He knelt down beside the bag of powder and jammed the barrel of his pistol in through the hole he had made. Tipping the pistol up, he moved quickly to the middle of the Maiden’s Bane and prepared for his sabotage. He stopped when he heard a yell from above; he had been spotted.

  An answering shout came from the gangplank that led up to the deck. Dexter spun and cursed. Escape towards the pirate base was not an option. He turned again, looking towards the open void. He glanced back and saw the pirate slowing as he approached. He could hear more pounding on the planks and rushing from the crew quarters below the bow.

  Dexter knelt down and laid his pistol on the deck, then cocked the hammer back and pulled the trigger. The hammer descended and drove a spark from the flintlock into the barrel, which contained only some loosely packed powder. Rather than exploding behind wadding and driving a ball out the barrel, it flared hotly and shot fire out the front of it. The fire caught the trail of powder he had left earlier, sending a line of flame shooting in both directions.

  Dexter turned and ran, leaping over the railing at the edge even as he heard the first crack of a shot. The bullet missed, slamming instead into the railing now below and behind him. A moment later the ship shuddered, rocked by the explosion. Less than three seconds after that a second explosion followed, shattering the base of the main mast and driving it at an angle through the roof of the ship. The mizzen mast fell inwards, towards the pirate base, and crashed into the decking surrounding the base, leading to the dock the Maiden’s Bane was moored at.

  Dexter floated for a moment then plunged towards the ship’s gravity plane. He plummeted through it, then fought the vertigo of suddenly having his gravity reversed. He bobbed up and down in the plane, moving away from the ship with the inertia of his initial jump. Each time he crossed the plane there was an extra push away from the ship as well, which was how ships made it possible to keep small rocks and space debris from causing damage, by repelling them along their gravity plane. Dexter glanced back over his shoulder and saw one of the pirates on the forecastle gestured at him. Drevin stepped up to the rail and stared out at him, his face a mask of fury. He shouted orders for whoever was nearby to shoot him down and drew his own pistol, taking aim.

  Dexter gulped and twisted his body, managing to flip so that his feet faced the ship and he lay prone. Drevin fired, his bullet ripping through Dexter’s pants and making him grimace in pain as it tore a bloody furrow in his outer thigh. Another man stepped up and fired as well, sending his slug soundly into Dexter’s bottom.

  Salvation came in the form of the Voidhawk. With Bekka at the helm and the others manning the rigging they sailed into view and took time away from their guidance of the vessel to fire their re-acquired pistols at the pirates. The pirates ducked for cover, allowing the Voidhawk to sail up beside Dexter and for Rosh to toss a rope overboard for him.

  On board his own ship again, Dexter limped behind cover and shouted orders to get them away as fast as possible. He heard a few more pistols fired, then nothing. He stuck his head back out and watched as they cleared the atmosphere of the pirate base, ending the transmission of sound. Cursing, he ducked low and remembered that while air and sound would not pass through the void, objects still would. Objects such as the slugs fired from pistols.

  Or bombards. His mouth went dry as he saw one of the bombards on the base being cranked around to point at them. He realized it was the one he had stolen the powder from, if only he’d thought to steal the rest of it.

  “Hard to port and down!” Dexter yelped.

  Kragor glanced at him, furry brows cocked in surprise. He relayed the specific orders to the crew to enact them without missing a beat. The massive ball of lead sailed barely over the Voidhawk’s decking. Ere it could be reloaded, they had put enough distance from the base to make the odds of a hit unlikely, at best.

  Out of range of the bandits’ bombards, they felt only a moment of concern when other ships undocked and came after them. With the Maiden’s Bane crippled none of the others could match the speed of Voidhawk under full sail and in less than an hour they gave up the chase.

  “You’d better get that looked at, captain,” Jenna said to him as he limped around on the deck inspecting the minimal damage done by the skirmish and escape.

  Dexter shrugged. “I’m fine,” he muttered, worrying about their future now that they were safe.

  “You’ve been shot in the arse,” she pointed out.

