Beneath The Endless Sky

Meet Cruelty With Darker Malice

The wind was cold, this far from the great isles. Vincent could feel it in every breath, even if it didn't sink through his coat, or bite much at his neck through his scarf. Cold, like breathing the runoff from one of the glacial drifts that occasionally formed in the distant black skies. It was an easy thing to ignore, as long as you had something to do.

But when there was nothing left but the wait, as he stood in the middle of the Sunward Matilda's deck, watching a warship slow as it came alongside them, the cold was hard to ignore.

"You nervous, captain?" Leslie asked, with a pointed glance down at Vincent's hands. His left hand was on his sword, fingers on the scabbard, with his thumb on the guard, ready to push it apart and begin to draw. His right was halfway under his coat, resting on the now empty holster of his pistol.

Vincent's gun, like Leslie's, was tied to a nearby railing with a bit of string. When he had commanded a military ship, he would have expected the ship's marines to disarm anyone they encountered on a situation like this, but only the guns. Swords and knives were unlikely to be useful against a dozen flintlocks.

"Might be. A lot of this plan depends on how reasonable the ship captain is," Vincent admitted. "I rather doubt we can claim the Matilda as salvage, but the charter and the risk of a diplomatic incident should be enough to let us keep the lenses, and keep us out of prison."

"That's a lot of uncertainty, captain," Leslie noted.

"And compound that with the fact that we're outnumbered about a hundred to one, standing at point-blank range of a forty gun broadside that will all be loaded with canister shot," Vincent noted.

"Not helping, captain."

"You can go back to the ship, and lock yourself inside with Anita," Vincent offered. "Under the circumstances, I'd prefer it. It's easy to be forgotten from inside prison, and quite a bit harder if people from outside are petitioning the authorities on your behalf."

"Not a chance, captain," Leslie said, cracking his neck. The sound was remarkably similar to the sound the Banshee's turntable made when it started. "No one's left to face the enemy alone."

"Just remember they aren't the enemy yet," Vincent reminded him, as gratitude helped ward off the cold. "But thanks."

The Olenican ship made her final turn, coming alongside and matching the Matilda's drift. This close, the warship was a formidable sight. As tall as a four storey building, longer than most city blocks, two decks of guns, the ire of nearly a hundred gunners, were all now pointing at him and the ship he stood on.

A dozen grey-clad marines went over the sides first. Two of them went over with rope, to secure their ship to the Matilda, while the other ten approached with their weapons pointed at Vincent and Leslie.

Vincent raised his hands, as he looked from face to face, trying to identify the squad's officer. It only took a moment, and as the marines approached he gave the sergeant a raised eyebrow and a disappointed frown. "Keep a dozen feet back, and kindly point your guns the deck. Asides from that, I'm quite content to wait for your captain."

"I am Sergeant Reginald Opesia, of the Olencian Imperial Marines. By the authority of the Empire of Olencia, the two of you are under arrest for piracy, and illegal scavenging. You and your ship are to surrender immediately."

Vincent grinned, knowing how unexpected his response would be. "Sergeant, I'm under charter to search for and recover this ship, by request of the Volante navy. These are free skies, and if they aren't, I will see your navy charged with aiding and abetting piracy in this region. We had a dozen rafts and skiffs back there openly flying black, and you and your very pretty yacht have apparently left them unmolested. Now bring an actual officer and let your betters sort this out."