The Horizon Talon floated steadily on the morning tide, its patched sails stirring gently in the crisp breeze. The rising sun cast a golden glow over the calm sea, its reflection rippling like molten gold across the water. On the dock, the remnants of the previous night’s battle smoldered. Broken barricades, scorched beams, and scattered debris were the only evidence of the desperate defense.

  Aboard the Talon, the mood was quiet but focused. An efficient rhythm replaced the night's chaos, and the crew had worked throughout the night. Every corner of the ship bustled with activity. Sailors tightened knots in the freshly patched rigging, Marines sharpened blades against whetstones, and the crew lashed barrels of supplies securely below deck as they thudded into place.

  At the helm, Lt. Kade stood beside the helmsmen and navigator with arms crossed, her gaze taking in the ship. The salty breeze ruffled her dark hair, but her expression remained composed, her posture unyielding. She exuded calm authority, the eye of the storm, even as frustration simmered deep in her chest.

  "Ma’am, sail’s patched and rigging secured," Quartermaster Cole called as he climbed the stairs to the aftcastle, his burly frame moving with surprising agility. "Rudder chain’s holding steady for now, but I wouldn’t call it pretty. We’ll have to work on it again at sea."

  "Will it get us underway?" Kade asked.

  "It’ll do," Cole replied. "Crew’s done good work. We’ll be ready to shove off at your word."

  "Good," Kade replied.

  The Widow’s Grin was out there, and every minute wasted brought Naomi closer to whatever goal she was chasing. Kade would see her brought to justice and to the bottom of the ocean. But first, they had to be ready.

  Below on the main deck, Gunnery Sergeant Briggs barked orders to a cluster of dock defenders who were adjusting to life aboard the ship. The defenders, seasoned sailors, moved efficiently, stowing weapons and finding their places among the Marines and navy personnel. One man laughed as he tied a stubborn knot, drawing a grin from his companions. Despite the tension, the crew’s camaraderie shone through in moments like these.

  Sergeant Myers leaned against the mainmast, twirling a knife in his hand. "Looks like we’re ready to give that pirate a bloody nose," he quipped, his roguish grin earning a few chuckles from nearby sailors.

  Briggs turned, fixing Myers with a flat stare. "Myers, quit entertaining the deckhands and get up to the aftcastle. Inspect the dock defenses and make sure we’re not leaving anything behind. Gear, people, anything useful. We don’t have time for mistakes."

  Myers straightened, slipping the knife into a sheath with a theatrical flourish. "So I’m the Talon’s one-man search party now? You know, Gunny, this feels personal."

  "It’s about competence," Briggs shot back without missing a beat. "If we left it to anyone else, I’d have to do it over myself."

  Myers laughed. "Flattery like that will go straight to my head. Don’t worry, Gunny, I’ll spot anything worth taking or shooting at."

  "Just do your job," Briggs replied, shaking his head as Myers strolled toward the ladder leading to the aftcastle.

  As Myers moved to check the docks, Kade caught the flicker of sharpness in his gaze. Beneath the lighthearted jabs, Myers was all business when it counted. She made a mental note to check in with him once they were underway. His ability to spot trouble had already proven invaluable.

  Kade’s sharp eyes picked out small human moments amidst the hustle. A sailor brewed coffee on a small, battered stove, the aroma cutting through the morning chill. Two Marines sat together on the deck, one meticulously cleaning a crossbow while the other mended a torn glove. One of the younger defenders made a quiet gesture of prayer, touching a charm hung from his neck before returning to his task.

  "Lieutenant," an officer called from the main deck. "All stations report ready. Just waiting for your order."

  Kade called down to the main deck, her voice cutting through the everyday crew conversations. "Cole, take final inventory. Lawson, ensure the Marines are squared away. Bishop, don't push yourself too hard. Our medic turned cleric may have done a fantastic job getting you back on your feet, but I want to make sure you don't overdo it."

  Bishop, seated on a crate with a medic nearby, nodded, though his pale complexion betrayed his lingering fatigue. The faint glow of the healing magic had closed his worst wounds during the night, but his movements were stiff, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. Despite the cleric’s efforts, he clearly wasn’t back to full strength.

