“Much as I itch to be away from those ships,” she said, handing the scope back to Dug, “better we don’t move any faster than the flotsam. Stay a shadow against it. No sudden movements. Those Imperials sight us, they’ll run us down without effort.”
“And the Yu’Nyun?” He snapped the scope back into its pouch and tucked his hands under his arms. Dug’s tribe came from humid jungles and warm breezes, and he did not enjoy the biting gusts of open air. When they got their cargo back to Subrosa to exchange it for money, she’d tell him to spend some of his cut on a pair of gloves. “If they see us?”
Talis leaned her head back to try to relieve some of the tightness in her neck, which ached from her time in the descent suit. Coming back up to two unwelcome guests hadn’t helped the tension. The aliens had a reputation for being curious, and something about Peridot fascinated them. Since they’d arrived months ago, they’d been exploring the ruins, libraries, and cities across all four territories. They could be a nuisance when they interrupted business or got invasively interested in someone who would prefer to be left alone. All the races had tried to be friendly and cooperative, warned against seeming rude by their governments. But if the aliens got in the middle of Wind Sabre’s escape… Talis made an attempt to massage her own shoulders.
“They worry me less than that Imperial ship.” She frowned and chewed the inside of her lip. “But it’s like you said. All of us together, over this one patch of garbage? This breeze carries rot. I want to get our featherweight cargo to its buyer before this job blows up like a senile Rakkar’s laboratory.”
Dug handed her the scope again and moved off toward the wheelhouse to convey her orders to Tisker.
She stood in silence at Wind Sabre’s railing, scope locked on the pair of ships as they grew smaller. Trying to control the bounce in the viewfinder, she forced herself to breathe slowly. Out in the skies, the pumpkins were lavender, tinted with gold at the vines and along the ribs. Their glow would be at full strength in a couple of hours.
Flotsam didn’t spin fast enough to get them away from the area with any haste. At some point before golden dawn, Wind Sabre would have to make her escape or be spotted.
The lines creaked above her, tethering the buoyant lift balloon to the weight of the hull beneath it. Wood creaked. The steam engines at mid-deck hissed and hummed within their housings, puffing hot air up into the envelope and feeding pressure to the pair of turbine thrusters mounted to either side of the rudder. Through the soles of her boots, she could feel the rumble of Sophie’s belt-driven stoker rig as it tumbled dark bricks into the firebox two decks down. Talis fingered her prayerlocks, this time asking for their luck to hold. She loved the little songs her ship sang as it was under way, but now she wished the old girl knew how to whisper.
Paranoia. At this distance the noises should be lost before they reached that Imperial ship. She’d invested a dozen contracts’ worth of earnings to insulate the hull and the engine compartments, and knew her ship was as quiet as they came.
She laced her fingers into her ’locks and gave them another tug. Begged Silus Cutter that finding the ring would be the start of a lucky run, not the end of one.
The Imperial ship began to move. It peeled away from the Yu’Nyun starship and angled its bow to a trajectory that would intercept Wind Sabre’s current course.
Silus must have been too busy to perceive her wish.
Talis clapped the scope shut, yelling orders as she ran aft toward the wheelhouse.
“Kick those boilers and shift it to the thrusters!” she bellowed. “We’ve been spotted!”
Chapter 3
The Imperial ship was called The Serpent Rose. Talis got a look at its designation as it pulled away from the Yu’Nyun. Lighter than a warship, but with twice as much ammunition relative to its size. The smaller dimensions gave the ship speed, and the delicately sweeping line of its hull cut through wind resistance. This ship was meant for the chase. A hunter.
And Wind Sabre was her prey.
Their position was bad. If Talis and her crew wanted to get away, pinched against the far reaches of breathable atmosphere and a barrier of garbage was no place to find themselves with a hunter ship on their Nexus-side. The Imperials were between them and just about anywhere they’d rather be.
Tisker was at the helm, though, Talis reminded herself. He’d negotiated them out of a career’s worth of tight spots. It wasn’t just his skill. Talis had skill enough on her own. It was his instinct with the ship that had sealed his place on her crew. His left hand danced across the levers on the control board while he deftly managed the wheel with his right. She saw him shift his body to starboard and felt Wind Sabre angle to catch the wind, their motions synchronized. The ship handled as though they shared a bond, as though it was an extension of him. Some Cutters had that. Understood the wind, natural as breathing.
So Talis was a spectator. In good conditions, the ship could be run by one person if it had to be. A crew of four had no slack, so she’d made the right upgrades to ensure that. With Sophie aloft to watch their clearance and Dug supervising the engine output, Talis would only
