Chapter 12 Maximus
Maximus
The deck pitched beneath my feet as another volley from the sentinel ships slammed against our shield. Each impact sent ripples of blueish energy cascading across the barrier, draining our precious fluxstones faster than we could afford.
Run, I inwardly begged them with each blast. Leave while everyone still has a chance to live.
These sentinel captains were playing a deadly game of attrition. Three ships against one, methodically wearing down our defenses. The strategy wasn’t foolish—they knew our shield couldn’t hold forever.
I scanned the scarred deck, counting crew members. Blood stained the wooden planks where cannon fire had struck before we’d managed to raise the shield. The acrid stench of gunpowder hung thick in the air.
Why were the sentinels being so damned stubborn?
How many lives were about to be lost, one way or another?
But Sunada had been hunting The Black Wraith for years.
This was one of their rare chances to engage us directly.
Our reputation preceded us—we were the most notorious sky pirates there had ever been, after all.
Kaspar Ward, one—
The words of the sentinel announcer had rung in my ears, moments before a cannonball had taken his head clean off.
My Ghost—a wanted criminal? The revelation had struck as hard as the cannon fire.
What crime did he commit? And how the fuck did they know he was aboard?
It wasn’t as if Vulture knew Kaspar’s real name, so they hadn’t gotten the information from him.
But then, who? That was a question for another day.
A whistling sound jerked me from my thoughts. Time slowed as I spotted an iron ball hurtling straight toward my position. My muscles locked, breath caught in my throat. Death, sailing through the air with deadly precision.
The shield flared brilliant azure, catching the projectile mere meters from my face. The impact sent geometric patterns of light dancing across the barrier’s surface, like cracks in glass. For a heartbeat, the ball hung suspended, before dropping harmlessly into the clouds below.
My legs trembled as the adrenaline surged through me. Too close. Far too close.
“Aim for their engine rooms!” Viper shrieked. He’d clearly decided there was no chance of the trio surrendering. That would be the most ideal option for him, as we could plunder their ships, gutting them dry.
Above me, the shield sputtered, flickering in and out of existence as another barrage of cannon fire slammed into us. We couldn’t take much more of this.
“Goddamn it! What are you waiting for?” Viper shouted from the helm, his eyes wild with battle lust. “Take out their engines! Now!”
I signaled to the gun crew, directing their fire. Our cannons roared, belching smoke and iron. The shots flew true, striking the closest sentinel ship. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a series of explosions ripped through the vessel’s hull, sending debris and bodies flying.
The ship listed heavily to port, flames engulfing its decks. Crew members leapt overboard, preferring a long fall to a fiery death. The once proud sentinel sank into the clouds, trailing black smoke like the blood of a wounded leviathan.
One down. Two to go.
The remaining sentinels redoubled their efforts, pouring everything they had into our failing shield. I gritted my teeth as the barrier flickered, threatening to collapse entirely. Just a little longer…
Our guns spoke again, finding their mark on the second ship. The effect was instantaneous and devastating. The vessel’s engine room detonated, ripping the ship in half with a thunderous boom. Bodies and wreckage tumbled through the air, disappearing into the clouds below.
Screams echoed across the sky as the doomed crew plummeted to their deaths. The sound chilled my blood. I’d seen death before, dealt it myself more times than I could count. But this—hearing such sounds of distress—it was beyond horrible.
The third sentinel ship, hopefully realizing the futility of its situation, broke off the attack. It veered hard to starboard, catching a strong tailwind. Sails snapped taut as the vessel surged forward, putting distance between itself and The Black Wraith.
I watched it go, relief flooding through me. We’d survived. Barely. The shield finally gave out with a crackling pop, dissipating into nothingness.
“Reaper!” Hawk-Eyes called out, rushing to my side, face smudged with soot and blood. “The captain wants to give chase. Says we can’t let them escape.”
I shook my head, surveying the damage to our ship. “We’re in no condition for a pursuit! Is he mad?”
“You need to go and convince him, now!” Her voice was sharp with urgency.
I groaned, already turning toward the ladder that would take me to the opposite quarterdeck where Viper stood at the helm. I had to reach Viper quickly, before his bloodlust drove us into another battle we couldn’t win. The ship groaned beneath my boots, the poor thing damaged and vulnerable.
