Back to Part 026 Notes – Forward to Part 028 Notes

More flashbacks. Hello, past Rose.

I’m trying something out here. Aside from spending time letting the crew run around the ship, I had some history I had to drop. It’s safe to assume that everyone on the Rose knows who Eaton Fyfe is, and what he did. The footnote at the end of the section was an attempt to drop that history without having someone just spout it out. I kind of liked it, actually.

So here’s the situation: Logan has a business opportunity. Cait is skeptical. She knows better than to believe in what seems like a get-rich-quick scheme, but the name drop of Eaton Fyfe changes everything. What the footnotes hopefully communicated was that Fyfe was a businessman in Lat, made some (alleged) pirate connections, and some (confirmed) pirate connections, and got busted for it. He then disappeared.

Cait hears the part about the pirate connections. Logan hears the part about the magical thing that can make her life better. Cait hears trying to cheat to get into an early retirement. Logan hears glory, riches, adventure. Most importantly, Cait hears the pirate connections.

A lot.

Cait wants to run a respectable boat. Eaton Fyfe has no room on the Rose.

More on this later.

[g]

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Back to Part 026 Notes – Forward to Part 028 Notes

Back to Part 026 – Forward to Part 028

Two and a half years before

The Rose left port of Hin on the western coast of Lingguo, the weight of its cargo pushing the boat lower in the water. All twenty one of her crew moved about the boat, securing crates in the cargo bay they hadn’t had time to fasten down before they shoved off. In the kitchen, the chef had already started on dinner, and his sou-chef plating the first course. On the bridge, navigation, free of the harbor pilot, plotted the quickest course back to the COS, while the helm prepared a report for the captain of their upcoming voyage.

In the guest quarters, the crew settled in their passengers, who had left their suitcases in their staterooms, and now were mingling under the false-sunset of the dome. The lights on the tables around them provided the rest of their light, while the crew served drinks and set the guest table for dinner.

Logan found Cait just as she had started to prepare her office for sleep. The papers on her desk had been arranged into neat, separate stacks, only a few luxuriating in the In Box. What had been sorted, Logan knew, had been filed away in Cait’s filing cabinets. Her pens had even been lined up neatly at the top of her desk, ready to be used in the morning. Cait was unplugging the electric kettle as Logan stepped in to the office.

“Hello, dear,” Cait said, her ears lowering a little. “What brings you up here?”

“Just wanted to report in,” Logan said, waiting just inside the office door. Cait nodded.

“We have quite the haul this time. This may be a ship record,” she said. “Why are you actually here?”

Logan faltered, and then straightened up. “I have something,” Logan said.

“Oh?” Cait looked behind Logan, who held her hands behind her back. “Is it here?”

“Well, no. But it’s big!”

“Big like the Rose big?”

“Big like we’ll never have to work again big.”

Cait wrapped the kettle’s cord around its base. She set it back on top of the filing cabinets, her smile fading. “Go on.”

“I met a group while we were in Hin, and they’ve been talking about something that, if they can find it, will be worth more money than we have ever seen.”

Cait placed a hand on her hip. “Really? Treasure-hunting? How old are you, dear?”

“It sounds like a sure thing,” Logan said. “They have a few strong leads. With a little detective work, we could be part of this.”

“And in the meantime, we just give up our work?”

“I guess we’d have to, yeah,” Logan said. She stepped forward, holding on to Cait’s arm. “At least hear them out.”

“I will hear you out,” Cait said, sliding an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “What is this thing they aim to find?”

“They don’t know. They think it’s an old weapon, from a lost civilization. They think maybe it’s where Ebe himself had been imprisoned.”

“But they are not sure.”

Logan dropped her eyes. “No. But they have a whole lot of research about it. Lots of books. Like, on every surface. So many books.”

“And they are not sure of where it is,” Cait said, her ears very slowly leveling out.

“You should have seen the books, Cait!”

“I think,” Cait said, “that this would be a bad investment of our time.”

Logan let go of Cait’s arm, and Cait stepped into her quarters. She took off her COS coat and hung it neatly on a hanger. “Remind me,” she said, if not to Logan, than herself, “that I need a dry cleaners when we land again.”

“Eaton thinks this is a sure thing,” Logan said, leaning against Cait’s desk.

Cait came back out of her quarters, in a tank top that bared her arms and shoulders. Without her coat, Cait was slender, with a hint of a tummy snuggled up under her top. Logan was once again reminded of what years of training at Archertown got Cait. “Eaton? Eaton Fyfe?”*

“Yes?” Logan said, shrinking a little.

Cait suddenly seemed much bigger. “We do not associate with pirates. Under no circumstances do I want to hear that name on this boat again.”

“Cait,” Logan started, “he’s not that bad.”

“He’s part of the decline of civilization, and that has no place on the Rose.”

“He’s on to something really big,” Logan pleaded.

“I do not care. We have no room for him or his ideas on board the Rose. As your captain, I will not allow further contact.”

