Berlin hadn't really thought through his request much--it was his go-to for demonstration purposes because it was easy and generally inoffensive and didn't violate any real sense of free will or autonomy, something he was very careful about. But it didn't even occur to him that the man's other hand was holding a cup of tea, and that would make clapping his hands...difficult. He was used to his own hand being slapped (as he was generally holding the person's hand when he did this) but even he hadn't expected the slosh of hot tea. Curse it all, Berlin, you fool... Berlin flicked the hot liquid off his own hand with a surprised hiss and a thoroughly embarrassed, "Damn! Sorry, that...wasn't supposed to happen like that. Sorry. Erm, here..." he quickly refilled the man's cup. "Yes, ah, if you'd like we can step inside my quarters or if you'd prefer, we can simply speak at the bow. My crew will mind their own business." That was a command as much as it was a promise. He gave a special glare to Rohaan, who he knew was far too capable of sneaking up close to listen in if he had the mind (he usually did).

Rohaan didn't have to say anything back to him to challenge that order. He broke his gaze from Yawar just long enough to squint at Berlin, testing to see how serious he really was. Berlin meant it. He spoke at full volume, but was confident enough in the fact that no one besides them knew a lick of Vokurian (there was no record of it that he knew of, and to learn it, you had to know one personally) so he spoke freely in the quick language.
"Don't test me today, Rheoaan. Not now."
"I don't trust them."
"No. I don't expect you to. But you trust me. You know that if it's something you should know, I'll fill you in later. You know that. Besides, I need someone looking after the other guests. If you start a fight, so help me I'll gut you bow to stern, but I trust you'll finish one if it starts. Do I make myself clear, Rheoaan?"
This was agreeable to the lad, so he nodded once, and Berlin nodded once back at him before returning his attention back to Kaga-Met. Rohaan spared a glance towards Wheel and his apparent friend before returning his unwavering gaze back to Yawar.

"Sorry, the lad's suffered too much at the hands of strangers to give them any trust. He takes a little extra convincing but he'll behave himself," Berlin assured Kaga-Met. "Shall we, then?"

Uban glanced around from Berlin, to Yawar, to Wheel and Millie, wondering what he was supposed to do with himself. Stand by, probably. He knew enough Vokurian to at least take a guess at what Berlin had told Rohaan, so he figured at least some of his duty was to see that peace was being kept. But he could do that with some tea, couldn't he? The hot liquid would at least help keep him awake anyway. Taking his empty coffee mug in one hand, he put another nine-fingered one on Rohaan's chest as if to keep him from following and shuffled over to where the teapot was, giving Yawar a kind of nervously polite smile as he did so. His gait was too relaxed to be anything resembling threatening, or even purposeful. As he poured himself a cup of tea, he said to the strange mariner, "Uban. Nice to uh, nice to meet you." Probably. "So...where ya from? I've never seen a um.........s-ship like that."

Kaga-mets shock at Berlin's command was broken by his sheepish apology for the spilt tea. The contrast between the power this man held and his behavior was too much to handle at once. Laughter bubbled out of him, "It's quite alright," He said with a smile, "I'm used to worse than hot water, and so are you, I suspect." He let the captain refill his mug (though he avoided physical contact), and spoke in a more serious voice, "Let us speak at the bow, fair dealings are better done under the sun." And though most of his fear for these strange pirates was gone, it was prudent for him to remain close to the Swift and the rest of his crew. He raised an eyebrow at the exchange between Berlin and the shifter. He couldn't understand the flowing language, but he recognized the captains stern command and softer explanation and the surly youth. He had enough trouble dealing with his own children (Why had he left them for this?) and the thought of managing a rowdy boy able of turning into a dragon was enough to stir anxiety in him. The captains powers must be strong enough to keep him in line.

Once the two had reached the bow, he gave a quick survey of the rest of the ship before he began to speak. Millie was still speaking with the musketman-Wheel. The lightning sailor (Bourbon?) had sidled up to Yawar, and the two were engaging in what looked like small talk. The mage and the old man were sitting next to one another, speaking softly.

___

Yawar was surprised when the pirate started talking to him. Normally he was left alone, which suited him fine. He didn't like the attention the shifter boy was giving him, but at least it fell within the recognizable category of threat. This man- Uban- was trying to fall into the category of non-threat. He hastily drew back some flies to give him better detail of Uban. Somewhat taller than him, something wrong with his left hand? He couldn't tell. Realizing too late that he'd been silent since Uban had spoken, he abruptly said, "Hello, my name is Yawar." He hadn't had any water to drink recently, and his voice came out in a raspy croak. He made a show of looking back at the Swift, but it was more behind him than he had thought so he had to twist his neck back. Swiveling his head around, he tried to think of what he could say about the Swift. "Yes, it's the first of it's kind." A thought bloomed in the front of his mind and he said with the forced levelness of someone trying not to cough, "Theoretically, it could create a smaller one."

___

Hana looked at Pieter with a look of plain bewilderment. He didn't have much of an answer, so he packed and lit his pipe, let out a blue plume of smoke, and silently passed it to her. After she had puffed on it, he said, "Looks like Wheel has other friends." She laughed and ended up choking on the smoke coming out her nose, and replied once she calmed down, "Don't sound so hurt Pieter." He chuckled, and they continued to pass the pipe.

___

Yawar focused again on Berlin, and said, "I am a Barizian and agent of the Path of Justice, a movement dedicated to stopping the barbaric acts of the slavers you seek. They are supporters of the Path of Prosperity, a faction of profiteers who see no value in ajnaib, ehr, foreigners," The word meant barbarian, the two were interconnected but he saw no reason in antagonizing these people, "Other than uses for our magic." He gestured to the Swift, a note of pride filling his voice "Our dragon ship is the first of it's kind, an instrument made without any human sacrifices. We mean to defeat the slavers with a weapon that can prove the backwardness of their method." And though he lacked the unworldly charisma of this ajnaib, he spoke forcefully when he looked into Berlins eyes, "I ask for your assistance in stopping this shadow on the earth."

Rohaan watched after Uban (and more importantly, Yawar) for a bit longer before he grew tired of sitting still. He did not yet tire of glaring at Yawar, though he did contemplate sneaking up to the stern where Wheel and that lady were whispering to each other. Wheel was always tight lipped about his personal life, and Rohaan was always naturally curious. He liked to know more about people, though with Wheel in particular he learned some time ago that as long as he stayed out of his way, he wouldn't hurt him, so he got a bit of a pass. Still, he did want to know. But no. There was a tension there he wanted no part of, like some sense of self-preservation that made him realize bothering Wheel was an especially bad idea today, so he instead settled for shifting to a little black cat and padding over to hop on Hana's lap with a small meow. He did a little circle and then settled down with his legs tucked underneath his soft body.

As a cat, his hearing sharpened and he was a bit more tuned into the movement of small things, so it wasn't until then that he noticed there were flies on the ship. Not that there weren't normally, but usually one or two up on deck and not quite so many as he was noticing. He sniffed the air, his tiny black nose twitching with each intake of breath, but there wasn't a rotting food smell, or something else foul. Maybe it was that dragon abomination. His tail twitched at the thought of what they must have done to that once majestic dragon to make it what it now was, because whatever it was, Rohaan did not think it was entirely natural. This bothered him deeply, as dragons were close to his heart, so he put his disgust into the stare he was still giving Yawar.

--

Uban, who was sipping and enjoying the subtleties of mint tea, heard Yawar's answer and actually choked. He tried to reel it in the moment it happened, which resulted in a very surprised, very awkward cough and a small mouthful of tea spewed into his shirt sleeve. The look he gave Yawar was some mixture of apology, confusion, shock, and a little bit of horror. "Y-you mean like a...like a...baby? It can--she can--he? Uh..." He wasn't even sure he wanted the answer to his half-formed question, so he chewed the inside of his lip and just said, "Uh...wow."

--

As Kaga-Met spoke, Berlin's gray eyes widened and he suddenly gasped in a whisper, "Barizian!" His expression went from pleasant and maybe a little embarrassed to suddenly urgent, but he kept his voice very low. "Look, I'm a reasonable man and I recognize that you're a different sort than them," he waved a vague hand towards where the slavers had gone, "But whatever you do, do not mention that in earshot of the boy. That sort of thing can be explained easily enough to the rest of my crew but not to him. Just two years ago Barizian slavers sacked his village, killed his parents, and took him captive. He watched his childhood friends one by one become human sacrifices, knowing his time was coming. He escaped and I found him not long after. We recently came across a ruined fishing town that had been raided and he's out for blood. It's part of why we're here. Unless you feel up to battling a cyradan, I strongly suggest you keep that bit of information secret."

Berlin looked over his shoulder as if to make sure the shifter was not lurking close by (even though he'd told him to mid his business), and let out the breath he didn't realize he held clenched in his stomach until that was confirmed. Friendly meetings at sea were a rare thing and he didn't want to see this one go up in flames. Literally.

