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  Ketch

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  Ketch wasn’t the type of girl who enjoyed someone throwing an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t like it. It made her scales crawl to be held down, to be pinned in her seat by someone she didn’t trust. She’d gotten somewhat used to it thanks to Sara, who loved to make her squirm, but that had only ever been one arm. Not two. And certainly not an arm on either side, from two different women.

  Unfortunately, it seemed she exuded a certain energy which attracted the touchy-feely sort.

  “I just don’t see why you have to leave so soon,” the woman on Ketch’s right drawled, her breath leaking wisps of smoke with every word. The catfolk had been emanating a gentle, rumbling purr from her chest from the first moment her side had pressed up against Ketch’s, and it did odd things to the clouds of pipe smoke which she constantly exhaled. Ketch tried to keep her attention on the way the little tendrils went to join the greater haze on the ceiling, rather than her cramped predicament in the back of the broken bar.

  “You just got here a little bit ago,” the human woman on her left agreed, pressing even harder into Ketch’s side. She was more muscur than her catfolk companion, and she seemed even less inclined to respect Ketch’s personal space.

  “I wasn’t pnning to stay for long,” Ketch murmured, flicking an eye towards the closest window. It was so te in the night that it had become early, and it wouldn’t be long until the sun rose. She needed to be gone from this pirate den before then.

  It should have been easy. Just a little walk through the jungle until she found a clear stretch of beach for her to observe the pirate cove, report what she saw, and then she’d be away. Her mom was already on her way back home.

  But then, just as she’d been slipping away, Sara had called in with a question: were there any civilians?

  Ketch didn’t know, of course. She’d hidden in the water and in the jungle, invisible in the shadows. The barest shadow was enough to hide her, and the jungle provided plenty. The cove itself was a different story, cramped and decorated with glowing torches. The pirates had built their little hovel out of scavenged wood with the bor of drunken ship carpenters, creating something that could just barely be considered livable. And it wasn’t like Sara’s concerns weren’t valid. Even if it wasn’t connected to anything overnd, people could still arrive to provide certain services. With a half dozen pirate ships there there would almost certainly be a few prostitutes and bar workers. Whether or not they were just members of the crew who’d taken up the occupation was less clear. The question was if there were other workers, captured sailors or opportunistic business owners, that didn’t deserve whatever Nora was going to do to this poor town.

  So Ketch had wandered into the vilge, casually walking up out of the sea. She’d had to. There was nowhere to skulk in the pirate vilge, where every wall was porous enough to slip an arm through. Per Sara’s advice, she’d pretended to be an Azarketi girl asking after food for a human child. Purely azarketi children ate raw fish from the day they were born, but the child of an azarketi and human still had to breastfeed. Ketch didn’t pretend that she was the one with child; she said it was her sister, who was only weeks away from giving birth, hence her urgency. She’d even hinted that she was interested in finding passage to a city where a wet nurse might be found if a ship was avaible, since her ‘sister’ wouldn’t be able to swim well in her ninth month of pregnancy.

  It had been a good story, she thought. A good cover. Sellie, who had been watching through her eyes, even praised her for the way she lied, saying it was very believable.

  How, exactly, she ended up in a bar being manhandled by two women? Ketch wasn’t sure. She’d wandered around the cove for a bit, easily pying the naive girl that she actually was, until falling into a chat with the two women. There had been a long conversation of half-hidden hints that she really hadn’t picked up on, mostly because she was too busy trying to keep her story straight, then all of the sudden she was in the bar and had been for several hours.

  They’re not vampires again, are they?

  Ketch inspected the two women’s faces, looking for the signs that she knew so well from Noctie. There was nothing in the human’s face that would suggest she was a vampire. Ketch didn’t know what a vampiric catfolk would look like, but the woman on her right seemed innocent enough, as well.

  Not innocent, Ketch corrected herself, feeling the woman’s sheathed dagger press up against her thigh. Just not a vampire. Which is good.

