Well then. It seemed the knife Winkie had used as a child had poked all the way through her skull to the brain. She had the voice of a songbird. And the brain of one too it seemed. The moments ticked by for Mama after the commotion before finally she had enough, and swearing all the way under her breath she made her way right back down, even passing the girl sitting herself on a barrel and leisurely tying knots whilst singing. Again. The back of Agatha's remaining fingers itched to strike across the girls face, but alas, there was work to do and she wasn't in the business of teaching lessons. Atleast the beast that killed her own eye had left her bloody brain in tact. One brisk limp to the ladder and back would fetch the plainly lain out rope she had left for Winkie and the other supplies, Extra wood slung over her shoulder, rope and sack under her arm.

On her way back out, that Winkie was still singing. For heavens sake. They'd all be having a lovely meal of hardtack and gruel tonight, the lot of them. Lefarge would be getting an extra sodden biscuit in reward for throwing Mama about and causing her to have to do THIS kind of work.

James would find his plans to go rather smoothly as Mama had seemingly already instructed deck monkeys on what they should be doing to repair any possible damage, and the supplies were all right on hand. It just took someone brave enough to go over. Normally, Mama would have done it, but the fuming cook had decided that today she owed none of them any favors.

She was back down in her kitchen now, now that Oliver wasn't at the helm, chancing to light the coals and prepare a rather unsavory gruel. Gruel with dried lime powder. Even better. Bitter. As she waited for it to cook she'd be wiping down her arms legs and hair in a bucket of water she was keeping in case of fire, giving herself a rag bath as she cursed lightly under her breath. Eventually she'd get all that hair washed and she'd end up curled in the corner, watching that stove from a pile of burlap and old quilts. Damp and irritated. Alone, except the lemur snoozing on a counter top.

Oliver kicked the lower deck open and swung his form down into the dingy interior of the ship, carefully stepping as the ship swayed too and from. "Hello!" Oliver called down the length of the hull. "Hello! Helmsman in need of his Navigator!" He cried, waiting for someone to respond...

Winikie smiled as she tied the last knot in the rope, she reached over and picked up the bit of scrap wood and headed back to James. "Aye sir I brought what ya needed, I tired my best to make sure the knots were right" she said as she set down the bit and pieces that she was cradling. She walked over and looked around James shoulder "So sir ya think ya found a clear path yet" she asked. While standing there she heard a scream "What in Gods name was that?" she asked looking around the room but not sure where the sound was coming from she decided to shake it off. "So is there anything else ya be need'n", she asked.

Oh god. It lived. Mama would peer through the Galley door at Oliver, hackles rising before she limped her way back into the kitchen and shut the door. She didn't end there either. She'd barricade the door with one of those sacks of sand before returning back to her burlap pile to watch the stove. He'd be having the soggiest, sorry biscuit she could find with his bitter gruel. Of course he'd be rewarded with silence and the groaning of the ship in response.

James smiled as the cute cabin girl returned with the rope and the wood.

"Thank you very much, Ms. Winkie," he said cheerfully. He glanced down at the map again. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. The closest thing to a clear path I've found is a straight line down the center of the Rocks, but I have a nagging feeling that's not it. It's too easy.

"Hell, I have no idea why the captain is even interested in sailing there anyway." The last part was a lie. He jumped when he heard the scream, but figured it was probably the poor helmsman getting his balls ripped off by the captain for bumping into something before quite leaving port.

"I won't be needing anything right now," James told Winkie. "But once we're really underway, I'm going to need someone to turn one of the hour glasses for me." He guestured to a cabinet where he'd found several small hour glasses. "If you're not busy, that'd be really helpful." As he spoke, James could help but allow his eyes to roam across Winkie's body, taking her in in all her beauty.

Marco had been dozing in his own little hammock as the men ran around, nearly done. It was actually quite convenient for him to be awoken by a very harsh sounding scream, but never the less he hated being wakened from his sleep like that. He peer his head out of the door and yelled back to the man. "Maybe you should try LOOKING!" He didn't yell nearly as loud as the voice, who he had now deduced as Olivier, but it was loud enough for him to hear and for probably the rest of the crew as well. He wasn't in the greatest of moods when he came out of sleep, but that wasn't always his own fault.

