Pyrates of the West Coast

[Pew]

::Bounding over two barrels waiting to be taken below I grab one of the suspects as Mr. Franklin cuffed the other. Wrestling each man away from the other whatever punches were thrown were quickly dispersed. Pulling each man up by the scruff on their collar, all four of arise to see a sword being levelled at us.::

[Bloody Bill Flint]

::Standing on the quarterdeck, Mr. Lasseter was scribing the list of new supplies and what-not into the log. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a smattering of sparks on the deck in the waist which draws his full attention, as well as a man swiftly moving to the other side of the deck. He dropped the log book onto the deck and bounded down into the waist, first to the sparks, which ended up being a tobacco pipe. He stamped on the embers, as he did so he heard the sound of fisticufs, or atleast a solid punch being landed. Turning to the sound he drew his sword, the metalic ring of the blade scraping free of the scabards' throat caused any person within ear shot to freeze. In four quick paces the QuarterMaster was in sight of the scene, two of the new crewmembers were having some sort of conflict, one was on his knees while the other yelled into his face... He leveled his Mortuary Sword at the two of them....::

Hold fast, you two!!! Wot's th' meanin' o' this! Tell me now 'r I'll 'ave yer hides!!!

Bill turned at the sound of the Quarter Master's voice. He held his fist cocked to land another blow to the man on his knees.

"Beggin' yer pardon sar, but we be in grave danger. This bilge rat has sold our hides to the French"

[CaptainCiaran]

(Ciaran heard the commotion and comes runnin' up to make himself useful if necessary.)

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Beggin' yer pardon sar, but we be in grave danger. This bilge rat has sold our hides to the French"

:: Mr. Lasseter cocked his head to the side...::

Sold 'r hides ta th' French.... Oh yer gonna hafta explain wot ye mean... An' yer gonna do it now...

Pass word fer th' Cap'n! I need his attention in th' waist!

Mr. Pew, fetch th' watch, roust out another ten lads an' arm 'em as well...

We just gonna sit right 'ere til Cap'n gets 'ere... I'll get him up ta speed, so lets hear it...

::The QuarterMaster drew his pistol with his left hand and laid his thumb on the lock... ::

[Pew]

Pass word fer th' Cap'n! I need his attention in th' waist!

Mr. Pew, fetch th' watch, roust out another ten lads an' arm 'em as well...

"Aye sah!!"

::Grabbing a few lads I run below decks. Causing quite a stir, several crew members are roused from their bunks and from their chores below. Removing the keys from my pocket I turn and yell to the last man in line to go above and fetch the Captain to see Mr. Lasseter topside immediately. As he turns and leaves each man lines up along the companionway. Breaking open the nearest crate I grab several doglock muskets and braces of pistols and give each to awaiting pairs of hands. Fetching a short sword and a brace of pistols, I swing shut and lock the door in the same motion.

With several pair of feet running topside, nearly the entire crew has spilled out of steerage and left supplies awaiting their proper placement.

When we finally reach the main deck the two men had been forced to their knees with their hands bound behind them. A small ring only large enough for those crew with the muskets has now encircled the two who were embroiled in the fisticuffs.::

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: as the crowd pressed in, Mr. Lasseter raised his voice...::

A'right alla you! back ta yer ease! 'sept you lads wot be armed... Double th' watch, keep yer eyes sharp... Off ye go now!

:: the hands looked at each other as the scene played out infront of them, at the prodding of the QuarterMaster and Master-at-Arms, the bulk of the crew went about their way... the watch and the ten newly armed men took their places about the deck...::

Mr. Pew... stay here with me... goode of ye ta pull extra pistols...

::He then turned his attention fully to the men bound infront of them...::

Now then... lets hear it....

