A Pirate's Life

 Episode Name:  A Pirate's Life

   Written By:  Kismet

         Cast:  Carlisle, Crayn, Donavon, Edwards, Foster, Gwen Poole, 
                Harris, Jiasha, Kismet, Leres, Nabrun, O'Rielly, 
                Prochazka, Quin, Randal, Shamash, Takamura, Torin 
                and Yama.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Kismet

     Aired On:  Mon Sep 20 00:52:10 2004

     Stardate:  54400.4

Time: Sun Sep 19 18:41:15 2004

Stardate: 54399.8

Pirates.

These treacherous waters near Madagascar are polluted with these ruffians who ransack English galleons who've recently left port baring riches from India. The West Indies Company has sent the Redoubtable under Captain Michael Edwards and his First Mate Robert Harris to insure their precious cargo reaches London safely.

Onboard this fine British vessel is the two daughters of a major shareholder in the West Indies Company, Elizabeth and Josephine Knight. Captain Edwards has been instructed to protect these fine ladies of repute for her father, Sir Alfred Knight, expects to take Elizabeth to have her first 'season' in London.

The seas are calm this day; Poseidon has been generous in ensuring no storm brews. Light winds flap against the sails drawing with it the luring salty scents. The sun smiles down upon the sailers, guiding them towards their destination.

Up in the crow's nest sits the watchful old crooner - Tom Biggins. "Captain, all's clear."

Edwards strides across the deck with purpose, as if he owns the ship. Because he's the Captain, and that's what Captains do. "All clear. Why do I have the feeling that won't last long?" he comments to nobody in particular. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with us sailing these treacherous waters with two fine, virginal ladies in our case." He clasps his hands behind his back and looks out at the sea.

*** This fellow seems to stand a few inches over six feet tall at the most, with an athletic build. It's obvious that he does what he can to take care of his body and stay in shape.

The dark blond hair on top of his head is cut short and parted on the right side. It's kept clear of his face at all times. A pair of hazel eyes tend to watch the world around him. A slightly flared nose sits in the midst of his face, above a curved mouth. Giving him a bit of a tough look is a square-jaw. His light skin is colored by the barest of tans.

A simple golden band sits on the ring finger of his left hand.

He's wearing an old-fashioned uniform, consisting of a long, navy blue coat with gold trim and buttons, over a white waistcoat with similar gold trim and buttons. The arrangement of buttons and pins on his coat indicates his rank of Captain. On his lower body is a pair of white breeches. Pulled over his feet are a good pair of leather shoes. Finally, on his head, is a tricorn hat bound in gold lace. ***

"Because, sir," Harris replies lightly from his place at the helm, "It's never that easy." To say he seems to be absolutely pleased with himself is an understatement.

. o O Harris thinks "This thing has a rudder. An honest to God -rudder-!"

. o O Harris is giddy.

***Harris Desc***

A human male, Robert stands at an inch over six feet. His build can only be described as muscular, although the word bulky cannot be ascribed to him by any means. His brown hair is cut to Starfleet regulation length, left just long enough on top to coax into a spike, and sporting sideburns fashioned into a point as was the habit of the last century. A slight scruff of whiskers can be found upon his cheeks most times, as if he shaved several hours ago but cannot be convinced to deal with them again so soon. Piercing green eyes twinkle mischeviously from under brown eyebrows, viewing the world with what appears to be perpetual amusement, and his lips tend to curve into an easy smile. A golden band, inscribed with Celtic runes that spell out the word 'destiny', rests on the fourth finger of his left hand.

He wears a navy blue coat which has tails that reach to his knees. Featured on either side of his collar is a single button, decorated with an anchor surronded by a loop of rope. The lapels are rather plain as well, featuring the same style of button (nine in all), bordered by a line of delicate white striping. Two pockets are featured, bordered in the same white and secured with three buttons, while the cuffs are secured with three buttons and offset by a stripe of white approximately three inches above the wrist.

Underneath the coat is a white waistcoat with buttons that reaches to the beginning of a pair of white breeches. The breeches cover the entirety of his legs to where they stop just above a highly-shined pair of black boots.

On his head is perched a tricorner hat, a plain blue in color.

***Harris Desc***

O'Rielly nods from his place slightly behind Edwards and Harris. "So long as our trust stays safe below."

O'Rielly is about six feet tall and appears to be fit. His body is of average size and build. On the top of his head is thick red hair that seems to stand on end about an inch and a half off of his head, but still meeting Starfleet requirements. He has small hazel colored eyes above a medium nose and a small mouth. On his chin is a red soulpatch, which is about the only other thing that distinguishes this young man. He is currently wearing what appears to be the long navy blue coat of the old British Navy. The typical white coat underneath can be slightly seen. The various buttons and flair on his uniform indicate that his is an officer. He wears the typical white pants of the day, with dark leather boots. The hat of a british naval officer rests on his head.

***End O'Rielly Description***

Crayn hears mention of the cargo and makes his way over, sword on his hip tapping against his leg as he walks. "No need to worry about that, sirs. I have two of my best men guarding them in their cabin. Nothing will come of them."

***Crayn's Desc*** A rather impressive man, He's nearly 7 feet tall and weighs 275 lbs. His blond hair is cut short, no sign of any facial hair allowed. His eyes are a palest of blue, and a sharp nose leads to a cleft chin. He seems to be wearing a crisp, fresh British Naval Uniform. The dark blue jacket with gold piping covers up the beige tunic that finds itself draped neatly over Joran's torso. He wears a pair of pristine white slacks, and underneath, matching leggins, which meet at a pair of low slung boots. A sword scabbard hangs from the left side of his belt, while a pistol and holster hang on the right.

***End Crayn's Desc***

Leres offers a bit of a smile to Edwards. "Well sir, I can assure you should we meet trouble, the guns are at ready. I just finished inspecting them. And they're prepared to my satisfaction." She then quiets and takes a look down to the guns themselves. there's a hint of pride in her look at the well maintained weapons.

Gela is a woman of above average height, a little less than six feet, with an athletic, but feminine build. She is slender, but toned...not anorexic in any way. She has enough curves in the bosom and at the hips to be feminine as well as athletic. Her limbs are long, and lean. Her face is a long oval, with high cheekbones, full lips, and a pert nose. Her eyes are large and open, but not round, with irises of a hazel hue. Her dark brown hair is short and cut in a no muss style. Her skin is tanned golden which highlights the brown spots that mark her as Trill. She has an aura of determination and energy and is more mature in action than her years. She smiles frequently, and projects a vibe of friendliness.
Her upper form is covered in a British Naval officer's uniform with white breeches, and a navy coat trimmed in red and white with brass buttons. She wears black boots that come up to the knee. She has a black belt at the waist with her weapons. She doesn't get a really flouncy hat, but she does get a black tricorn.

***End of Leres Description***

Shamash hurries up to the captains side, one step behind him and to the side. looking all attentive, eager to learn while not looking too clueless - and not to fall over his own feet by doing this.

