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It was now late at night and almost everyone were sleeping, but Thomas wasn't. He was in his lab, surrounded by dozens of empty bottles and lab tubes, very concentrated at mixing different liquids and powders together, trying to get the perfect chemical balance for what he was making. After he poured a tube of clear liquid to a larger one that was filed with a bubbly greenish one he raised the second tube and smiled. He shook the large tube and happily watched as the the two liquids mixed together and created a white residue at the bottom of the tube. Thomas dried the liquid, after it fried the residue became a white powder and Thomas placed the white substance on a clean piece of paper.

"Now it's time to see how it works" he said happily as he took a very small amount of the powder using a long spoon like tool and grinned towards a white lab mouse that sat quietly in his cage and stared back at Tom. Tom then placed the powder on a small piece of cheese and pushed it through the cage. The cute little mouse moved towards the tool and ate the cheese happily, then the mouse's eyes changed, they became cruel and seemed to be filled with fire. The small mouse went up on his hind legs and walked steadily towards the cage's bars. It grabbed a couple of them and easily bent them then continued to walk out of his cage.

"It works!" cried Tom happily, barely regretting the mouse's escape. He then cheerfully turned towards his table and wrapped the remaining powder with the paper.

"Seems to be enough for two doses" he said to himself "I wonder who will be the one to take it"

Jeth hastily got off the ship and headed toward Port Garona, speedily breaking away from the rest of the group with a “See ya there.” He thought he might have heard someone yell to wait (Randolph, most likely), but ignored it. Jeth put his hand to his chin began thinking, trying to decide his next action. If he were one of the most wanted pirates in the East Blue…he would not react well to a Marine (or 8) prowling around. Jeth stopped and looked around, trying to find the shopping area. Soon enough, he was there, looking at the various stores. Most stores were closed, so Jeth headed toward one that was lit up. As he approached, he saw a woman who looked like she was cleaning up for closing inside. Jeth entered, which cause a bell above the door to ring, which made the woman jump.

She pulled a pistol out of nowhere and pointed it at Jeth. “Get out! I’ve had enough trouble!” She yelled angrily.

Jeth took a step back and put his hand out defensively. “Hey! Don’t shoot.” Jeth said, calmer than most people would be with a gun pointed at them. “Besides, you only have one shot, so save it for a pirate,” he reasoned. Now that he has a better look, the store was in shambles. Windows were broken; racks of clothes and shelves with other goods were knocked over; glass shards and pieces of jars and pieces of things no longer recognizable littered the floor.

The woman lowered her weapon and began, “Oh you’re a Marine. Thank God. Ruffians have been messing-“

“I have no care for your store,” Jeth interrupted. “I just want a change of clothes.”

The woman looked as if she had been slapped, “But you’re a Marine!”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Jeth snapped. He didn’t want the wrong people to hear.

“But you’re supposed to handle stuff like this!”

“When did I say I wasn’t going to?” Jeth paused. When the woman didn’t speak, he continued, “I only said what they did to your store isn’t my concern.”

“…So you’re going to capture the ruffians?” she said happily.

“Kill more likely, but yes,” Jeth said, not bothering to mention they were probably pirates. He walked toward a pile of clothes on the ground and bent down and picked up ones he liked and brushed dust of them. “Do you have a changing room?”

After Jeth had changed into a white short sleeved shirt under a light brown, open, buttoned long sleeved one and long, black, pants, he dropped some money on the ground next to the woman, who had gone back to cleaning, and left. As he exited, he heard her request, “Get those guys.” Jeth simply acted as if he didn’t hear her.

***
Now out of the shopping area, Jeth decided to follow orders and find the inn, though it was much darker now. “Let’s see…where is the ‘Prowling Lion’…fuck,” Jeth thought aloud when he realized he didn’t know where it was. Jeth would have to ask someone else if he found them, maybe he could find one of his crewmembers, if they broke away like he did. Jeth sighed and regretted his recent actions. Why couldn’t he have just done this later? He broke into a run, trying to find the ‘Lion’ as quickly as he could, cursing every now and then.

