May the Father of Understanding Guide Us (Open)

Roger heard the familiar voice and half wanted to tell him to leave, to head back to his ship and sail away. Roger would tell the crew to fire, and the British wouldn't suspect anything less than a talk of surrender that went awry on this boat. But, he knew better than that now. For now, he'd tell them what was true.

"British ship. Watchin' yoors, by what Ah can tell."

He sighed, as he lowered the spyglass and tucked it into his belt. He was sure whoever gave it to him would be able to get a new one next time they got into a fight.

"Calm doon, Liz. We're privateers. Weel, you are - ahm an Admiral. If they even consider daein' anythin', they'll have th' law of th' British Royal Navy oan them."

He looked at the ship Damien and Jonathon had come in on, and sighed. No matter what he said, she was still right.

Damian nodded, and, seeing Elizabeth beginning to tear up, Damian motioned for his brother to follow him, and, flag in his hand, said, "C'mon. If we can't out run 'em... we fight.", as he ran past one of Elizabeth's crew members, Jonathon following him, as he leaped towards his ship, barely grabbing onto him, grabbing Jonathon's hand aswell. After they boarded onto the ship, Damian pointed towards the wheel, and said, "Lower every sail. I'll work the flag.", as he ran up towards the top, propelling himself with a rope, as Jonathon quickly manned the wheel, ordering for the men to go into full sail.

Elizabeth quickly raced off to change the colours once again. She knew that there would most likely be a battle, and she would not kill her friends, nor let the British kill them. She looked at the British ship, and growled; all her hatred for the British expressed in a sinister sound.

"Jaysus Christ almighty in a maelstrom!" Elizabeth wiped her face as she tried to come up with a plan. She had two, and neither of them would end well. "Kill my last friends? Help them escape, and as a result, be captured by the British, and executed like Kidd? Or sink the British ship?" Only one option ensured the survival of all of them, but it would cost her dearly.

Roger looked over his shoulder, and was caught off for a moment when both the brothers were gone, as well as the ships captain. He looked back to the ship and groaned, before looking up to see the flags changing hands, and of course, by none other than Elizabeth. She was being smart, and at the exact same time being very stupid.

"Bloody Hell."

He looked over the crew and groaned again, wishing he had any sense of command. He ran off to the nearest lift, loosing the rope and feeling himself fling up to the top platform in the midst of the masts. He wasn't going to have this all turn back around. He wasn't going to have Elizabeth give into her vices, and go back to how she was.

"Elizabeth! Liz! Stop! Yoo're not thinkin' clearly, this'll pit yoo reit back on their radar! We're not in th' caribbean anymair, we can' jist pick fights wi' any ships we see an' hope no a body hears abit it!"

He stood on the edge of the top, trying to keep himself calm - he wanted to just hold her back. He didn't want her to watch as her friends were attacked, but he had faith that they'd hold their own. He didn't want to see a fight that didn't need to involve them turn her into a criminal again. If the British got too involved with her, and someone, anyone, found out or recognised her as Elizabeth Shay, than they'd be doomed.

Elizabeth finished setting up the British colours, and hung her head as she folded her old colours.
"I know, Roger. But I'm not going to let a child grow up without a father, and I won't allow another woman to become a widow." She looked up at Stodd, and stood tall. The last time they sailed together, she was on his ship, but now the roles were reversed. Luckily, she was in no mood for a fight. Her only option now was to run, and pray to whatever gods would listen for the safe escape of her friends. Elizabeth leapt onto the hook, and went sailing down to the deck. She started barking orders to her crew as she manned the helm, and she prayed for an escape.

Roger drew up his spyglass, glad she was going to run. He watched the British ship from afar, grimacing. It wasn't moving, but he could see all the little red blurs, marching around and scurrying. Some were stopping at the cannons, others seemed to vanish below the deck. He could see one, with a hat, waving commands at the rest of them. He'd thought the ship was large and far away, but judging by the amount of people he was seeing, he'd been wrong. He didn't recognise it. He waited, holding his breath.

