"Well now... you're lookin' mighty fine, Miss Daisy. What say you an' I go upstairs an' I show you what you're missin' out on, lettin' your girls have all the fun?"

"Tol' you before, Sheriff. Ain't nothin' gets in my drawers 'cept me an' what runs on batteries. Now if you'd kindly take a step back; I'd hate to do somethin' I might regret, 'specially you being a lawman an' all."

"You makin' threats, Miss Daisy?"

"That I am, Sheriff," she replied, pushing the inebriated lawman away so she had room to retrieve the six-shooter from the holster at her hip. "An' listen close 'cause I speak true; this threat is anythin' but idle."

"Ain't a wise move, threat'nin' the law like that." The Sheriff lunged, catching Miss Daisy's wrist before she had chance to get a shot off. He pulled her towards him, relieving her of her weapon as he did so.

"I ain't ever seen a six-shooter like this," he said. "But you got yerself in some kinda' conundrum, Miss Daisy. Either you open your legs for me or today's the day I'll be shootin' me a who-re."

"Pretty sure the lady ain't interested in receivin' your affections, friend."

The sheriff whipped himself around, dragging Miss Daisy with him as he did so. It was not obvious to him who the speaker was. There were several people in the room, none of whom appeared to be looking in his direction.

"Which one o' you cowards ain't got the stones to show yer face when yer talk to me?" he yelled, yet no one made any moves to turn around and face him. "I'll be takin' this who-re upstairs then. Ain't no man gon' wan' fuck her when I'm done."

Yanking the woman by the frill at the back of her collar, the sheriff dragged her across the room towards the stairs. No man made any effort to stop him but as his feet fell heavily upon the staircase, two men at the bar turned to each other in such a way that the staircase and balcony above were entirely visible in their peripherals.

"Coulda' shot him dead right there."

"Coulda', but it ain't your place any more'n it's mine... 'Sides, Daisy's plenty capable of handlin' herself else you and I both know we wouldn't be leavin' the dirty work to her."

"Aye. An' it's my train o' thought that bastard'll be confused as all Hell when the Mach won't work for him."

"A trigger with fingerprint recognition's a wonderful thing."

One of the men glanced at his pocket watch and sighed, deeply.

"You gon' be all right here?" he asked. "Only it's five n' twenty past. Wanna' make sure Ettie's all ship shape an' ready to fly."

"Don't worry none, Ronnie," was the reply. "I got this under control."

Ronnie didn't doubt for even the slightest second that what Ed, his lifelong friend and second in command, said was true so with a tip of his Stetson, he slipped his buttocks from the wooden stool and quickly made his way out of the saloon.

It was a bright night, Manak's three large natural satellites casting light enough to make the shadows that little bit darker than Ronnie liked.

He checked the shooters at either hip, more for reassurance than anything else. There was no immediate danger – not yet, anyway. 'Course, as soon as Daisy put a hole through that raping bastard of a sheriff's head, that'd change pretty rapidly.

Manak was the very definition of a frontier planet. Situated at the very edge of Section 7, its original purpose was to be used as a base from which Section 8 would be explored, however the war raging between Sections 3, 4 and 6 had put a dampener on humanity pushing any further into uncharted space – for the time being, at least.

Every time Ronnie saw her, he couldn't help but marvel at her beauty; The gorgeous, perfectly symmetrical curves, sleek lines and the battlement atop the vessel that had got him out of more scrapes than he cared to mention. The fact that the enormous Gatling hadn't functioned for several months wasn't the point; The threat of the weapon shredding a hull to pieces was generally enough to quiet even the most aggressive of adversaries.

And there she was, looking as radiant as the day he'd won her. Not at cards, that wasn't his game, but put a gun in his hand and he'd shoot straight through a tin can 'round a ninety degree bend. It was a gift, plain and simple, and Ronnie wasn't normally the type to show off but you can't be Captain without a ship.

Persiphone was much more than just a ship though. Persiphone was home.

"Mornin', Cap'n." Ronnie tore his eyes away from the vessel and instead, flashed Ettie a smile as she made her way down the ramp that dropped from Persiphone's undercarriage.

"'Spose'n it is, techni'cly," he replied with a chuckle. "How's she lookin', Ettie? An' there's no need to go easy on me, tell it like it is."

"You really wanna' know, Cap'n?" the young girl asked, her eyebrow raised. "'Cause I don' have any quarrel sugarcoatin' it."

