Disclaimer: No, I don't own Cinder or any of its character. Marissa Meyer, who is awesome, does.
This fanfic focuses on Captain Thorne while the other fanfic (The War of the Captains: Captain Hook) stars Captain Hook. Different POVs. I put them in separate stories, because I'm entering Captain Hook into a fanfic contest.
Yes, Captain Hook refers to the Hook from Peter Pan. Captain Thorne will technically be Peter Pan. The Crocodile is Admiral Anyang Julo (character I made up).
Part 1.
Carswell Thorne narrows his blue eyes at the list of potential recruits.
After stealing the Rampion from the American Republic military, the ship has become his and only his. But he needs a crew to run his beloved ship and help him on his job. His egotistical and less handsome competitor, "Captain" Hook, nicked Princess Diana's sapphire ring by 4.3 minutes. Thorne was held back by the dimwitted Po twins in Buckingham Palace. As rude and daft Hook may be, he does have a loyal but also ugly crew.
"Wilton Milton!" shouts Thorne, his voice louder than the bar's excessive chattering. "Wilton Milton, potential crew member for my ship!"
Wilton Milton, a strange little man possessing curious amber eyes, saunders over to Thorne's table. He sits across from him, his shortness even more apparent. His greasy black hair is in a dire need of shampoo and conditioner. "Aye, boss?"
Captain Thorne grins. Boss, he likes the sound of that. "What can you do?"
Twiddling his thumbs nervously, Milton replies, "I can fit into small spaces, Captain. I have good fingers too, sire. Thief's hands."
Thorne taps his chin, liking Milton instantly. "What do you think of Hook? He stole Princess Diana's ring among other…" He shakes his head in disgust. "...other conquests…"
Smiling, Milton answers, "We can do better than that, sire."
"I like you," drawls Thorne. His grin even grows wider.
With the backing of crew, Captain Thorne has a lighter workload. The first mate is Wilton Milton. Thorne also hired "Goode" Cook, "Punchy" Steele, Guerrero, Fox, and "Cross-Eyed" Cobb. Their first theft together was of a silver bracelet once belonging to a Russian princess. Half of 30,000 univs went to the crew, and the other half went to the Rampion's repairs.
Celebrating the job, Thorne and the crew drank to themselves and to the bracelet. A good catch. Hook's move, now.
Hook, a dark-haired Italian man, is tall and burly with a menacing beard. He struts up to Thorne, once Thorne's crew has left him for their own amusements. Hook pounds his drink on the table, roaring with laughter. "You'll never catch up to me, Thorne!"
Thorne roguishly winks at his waitress, who blushes and giggles. "Haven't you heard? Princess Anastasia's bracelet was stolen two hours ago."
Hook's laughter dies.
Hook glares darkly at Captain Thorne. Everyone knows Hook has his eye on Princess Anastasia's bracelet for the last six months. No one but Thorne dares to cross Hook in the galaxy. All knows of Hook's filthy temper and mean left fist.
"You're an idiot," sneers Hook.
"For what reason?" innocently replies Thorne, sipping his drink casually. He reaches for a napkin, but Hook's right hand—actually, a hook—nearly impales Thorne's wrist to the table. He holds Thorne down.
"Don't"—Hook grits, his white teeth baring—"you"—he glares at the younger captain—"mess"—he hisses—"with me"—then he adds, almost as if the word is an afterthought—"boy."
Thorne shivers, but he continues smiling coolly. "Well, it is Captain Carswell Thorne. Thorne. Captain. Or Captain Thorne."
Hook narrows his eyes, his hook raised to Thorne's chin. "One more word out of your mouth, and the ladies won't find you so pretty anymore."
Then Hook, in his dark jacket and black slacks, turns around and strolls away. He disappears into the crowd with a flourish.
Thorne raises his brown eyebrow. Thinking thoughtfully of his conversation with Hook, he mutters, "I wonder if I would look that stupid in a duster."
He imagines it.
"Nah," he concludes. "I'll look good."
Four months with Rampion. Three months with a crew. By now, the underground world knows of the legendary rivalry between the two captains. Captain Hook and Captain Thorne snark insults and concealed threats at each other under their breath. Truthfully, only Captain Hook makes concealed and rather vocal threats. Thorne, according to the words of Captain Hook, chooses "to let his idiocy and stupidity rule his life."
The two ships fight over nearly everything. Money, jewelry, bargains, alliances, and more. News spread of Hook gaining a second spaceship.
Thorne frowns at the news. He moans, "What should I do, Milton? Hook is vying for a fleet of spaceships."
"The Crocodile," answers Milton, sipping his flask. He offers it to Thorne, who thumps his head back in the captain's chair. The Rampion is steadily making its way to New Beijing.
Thorne turns to Milton, his bright eyes gleaming once more. "The Crocodile? The legendary Crocodile? The Admiral directly underneath Prime Minister Kamin?"
The Crocodile is Admiral Anyang Julo. Everyone of the crime world knows of Admiral Anyang Julo. Thirty-six years old, she hails from African Union. She is one of the deadliest military officers in the entire universe. Captain Hook is one of the few she never captured.
"Tick, tock." Milton winks.
"Tick, tock," repeats Thorne, smiling. He watches his beloved ship's computer systems. 12.3 hours before landing in New Beijing. "Hook, your time runs out."
Then he turns back to Milton. "How should we do this?"
"You're the captain," points out the first mate.
The Crocodile will arrest him on sight, if he approaches her. Thorne muses, trying to come up with a brilliant plan and failing to create a worthy one. Fireworks, explosions, a beautiful girl. Now, those elements will be excellent parts of the big plan, but Thorne knows Hook hates explosions and fireworks. He prefers sneakiness, silence, and the cover of night.
A beautiful girl? Perhaps one that will seduce Hook?
Hook would rather kiss the Crocodile than fall in love.
"Anything, sire?"
"Nothing," mutters Thorne.
He then lights up. Bait! Bait, that is it.
With a newfound skeleton of the big plan, Thorne creates the perfect plan. He isn't that far off, he realizes. Fireworks. Explosions.
And the beautiful girl will hold the entire plan together. She can make Thorne fail or succeed. She is the wild card.
"Ready?" Thorne whispers to his first mate.
He nods. "I'm ready."
The rest of the crew confirms their station.
He watches the sparkling building from the distance. Inside the bank, in the hidden vault below the basement, a beautiful gem called the Ashberg Diamond rests in Box 143b. The security measures are strong and nearly impossible to penetrate. Few have seen the diamond before, and no thief is foolish enough to steal it.
Until now.
Good thing everyone considers Thorne an idiot.