  “I’m milking it.” He changed the subject, worrying about it would do him no good since Bekka, their healer, was manning the helm at a time when they needed every inch of distance they could get. “How are our stores?”

  Jenna scowled at him, knowing he needed tending to, but decided to go along with him for the moment. “They got the bombards off, but we managed to keep a few barrels of the fire powder. All of our other stores remain, plus we can add a few things we took off the pirates we killed.”

  “How many’s ‘a few’?” he asked. “And what ‘things’ did we inherit?”

  “Four barrels,” she answered, “one more pistol, two short swords, four daggers, and a hatchet.”

  Dexter nodded. “How’s Rosh?”

  “He’s big,” Jenna said matter-of-factly

  “I mean how’s he settling in?”

  “Kragor took him below, beyond that I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “Alright, if he needs anything, weapons or such, let him have it.” Dexter stopped his limping walk and put his hand against the deck railing to steady himself.

  “Captain?” Jenna asked, concerned.

  Dexter looked at her, surprised. “That’s the most you’ve called me captain since we’ve met,” he pointed out.

  Jenna shrugged. “Maybe you’re earning it. I think you need to lay down though, you’re not looking good.”

  “I got shot in the ass, how’m I suppose to look?”

  Jenna hid her smile by glancing away, then turned back at him. “Alright, if you say so.”

  “If I say wha-“

  Jenna’s hand had swung around, the bag of coins she held in it connecting with the back and side of his head. Dexter’s words turned into an explosion of air as he collapsed heavily to the deck. “Sorry, Captain,” Jenna said softly.

  She bent over him and put her hands under the arms of the unconscious man, dragging him along the deck and then down the stairs to her cabin. As soon as she saw Kragor and Rosh she called them over, making them help her carry him to his cabin.

  “What happened?” Kragor demanded.

  “He collapsed,” Jenna said, leaving out the part where she caused it.

  “I’ll get Bekka!” Kragor said, turning to head up the passageway.

  “No, we need the speed and distance, I’ll check him out first,” Jenna said.

  “You’re a healer?” The dwarf asked suspiciously.

  Jenna glared at the stumpy first mate. “I know enough, now quit wasting time!”

  Grumbling under his breath about the flighty nature of elves, they dumped Dexter in his cabin on his bed. Jenna then shooed the other two out the door and shut it behind her. Sighing, she turned back around and stared at the prone form of the man.

  “I’ve got you alone and in bed, now what?” She wondered aloud, albeit softly. She chuckled and moved to him, untying and lowering his breeches. She could only smile at what she knew would be his embarrassment if he knew what she was doing.

  She admired the muscles of his legs and the apparent firmness of his butt, once she had wiped the blood free. His wound still bled, but given there was a lead bullet imbedded in his right cheek, it was understandable why. She was glad he was out cold because the pain of what she had to do would not be a pleasant thing to bear.

  Several minutes later she held the slightly deformed shot up between her blood covered fingers and shook her head. It had gone in fairly deep, but luckily had not hit bone. He would be sore for a while, if he let it heal naturally, but he should make a full recovery she figured.

  His pride, on the other hand, might take even longer to return to normal.

  Chapter 3: Keshira

  “Now what, Dex?” Kragor asked his captain as they made their way out of a bar where they finished their most recent job.

  “We divvy up the pay and have ourselves a good time,” Dexter said, grinning. It had been three successful jobs for them, following the double cross and run in with the pirates. Of course that had been successful too, Dexter figured, because Rosh had joined his crew and he seemed to be worth his weight in gold.

  “I’m for liking that,” Rosh said, towering over the others.

  Dexter chuckled and led the way back to the docks, where the Voidhawk lay moored to a pier. They were at Grafton, a large port on a small moon above Wallick, a planet covered nearly entirely in water. With water so readily available, a large amount of it had been transported up to the moon, filling in some craters and making life that much easier to support on the overgrown asteroid. With lakes came a ready place for void ships to land, since the majority were modified versions of planet-bound ships.

