Startup 76: Understaffed

The buzz of adrenaline kept Syl moving, but tremors ran down her arms. She couldn’t hit anything anymore; just flesh, never anything useful. If she couldn’t hit anything of value, she was in a bad place. There was a certain amount of value in bloodletting anyone who got too close, but not enough to actually win. When Cog went down, Syl gave up on winning. She was trying to survive. Maybe even flee.

The cultists weren’t here to kill Syl, they were here to get past her. When she kept stepping back down the hallway, never letting them get close but also no longer attacking, eventually they all understood. She was fleeing, and before long she wasn’t a threat to them anymore. They lost interest, dismissing her as a threat. The cultists snatched the key from Cog’s belt and fumbled with the door.

She was about to cut and run when a smirking face came around the corner. Varossa's crossbow was slung over a shoulder, and she twirled a short iron headed mace like a baton. Syl looked into her dark, soulless eyes. Her smile was so out of place as she stepped over the corpses of her minions.

“I don’t think so.” Varossa said. “Drop your weapons and you can be a prisoner. I could always use a hostage.”

Syl snarled something incoherent, and bolted. She didn’t have a plan, exactly. That part of her brain had no real say at the moment. The best she could think was that she needed to go get help. She wanted to find Emrys. Emrys would solve this, in some stupid and incredible way. He always did.

She was **** to slow down for just a moment when she reached the door to the deck. Varossa’s mace cracked the back of her head, and even those vague thoughts vanished.

••••••••••

Naomi wanted to go back to Aaron or her mother’s prison, but she knew where she could do the most good. She’d been hearing a rhythmic thump from the crew quarters since shortly after she’d screamed, and that meant someone was trying to get out or get in. In either case, they needed help. If she could get everyone back into the fight, the numbers game would flip in the crew’s favor.

She shadowed Mr. Rust, a hulking figure shrouded in a cloak of stained sailcloth. She commanded the golem through the ring, and with any luck no one would even notice she was present. The door into the common room was slightly ajar, allowing the clanking beast to burst in and command every eye.

“Gods damn it!”

Naomi heard Creed's angry yell, followed by a loud thump, the sound of shattering glass, and a loud crack of breaking wood. She peeked through the doorway from down the hall, and saw a huge billowing cloud. It was like fine greenish yellow flour, stirred into a swirling frenzy by every minute brush of air. Glass glittered

“Get back away from the door!” Someone yelled from inside the women’s room.

“You heard the lady. That stuff looks like trouble.” Milo said, “Best to let the heap of junk handle this one. Him and whatever the hell that is.”

Naomi watched with horrified fascination as Filli slowly pressed her way through a hole far too small for her. Huge swathes of pink and red flesh were exposed as she scraped off her outermost layer of fur to reach out towards Creed. She reached as far as she could, then withdrew back into the women’s quarters. Naomi heard the sound of an axe splitting wood.

“Oh, to the hells with this!” Creed sputtered, and rushed for the door out of the common room, towards Naomi.

She mentally set Mr. Rust to block the big man’s path, and succeeded in delaying him. That wouldn’t be enough on its own, so she raised her gun I’m shaking hands and pointed it at Creed. She’d never used one of these things, but Milo had. The splash of blood when one of Mr. Rust’s bladed hands scraped across Creed’s chest was so very red, she nearly winced at the blood alone.

She couldn’t bring herself to fire, not until Creed made his way past the golem. Then, suddenly, the massive man was barreling down the short hallway towards her. It didn’t feel like she was in control of her hands when she pulled the trigger, but nor did it feel like Milo. The shotgun kicked in her hands, and blood poured from the front of Creed’s torso.

She knew Milo wasn’t controlling her hand when she pulled the trigger. If anything he interfered, pulling her off hand away to cover her mouth with her dress and shoving her around a corner the second the gun fired.

“I told you!” He hissed, “That stuff is trouble, Dame. Stay back.”

Creed nearly tripped over Naomi as he barreled past, but he seemed more focused on getting away from Filli than anything else. He swiped the dust away from his face, frantically drinking from a flask he’d kept in his belt pouch. By the time Naomi had scrambled to her feet, Filli had burst through the door, scattering splinters across the floor.

“Guys!” One of the women, Naomi thought her name might be Toppin, yelled. “Don’t break down the door. The rat girl and the crazy bald guy covered the common room with poison!”

Filli met Naomi’s eyes, and without really thinking about it Naomi raised one hand. Just as the Fiend Constellation granted the power to call flames to anyone who called upon it, all members of the Scholar Constellation shared an ability that spoke to the group’s nature: the ability to speak any one language known to the spirits. That meant nearly any language in the universe, practically speaking.

