To Plunder a Heart
The ship tossed about the waves, if you could even call it a ship anymore. It had been devastated, massive hull breaches along the starboard side causing it to fill with water. Most of the crew had been killed or captured, Commander Bumi of the United Forces one of the only survivors. The drifting hulk began to sink to its watery tomb, bringing down any and all that were inside dead or alive. The Commander had been knocked unconscious by a straw piece of wood blown toward him by a cannon ball which struck him in the head, leaving a gash.
The wreck groaned with dissent as it broke apart, the Commander slid off the deck to float on the waves. His foe saw the man, and for some reason took pity. Such a worthy adversary he had been for all these years… It was a waste of a good sailor to leave him for Davy Jones to claim. A small boat was plunged into the water, the captain himself leading a few deck hands to the floating man. He was hoisted aboard, not regaining consciousness. The dingy was rigged up and brought back to deck level, the captain ordering the old enemy to be treated with care.
Weeks passed and yet Bumi had still not regained consciousness, the physician aboard explaining that there was a chance he never would. Even so, the captain continued to wait for those lightning blue eyes to open. Finally during a cold night in the northern waters near the ice cap, those eyes snapped open with a scream. The captain awoke in the chair next to Bumi, leaning forward – his swords and pistols clanging together with trinkets from his victories.
"Greetings, old friend…" the gravelly voice spoke. Bumi's eyes narrowed, reaching to draw weapons no longer on his person. "Now is that any way to treat someone that saved your life?"
Bumi's brows furrowed, trying to contemplate what had just been said. He opened his mouth to speak, the weeks without use making it difficult at first.
"Here, drink. No, it isn't poison… If I wanted you dead I'd have let the sea claim you."
Bumi took the glass of water, suspicious, but found the logic sound. The Commander was still youthful, only 29 years old. Then again, for a sailor, 29 was an old man. He attempted to speak once again, "Captain Amon… Why?" The rest of the question was obvious.
"Why…? Why indeed. You're a smart lad, figure it out." the graying captain tapped his finger on his flintlock's flash pan, his ring clicking against the metal each time. Bumi sat up, the blankets over him sliding down to his waist.
"I was the only one to get as close to killing you." Bumi said matter-of-factly. He smiled slightly, looking down to see the peg leg that replaced the part of the limb his sword had cleaved off two years before.
"Funny that your attempt at ending my life is the only reason I decided to spare yours…" The captain laughed heartily, it was ominous in all senses of the word. Foreboding. He finally stood, the chair creaking at the dispersing weight. "I spared you to provide you with a choice. I assume you figured out by now what that choice is." Amon drew his pistol, the gold inlay on the deep iron striking with the way the light hit it. He cocked the hammer back before aiming it at Bumi's head. "So choose."
Bumi took a deep breath, "Do it." he commanded. He closed his eyes, thinking of home – having nothing else he'd prefer to be his last thoughts than his home and family. There was a click, but he didn't move. When he realized his head didn't have an extra hole in it, he opened his eyes and glared at his nemesis.
"And that's why I knew I was right in sparing you. You have rare traits. Loyalty. Respect. Honor. Welcome aboard." the pistol was placed back in his belt as his rough hand was extended as a gesture of peace. Bumi knew he still couldn't escape even if he wanted, and reluctantly, he signed himself over to the one person he had been hunting since he gained his own ship to command. "Mr. Tomlinson! Give the order!" he called out of the room.
Beyond the room on the deck the call was given, "Weigh anchor! Every last scrap of duck on the wind!" Soon the boat launched away, sailing into the life Bumi had sworn to fight.
Seven Years Later
Bumi, or as the world knew him – 'The Commander' – wrought havoc along the coast of every main nation worth pillaging. Three years before, the famed Captain Amon had perished in an assault, run through by a United Forces blade. He had been swiftly avenged, the perpetrator's head relieved from his body by Amon's protégé, none other than the one who had but a few years before been hoping to do exactly that. He hadn't even had a pang of remorse when he struck down members of his former allegiance; he had left that life behind.
The nations all had placed bounties on his head, the grand total of which nearly triple the amount that had been on Captain Amon's. The holder of that bounty had been struck down, and as far as anyone in the world knew Captain Amon still sailed the seas or had retired with a vast fortune. The crew of his ship, The Painted Lady, had sworn service to Bumi. For the first couple years he was on board, he was treated worse than any captive they had – when out of sight of the captain, that is. But, over the years, he had won them over. His courage in battle as well as his former prowess led him to be gifted a ship to sail side-by-side with The Painted Lady. It was known formerly as HMS Bosco – named for some creature favored by the king of the nation the ship bore the colors of. Bumi renamed it, after an old sailor legend, The Unagi.
Commander Bumi's past was shaded in mystery and myth after he succeeded Amon. Some knew the truth, but they were always thought to be making up their tales of a once noble commander turning renegade. Still others spun webs based on the truth, that he was Amon's son – the few that saw his age up close and lived knew it was a possibility – who had gone into service before returning to his father. The final and most popular theory was that he was a sailing legend, raised on the sea by none other than the sea herself. It was said he made his first vessel at the age of five out of human hair and sea turtles, besting anyone in a naval match. He had fought the great Captain Amon and after four long days and nights of continuous battle the great sailors shook hands in a truce, agreeing to combine forces to plunder the world.
The Commander's true name wasn't known, any of his crew had never asked. The only ones that ever knew it had assumed he was lost at sea or at best marooned. His father and brother had also entered into service, his father a legend of his own right. His brother, not so much. The line of Arrow. Bumi never investigated finding his family, knowing he'd be shunned for the life he had to take in order to survive. His brother had followed his brother's footsteps, vowing to slay Captain Amon if it was the last thing he did.
