Most of punishments listed here actually happened to men of this time.
Mutiny.
John Clegg stood silently in line with the rest of his shipmates, watching grim faced as the cat o nine tails came down hard again on James Mays' back, making the unfortunate man whimper and scream through his gag as he tried once more to cry out for mercy, but Clegg knew nothing would come out of it. The sailor's strong back, strengthened by hours and hours of work on the ship after months at sea, skin darkened and sunburnt red despite months of being out here already, was ripped to pieces by the cat as the bosun flogged him repeatedly. With each whiplash, May's skin was ripped open, digging deeper and deeper into the flesh, and the ends of the cat were tugging so hard on the man's muscle, skin and tissue that Clegg feared there was no going to be extensive internal damage.
Humans, Clegg thought with contempt, were savage if they resorted to this as a punishment. But then with officers like Simpson and Waters, was it that much of a surprise? His eyes darted to the officers, and he felt nothing but pure disgust for these humans who dressed in their smart uniforms of dark blue with white breeches and waistcoats. They just stood there, some of them sneering or smirking with each lash of the cat as it slowly tore May's back to pieces, and if the young Time Lord needed anymore proof of human savagery he had it in spades. But some of the officers were clearly uncomfortable with what was happening, but the Time Lord didn't care if they were uncomfortable with the floggings. They were guilty of just standing nearby and letting things happen. Next to Simpson, who was smirking at the sight of another man who was being flogged for something he hadn't even done, stood the captain of the Raven.
Captain Thomas Abercrombie was much taller than Simpson, but if it weren't for the fact he had more flabbier features that were so darkened by the time he spent out in the sun and with a face lashed again and again by the climate of the sea's salty air and winds, you'd think he was Simpson's father. All but 3 of the officers on the ship were sadistic monsters, but that made things worse.
On civilised planets, this sort of brutality towards men who hadn't even done anything was frowned upon and severely punished, and while Clegg was sure not all sea captains were sadistic brutes, Abercrombies' actions coloured it for all of them. Seriously, tearing men's backs to shreds?
Out of all the officers, Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters were the worst, and they were helped by the captain's evil tempered assistant. Anderson was one of many people on the ship that Clegg and the others took the time to hate. Clegg didn't know if assistants were a necessity onboard a ship like this, but he didn't care about human culture. Mr Anderson spent most of his time lazing about the ship, but he had quickly made a lot of enemies onboard ship. When you made an enemy out of a member of the crew, you would either accidentally bump into them, or punch them in the face.
Anderson was more subtle.
Whenever someone crossed him in public, he had his loyal allies in Waters, Abercrombie, or Simpson in his corner, and they would brutalise whoever had gotten in Anderson's face. But the slimy little man had another weapon in his arsenal. Whenever he was bored, careless incidents would take place like buckets falling or belaying pins rolling down the decks with the swell of the sea, and while some of the crew were so incredibly stupid, and told the officers who were quick to attack they had had nothing to do with it though they were never believed.
While May was being flogged, Clegg's eyes picked out the man. He was dressed in a brown jacket, white ruffled shirt and simple grey waistcoat with polished black shoes. There was a curl to his lips as his eyes glinted in sadistic pleasure with each lash the cat took as it cut May's back to shreds. Everyone knew the captain's assistant had been responsible of that rope thrown from May's post at Abercrombie's side two days ago. May had been busy at work when Anderson had picked up a piece of rope, and lobbed it towards the captain. Half of the line had hit Abercrombie in his side, causing him to trip up in surprise.
Abercrombie had lost it with May. One moment May was hard at work with the lines, the next minute he was trying and failing to plead for his life, though May was smart enough not to expect much from the man. And that was what had lead to this. For sixth months now, many of the crew - including Theta - had conspired for a way to get rid of Anderson. Someone had suggested they just simply push the man overboard, but that was quickly shot down since one of the officers would guess what had happened.
While the punishment wore on and watching the punishment take its toll on May's body as he whimpered and shook from the pain and the blood loss, John Clegg, otherwise known as Theta Sigma though he'd had to put his Time Lord identity to one side to better hide on this ship full of humans, let his mind go back and focus on the past.
The Raven had been at sea for three months now, they had set out from Plymouth. Theta remembered the uneasy sleep he'd had the night before the crew were forced to set sail, lift up the massive and very heavy anchor, and generally put the ship to sea. Still dressed in the clothes he'd regenerated into, some of them ill-fitting but since the people of this era who were living in abject poverty had to make do with what they had, no one had really noticed or cared, Theta had worked with the others, doing his level best to stay unnoticed. Nowadays he dressed in the simple shirt with duck trousers that fit snugly around his waist that went down to his ankles while he went barefoot on deck, and he had a more weatherbeaten face than before and his clothes and hands already smelt like fresh tar and salty sea air.
