Despatche #009

Day 4,351, 16:36 Published in Switzerland Japan by Violence Seth




X.1 Oliver "Papa" Murphy, M.V Moray Mist, Korp Shipping

The Gray Rooms, Buenos Aires, Argentina, Day XXXX

"I'm not sure what you're asking of me señor. How doe's it work?" asked the barman, Lucas. I drained my gin and chewed the ice. I set the glass upside down. He wanted me to think he was frightened of me. "Just flick the switch on and leave it nearby when he comes. Make sure it's hidden but don't muffle the microphone." He poured me another drink. "So, you'll do this for me?" I slipped him a months wages as he placed another gin and ice before me. The lithe young barman had bright, expressive eyes, his black hair was combed back ridiculously neat with the conditioning shampoo littering the stale, musty bathrooms of this odd, secret hotel. He smelt like a woman's handbag left in the sun too long. I'd a dreadful urge to vomit. I was land-sick. I lay my head on the cool bar top. "Of course Capitán. Can I get you some water perhaps?" That little knave, I'd a gut feeling he was with either the Quetzales or Despontars and he wasn't doing much to convince me otherwise. I'd been Scopo'ed before and was lucky to escape. "Something to ease the nerves?" His voice had altered, a slightest of pitch elevation. Sounded like he'd been caught. The poor kid must have only been in his twenties and already tied up with that crowd of false princes and dukes of nothing and nowhere. Sure I'd a bakers dozen, no rather a whole f*ckin' bakery's worth of mortal enemies not to mention their sons and daughters, probably even grandchildren by now... all of them out there ravenous and out to get me. So I'm no one to judge him, a man has to make a living. I sat up straight, patting down my navy wool Geansaí Árann. I stroked my beard. Young Lucas shrunk from my gaze. I felt my temples, then beneath my neck. "No, just have the device nearby niño and don't look him in the eyes. He'll know." Lucas looked worried. If this was really some sort of interception ploy he had not come prepared. "Just be ready when he comes. Felicidades, Salud agus is é do bhrath do bhás" I raised my drink with a nod. He smiled weakly and returned back to his work.

He walked into the bar like he'd a stick up his rear. He cut through all the well dressed upper class Civs and minor Argentine M.U Commanders, all of them ruminating on fine food and foul gossip. "That's Capitán Papa, such nerve, call the policía" and the like. I was getting too old to be bothered. In my younger years I'd have uplifted the place, painted it red. I couldn't be arsed anymore. He stood at the bar beside me, brave enough... no fearless. I was half cut, having been drinking all afternoon. I patted my gun and mentally mapped my way back to the port. My first mate Goldy and my ship, the Moray Mist was set to go, go tapa. "Buenas tardes, Capitán." he said with the loveless smile I'd learned over the years to notice. He wasn't, I mean, he couldn't be real. He was putting aul rogues like me out of business. "Make this quick Doppler, I don't like being on land too long." He smirked and took a seat beside me. To a layman he would seem friendly, almost charming.

I suppose I've seen worse. The background was a blur of tight suits and glittering dresses. The crowd bolstered up their presence with phony laughter and trite boasting, all against the sad banality of their own naked presence in this dreary, gilded cage they occupied. Doppler however was entirely present. I was fairly hammered, his face was a blur. "This may seem like an odd request but I'm looking to by land in Ireland. Your land Papa to be precise." he asked with that same nothing of a smile. "I'm not here to exchange jokes. I thought you wanted guns?" I asked with a sigh, stroking my beard. "No Capitán. I've no use for guns at the moment. I need land." he said, winking like it was his first time trying. Oh Christ I was too drunk for this shite. "Okay then, I've land to sell. 5,000,000cc for the acreage. You may have to bulldoze a church." I said, winking properly. He seized up. The drone of empty suits and dresses buzzed and the room twisted around him, standing there in his light grey suit. I felt sick again. That little sh*t "Lucas" better not have Scopo'ed me. This is entirely the reason I hate staying on land too long. There's no pretense on the high sea and scheming is just a fancy way of going for your last, frigid swim with the sharks. He took out a geneSCRIBE. That woke me up. Holy Jayzuz, I should have went higher. "I'll give you 1,000,000cc right here and now Papa. Tell me where is this land you're selling to me?" I drained the last of my gin and placed the glass upside down and wrapped on the bar for Lucas to bring another. "Skibbereen." His eyes seemed to light up. "5,000,000cc plus that million offer you insulted me with." He smiled as best a creature like him could. "We have a deal Mr. Murphy."

