Danger on the High Seas (Closed)

[raiguy]

Captain Edward "Blackheart" Bertrand stood at the helm of his ship. It was a 38 gun man-of-war. He had captured it when he was only 14, becoming the youngest pirate captain to sail the Spanish Main. He also ran a larger ship than most pirates. Yet, he had never lost an encounter, and rarely took large amounts of damage from enemy ships. He quickly became one of the wealthiest pirate captains in the Caribbean.

Now, at the ripe age of 20, he stood looking out over the rolling clouds that were churning the waters in front of him. He knew that the ship he was running down wouldn't be able to outrun him. He was running a light load, ammunition and food only, and was easily running 2 to 5 knots faster than the merchant galleon ahead of him, slightly to the portside.

"Mr. Standish, up the mast to the nest. Call out range when we get within range of the fore guns. Once your glass can pick it up, let it be known if there be soldiers on the ship, or just merchants," he called out, watching his lookout scurry through the rigging.

He ran a tight ship, keeping his crew in line. They were pirates, but they had a code they obeyed, moreso than most crews. Women were not to be harmed, if a ship ran up the white flag, the skirmish was over, and prisoners were treated fairly, but made to work. That didn't mean that there were still incidents, and he had dealt with them coldly, often keelhauling the crew who broke code.

"Cap'n, range 1200. Give it until 900 before loosing the guns," Mr. Standish called from the nest.

Edward looked around, before looking at his men. "You heard him. Get fore to the guns and prepare to fire. Wait for my orders, else you'll lose out on your share of the loot," he said, paying particular attention to one Jim Rathers. Jim was disliked by the crew, but a standing rule on the ship was that no punishment was meted out unless the offender deserved it. Thus far, though the crew had tried, Mr. Rathers had yet to get into trouble.

"Steady on the guns, men!" Edward called, out, keeping on course. She was handling beautifully, he noticed. The new, improved rudder seemed to really be making a difference. He would have to reward his first mate, Mr. Barnes, for suggesting the idea. He could tack much faster, lining up shots, as well as avoiding them, that much easier.

"IN RANGE!" MR. Standish called from the nest.

"FIRE!" Edward yelled, tacking slightly to the starboard side. He had noticed that the wind was coming out that way, and his guns were firing a little to port anyways. The sharp report of the cannons let him know the encounter began. He steeled his face before shouting, "Loose sails! Gunners, man stations and prepare to fire. Stand by for orders!" he called out.

This particular merchant Galleon was in for a bad run in. He knew that there was valuable cargo in that hold, and knew what to do to get it. He saw the aft mast snap as one of the long guns seemed to get lucky. He remembered the chain shot that they had loaded and smiled. He quickly changed orders. "Empty cannons! Load chains only. No damage to the ship. We'll take her as a bounty and sell her at port!" he called, knowing that they would gain even more wealth that way, as well as less attention from the navies patrolling the waters.

 

[lil_abbygirl]

Ella slumped down in the corner of the room with exhaustion after cleaning the dishes from the afternoon meal. It was hot below deck, and her frilled white shirt was damp with sweat and clung to her body. She had underestimated how hot the ship would be when she stowed away, and had needed to modify most of her clothing. She had cut a long slit down the front of the shirt, from the neck to just below her breasts and kept it tied together with a string that she wove through the material, which she loosened now, showing a hint more cleavage than she dared when the men were around. She ran her hands through her black hair before resting her head back on the wall and closed her eyes.

There were moments, such as this one, when she wondered if she should have followed Captain Atherton's advice to get out at the first port, make a new life and avoid all the hardship that would come along with time at sea. She had been with the ship through three ports after leaving her home and life far behind. She was a stow away on the merchant vessel, found after only a day at sea, but instead of casting her out to die as many captains would have, Captain Atherton had allowed her to remain on board until they reached port as long as she worked. She spent her days, swabbing the deck, cooking for the crew and cleaning up after them. Those early days had been an exhilarating experience, on her own, off on an adventure to see the world.