"Well young Ettie, you've twisted my arm," Ronnie said, smirking. "Tell me she'll fly an' I'll be happy as a preacher on Monday."

"She'll fly, Cap'n."

"Good girl." He ruffled her greasy mop of hair as they strode side-by-side up the ramp, and smiled. Ronnie definitely thought of Ettie as the daughter he'd never had. She'd joined his crew three years back after a job went horribly wrong and her folks got caught in the crossfire. Not only did Ronnie feel responsible for that then, and still, for that matter, but had he left her the girl would've surely ended up in one of what the Union called, generously mind, 'orphanages.' In truth they were little more than workhouses and in Ronnie's experience, most of the kids sent there turned to crimes much worse than any he ever committed within a few years.

So he and Ed had taken her under their respective wings. She'd taken to life on board a ship like a stripper pretending she enjoys her job – pretty damn quickly. At only thirteen years old she knew her way 'round an engine better than Ed, and Ronnie was certain that if he gave her a rock and a strip of metal she'd be able to build a city. A slight exaggeration, perhaps, but the girl could've been a damn engineer keeping an entire fleet flying, rather than making sure a rusting death trap – albeit a delectably sexy rusting death trap – just about managed to stay in the sky.

"Bunks ready for our guests?"

"Aye, Cap'n." Ronnie had no idea what he'd do without her. "The four suites are double-stacked, an' the rest'll have to make do with mattresses in the Mess."

"Better'n what they'd be suff'rin by stayin' put so I doubt we'll hear much by way of complainin'."

An intercom upon the wall several feet back towards the ramp burst into life with a fizz of static, before Ed's voice could be heard semi-clearly.

"Comin' in hot, Cap'n. There's a damn posse on our tail."

Ronnie made a dive for the intercom and hit the button that enabled him to communicate with Ed.

"Door's open all welcome, like," he replied. "Ettie's ready to give us all the power she can an' as soon as you're all on board, I'll have us up, up and away quicker'n you can take a piss."

"Aye, Cap'n," replied Ed as Ettie turned, sprinting for the engine room.

"Oh, Ed."

"Yes, Cap'n?"

"Don't go getting' yerself all shot up again."

"Aye, Cap'n. Reckon I intend on avoidin' that this time."

Chuckling, Ronnie released the button and broke into a run for the bridge. It wasn't too often he got to fly Persiphone, that task normally befell Ed, but that was not to say he was anything but an expert on the stick.

"Get those engines wound up to eleven, Ettie," he said over the comm once he was in position. "Ain't got time for misfirings and whatnot."

"Imma pretend you di'nt jus' say that, Cap'n," she replied. "Ain't worried 'bout me but you can't go 'round utterin' such profanities; Persiphone's gon' hear ya'."

"Well now, can't have that, can we?" he said, chuckling as he gently caressed the arm of the chair in which he sat. "Ed, y'all on board yet?"

"Almost, Cap'n," came Ed's barked reply. "Count to five an' we're good."

"Right you are, good buddy."

Silently, Ronnie counted down from five. Upon the wordless utterance of zero, he flicked a switch and pulled back on the stick, tilting Persiphone to a forty-five degree angle, her nose pointing towards the sky.

But a few feet beneath him, the only separation a few sheets of reinforced metal and several thousand miles of cabling, he guessed, the thrusters held the vessel steady.

"It's on you, Ettie," he said, quietly. "Give me full burn an' we'll get our sweet derrières off this damn rock."

***

Ronnie slugged from the bottle, keeping his eyes on Miss Daisy as she tucked into a sandwich one of her girls had whipped up for her. There was no denying she was easy on the eyes, a fact that only served as a benefit in her chosen profession yet there was an innocence about her, too. Ronnie found that combination mightily agreeable, and add the fact that she'd just killed a man into the mix and you'd got the kind of woman Ronnie would crawl naked over hot coals for.

"We're in your debt, Captain," she said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. "Me 'n my girls, we owe you our lives."

"Don't owe nothin' 'cept payment," he replied, kindly. "Ain't havin' talk of 'how can I ever'n repay you,' or some-such nonsense. Persiphone'll get yer to Gull Breach, you's'll pay us cold hard cash an' then we'll all go 'bout our business."

"Thank you, Captain," she replied with a gracious nod.

