#I went into the marshlands by the stable just long enough to find one (1) wakey boy (activated guardian) and then ran the fuck away

[ghostsinthecellar]

today's botw session involved re-murdering a talus (partly to get revenge for his cousin who killed me yesterday, partly because I'm gem-greedy), scrambing all over the dueling peaks, completing four shrines, climbing multiple waterfalls, snagging treasure from under the noses of treasure hunters, getting my shit rocked by a surprise stalnox, registering a horse (Laramie my spotted friend, I will never ride you), giving a beetle to my beloved boyfriend Beedle, and saving Hestu's precious maracas!

[awfully-sadistic]

Week 1: Oct 3rd

The Adventures of Dottie and Dodger A series of linear prompt one-shots.

By now, I know this has gotten too ambitious. But I’m stubborn and I want to see my dreams realized.

“Are you guys almost done?” Dot called out over her shoulder in the middle of shutting her suitcase. It was the ungodly hour of seven in the morning and due to Stephen Strange, and Stephen Strange only, she found herself up at the ass crack of dawn so they could hit the road. Whitecrest wasn’t far from Ashbourne as she had told Doctor Strange yesterday; it was a three-hour drive to Whitecrest if traffic was good and a two hour drive back.

She took another look around the space to see if she was missing anything. The office space was looking more and more like home. Dot figured that was a good thing considering she might be spending more time at work than home, it should feel comfortable enough to be a second one.

After Stephen’s visit yesterday, Dot went through the office space and all of its furniture to see if they could find a nice armchair for him in case he visited again. She didn’t know why but a good armchair just seemed to suit him. She managed to find one that passed her inspection and set up a nice little seating area near a wide window with a nice view out towards the city. She had Dodger push over a couch, a coffee table, and threw a nice rug on the ground to finish off the area. She hated open spaces so the office was beginning to reflect that.

Past the receptionist area was the main assembly of cubicles and desks. They still didn’t need that many but it didn’t make the room look empty so it stayed. The breakroom consisted of a room with a functional kitchen that hooked the corner as soon as you entered the main office space, which Dot has been fond of calling The Pen just like in a police station. She had no idea what else to call it and she wasn’t going to refer to it as “the big space with all the desks” so The Pen it stayed. Surrounding The Pen were varying office rooms. If The Pen was a square, the office rooms starting from the breakroom corralled it in. There was a hallway in the back that led into a storage room and a men’s and women’s bathroom.

Tucked in the corner behind the Receptionist area was the spot with the seating area she hoped to one day serve tea or coffee like a fancy person to Doctor Strange.

Or any other guest, she supposed. She knew fuck all of what to do with the other rooms but it’d come to her and Dodger when the time came. There was still a huge ass room across from where she stored her clothes she didn’t know what to do with, either. Maybe she could convert a couple of rooms into sleeping spaces if they were going to pull all-nighters but the thought of having to drag beds into the office just worn her out.

It was a good thing Dodger could carry shit the size of an elephant.

“We’re finished!” Armand called from beyond The Pen. He came out of Dot’s closet space wearing what looked like one of her outfits. He even had a little suitcase in his hand. Dot did a double take before laughing.

Armand was wearing what looked like one of her sundresses with a matching sunhat. She hasn’t worn that outfit in ages and it was only for an afternoon Derby she and Dodger had been undercover for as the jockeys claimed their stables were being haunted. The case required the both of them to infiltrate an exclusive club and they had to look the part. Dot didn’t own anything stuffy nor appropriate enough to match the Derby’s dress code so she went out and bought a floral-printed, faded yellow sundress and a big, floppy bowknot sunhat with sandals. It was partly a joke, when was Dot ever going to wear something like this out and about normally?

Apparently Armand didn’t have to wonder the circumstances. He stopped in front of Dot and when he beamed, it seemed to radiate like sunshine. He seemed proud as he declared, “Look, I dressed up as you.”

His waif-like appearance and androgynous features made it uncertain whether Armand had masculine features whatsoever as Dot studied him. It was harder to tell since he wore his hair long and it looked as soft as silk and flowed just as easily. His limbs were long and delicate looking but his hands were masculine. But his broad shoulders and narrow hips also hinted that he wasn’t entirely feminine after all. The sundress was a little short on him and that was expected since he was taller than Dot. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“You really did,” Dot smiled as her giggles died down. “you look great, honey. Do you like the dress?”

“It’s really nice. And when I twirl, it tickles my legs.” he said, doing just that. Dot had to laugh again then gestured at the suitcase. She had an idea but she wanted to ask anyway since Armand didn’t really have a wardrobe to call his own.

“What’s in there?”

“I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed another outfit.”

Dot could feel her smile widening. She was possessive as hell especially over her clothes but she found that she didn’t mind one bit that Armand wanted to wear any of her stuff. In fact, she felt proud and a sensation that was like watching a child trying on their mommy’s clothes.

“That’s absolutely okay. If you want to borrow anything else, feel free. I’ll bring more stuff from my closet so you always have new stuff to rotate.”

Armand’s smile brightened just as Dot’s, the two already knowing they were going to make a thing out of sharing Dot’s wardrobe.

“Why are you two looking at each other like that?” Dodger asked, interrupting their moment. He had finally finished packing. Since his wardrobe was at home, he was tasked with packing the equipment they might need to help them with their case.

“Just wondering when you were going to get your slowpoke butt in gear,” Dot teased. “Are you ready?”

Dodger nodded lifting up the two items he had in his hand; they were hard-case briefcases specially made to carry their equipment so it wouldn’t get damaged when they traveled. Dot nodded in approval as soon as she noted them and gestured with her head, grabbing her own suitcase.

“Let’s head out, loves.”

Armand gently took Dot’s suitcase from her hand as she turned to lock the office doors as soon as they were outside. When she turned to take it back, she saw that Armand was already helping Dodger put everything in the trunk of their “company” car; a Hummer H3 the color of royal purple with black accents Dot affectionately calls Leviathan. She smiled at the scene before tacking up their “OUT OF THE OFFICE” sign on the door just in case they get another prospective client. It was a simple form telling anyone that they’d be back later in the evening and if they wanted, they could leave their name and number and someone would get to them as soon as they returned.

The trip to Whitecrest was as expected; traffic was condensed in the city as people were on their way to work. The further out they got, it became sparse and Dot was allowed to drive as far as her foot can go down on the gas. Dodger eased her back to a reasonable speed before she would slowly start to overtake cars again and eventually he gave up.

Armand paid special attention to the scenery and Dot had to wonder if it was the first time he was seeing any of this stuff. He seemed entranced by everything he was witnessing unable to tear his gaze away from the window. He asked questions about nearly everything and Dot was glad Dodger had someone to impress with his wealth of knowledge because she sure as fuck didn’t know half the time. Dodger spouted off information about the trees they were seeing as the concrete of a bigger city with its skyscrapers bled into trees just as tall. It was wilderness now and despite it crawling towards ten in the morning, the trees casted shade that made it seem like late in the afternoon. Once Armand’s questions died down, the silence was replaced with Dot’s music; her iPod the DJ of choice whenever they made long trips.

When they finally arrived to Whitecrest, they knew it instantly.

“Why the fuck is there water everywhere?” Dot asked, glad that her H3 was an off-road vehicle. She knew Whitecrest was categorized as “different” since the Great War but she didn’t expect there to be this much of a difference from a three-hour trip out of town. The entire area was a marshland and she had no idea. Trees were now overhead and plenty casting the region in a perpetual state of gloom. Dot had to turn her headlights on in order to see in front of her. Apparently Whitecrest was a valley made up of rivers and ponds bordered by three sides of mountain. Dot had hoped that the road she was on was taking them to the town. It didn’t seem like the town even had the sense to pave it; she was driving on a dirt path now and it seemed like the only path she could take, the H3 rolling and bumping along as it ate up old waterlogged trunks that had fallen in the road.

Dodger had taken out his laptop and flipped it open. From the corner of her eye, she could see that he had changed his wallpaper to Dot and Armand standing in front of their new office building, posing as if it were a grand opening. So that was why he wanted to take a picture. Dot smiled before asking, “What are you doing, Dodge?”

“Looking up information about Whitecrest. In all the excitement from the Doctor’s visit, I forget to do it.”

Dot perked an eyebrow. Dodger never forgot to do anything related to accumulating new facts. Doctor Strange must have made a very good impression on him. She remained quiet and focused on steering the Hummer through the marshland while listening to Dodger’s fingers fly across the keys like its own musical orchestra. It had always impressed her that Dodger had designed their database filled to the brim with sprawling information from everything to articles to mundane tidbits from around the world and he was always filling it with something new he learned; information was literally quite at their fingertips aligned with as much as Dodger knew. Dot wagered it must be a lot. She had only skimmed the database herself able to find what she was looking for with just a simple phrase input through the search engine. Much like an iceberg, she knew there was more below the surface but she wasn’t that ambitious enough to make full use of the database. Not when Dodger did it himself.

Besides, it seemed complicated. Maybe sophisticated was a better word. She was afraid of touching something wrong and breaking the entire system. Dodger had reassured her many times that she could never break it, but for the most part, she entrusted him to do the fact checking. It made sense to her considering before they were partnered, he was doing the paperwork for the Agency.

It occurred to her that he must have learned a lot about their data system in order to create his own for their company. Yeah, sophisticated seemed the right word. Dodger’s system was a lot more sophisticated than the Agency’s. She wondered when they were going to realize the loss they took when Dodger went with her. Not that he’d want to go back.

Or like she’d give him back.

“The database states that Whitecrest was once a harbor city but has been flooded since the Great War.”

“D.I.D. has information about Whitecrest? When did you do this?”

“D.I.D.?”

“Uh, Dodger’s Information Database,” Dot laughed.

“I like it,” Dodger said before continuing, “Anyway, D.I.D. does have information on Whitecrest. I upgraded the system with a feature that implements the accumulation of articles around the internet by typing in a keyword. Pooled with the knowledge I had input from everything I have known and remembered as I’ve read it, it pulls every known article or piece of information based on the two worlds to structure the best article of information we might need to know if we’re going to be working on a case in an unknown area.”

