The crew of the Corona bent over the shape of a man, whose skin slowly regained the colour of life. He had washed up into the ship's atmospheric envelope just a few minutes ago. They had fished him on board, cautioned by the ship's two priests, that he might be an undead being. As the man's eyes flashed open, one of the priests held a holy symbol into his direction, praying with power, to drive the living dead away. "I am still alive," the man said with a faint smile. His voice was soft and broken. "I cast a spell to suspend myself in eternal slumber, when I was cast overboard by the boarding party, who believed me to be dead. I may well be in need of healing."
One of the priests bent over him, the face now showing sincere concern. He cast another prayer over the stranger. "Thank you Wanderer of the Skies," he said. The priest was surprised the stranger knew his correct title. Slowly the newcomer stood up, not yet trusting his legs to carry his body. He checked his robes and fingers, finding, to his relief, all rings and pouches to be there. "I am a war mage of Unidar, but we lost against Neogi. I trusted my fate to the World Ocean rather than them." Captain Carlos asked: "Where did you meet the death spider?" The mage shrugged: "Three days from Oz'Nihead towards the unexplored stream to the northeast. It was the 3.February.4032. The more interesting question is: How long ago was that?"
"Ten years," Carlos said. "We are freelancing companions, so you don't have to worry about our allegiance. I think our countries are currently at odds." The mage shrugged. "Possible. There has always been tension, but I am more worried about the Neogi and the Illithids. We were on our way to find out, were both suddenly came from. Neither species had been spotted until... fifteen years ago. I will have to rest, before I can do any but the simplest magic. Suspended slumber is not truly relaxing." The priest, who had treated him nodded in agreement. "Let him sleep."
When the mage Jonathan Spiderbane awakened, he knew he was ready to memorise spells. It took him an hour as usual, the incessant light of the World Ocean providing more than enough illumination to read his spellbooks. When he was done, his eyes narrowed. He went to the deck and asked the captain: "Why did we drop to tactical speed?" Carlos asked: "How do you know?" Jon shrugged. "I am a wizard. Do you have a crystal ball? I had to leave mine behind." The captain nodded and led him into a chamber. A wizard was already sitting there, committing spells to memory.
The other wizard looked up in surprise, as Jon spoke a strange incantation over the crystal ball. Another ship appeared within. It was a pirate sabre. A slender ship optimised for speed and manoeuverability. It had a slender build and a pair of crystal wings shaped like sabres. They could be used to shear the rigging of other ships. "We cannot outrun them," Jon said. He let the magic eye wander over the deck, until he found a woman. She was beautiful, tall and lithe, but her silken skin hid the strength of a warrior. The wizard smiled faintly. "This may be of help." Neither the other wizard, nor the captain were still looking, as they were already making battle plans.
"Do you have a spare sword?" Jon asked. "Sure," Carlos said. The other wizard asked: "What was that spell you used on the crystal ball?" Jon replied: "When a spelljammer drops to tactical speed, the helm has detected something close enough to be potentially harmful. The incantation links the scyring device with the helm, directly focusing on the disturbance. It is the best, and often only, way to find something in the phlogiston, before it comes for you. I thought everybody knew that." The captain and the wizard looked at each other. "The sword is not for you," Carlos said. "It is for her."
"She is a Lilian noble, trained to fight, but a prisoner on that ship. If the captain has taken a fancy, or if he just wants a ransom, I cannot say. I think something happened to her mind, but she should remember enough, when her hand closes around the hilt of a sword." Carlos nodded. He and Jon went to the deck and the wizard was given a sword. He tested it himself. "Should be good enough," he said. Jon cast another spell, which summoned a shining disk in the air. He threw the sword through it from above. They returned to the crystal ball.
The sword darted through the air, hit the deck and shivered from the force of the impact. A woman looked at the weapon with emerald eyes. She had been freed from slavery, only to find herself in the company of jackals. Imprisoned on the aftercastle, constantly staring at the rainbow swirl of the phlogiston, the substance of the World Ocean. Occasionally she was subject to the cruel passion of one of the men, or the captain, but a strange dullness kept her from registering, what happened. Faint memories of an older life stirred, of a life not unlike the one of the pirates. Wild and bloody, until her mind was overthrown by creatures she had never seen before. Unseen observers she did not see hoped she would not hesitate far longer.
Slowly her strong hand closed on the weapon. She had always possessed great physical strength, but she forgot how to use it. Without any obvious effort she pulled the blade from the wood and weighed it in her hands. It was balanced a bit too far to the tip and a bit heavy, but it would do. Remembrance of hours after hours spent training to fight flooded over her. The dullness of one watching life without care or passion faded from her eyes to be replaced by anger and hatred. The woman advanced towards the main deck of the ship, when a man intercepted her path. "Go back were you belong," he commanded.
"No," she said, her voice so cold it could have frozen stars. She raised her sword. She was only wearing the short skirt she had been given, but there was nothing harmless left in her. The man translated her message to: "You bloody bastard kept me as a prisoner here and now you will pay." He snarled: "Get back." The woman just stared at him with hateful eyes. With a rough sound he drew his own sabre, his face turning into a leering smile. After all, how much danger could a neigh skyclad woman with a sword be? He attacked quickly and ruthlessly, with amazing finesse.
The smile faded even more quickly than it had appeared. The sword in the hands of the woman seemed to become a snake of living steel, ever so often biting his flesh, cruelly inflicting one painful wound after another. "I should let you bleed to death like the pig you are," she said without ceasing to fight. There was not a hint of strain in her voice. The sword sheathed itself in his flesh, piercing his heart, coming out on his back for a moment like a tongue of flame. "Bastard," she said with feeling. The cold hate left her eyes to be replaced by the unquenched smouldering of the barbarian. She descended to the deck, fiery eyes surveying the crew.
