A/N: Dedicated to Mr War who requested a fanfic. Inspired by Mr War's suggestions and also ClockwerkOrange's partial nautical approach in his current story.
The story is AU, however it retains the use of crystals, the names of the squadrons and the names of the characters themselves, despite their more mature depiction in this story. I don't know why, but I just felt obliged to explain the story with the latter sentence.
So, enjoy.
Chapter 1
Encircling the wooden table were men of a particular scent to Radarr. The blue creature sniffed the surrounding air and withdrew once again at the sour pungency of body odour, speckled with the salt of the seas herself and the familiar whiff of rum. Arms bared, they gleamed with sweat, occasionally scarred with the cutlass of battle, lacerating around the tattooed biceps. Some were missing hands, where stumps or hooks were in place instead. A man slammed a glass down, threatening to blemish the fragile clarity with trickling cracks. Radarr did not care if it broke or not, as some of the liquid splashed on his nose and he licked it clean. Aerrow never let him near rum because "animals shouldn't drink it" but Radarr knew the Captain was envious of his drinking abilities. Guess who won the drinking competition amongst the crew last year?
Padding along, through the midst of a rogues' brawl and sneaking a quick glance up the waitresses' skirts, Radarr found his crew in the corner of the inn. Lit only with a lone candle dangling from a creaky metal holder, it was hard for a man to make out the faces. Radarr was no man, but a beast of heightened senses, easily recognising and quickly acknowledging Finn's raised mug as a greeting. Junko sat opposite the lean blond, also bearing quite the opposite physique. Dark and burly, he had two mugs in his large hands, and gulped down the rum faster than Radarr could ask for some. Hidden in the shadows was Stork, an enigma employed by the Captain to sail their ship. His pallid green complexion prowled underneath the shadow of his tricorne, and a limp black feather of the hat dangled in a bored manner. An ignorant fool would mistake Stork as the Captain just from the assumption of bearing a hat, but many feared to voice these opinions. Stork always had a murderous gleam in his yellow glare.
"The Captain?" Stork muttered.
Radarr pointed with a blue paw at the pair in the doorway. The mere, sharp presence of their silhouettes demanded the immediate hush of the inn, accented with the singular crash of a mug on the timber floor. They strolled through the frozen, silent crowd, ignoring the admiring stares and cruel glares. Finally, the pair found a spot on the table, and the roar and clanking of glasses rose again.
"Always making a statement, aren't cha Captain?" Finn smirked at Aerrow.
The auburn tufts that protruded from his head in an untamed manner rustled as the Captain nodded. His emerald eyes that were daggers, deadly enough to stab fear in the hearts of many, softened at Finn's jest. Piper, the navigator and First Mate, chuckled and her stern demeanour relaxed as she quickly swiped the mug from Finn's hands.
"Hey!" the blond shouted.
"And a hello to you too, Finn. Thanks for buying me a drink," Piper winked as she gulped the rum down.
"Enough of this flirting," Stork almost spat, "But I think we should discuss what we found. Captain?"
"Right. We all have heard of the Cyclonians, yes?" the Captain whispered as he leaned forward. The crew nodded in mutual agreement.
"The fiercest crew in all of Atmos," Junko replied, "They scare me."
"Well, they do have the most fearsome reputation too, beating us to that spot," Finn grumbled, "Why don't we have that reputation?"
Piper answered his question with a 'humph' and she continued from where the Captain stopped. "They've got the last crystal of Atmos. Technically, the whole Atmos knows that after the Crystal War, but no one is daring to retrieve it. However, the thing is, they aren't exactly in possession of said crystal."
Taking a gulp of more rum, she continued. "As the Captain and I uncovered, they possess the "key" to the location of the last crystal. There is enough evidence that this key is on the ship, however the exact location is unknown. Also, the exact shape of this key is unknown too."
"Psh, and how is that gonna help us?" Finn sighed, "So much for recon. Not even a freaking treasure map."
"Don't question the First Mate," the Captain hissed protectively, "We've enough to go on."
