“He won't fall,” Violet assured Piper, giggling as Bandit played with her hair. “He likes me too.”
“The two of you are probably related.” A clicking on the coarse deck planking announced Quill's arrival. Like all Kelpies his legs bent backwards at the knee and ended in two hoof-like toes, so he rarely wore boots, going barefoot aboard the ship same as the rest of the crew. More of the crew were starting to appear now they were planetside.
“We're docked,” Quill told Nel, “and the vultures are gathering. Or should that be monkeys? Kin of yours, yes? Close cousins perhaps.” He eyed the loompa meaningfully.
“You might want to stow the attitude, Quill,” Nel said. “You're part of the reason we're here.”
“I was poisoned,” Quill was quick to remind her. “We should find ourselves a new cook while we're here, one who cooks more than she eats.”
Bandit made a chattering sound, drawing suspicious looks from both Nel and Quill.
“What does that thing want?” the Kelpie hissed.
“Bandit should not use language like that,” Piper shook his finger. “Where did you learn such things? What? From the skipper?” He turned to Nel, poised to start lecturing. She wasn't in the mood.
“Don't even start, Piper,” she warned him off.
“I'm feeling peckish,” Quill muttered. “Perhaps a bite of monkey might go down well. What do you say, Skipper? Get rid of the fur and the thing might make good eating.”
Bandit bared sharp teeth in a high pitched growl, taking refuge behind Violet.
“You leave him alone,” the cabin girl snapped. “Just cause something got under your scales—”
“My scales?” Quill sounded surprised. “Insolent brat.”
“Touch them and I will hammer your tail into the anchor, wizard,” Piper warned Quill when the Kelpie took a step forward.
“That's navigator, oaf,” Quill snarled. “Navigator, not wizard!”
Piper snorted. “They are the same thing.”
“Gods below,” Nel exclaimed, “quiet, all of you. We've got a ship to fix. None of you are helping. Quill, I'm going ashore, you're in charge 'til I or the captain gets back. You two,” she pointed at Piper and Violet, “are coming with me.”
“Where is the captain?” Violet asked, looking around. She stood on her tiptoes to scan the ship which made Bandit imitate her atop her shoulders. “Shouldn't he be here?”
“The captain likes the games,” Piper told her. “The captain is not good at the games, but likes them all the same.”
“He was the first one ashore,” Nel said dryly. “Always is at a place like this. He'll be back when he runs out of money.”
“Shouldn't he be . . . ,” Violet hesitated.
“What?” Nel asked.
The girl hesitated. “I don't know, running stuff? Instead of letting you do all the work all the time?”
Quill laughed. Nel glared at him.
“The captain is the captain. Nel is the skipper,” Piper told Violet. “This is how things are. This is what works. Even the wizard knows this.”
“Navigator,” Quill repeated irritably.
“Horatio has his quirks, but he's a good captain,” Nel told the girl. “We've all had worse, believe me.”
Violet looked unconvinced but it wasn't Nel's job to change her mind. They had a long list of repairs that needed to be made and standing around wasn't getting them done.
“Where's our guest?” Nel asked, casting her eye up and down the crew starting to line the rail. Violet wasn't the only one with a short memory and attention span. Sailors had an odd fascination with terra firma; they were always glad to see it but grew restless soon after.
“Anyone seen Sharpe?” she asked those around her. She received shaken heads from all of them.
“Maybe he went ashore with the captain,” Violet suggested.
“Or without him,” Quill muttered.
“You don't think he left, do you?” Violet was crestfallen. She'd been spending time with him since they picked him up, Nel recalled.
Nel shrugged. “We can hope.”
“Skipper!” Violet protested.
“He was never going to stay, Violet,” Nel said. “He wasn't part of the crew.”
“And he was Alliance,” Quill said.
“No he wasn't,” Violet protested. “He said he wasn't.”
Quill snorted. “Doesn't matter what he said, he was on an Alliance ship.”
