Siren Song to a Salty Sailor (Diana OCEAN recruitment)

Diana's vacation in her home country continued as she followed every rumor of trouble outside the major population centers. She'd been island hopping, not to difficult with money, training by day and hanging around tourist-trap resorts by night.

Local news was reporting a flux of pirate activity in waters around the remote islands. Fishermen, navy boats and foreigners were being kidnapped in droves by pirate bands and held for ransom. A couple of weeks passed with little trouble beyond the small time crime, which were resolved with a well-placed shuriken toss.

Diana was becoming restless. Tonight like most nights, there was another beach side rave with tons of foreign guests and rich kids, and she waited to see if the presence of so many targets would entice the pirates.

Diana got herself a nice seat and a view of the party, blending in by dressing up in swimwear, a beach robe and flip-flops. The lights were so dim and the drinks free flowing, no one questioned the presence of a katana leaning against the counter. She helped herself to a fruity cocktail (being 18 now whoo) and waited.

= = = =

The beach rave party proved a pretty beacon for the arriving speed boats of armed pirates, who used the cover of night to approach the beach uncontested. They put on their black ski masks and start loading magazines, the satisfying gun noises and clicks.

Their lead man was an older fellow, scarred and pockmarked skin with a grim determination to his face. His graying hair was long and his beard manly.

"...It's almost time. Remember, Whites and rich kids, don't waste time with locals and don't shoot unless someone resists. Even then, just shoot them in the leg." The figurative leader reminds his crew in the local vernacular, shooting the trigger happy raiders harsh glances. Kidnapping was a business, and they wanted as little overhead as possible.

Scott was feeling nothing if not discouraged at the moment. He had spent days in the ruins of what had once been his home, OCEAN. The place lay in total shambles, having been destroyed not once but twice. The surrounding jungle, twisted by the horrid abyssal energies of Sean the betrayer had done more than their fair share to reclaim what little was left. When he had arrived at the location at first he wasn't sure if he was even in the right place. The jungle had grown so impossibly thick that he had barely recognized the plot of land that the once proud organization had rested on. Now there was next to nothing left. All manner of bizarre energies sparked from the half active future tech that Sai had brought with her and left behind in her disappearance.

To Redline's joy he had once more found Xeonix, Sai's compatriot and central controller of all that had once been the high tech base. The bird like construct had rested in scraps at the heart of the base, functioning on what little reserve battery he had left. That was the good part. Unfortunately he had sustained far to much damage to be salvaged, at least by Redline. The more creature was little more than a pile of scraps clinging desperately to its last threads of life. But Scott could not let it die, no, this was his final connection to what had once been his family. OCEAN were the first people he had truly trusted in a long time and Xeonix was all that was left of that.

Mustering all of the minimal technical knowledge he had Scott spent days trying what he could to repair the construct. By the third day he had achieved little other than to keep the thing alive on a steady supply of power from the last remaining generator. It wasn't much, but it would preserve Xeonix until he could enlist the help of someone far more technologically skilled than himself.

But that single task had completely drained Scott. He was after all only a single man. Just as in his first days in the organization he was realizing just how little there was that he could do when on his own. Frustrated and wound tight Scott did the one thing he could think to do. Packing his costume into a backpack he had bought at some stand in the airport, he donned more civilian clothes, a pair of torn up jeans some touristy shirt far too expensive for its make and an oxygen tank dragging behind his darkly tanned and scarred body and headed off into the city. More specifically he was headed for the coast. In all his time in California Scott had never taken the time to actually enjoy the beach. Now that he was here in a foreign country seemed as good a time as any.

And so Scott found himself in the all to familiar scene of a raging nighttime party. Bodies writhed around him on the sand and alcohol and drugs passed hands freely among the crowd. But unlike in his past Scott now could not have felt more out of place. These people were caught up in the pleasures of their flesh and the naivete of their youth. The environment did little to relieve his already shot nerves, instead making him feel even more ill at ease. And so Scott made his way past the crowds and out more towards quiet ocean hoping to find something a bit more peaceful in the ebb and flow of the tides.

