Voidhawk - Lost Soul (10 page)

Jenna gave the tall woman a hug on her way out, then she turned to face Dexter. “Dex…”

“Gods, woman. I’m tired,” Dexter moaned.

Jenna took his hand and pulled him out of his chair. She clung to him tightly until he started to sway with exhaustion. “You need rest, and then we’ll talk,” she promised. “I don’t always understand the way you do things or the why behind it, but it seems to work out pretty good most of the time.”

“Only most?”

She guided him to the bed and sat him down on the edge of it. She gave him a kiss before helping him pull his clothing off. “If you trust Celia, I’ll accept that. I did terrible by her and I need to make it up to her, I’m just not sure how.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Dexter mumbled.

Jenna smiled and ran her fingers through Dexter’s hair.
“Too bad you’re so tired, I was going to offer to help you sleep.”

Dexter groaned. With their schedules and jobs, intimate moments between them had been few and far between. He had to hire some more crew. Tasha was acting
arms mistress, but she’d made a fine second mate.

Jenna gave him a lingering kiss as he started to drift away into a far more comfortable darkness than the last one he’d endured. “Rest well, my love. Jia’s
not the only one that needs you.”

Chapter
6
 

Dexter sat in the chair next to Jianna’s bed but his thoughts led him elsewhere. He tried to relive every memory he had since taking possession of the Voidhawk. In particular he dredged up the earliest days, when he and Kragor had been rebuilding the ship in between his time spent pretending to work for the Federation.

His concentration was shattered by Keshira’s voice. “Where’s the Captain?” she asked, her voice sounding irritated. Dexter smiled at the emotion. He didn’t enjoy irritating beautiful and powerful women—usually—but in this case it meant Keshira was functioning intellectually and emotionally on her own.

“I’m in here,” Dexter called out loud enough to carry through the door. He winced and turned to look at the small form of his daughter, then frowned. If only a loud voice was all he needed to wake her.

Keshira opened the door without hesitation or knocking. “Captain, I heard about your experience. I believe I know who is responsible.”

“Dex!”

Dexter watched Jenna go storming past the door towards the bridge. She stopped, having caught sight of them out of the corner of her eye, and glared up at the taller pleasure golem. “Free or not, don’t you ever leave your post like that again!”

“What’s going on?” Dexter rose from his chair. Keshira’s words had startled him, but the new situation needed immediate attention.

“I’m sorry,” Keshira said. “I was trying to think of how I could make the Captain happy. Helping figure out what happened seemed like the best option, since neither of you wish me to fulfill the purpose this body was designed for.”

Dexter coughed and even Jenna’s petite elven nostrils flared. The deranged wizard that had built Keshira had built several golems just like her, though each had their own look. The end result was a constructed being that was designed to fulfill whatever carnal desires their bonded Master wanted. In order to do that the pleasure golems had to be not only anatomically and aesthetically pleasing, but also strong, resilient, and able to learn quickly.

“Wait,” Dexter said, a thought occurring to him. “The purpose your body was built for? You saying you’ve got an itch you can’t scratch?”

Jenna gasped in the doorway.

“I’m not saying I plan on scratching it,” he added as an afterthought. Jenna scowled at him.

“Sir, without our bond I am free to reflect on what I do best and what brings me the most pleasure. This body was built for that purpose: pleasure. It has become apparent to me that everything I do has some sensation that triggers excitement or arousal in me. Using my body to haul on the lines, feeling my clothing rubbing against my skin, and other things. Ormitor built me with pleasure as his top priority. He did not do so unkindly, I think, for he made sure I would find great enjoyment in any such activities as well.”

Dexter clamped his mouth shut. He shook his head to clear it of Keshira’s disturbing revelation. The disturbing part being that it sounded as if he could turn the Voidhawk into a sailing brothel. “Um, well, you’re not likely to start molesting my crew, are you?”

Keshira smiled. “
No, sir. I think that even if you were to desire me to do so I would have reservations. As you said, I’m responsible for myself now and I wouldn’t like that very much. I’ve learned everything from you and the others, I understand respect and kindness.”