“What about my friend? What does my friend think?” Logan asked.

Cait grabbed Logan by her shoulder and with gentle force, pushed her out on to the bridge. “As far as I am concerned, this conversation is over. Good night, Logan.” Cait closed the door behind her.

Tre watched from the helm’s seat. Navigation had left early, or had stepped off for a bathroom break, and now Tre sat in the glow of the helm, eyeing Logan.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Logan said to Tre. She stomped off the bridge, fuming. She got down to the crew quarters before her mind caught up with her momentum, and she turned around, back up to the bridge.

Tre had resumed his duties, checking the monitors pulled up around him. Logan sat down in the navigator’s chair.

“I’m willing to bet you heard all of that,” she said to Tre. He eyed Logan, but kept his gaze on the weather radar.

“Do you want in?”

Tre didn’t move.

“There’s more on the other side of that. Glory, riches,” Logan said. “More than this existence. No more cramped bunks, no more sharing space with twenty other people. You can go where you want, when ever you want.”

Tre turned to Logan, exhaling hard and short through his nose. He stared into Logan’s eyes until she turned away.

“Fine,” she said. “I thought I’d try. Let me know when you change your mind.” She got up, shoulders back, and strode down into the crew quarters. As she entered, a hand named Trenz looked up from his cleaning.

“Hello,” Logan said. “You got a minute to talk business?”

—-

This is what the index of the Æncyclopedia Latania says about Eaton Fyfe:

Fyfe, Eaton (3943-?)
ALSO SEE:

• disappearance;
• Early life in Lat;
• entrepreneur;
• pirate connections, alleged;
• pirate connections, confirmed;

[g]

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Back to Part 026 – Forward to Part 028

Back to Part 023 Notes – Forward to Part 025 Notes

Two things happening in this section: Preparing for the Information Traders, and meeting the Information Traders. Billy, as a due to his experience in the navy, leads the way.

A couple of things about the Information Traders: They are pirates, or pirate-affiliated, which means they tend to stay away from normal ports like Anchorhead or New Haven, but are welcomed in places like Lúme, where the government finds them useful. There are neutral nations, like Ganda, that will allow pirates in, as long as they behave themselves.

Second, the Traders are, at their heart, gossips, hence the easy nature with the lead Trader and Cait. They like information, and they like to share. Lately, it’s been a lot of sharing for free, with all the arms being broken and whatnot.

Third, analog tech. One of the big things about Ta Ante I wanted to do was present a world that’s slow to adopt new technology. Certain things, like submarine tech and the Relay, are quickly picked up. But computers like we know them are much less used. Xiphos uses one on the Rose for navigation, but it is entirely normal for a captain, like Cait, to prefer charts to computers. The Traders like their books, and what was implied in this chapter is that they have thousands upon thousands of books of information. The great tome in the middle is something of an index to all of it. And I find that much more interesting than computer screens and print outs. Also, sealing wax.

So that’s all I have for this week. As always, any questions and comments you have are totally welcome.

[g]

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Back to Part 023 Notes – Forward to Part 025

Back to Part 023 – Forward to Part 025

Billy laid out scrap paper from the Relay feed on Cait’s desk. He sketched with a pencil the Port of Voys, in Lúme. He moved his hand quickly, marking little boxes for city blocks with ease. Before long he had a simple map of the port. Cait watched, hands on her hips. Traffic from Lúme had increased, and they’d reach the port in a few hours.

“We’ll be landing here,” he said, sketching the docks out from the land. “There’s an avenue here,” dark pencil streaked up the paper, “that splinters off into smaller feeders,” like branches on a tree. Along one branch, he drew a row of boxes. “These two buildings have an alley between them,” a thin line, bent in a shallow unseen slalom, “which will take us to,” quick marks made a box, “the Bloody Courtyard.”

“Bloody like ‘oi, that’s a bloody courtyard, it is’,” Xiphos said, leaning against Cait’s filing cabinent, “or bloody like bloody-bloody?”

“I think,” Billy said, “it’s just a name. Also, no one invited you. Go steer the ship.”

Xiphos sighed, trudging back to the helm. She sat down at the controls, pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. Cait watched over her shoulder, then turned to Billy.

“That was mean.”

“She knows we’re playing. She’ll be fine.” He tapped his pencil on the paper. “So?”

Cait looked at the map. “I think you could hang it in the Anchorhead Museum of Modern Art and no one would be the wiser.”

Billy dropped his shoulders. “I’m doing my best here, Cait. It’s been 15 years.”

“Just ruffling your feathers, dear. I think it is suitable.” She traced the route with her eyes. “What does one bring when one calls on an Information Trader?”

“Everyone loves a fruit basket,” Billy shrugged.

“Hmm.”

Toby waited at the door with a tea service. Cait waved him in. “Thank you, dear.”

Toby nodded, and turned back to the door. Tre was right behind, carrying a small container.

“What’s this?” Billy asked, leaning over to look inside.