"I'm glad to hear you're also looking to deliver some justice to them, though. As pirates, we value freedom, of course, but slavery makes me especially angry. Partly because I've seen what damage it can do to someone," he said, sneaking a glance over at the black cat on Hana's lap, "but more importantly, in order for a man...like me to stay sane, he has to value the sanctity of free will. I do. Deeply. We were on our way to destroy every last one of them when we ran into you, and we'd be honored to have you fight at our side. But ah...what sort of weapon did you have in mind?" Berlin had a dab of curiosity, but he also wanted to know how best to organize himself and his crew and play to their strengths as a conjoined team, not two separate factions.

Wheel leaned back, looking sharply at Millie. She returned his gaze steadily. After the heist, the botched escape, Clavicles death, they never found each other. He hadn't looked hard, the child duke had an appetite for revenge like the old duke did, so he ran, hit the coast, mostly stopped thinking about Vyrm. And here she was. Only four years, and.

She had fucking tentacles.

And that wasn't the strangest thing that was going on.

The only consolation (besides the fact that his heart felt like bursting and it felt good and he had missed her so much and here she was) was that he had some stories of his own.

---
-oh great, he's going to choke to death and they'll think i poisoned him- Yawar froze, unsure if it would look more suspicious if he tried to help or if he didn't move as Uban coughed. Before he could make up his mind, Uban straightened up, -oh never mind- and asked, "Y-you mean like a...like a...baby?"
-wouldnt that be something- He chuckled weakly, as if Uban had made a joke, "Not quite, more like, hrm." of course he doesn't know of the gifts "It can, give birth to parts, and can be assembled by us. Like if a woman gave birth to a torso and limbs, and sewed it up together." -shit thatll scare him for sure- "It's not truly alive of course. A doll, or a wagon, made of flesh and bone. Not human, of course." He hurriedly added. The boy was a cat, and the cat was searching for something. He drew back the closest flies, the smoke from the two sailors were making them sleepy anyway.
Looking to generate camaraderie with the man who didn't seem to be threatening him -unlike the shifter boy-, he asked, "You've a fine ship. It must take quite a few hands to keep her in line."

---
Kaga-met's eyes narrowed at Berlin's reaction to his country, and a scowl flashed across his face at learning the reason why. He looked for the boy, and didn't see him. He must have gone below decks. Looking back to the Captain, he was once again struck by the question of trust. He took a sip of tea to purchase some time to think. Berlin had given him fair warning, and the boys grudge was justified, if somewhat misplaced. Yawar knew not to overplay his hand, though their homeland hadn't been one of the issues they'd considered. He hadn't considered there might be some ill-will towards Bariz among the foreigners. Shifters, however...

"What weapon?" His voice carried some of the slight bruising Berlin had just done to his ego, "Is a dragon ship not enough of a weapon?"
He cleared his throat, "My crew is few, but we're well trained and we've already sunk one of their galleys. Millie is quite the threat, she can swing from the Swift onto the enemy deck and grapple back as quickly. I'm a fine shot, and Yawar is much more than meets the eye. If we work together, I'm sure we will put an end to the devils."

"Parts...?" The sound that came out of Uban could almost be called a squeak, and from a long haired, scruffy pirate missing a finger, it seemed out of place. The more Yawar talked, the more Uban's eyes widened in a steadily growing horror as he first envisioned a human woman pushing out a disembodied leg that then got collected and put in a basket like a bushel of wheat, and then pictured the pale, sickly dragon suddenly producing more and more of those hands in an endless stream. He actually went pale a little. He'd been in need of more sleep, but he wasn't so sure he wanted that anymore. Needless to say, he was glad of the change in subject, and hopped onto that train of thought like it'd save his life.

"Ah, yeah, we've got erm...six." In that moment, too distracted by birthing parts he didn't consider six to be a small number for a ship, even for a caravel. And he'd become so used to it that he didn't think it so odd. He gestured around him. "This is literally all of us. But you probably heard the captain say we're not exactly normal blokes. The boy is worth at least three topmen since he can move between rigging so fast, and it's not like he can really fall, you know?"

He looked back at the black cat to find his blue eyes still fixed on Yawar. "He's not really looking to kill you, you know. It's your glasses he's after. He's never seen them before and I'm sure you know with shifters, the eyes are what give them away. He's looking for a chance to take them. If he were a little less...uh, feral, he might have come and ask you where you got them. But he's not good with strangers and he's a far better thief than a conversationalist so...don't put those down anywhere. You'll lose 'em that way."

Uban felt the need to continue conversation as best he could, mostly for his own nerves, so he said, "Hana and I were just working on some real specific grenadoes that I can light up with my uh, my lightning. I'm still kinda learning what I can do with it, but we're working with runes and I guess I can arc to stuff with runes on them?" He took one of the scribed bullets Hana had made for their small-scale experiment out of his pocket and tossed it a couple feet in the air. When he did, a line of bluish purple electricity streaked after it like a comet's tail. He didn't put much power into it--he didn't have much energy to spare--but his eyelids looked just a little bit heavier, and his irises just a little more of a golden green shade than they had been. "Cool huh?"

--

Berlin sensed Kaga-Met's irritation or disappointment or something in that slight shift of expression, so he clarified, "The rest of my crew would understand completely. But he can be...difficult sometimes, though I wonder how we all would have fared if we'd had the same cards dealt to us. I will probably talk to the lad about it myself--it's an important lesson for him to learn--but that information should come from me first, and I wouldn't expect him to be friendly to you in the meantime regardless."

Berlin gave a casual, humble shrug and a bit of a laugh. "Truth be told, Kaga-Met, I've never seen a ship like yours. I don't know what it's capable of. I barely know anything about dragons beyond what the lad has taught me, except that not all of them breathe fire, and not all in the same way. But I'm assuming, then, your attack will be primarily aerial?" He frowned lightly. "In that case, you might be working more closely with the lad. His name's Rio, and you've already seen his favorite form. My loose plan was to have him get me onto a ship from underneath at first. I was going to use my ability to reap chaos and quietly sabotage one of their ships, and...convince its members to ram into other ships, probably the largest one. Might possibly try for a second ship if our cover isn't blown, but at that point I was going to start engaging in earnest with what firepower we have, sending in my berserker for some up-close damage, and letting Rio rain down fire and fangs from above. My gunner and mage will stay behind on the ship, but Uban is flexible. I'm thinking I'll keep him back at first though and work with Hana and Pieter..." He was partly talking to himself at this point, but eye contact with Kaga-Met told him he wasn't completely forgotten.

Millie took Wheel's cool hand in her own and squeezed it, "It's good to see you. We've been apart for so long. And you seem to have made some interesting friends."
Wheel started to protest, "They're not-" and stopped, "Yeah. They've been kind to me. Berlin, the captain, especially. This curse, it's made things so, I've been able to stay here." He looked at Uban talking to the man in glasses, "So, who's this crowd? They're treating you okay?"

---

Yawar's flies fidgeted, buzzing at a safe distance in a semicircle where the shifter lay in the old mans lap to keep him centered in his vision. With the knowledge that there weren’t any other shifters laying in wait for them, Yawar peeled a fly away to inform Kaga-met. Uban's attempt at reassurance only made him tense, and his vision fractured as the flies scattered from the dangerous cat. Coughing nervously, he said, "I have uh. Medical condition, I can't take them off when there's light," lightly touching the frames, he said softly, "They were a gift from my lover. When I wear them it's a reminder of what waits for me back home." -Misk, wait for me.-
He had re centered his focus on Uban, landing a fly on the railing behind Uban and another on Yawar's shoulder. The sailor had a rough, easy charm to him, -The captain, Millie's friend, Uban, they're sailing a pleasure barge here.-
Yawar’s thoughts had strayed from the conversation, and Uban had kept talking, something about the woman pirate and grenadoes, when he brandished a pair of small objects in front of him. Yawar leaned closer to act like he was studying them, and when Uban tossed them into the air accompanied by a crack of lightning, the flies closest to the lightning were blinded and he stumbled back. Understanding of what Uban had been saying came crashing down on him, and he exclaimed, “Incredible! You’re able to harness your lightning to weapons, and, runes? In my years of study and travel I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve heard the mages of the east are able to control the elements, but they use tools and implements,” His curiosity piqued, he resembled his flies to study the bald headed woman more closely, though still avoiding the dangerous cat, “You said Hana made these runes? How interesting.”

---
Kaga-Met chewed his lower lip, “Yes, I understand. I’ll instruct my crew to avoid sharing personal details, though it looks like they’re talking with one another already.” He looked wryly at Yawar, who from the looks of it was stiffly making conversation with Uban. Millies conversation with Wheel, however, concerned him.
“Berlin, if I make speak frankly, who is this Wheel? I trust Millie in a fight, but she can be rather, ah, hotheaded, and she doesn’t speak much of her past to us. I know she came from the northern city of Vyrm, but that’s all.”
At this point, a fly landed on his hand, and walked in a clockwise circle before taking off again. All clear. Kaga-met had been weighing his decision since stepping aboard, and it was time to make a choice. The Swift wasn’t capable of defeating the slavers by itself, and while there were mysteries and dangers with this pirate crew, their intentions were clear and they were open to cooperation. It’d be harder to find better allies. Trusting them meant losing any advantage they still held, but it was necessary.
“Captain, I’m keen on talking strategy with you, but there’s another thing you should know,”
He called out to his chiurgeon, “Yawar! Show them what you can do!”

