# **TRUE PIECE**
## **Chapter 14: The Weight of 10,500**
### **The Diner Arc — Part 3**
Power raised both empty hands.
Ten thousand five hundred people moved.
The sound did not resemble an army shouting.
It resembled land approaching across water.
Boots struck decks.
Ropes tightened.
Gangways unfolded from hundreds of ships.
Smaller vessels advanced between larger ones, carrying the first boarding groups toward the **Last Stop Diner**.
Yellow flags opened beneath the night.
A black fist appeared upon every sail.
Eullian Hound closed his left hand.
His right remained trapped inside splints.
Power looked toward the wounded fist.
"You cannot use your full strength."
"No."
"Your right leg remains unstable."
"Yes."
"Your breathing is damaged."
"Yes."
"You fought Chief Asia less than one month ago."
"Yes."
Power lowered his hands.
"Then this battle will provide an inaccurate measurement."
Eullian smiled.
"I'll try to hurt you accurately."
The diner's outer hulls groaned.
Analog stood behind the circular counter with one serving tray in each hand.
"Move this outside."
Power glanced toward him.
"The diner?"
"The personal argument."
Eullian looked around.
Customers overturned tables, closed shutters, and moved injured diners away from the exposed walls.
"The battle is already here."
Analog struck the trays together.
**CLANG.**
"Then use the least useful section."
He pointed toward the western hull.
It had once been a fishing ship. Its deck had been cleared of dining tables after the Capability Exchange attack. Only broken railings, empty storage boxes, and one leaning chimney remained.
Power stepped onto the outer walkway.
Wood bent beneath his bare foot.
"Acceptable."
Eullian followed.
His injured leg dragged slightly.
Power noticed.
Eullian noticed him noticing.
Chief Asia had taught him how dangerous that could become.
Behind Power, Commander Exact Sera lifted four signal flags.
The fleet divided into attack groups.
"Wave One," she called. "Six hundred boarders. Outer ring only."
Mira Cale stared at her.
"You're sending six hundred first?"
"Six hundred is a test."
Runa Above-Storm leaned through the open service wall.
"What is full attack?"
Sera raised a fifth flag.
"Everyone."
Runa smiled.
"Good."
Mira did not.
Commander Carry Bole sat upon the captured Capability Exchange submarine, which rested across two Power Fleet barges. His enormous arms remained folded across his chest.
Commander Quiet Toll stood beside him.
The hundred bells hanging from his gray clothes moved in the sea wind.
None rang.
The three commanders had not taken fighting positions.
Mira looked toward Power.
"Your commanders are staying out?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Power stepped onto the western hull.
"I will fight Eullian."
He looked toward his fleet.
"My people will fight his."
Analog's expression hardened.
"I am not his."
Power glanced toward him.
"You are standing with him."
"That is geographical."
Hijo Albino's white threads appeared between his injured fingers.
"Geography often becomes allegiance under fire."
Analog looked at him.
"You are also not helping."
"I was attempting to."
Power faced Exact Sera.
"No commanders."
Sera's flags stopped.
"Even if the fleet fails?"
"Yes."
"Even if the route marker is lost?"
"Yes."
"Even if you fall?"
The entire fleet seemed to become quieter.
Power answered without hesitation.
"If I fall, they need practice surviving it."
Exact Sera lowered her flags.
"Order acknowledged."
Carry Bole remained seated.
Quiet Toll's bells stayed silent.
Power turned back toward Eullian.
"No commanders."
Eullian looked across the western deck.
"No crew."
Power nodded.
The first six hundred boarders reached the diner.
The battle began.
---
Mira had learned something from Chief Asia.
The first attack was rarely the first purpose.
Six hundred people did not approach as one wave.
They approached in layers.
The front ranks carried broad planks.
The second carried ropes.
The third carried hooks.
The fourth carried nothing.
Those were the dangerous ones.
The first groups would create roads.
The second would secure them.
The third would pull the diner apart.
