Beyond the Stars

Second Chance - Pirate Punk

Another challenge by ForbiddenPlanet.
Theme: Pirate punk
Chosen character: Awilda (daughter of a Scandinavian king)
Word count: 1500 max (I went over by 80 words)

*****
Second Chance

Fortune favours the brave.

Whoever said that needs their head examined. The only thing to favour bravery, is death.

Death is what brought me, brought all of us, to the stinking dive where we met with Chance. He promised revenge. An opportunity to put things right in our time. There was nothing I felt needed putting right when he offered me his deal, but I hung around, watching and listening, waiting for some adventure to present itself. I didn't need to wait too long for it to wander through the door.

To say she was furious would be an understatement. She stomped the snow off her boots with more force than necessary and, after ordering a tankard of ale, strode to a table along the back wall, kicking several chairs aside on the way.

Chance let her take several gulps before intruding on her space.

Intrigued with the new arrival's animated responses to whatever Chance had said, I addled closer, eavesdropping.

"That depends on what you want," she said. Her accent didn't fit with the breeches, tunic and cutlass of the fifth century pirate I had her pegged as. She spoke like a lady, with concise and elegant vocabulary. "There is always a price. What, pray tell, is yours?"

"I would have ye help restore me vessel to me. No an easy task given she's stricken wi' no engine an' a dimensional capacitor on the blink. But once she be fixed up, I'll take ye when'er ye wanna go."

"How do you propose to turn back time, Sir? No mage alive has that ability, never mind to restore life to the fallen."

Chance leaned in closer. She wrinkled her nose, turning her head to avoid the stench of his breath. "M'lady, Awilda, I's no mage. Folk in these parts call me a Time Lord. Me vessel is unlike any other and can travel to a time o' ye choosin. All I has to do is take ye back to a time before yer death."

"How do you propose we reach your vessel? Are we not stuck here, in this timeless void?"

"Nay, ye just have to sign me wee pact an' ye can follow me outa here, nice as ye like. Beats spending an eternity wi' ol' Jonesie."

Thoughts of spending an eternity in The Sunk'n Norwegian with nowt but Davy Jones for company, and I signed a pact wi' Chance an' all.

I don't know what I expected when we left the pub, but stepping into a long, narrow corridor with silver walls and bright lamps fixed to the ceiling, no flame in sight, certainly wasn't it.

"Where in Hell are we?" Awilda asked, as much in awe of being surrounded by metal as I was.

We had to jog to catch up with Chance to hear him reply, "On route to me ship. She be docked planet-side in a Federation holdin' bay."

Awilda glanced at me, raising her eyebrow in question. I shrugged, I'd no idea what he was on about either. We followed mutely, fascinated by our surroundings.

Our first port of call gave us no grief, uniformed officers waved us through their check point at Chance's nod. We boarded a small vessel that seated three and imitated Chance as he sat, pulling a strap across his lap. Distracted by the various coloured, flashing lights along the bench in front of Chance, I didn't notice what was outside the porthole 'till Awilda screamed at the top of her lungs.

Perhaps I should say what wasn't outside. There was nothing at first, just a black expanse of nothingness that seemed to go on for eternity, and we were falling into it. Next thing I know, the small vessel is on its side, gathering momentum as it swooped starboard like a gull caught in a storm. Stars emerged from the blackness, appearing as the vessel slowed, bigger and brighter than I ever thought possible.