Chapter 3 Aftershocked
CHAPTER 3: AFTERSHOCKED
Forced out of
recollection by a persistent knock, Morgan dispatched lingering thoughts of
innocence lost and leapt up from the dusty floor. After hurriedly unlocking the
door, she moved towards the safety of her desk. Still wiping her eyes, she
threw out a surprisingly calm request, “Come in.” It was the cabin boy that
entered; his defiant stance matching the forceful closing of a door. As if it
was an instinctual act, Sha stood to attention, then quickly hid the action in
an awkward manner. Morgan hid her amusement.
“You called for me, Captain,” He rumbled
disrespectfully.
Morgan smiled, offering polite words, “Hello
Sha. Would you like to start, or shall I?”
Her words had the desired effect; he was understandably
confused by her sudden change in tack. “Wasn’t
me, wait maybe it was. Wait, what were we actually talking about?” Sha babbled.
She continued in earnest, “Firstly, I would
like to apologise for making you a cabin boy. I’m sure you respect; it is hard
to trust in my business. I feel, however, considering you have saved my life, I
can overlook the normal rules and explain a few things.” Sha winced, “He has never taken a life?” The surprised thought making
her once again reassess everything that she knew about him. Morgan used Sha’s
shock induced silence to continue, “Here is how this is going to work. I am
going to trust you with information that is known to a select few, and I would
appreciate if you could do the same. I’m not asking you to tell me everything
right now, just enough.”
Sha met Morgan’s gaze, apprising her as if
she were a strange new creature, piercing blues matched with a disarming smile.
A smile that he probably thought would leave most women weak at the knees, his
blond hair, good looks, and assured nature would work on most. Morgan wasn’t
most. “Fair enough, Captain. I will tell you what I can,” Sha affirmed.
Still sensing suspicion, Morgan walked out from
behind the safety of her desk, snatching up her favourite practise cutlass, she
threw it blade up. Sha caught the hilt as if it were something that he was born
to do. Smiling, Morgan unsheathed, “Let’s have a bit of fun, shall we,” she
announced, before starting her attack.
Sha was taken off guard by the first few
strikes, apparently unaccustomed to her version of fun, especially with a woman.
Morgan fell into familiarity, gauging her opponent’s skill and style. Before
long she had a clearer picture of the man before her. Sha had been trained by
the best that the miliary had to offer. Changing her style mid spar, she evaluated
her opponent’s reactions and defences. Finally, when she felt she had his
measure, she switched her stance, moving to attack. “You have military training,”
Morgan’s words had an instant effect. Sha started backing up, barely defending
her advances. Attacking until his back was to the wall, she flicked her wrist,
whacking his hand hard enough to make him drop his sword. The look of shock upon
Sha’s face delivered an unexpected sense of accomplishment.
After sheathing, Morgan held her palms up
to show that she meant no harm, calm words accompanying the act, “I have learnt
something about you, now it’s your turn to learn something about me.” Desperation
flashed across his face, “Sha, you can trust me, I’m not really a pirate.” Opening
her shoulders to display further sincerity, she continued, “Most of what you
have seen is an act, my name is actually Morgan Jones, not Bloody Mary, and I
never choose to be a pirate nor did most of my crew.” Morgan rarely uttered
such words. She held her breath, somewhat surprised by her need to gauge Sha’s reaction.
She didn’t need to hold long, Sha felt like
a blind man towards the safety of the nearest chair, then fell awkwardly into
its embrace.
__________________________
Sha was confused, his
mind overwhelmed, “Who the heck is this woman? What just happened?” The
woman in question had employed wit and steel, leaving him stripped of all but honesty.
One minute he had her pinned as an ill-mannered and rather ruthless pirate, the
next, what? The weight of a glass being gently placed into his hands pulled his
attention towards the warmth of a disarmingly sweet face, “Try this, I assure
you it’s good for these situations,” Morgan’s act seemed genuine. He sipped, noting
the quality, surely it came from home, the taste making him long for such.
“You were nasty when you yelled at me!” He
grumbled, mostly under his breath. Morgan raised an eyebrow in response. Set at
ease by what he felt was her true nature, he released bitter laced words, “It’s
been a bad day, I have never killed anyone before, yes despite my military
training,” he continued amidst her silence, “I was trained as a King’s Guard, I
am of noble birth, I left Bastien when a disagreement with a high up official
made it impossible for me to stay.” He stopped to take a breath, guilt, arriving
at his next utterance, “I’m sorry, that’s all I am at liberty to tell you right
now.”
