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FREELANCERS #36 - 10/16/24
(Apologies for the late send again. This one went through a lot of ideas and iterations that didn't come together until recently. As usual, I'd rather send something better late than rush to meet a deadline I give myself. Also as usual, this turned out longer than expected. But it's tons of fun! Anyway, enjoy!)
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Hello!
Hope you liked Willow's intro last month. She might show up again alongside the fireflies in Soten City at some point. Have an exciting idea for a Snatch-inspired heist book featuring them.
Here's a quick progress update, then a fun short story about pirate hijinks!
​Progress/Life Update
Don't know about you, but October is flying by.
I've finished the main editing pass on Freelancers Anthologies Vol. 1! Gonna do one last readthrough before the end of the month, format it, then conjure up a cool cover. Should have it ready for December. I appreciate you sticking around and being a part of my crazy world, so I'm toying with ideas for how best to get the ebook to freelancers for free. Will have a paperback version as well.
Other than that, looks like it'll be the first book of Nexus 99 for Nanowrimo next month. Looking forward to writing some cozy, comedic mystery.
Happy Turkey Day to my fellow Canadians and Happy Halloween. Hope you have a ball.
On to the story!
Hey, Freelancers!
Lina Ro'Shaer here with this month's Bullet Points.
It’s been an oddly quiet month, all things considered. A little too quiet.
The galaxy’s been behaving itself a bit more than usual. So, I’ll take this rare opportunity to wish everyone a fun and safe Hallow’s Veil. Whether you’re spiritual or not, remember that things can get a little weird when the veil between Realms grows thin. And weird often holds hands with dangerous.
Stay vigilant and tell your people you love them.
Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls
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A delicate orb painted in shades of amber and green, this small planet existed in the star map only as a lengthy alphanumeric code. Few ventured into the uncharted edges of the galaxy. Only the very brave or very foolish did so on the other side of lawless Liber space.
Light from the system’s star glinted off the Twin Tails as it exited its FTL tear. Formerly a vessel in service of the Erissian navy, the sleek destroyer with a jolly roger painted on its hull engaged thrusters and descended toward the planet.
Hours later, a middle-aged human woman with porcelain skin and a shaved head regarded a motley procession carrying tools up a narrow pathway through the luscious brush. “I’m not complaining, Captain. But given the scuttlebutt about our debt to Baron Yebish, I’m surprised you have us out here doing what seems like charity work.”
Captain Zanna Fabian, a fox-like humanoid called a kimone, tussled her mane of curly red hair and flipped her tricorne hat back on her head. “Life’s not all about credits, Stitch. Someone’s gotta stick up for the little guy. Why not a merry band of intrepid privateers like ourselves?”
Sitting cross-legged on a crate near their ship’s loading ramp, Stitch narrowed her eyes. “Not much of an answer, captain.”
Hunched over wearing striped pants and a worn, but colourful poncho, an old human man with a bushy silver beard named Svaro hobbled past. “Come, come, friends. Let me show you the great treasures of Adin Daiya’s domain!” His bright blue eye sparkled with excitement as he tapped his knobbly walking stick against the crate.
Stitch got to her feet and spun her quarterstaff adorned with various bits of bone. “Ah. There it is.”
As they ascended the hill, the captain sidled up to the crew’s chief medical officer, her two tails dancing behind her. “Come now, Stitch. It’s just a little babysitting gig. A mild detour on our grand adventure through the stars. Why so twitchy? Something crawl up your bum?”
Attuned to the ebb and flow of the Spirit Realm, the witchy doctor smelled the air and sneered. “Can’t you sense it? This place is… unnatural.”
Zanna looked around at the breadth of lush vegetation surrounding them and held up her hands in confusion.
They shuffled aside as their companion, a large shark-like Quali man named Brick, huffed up the path carrying a massive saw built to mount on a labour mech. “Cap’n… permission to speak?”
“Granted.”
“Are we deep space loggers now or something? I’ll follow you anywhere… just a little fuzzy on the details of this particular…”
The captain rolled her eyes as he went on about appreciating the fresh air.
