Prologue:
Inside the Captain’s quarters there was a calm. Away from the hustle and bustle of his crew, the Captain could think here, like it was his sanctuary. Filled with just the bare necessities (a hammock, desk, a few bookcases, and, of course, a personal liquor cabinet), it was a place where he could carefully calculate his next move in peace. He sat hunched over the desk, which practically dominated the tiny room, with an intensity, delicately tracing some figures upon a map of blueprints.
“Yes,” he murmured to himself, “This way, then put this here, a little bit that a ways. Yes, it is…genius.” He chuckled somewhat darkly and said once more, “Genius,” before gently, almost lovingly, beginning to roll the blueprints into a tight scroll.
“Captain!” a young sailor poked his head inside the door letting in a wave of gunshots sounds and yells from the outside destroying the tranquil setting.
“What is it?” the captain growled not looking up from his current task, “Why ye be disturbin’ the Captain when he would most like not to be disturbed, eh?”
“Well, um, “ the sailor quivered, “It’s just that there seems to be a small problem…”
“A problem, eh? Pray tell of this small…” He paused for a moment, raised his head, and stared coldly at the sailor while finishing, “Of this small…calamity?”
“Uh, “ the young boy cleared his throat uncertainly and was at once jerked back and a much different face appeared in the doorway. It was half-machine and half-man, a cyborg.
“First Mate Walker,” the Captain said as he rose from his chair, “Please do not tell Ol’ Phil that what that blubberin’ lad be talkin’ ‘bout be what I be thinkin’.”
“Well, Sir,” Walker explained, “We pulled up along side her, as was planned, but the ship contained far more firepower than we had planned. The men are having a bit more trouble completin’ the mission as they can’t board, as we did plan.”
“Clear the way, Walker, “ the Captain strode across his cabin saying, “Pirates just ain’t what they use to be.”
He stepped out onto the deck, which was really a battlefield. Bodies lay strewn about with men fighting on top of them and lasers shot overhead their colors bent by the smoke. Yet amidst all the chaos, the Captain marched confidently down the deck, this massive figure occasionally darting from side to side, in a surprising display of grace, slaying all in his path. He headed to where the other ship, the Anna-Marie, had been tethered and began bellowing, “Prepare to board!” Grabbing a rope, he yelled again to his crew, adding, "Move your lily-livered arses...now!!!," to make sure his message got across.
“But Captain,” Walker spoke from his leader’s side, “Their security robots out number us three to one!”
The Captain wheeled around and looked the First Mate firmly in his human and robotic eyes. “And I say, we board that ship. No ‘bots going to stand in my way. Now be a ruthless lil’ first mate and hop to it.”
“Yes, sir,” Walker turned and began shouting orders to the remaining pirates who then began shouting expletives in return. “Just grab a damn rope!” he snapped at them, “And you will swing when the Captain says you will! Aye?!”
A chorus of “Aarghs!” and more expletives rose above the gunfire, ringing off the brass gears of the ships. The men struggled to the railing trying to be as merciless as their Captain while fighting off feelings of doubt and the opposing force.
The Captain then shouted, “To terror!” and swung himself to the Anna-Marie, knocking a few robots overboard in the process. He drew his saber and began knocking back the automatons, creating a path for himself, directly towards the center of the ship. Trailing in his wake, the young sailor from earlier struggled to fire and re-load his gun as the fight raged around him. The other pirates began to follow suit, many screaming themselves in terror as hot blasts of fire from both ships continued to rain down. They thudded down upon the foreign deck and fought against the robots who continuously said, “Cease your actions or we will use force…Cease your actions or we will use force…Cease…”Pistols fired and knives clashed with the steel armor of the machines, sending sparks flying.
“You,” the Captain pointed to the young sailor behind him, “Come with me.”
“Me?” the boy squeaked and continued to squeak as he followed the Captain to the ship’s engine room, battling for his adolescent life along the way.
They reached the door, which the Captain shoved open, consequently knocking down a few figures on the other side. He didn’t even spare them a glance as he barreled downwards the narrow hallway with the fledgling crewmember close behind. They were moving so far down inside of the ship that even the blasts of gunfire were starting to fade away.
“Where are we going?” the frightened sailor asked.
“Deeper into the heart of the ship,” the Captain returned, “They have something we be needing. Now, hush and carry this.” He produced something from within his long leather jacket and handed it to the boy. They rounded a corner almost at a run and a blue glow appeared at the end of the hall. The Captain slowed and crept closer, remaining in the shadows, towards a figure drooped in front of a dome that was giving off the mysterious light.
The figure turned slowly around and blinked at him. “Cedric, is that you? It can’t be dinner already.”
“No,” the Captain said, “But ye won’t be needing to worry ‘bout that no more.” He drew his pistol and cocked it, pointing it at the feeble, old man in front of him. “Any last words?”
The elderly figure seemed shocked for a moment, but then regained his composure. He shakily pushed his glasses up his nose, and strongly said, “Phillip William Scott, Captain of Evangeline’s Fury, demon airship of the skies. I knew you’d come someday, you damned pirate. May you burn in---”
He broke off as the Captain shot him square in the chest. He chuckled and said, “It’s great to be talked about. Ain’t it, boy?”
“Y-yes sir,” stammered the lad from his place in the shadows.
“Yes, indeed,” said the Captain as he meandered to the dome and broke it with a quick tap from his pistol. He grabbed what was inside and instantly the Anna-Marie began to feel a lot less weightless and more like a merchant airship with 113 tons of cargo. Quickly, the Captain started his way back the way he came, but then stopped and called to the young sailor behind him, “Stay back, won’t ye boy and, don’t be letting go off that there bomb.” He trekked back to the surface as his laughter echoed off the walls.
“Bomb?” the boy squeaked as the object itself, counting down the whole time it was in his possession, began to tick more fervently. “Bomb?” the boy said again paralyzed in his place and remained in this condition until there was a fiery explosion and the Anna-Marie began her last descent to the ground.
