Kade stood on the aftcastle, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her cutlass as droplets ran in rivulets down her armor. To anyone looking, it would have appeared as if Kade were staring off at nothing. In fact, it was the complete opposite as she used her eye patch to scan the bay for any signs of the Widow's Grin or the Block Island Station. Through the rain and the darkened skies, the western cliffs rose like jagged teeth, their dark faces slick with water and hidden in mist. Somewhere in those cliffs lay the entrance to Block Island Naval Station. Supposedly.
Kade frowned, scanning the rugged terrain. Her enchanted sight leapt into sharp focus, pulling the details of the cliffs closer. Cracks in the rock, gullies carved by rainwater, patches of slick vegetation. And yet, nothing. No break in the cliffs. No glimmer of movement. No sign of the entrance that was supposed to be large enough to fit a ship.
"Helm, bring us a quarter point east," Kade called, her voice cutting through the rain. "Stay close to the eastern shoreline."
"Aye, ma’am," came the crisp reply, followed by the groan of the wheel adjusting.
The crew worked in grim silence. Ropes creaked, boots squelched against the wet deck, and the rain drummed a steady rhythm against the sails. Every now and then, a faint murmur passed between sailors, but the usual banter was gone, replaced by the quiet focus of people who knew what was at stake.
Kade leaned forward, adjusting the patch’s angle as she swept the cliffs again. Nothing. Just an endless wall of stone, glistening wet in the fading light. Her jaw tightened. If the entrance was truly large enough to fit a ship, it should be obvious. Yet the cliffs revealed no answers, only more questions.
"Keep the sails trimmed tight," she said, her tone low but firm. "We don’t need the wind playing games with us."
Immediate acknowledgment followed, then the rustle of activity as people carried out her orders. The Talon moved slowly forward, the eastern shoreline slipping past in ghostly shadows. To the west, the cliffs loomed larger as the bay widened, an imposing barrier that seemed to dare them to draw closer.
Behind her, the ship's new Tempest Mage appeared to be casting various spells to keep the steadily increasing storm from causing fluttering. Kade took a moment to remember the man's name, Malkik Dunross. It wasn't clear precisely what the Malkik was doing, but it appeared they were regulating the amount and direction of the wind being sent into the sails.
Kade let out a slow breath and signed as she returned to scanning the cliff side, the rain streaking her face as she adjusted the patch again. She traced every contour of the cliffs, willing something to stand out. But the naval station’s entrance remained invisible, hidden in the mist and rain like a ghost.
"Maintain quarter sail," she called down, her voice sharp enough to cut through the patter of rain. "Let’s keep it steady."
The crew moved with the same professionalism they always did, but Kade could feel the tension radiating through the deck. Every splash of water and creak of timber seemed amplified, the sound of a ship creeping closer to the unknown. She adjusted her coat, shaking off a line of rainwater that had pooled at her sleeve, and turned back to the cliffs yet again.
"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. She wasn’t sure what frustrated her more. The entrance’s elusiveness or the fact that the chilly rain was making harder than it needed to be. A station situated into the cliffs, large enough to shelter ships, and yet it seemed like it was becoming a wild goose chase.
The Talon edged further into the bay, the rain thickening into a steady downpour. Visibility shrank by the second, the cliffs and shoreline dissolving into hazy shapes. Her eye patch cut through the worst of it, but even with its magic, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were sailing blind. Kade narrowed her eyes, the rain dripping off the edge of her coat’s hood, as she practically glared at the cliffs now as if they were mocking her personally. Then she saw it.
An old buoy bobbed half-submerged, its faded SMC markings barely visible beneath layers of barnacle and moss. It shouldn’t have been there. Her gaze moved past it, following the line it might’ve once marked.
At first, the shape was just a shadow against the jagged rock face, blurred by the downpour and the fog. But as her enchanted eye patch sharpened the details, the shadow resolved into something unmistakable: an opening. Not the shallow alcove she’d been expecting, but something far larger. A dark, cavernous maw that seemed to stretch deep into the cliff side.
She adjusted position on the deck in an attempt to improve the angle of her view. The sheer size of the entrance was enough to give her pause. It wasn’t just large enough for a ship. It looked like it had been carved to swallow one whole.
"Bishop," she called. "Take a look. Over there."
Lt. Bishop stepped up beside her, wiping the rain off his binoculars before lifting them up and following the direction she was pointing. His gaze lingered on the cliffs for a long moment before he gave a low whistle. "I see it. Big enough to fit us, if that’s what you’re thinking."
"Depth?" Kade asked.
