Aetheral Space-Chapter 536 - 17.8: The Captain and the Rangers

DAY 2

From what Atoy Muzazi understood, it was no simple task to travel between the Wards of Zepan. Even for actual citizens, travel was regulated heavily -- permission was needed from Auberon to leave your Ward even for a day trip, and that permission was rarely granted. For fugitives like them, it would be nearly impossible.

Nearly.

Haisley had drawn a curiously detailed map of Zepan in the dirt to lay out their best next moves. From Ward 8, they could proceed through the disused tram lines to get to either Ward 6 or 7. Those tunnels had been shut down after the event that had wiped out Ward 8's population -- it would be a longer trip than taking the tram, but walking the tunnels on foot was more than possible.

The only problem, then, was what they'd find on the other side. There would be a guard presence in both of the tram stations they could emerge from. Even if they were strong enough to break through such checkpoints -- which they of course were -- they'd basically be broadcasting their positions to stronger enemies like the Unseelie or Darkstar.

A shiver ran down Muzazi's spine. If he never encountered One Star again, it would be too soon.

So, they had decided to take out two birds with one stone.

Their group had split into two teams. Ruth and Reyansh would head for Ward 6. According to Haisley, there was a black market operation there -- if anyone was hiding themselves in Zepan, that was the best place to do it. To tell the truth, Muzazi had been wary of letting Reyansh out of his sight, but Ruth could more than handle herself if the need arose.

Meanwhile, the second group -- Muzazi, Wyrm, and Haisley -- would head through the tunnel to Ward 7. Their primary purpose was to create a distraction upon arrival big enough to draw the attention of the authorities away from Ruth's group, but they also had another goal. If Muzazi was going to fight in full force, he needed to deal with his injuries.

"My Aquarius Covenant can heal those easily," Brother Wyrm had insisted before they set out. "If I just take on the injuries myself, the Covenant can remove them from you."

Muzazi had refused. "I'm not having you butcher yourself to give me an advantage." This man's tendency to treat himself as disposable did not sit right with Muzazi at all.

The look on Wyrm's face had suggested he'd seen that coming -- and he'd already prepared a compromise. After a sigh, he'd continued: "Well… how about this?"

To tell the truth, even if he could get hold of Panacea, Muzazi had doubted he'd be able to get much benefit from it. The golden hours for his arm had long since passed, after all, and the remainder of his injuries would be best treated with stimulants to accelerate his natural healing. There was no way he was getting his hands on a prosthetic under these circumstances -- he'd resigned himself to one-handed battles for the near future.

However, while Aquarius Covenant did have a time limit as well, it was much longer than the golden hours for Panacea. If used soon, Wyrm had assured Muzazi that even his missing arm could be restored. He'd still refused, but then Wyrm had explained his plan in full.

Haisley had told them there was a sizable medical station in Ward 7 for the use of the Seelie Rangers, the local security force. It was sure to have Panacea stocked. That Panacea couldn't heal Muzazi's injuries, but if Wyrm transferred those wounds to himself to heal Muzazi, then Wyrm's body would certainly be within those golden hours.

And so the plan went. They would acquire the Panacea, and then Wyrm would heal Muzazi, and then they'd use the Panacea to heal Wyrm. It made sense, even if Muzazi still thought Wyrm was being too lax with his own body.

As they trudged through the tunnels to Ward 7, though, Muzazi glanced at the third of their group -- the young girl Haisley. Ruth had vouched for her, but Muzazi still couldn't help but feel having an Aetherless fighter for an operation like this would be more of a hindrance. Even if she had a great deal of knowledge about the city -- more than Muzazi would expect from a normal citizen, even -- that didn't mean she'd be able to stand up to an Aether-user in direct combat.

But Haisley had insisted she come along -- and, more than that, she'd insisted she be a part of Muzazi's group. Even now, she was sneaking glances at him every now and then. She'd seemed a rather dour girl on first impression, but right now she was practically beaming.

Eventually, as they reached the halfway point of their journey, Haisley finally spoke up.

"So, uh…" she said hesitantly. "Your, ah… I saw you fighting before. That tentacle guy. You did the thing with the sword -- that attack."