[Bloody Bill Flint]

" Mister Lassiter sar, for some time now I've felt somethin' was not quite right wit the sinkin' o' The Dreadnaught. We'd been workin' the West Indies wit out trouble. Last time we made berth for supplies Tommy's waitn' on the dock wit a letter from the Admiralty says te push south and Tommy's been assigned to us. Then we get attacked by TWO French ships, just as if they was waitin' fer us. One I be willin' te dismiss as happenstance, but TWO? They knew our numbers sar. As I recall Tommy be keepin' close to the Cap'n, so he knew our course. Come te think of it Either Tommy or Jonas had watch each night in the days before we was attacked, volunteered for it they did. Then when the attack came , once I saw most of the crew be dead and we be burnin' and takin' on water I gave order to abandon ship. Tommy and Jonas had that launch ready before the words left me mouth, and they didn't leave their stations during the battle to do it, so how did they know? Then when Cap'n Brand sends me to fetch 'em Tommy tells me Jeffery's dead of some mystery disease and Henry be clapped in irons? Every turn I see these two secreting amongst themsleves. Somethin's a foot Mr. Lassiter and it be the devils work. One of these two men be a spy for the Frogs or both! Mark my words."

Jonas began sobbing

"Tis all true Mister Lassiter. That man Tommy, his name's Gaultier. E's an agent of the French crown wot steals aboard english ships disguising himself as a crewman then leading 'em te ambush. I caught 'im signalin' the Frenchies at night on his watch and he offered me a tidy sum te keep it under me hat. Me mum's real sick so I took his offer and been regrettin' ever since. Makes me sick te think of all those poor lads at the bottom. He's on his way right now te meet wit those french officers and make 'em take the Watch Dog before Billy here can spread the word. Please have mercy and spare me Mr. Lassiter, I only wont te make it all right!"

By now Bill had heard enough

"You can never make it aright!", he screamed"All me mates lost te the crushin' black cuz of the likes o' you!"

And with that he proceeded to shake of the pair of hand holding him on his knees and lunged towards McCormick bashing his head across the bridge of his nose and then locking his teeth where the man's shoulder met his neck. It took the efforts of no less than 7 crewmen to wrestle the big man away from the object of his fury, as they dragged him away he continued to curse the now prostrate bleeding and wailing tar.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: As the hands were dragging Billy Flint off of Jonas, Mr. Lasseter turned to Mr. Pew... ::

Keep yer eye on tha' one...

::He then turned and took two steps, planted the muzzle of his pistol in Billy Flint's cheek...::

Now listed here... You do that again on my ship... I'm liable ta do ye goode... All tha' can be righted will be... you simmer down now afore I clap ya in irons... I's sorry fer ye loosin' all yer mates on yer last ship... You leave th' rest ta us... Tommy, er wote'er his name be... an' Jonas... Now... You stay here... You come at anyone like ya just did an' it'll be bad fer ye....

::Stepping back, Mr. Lasseter looked over to where Jonas was now laying on the deck... Sighing in exasperation, he shook his head slowly...::

Send fer th' Surgeon... clean up this mess...

[William Brand]

William came on the gundeck so quietly that no one noticed him a moment. He had been in the lower companionway when the armed men had rushed up again with arms against the commotion above. Now William stood with his hands behind his back waiting for an explanation.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Mr. Lasseter put his sword back into its scabbard and switched the pistol to his right hand, he then noticed that the Captain was standing near by...::

Ah.... Cap'n... sorry ta disturb ye from wote'er ye was... Seems a plot been underweigh... Th' new lads.... Seems Tommy's a french spy tha' was aboard the Dreadnaught, had Jonas helpin' him by offerin' 'im some coin... Billy here found 'em out... I'll let 'em explain in detail...

::He leaned in closer and spoke low...::

This Tommy must be o'er on th' Le Requiem... I didn't see 'im aboard...

[William Brand]

William raised a single eyebrow.

"A French...spy...was aboard this ship and now he's gone to Fournier."

William wasn't sure what to do with this knowledge. The idea that a French spy would rush off to Fournier so soon after having been aboard the Watch Dog was laughable. If they were allied with any country at all, it was the French. William and Dorian exchanged a look and William almost smiled, but he didn't. He couldn't help wondering what was happening to Tommy Halsey at this moment. Tommy might be in the midst of a very strange reception indeed.

"Is Nathan Bly in the surgery?"

