After dinner was cleared, Captain Rhiati unrolled a worn map across the table. The parchment smelled faintly of sea salt and smoke, the edges curled from use.
Cane leaned in, studying the layout. Jagged formations curved inward like claws.
"This is the Scorpion Straits?" he asked. "Looks… hostile."
Ria nodded. "Got their name from the rocks. Bordering the narrow pass like a scorpion's tail."
He tilted his head. "Okay, but—what am I looking at exactly? There's no labels."
"Deliberate," Ria said, tapping the map. "If the ship ever falls into enemy hands, no markings means less intel lost."
She pointed to a narrow corridor of sea. "We're approaching from the east. With the sun at our backs, we'll have the advantage. First strike before they even know we're in range."
Cane followed her finger as she traced the channel.
"There's a blockade here," she continued. "Ships dug in tight, hugging the cliffs. In the past, we've taken heavy damage trying to push through."
Cane's eyes narrowed. "You've been getting hit from both sides. Port and starboard crossfire."
"Exactly."
"Now you won't have to go in," he said. "Hit the ones exposed outside the strait, and the rest will be forced to either let them sink or reveal themselves."
Ria gave a small grin. "Gonna make a sailor out of you yet."
Cane nodded. "What happened last time you were here?"
Ria's smile faded. "We were passing by. One of their ships strayed too far—we took it down without drawing the rest."
Cane kept his voice soft. "That's when you picked up the three ships?"
She nodded again. "Yeah. Then they gave chase. We engaged in a running battle until reinforcements arrived."
His voice dropped. "Those three ships… were they sunk?"
"No," Ria said, jaw tightening. "They made it back to the strait."
"What were their names?"
"The Black Dagger, the Rising Phoenix, and the Thunder King." Her voice was calm, but the fire beneath it was unmistakable.
Cane's tone sharpened. "Better let me man the gunner's chair, then. I'll send them to the bottom of the bay."
Ria met his gaze. "Thanks. Was going to ask. None of us have much experience doing it alone, and we can't afford a miss."
**
"You've got to be kidding me…" Captain Rhiati muttered, exchanging a look with Neri, who stood beside her near the helm.
After making sure Cane didn't fall asleep in her bed again, the captain had left her quarters to split up helm duty between herself, Neri, and Bula.
Now, she watched with open disbelief as Cane removed a plush mattress from his silver storage ring and laid it out on the deck like he was at a countryside inn. Blankets followed. Then a large pillow. Then Cane—undressing without a care—crawled under the covers and settled in like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Bula chuckled from the helm. "Looks cozy. I might join him when my shift's up."
"The captain will relieve you in four hours," Neri said with a small smile. "Then I'll relieve her five after that."
Ria shook her head, sighed something about blacksmiths, and disappeared into her cabin.
Neri lingered at the rail, listening to the hush of water.
"Helm duty?" Cane's voice drifted up sleepily.
Neri nodded as she approached, and tested the mattress with one hand before sitting. "In nine hours." She gave the bed a slight bounce. "This does look comfortable."
Cane wordlessly pulled another blanket and pillow from his ring and handed them over. "Get some rest."
Neri smiled and curled beside him without hesitation.
Four hours later, the captain's door creaked open. Rhiati stretched her arms above her head, yawning… and froze mid-motion when she spotted her First Mate still asleep beside a peacefully snoring Cane.
"If she doesn't get up on time," Ria muttered, "I'm dousing them both with a bucket of seawater."
A gentle hand tapped Cane's shoulder.
He stirred, eyes fluttering open to see a cheerful Maude grinning at him.
"Looks cozy," she said. "Where's my invite?"
Cane sat up. The sky was still dark, but the edges of his senses told him dawn was near.
"How far to the straits?" he asked.
"Little over an hour," Maude replied.
Cane stood, stowing the bedding back into his ring, dressing quickly, and slipping into the HAV he'd made for himself. He walked up to the helm where Neri was now at her post.
Cane checked the gun first—clean, ready. He loaded a round, saving time for later, then grabbed a light breakfast from his ring: dried meat, cider, and a little nervous energy. The edge of battle always made him think too fast, move too slow.
800 meters, he reminded himself. That's the magic number.
They'd approach the strait with the sun behind them. At 800 meters, the Defiant would turn to flee—sails full, crew ready. Meanwhile, Cane would begin firing. The enemy wouldn't even think of returning fire until 300 meters, and to do that, they'd have to expose their flanks.
