The Doctor

:: Jack is a bundle of nerves, like a racehorse saddled and bridled, only to be stripped and put back in his stall. He watches the Xebec sail slowly away, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He tries to force himself to relax when he remembers - :: I'll be blind and damned! The barge!! :: He storms to the starboard side of the deck, already drawing full lungs of air to bellow at the barge crew, whom he is certain has done little or nothing in his absence. To his happy surprise, Jacob has been tending to the final work on Samson. Her planking is replaced and caulked, a fresh mast in place with rigging and a brand new staysail, and the last bit of stain is being applied. Her gun even appears to have been reworked. Jack exhales in astonishment, and a broad smile breaks out across his face. :: Well done, lads! And Mister Badger! My compliments!! I am in your debt, sir!

:: On the deck of the French xebec, Jack and Miss Smith trade nervous glances. Jack was trying to puzzle out this whole odd scenario in his head; "...a well-kept French vessel, obviously fit out as a man of war, falls in with us, but takes no action. Turns out they're a ferry for our Surgeon, so they must be friends, but their Captain and ours seem more like two snakes waiting for the chance to strike the other first. Not a friendly situation, at all. I've seen moneylenders with more trust in their eyes than this lot..." A knot of dread was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach, and he found himself longing for the familiar confines of the Watch Dog. ::

A shirt made of chainmail. Sorry - had an SCA flashback! ... spastic Emo Phillips

chainmail hauberk

:: Jack hastily straightens his waistcoat, shirt, and hat, and hands the rucksack of pistols Mr. Lasseter :: Here, sir. Something tells me we won't be needing these. :: He hurries to rejoin the Captain's party ::

:: Jack answers the call to return topside. He arrives at the main deck just as a single salute is given by a sleek little ship passing off our side. He noted her empty gunports along with the fact that we'd not been called to quarters. Jack quickened his pace to get to the Captain's side, still carrying the rucksack of pistols :: You wanted to see me, Captain?

:: Jack stifles the look of relief that suddenly crowds his face :: Aye, sir. I'll distribute arms with the utmost care. You have my word. :: Jack heads for the Armoury, and once there, he sets about filling a small rucksack with six pistols, powder, and shot. :: No more than that, lest we risk general disorder. If it's known I have too few weapons as to affect mutiny, then we'll keep to the good side of things. Another trip, and things should be well in hand...

:: Jack makes to the main deck the the Watch Dog with all speed. The Capatin has apparently called for him, and and his mind races with what might be wrong now... :: Captain Redwake, sir! I'm here, reporting as ordered. :: All the while, Jack is thinking "Don't ask about the barge, don't ask about the barge, the barge does not exist..." ::

:: Jack jumps up, and smiles nervously at Kendra. He then begins to examine her handiwork, and is amazed at the quality :: Madam, there was no need for you to labor through the night on this, especially since you would have seen my men making merry on shore. But your speed does figure perfectly into my plans... Jack leans on the ship's rail and shouts "Damn you! It's a full bell past the end of last watch! Why's that mast not remounted? The carpenter's finished, the sailmaker's finished, what prevents a dozen strong men from refitting a bloody barge?! Your food and rum rations await ye, when I'm bloody satisfied ye've completed your tasks." Jack returns his attention to Kendra, who seems to have a bit of a smirk on her lips ::

:: Jack laughs, and comes forward to Kendra's place of lounging :: Aye! Such is the life of a sailor. Long periods of boredom, interspersed with moments of abject terror. And what say you, this fine day? I know that my men have been somewhat lacking in their duties as to the Samson, but they seem to have found the necessary inspriation to complete the assigned tasks...

:: Jack boards the Watch Dog and looks about her main deck. Everyone is standing in place, pensively staring at the hatch that leads to the sickbay companionway. Jack regards this fine example of breathing statuary, and pulls his knife from his belt. He begins to stroll aimlessly around the deck, cleaning his fingernails. :: I was once told that the members of a ship's crew are akin to the cogs in a vast, elegant machine. And if any of those cogs were to grind to a halt, the entire machine would suffer. More and more cogs halt their work, and soon enough, the entire machine is useless... :: An able seaman approaches Jack, barely fighting back tears. "But, sir! Monsignor Diego lies near death! We're all worried sick, guv'nah. What are we to do, but wait for word? Forgive my impudence, sir, but 'ave you no heart at all?" Jack considers the young man's concerns, and sheathes his dagger. :: Son, know this; Monsignor Diego is a dear friend. I more than risked my own life to ensure his care. I understand your worries, please, do not mistake that. But the Watch Dog is a living thing, as well. She needs your attention in order to survive. Diego is being tended to, and the rest is in God's hands. Your worry and idleness will not change that one whit. So busy yourselves, and make the differences you can, and forget the differences you cannot. We'll have the good Monsignor back among us, soon enough. I'll stake my word upon that. :: Jack walks to the stern of the ship and looks heavenward :: Don't be making a liar out of me, savvy?

