"… There's one other thing."
Caihong raises her eyebrow.
"You told me previously that I didn't deserve my position on this ship."
She doesn't flinch. "Not precisely what I said, but go on."
"Do you still feel I am here because of nepotism?"
She shrugs. "I regret saying it, for what it's worth."
"Answer."
She hesitates, then says slowly, "Yes and no. You would have been made captain even if the Reaver Queen had not personally taken you in. And it was unfair of me to treat you as if you were some blueblooded snot who had never been out to sea before."
You sigh. "But…?"
"… but," She sighs too, "You
were placed here because your mother knows you. And that stings. I joined up with the fleet in part to get
away from the holier-than-thou nobility of the mainland. Yet here I am, serving under the son of the Reaver Queen."
She folds her hands behind her back. "Regardless you have more than proven your worth at this stage."
"Not the point. I need a first mate that I can work with."
"You think I can't work with you?" She asks, her tone darkening.
"I think that you don't want to," you say, "and if you prefer, I could recommend you for your own ship."
She blinks her one good eye, and you see the hitch in her breath as you say that. She hadn't been expecting that.
You fold your arms. "The Queen will listen to me if I say you're fit to command."
"You…" she hesitates, and you see the intrigue in her eye. "You'd do that?"
You're not 100% sure Caihong would make a good captain. She'd held the ship together in your absence and has kept you abreast of the situations you need to know of. But she's also hard to get along with. If she wants her own ship she'll need to be good at making friends. Or at least motivating her crew.
But if the alternative is making her stay the resentment will only grow.
"It's your decision." You say, shrugging. "If you want off, I'll tell mother you've done well but need your own ship. If not, then we'll keep going."
She takes a deep breath. "… Funny thing is," she says slowly, "…your mother wanted me to do that for you."
…
"Come again?"
"She sent me along to keep an eye on you and evaluate how well you'd do in command." She says again. "Said it was because someone who had tried to kill you wouldn't try to sugarcoat your failings 'if the darned space god's got any'."
Mother… doubts you?
That…
"… very well," you say, nodding to her. "Don't sugarcoat it when she asks. Tell her you told me about it too if need be."
She nods. "I'll check on Han and Maia, keep you appraised of any change in their condition."
The Queen thinks of you as an unfeeling space god.
Why does that sting?
-
-
The cultists are spread all over the ship, helping your crew get ready to leave, in small cliques that fall quiet as you approach. At first you think they're hiding something from you, but it quickly becomes clear that they're falling silent in reverence that's becoming weird and creepy. Eventually, you go down off of the ship to look for Xiulan. And you do find her, but before that, to your surprise, you find your ward.
Fan doesn't enjoy seeing others uncomfortable around her, so you expect her to be in the cargo hold, near the brig or perhaps back in the crew quarters. Instead, you find her on the sands with the cultists. Specifically throwing insults at Son while both he and the cultists with him are looking at her with barely-contained disgust. Xiulan, surprisingly, is standing to the side with an eyebrow raised, looking between the young children trading insults like cannon fire.
"Stupidface!"
"You already used that one!"
"Cuz it's true!" Son stuck his tongue out.
"Well your name is stupid!"
"Said Fan."
"Your mama's bald!"
"Because of that stupid jerkface!!"
"You mean yourself?"
You see her grinning wide. She's enjoying this. He and the cultists, much less so.
You walk up behind her, letting your shadow fall over her.
"Fan." You say sweetly, and you see her jolt a bit, "Go to my quarters and wait there for a bit. I need to talk to you."
She glances back over her shoulder. "But I-"
"Fan." Your tone brokers no argument, and she mumbles before sprinting off. You pretend not to notice her sticking her tongue out at Son as you walk away. (Why not? He's doing it to her)
"Son." You say, looking at him, and his face grows pale at your look. "Your mother wants to speak to you."
"She's not my mother." Son grumbles, folding his arms.
That… is not your problem and thank the gods for that. "Go talk to Xiulan or I will drag you there by your hair."
"I don't have any hair. You had us burn it off."
"I had you
shave it off and then burn the remnants. It'll grow back." Your eyes narrow. "And you have hair on your head alright, just beneath the scalp. Some of it might be poking out already depending on how good the shave job was. Trust me, I'll find it."
