Note, as you may know, I have been working mostly on my new frantic Dark Rift Extraction, a Halo / Star Wars fanfic. This is because I been having a Halo bug lol.
Tortuga did not sleep. It only quieted briefly, as though the island itself needed to catch its breath before resuming its habits of shouting, drinking, and setting things on fire.
Edward stood at the edge of the docks, arms folded, watching ships sway gently in the moonlight. Mira lingered beside him, her eyes tracking rigging and hull lines with a navigator's instinct. Crispin hovered a short distance away, as if proximity alone might invite disaster, while Dr. Finch sat on a crate sharpening her tools with unnerving calm.
The seagull perched on a coil of rope, staring out at the water like it was personally offended by the ocean's existence.
"We still need a helmsman," Mira said quietly.
Edward nodded. "Preferably one who knows which way is forward."
"And who isn't drunk," she added.
He winced. "Now you're just being unreasonable."
The seagull squeaked sharply.
"Yes, yes," Edward muttered. "Miracles happen."
They found him at the far end of the docks, where the ships were older and the crowds thinner. He stood alone beside a modest brig, one hand resting on the rail, gaze fixed on the dark horizon. His clothes were worn but clean, his posture relaxed in the unmistakable way of a man who had spent most of his life at sea.
Edward approached without his usual bravado. Something about the man demanded a quieter step.
"Evening," Edward said. "You look like someone who knows how to steer a ship."
"I do," the man replied without turning.
Mira lifted an eyebrow. That alone made him promising.
Edward continued, "You looking for work?"
"I don't sail for fools."
Edward smiled. "That's unfortunate. I am one."
The man turned then, studied Edward for a moment, and let out a short laugh. "Name's Thomas Reed. Former Navy helmsman. Left when they decided thinking was optional."
Mira straightened slightly. "You're good?"
Reed nodded once. "Very."
Edward held out his hand. "Edward Swann. Captain."
Reed hesitated, then took it. "Swann… of Port Royal?"
Edward grimaced. "Guilty."
"I heard you died."
"Briefly."
The seagull squawked loudly, as if confirming the statement.
Reed eyed the bird. "That thing yours?"
"Yes."
"…I'll need higher pay."
"Fair," Edward said. "Welcome aboard."
For the first time since Tortuga, Edward felt the crew gain weight substance. Not luck. Not chaos. Something real.
That left one problem.
"We still don't have a ship," Crispin said carefully.
Edward smiled. "Details."
Dr. Finch didn't look up from her instruments. "You intend to steal one."
"Borrow," Edward corrected. "Indefinitely."
Mira sighed and followed Edward's gaze across the harbor to a brig sitting quietly at anchor, its deck lightly guarded, its stores freshly stocked.
"That belongs to Captain Harlan Vex," Reed said. "Slaver."
Mira's jaw tightened. "Cruel. Careless."
Edward's smile hardened. "Then we won't feel bad."
The seagull let out a sharp, approving squeak.
They moved when the docks grew quiet, slipping across the planks like shadows. Reed handled the lines with practiced ease, Mira guided them through the dark, and Crispin clutched a pan with the expression of a man prepared to defend his life with cookware.
One guard turned
The seagull dive-bombed him without mercy.
The man went down screaming.
Edward blinked. "Efficient."
The ship was theirs within minutes.
Reed eased her away from the dock while Mira guided them out into open water. As Tortuga's lights faded behind them, Edward stepped forward, resting a hand on the rail. The deck creaked beneath his boots, solid and alive.
This wasn't chaos.
This was the beginning.
"What do we call her?" Crispin asked softly.
Edward thought of Elizabeth, of Jack, of a black ship cutting through moonlit water like a blade.
"The Wayward Star," he said.
The seagull squawked in approval.
Mira crossed her arms, eyes on the horizon. "Course, Captain?"
Edward smiled, the wind catching his coat as the sails filled.
"Toward trouble."
The ship turned south, her crew imperfect but determined, carrying Edward Swann back into the story the sea had tried and failed to take from him.