The Black Viper glided across the water like a serpent, searching for its next meal. The wood of the ship was as black as its sails, but not a single speck of grime marred its surface. The ship was kept too meticulously for that. The crew was feared their captain too much to disobey. Nothing on the ship was ever out of its place.

Captain Vincent Clement gazed out the window, a single finger stroking his oiled and carefully groomed mustache. And a captain was like his ship; nothing was out of its place. Not a single stray thread or a tear could be seen on his silk, tailored garments. The same could be said for his quarters. Oil paintings hung on the wall alongside velvet tapestries. Various treasures sat on pedestals. In the corner of the room, one of his men played a violin.

"The sea is beautiful, oui?" Captain Vincent asked, his voice rich and deep,

His companion playing the violin didn't answer. He kept his unseeing eyes trained on the floor and continued playing. It had cost him his sight and his tongue to learn that Captain Vincent only required him to play, not to provide conversation.

"But oh, what is this?" Captain Vincent reached into his silk coat and pulled out a spyglass. He peered through it and rotated the lens to focus on the object on the horizon. A relatively small vessel, two sails, but armed.

Smaller than the Spanish merchant ship, but then again, the Black Viper was always searching for its next meal.

Captain Vincent sat his polished, hand carved desk and rang a bell. As he waited for his quartermaster to respond, he polished and sharpened his sword. It was already gleaming, having been recently cleaned of all blood, but its edge had dulled from cutting through bone. After a few short moments his quartermaster, Monsieur Desmond, entered his quarters. Less polished and refined than himself, Monsieur Desmond was at least had some semblance of a gentleman.

"You rang, Mon capitaine?" He asked.

Captain Vincent nodded toward the window, "Look out there, and tell me what you see?"

Desmond pulled out his own spyglass and followed his captain's instructions. When he spotted the ship, an amused smile curved his lips, "I shall give out the orders to adjust course immediately mon capitaine."

"Ready the cannons as well," Captain Vincent added, "We don't want to be late for our rendezvous, non?"

"Yes, mon capitaine," Monsieur Desmond backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Captain Vincent sat back in his chair and closed his eyes to enjoy the music. Soon, he would enjoy the music of cannon fire and screams.

They were making great time, they had to be catching up to them soon. Gerald was sure of it. They storm had thrown them off course, nearly capsizing them in the process, but luckily they only caught it just as it was blowing itself out. And it was only this morning, a few hours ago in fact, that they came across a Spanish merchant ship that had been recently stripped by pirates with an orange fox on their flag. They knew nothing of a kidnapped governor, but Gerald knew he was there.

"I'm coming for you brother," Gerald whispered to himself, "Just hold on a little while longer. When I find them, I'm going to kill every last one of them."

"Um, Gerald...sir…"

Gerald repressed a groan and turned to Stinky who was looking nervous and filthy, "Yes Peterson?"

"I, um, don't mean to bother you sir but," Stinky rubbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably, "Sid-um, well, remember how you were telling us to make sure to adjust to the current? We noticed that it was kind er' acting funny. And we didn't want to get off course-"

"Peterson!" Gerald snapped impatiently, "What is it?"

"Um, Sid got stuck in the tiller," Stinky finished sheepishly.

Gerald groaned and ran a hand down his face, "And just how is that possible?"

"We tried turning the whiper-staff but it weren't working so Sid tried to fix it and-"

"Stop," Gerald held up a hand and sighed, "Just show me."

Stinky nodded and led him down below deck. Gerald followed behind growing more and more impatient with every step. They were so close to reaching their goal, God help them if Stinky and Sid had set them back. The two of them passed the barracks and the powder room housing their two cannons. Gerald's brow furrowed in confusion when they neared the back of the ship. Stinky merely paused though, grabbed a panel of the wood, and pulled at it.

"Hey!' Gerald exclaimed, "Don't break the ship! We still have to reach the governor and Port Hillwood in one piece!"

"But it comes off super easy, we thought it was supposed to come loose." Stinky finally tugged the plank loose, exposing an open area behind it.

The space was around the size of a closet, with a few beams being the only floor. The air smelled of moldy wood and salt water. A large pillar ran from the top to well underneath, disappearing below them. And standing in the middle, his feet barely touching the beam beneath him was Sid. His arm was raised high and his wrist disappeared into the wooden ceiling above him. Gerald was speechless, truly speechless. He confessed to not knowing much about the making of ships, just how to sail and command them, so he had no idea what he was looking at.

"Don't look at me like that," Sid flushed angrily and looked away, "It's not my fault this stupid thing broke."

"W-what the hell are you doing?" Gerald whispered when he could speak again. He didn't know if he should punch him and laugh, or just punch him.

"I told you it's the stupid tiller's fault!" Sid exclaimed, "I was turning the whip staff like I was supposed to but the ship wouldn't adjust course. So we looked at the rowie and that wasn't it so we came down here to check tiller and something is stuck in it. So I stuck my hand up to get it unstuck and now-"

"His wrist is jammed," Stinky finished, "and now we can't get it unjammed."

"I should chop it off!" Gerald shook his head angrily, "I swear you two. Alright, step aside and let a real man take care of this."

He stepped into the small space and Stinky followed after him, completely crowding the tiny space. Gerald grunted in displeasure and tugged at Sid's arm.

"Ow!"

"Hold still!"

Gerald tugged again but the wrist held. He peered closer to see if maybe his sleeve was caught on something, but it was wedged fast against whatever it was. The temptation of cutting Sid's hand off for real was growing stronger by the second.

"Hey," Stinky spoke up suddenly, "you guys hear something."