He handed me the cheque. More money than a man could dream of spending. Doppler marched out of the room rather jarringly, almost liquid with confidence, slipping through the crowd like a phantom. "Do you need the device Capitán?" asked young Lucas. "Nah, keep it Lucas, it could be worth a fortune in time. Buenas noches." He looked confused. I dropped 5,000cc out of my pocket and pushed it across the bar. "Dios mío! Gracias señor! Are you sure about this?" What was intended to be a nod turned into a bow. Christ above, I was minced drunk. "That's for not ratting me out Lucas. I know you know who I am. I bet you knew my acquaintance too. Hold on to that recorder and keep it well hidden. Adiós." He smiled an adult smile. I pulled on my long canvas coat and stood up from my bar-stool, barging through the posh crowd towards the stairs and outside, my hand resting on my pistol and the impossibly valuable cheque. The streets were empty, tidy. I whistled a drunken, improvised tune through the clear night air walking down the gas-lamp lit streets towards Isla Macael and my ship the Moray Mist.





2.9 Ceannasaí Jack Moore, Dublin Brigade, Rasa Blank

The Foxes Covert was packed as evening set in. Graham had set the stage, his aul banjacked Guitar set on a stand he'd made himself. I found him in our boarding room. He was shaving in the mirror, wearing his Sunday best. "Full house tonight?" he asked, seeing me enter in the reflection of the cloudy mirror. He'd a basin of hot water on a stand. He rinsed his shaving blade and then splashed me with his fingers. "'Sake Graham, what has you so genial. You're usually sh*ttin' yerself before playing a set. Did you walk up the crossroads, make a deal with the devil to make you halfway decent on the guitar?"

He ignored me, toweling off the soap on his neck and behind his ears. "Nope. I have an admirer Jackie, says she's coming to see us play then she wants to have a few drinks at hers afterwards." He handed me a wax sealed letter. It smelt like lavender. I hopped atop my bunk to read it as Graham admired himself. "Can I use your Cologne Jack?" I nodded. First time he'd asked, the bottle was half empty. I hadn't seen him this chirpy since... well I'd never seen him like this ever. He'd never had any luck with the fairer sex. He was so small and thin. He shouldn't have shaved, he looked like a twelve year old. I browsed through the letter. The handwriting was exquisite. Nothing sordid really, just like he said except worded with a keener elegance. She must have been some kind of woman. "She an older gal Skimp?" He shook his head, trying on yet another tie. "No idea, I guess it's a surprise." Finally he stood, arms outstretched. "So! How do I look?" I gave him a thumbs up. He looked like he was about to make his first Communion.

X.2 Lady Kana Kodama, The Foxes Covert

Sometimes when I heard Jackie play his violin I'd close my eyes and think of home. Even though he was playing old Irish traditional music and to me most of it all sounded the same, Jackie could lengthen a phrase of music with such emotion I felt connected both to him and the home I lost. I'd find my minds eye resting in a hidden place where I felt safety and comfort. That night Jackie played what he told me was the Night Visiting Song with Graham all tidied up, keeping a somber rhythm to his heartbreaking aria. I was sitting on a Finnish Soldiers lap. The Matron looked at me with disappointment. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around this strange man and pretended it was Jackie.

The bar was heaving with laughter and conversation and soon an even stranger man asked me to dance. Jackie and Graham where sweating by now as the lively music had everyone dancing so I didn't think to refuse him. The other man was outraged but the Matron had him cornered before he could even begin to argue. This new, stranger man smelt like lavender. We danced to a looping reel that Jackie set alight each turn; faster, more dexterous and wilder each time. My eyes finally met the new strangers eyes for the first time and it soon seemed like the background had become an illusion. "You are very far from home." he whispered, like he'd plucked the thought out of my head. "Why is that?" I felt sick. "I came with the... I came with the Japanese Military. I didn't leave with them because... This is my home now." The heat of the room had me feeling faint. He smiled but it seemed like an impression of a smile.