When the Raven had first set sail from Plymouth harbour six months ago, all of the crew - save for Theta and the newly pressed men - knew what they were doing. Unintelligible orders were barked left and right and were obeyed without question. The newly pressed men were forced aloft, something that had many of them quaking in fear, but between their terror of heights and the threatening behaviour of the officers and their underlings forced them to go up. It didn't help matters that it didn't occur to those same officers and underlings that their new recruits were more likely to get in the others way because they didn't know how to sail a ship.
One experienced sailor was kind enough to reassure them all. "There's a nothin' more pitiable than a landsman startin' a sailor's life," he had said, "Don't fret lads, within a month, ye'll be scurrying 'round 'tis ship to follow the same orders wi'out a seconds thought."
The old sailor was right. It hadn't taken long for Theta, who was by then going by the name of Clegg, to experience the changes the months of hard work. In the past such work would have been seen as beneath a Time Lord, and Theta had thought his people must be having a laugh if they showed their sense of humour in public, but he had done it because if he had decided that until he had a better plan in mind it was better to just submit. Theta was worried about the crew - Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters were new officers, and they'd already made it clear to their crew that they didn't care about the wellbeing, and while their punishments had been reasonably light in the harbour, all of that changed when they were out at sea. Floggings, shouting, being clapped into irons…..it was all extreme. And the worst part of it was too many of the officers went along with it all, and their compliance with Abercrombie allowed the captain, the first officer and the ship's only midshipman to get away with their crimes.
But even in those horrible moments when the ships' atmosphere was like a bomb about to blow up, Theta had to admit when the trade winds stretched the sails until they were taut and made the rigging hum, layers of canvas lapping each other in patterns as the wind pushed the sails along on their journey, the views were beautiful.
It was just a shame the ship wasn't. In Theta's eyes the ship was definitely like a bomb that was about to explode with how Abercrombie, Anderson, Simpson and Waters behaved. On the lower decks, bunks and hammocks were shared by the watches, and open gangways let in as much air and sunshine into the rest of the ship, but most of the ship was dark and much of it was in shadow, lanterns provided the light during the storms that occurred so regularly it was a wonder they didn't happen more often. Each man had his kit of eager possessions and changes of clothing meant to last for a few years on board the Raven. When they weren't on watch or at work, on deck or aloft, the crew would sleep, living amongst the coils of rope for the rigging, spare sails, and patch cloth. They would even share their living space with animals that were destined to be used for food; Theta found it disgusting the humans crammed their own people and animals into small, tightly confined spaces, but since the humans hadn't discovered that aspect of health yet, it wasn't a surprise. Still, it was disgusting having to wake up every morning with the stench of animals in his nostrils, and Theta was thankful for his respiratory bypass system.
Belowdecks whenever Simpson and waters weren't busy terrorising the crew, some of the old sailors would tell stories about their time at sea. Many of them had been pressed into service, much like Theta had, but they had adapted to their life.
"Ye've not got much choice, lads," one of the sailors told them one night, three days after Raven had put to sea. "Ah've been at sea for 20 year now, and ah've been moved from one ship ta another. The fact is, ya get used to life at sea. Ah was pressed in Portsmouth, and ah've seen ma home town many times, but ah've never left, or escaped. At first ah thought I'd manage to escape, but it weren't worth it. Ah was better off onboard a ship. Why, ye'll ask? It's good work, depending on the captain. Some of 'em are good, but anyone's better than Abercrombie."
Abercrombie.
Unlike Simpson and Anderson, Abercrombie was curious. He had his good days and he also had his worst days. When the ship had put to sea, the captain of the Raven had kept himself to himself, barely uttering more than a few words to anyone as he handed out orders to his officers.
But that hadn't lasted long. Within days of their departure, Abercrombie had lost his temper towards three men, two of them had been at sea for years while the third had only recently been pressed, and he accused them of bad seamanship, and he'd had one of them whipped with ropes' end. It didn't take long for Abercrombie to become as bad, if not as worse, than Simpson and Waters.
Abercrombie acted paranoid. He regularly accused members of the crew for theft of valuable food supplies. That made no sense to Theta; he had seen some of the food supplies, and was appalled since he knew they wouldn't last long without refrigeration, and with the presence of insects their edibility was always in question. Only the most desperately stupid member of the crew would steal the food, and the new members brought on board from the press gangs' efforts were quickly told not to steal the food since it was for all of them.
But some of the food still went missing.
