A Complicated Business

[Sans]

Of course. Just as I had predicted.

The muscular leader’s words were vague, but there was enough there to confirm everything Rando had suspected them of from the beginning. He brought a claw to his chin and scratched at his fur, contemplating. They were definitely stronger than every other representative the Empire had sent to him as well as decidedly more temperamental in the case of Marcus. The sheer undiluted disrespect the human had displayed back near Rhydu’s shop made the fox want to just arrest him on the spot and not give a damn about the potential consequences. He doubted his power; he doubted his intelligence; they all didn’t think he could do anything to them, did they?

Idiots…

After an odd silence, the vulpine lowered his paw and spoke up.

“I see…” he said, deciding to start off slow as he leaned back up against his chair. Dustin bit his lip and fidgeted; Rando glanced at the old man for a moment before returning his attention back to the duo. “An unauthorized stimulant, you say? I don’t believe I am aware of it; all legal products are documented, after all, but not illegal ones. What do you know about it?”

He had a hard time resisting the urge to smile as he stared at the Captain. The subtle look to the side, as if to avoid his gaze, was all the orange-furred mammal needed.

“Does the term ‘Sugarcane’ ring a bell with you, mister Mayor?”

“Ah…” the fox replied, nodding towards the star-spangled soldier. How predictable…

Before either of the confused duo could remark on his smooth, controlled behavior towards what they had said, Rando had pulled open a drawer from his side of the desk. He passed a stack of papers towards his legal adviser, who fumbled with them for a few moments before riffling through them. He paused, having stopped somewhere in the middle of the stack. The fox, paw out to take back a piece of paper, nodded towards him; he frowned at Dustin as he reluctantly passed a document to him.

“I do believe there has been a misunderstanding,” Rando said, giving the old man one last aside glance before showing the duo the sheet. On it was a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo that only someone like Dustin could really try to understand, but what it actually was meant for was obvious: a permit. Specifically, a commercial permit for the crop Riscas Herbas.

“As you can see here,” the orange-furred mayor said, pointing to various spots on the document, “The crop ‘Riscas Herbas,’ known to most everyone around here as ‘Sugercane’ has been legal for purchase, consumption, and transport in and out of Rando Le Terz for at least a few months time. Marlin and I could go into specifics, but the general gist of it is is that the stimulant has been authorized, contrary to what your superiors have told you.”

He slid right back into his chair and placed his paws behind his head, no longer being able to keep himself from grinning like a maniac at the thugs in front of him. The old writer looked away from the others and closed his eyes. Neither the Captain nor the cyborg were capable of masking all of their surprise as they read the sheet. True to Rando’s word, everything was accounted for. There were legal explanations written for everything one could think of. There was nothing to skew, nothing to take advantage of, and nothing to loophole through. It was simply that: a permit.

The star-spangled superhero could only stare at the document in front of him, pondering the best way to approach this. Something as simple as a mere commercial license had thrown every plan he had come up with prior to entering the room straight out the window. And he could tell that the Mayor knew this, given the crooked, curled, confident ‘you can’t touch me nananana-booboo’ shit-eating grin on his animal face. He took a deep breath as he tried to ignore the Mayor, but as his eyes briefly met the terminator’s robotic ones, it was made immediately clear to him that Marcus was doing literally everything in his power not to blow his top. They needed to leave; they couldn’t afford to blow their cover now.

Before he could speak up, however, the cyborg turned his head back towards Rando and whispered to him.

“You brought us into this mess on purpose, didn’t you?” His voice was laced with venom and an odd hiss, which to the mayor made him sound like a mechanical snake.

The vulpine shrugged. “I only did what you both wanted me to do. You wanted clarification, and I gave you it. I suspect this is the end of your ‘investigation?’”

“I don’t think-”

“Yes. Yes it is,” said the Captain, glaring at the cyborg for a good few moments to further emphasize his point, “we are very sorry to have taken time out of your schedule over a falsehood. I hope you can forgive us, mister Mayor.”

Wright looked at the superhero like he had gone insane before the realization of what he was doing smacked him back into stoicism. He nodded in agreement, clenching his robotic teeth to keep himself from abandoning the whole impromptu plan entirely.