“Huh,” Dexter said, at a loss for words. He was proud of Keshira. Proud and amazed. In the span of four days she’d reached these conclusions on her own. Her constant smile was gone, but in its place there was a sparkle in her eyes that told of a more complete being.
She was a far cry from the suicidal maniac that had been prophesied when she outlived him.

“That’s wonderful,” Jenna snapped. “But no matter what you’re feeling, you need to get clearance to leave your post when you’re on the deck!”

Keshira nodded. “You’re right, and again I’m sorry. I was so excited I just forgot.”

“See to it you don’t forget again,” Dexter echoed Jenna’s sentiments. “Now since you came all the way down here, who do you think is behind all this?”

“Dex, there’s more,” Jenna interrupted.

“More than rebuking her for running off deck?”

“Aye, we’ve got company.”

Dexter frowned. He hadn’t felt the subtle shift that usually accompanied a voidship’s transition from sailing unimpeded through the void to tactical speeds.
“Did the Duke send another ship to get his daughter back?”

Jenna shook her head. “I don’t think so, these are elven ships.”

“Ships?” Dexter repeated, emphasizing the ‘s’ on the end of the word.

“Three of them, scouts. And they’re ahead of us.”

“Get everybody ready. I don’t expect it’ll get ugly but I’m tired of being caught with my pants down.” Dexter’s hand checked for the pistol at his hip. “And Keshira, who do you think’s behind this? I don’t want to run the chance of forgetting to ask later in case this gets exciting.”

“Rolxoth, the sheriff of Port Freedom.”

Dexter and Jenna gasped in unison. Rolxoth had worked out a deal with them the last time there were there. They’d just killed the wizard that had created Keshira and burned down his house in the process. Freedom meant doing Rolxoth a favor. A favor that ended up backfiring rather badly when the elves double crossed him and overran Port Freedom.

The tricky part was that Rolxoth wasn’t a human or an elf. He wasn’t even a dwarf, he was something else entirely.
Someone had once told him that Rolxoth came from a race of beings said to come from another realm. There had to be magic involved, they were faceless and powerful, two qualities Dexter could attest to after having met him.

“That son of a bitch!” Dexter muttered. “
I remember him saying he was happy there. Looks like he wants it back.”

“He went to all of this trouble for it?” Jenna asked. “If he had enough money to arrange all of this, why’s he need Port Freedom under his fist?”

Dexter nodded. Jenna had a way of making sense. “We’ll figure that out later, right now we got some elves to deal with.”

Dexter stopped by the bridge on his way out. Celia was on the helm, not his first choice considering it might turn into a tactical challenge. He peered out the window and saw the ships ahead. They were closing at a rate that made swapping out helmsman all but impossible. The time needed to merge with the ship and take control wasn’t excessive, a few minutes at worst, but it could be the difference between life and death.

“Celia, stay sharp. This could get ugly and we might need every bit of speed you can give us.”

“Aye, Captain,” she said. She smiled at him, ready to show her prowess. Dexter noticed the bruises were fading and the cuts were healing.
Jenna still didn’t trust Celia but his wife was too embarrassed by her temper tantrum to say anything bad about the young woman.

Dexter hurried up to the deck, stopping only to grab his sword he’d taken years ago from the elf that had tried to capture Jenna the last time they’d been to Port Freedom. He
girded it about his waist and marveled at how the void seemed to be getting smaller.

Dexter reached the bow deck and joined Tasha, Xander, and Jenna. Tasha looked resplendent in her gleaming golden plate mail. “Think I’m still the admiral?” Dexter mused aloud to let them know he’d walked up behind them.

“Do I look like a butterfly?” Jenna quipped.

“Captain, their weapons are loaded and manned,” Tasha said, pointing to the ballista on the bow of each scout ship.

