An aging ship must fight to protect her mate during one of the world's greatest disasters.

...

26 AUGUST 1883

Most ships in the Dutch-Indonesian fleet were a special breed. Some appeared civilian, some appeared military. But they all had one thing in common, they were children of the Roman god Vulcan. Born of fire, alive through fire, and sometimes, died in fire. HMDS Krakatoa was no different. She wasn't the largest ship by any means but she was goodly sized in her own right. She was leaning against the dock at her berth in Batavia, the Javanese capital. For weeks she'd been feeling sick, down with nasty bouts of stomach bugs. She knew it was only a matter of time. For 200 years pressure had been building up deep within her island. She'd been doing her best to hold it back but she was only delaying the inevitable. She groaned, forcing back another wave of nausea. If she gave in now, thousands would die. She would hold back until winter if she had to, when the shipping in the busy Sunda Straits was reduced. Another wave came over her, right on the heels of the first. This one was so powerful it forced Krakatoa roll on her side, clutching her stomach. Her teeth were clenched and her breathing was highly erratic.

"No..." She rasped, tilting her head back as she forced back the bile as it rose in her throat. She fought it back for several minutes. "No, you don't!"

Bararoo was a few berths down and looked at the larger ship pityingly. Krakatoa was trying so hard to keep a lid on the forces pressing in on her. Sighing, she left her place at the pier and approached the suffering warship.

"Let it go." She murmured.

Krakatoa, her eyes shut and teeth bared to the gumline managed to hiss "No."

"Let it go, Craya." Bararoo growled.

"No, I can't!"

"HMDS Krakatoa, quit holding back what you cannot control! It's killing you." Bararoo reared up and when she came down she hit the larger ship right in the belly.

Krakatoa squealed, jaws parting momentarily before she clenched them tightly shut once more. The pain was the first thing that hit her. Bararoo's strike was relatively soft but against such a sensitive area, it was as good as a kick to the gut. Nausea came instantly after and Krakatoa put everything she had into forcing it back. This time though, the forces deep within her fought back with a vengeance. Hot liquid bile rose through her throat and into her mouth, filling it quickly. Krakatoa tried but this time she found she could not force it down.

The big ship convulsed, then started vomiting up a storm. Bararoo positioned myself alongside, ignoring the vomit as it floated past and around her. Volcano or not, killer or not, Krakatoa needed her. Bararoo knew her well and having seen how hard she'd fought she knew she'd never do what she did that day if she had the choice. The worst part was, she never did.

Bararoo held Krakatoa's head up, making it easier for her to breathe. She hardly had any time for that as she convulsed repeatedly, unable to stop. Unable to control her own body. Ash clouds blotted out the sun and a relentless gray fall smothered the two of us. Bararoo couldn't see her own bowsprit, let alone the ship she was holding. She could still hear her though, whimpering pitifully in sheer agony in those few moments between vomiting convulsions. Her whole body shook with pain and distress. Bararoo didn't need her sight to detect that.

This went on for several hours and just when the steamer thought things might die down, nature proved her wrong. A tremendous explosion rocked her, the shockwave strong enough to push her against the dock. It was the first of four massive explosions that Krakatoa would suffer. The big ship screamed, her hull seam bursting at the shoulder. Blood poured from the wound, sticky red and viscous. Bararoo didn't try licking it clean. Fresh blood from a volcano ship was a corrosive like no other. Her iron hull stood no chance. Diluted in the water it was okay but still potent in large amounts.

Bararoo remained faithful at her mate's side though, determined not to leave. Less than half an hour later a second explosion tore through Krakatoa. Already exhausted by her previous efforts, Krakatoa could do little more than squeal as both her flanks tore open. She rolled fully on her side, letting the blood coat her exposed port quarter. Bararoo still held her head, ignoring the vomit that quickly stained her hull, the tide of which seemed relentless. With each eruption, Krakatoa got worse and worse and as the blood flowed her ability to cope with the rapid change diminished.

It was still a surprise to Bararoo however when a sound she would never forget boomed in her ears at about 10 that morning. She would later learn it was the loudest sound in recorded history. It was matched only by the scream escaping the ship beside her. Krakatoa's primal cry drowned that of her peak's. It was so loud, Bararoo had to open my jaws to prevent her ear drums bursting. As it was, the steamer would have a ringing bell for a few days afterwards. She fell against her, her convulsions becoming more erratic. Bararoo recognized her symptoms for what they were. She'd gone beyond just a simple eruption. She was in her death throes.

The steamer got a good grip on Krakatoa's head, ignoring the thrashing the rest of her body made. "Krakatoa, listen to me. Listen to me!" She yowled in the other ship's ear. "You give up, I will never forgive you. Don't you dare! Don't. You. Dare!" She snarled, punctuating each word. She wanted her message to be crystal clear, beyond even the slightest shadow of a doubt. "Hold onto me, and don't let go." She helped Krakatoa grip her hull and shoved a metallic rod between her teeth for her to bite on. It beat screaming.

She clamped down onto it tightly and her grip echoed her bite. Bararoo could feel her ribs creak in protest under her strength but she held firm. Krakatoa needed her. What was a few broken ribs compared to her agony? Bararoo was aware of tear droplets falling in a steady stream down her hull, removing the ash buildup on her decks. It took her a few seconds to realize they were hers and Krakatoa's. The steamer brushed her bowsprit along Krakatoa's side, ignoring the pain the acidic blood caused on the long pole. "Shh." She whispered. "Just let it out, shhh." What could she say to a dying ship?

