Disclaimer: I still own nothing of Transformers: Armada or the characters I'm borrowing, nor am I making any profit off this.

This fic was originally written for Talk Like A Pirate Day two years ago, but I finished it a day late, then forgot to post it on this site the following year. This time, I still have an hour and a half before the day ends here.

I've edited the fic from the original version, but it's quite possible it still shows its age. Either way, all reviews and comments are welcome. Many thanks again to all my reviewers, by the way! (My new resolution is to actually respond to reviews when I get them…)

Any Storm in a Port

"It's not right."

Oceanglide gave his teammate a curious look. It was increasingly rare to hear Stormcloud making pronouncements on the morality of anything. As he recalled, the last occasion had been a vorn or so before they'd gone into hibernation. Naturally, it had been a denouncement of violence towards Stormcloud himself.

To his left, Stormcloud caught his look and gestured in frustration, unable to articulate his problem exactly. "I haven't seen him go this slagging… goofy over anything since… since…"

"The old days," Oceanglide supplied softly, leaning against the doorway. He wondered if Stormcloud realised just how long it was since he'd used the word 'goofy'.

There was another cry from the room beyond, breaking the uncharacteristic silence of the moonbase.

"Arrrrr!"

"Ar?"

"I guess," said Stormcloud, disliking the diagnosis. "And bringing the human stuff into it as well."

"ARRRRR!"

Oceanglide sighed and wandered away from the door. He gave Stormcloud a meaningful glance and the speedboat followed, understanding this was best not overheard. "Has it occurred to you that Waterlog is, in fact, being happy?"

Stormcloud stared at him. "Oceanglide, he's happy all the time. And he never acts like this."

"Cheerful, yes. In a good mood, yes. Utterly relaxed, in his element and, I rather suspect, somewhat drunk… no." The Sea Team's leader raised his hands and shrugged helplessly. "He's simply happy. As he hasn't been in an exceedingly long time. And I might add, it's doing him good."

"Uh." Stormcloud stared some more. "Small detail. He's being happy with an Autobot. That won't do us any good if Megatron finds out."

"Oh, I don't know." Oceanglide turned back to watching in the scene beyond the open door. "Lots of Decepticons have fun with Autobots, quite legitimately."

"Yeah, but the Autobots aren't having fun too."

"He's doing whatever he can to get out of here alive," Oceanglide said. "Somehow, I doubt 'fun' enters into it. In any case, Megatron, along with every other Decepticon over six feet tall, is caught up trying to be inconspicuous in the middle of a place called Bristol. There is no reason for him to know if we are careful."

"Huh." Stormcloud scratched his helmet. "It's still risky."

"It's still worth it," Oceanglide said simply. Maybe it was the certainty in his voice, but Stormcloud didn't try to argue it. They watched and listened for another minute.

"Avast!"

"A vast what?"

"ARRRRRR!"

There was a sound of frantic beeping.

"You know," Stormcloud said wistfully, "he looks like he's having a lot of fun."

Oceanglide said nothing, well aware where this was going.

"Maybe we should join in a bit. Show some support for the crew. That kind of slag."

Oceanglide sighed. Why resist?

"Please?"

Oceanglide shut off his optics for a moment. "On one condition," he said, reactivating them and turning to face his team-mate.

"Yeah?"

I will regret this, I am certain. "Bring me a hat. With a feather in it," he added, for good measure.

"Aye-aye, captain!" Stormcloud nodded eagerly. The amount of noise he made in scampering away, nobody would have guessed he was the covert operations specialist of the team.

But that was enthusiasm for you. It would be more disconcerting, Oceanglide reflected, if they didn't act like that half of the time anyway.

There were steps beside him. Oceanglide turned and arched an optic.

"Are you finished?" he enquired.

"Aye, cap'n," said Waterlog happily. On his shoulder, his unfortunate prisoner struggled to keep his balance. Oceanglide wondered what happened if a pirate's parrot fell off. Were they barred from drinking on the job? Made to sleep in the crow's nest at night?

"And what about you?" he asked Laserbeak. I assume this is what a mortified camera-bird looks like. Curious.

Laserbeak stared at the floor and shuffled slightly. Waterlog prodded him.

"Go on, show the captain," he said, adding quietly, "or by thunder, ye'll be turned over to Megatron faster'n ye can say 'shiver me armour'!"

"Can he say that?" Oceanglide asked.

"He'd best hope so." Waterlog gave the Autobot spy a nasty glare at point-blank range. Not a pleasant sight, as Oceanglide well knew.

Laserbeak fluttered his wings and gave his best impression of a squawk. "Pieces of eight, pieces of eight!"

Oceanglide clapped. "Well done! Who's 'Eight'?"

Waterlog sniggered. " 'Pieces of eight'. Some kind of old human currency. Comes with the parrot thing, y'see. He doesn't squawk so well, though, does he?" he went on, eyeing Laserbeak. The Autobot gave a hasty, vigorous squawk in response. Waterlog laughed and clamped his hand over the camera-bird's back. "It's a rare bit of luck this winged rat came prying."

And lucky that he thought a Minicon would be on his side, Oceanglide thought. They could find out how the Autobot got in later. "Stormcloud and I have decided to join you. He's gone to fetch the rest of our apparel."

Waterlog's optics narrowed for a second in a frown. "Aye?" he asked warily, watching Oceanglide as if he suspected his team-mates were toying with him. Some part of the captain's core twinged with an old sadness.

He kept it sealed far from his expression as he nodded. "He may be some time. For now we shall proceed without him."

"Aye, sir." Waterlog relaxed and saluted.

Oceanglide gave a nod. "Well, then," he said, "let us terrorise the scurvy landlubbers constructing the ship down below."

"Aye! We'll have those mangy curs swabbin' the decks, by Jove!"

"Indeed." Oceanglide paused. "Although we may have to wait until there is a deck in place to swab," he added, mostly to himself. "Would you care to see to the recruitment of a crew?"

"Certainly." Waterlog's visor flickered; he'd have been grinning had he a mouth. "Would there be anything particular ye'd be wantin' 'em for, cap'n?"

"I? No. I was merely thinking of arranging some help for when you keelhaul Ramjet."

"Ah, you know me too well, Oceanglide," chuckled Waterlog, slipping out of formal address for a moment.

"One learns to accept the inevitable, my friend. And where you, Stormcloud and that jet are concerned, the outcome is predictable as the spring tides. Now, go forth and accost innocent mechanisms with your 'parrot' and shouts of 'Yarr!' I'll call you when I want you to help me try on hats."

A/N:

As I said in the note at the end of the first version: Laserbeak will have his revenge. Though by this stage, it's been a long time coming...

Also, as one might gather, Oceanglide is but extremely lightly acquainted with sailing ships and doesn't actually know what a crow's nest is or what it's for. Hence his, ah, slightly flawed inference from its name.