Skyjackers - Episode 3: The Winds of Justice (Skyjackers: Season One)

by J. C. Staudt

  “This may be our ticket to success,” Harold Parsons agreed.

  “It’s settled, then,” said Benedict. “Each of the other ships will donate four crewmembers to the Intrepid for today alone. There’s only one thing left to decide. Whom shall I designate as captain of this vessel?”

  “Why don’t you take the command, Commodore? You deserve it.”

  “You’d like to be rid of me, wouldn’t you, Parsons?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way, sir, I—”

  “Relax, Parsons. I’m pulling your leg. Yes, of course. I must captain the Intrepid. That makes you temporary captain of the Cloudhopper. Shall we be off then?”

  “Aye, sir. I’ve a mind to win myself some Regency gold.”

  “There’ll be plenty of that to go round, Parsons. Make it so.”

  Misty stamped her foot. “But I want to be the captain, Daddy.”

  “Now, poppet. Daddy gave you your own ship to be the captain of.”

  “I’m tired of my ship. It’s little, and stupid. I want to sail the Intrepid. I found it. I should be in charge of it.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, my sweet.”

  “It is. It’s the best idea.”

  “Misty. I’m putting my foot down.”

  “I’ll attack the Justice on my own then. I don’t need you or any of your stupid boring rules.” Misty flung open the cabin door and bolted across the deck, slashing the lines holding the two ships together as she went. She leapt to the Intrepid and pushed off.

  When Benedict and his men came outside, the hulking dreadnought was shedding water from its hull as it rose from the Kailodos inlet.

  “Shall we follow her?” Cosgrove asked.

  Benedict sighed. “Let her go. She’ll have half the cannons armed to fire by the time we’re airborne. I don’t know how she does it sometimes.”

  “Does what, sir?”

  “Misty is not my least favorite child, Cosgrove. You might think she is, but I love her just the same as the others. She’s more cunning, wicked, and shrewd than the rest of the family put together. But I’ll be buggered if she doesn’t inspire me to try harder every day. I have to, just to keep up with her.”

  “I see, sir.”

  “No, not quite. We’ve no choice but to go through with this now. We must make ready to shove off at once and hope we arrive at the attack point before this whole thing goes to rack and ruin. And it’s all thanks to my lovely daughter, who is never satisfied with failure and doesn’t know the meaning of defeat.”

  ***

  “Jonathan, you must come home at once. Mother has never been this bad before. Last night while I was asleep, she emptied all the cabinets and started packing everything into boxes. She keeps saying ‘they can’t put their things here,’ as though our things belong to someone else.”

  Jonathan could hear the urgency in his sister’s voice. “I’ve just arrived on a very important escort mission,” he told her. “I can’t get away at the moment.”

  “You’re always too busy for us anymore,” Winifred said. “I knew this command would change you, Jon.”

  “Winny, that’s not fair. If it were any other circumstance, you know I’d come running.”

  “You haven’t been home since the day you graduated the academy. Mother is getting worse all the time. I don’t know how much longer I can handle her like this.”

  “Don’t say that, Win. I’m doing everything I can. You’ve been getting the money I’ve posted, haven’t you?”

  “Is that a fair replacement for being here with your mother? What do you think she’ll remember; letters packed with paper, or the times she saw your face?”

  “Winny. Don’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me feel like the worst person in the world.”

  “All I’m trying to say is that we miss you.”

  “That’s not all it is, Win. If only it were. Sure, I could take some menial job as a shop assistant in town, but that’s not for me. And it’s not what’s best for this family. If I could be a sky marshal and be home all the time, I would.”

  “No you wouldn’t. You hate it here. You talk about how depressing it is; how old everything has gotten. Now everyone’s moved away, and Mum and I are the only ones left from the old days. The neighborhood is different.”

  “Win, I promise I will be home the very second I am able.”

  Winifred sighed. It was a sigh Jonathan had become all too familiar with. The sound of giving up. Of being let down. “Mean it?”

  “Mean it,” Jonathan said, and he did.