Bararoo heard the distinctive crack of the metallic pole in Krakatoa's jaws or maybe that was her ribs as the final explosion sounded. The massive island in the distance disappeared behind a wall of water, thrown up as it collapsed into the sea. She felt Krakatoa curl around her and she was unable to hide her hiss of pain this time as her mate's acidic blood came in contact with her hull. There was no time for apologies though as the wave slammed into their dock. Krakatoa, with her super strength, could resist being swept away and she kept Bararoo firmly against her hull, protecting the steamer from the same fate.

They must've had nearly half a dozen waves hit that day. At one point a piece of coral got through Krakatoa's defenses, striking Bararoo on the head. The steamer fell unconscious. When she woke, it was at least several days after the eruption. Her hull had suffered 3rd degree burns over 80% of its mass. In most places it was corroded down to the bone. Her broken ribs had bent inward under the impact with the tsunami and one had slightly punctured her lung. She was mortally wounded but was determined to hang on for her friend. Krakatoa lay beside her in a steaming wreck. Her eyes were open but glassy and her breathing nonexistent. Her lips were curled in the last snarl of life. But Death as Bararoo knew it was not the same for Krakatoa. She would wake again, Bararoo just had to wait and be patient.

It was another day before her eyes opened. When they did, Bararoo was unable to stifle the gasp that escaped me. Those beautiful amber orbs she'd come to love were now clouded and dark. She knew without asking that the larger ship gone at least partially deaf as well. She could hear Bararoo if the steamer yelled but otherwise she would just sounded muffled. "B-Bararoo?" Krakatoa shivered.

Weakened by her own injuries, all Bararoo could manage was a deep purr and Krakatoa touched her nose to her mate's scarring shoulder. She smelled Bararoo's presence and the steamer felt her muzzle press itself to her decks. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it." Krakatoa murmured.

"Krakatoa..." Bararoo began.

"I thought for certain you'd be swept away. I thought you'd..."

"Krakataoa!" The steamer growled, finally getting the volcano's attention. "You-you will lose me. You are losing me. My hull, it couldn't withstand the forces put through it. I have a punctured lung among other injuries. I-I'm dying, Craya."

Krakatoa whimpered, a desperate sound if Bararoo'd ever heard one. "Please don't go, please..." She wasn't sure what was more frightening, the tears that flooded her decks or Krakatoa begging.

"I'll live on in the stars." She whispered, trying to reassure her distraught mate. "You may not see or hear me but I'm here. I'll always be here. I promised you didn't I?"

"I didn't think you'd be gone so soon..." Krakatoa whispered.

"Soon for you maybe, but 40 years is a long time for me." Bararoo replied. "I am, after all, only mortal." 40 years by her side as a loyal and faithful mate. Bararoo loved her more than her own existence and she knew that if Krakatoa could, she would would follow her in death. But life, immortality, was the volcano's burden and one she had to shoulder alone. "I would have loved to have spent eternity with you,amoursine."* Bararoo whispered, her voice faltering.

She felt Krakatoa pull her close, being extra gentle as she located the steamer's bow by touch and memory. Bararoo looked deep into those amber orbs, seeing her despair, her agony over losing the ship she was most closest to and knew she couldn't leave without doing one more thing. "Promise me something." She rasped.

"Anything." Krakatoa whimpered.

"Promise me you'll find another."

"Bararoo..."

"Krakatoa, promise me. You're stronger than this. I know you are. There are other schooners in this world, other ships you can choose from. You won't be replacing me, I know that. I just want you to be happy."

Krakatoa choked back a sob. "As long as you are gone from my world, I will never be happy." She cried.

"Try, Craya. For me please try." Bararoo begged her.

"I will, try." She promised. "For you, I will try."

Bararoo snuggled into her, feeling her curl around her in response. "I love you." The volcano whispered.

Bararoo smiled. "I know." She looked up at her, seeing she had her face turned away. "Let me look at you. Let me see you smile."

She whimpered.

"Come on, smile for your old girl." Bararoo nudged her with what strength she had left, which wasn't much.

But it was enough to get her attention. Slowly she turned her face towards Bararoo, meeting her mate's eyes eyes and offering a sweet little smile, one which the steamer returned in full. "You have such a beautiful smile." She whispered. "Don't lose that."

"I won't."

She leaned forward and Bararoo met her halfway. As soon as their lips touched she deepened the kiss, desperate for the last live contact she'd have. Bararoo resisted the urge to close her eyes. She wanted to leave this world with an image of her mate captured and imprinted on her lenses. She would always remember Krakatoa's amber gaze. Alight with the fire of her heart, even blind as it was. A fighter like she always has been. But some battles you just cannot win.

"Jatille**, Craya..."

Her mate's loving face was the last thing Bararop saw before the steamer's vision turned black and she saw no more. She remembered feeling the thud of her hull against Krakatoa's and realizing she had fallen forward. She felt her mate's bow come down on her decks, and she felt her tears rain down. "Don't cry..." She tried to comfort her but that's when everything ceased alltogether and Bararoo became one with the stars.

Krakatoa felt her mate still beside her. She held her mate close and tight, gently closing her lifeless eyes. Krakatoa's whimpers grew louder and louder, changing, altering into deeper more pronounced growls that vibrated her hull bow to stern. Then, in similar fashion to a few days earlier, the volcano tipped her head back and roared her anguish to the heavens!

...

* Shiptongue word for lover or mate. It has a deep spiritual meaning attached which may have something to do with the bonds mated ships share.

** The word for "goodbye" or "farewell" in the Ancient Tongues of the Vulcan Forges. Only volcano ships or one who is mated to a volcano ship knows this language. It is rarely spoken out loud and is usually only done so during rituals and ceremonies.