“Left overs,” Toby said. A few of the little cakes were left, along with some cookies, and what looked like droplets of chocolate. He quickly arranged a small selection on a plate next to the tea pot.

“Is Tre helping you now?” Cait asked, stifling a little smile.

Toby nodded again. “I had a lot to carry.”

“That was big of you,” Billy said, up to Tre.

Tre took a cookie from the box and took a bite, raising his eyebrows at Billy. He turned to walk off the bridge, but not before Toby grabbed a couple of cookies himself, plating one on a saucer from the tea service. He stayed a moment longer.

“Do not go too far, Tre,” Cait said. “I will need to speak to you in just a moment.”

Toby shifted his weight back and forth, from foot to foot. “Uhm… sir?” He said, dropping his eyes away from Cait.

“Yes, dear,” Cait said. She poured tea for Billy, and then herself.

“Do you… when… when do you think I’ll be able to go home?”

“Soon,” Cait said. “We are working on it, but these things can take time. I will make sure you are informed. Does that answer your question?”

Toby nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” He started back to the guest kitchen, which he had taken over as his, but curved his path. He took the plate with the cookie on it and set it down next to Xiphos, before almost darting off the bridge. Xiphos looked down at the cookie, and then back out the hatch. Her tail twitched a little.

Tre slipped back into the office, waiting with his hands behind his back.

“We will need you for this mission,” Cait said.

Tre raised an eyebrow.

“I would prefer having an escort with me when I go to speak to the pirates.”

Tre shook his head.

“No? And why not?”

Tre tapped the medallion around his neck.

“I do not expect trouble,” Cait said. “But I would like someone to intimidate all the same.”

Tre shook his head again.

“You won’t have to hurt anyone,” Billy said.

Tre gave a short, exasperated sigh, and held out his hands, open to Billy.

“No,” Cait said. “We are asking him to go against his oath.” She turned to Billy. “We will just have to work with what we have.”

—-

Bloody Square resembled neither. It was an oblong, half-hearted attempt at a rectangle, notched by doorways and alcoves and little shrines to the various Gods and their Servants. And it was quiet, tempered only by the sound of a little fountain trickling away.

Billy pointed Cait to a perfectly boring door on the edge of the square. It was a door that was trying too hard to be perfectly boring, right down to its perfectly chosen stain and door knocker. Cait lifted the knocker and pounded a couple of times. From inside came nondescript bustling. Cait looked back at Billy, who focused hard on looking tough.

The door opened, but only enough for someone to peek out. “Bonan tagon.”

“We would like information,” Cait said.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Foriru!” He started to close the door. Billy hit it with the heel of his hand, and the door sprang open. Cait stepped inside. There was a small foyer, with steps leading up to what could have been apartments. Off to the side with a door, slightly cracked, light spilling out from inside. Cait motioned to Billy to follow her in.

“Digu!” The man said, trying to block the door. “Ni havas nenio por vin!”

Billy brushed the man aside, and Cait stepped in to the room.

The walls of the room were bookshelves over every imaginable size and shape. Cait took the time to examine some of the spines. They were marked by hand with ever increasing numbers. Every shelf had only these books. In the center of the room was a table, more of these books surrounding a much larger volume, which had been spread open. A couple of scholarly-looking men, their work interrupted, looked up from the table. A doorway led to another room that, from what Cait could tell, looked exactly like this one.

“I am not asking,” Cait said. The man looked between Cait and Billy a few times.

“No,” he said, his Merchant suddenly disappearing. “I should guess not.”

“We want to talk about a map,” Cait said. She turned back to the man. “I am sure you are aware of it.”

“There are a lot of maps,” the Information Trader said. He took a few steps towards the table. The scholars got up and left the room, closing the door behind them. The Trader looked up and swore.

“Hmm,” Cait said. “But none like this one. Perhaps you have heard of it. It seems to be very old, but the continents are incredibly and very accurately detailed. The Gods seem to be watching from the borders.”

“It sounds wonderful,” the Trader said, “but I have heard of no such map.”

“You are wasting my time,” Cait said.

“I could say the same of you.”

Cait stepped forward. The Trader stepped back. “This is your last chance, pirate. Tell me what you know about the map.”

The Trader laughed, and Cait tilted her head. She hadn’t expected that, but she hid her surprise quickly.

“Or what?”

“Him,” Cait said, motioning with her head to Billy.

The Trader snorted. “I’ve seen worse.”

Cait sighed hard through her nose. “Right,” she said, dropping her voice. She looked at the wooden floorboards. Then, looking right at the Trader, her voice stronger, she said, “Billy, punch him in the throat.”

Billy cracked his knuckles, squeezing his hands into fists. He stepped forward, raising his hand. The Trader shielded his face, “Alright!”

“Billy,” Cait said, and Billy stepped back. The Trader stepped around the table to the great book in the center. He flipped a few pages back, scanning the page with his finger. He stopped, read the passage, and then looked up at Cait.

