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Hebes24 wrote:I was finally able to catch up on this story. I like it a lot, especially with the new developments as of late. Keep up the excellent work, man.

What he said.

Hebes24 wrote:

Hebes24 wrote:I was finally able to catch up on this story. I like it a lot, especially with the new developments as of late. Keep up the excellent work, man.

What he said.

Y'know, it wouldn't hurt to be specific.
Next chapter. it's a big one.

453 A.D.C.
Fifth Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, near the Garsbard Line

“Take us right down on top of her, Megas. We’ll board through the bridge.” Captain Ikellin instructed.
“Aye sir.” The first mate started up the shuttle and piloted it out of the Spirit’s shuttle bay. Besides Ikellin and Megas, there were three other crewmen in the shuttle: Azi, Gilgas, and Jimbo, all of them were armed and ready.
The shuttle sped out and over the small plateau on which the Spirit had come to rest. The Death of Chivalry stood within sight less than a kilometer away, at the bottom of a large cliffside. It was apparent from a single glance, now that the sun had risen, that the ship had been landed, not crashed there. Megas deftly took the shuttle down and landed on the ship’s wide back, right behind the bridge. Unlike the Spirit, which had a separate bridge-house in the rear of the ship, the Death of Chivalry’s command center was built near the prow and was built into the upper hull instead of above it.
Megas deactivated the engines and flipped a switch near the control yoke. The shuttle’s hatch opened with a pneumatic hiss. Saying nothing, the six pirates exited the shuttle. Ikellin walked over to where the metal ended and the glass began and fired a single shot, shattering the pane. Then he jumped down into the bridge. The others followed close behind.
The Death of Chivalry’s bridge was an absolute wreck. Navigation charts littered the floor, spattered with drying, deep scarlet blood, and most of the tables and chairs, which had all been bolted to the floor before, had been torn up and scattered. The back wall was peppered with bullet holes and blackish blood, but the veiwscreen panes were unharmed, indicating a one-sided firefight. Only the wireless set remained relatively intact, with an auxiliary battery that was quickly losing its power. The transmission could barely be heard from the headphones that dangled near the floor.
“No bodies.” Jimbo muttered as he bent down and sniffed a crusting blood stain. “Yep. That one’s a Marudem. Looks like the corpse was dragged out of here as well.” He pointed to the large smear mark that ran in the direction of the bridge’s doorway.
“Then prepare for a welcoming committee.” Azi readied a bullet in the firing chamber of her rifle with a faint metallic chk. “Nobody goes dragging bodies without plans to stick around.”
“Your paranoia is astounding, Diekspa.”
The human spun her rifle to point directly at Gilgas’ left temple.
“As is your stupidity. You don’t want to be up against me in a gunfight, Gilgas.”
Ikellin pushed the weapon out from between the two calmly.
“Trust me, you don’t.” He said to the second mate with a hint of anger on the fringes of his voice. “You stay here and see if you can find any worthwhile information in this mess.” Gilgas nodded. Ikellin motioned for the others to follow him.
As they continued through the innards of the Death of Chivalry, one thing was plain: there had been one hell of a fight. In almost every section of the ship they came to, from the mess hall to the bunkhouse, were the remains of the fight. But there were no bodies, just blood stains, bullet holes and general wreckage in the dimly lit corridors. A feeling of evil permeated every shadowy corner of the ship, as if a madman would jump out at any moment and slaughter them all. Ikellin, and of course all of the pirates, were used to the aftermath of violence, but this set a new bar. But, if any of them had any feelings of fright, they covered them up quite inconspicuously.
Over an hour had passed since the pirates landed in the bridge, and even during their thorough scouring of the ship, there were no signs as to who attacked the Death of Chivalry or to explain the lack of bodies. The pirates said little: disregarding the obvious, there was nothing to talk about.
“The cargo hold is up ahead.” Ikellin said as they passed through a room where the walls had been torn apart right down to the rebar and circuitry and the floor literally crunched with all the spent shells underfoot. Interestingly, several blood trails led through the bulkhead doors. The doors themselves looked as if they had been torn open by some sort of large creature, and a viciously horrid stench wafted out from the hold beyond. Holding their weapons at the ready, they entered the breach.
“Holy sh’ït.” Ikellin muttered.
At the far end of the cargo hold, near the main entryway, was a mountain of dead bodies: the crew of the Death of Chivalry in its entirety. Amongst their rotting corpses were those of dozens of beings that could only be summed up as “monsters”: massive, twisted beasts built for power and succinctly evil-looking. Not all of them were dead, however: five creatures, who had obviously been gorging themselves on their gory harvest, languidly lounged around, some still gnawing at a leg or arm. There was not a single one that did not look capable of braining a pirate with a single blow or tearing one limb from limb. The pirates, still recovering from the shock, aimed their weapons, not moving, barely breathing. Ever so slowly, Ikellin began to move backwards towards the bulkhead breach.
One of the creatures, a mangy beast with a large snout and mottled skin the color of feces started sniffing the air around it. Its head snapped to the right as it glared at the pirates. It quickly rolled itself upright and sprung at them, snarling madly. The other creatures came running behind.
The creature recoiled as three bullets imbedded themselves in its chest. Azi jumped forward, kicked it in the stomach, meleed it with the butt of her rifle in its bleeding chest, and fired another two shots into the bottom of its jaw. Gilgas and Megas both hit another two creatures with perfect headshots as Ikellin shot a third in the foot, crippling it, followed by another bullet to the neck. The creature fell to the ground, clasping its shattered neck and gurgling. The final demon didn’t even get close: it was dead before it hit the ground. As it hit the steel floor, its pale green body began to bloat and swell. Ikellin covered his eyes right before the loud popping explosion. The next thing the captain knew, his skin was on fire as it was coated in a fine acid mist. It took all the self-control he had to prevent himself from jumping up and down in pain like an idiot. Apparently Megas was not nearly as controlled; as the first mate was doing the very action Ikellin had stopped himself from.
“Gah! Ah! Oooh! Yow!” he yelped as he frantically tried wiping the acid away with his sleeve and itching frantically. Azi nonchalantly knocked him to the floor with a push to the chest and dumped the full contents of her canteen on him. The Marudem writhed for a moment more before relaxing.
“Hey, why didn’t it affect you?”
Azi shrugged.
“I don’t know. Maybe it reacts with salt, you know, since you’re a Marudem.”
“Then what about Gilgas?” Megas turned to face the second mate. Gilgas pointed to the hood, goggles and mask he had pulled over his face. Combined with his gloves, long-sleeved tunic, and baggy pants, there was not a square centimeter of open skin on his person.
“Brains, Dipwad.”
The noise footsteps came from behind them.
“Great gods almighty!” Jimbo exclaimed as he ran through the hole in the bulkhead. “What the hell are you doing down here…” his eyes caught the mountain of corpses. “Whoa. Well then. Sh’ït.”
“What did you find, Jimbo?” Ikellin asked as he himself poured the contents of his canteen over his head.
“Nothing legible in the bridge, but I did find a survivor.”
“Really?” the captain took a swig from what was left in his canteen.
“Yeah. Found her locked in the food pantry in the galley. Seems to be alright, besides the lack of sleep. She’s waiting for us up in the bridge. Says her name is Cirrine.”
Water spewed from Ikellin’s mouth all over the mechanic.
“Cirrine!” he wiped his mouth as he began to laugh. “I don’t believe it! She’s still going, is she?”
“I didn’t know you knew Cirrine Feren, Captain.” Azi said.
“Oh yeah, she and I go way back. First girl to reject me back when I was cabin boy on the Sun Thief. Amazing she’s still going-she’s ten years older than me. You know her?”
“Yeah. We were on the crew of the Bloodwhetter for a while before she got transferred.”
“Friend of yours?” Ikellin said, noting the tinge of unfriendliness in Azi’s previous remark.
“You could say that.”
“Can we cut the ‘small-world’ moment and just get the hell out of here?” Gilgas pointed to the burst body of the fifth creature. “The smell is starting to get to me.”

