Angelique Thuron's Story

Angelique was not expecting any of this.

The bullets, the yelling, the death, the blood- and in such amounts! They had been mentioned, yes, in the numerous stories she'd solicited from sailors young and old, but not like this. She could handle blood, but not in such large numbers.

She glanced frantically at her aunt, who looked as in her element as she was in the kitchen. Angelique blinked hard and grit her teeth. She might not have her gun, but she could at least patch up some of these people. She pulled some cloth and tied a tourniquet above Karena’s bullet wound, then checked her pulse. Stable and fine, as long as she didn't lose too much blood.

In this, she caught the eye of a dashing pirate, though she was too freaked to think much of it. Instead, after the man whispered to Ren, Angelique rushed over to help the Lieutenant with her wound. “Don't mind my aunt,” she told the older girl, more to keep herself from freaking out than the other. “She understands more about girls than boys when it comes to stuff and things.” She peered a bit closer to the wound. It was blessedly shallow. She'd seen worse when some prick broke a chair and her aunt threw him into the broken remnants. “Long as you compliment her food an’ don't ask for snails she'll think you're okay.”

The fancy pirate let out a yelp, and Angelique nearly jarred Ren’s arm. She whipped her head around, but it was only a hole in his coat. Shame, too. She’d have to offer to fix it if they stayed.

Jacqueline, on the other hand, was completely expecting this.

She couldn't have cared less about the captain’s rage. Either he would kill her when they got out to sea, or they'd maroon the pair somewhere. If she was lucky Sellars might challenge her to duel, and she'd have a chance. Jacqueline bore Ren no ill will over the situation, though it would have been nice to have an in on the ship.

“I doubt an old French cook is the greatest of your problems, captain,” she said, spitting the last word out like a bad chef’s souffle. She glanced over at her niece, who was assisting the Lieutenant. At least she was safer sitting down.

A bullet thudded into her bag as she moved to the side, and the sound of breaking glass nearly sent Jacqueline in a rage. “If that was my cloves…” she muttered, then turned to the captain and Ren. “If you're just going to kill me you may as well get some use of me beforehand,” she noted. After all, they at least hated the Navy as much as she did. That had to count for something.

Furious beyond any possible measure, Nathaniel stood, his sword pointed at the two would-be stowaways. So angry he could barely think he was brought out of the red mist by the shattering explosion of one of the deck guns. The canister shot he had ordered swept out over the dock like deadly hailstones, lead musket balls fired like a shotgun at close range. The guards who had been firing at the Acheron disappeared in a haze of red mist and gun smoke, the canister shot rattling off the walls of buildings and shattering glass. For a few moments all that could be heard was the terrible echo of the cannon and the pounding feet of the Acheron’s crew, then the few plaintive moans and screams reached Nate’s ears. They whetted his appetite for destruction a little. Seeing the effects of canister and grape always had a cooling effect on his anger, he didn’t know why. Maybe the destruction was just too complete to be happy about. Regardless, it got the job done.

The acrid smell of gunpowder filling his nostrils, Nate lowered his sword to his side and took in the scene before him. Two lay on the floor, one of the stowaways dealing with them, Carrington stood beside him, and the inn’s proprietress stood opposite, glowering in his general direction.

“If we don’t sail now we won’t make it out of the harbour sir.” Nate heard his new first lieutenant say from the deck. He glared at her as she struggled to her feet. Ren had her arm tourniqueted, and a blonde girl was examining the wound. Ten minutes on the ship and she was already seemingly out of action. A sneer crossed his face before he could control himself. He had been wounded many times before, and often a lot more seriously, but he never left his feet if he could help it. In addition to having being laid bleeding on the deck she was plying him by stating the obvious. Nate hated many things, but being treated as if he was blind really riled him up.

“Ye know I’d never countermand an order, captain, but there’s sails coming with the dawn. ‘Tis now or never. I can always shoot them later, or we can maroon them.” Nate’s scowl deepened. In addition to everything else that was going on, Carrington had decided today was the day he would be as difficult as humanly possible.

“Damn the man. If only he could do what he was told ALL the time,” Nathaniel thought as he shot another fire filled glare at his old friend. However, the expression on Carrington’s face touched a nerve. He was right. There was no time. They’d been through a lot together and it wasn’t often Carrington spoke against him without a reason. Over time Nate had learned to trust his friend’s judgement of people.

“Mr. Carrington, God damn you! Take those three,” Nate pointed to Jaqueline, Karena and Angelique, “down into the hold. I want them below the waterline and out of my sight!” Now Nate turned to Ren again. “And you Miss Thompson, you will be stood at your post or you will be dead. Decide now!” The anger had worked its way back to boiling point and he was in no mood to be lenient, especially after allowing Carrington his way. The fact that she was back on her feet after being shot didn't penetrate his fogged mind, his only concern now being for the coming action.

Turning around Nathaniel strode back to the quarterdeck, pulling out a long spyglass and training it on the distant horizon at the entrance to the harbour. Sure enough there were sails there. Sails that were in the pattern of the Royal Navy. Nate quickly scanned the masts. Two ships. Damn this would be close. He snapped the spyglass shut and leant over the rail, shouting down to the gundeck. “All hands make sail now! Loose Mains and gallants! Get up and reef the topsail!”

The sails dropped from the yards and masts like huge white clouds, and suddenly the body of the Acheron was dwarfed by the large expanse of clean, crisp sail. The sails billowed in the wind, filled, and the ship began to move away from the dock and out towards the approaching Royal Navy. The breeze whipped across the deck, which was lit by the dawn sun to the left and the fires behind. The air suddenly fresher Nate felt his mind totally clear, his heart thumping in his hears as he took the wheel and turned the Acheron straight at the Navy ships. He could now see that they were frigates, nothing he hadn’t gone up against before, but it would be a hard fight if the plan he was formulating in his head didn’t go well.

Picking up speed the Acheron raced towards the Navy ships, which were now well hull-up. Nate could see them turning broadside on to fire at the Acheron as she raced towards them. The water split either side of the Acheron’s hull, and she was now virtually flying through the water, the early morning wind filling her sails. Nate almost called out in joy, but held himself back, instead calling down to the gundeck again.

“Gun captains, double shot the guns! Ram home the powder hard!” He smiled slightly. The plan was crazy, but it might just work. “Take the wheel,” Nate motioned to a crewman. “Take us right between them, no hesitations.” Clapping the man on the back Nate slid down the stairs to the gundeck and strode forwards to the fos’cle. He clambered up and leant over the front of the ship. Now the Acheron was close enough for him to make out details on the Navy ships through his spyglass. He recognized the Illustrious and the Endeavour. He smiled to himself again. Both captained by fools. He was surprised the Navy had allowed Captain Fotheringay of the Illustrious to sail again after he ran his last ship aground in the Bay of Biscay.

A white puff of smoke billowed out from the Endeavour, and a cannon ball skipped across the waves in front of the Acheron. “Short,” Nate thought to himself. “But the guns will warm soon.” He turned back towards the main body of his ship.

“Now’s the time boys! Hold fast and stay true. We’ll show these Navy dogs that they picked the wrong day to fight the Acheron!” Nate punched his sword up into the air as his crewmen roared in response. He saw that spare match was already burning in the sand tubs. His gunners were working well, even with the new crewmen. He was surprised by how easily they had slid into place. He supposed he had his new first lieutenant to thank for that.

“Those bastards over there are afraid! They fear the god-forsaken devils you are! They are over there right now wetting their breeches at the sight of us bearing down on them. Hold fast! And today you will have victory!” The crew roared again, Nate responding in kind. “Acheron! Acheron! Acheron!”

Now his blood was on fire. Leaving his crew roaring the name of the ship over and over, Nate strode forwards and climbed onto the rail, holding onto one of the ropes attached to the bowsprit. He hung out over the front of the ship and glared at the Illustrious and the Endeavour, the Acheron racing towards them and the air buffeting his face.

