Expedition Open Side Adventure The Urk Expedition: A Crack in the Works

[SwifttailTheFox]

The cold had crept into the Golden Hide like a thief in the night. By dawn, the rigging was stiff with frost and the sea smoked like a great cauldron. Below deck, beasts huddled nearer to stove pipes, wrapped in threadbare cloaks.

Swifttail was less than thrilled to be the one hauling coal.

"You're light, quick, and expendable," the quartermaster had said with a grin, ruffling Swift’s ears like he was a kit. "Perfect for the bunkers."

He grumbled all the way down the companionways, clutching an empty coal scuttle and ducking past lantern-lit corridors. The deeper he went, the hotter it became. The air thickened with the iron tang of hot metal and acrid smoke. It was as if the ship had a second heart below the waterline, a fiery, pounding core of pistons and steam.

He stepped into the engine hold.

There it was, crouched like a gutted beast at the ship’s belly: the auxiliary steam engine. An old Planet-type, repurposed from land to sea. The Ministry called it “a proof of concept.” The crew called it “the furnace” or “the monster in the pit.”

Swifttail stared at it for a moment. It still looked like a railway engine, even stripped of all but one of the wheels and crammed into a bulkhead of bolted steel. Fyadoran, unmistakably. Reclaimed after the war for exploitation and study under the Imperium's Ministry of Innovation.

The Golden Hide sailed on scavenged brilliance.

He padded toward the coal bins, casting a glance toward the great tangle of piping as he passed. The engineers were already deep in discussion, and while they didn’t address him directly, it was clear he wasn’t being hidden from. Rugg, Kip, and Verrin spoke openly, knowing he could hear. He was an apprentice under both Rugg and Verrin now, and they expected him to listen. So he did.

"It’s gettin’ bad," Kip said, voice pinched with nerves. "That feed pipe is just barely hangin’ on."

"It wasn’t built for seawater," Rugg replied, his voice like worn gravel. "Told 'em that from the start. Land engines weren’t meant to be pressurized like this. Salt’s eatin' her alive."

Kip scratched at his temple. "I still think it’s a castin’ flaw. That crack looks like it started right in the throat of the bend. Too clean."

"Could be both. Fyadorans didn’t leave us schematics. We’re runnin’ her blind."

Kip glanced toward the rising steam. "We’re past the frost line now. If she goes, we lose propulsion and pressure-fed heat. We’d have to turn back."

Rugg’s jaw tensed. "Assumin’ we make it back. You think that forward sail’ll carry us through a frostbelt return voyage?"

"Try tellin’ Talinn," Kip muttered. "He’s the one who brought it back. Oversaw the whole retrofit. If we report a critical failure..."

"He’ll see it as sabotage or incompetence," Rugg answered. "But if we don’t, and she fails..."

"We’re dead in the water," Verrin said. The fox didn’t raise his voice, didn’t shift from where he stood. His words carried just the same.

Swifttail’s eyes traced the piping. There it was: the feed line, tucked behind a pressure buffer, faint curls of steam marking a slow, dangerous leak. No full-grown beast could reach it. But maybe...

He had always been lithe and skinny, even before his time as a slave and impoverished start in the VI. He bet he could get in there. Back in his arctic village of Iskatyut, he had apprenticed under the blacksmith. While he still partook in traditional smithing practices using a hammer and a forge, he had also been expected to learn and practice modern repair methods. Brazing copper sheet to create a still for his uncle had become his focus, and he had gotten good at it. He had overheard that, much like copper, cast iron could also be brazed with the right tools. Tools he was almost certain had been listed in the ship’s manifest.

He tapped the coal scuttle lightly, thoughtful. The engineers continued their debate, but Swifttail had already begun forming a plan. His tail flicked, and he set the scuttle down.

He stepped fully into the open space, and Rugg immediately fixed him with a stare.

The badger stood beside a pressure valve, one broad paw resting against the warm steel of the engine. An old steam burn curled down one side of his jaw, fading into the collar of his grease-smeared canvas vest. His eyes didn’t register surprise. Just quiet calculation.

To his left, Kip hunched near a gauge, one paw fiddling with a bolt that didn’t need tightening. The stoat’s apron sagged under the weight of uncleaned tools, and his fur bristled in patches from heat and stress.

And across from them stood Verrin. The fox watched without expression, arms crossed, his dark layered leathers pristine despite the closeness of the room. His gaze never moved from Swifttail.

"If you’re planning to patch that line," Swifttail said, "I might be able to help. I’ve brazed copper and worked on cast. That seam’s a tight fit, but I’ve worked with worse. Just tell me what you want done."

Kip blinked, then looked to Rugg for direction.

"Think you can squeeze in behind the buffer without cookin’ yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

"We’ll need a torch."

Rugg turned toward the mid-frame rack. It was empty.

"Should’ve been mounted here. Last I saw, Bosun Ralynn had it. Said it was for pipework. Or, depending who you ask, she might’ve been using it to discipline a crewbeast." He sniffed. "Hard to say."

"Want me to go find it?"

"If she doesn’t have it," Rugg said, "find out who does. No delays."

Verrin unfolded his arms. "Be quick. That crack’s growing."

"August von Marquardt torch," Rugg added. "Big one. Heavy. Handles like a crate. Not something you lose easy."

Swifttail moved off at a brisk pace, ears tipped forward and paws light. Somewhere above them, the cold crept on.

---

Swifttail stepped up out of the engine hold, steam-stained paws gripping the cold rail as he passed into the corridor beyond. The warmth faded fast. Up here, the cold nipped at the joints of the ship and the bones of its crew.

The passage was quiet, lit only by a lantern swaying on a chain. Somewhere forward, a bucket clanked against a bulkhead in the lull of the sea.

He passed a pair of deckhands hunched near the mess entrance, shoulders pressed together under a shared oilskin. One gave him a sideways glance, then jerked a thumb forward.

"Bosun’s cabin’s just past the hawser room. If she’s in a mood, knock twice and back off."