He turned back to his powder monkey squad, who had finished a few minutes before he had actually awaken, which made him smile. "Glad to take a little break? Good. You may keep taking your break gentlemen, for in a few minutes I'll be teaching you how to fire those beauts over there." He got that smile he always wore when he started talking about firing: way too giddy, almost bordering maniacal. "By the time I'm done with you, those cannons will be hittin' ships at least 1000 yards away, if not more." Some of the crew members dropped their jaws, while the other monkeys snickered at his outlandish claim. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not BangMan McDonald for nothing." That shut the entire troop right up, and he smiled before turning back.

"5 minutes."

Winkie nodded "Aye sir I'd be happy to help ya" after being released from Jame for the moment, she decided to try to find out what the scream was all about. On a ship this size their had to be a reason for it. But when she headed to the captains cabin she was turned away being told she could go in for now. She shook her head and decided to head on the deck. She was tired of being below, she wanted feel the breeze, and smell the salty sea air. She got up on deck everyone was doing their jobs as ordered, she she leaned on the railing watching the waves crash up against the boat humming to herself.

He could see the entrance wound and knew right off the bat that there couldn't be an exit wound. It seemed to be what the Americans used against the Mexicans called buck and ball; a large bullet followed by small pellets that shredded through men like a poorly-made flag. Of course, these white folks weren't as tough as his kinsfolk, or even some of the Mexicanos he'd treated. No, indeed, this white woman was going to be dead within the next few seconds. He took ahold of her hand and did what he could to comfort her, speaking a prayer quietly in his native tongue before allowing the girl to clutch a set of Christian rosaries tightly.

"Go with what Lord yours. Your time good. Save room for me, ah?"

She wasn't paying attention, he didn't think, because she was dead within the span of his next breath. With a bowed head, he closed her eyes, performed the last rites that he knew to the best of his knowledge, and covered her head with the bandana that had bunched off of her head in the action. There was nothing left to do but let her pards know what had happened to his knowledge. He followed his path from the room he'd occupied for medical service back through a hall and to the woman that he had relieved from caring for the wounded girl, news hanging on his tongue as he approached.

"No good. Buck and ball, up into chest from stomach. Breathing bad. Spirit away. What her name was, ah?"

It wasn't long and before she knew it the old man had returned,
"No good. Buck and ball, up into chest from stomach. Breathing bad. Spirit away. What her name was, ah?"
It took a moment for her to register what he was saying. But at that moment she clicked out of this state and went back to being the hardened Captain. Standing up a little straighter and putting on a stern face she replied to him.
"Her name was Azalea Gordon. And good sir what be yours?"
She listened to his reply and once he was finished she called back the lad that was standing a bit away. {OOC - Seeks put a small reply}
"Lad! C'mere, I have a duty fer you. Get some more lads and with some ol' quilt and rope, wrap Azzy up and call me when ye done. Right?"
He nodded and disappeared as quickly as he could. With that she led Seeks-That back to her cabin. As they went back up deck some of the crew members stopped and stared. Some looked like they wanted to approach her and ask her what happened. She simply raised her hand and said in her strong voice,
"I shall address ye all later, at this moment I shall clean meself up and have a chat with Master Seeks. Ot'erwise yous best be getting back to yer duties!"
Finished she kept walking and escorted the navajo man into her cabin. She indicated that he take a seat and she proceeded to take hers on the other side of the desk.
"She had no hope did she?" Val whispered before shaking the morbid thoughts off her mind and continuing with what she planned on saying to him, "What do ye know? Of medicine that be. Are ye willing to take the position as new doctor aboard this ship?"
Secretly Val desperately hoped so. This old man looked like he had years of experience and had a steady character when dealing with a crisis. She needed men like him. If only he had a younger body but then again he didn't seem like he was struggling or arthritic despite his aged look. She leaned forward and rested her chin on the linked hands and waited for his say.

Wearily the Navajo man took his seat opposite Val. His eye's taking in her cabin. He took his time replying to Val not feeling any need to address her until he was ready. Finally he said,

"I be good healer. Many years. On white ship and for village ah. Know many things. Can heal but girl... Az-zay no hope." he was saying as he shook his head.