Sha glanced upward meeting Morgan’s gaze,
waiting for the inevitably negative response. He found no disdain, or disgust
for the spoilt rich boy before her and if he thought of her as beautiful
before, now he was finding it hard to take his eyes from her, especially those
lips. Sha’s attention was stolen once again by Morgan’s comforting words, “Your
first time killing someone was to protect me. I’m sorry about that.” Her tone
changed, the next declaration forceful, “But, you need to know that there will
be many more deaths before I get to the bottom of this, so if this isn’t your
fight, now is the time to bow out.”
There it was again, harshness, this time Sha
wasn’t offended, “If you are going after black cloaks then I am in the right
place,” he affirmed.
“Fair enough but you can’t really be a cabin boy
although I must admit, it was fun.” A look of thoughtfulness met Morgan’s
features, “I will assign you to Marlo as his apprentice; he is an engineer and
shipwright. I’ve noticed you looking at some of his inventions. I’m sure he
will very much enjoy explaining them to you. What do you think?”
A strange mix of emotions ebbed and flowed,
Sha met Morgan, gaze for gaze, moments passed before he pulled his hand up a mock
salute, “Aye Captain,” he affirmed. Morgan laughed in response, then cocked her
head to the side as if listening to a sound. She walked towards the door; her
mirth displayed in the giddy way that she moved. “Why don’t you all come on in?”
She announced to the air alone. For a split-second Sha thought she had gone
crazy, then she thrust the door open, and a pile of tangled bodies fell into
the room, then onto the floor. The crew members that had been listening at the
door proceeded to untangle themselves, then one at a time walked over to greet
him. Their receptions varied, Nia gave him a warm smile and a hug, Meena told
him if he endangered anyone, she would leave him with his guts on a pole while
vultures were circling. All in all, Morgan had a mixed bag of undeniably loyal
friends. The room’s occupants seemed to fall into a natural pattern conversing
openly with one another, displaying an array of colourful personalities. Sha
had never felt so accepted, yet something still divided them, leaving him to
wonder what they had all been through to create such undeniable closeness.
“They will be much happier now, they don’t
have to pretend around you anymore,” Morgan’s wistful words pulled him from
reverie, “Welcome to our random band of misfits and outcasts. To name a few,
Nia is our counsellor; Meena our protector; Marlo is the brains and I, well, I
guess I try to keep us all alive.” Sha returned Morgan’s easy smile, the sudden
race of his heart and sweatiness of his palms irritating in a maddening way. He
opened his mouth to reply but she had already moved on, addressing the room in
a no-nonsense manner, “Okay crew, gather around, we have much to talk about.”
The crew, nay the group of friends helped
themselves to Morgan’s alcohol supplies and seemed to fall into a comfortable dialogue,
respectfully and openly discussing their views and ideas. It was all a little
surreal, there really was nothing for Sha to do but relax and of course aim the
odd side glance in Morgan’s direction.
__________________________
Morgan sat rubbing
her temples, the discussion leaving her dissatisfied, “Okay to summarise, we
have no other serious injuries or deaths; we don’t know anything more about the
black cloaks and we have no idea why they attacked the Bosom.” The worried
faces before her an advertisement for her harsh tone, she resumed
apologetically, “I’m sorry, it’s okay guys, we clearly need more information;
we will all need to work our sources at Pete’s funeral tomorrow, then we can
meet back here and decide on an action plan, agreed?”
Everyone murmured their agreement before
departing. Meena stayed behind, gazing out the window, deep in thought. It was
then that Morgan noticed a drink in her friend’s hand. Meena hardly ever drank,
she refused to engage in anything that could dull the senses. “Are you
alright?” She asked concerned.
Meena glanced up as if awakening from a
dream, her usually passive face displaying an alarming level of sadness. “I’m
not sure. I am feeling things, but I have no idea why and I can’t shake the
sense that my past is somehow coming into play.” The sadness in Meena’s voice
sending Morgan to her side, her embrace coupled with a need to take away the
unknown.
“Woah,
you never speak about feelings, and you never speak of your past. Why now?” She
asked worriedly, this certainly wasn’t the Meena that she knew and loved.
Morgan waited for her friend to make eye contact before affirming, “You don’t
have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’m here for you no matter
what.”
When Meena finally spoke, her face
displayed a level of anguish that tugged at Morgan’s heart, “That’s just the
thing, I had no memory of my past. The last thing I remembered was waking up on
that ship. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it,” Meena took a laboured
breath, ‘“I mean, what would I even talk about? The fact that I came from
nothing. But seeing the black cloaks, stirred something within. I know that
they are closely tied to me somehow. Morgan, what if my parents are a bunch of
low life, murderers?”
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