The Adventures of the HMS Harlot

Part 1: Witherford Chesterfield III, Engineer

The Damn Engines have blown, both of them. Of course it's both. Couldn't have the ship flying normal, that would be a luxury. Have this armada engine taken from the merchant ship as a temporary measure until we reach land and I can properly repair ours. Shit, Otto's men hooked it in wrong. I told the captain I could do it myself, she said that I couldn't lift the engine myself. Though not true, she doesn't want me losing control by using my full strength, can't say I blame her.

That's probably why she told me to let the rest of the crew fight on top and have me go through the lower decks to start work on the engine. Course I had to stop pulling it apart because of the gunshots. One shot is nothing, but two? Shit, I thought the captain missed and got hit. Even with an engine this ship is not flying without Vicky. Of course, I find that she had shot two people; one was their captain, one was a boy. I would be shocked, if the boy's death didn't affect the crew in some way, they may have committed to the ship, but I'm not sure they have the stomach for this business. That part of me died a long time ago.

I didn't even want to tell Vicky about the fuel problem. The blasted fire burned up most of it and what we have may not make it to the colony. Course I could double the fuel if I use a bit of the serum... but then I would be down a month's dose and who knows when I'll be able to restock...

Damnit. I'll take my chances. Worst comes to worst I buy some more from the black market. I still have my contacts.

Otto overlooked the repairs and noticed the modifications of the Harlots engines I built. Said it's Armada based, mixed with Monarchy refueling tech but with some mechanisms he didn't recognize. He's smart, I fear he will figure out exactly how this ship of ours work if he spends enough time down here. I like him more than most of this crew, he is a true Armada man, efficient, brutal and exceedingly intelligent. He didn't even flinch when he saw the boy's body, he may be as dead as I am, which speaks more to how rough his life must have been, as I have many years on him.

The mixture of Whiskey, Fuel, serum and a little bit of my blood is combining nicely. We should have enough now to make it to land and some over. It was the Last of my whiskey too, that means the headaches will come soon.

There's a Knock at the door, better go see who wants me to fix what.

This signature signifies that I still live and breathe,

Witherford Chesterfield III