At the top of the hill, they paused at an overlook to take in the vista ahead. Their path winded around for another kilometre through dense woods to a central point flanked by great waterfalls. The bones of an ancient structure poked out from the tightly packed foliage.
A swarm of biomechanical bees passed overhead and a sparkly figure separated from the pack. A doll-sized fairy dressed like a commando landed on the captain’s shoulder and saluted.
Zanna nodded and spoke softly, angling her compatriot away from Svaro’s line of sight. “Report, Zip.”
The diminutive scout stood at attention. “Ma’am. Definitely something strange up ahead. Ruins like I’ve never seen. Immense halls and gardens, but they’re all overrun with plants. Proper rampant. Even I could barely squeeze through some bits. And I swear some of it tried to grab me. It’ll take a while to cut through, even for Brick, and I can’t say for certain, but there’s definitely some special loot in there. I can feel it in my bones. It’s calling to me. I think I heard music or—“
“Zip.” The captain interrupted.
“Yes, cap’n?”
“Good work. Now zip it.”
Stitch poked her head into the huddle. “The plants tried to grab you?”
The hyperactive fairy nodded rapidly. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard some shuffling, then a vine went wtsh! And I went, ‘No way! Can’t touch this!’” Zip made zooming noises as she illustrated her daring escape.
Stitch turned to the captain. “We should leave. This place is cursed.”
Zip scoffed, sending spit flying out of her mouth. “Get a load of that. The lady with bits of people sewn into her clothes feels a little squiggly. What a shock!”
Zanna sighed and put a hand on the bald woman’s shoulder. “I value your keen insight and… unique expertise, Stitch. But last week, you said the gumbo was cursed.”
The doctor hissed. “And I treated the most vile bowel infections for days!”
The trio paused their bickering as Brick’s heavy breathing drowned them out. They turned as his massive shark head filled the space between them. “What you lot whispering about? Somebody say something about gumbo? I’ve got some in me pack.”
A whistle from up ahead drew their attention. Svaro waved his stick, beckoning the stragglers to follow.
The captain wrapped her arms around her team. “Listen. The mission is to escort these fine fellows to the paradise some Ancient tart promised them. Our wizened mate, Svaro, who came highly recommended from Captain Tizza, promised proper compensation, but the details were a little murky. Alls I’m saying is keep an eye out for anything that seems valuable, yeah? Look at this sorry lot. They’ve clearly left the burdens of material wealth behind long ago. We’d be doing them a favour by removing that corrupting temptation. Savvy?”
The crew replied in unison, “Sweet,” then carried on toward the overgrown structure.
***
Once they cut away most of the vegetation, the structure revealed itself as the remnants of a Zen garden. Perfection created by an alien mind. Vast tracks of what once must have been magnificent sculptures lined waterways and paths through towering, impeccably tailored hedgerows. Insisting that no one disturb a single rock, Svaro took great care leading everyone down a path only he knew by heart as they cleared the strange plants that reclaimed the ruin.
The expedition soon reached an immense gate. With the growth they cleared reaching in to close the gap, the band took a break while others hacked away at the thick vines barring their way.
Speaking with a voice grated from decades of telling this story, Svaro sat on a bench and spoke to an attentive Brick. “We stand only in the corporeal garden. As wondrous as this is, the true garden lies in an alternate dimension. Adin Daiyo’s power and artistic acumen was so great she sculpted a paradise for her and her people in the Great Aether itself.”
Having heard this tale several times already, Zanna paced, bouncing her vibro-sabre on her shoulder. “Her aesthetic is a bit beyond me, but she sounds like a lovely lass. What exactly are you hoping to find out here, mate? The Pulse wiped out the Ancients and most of everyone else from the Age of Glory 25,000 years ago.”
The old man turned and pointed his knobbly walking stick at her. “That’s a tidy simplification taught to many across the galaxy, but untrue! The Alvor survived. As did the Shapers, and the Asaresh’s patron, Tiamorrak.”