***Shamash Dec***
This human male of about thirty standard years stands about 191cm tall. He has a brownish complexion that has a tinge of gold in it which looks a little odd in contrast to his eyes with their deep green color. He started to wear a short trimmed beard and his facial features became much more smooth over recent months and the impression of a small smile always seem to linger around his mouth.
He is wearing a dark blue overcoat of the british navy with gold buttons, yet without any epaulettes on the shoulders. Under it is a white waistcoat and the attire is completed by an also white pair of throusers and black, polished shoes.
** E O D**

Yama comes up from below deck, her hand being whipped on a piece of dirty cloth, the skirt of her dress kick out infront of her as she walks across to the captain. "All is well below, sir the men only have a few bump and bruises. " She says with a grin. "They'll think twice before knocking the sense out of each other I should imagin after the tongue lashing I gave them. "

Yama The woman before you doesn't stand too tall around 5'5", She has short raven black hair, that fall in curls around her face; some of the curls tumble down to her back, a few seem to also falls down her face, she has a soft face slightly round, with a fine cheek bones, not too thin and a rounded chin. Her eyes are the typical jet black of her race, which has long lasher that curl as much as her hair. Her eyebrows are finely shaped with a thick end lending to thinner towards her ears. Her ears don't really get too much attention, normally size. Her nose is like the rest of her round and small, sticking out upon her face with a strongHer build is small and compact with a very womanly figure, just a touch on the plump side though it wouldn't be called fat. Her neck is slender and comes down to a fine chest bones and narrow shoulders. Arms are short with little hands which have short medium thickness fingers. Not long and slender but then not short and stubby. Her hips, waist and breasts seem to be in proportion to each other making that hourglass figure most woman have to work for. Her feet are small, which end on average length legs.Yama is dressed in a fine dressed, the bodies tight to her body and laced up at the back.It's neck swoops down to just above her breasts which are squeezed together looking like they'll pop out any second now. It's a wonder woman didn't have black eyes in these days of old. The sleeves are short to allow her to work easily for she's the ships medical officer. The skirt of the dress flows down to her ankles, though now a flared as some of the more elegant dresses of the time. A pair of white ankle boots finish this outfit off. Her hair is tired back the curls bunching out in the short ponytail.

***End Yama's Description***

Josephine is not about to be locked in any ship's quarters. Even in spite of their naval-style semi-oppulence, she's hatched a plan. Rather than take the ladylike way out, and go flashing her pretty eyes and toothy smile, she's got a hair pin, knife, and sewing kit out and at the ready, dilligently trying to crack the lock that has shut a hatch to parts unknown, hidden by a tapestry. It's rusy and quite tough going. "I don't bloody care what they say. I'll not be locked away in a little room doing needlepoint my only chance, possibly ever," she notes, holding up a finger in a mind-you fashion at Nabrun, "to see a real ship from it's insides and out, because Dahddy thinks it isn't proper."

Absolutely stunning is the young Josephine. The very picture of privledged girlhood in the first flush of her season in society. She is bright-faced and elegant, just shy of six feet tall. Her bones are elegant and fragile, with sculpted cheekbones and a precise nose whose row of ridges along the bridge of her nose. She is young, not quite yet in her twenties, strong-shouldered and handsome. She is radiant, her complextion honey-toned, eyes large and hauntingwise, the colour of brandy offset with gingery lashes. Her face has been done in a vibrant, smoked pink eyeshadow that makes her warm brown eyes go deepest, darkest earth. Her long hair is a warm, spicy blonde, with a set of soft, choppy bangs swept to the side of her face and her hair has been pinned back and carefully curled into fat, sausage ringlets that fall heavy and lush on her back. She wears a pale, buff-coloured silk gown that quite enhances her bust. The fine, Chinese silk has been inlaid with lengths of only the finest Alsasce merlot-coloured lace, all the lace panelling done in a careful French style. On her throat a very simple gold crucifix with a fat, bright ruby set into it.

***End Jiasha/Josephine Description***

Speak of the devil, apparently the, ah, "cargo" from down below didn't realize she was to stay there. There's one very star-struck guard staring at her as she attempts to make good her escape to the deck. There's even a parasol in her hand. Think Kate Winslet in her last boat disaster. "Oh, thank you," she breathes, looking over at the guard, eyelashes fluttering to gale-force. The British-accent is thick enough to spread on toast and serve for breakfast. "I am just absolutely desperate for a breath of fresh air, and a little bit of sunshine. You are -such- the gentleman for accompanying us, sir." Elizabeth/Nabrun turns her attention back to her little sister and forces a sigh. "If you're quiet and ladylike, you can see the ship to your heart's content, Josephine. The captain doesn't need, or want, any little hoydens running around. Behave, or you'll get us sent back down," she murmurs, voice low, to said little sister. "Now come over here and let this nice gentleman accompany us like he said he would." The smile goes from younger-sibling tolerant to high-voltage in as long as it takes her to turn her head.

There's something about a young, beautiful woman that's just so darned attractive. This one seems to fit the bill perfectly. Long, chestnut hair is done up in an elaborate cascade of curls, one that's too casually perfect to be anything but the work of at least two maids. Hair falls past her bare shoulders in ringlets, dark against pale skin. Her face is perfectly made up with just a hint of cosmetics emphasizing the delicate structure of her cheeks and the deep green of her eyes. Her dress is one of those elaborate creations of heavy material, cinched at the bodice by an old-fashioned whale-bone corset. The off-the-shoulder style is a bit impractical, but pretty, at least. Dark gold and cream brocade cascades to the top of her slipper-clad feet, the skirt belling out in an old-fashioned style. She wears a little jewlery, just enough to distinguish her from any one of a dozen ladies on the typical street. Around her throat is a delicate cameo, held in place by a black ribbon. Her earlobes are decorated by very delicate pearl and gold teardrop earrings. The addition of dark cream lace at the bodice of her dress makes it all very proper.

***End Nabrun Description ***

Meanwhile...

Unsuspecting to the crew of the Redoubtable lurks the rascally band of pirates led by Cap'n Becka Sharpe, known more for her boot to the knee than a cutlass to your gut. She's blown many a British vessel down into Davy Jones' Locker and the bloodlust for booty hasn't been stemmed yet.

The Bravo, carrying its frayed midnight flag, a skull with two bones crossed, flaps from the crow's nest in identifying it as one of the fastest pirate ships this side of Madagascar. On the deck, the crew waits anxiously for the order to attack.

By now the Redoubtable inches into range.

In Poole's case, she -does- own her ship, but she doesn't strut so much as Edwards. Brimming with energy, she keeps a tight rein on it as she moves amongst her crew, leading from within. "That's right, mates, we take the Jewel of Andorra... we'll -all- have our own ships. Imagine that. Now add all the other booty on that ship. We'll be a fleet, the next time we make port, or my name isn't Captain Becka Sharpe." As she makes her way down the line of her ship, the vessel moves from behind the rock formation that was keeping their presence hidden. With a curl to her lip, she calls, "With their pants down, mates, with their pants down." Raising her fist, she moves back towards the helm and says, "As soon as they're within range, you may fire! Helm, bring us to their aft and port, stay with the wind! Mister Takamura, prepare boarding parties!"

***Poole Desc*** A proper pirate's hat from out of Earth's ancient past is seated squarely on this woman's head. Underneath the brim are fiery ginger-brown eyes and a smoothly tanned face, distinctive freckles scattered over her smallish nose and cheeks. Blond hair spills out from beneath the hat in the back via a pony tail, secured with a strap of leather. There is an aura of sorts about her that exudes confidence, despite her small size.

Understated extravagance and flair are the order of the day. A overcoat of fine blue fabric covers an expensive white silk blouse underneath it. The blouse, atypical for women of the era, lacks any frills. Some trousers of black fabric with red hems fall to her knee, whereupon bare leg is shown to her ankles. Some well-polished black boots keep her feet safe from the splinters on the deck. Secured about her waist is a thick black leather belt with a gold buckle, two flint-lock pistols crossed in front. On her left hip a rapier hangs.***Desc over***

"Aye aye, Cap'n." Takamura replies as he checks the weapons of his boarding party before making sure the cannoneers are ready. "Ye heard the Cap'n. We'll be rich beyond our dreams. Now prepare the boarding hooks. We're about to catch these teatasters unawares."