“I think you will find the answer is exactly what you thought it was.”

“And what would that be?” Cait said.

“Pirates,” the Trader said.

“Hmm. And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“You have your hunches,” the Trader said. “But you have a few leads to follow.”

“That means nothing. I am not here to get my fortune told. Is this how you conduct your business?”

The Trader leaned against the table. “A lot of the pirate clans wanted the map as much as you do now. We’ve received numerous visits, just as you have, except usually we play dumb and tell them nothing.” The Trader scratched behind his ear.

“And why is this time different?”

“I like you, Captain Molyneux.”

Cait raised an eyebrow.

“I cannot help but feel responsible for your loss,” the pirate said.

“What do you know of-” Cait started.

The Trader shrugged. “What is it you think we do here? Anyways, I have a name of a boat where the map may be.” He produced a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote a name on it. He then, very ceremoniously, sealed it with wax and stamped it with the Information Trader’s seal. “Find this ship, and you’ll find your map.” He handed the paper to Cait. “And the people that go with that map, I assume.”

“Thank you,” Cait said. She took her leave, letting Billy linger a moment. When they were both gone, the Trader rapped on the door to the next room.

“You can come out now,” the Trader said, adding under his breath, “you jellyfish.” He straightened the books on the table, returning the great tome to the work in progress, and checking over the work of his scholars. Another moment passed, and gradually, the scholars returned to their stations. Another knock came at the door.

“Really? Did I not already give you what you need?” He opened the door. “What is it now, Captai-”

“I’m back.” A former patron.

“No,” the Trader said. He tried to push the door closed, reaching for the emergency alarm next to the door. “You’re supposed to be heading to-”

“Yeah,” the patron said. They rammed the door, spilling in. The scholars tried to get up, but more people streamed through the door. The patron stepped inside, drawing a gun.

“We need to talk about my map.”

[g]

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Back to Part 023 – Forward to Part 025

Back to Act 2 Prologue – Forward to Part 020

The Rose entered Port Ganda with the aid of a harbor master. She flew two flags: one of a pirate attack, and one of lost crew member. The harbor master saw to it there were no ships in her way, and no one entered or left the harbor when the Rose came in. The coroner waited on the docks, and took Nina to be held until the Molyneux’s official envoy could carry her back to Buan Chuimhne. The Rose was docked, and Cait stood the crew down.

There were no traditions of honor guards in the Civilian Navy, but Tre, Billy, and Xiphos all took turns sitting with Nina while the Rose made the remainder of the journey to Ganda.

None of the crew left the Rose, with the exception of Tre. Ganda had become his second home. Ganda was where the Oracle herself made her home, her temple overlooking Port Ganda high in the mountain above the city. He left when they arrived in the port. Everyone else disappeared to their bunks.

Cait closed her own door, taking in the silence of her bunk. The light in her bunk was low, as she always kept it, except for the small reading lamp over her bed. She left it off. She opened her vent, letting cool, fresh air inside. In the far corner of her bunk, covered by a red cloth, was an alter to Nibiru, Goddess of the Ocean Tribes. Cait lit some incense. She knelt before the shrine, and very careful, she bowed, touching her head to the floor, making sure her movements were precise, exact. She kept her head down exactly eight seconds, and then lifted up. Averting her eyes away from the tiny statue of Nibiru inside, she said, “Great Goddess of the Oceans, I thank you for its creation and the bounty you have seen fit to provide myself and my crew…”

Cait hesitated, her jaw trembling. She held it shut until she was sure she could control it. “I will not question why you chose to take Nina at the time you did, but she passed under your watch, and I ask that you please guide her safely to the shores of Mingulay. And please watch over the safety of my crew. I know it is presumptuous of me to say, but you have already taken enough from me.”

She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “If this is not where you want me to be, please let me know.”

She bowed again, touching her head to the floor and counting the full eight seconds. From a basket on the floor, Cait took an orange and placed it in front of shrine. She left her bunk to find her crew.

Cait found the guest quarters empty. She opened the dome, letting in real sunlight, hoping to make the shadows leave.

The crew quarters were silent, and both Billy and Xiphos had closed and locked their doors. Cait retrieved a bucket from under the sink, tossed a soap tablet in, and began to fill it with hot water. She tossed a brush inside, and started towards the cargo bay.

Toby pinged down the steps, stopping in front of her. Neither expected each other, and both jumped back, Cait sloshing water on the floor.

“Sir!” Toby said. He scrambled to the table to unload his arms, and went back to help Cait clean up the water. “Sorrysorrysorry!”

“Tobias,” Cait said, her voice soft, tired. “It is nothing.”

Toby nodded. He went back to the table.

“How are you, Tobias?”

Toby looked up at Cait through his headfur. It seemed to always be styled, but today it drooped down in front of his eyes. Dark streaks tracked down his cheeks, his eyes tired and red. He shrugged.