  "I’ll manage," Bishop said, his voice steadier than his appearance. "I’m not sitting this out, ma’am. Just tell me where you need me."

  Kade met his gaze, noting the determination in his eyes despite the strain on his face.

  "Understood," she said firmly. "But conserve your strength, Lieutenant. We’ll need your input at sea more than we need you pushing yourself now."

  Kade moved to the helm as the crew snapped into their last tasks. The energy aboard the ship shifted subtly, a collective readiness settling over them. She felt it, too. The moment when preparation became action.

  "Cast off!" she called.

  The Talon came alive. Sailors pulled lines, unfurled sails, and smoothly the ship moved away from the dock. The wind caught the patched sails, filling them with a steady, determined pull. Kade gripped the helm, her gaze fixed on the horizon as the ship’s wake foamed behind them.

  They were underway. The Widow’s Grin wouldn’t escape this time.

  The Horizon Talon glided away from the dock, the water’s calm surface rippling softly under its hull. Behind them, the rising sun silhouetted the smoldering ruins of New Port’s defenses. The golden light spread over the sea like molten glass, a bittersweet contrast to the scorched earth and shattered barricades fading in the distance.

  On deck, the crew moved efficiently, securing lines, adjusting sails, and stowing gear. The patched canvas above them strained lightly in the morning breeze, a fragile but functional testament to their overnight work. The dock defenders, now passengers aboard the Talon, leaned on the rails, their faces etched with exhaustion and relief. Some stared back at the shrinking fortifications, their expressions grim. Others turned toward the horizon, their shoulders relaxing for the first time in days.

  Lt. Kade stood near the aftcastle, one hand resting on her hip. The other gripped her cutlass, a habitual gesture she wasn’t yet ready to abandon. Her gaze surveyed the deck, lingering on familiar faces and new ones alike. Briggs stood near the mainmast, his posture rigid as he stared back at New Port, his jaw set in a hard line. Lawson moved through the Marines, his quiet words of reassurance punctuated by firm pats on shoulders.

  One of the younger defenders caught Kade’s eye. He sat cross-legged near a coil of rope, holding a tattered picture. It was small, no larger than his palm, and he ran a thumb across its cracked surface as though the motion alone would bring the smiling faces beneath it to life. His eyes, wide and uncertain, darting between the distant fortifications and the surrounding Marines. Fear was there but also hope, fragile and flickering like a flame struggling against the wind.

  The moment passed as a familiar voice cut through the quiet. "Hell of a morning, isn’t it, ma’am?"

  Kade turned to see Sergeant Myers approaching from where he had been standing to survey the docks, his affable grin intact, despite the dark circles under his eyes.

  "Not every day you leave behind a burning wreck and call it progress," he added, leaning casually against the railing beside her.

  "Careful, Sergeant," Kade replied, her tone dry. "Someone might think you’re enjoying yourself."

  "Not entirely untrue," Myers said. "You brought my men along, though, so I owe you for that. Didn’t think anyone’d make it out of there alive, let alone onto a ship with patched sails and a crew that knows what they’re doing."

  Kade arched an eyebrow. "Is that gratitude I hear, Sergeant Myers? Did I miss something catastrophic that caused you to lose your sarcasm? Should we call the medic?"

  "Maybe I’m just turning over a new leaf," Myers said.

  "Or maybe it’s the new class." He continued, a glint of genuine pride breaking through his usual humor. "Turns out last night did me a favor. Got a swashbuckler subclass. Didn’t know the Simulation had a sense of humor."

  Kade’s lips twitched in a faint smile. "A swashbuckler, huh? Seems appropriate. Reckless, overconfident, and entirely too fond of your own voice."

  "Don’t forget devastatingly handsome," Myers added with a wink.

  "It suits you. We’ll take every advantage we can get," Kade said. "I'll admit when Captain Voss and I first met you, I thought maybe circumstances had broken you. Glad to see you're coming back out of your shell."

  "Redemption hard-earned, though," Myers said, his grin fading slightly as he glanced back at the shrinking dock. "Not everyone made it out to see theirs. But, hey, silver linings."

  "Silver linings," Kade echoed quietly, though her thoughts lingered on the cost.

