Tower Bound (L 1.4, E 1.3)

Location: Downtown Archipelago - The Tower docks
Time: evening


Litch,

With Kes at your side, you rode your jet skis to The Tower to meet up with Edmund. You pull your skis up to the Tower Dock. It's pitch out except for the torches in sconces to indicate the pier and the few electric lights in the harbormaster's office. You know Dremmer will have his Team on you soon to make sure you aren't a threat. Your skis are too small to draw notice from the guns on top of The Tower, but Dremmer's team has guns they aren't shy about using.

Entrance to Crystal Court isn't difficult for the Talons. Why is that? Have you helped Millions out in the past? Or Dremmer? Or is it something else?

When Roark comes your way, he gives you and Kes a nod. He's got his AK, but the barrel is aimed at the dock, not a threat.

What do you do?

Somehow, the ride we've made dozens of times from our sanctuary to the Tower feels like it was three times as long as it normally has been. Perhaps it's the darkness; more likely it's the heaviness of the day's events. We pull up dockside, as close to Dremmer's guards as we can. No sense in making them walk extra steps to check us in if that can be avoided.

We're on good terms with both Millions and Dremmer. The former has often hired us for various hits and shakedowns, and once even to get his boy out of a sticky situation at Poseidon's Belly when he went to hobnob with the flotsam of the city. Poor sod thought thought nobody would dare to touch him in the fighting pit, because of who his daddy is. I don't recall who he was fighting before we started a separate bar fight that got rowdy enough to close down the whole joint, giving Dremmer and his boys time to ferry out the young buck, and take all of the credit. I don't know who told Millions what really happened, but I don't care. Two fish with one hook. Three if you count Dino...or whatever the boy's name is.

I'm helping Kestrel off of her ski as Roark ambles over toward us. I give him a polite nod as I tie the watercraft to the mooring. "Good evening, Roark. How is your family?" I think I recall that he has children, but keep the question of his familial relationships vague, just in case I'm mistaken. "We're here to see Mister Sterling. Are we clear to go in?"

"I'd be delighted to pray for them, my friend. And...thank you for the warning. That's good advice." As we stride toward the main building, I can hear the subtle intake of breath from Kestrel as the dock chief approaches us, speaking to me but eyeing her. I don't care for Dremmer; Kestrel despises him. Yet, a good working relationship with this gatekeeper is a necessary evil. A lusty gaze from Dremmer is ultimately harmless.

"Sergeant Dremmer", I address him with a title that gives a nod to his authority, even though it's not a rank he has been bestowed. "Millions treating you well, I hope?" I don't mention the reason for our visit, hoping my humble demeanor and conversational tone is enough for him to let us bye.

I move forward as Kestrel steps back, directing Dremmer's attention to me. "As he should be, with how deftly you pulled his boy out of the fire." I cross my arms, with one finger held to the side of my growing stubble. I should have taken time to shave before coming over to this palace of lights. "We're always looking for work, Dremmer. Do you have something in mind at the moment?" Before he can continue, I turn to Kestrel. "Darling, would you run ahead so our appointment isn't canceled? I need to go over important business with the Sergeant here." The tone is intentionally patronizing. I hope she recognizes my intent to get her away from Dremmer. Otherwise, I'll hear about it later.

Kestrel picks up what you're putting down and she ducks her head submissively before scurrying off. Dremmer takes the chance to stare at her zok, even though he probably can't see dren in the night. Once she's gone, he moves a step closer, close enough you can practically taste his acrid aftershave.

I don't kill for jingle, though a fair wage for a fair day's work is necessary. Keeps mercenaries like us from rioting and the world from descending into total anarchy. Our targets are often rivals in the industry of death or those who dance so close to mortality's edge in their high-risk livelihoods that a bounty placed on their heads doesn't come as a surprise. "Perhaps. Though we don't deal in contracts and we take our wages at the end of a job. If we decide for any reason to abnegate, we walk and you keep all of the payment. Quick and quiet? Aye, we can do that. But, " I hold up a palm to him, "If you object to those terms, keep the target's identity to yourself. Otherwise, please proceed."

Edmund,

After cleaning everything up at your master's place, you headed down to Crystal Court to try to find Litch, right? Well, you found Millions at neo eating with various members of the families along with Canary in a pretty sunflower-yellow dress. Also, Kestrel is here - she's near the entrance to the Crystal Court, keeping an eye on things as she waits.

What do you do?

