Tell Me the Answer (4): Because the Food Tastes Damn Good
Imperial Year 191, April. The One-Armed Hand Pirate Crew's delegation had tasted utter humiliation at the hands of the Edward Pirate Crew.
In response, their first mate Locke mobilized a fleet of five ships and five hundred men total.
Cleaving through the thick fog, they soon arrived off the coast of the Nameless Island.
Atop the island's towering mountains flew the skull-marked flag of the Edward Pirate Crew.
"Captain!"
A lookout from the harbor came panting up.
I stood there with my arms crossed, eyeing him steadily.
"It's the One-Armed Hand Pirate Crew! The main fleet's coming!"
Yeah. That's how you do it.
The entire crew was already assembled.
Ever since we'd crushed their delegation, this was the inevitable next step.
"What's their scale?"
"Three ships that look like refitted merchants, and two ships of the line."
Ships of the line—two of them. That was more firepower than I'd figured.
Our junker could barely hold thirty-odd souls, while those behemoths could pack hundreds without breaking a sweat.
And unlike our cheap-ass cannons, theirs would pack a punch that put ours to shame.
Just looking at the hardware was enough to make you despair, but the manpower gap? Forget it.
"Th-that's... impossible."
Arhen, who'd naturally drifted into the group, clapped both hands over her mouth.
She clearly hadn't expected pirates to roll that deep.
"This is suicide!"
Her already pale skin went ghostly white.
Eh, I got it. Her reaction made sense.
I wasn't some clueless dumbass. I knew damn well that charging in meant certain death.
But even so, I'd chosen to draw my blade.
Why, you ask?
I ignored Arhen and stepped in front of the crew.
"Anyone who wants to bail, do it now."
I wasn't gonna force anyone into this fight. That wasn't the kind of pirate I wanted to be.
Everyone facing the same horizon—that's what made them comrades, right?
So I said it again.
"No one's gonna laugh. If you wanna rabbit, rabbit."
Silence fell over the group.
All eyes locked on me.
If you ever wanna feel the full weight of being captain, it was right fucking now.
Then one sailor stood up.
Jack.
"Fuckin' hell, my luck with idiot captains must be shit."
He shuffled up beside me and let out a deep sigh.
Next came Elise.
"I'm always on your side, Captain!"
She plastered herself right against my side.
Led by those two, the others started lining up behind me one by one.
They were all muttering curses about me under their breath—what could ya do? Like Jack said, their fault for sailing under a captain like this.
I smirked and eyed the holdouts.
"You lot?"
About ten left.
They looked hesitant to stand.
These guys had shared meals with me for ages.
So they knew damn well I wouldn't drag 'em kicking and screaming.
I gave up on 'em. Wasn't planning to anyway.
"Captain, just one question, if I may."
Helmsman Aaron spoke up.
"Why go this far?"
The reason. The reason.
Yeah, the reason.
'Cause this is my turf now.
But that line wouldn't fly anymore. My old crewmates knew it was bullshit I'd just made up.
So since he'd asked from the heart, I answered from mine.
"'Cause the food tastes good."
Aaron stared at me blankly.
"What more reason does a pirate need?"
Then he burst out laughing, a big booming guffaw.
"Hahaha! Fuck me, what a shitty captain we've got!"
He hacked and wheezed with laughter for a good while before hauling himself up by one knee.
"Well, the grub is pretty tasty here. What're you waiting for? On your feet, ya louts."
Sighs and groans rippled through the crowd.
"Aw, man. Was gonna hold out a bit longer."
"Aaron, bro, keep spoiling him and the captain'll get bad habits."
"This guy's possessed by a food demon, swear. Did the same shit last time!"
In the end, every last sailor stood behind me.
Pirates gonna pirate—griping the whole way.
Now they had my back.
My back and nothing else.
Most of 'em had been sold off to slavers once upon a time.
God knows what storms they'd weathered.
What went through their heads, outnumbered like this, blades in hand?
Beats me. I wasn't a mind reader.
You can't just assume you know someone's heart, no matter how close.
But one thing I did know?
They loved the sea as much as I did.
Shing!
I yanked Cutlerus high overhead.
"Let's go, lads! Cast off!"
"Waaaaaagh!"
"Charge!"
"Shitty captain!"
"What'd you say, you little—"
"Drop anchor! Hoist the flag!"
Jack jumped in. The crew swarmed aboard.
"Are you all... sane...?"
Arhen gawked in shock.
I shot her a wry chuckle.
See? These fuckers were as sea-mad as they come.
What a bunch of goddamn pirates.
Before boarding, Arhen had said,
"Why not run now?"
I'd shot back,
"If you're not busy, get the Lusha Village folk to safety."
She'd clamped her mouth shut after that, saying nothing more.
Probably thought we were marching off to die by choice.
But hey.
No idiot picks a fight planning to lose.
"Pull harder!"
I hauled on the ropes. The sails billowed taut, whipping in the wind.
"Load the cannonballs!"
Heavy crates stacked up on deck, the ship groaning creeeak under the weight.
As preparations kicked into high gear,
I grabbed our flag and climbed to the top of the mast.
The sea. The goddamn sea.
Vast as fuck.
Standing here, you could taste the salt. Smell the brine. Feel the chill wind kiss your cheeks while the sun's glare scorched your retinas off the waves.
Sometimes, perched up here, it felt like we were adrift on this endless mirror.
And yet, me and my crew? We fucking loved it.
Simple reason.
Look at this ocean.
Blue as far as the eye can see.
Direction didn't matter.
Just sharing this blue? That was worth it all.
Vroooom!
The ship surged forward.
Our vessel, packed with thirty-six souls.
The Albatross was properly under way.
I was soaking in the crisp sea breeze when—
"Caaaaptain! Time to come doooown!"
Elise hollered from below.
Just when I was getting all poetic and shit.
I sighed and leaped right off.
BOOM!
"Eek! Y-you'll bust the deck! Gonna take responsibility?! Being stupidly tough doesn't solve everything!"
...Sorry. Got carried away.
I cleared my throat a couple times and changed the subject.
"Get a read on 'em?"
"Yup. Crunched the numbers—this speed, we'll clash in about two days. Oh, and I brought that map you mentioned."
Elise pulled a map from her bosom and spread it on deck.
Drawn by the Lusha Village folks—our local chart.
I scanned the terrain and marked a few X's.
"Head for the high cliffs."
"What if they swing wide?"
"Whole area's ringed in jagged peaks—you know that. Plus, anywhere but this chokepoint's too cluttered for their big boys to squeeze through."
"True that."
Elise nodded vigorously.
"So, block the narrow pass. Got it?"
Spot on.
Problem was the cannons.
Trading shots at range with ships of the line? Worst-case play.
Our guns were bargain-bin crap that barely fired straight.
Even if we had top-shelf firepower, the hull couldn't take it.
I pondered, then jabbed at the cliffs.
"Split the crew."
"Huh? With numbers like this?"
"Few on the ship—including me—is plenty. Rest wait on the cliffs."
Elise tilted her head, skeptical.
"Splitting your front that thin? You'll get flanked and fucked."
"Only if the front line crumbles."
She stared at me.
"...Fair. You might pull it off. You're stupidly strong."
"Damn right I am."
I grinned back.
Then turned.
"Jack, you're on the cliffs. Push hard—one day tops. If you're late, no sweat. I'll hold the ship."
"Aye."
Long as I stood this deck, the Albatross would hold.
That's how it'd be.
"Rest of you—follow me, no worries."
If they had my back, time I took responsibility.
"I'll bring us victory."
The crew roared with laughter.
The decisive battle was upon us.