A/N: Steampunk AU written for Hearts & Cauldrons SummerFest22 for the prompt "Hello Sunshine" and originally published on AO3

Any French in this story is potentially too modern (I mean it's not that different, but turns of phrases, etc do change; I'm cutting myself some slack because this is already HP AU airship pirate shenanigans, lol) and most translations are given throughout the text. The few that aren't will be marked with a * and you'll find those translations in the endnotes.

Non-con/assault is NOT between the main pairing.


Chapter 1


The morning summer sun was shining across the oak floorboards of the deck of the airship Thestral, pleasantly warming the crew from the feet up in spite of the coolness of the air. They scurried about below the heft of the large oblong balloon that was keeping them afloat. Now and again one of them would have to climb the main mast up above the balloon to check the rigging, but never when preparing for a stream shift. It was one of the primary rules of sailing the skies, mainly for safety reasons. A whistle sounded somewhere on deck alerting the crew to strap themselves in or go belowdecks as Airship Captain Hermione Granger adjusted her goggles as the band squeezed around her thick curls. Crossing from one aether current to the other was tricky business, but she wasn't worried in the slightest. She had done it countless times over the last five years, in spite of being one of the youngest captains in the business. And what a booming business it was!

She made regular crossings from Britain to the continent with both passengers and goods, touching down in airfields on the outskirts of places like Paris, a marvelous city of art and invention, or Stuttgart, already a pinnacle of industry and the best place to buy new parts for her ship (and recruit new mechanics). For some time she had dreamed of seeing the fabled Mediterranean coast, so when a private company inquired about chartering a flight all the way to Nice, she only made a show of consulting her ledger before she accepted.

The voyage had started much like any other as each member of her crew did their part, whether it was feeding the furnace or checking the rigging or keeping the decks tidy. The aether currents were always a bit dodgy over the Channel, and hitting one to two air pockets along the way lent itself to a bit of white-knuckle steering, but it wasn't anything she hadn't handled before. Everything had settled down as it should once she got further inland. It was a beautiful day for flying, in any case — not a storm cloud in sight. The gentleman passenger she had taken onboard, a certain Severus Snape, had yet to show himself since he boarded that morning and went directly to his room, though his man, a grizzled old fellow never seen without his bowler hat and with a beard that seemed ostentatiously long for a valet, wandered about deck like an old hand, chatting with the midshipman and a few other crew members. She should have been suspicious about it, she realised in hindsight.

At present, though, her lips were pursed in concentration as they made the final current hop to one that would take them in a southwestern direction. Behind her, a crew member sent a message to the boiler room, asking for more power. To her left was a sharp-eyed woman by the name of Lavender Weasley who served as copilot, her long brown hair decorated by colorful ribbons. Lavender was tasked with searching the skies, always on the lookout for storm clouds, passing ships, and airborne menaces. It had been a calm flight thus far, rarely so much as passing a fellow cargo ship, aside from when they were flying directly above Paris. Hermione turned her wheel gently, easing them as well as she could into the other stream. The ship rattled as it was beaten by crosscurrents, but no worse than usual. There was a cloud bank ahead which would make things bumpy again for a few minutes, but the sun shone clearly above — not a storm in sight. Hermione steered expertly into the other stream, now glad to be on the final leg of the trip, even if it made up nearly two-thirds of the flight time.

'That wasn't so bad, eh?' she asked Lavender. And that was when it all went to heck.

Hidden in the cloud bank was a ship of pale grey, just the hue for shady business. There was a gasp from Lavender whose binoculars were zoomed in on something ahead, which alone would have been enough to alert Hermione that something bad was about to happen. But she, too, had spied the ship as well as its flag, hoisted high above their balloon. It had a skull with a lion's mane, the symbol of the Pirates of Poitiers, dread of the skies.

Hermione didn't know the entire history of the group, but knew it potentially had something or other to do with a war that had happened hundreds of years ago between Britain and France, or perhaps it was between France and the Duke of Aquitaine… ah no, it was because said Duke was also the King of England. Not that a history lesson at the moment would help in facing the actual pirates themselves.