Dot remained quiet for a moment, head turning over what she just took in. “So, it’s like Googling something.”

“Yes. But instead of pages of sites you have to wade through to get to the information you want, the algorithm I’ve developed pulls pertinent information from sites all over into a comprehensible guidebook. It’s sort of like a Wikipedia page but without the banner that’s asking you to donate every three months.”

“Is it reliable?”

“Naturally.” Dodger boasted. “The AI I’ve developed factchecks over everything, it’s 99% accurate. It’s what decides is pertinent to share and what’s useless information.”

“…You’ve developed an AI?”

“It’s not that hard. Especially after reverse engineering the Glass—”

“I’m not going to get into that right now. I don’t know this, I never will. I don’t even want to be a witness,” Dot shot before asking, “So it’s like a wiki page without room for human error is how I’m understanding this. That’s aside from the fact that’s where our records go from the cases we take from this point forward, right?”

Dodger made an affirmative hum, adding, “The beauty of it is that we add personal experiences to the areas we’ve been. Especially if we need to bring back a record of it as pristine as we’ve lived it. That’s why our reports of events are going to be important and it gets bolstered with the video we always take on our jobs. We won’t ever recall anything wrong though, with our memory combined, it’s already nearly impossible. It’s to reassure our clients, more or less.”

“The Agency’s never had anything like this.” Dot said with a sense of amazement.

“They never will.”

There was a moment of appreciative silence as both mull over the conversation. Dot’s head was still reeling with the improved search function, it was about the only thing she used on D.I.D.. She couldn’t believe Dodger felt the need to upgrade it, now she was going to feel like she was going to break that, too.

The silence was broken when Armand spoke up. “I’ll admit. I have no idea what you two are talking about.”

Dot laughed. “Sorry, hon. It’s alright. Just computer stuff. Dodger’s still teaching you how to use one, right? Especially since you’re going to be our receptionist?”

“Ah!” Armand sounded cheerful, “yes, he’s been teaching me. The both of them! The man in the computer is really helpful.”

Dodger turned to explain as Dot gave him a puzzled look, “My attendant director is going to be his assistant so he’ll have an easier time. You know, the AI I was telling you about.”

“Your fucking—” Dot still couldn’t wrap her head around it. “Attendant director?”

“He helps me with stuff.” Dodger said. “Think of him as the head butler of D.I.D.”

Dot laughed before she got excited, “Oh! Oh! DAD. Call him D.A.D. Dodger’s Attendant Director.”

“You’re pretty good at that,” Dodger chuckled in appreciation. “right on the nose with acronyms. D.A.D. it is.”

“Well, if I couldn’t hack it as an agent at the Agency or a Private Investigator, I would have had a lucrative job as a writer. It was my dream, you know.” Dot divulged. She missed the surprised look Dodger gave her before he turned to his laptop to write something down.

After he was done, he picked up on the line he had been reading before. “As I was saying about Whitecrest, the former successful harbor town was just one of the many causalities of the Great War. A Glassing attempt was made on the city which contributes to its change today.”

“What’s Glassing?” Armand asked from the backseat.

“Glassing is a term attributed to the terrain change caused by the Dovirs. It wasn’t enough that the Alien fleet was trying to annihilate us or use us in their war, but they were trying to alter the terrain by bombarding it with their alien weaponry. It’s unclear what they used or what procedures consists of Glassing as it took place primarily in orbit. As you can imagine, Human and Supernatural settlements alike had no way of defending against such a devastating attack.”

“That’s so terrible. So many people must have died…” Armand sounded sad and Dot had a hard time trying to focus on the road. She wanted to tell Dodger to switch to something lighter but she needed to know this too.

“It’s alright, love. As you can see, Whitecrest is still here.” She held off on adding the sarcastic remark about as much as it could be, half-sunken in the sea. She couldn’t help but point out something tragic as the realization came to her. “Glassing happened all over, right? I never knew Whitecrest was one of the places that had been targeted. We were so close. It could have been Ashbourne.”

“Rest assured, this took place hundred and hundreds of years ago,” Dodger said, looking at Armand and then at Dot. “Whitecrest came out of it as many other settlements that were dire victims of Glassing.”

Dot noticed he didn’t mention the ones who didn’t. But then again, he didn’t need to as the air hung heavy with the unsaid. Dot cleared her throat and asked Dodger to continue with the history of Whitecrest. He did.

“Since then, the harbor has experienced strange phenomena with the ocean.” Dodger paused as he added his own input. “Which isn’t unusual now. Since the introduction of Glassing to our planet, it’s changed the shift of the oceans. Nowadays, we experience quite the odd assortment of weather on seas. Weather patterns are more extreme and just a few years ago, the Agency were able to prove the existence of Sea Monsters. Apparently, they were woken up by the Great War and haven’t went back to bed since.”

“Apparently the Dovirs have never heard of the expression of letting sleeping dogs lie,” Dot said dryly.

“I thought they were Sea Monsters.” Armand said, sounding confused.

Dot laughed, “It’s a saying, sweetheart. It means to leave things as they are.”

Armand then asked, “Why did it take the Agency so long to verify the existence of Sea Monsters?”

“Good question,” Dot smiled. “I’ll answer this one, Dodge. You see, Armand, Jr. The sea is a huge and vast place. Our planet is mostly made up of water. Long ago, I think the verified percentage was 71%. Now, it’s 77%. It rose a little but that little is a lot. It’s unclear what exactly changed but a lot suspect Glassing and that tear that connects us with 616 did a lot to shift our world. With our planet being mostly water, that gives these Sea Monsters a lot of room to hide. Not just to hide but live; the ocean is incredibly deep. It’s like a whole other world under there. I guess, one day, like the rest of the Supernaturals, the Sea Monsters decided they didn’t just want to hunt in their own territory but make the entire sea theirs, too. Last I remember, the Agency wasn’t even sure how many species of Sea Monster there were and how big they can get. One day, I think that’s going to bite us in the ass.”

“That’s… so terrifying.” Armand said, eyes round and complexion looking a lot pale than normal. Dot thought it was adorable; not scaring him but that fact that Armand gets scared even though he could phase through bodily harm. She nodded in agreement.

“It’s a fascinating subject.” Dot admitted. “The ocean is so amazing.”

It was around this time Dodger figured there wasn’t any more information they’d need about the town since they were so close to it anyway. They could see the top of a building with a roof that looked built with clay shingles. There was a slight tower that pushed past the cacophony of trees but didn’t look like it’d stay that way for long. Give or take a few more years and that too would be covered one day. Dot pulled the H3 on a patch of dry land; she wasn’t about to step out into the mud.

From what she could see, the town wasn’t very large at all. It seemed to be all condensed in a town square, flooded to the ankle with water that was coming in from the sea. She made a face as she opened her door. “I hope to god we’re not stuck wading around in water all day…”

“It looks that way,” Dodger answered, opening his.

The area they parked was a safe haven of dry spots. Out in the open, they could see that there were few safe havens but trees mostly took up the space. Old houses and establishments were flooded as far as the eye can see but that didn’t seem to bother anybody in town. It was still morning so they didn’t see a lot of people out and about, but who they could see were either inside or sitting in rowboats that littered the square.

“Are people living in some of those rowboats?” Dot whispered, not wanting to make a bad impression. She learned quickly that you can say what you want to say out loud but if you start insulting anyone, it gets hard to get information out of them. For the most part, she made snide comments to Dodger and that seemed to satisfy her enough without compromising anything.

“It seems so.” Dodger said with a stoic mask slipped into place. Dot was amazed how he could look like he passed no judgement on anyone. But she could feel the cautious energy on him. He turned to Armand, mentioning, “You might want to change your shoes, lass.”

Armand took a sweeping look around after coming around from Dot’s side. His face fell. “Oh yeah. I don’t want to walk on that.” then he asked, “What if I hover?”

“That’d be suspicious.” Dodger answered. “We don’t want to spook anyone immediately.”

“Sorry, love. I’d feel better if you wore something to cover your feet, too.” Dot knew it was silly to fret about a ghost feeling cold or getting its feet wet but Armand didn’t fall in the umbrella of indifference now. She felt responsible for him and wanted to make sure he was taken care of.

The trio went to the back of the truck and started to unload. Dodger gathered the equipment with the spare suitcases they were going to check into the inn. He carried it like it was nothing. That was okay with Dot because it gave her the time to suit Armand with some boots; she kept a spare on hand in the back, somewhere, and while Armand was seated on the trunk bed, she changed his shoes for him.

“Did you want to keep your dress on?” she asked, wondering if it was a good call. There was no telling what this case might entail. Armand seemed to have the same thought.

“I should change, huh?”

“That’s fine. You can just wear a pair of leggings underneath,” Dot smiled. “I have those in spare, too.”

That seemed to light Armand up and it was decided. He had to take his boots off again but once he slipped into a pair of Dot’s leggings, boots on, the look was complete. Sort of. Given all the shade, the place was especially chilly in the October air. She knew Armand could not feel the cold, corporeal or not, yet she still didn’t like that he looked cold. She tied a scarf around his neck and placed one of her light jackets over his shoulder. It was a little tight around the shoulders and sleeves, but otherwise, fit him well enough. He didn’t complain about it, either. In fact, he looked downright thrilled to be wearing more of Dot’s clothes.

“There, now you’re good.”

Armand surprised her by doing the same. “So you don’t get cold, unlike me.” he grabbed another light jacket and placed it around Dot’s shoulders, too, making sure to zip it up the front. Sometimes with him being so naïve, he caught her by surprise by being aware of things like this, too.

She smiled, a touch shy, and nodded. “Good, we’re both ready.”

“And Dodger?” Armand asked, turning to see for himself.

“I’m always dressed for cold weather,” he mentioned. True enough, he was already in a coat and actually wore some gloves. But Dot wasn’t surprised.

“He gets cold easily,” she explained.