Val nodded pleased with his answer. There was no foolishness in his voice and she appreciated that after Oliver. She was thoughtful for a moment, before she asked.

"So I will take it that you'll accept the position?" He simply nodded, "Good, good. Now I've reason to believe that your probably a religious man. I need to hold a funeral fer the poor girl and release her spirit. There is no way I be letting my ship be haunted and there be murmurings starting already that her death be a bad omen. Not atta the start'a my journey am I letting these bloody sayings ruin me!" She calmed herself before she continued talking, "I need you to perform a ceremony, I don't care what language ye do it in I jus' need it done. I'll be saying a few words to make sure that there be no more bad omens hangin' ova my ship."

As she finished talking there was a knock on her door. Val pushed her chair back, stood up and heavily made her way to the door. Opening it she found the young lad from before,

"Cap'n, the body's been wrapped up good'n proper."

"Excellent. Go find the quartermaster and first mate. I'll be needing them to haul her up to the deck to give 'er a proper ceremony. I shall be waiting by the helm with master Mau- LeFarge..."

The boy left and Val closed the door. Not moving from her spot she said to the Navajo man.

"I don't even know your name..."

"Seeks-That-Which-Conquers-The-Water" He said matter-of-factly.

"But Seeks is also good." He chuckled to himself and got up. He made his way to Val and she opened the door to him.

"I come when ready."

With that he was gone and Val was left alone. Feeling like there was no point staying in her cabin she made her way up to Oliver but found that he was gone and in his place the relief helmsman.

"Duceyae! Where may I ask is Master LeFarge?"

Seemingly unbothered he grunted his reply,

"Down looking for ze navigator."

"Oh really. Well I shall just have to await his return shall I?"

Duceyae shrugged, just content to take control of the steering.

Now all Val had to do was wait for Marie and Johnny to bring the body up on deck and they could begin the funeral and be get on with their journey. Val's heart did clench only slightly that she had lost one already so early in the quest but grateful that on board was another to replace her. She just hoped that Azzy's death wasn't too much of a bad omen and that with the correct rights given to her body that they wouldn't obtain any more bad luck.

While the crew ran around and prepared to practice firing, Marco set off. He needed to speak with the captain soon; he didn't want to check the weapons room during a little skirmish, only to find out somebody screwed up the black powder, or the guns weren't working. Well, can't say that. I heard that they were working a little too well... He thought to himself, neither smiling or saddened. He had not a clue what had happened, who might have been injured or killed, for it mattered not to him. Casualties were a fact on a pirate ship, hell they were all going to die if they got caught. Though, to be shot so early into a voyage... Cap'an's either more trigger happy than I can be, or something went wrong. See, this is why I check that kind of thing... He sighed, annoyed, as he searched the lower deck of the ship. He ran into that boy once more after a minute, who told him that the Captain had gone above deck, and Marco nodded. Before leaving, Marco turned and stared into the kid's eyes, the obviously terror-stricken face and shock filled eyes really showing how young the boy really was. Marco then turned around and head up onto the deck, leaving the kid behind to contemplate whatever he was so worried about.

He made his way onto the deck and found the Captain near the relief helmsman, and he gave a little sigh of relief. He really didn't want to deal with bullshitter Helmsman - he really needed to find out that guy's name - so he was quite pleased that he was doing something else with his time. He approached the captain, and gave a little head bow before speaking.

"Cap'an. Reporting in on the cannons." He was adding a little too much formality for his tastes, but he had to sound somewhat sincere. Sure, death had become something to him that was unavoidable, and he already embraced it, but that didn't mean he could just go around and not care about everybody else. Though that was what he normally did... "They're in tip-top shape, and my monkeys will be getting ready to practice in a few minutes, unless something has come up..." He cursed in his mind, knowing that he probably shouldn't have mentioned that he basically knew what happened already. He sighed, and then continued.