  Greetings, Players! Congratulations on making it through the sixth planetary cycle of the Simulation reboot. You will be happy to know that the level zero protocols are working as intended and the global player population is adjusting toward the accepted upper limits of the Simulation. Previous player population: 1,121,915,833 Human. Current player population: 1,003,654,102 Human. No player data for additional player species is available.

  The silence that followed was heavy, as it always was. Kade’s grip tightened on the railing. How low would the number go before it stopped? How many more lives would be erased before they reached stability? If stability even existed?

  Her thoughts caught on the last phrase. No other species detected. It was a routine observation, but one she couldn’t quite shake. What other species had there been? If so, why had they vanished? And was humanity destined to follow them or to outlast whatever calamity had erased them?

  "What’s on your mind, ma’am?" Myers asked, his tone uncharacteristically subdued.

  Kade hesitated for a moment before speaking. "That update. No other species detected. Makes me wonder what used to be here before humanity. And whether they’re really gone or just waiting to come back."

  Myers paused for a moment, considering her words. "If they’re coming back, let’s hope they’re friendly. We’ve got enough problems with the unfriendly ones already."

  Kade huffed a faint laugh, though the weight in her chest didn’t lift. "True enough, Sergeant."

  Below, the crew began moving again, the spell of the update broken. Someone started humming a sea shanty, the quiet tune picked up by another voice, then another, until it wove through the bustle of work. Kade listened for a moment, letting the sound fill the silence left by her thoughts.

  The vast expanse of water now obscured the fortifications, and the dock was reduced to a speck on the horizon. Kade turned her gaze forward, the morning light catching on the Talon’s patched sails. They weren’t perfect, but they would hold. For now, that was enough.

  The morning sun continued to rise higher, casting its golden light across the calm waves. A light breeze whispered through the rigging, carrying the faint creak of wood and the occasional murmur of voices from the crew below. The deck was quieter now, a pocket of calm after the storm.

  Kade turned to lean back against the railing near the helm, her eyes taking in the sunrise but her mind turning over the many questions that lay ahead. Myers had moved nearby and was perched casually on a crate, he'd started twirling a small knife between his fingers in that way of his that looked careless but wasn’t as she had seen him do earlier. He caught her watching and grinned.

  "Still thinking about what’s waiting for us?" he asked.

  "Always," Kade replied evenly. "Trouble has a habit of being patient."

  Before Myers could retort, footsteps approached. Kade turned to see Lt. Bishop and Lawson climbing up toward the helm. Bishop moved with deliberate care, favoring his side even as he tried to appear steady. Lawson stayed close, his presence quiet but supportive.

  "Lieutenant," Lawson said. "We were wondering if you wanted to sit down soon and start working out a plan for Block Island Station."

  Myers, never one to miss an opening, cocked an eyebrow. "Block Island, huh? Sounds like the sort of place that doesn’t roll out the welcome mat. What’s so special about it?"

  Bishop answered before Kade could, his voice carrying the enthusiasm of someone who loved their subject. "It’s a fascinating place, really. Geographically unique. Historically important. You couldn’t ask for a better case study in naval strategy."

  Myers smirked. "I didn’t ask for a case study, Professor. But you’ve got my attention."

  Kade gestured for Bishop to continue. She knew him well enough to recognize when he had something worthwhile to share, and she appreciated the way his energy drew people in.

  "Block Island Station," Bishop began, his tone conversational but precise, "isn’t large, but it’s significant. The island’s geography gives it natural defensive advantages. Sheer cliffs along most of the coastline, high ground that dominates the approaches, and only a few places where ships can land safely. The island is like a large donut with a small section on the north missing. Think of it as a circle of land with a giant bay at the center of it."

  "So it’s a fortress, then?" Myers asked.

  "A little," Bishop said. "During the revolution for independence, several naval actions took place around the island. The defenders always had the advantage. The cliffs made it nearly impossible to approach without being seen, and any force trying to storm the heights was, frankly, doomed."

  Lawson frowned thoughtfully. "And now it’s fortified? That’ll make things even worse."

