Chapter 35: The Engineer

2104 Words
Luca woke up unusually late on Sunday. As he rubbed his eyes, he expected to find Barry already clutching through studies on the next recruits or plotting engagements based on the results from the previous night. If anything, being the morning bird that he was, Barry should at least be studying or out grabbing lunch. Instead, Luca found his friend still in bed, tucked underneath his sheets at the same exact position as the previous night. “Barry?” Luca asked. Again, silence. “Barry, what’s up with you?” Luca asked again to no avail. “Are you mad that I played as Kramen last night? I’m sorry, okay? I just thought…” “I’m not mad,” Barry said flatly without turning to face Luca. “Then come on, get out of bed, dude,” Luca touched Barry’s side, and once again Barry reeled upon contact. Luca sighed. He’d need a different approach. “Hey, yesterday we saw some people with awesome gear, and Lord found their supplier! I was thinking he could be our Techie!” “Good,” Barry moaned. “Don’t you wanna run him by your System?” “Take my laptop to Sarah. She knows how to use it,” Barry replied flatly. “I don’t feel like playing today.” Luca heaved, attempting to understand the situation and find a way to reach his friend. At the end, he simply gave up and grabbed the laptop, heading out to meet Sarah. But then he stopped. Lord Potathunder had once told him that he was responsible for the group’s cohesion. For making the most of everyone. If Lord had been right, his role right now was not to find them an engineer, but to rescue their Spawn-Master. “It’s funny, you know,” Luca said, turning to his friend. “You not feeling like playing. Because two nights ago, if I recall correctly, you said you were not playing. You said you were waging war. Makes me think if you were full of crap.” Barry heaved under the sheets, then slowly pushed himself up, letting the covers fall to reveal a bloodstained shirt. When Barry turned around to face Luca, the swimmer could not help but heel at the sight of his roommate. Black eyes, several bruises and cuts on his cheeks and forehead, everything generally swollen, and several spots covered in crusts of dried blood. Luca struggled to find the words. “Please don’t ask,” Barry pleaded. “Don’t ask about what?” Luca feigned ignorance. “You just overslept. Happens to everyone.” Barry mustered a faint smile. “Thanks. Now let’s find our engineer.” *** It felt good to finally visit a world not covered in dark matter or assailed by eternal storms. If anything, the world of Solai was the exact opposite of that, often sunny and warm, covered in lush forests and its oceans sprinkled with paradisiacal islands. Most creature in that world hardly posed a threat, except for the sea monster lurking on the blue depths. Luckily, they were bound for one of the islands, and not the depths. “Are you sure this is the right place?” Kramen asked Takol as they disembarked from the Infinity on a merry spaceport crowded with tourists and stalls selling alien fruit juices with tiny umbrellas. “Seems a little too good to be true.” “We’re on the wrong island,” Takol said, leading the way. “The one we’re looking for has no good landing spots, so we’ll need to do some sailing.” “Shouldn’t we bring the others along?” “Let them enjoy their Sundays for once,” Takol said as he bought two huge purple fruits with straws stuck on them, one for him and one for Kramen. “Besides, we both deserve a little vacation to a sunny beach for a change.” “Yeah,” Kramen smiled lightly, then flinched as if the gesture made his face hurt. “I suppose we do deserve it.” *** In terms of nature, Seeraim Island was just as pleasant as the spaceport, both surrounded by flowers and tall fruit trees, with small crustaceans running on the sand and friendly birds chipping from hay rooftops. The water was clear, with colorful fishes swimming around the old sail boats docked on the wooden piers. But the boats themselves had grown more disturbing from one island to the next. As had the people roaming the beaches and the village. “Red Star Pirates,” Kramen muttered upon seeing the logo on several of the boats. The rowdy characters with cybernetic eyes and metal hands and legs also gave it away. “Too much for that vacation.” “Just play cool,” Takol whispered as the boat they had rented pulled to the shore. “Don’t stare at their implants, don’t act scared, don’t act tough, just avoid acting altogether.” “Are you speaking from experience?” Kramen asked. “Kinda…” Takol shrugged. “I may have had a fling with the pirate queen a few years ago.” “Huh…” “What?” Takol asked. “Nothing… It’s just that when I picture a pirate queen I imagine someone with a ton of body and facial hair and more muscles than the two of us combined, not to mention some missing limbs.” “I’ll let you know you are very wrong! She wasn’t that muscular.” As Kramen laughed, Takol leaped out of the boat and onto the docks. As soon as his feet touched the ground, however, a huge man carrying a barrel of bolts and nails crashed onto the reptile, all the metallic pieces falling on the docks and rolling to the water. With a yellow smile of apologies, Takol looked up to the pirate, whose face was growing red as he snorted. The criminal, stabbed a thick finger onto Takol’s armored chest. “You’re lucky we’re