"I must also, according to the lad below deck, request permission to enter the weapons room to inspect the powder and maintnence of the weaponry. Don't want anything going wrong now.." He mentally cursed again. Make one more ironic remark and she'll probably cut your tongue out McDonald! He quickly thought of what he was going to say next, like he was pausing for effect, then spoke one more time. "Basically I'm asking if I can get that permission needed ma'am."

Val was staring out over the sea, the breeze flowing through her hair. She was lost in her thoughts as she waited for the body to be brought up on deck. She almost didn't notice the Guns master making his way up to the Helm. She moved towards the stairs as he made his way up and seeing her there he stopped halfway up. She looked down at him with her steely glare. Already she had shown to much compassion and she needed to restore some of her former 'don't f**k with me' persona. Marco bow slightly acknowledging her status before speaking,

"Cap'an. Reporting in on the cannons. They're in tip-top shape, and my monkeys will be getting ready to practice in a few minutes, unless something has come up... I must also, according to the lad below deck, request permission to enter the weapons room to inspect the powder and maintnence of the weaponry. Don't want anything going wrong now... Basically I'm asking if I can get that permission needed ma'am."

Val wasn't stupid. She knew nearly everyone on board would have heard the shot. But it was a matter of what the rumors were saying. She decided she didn't like how he was implying something was wrong with her weapons. She had spent years acquiring the top of the range weapons for this ship and getting those bloody cannons... Well that's another story but the one weapon she had decided to keep of her old Captain ended up killing her doctor on the first day. Either he was telling her something from the afterlife or this voyage was going to be harder than she thought. She eyed Marco probably more harshly than she needed but she was angry. Not so much at him but at the whole situation and just about anything was going to be an irritating fly at the moment.

"Master McDonald," She pronounced his name slowly, "There has been an accident in the weapons room and our doctor has jus passed..." She let it sink in what she was saying, "Tha quartermaster and first mate ar retrieving the body as we speak." She slowly descended the steps so that she was only two above him, "An' I know my cannons be in tip-top shape I make sure o' that personally. Them weapons in the room are of the best quality and if ye be implying that they are any less I may not be feeling so kind. An jus for you McDonald that accident had nothing to do with my weapons." She hadn't realised she had started to lean forwards so she stood straighter and continued, "Ye may go inspect the room after the body's been removed and since ye seem to be so eager to see it ye've just volunteered to clean up the blood!" she smiled a little cruel. She had no reason really to be so harsh but he had caught her in one of her bad moods. As a second thought she pulled out the gun that had shot Azzy, somehow she had managed to place it in her belt holder, "This here be the gun that killed her," she tossed it down to him, "I'm sure you can tell wit your keen eye why she had been killed. Was no random act o' cruelty if that be what your thinking, that guns ready to go off any second." She turned her back to him and made her way back up the stairs, "Oh an' McDonald," she called over her shoulder, "I be holding a ceremony for Azzy so fer practice ye monkeys can fire some practice shots in honour o her."

With that he was dismissed and she stood back beside the relief helmsman, her eyes glued to the horizon. She was overwhelmed with emotions at the moment and the only way she could deal was with malice. Of course it wasn't really the way to impress Marco but she didn't not give a shit at this point in time.

Oliver lay on the wheel lazily, having given up on finding the navigator. "And then there's Marie," He rambled on as he flung the wheel to the side just for fun, giving them sharp turn on the waves. "I'm not sure about her. Before we left we had some kind of one night relation."

"Why, in God's name, did you t'ink t'at was a good idea Mi'ser Swo'k?" Duceyae asked as he lit his pipe.

"It was before I knew, I don't know..." Oliver muttered. "I was under the impression she was a... lesser woman than she is. Not a whore but... a girl who worked on the fields and then went to town for fun on the weekends, if you understand."

"So what are you going to do?" Duceyae asked again as he stood up and looked behind them.

"What can I do? She's my commanding officer, no changing that. And she seems fine with it," Oliver replied. "It's just... well you should never get personal with your commanders. It makes it extra hard when you betray them."

Duceyae turned to Oliver with a raised eyebrow. "A joke," Oliver assured, not very convincingly.

"There's a s'ip following us, by the way." Duceyae commented. "The Duchess. I believe you rammed into her back at the harbour."