  Bishop nodded. "Exactly. It didn’t stop there. After the war, the island became a neutral trading hub for a time. A place where smugglers, merchants, and even rival factions could exchange goods without too many questions. However, the SMC's fortification of the island in the early 1800s changed that."

  "And now?" Kade asked.

  "Now," Bishop said. "It’s a stronghold. If Naomi’s heading there, she’s counting on those cliffs and fortifications to slow us down. It’s the perfect fallback point. Hard to reach, easy to defend."

  Myers whistled low. "Sounds charming. Bet they’ve got great room service."

  Kade gave him a look, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "If Naomi’s going there, she must know something we don't. If that is the SMC's fallback position, then she will not simply walk in and take what she wants while holding an SMC Captain hostage. She won’t have planned to stay long. Just enough to grab whatever she is after and scoot."

  "That's the part that confuses me. She's shown herself to be risk averse so far. Walking into an SMC stronghold is the opposite of that." Bishop said.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "That's what makes me think she knows something we don't. Right now, we're assuming Block Island Station is on our side. That could prove to be a mistake."

  Lawson grimaced before replying. "Then we need to be ready to hit hard and fast. Once we’re in range, we can’t give her the luxury of time."

  Kade pushed off the railing, gesturing to Lawson and Bishop to gather closer. "We’ll start here," she said, her voice steady. "No need to shuffle below when we’ve got a clear view and fresh air."

  Bishop eased himself onto the same crate Myers was sitting on, the lingering tightness in his movements betraying his still-healing wounds. Myers shifted to the side to give Bishop more room on the crate before going back to idly spinning his knife in his fingers, but clearly listening.

  "Block Island Station," Kade began. "We know Naomi’s headed there, but what we don’t know is what she’ll find, or what we’ll find when we get there."

  "Exactly," Bishop said. "We're assuming the SMC fortified the island since it designated it as the primary fallback position for all SMC assets in the region, but we don’t know if it’s still operational. If the stronghold is active and loyal to the SMC, Naomi will not walk in unchallenged. She’ll have to explain herself, maybe negotiate her way in."

  "And if it’s abandoned?" Lawson asked, his expression darkening.

  "Then we’ve got a fresh problem," Kade replied. "She could slip into the fortifications and set up a defense before we get there. Even with minimal resources, those cliffs give her an enormous advantage."

  "Or," Myers cut in, "it’s not abandoned, and the people holding it aren’t exactly thrilled to see either of us."

  "Historically, Block Island’s been many things. A fortress, a neutral port, a smuggler’s haven. If it’s fallen into hostile hands, we might find ourselves fighting two battles. One against Naomi and one against whoever’s holed up there." Bishop replied, giving validity to Myer's quip.

  "Which changes the approach," Lawson said. "If it’s an active SMC stronghold, we can hang back and let them box Naomi in. Come up behind her and trap her between two forces. But if it’s abandoned or hostile, we’ll need to hit hard."

  Kade ran a hand through her hair, considering their options. The uncertainty gnawed at her. So far, Naomi always seemed to have an edge, slipping away while the Talon’s crew was left guessing. This time had to be different.

  "Bishop, tell us more about the geography," she said finally, looking at him for specifics. "What’s our best guess if we have to make landfall?"

  "The cliffs are sheer along most of the coast," Bishop said, sitting up straighter. "Natural defenses. There are only a few landing points. Narrow beaches that funnel any attackers into tight spaces. It’s why the defenders always had the advantage during the revolution. Even a small force could hold against a much larger one."

  "And if she’s there first?" Lawson asked.

  "She’ll fortify those bottlenecks," Bishop replied. "Turn the island into a death trap."

  "Sounds fun," Myers said, flipping his knife once more before sheathing it. "Guess that’s why you keep me around, huh, ma’am? Finding ways through death traps is sort of my thing."

  "If it comes to that, you’ll get your chance to put those new class skills to use," replied Kade.

  Kade unfurled the navigational map across the tops of two crates, the paper flattening under the weight of small iron tools she’d grabbed to hold it down. The sea breeze teased at the edges, rustling faintly. The officers gathered close, the map now the center of their attention, its worn edges and detailed markings telling the story of countless voyages before this one.