"When you kill us all, you cannot fly the ship," someone shouted "You don't know that," she said. "Besides there is another ship nearby. They gave me this sword and are watching me even know. I can see the magic eye of a crystal ball." She whirled her bloodied blade. Her voice gained additional strength. "I am Jean de'Maraiya. You have two choices: Follow my command or die." There was a moment of silence, punctuated only be the creaking of the ship. Then the whole crew surged forward. Jean sighed: "Why does it always come to this?"
She slaughtered them all, the unerring warrior instinct letting her dance on the bloodied deck, when all others slipped and stumbled. She was a perfectly balanced fighter, wild, skilled and dangerous. Blood trickled through the planks and washed over the deck. Jean shook her head and walked among the corpses, trying to find a better sword, but there was none. The off-watch came to deck and looked at what had happened. Frightened and confused, their lead officer finally turned to the woman. "What the hell boarded us?" he asked. "I did," she said, eyes still burning with bloodlust.
The man realised she would take on all the crew. The fire in her eyes and the carnage on deck told him, she was capable of winning.
"We should dock now," Jon said. "I desire to meet her again." Carlos asked: "You know her?" Jon nodded. "I met her at the Royal Mystics Academy. She was supposed to be instructed as a psion. Unfortunately she threw her studies and sought a live of adventure. It was easy for the Illithids to enslave her, being psionically aware, but untrained." Carlos asked: "How does one dock with a sabre?" Jon replied: "Stern to stern, on the same height level, as with all winged ships. The manoeuvering may be a bit tricky."
Several minutes later, the other ship was in sight. There was still a heavy thud of wood meeting wood, as the two vessels met. Only Jon went on board the other ship. He met the woman near the aftercastle and told the officer: "Leave us alone for a moment." The still shaken man nodded and moved away. Man and Woman went on the aftercastle, looking into the phlogiston. "You made three mistakes," Jon said. "First, you killed the captain in front of the crew and unnecessarily cruelly. Second, he was a proxy for the illithids, through which they controlled the crew. They were still spellbound, when they attacked you. If you had given them enough time to recover, the slaughter may have been unnecessary. Third, you did not look what happened to the the pirate captain."
He nodded his head in the direction, where the corpse should be. There was only blood, but no body. "Obviously they put a contingency on him. He must have been valuable to the mind flayers." Jean asked: "How do you know about... these creatures?" Jon replied: "I have met the first Illithid, before you came to the Academy. I knew they were psions. You have the talent for psionics, but no formal training. You could have spared yourself four years of slavery, had you not run away." She glared at him. "I did not know there were creatures like that." Jon shrugged. "You ran away, before you even knew what the training would do for you."
Jean sighed. "It is a bit too late to return isn't it?" Jon nodded. "There is an ethar outpost in the Sibran Ice Field. There you are most likely to find tutelage. Ethar are wild and fey beings, much like yourself. I know you are at least half fey." This time there was surprise in her eyes. "We should stop at Skullport to replenish the crew and replace those, who do not want to follow our command. I am Lord Jonathan "Spiderbane" Cranobly, if you were wondering. I was given a task to find out, how the Illithids and Neogi come into this area of space."
Jean said: "The colonies are not well established and mostly draw vagabounds like this crew, or ourselves." Jon shook his head and looked her straight into the eyes. Softly he said: "The threat is far greater. Both species seem to have vast resources and there is a potential risk of all of us, including everybody on our homeworlds, to become slaves to one or the other, if they establish a solid foothold in this area of space, as weakly defended as it is. There is no need to tell the crew yet. We still need safe passage to Skullport."
Jon returned to his normal voice: "I will tell the Corona to disengage and find the 1st Lieutenant of this ship, if s/he is still alive. You should find something a bit more decent to dress." She looked at his back, as he went to the stern of her ship and changed a few words with those on the other ship, then he went to the crew of Jean's ship. She had seriously missed the intelligent mage. He was not a good leader, but she needed him to do the thinking and the planning. There was another reason, of course, speaking out of her libido. He was a strangely handsome man, far stronger than a bookish wizard had a right to be.
He returned with a handsome woman, who looked at the captain in her short revealing dress and light sandals with some disgust. "Bitch," she muttered. "I heard that," Jean said. "What do you expect from a Nymph?" The other woman stared at Jean long and hard, but there was no blink or going back in those green eyes. "I am Claire Hercule, the 2nd Lieutenant of this ship," she said, when she could bear no more. Jean was a head taller than her and almost unnaturally beautiful. "You are the 1st Lieutenant now," Jon said. "I am sure the original holder of this position is among the corpses down there. Set us on the shortest course to Skullport."
"Without bounty?" Claire asked. "We lost a third of the crew," Jean said. "There is little raiding so short on people." The officer sighed. "Call your watch off the deck," Jon said. "We have some cleaning up to do. If you want to give the others a proper sailor's burial, you should secure them on the ship." Claire saluted and followed her orders. Jon cast another spell, summoning a wave of water from the very matter of the World Ocean. Jean dropped her dress and stood in its middle, as the water broke over her and over the deck. The blood washed over board and only a handful of corpses were left to bury.
"We should call an officer's meeting, once the service is done," Jean said. Jon just nodded in agreement, his thoughts strangely occupied. The whole crew was now assembled to bid farewell to the five dead. "We give their bodies to the Flow, until its glow fade and may the gods have mercy on their souls," quoth Jean. "John Star, 2nd coxswain. Carmen Rodriguez, 3rd lieutenant,..." While she spoke the names, each body, tied into a sack was dropped under the Jolly Roger, with the blessing of the ship's only priest, fell to the ships gravity, bobbed a few times on the virtual water line and slowly floated into the World Ocean, soon to disappear out of sight forever.