Suddenly the sides of the two ships ahead disappeared in a great cloud of smoke. “Down! All hands down!” Nate yelled as he leapt from the bowsprit and ducked behind the rail. The crew followed suit as within seconds a peal of thunder reached them, then cannon balls began striking the Acheron. Splinters flew and round holes were torn in the sails. A couple of guns were dismounted, their crews shrieking as the metal reared up into the air, to come crashing back down on the deck. Peering over the rail, part of which no longer existed thanks to a close shot, Nate saw most of the broadsides fired by the two ships fall short or wide. “They’re afraid of hitting the town,” he thought, and smiled again.

The thunder roared again and the Acheron shuddered as she was hit. Nate climbed back onto the bowsprit and stared at the ships that were coming closer fast. The Acheron was near enough for him to make out details through gaps in the smoke even without his telescope. He could see the gunners frantically reloading, the buckets of muskets being lifted to the tops, and the two other captains, watching him nervously through their telescopes. Nate could also see the gap through which the Acheron must go. The other captains were being sloppy, the gap was widening as they focused on firing as fast as possible. The Acheron would slide right though.

Nate did whoop for joy this time, crying out as he was enveloped by gun smoke and flying metal, daring fate and the Navy to try and kill him. “Hold fast boys!” He yelled backwards. “Hold fast!”

They were seconds away now, the navy ships frantically reloading and firing, tearing great splinters from the hull of the Acheron. The gun crews still crouched by their guns, covering their heads from the shards of wood, some grinning in mad hysteria. In places the gun ports had been ripped away, letting the crew look out onto the waves beside them. The men in the tops and the fighting platforms had begun firing, the sharp crack of the muskets and rifles a stark contrast to the deep thunder of the cannons. Here and there a man fell backwards as he was struck by a musket ball, a couple tumbling down from the heights to land in the water as the Acheron raced forwards.

Nate could see panic in the faces of the crew of the Navy ships now. They knew what he planned to do, and it was too late. The nose of the Acheron pushed between the Illustrious and the Endeavour. Nate turned back to the ship and screamed at the top of his lungs, “now! Fire as she bears!”

There was silence for a moment as the navy guns could no longer fire at the Acheron, but it was quickly pierced by the rolling thunder of the Acheron’s own. Keen for revenge the gun crews yelled as they worked, the gun captains yanking on the lanyards in sequence, the guns leaping back against their traces. The fire rippled down the sides of the Acheron as she slid between her opponents. This raking fire was usually totally devastating, the cannonballs travelling the full length of the enemy ships, and this time it was no different.

Great chunks of wood flew from the navy ships, guns thrown from their placings, crewmen eviscerated as pounds of metal crashed into them. The fos'cle of the Illustrious and the poopdeck of the Endeavour were shredded. The length of the Acheron was wreathed in smoke and flame, her gun crews reloading as fast as possible to fire again before they were quickly past their target. The sails and some of the rigging snagged on falling pieces of the Navy’s own, but were dragged clear by the motion of the ship. Nate cackled with joy and ran back along the length of the ship to the poopdeck, watching the destruction as his ship moved past the Navy.

The three ships sat in a sudden silence, all covered in smoke, and on the Endeavour, flames. Obviously a cannonball had struck her galley. It was sloppy to leave the galley lit during a fight, but then, both the Navy captains had been sloppy. Moans and plaintive screams carried across the water, and the few wounded on the Acheron were being carried belowdecks during the lull.

“Lieutenant Thompson! Boarding hooks and weapons!” He called to Ren. The crew gave a roar and surged to the weapons lockers without another word, passing out tomahawks, cutlasses and pistols.

“Mr. Dogood, Mr. Carrington! Take up some of those grenades, prepare yourselves for boarding the Illustrious.” Nate was smiling, a crazed, bloodied smile. A splinter had whipped past his cheek, opening it to the bone, and blood was pouring down his face. But he didn’t care. The Acheron was as good as she could be, and now his men were going to take their revenge on the Navy who had humiliated them. "Bring her around for boarding!" Nate called to the crewman on the wheel.

It had been years since Ren had felt the tension that came with combat, the chaos palpable as musket fire filled the air. rounds whizzed by like angry hornets, the volley accompanied by a symphony of sharp cracks that rhythmically filled the air. Even weak on her knees as she was, Ren couldn't resist a smile at the familiarity of it all. The grin widened as she watched the cook square off with the captain, unsure of why but she felt a measure of pride in another woman pressing her own will against the Captain's. Perhaps it was admiration? Or perhaps she was only anxious for more stew. She prayed for the latter, considering she had held a gun to her just moments before.

The fact that the young blonde one began to treat her injury without provocation heaped onto her shame, though Ren would be lying if she didn't enjoy the gentle touch the young woman possessed. She crouched down to aid in her caregivers work, unable to look the girl in the eyes as she did so. She swore she'd make it up to the both of them if the Captain didn't decide to have the lot of them shot.

“Don't mind my aunt, she understands more about girls than boys when it comes to stuff and things.”

The words caught Ren's attention, a welcome distraction from the stand-off with Nate.

“Long as you compliment her food an’ don't ask for snails she'll think you're okay.”

"I've had your aunt's cooking... the compliments will come naturally I assure you," Ren replied, trying her best to smile gently back at the niece. "Your aunt's skill is apparent in the kitchen, but we never did recruit a doctor. Do your best to treat any wounded and prove your worth if you want sanctuary. Do that, and I'll do my damndest to keep you safe, I swear it," Ren whispered, not wanting the Captain to hear her conspiring with the stowaways. Her words might not have been entirely audible to Angelique, but Ren dared not say them any louder, using the chaos above their heads to mask her voice.

She hadn't so much as taken a breath afterwards before she felt Carrington crouch down behind her, whispering to her now as well.

"Miss Thompson, we should, perhaps, raise the plank and be off, but me shoutin' the order gets you not an inch with the boys."

The rage was quick to spread on Ren's face, but with it came an idea as she saw another crewman scurrying about nearby. A wicked grin spread on her face instead as Ren stood, the wound as treated now as it could be without proper supplied. She'd need to see the girl after the battle for anti-septic, but she'd not bleed out by then. Ren nodded at Angelique and motioned for her to tend to the unconscious girl they'd brought aboard before swiveling on her heels to glare at Carrington.

"Mr. Carrington!" She shouted, an angry smile still widening on her face as she spoke, "That is a novel suggestion!" She then pointed at the crewman, who stopped in his tracks in surprise, before continuing.

"Crewman, Mr. Carrington has volunteered you to help him raise the gangway so that we might shove off!" Ren shouted, then glared back at Carrington, "Thank you for your initiative, Navigator Carrington. I look favorably on officers with the gumption to volunteer for the grunt work."

The crewman glared at Ren, and again at Mr. Carrington for his role in the dangerous task of retrieving the gangway amidst the musket fire. Ren glared at the man as well, pistol still drawn and easily aimed if the man openly defied her order.

"Unless, Mr. Carrington, you presumed to order me to carry out your own whims?" She barked, wanting to make this painfully apparent that this was her way of rectifying the earlier situation with the gangway, the look on her face suggesting her lack of humor about the matter. The men not listening to her was one thing, but having an officer below her rank giving her orders was a death sentence if it took root now. This way, the men would see said officer following her own words, and some might come to heel as a result. The sooner she established herself with the crew, the sooner she could stop cracking the whip and settle into the crew proper. If she were a man, she might not have had to so much as raise her voice to accomplish the same, but she could tell by the looks of all aboard that they didn't think she belonged. She had to stand her ground and prove she did.

After the gangway was raised, the Captain resumed issuing his orders, instructing Mr. Carrington to take the women below deck to keep them from being underfoot, as well as demanding Ren stick to her post or die. Ren saluted, still grinning as she gave a hearty, "Aye sir, one measly shot wouldn't take an officer of the Acheron to the depths!"

She did make it a point to step forward to Jacqueline as soon as the Captain left for the quarterdeck, placing her flintlock firmly into the woman's hands.

"A good deterrent should a sailor be faced with temptation. I'll want this back, but I won't miss a bullet. Stay safe, mam," She said gently, winking at Angelique before turning and drawing her sabre from it's scabbard.

