Bosk rushed through the corridors with the certainty a few minutes less would not dodge a reprimand. Vega was busier than ever, and with more stress piling up, the more difficult it was to deal with him.

“You’re late,” the Grand Admiral said dryly. Bosk reached for his cornered little desk and looked down silently at his pile of papers. The outburst of complaints, an issue too common in recent times, did not happen. Out of the corner of his eye, he followed Vega, scribbling his signature and dragging papers from side to side incessantly. “So?” said the Grand Admiral.

“The transaction report arrived late,” Bosk lied. “I have already punished whoever it concerns. And the first-hour visit has not yet arrived. Do you wish to delay the meeting with the Rajah’s uncle or would you prefer to postpone the-”

“Let the parni idiot wait.” The scribbling continued as Bosk reorganised some papers. Vega was careful when it came to insulting, especially people with whom he got involved in business. If he had dared to call the de facto governor of Tampraparni an idiot, even under the confidentiality that only he and the admiral enjoyed in his office, it meant there was already very little the Southern nation could do to escape the tentacles of the Kraken.

Upon hearing a knock, Bosk rushed to open the door, but Vega instructed the visitor to enter before he could reach. The man in question threw his jacket and hat toward Bosk and opened his arms, waiting for a hug that would never come. His smile, wide and lying, was enclosed in a face deformed by horrific scars. Vega stood up with a smile he rarely offered to anyone, although the warmth of his welcome lasted a little. With a wave, he commanded the visitor to sit and the scared man rushed to comply.

“My dearest Vega, how long has it been?” The scared man said.

Surprisingly, Vega’s anger had not erupted yet, and Bosk swiftly addressed the disrespectful familiarity to avoid a shout. “It’s Grand Admiral Vega, or Lord Vega.”

Vega puffed himself before sitting with condescendance escaping from his lips. “I have known Jeremiah for a long, long time. Let him have this one.”

“Oh, no, no. It’s my fault!” Jeremiah said. “I got carried away by the excitement of seeing you. It will not happen again, my admiral. What about this new ‘Lord’ title you have? What have I missed?”

“I have married one daughter of the Rometti king. A chubby, brainless delight who will open a lot of doors for me.” Vega broadened his smile. As Jeremiah joined the palpable malevolence filling the air, Bosk’s hair stood on end.

“I did not know! What does the Siren think of that? Does she know?” Jeremiah asked, putting excessive interest on the matter. Vega bent down to take his bottle of brandy out of the drawer and after filling two glasses with a pinch of liquor, they both hurried to raise for a toast.

While Jeremiah drank with unpleasantly noisy sips, the admiral did it as a gentleman should. Silent and quick. “She knows, and she doesn’t mind,” Vega said. “As long as I don’t interfere with her business at sea and keep her satisfied in bed. But enough chatting, I summoned you because you must spur those lizards around the south islands, J.J. The Rajah is not giving me the protection of those plantations.”

“They have put all men and-”

The Admiral shushed. “Don’t tell me excuses. It’s been almost a year wasting money on that scum. Or did that gold end up in someone else's pocket? You instruct your dogs to bite harder and more often. That’s it. Or I’ll look for another bunch of mangy mutts and a better dogcatcher to hold the leashes.” Vega readjusted the eye patch while his face contorted with a menacing grin.

Even though he was used to seeing the Admiral use coercion tricks every day, Bosk couldn’t stop his chills from increasing. Jeremiah, who seemed to understand who he was talking to as well, gulped and nodded slowly. Vega, knowing his threat was successful, poured another round of brandy, this time just for himself.

“That patch suits you,” Jeremiah said.

Bosk’s breathing froze. His eyes darted towards Vega, expecting his veins to pop, his teeth to grin. “It makes you look even more authoritative.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The added statement emptied Bosk’s lungs and raised Vega’s lip.

“I swear, my good Lord, I’ll find that little bitch and make her pay dearly,” Jeremiah said.

“No!” Vega cut. “If you catch her, you bring her to me, understand? Now, dismiss. I have other matters to deal with.”

Jeremiah raised to bow and left, lacking all the friendliness he had on arrival.

