Fighter's Fever: The Metallic Siege

by Ricardo Nazaire

  “Don’t you dare young lady me, Aya! I’ll have you know that you still have tabs from months ago that you tried passing on me. Besides, everyone knows that I—”

  Beth begins to violently cough. Despite saying that she was fine, her nurses then insist that she rests and Madam Chambers agrees. Aya quietly gathers her thoughts before leaving the room.

  “What are you going to do, Aya? What is your plan moving forward?” Madam Chambers calls out.

  “These bastards…If they had their way, my best friend wouldn’t be alive. Even though she barely survived, she’s sitting there coughing up her own blood. I won’t rest until I see that the ones behind this are destroyed. By any means necessary, Ma’am…”

  Meanwhile, the sun shines brightly on a man along the southeastern coast of Tortuga. Despite days passing since the Prospear incident took place, the surrounding area was still understandably in shambles.

  Officials of this region had the safety of its people in mind by declaring a state of emergency. Still, that didn’t stop this individual from moving along.

  “Hey! I know you can hear me! How could you ignore someone that’s drowning?”

  “You say that, but you are obviously floating just fine! How about you start by giving your name,” an old fisherman replies from his small boat.

  “You’ve gotta be…You know what, fine, whatever. Roland! My name is Roland! Now would you please lend a brother a hand already,” Roland states as he struggles to stay afloat.

  The fisherman grumpily helps Roland to safety. Roland attempts to help himself to a loaf of bread, but is stopped when the fisherman threatens to skin him alive. Roland, now shackled, decides to break the tension with some small talk.

  “Thanks again for saving me and not skinning me alive. Anyway, I really appreciate it. I’ll be sure to pay you as soon as I get to land,” Roland states as his stomach growls.

  “Don’t bother. Your money's no good to me,” the fisherman replies. “Besides, I have no intentions of bringing you back to where I stay.”

  “With all due respect, if that’s your way of saying you are going to kill me, then you know what? I’m not even mad,” Roland shrugs. “If that’s the case, I’m willing to bet that it beats drowning.”

  “Even though I may end up regretting it, I’m just going to drop you off once I finish my rounds here. I don’t want to waste any time in these waters, so I hope you can understand me being blunt about things.”

  “I’m more of a paper kind of guy, but, sure, I’m picking up what you’re putting down. While you are being uncharacteristically decent, do you mind sharing your name?” Roland asks.

  “Weiss. Craig Weiss. Considering that I’m a fisherman and that you are on my boat, feel free to call me Skipper Weiss,” he explains. “What brings you around these parts, Roland? You’re not one of those rebel punks, are you?”

  “Clutch my pearls! I take offense to that good, Sir,” Roland says with his hand on his chest. “I’m a pretty well-known journalist. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

  “…”

  “Well, okay, maybe not the most well-known one,” Roland grunts.

  “I wasn’t big enough to get involved covering the attack on the Academy. I had no luck when I reached out for statements and it didn’t help that they sealed off the area. I figured I could put together something short and sweet on the Prospear Bridge in the meantime and…”

  “I see,” Weiss responded. “Regardless of what got you there, you should be grateful that you made it out alive. Once I got wind of what happened, I made my way up here. It’s been days and I was afraid that I wouldn’t find anyone alive, but here you are.”

  “That’s pretty noble of you, Skip. Though I think you should head back home as soon as you can,” Roland states. “Sure, I’m not a threat but the way things have been going lately, I think you would be better off getting somewhere safe.”

  “I’m fifty-six years old, young buck. I’m stuck in my ways and if there’s one thing for sure, I’ll be damned if I start running away this late in life,” Weiss replies. “After all, I couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  “What do you mean?” Roland asked, noticing that Weiss didn’t lock his shackles. “As an older guy, doesn’t that make you even more of a target out here?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Times have definitely changed. Many moons ago, I probably would’ve welcomed any fool to challenge me for what’s mine. But things are different, and, naturally, so has my outlook on the world. Hasania has had its fair share of dark days, but the recent attacks are some of the first of their kind,” Weiss says as he looks out into the open sea.