Cannon fire filled the sky with smoke and ear-shattering noise as Hermione shouted for her crew to return fire while she tried to sail higher still. She had no idea how fast their ship could go, but she was confident of her own vessel's capabilities. She hadn't graduated at the top of her aeronaut school by simply coasting along! In a worst case scenario, she could turn around and slip back into the other aether stream and try to lose them. But before that, she would try to sail up higher. The air was thinner and it was risky, but it would also give her a boost in speed. It would also put the balloon further out of reach from enemy fire. The boards beneath her feet shook as a cannonball hit home, striking the railing on the starboard before crashing soundly into the deck, sending splinters of wood into the air. Lavender had left her side, helping another member with rigging that was threatening to tear loose. And it was amidst this chaos that the old valet reappeared on deck, stating that his master demanded to know what all the noise was about.

'Pirates,' Hermione shouted at him. She didn't have time to play tour guide when her ship was being threatened. If the enemy hit true and they lost the balloon, it would only be a matter of minutes to get to the lifeboats that would allow them to glide to the ground — if those weren't damaged as well.

The valet looked round, taking in the scene around him, but hardly seeming alarmed about any of it. In fact, he seemed quite calm. Too calm.

'Found us, did they?' he queried aloud.

'You're serious?' she shouted.

The old man just smiled even as his strange master approached her, each step with purpose and arrogance.

'I suggest you let me handle this, Captain,' he growled as he towered over her.

'Stand down. This is my ship and I'll see us through this.' Her hand that wasn't holding onto the ship's wheel was on her hip and her brown eyes blazed.

'Perhaps you didn't understand,' he sneered, pulling a revolver out from beneath his travelling coat. 'I said I'll handle this.'

Hermione's eyes grew wide as she now noticed on his coat the outlines of where an embroidered insignia used to be. There was no mistaking it — it was the same as the one on the flag of the pirate ship. 'You're one of them!'

His lip curled in disgust. 'Used to be. Which also means I know how they fight. Trust me when I say that they don't play by your silly rules.'

The pair of them stared hard at one another. Lavender later recalled to Hermione that she was afraid that one of them would burst into flame so intense was their gaze. (Of course, Lavender was given to flights of fancy at times and Hermione was good enough to overlook them.)

The former pirate's narrowed eyes were as dark as coal and equally shiny, like a night sky with only a few scattered stars. His itself face was hard — thin lips pressed into a sneer which only accentuated his hooked nose and a set chin, the visage of someone who had been forged in a crucible of distrust and anger. But Hermione wasn't one to shrink from a threat.

She pulled herself up to her full height, which admittedly wasn't very tall, and snorted rather unladylike at the man. 'You could be the ruddy King of England for all I care. If anything happens on this ship, it's because I say so and no one else. You may offer assistance, but you, sir, are most certainly not in charge.'

The man, who didn't seem the least bit threatened by her show of authority, made a sort of snarling noise. 'Fine. Steer back into the cross-current while continually going higher. Their ship is fast, but it is too light to handle much turbulence.'

'Hold tight, everyone,' she cried, 'we're going back into the other stream!' A crew member sounded the air-current warning whistle once more and Hermione turned the ship as quickly as she could. 'Keep firing on them until we enter the other current!' she shouted. She didn't like having to turn during a fight. It was risky and opened up yet another part of the ship to enemy fire. Another cannonball hit, this time near the rear and the men shouted at one another above the din. She had been through a few skirmishes, but never one like this. Damned if these pirates were going to get the best of the Thestral. She only hoped that the ship wouldn't break apart in the manoeuver meant to save them.

It took all her strength to keep the ship on a steady course. As they re-entered the current, she did so at an angle instead of coming alongside, this time intended to drive into it. It was about as forgiving as a tropical storm. A gale tore over the deck, pulling loose some of the rigging. There was more shouting as crew members, ropes securely fastened around their waists, were attempting the arduous task of walking across the deck in an effort to repair what damage they could before everything was ripped to pieces. She could hear the screeching of the wood below her feet and the awful wail of the cross-current blasting against the balloon. If they made it out of this, she would need to find somewhere to land and make repairs before continuing the journey. And her passenger was going to need to pay for the extra expenses incurred.

Sometime during this, Snape had reached around her, holding onto the wheel as well, grasping the tops of same spokes as she. In her intense concentration, she had hardly noticed until he leaned down and shouted over the howling wind that she could finish the hop to the other stream, that they were no longer being followed. Snape did not let go until they were safely in the north easterly stream, breathing heavily somewhere just behind her.

'Well done, captain,' he rasped.

'A little warning would have been nice,' she grumbled. She couldn't believe the nerve of this man.

His posture grew at once defensive. 'How was I to know they were waiting for me?'