Cirrine Feren was a female Marudem in her late forties with purple and red coloration and hair tied up in twin ponytails that hung down to her waist. From a single glance it was apparent could tell that she had been quite attractive in her youth, and that same glance would tell that she still considered herself as such and would probably break the nose of anyone who disagreed.
“Fancy meeting you here, Cirrine.” Ikellin said as he entered the bridge. The other pirate looked up.
“And the same to you, Ike. How long has it been?”
“I can’t decide if it’s been too long or not long enough. Though you’re quite happy for someone who’s seen their crewmates killed and eaten.”
“Eh, hazard of the job, I suppose. Never liked those bastards anyway. Course the demons aren’t quite a better replacement.”
“So these things really are demons?”
“Well, they are really da-emnonex, if you go by the Kvarish term. Calling them demons just makes people overreact and thing that they’re fighting the forces of hell when it just means that they smell bad. Stupid humans. We were ambushed when we set down here for the night ‘bout three days ago. Far as I know, I’m the only one still left on the ship. There might be a few who managed to get away, but you don’t go surviving alone in the Deeps for very long.” Cirrine’s head jerked to the side as she spotted Azi in the doorway. “Look as this…Ike and Hortane! What, you ditch Rheves to be this goof’s mistress now?”
Ikellin took a double take and looked at Azi, then at Cirrine, then at Azi again. He knew Azi was one of Rheves’ best crewmen, but his mistress? He looked to Megas and Gilgas: the first mate shrugged, the second mate looked as if he was trying to hold in laughter.
“Good to see you too, Cirrine.” Azi said without any friendliness whatsoever. The look on her face said she wanted to tear the Marudem limb from limb. Ikellin stepped in front of her.
“Let’s just get back to the Spirit and we’ll sort things out there.” He said to the group. He walked back under the hole he had entered through, dragged the navigation table underneath, climbed on top, and pulled himself onto the ship’s upper hull. Azi briskly walked over to exit the ship, but not before making an incredibly rude hand gesture at Gilgas, which only served to increase his stifled snickering.
Back aboard the shuttle, Megas was just beginning to warm up the engines when the small dial next to the wireless set began to jump wildly. Ikellin pressed the button and spoke into the microphone.
“Ikellin here, what is it?”
“Captain, where’ve you been? I’ve been calling for twenty minutes!”
“Calm down, Zorhs. What is it?”
“We shot down a Diramel patrol ship while you were down in the Death of Chivalry. We have prisoners.”
“Wait, what the hell?”
“Just what I said, we have prisoners. ‘Bout ten minutes after you guys left this ship flew right over us. Just as it’s making a second pass, the cabin boy grabs a sniper rifle, switches to a tracer round, and hits the Diet Dr. Pepper thing right in the combustion chamber!”
“Shym did that?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it? Anyway, we rounded ‘em up by the time their ejector seats touched the ground. We got both of ‘em in the brig for interrogation.”
“Very well. I’m on my way.”

Ikellin stepped off the shuttle briskly the moment Megas shut the engines off back in the Spirit’s shuttle bay.
“Megas, you come with me. Gilgas, get down to the galley and find me Shym. Jimbo, find Cirrine a place to bunk. Azi, I want you in my cabin as soon as I’m done with this.” He commanded as he made his way down the hallway to the brig. Without missing a beat, he opened the heavy metal door and stepped inside.
The brig was basically a room split in half by a set of iron bars. A table with chairs was positioned right in the middle of the barrier, half of it in the cell, the other half where Ikellin and Megas stood. Jaw Lajox leaned against the wall next to the cell door, twirling the key ring on his finger.
The two prisoners had suffered a few scrapes and burns, but nothing serious. Their flight suits had been searched and emptied when they were captured. One of the airmen was a human in his mid-thirties. He had a square face and a thick jaw, with deeply tanned skin. Ikellin judged that he was not born in Diramel, probably somewhere over by the Kv’aare. The second one, to Ikellin’s absolute amazement, was a Qxill. The diminutive frog-like creature was bright red with blotches of blue and paced back and forth at the back of the cell, whereas the human sat on the chair, eyeing the pirate captain.
Ikellin and Megas sat down. The human continued to stare back at them stoically. The Qxill however leapt up, grabbed a hold on the bars and started to rant in a high-pitched voice.
“Heyyoubastardswhydon’tyougooffandscrewyourselvesyeahImeanyouheyI’m talkingtoyouletmeouttahereandIwillslaughterbothofyouanddanceonyourremains Diet Dr. Pepper!” The human sighed, grabbed his fellow pilot with one hand, and dropped him back on the floor. “HeywhatwasthatforDazthesebastardsarepirateswedon’tbargainwithpirates!”
“I’m not bargaining.” the human said back to it in a flat voice.
“Good, we’re not here to.” Ikellin said. “We are here for some information, though.”
“I am Squadron Leader Daz Dax, serial number 0922-8192.”
“Not the info we’re looking for.” Megas said. Ikellin was amused by the first mate’s response, but he didn’t show it.
“I am Squadron Leader Daz Dax, serial number 0922-8192.”
“Come now, you aren’t being tortured. We just want a little bit of information and then you both can be on your way. We’ll even give you all your equipment back. I have no reason to be unreasonable: I am an honorable captain.”
“I am Squadron Leader Daz Dax, serial number 0922-8192.”
“I can keep this up as long as you can. Trust me, I’ve done it before.”
“I am Squadron Leader Daz Dax, serial number 0922-8192.”
“They must really beat this stuff into your head back up in Diramel.”
“I am Squadron Leader Daz Dax, serial number 0922-8192.”
This time, Ikellin stayed silent. He stared right back at the prisoner, not showing the smallest sign of breaking down and giving up. Daz did not repeat his mantra.
The brig was filled with an uncomfortable silence for about a minute before it was shattered by the Qxill.
“WhatsamatteryouguysrunoutofthingstosayIbetyoudidboohooyoucan’tbreakusboohooboohoo!” he mocked. “Can’tbreakuscan’tbreakus.” He continued on to project a noxious smell accompanied by some swear words that not even the most hardened of pirates would dare repeat. The verbal abuse continued for a while, Ikellin anxiously waiting for the Qxill to stop and take a breath and seriously questioning whether or not he should kill the creature.
The Qxill had just gotten into a spirited tirade about Megas’ mother when Daz grabbed him in a gloved hand and threw him against the back wall, not too hard, but hard enough to get him shut up.
“That’s better. Now, are you ready to talk?”
“I am Squadron Leader Daz Dax, serial number 0922-8192.”
“Again with the name, rank and number. Listen. I’m offering to let you go. I’ll take you within sight of your landing zone if need be. I have no reason to kill you, though the jury is still out on the Qxill’s case. All I need to know is this: What has Diramel found in the Plate?”
“You think I trust a word you’re saying?”
“Captain’s honor. I have no reason to lie. Killing you would serve no purpose to me. I already have enough people after my head: I don’t need Diramel on that list.”
Daz seemed taken aback by the captain’s statement. The pilot was quite for a few seconds before he decided that what the pirate said was truthful.
“What we found were demons.” He started. “Thousands of them. An entire warren, stretching the length and breadth of the ground underneath the Shilto Plate.”
“So you’ve been clearing it out.”
“Yes.”
“Without much success.”
“We have no idea how far the tunnels go.”
“And the coordinates?”
“About a hundred sixty k’s southwest of here. Oh, and sorry about Poggo.” He apologized for his fellow pilot’s prior behavior.
“That’sPoggomologojogogonotolopokocolodosokotookamookadokopokoopo!” the Qxill yelled from the back of the cell. In reality, it was only about a fourth of his actual name, as the Qxill language is spoken in standard vocal, ultrasonic, hypersonic, and pheromonic ranges.
“Then that’s all I need for now.” Ikellin stood up to leave.
Enjoy.

