Royal Oak Chapter One - Gundam Wing
Oct. 2nd, 2004 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write. The Jolly Rogers sing ‘Royal Oak.’
Pairing: 5xM
Category: Songfic, Angst
Rating: R
Warnings: Some reference to NCS and attempted suicide. If any of this may offend you, PLEASE DON’T READ.
Title: Royal Oak
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: (thoughts) //song lyrics//
//As we were sailing along the South Seas
We hadn't been gone months but two or three
When we saw ten sails, ten sails all told
All men of war full as big as we//
Duo was enjoying the fresh salt breeze that caressed his sun-warmed face and tugged playfully at his long, dark bangs.
(This is the life.) He thought as he finished the last segment of orange.
He chewed with relish and swallowed with some regret, knowing that fresh fruit was a rare and precious commodity. Without thinking, he wiped his hands on the black slacks he wore. The rest of their supply was stored carefully under deck to be rationed out over time. Scurvy was an all too real threat on this long journey. They had been out of port for some three months now. And still no sign of their target.
The crow's nest really did have the best view all around. It was positioned up atop the mainsail to give the lookout on duty the best possible advantage when scouting for trouble. Right at this moment, the view consisted of miles and miles of sea to their front bow and the small island where they had restocked their provisions at their back. Their ship was currently making its slow, steady way out to sea by means of a beautiful crescent-shaped bay.
Dou wiped sweet juice from his chin absently with the back of his hand and continued his conversation with Trowa, the ship's bosun. Or, more precisely, he did all of the talking and Trowa did all the listening. This arrangement didn't bother the talkative gunner. And if it did bother him, he wasn't saying. The tall man across from him was dressed in a snug fitting emerald green turtleneck and dark slacks. His long dark brown bangs fell across his face, obscuring one side all together.
Duo pursed his lips thoughtfully trying to gather up the threads of his story. Oh, yes. The beautiful village woman he had meet up with while on temporary leave from the ship. Duo grinned hugely at that pleasant memory.
While Duo prattled on about his on shore exploits, Trowa was doing his duty, which was keeping a lookout for trouble. Sure enough, you go looking for trouble, you find trouble.
Trowa's sharp gaze locked on to a distant point just behind the curve of the bay, ahead and to the left. He stared for a few moments, his green eyes going large with mounting horror.
Duo caught the look on his companion's face and turned his head in the general direction he was looking in, all the while chatting away. "And I tell you, Trowa, this girl had the biggest pair of ...Oh, shit!"
His eyes fell upon a sight that left him temporarily speechless. A rare occurrence, to be sure. Was he seeing what he really thought he was? Without tearing his gaze away from approaching disaster, Duo reached his hand back towards the bosun.
"Trowa, hand me the glass, quick!"
Trowa was already way ahead of him. He had the looking glass extended and held out for Duo, who grabbed it blindly. Duo held it to his eye and adjusted the focus. The vision became hellishly clear. Duo did a quick count, tallying up each mainsail that dotted the horizon just beyond the island.
"Ten, oh my sweet Jesus!" he mumbled to himself, "It's the whole Spanish Armada, or at least a goodly part of it. Ten ships if there be one. And right in the lead is that accursed ship, the Black Rose."
The gunner closed the spyglass with a loud snap and tossed it to Trowa. In a flash, he was climbing over the rails to grab a large metal ring attached to a length of thick rope designed for the sole purpose of making descents from up high much speedier.
"I've got to go tell the Captain! Trowa, keep an eye on things." Before his friend could even nod, Duo was sliding down the rope towards the deck. He usually found the trip delightful as all hell, but now his heart was hammering wildly, not with joy, but a deep anxiety. Adrenaline raced unpleasantly through his veins.
In his cabin, Captain Heero Yuy was engaged in a serious discussion with his second in command, Chang Wufei. Both men were seated, leaning over a detailed sea map that was spread out on the wooden table. It had been three months and still no sign of that vile marauder, Treize Khushrenada.
(Where in the seven seas could he be?) Heero wondered as he glared at the map spread out on the table.
Both men jumped, startled from their intense concentration, as the door to the captain's chamber burst open to reveal a very distraught Duo Maxwell. Heero opened his mouth to give the young rouge the rough side of his tongue for interrupting an important meeting.
"Jesus, man, you nearly frightened my half to death!" snapped Heero, on his feet in an instant. He held a hand to his racing heart. Had these colonials' no manners?
But something about Duo’s stance and the air of tension about him, made the captain pause momentarily. He took a deep calming breath and forced himself to continue in a more reasonable tone of voice. He knew that his American gunner would not have barged into his quarters unless there was an emergency.
"What is the matter, Maxwell?"
(Do you really want to know?) His mind queried.
