The pale light of dawn crept across the Horizon Talon, illuminating the repaired aftcastle with a soft, golden glow. The makeshift patches were rough but solid, a testament to the crew’s hard work. Lt. Sarah Kade stood amid the activity, her sharp eyes scanning every knot, brace, and spar as the final preparations for departure came together.

  "Good work, Tarlow," she said, nodding at the young sailor adjusting the rigging. "But double-check those lines. You don’t want them slipping under strain." Her tone was firm but carried no edge, just the clear expectation of competence.

  "We don't know what we'll encounter on the way to Newport. Let’s do everything we can to ensure that we're prepared."

  Tarlow gave a quick nod. "Aye, ma’am."

  Kade passed between clusters of crew catching quick glances and clipped nods. They didn’t speak, but something in their posture shifted. Maybe they drew something from her calm. Or maybe they were just pretending as hard as she was.

  Captain Voss’s voice cut through the noise of the crew. "Bishop, cast us off."

  "Aye, Captain." He raised his voice to the crew. "Let’s move it, people! We’re off the clock when we’re underway."

  Kade smirked at the comment as she passed him. "Not bad, Bishop. Almost motivational."

  "Almost is all I aim for," he replied, deadpan. "Anything more would be excessive."

  She rolled her eyes with a small chuckle, then turned to check the repairs one last time. Voss joined her, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the harbor.

  "What’s your read on the crew?" Voss asked the pair.

  "They’re tired, but they’ll hold," Kade said. "They’ve been through hell, but they know what’s at stake. If we keep them focused and give them a reason to believe we’ll make it, they’ll give us everything they’ve got."

  Voss gave a nod. "Then it’s on us to make sure they do."

  The ship drifted from the dock, the rhythmic creak of the timbers mingling with the faint cries of gulls overhead. The sun was just cresting the horizon, the golden light spilling across the water like a quiet promise.

  "Keep us close to the shoreline," Voss said. "We’ll avoid deep-sea waters and monitor the mainland. Any scrap of information we can pick up might make the difference."

  "Should we double-staff the lookouts?" Bishop asked.

  "Absolutely," Voss said. "And one of us is on deck at all times. Kade, you’ll take the first shift."

  Kade quipped, "Understood, sir! But if you’re keeping me out here, Captain, I’ll expect breakfast by the time my shift’s over."

  "Let’s get to Newport alive," Bishop said, "and we’ll worry about breakfast."

  Kade shot him a grin. "Don’t let the thrill of survival keep you from enjoying the little things, Bishop."

  The Horizon Talon slipped past the last buoys of the harbor, the open sea shimmering ahead. Behind them, the remnants of a once-familiar world faded into the distance. Voss’s voice broke the quiet.

  "Steady as she goes. Let’s find our way. Kade, take the con."

  "Aye, Captain, I relieve you. I have the ship." Kade said.

  "I stand relieved. The ship is yours." Voss replied.

  With that, Bishop and the Captain took their leave. Kade stood at the aftcastle, watching the shoreline, zooming in on various details, using her eyepatch as they sailed by.

  The occasional clang of metal and flapping of sails echoed across the deck as Kade stood at the aftcastle rail, her gaze shifting occasionally to the forecastle. There, Maleko moved with all the confidence of someone who was the master of their domain, his voice low but firm as he guided Briggs and the Marines through the cannon drills. The Marines fumbled now and then, but they were catching on fast.

  Kade’s lips quirked in quiet approval. She wasn’t one for micromanaging, but respected efficiency when she saw it. Her hands tracked the wood grain around the rail as her thoughts shifted. Cross-training was critical. If they lost any of their cannoneers, these Marines might be their only line of defense. Every backup plan mattered now.

  The scent of coffee wafted through the salt air, and Kade turned to see Lt. Bishop approaching with a grin, carrying a steaming cup and a wrapped sandwich.

  "Thought you could use some caffeine," he said, handing them over. "Figured if I didn’t bring you something, you’d start eyeing the crew for breakfast."

  Kade chuckled, taking the cup. "Kind of you to save the crew from my wrath, Bishop. Or maybe you just didn’t want me stealing yours."

  "Can’t have my XO collapsing mid-shift," he quipped, leaning against the railing beside her. "Besides, I’m not the one with shiny new abilities. You’d probably wrestle me for it and win."

  Kade rolled her eyes but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she took a sip of coffee, savoring the warmth as she let her gaze drift back to the crew.