  Sara always said Ketch was terrible at resisting mind control, which she’d spent months denying. Sure, she hadn’t ever resisted it successfully, but what did that mean? It was mind control. It was supposed to make you do things. Hardly her fault if she went along with it. She’d tried resisting it before, with three separate women. Between Sara’s Gift of Lust, Noctie’s eyes, and Sellie’s control of her, fighting back never did anything worthwhile. It just meant that she spent more time not giving in, floating away on a zy current of thoughtless bliss. Maybe if Sara actually let herself get trapped in Noctie’s spiraling, endless eyes, she’d understand. That red glow that pulsed in time with her heart. Maybe if she felt the way her thoughts slowed down, blood humming in her veins, readying itself to be brought to the skin, put on offer, she’d understand what… was…

  “You alright, kid?” The catfolk asked, snapping her fingers in front of Ketch’s eyes. “You ain’t even had a drink yet.”

  Ketch blinked rapidly, coming back to herself.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, “just tired. I really need to get back to my sister.”

  “Your sister, yeah,” the woman on Ketch’s left said, chuckling. “Got knocked up by some man, then left to flop around on her own. Sad story, that.”

  “She doesn’t have the best judgment,” Ketch agreed, squirming awkwardly. The two women hadn’t backed off in the slightest. If anything, they seemed to be pressing tighter with every passing moment.

  “Met plenty of girls like that,” the catfolk purred. “Mostly when I look in the mirror. And then, of course, there’s the silly little girls that like walking into pces they don’t belong.”

  Ketch ughed nervously. “Must be a pain to deal with them.”

  The two women traded a strange look. The human on her left leaned closer, breath tickling Ketch’s ear.

  “Mm, I don’t know. It can be fun, sometimes. Especially when they look like you do.”

  Oh.

  Oh, they figured out I’m lying.

  Thank goodness.

  Ketch activated a Skill, blurring forward. Fifteen levels in a Css built for sneaking and escaping had left her with more abilities than she knew what to do with, and this one, Urgent Retreat, was one among many that she’d rarely used.

  To her, it felt as if she ducked out from under the women’s arms, scrambled on hands and knees under the table, and sprinted across the bar, diving out the door.

  To the women, she had been in their arms one moment, gone the next.

  Ketch burst out into the muddy, torch-lit street, skidding to a stop. She picked a random direction and took off at a dead sprint.

  Angry shouts rose behind her. Most of the ramshackle buildings that had been assembled on the shoreline were filled with sleeping sailors, but not all. Ketch’s would-be-assaints were shouting at the top of their lungs, rousing everyone they could with a furious bout of profanity. Soon the muddy alleyways were filled with bleary-eyed sailors, most of them taking to the streets more out of an interest to compin about all the shouting, rather than apprehend her.

  Off to her left, the barest touches of a brightening sky began to color the world. Ketch had picked a good time to make her escape.

  Once she was out of the immediate area of the bar, Ketch slowed for a moment, orienting herself. There were only a few dozen buildings in the cove, and the rgest of them was where they stored the stolen goods. Ketch darted towards it, racing against the rising sun.

  Dodging through the scattered, drunken sailors was child’s py for her. Even with a Css that entirely forwent combat Skills, the simple fact that Ketch was at her fifteenth Level meant she was faster and more agile than anyone who was so much as capable of noticing her passing. The few individuals that saw her coming were still ughably clumsy in their lunges, trying in vain to pin her down.

  Ketch reached the building she’d been aiming for, a rotten scent filling her nose. She skittered around the edge of the wooden shack, trying to make it look as if she was making a break for the jungle, then dove aside the moment she was out of sight, blowing open the door.

  The awful smell magnified itself a dozen times over as soon as she entered the building, even the shoddy walls proving to have done much to shelter the outside world from the torture inside. There was no light inside, not a torch or candle, and Ketch had to move forward by touch alone, skimming her hands along dozens of haphazardly stacked barrels. The deeper she went, the worse the smell got, until she was pinching her nose shut while her eyes watered.

  Sulfur. Every barrel in this warehouse was filled to the brim with the noxious yellow powder. Before Nora had given the Tulian merchant ships cannons to defend themselves, these pirates had been intercepting thousands of pounds of sulfur. They hadn’t even understood why so much was being shipped to Tulian. They’d just known the Champion of Amarat wanted it, and the Champion of Amarat was probably rich. They’d been holding it hostage for months, sending letters to Tulian via neutral ships. Sara had strung them along, pretending to negotiate over price, delivery, and a million other meaningless things.

