The Supremacy was out on the open sea when the storm clouds had begun rolling in. The ship groaned and creaked from the waves pummeling its outer hull. Lightning crackled across a sky draped in dark, ominous clouds, and a low rumble of thunder arose in the distance.
Aboard the Supremacy, crew members hurriedly scrambled about on deck, preparing for the worse that had yet to come. Inside the captain's quarters, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight and lanterns, Armitage Hux paid no heed to the warning outdoors. For hours, he had barred himself away in the miniscule chamber, obsessing over points on a map he had spread out earlier in the day on his desk, with a one-track frame of thought instilled in his brain.
The compass. Where in the hell is that bloody compass?
His eyes burned from staring at the same string of islands all afternoon; specifically, at the little X's in black ink marking those he had previously conducted searches from dawn until dusk. Islands where his men had unfortunately returned to the Supremacy at all hours through the night empty-handed. The most recent failure being Jakku.
One island now remained unexplored - Tatooine, a tiny dustball isle saturated with sand, to be exact - before a decade of trailing breadcrumbs around the Caribbean would come to a halt. Rumors and tales, that's all he had been chasing. Like a dog tracking the scent of stale rations on the street.
One island. One chance. Years and years of searching for it had dwindled down to this. Should Hux succeed in his quest and discover the compass that doesn't point north, at last, he will have found the very tool he needed to locate the heart of Kylo Ren.
Then, for his nemesis, it was game over.
Raindrops pelting the window pane silenced the tap-tapping of knuckles on his door. Seconds came and went before the rapping sounded again. This time, the captain peered through his fingers, massaging his temples, towards the door.
"You may enter," he responded blandly in a quiet tone, but loud enough for whoever lurked outside his chambers to hear. The door handle rattled and shook, and then the pekid appearance of Dopheld Mitaka emerged—Hux's exorbitantly anxious first mate.
"S-Sorry to bother you, sir," Mitaka stammered, remembering to close the door behind him as he reluctantly took four steps inside.
"What is it, Mitaka?" sighed Hux, clenching his eyes and pressing harder above his brows.
"T-The storm, sir. Perhaps it'd be best that we turn around 'til it passes?"
Hux's objection was prompt. "Absolutely not," he clipped sharply. Standing from his seat, the captain strolled over to a bureau opposite of his desk for a tumbler glass of rum, higher quality than what barrels of the beverage held on the bottom deck. "Stay on course unless I give the order stating otherwise."
Mitaka swallowed and nodded briskly. "Yes, sir," he assured, fiddling with the pleated sides of his trousers. "It was just a suggestion, anyway."
Sensing there was more his first mate wanted to add to the discussion, Hux swiftly gulped down the shot in his glass and warily met Mitaka's gaze. Seeing the worry on his face confirmed those nagging suspicions had been correct. "Go on," growled Hux, unabashedly helping himself to another drink. "Spit it out before you combust, already."
Flinching at the captain's acerbity, Mitaka nodded and shifted nervously on his soles. "T-The crew," he squeaked, arms folded in a vain attempt at making himself appear smaller. "They've been talking of the ghost ship again, sir."
Ghost ship. Hearing his subordinate mention the Silencer brought music to Hux's ears. The sort of heavenly composition a soldier heard when informed that he was finally coming home after a decade-long war. "What of it?" he questioned coolly, raising the half-full tumbler of rum to his lips to hide a sly grin tugging their corners.
Mitaka's voice fell to a whisper as if disclosing the details would summon the vessel directly on the spot. "T-That it was last seen within these waters, sir. That ships who have traveled this area are coming up missing. No prisoners or survivors have ever been recovered."
Poor bastards, Hux mused internally.
But if there was any ship capable of matching the Silencer in speed, even when fully submerged as he reckoned it would be while in pursuit, it was the Supremacy. Luckily, his experience regarding the Silencer offered him quite the advantage, as opposed to other ships who had happened upon the vessel that was crewed by the undead.
However, what he had neglected to share with his men, was the fact they were dangerously meddling in the undead's affairs—particularly, their captain's.
