Fusion and Iron

23. The Battle for Mandark's Ship

The serene scene of the vast, still ocean was bright. The heavens had been dotted with bundles of puffy white clouds. Lazily they drifted across the horizon, casting long shadows over the sea beneath. The water itself glittered like gold under a steamy noon sun, creating a natural canvas.

A lone S.C.A.M.P.E.R. trailed through the heavens at a rapid pace. Painted in a distinctive combination of red, white, and black, the vehicle left a faint trail behind it, a wake of turbulence and exhaust. The wings, broad and sturdy, held steady against the wind, while the powerful engines at the rear emitted a low, steady hum. The trail it left behind was like a silken gray ribbon, dragging a gray marker across a blue oil painting.

Stretched out across nearly a dozen boxes, Niles' eyes were protected by his sunglasses. The side cargo door had been pulled entirely open, a gust of wind seeping into it. His hair was a wild mess, though his body didn't move an inch. His heavy suit had been sprawled out over these crates like it was a wood plank bed, a lazy throne to lounge on. The rhythmic hum of the engines and the occasional creak of the cargo provided a soothing soundtrack to the journey, giving his troubled mind a moment to ease itself from his stressful past.

Rarely, did his suit plating switch to recharge. Instead of the usual red, black, and white dynamo colors, he shimmered like a bright glass lamp. The solar panels were taking in every ounce of sun it could get, rays peeking through the door. Stretched out over his wrist, a tiny lime-green battery line was slowly filling up. He was nearly at his maximum power, indicating just how long this trip was.

The S.C.A.M.P.E.R. sliced through the air, its destination rapidly approaching: the Forsaken Valley. The pilot, focused on the controls, occasionally glanced back at Niles. It was a one-way ticket, and the only rider happened to be a bizarre guy like him. A man in a prismatically bright suit with the nano of Alien X riding with him? He didn't question it too much, since the pay was more than he usually was compensated with.

In the distance, the jungle stretched for miles. The individual outlines of trees and dense undergrowth could be seen, overall healthy. Instead of its scrawny remnants in the future, it was luscious and full of life. The Forsaken Valley itself was framed by a pristine beach, the waves delicately crashing onto the soft, white sand. An immense shadow could be seen hiding the crevices in plain sight, as an enormous presence loomed overhead.

Mandark's ship was a sight to behold, perhaps one of man's greatest inventions. It was massive, nearly a structure in the sky, decked out with high-tech weaponry. Shielded by several layers of dark metal plating, it came off as a thick slab of jet iron. For nearly miles on end, you could hear the deep vibrations of its various engines slightly shaking the ground underneath. Just as his signature style, pulsing red lines and lights made it an obnoxious lighthouse to a storm of rainforests. It was somewhat foreboding, though imposing for a reason.

The top deck kept busy with an array of both personnel and machinery. The primary workers for this region were Mandark's bots (or Mandroids for short), known simply for their sleek black frames and intimidating red eyes. They were efficient on their little treads, zipping away to perform various maintenance tasks on the expansive deck. To the captain, they were the crew of a mighty ship: the number one bulwark to Fuse's front line. Joined among them were agents from various factions: Providence agents in their distinct black and white uniforms, Plumber agents blinged out with their high-tech gear, a few independent mercenaries, and both just Kids Next Door operatives and earth's forces in the fray.

Nearly a dozen tanks were lined up in neat rows, also crafted by Mandark Industries. In the same coats of black paint, and flashing red lights, these war machines were kept in a pristine condition. Instead of treads, thanks to Mandark's genius, they hovered. Not stopped by any rugged terrain but by walls, they could be left to roam for hours on end if need be. Beside them, massive tanks of oil waited to be fed into these if need be, always on standby if the situation was dire. On the other side, several dozen battle bots stood ready. Tall, slender, and graceful, any moment they could be deployed. They all were hunched over, their internal lights and engine shut off.