"It be a trip lasts three days so providin' we don't run afoul of them wishin' us harm," he paused and fished a homemade from the pocket of his jerkin, and a book of matches from the opposite pocket, "then you n' your girls be back to whorin' soon enough, jus' not on my boat, not on Persiphone. Other'n that, you's've got the run o' the place."

***

A little shy of three days later, Persiphone touched down on Gull Breach. It was a relatively tiny moonlet, allowing only for the small town of Gull Breach itself, plus a handful of ranches, farms and at the magnetic pole, the geothermal power-plant that served the moonlet and the thousands upon thousands of vessels that made use of that power.

For its size, Gull Breach was the most tectonically-active planet, planetoid, moon, moonlet or asteroid in all of the eight sections, which meant that any building on the surface of the planet could withstand pretty much anything.

"Now I've called ahead," said Ronnie as before him, Miss Daisy's girls made their way slowly down the ramp. "The whorehouse's right next to the saloon, an' they're def'nitely a Lady shy of a full house. You an' your girls'll fit in right quickly, I'm sure."

"Thankin' you, Ronnie," she said, wrapping her arms around the Captain's neck as she pulled him close for a hug. Whilst there, she whispered into his ear. "Any time you find yerself out this way... It's on the house."

"That's mighty kind of you, Miss Daisy, an' I'll surely take that into consideration." He smiled, and gestured that she should follow after her girls.

"Tryin' to get rid of me, Captain?"

"Ain't that an' you knows it," he replied. "But Ed's picked up on chatter sayin' we got Union ships in these parts. Ain't a worry for you but for me n' mine... We don't want no Union troubles."

"'Course yer don't," she replied. "I'll keep yer from yer business no longer, Captain... Wait, where's Bess?"

"Bess?"

"Young girl, redhead. Buttocks like the ripest peach you ever did see."

"Couldn't rightly say," he replied. "Ain't seen her and that's the truth."

"Bess!" Miss Daisy shouted down the ramp. "Girls, y'all seen Bessie?"

"Says she was stayin', Miss. Says she got business out in the 'Verse."

"Bessie!" she turned to face up the ramp, her voice echoing around the cargo hold.

"Stayin', Miss," Bess replied, poking her head around the corner at the top of the ramp. "If'n it's OK with the Cap'n, 'course."

"Can always use a spare pair o' hands," Ronnie replied. "But it ain't up to me."

"Please, Miss. I'll beg yer if I have ta."

"Captain?"

"Like I say I got no quarrel with the girl stayin', 'long as she's willin' to pull her weight." He paused, turning to face the girl. "'Til we know what you're good at 'sides whorin', you're on cleanin' duty. Get your own bunk, plus three square meals a day if'n we got the food. You's'll get a cut of any job we take whilstever you're on board, too."

"No quarrel, Cap'n."

"Right you are," Ronnie replied. "Once we're up in the air, Ettie'll show yer to yer bunk."

"Look after her fo' me, Ronnie," said Miss Daisy with a smile.

"No question, she's crew. Now, go 'fore I got no choice but to push you off this ramp."

***

Together, Ronnie and Ed stared out at the three enormous Union Cruisers that were blocking their path. Upon the bridge all was dark and the rest of Persiphone was much the same.

"Soon as we Ettie winds that drive they'll be on us, Cap'n," said Ed, knowing full well that he was stating the obvious but regardless, he felt it needed saying.

The ship and her crew were wanted fugitives in six of the eight sections, and as neither Section Three nor Section Four was close enough to run towards whilst being chased by Union Cruisers, options were severely limited.

"'Could always go for a noisy burn, drop back into Gull Breach airspace an' hope they assume we're a fuel transport that got itself off course."

"Nine times outta' ten that ain't gonna' work, Ed," Ronnie mused. "Thing is, I'm all outta' other ideas."

Ronnie activated the intercom. Whilst it did use a little power and therefore, potentially, the Union Cruisers could have noticed, the likelihood of them noticing such a minuscule drain was very small indeed.

"Ettie, Bess... Get your hiney's up 'n on the bridge. We's gotta' run somethin' past yer."

"Hope they's got a better idea 'twix 'em, Cap'n, 'cos no offence an' all but it's my reckonin' we're gonna' end up with steel bars 'twix us 'n freedom fora' coupla' nights 'fore we get to spend some time in the fresh air, swingin' in the breeze."