"GET OFF YOUR ASSES BOYS! DAVY JONES IS HUNGRY AND ITS THEM OR US!" She whooped as she started pacing the decks, making sure all hands had a purpose and that any slack was absent the ship. She could see the Acheron turning to charge the two navy ships, a moment of fear shooting up Ren's spine.

'Black Nate is as mad as the devil, he is,' She thought, but a quick shake of the head and she was back in the moment.

"WHAT CREW ARE WE?!" She cried, carrying on the Captain's chant from before to keep the crew's spirits high. God knows they'd need it sailing headlong into the enemy.

"ACHERON!"

"WHO DOES THE NAVY FEAR?!"

"ACHERON!"

"WHOSE SAILING OUT ONTO THAT OPEN BLUE PARADISE?!"

"ACHERON!"

"PUT THE FEAR OF GOD INTO THOSE PITIFUL BASTARDS!" She shouted, a roar from the crew as her reply as everyone worked in unison. Truly she'd missed being on a ship. Even as the call to hit the deck rang out from fos’cle to aft and Ren put her nose to wood and covered her head, she couldn't imagine a more fitting place for herself in all the world. When the thunder quieted, Ren got to her knees and looked about to assess the damage. She couldn't find much that the crew wasn't already tending to. The Navy was getting sloppy, it seemed.

Another volley hit the ship, and one of the roundshot bounced off the deck just five feet from where Ren lay, splinters piercing her coat and cutting up her hands. She immediately popped back up, whooping and waving her sword. "THEY'VE LOST THEIR BIFOCALS, BOYS! SHOW 'EM WHAT KIND OF AIM A TRUE SON OF THE SEA HAS!" She called out, a volley of the Acheron's own thundering out and slamming into the enemy ships.

The volleys were near constant up until Nathaniel's plan came to fruition, wedging the Acheron between the two navy ships and letting the broadsides have their way with the both of them at once. Between the cannons and the musket fire, the fight had been smacked out of the Navy's collective mouths. The smoke cleared and the only sound Ren could hear was the plaintive wailing of the enemy, and a few shots from the tops silencing their cries.

“Lieutenant Thompson! Boarding hooks and weapons!”

Ren's head swiveled about as the order came through, a grin spreading on her face as the bloodlust began to take hold. Another fine opportunity to earn respect and kill those that had cast her out of their fold.

"YOU HEARD THE CAPTAIN! ARM UP AND GIVE 'EM HELL!" Ren shouted, joining the men at the weapons locker and holstering all the pistols her uniform could hold. Another crewman came from below deck, carrying all the boarding hooks he could manage, and distributed them among the eager crew, one of which was Ren herself. The order came for the ship to turn about for boarding, and the men roared in anticipation.

Ren joined the line of men portside, a wicked grin on her face as she began swinging her hook about, waiting for the Illustrious to come into range. As soon as she could see the fire from the enemy musket barrels, she threw her hook and yanked hard when it hit the ship's deck, catching it on the railing. She began to shout, "Heave! Ho!" to get the men pulling in unison. Any of the linemen that fell to musket fire was quickly replaced and the phrase devolved into a cackle as the two ships were practically touching.

"SHIP'S OURS, BOYS! VACATE THE STOWAWAYS!" She cried, drawing her sabre as she leaped forward, jumping off of the Acheron's own railing and landed in a roll on the enemy's deck, jabbing her sabre straight forward into the sternum of a navy sailor as soon as she rolled onto her feet. She grabbed the man by the coat and yanked him around to absorb a round from a flintlock by his mate, and kicked her shield off of her blade before raising her own firearm and pulling the trigger.

Dear God in heaven, she felt so alive.

As soon as the navigator left, Jacqueline cursed his name.

“Auntie what is wrong with you?” Angelique rushed over to take the still dizzy Karena from her aunt. “I had him in my palm!”

“Angelique, the man is merely baiting you so you'll sleep with him,” Jacqueline said, working her way around the cell.

“I would never sleep with a man I barely knew,” Angelique frowned, helping Karena to one of the bunks. “And besides, I was flirting with him to get him on our side.”

“Your side, mon ange,” the older woman replied in her search. “The captain despises me, and as much as his lieutenant likes me, that man is far more dangerous than she.” Finding nothing of interest, she sat on the opposite bunk. “After all, cooks are expendable. A good surgeon is not.”

“I barely know anything about doctoring, though,” Angelique frowned.

“You learn fast, and you know more than you realize.” Jacqueline gave a start before pulling her pack into her lap. Her frying pan’s handle still stuck out of the top, and the scent of fresh clove immediately filled the room. She scowled. “Mon diu, do they have any idea how expensive clove is?”

“Auntie, you can just get more at the next port. It'll be okay,” the younger Thuron told her, then focused on keeping Karena conscious. It would do the girl no good to pass out from the blood loss, and it would be easier to move her if she was awake. “I need you to stay with me, okay? Gotta keep your eyes open,” she told the assassin.

Jacqueline put aside her frustration with the clove a second time and took the pan out of her bag. Then, she switched into her breeches.

“Can't you pout just as well in a skirt?” Angelique said. “We're going to be stuck here until they decide what to do with us.”

“Angelique, you've not been on a ship since you were little, and you've never been on a pirate ship,” Jacqueline replied, relacing her boots. “If you're locked in a cell, you either try to bust through the door, or you rush the guard when they come bring you food. Besides, I can fight far better in this.” Jacqueline stood up and brandished her frying pan, first in her right, then in her left.

“Aren't you right handed, Auntie?”

“I've always felt better with this pan in my left,” Thuron noted, giving a few experimental swings with the pan. She pulled her coat out of her bag and donned that as well. Now, she was ready to go on the offensive.

Now, if only she could pick locks.

Karena laid in silence as the two women lightly quarreled with each other after listening to Angelique’s soothing voice to stay awake. They reminded her of when her family was alive. Back when Karena still knew how to smile. The girl and her sister would often argue over similar things. Karena fancied more of the clothes her father wore and adapted his like for things men were more known for than women. Her sister, Hilde, took after their mother and was more refined and ladylike. Hilde would often chastise Karena for not being the same and would often give tales about the kind of lifestyle there was for girls that wanted to be like men. They were often barbaric and over exaggerated tales but even so, their father loved hearing them. They were likely tales that Hilde had heard from her friends since there was no way of the girl knowing them herself when her only places she went to were the school for ladies and out on the town on occasion.

Hearing Jacqueline and Angelique made Karena suddenly long for her old life. Back before her parents died and her sister’s disappearance. When Karena heard of Jacqueline preparing to either break out of the cell or fight the young girl snapped back into reality. She slowly sat up and swung her legs back to the floor. It hurt like hell to move any part of her upper body, especially, sitting up.

Karena took a deep breath, willing the pain to the back of her mind to focus on more important task. Then her eyes opened to look at the door handle.

“Waiting to rush them would be too risky if the captain comes, escorted by his men. It’d be suicide.” Karena stood up and walked over to the door before kneeling down to further inspect the keyhole. “It’s not a cell door.” The girl looked at Jacqueline’s weapon. “You could force the door open with the frying pan if you desired so. With all the fighting going on I don’t think anyone would hear it unless there were guards stationed at the door.” Karena pulled out her lockpicking kit. She always carried it on her just in case. It was pretty small so even if she was searched the was always a possibility it’d be overlooked since it was in her bosom.

The true challenge was picking the lock with a single hand and on a swaying boat. At least the cannon fire had ceased but there was still the swaying. Karena found herself lucky the door to this room held a simpler lock than the ones she was used to breaking into. She spoke while starting to work.

“This will take a little while to do with one hand but if you can be patient then we’ll be through the door in a few minutes.” The girl dropped her pins several times before grunting in frustration. She moved her arm from the sling it was placed in and let out a short but sharp cry. The sudden pain was surprising and had caught her off guard despite expecting it. She held up a hand letting the others know to keep their distance and that she was fine.

-----------------

After working for a little while Karena was surprised at how exhausting the work was. Beads of sweat formed on her head and her breaths were getting shorter. Working through pain like this wasn’t something she had to do before. She would admire anyone that could. Then the bolt turned.

