The Crimson Cutlass cut through the open sea, its red sails snapping in the wind. The NPC crew, who Tom’s display had thoroughly cowed, were back at their posts, swabbing decks and adjusting rigging with the kind of nervous energy that came from being vicerally reminded who was really in charge. 

Vail stood at the helm, one hand on her hip and the other on the wheel, a huge grin plastered on her face. She was in her element here, a pirate queen with the whole horizon to claim, and nothing to lose. 

Tom stood a few steps behind her, scanning the horizon with a more cautious eye. 

“You’re enjoying this,” she teased, casting a glance back at him. 

“Enjoying is a strong word,” he replied, but the corners of his mouth were curled unmistakably upwards. 

“Mhmm. I saw you fighting down there, Grey Tom, like you were born with a blade in your hand.” She tilted her head to the side, appraising him. “Tell me that didn’t feel good.”

Tom exhaled, leaning against the railing. “It felt… necessary.”

Vail chuckled, then leaned in close enough for her voice to brush his ear. “Necessary can be fun, you know.”

Before he could respond, the voice from the crow’s nest rang out again. “Ship off the port side! Closing fast!”

Both of them turned at once. 

A silhouette emerged from the morning mist. A sleek black schooner with tattered sails and rows of dark cannon barrels. Its flag was unmistakable, a skull with a dagger in its teeth. 

Vail’s grin widened. “Well, well,” she said, “Looks like the Widow’s Grin has come to play.”

“Widow’s Grin?” Tom echoed.

Vail nodded towards the approaching vessel. “Belongs to Captain Francis Blacktooth. He’s a nasty piece of work. He’s got a bit of a vendetta against yours truly – you know the whole ‘betrayed me over treasure’ thing. Typical pirate melodrama.”

As if on cue, a booming voice echoed over the waves. 

“REDFAAANG!!”

Vail stepped to the railing, cupping her hands to her mouth. “BLACKTOOOOTH!” she yelled back, equally theatrically. 

A man appeared on the opposing deck, tall and gaunt, with a mess of wild black hair and a grin that was missing half its teeth. He pointed a wickedly curved cutlass at her.

“You’ve got something that belongs to me!” He bellowed, “Hand over the treasure map, or I’ll take it off your corpse!”

Vail rested her chin on her hand. “Wow, subtle. He’s really upped the drama since last time.”

Tom arched an eyebrow. “Last time?”

Before she could answer, the cannons on the Widow’s Grin fired. 

BOOM!

The deck of the Crimson Cutlass rocked violently, and splinters filled the air as cannonballs slammed into the rails. The NPC crew scrambled in chaos, shouting orders. 

Vail laughed – actually laughed – as she drew her cutlass. “Prepare to be boarded!” she yelled, more thrilled than alarmed. Grappling hooks flew through the air, latching onto their ship. Pirates swung across the gap on ropes with blades drawn, howling.

Tom’s stance changed. He handed his tricorn hat to the nearest NPC without a word and drew his blade. His expression was calm, but his dark Klingon eyes were already sparking with restrained fire. 

“Don’t kill them too quickly, dear,” Vail called to him, “I want to have some fun!”

The battle hit. Two pirates lunged at Tom first. He sidestepped one, slashed the other’s belt so his pants fell mid-charge,  then grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him into the mast. Another came from behind, Tom spun, blade clashing against blade, twisting until the man’s sword clattered into the sea. 

A fourth one rushed him, shouting something about ‘soft officers’, but Tom’s large hand reached out and closed around his wrist, yanking the man’s face forward into a brutal knee strike. Then, he roared. 

It was a raw, primal Klingon roar, and the holodeck was not prepared for it. It sent a ripple of hesitation through the opposing crew. He snarled, driving forward with a sudden ferocity, barrelling through at least half a dozen men.

Vail was busy dueling Blacktooth himself, their blades sparking with each clash. She chanced a glance at Tom mid-fight, and her smile faltered just a little. Because Tom wasn’t just fighting anymore, it was like he had come alive. The last time she had seen him like this was that day on Freecloud, when she had been wounded raiding that gang hideout. 

His movements sharpened, each strike clean, efficient, almost too fast for the holo-NPCs to keep up. He was laughing now, a low, dangerous laugh that made Vail shudder – not from fear, but something else. 

Her opponent pressed into her harder, forcing her back towards the helm. “Getting distracted, Redfang?” Blacktooth sneered. 

She bared her teeth. “Not even a little.”

With a twist and a kick, she disarmed him, sending his sword spinning through the air and catching it herself. She pressed the tips of both blades into his chest. 

“Tell the Caribbean,” she said, “Captain Redfang still rules these seas.”

Blacktooth snarled, then stumbled backwards towards his own ship, his crew scrambling to follow behind him. The Widow’s Grin turned, disappearing into the mist as quickly as it had appeared. The deck fell silent, except for the creaking of ropes and the heavy breathing of the crew. 

Tom sheathed his blade, rolling his shoulders as the adrenaline ebbed away. His dark hair clung damply to his forehead, and there was a glint in his eyes, somewhere between satisfaction and hunger. 

Vail stepped towards him, still holding both swords. “Okay, if I didn’t know better, I’d say now you’re enjoying yourself.”

He tilted his head, a smile creeping across his lips. “Maybe a little.”

She leaned in close enough to smell the salt and the head still radiating from him. “You are insufferable when you’re smug.”

He barked out a laugh. “Smug, or capable?”

She laughed, pressing a quick kiss against his jaw before stepping back. “Don’t get used to it, Grey Tom. We’ve still got a treasure to find!”

Above them, the lookout called, “Land ahead! The Isle of Shadows!”

Vail turned towards the dark shape looming on the horizon. Her grin returned. “Perfect timing.”