  And in a few minutes, the ruse would be up. Through the holes in the wall, Ketch could see the sky brightening. Nora was supposed to begin whatever she had pnned at daybreak, and from her occasional brushes with the woman, Ketch didn’t think she was the sort to calmly talk things out first.

  “I think she went into the warehouse!” A voice called from nearby. The room grew brighter as a door was flung open, boots thumping across the dirt.

  Ketch skittered higher up a pile of barrels, the cws which tipped her webbed fingers easily carrying her to a perch some ten feet above the floor. More people came rushing in, stumbling and cursing in the darkness, but Ketch wasn’t concerned. She was in the darkness now. They couldn’t find her. And no one would dare light a torch, not in here. All she had to do was wait.

  Ketch remained crouched atop the barrel, the only moment of risk coming from her brief whisper into her speaking crystal as she informed Nora of what she’d learned. The sound of the stumbling, half-drunken idiots searching for her was comical, enough to make her ugh, if she hadn’t been hiding. After spending months creeping through the noble houses of Sporatos, she was the farthest thing from concerned about some paltry pirates finding her in what precious few moments they had left.

  As the sun began to creep through the uppermost holes in the walls, a bell began ringing in the distance. There was a scuffle and series of curses from those within the warehouse, then they were gone.

  Time’s up, she thought, smirking.

  Slowly, careful not to tip the precarious tower of sulfur she stood upon, Ketch began to stand. She turned about, pivoting on the tips of her toes, scanning the room. Senses adapted to a life deep beneath the sea left the shadows bare to her, as clear as if there hadn’t been a roof at all. The eastern wall was some ten or fifteen feet away, made of thin, knobbly wood.

  Ketch took a deep breath, then leapt forward.

  She hit the wall with a dull thump, the cws of her hands and feet piercing the soggy wood. She scrambled up it on all fours, the tik-tik-tik of her feet just loud enough that she hadn’t risked it earlier, then paused briefly at the pnked ceiling.

  She reached and dug her fingers into the wood. With a sharp jerk, she pulled the board free, allowing her to rip the next few pieces down, and then she was crawling through, emerging onto the roof.

  Fresh, non-sulfurous air filled her lungs. She scooted to the side so she could lean back on the unbroken boards with a sigh of relief, clearing her nose of the awful stench. Then she leant forward, watching the panic unfold below.

  A ship was drifting in with the tide, and it was close. Far closer than it should have been allowed to approach without being noticed, but with its sails furled, the night dark, and no oars to make a sound, no one could have known. Its hull was solid bck, save for one white stripe which sshed it in two, a bold stroke that highlighted the mouths of two dozen gray, menacing muzzles.

  The ship’s sails began to fall as Ketch settled in to watch, the great curtains seeming somehow even darker than the hull as they blotted out the rising sun. Sunlight began to drip down the canopy of the nearby jungle, washing them in cheerful yellow, but the sun didn’t visit the cove. One ship stood alone, casting a shadow over the entire bay.

  The panic only grew as people as reality began to set in. As they realized what the ship was.

  They’d heard stories of the bck fgship which had sughtered Sporaton Magecraft, of course, but no one believed it. It was too fanciful a tale. Too ridiculous. Even after the pirates had faced down cannon-armed merchant ships, had been soundly beaten back by them, they still refused to believe anything could really challenge a Magecraft. Pirates knew Magecraft, after all. They were the bogeymen spoken of in hushed whispers, a sailor’s worst nightmare. Pirates didn’t operate in the same waters as Magecraft. That was suicide. Every sailor worth their salt knew that. Hells, Ketch knew that, and she’d barely stepped foot on a ship.

  Which made her wonder what it meant to them when a Magecraft-killer was barreling down on them.

  One of the pirate ships proved more alert than most. Its rowers were at the oars less than a minute after the arm had been rung, and with one great cry and the crash of a drum, they began to heave their way out of their dock.

  Sellie, Ketch called, reaching out across the miles which separated them. Do you want to watch?

