For now, the Beacon was the only moving point in the entire bay, dragging a line of stirred water behind them as they headed for the open jetties. But that would change sooner than they liked. Caledonia studied the scene, letting possibilities spin quickly through her mind.

Of the many ships waiting in that harbor, maybe two of the larger vessels could give chase with enough speed to make a difference. It would take them several minutes to get underway. In the meantime, smaller vessels would dog the Beacon, forcing them to engage while the larger ships made ready to move in for the kill. Right now, her best hope was speed.

The jetty walls were moving again, only this time, they were closing. The structures moved much faster this time, creating great ripples as they traveled inward. If they closed before they got through them, there would be no escaping this bay. No way to reach her crew.

Though she’d anticipated this moment, Caledonia’s pulse jumped.

“Three ships in pursuit!” Pine called from the stern. “Two buzzers, one mag ship!”

She leapt down to the command deck and charged into the bridge. Nettle was driving them forward with a determined glare.

“Nettle, I need you to slow us down.” Caledonia called. “Just a bit.”

The girl turned to her in alarm. “This bucket is slow enough as is! They’ll catch us.”

“I need them to catch us,” Caledonia explained. “But it won’t be for long.”

Now the girl smiled, showing all her teeth. “It’s good to have you back. I mean, I guess it’s just good to be back.”

Caledonia gave the girl a tight smile before turning to Harwell. “Ready on the pulse on my mark, Harwell.”

“My pleasure,” he answered, standing ready at the console.

She moved to the command deck where wind whipped at her cheeks. The buzzers were doing exactly as she’d expected, harrying the Beacon along one side while the mag ship approached from the other. All three gained on the larger ship as ahead the jetty walls continued to close.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sledge said from his post at her shoulder.

“Trust me,” Caledonia answered.

The mag ship put on a burst of speed, darting forward and deploying its magnetized harpoons. She heard the thunk of each one attaching to the hull of the Beacon. Six tethers snapped tight, securely connecting the two ships. Then the mag ship cut its engines and tossed three sea anchors into its wake.

Pine’s gunners fired at will, forcing the mag ship crew to take cover. But the damage was done. The anchors sank, opening like canvas sails to fill with water and create enough drag to kill the Beacon’s speed.

Caledonia let the scene unfold, let the mag ship think they had her, let the buzzers break their own inertia as they slowed alongside the Beacon.