Cait sat down at the table, setting her bucket aside for the moment. Toby went about setting everything up he had carried down. There were little trays of brightly colored puffs and miniature cakes, various fried-looking things. It all looked unhealthy and delicious.

“What are you up to?” Cait asked slowly, looking over his creations. “Did you bake all of this?”

Toby stopped. He took a step back from the table, and played with his hands. “Yes, sir.” He hesitated a moment. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Cait nodded, folding her arms over her stomach. “I would worry if you did,” she said. She pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. “Quite frankly, Tobias, I do not know what to do, either.” She cradled her head in her hands.

Cait let the conversation between them sputter off. She took a moment to rest. Toby fidgeted, and the silence was broken by the sound of metal sliding over wood. It stopped against Cait’s arms. She very slowly looked down at the tray of little cakes, colorful little cubes that reminded her of New Year’s presents. Toby leaned over the table, kneeling on a chair, pushing the tray forward with his finger tips. He drew back his hand, watching Cait.

Cait took a little cake. “Thank you, Tobias.”

Toby nodded. He sat down at the table with Cait, and watched her eat the cake. She paused a moment, considering the flavor, and took another.

“That’s quite good,” she said.

Toby’s tail thumped against the chair.

“Why have you not tried to run yet?” Cait asked.

“Sir?”

“There is a Colony consulate here. You could have been in the care of your government by now, on your way home.”

Toby played with his hands. “I dunno.”

“Would you like to go?”

Toby looked up at Cait, meeting her strong but tired gaze. Her ears had flattened out, heavy with defeat. “I don’t… I thought you were going to straighten things out.”

“I do not feel I can keep you safe anymore, which was the reason to keep you here. Perhaps your own people could sort out your problems.”

Toby shrank in his chair, looking away. His ears flattened against his head.

Cait stood, picking up her bucket. “We will be here a few days. My family and I will meet. If you are to leave during that time, I would not hold it against you.” She left Toby at the table, her back to his wide, confused stare.

Cait descended into the cargo bay, and set the bucket down in the middle of the floor, next to the spot where Nina had spent her final moment. The floor was sticky with dried blood. Cait splashed some of the water on to the floor, got down on her knees, and began to scrub.

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Back to Act 2 Prologue – Forward to Part 020

Back to Part 017 Notes – Forward to Act 2 Prologue

This week is going to be a cop-out. I don’t have anything to say that doesn’t feel glib, given what just happened. I’d be happy to take any questions you have, but let me say this: If the questions is, “Why?”, my answer will be, “there is a reason, but I can’t tell you.” Other than that, let’s call this post an open thread.

I don’t like what happened either, and I dreaded posting this section. I can’t apologize, because I made it happen, and it had to. And I’m actually mourning.

So.

Yeah.

[g]

Back to Part 017 Notes – Forward to Act 2 Prologue

Back to Part 017 – Forward to Act 2 Prologue

“You heard something?” Nina stepped into the cargo bay, pulling Xiphos by the hand behind her. “And so you come find me, who’s smaller than you?”

“Yes,” Xiphos said. She swung her head around, scanning the corners of the cargo bay.

A few small lights glowed in the emptiness of the bay, casting more shadows than they eliminated.

“There’s nothing here,” Nina said, striding further into the bay, towing Xiphos in with her. Xiphos did another sweep with her eyes, her ears flicking around in every direction. She eyed the hatch back up to the crew quarters.

“What’s gotten in to you lately?” Nina turned around and pulled Xiphos to her. Xiphos recoiled from Nina’s suddenness, but relaxed when Nina draped her wrists over Xiphos’s shoulders.

“Whaddoyoumean?” Xiphos’s ears dropped.

“I mean,” Nina said, reaching up to play with one of Xiphos’s ears, “you’re panicky lately. Skittery and all that. And what’s this about you thinking I hate you?”

“It’s not…” The cat struggled, and then faltered her words. She pulled her mouth shut tight, keeping her eyes steady on the corners of the room.

“I love you,” Nina said, her voice even, her smile fading away. “Okay?”

Xiphos nodded. A tear welled in the corner of her eyes. Nina brushed it away, and pulled Xiphos into a long hug.

“What’s gotten in to you?”

Xiphos bit her lip. “Yesterday, on the radar-”

A box in the bay tumbled to the floor, teetering on its side before settling. Xiphos shrieked and jumped back, the fur on her neck bristling. She put Nina between herself and the box, holding on to Nina’s shoulders. Nina watched the box, keeping still as the air in the room cleared.

A shadow darted back into the darkened corners of the cargo bay. Nina took off after it. “Hey!” She called. She rounded a corner, catching a glimpse disappearing behind a set of boxes. Nina stopped at the edge of the shadows. She could see the tail again, and again it quickly slipped out of sight. Except, this time there as no place to go. She put her hands on her hips and, stifling a smile said, “Toby.”

There was shuffling around behind the crates. Very slowly, Toby stuck his head out around the edge, watching Nina. His ears flattened against his head.

