They had guns, which were useless; the pulse, which was only good for showing them where the deepship was; and nets, which would be great if they wanted to gather fish, but—that was it!

“Pine!” she shouted. “Get those trawler nets ready! We’re going fishing.”

The crew leapt into action. Pine shouted orders, and Blades stretched the nets across the quarterdeck. The ship rocked again, but the crew kept working, attaching bright orange buoys along the topside of the netting.

Sledge and Triple took four others down to the weapons locker and hauled up every large piece of artillery they could find, laying each one out on the deck for Caledonia’s perusal. There were missiles and cable mines and that deadly star blossom, which ejected hundreds of tiny metal pieces when detonated and could cut a crew to shreds. But the weapons Caledonia focused on were the harpoons.

These weren’t made for fishing, but for piercing a hull. Bullets used them to hook smaller ships and reel them in before they took on too much water. They were perfect.

“Net’s ready!” Pine called from the quarterdeck.

“Get every last one of those harpoons ready to go,” she ordered, turning her steps toward the bridge. “Harwell, I’m going to need you to hit that button again. Stand by.”

“Happy to, Captain!” he called, a new eagerness flushing his cheeks.

Caledonia swept her gaze across the deck and her new crew. Ten people stood with the nets at the rear of the ship, another six had loaded the harpoons and mounted them above the port railing. Still others had eyes trained on the surrounding ocean, searching for any new sign of trouble. She hoped this worked.

Another blast rocked the ship, pushing their tail in a partial spin.

“Hold steady!” Caledonia called as the ship regained its balance. “Now, Harwell!”

He hit the button. The air tightened with electricity, and the ship pulsed.

Caledonia watched the ripples, her sight snagging on the place where they bent around the shape of something just beneath the surface. It was smaller than she’d anticipated, smaller than the Beacon by at least half. They’d moved in closer, thinking they had the advantage. Caledonia smiled.

“We’re going to cut right across her nose, then make it look like we’re running,” she called to the bridge crew, stepping in to take the wheel. “We need to be fast, but not too fast. Propellers to quarter-power. Let’s keep the water as still as possible so Pine can get that net down.”

“What happens if they fire on us before we’re ready?” Harwell asked.

Caledonia offered a pinched smile. “Then this doesn’t work.”