The Tale on the Sixth Sea (A prequel story from "The Raider Reawakens)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 06, 2016

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Submitted: October 06, 2016




The Tale on the Sixth Sea

( A Prequel Story from “The Raider Reawakens”)


By Liam MacDonald

Main story and characters created by Liamer Films (Liam MacDonald & James Poirier)

@Liamer Films 2016





The Tale on the Sixth Sea



Everything about the situation was deadly. Hank Fontes saw the ghostly outline of three large sails in the distance, casting a haunting shadow on the rugged sea. Men of all sizes and shapes were hustling in all different directions, like a herd of buffalo being chased by a pack of wolves. Expect the Buffalo were headed directly toward the wolves. Hank hustled down a tall ladder towards the lower deck. His hands were now beginning to get warm from the savage frost.  The feverish cold, drove the crew of the S.S England frenetic. They were all desperate men now, but they weren't two months ago. Hank knew they only had so long until the crew meets their maker. There were only two choices...turn back and go around the Sixth Sea or face the deadly rouges up front. No matter what the Commodore chose, Hank knew that both end in tragedy.  


“Captain Riggs, we have the England ahead of ourself.  What do you want me men to do...just give the order!” An old scruffy and stinky man stated. The Captain stared at his first mate for a moment, trying to read his face to see how big this endeavour truly was. Riggs then sat up with great force and walked towards the closed door of his quarters. As the Captain passed, the stinky first mate’s eyes followed without any other movement from his body. The Captain stopped just before he got to the door, “Are you coming or do I have to give you permission?” An embarrassed but remarkably confident look grew over the face of the first mate and he ran over towards the doors.

As Captain Riggs and his first mate arrived at the front of the ship, they were greeted by the person the rogues called “The Estimator”. When the Captain got a good look at the prestigious ship, The Estimator spoke, “There is about thirty weak men on that there prisoner ship, easy booty if you follow me.  Plus, we could use extra men.” The Captain said nothing, both the first mate and The Estimator looked at each other.

The first mate hesitated for a minute but then spoke, “Captain if I may, we have a chance to go head on with that there scrap and save major time in doing so. Let me use them Captain, the young fellers are dying to get em and ye know it!”

Riggs kept studying the ship and whispered secret prayers under his breath. “I think you underestimate them. You say they are desperate? I know what desperate men are willing to endure to see the light of day again. We go ‘head on’ as you say, they blow us out of the sea.”

The Estimator grew impatient with Riggs as the Sixth Sea forced both ships closer and closer together as each second passed. “Ye think that them people have what it takes to pull us to Davy Jones himself. I reckon that ye overestimate their chances!”

A heavy breeze splashed ice cold sea water in the faces of the three men the first mate and The Estimator shivered, but the Captain remained motionless. “Charlie, get out my log.”

First mate Charlie whipped out the Captain's log from under his leather pocket and tried to huddle over it to prevent the log from getting soken. “Ready cap'n”

Captain Riggs took a deep breath and looked upon the tiny figure of the S.S England approaching. In the far but near distance, the frantic yelling of men could be heard. On the Black Wharf however, it was as quiet as a battle that was just won. And that's exactly what Captain Riggs intended to do!

All the frail men aboard the S.S England were preparing for a war. The vessel was on its last legs. Everything was ammunition from forks, spoons and rusty nails. While the men prepared the cannons below the deck, above one crucial decision that might jeopardize the entire crew was being made.  

“Are you sure there is no other way, Fontes? I do trust you, but we are getting closer and if we turn our backs now...Well let’s just say we might put ourselves on a fragile piece of table china and serve ourselves to the rogues!”

Hank Fontes knew there was one other way. But the impending doom was going to become a reality all too soon. If they turn around and go back to where they came from, there is a better chance of survival than going head to head with the greasy, corrupt and merciless pirates. There is one thing about the Sixth Sea that put the S.S England in a slight advantage...nature. Commodore Rhodes wore a white looped wig that added twenty five years to his already old life. The Commodore fought and won many battles on different seas, but never on the Sixth.  Hank knew he needed some good news and a decent strategy to keep the vessel and everyone on it afloat; both mentally and physically.

“The currents, look at the way they sway to the left. We shift our course that way it will give us a speed advantage. We use what ammo we have for defence and sail past the Black Wharf. It will take them too long to turn around and catch up...Hank there is no way we can go back. It’s suicide.” The Commodore knew Fontes spoke the truth. It's either die or die trying, and Hank knew just what to do!

