Revolution

8

When they reached Scorpion, Captain O went on his knees and thanked the stars. The map was sewn to the inside of his coat, and he was aiming on memorizing all the paths that it showed to him. 

Libra drudged out of her cabin, her cheeks were hollowed and there were deep bags under her eyes. Her hair was matted with grease and stuck out in odd directions. She stumbled as she walked, loosely holding a knife. Captain O grimaced and walked to her, holding her by the shoulder.

He exhaled before speaking. "You have....caused me a lot of terror and trouble...that will stay with me, my entire accursed life." he said and Libra flinched. "But I understand that it was a mistake and...since you are duly punished....and if it means anything at all.....I forgive you."

"Also." he squeezed her shoulder. "You are not no one. You are still you, perhaps wiser and more decisive than before. And honestly," he said, looking at the dock where men in dark cloaks shifted in corners, watching them. "I would prefer a leader that is aware of her limits and accepts them. Anyone with sense would....And everyone should have the sense that you don't owe them perfection."

She perked up, but then her head bowed again.

"To be honest....I have always known this." she breathed. "But it will be a while before I accept it...I think."

Captain O had no reply. She thanked him and drudged away; drawing the attention of the shadow lurkers, but they did not bother her.

"Yikes..." someone whistled beside him. "What's up with her suddenly?"

Captain O jumped, feeling his soul wrench itself out of his body. He whipped around to find a man in coarse gray clothing standing next to him. Stumbling against the railing, he tried to keep upright. 

"Who the hell are you?"

"Hey...hey...sorry.." he held up his hands placatingly; hands that had the iron chains of manacles hanging from them. "I didn't mean to scare you." his voice broke as he giggled.

Cheeks flushing, Captain O stood up and straightened his coat. "I am-" he began, but the man pushed him away.

"Yes I know Captain, we should get moving." he said, nudging him towards the wheel. He slipped back to the boarding plank and began drawing it up. Captain O noticed a metal toolbox on the deck. He stayed, annoyed that he was once again being given commands on his own ship; when an object whizzed near his cheek and sunk itself into the mast behind him. Captain O reached for his cheek, and found blood staining his finger.

It was a grappling hook, now being put to use by the suspicious lurkers of the street. Captain O gasped and bolted towards the wheel. The man wrenched open his tool box, grabbing a match in one chained hand. Deftly, he lighted one and set the grappling hook on fire. More grappling hooks followed their fallen companions and the shadows grew closer; metal glinting in their hands. The man stepped back, took a deep breath and snapped his fingers.

The fire rose, blaring like a wall between the ship and its assaulters. Captain O did not have time to see the spectacle as he swung the ship away from the flaming dock. He glimpsed for a moment when they had almost pulled away and saw the figures jumping in the water, but in vain.

A trail of sweat rolled down his face as he eyed the man, who was settling down on the deck, legs crossed; ruffling within his tool box. It had various vials of chemicals, a small balance, tools of different shapes that Captain O did not know of and a note tucked in the deepest part of the box. The man took it out and read it once, his casual manner lifting. Then he tucked it back inside and picked a vial, looking at it curiously.