The Sanders Fleet

The She-Wolf Hunts - Implied Lociet/Prinxiety

{I'm not actually 100% what this is but its definitely a Brotherband Chronicles AU kinda thing

TW: weapons, fighting, cursing, putting oneself in danger intentionally}

"They're closing in."

Logan nodded, the only indication that he had heard what Roman said. After a moment he tilted his head a little and murmured, "tell me when they close to 200."

Roman turned away and Logan glanced over his crew. They were hacking away at the splintered mast with a frenzy, trying to separate it from the rest of the ship.

"Closing." Roman said. "Not 200 yet."

"Hold."

Logan let the tiller fishtail ever so slightly. It wouldn't do much to their trajectory, and he was more focused on what his men were doing.

"250." Roman was reporting dutifully. "240. 230. 220."

Patton looked up at Logan nervously, and Logan shook his head silently.

"210. 200."

"Now." He glanced at Roman, who nodded and turned.

"DROP FREE!"

The swap took mere seconds. Virgil and Dee hauled the false mast aside, tucking it into its spot between the rowing benches. Emile and Thomas pulled the real sail up, sheeting it home with practiced efficiency.

Their little ship, moments ago looking dead in the water, shot forward with sudden grace. Logan hauled back on the tiller to start the turn.

"Fin, Virgil."

Virgil grabbed the keel fin and shoved it down into the specially designed box. Logan nodded as he felt the extra tension that allowed him to make the turn even sharper.

They whirled, nearly on the spot, and began to race towards the larger ship that had been pursuing them.

Logan smirked as he heard the cry go up on the raider's deck.

"She-wolf!"

"Start picking them off." 

Virgil stood up, planting his foot on the fin to keep it down. Dee stepped up next to him and the two brought their weapons up.

The crossbow and longbow fired almost simultaneously the first time, then Virgil kept shooting while Dee reloaded. By a pre-arranged pattern, they moved inward from opposite directions as Logan brought the ship around again.

"Grapple!" Roman barked as they came in close. Remy grabbed an oar, fitted with a large hook, and reached out.

Logan's ship was a good foot lower than the raider, but that didn't matter much. Remy was joined by Dee while Virgil kept the enemies' heads down, and the two pulled the two ships together.

"LET'S GET 'EM!" Remus screamed, hauling his battle-axe over his head and charging up over the makeshift gangplank. The others roared and followed him while Logan lashed the tiller in place.

He nodded to Dee, who was watching their deck, and grabbed his sword.

The raider was a mess. Unlike most crews, who fought in a formation for more efficiency, Logan let his team do what they wanted. They'd spread out over a ship, wreaking havoc and destroying whatever they could reach. They were very good at stepping in to help each other when needed.

Speaking of stepping in, he saw Thomas falling back and darted over to help. Wouldn't be good to lose such a talented crew member.

"Skirl." Thomas nodded when they'd dispatched the warriors he was facing.