"Aye, sah."

"Then please confine Mister McCormick at the foremast under guard and bring Mister Flint to the ward room."

William turned and disappeared through the aft doorway.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aye Cap'n....

::The QuarterMaster walked over to Mr. Pew...::

You heard th' Cap'n... confine Jonas at th' fore.... I'll take Mr. Flint below...

:: Mr. Pew nodded and got several of the additional men on watch to take Jonas foreward... Mr. Lasseter then walked up to Billy Flint...::

A'right Lad... I dunno wot's in yer head... but you do somat stupid an' ye may find a bullet there... C'mon... we gonna go ta th' wardroom now... Cap'n will see you now...

::Mr. Lasseter held his arm out to show Billy the way, to walk ahead of him. Just to show he was serious he cocked the flint fully on his pistol, then walked a pace behind him... As Billy was given no choice, he walked under the quarterdeck, through the companionway to the door of the Wardroom...::

Go 'head, knock an' enter...

::Billy did as he was told, he knocked and opened the door.... there in the lantern light stood the Captain, his arms clasped behind his back...::

"Enter.... Gentlemen...."

Go on...

::Mr. Lasseter commanded, and Billy walked in...::

'ave a sit-down, there...

::Again Billy did as told....Mr. Lasseter shut the door and stood infront of it...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Gaultier forced a smile. God but the man was arrogant, just like all these sea captains. If it were left to him Robspierre would see them all swing from a rope after France ruled the world. Nonetheless he continued.

"Merci Capitaine. As you know we are at war with the english because they support the pretender Leopold's illegitimate claim to the throne of Spain while our beloved king supports his grandson Phillip's rightful claim. As such it is the duty of all frenchmen to curtail english power wherever the opportunity shows itself. The crown has charged me to do this by infiltrating the enemies navy in the New World and leading their ships to ambush. Normally the ship is boarded and I am 'taken prisoner' to be quietly released to continue my mission. This last time however proved most difficult. I was aboard a ship called Le Dreadnaught which had been causing us no small amount of grief in the West Indies. As such my chain of command decided that we would deviate from the norm and attack with two ships and I would slip away during the confusion in a longboat to be picked up later. I was to be joined by an accomplice who offered his services to the crown in exchange for gold coin. Before we could make good our escape we were discovered by two marines and the same number of sailors. I could not refuse them for fear of blowing my cover and exposing our operations if they escaped. There are others doing just as I am so it was better I persih adrift at sea with no one the wiser. Then we landed here. I was seperated from my accomplice and found myself the other two sailors. It was only a small matter to have them arrested by our Spanish allies, alas it became necessary to kill one of them during the capture,plus la pitie. Now my accomplice found himself of the company of the two marines and being welcomed aboard that pirate ship in the harbor so I too felt it necessary to go along until I could find a french ship to sink them. I am quite sure the one called Flint has figured me out so now his death is a necessity."

Gaultier stood then continued.

" Capitaine Fournier, je vous charge par la presente pour preformer votre devoir a Dieu et au pays. Vous ferez tout de suite des preparations avec tous autres Francais actuellement a l'ancre ici pour bloquer le port, et empecher l'evasion de pirates. Je ne suis pas un monstre si nous donnerons a un citoyens Francais a bord de La Montre Traque l'hasard pour rendre et est amene a bord Du Requiem. Alors nous l'enverrons et son equipage au fond, suis-je clair? "

Jean-Micheale Fournier watched Gualtier with neutral outward expression and when the man finished speaking in a manner underlaid with passion, he reached casually to the ever present crystal decanter of native spirit and filled a near goblet. Taking a sip from delicate vessel, the amber sights finally came to bear on the other who had remained standing and a low, wry chuckle was issued afore verbose.

"All other French ships, monsuier? All other? There is but one other in the harbour and it is but a simple merchantman. And as to these brigands that you are saying are to be kept from escape..." He sampled slowly from goblet once again. "I know of no pirates having anchorage in this port."

Fournier paused for a moment, swirling the goblet's content lazily and scrutinized the other closely.

