Aidan stood on the deck, one hand on the rail and the other clutching a grubby glass bottle of watered down rum. The salt-laden breeze tousled his hair, blowing it back from his face and carrying sea spray into his face. The salty taste was the most familiar thing in the world, as was the heaving of the wooden planks beneath his feet. It looked like a storm might be brewing on the distant horizon but for now it was too difficult to know for sure, as the sky darkened with the setting sun. He swallowed another mouthful of rum as he watched the waves below, wondering where the captain was going to direct them next. His duties were done for the day and he had the evening off, providing nothing of note occurred.
He was just contemplating whether or not to find a fellow crew member at leisure and start a game of dice, when the captain began to shout for attention. A Naval ship had been spotted and the pirate ship was giving chase, hungry for plunder. It had been too long since they had felt the heat of battle and the crew lusted for blood and gold and glory; Aidan was no exception. He wanted to feel his heart hammer in his chest as he pursued an enemy and hear the clash of swords and crack of gunshots.
Running across the slippery deck to help with the sails, he recalled that he was unsure if he had loaded his pistol or not. Still, his cutlass was as sharp as ever and anyway, he preferred fighting with a sword. They soon drew closer to the other ship and the captain gave the order to ready the cannons. Aidan's view was obscured by wet tangles of rope so he was unable to see if the Naval ship was mounting any defense, but he was confident that they would soon board, plunder and sink it as they had done so many times before to so many other ships.