And Theta had a good idea who was behind it all. Abercrombie, Simpson, Waters and Anderson were getting fat, but the young Time Lord was not stupid enough to speak aloud about it, but what annoyed him the most was everyone was accused of it. Worse yet, Abercrombie arranged random inspections of the lower decks where the crew lived, and he always found something incriminating - a crumb of cheese, a rind of meat, that sort of thing - and he would have that man taken out on deck, and he would be flogged without giving anyone the chance to prepare. Seven members of the crew had already suffered, and some of them happened to be men who had already crossed the likes of Abercrombie's favourites like Anderson or Waters. But something told the young Time Lord the worst of the punishments were yet to come.
Theta could see it in the man's eyes. Abercrombie was a rather plump man with multiple chins in a flabby face that was sunburnt red, with pale blue eyes under a small thatch of whitish grey hair of indeterminate colour. There was something in the man's eyes whenever he watched a flogging, or whenever he was actually on deck, his eyes scanning every member of the crew in his line of sight. It was a look that everyone, Theta included, was beginning to worry about because every time Abercrombie stared at anyone with that expression, it usually meant trouble for them. The only problem was no one knew what punishment Abercrombie would come up with. As the captain of the Raven, he was practically judge and jury.
Clegg was shaken out of his reverie when the drums stopped. The bosun stopped flogging May, and the man slumped across the mast he was tied to in relief, shaking even as the blood from his torn and ruined back ran down and soaked into the white of his trousers.
"Off hats," Simpson barked and everyone followed that order.
Abercrombie watched without emotion as May was cut down. "Take him to the doctor," he ordered coldly. before he added in a cruel tone, "Hopefully he's learnt a lesson about not to throw things at me from across the deck."
When the hands were dismissed, Clegg went back to work, his mind going back to the seaman's words about becoming so used to a lifetime at sea, and he had to admit he had become so accustomed to life on the Raven, but he was still a Time Lord, and without the TARDIS he wouldn't have complete Time Lord status. Some of the old humans on board the ship, old by human standards but children compared to the enormous lifespan of a Gallifreyan, might have adapted to the life of a sailor, but Theta didn't have to. He had no intention of living the rest of his second life on board ships like the Raven, having to deal with officers like Abercrombie, or arrogant little bags of slime like Anderson. Besides, at some point he'd find a way to escape. He would escape.
Later that night, Clegg was resting in his hammock, listening to the creaks as the ship rocked and rolled. It hadn't taken long for him to start to enjoy the sounds of the ship mixed with the violin music and the stories told again and again by the sailors. The sound of footsteps on his right made him glance to the side, and he saw Frost climb into his own hammock.
"How's May?" he whispered.
Frost shook his head with a sigh. "He's doin' alright," he replied, "surprised he can still walk. But he ain't dead, I thought after his back were torn to bits-" he shuddered.
"I know," Clegg replied, staring resolutely up at the old timbers overhead.
Frost was silent for a few minutes, then he whispered, "John, do y'think we'll be on this ship forever? I've got a wife, a baby-"
Clegg knew that, the entire crew knew it. "What do you want me to say, honestly? We're trapped onboard a ship with bastards like Abercrombie and Anderson, miles away from dear old England, and there's nothing we can do about it. I'm sorry," he added after a moment, "that was unfair of me. Sorry, Tom."
Tom Frost choked on a sob. He hated being on this ship, hated being threatened with floggings, and he hated the terrible food. It was a miracle he had friends to help him through the worst of the mess. The first chance he had, he would try to escape, but he didn't dare do that when they reached their destination - wherever that was.
Clegg sighed mentally. He could telepathically hear every thought coming from Frost, and he wasn't surprised since many of Frost's thoughts were similar to those in Clegg's mind. Unfortunately, Clegg knew many of Frost's ideas to escape simply would not work. "Don't think about escaping, Tom," he warned. "I want to leave as well. We're trapped on this ship, and there's nothing we can do about it. Think for a minute, think if you and I managed to escape. Even if we reached wherever we're heading to, we can't escape. We need a way to return to England, and that means we'd have to board another ship bound for England, and we'll be back at square one. We'll be caught by the crew and clapped into irons or forced to work with the second crew. And then, if we returned in one piece, do you really think we'd get away with the desertion? No, we wouldn't. You and I would pay for it with our lives, and there's no chance your child will ever see you ever. The best way we can get out of here is if we work together. If we work on our own, we'll die, but if we're together then we can win."
Frost went quiet, thinking about what Clegg had just said. The Time Lord exhaled through his nostrils gently, hoping that Frost took everything he said onboard. "Why do you want to go back so badly?" The young human asked quietly. "You don't talk about yourself, whether you've got a family, a wife or a baby. Why do you want to go back?"