  "The coordinates Naomi’s heading for put us here," Kade said, tapping a spot on the island's north side. "This is the main bay, more than large enough for a ship her size. The station is in the northwest corner of the bay, right about here."

  Bishop nodded, pointing to a stretch of jagged coastline. "That’s where the cliffs are. Sheer rock faces on all sides, and only a couple of small beach landings. They’re chokepoints perfect for defense and just as perfect for a trap."

  "We can’t sail straight in. If Naomi’s crew is setting up an ambush, those beaches will turn into slaughterhouses," Briggs said.

  "Agreed," Kade replied. "But we can avoid a direct assault. Here’s the idea. We approach from the north and enter the bay here. Then we skirt the eastern edge, moving clockwise. It’s not perfect stealth, but it’ll make us harder to pin down than coming straight through the center."

  Lawson frowned, studying the map. "And once we’re at the station?"

  "That depends on what we find," Kade admitted. "As discussed, we don’t know if the station is active, abandoned, or in hostile hands. If it’s an SMC stronghold, they might hold Naomi in place for us. But things get a lot more complicated if it’s abandoned or hostile."

  "We’ll assume the worst," Briggs said firmly. "If it’s hostile, we’ll need to take control fast. If it’s empty, we can’t let Naomi settle in."

  "Exactly," Kade said. "Now, as for infiltration…" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver band, holding it up between her fingers. "I’ve got this. It’s a seafarer’s ring. It lets me breathe underwater. I’ll use it to lead a small team in from below."

  Briggs grunted, "Five of the Marines have similar items. Got them during that quest with the drowned. We can put together an underwater strike team."

  Kade nodded. "That gives us options. I’ll take a five-person team underwater and get eyes on the situation. Lawson, you, Briggs, and Myers will lead the land-based team. Once we know exactly what we’re up against, we’ll adjust deployments if needed."

  "Bishop stays on the Talon," Kade said, glancing at him. "You’ll provide cannon support, right?"

  Bishop gave a tired but steady nod. "Absolutely. We will position the ship to cover both teams if things go sideways."

  "Good thing the Marines have been practicing their synchronized swimming routines. Real crowd-pleaser back in the day." Briggs said.

  "We’ll save the choreography for after the mission, Briggs. Focus on keeping them alive first." Lawson responded.

  The humor faded quickly, but left a lingering sense of unity. Myers spoke up, his tone unusually thoughtful. "And the fallback plan? What if this all goes to hell?"

  "The priority is the captain. If we have to lose the station or let Naomi go, we’ll do it. Voss comes first." Kade said.

  The weight of her words settled over the group, the unspoken understanding clear. This mission wasn’t about glory or territorial gains. It was about getting their captain back, no matter the cost.

  "Right," Lawson said. "Then we prepare to improvise."

  "Story of my life," Myers said.

  The air on the aftcastle shifted subtly as Quartermaster Cole approached, his heavy boots thudding softly against the deck. He carried his usual air of brisk efficiency, tempered by a jolly disposition that seemed out-of-place amid the tension. The officers turned toward him as he neared, the natural conclusion of their strategy meeting settling over the group.

  Kade rolled up the map with deliberate care, tucking it under one arm. Her sharp gaze flicked between the officers, noting their readiness to move on. This was her moment to pivot.

  "Well, I think that’s enough war planning for now," Kade said, her tone even but light enough to ease the edges of the tension. "Let’s talk about something a little less… life and death." She paused, tapping the rolled map lightly against the crate. "Loot."

  The dead weren't even cold, but if she didn't address this now, morale would rot like an open wound.

  The word hung in the air for a beat, drawing a range of reactions. Briggs folded his arms, his brow furrowing slightly. Lawson raised an eyebrow, looking curious but cautious. Cole, for his part, said nothing, simply standing to the side as though ready to observe. Myers, of course, didn’t let the opportunity pass.

  "Finally!" he exclaimed, grinning widely. "I was beginning to think this ship wasn’t carrying any gold at all. What’s the point of saving the world if we’re not getting rich doing it?"

  Briggs gave him a sidelong glance. "If you want gold, Myers, maybe you should’ve joined the navy. They’re big on paying people to sit around."