  ***

  The Caine fleet was trailing Misty toward the attack point when a setback presented itself. A different fleet, one larger and stronger than Benedict’s, appeared a few minutes after they left the safety of Kailodos and headed out over the ocean. The lookouts alerted their respective captains, who then all tried to contact the Cloudhopper via bluewave radio at the same time. The ensuing confusion was so great that by the time Benedict was able to work out a course of action, the fleet found themselves surrounded.

  Benedict and his crew knew this fleet. They knew it quite well, in fact. Many of them had served aboard several of its ships in their younger days. He could see the fires of long-standing rivalry burning in their eyes, even before the first boarding party arrived on deck. Its centerpiece, a man who towered above the rest, stepped forward.

  “Well. If it isn’t the scurviest first mate a captain could ever ask for,” said Archibald ‘Greenbeard’ McCracken with a doff of his extravagantly-sized tricorn.

  “It isn’t,” said Benedict. “I mean—I’m not. I’m a Commodore now. Anyway, what do you want, Greenbeard? I’m very busy.”

  “Gods spank me with a flounder if you ain’t the same old codger you ever was. Happy birthday, ya salty maggot.” Archibald McCracken stroked a beard as vibrant as an early spring meadow—and probably, Benedict suspected, inhabited by as many diminutive arthropods. McCracken was known to keep a dyer on retainer to ensure he affected such an appearance at all times. He wrapped Benedict in a tight embrace. “Blow me down, it’s good to see you, Ben.”

  Benedict was suspicious. He had once buried a chest of silver and returned a few weeks later to find it dug up, emptied, and buried again in the same place. Greenbeard was the only living soul Benedict had told about the chest, yet he had vehemently denied taking the silver. Benedict hadn’t trusted him since.

  “Are you surprised?” Gertrude’s fingers on Benedict’s elbow made him jump.

  “Criminy, Gertrude. How long have you been standing there?”

  “This is your surprise birthday party, Ben. Are you bewildered with delight?”

  “Something like that. Though I would prefer to have been informed of this surprise in advance. What’s this all about, Archie?”

  “It’s about friendship,” said Greenbeard. “Come now, Ben. Don’t be cross with your old pal Greenbeard.”

  “Archie and I have been planning this for months,” said Gertrude. “We wanted to treat you. After all, a man only turns fifty-three once in his life.”

  “That’s why I’d like to invite you most cordially, along with your family and crew, aboard my vessel for dinner, drinks, and dancing, followed by cake and presents,” said Greenbeard. “We’ve decorated the whole Wind Titan in honor of the event.”

  Benedict was no less suspicious than he had been a moment ago. Was this some trick? Some trap? Had Greenbeard learned of the Justice’s voyage and come to distract him so he could make off with the treasure himself? Benedict turned to Gertrude. “What about Misty?”

  “Misty will be fine, darling. It’s not us who should be worried about her. It’s the rest of the world.”

  “Is something amiss with your daughter?” Greenbeard asked.

  “She’s run off,” said Benedict. “Seems my children are always running off these days.”

  Gertrude put a comforting hand on her husband’s back. “Lighten up, Ben. Enjoy yourself for
once.”

  “But ducky-lumps… there was that… other thing… we were supposed to be doing today.”

  “Really, Ben. You should know better than to schedule other things on your birthday.”

  That was it, then. There was no getting out of this. Benedict would have to wait for another golden opportunity and hope Misty didn’t do anything rash in the meantime. He glanced down to make sure he was wearing his cutlass. “You first, Archie.”

  “As the birthday boy wishes,” Greenbeard said with a bow.

  When the bearded wonder started toward his vessel, Benedict leaned over to Curtis Cosgrove. “Be ready for anything. Don’t let him catch you off your guard.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “And one more thing. Fetch Xan Janakki from the Moonmist. I’ve got a job for him.”

  The Wind Titan was regaled in finery. Streamers ran from the ceilings. Appetizers were arranged on silver standing trays. There were even floral arrangements. After sending Xan Janakki ahead of him in line to test the wine and food for poison, Benedict stood off to one side and observed the partygoers with hawk-eyed wariness. He didn’t begin to let his guard down until the chamber quartet began to play and Gertrude took his hand and led him to the dance floor.

