Deadline

by Domino Finn

  "You're in a mood."

  "She's becoming a city girl," laughed Stigg.

  Caduceus gave the Viking an evil eye. "It's not that. It's just... I don't see what the rush is. Say we march right into the wetlands and find the horde. What then?"

  Dune gave a matter-of-fact shrug. "We report it to Trafford."

  "And then he orders a full-scale incursion into the bog? We're rushing into disaster."

  The Viking scoffed. "We have more fighters. And better ones, at that."

  "And they have the lay of the land, as much as we hate to admit it."

  The green ranger let silence take over as he mulled the options. It was true, he didn't have a complete plan. Then again, that was the beauty of taking orders. His responsibility was to do his job and do it well. His thoughts were interrupted by birds cawing ahead. Just as well: there was nothing to figure. "Talon's still working it out," he concluded aloud.

  "Isn't that part of the problem?" asked the medic. "This continual flying by the seats of our pants? Is everything really gonna work itself out?"

  "You're a control freak," said the ranger.

  "I'm a fan of control," she returned. "And I'm not sure we should've given ours up so easily."

  And there it was, the real reason Caduceus was so grumpy. She was having second thoughts about joining the Black Hats. The three hunters had weighed the option many times before and had always come back to the underlying urge to fly solo. Until yesterday.

  "Bah," said Stigg, "it's not that bad. They're good folk."

  "And it's the way the winds of Haven are blowing," reasoned Dune. The birds ahead made sharp noises as they scrapped amongst themselves. Even though they weren't in view yet, the ranger identified them as crows. "Look, we can still do whatever we want. Faction membership doesn't come with official duties."

  "For now," Caduceus mumbled.

  "We're just in it to help our friends. Talon would do the same for us."

  The physicker couldn't deny that point and ended the conversation with a curt nod. As the party rounded a ridge, Dune finally caught sight of the pack of crows fluttering on a mountain ledge. There was a lot of wailing and gnashing in their ranks, but they weren't fighting.

  "Wait here."

  The ranger deftly hopped up the steep terrain. The birds cawed at the intruder, but Dune shooed them away and converged on the peak. The congregation fluttered to the sky. Dune kneeled beside a dead crow with an arrow through its heart.

  It was a good shot. The ranger cracked the arrow and slid it from the limp body. He gently returned the crow to the ledge and nodded at the pack of birds. "Into the dirt we return."

  Dune skidded down the mountainside back to his party. On the way, he scanned the terrain and the sky, making several revolutions to take it all in.

  "What is it?" asked Caduceus.

  "I know this feathering. These flights are custom made. Serpico used these in the Wicked Crow."

  Stigg grunted. "The catechists."

  Dune nodded. "A hunting party. They came from the south. They must be desperate if they're taking down crows."

  Caduceus pursed her lips. "But this one fell too close to the road and they abandoned it. They're not that desperate."

  "Too much risk for so little gain." The ranger spied a cleft in the peaks and headed southward into the canyon.

  "Whoa," cautioned Stigg. "We're supposed to be searching for goblins."

  "We're supposed to be searching for threats," said their fearless leader.

  Caduceus sourly smacked her lips. "You do remember what happened last time we approached them alone?"

  "Last time we didn't have an army twenty minutes behind us."

  She huffed. "You're fixating on the bounty. What happened to being a team player?"

  The ranger smiled. "I told you, I'm my own man."

  1950 Uncharted Waters

  Admiral Errol Oates was, for the first time since joining the Black Hats, feeling like a legitimate admiral. Not only was he captain of the grandest vessel the Six Seas had ever known, he now had a fleet of three support frigates in tow. While the Brothers in Black were not an official part of his navy, the alliance would see them through the war. He was sure of it. The pirate's sun-strained face stretched into a smile as the wind whipped against it.

  Avisa came up from behind and leaned into his side. "Invigorates the skin, does it not?" Errol was acutely aware the woman was pressing her soft flesh into him. "Almost feels like old times."