The unburdened fighters would cross after every obstacle had already been solved.
Mira lifted the Open Ledger with her braced wrist.
Pain ran through the joint.
She ignored it long enough to point.
"Tallen, front row."
Tallen Vey lay behind the diner's roofline rather than standing upon it.
Chief Asia had taught him what happened to shooters who kept their silhouettes visible.
His rebuilt weapon rested inside a groove between two metal cooking vents.
Four lenses aligned above its shortened barrel.
"Which target?"
"None."
Tallen's finger stopped over the first trigger.
Mira pointed toward the planks.
"Purpose."
Tallen understood.
He fired.
The bolt crossed the docking ring.
It did not strike a person.
It struck the center plank carried by the first six boarders.
The projectile entered the wood.
Tallen pressed the second trigger.
The bolt released its first purpose.
**Pierce.**
Its internal hook opened.
A yellow signal cloth burst from the shaft.
The front boarders continued advancing.
Every group behind them saw the yellow cloth.
Exact Sera's flags moved.
The fleet adjusted automatically, centering the first wave upon the marked plank because yellow meant stable approach.
Tallen had learned their signals by watching Sera.
His shot had not destroyed the road.
It had lied about which road mattered.
Mira waited.
"Now."
Runa grabbed the marked plank after it reached the diner.
She pulled.
The six people holding it flew forward.
She rotated the plank vertically, caught all six against its broad surface, and placed them inside an empty cargo enclosure.
The boarders behind them followed the false signal.
Thirty more crossed the space where the plank had been.
There was no plank.
They fell.
Not into the sea.
Hijo's threads tightened beneath them.
A white net caught the entire group.
The lines sagged.
Pain crossed Hijo's face.
His broken fingers could no longer maintain dozens of delicate strands independently.
So he did not.
"Pull," he told the diner workers.
Twelve cooks seized ropes attached to the edges of his thread web.
They took part of the tension.
Hijo had spent years treating his technique as something only his fingers could control.
Chief Asia had broken those fingers.
The Height Tribe had taught him that one person did not need to carry every vibration alone.
Now the cooks pulled.
The net rose.
Thirty boarders swung harmlessly into the side of the diner.
Analog opened a service hatch.
The trapped fighters fell into the dishwashing room.
Several looked around.
Three hundred and twelve replacement plates waited in stacks.
Analog pointed toward them.
"Rule Five."
One boarder frowned.
"We haven't lost."
"You entered the dish room."
Analog closed the hatch.
"Wash."
The next attack group reached the diner.
Hooks caught railings.
Ropes wrapped chimneys.
The Power Fleet pulled.
All seven hulls supporting the Last Stop groaned in different voices.
Mira felt the movement through her boots.
The diner had been constructed from ships never intended to agree.
That weakness could become a weapon.
"Outer paddles reverse!" she shouted.
The diner workers stared.
One pointed toward the control wheels.
"Both sides?"
"Western reverse! Eastern forward!"
"That'll turn us!"
"Yes!"
"The fleet has us surrounded!"
"Then make surrounded move!"
The paddle wheels engaged.
One side beat water backward.
The other pushed forward.
The entire Last Stop Diner began rotating.
Slowly.
Then faster.
The attached Power Fleet ropes changed angle.
Boarding planks scraped sideways.
Ships near the outer ring collided.
Not violently enough to sink.
Enough to break formation.
Exact Sera raised signal flags.
The fleet tried to correct.
Mira watched.
"Faster!"
The diner rotated beneath hundreds of attackers.
The circular counter remained at the center.
Bowls slid.
Customers grabbed them.
A Marine captain ate one final spoonful before helping secure the soup.
Analog saw.
"Correct priority."
The first wave's stable routes became moving targets.
Gangways shifted from doorways to walls.
Hooks tore free.
Boarders landed in the wrong sections.
Some found themselves inside storage rooms.
Others entered the medical ward and were immediately struck by crutches.
Runa walked around the outer ring.
