attacking prongs. The rest of you will also develop similar upgrades soon, but your ability to handle them will vary until you learn control."
"You've infected us and control us?" demanded Fitch in fear.
"No!" shouted Mechatronic emphatically, her eyes flashing at the accusation. "I would never attempt that, not after what I—" The silver woman stopped and controlled herself, the look of anguish on her face disappearing as she bit down on her emotions. "You are not being changed mentally, you are still… you. Do not be afraid, but trust me," she said, imploringly. "Let go of all thought and simply react—your instinct and the technology within you will harmonize and work together. Let your thoughts go, be of the moment and we shall live!"
"So, we are affected by this technology but remain mentally unchanged," spoke Hartwell, his voice and tone calm and measured to reassure the crew, though he was as frightened as they were. He was also furious with Mechatronic, who was clearly in some way responsible for the changes within them. "We are the same people we ever were, you are still the same crew and I would not change you for any other, not now, not ever. You are still you," he added gently to Susanna. "I still love you as much. Nothing can change you on the inside. Your character, your courage, your loving nature—all these are the true Susanna Hartwell."
The door slammed open again and the crew looked to see Fleetwood, red in the face, exhorting his terrified crew. "They're still human!" he screamed. "They will still be split by good steel and die like vermin. Get in there and kill them!" Despite his words, his men still appeared undecided on entering the room of the damned.
"I will lead the way," shouted Fleetwood, finally realizing that a direct example was required. "Follow me!" He rushed back into the room, expecting to see that his opponents would be too demoralised by their demonic possession to fight back. Instead, he saw a crew scared but defiant and which looked as always to their respected captain for guidance and leadership.
"I'll kill you!" screamed Fleetwood, conscious even in his rage that Hartwell had somehow proved to be the better man again. His inferiority complex, nurtured day by day at seeing Hartwell's superb running of both ship and crew in peace and in battle, finally exploded as he saw that even when faced by the powers of Hell, the crew still believed in Hartwell and followed him willingly. He screamed in searing hatred as he bounded forward, swinging his sword.
Hartwell turned to meet him, suppressing all fear at what was happening to his beloved sister and crew, finding the central point of calm, rational logic and parried Fleetwood's frenzied blows, waiting until his opponent lunged so wildly he threw himself off balance, at which Hartwell impaled Fleetwood through the heart.
Fleetwood looked down in dumb amazement at the sword piercing his chest. He blubbered in fear and his bowels loosened as his body told his brain that it was split.
Hartwell pulled the sword backward and Fleetwood, denied the only support keeping him upright, crumpled to the floor. He landed full length, his face smacking off the bare, splintered floorboards, where he stared in astonishment as the light faded from his eyes.
haptereventeen
" hey're demons!" shouted a voice from outside. "They burn with their hands and survive death!"
Hartwell saw that the rest of Fleetwood's crew, having witnessed the past few minutes, were unwilling to continue the fight without enlisting the help of the patrons of the inn.
"They have gold!" shouted one of the more devious thugs.
"And women!" shouted another.
"And they are damned!" yelled a third. "God shall protect us against them."
"Kill the demons!"
"Pray for the demons and let the Lord's light shine upon them," cried a familiar voice. The crew looked through the door
"You've infected us and control us?" demanded Fitch in fear.
"No!" shouted Mechatronic emphatically, her eyes flashing at the accusation. "I would never attempt that, not after what I—" The silver woman stopped and controlled herself, the look of anguish on her face disappearing as she bit down on her emotions. "You are not being changed mentally, you are still… you. Do not be afraid, but trust me," she said, imploringly. "Let go of all thought and simply react—your instinct and the technology within you will harmonize and work together. Let your thoughts go, be of the moment and we shall live!"
"So, we are affected by this technology but remain mentally unchanged," spoke Hartwell, his voice and tone calm and measured to reassure the crew, though he was as frightened as they were. He was also furious with Mechatronic, who was clearly in some way responsible for the changes within them. "We are the same people we ever were, you are still the same crew and I would not change you for any other, not now, not ever. You are still you," he added gently to Susanna. "I still love you as much. Nothing can change you on the inside. Your character, your courage, your loving nature—all these are the true Susanna Hartwell."
The door slammed open again and the crew looked to see Fleetwood, red in the face, exhorting his terrified crew. "They're still human!" he screamed. "They will still be split by good steel and die like vermin. Get in there and kill them!" Despite his words, his men still appeared undecided on entering the room of the damned.
"I will lead the way," shouted Fleetwood, finally realizing that a direct example was required. "Follow me!" He rushed back into the room, expecting to see that his opponents would be too demoralised by their demonic possession to fight back. Instead, he saw a crew scared but defiant and which looked as always to their respected captain for guidance and leadership.
"I'll kill you!" screamed Fleetwood, conscious even in his rage that Hartwell had somehow proved to be the better man again. His inferiority complex, nurtured day by day at seeing Hartwell's superb running of both ship and crew in peace and in battle, finally exploded as he saw that even when faced by the powers of Hell, the crew still believed in Hartwell and followed him willingly. He screamed in searing hatred as he bounded forward, swinging his sword.
Hartwell turned to meet him, suppressing all fear at what was happening to his beloved sister and crew, finding the central point of calm, rational logic and parried Fleetwood's frenzied blows, waiting until his opponent lunged so wildly he threw himself off balance, at which Hartwell impaled Fleetwood through the heart.
Fleetwood looked down in dumb amazement at the sword piercing his chest. He blubbered in fear and his bowels loosened as his body told his brain that it was split.
Hartwell pulled the sword backward and Fleetwood, denied the only support keeping him upright, crumpled to the floor. He landed full length, his face smacking off the bare, splintered floorboards, where he stared in astonishment as the light faded from his eyes.
haptereventeen
" hey're demons!" shouted a voice from outside. "They burn with their hands and survive death!"
Hartwell saw that the rest of Fleetwood's crew, having witnessed the past few minutes, were unwilling to continue the fight without enlisting the help of the patrons of the inn.
"They have gold!" shouted one of the more devious thugs.
"And women!" shouted another.
"And they are damned!" yelled a third. "God shall protect us against them."
"Kill the demons!"
"Pray for the demons and let the Lord's light shine upon them," cried a familiar voice. The crew looked through the door
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