His face grows paler, and you wince inward. Maybe threatening the child that thinks you're dangerous, even as a joke, wasn't the best move to make.
You step closer, ignore him flinching, and rub Son's head. "Don't worry about nothin', okay? You'll understand why this had to happen one day. Thank you for being Fan's friend."
You smile and go to talk to his mother without another word.
Xiulan kneels before you, arms outstretched. "How many these humble servants serve your glory, Stormbreaker?"
"First off, stop worshipping me, it's friggen creepy."
"Whatever you desire, most handsome and divine lord, your radiance is unmatched."
"Look, just…" You scowl. How any real god could put up with this is beyond you. "Call me Captain, if you must."
"As you wish." Xiulan cleared her throat. "Captain… Sun-Sin, was it?" You raise an eyebrow. She takes that as an affirmation to continue. "I feel you're asking for something I cannot give. Few have ever been able to enter the storm, and fewer still have ever been able to leave it. The gods have always told us to stay and sacrifice our fellows so that we might survive. What you did for us was a miracle. Some reverence even among the less devout is surely not so surprising?"
You raise an eyebrow. "What about the
Rude Awakening? It was able to get through the storm."
"Those of us who attempted to leave with the slavers never made it out of the storm. Within a day or two their bodies would wash back up onto the shore."
"What did you pay them with?"
She shrugs. "Generally supplies from the last shipwreck. Not like we had any use for gold on an island with no civilization."
That doesn't fully add up to you. Sure, from the cultist's side it makes sense, but why would slavers take a bunch of witches into a storm just to die? It doesn't just feel morally wrong, but senseless.
"Do you know what your sacrifices were doing?"
She shakes her head. "It pleases our gods and ensured our survival, that's all we knew."
"And you don't have a problem with that?"
"Should I?"
"Yes!"
"Lord, do you know how your blood keeps you living, or do you trust it to pump in your body and give you life?"
"The two aren't mutually exclusive." You shoot back, though you've never really looked into how blood works. You know that your blood has cells and that these carry various things like oxygen through your body to keep it going, and could even tell her exactly how long it would take for a man to bleed out if his wound stayed open (it wouldn't happen to you, of course, you heal too fast). But you can't really explain it beyond that. What is a cell? Why do they matter? You know things, but you don't
know them.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, deciding to drop it. "Look, this is a tangent. Just… talk to them or something, at least convince them to keep their weirdo rituals to a minimum. Are there any concerns with how you're settling in with the rest of the crew?"
Xiulan hesitates. "Your crew's faith is… less than zealous, lord, but they're putting up with us. And my people are enthusiastic for the most part. It's only been a day or so, of course, things could change, but for now I think we're okay."
You raise an eyebrow. "There's something else you want to say, isn't there?"
"There's one other thing," Xiulan says slowly. "The girl, Fan. Your… daughter?"
… Eh. You're not sure either way on that front. You shrug. "I'm going with 'little sister' for now."
She nods. "Regardless I hope Son's behavior hasn't pushed her or you away."
"I still mean to speak to her about that. I was a little surprised Son would talk to her at all. Seemed relatively normal, even. Most people feel ill when they look at her."
"Ah. Yes. We have the same feeling." Xiulan shrugs. "But we're used to such horrors."
You raise an eyebrow but do not press. "And Son's behavior was acceptable to you?"
"Seemed like any normal children in a tiff to me." Xiulan shrugs. "They'll grow out of it."
"Does that include throwing a knife at her?"
Xiulan tries to hide her shock, but you see the tiniest microexpressions in her face that she has to fight down. "No. I will speak to Son."
You nod. "Don't be too hard on him, I think he realized it was a mistake the moment he did it."
"You don't want me to be hard on a child that threw a knife?"
"Is that not a normal thing for a child to do?"
The look on Xiulan's face is a mix of confusion and revelation, as if learning a lesson she didn't think she would ever be taught. "… was it normal for you?"
You shrug. "I was a pirate so it wasn't exactly a normal upbringing but I'm sure kids throw knives at each other all the time."
Xiulan slowly nods. "Your wisdom and mercy is boundless, lord. I will spread the word to the rest of my people."
"No worship?"
She hesitates before nodding. "I cannot guarantee they will stop but I will discourage the practice."
