Authors: Matt Stephens
Yasi glanced up, seeing people coming to the Chamber entrances all over the Level, listening to his voice. It was a good tactic making the whole thing known to the public.
"Well, I know for a fact that you can't stay alive forever. You try and exit through the River, my allies will stop you. You try to escape any other way, my own warriors will stop you. Your greenhouse is my territory, and we found a lot of your stores in the ruins of the Throne Room. You can't hold out for long. I can hold out indefinitely. And if you think I won't starve every last one of you; you're wrong."
Yasi glanced up again. The Lostkind were looking to her now. Vandark would do it; she knew he would. Time was on his side. If he waited a few days, a few weeks, a few months...
"Idiot!" She whispered at herself in outrage. "You should have had all the stores down here, but no; you were so sure you'd be able to hold them at the Throne Room."
"Yasi, you're the only one left. Archivist had to choose between himself and the History of this place; Keeper had to choose between herself and her kids... You're the only one left. If the fight goes on; you might even win. It's over; because I have decided it's over. All that's left is to pick the winner." He paused, his tone became richer, grander; like he was giving some inspiring speech. "We are the Generals. We are the Warriors. We're not that different, when it comes right down to it. We could decide the whole war, right here; or we could wait, bluff it out, drag dozens of people we care about into it with us."
Yasi looked to her Warriors. They returned her gaze evenly, shaking their heads. They knew he was baiting her, and didn't want her to go for it.
"Admit it Yasi, if either of us dies, our team falls with us. Who's going to lead them if you fall? And who will continue the fight for me if I am dead? We can settle this, right now. You and me. All you have to do is let me open the door."
Yasi turned her gaze the other direction, at her fallen Shinobi, wounded or dead; laid out in neat rows on the huge stone and concrete Steps. The Lostkind all looked to her from above, holding their breath, waiting for her reaction.
"Admit it Shinobi; it's the way you'd really prefer it to be. You against me, nobody else involved, nobody else gets hurt; with everything we want as the prize." Vandark said, the eagerness in his voice was clear.
Yasi walked, in no particular hurry, toward the telephone on the wall.
"And you want to see who'll win as badly as I do." Vandark added; coming to the end of his story.
Yasi lifted the phone. "Hello?"
Vandark's voice responded, her phone already connected to the Whisper Gallery. "I'm here."
Yasi spoke. "I want to find out too." She growled into the phone. "Come and get me."
~oo00oo~
Vincent's key was enough to get them into the City Planner's Office, even at that late hour. "We'll do it here!" He declared as he strode into the Archives Room, Connie and Gill flanking him.
Everyone started clearing a space, when Vincent suddenly noticed there was a message waiting in the pneumatic tube. He sent a glance over at everyone, and collected it.
V--
This will be the last message I send before I disable the tubes, so if you get something new; either we've won; the bad guys sent it.
Tecca knew when the attack was coming, so I sent him up to you.
Understand?
--Y
PS: Merlin is a finicky eater, you gotta give him good stuff. Wish us luck.
Connie came over. "What's that?"
Vincent crumpled the message instantly. "Nothing I didn't already know."
"Here's what I don't get." Gill called over to them. "Your whole plan is dependent on going back to the Underside, right?"
"Right." Vincent confirmed.
"But if Vandark took your secret list, then what does rebuilding it matter? Because if I was the bad guy, the first thing I'd do is burn the bridges behind me."
"Very likely." Vincent agreed.
"So we can tear through all these files and blueprints; but if they all lead to the Labyrinth; then we're still left with just
one
way into their Secret City. So why do we need a thousand ways in? How is that supposed to help the good guys win?"
"Who said anything about helping the good guys win?" Vincent responded innocently.
~oo00oo~
"You're going to die, doing this." Keeper rasped weakly. "You know that, right?"
"Keep, this might just be the only way to save us all. I win this... and we can mop up what's left easy. They won't fight for a dead commander."
"He knows that too." Keeper said softly. "If he starves us out, he wins. So what the hell is he thinking?"
"He's thinking that we shouldn't be left down here too long alone." Yasi reasoned. "He's thinking that he can't run New York through manipulation and man all the needed posts in the Underside with what's left of his army; so he needs us. He doesn't want us wiped out; he wants us to surrender control. He's thinking that if he doesn't win this fast, he doesn't know what happens. I'm the only way this ends quickly."
Keeper weakly raised a hand and traced a finger gently over Yasi's tribal marks. "I was the one that inked that mark into your face child. I was so scared for you that day. Proud, but scared. It's been seven years since the Lostkind were in danger. The last time, you were the one that saved the day. And now... When Archivist and I made you Captain, our great fear was that it would happen again."
"You didn't think I could handle it?"
"Oh, of course you can." Keeper scoffed. "But I'm your mother. The less Duels you fight for the fate of the City, the happier I am."
She was drifting, losing steam. Yasi pulled away. "Rest. When you wake up, we'll be safe again." She promised, and sent a glance over to her team.
The Shinobi were clearing away the rubble, opening one entrance to the Twelfth Level. Every now and then, one of them would look over at her. They knew she was their last line of defense. They were actively letting the bad guy in; just to give him a free shot at their Captain.
They gave Yasi a wide berth as she rose from Keeper's side. Not one of them wanted to intrude on her thoughts, letting her prepare her mind for what was about to happen. Yasi took her time, testing her armor, checking her sword.
When the tunnel cleared enough that both sides could see each other, her team jumped back, suspicious; expecting a sudden attack that did not come.
Yasi wasn't worried. She knew. Vandark wanted this. He wanted to be the one that won. He wanted to do it himself, and be able to say that he conquered the Underside single-handed.
