Haytham had heard that the Aquila had almost sunk almost ten years ago. It was a pity, as he had enjoyed fighting with and sparring against the crew – the first mate Faulkner in particular was incredibly fun, as unlike the captain, he didn't have a stick up his arse when dealing with pirates such as himself. He had followed in his father's footsteps – and he made sure not to target innocents as the promise he had made his father when he had been ten… A few days before the other's death was one of the few things that he clung to.
Several of his father's old crew had been in London, searching for their captain, to see how the old sea dog had been doing with his feet so firmly set on land… They found Haytham shaking, covered in blood and shaking as he desperately gripped a sword too long and heavy for him to properly wield as he fended off those who had killed his father. The former crewmembers attacked without mercy, saving his sister from their grubby paws.
When his mother had rejected him for killing to defend them, the rest of Edward's crew took him on board the Jackdaw. They sent his sister to a friend of his father's – a man by the name of Adewale. He knew well of the war that his sister was embroiled in because of that – after all the arsehole with pointed ears was his sister's former intended – one Reginald Birch (who had been killed by Jameson as the bastard had intended to sell her into slavery) was a Templar Grandmaster. Not that his father had known, and had viewed the conniving snake as a friend, unknowing of the other's treacherous nature.
He aided the Assassins so long as the money was good and they didn't try to talk him into joining their high-handed order. After all, it was not the Brotherhood who had come to his and his family's rescue. It had been his father's pirate crew. As of late, there were no Assassin-aligned ships, and there were far more Templar ships… But he had made sure not to directly oppose the Templars too much, and found that so long as you did not go after their ships too often, the Templars in the colonies at least, did not go after him.
Haytham was curious as to who had found the shattered wreck of the Aquila (and the no doubt completely sloshed first mate) and decided to fix her up. Given the fact that the Aquila had a fearsome if fair reputation, it did make sense for an enterprising captain – particularly if She was the captain's first vessel – to make use of Her reputation. Haytham made inquiries in the smaller northern port towns, as if Faulkner was still the First Mate, he would have this new captain stick close to that area, while testing the other to see if they were worthy of his beloved ship.
It was a cold and windy morning three weeks later when Haytham finally tracked down The Aquila. The smaller ship was fighting against several British vessels – and doing fairly well, despite having the wind against them and each of the ships twice the size of the mercenary vessel. With a crooked grin Haytham ordered his crew to ready themselves as they sailed towards the vessels. He shot at the closest of the lobster-back ships with his front-mounted cannons.
By the time that the British ship was able to start firing on the Jackdaw with any sort of accuracy, black smoke billowed from the deck. The sails of the soon to be sunk ship were burning to nothing but ash as the unfortunate vessel shuddered to an almost complete halt, except for the slight movement that the swell of the rolling ocean provided them.
Haytham would be delighted to split whatever goods were on the ships evenly with the mercenary vessel – as this new captain had stopped the second vessels in Its' tracks at the same time that Haytham's crew stilled the first. Between the two of them, the third British ship – which had begun to try and flee, not even attempting to fire back in a very tragic stab at getting free – was unable to move as well.
As his Jackdaw drew abreast of the closest of the trio of British ships, Haytham used his aft puckle gun to pick off enough of the crew to prove the point that if they did not surrender unconditionally, they would all die. He was briefly tempted to kill a couple more of them, just to drive the point in that trying to resist him would end in only death, but Haytham resisted the temptation. These yellow-bellied cowards shivered violently as he swaggered onto the vessel as their eyes widened in fearful recognition. He would make sure to watch them carefully - if any of these cowards wished to join his crew. The rest would be set off in long boats towards shore. Stripped of weapons and anything useful, including coin of course. He was feeling generous, which was why those who would not join his crew would not drown with the ship, as he had left those who would not join him to die on the open sea.
The British captain - a bearded fellow with narrow, terrified eyes and trembling hands that whilst bound, still betrayed the other's utter distress. A sharp smirk curled on Haytham's face as he spotted a silver cross that marked the other as a Templar… "Well, well. I wonder what an English Templar like you is doing so far from home, hmm? If you are lucky, I'll gut you now, and be done with it. But The Aquila is an Assassin ship - she always has been, and likely always will be. I am certain that they will be delighted to get their hands on you."
"Why did you attack us in the first place? You are no Assassin – you are far too pragmatic for their blindly idealistic drivel, Kenway. Although you do fit their chaotic destructiveness to the letter. It is a pity you will not join us, that mind of yours could be put to so much good… And yet all you do is cause discord and pain to everyone who you think opposes you… Why?" The captain spat angrily, trying to focus on his irritation, rather than the fact that the captain of the Eagle of the Caribbean was on his ship, sword in hand.
