Dead Reckoning

Captain Jack Bailey stood on the prow of the Brigand, head high in the ocean's spray. The sun shone brightly overhead, the vast blue spread all around, and the waves crashed against the wood of the speeding ship's hull. He surveyed the ocean, the salty sea air blowing in his face. He wore a tan tunic under a brown vest, its sleeves rolled short, and a strap across his chest held a scabbard to his back. He squint his eyes against the wind and scratched his close-shaven face, deep in thought. Or, as deep in thought as one can be while speeding away from a ship of Her Majesty's Royal Navy- at full sail, no less. A cannon shot rang out and Jack spun around.
"Jack, they be gaining on us. Wouldn't now be a good time to start shooting back?" That was his 2nd, Pat Deckard, younger than Jack, barely an adult, hanging on the rigging above Jack's head. He hung out over the water, one armed wrapped in the rope, the other pointing to the HMS Vindication. A rifle was slung over his right shoulder, and a dagger at his belt. The enemy loomed, and he was not only ready to face them, he was eager. Perhaps too eager, but as is to be expected, given his age.
"No time like the present." He walked quickly aft; ordering the men on deck to prepare for combat as he passed. "Mr. Formosa, show 'em our broadside."
"Aye, captain." Stuart Formosa was the ship's navigator, and when situation required it, the ship's doctor. He was older than Jack; he wore a blue jacket and trousers, despite the air's warmth. He had smatterings of grey through his black hair. His goatee, on the other hand, was a stark white. He spun the wheel quickly and sharply, the wind snapped the sails roughly, but the comparatively small ship still spun with astonishing speed.
"Let 'em have it, boys!" Jack shouted, in stark contrast to his previous, quiet tone. Before he even finished his order, the cannons below him belched fire and death. Jack smiled; his men were just as excited to be back in action as he was. The cannonballs impacted all around the Vindication, but as it was coming at them head on, only a few actually impacted. They weren't normal ammo, they were grapeshot; filled with thousands of small metal pellets; equally lethal to the enemy's crew as to their rigging. The distance between the two ships was closing fast; Jack could hear the screaming British. He was sure it was from their wounds, but he liked to think that they were terrified of the return of the mighty Brigand and her fearsome pirates.
"Quick, Formosa. Before they give us their broadside." The Brigand was just over half the size of the Vindication, and was no match for it in straight-on combat. So, of course, Jack didn't plan to give them that fight. Stuart knew the plan, and he quickly angled the ship on a head on course toward the Vindication, even as the enemy ship turned hard to starboard. Jack looked up at the sails as they flapped in the wind. Not good.
The Vindication fired, and Jack ducked as munitions landed in the sea around and in front of them. "They overestimated our speed, but that won't help us much on their next salvo." Stuart reported. Then the Brigand's cannons fired back; Jack's men didn't need to be told to do the obvious. Wood splintered loudly and the screams filled the air. There was a momentary lull as both ships reloaded their guns, but the Vindication soon fired again. This time, they didn't miss.
Shattered wood flew through the air, and Jack could've sworn he heard the cracking of bones, but they pressed on. Before either ship could get off any more shots, the Brigand had pulled alongside its foe. Men swarmed on the deck, their grappling hooks and boarding ladders filling the gap between the two wooden beasts. Jim Deckard, Pat's brother, led the charge. They were the same age, and had the same father, but they were born of different mothers. They were largely similar, except for the color of their skin; Pat's mother, like their father, had been Irish, while Jim's was African.
Jack drew his sword off his back and the cries and sounds of battle rang out. Jack had barely made it to the other side of the gap when the Brigand's cannons fired again, this time solid lead. They tore through the lower decks, fatally wounding many of Her Majesty's men. An inhuman roar came from Jack's left, and he spun to face his adversary. A beast of a man, almost 7 feet, a living mass of muscle, was rushing towards him. His uniform seemed far too small, and it seemed ready to rip. Jack brought his blade to bear just in time; the force of the man's blow sent him reeling backwards, none-the-less.
He backpedaled across a plank between the two ships. It was narrow for him, and far too narrow for his foe. Jack parried and stabbed, nicking the large man's arm. Unaffected, the man wound up and smashed Jack's blade out of his hand. He smiled widely, revealing a mouth mostly devoid of teeth, and let out a bark of laughter. Jack smiled lopsidedly and shook his head. He then drew his pistol from his belt and shot the man in the face.
His corpse landed in the water below with a loud, bloody splash. Jack hopped back onto the Vindication and picked up a fallen man's sword. He surveyed the scene, and saw that the battle was going exceptionally well. "Men! Hold combat!" His orders echoed in the ensuing silence. His men had frozen, as had the British. Neither Jack nor his crew were in the game to kill; it was all about the riches and glory. "Where's your Captain?" he said, loudly, but not shouting. He seemed much less an enemy to them that way.
Before long, their surrender was accepted, and the loot was transferred back to the Brigand. They took their weapons and cannon shot, and prepared to cast off. "You're nothing but a bunch of filthy pirates." The captain spat at Jack as he crossed back to the Brigand.
"Nah, mate." He motioned to Stuart. From inside his jacket, he pulled a scroll, and unfurled it. It was a letter of Marquee, signed by the King of Spain, himself. "We're privateers." The captain scowled. Britain and Spain were at war, and the one thing the English hated more than pirates were the Spanish.
The Brigand's sails unfurled and the ships soon parted, Jack's hearty laughter crossing the waves.