  Three hours later, Benedict was several sheets to wind.

  “Are you having a lovely time?” Gertrude asked him.

  “I’m afraid I am rather intoxicated, my little crumpet-noodle. So… yes. I’m enjoying myself so much, I may have to turn fifty-three again next year.”

  Gertrude laughed. “I’m so pleased to hear it. You deserve this, Ben. You really do.”

  “Quite the soiree, Dad,” said Junior, sidling up to them. “Many happy returns on your birthday.”

  “Thank you, son. You know, tonight has made me realize how truly blessed I am. I’m finding more and more that the problem with having so much is that it can all be taken from you.”

  “That’s the benefit of being a pirate, though, isn’t it? If someone takes your things, you can go steal someone else’s.”

  “I’m not talking about things, son. I’m talking about you. Your mother. Your sisters. There’s no replacement for the ones you love.” Benedict began to tear up. “Heavens, look at me. Blubbing like a tomfool.”

  Gertrude took the wine glass from his hand. “Alright, I think we’d better slow down. This party has been a welcome diversion for all of us, but that’s no reason to run off the rails.”

  “Wait a minute,” Benedict said, suddenly looking more sober. “All that rubbish about Duncan Trice feeding our whereabouts to Greenbeard… that was all so he could find me and throw me a birthday party?”

  “You’re a hard man to fool, Ben.”

  Benedict looked at his son. “Junior. There’s been a misunderstanding. You needn’t put out Trice’s tongue after all.”

  “I haven’t,” said Junior.

  “Do I take that to mean you’ve flagrantly defied my orders?”

  “I believe so, Dad.” Junior winced, bracing himself for the verbal blow.

  “Jolly good. I dare say, I expected as much.”

  Junior was astonished. “You knew I wouldn’t do it?”

  “Quiet down, Junior,” said Gertrude. “It looks as though Archie is getting ready to say a few words.”

  With a wave of his hand, Greenbeard silenced the chamber quartet and the party guests all at once. He stepped onto a flat box at the front of the room, as if he needed the extra height, and cleared his throat. “We’ll do presents in a moment. First, I’d like to propose a toast to my dear friend Benedict. Many of you know him as the former first mate of this very steamer. But Ben Caine is his own man now. Through the years, he’s achieved immeasurable success in his own right. So I think it’s only fitting that we recognize him for his accomplishments. We may be competitors now, in a sense. But we’ve been through storm and sunshine together; good times, and bad. We had adventures in the old days that I’ll never forget. We honor you today, Ben, for the man you once were and the man you’ve become. Salutations, my old friend. This one’s for you.”

  Benedict tensed. He couldn’t explain why, except that he expected something violent and catastrophic was about to happen.

  It didn’t.

  The partygoers clinked their glasses, gave Benedict congratulatory glances and handshakes, and began murmuring amongst themselves.

  Greenbeard quieted them again. “I know you must be antsy to open your gifts, Ben,” he continued, “but I’d like to present you with a very special one this year, if I may. Mr. Yancey?”

  Greenbeard’s quartermaster handed Benedict a wrapped package the size of a cigar box. It was heavy, but nothing moved within when he turned it to slip a finger beneath the wrapping paper. He tore the paper away to reveal a smooth wooden box, finished in dark lacquer. He turned it over in his hands. “What is it?”

  “A puzzle box. Only by discovering its secrets will you collect its contents.”

  “Curious,” said Benedict. “Quite unique.”

  Greenbeard smiled. “The table of gifts at left is for you to ransack at your leisure.”

  The party continued long into the evening. After cake and coffee had been served, Greenbeard and his crew said their goodbyes to Benedict and his. The tension between them had dissipated to such a degree that an outside observer might’ve assumed the two sailing crews were the best of friends. The Wind Titan and its cohorts sailed off into the skies, leaving Caine and his fleet in a state of exhaustion.

  “What do you suppose is inside that puzzle box Archie gave you?” Gertrude asked later, as she and Benedict were in their cabin preparing for bed.

