Trouble in Paradise

[Fulgistan]

GFWFA VARINCO
"THE PROPER CHOICE"
ORDER FORM 34A: OVERSEAS, BULK
BUYER: ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
PAYMENT: MAGNAEAN CREDIT, 30,000,000
CONTENTS OF ORDER FOLLOW

 

 

VARINCO(R) AG-56 'BROWNIE': 1100
VARINCO(R) KGM-84 'PIGEON': 3500
VARINCO(R) PPP-99 'SINTER KLAAS': 6500
VARINCO(R) AFK 'FOOTBALL': 75
VARINCO(R) AGM-68 'CHILI CON CARNE': 200
VARINCO(R) LAW-90 'DOLLHOUSE': 150
VARINCO(R) G-98 FRAGMENTATION GRENADE: 2000
VARINCO(R) G-98 INCENDIARY GRENADE: 500
VARINCO(R) AFM-04 ANTIVEHICULAR MINE: 250
VARINCO (R) AMM-08 ANTI-SHIP MINE: 65
VARINCO (R) GW69 'KITTEN': 105

TO BE DELIVERED NO LATER THAN 10/31/18
BUYER REQUESTS NON-SEQUENTIAL SERIAL NUMBERS AND STANDARD VARINCO PROOF MARKS
VARINCO: THE PROPER CHOICE

Edited June 25, 2018 by Fulgistan (see edit history)

[Fulgistan]

OOC: [Year and a day, baybee. We out here playin' 12D chess.]

"Ikaika, come back to bed."

With a start, the man looked up from trying his shoes, seeing the figure of his wife silhouetted against the moonlit window.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I've just got to help my cousin tie up down at the beach; they've been doing some ayu fishing."

"So late in the season? Come on, I'm not stupid."

"I promise, Keke. I'll be back in half an hour, I swear."

Kekealani shifted, sighed, turned over. Her husband stood up, walking over to their bed and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"It's important, darling. I'll be back in bed before you know I'm gone. Promise."

His wife said nothing. Ikaika turned and left the one-room shack the couple called home, his "borrowed" bicycle sitting just outside the front door. There was plenty of moonlight to help his brief pedal down through the pot-holed jungle road to the beach. The waves lapped softly at the white sands, the whole shore silent except for the sound of Ikaika's footsteps.  The north side of the bay, he thought, by the five-peaked rock...

It didn't take long; he'd been walking these beaches since he could walk at all, and he soon found himself standing next to a tall spire of volcanic rock, gazing out at the hazy horizon. This is a trap. This is a trap and we're all going to be killed. His heart pounding in his chest, it took him some time to notice the muffled whine of an outboard motor, which soon cut out. Pressing himself behind the rock, he was able to make out the outline of a small inflatable boat, which had...two, no, three passengers. Black wetsuits, nothing to identify them. As the trio paddled their little craft up onto the shore, Ikaika resisted the urge to run. Against all his better judgement, he stepped out from behind the rock into the moonlight.

"He ākea ka wai."

The three men looked startled. Closer now, he could make out their features. One was dark, an older man. The other two were tanned, with the distinctive eyes and features of the Huang. If there was any doubt these were the men he was to meet, it was now dispelled. The two Huang men had been dragging a long wooden crate along the sand, leaving a furrow in the otherwise pristine ground. The dark one stepped forward, looking him up and down. Cautiously, he spoke the passphrase in halting speech.

"E hiki mai ana ka wanaʻao."

Ikaika dropped into his (poor) Madrian; Best to be safe. The foreigners seem to know little. 

"The box; for me?"

"Yes, comrade, for you and the Poor People's Association."

"Show it."

The man held out his hand, and one of his companions provided a crowbar. Deftly, he pried the lid off the box, revealing its contents, dull under the cosmoline. He picked up a Brownie, and began wiping away the preservative grease.

"Do you know how to use this?"

Ikaika mimed firing full auto from the hip, something he'd seen in innumerable movies. The dark-skinned man laughed.

"Come here, let me show you. Teach this to your comrades; I think they could use the training."

And so the moon shone silently on a desolate beach, one man with a rifle in hand, and three careful instructors to show him how to kill with it.