"Return to your post, Mitaka," Hux mumbled serenely, downing the last of his liquor in a single gulp. "That's an order."
Confused by the sudden change in subject, Mitaka could only blink as he sought to regain normal use of his voice. "Y-Yes, of course, sir," he croaked out eventually. Backing up in two large steps, he moved to make his exit quietly, fingers touching the door handle as he turned to softly say, "I apologize for troubling you."
Aside from his icy glare in the direction of the map, not a word was spoken by the captain as Mitaka took his leave. "You'll never beat me, Ren," warned Hux through gritted teeth, his voice at a low and menacing volume. "I'm gonna strike you in the heart as you did mine."
A hard crack of thunder pulled him from his murderous haze. The shadow of a smirk on his lips rapidly faded when he looked down at the now empty glass in his hand. Fuck. He needed fresh air to loosen his nerves; otherwise, Kylo Ren will have won, not knowing he was the sole reason for Hux's bodily decline. And he'd rather be damned than let his rival withhold that satisfaction!
Discarding the tumbler glass onto the desk, the captain retired from his quarters and strolled outside to the platform overlooking the main deck. Powerful wind gusts and heavy rain forced him to retain a solid grasp on the stern's banister rail. Those who were scurrying below stumbled over ropes and barrels, no thanks to the occasional high surges of saltwater converting the deck into a temporary shallow pool.
Despite being total chaos onboard the Supremacy, Hux's keen eye for detecting new faces in a familiar crowd settled on the pirate emerging from a doorway at the bow. Huh, he pondered, squinting. Though try as he might, he couldn't recall how or when they acquired the newcomer in question.
Momentarily, curiously, Hux simply observed from afar as the pirate lifted a hand, securing the tawny tricorn-style hat on his head in place, the tails of his mahogany overcoat thrashing wildly in the winds.
Moments earlier, while Hux was busily engaged with Mitaka inside his cabin, the crew was entertaining themselves on the third deck.
"Bullshit!"
"Laddie, there ain't no bullshit 'bout it. I saw it happen with my own bloody eye!"
A fit of laughter resounded then.
"Alright, alright, let me get this straight," a gravelly timbre rasped this time, pausing shortly. "You're expecting us to believe there's a ship out there, with a crew so evil, that Hell itself spat them back out?"
"Nah, shunned at Hell's gates is more like it."
"Aye! Matter of fact, the devil saw to it personally that their squid-face of a captain was turned away."
Banter regarding old sailor myths and lore had been droning on for nearly an hour now among a fraction of the Supremacy's crew, and Rey couldn't help but roll her eyes and groan. The absurdity in each and every new tale even greater than the ones she'd previously overheard, lounging in her hammock, swaying side to side incessantly, as she examined the compass Maz had given her just five days earlier.
Over the duration onboard, she found life on the Supremacy insufferable sometimes, and yet surrounded by humble pirates was also fairly entertaining—in the most unpleasant ways, save for the idiotic stories.
Heeding to Finn's advice she kept to the bottom decks. He'd assured her the first night onboard that it was her best chance to avoid Hux as the captain seldom ventured past the upper deck's flight of stairs. There she tended to sweeping and mopping floors. Wordlessly judging those who seemingly possessed the IQ of a flounder from afar.
And Christ almighty—Rey had seen more of the male anatomy in five days than she had in nineteen years of existence on Earth! But that was to be expected, unfortunately, when one had to share such confined space with well over a couple dozen other bodies at sea.
Fresh water was distributed sparsely; the food was absolutely deplorable. Biscuits baked with flour, water, and a pinch of salt was a constant on the menu for nutrition when the vegetables and beef were gone, two days into the journey. One could only overlook the weevils and maggots living inside them for so long before the prominent urge to regurgitate their food settled in.
Though aside from mopping up urine to seeing more dicks than she possibly cared to admit, Rey obeyed everything Finn had told her—lips clammed unless spoken to included. To anyone else, besides Finn, she'd grunt in response or mutter her manliest aye, never once a suspected member of the opposite sex.
