Aboard The Aella

First Mate Arminius surveyed The Aella’s deck as it cut through the sea. The wind whipped against his face, tossing his hair about as he inhaled the breeze. Eyes squinting in the bright sun, Armin inspected each of his sailors’ as they carried out their tasks with precision. Under the direction of the boatswain, the deckhands made sure the on-deck cargo was secure, others checked the status below deck. The technicians made sure the ship’s hull shields were engaged while the off-duty gunners helped with securing the ship’s carbon-emissions-cutting kite. 

And standing on the deck, watching the sail’s electronic textile glint in the sun, was an out-of-place passenger unsure what to do with her hands and ableness while on the ship. 

Geneticist Vilja was the only one on the ship that was not part of The Aella’s crew. Having been turned down by every commercial passenger ship for the week-long voyage through the North Shore on account of the storms and the rumored presence of pirates, Vilja’s last resort to beg for a spot on the cargo fleet worked, much to her surprise. The stubborn Captain Taurus had laughed at the fears of the other captains when Vilja had asked. 

“We’ve crossed the seas of the North Shore many times before,” he had said. “ The Aella is one of the best ships out there despite all the technology the government mandated. We’re heading back up there in two days. It’s not a floating palace, but you’re welcome to scrounge a lift.”

Vilja had mostly stood out of the way of the capable sailors while on the ship, but was enjoying the voyage nonetheless. Many members of the crew were curious about her, asking questions about her reasons for travelling to the North Shore. First Mate Arminius struck up a conversation with Vilja often, finding her and her line of work captivating. He often compared Vilja’s findings of genetic mutations and predictions of future genotypes to his findings of changing sea environments and charting courses. Armin would tell her stories from his travels on the ocean after which Vilja would apologize with a laugh that her vocation only produced academic essays and not fascinating stories. Armin had made a note to himself to read one of the essays when docked again at the West Harbor. 

Watching her now, Arminius figured he could strike up another conversation with her. The taste of the salty air in his mouth, Armin descended the stairs and made his approach. 

“Morning, Miss Vilja,” he greeted a bit loudly over the wind. 

She turned and answered with a smile. “Good morning, Arminius. There’s quite a lot of wind today.”

“Yes. Will be good for speed now that the kite’s up. I’m surprised to see you above deck,”

“Why’s that?” asked Vilja. 

“Oh, no,” started Armin. “It was a pleasant surprise. What I mean by that is it’s very windy. I was surprised you’re out here in the wind when you don’t need to be. By that, I mean the crew members are out here in the wind because they have to, but you are not required to be out here. In the wind.” 

“Are you alright, Arminius?” 

“Yes. I didn't sleep as well as I thought. I might head below deck to rest before the storm hits.”

“The storm?”

“Yeah,you can always tell by the strength of the breeze and the smell in the air. You might not be able to now, but after a few years on the sea, you can smell a storm before it hits.”

Vilja nodded with understanding. “Does that mean we’re close to the North Shore?” 

Arlin nodded. “In a few hours, we’ll be past the naval boundary and be hit with the storm as our welcome party.”

“How bad will this storm be?” Vilja asked, looking toward the sea.

“There’s no need to worry, Miss Vilja; North Shore storms tend to scare newcomers with their wall of waves and sheets of rain, but The Arella is built like the fleet of North Shore ships. They’re able to withstand most weather conditions out at sea. You know what the motto of the North Shore residents is, right?”

“Made for the stones.”

“The most stubborn and strong willed make it through the North Shore seas and you’re on a ship captained by one of the most stubborn captains to ever step foot on a boat. We’ll keep you safe.”

Vijla turned to look at the first mate. 

Arminius cleared his throat. “That is, we keep the cargo safe and the rest of the crew safe. We always do. Not that we won’t keep you safe, I just meant that…I’m sorry if my words confused you.” 

Vilja smiled. “Not at all, Arminius.”

“Good,” sighed Armin.

