Trade Secret [on hold]

Trade Secret

(Okay, so this is totally random, but we were playing Tocatta for Band in band today [well, duh] and I thought "PIRATES! YAY!" SO here you go.)

Connie tugged on the straps of her goggles, straining her eyes to see through the fog. The Salamander skated eerily on the glassy-smooth surface of the water, and the deck was so quiet she could hear the rats scampering through the rigging below her. She twitched a little. That was not a pleasant sound.

All she could see was gray. Gray clouds of mist rising from the placid sea. Connie ran her fingers through her short dark hair and wished she had a lens attached to the goggles. Something fancy, like Alistair's. But of course she'd never get anything like that. "Only for the captain, eh?" she mumbled in a falsetto imitation of his accent.

Her voice echoed around the small crow's nest, and she sighed. This was turning out to be another long, boring, totally unnecessary, freezing cold night watch. There's nothing out here. We're on the open ocean, for all that's worth.

Hang on.

Connie poked her head around the mast protruding through the center of the crow's nest. There was nothing new. The gray expanse remained as unchanged as ever - at least to the eye. She heard the sound again. It was a slimy, scraping sort of sound.

And then the rise and fall of the jagged tentacles.

Connie zipped down the rigging as fast as she could. Her breath burned in her throat as the rope did under her hands, but she didn't pay it any mind. This was much more important than trivialities. Her bare feet landed with a thump on the deck and she dashed to the center of the ship, where the alarm was positioned.

Grabbing hold of the rope that triggered the all-hands signal, she ran with it to the opposite end of the boat. "Kraken!" she shouted. "All hands! KRAKEN!"

The deck of the Salamander was alive in an instant. Men stormed towards their respective stations,  all the while arming themselves with whatever host of pistols, cutlasses, or bits of rope worked best for their purposes. Connie herself ducked below deck to her own station - with the cannons.

"Connie!" a voice exclaimed from behind her as she dismounted the stairs. "A kraken, eh?"

"Aye." The word was terse. "Look, Harvey, don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Harvey reached the station before her, and rolled the cannon backwards for loading. "Get the cannonballs," he ordered her, and she complied, hoisting one in each hand and rolling one down the mouth of the cannon after a little gunpowder. Connie tamped down the last bit of black powder to finish it off, and they waited with bated breath for the signal.

"Should you be wearin' those down here, lass?" Harvey asked, gesturing to her goggles as he popped open the hatch. Connie's hand flew to her face, and she flushed when she remembered that they were still there. She tugged them up onto her forehead roughly. "Thought so."

The signal came.

Connie stuffed her fingers in her ears just in time. There was no time to talk then, because the next five minutes became a whirlwind of load, tamp, fire and repeat. Connie vainly thought of the mechanicals abovedecks, and her mind filled with ways that they could be adapted to handle this loud, sooty work.

A half smile worked its way onto her face. Doesn't matter. She wouldn't give this up for the world.

The deck pitched, and Connie caught her balance on the searing-hot metal of the cannon. She winced and pulled her hand away instantly. "Damn," she grunted. "Landed a hit."

Harvey glanced out the cannon's port. "I coulda swear by the land we destroyed it already."

"Same." Connie's ears perked up fearfully as the call came from above. "But then again, it could be a squad. A swarm. A whatever they're called when there's more than one."

"A wreck. A wreck of kraken." Harvey's mouth twitched in a wry smile. "Funny, ain't it."

Connie slid another cannonball down the barrel. "I don't think 'funny' is the word I'd use." The deck pitched again, and she stumbled over the case of black powder.

"Caution!" Harvey snapped, snatching the case out from under her feet. "There's only a wee bit le-"

But Connie didn't have time to hear that there was only a little gunpowder left. There was only time for her excited scream as kraken tentacles ripped through the walls and water engulfed them all.