Zanna tutted. “I always figured they were lesser blokes who got lucky. Think your girl was one of them?”
Maintaining his signature smile, Svaro leaned closer as he gazed at her with one uncovered eye. “The Pulse reaped the galaxy of most the Ancients, true. But Adin Daiyo is a god. I’ve encountered a wealth of evidence that she had throngs of bright, colourful followers who praised her in the Age of Glory. Now, after so many millennia, I and my flock shall rekindle that flame. Bring her back and herald a new Age of Beauty and Peace for Aesteria.”
Brick stared wide eyed and gasped. “Whoa… that sounds pretty flash, eh, cap’n?”
Zanna stretched and yawned. It’d been many hours since they set out, but the sky seemed like dawn the entire time. She wondered if Ancients had the power to alter a planet’s orbit at their whim.
The old man continued, “Adin Daiyo promised a perfect paradise, free from the ugliness of death, chaos and corruption. I’ve spoken to many of your crew on our long journey. You have quite the cozy setup for rough and tumble types. But wouldn’t you like a real home? Someplace warm, inviting and safe. Full of love and life. Just for you and your chosen family?”
Zanna and Brick locked eyes as painful memories of their exodus from the Erissian navy flooded back. A sullen expression fell over both of the exiles.
The captain furrowed her brow and looked around. She lost track of Stitch.
***
Her skin couldn’t stop tingling since she arrived. As they got closer to their destination, an incessant, high-pitched whine only she could hear rang right behind her eyes. The captain gave her permission to return to the ship, but the Eien No witch doctor had a more unconventional relationship with pain than most. After inhaling the smoke from burning bat ears, the pain grew more intense, along with the signal.
Ignoring Svaro’s warnings to stay on the path with the group, she ventured deeper into the overgrowth. Stitch raised her vibro-machete to strike, but the obstructing vines recoiled on their own. Unsure whether they were friend or foe, she followed as they guided her away from the others. With the signal strength increasing along with the pain in the centre of her head, her heightened senses soon detected an all too familiar scent.
Dead bodies.
Tucked into a dark corner just beyond the garden, someone dug a pit and dropped dozens of bodies inside. Unphased, Stitch jumped in to investigate closer. The ruins were over 25,000 years old, but these bodies were breathing within the last few months, up to a year. Looked like several different groups at different times.
Knee deep in corpse, she heard a small voice from above. “Stitch? Stiiitch?! Where the frick are you? Oh, there you are, you slippery lout. I was looking all over for — Ugh! What’s that smell? Is that you? Why are you always playing around in the dark? Are those…“ Zip shrieked until Stitch jumped up to nab the loquacious fairy and cover her mouth.
Under the light of Zip’s bioluminescent wings, the pair noticed a familiar article of clothing among the dead. The iconic hat of Captain Tizza.
Stitch fought past the throbbing pain in her skull as her mind raced. “People should damn well listen when I speak. How many have to learn the hard way? We have to warn the captain.”
They both froze as a shadow fell over them from the top of the pit.
***
Back at the garden gate, Svaro’s people hacking away at the vines shouted, “Almost through!”
Seeing glimpses of the ornate design behind the dense foliage, they put the axes away lest they damage their temple. Exhilaration surged through their tired bodies and they pulled apart the last bits of stubborn plants as the others crowded around. The group stared in awe at a magnificent relief design inlaid all along the wall. None could agree on what it depicted, but it looked beautiful and inviting to all.
Zanna, hand on the sabre at her hip, moved closer to investigate. “Don’t see any handles or a lock. Are we supposed to rap on it a few times, asking if any bugger’s home?”
Brick offered, “Shall I give it a good bonk, cap’n?”
Wide-eyed with shaking hands, Svaro pushed past the shark man’s bulk, reached into his poncho, and produced a small leather-bound notebook. After skimming its pages, he approached and placed a hand on the wall. Closing his eye, the old man spoke in an arcane tongue. “Yyashj atten… Shialekirr.”
