"Fire!" The shout echoed across the crowded lower deck. Others took up the cry. "Fire! Fire! Fire!"

One by one, the cannons jerked backwards from the force of their own power. The cannon balls themselves ripped into the enemy ships, tearing out huge chunks of wood and throwing it into the sea. There were screams as the men who were wounded fell overboard, their blood mingling with the cold water.

"Fire!" A higher voice. It belonged to a young boy, standing at the prow of the huge, proud ship. His once white shirt was stained with blood, sweat and tears. His trousers were ripped and there were black marks on his arms from the powder of the guns, but on his face was a wide grin, and his teeth were bright white. Under the hair that fell messily over his forehead, you could see a pair of bright green eyes.

The cannons fired again. This young boy -- and how old was he? Thirteen? -- was the captain of this ship, while his father was absent. No one knew where the man had gone and no one knew if or when he was coming back, so they were forced to follow his son. It was no hardship, though: they had been the most successful of the fleet since he took command, unlikely as it seemed.

"Fire!" This time the yell came from the enemy, and they ducked as shots tore into their beloved ship. On and on they came, and other ships circled. The enemy had not been alone!

"Abandon ship! Abandon ship!"

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Title says it all.

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updated Jun 23 '10 by delorfinde