No, he didn't want to know, but he had too. Tension had wrapped steel fingers about his heart, and he hadn't even heard the news yet. He would bet a month's salary that he wouldn't like what the gunner was about to say.
Duo shakily released the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "It's the Spanish Armada, sir." he blurted out, "Just off our port bow. Ten ships all told with the Black Rose in the fore, sir."
Wufei's face darkened in a scowl and his onyx eyes narrowed in rage as he recognized the name of that hateful ship.
"Treize Khushrenada!" He spat the despicable name out, the venom in his voice all but palpable. He surged to his feet, knocking over the wooden chair in his haste. His fists clenched at his side, his knuckles white. Fine tremors of rage wracked his slender form.
"You will die, you villainous scum."
Heero put a restraining hand on his second's shoulder, feeling the murderous tension within. He understood how the Chinese man felt. Treize Khushrenada, a wanted criminal, had attacked a small English colony, Wufei's home, some four months before. The small village had been completely burned to the ground. Their ship had learned of the incident a month ago, after docking for some much-needed shore leave and fresh supplies. The few survivors left had passed on horrible tales of rape, pillage, and destruction.
One old woman had seen the wretched Spaniard captain carrying an unconscious Chinese woman towards his ship astride his war stallion. There could be no mistaking the identity of the unfortunate soul. Let's face it; during this day and age, there were not many Chinese inhabiting British territories outside of Hong Kong. That woman had been Wufei's bride of six months, Meilan.
Wufei had just returned home after a brief voyage when he received the shattering news. He had been trying to earn enough money for the two of them to return to their families in China. Because the attack occurred during his absence he blamed himself for her abduction. He believed that he should have been there to protect her and the citizens. However, having been out to sea when the colony was attacked, there was nothing he could have done. Even if he had known.
With an obvious effort, Wufei forced himself to calm down. There was the matter of the ship's immediate safety to be taken care of. His revenge would simply have to wait. He glanced towards his captain, and with the barest nod, indicated that he had managed to gain control of his turbulent emotions. Heero nodded once in response and removed his hand from his friend's shoulder.
"Gather the men together above decks, if you would, Wufei.” Heero ordered in a voice that was low but calm. “Our target has been sighted."
TO BE CONTINUED…
CHAPTER TWO
Note: To anyone who may not know, the word bosun is variant of boatswain, which is a warrant officer or petty officer in charge of a ship's rigging, anchors, cables, and deck crew.
Pairing: 5xM
Category: Songfic, Angst
Rating: R
Warnings: Some reference to NCS and attempted suicide. If any of this may offend you, PLEASE DON’T READ.
Title: Royal Oak
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: (thoughts) //song lyrics//
//As we were sailing along the South Seas
We hadn't been gone months but two or three
When we saw ten sails, ten sails all told
All men of war full as big as we//
Duo was enjoying the fresh salt breeze that caressed his sun-warmed face and tugged playfully at his long, dark bangs.
(This is the life.) He thought as he finished the last segment of orange.
He chewed with relish and swallowed with some regret, knowing that fresh fruit was a rare and precious commodity. Without thinking, he wiped his hands on the black slacks he wore. The rest of their supply was stored carefully under deck to be rationed out over time. Scurvy was an all too real threat on this long journey. They had been out of port for some three months now. And still no sign of their target.
The crow's nest really did have the best view all around. It was positioned up atop the mainsail to give the lookout on duty the best possible advantage when scouting for trouble. Right at this moment, the view consisted of miles and miles of sea to their front bow and the small island where they had restocked their provisions at their back. Their ship was currently making its slow, steady way out to sea by means of a beautiful crescent-shaped bay.
Dou wiped sweet juice from his chin absently with the back of his hand and continued his conversation with Trowa, the ship's bosun. Or, more precisely, he did all of the talking and Trowa did all the listening. This arrangement didn't bother the talkative gunner. And if it did bother him, he wasn't saying. The tall man across from him was dressed in a snug fitting emerald green turtleneck and dark slacks. His long dark brown bangs fell across his face, obscuring one side all together.
Duo pursed his lips thoughtfully trying to gather up the threads of his story. Oh, yes. The beautiful village woman he had meet up with while on temporary leave from the ship. Duo grinned hugely at that pleasant memory.
While Duo prattled on about his on shore exploits, Trowa was doing his duty, which was keeping a lookout for trouble. Sure enough, you go looking for trouble, you find trouble.
Trowa's sharp gaze locked on to a distant point just behind the curve of the bay, ahead and to the left. He stared for a few moments, his green eyes going large with mounting horror.
Duo caught the look on his companion's face and turned his head in the general direction he was looking in, all the while chatting away. "And I tell you, Trowa, this girl had the biggest pair of ...Oh, shit!"
