Heath spared a momentary thought for trying to find some dirt. If any existed it was deep in the center of the jungle. A region only cleared for Classers level 100 and above. In a century, he could come back and add it to his collection.

  Until then, it was time to clean. With a small crew, of which only three had any version of the [Ship Maintenance] Skill, it was a constant chore to keep everything tidy. How they generated that much dust and dirt with just the five of them, Heath didn’t know. But he made sure they kept up a rotation anyway.

  Starting at one end of the ship, Heath spent mana to clear out the dust, sending it to wherever it all went after the Skill was used. It was boring work, only slightly alleviated by the audiobook mystery he asked Loon to play over the ship’s speakers in the rooms he was in. The scent alone would have driven him mad if he hadn't spent years going nose blind to it. Orange and stacil flowers, he would gladly be banning both from his ship just as soon as he finished.

  Arguably they didn’t need such a frequent schedule. At least Copperfield made the argument every time it was his turn, but Heath refused to relax it. Uncle Walt had kept the Loon gleaming while it was his, and Heath would do the same.

  The commitment was paying dividends. [Ship Maintenance] had shot up, though the growth had slowed back down again after a few levels. There was only so much to gain from routine cleaning.

  But the higher levels let him notice something as he cleaned an access hatch. He glanced around to be sure Ekaterina wasn’t lurking, but the noble hadn’t stopped her practice of staying mostly confined to her bunk.

  “Loon. What’s going on in the propulsion system?”

  “Worry not, Heath. The stress of the more complicated jumps in rapid succession had been adding to wear faster than my natural regeneration accounts for. However we are within tolerable levels.

  Another application of [Ship Maintenance] was done so fast Heath barely registered the decision until mana flooded out of him. His pool bottomed out almost immediately, and he had to lean on the wall for support lest he find himself on the floor. Though the floor looked comfy enough as he slid down to a seated position.

  “Heath!” The Loon’s panicked shout kept him from dozing off.

  “M’alright.” He said. Or tried to. He did manage a thumbs up, which was enough to stop the ship from summoning the rest of the crew. A few minutes later he was able to think again.

  “Did it help?”

  The ship sighed. Which was ridiculous on a being without lungs. “Indeed. The slight wear has been significantly reversed.”

  “Not solved then?” Heath was disappointed in himself. That was what [Ship Maintenance] was for, after all. The cleaning was more of a side effect than anything else. Keeping systems up and running by filling in some of the gaps with mana was the entire basis of the Skill. Nothing would replace true repair or specialized Skills, but every bit helped.

  “You know as I do that most Captains achieve the Class upon their transition into rank two or even three. The mana pool of someone with such stats can naturally extend much further. But even this much has made a difference Heath, and I thank you for it.

  “But I must also ask you to refrain from repeating such for several days until you are fully recovered.”

  “My mana isn’t that slow to regen, I could probably go again in a few hours.”

  “As one who safeguards beings of flesh, I have taken it upon myself to research. Your mana pool will recover, but the trauma of rapidly achieving full depletion is not so easy to shake. No more until we have left the Trellis system. I must insist.”

  Heath wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience anyway. “If that’s what you want, Loon. Just please add ‘beings of flesh’ to the list of phrases we should never speak again.”

  “Very well. And may I suggest a nap.”

  That sounded perfect. He stumbled into his bunk and slept for ten hours straight before he got back up and made his way to the bridge in preparation for their next jump.

  *******

  “All crew to stations.” The sound of his own voice echoing throughout the Loon was still novel, even after months of being the Captain.

  He could hear everyone on board following the order. Emerald and Jenny Mae arrived on the bridge. To Heath’s slight surprise, Ekaterina joined them, strapping into one of the seats without comment. Though he supposed sitting in one’s cabin during an emergency must be a nightmare. That wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have right then, and he went back to the information coming through his station.

  From the sounds he could hear, and confirmed by the Loon, Copperfield was stationed in the hold. With the dampeners upgrade they could take the jumps without strapping in, and spread the crew around in a more useful configuration.

  “On screen feed.” He said.

  The Loon compiled, and a view of the ship's surroundings came on screen. The image resolved and zoomed in on the nearest patch of vines. They watched as a small skiff got ripped apart where it moved too close to the roiling vegetation.

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  “Fuck.” Heath toggled the screen to zoom in.

  Escape pods were fleeing towards the rest of the defenders, but even as they watched, another two were torn to shreds.

  “Is that normal?” Jenny Mae’s voice trembled but nothing else displayed any signs of fear.

  “No it fucking isn’t,” Emerald said. They were scanning the readouts being broadcast around the gate. “High volatility out of nowhere, starting fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Shit. We aren’t prepared for that. Jenny Mae, what do our options look like for a strategic retreat?”

  “Ah, not good. Change view.”

  The screen flickered and they saw the path behind them, where a surge of growth was rapidly filling what had been empty space an hour before. A quick flick of his wrist magnified the view, and he saw what had caused the change.

  Monsters. Tangles of intelligent vines, along with what passed for insects on a quick inspection, and which revealed themselves as horrific amalgamations of vegetation and crystal on a deeper look.

  “The nearest dungeon must have broken off-cycle,” Heath said.

  “The Gate Guard is calling for any combatants to get out there and for anyone else to get the fuck out.” Emerald was rapidly pulling up and dismissing sensor readings as they fought for a clearer picture of what was going on.

  “That’s us. Loon, top accel towards the gate. This fight is beyond us.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The ever-present whir of the engine got louder for a moment as the Loon pushed everything into propulsion systems. The view once more changed, with the Loon helpfully highlighting everyone fighting the jungle in blue and the identified monsters in red. The red glow took up half the screen.

