The captain of the Fleeing Danger approached with a Parni man Riko had not met.

  "Sir, this is Agdur. He will take charge of the Tampra forces," the captain said. "With your permission, of course."

  Riko winced as the quark removed his shirt. He delayed any answer. He didn't want to speak; he wanted to think about what troubled him, to find answers and reassurance so his mind could rest. And to do so, he wished for solitude. But his wish was not granted.

  "I request permission to sail to Ujan, Sir," Agdur spoke firmly but without losing courtesy. "I'm sure the forces there are aligned with our interests. You'll find nothing but allies among us."

  "Permission granted," Riko said.

  Agdur slammed his boots together and saluted. Then he left. The captain remained, seeking attention, though Riko ignored him and scouted the deck to find Ivy.

  "Regarding… uh, how about my proposal?"

  Riko plunged into his thoughts, avoiding the captain's question.

  Not getting any answer, the man urged. "Sir? Time presses on the matter."

  When the metal tweezers dug into his wound, his shoulder burned. Riko didn't mind, yet he pretended to be troubled. "Mister Mikaih, you may forgive me in a moment like this. Would you mind reminding me what the proposal was about?"

  "The Indri and Ray's survivors had taken command of a small ship. They are going to settle back on the filthy island they once owned. And Uwe men intend to take control of Male. With no supervision, this will turn into a pirate hub very soon. With a small crew and —"

  "Aye, I remember now." Riko cut. "Permission granted."

  When Mikaih left, the man aiding the doctor dragged his knees to reach closer to his side. "Sir," he whispered. "Forgive my meddling, but… deck's gossip says Captain Mika is not to be trusted. He may take this new position as an opportunity to raise himself as a new Finger."

  "Don't trust the Parni either." The doctor spoke loudly and without restraint. "They will obey whatever comes from the capital. The Rajah's word is sacred, and if we don't have his blessing, it doesn't matter what the other Parni say or want."

  "Why is all this our problem? The Nor'Wes is where we belong, not here," Riko said, half of him wandering the surroundings and the other lost in inner thoughts.

  The doctor continued, still too loud. "Vega has lost all his leverage. You plan to take over before any of the old, lazy dogs in the north wake up, correct?"

  Riko answered with a nose blow.

  "The Kraken is an enormous beast, sir. If you plan to ride it, you better do it with both hands. Or else, shit will pile around us in big mounds. And you know what happens when too much dung piles up?"

  "It stinks?"

  "It will fall on us."

  Although he didn't want to admit it, Riko knew there was truth in those words. In the same way that not finishing Vega could allow him to recover, giving other problems the time to worsen could turn dangerous for them.

  With trade between clusters open again, there was no longer any north or south. Without Herjard or the old kraken, the north would need their protection. But in the south, with a debilitated Tampra, destroyed Geckos and an almost gone Fist of Piracy, there was a similar vacuum they had to fill. And to do so, he needed to play politics. A game he despised.

  "I'll take another look at those proposals."

  After the muttering, Riko was done with the discussion. He embraced the recurring reflections of the battle. Especially when he ignored common sense to save Ivy.

  He had not seen the weapon raised. There was smoke everywhere, yet he felt it. Perhaps, was his experience, perhaps fate. Whatever it was, instead of feeling proud, he could not shake the unease of having shielded her. For some reason, his thoughtless reaction had felt foreign and, not knowing why, brought him nothing but shame.

  “I'm getting too soft,” he mumbled.

  The doctor dug deeper into his wound. “I wouldn't call your resistance to pain soft, chief.”

  The tweezers got out, bringing with them a bullet. It hurt a lot, but Riko was used to it.

  “Not normal, indeed. Neither this strange skin condition of yours, I must add,” The doctor didn't bother with Riko's unfriendly gaze and continued his chat while bandaging. “The tattoos I mean. Normal folk get them for life. Maybe the ink fades with age, but never seen a man losing it all."

  “Keep patching, doc.”

  “Moody, uh? From that face, nobody would say we have won the battle. Come on, cheer up. Nothing that's coming is worse than what we've already encountered!”

  It usually took just one of Riko’s looks to make people shut up. This time he needed two. He was, maybe, truly getting too soft.

  When the doctor finished his work, Riko raised, not before thanking him kindly. He shuffled through a deck filled with corpses. Many were already in bags; others were still to be covered. The mourning men would cover them all, then sew the face last, giving a last pass through the nose, as tradition mandated. After a prayer, they'd toss them into the sea, feet roped to a weight. A sailor's rest. Simple, but for them, the only way to become part of the ocean in death, as they did in life.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Riko crouched beside one body.

  Long’s face was calm, at peace. Almost as if he wanted to be inside that rag. Riko fell silent for a while, staring at the old sea dog while frustration gnawed at his gut. The world seemed to spin as it should have, yet he didn't like it.

  Timo shaded them from the morning sun. “The men want to give the king a captain's farewell.”

  “The blue has no king.”

  Timo chuckled. “You tell them that.”