  “How do you figure? Even with the Empire running things, people still can’t get it together out here,” Roland thinks out loud. “Good, bad, and everything in between. It seems like people are always going to get into it around here. Surely you’ve been around long enough to see what I mean firsthand.”

  “Yes, I have seen a lot, Roland. But this is a far cry from the countless skirmishes that have taken place over the years. The bouts that have taken place in the past had a sense of honor. A sense of dignity. Right or wrong, both sides at least believed they were fighting towards some cause. But unwarranted attacks on the innocent? That takes a special kind of evil.”

  “I agree. I truly do. I apologize if I upset you,” Roland quietly replies. “I guess it’s just my nature to question, I suppose.”

  “Not an issue. I suppose speaking after days alone at sea was just what the doctor ordered,” Weiss reassures him. “Regardless of how I feel about this, I pray for good fortune moving forward. Even if I was only able to save you, I’m glad to have made a difference somehow.”

  “Trust me, Sir. I’m deeply grateful for what you’ve done and I’ll definitely pay it forward,” Roland nods. “Wow, that was the best conversation I’ve had in weeks. Who would have thought?”

  “Life’s funny like that sometimes, young buck.”

  “Heh, I’m like twenty-five. That’s half your age. How does that make me a young buck?”

  “What? How are you like twenty-five? You either are or you aren’t. Moreover, twenty-eight would be half my age. How did you make it this far in life?”

  “Come on, Craig! We were doing so good until you questioned my math skills. I should have told you how sensitive I am about my—”

  “You did no such thing! And Craig? Don’t get too comfortable, boy!”

  “Boy? I know we’re in the south and all, but you really need to be more considerate of how—”

  The boat crashed into something. Weiss and Roland saw it had hit a sizable object.

  “What do you think it is, Buck?”

  “Call me crazy, but it looks like a part of the bridge.”

  “All the way out here? How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to check it out,” Roland says as he leaps from the boat.

  Confirming that the surrounding debris was from the Prospear Bridge, Roland calls out to Weiss.

  “Bring the boat around right now!”

  “What’s going on over there, Roland? What did you find?”

  “Not a what, old man. More like a who,” Roland says as he carries an unconscious individual aboard the ship.

  “How this is even possible?” Weiss asks. “That attack was days ago. How could anyone survive floating about for that long?”

  “Who knows? I checked his vitals and the kid is barely breathing.”

  “That’s good, it could have been worse. Much worse. Please tend to him while I set a course for home.”

  “Home? We need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. If you head back where you found me, then we’ll be able to—”

  “Be mindful of who’s running this ship, Buck. I won’t let him die on my watch,” Weiss says as he reveals a small crystal. Doing this caused the boat to speed at an incredible rate. Barely able to contain his shock, Roland quickly held on to what he could as they pressed on.

/>   “W-what in the world did you just do, Weiss? You didn’t tell me you were some sort of wizard!”

  “I’m not. Well, not exactly. Either way, we’ll be there shortly. There isn’t much I could do for him in the middle of the water, but he’ll be in capable hands shortly.”

  “Hang on, I’m coming too? Whatever happened to having no intentions of bringing me with you?” Roland says, trying to keep his anxiety at bay.

  “Clearly there was a change of plans. I don’t have time to explain everything right now, but you’re only heading there to help with him. That’s it, do you understand? No more, no less.”

  “Of course, of course. Though I have to say given my line of work, I’m dying to do a spread on this. Well, with your blessing, of course.”

  “Boy, if you so much as say one word about where you’re about to go, then I’ll see to it that you actually die,” Weiss snaps. “Feel free to quote that one!”