She did not stand in one place and wait for enemies.
Her body was too large.
Remaining still would allow the fleet to treat her like a tower.
She moved.
One enormous foot landed ahead of three boarders.
They stopped.
Her other foot landed behind them.
Runa crouched.
"You are surrounded."
One boarder looked around at the single giant.
"By one person?"
"Yes."
She gathered all three beneath one arm and placed them inside the cargo enclosure.
A rope wrapped around her ankle.
Forty people pulled from a troop ship.
Runa's leg moved six inches.
Their ship moved twelve feet.
Runa looked down.
"You are helping badly."
She lifted her foot.
The troop vessel's bow rose from the water.
Mira shouted, "Do not throw it!"
Runa froze with the ship hanging at an angle.
"Where put?"
"Back!"
"Which back?"
"The water!"
Runa lowered it.
The people aboard stared at her.
Runa raised one finger.
"Stay."
The ship remained still.
For nearly four seconds.
Then someone shouted and the boarders resumed.
Runa smiled.
"Good."
She stepped forward.
---
Power struck first.
No warning.
No special name.
No change in expression.
His fist crossed the western hull and reached Eullian's face.
Eullian moved his head.
The knuckles passed his nose.
The air behind them hit anyway.
Eullian's body left the deck.
He crossed twenty feet and entered the leaning chimney.
Brick cracked around his back.
The entire diner shook.
Power lowered his arm.
"You avoided the fist."
Eullian pulled himself from the chimney.
"Yes."
"Not the power."
"No."
He spat blood onto the deck.
Power waited.
Chief Asia would not have waited.
That difference mattered.
Power wanted resistance.
Chief Asia had wanted sequence.
Eullian stepped forward.
His injured thigh shook.
Power's eyes dropped toward it.
Eullian deliberately shifted his weight away from the wound.
Power attacked the healthy side.
Eullian had expected that.
He returned his weight to the injured leg.
Pain stabbed upward.
The leg held for one second.
Enough.
Power's second punch passed beside Eullian's shoulder.
Eullian struck his ribs with his left fist.
The impact sounded like a hammer against a ship's hull.
Power moved one foot sideways.
Only one.
Eullian's eyes widened.
Power looked down at the point of impact.
A red mark formed beneath his ribs.
"You damaged me."
"Yes."
"You used your injury as bait."
"Yes."
"That was not instinct."
"No."
"Who taught you?"
"Chief Asia."
Power looked toward him again.
"The gunfighter."
"He charged too much."
Power punched downward.
Eullian rolled beneath it.
The fist entered the deck.
Wood did not explode upward.
It sank.
The entire western hull dropped three feet beneath the water.
The attached diner platform tilted.
Eullian slid toward Power.
Power removed his fist from the deck.
He caught Eullian's shirt.
Eullian released his weight.
Chief Asia had used that against him.
Power's arm dipped farther than expected.
Eullian swung beneath the grip and drove his knee into Power's chin.
Power's head moved back.
Eullian twisted free.
His damaged leg failed during the landing.
Power caught his throat.
Eullian struck the inside of Power's elbow.
Nothing.
The arm did not bend.
Power lifted him.
"You adapted to the grab."
"Yes."
"Not enough."
"No."
Power threw him.
Eullian crossed the rotating diner.
He passed through an open kitchen window.
Analog leaned aside while chopping vegetables.
Eullian traveled over the counter and entered a stack of grain sacks.
Flour rose around him.
Analog continued chopping.
"You're bleeding near the food."
"I was thrown."
"Bleed elsewhere."
Power entered through the broken window.
He did not jump.
He stepped through the wall because it was in the shortest path.
Analog's knife stopped.
"You will repair that."
Power looked at the damage.
"If I win."
"If you lose."
Power considered.
"Yes."
Eullian rose from the flour.
His hair had turned white.
Analog looked at him.
"You resemble bread."
"This battle is humiliating."
Power charged.
Analog lifted the cutting board without being asked.
