The squeal of screeching metal yanked Clarissa out of slumber, and into a wide-eyed fright. She moved to sit up, but a hand held her shoulder and pushed her back down onto the bed. Warm breath caressed her ear, followed a heartbeat later by Mercy's comforting voice. "Stay silent, no matter what you hear. You're perfectly safe."

Clarissa nodded and stopped trying to sit up. Her hands clutched the edge of the sleeping bag, and she took a deep breath as the sequel turned slightly louder, and light poured in from outside the door. The quiet smack of shoes on the metal deck sounded as soon as the door stopped, and at least two different people skulked inside.

Clarissa's eyes were closed, and she was staying as silent as she could, but she still yelped in shock when a cold hand fell hard on her mouth. Another hand, vice-like, settled on her arm as she tried to pull it out of the blankets. "Quiet, kid. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay silent as the whispering sky."

"We're going to take you away from this. Find a nice place for you. With people who value you. A damn sight better than being cast off to wherever these smugglers have in mind. Just be quiet and come with us. A few hours you'll be on your way to a new home," another voice said from the foot of Clarissa's bed. "Girl like you will never want for anything."

Clarissa kept her eyes tightly shut, and she didn't make reply. "Too frightened to talk?" the man holding his hand over her mouth asked, and Clarissa could hear the smirk in the man's voice. "Suits us just fine, long as you stay that way."

There was a metallic 'click' just above Clarissa's head, and the hand over her mouth eased off. Another click, and the lights turned on, revealing a pistol pointed at the side of a man's head. "I have a deep and abiding dislike of slavers," Mercy said.

"We ain't slavers," a woman said, the same woman who had promised Clarissa a new life. The woman had her hands spread and was eyeing the pistol in Mercy's hand warily. "And Volante is a free land. Girl would be in better hands than wherever your lot plans to take her."

"Indentured service for the girl, a generous finders-fee for you and yours? Shit don't stop stinking on account of calling it 'excess food'," Mercy said harshly, and the man she held the gun to flinched and slowly pulled his head away.

"I'm sure we can come to an accommodation," the woman said smoothly. "You have one shot, and even if you hit him it's still four to one. Give us the girl, keep your mouth shut, we'll cut you in."

"I'm starting to feel left out," another voice said from Clarissa's left. She turned to see Captain Vincent was standing behind the man Mercy was pointing a gun at. The sword in his hand danced in the light from the doorway, and his other hand held a pistol. "Mercy, think it's because these slavers can't count, or they don't think I'm a person?"

"Reckon it's the latter, sir," Mercy replied, as she turned her weapon to face the woman at the foot of Clarissa's bed. "Slavers normally make good bookkeepers. Tabulating debts is almost as complex as navigation."

"So they can definitely count. Have to say, I'm hurt," the Captain said in a light, jovial tone.

"Might not be you specifically, sir," Mercy said. "They didn't include Clarissa either."

"Or Leslie," the Captain added. He turned his head to the doorway with a wicked grin on his face. "How's it going out there?"

There was a rather meaty thump, accented by a sharp crack. A startled gasp, interrupted by a hard crack, and a heavier tumble that Clarissa believed was someone falling to the floor. "I'm fine, Captain," Leslie called back. His tone was so relaxed he could have been sitting for tea. "Our guests are in bad straits, though. Cracked ribs on one, and the other tried to put a hole in the Childs' outer hull with his face."

"He tried to break my ship's hull? The six-inch thick steel hull? With his face?" the captain asked. "How did he do?"

"Bout as well as you'd expect."

"Well now," The captain turned back to the others, and gestured with his sword, nearly drawing blood from the man beside Clarissa. "By my math, it's three unarmed slavers against three armed buccaneers. Well, Leslie's not armed, but he hits so hard a guy you'd be better off if he were holding something. Now I'd rather not show the girl your innards, but my inclinations towards decency aren't powerful impulses of late."

"Also they're slavers," Mercy said, and Clarissa saw the angry scowl and the cold rage in her eyes. "Someone else might suffer if we spare them."

"There is that concern," Vincent agreed. "Take them to the cargo lockout, since it's the only secure place on the ship. We'll drop them off on the first island we see."

"Captain Locklear, what about our possessions?" the woman asked.

"Forfeit as compensation for attempting to abduct a passenger on my ship," the captain replied, and for the first time in this conversation, his voice had an edge of anger to it. "If you return to civilization, you'll find your names blacklisted on every shipwright guild list from here to the Faraway Isles. Reputable ships won't let you aboard and disreputable ones will charge you a fortune."

"You haven't herd the last of this," the woman promised as Leslie stepped into the room and guided the other two out. "You don't know who you crossed."

"Rather doubt I'd know if you told me," the captain replied. "Mercy, you're welcome to shoot her if she annoys you any more than she has."

"Aye, Captain," Mercy replied with a cheerful smile. The woman being lead away swallowed hard and turned her gaze to her own feet as Mercy pushed her out.

A confused swirl of emotions rose in Clarissa and left her near paralyzed. Anger at the treatment she had received earlier in the day, fading fear from nearby being abducted, relief and gratitude, and confusion, all warred in her thoughts. As she struggled to form words, the captain sheathed his sword and holstered his pistol.

Then, to her surprise, he knelt down beside her bed and looked at her as if he was hurting. "I'm sorry," the captain said.

"Sorry?" Clarissa asked.

"I made a promise to the abbess, to value you like crew. I failed at that, barely a day into our voyage," he said. He then reached to his shoulder and took off the necklace the abbess had given him earlier.

"You're sorry you put me in danger?" Clarissa asked.

"No. I'd put my crew in that kind of danger just as readily. But I'd have told them the plan, in advance," the Captain said, and he gently took her hand, and put the abbess' necklace into it. "So I didn't hold up my end of our bargain and haven't earned the price of your passage. This is monastery property still, unless you deem it otherwise when we reach the shield."

Clarissa looked down at the piece of jewellery in her grasp, turned over her hand, and looked at it.

The ornament on the end of the chain was a square about the size of her thumbprint, obsidian black and ice smooth, with intricate circuits set in silver surrounding it. It had three tiny lights, sky blue, along one side. And as her thumb traced one side, she felt the familiar grooves of one of the monastery's devices.

Clarissa gasped and nearly dropped the necklace. "This is-"

The captain cut her off quickly with a single finger, held up in warning. "Not something that should be talked about aloud, outside the monastery. Not even to my crew. If anyone asks why you have that necklace now, just tell them the simple truth."

"I will," Clarissa agreed.

"Then try to get some rest," the captain said as he stood up, and moved for the door. "Since our guests will be departing shortly, there's no one but crew left aboard. It probably doesn't feel that way, but you're as safe as you could ever be beneath the endless blue."

"I, I'll be okay. I think."

"Try to sleep, anyway. I'm going to put you in engineering tomorrow. Tinker could use an extra set of hands, even if it's just to pass her a 5/8ths wrench or oil the converter housing."

"Wait, you're putting me to work?"

"Said I'd value you like crew. Crew have jobs. Now quit your protestations and put your head back down on that pillow. Tinker might have the disposition of a well-fed puppy, but she'll run you ragged if you're not prepared."

The captain moved to shut the door, but added "goodnight Clarissa," on his way out.

Clarissa shut off the light, settled down on her pillow, closed her eyes, and realized she believed Captain Locklear about how safe she was now.