The office silence, a luxury Bosk used to enjoy very little, turned out short as expected. “Did the new machinery reach the Maze?” Vega asked.

“Yes, sir. But Captain Huzar requests more men to work the passages,” Bosk dragged papers over the table. “Two more crews have deserted this month. A fourth and a second-rate ship. Reports say they sailed north as all the rest. It’s a total of fifty-seven vessels. Including-”

“It doesn’t matter,”

Bosk found the courage to step over the Admiral’s worlds. Although it was scary, he was aware Vega chose him as assistant, not because he was smarter or more skilled than others. It was because he always told him what had to be said, no matter how infuriating it may be. “From the northern fleet had been three more desertions, and there are twenty unconfirmed or missing-”

“Enough!” Vega cut. “It doesn’t matter! Herjard has finally agreed to send me my new fleet. It’s nothing the world has seen before. My Adamant is an ancient piece of junk compared to those beasts.”

“I knew nothing about that,” Bosk said, stopping his writing for a moment.

“I tell you what you need to know when you need to know it, nothing more.”

“Are those new ships the self-reliant ones you spoke about?” Bosk asked. Vega agreed with a hum. “Do they need the radio signal to communicate?” Vega hummed once more. “I’m in charge of supervising the construction of the island’s tower net and the communication ships and the projects are-.“

Vega’s jaw tensed. A sign the little leverage Bosk had over him was over. “Enough is enough!” The admiral said, hitting the table with his palm. “I got your point. What I want you to do is to help me find out how to sail those intricate shoals. How about the Blue prisoners? Did they give any clues? Anything to fill our charts? And don’t dare to criticise my plans again.”

“Of course not, my lord.” Bosk sighed and reprised his accounting. “Gupta is waiting for me now. I’ll instruct him to work the tools harder.”

“Some of those men were spies living in Tampra, weren’t they?” Vega said. “Arrest all the relatives. Tell Gupta to work on them in front of the prisoners. Unless they talk, of course.”

Bosk wrote some random numbers before letting out another sigh, this one too loud to be concealed. “You don’t approve?” Vega asked. “You think I’m a monster, don’t you? Let me tell you this. I’m not, that’s why I used ‘unless’. I’m not executing anyone. Just giving a choice where harm is easily avoidable. If they are the parents, husband, children or brothers they should be, they’d put the safety of their loved ones before anything else. If Gupta’s men have to do the unspeakable, it will be their entire fault. Not mine! Now get out of my sight. Your presence tires me!”

Bosk stacked papers to calm his frustration. He couldn’t care less about the prisoners or their families. And in his opinion, Vega was not a monster. Quite the opposite. What infuriated him was his boss' fixation on that corner of the sea hiding an annoying nobody. A vengeful obsession damaging his credibility and decimating his resources. Before closing the door, Bosk turned towards the Grand Admiral. “My Lord, please update me about the meeting with the-”

Vega shushed and waved with disdain. Bosk contained the desire to slam the door. Throughout his career, Bosk had always felt misused. Smarter than anyone and with more skills than any of his teammates, he was always too good for his employers. To him, there had never been one who didn’t seem to be like a loser. This was not the case with Vega. The admiral was a true winner. A champion overshadowing everyone in its path towards victory. Bosk, from the first day with him, knew it: And from that day until now, he admired him because of that. He admired the dedication, the recklessness, the hunger for power and wealth. But many more times than he would like to admit, the admiral put everything in danger because of stupid slits and volatile temperaments. And Bosk was smart enough to foresee the dangers of such weakness.

Gupta raised as Bosk arrived. “Sir? What does the Grand Admiral want me to do with the prisoners?”

“Any survivors from the city raids?” Bosk asked. Gupta nodded. “Then arrest all the relatives, and you warn those wretches either they reveal the passage to the Blue Kingdom, or their boys and girls will lose hands, kneecaps, and pieces of skin. Is it clear?”

Gupta nodded slowly, without raising his head afterwards. “They won’t talk. Stubborn bastards they are.”

Bosk snapped his teeth and crossed his arms. The blood pumping furiously through his veins gave him a glimpse of the power he shared with the only man above him. The feeling put a grin on his face. “Then, as the Grand Admiral always says, never make a threat you are not prepared to fulfil.”