A shadow in the shape of a lanky guanlong wearing an ill-fitting tricorn hat interrupted Cera’s morning warm up on the deck chair.

“Are you going to lay there all morning?”

Cera tilted her horned head in Juan’s direction. “Aye.”

“We have work to do.”

“It’s gettin’ done. Angus is headin’ for that smoke on the horizon. The Wreckless is limping along on one mast.”

Juan began pacing, “But I want this ship cleaned up and spotless before we raid that little bit of smoke on the horizon.”

“We were up all night. Let the crew rest and warm up their blood.”

The pacing stopped. “That sounds like insubordination.”

“Big word. Give crew an hour to rest up, else more accidents happen.”

“Is that a threat?”

Cera turned to gaze at him, “Do you like having two eyes?”

“Yeah, actually I do.”

Cera leaned forward, “Then it’s best the crew be rested so nobody stumbles and pokes an eye out.”

She reclined back in her deck chair and closed her eyes. The shadow receded.

An hour later, she woke up to a ruckus on the mid-deck. Juan was inciting the crew again.

“Scrub harder! We need these decks spotless so nobody slips and falls during the raid!”

There was grumbling.

“See that island over there? Where there’s smoke, there’s villagers. And where there’s villagers, there’s booty!”

“Yay.” came the less than enthused response.

“We’re gonna hit ‘em hard, get a log for a new mast and take their chocolate milk!”

“Erm?!” that perked some interest.

Juan tried to sweeten the deal, “And once we’re back on board with a new mast installed, we’ll have movie night!”

“Yay!”

Cera pried herself up from the deck chair. This was not a good plan. Sure, all the pieces of it sounded good, but something was missing. Something Captain Raptor had a nose for when he picked his targets. But he was gone, and all the crew had was Juan.

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