Radarr's paw silently etched its way towards Piper's mug, but Aerrow snatched it before he could taste the sweet alcoholic euphoria. Junko chuckled at his efforts, and snuck several drops into Radarr's mouth as the Captain drank from Piper's mug.
"We will need you, Junko, Radarr and Stork on standby," the Captain ordered, pointedly glancing at Finn, "Piper and I will board the Cyclonian ship as one does."
"I don't mean to question your methods, Captain," Stork's voice wavered, "But wouldn't you and the First Mate prefer to face the deadly force in a more clandestine way? Going there head on will lead to one's immediate, untimely demise." Stork leaned forward, and his fingers steepled. "Then again, sneaking on will result in the same, but with a satisfying, lingering sense of doom as you slowly ease your way into hell."
"Thanks for your concern, but we were invited on board," Piper replied matter- of- factly. "We do have some sort of reputation, but not as fearsome as those of the Cyclonians. However, the reason as to why we received an invitation is unknown."
Stork chuckled darkly, "Oh, we have too many unknowns here."
"Which makes it all the more fun," the Captain replied, frowning despite his cheery tone. "Let's go."
Her pale façade lurked underneath the looming shadow of her dark violet tricorne, and her high collared cloak gave little away as to her full appearance. She sat upon a high crimson seat in the cabin of her ship, her spindly fingers stroking a valuable piece of her inventory.
"Captain Cyclonis," a deep voice said behind her. She hurriedly slid the item into a hidden box where it locked when its lid shut, put it beneath her desk, and turned to address her First Mate.
"Ah, the Dark Ace. The report?"
He handed over a file with a gloved hand that hid the scars of many battles. Cyclonis opened the folder and sheets spilled out, splaying like yellowing petals upon her ebony desk. Picking up a particular piece that looked as if it were folded too many times, and where age lingered at every crease, she furrowed her brow as she read, nodding at every detail.
"Why him?" the Dark Ace spoke again, faintly surprised at its curt delivery.
She snapped her head up and glared at him, fury dancing in her purple eyes. "Why you? Why did I choose you as First Mate?"
"Because I was capable," he replied immediately.
"And so is he," she retorted, pointing at the files, "He is too capable." She sighed as if it were an apology to the Dark Ace and her eyes softened. "We need to know our enemy as much as we know ourselves. It is the only way we can protect the crystal."
She turned her back to the Dark Ace and took out her spyglass. Peering through, she saw two figures walking in the direction of her ship. Cyclonis retracted it with a click and nodded to her First Mate, who left her alone in the cabin. Minutes later, he returned with Aerrow and Piper in front of him. His face had contorted to something of disgust and hatred, and Cyclonis had to swallow a laugh at his unhappiness.
"Captain Cyclonis," Aerrow greeted drily. His First Mate nodded and greeted the same way. Aerrow disliked how her face was concealed with her hat and high collar, so only her piercing eyes shone through. It was to him the same as withholding information; if they cannot trust you with their face, how could you trust them with their words?
It seemed as if she heard his mental desire, and with a flourish, Cyclonis threw off her cloak and gently removed her hat. Only the Dark Ace had seen her in her full glory, where Cyclonis' violet naval jacket outlined every luscious curve of her body, and her heeled boots accented her thin legs. Her leather pants clung tightly to her waist and hips, and the audience could not help but stare.
She swayed closer to Aerrow, whose brow furrowed at her proximity. "Well, Captain Aerrow, what is it you like me to do?" she asked huskily.
Piper squeezed Aerrow's arm as she quickly excused herself, to which Cyclonis nodded to. There was only one person she wanted to charm, and the Dark Ace was almost immune to Cyclonis' attraction.
"It's hard," Aerrow finally answered, "The request, I mean." The Dark Ace laughed quietly behind him.
"Come. Spill out your request. I am not here for you to waste my time," Cyclonis snapped as she withdrew from Aerrow's gaze, "I have more important things to do. Dark Ace."
