging up the phone in the presence of a recently-dismissed Shiba, who came out of the conference room as soon as his presentation was complete. Shiba overheard the last line that Kaori spoke, but all he did was nothing more than to shake his head and smile away.
"That woman has an effect on just about every other Marine," he chuckled away quietly as he saluted the Madam upon sight. As the blue-haired, red-irises boy of Oriental origin made his way down the decks, Kaori stared intently at his back, absolutely suspicious and somewhat paranoid. At this point of time, Akitsuki emerged from the conference room with a layer of zest over his movements, Shiba having thoroughly convinced him of pinpoint intelligence that they had been searching for.
"All right, K! We got a sure-fire plan this time around... umm... Kaori?"
Kaori was not there to share Akitsuki's joy, instead she was spacing out while trying to sort her chaotic thoughts.
"...oh, um, right... yea?"
"Kaori, you all right? You have been away for a while, and you're not quite yourself now. Did something happen at Lith Harbor?"
"No, no, nothing happened," reassured Kaori. "Now, where's Crim?"
"I think she went to the bunk deck again to inspect her men. She's still the reliable little woman we knew of since Kith Harbor," remarked Akitsuki. "On the other hand... You seriously don't look well, Kaori."
"I'm really fine, no worries you little fairy," replied Kaori as she made a slight twitch to her lips that, she thought, might just look like a grin to anybody. "I was just thinking of those days back at the Amaryllis."
"Ah, no wonder you're spaced out then," replied a thoroughly reassured Akitsuki. "Don't think too much about it. The Amaryllis you knew of is not really the Bloody Amaryllis today."
"I hope so, Aki, I really hope so..."
***
"Well... this is it, kids," sighed Adamu as the civilian vessel - a large cruise ship bearing uncanny resemblance to a large whale - loomed in sight of the black, streamlined coupe that the quartet rode in. "And, thanks for the ride again, Jared."
"Don't thank me. I'm jealous that Junko gives you more protection than she ever did to me," sulked Junko's fiance, to the giggles of the kids on board. "Anyway, you sure about this? I mean, I'm not really sure that the girl loves me since the events in school and on Trinity Street..."
"Ah, that's Junko for you. She knows what reason really is about better than the both of us. Your intent is right, but you're somewhat judgemental and reckless, so she gets irritated," reasoned Adamu. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. I mean, come on, you must've kissed her close to a hundred times already, while I never even got one from anyone at all."
"That sounds like a mighty relief," beamed Jared as the kids giggled at the self-professed bachelor. "You're one hell of a good guy, ya know. Even after what happened between us."
"Not really," was the reply from the ever-humble Adamu. " If I'm a good guy, I might consider letting Darrel Sanger go, but no, I have every plan to kill the wussy when I see him. I kind of hope I do see him where I'm being mobilised to."
"I have your word for it. Here, a device. My own money."
"This is kind of an expensive gift from ya--"
"Just take it," hissed Jared. "Junko will kill me if I didn't give this to you!"
Adamu chortled away and happily accepted the device - spankin' black! - from someone who hasn't known him for more than two weeks, three at best maybe. The vessel honked away into the distance, and the whistles were sounded from the ship hands.
"Last call from them ship hands, it seems," Jared noted. "Get goin' already. Junko and I will take care of these three little rascals--"
The three kids took as much issue with the usage of the word "rascals", as they did the number of turns to pummel Jared around, even if it was half in jest.
"--fine, fine, three little angels... while you're away."
"I'm countin' on ya," bowed Adamu. "Thanks a million!"
"Don't mention it. Get going, dude, bowing ain't gonna getcha a ship ride!"
Adamu picked up his traveller's bag, and utilised the pavement to his advantage as he sped forward in a series of quick flash-jumps, eventually reaching the inside of the vessel without really going through the proper channels by, quite literally speaking, flying onto the main deck. He did this by jumping repeatedly between the corvette's hull and two tall pillars, "triangulating" his momentum as he leapt closer and closer to the main deck. On his last jump, he roared as he channeled his energy onto the stone pillar via his foot, terrifying the people on the main deck as he flew about uncontrollably and began to hit things - soft boxes and objects at first, but eventually other people as well.
"Whoa, flying human!" The apt description came from a bespectacled, laptop-wielding geek nearby, almost oblivious to the danger.
