Berlin didn’t speak for a while. He stood as if in a parade rest, hands behind his back and his feet slightly parted, looking thoughtfully out to sea. Wheel raised some good points. They were only six after all, and the Barizians were many. Any of them, even Rohaan, could be overrun by sheer numbers, though they all stood a better chance than most. He sighed. Berlin wanted an assured answer to give to his crew, but he frankly didn’t have one. They’d never planned an assault this large before and their normal, casual tactics wouldn’t apply here. Normally they could sack any ship they felt inclined to, or at least sink it. But this would be different. 

“I’m not decided yet,” he said honestly. Wheel wasn’t the sort who liked dancing around truths anyway. “I want the lad to scout out late tonight, see what we’re up against. According to Pieter and Uban there’s nine ships, one of them larger than the others. But that’s all I know for certain. The lad will tell me what this island is like and where they’re situated. But I think a frontal assault is not the best way to start things off. It will probably end that way, but I think we need to be careful in how we approach. I don’t want to give them time to prepare, so stealth is of the utmost importance. We’ll strike at night for sure. But I think…” he tapped his lips absently. “I think our best weapon here is chaos. I want to cause as much as possible. Rheoaan can provide fire—nothing breaks ranks like fire. But I have…other things planned. Well trained men can deal with fire. They can deal with cannons. They can deal with a man coming at them with a sword. But there are some things you can’t train for…” he looked at his hands, then back up at Wheel and said frankly, his voice hard and resolute, “I’m going to make them kill their own captains, and then each other. It draws fire away from us and dwindles their number at the same time it cuts off their leadership. It means I’ll leave the ship in command of Pieter and Hana and lead the attack. Rheoaan can bring me in close and keep me moving and once the alarm is sounded, we begin the attack in earnest. That, at least, is my thought on it, but I welcome your input.”

—

Cat-Rohaan offered only a purring meow in reply, a bubbling, “Bbrrreeoow” as he closed his eyes and leaned into Pieter’s hand. Truthfully he was too tired and sore to cause much trouble and whether it was because he was currently a cat or because he really was that tired, part of him wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. He put that aside as a future option as he watched Uban and Hana work. A soft scraping noise came from the barrel’s surface as his little claws raked it with kneading paws. 

—

“Chain it?” He couldn’t help but still be grinning, though some of his jubilance faded along with his confidence at that. “Well..I don’t know. I guess I’ve never tried. Maybe ah, let’s try a smaller scale version. Instead of firing them at full speed maybe we start by just tossing them up? This might take a few tries…” 

He was right about that. Even at a slower speed he struggled to get the lightning to connect from one to the other. He could hit one perfectly, and on the next round he was able to hit the other, but both? It didn’t seem impossible. Uban compared it to learning a language—the words were out there, he just didn’t know what they were yet. He had to think of how to ‘phrase’ it, how to will the energy to do what he wanted. After a few more tries he managed to get both lit at the same time, though the lightning didn’t connect. 

His eyes were a bright gold and the stray strands of hair that wandered out of his ponytail began to stick to his forehead and the sweat that beaded there. But he was determined. He could see where she was going with this and, if they managed it, it would be incredibly useful. If only he could get it.  With the other things he’d tried, it had come so quickly; one or two failed attempts and he had it. But this eluded him. He was making progress, which was the only reason he didn’t write it off as impossible, but his exuberance gave way to frustration as he tried, failed, and repeated. But finally, sweaty and short of breath, he had a breakthrough.  The lightning hit one ball and then moved over to the other almost lazily, leaving a trail of squirming bolts behind it, though the arc did not stay. 

“This time! I think I’ve got it this time. I think I understand how it works….” He wished he could describe how it worked, but he wasn’t really sure himself. He just had abstract feelings of a connection, a link between him, the objects, and the lightning. A few deep breaths, a moment of focus, and then he nodded. The balls were tossed into the air once more and this time, blessedly, the arc jumped from his hand to one ball, then arced across to the other and stayed, forming a bridge between them. However, as the balls traveled at slightly different angles, they began to move further away from each other and as they did, the arc between them split and withdrew back towards each ball separately.

“YES!” He bellowed, relieved that he’d actually managed it. For one thing, he wanted to prove he could. But he was also getting tired. “There’s a problem though, if they’re too far apart, more than two feet or so, I can’t hold the arc between them. It just breaks. It’s like there’s too much space to fill and not enough….’stuff’ to fill it.”