Captain Emma Rollins stood in the wheelhouse of her airship, the Vicious Fall; the dawn had just broken the night's vale on the Samoan harbor and the township of Apia far below. Ships sailing the ocean waves and airships dropping from the clouds were busy entering and exiting the harbor and airport.

"Captain, will we tie up at a commercial dock?" Reo Iti asked.

"Aye, Reo. We are just a commercial trader looking to buy low and sell high," Emma replied.

"Helm set a course for the trader's dock. Find me a nice place, close to the action. But not so close as we can't outrun the local law." Reo Iti ordered, with a hint of a smile.

"Aye-Aye. A nice spot, with a good view and a little shade away from any shitting seagulls," Roland, the sailor at the wheel, confirmed. Emma and Reo Iti looked out over the bay, scanning for the their pray.

"Helm, angle us over the Vaiusu Bayhead. Just past the private docks," Emma ordered.

"Aye, Captain. Out over Vaiusu Bay, then to the private docks," said Roland.

"Reo, can you see the Steamspire Royal Trading Syndicate dock?" Emma asked.

"Aye, Captain. But I can't see the Raven's Claws. But the trading company does like to hide the ship name in the dock," Reo Iti replied. As he busied himself, hanging a bright orange flag. Then, after about ten minutes of pulling it in, another orange flag appeared on one of the wooden towers that would be their dock.

"Roland, take us down to our temporary home at your earliest convenience, please," Emma asked.

"Aye-Aye, Captain," Roland replied.

After a quarter of an hour, the ship dropped into place, and the crew tied off and extended the ramp and ladders.

Walking into the ship's mess, Emma looked around at the few crew at the tables. She watched Hutchens and Amelia seated at the main table momentarily, noting a change in the two of them. They were sitting at the corner and leaning close to each other, heads close, and their discussion was hushed.

"Well, we are docked and ready to go ashore," Emma stated.

"We are in Samoa," Hutchens both asked and stated.

"Yes, I will go hunting for my brother soon. I just wanted to let you know," Emma said.

"We will go with you," Hutchens offered.

"No. This is not the type of place for you. This is a rough-and-tough, pirate-infested town," Emma explained.

"And, why are you safe to travel in this rough-and-tough town?" Hutchens asked.

"Because we are pirates," Mr. Wolf interjected loudly from the kitchen.

"Still, not the signal," said Emma, turning her head towards the galley.

"Then, it is a clear course of action," Hutchens said, ignoring the previous revelations. "We will be coming with you," he said, taking Amelia's hand.

"So, we will be able to get Kincade back?" Amelia asked as she looked at Hutchens.

"Aye? Well, look at that, just a bit of a spine on that one," Mr. Wolf replied, walking out of the galley as he slung a scabbard and cleaver behind his back.

"All right then, these are things we know. Kincade is on the Raven Claws, so it is only a matter of time until the ship arrives or we find it. Then we will get him back," Emma said, noticing that Amelia had now taken Hutchinson's hand and stroked it gently.

"Well, then. Ain't no time to wait. Let's go," said Mr. Wolf, who marched off and out of the hatch, followed by Hutchens and Amelia, hand in hand.

***

The sun was high in the sky, and Emma guessed they had dallied around until almost noon before leaving the ship. Mr. Wolf was in his usual dented bowler, tan pants, and blue jacket, with the sleeves cut off but still covering his favored cleaver. Emma also sported tan pants, neatly tucked into black boots, wearing a white, long-sleeved blouse. Her trusty Kris blade was on her belt, and her pistol was back in its holster, resting on her hip. She wore a bandana to tie back her hair and a straw hat. Hutchens wore a blue three-piece wool suit and constantly mopped his brow with a white handkerchief.

"Well, it does seem hotter than Wellington would be," Hutchens commented to no one. Behind him, Amelia was dressed in a long, blue cotton skirt, a white, long-sleeved blouse, and carried a parasol for protection from the sun.

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"You two, "Emma pointed to Amelia and Hutchens. "How are you armed?"

"Well, I am quite sure that we are not," Amelia responded, lifting her hand to the nape of her neck.

"Okay, then. This is a pirate-infested town. What that means..." Emma started before Mr. Wolf cut her off.

"Incapacitate, befuddle, and or kill before they or you can talk; that is what that means." Mr. Wolf interjected.

"So, you take this, and you get this," Mr. Wolf reached into his pocket and gave a small, four-barreled derringer pistol to Amelia. Then, he handed Hutchens a navy revolver. He stepped up close to Amelia. "Point this at the guy. Pull that lever back, and pull that trigger," Mr. Wolf provided the instructions while pointing at each element.

"I will not take a man's life!" Amelia said, shifting from side to side.

"Aye, right, you are there. That small thing will not kill anyone. But it will be an awful month. Ya have ta shoot first," Mr. Wolf directed and did not wait for a response, moving on to Hutchens.

"You. This ain't your precious little Wellington. This is a free port. We trade in the things, and we trade in trust that if'n I cheat you. You're going to come back and get some recompense. So, don't think the rule of law will help you." Mr. Wolf was cut off by Hutchens stepping forward, waving the pistol as if he were chasing a black fly away.