Bishop considered for a moment. "No way to tell from here, and of course, we no longer have access to a depth finder. But if this was the station entrance, they’d have planned for it. It’d be pointless otherwise."
Kade frowned, her eye patch glowing faintly as she focused again. It had to be the entrance. The size matched what they’d heard. And yet, the unease that had crept over her earlier now coiled tighter. Something about it felt wrong.
Her enhanced vision caught a flicker of movement, or at least, what she thought was movement. She leaned slightly forward, squinting as she adjusted the patch again. It wasn’t movement at all. It was a reflection. Subtle and fleeting, but unmistakable once she caught it again. Hidden fortifications. Cleverly placed, nearly invisible in the dim light and rain.
"Fortifications," she said. "They didn’t want visitors."
Bishop grimaced. "If it’s fortified, it’s the place. But…" He trailed off, his gaze scanning the surrounding cliffs. "Feels empty, doesn’t it?"
It did. The rain fell steadily, masking sound and sight alike, but even through the patch’s magic, there were no signs of activity. No lights. No movement. If anyone was here, they were keeping a low profile or the station itself had become a ghost of its intended purpose.
Kade’s lips pressed into a thin line as she studied the entrance. The station was supposed to be operational. Naomi Darkmoor was supposed to be here. The absence of active defenses felt like an unanswered question hanging in the air.
"It’s got to be the place," she said finally, her voice low. "Nothing else fits. But if this is it, where the hell is everyone?"
"That’s the real question," Bishop replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "Could be a trap. It could be they’ve already cleared out. Either way, it’s not going to be simple."
Kade didn’t respond immediately, her focus still on the dark cave. The fortifications might’ve confirmed their destination, but they also made her stomach churn. Anything waiting inside would not give them a warm welcome. While this may be an SMC Naval Station, it looked like it would probably be a safe bet the SMC wasn't in control. For a moment, a wave of despair came over Kade. She had hoped they'd find safe harbor and allies.
That moment of despair was all it took to strengthen her resolve. Fine, she thought. If we've got to do this the hard way, we'll do it the hard way.
"All right," she said, the decision settling in her mind. "We found it. Now we hope we can get in without getting gutted."
"Steady ahead, slow. Helm, take us in," she said.
The Horizon Talon slipped into the mouth of the cave, the rain fading to a faint hiss as it gave way to the oppressive silence of the rock tunnel. The air was cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of salt and mildew. Water dripped from stalactites high above, each drop echoing like a slow, uneven heartbeat. The Talon's lantern lights flickered weakly against the jagged stone walls, casting distorted shadows that danced with every slight movement of the ship.
Kade kept her gaze fixed ahead, the enchanted patch over her left eye shifting to its night sight mode as she focused on the tunnel. Every detail leapt into sharp relief. Rusted chains dangling limply from old pulleys, jagged edges of rock that loomed perilously close to the ship’s rigging, and the faint, uneven surface of the water below. The cave was enormous enough to accommodate the Talon, but the passage felt too tight, too constraining. Every creak of the timbers seemed louder in the confined space.
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A yellow sign, half-peeled from the wall, was visible to the side. Authorized SMC Personnel Only. Welcome to Block Island Station it read. Well, at least they know they're in the right place. She thought.
"Helm, keep her steady," Kade said. "Trim the sails as needed. Don’t let her drift."
"Aye, ma’am," came the reply, followed by the soft rustle of fabric as the crew moved to adjust the rigging.
Bishop stood nearby, his presence solid but quiet. Kade could feel his gaze moving between the crew and the walls of the cave, his own unease as carefully concealed as hers. She didn’t need to speak to know they were thinking the same thing: this place was a tomb. Naval stations were supposed to be active. Buzzing with activity, defenses manned and ready. Yet all they’d found so far was emptiness.
"You think anyone’s even still here?" one sailor murmured from below.
"Feels like we’re sailing into a damn ghost town," another muttered back.
"Or a trap," someone added, their voice barely more than a whisper.
Someone sneezed. The sound felt sacrilegious in the silence.
Kade didn’t acknowledge the whispers, but the words hung in the air, amplifying the weight on her chest. The crew wasn’t wrong. Every instinct she had screamed that something was off. But whether it was an elaborate trap, or an abandoned station, she couldn’t tell. And that uncertainty gnawed at her.
"Ease the helm," she said. "Keep us centered."
The helmsman complied without question, the wheel turning with a soft groan as the ship adjusted course. The Talon glided forward, the steady motion only broken by the occasional shift of the crew as they trimmed the sails and adjusted lines. Kade’s eyes remained fixed on the tunnel ahead, her thoughts running through the possibilities.