  The great presence of the witch swooped in, settling into Ketch’s bones like a warm breeze in the dead of winter. Ketch shivered as she felt her eyes begin to dart from side to side, her girlfriend taking her body from her.

  Ketch rexed even further into herself, letting out a great sigh that her body did not mirror. It tired Sellie to be so close to Ketch from so far away, but in this moment, it was worth it. Her other self had only seen cannons through memory, never in person. Her fingers curled in excitement, posture stiffening, an unhealthy green tinge flushing beneath her scales. Sellie had curled themselves into a ball, panting excitedly.

  Ketch let her mind drift away from her body, ceding herself in favor of snuggling deeper into the curled cws of a witch, watching the dim windows of her eyes grow evermore distant. She felt a hum rumble through all she was.

  She was a good pdog.

  A good guppy.

  Sellie watched the Waverake sail into the bay, scraping perilously close to the southern shore. The creature at the helm was a skilled one. Too skilled, she sometimes thought. She did not like allowing it in the waters above her home. For a time, only her guppy’s fondness for the thing and its companions had kept Selliana from challenging it for the right to dwell above her home.

  Circumstances had been altered. Now she allowed it to stay because she was not sure if she would be wise to challenge it. It was an irritance, a boil which became more painful to nce with each day she had left it festering.

  She could not deny that the thing had a fine hand on its wooden home, however.

  The Waverake.

  The name tasted of power. The ship had not been given its title thoughtlessly. It was a considered thing, a decision given no small amount of import. Selliana did not know if the fvor on her tongue was borne of the fear the ship inspired or the hopes which drove it, not yet, but she was eager to learn.

  The Waverake slid along the shoals, just barely avoiding the rocks which would tear her hull open, then swung aside, ashen sails raising and shifting in concert to take the wind with the best possible stride.

  The fools which had ridden out to meet it were well beyond their fellows by then, racing to meet the beast in open water. The prow of the great ship began to tilt towards them, degree by painful degree, and she saw many of the rowers in the vessel abandon their duties to duck low, hands over their heads.

  They were not as foolish as the others. It was a shame that they would die like them.

  Two puffs of white cloud emerged from the maw of the Waverake, followed a short moment ter by the great thwoom of detonating powder caressing her guppy’s ears. The concussion caused some pain, which she soothed away as she always did, while what little gss which had been in the pitiable bay shattered with a sympathetic crash.

  Bodies broke. Two iron spheres ripped through the smaller vessel from stem to stern, carrying away heads, chests, and limbs alike. A great wailing of pain and terror emerged, and this, too, she began to take from her guppy’s ears, for it was not a good sound for the sensitive to know.

  But then she felt Ketch prod at her mind, the barest bit of resistance, accompanied by a flicker of memory. Of cannons fired by the half-dozen, bouncing through walls of men and women.

  Her guppy was not so sensitive as she’d once been, it seemed. Selliana acquiesced, leaving the pain for her to hear. She was proud of her.

  The smaller vessel drifted aimlessly as what few crew who were still able leapt overboard, swimming for the shore. The Waverake completed its turn unmolested, pointing its side at the decrepit vestiges which had called this pce home. It waited for the time to be right, its great bulk dragged through the waves by its own weight, until the first of its cannons aligned itself with the vessels which had not yet finished preparing themselves to unch.

  This first cannon roared, the boom as loud and filled with smoke as the first, and another iron ball tore through flesh and wood. The Waverake continued its slow crawl until the next cannon was in line.

  The cloud grew.

  Sellie bent an arm back to stroke her guppy’s neck as she watched the procession continue, a funeral dirge’s bells rung by the bckest of powders. One ship was shattered, then two, then three, and then the cannons were aimed upward, sending their fury into the primitive shelters beyond. A second row of cannons joined the first, lit from the highest deck exposed to the sky, and soon Selliana lost sight of the Waverake behind a miasma of whirling white. She counted twenty cracks, twenty shots fired, and then the ship silenced itself. All that remained to fill the air was the agonal groans of the dead and dying.

  In time the wind blew the cloud aside, revealing that the Waverake had completed its turn, its stern towards her now, sails adjusted to help it return to the sea which had borne it in.

