The Admiral

Arden Lexington

As soon as I step out of my cabin, I bump into Giddeon who quickly shoots to his feet. He’s probably been out here since I locked myself in my cabin with James no doubt. I quietly close the door and eye him before putting on my boots, “How’s the boy?”

“Feverish, but no longer that ghastly shade of blue.”

“Right. Ghost Protocol, inform Captain Debang.” I leave it at that and get out of there quickly. I know Giddeon fancies me, but there’s no room for that, not here, not for me. I’ve seen some of the crew get involved in relationships over the years, for some, it works out, for others, it creates nothing but problems. It was one of the reasons it took a long time for women to be included in The Fleet, but I’m not the first female Admiral, and I won’t be the last.

I put on my jacket. It’s not as chilly as before but until the air is a balmy 20 degrees Celsius, I’m not comfortable. The Morning Star is fast, but it’ll be at least a week before we reach the Caribbean.

“So fucking cold!” I grumble as I start my search for Charlotte. When James comes around, I’ll have Charlotte take credit for warming him up. A pang of jealousy hits my gut at the idea, but I brush it off. I knew what I signed up for when I joined The Fleet.

James will recover, Thomas will get an account of what happened, maybe he can give us more insight into what kind of vessel Wyatt thought up, and then we’ll send him on his merry way with a nice compensation packet. He can live the rest of his days in luxury or rejoin another crew. If he was assigned to The Orion and it went down, we're going to need a new ship anyway with a whole new crew. Maybe I’ll make James a Captain? He doesn’t strike me as someone who would want to retire in his prime. And boy is he in his prime.

I remember him being big for his age but he’s literally the epitome of the perfect man. Blonde windswept hair, golden skin, a body the Old Gods would envy, and tempest eyes that gaze deep into your soul when he looks at you.

His gaze was always intense. James would see through all the layers I tried to shield myself in, and he slowly wore them all down over time. I let him in. Before I left the Academy he made me question a lot of my choices. No one had ever had that effect on me before, but my path of blood and revenge was already set, and I had invested too much to let it all go for a boy with nothing more concrete than if's and maybe’s.

I feel myself getting hot and bothered just thinking about James. I was so scared he’d die that I didn’t get to enjoy being pressed up against him as much as I would have liked, now it all seems to be coming down on me at once. I try to convince myself the worst is over but now he’ll have to fight whatever fever takes hold of him. Doc once said fevers affect people proportional to body mass; the bigger you are the harder they hit.

When I find Charlotte in the galley, she has the audacity to wiggle her brows at me as I approach and sit opposite her. On this ship she’s what I would consider a friend, though I can’t be too sure, I’ve never really had friends, just this crew that resembles more of a strange, deranged family that I get to boss around. It takes a certain quirk, damage, or sense of duty to become a pirate hunter. Everyone on this crew has a story of pain that led them here. Everyone but Charlotte, she’s just an extremely intelligent woman and an amazing cartographer. When the crew discovered her incredible memory for lines and shapes and said she can draw any coastline or county on command, many bets were made and lost. She made a hefty profit in just a few days.

Charlotte and I only speak in French with one another. It’s how we’ve been able to keep all of our conversations private and confidential over the years.

Cookie brings me a plate of food and I start to devour it quickly. I can’t even remember the last time I ate.

“That was very selfish of you," Charlotte pouts, "taking the Adonis to your bed without even considering your poor, thirsty, crews” she batters her gorgeous blue eyes at me, “and Giddeon sat outside your door like a forgotten little puppy.”

Charlotte isn’t subtle; she’s had a thing for Giddeon for years. Probably because he’s the one man on this ship that doesn’t fawn all over her. She certainly knows how to play the game and has a lot of the men eating out of her hand. I don’t necessarily approve of her tactics, but as long as it doesn’t affect their service then there’s no reason for me to intervene.

I wave my fork at her as I swallow, “From now on it was you who kept him warm.”

“What? Why?”

As if on cue Jack comes and informs the galley that we’re in Ghost Protocol. He nods at me in acknowledgment before going off to inform the rest of the crew.

Ghost Protocol is my favorite status to be in; it’s as if I don’t even exist. I just blend into the crew, no one calls me by my title, and I become invisible, like a ghost.

Sometimes I’ll do it for a day or two just to get a break and call it a “training exercise”. We only ever do it if a stranger is on board. Though I imagine James would recognize me, so I’ll have to wear a disguise, maybe a wig.

Just because someone is a member of The Fleet doesn’t mean they get to know everything, like the identity of the Admiral. Only the crew of the Morning Star and the Commodores know who I am. There are strict rules set in place. I don’t necessarily agree with some of them, but it’s not up to me to change centuries of a system that’s working.

Once we fine-tune the details of my disguise for while James is on board I decided to go for a climb on the rigging. It always helps me to clear my mind. To be up high and look out onto the infinite horizon helps to remind me how mortal I am and just how insignificant I am in such a vast world.

Almost any problem can be solved when you examine it from outside the situation, clear of the obstructions that might hinder the obvious path.

As soon as I make it up onto top deck, I feel just how cold it is and instantly change my mind, “Oh, fuck that. Rum it is.” I rub my hands together, turn right back around and make my way back down to the warm galley.