Captain’s Log #325 Title “We Meet Again.”

It appears you can find anything if you are not looking for it.  We are on the Sixth and on this sea there is no where to go. Everywhere you look there's blue, absolutely no green. The only other color to be seen is red, I shall leave it at that. We have a challenger prisoner ship vessel approaching us right in front. On that ship is something I want. No, something I need.  It was stolen from the Black Wharf and holds special powers to this ship capabilities. I believe that is something Commodore Rhodes does not know. I’m am going to hit the lower deck and pray that the blast creates an opening for it to revealed. Now, I must prepare my crew. We are going incognito!

Charlie immediately stopped writing as if he were told his mother died. Charlie kept his eyes on the word “incognito” for a few seconds, a combination of sweat and sea water were dripping from his crooked nose onto the torn pages of the Captain's log damaging the words. Charlie lifted his eyes from the page, Charlie and Riggs exchanged a heated glare that had the intensity to warm the entire crew up. Both were on different sides on how to tackle the approaching prisoner ship. The Captain then gazed at The Estimator, “Where do you think the Prisoner Quarters is on that ship?”

The Estimator swallowed his building saliva that it almost made him choke. Riggs was a wild card and the two men needed to persuade, somehow. The two were intimidated by the response the Captain might give. “If I had to guess Captain, I would say directly below the Commodores quarters,” The Estimator continued, “ If ye be thinking what I reckon, can I suggest that maybe goin' incognito might be th' wrong choice? Who be to say that they won't shoot on sight. Then we be screwed,”  Captain Riggs turned his head from Charlie and stared with his beady eyes into The Estimator. “ Just a thought though cap'n.” The Estimator said with ashment.

“We will draw them...I will not risk killing any potential recruits with careless cannon fire. We go incognito and when they get close enough we strike. Charlie, you and your “fellers” will capture the prisoners and bring them here. I will lead a charge and kill all the men aboard that ship. Understood?” The Captain spoke with confidence that the plan would work. And apparently the other two agreed as they nodded without saying a word.

With the clash of the S.S England and the Black Wharf implementing any minute, the Sixth Sea was preparing for a gruesome attack. The men of the England were all but ready. In the corners of the ship, men with rosary beads in their hands, praying to whatever God would listen. On the upper deck, bruit security guards with red flannel, partly covering their tattoos from various shops across the Fifth Sea were lifting all sails in order to swing left to catch the current. Commodore Rhodes looked on at the Wharf and back at the crew, sighing. Rhodes then shouted at the crew as they were fulfilling their duties “Secure all prisoners. We do not know what or who these rogues want with this ship. I want Jenkins and Bryan at the cell…,” A voice from behind the Commodore interrupted the speech.

“Commodore! There are no men on that ship,” Hank Fontes then whispered under his breath in total shock as if he was listing to one of those old ghost stories that his Uncle told him, but knew they were fake and didn't wanted to ruin the fun.  “No men on the ship.”  The whole crew on the upper deck froze in time, the Commodore looked through his worn out scope to confirm if what Fontes was saying was true, even though he believe him.

The Commodore gasped, “Bloody hell! It’s a stray, must have been a raid.”

Fontes didn't believe that it was a mere raid. Anyone with a little knowledge of a battle would know that there would be death everywhere and the ship would be in a destructive state. Deep down inside, Hank Fontes knew it was way too easy.

“What now Commander Rhodes?” One of the crew members said with a very nasal sounding European accent.

“Hold! Draw us closer to the ship,” ordered the Commodore. Hank expression changed, they were mere seconds away from the Black Wharf and curiosity would indeed end them. There goal is to get to safety, not to gloat over some dead pirates.

“With all do respect, we can’t risk it. We have to keep on our path.” Hank exclaimed with great passion. The end was coming soon, at least that was what he thought. The Commodore refused any suggestions, Fontes knew curiosity got the best of him.

“Hank, imagine the response back home,” Rhodes then turned away from Fontes swiftly as if he was not of enough importance and faced the crew below.

“Everyone! Imagine the glory and moral boost we would get from sinking the dreaded Black Wharf. Our names would be on all streets across England, ‘heroes of the Sixth Sea’ that's what they would call us.” The Commodore was on a role, for the first time in a very long time he truly felt passion. Not even the damp air that stuck with them the whole journey would ruin this moment. As the Commodore went on with his “gospel”, Hank Fontes tuned towards the rough rogue ship and cracked a smirk as his plan was coming together with ease.

