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The tossing waves raged impotently below the squat repair dock cradling the Spirit of Moai at Waiko port. Repairs to the great wound in her side were almost complete, and the crew were enjoying a last night of shore leave before heading off to join the task force. The ship was as dark as the sky above and the waves below, save for the bobbing lantern of the watchman… and an orange glow from the captain’s cabin to stern.

Inside, a sharp rap at the door could be heard. “Enter,” Captain Jang Kiyori called. A dark-haired, amber-skinned, muscular young man stepped inside. “Ah, Zandos,” Kiyori greeted him warmly. “Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing across his parchment-strewn desk.

Zaahl nodded solemnly and sat in the battered old teak chair.

“So… what are the rumours?” Kiyori smiled, eyes wrinkling kindly.

“Sir?” Zaahl asked, momentarily thrown.

“Oh come on, you don’t need to ‘sir’ me, there’s no-one else here,” Kiyori laughed. “Unless you’ve grown tired of being my ears?” he teased.

Zandos recovered quickly, feigning a knowing smile. “Well, there’s a great deal of speculation about who rescinded our initial orders. Some say one of the Secret Orders, some say ‘the Epic Fool’ – presumably referring to Vizier Cain of Menaphos – some even say the Pharaoh has risen from his deathbed to personally command the fleet,” he snorted.

Kiyori nodded. “And what do you think about the battles to come?” he inquired searchingly.

Zaahl’s face darkened. “The pirates are rats and need to be exterminated,” he asserted. “Leave one alive and they multiply in the shadows and come back stronger. We must be as ruthless as they are to survive.”

Kiyori looked momentarily shocked. “Well, there was me thinking you were different to those other soldier types,” he laughed bitterly. “I know you’re stationed on my vessel for boarding defence, but I thought I had taught you this last year that ‘defend’ does not always equal ‘kill’. You sound like her ,” he said bitterly, eyes flashing towards a scroll on the edge of his cluttered desk. Zandos could make out a broken green seal bearing a book symbol, and a signature with the letters ‘DLA’ underneath.

Interesting, Zandos thought.

“What do you think of young Ridnir?” the captain inquired.

“The deckhand boy?” Zandos frowned at the sudden change of topic. “He's a damn good kid. Will probably make a fine officer someday.”

“And if I told you we rescued him from a sinking pirate vessel two years ago?” Kiyori smiled.

Zandos opened his mouth… then closed it again. The ship creaked in the gale outside.

“They are people, Zandos,” the captain said quietly, turning away. “They have their own motivations, even if they seem alien to us. Understanding your enemy is the key to defeating them… but bringing them onto your side is better, surely?”

Zandos began to reply, but Kiyori raised his hand. “You’re dismissed, soldier,” he said.

Zaahl saluted and stepped uncertainly out into the stormy night.