Cap’n Timmy Weston, privateer under the letters of marque issued by Queen Estrella of the Kingdom of Espana, gazed through his spyglass. Ahead, barely visible in the dusky seas of the setting sun, was the ship The Lady’s Grace. Based out of Cape Town, The Lady’s Grace was a pirate ship in the employ of one Thomas Collins of the shipping firm called Collins, Drambuie and Tonic.
The pirate captain, Saucy Jack, was known to be one of the worst offenders in the history of piracy. Over forty ships were known to have been raided, plundered and sank by he and his crew, and the body count was estimated at three thousand dead, sold to slavery or wenched.
“First Mate Bah,” Cap’n Weston called out, and within moments his chubby little first mate, a bear by the name of Poo Bah appeared at his side, saluting and reporting, “Aye, aye, Cap’n?”
“Ready the crew and douse the lights. We’ll be taking Saucy Jack tonight and I’d be doing it by surprise if I can. The reward on his ship is high, and the money on his head is just as bountiful. We’ll take him, and as many of his crew, alive – a grace they aren’t known for giving to many of the unfortunates who fell under their swords.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” the First Mate replied, snapping off another salute. He turned and started barking commands to the crew of former pirates that manned the ship, The Golden Voyage.
Lights were doused and only a minimal crew were aboard deck. All the rest quickly prepared for battle and waited in rooms just below the deck. Several had hatches that led through the side of the ship for a stealthy approach; more than once a battle had been won by a sizeable number of Cap’n Weston’s men scaling the side of the enemy ship.
Saucy Jack’s men were notorious for their savagery. They were hired killers; most of them escaped convicts from a prison island (Ozstria) that Saucy Jack had raided when he was low on crewmen several years ago. Most of them were so grateful for their freedom, as well as for the chance to do more killing, that they signed on.
The majority of Cap’n Weston’s men were pirates, it was true, but they were more of the raiding and wenching variety. They didn’t kill unless it was necessary, they didn’t sink ships if it wasn’t mandated – after all, a sunken ship can never be raided again. It was bad business in the professional pirate’s mind.
And they had a code of honour, of sorts. They wouldn’t raid pilgrims or rescue ships transporting people from war ravaged lands. Children were safe from them, as were grannies – for most of them loved their own granny. In fact, it was one of the questions Cap’n Weston would ask any man seeking to sign on as a member of his crew. If they didn’t love their granny, they weren’t welcome on the crew.
“Even a pirate has to have standards,” the Cap’n had once explained to First Mate Bah. Poo Bah was exempt from that mandate, because as a teddy bear, he didn’t have a granny.
Cap’n Weston kept watch as his ship caught up on The Lady’s Grace; he almost began to think that this would go smoothly, but when they were only a hundred meters away, a klaxon sounded on the pirate ship – they’d been spotted.
“Ramming speed,” the Cap’n bellowed, and the oarsmen began rowing to a faster drum cadence. The Golden Voyage slammed into The Lady’s Grace, the twin barbs at the front of the ship burying themselves deep into the hull of the pirate ship.
With whooping and hooting, the privateers began boarding the pirate ship.
It was a great and terrible battle. Much blood was spilt, captives were taken, and in the end, the pirates would rather sink their ship than allow the privateers to take their precious booty. There was a loud explosion from below and the pirate ship began to slip under the waves…