On Patrol: Swabbing the Deck

Firus was a force of nature, as strong and implacaple as a hurricane gale. He battled his way to his fallen men with a cutlass longer than my arm. The silver blade flashed as it sliced through the air in wide arcs, severing the monsters grotesque arms and legs.

The two of us rallied the rest of the deck crew. The mechanical constructs might have had a chance had they fought together, but they didn’t. Each one fought as if it was alone and we were able to overwhelm with numbers.

It was hardly a bloodless victory though. At least two of our men were sliced open by flashing claws and I saw another lose a chunk of his shoulder to a clockwork mouth that savagely ripped shreds of flesh away. I had little in the way of first aid training and could do nothing for them. Gritting my teeth, I pressed on.

Overhead, the pirate ship descended further. Something was travelling with great speed down the lengths of the mag-anchor’s chains.

Time was running out. I needed to get the cannons before we were overhwhelmed.

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