“M-Mazurka City m-massacre…?” Ren stammered, completely dumbfounded. Her hands trembled. Her legs slowly started to give out. “W-what…?”

Lulupo rushed over to hold her.

“It says the entire town was razed. All twenty thousand citizens were killed, many unrecognizable due to how many bullets they were shot with,” said Roxanne, solemnly reading the news out.

Ren couldn’t even cry or maintain her drawl. Her expression became a thousand yard stare and her head tilted downward. “Kowalski…” was all she was able to say as she thought back to how he took her in after her parents died. She collapsed completely into Lulupo’s arms, still not crying after the shock.

“The feds are accusing Shaska, and by extension, all of us, of the crime,” Roxanne continued. “Shaska is public enemy number one now. Even more than Alphonse, or Bensieg, or Luckiano…”

“Those… bastards…” Shaska growled, so furious she bit through her cigar.

Schwarz crossed his arms and bowed his head. “Well, it was obviously that fed deputy. Izmena, was it? The boss must have pissed her off so bad that she torched the city as revenge, and the brass went along with it for some reason…”

“They can’t have news of a rogue officer leveling a city getting out,” Shaska explained. “That would be a PR disaster for the feds. The federal government would most likely face a violent uprising if the truth were revealed. The entire country would fall apart, just because of that officer’s bruised ego.”

“We’re wanted now. All of us,” Roxanne continued.

“Even us, Roxie…?” Andy peeped.

“Even us,” she said, pulling out a stack of wanted posters.

She laid out the posters one by one, revealing photographs on them that were secretly taken during the Mazurka City incident. Due to the severity of the crime, everyone even remotely associated with Shaska now had a massive bounty.

Ren was worth eighteen thousand losas. She said nothing.

Zinnia, twenty one thousand. “I am… wanted…?” she wondered aloud.

Andy, Roxanne, and Carne were each worth five thousand. “This… This isn’t the fun adventure we signed up for…” Andy muttered as Roxanne clung to him.

Schwarz and Lulupo had bounties of fifty thousand each. “Oh dear…” was all Lulupo could choke out as he held onto Ren.

But Shaska herself, pinned as the mastermind of the operation…

One million losas for her head.

The crew stood there in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

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Meanwhile, at the fed base in the city of Gokashi, special agent Abelard received the news of the massacre in his dimly lit office. To say he was unhappy would be an understatement.

“YOU IDIOTS!” he roared at his subordinates, Johnson and Franco. “YOU ABSOLUTE FOOLS!!”

The two junior feds cowered in terror with looks of deep shame on their faces.

“YOU TWO COULD HAVE BROUGHT SHASKA IN! AND YOU DIDN’T!! So you know what she did?? She and her crew MURDERED AN ENTIRE CITY’S WORTH OF PEOPLE!”

“Sir, we had no idea she wou–” Franco tried to say, but he was quickly cut off.

“YOU TWO ARE LUCKY I DON’T HAVE YOU FIRED AND PROSECUTED RIGHT NOW!!”

“Sir, we’re sorry,” Johnson tried to say, nervously looking at Franco. “But if we tried to catch her, we–”

“SORRY??! You’re SORRY??!! The worst peacetime massacre in world history just happened and all you can muster up is SORRY??!” Abelard shouted, tearing the paper apart in his rage. “May I remind you, TWENTY THOUSAND PEOPLE ARE DEAD DUE TO YOU MORONS’ DERELICTION OF DUTY!!”

Franco and Johnson stood there in silence, faces dimming into thousand yard stares as the weight of their negligence hit them like a freight train.

“You know what you two loons are going to do? You’re going to get an airship, and some men, and follow them to the Panipuri Kingdom!”

“The Panipuri Kingdom, sir?” Franco asked.

“That’s right. Paper says they had the prince with them, so that’s their most likely hideout.”

“But, Abelard, sir, the Panipuri Kingdom is on the other side of the world,” Johnson said. “That’s completely out of our juris–”

Abelard shot Johnson a death glare, shutting him up immediately. Abelard took a deep breath. His next statement was calm, but barely masked his rage.

“Johnson, you sniveling twerp, you will follow my orders. The president is soon to be on the phone with the crown prince of Panipuri to make sure that Shaska is turned over to the federal authorities of Losan, lest there be an all out war. And you two idiots are going to be on the front line of that operation to make sure it goes smoothly. Do you understand…?”

Abelard breathed a heavy sigh, then punched the wall behind him with his Aether, leaving a hole in the cinder blocks. “Do you two idiots understand? You are not to come back here without Shaska. In a body bag, if necessary.”

“Sir!” exclaimed the two agents as they saluted.