---
Yawar was startled to hear the command so shortly after he’d told his captain, but then, it wasn’t his place to call the shots. He just hoped it wouldn’t scare Uban to death.
---
All across the ship, the flies that had been watching and hiding lifted into the air, buzzing and swarming above Yawars head, forming a dark cloud over him. The cloud broke into two as the flies then flew below his chin and up behind his glasses.
Once it was done, he smiled weakly at Uban.

---
Kaga-met said, “Yawar is our chiurgeon, a trained doctor. He has undergone a treatment, and now sees out of the eyes of the flies that he controls. He can see anything they do, and can serve excellently in gathering information. Berlin, we can discuss specifics later, but let me say this. If we succeed I will see to it that you are rewarded, and not just in the pleasure of defeating evil and replacing it with good.”
He outstretched his hand, “Shall we address our team?”

Uban grinned impishly, and even went so far as to gently and playfully slap Yawar's arm with the back of his hand. "Oh, you got a lady love, eh? Good for you, mate. I had a lady back home, but..." Uban cringed, "There was this other guy who I had to compete with, you know. And I kinda accidentally killed him in a bar fight. Pretty much ruined my chances there." He shrugged, awfully casually for having just mentioned committing murder, however accidental it might have been. For a moment, Uban considered the benefits of a lens that would shade his eyes from the reflection of the sun off the water. It would be nice not to have to squint so much...maybe he'd figure out where to get some for himself and for Rohaan.

The man smiled, pocketing the scribed balls. "I've heard of mages out there sort of...redirecting lightning, but not one of them can create it like I do," he boasted, practically beaming. "I'll tell you what though, it takes a hell of a lot of energy to do it. We go through a whole lotta food on this ship between me, the kid, and Wheel, not to mention everyone else. In fact, just before you guys boarded, I'd been experimenting with what I'm really capable of doing, and I'll be honest with you, I'm barely on my feet right now. I'd probably chop off a man's finger just to get another cup of coffee, but how Rohaan got his hands on the first one I had, I'll never know."

Uban nodded in Hana's direction. "Oh yeah, she's real smart. Smarter than me, I tell ya! She knows all about things like runes and that sort of thing, and how they relate to magic. I came by mine just sort of on accident, naturally, you know. So I don't know anything about..." he gestured inarticulately. "There was a word for it. Erm, Candips, or some such." He shook his head. "I don't know, you'd have to ask her."

--

Berlin glanced over at the two men conversing and chuckled lightly. "That would be best. But I wouldn't worry about that one. He's pretty harmless." He said this right as Uban sent a lead ball and an arc of electricity sparking into the air, which, considering what he'd just said, made him smile a little self consciously. "What I mean is, Uban could probably make friends with a rabid dog. It's the kid you've got to watch out for. Wheel is a bit hotheaded maybe, and a little unfriendly at times, but the boy's far more devious."

Speaking of Wheel, Kaga-Met seemed to be fairly interested in the berserker. Berlin supposed that if he allowed himself the space to think about it instead of worrying about diplomacy, he'd be fairly interested in who this Millie woman was, too. Berlin scratched his chin, and absently thought it might be time for a shave. "Wheel mentioned at one point he came from Vyrm, though he didn't say too much about it..." Berlin studied Kaga-met, wondering just how much he should reveal. He figured the explanation did have some tactical relevance, so he said, "He's had a lot of training as a fighter, I know that much. But more importantly, he's a Berserker. We never discussed in great detail how he got it--some brief words here and there, but nothing entirely illustrative--but he's got a curse on him. I don't know how much you know of these things, but it grants him unparalleled strength, speed, and battle prowess in general. I've seen bullets bounce off him. A side effect is that he often experiences intense bloodlust. I'm better equipped to handle that sort of thing than most, but every so often I'll turn him loose on my enemies and..." Berlin shrugged. "We've found a good rhythm. But like your Millie, he's tight-lipped about his past. I only press when it's relative to the health and cohesiveness of my crew."

As Kaga-met signaled to Yawar, Berlin watched in a shifting visage of curiosity, confusion, outright shock, and thoughtfulness. He had an an initial jolt of surprise and...perhaps something like aversion before he began sifting through the implications of what he'd just seen. Uban took a step back, mouth hanging open but sort of loosely working as if he tried to say something but his jaw was broken. Finally he uttered in a breathless whisper, "Medical condition my ass..." There was a nervous smile on the sailor's face, partly to break the tension between them and partly to diffuse his own nerves.

Rohaan's sable fur stood on end as he hissed, and his little ivory claws emerged from the soft tips of his paws to prick Pieter's legs. He hadn't meant to, and as soon as he realized what he was doing, he extricated his claws from the fabric of Pieter's pants. The cat rubbed his small head against Pieter's chest in apology, but his ears were flat and his tail twitched.

Berlin wondered out loud, "Tevira's tits...what must that be like...?" Rohaan had told him something of the unique eyes of small insects, and from what Berlin knew, he guessed that seeing through that many lenses at once had to be nothing short of disorienting.

Berlin was relieved to hear that Kaga-met was willing to not only cooperate, but it seemed there'd be something in it for all of them beyond the mere satisfaction of retribution. The captain grinned and shook Kaga-met's hand, and this time there was none of his odd, subtle magic in the contact. "Pleased to have you, Kaga-met." Berlin looked out towards his crew and whistled, indicating that they should join him and Kaga-Met. Rohaan moved to Pieter's shoulder, opting to both stay close to someone he trusted and also to stay in animal form. He'd learned that if he was in an animal shape, people were less likely to try and speak to him or otherwise engage with him. When it came to strangers, he preferred it that way.

"Captain Kaga-met and I have decided to join forces for the time being. It should go without saying, but he and his crew should be treated with respect and cooperation while we destroy our common enemy." He gave particular attention to Rohaan as he said this, though he knew he'd need to have another, private conversation with him as soon as he got the chance. "Am I clear?"

Yawar smiled and didnt’ flinch too much at Uban’s playful slap, “Aha, my Misk is certainly lovely, but he’s not a lady,” A thought of Misk in skirts and a maiden’s veil played across his mind but he focused on the conversation, stilling at Uban’s story, “I’m sorry to hear that. It must be hard to be separated like that from one you love. The fates are cruel, but ultimately we are led to where we must.” Trying a roguish tone, he continued, “Besides, I envy a free man in the ports around here!”

A fly did a lazy loop above Hana’s head, trying to get a better understanding of the mage. If she were Elbish, her magic would be frightening indeed. “Cantrips, I believe,” Yawar said drily, “Yes, I fancy myself a scholar, and I imagine I’d enjoy a future conversation with Hana.”

——

Kara-met nodded rapidly, several pieces of the puzzle dropping into place. Tugging at his mustache he confided in Berlin, “Yes, Millie is a berserker too. Those tentacles of hers were attached by some of our chiurgeons, and the curse is what, ah, fuels them. The tentacles are, how do I say, hostile? To her body, and the curse must exert itself to maintain itself. Her mood swings are greatly controlled, and the normal hazards of keeping a berserkers company have been mitigated.” His tone was coolly professional with an undercurrent of pride, a commander taking pleasure in his finely dressed soldiers, a trainer contented with his trained and obedient hound.

He looked at Berlins hands and said wryly, “Of course, your method has much to say for it,” with a small smile which grew wider at Yawars demonstration.

——

Yawar looked around him, seeing through hundreds of different eyes at once. Trying to look through a single flies eyes was disorienting and unsatisfying, seeing through a swarm was revelatory. Kaga-met’s relaxed and easy stance next to the tense captain, Millie sitting while her friend stood, watching. Hana and the old man still sat, with the shifter-cat bristling at his display. Uban had backed away, and his shoulders slumped as his mouth opened in awe. They straightened when he spoke, trying to break his nervousness with humor. Yawar returned the smile, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the flies, “Well, I certainly don’t want anything getting in my eyes, but yes, the glasses are mostly a consideration for others. Rather stylish too, don’t you think?”

When Berlin and Kaga-met walked down to stand before the crew, Yawars flies retreated to a less distracting presence and the other crewmembers, pirate and Barizian alike gathered round.

——
Hana had nearly shrieked when she saw the swarm of flies come out of the mans head. She’d never heard of anything like this before. Another reminder that the world was much bigger and stranger than Elbar. Still, if Berlin was ready to trust them to fight the slavers, she would have to put the same faith in them her captain did. On all the virtues at once, though, she’d be willing to bet that these people would be able to scare the Barizians to death before they actually did anything. Millie and Wheel had spoken once more to each other than split up, Wheel stood next to Hana while Millie rejoined Yawar.
“Everything okay?” Hana asked Wheel in a neutral voice, “Never been better,” he deadpanned. Hana bit her lip in frustration at Wheel, but chose not to press it. She could find out later. Besides, she figured, at least he hadn’t hurt anyone.