  Selliana retreated, restoring her guppy’s body in small pieces, to ease the return. The creature at the helm of the Waverake clearly considered its job completed.

  Selliana could not disagree; the spirits of those who remained were as shattered as the bodies of their friends and families. The Champion could come collect her due whenever desired, and not a one of the fetid survivors would dare raise a hand against her.

  Thank you, dear, Selliana whispered as she retreated, removing her self from the left hand st, so she could csp her guppy’s right palm for just a moment longer. It was a fine show you brought me to. I look forward to your return.

  Ketch blinked her eyes, working out the dryness. Sellie never remembered to blink. She’d spent far too much of her life underwater to maintain the habit.

  Ketch slid down the roof, dropping to the ground with a thud. She began jogging towards the sea, using the drifting clouds of gunsmoke to hide from the sight of anyone who was still left standing after the apocalyptic broadside. It was a testament to the terror the attack had inspired that she saw many pirates fleeing into the jungle with as much they could carry, a suicide more certain than any knife through the throat. Even Ketch didn’t wander through the trees unless absolutely necessary.

  As the Waverake broke the line which marked the small bay, two sails appeared on the horizon, painted white. They were heading in under power of wind and oar, and Ketch could just barely make out the green and white pennants that Nora used to mark the Tulian Navy’s ships. It seemed they were here to collect the prisoners and goods, while the fgship sailed off to do better things.

  Ketch slipped into the water a moment ter, enjoying the coolness of the sea. Once submerged, it was a simple matter to follow the Waverake out. In a matter of minutes she was crawling up onto the deck, apologizing to the woman who’d been startled half to death by her sudden appearance.

  “Ah, there you are,” a voice called from the helm. Ketch gnced over and was surprised to find not Nora, but a catfolk man, her second in command. Castan, she thought his name was. “The Captain asked that you join her and First Sergeant Ignite in the stateroom if you happened to catch us before our departure.”

  “Uh. Sure?” Ketch still wasn’t sure how to deal with the formality of normal society, much less the rigid structure of a navy. She’d hopped more than a few rides on ships before, whether the crew knew it or not, but the almost alien culture they developed after months of isotion had never quite sunk into her skull. “Should I go now, or…?”

  “Yes, that would be best,” Castan said. “It hasn’t been long. I doubt you will have missed much.”

  Ketch nodded, doing her best to shake off water as she made her way down to the captain’s cabin. She’d attended meetings with Sara there plenty of times before, so she was familiar with the space.

  She slid the door open silently, stepping into the room. Her scales immediately raised at what greeted her: only Ignite and Nora. Sara’s two most trusted members of the Navy, without anyone else to listen in.

  “Ah, Ketch!” Nora said, waving her forward. “Good timing, good timing. Was just about to start talkin’ with the good folk back in Tulian.”

  “I didn’t expect you to start sailing away like that,” Ketch said, taking a seat at the table beside Ignite. Nora’s prosthetic had been tossed on the table, the stump of her leg resting beside it as she massaged a clear cream into the tender flesh. “I didn’t want to swim all the way back by myself.”

  “Ah, I knew ye’d catch up,” Nora said, dismissing Ketch’s concern with a flick of her fingers. She shifted her hips in her chair, leaning aside to take out her communication crystal. She set it on the table, but didn’t activate it. It looked like she was… procrastinating, almost.

  Ketch gnced at Ignite. The oil-skinned man was sitting ramrod-straight in his chair, looking directly ahead. He was nervous, and that made Ketch nervous.

  “Uh, Nora?” She asked. “What’s going on? Why were you in such a hurry?”

  “Ah, you’ll see in a moment,” the captain said. She spent a little bit longer finishing up the treatment of her leg, then picked the communication crystal up, a cocky grin on her face.

  “Sara?” Nora asked. “Nora here, reportin’ that yer pirate problem’s dealt with.”

  There was a brief pause, and then a rustle.

  “Excellent,” Evie’s voice replied. Nora raised an eyebrow as the feline spoke. As a captain who might spend weeks or months away from Tulian, Nora had a crystal with a direct connection to Sara’s own, bypassing the communication network. She hadn’t expected Evie to answer. “Did you encounter any difficulties?”