Eullian kicked it.
The board spun.
Power's fist struck it.
Wood became powder.
The brief obstruction divided his vision.
Eullian moved low.
Power had expected him to protect the injured leg.
Instead, Eullian planted the bad foot and allowed it to collapse.
His body dropped beneath the next punch.
He struck Power's stomach from below.
Power's feet left the floor.
Only two inches.
The ceiling above the diner cracked from the upward force.
Eullian used the same motion to rise.
His shoulder struck Power's chest.
They crashed together through the opposite wall and returned to the western hull.
Power landed standing.
Eullian landed on one knee.
Both breathed harder now.
Power touched his stomach.
Another red mark had formed.
"You are improving quickly."
Eullian stood.
"You're giving good lessons."
"I have not explained anything."
"Better lessons."
Power stepped forward.
"So Chief Asia spoke while defeating you."
"Yes."
"And I remain quiet while fighting evenly."
"Yes."
"Which is more useful?"
Eullian smiled.
"You."
Power's expression remained calm.
"Why?"
"Chief Asia wanted me to learn what he already knew."
Eullian raised his left fist.
"You're making me learn what you don't."
Power stopped.
For the first time, uncertainty entered his face.
Small.
But honest.
"What do I not know?"
"How to fight someone who doesn't care that you're stronger."
Power's fist closed.
The deck beneath him bent.
"I am not stronger if the battle remains equal."
"Exactly."
Power attacked.
---
Wave One failed after eleven minutes.
Not because six hundred people had been defeated individually.
Because the Peace Crew never allowed six hundred people to become one force.
Mira rotated the diner and divided formations.
Tallen marked false routes.
Hijo transformed every narrow entrance into a restraint point.
Runa moved boats instead of bodies whenever possible.
Analog controlled the central kitchen, where every boarding path eventually arrived.
The diner customers helped.
But the structure belonged to the Peace Crew's decisions.
Exact Sera lowered one flag.
"Wave One repelled. Two hundred eleven restrained. Three hundred twenty returned to vessels. Sixty-nine remain unaccounted for."
Quiet Toll tilted his head.
"Dish room."
Sera looked toward him.
"All sixty-nine?"
"Some are washing."
Analog heard through the open wall.
"Poorly."
Sera raised new flags.
"Wave Two. One thousand eight hundred."
Mira stared across the sea.
"That is not a wave."
Sera answered from the distant command ship.
"It is still not everyone."
Bridges extended.
The second wave arrived with shields, longer hooks, and portable towers designed to climb Runa.
Tallen saw the towers.
"My lie is that none reach the diner."
Mira looked at his eleven remaining bolts.
"Strengthen it efficiently."
Tallen fired one rope bolt into the nearest tower.
The projectile passed through a gap.
Second trigger.
Its purpose changed.
Not destroy.
**Connect.**
A line extended from the first tower to the second.
Hijo's white thread followed it.
Then connected the second tower to the third.
The Power Fleet continued advancing.
They did not notice the thin network linking all six structures.
Runa waited until they reached her.
Then she grabbed one tower.
Mira shouted, "Now!"
Runa turned.
All six towers moved.
Their linked bases collided.
Wood folded inward.
The structures became one tangled mass filled with angry boarders.
Runa placed it against the outer platform.
"Stay."
A fighter climbed from the top.
Runa pushed him back inside with one finger.
Tallen recorded the result.
"Lie strengthened."
His ribs hurt with every breath.
He no longer fought around the pain.
He used it as timing.
Short inhale.
Aim.
Hold.
Fire during the still point before the body demanded another breath.
Chief Asia had said pain became a navigator.
Tallen chose the destination.
Hijo's injured fingers could not produce his finest cutting web.
So he stopped cutting individual weapons.
He cut decisions.
One thread released a bridge at its hinge.
Another opened a shield strap.
A third split the rope keeping twenty boarders connected.
Small movements.
Large consequences.