  Around, most of the survivors busied themselves, but few found time to rest bodies and minds. Macha was on the railings, on the other side of the deck. The woman of dark skin, said to be one of the Harpy’s daughters, was snuggling his arm and letting him caress her hair. Riko wondered if, after all the fighting to come, he himself could find the same ease one day, or instead, if he would find rest in a rag like the old king.

  “Aye, you!” burst a voice from the side. Riko didn't raise a look as he hadn't done for Timo.

  “Not now, Allor," Timo said. "Go lick some salt and come back tomorrow. Or next year, better.“

  “Shut up, pup. Let the grown-ups talk, aye?”

  Allor stood too close.

  The idea of smashing a fist into his crotch crossed Riko's mind, although his body, all in pain, didn't comply. “I remember the deal,” he said instead. “Your boss knows I keep my word.”

  “The one-eyed man's head.” Allor moved away as fast as he had arrived. “The Kolo wants it before the year's end!”

  Riko snapped his teeth.

  “Is the far north cold?” Timo said.

  “You don't have to follow.”

  “Of course I do. What would you do without me?”

  Riko's lips pulled slightly. He remained quiet, letting future worries slide away. Searching around the deck, he sought relief, although he found none.

  At the mainmast's base, Ivy sat. Her hand was a bulk of bandages, and her neck had been cared for as well. At her side sat the crippled man, Ced, with an arm over her and a smile on his face. Riko felt the urge to go. Yet, he wouldn't. Ced was the best person to be with her now. Not him.

  He gave Long a last look before the canvas covered his face.

  He sighed. Some things, he thought, hurt more than a bullet in the shoulder.

  “So?” Timo said.

  This time Riko's eyes darted up. “So what?”

  “The king's funeral.”

  “He dearly hated pomposity. He’d want a plain sailor's goodbye, nothing more. Tell the man that. They will agree.“

  The light blinded him again.

  “Wait,” Riko took a moment to think. Way after Timo returned the shade over him, he spoke again. “Tell them to delay the talks about his passing. We may need the legend to live longer.”

  The quartermaster let out a snort. “As soon as we reach Ujan, birds will fly and tongues will loosen. No way we're stopping that. “

  Riko reprised his walk on the deck. “Then as soon as we get to land, tell Silla, old Kent and a few others with skill on tales to go spread rumors. Tell them to speak; the king faked his death to return to the shadows. They will tell they saw it with their own eyes. How he took a small boat and sailed away, warning all that if we push him to return, he will be mad and we, dead. Something like that.”

  “I'll leave the storytelling to them. Yours is not your best strength.“

  “Shut up, pup.”

  On the way to the bow, they crossed paths with Uri. The Jo woman stared shamelessly, and when they reached shoulder to shoulder, she bowed gently. Riko returned the greeting too late for her to see.

  Timo turned, checking low and blowing. “That's steam, mate! And my gut tells me she’d let you release it.”

  “Shut… up.”

  A man approached, fingers reaching for his beanie. ”All ready to sail, cap’n. We have cleaned the Herjard ships of anything of value, but there's no way human hands can sail those things.”

  “Sink them all.”

  “Understood. The remaining krakens had fled. But two ships came black. They want to join your Kraken. Under your leadership, they said… What should we tell them? Is a Corvette and a nice fifty-gun frigate.”

  “Tell them we agree, but only if their captains surrender command in good faith. My word of honour; they will get a new vessel eventually, but not now.”

  “Understood. Who to assign to the new ships?”

  “Give Allor the smaller one. If he distrusts the gift, he can leave his dogs around me if he fears I will run away. Or give any of his minions the position.”

  “And the big one?”

  A thumb darted lazily towards Timo . “We give it to this one. He has very well earned it.“

  The quartermaster spoke as if the news didn't surprise him. His eyes betrayed him, though. “That one maybe is too big for me. Are you sure about that?”

  “Words no lady has ever told you,” Riko said.

  Timo was moving to salute when the burst of laughter broke his stance. “Look at that. You have humor! What a world we are heading in!” He recovered his composure and a hand reached his forehead. “Thank you, Captain. I'll do my best!”

  “I know.”

  Timo smacked the sailor’ s shoulder. “I like your face. Be my quarter! Oh, yes, should we call the Riko: Admiral now? “

  The man fidgeted, not really knowing whether he should smile. "Ah, sure. Uh, captain, sir. I'll tell the men. If the Riko… Captain… Admiral agrees.”

  “Cut the parni port, gents, and go back to work. We have a long trip ahead.”

  "We need to talk about the plantations, in case we get Vega's—"

  "He's not done yet."

  "As if…" Timo said. "What do I tell the Han folk?"

  "Later."

  "And how about—"

  "Later."

  Riko turned to face the sea. His new title already weighed heavily on his shoulders, even before it was official. The journey to Tampra was the end of this fight, but more had to come against him. New pirate Kings would rise. New rebellions would break out. New friction amongst islands; new tensions. New wars. Those were the troubles the New Kraken had sworn to end, and he was there to lead it to success.

  “I can handle this,” he muttered. “Seen worse, after all.”