There was a moment of silence as Uban stood on the deck, holding the misshapen sparkler over the water. Hana scratched an itch on her leg. Pieter blew his nose into a rag. There was a brief crackle of lightning, and the ball exploded. Hana wasn't much of an expert when it came to packing munitions, and she was relieved that instead of explosive shrapnel tearing everyone apart, a puff of white smoke wafted away. 

Hana smiled and clapped her hands together, "Well, that was exciting. Shall we move on?"

---

The curse throbbed, and Wheel's vision blacked out. Grinding the heel of his hand against his eyes, the sight of Berlin's concerned face swam into focus. 

"I'm fine." He snapped, "Don't touch me." Straightening up, he flicked the butt of the cigarette into the water. 

"I'll attend to the ship, Captain." He said as he quickly walked away, his head aching.