****Takamura Desc**** A large Japanese man about 5' 8" stands before you with his chest bare. His body is chiseled from years of constant workouts and tanned from exposure to the elements. The only thing covering him is a pair of black breeches. His handsome form, however, is blemished with various scars and polaron and disruptor splashes. His feet are coveres by simple brown leather shoes. His ebony locks drape over his shoulders, emerging from a red bandana covering his head. Around his neck hangs a silver chain with a small charm on it. A wide leather belt encircles his waist with a knife on one side, a cutlass dangling from the other and a pair of pistols tucked inside. A pair of of intense brown eyes scan the area around him, not missing many details. ****End Desc****

Randal climbs down out of the rigging, swinging down onto the deck. Peering across the ocean expanse as their mark looms into view, he comments, "Aye... my blade's been thirtin' for the taste o' blood." A hand wraps around the hilt of his cutlass. "And there'll be plenty to drink o'er there, I'm sure." He grins in a sharkish manner.

***Randal Desc***
At first glance, this Human looks to be a youth. His stature is short, almost comparable to a Ferengi's, with only a hint of athleticism in his build. His thin, handsome face ends in a chin that points slightly, while his eyes contain a splash of muted blue. However, there are definite signs that he is older than he first appears: wrinkle lines have begun to set in at the corners of his eyes, and the shading of whiskers covers his unshaven cheeks. In particular, his hands appear to be calloused, a sign that this man has had his fair share of manual work. His dirty blond hair has been cut and styled in a short, unassuming fashion. Even when speaking softly, his baritone voice seems to cut the air with its edge.
The dirty white shirt that he is wearing might at one time have been considered fancy dress, although now it is torn in places and stained with grease and blood in others. A vest covered in patchwork has been thrown over the shirt, as well as a bandolier for the sheathed cutlass at his hip. His legs are covered by a pair of faded brown pantaloons and dirty white stockings. He also wears a pair of leather shoes which look like they're ready to fall apart, except for the fact that the buckles are susprisingly shiny and new-looking.
***End Desc***

Torin rests easy behind the tiller. He turns the ship carefully. Working the ship through the waves, testing it with the sail power. He nods, "Aye cap'n aye. Aft and port, we goes!" He lolls out leaning into the large wheel to turn the rudder, bringing the ship in how he's told. He cranes his neck, tilting this way and that as needed. The lazy grin of excitement as he feels the ship turn under him, eyes casting out for the sign of their target.

***Torin's Description*** A lightly built young man, dark brown eyes, his face is sharped perhaps slightly weasly. His eyes might seem slightly distracted as if thinking of something else. His complexion is a dark brown obviously of some Middle Eastern or Indian descent. His body build is fairly large but not muscled, not obese he's trim obviously keeps in shape, but obviously more just from work than any actual training. A loose and easy garb covers the young man today. He wears a serviceable gray tunic tossed over a pair of tight pants. The pants tight enough to make sure they don't catch on any spare rigging. The shirt on the other hand loose enough to be useable for other purposes. He keeps a light sash along his waist tied off, tucked into it is a medium sized curved dagger. On his head covering his brow is a proper cloth and bandana keeping sweat out of his eyes and helping keep him cool.

***End Desc***

Leaning a bit over one of the guns, as he looks out over the sea, Prochazka lazily gets back to a standing position. "Hooks will be ready," he says, adding, "Those stupid English will not know what hit them." And he keeps his eyes out there, idly drawing his knife and running a thumb over the edge. "No they won't."

***The ProchazkaDesc***He seems to be somewhere in his twenties, and stands about six feet. He's well exercised, and has dark hair a bit wildly atop his head. His eyes are of a green color, and seems to be narrowed slightly, most of the time. He is curretly dressed in a pair of brown breeches, and a red and white striped shirt. He wears light boots on his feet, and has a bandana tied around his head, holding the hair down. From the leather belt around his waist, a knife and a longer blade is hanging.***Desc Ending***

Up in the crow's nest, a redheaded young pirate with a cheap telescope searches the horizon for potential reinforcements to the teataster's ship. Carlisle isn't especially visible to anyone, but a specialist whistle hangs on a cord around her neck, ready to alert the pirates below to the potential need to break and run.

***Carlisle Desc*** Carlisle is a human woman, with, as the poet says, a 'lean and hungry look'. Wildly untamed red hair flies around an angular face, and gets into blue-grey eyes. Her nose is thin, short, and freckled, above thin lips. her body, also, is lean and angular. She's wearing loose canvas pants that were once white, a loose shirt the same colour in a lighter fabric, and a sash around her waist. The sash is dark green, and is matched by a neckerchief. Instead of shoes, she wears rope-soled canvas 'socks'. A weapons belt around her waist holds pistols and a wicked-looking sword. She has a lean and hungry look: such women are dangerous.*** EOD ***

In fine pirate fashion Merric shouts a hearty "YARR!!" as he runs to the side of the ship where he arms himself with one of the boarding hooks. His muscles knot in anticipation, they twitch with adrenaline, as he waits for the order to board the other ship.

**Quin**
Blue-grey eyes, turbulent like the sea itself, reflect a soul that has seen far more than it should have. Aged beyond his years, this mans eyes yet still contains a glint of the innocence and wonder of a child. Slightly upturned at the corners, his mouth retains a warm, relaxed expression; two dimples ever ready to make their presence known when he bestows a smile upon the world. Handsome, if boyishly so, he is full of the energy of youth, tempered by experience.
His sandy blonde hair has been hidden away under a faded cotton black bandana. A quite visible a thin line of spots trails along his hairline and on down his body. His chest is exposed to the elements, the spots play host to a myriad of archaically drawn images of large breasted scantly clad women. Completing the cliché on his left arm is tattoo of word Mother circumscribed in a heart. Merric stands just over 6-feet, his form kept in shape by constant exercise. His muscles are corded, but not bulky, giving him giving him a lithe appearance.
He is otherwise clad in a pair of loose sub-comfortable, burlap looking, breaches held up with a bit of rope, which may have been salvaged from the ship he sails on. Obviously without fashion sense, he feels no remorse by completing the outfit with a set of what looks like rather new boots liberated from the Royal Navy.

Armed to the nine this rouge has a long knife and a cutlass tucked into his rope and two dagger handles protrude from his boots.
**End Quin**

Back on the Redoubtable....Tom Biggins old knees click and clack, dem bones shaking furiously. "Cap..Cap…CAPTAIN! It's PIIIRRRAAAATTEEES!" The telescope tumbles out of his hands, falling til it hits the deck. His achy and wrinkled hands reach for his whistle, raising the alarm. The Bravo has the wind on her side as it flies across the seas. Boarding is eminent.

Edwards nods vaguely at his assorted officers when they reply to him or state things. Yes, of course he's paying attention. Right? Well, when the pirate call goes out, there's no doubt about it. "Pirates!" he echoes. "We'll teach those scallywags a lesson!" He looks around at his crew. "Battlestations! Ready the cannons! Pick up that telescope, so nobody trips over it!"

Jiasha tilts her head to one side. What's all that commotion. Pirates? PIRATES! With a head full of boy's books about the high seas, Jo has it in her to be quite... spunky. When she wants to be. And fast, apparently, too. She darts out and through, dodging a guard to two just to catch a glimpse of the glo-oooorious adventure.

"They picked a bloody fine time to come calling," Harris mutters as he spins the wheel. "Coming right to zero-nine-seven. There's a sandbar there, I'll skirt around to see if we can get them to sail straight into it, sir!"