“What's wrong with Alliance, anyway?” Violet asked the navigator.
“They're Alliance.” Quill shrugged.
“So?”
Quill shook his head. “Idiot girl.” He looked at Nel. “Haven't you taught her anything yet?”
“Watch your tone, navigator,” Nel said.
“Children shouldn't be allowed on ships, bad luck.” He glared at Bandit. “Neither should rodents.”
Violet turned her back on Quill, flicking her tail upwards at him. Bandit kept facing the navigator and shook his tiny fist at the Kelpie, screeching.
“Disgusting creatures, both of them,” Quill said.
“Quill, go up to the bridge,” Nell ordered. “You're on watch, remember? Try and find out where Sharpe got to, though I can't say as I'll miss him if he has jumped.”
“Aye,” Quill muttered. “And I won't shed any tears if you choose to lose a few more crew members ashore.” He made the word crew sound like an insult.
Piper laughed.
“What?” Quill said suspiciously.
“Your joke,” Piper said. “It was funny.”
“What joke? There was no joke!”
“Kelpies cannot shed tears,” Piper said. “So you will be crying on the inside, yes?”
Quill spluttered indignantly.
“You try very hard to pretend. Bandit was getting worried.”
Quill stared. “This is not funny,” he hissed. He appealed to Nel. “This is not funny!”
Nel thought it was funny.
But she didn't let on.
Violet noticed how hard the skipper avoided looking at Quill whilst they were leaving the ship. Quill had retreated to the bridge and was being given a wide berth by the crew remaining on the ship. She'd already checked that all the water barrels were tightly lashed. Nel led Piper and Violet ashore and straight to the toll collectors barring the way out of the docks.
“Chanel,” the man in charge of the check point leered. “Long time no see.”
“Oh, hells,” Violet heard the skipper mutter. “Just my luck.”
Violet tried not to stare. She hadn't been paying attention to where they were headed, eager to take in the sights and sounds of their latest port. She'd been hoping for a closer peek at those golems and how they worked. But she could count the number of times she'd heard anyone use Nel's full name on one hand and hadn't expected today to be one of those times. Personally she could never think of Nel as anything but the skipper. Anything else struck her as disrespectful, something someone like Quill might do.
“Brawn,” the skipper sighed, rocking back on her heels in front of the strapping man who blocked their path. The skipper doesn’t look happy, Violet thought. The man who'd greeted her was big, almost as big as Piper, with pale eyes and dark hair slicked back with oil. His arms were bare and sporting a sailor's tattoos. Violet picked out the ones that mentioned naval service and trips to the Far Lanes. Most prominent was the web-like design Violet had been seeing since they got to Cauldron. It covered one shoulder and much of his upper arm.
“You looked better last time,” the skipper told him. “When I'd been drinking.”
“You were a mess,” Brawn replied, to the amusement of the others at the checkpoint.
The skipper scowled. “Didn't put you off.”
“Nothing puts me off.”
“Pity.”
“Isn't it just?”
Piper leaned in close to the skipper. “Bandit will bite him if you give the words,” he whispered loud enough for Violet to hear. On her shoul
der Bandit tensed, shuffling around.
The skipper appeared to seriously consider it for a moment. But she shook her head.
“That your ship?” Brawn gestured towards the Tantamount with his ledger.
“You know it is,” the skipper frowned.
Brawn scribbled a note on his ledger. “Where's Captain Phelps?”
“What's it to you?” the skipper countered.
“Like to say hi to the captains when they pass through,” Brawn grinned. “Touch bases, familiar faces, that sort of thing. Phelps hasn't been this way in a time.”
“Try the poker tables,” was all the skipper suggested.
Brawn chuckled. “Yeah, I'll do that. Man loves his games. He's already ashore then?”
A shrug. “Didn't say that.”
“Didn't have to. Now what's wrong with your ship?”
“Nothing's wrong with my ship.”
“It's got a tree sticking out of it. You let the cabin girl steer or something?”