Of course, that never happened for Tenzin. He had ascended to the first mate of a prestigious ship. The captain of this vessel had been assigned with taking down 'The Commander' as her first priority. Often times ignoring ships in distress and in need of aid in preference to her mission, Lin Beifong was known to be one of the hardest sailors to have ever existed. She had a zero tolerance policy for people on her crew. The brig of the ship was occupied nightly by someone or other. And despite the rumors, she refused to allow relationships to bud between herself and anyone in the service.
At now 36, Commander Bumi, as he still had his crew refer to him after receiving his own command once again, had amassed a treasure trove that rivaled any other. All the fortunes gathered by Captain Amon had passed to him, as had been the captain's wish before he passed. Bumi distributed it among his crewmen, saving only specific items for his own captain's share. But after all those years of gathering precious metals and gems and even ships themselves, he never grew less hungry. Hungry not for the prizes, but for the game itself.
It had been several months since Captain Beifong had last spotted The Painted Lady and The Unagi – Bumi had passed command of his ship to the only person besides Amon to befriend him, now known as Iroh the Despoiler (A stupid name gained in a dice game, but it had stuck ever since). Bumi took command of his former master's ship, flying the old colors as well as his own side-by-side. It was this which made him unique; most other pirate captains would sooner kill their teacher than fly their colors together. He stuck out when leaving the wreckage of a vanquished foe, his red striped sails and twin flags letting all know it was 'The Commander' who had had victory there.
"Mr. Arrow!" Captain Beifong called, the subordinate stepping up to the helm when she stepped off, extending her spyglass to view her rival depart into the mist. "Hard to starboard!" she ordered, the command repeated by Mr. Arrow and then the subordinates under him. The wheel turned in his grip as the ship came about. "Let the mains free!" the next order, repeated as the last. The ship, HMS Winged Boar, lurched forward as it began to press through the still burning wreckage. All about, bodies floated in the water. It was clear there would be no survivors to find. "Loose the royals, tops. Let them all go." The remaining sails were let go, some of the crew unsure about gathering such speed through a fresh kill. Wood and cloth bashed off the ram of the ship as it sliced through the waves, the majority of the ship had apparently sunk.
They could vaguely see the shadow of their prey as it made off with men and goods from the attack. "Captain, shall I give the order to the crew for general quarters?" Mr. Arrow asked, unsure of the captain's plan. She turned, the fires of the wreck reflecting in her green irises.
"Silently. If they knew we were here they'd have turned to fight. No use giving away the element of surprise." She walked over, Mr. Arrow immediately relinquishing the helm to tell the crew to prepare for battle. The shadow in front of them continued on, and she nodded to her crew. "Mortars at the ready. 400 meters." The crew sighted to her command, looking to her for the signal. "Fire!" The resonating crescendo of explosions sounded as the four mortars released the payload into the sky to come crashing down ahead.
In the fog there was no response of similar action by the other captain, no mortar fire returned. Her eyes narrowed, until she heard the whistle off the port bow. "Brace for-!" she was cut off as the ship was rammed, the other vessel armed to the teeth. Forward cannons unloaded into the side of the ship point blank, the sound of splintering wood and dying men coming from below deck. The mythical figurehead of a snarling serpent was at the edge of her ship, she had been deceived into following the other ship without watching for both.
The ramming caused men to be tossed aside like ragdolls, three falling overboard only to be run over by their own ship – pushed beneath the waves to their doom. Lin drew her sword from its scabbard as well as her flintlock, waving a rally call to her crew that could see her. Two forward deck guns from The Unagi unleashed a salvo into the main mast of her ship, snapping it in half with expert precision. She would be stranded, it was time for her to fight or die. Hooks from the stern of the attacking ship sailed over, hooking hers and dragging the ships to be flush side by side.
None of her crew had known their target was as large as it was, not a man o' war, but larger than a standard frigate. The windows on the side lifted briefly, dark circles behind soon showing bright yellow as a full broadside was loosed. Her eyes widened just as she hit the deck, much of the crew trying to do the same but being too slow. She felt a weight press onto her and turned to see Mr. Arrow. "Come on, you useless filth! Get up and-" the words died in her throat as she saw the look he had on his face. She finally saw the blood at the edge of his mouth.
Lin sat up, turning him over and off of her to see the gaping hole where his chest had been. He had taken a direct hit from the broadside, hadn't stood a snowball's chance in hell. A yell was heard as ropes flew over her deck, men at the end like counterweights on a clock. They dropped to the deck pistols firing into the stunned crew. She stood and charged, the last of her surviving crew following her example. They fought valiantly, until a man with a flowing red overcoat whistled for a halt. The attackers ceased pressing forward, only defending against blows instead of making any of their own.
Twin blades were drawn, red not with blood but naturally that color. He spun them in his hands as he approached the captain of the wounded vessel. She came at him, throwing expert blows to throw him off balance. While they fought, she scored a hit on his bicep, causing his left sword to slip out of his grasp. She smiled and kicked it away, but one of his men snatched it up before it could slide off into the water.
Lin feigned high but attacked low, a sweeping kick taking his legs out from under him. On his back he still fought, blocking her blows. She raised her pistol to finish it, but when the hammer slammed forward it misfired, useless. His own pistol was on her, firing true into her. Unbelievably, it went wide and simply grazed her. She winced with pain but pressed on, her sword coming down about to end it before she fell to the floor. Behind her, a tall man with marvelous fashion sense held a pistol with gold inlay in a reverse grip, the pommel having connected with the back of her head and knocking her out.