  "In the old days, 'twas more than yer face that was feelin' the breeze." His gaze traced up her neck and locked longingly on her eyes. "I could order the deck cleared." He flashed his teeth. "Or not, if ye prefer."

  "I see command of the Void has already gone to your head." She took a breath and jutted out full lips that Errol knew were meant to be conciliatory. "We have an important mission, good captain, and being caught with our pants down, quite literally, would do us no good."

  The pirate snorted. "I don't need trousers t' fight!"

  The sergeant crossed her arms. "Ever the romantic. That's the Errol I know."

  "Don't hold it 'gainst me, Avi. Ye knows me disposition."

  Her eyelashes fluttered. "It's been a while since you called me that."

  "That it has," he said softly.

  "Don't expect me to suddenly swoon. You haven't changed a bit."

  "Not true," he protested. "Lookie, I got me a silver tooth now." He grinned wide to show off his dental upgrade. She scoffed and started to strut away, but Errol grabbed her arm. "Give me an inch, woman! I'm doin' me jolly best here."

  "I can give you the whole deck, if you like. Or maybe you need more space?"

  "Space? It was ye who left me, Avi! We were the roughest scallywags on the seas an' you had t' go mess that up an' take up with the Brothers in Black."

  She puffed her chest defensively. "It's a respectable profession."

  "No more respectable than bein' an independent pirate. We had somethin', you an' I."

  Avisa sighed, for the first time letting down her guard. "Do you truly not understand my mind, Errol? After all this, after joining the Black Hats yourself, can you not see the appeal of wanting to be a part of something? To know you have a future instead of bouncing from port to port?"

  The captain had no rebuttal. Avisa had always loved Shorehome, as did he. Taking up with Brugo was much less of a stretch than joining Talon, anyway. Even he couldn't argue that point.

  Avisa's pleading eyes told a larger story. Her desire to be a part of something applied to more than faction affiliation. Onetime lovers and cohorts, had they been destined for more? Sometimes Errol feared his keen stubbornness for independence was what had pushed Avisa away.

  "Given recent events," said Avisa wistfully, "I find myself questioning the future of the Brothers in Black. What is there left?"

  The pirate captain swallowed and avoided her gaze. For once in his life, he was at a true loss for words.

  Avisa huffed and pulled away to peer at the distant horizon. "Do you think Brugo's right about the kraken?"

  The captain glumly adjusted the waist of his pants. It was a sloppy change of subject, but effective. "Papa Brugo held the Squid's Tooth longer than any man, Hadrian included. If he says the kraken hunted the North Sea, the kraken hunted the North Sea."

  "But surely we should do more than sail westward. The ocean is vast and endless."

  "Not accordin' t' the players. They say a great blue wall encases the world."

  Avisa snorted. "Next they'll be saying the earth is flat."

  The pirates glanced at each other. Errol scratched his head. "Maybe 'tis, an' the blue wall is what holds the water in."

  Grug approached from the port side holding a telescope. "Captain, the coast is cutting northward."

  "Aye, I see it." Errol turned the wheel and steered the ship to match.

  Haven's continent was barely in sight. By his reckoning, it was their best guide. Sail as far north as they could whilst sighting the
coast on their port side, and keep watchful eyes to their starboard.

  Avisa slumped against a barrel of rum with a sigh. "How long do you suppose it'll take us to get there?"

  "No one goes t' the Maelstrom. It comes t' them."

  She splayed her hands in the air. "Then what's the purpose of sailing west at all?"

  "One needs t' put in an effort, woman! We can't just twirl our boots o'er the docks an' wish fer a great big hole t' open in the ocean!" Errol's chapped lips twisted under his teeth. "Besides, there's also the matter o' the sacrifice."

  Avisa's dark eyebrow arched. "And what be that, exactly?"

  The captain frowned and mumbled.

  "What's that?"