"Aye, Captain Thomas and his crew," Oliver muttered as he glanced out at the vague outline of a ship in their backward horizon. "I hope they're not angry."

As Val approached the helm Oliver stood aside...

Somewhere between talking to Marco Oliver had slipped past and had retaken the helm. He was talking to Duceyae about Marie she thought she heard. As she walked up to him he stood aside from the helm and she just caught the end of "I hope they're not angry."

Suspicious Val looked out to the open waters,
"Master Duceyae, hand me the telescope." She held out her arm for him to hand her the telescope. When the heavy metal object was in her hand she placed it to her good eye and stared at the little black smudge on the horizon. It was a ship and if she wasn't mistaken it happened to be the one that bloody Oliver rammed before. Now was not the time to deal with pissed off captains. Handing back the telescope she took the helm in one hand and started turning it round back in the direction of the ship.

"Now master LeFarge, you've caused this bloody mess now your skills are going to be put to the test. Duceyae, may you alert Master McDonald that his practice is coming."

To herself she mumbled something about timing for a funeral.

"ALERT ALL YE BASTARDS! ALL HANDS TO YE STATIONS. WE BE HEADING INTO TROUBLE!

She called out and handing Oliver the helm back she strode down and started yelling orders.

"Lad that rigging needs to be tighter!" She marched over to a young man probably only six years younger than herself. She grabbed the ropes from his hand and started tying the knots. She got up and proceeded to shout orders and checking on everyone. She had to find Johnny and Marie, Azzy would have to hold on.

James could feel the ship picking up speed. From the porthole in his cabin, he could see the headlands outside Glendamn Bay crawling past. They must have passed the breakwater and the shoals along the coast; and were letting out full sail. Time to head back out to take a speed reading. It felt rather wierd not being present on deck for departure, but James was now a member of the crew, not an officer anymore. Taking his rope and one of the hour glasses, he headed topside. Now where is that cute cabin girl. I'm in need of her services...

Outside, James was hit by the crisp smell of the salt air and the wind whipping in his face. Sailors were unfurling the sails and adjusting the ropes. The ship was picking up speed as more sails were deployed. As James headed over toward the stern of the ship, he was almost run over by the captain, who was moving like a hurricane across the deck. James stumbled back, almost dropping his hour glass. He could tell something wasn't right. The way the captain was moving suggested a sense of urgency, and unless she was over-anxious to go after this Jewel thing, there should have been no reason for her to be in such a rush to get out of port.

"Captain!" he gasped, forgetting for a moment he wasn't an officer. "What in God's name is going on? First we hit something, and now you're running around like we've got to get somewhere in a hurry. And we're barely even a league outside the breakwater. Is everything okay?"

Marco noticed that she was staring down at him with a hard glare, but he dismissed it instantly. He had no care for those who needed to be harsh and rude to get things done, since he rarely listened to them anyway. Master McDonald she drew his name out unnecessarily. There has been an accident in the weapons room and our doctor has jus passed... Well, the shot was quite obvious... but the doctor passing on? Hm... he pondered what would happen if they didn't have somebody with a medical background as she continued. Tha quartermaster and first mate ar retrieving the body as we speak. Johnny Flintlock and First Mate Slut huh? Marcus gave a small smirk as the captain kept going.

An' I know my cannons be in tip-top shape I make sure o' that personally. Them weapons in the room are of the best quality and if ye be implying that they are any less I may not be feeling so kind. An jus for you McDonald that accident had nothing to do with my weapons. He nodded his understanding, even if it didn't make much sense. How can an accident with a gun not have anything to do with her weapons? Was she saying that it was somebody else's weapon just laying below deck and it wanted to shoot, so it did? Marco was starting to believe that Cap'an Val was trying to take the blame off of herself and not take responsibility. Until she finally straightened her crooked pose and had to punish him for no apparent reason. Ye may go inspect the room after the body's been removed and since ye seem to be so eager to see it ye've just volunteered to clean up the blood! Marco raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed with the Captain's decision. Now she was either trying to regain her authority by punishing him, or she was just trying to piss him off. Either answer didn't make him any happier.