Next chapter.

453 A.D.C.
Fifth Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, near the Garsbard Line

Azi was waiting outside Ikellin’s cabin door when he arrived from the brig. The captain wordlessly opened the door and walked in, motioning for the human to enter.
“I never made it a point before, but you better tell me the whole story of your time on the Bloodwhetter.” He said as he sat behind his desk.
“You heard Cirrine. Personally that’s a chapter of my life I’d prefer to keep sealed.”
“Understandable. But you cannot blame me for being curious.”
“I guess not. But there isn’t much to tell. I joined the crew, got…involved…with Rheves, got fed up with him, and left. That’s basically it.”
Any particular reason? You hate him enough.”
“Captain Rheves Chakalaas is an arrogant, pompous, narcissistic, egotistical, chauvinistic pig.” She said with venom directed at her former lover and captain. Her current captain, however, began to laugh uproariously.
“Hahahaha! Spot-on! That is a spot-on description of him! Please tell me you told that to his face.”
“Yep. Right as I kicked him in the crotch.” She replied, bringing back a little smile. Ikellin broke into another wave of laughter.
“Excellent! I don’t think he’ll ever learn: he’s been making the same mistakes with women for twenty years. Hahahahaha…” He placed a hand on Azi’s shoulder. “Well, my curiosity is sated. And don’t worry: If you want it to stay a secret, it will.”
“Thank you, captain.”
“Um, am I interrupting something?” Shym’s almost indiscernible voice came from the door. Ikellin’s head darted to look at him.
“What? Hell no. Azi, if you will, I have a meeting with young Mr. Shym here.”
“Aye, sir.” She left the room. Shym sat down the seat she had just left.
Ikellin eyed the young man over. He had been on the crew for less than a month and was already proving himself to be more than a mere cabin boy.
“So, Shym, I’ve been told that you single handedly took out a Diramel scout ship with a single shot.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“A feat that would be next to impossible for most of the men on this crew.”
“Yes sir.”
“Kid, I’m proud to say that you’re no cabin boy anymore.”
“Th-thank you, sir.”
Ikellin held up a hand.
“Don’t mention it. But tell me, how were you able to hit that ship in the combustion chamber with a sniper rifle that wasn’t steadied on anything? To hit a moving target with that sort of accuracy, even a slow one, you’d have to rest it against a railing or crate or something. Either that or you’re a sharpshooter to shame the Ao Na archer clans. ‘Course, luck always plays a factor, and you do seem to be especially lucky.”
“Um, yeah, I guess I am.”
“Keep up the good work. Though you’re still on kitchen duty for the rest of this week.” The captain winked. “Good work on the beer-battered mahili last night. Delicious.”
Shym stood up, made a respectful bow, and exited the cabin. Ikellin was happy for the boy: he reminded him a lot of himself when he was starting out on the Sun Thief. But there was something that nagged at him: That was a one-in-a-million shot. There was something strange about this Sabadesu, something he could not discern. The captain pushed it out of his mind. It was no time for paranoia. Right now, it was time to get to the bridge and get Derrik headed to the Shilto Plate.

Enjoy

No replies, aw man.

453 A.D.C.
Sixth Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, near the Shilto Plate

Jimbo bit hard down on his worn pipe, gritting his teeth against the bitter cold as he leaned over the Spirit’s deck rail. He blew a bright green cloud of yoika smoke from the other side of his mouth. The fruity fragrance hovered for a moment before dissipating into nothingness. Jimbo had found that yoika was far more flavorful and aromatic in warmer climes: in the Deeps, it was practically useless. Still, smoking it helped him concentrate.
“Shym told me you were out here.” Gilgas’ voice said from behind him. The mechanic spun around.
“I got a feeling this is another one of your “propositions”.” he growled at the Marudem. Gilgas shrugged his shoulders.
“No. It’s the same one.”
“Not interested.”
“Come on now. I broke you out of prison in Maha’dru. You owe me one.”
“I count getting you a job after you became the laughing stock of the Idralic as my side of it.”
Gilgas sighed.
“So be it.” He was silent for a while. “Remember what you did to that guard when we were breaking out, you know, with the latrine?”
“Heheh…One of my finer moments. Probably took his buddies hours to pull him out and a week for the stench to wear off.”
“Mm. Those were the days, weren’t they?”
“Until you left the Sado’s private security force right at the Diet Dr. Pepper landing pad.”
“Bringing that up again? Can’t we let bygones be bygones?”
“Maybe.”
“You still should listen to what I have in mind. It could net you the amount you lost with the shakwash. More, probably.”
Jimbo’s ears perked up.
“Now you got my attention.”

