Several bottles of wine later, the crew of the Endeavour were gingerly making their way down the scaffolding of the Daedalus’s cradle, a pair of amused crew members making sure they made it down safe. Of course, getting back up to the Endeavour would be all on them.

‘Here, Captain, the Captain wanted you to have this,’ one of the crewmen said, passing Rhys a full bottle of blackberry wine once they reached the bottom of the cradle.

‘Tell him I’ll toast his health with it,’ Rhys said, slurring the words slightly as he swayed in the breeze.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Lucy said, swooping in with hawk-like precision to snatch the bottle from Rhys and scurry off toward the Endeavour with a giggle.

‘Enjoy, Captain,’ the crewman said, a slight smirk twitching onto his face as he glanced at the fleeing Lucy. ‘I hope you have a productive evening.’

Rhys frowned at the odd wording, but the other man was already heading back, and everyone else was heading for the Endeavour. Considering that he had the keys, he wasn’t sure what they were going to do, but he hurried along anyway.

The fresh air helped sober Rhys up a little as he caught up with the other three, who were waiting at the top of the cradle. The bottle of wine was open and being passed around between them, with almost half of it gone already.

‘To the galley?’ Oliver asked as Rhys finally managed to open the outer hatch. ‘I have a few bottles of my own stashed away for just such an occasion.’

‘Yeah, why not,’ Rhys said, the others cheering as he let them inside and closed up behind them.

It took them a while to pile into the galley, and somehow the stairs seemed to be at least twice as long as usual. Oliver was quick to produce the additional bottles, though they were a harsh vodka that contrasted sharply with the sweet wine.

Rhys grimaced as he took his second swig of the bottle, one of his eyes twitching at the kick from the strong alcohol.

‘I’m going to bed, trading to do tomorrow,’ Oliver said abruptly, standing up and swaying a little as he turned and staggered to the door.

‘I’ll make sure he makes it back, then turn in myself,’ Tom said, standing up much more smoothly and heading after the drunken cargomaster with a chuckle. Tom had drunk as much as Rhys, but the big man held it well. His rosy cheeks and perpetual grin did show that the booze was having an effect, though, so Rhys didn’t feel too bad for his own state.

Rhys must have zoned out for a moment, as the next he knew, Lucy was tugging him to his feet and pressing empty bottles into his hands. Once Rhys had three or four, she sent him up on deck while heading back to her cabin with a frankly malicious giggle.

Confused about what was happening, Rhys went up on deck and stared up at the night sky. He’d always been fascinated by the stars, and he’d spent many an hour looking up at them while piloting the Endeavour at night.

‘Okay, are you ready?’ Lucy called out as she came pounding up the stairs, vodka in one hand and pistol in the other. At some point, since she went to her cabin, the top few buttons of her shirt had come undone, making Rhys stare for a few moments before he flushed and looked away.

‘Ready for what?’ Rhys asked, glancing back at her and noting the smirk she gave him.

‘My pistol is ready for its first trial. I charged it this afternoon with that runescript device you have,’ Lucy said, holding the pistol up and waving the bottle at it for emphasis. ‘Now, set the bottles on the side so that I can shoot them.’

Shrugging, Rhys carefully walked over and set the bottles up on the railing of the Endeavour, the last one taking him several attempts before he could balance it right.

Turning back, Rhys saw Lucy leaning against the far railing, taking a sip of vodka as she looked out over the edge. She glanced back and saw that he’d finished, a grin spreading across her face as she beckoned him over.

‘Here, hold this,’ she said, slurring heavily as she pushed the almost empty bottle into his hands.

Rhys knew that he should put a stop to this, now was really not the time to be testing weaponry, but he found it difficult to really care. Besides, he wanted to see what the pistol did as much as anyone.

‘Testing the first barrel,’ Lucy said, cocking the hammer on the pistol that would connect the activation rune to the set on the barrel. Bracing herself somewhat unsteadily, she pulled the trigger.

A ripple of force fired out from the pistol, smashing into the first barrel and exploding it into a cloud of glass. A few shards rained onto the deck around him, and Rhys noticed with interest that the glass was frosted and had a slight layer of ice to it.

Before he could say anything, Lucy fired the next shot, this one exploding the bottle with a burst of flame. Laughing madly, Lucy fired a third time but missed by a fair distance. Frowning, she rotated to the final barrel and lined up the final shot, swaying slightly before squeezing the trigger.

Unlike the other two that had hit, this shot didn’t impart an elemental effect to the bottle. Instead, it seemed to hit the bottle with extra force, blasting it off the side as it shattered so that all the debris flew away from them.

‘Now that’s what I’m talking about!’ Lucy shouted, punching the air and turning to grin at Rhys.

‘That was pretty awesome,’ Rhys said honestly, looking at the shattered remnants of the bottles.

‘Damn right it was!’ Lucy said, sauntering over and taking the vodka back from him with a wink. Taking a heavy swig, she coughed at the burn and cocked her head at him with a strange smile.

‘So what now?’ Rhys asked, gesturing to the pistol in her hand.

‘Now?’ Lucy echoed, the smile turning mischievous as she tossed the pistol aside and took a step closer to him. Raising the bottle, she drained the last of the vodka and took another step, bringing her right up to him. An intensity to her gaze sparked something in Rhys, and he felt his heart race as she leaned in.

