Étienne Baptiste Richard had hung around Baltimore long enough. It was time to get to work. He had all his possessions packed up in a tubular shaped white canvas bag, roughly four foot in length and two feet in diameter. He heaved the thirty-pound sack onto his shoulder and strolled the docks looking for his ship. There were much larger vessels tied up to peers, but somehow, he knew they were not what he was looking for.

Walking the docks caused memories from his time spent in Montreal to come flooding back. He worked the docks for more than a few years before he went to [i]sea[/i]. ‘Sea’ the thought made him laugh. No one sailed the seas any longer. Today, they sailed the heavens, the skies or the airways. Gusts of winds caressed these decks, no longer the lapping of waves.

The ship was smaller than any he had flown aboard. Most of his time was spent aboard cargo ships, but even the few combat vessels he’d worked on were much larger than this one. This was more a patrol boat than an actual Frigate, but that was her designation, so Frigate she would be—[i]The Drake[/i].

Étienne walked up the gang plank toward the deck spying his new Captain, a real fire breather this one was with her wild red hair and flamboyant attire. [i]‘Going to be a fun cruise,’[/i] Étienne thought to himself. He stepped aboard with his sea bag flipping off his shoulder and to the deck at his feet. The six-foot two-inch Frenchman of African descent snapped off a professional salute, “Étienne Richard, reporting for duty, ma’am.” His accent was decidedly French. Once the appropriate salute was returned, he lowered his arm. “I am trained in the use of your deck guns, ma’am—among other things.” He didn’t want to say too much as this was his first meeting with the ship’s captain. He was prepared to store his gear and begin to inspect his new duty station. Étienne was excited about this assignment and prepared for a deployment.