  “Come on, come on,” Heath said under his breath. His foot tapped against the floor in an agitated rhythm. Another reason they needed to start delving. They were helpless out here, running away from the problem as stronger Classers died around them.

  “Loon, play this out loud!” Emerald shouted.

  All at once a transmission sounded throughout the ship. “Focus on the higher rank monsters will remain. For the lessers we will be letting them through. I repeat, expect contact with low-rank monsters.”

  “Fuck!” Heath swore again. At the situation itself, but more so at his own inability to do anything useful.

  “Copperfield –”

  “Heard it Cap, suiting up now.”

  Now turned out to be too late. With a jolt that shook the whole ship, and a shriek of scraping metal, the danger arrived.

  “Status!”

  “Hull integrity holding, Captain. Under these conditions, 25 minutes until potential breach.” The Loon’s calm tone belied the situation. They were flying faster than most of the other ships running towards the gate, dodging monsters where they propelled themselves through space, and vines the size of buildings that the monsters’ magic were pulling along with them.

  As they ducked between two of the massive fronds, another crash shuddered through the ship.

  “Updated estimate, 20 minutes.”

  “Copperfield, get your ass outside! Loon, I’m taking manual control.”

  “Cycling the airlock now.”

  The screen in front of Heath split in half as their Swashbuckler went to work. On one side remained the large-scale map, with the Loon inching closer to safety. The other displayed the hull.

  Betsy was not a pretty girl. Copperfield’s mech suit was cobbled together from scraps, that much was clear. Different pieces had clashing alloys, making it look like a patchwork quilt was draped over the humanoid battle device.

  They also got a close-up of the monsters. It looked like a mass of writhing snakes, though Heath knew it would be filled with sap and water, not blood and muscle. The ends of each whip-like limb glowed a dangerous green.

  For a moment Heath considered pulling Copperfield back. This thing could damage the Loon’s hull. It would rip through the mech like tissue paper. He held the crazed idea inside. This was what it meant to be Captain. Directing others to take the risk and trusting them to get the job done.

  His own job was clear. More monsters were chasing them every moment, and Heath’s piloting would need to keep them off. Without flinging a member of his crew into space.

  Copperfield raced towards the dungeon-born monster. Or, more accurately, he waddled. Betsy was not built for speed.

  When he closed the distance, a blade slid out from the right arm. It was a perfect replica of the one the former pirate carried around, scaled up for the armor. That was the point of a mech. The magitech contraptions would amplify the Skills for whoever wore them. For a price. None of the amplification was perfect, and Copperfield’s mana was finite. Judging by the state of the mech, if they got through this, Betsy would need maintenance as well. Heath would happily pay for it if they all made it through.

  The monster struck. Vines whipped towards the mech, the glow on the other tips dimming as the two streaking at Copperfield went white-hot. The Classer managed to dodge back, just enough for the first vine to whip by, and slice off the second with the edge of the blade.

  The monster reared back, as if surprised its prey dared try to harm it. Then it tried again. Copperfield had moved to the side for a different angle, but a globe of swirling vines didn’t have a front and back like he did. More of the limbs arrowed towards him.

  The cycle repeated, each time the monster attacked, Copperfield would snag one of the vines. It was a good strategy, but it was taking too long. The mild acid in the monster’s sap was still eating into the hull, leaking from every severed limb, and the other was still happily attacking away on the other side of the ship.

  Heath was about to interrupt and tell Copperfield they had to move it, when the Swashbuckler changed tactics. In a stumbling run, he moved in and punted at the monster, hitting center mass with his kick. The force behind it launched the beast off the ship and out of their hair.

  “Well done, Copperfield, now we just –”

  Heath was cut off when another pair of thuds announced more monsters.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” The words were confident but he could hear the strain in his combat specialist’s voice. Three on one was too much.

  And these ones were smart. Or smarter. They two new vine monsters were clomping towards the spot where the first had been merrily attacking away, teaming up to eat through the hull faster.

  “Captain. Hull integrity breach likely in 8 minutes. Five before we will need repairs in order to safely jump.”

  “What options do we have? Anyone? We have a couple of suits we could use, go out there and start shooting.” He twitched the controls as he spoke, taking them wide of another ship’s battle for survival amidst their own swarm.

  “Captain, I must remind you that those suits are for maintenance while in stable orbit or stationary. They are not rated for high speed flight or combat. The attachment magnets and backup enchantments will fail at this speed.”

  “Right. Other ideas?”

  A monster exploded.

  The farthest from where Copperfield was advancing, it still splattered the mech and hull in a green goo.

  “What the…”

  Heath trailed off when the source of the destruction became apparent. Ekaterina was breathing heavily, eyes closed and face covered in sweat as she chanted under her breath. Her staff had appeared in her hands, the top crystal now a jet black and glowing with an eerie light. Black shouldn’t be able to glow but that was the last thing on his priority list.

  He watched as the crystal pulsed and then whipped around to the view screen to see the second new monster explode.

  Their unwilling guest slumped over. “I’m out.”

  “Ahhh!” Copperfield let out a battlecry. Taking advantage of the distraction Ekaterina had caused, he charged straight at the final monster.

  The thing didn’t go down without a fight. Deep gouges appeared on the mech’s surface, but the risky strategy paid off. It died and Copperfield tossed the remains off the hull.

  On screen the gate loomed. And by the luck of all the gods, nothing blocked their way.

  “Copperfield, get back in the lock! We’re not slowing down. Loon, prep for jump at max accel.”

  On the map he watched as more of the red dots darted for them, desperate to pillage the sacks of argo that the Loon and its passengers represented. Or perhaps just bloodthirsty enough not to allow an escape.

  “All aboard prepare for jump in five, four, three, two…”

  And then they were gone.