“Was that a good idea?” Naomi signed, “Everyone trapped now.”

Filli froze, staring at Naomi’s hand in shock. She recovered and shook her head.

“I fight better than them all.” She signed back, confident words flowing into Naomi’s mind in a surprisingly soft voice, “You know where he go? Bad time for talk.”

Milo snorted, looking at Filli’s already healed scrapes.

“Girl after my own heart.”

Naomi nodded, held out the enchanted spear to Filli, and ordered Mr. Rust to follow.

“Right,” she said. “They’re after my mother, I think. They want her out.”

Filli nodded, took the spear, and didn’t wait for more information. She slipped past Naomi, side stepping her effortlessly despite her bulk, and made a beeline for her targets. As she did, the spear grew to fit her hand as a long, one handed weapon.

••••••••••

PREPARE. TRUST. RESCUE.

Lubo heard the sounds of battle right outside her door. Her lord didn’t see fit to explain, as he never did, but she knew her time in the cabin was coming to a close. She’d only known for a few minutes, but she had been hoping for this moment to come. She tossed anything she had which was of value into a small box that, with any luck, she’d be able to carry out.

A few dresses, the small wooden seal of Vishgurv she’d been carving with her claws over the last few days, her hairbrush and other such toiletries, a crude portrait Naomi had once painted for her, a handful of coins, a bit of food she’d set aside from her meals, the broken chair leg that could serve as a club if nothing else presented itself… all went into the box. She owned very little, in truth. She barely owned herself.

By the time the door opened with a click to reveal her disciples, Lubo had the jumbled chest closed and fastened, and stood ready for whatever came next. Her lord had blessed her with his normal well rounded compliment of spells, not ones specifically tailored to a battle, so she suspected that he had been surprised by this development as well. She held her club in one hand, and one handle of her trunk in the other.

“Miss Lubo!” Her students called out to her, opening the door. “We have to go before the captain gets back. He’s going to kill you!”

That seemed unlikely to Lubo, but she nodded regardless. What he’d done instead was nearly as cruel, in her view. She strode forward into the hallway, and saw a scene of carnage. Multiple husks of her disciples lay strewn about the floor, abandoned for better forms hand crafted by her lord.

One of her students, one of the girls, was bleeding heavily from a wound in the back, but she was still alive and in her war form to pin down that Dwarf, Narwhal. Lubo fished in her pocket for the seal of Vishgurv to channel his power to heal the poor girl.

Let her die. I will embrace her.

Lubo nodded at the girl sympathetically. She would have liked to put her out of her misery, but that seemed likely to upset everyone. She kicked Narwhal in the face instead, and knelt beside the girl.

“It’s ok,” she whispered. “After the pain, you will be reborn.”

“Finished with the tearful reunion yet?” Called a woman from down the hall. “I’m afraid we have little time to waste. M’Dair is unlikely to take this lying down.”

Lubo looked up to see Varossa. The tall woman strolled down the hallway with a swagger in her step, Syl slung over her shoulder.

“I told you this would happen eventually, Lubo.” Varossa said, “I tried to get him to just let you go, but he didn’t want to lose control of these fine people. Have you reconsidered my offer yet?”

Play along. This woman and I have an arrangement.

Lubo stood and nodded. She wasn’t entirely sure what lies this woman had told the others, but her lord bid her to obey. She turned to pick up her chest.

“I suppose we will be leaving?” Lubo asked. “This ship was only ever a convenience for us, after all.”

“No.” Varossa said. “I have need of this ship. Your people may be fine without it, but mine can always use another vessel. Not to mention those fellows in the quarters. M’Dair will pay well for them, then we can all walk away happy.”

She smiled at her victory over Captain M’Dair, so complete and so cruel. Lubo recognized it. Dula smiled like that, early on, whenever he got his way. Back when she’d still tried to fight him. The memory was enough for Lubo to hate her.

In time, if you outstrip her, you can kill her. For now, she is more valuable to me than you are.

Lubo nodded, and Varossa thought it was a nod for her. It might as well be; she had been lent to this woman, so her commands were law. Very well.

“Varossa!” Echoed around the corner, followed by Creed, “They’re getting out. That big rat, she woke up before it could fully seal the room, then someone with a golem attacked me while I was trying to figure out an alternative.”

“No wonder you arrived late,” Varossa answered with a sigh. “We’d best round up the others, then. Hopefully they have enough discipline not to have their way with that girl in the middle of a mutiny.”