"Monsieur Gaultier...If you are refering to neighboring fregate, then I fear someone has played for an imbecile.

The wry chuckle rolled forth again, but there was nothing that could be considered amusument showing in Fournier's eyes.

"The vessel in question and her Capitaine carry a Letter of Marque issued, signed and sealed by Monsigneur Louis-Claude Garavaque, Gouverneur du Martinique. And before you go so far as to question authenticity, I shall have you know, that I received said document personally and delivered it personally to Capitaine Hollande of vessel in question."

The goblet was refilled and sampled.

"Now Monsieur Gaultier, with the misleading information you have presented thus far, I am afraid that I shall have to demand further verification before persuing other request...C'est bien compris?"

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill did as he was told and sat with his cap in his hands staring at the floor and waited for the captain to address him.....

Meanwhile aboard Le Requiem Robspierre Gaultier was fuming inside himself. This pompous little captain was actually brushing him off! Didn't he care that there was a war on? And now he was demanding to see Gaultier's orders. He produced his charges from the king, letters from the admiralty, and the forged orders that sent the Dreadnaught to her doom. Captain Fournier examined each document in turn. When finished he simply smiled

"Il apparaîtrait que vos papiers sont en effet dans commande Monsieur Gaultier, mais hélas les restes de fait que Le Chien de Montre est sous la protection française et nous sommes dans aucune position de " bloquer " le port comme vous suggérez. J'ai peur il y a rien nous ne pouvons faire pour vous. "

"Then make up some charge and demand that Capitaine Hollande surrender Flint and Bly to you. They must not be allowed to spread word of my operations"

[William Brand]

William stood behind the table opposite Bill with his hands behind him. He was still wearing his baldric and sword and his face was an utter blank. It held none of the smiles it had before. It was a painting given life only by blinking. The last of the days light coming through the windows behind the wheelhouse and the flickering lamps of the room made William look strange. He looked at Bill for a very long time before speaking.

"I've borne trouble, Mister Flint. I have borne a great deal of it of late. I'm vexed with it at times...and I am weary of it. So do tell me, why I should endure more of it now?"

Bill didn't seem to know what to do with this question. "Sar...? Tommy was..."

William was already shaking his head. "Let me explain a few very important facts. Facts I believe you should understand before we continue any arrangement. I am not English. I am not Irish. I have no country. None whatsoever. I have lived in a dozen or more places throughout the greater globe and I can call no place home but here. My loyalties are to four dozen men and women who also call this place...this nation unto itself...home. I am privileged to call citizens of many nations my friends. There are no outside wars within my small borders, except those individual prejudices and bigotry which may exist privately among some members of this crew."

William poured a small glass of dark liquor and slid it across the table in front of Mister Flint.

"Prime the pump, sir, and tell me what you will."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Meanwhile aboard Le Requiem Robspierre Gaultier was fuming inside himself. This pompous little captain was actually brushing him off! Didn't he care that there was a war on? And now he was demanding to see Gaultier's orders. He produced his charges from the king, letters from the admiralty, and the forged orders that sent the Dreadnaught to her doom. Captain Fournier examined each document in turn. When finished he simply smiled

"Il apparaîtrait que vos papiers sont en effet dans commande Monsieur Gaultier, mais hélas les restes de fait que Le Chien de Montre est sous la protection française et nous sommes dans aucune position de " bloquer " le port comme vous suggérez. J'ai peur il y a rien nous ne pouvons faire pour vous. "

"Then make up  some charge and demand that Capitaine Hollande surrender Flint and Bly to you. They must not be allowed to spread word of my operations"

Lamaire and Chanault slyed glances to each other at Gaultier's rising boldness. Dominique was inwardly amused that his cousin would inevitably tire of the game afoot, that Jean-Micheale's tollerance scale would begin to tip and an abrupt halt would occure.

Fournier observed what Gaultier's body language betrayed like clarion call and considered the angles and lay of the "chess pieces" afore him. Waving away the agent's words like bothersome knat, he leaned forward slightly to fix his guest with an expression of sincere seriousness.