"Why?" Swifttail asked, slowing.

The deckpaw smirked. "Heard she was fixin’ to melt ice outta the rigging. Or a sailor. Depending who you ask."

Swifttail gave a dry flick of his tail. "Right."

He moved on.

The bosun’s cabin sat tucked between the forward ladderwell and a wall of old sail lockers, marked by a heavy tarred door and a brass ring for a knocker. A scent of pitch and frozen rope hung in the air. A lantern bracketed to the wall nearby flickered weakly, the oil low.

He lifted a paw and gave two knocks.

Then stepped back.

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

Frost patterns trace delicate fingers across Ralynn's small cabin window, a chill seeping through that hadn't been there when she finally collapsed into her bunk. Dreams twist through her consciousness – distorted reflections of the day. She stands before Minister Ryalor, stripped of rank while Morgan Liu administers punishment with her mother's garden cane. The rabbit's whiskers twitch violently as she jerks awake, breath clouding visibly in the suddenly frigid air.

"Sweet bleedin' carrot tops," she mutters, wrapping her thin blanket around her shoulders. The ship's familiar rocking has changed – a different rhythm. They've passed into northern waters while she slept.

Ralynn rubs at her eyes, sensing she's slept far longer than intended. The ship's bells should have woken her hours ago. Must’a been tired if Ah slept through that rottin’ racket. The cold seems to have seeped into her bones, making her usually nimble limbs stiff and uncooperative as she pulls on her uniform jacket. The brass buttons feel like ice against her paws. Ah woulda swore they said t’would be wairmer ain this ship, wi’ tha’ fires below.

The cabin, never spacious to begin with, feels even smaller in the chill. Her few personal possessions – a small wooden carving of a sailing ship her father made (and later regretted as her obsession grew), her worn copy of Maritime Navigation for the Modern Mariner (stolen years ago from a passing scholar), a carefully mended blue kerchief (the fabric’s color just like the sea at noontime) – seem to huddle together against the cold.

She's just managed to get her right boot on when a sharp double-knock cuts through the silence. Her long ears perk instantly, still sensitive from her dreams of authority undermined. Ralynn freezes momentarily, one boot on and one boot off, caught between officer and farmgirl.

"Jus' ah moment," she calls, her brogue thickening as it always does when she's tired. She clears her throat, straightens her uniform collar, and attempts to smooth down the white fringe of fur that always seems to stand at attention along her cheeks regardless of her efforts.

Hopping awkwardly toward the door while struggling with her second boot, Ralynn composes her face into what she hopes is a properly authoritative expression. It feels like putting on a mask that doesn't quite fit – too large in some places, too small in others.

The small brass latch feels like it might freeze her paw as she turns it, cracking the door just enough to peer through with one eye, her white breath clouding around her face in the frigid air.

"Aye?" she manages, blinking against the relative brightness of the lamp lit corridor. Her gaze falls on Swifttail's still unfamiliar features. Her still-waking noodle falters for a moment as she tries unsuccessfully to open the door and put her boot on simultaneously and undoubtedly has a very seriously silly (silly serious?) look on her bunny face. At the last moment, Ralynn remembers herself, attempting to straighten her posture while still comically off-balance with one boot dangling from her paw. "Yes, Seabeast Fox?"

Even as she asks, she notices the smudges of grease and coal dust on his paws. Engine trouble, she thinks immediately, her stomach sinking. Verrin's domain. The last place she feels comfortable asserting her authority. It seems at times like all she’s ever learned about sailing has no meaning to that steam-brained lot. The rabbit's nose twitches anxiously, her half-asleep daze rapidly burning away like morning fog under a harsh sun.
@SwifttailTheFox

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail stood in the corridor outside the bosun’s quarters, arms folded and paws tucked under his sleeves. His breath fogged the air, but he barely noticed. This kind of chill clung to his bones like an old friend. The north was in his blood, and while the cold still nipped at his ears and tail, it didn’t unsettle him like it did others. If anything, it sharpened him.

The ship’s rhythm had shifted. He felt it deep in the floor plating. Slower, more ponderous, like the sea itself had thickened. He raised two claws and gave a soft, rhythmic tap on the bulkhead behind him. Once, twice. A small thing. A habit. Just a way to keep the day in its proper shape.

The cabin door creaked open, letting out a wash of stale, chilled air and faint lamplight. The space inside was dim, shadowed at the corners, the kind of cold that clung to fabric and made breath curl like smoke. Ralynn blinked out at him, her light fur catching a glow from the low lamp behind her. She looked caught mid-shift. One boot on, the other dangling, uniform collar askew, and sleep still tugging at the corners of her eyes.

Swifttail registered it all with the quiet stillness of a fox observing a snare he didn’t want to spring. He didn’t stare. Didn’t smirk. Just waited until her eye met his, then offered a small nod.

“Bosun Ralynn, ma’am,” he said, voice clear but deferential, “Swifttail, deckpaw—engine detail. Pardon the intrusion, but I was sent to see if’n you 'ad the blow torch on loan? Word below is it were passed to your possession last, an' we’ve need of it for some... ongoing work.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully, tail tip flicking behind him.

“Nothing dire. Just a bit o’ soot in the teeth, as they say. Rugg and Kip are elbow-deep in it, and I was told best to ask quick before the heat goes cold.”

He offered a small, tight-lipped smile. Half polite, half hoping to avoid being barked at.

“If it’s still about, I’ll not linger long n’ jus’ fetch it and be out from underpaw.”

@Ralynn Waverunner

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

"Aye, th' blowtorch," Ralynn nods, recognition flashing across her features. "Had it yesterday. Was securin' some metal fittings on th' spare spars belowdecks."

She hops awkwardly on one foot, finally managing to jam her second boot on properly. The rabbit straightens her jacket with a quick tug and steps out into the corridor, pulling her cabin door shut behind her. The cold air hits her fully now, making her whiskers stiffen.

