"A'ight, switch to sails. Time for boiler maintenance!"

"You didn't say it right."

"Damn you and your sailor talk, you know what I mean. I'm an engineer! Let me do my job, you do yours!"

By then, the conversation derailed into a fit of insults and colourful cussing. The engineer stood his ground as he lobbed verbal bombs on his opponents, and the sailors ganged up to pepper him with a volley of crude barbs. Keeping well out of the conflict were the small group of scientists who waited for the shouting to cease. Before setting sail on the Steamship Serendipity, these gentlemen had never heard such verbal abuses spoken.

"Oh thank the heavens!" one of the scientists said, breathing a sigh of relief. The others looked at him with hope and curiosity written across their faces. He nodded to the wheel barometer. "The air pressure has been dropping rapidly."

"Thank heavens? That means a storm is on its way!" another said in exasperation.

"Yes, and I'd much rather my ears be filled with the roar of a storm than with the braying of this drove of asses." The one who had just spoken was Baldovo. He was the exception to the rule that the well-educated were refined and proper. However, his mannerisms were tolerated by the rest of the expedition team.

"Well, shouldn't someone tell them so that they can prepare?" asked Volente, whose delicate nerves were unsuitable for the voyage. Thus he had come equipped with his smelling salts, cologne-drenched handkerchiefs, and herbal infusions. The very mention of the storm cast a green pallor over the reedy man.

"And spoil their fun?" Baldovo responded, placing his hands behind his head.

"We are all in the same ship. It sinks, we sink together," intoned the brassy baritone of Colto, his existence defying the preconception that all scientists were pasty and unfit. Instead, he was broad shouldered, muscular, square-jawed, and swarthy. Rising to the occasion, he bravely interjected himself into the argument. Baldovo applauded his gusto, and Volente held a handkerchief over his face.

A new explosion erupted after Colto said a few quiet but firm words to the captain. Despite their yelling, the crew worked in unison. They were talented at multitasking, getting their jibes in while keeping their hands busy. Their efforts paid off, for they weathered the intense storm.

After the winds calmed, the cleaning and maintenance began. One of the men called out and pointed frantically towards something floating in the sea. At first, the sailors dismissed it as debris. However, the man who had spotted it insisted he saw a person. After several men passed the spyglass around, the captain decided to investigate.

That decision proved fruitful indeed. Someone was pulled from some wreckage, bundled in a waterlogged blanket. It took some time to unravel the unfortunate soul, who, to everyone's surprise, was a woman. The elements had made their mark, for she was blistered and chapped. After a brief discussion, she was taken to the cabins and stripped of her wet clothes and placed in a warm, clean cot.

The three scientists sat in a circle in the mess. "We might have competition. It could be another expedition had come before us to observe the phenomena near the Blazing Crescent," Volente offered helpfully.

"Doubtful," Colto puffed out a ring of smoke from his pipe. "There would have been more debris."

"I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree." Baldovo relented. "She looked like she was drifting on the remains of a small fishing boat."

"Could it have been a tender or lifeboat instead?" Volente inquired further.

Baldovo let out a short bark of a chuckle, then wafted away the smoke from Colto's pipe. "What does it matter if someone else got here first? They won't be returning, and therefore we snatch the victory by default." Both Colto and Volente stared at Baldovo, Colto with contempt and Volente with shock. Neither gaze made an impact. "I am sure we will hear the woman's explanation as soon as she is well. And then we can pick apart her explanation to our satisfaction."

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After the initial novelty had passed, the woman was left to recover, and the SS Serendipity resumed its course. Its purpose was to study the harsh weather conditions around a volcanic archipelago with the express aim of finding a passage through. A pass had been charted generations prior, but after a series of violent eruptions, it was no longer accessible. It was commonly believed that the islands of this archipelago were uninhabited. Beyond this barrier, however, was verdant land with abundant resources. While many tried not to get their hopes up, several were convinced the woman was from beyond the Blazing Crescent.

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When the aforementioned woman had recovered enough to speak, she said very little. Questions were asked, but her answers were often vague or deflected. Language wasn't a barrier, although she had an unplaceable accent. Most of the crew called her Red due to the colour of her hair.

Once Red's strength had returned, she pitched in as best as she could. She helped with cooking and cleaning, falling in line with the crew's pecking order with peculiar ease. There were times it seemed to the crew as if she had been there the whole voyage, for she had an art of being present but unnoticed. She was no stranger to hard work, and yet once the shuffling gait of illness wore off, she moved with lady-like grace. She puzzled the crew, particularly the scholars on board.