After Berlin had spoken, Kaga-met took a half step forward, “I understand that this is strange for all of us, but I believe our common goal, the destruction of the monsters who make their living hunting innocents, is enough to set aside any concerns or past histories,” he locked his eyes on Millie, who held his gaze for a moment before looking down at her feet. Evidently satisfied, he continued more confidently, “and together we’ll prove no match for the fiends.”

He looked at Berlin and spoke to both him and the assembled crew, “Our Swift caught some fine tuna this morning, perhaps we should celebrate with a lunch?”

Uban's eyebrows twitched up just a little at learning Misk was a man. Mostly, he was just embarrassed he'd mistaken the name of a man in another culture to be a woman's, and he could feel some of his own ignorance when it came to the ways of peoples from all over Carisia. Uban tried to remember if Yawar ever mentioned where exactly he and his crew were from. But only a little of this showed on his face, and he quickly smiled and said, "Aha, I see! Sorry for the mistake. I've got admit, it's veryfun being a free man in a port!" he chuckled. "So many options..." Uban shrugged a little with one shoulder. "I dunno, I do miss Delorah, but honestly, she's not the adventuring sort, and I've become one. Not to mention I'm the second son of a drunk, piss-poor farmer so it's not like I had much to offer her anyway." Another shrug. He thought of her fondly now and again, but he'd accepted his path strayed from hers long ago.

--

Berlin nodded, the wheels turning inside his head as he listened. Two berserkers? Now he really did wonder where they'd come from, because evidently they'd come from the same place. Maybe they got the curse at the same time and for the same reason. He'd ask Wheel about it sometime, he thought. Berlin smiled, inspecting one of his large, calloused hands. "It does have its advantages, that's for sure. These hands have narrowly avoided disaster many times," he chuckled. He didn't mention the weight of responsibility he felt, holding a power like that. He could slip into the innermost chambers of a person's mind in an instant, and though he could not read thoughts, he could command someone to tell him their darkest secrets, their deep fears, and their greatest hopes. To override a man's autonomy was...a sobering experience. One Berlin did not take lightly. The question of genuine trust from those he cared about always plagued him, and it had since he was a boy.

--

Both captains addressed their combined crews, and Kaga-Met offered to share lunch. Berlin smiled. "We'd be honored to break bread with you." He adopted a mischievous air and said, "I might possibly have a cask or two of wine I've had stashed away for a special occasion...I see no reason this couldn't be considered one. Pieter," he said, raising the volume of his voice a little so it would carry. "Bring out the good wine, would you? And every last cup we've got." He then said in a softer tone to Kaga-Met, "If you'll excuse me, I've got to have a...difficult conversation with a very moody shapeshifter."

Berlin did not need to speak to the shifter-cat to summon him to his shoulder; he merely looked at him, nodded his head towards the door of the captain's quarters, and the black cat leapt nimbly from Pieter to Berlin. Behind the closed door, Berlin said, "Alright, take a seat, lad. There's something you and I need to discuss." Somewhat hesitantly, Rohaan jumped from the man's shoulder to the bed, and shifted to his natural form. He said nothing, but those blue eyes of his tracked Berlin intensely. How was he supposed to begin?

"Lad, I know humans have historically not been kind to you. They have hurt you, and robbed you of your home and your family."
Rohaan looked away. "This is my home now," he muttered. There was an unspoken, 'and you are my family' that neither of them needed to hear in words to know to be true.
Berlin smiled. "Yes. It is. You have every reason to hate humans. But do you?"
The boy glowered, thinking of the invaders standing on the deck that had come to his ship, his home. "Kind of."
Berlin's eyebrow raised. "All of them?" he challenged.
Rohaan softened a little. "Well...no."
"I thought not. Hana's not so bad, is she?"
Rohaan shrugged coyly, looking at the floor. "Yeah, I guess she's alright." That, coming from him in a moment where he'd been pressed for a direct answer, was a lot.
Berlin nodded. "And why don't you hate all of them? What makes those few different than the rest?"
"They..." Rohaan thought, screwing up his little face as he considered. "They don't want to hurt me. They don't want me dead. They're...actually nice."
"Aye. Just because someone belongs to a group of people that has wronged you, doesn't mean that individual will. Because people are all different, and they make their own paths in life. Some people choose to be fearful and hateful. Some don't."

Berlin took many breaths before he figured out how to continue. "I'm going to tell you something, Rheoaan. But you have to promise me you won't do anything rash. It might upset you. Do you promise?"
Nervous, Rohaan answered, "Aye."
"If you need to stay in here until you're ready to join us, that's fine. Take all the time you need. I'll make sure you get lunch. But I don't want you going out there until you're calm. Okay?"
"...Okay..."
Berlin sighed. There was nothing for it, he just had to say it. "Captain Kaga-Met and his crew are from Bariz, Rheoaan. They're Barizian." When Rohaan's blue eyes went wide in horror, Berlin was quick to add, "But you just heard him--they are angry at the slavers too and want them dead. They are not slavers and do not condone slavery. They were not the ones who stole you." He could see the shifter's breath quickening as a wild, primal fear gripped him. "In Bariz, there are two...groups. One who uses slaves and bloodshed to accomplish dark magic. The other abhors it. Kaga-Met is the latter. He and his crew are not here to hurt you, Rheoaan. I need you cooperate with them and be civil. You don't have to like them, but they're going to be your battlemates, so you have to learn to work with them. I need you to trust--"

Berlin watched as Rohaan's visage turned on a dime from fear to a boiling, explosive anger. "You traitor!" he howled. He had tears in his eyes. "You traitor, how could you?" Rohaan sprang to his feet, but without any real direction, so he paced like a caged animal and uttered a primal howl, his body shaking with rage. It looked like he was barely restraining himself from burning down the whole world, and the effort left him feeling like he was going to burst.

Berlin reached a hand out for the boy's shoulder. "Rheoaan..."
"Don't touch me!" Rohaan shrieked, slapping Berlin's hand away with a crack.
Berlin recoiled, knowing all too well that a simple slap was the least of what he could have done to him in that situation. Still, the boy's words stung him more than the strike, and more than Rohaan would ever know. The implication in his outraged words were clear. Don't manipulate me. He'd sworn to refrain from doing that as much as possible with his crew, but Rohaan in particular. There had been very few times when Berlin had to restrain him for some reason or another, but he wouldn't dare try to alter his thoughts or feelings about a situation. He thought Rohaan knew that. The fact it had ever come into question tore at Berlin's core.

The man looked down at the boy as he seethed, his white shirt balled in his small fists as he practically squirmed with undirected rage and anger and fear. It was a terrible thing to watch. And for a moment, he saw the dirty, battered, malnourished feral wretch he'd taken in two years ago. The one that had pressed himself into a corner like a wounded spider and had bitten anyone who got too close. The one that had howled and screamed and kicked and bit and clawed when Berlin had tried to treat his injuries. And the one who had wept softly in the dark after he thought Berlin was fast asleep. Berlin sighed. He'd done this before, he could do it again.

"Rheoaan..." he kept his distance this time. "You trust me, don't you? They are not. Here. To hurt you. I promise. I swear to you by the moon and the stars that they want what you want. Vengeance. You'll have it, Rheoaan. I promise." He got no reply, so Berlin straightened. This all felt very familiar indeed. "Alright. I'll leave you be. Just think about what I said about people choosing their own paths, Rheoaan." With that, Berlin exited and shut the door behind him. As the latch clicked into place, he took a moment to allow his troubled exasperation to surface. The man smoothed back the stray strands of his blonde hair that had escaped his ponytail as he leaned heavy against the door, then with a sigh, he gathered his composure and rejoined the group with his back straight and his head held high. Anyone who knew him, though, would see the stormy look in his gray eyes that betrayed his smile.

Yawar's estimation of Uban went up with his quick apology for the misunderstanding. Not everyone he'd met on his travels had been as accepting of supposed differences, and he was more comfortable working with these pirates knowing he wouldn't have to deal with snide comments and suppressed hostility. It was at this point that the two captains spoke, and the alliance was sealed. After the speech there was a mild confusion as people milled about, leaving to attend to their tasks or striking up conversations. Millie strode across the deck and unfurled one tentacle to prop against the wooden deck, lifted herself from the ship to the Swift, another tentacle reaching out and grasping a boney spur. Pulling herself down onto the dragon, who lazily paddled it's arms to keep steady with the ship. She disappeared from view as she went to retrieve the fish.

Yawar gave Uban a smile and went to join his captain, he wanted to sort things out before going ahead.

---

Kaga-met bid Berlin farewell with a dip of his head, and looked up to see Yawar approach, "All things are well?" He asked the chiurgeon softly, "No problems, the sailor, Uban, has been friendly, though the shifter has been watching me intently. It might have been for my glasses." Kaga-met replied, "Good. The shifter has a grudge against Barizians, he'd had a run in with slavers. Berlin left to work on it, and knowing what he can do I have confidence in his abilities. Millie's friend, Wheel, is also a berserker. The Path of Prosperity bastards won't know what hit them." They'd been huddled together for too long, it would be important to get to know the rest of these new allies, "Alright, let's make new friends, we'll all talk this evening." He clapped a hand on Yawar's shoulder. Taking the cue, Yawar moved away, approaching Hana and saying, "Your friends say that you're a weather mage?"