"Frost's really set in, eh?" She rubs her paws together briskly. "Should'a expected it, movin' naerth as we are."

Ralynn gestures for Swifttail to follow as she heads down the passageway. Her steps are quick and light despite the lingering stiffness in her joints. The familiar rhythm of the ship beneath her feet tells her they're making slower progress than yesterday - the northern waters growing thicker, perhaps with floating ice.

"Left th' torch in th' forward hold, Ah think," she explains, glancing back at the fox. His calm demeanor in the cold impresses her - no hunched shoulders or shivering like many of the other crewbeasts. "Ye seem right at home in this weather, Seabeast. Not many aboard can claim that."

They pass a pair of crewbeasts huddled near a stovepipe, who quickly straighten and salute as Ralynn approaches. She returns the gesture somewhat awkwardly, still unused to the deference her position commands.

"Ye've been with us since... Bully Harbor, was it?" she asks Swifttail, descending a narrow ladder to the lower deck. The conversation feels like reaching for something just out of grasp - the easy camaraderie she once shared as just another deckhand now complicated by the weight of rank. "Ah missed a full introduction, tha Minister jes' tol' me ye'd joined tha' crew. What part o' th' world are ye from, if ye don't mind my askin'? Ah'm from Alton Bay m'self, but it never gets this bitter there."

The forward hold smells of hemp, tar, and metal. Ralynn weaves between stacked crates and coiled ropes with practiced ease, heading toward the workbench where she'd left the torch. The brass and copper contraption sits heavily among her tools, its fuel chamber gleaming dully in the sparse light.

"There she is," Ralynn says, lifting the substantial torch with both paws. "Meant tae return it m'self, but..." She leaves the sentence hanging, unwilling to admit she'd gotten so tired she'd simply fallen into her bunk without completing her tasks. "The engineers need it for th' steam works, then? Not somethin' I'd dare fiddle with m'self. All those valves and pipes - give me good old riggin' and sails any day."

She hands the torch to Swifttail, their paws briefly meeting in the exchange. "Is it serious? Th' engine trouble?" Her voice drops slightly, concern edging in. "Not that I'm questionin' your engineers, mind. Just... good to know what we're facin' out here in these waters."

Beneath her official inquiry lies a simpler worry - the farm girl beneath the uniform wondering if they'll all freeze if the strange, clanking heart of the ship fails them now.

@SwifttailTheFox

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail followed close behind, his footpaws light on the steps, careful not to clatter as they descended to the lower deck. He kept his paws tucked behind his back, ears perked to catch the shift in the ship’s voice and the bosun’s words.

When she glanced back and asked where he was from, he offered a small nod first, like a proper introduction had been overdue.

“Swifttail Fairpaws, deckpaw. I was assigned engine detail under Master Rugg. Aye. Been aboard since Bully.”

Only then did he glance aside, as if admitting something half-hidden.

“I’m from a village called Iskatyut. Small place. Not on many charts, if any... It’s far. Past the rim of most maps I’ve seen. I only ever knew the village name and the snow. That’s all we needed, back then.”

He hesitated a beat, then added,

“Sky would crack with ribbons of light some nights. Green and blue, twistin’ like they was dancin’. Some said it was the spirits lookin’ in. I never saw proof, but... still felt watched.”

He gave a faint shrug, not dismissive, just resigned.

“Cold never bothered me much after that.”

When they reached the forward hold, the smell of tar and metal wrapped around him like a thick old coat. Ralynn moved with sure footing, and he stayed close as she led him between crates and tools. She stopped at a workbench and lifted the torch, heavy and gleaming dully in the dim.

Their paws met in the handoff, and his eyes briefly flicked from the tool to hers.

“Aye. For the steam works,” he said softly, adjusting his grip on the brass handle. “Somethin’ ain’t sittin’ right. Engine gave a cough after we spotted an iceberg off starboard 'couple hours back. Then it settled again. Rugg’s got an ear for it, says it’s not danger, but it’s not comfort neither.”

He thumbed the copper casing absently, eyes settling on the metal like it might whisper the truth if held right.

“Likely just a clog, or a valve that don’t want to sit true in colder waters. They’ll sort it. They always do.”

The faintest smile tugged at his muzzle, kind but with an unmistakable grimness underneath.

“Thank you, Bosun Ralynn. For the torch. And the walk.”

@Ralynn Waverunner

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

Ralynn's paws tighten around the torch briefly before releasing it to Swifttail. The weight of responsibility settles on her shoulders heavier than any sea-soaked greatcoat. Her nose twitches rapidly – a telltale sign of anxiety she's never managed to control despite her best efforts to maintain an officer's composure.

"Aye, nae wurry," she says, her brogue thickening as it always does when she's concerned. "Iceberg, ye say?" She glances toward the hull, as if she might see through the wooden planking to the freezing waters beyond. "And th' engine coughed right after? Izzit tha jus' tha cold, or did we make contact wi' tha bugger?"

A chill that has nothing to do with the northern air runs through her. The Golden Hide isn't just any vessel – she's special, innovative, the pride of the Imperial fleet. And as bosun, Ralynn is responsible for every plank, line, and fitting. Yet the steam engine remains a mysterious beast to her, all hissing valves and temperamental pipes that speak a language she hasn't mastered.

"Is there aught Ah can dae tae help? Ah'm makin' an effort tae learn tha ways o' these wee pipes an' steam."

Her ears flatten slightly against her head, betraying her insecurity. Back in Alton Bay, she could mend anything – sails, fishing nets, farm tools. Here, among these modern contraptions, she feels like she's still Emily Cabbagepatch pretending at something beyond her understanding.

"Mah business as bosun to knoo as much as Ah can aboot all ship's works," she continues, paws fidgeting with her coat buttons. "Mayhap Ah can hold ah lantern or summat tae aid in a repair?"

The offer sounds weak even to her own ears, but she means it sincerely. Not just as an officer doing her duty, but as a crewbeast who can't bear the thought of feeling useless while others work to keep them all from freezing.

