Rolling in the 'Deep [Exemplary]

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

“Oy, Freddy! What’s going on, anyway?”

“Beats me, Ted.” Freddy replied. “I’m not paid to think. Duro’s orders.”

The mercenaries were converging on the upper deck, heeding the call of their employer. After a few moments, the stragglers had found their way to the deck, striding toward their compatriots.

“Didja lock the cells, Jim?” Freddy asked the newcomers.

“Of course I did.” The Vulture replied, glaring at the small crowd sitting idle on the deck. “Shouldn’t prettyboy be here by n-”

“Hey guys,” Ted interrupted. “Does something seem…weird to you?”

“Oh shove it, Theodore.” Jim replied.

“No, really. It seems…quiet.” Ted muttered. “Why are the engines off?”

- - -

“So my little brother put you up to this?”

Vincent ignored the question, striding down the hall the way he had come. The staff of the ship was certainly aware that something was awry; he was not keen on being around when they figured it out. The gunslinger heaved yet another vault door open, quickening his pace as they crossed the threshold.

“Not gonna talk, then?” Tal called, struggling to keep up with his savior’s pace. “The kid’s an idiot for getting involved. Still, I’m kinda proud.”

“Please stop talking.” Vincent called over his shoulder. He had to think of an escape plan. Waltzing up onto the front deck and walking briskly past a crowd of henchman was not optimal.

“Fair enough, mate.” Tal responded. “Where’re we going anyway?”

Vincent sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well I mean, we can’t just go topside can we? They’ll pick is off in no time flat.”

The ex-Turk grunted in response, proceeding through another door. Where could they go? Perhaps there were escape pods somewhere belowdecks? Doubtful; this boat seemed to be on its last legs, not exactly indicative of the technological apex that the Empire prided itself on being.

“It’s too bad we can’t just grab the cannons.” Tal sighed, jabbing his finger toward a door. It was the other of the pair of doors Vincent had encountered earlier. “I doubt we could move them far, but we could defend ourselves.

The gunslinger glanced at the door and shook his head briefly. Cannons wouldn't do much good in such an enclosed space regardless, least of all with their ports covered in rusty sheet metal. “It doesn't matter. There’s…” He stopped suddenly, blinking a few times. Suddenly he chucked, striding to the door.

“What’re you doing?” Tal asked, scratching his head.

Vincent yanked the door open. “Cannons.” He replied with a smirk.

- - -

“What the fuck do you mean “the engines are broken”?

“I-I-I mean that something h-happened to trubines, Mr. Duro, sir.”

“That’s impossible, you imbecile. Those engines are the only new part of this ship.” Lieutenant Duro snapped, slamming his hand on the steering apparatus. “Get this tub moving, or the Emperor will hear about this personally!”

“B-b-but I told you. There’s no power going to the engines. Something’s gone w-w-wrong…”
A rhythmic beeping interrupted man’s pleas. The lieutenant gripped his lapel between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing gently. “This is Lieutenant Duro speaking,” he replied with faux-pleasantness.

“We just done the attendance like you asked, sir.” A gruff voice responded. “Four men are missing.”

“Well, page them!” Duro snapped, his cordiality vanishing.

“That’s the thing, sir; we did. No signal from their communicators and their GPS indicators have vanished from the
tracking radar.”
A moment of silence rang though the cabin of the ship. Duro glanced down at the cowering navigator who had busied himself wiping his tears from the floor with a rag. He could feel his blood pressure rising as he activated his communicator once more.
“Search the ship.”