  "The Corsair class doesn’t make me invincible, you know. It’s about precision, speed, and perception. Helpful, but not a magic fix."

  Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Still, it’s a hell of a lot more glamorous than being stuck at 'commoner.' I get to sit on the boat and watch everyone else take all the risks. You? You get to play the ‘eye of the storm.’ Pretty poetic."

  "Poetic doesn’t keep people alive," Kade said. "The better I can anticipate threats, the better chance we all have to make it through this. That’s the only thing that matters."

  "Yeah, but don’t forget, you’re part of ‘all of us,’ Kade. You’re not invincible, class or no class."

  Before Kade could respond, Lawson’s voice cut in from behind them. "Are you two seriously having a heart-to-heart at this hour? Feels a little early for soul-searching."

  She turned to see the Marine lieutenant approaching, his jacket slightly askew and a mischievous glint in his eye.

  "Morning, Lawson. Shouldn’t you be down there, helping Briggs whip your people into shape?" She said, gesturing to where Briggs was running drills on the main deck.

  Lawson shrugged. "They’re doing fine without me. Besides, I wanted to see how the ‘eye of the storm’ was doing. Got to say, Kade, you’re really leaning into the role."

  Kade snorted, taking a bite of her sandwich. "It’s not a role, Lawson. It’s survival. You should try it sometime."

  "Oh, I’m surviving just fine. I’d argue I’m thriving," Lawson said with a grin. "Of course, my class doesn’t make me all-seeing and all-knowing. That’s a 'you' problem."

  Bishop chuckled. "That’s the real reason she’s quiet half the time. Too busy knowing everything."

  Kade raised an eyebrow at them both. "I’m quiet because chatterboxes surround me. Maybe I should find Briggs and borrow some of his discipline for you two."

  "All discipline and no play make Sarah a dull officer," Lawson said breezily, his grin fading just enough to let a more serious note enter his voice. "But in all seriousness. Kade, with you being one of the first ones with a class, the crew is looking at you like you’ve got all the answers. Even more so than they normally did with you as XO. Don’t burn yourself out trying to live up to that."

  Kade paused. "I don’t have all the answers. But I’ll be damned if I stop looking for them."

  "Besides, you have a class now, too. You're in that same circle."

  "Not really. I'm not in most of these folks' chain of command. They view me and my men as the pointy end of the stick. Plus, most of the Marines received classes yesterday. There are some interesting ones in there; we'll want to sit down and discuss how that adjusts our tactics and some individual's MOS," Lawson responded.

  The three officers stood silently momentarily, the weight of their shared responsibility settling over them. Below, the rhythmic clatter of drills continued a steady reminder of the work ahead.

  "Right," Kade said finally, straightening. "Lawson, get back to your Marines. Bishop, can you make sure the crow's nest is still double-staffed? I thought I only saw one a bit ago. And me? I’m going to keep us alive long enough to see what’s over the next horizon."

  "Bossy," Lawson said as he turned away, but there was a note of respect in his voice.

  Bishop grinned. "You wouldn’t have it any other way."

  The coastline continued to drift past in fractured silence, a canvas of destruction that spoke louder than any words could. From her vantage point on the aftcastle, Sarah scanned the horizon, her enhanced vision catching every detail. Blackened skeletons of buildings leaning precariously over crumbled streets, ships marooned in fields of mud where water once flowed, and fires still smoldering in the distance. The unmistakable forms of monsters were roaming among the wreckage. Rodentia scurrying in packs, a hulking, mutated bear lumbering over the ruins, and shadowy figures that seemed to dissolve into the smoke the moment you tried to focus on them.

  The faint cry of gulls overhead only heightened the surreal landscape.

  Kade glanced to the lookout nearest her, a young crewman with a set jaw and wide eyes fixed on the shore. His knuckles were white on the railing. Beside him, another lookout muttered under their breath, their words snatched away by the wind.

  Her attention shifted back to the shoreline as movement caught her eye. Two groups of monsters. One a skittering mass of rodentia, the other a cluster of lanky, shadowed forms, collided in a sudden frenzy. Squeals and guttural roars carried faintly over the water. It wasn’t a battle for dominance or territory. It was something messier, more primal. Neither side seemed capable of understanding anything beyond destruction.

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  "They’re fighting each other," the young lookout said, his voice cracking slightly.

  "They’re predators," Kade replied calmly, keeping her voice even. "Same instincts. Same aggression drive."