She moves toward the ladder, but hesitates, one paw on the cold metal rung. "Truth is, Seabeast Fairpaws, I know mair about knots an' timber than I do about these new steam contraptions. But I'm dead set on learnin'. Can't have parts o' me own ship that're mysteries, now can I?"

A faint, self-deprecating chuckle escapes her. "Especially not when they're what's keepin' us from turnin' into beast-sicles in these waters."

@SwifttailTheFox

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail said nothing at first, just held the torch steady while Ralynn spoke. Her paws had trembled when she passed it over. Just a flicker, but he’d caught it. The offer to help hung in the air like steam off a cold valve. Earnest. Maybe a little desperate. But not false.

“No contact with the ice,” he said simply, flicking his ears toward the hull. “It passed well off our course.”

He glanced back the way they’d come, then forward again. There was only one direction left now.

He gave her a nod. “You’re welcome to come.”

His voice stayed level. Something in his shoulders eased, like a fox resigning himself to a companion he hadn’t expected but didn’t mind.

“The engine room is tight quarters,” he added after a beat. “Hot. Loud. Always hissin’, always talkin’. Rugg doesn’t like strangers near the boiler, but if he knows you’re there to learn, not interfere, he’ll allow it.”

A pause. Then, softer:

“Rugg and Verrin were speakin’ quiet about bringin’ it to Captain Talinn. Nothin’ settled. But they’re watchin’ it close.”

He started up the ladder and looked back to make sure she was following.

The closer they moved toward the engine spaces, the warmer the air became. The faint scent of coal dust hung in the corridor now, mixing with oil and metal. The deck creaked underpaw in a familiar rhythm, and somewhere ahead, something hissed to life with a tired breath of steam.

Swifttail gripped the torch a little tighter.

“Best you see it for yourself. Easier that way than guessin’ at it.”

@Ralynn Waverunner

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

Ralynn follows Swifttail up the ladder, his revelation about Rugg and Verrin's discussions regarding Minister Talinn sending a fresh wave of concern through her. If the engine troubles merit the attention of the Minister himself, perhaps the situation is more serious than she'd first thought.

"Lead ain, then," she says, squaring her shoulders with determination. "If thaire's trouble brewin' in tha ship's belly, Ah'd sooner face it head-on than wonder."

As they navigate the narrow passageways deeper into the Golden Hide, the atmosphere transforms. The biting cold of the upper decks gradually yields to a rising warmth that seeps through her uniform. Pipes running along the ceiling emit occasional sighs and clicks, like the ship itself is conversing in some arcane language.

"These dancin' lights ye mentioned," Ralynn says, ducking beneath a low-hanging beam, "they sound right magical. Never saw anythin' like tha' ain Alton Bay." Her voice carries a wistful note as they descend another ladder. "Back home, mos' excitin' thing was when old Farmer Thumpwell's prized turnip grew large enough to need its own cart. And thah stories the ol' salts loitering aboot tha docks could tell. Roped a wee young bunny lass in, Ah c'n tell ye."

The temperature climbs noticeably with each step toward the engine room. Ralynn loosens her collar, feeling beads of sweat forming beneath her winter fur.

"Iskatyut... such a name! Rolls off the tongue like somethin' fraem one o' their tales." She grins, momentarily forgetting the serious nature of their errand. "Me hometown—just dirt burrows an' cabbage fields far as the eye could see. Dreadfully dull for a young kit with dreams bigger than her paws."

They pass a junction where steam vents hiss from overhead pipes, causing Ralynn's ears to twitch at the sudden noise. Her eyes widen at the complex network of valves and gauges that line the passage ahead.

"Ye knoo," she continues, shrugging off her coat and slinging it over her arm as the heat becomes uncomfortable, "Ah used tae climb tha tallest oak near oor burrow just tae catch ah glimpse o' ships sailin' into Alton Bay. Dreamed o' adventure beyond those fields day and night. Aye, naught Ah wanted maire than tae see what was over tha' horizon."

A particularly loud clank from somewhere deep in the ship makes her start slightly, but she quickly composes herself, not wanting to appear jumpy before the collected fox.

"Never thought Ah'd end up bosun on the most advanced vessel in the fleet," she adds, voice lowering with genuine humility. "Much less one with all this..." she gestures at the bewildering array of pipes and gauges, "...mechanical wizardry."

As they approach the final hatch leading to the engine room proper, the heat becomes almost overwhelming. Sweat dampens the fur between Ralynn's ears, and the cacophony of mechanical sounds grows louder—hissing steam, clanking metal, the rhythmic thrum of pistons. She eyes the complicated machinery with a mixture of respect and apprehension.

"Sweet harvest," she murmurs, intimidated as usual, "it's like enterin' the belly of some great beast, ain't it? All alive and breathin' fire."

@SwifttailTheFox

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail said nothing for a long moment, the torch balanced steady in his paws as they moved through the narrowing corridor. He listened while Ralynn talked of old farmers and dockside tales, of oaks climbed for a glimpse of sails and cabbage fields traded for rigging. He didn’t smile, not exactly, but the edge of his mouth curved with something quieter.

“Funny thing,” he said at last, voice low but clear. “I never dreamed of the sea at all.”

He ducked beneath a beam and adjusted the torch in his grip.

“Parents told me not to. Said the ocean’s a place for fools and floaters. Said I’d die to some mad whale if I so much as touched saltwater.”

He gave a small shrug.

“They wanted me to stay home. Apprentice to the blacksmith. Mend hinges. Fix sleds. Make a better place outta what we had.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, expression unreadable in the dim light.

“And yet here I am. Not sure what that says.”

They came to the final hatch. Swifttail reached for the latch, then paused, adjusting his posture. He tugged at the hem of his tunic, wiped his free paw subtly against his trousers. He wasn’t nervous. Not really. But the heat leaking through the seams made his fur prickle already, and Rugg’s voice was sharpest when it echoed off iron.