His voice echoed ominously about the garden. The stones hadn’t heard those words in ages. The ground rumbled and aethereal energy trailed up the lines inlaid in the wall. They formed an immense flower, then blossomed into a swirling purple and blue portal so bright the group had to shield their eyes.
All except Svaro, who took it all in, refusing to look away even as tears streaked his wrinkled cheeks.
Zanna stepped beside him, gazing in wonder. “Well, bugger me with a fishing pole. Where’d an old geezer like you learn that?”
Svaro wiped away some moisture trailing down his beard. “The language of the Ancients. Few are willing to sacrifice what is necessary to learn its secrets.”
The captain adjusted her hat and placed her hands on her hips. “Aren’t you full of surprises. Any notions on what’s on the other side?”
The old man laughed. “Appropriately enough, I believe we’ve finally found the servant’s entrance.”
As he stepped forward, she spun in front of him. “Wait a tic, guv. I’m the muscle, yeah? Let me go in first and have a look see.”
He tried to step around, but her tails fanned out to block him. “I really think it’s more appropriate if I be the first to step through.”
“No, no, no, that won’t do. You know what they say, age before beauty. Best if someone with my military tenure face the potential dangers on the other side. Would be a shame if you came all this way just to step on a trap, get bopped by an automaton, or roasted by the great Aether Dragon, eh?”
He leaned in to push her with surprising strength. “I must insist, captain. Now step aside or —“
As the others in the group motioned to intervene, Brick shouldered past everyone. “Don’t fret, cap’n. Forever your shield, it’s my job to be the marine vanguard. Let ol’ Brick take the hit.”
While they argued, several roots wormed their way to touch the portal. Magical energy coursed through the plants, causing them to bulge and grow. Thick, thorny vines whipped out from the sides and assailed the intruders, swatting them away from the portal. Wrestling with Svaro, Zanna’s sharp reflexes enabled her to duck under a broad swipe. The foliage groaned as a massive trunk formed and descended, threatening to crush them both.
Grappling and ripping the vines with a thorn-filled branch caught in his jaws, Brick saw the danger and spat out a chunk of mutated plant. “I’m coming, cap’n!”
The marine rolled under a swiping vine, grabbed the immense saw and chopped at the falling trunk with a mighty roar.
In his stalwart defence, the big man bumped Zanna and Svaro into the portal.
***
A rush of wind and deafening sound greeted the captain and the old man on the other side. They collapsed onto a surface carved from an unnaturally resilient alabaster. Zanna fell closer to the edge and had to reach out to grab her hat before it fell off the precipice into the mists far below.
Looking around, brilliant waterfalls surrounded the strange structure they landed on. Zanna said, “Not sure what I was expecting, but this don’t seem like an Ancient’s promised land to me.”
A grumbling Svaro climbed off her and adjusted the worn wrap around his head covering one eye. He reached inside his poncho and bit back a curse. His notebook must’ve fallen out in the scuffle.
Svaro got to his feet and surveyed the area. “Look at the sky, captain. We’re still on this planet and in the Elemental Realm. This is but the first step toward Adin Daiya’s domain. Speaking of which…” He tapped the ground.
Zanna looked down, all around, then realized where they were. They stood on an immense statue of the Ancient goddess. Its beauty embodied grace and elegance, regardless of the beholder. She couldn’t tell if it was abstract or if some Ancients just looked this uncanny. The portal emerged roughly where one would expect a womb to be on an average humanoid and they stood in the open palms of two of her many sets of hands.
A bright light several levels up caught the pirate’s eye. Her fox ears twitched when they caught the sound of otherworldly chimes coming from the same location. They could be heard even with the din of roaring waterfalls.
Svaro caught it too. They narrowed their eyes at each other before Zanna said, “Last one up’s a rotten egg!” She shoved him and scampered up one of the statue’s arms to the next level up.
The wily kimone’s long coat and tails billowed behind her as she scaled one set of arms, swung from a vine up a second, then ran up to leap onto a third. Only one level remained, but this one had no way to ascend that she could see. With the enticing chimes echoing louder right above her, Zanna took a gamble.