“Got it!” Karena whispered. She gathered her kit back together and put it back in its original place. “Now what’s your plan?” Karena asked the older woman as the girl sat back on the bunk and carefully placed her arm back into the sling. The pain slowly dulling out as Karena got used to it. There wasn’t any popping or cracking when she moved her arm early so the assassin came to the conclusion that nothing was broken or shattered. She was very lucky but now her mind was set on what would happen next. That would test how great her luck really was.

Jacqueline looked on appreciatively as Karena picked the lock. The girl had quite the pair of hands, to be able to do that with one bad arm. Jacqueline had never been quite deft enough to fiddle with such things. She'd almost told the girl to stop when she cried out in pain, but Karena had insisted on continuing. When the hunter finished, she sat back with Angelique.

“Now what's your plan?” the girl asked her.

Jacqueline opened the door. “First, I'll have- Merde!” she hissed. Two men, smack in front of the door. She gripped the handle of her pan tight. She could hold them off long enough to get the girls away, but-

"If you'd be so kind as to take these to Mr. Carrington's cabin on your way to the Captain's, I would be appreciative."

Jacqueline raised an eyebrow as the grizzled man took a familiar looking sack from Mr. Franklin. She could see the butt of her saber sticking out just barely of the sack. She scowled, though was thankful the other man had been sent away. She gripped the handle of the pan tighter and stayed in the doorway.

The man smiling caught her completely off guard. “Now ladies, this puts me in a quandary. Y'see, the Captain wants ye off the ship, and ne'er said a thing about killin' ye. And I'm not much one fer killin' womenfolk. Leaves a darkness upon the soul that's hard to be rid of. So, I'll letcha go by without action, since the Captain doesn't want ya aboard regardless. But if it's a fight yer lookin' fer, ye might kill me, but one of ye will die with me." That smile looked all too familiar to Jacqueline, one that she'd been given many times long ago. Her heart leapt for a split second before she pulled herself back into reality. Though the smile was the same, she knew this man not.

Jacqueline stared at the lone pirate before stepping out of the doorway. “As long as you keep your word, I've no notion to start a fight. Angelique!” she called back behind her. The blonde started behind her, still focused on Karena.

“What?"

“We're taking our leave of this cabin.” Jacqueline never turned her head back, instead keeping her eyes planted firmly on the scarred cyclops in front of her.
“Where- oh. Oh!” Angelique helped Karena up off the bunk and out the door. “Are we-”

“Go. You know what to do.” Jacqueline waved her hand in the opposite direction of, apparently, Carrington’s cabin. Angelique nodded hard and hastily helped Karena away from the pair in standoff.
Jacqueline didn't watch them leave. She stood there for a moment after she could no longer hear their footsteps, then spoke quietly to Mr. Franklin.

“I'm sure a man of your age has had plenty of cause to kill women for lesser reasons. I've no notion as to why you've decided to leave us be.” She took a deep breath. “Should I see the sun rise-” She heard shouts ring from above them and cursed. Still a bit shaken, she finally left the hallway and made for the deck.

-
Angelique had no idea what to do. Had she been on her own, she’d have taken the time to learn the lay of the land- well, ship, scope out any easy hiding spots, size up the liquor, all of that. She wasn't used to sneaking about with someone else, though the girl was just as silent as Angelique.

“We're going to see if we can't find a surgeon’s chest,” Angelique murmured to Karena. “I don't have much of anything on me, and if I have to start tearing up my dress for dressing auntie might try to put me in breeches.” The blonde shuddered at that, then gave a quick glance around.
Where were they?

-
Jacqueline bounded up topside as fast as she could. She prayed to whatever was listening that Angelique hadn't gone on deck as she went.

She came on deck to the sight of the Endeavor near explosive as it sank, sucking in water as if there was no tomorrow. It seemed like the two ships couldn't get away fast enough; if they couldn't get moving fast enough, there wouldn't be a tomorrow. The crew on both ships raced to get moving. The Endeavor cracked and groaned and popped as it sank, the few men left on her doomed to sail with Davy Jones. There was no time left for them.

Her niece nowhere in sight, Jacqueline turned to go back and find her inside the ship when a gunshot rang from the deck of the ship the pirates had boarded: the Illustrious. She watched as someone fell overboard, coat billowing as they fell. Jacqueline couldn't quite see who it was by the light of the moon and the blaze of the Endeavor, but he looked to be someone of importance, as the new crew of the Illustrious scrambled to fish him out.

“Oi! Don't just stand there, mate! Captain’ll shoot you ‘imself if ‘e sees you slakin’ off,” a burly, smoky man clapped Jacqueline on the shoulder, giving her a start. Jacqueline looked at the man as though he were crazy, then realized what was going on around her. With her current attire she looked far more like the pirates scurrying around the deck than she had earlier. She tool a page out of Angelique’s book, nodded back at the man and began to assist the crew of the Acheron in sailing them away from the Endeavor. After all, she reminded herself, she was no good to Angelique dead, and if the Endeavor blew with them as close as they were, there was no chance in hell for them.

She could taste the powder still in the air, though the wind felt as though it would shift directions any second. “Å quelque chose malheur est bon,” she murmured to herself, taking glances up at the clouds that were floating lazily by. Jacqueline wouldn't rest well until she saw the color of sunrise.

The Illustrious had barely been underway by the time the first wrinkle decided to rear its ugly head. No sooner had Ren called for the crew to set sail before someone began shouting about their being a man overboard. Ren snarled as she looked starboard, esitating in thought for only a moment before she looked to her interim first mate, Jenkins, and demanded he fetch her a long rope and tie one end to the railing on the starboard. He saluted and rushed off, the task not taking but a moment as the stuff was everywhere, the crew gathering it for transfer back to the Acheron.

"Belay those sails! I was given a full crew and damn the man that makes me return with a head less!" She called to the tops, accepting the rope Jenkins returned with, handing him her jacket and pistols in return before tying a knot around her waist.

"Get some strong arms, Lieutenant, I'll be going fishing," she said sarcastically, both smiling as Ren turned and set into a hard run at starboard. She dove headfirst into the waves below, using her "hands to break the surface and spare her head the trauma. Growing up in a port town, the son of a sailor, Ren was a strong swimmer and it was probably very fortunate to whatever crewman had decided to lose their sea legs. She could spy a strange lump clinging to driftwood, looking to be unconscious but still holding a grip to the planks of wood liberated from the Endeavor. She could also see the glasses and familiar coat once she swam closer, and upon realizing just who the overboard crewman was, Ren cursed under her breath.

"Some Navigator you are, Mr. Carrington... two ships to choose from and you get yourself lost in the ocean..." Ren mutterd, the annoyance plain in her voice as she untied the rope around her person and began securing it to Mr. Carrington. She made sure the knots were tight, to ensure his hauling up the side of the ship would be both secure, and leave him with rope burns the likes he'd never seen before. When she was satisfied, she swam back towards the ship, keeping a hand to the rope.

"HAUL LIKE YOU MEAN IT BOYS! CARRINGTON SAID HE'S DONE WITH HIS SWIM!" Ren shouted, her command met with laughter as she felt the line grow taut, and Carrington's limp form unceremoniously dragged through the waters and to the broadside of the ship. Ren climbed up the rigging alongside Carrington as he was brought up to make sure he didn't get snagged on anything, crawling back over the railing as his body hit the deck.

"Alright, I did the hard part. Who knows how to give mouth to mouth?" Ren asked, and was delighted when one of the crew raised their hands to volunteer. Granted, he looked to have scurvy, but Mr. Carrington would live to annoy the shit out of her another day.

"When the sea gets sucked back out of him, see Mr. Carrington is taken below deck to recover. God forbid he loses his way again and goes overboard," Ren said, though stopped as she noticed the broken compass hanging about his neck.

'Lucky bastard,' She thought, but looking back at the man preparing to revive him she could help but grin and ponder the nature of his luck.

