The Silence Before The Storm

A merchant was walking along a coastal road, his brahmin plodding contentedly behind him. The salty smell of the sea filled the man's nose, and he breathed deeply, enjoying the freshness of the scent. He had just made a tidy profit selling some canned preservatives to a fellow traveler, and the happy jingling of caps coming from the brahmin's saddlebag meant the merchant couldn't help but keep a smile on his face.

As he walked, a silhouette of a man slowly grew bigger, until it eventually revealed a man dressed mostly in black. His arm was covered in tattoos, tribal swirls and a golden lion of England. He was standing to the side of the road, smoking. He was looking away from the merchant, staring at the rising sun. A scoped rifle was slung over his back, with a knife nad pistol was attached to his belt. The merchant knew the type; a young wanderer who thought he was hard because he had a gun and a few pictures on his skin. They were also suckers for his great deals. He put on his winning smile and approached the man.

"Hello sir! Can I offer you some food, ammunition or other such necessities?"

The man didn't even turn around, but finished his cigarette, and dumped the still smoking filter on the floor, putting it out with his boot. He finally faced the merchant, and was a lot older than he had first thought, probably in his mid-thirties. His face was handsome, but hard. It held little surface emotion. He finally began speaking.

"Aye, I could do with some supplies. I'll take...everything."

The Merchant boggled at the strange wanderer.

"W-w-w-well! That...that is quite the order! I believe my stock equals about 3000 caps"

The man patted his pockets rather un-enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid I have misplaced my purse, I do have this though"

The man went for his pocket, but suddenly he lunged forwards and slammed his fist into the merchants stomach. The merchant doubled over, and was met by the man's knee. The merchant landed on his backside, his nose broken and winded. The attacker knelt down.

"Huh, huh, huh, who...*cough* who are you?"

The man tipped in invisible hat to the merchant

"I'm called Reaper mate."

"Why are y-"

The question was interrupted by Reaper ramming his knife into the Merchants neck. He gargled on his own lifeblood for a few seconds, and went quiet.

After ransacking the Brahmin of anything he wanted Reaper smacked the brahmin's rear with the flat of his hand, sending it lumbering down the road. Reaper sat by the road again and sipped from a random bottle he found, luckily it was some sort of self-brewed liquor. His quiet drinking session was interrupted by a loud roaring coming from the ocean. He went to investigate, and was amazed to see a boat. The boat itself didn't surprise them, he had seen planty of wrecks along the south coast, the fact it was floating did surprise him.

He continued to sit and drink as he watched the supposed owners of the boat set up a small camp. Reaper drained the bottle and threw it on the ground. He unslung his rifle, and made his way carefully down the hill, and was greeted by a multitude of raised weapons.

"State your business or else I'm forced to take cruel actions against you!"

Reaper had traveled all across England, Scotland and Wales, and he had never heard that accent before.

"Well, t'was minding my own business up upon yonder hill, when I glanced on you. I just wanted to know what the fuck you foreign bastards are doing on my land?"

The scent of burnt flesh and thick smoke was like heaven through the filter of Ash's gas mask. The way the meat of the brahmin bubbled and seared was a glorious sight, while the orange flames embracing it were beauty incarnate. Ash was a cook on the pirate ship known as The Red Liberator. His domain was to cook the meat, which he did in a sealed metal chamber he called 'The Furnace'. It had hooks to hang the meat, charred metal walls and a large airtight door. In the ceiling were ventilation grates that allowed smoke to escape the room. There was a bench on one side, were his cooking-flamethrower on his back usually sat. (Think similar to this)

Ash ended the torrent of flame to inspect his handy-work. The meat was still bubbling on some lighter cooked areas, while the front was crispy and slightly burnt. He put the flamethrower on the bench, wiping it down with a dirty cloth before exiting the room. One of the assistants would refuel it and take down the meat once the heat had died down a bit and the smoke had cleared. He asked the head chef if there was anything else that needed to be cooked, before leaving to his quarters. Taking in the rare luxuries of the ship, he enjoyed a cold shower to somewhat clear the smell of smoke and ash from his body, before changing into his usual clothes and leaving his fire suit in a basket to be washed later. He lay down on his bed for a moment, then strapped on his mask and moved to the top deck.