“It is quite alright,” Rando replied, his smile turning into one of genuine appreciation. He then slipped out of his chair, beginning to walk towards the door. “Now, if you can come with me, I shall lead you to your ship at the Docks.”

There was just silence as the fox moved towards the door. He then looked back towards the duo. They’re just sitting there. Why aren’t they moving?

What perhaps most disturbed him, though, was the look of shock and uncertainty on Dustin’s face as soon as he had finished speaking. The others remained stoic, but the very fact that neither were making an attempt to move at all made his fur stand on end.

Inside the facade of coldness and emotionless attitude that was Wright’s outward appearance, however, was a boiler of hot, fiery anger. The only thing that kept him from ending he charade right then and there was one thought: What ship?

He whispered to the Captain. “This guy is stinking to high heaven. Why would he lead us out?”

They’re whispering… the fox gave thought to as he studied them. He gritted his teeth, cursing his lack of rabbit’s ears. A rabbit would have no problem eavesdropping on what they were saying. They were plotting, and right in front of him too! They were still planning on continuing their investigation, that much was obvious, but in the past, the representatives were upfront and honest about it. They made their intentions clear as day. This duo, however, did not. What were they trying to hide?

He guessed it. “You… DO have a ship, right?”

All talking ceased. The cyborg turned towards the fox against the Captain’s wishes and walked towards the vulpine. Similarly, the Mayor began to march, paws clenched and claws beginning to extend out from the spaces in between his fingers. His bodyguard, having watched the whole affair from the corner, tightened every muscle in his body, waiting.

“I’m asking you a question, human.”

“Here’s your answer.”

The terminator reached into his coat and whipped out a massive shotgun. He took aim at the fox and pulled the trigger.

——

While Marcus was certainly strong, and the construction of his form as well as the general nature of who he was was a mark of what he can take, there was a flaw.

A robotic organism was still a robot, and regardless of reaction time and how it was, something could go amiss.

He didn’t know if it was from rage or something else, but for the briefest of moments, his movement was jerky and uncooperative. When he fired, the mayor had already sprung off to the side, leaving a massive hole in the floor where he used to stand.

He pivoted, his gun trained on the fox like a hunter during season. The mayor leaped again, avoiding another shot.

Just then, he heard an inhuman wail erupt from the door. Everyone turned their heads.

The bodyguard’s mouth was open. Banshee-like screams and shrieks emerged from the inner recesses his throat as he continuously banged against the door. His sword slashed against the door; wood splintered off from the base. Eventually, a piece fell away, revealing the red-skinned brute from before just outside, blade unsheathed and poised to strike. With one cut, he sliced it across the glass containing the newspaper clippings.

A loud, unnerving CRACK filled the air.

Soon, the whole building shook with the sound of the Rando Army’s screams. Doors opened from outside the Mayor’s office. Men with guns, knives, swords, and clubs, all descended upon the office.

Before the door burst open, wood peppering the floor like shrapnel from a grenade, only one word escaped the cyborg’s lips.

“Fuck.”

————

War Season

Marlin stood glued to the floor, fresh stains around his pants. He probably would have remained where he was the whole time if not for the orange-furred mammal slamming him to the floor just as the Rando Army smashed their way in.

“Stay down!” he ordered, holding the old man down to keep him from moving.

He did what he was told.

Another shotgun blast marked the proper start of the battle. The brute that had tore off a bit of the door a few seconds earlier flew back into the wall. Blood spewed from his chest and painted the floor. He slumped down to the ground.

His gun light, he fished for some ammo inside his pockets. He didn’t get the chance. A soldier charge right at him, club raised. He lifted up his gun, blocking the strike just before it careened into his head. He gave the man a swift kick to the shin. The man only winced in pain, continuing to assault the terminator.

He felt a whoosh of wind fly past him. The red, white, and blue shield of Captain America flew right past him and smashed into the skull of a knife-wielding militiaman. He fell down, dazed. The brief distraction, however, was all Marcus needed to push the clubber down to the ground.

As his assailant fell, however, several musket-men stepped up in a line, blocking the way out. They raised their weapons and fired at him.

