A/N: Set right after Pullings gets the Acheron. Following him until he learns the secret the Frenchmen are hiding from the British…
Tom Pullings climbed down the rope ladder onto the tiny boat waiting to take him to his ship. His ship. The French-made vessel, the Acheron. He was the captain of one of the most advanced, fastest, impressive ships in the seas. Even though the much smaller H.M.S. Surprise had taken her, she was still a special ship. And she was his. He couldn't get over that wonderful thought! After all those hard years serving under "Lucky" Jack, 1st Lieutenant Pullings had a ship of his own. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed serving under Captain Aubrey; it was just amazing to have his dream come true for him. He was on top of the world, and nothing could bring him down.
Even if she probably wouldn't stay under his command for too long, at least he had something for awhile, and she was Jack's prize. Perhaps he would be lucky and be able to keep her. Oh, what a thought… He waved at his former crew as he sailed the short distance to the Acheron. Then, he turned to face his ship. Ah, what a sight she was. Pity she had been under Napoleon's command. At least she wasn't anymore.
As he climbed aboard and stood in front of the French men, he realized how nervous he really was. Would they listen? Of course they would. They had to. He was their new captain, and they would follow his orders. All the men on the decks closest to him saluted respectfully at him. Suddenly, Tom realized his posture was horrible and quickly corrected that error. His face took on a more regal expression. He nodded in return to the Frenchmen's salute. "Go back to work. We are headed to the British Isles to report for orders."
The French sailors looked at him with confusion marking their features. He sighed, realizing most of them probably didn't understand English. He turned to the small amount of men he had taken with him. "Does anyone speak French? We need a translator." There was no answer. "Come on, men. One of you must know the language!"
A small, timid hand was slowly raised into the air. "I do, sir," came a quaky voice.
Tom looked over a few men's head to see a small boy, no older than fifteen. "Come to the front then."
"Yes, sir," said the boy hurriedly, as he rushed to the front. He gave a quick salute to Pullings once he reached him.
"Name?"
"Jonathan Wilson, sir!"
"Very good. You will be my official translator aboard the Acheron. Do you remember what I just said?"
"Yes, sir."
"Please tell the French then, Mr. Wilson, and after that you will accompany me down to see the ship's doctor," said Pullings, adjusting his jacket somewhat self-consciously.
Jonathan nodded, and walked past Tom. Gulping once, he translated what Pullings had said to them. A few looked disgruntled about going to the British Isles, but they had no say in the matter. All of them grudgingly went back to their tasks.
"Come along, Mr. Wilson," said Tom, starting to walk to some stairs leading down to where Jack had told him the surgeon was. After a few steps he realized the boy wasn't behind him. He turned around and addressed him, "Mr. Wilson!"
Jonathan snapped out of his reverie, and quickly ran up behind his commanding officer. Tom gave him a reproachful look before continuing on his way down farther into the ship. The young sailor held on the to hand rails provided for him, since the floor was wet.
"You will stay with me at all times for the remainder of the voyage, do you understand? I speak not a word of French and will need your help. I'm not sure, but I believe the doctor on this ship does speak English. Just in case he doesn't I'll have you along."
"Yes, sir."
Tom Pullings came to the bottom the steps and turned to the right, stepping over a few injured sailors. His companion looked extremely uncomfortable walking over the men, some alive and some dead. Tom found the door he was looking for and walked in. The surgeon looked up, a bit surprised at the intrusion.
"I am the Lieutenant appointed by Captain Aubrey of the H.M.S. Surprise to watch over affairs here. My name is Tom Pullings."
The doctor immediately saluted.
"I am the surgeon of the Acheron, Philippe Auguste. Please to… make your acquaintance," said the young man, in his mid thirties. His voice held a heavy French accent.
Tom nodded and turned to Jonathan. "Your assistance is not needed at the moment. If you will please wait outside until I call for you."
Jonathan saluted. "Yes, sir." Quickly, he left the two men alone.
"How many able bodied sailors were there aboard this ship?" asked Tom, looking around and examining the architecture of the room.
"203 souls, sir," stated the surgeon, watching him carefully.
"How many dead?"
"They aren't all accounted for yet."
"Wounded?"
"Same, sir. Not all accounted for."
Tom nodded, preparing to leave the room. "Thank you. I will be back down if I require anymore assistance."
His hand had just reached the doorknob when he felt a sharp blade across his neck. "I believe, monsieur," said a voice in his ear, "that you will be needing assistance much sooner than you anticipated."
Something hard hit his head, and the 1st Lieutenant of the Surprise was knocked unconscious.
Tom stirred slightly, his head hurting horribly. Groaning, he sat up slowly so he didn't disturb it further. "Dear god… What happened?" he moaned.
"You, my dear friend, were tricked by the Great Napoleon's army," said an arrogantvoice.
Pullings eyes opened slowly, to reveal the surgeon in a captain's uniform he had talked to earlier standing behind bars. Or was it he who was behind the bars?
"But…" began Tom, but not being able to find any words to say.
"But what, monsieur? You were captured along with the few men you brought along, plain and simple."
"How…?"
"The Acheron's surgeon died a few months ago due to fever, not her captain. As a matter of fact, you have the great honor to be in the presence of her captain." Smirking with such arrogance, enough to make Tom sick, the captain continued, "I did not lie in saying my name is Philippe Auguste, but you and your captain were fools to believe the French were to surrender so easily."
"My men?"
"Are in the cell next to you…"
"You know you won't get away with this for long. The Surprise will be coming for us at any time."
The French captain chuckled. "We will see…" He began to walk off. "We will see…"
A/N: How did you like? Sorry if I got a few small facts wrong, etc. You can correct me if you feel the need to. I might continue if I get a few people to ask me to, and if I can think of more to write. Otherwise, this is going to stay a one-shot.
The End… or is it? (Sorry, couldn't resist!)