Nina bit her tongue, holding the laugh back in her muzzle. “Toby, come out here.”

Toby slinked out to Nina, dropping his eyes to her feet.

“Did you knock over the box?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Toby held his hands out in front of himself. “I-”

There was a scream, an angry, concentrated scream, and Toby snapped back off his feet, falling head over heals, and tumbling to a stop in the corner. In his place, Xiphos panted, trying to catch her breath again. She held her hand, flexing it open and closed. She surveyed her work, and then looked up at Nina.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Nina ran to help Toby up.

“He looked bigger in the shadows.” Xiphos dropped her eyes.

Nina sat Toby up. “Come on,” she said, “let’s get Billy to take a look at you.” She helped him to stand, and started to lead him to the stairs. Xiphos followed close behind at first, and then decided it’d be best to help Toby, too.

“What were you doing, Toby?” Nina adjusted her hold on him.

“It’s quiet here,” Toby said, his voice shaky. He looked around, trying to catch his bearing back. “I didn’t mean to knock over the box, I swear!”

“Shhh,” Nina said. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m sure it wasn’t anything important.”

“It’s just that, when I got here, you were… you know, with Xiphos, and I didn’t want to bother you, I just wanted to sit down somewhere, and I kinda pushed the crate off when I sat down-”

“Stop,” Xiphos said. Nina looked up at her, narrowing her eyes.

“Did you say,” Xiphos continued, “you got here after we did?”

“Yes?” Toby said.

Xiphos stopped walking. Nina stopped a few paces out, and steered Toby around to face her.

“I didn’t hear you,” Xiphos said, her eyes getting wider. “I heard people here, I’m sure of it. But not Toby.”

Nina blinked. “Then who was it-?”

The hatch to the engine room slid open, and Tami the Traveler stepped out, holding a wrench in her hand. She was covered in engine grease, and her fur frizzed from the heat.

The three of them, Nina, Toby and Xiphos, froze. They hadn’t been paying attention; they would have noticed the engines had gone silent if they had been paying attention. Now they could hear it, or the lack of it, and they were standing in the audience of the cause.

“Tami?” Toby said, holding the spot on his head where Xiphos had hit him.

“Oh,” she said, looking over all of them. “Hi, kids.”

“What’s going on?” Xiphos said, her ears leveled out. She slowly inched towards the stairwell.

Tami shifted her weight back and forth on her feet. “Look,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Nina asked.

Tami lunged for Xiphos, and struck her across the head with the wrench. Xiphos went down with a yelp, holding her head.

Nina made a break for the stairwell, pulling Toby with her. Tami went after them for a few steps, and then took off into the cargo bay. Next to the stairwell hatch was mounted a big red button on a big yellow box. Nina pounded her fist on it. “Stay here!” She said to Toby, and pushed him against the wall.

The Rose erupted with the mechanical wail of an alert. A calm, assuring woman informed the crew that “an alert has been sounded in the cargo bay.” She repeated in two other languages.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Toby peeked around the corner. Patel jumped the last section of stairs, and bounded through the hatch. He followed the same path as Tami, curving into the depths of the cargo bay.

“Over here!” Tami shouted. A crate splintered open somewhere in the darkness. Nina ran back to Xiphos, sliding to a stop next to her.

Tami and Patel stepped back out from the shadows. Nina stood, facing them. She clenched her fists shut, and started towards them. Toby cried out a panicked, wordless shout. Xiphos feebly lifted her head, blood covering her face. “Nina, don’t!” She tried to stand, and fell again.

The Travelers stopped, keeping some space in between them and Nina. Tami rolled what looked like a parchment up, and slid it into a tube. Patel glanced over at her, and then back at Nina. He locked eyes with her. He stepped forward. Nina didn’t budge. Tami slung the tube over her shoulder and broke into a run at Nina. Patel followed.

“Out of the way, girl!” Patel shouted. Nina took a step forward. Patel swung his fist at her, catching her neck and lifting her off her feet. His free hand guided a knife between her ribs, into her chest. He dropped her, and made a break for the stair well on the far wall.

Xiphos screamed. She struggled to her feet, stumbling into a run. Toby froze against the wall. Heavy footsteps echoed in the stair well. Tre sprinted into the cargo bay. Xiphos pointed up the other stairwell. Tre growled and, picking up speed, climbed the stairs.

Xiphos knelt over Nina. She pushed down hard on Nina’s wound. Nina whimpered against the pain, and Xiphos spoke down to her, tears running down her cheeks. Toby couldn’t hear what either was saying. He waited for Billy. Billy would fix this. Toby looked back up at the button, and next to it was an intercom. He grabbed it and fumbled it on.

“Hurry,” he said. “Nina’s hurt.” His voice echoed through out the Rose.