Captain America, having already punched the knife-wielder into submission before he got back up, glanced towards the cyborg as he desperately tried to load in more slugs into his shotgun. With a grunt, he picked up his shield, ran in front of the former criminal, and in one swift motion, held it out in front of the both of them.

A series of metallic clangs signified the bullets smashing right into his vibranium shield. The gunmen separated, their faces literally glowing with rage, as more troopers piled in.

“We got this, kid,” said the Captain, a smirk on his face as they both met them head on.

Cap faced the melee fighters first. He raised his shield to block several clubs from hitting him. He glanced around. He saw one with a sword try to sneak around him. He smoothly elbowed him in the jaw. He then swung his shield around, knocking away some weapons out of some of the soldier’s hands. Despite their drug-possessed minds, he was not going to kill them if he could help it. Instead, he would settle for trying to keep them from entering the tiny room they were in.

Marcus pumped his gun. He remained a few feet behind the captain, allowing him to the fighters on with his melee expertise. He saw one of the gunmen draw a pistol from their coat, aiming it at the star-spangled soldier’s back. With a grunt, he took aim and fired. The gunman fell and blood spattered from the stump where his hand should have been. Two more blasts ended the other two gunmen’s lives. A smirk crossed the terminators face; things were going well for them.

“Dangit!” shouted the Captain. The cyborg turned to him. His robotic eyes widened as he saw his leader slowly slid back from the sheer amount of people he had to keep back. More and more and more troopers entered into the fray; it was like the entire city had been called to arms to stop them.

The robot holstered his gun; there were simply too many soldiers for him to be able to reload his gun in time to kill them all. He joined the melee.

Captain America grit his teeth as he slammed his shield into the torso of another blade-bearer. He looked around. It only took him a second to realize he had been encircled. He called out for Marcus’s assistance, only to discover that, like him, he was surrounded and cut off from him.

A club smashed into his back from behind. He turned his shield around to block another strike, leaving him open to a sudden thrust from one brute with a knife. The knife stabbed into his elbow. He cringed, lifting his elbow to careen it into the almost literal backstabber’s face. He managed to block another sword before he saw an opening. He took the chance, slamming his fist into one of the unarmed brutes.

The brute caught his fist with one hand. He began to twist it, and no matter how hard the superhero tried, he could not free his arm. The other soldiers took the opportunity to unleash hell on the patriotic hero, stabbing, slashing, and beating him with everything they had. The Captain could only put up a mild amount of resistance with his shield as their attacks overwhelmed him.

After an agonizingly slow few moments, the unarmed brute promptly crashed his fist into his stomach and pushed him to the ground, using his twisted arm as leverage. He tried to lift his shield up for some kind, any kind, of attack to get him off of the ground and into a position of power. All hopes of that were dashed as soon as the shield was pulled right out from his hands. He felt his breath taken away from him as an innumerable amount of men piled onto him.

Every part of his body hurt. From the bleeding gashes, to the bruises, to the red-skinned, drug-addled brutes whirling him around so that his stomach was on the ground, and the painful way in which they twisted his arms behind his back and held him down. The floorboards reeked of blood, sweat, and dust as he breathed, trying to regain his strength.

He looked up and to the side. Marcus was right next to him, and he wasn’t in any better of shape. He had been completely sliced up with swords and knives, as there were massive wounds all over his body. Perhaps the worst one was the one along his shoulder; a huge chunk of it was completely gone. Yet even then, the cyborg kept trying to get back up as he wriggled underneath the Rando Army’s grip.

He couldn’t muster the energy to say anything to the kid. Instead, he looked towards the desk as the fox walked out from under it. His head was lowered, but underneath the darkness of his fishing hat, his eyes… they were different. He couldn’t exactly tell HOW they were, but something had changed. He was willing to bet it was the shape, as it looked like he was staring into the eyes of a true animal.

“So this is what you are…” the mammalian said, snapping his fingers. One of his officers stepped up and handed him a small cane. The fox kept his voice low and quiet.

“You aren’t with the Empire. You aren’t with them, yet you still decided to come here…”

The Captain had no idea what the heck the vulpine was saying. Before he could speak, however, the fox whacked him in the jaw with the cane. He spat out a tooth.