Whitecrest looked incredibly soaked. Deeper within the town square, the ground could not be seen unless it were raised. Dirty sea water was kicked up by Dot, Dodger’s, and Armand’s trekking footsteps, the trio careful not to trip over anything unseen. Once or twice, Dot could make out small fishies swimming by and she couldn’t pick between an expression of surprise or disgust. Why did they insist on staying like this? It looked like they were keeping most of the water at bay by sandbags but wouldn’t it be easier to pack up and leave?

“I guess there’s a reason why no one mentions that Whitecrest is half sinking into the ocean,” Dot muttered, lifting her right knee and shaking her foot out. “I hate the feel of my socks getting wet. I swear, if I step on a frog out here, we’re leaving.”

“What are you going to tell Doctor Strange?” Dodger asked while lifting his own knees with every step he took. He had the sneaking suspicion that they were sinking along with the town.

Dot didn’t answer mainly because she couldn’t entertain the thought of letting down Stephen whatsoever. Instead, she muttered, “Shush.” And continued to lead the way towards the biggest building she thought was important. She had hoped it was the inn so they can drop their stuff off in what was hopefully a second story room.

Somebody coughed turning Dot’s attention to the right. There was a grizzled looking man about in his forties slumped against a wall of sandbags. He puttered in place for a while, his actions looking sluggish and uncoordinated. Clearly the man has had one too many but Dot couldn’t blame him if he lived around here.

“I’m going to ask him for directions,” Dot said, nodding her head towards the old man.

Dodger made a noise of protest. “He could be the town drunk for all we know.”

“That’s better than nothing which is all I’m seeing.” Dot indicated around. There wasn’t anybody else to ask. Dodger didn’t protest any further but he did take Dot’s back and stuck close. Armand seemed to have the same idea, flanking Dot’s other side. Dodger might have his hands full if the town drunk seemed violent.

“Sir?” Dot asked, leaning forward and tilting her head towards the man’s movements. As soon as he realized Dot was in front of him, he gave a start, muttering a muffled cry of an old man clutching his chest.

“Gave me a fright,” he replied with a tone like an old grandpa. Part of his speech was muffled by the striped yellow and brown scarf he had wrapped around his neck that partly covered his mouth. His wool coat was tattered and Dot wasn’t sure if his gloves were meant to be fingerless. “Are ya new here in town?” he asked, sizing the trio up.

“Yeah, we’re doing a favor for someone. But we want to check in at the inn first. Can you tell us where that is?”

The man extended a hand which pointed across the street. It was a two-story building with a blue shingled roof and an entrance way that didn’t even bother with a doorway. Dodger made a noise at the back of his throat that indicated he wasn’t happy with the look but he didn’t say anything else. Dot didn’t blame him.

“Thanks,” she smiled. She was about to usher the group towards the inn but had a thought, turning back around. “And do you know where we can find somebody named Fitzsimmons?”

“The name’s First-Mate Fitzsimmons.” He drawled.

“Excuse me?” Dot asked, leaning in as if she mistaken.

“First-Mate Fitzsimmons and ya found ‘im.” He said with a hiccup. Dot drew back at once as soon as the gnarly scent wafted in her nose. She resisted the heavy urge to curse and shame this guy before she felt Armand draw her back, guiding her by the shoulders to his side.

“Can I ask what ya want wi’ me?” he asked, having no indication with how close he brushed with death. Dot swallowed her disgust and launched into work mode.

“Like I said, we’re doing a favor for someone. As far as we were told, we were supposed to seek out this Fitzsimmons. And then I guess from there, we help…” Dot knew she fell flat at the end there. She didn’t know what else to say and she didn’t want to waste words with a man who was probably too drunk to comprehend what she was saying.

The man suddenly wailed and it looked like he was about to go off in a fit. “That’s me! I’m tellin’ ya that’s me!”

“That wasn’t the issue here,” Dot said through nearly clenched teeth. She took in a deep breath, safely away from the drunkard. “Can you tell us why we were directed to you? Were you the one who made the request to Doctor Stephen Strange? If you’re confused about why we’re here instead, I can reassure you we were entrusted this task by him personally.”

The man settled down, slumping against the sandbag wall and Dot thought he might have passed out on his feet. His head was ducked and his eyes were close and Dot wasn’t tempted to really check.

“I hope Doctor Strange didn’t get a bogus request.” Dodger murmured.

Armand was still adamant on keeping Dot at his side. But he was intently watching with curious eyes. Dot could bet this was a strange scene. But there was no one else on the street and this old bum seemed to be the client of their client. Poor Stephen. Well, poor them, now. She was about to nod off at the group to recollect at the inn when the old man started talking again. At first, she thought she was mistaken because the sound came as a low rumble that caught her attention just as she was about to suggest leaving. When she faced Fitzsimmons again, his head was still bowed but he was definitely speaking now.

“I was once First-Mate on the Ocean Spray. One of the most magnificent ships ya’d ever lay eyes on, proud of our vessel we were. We were part of the trading fleet of Whitecrest’s boomin’ business. The Doomed Fleet. Didn’t think we’d hit out last voyage, sunk out at sea while on duty. I was the sole survivor.” He moaned, lifting his head. His eyes were watery and Dot could tell there was real emotion behind them without having to read him. The sensation of sadness hit her like waves next and she wondered if the Ocean Spray was met with similar ones. She could feel a lump settle in her throat and she cleared it, trying to get a line on her own emotions. Grounding herself was a good way not to get swept up in the emotions of others but sometimes, people’s emotions got strong. Thankfully, because Fitzsimmons was drunk, his memory had to be cloudy enough to prevent him from recalling the memories in vividness.

Still, it was hard to tell what Fitzsimmons wanted and why Stephen Strange had been called out to this small, flooded town for something that didn’t seem important. She couldn’t guess he was called in to deal with drunks now.

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss but I’m not clear what you want.” Dot gingerly put before the moaning interrupted her.

“I canna go on! Not without me drink!”

Dot looked stumped before she realized he was withholding his story in order to get another fix. “The hell?” she asked, not bothering to keep up her polite demeanor; especially if anyone thought she could be used. “What does that have to do with your favor? You called us for help, right?”

Apparently beggars can be choosers as Fitzsimmons seemed to ignore what Dot said, moaning pitifully, “Bring me my mead, lass. It’s in the cellar of the tavern o’er yonder.” He pointed towards the building next to the inn. They followed his gesture discovering that much like the inn, the tavern also lacked a front door and was also flooded before turning their attention to Fitzsimmons again. “It was taken from me, I canna go there an’ retrieve it.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Dodger said dryly.

“It’ll probably calm him down.” Dot sighed. She was weighing the options over in her head and it didn’t seem like they’d get very far if they didn’t fulfill this stupid request. “I don’t see him telling us anything else unless we get him something to drink. Since we’re going to the inn anyway, we might as well stop by the tavern.”

Dodger didn’t argue with that. The trio moved away from Fitzsimmons who was trying to find a good spot to settle against the sandbags. There was no doubt he’d wait there for his drink.

The inn, lacking a door, looked much like the outside in terms of the flooding. Except, brightly lit, you could see the wooden flooring. Right upon entering, there was a long desk and a sleepy looking female clerk reading a newspaper as she sat in a chair. She had faded red hair done in a sloppy pinned up-do and wore clothes that looked too modern that matched with the town’s appearance. She looked to be as old as Fitzsimmons but the stern expression she had on her face made her look older. Whether she was short or the chair, it was hard to tell. Her head barely cleared the counter as Dot walked right up to it. She looked up, lowering her glasses to take a good look at the trio.

“Yes—"

Armand rang the little bell.

The clerk looked annoyed but Dot’s gaze dared her to say something about it. The clerk continued after deciding that it was best not to pick a fight with a mother hen, “Can I help you?” even her tone sounded stern.

“We’d like a room to store our items. Does it cost anything to use a room for a couple of hours?” Dot asked. She surely wasn’t going to let anyone stay the night. She was also apprehensive of the clerk’s answer considering the impression they made on her didn’t seem to be a good one. But she surprised them.

“For a couple of hours? Thirty-five bucks.”

Even so, Dot thought that was still pricy given the condition of the inn. And the town.

“We’ll take it,” Dot briskly said. If the clerk had any questions about them, she didn’t ask. She rang up the order and gave them a single key as soon as Dot paid with the company expenses. Of course, they didn’t take a card but it was a good thing Dot carried cash on her, too.

Dot looked down at the key in her palm. It wasn’t a hotel keycard, but a bona fide brass key. She didn’t think anyone gave out room keys like this anymore. In an automated world, it was something of a shock.

“Rooms are up top.” She indicated with a jerk of her head and went back to her newspaper. It was a painless transaction for the most part.

The rest of the space that consisted of the inn was scattered with a sitting area with couches and chairs and coffee tables that surprisingly looked dry in the middle of a flooded room. Dot still wouldn’t sit in them and she wouldn’t allow Dodger or Armand to either. Beyond the seating area were a set of stairs and that was where they headed, heavy wet footsteps landing on the first solid floor they saw since arriving. The stairs turned into a hallway, lit by candlelight and veering off into many rooms behind closed doors.

The number of their room was numbered on their key.

13.

Dot held it up with a laugh, “Bad omen?”

Dodger breathed out through his nose. “This entire town is a bad omen.”

Dot laughed. “Preach, honey.”

Dot opened the door and though it didn’t make sense was glad to see that it wasn’t flooded. The interior was decorated as any regular motel; two beds, a dresser, bathroom, and a desk. There didn’t seem to be a television or a closet but that was alright. They weren’t going to be needing anything to entertain themselves and they didn’t expect to fully unpack. Dot wanted to do the job and get out. The day was still young and who knew where this was going to lead them? Hopefully not the entire day.

Just in case, she’d have to inquire about extended time if that’s what it took.

Dodger put down the suitcases, “I’ll make a quick run next door and grab the drink.”

Dot nodded, “Alright. It doesn’t take all three of us to do that job. We’ll meet you at ol’ Mr. Drunky-McDrunkface.”

“I thought his name was Fitzsimmons.” Armand inquired with sincerity.

Dot placed a hand on his cheek. “Oh honey.”

“First-Mate Fitzsimmons,” Dodger corrected before he ducked out the door.

