"No captives, no witnesses." Those were Captain Morris' words as he and the crew of the Old Singing Hound approached the lonely vessel adrift in the sky. A lookout had spotted her earlier in the day. The spyglass revealed she had lost her primary airscrew, leaving her at the mercy of the winds. There was fierce debate among the officers if they should even attempt to raid a vessel this close to a major city. Robert's Anchorage was still a few days' flight and they were approaching from a less travelled direction but there was always the risk that some other vessel would catch them in the act. Reports of pirate activity would force the Royal Navy to increase patrols and conduct more thorough inspections at ports throughout the region. Bad news for anyone who preferred to make some extra money by less legitimate means.
Careful scanning of the sky revealed no one else in the airspace nearby and Captain Morris was able to convince the other officers that this was too rich an opportunity to pass up. The lonely vessel was a smaller craft with side-mounted Aether bags and a flat, open top deck, the sort that was popular as personal transportation for the wealthy. The Captain would lead a boarding party of a dozen airmen on one of the Hound's boats and Nathaniel was among those chosen to join him.
Nathaniel had sailed with Captain Morris for several years. Morris tended to prefer quieter jobs. Smuggling, trafficking, and often did legitimate transportation work when he sailed too far from the less law-abiding skies in the southeast and that was fine by Nathaniel. Perhaps in his younger days he could stand or even enjoy the excitement of daring raids on merchant convoys and fierce battles with Royal Navy ships. Fifteen years of the pirate's life was beginning to take it's toll on him. Sleeping on the wooden floor, often faced with hunger and sickness and injury in battle, Nathaniel was mostly content with his Captain's quieter approach to business but he knew that not everyone on board would be. If a sailor would be content with honest wages he would be on an honest ship. This forced Captain Morris to find ways to line his crew's pockets or risk being removed from his ship, likely by violent means.
"We'll be upon our mark momentarily!" cried the pilot, "doesn't look like she's armed as near as I can see."
"Men on deck?" Captain Morris shouted back.
"I count six on the deck. One of them has a crossbow, looks like."
Nathaniel felt his heart racing. This was always the nerve-wracking part of any boarding operation. Sitting, waiting, not knowing if he would make back alive or in one piece if he did. He and his crewmates would outnumber the sailors on the deck of the other vessel by nearly two to one but for all he knew the hold could be filled with veteran soldiers lying in ambush.
The pilot shouted orders to the men working the cranks that drove the propellers on either side of the boat, maneuvering her into position above their mark. The boat was only intended to shuttle crew and cargo to and from the Hound and lacked a proper engine but with a rotating team of sailors to crank the propellers, and runes inscribed on the blades to increase their pushing force, the boat was a capable boarding vessel and could fly for as long as the men could move their arms and the furnace warming the Aether sack could be kept burning. The Hound herself had a proper steam engine and even a Fire Caller in her employ to speed them along but for the boat there was nothing but the strength of the crew to move her.
The rear door began to open and the rush of wind past the opening in the back of the boat grew deafening. Nathaniel could see the sailors on deck now. The man with the crossbow raised it and let loose a single bolt that struck the ceiling of the boat above Nathaniel's head and clattered to the floor.
"Just a wooden stake, not even metal tipped," Nathaniel thought to himself as he briefly inspected the projectile.
"Dirk! Tether us!" Captain Morris shouted, barely audible over the howling. The bald sailor nodded and took hold of a large gun mounted to the ceiling of the boat. He took aim and in an instant a harpoon several feet long with a barbed metal head flew across the gap between the two vessels and dug deep into the deck of its target, a long rope trailing behind. Jules turned a winch on the boat's cargo crane until the rope was taught.
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"Cross!" Captain Morris ordered as he hooked his tether to the rope and slide down to the other vessel, saber already drawn when he landed. One by one his crew followed him. The sailor on deck was still trying to wind his crossbow when Morris landed and sprinted across the deck. A swift blow to the side of the sailor's head knocked him to the ground, several kicks from Captain Morris' boot ensured he stayed down. The other sailors didn't even attempt to aid their fallen comrade, instead they were pounding on the doors leading below deck, shouting for help, yanking on handles that refused to budge.