Ikellin whistled a cheerful tune to himself as he twirled the glass in his hand before filling it with seawater from the small cask on the counter of his cabin’s tiny wet bar. Deftly opening the door to the icebox with his other hand, he grabbed a cold bottle of saktäk and juggled it in one hand before he dashed a shot into the drink. Setting the bottle down on the counter, he reached into a small glass tank and pulled out a fat, brightly colored sea slug.
A loud knock came from the cabin door.
“It’s open.” he said as he tossed the slug up in the air and nimbly caught it in his glass. Cirrine walked through the door.
“Never knew you were a bartender, Ike.”
“Worked as one on board the Advent. Zrabali?”
“Sure, why not?” she took the seat in front of the desk.
“One house special zrabali, coming up.” Ikellin quickly whipped up another drink. Leaping over the counter, he passed the second glass to Cirrine, picked up his own, sat down in his chair and rested his feet on his desk in one smooth motion. He took a sip from his potent beverage. The slug’s vented toxins flooded his taste buds. For all species other than Marudem, zrabalis were in many cases deadly, mainly as only Marudem were capable of drinking salt water and had enough salt in their blood to absorb and nullify the poison down to only a slight numbing effect
“So, what’s up?”
“I should be the one asking you that. You’re doing what with the prisoners?”
“Letting them go back.”
“Humph.”
“I know, I know, not your style.”
“You should at least hold them for ransom.”
“Eh, the thought came to me. Not worth it.”
“So you’re not even going to raid those Diramali ships?”
“That was the original plan, but, as you know, plans change.”
“You’ve gone soft, Ikellin.”
“I tend to look at it as an alternate viewpoint. Good deal of the crew agrees with the change.”
Cirrine sighed.
“So, what’s the new plan of action?”
“Mercenary work. We help clear out that warren, they pay us. Big time.”
“And you really think that your scruffy group of ragamuffins can do what four thousand Diramali soldiers couldn’t?”
“Four thousand Diramali soldiers plus two tribes of Deep-men Sanx. That’s what the pilot said.”
“Again, you can’t possibly think you’ll accomplish anything.”
“Listen, if there’s one thing this crew’s got that Diramel doesn’t, it’s adaptability. Very likely we can figure out how to do the job they can’t do themselves.”
“You’re crazy as ever.”
“It’s paid off in the past. And you know, you never did tell me what the Death of Chivalry was doing in the Deeps to begin with.”
“And you think I’ll tell you?”
“Considering that you’re under Rheves’ command and I just so happened to have saved his life, yes.”
A distant yet detailed memory flashed through Cirrine’s head. Ikellin could easily read that from her expression.
“Same reason you came down here. Raid a couple Diramel ships, get out, make some money.”
“Oh, come on. There has to be more to it than that.”
“Ah, sh’ït. Rheves was really interested in what was going on in the plate. Sent us down to investigate. The Bloodwhetter should be there within a couple days. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he double-timed it and is there already.”
Ikellin swallowed the last of his cocktail. With his free hand he fished the sea slug out of the bottom and popped into in his mouth. He spoke around it as he chewed.
“Yeah, that’d be him. Predictable as usual.”
“Predictable as usual.”

Enjoy

What? A week gone and no replies? Ah well. Unless someone posts something I'm putting this on hold.

Sorry. I was really busy with Finals and other stuff, and I haven't had time to catch up until now.

Great story. The action, humor, and recent plot developments are very good, as usual. Keep up the good work!

Well, I guess I'll be sticking around with this thread. Next chapter.

431 A.D.C.
Seventeenth Day of the Moon of Falling Leaves
Port Jab Jid’o, Equatorial Colonies

Three people stood on the deck of the ship known as the Sun Thief, two Marudem, one Sanx. The first Marudem, a red and purple one, was tall and lanky, whereas the other standing next to him was a perfect foil: shorter and sturdier with blue and orange coloration. They were both in their mid to late teens, the tall one being a few years older. The Sanx was in his late twenties and built more like a Burgufg than anything else.
“So you are Revs,” the Sanx said in heavily accented Anamic as he pointed to the tall Marudem. “…and you are Icky.” He pointed a large finger at the other one.
“Uh, no. I’m Ikellin, he’s Rheves.” The shorter one pointed out.
“Ih-kell-in and rheevz.” The Sanx sounded out their names. “Ikellin and Rheves.” He repeated before smiling broadly. Given as smiling was not a natural Sanx expression, his attempt was somewhat overdone “And I, I am Mwo Saph. I like you guys. You are good guys.”
“Mwo Saph, eh?” Rheves said, extending a hand. Mwo Saph took it and shook it hard.
“Yes, that is me! You will like this ship. ‘High-pay trading’ vessel, this is! But, uh, the captain told me you guys were going to be showed the ropes by Cirrine. You guys might not like that.”
“What, why not?” Ikellin asked. Before Mwo Saph could answer, the deck door was forcibly opened by a young Marudem woman.
“Okay you swabbie brats!” She shouted as Mwo Saph made a hurried exit. “You’re at the bottom of the ladder now, so expect to get your asses worked off!”
The Marudem, apparently Cirrine, was in her mid twenties and shockingly beautiful. She wore her silver hair in a large ponytail tied back by a scarlet headband and a black sleeveless tunic. She was also noticeably well-endowed.
“Whoa. Nice b…” Rheves was incapable of finishing his statement as Cirrine’s right fist swung out and broke his nose.
“I’m gonna kick your Diet Dr. Pepper for that.” She hissed, smiling evilly. “Hey! Mwo! I need you to show the ropes to the short one!” The Sanx hurried back onto the scene and motioned for Ikellin to come along with him. Ikellin glanced at Cirrine, then at Rheves holding his bloody nose, and became very glad that he wasn’t going to stick around.

Enjoy.

Ah, a flashback. This looks interesting. Can't wait for more.

Next chapter.

453 A.D.C.
Sixth Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, the Shilto Plate

“We’re getting the transmission. Putting it on speakers.” the radio operator handed the microphone headset to Ikellin.
“Thank you, Zorhs.”
“Attention, unidentified aircraft. You are in restricted airspace of the Kingdom of Diramel.” A voice crackled over the speakers. “We will use force if necessary.”
“This is Captain Ikellin Bara’dogo of the Spirit, and we just so happen to be returning two of your pilots we recovered after their ship experienced an engine malfunction. Names of Daz Dax and Poggo the Qxill.”
“Um…uh…” the Diramali wireless operator’s voice faded out for a few seconds. “In that case, you have permission to land.”
The Spirit flew down to the Diramali encampment. The eight Chalbyron-class ships, plus a few supply vessels and scout ships, were arranged in a circle around a quarry-like hole in the rocky surface of the Plate. The pit was around three hundred meters wide at the rim and just as deep, dug in levels. Even though the setting sun had thrown most of the pit into shadow, some activity could be seen down there. The pirate vessel made its berth between two of the larger ships. Ikellin noted that there was no sign of any ships from Rheves’ fleet. Cirrine’s gut must’ve been wrong.
A small entourage of Diramali soldiers waited as the Spirit’s starboard boarding ramp. At the fore was one who was apparently the commander and also apparently very cold even in his fur parka. Ikellin, Megas, and Gilgas walked down the ramp, followed by Daz Dax and Poggo. The Qxill, being an amphibian, was so bundled up that he looked more like a thigh-high pile of fur than anything else.
“I am Commander Sketacha of the Diramel 4th Infantry Division.” The man who Ikellin had guessed was in charge said. “I would like to thank you for the safe return of our pilots, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to bring you in for questioning.”
“Fine by me. Point the way, commander.” The captain said, not worried in the slightest. Sketacha grumbled something to one of his soldiers, who motioned for the three pirates to follow him.