  Back on the Voidhawk Dexter pulled out the bag of coins that the refugees had paid him. The last job had been a mercy run as much as anything. A group of slaves on Rayner, a large planet known for near constant warfare, had contacted him in hopes of buying his services. They needed to be smuggled off of the planet, and they had managed to scrounge up what amounted to a small fortune between them.

  Rosh and Jenna had proved invaluable. Jenna orchestrated the diversion of the wealthy patrician’s guards while Rosh used his strength and skill to great effect in dispatching the few remaining guards and other impediments. The escaped slaves were loaded up, a dozen of them, and ferried off the planet to Grafton.

  Dexter divided up the pay amongst them, wondering what he was going to do with his share, other than replacing used materials on the ship. “I’ll buy the first round,” Dexter offered, drawing a round of cheers from his crew.

  “You for trusting the ‘Hawk to be here unguarded?” Kragor asked before they left.

  Dexter glanced around, noting many Federation soldiers regularly patrolled the docks. He nodded. “Aye, I think she’ll be fine for a few hours.”

  Kragor stroked his beard then shrugged and headed for the plank to the dock. Dexter, grinning, was right behind him as he gestured for the others to head out. They followed gladly, ending up at a nearby tavern called Skyharbor.

  The food was a welcome change of pace from the type of fair they were accustomed to on the Voidhawk, even though Jodyne made as fine a meal as could be made with the materials at hand. The ale was welcome as well, giving them all a chance to unwind and relax.

  After dinner Rosh let himself be pulled away by the arms of a woman skilled at parting a man from his money. Kragor and Dexter shared a chuckle as he grinned stupidly and disappeared through a door.

  Dexter noted the sudden silence in his friend and caught the tail end of a glare from Jodyne. He stifled his own laugh out of respect for the man. The grin, however, remained.

  Kragor finished his ale and bid the others farewell. He escorted his wife out of the tavern as chivalrously as he dared, leaving Dexter alone with Bekka and Jenna. Dexter let the amusement fade slowly and turned to behold his remaining crewmembers. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, though he did not know why.

  “Another round?” Dexter asked after draining the last of his ale.

  “My thanks, Captain, but I will pass,” Bekka said. “I should get back to the ship as well.”

  “We’re off the ship and relaxing, there’ll be no ranks here,” Dexter said, frowning.

  “Alright, then I’m going to head back to the ‘Hawk, Dexter,” Bekka said with an amused smile.

  Dex threw his hands up in the air good-naturedly and laughed. Bekka bid them farewell and then left. The captain of the Voidhawk turned to Jenna and raised and eyebrow.

  “How about you?”

  “Well, if we’re equals off the ‘Hawk,” the elven woman said, her lips curling up in a smile that looked dangerous. “Then what are your plans for the evening?”

  Dexter chuckled, noting her choice of clothing was not only functional, but as the elven woman had once told him, also designed for making the fashion statement. The statement seemed to be one of promiscuity. “I’m not for knowing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had time for myself.”

  “And here I thought you might have a mind to ply me with wine until you could have your way with me,” she said.

  Dexter’s cheeks flared red. He had thought many times about her, his secret fantasies dancing about in his head whenever time permitted. He knew they would remain fantasies though — she was a member of his crew and that was a complication he was not willing to entertain. “Rank or not, I’m not for getting involved with my crew.”

  Jenna slid from the chair she was in to one next to him. “What about your first mate and the cook?”

  “What about them?” Dexter almost stammered. His eyes dropped down to her revealing vest and he felt the heat rush to his cheeks. He jerked his eyes up and wondered if more logs had been thrown on the fire; it was getting uncomfortably warm.

  The sound of her musical laughter tortured him. “I have it on good authority that they’re sleeping with one another.”

  Dexter could not help but chuckle. “Well, they’re married.”

  “So there you are, two of your crew already involved,” she said, as though a problem had just solved itself.

  “Aye, but I don’t get involved,” Dexter said after clearing his throat.