There was no way Clegg could tell Frost about the TARDIS, he wouldn't understand for one thing, and even if he did believe him there was no chance he'd be able to prove it. There was also the problem of explaining the fact he was a Time Lord, humans hadn't encountered aliens yet, there was no way Frost would accept him and his presence here.
"Because I want to live my own life," he said after a minutes thinking it all through in a moment. "And part of my hopes is that I'm free to do what I want, when I want. I don't want to spend years of my life onboard a ship, watching floggings every week. No scurvy. No accusations of theft, and I know I'm not the only one. You, and everyone else I know on this damn log thinks the same thing."
Frost couldn't say anything to refute that. "What do you think we should do, John?" he asked.
Checking to make sure he wasn't being overheard, Clegg leaned over the hammock, making sure he didn't fall out as he did, and whispered, "Nothing just yet. Something will turn up for sure, believe me."
As the months wore on the brutalisation of the crew grew worse, and very quickly the more sadistic officers on the ship grew more out of control, so much so Clegg wondered if there were aliens nearby interfering with their brains, but since his more advanced Time Lord brain had senses most aliens would never be able to comprehend that was unlikely.
While Abercrombie didn't involve himself much besides appearing on deck and working with the ship's Master who was in charge of the navigational position of the ship - Clegg couldn't understand the humans and their primitive and so incredibly basic means of navigation since he could tell where they were simply by looking up into the skies and studying the position of the stars but after seeing for himself what kind of man Abercrombie was he knew it was unlikely the man would accept his advice. Clegg had also joined the group of men - it was actually a sizeable chunk of the crew - who wanted to do something about Abercrombie. Quickly before he became too mad to cope with.
One night the men met together secretly. Clegg, Vance, May and Frost and Brown met with other men, quite a few of them had been flogged while others were scared; they knew it was only a matter of time before they themselves were targeted, and Abercrombie was becoming increasingly paranoid as this hell of a voyage went on. He was starting witch hunts everyday for trivial things. Clegg wasn't stupid, neither were some of the other conspirators on the ship. They were planning a mutiny on the ship and Clegg had no intention of not being part of it because he knew that sooner or later he could be flogged himself, or something would happen that would make him a part of it. Besides Waters was becoming increasingly hard to take.
The midshipman had always been a bully, now he was becoming increasingly confrontational with everyone around him, and sooner or later things were going to get out of hand. Waters was getting into everyone's faces and it was a serious test of people's control that they didn't just punch the man in the face and break his jaw.
"Are we all here?" One of the older, more experienced and more educated members of the group asked.
"Get on with it," another snapped harshly, "we can't stay down 'ere long. Waters will be comin' around by now."
"Right, a few more seem ready to join us, but we can't ask them directly in case one of them goes to Abercrombie."
"They can't do that," Clegg interrupted, "Abercrombie doesn't let anyone speak to him. That includes the officers."
That was true. A few weeks ago, a pretty bold seaman who'd been one of the last press ganged into service onboard ship had made the dubious and risky decision to speak to Abercrombie - no one knew what the idiot planned to say to the man - but no one could be ignorant of the outcome. Abercrombie was furious with the idiot, and had had him flogged - 24 lashes - and then clapped into irons for two weeks; honestly the human punishments and their brutality shocked and disgusted Theta, it was amazing the species hadn't wiped themselves out to extinction because of them.
No one knew what the man had said to Abercrombie about to get himself punished so severely in the first place, but no one could deny that afterwards the man had refused to talk about it.
The problem was no one in their right mind would want to speak to Abercrombie since the man scared everyone to death, and since the man didn't really show himself up on deck and whenever he was on deck, no one knew what kind of mood he was in because he could change in a heartbeat. Abercrombie could be passive and mild one second, and then he could become a raging, foaming at the mouth monster the second.
"Maybe one of 'em will go to Waters or Simpson, then," someone suggested.
Clegg shook his head. "I don't think so," the Time Lord said, "I've noticed those two looking a bit worried. They might be taking the brunt of Abercrombie's temper more than us."
"Can we get on with this? Even if Waters is afraid of Abercombie, they're still in a better position to tell him what we're planning," someone begged, "we've got to make a plan that can work."
"I still can't believe we're going to take the ship," one man whispered to himself and his closest neighbours, "but what do we do when we've taken the ship anyway?"
"We go home, back to England!" Someone crowed like it was obvious. The other men cheered their agreements, but one man had to put a stop to it.
"We can't go home," Clegg said, not thinking twice about the lie, "we can't. If we take the ship, go back home, the Navy will realise what we've done at some point even if we lie, or they will shove us onto different ships or ship us back out again on the same mission Abercrombie is taking us on."
"He's right," the man desperate for the meeting to be finished said in agreement when he'd worked it out in his brain, "going home won't do any good."