“Megas, if you keep playing with that Moving Cradle, I am going to smash your head in. That thing is Haro-Dar acid torture!”
“Aw, c’mon Gilgas. Lighten up.” The first mate smiled as the steel balls of the desk ornament clacked back and forth.
Gilgas snarled in response as a side door opened as Commander Sketacha entered the room and sat down at his desk.
“Right, let’s get started. First and foremost, what was your ship doing this far south?”
“Cargo shipping to Yikinna.” Ikeelin answered. It was of course a lie, but a plausible scenario.
“Hmm.” The commander stroked his chin. “You’re quite skilled in the art of deception, Captain.” At that moment a half-dozen Diramali soldiers burst through the doors, guns raised. “But talk is one thing. You might have had more success if you looked like anything but pirates.”
“Eh, I prefer the term ‘high-pay merchants’” Ikellin smiled, not alarmed in the slightest.
“I’m not going to take any lip from you, scumbag.”
“Whoa, whoa, hey, no need to be uncivilized here. We returned your pilots didn’t we?”
“To have even run across them you would have been south of the Line. That means you were in restricted airspace. You could be held liable for court-martial for that.”
“Uh, hello, we’re pirates. We have this thing about laws: the only ones we follow are our own.”
The commander was noticeably irritated now. He was trying to keep his patience and only partially succeeding.
“You are now hereby under arrest. Submit peacefully or we’ll turn you over to the Imperium and let them handle you.”
“Going for the old ‘Sanx legal system’ resort again? Trust me, I’ve seen it before.” The captain leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head. “Look, commander. I came here with a proposition in mind: I hire out my crew to help you clear out that warren, you don’t blow us out of the sky.”
“Don’t think you’re fooling me for a second.”
“No, honest to the gods, really.” Ikellin sighed. “What is with you people? Do a captain’s word and honor mean nothing to you?”
“Not from a pirate.”
“Very well then. I guess sixty-three brigands armed to the teeth who’ve dealt with the Sado’s personal defense force and legions of trained privateers couldn’t help you in any way shape or form.”
“Wait, the Sado’s honor guard?” Sketacha was quite amazed by this, as most of his soldiers would be slaughtered by the Arbiters of Mehedu in a matter of seconds.
“The very same. How do you think this happened?” He pulled off the cloth headband that ran across his left eye. The empty socket was padded with pale grey scar tissue. He pointed a finger to the hollow. “Five centimeter blowgun dart. Thank the gods it wasn’t poisoned.” he put the headband back on.
“I suspect you’ll want payment for your services.”
“You sure don’t catch on fast, commander. Hell yeah we want to be paid for it. The goodness of my heart only goes so far as a motive in situations like these.”
“Ten thousand.”
“Fifteen.”
“I’m not haggling with you. Ten is my offer.”
“Eh, was worth a try. Ten thousand it is.”
They shook on it.

The engine room was cramped and stunk of fuel, but it was where Gilgas had chosen to meet with Jimbo in private.
“I trust no one is with you.” Gigas said in a hushed tone as Jimbo walked through the door.
“Why the hell would I bring anybody with me? I spend enough of my Diet Dr. Pepper time down here. Whaddaya want?”
“You wanted details, I got details.” A conspiratorial look flashed across the second mate’s face. “We’re taking this ship.”
“Wait, what?”
“You heard me, Bates. We’re taking over this ship. We take out the captain down in the warren, blame it on demons, and we sail away in our new ship.”
“That’s mutiny…You’re crazy.”
“Possibly. Listen, everything that we steal gets sold and barely any of the money goes to us. I want to change that.”
“We do, as a matter of fact, have to keep the crew fed, the ship fueled, tributes paid and replacement parts bought!” Jimbo snarled through his teeth. “Whatever is left goes to us.”
“Which is barely anything!”
“Hardly. I’ve worked on this ship as long as you have and not once have I gone hungry or anything of that sort. I could kill you now and be totally justified in it.”
“We don’t have to kill him. Capture works just as well.”
“As I said, I’m totally justified.” Jimbo reached for a nearby wrench.
“Don’t think I can’t see that. Word around the mess hall is that Captain Rheves is on his way here. Perhaps that tickles your fancy?”
“So you are proposing mutiny against our own captain, capturing the captain of the largest fleet on the Idralic, marooning both of them, and eventually ending up as joint captains of sixteen vessels?”
“In a nutshell.”
“Heh, at least your planning has gotten better since last time. ‘Don’t get caught’, what the hell were you thinking?”
“We were both young and naïve, Bates. Young and naïve. It was an act of the gods that you got into that mine in one piece.”
“Please tell me this plan of yours doesn’t involve you causing a distraction.”
“Nope.”
“Good. We both know how that went over last time.” He set the wrench down. “Alright, Gilgas, I’ll take your proposition. You can kill Rheves if you want, but Captain Ike goes unharmed. If that’s not good enough, I could always inform someone higher up the chain of command about this.”
“Now, there’s no need for that. But your request isn’t out of possibility.”
“Good.”
They shook on it.

Enjoy.

oooh!! Conspiracy! This is shaping up to be a good climax. Can't wait for more!

