Chapter 4~ Scars

Warrior sighed as she took a mid-afternoon doze in the sun. She'd just had luncheon and there were no pressing duties to be had at the moment. Thankfully because her scar was aching again. Some days it was worse than others but today it was particularly bad. Like a woman on her period, the pain made her cranky and she had no desire to sail anywhere or do anything!

Nonetheless Tamaroa sailed over. She'd just finished with her own patrol around the bay and decided to check up on her oldest (youngest) fleet member. "Warrior, you awake?" She asked.

"Go away." Warrior grumbled without opening an eye.

Tamaroa chuckled. "Not in a good mood I see." She said, hiding her concern. She knew Warrior would only be so sharp if she wasn't feeling well.

"What do you want Tamaroa?" Warrior asked, finally looking at her. Her crimson eyes were clouded with pain and Tamaroa noticed how she grimaced as she shifted her weight more to her starboard side, which she was favoring.

"Let me see it." She said.

"What?" Warrior asked, confused.

"Let me see the wound that is making you list so."

Warrior bit her lip. She hadn't shown her scar to Tamaroa or anyone really. It was below the waterline and such a thing was improper.

"I wasn't asking, Warrior." Tamaroa's tone had sharpened, indicating exactly what her words implied. She was ordering the other ship to do as she was told. Warrior had no choice.

Sighing, she slowly shifted her weight over to port. The heel exposed the area the scar ran across. Tamaroa couldn't quite stifle her gasp. "How did you get this?" She whispered. The scar, which was really more like a freshly scabbed wound, was a series of deep cuts running length wise down Warrior's side starting at the shoulder and extending back some 300 feet. A third of her length!

"Warrior, how did you get this?" Tamaroa asked in a hardened voice.

Warrior sighed. "Glancing blow. I think I hit an ice ram but I'm not sure. Thought I missed it." She hissed as Tamaroa touched it. "That hurts!"

"Sorry." Tamaroa paused. "How long has this been bothering you?"

"I dunno. Since I was brought back I think."

Tamaroa nodded. "Now I really want to get your file." She said.

"Why?"

Tamaroa's eyes had narrowed to fine slits of ice blue and Warrior pitted the source of her anger. "Because I want to know why the fucking hell they decided to raise the fucking RMS Titanic!" She growled.

"You-don't want me here?" Warrior asked, sounding a bit hurt.

Tamaroa realized her mistake at once. "I didn't mean it like that." She assured the larger ship.

Warrior frowned, not believing that for a second. "Yes you did. I know you did." She replied, staggering upright and hiding the wound once more from view. "I'm going on patrol."

"You'll do no such thing!" Tamaroa called. "Warrior, I felt that wound. It's swollen which means it hasn't fully scarred over yet. Not entirely unexpected given your were likely in an induced coma for most of your time on the seafloor. I think it might be infected. You shouldn't sail with it."

"Watch me!" She growled and pushed past the cutter. Tamaroa was forced to move or be run over. "Warrior, Warrior wait!" She tried to increase speed to go after her but Warrior's new engines combined with her sleek frame allowed for a speed that couldn't be matched. Not even that speed demon SS United States could catch her! Once Warrior was clear of the harbor she put all the power she could to those engines and she was gone just as quickly as she had gone from this world before, vanishing into the horizon.