Grand Voyage- Log 11

Log 11: Harbinger Island Part 4
“You think that guy’s coming back?” Knave asked, rubbing a towel on his head, to get the last drops of water out of it.

“No idea,” D’Artagnan replied, now shirtless, as he held out the robes that usually covered his upper body over the side of the Star, wringing them to let the water out, “but we’d better get ready to set sail again soon. That storm sidetracked us a lot.”

“Nothing doing,” Knave said simply, as he dropped the towel and joined Art by the railing, wringing out his scarf.

“What do you mean?” Art asked, a small anger vein forming on his forehead. He was getting too many of those these days...

“Look at this place!” Knave said happily, gesturing with one hand, encompassing the entire island, “it just SCREAMS adventure!”

“It’s just rocks.”

“ADVENTUROUS rocks!”

The Majin sighed, knowing that there was no way he was going to win this argument. “Okay then,” he conceded, “what do you propose we do?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Knave asked, a bit disdainfully, “we explore of course!”

The area around Morris’s body had been surrounded by yellow tape, as the various doctors in the base swarmed around him, working quickly and efficiently, searching for fingerprints, debris, and any evidence that would point to who the killer was.

One of the doctors approached Captain Falstaff, who was standing slightly outside the yellow tape. The Captain raised his head, leveling a stare at the doctor. “Well?” he asked.

“It’s impossible to tell,” the doctor answered, “all we can tell is that whoever broke all those bones did it by hand, but they didn’t leave fingerprints.”

“So they were wearing gloves?”

“Yessir.”

“What about the shot to the head?”

“It was standard Marine fare, sir. The perp also either kept the pistol or tossed it into the sea, since we didn’t find anything like it in the area.”

“Damn,” the Captain murmured, stroking his beard with his left hand, “so there’s no telling who the culprit is?”

“Yessir,” the doctor replied, “all we know is that it was a Marine, or someone using Marine gear.”

“Could they have left the island already?”

“I doubt it. Your son reported a decently-sized ship arriving several minutes after when Morris was supposedly killed, but no ships have arrived or left since then.”

“Another ship?” the Captain asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Send a few men to check it out. You and your squad can go help with the preparations for the storm. Where’s Sid?”

“He said he was going for a bath.”

“A bath-.... I see. He’ll get punished enough for that. Is Mesh still locked up?”

“Yessir, in Cell A.”

“Good,” the Captain finished, and began walking towards his office, “go help the others, Doctor.”

“Yessir.”

“Oh, look,” Art groaned, his eyes drifting aimlessly across the horizon, “MORE rocks.”

“ADVENTUROUS rocks,” Knave countered, “remember that.”

The two pirates had finished drying off their clothes and had gone on the promised exploration of the island. Unfortunately, as the Marines who had first settled here had discovered all those years ago, there wasn’t much to see, something D’Artagnan enjoyed pointing out every few minutes or so. Knave, however, seemed fascinated by every single inch of space he saw, skipping along the area, head bent low, only pausing to remind Art of the ‘importance’ of their expedition.

“I confess I don’t really see the point,” Art said, “there’s only so much we can see before we get too close to the Marine base anyway.”

“That’s a good point!” Knave said, perking up, and glancing around as well, “then we’ll just....”

“Just what?”

“Explore the Marine base!” Knave cried joyously, as he took off running towards the Marine base.

“WHAT?!” Art gasped, then grasped futilely for Knave’s flying scarf, before the dust cloud from his captain’s departure smothered him. Coughing and waving it away, Art placed a hand above his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he watched Knave speed towards the Marine base. “Oh dear,” he murmured, a sweatdrop forming on the back of his head.

On the roof of the Marine base, where Captain Cheney usually stood, was Coco, sitting and leaning against the flag, his feet finding footholds in the imprints left by the Captain. On the other side of the flag, and in the same position, sat the Marine with the prosthetic arm.

“Mesh failed,” the Marine said.

“Of course he did,” Coco replied, “that dumb hunk of muscle was just there to either get Sid out of the way or provide enough time for Noir to take care of Morris.”

“Why did you kill Morris?” the Marine asked.

“Because, Vital,” Coco answered, “we’re slowly cutting the Captain off. He may act normal, but the death of his assistant has shaken him somewhat. Our next round of removals will continue to sever his connection to- Oh, what do we have here?”

Coco had spotted a green flash moving rapidly towards the base, another figure running frantically after him. “Looks like we have visitors,” he said, his mouth twisting into a disturbing grin.

Gunther was very bored that day. Actually, he was bored EVERY day. The tedious, useless job of guarding the gate of the Marine base was a thankless one, and besides, it cut him off from the other Marines in the base, at least socially. And on a rock like this, it was stupid to think that anyone would co-

A blinding green flash zoomed up to the gate, then halted. It quickly assumed the shape of a young, green-haired man, grinning hugely at the gatekeeper. “Yo!” he said, waving frantically, even though Gunther was right in front of him, “I wanna look around this place!”

“Look around?” Gunther asked, the gears in his head turning slowly, “you mean you want to take a tour?”

“Sure, I guess,” the marimo boy said offhandedly, “as long as I get to see everything!”

“A-Allright then,” Gunther replied, reaching for the small Den Den Mushi to his right. Picking it up, he spoke into it. “Gunther here. We’ve got a kid here asking for a tour, and-”

At that moment, a blonde-haired young man, about the same age as the marimo, skidded up to the gate, at the same time delivering a hefty blow to his comrade’s head. “Whatever he’s doing, I”m with him too!” the blonde said quickly.

“-Correction. We have TWO kids wanting a tour. Permission to give it to them?”

“Sure,” came the voice of the Marine with the prosthetic hand, “let them in. Show ‘em everything.”

“Got it,” Gunther said, hanging up. He then snatched up a pair of keys and went to work unlocking the door, “now you two stay with me at all times, okay?” He finally opened the door, then turned to the two behind him for confirmation, “I said, oka-?”

Before he could do anything, the green-haired boy shot past him, quickly disappearing into the confines of the base. “Ah, crap,” the blonde haired one said, then quickly darted him, leaving a stunned Gunther in their wake....

~End of Log~

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