Vilja seemed hesitant then, looking back toward the sea. “What about the rumors? About attacks on ships by pirates?”

Armin followed her gaze for a moment. “Some of those reports have come back as unfounded, and the ones seemingly true have been rare. It’s hard to tell these days what is false and what is true. I even heard that the peacemaking Dove was working with pirates, and I highly doubt that to be true.” He noticed the look of worry still on Vilja’s face. “Of course, if anything were to happen aboard The Aella, the attackers would have to be madmen to try her. With the amount of security built into her and gunners at the ready, not to mention the fight of its captain and first mate,” Vilja cracked a small smile. Armin gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. “You have virtually nothing to fear, Miss Vijla.”

She turned to look at him. Armin dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “Well, it was nice talking to you. Hopefully you’ve been reassured. I must go do my duties. Maybe rest my head. Right. Jones!” He called out to the boatswain, walking away stiffly. “Keep this deck in order. I’m heading below.” Arminius descended the stairs, ready to shut his eyes for a while. 

*  *  *  *

Arminius awoke with a grunt as his back slammed against the wall. The rumbles of thunder received him as he found his footing and rushed to slip on a jacket. He tore down the corridor and up the stairs to be met with a fresh shower of rain to drench him. All around him, the ship’s lights glared at him, their beams cutting through the rain. A flash of lightning illuminated the deck and an oncoming wall of water. The storm was right on time. 

“Where have you been, Arminius?” Jones yelled passing by. 

“I must have slept through my natural alarm,” Armin jokingly answered back, hearing Jones let out a short laugh before shouting at deckhands. 

Arminius then moved to tackle the sea kite. There were already many hands pulling on the stiff cords of the kite, and several hands had slipped off the wet surface as rain water cascaded down the lines. Armin joined the body of deckhands struggling to pull down the cables. 

“What happened to the retractors?” he asked in a strained voice as he pulled. The thick cords remained taut as the wind kept the kite in its grip. 

“They’re fried!” one of the deckhands shouted. 

Armin paused to think, looking up at the kite. He grabbed a length of rope, tossed it around his shoulder, and told the deckhands to step aside. They stared as he started to climb a section of the cables, using all his strength to cling to the cords. Not going too far up, Armin took out the rope and, calculating carefully, tossed one end over the canvas. With a swift motion, he grabbed the loose end and slid down the cables, handing the ends of the rope to the others for them to help pull. Soon the kite was on the deck and several crew members were gathering the canvas up in their hands. 

Armin had seldom time to feel good about his quick thinking. His attention was snatched when he heard a cry from the port side. He rushed over to the direction of the sound, finding Vijla struggling to stand on her feet. She was drenched head to toe, clinging to the bulkhead. 

“Vijla!” Arminius shouted. Her head snapped to the sound of his voice, but her response was drowned in a wave of water that slammed the ship’s hull, giving Vijla a fresh dowsing as she hit the ground. Armin ran closer.

For a brief moment, Armin looked out at the sea behind her and saw another wall of water heading for them. The Aella could take it, but with her inexperience, Vilja was in danger. He moved faster.

Armin was almost to her when the port side dipped asThe Aella swayed with the sea. Vijla slid with the ship, moving further from him toward the bulkhead, toward the sea. Her finger grasped uselessly at the deck until her body hit the bulkhead. She was spluttering and sluggish as the ship sway became steeper, pushing her along. Arminius reached out his hand and she reached for him. Their hands met when the ship met the wave. 

Armin was grabbing water instead of flesh. 

“Vilja!” he shouted. He looked around for her. He heard a meek reply and saw her, half drowned and being dragged by the wave into its embrace. Armin rushed to the bulkhead as Vilja slipped over the edge. Armin reached out toward her. Vilja let out a soft croak when Armin’s arms wrapped around her torso and pulled her back aboard the ship. 

“Can you stand?”  he asked. Vilja nodded. Together they made it to the forecastle. In the stairway they caught their breath. 