A piece of me feels relieved to see Kestrel, but then I catch sight of Canary. Like a cable that has slipped from its pulley, my intentions come crashing down around me. A flame ignites in my chest. Did she know what was going to happen? I begin to storm toward her, intent to piece together her connection with Blue Light, but then I realize with whom she is speaking. Millions is right there. The flame in my chest turns into a lump in my throat.

Taking a deep breath, I find my resolve. I need answers. I stride to the entrance of noa.

Edmund,

A guard standing outside neo reads your angry demeanor and speaks quickly into his hand and moves to intercept you. "Mr. Sterling," he says calmly. He's about your size, has a bulge in his suitcoat that barely hides his magnum. "Can I help you, sir?"

I look the guard up and down before gazing beyond trying to catch a glimpse of those inside neo. "I was simply hoping to have a word with Ms. Canary. Though I can see she is with more prestigious company."

His touch makes me startle.

"Master Dinero." I bow as much as I can without pulling away from his hold on my shoulder. "I’m honored by your view of me. Your assessment is correct. Tonight, I’m finding myself quite out of my element."

I smile at him. The smile is authentic but also masks a fear I have of him and his family. "When did you become so insightful?" I muse.

"Ah." I say "That would make me wary too. Those who have been burned once do not carelessly hold their hand over the flame." I decide to switch tactics. Truthfully, I'm curious who Dremmer wants assassinated. I take a half-step closer to Dremmer, angling my head conspiratorially. "You are clearly quite upset at this man who crossed you, my son." I murmur softly, soothingly. "I...cannot simply take a contract without first consulting the spirits. But...they rarely say no. Who do you need eliminated, my friend?" I coax. I should have known better than to state my own terms before getting as much information out of him as I could.

The name I'm given presses on an angry minor chord within me, but not because it belongs to someone likable. I've killed favorable acquaintances before. I wouldn't even balk if a friend were the target, though my method would be merciful. I'm irked because of the pettiness. Can't take care of your own house, eh? Dremmer must be truly incompetent if he needs to hire a professional for such a low-level bounty. Unless there's more to this that I simply do not know. That has to be it.

I stare at him for eight heartbeats, studying, pondering. Maybe I take the job, maybe I decline...maybe I do something else entirely.

He's telling the truth. He's pissed at Roark and afraid he'll take over the team, so he wants his hands "clean" when he's taken off the board.

My focus swims forward to his facial expressions. I see anger, obviously, but there is a slight dilation in the pupils, his jaw tightens and becomes more square. I think Dremmer is frightened, or at least nervous. About what? Me declining his offer? Or is there more to the laid-back Roark than the family man presents? Finally, I respond. "I'll be careful." I declare. Then I turn away, my back facing him and I head inside.

Edmund,

After Dinero heads into the restaurant, you notice Kestrel glancing toward the entrance to Crystal Court. Litch has arrived. But, you have an invitation to go into noa and talk to Canary.

What do you do?

Litch,

Kestrel meets you at the doors and indicates with her head over to noa, where you see Edmund.

What do you do?

Convenient that both parties I want to talk to are here, I think to myself as I follow Kestrel’s attention to Litch, but I don’t know when I would get another opportunity to talk to Canary and Millions like this.

I follow Dinero into noa.

Just as soon as I enter the building and see the man who was the entire reason for my journey here, he ducks into a well-illuminated and well-guarded dining area. I halt just inside the building's entrance with Kestrel. I don't follow Edmund; I wasn't invited and I won't intrude. Instead, we wait. I put my palm on Kestrel's shoulder and lean in to murmur into her ear. "Dremmer wants to hire us to kill his pal, Roark. Says he cost him a payout." I lift my head to look her in the eye, gauging her response.

Edmund,

Please go here.

My eyebrows lift. I had forgotten about the haul we took from the Rafters. "I left it open-ended. I'd rather kill Dremmer for free than take out Roark for jingle. But neither is worth our time." I lift the hat off of my head and comb my locks back, smoothing them before putting it back in place. "I've half a mind to warn Roark, but the dock hands need to work our their own sh*t. It's not my place to be the judge over another's house."

I glance back over at the restaurant. "I imagine he'll be some time. If we're going to wait, let's at least do it off of our feet." I guide her toward the water falling from infinity to splash on the floor. In a world surrounded by water, only these rich asshats would think a waterfall is soothing.

Kestrel's reminder makes my eyes sting and the back of my throat constrict. I've lost friends, siblings, cousins and children into the care of the Gray Wing. Lost isn't the right term, as we subvert death and reclaim it as an honorable rite. But whereas the departure of an adult is full of both sorrow and joy, the death of a child is always tormenting. Mortality rates are high for the young ones. Infants are hard to care for. That's not what Kestrel is referring to, but I think about the babes that never got the chance to take flight with the Talons.