"Union Cruisers?" Ettie asked as she and Bess arrived on the bridge, staring out through the window. "They here for us?"

"Prob'ly, but they prob'ly don't know it. Reckon they've heard 'bout the dead sheriff on Manak by now an' it's just an unhappy coincidence for them to be blockin' our way outta' here."

"You figured on a noisy burn?"

"Way I see it, we ain't got any other option."

"No guarantees but unless we gotta' way to convince 'em we're Union, a noisy burn's the way to go."

"What's a noisy burn?" Bess asked.

"Basic'ly we wind the drive beyond maximum an' drop back to Gull Breach usin' minimum power," Ed replied.

"Maximum noise, minimum effort," Ettie added.

"Only issue with that, is that it prob'ly ain't gonna' work."

Bess scratched her head, scrunching her face thoughtfully as she did so.

"Got an idea, Bess?" Ronnie asked. "We're all ears, so anythin' you got we'd be grateful, like."

She took a deep breath before she spoke, and when she did her voice was completely different. She still sounded like Bess, but not the Bess any of them had come to know over the last few days.

"My apologies for deceiving you, Captain, all of you, but you can berate me for that later if you so wish. Right now, you can choose to trust me and that I'll get you out of what could potentially be a rather nasty situation, or you can take your chances with your noisy burn tactic."

Three dumb-founded faces stared back at Bess and she sighed, shaking her head irritably.

"Move out of the way, Ed. If you want my help then I require the use of your console."

Without saying a word and still keeping his eyes fixed upon Bess, Ed pushed himself away from the console and as requested, vacated the chair.

Bess slipped quickly into the empty seat and said, "open a secure line. Point-eight-eight-dash-zero-one," as her fingers danced busily over what should have, by rights, been a completely unfamiliar dash.

"Well?" she demanded. "Are you all just going to stand there looking at me like idiots? Someone, please, open the damn line and Ettie, you might want to get down to the engine room as quickly as you can."

"Yeah... Erm, Ettie, Ed... Do what she says."

With a shrug in Ronnie's general direction, Ed did as he was asked.

"Secure line point-eight-eight-dash-zero-one," he repeated both for himself and to ensure Bess knew exactly what he had done.

"Union Cruiser this is call-sign Dark-Alpha-Niner. Repeat, Dark-Alpha-Niner. I need to speak to Admiral Ahmed at once, this is a matter of great urgency."

"Roger that, Dark-Alpha-Niner. Message received and understood. Please stand by."

"What the f..?"

"Admiral Ahmed is Union code, meaning we're on a high priority mission designated beyond black ops and require immediate safe passage. In less than ten seconds, we'll have our reply," Bess explained. "There's no Union Captain in the 'Verse who'd dare question that code. They'd rather let us go and verify later, than risk endangering our mission."

As sure as eggs is eggs, nine seconds after their initial response, the Union Cruiser made their reply.

"Dark-Alpha-Niner this is UC Juliet-Papa. You are free to proceed. Repeat, your path is clear."

"Told you," Bess whispered and then, into the comm, "understood, UC Juliet-Papa. Dark-Alpha-Niner, out."

"Well I'll be a..."

"Ettie, give me everything you have," said Bess, interrupting Ronnie mid-flow. "We certainly don't want to hang around here for long enough for out friends aboard UC Juliet-Papa to change their minds."

"Helm's yours, Ed," said Ronnie with a nod. "Me an' Bess gonna' have ourselves a wee drink an' a wee chat."

***

Ronnie popped the cap on a bottle of beer and slid it across the stained mahogany counter to Bess, before doing the same for himself. Then he hopped up onto the counter and swigged deeply of the beer, relieving it of almost two-thirds of its contents before he spoke.

"So..." He left that single syllable word hanging impotently in the air for a few seconds, quite unsure how to tackle the rather large elephant that seemed to take up the majority of the galley's breathable air. "You ain't a whore?"

"No," she replied. "I mean, I like to fuck don't get me wrong but that's not my trade. The whoring was a cover."

"Fo' what?"

"I shall tell you, Captain, but it's my honest opinion that it'd be far better for you if I didn't." She paused, giving him time to say something if he was so inclined, whilst she swigged from the bottle in her hand.

"Officially, I'm a mid-level Union paper pusher, but they don't know I'm out here..." Again she paused, yet Ronnie remained silent.

"No one does, in fact my bosses believe I'm dead."