"But we can't stay here forever," Frost said desperately, glaring at Clegg who stared back, "how 'bout we take the Raven into port wherever we're goin'-"
"Can't do that either, we'd probably be blamed for Abercrombie, and besides the governors will probably have us arrested."
The answer came to Clegg at once. "Who says we have to use the Raven at all? Think about it, we're not far from our destination, I heard the sailing master discuss it yesterday. We've got three more weeks, we have got to be in control of the ship before then. We can destroy the ship before it reaches the harbour, so while everyone's panicking and wondering what's going on, we will have already sneaked ashore and found another ship we could take, and then we leave. We'd have stolen the other ship, but the end result's worth it."
Silence reigned as the other conspirators in the group took in the radical idea. Slowly and with increasing enthusiasm, they agreed with him. But Clegg had another idea, one he kept to himself.
More than half of the crew had been flogged by the madness going on board the Raven, and Clegg was about to become one of them. He hadn't even done anything wrong, he had just been picked up on a whim of Abercrombie's. The Time Lord was dragged up on deck by two men who were more frightened of Abercrombie than anybody else, and while he was being led to the grating that hadn't even been taken down but was rather left strung up on deck since it was used practically every day. Clegg winced as his shirt was taken off exposing the unblemished skin of his back, and his hands were tied as gently as they could to the grating. The gag was shoved into his mouth to stop him from biting down on his tongue, though truthfully Clegg had the suspicion Abercrombie or Simpson would try to stop that from happening because they would love nothing more than to see men suffer even more by biting down on their tongues by accident during a flogging, but Clegg hoped they didn't go that far.
Clegg stood still for a second, calming his mind down and preparing to use his Time Lord training. It was not easy to torture Time Lords since they could use their mental disciplines to resist pain if they chose to. But he knew better than to push his mind into a complete immersion since Abercrombie loved to hear the sounds of men under the lash.
The first strike of the cat whipping his back took Clegg by surprise at first, but he managed to block off most of the pain he felt.
"Sail sir!" The man in the crows's nest shouted down, interrupting the flogging.
Abercrombie glared up at the man. "What?" He shrieked.
"Sail sir, there's a ship coming towards us on the port bow. Sir, it's a French ship sir."
Still immersed in his desire to see Clegg flogged, Abercrombie needed a moment to work out what was being said. When it occurred to him, it was nearly too late because the familiar blast of a cannon being fired echoed through the air, and the ball just passed through one of the sails and dropped into the ocean with a splat. Clegg struggled to get free but it was hopeless even as Abercrombie barked useless orders, but it was almost too late. The crew manned the cannons, but since the French ship had been prepared for action long before the lookout even noticed their ship Clegg didn't know how long it would take for the crew to actually load their cannons. Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters had been so busy whipping and beating the crew they had not bothered or cared enough about making sure they were ready for a fight. The idiots had been so pleased by their sadistic tendencies they had left their ship vulnerable.
Clegg took advantage of the confusion to try to get himself out of this mess - he had no idea if the cannonballs would smash into his back or not, he wasn't going to test it - and he managed to spit the gag out of his mouth.
"Hey, get over here and get me out of this!" He shouted at one of the crew members. It was Frost. He looked left and right to make sure Abercrombie, Simpson and Waters couldn't see him, not that Clegg could blame him, and untied him. Clegg massaged his wrists and rushed with Frost to the gun they'd been assigned to, and they quickly loaded it.
May and Brown looked up in surprise at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?" May whispered as they worked on the gun.
Clegg winced as he moved around the gun, picking up a ball and a couple of wads. "If you think I'm going to end being tied to a grating in the middle of a fight where a random cannonball or musket shot is going to kill me, then you've got another thing coming May," Clegg replied as she shoved the wadding and the ball into the barrel. Such an injury, he reflected, would probably cause him to regenerate, but regeneration was the last thing Clegg wanted to do on this ship. He was still in the early days of his second incarnation and he had still settling in, and even if one of the more fearful members of the crew didn't shoot him during the process there was no guarantee he would still be sane for a long time afterwards.
Clegg was determined to avoid regeneration for a long time afterwards - it was agonising enough to go through it once, but to go through it again after being hit by a cannonball was not something Clegg wanted to endure.
"FIRE!" The officers relayed the orders of the captain, but the problem was many of the cannons weren't even fully loaded yet thanks to the men being so overworked and so tired they could not even tell what they were doing. When the cannons fired a second after the order was given only a few of them actually managed to fire their payloads.
On deck Abercrombie was furious when only a few guns on his ship fired, but his curses against his crew was drowned out by the firing from the French crew. The humans and the rivalries between their nations had already reached Clegg's awareness, but while he ignored the English crew's derision against the French he had to admit the other crew was very efficient. Must have a better captain than us, he thought sourly as he reloaded his gun.