Leres heads from the powwow toward the guns with an "Aye, sir." Once she reaches the crew she begins shouting orders. "GUNNERS! I want those guns loaded and ready at the Captain's order." She adds, "I don't want to see any mess, no spilled powder. You are not to fire until you receive orders! I repeat hold your fire until you receive orders. The gunner that manages to shoot those bloody pirates out of the water gets a bonus from me!"

O'Rielly rushes to pick up the telescope. Not really being the fighter type, he does pull out a roll of parchment from his bag and starts to look over it.

Nabrun pales at the mention of pirates from the guards and she lifts up her skirts, pushing past the two you, slightly baffled looking men. "JOSEPHINE AMELIA KNIGHT!" she calls. "Get BACK here! Ladies don't run! And they certainly don't run to pirates!" She's doing a good job of a) running and b) running -toward- the pirates, clearly concerned for her sister. The two guards make a couple ineffectual grabs at Elizabeth, but end up following her, both chattering in an attempt to talk her back belowdecks.

. o O Jiasha feels all at once silly, for carrying on in games like her children, at quite.. liberated. This sort of adventuresome, devil-may-care action kindles a smouldering little spark of wily bravado that burned for a long time in her belly.

Crayn notices the ineptitude of his 'two best men.' He growls at the both of them.. "You buffoons!! Get them both below decks -now-!! or by god, you're going to wish the pirates will -kill- you!" He gathers up the rest of his men quickly, arming them. "I want each one of those slimey bastards to be met with a shot in the eye and a blade in the gut!!" He instructs them..

. o O Harris thinks "Whoever they have driving their barge isn't as good as me... and that's our strength."

"Aye, Sir!", comes the Middies answer, with a little added flustering to keep in tune with the junior posting as Shamash scuttles belowdecks to take up his position at the starbord bow on the gun deck.

. o O Harris fills with pride.

<CONTEST> Quin contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

<CONTEST> Randal contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Prochazka contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

. o O Nabrun thinks "This is FUN."

. o O Takamura feels exhiliration at this adventure.

. o O Leres thinks "HA! Explosions. BOOM!"

. o O Gwen Poole thinks "Edwards butt has my boot's name on it."

. o O Takamura thinks "This should be a lot of fun. Not too much different from other boarding actions I've done."

Back on the Bravo...

Getting ready by one of the big guns, Prochazka hurries to prepare the gun for firing, and fires it off, but doesn't have the right range, and lets out a long and loud round of swear words, as he begins preparing for the next round of fire.

"Wooo!" This is the war cry let out by Randal as shot from his cannon goes hurtling toward the Redoubtable. "Have at ye, dogs!" He does cut the cheering short, however, as he moves to prime the cannon for another shot.

Quin thinks a moment about the risk of trying to take out the sail at this range, he grins to himself, deciding the potentially lost shot is worth crippling the enemy vessel. Without any further hesitation he aims and fires high mid ship watching the shot fly wide. He shouts "Blast!!" as he begins to reload the cannon

Carlisle's telescope moves as she searches the horizon, and then the more local area. Suddenly a complicated set of whistles can be heard from the pirate ship's crow's nest - some sort of coded message, presumably.

Takamura grasps a line to hang onto as he watches the cannons fire on the English dogs. "Arrrghh! Let them have at!" He hollers above the roar of the cannons. The wind catches his mane as he stands ready to begin the boarding.

"Aim for their main mast, cripple them!" Poole orders as she moves back down towards the guns, just in time to hear Carlisle's warning from above, "Is that their game?" She looks out over the water and calls out orders to the helm, "Turnabout is fair play. Drive them into the sand!"

Torin picks the craft's way across the sea. As the rapport of cannonfire begins he holds the craft steady under the bucking fire. He waits for the broadside barrage to finish then brings the craft up to begin putting to closing the distance faster on Her Majesty's craft. He listens to the messages, and nods, "Aye aye, cap. Les show these parky bastids whose whaters they be in." He grunts as he turns the wheel and tries to guide the ship into the Captain's orders to pressure the other craft into the sand.

. o O Carlisle is alarmed when she sees the sandbar, but only mildly. Alerting the captain clears the alarm, and she returns to her work.

<CONTEST> Torin contests his Vehicle Operations (Water Craft) skill vs Harris's Vehicle Operations (Water Craft) skill and Fails!

Sprays of water crash upon the Redoubtable. A British crewman loses his footing and tumbles into the sea. The last cannonball cracks into the ship's side, blasting a hole towards its bottom. By the careful guidance and quick thinking of its First Mate, the Redoubtable lurches closer to the sandbar but its movements draw its cannons away from easier firing range. The Bravo though swiftly is gaining speed, using the wind to get on top of the British vessel.

<CONTEST> Leres contests her Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> O'Rielly contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Crayn contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

. o O O'Rielly thinks "Hmmm, I don't think anybody would like it if I reprogrammed the simulation, though this isn't quite Kobayashi Maru..."

Edwards comes off his feet when the ship is hit, slamming into the deck. "Ow!" Quickly, he scrambles back to his feet, "Ah, brace for impact!" Better late than never. "If you can grab a cannon, grab it! Return fire! Sink them! Send them to Davy Jones' Locker! And someone get me a gun!" He moves to stand near the wheel, so he can brace himself against Harris, if necessary.

"Bloody hell!" Joe Knight as to say -that- to rhis whole situation. Abovedecks and wide-eyed, and turns back upn her sister, chasing her to get her back down, like a good sister would. Joe stays low, because oll her boy's books have told her to do as much. "Elizabeth mind! mind the cannons!"

"Oh, no... you do not," Harris snarls as the Bravo moves to push them into the sand. "Coming around to two-six-three, starboard cannons prepare to fire! Wait for the broadside, target masts and gun batteries!" It is the XO's job to expand on the captain's orders, after all. "And someone get me my pistol!"

. o O Harris thinks "I -hate- pirates."

And for all of her good breeding and exceptional pedigree, a little of Jo just have rubbed off on her elder sister. "Mind the bloody cannons?!" she screeches, a screech which turns into a scream of pure terror as she's thrown against one wall, parasol forgotten. "JO! Come back here!"

says Nabrun/Elizabeth.

O'Rielly rushes to one of the cannons after looking at his parchment. Not being very good, he takes one of the torches and lights the fuse. When the cannon explodes, he watches the shot fall short.

Leres follows the captain's command to fire, lurching a bit and stumbling to the guns as the ship is rocked by a hit from the other ship. She steadies herself enough to fire. She gives a kind of growl as the shot goes way wide landing in the ocean instead of hitting the pirate ship. "We can't hit something if we can't set our guns on it! Help get us a target!"

Shamash, already belowedecks, scurries deeper into the bowels of the ship to coordinate the removal of debris and of course to look officerish while trying to assess the leakage while sailors already do what they should even unsupervised.

Crayn tosses two pistols over to a soldier who in turn delivers them to the Captain and first mate. He then gets ahold of a cannon and aims, setting it off and......misses completely. He grumbles.. "That's why I'm not a damn gunner."

Explosions send ocean water to the skies, spraying and crashing down upon the ships. Clouds of smoke trail behind them, the scent of cannon fire high in the winds. The Redoubtable sets up the trap but the Bravo is far too in this game to turn away.

GAME: Torin spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Torin (claiming advantage) contests his Vehicle Operations (Water Craft) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Torin frowns as he watches the movements of the other craft. He manages to continue to pick up speed and catch up with the other craft. But he can't quite seem to get a good angle on pinning the other craft into the sand bar. On the otherhand he notes the opposing craft striving to broadside them and moves to match it. He doesn't shout, instead he just concentrates on turning the large ship.

Carlisle braces herself as the ship's movement causes the crow's nest to sway, and keeps an eye on that damn sandbar. And continues to watch for other ships.

