14 Air Battle:
"This is so lame!" Marco complained. "Why did I get stuck on your ship again?"
"We didn't have to join Captain Don." Pinta chided. "This was optional."
"Optional?" Marco's face turned red with rage. "Captain booze-breath didn't tell me nothing about it being optional!"
"Oh my." Pinta murmured. He began to nervously dry wash his hands.
"Because it wasn't optional for you, kiddo." Don cut in. The Captain of the New Hope stepped between his two crewmen. He turned to face Marco. "I was thinking of stripping you naked and tying you to the bowsprit to scare off Black Pirates. What do you think?"
Marco snorted and crossed his arms angrily. Pinta giggled fretfully.
"Pinta, what do you know about handkerchiefs?" Don asked.
"Well, they were originally used by priests to wipe their faces at the end of religious ceremonies. They were just simple silk scraps back then called facials." Pinta scratched the back of his head. "It eventually spread to aristocratic courts as a luxury, they used the most expensive fabric and adorned it with lace and embroidery—"
"That's not what I meant." Don interrupted. "Let's say, for example, that I was to buy a handkerchief to, I don't know, maybe replace one that got ruined. I mean a nice handkerchief, nothing shabby."
"Oh." Pinta nodded. "Well, that depends. Would the handkerchief actually be used, or would it be just decoration?"
"I don't know." Don mumbled.
"That is a problem, isn't it?" Pinta murmured.
Beneath the smattering of freckles on his face, Marco's pasty skin seemed to boil with agitation. His nose crinkled and he shot the other two an incredulous look.
"You two are insane." Marco muttered as he stormed off below deck.
"Well the most common materials used for handkerchiefs are cotton, linen and silk." Pinta offered. "Cotton being the least expensive, silk being the most."
"That's a start." Don said. "What else can you tell me?"
"Well, that depends, Captain." Pinta answered. "If you were looking for a cotton handkerchief, you could find them all over the world, but if you wanted a silk handkerchief I'd recommend that we stop in Yafutoma."
"What about linen handkerchiefs?" Don asked.
"The finest flax would be found in Nasrad."
Pinta nearly threw himself into Don's arms. Don merely took a deep breath before he turned to face Khazim.
"How long have you been here?" Don demanded.
"Just a short while." Khazim promised.
"Who's steering the ship, then?" Don pressed. "I thought that was what you were supposed to be doing."
"Marco."
Pinta giggled nervously as Don attempted to collect his jaw from the ground.
"Marco?" Don exclaimed. "Are you out of your mind?"
"I thought that the boy was being taught how to manage the helm." Khazim replied.
"Yeah, he's being taught." Don said. "Under heavy supervision. I don't want to know what that kid's capable of without someone breathing down his neck."
"Supervision, really?" Khazim mused. "I cannot believe that it's taken so long to train the boy as it is. When I was his age, I had already explored all the seas beneath the Red Moon."
"I'm sure you did." Don muttered. "Come on, let's go get Marco before he steers us into a reef."
The two sailors and their captain headed below deck. Marco greeted them with a snort. Don chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. Marco struggled against Don's hand and the ship dipped.
"Easy there, kid. I was just saying hello." Don said.
"Then say it, don't molest my head." Marco snapped.
Don turned to Khazim. "The kid's got quite the mouth, doesn't he?" he asked.
Khazim raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
"We were just worried about you so we came down." Pinta offered.
"You were just worried about me crashing the ship." Marco growled.
The boy fiercely cranked the wheel to the right and sent the rest of the crew flying across the small cabin. Don gathered his head from a panel of navigational equipment and peeled Pinta from his abdomen. He stormed up and shoved Marco away from the steering wheel?
"Well, do you blame us?" he growled.
Marco glared defiantly at Don. Ready to reprimand Marco further, Don was interrupted by a large explosion near the port side of the New Hope's stern.
"What the—" Don managed.
"We're being shot at." Marco said simply.
Don nodded and pushed Marco back behind the wheel.
"Nice steering." Don said. "The hull would've been toast otherwise."
Marco glowered, but readily accepted the wheel.
Khazim was already on his feet and he brushed off his trousers. Pinta seemed quite satisfied to remain on the floor for the meanwhile. Don shook his head.
"Khazim, to the cannons." Don commanded. "Marco, you know what to do. Pinta, make sure the life boats are fully operational. I'm going to go see who the moron who thinks he can fire at Blue Rogues is."
The entire crew nodded curtly and the three men ran in different directions leaving Marco alone in the room. By himself, Marco realized that he was trembling. The boy tried to shake it off and concentrate on the task at hand. It wasn't just his life on the line like he was used to, one slip up on his part and all of them could die. Pinta, Khazim, even Captain booze-breath. With a deep breath, Marco began to hum a tune from his early childhood, one that his mother would sing to him to convince the scared boy that everything would be okay.
Don watched Pinta scramble off to the life rafts as he climbed up the hatchway. Above deck, the sky was blue and clear. In the distance there was a ship with a black skull and crossbones flag. Don groaned and tried not to roll his eyes.
Don strolled towards the bulwarks and cupped his hand around his mouth like a megaphone. "Baltor!" he called. "Don't you ever get sick of this?"
"But I'm just starting to get good at it!" Baltor hollered back.
