A Survivor's Word IV

"DESTINY!" Remmy screamed over the Stormgate's exit as something gripped his collar. The famous Swashbuckler was still transfixed on Skull Island. He tried to yell again but a hand covered his mouth. Remmy tried to gasp but he inhaled a metal-y taste and decided not to try again. Destiny disappeared in the exit, and only then did Remmy look up. Deacon dipped his head.

"It's too late for you." Remmy heard Deacon snap and all became dark.

-

The first thing that Remmy thought when his mind snap back were that his toes were scraped. They had been bare and were dragging on a gritty patform. The next things registered were the pains in his elbows and his inability to see. He fell to his knees.

"Wesley Remington Lawson." Remmy hated it when people used his correct first name, much more his full middle name.

"Who are you?" Remmy intended to yell, but his command came out as a whimper. His meager question bounced off the walls of the airy room. The blindfold covering Remmy's eyes was released and he closed his eyes in reaction to the bright light.

"I am Commander Kane, and you shall not speak another word." Remmy struggled between two soldiers and grunted loudly.

"Let...me...go!" He yelled, the sound booming.

"You may be let go, Lawson." Remmy kneeled straighter. It couldn't be possible. "You were the last one to see Devereaux."

"I.." Remmy pinched his lips together and looked at the ground. "No." He whispered.

"Where did she go?"

"I.."

"WHERE!?" The entire hall was hushed. Remmy looked at the crowd – all clockworks. His eyes widened.

"Something for something, the eagles of Aquila say," Remmy whispered. "The frogfather told me that."

"Ah, yes. Something for something. A sword for a sword. A pirate for your freedom. How long have you known Devereaux?"

"I..twenty minutes.." Remmy sunk back down.

"Thank you." Remmy stood up and reached for his belt, for the gleaming pistol that he carried too hopefully. It wasn't there.

"My dear boy, you've taken in too much of the batacuda's breath." Batacuda's breath was only a line in a nursery rhyme. Remmy tried to clear it from his head. "Take him down." Before he could rethink anything, Remmy's toes scraped the ground, and he was yelling.

"Even if it's the last thing I do, Kane, I will have your head!" He balled a free hand into a fist. "A survivor's word!" A cold hand covered his mouth, and he yelled against it. Maybe Kane just had that effect on people.

"The clockworks were built invernurable," Ol' Fish Eye had said to Remmy once, "No defects, no weak spots, no off switches." Remmy was polishing his guns as Fish Eye babbled on. It hadn't occurred to Remmy that the lecture would be so important now. Was it even right?

Remmy let himself be dragged around – it was when he had kneeled before Kane that the pain in his soles set in. Where WAS Destiny, anyways? Had she returned safely to Skull Island? Did she go back for him? Was she..

Remmy tried not to count the possible fates for his savior.

The chambers for the caught were nearly empty – Remmy wondered if this was a good thing. Every so often, a rat brigand or occasional red clawed crab would gaze up at him, mangled and starved. Remmy wanted to reach out when he saw a female mouse clutch at the bars and cry. She was wearing simple garments in purple with white trim – same as Destiny.

"I know her." Remmy whispered. A marine holding him halted the other and stared down at Remmy, releasing its grip (with the other in turn). Remmy stood up and bounded off to calm the fencer, but instead he got the tip of a musket.

Boochbeard, in Remmy's only encounter with him, had mentioned that the Armada would use sparkshooters to stun others into submission. Boochbeard was right. Remmy felt the jolt course through him, and the fencer gasped, holding back tears. He fell to his knees, and got lifted off of the ground. The marines didn't even grunt. Remmy, through the pain of the shock, looked back at the fencer, who seemed to reach out as he lost consciousness.

-

There was a single torch outside of Remmy's cell. It flickered endlessly, some ends gleaming white while others burned orange and red. He couln't help but stare into it, without food or water. He could still hear the fencer's sobs from down the corridor, and the occasional command for her to be quiet. Remmy found a bar on the cieling of his cell and made use of his hours pulling his chin over the bar, and flipping over. He guessed that somewhere, a pair of eyes were watching him, amused at how well a musketeer could execute a single-bar routine.

Remmy decided that several hours had passed. He looked at his bar as if expecting it to be the sun. Even if it was, it didn't stop Remmy's stomach from growling up a storm. He sat hugging his knees as the air raised goosebumps on his forearms, and he closed his eyes.

-

The state in which Remmy woke up in did not help him find out how long he had been sleeping. His body still ached from being dragged and getting captured. Remmy wanted to think. He wanted to think about something important for so long that he could come to a conclusion about it. He wanted his guns. A single tear escaped the edge of Remmy's left eye, and he thirstily lapped it up, the salt stinging his tongue but stimulating his senses. He could now tell why the fencer cried. Speaking of, Remmy noticed that she had stopped. In fact, it was a clatter that had woke him up, almost making him scream. Could it have been...

Remmy didn't have time to think. An Armada Officer wearing a very long coat loomed over Remmy. It looked to the sides haphazardly, the light from the torch giving off evident scratches on its mask. Slowly, without a word, it opened Remmy's cell and took off its mask. A smiling face underneath beamed, whiskers and all. The coattails twitched awkwardly, and the metal hand's fingers had been modified to let out partially gloved paw-tips.

"I was her first mate – sneakiness runs in the blood, you know. Now come on!" Remmy's eyes widened and he followed the fencer with a slight stumble. "And it's Sarah, by the way. You make a racket in your sleep."

-

Destiny drained her gold supply, and Dockmaster Dan laughed in glee at what a bargain he had sold a raft for. He hadn't known how desperate a pirate like Devereaux could be without a ship, though Destiny was just too shy to ask Delaney to use her skiff. Nonetheless, Destiny trotted off with a bottle towards the docks and almost hand-paddled her way out into the windlane.

"Rings. Jewelry, pendants, brooches." Destiny chanted to herself, sneaking up behind a cutthroat ship. She inched up the side and swung her legs over the rail. Making as little sound as she could muster, Destiny drew a dagger and, after a grin, jabbed the tip into a shark's tail. It turned wildly, and Destiny leaped in the air, methodically swiping at the shark's body as she made her way down. She repeated the process for every blue-skinned cutthroat.

"Okay, explain all of the – oh, hello, puppy!" Destiny's left eye twitched.

Not him again! Destiny yelled in her mind as Marcus drew two daggers.

"Let's play some catch, shall we?" Destiny ducked in anticipation for flying knives, she could almost feel them shooting through the air and past her sides as she flipped over. Destiny circled around and tried to knock Marcus over again by ramming him.

Destiny felt the edge of a dagger just barely nick her shoulder, gliding past her and over the side of the ship.

"Hello, Marcus." Destiny tried to keep her cool. "How's Fin been?"

"That blind fish? Nothing. What have you been up to, puppy? Heard you cashed in." Destiny drew her sword and pushed off of the railing towards Marcus, who deflected her weight with only the flick of an arm. Destiny somersaulted back onto the deck, pouncing up again, hoping to cannonball through the air and knock Marcus over. He caught the spinning pirate like a basketball and threw her to the side.

"Karo will like seeing you in chains and blubbering, Devereaux. How does that sound?" Destiny clutched at her chest from the bad landing and painstakingly hopped to her feet, drawing another sword. She closed her eyes.