  “I didn’t have any plans on involvement,” Jenna said, pouting. “Just a little fun is all.”

  Dexter’s mouth opened and closed; he was at a loss for words. Unable to avert his eyes, he glanced down and he found her leaning forward so that the panels of her vest, which were hooked together with loose fitting fine chains, had fallen away from her body enough for him to see the full rise of her breasts and the pointed buds that stood out from them. Jenna grinned triumphantly, noting where his gaze had gone, and let him off the hook. “It seems I’ve had my fun now,” she said.

  Before he could reply she stood up, leaning forward as she did so and giving him an even better view down her vest, and whispered in his ear, “I’ll see you back at the ship…Captain.”

  Dexter watched her go, finding himself unable to speak and, even when he regained his composure, unable to stand up. He shook his head and promised himself to keep an eye on Jenna, well, sort of. He laughed at his own play of words and shook his head, ordering another ale.

  “Captain Silvercloud?”

  Dexter sighed, wondering what he was getting himself into this time. He turned and saw a beautiful red headed woman standing near him, a perfect smile upon her face. Somehow he managed to also note that she wore a green dress that had a low cut bodice, threatening to spill her breasts from it with a heavy breath. The skirt of her dress had cuts in the sides that allowed her long legs to slip through it with each stride, offering ethereal promises of the pleasures they could deliver.

  “Uh… yeah,” Dexter replied as eloquently as he possibly could.

  “My Master would like a moment of your time,” she said, her voice soft, sulky, and dangerous.

  He cursed and took a drink of his ale, then smiled at her. “Time enough for him later, who might you be?”

  “I am Jarnella,” she said. “My Master is Wizard Ormitor.”

  “A wizard, you say?” Dexter said, reevaluating his designs towards Jarnella. Wizards were funny; there was no telling what they might be offended by. Especially since they seemed to know so much more than everybody else did.

  He sighed, his plans of following in Rosh’s footsteps falling to pieces. “Well then, Milady Jarnella, take me to your master.”

  She smiled at him and waited for him to stand. Dexter tossed a few extra pieces of silver on the table and followed behind her, his eyes taking in her gently swaying figure every step of the way.

  Jarnella led him to another tavern, this one considerably nicer than the one near the docks where she found him. She directed him to a private booth where a man sat by himself, finishing off a goblet of wine. She slid into the booth next to the man and gestured for Dexter to sit across from them.

  Dexter did as he was bid, and leaned back in surprise when a manservant delivered a tankard of fine ale for him. He thanked the man, then turned to his host.

  “Dexter Silvercloud, captain of the Voidhawk, at your service,” he said, raising his tankard of ale in salute.

  “I need to make a fast trip to my home,” Ormitor said without preamble. “What are your rates?”

  Dexter blinked, surprised. “Well, you and Lady Jarnella? How much luggage will you be bringing?”

  “She is no Lady,” Ormitor stated bluntly. “But we will require a single room, including my belongings. I have three other servants as well that will require a separate room.”

  Dexter fought his distaste at the wizard’s caustic nature. He nodded and after only a moment of thought said, “Hundred and fifty gold is standard fare for you and your servants, but I’m afraid that does not make a trip to Port Freedom worth it, that’s several weeks journey and I can’t pay my crew on that.”

  Ormitor sipped his wine at the same time that Dexter felt something brush against his leg. He glanced over at Jarnella and found her staring at him with a smoky smile on her face. The touch came again, sliding up the inside of his calf, confirming his suspicions that it was her foot, bereft of the sandal she had been wearing. Dexter quickly took a long pull of his own ale to hide the surprised expression on his face.

  “There are hidden bonuses to taking on my patronage, Captain,” Ormitor said, the intent of his words intentionally clouded in mystery.

  Dexter cleared his throat, secretly admitting that he had an idea what the wizard was referring to. Especially since Jarnella’s foot was passing his knee and seductively making its way up his thigh. “What sort of bonuses are those?” Dexter asked.