The spinning, hot .45 slug exploded from the back of the skull, raining blood and brains along the damp, wooden planks of the deck. The twitching body slumped with a heavy thud to the side, revealing a smoking, silver barrel still leved in trajectory. A moment passed, as the echo of the gunshot faded into the creaking sway of sea-worthy timber. Then, spinning the silver Baller in a suitable western panache, the bearer of the execution brought the warm piece back snug into his hip holster.
"Now...anyone else want to voice their concerns?", his voice stated with a calm intimidation, breaking the terrible silence, "Now's the time."
Sharp green eyes turned to and fro, scanning the hard men before him, searching for any volunteers. Another moment of silence to assure that no tongues wished to wag, and he nodded.
"Starboard..." he commented, giving a quick glance to the crumpled body. The stout first mate gave a silent agreement, he and two others dragging and tossing the corpse into the frothing sea.
The Captain turned on his booted heel, marching towards the bow of the ship. The tassels of the ornate scabbard on his back, housing a broad scimitar, flittered with the haphazard gusts of salty air. Climbing the half-deck of stairs, he came around and stood before the banister. The hazy gray of the clouds behind him merely complimented his pale features. Shoulder-length, sandy-blonde hair twisted with the wind, the random strands braided in meticulous fashion framing his hard jaw.
"When each of you....each and every one of you...asked to join me on my conquests, I told you of the dangers." he addressed them, the regal tint of his words clashing with the bohemian squalor of his appearance. "I warned you. While normal scavengers are satiated with the bounty of riches...feeding off the fat and happy wealth of nations...this ship carries no such purpose. We are different. We strive for better."
The ragtag ensemble of the crew stared back at their leader, enchanted by the richness of his words. Tempted by the allure of his courage and daring pride.
"Others such as us...they wish for gold, and jewels..." he continued, the passion rising in his voice. "...but, I tell you now...LET the dogs have their trinkets! Let them have their simple desires! We have no need of such things! This is the Argolas! We are the nail in the heart of history! The hunters of time! We are LEGEND!!"
The crew immediately roared to life, cheering with bravado. Captain Norrin Frasier, leaned into his palms, gripping the bannister in front of him. He surveyed his bellowing crew before him with squinting pride, and confidence.
"Gentlemen...", he finally stated, his words cutting through the cheering below, "...we sail once more into history..."
And with that, his first mate began barking orders, the crew instantly and efficiently swarming across the wide deck of the enormous sailing ship.
"Raise anchor!! Stand by the braces!!" he shouted, the oft-repeated "Aye!" replying in the distance. As the crew continued its preparation, he turned to his captain...
"What heading, sir?"
Captain Frasier was now looking ahead, pacing towards the tip-end bow of the ship. His eyes gazed out over the endless horizon of ocean, sawing his teeth back and forth in contemplation. After a moment, he dug into his interior vest pocket. His fingers pulled free what appeared to be a small, compact device that resembled a Blackberry. A few buttons pushed, and few chirps following, he finally looked back up at the ocean.
"Hmmm....I've always wanted to plunder the earlier 21st century..." he replied. He glanced over at his officer. "What say you?"
The mate shrugged, his demeanor softening to a more casual air. "I don't know...do these kom-poo-ters get any better?"
"Oh yes!" Norrin assured him with a hint of excitement. "We get so much more advanced by then. Not just with these electrical machines, but....with human beings, too..."
The first mate looked briefly aghast.
"They...they make human beings? In shops?"
"Like an ironsmith would craft a blade, Micah." he nodded. "They make us...humans...into weapons!"
Micah quickly crossed himself, kissing the cross necklace around his neck. "Saints preserve us, Captain! Sounds like the end-times!"
"Ha!" Norrin laughed. "Mayhaps for the few sea-worthy warriors we find. Fear not....I do not plan on us staying there long. Just enough to graft a few more of these tools."
He looked back out over the ocean again, his eyes full of wonder.
"I tell you Micah...after the many centuries we've seen...it still amazes me to find that man pursues the need to arm himself more and more. It's not enough they have weapons to rend the clouds themselves. But...to form a human as a weapon itself!"
He pause, the meaning of the words heavy on his brow.
"It makes one wonder where the end of it all shall come to..."
Micah stared at the side of the captain's head for a moment, pondering the subject.
"And to where our end shall come, as well?"
Norrin cocked an eye at his mate. "Tell me the mutinous fear that Barkley spewed has not infected your spine, my friend..."
"No." Micah answered. "He was a spineless coward that could not see beyond his own crooked nose. He deserved your wrath."
"Good."
"Yet....Captain...there is some truth to it all..."
Frasier stood fully up now, turning to face the man.
"I, too, have wondered....where it shall all end?" Micah continued in earnest.
"Micah..."
"Sir, we have done so much, now! We have pillaged entire future times,and have armed ourselves so completely! No nation of this year could withstand our might, if we so wished to sieze it!"
"We have seen the history of our brethren, Micah." Norrin stated in crisp tones. "No nation shall fall under our heel. It has been written! It never happens.We cannot change that which is already made."
"Then...why do we continue on?" the mate pushed. "What purpose do we serve in this continuous gamble, invading the realm of time itself?"
Norrin squinted at the man, a small smile creasing his lips.
"What else, my friend?" he asked, clutching his shoulder. "The adventure! We see things no man shall ever see! We go where none may follow! Is not that enough?"
The two men stared at each other for a moment, the chattering of the working crew behind them. Finally, a smile came to Micah as well.
"You are either the bravest man I have ever met....or the greates fool I have ever known..."
"Well....tell me when you figure it out, so that I might know myself.."
"And catch wind of your thunderous silver?" Micah replied with a grin, nodding towards the Baller .45 on Norrin's hip. "I think not."
Frasier laughed with a nod.
"Make sail, my friend."
Micah came to attention, and with a swift turn barked, "Raise the sails!!"
Large, billowing ivory rose in unison up the towering mast of the ship, the sea gripping the ship in its torrential breath.
Captain Frasier walked up to the bow edge, and leaned over to press a hidden button. A control panel flipped open, revealing a keyboard and screen. Micah typed in a few keys, stepping back to allow his Captain access to the panel.
Frasier pulled his leather glove from his left hand, a single ruby ring trapped by a silver band. He turned his hand, placing the ruby down into a slot next to the screen. Immediately, a hum vibrated along the decks.
The bow-spear, stretching out over the ocean in front, crackled with whisps of multi-colored light. A glow appeared at the tip-end of the spear, getting brighter, and brighter.
Even as the breeze pushed the enormous sailing ship forth, the spear crackled with an unearthly energy. Suddenly, the spear collided with an invisible force, puncturing the very air before them.
And, with that, the pirate ship Argolas rended the folds of time itself, vanishing...literally...into history...