It was a risky gambit without seeing where she was going, but a best guess seemed worth it. Tapping into the innate power granted by her twin tails, the kimone focused and teleported a short distance above her.
She reappeared midair on the next level. Had she pushed a few more inches up, her head would have gotten stuck in the stone. A science experiment she never wanted to test. Zanna yelped and clattered to the not so soft embrace of the statue’s stone hands.
Held at mid-chest, a wider platform of four alabaster hands held a dais. Above it hovered a brilliant gem, shaped like a teardrop, roughly the size of a mango. Its soft pink light thrummed with warm energy. Slowly spinning in the air, she saw what looked like veins pulsing underneath its crystalline structure.
With its glory filling her vision, Zanna’s world went black as she reached for it.
On the floor after a moment of unconsciousness, her eyes slowly came into focus. Svaro loomed over her, having just clubbed the captain with his knobbly cane. She couldn’t tell if she was dreaming as the old man stood tall, then removed his poncho and headwrap, revealing a well-muscled athletic build and a hi-tech visor over his previously covered eye.
Delirious with blood running down her temple, Zanna retrieved her hat. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. You really are full of surprises, aren’t you? That jewel some kind of mystical protein shake?”
Svaro circled her, bouncing the club on his shoulder and holding a heavy pistol in the other hand. He dropped some of the gravel in his voice that made him seem more infirm than he was. “We both knew at least part of this was coming, captain. I’ll give you credit, you got us this far, and you’ve been more… charming than the others. In your own vulgar way.”
Her world still spinning, she lifted herself up to kneel. “I have been accused of being a ray of fucking sunshine. Since we’re so chummy at the moment, what say you we finalize the terms of our arrangement?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea, captain. Especially considering your current bargaining posture.”
Ascending the stairs tucked behind the statue, Svaro’s people dragged Brick and Stitch in to kneel next to their captain. Those carrying in Brick showed evidence of the pains it took to capture the big shark man.
Svaro dropped the club and took a moment to marvel at his prize with a big smile on his face. “What is this to you, captain? A hefty payout at your fence? A fine decoration for your boudoir?” He grabbed the gem. The chimes ceased as it left its point of stasis. “For me, and soon everyone else who’s worthy… this is salvation. Freedom from the rat race that keeps us clawing at each other for scraps. A higher purpose. A better life. A home.”
He holstered the pistol and extended a hand to the pirates. “This doesn’t have to be the end. You can join us in a new beginning. We still have much work to do before Adin Daiya embraces her loyal followers. Lend us your ship, your crew, and your sword, then true riches shall be yours.”
Stitch groaned and closed her eyes. Her people believed death was just a return to the Well of Souls where reincarnation awaits. Brick, also unafraid, turned to his captain for orders.
Zanna looked at her people and sighed. “Tempting. But you know what they say, mate. Home’s where the heart is. We gave up serving awful wankers a long time ago. So you and your stupid cult can get eat a whole bag of dicks.” She blew a raspberry and flipped him off.
Svaro shook his head. “That’s too bad. Not like it matters. We’ve already secured your ship and dealt with the remaining crew. Nothing left to do but tie up loose ends here. What’s the popular method for this in pirate circles? Is it still walking the plank?” He and his followers chuckled as he gestured to the long drop behind them.
Everyone looked around as the air filled with a strange sound. Music. A melodic tune grew and sailed through the wind between Realms. It kicked into a jaunty beat similar to a shanty, but not one any of the pirates ever heard.
An ethereal voice filtered in on the edges of their perception singing along with the tune. It carried notes akin to the language of the Ancients Svaro spoke earlier, but his knowledge of the tongue was severely limited.
One follower breathed in deep and dropped her weapon. Everyone backed up as her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she floated out beyond the statue’s hands. Held in the air by some unseen power, her body contorted into a twitchy dance along with the beat. At the crescendo before the chorus, her head cranked back with their mouth agape. Steam escaped her face along with a burning sound and a gaseous haze formed above.