"Better than nothing," Poole growls over towards Torin. It's a complement. No, really. "Board as we come alongside!" she shouts, digging out a pistol from her belt and moving to join the boarders herself. "Muskets and flintlocks /at the read-y/!"

. o O Gwen Poole thinks "I really need to ditch the hat, its a bit much."

Takamura cheers heartily when he spies one of their cannonballs striking the hull of their prey. "Good shooting, Mister Thorne. Keep it up." He barely flinches when an opposing ball splashes harmlessly in front of him. When the Cap'n gives her orders, the Japanese man pulls out his his pistol and readies himself to go over the top.

. o O Nabrun thinks "OUCH. That HURT!"

. o O Nabrun's dignity is more injured than anything else.

Quin draws a dagger from his boot and clutching it in his teeth he makes ready to toss his boarding line.

Randal pulls his flintlock pistol from under his vest. Stooping a bit behind the railing to give himself cover and bracing, he readies a shot as the ships come alongside. "Aye. This is where the real fun begins." He scans the deck of the opposing ship, looking for a good target when the time to attack draws nigh.

Prochazka places his knife in one hand, and draws the longer blade to hold in the other hand, as he gets ready for the boarding. "Come on," he mutters, as he movs forward to be ready for boarding the other ship.

. o O Randal is taking a sort of reckless joy in the simulation, in spite of the relative barbarism of the time period.

. o O Randal thinks "After all, it isn't /real/ blood."

It is clear the Bravo means to board and the Redoubtable has little time to spare. Due to its First Mate, the British vessel is now broadside and its cannons gleam directly at the pirate ship.

GAME: Crayn spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Crayn (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

<CONTEST> Crayn (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

GAME: Leres spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Leres (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

<CONTEST> Leres (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

GAME: O'Rielly spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> O'Rielly (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

<CONTEST> O'Rielly (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

Sneering, eyes narrowed and she is ready. Josephine clambors on her hands and knees, and steals the rapier right off the body of a fallen crewman, shouting, "Elizabeth! On the ready!" She is soon crawling back, scrambling with a knife between her teeth, another stolen from another lost soul along the way, held tight in her fist. Hot.

Elizabeth eyes her sister with something akin to horror and shakes her head. "A weapon," she tells the guard nearest her. "I need a weapon." The poor man shrugs and hands over a knife, his rapier already at the ready. "Get behind me, m'lady! I'll protect you!" He starts to push Elizabeth back, and oddly enough, she goes, holding the knife out in front of her, attempting to keep an eye on Josephine.

O'Rielly lights the torch of another cannon once his ship has the chance for a broadside. He quickly runs to the one next to him and lights it as well. He watches as the first cannon shot still misses, but holds onto the second cannon as it fires, and watches its shot impact the pirate vessel.

As the boats maneuver, more shots are readied by the crew. Leres with a lit torch in hand fires the first shot, again missing wide of the pirate vessel. She gives a growl in frustration and yells at the second gun, "You better not miss this time you bloody hunk of junk or you'll be rusting at the bottom of the ocean!" She touches her torch to the fuse and watches the shot sail off at the opposing ship, obviously not missing this time. "HA! Take that pirate scum!" She takes only a moment for celebration before she's back busy at the guns again.

Edwards checks out the pistol that he's been handed. "I hope this thing is loaded." he comments. "Hey!" he shouts, noticing the women getting all riled. "If you ladies can fight, all the better!" He turns his attention to the oncoming ship, and watches it get blasted. "Yes! That's better! Now let's see if they still want a piece of us! Prepare to repel any boarding parties!"

"Small arms on deck! Primary objectives are officers and targets of opportunity!" Harris calls as he releases the wheel and checks his pistol, preparing to defend the poop deck. "Capital work, gunners! Let's show these pirate dogs the mettle of His Majesty's Royal Navy!" To emphasize that point, the hammer of his ancient pistol draws back with a click, and he gets ready to blast some pirates.

. o O Harris thinks "Bring it on. I've got this... gun. Of sorts."

Crayn growls as he misses again. "Dammit.." he doesn't care about the ship. He wants them on baord so he can slice them to pieces and feed them to the sharks.

. o O Leres thinks "I hit the other boat. Alright. Now let's see if we can sink 'em."

Out of sight, the Middie Shamash just finished patching up HM ship and ushers the able seamen that helped him up with him. Fumbling with his sabre, he again tries to look his part, an older gentleman posting to be a junger gent posting to be an older gent posi.. you get the idea.

. o O Leres is very competitive and feels part of the 'fun' is winning.

Cannons explode, shots burst from the Redoubtable for certainly making multiple impacts into the Bravo's hull. Wood splinters in all directions. She'll soon be gutted if the pirate crew doesn't board quickly.

<PROVE> Takamura has the merit of Athletic Ability at 2.

<CONTEST> Takamura (claiming advantage) contests his Athletics (Rope Swinging) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Gwen Poole contests her Athletics (Rope Swinging) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Randal contests his Athletics (Rope Swinging) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Prochazka contests his Athletics (Rope Swinging) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Quin contests his Athletics (Rope Swinging) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Torin contests his Athletics (Rope Swinging) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Poole grips her pistol in one hand and grabs a boarding rope with the other. With nary a moment's hesitation, she swings out over the water, shouting at the top of her lungs, "HUUUUZZAAAAAAAAH!" And miracles of miracles, she lands on her feet, and goes into a crouch, bringing her pistol to bear.

Foster has arrived.

Quin tosses his boarding line over to the other ship, catching it on the rail he ties it tightly to his own ship before grabbing a near by rope. With a muffled war cry he grabs the rope, runs back on his deck a bit for momentum and swings over to the opposing vessel, dagger still clenched between his teeth.

Takamura holds onto his boarding rope as the ship shakes with the explosion of cannonballs. With a mighty leap, he swings across the divide and onto the Redoubtable, pistol in hand. Once on the deck, he releases the rope and draws his cutlass. "Surrender your booty, you scurvy dogs."

The force of the Redoubtable's cannon barrage against the ship knocks Randal back, his pistol dropping from his hand and clatter across the deck. With muttered epithets about 'scurvy' this and 'land-lubbering' that, Randal jumps to his feet and grabs a dangling rope. Leaping over the rail, he swings across the gulf between the decks. Landing on his feet, he promptly draws his cutlass and smirks. "So, who wants a taste of me blade?"

Torin glance towards one of the deckmates and slaps 'em on the shoulder, "Oye, if they try and break free keep us with 'em laddie." He grins and then turns and makes a running start tossing his own rope and grins, "Come on, ye, damned redcoats. Time ta meet yer betters." He lifts his knife in his off hand as he grabs the rope and swings over onto the opposing ship with a laugh, "Ai-Ai-Ai." He ululates crashing onto the deck eyes flickering around for a target. "I's don't suppose any of ye want to surrender?" He offers to those nearest him with a sly smirk.

With the long blade in one hand, Prochazka places the knife he had in the other between his teeth, as he grabs hold of his rope and swings himself over, landing a bit unsteadily. Crouching, he quickly regains his balance, and moves his knife into his hands again. "Ah, come on, then."

Carlisle grabs the edge of the crow's nest, dropping her telescope as she does so - fortunately, it's on a cord. Damn cannon shots. Damn Brits. Once she's stable again, she draws a pistol and takes a lead on one of the cannoneers - Leres. Of course. Fires.

GAME: Carlisle spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Carlisle contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Leres's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Melee! Pirates swing like monkeys from the Bravo. Return fire from the British manage to knock some of the drunks into the waters below. Cutlasses swipe at the forefront, tossing a couple British crewman, as well, to the ocean.