"Set sail! Course is set so let's haul our asses before the Endeavor takes us with her!" Ren called, ripping the sleeve off of the right arm of her shirt, balling it up as she moved Carrington's coat out of the way. She shoved the fabric down onto the wound and pressed firmly before wrapping the tourniquet around the wound to hold it in place. Should keep him from bleeding out until the Acheron was reached.

Their course was set and the wind was with them, so reaching their target would only take a matter of minutes once the Acheron dropped anchor to allow for boarding. In the meantime, Ren decided to take a little time for herself and a reward for the crew thus far.

"Loot the bodies and chum the waters! I want everything presentable for the Captain once we rendezvous. Not a piece in your pockets till the quartermaster gets it counted, or I'll see to it you're on the deck of the Endeavor when it blows. Keep 'em honest, Jenkins!" Ren called, the men roaring in approval as they finally got the all clear to start their looting. Ren smiled and let them have at it, taking it upon herself to venture below deck. It didn't take her long before she found the officer's cabins, and a swift kick to the doors saw them open easily enough. She grabbed a convenient burlap sack and started sizing the room up, taking the lieutenants uniform off of its stand and greedily shoving it inside her sack, as well as a violin safely tucked within its case. A few personal affects to go into her own quarters once she got settled well enough. The next room called for a new sack, this one belonging to the ship's surgeon. all the supplies she could carry she appropriated into the bag and hoisted them both over her shoulder. After the battle they'd just had, and the bullets that had hit their mark, she felt it was prudent to go ahead and acquire means beyond tourniquets for their treatment. Mending the Captain's arm might even see Angelique remain aboard.

It was the least she could do for the Inn keeper, considering who she was.

A moment of nostalgia swept the young woman's mind as she reached inside her jacket and dug a piece of old parchment from pocket in the lining, flicking her wrist to undo its folds. A bounty poster for the woman known as 'The Serpent's Teeth', the very same poster she'd taken down as a child and hid in her room, to look at as she practiced her knots, to fence with her butler and eventually her father, the poster she'd held onto when she needed to remind herself of why she left home in the first place.

The poster that proved a woman could sail if she damn well pleased.

Ren folded the parchment back up and hauled her sacks back to the main deck, happy to see the Illustrious pulling up beside of the Acheron.

"Raise sail and drop anchor! Prepare the gangway once the Captain is ready to board! You lot! Start to the hold and see to it any rations or supplies are ready for hauling back to the Acheron. Bring Carrington back up and see to it he gets treatment for his wound!" Ren called, setting her sacks down and saluting the Acheron.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain!"

Jacqueline ceased her assistance with the crew after Nate had assessed her. Her hands ached from the ropes, and she could feel a soreness spreading from her shoulders up her neck and down her back. She’d need to get that stretched out before she slept (if she slept that night.) Sighing, she smoothed down some stray grayish blonde hairs as she stood on deck. She moved over to the railing and took glances at the officers and sailors still on deck. How long had it been? Eleven or so years? It- no, that had to be about right. Angelique was grown, after all, and hadn't she been so small on the Petit Bleu that she wouldn't speak? No, she was old enough to speak then, she just wouldn't, not even to her father-

The Endeavor exploded in a flash and a thunderous clap. Jacqueline whipped around to face the remnants’ final blaze of glory. The ship was bigger, but with the ringing in her ears Jacqueline swore she saw teal blue French script and a small but lovely figurehead in the explosion, and something else that she hoped she could write off as sleep deprivation.

She saw a face that had plagued her nightmares for a decade.

Jacqueline blinked hard, then shoved away from the railing as though the metal had burned her. She breathed in the scent of burning wood and imagined her kitchen. In, out, in… that always helped. Yet, she couldn't shake off the darkening feeling in her gut: that face had looked awfully familiar, as though she had seen it recently.

“Lots of Englishmen look the same,” she muttered, scowling at the sky. Still dark. Still cloudy. Still depressingly the same English sky she'd been under for years. Jacqueline missed La Rochelle, though a part of her longed for the place she grew up in. Hell, she missed France in general. Angelique had never known her father's and aunt's homeland; perhaps, once this was over, she would take her niece to her homeland.

Wait.

Where was Angelique?
---

Angelique had lost Karena not long in, and had subsequently gotten lost afterwards. She knew the outsides of ships well, and she could find her way through any building (she liked to think) but this ship was plaguing her more than the outbreak of scurvy had a few years ago during a festival. Its innards made no sense to her. She finally gave up trying to find anything of note when she felt the boom of the Endeavor. Angelique popped her head above deck and found herself near the larboard gangway. She could easily see her aunt glance about the approaching Illustrious, as well as Nathaniel and Karena.

‘Oops,’ she thought. Yet, her aunt seemed not to be bothered by her absence; maybe her aunt actually thought she could handle herself? For once?

Nah, she probably just forget where she was.

Angelique lept out onto the the deck and bounded gracefully to her aunt, only losing a bit of momentum trying to jump up on to the deck by the mainmast.

“Auntie, your hands look awful!” the girl exclaimed, grabbing Jacqueline’s hands and inspecting them. “What on earth were you doing?”

“Mon ange, don't startle me so!” Jacqueline exclaimed, shuddering at the shock. “I was doing what needed done, nothing more.”

“Your hands look like you lost a fight with five cats and a round of rope,” Angelique remarked, feeling all around her aunt's hands and frowning. “I've got some ointment to put on your rope burns that should clear them up by tomorrow but my bandages are running low.”

“I’ll live,” Jacqueline looked over at the Illustrious, particularly at the grinning face of the lieutenant. Not as familiar as the Captain’s, but she'd definitely seen that nose and those eyes before. So many familiar unfamiliar faces today!

“Not if it gets infected you won't,” Angelique fussed, reaching into her bag to get a stopped bottle of a greenish paste. “You always say that our hands are our most important part of our bodies.”

“Aside from the head,” Jacqueline replied, squinting to see the other members of the Illustrious’s returning crew. She looked at Carrington, still sopping wet, and felt a chill come over her. She didn't trust that man as far as she could throw him.

“Depends on which head,” Angelique giggled, pulling out her last few bandages and following her aunt's gaze.

Jacqueline fixed her with a stern look as Angelique’s giggles turned into full laughter. The older Thuron rolled her eyes and prayed that her niece would be able to laugh still after a few weeks at sea.

After the ships settled parallel to the other, the crew of the Acheron made quick work of lashing the two ships together and throwing down the boarding plank. Sellars strode confidently onto the deck of the slowly sinking ship, smirk on his face as he took one self indulgent glance at the driftwood that once encompassed the Endeavor. Gloating to himself over the kill, Ren imagined, but she'd be lying if she wasn't feeling the slightest bit giddy after coming out of that battle. She had a fixed grip on the feeling, lest she see flashes of the young men that she'd just cut down.

"Let's get going then Lieutenant Thompson. I want us away in an hour," The captain ordered, one which Ren saluted before she looked to the deck of the Acheron. She need not bother with the crew of the Illustrious as they'd begun preparations before the anchor was dropped.

"Oi! If you don't want to starve in a few weeks, best get your asses in gear! Captain wants this cargo loaded up in the hour! Ship won't loot itself!" Ren shouted, still smiling as she tried to direct the stampede of crew coming over the boarding plank to where the holes in the looting were. They hadn't so much as hit the deck before the first crates of rations began making their way onto the deck of their new ship.

It seemed as if this was the type of work most of the crew had been waiting to do, and Ren hadn't needed to actually issue any orders after giving the all clear for any available hands to come aboard. She watched regardless, making sure no one was slacking off or needed to have her point them to where they were needed, but she couldn't stop her thoughts from wandering back to the Dublin, where she'd last served as proper navy. The ship and its crew were all new, and the sight of the crew running about like baby chicks who'd lost their mother during drills had become some of her fondest memories. She was incredulous at the time, of course, having to teach someone who'd been to the academy, the same Ren had studied and trained all her life to enter, what a bowline knot was, and lord in heaven if she saw one more soldier drop their loader from their musket...