Now hollowed out, the body fell limp into the mists below. The haze spun and shifted into the form of a ghostly elf. Androgynous, even for the fair folk, they wore an ostentatious coat with the front open, revealing a lithe torso. Tight pants with feathers sewn down the sides drew eyes to a pair of extravagant boots. Their makeup, wild, flowing hair, and fashion sense screamed exultant nautical glam to the nth degree. Zanna couldn’t contain her awe at the absolute brilliance of their hat.
The elf belted out the end of the chorus with gusto and regarded these mortals with curiosity. Having drained the knowledge from the follower’s mind, they purred in Galactic Common. “Ara ara. My, my, my. What have we here? Innumerable cycles have passed, and it seems the barbarians still squabble and bludgeon each other for whatever trifle they can get their filthy paws on. What a magnificent trinket, they thought, stumbling in the ignorant dark. Worth enough to kill for, but not enough to understand. How delightfully drôle.”
Svaro held up the jewel. “I understand plenty. Enough to not be cowed by an irritating apparition. Begone from this holy place, ghost. We are Adin Daiya’s chosen! Go haunt some noble runt’s Hallow’s Veil party.”
The spectral captain doubled over with a belly laugh that reverberated at varying volumes through their minds.
Once they finished, the elf eyed them all with hungry eyes. “You’re quite the jester. Though you sully Her name with your indelicate tongue. Adin Daiya has no place for fools in her warm embrace. Especially a repulsive one like you. Return the heart… or face your doom.”
Svaro set his jaw. “Try me, you spectral waif.”
A wicked grin creased across the elf’s face as they clapped their hands. “As you wish.” They blew a kiss that washed over everyone on the platform. A blossoming sigil blazed onto their chests and their souls.
The spectral captain held out their hands and proclaimed in a voice that could fill a stadium. “Let the games begin!”
They spun, posed, and drew a wicked blade. The shanty kicked off once more and a flood of similarly dressed spectral sailors appeared from thin air to charge everyone on the platform. Svaro’s followers opened fire, but their bullets passed right through. As the vengeful elves grew close, they manifested in the Elemental Realm with a flash of light and slashed at the intruders, causing very real, very deadly wounds with elegant curved blades.
Looking to eliminate a threat he knew he could handle, a follower turned his submachine gun to the kneeling pirates.
Covered in viscera from Stitch stuffing her into the corpse pile, Zip flew over the lip of the platform, belting out a war cry. The cultist screamed, shooting wildly as she stabbed him repeatedly with her fairy-sized knife.
Seizing the opportunity, Stitch rolled under the gunfire to retrieve her staff from another cultist. The former monk spun it around to launch the cultist off the platform. Brick hoofed one cultist into a ghost corsair’s blade, then body slammed another into the ground. He almost fell as the impact was strong enough to break off one of the statue’s fingers.
Stitch tossed the captain her vibro-sabre. Before the glowering witch doctor could speak, Zanna pointed a stern finger. “Put a sock in it! No time for ‘I told you so’s’.”
Scanning the battlefield, she saw Svaro holding the jewel and uttering some arcane words to ward off attacking ghosts as he fled behind the statue. Having seen its glory up close, Zanna couldn’t help herself but try to grab it.
A flash of light burst in front of her and she blocked the spectral captain’s blade with her own an inch from her neck.
The elf gazed into her eyes. “Aren’t you precious. Care to dance, my cute little vulpari?”
“Do I get that hat if I win?”
The spectre smirked. “Try and keep up, darling.” They tossed one blade in the air, clapped their hands, manifested a second blade, and used them both to weave a deadly tango around Zanna.
Narrowly dodging a few swipes that would’ve ended her, the elf upped the tempo. As the music approached another crescendo, their form split into five that pirouetted around the captain. They struck a pose, then attacked in time with the music.