The French fired again when the English tried to reload and the cannonballs punched into the hall, splintering the wooden hull, and Clegg realised very quickly that they weren't going to win this fight. He could see out through the gunport the French ship was not as large as the Raven. In fact it looked like it was roughly the same size with presumably the same number of guns. While that should've just been a simple case of two ships having a fight, the French ship had a better trained crew onboard. The Raven crew were demoralised, they'd been whipped and beaten so many times, cursed and spurned by their so called captain and officers while other officers were so cowardly they probably didn't stand a chance. With too many members of the crew screaming from their injuries, Clegg decided to ignore the officers - they were the ones to have gotten them into this mess, they couldn't be relied on - and he grabbed the attention of the others at the gun and two others nearby.
"Forget Abercrombie and the others," he said to them, "load the guns, double shot them and then angle them down at the French ship's waterline. We can't win this fight, not in the way Abercrombie expects us too - he's probably up on deck useless. We have to take the initiative and fight back ourselves. Hopefully he and those other fops pay the price as well."
It took five minutes to load up the guns, even with the bos'n and his mates urging them on to fight, but truthfully they were out of their depths and they couldn't really do anything. Clegg angled his gun down and went to the other two to do the same thing. "We'll have to fire the guns at the same time," he told them, "we'll fire them at the same time. But we'll only get one shot at this. Understood?"
The men nodded.
"Right. Let's get going," Clegg said to them even as he slowed time down - a time trick wasn't something to joke about and he wouldn't really use one here but things were desperate, it needed a lot of concentration and it wasn't legal, but if he could trick these humans with it by making it look like he'd moved really fast….. He lit the fuses of each gun and they exploded, shooting out their balls against the other ship's hull. The French ship seemed to have jumped up in the air with the triple blast, and the shock seemed to give the English crew the courage to continue firing. They needn't have bothered really, not since the ship was beginning to sink.
"Cease fire!" Simpson shouted, and even from belowdecks the arrogant officer sounded surprised and relieved.
The French ship was evacuating, boarding their boats and getting as far as possible. When Abercrombie shouted for all the crew to be lined up on deck, they knew that the pompous sadist wasn't going to congratulate them. By the look of the number of dead bodies, quite a few of the marines and the officers had been killed in the fighting, so with them gone taking the ship wouldn't be too difficult, and quite a few of the marines themselves were tired of Abercrombie and wanted him gone as much as the crew themselves did before things got even worse. But everyone wondered what was going to happen next, and for those in the group that were preparing to stage the mutiny against Abercrombie, there was a sense of anticipation in the air. They knew that what happened here would definitely shape their desired plans.
As Clegg joined the rest of the men, he glanced over the rail at the French ship, or rather what remained of it. The French were in the boats and rowing as far as they could, as fast as they could, clearly afraid of the English chasing after them, but Clegg doubted they'd need to worry. Abercrombie was too angry to think about the French. Besides the ship was too badly damaged, but few seemed to care about that.
One of the officers was protesting. "But sir, the wounded-"
"GET THEM UP HERE!" Abercrombie was frothing at the mouth with rage.
"Sir-"
"SHUT UP, I WANT THEM ALL UP HERE. THEY'RE GOING TO PAY!"
It was official, the man had lost his mind.
Exchanging a few glances with the rest of his friends, Theta wondered if they were going to survive this. Abercrombie was so mad that even his closest allies on the ship were looking at him with concern.
Frothing at the mouth with rage, Abercrombie bellowed, "WHICH ONE OF YOU DID IT, WHICH ONE OF YOU DESTROYED THE FRENCH SHIP! I WANTED TO BOARD THAT SHIP, DEMAND THE CAPTAIN'S SURRENDER. WHICH ONE OF YOU?!"
Clegg stepped forwards, ignoring his friends attempts to stop him. "I did," he announced, standing up straight and looking at Abercrombie like the pathetic primate he was.
Abercrombie was silenced, and the wide eyed look on his face was not attractive. Then he whispered, "But-but you were being flogged," he whispered and then his face contorted with rage. "You insubordinate ruffian! How dare you disregard your rightful punishment-!"
"Rightful punishment? We were in the middle of a fight with another ship, a fight we were not even prepared for," Clegg shouted back, surprising everyone including himself with the sudden outpour of anger, "you did nothing. You stood on deck looking lost, unsure of what to do. What's wrong, don't you know how to fight? While you were frozen, I stopped the fight - it doesn't even deserve to be called a battle, we were outmatched because the French were better drilled and prepared. What've you done to prepare us, anyway, Abercrombie, eh? You've done nothing, all you and your thugs have done is flog us until our our backs are torn to shreds!"