---
Pieter left the group to go below decks and get the wine. Walking down the stairwell he could hear the muffled voices of Rohaan and Berlin. The two wine barrels were stacked next to an emergency crate of hardtack, and when he lifted the stout oak barrel it sloshed promisingly. He carried the first barrel to the foot of the stairs and went back for the second. Rohaan shouted, "Traitor!" and Pieter stopped for a moment, listening. The boy had trouble trusting strangers, but this was a rather strong reaction to the Swift riders he thought. Hunting the Barizians had been unearthing a lot of bad memories, especially for a child who had just started to come out the other side of the terrors the slavers inflicted upon him. Nothing he could do about it this moment, Berlin was with him and he'd have to trust that would be enough. He'd help get dinner ready, so even if Rohaan was still hurt and scared, at least he'd be able to have something nice to eat.

Going to the galley, he opened the copper bellied stove, gently stoked it with a few puffs of the bellow, and added a few sticks to the fire from the woven basket that sat next to the clay bricks that the stove rested on to keep the wood beneath it from getting too hot. It was a good thing he liked fish, since they ate it almost daily.
Looping back, he carried the wine to the top, calling out, "Alright, finish whatevers left in your mugs so we can put something good in them." Whatever Rohaan was going through, it'd pass.

---

Wheel stood to the side, silent with a small smile resting on his face.

Rohaan's vision seemed to blur with rage as he paced Berlin's quarters. Or was that tears...? He wiped his eyes and pushed over a wooden chair with a violent shove and a primal howl that did not sound wholly human. If a beast could cry with the voice of a human and yet in the language of its animal soul, it might sound something like what came from his lips. He was just so ANGRY. Berlin knew. He knew what happened to him and who'd done it, and there Berlin had just struck a deal with them. THEM. The ocean was silver that day his whole life was destroyed, stained by the blood of his elders and those he had loved and who had loved him. But Berlin loved him, didn't he? It's not like either of them had said it out loud but...well, he did. He would not have allowed the use of Rheoaan otherwise. It had been offered to him because Rohaan loved him like a father. And he knew by now that Berlin loved him like a son.

But then why would he do this? THIS. This of all things!? If this ship was not his home he would burn it down. Burn. Burn. BURN. He should have lit the whole world on fire that day. He should have lit the ship that bore him away into raging flames. It would have killed most of the other kids, but it would have been a mercy compared to what he knew they all suffered in the end. He should have torched the port shopkeeper who beat him when he was starving, the one who broke his rib that never set right. If he had the strength to shift then, he might have. He should have burned the whole port down. If only he could have.

But then...he never would have failed in picking Pieter's pocket, and Berlin would never have found him. AND BERLIN WOULD NEVER HAVE BETRAYED HIM LIKE THIS HOW DARE HE HOW COULD HE. He clawed at the linens on the bed and flung them to the ground with all the force his wiry arms could muster. It was so hard not to really wreck everything. He wanted to unleash the part of him that was cyradan, to smash the windows and claw at the walls and bite through the floorboards and let it BURN but this was his home, this was Berlin's, he couldn't just...destroy it. So he resorted to throwing linens.

Rohaan closed his eyes, arms wrapped around his middle like it ached him. And like a sudden fog he was surrounded by his mother's cool and desperate touch and the heat of flaming palm trees and grass huts, the crack of rifles and the fading cries of his elders--some human, some animal. A gripping panic, a disorienting throbbing pain in his head, the smell of blood and shit and the dark laughter of men mingling in a discordant melody with the low, fearful sobs of children he played in the waves with. Kaga-met holding a lantern in one hand and a barely conscious girl in the other. No...not Kaga-met...he wasn't there, it didn't happen like that...did it? No, no, it didn't. That was a woman who did that. But in his mind's eye was Kaga-met all the same. The woman hoists the limp girl up by one wrist. Kaga-met drags the girl across the ocean-damp floor. The woman ascends the stairs as the girl's heels catch and drag on each step. Bump. Bump. The girl's name is Kheyala Khali Kei Rai'asha. She used to pick on Rohaan all the time. Kaga-met finishes his ascent up the steps, passes through the door, and takes Khali with him.

NO!

It was supposed to come out as a word, but instead his body morphed and he became a cyradan and roared.

----

The ship lurched suddenly starboard like a great weight had been dropped onto the deck as the dragon roar pierced through the wooden walls of Berlin's cabin. Berlin and Uban both spilled their wine a little, but the practiced seamen found their balance quickly. Berlin stood with his feet spread wide for stability as the ship bobbed and rocked, still listing a little to one side even as it steadied. He had one hand upraised but was otherwise perfectly still. He did not look particularly surprised, though his gaze was intent on his cabin. "As long as that door doesn't open, I'm gonna let him be. He's got to work this out." And, knowingly, he warned, "Brace yourselves. There's going to be less weight on this ship in a moment, I know it." Sure enough, a moment later, the ship bobbed up, rocking suddenly to the port side and then freely swinging into an equilibrium after that. The door did not open. Berlin breathed a sigh of relief. He could contain the shifter if he had to, but Rohaan needed to figure this out on his own. The cabin quieted altogether after that, and the captain relaxed. Aboard this ship, such things were not strange.

Berlin eyed Kaga-Met ruefully. "Really sorry about that. I'm...a little embarrassed I couldn't host you in better circumstances but..." he sighed. "Wild things will always remain somewhat wild. You understand now, I think, what this pursuit means to us." He offered a small smile. "But please, have more wine! There's plenty. Ah, you know--" He turned to Uban. "Uban lad, fetch your lute, why don't you?"
Uban beamed. "Aye sir, I think I will!" He disappeared below deck and came back with a very well-used lute, which he briefly tuned before gently plucking a quiet, ambient tune. He looked at Millie, and tried to glean what he could about her from one glance. He wasn't really sure what to make of her, except that she seemed stoic enough to be one of Wheel's friends, so at least that checked out. "Got any requests?" he asked her. Uban could have a social life in a graveyard.

Berlin made his way over to Wheel, sipping his cup of wine. "Old friend of yours, I see?" he said in a private volume. "Who is she?" He was as much curious for his understanding of Wheel as he was for his understanding of these new allies. "She as much of a juggernaut in a fight as you?"

The other pirates and dragon riders recovered their balance faster than Hana, and she stumbled when Rio roared below decks. When she'd first lost her balance,her leg shot out, heel hitting the wood deck hard and jarring her but keeping her upright all the same. Pinwheeling her free arm to keep steady, it worked almost like a pump as the hand that held the mug of wine, jerking up unconsciously as if by raising it above her it'd be safe from the treacherous shifting of the deck. She exhaled in relief now that she'd stabilized, and started to think, Well that was a close one! When the weight of the ship righted itself again and her newly found balance was thrown off completely. Her outstretched leg buckled, and the rest went with it. As she went down, the wine sloshed out directly onto Hana's face. She lay on the ground, spluttering wine and hoping nobody had seen her. A shadow crossed over Hana's face, and she heard a woman call out, "Yeah, y'know The Shifty Goat an' The Goose Girl?"

"Need help up?" Millie asked as she loomed over her, fish in tentacle. Hana closed her eyes and groaned. So much for impressing the new people.

---

Kaga-Met and Yawar stood together, and after offering polite noises in response to Berlin playing the role of temporarily embarrassed host, held a quiet conference with one another, Kaga-Met briefing Yawar on what he and Berlin had discussed, while Yawar asked questions and supplied information about what he'd seen of the pirates so far. The two had worked together for a long time and had the close professional rapport that let them strategize together and come out of any situation ahead. They were relieved to have the firepower of these strange pirates, but as Kaga-Met told Yawar about the shifters past, the flies looping around Yawar's head lost their orderliness. Still, these potential allies had fallen into their laps and they'd turn the tide in their favor, if only they could make it work.

---
Wheel looked coolly into Berlin's eyes for a long moment. Some would have taken it as a threat, but he knew Berlin wouldn't be phased. He broke eye contact and drank from his wine, looking up at the white sails before he spoke. The curse had gone silent, it was like it wasn't there at all. When he spoke, his voice was flat, calm, "We were kids together. Grew up together, trained together, dealt with the same shit. After uh," He fumbled for words, "After a while I left Vyrm for some work. Stayed on the coast, fell in with you, you know the rest. Hadn't seen her or the rest of them in years. When I knew her? She was a mean bitch in a fight. Bookies loved whenever she went in the ring with a man twice her size. After she got the curse with the rest of us, well. Now? No fucking clue. She's still cursed, and those tentacles sure aren't for show." He drained the mug, looked at Berlin, asked, "Want me to top you up?" And went to get more wine.

Berlin was silent as Wheel explained Millie. He wondered how close they'd been, but only privately. That was the sort of question he might ask Uban, who would answer openly and honestly without fail. Damn fool was the most honest cutthroat he'd ever met, he thought as he looked at the younger man, who'd answered their guest with, "Damn right I do!" before he began to play a jaunty tune. But he doubted that was a question Wheel would be keen to answer, and as it wasn't crucial, Berlin did not press.