Then, the ships sails came loose in a pristine, snow white cascade, and the ships began to turn. It wasn't taking the chance to loose the tail, and Roger wondered only for a moment why it was dedicated to this cause.

He remembered, as if by the hand of a silent being handing it to his mind, what the terms of the Elizabeth's surrender had been. Her crew, her fleet, her allies, they weren't allowed to act up. They had to remain silent as the grave, not to fire upon other pirates, other navies, anything. They had to lay low. That had been the agreement, and it meant that the British would have eyes on every one of them. By the looks of things, these two had garnered special attention. When the ship came close, Roger felt his knees shake, as he began to realise what it was.

"Liz! Liz!! It's some sort ay schooner! But it's far an' a ways bigger! We need tae haul ass!"

He knew British schooners, they weren't strong but they were fast, normally used for scouting operations. Some on the American continent used for trade had employed larger hulls and more masts, making them tougher and even faster, if not more agile. And it looked like the British were using them as well now.

"The Siren is a floating fortress, Stodd! She's a fussock she is! Fat and slow! She's built for taking ships down, not chasing them, nor running from them!" Elizabeth didn't know what to do; she had hundreds of ideas running through her head. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her to blow the British schooner out of the water. Her old instincts were threatening to surface. Everything she had fought for was slipping away. She went white when she realized the only thing that she could do to save them all. "God have mercy on my soul for what I am about to do. Just let us get out of this alive." Elizabeth turned to Stevens, and hung her head. "Hide the women."
"Captain Shay... No."
"Just do it, Stevens. Have the men haul in every sail." Stevens led the women into hiding, and the men hauled in the sails, and dropped anchor as Elizabeth made her way to her cabin.

Upon seeing activity scuttle on Elizabeth's ship, Damian yelled down onto his, "Full sail! We must leave, now!", as men on his ship ran about, yelling at each other. Finally, after a bit of confusion, the sails were lowered, the wind pushing against them, as they sailed away, backs towards The Siren. Damian, not wanting to risk jumping down and landing in the water, stayed up close at te crow's nest. Looking back down, towards Jonathon, yelled, "Turn 'er right! We're headin' east, turn right!", as Jonathon, forcefully, turned the wheel, sliding a few men around the ship.

Roger blinked, rather confused as the ship came to a sudden stop. For a moment, he was very glad he was still on the deck, before remembering he wasn't. He grabbed the nearest rope, gritting as he slid about three feet, leaving a painful burn. He looked down, sighing, before looking back up to the top he used to be standing on. Grumpily, he made his way to the deck, watching as men and women shuffled below deck.

"Liz, what's goin'... Liz?"

Only then did Stodd notice that Elizabeth was not amongst her crew, meaning she was either below deck (unlikely) or in her cabin (very likely). Why that was, however, was lost to him. He made his way into the quarterdeck, before knocking on her door softly.

"Elizabeth?"

---

"Fire a warning shot at that fleeing ship. Make sure it stops dead in its tracks, like the wise privateers did. If they halt, pull up next to our comrades. If they don't, fire two more shots. If they don't stop after that, take out the masts."

Elizabeth sat in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth. She had changed into her more womanly clothes.
"For the greater good, I do what I must.
May the Father's light guide me,
And know that I have served well.
Bring order to the world,
And guide the wayward flock.
Peace through order,
By any means." Elizabeth packed her pipe with hemp, and threw in some opium for extra measure. What she was about to do would not only bring about her death if things went horribly wrong, but it would break her and rob her of what little dignity she had left. She might never be the same again, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. The drugs would hopefully help numb her senses.
"Let those who are dying, live forever.
Let those who fight, find peace.
Let those who live in darkness, find the light.
Guide us and give us the strength we need.
The strength to find the light in the darkness.
The strength to fight for peace.
The strength to die, so that we may live forever." She barely even noticed Stodd.

"Liz... What're yoo..."

Roger stood in the doorway, not sure if he was going to block her or let her by. He wasn't even sure what she was doing. He watched her and heard her, every movement and sound, he was trying to comprehend her words but in the end... He just wasn't able to. He had to assume that there was good reason for what she was doing, but then again, if this was anything like he was expecting it to be, he'd sooner die than let her go through with it.