"This here be the gun that killed her, She tossed the gun down to him, and he grabbed it normally, until he saw the gun itself, to which he reacted suddenly by handling it with more care: The whole firing mechanism was loosely fit together after years of low maintenance, and even the slightest touch to the trigger or the hammer would set it off. "I'm sure you can tell wit your keen eye why she had been killed. Was no random act o' cruelty if that be what your thinking, that guns ready to go off any second. He nodded, looking up at her with a perplexed face. Oh, so NOW she wants my help... he sighed, annoyed at the situation, until she suggested that they use the practice shots to honor the doc. He nodded, walking downstairs and grumbling. He wasn't liking this at all, and he would rather not go check the weapons room for now.

He spat out his orders for the monkey's to get ready for practice until he heard the roar of the Captain and the relief helmsman running down the stairs and turning to face him. "Master McDonald!" Marco nodded to the man as he continued. "Captain would like to inform you of the Duchess that has been trailing us. Val would also like to say that 'your practice is coming." Marco began to smile as the man ran off, and that smile never left as he roared out.

"Alrighty boys, time to see how well you can do on another ship!" As the monkeys ran around, he headed up to the deck to see what he would be sinking and smiled. He could feel his blood starting to pump faster as he watched the ship descend on them. BangMan McDonald was ready to sink another.

Johnny had just finished conversing with Marie, who seemed like a fine lass if a bit.......well, you know. he had also finished with the crew quarters and was just about to move on when the same boy as before came running up to them. "Sir, Sir!" Johnny looked down at him sternly, the kid looked like he was about keel over. "What is it lad?" The boy kept panting, then caught his breath. He looked up at both him and Marie and spoke. "Cap'n has requested that you two get Ms. Gordon's body ready to rest." Johnny had a puzzled look on his face for a moment, but things soon became clear. "So her name was Gordon....wait a minute, Gordon?" He knew he had seen that name somewhere. After a moment of contemplation, he remembered. "Azzy Gordon? The ship's doctor? Well isn't that a fine fiddle.." He sighed for moment, hands on his hips. He then raised his head and made a motion directed at Marie. "Come on, we better go make sure she's all nice and pretty and what not." he said, sounding rather annoyed.

About half way across the ship, he stopped. He heard screaming voices above deck. One in particular caught his attention, it was the Captain's. He turned to Marie. "We better go see what's going on, come on." He then turned around and started moving his ass to the top of the deck. When he got there, the men were all over the place and the Captain's face was a red as a tomato. He looked across the stern of the ship and saw a ship hot on their trail. He ran all the way to the stern, running right past the helmsman. He focused his eyes on the ship. "The Duchess, eh?" He then tried to guess the number of the crew. Looked to be about 20-23 men on deck, who knows how any more below. He then turned around, knowing what to do, ran up to the Captain. "Captain, I'll take over here. Apologies for being late." He said with a genuine tone, then turned around. "ALRIGHT MEN, YOU'RE NOT NEWBORNS! YOU KNOW THE DRILL! BATTLE STATIONS! BATTLE STATIONS! BATTLE STATIONS! BATTLE STATIONS!" He shouted it numerous times. Men who were swabbing were now readying ropes and handing out blades and pistols. He took in a sharp breath through his nose. It's a good day for a fight.

In the organized chaos of the ship, he spotted Mcdonald with a big grin on his face. Johnny immediately knew what he was thinking. And he knew he wasn't thinking clearly. He called across the ship to him a s he mad his way towards him. "MR. McDONALD! Mr. Mcdonald. I need you to immobilize that ship, not destroyit. That;s a pirate vessel, meaning there chests are weighted. If the ship goes down, so does anything of value. I know it's difficult, but according to you, you're the best." he said all of this to him in a very serious tone. "So, are your ready to impress me, Mr. McDonald?" He asked, a smile spreading on his face.

"What in God's name is going on? First we hit something, and now you're running around like we've got to get somewhere in a hurry. And we're barely even a league outside the breakwater. Is everything okay?"

Val turned round to find a very flustered James.

"Master James we have a ship trailing us, coincidently the one Master Mau-LeFarge managed to hit leaving port. Seems he ain't too impressed. We are preparing for battle. I plan on showing the Duchess what happens when ye think ye can take on The Deadly Dame." she started to leave but as a second thought yelled over her shoulder "Ye was an officer before, ye know what to do. So get going!"