"I go after slave ships, as slavery is an ugly practice and I will not allow it to flourish in any way that I can. So yes, I do cause much pain to those who trade in other living beings, and try to make sure that those who were kidnapped from their homelands are safely returned to where they are happiest – and if some find that they like sailing on the sea, either with me or turning what was once their prison into the vessel of their freedom, I will not stop them. I also go after merchant ships who transport goods that are made cheaper through the use of slave labor, or who use slaves in an attempt to cut down on costs, or some other such nonsense." Haytham sneered back, looking down in disgust at this pathetic creature before him.
"If you want to stop slavery, why then do you stay on the seas, rather than coming ashore and attempting to influence those in power? Attacking Slave ships and saving those who have yet to be sold is a start, but do you really think that being so bloody about it will be useful at all in the long run? You have a sharp mind, Kenway. The Order I serve would welcome you." Biddle answered, raising an eyebrow a little in surprise. They had thought that Kenway went after Slave ships because they were usually guarded by several smaller but better armed ships that he could destroy and then raid for supplies and a few crewmen, before taking the slaves and then selling them himself. But this apparent streak of nobility was something that the Templar Order could use… If he was able to live past this encounter and get free of the young, upstart Assassin mentor, whose ship was fast upon them. "Come now, do you really think that throwing your lot in with the Assassins would do you any good? We've all but destroyed them here in the colonies, and though a few have come again – like ivy they are – they will be crushed soon enough as they are low in numbers and scant on resources."
Haytham snorted a little at that "I care not for the Assassins' Brotherhood, but they at least, will leave me alone, so long as I do not go after them or theirs. You Templars on the other hand… You seem to think that because you think yourselves more knowledgeable in the ways of the world that you should impose your will and view on the world on the rest of us. You lot have been getting more and more pushy as of late – and without Cormac and his fleet here in the colonies – I am not surprised he left your high and mighty bunch of idiots – there is not a one of you who can stop me." A vicious little smirk appeared on his face as his blue eyes glittered… No… They shone with an otherworldly gold. The same color as Cormac's had… and a handful of infamous Assassins before them – Haytham Kenway's father being one of that number.
Before Biddle could respond to that, The Aquila boarded the other side of the British – or was it a Patriot ship? She had been flying British colors, and surrounded by British ships as far as Haytham could tell. Not that he particularly cared what was going on, on the land so long as the landlubbers did not try to impose their rules where they were neither wanted nor particularly well-followed. A tall (and handsome) young man in a striking blue uniform moved towards the two of them. From the feathers and braids in the other's hair and the beading on the armbands that the other captain wore (and from how the other spoke to the crew of the Aquila who swung over with him, he was in a position of power and Faulkner for some reason would never be more than the first mate to the fast ship) he was Mohawk… Or rather half, given his more-fair features.
"Are you the current captain of the Jackdaw?" the Aquila's captain asked, voice surprisingly soft and melodious as he approached Haytham cautiously.
"Yes, I am. And you are-?" The infamous pirate captain asked politely, a small smile appearing on his face. He still kept one of his pistols trained on Biddle, not trusting the mouthy Templar not to try anything, despite the fact that the ship he was on was only barely just staying afloat.
"You may call me Connor. I am the captain of The Aquila." Connor answered truthfully, looking over the pirate more closely, seeming to be a bit surprised by something.
Haytham was briefly reminded of someone who had had known for a few months, years and years ago. A fierce and proud Mohawk woman, whose full name he had never quite been able to properly pronounce - not that he had not tried to practice in private, whispering the individual syllables to himself, trying to get his stubborn tongue to cooperate. She had caught him at it once, and demanded to know what he had been doing. Sheepishly he told her that he had been trying to practice saying her full name, as it seemed rude not to at least try, as it was beautiful and fitting for one as lovely as she was. Ziio had laughed a little and smiled up at him at that before kissing him full on the lips. He had never been more delightedly surprised in his life.