“Best mind your step,” he murmured, and swung the hatch open.

The engine room swallowed them in a wave of heat and noise.

It was a cramped, steamy chamber, every inch of wall and floor either metal, pipe, or grime. Valves rattled. Steam hissed from sweating joints overhead. The air hung heavy with the scent of oil and coal and wet steel. The old engine clunked and chuffed away in the center of the space, mounted on a broad metal frame sunk into the deck. One great drive wheel spun lazily, its movement transferred through a network of gears and shafts that vanished into the aft bulkhead toward the screw.

Quarter speed. Barely moving. But moving.

Swifttail stepped in, holding the torch upright like a ceremonial staff. He didn’t speak again until the sound of boots on metal announced Rugg before he even came into view.

The old badger rounded a corner from behind the boiler, fur streaked with soot and sleeve rolled to the elbow. A scar pulled one side of his muzzle taut. His eyes landed on Ralynn—and then on Swifttail.

“Wot’s this?” he barked. “You draggin’ in officers now, Fairpaws? You think yer job’s to brief the command crew?”

Swifttail froze, stiffening like a pipe under pressure.

“I brought the torch,” he said quickly, voice controlled but tight. “She followed.”

“Followed?” Rugg echoed, incredulous. “And you let her? Down here? You think this boiler’s some gallery to tour? You know damn well we ain’t resolved the strain!”

He stepped closer, bristling.

“You don’t get to be the mouthpiece for what ain't your call to speak on, fox. You let your tongue wag on matters meant for the likes of Verrin—or me.”

Swifttail’s ears lowered slightly, but he didn’t step back. He didn’t speak again, either. He just held the torch steady, eyes locked forward, waiting.

Waiting to see what the bosun would do.

@Ralynn Waverunner

 

[Ralynn Waverunner]

The blast of heat from the engine room washes over Ralynn like August at harvest time. For a moment, she's overwhelmed by the sensory assault – the scorching air, the clanking machinery, the biting smell of coal and metal. But when Rugg rounds on Swifttail, all other sensations fade to background noise.

"Let me?" she repeats, her voice cutting through the hissing steam like a freshly-honed blade. "Did Ah hear ye plainly, Master Rugg?"

Ralynn steps forward, putting herself between Swifttail and the badger. Despite barely coming to Rugg's midsection, she draws herself up to her full height, ears erect and whiskers bristling. Her farmgirl accent recedes as her officer's bearing takes over and she makes a (somewhat) successful effort to repress it.

"Ah am Bosun Ralynn Waverunner, third ain command o' this vessel and directly responsible fer the physical integrity o' ev'ry plank, nail, and pipe aboard." Her voice remains level but carries an unmistakable edge. "There is nae corner o' this ship where Ah require permission tae go, and certainly none where Ah need to be allowed by any crewbeast."

She gestures at the engine with a sharp flick of her paw.

"What's maire, ye speak o' strain and unresolved issues with mah ship as though they're secrets tae be kept from her officers? That, Master Rugg, borders ain mutinous behavior."

The rabbit steps closer, nose twitching rapidly but her gaze unwavering.

"Swifttail mentioned concerns aboot tha engine. As bosun, it is mah duty – nae merely mah right – tae investigate. Any crewbeast who believes they should conceal tha condition o' this vessel from her officers will answer tae me directly."

She pulls a small notebook from her pocket and makes a deliberate note with the stub of pencil kept alongside it.

"Master Rugg, ye are hereby placed on report fer insubordination an' obstruction o' an officer's duties. Twenny lashes, tae be administered this evenin' at tha changin' o' tha watch."

Ralynn tucks the notebook away and straightens her uniform jacket, which has begun to stick to her fur in the oppressive heat.

"Fer tha noo, Ah suggest ye focus yer attention on explainin' exactly what troubles this engine, rather than who should or shouldnae be informed o' its condition. Otherwise, Ah'll be addin' negligence tae tha charges."

Her tone softens slightly as she glances at Swifttail, acknowledging his position caught between duty to his direct superior and to the ship's command.

"Seabeast Fairpaws was performing his duty tae this vessel admirably. Ah expect ye'll direct any further displeasure ain tha matter tae me, not tae him. If Ah should find oot otherwise, ye'll wish ye'd only got twenny lashes. Aye?"

@SwifttailTheFox

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail stood still as stone.

The heat of the engine room pressed in around him, but it wasn’t the boiler or the hiss of venting steam that made his fur stand on end. It was the voice of the bosun, cutting sharp through the noise, fierce and certain. And the way she’d stepped between him and Rugg like a storm with a name.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But his ears rose slowly from where they’d flattened moments before. His grip on the torch steadied. Something in his spine straightened, not defiant, not proud exactly, but grounded. Ralynn Waverunner had drawn a line in the oil-stained metal, and she’d stood on his side of it.

Rugg didn’t argue. The badger gave a grunt, low and dull as the clank of an iron pipe, and spat to the side without looking at either of them.

“Aye,” he muttered, wiping one soot-blackened paw against the other. “Noted.”

He turned away, back toward the belly of the boiler as though the matter were done.

But it wasn’t.

Another figure stepped into the light, quiet and clean-cut amid the sweat and noise. Master Verrin moved like he belonged here, coat unwrinkled despite the heat, paws tucked behind his back in perfect poise. His voice, when it came, cut just as clearly as Ralynn’s, but colder.

“No deception was meant,” Verrin said. “Only caution. We’ve been observing the strain on the engine for several days. The intent was to present the matter fully and properly to Minister Talinn once the evidence was compiled. Nothing more.”

He turned to Ralynn, his gaze steady.

“The pup was simply excited to share what he was privileged to have known. No blame should rest on him.”

Swifttail lowered his eyes at that, the smallest flick of movement betraying the knot in his chest. He said nothing, but his paw flexed once around the torch’s handle.

Verrin stepped forward, gesturing slightly toward the boiler system.