"Captain Sharpe!" Edwards cries out, noticing ye olde Poole when she lands. He strides forward, in her direction. "We meet again, for the first time!" What? "You won't be plundering our booty!" With that said, he aims his pistol and takes a shot at her.

<CONTEST> Edwards contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Gwen Poole's Dodge skill and Fails!

Shamash brandishes his saber, shouting "For the King!" before joining the fighting and being prepared to continue to the end.

Harris draws a bead on Tak as he swings, waiting for him to hit the deck. "You pirate scum," he sneers, keeping a stiff upper lip as he fires.

Bringing knives to the proverbial gunfight, Josephine offers the sage advice to her long-suffering sister, "I don't even know how to clean a chicken. Let's us wait until we need to use these."

Elizabeth scrambles over to her sister's side, darting around the guard. "Can't we just talk to them?" she hisses. "They can't ALL be savages, can they?" Of course, there's a twinkle in her eyes. "Come back, let us hide until they are gone. Ladies don't gut pirates like fish. It's not proper!"

<CONTEST> Leres (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

O'Rielly, being a purser, knows the value of the situation. He pulls out his pistol, but doesn't choose to fire yet. In fact, he's backed up to another cannon that's been loaded and his torch goes down to the fuse. Oops.

. o O Takamura thinks "Ahh. Now the real fun begins."

Crayn primes himself for defense. "None of you are getting -near- my booty, dammit!" Well, except for maybe the doctor. He rsuhses towards the crowd, sword in one hand and pistol in the other.

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> O'Rielly (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Dramatically Fails!

Leres gets one more shot off and is tossing the torch overboard as Carlisle's shot hits her in the left shoulder. She lets out a yell at the hit, forgetting for a moment that it isn't real. It sure looks real. There's a hole in her coat, blood and everything.

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Takamura's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!

"Elizebeth, now, really." Josephine tsks, "There's canonballs and seawater in your bedroom. We're staying above."

. o O Jiasha is having a hard time not giggling at Nabrun.

. o O Nabrun is having the time of her life playing this role, and is rather enjoying getting into it. There's exhileration and adrenaline as well as the out and out joy.

. o O Leres thinks "Damn you, Christine Carlisle! I'll get you back for this. Next time we go climbing in a sim I'm shoving you down the mountain. Or better yet, I'm going to feed you ten pounds of laxative."

Yama seems to be everwhere at once, as she dodges cannonballs and pirate trying to get to the injuried. "Oh blamey. " She mutters kneeing down to tend to a mans arms half blown off. She grabs at a gun to shoot behind her at some no name random pirate as she tighens the bandage.

One thing that went unnoticed as that the cannon became misalligned before O'Rielly lit the fuse. So when said cannon fires, and the chamber is blocked, the result ends up being that the cannon explodes! What's left of the cannon flies back into the mast, completely obliterating the support for the mast, which promptly starts to crash to the deck. O'Rielly himself is burned badly as he's thrown back into Leres.

<CONTEST> Yama contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

. o O Carlisle thinks "GELA! No... It's just a hologram. It's just a hologram. She's not really hurt. It's just a hologram. I didn't hurt my best friend. It looks so real..... Oh no! GELA! Don't be hurt! GELA!"

Nabrun tries to tug at Josephine's sleeve, but she's shaking too hard. "I've never used a knife before in my LIFE, Josephine Amelia. What do you expect me to do with this? Hmm? If you're injured, Father will lock us both away in a convent!

Jiasha says, "I'd sooner try to do -something- than go back down to drown quietly. You'll just have to pake do, pretend like you know what you're doing. It got me through finishing school, didn't it?" Well. -One- pretty little alien certainly did their homework on period history."

Tom Biggins, frightened for his life, fires down upon the pirates. Course the jolt of the shot goes wide, but oddly strikes a pirate who tumbles off the Redoubtable's deck.

Poole leers at Edwards as he takes his shot, her lip curling as his shot goes wide. "Your aim is impeccable as always, -sir-." She raises her own weapon to bear on him, and brings out her other flintlock, aiming both weapons at the man and firing.

Edwards' and Harris' shots miss their opponents, zipping past the pirate officers yet lodge those bullets to straggling pirates.

GAME: Gwen Poole spends a courage point.

. o O Leres thinks "Next time I wanna be a pirate. They get all the best lines. Though Harris did say poop deck. Heh. Poop deck."

Takamura sidesteps as Harris lowers his pistol at the bare-chested pirate. "You with have to try better than that you English dandy." And with that he takes aim at the helmsman with his own pistol.

<PROVE> Takamura has the merit of Battle-hardened at 3.

. o O Takamura thinks "Nice try, Rob."

Randal steps quickly away from the mast as it begins to crumple under the unfortunate misfire. He peers around the deck until his gaze falls upon Josephine and Elizabeth. "Ah.... pretties." He starts to make his way across the deck with sword at the ready, skipping in a way that's half combat stance, half jig as he approaches the two ladies. Provided he isn't intercepted along the way, at any rate.

<CONTEST> Gwen Poole (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Edwards's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Gwen Poole (claiming disadvantage) contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Edwards's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Torin grins across the deck of the enemy craft. He keeps his knife in his off-hand. He allows it to deflect a few daggers or knives. He fights mostly with his feet and fists, rather than the blade. Tripping and punching and shoving people off where he can. He grins as he finds himself a good target, "Aha are we not, redcoat?" He smirks at Crayn and tries to get close enough to kick at Crayn and knock him off the boat.

<PROVE> Crayn has the merit of Martial Artist at 2.

Prochazka looks around as well, and sees Torin moving for the read-coated Crayn. He then moves in that direction as well, after stabbing for a few random Britishfolk with his knife. Who said that two against one was unfair? And he tries to slash for the red-coat with he large blade.

<CONTEST> Torin contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Crayn's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!

<CONTEST> Prochazka contests his Primitive Weaponry (Cutlass) skill vs Crayn's Dodge skill and Fails!

For whatever reason, Carlisle doesn't immediately continue to fire. Perhaps it's just that it's getting pretty crowded down there. Yes, that must be it. She spends a few moments looking down, trying to sight on someone. Hey, there's a person lying down, and another in the same uniform working next to them - that's a larger target than most. And it's still. Yama and patient. Bang.

<CONTEST> Takamura (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Harris's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Carlisle (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Edwards totally misses Poole, but does hit some random thug behind her. Recovering quickly, he remarks, "Now that I've dealt with him, it's your turn!" Of course he meant to do that. He tosses the pistol away and strides forward anew... right into two shots. Ouch. One bullet smacks into his upper left arm, and the other hits his right side, in the ribs. He grimaces, staggering back, "Damn, that hurt! Son of a..." Yet, he is the Duranium Commander! Or Captain, as the case may be. Gritting his teeth, he launches himself forward, intent on tackling Poole to the ground!

<PROVE> Edwards has the merit of Bold at 1.

<CONTEST> Edwards (claiming advantage) contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Gwen Poole's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Elizabeth straightens, moving forward to stand in front of her "little" sister, the knife held carefully. "I'll thank you, sirrah, to turn around and walk the other way," she tells Randal. Her chin is out slightly, shoulders back. She looks every inch the haughty, yet terrified, British debutante. Ok, except for that combat stance under the brocade dress and that "bring it on" look in her eyes.

Jiasha smiles, dropping the knife in her hand, with a pretty pretty smile for Randal. She coos, affectionnately, turning on every last watt of stunning that she has in her. "My, have you come to rescue us?"

