CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“Obviously, they’re well aware of and no doubt prepared for our arrival,” Harada said. He was giving the requisite pre-battle refresher on what the plan was. It helped focus agitated minds on their particular roles and distracted them from their own inward tension in the final moments of anticipation, which could be more of a strain than the battle itself.

They waited tensely for the final landing procedure, all eyes on the Vice-Commander. He was outwardly imperturbable, though his head was wreathed in the smoke of many recent cigarettes. “Our ship is small and could be privately owned, but we have to assume they’re assuming the worst, and have already prepared to meet us in battle. They are almost certainly going to lean heavily on the advantage they have in numbers. Yamamoto and Kyoko will go up first, covered by Saya’s gunfire if seen. If the rest of us do our jobs properly, however, they won’t be seen.”

Yamamoto had been quite startled to be joined by Kyoko in similar clothing to his own; she carried her naginata strapped over her shoulder, but otherwise was dressed as a ninja. He would have company – and help – for once.

“Remember that if you hear Gwyneth’s warning, you should plug your ears immediately,” Harada reminded them all. She was not planning to use the Banshee’s Voice unless it became necessary; they had arranged a signal for her to give if this happened, in the hope that those with her would not be as sorely affected by it as their enemies.

The ship finally landed, jarring them all slightly.

Kirito went up to the main exit hatch with Okada and Gwyneth, while Kyoko and Yamamoto prepared to exit the back way. Harada waited a moment longer, then nodded in both directions.

Kirito stumbled out of the hatch, carrying a mostly empty bottle of sake, his katana concealed beneath the voluminous folds of his crushed-looking hakama. “Oi,” he called, waving at the sentries posted on the other ship, who were whispering to each other tensely. “We seem to be on the wrong planet. Is there a beach here? Couldn’t find it, but we saw you docked here, so we thought we’d ask.”

There was no reply; the five sentries were now consulting in a group, looking back suspiciously at Kirito.

Gwyneth came out like a butterfly, giggling and simpering. “What did they say?” she asked in a voice that proclaimed its owner to possess less than nine functional brain cells. “Hey, guys, help us out, would you?” she called, waving in a wide arc that revealed her full breasts and generous cleavage.

The ninjas did not waste a moment; they were out the back hatch and crossing the deck even before Gwyneth came out after Kirito. Once she had, Kyoko and Yamamoto each leapt onto an anchor rope and from there climbed to the Hellfire Rising ship’s main deck, agile as squirrels.

The sentries were not complete morons, so they did not completely buy the drunken-lovers-looking-for-a-beach act; however, the distraction was sufficient for the purpose. The two sentries at the rear of the ship died almost silently, without sounding an alarm. None of the five sentries in front noticed Kyoko and Yamamoto; they also died silently, without knowing death had come for them.

This bought some time to open the gangplank for everyone else. It would not be very much time, as they all knew, so no one wasted a moment.

Harada was first up the gangplank; he was to take the starboard side of the main deck with Kyoko following him, sweeping that side thoroughly, inside and out. Kirito took the port side, followed by Okada. Saya swiftly climbed from the main deck to the top, where she was wreaking deadly havoc. Gwyneth went with Yamamoto to search below deck.

They searched for Thalia and killed or incapacitated anyone they encountered.

It was not long, of course, before someone realized there were bodies mounting up behind these silent invaders and raised the alarm. Once that happened, the invaders pulled out all the stops.

Kirito was unusually grim, and though he did not demonstrate the battle-madness that had gotten him dubbed the ‘Striking Serpent’, he left the deck behind him littered with blood and bodies. He never looked back or hesitated. He was searching for Thalia and Sekiguchi; until that task was complete, there was no room for anything else in his mind.

Okada was fine with this, given his own fierce single-minded concentration. He was almost as silent and swift as a ninja, his eyes and mind never still, the gravity of combat adding years to his youthful face.

Kyoko was like a machine, methodically clearing out all the enemies she encountered. She had parted company with the Vice-Commander, taking the side of the deck nearest the ocean while he took the inside half of the deck as well as checking inside the cabins. She had intended to stay with him, but he left her nothing to do, he was so thoroughly deadly.

Here by the edge of the ship, she found plenty to occupy her. Even the enemies who got close didn’t stand a chance; she never hesitated to stiffen her fingers and poke out a man’s eyes if she had to, and she was well-trained in lethal hand-to-hand combat without weapons. She preferred the naginata because of its extended reach, but she would also be fine without it.