“The crack is narrow, but growing. The fox proposed a brazing fix. Delicate work, but feasible. The concern is temperature. The system is still under pressure. Cooling it fully would risk a pressure fracture across the manifold. Bringing it back up afterward would require hours, maybe longer, with a full inspection and sign-off.”

He glanced between them both.

“In our current position, such a delay would be... unwise.”

He offered a shallow nod to the bosun.

“Your presence is noted and respected, Bosun Waverunner. You are, of course, entitled to be here.”

Then he stepped back, as if that settled things.

Swifttail didn’t look up. But he was still listening.

And for the first time since he’d stepped aboard the Golden Hide, he felt like he truly belonged here.

@Ralynn Waverunner

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

After many days on the ship, Kaii knew he couldn't stand it anymore.

As a mere deckswab, despite being a keen minded beast, he was delegated to just throwing around the coal down at the engineering bay.

He observed as the other crew members around him worked on the boiler that powered the engine within the bay. Despite lack of ability to work on them, he was familiar enough with those to learn quickly. Noting what actions of the beast-in-charge cause what reactions of the ship and mechanisms alike.

And frankly speaking, he already had ideas to experiment on it. More importantly, he wanted to do so. Noble or not, he was a man of ambition and duty, one that went far beyond being a mere observer to the actions that just happened around him.

As such, over the night, with a piece of coal and spare sheet of paper he got, he started working out the small improvements to the boiler. He obviously had no way in making sure they would work, but that is how progress is being made isn't it?

A change of cog ratios here, a small but effective transmission change there, change of gauge for steam pipes maybe... All of those were useful but without testing them he could never be sure if they would work. To get that knowledge, he had to get his claws on the boiler itself.

He heard many of the discussions about the boiler and the engine being problematic, specifically in the matters of temperature that often caused issues especially as it took ages to cool down and get back again. Yet upon observing the engine during those moments again and again, he observed as the brass expanded and shrunk each time the temperature changed. Incomparably so to the steel supports beneath them. That is when the small epiphany hit him, such simple yet elegant solution to overheating problem!

After some time spent on polishing his idea and figuring out a few quirks during particularly quiet shift, he finally got the gist of the idea to be operational. He knew speaking about it to the captain or anyone in charge truly would be pointless, but he noticed the other people down the engineering bay gathered up with a bosun. After waiting for a moment, they started to go back to their tasks and so he brazenly walked up to one of them.

"You know, if I may suggest it... I have an idea that could avoid plenty of common overheating issues."

He spoke to the other beast, just hoping he could strike the conversation about something he was truly excited for. A rare moment for him.

"I know that right now we have more burning issues, but I can easily put it down on the paper later on. Think about it, much less work for us in the future and potentially saving out tails from charring."

He smiled roguishly at the beast he heard to be known as Swifttail, hoping that his bold suggestion won't go amiss. He wasn't afraid of dismissal. At worst he would build his new idea in his spare time and offer it somewhere else, this time for a right price.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Swifttail blinked, ears flicking at the sudden voice beside him. He didn’t need to look to know it was another fox. The easy confidence in the tone. The way it cut through the engine’s rumble without effort. It had to be the bunker lad from the other shift... Kaii, was it? He’d heard the name in passing, and seen him only in the tired overlaps of shift change, ghosting past with coal dust on his paws and a certain restless glint in his eye.

They hadn’t spoken. Not properly. But Swift had heard things. That he was clever. Ambitious. Not much for rules. Maybe even trouble, depending on who you asked.

Now here he was, stepping into the thick of things with a smile and a suggestion like he owned the boiler.

Swifttail kept his eyes forward, watching the flicker of the flamelight against the machinery. His heart beat a little faster. Not out of fear. He wasn’t afraid of Kaii, but something else. A twitchy mix of unease and recognition. He could tell the other fox had skill, maybe more than he let on. And it stirred something in Swift he didn’t quite like.

He wasn’t interested in rivals. Wasn’t here to compete. But it was hard not to feel a little small in the shadow of someone so bold.

Still, hadn’t he done the same, just a short time ago? Stepped forward. Offered a fix. Rugg had listened.

So who was he to scoff?

He kept his mouth shut. This wasn’t his moment.

There was a tense pause as the boiler hissed quietly in the wake of Kaii’s bold suggestion. Then came the shuffle of heavy paws across the deck plates and a rough, low voice like gravel caught in steam.

“Y’got that written down,” Rugg growled, not looking up as he checked a pressure valve with practiced claws, “or’s it still swimmin’ in that fancy head o’ yours?”

He straightened, glancing sidelong at the marble-furred fox with a weary eye. The steam scars crisscrossing his muzzle stood out in the lamplight as he scratched at his chin, expression unreadable.

“‘Cause I’ve got half a mind to dismiss that cocky tone of yours outright. But the other half’s listenin’. Ain’t been a day since the Hide stopped sweatin’ herself to pieces, and I’ll be damned if I ain’t sick of chasin’ leaks I didn’t cause.”

He stepped closer, motioning toward the boiler like he was addressing a troublesome apprentice rather than an equal.

“You reckon you’ve got a fix for the overheatin’? Fine. Tell me. No promises. I’m just barely in the mood for surprises today.”

He cast a look over at Swifttail, something halfway between a smirk and a grumble tugging at the edge of his jowls.

“Looks like yer not the only fox with ideas, eh pup?”

A few nearby tools clinked with the subtle shift in air pressure. From the far corner, a new voice joined the space. Cool, composed, and unmistakably sharp.

Verrin had been quiet throughout, arms folded as he observed the exchange without a word. Now he stepped forward, his gaze flicking briefly from Kaii to Rugg, then to the boiler.

“If the suggestion has merit, you may proceed. But it must not interfere with our schedule.”
“The mission resumes at dawn. Ensure your adjustments, if made, are complete by then.”

He said nothing more, his expression unreadable, then returned to the shadows of the compartment with all the subtle weight of a knife sheathed. He gathered up a few leather bound journals, then like a wisp, disappeared out of the engine room.