"What in the name of... waaargh!" Blurted an unfortunate fair-skinned bone-thin guy as he took the brunt of Adamu's headbutt on his stomach.
"Incoming!" Shouted a cowboy nearby, sounding the warning early enough for everyone to avoid the mess that was the flying Adamu and the aforementioned airborne unlucky guy.
"That was a bit too fast," exclaimed Adamu as the trio below laughed at his escapade. "What's there to laugh at, you kids?!" He shouted, blasting away at his charges from below the ship, their laughter heard by him from the distance. Adamu then unexpectedly felt a hand pull his shoulder backwards... specifically, the right hand of an angry-looking Henesysian youngster wearing a green-black schemed china suit and a pair of black jeans.
"What's the big idea, you nitwit?" Shouted the youngster, the veins on his head rather thick with rage. "You pickin' a fight with me?"
Adamu had bumped into him earlier while flying onto the ferry, and that got the youngster's blood boiling.
"Cool it, friend. We do not need to get upset," cooed the other guy, his upper body bereft of clothing and obviously bearing a hulking, muscular build that intimidated all but the most experienced of battle-weary veterans.
"I'm sorry about that, boy. Ain't no way not to miss the ship if I don't do that, I heard the ship's horn blow. Forgive a late dude, willja?"
The china-suited youngster adjusted his clothing and continued to stare angrily at Adamu, thoroughly unsatisfied at Adamu's somewhat unapologetic response.
"Whatever," he spat, picking up a large, rather showy pirate's hat that bore a skull-and-crossbones insignia on the front. "Let's go, buddy. Any second more staring at this retard, and I will only anger myself further."
"Let us go to the ballroom. There are some fine wine being served there, I think," suggested the bare-chested fellow.
"No thanks, I'm going to my bunker." The angry youngster stared back at Adamu, who whistled away on the main deck as he let the cool sea breeze caress his skin. "That kid won't have a bunk, but I don't give no two hoots."
Adamu laughed away, but whatever that he might be laughing about was lost to the winds, louder than his own vocals were. He was amused at the china-suit kid's response, finding it ridiculous and funny if not absolutely narrow-minded.
"That kid amused me, really. Haiya!" growled the brunet as he pulled the skinny guy up from the deck floor. "Sorry about earlier."
"I'd have done the same if I were you -- hey... aren't you Fuitami Adamu from the Jordania Vigilante?"
"Huh? Umm, yes, I am Adamu, and you are...?"
"Jerry Timbers, one of the members on the West Wing."
"Oh, no wonder I've never seen you before, I'm almost always on the East Wing. But how did you...?"
"The Vigilante Weekly splashed your picture on the front page last issue. I'd not have done what you did if I were you."
"Appreciated, seriously... But it's us, remember?" Adamu grinned with a tinge of pride. "Us, the Vigilante."
***
"Miss Kotsworth, look at the time now!" Bellowed Madame Tussa as Lena hurriedly tied her flowy hair into a ponytail. "We've got a ship to clean, and it's not going to be easy!"
Lena grimaced, but with a slight grin to boot as she grabbed the pail that awaited her at the janitor's room. This corvette they were on had hand grips and footholds on the sides of the windows for those agile or for the magically inclined, so Lena generally enjoyed the exercise in regulating mana energy. Of course, it was quite tough for her to regulate the mana flow to clean the windows simultaneously as she did during the demonstration, so smaller windows are still hand-wiped while the larger windows would be dealt with by standing on the footholds. Owing to this reason, for simplicity's sake she would often request Mrs. Javier to schedule her for large window cleaning.
"Lena deals with the larger windows, with Sally and Manami," declared Mrs. Javier. "Trisha, you and the five other girls will handle the smaller ones."
"Why is it always Lena on the larger windows?" Protested Trisha, the fairest-skinned of the group of nine. "Those windows are much more straightforward! Those smaller windows are so complicated and the hand holds are so not useful!"
"Don't you complain! Lena's constitution is still weak, and so she will be on the larger windows until I say she's fit to do the smaller windows! As maids employed on this corvette, the last thing you can do is complain!"
"Tch!" Tutted the upset Trisha as Lena quickly scooted out of the scene to prevent any more awkwardness. I will do the smaller windows, anyway, thought Lena. Better to get the job done faster and get more rest, since the timetable has work not only in the mornings and afternoons, but way up into midnights as well.
