air, the scent of rain accompanying
it. The deckhands teach me a lot about the way an airship’s system
works, the rules enforced and the repercussions – well, how they
work on a pirate ship, anyways.
Somet imes, during the
day when there is no need to do anything, two pirates brawl on the
deck for the simple pleasure of brawling, and I stand in the
rigging, watching them fight without ever really hurting the
other.
When someone thinks pirates,
they think angry fellows who lust for blood and riches, and who are
never happy with anything.
While the lust for riches is rather accurate, the rest is not so. In all my time
there, these men were never boasting about exploits of blood and
violence, or ever really angry. They laughed and even sang
shanties, teased each other the way an extended family would, and
brought me, a man that suddenly walked in with an arm and legs that
are not his, under their wings with open arms and smiling
faces.
I spend a little over a week learning the ropes for
thei r trade, and by the end
of it I have promised myself I will not be the kind of pirate who’s
crew fears him – instead, I want to be the kind of man father and
Captain Davis are, showing kindness to their crew while still being
in charge. It is the kind of thing anyone could learn from, as the
world below is still so racist and prejudiced, yet aboard
the Calypso there are black, white and Asian men
and women, young adults to older men, of all ethnic backgrounds and
cultures.
They happily let me in, and
even convince me to sit by them in the mess in the mornings and
evenings.
The next two weeks is dedicated to learning a more
technical aspect from the sailing master – the use of the Aerial
Radar and Altimeter, and how to plot a course using them and a map.
That in itself proves to be educational in more than one way – as,
in my father’s journal, he mentions many coordinates, on more than
on e occasion, but I had not
thought of them as coordinates until I am shown what to do with
them.
Afterwards, I spend another week learning the trade of the
Master Gunner, how to utilize
the ship’s defences and how they work. This one is a post I do not
need as much, as the Forces were pretty strict on the idea that
recruits learn all there is to know about the latest weaponry –
such as the Tesla Bolt – but it still helps to know how older
models work.
The next is spent under the Quarter Master’s wing, where he
shows me how his post is pivotal to the airship’s functionality –
as he keeps order when problems arise, and bring them up to the
Captain. Things such as insubordination generally reach the Captain
through him, and he stresses that it is crucial that, when I have my own crew, I have a man
loyal to me at my side that cannot be bribed, and will not betray
me.
The way my father’s Quarter
Master did, in other words.
I do no t tell a soul,
though.
Finally, the last two before docking in Aeon are spent
learning the trade of the Captain himself, where he also
tea ches me to fight using
both sabres and fists – the latter being gladly taught by Owen
himself, the best at hand to hand combat on the ship. Captain Davis
takes care to teach me the swordplay.
I never beat the man. Never once, but on the last day of my
training I drew blood on his arm – which, in his book, says a lot.
He says my father and a handful of others were the only to ever
draw blood, and that if I can hold my own that well against him,
then I truly am my father’s son – as his equal was my
father.
I also got to fly the ship.
It i s at that very
moment that I decide that I regret absolutely nothing about my
decision, the power the airship offers me as it willingly bends to
my will making me alive in a way I have not been in quite some
time.
Later on, I realise
that I have not been that elated since the accident. Flying does
that for me – it pulls back the man I was before I lost my limbs
and my heart.
We a re some hours
away from port when
it. The deckhands teach me a lot about the way an airship’s system
works, the rules enforced and the repercussions – well, how they
work on a pirate ship, anyways.
Somet imes, during the
day when there is no need to do anything, two pirates brawl on the
deck for the simple pleasure of brawling, and I stand in the
rigging, watching them fight without ever really hurting the
other.
When someone thinks pirates,
they think angry fellows who lust for blood and riches, and who are
never happy with anything.
While the lust for riches is rather accurate, the rest is not so. In all my time
there, these men were never boasting about exploits of blood and
violence, or ever really angry. They laughed and even sang
shanties, teased each other the way an extended family would, and
brought me, a man that suddenly walked in with an arm and legs that
are not his, under their wings with open arms and smiling
faces.
I spend a little over a week learning the ropes for
thei r trade, and by the end
of it I have promised myself I will not be the kind of pirate who’s
crew fears him – instead, I want to be the kind of man father and
Captain Davis are, showing kindness to their crew while still being
in charge. It is the kind of thing anyone could learn from, as the
world below is still so racist and prejudiced, yet aboard
the Calypso there are black, white and Asian men
and women, young adults to older men, of all ethnic backgrounds and
cultures.
They happily let me in, and
even convince me to sit by them in the mess in the mornings and
evenings.
The next two weeks is dedicated to learning a more
technical aspect from the sailing master – the use of the Aerial
Radar and Altimeter, and how to plot a course using them and a map.
That in itself proves to be educational in more than one way – as,
in my father’s journal, he mentions many coordinates, on more than
on e occasion, but I had not
thought of them as coordinates until I am shown what to do with
them.
Afterwards, I spend another week learning the trade of the
Master Gunner, how to utilize
the ship’s defences and how they work. This one is a post I do not
need as much, as the Forces were pretty strict on the idea that
recruits learn all there is to know about the latest weaponry –
such as the Tesla Bolt – but it still helps to know how older
models work.
The next is spent under the Quarter Master’s wing, where he
shows me how his post is pivotal to the airship’s functionality –
as he keeps order when problems arise, and bring them up to the
Captain. Things such as insubordination generally reach the Captain
through him, and he stresses that it is crucial that, when I have my own crew, I have a man
loyal to me at my side that cannot be bribed, and will not betray
me.
The way my father’s Quarter
Master did, in other words.
I do no t tell a soul,
though.
Finally, the last two before docking in Aeon are spent
learning the trade of the Captain himself, where he also
tea ches me to fight using
both sabres and fists – the latter being gladly taught by Owen
himself, the best at hand to hand combat on the ship. Captain Davis
takes care to teach me the swordplay.
I never beat the man. Never once, but on the last day of my
training I drew blood on his arm – which, in his book, says a lot.
He says my father and a handful of others were the only to ever
draw blood, and that if I can hold my own that well against him,
then I truly am my father’s son – as his equal was my
father.
I also got to fly the ship.
It i s at that very
moment that I decide that I regret absolutely nothing about my
decision, the power the airship offers me as it willingly bends to
my will making me alive in a way I have not been in quite some
time.
Later on, I realise
that I have not been that elated since the accident. Flying does
that for me – it pulls back the man I was before I lost my limbs
and my heart.
We a re some hours
away from port when
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