"You've been mostly useless to date, so if'n we get into it, you're going to take this and shoot someone. Someone who ain't me!" Mr. Wolf added.

"Are you going to let your man talk to me like that?" Hutchens asked Emma, whose face was impassive. She looked first to Mr. Wolf and then back to Hutchens.

"Don't shoot me, either," she finally said. "Why is that, whenever you tell people not to shoot anyone. You never include me in the list?" Emma chastised Mr. Wolf.

"It's what you call," he paused as he replied and scratched his head. "Priorities," he finally ended and again topped the conversation by wandering off into the shadows, and Everyone followed.

Traveling quickly along the dock, the party reached an area where twelve other ships docked. The flags flying from the airships were from the great nation-states, but each nation-state flag flew below the banner of the Steamspire Royal Trading Syndicate.

"The engineering of these ships is amazing," Hutchens announced to everyone.

"They are quite varied," Emma contributed.

"Do you see that one there," Hutchens pointed up to the left? "It is a Spanish double hull. You can see that they have put two primary balloons inside a third. This means that if you lose gas in the interior balloon, the master will capture it. And give you the ability to travel a long way before the inevitability of gravity asserts itself. "Hutchens continued wonderment on his face.

"Well, I am getting quite an education today," Amelia exclaimed, rapping her forearm around Hutchens.

"Can you see the Raven's Claws," Emma asked Mr. Wolf?

"Nay, Captain. The South Pacific company dogs don't name their ships too well. They think it protects the crew from being targeted," Mr. Wolf continued.

"Targeted? By whom?" Hutchens asked.

"People like us," Emma responded.

"Well, then. We will have to just visit each of the docked vessels in turn. It would be the height of bad manners to refuse a polite request," Emma's eyes twinkled.

"Oh, I got to see this," Mr. Wolf said excitedly.

"It could work," Emma said, grinning.

"Captain, we only get things to work if'n we have some scheme or shenanigans. It always works best if we have some sort of violence, as well," Mr. Wolf replied, drawing a raised eyebrow from Emma.

"Amelia, would you approach that ship's watch. That is the man standing at the podium, at the bottom of the tower, and ask him ever so nicely if Kincade is aboard?" Emma requested.

"And, here come the shenanigans," Mr. Wolf's hand moved under the back of his jacket and rested on the handle of his cleaver.

Amelia and Hutchens approached what looked to be the watchstander for perhaps the first Steamspire Royal Trading Syndicate ship in the queue. The man was average height and wore blue pants and a gray tunic. He looked like he had not shaved or slept in two days and smelled strongly of rum.

"Good day, Sir. My name is Hutchens, and this lovely lady is…."

"Who is the whore for?" the man cut in coldly. Amelia gasped in shock and turned a bright shade of red.

"My good, Sir. This is a lady. And, you will apologize for your vile assertion this instant." Hutchens snapped back. Behind them, he could hear Mr. Wolf.

"Ow," he wailed, laughing. "Ain't this all proper like, then, all la-de-dar," Mr. Wolf let go of the cleaver handle and broke down, doubling over, convulsing in laughter, and slapping his leg.

"I don't care if she is the queen of bloody England herself. You got any business here, it would be with a lass for whore'in. And, if that's not it, then piss off," the watchstander thumped a heavy club down onto the podium desk.

"I swear, Captain," Mr. Wolf's voice came from around the height of Emma's waist. "This is the funniest thing I have ever seen," he said between sobs of laughter and attempts to take steady breaths.

"Hutchens! Get over here before we get hurt," Emma intruded.

"But, this man has not offered any apologies for his slight," Hutchens protested, frowning.

Emma said when he was in earshot, "That may be, as well, but he is never going to. So, stop thinking this is a world that runs on your sense of moral rightness, and stay here. Remember why and what we are doing here," Emma used a tone of voice that brooked no negotiation. Holding the stunned Amelia by the forearm, he moved away from Emma, taking Amelia off to one side.

"We need to locate the Raven's Claws, find Kincade, and get him off. And, it must be a masterstroke of villainy," Emma considered.

"And, neither the Captain nor I will be shot during said villainy," Mr. Wolf said.

"And it would appear that during this process, Mr. Wolf will have some sort of emotional growth," Emma suggested, to which Mr. Wolf smiled smugly and nodded.

"Well, if the polite approach was not fruitful, what should we do?" Amelia interposed, having recovered from her earlier experience.

"I suggest that we travel down into the market. We'll get Mr. Wolf to go and buy a few drinks for a few people. And, when we find one that knows something useful," Emma finalized.

"And," Hutchens interjected. "I will not be part of a repeat of that dog and pony show you two used on that poor man back in Wellington."

"Told you back then, boyo. Capt'n will do what Capt'n needs to do." Mr. Wolf emphasized the word Captain as if the very word was the literal lighting bolt carrying the authority of Zeus.

"I understand the need for action, but there are better ways," Hutchens argued and recoiled slightly but obviously when Mr. Wolf glared at him.

"Well, then. If so, we will find a different way, just for you," Emma offered with no resistance. Hutchens turned to Amelia and did not see Emma look at Mr. Wolf. Instead, she shook her head and mouthed silently, "Or not!".