:: Jack takes his leave of the Captain, and goes back to shore to see what the state of the Samson is today. His father's words ring in his memory; "Always expect what you inpsect, son. If you're the responsible party, then you must know firsthand that it's been done right." Jack smiles at the memory of his long-dead father, and quickens his pace to the barge. Jack stops mid-stride when he see's the condition of the Samson. No mast, the yard tossed upon the sand 2 or 3 yards from the boat, better than half her planking stripped away, rum bottles strewn about the workplace, and 12 souls still sleeping off the previous night's reveries. Jack steps lightly over the sleeping forms of his crew, climbing into the barge where he takes a seat at the bow. He pauses to regard the still-uncleaned Delilah, and draws a deep breath. :: A FUNNY THING, PROGRESS...!!!! :: Jack bellows this first statement, watching as the dozen men startle from their drunken sleep, frantically trying to grab something that might make them look busy :: ... It can only be measured if any has actually occured! Fancy that, eh? So! Given that Monsignor Diego lies near death, and the officers of this fine company are distracted, attending to the good Diego, you lazy droogs felt it was time to... what... celebrate? Celebrate a barge rendered bloody worthless? I've celebrated many things in my life, but never a half-started job, I'll be bound! :: Jack looks up and checks the sun :: It would appear to be half-past Noon. :: He whirls back to face his men, and walks slowly toward them, his hand nervously playing on the butt of his pistol :: Hear me, and hear me now. This boat will be replanked, caulked within and without, and remasted by four bells. And it will be done correctly. Have I made myself sufficiently clear? And no food until this work is completed. This is your doing, the lot of ye, and ye can argue with your bellies for all I care. :: Jack turns, and heads back to the Watch Dog, smiling to himself ::

:: Jack smiles wanly at the Captain's praise :: No need for thanks, Captain. We needed a doctor, and I was confident I could find an available one. I only hope that he'll be able to help the Monsignor. Two things, and I'll be back to me duties; If you wish, I'll work up an after action report so you'll the truth of my travels last evening. There seem to be a few fanciful ones being concocted overnight, and I want you knowing the truth. Second, Johnson gave me the coin for paying the good doctor for his services. :: Jack pulls the coin out of a pocket in his belt, turns it over a couple times between his fingers, and hands it over to the Captain :: I tried to pay him last night, but he seemed a bit distracted. I wanted to make sure all promises are kept, eh? Thank ye for your time, Captain. I'll be going back to my station. If you or Diego need anything, please ask.

:: After a sleepless night on deck, Jack has finished cleaning his pistol and examining his newly acquired firearm. At first light, he makes his way down the narrow companionway to Monsignor Diego's cabin. He stays in the shadows, not wishing to be seen by our newly-conscripted doctor. Diego is still feverish, muttering softly in his delerium words that only Ciaran, hovering at his bedside, can hear. Jack lingers long enough to catch the Captain's eye, and Jack, with a sideward nod of his head, asks to meet with the Captain in private. ::

OK, How's this? Then it's easy to believe Somebody's been lying to me. But when the wrong word goes in the right ear, I know you've been lying to me. It's getting rough, off the cuff, I've got to say enough's enough, The bigger the harder he falls. But when the wrong antidote is like a bulge on the throat, You runs for cover in the heat. Why don't they...

:: Jack, still kicking Deliverance at every stride, thunders down the road to the Watch Dog. The doctor is holding on to Jack and his bag for dear life, his eyes screwed shut in terror at the nightmare ride he's being subjected to. Once they arrive at the sandy beachfront of the Watch Dog's landing, Jack leans back in the saddle and sharply says "Whoa!" Deliverance digs his hind legs into the sand and slides to a stop. Jack hops from the saddle and drags the trembling doctor off the horse's back. :: Johnson! I believe this is the doctor good Diego is in need of! See that he makes it the rest of the way, good sir? :: He thrusts the doctor at Johnson, and winks :: He's a bit nervous. I'll leave it to you that he should feel welcome, eh?