Her thoughts drifted of their own accord now, back a few hours to the chaos of the Illustrious. The young man shivering in his boots as pirates swarmed the decks. A light breeze could have knocked him over, but he faltered only a moment before raising his musket, eye to the irons, and desperately searched for a target. He hadn't jumped when Ren had put a hand to his shoulder... perhaps he thought her rough hands were that of an ally? Perhaps he'd accepted the state of things and welcomed his fate. The shivering stopped and he let out a breath, calming himself as he started to squeeze the trigger, but Ren's sword slid into the back of his neck before he ever managed to fire. She wondered now if he'd have known how to tie a bowline knot if asked. If he'd run from home to join the Royal Navy.

"Lieutenant, it's time to go."

The order snapped Ren out of her daydream, and it was the most grateful she'd been since being handed that bowl of stew at the inn.

"Pack it up! Time to disembark!" Ren called, watching as another stampede headed for the boarding plank. The deck of the Illustrious had been picked clean, though Ren spied a few stragglers that were apparently hard of hearing. Thought they could pocket a little for themselves since the Captain's back was turned. Ren pulled out her pistol and fired a shot between the two, putting both on their asses from the shock of it.

"Now that your attention's been had, we're disembarking. Dawdle any longer and the planks'll be raised without you," Ren called, having to hold back a chuckle as the men tripped over themselves to run back to the Acheron. She headed back herself, standing on the boarding plank and turning to make one last sweep to ensure all hands were accounted for, and once she was satisfied made her way to her new home, sacks still slung over her shoulder.

"Raise the planks and tie down the new provisions! Lets make the ship handsome after such a display!" Ren called, the crew roaring as they got to work preparing to sail, readjusting the netting in the hold to secure the new rations, a line forming as men passed crates and barrels of powder and round-shot to the magazine.

Nodding in satisfaction, Ren spotted the familiar faces of the Thurons on deck and couldn't hide her grin. She wondered which had been the one to pick the lock, or if Jacqueline had simply shouldered through the door. Perhaps a crewman had a bruise in the suspicious shape of a frying pan now?

She made her way over, not bothering to hide her good spirits as she gave a wave with her free hand.

"Got bored of the Hold, eh?" Ren joked, the sight of one of the new crew tripping over themselves catching her eye. Not quite as young as the lad she'd pinned to that table at the inn, but it was apparent he hadn't gotten his sea legs yet.

"Stay on your feet lad or I'll tie you to the mast! See to it that the rations are properly secured, make sure the quartermaster has enough hands!" she called, the order mainly being an excuse to get him out of sight until he stopped wobbling.

Jacqueline smiled as Ren waved to her. She nodded back, as Angelique was still finishing up with her slightly battered hands. "Well, with all of the action topside, it was hard to find any reason to stay below-decks. Though it looks like you saw your fair share." The older woman furrowed her brow, finally getting a good look at the girl. The resemblance was uncanny, but...

"Angelique, have you finished yet?" Jacqueline asked her diligent niece.

"That should do it," Angelique replied, tying off the ends of the bandages around her aunt's hands. "You'll want to rinse that off with warm to hot water after a while, but that should heal it fast." Angelique rubbed the remnants of the ointment on her skirt.

"You should check up on the rest of the crew," Jacqueline said, waving the lieutenant over. "I'm nearly positive they haven't a surgeon of any sort, and if you can handle a few bullet wounds here and there they might just not, what's the word?" She tried to snap, but the cloth muffled it. "Maron? No, maroon, that's it. I doubt they'd drop you off on an island."

Angelique pouted and sighed. "Fine, fine, but if you get in a fight before I get done you're patching yourself up!"

Watching the banter made Ren more than a little homesick, though the sight of Angelique starting to run off made Ren remember the primary reason for her visit. She grabbed the sack with the medical supplies she'd appropriated and held them out.

"Oi! Before you go, might have a need for this. I grabbed antiseptic and gauze, as well as any books or vials that looked important. Enough until we get the chance to properly stock up at port. Captain also hasn't had his arm looked at, though I'd make sure he sees you working on the rest of the crew a bit before you make the offer," Ren offered, wincing a second as the wond in her own shoulder from before they left port shot through her mind. Her adrenaline was dying down. She hid the wince as best she could with a wink, then looked away and towards Jacqueline. She didn't want the Captain to see her weak, which included getting treated, until they were at sea proper.

"Glad to see you both unharmed," Ren said, having already noted the fact that Jacqueline was very much unarmed. She wondered for a moment whose hands the pistol had winded up in, but she knew she'd catch hell either way. Regardless, she still didn't regret the act, wanting to make amends for having aimed it at her hero in the first place.

"Oh, I'm being rude. Lieutenant Ren Thompson, at your service," Ren said, bowing slightly as a gentleman might to a lady he was courting, though the grin on her face was that of a jest.

Angelique practically drooled at the medical supplies, particularly the books, as Ren handed then to her. She snatched them out of her hands and almost started pouring over them before she remembered where she was. She shoved the books in her pack and fit what else she could on top, opting to put the various vials in her skirt pockets! "Thank you thank you thank you!" Angelique called back to Ren as she rushed over to a few of the more battered crewmen.

Jacqueline laughed at her niece's antics and returned her attention to Ren. "I'm certainly lucky to be unharmed, though I must thank you for your help," Jacqueline added, remembering the pistol she had been passed. "Good to see you're no worse off."

The elder Thuron didn't return the bow, but frowned. "Thompson? Thompson... I know that name but where?" she mused. Then it hit her, and she felt like an idiot for not realizing sooner.

"Merde, you've certainly got his nose..." she muttered quietly, then added "You wouldn't happen to know Isaac Thompson?"

Ren's grin widened as she saluted, glad to know that her father had been remembered by the woman he'd spoken of so often to her.

"I'd hope so, Captain Isaac Thompson is my father. Retired after he took a wound to the leg fighting the infamous Serpent's Teeth. Told me stories about the encounters..." Ren said, reaching into her coat and pulling out the wanted poster once again, now handing it off to Jacqueline.

"Enough to convince a mischievous tomboy of a girl that the sea wasn't out of her reach."

“You’ve done well lads, and as such you will all have an extra ration of grog today.”
Rashid looked up in surprise at this. The captain hadn't told him anything about this. Rashid shook his head in disbelief. He jerked his head in the direction of the stairs to his young helper this week. Jack scrambled in the big man's wake heading towards the stairs down into the hold.
"What is the point of my job, if the Cap'n doesn't see fit to inquire about these type of things?He asked aloud on his way down. He sighed again and looked around.
"We've got our work cut out for us today, Jackaboy. Storing everything we captured, then dolling out grog." He shook his head again as he stepped into the cool darkness of the Acheron's hold. He withdrew the ship's ledger from it's shelf on his way to what he considered his domain. He sighed with satisfaction. Men started bringing more supplies to be stored down into the hold. Rashid stood off to the side, marked in the big, leather bound book that served as the ships ledger.
"Have I told ye I love me job, Jackaboy?" Rashid smiled as he caught Jack's eye roll.
"Many a time, sir"Jack responded sullenly. Rashid grinned at the youth's despondence.
As the last of the powder was being stored deep in the hold, and the netting was properly secured, Rashid made one last check of everything, just to be sure they men had done their job correctly.
"Now, what's this then, Jackaboy? Some powder monkey lazed about on his job!" Rashid glared down at the offending barrel, clearly left in the open and not with it's mates.
He hefted the barrel full of salted cod onto his shoulder, the ledger still under his other arm. He deposited the barrel in it's proper spot and turned around to see Jack pushing sacks of potatoes into shelves with their brothers.
"This ship would fall apart without the likes of you an' me doing our duties, right boyo?"He swung the heavy book around and signed his name at the end of the new supplies page. He breathed in, and out with a huff. This was where he belonged. In his domain, making the ships supplies in tip top shape. Everything in it's neat and proper order. He pulled out his pocketwatch.
"Almost time fer supper, Jackaboy. After grog is through, you can go and join yer mates and not before." Rashid growled in an almost teasing manner. He heard footsteps behind him, heavy boots descending into his realm. He turned around, expecting the Captain, coming to see about the grog.
"Sir, ye know our grog supplies aren't as strong as they should be. I'm not one to question yer decisions, but we'll be out of the devil's brew before the month is out." Rashid said as he turned around to behold the form of Angelique Thuron.
"Why hullo. I don't believe I've had the immense pleasure of making yer acquaintance."Rashid winked and doffed an invisible hat at this dropping into a low bow.
"I am none other than Tigerman Rashid Alamba, quartermaster. And you are?"