That will have to do for now. You take a deep breath. "Now… I need to go talk to Fan. Excuse me."
"Of course, most masculine and divine lord, your very presence is a blessing like rain upon a desert. Marry me."
"You did that one on purpose."
"Maybe."
-
-
Fan apparently gets bored waiting for you and found a spare eyepatch. You're not sure where she got it because you're pretty sure Caihong keeps those in her own quarters.
"Me hurty!" She squeaks in what she probably thinks is an intimidating imitation of Caihong. "Why did ye summon me to this here place? I needs to get back to sailin and plun-dooring!"
"Yar." You say, trying not to laugh as the eyepatch slips slightly off of her head. "Because me hearty be pokin' at new additions to me crew wit all da subtlety and grace of a broadside loaded with grizzly bears."
Fan grumbles and folds her arms. "I totally understood that." She lies.
"Why were you antagonizing your friend?"
"Son's not my friend."
You grin. "I didn't say who."
She sniffs. "Who else would you have been talking about? … and what's anti gun icing?"
"It means annoying someone deliberately."
"I didn't do that to anyone but Son." She folds her arms, pouting. "And he was the biggest gun icer of all. He keeps calling you names. He said your hat was stupid. He's a jerk."
You're not going to kill the kid for saying your hat is dumb but you are going to hold it against him for a while. "You aren't mad he threw a knife at you?"
"Everyone throws stuff at me, I'm ugly and stupid and sowl-less. You're cool and awesome and nice, he shouldn't hate you."
… That's somehow both sweet and horrifying.
"Fan," you say, "you can't just pick fights with fri- people because they annoy you. You need to at least make sure the fight will be worth it."
"Fights are fun."
"I don't think you enjoyed the fights, so much as you enjoyed the fact that I was hurting people."
She folds her arms and turns away from you. "Why not? They liked doing it to me. And watching others do it to me."
"And it was awful for you, wasn't it?"
She says nothing, but you see her grow still as the thought runs through her head.
"It can be a tempting thing. To hurt people and things that hurt you. To take pleasure from their misery and pain." You pull her into your arms. "You deserve justice. But vengeance can consume you. You can go on to make the same monsters that hurt you. Don't be too eager to make others angry, okay?"
She mumbles something that sounds vaguely affirmative, before adding under her breath "They all get angry anyway."
You sigh and release her. "So don't give them more reasons."
"I'm gonna be doing that forever, aren't I?"
You don't answer, which is an answer.
She takes a deep breath. "I can't be the only one in the world, right? Pointy said there were other sool-less.
"It's pronounced soulless," you say, "but don't call yourself that, okay? You've already got a soul."
She looks a bit mollified at that. "… Okay. What was the other word she used? Black?"
"Blank."
You don't say it, but you got the impression from the Aeldari that blanks were exceptionally rare, rarer than witches. And Fan was the only blank that the slavers had seen fit to keep. Which meant there weren't like to be many on this planet or elsewhere, or if there were, they'd be hard to find. Fan could be the only one on the planet.
"… Listen." You pat her blonde hair, ignoring the pain. "I'm here. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out, okay? With or without other blanks. Someone had to learn it from scratch, and if that's what we've got to do, then we'll do it. And who knows, maybe you can turn it on and off."
You doubt that's actually possible, but it might make her feel better. She nods, a small smile starting to creep onto her face. "Can I go now?"
"You're not about to go mess with the cultists again are you?"
"No." She lies poorly.
You raise an eyebrow at her.
"… yes." She mumbles.
"… guess you'll go whatever I say. But this time you're not going to start a fight, okay? Don't punch anyone."
"Unless Son makes me mad."
"No."
"… what if he punches me first?"
"Oh yeah sure, turn him to paste and make it look badass."
"So I'll taunt him until he punches me, then-"
"
No!"
-
-
This conversation is one you need to have, but that doesn't make it pleasant at all. You stand in the brig, right outside Eun's door, with her guards sent away. She hasn't looked at you for longer than it took to realize you were the one that had come to talk to her.
Eun… She was the most enthusiastic when you were given the Cutting Dagger. She's always loved battle just as much as you do, and has competed with you on more than one occasion. Never once did you ever think she'd betray you like this.