Thankfully Johnny and Marie had come up aboard, with Johnny easily taking command. She was grateful for the assistance and proceeded back to the helm in which she picked up the telescope to eye the Duchess. They weren't far off and it wouldn't take long before both ships would be parallel.The Duchess was quite well known, with rumours that the captain liked to keep his booty close at hand. For sure there was going to be some decent gold on the trip and Val was contemplating it to be used as incentive for the crew members once she told them all the truth of this voyage. Just before they reached the Duchess Val called out.

"RIGHTY MATES. WE BE BOARDING ANY SECOND. ONCE THOSE CANNONS GO OFF MAN THE PLANKS AN' GET YER ARSES OVER THAR!"

Now she stood back and watched, waiting for the first blast of cannons. She had a specially designed rope that hung near the railing in which she used to board ships from above. She leisurely walked over to it and gently laid her hand on it waiting for the perfect moment. Her free hand was down near her sword, itching to release some of the stress from the first day.

James remained standing where he was, his mouth open in surprise. If I was still an officer, let alone number one, I'd order the men to stand by while I tried to talk you out of this crazy shit, he thought. Was Captain Val insane? We just left port, so of course the Duchess will be following us. James scrambled up to the bridge and examined the oncoming ship with his spyglass. From he could see, she looked harmless. Her cannon ports were closed, there were just enough sailors on deck to man the sails, and aside from a few men shaking thier fists and making obscene guestures, he could see no signs of malicious intent. Besides, James knew of the Duchess. She was a schooner, designed to operate in shallow coastal waters, where her captain preyed on smugglers. She was no match for an ocean-going raider like The Deadly Dame. Surely her crew, if not her captain, knew that as well. One broadside of chainshot would be enough to shatter the Duchess' slender masts like toothpicks, while her own weapons would scarcely damage the Dame's, much less her hull.

However, it seemed Val was eager to pick a fight. Already, she was ordering her men to prepare a boarding party, and herself was preparing what appeared to be her own personal boarding line. She was going to attack wiether the Duchess wanted a fight or not.

"Captain," he finally said, forgetting his place as one of the crew. Captain Val had remembered he was an officer. "Niether the Duchess nor her captain is threatening us. I think she just wants to put to sea. Don't you think we ought to at least wait until the Duchess opens her own cannon ports? Then we'd at least know our attack was justified."

In the back of his mind, James knew his arguments were probably futile. There is no honor among thieves.

McDonald had gone up to get the monkey's ready on the deck as well, that grin never leaving his face. The rush of the battle, the smell of the ignited black powder, it was scientifically beautiful. He was ordering around some more of the lousy monkeys when he heard a voice roaring over the constant noise of the hustle. MR. McDONALD! Marco turned to see Johnny, and let his grin fall to a small smirk. He didn't want his quartermaster thinking he was mentally unstable now, and get kicked off the ship. That wouldn't be good for his ego, his pride or his wallet.

Mr. Mcdonald. I need you to immobilize that ship, not destroyit. That;s a pirate vessel, meaning there chests are weighted. If the ship goes down, so does anything of value. I know it's difficult, but according to you, you're the best. Marco gave a little sigh of annoyance. More regulations that were in place to keep him from having fun. He could understand the reasons for just wanting to immobalize the ship: All that gold could really help out with new supplies and status. That didn't change the fact that he couldn't destroy the damned thing. But he nodded and received the order, and smiled a little when he mentioned how it was according to him that he was the best. Most pirates that self proclaimed themselves usually sucked horribly, and were bluffing. Marco didn't understand the term bluff.

"So, are your ready to impress me, Mr. McDonald?" Marco matched Johnny's smile in every way. "Always, Mr. Flintlock. Always." He turned back to the one cannon and shoved every man off it to do it himself. Knowing exactly what he was doing, he got the monkeys he just shooed away to measure out enough gunpowder and get him a cannonball. He would only need one. He then prepped the cannon while the get ever closer to the Duchess, and Marco smiled. He aimed his cannon directly at the mast, calculating wind speeds, ship speeds, and a bunch of other factors as he went. He then heard Val roar about how as soon as the cannons go off, they would board. Marco gave a smirk, turned to the rest of the cannoneers and bellowed out his own command.