Her First Mate drew out his scimitar and tickled Aerrow's neck with its long, sharp and curved blade. The metal gleamed and refleced the Dark Ace's smirk. The red head etched his fingers down to his dirks, but the cold metal seemed to sink deeper into his flesh, allowing the smallest trickle of crimson.
"Now, don't cut his throat before he speaks his true intentions," she said darkly, "But if you don't speak quick enough Aerrow, off goes your head."
"Yes, Captain Cyclonis," he hesitantly addressed her, "I come in the request of the last crystal of Atmos. I understand you do not physically have the crystal here, but the key or a map to its specific location is what I need."
"There is a reason that Atmos has one crystal left," Cyclonis rasped with fury, "And it is because of you pesky fools, destroying every last one in that War. None of you Storm Hawks or the Resistance are even worthy of being in the presence of a crystal. And I should know. I was the queen of the merchants, and my crystal business has now been reduced to pillaging your pitiful villages and ships."
The Resistance was spearheaded by the Storm Hawks themselves, where many other crews were invested in their goals of using crystal power for good and not otherwise. The reign of Cyclonian crystal technology and resources grew year by year, taking over the market and reducing many prosperous merchants into sea beggars and thieves. Numbers of the Resistance rapidly diminished as members succumbed to the sheer raw essence and suffocating power of crystals. Master Cyclonis, as named in her full glory, was the Merchant Queen before the Resistance won the War.
Aerrow wanted to apologise on behalf of the whole Atmos for this mess, but her selfishness in hiding the crystal and her criminal intentions were unforgivable. Despite being renowned for crystal merchandising, Cyclonians were known for their desire to subjugate and control the Atmos with the addictive control of crystals. Now there was only one, and whole of Atmos depended on it.
"Without this crystal, Atmos will be destroyed. The sea monsters are awakening," Aerrow stated firmly, cringing at the sting of his neck wound.
"Sea monsters? They are a-"
A fire alarm exploded with piercing shriek, drowning out Cyclonis' sentence. She glanced over behind her desk, eyes wide with panic. Aerrow took the opportunity to spin around and kick the distracted Dark Ace, grabbing his weapon from his loose grip and quickly pressing the blade against Cyclonis' neck. He pulled her arms behind her and clicked them in a pair of handcuffs, whilst holding the scimitar that threatened to slice her throat.
Piper sauntered casually back into the room, holding a lighter in one hand and a burnt scrap of papyrus in the other. The Dark Ace recovered from his fall, launching to attack the Storm Hawk's First Mate, but she stuck out her lit lighter, forcing him to recoil. She punched him the jaw and kicked him in the groin in that split second. He fell back into the corner, howling in pain.
"So where is it, Captain Aerrow?" Piper gleefully asked.
"Behind and beneath the desk," he answered as Cyclonis gasped. She struggled in his grip, but the blade dug a bit deeper into her skin. "Now, don't move Cyclonis," Aerrow whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her ear, "Don't encourage me to hurt you."
"It seems you like this, Aerrow. Do you always have handcuffs at the ready?" Cyclonis whispered back a little too hungrily.
He ignored her as Piper placed an ebony box upon the desk. "It's locked," she simply said. "Needs some code to open it."
"How did you know it was there?" Cyclonis gasped as the blade dug deeper.
"Amazing how fire exposes our priorities," Piper smirked as she worked on the lock. "No, can't figure out the code."
"Let me go, and I will enter it for you. I promise no ill intent," Cyclonis solemnly assured.
Hesitantly, Aerrow undid the handcuffs and removed the blade from her neck, allowing the Cyclonian captain to walk over to the box. Gently pushing Piper aside, she bent down and spun the dials in place to spell out the code. Cyclonis turned it around to face Aerrow and dug her fingernails underneath the edge, easing it to open.
"Wait," Aerrow ordered her.