  "A ship," he said loudly. He glanced around the deck to see if his crew had heard, but they were busy tying ropes and swabbing the deck and wagering false eyes.

  The sergeant-at-arms of the Brothers in Black sharpened her features. "You mean to scuttle one of our support vessels?" She turned to the Void's wake and swallowed as she considered them. "I suppose the ships aren't fully manned. And the Waveskipper is still damaged from the coup. We could restaff its crew among—"

  "A flagship," clarified Errol. "The more massive, the better. She won't accept a support vessel. The Maelstrom swallows all but opens fer nothin' less than a legend." He grimly studied the sergeant. "She requires a flagship."

  Avisa blinked uncertainly. It was an odd show for the cocksure woman. A moment of hesitation. Even odder was that, for once, Errol wasn't excited by the fluttering lashes.

  The admiral pulled a worn nubuck glove from his hand and rested the naked skin on the wheel of the Void. The smooth wood was elegant and strong. She was a fine ship, to be sure. A respectable prize. And, in all likelihood, the second flagship Errol would lose in the span of a day.

  Hadrian's nose turned at the crispy mess in the blackened cage. A war hero equally admired and feared, Rygar was meant to be his general. Now, for some reason unknown to him, he wasn't even alive.

  As keepers combed the aviary and surrounding halls, the spymaster ignored all extraneous activity and closed his eyes. He tried feeling for the war hero again, searching the crevices of Oakengard, but Rygar was gone. Perhaps the NPC had been trapped or killed with a special of some sort.

  "God Emperor," called out one of his knights. Hadrian angrily opened his eyes.

  The man interrupting his scan was one of his least favorite soldiers. A born leader, a little heavy in the leading and light on the doing. Hadrian hated people like that, holding status they didn't work for, reveling in undeserved privilege. "What is it, Halpert?"

  "The Hall of Heroes—it's been breached. Colonel Grimwart is gone."

  Hadrian folded clawed fingers around the man's throat. "I will not have that name spoken aloud, Sergeant."

  The man squirmed under the encroaching pressure. "Y—y..."

  A pair of knights behind the sergeant straightened, eyes retreating to the floor. Hadrian smiled at their servitude and squeezed harder. Halpert's gurgles went silent as his face turned blue. In a final moment of defiance, he tried to fight back, push away his emperor, but it was too late. The sergeant went limp.

  [Halpert] is dead!

  Hadrian let the body drop to the floor. One of the knights flinched.

  "My prize in the cage is also missing," muttered the spymaster. "What are you doing about it?" His eyes met the man who had flinched.

  "Searching, God Emperor!"

  "Then get to it. Unless you prefer Halpert's company." Hadrian glanced at the dead man on the floor. The two soldiers skittered away as fast as they could.

  That was what he liked about the corrupting power of the soulstones. True obedience. Unfortunately, the purple energy came with drawbacks past sometimes spotty reliability. Hadrian once again closed his eyes and searched his fortress, this time focusing on Halpert. As he feared, the sergeant wasn't in the respawn queue.

  He'd seen this before Rygar and feared the eventuality, but it wasn't adequately tested yet. Hadrian's power was instinctual, not learned. It was something he felt in his core and went along with, like a rushing river. He could no more break down the programming of his abilities than a fish could analyze the molecules of water it breathed. It just was.

  At least now, at the moment of failure, Hadrian caught a message in the error log.

  >ReInit() memcpy: ERROR: invalid access at address 0xAFA43332

  The spymaster hissed. This was a programming glitch. A technical problem caused by a rigid system getting tripped up by the purple energy. Hadrian couldn't dissect this, but the instinct he so relied on revealed to him the truth, the weakness of his terrible power: his newly corrupted minions didn't respawn. He would've expected a fresh start, clean and uncorrupted, which was trouble enough as it was, but no. Once members of the Violet Order died, they simply disappeared.