She directed the men to drag Cog and Syl into the brig, and with a quick flick of her mace she shattered Narwhal’s shoulder, the one on his good side. She stood on his neck, with her crossbow pointed down, and smiled at the hulking beast that rounded the corner less than a minute after Creed.

••••••••••

I couldn’t stay, and I couldn’t accompany them. The Callistrians would help or they wouldn’t, there wasn’t much more I could do. I wanted to rush to my ship and burn my last two spell points on something or other, but what would be the point? I was already on my last legs, and I didn’t have any more clever tricks.

I managed to slip away in the confusion as a handful of the sentinels and administrators put together a team. (Stealth 15+13=28) Before the door even closed behind me, I saw a streak of amber light flying out of one of the higher windows. A wasp, visible in the moonlight to my darkvision.

Probably Dindreanne. She’s a bitch, but she’s also a mother. Or maybe it’s literally just her wasp; that thing sure as hell wasn’t a normal bug.

I slipped from shadow to shadow back to the dorm, where I trudged through the halls, coming down from my adrenaline rush. I walked right up to the guards, not entirely sure what they’d think, and not caring too much. I was a guest, and Ve’ra waved me into my quarters where we closed the doors and she pestered me about what happened.

“Got in a fight.” I said, “Rowe and Conchobar are ok. Not sure about the rest. Lost an artifact, and got a new one. I need you to go see what you can do, now. Get to the ship, see if you can provide help. It might be all over by the time you get there, but it’s worth a shot.”

“That bad?” She asked, the fake me melting away into a red eyed silhouette, “I’ll do what I can, but you know I’m not a fighter.”

“You can still do more than me at this point.” I said, stripping off my bloodied shirt.

I’m going to need to hide this in my inventory or destroy it. I’m hoping they’ll be willing to look past my behavior, but that’s not exactly a sure thing.

I dismissed Ve’ra and called her back as a sustained eidolon. I really hoped her help wouldn’t still be needed in 15 minutes, but if it was then I’d be completely out of spell points. She slipped out past the guards, who asked what the hell I was doing.

“I sent my familiar to check on my ship.” I said, settling next to the fireplace. “I have a bad feeling. Is that forbidden?”

“No, I guess not.” One of them, I think her name was Salem, said, “You’ve just been really active tonight.”

She glared at me, which was reasonable. I was wet, dirty, shirtless, and had a deep puncture in my side that was only partially closed from Infernal Healing. No one was going to believe I’d been quietly sitting in my room. I wasn’t even going to try to hide it at this point, but it was still at a point where it could be swept under the rug without anyone losing face.

“Do whatever you want.” I said, “The night’s still young.”

It was probably for the best that I was cold and wet, and that the eternal fireplace didn’t actually produce much heat. The Shackles in general didn’t seem to get cold enough to be dangerous very often, so there was no need for real fire most of the time, just a few enchanted coals. The discomfort kept me awake, which was important. I might have felt like I was sitting around in a chair doing nothing while my friends were still in danger, but I was keeping Ve’ra active in this world. If I let myself fall asleep, she’d wink out.

I can sleep when it all calms down. Not a second before. It’s the least I can do.

••••••••••

“Stop right there, mutant.” Varossa said, “Or this dwarf-“

“Fuck her up, Filli!” Narwhal shouted, “She’s planning on-“

Naomi heard the thud and a moan of pain from the dwarf, and was glad she couldn’t see the scene past Filli and Mr. Rust blocking the narrow hallway. Despite Narwhal’s command, Filli was crouched, watching. She was probably trying to figure out her chances.

“As I was saying,” Varossa continued, “We will be taking this ship. If you would be so kind as to vacate the premises, I suppose I’ll allow you and your friends in the crew quarters to leave peacefully. If not, he dies, and so do Mr. Cogward and Miss Lonegan.”

“Alright, she’s got a pretty decent hand right now.” Milo said, “What do you want out of this? Also, do you think that rat girl can take these guys?”

Time seemed to slow down as Milo spoke to her, giving Naomi the time to work out her answer. She’d noticed the same when he’d walked her through the lock, like her body was moving through water.

“I think she might.” Naomi said, “I’m not actually sure if anything can actually hurt Filli.”

“Find out what can.” Milo advised, “That’s important information, Dame. Whether you’re with her or against her. Thinking you’ve got an immortal with you’s a good way to wind up dead.”

“I know.” Naomi said, feeling exceptionally small. “But if anyone can fight them, it’s Filli, and I don’t know if I can actually convince her not to try. Not when the captain is on the line.”

“Alright.” Milo said, “Use that.”