453 A.D.C.
Seventh Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, the Shilto Plate

Captain Ikellin looked over the hand-drawn schematics of the warren that were sprawled about on the table before him. Megas, Gilgas, Sketacha, and several other Diramali commanders, one of which Ikellin was positive was a Dragoon Paladin. There were also two Deep-men Sanx chieftains. Unlike their relatives to the north, Deep-men Sanx had mottled grey skin with splashes of white instead of uniform tar black. They were also built a bit sturdier and a bit larger than the more slender northern variety.
“So, let me get this straight: We control everything in the first seven levels, correct?”
“Yes.” Sketacha answered.
“Which is the bottom of the pit, correct?”
“Yes.”
“So basically you’re stuck in this cavern here on the eighth level.” He pointed to the corresponding spot on one of the maps.
“There was a large rockfall in the center of the cave. There’s no way around it and there isn’t enough room to send our enough men to the other side to wipe out the demon presence and secure the whole cavern.”
“What about the Paladins?”
“We’re soldiers, captain, not gods.” The man who appeared to be a Paladin said. “For a force of demons that size we’d need a full six-man squad of Paladins and we have only enough room to send them one at a time. They’d be mauled within seconds.”
Ikellin stroked his chin, deep in thought.
“What about this passage?” Megas said, pointing to a snake-like line that ran under the large cavern. “They look like they go right around to the other side.”
“They’re totally filled with water. Impassible.”
The pirate captain smiled.
“Nothing is impassible, commander. Some of my crew and I would be able to swim through, take out the demons on the other side, and secure the cavern.”
“That’s totally improbable. How would you carry enough weapons and armor? The weight would drown you. And there would be no light: we have precious few electric torches as it is.”
“You underestimate us pirates.” Gilgas said. “All we need are a gun or two, a sealed can of ammo, a couple blades, and a phorshis crystal lamp. And we don’t need armor. Armor is useless against these things. Armor can stop a sword or a bullet, but it can’t stop a two hundred kilo monster from tearing your arm off and snapping your neck with its bare hands. We’re going to do this.”
“I suppose there’s no stopping you, then.”
“My warriors will go with you.” one of the Sanx chieftains said through the help the translator Diramel had hired. The vast majority of Deep-men, being cut off by the Teirgadasar Mountains, did not even speak or understand Sanchex, much less Anamic, and the majority of their northern brethren did not know the Deep-men’s consonant-heavy tongue of Rvengrighkr. Ikellin wanted to tell the Diramali top brass that one of his crew could speak Rvengrighkr with far more fluency than the translator, but kept his mouth shut out of politeness.
“I trust you have soldiers down in the cavern.”
“In what we have secured, yes.”
“Tell them to be on alert. I can’t tell you when the bullets will fly, but I can guarantee that they will.”
“Sir!” a messenger burst through the door to the meeting room. “An enemy vessel has been found forty kilometers north of our position!”
“What?” Sketacha exclaimed.
“I have it straight from Captain Lusre of the Dawning. He and Hiraz Botomin’s squadron engaged the ship at 0856 hours this morning.”
“Diet Dr. Pepper. It’s nine-twenty right now…Any intel on the other ship?”
“No, other than that we believe it to be pirate vessel and its name is the Cache of Gold.”
“Cache of Gold…that means it must be…” Megas started.
“Rheves.” Ikellin finished his statement. “Cirrine was right after all.” He turned to face the messenger. “What was the status of the battle when you got the message?”
“The Dawning had received light damage and one of the fighters was lost…”
“No! I mean the Cache!”
“Heavy damage to the forward hull and three of the engines were destroyed…”
“Wait…three engines…that ship only has five. Did it go down?”
“I was getting to it. Yes, the Cache of Gold was shot down.”
“Did they take any captives?”
“I think so.”
“Did they or didn’t they?”
“Wait, yes, they did! A few crewmen…and the captain…he’s a Marudem…I think his name is Reesh…or Rez…”
“Rheves. Of course he would still be alive.” He turned to Sketacha. “Get the Dawning here pronto. I need to discuss a few things with Captain Chakalaas.”

Interesting. Can't wait for more.

453 A.D.C.
Seventh Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, the Shilto Plate

A group of twenty or so pirates milled around Spirit’s cargo hold, preparing the supplies needed for their swiftly approaching mission. Ikellin was sitting on a crate, cleaning out his shotgun when Rheves appeared, cuffed and flanked by a half dozen Diramali soldiers. Besides a noticeable cut on his forehead and a general roughing-up, he was in good shape. His expression was one of incredible irritation; one Ikellin had seen many times before, usually after the other captain’s almost signature rage had cooled off to a low flame, so to speak.
“You can just leave him here.” Ikellin instructed the soldiers. “He won’t go anywhere.” The soldiers uncuffed the pirate captain and left the cargo hold.
“How am I not surprised to find you here?” Rheves grumbled as he rubbed his chafed wrists.
“Mainly because I always end up getting you out of situations like this.”
“Yeah. Nice job on that.”
“The sarcasm is undeserved. I already spoke to Commander Sketacha here, and he’s agreed to give you the same deal he gave us: you help us clear out that warren, you get a cut of the cash, you go home a free man. And you don’t get turned in to the Imperium, which is always a plus.”
“So I guess I have no choice in this.”
“Not really. But personally, I’d prefer facing a couple hundred savage monsters than the Royal Executioner. Basically, the plan is this: the Diramali soldiers are pinned down in one cavern down there with demons on the other side. We swim through a flooded passage, come up behind the rockfall, secure the area, and let them through. Then we just head along from there.”
“Figures. You sign your crew up for a suicide mission.”
“Eh, you’re the one for taking unnecessary risks, not me. Hell, you were the one who tried sneaking around in that rust bucket Cache of Gold. Now grab yourself some gear. We head down in a couple hours.”
“I’m not on your crew.” He replied indignantly.
“And I believe you owe me the debt for saving your life multiple times. Thought you had more honor than that.”
Rheves was silent for a moment.
“Very well then. I’m in.”
“Good.” Ikellin pumped the loading mechanism on his shotgun for a test. “Heh, the sweet chorus of a shotgun singing ‘bang, you’re dead’.”

Ikellin's very persuasive. I like him

Hebes24 wrote:Ikellin's very persuasive. I like him

Yeah, I think he might be my favorite character out of all the ones I've ever made. And the cool thing is, I did not design him to be as freaking awesome as he is, he just sorta came out that way.

plasmoidmonkey wrote:And the cool thing is, I did not design him to be as freaking awesome as he is, he just sorta came out that way.

Haha, funny how characters can sort of "create themselves". cool.

431 A.D.C.
Eighth Day of the Moon of Endless Snows
Unamed island in the Idralic Ocean

The bottom of the lifeboat scraped the sandy shore. Ikellin leapt out over the side, his boots splashing in the light surf as he surveyed the island through the light drizzle. The beach they had landed on went inland for about five meters before it was stopped by a thick, tropical forest of towering palms and massive underbrush plants. As far as he could tell, the general area of the entire island was about three square kilometers. The young pirate turned around to look at the lifeboat he had arrived in. It was made of sturdy wood, and though it could hold up to fifteen people, it only brought four to the island: Mwo Saph, Cirrine Feren, and the greenhorns Rheves Chakalaas and Ikellin Bara’dogo, who were now all standing on the beach.
“So, any idea where in the hell we are?”
“No clue, Cirrine. I wasn’t on the bridge when we were hit.”
“Pfuh, yeah, right. I don’t think anybody was on bridge when we got hit. What sort of idiot captain is capable of getting his ship hit by a lighting bolt right in the engine room?”
“Just be glad that it just caught fire and didn’t explode.”
“You should just be glad that you don’t find my foot up your Diet Dr. Pepper in a second, Rheves.”
“Just quit it, you two. That isn’t helping… Mwo, what do our supplies look like?”
“Um…” the Sanx began to root through the emergency supply locker. “Yeah, here we go…we have enough hardtack and water to last all four of us for, I say, about three weeks, a big machete, three small daggers, a backup pistol with a twenty-round can of ammo, a first-aid kit, two flare rounds, and a notebook and stylus.”
“That’s good for a start. We should find out if there’s a spring on this island or not before anything else…”
“Wait a minute here, Ike. I’ve got the most experience of the lot of us. That means I’m in charge.”
“A statement just nullified by that petty comment. If you have suggestions, it helps if you actually say them so the rest of us know what to do.”
“You do almost as good a job as Rheves here at pissing me off.” Cirrine cracked her knuckles threateningly. “Don’t push it.”
Ikellin was unperturbed.
“All talk, Cirrine. Nobody can irritate you like Rhe…” he cut off midway through his sentence.
“What? What is it?” Mwo inquired.
“There’s something moving around in the undergrowth right behind us.” Ikellin said in a whispered voice.
“It’s probably just a bird. You worry too much…” Rheves said before a knee-high blur shot out of the jungle and tackled the Marudem to the ground. Rheves’ yells were clearly audible over the creature’s screeching as he tried to fight it off.
“What the hell? Get it off! Get it off, Diet Dr. Pepper!” he bellowed as he attempted punching the thing in its face. Ikellin grabbed one of the lifeboat’s oars and smashed the creature with it repeatedly, knocking it off of his friend’s chest. As he raised his paddle for another blow, a gunshot rang out and the creature crumpled into the sand. Mwo Saph held the smoking pistol.
“What in the hell was that thing?” Rheves gasped as he righted himself up. All four of the pirates moved closer to inspect the body.
The creature looked somewhat insectoid with a deep green striped exoskeleton. Its mouth was big enough to bite off an average person’s head and swallow it whole, with three rows of shark-like teeth. Its four legs were stubby, albeit muscular. Mwo’s shot had torn open its right temple.
“Bloody sh’ït.” Ikellin swore. “This is a sqomak. Quick, grab whatever you can and let’s get the hell out of here. We got ten minutes at the most before the scent of blood attracts the rest of the hive and there’s a feeding frenzy on our hands. Move!”