Mynah and I had a little boy, Ouzel, who drowned in an accident ten years ago. Sandpiper was my other daughter with Kestrel. She almost made it to ten years. She died in the boating accident that also took my mother. At least she was ushered in to the afterlife with a guide. Small comfort. Two other children didn't make it past eighteen months. Disease of some kind stole them.

I take a deep breath and breathe out a deeper sigh. "I don't. He may have not wanted to." I'm reminded that Helix turned down my offer for her to come stay with us. I wonder where she is now? I cut off that query in my mind and continue. "Our way can be too much for some people. Too odd or too dangerous. They don't understand how fragile and empty life outside of a family truly is."

I caress the back of her head gently. "I too worry, Kes. Some wounds take us to the edge of despair and make the jump look more enticing than risking another heartache. Do you...do you ever wish we had tried again...after Plover?"

"Indeed." I smile as she laughs. "You're worth more to me than merely a method for producing more Talons, Kes." Both of you are. "And I didn't mean to suggest those we've lost can be replaced." I sit silently for half a minute, reflecting, before continuing and changing the tone. "Well I'd say it suits me right now." I move my hand from her head down to the back of her neck, pressing firmly and tilting her head up slightly. "But we'll act our age for once and wait until we get back home, eh?"

"As to that," I clear my throat and readjust my seat to a more comfortable position. "I think we may be able to convince another faction to take her out for us. Remember the vision I had earlier of the Shark Eater stealing from us? Well, perhaps we can use that as our leverage. A shield from retaliation by the Sippians. Any one of us is worth six of them, but they do outnumber us." It's not that I'm afraid of losing more Talons in a gang war. We all anticipate dying in battle. To perish in combat is more glorifying than expiring in a bed. But I'm not going to waste the lives of my family either.

"And if they don't go for that - which is possible - then...Well, I'll tie off that loose cord myself."

I'm not upset with her reaction to my half-formed plan. It is not common the Ashen Talons to outsource their prey to others. It simply isn't our way to ask others to do things on our behalf. So why am I thinking about doing so now? Perhaps I've allowed myself to dream of a different sort of life. Maybe I do wish for my children to live to the ripe age of fifty and beyond and to flourish. And it's possible I'm engaging in an unconveyable fantasy.

"Aye, maybe I'll do that instead. Merlin would certainly relish getting revenge." I say, not committing one way or the other. "Hm...I've thought about all of the reasons why not. Sorrow tends to win out in most cases. She was so full of fire, so committed to the Gray Wing, to our family. Executing her felt like punishing her for surviving when others did not."

I swallow and push my tongue into the side of my cheek, oblivious now to Kestrel's dislike of the habit. "Mother and Piper didn't survive, but Harpy did. I thought...maybe the Gray Wing intervened to spare her and..." My voice fades. I look up towards the ceiling, hunting for the source of the waterfall as I collect my thoughts. "It doesn't matter. It was a weak moment. I am permitted one, I suppose. But I cannot afford to have a second."

As you sit with Kestrel and chat, you notice a woman in a dark suit - one of the Crystal Court guards, is making her way toward the two of you. She's armed, but it's in a holster. She's talking into her hand as she approaches.

What do you do?

Before I can respond, I see a moving figure in my peripheral vision. I swivel my head slowly and observe the guard heading over to us. With languid motion, I unwrap my arm from around Kestrel's shoulders and stand up to receive the incoming guard, hands at my sides in an unthreatening posture.

The new ones always seem to be overzealous in their patrols. It's not the first time I've been confronted for lounging in the Crystal Court, but the previous fellows haven't been this polite. "Not a thing, John, but a person. We are hear to meet Mr. Edmund Sterling. He had to step away momentarily. Could you take a message to him from me?" I respond to her question with equal decorum, though I keep my face neutral.

The guard's mouth pinches in ever so slightly and her eyes widen a millimeter. It's too brief to read exactly what feeling she's experiencing, but I mentally file it away. "No, I have not heard about Princy. Did he perish?" The citizens here tend to think that I am some sort of undertaker, based upon my physical features, dress and mannerisms. Those who know my gang are convinced that I am a either a mortician or a priest or both. I assume that is what John is referring to.

I let her ramble. It allows her to process and it gives me information. A hit on Princy, eh? How interesting. It'd be nice to use this as leverage somehow, but at the moment I can't think of how to utilize it to my advantage. Information is still useful, if only for the future. "Perhaps it is best if you escort us to Mr. Sterling, in case my services are needed?"