"Stoop whatever you're daein'. Now."

"But it's the only thing I can do, Roger. I can't kill them, and I won't let them kill any of us." Elizabeth looked up at Stodd with tears in her eyes. She wasn't about to just hurt herself, but she was going to hurt him too. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do. "Please, Roger... please tell me that you have a plan, ideas, anything!" Elizabeth buried her face in her hands, and trembled. "There's only one thing I can do, but that's only if there's no alternative. I really don't want to..." She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "I'd rather blow them out of the water, return to a life of piracy, and be stretched by the neck than go through with this."

Roger didn't even hesitate to embrace her, holding her against him and stroking her hair, trying to think. He had to think of something, not for himself now, not for a crew of men and fighters, but for a her, a warrior and a legend, broken down after the world had done her wrong, too much wrong. He had to pay for his own sins, he knew that, and as he thought he hoped that now would be his moment to do so. He had to repent not just for himself, but for her, for the woman he'd lay down his life for if the sea demanded it.

"Do not come out of thes room. Do not stain at th' windae. Do not press yer ear tae th' doors. Do ye understand me?"

He held her back, looking into her eyes with his own deep burning ones. She could see it, he knew she could see the passion and the purpose in his eyes. He just hoped she trusted him enough to do as he asked. If this ship was British, commanded by the British, adhered to by British law, they'd see Roger, parlay words, and then move on. If not... Well, that wasn't an issue yet.

---

"Fire another warning shot. If that ship moves another hundred yards, aim for the deck."

Hearing the second warning shots, Damian winced lightly. Still at the top of the ship, or near it, more so, he turned towards the British ship, and did one of the most ancient things known to be an insult. He flipped them off, profoundly shoving his hand with the middle finger sticking up towards their direction. Looking back, he said, "Keeo goin'! Don' hesitate tah stop when they fire after we travel a hundred or so yards - no mattah wha', we got's tah return!", as he faced back towards the ship, and began waving around his other one aswell.

Elizabeth simply held onto him, and let the tears flow. She didn't know what he was going to do, but she was thankful she didn't have to use her body to get them out of the mess.
"Just be careful. I don't know what I would do if I lost you." Elizabeth wiped some tears from her eyes, and looked up at him. "Take Dawson or Stevens with you. If things go wrong, I'd rather have one of them at your side." She hadn't thought that he would have such an impact on her life, yet there he was, about to save her from humiliation.

He nodded, and moved her to a seat, pushing her down and kissing her head softly. He stood up and went to leave, only to turn back around and kiss her proper, wrapping his arms around her. He had a plan, but he had no idea how it could end. He didn't want their possibly final moments to be so mediocre. He let her go and smiled.

"I love you."

With that, he left the cabin, shutting the door behind him and covering his face. When he looked around, he saw both Dawson and Stevens standing by the doors. He held back tears, and cleared his throat.

"Stevens, watch Liz. Dawson, with me."

Roger marched out onto the deck, where he took a deep breath, cleared his throat again, and tried to concentrate as best he could, given the current situation.

"Men, I am in command of this ship now. I want all of you on guard. We're going to hail that British warship over, and we're going to have a very formal, very serious talk. I do not wish to see any funny business here. They will be threatening, they will try to be intimidating. Show them you're not just a ragtag team of soldiers. If they fear you, as they intend to have you fear them, this will go swimmingly."

He made his way up to the wheel, as men scurried around the ship, loading up guns and cannons should things go awry, as well as ensuring that if the situation went truly poorly, the women would be able to get out from the bottom decks fine. Roger breathed coolly, trying to keep a level head, as he waited. It seemed that the men on the other ship had some sense, and soon made to run up along side the Siren, but not before doing what it needed to; one chain round flew through the air, and tore down two of the main masts of the fleeing ship. They'd be able to move, but they'd be slow now.

Roger grimaced, and hoped he'd convince the British to led them go.

