As I enter the Captain's office, I take a deep breath, sigh, bow my head. I fucked this up the first time. Here's to that not being fatal to what me and mine plan to do next.
He looks up over his desk full of parchments and papers and scowls. "Didn't I tell you lot to stay out of my way?" he says, pouring himself a glass of something clear.
"Yes, Captain," I say.
His eyebrows raise. He pours from another bottle. "And yet here you are, and my soldiers say you have something to tell me. Out with it, Adventurer, I have your defense to plan."
I clench my fists. This is a terrible idea and I shouldn't be here but it's a less terrible idea than going ahead and...
Deep breath. The captain slices a lime with his dagger, impassive.
"...I, on behalf of my Free Company and the Adventurers here, wish to place ourselves at your disposal in the defense of Costa Dulce," I say, head still bowed, face burning with embarrassment. "Please let us know where we might fit in with your plans."
The man stops with his drink halfway to his lips to look over you. Broken off his stride, and re-evaluating.
"In exchange for...?"
"Our lives? Respectfully, Captain, if this town falls we're either killed in the battle or we run, and then get picked off by the pirates later," I say, trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. "Speaking only for my Free Company, we are not asking for or expecting reward for our own defense, though poor as we are we're not foolish enough to turn anything down."
He considers this for a second, drinking a pull of his cocktail. A fact buzzes in my brain, something about scurvy and malaria and sailors, but it doesn't land.
"...what's your name, girl?" he asks, finally.
"Deedee," I say, and grimace. It's not like he'd get the joke, right? "Deedee Yeowoo."
"Hmn." He gets up, leans over his map. "And, to rectify your disadvantage, I am Captain Miles Diez Caballero Valencia."
I've forgotten just enough high school Spanish to know that's his given name, 'Son of Diego,' probably an honorific, matrilineal name.
"I wish we had met under better circumstances," I say. "We're, uh, not holding up well either."
He snorts. "Given that most of you were acting like spoiled nobles who just realized your free lances are heavy, I would imagine the danger to be an unpleasant shock."
My breathing is starting to become easier, but I still need to consciously direct it. "Less than you'd think, but enough, sir."
Captain Miles indicates a chair. "Let's talk about how you might save your skins and mine, then," he says, taking his dagger and pointing it at the map.