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In the capital of the United Provinces of Losan, Oppidapolis, President Warhard Gamaliel (an older man with big, bushy, eyebrows) gathered in the Situation Room of the presidential mansion with his top advisors, both civil and military. Discussions of the previous day’s events in Mazurka City ran hot. The room was dimly lit, with a clock ticking ever so loudly in the background.

“We can’t allow this to stand,” said Gamaliel. “The officer in charge of this massacre should be brought to justice immediately. Execute her in public. Brutally, if you must. This. Cannot. Stand.”

“Mister President, if you do that, the entire reputation of Losan on the world stage will be tarnished, nay, destroyed,” said General Persh (commander of the Losanian forces during the Great War). “The only sensible option is to pin this on Shaska, who the public already distrusts after her–”

“YOU CALL THAT JUSTICE?!” Gamaliel shouted.

“I call it political reality,” Persh continued. “All your years in the Losanian Senate should have prepared you for the reality that there are some things that the general public should be left unaware of.”

“I’m sorry, general, do I need to remind you that twenty thousand Losanian citizens are dead? The people deserve swift, decisive action. They trusted me to protect them, and I cannot stand idly by while this rogue officer destroys that trust. This Izmena character needs to be court-martialed immediately and put to death for her actions that led to the deaths of TWENTY. THOUSAND. INNOCENT. LIVES.” He punctuated the last few words by banging on the table with each word.

“Mister President, sir, the FIIG has already issued a million losa bounty for Shaska’s head,” said FIIG director Jedhoov. “The narrative is already out, Mr. President. The people want Shaska’s head, and they’ll get it, one way or another.”

“By Serenicus, Jedhoov…” Gamaliel groaned as he pinched his brow. “Any day now there’ll be conspiracy theories popping up about how Mazurka City was an ‘inside job’. And do you know what? It basically was! If the truth comes out, not only will the reputation of Losan be destroyed, so will my re-elect chances!”

The advisors looked at each other askance, then looked back at President Gamaliel. “Is… is your re-elect effort your primary concern, sir?” Persh asked.

“Of course not! As president, my aim is to protect my citizens! And now an entire town is destroyed by a rogue officer! I don’t care about re-election—this time. But if this blows up, there won’t be a country left to govern.”

“But now that crazy dame has us over a barrel,” said Jedhoov. “If only there were some way to bribe one of the men under her so that we could get him to spill the beans. A whistleblower.”

The president sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, thinking for a moment. “Here’s what we’re gonna do: Shaska and the prince of Panipuri should be on their way to the Panipuri Kingdom to hide. They’ve got a civil war brewing, but I’d guess their line of thinking is that anywhere is better than the Provinces.”

“What about Piscomare?” asked Persh.

“Shaska’s name is mud there after her financial crimes got out,” replied Gamaliel, leaning back in his chair. He looked at the wall, where a world map of every place the Losanian government was involved was marked. “I’m going to make a public announcement later today when we visit the rubble of Mazurka City. We’re going to hold Panipuri’s feet to the fire to make sure they don’t hide Shaska. Ugh… all this, on top of those damn Minus World kooks that you guys have been telling me about. We can’t be dealing with this just after a world war…”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

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Worldwide Smoke ate breakfast together in silence as the ship’s autopilot kept the course after managing to slip past the Losanian border and into international skies. Everyone but Carne had a stiff drink to go with their food; they really needed it.

The quiet was broken when Samudra sheepishly spoke up. “What do we do? I cannot return to my homeland after being accused of such a heinous crime.”

“I don’t know,” said Shaska, puffing on her cigar. “Snake girl, we’re still on course for the Panipuri Kingdom, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Zinnia, who had changed out of her showgirl outfit and was now wearing a navy blue floral patterned dress she had found in the clothing department.

“We still have a few days before we get there. We need to think of a plan on how to stop this civil war without also getting arrested and turned over to the Losanian feds, where we almost certainly face death,” Shaska said. “It’s one thing if it’s just me who has a bounty. But now I can’t even start a business with you guys.”

“Oh, that’s what matters right now,” Roxanne snarked internally, rolling her eyes.

“Prince, tell us more about your kingdom,” said Shaska.

“One moment,” he said, excusing himself from the table. He went to the bridge and found a map of the Panipuri Kingdom. The Humo Robinson had maps of every country where a Smoky Mart was located, and a location opened up in Panipuri’s capital of Shahar shortly before the Great War. Samudra laid the map out on the table after everyone had finished eating.

“The Panipuri Kingdom is on the southern edge of Orientalis. It’s a very warm country covered in dense forests with a mountain range in the north, where the capital, Shahar, is located,” the prince explained. “Most of the population is located in villages and small towns along the sacred Nadee River, which rises up to Lake Jheel in the mountains. Shahar is on this lake.”

