The infirmary still smelled faintly of antiseptic and boiled salt rags, though someone had tried to air it out. A map on the infirmary wall still showed old-world naval routes. Useless now, but nobody had the heart to take it down.

  The operation at Block Island was hours behind them now, the adrenaline worn off and replaced with the dull ache of survival. Kade paused just inside the threshold, boots silent on the wood decking. Captain Voss lay on the cot farthest from the door, propped up on a wedge of pillows, his skin tight with dehydration and bruises blooming along one cheekbone. He looked like hell, but at least he was upright and alert. Petty Officer Stone sat beside him, her face pinched with focus. A canteen rested nearby, half-drained. They’d gotten fluids in him, then.

  "Lieutenant," Voss rasped, raising his chin a centimeter. "Still in one piece?"

  "More or less," Kade said, stepping inside. Bishop and Lawson filed in behind her, both still wearing the dust and sweat of the last twenty-four hours. Kade kept her eyes on Voss but didn’t miss the flicker of relief in his when he saw the three of them together. "Figured we’d brief you while Stone’s got you semi-conscious."

  Stone gave her a tired look. "He’s got an hour before I sedate him again. I'll step outside while the four of you talk."

  Kade nodded, stepping forward until the light caught the edge of her cutlass.

  "Block Island’s gone," she said. "The facility’s slag, and Naomi slipped out during the shit storm Magnus kicked off. We were too tied up to chase her without getting more people killed. Her ship was already gone from the dock. No sightings since."

  Voss’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak.

  "The Talon made it out. Some hull scoring, rigging damage, rudder’s stiff. Quartermaster Cole’s already on workarounds, but we’re at maybe sixty percent maneuverability. Bishop will cover the full list in a minute."

  Voss nodded slowly, gaze unfocused.

  "As for Project Catalyst... it’s real. Someone in the chain of command knew the reboot was coming and moved to keep the SMC viable. That facility wasn’t the fallback, though. It was a staging point and something went sideways there before we ever arrived. We don’t know where the actual fallback is, or if it even still exists. No signs of troop redeployments or even a quest to point the general direction."

  For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic creak of the Talon’s hull.

  "We’ve got a handful of pirates," Kade went on. "Not prisoners. The Talon’s not built to hold them, and with the Widow’s Grin long gone, there’s nowhere else to send them. Could’ve pitched them overboard, but the Simulation has buried enough of humanity already. I didn't feel like adding to the body count. They’ll get dropped on the mainland."

  She paused. "One of them’s asked to stay. Former Marine. Lawson vetted him. Briggs says he checks out."

  "Destination?" Voss asked, voice rough.

  "Right now we're heading back toward Newport, but that's just to drop off the pirates." Kade said. "We need to find someplace else to berth for repairs."

  "Give me the full damage summary," Voss prompted.

  Bishop stepped forward with a clipboard full of notes in hand. "Bowsprit’s gone. Makes tacking unreliable. Foremast rigging is compromised. One of the crane arms, or maybe debris, shredded the forward stays. We’ve got temporary lashings in place, but it’s a patch job. The rudder’s functional, but it’s strained. Steering pulls to port, and the helmsmen are working harder to compensate. Crew’s down four experienced hands. We’ve got another dozen with wounds bad enough to pull them off rotation. Clerics are triaging, but we’re out of mana reserves. Rotation efficiency’s cut nearly in half until they recover."

  Kade added, "And everyone’s exhausted. We can limp, but don’t expect crisp formations or smart salutes. Not yet."

  "Marines?" Voss asked, shifting his weight. Kade reached out to stabilize his shoulder.

  Lawson took the question, arms crossed. "Stronger than we were at the start, even with the casualties. Newport gave us a crop of able-bodied volunteers. Training’ll be a slog, but the heart’s there. Lost five during the assault. Four more are out with significant injuries. Same cleric bottleneck."

  He hesitated, then added, "Briggs talked to the pirate that wants to stay. His name is Declan Rourke, and he served in the middle east. Got a dishonorable after punching a colonel. According to Briggs, the guy wants a second chance. I believe him."

  Voss’s expression didn’t change, but something eased behind his eyes. "We need bodies. If Briggs signs off, he’s in. Provisional status."

  "We’ll head for Portland Maine," he said. "It’s the closest dockyard we used in the last major overhaul. Full keel support, dry dock, fabrication capabilities, and an SMC outpost nearby. If there’s anything left of the command structure, odds are it’s there."