The ship was approaching land and Ash, as well as a few other individuals, were accompanying the Captain as a landing party. He checked the fuel tank on his back, making sure it was tightly secured. The ship soon stopped by the shore, and they all hopped into landing craft to cross the remaining shallow water. His boots sunk into the damp sand, as he took a ragged breath of the salty sea air. It was good to be back on British soil. They began setting up camp, while Ash and three others were on perimeter duty. An individual had been spotted on the far side of the camp, and everyone was rushing towards them. Ash stood towards the front of the group, his flamethrower hissing menacingly towards the interloper.
"It seems we have a guest." Ash said through a butchered throat, inciting a few laughs from the men around him.
"State your business or else I'm forced to take cruel actions against you!" The captain called towards the individual.
"Well, t'was minding my own business up upon yonder hill, when I glanced on you. I just wanted to know what the fuck you foreign bastards are doing on my land?" The man called back. Ash tightened the grip on his weapon, feeling this could not end well. Meanwhile, he heard voices from his side. A young woman had also approached them, arms raised in surrender.

"Bastard?! how dare you call me a Bastard! Why shou-"

Reaper snorted at the young man's blustering anger. He didn't know where the bloke had come from, but he was obviously used to total obedience and respect. It was very difficult to gain Reapers trust, mostly because he robbed and occasionally killed anyone he met. There were a few though, old friends in small villages he could always rely on for a warm bed and a hot meal. This young fop had done nothing but threaten and yell at Reaper. It showed the boy had some sense at least.

He looked over to where he heard someone talking, and saw a woman, her hands raised. She spoke funny as well. Not bad on the eyes though.

"Fucking foreigners" Reaper muttered, out of principle more than anything. He didn't care how they spoke, only how rich they were, and how Reaper could take their wealth for his own. He spent the time the kid, who Reaper assumed was the leader was talking to the girl staring each and every one of the men pointing guns at him in the face. All of them looked away before Reaper did, he had spent too much time being outnumbered with guns pointed at him for it to overly faze him. His expression showed disinterest in the current goings on, possibly bordering on boredom.

One of the small boats was made ready, and the men began ferrying towards it. One of them seemed to be directing Reaper towards it too. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder, and jumped into the boat. He slouched in his seat, his exterior showing complete relaxation when his stomach did handstands. He had never been out to sea before, and he was terrified as to what would happen. He was too old for this shit.

The captain, after a short outburst, turned his attention to the woman approaching the camp. As he walked past Ash towards her, he whispered something.
"You're in charge of the man over yonder aye, if he cause problems all actions are permissed." Ash nodded, moving a bit closer to the man, his flamer ready to spew out a menacingly beautiful orange at a moments notice. Ash took the time to look over the man waiting patiently, if not irritably, for the captain to return.

The man stood at roughly six foot, wearing mainly black clothes with a white undershirt and a bandanna. He was holding a kind of scoped .22 LR rifle, although this did not make Ash feel any safer, as the man could have concealed weapons anywhere on his person. Ash knew his type, bitter men in their late thirties who believed the wasteland was theirs. Ash knew the type well, and had roasted them on many occasions. He was pretty sure at least once he had even served one up to his fellow Raiders, although he couldn't remember whether it was because of lack-of-food or they were just simply jacked up on Jet and wanted to try something strange.

Ash's attention was brought back to reality when the man mumbled to himself.
"Fucking foreigners" Ash shrugged.
"At the end of the day, they're still sane. I've kept worse company." Ash muttered in reply, his accent revealing his British origins to the man. Eventually the majority of his fellow sailors had returned their attention to the man, the captain having apparently smooth-talked the woman into coming aboard for dinner. The captain approached Ash again.

"Ash, I will for this matter be the real nobleman and ask if mister big shot over there want dinner too. Can you escort him towards the mess room? I hope you also calculated extra food for our Guests." Ash nodded, replying.
"At this moment in time we are fine for the meat department, we shouldn't have to restock for another four days at least. As for vegetables, we seem to have everything we need for the moment." Ash grinned under his mask. "Although we gotta get ourselves some more potatoes, the senior officers are getting fond of my 'potato scallops' again."

After the captain took his leave, Ash turned to the British man.
"You've been invited aboard for dinner, as our 'foreigner' captain is feeling generous. And with the meat, you either complement it or you become it." Ash chuckled silently, releasing a gout of flame in the air for emphasis. He escorted the individual to the landing craft, before taking a seat near the back. He liked the spot, it let him watch every one on board, making it easy to deal with any trouble makers.

Alex took quite a while to get used to the rocking motion, about just before they reached the ship. She was happy to get onto solid ground, it felt like that boat'd tip over and some damned mutated fish would gobble them all up. It was obvious that the young captain loved his ship, and had a lot of respect for his crewmembers.

When Willem asked when and where she wanted the tour to start, she looked around a bit. She decided that they would start at the front, and head slowly to the back.

"How about the front to the back?"