“You come here…” Whack. “You kill my men.” Whack. “You disturb the peace!” Whack!  “And you TRY TO RUIN ME!”

WHACK!

By the time the Mayor had stopped, the Captain’s face was nothing more than a purple and black, bloody, swollen mess of a thing. It looked nothing at all like the pristine and golden looks befitting of a superhero anymore. It looked just like a beat up carcass.

Marcus was having none of it. He almost got off of the ground, his hands yearning to tear the arrogant, psychopathic canine apart piece by piece. Before he could, though, one of the soldiers picked up the Captain’s shield and rammed it into his head. The sheer force of the blow caused the sensors in his eyes to create red static in his vision.

Meanwhile, the fox had lifted the Captain’s face off of the ground, claws digging into his flesh.

“You sent you? Who ELSE wants to see me gone?! Tell me!”

He lifted the cane.

“I-It was me…” his former law adviser said as he stood up from behind the desk, hands raised and vibrating.

———————————

Time seemed to stop for the Mayor. The nervous stutters of the old man filled his ears. His amber eyes shifted and widened within the shadows of his fishing hat. Every part of his mind was screaming at him.

No! No, this can’t be true! Marlin wouldn’t-

“You don’t need to pity them, Marlin…” he said, making sure absolutely no one in the room could see his face, “they don’t deserve pity.”

Yes, that’s it! It’s pity. He pities them.

“I-I would never lie to you, Nicholas. I sent them the telegraph. I brought them here.”

His eyes twitched. He could feel his paws begin to shake. It just wasn’t possible. He turned his head up towards the porcelain mask over the fireplace.

No. He’s lying! Not after all this time! He couldn’t have done this!

“Marlin, please, you know I don’t get jokes easily,” he said, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. He tried to drown everything out. He had to concentrate on what he knew was true.

The old writer paused and bit his lip. He looked at the two beaten and battered heroes. He took a deep, nervous breath. I hope I’m not making a mistake…

“You saw a bird, didn’t you? A raven that floated into the sky? Just an hour ago?”

The mayor said nothing, but his shaking and his ears lowered meant that, despite his attempts, he was listening.

“That bird carried a message. A message to a group called The Avengers, asking for the aid in liberating this city from what you’ve done to it, sir,” he said, his voice steady, “they sneaked in and disguised themselves and met me in Rhydu’s shop, where I told them about the Sugarcane and what it does. It was going to tell them more when you showed up.”

The mayor said nothing.

Marlin spoke again. “Sir, it was me. I even have a copy to prove it.”

The mayor still said nothing. His shoulders were scrunched up, and he could hear the faintest whimpers emerging from his throat. No one in the room could see his face, but Dustin could easily imagine what he looked like. He had seen him do this time after time in the past to others he did not trust. Only Dustin could create an accurate image of how he looked in despair.

Finally, Nicholas whispered.

“Arrest them. Take them to the prison. I need a few minutes…”

————

The prison itself did not hold the glamour nor the happiness the outside city displayed as a facade. Instead, it was nothing more than simply a monstrous place of punishment. Or, in the trio’s case, a coffin.

It was practically a coffin, anyway. The only source of air was a small hole high up along the concrete wall of their cell. The cell itself was suffocating in size, too, as it was only big enough for the three of them to lie down in an uncomfortable manner. The door to their holding place was locked and barred by massive steel bars. Marcus had already tried to escape by folding the bars or snapping them off, but a red-skinned brute with a spear had jabbed him back to the other side. For all intents and purposes, they were disarmed, wounds barely treated, and effectively trapped.

Marlin could only sit down, trying to conserve his oxygen, and refused to look at the others. Through his actions, he had doomed them to a life of servitude to the maniacal fox. He didn’t know what made him think what he had done was a good idea. He should have kept quiet. At least if he had been quiet, instead of taking the fall for them both to keep them from additional beatings, he could’ve…

He didn’t really know what he could’ve done.

After a few minutes, another Rando Army soldier showed up at the cell. He rapped against the bars.

“The Mayor wants a word with you, Dustin.”

Without a word, he stood up, avoiding the gaze of the two Avengers, and walked with the soldier to the Mayor.