The Schooner in Sherman’s command emerged on the other side of a narrow gate of rocky heads, where the Solar Wind lay waiting. The sea over Canebo was green and foamy, lit up in reflection of the glorious sunset sky. The rain had blown over; the storm had moved on.
Paean glimpsed the beautiful scenery from the bridge of the Schooner. The sea never failed to leave her breathless with wonder. It took her back to the sunset yesterday, another perfect moment for her memory gallery. Peaceful, beautiful. Only twenty-four hours later, this: The system of reefs was graced with five ugly Rebellion Schooners and one Barracuda from Cuba. The sea was splashing up against them as though it had been doing so for centuries. Her skull hurt where the dratted Rebels had knocked her out. She wondered why Federi was taking so long.