Aquaria: The Lost Fleet

II: The Salvager

Another small boat cut through the ocean far from Jasmyne Costa and Andale. This boat wasn't much bigger than than the one that carried Jasmyne Costa and her shore party from the Elation to Andale. This boat was a salvaged yacht, about 40 feet from nose to bow. But this boat had another goal. It was a salvager, big enough to carry enough rations for weeks on end in addition to the salvage it collected. However it was also very nimble, able to navigate through the crevices of inoperabel "dead" ships.However, most salvagers just tried to find anything of use in the wide open ocean to sell to the merchants of their ships. There was a team on this ship on a mission.

Paul Wake stood at the nose of the of this boat. He stared out into the open ocean, scanning every wave. He inhaled the salty air and it gave him joy. He loved the ocean. He was dressed in scuba gear. There was a slight breeze out in the open ocean today, a favorable forecast. His dark black hair lightly flowed in the breeze. His skin was bronze. He was originally pale skinned, but years and years of salvaging for the ship Glory has left him tanned. He had a light stubble growing across his chin. He tried his best to keep clean shaven, but he had given up, now on week three of his expedition. He toyed with a silver ring on his index finger given to him at a young age.

"See anything good?", his second in command, Crue Sampson, asked. "So far we've barely found anything. All shit, honestly". Crue motioned toward some pearls and a few pounds of tin piled in the corner of the ship. He was able to talk to Paul through a slat that faced the nose of the ship as he was on the helm.

"We're onto something", Paul answered.

"You've been saying we're onto something. Yet we haven't found anything", Bruce Carlyle, a fellow salvager said. He began to slowly approach Paul from behind. "You need to find something soon, Wake, or else we're turning this ship around. And I'll be happy to tell Captain Connolly you led us astray".

"Calm down", Crue warned.

"We've been going around in circles. We'll never find anything at this pace." Bruce heaved some debris out into the ocean out of frustration. "I'm tired of this shit."

"You're tired of a lot of shit Bruce", Paul said, breaking his concentration. It's not my problem. Try throwing yourself off the boat and swimming back to the Glory. That'd give us all something to watch." Paul turned back to face Bruce now. Bruce was at least four inches taller than Paul and had at least 80 pounds on him. "Try not to forget who's in charge big fella."

Gerry Leonard, the last member of the salvage team giggled. He continued to giggle until Bruce turned to eye him down.

"We're close. Keep it together team. Crue and I have been through worse." Paul was now looking back out and scanning the ocean again. "We're going to hit something big." Something glimmering not far from the boat caught Paul's attention. It looked to be some type of metallic debris. "Shift us 12 degrees south Crue."

"Say, Pauly", Gerry began. "Whatcha think we gonna find out there?"

"A bunch of shit", Bruce growled.

Paul's patience was beginning to be tested, but just ignored Bruce. "We're gonna hit something big. Too big for us to take. But we'll be able to bring the Glory to our coordinates. Glory's golden age ain't ending on my watch.

Crue began to open up a ration of bread and started chomping down. He had a large scar across his face from when he and Paul got into a mix up with some raiders on one of their first salvage trips. He wore a bandana that went over his hairline. His greasy brown hair was still draped out atop his head.

The boat continued to slightly wobble through the ocean. Paul made his way over to sit next to Crue. He reached into a cooler and pulled out a beer. On the side of the bottle was a neatly printed label called "Gutted Glory", which was brewed on their home ship, the Glory.