Activating her second innate power, arcane energy pulsed behind her eyes and time slowed for Zanna. With supercharged reaction speed and some deft acrobatics, she parried or dodged the strikes and even ended her spin with a slash across the ghost’s chest.
They recoiled from the strike, then stared at her with mouth agape. Their eyes lit up with excitement as they ran a finger across the spectral wound and brought it to their tongue. “Ooooo, I like you. I’m going to save you for last.”
Closer to the body of the statue, Brick bonked one of the manifested ghosts with a pot of gumbo, then used it to block a wicked spectral harpoon before it impaled him. The big man lamented as the food dripped to the floor, then zeroed in on his attacker. In a rare moment of clarity during a fight, the shark man stopped to assess the situation. With most of the cultists dead and Svaro gone, the ghosts focused their attention and surrounded his crew on the edge of the broken platform. Still shuffling to the beat, the ghostly pirates closed in for the kill.
Seeing his captain worn out from exertion and a wounded head, the marine made a call for her.
Holding his meaty arms up, the ghosts cut deep slashes across his hide as he charged through the encirclement. Brick shouted, “Hold your breath, gang!” then tackled them all off the ledge, down into mists below.
***
A serene lake lapped on the beach next to the spot where the Twin Tails landed. The ship’s XO, an ork named Nix, breathed heavily as she finished off the last of the cultist attackers. Usually well-buttoned up and the pinnacle of naval discipline, her many wounds ignited the ancestral blood rage of her people and pushed back the deadly sneak attack.
Leaning against a crate near the foot of the ramp, she watched as her crew carried the dead bodies of cultists out and brought in the bodies of the crewmates who fell in battle.
It’d been almost a whole day since they left, but you wouldn’t know it for the never changing dawn sky.
The navigator, a goblin with a coiffed moustache, approached. “No word from the captain and no chance of surviving another assault. What are your orders?”
Nix wiped a splash of blood from her brow and sighed. As she opened her eyes, she saw movement in the lake’s waters. The XO grabbed a nearby rifle and loaded her last power pack.
Her sights trained on whatever emerged, she hesitated at a curious sight.
Brick huffed out of the water, putting one webbed foot in front of the other. Blood leaked from multiple wounds across his body, but he soldiered on. Under one arm, he held a grumbling and irate Stitch while an unconscious Captain Zanna rode piggyback. A filthy and foul-smelling Zip zoomed inside, heading straight for the showers.
The witch doctor wiggled out of his grasp and went to work. She bit open a bag she took from the ship’s hold while cursing in her native tongue. As Nix watched the strange woman pour out a long line of powder outside the ship, Brick hustled by and spoke in a hoarse voice. “Aye, aye, XO. Best wheels up and make tracks, if you catch my drift. We might have company.”
The ork got on the comms and ordered an emergency launch. Before getting back onboard, she paused as strange music filled the air. The waters parted once more as a horde of spectral corsairs charged up the beach.
Stitch ignited the powder. A wall of silvery flame and smoke erupted, banishing the first few ghosts that ran into it.
With the ship’s engines roaring to life, Nix pulled the witch doctor aboard and closed the ramp before the emergency boosters kicked in to propel the destroyer into the air.
Before it left, a delighted elf captain floated above the silvery smoke and blew a kiss at his quarry.
In the hold, Nix watched a spectral sigil etching into her chest and stood at ease over Zanna. “Care to explain what sort of mess you’ve gotten us into this time, captain?”
As Stitch got to work patching her up, the captain pulled out a leather-bound notebook from her coat pocket and shook some water off it.
As the Twin Tails rocketed into orbit, the ghost corsairs watched from below. They looked to their captain, then vanished back into the Spirit Realm.
Before he joined them, the elf captain looked to the stars and flashed a devilish smile. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”
Hope you liked this spooky tail of deception, fabulous ghost pirates and curses!
With Nanowrimo next month, good chance I come up with something actually short next month. Unless it's another sample chapter from Nexus 99. We'll see!
Here's the link to the archive of newsletters in case you missed any.
Talk to you next month. Have a good one!