Written in the style of Nightflyers by GRR Martin:

Nik Navarro entered the pilothouse. The floor creaked softly with the surf. “Evenin’ LaRoke,” he called.

Sophy glared at him from the console; deep bags gathered beneath eyes spent glued to the distance scanning for threats. A mug of tepid swampbrew cupped in her hands. “Parcher,” the slur rolled easily off her tongue, though fatigue tempered its blow.

“Get the last bearing from Nav?”

“Yes,” she snapped, suddenly alert with anger. “I’m the captain now and the Acadien is my ship. I’ve been aboard longer than your kind has trespassed beyond the Levee, and will remain long after you’re gone.”