She of course had no idea about the terms used for parts of the ship, otherwise she would have used the correct terms for the front and the back. It was quite a large ship, and it would take a deal of time for this tour to end, she'd most likely be spending the night on the Red Liberator.

"How about the front to the back?"

When Willem heared this he turned around in a shook with his eye's wide open, he closed his mouth and trough his theeth he spoke

From Bow to Stern, my lady

He then forced a smile and walked up front towards the Boatswains locker thats near the forepeak tank and the anchor chain storage. the anchor spindel to pull the anchor chain into its storage stood on a little higher area caled the fore castle. the Boatswain locker was entered trough a small hatch just before the fore castle in the middle of the ship. When Willem was there he calmed down a bit and he opened the hatch and locker it thight so it couldn't close again, and break all your bone's in your finger. he then Helped Alex down the ladder into the little small Hold with lots of rope's, lights, buoy's and spare anchor's when they stood there Willem explained what this area was

This is the Boatswains Locker. The work area of the Boatswain, he looks after all the thing on deck that needs maintenance or when he lose an anchor. not real fancy but nescesarry

when they climed back to the upper deck he walked past the artillery dome's and the Anti aircraft guns towards a larger hatch between the 2 front artillery dome's, it was opened by a crane and hold open that same way. it showed a larger hold with several layers of decks with a small cargo elevator working on an elekronic engine to haul up cargo to the upper deck, but with nice weater one of the crane's could also be used. maintenance and not dangerous cargo where on the most upper deck, mid deck was the ammo the dangercargo and liquids because they where above sea level but kept cool by it and on the tanktop on the dubblebotom tank and even the lowest deck to put cargo os was stored the food supplies because it was extremly cool except near the Engine Room but food what needed to be warm kept there, Whith te small elevator they lowered themselvs to the upper deck of the ships cargo hold. when walking on this deck the ladders to enter te artillery dome's could be seen as you needed to enter them from this deck so your men would be safe with entering or leaving the dome. also a leather bag with 2 winches to hoist ammo up was next to every ladder. when reaching the midships and also the building with the bridge, living quarters, kitchen, and engine room, Willem opened one of the several water thight doors and holded it open till Alex was trough they where on the Mid and Lowest deck level, this was the engine room. now only the noise of the generator and the auxsillery engine coukld be used, but at full working load you could not speak a proper word with each other. this was Hans domain, second in command and chief engine room of The Red Liberator and best friend of Willem.

Hans was just cleaning the lubrication system of the engine and with his hand dirty of oil he walked up to the Captain and the lady. When he arrived with them he cleaned his hands with a cotton bulp and spoke in General

My name is Hans, I already heared you took a guest with you well lets give you a little tour around here, this piece of steel is our main engine its a 16 cillinder 4 stroke engine enough to let this baby get speed up to 30 km a hour or 16,5 knots a hour. I wont annoy you with all the different type's of systems but we got Marine Diesel oil and Heavy fuel oil 730 or HFO730 the 730 is for its viscosity so its a verry thick but durrable liquid. we also have some steam boilers to keep this liquid heated, create drinking water and to make warm water for your shower, you can thank me later when we have some dinner.

Hans started to laugh out loud and Willem joined him shortly in this. after this Willem showed some little things in the Engine room Like the oil purrifier and the drinkwater purrifier and sea to fresh water creator. when at the end of the Engine room Tour they walked one ladder up to the living quarters. it was one large hold with several bunkbeds and 2 footlockers near each bunkbed. Willem walked to the most north western corner of the room and when near it he spoke slow but a bit stern, like a captain informing his crew about what would happen next

Alexandra, This will be your sleeping place when not on duty, I will consider that you will work on this vessel but what kind of profession that might be we will see later, its now 07:30 Boardtime you still have 30 minutes before dinner. I will leave you be and see you in the messroom and kitchen one level above this, ladder on the outer most corner at your right. Oh and if there are some complains about my crew when you need to sleep with them and if they can't hold their hand to themselfs, I want to know who's balls I have to break with a hammer, have a nice stay my lady.

he then took off towards the bridge to get himself a bottle of rum and took 2 glasses before going to the messhall. When he arrived there the room was full with all the crew and hans, but because the crew was not full nummbered the room was not full. when walking towards the big long table he placed his bottle of rum with a hard slam on the table and yelled into the room

Aye Lads! lets get some food! don't drink too much, we got work to do tonight!

and with that he walked towards an empty spot between Ash and Hans. He got himself some patato scalops and fresh meat with some wasteland salad, with as cherry on the cake he got some gravy from the meat and watch how dinner would develop. This would become a good night ...

((Skip me, don't have much to post anyway, it's only dinner.))