The crew had taken a liking to her, which at times felt like a bit of a curse, awkward and out of place. The flirted with her and teased her, but not one of them dared lay a hand on her and Atherton's kind demeanor made her feel at home. When they arrived at that first port, Atherton approached her and said, "We will be docked for 6 hours, clear out or else you'll be stuck with us a while longer." His stern expression melted into a warm smile before he walked away. Five hours later, Ella was back on board, organizing the food and rationing it for the next leg of the trip.

She could hear commotion on deck above, but was too tired to check it out. Just adjusting the sails to steady their course she thought, but then there were shouts and quick footsteps. The men seemed to move with an uncharacteristic urgency that alarmed her, giving her the energy to rise to her feet and walk up the stairs to the deck. The sun hid behind a cloud, but it was still painfully bright. Captain Atherton was barking out orders and the men scrambled to follow them. The first mate, Mallot, caught sight of her and ran to where she stood. "Get below deck and stay there until we give you the ok. This is going to get bad."

Ella scrambled back down the stairs, her heart racing as she wondered what was happening. Moments later she heard the loud boom of canons in the distance, then a louder crack of wood right above her. She let out a scream, certain that something was about to crash down on top of her. The ship shook, then more canon fire, the sound growing louder with each shot. There was a hideous shriek that made Ella feel nauseous, as she wondered what the hell it could have been. Mallot was right. This was bad.

Her eyes shot open with the next sound, not the boom of a canon or the sounds of the ship breaking apart. It was the squeal of the pulley lowering the life boats. "Fuck!" she cursed and ran for the stairs, losing her balance and falling against a wall as the ship shook violently with another crack of wood. She got back to her feet and climbed the stairs. The deck was littered with broken wood, the sails were shredded. She ran to the edge of the deck, watching the crew row away. "You fucking bastards!" she screamed out at them in a rage, banging on the rail. "Bastards!" She whirled around at the sight of another ship pulling along side. Then her eyes dropped to the wreckage on the deck and she sank to her knees. Lying beneath one of the masts of the ship was Captain Atherton, motionless and pale.

 

[raiguy]

Edward stood, overlooking the wreckage of the merchant ship. He had hoped to take some prisoners to help sail the ship home. Instead, he was left with a deserted ship. He called for grapnels to secure the ships alongside each other, and then threw a plank across. He was the sole person to move across, wanting to make sure that there was no damage to the cargo.

He quickly and agilely slid across the plank, coming to rest on the deck of the vessel. She was a sleek craft, designed more for speed than safety. If he hadn't had the ship he did, he might like this one. He'd have to put more guns on it, but otherwise, she looked like she'd be able to do 20 knots easily. He had learned how to calculate speed of vessels, as well as navigation, from an old navy captain who had raised him as a young boy.

He moved across the deck, seeing one of the fore masts hanging on by splinters, with the main mast collapsed onto the deck. There were splinters all over the deck from where the chain shot had torn through the wood. He was making his way to the cargo bay when he saw it. He shook his head and wished that weren't the case.

He made his way over to the body, seeing that it was clearly the captain. He knew that captains rarely were down on the main deck when navigating. He looked the body over again and saw it. There was a gunshot wound. He looked at it and realized who the only person that could have done it was. It also made sense as to why he was on the deck. The force of the bullet had thrown him from the wheel, over the rail, to the deck below. He was going to confiscate Rathers' weapons and keep him under watch from now on.

Edward sighed, before making his way to the cargo hold. He could see there was no damage, so smiled at that small gain. He heard footsteps above him and quickly made his way to the deck, seeing someone standing over the dead captain. He drew his sword and pistol and calmly aimed at this boy. "Do you surrender?" he asked, touching the muzzle of his pistol against the back of the lad's head. When he turned, Edward started. This was no boy, it was a girl!