Harris takes the ball in the shoulder, falling back against the wheel for a moment with a slack look in his eyes. He might be dead. Who knows?

. o O Jiasha has... a plan.

Leres is bumped by O'Reilly as she draws her pistol. She steps just to the side of him and using her good arm, aims her gun at Torin. She's hollering for a medic still even as she shoots. She says more quietly to O'Reilly, "You okay?"

. o O Jiasha thinks "I hope he doesn't recall that extra blade I stashed."

Crayn grins wickedly.. "So, you both want a piece of this." He chuckles after they both fail. He quickly trails his pistol onto Prochazka, squeezing of a shot, before sending a massive kick towards Torin.

Yama misses the pirate with her first shoot, she frown looking a little worried, if she doesn't move now the injured officer and her may end up being the ones shot at. With a quick survy of the area she drags her patient over to one of the life boats, hopfully there they'll be hudden hidden.

O'Rielly smiles to Leres through the burns on his face, which make a strange little crackling sound as his face muscles do move. "Yeah. I look a lot worse than I feel I think."

GAME: Leres spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Leres (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Torin's Dodge skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Crayn contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Prochazka's Dodge skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Crayn contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Torin's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

<PROVE> Crayn has the skill Athletics (Football) at least at level 0.

BOOM! SPLASH!

BOOM BOOM!

Behind the pirate crew the Bravo is being rendered apart. Piece by piece sections explode from incoming fire from what appears to be in the not so far distance - another ship!

On the deck of the Redoubtable, Tom Biggins crashes down into the galley once the main mast had fallen. The terrible shaken man jerks from his position and tries to crawl away for safety.

"Watch your language in front of a lady, /Captain/," Poole reminds Edwards when the lead shot penetrates and causes him to curse. "A proper British gentlman would ne-..." She's interrupted by Edwards's leap, unable to avoid it and going down on her back. The blonde is pinned, and not in a -good- way! Growling ferally, she brings her Knee to bear, driving it upwards.

Carlisle is jolted in the crow's nest as the ship is attacked, and spins. She looks, and starts blowing her whistle as if her life depended on it. Which, given her location, it does.

<CONTEST> Gwen Poole contests her Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill vs Edwards's Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Gwen Poole contests her Fitness (Strength) skill vs Edwards's Fitness (Vitality) skill and Fails!

As Harris falls back against the wheel, Takamura advances on the man to run him through with his cutlass for good measure. Better to leave no chance of being surprised later. "You don't fool me with your playing dead."

As he sees Crayn's pistol aiming for him, Prochazka jumps to the side, and avoids being shot. He then turns again, and attempts to slash for the Britishman again, while he has the chance.

Torin manages to miss his kick jumping across some people. Bullets lodge behind where he was, of course as he nears Crayn he's kicked back and grunts cursing, "Damn ye, purple coat." He curses expelling out a breath as he gets knocked back tumbling in a tangle with several brits, and has to spend time sorting himself out and disentangling himself from them distracted for the moment.

"So sorry, miss, I cannot oblige," Randal remarks to Elizabeth. As the guard rushes forward to engage him, Randal replies, "Mind if I cut in?" and slashes the man across torso. Eyes falling on Josephine, he grins widely. "Yes, m'lady, we've come to take you away from all o' this." He glances back to Elizabeth. "Why don't ye drop that toy o' yours, like yer companion here, before ye hurt yeself, hmm?" He raises his sword, adding a bit of physical threat to that request.

Jiasha smiles, shining brightly, lovely. She asks of Randal, "Aren't you supposed to sweep in and lend a kiss? That's what all the books say, you know."

. o O Takamura thinks "Sorry, Rob. Good thing this is only holographic."

<PROVE> Jiasha has the attribute Presence at least level 3.

<CONTEST> Prochazka contests his Primitive Weaponry (Cutlass) skill vs Crayn's Dodge skill and Fails!

<PROVE> Jiasha has the skill Charm at least at level 2.

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Takamura (claiming advantage) contests his Primitive Weaponry (Cutlass) skill vs Harris's Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill (given advantage) and Fails!

Elizabeth looks as though she's about to melt with relief. "Then you're not a pirate?" she asks, blinking at Randal. One might get the impression her lightbulb needs replacing. "Josephine! He's here to save us, dear!" Randal is gifted with a beaming smile as her hand, the one with the knife, drops and she takes a step forward.

GAME: Nabrun spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Nabrun (claiming advantage) contests her Charm skill vs Randal's Presence (Willpower) skill and Succeeds!

. o O Jiasha thinks "Come on, now, smile to the pretty pretty ladies, closer, closer."

CRACK! KABOOM!

The Bravo slowly begins to sink despite the constant whistle hails from Carlisle. If the pirate crew doesn't return in time to react to this approaching vessel, there will be no ship to take the plunder home.

A bullet whizzes between Takamura and Harris, imbedding deeply into the Redoubtable's wheel. Water drips to the deck for who fired that shot but Celtic Red herself. Donavon shakes her pistol, tsking softly, before lowering it directly to the man's head. "Takamura, long time ol' friend. Thought I left you to be gutted in Jamaica." The Pirate Queen, Cap'n of the Thorn, prowls when walking across the backside of the British vessel, boots leaving a trail of wet marks. Seems she swam from the Thorn which appears to be the one and the same that's firing on the Bravo. A red jewel dangles from her free hand, mocking Poole with it. "Sharpe, really, I must thank you for keeping these dear gentlemen occupied while I stole the Jewel of Andorra. Love to stay and chat, but I must be going after I sink both your ships into the water."

***Donavon's Description***
Fire, a mythical nymph of Ireland, has described Meg by first glance. Auburn spun tresses, a curly mass, are left wild and loose to the winds. Two amber eyes flecked with a scalding fire gaze outwardly beneath thin eyebrows. An open pearly smooth face is speckled lightly, a brush of tiny freckles over the nose. At the cleft of her chin, lifted in pride, is a jagged scar, having busted her jaw once or twice. Wisps about the ear add a glimmer to the large golden hoops earrings. Sharp lines to her cheekbones and thin smirk indicate a stubborn and fiery nature. A golden band inscribed with celtic runes meaning destiny encircles the fourth finger of her left hand. Set above the band is another golden ring with a diamond at the center flanked by a sapphire and an emerald.

The Celtic Red, known throughout the high seas, is in rare form. Her tanned neckline is revealed by a white cotton off the shoulder blouse. It bunches against her lithe, curved form, about the waist. Black leather compromises the rest of her outfit. Leather ties clench tight about her body, squeezing the very breath out of Meg for all appearances - thus is the sacrifice one makes with a corset. A ruby silk sash is weaved through belt loops with a scabbard hung off a hip. Legs, sculpted and refined, are easily seen despite the pirate wearing leather leggings. Boots reach up to the knees, cuffed, with a dagger hidden against the shin.
***End Donavon's Description***

Harris saves his strength until Tak's sword moves to turn him into a pincushion. He drops down into a sweep, allowing the sword to whistle past his head, unable to spare the time to watch Celtic Red. There are priorities, after all.

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Takamura's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!

Wham! Edwards, looming over Poole, gets a knee in an uncomfortable place. Luckily, it's not as bad as it could be. Still, he cries out in pain and rolls off the other Captain, just in time to see the arrival of that scurvy sea dog, Donavon. He lurches up to his feet as he regards her. "Not bad..." Er, wait. "I mean, you! Stop! What's that?"

Jiasha struts just that much closer to Randal, smiling, sly, lovely. "You know, I haven't ever been kissed. It's such a.. dangerous thing, this. I.. I couldn't stand to think of dying on this dreaded sea, without a single kiss." She turns her big, brown, pitieous eyes upon him.