Wyrm visibly suppressed a laugh with his hand, and Muzazi shot him a glare for his trouble before turning back to Haisley.

"I did," he said seriously. "What of it?"

"So…" Haisley said, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked down at the ground. "Are you… you're his student too?"

Muzazi frowned. "Whose student?"

She looked up at him, her eyes burning with a sudden passion. "Nigen Rush, obviously!"

Atoy Muzazi's blood became cold water as he came to a halt. He lingered on the edge of the lantern's light, half claimed by shadows, his breathing trembling as he took in what Haisley had said. The girl stopped a second later too, frowning, clearly put off by Muzazi's reaction.

Wyrm's eye flicked between the two of them. "Who's Nigen Rush?" he asked.

"The greatest swordsman ever!" Haisley said, raising the lantern to get a better look at Muzazi. "Was I wrong? Do you not know him? You used the same move, though."

According to Ruth, Haisley hadn't even known what the Supremacy was. There was no way information about a single warrior of the Supremacy would reach her without her learning about who he belonged to. If that was the case, did that mean…

"He came here?" Muzazi asked quietly.

Haisley nodded, smiling. "Four years ago. He taught me how to fight."

"But…" Muzazi grasped at straws. "...the way you fight, the two swords with the reverse grip… that's not how Nigen Rush fought."

Haisley's smile just as quickly became a deep frown. "I had two teachers. One I loved, one I hated. Nigen was the good one. Do you know him? Do you know when he's coming back?"

Two answers drifted through Atoy Muzazi's mind, and for the life of him he couldn't tell which was the truth.

Never.

Right now.

Instead, he opened his mouth and forced out strained words:

"No. I don't know."

Ward 6 was gripped by a perpetual winter, but in terms of temperature it was the same as the rest of Zepan -- comfortable and mild. Anything else, the Captain supposed, would be unsuitable for Zephyr Pandershi's pets.

He watched through the blinds of the apartment he'd been given as the people of Ward 6 went about their business in the streets below. One thing he noticed straight away was that there was no uncertainty. Everyone knew exactly where they were going, and they knew the exact route to get there, and there was no need for them to stray from that path.

No. That wasn't quite right. It wasn't that they knew where they were going… it was that they were told where to go. This was a world of soft silk chains.

Well, Captain Hadrien supposed. Where better for the leader of Regiment RED to appear?

He'd gotten lucky in this Per Mutation ritual, appearing in this world nearly right next to a reliable partner. Their location, too, had been fortunate. Ward 6 had the closest thing to insubordination in Zepan -- the Black Market. Using a combination of their abilities and experiences, they'd been able to secure the protection of the Black Market's leader and some accommodations to use as a base.

Still, though… this Black Market wasn't like any underworld he'd ever seen.

Usually, in a society like this, a black market would develop as a way for citizens to acquire things that the state was failing to provide -- food, medicine, clothing, stuff like that. That wasn't the case in Zepan, though. Here, every need was fulfilled, almost to the point of obsession.

People did not go hungry in Zepan. People did not get sick in Zepan. People did not feel cold in Zepan. They weren't allowed to.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Zepan's Black Market was in the business of novelty, then. It sold scraps of information about the outside world -- episodes of old videograph shows, torn-out chapters from books, games from nearly forty years ago. What passed for news in Zepan did its best to paint the outside world as a lawless wasteland, but that didn't stop people from being curious about it.

Of course, Zepan was also a planet without money, and the lack of necessity also made a bartering economy difficult, so the Black Market operated on a principle of service. You would buy what you wanted using service to the Market in the future -- trading favours for fun. Even members of the Seelie Rangers used the Black Market, and so -- over many years -- it had grown to basically have control over the entirety of Ward 6.

Captain Hadrien didn't buy for a second that Zephyr Pandershi didn't know about this place. That control freak probably kept a close eye on individual households, not just entire Wards. The Black Market was allowed to operate because Pandershi thought it necessary. Perhaps 'rebellion' was another need that needed to be fulfilled, even if only a little.

He stepped away from the window, drawing the blinds. Perhaps Pandershi did tolerate the Black Market, but that was no reason for the Captain to advertise his presence. His partner was much better at blending in than him -- best to sit back and let them investigate for the time being.