The moment seemed to hang in the air for a few heartbeats as she leaned closer. A sudden paleness swept across her features as Lucy grimaced, bent over and vomited all over his feet.

Recoiling back, Rhys moved around to help support Lucy as she heaved up something truly horrifying. He was never so thankful that Zaxx would do the cleaning up for him.

Once Lucy was done, Rhys scooped up the pistol and helped Lucy down to her cabin and got her into bed. The semi-conscious woman started to pull off her shirt as he was getting her into bed, so Rhys beat a hasty retreat, firmly closing the door behind him once he was in the hall.

His head was pounding, and he felt exhausted. It was time to sleep off the rest of the alcohol. He’d deal with all this tomorrow. He still had her pistol tucked into a pocket, but he didn’t want to intrude now. He’d leave it in his room until tomorrow.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, Rhys made his way back to his own bed and collapsed with a heavy sigh. He was sure the room would stop spinning soon.

-**-

‘Rhys, you need to wake up. Rhys. Rhys. Wake up, Rhys,’ Zaxx repeated, his whispers making Rhys cringe and hold his head in pain.

‘I’m awake, I’m awake, what’s going on?’ Rhys said, sitting up gingerly as he reached out to grasp the mug of chilled water Zaxx had left on his bedside table.

‘One of the crew from the other ship is trying to gain entry, but no one is awake to answer them.’

‘Alright, alright, I’m on the way,’ Rhys said with a grumble, getting to his feet and rubbing his face to try and wake up a little more.

‘I would advise against consuming so much alcohol in the future. It seems to negatively impact you quite considerably.’

‘Thank you, Zaxx, I hadn’t noticed,’ Rhys said, rolling his eyes and yawning heavily. He needed another ten hours sleep at least, but duty called.

Lucy’s pistol lay on his bedside table, but Rhys thought it might come across badly if he opened the hatch with a gun in hand. He’d make sure she got it back later.

Rhys rapped on Oliver’s door as he went past. Hopefully, the cargomaster wasn’t in too bad shape this morning. He had been the first to turn in, but he’d also been hitting the wine the heaviest.

Remembering his mistake from last time at the last moment, Rhys stopped himself from going straight to the hatch and instead went up on deck. Thankfully, Zaxx had cleaned up from the night before, so no nasty smells or scattered glass awaited him.

A knocking sound from off to one side brought Rhys over to the railing. Peering down, Rhys saw a man knocking loudly on the hatch, a large satchel sitting at his feet.

‘Good morning. What can I do for you?’ Rhys called down, his head throbbing at the loud noises.

‘The Captain sent me to negotiate with you. Can I come aboard?’ The man looked up at Rhys with an easy smile and a half-salute.

‘I’ll be right down,’ Rhys called back as he sighed and headed back downstairs. His head was pounding right now, but the extra trip up to the Endeavour’s deck had been a necessary evil.

Rhys let the sailor from the Daedalus inside, the impeccably groomed moustache and tailored uniform the other man wore making Rhys feel more than a little self-conscious.

‘I’m Dorian, assistant quartermaster on the Daedalus. You must be Captain Hunt,’ the man said, his easy demeanour helping put Rhys at ease as they shook hands.

‘Yes, and please forgive my appearance. We had a late last night,’ Rhys said, blushing a little as he recalled just how much they’d drank.

‘I’m not surprised,’ Dorian said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. ‘Those bottles were from the Captain’s private stash, they might taste sweet, but they pack an abyss of a punch.’

‘Yeah, and the vodka that Oliver had didn’t help matters,’ Rhys said under his breath as he led Dorian through to the galley and gestured for him to take a seat. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’

‘Please. Will I be negotiating the trade with yourself?’ Dorian said, taking one of the seats at the small table and placing the satchel he carried on the floor next to him.

‘No, that will be with Oliver, my cargomaster,’ Rhys said, busying himself setting the water to boil for several cups of tea. He had a feeling that they would be making inroads on their supply of herbs today.

‘Which would be me,’ Oliver said, walking in on cue with more pep in his step than he had any right to.

‘Ah, Dorian Demeteras, at your service,’ Dorian said, rising to give Oliver a half-bow. ‘I am the assistant quartermaster on the Daedalus, and I’m here regarding the trade for salt that was agreed upon last night.’

‘Well, let me have a cup of tea before I take you for all that you’re worth,’ Oliver said with a grin, seating himself opposite Dorian.

‘Better men than you have tried, but they always fell a little… short,’ Dorian said, sitting back down and quirking his eyebrow in Oliver’s direction.

‘Ah, so you prefer, long and hard negotiations,’ Oliver said, his grin turning into a smirk as he drawled out his sentence.

Rhys definitely felt like he was missing some subtext, but he was far too tired and hungover for this. Risking a glance at the other two, who were too busy with their conversation, Rhys stepped back and mentally asked for Zaxx to speed up the boiling.

All but instantly, the shrill whistle of the kettle announced that it was ready, and Rhys was quick to fill the largest teapot they had. A cotton bag filled with several kinds of mint went in with the water, and now all he had to do was wait.

Oliver and Dorian left not long after they’d drunk their tea. Oliver had taken Dorian up on an offer to take a look at the operations happening on the spire. As far as Rhys could tell, not much bargaining had actually happened while they were in the Endeavour, but he was sure Oliver would come through for them.

Finishing his drink, Rhys headed back to his cabin to find his map. He wanted to plan out their next few moves.