She truly felt invisible. Irrelevant. Isolated to her own private cranny on the good ship Supremacy. However, pirates or no, being surrounded by society whilst unable to be herself was the worst kind of loneliness one could ever experience.
Although the compass reminded her in these moments that the emotion itself was only fleeting. That she would one day have her family again. Would remember what it was like to be loved, and to love in return.
"Finn!" A voice boomed at the same instant thunder clapped outside the ship, jerking her attention toward the left to perceive Finn passing the stairway threshold and pacing towards her. "Just in time for the good parts of the story!"
Panicked, yet also not wanting to be too obvious she was hiding something, Rey shoved the compass underneath her breast-band while Finn was busy talking to whoever had greeted him. Mere seconds after she had the compass situated and her expression schooled to normal, Finn stopped between her and the empty hammock hanging across from hers.
"Enjoying yourself?" Asked Finn, brow furrowed, as he proceeded to immediately claim the vacant hammock for himself. Because if not now he'd be sleeping on a filthy floor later.
"You know it," she grunted, lifting a hand to her hat brim and giving a quick two-finger salute.
Finn nodded approvingly. "I figured," he snorted. A moment of amicable silence followed as he made himself comfortable inside his hammock. "What story is it this time?" he sighed contentedly.
"Something, something about squid people and ghost boats."
"Ah," he chortled. "The Silencer at it again, I'm assuming?"
Rey scoffed at the cross-section of wooden beams above. "You don't actually believe that garbage, do you?"
"To an extent, yeah," he confirmed nonchalantly. "Legends do often carry some truth—unlike myths."
Scrunching her nose, Rey cut him an incredulous look through the canvas lining her hammock. "And here I thought you to be so much wiser than the rest," she teased. Despite having Finn blocked from her peripheral, she suspected he had a grin stretching ear to ear.
Never had she pictured herself becoming friends with a pirate, but Finn was different. Finn was...Finn. Sarcastic. Funny. Considerate of his fellow crewmates.
"My pops was a sailor," he stated out of the blue. "I was...maybe five when my mum died, I think. So, I basically grew up with ocean tales as bedtime stories."
Biting her bottom lip, her initial instinct was to ask what happened to his father. But seeing as to how he wasn't jumping the gun to enlighten her on the details of his father's fate, she decided that a different approach was best. "Tell me more about the Silencer," she politely asserted, hugging her torso. "What makes this story about a monster ship that can navigate underwater more a legend than a myth?"
Finn tsked several times - thinking, she presumed - before he answered. "Years ago, a Jakku native was caught and held prisoner on a ship, which matched descriptions of the Silencer. The structure of its bow resembling a sailfish. Its hull made of organic plant matter than timber. Some people think a curse was put on it by a sea witch, punishing those onboard for their sins. So, I guess the term monsters is open for interpretation."
"Sure, makes sense," she reasoned, frowning. "And the prisoner? Did he escape?"
"Well, rumors say it was like a soul for a soul kinda deal. That the prisoner's son bargained his own life to save his father's."
Her grimace deepened. "That's awful…"
"Yeah," Finn conceded. "Kinda strange you didn't know the tale of Han Solo, Solo."
Still engrossed by the essence of Finn's story, it took a bit longer for Rey to thoroughly absorb the significance of his remark. Laying there, complete and utterly frozen, she blinked, realizing he'd caught onto her fib.
"Relax," he chuckled. "I'm not offended. If it's any consolation, I wasn't expecting you to —."
"EVERYBODY ON DECK!" A crew member shouted from the stairway near Finn and Rey. Both almost tumbling to the ground as they shot upright inside their hammocks. Fear lodged in her windpipe upon noticing that the crew quarters was now inches under water. "I NEED EVERY ABLED BODY ON DECK, NOW!"
Chaos erupted on the Supremacy's main deck. Pirates scrambled bow to stern and vice versa like mad ants at a feeding frenzy on a carcass. Each body present onboard flocked to their assigned station, helping the vessel stay afloat and maintain control during the wrath of the storm. Some drew in masts; others tended to supplies. Everyone seemingly had a job to do.