He gestured to Piper to come closer, whispered some words in her ear, and she disappeared out of the room. The second she left, men burst through the windows, where glass fragments exploded like crystal fireworks around Cyclonis and Aerrow. The Dark Ace tried to recover from Piper's previous attacks, but a man accidentally landed on top of him.
"Give up the booty, Cyclonis!" a blond man ordered in his accented voice. "I promise no harm."
"Who are you?" Aerrow and Cyclonis shouted in unison, prompting both the captains to glance at each other in confusion.
"I am Harrier of the Rex Guardians, the new leader of the Resistance. The Storm Hawks are useless in achieving their prime objective of protecting the Atmos, so I was elected for the position," he proudly announced as he unsheathed his sabre. It gleamed with a golden blink, newly forged and lacking any damage from battle.
Aerrow gritted his teeth and growled in annoyance, and Cyclonis noted his anger. "You have no right to take that title from the Storm Hawks!" he spat as he brandished Dark Ace's scimitar.
"Oh and who are you to judge?" Harrier condescendingly snorted as he spun the sabre in his hand.
"I am Aerrow, Captain of the Storm Hawks, leader of the Resistance!" he shouted back. "Cyclonis, now!"
She quickly turned the box, her finger immediately lifting the lid, and fired a poison- laced blade into Harrier's chest. Cyclonis grabbed the handcuffs and swung them into another man's face, cracking his skull like an egg, and he fell back roaring in pain. Meanwhile Aerrow swung his weapon at the neck of a burly man who clutched his wound with both hands. The Storm Hawk easily stabbed him in the heart. He then spun and kicked a lanky lad, who awkwardly fumbled with his dagger, and he fell out of the cabin, landing with a satisfying splash in the sea below. Aerrow turned around again, and watched in horror as Cyclonis pointed a blunderbuss at his head. She fired and he cringed, but the bullet tickled the tops of his red locks and flew into the throat of the tall man behind him. He let out a gurgled yell before the blood flooded his entire mouth.
"We make quite the team," Aerrow puffed as he walked closer to Cyclonis, who smiled as he approached. He placed down the scimitar and went to grab the box. She shut the lid again, allowing it to automatically lock, and pushed it towards Aerrow.
"Yes we do."
She leaned forward and hit Aerrow's head with the side of her blunderbuss before his gloved hands touched the ebony structure. His body shrunk in pain and collapsed on top of one of the dead intruders.
"Yes, we most certainly do."
Piper had radioed her crew to sail where the Cyclonian ship was, urging to come quickly and armed. In the distance she spied the familiar cerulean- tinged sails gliding closer to shore where the enemy was anchored.
They came too late.
A man in a crimson uniform held a body that dangled limply in his arms, and threw it overboard into the shallow water without a second glance. With the efficiency of a well- oiled machine, the Cyclonian crew worked the rigging and the sails were immediately taut with the wind. The last shimmer of the ship faded into the horizon before Piper could recognise Aerrow's bloody body wash up onto the shore. Finally, the Storm Hawks drew close enough for anchorage and Junko carried the Captain to his quarters, where Piper tended his wounds and Radarr gave him company.
Outside, after Aerrow's retrieval, the Merb stood on the deck, steering the ship with one hand and tilting his tricorne lower with the other.
"I did warn him," Stork whispered to himself as he sailed the Condor towards the setting sun.
A/N: Well, it's quite difficult to keep the Storm Hawks in character (for me at least). I had to rewatch the cartoon to grasp who they were again. Characterisation is difficult to maintain in an AU considering the characters themselves are faced with different and unfamiliar events than what is shown in the cartoon. Also, I'm a bit rusty in terms of writing, so I'm sorry if I'm telling more than I'm showing. It's hard :)
Also, I know I shouldn't start a new fanfic, considering I have plenty to finish off, but this one is nearly complete. Progress is at 90% or somewhere around that, so this one WILL be a completed multi- chapter story. Hopefully.
I just want to say thank you to Mr War for his idea and I want to acknowledge all the pirate/ nautical stories I've read and watched throughout my life.
Heh, that was like a speech.