'Someone must have told them you were coming. Or did that not enter your mind?' He really was infuriating. Impossible. And winding her up rather nicely. 'Your valet didn't seem surprised in the slightest.'

'Would you have agreed to take me to Nice had you known?'

She huffed and retook the wheel in spite of the fact that her hands were practically crying after gripping the wooden spokes so tightly. 'No. Of course not.'

'Then it is a moot point. I would suggest at this point that you take the ship down near Blois for repairs.' He didn't sound demanding, but he was clearly used to being the one in charge.

'There's an airfield there?' It's true that she was out of her element and it ate at her that her passenger knew more about their route than she. She had unfortunately assumed that their flight would be business as usual, so she hadn't actually taken the time to study potential stops. Perhaps this is what came from taking on a chartered flight rather than the bigger commercial ones. A mistake which she vowed to not soon repeat.

'A small one, but it's better than flying all the way to Orleans, isn't it? And there is a ship-building school there, so the odds of finding someone who knows what they're doing is rather high.'

'You certainly know an awful lot about airfields here.' Her tone did nothing to hide her increasingly sour mood.

He just looked at her in exasperation. She had a mind to tell him that it was her ship and he was the one that had nearly gotten them all killed. But she held her tongue, sensing that any retort she would make would be futile and she might as well save her breath.

He made a noise that she refused to interpret, turned on his heel, and stalked away. Hermione breathed out a shaky sigh. That had been close. Too close. She had had to hide her fear in front of the crew, but now that there was no one around to witness it, a lone tear slipped down her cheek.

Blois wasn't far and in no time at all her crew was slowly cooling the furnace and preparing for landing in an airfield not far from a large, beautiful river. The city itself cut a picturesque diorama, the towers and spires of castle and church making the hill the city was built upon seem even higher. The airfield, which was surprisingly full of activity, was on the opposite side of the Loire river, the two parts of the city connected by a long bridge. There were several docking areas, two of which were occupied by airships getting ready for their respective voyages. Hermione steered the Thestral to an open one as already a worker was climbing the stairs to the dock to greet them. Her illustrious guest had disappeared once more belowdecks as had his valet, for which she was grateful. He might have known where she could land for repairs, but that had done little to repair her feelings towards him.

'Bonjour!' the workman called out after Hermione finished giving final orders to her crew. 'Le vent vous a—. He paused as he noticed some of the damage above-decks. 'Ah, beh, forcement, non. Qu'est-ce qui est arrivé?'

Hermione was grateful she had a rudimentary knowledge of French, enough to know that the man asked what had happened, having quickly assessed that it was not wind damage. She explained as best as she could. But when she asked about how long repairs would take, the man only shrugged.

'On va voir. Je parle avec le patron, hein?'

'What did he say?' Lavender whispered, who had just rejoined Hermione.

'Said he doesn't know how long repairs will take. That he needs to speak to his boss.' She did her best to not roll her eyes. 'No matter. Our guest will be footing the bill.'

She called the crew to assemble on deck and waited patiently for their arrival.

'We'll be here likely two or three days. I'll give you all an advance for pocket money, but I expect all of you here by nightfall and hopefully I'll know more by then. In the meantime, go, enjoy the city!'

Some were more glad than others to see someplace new, but all accepted their pay and left, leaving Hermione and Lavender to retire to the captain's cabin to replan their route.

'What's he like?' Lavender asked once they were behind closed doors.

'Other than a former pirate and impossibly arrogant?' Hermione scoffed in reply. 'I wouldn't know. And, quite frankly, I don't really want to know.'

'Did he really try to take the wheel from you?'

'He didn't even ask me to step aside. He simply reached over me, which I found incredibly rude! Not to mention inappropriate.'

'I'm not sure pirates have the same level of propriety as you,' the copilot replied, smile tugging at her lips. 'I don't know. Some mysterious man crowding you against the wheel couldn't have been that unpleasant.'

'Lavender!' Hermione eyes were wide, though she was clearly holding back a laugh at her friend's excitement over such a thing. 'Do I need to tell Ronald that he needs to keep a better eye on you?' Obviously she was kidding — all woman ever did was talk about him. He was back in London minding their two children.

'I wouldn't like it at all. But for you, well, it's about time that something exciting happened to you!'

'I don't need a man around for my life to be exciting.'

'Well, that's likely true. But think of it, Hermione! Being accosted by a former pirate! It would make for a good story for later.'