"Monsuier, as it appears that there is some threat to your person, it is only of proper protocal that I should offer you safe haven until able to put this situation in a more secure setting. Consider yourself an honoured guest aboard my humble vessel and to further ensure your safety, there will be a marin asigned to your person. I will look into this matter further, Monsuier Gaultier...of this you have my solem word."

The Capitaine recentered focus to the two Lieutenants by the door.

"Monsuier Lamaire, please see that our guest is given quarters of proper means and that the Cuisine is made aware to prepare what he requests for meal."

"Oui, Capitaine." Dominique slipped out leaving Chanault at the doorway.

"Put your mind at ease. I shall make it my utmost priority to attend to these matters. Un verre de vin?"

Fournier's valet appeared from the shadows with another goblet and filled its' content, handing it to Robspierre. The Capitaine gathered documents that laid afore him on burnished surface and handed them over to the valet. Gaultier opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by Jean-Micheale raising a finger to signal wait.

"Monsieur, documents of worth such as these should be secured not left loose. They shall be placed in safe keeping with other sensitive paperments and I assure that no harm shall come to them."

Fournier offered reassuring smile to his guest, but a word to the wise...

When a requin smiles at oneself, heed not the width of smile proffered; but instead make note of the teeth that make up the width.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

:: As the hands were dragging Billy Flint off of Jonas, Mr. Lasseter turned to Mr. Pew... ::

Keep yer eye on tha' one...

::He then turned and took two steps, planted the muzzle of his pistol in Billy Flint's cheek...::

Now listed here... You do that again on my ship... I'm liable ta do ye goode... All tha' can be righted will be... you simmer down now afore I clap ya in irons... I's sorry fer ye loosin' all yer mates on yer last ship... You leave th' rest ta us... Tommy, er wote'er his name be... an' Jonas... Now... You stay here... You come at anyone like ya just did an' it'll be bad fer ye....

::Stepping back, Mr. Lasseter looked over to where Jonas was now laying on the deck... Sighing in exasperation, he shook his head slowly...::

Send fer th' Surgeon... clean up this mess...

The Surgeon harkened to summons above wondering just what had inspired what little gleened from request. Her charge was resting although his repose was marked with small aggitations in which his features would pinch and fevered whisperings issued. Leaving Armand to watch over, she traveled the familiar by ways then to open air above.

A small gathering near the bow drew her attention and she assumed that the stir lay there abouts. Gaining the proximity, the men parted to allow admittance and she drew deep breath seeing the mauled features at center.

Tempest kneeled before the man in question, delicate brow creasing unconsciencously. There lay a measured amount of empathy on her angled face and when she spoke, it was with tempered sooth.

"I do not know what you have drawn upon yourself, sir. But we will do what must be done to ease your discomfort."

She looked away from Jonas to those ringing them and when she spoke it was with the tone of brigadier general, "Take this gentleman to the Surgery and do so with care. I wish to know who is responsible for this and where is Mister Lasseter?"

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Two crewmen jumped to attention and hauled Jonas to the surgery. When they had vanished below decks one of the crewmen aisded to Tempest

"Mistress Fitzgerald it were that new hand Flint, the big one. Seems that other fellow and one they call Tommy were mixed up in some dodgy military business that sent their last crew to the depths. When the big man heard this he went beserk and started doin' McCormick up a treat." His voice lowered to an awestruck whisper. "Took seven men te pull him off."

Meanwhile in the ward room Bill took the proffered drink and took a swallow.