Naomi took a deep breath. If this was going to end any way except for a blood bath, it was up to her.

“I don’t think I can get Filli to agree to that.” Naomi yelled down the hall. “She’s very protective of the captain, and that’s likely to get him killed, if not worse. If you surrender without killing Narwhal, I imagine Captain M’Dair will spare you. He’s historically been very merciful.”

“Oh!” Varossa said, and Naomi could hear the mocking smile in her voice. “So the rat has the mouse with her. Congratulations, Miss Naomi, you’ve been quite a thorn in my side tonight. I’m afraid that unilateral surrender seems like an inconvenient path. You may need to work on your negotiation tactics.”

“Maybe.” Naomi said, “I’m not the one you need to convince, however, and I don’t think you are going to get any more help. The last I saw the men following me, they were running into an ambush.”

It had only been a few minutes and she’d avoided that hallway, but she doubted that the five cultists following her had run off to start looting. She hadn’t seen Aaron, either.

Please be ok.

Filli let out a long, low, growl. Naomi had never heard something like that out of her. She hoped it was just posturing; the other woman sounded like she was about to go on a feral rampage.

“Perhaps.” Varossa said. “Maybe I’m a betting woman. Maybe I just want to be sure I come out ahead tonight.”

“We are ready, Lady Lanteri.” Lubo said, “If we must fight.”

A clear, brutal image flashed through Naomi’s mind. Her mother was dangerous now. Very dangerous. Something in Milo’s instincts told her that, in a fight, she’d be the one he’d go for first. She was able to heal, and make her allies stronger. Filli seemed to know how to fight. She was smart. She’d think the same thing, and Naomi knew what Filli did to people she deemed a threat.

She steadied her breathing, so her next words wouldn’t sound like begging.

“Then leave.” Naomi said, “Just go. You’ve gotten my mother, why does anyone else need to get hurt? We aren’t in any state to follow you. Just leave the hostages and get off the ship.”

Naomi heard a faint buzzing from down the hallway, like a very large insect.

“Sounds like that’s from the hallway they’d need to get out.” Milo said.

“Hmm.” Varossa said, “Alright, might as well. Mr. Cogward and Syl are through this door. I’ve got the key right here. If you can keep your beast from attacking while my friends here make their exits, I’ll hand over the key.”

“Why in Nine Hells would you do that?” Creed demanded, “We can still take this ship.”

“Maybe,” Varossa said, “but your lives are quite valuable. I’d rather not take the gamble, not with that thing eyeing us like this.”

“Mother.” Naomi said, calling out, “You don’t have to go with her. We just want to keep you safe for a time. That’s all. You can even keep binding Vishgurv afterwards if you like. Just don’t go with that horrid woman.”

“Naomi, you should know better than to ask for me to hide away for a year.” Mother called back. “I am proud you found some strength, but I am not sacrificing all I have to your paranoia.”

Naomi’s heart fell into her feet.

“Then leave.” She said, “All of you just go; just don’t hurt anyone else. This was all just madness, for no reason. Leave Narwhal and the others. Don’t hurt anyone else.”

“You heard the girl.” Varossa said airily, “I don’t think we’ll be getting a better offer.”

Naomi heard a few shuffling steps down the hallway. They stopped when Filli stepped forward in a sudden but short lunge.

“Not girl captain.” She signed behind her back. “Give key first.”

“Hand over the key now,” Naomi said, “You have my word we will let you go after that.”

“I think not.” Varossa said with a laugh. “Emrys is a tricky fellow. I didn’t expect you of all people to be a protege for him, but I think I’ll keep you three here for now. I’ll open the door for you after the rest are off the ship; how about that?”

“Are you mad?” Creed said, “They could kill you, or worse!”

“Your concern is misplaced, Creed.” Varossa said. “I’m quite confident in my ability to escape without you all weighing me down. You remember where Hinson’s extraction point is? You can guide these fine folks to him, and Miss Lubo can call the Gillmen. Don’t wait for me, if I don’t arrive by the planned hour, it’s because I am dead.”

“Laying it on a bit thick, eh?” Milo said, clearly unimpressed. “Putting on a show for her new recruits.”

Even so, even knowing she was playing into Varossa’s hands, Naomi couldn’t think of anything better.

“Alright then.” She said, “Go, all of you except Varossa.”

Everyone filed out, and Naomi’s heart slowly stopped beating so hard. At least it was over. Varossa would let them into the brig, taking as long as possible so that they’d need to rush in and save Cog and Syl while she made her escape. Then, finally-

She heard the twang of a crossbow, and a horrible gurgle. Filli lunged forward.