The ship's resources were dwindling, but the scientists were unsatisfied with their finding, constantly arguing over the data they collected. The welfare of the crew was the Captains concern, and thus he declared they were heading back. There was another decision that needed to be made: what to do with Red. Determined to get answers, he summoned her to his quarters. When she arrived, she paid him all the respects due and then waited for him to speak.

"You have been with us a while, now." Captain Galli folded his gloved hands behind his back. 'Red' gave no response, but looked at him attentively with her large grey eyes. "We are heading back to Floratti, a port in my homeland of Lomany. Do you know where that is?"

Silence was the woman's initial response, but after a blank span, she nodded. Red pointed to the correct location on a map.

"So you can read?" The woman nodded again. With greater scrutiny, the Captain's gaze travelled over the bedraggled woman. She was short. Although her shoulders were narrow and sloped, her figure spread out into wide hips and thick, sturdy legs. One might call her stout, if one were to be so impolite. Captain Galli had worried her presence on board would distract his men, but when she wore a cap and the loose work clothes, it was sometimes easy to forget she was a woman. That was until she smiled. She had a warm and feminine demeanour when she did. "While you are on this ship, you are under my protection. But once we reach port, that will end. I need to know more about you so I can direct you when we arrive."

The woman looked down, her eyelids drooping without fully closing. After thrusting out her weak chin, she looked up again with a focused stare. "What do you need to know?"

"Where are you from?"

"Siperon."

The Captain's eyes widened before a smile creased his face. "So you are from beyond the Blazing Crescent." Captain Galli seemed pleased. Whether she was Siperian or not had been a heated debate among some of the crew. He stepped closer. "And now, tell me, are you an exile or someone in need of asylum?"

For a moment the woman's expression was unreadable. She stared at the Captain. No. Through him, as though an answer lay beyond. After a few prompting gestures from the Captain, she uttered a response. "No."

"Is there a specific place you are trying to get to?" The woman shook her head again. With a sigh, Captain Galli continued his questions. "Do you have any contacts outside of Siperon?" Another head shake answered his question. "Well, then, what were you doing out at sea?"

The woman's eyes darted side to side and lines creased her forehead. "I was fishing on the wrong side of the island. Then the storm came."

"Is there a right side of the island?"

"Yes. The side facing the bay," the woman responded in a matter-of-fact tone, offering a cheeky cant of her head. When the Captain squinted at her, she immediately straightened up. "The waters are much calmer on the eastern side."

"And which island do you speak of?" Captain Galli prodded, now that he was getting more words out of her.

Uncomfortable, Red fidgeted with the tassel end of her makeshift belt. The Captain crossed his arms and tapped his foot. Seeing this mark of impatience, she looked up again. "I promised I would keep the island a secret."

"Promised who?"

"I also promised not to speak of them."

The captain stroked his beard, mild frustration toiling despite his efforts to be patient. "Alright. What is it you expect to happen when we get to port? Will you want to live in Lomany?"

The woman ceased fiddling with her belt and instead laced her fingers together and laid them upon her midriff. "I have no expectations, sir." Her face became pensive. "Maybe it is time I be more straight with you. You have been good to me. I will tell you a little about myself." The Captain raised his bushy eyebrows, nodding for her to continue. "My name is Trosyn Nytt. I was born in the slums of Roneon, in the Kingdom of Ayokonia. I belonged to no prominent family, trade, or guild. I fought on the losing side of a revolution. Most of my life I did what I could to survive. But I wanted more. I wanted comfort. This desire has led me to where I am now. I was tangled in things bigger than me. But I am not a danger to you or anyone in Lomany. If I have the option to live a simple life, I will take it gladly. If that can be found in Lomany, I will stay in Lomany. If not, I will move on." Trosyn deflated under her baggy clothing and looked down. "I know I do not belong, but I do not need to belong. I just wish to be."

It was a while before the captain could form a response. She had been tight-lipped until that point, and suddenly she was sharing more about herself than mere facts. "I see. That is all for now. Good weather permitting, we will reach Floratti in just over two weeks. You are dismissed, Red." Pause. "Unless you would prefer to be called Trosyn or Miss Nytt."

"Red is fine, sir." Trosyn wasn't sure whether to bow, curtsy, or salute - and instead did all three. The crows feet at the edge of the captain's eyes deepened with the grin he wore beneath his beard.