"Cap'n Brand sar, I meant no disrespect aboard yer ship and I meant to bring no trouble , but it seems trouble be following at me heels these days. The truth of the matter is I be a colonial it makes me no never mind what the powers that be do in the old world. from my early years I were more concerned with waking up wit tommy-hatchet buried in me noggin' and me scalp hangin' from some Huron's belt. I bear no ill will towards any man based on where he be hangin' his hat, only thems that seek to do harm to me and mine. Cap'n me and Nathan we gots no where te go. Our famlies been kilt off longst ago by the red men and their Acadian friends. When the Dreadnaught were lost we figured we owed the english nutin' and saught to be makin' our own fortunes. Twas only once we be aboard the Watch Dog that Halsey or Gaultier er whatever the bastard calls hisself properly raised his true colors, though I've had me suspicions for some time, Now I fear I've put ye all in danger. Cap'n I be so weary of bein' mixed up in this I suppose it be fer the best if ye just hands me over te the French and went about yer business. Nathans like te die soon, an alls I ask is ye return him te New England but as fer me I not be about te bring ye more trouble. Jes have Mr. Pew take to the Requiem in the morning if'n ye please and let's be done wit it."

[William Brand]

"You fear you've put us in danger." William repeated as he refreshed Bill's glass. "Us in danger..."

Dorian and William exchanged their second knowing look of the evening.

"It might surprise you then to know that we suspect that we have some here aboard the Watch Dog that may be wanted for acts of pyracy."

William watched Bill Flint's face for some reaction and found some surprise there, but not a great deal of it. Bill might have surmised this for himself already and with good cause. After all, the Watch Dog was a crew of many mixed descents, living under the favor of the French and Spanish in Caribbean waters. There were many such crews afloat these days, but William wanted to bring this into the light. albeit partially, in order to see what Bill would say. When he said nothing and only just sipped his drink again, William continued.

"I do not feel betrayed by any mistake on your part, and believe me sir, I have seen treachery first hand and in recent weeks. As for Mister Bly...he is in the most capable hands imaginable and I believe if one can recover, then he will recover. I have seen our good doctor raise all but the dead. Your friend's chances are improved just by being in her presence."

"I am glad of it, sar." Bill managed.

"As for you, Mister Flint. You and you alone must decide if you will hang a hammock here. I have given you a day's work for which you will be paid. A day's work draws a day's pay and I will feed you while you remain. I had need of the laborers today. If the morning should come and you decide you will remain, than we will speak no more of the afternoon's incidents, provided you make yourself to understand those tasks required of you. If you choose to seek another berth, then that money earned and a days rations will be put into your pockets and you will be sent out again with your weapons and dunnage.

Mister Bly may remain as long as the Doctor sees fit to administer to him. Once a man, injured or ill crosses her threshold, then she and only she may dismiss him again.

If you reguire time to decide, you may make a place for yourself at the fo'c'sle. I only ask that you confine your movements for the evening. Do we have an understanding, Mister Flint?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Two crewmen jumped to attention and hauled Jonas to the surgery. When they had vanished below decks one of the crewmen aisded to Tempest

"Mistress Fitzgerald it were that new hand Flint, the big one. Seems that other fellow  and one they call Tommy were mixed up in some dodgy military business that sent their last crew to the depths. When the big man heard this he went beserk and started doin' McCormick up a treat." His voice lowered to an awestruck whisper. "Took seven men te pull him off."

The Surgeon watched after the injured man and his carriers until out of view, her focus remained at vanishing point as events were relayed to hearing. She thanked informant then scanned the small entourage, pausing at the presence of one man in particular.

"Monsieur Marchant."

Name called, the seaman removed his hat and stepped forward, "Oui, Doctuer?"

"Be so kind as to accompany me to the Surgery, s'il vous plait."

The native of La Rochelle stood a little straighter and suppressed a hint of smile at being singled out, "Avec plasir, Doctuer."

Tempest glanced to the surrounding men and gave a small nod to their attendance, "Gentleman..."

They stood aside and allowed her through, each grabbing a forelock as she passed. Marchant strode in her wake with a grin playing expression as if in silent chide to his companions to being called for to attend. Navigating through wooden passageway, she considered the situation that would be waiting beyond heavy door just ahead. The name of offender echoed her thought chambers; Flint...a newcommer himself. There was very little at her current grasp in regard to the man, their meeting had been brief at best before William's request.