The couple of months she had deigned to stay on his ship were some of the happiest he had ever had. When he had found a port city close to where she said her people lived, she had left, and taken a piece of his heart with her. He had wanted to go with her but Ziio had shook her head and pointed out that his first love was the sea, and taking him from his home was not something she had wanted to do. He had tried to stay in contact with her, but did not want to draw potential Colonial – or Templar or Assassin for that matter as the latter two were irritatingly persistent on trying to recruit him – to Ziio or her village. There was something of her face in Connor's – as well as the freckles on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. "A pleasure to meet you, Connor. You are an Assassin, yes? Have you been trying to catch this particular Templar, or is it a happy accident?" It never failed to entertain him how those directly involved in the ancient and seemingly undying war reacted to the fact that a lowly pirate captain knew of who and what they were as well as what they professed to want.
To his credit, Connor's eyes only widened briefly, and focused on the bracers on his wrist – Haytham's father's actually. Another gift that his father's crew had found and given to him. Connor refocused, clearing his throat and said "I have been hunting him for the past few months. I would prefer that you not kill him, at least until I have interrogated him."
"He's all yours, lad. One of the reasons I was keeping him alive was that I figured that you might want to have a chat with him. Oh, and I am no Assassin, but I dislike the way that the Templars try to meddle in everyone's affairs." Haytham answered easily, stepping away from Biddle and subtly gesturing for Connor to do as he wished with Biddle.
"Thank you for keeping him alive." Connor responded with a small nod, moving gracefully towards the hapless Templar, mentally choosing his words with care as he deliberately loomed over the captive. "Answer me truthfully and I will let you live. Where is Charles Lee?"
"Why should I tell you anything? And it's likely that you will just leave me in his hands, and I doubt that that pirate asshole will leave me alive. He's a vindictive bastard and I've gone after his ship once or twice before and he holds grudges like no one I've ever met." Biddle bit out, using angry bravado to cover his mounting fear. The young Assassin leader was surprisingly gentle with his Templar captives but… Kenway was a vicious bastard with a grudge against the Templar Order that no one could fathom. Not that the wily bastard was fond of the Brotherhood, which was a small saving grace.
Connor glanced at Haytham – the striking pirate captain smirking lazily at the Templar and his remaining crew, flipping a dagger in one hand in a casual display of skill that was quite impressive, given the fact that he threw the blade so that it twirled hilt over blade several times, catching the hilt of the knife as it spun end over end, the double-edged blade razor sharp. "Would you kill him if I let him go?"
Haytham shrugged "That entirely depended on whether or not he would try to go after me and mine again. If you would like to keep an enemy alive to try and stab you in the back, it's a foolish thing to do, but perhaps he might prove more useful if you want to try and follow this particular rat back to his nest, to find and catch more of them." He usually killed persistent annoyances like Biddle, but if they did stop, he was not particularly set on killing them. Death dealing was a skill that he was very good at, but not one he enjoyed using.
The young Assassin blinked at him a couple of times, watching Haytham with an expression that the pirate captain was unable to decipher. "I try not to kill unless it is necessary, but he has been particularly persistent as well as dishonest in his dealings with the Patriots in a way that is aggravating."
"Is there a reason why you support the Patriots, Captain Connor? Or is it more that you are against the British, and that by aiding the Patriots, you are hoping that you will be able to influence them if they manage to break away from the British Empire? To my knowledge, breaking from an empire has been tried several times, but it has not been successful. Between the differences in resources and manpower, the occasional time that a colony had managed to break away from an empire for a time… The people ended up in such dire financial straits that when one of the empires – either the one they had fought or another Empire declared war on them on one pretext or another… They were retaken." Haytham mused, looking speculatively at Connor, a thought occurring to him that he wished did not distract him as it did. He knew the odds of this Assassin being his son were fairly low… But still, he wanted to find out. "The major European Empires are clashing with one another in a number of lands, and the English Colonies of America is far from Britain, which slows the British supply lines, even if they had a certain way to get the food, men and arms from there to here without having to roll the dice on whether or not the seas and gods will be kind enough to allow the ships to cross the Atlantic in one piece it would be difficult to keep the men in fully fighting readiness over the weeks it takes to get here from there on the limited space on the ships."
Connor studied Haytham for a short time before responding "I would prefer not to speak of this while there are Templars present. I am curious as to why you are interested in knowing my answer, if you are neutral?"
"I hate Templars – they killed my father, tried to sell my older sister into slavery and drove my mother to near madness. My father had been an Assassin, but because he had been a pirate first, they did not think him important enough to warn that the Templars were going to attack us, and neither did they bother trying to help us as we tried to stop them from shattering our lives. I have no love for the British Empire, but I dislike how the Patriots are being lead." Haytham responded honestly, with a small shrug. Still, a subtle and well buried anger still smoldered in his eyes a little as he spoke of why he tried his damndest to stay free of that stupid, blasted war. "If you want a few pointers on how to get a man to crack under interrogation, I would be delighted to show you. However it will get messy and bloody."