“So we just land the Robinson in the capital, right?” Carne asked.

“It will not be that simple,” said Samudra. “The terrain around Shahar has not been landscaped in such a way that an airship of this size would be able to land properly; we only recently received the technology to fly.”

He thought for a moment, then continued with “we have two options for how we can get to Shahar: we can attempt to cut through the forests, which are crawling with incredibly dangerous wildlife. Or we can attempt to scale the Pahaad Mountains. Which are also crawling with incredibly dangerous wildlife.”

“Why can’t we just land at the base of the mountains and walk our way up to the lake?” Andy asked.

“The terrain is uneven and covered in trees. Unfortunately, the easiest option is to land at the port city of Nagar at the southern end of the country. But the trek from there to Shahar is over a week on foot, and I would like to get to Shahar as quickly as possible and explain to my brother the truth of what happened in Mazurka City. In addition, his coronation is soon, and my uncle’s forces are likely to lay siege to Shahar around the time we land. We must make haste.

“My uncle’s base of operations is in the city of Baagee, on the west bank of the Nadee about halfway between Nagar and Shahar,” Samudra continued.

“So, why don’t we just go to this Baagee place and put the smackdown on your uncle before he can do anything?” Shaska asked, flicking ash off her cigar. “He’s the one starting all this, right?”

“Indeed. His insurgents have been attacking villages along the Nadee for some time now, trying to lure my brother into an open civil war. But my brother is reluctant to spill the blood of his citizens. I want to avoid this war at all costs, except killing my uncle. He was like a second father to me.

“Lady Shaska, do you remember the prophecy I told you about?”

“Like it was yesterday,” Shaska said, seemingly forgetting it was yesterday.

“Do we really want to gamble on some old prophecy? Sounds like a good way to get killed for nothing,” Schwarz thought to himself

“I believe my uncle’s forces have a sinister backing behind them. Something changed in him before the Great War. He became… different. His mind turned away from his royal duties, and he turned away from the gods of Panipuri. He talked about the unfairness of the world and how we need to topple the powerful. He even talked about how our gods are fake.”

Shaska flashed back to her conversation with Gil Fernandez, the lucha promoter gangster.

“But then, not long ago, I met a man. A man who showed me the truth. The truth that there is no truth. No, all that matters in this world is power. And the power has rested in the hands of wealthy fat cats like you for far too long, be they kings or, these days, CEOs.”

“Hmm,” she mused.

“My uncle gave much of his wealth to the Unclean, the lowest of the low in Panipuri society,” Samudra continued.

“At the top of the society are, of course, nobles like myself, closely followed by the priests. After that are the warriors, then the merchants, then the farmers, followed by the artists, and at the very bottom are the Unclean, the people who perform the filthiest work, like cleaning streets and toilets.

“My uncle raised up an army of the lower classes of Panipuri society, with an aim of revolution.”

“I must say, a group of people called ‘the Unclean’ have every right to be angry,” said Lulupo. “It sounds completely degrading.”

“It is what it is,” said Shaska, blowing smoke. “It’s possible to work your way up from the bottom. That’s what I did. Started in the slums and became the richest woman in Piscomare Kingdom, and then the world.”

“The Unclean are forever seen as Unclean,” Samudra added. “There is no room for class mobility, no matter what they do.”

“I’m sorry, prince darling, why are we helping you again?” Lulupo interjected, putting his feet up on the table and leaning back in his chair.

“Bald guy! Don’t be rude to the prince!” Shaska chided.

“I’m serious, Miss Shaska. It seems the prince’s brother is fighting to maintain a system that keeps people basically as slaves. I thought you were opposed to slavery?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“I think we should rethink our objectives here,” said Lulupo, sitting up and clapping his hands. “Because it’s sounding more and more like the uncle has a point.”

“You know I’m the one paying you, right?” Shaska growled. “And I say we help the prince. Sure, a system with no class mobility is awful, but war and violent revolution aren’t the solution. Countless would die in the name of this pipe dream.”

“Are you following any of this?” Andy whispered to his wife, who shook her head.

“I hear your words, Sir Charles,” said the prince. “I will attempt to bridge the gap between my brother and my uncle for a peaceful resolution to our social strata, but you must understand that it is my uncle who became violent first, and the prophecy says that–”

“Prince. Darling,” Lulupo interrupted. “I don’t care about a prophecy. I care that there’s an entire section of your society forever called ‘Unclean’. It’s not right, darling.”

“Since when did you care about class struggle, bald guy? Last I checked, you were more interested in collecting paychecks than overthrowing governments,” Shaska bluntly asked.