"Cannons! Aim for the sails! Your accuracy will be recorded by your fellow peers, and I will know if you are lying. You do not have to hit the mast, only try. And..." He waited until the exact right moment, and lowered his spark stick to light the cannon. It was quiet except for the growing amount of hissing, and then a massive BANG! from Marco's cannon started off a chain. True to his word, the shot went right through the largest mast, and it started to crumple under its own weight. He gave a little smirk, and said quietly enough for not many to hear.

"First shot on the Duchess? Better than expected."

Val could barely hear James over the commotion. In a matter of seconds they were aligned with the Duchess and the first cannon had been fired. It was an impressive shot and Val was pleased she landed such a catch with the Gunman. It sailed straight through the main mast disabling any chance of them fleeing. Val cheered along with the rest of her men. The smoke from the cannon was obscuring her view from the Duchess but she could here the yelling and general panic. She smiled maliciously. Gunpowder and salt mixed in the air, a smell that she had grown up with all her life. Now was the crucial time to board before the enemy gathered their wits and went for their swords.

"COME ON MEN! THE TIME IS NOW. BOARD!!!" She hollered over the racket. She unsheathed her sword and with a wordless cry she plunged her sword upwards and pulled sharply on her rope. She bent her knees in preparation for the jarring tug that she knew was coming. The next second she was launched from the deck and flung across the swirling mass of salty water. He landed heavily on the bridge deck but giving the helmsman no chance to prepare himself she had her sword at his throat. He was a roughened older bloke with a nasty scar down his neck. He scowled at her and managed to get a gob of spit at her feet. Her face turned deadly serious and she pressed the tip of her sword just that little bit harder, drawing blood. She saw him gulp. In a truly venomous tone she asked,

"Where is your cowardly Captain?"

If he did not answer correctly she felt no qualms against skewering him there and then. This is what she grew up doing. Through her warped sense of justice this was what was right.

"Go fuck yerself..." he grumbled in a gravelling voice that ended with a wet gurgle as Val thrust her sword through his throat. The body slumped to the floor and the man behind him dropped his sword, his face clear with fear. She turned towards him and asked again,

"Where is he?"

Trembling the guy simply pointed below. The Captains Quarters. She nodded and called over one of her men to take the man away. They had the ship overrun with her men. In the centre of the main deck her men surrounded the Duchesses crew. Taking her time she leislurely walked down the stairs. Delicately wiping the blood off of her sword with elaborate swipes. When she reached the final step she stood alert, waiting for Johnny to give her the report and accompany her in entering the Captains Quarters.

James smacked his face in exasperation. Why did I even bother? he thought. Captain Val paid as much attention to him as she would a seagull. It was just as well - he was the navigator, not the number one officer - who was God-knows-where, but certainly not on the bridge where she belonged in a time like this. Just as he thought, the first shot took out the Duchess' masts. Before her crew could respond to the unprovoked attack, the Dame's crew, lead by thier insane captain, were siezing the ship. Bloody pirates! Filthy, backstabbing, pilfering currs! James had been attacked by fellow pirates twice in his early days. After the second time, the attacks stopped, and other pirates gave him a wide berth. They didn't want to have thier ships towed into pirate ports while their corpses hung rotting from the rigging, as warnings to what happened to anyone who fucked with James Taylor. But Val's assault had been so quick, the Duchess never had a chance. What have I gotten myself into this time?

James remained aboard the Dame, reluctant to take part in a battle he saw as an unnessacary waste. But who was he to argue that either? Certainly not the quartermaster, whom he'd had yet to meet. All this over a collision from a drunken helmsman? Part of him wanted to gut the helmsman, like a fish, for even setting this whole debacle up. Yet surely the captain could have handled this differently - or not, considering the way she leapt onto the Duchess, whooping like an Amazon who'd just cleaned the floor with a Greek hero. All he could do was watch the scene playing out on the ship, an hope the captain and her men were satisfied with themselves.