  "That so, Gunny?" Myers shot back, his grin unfazed. "And here I thought the Marines were just hoping the rest of us would pick up the tab when we hit port."

  Kade held up a hand, cutting off the brewing banter before it could go further. "Save it, gentlemen. The point is, there’s been some talk from the sailors. They’re not thrilled about how loot’s being distributed. Particularly weapons, armor, and other items from the Simulation. Word is, they feel the away teams are getting all the chances while they’re stuck patching sails and scrubbing decks."

  Lawson’s expression shifted to a more serious cast. "That’s not an unreasonable complaint. If they think they’re being sidelined, it’s going to hit morale."

  "And morale," Kade said, her tone sharpening just enough, "is something we can’t afford to lose."

  Briggs grunted but didn’t argue, his silence a tacit agreement.

  Kade set the map aside and placed her hands on the crate, leaning in slightly as she addressed the group. "So, we solve it. Right now. If anyone has ideas, let’s hear them."

  "First pick goes to the away team," Briggs said firmly. "They’re the pointy end of the spear. If something goes sideways, they’re the ones standing in the middle of it, not the sailors."

  Bishop nodded but countered, "True, but the away team already benefits from more quests, experience, and gold. The quests have been generous to those on the front lines. Meanwhile, the sailors are literally keeping this ship afloat and they’re feeling left out."

  "They’ve got a critical role. No one’s arguing that," Briggs shot back, "but I’d like to see morale hold steady when you’re staring down a monster twice your size with nothing but an axe."

  Myers snorted. "Morale’s about getting a piece of the action, Gunny. Sure, not dying matters, but that’s the base expectation. If you’re busting your back keeping this ship afloat or protected, you want something to show for it."

  Briggs turned to Myers, his face stony but his tone laced with dark humor. "Then I guess we’ll start awarding the best gear to whoever’s alive to claim it. Nothing boosts morale, like outlasting the competition."

  The group chuckled, a moment of levity that cut through the tension. Even Kade gave a small chuckle before bringing the conversation back on topic. "We’re not starting a graveyard raffle, Briggs. Keep thinking."

  Cole cleared his throat. "If I might, there’s a system we could adapt. It’s not perfect, but it worked for privateers back in the day."

  "You're referring to a prize money system?" Bishop replied.

  "Close enough," Cole said. "All loot and gold would go directly to the ship. That’s the first step. Once it’s in the ship’s stores, we calculate shares for the crew. It’s proportional. The Marines get bigger shares because of the risks they take, but everyone gets something."

  "Everyone gets something," Briggs repeated skeptically. "Even if they did nothing to earn it?"

  "Even if they didn’t swing an axe. Though I'd argue keeping this ship running fits the definition of earning it," Cole said firmly. "Think of it as keeping the crew invested. But there’s more. Gear isn’t just handed out anymore. Instead, the crew uses their shares to buy the loot they want or need from the ship’s stores. It keeps things fair and puts gold back into the ship for repairs, upgrades, and anything else we might need. Gold may be worthless right now, but the Simulation doesn't hand it out for giggles. It will soon become the universal currency, you'll see."

  "What about quest items?" Lawson asked.

  "Those are assigned directly by the Simulation," Cole replied. "They’re not up for grabs. But anything else found along the way, that’s up to the crew to buy back."

  "It’s not a bad idea," Bishop said. "We’ve already been doing something similar, but this formalizes it. Stops us from bleeding supplies dry just to keep everyone happy."

  Myers grinned, his humor cutting through the seriousness. "So now we’re charging people to survive the apocalypse? What’s next, a membership fee for the life rafts?"

  Briggs gave him a flat look. "Don’t worry. You’re first on the list if we run out of spots."

  Kade let the laughter die down naturally before chiming in. "It’s a start. We’ll need to refine it and figure out how to manage shares and make sure the system doesn’t collapse under its own weight."

  Cole nodded. "Typically, the captain awards each crewmember shares of whatever they brought in. So it's a self-sustaining system."

  "I guess the obvious question is, does everyone get an equal share, or does role weight it?" Lawson asked.