  “Not a one,” Nora said, taking the unexpected conversation partner in stride. Ketch supposed it wasn’t that odd for Evie to have Sara’s crystal. It was just past dawn, and Sara was hardly an early riser. “Got two ships headin’ in to collect anyone interested in surrenderin’, and they’ll be hauling all the sulfur back with ‘em.”

  “Good. We look forward to your return to the capital.”

  Nora’s smile grew while Ignite stiffened further. Ketch’s breath caught in her throat.

  “About that.” Nora leaned back, throwing her other leg up on the table. “Not sure how long it’ll take for me to get back. Sailing’s a tricky thing, y’see.”

  “Oh?”

  Evie’s single word, little more than a hum of interest, dripped vitriolic acid.

  “Got lots of things to do out on the sea.” Nora twisted the crystal in her palm, inspecting its many facets. “Some might take a while. Who knows how long?”

  “My wife will be having our child any day now.”

  What? Ketch thought, bewildered.

  Nora’s brows furrowed. Ketch looked at Ignite for an expnation, but he seemed just as confused.

  “Beg yer pardon?” Nora asked.

  “Likely within the week,” Evie continued, as if Nora hadn’t spoken. “She is known to be pregnant by a great number of people, including our enemies. The city is well defended, but your ship currently carries as many cannons as the rest of our military combined.”

  “That’s-”

  “You will return to the capital, Admiral O’Gallison.”

  Nora’s expression firmed.

  “Don’t think ye understand just how things are shaping up here, Evie.” Nora brought the crystal closer to her lips, dropping her voice low. “Y’can’t catch me. I’ve saved yer city, and now I’m taking my hard-earned leave. There are things I’ve meant to do fer as long as I’ve lived, things that this ship will finally let me do. The sort that’s more important than pying flunkey to a Champion.”

  “Do you think my wife is ignorant of your intentions?” Evie scoffed. “Don’t be a fool. You haven’t a fraction of the subtlety required to deceive her. She knows you intended to flee the city. She cks the knowledge of this world to understand exactly what you intend to do, but I do not. Ignite?”

  The marine sergeant started. He hadn’t said a word, but it seemed Evie had correctly assumed he would be present. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “She intends to shatter the Locks of the Sea, does she not?”

  Nora gred at the marine. His mouth opened and closed silently, unable to formute a response.

  “Risponda al domanda, Sergente,” Evie snapped.

  “Sì, Amministratore,” Ignite reflexively answered, the words flying out before his mind could catch up. Then he bnched, staring at Nora as he cleared his throat. “That is. Ah. Yes, ma’am. She does.”

  “Your god ordered those locks built, Nora.”

  “Times have changed,” the captain growled, her irritation beginning to show. “The beasts in the true ocean rage and seeth at the gates, and this pitiful little puddle I’ve been trapped in isn’t enough for the legend I’m to become. I’ll break them open, Evie. Y’can’t stop me. Nothing can.”

  “Once again, you fail to understand me, Admiral. I couldn’t care less what ancient power you see fit to enrage. I only care when you do it. If you wish to fight the church of the god you worship, you’ll be free to do so. But only once you do your duty.”

  “Or what?” Nora demanded. “I’ve everything you don’t. There’s not a ship in the world which can stand shoulder to shoulder with the Waverake.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up already, Nora.”

  The room fell deathly, eerily silent.

  “You think you can face her? Face my wife?” Evie ughed, a furious cackle. “Run if you’d like, Nora. Go py your games, win your battles, abandon these people. I’m certain you’ll make quite a show of it. You’ll become a legend, like you’ve always dreamed. But you’ll do it in that ship you have here and now. But you’ve seen what she knows. What lurks inside her and her father’s mind. By the time you’ve truly begun to make something of yourself, I’ll have ordered the construction of something which will swat aside whatever pathetic fleet you’ve assembled like gnats.”

  “As if Sara would ever turn against me,” Nora scoffed. “Y’said it yerself, Evie. She trusts me. I’ll do what I please, come back, and she’ll welcome me into the fold again, happy as could be. She needs me, after all.”