Elizabeth said softly. She was completely unaware that he had left the room. She staggered over to her bed. Panther curled up beside her, and rubbed himself against her. In her heavily altered state, she just lay on her side, and tried to calm down. However, she couldn't help but worry about him.

---

The crew had no objections to Stodd running the ship for a while. They respected his authority much like they would Elizabeth's.
"Ah, captain Shay would have something to add to your little speech. She may still be young, but that doesn't mean she's not as sharp as the rest." Dawson had actually improved in character over the past few months.

"Dawson, I need you to promise me something."

Roger didn't avert his eyes from the British, moving in slowly and cautiously. Whoever was in command had as much trust as he did; none. He looked to the man by his side, gazing into his eyes. Dawson seemed trustable. Elizabeth placed her faith in him, after all, and as far as Roger was concerned she wasn't a poor judge of character. She'd trusted him, and look at how far they'd come. She'd trusted her friends, and even after everything they'd lay down their lives for her. Yes, Dawson was a good man. He had to be.

"If this turns into a fight, don't worry about me or anyone else up here. Get Elizabeth to safety. If the British board this ship, they'll kill every man they see, and worse to the women. Get Elizabeth somewhere safe, and keep her quiet and safe. If they chase you, if they find you, if... if anything happens..."

The British would have him killed; Roger knew that if they didn't believe him for who he was they'd call him a liar and end up linking him to his own assumed murderers. Most of the Admiralty knew he was alive, but when it came the common sailor, word of his defeat had spread far faster. They probably thought him dead. Once they had his head on a pike, along with the rest of the crew, they'd have their guns turned to the pirate ship not far off. Everyone dead... There'd only be one person left that Roger could think of...

"Get her to the Caribbean. Find Tiago. Make sure the two of them have each other. I don't care if you lose fingers, your hands, your eyes, everything but your life. Just make sure she's safe. Make sure she's happy. Make sure that she has that child to care for, and make sure she keeps him safe and happy as well. Keep her from the Assassins, from the Templars. Here."

Roger drew a letter from his coat pocket, a letter he'd received about three weeks ago. It was open, but it was important. The Admiral tossed the letter away, and held the interior, the chart that had been in it. He held it open, showing a map of the East Indies. He pointed to the northern-most isles, the Philippines.

"One of the first maps of the East Indies properly drawn out. I want her here. She'll be safe there, for at least some time. The Templars are in China, but they're not here yet. Not yet..."

He folded the chart up and handed it to Dawson, before returning to his sentinels watch of the incoming British ship, slowly coming in to a halt by the side of the Siren. When Roger saw the captain of the ship, his stomach sunk.

"Well well. If it isn't the unkillable Roger Stodd. Perhaps I should put that to the test."

Dawson stood tall and proud at Stodd's side, he despised the British more than anything, but he had learnt to hide it well. He knew his captain better than anyone, and there was only one way she would leave the West-indies, and that was by force. He knew that if anything happened to Stodd, it would destroy her. Nonetheless, if push came to shove, he would make certain that she made it to safety.

---

"Come on, captain, let's get you cleaned up." Elizabeth mumbled something inaudible in protest, but finally gave in. She managed to put a pair of pants on, and Stevens helped her with her coat.
"Oh God!" Elizabeth quickly grabbed a bucket conveniently placed for situations such as this. She sat on the edge of her bed as she was violently sick.
"Oh dear. How are we going to get you out of this mess?"
"Shut up, Stevens" Elizabeth growled.

Damian, with his ship know going extremely slow, was, suffice to say, Pissed. He had those sails specially customized - not even a month ago, none the less - only to be ruined by a British ship, and they were now at the bottom of the ocean. On the ground, now, off of the remaining mast, he walked to the back of his ship, and considered shooting at them with a rifle. He decided against it, and simply continued yelling obscenities of their mothers, their wifes, and the empty hole in between their legs, much to the annoyance of his Borther, Jonathon, who heard each and every one of them.

Stevens tried his best to get his captain into a better condition than the state she was currently in. He helped her with some of her assorted concoctions as well as some medicines they had stolen from various ships. She wasn't in any shape to fight, but she was, at least, able to flee should the need arise. Elizabeth made sure that everything of importance was in one place before she lay down to try and sleep away the rest of her state.

