Story Part 20 (Patreon)

The admiral nodded, “But which buys more?” “Trade with the Realms produces, 74% of our profits, last I checked.” Albertine cracked a sly smile. It was clear that she was about to make her point. “Has it always been so?”

“No!” Gabriela said, a bit enthusiastically, beating Carlotta to the answer. “In the past, there was constant war, with Bleakmorne and the Realms trying to conquer each other, and in turns threatening our cities. That ended when…the realms made the Wardshells.”

The admiral gestured grandly, and began to pontificate. “Very good, Gabriela. The threat is war. War like we haven’t seen in centuries. War that threatens our freedoms and exterminates our trade profits. War that must be prevented at any cost. You are two of the finest captains in our fleets. Your crews and vessels are held in high esteem. Together, you will undertake a mission by sea and by land to preserve this peace—and perhaps win us a tidy profit. Our spy networks have determined that Bleakmorne has made progress in its attempts to destroy the Wardshells. You know what would come next.”

“Respectfully, Admiral, we know nothing of magic, what can we do?”

“Impatient as always, Gabriella. Our spies have also determined that the Council is aware and has sent a unit of specialists to acquire a powerful artifact that can stabilize them—the Crown of Beleth the Pious. The problem is we know that Bleakmorne plans to stop them. The two of you will work together, drawing from your trusted crew members and the best specialists our cities have to offer to stop them. Your priorities are to keep that artifact from falling into the hands of Ursalax’s forces. BUT, she continued, if you can secure the artifact for the Confederation, we will use it to…negotiate with the realms. If you can’t secure it, make sure the Council’s forces get it.

“The rest of the information you need is in this dossier. But you’ll have to work together if this is to succeed—put behind past disagreements. Without the strengths found in both of your crews, there’s little chance to accomplish—“

“And who,” Carlotta interrupted, “Will be the captain on this mission?”

“I was hoping you’d ask,” said the admiral, “that makes what I have to say easier. As each of you has a rapport with your own crew, you’ll each play a major role in this expedition. But I can’t take the chance that your unchecked rivalry will interfere with such a crucial mission. That’s why I’m calling Captian Milisandia out of retirement.”

The two captains looked at each other in disbelief, but didn’t speak a word.

“Oh,” the admiral added, “and she demands that you also bring her own weather-witch, Harimara along.”

Carlotta looked concerned, but Gabriella’s face seemed indignant. “And what’s my rank to be for the duration of this mission?”

The admiral smiled, and leaned on her desk. “Both captains will hold the temporary ranks of ‘Auxiliary Mate.’” “Auxiliary Mate, what’s that?” “Oh, I believe if you search ‘Contracts and Bylaws of the Confederation, Book 3 Article 27,’ you’ll find out all you need to know. This isn’t about your egos, lives are on the line, not to mention our lifeblood of trade and prosperity. Conduct yourselves well on this mission, and the Confederacy of the Coast will owe you a debt. Now take this dossier, meet Milisandia at her residence, and schedule an inspection of each of your crews. She’ll help you decide who to bring, and who to leave behind. Your vessel for this operation will be the Peregrine’s Talon. She’s being armed and loaded as we speak. Now go!”