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On Patrol: Weathering the First Storm

“Well that explains a lot.” Firus mused. “I wondered why you were staying so close to me. I thought you were afraid.”

“I am afraid.” I said, pacing back and forth in the cramped quarters of the armory. “I’m afraid that someone is going to put a knife in you when I’m not around. My duties as quartermaster will take me out of your presence from time to time- that’s why I want to-”

Firus held up a hand to forestall anything else I had to say. “Let me make it perfectly clear that I don’t need bodyguards, not on me own ship anyway.”

“Are you sure? Knowing that, I’d like to reiterate something I asked you the first time I met you. Do you trust every man aboard with your life?”

Firus didn’t hesitate. “I do. I hired each man myself. You’re the newest addition and while I can’t truly know the measure of a man until he’s weathered his first storm, I’ve a good eye for folk.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “I was only wrong once.”

I resolved to ask him about that some other time.

“So what’s the plan, Captain?”

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