"Silence! I'll have you back at the gratings soon enough!" Abercrombie shouted, and he gestured towards two marines to take hold of Clegg, but neither man moved. They just looked at the man that had been the captain of the Raven, and just stood stock still.
Clegg looked closely at one of them. "You've had enough, haven't you?" he asked mildly.
The marine looked at him for a second in surprise, then nodded. Abercrombie looked between them in a confused manner, but the remaining officers looked on with horror as the situation became clear to them.
"What is going on here?" Abercrombie spat.
Clegg picked up a belaying pin. "We're taking the ship," he said simply before turning to the others. They'd begun grabbing weapons while some of the marines cocked their muskets and aimed them at the officers. Abercrombie started shouting abuse at the mutineers, and one of the loyalist officers - not that there were many of them left since the French had seen to that - tried to rally the other men in regaining their loyalty, but it didn't work. The men were tired, extremely tired, with Abercrombie and his ways. They were tired of the weaklings underneath him as well, turning a blind eye to the floggings, the tortures, the bullying, the way Waters and Simpson were allowed to nearly get away with murder. The officers were wasting their time. They just too dense to see it until it was too late.
"You would really turn against your King?" One of them asked aghast.
A few of the men chuckled. Frost stepped forwards. The younger man, well younger in human years, snapped, "The King ain't done anythin' for me," he growled, "for any of us! We've been beaten in his name!"
Simpson and Waters glanced at each other and, being more intelligent than their captain, who was still shouting abuse at the crew, so they tried to run towards the stairwell.
"STOP THEM!" Clegg shouted and two men chased after them, and the Time Lord slammed the belaying pin into the stomach of the captain. Abercrombie wheezed and dropped to the deck, and then Clegg turned to the officers. "Don't even think about it!" he growled at them in case they had any stupid ideas. The officers wisely did as they were told.
It didn't take long for Waters or Simpson to be brought back. By and large it was a very painless and quiet mutiny, for that Clegg was grateful, but truthfully he was annoyed because so many people had been killed because of idiots in command and their lack of judgement towards Abercrombie. Instead of taking the rabid dog into custody and locking him into a straitjacket, where he belonged, and not getting rid of Waters or Simpson. Here, the problem was obvious, they were just as frightened as the crew were when it came to Abercrombie.
True, there were one or two men who didn't like the thought of being mutineers and being tarred with the same brush, but truthfully Clegg didn't see them as much as a problem. They were just naive, they didn't realise that the Navy would see them as guilty no matter what. The Navy had one punishment for mutiny.
Death.
The less they had to do with them, the better, and besides they would be more than happy in the next few years when Clegg had disclosed his idea. For the time being he had other matters to deal with.
He turned to May, Vance, Brown and Daniels. "Check the ship. Come back and let us know about the damage, and give your opinions of whether it will stop us from initiating the next stage of the plan."
"Right," May and the others went off on their task. Clegg watched them leave, hoping that they didn't miss anything out. If they did he would be truly disappointed.
"Plan, what plan?" Simpson gasped.
"That doesn't concern you," Clegg replied before anyone could speak; the less any of the officers knew the better, they could find an advantage and it could mean every one of the mutineers losing their lives. Clegg knew that humans were sometimes incredibly thoughtless and he didn't need it happening now. "What should concern you is whether or not our plans involve you dying for your crimes. Did you honestly think, you pathetic stupid waste of flesh, that we'd let you get away with everything you've done to us?"
Clegg looked down at the man, wondering again what they could do with Simpson and the others. There was no way they would coming with them when they reached port. If they did they would use whatever means was at their disposal to let the authorities know about the mutiny. While he would probably survive what the Navy dished out, though it would mean wasting another regeneration, Clegg had no intention for the others to die - Frost had a family, he deserved to see them again.
But if his idea worked then the family would be set up for life, if his understanding their primitive economy was any indication. Clegg refused to let this bunch of idiots jeopardise their lives, but he didn't know for sure how they'd take his new idea. He'd had it in mind for a long time now, especially since their fortunes were so terrible as they were.
The damage report came in. It wasn't a good report if you were looking to the long term, but since they weren't far from the port and would be exchanging their ship for another, it was meaningless. But still…..
"I nominate John Clegg as Captain," Frost announced loudly. "He was the one to come up with most of the plan for taking the ship, and he lead us."
"That's right," many of the men chanted.
"I'm with ye, Captain," One of the older seaman said, looking around, "I've no family back home, I've got nothin' to lose."
Clegg eyed the man closely, looking deeper into the man's eyes and seeing how serious he was. The man's words were very well chosen and Clegg had the feeling the man had guessed that once Abercrombie and the others were really out of the way there was only one way for them all to go. Piracy. The old seaman had worked it all out, but the others hadn't just yet.
