The Adventures of the HMS Harlot

Depravity Part 2: Otto River, Boatswain

"Watch your step and make sure you don't end up in any place that looks infected. Can't have any of that coming back on the ship with you." As if Odessa needed to give us the reminder. I mustered a good clutch of crew, pocketed the heavy coin purse Victoria gave me, and took my travelling coat out of the storage locker at the end of the bunk room before heading out. I finished the last clasp as I stepped off the gangplank and disembarked onto the long, rickety wooden walkway that extended out from the edge of the black rock. I was about halfway across, when I heard a flurry of quick steps coming up behind me. Barty threw his arm around my neck and hiccuped softly near my ear.

"Off to the pub, are we?" The infernal wolf dog was lapping at his feet, bushy tail wagging and its cold blue eyes googling its drunken master. "Care to share a pint?"

"I'm not off to the pub and I'm sure you've already had a pint on all of us as it is."

"Ah. The ale's community. I didn't take what wasn't free for all. Come on! Seymour said he'd buy a round. There could be ladies too. Beautiful women waiting for some strapping pirate to take them away from this shit hole."

"If you bring a woman onto this ship-"

"Relax. It was a joke. I'm sure she has a rundown place of her own here that would accommodate us just fine." Barty gave a hearty laugh and slapped me on the back as he went swaggering off with his dog leaping ahead of him. Ugh. The pendejo! To have such a drunk on the ship. It didn't send a good message to the crew, most of which were now eying a trip to the pub. "No drinks. We've got a job to do and plenty more tasks when we return" I shot at them.

I passed through the shaky metal archway that marked the entrance to the colony proper. If you valued the colony purely on the state of that archway alone, it would be a grimy place to be; the colony as a whole was even less. Dirt seemed to impossibly grow on every surface; vomit, piss, and questionable fluids were caked into the grout of the cobbled streets, and the patch worked walls would make even the most rundown pair of pants appear to be fashionably tailored. I, of course, descended further into the filth. Down a tight, lopsided alleyway was the courtyard I was after. A notice board was hung crookedly on the brick wall of the harbor master's station. Yellowed parchment, with what I hoped were coffee stains, had the names and assignments of each vessel in port displayed there and it also included small notes at the bottom right of the frame that had reports of other airships known to be in the area. As far as could be discerned by the untrained eye, there were no Armada ships nearby. I wouldn't chance it though. The Armada would have sent someone ahead to colonies like this to give false reports to the harbormasters to ensure secrecy. If they wanted to be known, they would make sure they were seen.....and that never meant a good thing.

I took a nail from the ground and jammed the parchment for the Harlot onto the board as well. According to Victoria, we would need more men to replace the ones I kept killing. We had decided upon a few alias ship names as well; a clever ruse lifted from the Armada. I left the notice for the HMS Diamond on the board and then headed off in the usual fashion. The harbor master was more than happy to direct us towards the Warehouse just across the way and, in quite a bit of time, the crew was loaded up with thirteen barrels of fuel for the ship and the coin purse was decidedly less heavy.

As we set off back towards the ship, I spotted a figure in a long, black coat leaning against the wall. Not much more importance to him than the hacking bundle of rags at his feet or the gangly canary salesman in front of him, yet his back was too straight. His head was tilted just enough to see us pass by and not have to move it. Out of the periphery of my eye, I could see the man step away from the wall and start to keep pace with us from the behind.

"Men, go on ahead. I have one more stop to make. And no drinks till that fuel is delivered, understand?" The crew grunted as I passed through the dank streets, trying my best to keep away from the beggars that retreated into the shadows and the thieves lurking by the stoops. The man, as I suspected, followed me. Down a crumbling set of stone steps, a skip past a few iron doors set into the rock, and down another flight of steps, I came to a small balcony bolted into the underside of the colony. From below, the sky looked beautiful and the gas lamps shimmered gracefully off of the cloud rolling by. I took a seat on the bench there and waited. After a while, the man came sliding into view and removed his hat.