  “Look, I really thought we were moving forward from the whole ‘boy’ thing, but if you’re really stuck in your ways—”

  “Ah, hush! I need to focus on getting us there! Just keep checking on our friend,” Weiss orders. “As for your question, I suppose we can discuss more once we…Are you stealing from him?? I knew you were one of those punks!”

  “Hey, just calm down! The kid has taken quite a few serious hits, we’ll probably be there soon, and I was just checking his tag to see what his blood type is,” Roland replies as he provided direct pressure on the wound.

  “Hmm, let’s see. If worse comes to worst, we have the same type so I could always—”

  “Wait, wait. The things that you’re doing. You aren’t just some journalist, are you? What’s going on, Roland?”

  “We can talk more once we get there. About everything. But like you said, he’s not dying on our watch, Skip.”

  “Understood, Buck. Was there anything else you were able to find? Anything information that could help once we get there,” Weiss asks. “We’ll reach the shores as soon.”

  “Not much, unfortunately. Looking at his wounds, it looks like he went down swinging. They look pretty fresh too. My guess is that they’re from the attack on the bridge. Not much, I know, but it looks like this kid put up a hell of a fight. How he’s still alive is beyond me.”

  “Alive for now. Let’s not speak so soon. Were you able to get anything else? Anything at all?”

  “Oh, right. Just a name from his tag. I know it isn’t much, but from what I can make from it…Let’s see…Well Skip, it's…K-Keenth. The kid’s name is Keenth.”

  Through the Fog, Pt. I

  “Yo, yo! It’s Keenth, coming at you live from–Wait that sounds dumb, they could see where I am,” the young man thinks to himself. “Well, um, the Training Academy is on holiday break right now, so I decided to check in with you guys out there while I get some well-deserved–”

  “Boy,” an old man shouts. “If I have to tell you one more time to put that damn camera down and help me with these crates, I swear on everything that–”

  “…Well, alright then! It looks like that’s all the time we have today, folks. Be easy! Keenth Hedstrom, out!”

  It was just another sunny day near the small seaside mountains with Keenth giving Renzel, the village elder, yet another headache.

  As he made his way to the back of a cargo airship, Elder Renzel stared at Keenth with a look of confusion and a hint of pity. It was a quiet afternoon in Colonia and it happened to be when shipments would come and go through the quaint island community.

  In his time growing up there, Keenth had grown accustomed to the easygoing ways of Colonia and the hard work and determination of the people had influenced him in a very positive way, at least in his opinion.

  “Keenth, how many times do I have to tell you not to broadcast every little thing?”

  “Oh, come on. It’s been months since I’ve been home and I just wanted to keep the people in the loop,” Keenth explains as he loads some boxes, hoping to start a conversation.

  “Look, the point is that by the world's standards, we’re pretty laid back,” Renzel replies. “I just don’t want you to get into the habit of thinking the rest of the world is the same.”

  “Who are you telling? Most of the folks at the Academy act as if they don’t have any manners at all. People like you make me want to stay home, you know? This is a nice, easygoing place where you can look at life with a smile–at least I do.”

  “You have a lot to learn, son. To think that someone like you, from way out here, could qualify for that Academy of theirs. Hey, someone really must be looking out for you up there.”

  “To be honest, I'm a bit surprised myself. I took the entrance exam to see how I'd do and a few months later, they said that they were interested. The thing is, there is a program for potential attendees outside of the region, and I guess I fit that description, old man.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just remember you're a unique individual, Keenth. Just like everyone else.”

  Keenth laughed. Although many of the people around Colonia had separate ways of life, the way that they all came together was a lot like family. They were the kind of people who know and understand others which meant a lot to Keenth.

  Those were the inhabitants of Colonia. As much as he valued his time back home, Keenth understood that it was his last night before heading back to the Training Academy.

  “Hey sorry, but I’ve gotta rest up. You know, I’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow.”

  “I’ll check in on you before you head out, yeah?” Elder Renzel looked down, signifying that he got the message.