  She sipped her coffee, the warmth grounding her as her thoughts strayed. For a fleeting moment, she wasn’t on the Horizon Talon. She was a kid again, sitting on a weather-worn dock in Nantucket. The ocean had been her playground then, not a battleground. She and her sister would fish off the dock, racing to see who could catch the biggest one. Her sister always won.

  A pang of longing twisted in her chest. Was her sister okay? Was she alive? What remained of Nantucket? Kade forced herself to exhale slowly, pressing those thoughts into a box she didn’t have time to open.

  "Morning update should come in anytime now," someone called from the deck below.

  Kade braced herself mentally. Whatever the numbers were, she didn’t need to hear them to know the story they told. Every day, the number of people decreases. Fewer people are available to fight. Fewer souls to hold on to.

  Greetings, Players! Congratulations on making it through the fifth planetary cycle of the Simulation reboot. You will be happy to know that the level zero protocols are working as intended and the global player population is adjusting toward the accepted upper limits of the Simulation. Previous player population: 1,315,468,789 Human. Current player population: 1,121,915,833 Human. No player data for additional player species is available.

  "That’s it, then," the first lookout said, his voice trembling. "We’re all that’s left. The rest of the world’s just… gone."

  Kade turned toward him, her gaze steady. "Hey."

  Her tone carried the weight of command, but also something softer, something human. The lookout hesitated, reluctantly meeting her eyes.

  "It’s not gone. Not yet."

  "Look at it," he said, gesturing toward the shore. "How do we even fight this? It’s too big. Too broken. We’re just one ship."

  "Exactly," Kade said. "One ship. And that’s enough. Because this crew, this ship, is what’s standing between survival and what you see over there. You think it’s hopeless because you’re looking at everything that’s lost. Stop. Look at what we still have."

  He didn’t answer immediately, but she could see his shoulders relax slightly, the tension easing. Another lookout chimed in, their voice wavering but determined. "Yeah, and I’d rather be on the Horizon Talon than stuck back there. At least here, we’ve got a shot."

  "That’s right," Kade said. "We don’t survive by worrying about how big the problem is. We survive by working together, by watching each other’s backs, and by remembering why we’re out here. Glory isn't our motivation. We do this because it matters."

  The first lookout swallowed hard, his expression still conflicted, but calmer now. "Aye, ma’am."

  "Good," Kade said firmly. "Now keep your focus. The deep sea might be worse than the shore."

  That brought a small laugh from the second lookout. "You think we’ll see any krakens?"

  Kade smirked. "If we do, let’s hope they’re full from breakfast."

  The small, shared chuckle rippled across the aftcastle, easing the tension just enough. Kade stayed silent for a moment, letting them settle back into their work.

  Her gaze returned to the shoreline, where the monster skirmish had ended, leaving only smears of motionless carnage behind. She took another sip of her coffee, the bitter taste grounding her. The memory of Nantucket lingered at the edges of her mind, a faint echo of warmth in a world gone cold.

  The cacophony of the crew quieted, replaced by the steady creak of the ship’s timbers and the rustle of the sails.

  The call from the crow’s nest split the air, sharp and urgent. "Unusual object off the port bow. Near the shoreline!"

  Kade’s head snapped up. Zooming in with her eyepatch, she scanned for whatever the crow's nest had spotted. It resolved slowly through the morning haze. A massive structure jutting out of the shallow waters like the broken spine of a long-dead beast. Metallic, unmistakably artificial. She frowned, tilting her head to follow the lines of its twisted frame. A jetliner. Or what remained of one. Its wings were gone, its fuselage bent at unnatural angles, and its tail jutted skyward like a memorial no one had erected.

  Her jaw tightened as she scanned the wreckage. It was far too late to hope for survivors in the water, but it could hold clues as to if there were nearby survivors of the initial crash or even if other people had come by to investigate the crash.

  "Navigator, adjust our heading. Let’s take a closer look."

  The crew stayed focused on their duties, though a subdued tension blanketed the deck. No one spoke. Kade stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the wreckage as they approached. Each wave brought the Horizon Talon closer to the shoreline and the grotesque shadow of the past. The salty breeze carried a faint tang of decay.

  The lookout was the first to speak. "Ma’am…" His voice faltered. "I… think it’s bodies."

  Kade didn’t respond. Her eyepatch confirmed it. Tangled shapes wedged in the gaps of the fuselage, barely distinguishable but undeniably human, or what had once been human. Jagged metal draped some, while others lay scattered like broken dolls in the shallow water. The stench hit next, faint but unmistakable.