Kyoko laughed in savage glee as she swung her spear and flung kunai; she had glanced up toward the top deck, and it suddenly struck her as comical the way Saya was flinging bodies off left and right. Her only weapon was her pistol, and she was not using that; the Bloodfire clan were deadliest with their bare hands, and sweet young Saya was no different once she got angry enough.

Yamamoto and Gwyneth made optimum use of the shadows and poor lighting in the bowels of the ship; Gwyneth’s empathy told her the locations of people who intended harm, whether or not they hid. Yamamoto’s short sword was swift and precise; Gwyneth did not flinch at death, and the only stop they made was for one small, terrified kitchen boy, no more than six years old, who had probably been kidnapped in the first place. Gwyneth picked him up and carried him on her hip, making soothing noises.

Kyoko finished first, having the least to do. She joined Saya on the upper deck to search the inside cabins, having decided Saya could handle the outside on her own.

Harada knew how to let fear and rage sharpen his skill in battle, and right now he was wild with both as he had never been before, like a fierce storm descending with passionate, devastating wrath. His entire formidable will was bent on finding Thalia, getting her back, then destroying the one who refused to stop hounding her. He knew and recognized several Mimawarigumi among the Hellfire Rising crew; one of them tried to surrender, but he did not even slow down.

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None of them made it far unscathed; by the end of five minutes every one of them was liberally sprinkled with blood, both their own and that of others.

***

Thalia warned Keiko to hold the baby close. “Stay low and right behind me; it’s already turning into a battlefield out there, so I’d like to get you and the baby off the ship while there's a clear path.”

She had gotten Keiko perhaps a third of the way across the deck toward the gangplank when the first Mimawarigumi officer – now barely distinguishable from Hellfire Rising; so much for their elitism – challenged her. He lunged at her with his katana; she ducked under the swing, then leaped, bringing her joined fists up to drive them into his throat, knocking him over backward. He grabbed her cravat, however, pulling her down with him.

Once she realized she was going down, Thalia rolled into the fall, loosening her cravat. She rolled over her opponent’s head, leaving her cravat in his grasp and her shirt gaping open where she’d lost a few buttons at some point. Oh well, Thalia thought, perhaps the cleavage would buy her time somewhere along the line.

She had not been permitted to keep her long knives, of course, but on her way to Keiko’s room earlier she had grabbed a small hatchet and a dagger. Thalia waited until her opponent rose and charged her, then swung the hatchet in a low, deadly arc, pulled it sharply to the right, and left him with the hatchet buried in his belly.

She wiped her bloodied hand hastily on her uniform as she ran back toward Keiko, trying to keep things as clean as possible for her and her child.

This was when Aoi found her.

He went straight after the hostages, not uttering a sound. She barely noticed him in time and threw herself at him, aiming her whole body directly at his head, neck, and shoulders.

She had aimed well, but he was expecting the blow and went with it easily. She was uncertain how it happened, but he ended up on top of her, crushing the breath from her and breaking two of her ribs.

“I should have killed you, no matter how beautiful your song is,” he said, his face inscrutable behind the reflective shades he always wore. His jaw was clenched. Thalia saw that he was distraught, and it made her fearful, though she did not know why. “I should have seen that you would destroy him, and now it’s too late.”

“W – what?” Thalia gasped, spots dancing in front of her eyes.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?” he asked, and got up, dragging her with him across the deck by her long red hair.

Thalia gritted her teeth and went without resisting, hoping Keiko would make it with the baby to the other ship.

Aoi stopped at the door to the captain’s cabin, Sekiguchi’s quarters, and slammed Thalia against the wall, which made her gasp and nearly pass out with the pain in her broken ribs.

The impact was directly below Saya’s current position, so she looked over the edge of the roof and saw a tall man with blue spiky hair and dark reflective sunglasses opening a door.

“This is your work, conniving bitch, and I won’t forgive you,” he snarled. He swung Thalia back around by her hair and let her fall on the deck. “Get up,” he said, but when she started to rise, he kicked her in the gut.

Saya screamed Thalia’s name, seeing blood fly from her mouth as she fell back again. Saya jumped off the roof onto the man’s shoulders, but he went with her attack and rolled her easily off him, sending her skidding into a pile of crates nearby.

Thalia had been stunned by the kick, but it was not as bad as it might have been, so she regained full consciousness without much delay. The left side of her face stung and throbbed where she had landed on it, and her eye was blurred with blood. Her mouth and nose were bleeding too, she knew. What a disgusting mess she was going to look for poor Harada, she had time to think wryly. She knew the serious problem would be her broken ribs; the kick from Aoi had shoved some sharp edges into an organ, judging by the blinding pain and the dark blood she kept having to spit out. She needed time to focus in order to channel her Faerie healing, and that was not going to happen on a battlefield.

