“No hot shots!” Mark ordered, “We only want to kill the sea bastards! We have no need to kill their cargo!”

A man handed Shane a bag of powder he had prepared and Shane packed it deep into the gun using a ramrod. Then quickly rolled in a small round shot before taking the lit sulphur torch and touching it to the touch hole as Mark ordered them to “Fire!” in return. The guns of The Robin shook the ship with a loud series of cracks and booms. The cannons made contact with the deck of the slave ship creating splinters of deviating wood catching some men in the eyes or spearing into their flesh.

The two ships started to circle one another slowly as their guns went off on each other and the distance between the ships came to mere meters and the guns were, for the most part, forgotten.

“Take those sons of bitches out!” Mark ordered. A few men cut lines and swung across onto the slave ship and engaged in battle. Shane took a short run before pushing her right foot hard off the bulwark and landed with a roll onto the enemy deck. Gaining her composure she pulled her heavy cutlass from her side ready to fight anyone who dare come near her. She fought a few men but none were as quick footed as she and she would often find herself behind them and holding her formerly concealed dagger to their throats before making a quick gash and dropping them to the floor.

As the men continued their battle Shane jumped down through a hatch in the foredeck and into the brig’s crews quarters on the gun deck and down again another level into the bilge where most of the supplies were stored. A few more men from the Robin landed behind her in order to find the food and start pillaging before they had even won the battle. Shane had wanted to go straight to the captains quarters to look for valuables but food was more valuable while out at sea. As she walked deeper into the bilge and kicked open the first week wooden door she made sure to have her flint lock pistol ready in her hand.