Kragor’s boots.”
“Not with them dainty elf feet,” Dexter said, altering his voice in a poor imitation of Kragor.
They both grinned at the good natured jest. A brief moment passed before Dexter said, “alright, it’s done then.”
“What’s done? Who’s it to be?” Jenna asked, her curiosity making her lean forward. “Don’t tell me I have to answer to Rosh!”
Dexter smiled and stood up. He moved past Jenna, who stared at him with suspiciously narrowed eyes. She stood up as he opened his door and stepped out, heading towards the staircase to the main deck. She hurried after and caught up to him as he was calling everyone that was on the deck together.
“The ‘Hawk needs a new First Mate,” Dexter said loudly. “Ain’t a one of you that can replace Kragor, nor anyone out there that could. All the same, after me, Jenna’s in charge of the ship. Treat her like you would me… except better, since you don’t treat me half as good as you ought to.”
Jenna glared at Dexter. She had suspected he might do something like that, and she knew better than to protest, especially in front of the others. Instead she turned to look at the others, which consisted of everyone except Bekka, who was on the helm.
Keshira and Bailynn said nothing, they simply accepted it. Bailynn did look somewhat fearfully at Jenna for a moment, but the expression quickly passed. Rosh, on the other hand, looked frustrated. Xander seemed unconcerned about the change of events, and maintained a look of placid uneasiness that bordered on misery at his homeless situation.
“Xander, you admit to owing me a debt; you just became the ‘Hawks wizard. When I don’t have you doing wizarding things, you’re to help out on the deck,” Dexter said.
Rosh opened his mouth to protest but Dexter cut him off. “Rosh, you’re the new Arms master.”
Rosh’s expression changed to one of introspection, which then morphed into a grin. “Hey Cap, does that mean I get my own room?”
Dexter frowned and could feel Jenna staring at him without even needing to look in her direction. He opened his mouth to respond but saw Jodyne staring at him from behind the rest of them. He found he did not know what to say, but Jodyne saved him from the awkward moment.
“I’ll move my things,” she offered.
Dexter nodded, feeling small and petty for having not thought the situation through. He realized he could have and should have handled it better, but now it was too late for any of that.
“Take your time, Jodyne. There’s no rush and don’t let Rosh tell you otherwise,” Dexter said. “Besides, he only gets Jenna’s room.”
“Now get to work, the ‘Hawk don’t fly herself!” Dexter snapped, anxious to keep everyone busy and to get himself some time alone to beat his head against a wall. His only pause before shutting himself in his room was to stop by the bridge and inform Bekka of the crew changes. She nodded distantly, her mind split between manning the helm and listening to Dexter, but offered him a smile of support at his decisions. Dexter was grateful for that, at least.
He spared himself any feelings of true relief until he was alone in his cabin, with both doors barred and a bottle of brandy and two cups sitting on the table in front of him. He filled them both then just stared at them as he finally gave in and let the memories of his lifelong friend come to him.
Dexter had met Kragor when he was just a boy maybe a dozen years old. The dwarf had stopped him from picking the pocket of a sailor that was heading into a bar, in fact. Considering himself busted, Dexter panicked and tried to escape the iron grip of the dwarf, but he had been unable to do so. Instead of turning him in though, Kragor had sat Dexter down and had a talk with him, convincing him that nicking purses was only the way to an early grave.
They had become friends, if a bit unlikely, and had shared many adventures over the years. Dexter sniffed and reached for his drink, raising it slowly while staring at the amber liquid in it. He smiled and saluted the other glass on the table, already missing his gruff but fun companion.
Dexter coughed and sprayed the brandy out his mouth and nose as he tried to drink it. He jumped to his feet, gasping not only from the stinging pain in his sinuses, but also from the sight that he had seen. Standing next to the table and staring at him with a smile was a ghostly image of Kragor.
“I’m mad then,” Dexter mumbled after several moments of trying to recover his wits.
Kragor reached for the small tumbler of brandy but scowled when his hand passed through it. He looked back to Dexter and shrugged, then winked and faded quickly away. Dexter stared at the spot until the apparition could no longer be seen, then he stared at the spare cup. His eyes widened when he saw that it had been knocked over and the alcohol spilled onto the table.
Dexter grabbed the bottle and drank straight from the mouth, having no other recourse left to him. He coughed at the fire in his throat and belly, but stared around wild eyed. Kragor was dead and gone, his body given to the void. If he had seen him, even a ghost of him, surely Dexter was losing his mind.
The captain kept drinking, trying to make some sense of it. Instead of lucidity though he only found the peace of an alcohol induced sleep. His last thoughts before passing out were that he must keep his vision to himself, or else his crew would know him for being crazed and sure to mutiny against whatever he planned.
Chapter 7: Reunion
“Captain, might I-“
“What?” Dexter interrupted the wizard. He turned from where he was staring out the window on the bridge of the Voidhawk and gazed at the man with eyes that betrayed exhaustion.
“I was wondering if you’d share where we’re headed?” Xander asked after a moment of shock. He realized that Dexter was taking the death of the first mate much harder than he had imagined — even though it had only been a week.
Dexter stared at him for a long moment, then glanced at one of the charts on the table. Finally he shrugged and admitted, “ain’t picked a destination, truth be told.”
“We’re deep in the void…Sir,” Xander said, speaking carefully because he suspected that Dexter might have an even shorter leash than usual, concerning him.
Dexter squinted at him suspiciously. “What’re you getting at, wizard?”
Xander took a breath and stepped closer to the charts. “I’ve been studying the stars. It’s near the edge of the known Void, but I know of a port we could go to. Lots of work there, I’ve heard, and anything you want can be had for a price.”
Dexter frowned. “Anything I want? You trying to bribe me or something? Or are you looking for a place to jump ship?”
Xander shook his head without hesitation. He moved to the chart and picked up a quill. He marked it on the chart after studying it briefly and said, “I’ve never been there. I’ve just heard and read about it. It’s not a part of the Federation or the Empire, it’s neutral and nobody bothers with it, it’s so far out. Lots of rules there, and they don’t get much in the way of visitors so traders are welcome.”
“Lots of rules? You just said anything for a price?”
“Aye, anything for a price…legally. That’s part of the rules.”
Dexter frowned again. “What’s it called and if it ain’t human or elven, who runs it?”
“A race of giant-kin run it, and it’s called Azmea,” Xander said. “They are a type of ogre, dark skinned and extremely intelligent, not as mindless or cruel as their more simple brethren.”
Dexter’s eyes widened. “Sounds like a fun place,” he said dryly.
“There are many of them, yes, but they are outnumbered by the other humanoid races on the planet. Nonetheless they rule the world and it remains civilized, if a bit violent.”
“Violent?” Dexter asked, glancing at Bekka who was once again on the helm. She continued to tend to the business of operating the ship, however, and showed no interest in their conversation.
“Disputes are often settled in an arena, I had read. And likewise, it is quite common for territories — city- states, kingdoms, fiefs, or whatever they call them — to go to war with one another. Sometimes, in fact, battles are
