PIRATES!

Travelling. Day... 5 I believe. The lyrics are taken from the Finnish Band 'Turisas', specifically the song 'Hunting Pirates' off of their new album, 'Stand Up And Fight'. I in no way shape or form own rights to the song, and it is used without permission. On the other hand, I advise anyone fond of the Norse, or Metal, particularly Folk Metal, to check them out. As for the rest of the tale, copyright held by and intellectual property of myself, Jared G. Juckiewicz
Warnings of Blood Violence and Death. It's Valkyrien, whaddaya expect?

So, there we were, driving along. Day five of out travels. Listening quietly to music, and watching the scenery change from the rolling prairies to the foothills of the rockies. Well. I say quietly. At present a bunch of Finns are roaring out their lyrics. "Full Sails Ahead! Oceans Painted Red! When The Soldiers Of Fortune Hunt For Pirates!" They sing, and I laugh. Vixen and Lydia look at me quizzically, and I grin. "Mind Bermuda, Milady?" Vixen turns her attention back to the road, laughing and grinning. It had been just after the Thirty Years War, and wandering through the ruin of the Germanies had led us to decide that perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to take a break from the constant warfare. So we booked ship. To the New World. Figuring to make a living as hunters and trackers. True, at the time, we had seperated again, and made these decisions independently. Sheer coincidence had us sailing on the same ship. A Dutch vessel, hauling supplies and colonists to Dutch possessions in the West Indies. There were a number of former mercenaries aboard. Most of them bore some form of weapon, mostly matchlocks and daggers, but a few had proper swords with them. I myself was travelling in my Hakkapell gear, or at least most of it. I'd discarded the rough wooden greaves and pauldrons, but kept the thick leather jerkin. I showed up at the pier, spoke to the ship's purser, and was shown aboard. I, personally, had opted to take one of the few cabins available, spending a small fortune for the increased privacy of sharing with but a single individual. True, I had no clue who said individual would be, but easier to convince one to keep as many secrets as I might need to, as opposed to many. Of course, some time later, after seeing my few possessions stowed away appropriately (in a sealskin kitbag of the old norse style.) I heard raised voices coming down the corridor. One belonged to the Purser. The other belonged to a woman. She seemed furious, something about being forced to share a room with a man, and how that would reflect on her virtue. I lay back in my hammock, closed my eyes, and resolved to ignore it. Of course, then the door to the cabin opened. I cracked an eyelid open, and a smile spread across my features. Of course, as soon as Vixen saw me, and recognised me, she changed her mind. "This man is known to me as honourable. I will accept your arrangements." She too arranged her possessions appropriately and strung up her hammock. We spent the time until the ship was due to sail discussing what each of us had been doing since the war ended, and we were released from the service of the Swedish army. We sailed with the Tide, and both of us were on deck. True, Vixen's clothing was like to be considered most improper. She was wearing a man's clothing, and at the time that was a major no-no. On the other hand, the way she walked suggested that she knew how to wield that sabre strapped to her belt. And I knew she had a small dagger slipped in the side of her boot. And another up her sleeve. The delicate-looking oriental fan in her belt was in fact reinforced with razor-edged steel spines. And the fact that the first man to try to take issue had a broken nose afore he could blink probably helped. Now Vixen wasn't as inured to sea-travel as I was, and I hadn't been to sea in ages. So we both had a lot to learn, but we learned it swiftly, and were always willing to lend a hand. We got roped into helping on a gun crew, on the grounds that we had been cross-trained as artillerymen in the Swedish army. We busied ourselves in making ourselves as useful as we could, rather than huddling in our berths like the rest of the crew. And then we entered Carribean waters. And the crew began to keep a far more careful eye out. Their worry and concern spread to the passengers, and it wasn't long before only the Mercenaries, Vixen, and I were the only ones who remained mostly unconcerned. Even if we did pay far more attention to keeping our blades sharp and our powder dry, and everything to hand. We noticed the crewmen did the same.
We learned why when we saw the sloop bearing down on us. It bore no nations colours, flying a simple black pennant. Cries of "Pirates" and "Buccaneers" raced through the ships complement, and black despair descended on most of the passengers. The Mercenaries loaded their guns, simple Arquebus, most of them. Vixen and I hastened to our assigned cannon, loading and preparing to run it in. The pirate vessel pursued us, and we had naught to but wait, till the Gun-deck officer bellowed the order to fire. So we settled for waiting. We did what we could with the guns, but the vessel pursuing us had done this before. They racked the deck with grapeshot, and then closed to board. As soon as we heard them coming over, Vixen and I rushed to the deck, cutting our way through any we didn't recognise. Our mercenaries were formed up on the deck, holding off the attackers, but the pirates had men in their rigging, sniping down. The Mercs wouldn't be able to hold. My cutlass slid into it's scabbard, and with a howl I leapt into the ratlines, Vixen following a hairsbreadth behind. Against warriors as strong as we were, and as used to moving on all fours, they stood no chance. Of course, while we were seeing to that, another group of pirates had managed to turn a swivel gun on the Mercs. They also had no chance, against that opposition. Seeing the carnage we chose to avenge them, dropping to the pirate's deck, and laying about us with our blades. Until there were no foes within reach, just a circle of musket barrels and bayonets. Through the circle stepped the captain of the Pirate vessel. "Well..." He drawled "What have we here? Looks to me to be a Woman." He leered at Vixen. "Live or Die, Lady?" Vixen mulled over this for a moment. "Hmm..." I felt her back tence against mine, slightly, imperceptibly, and then she snarled an answer. "DEATH AND GLORY" as she spun, her blade batting the bayonets in her way aside, the fan coming out of her belt, flipping open, and severing the jugular. As she came to a crouch, sabre held in a mid-guard, fan held demurely before her face, she growled a challenge. "Who's next" I stayed silent, bar a grin, as the buccaneers muttered amongst themselves. A few minutes later, one of them stepped forward. "I guess you are, Ma'am" He said. And just like that, we found ourselves pirates.