453 A.D.C.
Seventh Day of the Moon of First Frost
Soandad, the Deep South, the Shilto Plate

The ground of twenty-five pirates and ten Deep-men Sanx stood around the pool of water in the cramped space. The cave was unbearably hot, incredibly claustrophobic, very dusty, but not very dark, as it was lit by the phorshis crystal lamps scattered among the pirates and Deep-men. Each being there had their weapons of choice, a can of ammo, and a SABA, or Sub-Aquatic Breathing Apparatus. Each SABA was a watertight, pressurized, air-filled device worn like a backpack. The swimmer would inhale through the hose that ran to the pack and exhale through their nose.
“All right people, let’s get a move on.” Ikellin said as he placed the hose inside his mouth and slid into the pool.
The water was icy cold, a welcome respite from the suffocating caves, but still uncomfortable. Ikellin grit his teeth and held up his lantern as he began to swim forward and other pirates entered the water behind him. The tunnel was, thankfully, large enough to swim through without much trouble as long as one did not run into a stray stalagmite. The white-green light of the crystal lamps shed a beautifully eerie light on the walls that shimmered and danced as they continued to swim forward.
The minutes passed with monotony. Inhale through the mouth, exhale through the nose. Ikellin kept an eye on the roof of the cave, looking for the pool that would be their exit. The cold was numbing, but he continued to swim onward. The other pirates and Deep-men followed behind him closely.
Roughly twenty minutes and half a kilometer from where they had started, Ikellin saw the opening in the tunnel. He swam up to it, lifted his head out of the water, spat the hose from his mouth, and set his lantern on the rim. Dripping, soaked, and thankful to be back in the stifling heat, he pulled himself up on shore. Taking up his lantern again, he surveyed the room.
The grotto was bigger than the one they had started in, but looked mostly the same: a natural cavern dotted with stalactites and stalagmites, with some sections that had been roughly clawed out by the warren’s demon inhabitants. A few scattered side-passages and chambers dotted the cave, but one at the far end was the focus of the captain’s attention. The cramped tunnel led upwards, by Ikellin’s reckoning, right to where they were headed. More pirates and Deep-men were pulling themselves out of the pool as well. Ikellin’s headcount counted thirty: all accounted for. A pile of SABAs was beginning to form a couple meters from the pool’s edge: the bulky backpacks would simply hinder movement in a fight. The pirates began opening their ammo cans and loading their weapons as quietly as possible. Being pirate weaponry, the guns were specifically modified to prevent jamming or other damage when submerged or otherwise exposed to the elements. Ikellin waited patiently for the group to ready themselves. He didn’t have to wait long, as they were quickly prepared. The captain motioned for them to follow him as he made his way towards the specified passage. It was tall enough to walk through without stooping, but only wide enough for the group to walk single-file with a few spots where they would have to squeeze through sideways. Ikellin led the procession up the spiraling passageway, lantern in one hand, loaded pistol in the other. The captain was soon very glad that he was not claustrophobic.
About fifty meters up, the passage opened up to a small ledge overlooking a very large cavern. At least seventy demons looked up at the crystal lamp that had suddenly flushed the cave with light. As their eyes adjusted to the brightness and they identified the people on the ledge, they began to howl murderously and jump around. Some began clumsy attempts at clambering up the cave walls to get at the ledge.
“Alright, boys, you know the drill.” Ikellin said calmly as a half-dozen long-rifle wielding pirates took up positions on the shelf. “Aim for the heads, chests if they’re too small. We’re doing this op economically: if you run out if ammo there won’t be any more until the Diramali soldiers break through that rockfall.” As he spoke, a lanky, pale-skinned demon that had been shimming up a stalagmite ahead of its brethren leapt at the pirates with a fearsome snarl. Ikellin nonchalantly swung out his shotgun with an artistic twirl. The point-blank impact with a cartridge of shot tore through the demon’s torso and sent the carcass spinning down to the cavern floor. As soon as it hit the ground, another pair of demons jumped on the body and began eating it.
“Well, that’s convenient. Kill the ones on the far side first. Fire!”
A volley of gunshots cracked and echoed through the cavern, hitting several demons on the opposite side of the cave. Ikellin noticed that Shym had hit one right in the jugular, causing blood to pour out of the wound. Naturally, the other demons went into a feeding frenzy on their fallen. With the demons distracted and the snipers providing covering fire, other pirates fastened grappling hooks on stalagmites or the cavern wall and slid down to the floor, followed by the rest of the group. They opened fire as soon as their boots touched dirt. The demons, realizing that there was more food to be had in the cavern, turned and charged at the pirates. The cavern turned into a deafening cacophony of reverberating gunfire.
Ikellin took down another demon with his shotgun, gave the weapon a pump, loaded another shell in the chamber, and took aim at the next closest demon. He was just about to fire before Azi beat him to it.
“That was my kill!” The captain shouted as he blew another demon’s head off.
“You just have to be quicker next time!”
The battle started to die down after maybe ten minutes. The demons were getting slaughtered, the pirates unharmed. There were only four left when more roars were heard from the two other passages that led into the large cavern. More were coming. A lot more. The snipers on the ledge took out the remaining four as the pirates and Deep-men took up positions with their backs to the rockfall.
“Where they hell are they?” Rheves grumbled to the other captain as he checked his ammo. “I’m running low here.”
“No idea.” Ikellin glanced up at the small opening at the top of the rockslide. “Those bastards better not have double-crossed us.”
“Won’t do us much good either way.”
Demons began pouring into the cavern by the hundreds. Enraged into a bloodlust by the scent of the battle, they ignored the corpses that littered the floor. They could wait for the food. They wanted blood, and they wanted it now. The pirates did their best to take out the front runners, but it was apparent that they were far outnumbered. The demon force was within thirty meters before there was a massive explosion in their midst, sending smoldering bodies and rocky shrapnel into the air. Ikellin looked up at the rockslide to see a Diramali soldier climb through the small opening, reloading another round into his shoulder-mounted mortar. He was followed by another soldier wielding a large machine gun, who began providing suppressing fire. Four other soldiers, all heavily armed, came after him. Two followed the machine-gunner to the pirate position, where they strafed out and peppered the area with bullets, where the other two stayed up on the rockfall and covered with a sniper rifle and another mortar. All six soldiers were wearing light armor, a necessity in the heat, but from their tactical precision and their white and gold fatigues, they were clearly Dragoon Paladins.
Even those six soldiers began to turn the tide. A line of bodies like pebbles at a beach’s tidemark stretched across the cavern. Every few seconds another Diramali soldier would come through to provide extra ammo or extra firepower.
The gunfire did not stop for at least another fifteen minutes. When it finally, did, it was replaced with an eerie silence. Or, it should have been, for most of the pirates, soldiers, and Deep-men had a sharp ringing in their ears would probably last for roughly the next several hours. A digging crew was hard at work at widening the hole in the rockfall, and supplies had been distributed amongst the fighters.
Ikellin took a long swing from the canteen, enjoying every last drop. His throat was burned by both the atmosphere and the acrid gunpowder fumes that filled the cavern. The pirate captain sat against a twisted stalagmite, his crewmen close by.
“Just did a head count, Captain.” Megas said as he walked back to the group and sat down. “We’re all here. No casualties.”
“I have to admit, Ike, your boys are talented.” Rheves looked at the mass of demon bodies that littered the floor of the cavern. “Course, talent won’t help us in a couple hours when those things really start to stink.”
“I never volunteered us for cleanup duty. That’s Diramel’s problem.” Ikellin said, smiling. “Here’s a toast to the poor sods who have to tidy up our mess.”
The pirates clanked their tin canteens together with a resounding “Aye!”