"Aye, that's good wine. I'll take all I can stomach." It was indeed good wine, and Berlin was going to see to it he got his share before it all ran out. He briefly considered giving Rohaan a little--just a little. It might settle him, he thought, though he couldn't imagine the boy calming down enough to hold anything in his hands he didn't intend to throw. Perhaps it was best he didn't.

Uban couldn't help but laugh a little at Hana, though with Uban, it was impossible to imagine that his laugh was in any way mocking. It was too genuine. He even tried to conceal it, but in the end he failed at that and allowed himself to openly and uncontrollably laugh as he plucked gently on the strings of his lute. His laugh cut short as an off note sounded, and with his usual mutter of, "Damn..." he looked down at his left, nine-fingered hand as though it had betrayed him. He smiled back up at Hana.
"You ought to get you another pour! Nothing gets you sea-legs better than good ol' booze." There was some kernel of truth to that, however tiny. At the very least, if one was relaxed, it would be easier to move with the undulations of the ship, or at least that's how Uban reasoned it. Though he wasn't sure there was much to prepare a person for a sudden til like that one except for hard-won instinct. Uban had been a tumbling, seasick mess his first week or so aboard the Borealis. It was longer before he really had the hang of it.
To Kaga-Met, and still while plucking the requested tune, he asked, "You're ah, Kaga-Met, right? Did I say that right? What's home like, mate? Er...where is home...?"
It was Berlin who answered. Normally he would have let Kaga-Met answer that, but this was an odd subject and he preferred to deal with it himself. More importantly, he wanted to be sure it wasn't said too loudly. Hearing the name again would likely only fuel Rohaan's rage. He spoke softly and pointedly, "They're from Bariz, Uban."
At first, Uban nodded once and made a simple noise of acknowledgment as though he'd never heard of the place, and then his eyes widened a little as they flicked towards the door to Berlin's cabin. "OH." He cringed a little, but not at their guests. "Oh..." he said with a note of understanding. Uban seemed to gather without being expressly told that there was some fundamental difference between this lot and the Barizians they were tracking. He doubted Berlin would let them on the ship otherwise. He looked back to Kaga-Met. "Well now I'm doubly curious. Innit warm there all the time? Or most of the time? Or am I thinking somewhere else?"

Rohaan's hurricane was beginning to slow a little as he burned through his energy, feeling more and more taxed. Mostly emotionally. He couldn't decide between hiding under the strewn linens of Berlin's bed, or throwing the wooden chair around again, or maybe really lighting something on fire. He paced and stomped and clenched his fists until he decided he felt too exposed, and he did want to hide. He snatched up one of the blankets from the floor and wrapped himself in it, and if it was possible to malicously throw himself down on the mattress, he did. The thick weave of the blanket was a comforting texture, at least. It was familiar and grounding, and made him think more of the present than the past. He did not want to think about the past. But the present was scary, too. He tried to exist in the space between, but it did not avail him. A pervasive thought pounded away in his mind like a drum, despite all that Berlin had once said to the contrary.

They've come back for me.

No, that wasn't right, that couldn't be right. But he couldn't shake the feeling anyway. It didn't matter what he told himself, that fear did not go away. And yet...he was not the same boy as he was the last time he had encounters with Barizians. He was harder now, stronger, fiercer. He was ready for them now. If only he'd been like this back then, if only he'd been just a little stronger, maybe he would still be on the shores of his home. That couldn't be helped back then, but things were different now. This was his home, and he'd be damned if he let someone take his home from him again. He would not let them take him again.

No.
No, he would not be a victim. Not again, not ever. So despite feeling still like he wanted to burrow deep into the mattress and hide there, he resolved that he needed to be more active if he was going to defend himself, and his home. Last time, he ran. But not this time.

The door to the captain's quarters burst open hard enough that they slammed against the framing as they opened, and bounced back a little. It was not a boy in the doorway, but a man. Rohaan felt vulnerable and insecure, so he'd compensate by wearing his adult shape in the hopes that the height and extra muscle would buy him some respect. What's more, he had something to say and wanted his voice to be heard. He wanted it to resonate in a way only an adult shape could accomplish. Berlin was alert immediately, and was already crossing the distance between them as Rohaan stormed straight up to Kaga-Met. His hand lifted like he was about to reach for the man, but Berlin got there first and clamped his own, much larger hand around his wrist. The two froze for a second, locking eyes while Berlin tried desperately to guess Rohaan's intentions, and Rohaan seemed to be waiting for a Command from Berlin, for some use of silent force. Berlin did not use even one iota of his magic, despite having a firm grip on the shifter's wrist. He was poised and ready to, but he wanted to see what Rohaan would do, first. In that hesitation was trust, and it did not go unnoticed by the shifter.

He turned his hard blue gaze away from Berlin and back to Kaga-met, looking every bit as fierce and dangerous as a growling, bristling wolf. "YOU," he barked, jabbing one finger of his free hand towards the man, though he was not close enough to make contact. "I got something to say to you! If you're really here to kill these...these..." He spat to the side. "Defilers, if you really want them dead, and that's all you want, then fine." It wasn't fine, not really, but he didn't have the words for anything else. "But if you touch me, or if you hurt my family, I'll fucking eat you." He made sure that word was adequately heard. And he meant it. Nevermind that it was actually a logistical nightmare, he'd do it if they even thought about harming him or his crewmates. It was an abhorrent act among his own people, but it was still not out of the question in extreme cases.
"Rheoaan!" Berlin barked, warningly. Truthfully, if they ever did do any harm to his crew, he'd let the shifter do as he pleased with them. But it was unhelpful to start an alliance with that, and it was not Rohaan's place. "Sit down." his voice was low and dangerous, but again, there was no magical command.
"No!" Rohaan stamped his foot. His gaze locked back onto Kaga-Met. There was murder in his eyes, barely restrained but still, restrained. "Look me in the eye and swear to me. Promise you won't hurt us. Promise you won't hurt me." Despite all his very real anger and his loud, adult-bravado, it was impossible to remove the stain of fear from his words. It was the kind of fear that drove animals to bite and snap, but it was fear all the same. And while Rohaan certainly did have the capability to make good on his threat, beneath all that anger and raw power was still a terrified boy, far from home and haunted by the ghosts of past evils.

Pouring more wine into his and the captain's mug, Wheel listened to Uban's playing. Of the crew, he'd had the most fun with the nine fingered fool. He was a good gambling partner, and his cheeriness helped smooth over situations, and when words failed he was good in a brawl. Uban would know how to deal with Millie coming back into his life. He didn't know how to feel, and it was hard to think about what this meant or what would happen. Handing back the wine to Berlin silently, he set the mug at his feet and started rolling a cigarette, his eyes fixed on the paper.

---

Millie studied Hana curiously as she mopped at her brow with her now purplish sleeve, "You're Elbish, right? Never met a bald Elbish woman before." She said bluntly. She noticed Hana suppress a flinch, and smoothly answered, "I'm a hedge mage. I know enough magic to earn my keep with my knowledge, and show that by shaving my head, but I don't have the right to wear a wig like a proper mage." Millie nodded, satisfied at the moment with the answer. Hana inquired, "That's a rather impressive spear, how did you acquire it?" Millie smiled with pleasure, and hefted the spear to better display it to Hana, "Pretty great, huh? It was a gift from Kaga-met's family, I saved his life enough times that they thought it'd be good to make my job easier." Tilting the tip of the spear so Hana could look at the sides of the blade better, she noticed the short barrels that grew flush out of the shaft. "You can shoot with it too. You won't believe what it does after you've stuck somebody with it," she laughed, "no magic to it, but it's worked for me." Hana murmured something in agreement, her head spinning. Maybe Uban was right about having more wine, she felt like she needed it.

---

Pieter was in the galley, filleting the fish and humming to himself when he heard the door to Berlins cabin slam open hard enough to rattle the pans and sent some flies aloft. "Tevira's tits," he said to himself, then resumed filleting the fish silently.

---

Kaga-met ended his conference with Yawar when Uban asked them a question. He'd hesitated, trying to articulate an answer that would thread the needle between honesty and tact when Berlin cut in. During the short silence that fell as the pirates processed what that fully meant, Yawar grasped Kaga-met's arm and hissed, "Trouble. Shifter." and alerted Millie through a fly tapping out the warning code on her hand. As Uban weakly asked his follow up question, the Barizians were already in motion, Millie crossing the deck on her tentacles as Yawar drew his pistol. By the time the angry man burst out of the door, Kaga-met stood with his feet planted, arms crossed a look of cool determination on his face. Millie to the side of Kaga-met, resting on her tentacles with her spear held defensively, while Yawar stepped behind him, a cloud of flies buzzing around the group, keeping them partially obscured and giving Yawar total vision of the deck. They'd done this before, and were in position before Uban finished his question, his mouth moving despite what he say happening in front of him. As Rio stormed towards Kaga-met, Millie started to raise her spear but stopped when Kaga-met raised his hand as Berlin's closed on the shifter. Play this right and the pirates are ours. He didn't let himself think about the alternative.