  “If you flee Tulian without my wife’s permission, I will have you shot dead like a common criminal.”

  Ketch’s heart was pounding. She had never heard this side of Evie. She’d seen her fight, seen her take charge in moments of chaos, but she hadn’t seen this. Cold and emotionless.

  Nora took a moment to gather her thoughts. “She’d never give such an order,” she eventually said, speaking slowly.

  “But I will.”

  “Ye already said that she knows I’m pnning to leave, and she hasn’t said a thing about it yet. If she hasn’t voiced a word of protest to me, why should I believe you’ve that kind of influence over her?”

  “I am her wife. I will not ask her to do it; I will order her. And as I am her wife, she will do as I say.” There was the sound of a pen scraping across paper, as if Evie was handling paperwork even in the midst of this horrific conversation. “I admire you, Nora. You are a competent, driven woman, and a powerful ally. But Sara is too trusting, too comfortable relying upon chance and circumstance. I am not. You will return directly to Tulian, where you will stay until our child is born. During the interim, you will expin your pns in detail to my wife, who will use her talents to devise an appropriate story which will result in the Republic not being implicated in what will undoubtedly be the countless crimes committed on your journey. Your erraticism is already well known among the various nations. It will be simple enough to convince the world that you are acting of your own accord.”

  “And if I don’t show up?”

  “Then you will run amok for a handful of years, only to die a sudden and horrible death without ever comprehending the nature of the weapon which killed you.”

  It was taking all Ketch had to not sprint out of the room, diving into the ocean for safety. Ignite’s chair was groaning under the pressure of his curled knuckles, while a deep, furious scowl was pstered across Nora’s face.

  Then, without warning, Nora broke into a wide grin.

  “Ah, alright then,” she said, ughing. “Shouldn’t be more than a day or two ‘till I’m back, winds depending. I take it I’m not to whisper a word of this conversation to Sara?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Understood, Steward. If there’s a dey on the trip back, I’ll keep ye appraised.”

  “Do so.”

  There was the sound of the crystal being shoved back into a bag, and then all fell silent. Only the sound of the ocean pping against the hull and the crew shuffling above.

  Nora stood and stretched, bancing on her lone leg as she raised her arms over her head with a groan. Ignite and Ketch were left petrified, staring at the woman.

  “Ah, that’s nice,” Nora sighed, turning to Ketch. “You’ve spent time in Evie’s bed, haven’t ye, Ketch?”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After all that, that was what Nora wanted to ask her? A furious blush roared up Ketch’s cheeks as her mind all but screamed at her to deny it, but it wasn’t as if her involvement with Sara and her wives was any great secret.

  “I-I have,” Ketch stuttered.

  “I haven’t.” Nora grabbed her prosthetic, dropping it to the deck. “Only ever spent my time with Sara. Startin’ to think that was a mistake. Damn fine woman, that feline.” She settled her leg into the metal divot, tying it in pce. “Damn fine. She as rough with you in bed as she was with me right there?”

  “Um.” Ketch thought of all the times she and Evie had id side by side, all but sobbing as they begged the Champion to coat them in her cum. “Not… really?” She squeaked out.

  Nora eyed Ketch, then chuckled. “Ah, makes sense. Wouldn’t be, with yer sort. Bet I could drag it out of her, though.” Nora walked around the table, cpping Ignite on the shoulder as she headed towards the exit. “And I bet yer relieved, eh First Sergeant? Nothin’ to worry about for yer loyalties now.”

  Ketch stared at Ignite as Nora left. His midnight skin couldn’t go pale, but his expression told her that if he was able, he would have been ashen-skinned.

  Nora disappeared through the door without a care in the world.

  “Gods,” Ignite muttered, running his hands through his hair.

  “Yeah.”

  “I do not wish to see those women come to blows.”

  “I… don’t think they’re going to, uh… fight,” Ketch said.

  “So it would seem,” he sighed.

  They sat in silence, absorbing the moment. Eventually, Ketch stirred, making her way out of the nearly empty stateroom. As she went, her thoughts began to wander to the st part of the conversation. Of Evie and Nora together, sharing a bed.

  Ketch shivered.

  I wonder if they’ll let me watch?