Billy reached the bottom just as Toby finished, his medical bag in hand. He was at her side immediately. Xiphos opened the bag and began handing Billy tools. They worked almost silently. Xiphos only spoke when Nina cried out. She leaned down and kissed Nina on the cheek. Toby was sure he heard Xiphos say, “you’ll be okay… please…”

Nina’s breathing became shallow. She grabbed Xiphos’s arm, and Xiphos stroked her ears back. Billy was doing his best to try to stop the bleeding, his and Xiphos’s hands covered in Nina’s blood. He pushed down on the wound, just as Xiphos had done, and Nina cried out again. Her voice was weaker now, her breathing ragged. Cait hit the bottom last, and joined the group. She carried a gun, and Xiphos pointed her to the far stairwell. Cait began to run towards the stairs, just as Tre descended. His hands covered in blood, but he had no Travelers with him.

Toby slid down the wall, covering his head with his hands. Nina whimpered again, weaker still. Billy called for a shot of anesthetic. Nina grew quieter, her breathing still ragged. Billy called for a scalpel. Xiphos pulled up Nina’s shirt, exposing the wound. Toby picked up “internal bleeding” from Billy. They would operate. Cait made herself available. Billy barked orders to Xiphos, to Tre. Nina’s heart rate became erratic, and Billy moved to chest compressions. When Xiphos finally lost her cool, Cait stepped in to relieve her. Nina held tight to Xiphos’s hand. Xiphos kissed it as Billy tried to stabilize her heart.

Nina’s hand slipped out of Xiphos’s.

Nina died.

[g]

Back to Part 017 – Forward to Part 2 Prologue

Back to Part 015 Notes – Forward to Part 017 Notes

We’re getting closer, so close Cait can see it. Just like we talked about last week, we’re less than ten days away from Cait paying off her debt. So now she can worry about things like Toby trying to run off again, and what ever the Travelers are up to. Oh, and apparently Burian Lake is lurking again, but that’s not been confirmed.

Also, Nina has a talk with Xiphos, though that happened out of our range of hearing. But given how emotionally tired Nina looked afterwards, you can bet it was a little intense. No dumping, let me assure you, just Nina telling Xiphos to stop acting like a dick to Toby.

The passport Toby got, by the way, was a Molynuex Island passport. It helps when you have your own sovereign nation that you can pretty much say who you please is a citizen. So now that Toby has a passport, he’s going to try to run home. And Cait wants to stop him.

I suppose this takes us back to whether Cait has saved Toby, or just re-kidnapped him from someone else. Clearly, Cait thinks what she is doing is right, but she won’t let him leave. What does that mean?

Well, have at it. Did I miss anything this week? As always, any of your questions or comments are totally welcome.

[g]

Back to Part 015 Notes – Forward to Part 017 Notes

Back to Part 006 Notes

In which we meet pirates.

I hate to do this, but there’s so much to talk about with the pirates that is going to have to wait. We’ll discover a lot more about them later. But for right now, Burian Lake broke a guys arm and stab said guy in the back with his own knife.

There’s also a little hint here about the Molyneux family. But as to why Lake thinks the Molyneux boat would be a “challenge” will have to be discussed later.

I do want to make a confession, though.

Milly and I were talking the other day, and she mentioned Whale Wars on Animal Planet. Look it up if you’re curious about it. Anyway, she made the remark that the boat looked so cramped, and that she couldn’t ever live that life. And I had to concede that, yeah, the Rose is a little more open than it should be. Problem is, the Rose suffers from sci-fi ship design syndrome, where all science fiction ships are open and spacious, and everyone has a stateroom to themselves (Serenity’s rooms may have been a little closer to reality, but the guest quarters were still pretty big). Part of it was that the Rose had been designed for luxury travel, hence the guest quarters being spacious and made of such fine materials.

I’m sure there’s a trope for this. EDIT at 10:11 PST, @758 FOUND IT! Starship Luxurious.

It doesn’t hurt that Cait’s crew is so small now. It would have felt a lot more cramped with more people. But that too is a discussion for another day.

As always, questions, comment, always welcome are.

[g]

Back to Part 006 Notes

Back to Part 006 – Forward to Part 008

If he had wanted, Captain Burian Lake could have made his presence known the moment his boat entered the harbor of Port Rival, in the Barbarros Islands. He could have taken control of the dormant little fishing town with little effort, if he had wanted. He was known to raid the vaults of the great merchant ships as they were being loaded. He could take his place at the mayor’s desk in city hall, and have the city council bring him their treasury on silver platters. They would do this because they knew Burian Lake tended to, liked to, leave a trail of dead wherever he went. Because Burian Lake could kill without thinking, without feeling. Without a second thought.

If he had wanted.

But tonight, no one knew of his arrival, and the dock hand was paid well to keep the mooring quiet. The crew on board The Decline of Civilization stayed inside, engines ready and waiting for Lake to get back.

Lake strolled along the streets of the little village until he found the place he was looking for, the city tavern, the Diving Gull. He stepped inside.