The pixieish feature's reflected mental process running a fevered pace. The man in question was large in stature and on that alone, would be full and well capable of the flesh carnage she had seen, but something did not calculate properly in her contemplation. The quandry gave pause to Tempest's step, she was a quick study of human nature and in that brief meeting earlier what was gleaned did not logically warrant. There lay no sign of over aggressive nature in Flint's carriage, none in the windows of the soul; no...it was quite the opposit. Any man could be driven to an act of violence; desperate times called for desperate measures. The question lay in what would drive the man Flint to the extreme.

The summinization of variables continued to nettle her as large door was gained and Marchant swung it open to hinge protest.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The QuarterMaster stood with his back to the door in the wardroom, watching the interplay between his captain and the new crewmember. Not all was as it appeared to the new man and his mates that were just brought aboard. As the captain laid out the truth of the matter, Dorian heard some movement in the passageway beyond, the sounds of a combersome object being brought through and taken into the sick ward. 'Must be Jonas bein' taken ta th' Surgery', he thought... Turning his attention back to the conversation in the wardroom, he readjusted his grip on his pistol, not about to put it away until a calm state of agreement had come to be...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The conversation had been brief and hushed that sent Gunner Jacques-Patrik Marat from corvette's comfort. Lieutenant Lamaire had been very thorough in instruction and after a hasty exchange of clothing, uniform traded for common adornments, Marat had gained the nieghboring fregate's gangplank. There was no hesitation in his travel of angled bridge and he sidestepped proper proceedure of waiting below to be acknowledged. Calling forth in hail would allow all in surround to note accent, and the wide brim hat that concealed his features in shadow would then be an empty ruse.

He stopped just before actually stepping on weathered decks and when approached, addressed the officer that he was in urgent need of Capitaine Hollande's attendance. The officer scowled, but something in Murat's bearing told him that perhaps the visitor's presence should be heeded, and he went directly to the Ward Room.

[Pew]

::Watching the Frenchman stop just before stepping aboard the Watch Dog, I didn't know if he was here for the man we had under watch or for another reason. Trying to catch the Frenchman's expression was difficult. The brim of his cap had all but hidden his features, yet his bearing was that of urgency. Begrudgingly, I made sure that things were secure on deck and I went below to find our Captain.

Several crew had said they had seen Mr. Lasseter and the Captain in the Ward Room with the other man who had been in the ruckus topside. "Mr. Flint?", I interrupt as they continue. Nodding they point toward the Ward room and continue lighting the shaded lanterns below decks.

I spin about to reach the ward room. Two brisk knocks, then I open the door, "Cap'n, Mr. Lasseter, beggin' ya pahdon sahs, 'ere seems ta be a Frenchie topside askin' 'bouts fer an audience wif tha Captain. What'll I tell 'im?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: a knock at the door caused Mr. Lasseter to step away from the door, luckily he was quick enough to move as it swung open to reveal Mr. Pew...::

"Cap'n, Mr. Lasseter, beggin' ya pahdon sahs, 'ere seems ta be a Frenchie topside askin' 'bouts fer an audience wif tha Captain. What'll I tell 'im?"

::Dorian gave the Captain a look of "Now what?" then shook his head...::

Mr. Pew... I shall go attend ta th'..... frenchie.... stay 'ere an watch o'er th' proceedin's....

"Aye sah"

::Dorian nodded to William and as Mr. Pew stepped into the room, He patted the butt of one of Pew's pistols, and whispers...::

I dunno if all is at ease... be prepaired, ye might need ta use one o' these...

::with a nod he turned and shut the door behind him. At a quick pace, he made his way topside and into the waist where he saw the 'frenchie' standing at the gangway... he chacked his pistol, lowering the flint to half cock and slid the belt hook back onto his belt, then briskly walked over to the man waiting for the Captain...::

Bonjour Monsieur.... My apologies but the Cap'n's detained at present... I be th' QuarterMaster, Mr. Lasseter... wot might I do fer ye?

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Marat motioned for the Quartermaster to keep his voice down then stepped into closer proxy.

"Monsuier Lassetter, I have been sent by Lieutenant Lamaire of Le Requiem with a message of urgent nature for Capitaine Hollande. You will take me to him, please."

Jacques took a pace backwards and said no more.