His eyes fell upon a sight that left him temporarily speechless. A rare occurrence, to be sure. Was he seeing what he really thought he was? Without tearing his gaze away from approaching disaster, Duo reached his hand back towards the bosun.
"Trowa, hand me the glass, quick!"
Trowa was already way ahead of him. He had the looking glass extended and held out for Duo, who grabbed it blindly. Duo held it to his eye and adjusted the focus. The vision became hellishly clear. Duo did a quick count, tallying up each mainsail that dotted the horizon just beyond the island.
"Ten, oh my sweet Jesus!" he mumbled to himself, "It's the whole Spanish Armada, or at least a goodly part of it. Ten ships if there be one. And right in the lead is that accursed ship, the Black Rose."
The gunner closed the spyglass with a loud snap and tossed it to Trowa. In a flash, he was climbing over the rails to grab a large metal ring attached to a length of thick rope designed for the sole purpose of making descents from up high much speedier.
"I've got to go tell the Captain! Trowa, keep an eye on things." Before his friend could even nod, Duo was sliding down the rope towards the deck. He usually found the trip delightful as all hell, but now his heart was hammering wildly, not with joy, but a deep anxiety. Adrenaline raced unpleasantly through his veins.
In his cabin, Captain Heero Yuy was engaged in a serious discussion with his second in command, Chang Wufei. Both men were seated, leaning over a detailed sea map that was spread out on the wooden table. It had been three months and still no sign of that vile marauder, Treize Khushrenada.
(Where in the seven seas could he be?) Heero wondered as he glared at the map spread out on the table.
Both men jumped, startled from their intense concentration, as the door to the captain's chamber burst open to reveal a very distraught Duo Maxwell. Heero opened his mouth to give the young rouge the rough side of his tongue for interrupting an important meeting.
"Jesus, man, you nearly frightened my half to death!" snapped Heero, on his feet in an instant. He held a hand to his racing heart. Had these colonials' no manners?
But something about Duo’s stance and the air of tension about him, made the captain pause momentarily. He took a deep calming breath and forced himself to continue in a more reasonable tone of voice. He knew that his American gunner would not have barged into his quarters unless there was an emergency.
"What is the matter, Maxwell?"
(Do you really want to know?) His mind queried.
No, he didn't want to know, but he had too. Tension had wrapped steel fingers about his heart, and he hadn't even heard the news yet. He would bet a month's salary that he wouldn't like what the gunner was about to say.
Duo shakily released the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. "It's the Spanish Armada, sir." he blurted out, "Just off our port bow. Ten ships all told with the Black Rose in the fore, sir."
Wufei's face darkened in a scowl and his onyx eyes narrowed in rage as he recognized the name of that hateful ship.
"Treize Khushrenada!" He spat the despicable name out, the venom in his voice all but palpable. He surged to his feet, knocking over the wooden chair in his haste. His fists clenched at his side, his knuckles white. Fine tremors of rage wracked his slender form.
"You will die, you villainous scum."
Heero put a restraining hand on his second's shoulder, feeling the murderous tension within. He understood how the Chinese man felt. Treize Khushrenada, a wanted criminal, had attacked a small English colony, Wufei's home, some four months before. The small village had been completely burned to the ground. Their ship had learned of the incident a month ago, after docking for some much-needed shore leave and fresh supplies. The few survivors left had passed on horrible tales of rape, pillage, and destruction.
One old woman had seen the wretched Spaniard captain carrying an unconscious Chinese woman towards his ship astride his war stallion. There could be no mistaking the identity of the unfortunate soul. Let's face it; during this day and age, there were not many Chinese inhabiting British territories outside of Hong Kong. That woman had been Wufei's bride of six months, Meilan.
Wufei had just returned home after a brief voyage when he received the shattering news. He had been trying to earn enough money for the two of them to return to their families in China. Because the attack occurred during his absence he blamed himself for her abduction. He believed that he should have been there to protect her and the citizens. However, having been out to sea when the colony was attacked, there was nothing he could have done. Even if he had known.
With an obvious effort, Wufei forced himself to calm down. There was the matter of the ship's immediate safety to be taken care of. His revenge would simply have to wait. He glanced towards his captain, and with the barest nod, indicated that he had managed to gain control of his turbulent emotions. Heero nodded once in response and removed his hand from his friend's shoulder.
"Gather the men together above decks, if you would, Wufei.” Heero ordered in a voice that was low but calm. “Our target has been sighted."
TO BE CONTINUED…
CHAPTER TWO
Note: To anyone who may not know, the word bosun is variant of boatswain, which is a warrant officer or petty officer in charge of a ship's rigging, anchors, cables, and deck crew.