Pieces of Eight Part Trois

The Captain and her first officer made their way to the pub stationed across the way from the maintenance yard. This was the center of attention for all of East London, and the one place The Jewel's crew missed most about making port there. Jezebel closed the door behind her number one, taking in the musty scent of the cigar-smoke-filled room immediately. A smile played across her lips. This was familiar. This was friendly. She followed Miles toward the back of the crowded bar, finding the majority of her crew amidst their second pints already. She took a seat in the middle of her men, her back against the wall and front facing the dingy brown windows. In this town, one could never be too careful. Her first sat on her right side. The kid, Dunham, reclined on her left.

While Miles ordered from the short-skirted barmaid, the Captain glanced at the newest member of her crew. Horace Dunham was a greenhorn on his first adventure. His blue eyes darted around to every body in the place, taking in his first trip to a real English pub. He'd joined the crew less than a year ago... the casualty of a raid Jezebel couldn't ignore. Dunham had been beaten and left for dead by her crew against orders. As punishment to her men and as penance for her own sins, the Captain hauled the boy on board. She had had no idea what a mechanic he actually was...

"Ale's here, Jez- er, Captain," Miles said, catching himself. "Thought you might like the dark one today."

"Perfect, Bennett, thank you." Jezebel took a long drink from her mug. A drink was what she needed after the past twenty-four hours.

"Captain.”

“Yes, Dunham?”

“I've been watchin' those two men beside us, and I think you should have a listed to what they're sayin'.? The greenhorn gestured subtly with a nod of his chin to two gruff men a few table away.

Jezebel gave a look to the boy, who grinned sheepishly. Out of curiosity, she fell silent anyway, and leaned back in her chair a little, resting it against the wooden wall.

“All I'm sayin', Jim, is that there's got to be treasure there still. The place hasn't been ventured to in decades!”

“Keep yer voice down, will ya?” The second man, Jim, replied. “D'ye want the whole pub to hear ye? Look, even if the stuff was still there, how d'we get to it? You'd need an airship and a crew crazy enough to sail that far into the unexplored. It'd be a wasted effort.”

Jezebel jabbed her first officer. He gave her a look and wiped the spilled ale from his chin. “What is it, Captain?”

“I think we've found the answer to our troubles, Bennett. Have a little listen.” Jezebel looked pointedly at the table of two men. Miles leaned over, doing his best to look inconspicuous.

“...but yer not thinkin' straight, Jim!” exclaimed the first man, a squat sailor with more than just five o'clock stubble and a flair for tattoos. “If we find a crew daft enough, this just might work! Think 'a how rich we'll be- we could get ourselves anythin' we want!”

The first officer gave his Captain a raised eyebrow. “Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?”

“I have a feeling you are, my dear Bennett,” she replied.

“Barnaby, you'd be a fool t'go lookin' for a treasure that don't really exist,” Jim said, drinking his ale through a scraggly goatee. “There ain't no way the Pieces of Eight'll be anywhere near here!”

“That's just it- it ain't around here, Jim. I'm sure ye've heard of the Caribbean?” The man called Barnaby gave a little wink. Jim nearly spit out his last gulp of ale.

“Ye don't mean to tell me you think tha' place is REAL??”

Barnaby nodded. “Surely I do. I've heard first-hand stories m'self.

Jim snorted and pushed his empty mug aside. “Don' mean it's real.”

“It is too real, an' that's where we're getting' the greatest treasure man's ever known!” Barnaby slapped a tattooed hand on the table angrily.

Jezebel glanced over at her First. Miles' eyebrows were knit tightly together. He shook his head and looked squarely at the Captain. “Does he mean the Pieces of Eight the first explorers were said to have left behind?”

The Captain nodded slowly. “I think he does, Miles.”

“And you want us to be the crew he hires to find it?”

She nodded again.

“Well, time to mutiny! Our Captain's gone officially insane!” Miles threw his arms into the air, exasperated.

“If that was a joke, I'm not laughin',” The Captain replied flatly. “Look, we've got no other prospects, pirating isn't getting us much of anywhere and I don't see why we can't let out overworked crew have a little fun.”

“Fun?” The First Officer's voice sprang up an octave. “How is traveling halfway around the world into uncharted territory for a treasure that may not exist, risking the lives of the crew and working for two.. dunderheads FUN?!”

