The ship twirled through space, it’s bronze prow cutting through the aether; tiller brought about smoothly by an old hand. Hundreds of crystalline faeries danced and spun outside the portholes, thousands of glowing cilia beating against space as they gleaned energy from the sides of the ship. The captain motioned for the sails to be trimmed, and grimaced as a faerie burst against them. The telepathic cry caused everyone aboard the ship to pause for a moment and mourn the faeries loss.

The captain eyed the deckhand who had pulled the rope so carelessly, clockwork and gears meshing in agitation. “I’m sory capt’n.” the deckhand murmured as he looked at the floor ashamed. “I though she’d move…” he trailed off, knowing his excuses would fall on deaf ears. The captain marched toward him menacingly, but as he drew back his hand to strike the deckhand a call rang out from the crows nest.

“Capt’n! I can see the Wayward Ghost 20 klicks to larboard!”