“It's a mast,” Violet told him, annoyed. “We found a smashed up ship out there.”
“You found what?” Brawn sounded surprised.
“Shush, Violet,” the skipper said, shaking her head slightly. Violet bit down on her tongue at the chastisement.
Brawn eyed her speculatively. “New kid, Chanel? She got something to say?”
“Not to you she doesn't.”
“When you say a smashed ship?” Brawn inquired with a frown.
“I mean something hit them and pieces of them hit us,” the skipper told him simply.
“What, right after it happened? You picking fights out there?” Brawn's eyes narrowed. “People think they can hide out on Cauldron. Doesn't mean we like them doing it. Not if folks are likely to come to Cauldron looking for them. You ought to remember that.”
“We were late to what happened out there,” the skipper said. “Got caught in the aftermath, that's all.”
“Sloppy work, girl,” Brawn mocked her. “Your pilot asleep on the watch?”
The skipper flinched slightly at that comment, though Violet doubted anyone else would notice. Still aboard and Quill was still causing the skipper grief.
“We done catching up, Brawn?” the skipper said. “Just tell me the toll so we can get this over with.”
“Well, now,” Brawn mused laconically. He gestured at the ship again. “There's a lot to consider. Landing fees, docking fees. Shore tax, that air you're sucking down ain't free, Chanel. You know that, right? Then there's the protection levy . . .”
“The what?” Violet could hear anger in the skipper's voice.
“Oh, yeah,” Brawn grinned. “Protection levy. You know what Cauldron's like, girl, all sorts of bad trouble just waiting to happen.”
The skipper's face darkened. It was clear even to Violet the man was trying to shake them down for coin, and not even being subtle about it. Whatever history the two had, Brawn was clearly enjoying his position of authority now.
“Real shame your captain ain't here, Chanel. He owes me for his last big win. All down to me that one was.” The man leered.
“I doubt that.”
Brawn chuckled. “And here was me thinking he sent you to settle his affairs for him. Now that'd be ironic. But you and me, we already had our fun. I've gone up in the world since the last time you were here.”
Bandit chose that moment to dig his claws into Violet's shoulder, causing her to cry out a little. She twisted, trying to make the loompa stop. He grabbed on with all four limbs and stared with wide, almost manic eyes at the toll collector. It was enough to draw his attention.
“Pretty young thing you got with you there, Chanel.” Brawn reached out and caressed Violet's hair with the back of his hand. Violet flinched away from that hand, feeling like something dirty had just touched her.
“Can't be too careful, why—”
He didn't get to finish as the skipper's knee came up sharply and connected with his groin. Brawn gave a sort of squeak and sunk to his knees in front of Violet. His men stared for a moment before reaching for weapons. Piper balled his fists expectantly, but Nel ignored them, not bothering to reach for the wand at her side.
The skipper spoke quietly, but loud enough for all to hear her. “You don't touch my crew. Not a one of them. Not ever.”
She crouched down beside Brawn, holding up a handful of dominions, trading currency. Coins that were taken anywhere and everywhere, usually at a favourable exchange rate.
“This is all you're getting,” she told him. “You want more, go pick on someone who doesn't know you like I do.”
She dropped the coins next to Brawn and gave him a shove. Brawn collapsed sideways, still clutching at his groin.
“Move,” the skipper said, glaring at his men.
They moved out of her way, some giving dark looks but none seemed willing to incite more trouble.
“Skipper? What was —” Violet started to say.
“Keep walking.” The skipper took a firm grip on the girl's elbow, dragging her along.
But Violet wasn't about to let it go. She rubbed at her face where the man had touched her. “Did you know that guy? Who was he?”
“Local muscle, appropriately named,” the skipper muttered, not slowing.
“He called you Chanel,” Violet exclaimed.
The skipper made a face, kept walking.
“Not even the captain calls you that,” Violet said aloud.
“So don't start,” the skipper warned her. The grip the skipper had on her arm tightened once reflexively.