Well… betray is perhaps a strong word, but not an inaccurate one. She kept important information from you, something that could've gotten Fan killed if you were unlucky.
Eun's incarceration has not gone unnoticed by the crew, nor the cultists. Keeping her here isn't the cruelest thing you could've done, but you're now surrounded by people you barely know and trust. You need every friendly face you can get right about now.
That and she's also the only person on the crew besides Han who can cook a decent meal, and he's still with Maia. For all you know they're both ill now. Not really a great reason to let her out, you all can survive on basic rations, but it's a bonus.
"I want to know," you say calmly, "what exactly happened."
Eun doesn't look at you, head in her knees. You fold your arms and tap your fingers against your bicep as you sit down.
"Okay, so…" She begins, "Day or two out from the Dajufeng I was in the kitchens, carving up some rations, setting others aside so we wouldn't run low. I was feeling ill, like I had a low level-migraine. Not enough to stop me working, but enough to be grouchy, right?"
You say nothing, letting her talk.
"I go to one of the orange barrels, thinking about scurvy. I notice the lid's popped already and there's oranges on the floor. I think something might've snuck in so I freak out a bit, rip the lid open to see what's inside. Fan's laying there curled up on the oranges, and I almost throw up on her. The whole gross aura thing, ya know? And I freak out cuz we're about to go into the eternal storm, no place for a kid. But you're already running around and have enough on your plate and I figure I can try and keep her safe. So I move her when nobody's looking, I give her some of my rations to keep her fed and happy. She was always in the most secure area I could find. I thought the situation was handled and nobody else needed to know."
You tap your arm again. "You didn't think informing me that we had a child on board before going into the Storm was important?"
She buries her face further into her legs. "That was my thought process, yeah."
"That's idiotic."
"I know… I panicked when I realized she was there." She mumbled. "I just… I didn't want to…" she hesitates.
"Didn't want to what?" You press.
"I didn't know what to do!" She yells instead, head still buried in her legs. "It's not like we could've done anything different than what I did anyway! We couldn't turn back! We couldn't send her on her own ship! What were you going to do, throw her into the ocean like Loch does with stowaways?!"
"I would've never done that, least of all to a child." You growl and rub your temples. "You know, I figured Caihong or someone would try to kill me at some point, but if you'd been planning to blow me up, at least that would've made
sense."
"WHAT?! I would never do anything like that to you!" She yells, immediately outraged.
"Oh really?" You snap back. "And why not?! If you're willing not to tell me about something this important, what else might you keep from me?"
"I'd never hurt you." She looks at you for the first time, and you see angry tears in her eyes. "You're
all that's important to me."
The statement shuts her and you both up, and she buries her face back into her legs. You're silent for a while, the distant thumps and chatter of the working crew the only accompaniment you have.
"… You've been down here long enough." You say. "I just want to make something clear before I let you out again."
Eun looks up and blinks at you.
"You are one of my best friends on this crew, and when we're on shore leave you can goof off or sing songs or lie to my face or whatever you want." You say, pulling out your key and giving it a turn. "But as your captain I need to know that I can rely on you. Part of that is that if something I need to know comes up, you inform me or Caihong. Immediately. Okay?"
She steps out of the cell, shaking and not looking you in the eye.
"Look me in the eye."
She turns her head upward, and you can see the water there.
"Don't think this means you're off the hook." You say. "Next time we're in Shang I'm going to be doing a long hard think on who I need in my crew and who needs to get off at port."
She nods. "Understood, shanwei."
"Good. That's your only warning. Dismissed."
-
-
The Tech Monks have been at work on repairs, directing the crew as well as some of the cultists to find materials and supplies they need. Mostly, they've been asking for raw material; wood, scrap metal, and such. You find them at the front of the ship, right by one of the largest holes knocked into the hull by the Shiraken.
Or at least, what
was the largest hole. Your eyes widen when you see how quickly the three monks have managed to do their repairs; either the tech they're using is more geared towards repair than they let on or they have an amazing work ethic. Possibly both.