I rushed to the stairs, then zoomed down, taking the steps two at a—
My prosthetic leg buckled without warning. The familiar click and grinding sensation hit me a split-second before the mechanism failed completely. The world tilted violently as I pitched forward, arms windmilling uselessly. My stomach lurched into my throat as I tumbled down the remaining steps.
The deck rushed up to meet me. Pain exploded across my temple as my head slammed against the hardwood. Stars burst behind my eyes, followed by a wave of nausea. For a terrifying moment, everything went black.
When my vision cleared, I found myself sprawled across the deck like a broken doll. A hot trickle of blood ran down the side of my face. The coppery taste filled my mouth where I’d bitten my tongue.
Anger and shame boiled up inside me, a toxic mixture that burned hotter than the pain. I glanced around frantically, praying nobody had witnessed the Reaper tumble down the stairs like a clumsy child. The crew’s respect was my only currency aboard this ship.
I jumped to my feet, fighting a wave of dizziness that threatened to send me back to the deck. My prosthetic creaked ominously but held as I wiped the trickle of blood with my sleeve. The white fabric came away crimson, but I didn’t have time to worry about that now.
With my jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth, I charged across the deck, moving as if nothing had happened. Each step sent a jolt of pain up my leg and into my hip, but I refused to show it. The Reaper didn’t limp. The Reaper didn’t fall. The Reaper was invincible.
I stormed across to the opposite ladder, climbing to the helm’s quarterdeck. Viper stood at the wheel, his oversized tricorn hat casting a shadow over his face.
“Viper!” I shouted as I approached. “We’re not giving chase! We’ve got at least a dozen holes in us, plus our shield is dead!”
He whirled around, his dark eyes narrowing to slits. The skull tattoo on his face seemed to leer at me as he bared his gold tooth in a snarl.
“Who’s captain of this ship, Reaper?” His foul breath hit me as he leaned in. “We’ve got them on the run!”
“We’ve got ourselves half-sunk,” I countered, standing my ground despite the throbbing in my leg and head. “Another volley, and we’ll join those other ships in the clouds below.”
“Coward,” he spat. “I expected better from the great Reaper.”
My hand fought to move toward my sword. “It’s not cowardice to avoid suicide, Captain.”
For a tense moment, we stood locked in a silent battle of wills. The few crew members around us had gone quiet, watching the confrontation with wary eyes.
Finally, Viper’s gaze flicked to the blood on my face, then to the damaged sections of the ship. “Fine,” he growled. “But we’re not leaving empty-handed. Take us down. Let’s see what we can salvage from the wrecks.”
I nodded curtly. I’d expected that—it was as much compromise as I was going to get. “Aye, Captain. A fine choice.”
There was still a trickle of blood dribbling from my head wound, but the dizziness had passed. Thank the goddesses for that—I needed all my wits about me for the dive.
“Butcher,” I shouted, “take two men and move the ballast tanks to forward position!” The tanks currently lay in the middle of the cargo hold.
When we needed our bow heavier than our stern, the tanks were pushed forward.
Turning to the crew, I bellowed, “Prepare for descent! All crew on main deck are to attach to a safety line within thirty seconds! And someone warn below deck!”
The ship erupted into controlled chaos as pirates scrambled to comply with my orders. Safety protocol during salvage operations was one of the few rules even Viper wouldn’t dare violate—not after losing three men in a single descent operation last year.
“Move your worthless hides!” I shouted, my voice carrying over the wind. “Anyone not attached to a safety line when we descend will be cleaning Viper’s quarters for a month!”
The threat worked wonders. Bodies collided as aeronauts rushed to the storage lockers where the leather safety harnesses were kept.
Fingers fumbled with buckles and straps as they hastily wrapped the thick bands around their torsos.
Maneater nearly strangled himself trying to loop his harness over his massive shoulders, while Hawk-Eye’s belt hung so loose it threatened to slip right off her skinny frame.
I moved to the port-side rack, pulling on my own harness with greater ease than the pirates.
In cadet camp, they’d made us practice for weeks on end.
The worn leather was supple beneath my fingers as I slipped it over my shoulders and cinched it tight across my chest. The metal hook and clip system dangled at my hip, ready to be attached to the safety lines that ran the length of the ship.
“Below deck crew!” I bellowed. “Secure all loose items and grab the handrails! We’re going down hard and fast!”