The Diving Gull had all of the little nuances of a place that tolerated pirates: low lighting, plentiful drink, placed visibly behind the bar, and lots of little corners and rooms to discuss matters at hand. The clientele were not all pirate, Lake noted. A few colonial guards from Grand Barbarros had mixed in, sitting – wisely – with their backs to the wall, as close to the doors as they could get. They looked nervous, but if they had survived as long as they had up until this point — Lake made a quick tally of the glasses on their table — the worst that would happen to them now would be getting conned out of their uniforms in a game of cards. But they talked to no one but the barkeep, and no one treated them better than everyone would have otherwise.

Lake approached the bar, and pointed to a shiny bottle on the top shelf. The barkeep poured him a glass, and very quickly refused Lake’s gold. His money was no good. Lake pushed the gold piece to the keep. He insisted. He had honor, it was right to pay an honest, hardworking man. The keep pushed the gold piece back to Lake. “Please. You are our honored guest.” His voice trembled when he spoke. He added, “…sir.”

Lake accepted. He stood at the bar — the barkeep saw fit to suddenly invest his attention at the other end of the bar — and made a quick scan of the room. Little groups from several clans were scattered around the tables. Most hung together, each of them wearing their respective clan symbols. Lake could see Barbarros natives, a lion fish emblazoned on their hats or shoulders, sitting in the far corner. They were the most relaxed, leaning back in their chairs, the empty stout bottles of Ambassador Beer, a local favorite, collecting on their table. A couple members of Finley’s clan had started up a game of cards, distinguished by the silhouette of a rooster on their shoulders, and pulled in some of the present members of the Kriegers clan, mashed together in their red, white and black clan colors. There were a few clans that prowled around the Northern Chain, from Lat controlled waters to Ysa-controlled waters, their symbols too unimportant and numerous to Captain Lake’s eyes. And over in a booth, Lake spotted who he was looking for: the Information Traders.

He took a seat in their booth, making them scoot over as he sat down. The leader of the Information Traders stopped mid-sentence, rolling his gaze over to Captain Lake. Lake leaned back, finished his drink, and set it noisily down in front of them. The leader watched him through slitted eyes. Lake watched back. The leader said, “Can I help you?”

Lake tilted his head. “I’m looking for information.”

The leader waved him away. “We’re not selling right now.” He turned back to his crew and started talking again. It was a moment before he realized Captain Lake hadn’t moved, still leaned back in the booth, eyes still fixed on the leader. One of the clansmen’s eyes suddenly grew larger, and he stopped his captain. The leader turned around.

“What is it?”

“I’m waiting.” Captain Lake tilted his head again, still staring down the captain.

“We’re not selling. Now leave.”

The clansman, perhaps a first or second hand, leaned forward and whispered something to his leader. The leader brushed him away.

Captain Lake stayed still.

“Very well,” the leader said. He shot a glance over Lake’s shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

“A package. Rumored to be a painting.

“Do you know how many get moved like that every day-”

“This one’s special,” Lake started. He shifted suddenly, stepping out of the booth as another member of the clan stepped up next to him. The clansman held a knife, ready to stab at Lake. Captain Lake stepped around him, grabbing his arm and pulling it back with a loud, nauseating crack before, almost gently, guiding the knife into the clansman’s shoulder. The clansman screamed, and Captain Lake pushed him down on to the table, holding his hand, and the knife, behind his back.

Captain Lake surveyed his work, and then looked up at the information traders. “This one’s special,” he continued. “I’m talking about Ebe’s Map.”

The leader of the information traders watched, mouth open, a tiny sound of terror escaping. “You’re … you’re Burian Lake.”

“Captain Lake,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be in the South Ocean-”

“The map, captain,” Lake growled.

The leader nodded. He turned to his first mate, who produced a very large book. They opened it on the table as best they could, wedging the book against their clan brother, and started flipping through pages. Charts and cyphers were produced, pages consulted, back to the charts, and then, settling on a figure, they chose what looked like a completely random page. The first mate read off a string of numbers, and one last page flip.

“The map,” the leader started, holding a trembling piece of paper, “Ebe’s Map, was known to be in Lat as of a few days ago. A dock hand recorded it leaving from Port Haven, but she was unable to ascertain its destination.”

Lake grunted. The man underneath his grip whimpered against the knife.

“HOWEVER,” the leader said, watching his crew member, “we know it’s on a boat — which boat it’s on.”

“Go on.”

“It’s owned by a Molyneux.”

A slow creeping smile spread across Lake’s muzzle. “Sounds like a challenge. What’s the name?”

The leader wrote the name on a piece of paper and handed it to Captain Lake. Lake appraised it.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you I’ll be back for your services again if this leads to a wrong ship.”

The leader swallowed hard. “Of course not.”

Lake let go of the clansman and tucked the paper in his pocket. “Pleasure,” he said. He looked down at the clansman on the floor. “Your crewman is injured. You should see about that.”

Burian took his leave.

When he was far enough away from the tavern, he broke into a giggle, and then a full out laugh. His laughter followed him all the way to the docks.

Back to Part 006 – Forward to Part 008