Rohaan's stomach twisted. That was a new feeling for him in a situation like this, as he usually relished a good skirmish at sea. Not like Wheel did, where it was a flood of pleasure and relief, but he liked the chaos. He liked seeing the faces of overconfident naval captains crumble into fear. He liked feeling important, useful, and part of the crew--like he finally had a place in this crazy world. He loved showing arrogant, hurtful people why it was foolish to ever cross a Vokurian. And most of all, he loved ripping apart slaver ships. Whenever they came across them, Berlin did not restrain Rohaan as much as he usually did. Fire was fair game. Tearing holes in the ship was fair game. Or, if the ship appeared to carry recent slaves, Rohaan would infiltrate while Wheel wreaked havoc above deck and free the prisoners, allowing them to have a fighting chance at escape. Once, there were so many that Berlin actually let the prisoners board and carried them to shore. They didn't do that often, as they often didn't have the room or stores for them. 

But this time, Rohaan was nervous as he perched up in the crow's nest, cloak unclasped and gathered at his feet. He wished he knew why. He didn't want to admit it to anyone either. He was young. But he refused to be weak. Maybe, he thought to himself, it was because the last time they engaged, he was shot. Rohaan had been injured many times before, though never like that, and he'd never come that close to death. Still, he was glad no one could see him up there, little hands gripping the rope net and metal hoop that formed the structure of the crows nest until they were white.

Uban tested the dagger he was handed with a quick spin, then inspected the pistol routinely. Clean, dry, loaded. Good. He had half a mind to go put on his boots before a potential fight, but decided he didn't want to be caught lacing his boots when the fighting happened. He'd do without. So instead, he paced along the gunnel, feet barely making a sound against the well-kept wood.

Berlin could not see the approaching ship, and neither could Uban. It was a dark night, and he did not have curse-aided vision or Vokurian eyes (which were much sharper than his even without turning into a hawk or an owl). But soon he could hear them. The distant slap of oars hitting the surface of the sea and the muffled banging of a cadence drum. A galley was about the only kind of ship that could out maneuver the Borealis if the wind wasn't favorable, but that hardly mattered to Berlin. If they could not out-maneuver, they would attack. And no one to date had fared well against a seaward attack from the Borealis and her deadly crew. Still, something held him back. Instinct, perhaps. Galleys were sometimes slaver ships, but not always. On some occasions they were passenger ships for the wealthy, using manpower instead of just the wind to ensure speed. Sometimes they belonged to ambassadors, or even various navies throughout Carisia. Berlin might have been a pirate, but he was a discriminate one and did not attack every ship he came across. Some deserved it, others were better left alone. He wanted to know for sure that this one was a slaver ship before attacking. Besides, it was late, and if this ship wasn't going to engage, he didn't feel like it either.

The crew watched. Waited. Paced. The unmarked vessel paddled past them maybe a hundred yards away, never once turning toward them. And then the sound of the drums faded, as did the white reflection of the moon in their wake. Finally, Berlin gave the call. "All hands, at ease. We could go after them...but I'd rather not. Not right now. But...Even though we just docked, I'd like to head landward again, but from the direction they came. I've got a gut feeling that some information might be helpful. Rheoaan! Come down from there, I don't want you hauling on ropes just yet. Uban will take your place. Hanabaptiste!" His voice projected well without being a shout, and she was able to hear it from below. When she came, he asked, "This seems as good a time as any to practice your skills as a weathermage. Can you summon a westerly  wind? I'd like to make good time."