Naomi Darkmoor was too careful to leave an entrance like this unguarded or trapped. She knew they'd be coming after her, so where was the diabolical counter-move she would have planned? If the station were operational, she wouldn't have been able to leave a trap behind. So where was everyone? Why did they leave it intact if it was abandoned? The questions circled endlessly in Kade's mind, each one unanswered. None of this made any sense.
A faint glint further down the tunnel caught her eye. A rusted chain dangling from the ceiling, swaying slightly in the draft. She frowned. The mechanisms lining the walls were old and unused, but still intact. Signs of wear and age were clear, but weren’t enough to suggest actual abandonment. The station felt like someone had left it in limbo. Neither fully operational nor completely deserted. If anything, she thought, someone intentionally made the chains and pulleys lining the wall look old and staged them to give the impression of abandonment. Secret Squirrels work in mysterious ways, she had once heard Captain Voss tell her. This had every hallmark of intense clandestine machinations.
"Rigging secure, ma’am," a sailor called softly.
"Good," Kade replied. "Keep an eye on walls. We don't want to scrape the sides."
The ship pressed deeper into the tunnel, the shadows thickening as the light from the entrance faded behind them. The lanterns struggled to keep the darkness at bay, their glow reflecting faintly off the damp rock. Every movement and sound seemed amplified in the silence.
Kade rolled her shoulders to clear the tension creeping higher up her back. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, though her patch revealed nothing but rock and rusted metal. It was a phantom sensation, impossible to place, but it prickled at the edges of her awareness.
The sailors below spoke in hushed tones, their voices barely audible above the groan of the ship’s hull.
"What if they’ve rigged the place to collapse?" one muttered.
"Then we won’t have time to worry about it," another replied grimly.
"Quiet," Bishop hissed. The voices stilled immediately.
Kade glanced at him briefly, appreciating the unspoken solidarity. He wouldn’t let their nerves spiral out of control, and neither would she. They were close now, the tunnel’s dimensions beginning to shrink as the faint glow could be seen way down the tunnel.
The walls pressed closer on either side, their jagged edges slick with moisture. Shadows danced wildly against the stone, their shapes shifting with every slight motion of the ship. The faint drip of water from above punctuated the heavy silence, each drop falling like the tick of an ominous clock. A heavier air pressed closer, along with the darkness, with every yard. The crew was becoming more nervous with each passing moment.
"Barely enough room to breathe in here…"
"Feels like the walls are closing in."
She ignored the comments, her attention fixed on the passage ahead. The ship groaned faintly as it adjusted course, a sound that echoed back to them in distorted tones. Kade’s stomach churned with unease, but she kept her face calm, her voice steady as she issued orders.
Then a sound. A low rumble that made her chest tighten. Initially faint and indistinct, it grew rapidly, reverberating through the surrounding rock.
Kade’s gaze snapped upward just as a cascade of rocks broke loose from the ceiling. The debris clattered onto the deck in a chaotic spray of stone and dust, the impact startling the crew. Fine grit rained down, coating the rails and rigging, and for a heartbeat, the ship felt eerily motionless. Several larger boulders bounced off the deck and side of the ship. It wasn't enough to cause any actual damage, but it could have been fatal if any of the crew had been struck.
The slide was minor, but the effect was immediate. A wave of nervous energy rippled through the crew as they glanced toward the ceiling, their faces pale in the lantern light.
Kade’s breath caught as she spotted something. A fleeting movement near the top of the cave, just above where the slide had begun. A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw a person-sized tunnel carved into the rock. The glint of metal caught her eye but the figure, if it was a figure, was gone before she could fully register it.
"Steady the helm," she said sharply, forcing her voice to remain calm. "Mr. Dunross, let’s keep her moving."
The helmsman and Malkik obeyed, and the ship eased back into alignment. Around her, the crew began clearing the scattered stones, their movements deliberate but tense.
"What was that?" one sailor muttered, breaking the uneasy silence.
"Just the rocks," another replied, though his tone lacked conviction.
"Sure didn’t feel natural," someone else added, their voice barely audible.
Kade barely registered the comments, or Bishop once again telling everyone to put a clamp on it. Instead, her mind lingered on what she thought she’d seen. Was it her imagination? A trick of the light? Or had someone, or something, been up there, watching them? The slide could have been natural, but the timing and the glint of metal made her stomach twist.
