The Adventures of the HMS Harlot

Part 6: Ethel Blay, Navigator

Fuck these fucking barrels, the fucking round bastards.

Getting the kegs of gunpowder back to the Harlot was a tricky combination of keeping up with my barrel as it careened down trash laden colony streets; not getting in the way of Victoria, Witherford, or their respective barrels; keeping my barrel from smashing, spilling and, ruining everything; and, of course, not getting shot.

But God was it fun!

The Harlot was in full escape mode as soon as we stepped foot on board with our haul in tow. Otto, Odessa and the Captain all began shouting orders to get us in the air as soon as possible. Since the alarms were sounded we were sure to be pursued by Armada ships and we needed to get away from here and out to open sky. Witherford patted me on the shoulder and headed to his haven below deck. I knew he wouldn't say anything about my killing the Armada watchman being the cause of the alert. At least, not soberly, and what more could I ask for.

The others had also returned successfully. I saw an oddly disgruntled Eldon being consoled by Connor before he ran off to secure our newly acquired ammunition. Connor walked over to Roy, who was surprisingly chummy with Seymour. It does my heart good to see the old man make more friends, and he could do no better than those two. I took this time of chaos to grab a drink, secure the powder kegs, perch on the one I had liberated from Armada imprisonment and process.

What a night! What a heist! What fun! When the Captain suggested we roll the barrels back to the ship, I couldn't keep from smiling. It reminded me of the old days, before the Harlot, before my settling down in my shop. Of a time when I fought to survive and survived to live. Back then I got out of sticky situations however worked in the moment. It was not unlike the life I lead today, except today this "I" is part of a much bigger "we". And we are ready for anything. Even the Michael! Bring it on.

Ethel Blay