"Getting the living daylights beat out of you by Blue Rogues is the only thing a Black Pirate will ever be good at." Don retorted.
Baltor laughed. He took his time and flung his head back and he slapped his knees with a hand.
"Is that so?" Tears of glee were streaming down Baltor's face. "Your redheaded friend, Aika, found it rather difficult to beat the living daylights out of me."
"What do you know about Aika?" Don snarled.
"Is that what you're doing out here?" Baltor wondered. "Looking for Aika?"
"Just spit it out so we can get this over with." Don demanded.
"Aika's dead, drunkard." Baltor chortled merrily.
"Tell me something I don't know." Don snapped.
The mirth died from Baltor's face. Apparently he was hoping for a more shocked and grievous reaction. Baltor's smile reverted to a flat line.
"She's dead, because I shot her from the sky." he said coldly.
"Is that so?" Don murmured. His stomach had tied itself into knots of livid rage.
"What?" Baltor yelled. "Aren't you surprised?"
"You've gone too far Baltor. I'm going to end the vile smear on this world that you've created today." Don promised.
"Oh? And how do you propose to do this by yourself?" Baltor taunted.
Don didn't have to answer. Khazim's firepower was a sufficient reply.
"What?" Baltor spluttered. "How did you? It's not possible that you could!"
"I did nothing." Don gave a venomous grin. "You didn't expect me to go flying without a crew, did you? I've got the Delphinus' finest on this ship."
"Very good." Baltor sneered. "But I doubt you've got the skill of Vyse the Legend."
"Bring it, you worthless sack of grule guts." Don dared.
Baltor shot Don a petulant look before he stormed off below the deck of his ship. Don paid him little attention; the primary thought that burned through the man's body was that of revenge.
Don looked over his shoulder to see Pinta run towards him. Pinta jerked urgently at the hem of Don's jacket.
"Pinta?" Don muttered. "I thought I told you to check the life rafts."
"The life rafts have been checked and are in perfect condition, Captain." Pinta gave Don a salute.
"As good as that is, we won't be using them." Don said grimly.
The ship shuddered as it narrowly missed another shells impact. Pinta was sent sprawling to the other side of the deck. Don clung to the railing and swore.
The fledgling captain hurried over to Pinta and gathered the smaller man in his arms. With a quick glance at the other ship, whose cannons were busy being reloaded, Don ran for the hatchway with Pinta tucked under his right arm.
"It's getting a bit rough up here, Pinta." Don shouted hoarsely. "We should be fine below deck."
"And what then, Captain?" Pinta called out.
"Can you work a cannon?" Don asked.
"I won't blow my foot off if that's what you mean." Pinta replied.
"It'll have to do." Don answered.
Don hurried to the cannons that lined the side of the ship. Khazim was already there, a torch in his hand. Sweat gleamed from the Nasrean's shoulders as he ran past the line of cannons, lighting them as he passed.
"Cover your ears." Khazim's warning was following by the thunderous explosion of cannon fire.
"Khazim, man one of the smaller guns." Don ordered. "Me and Pinta can take over the main cannons so you can lay these Black Pirates to waste."
"Maybe I should check on Marco." Pinta suggested.
"The kid'll be fine." Don insisted. "Didn't you watch that wheelwork back there? He's taking after Vyse, might even surpass him."
"If you say so, Captain." Pinta eyed the cannons dubiously.
Don reached into his jacket and tore out some Red Moon stones. He handed them to Pinta.
"Pyres Cannon. Now." Don said.
Pinta collected the moon stones and ran off.
"You don't look well, Captain." Khazim noted.
"I don't feel too hot right now." Don admitted. He began to load the Main Cannon.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Khazim shouted over the roar of his cannons.
"Baltor killed Aika." Don growled.
"He!—" The words were overpowered by a primal howl. Khazim screamed over the sound of his guns.
"My thoughts exactly." Don agreed.
The men's cannons erupted and spewed shrapnel into the Blackbeard. The fury of their guns was heightened by the rage they held for the Black Pirate. The men's screams and whoops were engulfed by the deafening air battle, but they carried on regardless.
Between Marco's deft maneuvering and the men's artillery, the Blackbeard had no choice but to retreat. Don punched the top of his cannon furiously.
"We are not letting him get away!" Don declared. "Pinta! Run down and tell Marco to follow them."
"But Captain, they're retreating." Pinta protested.
"Just do it." Don snarled.
"Aye aye." Pinta's voice faltered. He turned and hurried off.
Don glanced over at Khazim. The other man didn't offer an argument.
"Nasrad was destroyed before my very eyes and there was nothing I could do about it." Khazim said solemnly. "It broke my heart. I vowed to never let something like that happen again. Aika's murderer is before us. Let's make it right."
From that day forward, the ship named Blackbeard was only a mere name scrawled into the fresh pages of the New Hope's Captain's Log. Driven by a lust for revenge, the New Hope's crew didn't cease their attack until Pinta spied the Black Pirate, Baltor plummet to his doom amid the shattered wreckage of his ship.
"What now, Captain?" Pinta asked hesitantly.
"We sail for Sailors Island." Don answered. He rubbed his new trophy; a shard of wood from the Blackbeard's stern before he slipped it into his pocket. "We need to refuel after that battle."
"Aye aye, Captain." was Pinta's dull reply.