'No thank you. Though, I suppose…' Here her voice drifted off as she became lost in thought, calculating the loss of time, the expense of repairs, the extra pay for her crew — she needed to confront her guest. She could consider other things later.

'What? What is it?' exclaimed Lavender, clearly hoping for some juicy anecdote.

'Our guest is going to have to pay extra,' announced Hermione, a look of profound irritation on her face.

'Is that all?!'

Hermione brushed past her, heading out the door to settle the matter. 'Go have a good time, Lavender. I'll deal with the matter myself,' she called over her shoulder, not waiting for a reply.

She exited her quarters and walked down the narrow hallway and rapped soundly on her guest's door. The valet answered.

'Captain to see you, sir,' he announced over his shoulder.

'Show her in then,' Hermione overheard. The valet stepped to the side and she entered the room. It was surprisingly dark, the curtains closed and only a single gas lamp lit. Her eyes needed a few moments to adjust to the gloom.

'Is there something wrong with the curtains?' she politely inquired.

'I have a migraine,' came the surly reply from the vicinity of the bed.

'I'm afraid I've only come to make it worse. The journey is about to become more expensive.'

A loud sigh left his mouth. 'My valet will handle it. Was there anything else you needed or can I get on with my headache?'

'Well, I did have something to say about your earlier behaviour, sir. I might wear trousers, but that doesn't excuse you from following the laws of propriety.

The man snorted. "Propriety indeed. From a woman who shows the very shape of her figure.'

'You can hardly expect me to run an airship in those ridiculous skirts.' He perhaps was unaware, but the rules of feminine dress was a sore point for her. Exceptionally so.

'I believe that's why usually women are the passengers, not the captain.'

'I excelled at flight school and earned my post just like any other,' she hissed.

'Which is why you steered us directly into the path of pirates.'

'Who apparently were looking for you!' She accidentally shouted then and felt rather guilty about it. 'Sorry,' she whispered. 'Come to my cabin this evening if you're feeling better. We shall discuss matters then.'

She didn't wait for a reply, simply showed herself to the door and closed it behind her as softly as possible. She leaned against the wall outside, her head bumping lightly against the polished boards. She wasn't usually so rude, but the man continually needled her so. Having nothing else to do until evening, she went back to her cabin and, finding it empty, fell into an uneasy slumber.

It was nearly nine in the evening when there was a knock on the door — a crew member asking how long they would be staying. Hermione hardly knew herself, but replied that it would be at least two or three days. She was sat down at her desk and mulled over her charts, considering other potential routes south when Lavender came by next, wanting to tell her about the wonderful shops she had found in the center of town, but Hermione was hardly in the mood to listen. After about ten minutes, Hermione asked to be excused, feigning a need to go to the loo. Well, she did, but that wasn't the only thing wrong at the moment.

Was that infernal man ever going to come by? Lavender had mercifully left by the time she's returned to her cabin, so she laid on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Ten o'clock came and went. Not even so much as a word from his valet to say he wouldn't be coming this evening. At eleven, she was on the verge of changing into her night things when there was another knock on the door. She desperately hoped it wasn't someone other than Snape. She simply could not handle any new problems at present.

She opened the door to find that it was indeed her guest scowling down at her. Well, at least it was the person she was hoping for, moodiness aside. She showed him to the chair on the other side of her desk as she rolled up her charts and sat them to the side.

'How is your head, Mr Snape?' She was the model of politeness now. She would show him just how professional she could be, even after his complete disregard for her.

'Vaguely better.'

'Well if you'd rather we discuss tomorrow instead—?'

'I wouldn't want to be accused of being rude,' he sneered.

It took all that was in her not to roll her eyes. Perhaps he also needed to consult a dictionary in addition to the manners guide. Rude was far too mild a word for him.

'Very well, let us ship the formalities and be direct. The fare for your voyage had not calculated for any delays, nor damage of this degree to the ship. Your contract did stipulate that you would pay any additional fees incurred on your part. I've yet to receive an official estimate from the office here, but I've done a bit of the figures on my own.'

She pushed a slip of paper towards him, each item catalogued along with the average cost: woodwork, docking fees, extra pay for her crew, and so forth. She watched as he read it carefully, his thin lips pressed together so much so that they nearly disappeared altogether.

'You're rather presuming, aren't you?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'As a gentleman, I will, of course, pay my debts. But your lack of belief that I shall is rather apparent.'