As he headed towards the planning board they'd set up in the corner, though, the Captain paused. He'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It was funny -- he was probably the only participant in this ritual that didn't have the face of Dragan Hadrien.

His hand drifted up, past his wild silver hair, brushing against the bandages that were wrapped around his face. Through the gaps between those bandages, a scarred and burnt visage could be seen peering back. The last kiss of Elysian Fields.

Don't forget, he told himself. This is still your warzone.

The events he remembered on Elysian Fields had never truly taken place. The losses he'd taken had never truly happened. The journey he'd gone on had never even begun. He knew all of this was true. He knew this… and yet he himself was the sum of those false memories. There was nothing he could do but be controlled by them.

He pulled his red coat tight. That bright crimson was the closest thing he needed to a face.

We don't stop until we're done, he resolved. Right, Skipper?

Just then, as if on cue, the script in his pocket buzzed. There was only one person this could be -- his partner was skilled in hacking, and had managed to rig two scripts so that they could only communicate with each other, immune to eavesdropping. He took the device out and read the message.

Heard there was an incident at the old tram station and went to take a look. Guess who? ☆ Looks like one of those old friends you were telling me about!!

The message was accompanied by a picture -- and as the Captain looked down at it, his breath grew heavy and his eyes grew hot.

That war never burned. Those graves never filled. Those tears never shed. And yet. And yet…

…he couldn't just let Ruth Blaine die a second time, could he?

"Hm," Atoy Muzazi wondered. "Do you think this would suffice for a distraction?"

Haisley just looked on in awe, her mouth agape. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

"You can do stuff like this with Aether?" she breathed.

Indeed, Muzazi had made quite the display. He'd done the same thing as he had to that automatic earlier -- he'd used Radiant Ablaze to sprout thrusters from every surface, then sprouted thrusters from those thrusters, then thrusters from those thrusters… and so and so forth, until Ward 7's disused tram station looked more like a holiday tree than a building.

"Showoff," Wyrm muttered, smirking despite himself. Muzazi smirked right back. How strange it was to meet someone who had the face of Dragan Hadrien and yet was tolerable to be around.

They knew that their beacon had worked the moment they stepped out of the tram station.

"Burning hope!" barked a harsh voice.

"Shining resolve!" came the echo of a crowd.

Standing before Muzazi, Haisley, and Wyrm was a crowd of about twenty soldiers -- yes, they must have been soldiers -- wearing white spandex and bug-helmets, standing in perfect military formation. As they finished their call-and-response, though, each one of them struck a bizarre and flamboyant pose, arms raised and knees bent. A final proclamation rang out through the entrance.

"Go, Seelie Rangers!"

Wyrm raised his hands and clapped politely at the display. Meanwhile, Muzazi stepped forward onto the street. As he did so, his feet passed through the holographic flowers protruding from the pavement.

Each Ward of Zepan had a different aesthetic theme, and Ward 7 was no exception -- here, that theme seemed to be 'overgrowth'. Vines ran up the outer walls of the concrete buildings, vibrant flowers coated both the roads and the sidewalks, and the lights from above were filtered through the branches of massive trees. None of it was unpleasant, though. There were no insects swarming, no nettles stinging, no roots digging into structures. It was a very curated, sanitized sort of decay.

When Muzazi ignited his Radiant, the holograms around him disappeared, revealing the true sterile white of the street.

"The medical station is nearby, right?" he asked Haisley, voice low. "I'll deal with them here. You two go ahead."

"What?" Haisley looked at him, her eyes wide. "They're Aether-users, though!"

Oh, Nigen Rush. You didn't teach her very much, did you?

Even a failure like Atoy Muzazi had enough pride to be humiliated by such concern… but maturity enough not to be angered by the naivety of a child.

"Don't worry," Muzazi said. "They're nothing."

He stepped forward… and that alone was enough to bring him into the enemy's midst. Perhaps Wyrm had been right. Right now, presented with a disciple of Nigen Rush… Muzazi did feel like showing off a little.

The Radiant moved.

