They knew their luck would change.
They didn’t expect it to get worse.
 
Fleeing from a disastrous contract, the crew of the sky ship Warrior are desperate to return to good, old-fashioned piracy. They know a little light looting and perfectly peaceful pillaging will restore the con to ‘confidence’, the fun to ‘dysfunctional’, and the ease to ‘please can our lives be simple again?’.
 
If ‘simple’ means being atomised and remade on the whim of a malevolent and obsessive consciousness; magical meltdowns; crash landings; execution orders; fighting the dead, the nearly dead, the should-be dead and the triple-cooked gourmet dead - then their wish is about to come true.
 
Otherwise ─ no.
 
Destiny is waiting, ready to put the crew in ‘screwed’ and the die in ‘disobedience’, while the Warrior learns that Memory’s blissfully warm arms end in painfully sharp claws.