The Black Wharf creaked right up alongside the England. The silence was eerie, even the sea seemed to stopped producing sound to add to the dramatic tension. At the bottom of the Wharf, the entire crew prepared for onslaught. Captain Riggs ordered eight men to man the cannons and ten men to follow him into battle, while Charlie gets the prisoners. The Captain smelled the air in the bottom deck, which was a mixture of decaying rat and seaweed, and the Captain loved it.

On the England, all the crew members hugged the railing of the ship and gazed upon the haunting ship. It was a surreal moment for everyone on that ship, but they hadn't much time to enjoy the view as that's when the first cannon shot hit the railing. At least ten men catapulted into the air like ragdolls and splashed into the cold sea. The Commodore was stunned from the blast and with his shaky hand pulled out his pistol from the holster attached to his side.

“FONTES! Fontes where are you? Come to me at once dammit!” hollered Rhodes. Frantically, the Commodore rushed around the sharp pieces of hardwood looking for his first mate. A crossed eyed, loose cannon rouge swung himself by rope from the Wharf to the England and landed right in front of Rhodes. The pirate took a swing with his rusty sword at the Commodore; but the Commodore ducked in time and fired his pistol right into the boney stomach of the crazed pirate.

The commodore ordered the canons to be fired at once and a blast louder than the initial one was fired. Forks flung into the chest and head of crew below the Wharf.  Rhodes was delighted at the sound of pain coming from the pirate ship, but there was no time to gloat as he had laid witness to a lone figure descending to the cell quarters.

Hank Fontes was on a mission. Many sounds echoed off the rusted interior walls of the England which vibrated his aching spine. Two guards stepped in front of Hank, refusing him to enter the cell quarters. Hank knew he was outmanned but it didn't matter in order for his plan to work. As quick as a bullet, Hank whipped out a two pairs of firecrackers and tossed them down right beside the giant guards and bolted for his life. The prison guards both looked at each other in confusion. But before they could get back to their post...the firecrackers erupt and demolitioned everything in it’s path, creating the ultimate smoke signal.  

There it is boys. It's time fight me heartys, get me those prisoners. There no good to me dead, you hear!” Captain Riggs shouted with excitement; the fun had just begun. Swords sliced through the ill-prepared soldiers of the England, a lone sniper on top of the lookout tower was picked off by a shot fired by Charlie. Captain Riggs and his squad were picking off the weak crew one by one with red colors flinging into the open sea air. It provided an excellent distraction for Charlie's men to sneak down to the prison cell. Two loyal prison guards maintained their position.  

“Here to have a little fun, are we,” proclaimed one of the skinny pirates. The guards did not hesitated and went into attack mode chopping down the skinny pirate and his friends. This provided a superb distraction, as Charlie snuck up on the occupied guards and pierced both their bodies at the same time with his dual sword. Charlie picked the cell key off one of the guards. As Charlie went over to the cell, the keys dropped out of his hands and rattled on the floor. Charlie looked back at rickety ladder to the upper deck and back at the cell and then with a moment of hesitation ran to the ladder to find his Captain.

The Commodore laid hidden under his desk with a single pistol in his hand. Blood oozed from his shoulder where a piece of fragmented wood impacted, rendering his right arm useless. The major battle was being fought outside and the horrific screams of bloodshed echoed inside the Commodore's cabin were getting lower and lower until they ultimately stopped.  Rhodes took a few moments to catch his breath and slowly peeked his head from out under his desk. It was if a battle never happened, it seemed his cabin was neater than it originally was. Just then a man flung through the cabin doors and landed right in front of Rhodes. His body udderly destroyed, the man gasped for air and mercy before a single bullet carved a hole in his large head. The Commodore looked in terror and the sound of a raspy, yet intelligent voice rang through the room.

“I think I have killed enough British men for one day. And I really don’t feel like killing one more, so please just show yourself Commodore!” Riggs had all the patients and time in the world as he had nowhere to go. Cowardly, Rhodes stood up with one arm over his head. His pistol clunked on the beaten up wooden floor.

“Your other hand. I don’t want to have to shoot,” ordered Captain Riggs.

“I have been shot...I can’t!” uttered Rhodes. Captain Riggs measured his opponent, shot out a laugh and pointed his double barrel pistol at the one armed man.  

“Well there is no point in you having just one hand up now is there?” Riggs went on to shoot Rhodes in the hand that was raised. The rest of the Wharf’s crew laughed as Rhodes tumbled down on the ground, hitting his head on the nightstand. The show was short lived.

