Thomas listened to Dujo without interruption. The quartermaster did not know the details of the voyage that they were about to undertake, but he was shrewd enough to realize a threat when he heard one. The [i]Crimson Feather’s[/i] sudden departure had been no coincidence, and the involvement of the Governor’s house in the whole matter bode of more ill tidings. There was little Thomas could do now, however. He would not set out half-cocked, no matter the promised prize, and so he had little option but to stay the course. The men of the [i]Feather[/i] were as stupid as they were brash, though that notion in and of itself did little to settle Thomas’ mind. 

The voice of the helmsman from behind him held Thomas’ response to Dujo. He turned fractionally to Jax, and waved the quartermaster away. With a frown, Dujo nodded and disappeared down the steps to the decks below.

“A request?” Thomas said, his face devoid of the troubling ides of his previous conversation. 

He turned fully to both Jax and Nicolette, and an inquisitive smile came to his face. Thomas moved his eyes between the strange pair, and his brow raised.

“How can I be of service?”