Great battle scene, and the Flashback is getting interesting as well. Keep up the excellent work!

431 A.D.C.
Tenth Day of the Moon of Endless Rains
Unamed island in the Idralic Ocean

“Hey! We got a ship off the eastern horizon!” Ikellin shouted from atop a palm tree. It was not the first sighting of a dot on the horizon in the three moons that they’d been stranded, but this one was special. This particular dot did not look like it was moving: That meant that it was coming directly at them.
“You sure?” Rheves shouted from the campsite below.
“Yeah I’m sure! And it’s headed this way!”
“Are you Diet Dr. Pepper kidding me?”
“Hell no! I can’t act that well!” Ikellin laughed. “We are outta here!” He pumped his fist.
Down on the ground, Rheves let out a loud celebratory whoop and promptly kissed Cirrine with extreme passion, an action that was followed by the latter beating the former over the head, but not before enjoying the gesture for a second or two.
Ikellin nimbly slid down the tree.
“Finally, somebody actually saw the smoke from the signal fire. I gotta go tell Mwo…”
“Tell Mwo what?” The Sanx walked right out of the forest into the campground. One of the lifeboat’s paddles was slung over his shoulder, the freshly beaten-to-death carcass of a sqomak tied to it.
“There’s a ship out there, Mwo, and it’s seen our signal fire!” Rheves said cheerfully as he rubbed his sore cranium.
The Sanx’s face showed no change in emotion.
“But, uh, they might not be friendly.”
“You still thinking straight, Mwo? We’re the ones who are pirates.”
“But we are pirate younglings.”
Ikellin hated to admit it, even to himself, but the Sanx had a point. If it was a merchant vessel, they were home safe. If it was a pirate vessel, the opposite was true, mainly due to the fact that the only thing more deadly to a pirate than the law is another pirate. Rheves, however, had a different opinion on the matter.
“Why would you, now of all times, inject San xpessimism into the subject. No more sleeping under a pile of dirt, no more nearly getting eaten by sqomaks, no more having to eat sqomaks.” He gestured to the dead creature tied to the oar.
“All that I am saying is that we should be careful.”
“And all I am saying is that we are off this island!”
“Hey, hey, whoa, guys, we’ve survived three moons without killing each other, let’s not start when there’s a ship on the horizon.” Ikellin said, stepping between the two.
“Eh, I’m going to go wait by the signal fire.” Rheves sauntered off in the direction of the column of smoke. Mwo simply shrugged and sat down to gut the group’s lunch.

Ikellin stood on the edge of the cliff where the island’s largest hill dropped steeply to the beach. The tiny dot of a ship was closer now; it would probably be there within an hour or so.
Being stranded on an island with two whole hives of sqomaks and surviving for three moons would be a feat for any hardened pirate, an act of the gods for everybody else. Even with their squabbles, the pirates had managed to set up a camp on the opposite side of the island, ironically in an abandoned sqomak hive. Given that sqomaks are repulsed by the stench of rotting fruit, the first order of business was walling off their projected campsite with piles of fruit that they had harvested. It was saddening to see such food go to waste, but it kept the sqomaks away and kept them alive. It wasn’t totally secure, but it was enough to let them sleep at night. With someone on watch duty, of course.
Fortunately, there were plenty of fruit trees on the island, a nearly limitless supply of meat via sqomak, and a small spring, albeit uncomfortably close to one of the hives. With food, water, and shelter cared for, the pirates built a large signal fire, using the smoke by day and the flames by night to signal any nearby ships. Keeping it lit through the night and the misty mornings that followed turned to be an exhausting task, and the fire had gone out many times.
But they had survived thankfully without any great injury, from sqomak or self-inflicted. There were several tussles between Rheves and Cirrine, though Ikellin had twice run across the pair making out in a secret burrow in the mound of spit-hardened dirt that served as the group’s shelter. There were also plenty of run-ins with the sqomaks: occasionally a lone scout would slip through their net of rotting fruit, though one moon previously the entire hive had raided the pirates’ campsite. Ikellin classified that particular event under ‘guaranteed cure for constipation’.
“Been one hell of a three moons, Ike.” Cirrine said as she walked up beside Ikellin. “Gives life off this island a bit of nostalgia, doesn’t it?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“Aw, come on now.” She ruffled his hair playfully. “We both know you’re always happier when you’re on a ship.”
“Read me like a book Cirrine.” He smiled. “But…sometimes I wonder if I was cut out for this life.”
“Ike, you were tailor made for the life of a pirate. Tailor made. I’ve seen a lot of people come and go, but you got more potential than all of them, kid. You’re going to end up big. You could easily become captain of your own ship one day. Hell, you might even get a fleet.” She gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “Ike, you’re a pirate, and a Diet Dr. Pepper good one.”
“Thanks.” He said, blushing slightly. He looked back out at the approaching ship. “You’re right, you know: It was one hell of a three moons.”
But that was all behind them now. There was a ship coming.