. o O Takamura thinks "Just great stuck between a rock and a hard place."

. o O Harris thinks "-No- one shoots me. -No- one."

O'Rielly is still laying on the ground, but he still finds that his pistol remained in his hand. He looks up, raises it, and takes a shot at Prochazka.

<CONTEST> Jiasha contests her Charm skill vs Randal's Presence (Willpower) skill and Succeeds!

GAME: O'Rielly spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> O'Rielly contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Prochazka's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Leres watches Torin get his from Crayn, and turns her pistol to Randal about the time that O'Reilly shoots at Prochazka, and she fires at the pirate by the ladies. *BANG*

GAME: Leres spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Leres (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Randal's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Crayn grins as Torin's knocked down a few peg-legs. He turns as Prochazka tries to swipe at him with his sword. He pulls out his own to parry, and swing back at him.

<CONTEST> Crayn contests his Primitive Weaponry (Sword) skill vs Prochazka's Dodge skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Harris contests his Fitness (Strength) skill vs Takamura's Fitness (Vitality) skill and Fails!

"Saucy, cheating Irish /wench/," Poole crows, getting to her feet as Edwards rolls off. Her pistols fired and lost in the scuffle, she draws her rapier and advances on Donavon... but just for good measure, takes her blade and stabs at Edwards'. No one ever said Pirates played fair.

<CONTEST> Gwen Poole contests her Primitive Weaponry (Rapier) skill vs Edwards's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Takamura is knocked back into the wheel by Harris's sweep, but retains his footing. Now that Donavon's pistol isn't on his head, he draws his remaining pistol and aims pointblank at Donavon's head. Teach her to steal their booty.

With a smile and a suave tone of voice, Randal says, "That's right, me pretties... I'll do ye both the honor of a kiss, but then we really must depart." He's rather oblivious to the fact that his ship is being blown to smithereens, as it happens. Eyes closing, he first begins to lean into Josephine, eyes closing and lips pursing... and then, BANG! Leres shoots him from behind. Or rather, /in/ the behind. Startled, Randal drops his sword stumbles a bit, and then starts to fall in Elizabeth's direction. Perhaps he was hoping to take a 'heroic' fall into her arms. Unfortunately, he's a bit woozy and his aim is off. He ends up falling face-first toward her... um, corset.

Prochazka mutters some words that shouldn't be said here as he misses with the attack on Crayn. He then looks like he's ready to parry, but stumbles a few steps backwards as the shot from the pistol hits him in the ribs, and he doesn't get knocked down by the sword as well. As he stumbles backwards, he throws away the smaller knife in his other hand, aiming it in Crayn's direction, but hoping to hit something, or anything, really.

Torin pauses as he takes a sight of all that's going on, as he disentangles himself. He blinks, "Oye. Crikey! Not that damned irish-gal." He grunts as he makes a scampering way back towards his craft. He curses as he glances around at the ships sinking.

<PROVE> Donavon has the merit of Sense Of Character at 2.

Nabrun brings her arms up, as if she's going to catch Randal. Unfortunately, she's still got the knife in her hand and it's aimed for Randal's kidney-area. "I don't THINK so, sirrah," she mutters. "No one steals a kiss from my little sister."

<CONTEST> Prochazka contests his Primitive Weaponry (Dagger) skill vs Crayn's Dodge skill and Fails!

Elizabeth did that.

GAME: Nabrun spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Nabrun (claiming advantage) contests her Primitive Weaponry (Dagger) skill vs Randal's Dodge skill and Fails!

GAME: Carlisle spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Carlisle (claiming advantage) contests her Vehicle Operations (Water Craft) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Carlisle abandons her post and slides down the crow's nest ladder, first whistling, then shouting orders to the few pirates remaining on the Bravo. "You, man the bilge pump! You, get that hole patched! You lot, help me break us free." She sprints for the helm, trying to give exact directions to try to disentangle the Bravo before she goes down. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to be getting anywhere .. at least, not yet.

And as he stumbles backwards, Prochazka falls and hits his head on the mast, and he's momentarily out of the game.

GAME: Donavon spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Donavon's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!

The wily Celtic Red isn't one to be stopped so easily. "Appreciate the compliment, Sharpe. It warms this cheating pirate's heart." The jerks by Takamura then are caught out of the corner of those devious eyes just before she pulls the trigger to her pistol.

<CONTEST> Donavon contests her Projectile Weapon (Gundpowder Pistol) skill vs Takamura's Dodge skill (given advantage) and Fails!

Harris wisely uses this opportunity to crawl backward on his elbows and feet, bleeding profusely from his shoulder wound. Let the pirates kill each other.

. o O Harris thinks "Reload the pistol. Reload the pistol... where the hell's my pistol?"

"You IMBICILIC! .. augh! you might have.." She's about to give Leres a peice of her mind, when-- oh, ho! A -sword-. Thankyouverymuch. Let's all just be glad that Elizabeth has so very inviting a.. bodice. Jiasha uses this time of wooze and boobs in order attempt to relieve Randal of his big, shiny sword. And any other hurty thing her has on his wiley person.

Nooooooo! Someone will yell that, right? Because Edwards is run through by that pirate wench, Poole. He looks down at the blade penetrating his torso, and back up. "Argh." With unbelievable effort, he grasps the plade, and pulls himself off of it. Gross. Alas, it's too late. He grasps his wound and staggers back. "I think... I'm done for." he gasps out. "Harris! It's up to you! Protect the crew! And the ship! And the women!" He staggers back, lurches forward, and falls down to his knees. "I only regret that I have but one life to give my navy, and ship, and crew, and King..." He pauses. "It's a King, right?" He shakes his head and gets back into it, adding dramatically, "And my Empire." Then he keels forward. Dead.

<PROVE> Jiasha has the merit of Bold at 1.

<CONTEST> Jiasha (claiming advantage) contests her Fitness (Strength) skill vs Randal's Fitness (Strength) skill and Succeeds!

. o O Carlisle thinks "It's the King, right? Heh. Cute. So.. do I get court-martialled for abandoning my post, or go down on my ship? Er, with. Whatever. C'mon, girl, get free so we don't go down. C'mon, c'mon. How do these old things work anyway?"

You know, lying on the ground being burned has its advantages, like not being shot at. He reloads his gun from his position and takes another shot at Quin this time.

He being O'Rielly

<CONTEST> O'Rielly (claiming advantage) contests his Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Quin's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

Leres sees that Randal is still moving about. She takes the gun of a man who's down and fires at Randal again. Let them bicker over whatever Jewel. She'll help out the two ladies they're supposed to protect. Whether they like it or not. She missed Jiasha's exclamation from earlier and shouts, "Hold on, ladies. We'll try and help you out."

Crayn sees the fighting dying off. Most either passing out or dying. He makes his way over to Leres and nods, attempting to keep the ship from sinking.

"Protect the bloody ship, he says," Harris mutters as he slumps against the side of the ship, struggling to reload his pistol with shaking hands. "Protect the bloody women, he says."

<CONTEST> Leres (claiming advantage) contests her Projectile Weapon (Gunpowder Pistol) skill vs Randal's Dodge skill and Fails!

Not all pirates are intelligent. In this case, this scallywag band on the Thorn is a bunch of idiots for their last volley of cannon fire strikes true into the belly of the Bravo - straight into the armory that's loaded with gunpowder! A blaze of magnificent glory engulfs the Bravo, it exploding apart but takes the Redoubtable and everyone onboard with it! Protect the ship, indeed.

Harris pops to his feet as the simulation comes to an end in a glorious blaze of fire. "Guess I'm fired. Sorry, sir."