Lulupo’s brow furrowed. “As a Cartagian-Losanian, my people were held as slaves for over a century before the Losanian civil war sixty years ago. I never personally experienced it, but my ancestors did. It’s… a sore subject with me.”

Samudra bowed his head and thought. “Changing my brother’s mind is one thing. It is a daunting task to change the hearts and minds of an entire country,” he said. “For now, I must please ask for your continued assistance in stopping my uncle from attacking more villages and eventually Shahar on the day of my brother’s coronation. We can discuss the finer points of Panipuri society then. I was born to protect my people, all of them, Unclean included. But this war will burn the entire kingdom to the ground before anything can change.”

“Fine. I’m with Shaska for the long haul anyway,” said Lulupo, thinking about the hefty sum he was paid back at Gokashi and how he was a wanted queen now.

“So, what do you propose we do, Lady Shaska?” Samudra asked. “Shall we go to Shahar to see my brother, or Baagee to see my uncle?”

“Hmm. I need to give it some more thought…” she replied plaintively.

Andy sunk in his chair, then looked at his wife before looking back at Shaska. “You’re talking about saving a kingdom, but we’re just a group of bounty hunters. Are we really the right people for this…?”

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In the city of Baagee on the Nadee river, cows roamed the street. Their droppings were cleaned up by the Unclean. Though singing and dancing were once common occurrences in the cities of Panipuri, no one had the energy to do either with the specter of war across the land, especially in the aftermath of the worldwide cataclysm of the Great War. Buildings of Baagee were mainly cut from stone, but some were made of wood as well. Many of the buildings were dome shaped, but many were still left ruined from the fighting of the Great War five years ago.

A longleg messenger entered a tavern, and descended a flight of stairs to find an elderly longleg dressed in beggar’s clothing, a long, white beard and a turban sitting at a desk surrounded by all sorts of paperwork and maps.

“Prince Barabar!” said the messenger. “I have news from the front at Gaanv! Our men have successfully–”

“I am no prince,” Barabar interrupted. “I am only your leader until the revolution is complete.”

“My apologies,” said the messenger. “I wanted to inform you that the warriors in Gaanv have been defeated.”

“Good… good…” Barabar replied. “Soon my nephew will have no choice but to acknowledge us and fight for real. Now, you may excuse yourself. I have an important phone call to make to my benefactor.”

“Sir!” the messenger exclaimed, holding his arm up with his hand parallel to the ceiling.

The messenger left, and Barabar calmly dialed the phone number on his specialized telephone that could reach worldwide. A deep, imposing voice on the other end answered in a thick Occidentalian accent.

“Yes, what is it?”

“King von Ragnar, it’s Barabar. Preparations will soon be in order for your visit. I want your return to the world stage to be special.”

“Very good, Barabar. The light of my joy and brilliance shines down upon you.”

“I wanna talk to him!” shouted a childlike, but still clearly adult, voice on von Ragnar’s end in a similarly thick accent.

“Rusila, you will be calm,” said Balthasar.

“Soon, the world will know its king,” said Barabar.

“This is but the first step toward our utopia, Barabar,” said von Ragnar. “Years of planning and secret preparations will soon be revealed to the world. The world leaders already know my name, and they will soon realize the current world order’s days are numbered. And once your reactionary nephew’s blood is spilled, so too will your spot in our Heaven on Caldris be secured.”

“BROTHER! I! Wanna! Talk to him!” Rusila whined.

“Ach, fine,” said the king, relinquishing the phone.

“Hello! This is Rusila! Do you like the color of blood, Mister Barabar?” Rusila giggled into the phone, her voice unnervingly light. “I like it when it’s fresh… all sticky and red.”

“Um… y-yes…” said Barabar, playing along.

“Rusila! Give me that!” von Ragnar chided, taking the receiver back. Rusila could be heard whining in the background.

“I hope that you will not fail me like that fool, Fernandez. He was my first attempt at setting up a foothold in the Provinces, but certainly not my last. Especially with my grassroots support with the youth. But now, in Panipuri, things will be different. Make your mark, Barabar,” von Ragnar said, hanging up.

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Several days passed. Shaska sat in the promenade of the Robinson smoking a cigar with a glass of wine as Schwarz strummed along on his guitar. Samudra joined Shaska on the deck.

“Lady Shaska, have you decided what you want to do?”

Shaska thought about it for a bit longer, taking Lulupo’s words into account–class struggle, the Unclean, revolutions. She hated slavers more than anything, but helping the prince keep his throne? It felt... too clean. Still, survival meant picking a side, and Samudra’s cause was at least one she could control.

“Let’s go see your brother,” she said. “I wanna have some words about this class system of yours. Maybe he can explain why the world needs to stay the way it is.”