'I merely wanted things to be clear between us. I severely dislike ambiguity.'

'You realise that you could have simply spoken to my valet earlier. There was no need for me to come here after all.'

'I am not in the habit of going through someone else when you are the one who chartered this flight.'

'I rather think it's because you wanted to see if I was lying,' he replied, 'if I indeed had a migraine or if I were simply playing games. I assure you, captain, I most certainly do not.'

'I have no desire to disrupt your rest, Mr Snape. We shall speak of this again when I have the bill from the airfield.' She was on the edge of losing her temper once more. What was this man's problem? Why did he feel the need to treat her so disdainfully?

'Well, you've already disrupted it twice now this evening. I don't see how a polite dismissal will suddenly make anything better.'

'Excuse me, sir, but you really are rather impossible.'

'Says the woman wearing trousers and a captain's insignia on her blouse.'

'No, you're not impossible,' she corrected herself. 'You're insulting. I suggest you go back to your cabin, sir, before I lose the ability to be polite in the face of such, such chauvinism.'

'Good to know that you have a vocabulary nearly as big as your sense of self-importance,' he snapped, rising to his feet.

'How dare you!' This man had really gone too far. She advanced on him and had a mind to simply throw him out. Let someone else deal with him. No. No, that wouldn't do at all, she reconsidered. Better to show him who was in charge on this ship. 'Perhaps I should just leave you here in Blois and fly my crew back home. You can find yourself a new captain who will agree to carry your ungrateful self the rest of the way.' She had noted how neither he nor his servant had left the ship since landing.

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her over his hooked nose at her. It was the second time that day that she realised just how much taller he was than she. Not that it intimidated her, no. But any other feeling that was brought to this surface by this reminder was promptly squelched, blotted out and otherwise ignored or at least she attempted to do so.

'You wouldn't dare,' he whispered in his low voice. He seemed the kind of man to murmur threats rather than shout them as even his whispers were laced with venom.

'Oh, but I would,' she growled. 'So either you see fit to change your attitude or you'll be leaving my ship.'

To her astonishment, something like satisfaction played upon his lips just then. Had he just been winding him up for his own perverse amusement?

'So what will it be?' she pressed. Though, not literally. There was still a good two or three inches between them. Unlike earlier, which she was still attempting to forget.

He seemed to be less bothered by rules about touching. He hooked a gloved finger beneath her chin and gave her an appraising look. She was not too immodest to stare him full in the face as he did so.

'Such a brazen young thing,' he murmured. 'If you'll excuse my temper, I will continue with you.'

She remained before him, firm in her stance. 'If you can manage to control yourself, I'll be glad to continue this journey,' she replied.

There was a knock on her door, startling them out of the moment. Immediately the man took a step back as his head turned in the direction of the door.

'Yes, what is it?' Hermione called out, trying not to sound annoyed.

'You'll never believe what…' Lavender began speaking the moment she opened the door. She paused, looked from her captain to their strange passenger, and then apologised. 'I'm so sorry, I'll come back later when you're not busy.'

Hermione held up a hand. 'We were just finishing our discussion and I believe our guest was about to go back to his cabin.' She looked at him, her head cocked to the side. One corner of his lip twitched.

'Indeed. Goodnight, captain. Bring the bill by tomorrow and I will settle it forthwith.' He gave a slight bow to Hermione, then to Lavender, and left the room.

'What was that about?' asked the curious copilot.

'I believe he and I have finally come to an agreement,' Hermione concluded and afterwards refused to say anything about the matter, preferring to listen to her friend's chatter once more about the city and its delights.


It took five days for the ship to be repaired and the crew had begun to grow restless. The voyage was supposed to be a day's journey each direction at most and now it had been stretched to nearly a week. Hermione was relieved when they were able to restart the engine and slowly rise back up into the sky. She had made one small trip into the city during their layover, but as much as she enjoyed seeing new places, she much preferred the heights afforded her by flight, as well as the sun winking at her through the clouds and the wind tugging at her curls.

After her little altercation with Mr Snape, he had been mostly polite, though distant, and she had come to appreciate his valet a bit more, a jovial, but quiet man who seemed to know just as much about flying (and France) as his master. She inquired whether he'd been in his master's employ for some time, but there was a twinkle in his cornflower blue eyes as he chuckled and said it had been for quite some time indeed. She wondered yet again if he also had something to do with that band of pirates. It seemed a rather severe thing to accuse an elderly man of and she would never have said it to his face, but there it was, nonetheless, secreted away in her heart. In either case, the bill had been settled without fanfare and Hermione was glad to put the matter of finances behind her.

