Sky Pirates You Say? Nah… They be Your Imagination, Mate.

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London Skies, 1873
Poseidon’s Rift

The blood soaking through his shirt, led him to believe this was how he was going to die. That old saying, where the captain must go down with is ship is a total lie from the myths. The pirate came aboard the sky galleon; he stared down at the captain who was bleeding and grinned evilly.
“Looks like I’m a stealing your ship cap’n. But I can’t do that if you’re still alive” the pirate said as he whipped out his blunder bust and fired at the captain’s chest.
As soon as the captain was dead, the pirate and his crew raided the sky galleon for any valuables. But alas nothing could be found aboard, so the pirate and his crew left the galleon dangling in the sky. The captain of the Poseidon’s Rift, died believing that pirates were the vilest people to ever roam the skies. But what if one man can change that? What if pirates could be heroes, than thieves and murders?

***

1885
New Dublin, Ireland
Docking Bay

Damien stood staring up at the large sky galleon hanging from the dock stabilizers; one day he’ll soon own it and be able to fly across the skies. He inherited it after the death of his grandfather, the captain of the mighty galleon. Damien’s grandfather lost The Poseidon’s Rift in the London Skies, and died on board his ship.
“She’s a beaut isn’t she?” a fellow said.
“She sure is, I can’t wait to fly her soon.” Damien smiled.
“Your old man Hughes boy aren’t you?” the fellow asked.
“Yes sir that is me. Why ya asking? Did you know my grandfather before he died?” Damien asked.
The fellow put his arm around Damien and walked him over to a nearby ally way; he said his name is Kale Bridge, and he was the Dock Master here in New Dublin. From what Kale told Damien, is that his grandfather had gold stashed secretly away on his ship, thus why the pirate killed him in cold blood.
“You’re serious? My grandfather had gold on his bloody galleon?!” Damien exclaimed.
“Shhh!!! Quiet or the commoners will hear ya!” Kale cried.
“Sorry, but still he had gold on that galleon” Damien pointed to The Poseidon’s Rift.
“Yeah, now you betta be off lad. I think there be someone coming for ya.” Kale said, as he disappeared.
Damien peered around the corner of the ally way and saw his closest and best friend Alya Finch. Alya was in her early twenties; dresses were her worst enemy, so she preferred pants instead of the normal attire for women. She had long brown curly hair and pretty hazel eyes; on occasion her eye color would change when Ayla wore different color of clothing. Alya was of Scottish heritage, so when she spoke, the words don’t come out quite the way she wants.
“Damien, where are ya? I’ve been waitin’ and lookin’ for you.” Alya called out.
Damien snuck up from behind her, and hugged her tight. Alya jumped and turned around to see her friend attached to her waist with a big smile on his face.
“Hi…” Damien said.
“If I was a different woman I would’ve smacked you, but since you’re my friend I won’t let you succumb to that” Alya smiled.
“Well thank you ma lady.” Damien bows.
Damien took Alya to see the galleon he’ll soon get; he told her that he’d always dreamed of being a sky pirate one day, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. In New Dublin, being a sky pirate was against regulation, and if you got caught with a blunder bust in your hand, the Bobbies would throw you in jail for eternity, or so the stories go. Alya didn’t think that being a sky pirate was wise, but she remembered Damien being at the docks watching ships dock and disembark every day after school since they were kids.
“I can’t wait to fly her, Alya,” Damien said, “I can’t wait…”

.o0o.

1888
America Skies

Three years had passed; New Dublin was in ruin from the Ger-Rus army. The army invaded New Dublin, because they heard the myth of the sky pirates and wanted to use them for allies. The Ger-Rus army was made up of the Germans and Russian soldiers; some were even still part of Nazi decent. Once they invaded New Dublin, they took in the resources, the pub and some of the native woman for their own. It was only a matter of time till New Dublin was gone for good.

***

         “I left Alya there…” Damien breathed.
Damien was sitting in his cabin with a bottle of rum in his hand, drinking his sorrows away and wishing he never left home three years ago. It was only him aboard The Poseidon’s Rift, no crew, no woman to love; it was just him and him alone. Damien did have a crew, but they all left him once Ger-Rus army invaded New Dublin. As he mopped in his cabin, American sky galleons approached The Poseidon’s Rift armed, and ready to take whoever was aboard.
“If the captain is alive, take him aboard the Queen’s Lace for inspection” the general announced.
“Yes General Holden!” the soldiers saluted.
General Franklin Holden. Sole leader of the American Sky Force and father to two children. General Holden was ordered to see why there was a United Kingdom galleon in his sky, and take the captain in for questioning. Men boarded the galleon, and searched it from top to bottom; Damien was fast asleep in his cabin unaware of the noises on his galleon. Throughout the galleon, creaks were emitting off of the wood of The Poseidon’s Rift, as the soldiers of General Holden’s team walked around the cabin hold.
“General, we found the captain sleeping in his personal cabin. It appears he is intoxicated from drinking too much rum. Should we bring him aboard the Queen’s Lace?” a soldier reported through a Farnsworth machine.
“Yes, soldier, immediately!” General Holden responded.
The soldiers grabbed Damien; they pushed and shoved him out of his cabin and onto the main deck of The Poseidon’s Rift. General Frank Holden stood aboard his own galleon, watching his men struggle bringing the intoxicated sky pirate on the Queen’s Lace. Once the soldiers were aboard with Damien in hand, they left the pirate’s sky galleon in the sky, and took him to their Sky Force base: The Dragon.
“Sir, what are we going to do with this pirate captain?” a soldier asked.
“First he needs time to get his mind back, then we’ll inspect and interrogate him.” General Holden stated.
“Alright, General Holden, sir” the soldier said.