"They turn. I don't. That's the edge."
Maude appeared at his side, her ginger hair tucked behind her ears.
"I'm your loader," she announced. "Tell me what to do."
Cane smiled. "Perfect. One's already in the chamber. I want you to keep another ready at all times."
"Got it."
"When I fire, the breach will slam open. You just jam the next round in. Keep your hands clear—breach weighs a hundred pounds and will snap shut once a round is pushed in."
Maude nodded, eyes serious. "Clear."
Cane pointed to the hexagon rack. "As soon as you load, grab the next one. Don't wait for the shot. Keep the chain moving."
She gave a sharp nod, then hesitated as he rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry," Cane said. "They'll have to turn their entire ship to aim. Me? All I have to do is spin a crank."
The sun rose majestically behind them—but no one was watching.
Normally, a ship's mainsail could be seen from miles away. But no lookout pointed a spyglass directly into the sun. The unbroken blockade stood firm with seven ships, few daring to attack it head-on.
Cane stood at the bow, raising Neri's spyglass. One thousand meters out, he noted the positions: The Black Dagger, Rising Phoenix, and Thunder King—broadside and bristling, waiting for prey to enter the strait.
Gulls circled overhead. The Defiant's crew watched in silence, more than one glancing at the massive gun mounted just behind the helm.
"COME ABOUT!" Rhiati's voice cut through the hush.
At 800 meters, the Defiant turned hard to starboard.
"Lower the main! Prepare to hoist again!" she ordered.
The ship slowed dramatically. With the sun now in their faces, all eyes turned to the gun—the Main Gun.
Maude stood close, heart pounding, while Cane looked calm, almost bored. "Three ships in sight. Range is 800 meters," he said.
Cane exhaled and sighted down the barrel. "Cover your ears."
BOOM
Smoke and fire belched from the telescoping barrel. The spent brass casing clanged to the deck. In the distance, the shot slammed into the base of the middle ship's mast, shearing through sails and decking before tearing into the hull.
"RELOAD!"
Maude snapped back to action, jamming in the next round and yanking her hands clear just before the breach slammed shut.
Cane adjusted right, dropped the vertical one tick, and fired again.
BOOM
Hot metal and powder filled the air. The shot struck the right ship at the waterline—low and hard. The vessel shuddered.
Before the smoke cleared, Maude reloaded again.
Cane turned to the far-left ship. "One more…"
BOOM
The round punched through powder stores. The resulting blast engulfed all three targets in flame—one disintegrated, the other two caught fire.
"Holding fire," Cane muttered, eyes locked on the burning hulks.
Minutes ticked by.
Ria held her spyglass tight, heart hammering in her chest. "Here they come!"
Four ships moved into pursuit.
"Front two are Black Dagger and Rising Phoenix," Ria noted. She let the main sail stay down. "Gotta let them close—so they can't run."
"Range: 700 meters," Neri called out.
"Not yet…"
"Range: 600 meters."
"HOIST THE MAIN! ENGAGE OUR PURSUIT!"
Cane was already lined up on the Black Dagger.
"Cover your ears."
BOOM
The round struck just above the waterline, punched through the rudder, and exited clean out the rear hull. The ship jerked sideways, drifting uncontrollably toward its partner.
"Must've taken out the rudder," Cane muttered.
Maude reloaded. Cane adjusted. Fired again.
BOOM
The mast of the Rising Phoenix exploded, the helm obliterated. The ship listed immediately.
"The rear two are turning about!" Neri shouted.
"DROP SAILS!" Ria snapped. "Let them broadside! We want the shot."
Cane grinned. "This one's for Tulip."
BOOM
A massive hole opened at the waterline of the Thunder King. It started taking water immediately.
Maude reloaded. Cane, already rotating the gun.
BOOM
The final ship's helm shattered under the force of the strike.
Cane coughed—acrid smoke filled his lungs. Hot brass rolled across the deck, singing the wood beneath his boots.
"No mercy," Ria ordered, steel in her voice. "Keep firing until they're sunk."
Cane obeyed.
Shot after shot.
Until all four ships were burning or beneath the waves—enemy sailors scattered in the sea, clinging to wreckage.
A roar went up from the crew of the Defiant, triumphant and fierce.
"HOIST THE SAILS! PREPARE TO COME ABOUT!" Rhiati's voice cut through the jubilation. Her hands gripped the wheel, eyes locked ahead.