Aran

The Pirate

 In the distance, reflected in his golden eye, was a wall of sand miles away. He turned and looked toward a younger man who had a black neatly trimmed goatee. The golden-eyed man held his hand out towards him and without a word being necessary the younger one handed him a pair of binoculars. Through the scopes of the device he could see better a swarming storm that seemed to rush towards him, but when removing his eyes from them it seemed like it hardly moved. Again he peered through and adjusted the focus.

"Seven hours at best, Boss." The young man spoke in a hard cockney accent.

The man tossed the binoculars back at the man as he walked past him, his eyes towards the unloading of a large cargo-bay of his flagship that was a bright silver with red and black lining. Several other men, by the mouth of the bay, were hauling boxes and equipment by hand. At the bottom of the ramp were a dozen carts, haulers, and fork-lifts that had been lost to the sand.

"Ain't no way we'll get it all in. We can't camp through it."

The gold eye looked back with a smile that lifted his black eye-patch, "We'll get it all. We'll camp here."

The younger man looked a bit unnerved by the command, but he smartly bit his tongue and instead requested with a buckled tone, "If I may, sir -"

"No." His lips became firm and straight, "You may not." He looked toward the massive wall of stone next to them, only a handful of meters from their flanks and just a bit more distance from the ships he had landed. "No one, Bradley." His golden orb furrowed under the serious frown, "Not a single soul is to enter it. To touch it. Anything more to be found other than this sun and heat is to be directly reported to me."

"Of course, sir. But the storm -"

"By Titan's moon, boy!" His accent cut through the air and although he hardly shouted the men hauling gear stopped to look over for a moment, "I'll gut ya' well! And before I hear more of this storm, I'll do it! I swear." He cussed once more, "Be lucky you're a cousin's son. Get to or I'll use you for a rolling log for the rest of the gear."

"Right away, sir." Without another word the man hurried through the hot sand toward the crowd of much larger men with much more soldierly faces and armor.

The captain of the small brigade of mad-men had his shining golden eye that seemed to stare everywhere and behind the black eyepatch was anyone's guess. There was a story about how the pirate-lord had no eyes, trading them to the space-equivalent of yggdrasil for endless intelligence and wisdom. The mythos was only supported by the flawless command and out maneuvering the federation on more than one occasion.

Over the years, and with expectations of many pirate-fleets, he had lost band after band of star-ferries by giving license to others in his rank to fly under his banner for themselves, and with it his own pursuits had changed from that of the common looting of ships and moons to the more esoteric desires.

"Then I will, Lee," A heavy voice with a similar city-of-London accent came from the opposite flank of the large man. "That storm will likely swallow us whole. What's more is that on the Beta the men couldn't stop talking about their brave captain." He paused with some care for his words, "Doubting your own sanity. They're half new, you know that, they had high hopes of robbing the cruisies. Maybe shopping for a pick and loosey.

"Now, I mannered them boys, well and good. Check the knots, they're what-for, speaking loudly and without pleasure for their lord. But theys ain't wrong for it. What we're here for." His voice trailed as he mused toward the large monolith they stood so pedestrian beside. "They doubted it with a jest before. But. But nows that we're 'ere. Well." He shook his head, "Captain, what the 'ell we doing here?"

It was obvious by the man's familiarity, tone, length, and lack of fear for the eyeless captain, he was second in command and the Captain certainly took it into account as he let the man speak on. "Jewely," He stepped to the brown-skinned man and placed his large hand onto his shoulder, "Know me for me."

"I do, Lee." He responded softly as if whispering from the touch of his commander.

"I ain't wasting anyone's time. Certainly not my own. And never yours." His golden eye stared back into the big brown eyes of his close friend.

"I don't need to hear it. I know, Lee." He paused and gave a subordinate nod, "Forgive me for doubting -"

The large tan hand patted Jewel's shoulder in confidence, "Enough," He smiled, "I need to hear it. Best to come from a man who had knocked me into proper sense in the past."

"You ain't your father's boy no more," He rumbled out a laugh.

"And you ain't my father's lackey anymore." The captain let his hand fall off the large shoulder in respect, "Nor mine. We set camp. The storm will peter out before reaching us. I promise."

The two shared one more stare before Jewel turned away, "I'll rouse the men. We had better make haste either way, eh?"

"Aye." The man looked away and turned back to see the wall of sand that approached in the distance. His skin had been pale at some point in his life, earlier, when he was younger. In the time in different climates and simply in the short time he had been on the sandy sphere that was the planet he had grown a few shades darker. His skin had become leathery through the ages of battle, but there was still an elegant handsome trim about the cut of his jaw and sharp cheekbones. Even his haunting golden eye seemed to stare at people just the right way. It would strike fear into the midshipmen and sweep a woman or man off their feet.

He was taller than most men and he was believed to be the largest man of all men, standing a few heads taller than the tallest men on the ship. On his flagship, simply known as Alpha, he had to modify the rig to support his height which meant gutting the entire ship and removing three floors of the originally ten floor star-gallion, and spacing out the now seven level ship to fit his awkward height. The next largest man on the ship was Jewel himself, a bruiser in his own right, standing at more than two meters, he only gave the look of fear twice and both were to the men of the same family.

His entire wardrobe had to be tailored to suit him and he was one of the few pirates to actually take with him such professionals with him in his fleet. His tailor was Bradley, the young brat wearing nothing to dignify himself as a raider, but none the less served as a soldier of the fortunate. The young man had fashioned for his cousin-uncle his three pointed hat that he rarely wore and it was most often found on the top corner of his captain's chair on the bridge of the Alpha. It did match everything else he wore though. On his shoulder was a long glistening and oiled leather jacket that was a jet-black, but under any light it glinted white and blue. The trim was originally a bright red, but over the wear it had become something more of a burgundy. At his pauldrons were round bucklers that clipped to white-golden chains that hung behind him a flowing light-blue scarf that went down towards the small of his back like a cape and curtain. Under all the leather and chains was a black vest and beneath it a white and golden vestment. His pants were like the material of his jacket, oiled and beaten, the bottoms tattered and dried up.

"Make a date with a tomb of sand if yeh move any slower, ya mucky-gits!" The roar of Jewel could be heard over the whipping sandy winds as he pushed large men about to hurry them along. "Move along or I'll feed ya to the black-moth of the sea! Move, yah?" He kicked another man's ass who was lumbering about too slow.

After a few more lofty shoves and lion roars the men became ordered, a few of them brushing past Bradley pushing the young fellow into the sand. Jewel came behind the finely dressed boy and pulled him back to his feet by the back of his shirt, "Make for and long, the abyss of black ain't do me harm!!"

So come then, for the fong! Harlots, thieves, and forgotten! Come along! Come along The men shouted back.

Roll! Roll! Hum it will, chariots run for, run! The space be full of our sons before we's done!

They continued their shanty cadence as they moved box and bins along lines of the brutes. Several men began opening up the boxes and pulling out the intricate pieces of gear as they small boxes unfolded into long tents.

Our boys we name for 'Lee, that is if we stayed to claim any! The endless black, that's our sea! The day is ours! Your ship we will seize!