Everyone, except for Rey.
Breathe. Just breathe, she assured, trying to center herself and find something she could do to help the crew. Something to deviate focus from the battering gusts and the dagger-like raindrops pelting her slender figure. Something to take her mind off the fact she couldn't swim and was standing in ankle-deep water from the Atlantic on a ship. Something besides standing there, guarding a fucking hat on her head as if it were her only lifeline.
Why in the hell did she think this was a good idea, to begin with? She should've stayed on Jakku. At least on the sand, she couldn't drown.
A burst of electricity splitting the eastern sky caused the air to catch in her throat. Erratically, the light flickered and flashed, granting her the faintest glimpse of what Rey could have sworn was a ship, approximately 1200 meters from the Supremacy. Its composition similar to the nose-end of a swordfish at the bow. And her compass, safely hidden, suddenly felt tremendously heavier, as did her heart beating furiously against it.
Am I the only one seeing this? She thought, blinking, as the tiny hairs bristled on her neck.
No one seemed to be too concerned with its presence. Or perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her? A figment of her imagination, maybe, of all the stories she'd heard recently regarding the nefarious ghost ship the Silencer. Because when she blinked her eyes again, the ship appeared to have magically vanished, a vast ocean in its place.
"Ay! You there!"
With the mixture of smashing waves, thunder, and men barking around her Rey had barely distinguished the man's voice calling out to her, who she then noticed was approaching to her left. His face was pallid and rigid, framed by layers of sopping, reddish hair, eyes cold and severe. And he was singly fixated on her.
There was no doubt in her mind, that this was the man she'd spent the entirety of her days on the Supremacy trying to evade.
"Captain Hux," sputtered Rey, using the manliest voice that her vocal cords could muster, chin tucked to avoid scrutiny of the captain's frigid gaze.
"Impressive," Hux praised caustically. Clearly preening, she supposed, how aware she was of his name and face without receiving a prior formal introduction. Apparently, he'd declared beforehand that now would be a proper time for that. No, Hux wasn't simply stupid like the rest onboard—he was just stupidly arrogant. "Though I must confess that I don't recall having met you?" he continued to say.
Rey opened her mouth to respond but discovered it wasn't her voice answering.
"Rey," Finn provided from his position alongside her. "His name is Rey. We ran into each other whe—."
"Forgive me for being rude, Finnegan," Hux snapped, cutting a warning glare at Finn. "But I certainly don't remember requesting your input. Unless your friend here is without a tongue, I suggest that you continue biting yours."
Rey bit her cheeks to stop herself from firing back at Hux. She spared a lingering glance at Finn while the captain wasn't looking, meaning to tell him thanks but he paid her no attention.
"My name is Rey," she added as if it weren't already obvious to the captain. "I was seeking passage to the New World and Finn was kind enough to have offered me assistance after we met on Jakku."
"I see," Hux pondered. "So for five days, you failed to seek me out because...?" He scoffed. "Wait, how old are you? Are you even old enough to be sailing on your own?"
"I thought a person's age was irrelevant to you pirates," she challenged. "But for what it's worth, I'm nineteen."
The captain grunted at that. "Nineteen going on nine, I presume," he sneered, bringing himself two steps closer. "You have spunk, Rey. The spirit of a true pirate is awfully hard to come by these days. And you'd make an excellent addition to my crew."
Apprehensive, Rey peered up at him through the brim of her hat. "I would be honored to assist you on your voyage, Captain. However long it takes to prove myself."
Hux chuckled again. "That won't be necessary," he ensured, smug.
Rey should have seen it coming. Her accelerating heartbeat. The crimson banners before her eyes asserting that something was definitely wrong when Hux touched her face with an ice-cold hand, slowly tracing the curvature of her bottom lip with his thumb. The voices inside her head screaming she needed to run. Far away and fast.
"Such a waste of spirit, too," Hux snarled as if the very sight of her disgusted him. Loosening his grip, harshly, the captain turned to address another pirate who had come up beside him. "Throw her overboard."