Gerald and Sid froze. The only sound Gerald could hear through was the creaking of the ship and a faint lapping noise. But then it came again and Gerald heard it. A shout. Followed by another shout.

"Something's happening," Gerald deduced, "We have to get up there."

He tugged again at Sid's arm but it held firm. He pulled again ignoring Sid's cry of pain and the shouting increased above them. Gerald paused for a minute, torn in what to do. If the ship was in danger he couldn't very well leave Sid trapped down here, completely vulnerable and helpless. But the men above weren't military trained.

"I'll- I'll be back for you," Gerald decided, letting go of Sid's arm, "I just have to-"

The ship gave a sudden lurch though, nearly sending all three of them off balance. The panel off wood fell back into position, closing off their exit and casting them in total darkness. The shouting above seemed to echo everywhere and distant booms made Gerald's stomach sink.

"We're under attack!" Gerald yelled out, "Stinky! Get that plank open now!"

The ship rocked again, and Stinky gave a shout of terror. "I can't see!"

"I'll do it!" Gerald tried to move but lost his footing and suddenly fell. One foot fell through the air for a sickening moment as it missed the beam below him. The rest of his body crashed to the ground and knocked the breath out of him. But he refused to give up. Completely blind, Gerald pulled himself up and slowly began to stand. His knees wobbled, but he got to his feet.

And everything exploded.

"I'm going to join the Navy someday."

Arnold looked at him, age-old concern in his green eyes. Gerald turned away from his worried gaze and stared out onto the sea. It was particularly rough today, white caps going all the way to the horizon. He shifted and threw a rock into the water below. He wondered how far down it was. If you would hit the water, or smash yourself to pieces on the rocks below. Did it hurt to die?

"Do you think it hurt?" He whispered, "When they- killed Jamie. Do you think it hurt a lot?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Arnold shrug, "I don't know."

And for some reason, it made Gerald smile. Everyone else had been telling his family the same things over and over again. He was in a better place. Jamie died a hero. Everything happens for a reason. Only Arnold was honest. He would never lie in a clumsy attempt to console him. And that comforted Gerald the most.

"I think that you'd do great in the navy," Arnold spoke up suddenly, "You're really strong, and brave and stuff."

Gerald found his smile and his confidence growing, "Yeah, I am aren't I? And you can join too!"

"You think so?" Arnold looked out onto the horizon, "Maybe I could. And when my parents come back. I can talk to my dad about and maybe he'll take me serious about joining him and my mom."

"And maybe we'll cross paths!" Gerald started bouncing in excitement, "Johanssen and Shortman! Privateer and Captain! Traveling the seven seas!"

"Yay!" Arnold cheered and held out his fist, thumb up, "Best friends forever?"

Gerald smiled, bumped his fist against his, and wiggled his thumb, "Forever, man."

Gerald's eyes shot open as salt water filled his nose and mouth. His body went into a panic and he began to fail wildly. But then years of naval training kicked in. Stop panicking and get yourself together! He forced his body to still and as soon as it relaxed he noticed he was leaning against something. With his body relaxed it bobbed upwards and Gerald realized that he was bobbing in the water, clinging to a piece of wreckage. His heart twisted as he looked around. All around him was wreckage and the water was darker in some areas. Dark with red. And smoke filled the air. A soft groan sounded somewhere close by and Gerald searched for its source. He spotted one of the old sailors clinging to another piece of wreckage.

"H-hold on!" Gerald sputtered, "I'm- I'm coming!"

He let go of the wreckage he was clinging and went under for a moment. Again, panic gripped him but Gerald kept his head. He forced his body up to break the surface and began swimming to his fellow Navy man.

"I'm here," Gerald reached him, "where are you… hurt…"

Gerald's voice trailed off as he turned the man to face him. His stomached instantly wanted to heave. One looked and he knew there was no help for his poor, unfortunate man.

"The viper," he gasped, choking on his own blood, "the black…viper…"

He groaned softly one final time before he slipped from Gerald's arms and into the dark water. In truth, Gerald was tempted to slip into the water too. He had failed. He had failed his station, failed his crew, and failed Arnold. There was nothing left now. Nothing. Hot tears blurred his eyes and mixed with the salty seawater.

"G-Gerald!"

Gerald's head came up right before he slipped under. The call came again and this time he saw them. Sid and Stinky floating on the same piece of wreckage and frantically waving to him. Gerald's mouth curved into a wry smile. He couldn't even give up in peace, could he? Once again he let go and swam over to them. They both looked more than a little relieved as if he wasn't in the same boat-less state they were in.

"Anyone hurt?" He asked when he reached them.

"J-just a little banged up, sir," Stinky gingerly poked at a bruise on his forehead.

"I, um, got free at least," Sid gave a hollow laugh, "Lucky for whoever did this to us."

"Focus," Gerald said firmly but without malice, "We have to find a way out of the water before shark or before we attract sharks."

"But how? We're in the middle of the ocean!" Sid's earlier bravado was beginning to give way to fear, "The Spanish merchant ship is long gone by now. Are we supposed to swim to shore!?"

"We could take a ship," Stinky suggested.

Gerald repressed a sigh and tried to grab hold of his patience, "Stinky, I think you swallowed too much salt water. There isn't ship anywhere for miles."

"Well… there's one now," Stinky pointed and Gerald turned in the direction he was indicating. Gerald's jaw dropped then he burst out laughing in shock and relief. Because gliding across the water, heading right in their direction, was a large ornate naval ship. The standard of fleet 118 rippled in the wind. Commodore Bassett had come to the rescue after all.