Warriors are not born, but made.
"How in the hell did they pull that off?"
"I have no idea, but they did it. We have to stop them, in force. Captain Goldwater, if you cut them off with your fleet, they won't stand a chance. Reginald, intercept them, stall for as long as possible. And should the opportunity to eliminate them present itself-"
"Understood."
Reginald stood up and walked out.
"Ey Sal, ye have enough staff t' share? I have a trio o' new contraptions t' test."
"Sure. Ye finally finished optimizing the chicken?"
"Aye, and I have a whole convoy o' these newfangled 'spire-copters' on their way to the forest. Together, they'll be the last nail in the coffin fer those vermin. The chicken is going t'be in reserve with them. Pathos, any new toys on your end?"
"Oh, just a few paddle guns, a bunch o' marauders, and a few half-scrapped river homes. We need some heavier firepower, don't we? I think I have a solution.
Across the continent, the next morning, the cruiser was in motion. As soon as it pulled out of the harbor, a boat made of what looked like a massive sunken airship emerged from the channel and circled the cruiser.
Markus: "really? I just woke up. They're shooting at us already. Great. Is that a tow cable? Oh joy of joys, they're going to board us. It was nice knowing you."
River: "Take evasive action, but hold fire on the main guns, will ya? If ya give up hope because ya couldn't get a few more minutes o' shuteye, that's all fine and dandy, but I plan on livin' a while longer."
River snatched the rambot and the Morningstar, climbed onto the deck, and shot into the sky. She landed softly on the main deck of the heavy ship. A service hatch near the grappler turret opened readily. She crawled into a dark, cramped room filled with odds and ends, apparently a storeroom for maintenance equipment. The door was unlocked.
She stepped into a shadowy, unmarked corridor which led to a junction, dimly lit by a single hanging bulb. A long, pitch dark corridor ending in a stairwell was directly in front of her, and on either side was a door labeled 'engine access.' She climbed down the steps into a large windowless room filled with crates and barrels.
"Bravo. I've seen some impressive feats in my time, but never a standing leap of almost sixty feet to the deck of another ship. I was planning on coming over to you, but it would appear you saved me the trouble."
A tall, lanky figure stepped out of the shadows. He was wearing simple clothes woven from some natural fiber, probably made by hand, but in overall pristine condition. A long, narrow sword was in his hand, the blade rested on his shoulder, and a much shorter, thicker blade hung from his belt in a sheath. River reached for her Morningstar.
"Oh dear, I don't believe we've met. Admiral Reginald, and you must be the 'river rat' which Captain Sal is so rattled over."
"That's not my name, and frankly I'm very fed up with the spineless backstabbing liar who gave me that nickname, so please don't call me that."
"Duly noted. A pity we have to meet as a result of such hostile intent. How unfortunate that such a unique individual with such high potential to change the world should step between myself and my loyalties."
"Did you come here to kill me or not?"
"Unfortunately so. En gardé!"
Reginald swung the blade down from his shoulder, narrowly missing River, who staggered backwards into a crouched fighting stance and raised her left arm. She spun the heavy sphere toward him. He sidestepped and parried the blow.
"Tsk tsk, your form is sloppy, uncoordinated."
He stabbed at her shoulder and narrowly missed. She pulled her arm back. He held his blade out in front of him. She punched him in the gut and he slammed into a bulkhead. He looked up at her, and a flicker of- doubt?- crossed his face. He staggered to his feet and lowered his blade.
"If you really are after the pirate lords, here is one delivered to you on a platter! Cut me down here and now, and kill one of the three living souls who knows your little secret."
"-what?"
"Oh indeed, Sal told me everything. If you kill me, he lets slip exactly what you are to every thug, mercenary, bounty hunter, and assassin in Deepwater. If that were to happen, well, good luck explaining that to your 'friend.' What will he think of you then, lab rat-"
River lunged towards him and was met by cold steel. In one motion, he had leveled his blade and pinned her to the bulkhead by her shoulder.
"Ah, so you aren't impervious. You don't talk nearly as much as he thought you would."
"You stabbed- me- and now you- want to- talk?"
"Yes, why wouldn't I?"