You nod to Paradise, Whim and the nameless lay sister as you step up towards them. Virtuous Whim nods to you, then gestures to his compatriots. Both cease their activities. Paradise goes past you, heading towards the jungles and to the parts of your crew gathering provisions. The lay sister bows to you and quickly moves past you, slightly blushing. You ignore her. Something you've noticed is that the lay sister and Paradise in Labor have both been quiet, mostly letting Whim do the talking for them. You're not sure why, but if it's monk stuff, then you'll need to respect it.
"Repairs are well under way, captain." Whim says, holding up his staff. "We should be able to sail with the next turn of the tide."
"Excellent. You had a chance to look at the weapons?" You ask.
Whim nods. "Not too difficult to understand. Guns are guns."
You nod back. "And you can modify them for human use?"
"It should be possible," Whim says, his tone darkening. "But we do not have the proper tools here."
You grunt an affirmative. That much you'd expected; it's not like prisoners would be left their ability to work on sensitive equipment while waiting for human sacrifice. At that point you might as well just give them a key.
"Did you come here solely to ask about your weapons, or was there some other reason? I do not mind, but I do not wish to keep my hands idle long."
You hesitate a moment. "Well, I… there was a thing."
Virtuous Whim turns his attention away from the wood, visor looking you in the eye. He's listening.
"I've never met Tech Monks before," you say, "at least not any that were still in the temples."
"Truly?" Whim asks, surprised. "We are not
that rare. Surely you've required our services in the past? Or perhaps met one of us on a pilgrimage?"
You shrug. "I've lived most of my life on the ocean with pirates, so no pilgrims. Never met any of the ones the Queen hired."
Whim frowns at the word 'hired' but does not change the subject. "I see. But surely you've heard of our ways, at least to some extent. What did you wish to know?"
You pause, thinking over it a moment. "You have a weird mix of technologies here. The lay sister's orb seems next to useless for personal protection, for example. And Paradise… I'm not even sure what those gloves of his are or what they're supposed to be for but he's not using them, far as I can tell."
"That is because you are watching us
repair." Whim says. "The gauntlets are exceptionally powerful and made for destruction, or at the very least heavy lifting. Aside from my visor we were given only what we needed for our task. My staff for protection, his gauntlets for work, and the lay sister's orb for keeping our artifacts charged and prepared."
"Your visor? How is your visor different?"
Whim smiles and taps his visor. "This is temporary, and granted to me only because I am already blind. It will be removed when I return to the temple."
"What? Why?"
"Long ago, when humanity still ruled the stars, we made the mistake of allowing our machines full control, and they destroyed us." The monk bowed his head. "Technology exists to serve mankind, never to replace us. My eyes are gone, yes, but the rest of my body remains. We perfect our flesh to the best of our ability."
"That doesn't really answer why you'd willingly give up your ability to see."
He shrugs, his tone growing a little clipped. "I can live without sight."
You shake your head. "I don't mean to pry into your personal business if that's what this is, I'm just trying to figure out where the line is drawn as Kuji-Nan."
Whim considers for a moment, then nods. "We use technology to accomplish what we cannot, but in doing so we may weaken ourselves inadvertently. A man who uses a knight to lift all things may soon find his hands useless. We take what we need, no more."
"Seems like such a philosophy would lead to a total rejection of technological progress."
"That… gets a bit deeper into our philosophy than I'm entirely comfortable sharing here. You can ask our Disciplinary when we arrive if you like." Whim says, glancing to his companions, with a particularly disappointed look at the lay sister.
"Okay… different topic then." You glance back at the lay sister who pretends (rather poorly) that she's not listening. "What brought you out here? You said earlier this was a pilgrimage?"
Whim nods. "Our lay sister has taken no vows, for she is unsure of the oaths her order requires. So Paradise in Labor and I are to escort her on a pilgrimage outside of her cloister, to see the other temples. It is intended to broaden her horizons and perspective, so she might understand the importance of the Cloister of Circuitry. Or if she finds another path, she may choose it instead."
"I'd ask her about the cloister directly," You say, putting your arms behind your head. "But you're the only one of the three who's spoken to me in more than a few sentences. Is that part of the pilgrimage? They're not allowed to speak?"
"They are, technically, but I am the most senior of us and have the most experience outside of the temples. We simply decided it would be best if I handle interactions with outsiders."
You… don't quite follow the logic, but you shrug. It's not like it's important. Whim glares behind you, where the lay sister is standing…
You glance at her and she immediately looks away like an embarrassed schoolgirl with her first crush.
