The Adventures of the HMS Harlot

Part 2: Witherford Chesterfield, Engineer

And it had been such a lovely evening before. But now the gunfire and screaming have really killed the mood. And people, there are a lot of dead people. I suppose I could start at the beginning.

"What do you mean we are almost out of Fuel?!" Barty yelled in the voice that only one who is looking death right in the face can truly create.

"I said we were are almost out of normal fuel. I made some temporary fuel."

"MADE?! Are you insane?"

"Could be, haven't had that checked in a while. Oh! Barty do you want to go on a trip?"

"A what?"

"A trip. I know of a lovely spot, very few people have ever been there, friendly locals. It's called the SURFACE OF THE DAMNED EARTH! And Unless you want to go there I would suggest you help me keep this ship afloat."

When we eventually did land The Harlot in port Vicky gave us leave to spend the night how we wished. This was odd of her, but I trust if there was something amiss she would tell me. Having I had to give Barty more of my ale to keep him from having stroke, I figured the pub would be the best choice. That's when I saw Seymour. He always is so shy and secluded, or just doesn't want to relate with our crew.

"Eh! Seymour!"

"Aye!" He tried to not make eye contact with me. Probably thought I wouldn't keep talking to him.

"You're with me tonight."

"But the Cap..."

"I know what the captain said. I have a job for you."

"Alright." He said, grabbing his rifle.

"No weapons. Least not the big ones."

He looked almost hurt by this.

"Oh come on."

"Fine, if it's for the mission."

He is going to hate me.

"I hate you." He says over the crowd of intoxicated pub folk. 

"You need to loosen up more." I said as I handed him a pint. "Here. Drink. Live a little."

"I am perfectly alive while I have my rifle in my hand and am in my look out." He still takes the pint. Good, I thought, that's the strongest stuff they have here. Should make for a lively evening.
I was surprised to see that he could drink like I have seen no normal man drink. He could almost match me, we made a sport to it of course. As the night went on and our pockets grew lighter the pub grew more receptive. I even learned some of their songs. That's when everything went wrong.

It started with the Alarm bells. It was if a candle was snuffed by a strong wind. 

"It is your crew isn't it." The Bartender said, almost with a sigh.

"Aye, that it be." I said, picking up my last pint of ale.

"Come quietly and this doesn't have to end in bloodshed."

"Do you really think we will?" Seymour says, his tone back to stern and grim. 

"Damn." I said, taking my last drink of the evening. "This was really good ale." 

Moving faster than the bartender could react, I broke the pint against his face, feeling both glass and bone shatter from the blow. A full on brawl erupts in the Pub, the patrons were burly and fierce, but couldn't hold their liquor like two sky pirates could. 

Once the pub was in shambles and the mob more so we fully equipped ourselves with weapons that were just a moment ago used to attempt to take our life. Looking out the window we saw a large force of guards had found a way to surround the Pub and was in preparation to breach the doors. 

"What's the plan?" 

"Improvise?" I asked, knowing the answer

"Improvise." said Seymour with a smirk.

There are a few things I know for certain. I know how the Harlot flies, I know my university's name and I know that the guards were not expecting the pub to explode.

And out we flew in a frenzy of bullets and fire, cutting through the throng of guards. Keeping my pace slower than I would like so not to lose Seymour, we sped past Otto, lurking in the shadows. 

"I take it you already know." Quipped Otto. I chuckled at this.

"Don't be a smart ass and help cover us!" fired back Seymour. My chuckling became louder.
This chuckling was cut off by a storm of gunfire. We returned fire with our own, I having my repeater pistols was able to tear into their battle lines. We had to make it back to the ship and fast. I could see something was worrying Otto....that is never a good sign.

The burning Windmill was an interesting touch, not sure why Odessa and Ethel needed such an entrance, But I was happy for the respite from the gunfire. If only because of the burning wreckage. That's when Vicky raced past us...but something was odd about her... at the time I could not figure what it was.

Otto and I were the last to go on board, being provided cover by Seymour, now reunited with his beloved rifle. Now on board I was able to see what it was that was different about Vicky: she had... tears in her eyes? Perhaps it was the ale, and the bloodshed and having used some of my serum on the fuel. But the moment I saw those tears I felt my blood boil... I could feel my Bones begin to snap as my muscles began to flex uncontrollably. I turned towards the only thing I could see as responsible....the town, and perhaps the guards. I leapt from the ship. My blades in hand.

What happened next is a blur or screams and fighting. One moment I am cutting through a man as if he were made of butter, the next I am shattering a rifle with the force of impact.

When I come too Vicky is standing across to me on a ruined port, bodies guards are running for their lives.

"Witherford. You there?"

"Aye....Captain."

"What the hell happened?"

"Got a little carried away"

"You do that again and I'll have you tied to the anchor."

"Aye captain, you may want to do that now."

"No time for that, we need to leave now."

That's when I saw it, and my heart stopped for the first time in a long time 

"Captain, we have to move fast."

"That's what I said."

"Look"I pointed to sky. There it was, the damned ship that split the clouds and could crack the Earth itself in two.

The Gabriel

This signature signifies that I still live and breathe,
Witherford Chesterfield III