Nicki stood at the bow of the boat, the bustle around her fading away as her green eyes sought out the equally green coast line just up a bit from the port city. After a moment they swept down to where water met land until her gaze then picked out the color and movement of the port city. She watched, a world away as the ship that had become her home moved closer and closer to what passed as civilization. She thought ahead to the errands she must run, the visits she must make, none of them for pleasure, all of them for business. She needed medicines for the ship, she needed to speak to her banker, to make certain the ventures she’d invested in paid off and a whole host of other things of a similar nature. 

One investment had certainly paid off, she thought as her cheeks plumped up in a distant smile making the “W” branded there pull and distort as her fingers affectionately patted the railing of the Skate. She backed a great many ships under a great many different names and always, always she backed the Dusk Skate, well her man did on her behalf at least. It was just such an investment that made her aware of the ship’s success in the first place and what had finally driven her make her place among the crew. Her old berth had not been a peaceful one and she’d grown weary of the fruitless struggle to keep her place, to fend off hands that would simply not learn. So she’d sought out the Skate and spoken with the Captain, brazenly laying out a deal, explaining her credentials. He’d been reputed to be a man who took risks, he’d taken one in her. She made sure through service, skill and silent investment that he never regretted that risk. It had all worked out, for now. 

Little did anyone one know that she was one of their more frequent backers. That didn’t matter, not for her purposes. She took a portion of any prize she earned as First Mate and re-invested it, squirreling away a portion of her profits from investment and re-investing the rest. She had been without and she planned never, ever to be without again. Her quarters on the ship were cramped, crude and yet she was content. She didn’t need wealth and riches for comfort, she had learned to live without and was very comfortable on the ship, happy even. She just needed to know it was there, a financial safety net. She needed to know she had a choice. She needed to know that she was in control of her own destiny. Control, it all came back to that. 

The warm breeze danced across the water, toying with a lock of honey blond hair and making it tickle her scarred cheek. The shadow from the brim of her hat shaded her face and kept her pale skin largely free from the freckles that pricked her vanity. Which was absurd, freckles hardly marred her more than a brand had, but even so it bothered her. She did not question it. It was what it was. Some things she was capable of accepting. 

She looked away from the view as she heard the Captain call her name with orders. She could not see him over the press of bodies going about their work so she called to him.

“Aye Captain,” her accent making the words roll slow like honey across the deck towards the man where he stood unseen. 

She strode forward to where she could call to the men who manned the cannons, her boots, thigh-high and sturdily made clacked on the deck, her emerald brocade coat flapping around her thighs as the breeze that had played with her hair, tickled at her clothing, as if begging like so many had, for her to remove it. She paid the breeze as much mind as she’d paid the beggars. She was in control. She barked her orders to the men, her voice had the same smooth accent but now it cracked like the sound of the whip she wielded with great precision when needed and men who had come to learn not to mess with the first mate, no matter her softness and curves jumped to obey. 

“You heard the Captain, load her up and tell them Bonjour!” Her orders were carried out with the speed she had grown to expect and the attentiveness she demanded. In just a short time the crack of the Skate’s cannon ripped through the air and she felt her grin broaden, satisfied with the noise, the power, the rush of that cannon. 

They would be in port soon, she had things to attend to, but just then, she was the first mate and first mate alone. Not investor, not whore, not a silly little girl who knew nothing, not a disappointment. She was Nicki. She was in control of her fate.