Wreckage was everywhere as usual, which was lucky, it was possibly the only shelter for miles. Their ship was part of the wreckage now as they hid it from sight, hopefully whoever tried to down them earlier had scampered off elsewhere, hiding in this heap was no fun at all. Captain Roland "The Eagle" Wilson sat in what seemed to be this vessels equivalent of a bridge, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of that vessel since dawn break. However just when he thought he'd go grab food he heard engines in the distance. Pulling out his spyglass he peered out over the dunes, he spotted two things, one was a mobula, which for some reason was landed in the sand. The other was a pyramidion edging closer to it, he hadn't heard gunshots so he assumed the two vessels were traders, having spotted no other vessels for the past few hours and with none of these resembling that, it was probably safe to leave their hiding place.
"Excuse me Captain," behind him the head engineer popped up through a rusted hatch, "repairs are completed and we're ready to lift off on your orders."
"Very good Jensen, return to the ship and be ready to leave once we finish searching the wreckage, there must be something here."
"Aye Captain!"
The young man saluted him and returned through the hatch. He pulled out his spyglass again and took a look back out over the dunes, the two vessels were still there. Maybe we should pay them a visit he thought to himself as he collapsed the spy glass. He climbed through the hatch and navigated through the rusted interior, their ship was nestled in an open area in the ships hull. On his return he found the other 5 members of the crew were loading a few crates onto their ship, a proud Galleon modification, it was neither as big nor as heavily armed, however it had fantastic cargo space and even though it only carried two medium guns on the cargo deck, they had a wide range of fire, though they were not as protected from enemy fire, but they made do. The top deck was occupied with 4 light guns and a front facing medium howitzer that most people found bizarre. It was a smaller cousin to the famed "Village Killers" that were employed by most armed forces as a defensive emplacement. The rear of the vessel held a tower like the Galleon did, however instead of an engine it held the crew quarters.
"Ah, Roland, I was wondering when you'd get back."
Behind him his helmsman and good friend entered their hiding place, like all of them he was young, though not really built for labor he was probably the smartest one on board and the scariest of them all. Considering the fact he pilots a monstrosity like their ship, best not anger the man likely to hold you through a storm, he might just make it so the rain ever so slightly enters through your porthole.
"Alan, what do we have here?" The crates were being loaded into their cargo bay as they spoke, they looked heavy though the fact they weren't using any equipment mean't they must not have been that loaded.
"A lot of stuff really," He motioned to one of the idle crates waiting to be loaded. He popped the lid off, they both took a look inside, it was filled with other boxes, many of them faced with numbers and counts, ammunition, and by the looks of it a lot of it. "Now the one that Jensen just loaded was filled with articles of fabric, some very nice ones as well." He pointed to were he was standing, Jensen noticed them and waved.
"So, a profit than?" He took out a notebook and jotted down some notes for later.
"At least it'll cover repairs, we might get a bit extra, I've been itching to replace that flamethrower we have, thing terrifies me."
Roland looked at him, "Terrified? You? Heh, I've seen you fight pirates off with the wheel, and a flamer? Terrifying? Oh that's a good one!"
He had a good laugh, Alan simply rolled his eyes at him. Before they knew it everything was loaded up and secured, with the afternoon sun overhead it was probably time for them to ditch this place. They'd been hiding for far to long.
"So, where to next?" He and Alan were standing at the helm as they navigated out of the wreckage.
"Well, home obviously, but I saw a couple of ships land nearby, we should probably introduce ourselves."
"Wait and you didn't tell any of us what you saw?"
"They didn't appear to be the vessel that we encountered, skies above, I don't even know what that thing even was." He drank from a canteen and passed it to Alan.
Alan shrugged, "Best not think about, something of that size couldn't have gone unnoticed for long." He took it gratefully and had swig as they cleared the wreckage. Roland took out his spyglass and peered out, the vessels, surely enough, were still there.
"Alan, deviate course, I've spotted them."
He sighed, "Roland if this gets us killed you owe me a drink."
"And if we don't?"
"You still owe me a drink."
He thought it over, "Fair enough."
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Sorry for the deviation in format, this what I'm comfortable using.