“Cap'n...below in th' cell. Thar be somethin' ye need to spy wit' ye eye.” informed Charlie. Riggs looked on curiously and rushed passed Charlie down to the cell without a moment of thought. The rest of the crew followed suit and passed Charlie, exchanging grins as they  stepped over the lifeless bodies. When everyone was gone it was just the First Mate and the nearly dead Commodore in the cabin,  and then Charile to started to chuckle.

The Captain of the Black Wharf was not angry (as he had some fun in otherwise dull day), but disappointed. Some of the pirates left and headed back to the ship as if the fun and games were over. They all graditately left till it was just the Captain and the one prisoner. A tall, very young man stood up from his sitting position and pressed his beard up against the frozen steel bars. The Captain looked on furious.

“You must be pretty stupid, what the hell have you done?” Riggs truly wanted to know.. Something about the whole thing seemed off. Riggs waited for a few seconds, but the boy gave no satisfaction.

“You think your tough kid, huh?. You had one bloody job and you screwed it up!,” Riggs stopped to think for a moment and then continued, “So tell me... why would the Royal British Army travel across the frozen Sixth Sea with some delinquent who can’t do a single think he is told. What gives?” The boy smirked and spit on the hay that coated the cell.

“You don’t sound like a pirate,” The boy finally answered. Riggs let out a roar, clapped in front of the prisoner and grabbed his collar and shoved his face directly into the cell wall.  

“You know I expected to gain a lot of men today. Yet here I am talking to some child who is talking down to me. What happened to all those men you were supposed to bring me. Did you just somehow forget about the damn mission ?” The boy mumbled in pain and then spoke.

“It must have something to do with the lightning-…” Before the boy could finish, Riggs head jolted right into the steel bars casting a shadow on the lone prisoner. The former Captain clasped to the ground and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The assailant strutted over to the cell and unlocked the door. The boy scratched the cut on top of his forehead and looked at the man.

“Are you expecting a thank you, Fontes,” the boy uttered

“Common, there is no use for you in this hell hole anymore. You tried your best, but we have to do something about those powers of yours. Riggs was too new to understand and I’m afraid there was no way out for both of us. But thanks for doing the dirty work, at least I got to dress nice!” Hank Fontes grabbed the boy and the two moved up along the ladder. The entire crew of the Wharf was there waiting for the two.

“The jobs done boy’s...we got em back!”Fontes stated

“Where is the Capt’n?” One of the heavier pirates asked.

“Dead. A hidden, slimey Brit came up from behind when the Captain was unlocking the cage.” Hank lied. At once...all the pirates went in a uproar. But just before the rogues got their greasy unkempt hands on Hank, a heated bolt of lightning sizzled down from the dark sea sky right onto the England, creating a separation between the rest of the crew and Fontes. All the glares now shifted on the young boy, who slide right in between the two sides.

“Are we done. We have work to do.” The boy ordered. The crew to the left of the boy all stood in belimatent.

“And who are you to give us men an order?” Said a heavier set pirate with a giant scar that covered one end of his face to the other. The adolescent wasted no time to give his response.

“I’m your captain. Now gather as much supplies as possible and gather the Commodore. He has some crucial information on cargo warehouses across the Sixth. We shall put him to use,” informed the new Captain. Fontes winked at the boy and went on to collect Commodore Rhodes. The new captain turned back to the men of the Wharf  and an awkward silence casted over the sea.

“Well what the hell are you waiting for,” The Captain demanded. The crew grunted and shuffled around each other slowly heading back to their homeship, in acceptance of their new, younger than normal captain. The boy nodded his head and ventured back home to the Black Wharf.

When the everyone got back to the ship, some pirates went back to their normal routine which consisted of raising and lowering flags while others organized some new loot that was acquired such as rifles and gold.  Fontes strolled behind the kid after dumping Rhodes in one of the claustrophobic cells and followed him up to the quarter deck.

“So Captain, what is your first line of business,” Fontes asked.

“Well...I had sometime to think in that crappy cage and to be frank, I think the word ‘captain’ is a bloody cursed word. I might change my title,” the young man retorted.

“And what might that title be?” Fontes and the boy exchanged glances. Fontes grabbed a dusty hat had been sitting in his room for far too long from his pouch and placed it on top of the boy's head covering his eyes. The two snickered and the young man put his hand on the wheel and peered out into the vastness of the Sixth Sea and then back to Fontes.

“Maybe Raider.”



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