The Chronicles of Captain Fisher III by Honest Ilana Thompson
Book 1: The Beginning
“Pick up the pace men, put your backs into it!” Rebecca’s order rang across the decks of every ship, sending all the resistance members into a frantic dash to collect ammunition and bring it down to the cannons in order to keep the Armada busy while she came up with a backup plan. Rebecca hadn’t thought the Armada would expect an ambush on the Dreadnaught Regal until she found a broken clockwork bird inside one of their booby traps. Her fears were confirmed when the resistance found nine ships waiting for them. BOOM! A shot from the Armada knocked Rebecca off her feet. Luckily, she fell right into the arms of her husband, Timothy, who helped her back to her feet and turned her around so he was looking into her eyes.
“Becca,” he said, raising his voice slightly so Rebecca could hear him over the cannons, “I don’t think we can hold them off much longer, do you think—“ Rebecca interrupted by saying, “Tim, you’ve been my husband long enough to know that I would never surrender in battle.” “That’s not what I was saying!” Timothy yelled as a cannon fired; Rebecca cocked her head, “Then what were you trying to say?” Timothy pointed past her; she turned around to see that three Armada ships facing the cluster of resistance ships to the left; Rebecca quickly realized the Armada was beginning to surround them.
“We don’t have much time,” Timothy said, “You remember what we must do?” Rebecca nodded and turned toward her crew “Gaspard!” she called. Immediately, the couple’s first mate came waddling up to them, his armor was burnt and his fur, sleeves, and pants were stained with ash. Ever since Gaspard saved the couple’s lives on their first mission as part of the resistance, he was their most trusted companion.
“You called me, Senora?” He said with his head slightly tilted; “Gaspard,” Rebecca began, “It’s…” Tears began to form in her eyes as she struggled for word, “It’s time you receive your final orders.” As soon as he hear this, Gaspard covered a paw over his mouth and tried to stifle back his tears as well, “What are your orders, Senora?” he asked, moving his hand to wipe a tear that escaped from its duct; Rebecca bent down so her eyes met his.
“Tell everyone to clear off the ship, we’ll follow, too. Then I need you to go to Grizzleheim, tell Egor what happened and that he must watch over her now.” Gaspard nodded, still trying to hold back his tears, and turned to his fellow crewmates, “Men!” he called, receiving the attention of everyone on board, “Your Captain has ordered that all of you must evacuate the ship at once, and they’ll follow as well.”
No one questioned this, no one questions the Captain’s orders; ropes were brought down and everyone swung to the nearest Resistance ship; Rebecca and Timothy shared a rope as they swung to the northernmost ship on the battlefield; Gaspard ran to the wheel and flew his captain’s ship away from the battlefield just before the remaining three Armada ships flew to the southernmost part of the battlefield, boxing in the Resistance members.
After Rebecca saw that her ship was ten feet from the battlefield, she then covered her eyes with her hands and let the tears come out briefly before getting her act together just as quickly. She took one of Timothy’s hands and both of them turned around to the Armada ship in front of them just in time to see their worst enemy standing at the bow. Rebecca would’ve known this clockwork from anywhere; she was interrogated by him while she was in that horrible Valenican prison and encountered him on multiple missions. It was Deacon, spymaster for the Armada and the reason they knew the Resistance was coming.
“I’ll give you one last chance, Fisher.” Deacon said in a bitter tone that was fazed by nothing, “Surrender and reveal what you know about the map and I’ll consider letting you all live.” Rebecca put aside what just occurred and let her eyes bore into the empty eyeholes of Deacons mask,
“I’ve spent just enough time in your prison to know you kill threats to your plans regardless. Besides,” she said, slowly rising into a state of rage, “I would sooner die than let you sons of devils come anywhere near El Dorado!” Deacon recoiled, while he doesn’t express it, he does find Rebecca a threat to the Armada, “Very well,” Deacon said as he reassumed his original stance, he turned to the other Armada soldiers, “Kill them!” He called in his unalterable calm tone; with that, he turned on heel and walked back to his quarters while four cannons came out of their nooks on the front of every ship.
Rebecca and Timothy didn’t try to escape, neither of them could and they knew that they’re chances of living were slim when they first came here. But they also promised each other that if they were to die, they wouldn’t die as cowards. Rebecca pulled Timothy into a tight hug and listened to thirty six cannon fires. Meanwhile, Gaspard was thirty feet from the battlefield when he heard the cannons; at that very moment, he let the tears pour out of his eyes like waterfalls but continued on to deliver the grave news: Rebecca and Timothy Fisher are dead.
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