In a world full of floating islands, sky pirates, exiled magicians, and Pokémon, peace is difficult to maintain.
Shaymin, kind Pokémon who'd guided travelers once man learned how to fly, were hunted to extinction for their Gracideas: magical flowers...
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Slap.
August inhaled sharply, gritting her teeth to halt a curse threatening to burst from her lips. The blow left a stinging sensation on her burning cheek. This time her skin was left unscratched and free from bleeding—Calico wasn't wearing her bulky rings. August hated hand jewelry.
The violent captain offered no apology as she ranted at the first mate, barking, "I told you not to kill 'em."
"When?" August asked, crossing her arms across her chest. "You said we give no quarters."
Calico scowled; she must've forgotten her own words, August figured. This spiked her irritation more than it should've. Had she no care for her life, August would've smacked Calico back.
The heterochromatic-eyed woman brushed off the reminder, returning, "Didn't you 'ear that slave labor is popular now? We could've sold that crew for twice the amount o' their Pokémon..."
August gave half an ear to what Calico ranted about. Wes mentioned once that he was the one who suggested they sold off Pokémon to the market rather than killing them alongside their masters. August struggled to imagine what it'd be like selling humans in the same fashion as Pokémon. Were they kept in similar cages? Auction squares were places she loathed visiting in port towns.
She noticed Calico's lecture had ceased and lied, "I'm sorry."
"You best be sorry," Calico said. She sighed and readjusted her hat so it didn't dip into her vision. "There wasn't anythin' worthwhile on that dingy. A complete waste o' time."
The captain muttered insults at the S.S. Last Hope and began to mark her map. It was a large parchment stretching across two desks, displaying all of Caelum. From hidden port towns to navy routes, the Zoroark's Deceit harbored secrets of all kinds. Violet ink—forced courtesy from an Inkay—colored where they sailed themselves. August faintly noted how the ship sailed in a zigzag pattern.
The runaway covered a startled gasp with a throaty cough as a flurry of jabs pummeled her backside. Inside the knapsack slung over her shoulder, Gracie flailed wildly as to remind the pirate of her existence.
August's hands inched toward her bag then halted; a secondary plan struck her. Handing a Shaymin over to Calico guaranteed the captain recognizing her worth and letting her live easily until her next major blunder. Perhaps she'd even receive a lesser punishment. But if she kept Gracie herself and sold her personally, she could pocket the earnings and... leave.
"Oi, Gold. Pay attention," Calico scolded, breaking August from the reverie. A dangerous glare befell Calico's strong features as she straightened from her position hunched over the table and nodded at the sack. "What's that?"
"This?" August cracked a grin, smothering the dread creeping into her system. She shrugged. "It's what you expect, Captain."