In truth Clegg had known from the outset there was no other way for them to live now. After mutinying against Abercrombie and the rest of his officers, they were practically pirates anyway, the crew may not see themselves as pirates yet, but with the fact the Raven was still a naval ship and was severely damaged during the French attack, losing the ship and getting something different and less recognisable as a navy warship was vital. And there was only one way they could get hold of it.
The old man was right, what did they have to lose now? If the navy caught them, they wouldn't just punish them for stealing the ship away from Abercrombie, they would kill them for stealing another ship.
"All right now, if I'm captain now here are my orders, all hands to repair the ship as much as possible. Just patch as much of the ship up as possible. As for the officers, well force them to do some of the work. I'll decide their fate later, for right now they're to work, keep them under guard. If they try anything suspicious or stupid, kill one of them and simply chuck the body over the side. Frost, Vance, Mackenzie, Wilkinson, Brown, and May - I want you in the captain's cabin. We need to discuss our plans."
"Right, now we're here, I want to know for sure what we're going to do next," Theta said to the men, who he was hoping would become his inner circle. "The way I see it we're vulnerable, we have two problems - the first one is what we're going to do with this ship. I know the plan was to abandon the Raven and simply steal another ship, but the problem is we're going to need to plan ahead. Are we agreed, we abandon the Raven so we can return to England without the navy becoming suspicious?"
"Definitely," Frost said.
Wilkinson narrowed his eyes. "I don't think we've that much choice, Captain," he said, there was slight resentment to the man's voice at the time and Clegg decided to keep an eye on him in case the man tarred him with the same brush everyone had with Abercrombie. "Even if we beached the ship somewhere like Cornwall, the navy'll have every militia ferreting us out."
"Still at least we'd be back home," Frost muttered before looking at Clegg with an apology.
"We'll get back soon enough, but who says we can't go home with a bit more cash than what we didn't have before?" Clegg asked seriously. "Look, we need a new ship." The Time Lord paused as he picked up a chart on the table, studying it for a second; human mapmaking at this point was so primitive because the humans didn't have aircraft or satellites available yet to make their mapmaking processes much more simpler, but he had to admit the time it must have taken was impressive. "According to this chart, we've only got a few more days to reach the port," he said as he laid the map back down on the table and showed them, "we alter the course of the ship, and take it out of sight of the port, send a few men over to find a suitable ship, find some supplies and steal what we can take. Take a look, any ideas?"
Frost leaned over the chart. "What does this have to do with the Raven?"
"Glad you asked. The Raven will be lying in wait when the new ship arrives, then we offload everything on this ship that we think we can use - cannons, sails, wood, the lot," Clegg said. "After we've got everything onboard, we take the Raven as close to the harbour as possible and simply set it alight. If anyone sees the Raven burning, so much the better. They might even think we're all gone. If they do, send word of which ship it was, then it might fool the navy. But when we get back to England we might have to explain to our families, but the navy should leave us alone."
"While we sneak back to England on a different ship?" May whispered as he realised what the plan was.
"Yes, but who says we can't be better than that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we practically pirates now, right? Think of it, we've mutinied against Abercrombie and the others, stolen the Raven, planning to steal another, why not go the whole way? We only do it to a few ships, then we return to England without anyone knowing what we've done," Clegg said. "How does that sound? May?"
May looked down at his hands. "I was thrown out on the streets years ago, I've got nothing. If I'm going to become a pirate, I might as well become a rich one."
Clegg glanced at Frost. The younger man stared back at him, eyes tearing up with emotion. "You all know my wife and I are having a baby - little mites' probably born by now - but I've got little for them. I want to provide for them, give them a better life than what we had before. I'm in."
Clegg turned to the others. "I couldn't find any decent work back home, making me have to do labour work," Brown said, and Mackenzie agreed with him. "As long as you makes sure we can get plenty of loot, we're both in," the other man added.
"And you, George?" Clegg asked Wilkinson.
"I don't think we've got much choice, 'sides, I never liked the thought 'f a king in the first place," the wiry man grumbled, "he's like that bastard Abercrombie. If we become pirates then lets do it, I don't want to be pushed around by a king or a navy captain. But I don't want you to push me around."
Clegg chuckled. "I'll do my best, but overall what do you think of the plan?"
For the next couple of hours, Clegg and the others went over the plan, and for the first time in a long time Frost and the others now had the opportunity to talk and debate about something important - the problem with the officers of the navy was while they learnt from experience, they didn't take into account that there might be others who were twice as smart, and being able to contribute more to the planning stage.
Next chapter...the new ship.