“But . . .”
“He was a mistake, Vi.” They stopped, the skipper speaking plainly. “He and I. He was a mistake I made. He was drunk, hells, so was I. Really drunk. It was a bad time. Sometimes . . . everyone makes mistakes, all right?”
Violet brushed hair away from her face, staring up at the skipper. For once the skipper didn't meet her eyes. She was . . . upset.
“You could have done better,” Piper said.
“Nobody asked you,” the skipper said angrily.
“You are setting a bad example for us all,” Piper added. “Next time Bandit will do the biting.”
“Piper,” the skipper growled.
“If you continue to make such poor choices in life, I will have Quill do the biting as well,” Piper threatened. “It would not be the first either, he will do it.”
The skipper glared at him. “Stow it, Piper.” But there was just the hint of a smile at the edge of her mouth. Violet felt a grin spreading over her face. Then the image of Quill attached by his teeth to Brawn popped into her head and she couldn't hold it back.
“Oh, shut up, the both of you.” The skipper turned her back on them. “Move.”
“Aye, Skipper, as you say,” Piper called, striding after her. Violet hastened to catch up.
The skipper took them all the way to the commissioning office, through the warehouse district and a shanty market. Like everywhere else on Cauldron, there was a web emblem above the door.
“These guys are everywhere,” Violet commented as the skipper studied the outside of the building. There was no one else around but the path was well beaten, indicating heavy traffic.
“Like cockroaches,” Piper agreed. “They need a good stomping.”
“Would you two behave while we're here,” the skipper muttered.
“You were the one who beat up that guy at the checkpoint,” Violet said.
For the reminder she earned herself a vicious glare. “You should have taken notes.”
“Who should have? What notes?” Violet complained.
Piper reached out and enfolded Violet in one burly, tattooed arm, ruffling her hair affectionately. She pulled her head away.
“What?” she complained, looking up at Piper. He smiled and she settled down into a sulk.
“Let the skipper do the talking,” he said. “This is one of those times.”
“Fine,” Violet muttered. Shut up and listen. Be quiet and take notes. It's too ha
rd to explain. Always the same.
The skipper stared at the two of them. She didn't seem happy about what she saw. “Keep quiet,” she repeated before opening the door.
“Actually,” the skipper said before stepping into the office. “Just stay out here. And keep quiet.”
Violet sighed. Always the same.
The clerk at the desk inside the commissioning office barely looked up at Nel's entrance.
“Name?” he asked, not missing a beat as he ran a quill back and forth along a ream of parchment.
“Nel Vaughn —”
“Not yours,” the clerk interrupted. “Ship, company, office, faction. Something I might actually have heard of.”
“Tantamount,” Nel said shortly. “That's a ship, in case you're wondering.”
“Tantamount, Tantamount,” the man muttered, turning, and opened a filing cabinet behind him. The wooden drawer stuck and he tugged on it viciously. It came out with a swirl of dust. The clerk waved a hand to clear the air. “Equivalent, synonymous, as in equal to or near enough. That was Tantamount with a T?”
“Yes.”
The man plucked a file out of the drawer, swivelling back and laying it over his desk.
“What can I do for you?” the clerk asked, starting to page through the file.
“My ship needs repairs,” Nel said. “Hull breaches, decking, sails.”
“That will be expensive.”
“Surprise me.”
“Your ship has debt loaded against it,” the clerk pushed the file away. Nel scowled. That hadn't been the surprise she'd been hoping for. To be honest, it wasn't even much of a surprise.
She frowned. “You have that on file?”
“On the wall behind you, next to the door.”
Nel turned. Next to the door was a list of names. People, ships, organisations. All of them in bold red ink, meaning indebted. About halfway down the list was the captain's name.
“My ship's name isn't on that list,” she said, not willing to make the obvious mistake. There was a reason she hadn't used Horatio's name.
“Your captain's is,” the clerk said. He held up the file. “His name is in here, so is your ship's.”
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