  Kade met his eyes. "You think the outpost might still be active?"

  "No idea," Voss admitted. "But if anything’s left of the SMC command network, that’s as good a place as any to find a trace of it."

  Bishop pulled a pencil from behind his ear and started jotting quick figures on his clipboard. After a moment, he looked up. "That’s roughly a hundred and twenty nautical miles up the coast. With the rigging damage and rudder strain, we’re looking at three days. Maybe more if we have to skirt any trouble. Long as we don’t get into a proper fight and anchor at night, we’ll be fine."

  The room fell quiet again for a moment, the silence edged by the distant creak of the hull fading into the background as the low thrum of life returning to a ship that had stared death in the face and blinked.

  Kade let it sit for a beat. Then she stepped back, nodding once. "We’ll make Portsmouth. Drop off the pirates at Newport and then three days up the coast. It will be rough, but we’ll make it."

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  Voss looked at her again, eyes sharp despite the bruises. "Then you’ve got command until then. Don’t let her die on the way."

  "Wouldn’t dream of it," Kade said.

  The three turned to leave, but Kade paused just before the hatch.

  "Captain," she said over her shoulder. "We’re not the same crew we were when this started. The Talon’s not the same ship. But we’re still moving."

  The corridor outside the infirmary carried the stale tang of old salt and damp canvas, the kind of smell that clung to ships long past their prime. Kade led the way, her pace steady but unhurried, one hand resting loosely on her belt as she moved down the narrow passage with Lawson and Bishop behind her. Boots scuffed against the worn decking, the sound hollow and sharp in the emptiness. Somewhere below, a hatch slammed and someone cursed. Otherwise, the Talon felt suspended in a lull, not quite at peace and not yet at war, drifting in the space between.

  They’d barely made it ten steps from the infirmary before the conversation turned to loot. Of course it did. The Simulation had coughed up its rewards, and everyone on the Talon was sorting through what they'd earned like sailors eyeing salvage.

  "I still think that lantern’s a joke," Lawson said, scratching at the bandage on his forearm. "A magical forward-looking sonar? We had gear like that pre-Reboot."

  Bishop didn’t answer right away. He glanced toward Kade instead, eyebrows lifting in a quiet challenge, but Kade just kept walking until they rounded the corner past the chart room. She turned, boots ringing against the deck as she looked back at both of them.

  "You’re not wrong," she said. "But we’ve been operating blind since we lost the old systems. No depth readings, no obstacle mapping, just a crew leaning on tired instincts and hope. Having that back means fewer broken hulls and fewer dead sailors. It matters."

  Lawson didn’t argue. He just gave a slight grunt and kept walking, the silence saying more than any agreement would have.

  Bishop adjusted the clipboard tucked under his arm. "The Coldlock Provisions Locker came online half an hour ago. Cole’s practically singing. Says it cuts spoilage by eighty percent, even with mana restrictions. It’s just a big, glowing fridge, but he acts like it’s a holy relic."

  "Great," Lawson said. "Just what we need. More magical household appliances."

  Kade didn’t miss a beat. "I don’t know. I could go for a magical hot shower."

  That got a real laugh out of him. Short, dry, and gone just as fast.

  They passed the main stairwell, where a pair of Marines were hauling supply crates down to the hold. Kade waited until they were out of earshot before glancing sidelong at the two officers.

  "My rewards weren’t as flashy as yours," she said. "But they’re exactly what I needed." She gave a nod toward her cabin down the corridor. "Naval greatcoat. Stormproof lining, reinforced shoulders, pockets where I actually need them. And it doesn’t ride up when I draw steel."

  Stormbinder's Greatcoat

  Quality: Epic

  Enchantments: Stormwatch Protocol, Blast-scorched Veteran

  Description: A weatherworn naval greatcoat tailored from storm-treated canvas and reinforced with stitched heavy leather. The fabric is heavy but moves like oil through water, and the silver-thread seams flicker faintly in high winds. It was designed for officers who never stayed behind the lines and never stayed down, the kind who walked the deck through cannon fire and boarded enemy hulls in the dark.

  When worn by someone standing watch or commanding from the deck of a naval vessel, the enchantments woven into the coat subtly extend into the ship itself, sharpening helm response and sail tension. Under this effect, known as Stormwatch Protocol, any vessel under their command gains a noticeable speed advantage, provided the wearer remains present and upright.