There was little trouble by way of weather or air currents apart from the occasional bit of cloud causing mild turbulence — no summer storms or hot winds carrying sand up from the Sahara. It was as if nature itself was quite content to let them sail along in their sojourn over the central mountain range pass by without incident and Hermione was relieved that once more her strange passenger was likewise content to keep to his berth. She told herself again and again how glad she would be to be rid of him at last when they docked once more, never to have to endure his presence again. But late at night, when she was trying to fall asleep, she could feel him crowding her once more at the wheel or staring down at her in the cabin, the only point of contact between them one long finger hooked beneath her chin. She told herself in those moments that she needed no man, that the ship and her crew were all she needed. And yet.


They were an hour out from Nice when the pirates found them again. They had once more hidden in a cloud bank, though these had been even more fewer and far between (which led to a suspicion that they had somehow manufactured the clouds themselves). Unfortunately, this time they were nowhere near a current crossing.

Hermione, having thought that all danger was past, was in her cabin taking a short nap, and another crewman was at the helm, a man by the name of Zabini who was showing great promise as a helmsman despite a lack of formal training. (Rumour was he had some sort of falling out with his wealthy family and thus had been forced to find work.) Zabini kept his cool as he tried to steer the ship further afield in spite of the panic that was breaking out on deck.

Charlie Weasley, one of her old hands and brother-in-law to her first mate, banged on her cabin door. 'Captain, you're needed on deck!'

Hermione woke with a start and sat up at the insistent pounding at her door. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes and ran to answer. What greeted her, besides Charlie's grim face and bright orange hair, was chaos. 'They found us again, Captain.'

Hermione leapt into action, calling out orders, restoring as much calm as possible. She relieved Zabini of his post while thanking him for holding things steady as long as he could and asked him to fetch Mr Snape from his cabin. Minutes later, the tall gentleman appeared even as the pirates began firing flare guns in an attempt to intimidate them. A fire in the air was every crew's greatest fear. She was assumed the pirates only did this due to their lightweight canons being slightly out of range.

'I see we have attracted attention once more. Are you quire sure you told no-one of your flight plan?' His tone was accusing and it did nothing to improve her mood.

'And just what are you suggesting?' she fired back through gritted teeth. 'Do you think I don't know my crew well enough?'

'Perhaps you don't know them as well as you think. And your ego may very well get us killed.'

'Instead of blaming me, why don't you make yourself useful and prepare yourself for an emergency landing. There's no way I can outdistance them and we won't arrive at another current crossing for at least an hour due west.'

She called out then to her first mate, 'Lavender, find us a place to land, we're going down, but we're doing it on our terms.'

'Ay, captain. There's an empty field straight ahead that looks big enough, though we'll have to descend rather quickly if we want to land on flat ground and not the side of a hill.'

'Then that's what we're going to aim for!' Hermione called out more orders and her crew scurried about above and belowdecks. It had been a long time since they had to make such a fast landing and even that might not be enough to shake the pirates. The pirate vessel was indeed gaining on them, but rather than coming up from behind, she could see now that they were going to attempt to attack broadside in spite of the rapid descent of both ships. The captain cursed under her breath as the ship shook. She looked over her shoulder in dread. The pirates had resorted to throwing weighted ropes from their deck in hopes to attach themselves.

'Their ropes!' she screamed. 'Cut the ropes!'

But for every rope that a crew member cut, another one landed on deck and wrapped itself around the railing. Should she have them start destroying the new railing that had just been replaced? Would that even be enough?

Her ship was fast, but the drag of pulling another ship made it nearly grind to a halt even as it sank lower and lower in the sky. Suddenly an idea came to her.

'Ascend!' she shouted and orders were quickly transferred to the engine room. Even if she couldn't go forwards, she should be able to go back up. Maybe. If the ship did't break apart.

'Is this worth killing your entire crew?' snarled her passenger. When had he come up behind her? 'I suggest you raise the flag and just get this over with. Perhaps I can make a deal with them and your crew will be allowed to go free.'

'Can you guarantee it?' Anxiety coloured her voice, much to her dismay.

He nodded and, as it turned out, was true to his word. Almost.


A/N: Stay tuned for Chapter 2, coming soon!