Dot shook her head and started to haul their equipment briefcases onto the bed. Opening with a click, the sophisticated equipment looked impressive enough that Dot refrained from touching them. Much like DID, Dot was afraid of touching something and fear that it would break. Dodger worked on these items himself and so often handled them that she’d feel incredibly bad if it fell from her hands. Of course, he always insisted they were durable and tested one by dropping it to the ground.

It succeeded in making her laugh and instilling a bit more confidence in allowing her to handle some of the meters and cameras. There was no telling what they were going to need here, so she left everything as it was. She was just double-checking over the inventory despite knowing Dodger was thorough in everything he did.

Armand sat on the other side of the bed, bringing his leg up and exhibiting a wet boot. “What a strange sensation. It’s really uncomfortable.”

“I know but I’d advise not to change your shoes yet, love.” Dot said. “We still have to go back out and talk to Fitzsimmons unless you’d rather wait in the room for us.”

There was nothing to do and she didn’t want to stick Armand by himself even if she allowed him to play with her laptop. She thought she’d offer in any case. She was relieved when Armand shook his head.

“I want to stay close to you guys.” He smiled.

“And we want you close.” Dot smiled in return. “Now, come on. Let’s go see if Fitzsimmons remembered to stay still.”

Armand waited as Dot locked the door to the room and kept the key in a safe place on her persons. There didn’t seem to be anymore takers at the inn, so she felt everything would be relatively safe. Leading Armand through the waterlogged inn and outside once more, she was pleased to see that Fitzsimmons was still at the same place he had been before.

Dodger met up with them a few moments later, holding a silver flask in his hand. Without a word, he handed it to Fitzsimmons who unscrewed the thing in a hurry and seemed to gulp down whatever was in it. It was like watching a man who had been dying of thirst.

“Ah! That hits the spot!” he belched which earned him a grossed look from Dot and a startled jump from Armand. “Now I can continue on wi’ me tale.”

“Please do,” Dodger said without humor.

Bolstered, Fitzsimmons seemed like a new man as he recounted the tale that couldn’t have gone on without his dumbass drink. “As I were sayin’ before, I’m the sole survivor of the Ocean Spray. About a year ago, there wus a terrible upheaval in the waters that sunk us, wrecked off the coast of Whitecrest. Ah, so close to ‘ome, we were!” he took in a shuddering breath and continued, “The entire thing was disaster. But not too soon after, I be hearin’ things. It’s th’ wind, they say but nay! I know. I know them cries. For you see, among our goods for trade, we were burdened with a great treasure, a terrible treasure, and I suspect it’s the eerie powers that it yields that keeps the souls of me brethren trapped within’ the ships rottin’ remains.”

Now it was beginning to become clear why Stephen had been called. But at the same time, Dot wondered why the task wasn’t just passed onto the Agency if there were simple reports of a haunting. But then again, nothing was ever simple when it came to the Supernatural.

Fitzsimmons continued to moan, “I’m haunted by ‘em, day and night. M’best friend, Soggy, he calls for me.”

Dot had to clamp a hand over her mouth from laughing at the name Soggy. Was it in bad taste to make a joke about how ironic it was to be shipwrecked and have that name? Dot mentally waved the thought from her head and continued to make a straight face. The only indication that gave her thoughts away was the twitch in the corner of her lip. She met Dodger’s gaze and knew that he knew.

Fitzsimmons took them all by surprise as he grabbed Dot by the shoulders and started to shake her, “Please help me! Look for ‘im by the wreckage and… and… just tell ‘im to leave me alone!”

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Dot exclaimed, trying to pull herself away from Fitzsimmons grip. It surprised her that he was stronger than he looked. She could tell that Dodger and Armand were bristling, kicking into action the instant Fitzsimmons had moved; Dodger gave Fitzsimmons a harsh shove in his chest with just enough strength to take him by surprise but not overpower him. Armand pulled Dot away and pulled her behind him.

“We’ll do this for you,” Dot stated from around Armand. “just calm down. We’re aware of how scary hauntings can be, just calm down.”

Fitzsimmons seemed to be appeased by the agreement, a hand over his sternum which was no doubt bruised thanks to Dodger’s freakish show of strength. He nodded mutely, seemingly submissive now. That shove must have sobered him up some.

“Thank ye, lass.” Fitzsimmons said quietly. Dot didn’t feel bad for him but was pleased to see he had the sense to be grateful for their help. Stepping out from around Armand, she gestured towards the docks. “Is the wreckage that way?”

Fitzsimmons nodded, helping further by pointing out the direction. “Along the coast, ya can’t miss it. It’s run aground. Should be half on the land.”

“Well, that does simplify things.”

The trio break away from Fitzsimmons to head towards the dock. They were surprised to see that it was floating. It wasn’t very comforting to Dot in any case. “I don’t know how they can live here,” she said with a sense of wonder. She couldn’t wrap her head around what could be so great about this place.

“Maybe they just don’t have anywhere to go,” Dodger reasoned.

“That’s ridiculous. The world isn’t confined to this one space.”

“That’s true.”

Instead of chancing the trip along the dock, Dot deemed it safer to go by land. And she didn’t really want to fall into the ocean. In order to walk along the coast, they had to walk out of Whitecrest and circle around. Dot reasoned they should stay close to the border of town because the rest of the area was marshland and she did not want to be stuck out in it. But first, they needed some of their gear. If this was ghost hunting, they needed it.

Heading back to the inn, Dot and Dodger passed equipment back and forth at each other.

“We don’t want anything too heavy.” Dot said, “We just need something to classify the entities so that means the Glasses and meters so we can see if they’re even around.”

Dot gave Dodger a weary gaze as she took spare Glasses from his hand. He had said earlier he reverse engineered them and was able to develop his own AI from what he had learned. There was a reason she had been so adamant on not being a witness to what he was saying. It was rumored that Tony Stark from 616 developed a sophisticated system of his own and much like the entity the government was, fought to acquire said technology. Apparently it wasn’t the first time Stark Tech had been requisitioned. It was a messy battle with the introduction of the 6969 government which was the benefactor of the leftover Dovir technology on the planet. Everyone wanted a piece of Stark’s technology which had utilized Dovir tech in order to create new equipment that aided the production of an upgraded Iron suit. Since the Dovirs had left technology on both worlds, it was more like a custody battle which eventually met a truce in the end. Mr. Stark would develop a blueprint for the governments to use but rumor was that he input a “dumb” AI to replace his sophisticated one: A.R.T.I.I. and he wasn’t budging on releasing specs on upgrading them; he did his part and washed his hands of the rest.

So, the Agency was the first to acquire usage of these A.R.T.I.I. Glasses. Who knew where else they flew to, but Dot’s experience with them had been with the Agency. They were quite useful; an automated system that allowed one to verify whether the entity you were looking at were Human or Supernatural based on previously collected data. That was all they really did, otherwise.

Funnily enough, rumors say that A.R.T.I.I. stands for A Really Tacky Intelligence Inside.

Dot was just worried that if word got out that Dodger was able to upgrade the specs himself, he might be in serious trouble. It was unclear which kind, too. They might arrest him and force him into giving up his own secrets or worse, what if Tony Stark finds out? Dot was tempted to ask for certain about D.A.D. but Dodger had moved on, explaining the camcorder functions to Armand.

“Armand’s going to be our camera guy?” Dot asked with a grin. She was clipping a taser to her thigh. The Agency’s lower level entry Agents didn’t use guns and she implemented the feature feeling guns were too much for her to use. If anything, she’s always felt more at home with a stun baton in her hands. If she needed anything for range, she had her taser gun and that was as close as she was getting. Besides, bullets didn’t harm ghosts. And she didn’t like shooting Supernaturals anyway; tasers did just as much damage overloading ghost energy or stopping a Bigfoot in its tracks based on the voltage. She often found she didn’t have to use these items, though. But Dodger insisted on taking them especially for her safety.

“I had entertained the idea,” Dodger admitted. “I’m giving him the easier ones. I’ll keep the Go Pro for myself.”

“Ah, of course.” Dot laughed. “I don’t even use the Go Pro.”

“You could. I could teach you, too.”

“I’m fine sharing the one Armand’s going to use,” Dot winked. Armand smiled and Dodger shook his head, his own good-natured smile beginning to take form before he got into serious mode. He patiently explained to Armand about the features of the camcorder he was entrusting in his hands. Armand was a fast learner and before Dot realized it, they were ready to hit the shore.

Leaving the inn behind, Dot lead the group to their planned trek out near the town’s border, walking along it and careful not to step into anything that could impede their progress.

Soon, their boots began to hit some solid ground more frequently than wading around in straight water. The coast was in their sight and the horizon of the ocean greeted them, sun shining brightly overhead. Dot had forgotten it was midday. It was like a new world out here. Dot continued to lead the group in silence, everyone concentrating on their footsteps and making sure they didn’t trip over any exposed roots or fallen logs and rocks.

Armand surprised them by breaking the silence with asking, “Do you think it was important that Doctor Strange solve this case?”

Dot and Dodger looked at each other as he was helping her over a large log. Dot had the thought before but now that Armand had said it, it was a good opportunity to reflect on it as a team.

“I’ve had the same thought,” Dodger admitted.

“Me, too.” Dot chirped in. “It’s a case the Agency could solve, no problem, so I wonder why the Agency didn’t get the call but Stephen did.”

“There has to be more beneath the surface,” Dodger said with certainty.

“Perhaps,” Dot said with a thoughtful tone. All it did was tell them to keep their guard up and as the saying goes, nothing is what it seems. Dot caught the sight of a mast poking out the mess of trees that blended in along the coast. “I think I see it.” she announced.

Surely enough, the Ocean Spray was drudged up on the coast. The mast Dot had seen had once held beautiful sails but they looked as ratty as ancient curtains, eating by very large moths. A shadow of its former self, it seemed cast in a constant state of shade. It lent the affect that the place was as dreary as it looked in solitude against a lively vibrant ocean. Waves were brushing up against its faded and forgotten wood, barnacles attached underneath occasionally peeked into view with the receding waters. Stepping closer to the wreckage filled one with a heavy air of apprehension. It looked older than a year old wreck which set off red flags in Dot’s mind. She was about to comment on it when Armand pointed out towards the horizon.