Hence, she glided from the top of the hand grip, sliding downwards slowly as she gripped her pail with her weaker left hand. Whenever it came to large windows, wiping is a must, as instructed by Madame Tussa, so she started off on her first window by gliding the window-cleaning cloth swiftly, wiping up the dirt and then quickly rinsing it.
"Hey, Lena, be careful," shouted the tan-skinned Sally as Lena worked on the window below hers. "The ship's on the move already!"
Indeed, the corvette was moving away from port, and amidst loud cheers she didn't know what for, and she cared naught for to begin with. The ship was swaying around more than usual, so Lena - weak constitution and all - swayed around harder than the rest of the maid's crew, since she had not fully recovered from the m-exhaustion that arose from overuse of mana energy. That, and a growing girl's period, are all compounding into one huge pain-in-the-ass, if one would pardon the horrible pun.
"For the love of gawd, the pain," she frowned, this time with the smile disappearing altogether. "If I ain't a mage, it would've been really messy already. Gawd..." she droned, resisting the urge to quit and stop altogether. Not when people within the large windows were looking at her.
"Damned, look at the party crowd... They sure are livin' it up with all the music and whatnot, huh?" She remarked, while cleaning the window in as fast a speed as her pained body would allow - in other words, relatively slow. Realising that Madame Tussa's watchful eyes were staring from high above, the glint as glaring as the afternoon sunlight, she kept mum and continued to wipe the windows. Within the half-hour of the cooling afternoon, Lena was done with her assigned windows, keeping them as sparkly clean as she could in spite of her condition.
"Good girl, Lena, you're done so soon," smiled Madame Tussa as Lena pulled herself up with the hand holds. "Mrs. Javier's darling, as always, and she's not wrong about it at all. You are capable."
"I won't take all the credit, Ma'am," spoke Lena as she glanced downwards to find Trisha struggling away with the five other girls. "I think I'll go and help Trisha's group, madame."
"Oh? Suit yourself then, little miss," Madame Tussa cooed, satisfied at what she saw. "Your group is the first one in my fifteen years of management that I didn't have to worry much about. Now I can finally get to use some of those throat-soothing cream from the Florina Isles... what a relief!"
Lena did not reply verbally, only smiled away. It was nice being praised at, no matter who you are, she'd thought.
***
"Trisha?"
The fairest-skinned girl looked up, only to find Lena coming down from above, her hands trembling if for just a moment.
"Lena?! What are you doing here?" cried a surprised Trisha.
"I'm helping you clean these smaller windows," smiled Lena, the veins on her hands showing a rather deep, dangerous purple. "One more pair'f hands are always better, no?"
Trisha began to find herself blushing, somewhat in embarrassment. She'd laid a rather crude comment on Lena before they began work, but Lena still offered to help her in spite of the public fact that she had a weaker constitution. Trisha knew it was wrong, but her somewhat incorrigible, foul mouth processed words before her head did.
"I didn't need you to help, Lena," was Trisha's response. "Mrs. Javier will have my head for this."
"Oh, don't worry, she'll understand if I explained," reassured Lena. "Which windows aren't cleared up yet?"
"We're left with the trickiest Sector Ten windows," blurted Trisha. "I doubt you'll be able to get there before you start to collapse of exhaustion again--"
But Lena wouldn't have no for an answer, obviously, as she waved goodbye and proceeded to skirt along the windows. Trisha admitted internally that when Lena skirted the steps, she was just a sight to behold, yet her praise would never be voiced out of her own throat all because of petty, petty pride. Shaking her head in confusion, she uttered a few curse words at herself as she continued to wipe what was left of her sector of windows.
Meanwhile, Lena took little effort out of her mana reserves as she skirted to the sector Trisha mentioned of. It was exactly like Trisha said - tricky. Owing to some kind of oversight, Lena noticed that the steps ended halfway along the sector of windows, and cleaning the windows on that particular sector was an extremely hassling business since the only two ways the cloth could reach the other half would be through an extension bar with the cloth attached to it, or through magical means. The fact that there are twenty windows on every sector meant that it was not a simple matter to get these windows cleaned, either way.
"We all dread this kind of thing that isn't really out fault," sighed Lena. "And I am going to lose my balance soon, too, if I'm not careful about this at all... damned."