Lifting his chin, his dark brown eyes locked with the bright blue of the shifter. He uncrossed his arms and said, "What my kinsmen have done is a crime, and must be punished. I believe this, my crew believes this, and my Path believes this. Since you think the same, we'll bring them to justice easier if we work together. Hurting you and your crew not only takes us away from our goal, but means we'd lose your help when we fight the slavers," he reasoned, "I'll promise that me and mine won't hurt you and yours, but only if you can agree to the same. We don't need to be friends, but we must be a team." He stepped forward, extended his hand, "Alright?"

Uban might have just been tired still, or maybe he was just enjoying the moment and the wine, but he was far slower to the uptake on the sudden shift of events than everyone else. He was never as lightning fast as Wheel, or even Rohaan, who both seemed to have sharp senses and quick reflexes, but he wasn't always this slow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he resolved to actually get some good sleep after this, and before they honed in on their prey. Presently, however, he rose to his feet in a ready stance, holding his lute by the neck as if he might use it like a club. It would be a crying shame to damage it, but since that's what he had in his hands, he wouldn't think twice about splintering it into someone's face.

Blessedly, Berlin was both attentive and quick. He didn't think Berlin used his magic on the boy. Damn, he was a bold man. Kaga-met, however seemed to take the whole situation in stride and with a measure of grace. Rohaan, the little unpredictable rogue, was a powder keg, and if Kaga-met had responded poorly, Uban darkly guessed they'd be on their way to the bottom of the ocean in a half-charred ship by now. He was either a really smart man, or the crew of the Swift was desperate for help. Maybe both.

Rohaan was bristling, a tempest confined to the flesh of a man. In his eyes lay the wrath and hatred born of pain and fear, and in his blood ran the power to sink ships and sow chaos. Yet he kept that at bay for the moment. He did not immediately answer Kaga-met, and he did not accept the offered hand. Berlin, at least, never expected he would take it. The fact that the shifter was speaking to the strangers was notable enough. Instead, Rohaan put out his free hand to Berlin. "A knife, Ca-mm."
Berlin did not hesitate or question this, though he wasn't entirely sure where it would lead. He did know for a fact that if Rohaan wanted to cause damage to these people, he wouldn't do it with a knife, so he took his from his belt and handed it over hilt first. Their eyes met for a long moment.

Rohaan spoke in vokurian: "Let go of me."
Berlin inclined his head and responded in kind. "This is a precarious situation you've put us all in. And we'll have words about this later. Can I trust you, Rheoaan?"
"If I have to trust you, you have to trust me."
Berlin nodded slowly. The lad had a point. Though he had a responsibility to govern the child, he also knew trust meant nothing if it was not mutual. He let go of Rohaan's wrist.

Rohaan's eyes went back to Kaga-met, and as he stared unblinkingly at the older man, Rohaan brought the tip of the knife to the fleshy back of his hand between his thumb and forefinger, pressed the edge hard into the skin, and drew the length of the blade across it. Silver blood welled up and dripped from the cut; Rohaan held up the injured hand until a single drop fell to the deck. He spoke Vokurian once more, for he did not have the eloquence in Carisian to do his meaning justice. And anyway, it felt wrong to perform a ritual like this in any but his native tongue. Since he glanced at Berlin, the captain translated for Kaga-met. "This pact is sealed in blood. Break it, and blood will be your price." With that, Rohaan huffed and returned Berlin's knife before storming off down below in search of something to wrap his hand with. He might have promised not to eviscerate them, but he didn't have to be happy about it.

It was only after he'd found a strip of clean cloth and sat down on the floor with it that he released the adult form he'd been holding and reverted to his natural one. Vaguely, some part of him thought Hana ought to look at his cut, but he didn't feel like asking her right now. He'd go back up there eventually, mostly because he knew that's where the food would be and because he wasn't about to let any stupid stranger keep him away from his weird, adoptive family. This was HIS home, not theirs, after all. But he needed a moment before he went back into that storm. He fumbled with the bandage, but his hands were shaking. Eventually, he got up and went into the galley where Pieter was preparing the fish, unceremoniously holding out the bandage and his silver-streaked hand. "Kia'se..." Help. His voice was soft, and he didn't look Pieter in the eyes. His anger had cooled a little and he looked emotionally spent.

--

There was a tense, electric silence after Rohaan's footsteps faded down below, but these were the moments where Uban excelled. He simply sat back down and started to play his lute as though nobody had made any death threats or blood oaths. Berlin let out a pent breath, silently giving praise for Uban's unflappable good nature. "Honestly, that's the best you'll get out of him," He told Kaga-met. "Children..." he sighed, as if having to talk a kid down from eating people was a normal, relatable aspect of child-rearing. "Anyway, how long have you been tracking this scum? Do you know their number?" Berlin knew his crew was more than capable, but it heartened him to not only have allies, but ones who might be more familiar with their dangerous foe than he.

Hana watched as Kaga-Mets mouth pressed into a thin line as Rio snarled in his strange tongue and slit open his hand with the knife. Accepting the blade, the Brazian did the same, mixing his red blood with silver. He was silent, and watched the boy go belowdecks. Even after he’d gone, there was a far away look in his eyes that was only broken once Berlin asked him a question. Inhaling deeply, Kaga-met blinked rapidly like a man waking up from a slumber.
“Yes. We’ve been hunting them since they left Old Bariz for 3 weeks now. The Swift is a fine ship, but she needs rest, unlike the galleys the slavers use. The oars are pulled by arms similar to what she has,” he gestured to the jaundiced human arms that grew in invtervals along the side of the Swift, “That only pull the oars. They never tire, and it allows them to move faster than should be possible and gives them room for their thugs and victims.” His voice grows tight as he says, “There are four smaller galleys like the one we fought today, each carrying about 50 to 60 fighting men. They’re the vessels used to make their attacks and collect victims, and one large galley they use as a floating refinery and center of operations. It’s heavily armed, and best we can tell carrying around 80 mean, but its slower than the rest. If you catch a strong wind you could gain on them, but if they can keep their distance long enough they can slip away the moment the wind turns against you.” He smiles savagely, “They’d had five of their raiding galleys before we destroyed one of them.” He fell silent again and looked out at the waters.
Hana was overwhelmed by a sense of dread, and approaching Uban, grasped his arm and quietly said, “What are we going to do?”

—-

Pieter whistled to himself as he finished squeezing a lime over the fish, swaying in time with the rocking ocean to make sure none spilled on the deck. It was a great catch, and he’d felt justified in using some of their precious spices and ingredients to make the meal stand out for their guests. If they wanted to seal the deal it’d pay to make sure everyone enjoyed themselves. Short, heavy footsteps made him turn, and the question that had been forming on Pieter’s lips about why Rohaan was visiting him died when he saw the bleeding. He nodded once to himself and set to fixing the boys bandage silently. Taking a (now precious) bottle of rum, he splashed a little on his cut and wiped it away the edge of a rag. After he finished dressing the bandage, he said plainly, “I’ve a lime slice that I was going to suck on, would you care for some?”

Rohaan flinched a little at the rum in his cut, but uncharacteristically less than usual. Normally, he howled and complained every time, but he seemed to either not be in a complaining mood, or the stinging pain helped release some of his anger. Maybe a bit of both. Either way, he did not seem inclined to discuss the happenings on the top deck or exactly why he had a clean slit in the back of his hand. The lad was quietly grateful Pieter didn't press him. The old man usually didn't, and Rohaan liked him for it. The shifter hoisted himself up onto a lidded barrel and perched there as comfortably as though he were another sack of flour, legs crossed underneath him. He didn't answer Pieter's offer with words, though he held out his hand to take the wedge of lime and popped it in his mouth. Rohaan loved limes. He involuntarily squinted a little as the sourness hit him, and then he proffered a small shortbread biscuit to Pieter in exchange. It wasn't clear exactly when or where he'd gotten that, or how many he had in his shirt pocket, but Rohaan often had a penchant for mysteriously obtaining items without explanation or witness.

It took a while, but eventually Rohaan said through his lime wedge, "Shhmelsh nish." Just as he had a way of procuring things, he had an equally unfailing tendency to be wherever the food was.

--

Well, at least Berlin didn't have to worry about trusting this lot. If their captain was willing to put up with that...display? Ritual? He wasn't sure what to call it--and also was willing to repeat the gesture in good faith, then he figured they had no intention of crossing them without some good reason. Good. It seemed like they'd need all the allies they could get.