“What were you doing out there?” Armin asked raspily. 

“I thought it was safe,” Vilja hoarsely replied. 

“I figured you could gauge how much you could stand being on deck.”

“I’m sorry I trusted your word, then.” The two looked at each other for a moment. “My apologies, Arminius; that was not an appropriate response.”

“S’okay,” nodded Armin. “It’s your first time. I’d stay below deck until—”

His response trailed off as he listened to the sounds coming from the deck. There was shouting and a lot of it. Heavy footsteps could be heard, and they were running. Vijla and Armin flattened against the wall as several gunners came hurrying down the steps then. “What is it?” Armin called after one as they turned into the armory, as if that didn’t answer his question. 

“Arminius, what’s going on?” Vilja asked, seeing the gunners reenter the stairway with their weapons in hand. When they had reached the deck, Armin took a look out, eyes scanning the sea. 

“Vilja,” he said, voice dark. “Listen to me carefully.” He stepped down from the stairs and looked her in the eyes. “Remember that I said you have nothing to worry about, yes? I need you to go find a secure place here below deck. Find a good place and hide yourself. Do you understand? Stay hidden.”

Vilja nodded, swallowing her questions and turning to run down the corridor as Armin took a small handgun of his own, placing it in his coat pocket before running up the stairs to join his crew. 

Through the wind and rain and lightning, Arminius saw the ship riding the waves with ease. In faded gold, Armin could make out a name written on the ship’s hull as it plowed closer. A black flag raised and moving against the wind atop their mast, all of Captain Taurus’ crew including the captain himself watched as The Corentin and its crew of pirates sailed up against The Aella. 

Armin moved into the crowd of gunners at the ready, watching the ship glide across the water.

Then the cannons began to fire. Hitting the hull of the ship with a sound that matched the thunder in the sky, the enemy fire shook the ship and weakened the shields. The gunners poised their weapons at the enemy ship and started to fire upon them. 

The starboard side of The Corentin hit the portside of The Aella, several quick hands already making light work of securing the enemy ship to the other. Several members of Taurus’ crew rushed to the side and fought them, trying to stop them from taking the ship. The opposing crew seemed to have used a strange device to secure the two ships together. Even if a member of The Aella could get close to it, it was too strong to pry off and encoded with no time to crack the system before a pirate could stop them. Several pirates were already making their way through the ranks of armed gunners. 

Armin himself was tackling pirates away from the bridge. Fighting hard, he tried to reach for his gun. Before he could get into his pocket, his opponents would grab his arm, and he’d struggle free to try again. Each punch or kick he made was returned back to him, but Arminius kept fighting. 

Armin caught glances of Captain Taurus fighting off a large number of pirates with two gunners by his side. He took punches left and right and threw back twice as many as he was dealt while the gunners at his side tried to cut down the number of attackers. 

Looking up, Armin saw a shadow cross above the high beams and posts of the ship and slid down a rope to land behind Taurus. 

“Captain!” the first mate managed to shout before one of his attackers had landed a blow to his stomach. His attackers then seized their chance to subdue him, twisting his arms behind his back and causing him to fall to his knees. When Armin had looked up toward his captain, he saw that his cry had not helped, but rather distracted Taurus, allowing the shadow behind him to gain the upper hand and strike him down. All around him, Armin saw his crewmates fall into the hands of their attackers as the roughened seas seemed to level. The pirates looked to the shadow, who Armin came to realize was their captain as he stepped into the light. They were waiting for his instructions. 

Through the wind and rain, the captain’s voice was clear and loud. “Bring them to the foredeck! Take the bridge and head below deck. I want to see their inventory.”

The pirates forced their defeated opponents to The Aella’s foredeck, many standing guard around the captives with their guns armed and ready to meet with resistance. Armin watched as the remaining pirates hurried downstairs to the forecastle, his frustrations now mixed with fear boiling in his stomach as he hoped Vilja had hidden herself well. 