When his fingers failed, diner workers pulled marked cords.
Hijo called directions.
"Red line."
A cook pulled.
Five attackers became tied together.
"Blue."
A pirate customer pulled.
A boarding plank rotated vertically and formed a wall.
"White."
Mira grabbed that rope herself.
The entire western entrance closed.
Hijo had once believed skill meant no one else touching his work.
Now his threads passed through dozens of hands.
The web became less precise.
It became larger.
Analog fought without leaving the kitchen.
Every invading route narrowed around ovens, counters, hanging pans, and steaming pots.
He knew every inch.
Boarders did not.
One fighter jumped across the counter.
Analog opened an oven.
Heat struck the attacker's face.
The man turned away.
A tray struck the back of his knees.
He fell into a chair.
Analog placed a bowl before him.
"Eat."
The fighter stared.
"What?"
"You have not eaten since yesterday morning."
The fighter's face changed.
Analog had seen the signs.
Slow focus.
Dry lips.
The shaking beneath aggression.
"You're trying to trick me."
"No."
The bowl smelled of fish, grain, and redroot.
The boarder looked toward the battle.
Then toward the food.
Analog placed a spoon inside his hand.
"You can continue after."
The man ate.
He did not continue.
Others did.
Some refused.
Analog struck those with trays.
No gratitude debt.
No forced loyalty.
Food first.
Choice afterward.
Wave Two entered hungry.
It left divided.
---
Power's fifth punch broke Eullian's left forearm.
Not completely.
One bone cracked.
Eullian heard it.
Power heard it too.
He stopped the next strike before it landed.
"Your remaining arm is failing."
"Yes."
"You should surrender."
"No."
"You cannot close your right fist."
"No."
"You cannot safely strike with the left."
"No."
"Then you possess no punch."
Eullian stepped closer.
Power watched his shoulders.
His hips.
His feet.
Chief Asia's lessons had traveled.
Power had learned from watching only minutes.
That made him dangerous differently.
He did not possess Chief Asia's library of experience.
He possessed enough raw power to survive mistakes while learning from them.
Eullian smiled.
"You're adapting too."
"Yes."
"Good."
"Why?"
"I hate improving alone."
Power's fist moved toward Eullian's stomach.
Eullian did not block.
He twisted.
The knuckles struck his side instead.
Pain erupted through old bullet wounds.
Eullian allowed the impact to turn him.
His body rotated around Power's arm.
He trapped the wrist beneath his injured armpit.
Not strength against strength.
Position.
Power pulled.
Eullian went with him.
He stepped onto Power's thigh, climbed the moving arm, and drove his elbow into Power's temple.
The cracked left forearm screamed.
The elbow remained usable.
Power staggered.
Eullian hit the same point with his shoulder.
Power turned.
His hand caught Eullian's face.
He pushed.
Eullian crossed the deck and struck the railing.
The entire western hull rolled.
Power touched his temple.
Blood marked his fingers.
The first open wound.
Across the fleet, several people saw it.
Exact Sera's flags stopped for half a second.
Power looked toward the blood.
Then toward Eullian.
"You changed weapons."
"My arms are still attached."
"One is broken."
"Less attached emotionally."
Power charged.
Eullian moved toward him.
They collided at the center of the western hull.
Power's shoulder struck Eullian's chest.
Eullian's forehead struck Power's jaw.
Neither moved backward.
The deck sank beneath them.
Seawater crossed the edges.
Power grabbed Eullian's waist.
Eullian wrapped his legs around one of Power's knees.
Power lifted.
Eullian twisted.
They fell together.
Power hit the deck first.
Eullian hit Power.
The hull dropped deeper.
Water buried both.
Power stood beneath the wave.
Eullian held onto him.
Power punched through the water.
The impact separated the sea around his fist.
Eullian released him before contact.
He allowed the returning water to carry him behind Power.
Eullian kicked the back of his knee.
Power bent.
Not far.
Enough.
Eullian climbed his back and locked one arm around his neck.