As she mouthed off, her prophecy came true - in the form of a freak wave that hit her squarely by the right. The young mage yelped, almost losing her grip as she clung on for dear life. Her cloth and bucket, however, did not survive the wave, as it flew down the steps and into the seawater. Lena did all she could to move upwards, as she got hit by more and more of the waves of water. Trisha, who at this time had just completed wiping her sector of windows, noticed Lena's predicament and gagged as she saw a third wave slam into Lena's right side again.
"Oh, my fuckin' god! Girls, Lena's in trouble! She's at the troublesome sector!"
"What? Why's she there?"
"I ain't got no time to explain out here! We gotta save her!"
Lena would not surrender to the waves that easily, and she showed the seawater lots of teeth to prove her point. Aware of the risks of m-exhaustion, she tinged her palms with blue energy again, using it to strengthen her hold on all four limbs as she pulled herself further up and closer to the workers' deck. By the time she was three windows away from safety, though, she was too tired to move any further, knowing that she had exhausted her mana energy once again.
In this moment of weakness, she fell off the window with a louder yelp than before, scaring the rest of the maids who were horrified at her disappearance from the windows. Her voice, however, emerged from within the window as she put her head outside the next moment.
"I'm safe, girls! Stop... worrying... about me..." she said, before pulling herself in quickly to avoid straining herself any further. The unexpected waves took the mickey out of her, and in place of her fatigue was a head-splitting migraine. She felt herself frown so much, her face must have crumpled up like a cabbage. "Ugh... I'm feeling the puke, too..."
"Damned, this hurts..." She cursed, as she nursed her headache on the corridor, which she felt to be unusually quiet given the party she had noticed earlier. "I hope the crew comes here soon, I need some painkillers for this damned thing... Ouch."
"Girl, you need some help?" spoke a brown-haired, lanky brunet, the only person along the almost-deserted corridor who noticed Lena's predicament. "What happened?"
"My headache... damned," she squeaked. "I feel like pukin', too..."
The brunet shuffled through his belongings inside a stuffed-looking travellers' bag, and was close to throwing out everything he had ever owned in his life, before finally finding his own emergency-use medicine and a small bottle of water. Ignoring the mess he had created with his own bag, he slowly tilted the girl's head, allowing her to ingest the medicine on her own as he fed her the medicine slowly.
"Slowly does it, girl... You okay now?"
Lena stopped for a bit, shook herself and pressed her fingers around her cheek temples and forehead. "I'm... feeling... slightly better now. Thanks, whoever you are--"
"There she is! Lena! Lena!"
The brunet turned his head around, his eyes wide open as the girl's name echoed in his head. He dropped his wallet - rather - Lena's wallet - as he attempted to match picture with face. This was noticed by a responsive Trisha, as she, Mrs Javier and two other girls approached Lena, eager to get her out of the corridor and to rest.
"Sir, you dropped this?" Trisha spoke, simultaneously noticing that Lena's photo was inside. "Wait a minute, this ain't your stuff. You tryin' to steal from a poor lil' girl, you asshole?"
"Huh? Wait, what are you talking about?!"
Trisha knew that she never let her head run through the consequences of her own actions, ever. That much was pretty evident the moment her palm connected squarely with Adamu's face, sending the youngster staggering into his own bag - or rather, the mess around his bag. He tripped over one of the dailies he brought along to stave off the boredom, sending the newspaper flying around with him yelping out aloud as he painfully lost his balance.
"Trisha, what in heaven's name are you thinking?"
"Mrs. Javier, this asshole had Lena's wallet --"
"No, not that! Carry Lena back to our bunkers, hurry!" Ordered Mrs. Javier. "The girl's gone and done it again, no matter how many times I tell her not to!"
Trisha did not want to let the brunet get away so easily, but given that she had a job to do, she decided that stabbing an ever-effective middle finger to his face would do. And rude gestures the gutsy maid did, in the face of a rather surprised Adamu as he struggled to understand what had just happened... with his ass on the corridor.
Then the collective group of maids disappeared into a lift nearby, leaving the youngster thoroughly confused and completely messed up, in one way and then the other.
"...I've found her. I got slapped, and now I think I hurt my ass. Now what?" Adamu wondered aloud, still in a daze.
To be continued..