"There's gotta' be a reason a lass takes it upon herself to fake her death an' whore her way 'cross the Sections."

"I didn't fake my death, as such... I just, didn't argue with their conclusion but I digress... There is a reason."

From the pocket of her jerkin she produced a datacard, no larger than the nail of her thumb yet capable of holding enormous amounts of information, and held it aloft.

"I can trust you, Captain?"

"If you di'nt think you could, it's my train 'o thought I'd still think you were a whore."

"Fair point," she replied with a firm, definitive nod. "This datacard holds the coordinates of a top secret Union prison moon. You won't find it on any star chart; it won't even show on your radar. I stumbled upon it quite by chance, really, though of course everyone within the Union knows of its existence, its location is known to only a handful."

"You got someone y'know bein' held there?" Ronnie asked, quickly realising that it was the only logical conclusion.

"My elder sister," Bess replied. "I mean I don't know for certain, but having checked and rechecked room and board for every known prison ship, planet or moon in all of the Sections, I don't see another option."

"What'd she do?" he asked as he made his way to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple more beers.

"She led a protest against the way Union prisoners are treated and apparently, it didn't go down too well," she replied with a weak smile, taking the beer gratefully. "Three years, Captain. Three years since those bastards took her... Three years since I last saw my sister."

"Shoulda' just said, y'know," replied Ronnie,smiling. "'Course, yer di'nt really know me – still don't but listen close, girl. I ain't the kinda' dude likes to play games, nor am I the kinda' dude who's gonna' leave a lass in some secret super-max for leadin' a protest so I'll help yer, yer got me on board. Ed and Ettie, well that's up to them. Ain't gonna' force 'em t'do nothin 'cos I'll tell yer this; we jailbreak your sister the full force of the Union's gonna' come down on us like nothin' you ever did see."

"Thank you, Captain... That really does mean a great deal."

"'S'all good," Ronnie replied with a nod. "So these coordinates..?"

"It'll be easier if I show you, Captain."

***

Moments later they were back on the bridge, arriving just as Ettie was about to make her way, once again, down to the engine room.

"'Fore y'go, Ettie, Bess here's got summat else we all should see," said Ronnie, insinuating by way of a nod that Bess was free to use whichever console she desired.

Opting for the nearest terminal, Bess took a seat and quickly inserted the datacard into the relevant slot, and typed an access code. No sooner had she done that did the screen come alive with flashing images and reams upon reams of information.

"There," she said, pointing to the screen at the exact moment it stabilised upon the image of a minuscule star system.

"Ain't ever seen that system before," said Ronnie, quietly.

"I did say you wouldn't recognise it," Bess replied. "It's a brown dwarf system, one planet with a single moon and the latter houses the most secure prison mankind has ever built."

"Where is it?" Ed asked.

"Seven hundred and eleven clicks into the proposed Section 8."

"Di'nt think there was nothin' in Section 8."

"Trust me, there is... You think Manak is a lawless place? If half of the stories whispered at Union functions are true, then Section 8 makes it look like Vatican."

"Wait... What in shit we even talkin' 'bout goin' into Section 8 fo'?" asked Ettie. "Y'hear shit, y'know? Bad shit."

"Well it seems Bess got a sister who got herself all incarcerated for protestin' 'gainst the Union an' she's on her way to bust out her kin."

"Sounds reasonable enough," said Ed with a grunt. "Y'know I ain't one to ignore a damsel in distress, Cap'n."

"Thanks, Ed... Ettie?"

"Can't let you two go off on your lonesome without no one to make sure you's lookin' after Persiphone all proper, like," she replied, shaking her head with a small smile upon her face. "I'm in, too."

***

"Ain't enjoyin' this at all, Cap'n," said Ed as with all of her systems with the exception of life support dark, Persiphone held station half a click off the prison moon. "Don't get me wrong there ain't much I like better than givin' the Union the middle finger, but this is way beyond our standard hijinks."

"You're not having second thoughts are you, Ed?" Bess asked, arriving on the bridge as Ed was mid-way through his mini monologue.

"Never had second thoughts 'bout nothin' in my life," he replied, defensively. "Jus' sayin', is all."

"She's pullin' yer leg, Ed. I ain't too crazy 'bout this plan, either, but you an' me we're gonna' see it through 'cause we said we would an' that's what we do. 'Sides, Bess is crew which makes her kin crew, too."