Cute. You briefly consider asking if the oaths she didn't want to take included one of celibacy… but Whim's glare tells you that'd be a bad idea to joke right that second. Question for later.
You rub your chin as you look at the patch job. "You're certain this will hold?"
"We've done all we can." Whim says, tapping his index finger against a metal sheet. "At least until you can reach a proper drydock. Keel damage is difficult and expensive to fix in full, nigh impossible in a place like this. And there's only so much I can do to prepare for a storm."
"Leave the storm to me. Well done." You nod, then whistle to everyone on the beach. "Everyone get aboard and make haste, we sail!"
"AYE-AYE!" call the crew.
The Cutting Dagger is pushed back out into the roiling sea, and just as it begins to buck in the surf, the once-constant rain begins to end. Clouds cover the sky, but they have begun to thin. You breath in the salty air, smiling as the wind fills your sails, literally and metaphorically. It is still a strong wind, but in comparison to what you'd been experiencing on the way in, it might as well have been a light breeze.
Caihong is calling out directions to the crew, her vigor seemingly reinforced after your talk. The news that mother doubts you is weighing a bit on your mind, but at least your new understanding is perking her up.
Next to you, Fan is staring out over the railing, eyes wide with wonder as the ship sails again. Mother once told you there was something beautiful about the first day of a voyage… right until you remember how bad the food is and start longing for home.
The Tech Monks join you up on deck, also watching the ship cast away. The lay sister is murmuring something under her breath, eyes shut as the sea air whips around you all; surprisingly, you don't recognize whatever she's chanting. It doesn't quite sound like a prayer and it definitely isn't in any language you know.
And as the ship pulls away from the island, winds catching the sail as they always do, Eun (on your other side) begins to sing an old favorite, and you join her…
There once was a ship that put to sea,
The name of the ship was the Billy O' Tea…
-
End of Act 1
-
As you set sail for the Temple of Perpetual Devotion, your priorities pull you in various directions. Which of these do you tackle first as the biggest priority?
[] – Some quick and easy plunder
Your crew's grumbling because of the lack of treasure from this last adventure, and while things are stable for the moment, the sooner you get them some good money the sooner they lose reason to complain. You'll go find a nobleman's vessel or a merchant ship or something and fill up your crew's pockets with their cash.
(You'll secure the loyalty of your crew against potential mutiny and have some money to boot.)
[] – Getting to the Temple ASAP
Virtuous Whim, Paradise in Labor, and the lay sister have promised to modify your stolen Dark Eldar weaponry to work for humans. However, they require tools kept at their temple in order to do it properly, and you're not sure how they'll feel aiding a group of pirates in their thievery. Getting them off of your ship while they're still grateful and view you as a hero is probably the better option.
(You'll please the Tech Monks and get your modded weapons more quickly.)
[] – Full Drydock
The
Cutting Dagger took extensive damage. The Tech Monks were able to repair it and it should hold for now, but for a proper long-term repair the
Cutting Dagger will need a full drydocking in a port specifically built for it. It'll take you off of the sea for a long while, but the Dagger will need to do this sooner or later anyway, might as well get it out of the way.
(Your ship goes through a more thorough repair, making it as good as new if not better.)
[] – Bring Shen and his people home
The slaves and shipwreck victims that your crew have taken back from the boat are probably looking forward to making their way back to their homes. You'll drop them off somewhere, some of them will pay if they can, and they'll spread the tale of your valor.
(Your legend will begin to spread across the planet and you will no longer need to ration your supplies.)
[] - Write-In
Suggested by
@SpacePaladin
[] - Write-In
-[] Given that your superhuman physiology lets you ignore such minor inconveniences like "lack of light", "crushing pressure" and "needing to breathe", do a deep sea dive to scavenge anything of value the Kraken and storms might have left behind. The Kraken itself might be valuable.
-
A/N: Late Christmas gift: more than 5k word update. With headers for your personal convenience reading the thing.
The good news is the Warhammer submissions window opened and I already submitted my sample. So a pause for that reason is no longer necessary.
The bad news is that we're probably going to be pausing for a bit anyway while I get my ducks in a row.
Side note: the word count now says "novella in progress" which I find amusing.