Berlin felt physically struck at the word refinery, and even Uban's plucking stuttered for a moment. He thought back to the angry, burned-out husk of a fishing town they'd come through and his blood boiled. It was difficult to drive Berlin to crave violence, but that was enough. He tried not to, but he looked visibly angry, his face turning just a shade more red and his hands held at his sides in tight fists. His eyes looked out at the horizon as though he could see his foe through some means of magic. "Damn....damn that's worse than I thought." He released a pent up breath. "Well, the Borealis is a fast ship, but...I don't trust the winds any more than I do the cold waves, and even then, I'm not sure how we'd stack up compared to........arms." Berlin rubbed his bristled chin, studying the Swift. "I wonder...I wonder with those numbers if it would be best not to come right out with a frontal assault--not right away. What if, instead, we lay slow, painful siege to their fleet with a vanguard and weaken them for our arrival? Because if we can get above them, Uban here has developed a special talent with Hana's help that allows him to more or less drop explosives. You have a better idea of where they are than we do, and if the two of you could get out to them faster than either of our vessels, and remain unseen, it could do some serious damage." He glanced down at the stairs that led belowdecks. "If I can convince the lad to allow you on his back, a cyradan would be faster than any ship I've ever known....just a thought." Berlin wasn't sure how he felt about forcing Rohaan and any member of this crew together so quickly, nor did he know how Kaga-Met felt about either himself or one of his crew riding at the mercy of a shapeshifter, but it was worth suggesting anyway.

--

Uban's song was interrupted by a quick dischordant twang as Hana grabbed his arm and his hand fumbled the note. Despite his surprise, he simply looked at her with the same easy gaze he always wore and shrugged. "I dunno...Fight, I guess. Like we always do. Maybe a little more cautiously than usual, more strategy y'know, but..." Another shrug. "I don't see what else we'd do. I mean it'd be a crime against nature to let 'em go, and we're better equipped than any naval ship to tackle this lot." He blinked at her, studying the terror in her expression. "Why? What's got you all tied up in knots?"

Pieter took the proffered shortbread, picked some lint off it, and took a bite, enjoying the sweet cookie. He couldn’t remember anyone making the desert recently, so he had no idea when or how the boy had some. Leaving the rest on the counter within easy reach of Rohaan, he covered the tuna with a terracotta lid and smoothly unlatched the oven and slid the tuna in. As he closed the oven, he said, “It was kind of Hana to give us these limes, she’s only been with us for a short while and she’s been very helpful to have around,” His lined face was tense around the eyes as he looked at the shifter, “Working with new people is what brought us this meal. Do you understand me, boy?”

——-

Kaga-met rubbed his face, although he preferred to keep it bare, it’d grown stubbly since he’d last shaved. “Nine to eighty and hundred. We’ll go down as hero’s taking 20 of them for one of us.” He looked wryly at the pirate, “Yes, I don’t think attacking them directly will get us far.” He spoke slowly, picking his words as he thought, “The Swift can fly above a galley for a long while, and we could carry more of those bombs than what the shifter could manage in his dragon form. If the shifter drove a galley towards us, we could drop bombs and try and destroy it safely from the sky. It’d be difficult to know if there were prisoners on one of their ships, the last one we destroyed was leaving the flotilla to go on a raid, but there’s no telling what has happened since. Your ship could be close on hand to board, defeat the remaining scum and rescue any prisoners aboard.”

His voice had picked up confidence as he spoke, “So long as we can isolate each galley and destroy it in turn, our control of the sky means that their numbers will be worthless. What say you, Berlin?”

——-

Uban’s nonchalance tripped Hana’s anxiety to such an extent that she wrapped around into being calm again, and she blinked confusedly, now more focused on explaining the justifications of her fear than feeling it directly herself. “Well,” she said, using the same tone she’d had when describing how the sigils that channeled Uban’s lightning, though with an edge of panic underneath, “We’re certainly outnumbered, and it would only take one lucky shot on their part and we’d be in serious trouble. And what if they have some hidden monster like the dragon floating next to us on their side? How are we supposed to do this? Why can’t we go into port and tell the authorities?” She squeezed her hand on Uban’s arm, feeling his reassuring bulk. When she realized what she’d done, her cheeks went hot and she stepped back, cradling her hands in front of her.

Pieter brought up Hana, much like Berlin had, and the boy's answer was much the same. He shrugged noncommittally and his gaze drifted to the floor. "Yeah, she's okay. She can stay," he admitted, as if it was ever up to him whether or not she stayed. It might not have seemed like much to be called 'okay', but from Rohaan, that meant something. She really had been nice to him, and he was beginning to understand that she was probably more afraid of him than he was of her, though unlike other stagers, she at least understood that he was a person. Most others feared him and his kind and were cruel for it, but she had never been, he realized. And he had to admit, he did find her very interesting. Hm, maybe it was time he granted her use of his second name. He'd try and remember that once he decided it was time to go back up topside.

Rohaan wasn't exactly in a great mood, but he'd been willing to leave the bulk of his ire topside and just exist in this space for a bit with Pieter. He'd hoped for a quiet refuge and had found one, but Pieter's final comment soured that in an instant. Still sucking on the lime, he'd been absently studying the patterns of wear in the wood floor planks, but Pieter's words made him look up at him sharply, looking suddenly just a bit more animal than boy. It had been a long time since Rohaan had laid hands (or more accurately, teeth) on Pieter, or anyone in the crew, outside of sparring or some other game. His assimilation into the crew had been rough for everyone involved, but since then he'd never meant to do harm to anyone. It was extremely unlikely he would now, but he had that same look about him. A defensive stiffness in his posture and a lack of his usual relaxed fidgeting. A dog showing warning postures before a bite.

A fresh, painful wave of anger bubbled up within him, but it melted away into an expression of betrayal. Not you too...His eyes watered for a moment before he wiped them with the palm of his hand and looked away. "Yeah, and if they do one bad thing I'll get two meals out of it," he snarled darkly. He didn't care if it made him puke, he would sooner eat every last one of them, tentacles and flies and all, before losing his home and his family again. "I made him swear on blood," he said, glancing down at his bandaged hand. "But I don't want them here. This is my home...I can't be in a lot of places other people can 'cause I'm not wanted there, and they come in here to the one place I get to be, like having the rest of the whole stupid world isn't good enough!" His hand shot out and grabbed the first thing on the counter within his reach, which happened to thankfully be a rag, and he threw it with all the force he could muster at the opposite wall.

--

Berlin studied the Swift, wondering what kinds of speeds it was capable of. It worried him a little, sending Rohaan out alone to herd the ships towards them, but he was confident the boy could manage himself if things went wrong. For one thing, he wasn't going to drown, and he was more capable than anyone of escaping a bad situation if one arose. He just hoped he could keep his head. That wasn't something he worried about usually, but this was a different beast, now. After a while he nodded, slowly at first and then with more gusto. "Aye, I think that sounds like a good plan. We'll have ourselves a good meal and get right to work on preparations. Rescuing any prisoners is a priority to me, and I'll see what can be done about determining which ships have human cargo and which do not. Take Uban with you, I think I'll keep Hana and Pieter aboard the ship to manage it, the guns, and provide aid to any rescued prisoners. Wheel and I, I think, will focus on boarding ships. I've got a feeling his friend Millie might do well to come with us, too, but I leave that to your discretion."

--

Uban tried not to laugh, but he did anyway. Not at her necessarily, but simply at the sheer absurdity of the very thought of going through legitimate channels for something like this. He actually stopped playing for a moment as he barked a sardonic laugh. "Authorities? No no no noooo. For one thing, the moment we step foot anywhere near the authorities, it won't just be the slavers we gotta fight. You gotta remember we're just as much of a menace in their eyes, criminals all the same. And maybe Berlin could use his magic," he wiggled his fingers, "to convince somebody to deal with us decently, but I know what the local navy is capable of. Taking down one of their ships for us is a walk in the park, but can you imagine what the slavers would do to em? They'd get shredded. Now, I don't really love the local law, but most of those poor lads got pressed into service, I don't want 'em dead. Those poor suckers have no idea how to deal with weird supernatural anything on any level, but we do. I mean, that's what we do, you know? And yeah, I guess there's always the chance someone lands a lucky shot. The whole reason we even met you in the first place was 'cause someone got one off on Rohaan. But it sounds like they're talking some good strategy, that will help." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at Berlin and Kaga Met.

Uban put his lute down and faced her squarely, placing one hand on each of her arms and giving them a reassuring squeeze. He offered an easy smile. "It's gonna be alright. This is what we do."

Pieter leaned against the bulkhead as the boy raged and flung the rag. It struck the leg of the table with a slightly damp splat and clung for a second before it fell.

“Do ya think that we can’t take care of ourselves, Rohaan? You don’ get to be a pirate this old if you ain’t got vinegar. They’re a tough crew, aye, but nothing we can’t handle. Uban can shoot lightning and Wheel would eat a thunderstorm for breakfast and ask for more!” His voice softened as he continued, “I know the Borealis is home, she is for me too. It’s not fair you’re asked to let strangers in.” He fell silent, thinking.

——

Uban’s laughter, normally so welcome, made the hairs stand up on Hana’s neck. The sinking pit in her stomach started to overwhelm her, and she shakily sunk to her knees. She looked out at the empty sea around them- devoid of any friendly Elbish Expeditionary Corps vessels willing to step in and take care of the problem.

It was just her, the crew, and a band of rogue Barizians.

She could either help them, or she could get in their way, but she wasn’t getting out.

When Uban took her by the arms, something in her caved and she impulsively flung herself around Uban in a tight hug. She held on for a moment, and withdrew, “You’re right. This is what we do.” She looked conspiratorially at Uban, “So, how about we work together on making a light show?”