"Hey hey hey, party peeooooppllle...! Next song we got a a special guest to serenade all the lovely young couplessss.... Give it up. For. Sereeenaaaa..." The DJ on stage introduced a performer arriving, and eyes fell on her immediately.

Diana's attention was only rarely taken by the musical types. But there was something about this Serena, the loose dress, the long wild hair, the looks.

"This song... is for all the singles, and all the broken hearted..." She said, speaking gently into the microphone. She begins playing a melody on the keyboard, and sings about lost love.

When the melody began to play, only then did Diana realize the nature of this singer, and danger she and the people at the concert were in. She reaches for her sword but alas her mind was quickly muddled, the sweet honeyed words disarming her, the song floating through the crowd and throughout the beach.

Diana sat there in complete fascination, as did the other people in the crowd. So fascinated in fact, they did not react to the arrival of a large group of armed pirates landing on the beach.

Strolling aimlessly across the sand and spray Scott found himself unsure of himself, unsure of what his next move should be. Just up the beach he could hear the party continue, the mood dropping to a calmer tone as it seemed a new singer would take the stage. The people up there were careless belligerent fools. Thinking back on his days of debauchery he saw nothing but waste and saw the same in the mob above surrounded by lights and sound. And yet, as the tune from the new singer reached his ears, he felt felt a gentle calm wash over his body. It was like the sweet music was reaching inside him and plucking out every care and every worry. The sense of relief, of weightlessness was so foreign to Scott that he nearly began to giggle at the sensation.

Somewhere, buried deep in the back of his head a small voice was screaming, begging him to understand the signals that his eyes were sending to his brain as a wave of ships came washing ashore and began unloaded their plundering cargo. But that voice was soon drowned out by the sweet music filling him with serene bliss. Even as the pirates came approaching him e did not care. Scott was sky high and under the sway of the that oh so beautiful voice.

"Mga Agimat!" Their grey-bearded pirate leader shouted as the machete and AK wielding pirates stepped off their rickety boats, and onto the beach. The men pull out some strange stones tied to strings from their ragged pockets and wear them; their purpose was easily deduced once the abductions began.

"Aaaah! No let me go!" They ganged up on rich looking targets, as well as any armed security. The haze of the sirens' spell was broken abruptly in proximity of the pirates, but by then it was too late- hands tied, black sacks over the head, surrounded by armed men, resistance proved futile.

The grey-bearded leader was no armchair general, either. Alongside his men, some merely boys, he secured captives like any other. He came upon Scott, and seeing the larger man took no chances and attempted to strike him hard on the jaw with a heavy fist before the spell broke. The other pirates stood by to tie him down and bag him, before he could offer resistance. A man with an assault rifle stood by if he did.

Diana too was also pegged as a valuable captive, but the pirates did not expect her to offer resistance, having missed her sword in the corner. When the stones came into view, the spell was already being undone by Diana's sharper mind. "Ui, gwapa ani oh, murag taga Manila... (Hey, she's a pretty one. She must be from Manila)" Before the pirates could think, a jaw had been dislocated by a sturdy whiskey bottle, and another face was flattened by the same bottle thrown as a bludgeoning projectile. But they were already too many and too close, and two burly men in shorts and tank tops had tackled Diana.

The grey-bearded leader came over, looking at the fighting spirit in Diana's eyes, even as she was tied up. "...Ayg mo kumpyansa! (Don't underestimate anyone!)" He shouted. He then claimed the nearby Katana as a trophy, wondering what a teenage girl was doing carrying a sword. He placed in his own sash, claiming it as a spoil of the raid.

Once all the resistance was put down, and the captives chosen, it was back to the ships with the pirates. The captives all the while protested and pleaded, though any question was met with "SHUT UP YOU WANNA DIE?" In broken english, as well as assault rifles prodded to the chest.