Power reached behind himself.
Eullian dropped before the hand closed.
Power turned.
Eullian's heel struck his already-wounded temple.
Power's head snapped sideways.
The western hull rose from the water as their combined pressure shifted.
Both slid across the wet deck.
Power stopped by driving his fingers through the boards.
Eullian stopped against the broken chimney.
Blood poured from Power's temple now.
More than before.
He stood.
His calm remained.
His eyes did not.
They had become sharper.
Interested.
"You are physically weaker than me."
"Yes."
"You are more injured."
"Yes."
"You possess less experience."
"Chief Asia explained that."
Power wiped blood from the side of his head.
"Then why is this equal?"
Eullian leaned against the chimney.
His left forearm hung poorly.
His right hand remained splinted.
His chest struggled for air.
He smiled.
"Because you keep trying to prove you're powerful."
Power waited.
"And?"
"I'm trying to win."
Power looked toward him.
The difference entered the fight.
Power's dream required strength to become the final answer.
Every exchange had become evidence.
Can Eullian withstand this?
Can he move Power?
Can he draw blood?
Can Power remain standing?
Eullian did not care what the battle proved.
He only cared what it allowed next.
Protect the diner.
Keep Analog's recipe free.
Stop the fleet from taking the marker.
Punch the person creating the threat.
Power had more power.
Eullian had fewer obligations to his own image.
Power stepped forward.
"Then win."
---
Wave Three contained three thousand people.
The attack covered the entire outer ring.
Mira's injured wrist had swollen beneath the brace.
Hijo had lost feeling in his two bound fingers.
Tallen had four bolts left.
Runa's shoulders bled where climbing hooks had torn her skin.
Analog's right palm had been cut deeply enough that every grip covered the tray handle in blood.
None retreated.
They had retreated from Chief Asia only when Eullian needed them to stop the children's capture.
They had survived because each person completed a role.
Now those roles had expanded.
Mira no longer navigated only the ship.
She navigated people.
"Lower Hull Three!"
Diner workers released the western fishing hull's rear chains.
The old ship dropped several feet.
Hundreds of boarders approaching its roof suddenly faced a wall instead of a floor.
"Raise Hull Six!"
Runa pulled the opposite support chain.
A merchant hull tilted upward.
Its deck became a ramp.
Power Fleet boarders slid backward into their own boats.
Exact Sera adjusted.
Mira adjusted faster.
Not because she counted better.
Because the diner did not need to preserve formation.
The Power Fleet did.
Ten thousand five hundred people required order.
The Peace Crew required purpose.
Tallen fired his fourth-to-last bolt into the black fist flag above one troop carrier.
Second trigger.
Release purpose.
The projectile opened into a white flare.
The ship's boarders stopped.
White meant medical emergency.
Two surrounding ships turned to assist.
There was no emergency.
Until their hulls collided.
Now there was.
Tallen wrote the result mentally.
A protective lie could create the danger it falsely announced.
Noted.
Use carefully.
Hijo stood at the center of the diner.
Threads extended from his fingers to every hull.
Not enough to control them.
Enough to feel.
Footsteps became vibration.
Boarding groups became pressure.
He closed his eyes.
"North kitchen!"
Analog moved before the attackers appeared.
He overturned a flour sack.
White powder filled the doorway.
Five boarders entered blind.
Analog struck the first with a tray.
The second slipped on spilled grain.
The third inhaled flour and began coughing.
The fourth raised both hands.
The fifth looked toward a pot.
"What is that?"
"Dinner."
The fifth surrendered first.
"Roof!" Hijo called.
Runa placed one hand flat above the dining hall.
The roof collapsed downward by six inches.
Thirty boarders lost room to stand.
Runa lifted it again.
Hijo's threads tied every ankle before the attackers recovered.
"Western wall!"
Mira rotated the diner.
The wall moved away from the approaching gangways.
Boarders jumped.
Runa caught them in an empty soup net.