  “Who cares?” said Benedict. “Mystery is overrated. It’s a rather useless gift, if you ask me.”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  “Only Greenbeard would ever give me a present I have to work for.”

  Chapter 19

  The Dawnhammer had been following the Justice and its convoy for several hours when the first sign of trouble appeared. Vivian was the first to spot the dreadnought-class airship in the distance, headed on a collision course for the Justice. By the time the lookout in the crow’s nest called down to report the sighting, Vivian was already peering through her spyglass to read the name off the ship’s stern: Intrepid. That sounded familiar. It looked like the sort of vessel that might’ve been part of the escort, only it was far too big for such a job, rivaling the Justice itself in size.

  “Surely that vessel can’t be joining the convoy,” Vivian said.

  Cork Buffner’s earrings clinked when he shook his head. “Looks like a hostile approach to me, mam.”

  “It would appear someone has gotten wind of the Justice’s cargo and come to preempt Father’s burglary.”

  “Begging your pardon, Captain,” said Rita Boscoe, the lookout, “but that ain’t someone else. That’s your sister.”

  Vivian shifted her spyglass. The young brunette behind the wheel of the approaching dreadnought was none other than Misty Josephine Caine. The Intrepid’s deck appeared otherwise empty. Vivian wondered whether the Justice and its escorts had tried contacting the Intrepid via bluewave radio yet. More than that, she wondered how Misty had managed to commandeer it, and whether this stunt was part of some elaborate plot on Father’s part.

  A ship’s bell clanged in the distance. The smaller vessels in the convoy began taking evasive action, splitting off from the group to give the Justice room to maneuver. It was too little too late.

  The Intrepid rammed the Justice at full speed, striking a direct blow to its starboard side. Wood splintered. Boards creaked. Sailors dove for cover.

  “What in the heavens is she doing?” Vivian said.

  “Making a real mess of things, looks like,” said Rita.

  “We’ve got to help her. She doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into. Full steam, Mr. Buffner. Right standard rudder.”

  Buffner repeated the command.

  The Dawnhammer lurched beneath
its bag and accelerated toward the convoy. Vivian sensed her crew’s apprehension. She knew they were taking an idiotic risk by engaging the convoy alone. Foolhardy or no, Misty was her sister. Vivian would do everything in her power to keep her from harm.

  The convoy appeared to be so preoccupied with avoiding a collision that no one even noticed the Dawnhammer approaching. Vivian saw Misty sprint across the Intrepid’s deck and leap across to the Justice. There she drew her sword, intending to fight her way through the marshals. The marshals ran right by her, scrambling to perform damage control.

  The Intrepid had punched a jagged hole in the Justice’s hull and was stuck there by its bowsprit and forestays. The Justice’s crew were clustered at its starboard side, trying to devise a solution for separating the two vessels before they both sustained irreparable damage. Vivian navigated the Dawnhammer into the opening left by the convoy and brought her alongside the Justice’s opposite flank. When she pulled up, Misty was nowhere to be seen.

  “What happened to her?” Vivian shouted, hoping someone in her crew would know. “Where’s she gone?”

  “I saw her running for the aft hatch, mam,” said Rita Boscoe.

  “Mr. Buffner, take the wheel,” said Vivian. “Keep moving, but stay close if you can.”

  “You’re not thinking about boarding the Justice… are you, Captain?” Buffner asked.

  “My sister is over there, Mr. Buffner. The time for thinking has passed.”

  A thunderous report shook the Dawnhammer. For an instant, Vivian thought the ship’s powder magazine may have exploded. When she looked left, she saw the smoking cannons of a sky marshal cutter. “They’re firing on us?” she said. “They could’ve hit the Justice with that volley.”

  “Clearly it was more important to hit us,” said Audrey Giles, Vivian’s quartermaster. “Orders, Captain?”

  “I’d rather not start a war we can’t win, Ms. Giles. Stand down for now. I want a full damage report when I get back.”

  “And if they fire again?”

  Vivian sighed. “Hit them in the bags and see if you can disable them. Let’s try not to kill anyone, shall we?”