The Admiral

James Morgan

As I sit across from Captain Debang the crew in the galley is quiet and solemn. I was a little surprised to hear the Captain wanted us to give our accounts of what happened in front of the entire crew, but this is the Morning Star, everything is done differently on the commanding vessel.

I look around for the woman I saw earlier, but I can’t seem to find her amongst the nearly 200 crew that man this ship. I saw her climbing the rigging earlier and the way she moved caught my attention; she moves like Arden.

When the fever was at its worst, I started having dreams of her. All these years that went by I never forgot her, but for whatever reason my memories of her are coming hard and fast out of nowhere.

I will say this however, if I ever find her, and she is unmarried, I will do anything in my power to woo her. All those regret-filled years nearly came to a sudden and icy cold end. I was at death’s door, and I was alone, unfulfilled by life, and without love. I won’t let her slip away again, and I know that for me, she is the only one. No one else will do, and if I never find her then I will live out the rest of my life alone.

Jack places a meal on the table for me with a drink and I slowly begin to eat as I wait for the Captain to ask his questions. Lieutenant Giddeon offers him a sheet of paper and he looks it over before eyeing me. “Alright, if you’re ready let’s begin.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Your name, rank, and ship for the record.”

“James Morgan, Master of Arms of The Orion,” I watch Lieutenant Giddeon write everything in an alphabet I’ve not seen before. Probably a code or a strange shorthand.

“How did you and those men end up in that longboat?”

I was honest. I chose my words carefully when I expressed my opinion of Captain Reynolds’ choices in taking us so far North, to which Captain Dabang simply nodded.

We spent a considerable amount of time refining the details of what the naval ram looked like. In the end, it was easier for me to sketch as I spoke and when I was done the sketch was passed around so the entire crew could see it.

“Lastly, Master Morgan, did you happen to see who led these men?”

“Yes, I had him in my sights before the ship blew out from under me.”

“Could you describe him please?”

“I don’t mean any disrespect Captain, but I’m sure you all know him to be Wyatt Grayson, the self-proclaimed Pirate King.”

Captain Dabang interlaces his fingers and leans forward, “And how is it you know this man’s name?”

“We attended the same Academy; he left the same day as Arden Lexington.” I watch the Captain carefully, but he gives nothing away. As I quickly scan the crew behind him, I see some eyes dart to the same spot behind me, but when I turn to see who they’re looking at I see nothing but an empty seat next to Charlotte who suggestively wiggles her brows at me.

“Yes, Wyatt Grayson was an Officer on this ship until he decided to leave and join the enemy. The other man I’m not familiar with.”

“Woman,” I correct him as I turn to face him, but he ignores me.

“And you’re sure it was Wyatt Grayson you saw?”

“Yes,” I made sure my tone left no room for argument.

Captain Debang nods, and with that, he starts gathering his papers, “I’m relieved you are recovered Morgan; Doc said your chances of survival were low. Do you know where you would like to go from here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, your ship was destroyed, you no longer have a post until we acquire a new ship to replace The Orion. They’ll need a Captain for it, I could always put forward your name with a letter of recommendation. I have no doubt you would have made very different choices in Reynold's position.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Dabang smirks and nods. He takes all his paperwork and leaves followed closely by his team of Officers. They’ll probably have a meeting now and send official word of all of this to the higher-ups.

As I sit there contemplating what my future holds my table suddenly fills up with familiar faces. There’s Ox, and Azizi, probably the two largest men I’ve ever seen in my life, Charlotte and Eve the helmsman, and Jack and Adam who seem to be about the same age.

“Right,” Azizi places a new bottle of rum on the table while Ox provides the glasses.

When they push a glass toward Adam, I move it away and shake my head. There’s not a word of protest from anyone, just amused expressions all around and the rum begins to flow.

It doesn’t take long to realize the vibe on this ship is very different from that of The Orion. Here everyone is less formal and on a first-name basis. Not anything like the Academy I experienced. They seem to have their own rules here. I highly doubt I’ll get anything out of them; to be on this ship they’d have to be the best of the best, right?

“Do you speak any languages other than English?” Eve eventually asks after a few rounds.

“No,” I lie in the hopes I might overhear something interesting in the near future. It’s strange, I know we’re all on the same side here, but there’s something going on here, I can feel it in my gut.

“But there is a two-language minimum requirement to join the Fleet...?” Charlotte’s brows knit.

“Sometimes they waive that if you’re really, really, good at something,” Azizi looks at me and leans in closer, “Well? What’s your talent?”

“I’m a decent shot.”

“We’re all a decent shot,” Ox grumbles.

“How decent?” Charlotte’s lashes flutter in my direction as she leans in a little closer.

“I can shoot an ace from 200 feet,” I say casually sipping my rum.

“Bullshit,” they ring out in unison after a moment of consideration. And that’s how we all ended up top deck with half the ship’s crew rowdily placing bets on whether I could in fact shoot a playing card the length of the ship.

I check out the gun the ship's Master of Arms brings to make sure it’s not defective.

“Will she shoot straight?” Ox asks him nervously. With 5 pounds on the line, he has a lot to lose.

The Master seems somewhat offended, and I would be too in his place; it’s our duty to make sure the crew keeps their guns in top shape, especially when exposed to salt air on a regular basis. “Aye, she’ll shoot straight.”

I take off my Officers jacket, it’s restricting and far too hot out here. Charlotte offers to hold it and I hand it to her.

“There’s the scope you asked for,” the Master of Arms hands me the scope and I look through it to see Adam and Jack all the way at the other end of the ship waiting for the signal.

The sun’s already half set, but there’s enough light.

“Give him five shots aye?” Someone shouts out, “Per card!”

There’s a round of mixed responses depending on where each individual’s money lies and the crew starts quarreling about the terms.

“It’s fine, if she's a straight shot I’ll only need one per card,” I mutter as I attach the scope, and everyone within earshot, laughs, oohs, or ahs at the not-so-subtle display of my overblown ego.