Caledonia was momentarily stunned. This was no ordinary ship. Getting grappled by an assault ship was bad enough, but the Titan could wrap her arms around the Luminous Wake like a giant squid. Letting themselves be caught would put them in the greatest danger.

And it was precisely the right move.

“Let’s do it,” she said decisively. “Nettle, you know what to do. Oran, you have the bridge.”

“Where are you going?” he asked in mild alarm.

“To get a surprise for Aric.”

Nettle adjusted their approach, and the crew raised heavy shields along the starboard rail, providing cover from gunfire as she drew nearer. It wouldn’t be long before they were fully alongside Titan.

Caledonia raced to the weapons locker. The belly of the ship smelled faintly of smoke, and the sounds of the battle were muffled by the dense hull. Sweat cooled against her brow as she reached the locker she was looking for and removed the one weapon she thought she’d never use. The star blossom.

It was a heavy sphere with a carbon shell. Inside were hundreds of pieces of metal shaped like stars. When the bomb exploded, the shards would rip into flesh with lethal force. It was a terrible, cruel kind of weapon. And right now, Caledonia didn’t have any other option.

Cradling the device in her arms, she hurried topside where the Luminous Wake was drifting very near to Titan. Nettle had done her job perfectly. She’d sailed with bravado, tricking the Bullets into acting on instinct. They readied their grappling hooks, shouting orders across the deck, raising their voices in an intimidating roar.

Caledonia took a steadying breath. Blood. Gunpowder. Salt. And she watched the gathering force with a growing sense of dismay. There were more of them than she’d imagined. Her crew was nothing compared to so many. But they’d stopped firing, which could only mean Aric wanted her alive.

“Captain,” Oran said, once again coming to her side. “Do you mean to use that?”

She looked down at the bomb in her hands and swallowed hard. This was one of the Steelhand’s creations, designed for cruelty. None knew that so well as Oran himself.

“I do.”

Oran hesitated as though he wished for a better option than the one she held. He studied the device as though it pained him to see it and for a moment, Caledonia felt certain he would ask her not to use it. Then he said, “Let me do it.”

“Oran, no,” she said instantly.

“Please, Caledonia, you don’t know what this will do,” he said with a deepening frown. “I don’t want this for you.”