“That’s not very friendly,” he muttered. He turned and glanced back at the ‘Hawk. Celia had been working on improving their sails and other features of the ship, trying to give it some extra speed. Ballista would be useless against the ‘Hawk. On the outside it looked normal enough but Dexter had called in some favors with the elders. Of course a hardened hull wouldn’t do him any good if they tore up the sails that captured the solar winds. “I don’t see any hailing flags either.”

“Sir, we’re almost in range.”

“Ain’t no gravity or air but what the ‘Hawk brings with us the void,” Dexter reminded the Golden Lady. He stepped over to the weapon the elders had outfitted the Voidhawk with and patted it appreciatively. It resembled a ballista in that it fired a steel tipped bolt, but there the similarity ended. The weapon used magic, not mechanical arms, to propel the tree trunk size bolt. “We’re always in range. We don’t have the crew to reload the Lumberjack, so we wait until they shoot first. Then we wait some more to make sure we don’t miss. Then we turn and hit them with the other one.”

They sailed on in silence, closing the distance with the three elven vessels. Dexter began to think his fears were unfounded, they were less than a minute from merging atmospheres with the lead ship and still nothing untoward had occurred. Almost as if his relaxing shoulders were a signal, there was movement aboard the three ships.

“Captain, they’ve fired on us!” Jenna shouted.

“Some gratitude,” Dexter muttered. “Bring our bow up!”

Dexter snapped orders to the crew. Keshira, Trilliana, and Sayara scrambled to work the sails to help Celia raise the ship’s pitch. A few seconds later Dexter felt the first thud of a ballista bolt striking the hull of his ship. A second vibration gave proof to the impact of a second bolt, but the third shot wide to the starboard.

“That’ll do, bring us down and line her up with the lead ship.”

The bow dropped, bringing their opponents back into view. Figures lined the railings of each ship, pistols drawn and pointed at the Voidhawk. Normally it wouldn’t be a concern, the power of a ship’s helm and the magical bubble of air and gravity that surrounded it swept small objects aside. A catapult, ballista, or shot from a bombard might break through the repelling field but an arrow or bullet would not. Unless the battling ships were within each other’s bubbles.

“Captain, we’ve merged air!” Tasha cried out. Jenna continued to give orders, bringing the ship around to line up for the shot.

Dexter nodded. Now things were going to get interesting. He waited for the perfect moment. “Fire!”

Tasha spoke the magical command word for the ballista. The bolt, twice as long as a man and as wide around as Dexter’s thigh,
burst out of the tube so fast wind buffeted the four of them. The bolt streaked through the void and hit the elven ship on its port bow, a few feet beneath the deck. It punched through the hull and smashed through the wooden bones of the ship. The main mast, which held a triangular sail, canted to the side. The ship listed badly, supplies from within the hold spilled out of the gaping hole in the hull.

Xander pumped his fist in the air and cheered at the direct hit. “Sir, she’s breaking up!” Tasha cried out.

“Bookworm, learn anything useful in the last six years?”

Xander pulled his sleeves back. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small lead ball. “Think you can hit their mainsail?”

Dexter scoffed at the wizard. He drew his pistol and fired it at one of the ships, then hurried to pour fresh fire powder into the barrel and pack it tightly. By the time he was ready Xander held the bullet suspended in the air between his hands. Dexter noted the faint bluish glow the lead gave off.

The first enemy pistol shots struck against the ship, one coming so close between the two men that Xander ducked back and nearly lost his concentration. Dexter stepped closer to the wizard, holding the pistol in place so Xander could place the ball in the end of the barrel.

Dexter wasted no time in ramming it down the pipe, then he turned and pulled the hammer back. He paused, staring in surprise at his pistol. He could feel the cold seeping out of it and into his hand.

“Hurry!” Xander warned. “It grows colder with each passing second!”

Dexter aimed and fired, then dropped his pistol to the deck and grabbed his aching hand. Dexter stared at the wizard, uncertain if he should thank the man or punch him. His fingers were tingling as warmth began to return to them. He followed the wizard’s gaze and saw the enemy ship’s mainsail hanging stiffly from the ropes.