  "Generally, prize money was weighted. So, a regular crew member got one share, and combat teams received two shares if they took part in combat. Otherwise, they were considered a regular crew member for that pool of prize money. Officers received three shares and the Captain four shares." Bishop said, picking up the conversation from Cole.

  "Yes, this could work. I want to think that at the discretion of the Captain and officers, we could add bonus shares to those who were key contributors or wounded," Lawson said.

  "Well, wait. Let's talk about extra shares for being wounded. We have healers now who can heal up almost everything. Let's qualify wounded as someone our clerics can't readily heal," Briggs said. "Boy, there is a sentence I thought I'd never say… clerics and healing spells. Strange new world."

  "I agree with all of this," Kade said. "The only question is, how do we value the items we find? We're paying out shares in gold, and then the crew needs to buy back the items they want. Mr. Cole, I'm assuming, as quartermaster, you'll handle that exchange?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. I'll need a little more room if we bring in a lot of items. As for valuation of the items, that part is simple. I received an appraisal skill as part of my class."

  "Alright then, this ship isn't a democracy, but the Captain is unavailable, and this is something that we need to solve now as we brought back quite a haul from Newport. Skornik was generous. To that end, speak now or forever hold your peace," Kade said.

  After waiting a few moments, it was clear that no one would object to the proposed system. Should the Captain have a different opinion? He could change things when he was back in command, Kade thought.

  "Then, until the Captain is back, I'm going to declare this the system from now on," Kade responded. "Now, let's look at what we brought back."

  Greatsword of the Tyrant

  Quality: Rare

  Enchantments: Rending Cleave, Intimidation

  Description: A massive, viciously serrated blade designed to tear through armor and flesh alike. It exudes an aura of dominance, intimidating foes with its brutal design and relentless hunger for battle. When the wielder lands a critical strike, Rending Cleave tears into the target, significantly increasing damage. If the target is of equal size or smaller than the wielder and severely weakened, the attack will slice through the body of the target. This would remove any struck body part entirely in the case of extremities. Blows to the chest area would split the foe in two. Intimidation grants the wielder an increase in their intimidation skill.

  "That is a nasty piece of work," Cole said, taking the weapon into his hands. "It has a value of one thousand gold, and I get a recommended buy price of one hundred and fifty gold."

  It took Kade a moment to understand what Cole was telling them. Despite the weapon's higher value, the recommendation was that a merchant should only buy it at one hundred fifty. That's an eighty-five percent decrease in value. Kade wondered if everyone was going to subscribe to this system as recommended. Only time would tell, she concluded, and honestly, it was outside of her expertise.

  "If I understand you, we will put a value of one hundred and fifty into the prize pool, but if someone wanted to buy this weapon from the ship's store, it would cost them one thousand?" Lawson asked.

  "Yes, Sir. It's how the loot system would stay solvent. Otherwise, we'd be giving out more gold than we were taking in, as much of it would be tied up in assets like this sword at any given moment," Cole responded.

  "Feels steep, but I suppose it makes sense," Briggs added.

  "We can always adjust the numbers if we feel they're off. I wouldn't recommend doing it right away, though. Let's see how things play out first," Bishop said.

  "Agreed," Kade said, putting an end to the discussion. "Here's a question, though. Who gets the first option to buy it?"

  "Under the prize system that we're basing this off of, it would go by the number of shares paid out per person and then seniority," Cole said.

  "Alright, that's fine for the moment. Mr. Cole, that is on you to own," Kade said. "Bring up our next item."

  Bracelet of the Ironclad

  Quality: Common

  Enchantments: Iron Bastion

  Description: A dark, iron-like metal, incredibly dense to the touch, forms these bracers. Runes of protection and fortitude etched on the surface give the bracers an imposing, ancient look, suggesting a warrior who would never yield forged them.

  Iron bastion passively reduces all incoming damage by a small amount, providing the wearer with consistent resilience in battle. Their protective magic makes the wearer more resistant to being staggered or knocked down.

  "This is a marvellous piece and quite affordable, with it being only common quality," Cole remarked, "One hundred and twenty-five gold value. Making it a twenty-two-and-a-half gold prize value. I recommend rounding fractions up."

  "Oh, I can see many people looking to get their hands on that," Briggs replied.