“There are more ships out there,” he said.

Dot and Dodger followed his gaze. The ocean was calm, its waves the only disturbance against the shoreline even as the scenery of several masts peering out of the water marked them like grave markers. Dot had no doubt underneath the waves rested an ominous ship graveyard.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this place,” Dot couldn’t help but utter. “It’s cold. Feels detached.”

Dot was talking about the emotion behind the wreckage. She could feel that there was a heavy air attached but it was hard to explain. Armand must have thought she meant she was physically cold because he took off his jacket and wrapped it around Dot’s shoulders.

“Oh, no, honey.” Dot laughed, shrugging out of it and wrapping it around his again. Looking at his bare arms really did make her look cold and she worried about it even though she knew logically, he couldn’t feel cold. “I meant, the feeling of the place. It’s a sad place. Definitely haunted like Fitzsimmons said.”

Armand frowned, his delicate brows coming together to complete the expression. His hands came up looking for something to do and landing on the collar of Dot’s jacket. He pulled them together as he asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

“They’re not strong emotions,” Dot smiled, touched at Armand’s worrying. Dodger stepped closer, nudging her to get her attention. She looked up, seeing he had his gaze on the ship.

“We might want to search it before it gets too dark.” He said, hinting at a great fear. Dot’s eyes widened in realization and she nodded with newfound resolve.

“Absolutely.”

The best thing to do was to search where they could on the dry land. Dot didn’t even think about going below the surface. The Ocean Spray was laying half on its side which made the top deck pretty accessible and that was where Dot wanted to search.

“We’re supposed to find somebody named Soppy?” Dodger asked.

Dot laughed, “Soggy.” She corrected.

The trio stopped in their tracks as soon as the air changed. It was Dot who turned around and saw that there was a figure standing behind them, further inland. She cleared her throat and Dodger and Armand’s gazes followed.

“I think we found him.”

 “Okay, Armand, record everything from this point forward.” Dodger instructed as they started to walk towards the lone man near the tree line.

Soggy was clearly an apparition. The A.R.T.I.I. system picked up on that much. Not to mention, he was see-through. Faced with ghosts nearly every day for their job, it never got easier seeing one. It was especially jarring when they showed up out of nowhere. Armand was the only exception and even then, he couldn’t really convey what a Ghost was and why they did what they did. Even now as he was recording, Armand didn’t put off the normal appearance of a Ghost.

As they reached him, they could see he looked as weathered and old as Fitzsimmons; he had a long beard and mustache and a wool cap that fit over his head. His straggly hair was grayed and fell over his shoulders like stringy shoelaces. He had the appearance of someone who had lived their entire life on the sea. A rightful ol’ salt dog if Dot had ever saw one. Other than his ghostlike appearance, he didn’t seem threatening. As soon as he was ready, he started to speak.

His voice sounded like he was trapped underwater. But it wasn’t too hard to understand him. If they needed help, A.R.T.I.I. or D.A.D., Dot wasn’t sure at this point, had real-time subtitles scrolling along to guide them.

“Fitzsimmons must have sent ye, hah?”

Dot looked between Dodger and Armand before nodding at the apparition. So, there was some stock to what ol’ Fitzsimmons was saying.

“He told us he’s been hearing the wails of the deceased. Your wails.”

“He should.” Soggy said, thoughtful. Or as much as he could underwater. “The sailors of the Ocean Spray are damned. Damned and cursed to wander the shores in agony.” He sounded irritated, upset. Dot and Dodger exchanged a heavy glance at a certain word but before they can ask him to elaborate, he continued. “Fitzsimmons and his anguish are one in the same as ours. We be tied together; as long as we suffer, ‘ee suffers wi’ us. There canna be no rest for ‘im, not before ye end the sufferin’ of my crewmates.”

Dot swallowed thickly, not liking where this was heading. “…How can we do that?”

Soggy doesn’t answer but instead, disappeared. It left Dot in a stupor before she got irritated herself. “Why do they do that?”

“Because they live a hard life and want to make our lives hard, too?” Dodger suggested. The annoyance was in his tone and Dot laughed at that. “We have no idea how to end the suffering of his crewmates. But I’m not put off to a good purge.” Dodger continued. “Also, Armand, did you happen to get all that?”

Dot shook her head but Armand nodded. Then he asked, “Will the spirits be upset with us?”

“I don’t know how anyone can ever be upset with you,” Dot sighed but answered more seriously. “They’re not upset with us but just upset. They’ve been anchored to this realm for a long time, they’re—” Dot’s eyes widened. “Cursed.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Dodger sighed, then added, “And it suddenly becomes clear why Stephen Strange was enlisted.”

“That’s…” Dot was at a loss for words. “Not even the Agency messes with Cursed items. I thought there was a special department for that.”

“There was a rumored special department for that.”

Dot worried on her bottom lip, looking lost. Dodger had pretty much taken the same expression, looking pensive and dark. Armand was the only one who didn’t understand.

“What’s wrong?”

Looking up, Dot explained, “Curses are bad news. They’re powerful because it can come to harm anyone indiscriminately. They can be triggered by anything, cast by anyone, and can be absolutely devastating. Curses are classified as unknown power with an even bigger unknown power set and aren’t dealt with in the Agency because they weren’t equipped to handle them. They didn’t even have a place to put Curses even if they could because then, the Curse would be attached to that area. I don’t know if the Agency did have a department that handled Curses but I know they didn’t handle them at all in the main office. If they popped up, they were never heard from again. I thought they got thrown out, something like, tough ass shit. We can’t do anything about it. And that was that. But apparently, I guess they were handed to Stephen or perhaps other Supers that had more knowledge and a way to deal with the Occult than we did.”

“You have to remember that the Agency is a fairly new organization and so is the fragile peace between the Humans and Supernaturals,” Dodger added. Then he sounded thoughtful, “It makes sense, though. A Sorcerer would be equipped to handle Curses especially if he had somewhere to put the items or a way to break them.”

“Are Curses items?” Armand asked.

“Usually. They need the items to be wished upon. Sort of like how Poltergeists need anchors like items or people to draw their power from. How Ghosts are attached to a place or item or a person to exist—basically, I’d say half of Supernatural aspects all revolve around objects. But a more powerful entity or Curse do not need items. That’s how you know shit is fucked. It’s nearly impossible to get rid of them unless you can purge the entity itself—but Curses are different. They aren’t entities. They’re wishes and you can’t purge something without a form.”

“The area becomes a Black Site. Nothing’s able to grow on the land and misfortune follows its inhabitants.” Dodger interjected, turning to Armand to further explain. “It could cause people to commit suicide, hear voices to drive them to do heinous things, or anything else to carry out its will.”

“Curses sound like serious business,” Armand stated, looking out towards the shipwreck. “If these sailors are Cursed, how do you expect to help them?”

Dot took in a deep breath. How indeed? She knew she promised Stephen that they’d accomplish what the Agency couldn’t do. Curses are a big deal but she didn’t want to go back on her word. She couldn’t imagine seeing the disappointed look on Stephen’s face when they have to report that they’ve failed.

She made up her mind.

“First, we’re going to have to find that item.”

Her resolve caused both Armand and Dodger to look at her; Armand even lowered the camera a little, peering out of the side. They were searching her expression. By now, they knew the dangers of Curses as well as Dot knew them herself. But she figured if they were careful, didn’t act like fools, they could come out of this thing on top.

“Alright, I’m in.” Dodger said, earning a grateful look from Dot.

Armand was also nodding along, looking as always, willing to help. He even lifted the camcorder higher as to emphasize his point. “Me, too!” He said, “I’m a Ghost, so I don’t think it should be hard for me to get out of sticky situations.” He paused and looked at Dodger, “Did I use that right?”

“Yes. You’re learning.”

“Ghost or not, we don’t want to put you in any danger, either.” Dot argued. “Just because you can go through objects doesn’t mean you’re entirely invincible. We still don’t know what can and cannot hurt you. This Curse might be even more dangerous to you because you’re …” Dot trailed off, not wanting to bluntly say Armand was dead. He seemed to understand though.

“Then I’ll be careful,” he said with a warm smile on his face.

The group now had the spooky task of searching the wreckage with the fact of ghosts looming over their heads. Dot didn’t want to think about it as Dodger pulled her up after climbing up to the top of the deck. He lifted her with ease and it never failed to surprise Dot when he did; where did he get his freakishly strong strength from? Armand was next and when the three of them took the time to realize where they were, it was time to put their serious faces on.

Dot looked out towards the horizon, the sun still shining brightly overhead. Dodger followed her gaze then met her eyes. “It’s still hours before dusk. We’ll be long gone before then.”

Dot half-smiled, grateful for the reassurance.

“You can stay above while I check further down if it makes you feel better.”

Dot shook her head, “I’m okay. As long as we’re not going in the water, I’ll be fine.”

Armand looked over, wondering what they were talking about. Dot explained.

“I have a fear of dark water. Like I said before, as long as my head is above or I can see the ground in a body of water, I’ll be fine.” Armand nodded, giving her a sympathetic expression.

“I’ll be with you.”

Dot smiled. “Thanks.”

True to Armand’s word, he stayed with her. Dodger took the lower quarters while Dot stayed one floor below the top deck. There were plenty of places to look around on top and Armand stayed by her side throughout the search while making sure to film for their records. The sentiment was doubly sweet as she soon discovered that the sailors were finally making their appearance. Since the only light provided was the sun and the ship barely had any windows or cracks for sunlight to filter through, Dot had to rely on the sweeping beam of her flashlight to help her search. She’s been in spooky and dark rooms before but something about a ghost ship filled her with dread. She wasn’t sure whether it was the knowledge of the Cursed item hanging over her head or expecting something to jump out at her which startled her more.