The Corentin’s captain stood in front of the captives scanning their faces. “Which one of you is the captain of this ship?”

After a few moments of listening to the rain as the crew remained silent, Armin spoke up through gritted teeth. “The man you struck down is our captain. Good luck trying to talk with him.”

“You’ve got a touch of stupid brazenness, sir,” replied the captain with a smile. “Don’t you know to treat the captain with respect?” 

“You’re not my captain, and no matter the gun pointed at me, I won’t give you my respect,” Armin huffed. 

The captain laughed and motioned with his hand. Two pirates dragged Arminius toward the front of the group. 

“Tell me, what’s your position on this crew?”

“First Mate.”

“Ah!” the captain was appeased. “So you could tell me why your ship is heading into the North Shore.” A moment passed where no one spoke. “So tell me,” the captain said pointedly. 

“We’re a cargo ship. We’re delivering cargo.” 

“Very smart. What sort of cargo?”

“That’s classified information.”

“I see,” said the captain. “Well, I’ll just read the inventory then.” Behind him, as if he knew they were coming, a group of his men emerged from the stairs, holding the inventory. “Excellent,” smirked the captain as he took the list. 

A second group of men followed the first, dragging another prisoner with them. Vilja. Armin’s heart dropped when the captain took notice of her. 

“Who’s this?” he asked, sizing her up. 

“A geneticist. Working for the government,” said one of the pirates. 

“Really?” said the captain. “And why might she be heading to North Shore?”

“They sent for me. I don’t know,” Vilja replied in a small voice. A gun was pointed at her and Armin shifted. “I swear! It’s all in red tape!” 

“Red tape? Sounds important,” said the captain. “I wonder how important it is.” He turned toward Arminius. “What do you think? Bet her ransom’s high-price. How many hairs should we send?”

“You won’t touch any hairs on her head,” Armin seethed. 

“Seemed to touch a nerve there. Alright, well I don’t like to cut fingers, but if that’s what you want.” 

“Don’t!” cried Arminius as Vilja let out a small cry. Something unsettled Armin as the captain smiled. 

“Picky, picky you are, First Mate,” he said. “Well if you won’t let me have my fun, we’ll take our share of your cargo and go. Men!” 

His pirates worked fast, wasting no time transferring the valuable items between ships. Armin helplessly watched as his ship was looted until the captain was satisfied. When most of the men were aboard their ship, the captain took one last look at The Aella’s crew. Eyes narrowing at Arminius, he quickly lunged and grabbed a struggling Vilja as she fought against her bonds. 

“No!” Armin cried, running toward them. He drew his gun and was within range when the captain faced him, his own weapon drawn on his captive. 

“I wouldn’t try following us,” the captain warned. Armin's steps stuttered. His eyes met the captains and lowered to Vilja's. Aboard the ship, the captain's crew pointed their weapons on him. The seige of the ship would start all over again.

Taking his chance, the captain nodded. "There's a smart lad." He leapt aboardThe Corentin and sailed off, shrouded by the storm. Armin could only watch as the ship, and Vilja, disappeared into the rough waves and rain.

"Sir, we need to continue course," a deckhand said. Armin hardly heard him. 

"Radio the mainland," he ordered. "I don't care which one. Call them all if you have to. I want them to be on the look out for The Corentin. I want that ship tracked. Report a pirate attack." 

"Sir!" one of the crew memebers called. "The radio's down. They've messed with our communications!"

"What!" Fuming, Arminius glared at the shadow of the pirate ship, knowing he'd been beaten, but vowing he would not let it happen again. 

*  *  *  *

As The Aella faded from view, the pirate captain approached Vilja. "Did you get what you needed, Lady Dove?" he asked as he cut her ropes.

She was quiet for a moment. "I did." Her fist tightened around her flash drive. "Let's go put this information to good use." 

The captain smiled. "Lead the way, Lady Dove."