Pirate Games, Part III of IV
Posted on Wed Mar 10th, 2021 @ 1:35am by Lieutenant JG Miraj Derani
Mission:
MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: USS Elysium Holodeck
Timeline: Guided by Starlight MD 16 2000
2218 words - 4.4 OF Standard Post Measure
Previously in Pirate Games
S'hib gripped the rope, his four fingers wrapping around it tightly as he glanced between the two. "Well, what are ye waiting for!" He bellowed, taking a few steps back, hooves clicking eagerly on the decking. "they've had their chance to surrender!" He added before taking off into a quick sprint, his long legs covering the deck in but a few strides as he launched himself over the side of the ship.
He spied the waves crashing between the two vessels as they crashed up against one another, splintering panels and hatches as he came down on the other ship.
And now the continuation
His hooves thumped loudly as he steadied himself, casting the rope away as he glanced about the merchant marines before him, their stunned expressions putting a small smile on his face. "Come now, don't tell me ye never been boarded before?" He snorted as he unsheathed his sabre, twisting the end to the nearest man, beckoning him to fight as more of his crew started to swing over.
George followed S’hib immediately. He landed in a quieter squat than his shipmate did. Standing up slowly, he glared at the cowering merchant sailors, drawing his cutlass slowly and with deliberate movements. Placing his back to S’hib, he raised his blade, daring any to attempt to attack his captain’s back.
Merchant Marines in bright red coats came for them. The genuine solderis holding back. Some shot with flintlocks, and other muskets, final volleys that cut down their number, but those closes to S'hib and George had already spent theri weapons, casting then aside before advancing with cutlasses and sabres.
One sailor, with dark shaggy and greasy hair to his shoulders, lunged for George, cutting high, slashing for his eyes
George brought his cutlass up, first blocking the wild swing. Then, he shifted his weight, shoving the other man off balance, before drawing his flintlock pistols and shooting the sailor from the hip, the round burying itself deep in the attacker's gut. George's opponent crumpled to the deck, dying from the internal damage caused by the shot. George quickly recovered and looked for another threat.
Another, fine red frock coat already marred by the blood of the Hades' crew came for S'hib, this time with a plug bayonet in the end of his musket, stabbing low for the sequus' delicate legs.
His sabre curled, twisting his wrist so the blade pointed to the desk before catching the bayonet, deflecting it to his right as he lunged a hoof forward, slamming the man in his chest and hurling him back across the deck.
Now the two ships were closer, Miraj took her own chance to swing across, pushing off from the rail of the Hades with all her strength, four pistols in a bandolier across her front and two more holstered on her belt, tucked into the small of her back. She sailed over the gap, the ocean some way below, aiming for the main deck of the other.
And just as she cleared the deck on the Infanta, instead of clocking a marine in the head, he twisted at the last moment and caught her ankle. The momentum of the rope was pulling her back, but the marine had a firm grip, and she lashed out, not wanting to get dragged off the rope, kicking the marine in the face. He yelled and let go, setting her swinging back to the Hades.
As George was running a marine through with his cutlass, he felt Miraj’s surprise. He then caught the Yelp off to his right. Yanking his blade free, he spun to see Miraj swinging back towards the Hades, however, her angle was going to have her smack the backs of her legs on the railing. Without even thinking about the consequences, he closed his mind and sent a thought directly into her mind. While the intrusion lasted only a split second, he conveyed the entirety of her danger to her.
Miraj twisted round, not sure where the image had come from, and her eyes went wide as she realised, too late, what was about to happen. But she hit the rail facing it, rather than slamming into it back first. She lost her grip on the rope and slammed into the rail, managing to grab it rather than tumble into the sea.
One of the merchant marines took advantage of George's distraction to slam the butt of his musket into the fighter pilot's head.
As the hologram was not a real person, thus had no thoughts or emotions to betray its actions, George never knew the hit was coming until it hit, snapping his head around and dropping him to his knees. His reaction was immediate, and, were they real enemy sailors, quite deadly.
Spitting out the tooth that was just broken, the young Betazoid turned his gaze to his attacker. It was a burly man, jeering down at George, about ready to slam another buttstroke home.
George's eyes dilated so far that his eyes looked nearly totally black. With a snarl, he lunged upwards, moving inside his attackers area of movement. In one swift motion, George had reached up, grabbed the hologram's throat, squeezed the Adam's apple, and wrenched it free, ripping the throat apart. Holographic blood spurted everywhere as the merchant marine died violently.
Turning his anger fueled glare to the next nearest enemy, George set upon him in a similarly feral manner. He used every weapon at his disposal, slaying one holographic foe after another. He wasn't thinking about his actions, he was simply going on rage and instinct. All that kept going through his mind was a combination of his sister being raped by their foster father, and Miraj being hurt.
The sight of this crazed beast, blood washed across his face and hands, his victim twitching at his feet the merchant marines hesitated, horrified. And the crew of the Hades took full advantage, quickly rushing the nearby marines, shooting some, slashing others, pressing them back, gaining the deck, and pushing the red coats back. Sailors already scattered and cowering, left the marines to whatever resistance they suddenly had little desire to give.
"AY! That be enough!" S'hib bellowed, unaware of the feral beast that was rampaging over the deck. "We will need whoever's left to move the cargo!" he yelled, cleaning the blood off his blade on the sleeve of another pirate.
