"We'll die?" Patton repeated. He glanced at Aaron. He was closer to the stairs than Patton was. That was fine by Patton. "I don't think you know who we are, mate."

"Don't I?" The guard marked his page in his book and closed it. He looked up at Patton. It was like he was looking into his soul. "You're Patton Picani, first mate of the Captain's Chaos. You have one brother who you love dearly but haven't spoken to in over 15 years, because he disagreed with how you chose to deal with the death of your father."

How in the Hell-

"And you're Aaron Jones." The guard wasn't even giving Patton time to process this. He'd moved straight on to Aaron, as if he didn't even care. "You enrolled in the navy at 15, before leaving a year and ten months later when your lover was killed for insubordination. You became friends with an older crew member of the Captain's Chaos, who enlisted you to join. After little to no deliberation, you said yes." He was reeling all this information off with the precision and monotony of someone who'd long learnt it off by heart. "He's dead too. But you think you can make a life for yourself in piracy. How can you, though, when death follows you everywhere? You can't possibly-"

"That's enough," Patton snapped. He looked over at Aaron. Poor boy was shaking. "Go upstairs, Kiddo. Get him out of your head."

Aaron stared over at Patton with wide, frightened eyes. He nodded mutely before, with another glance at the guard, turning and running up the stairs.

The guard raised an eyebrow and stood up. He placed his book on his chair neatly. Methodically, he started unbuttoning his coat. Silver button by silver button, all the way down, until it was completely unbuttoned. He took the coat off and hung it on the back of his chair.

Two gleaming American revolvers were strapped to his belt. They weren't like the one Remus had, they were sleeker.

Now that Patton thought about it, he had noticed a slight hint to the guard's voice.

"Now," the guard undid the buttons on his cuffs, "how do you want to do this?"

"Do what?"

The guard glanced up at Patton. He looked bored. He started rolling his left sleeve up to his elbow.

"Do you want to do this your way or mine?" He finished rolling his left sleeve up and started rolling the right up.

Patton pulled his musket out of his belt. He levelled it at the guard's heart.

"What's your way?" Maybe he could trick this guy and, annoyingly, he was intrigued.

The guard gestured to his revolvers. "Six bullets in each," he explained. "I can shoot your feet 11 times - or until I get bored of making you dance. Then, point blank between the eyes without getting a drop of blood on your glasses or your pretty curls."

Pretty?

"And my way?" This guy knew everything else about him, why shouldn't he know this?

The guard shrugged. "That's up to you," he said. "But if I had to guess..." He tilted his head to one side slightly. "Musket ball to the heart?" He sounded almost disappointed.

Well, at least this guy could emote.

Patton switched his musket from his right hand to his left. He pushed the flint forward. "Maybe," he said, trying to mask the small click. "Or I could just do this."

He swapped the musket around in his hand and raised it to hit the guard over his stupid head. He felt something grab him and then he was slammed against a wall. It knocked his glasses askew.

"Do you have any idea how predictable you are?" The guard asked, bored again. He twisted Patton's arm around until Patton dropped the musket. Patton could hear him but he couldn't see him. If he could get him distracted, maybe...

Patton tried pulling away from the guard, knowing full well it wouldn't work. The guard's grip on his arm tightened.

"If you really think you can escape, you're more disillusioned-"

Patton cut him off with a sharp kick to the knee. He felt it buckle and the guard toppled backwards.

He spun around and grabbed for the musket frantically. He snatched it up from the floor, fixed his glasses, and pulled the flint back.

"Up," he said, trying not to sound too shaken. "Get up. Now."

Slowly, the guard raised his arms. He stood up even slower. He looked almost angry. It almost made Patton laugh.

"What's your name?"

The guard raised his head. The way he held himself was almost defiant. "Doctor Logan Brown, first mate of the King's Loyalty."

"You're a doctor and you're working on a pirate ship?" Now Patton did laugh. "Bad choice, mate." His smile dropped. "Now, move."

LOGAN
Bye,
Blaize