As Jacqueline took the poster, Ren was practically vibrating from excitement. Never in her wildest fantasies did she think she'd ever meet THE Serpent's Teeth out at sea, much less sail on the same vessel. She tried her level best to remain calm but the grin on her face was wider than any she'd managed in recent memory. She vowed that when Jacqueline looked back up from examining the poster, Ren could try to suppress the grin to keep from looking like a loon.

“You know, this was one of my favorite posters they put up?” Jacqueline said. “If I recall, these were put up not long after Tocaz and I “picked up’ the Screaming Serpent for a song- remind me to tell you about that one- and then we gathered enough crew to run it up and terrorize the Irish and English coasts. Almost ran aground a few times, but it certainly was a great way to get a feel for such a lovely ship. Saw these scattered about after a nasty brush with your father's ship, and I'm nearly positive he helped with the poster because it's actually accurate. One of the better to actually acknowledge me as a woman- not that I ever tried to hide it, mind,” Jacqueline added, then chuckled. “Honestly, some of the early ones made me look like my brother. I think they were just afraid to admit a girl carved them up and tossed them overboard.”

As Jacqueline raised her head and returned the paper, Ren simply nodded as she folded it gently and tucked it back into her coat. She tried to speak, but was afraid that all that would come from her was a church mouse's squeak.

“Merci, mon ami. I'm glad my years at sea did something more than terrorize the English. I must say though, that I inspired one as remarkable as you is certainly something. We'll have to spar sometime, see if Issac actually taught you anything.”

The smile made it's return as Ren patted her hilt.

"Taught me more than even he knows. Even after he came home to stay, he kept practicing in the gardens where he thought I couldn't see him. I learned so much just by watching the way he moved. The way the speed and power came from his hips and not his arms, proper foot placement... I got ten lashes once for getting into a fight with a crewmate that kept throwing rotten fruit at the decks I'd just scrubbed. Ran my mouth and he hit me. I hit back so he drew his sabre. Disarmed him with a mop handle and slapped him with the wet mop head. Bosun didn't have nearly the sense of humor I did about it," Ren said, a playful look to her now as she lingered in the memory. Hearing the Bosun yelling at the new crewman snapped her out of it, and Ren's face shifted back to one a bit more serious.

"You or your Niece need anything at all, you just say the word. Short of getting in the Captain's bad graces, mind you," Ren said, looking over her shoulder now at Angelique, her face twisting into disgust as she saw Carrington lurking about her.

"Especially at the cost of that soggy excuse of a navigator..." Ren spat.

Jacqueline followed Ren's gaze and her mood immediately soured. The Navigator had rubbed her the wrong way since she laid eyes on him. He had an insane sort of flair about him that reminded her far too much of the Medusa.

"I doubt with a man such as he aboard you'll have any trouble souring your relationship with the Captain," Jacqueline scowled, fighting to keep her arms crossed and not at her hip, where her frying pan was in the loop where her saber should have been. "I'd watch him. Reminds me too much of someone I used to sail under."

"Already had to drag his ass out of the ocean once today. Surprised he can still muster all that bravado with his trousers soaked through to his skivvies like that. I'll keep an eye on him, but he has more pull with the crew than I as of yet. Keep a weather eye on your niece... he seems to be interested in her. Doubtful many survive his interest..." Ren said, her tone more hushed now as she watched Carrington skip along towards the Captain, her scowl deepening as he pointed towards her.

"I've no idea when, but I can tell I'm going to have to cross swords with him sooner rather than later. Should probably get our spar in before then," Ren mused, looking back towards Jacqueline. "Think it would be poor form to just shoot him when he goes for his hilt?"

"It's always better to get a fair fight in, but if you must, you must," Jacqueline said, shrugging. "Though I am a touch surprised his pride didn't weigh him down so much that the sea could claim him. Perhaps he's pompous enough that the waves refused him?" She thought for a moment, then let it go. Ren probably wouldn't recognize her other saber.

"Shit floats," Ren shrugged, smiling a cheeky grin as she readjusted the bag that had been resting on her shoulder. She was about to speak again when Nate called out to the crew, demanding that they gather. Ren nearly rolled her eyes, knowing he was probably going to pat the crew on the back for taking out two warships and having the ship come out smiling. She wasn't disappointed, but the crew ate it up and they did deserve the recognition. Ren raised an eyebrow at the mention of extra rations of grog, though. She'd heard pirates drank the stuff like water... the idea of it being rationed...

Ren shook her head again and turned back to Jacqueline.

"I trust you've had the chance to speak to the Captain, then? What did he think about having such a famous pirate aboard his ship?" Ren asked, a sincere smile on her face, but one born of naivete. It faded slightly as Captain Sellar's words carried across the deck.

"Lieutenant Thompson, when we are clear do the honours and sink that hulk. I want it on the bottom in twenty minutes. That’s all.”

Ren turned on her heels to salute and gave a hearty "Aye, sir!" before turning back to continue her talks with Jacqueline.

Jacqueline smiled a bit at the shouts of the crew, then answered Ren. "Never made mention of it, and I've no intention of telling him unless he asks," Jacqueline said flatly. "The girl that came up chasing me is after the bounty on my head, and if it's half as good as I remember then any man with an inkling for gold would be interested," she added. "If he asks you, for your own sake... don't try to hide it." Jacqueline glanced at Nate and Carrington as they went below-decks. "That's my fight, not yours."

Though she doubted it would be a fair fight. Despite the years away, Jacqueline still doubted she could be beaten with her blade in hand. Practice was sparse with people, but that saber flew in her hands. With its twin, if she ever got it back, she’d be unstoppable once again. Boring, but safe.

Ren frowned at Jacqueline's request, looking over the ship once more before letting out a sigh. "Fine, though yours won't be the only one with a target on their back should word spread," Ren said, looking back at Angelique as she reached into her pocket and once more withdrew the wanted poster, studying it for a moment. The paper was old and the edges cracking from wear and tear, the parchment yellowing and crinkled from getting soaked and dried several times, but what Ren really focused on was the face on the poster. She studied the features of her hero's face, the smug grin on her face and her blonde hair seeming to sway in an assumed wind. 'It really was a good likeness,' Ren thought to herself before handing it to Jacqueline.

"Either way, probably best I not have blatant proof on my person. I get the feeling Carrington is going to be on my back for some time and the less ammunition he has the better," Ren said calmly, turning to walk away before Jacqueline could return it. If Carrington had seen Ren with it as he ran to the Captain like some mongrel to its master, then doubtless he would make mention of it. Best for it to not be on her person should that occur, for the Thuron's sakes.

Walking now to the Gun deck to begin preparations to sink the Illustrious, Ren noticed a vaguely familiar girl tinkering with the long nines. Seeing as Ren was the only woman hired proper and the Thurons were both to her back now, she assumed the unassuming girl here must be the bounty hunter Jacqueline had made mention of. The hell was she doing to the cannons?

"Oi!" Ren called as she started into a jog, double timing to the girl.

"Captain Sellars know you're up here playing with the artillery?" Ren asked, though looked from the girl to the chaser she had been working on. It looked as though the vent had been not only cleaned but polished, and the rope work holding it in place had recently been retied and refitted.

Ren let out a low whistle as she crouched down to get a better look at what Karena had managed to spruce up.

"Apologies, Miss. Handsome job on the vent and the rigging... Even if Sellars is unawares this is far from the tinkering of a novice. Don't suppose you'd be interested in taking a break long enough to assist me in sending that Navy ship down to the depths? Could use a keen eye to inspect the thirty-twos below deck," Ren asked, a grin on her face. She might hold a slight grudge for the girl dogging Ms. Thuron, but she'd be damned if she didn't have a weakness for women knowing their stuff aboard a ship.