  “Units One and Two move in. Unit Three: Stand by until further notice.”

  “Copy, Sir.”

  The first group moves around a facility, motioning for the second to follow. They slowly move toward their destination, when, suddenly, the third group makes a call for assistance. The leader of the operation heads back.

  “Something isn't right with these chambers; they were still in use. There must be projects dating back to at least five years here,” Agent Keyes says as he examines the area.

  Senior Agent Lawrence Keyes knows mech-technology like the back of his hand as he is essentially the foundation of what is known around the world as the LanTech Empire.

  Agent Keyes has the first two groups standby as he examines the other location with the third. Some of these machines were still warm which signified that they were used in as little as a few hours prior.

  This reconnaissance mission dated back about three months and was thought to have been a bust until recently when Agent Keyes had decided to lead the operation.

  With a seasoned Agent on the case, it looked promising that they were close to shutting down a major rebel force in northern Tortuga, or so they thought.

  “Sir, you should come and look at this!”

  “What? This can't be right,” Agent Keyes responds, baffled. “Rebels couldn't possibly have the means to…Everyone, get back!”

  A terrible explosion sounded around where the first two groups were posted. Was it an ambush? There was sickening smoke that filled the area, a demonic fog looking to blind all around.

  “I c-can hardly breathe in here...What's going on? Is this place on fire?” Keenth thinks to himself as he gasps for air.

  While he had no clue as to where he is or how he got there, Keenth knew that with each toxic breath he inhales took him closer to the end of his young life. At this point, he is reduced to crawling. With each push, he felt closer to the abyss.

  An unknown figure appears then and strikes him. The being was seemingly unfazed by the cloud of death that loomed around them. It must've been some sort of monster: not only for attacking someone that was near death, but for presumably causing this destruction in the first place.

  Acting instinctively, Keenth rose to his feet, seeing this as unforgivable. He drew his sword to cut down this nemesis with the last of his ailing strength. As he desperately tries to fight the being, more figures
like it appear, signifying the end.

  As Keenth closes his eyes expecting the worst, he is left confused as a pale blue flash appears in its presence, suddenly causing the figures to fade, one by one. All that is left is a single hooded figure walking away.

  “W-Wait! Don't go—!”

  The figure, who apparently was also unaffected by the smoke, turns to Keenth and he catches their eye.

  Those eyes—those mysterious eyes—seemed as if they were shining through the fog, but all too quickly, Keenth awakened, bewildered.

  It was all a dream. More specifically, a dream that Keenth had been having for several days now.

  While the details were generally shrouded by mystery, a feeling of uncertainty lingered.

  “No, no, no! I'm gonna be late,” Keenth shouts, noticing it is almost time to leave.

  Keenth had ended up oversleeping, but since the cargo airship hadn’t left yet, he still had a shot making it to Tortuga.

  Thinking of Elder Renzel and the others, he said a quiet thank you to himself before boarding.

  After looking his boarding pass, he barely made it, but manages to stand in the back, covered with feathers, among other things.

  In Sadeena, the highly industrialized southern region of Hasania, the atmosphere is far from an easygoing afternoon where one could watch the clouds drift by like empty thoughts.

  Here, a young woman pulls into a LanTech Facilitation Building, where she is greeted by a man who just finishes smoking.

  “It is pretty weird seeing you early for anything, Giles. Did they tell you there would be a prize if you showed up on time or something?” Agent Connors jokes.

  It was always good to use humor in tense situations, especially with this one in particular. Her friend had a subtle distress in his eyes.

  “Well, I was in the neighborhood and I figured, why not? That and you can't sit here and tell me this weather isn’t as motivational as it gets, right, Jinni?” Agent Giles replies as he looks for another cigarette.

  Agent Connors, however, had a slight smirk. The kind where she wanted to show that she was serious, but, at the same time, she knew that some people know just when and how to make others smile.