  The second enchantment, called Blast-Scorched Veteran, dampens the force of fire and explosive impacts around the wearer. It reduces the damage taken from cannon blasts, incendiaries, and volatile alchemy, and allows the wearer to stay on their feet when lesser soldiers would be thrown to the deck or into the sea.

  "Looks like it’ll stop a blade, or worse." Lawson said. "That explosion reduction would have been nice to have earlier."

  "Please don't use that Stormwatch Protocol until the ship is repaired, please." Bishop added.

  "Also, picked these up. Reinforced leather. Flexible enough to climb rigging in, hard enough to take a hit. Nothing fancy, but better than patched denim." She gave a tap to the new leather pants she was wearing, the dark material fitted close without restricting movement.

  Leather Officer's Trousers

  Quality: Uncommon

  Enchantments: +1 Leadership, +1 Charisma

  Description: Field-issued and combat-proven, these officer’s trousers are cut from waxed canvas and reinforced with flexible leather plating along the thighs, hips, and knees. The design balances protection and mobility, allowing for full range of movement in close-quarters combat or rough terrain without the drag of full armor. The inner seams are double-stitched to resist fraying, and discreet loops at the waistband accommodate sidearms, tools, or ceremonial fittings depending on the wearer’s station.

  "Functional," Bishop said. "Mine were all ship systems related. Hull reinforcement, ballast optimization, and something to do with mana redistribution. I haven’t sorted them all yet."

  Kade tilted her head. "Makes sense. You handled the Talon during the assault. I was off chasing robots. Rewards probably keyed off our roles."

  Lawson scratched at his jaw. "So why’d I end up with half an armory?"

  "Because you led the Marines straight into hell and didn’t lose the squad," Kade said. "Simulation probably tagged it as ‘operational excellence’ or some other bullshit."

  He snorted, but didn’t argue.

  Kade adjusted the last piece of her new kit, a worn leather tricorn tucked under her arm. She turned it over in her hands once, then held it up for them to see.

  "And then there’s this," she said, the corner of her mouth quirking. "Leather tricorn. Not regulation. Definitely not in style. But better than the bicorn trash officers used to wear. I swear, whoever designed those wanted everyone to look like a pompous idiot."

  Leather Tricorn Hat

  Quality: Uncommon

  Enchantments: Weather Eye

  Description: Crafted from storm-cured leather and stitched with salt-treated thread, this tricorn was modeled after the headgear worn by naval crews long over the ages. Its wide brim deflects rain and glare with equal ease, and the angled shape helps shield the wearer’s face without obstructing peripheral vision. The leather is weathered, creased at the crown, and broken in just enough to sit low and secure in high wind.

  The hat carries a passive enchantment known as Weather Eye, which amplifies the wearer’s situational awareness and precision perception. When paired with an active visual interface the enchantment stacks, allowing the system to automatically highlight nearby navigational hazards.

  Lawson gave a short laugh. "So what, you planning to wear that thing?"

  "I am," Kade said, pulling it on and adjusting the angle until it settled low over her brow. "Not because I like it. But because it works. Stays on in a storm, keeps the rain off my face, and doesn't scream ‘shoot me first’ from a klick out."

  Bishop studied her for a second, then gave a quick shrug. "Suits you."

  "Thanks," she said. "I think."

  They stopped at the next intersection, where the corridor split between the officer quarters and the topside ladderwell. Lawson yawned, clearly ready to be anywhere but vertical.

  "I’m off to sleep," he said. "Three days to Portland, yeah?"

  Lawson turned. "Then I’ll be unconscious until we get there."

  "Good plan," Kade said. "Try not to die in your bunk."

  He offered a lazy salute and headed off.

  Bishop lingered a moment longer, then turned toward the ladderwell. "I’ve got the next watch. Let’s hope it’s a quiet one."

  Kade watched him go, then turned down the companionway toward her quarters. She didn’t know what they’d find in Portland. Probably nothing good. But they were still afloat, still moving, and for the first time in days, the future felt like something they could reach. Today, that would have to be enough.

  She stepped into her cabin and closed the door behind her.

  — The End —

  Tides of Ruin Book One

  Book Two is already written and launches this Friday. We’ll start with a short recap chapter for anyone who wants a quick refresher before jumping straight into the new adventure at our usual release time.

  If you want to read ahead, the next ten chapters of both Tides of Ruin and The Grand Crusade are already available on Patreon. Reader support there is what keeps these stories alive. It helps fund ads, cover author expenses, and allows us to keep expanding this world.