Both hearing the words and feeling the commanding attitude, George paused. While it wasn’t a long pause, it was enough for his rational mind to regain control. It took him a few beats to collect himself, then, standing straighter, he finally finished composing himself. He then cleared his throat and kicked a cow ring merchant marine in the ass. “You heard your new master, slave, move your cargo to his ship!”
"Easy," Miraj finally made it across to George, using the gangplank this time, hand resting on her sore tummy. "The ship is ours. We've won. No need to scare them further."
Hearing her voice and feeling her calm demeanor, George closed his eyes, took a deep, refreshing breath, and visibly relaxed. Nodding his head, he looked like he had just gone three rounds with an angry Gorn. "Thanks," he whispered. "Sorry."
The captain of the Bella Infanta came forward and glared at S'hib. "What are your term, Senor?"
"What be ye carrying that is so precious..." S'hib started, portraying his best bloodbeard as he slowly clicked his hooves towards the captain before him. "That you would hire these fine gentlemen," He added, gesturing the tip of his sabre at a dead merchant marine. "No amount of salted meats or drink be this important." He finished, turning his face to one side to glare at the captain with one good eye.
"What say ye, Cap'n... cause I'll only ask this once." He added with a heavy snort, resting the sabre against the man's cheek.
The defeated captain went very still as the sword brushed his face. "Nothing, Senor. Sugar and Rum for Cadiz. That is all, Senor, I swear it." The sweat on the mans face could have been exertion or fear, there was no way to tell
“Ye best be a man of your word, or I won't leave ye and whomever isn't dead with enough supplies to reach port.” S’hib threatened, turning on hoof and sliding his sabre into its sheath before the Captain could reply.
“Disarm the crew and search the ship!” He bellowed, watching the crew suddenly scurry about. “the Captain and I are going to have a little chat...” S’hib said softly, more to the man behind him than anyone else as he beckoned Stains and Roger over.
Miraj trotted up to S'hib, eager to hear what he had to say.
George stepped forward, scowling at the defeated captain, as he continued to wipe the blood from his cutlass. Moving his eyes up to S'hib, he said, "Aye, Cap'n?"
The captain of the Bella Infanta swallowed, fearing that a little chat with the infamous Bloodbeard would end in pain, suffering and death. "Senor, we are just humble sugar merchants."
"Aye, you keep saying that..." S'hib practically spat as he grabbed the man by the scruff of his coat.
"And I just want to talk, so it would be in both our interests that you humble me with your words." He snorted, beckoning the two behind him without saying a word as he pushed the captain into his quarters.
George followed S'hib silently, continuing to give the merchant captain a stern scowl.
"This feels too easy," Miraj decided, casting an eye over the deck of the Bella Infanta, where pirates were now checking every barrell and crate. "Does this feel too easy to you?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing," S'hib replied, pushing the captain to his desk. "Did we pick the right difficulty?" He mused, patting the merchant as he sat awkwardly in his grandiose chair.
Miraj perched herself on the edge of the captains desk, casting her eyes over the maps and charts there. "Hang on." She looked at several of the markings and bearings. "How can you have rum and sugar when you've not stopped at Jamaica, or Cuba or Hispianola?" Her fingers traced the route marked. "Chetumal, in Mexico, and only a stop at Caicos for water..., then a hard run to the Azores," her fingers ran across the map, "And then Gibraltar?
Unfamiliar with the significance or what Miraj uncovered, George asked aloud, "What does that mean? Did we attack the wrong ship?"
Mirajthought about it. The section she'd played before this one had been fairly emphatic in that this would be the best option. "I think so. I mean, the gold ship was to heavily guarded in convoy, and the SS folkstone had tea which would we'd have to haul all the way to the English colonies to turn a profit. We could get rid of the rum and sugar in Florida."
"Argh!" S'hib growled, slamming a pistol down on the desk before turning it to face the captains gut. "Me crew aren't stupid and ye maps don't lie, so what aren't you telling me..." He added as he clicked back the hammer.
The spaniards eye's darted left and right. to the windows that looked to stern, to the sea chest at the foot of his narrow bed, and back to S'hib. "Senor, There is nothing to tell, we are just - "
He was interrupted in his denials by the gunnery master opening the door. "We've been through the hold. No sugar, and barely enough rum to keep the crew in grog till the Azores. No other cargo neither," Bates pointed out. "Ships rigged for fast running, and there aint an ounce of unneeded weight left aboard. not so much as a cannon ball."
Drawing his cutlass from its scabbard, George growled to S'hib, while keeping his eyes burning into the merchant captain. "Let me at 'em, Cap'n. I'll get him to talk, or he will be soon much lighter."
"No..." He said softly, gently letting releasing the hammer and lifting it from the table. "But ye will talk, or the ship will burn..." S'hib continued, leaning in close to the terrified captain.
"But not with you aboard oh dear Cap'n, no no no, you can come back to my ship... that way you can listen to your crew curse your name as they die..."
"You monster!" The captain of the Bella Infanta paled at the very thought.
"Tut tut, Captain," George said with an evil grin. He had to admit to himself, he was really starting to enjoy this game. "You should speak to your better in such a disrespectful mannor." He paused, then gave the terrified man a predatory smile. "Besides, he's not the monster. Iam."
The captain looked like someone had walked over his grave. He tried a third time to protest his audience "Do your worst," His eyes flicked to his seachest, "It will not change that we are just merchants." But there was hesitation in his tone that didn't match his bravado.
To be Continued…
