Brass Skies Vol. 1: The Battle of Chesapeake

Birth of a Pirate (part 1)

Catherine shivered quietly in the chilly Northwestern air as the ship sank slowly into the channel leading to her berth. Despite the chill, she smiled to herself as she looked up at the clear skies and thanked God for the millionth time that she had a father who was both understanding and forward-thinking enough to allow his only daughter the glorious freedom of the skies. A wealthy merchant, Catherine's father had owned not only the only general store in the recently chartered town in the colony of Washington, but also his own merchant ship. Not a seafaring vessel, though in a pinch it could—and in a few times that Catherine shuddered to remember had to—voyage through the seven seas, but a true airship that could sail through the skies.

For as long as she could remember, Catherine had been at her father's side as he captained the ship on its bi-monthly trading routes; watching and absorbing everything with a wide eyed fascination. By the time she was fifteen, her father had realized that Catherine was more at home in the skies than on land and that she had a head for figures and trade that matched his own. Rather than confine her to the house and store as most fathers would, he instead taught her everything he knew so that by the time her mother died when she was eighteen, her father felt no qualms about turning the Country Rose over to her capable hands and retiring to the store.

Once the ship slid into the berth and the gangway lowered into place, Catherine turned to her crew. "Let's get this unloaded and transferred as quickly as possible. I know many of you are looking forward to getting home to your families or lady friends."

"Aye, and you want to get back to your father and to James," her boatswain, a grandfatherly man only known as Slinger, gave her a saucy wink. "Only question is which the one you most be looking forward to seeing."

"Hush you," Catherine swatted him, while trying to hide her blush. While she was careful not to hit him too hard, she didn't exactly go easy either. Slinger had been an old hand even when her father had been young. No one knew how old he really was, but Catherine guessed he had to be at least eighty from the lines on his face and how weathered his arms and legs were.

Still, Catherine knew better than to think of Slinger as frail. Weathered though he might be, Catherine knew from experience that everything left on Old Slinger's arms and legs was pure muscle and he could easily out lift or out haul men that Catherine estimated were a quarter of his age. More than a few crew, Catherine included, owed their lives to Slinger's agility and strength when a safety line snapped, or a piece of rigging broke free.

Indeed, even before the sting left Catherine's hand, Old Slinger was letting out a roar of laughter that was so infectious that Catherine couldn't help but smile. "Okay, maybe I am looking forward to seeing James a little," she admitted. "But he has still not stolen my heart away from Papa."

"Give it time, give it time," Old slinger nodded. "You wait and see, in a couple years, James will have you tamed, wedded, and bedded, hanging on to his every word and move."

"I should hope not," Catherine sniffed, nose in the air, and gave her red locks an arrogant flip. "I'll have you know, I'll have him trained to be the one hanging on to my every word and move."

Old Slinger just laughed and nodded down the gangway to where a young man stood waiting patiently, looking handsome in his crisp red uniform. "You might at that, Lass. You might at that."

When Catherine stepped down the gangway to the dock, the young man stepped forward and grabbed Catherine's hand to place a kiss upon it. "Welcome home, Catherine."

Flustered, Catherine blushed and gently extracted her hand, smoothing out her blouse and breaches. "Thank you James, though I am hardly the shining example of the fair maiden to be wasting your charms on."