She and Armand were searching a room that looked like it had once held a navigator’s effects. The space wasn’t as cramped as the other rooms, providing a huge oval table in the middle with a tattered map on top. The furniture was old and dusty but that rang the same for the rest of the room, too. Cobwebs strung from various places like Halloween decorations and she decided the scenery wasn’t much different from a haunted house. The only sounds coming from the room were her own breathing and Armand softly shifting paper around on desks. There was plenty of paper in this room, too.

What first got her was when a stack of sheets fell, the familiar sound of a dozen or so sheets falling one after another slowly at first and then outward, like a fan. She jumped, turning around and meant to shine the light on the source but ended up face to face with an apparition that apparently had been standing behind her the entire time. She couldn’t help it, she squealed and swung her flashlight outwards in an arc that sent the apparition dispersing like smoke.

Armand was at her side in seconds, looking around, “What was that?”

“One of the sailors,” she wheezed, trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heartbeat. Her Glasses were giving her warnings about the activity level in the room. She slid them up to rest on the top of her head. “God, I hate when they do that!”

From then on, it was always out of the corner of her eye because she had learned not to turn around as fast as she had previously. If they weren’t moving objects in a shockingly short jerk or slamming doors from other rooms, they were whispering at her neck and touching her on the leg, on the shoulder, tugging her hair. It was aggravating but never failed to make her jump a little. She was never prepared for the touching. Eventually, Armand was standing at her back and they seemed to stop.

By then, she realized they had searched everything they could below deck. “Hopefully Dodger is having better luck,” she said, leading to the way to the staircase Dodger had taken below. It was darker down here and she was hesitant on going down. How the fuck was Dodger doing this by himself?

“Not quite,” he said as he emerged from underneath. Dot blinked in surprise as Dodger gestured for her to follow him. With apprehension, she and Armand went further below.

Much like above, there were plenty of rooms that was meant to serve as a trading vessel for a full crew. The galley was down here as was the Captain’s quarters and where the sailors slept. When their feet starting sloshing in water, Dot paused.

“Wh-where are you taking us, Dodge?”

“Don’t worry,” he said. Dot was about to remark about how that wasn’t an answer when she noticed he had stopped leading them and was now staring down at the ground. When she followed his gaze, her chest tightened. There was a little square opening that quite obviously had a ladder going down. It was where the water was coming from. There was another level and it was completely submerged.

“I’m willing to bet it leads to the hull and it was probably where they placed the goods.” Dodger explained. But Dot couldn’t tear her gaze away from the murky depths of the sea below. It was almost black and when she shined her light on it, she could have sworn she saw an eye dart away.

“You are NOT going down there,” Dot protested immediately.

Dodger was already taking off his jacket and boots and handing Armand his Glasses. As he was rolling up his sleeves, he said, “Don’t worry, I won’t be more than five minutes. I can hold my breath for fifteen. I won’t drown.”

“That wasn’t what I was worried about! Didn’t you see that eye!?”

Dodger shined his light on the hole and the trio stood in silence. “I don’t see anything.”

“It was there!”

“Are you sure you didn’t hallucinate it? Your fear of dark water, mingled in with the ghosts of the sailors—”

“I did not imagine it!”

Dodger stared at Dot, weighing her answer. She was emotional, yes, but she was also worried about his safety. The look on her face couldn’t lie to him and he had never known her to. “I believe you,” he said. Dot was relieved. “But I have to check.”

“Dodge—no—!”

Dodger had sat on the edge of the opening and slipped in like he was swallowed by the sea. She could see the beam of his flashlight sweep across from in the little opening before his head broke the water and he quite simply said, “I don’t see anything down here. I’ll be back.”

She couldn’t fight with him if he couldn’t hear her as his head went back under. Dot sighed heavily, like an upset mother, ranting to Armand about how he never listened to her. “He thinks he’s so brave! …I mean, he is but being brave doesn’t mean he’s not being stupid!”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Armand tried to reassure her, “If it makes you feel any better, I can go down there with him.”

Dot gripped Armand’s arm, “No! Him going down there is bad enough. You stay here where I know you’re safe.”

And she sat there, gripping Armand’s arm. When five minutes past, she began to panic.

“He said five minutes. He said five minutes, right?”

“Yes,” Armand agreed, patting Dot’s hand. “do you want me—”

“If you say go down there, I’m going to spank you.”

Armand’s eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut.

Six minutes. Dot knew because she was counting.

Seven.

Eight.

She was contemplating on going herself. Dot broke away from Armand and started to take off her own jacket and propped herself against the wall to start taking off her boots, “I’m going in!”

As soon as she popped her boot off, Dodger emerged. He took a deep gasp for breath, shaking his curls free of excess water and brought his arm up to support himself. “I found it.”

“I hope you’ve found Jesus down there, too,” Dot snapped. “That was nearly ten minutes! What happened to ‘Oh, it’ll just be five minutes, Dot!’ It wasn’t five minutes!”

Dodger looked surprised, “It wasn’t five minutes?” Before Dot could reply, he lugged up with some effort what looked like a medium sized lockbox onto the wooden flooring. Water sloshed off the intricately carved top and rolled down the sides and it shut Dot up. The object was no doubt Cursed. She could immediately feel it.

“It must have been this,” Dodger continued. “I could have sworn I set my timer to go off in five—” Just then, his wrist watch started to beep. “—minutes. See, I must have been stuck in some time-altered space.”

“Good work, Dodge…” Dot murmured. Just being in its presence was uncomfortable never mind what Dodger had been insinuating.

Armand said it in words. “There’s a really unsettling feeling about that thing. It’s really dangerous.”

“I tried to open it but it won’t open. I figured it was safer in the lockbox anyway.”

“Why the fuck would you try to open it?”

Dodger paused. “Hm... you’re right. That wasn’t a really good idea. I wonder if it clouded my judgement, too.”

“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here,” Dot sighed. She helped Dodger up and they both took the time to put their clothes back on. Dodger had asked why she had taken her things off but she just gave him a pinch on the cheek. He still had a look of confusion on his face when Dot told him to grab the lockbox and haul ass out of there.

By the time the trio made it back on the shore, the sun was sinking lower. Dot’s eyes widened in realization. “Just how long were we down there?”

“It couldn’t have been for more than an hour,” Dodger said, looking down at his watch. “right?”

Dot didn’t want to admit it but she cast a glance at the box and knew she’d be glad when Stephen came to take it off their hands. If this thing had the ability to mess with their sense of time, who knew what else it could do. Well, besides curse sailors to a horrible afterlife haunting the ship they died in.

“Let’s see if ol’ Soggy is around.”

It sounded like a good suggestion at the time but try as they might, there was just no sign of him. Dot rubbed her head, feeling stumped. “Well, maybe taking this thing out of the ship brought peace to him and the sailors. Let’s see if Fitzsimmons feels any different.”

Armand was turned around, looking back towards the ship catching the two’s attention. The camcorder off and forgotten in his hand.

“What is it, love?”

“I don’t know. It just feels different.”

Dot took a moment to follow Armand’s gaze and understood. The aura surrounding the ship felt lighter. She gave Armand a warm smile, rubbing his back. “Come on, let’s get someplace warm, soon.”

Once more, they made the trek following the town’s border back into the town square. It was unfortunate the town was still submerged. Since Dodger was walking around soaked, supposing it made no difference to him.

“I’m hella surprised Fitzsimmons wasn’t in the place we left him,” Dot said once they got to where they last seen him. His spot was empty, just a lonely looking sandbag wall and no remnants that he had been there before. “but he’d be crazy to stay out here with the sun sinking as fast as it is.”

It was amazing to them how fast night was approaching. Dot was just glad to be out of the vicinity of the ship at this point. She then suggested the tavern, “He might have been allowed to go back in. Let’s see if he’s there and if not, maybe he’s in one of these rowboats.” She joked.

“That, I would not doubt.” Dodger agreed.

The tavern looked to be busy for as busy as it could get with a population of twenty. It was just surprising to Dot that there was a nighttime crowd even in a place like Whitecrest. She had no idea what Dodger experienced but by his expression, he wasn’t surprised. Or impressed.

She went to the first person she saw who happened to be a barkeep and asked, “Do you happen to know if Fitzsimmons is around here somewhere?”

“Fitzsimmons?” The barkeep scrunched his nose, taking on the appearance of a piglet. He looked thoughtful through his confusion as if trying to recall everyone he’s ever met in his life. “There ain’t nobody ‘round ‘ere a-named Fitzsimmons.”

Dot had that same feeling of dread in her stomach and all those little red flags started to appear again. She just knew something weren’t right. But she had to ask. “Are you sure? I mean, he was pretty drunk when we saw him. Must mean he comes in here all the time. Even said he was kicked out—”

“No, ma’am. Ain’t no Fitzsimmons ‘round ‘ere.”

There was something in the barkeep’s tone that convinced Dot that he had been sure. She exchanged glances between Dodger and Armand who looked just as stumped as she did. Dot gestured with her head that they should leave.

On their way out, they were stopped by a man seated near the exit.

“Did ye say Fitzsimmons?”

His gravelly voice caught their attention if not the name. Dot wanted to feel relief but something was telling her not to relax yet. The group quietly sat down at the table, Dodger turning on his Go Pro, determined to catch whatever information they might need to review. But Dot wasn’t focusing on that right now. She was focused on yet another old man.

“That’s right,” she said. “do you know him?”

“I’m a relative.”

Dot’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, great. Okay, well can you tell him—”

“A relative of the man of a man of a man of a man who married his daughter.”

“…Of course.”

“Legend ‘round these parts speak of ol’ Fitzsimmons who died a long, long time ago. He might ‘ave been a townee at one point, but ya gotta check the registry to see for certain. Considerin’ not a lotta people live ‘round here no mo’, the registry gotta be, say, a hunnred years ol’.”

“That’s… fantastic,” Dot sighed, sinking lower in her seat. “Well, can you tell us the rest of this legend?”

