Waves crashed over the railings of the Boreas, drenching the crew and washing over the deck. The gray waves pounded the ship relentlessly. Nels stood manning the helm, Lieutenant Gates holding on to the railing for dear life. "Are you crazy?" Gates shouted over the howling wind and pelting rain.

Nels had insisted on sailing the Boreas through the storm, despite every single officer on board telling him to anchor. But his mind was set and he was as stubborn as the sea, and he had experience with sailing through storms, even if most of them were snowstorms that he had accidentally caused.

"Do you really have to ask?" Nels shouted back, water pouring off his hat and running down his face. Another wave washed over the ship, making the two even wetter than they already were.

"No, just making sure! You're beyond crazy!"

The admiral laughed, almost oblivious to the churning peril below them. "And don't you forget it! I've actually sailed through worse than this!"

Actually, I've CAUSED worse than this. We didn't really sail, just kind of sat there when the sea froze over. Nels thought.

"Bull SHIT!" Gates yelled back.

"What?" Nels shouted, scared that he might have been thinking out loud.

"I've been in the navy for almost fifteen years! The last three I've either sailed with you or under you. Not even the North Sea in winter gets this bad!"

He kept talking, but thunder roared through the sky, cutting out anything he was saying. The wind gusted, threatening to tear the sails from the mast. "Trim that- BLAUGH- Shit!" Nels coughed as the gray seas washed over the quarter deck. "The topgallant! Trim the main topgallant!" He shouted to the crewmen on deck.

They staggered to the ratlines, half of them losing their footing and the other half having drunk their ration of grog too quickly. "Get up there! Now!" Dammit this isn't going to end well he thought. The topmen reached the sail and began tightening the lines. "Let's go! Hurry!" Nels shouted as a huge wave began to rise up just off the larboard bow.

The gray monster loomed over the ship, as tall as the main topsail, casting a shadow over the crew who remained on deck. Nels's mouth dropped, and Gates uttered a small squeak. Sheer terror shone in their eyes. "Maybe I should have anchored…" the admiral whispered before snapping out of his trance. He scrambled to turn the ship straight into the wave. A hit on one of the broadsides would capsize the ship, and almost none of the crew could swim. Most would be trapped below decks and drown.

Frost began to form on the wheel under the admiral's hands. He glanced down to see ice forming around his feet. Conceal it! Conceal it! Don't feel! Please don't do this to me now! He thought desperately, but the tingle continued to creep down his arms and out his hands. The ship finally faced the monster. "BRACE! ALL HANDS BRACE!" Nels called out. The Boreas hit the mountain of water head-on, the ship going almost vertical as it rode up the behemoth.

The wave began to roll just before the ship reached the peak, smashing into the bow. The topmen were jerked around, their arms wrapped through the lines of the mast. Gates was thrown back, his freezing hands losing grip on the railing.

"Gates!" Nels cried, throwing one hand back to help him. A flurry of snow shot out and landed at the poop, breaking Gates's fall.

The lieutenant stared with wide eyes as the admiral turned back to face the storm. He scrambled back to the quarterdeck as the ship leveled out. "What the hell was that?" He shouted.

The admiral remained staring stoically forward, his jaw tight. He gave no explanation.

"Nels!"

A bolt of lightning flashed, narrowly missing the mizzenmast. "Not now! Fucking hurricaine! Get your ass below and send Peterson or some other sorry bastard up!" Nels shouted over the wind. Thunder shook the ship.

"I'm not leaving just to let some other poor bastard fall to his death! I'm staying here!" A wave washed over him, tearing his hands from the rail once again.

"Have it your way!" Nels shouted, annoyed, and encased the lieutenants hands in ice and froze them to the rail.

Gates's eyes shot open, staring open-mouthed at the ice. He started to speak.

"I said not now!" Nels cut him off.

The storm continued to pound the ship, but the gray sky began to give way to a patch of blue near the horizon.

AN: Sorry about the short chapter. The rest will all be longer than this, I promise. As always, thanks for reading, please review (I'm serious guys, I have no idea what you think of the story. Even if it's a "stop writing such annoying author's notes," I'm fine with it). I hope you guys all have a great Fourth of July. Try not to blow anybody's fingers off or have something go flying into a bunch of people (been there). What better way to celebrate America than by grilling meat, getting drunk, and setting off explosives? 'Merica!

-Coat-Rack96