The docking level was a dank, foul-smelling chamber that ran the entire length of the megaship. These were the tunnels Caledonia had spotted on their approach, which were the only way from one side of the Net to the other not threaded with traps. A broad dock extended down the center of two channels, allowing space for cargo to be onloaded and offloaded. The channels were too narrow for anything other than small vessels or barges. Perfect for transporting bale blossoms from the Bullet Seas to the rig, Silt from the rig to the Bullet Seas.

“Don’t take your eyes off them,” Caledonia said, tracking Tug as he threw a pack of seed brick into the forward compartment of the boat and barked an order at the deck crew.

Pine and Gloriana made expressions of such similar displeasure, they could have been related.

“The thing about being raised as Bullets?” Gloriana asked.

“We know better than to trust Bullets,” Pine finished, voice deep and quiet.

Tin and Folly were already in the boat, working with a Bullet named Sharp to store the supplies Tug was tossing their way. Sledge looked on from the dock, Nettle standing at his side as they called farewells to Pine. Pisces stood with Ares a few paces away from the group, their hands clasped tightly between them as he spoke to her in an urgent whisper.

When it was time to go, the whole crew loaded up and shoved off, traveling through the tunnel to the other side of the Net. In their wake, shark fins slashed at the dark water, searching for the chum Bullets so often tossed over.

Once they’d gone, the day was packed with preparations for the battle ahead. There were soldiers to transport from the stationary ships of the Net to the mobile fleet, systems to check, and weapons to ready. All of it required Caledonia and Tassos to be in constant contact with one another. It was not unlike being shackled at the wrist to a Fiveson. At least Caledonia could appreciate the irony in that.

The day had given her the opportunity to study the rig from a distance and consider the myriad protections Tassos had in place. She judged the distance between the megaship and the rig to be no more than a mile, and it stood on legs that must have been drilled down into the same bedrock as that of the Bone Mouth. She’d seen no traffic moving to or from it, which could only mean Tassos was truly out of the baleflowers he so desperately needed to make Silt.