The Adventures of the HMS Harlot

Part 1: Ethel Blay, Navigator

The storm came out of nowhere. Damn. The skies were supposed to be clear this time of year, yet here was the Harlot and its crew being tossed around like the last swill in a drunkard's tankard. But this was where Captain Victoria wanted her crew: storm or no storm, these were ideal skies to pick fights with Armada scum. As I wrestled with a map, which depicted weather patterns of the northwestern quadrant of the Monarchy, fighting against whipping winds to pin it to the rail in front of me, Odessa Ashmore came up behind me. The Harlot's first mate was drenched from head to toe having been out on the deck working to make sure the crew did their part keeping the ship afloat.

Being out on the open deck in this weather was miserable. The combination of high winds and rain slicked wood was causing members of the crew to slide into rails and cling for dear life, as they nearly went over the side. I saw this storm turn young Eldon into a less than effective sail and try to send Seymour overboard before Connor snatched him up just in time. Odessa herself nearly took a plunge to the Down Below until the captain and I caught her. The tough little thing recovered quickly, though. She was lucky. Unlike the crewman, who would go toppling over the side only few minutes later, though, that was less the work of nature's tempest and more the doing of Otto's temper. Poor sod.

After being properly scolded by the captain for nearly taking a dive, Odessa was at my rail helping hold down one side of my disobedient map.

"How can I help?" She asked.

"I need my satchel with my tools" I responded after a moment's pause. "Otherwise we will never get out of this safely."

I'll admit that was a bit dramatic, but it worked and off she went, shouting for someone down below to fetch her my tools.

Confession time. I didn't need my tools, or my map. A map cannot navigate a ship through a storm. There are

maps and charts that predict weather cycles in certain skies, but once you're in the brunt of things it's too late for estimations. And by God were we in the brunt of things.

No. All my maps and I could do at this point was stall. The idea was to keep people, Odessa, Otto, the captain, and anybody else who might cause a scene, busy helping me "navigate" while Roy got us the hell out of this storm. I haven't known Roy for very long, but since he's come aboard, he's proven himself more than capable of piloting the Harlot.

A sudden crack of lightning lit up the sky and with it appeared the captain. Victoria helped me hold down my obstinate map and asked where my tools were.

"I keep my good tools near my bunk. I have Witherford looking after my backups! Odessa is getting them".

Then as if I had summoned her, Odessa was by my side, satchel in hand.

"Is this the satchel?" She asked.

"I hope so" I told her, taking the very damp bundle. She nodded before returning to the deck to tell Otto off for mishandling members of the crew. There were enough matters to worry about today without him taking his foul mood out on anyone who happened to look at him wrong. Matters that, apparently, involved our quartermaster Bartholomew Jones donning a terrifying gas mask.

There was so much chaos aboard the ship so I took a moment and looked out to the sky. Open skies can clear my mind and rest my nerves better than anything but, at that moment, all I got was a face full of rain. As I squinted out past the deck into miles of thick grey clouds, I could foresee only one chance of the Harlot getting through this storm unscathed- and there it was!!

I looked back to Roy at the helm to see if he too saw the opening the shifting clouds had given us. I watched him alter our course, aiming the Harlot at the narrow, glorious patch of blue sky. We accelerated and rushed through walls of thick clouds, dodging splintering lightning until, finally, the Harlot shot up and above the clouds into open air, leaving the menacing storm below us. See? More than capable.

I was so absorbed in watching the sky race by that it took me a while to bring myself back to the havoc on deck. I shook my head to clear it, while Victoria was wrapping up a conversation with Barty about a fire of some sort. They went to deal with that leaving me with my sopping satchel and equally wet tools. I dried them off with a mild irritation building. This is how shiny things rust!

"I wish I could navigate the skies as easily as you can" Odessa said, which startled me, mainly because I hadn't realized she was there, but also because, and maybe I was reading the room wrong but, this seemed an odd time to discuss personal ambitions.

I responded in the way I know best; a great big smile. "It takes years of practice."

She sighed and said, "My world used to be so small before joining the crew," more to herself than to me I think.

Having dried all of my tools, I removed my glasses and began clearing the mist from the lenses. I had to be delicate here knowing that engaging with Odessa on a personal level was a risk.

"You hardly ever talk about your past," which was true for everyone on this ship, myself included. We all have our reasons for choosing a life of piracy, just as we all had lives before the Harlot, and there are brief moments on board where you can catch a glimpse of what lies beneath your crew mate's facade.

Her response was a terse "Nothing worth talking about," which let me know this particular brief moment was over.

"Odessa..." I wanted to assure her that she could talk when she was ready but was cut off by a command from the captain.

"Everyone else," she shouted to an attentive crew "Prepare to board!"

I'll admit I was confused. Board what? It turns out that while I was lost in the skies, Seymour spotted an Armada merchant ship through the storm and it was time now to do what we do best; rob them blind.

As Roy moved us toward the enemy ship, the rest of the crew prepared for battle. Barty and Sydney were handing out weapons on the main deck. I went over to Sydney and accepted two swords from him, one from his human hand and one from his mechanical one, and went to fall in line behind the captain. As I did, I passed Eldon as he slumped below deck with Rowena. Poor lad. All he wants to do is his part and fight like the rest but he's stuck being watched like a pup by the good doctor.

We charged on the captain's orders. "Take everything! Bleed her dry!"

From there, things happened as usual. Individually, everyone in the crew was a strong fighter; together we made quite the menacing force. We easily overpowered the crew of merchant ship, took from them all we needed, and cleared the way for Captain Victoria Neckett to prove once more that she's the most fearless captain in the skies. There was one unnecessary Armada death, but that's how she captains. Anything to show that Captain Victoria Neckett shows no mercy! No forgiveness! That there is no God in the skies, only your captain! She is definitely one for theatrics, but it's worked so far. We're all alive, aren't we?

We had to take on one last storm before the day was through. Back on the Harlot, Victoria, Odessa, Otto, Roy, Witherford, and I met to discuss plans for docking and refueling. I suggested we fly east to an old Union colony and was immediately shut down. Nothing out of the ordinary. The Harlot flies on the captain's whim. Roy then took it upon himself to suggest docking in a Monarch colony, which was fine and dandy until he tacked on some insinuations about our captain's less than pleasant history with the monarchy. Never a good idea.

Victoria went off about his "insubordination" and how he "holds no rank here" topped it all off with threats to "slit his throat." I had to roll my eyes at how dramatic it all was. It's a waste of energy fighting each other when there are enough people who want to fight us out in the skies; and enough skies for there to be no point in fighting at all.

Ethel Blay