"We're gonna take a short break ladies and gentlemen. If you have time we're raising funds to rebuild the local Church. Don't be stingy, if you have money to spare, put it in the box over there." Jackie swished his bow towards the locked box near the foot of the stage. The rapturous round of applause, cheers and wolf whistles almost deafened me. I was so caught up in Jackie I didn't notice the odd man leaving. Alone again. I went upstairs to retreat into the bed-sheets and dream of the wild woodland that Jackie had made in my mind and to clutch to the faint, warm memory of the home I'd lost and the love I hoped to one day share.

3.0 Mícheál Ruairí "Silent Fox" O'Malley, White Stag Unit, Rasa Blank

Young Skimpy had been eviscerated, disemboweled and had his face peeled off when I found him. He was hung for display in the centre of the Silver Birches. There was a letter stapled to his hand. It just read "Monolith. Follow" in a range of different handwriting styles. At the end of the letter was the Eagles Freedom sigil. I could count on my hands the number of people that had that branded tattoo and most were now dead, at least from what I can remember. He was a good lad Graham, he didn't deserve to go out that way, there are very few who do to be honest. But his killer is one of them.

Earlier, after myself and Sarah had finished cleaning up the bar, Jackie came downstairs asking for Graham. He told us he had an admirer and was curious to see who that admirer was and if either of us had seen him leave with her. We hadn't. Sarah became suspicious and woke up Kana to ask if she knew anything. Drugged up on Type 4's she seemed like no help at all until she mentioned lavender. She told us one of the Finnish soldiers smelt distinctly of it.

I ordered Jackie to stay behind, to keep guard over Sarah, Kana and the children. I took my gun to go out and investigate. Lavender grew near the ruins of St. Patricks and the nearby Silver Birches. I cut him down as soon as I saw him, dangling in the moonlight. I couldn't even close the poor kids eyes, that monster had peeled off his face. I covered him with my jacket for the sake of decency. I felt like roaring, despite not having a voice. I knew the killer may still have been nearby. In fact I was sure he was. He was looking right at me but I couldn't see through the murk of the skeletal tree branches.

When I returned I couldn't tell them in detail, not being able to talk and all, a small mercy. I'd a responsibility to keep my family safe and also my wards, Jackie and Kana. After Jackie had calmed down enough not to wake the whole town up, I brought him to the site but by then the body was gone. A note was placed carefully above the blood drenched canvas of leaves. Again, Monolith. Follow, in perfect cursive. Jackie roared for me, dropping to his knees in rage and anguish.

We returned to the Covert. Sarah understood I'd to go and embraced me, gently sobbing. I kissed her teary cheek as I went to check on the children. Thomás and Erin where still fast asleep but Ciarán was sitting upright in bed. I motioned him to get back to sleep and then I tucked him in. He whispered in my ear, "A man scared me this morning." I gave him a warm smile. I shook my head as if to dissolve any fear. My fear loomed over me. The killer had talked to my son. "He told me to say Papa sold the Silver Birches. It didn't make any sense." I felt a fathomless dread. "He scared me Da, I can't sleep." I kissed his forehead and held him tight. I motioned again for him to sleep and pointed to my heart then to him. He did the same. Erin was beginning to stir so I placed a finger over my lips. He nodded and closed his eyes. I closed the bedroom door as carefully as I could. I felt a tear shake loose.

Sarah made arrangements to pack and stay in the Joyce Country with her relatives while I was gone. I gave herself and Kana two pistols and a box of clips. They'd need to leave as soon as I was away. Jackie had convinced me that he'd be more useful as my translator and that Sarah, Kana and the children would be safe up there as long as they kept moving. We'd make contact with Liberty Hall by proxy in Cork to avoid anyone tailing us and we'd go by horseback, avoiding the roads. MacGillicuddy's horses would do so we took them for our departure, leaving their value in double atop a barrel in their stables about two miles north of the town. Jackie and I saddled and mounted outside the Foxes Covert at the break of dawn and away did go.





Thank you for reading! So this is the last season...
Started back in Day 4,083
Thanks to everyone who has followed our tale this far.

Go raibh maith agat!

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The Whole Series: Seasons 1 - 4