The young pirate slowly, apprehensively approached the Armada soldiers blocking her path.
She drew her sword, her hands trembling as she neared the clockwork men. Their emotionless gazes fixed on her. With military precision, they jumped into formation as the pirate's crew joined her.
Trying to keep her voice steady, she called out her orders to the crew.
Kobe, move up!
Ratbeard, fall back!
Barnabus, attack the one on the right!
Four against four, it should have been even.
But the Armada soldiers were stronger, had more training and better weapons.
They lacked the ability to empathize with their opponents, knew only to attack and to win.
The young pirate could only watch as, one by one, her crew was struck down in three rounds.
First Barnabus, the hefty sloth making a sickening thud against the floor as he fell.
Then Ratbeard, clutching his heart and teetering backwards, his long, skinny tail stiffened from pain.
And then Kobe, her first mate.
Her eyes locked on his face, his own large brown eyes filled with pain.
"I have failed you, Captain…" the Samoorai whispered, reaching towards her as he fell forward with a grunt.
The young pirate ignored the ache in her chest as she watched her best friend fall, whirled around to face the four Armada soldiers still standing. Found herself looking down the barrel of a gun.
"Say good night, Child." The soldier in front of her said tonelessly, his finger teasing the trigger.
.
Captain Emma Silver's eyes shot open. With a loud shout, the twenty-year old Buccaneer sat up in her hammock, clutching the threadbare blanket that had been laid over her in the night.
Tears spilled from her dark brown eyes.
"Captain?" a deep voice called from outside. Her door cracked open. Kobe poked his head in, his fierce eyes full of concern. "Are you alright?"
"Aye." Emma muttered, angrily brushing away her tears. "Just a bit of a nightmare."
Kobe opened the door a bit wider, letting in the moonlight from outside. Emma squinted, shielding her eyes. She could hear the laughing and shouting coming from the tavern up the way, where the rest of her crew slept. Except, it seemed, for Kobe.
He stepped inside, easing the door shut behind him. In the dark, she could just make out the outline of his bulky form, see the folds of his deep purple kimono, his katana swinging at his waist.
He lit the candles on her desk, knelt beside her hammock.
"Would you like to talk about it, Captain?" he asked softly, carefully running his thumb along her cheek to banish the stray tears. "Was it the Armada again?"
"It's always the Armada, Kobe."
She leaned against his chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her. He slid his arm around her, tightly holding her closer.
"The recent battle?"
She nodded, the cool satin of his kimono already calming her.
"I've never been defeated so easily." She whispered. "Every defense I had, they destroyed. They were miles ahead of me. You were all injured so badly…"
"Shhh, shhh…" He lightly stroked her hair. "The Armada is a tricky foe. You've done well against them before. It is simply the will of the Spiral that you lose once after winning many."
She couldn't help but crack a smile at that. Kobe and his "will of the Spiral talk" never failed to cheer her up. As though she was never at fault for her mistakes…it was just what was supposed to happen.
"You are a wonderful Captain." He continued. "And I know I speak for the whole crew when I saw that it is an honor to fight alongside you."
"Oh, Kobe." she reached up, stroking his silky muzzle.
His eyes fluttered closed, a peaceful smile dancing on his lips. His ears flicked slightly towards the sounds of camaraderie outside but, for the most part, he seemed…serene.
He stayed with her until she fell back to sleep, singing softly under his breath in that strange language from MooShu.
Once she was slumbering peacefully, he pressed a soft, impossibly gentle kiss to her lips before slipping away.
"Good night, my Captain."
The next morning, Emma woke up bright and early, feeling rejuvenated and calm. She swept her long, black hair back into a ponytail and made a face at herself in the dingy mirror on her wall. She'd always had sort of a ruddy complexion, and a mean expression on her face. It wasn't intentional, just how she always looked, but it was quite effective in combat.
She traded her long white nightshirt for a pair of tough brown canvas trousers and a baggy white shirt she'd picked up from a Marleybone ship. She pulled on the black leather boots she'd always been proud of and plopped her hat upon her head. Carefully, she took her sword from her desk and secured it to her waist.
Fully ready to greet the day, she stepped out of her quarters into the hustle and bustle of Skull Island.