England could see the ship through his binoculars. The almost complete frigate was moored in the harbor, silhouetted by the night sky. She was sea worthy. From what he could see, it looked like she had most of her guns. This ship was state of the art. She had the smallest radar cross section of any ship in the Royal Navy. Her maneuverability was as good as almost any sailing ship. Most importantly, she would be fast.

The were fewer guards then was normal. He had known before hand that the guards would be light tonight. There were three reasons for this. First, it was just naturally a lull in the number of guards scheduled. Second, he had gotten about a hundred men to join him, with some of them were the regularly scheduled guards. Third, there was an accident off shore when about a dozen Irish fishing ships had decided to play a game of football between vessels and crashed dangerously close to the British coast. England had his suspicions about who had been responsible for that minor catastrophe.

His eyes glanced down at his analog watch. It was time for him to get moving. He stowed away his binoculars inside his coat pocket. The uniformed man was completely unaware of England approaching behind him. All of the man's attention was focused on a couple of men that were completely pissed. They kept on screaming about the Everton Tigers over and over again. England's sweaty palm clamped down on handle in his pocket. When he was right behind the guard he pulled the blackjack out and struck him in the head. The poor man fell like a ton of breaks.

The drunkards, actually some of his accomplices, quickly checked to make sure the man was fine before tying him up. They went off to subdue the other guards before anyone would be the wiser. England pulled out his mobile and dialed in a quick number.

"This is Captain Kirk. It is time to weigh anchor."

"Understood." The conversation was over that quickly. In minutes the crew would be here. They were scattered at different pubs around the city since a hundred random men milling about together in the middle of the night would have been a tad bit suspicious looking.

He pocketed his mobile and began to walk up the gangplank to his waiting ship. He let out a sigh as he feet touched deck. It felt good to be on board of a ship again. He let his hand run lightly against a railing as he walked. Soon the lifeless metal would beat with a pulse all her own.

Footsteps began to pound up the gangplank behind him. The men he had persuaded to give up their careers in the Royal Navy came up in groups of twos and threes. Each went to the area he specialized in. Engineers when down to check on the engine. The doctor went to the infirmary. There was even a cook who was going to go check the galley before helping wherever he would be needed.

A few minutes later he found himself on the bridge. He could feel the vibrations through his shoes and up his legs as the young girl took her first shuddering breathes of life. She would be a good ship, he could tell.

"Captain Kirk, we are ready," a young officer said with a salute.

As he stood there he made a mental vow to never give America the satisfaction of knowing that he had adopted "Captain Kirk" as an alias to steal his own ship. The brat would make his life a living hell if he found out.

"Cast off lines. The Thunder Child is going to sea." He smirked as he named his ship.

~Line Break~

Notes:

1. The Everton Tigers is a basketball team based in Liverpool.

2. When I saw "football" I mean "soccer". Of course since this is an England chapter I'd use the British term.

3. England holds the world record for most Star Trek cosplayers in a single place.