Marco stepped forward, sword raised. The captain spotted him and smiled, then lashed the whip again, this time toward Marco’s feet. Marco jumped back but just barely failed at getting enough distance to keep himself safe. The edge of the whip cut his shin open, streaking the razors red as Marco jerked back again and finally got out of range.

The pirate captain was fast. Not so fast Marco couldn’t see him, but certainly too fast for the others to deal with.

“Elisa! Riv! Take out the rest of the crew before you help. These three are mine.”

“No way, Marco,” Elisa shouted back. “We’re coming.”

“We don’t win unless I hold them here.” Marco was firm in a way he hoped commanded obedience. “Trust me. I’ll hold. Besides, I’m taking Aethe. Right?”

In answer, three separate timed arrows hit the deck in front of each of the captain and guards, forcing them back a step and giving Marco enough room to dive in. He decided to go for broke and take out the green spear wielder first. His reasoning was that if that guy landed a hit, he’d probably have something happen in the status effect range of things, the kind of thing that slowed you down even if the injury that dealt it wasn’t that bad. He probably couldn’t fight three guys anyway, but he didn’t want to fail because he let some poisoner have his way.

Marco jerked left, feinted at the first guard’s face, then spun to the right just in time to get around the spearhead the other fighter had thrust where he had just been standing. Marco threw himself into a sudden low roll that carried him further inside the spear’s reach. The spearman reacted fast, twisting to bring the haft down like a staff, but Marco had other plans. His gun appeared in his hand, firing at the spearman’s face at the same time the rapier stabbed at his foot.

The spearman was fast, but he wasn’t that fast. He jerked out of the way of the bullet somehow, but the rapier caught him in the foot, stabbing through to the deck and digging the point of the sword a tiny amount into the wood. It didn’t hold him for long, but it did freeze him in place for a split second. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to let the next thing happen, and the next thing was a doozy.

Aethe’s arrows weren’t generally flashy in a glowing-with-energy sense, but they made up for that in sheer precision and speed. As three bolts buried themselves in the chest of a man who was far too off balance to stop them, Marco knew he wouldn’t have to worry about the spearman anymore.

That was good, because the second guard was almost on top of him, and the captain was moving forward to back him up.

“One down,” Marco said. “Let’s see if I can make it two.”

He barely finished the sentence before the twin hatchets whirled toward him. He blocked with his rapier and gun, barely keeping the blades off him. On the fifth chop, he got lucky, hooking the curved underside of the hatchets with the barrel of his gun and pulling the guard forward into his rapier. The point dug into the man’s waist, slowing him down a bit as another arrow caught his shoulder.

Marco jumped on the opportunity. He grabbed the man’s wrist mid-swing, yanked him forward, and jammed the butt of his rapier hilt into the man’s temple. The blow dazed him, and a shot from his gun into his chin was met without reply, sinking through into skull-parts unknown and ending him permanently.

Two down.

Marco turned just in time to see the whip coming for his throat.

He had no other choice but to lean back as the whip cracked overhead. The sheer force behind the weapon was overwhelming, not to mention how much territory it covered with each swing. He realized now why the captain had been so slow to help his two guards. He simply couldn’t make precise attacks with the whip in that way.

Marco retaliated, firing his gun and swiping out with his sword. The captain smiled and let his whip come around again, dancing backwards out of the way of the blade swing and letting the whip snap forward. Marco had to duck under the level of his own attack just to keep the whip from snipping his head off, then started an intricate defensive dance to stay out of the danger zone of each new revolution of the whip.

It wasn’t simple spinning. The captain couldn’t effortlessly change the direction of the weapon, but he could angle it low or high with only a slight loss in speed, and if Marco gave him any real space, he could change the plane of the attack entirely, going from mostly horizontal to vertical, or vice versa. Between jumping, ducking, and strafing, Marco was able to get some cuts and bullet wounds in, but he was slowly being punished for every minor mistake he made, picking up cuts and gouges faster than he could lay them down.

It was one particularly nasty catch that almost got him. The captain had been holding back a trick, and just as Marco thought he was used to everything the man could do, his wrist flicked out and sent a wave through the weapon, popping it downward and catching Marco on the side of his face. The wound wasn’t life-threatening, but the wave of pain it caused made him lose his mind for just a moment, thrashing out with both weapons in an unorganized, flailing attempt at defense. The captain seemed pleased by Marco’s inefficiency and sent a faster-than-usual revolution straight at his midsection. Marco bent over double just to get under it.