The Wildmen poured through, fewer than a dozen left of them.
Our tactics worked.
Yasi thought.
Their numbers have been worn down. But with only half a dozen Shinobi left... One more fight and we would have had them; but we didn't have our stores in the right place. Stupid, Yasi, real stupid.
The Wildmen did not spread out, instead forming two rows, on either side to the tunnel. They formed two rows, stood at attention.
And then between them, emerging into the Twelfth Level, was Vandark. He wore jet black body armor, under a rich purple cloak. He wore a sword at his hip and a dagger in a sheath slung across his chest.
"Yasi." Vandark said with a grin as he spread his arms wide. "There's no need for more people to die here."
Yasi could feel a thousand eyes beating down on her from every chamber in the Dome. As much as she wanted to fight to the last man and woman... It would have been a short fight. "I agree." She said with anticipation.
Vandark grinned, filled with a dangerous energy. "Are you feeling up to it? You've been working harder than I have today."
Yasi grinned toothily. "Might just make it a fair fight for you then."
Vandark stepped forward, and cast aside his cloak.
Yasi stepped forward, and slowly drew her sword, letting him take a good long look at the gleaming curved steel.
Vandark grinned, and pulled out a gun. Yasi didn't move, as Vandark grinned cruelly; and tossed the handgun to Owen. He drew a sword of his own. A large, heavy blade; made from a thick black metal.
Yasi settled into a combat crouch, a pose that she had used often, practiced endlessly. The energy of the moment was explosive, years of training, years of exploring, years of leadership; had all boiled down to this one fight to see if it would mean a damn. The silence in the huge underground dome was hushed and powerful, the pressure great enough to crush every last one of them into silence; but Yasi was exultant, electrified, untouchable.
Vandark charged, and Yasi was more than willing to meet him halfway.
The savagery of the first attack was a surprise to everyone but Yasi. For all the damage he had dealt, for all the cunning he had shown; this was the first time the Lostkind had seen Vandark himself in combat, and it was terrifying to witness. Even Yasi barely managed to dart aside, and the blade came down more like a sledgehammer, cracking the concrete floor.
Yasi danced away on quick light steps. If it had connected, that slash would have carved her right down the middle; but she wasted no time on surprise, slashing back with her sword from his side.
Vandark blocked the blow with barely a blink; taking the strike on his gauntlet. The black metal of the arm band let loose a bright flash of sparks, and Vandark struck again.
Yasi was pure grace and speed, Vandark ruthless power and savagery. The balance between them was a terrifying dance, hanging on the verge of being a sudden slaughter, but for which side nobody knew. For every bone-crushing strike that he made, she managed to twist her body somehow, just barely enough to spare her life. For every blow that she landed against him, nothing seemed to work. She slashed and kicked and gouged and hit him with every type of attack she could think of, and he shook them off instantly.
Yasi got in closer, trying to blunt his power, give him no room to make a wide attack. Her sword was smaller and lighter, but he was able to block her attempt to cut at him. It worked, cutting off his attacks, but slowing hers too, enough that he could get a grip around her blade with his armored hand, sending it sliding away.
Yasi didn't care, practically climbing up her opponent's torso to pile-drive her fists into his face, his throat, his neck; his eyes... Every blow moved seamlessly into the next, without a wasted motion of any kind. It was an impressive display or raw speed and skill, that finished up with a spin kick that spun his head around sharply to the left. It was a flurry of lightning fast strikes that would have killed any ten Riverfolk...
And Vandark started laughing at her.
Yasi swallowed, using his shoulder as leverage to flip over him, and make a break for her sword.
Vandark grasped his scimitar with both hands and swung it in a full 360 like a baseball bat, using the wide flat of his blade rather than the edge, so it wouldn't cut; but making it too wide for her to dodge around it; slamming into her midsection. The air burst from her lungs like someone had swung a safe into her gut, and she staggered away as best she could.
Something horrifying occurred to Yasi suddenly: Vandark was going to win. He was big enough to make her look like a child, fast enough to match her, able to absorb everything she could throw at him without flinching...
And if she fell, everything she had known and loved in her entire life would fall with her.
Except she had absolutely no idea how to beat him. And looking at the sly grin on his face; he knew it too. And apparently, so did everyone else. The Wildmen were cheering, loving the show; the Lostkind were dead silent, seeing a disaster unfold.
Vandark decided he was tired of playing and sheathed his sword. He showed no concern, was in no particular hurry as she dove for her katana, coming up swinging. She put everything she had into one last attack. He had her measure now, and she had his. They had tested each other and seen where the balance of power in this contest was. She poured everything she had into one last attack; certain that she would never get another.
The long samurai blade came down, quick as a lighting strike... and Vandark caught the blade flat between the palms of his hands. The swing stopped dead in that instant; Yasi's strength nothing next to his. Vandark pushed the blade away and stuck; slamming his boot into her ribs. Yasi let out an explosive shout; feeling a grenade explode in her middle. Vandark did it again again, and she felt the stone floor jump up and slap her.
Yasi weaved, tried to get a grip on his leg. Vandark kicked her off like she was something to be scraped off the sole of his boot. And at that moment, she pretty much was.
Vandark rolled his shoulders, sending his gaze up over his audience. "Yasi." He gestured down at her grandly. "The Captain of the New York Ninja, your Warrior-Elite." He looked back down at her and laughed pityingly.
Yasi looked up blearily, head pounding, eyes rolling in opposite directions. "...s... is the fight over?"
Vandark looked down at her. "Yes." He said simply, and held a hand out to Owen, who immediately handed him that gun. He looked down at her without aiming. "Surrender."