Captain Red Moscow climbed the riggings. It was midnight, exactly, as told by the moon. Bad luck to have a woman onboard. She scoffed.
“Captain!” yelled Lilith Waters from below. “A gale!”
“I’m well aware of the bloody gale. What do you think I’m up here for, the view?” Even in the dark, she could tell that Lilith was blushing. She’ll learn.

Red was asleep in her cabin, when one of the women began pounding on the door. “Captain!” came a strong voice. Mitts. The cook. The door swung open.
“What do you want?” Red’s eyes turned as black as the sky before a thunderstorm.
“We don’t have any grog. What the hell am I supposed to serve with their hard tack?”
“This is a pirate ship! We learn to do without on the Saint Marie!” The door slammed, but there was knocking again.
“Captain. Another ship is in range.” Lilith stood there frightened.
“Jolly good fun. Tell Mitts I have an answer to her problem.”