Tallen aimed his final three bolts.
He could stop three threats.
There were hundreds.
He lowered the weapon.
Mira looked toward him.
"Why stop?"
"I am aiming too small."
He removed one lens.
Then a second.
Through four lenses, Tallen saw targets.
Through two, he saw the battle.
He aimed at the Last Stop Diner's alarm bell.
Fired.
The blunt round struck its outer rim.
**BOOOONG.**
Quiet Toll's bells answered across the fleet.
All one hundred rang.
The elderly commander's eyes opened.
Tallen fired again at a different point on the bell.
A higher note.
Quiet Toll's bells repeated it.
Thousands of fleet members turned toward their commander's signal.
Tallen fired the final bolt.
Third note.
Retreat.
He had listened to Toll coordinating damaged ships during the Capability Exchange attack.
He had learned three of the fleet's emergency sounds.
Now he lied using the fleet's own silence.
One hundred bells rang the retreat pattern.
The outer attack stopped.
Not everyone obeyed.
Enough did.
Gangways pulled back.
Boats turned.
Confusion spread.
Exact Sera raised flags furiously.
But her visual orders disagreed with Quiet Toll's bells.
The fleet hesitated between commanders.
Quiet Toll looked toward Tallen across the water.
Tallen's weapon was empty.
He met the old man's eyes.
"My lie is that your fleet has already lost."
Quiet Toll's bells became silent.
He did not correct the signal.
Exact Sera turned toward him.
"Toll."
"I heard him."
"You repeated a false withdrawal."
"Yes."
"Why?"
The old commander looked toward the diner.
"To learn who obeys sound without examining danger."
Sera's expression hardened.
"We are in a battle."
"That is when the answer matters."
The commanders kept their order.
They did not join.
Wave Three broke around the diner.
The Peace Crew remained standing.
Barely.
All ten thousand five hundred had not boarded simultaneously.
They could not.
Water, space, gangways, and the diner's rotating hulls denied them that advantage.
But every available section of the Power Fleet had attempted to reach the Last Stop.
Every attempt had been stopped, redirected, trapped, fed, restrained, confused, or sent back.
The fleet still surrounded them.
The diner still floated.
That was enough.
---
Power attacked with both hands for the first time.
The fists struck from opposite directions.
Eullian could not retreat.
The chimney stood behind him.
He dropped.
Power's fists collided above his head.
The impact flattened the chimney.
Brick dust covered both men.
Eullian drove his shoulder into Power's stomach.
Power caught him around the ribs.
His arms closed.
Eullian's damaged bones compressed.
Something broke inside his chest.
Power lifted him.
Eullian struck Power's wounded temple with his elbow.
Once.
Power's grip tightened.
Twice.
Power slammed him into the deck.
Wood broke around Eullian's body.
Power raised him again.
Eullian hit the temple a third time.
Power threw him through the outer railing.
Eullian fell toward the sea.
He caught the broken rail with his splinted right hand.
Pain turned his vision white.
The compressed bones inside the fist shifted.
He refused to close it.
The splints caught the wood instead.
Eullian hung.
Power walked toward him.
Blood covered the entire right side of the fleet captain's face.
It ran through his beard.
Down his chest.
His temple had swollen enough to narrow one eye.
He remained standing.
Eullian smiled upward.
"Your head looks bad."
"Your entire body looks bad."
"That seems unfairly broad."
Power reached down.
Eullian swung.
Not upward.
Sideways.
He kicked the diner hull.
The old fishing ship rocked.
Power adjusted his stance.
Eullian had expected that.
The splinted hand released.
He dropped.
Power's eyes widened.
Eullian caught a lower rope with his legs.
His body swung beneath the deck.
He disappeared from Power's sight.
Power moved to the edge.
Eullian came up on the opposite side.
He had used the rope wrapped around the hull to circle beneath him.
Chief Asia had shown him the same movement using a counterweight chain.
Eullian landed behind Power.
He did not strike.