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Upon hearing Rugg’s allowing words, Kaii had turned around on his paw in a move that belonged to a ballroom. The cold fire that burned behind his blue eyes was now stoked higher than anyone in the ship could’ve ever seen.

„Give me no more than 60 seconds.”

He declared before moving with a grace of a dancer, or a duelist, to his bedding and coming back with two sheets of paper. One covered in neat technical drawing, clearly proving at least some level of competence. The other one covered in what could be only named as unholy scribbles of incomprehensible math.


„The math doesn’t exactly work out because calculating how things expand under heat is sufficiently difficult.” He says quickly while hovering over the sheet filled with calculations and calculus. As he sets it to the side he murmurs under his breath „I swear there must be some common law that would account for it.”

Yet once he says that he focuses on the much cleaner drawing that shows a valve of sorts, while the picture shows very basic components, mostly springs and regular valves. The core component seems to be a small piece welded metals. It almost seemed like this crazy fox wanted to use magic to operate this valve.

Yet when he spoke, he did so with calm conviction, assured of his ability but not infringing on the madness.

„Obviously so, metals expand when heated. But they do so in different ways…” He starts his explanation while grabbing a piece of brass from his pocket. „So It got me to think, why aren’t we exactly using it for our own purposes? If we were to use brass, that grows more from my observation, in a casing from steel or pig iron that grows less so, We can have a valve that opens up more the higher temperature is. It would take a few dry attempts to get the lengths right but I am certain that…” He continued to speak, clearly in his element. Kaii didn’t exactly care if he was even going to be considered seriously, albeit that would be welcome. He was just happy that for the first time in the past few years or so, he could get into the fray of innovation and science freely with the other people.

He looked at the other beasts, as he finally got to his last sentence. His voice and body trembling slightly from barely contained excitement. „…and as such there is also low to no chance of this system failing… Maybe if the pressure goes too high, but that is why you are here in the end right?” Kaii finished with a small laugh, panting from rapid speech for a second before regaining his usual, calm demeanour.

Pulling out a precision screwdriver from his personal bag of tools, he pointed it at at the drawing in front of him, looking at his fellows with both a promise and a plea. „I understand I was given a mere night. As such I plead you, assist me, if you can and want that is. I am not an expert I would have to be to do it fully on my own, hence why I ask you for your expertise gentlebeasts.”

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Rugg stared at the papers in silence for a beat, his brow furrowing as he took in the contrast between clean technical drafting and whatever unholy numeric soup Kaii had scrawled beside it. He said nothing at first, just scratched his jaw and let the younger fox speak.

The badger’s eye narrowed on the brass piece, then flicked toward the drawing again. A low grunt rumbled in his throat, though it wasn’t quite dismissive.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he muttered, but there was the faintest curl of something like respect in his tone, “and a damn clever bit of thinking.”

He jabbed a thick claw at the spring valve sketched in the margins.

“This here, yeah, I’ve seen worse slapped onto a water heater and called genius. You get that build right, with the brass and steel expanding at different rates, it could ease the strain when we hit temp spikes. Good insight, better than some of the half-baked cover-ups I’ve seen lately.”

He turned slightly, casting a sharp glare toward Kip, who had gone very still beside a toolkit.

“But that’s a conversation for later,” Rugg grunted. “Right now, we ain’t fixin’ heat. We’re tryin’ to stop this old girl from crackin’ in half the moment we get her pressure up.”

He stepped closer to the boiler, one paw resting lightly on its warm, sweating side.

“We’re drainin’ the main feed pipe so we can braze a crack in the outer casing. That means the engine’ll be hot, but the water’ll stop movin’. You wanna help? Then tell me this...”

He looked back at Kaii, his tone more direct now.

“How do we keep water flowin’ to the boiler while we patch her? We lose pressure, we lose power, and this mission goes belly-up. You still got ideas, bunker boy? Now’s the time to prove they’re more than pretty lines on paper.”

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii took no time in pondering his new assignment. Pulling out a measuring device and slide rule as well as using the other side of the sheet with the drawing to put down calculations and measurements. In a manner of minutes he had a good sketch of the boiler and the engine alike.

"Bypass is an option... But we could make the water go at very low pressure, that way, even if we keep the high flow we could safely braze it without the need for..." He pokes gently his own muzzle with the screwdriver, thinking at all the potential solutions to this problem. He wouldn't give up and as such he directed all of his thinking just toward this problem. He knew just enough about this to make it work. And he wasn't shy to show it.

"Or there is a much more sophisticated solution I think. Brazing can be done with various metals and materials. The casing is made of brass but we can braze it with pig Iron while pumping smoke from the boiler onto it. Warm smoke should both enrich the iron with the coal and shield it from water vapor... Granted some imperfections may occur but It seems to me decent enough for a temporary fix."

He then started walking around the engine, looking at it as if it was pray he would be stalking. He had more ideas, but the tasks at hand are the only way to prove himself before working on those. For now, he awaited if his solution would be taken in well.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Rugg listened in silence, ears twitching as Kaii spun through a whirlwind of possibilities and scribbled up new diagrams with the same speed some beasts used to tie their boots.

The badger’s expression didn’t change, but his silence grew heavier by the second.

When the young fox finally paused, Rugg stepped forward, rubbing his brow with a soot-streaked paw and letting out a low grunt.

“Alright, slow down there, whirligig.”

He tapped the boiler casing once with a thick knuckle.

“First off, that pipe’s not brass. It’s cast iron. Old, rough-forged Fyadoran stock. Try brazin’ pig iron to that and you’ll just make a mess, not a patch.”

He leaned slightly, peering at the fox’s new sketch, then fixed Kaii with a look that was part tired and part bemused.

“Second, the feed pipe doesn’t hold enough pressure to matter. Lowerin’ it won’t make a difference. You hit that pipe with a torch and it’s still got water inside?” He snapped his claws. “All yer gonna do is boil the water. Pressure spikes local, solder won’t flow, and next thing we know, you’ve flash-steamed yerself right off the deck.”