  The obvious workaround was to corrupt more of the populace, to keep going until no one was left to kill his minions any more. Which meant taking care of Talon and the Black Hats. With the devs and Lucifer out of the way, it was only a matter of time before that clash occurred.

  But first thing first. Hadrian had a breach in Oakengard that needed to be sealed. The fast travel was locked, but he no longer trusted the guarantee of a code switch. Not where he was going.

  There was another way to solve the problem. A way to attack the breach from the other side. Hadrian chuckled as he drew the Eye of Orik from his inventory. The red gemstone shimmered and sent jagged vibrations through his arm. The stone itself was wild. It didn't want to be commanded.

  Hadrian grinned and welcomed the challenge.

  1960 BioShock

  I jolted awake. Butterflies twisted in my stomach as I desperately clawed at purchase to keep from falling.

  I froze, body still save for my frantic breathing. I shook off the stupor and slowly realized I wasn't in danger. What had felt like a tremor must've been part of a dream. I was safe now, on the floor of the war room.

  The memory came back to me. The void pearl was attacking—no. What had happened exactly?

  My eyes went to the sanctum master panel. The pearl was safe in its socket, but it no longer bubbled with life. It was inert now.

  On the other hand, I felt almost electrified. This was more than leftover adrenaline from a nightmare. I checked my character sheet for a sanity check.

  Talon

  Level

  10

  Class

  Explorer

  XP

  100287

  Kit

  Scout

  Next

  113400

  Strength

  18

  Strike

  390

  Agility

  24

  Dodge

  450

  Craft

  6

  Health

  300 / 300

  Essence

  10

  Spirit

  255 / 255

  Everything was normal there. In fact, I was the spitting image of health. Fully rested, free of afflictions. I'd even received a trickle of XP thanks to the shared brigade.

  But I'd lost the entire morning. The game clock confirmed I'd slept through to midday.

  Talon: Kyle, you guys holding up okay?

  Kyle: You're back!

  Errol: Ye left us high an' dry back there.

  Izzy: Back where? What happened?

  Trafford: Son of a gun, look who decided to check in.

  Talon: Guys, guys, hold up!

  I scrolled the captain chat back and saw request after request to coordinate with me.

  Talon: Sorry, everyone, just a little setback. Let's do this one at a time. How's my army doing?

  Trafford: Oh, just great without you. What would we need you for? We're just gonna be in pagan territory soon.

  Grimwart: What our cranky friend means to relay is we could use your presence by nightfall.

  Trafford: What the colonel said. Trust me, Talon, you
don't want me dealing with the goblins. I'm not what you'd call a people person.

  I chuckled.

  Talon: Fair enough.

  Dune: There's more news. I might have a line on our catechist friends.

  Talon: You found them?

  Dune: I'm not sure what I've found yet. But rest easy, I got this.

  I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that but I was half distracted by skimming the chat history. I let it go for now, eager to get updates from the rest of the team.

  Talon: Still searching for the Maelstrom, Admiral?

  Errol: Aye, an' it ain't the type o' task that can be rushed. What happened to ye before? Seemed t' me yer shadow magic threw ye fer a loop.

  Izzy: You're teleporting again? We talked about this.

  Talon: I have no choice. It was just a little hiccup. I'm fine.

  I searched the game log next, looking for any clues as to what actually happened.

  Izzy: Well, I suppose you'll be glad to know the wildkins are marching west.

  Talon: I saw the alliance notification. What's your take on the wild king?

  Izzy: Theoderic? He's a big softy. He knows what's at stake here.

  My eyes landed on the anomaly in the game log.

  You've acquired [Shadow Essence]

  That had happened hours ago, right when I'd blacked out. I nervously rushed to my inventory.

  Kyle: Oh, I see how it is. You're a chatty Kathy all of a sudden until it's time to talk to your old pal Kyle.

  Lash: Ugh. We recovered Hex. The brewmaster did all right. But Hadrian's back in the castle. By now he knows we killed his favorite pet. He'll come at us hard.