  "Navigator, resume our previous course."

  "But…" a voice started behind her. She turned, cutting the retort off with a glance.

  "There’s nothing here for us," she said firmly. "We don’t waste time chasing ghosts. Eyes forward. We have a mission."

  The ship veered away, leaving the jetliner and its grisly contents to sink back into the mist. Kade turned to the crewman she had been helping through their existential crisis with moments before, noting the pallor in his face. She rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, her voice softening. "You all right?"

  He hesitated, then shook his head. "How… how do we even begin to fix this, ma’am? It’s everywhere. Everything."

  Kade paused, letting his words settle in the air. Around them, the crew worked in silence, their movements more mechanical now, their earlier resolve shaken. She glanced back at the shoreline, then to the young sailor.

  "As we discussed, we don’t fix everything," she said finally. "We fix what’s in front of us. This ship. These people. You keep your focus here, and we keep moving forward. That’s how we survive. That’s how we make it matter. Then we fix the next thing we can and the next. We maintain our humanity and help lift everyone we can."

  Another crew member, overhearing, chimed in. "At least we’re still afloat. That’s more than those poor bastards can say."

  The small, bitter laugh that followed that bit of gallows humor was a defense mechanism, but Kade didn’t reprimand it. She understood the need to release the pressure, to let the grim reality dissipate even for a moment.

  Her gaze swept over the deck, settling briefly on each crew member. Though shaken, they still stood. Still working. Still alive. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

  "Let’s stay that way," she said firmly, "Eyes on the horizon."

  A faint chorus of "Aye, ma’am" followed. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough.

  As the Horizon Talon sailed back into open waters, the shadow of the jetliner faded behind them, swallowed by the fog. Kade didn’t look back. Instead, she kept her eyes forward, scanning the horizon with quiet determination.

  The rest of the day passed without incident until early evening. Cliffs just outside of Newport loomed like jagged sentinels over the narrow stretch of sea, their shadows casting the Horizon Talon in an uneasy gloom. Kade stood at the aftcastle, her attention being split between the sheer rock walls and the restless waters. The passage was treacherous. Rocks hid beneath the surface, and the cliffs pressed so close they seemed eager to crush the ship between their jagged edges. She tapped her fingers on the rail, her mind cycling through contingencies.

  The shout came from above. "Contact on the cliffs. Port side!"

  A giant, its hulking form almost blending into the gray stone, rose from a shadowed crevice. Its leathery skin showed streaks of moss and dirt, and it gripped a boulder the size of a ship's mast. With a primal roar, it hurled the rock toward the Horizon Talon.

  "Hard to starboard!" Kade barked.

  The helmsman responded instantly, the ship heaving as the crew scrambled to adjust the sails. The boulder splashed into the sea, sending a wave crashing over the deck. Kade barely registered the cold spray as she assessed the giant’s position, her focus narrowing like a blade.

  "Cannons ready!" she shouted toward the forecastle.

  The crew responded instantly. Crossbow bolts streaked toward the cliffs, a distraction more than anything, as one of the forecastle cannons swiveled into position. The gunnery team worked swiftly, their movements a blur of training and muscle memory.

  The giant roared again, its eyes blazing with fury as it reached for another boulder. A deafening crack echoed through the cliffs as the cannon fired. The shot hit the giant squarely in the chest, staggering it but not stopping its attack.

  "Reload!" came the shout from the gunnery crew, but the crew working beside them was already on it. A clever change to the elevation, another calculated shot, and this time, the cannonball struck something vital. The giant’s head snapped back, the impact silencing its roar in an instant. The massive form teetered before crashing into the sea with a thunderous splash.

  Kade let out a slow exhale. That could have been bad, she thought. She turned to the crew on the forecastle, her tone dry but edged with grim satisfaction. "Turns out, no matter how much health you’ve got, a cannonball to the head will still kill you."

  A ripple of strained laughter swept across the deck, breaking some of the tension. The crew quickly resumed their tasks, securing the ship and preparing to navigate the rest of the passage. Kade scanned the cliffs, her eyes narrowing as she checked for any additional threats. The rocks remained silent, their grim faces unyielding.

  "Helm, steady as she goes," she called, stepping back toward the center of the deck. "Ensign, let the Captain know we'll arrive in Newport shortly."

