Fuming, furious with herself as much as the story or the boy she stormed out on the deck, her furious eyes sweeping the deck looking for something, anything to vent her fury on. She was not a vengeful officer, she took no pleasure in violence but just then she needed a target, something or she would go mad. But none were forthcoming. Maddening. All her work through her time serving on this ship helped to keep the men in line, her display earlier further imprinted on the men the importance of their maintaining proper behavior even amidst a little impromptu celebration. Blast it. Her own competence was thwarting her and she felt her fury rise in irrational ire as her hands clenched and her nails pressed into her palms with savage intensity. 

But then she was saved, blessedly saved by the voice of the captain. The ship exploded into action around her as the well-disciplined men put down their drink and set to work. She heard her orders and sent a quiet thanks on the breeze for salvation in the form of action. She called out orders, adding yet a little more purpose to the scrambling around her. Iron, she was to ready for iron. That was unexpected but she would not allow the men to shame her by slacking even in this wild change to their night. 

All was going well, the men were hustling, she was finding her groove, her voice and in action her futile anger was dissipating. Then something hit her like a weighted sap to the back of her skull. She let out a screech and dropped to her knees on the deck as a lance of pain spiked through her head. She clapped her hands to her ears to try to blot out the one hundred squalling infants who were scratching their paper-thin nails across a hundred chalk boards all while and equal number of cats yowled their need to the night. It was awful and she wretched to hear it initially. Though it was not pleasant and it continued to scratch at the inside of her head she found that the continued presence of it was not nearly as intense as the initial surprise of it. She opened her eyes, hands still over her ears and stared as she saw all the formerly bustling men stopped in their tracks and all oriented towards the strange light she could just make out on the horizon. All of them, stopped in their tracks and no sound but the horrible keening that still clawed at her. 

Through that unnatural stillness and silence came a new sound. The captain’s voice telling Jax to move them towards the ship. Was that a ship on the horizon? She didn’t care she didn’t want to be moving towards it. Every bone in her body protested that order. But it was the Captain, she couldn’t question the captain, could she?

She moved towards him, hand still on her ears, blocking out that sound. As she neared him she took in his expression, slightly vacant with his mouth hung open like an awestruck boy. She had never seen him so. Not the Captain, not HER captain with his easy smile and clever wit. It was not right, not natural for him to be standing there slack jawed. It was not natural. Her heart thumped double time and she felt the truth of that deep into herself. It was not natural. Her mind scrambled back over her reading, her studies of the classics and a suspicion began to grow inside her. 

She found herself turning towards where the helm lay without thinking about it. She shouldn’t look, she didn’t want to see his face as slack-jawed as the Captain’s. She didn’t want to see him lost to that call but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. 

“Antonia!” she called as she looked to see what state Jax was in. “I need you.” 

Then she heard a splash as one of the men, desperate and maddened by the keening call grew impatient at the pace the ship, which was not yet turned to the song, leapt over the edge to hasten his arrival. 

“Sirens.” Nicki said to no one in particular, her eyes still seeking that maddening man, certain that the sight of him, slack-jawed would break something inside her.