Nathaniel was the last to cross. His heart was pounding now. He hooked his tether to the rope and jumped across. He tried not to look down but even so he knew that his life was entirely dependent on the leather straps of his tether and harness. If anything snapped there would be nothing he could do but wait for the end as he fell some three thousand feet to the ground below.
Once safely on deck Nathaniel followed his Captain towards the five remaining sailors. The other men had stopped pounding on the doors and were now on their knees, pleading with the approaching boarders. Nathaniel wished they had fought. It's easier to kill a man who's trying to kill you. Captain Morris had already given the command, though. No witnesses, no captives. This vessel was almost certainly from Robert's Anchorage. Too much risk of someone recognizing the men and outing the Hound as being a pirate vessel if she were inspected by the port authorities. The Hound had no need of additional hands at the moment and the profit from selling them as slaves at a more distant, lawless port was nothing compared to the risk of being caught with them aboard.
One by one the sailors were taken to the aft of the ship and heaved over the railing. Their screams faded quickly as they fell to the earth below. Nathaniel knew that the sound would be added to the chorus of screams he heard in his nightmares. He would have to pick up some more Midnight Tincture in port to help him sleep. He tried not to use it too often. He had seen too many men consumed by it, wasting away to nothing as they chose the blissful stupor over even food. Sometimes, though, the nightmares kept him awake for too many nights and he had no choice but to use it so he could get some rest.
With the crew disposed of the Hound's men could get to work. Axes and prybars were brought to bear on the barricaded doors leading down into the ship. Once inside the crew found only the pilot and no other crew. The man begged to be allowed to join, offering his services as an experienced pilot of all manner and sizes of vessel. Still, Captain Morris' words were firm. "No witnesses, no captives." and the man continued to beg until he was thrown overboard.
Two of the Hound's men begin siphoning Aether from the vessel's bags. Not so much that the vessel would begin to sink too rapidly but enough to top off the Hound's supplies. The rest of the crew investigated the cargo hold and found it disappointingly sparse. Some crates of food and medical supplies were quickly hauled up to the top deck and loaded onto the via the cargo crane. The rest of the hold was mostly empty save for some trunks of clothing and small pieces of furniture.
"Now, what's a vessel like this doing out here all alone." Captain Morris wondered allowed.
"And why did she remain in the air?" Nathaniel asked. "Her main screw is gone but she could have landed instead of staying aloft, waiting for anyone to come along."
"Good question, Nathaniel," Captain Morris replied, walking towards the aft of the cargo hold as Nathaniel followed. "If I had to guess," he continued, "the owner of this vessel ran into trouble back in Robert's Anchorage and had to leave in a hurry. Given he had some supplies already aboard he probably knew trouble would be coming for him and had to leave sooner than he expected."
The captain began tapping the back of an axe against the back wall of the hold. "He probably had to leave in a hurry, too. Put as much sky between him and the city, and whoever he was on the bad side of, as quickly as possible. Likely had his crew push the ship too hard and that's why she lost her screw."
The captain stopped and tapped the wall in the same space a few times. "Men! Axes, here!" he shouted. The crew began hacking at the wall, sending splinters flying. The wall gave way to the assault, revealing a hidden chamber behind. Prybars were placed into the gaps made by the axes and the concealed door creaked, groaned, and finally opened with the sound of cracking wood. Inside the crew found numerous lockboxes and coin purses. Huddled in the corner was a well dressed man with the smooth, pale skin of a wealthy man who had never known a day of hard labor. He was brandishing a small steel dagger in shaky hands. Behind him was a young woman with long blonde hair in a fine blue dress. Clinging to her were a pair of children, tears steaming down their terrified faces.
Nathaniel frowned. He knew what had to be done. Captain Morris was quite clear from the moment the crew set out.
"No witnesses, no captives."