"True enough," the pilot replied. "So what's the plan?"

"We're going to land," Bess replied. "I can't say for certain but I suspect that considering this prison is an incredibly closely guarded secret, security will be minimal. As best I can tell, there is a compound surrounded by an electric fence which is where all personnel are posted. Outside the fence there are no walls and more importantly, no rules."

"Y'reckon yer sister's out there somewhere, beyond the fence?"

"I do."

"Right you are... Ed, let's get us a closer look."

With the slightest of nods, Ed fired Persiphone's secondary thrusters. Not using the engine to its full capacity meant it would take several hours to cover the relatively short distance to the prison moon but if it meant keeping the element of surprise, then it was worth the extra time taken.

"Ettie," Ronnie barked over the intercom. "We're gon' be touchin' down in less time than it takes to rope a Manakan steer... Be a doll an' get our weapons an' ammo prepared."

"Sure thing, Cap'n," Ettie replied midst a mess of static. "Ain't like I'm much use whilst Persiphone's only runnin' thrusters."

***

Ed put Persiphone down within the compound but far enough away from what he assumed were a small barracks, so that their arrival went all but unnoticed.

"No killin'," said Ronnie. "'Least, no killin' the guards. Once we're beyond the fence I reckon killin's gonna' be our only option."

"You and I, Ronnie," said Bess. "Only you and I are going beyond the fence. Ed and Ettie should stay here and ensure we have a ship upon which to make our escape."

Ronnie nodded and within moments, he and Bess were running towards the fence. As they made their approach she produced a small device of some kind. He soon realised that it was a localised EMP emitter, for as soon as Bess hit the button atop it, a section of the fence went dark.

"Thirty seconds, Ronnie," said Bess as she quickly scaled the fence. "Hurry, else you'll end up extra crispy."

No sooner had both of his feet found the ground on the other side of the fence did the pulse wear off and the fence was live once again. With a shrug, Ronnie ran after Bess. She had quite a stride on her, and Ronnie found that he struggled a little to keep up.

"How we gonna' go about findin' yer kin?" Ronnie asked when he finally managed to catch up to Bess. "Ain't seen a soul out here since we jumped the fence. Reckon most like to remain hidden; I know I would."

"I know my sister, Captain. I know that she would keep herself to herself, and that she would remain within running distance of the compound."

"Your runnin' or my runnin? 'Cause I don' mind admittin', I'm a mite outta' shape."

Ignoring Ronnie's remark, Bess scanned the horizon from their vantage point roughly two-thirds of the way up a steady incline.

"Where are you, Cass?" she whispered. Then she saw it, a thin plume of blue-green smoke rising up at the edge of a small, wooded area.

"There!" she hissed. "Ronnie, do you see?"

"I do, but I ain't runnin' that far."

***

Ronnie and Bess walked carefully down what, for want of a better phrase, was probably a garden path. The ground beneath their feet was a thick, orange mud, and the edges were defined by forty-two spikes, twenty-one on either side, all of which were topped off with a very dead head. If that alone had not been enough to freak Ronnie out, then the expressions upon some of the dead faces certainly were.

The path led to a run-down cottage, an actual cottage, with a red door and a smoking chimney.

As there did not seem to be any other option, Bess knocked upon the door.

"Got some damn balls comin' knockin' on my door, you have. Freya send ya', did she? Well she's gonna' get yer lungs in a box like the last time."

Silently, Bess and Ronnie turned around. The sight that met them was one of a girl who was probably quite pretty and would definitely have been so had it not been for the greasy unruly hair, as ginger as Bess' own, the shredded clothes and the dirty, battered and bruised body.

Ignoring Ronnie she scrutinised Bess heavily, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Bess..?" she said, her lower lip quivering. "Bessie, is that... is that, you?"

"Ed," said Ronnie quietly into the intercom. "We got the girl. Come down on me an' we'll make like the prettiest trees on Vatican."

"Right you are, Cap'n," was Ed's reply. "Gonna' be leavin' a fair few unconscious guards who'll gonna' be more than a little pissed when they come too."

"That's a concern for tomorrow," Ronnie replied. "But right now, I don't fancy hangin' 'round here much longer."

"Thank you, Cap'n," Bess said with a wink, turning to Ronnie as she and her sister embraced. "I owe you everything."

"How 'bout we see if we survive the week?" said Ronnie. "We can talk 'bout who owes what later."