By this time, Harada was actually in view, having heard Saya scream Thalia’s name with fear in her voice. His heart was in his throat as he stormed through whoever got in his way. He was still fifty yards away when he saw Thalia fall, her white shirt stained with blood he hoped was not hers.

When Aoi kicked her, Harada’s mind snapped; it was very much like what had happened when his brother was blinded, the first time he had gone into a blood fury. He roared with outrage, his vision washed in scarlet.

Aoi heard the enraged Vice-Commander running full speed toward him with murder in his soul, leaving carnage in his wake; every blow he struck was a killing blow, yet he never once slowed down. His song was death metal now, no softness or harmony, just ferocious intensity.

That man really is a demon, he thought, and grabbed Thalia again, determined that she would come face-to-face with what she’d done, and that he would kill her for it before he died. He would die soon afterward, but that made no difference. It would be worthwhile, so long as she died first. He dragged her toward the doorway, then thrust her into the cabin.

“Are you proud of what you’ve wrought, Demoness? Take a good, long look,” Aoi hissed. “I let your songs seduce me – first the ones you and your Demon-mate make separately, then the one you make together – into leaving you both alive, or this would never have happened. I don’t know how you killed Sekiguchi-sama's spirit, but you’ll pay for it by following him to the next world.”

Thalia gasped in shock upon entering the room, then stumbled toward the center, where she collapsed onto her knees, one hand over her mouth. She was no longer listening to Aoi.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to be, since Harada heard it loud and clear. He got to the room as the sword began its lethal descent and managed to leap between it and Thalia, raising his own sword to counter it. Aoi was very fast, but once Tetsuya adjusted to this knowledge, he exploited his relative lack of strength, pushing Aoi back away from Thalia.

Kyoko shrieked a warning from behind him just in time, and Tetsuya leaped aside as a quick but clumsy blade came crashing down on the place in which he had just been standing. Now he had two of them to deal with, Kyoko being preoccupied with fighting outside.

It was fortunate neither of his opponents was very strong, though both were fast. One was clumsy; he would be easier to get rid of quickly. Harada moved like quicksilver, feinting and dodging in such a way that his two opponents found themselves almost fighting each other somehow, and having to compensate in their blocking when the Demon Vice-Chief came at them from one side or the other.

In all this chaos, Thalia had not moved. Harada had not spoken, being too busy fighting, so she was still unaware of his presence.

She was genuinely shocked by what she saw. Sekiguchi had dressed all in white, set up an altar, prepared letters, and committed seppuku with one of her long knives, which he had confiscated when he brought her on board. He had fallen forward onto the small altar after slicing his belly, and his blood was now pooled over most of the floor. He was cold, and when she brushed his hair aside, Thalia saw his one eye staring past her, no longer reflecting his soul.

Grief for him opened within her like a dark pit, though she knew there was also a lurking sense of relief. She would not be hunted by him any longer. He would shed no more blood, cause no more pain, and perhaps next time he would find his true path again; perhaps next time he could find his own twin flame. Still, she would mourn him.

All the noise of battle had been passing over her head like so much static, but finally Harada spoke. He was still fighting Aoi, though he had killed the clumsier one. Two more came in and leaped at him, leaving Aoi a window of opportunity.

“Damn you, you think I’d let you?” he snarled at Aoi, who lunged at Thalia with his blade. Harada blocked it but had to expose his right side to one of the newcomers in order to do it.

Thalia looked up suddenly on hearing his voice, and saw his sudden vulnerability. She snatched her knives up and moved with the wind, darting under Tetsuya’s right arm to block the incoming attack and answer it. She crossed her knives, trapping the blade of the attacker, and pushed him back.

Her Fury had not manifested until this moment; she had been restraining it, not trusting herself to retain control while still in the vicinity of this haunted planet; but the cowardice and lack of honor in a warrior attacking someone already battling two opponents and clearly protecting a third person overwhelmed her good intentions – especially since it was her Tetsuya at risk, and it scared her how much in danger he had just put himself while she was not paying attention.

She saw Aoi coming at Harada; he was parrying already, and her blades were still occupied with the newcomer. Without conscious intention, a picture of flame appeared in her mind, and a glowing fiery snake lashed out at Aoi from her hair. It did not reach him, but he was thrown enough off-guard that Harada had time to finish the other guy and direct all his attention toward Aoi once more.