Angelique was giddy with glee as she set about fixing up the men aboard the Acheron. After Ren had given her the treasure of a lifetime of books and vials and the like, she had set upon the closest wounded man she could find, cleaning up his minor scrapes and cuts as though his life depended on it. Not that he seemed to mind; if anything, the sailor seemed to enjoy being cleaned up by such a pretty face as herself.

She was nearly finished with the man when she heard someone speak beside her.

“Bonjour, ma belle femme,” the voice of the navigator carried through her focus. Her head lifted to behold his soaked, pistol laden form, hair sticking up and bloodied like the rest of him. Fortunately, none of it appeared to be his, though secretly she wished some of it was so she could stitch him up. His charm was almost as intoxicating as the old bottle of wine she'd swiped last year from Bertie when he was asleep. Despite the gore, Carrington was certainly handsome.

She was about to reply and bat her lashes at him, but his eyes suddenly narrowed past her towards her aunt. “Hold that thought, lass,” he whispered to her, and headed off to talk to the captain. Angelique shrugged. There were plenty of handsome, easily manipulated men aboard, and losing the interest of one (even one as alluring as Carrington) was nothing to worry about.

The young Thuron patted the man on the shoulder. “Be careful, okay? As much as I'd love to see you again, I'd rather not be dressing you up.” Angelique gave the man a wink before flitting off to a man with a decent gash in his leg. She went around like this for a few minutes, fixing up the men that would let her work and making note of those with worse injuries for later. It was hard to work with the Captain’s speech, and she had to practically chase her latest victim deep into the ship.

Angelique hated the way the ship was laid out, as she couldn't find the way back up on deck once she lost the sailor she was looking for. She stumbled around for a bit like a lost puppy, seeing not a single person to assist her in her quest to fix up all the injured aboard the Acheron. She ended up heading further down, clomping around until she found herself almost running into a tall, broad man on her way into the hold.

“Sir, ye know our grog supplies aren't as strong as they should be. I'm not one to question yer decisions, but we'll be out of the devil's brew before the month is out,” the man began, before realizing that this was not, in fact, the captain. “Why hullo. I don't believe I've had the immense pleasure of making yer acquaintance." He winked and doffed an invisible hat as he dropped into a low bow. "I am none other than Tigerman Rashid Alamba, quartermaster. And you are?"

Angelique scowled as he bowed. “You certainly have the manners of a tiger,” she muttered before putting on her sweetest darling face. “Angelique, the new ship’s doctor,” she replied, smiling and curtsying. “Though I seem to have gotten a mite lost, good sir. You haven't happened to see a man with matted brown hair and blood running down his left side of his face? Head wounds do bleed more than anything, and I'd like to get him cleaned up before he passes out.” She kept a smile on her face as she talked, glancing around the hold of the ship. It seemed bigger on the inside than she expected.

The recent skirmish with the naval frigate, the Illustrious, left Josephine shaken. It had been many years since she had been around gunfire, let alone cannonfire. On the bright side, repairs on the Acheron would be better than she expected. The main concern of the boatwright was whatever damage was done to the hull when the idiot that was at the helm rammed the Acheron sidelong into the Illustrious. The patch work that had been done in town was not enough to hold well against even a softer bump.

Josephine sighed as she examined what damage she could from the inside of the hull. She had the figure out what she would need to do a quick patch job without wasting supplies. Absent-mindedly, she twirled her hammer in her right hand as she took mental notes. “I don’ understand why rammin’ another boat would be a good idea.” she grumbled as she turned to get what she’d need.

The walk towards the hold lasted a while because Josephine made a wrong turn and had to stop and think about the layout of the ship. When she got back on the path to the hold, she had a little bit of a headache. “It is goin’ to be a long day.” She thought.

As she walked into the hold, Josephine pushed the sleeves of her white shirt over her elbows and scanned over the people in the hold. A blonde girl, aged around her late teens or early twenties, was rushing around tending to the crew’s wounds before she stopped to speak with a man that had shoulder-length black hair.

Rubbing her temples in circles, Josephine walked up to the two people conversing. The blonde girl had just finished speaking about a wounded man. “So I see you have work to do,” Josephine gestured at the blonde, “Could you assist me in carryin’ some supplies for a temporary repair?” she addressed the man.

Cannons fired not even a full second after Josephine adressed the man that spoke with the blonde lady. The thunderous reports of the cannons made Josephine flinch before she remembered that the crew needed to sink the Illustrious. She then attempted to calm herself as her heart beat on her ribs like a caged bear. It hadn't been long since Josephine first boarded the Acheron, and after a while she would get used to the crashing and clanging sounds of raging combats.

Josephine looked down and popped her knuckles before pushing her sleeves back up to her elbows and crossing her arms. A strand of her brown hair had fallen out of the strip of red cloth that held her hair in a bun and hung down the side of her face curving slightly aside the curve of her porcelain cheek. She steadied herself by changing her footing to a more widespread stance. Her brown trousers, which were torn just below her knees, swayed slightly in response to the change of position.

She let a short breath out in a failed attempt to steady her whirling nerves. "My apologies for that. It's been some time since I have actually left port on a ship." She sighed as she moved the stubborn piece of hair out of her face. "I will be needin' help transportin' the supplies required for the patchin' the boat needs at the soonest opportunity." The cannonfire must have made Josephine forget that the blonde lass was busy patching the crew because she spoken more pointedly at the lass than at the seemingly unoccupied man that stood beside them.

Angelique clasped her slightly bloody hands together and turned to her savior. "Oh, thank God I'm not the only one that's not good on a ship still. I'll see if I can't find you some strapping men that aren't bleeding heavily. Speaking of which, did you suffer any hits?" The young woman glanced up and down the carpenter. "I'm not seeing anything, but let me know if you start to feel light headed or dizzy. Or if you just need a bandage. I'm still pretty good on everything right now." Angelique smiled before adding, "Ah, I don't believe I got your name, miss...?"

Josephine stifled a smile at the blonde. It was a good feeling to not be laughed at by at least one person for such a visible display of fear and discomfort. The lady did seem to care only for leeping damaged people alive. That was an admirable quality for a doctor. When the doctor asked Josephine for her name, Josephine held her hand out for a handshake. "I'm Josephine, and you are?" Perhaps Josephine could find a friend here other than the boat itself.

Angelique wiped her hands on her skirt quickly before taking Josephine's hand. "Angelique, please. The pleasure is mine. Glad to know there's another woman aboard other than my aunt and the boyish lieutenant. We'll have to chat once everything has gotten calmer around this place." She broke the handshake and gave a start. "I still need to check on everyone else! I'll send some cute boys your way to help you out, Josephine, though they might be a bit dazed after I get through with them!" She laughed and did a little curtsy. "I'll be off, then. Adieu!" Angelique flitted back out of the hold, leaving Josephine to her own devices. After all, she had sailors to attend to, and perhaps she'd run into that cute navigator.

Josephine nodded at Angelique as she introduced herself and broke the handshake, "Their help'll be much appreciated." Josephine then went to gather supplies she needed and make sure that when help arrived, it wouldn't be difficult to start moving. She needed wood, nails, and a saw. Josephine then realized that her hammer wasn't currently on her person. She began looking around her, "Maybe I dropped it." she mumbled quickly to herself. After a few minutes of this panicked search, she remembered that she set the hammer down where she needed to do repairs. She relaxed and then double checked the supplies she had gotten ready for transport.

Angelique must have kept to her word of sending people because soon after Josephine finished double checking everything, two men showed up to assist her. The two men were rather strong and seemed too tired to care that they were taking orders from a petite lady like Josephine. They helped her transport the supplies. During the walk, Josephine saw Angelique running around covered in more blood than before. When Josephine and the two men got to their destination, the two men told her that they had to get some rest. Josephine thanked them with a kiss on their cheeks then went to work. She simply patched holes and reinforced any weak spot that she could before she got tired and had to retire to rest for the night.

Josephine decided that she would be back to work in the morning and it wasn't worth moving. She lied against a freshly repaired part of the hull and soon found herself in her dreams.