  "Yes, Ma'am!" a nearby ensign replied, snapping off a quick salute before running off.

  It had been a long day, and the sun dipped low on the horizon, streaking the sky with crimson and gold as the Horizon Talon approached Newport’s battered docks. The facility looked like it had seen its share of hell. Damaged buildings clung stubbornly to the shoreline while smaller ships lay splintered and half-submerged in the shallow waters around the harbor. Every visible surface bore the scars of a recent battle.

  A small sailboat detached itself from the harbor, its single sail catching the last light as it cut through the waves toward them. It was a relic compared to the Talon, but it looked to be filling the role of patrol boat for the harbor. A signal flag rose along its mast, followed quickly by the visual communication of the boat's semaphore commanding the Horizon Talon to stand fast and prepare to be boarded.

  "Old-school SMC protocol," Bishop muttered as he cleared the last step to the aftcastle. "Didn’t think anyone still used that."

  "It's not like they can radio over," Kade responded.

  She watched the sailboat close the distance. On its deck, figures frantically moved about. They had the look of men and women trying to project strength they didn’t truly feel. The tiny ship was no match for the Horizon Talon, and both crews knew it.

  "They’re nervous," Captain Voss said, stepping up beside her. "And they have every right to be."

  The two vessels drifted closer, and Kade caught glimpses of weapons being readied on the sailboat’s deck. Crossbows drawn, hands gripping blades. She didn’t need to look behind her to know that her own crew had responded in kind. The Talon’s gunners stood poised at the forecastle cannons, and crossbowmen lined the railings, their presence deliberate but measured.

  A voice called from the sailboat as they came within hailing distance. "You are entering Newport waters. State your business and prepare to be boarded!"

  Voss stepped forward to the edge of the aftcastle, his voice firm but calm as it carried over the water. "This is Lt. Commander Harold Voss of the Horizon Talon. Sovereign Maritime Corps." He let the title hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "We’ve come to aid Newport under SMC directives. I’ll need to speak to whoever’s in command at the docks."

  The response came quickly, almost defensively. "No one’s docking at Newport! Orders from command. We experienced an attack days ago. Another ship, flying a pirate flag with red streamers off the yardarm, left us in ruins. We can’t risk another fight."

  Kade’s breath caught at the description. Naomi Darkmor. Her thoughts flashed to the Widow’s Grin, its crimson banners etched into her memory like scars. Voss’s posture stiffened ever so slightly, but his tone remained measured.

  "We know the Widow’s Grin," Voss said, "We fought her, too, just yesterday ago. We’ve seen what she can do."

  The sailboat crew hesitated, exchanging glances. Their weapons remained drawn, but the tension shifted. Kade took a step forward, her voice sharp and clear. "We just cleared out the giant that was lobbing boulders at anyone approaching your harbor. If we meant you harm, we wouldn’t be talking right now."

  A figure on the sailboat’s deck stepped closer to the railing, their stance less combative now. "You killed the giant?"

  Voss gave a curt nod. "We’re not here to make things worse. We’re here to help. But to do that, I need to see your commanding officer."

  The silence between the two ships stretched, the tension palpable. Finally, the sailboat’s captain lowered his hand, signaling to his crew to stand down. The weapons lowered slowly, the unease not entirely gone but tempered by the shared understanding of a common enemy.

  "Very well," the sailboat captain called back. "We’ll escort you to the docks. But don’t make us regret it."

  "Understood," Voss replied.

  He turned back toward Kade and Bishop. "Get us ready to dock."

  "Lawson, get your men ready, but do it quietly. I'm not expecting this to go poorly, but I don't want to be caught with our pants down either," he said quietly, his voice meant only for the three officers standing with him.

  "Yes, sir," Lawson responded before casually walking off so as not to attract attention.

  Kade nodded, stepping into action as the Horizon Talon began its slow approach toward Newport. The sailboat fell into formation beside them, a fragile shield against a world that offered no certainties.

  As the docks came into sharper view, Kade could see why they were so nervous. Someone had erected a small fortified position, but cannon fire had clearly smashed it. This was not a stronghold where the Talon could find refuge. No, this group of SMC survivors needed the Horizon Talon to rescue them.

  releasing every Tuesday and Friday. You can count on regular updates as the Horizon Talon sails forward.

  check out The Grand Crusade. It is another story set in the Surviving the Simulation universe. Same world with a completely different cast, fresh challenges, and a new perspective on survival after the Simulation reboot.

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