“Come on!” Dexter said, moving up the stairs enough for Rosh to join him.
Rosh took a deep breath and, with a last nervous glance around, ran and jumped. He, too, made it to the stairs with no sign of pursuit or aggression. He looked back in amazement, wondering why they had stopped all of a sudden and let them be.
“Hurry, we need to be getting back to the ‘Hawk,” Dexter said, starting up the stairs again.
Rosh nodded and followed him, letting the strangeness of the room slip from his mind. Instead he thought forward to wondering if Bailynn had learned anything new and if she was ready for him to teach her some private lessons yet. He grinned as he thought of just what some of those lessons would involve.
They emerged from the ruined tower and stared around, seeing no sign of the Voidhawk. “Um, where’s the ship?” Rosh asked, snapping out of his lustful reveries immediately.
Dexter looked around, eyes scanning the void, and found that he could not answer. He wanted to, but the absence of his ship left him with an equal loss of words.
“Cap, there’s a trail over here,” Rosh said, pointing out several worn rocks and scuffed marks on the ground.
Dexter stared dully at where Rosh was pointing, not understanding the point the man was trying to make. “Might be worth checking out,” Rosh suggested.
Dexter stared at it a moment longer then nodded. He felt empty at the abandonment of his ship. He knew that Kragor, Jenna, and the others would never mutiny on him. Well, Rosh might, he reasoned, for the right price or opportunity, but the others would never do it. Keshira was bound to him, it was impossible for her to betray him. So where in the reaches of the void were they?
Rosh led the way down the trail, which made its way directly across the asteroid and went over the edge of it, by means of some stairs. The stairs changed their orientation, which made both men momentarily nauseas, but they found that it took place at the same time that they passed through the gravity plane on the asteroid, so it kept them upright even though they found themselves upside down from where they should have been.
“This rock’s like a ship,” Rosh said, surprised.
Dexter grunted, in no mood to talk. It was odd though, he had to admit.
Ascending the stairs on the bottom of the asteroid they soon beheld a sight that left both of them standing in surprise. A small dock had been constructed on the far side, with ports for two small to mid-size ships. A wooden shed was constructed nearby, though the door could be seen to have been smashed in. More importantly, a small boat was moored to the dock. It had been mistreated much like the shed, but the vessel, some homemade contraption resembling a cross between a rowboat and a stagecoach, looked to still be sound. The wheels were broken, some missing rungs while others had been shattered entirely, but the actual boat itself seemed intact.
The castaways rushed towards it, thoughts of their situation no longer bleak and hopeless. Rosh veered into the shed, looking for anything of worth that had been left behind, while Dexter circled the boat before making his way up to the broken decking. Rosh emerged from the shed holding a broken piece of wood. He tossed it to the side and made his way over the treacherous footing of the broken gangplanks up to the boat.
“Got yourself a new boat?” Rosh asked with a grin.
Dexter emerged from doorway in the front to the pilots seat on the front and shot Rosh a dark look. “She’ll fly, but the sail’s been cut up and there’s supposed to be a sail off the bow too.”
Rosh turned to look at the front of the boat. He saw no obvious placement for a sail, just a beam that looked to have been hacked through and broken off. “Where’d it go?” Rosh asked.
Dexter leaned forward to point to the ground beneath the ship. The rest of the beam lay down there, some fifteen foot of it, along with a collapsed sail and several ropes that had been cut or snapped.
“Oh,” Rosh said, scratching his chin. “Well how’s it gonna fly without sails?”
“That’s where we come in, my friend,” Dexter said with a grin. “We need to fix it up so we can find the ‘Hawk.”
Rosh stared at the broken beam and sighed. “Ain’t no talking you into waiting it out for them to come back?”
Dexter shook his head. “Ain’t no coming back, Rosh. There was a trap set for us here, why else would Kragor disappear like that.”
“Maybe he wanted the ship for his self,” Rosh offered, knowing there was no chance the dwarf would do such a thing.
Dexter’s look was all that needed to be said. Rosh shrugged and made his way back down the planking to try and pick up the beam. Dexter stayed up top and waited for the man to toss up a rope he had looped around it. The rope he had carried in his pack, and the sheer effort of lifting the heavy wooden beam he supplied once he climbed back up to the decking. Between Rosh and Dexter, they managed to hoist the beam back up and tie it off, then they began working on trying to repair it.
Rosh hurried off to the shed and returned later with a few handfuls of iron nails and a hammer. They used broken wood from the gangplank to secure the beam back in place as best they could, then Dexter climbed up and, tying the broken ends of the ropes together where possible, he ran the lines. Before long he ran out of rope and they had to use what Rosh had brought with him.
The main sail remained ripped, but the damage was not so severe that it could not be used. It would not allow the ship to make top speed, but it would assist the helm. The front sail, more a spinnaker than anything else, would aid them greatly considering the condition of the main sail.
“Rosh, climb aboard, it’s time,” Dexter said after retying a line for the third time.
Rosh studied the haphazardly repaired vessel and shook his head. With a sigh that turned into a chuckle he climbed aboard, muttering something about dying on a derelict. Dexter ignored him and instead settled into the pilot’s seat. He felt his consciousness merge with the ship and fought the strange sensation that overcame him. It had been a while since he had flown anything but the Voidhawk.
They lifted free of the damaged docks and, although a bit unsteady, Dexter managed to bring the tub into space safely. The area was largely clear of any debris or rocks, so he was able to get his bearings about him and come to terms with the sluggish response the boat had.
“Tactical only,” Dexter mumbled for Rosh’s benefit. “If we’re not finding the ‘Hawk, we’re spaced.”
Rosh grunted and hopped up to the top of the coach so he could man the mainsail as needed. Dexter brought the ship around to the topside of the asteroid and there the drifted a moment, searching the void around them.
“Where to?” Rosh asked, seeing nothing.
Dexter thought it over, still unfamiliar with the boat he piloted and distracted somewhat because of it. He shrugged at last and said, “Deeper in to the rocks. Kragor wouldn’t abandon us,” he reasoned. “So he must have been chased off. I’m for betting he ran into the rocks, hoping they’d be slowing down whatever was after him.”
Rosh grunted again and offered no further response. Dexter took it as an agreement, and started the boat into the asteroid field. Rosh loosened and retied the mainsail to catch the solar wind and push them in the direction Dexter had chosen.
Keshira strained against the ropes that surrounded her. Her hands had been tied, then her arms had been secured to her body. Her ankles and legs had been tied as well, further restricting her movement. Her clothing had been torn from her then, once the ropes were securely in place, so her captors could see what sort of price she might fetch them. They stared at her greedily, thinking both of the wealth she might bring and also of owning her for themselves.