Randolph nervously tapped his fingers against the wooden surface of the chair on which he sat, and noticed how Mira and Jeth were still missing from the assembly at the Prowling Lion. What were they up to? Could it be that they had been attacked while strolling about in Port Garona? Randolph was worried, and although he tried to keep calm, he could not when it came to his own crew; the people he had the responsibility for. If this was a protective complex or a failure complex, Randolph did not know, but he would not let them die or disappear.
A loud sound from the back of the room announced the arrival of the innkeeper and it meant that the doors would be closed very soon; on this island, keeping your doors open at night, was no intelligent business, and “visitors” from Port Garona would make use of an opportunity of that calibre.
Randolph bowed towards the elderly innkeeper and found a decent payment for the stay; they would be paying on daily basis due to the danger involved in the mission. As soon as the innkeeper had exchanged a few words with Randolph of the security and confidentiality, the crew was dismissed, and everyone except Mira and Jeth, still missing, entered their rooms to rest; they all knew tomorrow would be the first real day of their mission and hopefully a point of turning for their careers. Randolph wished them a good night, aware that he would get ignored by the most of them, and fell on the bed exhausted. Boat trips were fine, but he would avoid them any day, mostly because of the repetitive scenery. Before falling into slumber, Randolph muttered some unclear words and threw the extra pillow towards the left corner.

Outside, Port Garona was filled with thick mist stretching through the streets, and the whole city soon fell under a curtain of mist; this was one of those night’s when mysterious murders and things you could read in the exiting books, would happen, and it was certainly a perfect night for thieves and other scum who were seeking for either excitement or simply filling their bellies with food.
Nevertheless, five streets away from the Prowling Lion, a group of masked men stood in a heated discussion where the there were issues about how they would execute their orders. The man standing in the middle, who apparently was the leader of the group, was speaking with a perfectly controlled yet curt voice:

”Ye Swab! Them Marines be unskilled! We can’ just jump in an’ make a ruckus!”

The fat man laughed with a disturbingly girly voice:

“Curse yer hide, makin’ me the fool! They be sleeping when we enter, and we’ll squeeze them lads apart!”

The leader answered back, and concluded the foolish conversation:

“Yarr…them swabs be very near…let’ sneak on ‘em and assassinate!”

The group laughed merrily together and followed the route which followed several back alleys and a few backyards concealed by the mist. Soon enough, they saw a window on the first floor of the inn enlightened by a light, and knew they had come to the right place. The orders he had received 12 hours ago from people who were rumoured to be in league with the famous pirates, Walker and Graynor, and they had received a huge payment for such an easy mission. Had they ever had an easier mission than killing a few Marine people while they were sleeping? Though he considered it being some kind of fraud, he was entirely sure that his group was not nearly powerful enough to have cooperation between pirate and Marines to capture them; that was fool’s talk.
After a wait of around twenty tedious minutes, the leader beckoned his men forward, and they all moved into a circle in front of the main door. Their lock specialist performed his miracles, and soon they moved into the lobby of the Prowling Lion. Silence filled the room, and there was no sound from above.
In a matter of seconds, the group had moved upstairs, and they were eagerly awaiting the leader’s orders on going in and finishing the Marines off. In fact, the fat man with the girly voice was drooling, drooling! Almost as if he was awaiting some grand meal inside.

Suddenly, like from the mist, the leader turned behind him and saw one of his comrades… stuck on the door, both of his hands pierced by knives. The painful scene was continued with one of the men falling dead on the spot and a female person yelling: “Nice throw, Taro!”
Then, the horrible massacre was continued by a agonizing screech from the guy standing at the edge of the room; a large muscular man had broken the guy’s jaw, and seemed to be enjoying the fight itself as, the leader himself fell on the floor with immense pain on his torso. As he fell, he saw the shade of a man…or a woman, beating his swords with an immense speed and power around him, destroying even the constructions of the inn as he continued. Three of his comrades fell, and when he was about to scream “retreat!” with the last breath he could muster, he was pierced by…a doctor with a….syringe.

Then, the fat man with the girly voice ended up in between Sera's attack, Alex' furious fist and Taro's knife; a second before feeling the impact of the attacks, he proudly pronounced, with a girly voice:

“These Swabs be skilled…”

Alex stood, curtly, watching the sight of the dead men and cursed the shortness of the fight and the lack of skills of his opponents.
Behind him, Sera, with her keen eyes, noticed how the leader was holding onto something, and jumped to pick it up. Swiftly, upon snatching it, Randolph took it and read from the paper:

“At the Prowling Lion, a group of Marines are stationed and ready to commence a mission which will compromise our handlings at this island. Therefore, I wish for you and your group to assassinate the whole group, preferably without leaving any traces, and then, report back to us at the Fountain just ten streets away from the inn; we will be awaiting you at 1-2 am.
Failure is not an option,”

The rendezvous was going to happen in 3 hours, and Randolph’s worries about Mira and Jeth were growing…

“So, what do we do?”

Last edited by Slackbeard (2007-09-21 06:27:50)