She caught a whisper of soft boots on wet steps coming up behind her. Turning, she saw Lawson emerge from the quarterdeck, climbing the narrow stairs to the aftcastle with practiced silence. He moved like someone used to bad news waiting at the top.
He came to stand beside her, scanning the ceiling, jaw tight. Silently, his tension mirrored hers. From the way his eyes tracked the shadows above, she guessed he’d caught the same flicker of movement or something close enough.
The light at the end of the tunnel grew larger as they drew close. Kade only hoped that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't a train.
The Horizon Talon pushed free of the tunnel and into a vast underground cavern. The shift from the confining rock walls to the sudden openness was almost jarring, the oppressive closeness giving way to a dark expanse that seemed to stretch infinitely upward. Lanterns aboard the ship cast their glow across the surface of the water, rippling faint reflections of the cavern’s features: towering stone walls carved with geometric precision, wide docks extending into the darkness, and platforms stacked with rusted equipment.
The Block Island Naval Station was as much a marvel as it was unsettling. Its massive dock system could berth half a dozen ships, each berth connected to a web of chains and pulleys dangling from the shadows above. Builders carved the station directly into the stone, and every line and surface exuded purpose.
Faint, flickering lights dotted the cavern, their cold, bluish glow casting uneven shadows. Kade frowned. They weren’t torches or lanterns. They had a magical quality, their light unnatural and intermittent. The flickering gave the impression of something malfunctioning, and that thought pricked at her unease. If the station’s lighting system was failing, what else might be broken?
As the Talon approached the docks, the crew spotted the Widow’s Grin berthed at the far end. Its silhouette was unmistakable, though the ship bore signs of recent violence. The hull had deep gashes, its railings splintered. Loose rigging hung like vines from the masts.
"Those marks," Bishop murmured, stepping up beside Kade. "That’s boarding action damage." His voice was low, measured. "Not from cannon fire and nothing like what we hit her with."
Kade didn’t respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as she studied the battered ship. The Widow’s Grin seemed lifeless. No lights. No movement. But the damage told a story of its own. Whatever had happened, it hadn’t happened in the open sea. This had been close-quarters combat.
"Something got to them before we did," she said finally, her voice quiet but sharp.
The Talon drifted closer to its assigned berth, and Kade shifted her focus to the dock itself. Uneven patterns flickered across the platforms and equipment as the eerie lighting continued. The faint sounds started as the ship slowed. A soft, rhythmic noise that seemed to echo from the stone walls. It wasn’t the lapping of water or the creak of timber. It was deeper, less predictable, like the cavern itself was alive with sound. Kade stiffened slightly.
"Steady as she goes," she said, her voice calm despite the tension coiling in her chest.
The crew worked quickly but quietly, their unease apparent in their silence. The Talon eased into the berth, its hull nudging against the dock with a faint groan. Sailors threw and secured the ropes, tightening the lines as they carefully made the ship fast. Every noise, no matter how small, seemed amplified in the cavern’s oppressive stillness.
Kade’s eyes caught a glint of metal on a distant platform, just beyond the reach of the flickering lights. She thought it might have been abandoned equipment, but the uncertainty gnawed at her.
"Ropes secure," one sailor called softly.
"Good," Kade replied. She turned to Bishop and Lawson, her expression firm. "Alright, we're going to go assume the base is under control of a hostile force until we prove otherwise."
"So we're going with the worst-case scenario plan. Three-way battle between us, the pirates, and the base forces?" Lawson asked.
"Correct. Bishop, you have the ship. Lawson, run the combat operations as you see fit. You're the anvil, and I'll be the hammer. Begin the operation. Good luck to us all."
Both men nodded, their movements brisk but subdued.
Kade moved without hesitation, her boots finding purchase on the slick wood of the dock as she slipped over the side to join the hand selected team assigned to her. Her steps were quiet, her senses alert. The team waited in a loose formation, their gear ready, their eyes scanning the shadows.
She glanced back toward the Talon, its lanterns casting faint halos of light that barely touched the cavern’s edges. The feeling of unseen eyes lingered, prickling the back of her neck.
"Let’s move," she said softly, as she slipped quietly into the water.
- Atmosphere first. From the instant the rain closed in, the chapter used sound and shadow as weapons. Every drip of water and echo of rock made you feel the walls inch closer.
- Kade’s command voice. Cool and precise, but you can sense the weight behind every decision. Perfect for this creeping under-the-gun infiltration.
- Foreshadowing everywhere. The flickers of hidden movement, the staged look of abandonment, and the soft mechanical rumble all hint that Block Island Station is not as empty as it pretends to be.
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