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Salt. You'd never know that you could smell salt. Not unless you sail. Not unless you are out here. On the seas. Blue skies meeting blue waves as far as the eye can see. Barely a cloud in the sky.. It's the best time of year to sail. Usually. It should have been easy for us to navigate these waters. The Besparie never sail these straits this time of day. They usually stick to a very strict schedule. This ship just had to be different. It just had to be today. My name is Shawn. I've been on these waves for as long as I can remember. I've seen a lot of good sailors, good men lose their lives to the Besparie Dominion. They are merciless and take no prisoners. If you have the misfortune to come across one of their warships all you can expect is a watery grave. "Move it boys they haven't seen us yet!" Shane yelled from the crows nest. Our lookout had never sounded more scared. He's been my friend since boyhood and he's not much of a fighter. That's why we keep him in the crows nest. Away from the blades and powder. "Maybe if you got your ass down here we could get this ship turned around before they turn it into a funeral pyre!" I yell back pulling the wheel as hard as I can to port. "He's too much of a coward. You know that. He'll just get in the way." That was the Captain Marcus Barthalmew Port. He took Shane and myself under his wing when he found us picking pockets in Hyenas Port. "Come on Cap'. I'm not that fuckin' bad." Shane yelled sliding down the rigging. "You call me Captain, or you'll need to be asking the Besparie for a ride." Port growled limping down to the main deck. "What's his problem Shawn?" "I don't know Shane maybe the fact that we're about to get spotted by a Besparie Trident." I yell pushing him toward the cannons. "Man the cannons. We're going to need a miracle to make it to Port Idles."