  Kade didn't have to ask, but she could see in Brigg's eyes that he was the one who would make a play to add that item to their collection. She'd briefly thought about buying it out, but it would be better served by the Marine. She'd definitely need to get better armor, but for the moment, it was more important that the Marines have it.

  "Most of the rest of the gear is just standard weapons," Kade said. "However, it looks like the treasure chest had a pair of magical boots."

  Boots of the Gale Rider

  Quality: Uncommon

  Enchantments: Gale Rush

  Description: Crafted from lightweight, wind-touched leather, these boots shimmer faintly with a silvery hue. Flowing, swirling patterns resembling wind gusts decorate the edges, giving the boots an ethereal, dynamic appearance.

  The boots passively enhance the wearer's dexterity by one, improving their agility in all situations. The wearer can activate the boots to gain a quick burst of movement speed, allowing them to dodge incoming attacks or close the distance to an enemy with remarkable swiftness.

  "Well, look at those. They are a good-looking pair of boots. Steel toe at that!" Cole said as he admired the boots. "Value at six hundred gold, with a prize share value of ninety-seven and a half. We're going to round that up to one hundred."

  Cole pulled out a leather-bound notebook and started taking a complete inventory of everything they had looted from the administration building. Kade almost made a comment as Cole stuck his tongue out, clearly trying to tally the numbers in his head. The absurdity is that one inconvenience of the cataclysm was a lack of calculators.

  "Each share will be worth fifty gold," Cole declared. "While it feels small, we have almost three hundred people on this ship. Lieutenant Kade, I factored you at four shares since you are acting captain at the moment."

  "I appreciate that, Mr. Cole, but I'll be taking standard officers' shares," Kade replied. "Though I will take the first right of refusal on those boots and be purchasing them."

  With a nod, Cole handed over the boots. Kade sat down on a nearby crate to swap out her boots. As she stood, the leather soles of her newly gained footwear creaked slightly as she shifted her weight. The boots felt sturdy yet light and flexible at the same time. She let the faint satisfaction settle for a moment before addressing the group.

  "That settles it," she said. "We’ve got a framework. Mister Cole, you’ll handle distributing the shares to the crew. Ensure they understand the system's rules and how it works."

  "Aye, ma’am. I’ll make sure they know they’re getting their due and how to spend it wisely." Cole replied.

  Briggs gave a curt nod. "I’ll brief the Marines separately." They’ll need to know the priorities for away missions."

  She glanced around the group. "You’ve all done good work," Kade said. "To say that it has been a rough week would be an understatement of epic proportions. We've faced monsters, both myth and man. This crew and your leadership have been the only thing preventing everything from falling apart."

  "I don't know why this has happened to the world, but I wish it hadn't happened. However, you play the cards you've been dealt. I thank the universe that the hand I've been dealt includes this ship and crew.

  The officers nodded, the weight of their collective understanding settling over the group. Kade straightened, turning her gaze to the open sea. The sun had climbed higher now, its light catching on the patched sails of the Horizon Talon and casting long shadows across the deck.

  "Now, we've got about two hours until we get to Block Island. Meeting adjourned," she said, stepping away from the crates.

  As the group dispersed, Kade remained by the railing for a moment longer. Her hand brushed against the map still tucked under her arm, its edges curling slightly in the breeze. They had a plan for Block Island Station, and now they had a system to keep the crew unified. But the weight of responsibility lingered. Every decision was another step in the tightrope walk between survival and failure.

  With that, she turned and descended to the main deck, her voice ringing clear as she called out orders to prepare the crew for what lay ahead before turning to retire to her cabin below deck.

  The race to the end of Book One has officially begun.

  Tides of Ruin are fully written and already scheduled to release every Tuesday and Friday. No hiatus, just a steady voyage as the Talon sails ahead.

  you may also want to check out The Grand Crusade. It is another tale set in the Surviving the Simulation universe with a very different cast of characters. The one sentence pitch is simple. What does a paladin become when they get super pissed off with righteous fury?

  if you want to read ahead or dive into background lore that never makes it into the main books, check out Patreon. Both Tides of Ruin and The Grand Crusade have advanced chapters available there, along with exclusive lore that helps bring this universe to life.