~8~

Noises of metal, steam puffing and many footsteps emitted from outside the holding cell; Damien awoke up in a place he had no clue where or how he got there. After his hangover, Damien’s head hurt so badly, that the noises around him made the headache worsen by the hours.
“Where in the name of Bloody Mary am I? My galleon, where is it?” Damien spoke to himself.
There was a guard standing by, and overheard Damien rambling on about his galleon and where in the world he was.
“Sir, you’re on board the America Sky Force base that is run by General Frank Holden” the guard informed.
Damien looked up at the guard, and squinted at him from the amount of pain that is running through his head; he could barely see or hear since his hangover.
“Can I speak to your commanding officer, please?” Damien asked politely as he rubbed his head.
The soldier nodded, and whipped out a Farnsworth machine; Damien wondered what sort of object it was, since he has never seen such technology since he left New Dublin. Farnsworth machines are hand held communicators that was designed by Philo Farnsworth way before Damien was even born; no wonder he didn’t know what it was. Just as the soldier promised, General Holden was standing in the holding cell with Damien discussing as to why he was in American Skies and dressed like some hobo.
“So you’re telling me, son. That you escaped a huge war outbreak in your country by the Germans and Russians? That doesn’t explain your sky galleon or the way you’re dressed either.” General Holden stated.
Damien totally forgot he was dressed as a pirate. He looked down at his clothes and saw that he was wearing his long black leather trench coat, and on his legs were dark brown leather pantaloons with black boots to match. Well this was some explained, he thought.
“I can explain my appearance, mate.” Damien sighed.
“I have all day, son.” General Holden crossed his arms.
Damien ruffled his dark brown hair and let out a small sigh again; he wasn’t sure if telling the general that he was a sky pirate would help the situation he was in any better. But the truth will set you free, Damien thought.
“I am a sky pirate, General,” Damien explained, “I am from New Dublin, Ireland. After these three years had passed the Ger-Rus army took over my home. I ran away like a coward, because I wanted to live and I ended up leaving the one I loved the most behind in the fight.”
The general’s eye widened, he has never faced a real sky pirate before, plus he always thought sky pirates were a myth or child stories. Holden stood up from his stool that he sat on, and told the guards that Damien could go on his merry way whenever he wants. He needed to collect himself after such an explanation.
“General, may I make a call to New Dublin?” Damien asked.
General Holden froze. He didn’t tell the boy what happened… He needs to know, Frank, you can’t just keep information from the boy, he’ll go insane.
“Damien, follow me…” Holden said.
Damien followed the general down a long hallway from the brig and onto the bridge of the Sky Force base that he never saw when he boarded the base. He saw soldiers and airmen walking around the bridge, never in his whole life being in the sky has Damien seen a base in the sky before; it was the most extraordinary thing
“This is bloody brilliant, General, sir.” Damien exclaimed.
“Thank you, but it’s not mine. The blasted government paid for it, so legally it belongs to them and the dumb president.” Holden stated, with a shake of his head.
Damien had no clue what the general was talking about, so he just nodded his head. The two continued to walk, as they reached the offices that kept the commanding officers busy, General Holden escorted Damien to his office, and sat the pirate down.
“Listen, son, there something I didn’t tell you in our little talk back there in the cell. I want to make sure you’re prepared for this, okay?” Holden said, with a strange look on his face.
With a nod of Damien’s head, General Holden explained that New Dublin and everyone in it has been blown up or burnt to a crisp. Nobody could’ve lived through that, not even an automaton could for that matter. Being obstinate, Damien refused to believe a word the good general said; it wasn’t true
“I can’t just sit here, general! You’re expecting me to just nod and believe ya mate?! Well too bad, I don’t!” Damien exclaimed.
“I perfectly understand your anger son, but I got word from my ground patrol this morning. He informed me that he couldn’t see people at all, mainly burnt corpses.” Holden stated.
The general handed him a Farnsworth machine from his desk, and told the pirate that he could try New Dublin, but it was a useless attempt. Damien flipped a few knobs on the small hand held machine, and tried to tune into the base but all he got was static and loud screeching sounds.
“I am so sorry, Damien.” Holden sighed.
“This can’t be…I was a coward for leaving home. I should’ve never left…never.” Damien sobbed.
Damien was right, once he left people moved on, and lives in New Dublin changed; Alya Finch got married to an American and bore a child. Being a hero for those who don’t want one is hard, running from yourself is stupid, and trying to know what you’ve done wrong is impossible. Damien needed to understand, that being a hero comes with sacrifices, even if those sacrifices mean losing those he loves.
“Son, you may be one man, but a lot of men made a difference. You can make a difference; you can save those people and bring back their hope once again.” Holden encouraged.
“I might just do that…I might just do that.” Damien grinned.

I have been in a pirate mood ever since Captain Hook came on Once Upon a Time. Irishmen can be such amazing pirates…it’s like chocolate with rose petals, you can’t get enough of it. It’s a weird thing, I know. Nut us fangirls and some fanboys have weird things about fictional characters am I right? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my little story here; there’s more of it don’t worry. I tend to mess with people’s head…ehehe! That’s the joy of being a writer 😉

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Until later…

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