The man nodded, “Course. Around the time of the Great War, Whitecrest was a burstlin’ harbor. It didn’t look anythin’ like it does today. It was more advanced, for one. It weren’t flooded. But one thing remains the same, we relied on trade the same way we do today. S’what gives this town its prosperous roots. Well, the Dovirs changed that. Much liken they changed most parts. With the Glassing attempt, the seas changed. The day it happened, the seas were the worst they ‘ave ever been and ain’t nothin’ been like it since. Unfortunately, lots of our ships ne’er came back that day. The closest anyone e’er seen was the wreck off the coast, the Ocean Spray.”

There was a moment of silence before the man said quietly, “I wouldn’t suggest goin’ out there. Especially this late at night. Place is real spooky-haunted.”

There was irony in that statement but unfortunately none of them were energized enough to appreciate it. But apparently he wasn’t done there.

“E’ery so often, people like yourself come ‘round and claim they on an errand or whatnot for Fitzsimmons. Somethin’ about wails and cur-sed objects—" he paused, looking over at Dodger as the Cursed lockbox sat on his lap and he seemed to finally take in the soggy appearance. There was another beat of silence before he finally said, “But that’s jes’ a legend, right?”

No one said anything else. Dot stood up and Dodger and Armand followed. They quietly made their way to the inn. Dodger announced he was going to take a shower and no one blamed him. Dot was next but Armand simply changed out of his clothes and laid on the bed next to Dot.

“Do you think this case was a success?” he innocently asked.

Dot tilted her head back, trying to get a better look at him. It was so sweet of him to ask. She was confused and honestly, terrified of what they went through, but she nodded. “I think so. We retrieved an item that was obviously dangerous. Fitzsimmons and Soggy and this weird town, I’m sure we put a lot of their worries to rest. Some might not even realize it.”

Armand looked happy enough with Dot’s answer, content with everything in his little ghost world. They remained in silence for a while, Dot idly playing with Armand’s hair when Dodger returned. He looked renewed and Dot decided she wanted to wash away the day’s endeavors with a hot shower herself.

“Alright, my turn.” She grinned, grabbing her spare clothes.

“Towels are in there,” Dodger commented as she passed and she gave him a peck on the cheek. The door shut and Dodger started to put away the gear. Armand watched in silence before he asked, “Do you think I’m different from these Ghosts? I know it’s been explained that there are all types of Ghosts but Fitzsimmons and Soggy seemed different from the Ghosts in the ship.”

“You are an entire class of your own, Armand.” Dodger said. It might have sounded like an insult but he meant that with all the compliment he could muster. And Armand certainly took it that way. He smiled.

“I think it’s amazing such a little town like this has such a big legend. What do you think? Do you think we caught all the good stuff with the camera? We certainly have proof we spoke to Soggy but… Fitzsimmons is going to be a little harder to prove, huh? It would certainly help Doctor Strange have a better understanding of our story.”

Dodger looked thoughtful before he picked up the camcorder that Armand had been using the entire day. He hooked it up to his laptop and pretty soon, the entire video was playing on the bigger screen. Armand moved closer to also take a look.

It was obvious Dodger had taught Armand proper. As soon as the camera turned on, Armand’s face was in the screen and he was obviously fumbling with it was Dodger could be heard in the background.

“Okay, Armand, record everything from this point forward.”

Then it cut to black. Armand looked shocked.

“I could have sworn I recorded everything.”

Dodger remained silent, watching the black screen before it flickered to life again. They were walking towards the ship. Scenes jumped from when they were being pulled up to searching around in the cabins. Dot’s jump scares were on camera but other than the trio looking shocked or otherwise frightened, there was nothing to show for it.

Dodger made a noise of disapproval and Armand looked guilty thinking it might have been his fault. “Don’t worry,” Dodger reassured. “this might be a common occurrence if a Curse is involved.” He pulled his camera over and repeated the same process of setting it up on his laptop to watch.

It pretty much recorded the same thing and Armand knew that Dodger wouldn’t have made mistakes. It made him feel a lot better knowing the error wasn’t on his end.

“See,” Dodger stated. “It’s alright. If I had to guess, I assume the Cursed objects prevents being catalogued this way. This is interesting. I’ll have to develop a system that’d allow for its capture.” He started mumbling off things to himself Armand couldn’t even fathom and he had no desire to ask.

Instead, he mused aloud, “Whatever happened is in our memories and experiences now. We’ll have to recite everything to the Doctor.”

“Let’s hope he believes us,” Dodger mused. He had taken out a legal pad and began to write down everything he remembered as it happened. Since the memory was so fresh, he had no problem writing down his accounts and then asking about Armand’s and Dot’s since they were separated.

“We’ll present this as a present to Dot,” Dodger suggested. “she hates the paperwork.”

Armand wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not but coming from Dodger, it might as well have been a serious suggestion.

[alexboehm55144]

Alex Final Wars 2: Dark Alex, Chapter 31 - Vacuum

The typhoon's hanger contained many fighter jets and aircraft that Heroes needed for their duties. Jets and helicopters were parked in specific spots. Service equipment was in ample supply to provide maintenance to the vehicles. The center of the hanger contained a taxiway running lengthwise with regards to the ship. The aircraft were parked on either side of the taxiway.

Eris was in the typhoon's hanger, working on her eagle interceptor jet, making sure it was tuned up and ready for combat. The aircraft's design resembled an eagle in flight, as the engineers took inspiration from themselves for the design. Eris looked between the weapon choices in front of her, debating switching out the eagle standard-issue chi blasters for more ubiquitous machine guns.

"Hey, wing girl!"

The eagle turned to see Laval walking up to her, always wearing his standard blue lion prince outfit, but he didn't have his golden armor on.

"Hey, fur boy!" Eris said, quickly adjusting some of her feathers, so she looked better in front of him.

"Say, why is the typhoon's hanger open on both ends?" Laval asked, looking from one end of the hanger bay to the other, noting both were open. Looking out one end, the lion could see the typhoon's bridge. Looking out the other end, he could see some artificial palm trees that lined the runway to provide some natural ambiance. Fortunately, they could be retracted in combat or for other reasons.

"It's so if a plane had to abort a landing, they can fly right through the hanger and turn around to try again."

"Oh, I wouldn't have thought of that."

As the lion drew closer, Eris hoped he could smell the perfume she had on. Judy had recommended it to her, hoping it didn't have adverse effects on evolved birds.

Laval didn't know what it was, but Eris definitely looked fantastic today. She also seemed to have a pleasant aroma, but he wasn't about to bring that up.

"Uh...Impressive." Laval said, pointing towards the silhouettes of Chinese jets tallied on the plane's skin near the cockpit.

"Oh, thanks. Do you do the same thing with your sword?"

"Nah, I've lost count by now. What are you working on?"

"Just tuning up my jet."

The eagle moved to a workbench nearby and put away some of the tools she had out.

"Trying to figure out if I should equip the machine guns or the chi blasters."

"Personally, I like chi based weaponry myself."

"Yeah, but bullets for the machine guns are easier to get ahold of. We'd need to travel back to Chima to get chi."

"We have plenty of chi for our weapons. How about you use the machine guns for one mission and see how it goes?"

"Alright, good thinking."

Eris picked up one of the machine guns, which was light enough for her to carry singlehandedly. It had to be light since it was going on an aircraft.

"Do you need help with that?" Laval asked as Eris walked over to her jet and slid the weapon into its emplacement on the aircraft.

"Get the other one, would you please?"

The lion picked up the other machine gun with ease and slid it into position, making sure to show off his strength in front of Eris. The eagle giggled and playfully tapped him with the wrench she had in her hand. After a bit of work, the machine guns were locked in place with bolts and screws so they wouldn't dislodge during flight.

"Alright," Eris said, wiping some sweat from her feathers, while Laval sat on a work table nearby. "All that's left to do is test it. Want to take it for a spin with me?"

"Sure!" The lion jumped up, and the pair climbed into the jet's cockpit.

Laval used their close proximity to lean in close and plant a gentle kiss on Eris's cheek, causing the eagle to blush.

"Let's see what this thing can do!"

Eris put the aircraft in hover mode and maneuvered out of the plane's storage space, lining up with the runway.

Without even leaving the hanger, Eris put the vehicle in flight mode and gunned the engines. The backblast was probably knocking over a few things in the hanger. The jet shot out of the hangar bay and lifted off into the sky.

Laval was honestly a little scared. Sometimes his eagle girlfriend's aerial acrobatics were a bit too adrenaline pumping for him.

"You ok sweetie?" Eris asked.

"Uh.... yeah... sure."

Eris zipped past some clouds before the aircraft began circling around a vast cloud. Laval held on tight as Eris turned the jet directly at the cloud and gunned it. The vehicle pierced right through the cloud and coming out the other end.

The eagle pilot then directed the aircraft down towards the ground.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Laval said as the marshland below got closer and closer. But Eris pulled up at the last second and glided over the water, the wings gently dipping into the calm surface of the water.

After a couple seconds of flying just above the waves, Eris pulled the jet up higher, slowed down, and started flying straight. Laval took a few deep breaths while Eris laughed.

"Too much for you?" She jested.

"I..... I'm fine...."

After a few minutes, Laval's heart stopped beating out of his chest, and he calmed down.

"So, how does it handle?" The lion asked.

"Very good. I should find somewhere to test the machine guns. Maybe there's an abandoned field or unprotected land nearby."

The radio suddenly came to life, with a voice speaking through it.

"Hero vehicle, you are entering restricted airspace. Leave immediately."

"Affirmative," Eris said, "moving to comply."

The eagle turned the jet and headed in a different direction.

"What was that about?" Laval asked.

"We're near Cape Canaveral; we must have accidentally strayed into airspace cordoned off for rocket or aircraft launches."

"Cape Canaveral? Isn't that where Toothdee and Alex are today?"

"Yep, look out the window; you might see them far off in the distance."

The lion scanned the outside with his keen eyes, spotting some buildings and runways. But then his eyes noted a launchpad, upon which a rocket was set up and ready to go. The rocket had a shuttle attached, and onboard were Toothdee and Alex. They were accompanied by a dozen or more Air Force personnel. They were dressed in white armored space suits with attached thrusters and carried ARX 160 rifles with various attachments.

The shuttle's cargo compartment had been modified into a troop compartment, which was stable enough to allow soldiers to travel in, sitting in specially designed seats with safety harnesses.

