The clipper had ceased its movement. Nature had snapped her sails and cracked her hull. Had made the emergency wards light up the sky in distress, while the anti-leak wards seemed to do nothing at all.
Fuck, Val thought, before springing into action.
"Pilot, bring us along the Rorqual! Cut across the Bitch if you have to! Port one-five-zero!"
"Will'so!" the pangolkin man shouted, wasting no time to start turning the wheel.
"Signal the Bitch not to help us," she shouted to the bosun. Jumping down, she ran one deck below, bellowing with enhanced volume, "All magics, prepare to rescue! Cargo priority!"