"I would wish to avoid using torture if I did not have to." Connor answered, a small frown appeared on his face as he debated internally as to what to do with Biddle, now that he had him captured with some timely if not entirely necessary assistance from a pirate captain that he had never had contact with before… But, if Connor's guess about who captain Haytham was… the pirate might be Connor's unaware father. He certainly matched his mother's description of his father – and Connor could also tell why his mother could have fallen in love with him. He was fierce, intelligent and moral in his own way. He could have been a great Assassin. The native restrained from pointing out that it had been a different part of the brotherhood that had so unjustly abandoned Haytham's family, and that things were being run differently in the English colonies. It was unlikely that the pirate captain would take well to proselytizing. Connor leaned over Biddle in a deliberately imposing manner as he continued "But I will use such force if it is necessary."
The captive Templar swallowed nervously, eyes darting around the deck. His crew was either dead or captured and bound, and he was trapped between a ruthless but neutral pirate captain and a Master Assassin. His best bet was to try and play on the pirate's desire for neutrality. "You attacked my ship, and I doubt that you will kill every single member of my crew – you need people to sail this ship, and as the continental congress has paid rather a lot to keep it in good repair, as well as to commission this ship in the first place, it is unlikely that the Assassin will want it sunk, as it will spite his allies of convenience. My crew is loyal to me, and some are also loyal to the Templar Order as well, and they will tell our brothers in arms about what you have done. You claim to be neutral, but have attacked a ship sailed by a Templar captain for no other reason than because she was attacking an Assassin-aligned ship. That is tantamount to claiming to be sided with the Brotherhood. But… You are the more experienced fighter, and your ship is larger and in better condition than the Assassin's. attack them – I do not presume to ask for you to kill them, but drive them away from my ship, allow us to limp off to port with the tatters of our dignity, and I will not speak of your indiscretion."
Haytham was entirely unimpressed by the Templar's last ditch attempt to try and sway him. He had no love of the Templar Order… And who said he was going to let the ship continue to work? He planned on looting the ship of anything valuable, splitting the loot with the Assassin captain if the other would take the supplies, before sinking the ship. Connor looked a little concerned as the Templar spoke, shifting a little. He focused on something that the Assassin was wearing – a pendant that Ziio had worn – something that was precious to her and not something that she would part with lightly or easily. Connor did have her freckles and warm brown eyes. He barely heard the last of the Templar's driveling speech – Templars were easy to spot with one who had eyes like his. Perhaps… Perhaps a small test was in order "You speak as though I would be unable to discern which of your crew is more hostile towards myself then the rest."
With a knowing smirk, Haytham activated his second sight, knowing that his eyes shimmered an otherworldly golden color – it was something that his first mate had remarked on several times in the past. "I have far keener eyes than most do. You have a certain unfriendly glow about you that I can easily see." He turned to look at Connor – who shone a soft silver-blue in his second sight.
A soft gasp of recognition escaped the Assassin at the same time as a low, angry curse left the Templar. Both of them knew what the ability meant, though the latter knew only whispers and rumors that were half-believed and half thought to be nonsense. "You… You have golden eyes…" Connor managed, moving closer to the pirate captain as he did so. "… Once I have gotten the information I need – or the information he has – out of this Templar… I would like to speak with you privately."
Haytham found that there was a sudden tightness in his chest and a nervous anticipation filling the rest of him. It was all he could do to keep his limbs from trembling in slightly anxious excitement. The thought of having a child… A son… "Of course. My crew and I will be searching his ship for anything of value. Do you want to keep it? Add it to the Assassin fleet? Or… You could be fair I suppose and return it to the Patriots and hope that they do not pick another treacherous Templar to command her."
"I have not yet decided on what I wish to do with the ship. If you find any Templar plans, I would be very grateful if you handed them over to me." Connor responded. He hesitated or a few moments before looking Haytham square in the face and shifting his eyes gold for a count of five, fairly certain that the pirate captain had seen it. "We have much to speak of."
"Yes, I rather suspect we do, Connor." Haytham was fairly certain that the name the Assassin had given him was not the one that his mother had given him, but rather one he used when dealing with colonists and others with fairer skin, as most wouldn't even try to pronounce his true name. If Connor was who Haytham thought he was, he was determined to at least try, if the younger man would allow him to know his true name.