"Captain Daniel Whitehorn. Got yourself command of a new ship I see. That's fortunate."

The captain leant against the side of his ship, smirking down at the Admiral. From further away the schooner had seemed notably smaller. It was a bizarre ship, that's for certain. But, Roger had to be civil in this rather annoying situation - not point raising insults or worse over something like this.

"I certainly have. The HMS Fortunate. Not unlike your old ship, designed the whole thing myself. The idea is fairly obvious, of course; outrun anything that tries to move. I wish those pirates had gone a little faster, we'd have had the runts under us in minutes."

Roger moved his hand over to Dawson's, stopping him from pulling his gun out. Roger cleared his throat, looking at the men on his own ship, all relishing the chance to fire on the British ship.

"They were part of that fleet the Demon, or the Devil, or whatever her name was had made to beat us a few months back. Reports have come in that other members of the pirate fleet you let go have started committing crimes again, and as the pardon said, as soon as they do that, they get the noose. I'm just following your very own orders, Stodd."

"Those men have turned good, Captain Whitehorn. They're naught more than humble merchants now, just like most of the pirates who were fortunate enough to survive that battle. If it were up to me they'd be part of the navy, but we were never given the chance to offer them that pardon. You've no right to fire upon them, nor any right to hassle them as you have been. And I'll remind you not to talk down to me. I am an Admiral of the British Royal Navy, and your superior officer."

Daniel snarled, looking from the 'merchant' ship back to Roger's. He looked the boat over and smirked, scratching his chin. He'd grown a bit of a beard since last they met - a time neither of them would forget, when Roger buried his blade into Daniel's chest.

"What's this barges name, then?"

"This is the HMS Shay. It was given to me under the orders of Admiral of the Fleet, Viscount Torrington. He knew me skill and trusted I'd needed nothing larger than this."

The Captain nodded, looking up at the British flag flying from the ships main mast. He then looked to the men, and frowned.

"Might want to remind your men to dress proper. They're in r-"

"We were running reconnaissance. Rumour had it that some ships were out here hassling merchants and travellers and the like; hence why we were out here at all. Of course the whole plan's been botched with your loud unwarranted presence."

Daniel stood up and straightened his coat, moving to the helm. He spoke loudly, so everyone on their ships could hear.

"Whatever you say, Stodd. I'll go and check on that 'merchant' ship, see that their supplies are intact. I hope to see you again, perhaps on the battlefield."

Roger nodded, tipping his hat.

"Of course, Whitehorn. It would be an honour to fight by your side again.

""That's not what I said."

As the British ship sailed off, Roger took a long, deep, pained breath, rubbing his face slowly. He looked to Dawson, and gestured to the lower cabin.

"Get Liz out here. We need to talk."[/color]

Dawson ran off to fetch Elizabeth while the rest of the men continued to eye the British ship carefully.

"Captain, Stodd's asking for you."
"I'll be right out" Elizabeth groaned as she forced herself to her feet. She hid her hair as best as she could before she put on Thatch's old hat, shrugged on a large black coat, and staggered off to find Stodd.

"What the hell happened while I was out" Elizabeth asked as she leaned against the rigging for support. She looked at the British ship as it sailed away, and shook her head. "Pillocks. Anyway, how on God's green earth did you get us out of this mess?"

Roger moved over to Elizabeth, pulling her to lean on him, rather than on the railing. He rubbed his head gently, and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. His stomach spun in his chest - he felt like throwing up.

"We need to talk. In private."

He watched the ship and sighed, almost glad to know that Elizabeth wasn't on the deck during that... situation.

"Lead the way, captain Stodd." Elizabeth looked up at Stodd, and smiled. She wondered what he could possibly want to talk about, what could possibly be so important that he wanted to talk to her about in private. She felt another wave of nausea wash over her as she thought of what he would say. She knew he was going to leave, eventually, hell, she was taking him to the ship that would rob her of him. What he would do when they parted ways once again was a mystery to her.