Rolling in the 'Deep [Exemplary]

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

The fleeing duo tumbled through of the makeshift porthole and out of sight just as the vault door crashed open, spilling odd pieces of machinery across the dingy metal floors. The angry cussing of vexed mercenaries briefly met the gunslinger’s ears before the sound of whipping wind whisked it away. Vincent tightened his grip on his companion’s garb, straightening his legs and pointing his metallic sabatons toward the sea in an attempt to correct his trajectory. With their flight plan chosen, their haphazard freefall finally ceased as the ex-Turk’s toes broke the surface of the water, their velocity plunging them several feet below the surface.

On the ship above, the meaty behemoth known as Grak Samm pushed his way through the pack, brushing his subordinates gently aside as he strode to the edge of the damaged ship. He glanced for a moment at the patch of choppy water where his marks had plunged into the sea, scratching at his shaven scalp thoughtfully.

“Lord Grak, should we follow them?” one of Samm’s Vultures inquired, drawing a shiny blaster pistol from its holster.

Grak smirked, shaking his head. “Dredd’s orders were to protect the cargo and keep an eye on Duro. If some of it happened to fall into the sea, that’s Duro’s problem. Besides,” he began, cracking his knuckles, “I’m not about to lose one of my men just to make the pompous prick look better.”

Vincent let out a sharp gasp as his head broke the surface, his aching lungs sucking in the salty ocean air. He quickly brushed a sopping lock of black hair from his visage, rapidly scanning the perimeter for his comrade. Seconds later Tal surfaced, coughing and spitting seawater. “Can you WARN me next time you drag me into the ocean?!”

“Hurry!”

The pair of bobbing heads snapped to attention as Ral’s craft neared, slowing as he approached. The younger Sola brother produced Vincent’s cloak, twisting it into a makeshift rope and tossing the free end toward the duo. The raven-haired gunslinger spun in place without a second thought, drawing his revolver and taking aim up at the Imperial ship. He loosed a few unaimed shots from the firearm, hoping to distract and deter any would-be assailants from taking a similar leap of faith. As the stray slugs pinged off the side of the hull, Vincent paused to take better aim, the barrel now trained on the opening they had escaped through. The seconds ticked away slowly, his finger tensed against the trigger.

“Get in the boat!” the Sola brothers called in unison, tossing the end of Vincent’s now damp cloak within range of its owner. He glanced quickly as the opening one last time before taking hold of the cloth and climbing into the craft.

“Floor it!” Tal yelled, ducking below the side of the small water craft. The speedboat bucked in response, the engines roaring to life by Ral’s command. Seconds later, they were skipping across the water and away from the Imperial craft.

The ex-Turk kept his eyes and his gun trained on the ship, squinting through the darkness, prepared to let loose covering fire if needed. The need never arose; as the ship churned through the dark water and the vessel faded into the night, Vincent was struck by just how easy it had been to escape the ship. Barring the necessary pyrotechnics, they had essentially just walked away from an Imperial prison transport without so much as a single attempt to retrieve them. Though the mercenaries were far from the typical fiercely-loyal storm troopers that the Empire was famous for, Vincent had expected at least some kind of attempt. He slowly lowered Cerberus, replacing it in its sheath. Something was not sitting right with the gunslinger.

“Hell of a job Ral!” the elder brother yelled over the engines, slapping the boy on the back. He beamed at his brother, his smile quickly contorting into a scowl seconds later. “But don’t ever do something like this again; you risked your safety as well as that of our friend here.”

Ral hung his head, his hands falling limp at the controls. The engines died down, reducing their output to a much quieter volume. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you rotting in a prison cell, of being all alone in this Universe…” a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Oh shut it!” Tal laughed, throwing his arms around his brother’s torso. “Like you’ll ever get rid of me!”

Vincent smiled as he watched the Solas, wringing his cloak out over the sea. He retrieved his mantle from beneath the bench seat and fastened the two articles of clothing back to their normal arrangement. As he clipped the last buckle into place, covering the lower half of his face, the elder Sola turned in his direction.

“Well, what do we owe ya’,?” he said with a grin. “You’re not getting away without some kind of reward. You
saved my life!”

The ex-Turk shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You might want to actually get to land before you thank me, though.”

A loud, rhythmic beeping drew the trio’s attention, Tal slowly pulling a now-waterlogged terminal from his waistband. Anxiety surged anew through the cloaked man’s veins as he caught sight of the tiny computer; it would certainly contain a GPS chip within its casing. The elder Sola brother eyed it with more curiosity than suspicion, dragging his finger across its soaked screen thoughtfully.

“Ditch that thing!” his younger brother snapped, reaching for the device.

“No need to worry.” Tal replied, batting his brother’s hand away. “It’s basically fried anyway. The screen just
keeps showing the same message repeatedly on loop. A couple of sentences, looks like names?”

Ral glanced over his brother’s shoulder, his eyes widening. “Vincent…what’s your last name?”

“Valentine.” The pale Prime returned, cocking an eyebrow. “Why?”

Ral jerked the terminal from his brother’s hands, spinning it around to face the gunslinger. In enormous, red font nearly the height of the screen itself scrolled the same handful of words on repeat: “VINCENT VALENTINE. DANTE’S ABYSS. VINCENT VALENTINE. DANTE’S ABYSS.” The words scrolled for a moment before the device’s screen faded to black. The cloaked prime grabbed the terminal, jamming his finger at every button on the device, to no avail.

“Dante’s Abyss?” Vincent muttered, perplexed.

“That name sounds familiar.” Tal asserted, taking the terminal from Vincent’s hands; in one quick motion, the boy flung the device into water. “Some of the Vultures were muttering about it while I was locked up. All that I heard them say was ‘Dante’s Abyss’, ‘Karl Jak’, and something about ‘another universe’.”

Another universe? Could this possibly mean that he could escape the Omniverse? The Prime’s thoughts whirled at a dizzying pace, his eyes glancing at the Solas and then at the several dots of land in the distance. “You want to reward me? Get me back to Costa del Sol and help me find whoever put out this message to me.”

“Dangerous to head back to Costa del Sol after escaping the Empire,” Ral said, shaking his head. “Sorry, bu-“

“BUT,” Tal spoke over his brother, “For Mr. Valentine here, we’ll do it! Besides, it’s dark. Those sissy Imperials are probably all tucked up warm in their bunks by now.”

The younger Sola shook his head, smiling. “Whatever you say, Tal.” He grabbed hold of the throttle once more, kicking the engine into high-gear, with a course set for Costa del Sol.