This should have been an easy battle. These men and women were not One Star. They were skilled, to be sure, but it was the skill of a collective. If Muzazi broke into their ranks and disrupted their synchronicity, they should have been reduced to the strength of individuals. However, one of the reasons Muzazi had even come here was to deal with his injuries -- and even after his rest in Ward 8, he was exhausted. Right now, he couldn't afford to give any fight anything less than his all.

The Radiant moved.

"Seelie Sword!" they cried, swinging their hands like blades.

"Seelie Shield!" they cried, holding out their palms.

"Seelie Gun!" they cried, pointing their fingers forward.

"Seelie Axe!" they cried, striking with their legs.

It seemed that the more members of the Seelie Rangers used an ability at once, the more powerful the result. Blades of electricity nearly sliced at Muzazi's skin, and shields of electricity blocked his strikes. He moved with all he had to avoid the barrage of surging shots, and he blocked with all his strength to withstand their mighty kicks.

This battle was not as easy as it should have been, and yet…

…the Radiant moved.

In the end, it had been a matter of time. Atoy Muzazi was standing in the midst of a pile of groaning bodies, panting for breath. He'd done his best to deal non-lethal wounds. From what he understood, these Seelie Rangers were just as indoctrinated as the rest of the Zepan populace -- they didn't deserve death. At some point, Haisley and Wyrm had disappeared from the square as per the plan. He vaguely wondered how long they'd been watching for.

"Seelie -- ah!"

The last of the Seelie Ranger squad squeaked as Muzazi turned his head to look at him. He'd been raising his hand to use that Seelie Sword ability, even though it surely would have been useless with just him. Muzazi narrowed his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I…" the Ranger gasped. "I…"

"Go," Muzazi said with force. "I don't want to kill the innocent."

He turned just a tiny bit more -- and that was enough to break through the Ranger's terror. The young man screamed, scrambling on his heels and running off down the street. Muzazi watched him go for a second… but only for a second.

After all, he'd been joined by real enemies.

"You spared them," a woman's voice echoed through the square. "That was kind of you."

Muzazi looked up, towards the huge tree that grew from the roof of the tram station. As he'd expected, the purpose of this Seelie Ranger squad had been to buy time -- they'd most likely been a local force -- while the true opponents arrived. According to Haisley… these people were called Unseelie, correct?

"I felt obliged," he replied. "Kindness felt like it would be in short supply here."

Two of them had come for him, both women. The one who had spoken was tall and blonde, clad in fur-trimmed armour, with a gnarled black battle-axe slung over her shoulder. Silver Aether pouring into his eyeballs, Muzazi looked a little closer at the ominous weapon. There seemed to be some kind of red liquid dripping from the weapon's blade. Blood?

Alarm spiked in his chest. These two… had they already gone after Wyrm and Haisley before arriving here?

It seemed like the woman had read his thoughts. "Don't worry," she said seriously. "This isn't blood… it's paint."

"Paint?" Muzazi frowned.

"Black Brush was one of the prides of Monadere," the woman replied. "And Monadere was the Land of Colour. It's only natural it would be ready to paint, no?"

Monadere. That had been the nation that had held Pandershi Foundation's place in the UAP Central Governing Council previously. The disaster known as the Colourless Light had brought an end to them, however -- these days, nothing remained of them save for the blasted ruins of their homeworld and the nomadic Monadere Refugee Fleet. Was this woman a survivor of theirs, then?

"Hey, are you done chatting?" the other woman said, her voice bold and brash. "I came here to hit something, not yap all day."

The other woman was wearing a short red cheongsam, her dark hair jagged and uneven, her red eyes keen. Compared to her companion, though, she was tiny… and yet the branch she was squatting down upon seemed to be creaking under her weight. She ignored it, looking down at Muzazi with the beginnings of a grin forming on her face. Now that was the sort of expression he was familiar with -- a desire for violence that would fit right at home in the Supremacy.

It would begin in mere seconds. Muzazi braced himself.

Right now, he was on the edge. His body was broken. Exhaustion seemed to pour through him alongside his blood. Pain radiated from half-a-dozen injuries, old and new. At this point, all he had at his disposal was his resolve.

Well… it had never failed him before.

Atoy Muzazi re-bolstered his Radiant, and leapt up into the fray.