"I'm surprised they were able to get a suit whipped up for you."

"They just used the tail portion from a suit designed for wolves. Though it's kind of tight."

"Well, at least your tail won't freeze or boil off."

"True, it's worth it."

"So, are we doing anything to the Chinese space station? Or are we just securing it?"

"Far as I'm aware, just securing it. It's become a threat to our efforts in the war."

"I know, I know. It's not every day you get to battle in space."

"Yep, there's Chinese armed forces up there. But we can take them." Toothdee said, playfully tapping Alex.

"They're no match for us."

The intercom activated, and one of the pilots informed the crew that they were about to launch. The countdown began.

"T minus 10.... 9.... 8.... 7... 6...."

"Hang on tight," Toothdee said, gripping her safety harness.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Alex said.

The adrenaline was palpable as the countdown continued.

"5... 4.... 3.... 2..... 1.... main engine start, ignition, and liftoff!"

The vehicle shook and slowly began to move, leaving the ground and streaking up towards the heavens. A large plume of smoke trailed the rocket as it climbed higher and higher.

"Really gets the blood pumping." A cougar astronaut in the troop compartment said.

The flight was not incredibly long, and periodically the rocket detached some of its stages. The components would fall back to Earth for retrieval or would be burned up upon re-entry.

The shuttle was soon moving closer and closer towards the Chinese space station. The armed troops on board were almost certainly alerted to the approaching US forces.

"Approaching the Chinese space station." The intercom system said. "Prepare for battle."

The troops readied themselves, checking ammo and armor.

"Opening bay doors."

The shuttle cargo doors opened, with the white modules and blue solar panels of the Chinese space station clearly visible in front of the black background of space.

Once the bay doors were fully open, the troops disembarked their seats, grabbed their guns, and moved into battle. The Earth's blue and white surface was clearly visible, taking up an entire side of the visual field near the battle zone. The space shuttle also launched rather unsuspecting containers out into space.

"Engage thrusters! Behind the containers!" A gray wolf astronaut yelled, "they're bulletproof. Use them as cover. Some have ammo if you need it."

Two US astronauts were immediately gunned down by Chinese taikonauts. Their bodies went limp and floating in the vacuum of space. One astronaut was surrounded by the glass from where a bullet had gone through her helmet.

Alex and Toothdee advanced to one of the containers, followed by other astronauts. The two heroes took up firing positions and engaged, taking down a few taikonauts.

The astronauts advanced to the station proper, taking cover behind the numerous modules and components that made up the structure. Chinese forces continued to engage and continued to be gunned down as the US forces advanced. Bodies, equipment, and debris floated around the battle, leftover from the fierce fighting.

"Hostiles exiting the main hatches." A soldier said as hatches for mammals of all sizes opened on the station. More taikonauts emerged, weapons at the ready. Heroes approached the central command module, taking careful aim and firing at any hostiles they saw.

"Incoming!" Toothdee said. A mechanical construction arm used for assembling the station appeared and swung at the astronauts. The US forces quickly scattered to avoid the arm, but some were hit. Their helmets and suits ruptured, killing them. Some of the Chinese taikonauts were also hit and suffered the same fate. However, Alex and Toothdee were struck less violently, being sent flying through space directly above part of the station. Occasionally hitting the structure and tumbling along its surface.

The pair of heroes tried to steady themselves with their suit's thrusters as they bounced along an array of solar panels, debris, and wreckage surrounding the two. A few taikonauts continued to engage, bullets whizzing near the pair of heroes. Alex and Toothdee got their bearings and returned fire, hitting Chinese soldiers as they kept tumbling down the solar array. One hostile was crushed by debris from the station.

Once the enemy troops were down, Toothdee quickly stashed her rifle on her back and tried to grab hold of the station to stop herself. Her suit's thrusters weren't doing enough to slow her down. The young warrior's hands hit and bounced off multiple components on the station exterior. She hoped she could slow her velocity and stop before flying off the station and into the void. Eventually, Toothdee was able to grab onto a metal handle, instantly slowing herself to a stop. She reached up and grabbed Alex's hand as he flew overhead, preventing the human from going off into space.

"Oh shit," Toothdee said, as a large chunk of station debris moved towards them. If it hit them, they would be knocked off the station, or worse. Alex, still holding onto Toothdee with one hand, readied his rifle with his other hand. The captain opened fire and destroyed the chunk of debris, breaking it into harmless pieces.

Toothdee pulled Alex towards her, allowing him to grab hold of the station exterior, and the pair readied themselves.

"Thanks for that." The captain said, reloading his weapon.

"Don't mention it. Now let's try going at the central command module again."

The heroes let go of the station and began to once more maneuver through space with their thrusters. Wreckage from the battle surrounded the area, the pair moved through the various containers and debris, using them as cover. A few more Chinese soldiers appeared and engaged but were quickly eliminated by accurate gunfire.

During combat, bullets tore through nearby solar panels, sending small shards of the panels flying through the space around the battle.

Heroes moved towards a fuel module that contained a mixture of both fuel and oxygen, used for resupplying spacecraft.

"Hit that fuel line." Captain Boehm said.

Toothdee fired some rounds at the pipe on the station exterior, and it detonated. The blast scorched some Chinese soldiers nearby and sent others flying off into space. The heroes grabbed onto part of the station and continued to move towards the central command module.

"Watch out!" Alex yelled, taking cover as another mechanical construction arm swung overhead, hitting a taikonaut and breaking her helmet.

"Target the joints!" Toothdee said, aiming and opening fire. Alex engaged as well, using his thrusters to dodge the arm, which moved to attack again. Sparks flew, and the arm spasmed as it sustained damage. Alex and Toothdee backed away to avoid the wild swings of the arm, which convulsed and soon stopped moving entirely.

"I think it's down," Alex said.

"Then let's move up to that central module."

The two heroes advanced, and Alex provided cover. At the same time, Toothdee planted an explosive charge on the central module, next to a series of windows.

"That should still work up here, right?" Alex asked.

"Only one way to find out," Toothdee said, arming the charge before the 2 retreated back to a safe distance.

The charge detonated, blowing off part of the space station module, sending people and cargo out into the icy vacuum. Seizing the initiative, Alex and Toothdee leaped into the breach. The heroes shot a few Chinese mammals in space suits who had managed to grab hold of something to avoid being sucked out of the station. Toothdee grabbed a small, otter taikonaut and tossed him out through the breach, leaving him floating through the vacuum of space.

"Clear!" Alex said as the pair flipped up the tinted black visors on their helmets. "Let's advance into the station interior."

The pair moved through an interior airlock as the voice of a US astronaut came through the radio.

"Heroes, we are entering the station."

"Affirmative." Toothdee said, "we're already inside. Check your targets."

"Acknowledged Heroes."

The pair advanced further into the station, entering the next module. As they entered, 2 Chinese mammals jumped them, grabbing their guns and wrestling with the heroes. A tiger taikonaut grabbed Alex. The two spun around in the zero-gravity environment, wrestling each other to control Alex's rifle. The Heroes captain used his strength to push and aim the rifle's barrel at the tiger's head before pulling the trigger.

The hostile taikonaut flew backward and slammed against the station wall while Toothdee finished off the other mammal.

"Come on, we should be just about done," Alex said, moving to open a door on the opposite end of the room.

Heroes advanced, entering the next room, taking aim at some more Chinese soldiers. But before they could fire, an explosion went off near the Chinese, causing everyone and everything inside the room to be sucked out into the vacuum.

Alex held onto his rifle and covered his face as he crashed through a solar panel. He spun around and deliberately bumped into some soft looking cargo containers to slow himself. Eventually landing feet first on a large chunk of the station & stopping himself. Toothdee was thrown against a piece of debris, using her arms to cushion the blow. She readjusted herself and slowed down with her thrusters, landing right next to Alex.

"What was that?" Toothdee asked, pulling down her visor. But before the captain could answer, Toothdee pointed towards something nearby. Alex turned around and saw 2 red fox astronauts advancing on 3 taikonauts positioned on a piece of wreckage.

2 of the Chinese troopers engaged with rifles, one being human, the other being a panda. The third trooper, also human, readied a rocket launcher and fired. The projectile passed between the 2 US troopers. But, instead of going past them, it detonated, the explosion killing both US astronauts.

"Ok, that is going to be a problem," Toothdee said.

"I think that thing might have a detonation trigger on the launcher," Alex said, flipping down his visor. "Or maybe a proximity trigger."

"Makes sense. We're in space. The operator has to detonate the warhead somehow."

The pair surveyed the field of wreckage in front of them. Cargo containers, shards of solar panels, and parts of the station structure littered the area. Debris of all sizes floated in the vacuum, creating a haphazard landscape of random wreckage.

"I'll sneak around using the debris as cover and hit them from behind." Captain Boehm said. "You draw their fire."

"On it."

"And try not to get killed."

Toothdee engaged the Chinese soldiers, sticking to cover. The rocket trooper aimed and fired, but Toothdee shot the projectile and harmlessly detonated it while the object was traveling.

Alex carefully snuck behind a large part of the station's exterior skin. While the enemy troops were distracted, he moved between a large hole in the skin. He continued onwards towards a damaged solar array, using it to hide from enemy sight.

Toothdee took up position behind a cargo container and managed to take out the human trooper armed with a rifle with a careful shot. But her lack of movement while taking this shot allowed the rocket trooper to launch another projectile. Toothdee pushed against the container she was on and launched herself upwards. The rocket hit the box and blew it to pieces, but not the young warrior.

But Toothdee was now in an exposed position.

Luckily captain Boehm had just gotten behind the 2 remaining soldiers and maneuvered up behind them with his thrusters.

"Hello."

The captain sprayed the soldiers with gunfire, instantly taking down the rocket trooper. He finished off the last trooper, the panda, with a kick to the face, which broke the taikonaut's helmet.

"Heroes, be advised, the station is secure."

"Affirmative, we're here." Toothdee said, "It looks like we did it, Alex."

"Not bad for combat in a unique environment." Alex said, "We better get a medal for this."