Hearing his words
The following post was from my original blog on ronincyberpunk.com, it is archived here for posterity purposes
Alright folks, next chapter of the story. If you want to read the past entries go visit the archive for "The Immortal"
Captain Davis sat in his chair, shining his sword, the sway of the vessel causing the soft sound of metal sliding over metal. The boards of the ship creaked under the stress as the steersman brought her about for the next leg of the tacking. His expression was cold, his face emotionless. He took this sword and held it into the light, watching the light shine he nodded his satisfaction and slid it into his scabbard. Rising he walked to the door of his quarters, his boots clicking with each step. He stood for a moment longer, his hands clasped behind his back, pausing to clear his mind.
The doors to his quarters opened as he emerged, he let them fall closed behind him and he looked over the port side to spy the much larger ship, the Union Jack easily visible flying from their mast. Katja and Ian stood fidgeting, waiting for him to either say something or give some sign of his thoughts. He merely nodded to them, and they both took only a moment to realize he either had guessed as much or was accepting it that quickly.
Cicero strode his deck, nodding to his crew to acknowledge their efforts, he approached the bow and turned to look back over the ship. Clearing his throat and suddenly the deck fell silent, before every battle he gave words – words of wisdom, advice, of calm.
"Today, we face a new opponent. One you all have undoubtedly noticed was lacking on our list of prey, one which will promise us a new level which we must attain. Thus far we have but given them our ship's name and my name to call us by, after what this will bring, they will know each of your names. They will know your stories, and for those of you they don't – they'll make them. Regardless of how long you stay aboard my ship, our ship, you will leave with a name to be recognized." He paused, taking two steps to the stern, his hands still clasped behind his back. "Today, we will take that ship. And will take that flag. And we will put it below our decks, adding it to our collection of such items. The Queen knows us only through the victories we hold over others, today – she will know us personally. Whatever we claim today is yours. I will have no share in it, this victory will be my share."
And with that he fell quiet, calmly striding to the stern of the boat – and for a moment the only sounds were the clicking of his heels on the deck as well as the straining of the ship's very hull. That relative quiet was shattered by the uproarious cheers of his sailors.
"Captain, do you hear that?" Lieutenant Adams inquired. Both the Lieutenant and Captain Williamson turned to look across the water to watch the ship with it's red flag.
"Do we know it's name yet?"
"No Captain, the sun at her back puts it in the shadows."
"Fine, then continue preparations, anyone cocky enough to fly their red flag thus openly deserves to feel our bite."
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