in Seeraim, punk!” the pirate said, bending over to pick up the parts he could still recover. “I’d murder you anywhere else!” “What’s so special about Seeraim?” Kramen asked, coming out of the boat himself. “Whatever it is, we will ask somebody else,” Takol pushed his friend away from the stranger. Takol knew when to stop pushing his luck, and he had just gotten very lucky. Picking a fight with one pirate meant picking a fight with all pirates, and there was a whole lot of pirates around. “Do we know where to go from here?” Barry looked around at the vast docks. Most people around were busy loading boat with weapons and armor and unloading crates of parts and mechanical components. Not exactly the sort of commodities one would expect in a tropical island. Beyond the docks, a small village of simple huts spread up a hill. The further up, the less buildings and more vegetation, ending in a particularly big bungalow overlooking the coast. From the door of said bungalow, a line of pirates, explorers and adventurers in general had formed, stretching all the way down to the docks. Every person in line carried with them a container of mechanical parts or an outdated weapon or armor. Whoever left the house held new shiny items. Kramen and Takol glanced at each other. They had found their engineer. It would only take a few hours to get to him. *** The inside of the grand bungalow at the end of the line was as simple as the rest of the village, with just some wooden furniture and colorful decorative drapes and elaborate wooden totems. The difference was the sea of prototype weapons and armor, tools and spare parts. There was also a veil of smoke in the chamber, generated by the burning of incense, cigarettes and a lot of welding, all of which contributing to a confusing and stomach twisting stench. A mix of rap and reggae playing from a small cheap radio finished the bizarre scene. Aside from half a dozen mechanic drones floating from one side to the other to fetch the most assorted items, the only one in the room was a tanned human with short bleached hair. When Takol and Kramen walked in, he was bent over a rocket launcher, a weld at hand and active despite the presence of a rocket inside the very weapon he was working on. That was most certainly a violation of workplace safety guidelines. “Hello,” Kramen cleared his throat. “Sup?” the engineer didn’t look up. “You came empty handed? You dumb in the head? Ate the red flowers outside?” “No, but now I’m curious,” Takol took a peek at the red flowers outside the window. “We are not here for your services,” Kramen said. “Then unless you have a beer for me, please call the next fella in line.” “We’d like to make you a proposition,” Kramen said, slapping Takol’s hand as he reached for a red flower. “We are forming a Fantasy Stars Legends team…” “I’ll stop you right there, homie,” the engineer, Ybor, finally looked at his guests. “Been there, done that. Time for you to bounce.” “You don’t even know…” “What you’re gonna say?” Ybor crossed two strong arms over his flowery shirt. “You’re gonna get me to give you a discount promising to let me in on the team, then you’ll say there are new priorities and convince me to be your ‘sponsor’. Well, screw that, screw you.” “You don’t know who this guy is, do you?” Takol pointed at Kramen. “Look up Kramen Blacksky’s interview with Dani Sunbeam. We’re in it for the principle.” “Good for you!” Ybor beamed. “You may not believe that, but the fact is you would be a valuable addition to our team, and not because of your products,” Kramen added. “Not my products?” Ybor chuckled. “Then why? Because I’m so clever? So pretty?” “Because of your production method,” Kramen paced into the room, opening his arms and spinning amidst the six drones zooming about. “My drones?” Ybor was now genuinely interested in the conversation. “Out tank is a machine,” Kramen explained. “You and your drones would be responsible for maintaining its integrity.” “While also kicking ass,” Takol added. “Look around. If you’ve made all this crap, you can weaponize a drone or two.” “I didn’t know I could bring my drones into a FSL match,” Ybor noted. “You can’t,” Kramen confirmed. “But I’m the Spawn-Master. If I summoned a Solar League Hunter-Mech at the start of every match, how many drones could you make with the parts?” “Hunter-Mech model 1 or 2?” Before Kramen could respond, the wooden door behind him exploded, splinters raining all over the smokey room as a robot twice as big as DM3-C4 entered. A Solar League Hunter-Mech model 2. “That one,” Kramen pointed at the thing nonchalant as it charged its inbuild plasma cannons. “Ybor Sparkwork,” the machine spoke. “You are under arrest by authority of the Solar League for supplying assault weapons to the Red Star Pirate faction. Please drop the welding iron.” “Don’t mind if I do,” the engineer smirked, then lowered the device directly at the armed missile launcher on the workbench. The explosive immediately launched from its cylinder and crossed the room, atomizing the hunter-mech. Takol and Kramen ducked at the explosion, then turned wide-eyed to their newest friend. “There’ll be more,” Ybor said as he pulled a pistol from a nearby drawer. “How about we continue this conversation somewhere else?”
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