Power turned immediately.
That was the reaction Eullian wanted.
Power's damaged temple led the movement.
Eullian stepped inside.
His broken left forearm could not produce a full punch.
So he placed the fist against Power's forehead first.
No speed.
No distance.
Power looked at it.
"This cannot hurt me."
"Not alone."
Eullian used his injured leg.
Not to kick.
To collapse.
His entire body dropped beneath the planted fist.
Power's instinct was to resist downward force.
He rooted both feet.
Eullian's shoulder moved beneath his own arm.
His hips turned.
Every usable piece of his body aligned behind the fist already touching Power's head.
No warning distance.
No visible swing.
Power had no time to measure it.
Eullian drove upward.
The left fist struck Power's forehead at point-blank range.
The cracked forearm nearly separated.
Eullian screamed.
Power's head snapped backward.
Eullian did not stop.
He remembered Chief Asia's sequence.
One attack created the position for the next.
The first impact lifted Power's chin.
Eullian stepped forward.
Power's own rooted stance prevented his body from traveling backward enough to reduce the force.
Eullian grabbed the back of Power's neck with his splinted hand.
The fingers did not close.
The wrist and forearm hooked him instead.
Eullian pulled.
At the same time, he drove his forehead forward.
Skull met skull.
The impact silenced the nearest sea.
Power's forehead split.
Not the bone completely.
The skin opened from his hairline to above his left eyebrow.
Blood erupted between them.
Power's knees bent.
Eullian felt the fleet captain's weight shift.
For the first time, Power did not control where it went.
Eullian turned.
He used Power's falling momentum.
The lesson Chief Asia had beaten into him:
Do not oppose the force if it already travels somewhere useful.
Eullian pulled Power past his shoulder.
Power's head struck the bronze alarm bell hanging beside the western hull.
**BONG.**
The bell dented.
Power fell to one knee.
Blood poured from his forehead.
It crossed both eyes.
Ran from his chin.
Struck the deck in heavy drops.
Eullian stumbled backward.
His left arm hung uselessly.
The splints around his right hand had cracked.
His forehead had opened too.
He remained standing because the broken chimney caught his back.
Power touched the wound on his head.
His fingers disappeared beneath red.
He looked at the blood.
Then toward Eullian.
Across the entire Power Fleet, movement stopped.
Gangways remained half raised.
Ropes hung between ships.
Thousands of fists stayed ready.
Exact Sera's flags lowered.
Carry Bole slowly stood from the captured submarine.
Quiet Toll's hundred bells became perfectly motionless.
Ten thousand five hundred people stared at their captain.
Power had been moved before.
He had been cut.
Shot.
Burned.
Crushed beneath ships.
They knew the scars across his body.
But most had never seen him forced to one knee.
They had never seen his blood fall because another person had met his power evenly.
They had never seen his head bowed for any reason.
Absolute silence covered the yellow fleet.
On the other side of the Last Stop Diner, someone cheered.
One voice.
The elderly customer with the spoon raised it overhead.
"PEACE CREW!"
A pirate struck the counter.
A Marine shouted beside him.
The chained prisoner climbed onto her stool.
Diner workers lifted pots, knives, towels, plates, and burned serving spoons.
Runa threw both enormous arms into the sky.
Hijo opened his tired eyes.
Mira allowed herself one exhausted smile.
Tallen raised his empty weapon.
Analog stood behind the counter with blood coating both tray handles.
He looked toward Eullian.
Then Power.
Then the ten thousand five hundred people who had believed strength could only move in one direction.
The Last Stop Diner erupted.
"PEACE CREW!"
"PEACE CREW!"
"PEACE CREW!"
The cheers crossed the water.
They struck the silent fleet harder than any cannon.
Power remained on one knee.
Blood ran between his fingers.
Eullian laughed through his ruined breathing.
For the first time, ten thousand five hundred followers heard another side celebrate because their captain had been hurt.
For the first time, Power looked small enough to be human.