Captain's Log: Day 3
The death of the ship’s sailing master,
Trundle, lifted the crew’s spirits. The storm dissipated by nightfall and the crew all dined together in the juniors’ mess.
The officers, confident that there are no more traitors among the upper ranks, finally feel as if they are able to relax in each others company. They all sit around the same table and laugh as the gunner attempts to beatbox and play the harmonica at the same time.
No one talks about
Trundle. For a couple of hours it’s as if he,
Kuma, and the rest of the pirates don’t even exist - even though the seven empty seats in the dining hall serve as a constant reminder that there is still trouble afoot aboard The Bellarbor.
The quarter master pours another drink. “I don’t want to bring you all down, but dare we talk business?”
“Why not?” The surgeon holds out their cup too, not in the slightest bit worried that the quarter master would attempt to spike it. “Who knows if we’ll all be alive tomorrow to do so over breakfast?”
“I won’t be,” says the boatswain, “I’ll be officially dead until noon. No one try to wake me.”
“Can’t handle your drink?” asks the surgeon.
The boatswain’s cheeks flush as the other officers laugh. Immediately the quarter master is leaning forward to top up the glass.
Everyone’s attention is quickly diverted as one of the sailors rises from her chair and clears her throat. “Hi guys. Uhh…”
The officers immediately hush and the rest of the deck soon follows. Her shoulders quake and she can feel beads of sweat dripping down her sides as all eyes fall on her. Up until now,
beary509 hadn't exactly made her mark as one of the ship’s strongest sailors, but this afternoon she proved herself to be more than capable when she took the wheel and safely guided the ship through the tail-end of the storm. Knowing of her own innocence, she needed to clear suspicion off of herself and the comrades who had also been left in charge of the quarterdeck during
Trundle’s absence.
“I know we shouldn’t talk about this while celebrating,” she says, “but I wanted to bring up the fact that one of our senior officers died today.”
A swabbie claps their hands. “Thanks for the newsflash, dumbass.”
The lower ranks cackle. The gunner slams his glass down.
“Oi! Let the girl speak.”
“Thanks.”
beary509 takes a deep breath. “But, in all seriousness, I’m going to confess that myself and three other sailors have been working closely with the sailing master since we set sail - but we had no idea that he was one of the traitors.”
“Yeah right,” one of the sailors says.
“I’m serious!” she says. “We’re innocent. Everyone I was working with gave me their word that they had nothing to do with
Trundle.”
“That’s all well and good,” the boatswain interrupts, “but, even if you are innocent, how do you know that one of the people you were working with isn’t lying to you?”
“B-But…”
beary509 trails off. She looks down at her feet, but the words just won’t come to her. “I don’t know how to explain it - it’s harder to prove a person’s innocence than it is to prove their guilt. But it’s a gut instinct and after two days of closely working with these people I trust them.”
The surgeon snorts. “You’re being played, princess.”
Several of the sailors appear to have tuned out, losing interest in
beary509’s speech. But the gunner understands that - that gut instinct. That was what initially led to the gunner extending an invitation to
Kuma to go for a drink the night before.
“I’m going for some fresh air,” the gunner announces.
The surgeon gives a wave before turning to the boatswain. “Hey, drink up! Me and the boss here are ready for another round.”
“I’m not the boss,” says the quarter master.
“Sure you’re not.”
Leaving the other officers to tease the boatswain, the gunner approaches
beary509. No words are exchanged: merely a tap on the shoulder and a nod of the head communicate the gunner’s message: come with me.
Although the sea has now calmed rain still falls on-deck. Everything is drenched.
“Watch your step,” the gunner says.
“Aye aye.”
The gunner pauses at the main-mast—where the sailors had once tied up
Stargazer741—and turns around to lean on it. From here, it’s easy to keep an eye on the door they just came out of.
“Who were you working with under
Trundle?” asks the gunner.
beary509 lists the names of her comrades. After, she adds, “but I assure you they’re all innocent.”
“You believe them?”
“I do.”
“Did it not cross your mind that they could be deceiving you?”
“They wouldn’t,”
beary509 says, “they’re my friends.”
“Friends?” The gunner snorts and reaches into their pocket, producing the trusty pistol that had killed
Kuma just yesterday night. “You’re on-board a cargo ship, in the middle of the sea, that has been infiltrated by pirates. How can you genuinely call anyone you meet here a friend?”
“I trust them,” says
beary509.
The gunner aims his weapon at her. “At sea, this gun here is my only friend.”
“I saw you joking around with the other officers earlier,”
beary509 says, “wouldn’t you call that friendship?”
The gunner lowers both his pistol and his gaze. Pictures of their faces come to mind: the surgeon; the boatswain; and the quarter master. Could they really be friends?
“We work together because we have a common goal,” says the gunner, “we drink and joke around together to pass the time. There is no place for friendship when anyone around you could be your enemy in disguise.”
A gunshot.
beary509 keels over, landing at the gunner’s feet.
The doors to the mess hall are thrown wide open and the crew coming running out onto the deck.
“What did you do?” demands one of the crew.
“N-Nothing,” the gunner says, “I mean it - I didn’t shoot her!”
The surgeon barges through the crowd, dropping to their knees beside
beary509. A quick glance is all it takes to know that she’s not going to make it.
“The bullet went through the back of her skull,” the surgeon says, “it doesn’t take a genius to work out that our gun master here couldn’t have been the one to do it.”
“But then who shot
beary509?”
When no one can answer that question, the crew take an impromptu minute of silence for their dead comrade before disposing of her body in the sea.
beary509 the
Sailor was used as a human shield.
You have 23 hours to decide which of you will walk the plank.