:: within 45 minutes time, Jack arrives at the town. He rides to the tavern, and leaves Deliverance tied at the rail. He bursts into the tavern... :: Ahoy! Hear me now! Where be the surgeon of this fair town? Speak! :: He glares at the patrons, and they return his stare, utterly agog. Jack walks to the bar, and levels his pistol at the barkeep's head :: You. Now. Tell me, or pay dearly. :: The barkeep backs up until he runs into the cabinets behind him, and Jack notices a large wet stain forming on the man's breeches. Studying the mirror, Jack realizes that one fool wants to play hero. He spins and fires, striking the would-be hero in the chest. Jack strides forward and snatches the pistol from the dead man's hand, and turns back to the barkeep.:: As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, mate. Where be the doctor? :: The barkeep stammers a bit, then says, "Please, sir. We don't keep truck wif' pirates here." Jack's eyes narrow. :: Pirate or no, mate, you have to deal with me. The doctor's location, please? Before you are in need of his attention? :: The barkeep gulped, and pointed to his left. "That way, Mister. Two doors down. Bang heavy on the door. He's not a light sleeper." :: Thank ye, mate. For your troubles, and to ensure you'll not be following me... :: Jack takes his purse, containing his savings of 25 shillings, and scatters the coins at the barkeeper. He turns and runs out of the tavern, down to the door of the local physic. The lights are extinguished, and Jack bangs heavy on the door :: You! Doctor! Roust yerself, by God! I need your help! :: He hears some movement within, but is too impatient for pleasantries. He thrusts himself against the door, bursting it from it's latch, and storms upstairs. There, he finds the doctor struggling to pull a robe over his small, nightshirted frame. :: Ah, Doctor. Just the fellow I'm looking for. Forgive the pistol; I'm in a bit of a hurry. A dear friend of mine has been bitten by a snake, and is gravely ill. I need your help. I can pay handsomely, and will provide transport there and back. :: He levels the gun at the doctor's wife, lying trembling in the bed :: What say you, kind sir? :: The doctor agrees, and grabs his bag. Jack and the doctor race down the stairs. Jack mounts the horse, and pulls the doctor on behind him :: Wrap your arms around my middle, good doctor, and no ideas! :: Jack kicks Deliverance into a gallop, and they head to the Watch Dog at full speed ::

:: Jack took in Johnson's words, and his mind began to race. What ill omen is this, that our cleric should be felled by the serpent's tooth? No! Bloody children's stories! Think, you addled fool! You may have been marooned three years, of what they tell you, but the sun did not bake out all your brains! :: Right! Give me three things: your coin, your steed, and your solemn word that the Captain and Quartermaster know that I have taken your charge and will be back within 2 hours time, with some manner of physician in tow. Savvy? :: Johnson nods his agreement, and hands the coin over to Jack. Jack claps him on the shoulder, and throws his leg over the large bey gelding. He takes the reins and flexes the horse's neck to the left, then the right. His eyes narrow, and he speaks to his transportation :: I don't know your name, mate. But your mission is deliverance, so I christen ye such. Shall we? :: Jack digs his heels into the gelding's sides, and the horse leaps into a controlled run. Together, they charge off into the twilight, with the promise of Diego's life on their shoulders ::

:: The cart carrying Kendra and Simon, along with bundles of cloth, can be seen on the narrow road approaching the Watch Dog's landing. The cart is making slow progress, and Jack can be seen walking beside the horse, his fingers gently wrapped around the leather of the horse's bridle. The horse is limping on it's right front foot. Once they reach the soft, sandy soil at the end of the road, the horse's gait improves significantly. :: :: Jack smiles a self-satisfied smile, and turns to look up at Kendra :: You see? I told you it was not but a stone bruise. With a little rest, he'll be right as rain in a week or two. :: Jack pats the gelding on the neck, and scratches just behind the horse's jowl. The horse cranes his neck so Jack's fingers can get at the perfect spot. Jack looks back, smiling, and sees Simon scowling at him :: You know, mate... I'm beginning to think you don't care for me. :: Jack glances over to Kendra, who seems to be hiding a look of bemusement :: You did feed him today, didn't you? :: Jack laughs to himself and turns his attention back to the Watch Dog, and notices a decided lack of normal activity. He sees Jacob Badger on the main deck, motioning for us to hasten our approach. :: Merde. Something's gone badly wrong, or we've joined the Royal Navy. :: Turns quickly back to Kendra and Simon :: I'm going on ahead. I'll leave the horse to you, but no faster than a walk, am I understood? :: Jack takes off at a dead run to the ship ::

Aye, Monsignor. A cutlass, two pistols, shot, and powder. And your blessings, I take it? :: smiles warily at Kendra :: And please convince her that she may need my protection?

Annoying hippies... Sorry, I was hung up on the brown-eyed women thing, and got distracted. The ones with really large breasts... You know the type... :)

Monsignor Diego! With your leave, and that of Mr. Lasster's, may I accompany Miss Kendra and her... :: makes his way warily around Simon :: very large companion to town to fetch the necessary supplies for the refit of our barge? There may be highwaymen about, and I'm more than capable with pistol and cutlass to protect our party. :: catches Kendra's impatient look once more :: You're doing... that... again. Have I made some offense?

One last piece of my birthday cake - German Chocolate!

Grenadine!

:: Jack steps nervously aboard the Samson, and sets about servicing the boat's single swivel gun, the Delilah. He shoves his fist into it's muzzle, and draws it out pitch black. "Oh, my, but you are a dirty girl, aren't you?" he mutters. He winces at the thought of having the gun stripped, bored, polished. He casts a glance back to the shore, where he sees Kandra and Simon in an animated conversation. Simon catches his gaze, and Jack nervously smiles and returns his attention to the gun. In doing so, he almost slips and falls into the water, but catches himself at the last moment. He then sets about muttering to himself as he often does :: Damn it, Jack... haven't ye learned not to get your fool head turned by every lovely lass that catches your eye? Granted, she's uncommonly beautiful... Bah! She looked straight through you, ye gob. And that Simon character... what's his story? Aside from the obvious urge to feed him plantains, of course....