Jezebel stood and smiled down at Miles. “Simple. We're Pirates.”

Miles sighed and stood with his Captain. “Alright, I'll give you that. Let's go offer our services and meet our doom...”

Jezebel clapped him on the back, took a last swig of her ale and marched to the men's table. “Gents,” she announced, “meet your new Captain and crew. We've decided to sail with you!”

Jim and Barnaby exchanged glances. “And how d'you know that we're in need of a crew?” Jim asked.

“Overheard you, of course. You two didn't do the best job at keepin' yourselves quiet.”She winked.

Barnaby narrowed his yellowed eyes. “And what is it ye think we need a crew for?”

Jezebel smiled slowly, leaned over and placed her hands on the scratched wood of the table. The pair's eyes drifted. “I hear you're after the Pieces of Eight, and tryin' to sail to the Caribbean,” she said in a low voice. “I may or may not have been that way before.”

It took the men a minute for their eyes to refocus. When they did, both had a smirk on their faces.

“So you think you're the ship for us?” Barnaby took a drink from his glass mug.

“I know I am.”

The men looked at each other a long while, their expressions turning from smirks to smiles.

“Well, missy, why don't you and your friend there have a seat,” Jim gestured a muscled arm to the two open chairs in front of Jezebel and Miles, “and we'll discuss some business.”

The Pirates took the seats offered, Jezebel smiling the whole time.

“My name is Captain Jezebel, and this is my First Officer, Miles Bennett. We fly the Jewel of the Skies. Maybe you've heard of it.”

Jim snorted a laugh. “Y'mean the derelict in the maintenance yard? Ye fly THAT?!”

The Captain frowned, golden eyes narrowing. “That's the best damn ship flyin' these skies, sir. She's attacked, been attacked and won every single battle she's been in since the day of her launching.”

“Makin' an exception for the little skirmish that brought her to this port,” Barnaby grinned. He showed off more than one gold tooth.

“That was a... special circumstance. One in a million chance,” Miles added, disliking the men more every minute.

“She takes a hit as bad as that over uncharted waters, an' it looks like yer done for!” Jim chuckled, passing a hand over his bald head.

“Well I don't see any of these other pirates willin' to help you seek the treasure. And if you think the Royal Navy or Aerocorps will help you, you've got another thing comin'!” Jezebel, furious, slammed her fist on the table and stood. “C'mon Bennett, we don't need to be insulted-”

Jim held up his hands and chuckled. “Hey now... we never said we didn't want ye as our crew. Sit down, ye little spitfire! We're testin' your character!”

“And ye passed!” Barnaby laughed.

Eyebrow raised and pulse quickened, Jezebel sat back in her chair slowly. “You insult my ship again and we make no deal,” she said through her teeth.

“We'll be nice,” Barnaby placated. “Now let's discuss the terms, shall we?” He waved a hand in the air at the barmaid, calling for four more ales.

“Half.”

Barnaby looked at the Captain, surprised. He frowned. “Half? That's outrageous! It's OUR idea and OUR plan we'll be executin'!”

“And it's my ship, my crew and my supplies you'll be using.” Jezebel took a mug from the barmaid's tray, but didn't drink.

The men exchanged a long, yellow glance.

“Hate to admit it, but ye've got a point, missy,” Jim conceded. He took a swig from his new mug.

“'Still don' think ye should get HALF,” Barnaby muttered. “Forty percent maybe, but not half...”

“It's half or nothing, gentlemen.” The Captain leaned in, just a little. Bennett refrained from rolling his eyes.

Barnaby rubbed the mermaid tattoo on his left arm, doing his best not to be swayed. “Ah... half it is. I suppose ye are the only crew we'd be able t'persuade.”

Jezebel sat back, smiling to herself. She held out a hand. “We have a deal, sirs.”

In turn all four shook on it, and drank a toast to adventure and fortune.

It was late into the night when the crew plus its new members stumbled their way back onto the Jewel. The Captain, sober, showed Jim and Barnaby to their quarters, and only their quarters. She retired to her chambers and was finally fast asleep when there was a knock at her door.

“Captain?”

Jez sighed. “Come in, Miles.”