There are two endless fountains of strength. Having nothing to lose, and having something worth fighting for.

Mark: "What were you thinking? You could have gotten us both killed. I won't deny that it worked, but it was way too big a risk. What if someone had pulled a blunderbuss, or a grenade launcher? You gave me half a second of warning before you rocked the whole boat with that stunt."

"What are you suggesting? Yes I could be a better teammate. So could you. For starters, check your headset, I think it's muted."

Mark turned his helmet over in his hands and removed a service panel. He flipped a switch and held it next to his ear. He turned back to River sheepishly.

"It was muted."

"Called it. Something else just occurred to me. I have a target on my back, and every pirate west of the Eriwick channel is eyeing the chance to sink a knife into the bullseye. You're from the steel striders. Some less than cultured individuals around here will scoff and make a bad pun about walking over others, but that detail will carry a considerable sum of respect with any of the pirate lords further east. That makes you an immensely valuable ally to me. Whether you like it or not, we're stuck with each other. On that note, mind running me through the steps of retrofitting the marauder into the blueprint?"

"If it'll keep us alive, sure."

After more than six hours, the blue nanite beams of the repair tentacles disappeared. What was once a wooden ship armed with rusty black powder cannons was now a steel battleship with advanced armament and complex subsystems. The holes in the turret betrayed the fact that they ran short of resources, but the mighty war machine was operable.

River: "Well, it certainly looks bigger up close. What's still missing?"

"Shields, The railgun bit of the railgun, about eighty batteries, the auxiliary ion engines, and most of the RTGs. We need to run it the old fashioned way for now. You willing to try your hand at driving a boat? The AI could drive, but it's ripped from a white flayer ship and this isn't exactly a speedboat. 20 m/s is respectable, but not outstanding."

"It's certainly outstanding for a battleship, especially with forty tons of heavy armor and turrets weighing it down. Your standards are too high."

"It has no shields."

"Neither does the- what's the ship called? The Excalibur."

"The Excalibur has redundant weapons and CIWS. We don't have that luxury."

"Oh, right. Yeah fast is good."

"What's it look like on the inside?"

"Well, there's enough volatile stuff in here to level fishbone mountain, and it's actually quite comfortable in and around the bridge. If another raid like that comes out way soon, we might be able to build the electromagnets by hand."

"Are you seriously that crazy?"

"Was there ever any doubt to begin with?"

"Touché. I'm going to go build a shed or something. We need sleep, and you've been toiling away for hours. What good is it if we can defend ourselves if we die of exhaustion?"

"That... is an excellent point."

The sky shimmered with streaks of red, and the sun slipped over the horizon, into the sea. In the distant archipelago of Janwall, within a colossal stronghold, eight figures discussed the recent events in the west.

"A flayer this far south? I thought they always stayed out of the cauldron. When's the last time a flayer ventured this far south of fishbone island?"

"Aye, but obviously they've got' a tad bit more aggressive since we' last met."

"And what of the man who's risking his neck to protect the psychotic zealot? I lost a lot of good men trying to capture the two of them, not to mention a whole marauder."

"Nay, he's a machine. No one could move like that, not in something that heavy. It migh' be one o them ole robot soldiers. Y'know, the ones in the ole legends about the war in the sky."

"Your memory is failing you in your age. Those legends are a load of crap. Perhaps the lightning hoods have cooked up some fancy machine, but it didn't come up from the sea floor below some ancient battlefield."

"We should gather more information to determine its origin. Perhaps we may be able to figure out how it works by hitting it with an electromagnetic pulse? If it stops, it's a robot. If it keeps moving, it's a suit of armor."

"Repeat that technical bit in English, please."

"Stuff a CRAM shell full of EMP pellets and whack it across the forehead. Not literally."

"I'm willing to scramble one of my drake columns to do the job."

"Aye, glad to hear it. Let's not cut corners this time, lads. What can we get there by tomorrow?"

"I can get a scuttlegun there by dawn. Granted, it's an anti air battery, but that never stopped my crew before."

"I have three shrikes in reserve."

"I be willing to risk my flagship for this. I'll oversee the battle from me patchwork."

"Sully, what might you bring to the table, aside from the wild goose chase after that gal o yer dreams?"

Sully waited for the snickering to die down before he spoke.

"Information. I have a few theories about this mysterious 'iron warrior' that ye may find most valuable. But I need more information. If ya can't bring the real deal, bring me an image. There is always some truth in legends, whether ye care to admit so or not."

"What d'ya mean?"

"I mean we may be up against something far more powerful and expansive than we believe. We must take precautions. Arm every hands on all yer ships, then we wait for em to make a move. When they twitch, we grab em by the wrist and drag em under."

"Very well. Fortify our borders, as of now we're preparing for war."

"Aye. Council adjourned."