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A second revolution of the whip came around just under the first, forcing Marco to fall on his back to avoid being ripped in half by the whip. He was flat on the deck now but smiling even though he knew the next revolution would be undodgeable. He hadn’t shown all of his tricks yet either, mostly because he had been standing in front of them for most of the fight. Aethe, he had learned, was not always eager to make noise. She was, however, the kind of person who was always, always watching. The captain had probably forgotten about her during the fight. Marco never had.

With how much attention the captain had to pay to that whip and how slow it was to come around, what happened next was as inevitable as a tide.

As the whip reached its furthest point in the revolution, three separate arrows slammed into the captain, taking him in both shoulders and the center of his forehead. As bulky as the captain was, they hurt. More importantly, they imparted force. His torso was bowed backwards and forced the sweep of his whip upwards, wooshing it just over Marco’s body and making him miss by a hair.

Marco was up the moment the whip passed over him, shooting the captain again as he thrust his rapier entirely through the side of his stomach. The captain was lurching now, dazed from a lot of damage applied to his body in just a few seconds. Marco was unsure he could hurt him badly enough with his gun to end him quickly, but he didn’t need to. Using the rapier as a lever, he spun the man around and faced The Foolish Endeavor. There was a girl there who was great with that kind of opening.

Arrows smashed into the captain’s back nonstop as Marco continued to fire his gun. It didn’t take long after that.

Once the captain was truly down, Marco surveyed the battlefield. Riv and Elisa had done a lot with the time he had bought. The deck was clear. Heaving out one long, relieved breath at the sight of his unharmed friends, Marco turned to face a few very welcome notifications.

Marco did. The captain’s armor and whip disappeared, turning into light and streaking not towards the ship but towards himself. He felt a warmth from his equipment that faded over the next moment, then turned to the system notification for an explanation of what had happened.

“Everyone all right?” Marco yelled.

“We are, Marco. Care to explain why you just stripped down the captain?” Riv tried to keep a straight face as Marco stepped over the captain’s much-less-clothed remains. “Just a bit?”

“Nope. Bigger fish to fry.”

Marco walked to the edge of the pirate ship, looking down at the deck of the ruined civilian craft. Children were rejoining their parents and weeping with them as the sounds of battle fully faded away. Most of them looked fine, if a little banged up. Marco felt whatever sympathy he had harbored for the pirate crew evaporate at the sight.

“We surrender!” The captain of the ship walked forward. “We won’t resist. Please just don’t hurt the families here.”

“I’m not a pirate!” Marco yelled. “Or at least not that kind. Have everyone grab their stuff and come aboard. Your ship isn’t going to last much longer, and we want to help.”

It took time. Everything did, after a battle. Marco moved back and forth across both decks, pointing civilians to safe spots on the pirate ship, directing Riv to organize piles of salvaged food and supplies. There was a surprising amount of cannon ammunition still usable in the pirate hold that they hadn’t spent before the crash. Crates of powder and heavy iron balls were stacked carefully at the center of the deck, lashed down with thick rope Elisa reinforced with a bit of static magic.

Some of the civilians moved quickly, focused and silent. Others cried openly, speaking to no one, gripping bundles of clothes or children as if they were all that kept them real. They came in waves, clutching satchels, cooking pots, and the odd personal item that had survived the fire. Riv, oddly gentle in spite of his usual grumpiness, helped a limping grandmother carry a crate of dried fish across the plank.

“You all from Gulf Isle?” Marco asked one of the older men, hoping for some orientation.

The man shook his head. “No. We’re from the island.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Which island?”

“The island. That’s what we call it,” the man said, shrugging. “It doesn’t have a name. Not really. We keep to ourselves.”

Marco glanced at Elisa, who had already pulled out her notebook. She was drawing something rapidly.

“We’ll take you back,” Marco said. “We owe you at least that much.”

“Remind me to explain to you who owes who in a situation like this, young man. I won’t turn down the escort, though. Give me an hour, and I’ll have this pirate ship underway. You can follow at your convenience from there.”

Marco took the hint. All around the pirate’s deck, there were people who had just gone through something major. He may have saved them from danger, but they still didn’t know him. As a new possible threat, they weren’t going to be comfortable until there was some distance between them.