He stepped back, motioning broadly to the boiler and the feed assembly.

“What we need is a bypass. A proper one. Flow the water around the crack entirely, keep the pressure goin’ where it matters, and let us drain the feed pipe long enough to work the patch.”

His voice dropped a little, tone a shade more level.

“You wanna help? That’s where to focus. Not smokin’ iron or dreamin’ up pressure-splitter rigs. You show me how we can rig a bypass with what we’ve got on hand, and I’ll listen. Reputation’s like a weld. It holds only if it’s made proper. You don’t talk your way into it. You prove it.”

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii ears flattened and he visibly bit his own lip. Then shaking off and becoming much more stoic, almost as if he shook off the excitement and passion from himself after being scolded for such mistakes. "Right, sorry for flying away. A mind of mine is not capable of rest. Bypass is in order? Let me gather my thoughts and I shall do my best." He spoke but the passion in his voice was now quelled. This however did not make him any less willing to work. On the opposite, he now wished to work even harder to learn this craft more and more.

He took out the divider and found the crack, taking a few measures and putting them onto the paper.

"I need to know however, if you can spare your thoughts, why do you think torching a thing while there is water inside would boil it all up? True, the heat dissipation would be a problem but heat spreads with time from what I know. Enough power would heat the spot properly before this would happen, and using some gaseous substance like smoke could also null out the effects of vapor I think. Unless I am missing something obvious like I did earlier."

Kaii asked out of sheer interest, even a he was still working on the plan for the bypass. A few ideas he'd put onto the paper seemed solid enough to work, yet he was still honing them, unsatisfied till they were truly perfect, at least in his eyes. He wanted to make things great, and yet scenarios like this made him aware of the path he still needed to undergo to reach the level he wanted to.

And as he awaited for the answer he sketched out a neat bypass line, going on the side of the boiler, finally satisfied with the way it would work, he took the liberty and prepared two sets of pipes needed for a bypass, ensuring they would both safely deliver the water as well as preparing a security valve for them. He was ready with everything, and awaited the beast-in-charge approval to proceed, hoping that this time he would learn from this.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Rugg watched as the marble-furred fox knuckled down and began tracing out a solution. Not another grand overhaul, not some fantasy metal vapor trick, but a real, grounded idea. The badger’s brow lifted, just slightly, and for the first time that shift, the corners of his mouth eased.

He let out a slow breath through his nose.

“You remind me of m’self at your age.” He scratched at the old burn marks along his muzzle, then let out a short, gruff chuckle. “Too many thoughts, not enough time, and just enough guts to get into trouble.”

He turned and called out across the engine bay.

“Swifttail! Over here. Pups, here's a lesson for ye both.”

Rugg bent down and picked up a length of heavy iron pipe, running his claw along its edge. He turned it in his paws like a teacher might a scroll, but with far more grease and grit.

“This here’s the kind of pipe runnin’ from the intake pump to the boiler. Main feed pipe. Simple stuff. Saltwater comes in cold from the sea, gets drawn up through this into the belly of the beast.”

He thumped the pipe with the side of his paw.

“Now when ye hit this with a torch, the heat spreads out. That’s good. But if there’s water inside?” He gave a small shake of his head. “That heat don’t stay where it’s s’posed to. It bleeds into the water, boils it off, and next thing you know, you’re wastin’ time and blowtorch fuel while the steam hisses out the crack you’re tryin’ to fix.”

He looked at them both now, a bit of pride tucked behind his tired eyes.

“Truth is, this ship needed a backup feed line anyway. Minolnn should’ve built her with one from the start, but no one ever said they were perfect.”

He handed the pipe segment toward Kaii.

“So here’s your honor, lad. Give the Hide her auxiliary feed pipe. You rig the bypass, keep her fed.”

Then he glanced toward Swifttail, with the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his jaw.

“And when that pipe’s drained proper, you...” he nodded to Swifttail, “get to prove that fancy metallurgy of yours with a clean braze on the crack.”

Rugg rolled his shoulders, exhaled slow.

“One makes a new feed, one seals the wound. Teamwork, eh?”

Swifttail stepped in closer, his ears perked and posture steady. He glanced over to Kaii and gave the other fox a disarming smile, his tail giving a friendly, if slightly reserved, wag.

[OOC - this might a bit of niche plumber knowledge that I learned installing a new hot water tank. Solder wont flow when there's water in the pipe, even some. I hadn't drained the pipe properly and there was a dribble of water resting at the bottom of the pipe I was trying to join. And all it did when I applied heat was try to pop the new valve off that I was trying to install with steam pressure, and dribbled half melted solder on my floor.

Though more abstract, it's also like the idea that you can boil water in a plastic bottle because the water keeps the plastic cool enough to not melt. Look it up! Thermodynamics are wild!]

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

Kaii turned to Swifttail with a calm yet welcoming expression. He extended his paw to fix the tuft of fur on his head before speaking up with curiosity in his eyes.

"Teamwork indeed. Name's Kaii Nashirou if you haven't heard it from me already. I am very willing to share experiences with a fellow who does know their trade."

His voice, albeit polite and warm, was also faintly conveying something akin to sadness. Kaii did a small bow towards his workmate, one totally out of place considering both place and his function.

He then turned to Rugg with ears perking up, nodding with affirmation.

"The bypass shall be done mister. You have my word on it."

Kaii then fully unpacked his bag of tools, preparing for the work ahead of him meticulously. As he was doing so, he spoke to Swifttail once more, now more leisurely, with a slow movement of a tail behind him.

"Admittedly, never done this sort of thing on a ship engine. You have experience on those?"

As he awaited the answer, Kaii paws were already moving on to work, using a piece of coal to mark places to cut the pipes and do the valves. Working efficiently and with finesse, despite visible lack of any sort of procedure.