Post by John Darnacan on Feb 14, 2011 2:37:17 GMT
Part 1- Where's the Rum?
The TARDIS crew had landed in Jamaica in 1718, where the Doctor, Faye and Deiter were enjoyed a leisurely holiday. Deiter was still recovering from his ordeal with the Cybermen. He had spent a two weeks in the Mendarian-sponsored hospital where he was tended to by their cybernisation experts. However, once the Doctor deemed there was no further advantage to staying, they left. The Doctor chose a time and place less likely to have any stressful entanglements. The Doctor had parked the TARDIS near a Caribbean beach, but away from the nearest village, which was a shipping port.
The Doctor and Deiter would smile at one another when they saw Faye dressed in the clothes of the period. She desperately wanted don a bathing suit and swim in the clear Caribbean waters. However, the customs of the early 1700s, would make it too scandalous if she were seen. Although, she would still sneak out in the early morning for a quick dip. After a couple weeks of leisurely relaxation, both Faye and Deiter could tell the Doctor was getting restless.
“What would you say to slipping off to Tetradon III for the Prellaball Galactic Finals?” he inquired.
“What is Prellaball?” Deiter asked.
“It’s a three-sided game,” the Doctor explained excitedly. “Where all the players swing on ropes hundreds of feet above the field.”
“Sounds…interesting,” Faye lied. However, Deiter smiled and nodded, indicating he would be interested.
“Excellent,” the Doctor concluded enthusiastically.
“But before we go,” Faye interrupted. “I want to get some authentic Jamaican rum for my rum cake recipe.”
“Agreed, off to the inn and then back to the TARDIS.”
Down near the docks there was an inn with no name. The locals referred to it as the Dirty Ladle. The three made their way there. Once inside, they realised the inn had a rather rough clientele. A number of the patrons had noticed Faye, she being the only female in the establishment. Deiter volunteered to purchase the rum, while the Doctor took a more protective position with the Faye near the door.
While Deiter was at the bar, Faye took an opportunity to ask, “Doctor, how is Deiter’s treatment coming?”
“Fine, the neural relaxant has eased the intensity of Dieter’s nightmares, and they’ve come less often.” While it had been a month since Deiter had been almost turned into a Cyberman, he was still recovering from his cybernisation trauma. “I expect he’s well along the road to recovery.”
“Good.”
“You do worry about him, don’t you?” he chided her.
“Well, no more than I would worry about you,” she answered defensively. The Doctor just smiled knowingly.
Just at that moment, a rather inebriated and odorous sailor staggered between them. “Perhaps, we should wait outside.” They signaled Deiter that they were stepping out. Deiter nodded.
As Faye and the Doctor, went out onto the porch, they came face-to-face with another two questionable characters. The older one was tall with thinning hair, and missing part of his left ear. The younger was stockier with a full head of black curly hair. Both reeked, from both rum and a lack of hygiene.
“I ‘eard in ‘ere you was a doctor,” breathed one of them malodorously.
“I have been known to lend some assistance from time to time.”
“Well, our cap’n is right sick.”
“Well, I’d be glad to stop by later this afternoon. Where…”
“He needs fix’n up right away,” the rogue growled as he pulled out a flintlock pistol. The other grabbed Faye by the arm and pulled out a knife.
“I’ll go with you” the Doctor insisted. “Just let Faye go.”
“Let’s say ‘er presence will insure you tak’n good care of our cap’n,” said the second rogue, as he held his knife near Faye’s bodice.
They dragged Faye and the Doctor towards the waterfront at gun and knifepoint.
--------------------------------------------------
Less than a mile away Lieutenant Robert Maynard of the British Royal Navy approached the local garrison headquarters. He was not in a good mood. Maynard had been given challenging orders, and was determined carry them out to a successful conclusion. He wasn’t going to let an insubordinate quartermaster get in his way.
“I would like to see Colonel Middleton,” Maynard said curtly to the young soldier. “Immediately!”
“Yes sir, I’ll see if he is available.” The scrawny private retreated quickly into a back room. Maynard surveyed the room disapprovingly. It was untidy, nowhere near Bristol fashion.
“He’ll see you now, sir,” the thin private announced and quickly vacated the doorway.
Maynard walked in and observed the aging colonel sitting behind an old wooden desk.
“I’m Lieutenant Robert Maynard.”
“Yes, and apparently the Navy has stopped requiring military protocol of its young officers,” Middleton sneered. Maynard immediately snapped to attention.
The aging soldier stood and walked from behind the desk with a limp.
“At ease,” he finally said. “I was wondering how quickly you would call upon me. I’ve heard of your run-in with my quartermaster.”
“I need supplies, and he denied me.”
“No, he didn’t,” the old colonel paused. “I did.”
Maynard regarded Middleton as an irrelevant old soldier who had been given isolated command of no importance.
“You command a well supplied ship, the HMS Pearl, I believe,” Middleton continued. “Yet, you demand our provisions?
“In addition to the Pearl, Governor Alexander Spotswood of the Virginia colony has given me command of two sloops, the HMS Ranger and the HMS Jane.”
“Three vessels? Should I be addressing you as Commodore?” Middleton mocked.
“I have a mission from the governor.”
“Yet, the good governor failed to provide provisions?”
“He is not a military man, and he did not anticipate I would need to sail so far south.”
“So I must accommodate the incompetence of you and the royal governor?” Middleton sneered.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deiter came out of the inn with three bottles of rum in his arms. He looked around for his companions. He couldn’t imagine why the Doctor and Faye would wander off, especially with the various questionable characters in the area.
He became instantly worried. He looked around the side of the inn. When he failed to find them, he headed for the TARDIS. He found the TARDIS empty. He left the rum in the console room with a note, and decided to head towards the docks.
He ran as fast as he could toward the waterfront. Deiter could see a ship had departed the dock, and was headed for the open sea.
An old man with a leathery face laughed. “Miss yer ship? Aye, the grog’s done tha’ to many a sailor.”
“Did you see anyone get on that ship that didn’t belong? Perhaps a man and a young woman in a green dress?”
The old man nodded. “Aye, waylaid they were.”
Deiter could just barely make out the name on the ship’s stern, The Queen Anne’s Revenge.
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To be Continued...
The TARDIS crew had landed in Jamaica in 1718, where the Doctor, Faye and Deiter were enjoyed a leisurely holiday. Deiter was still recovering from his ordeal with the Cybermen. He had spent a two weeks in the Mendarian-sponsored hospital where he was tended to by their cybernisation experts. However, once the Doctor deemed there was no further advantage to staying, they left. The Doctor chose a time and place less likely to have any stressful entanglements. The Doctor had parked the TARDIS near a Caribbean beach, but away from the nearest village, which was a shipping port.
The Doctor and Deiter would smile at one another when they saw Faye dressed in the clothes of the period. She desperately wanted don a bathing suit and swim in the clear Caribbean waters. However, the customs of the early 1700s, would make it too scandalous if she were seen. Although, she would still sneak out in the early morning for a quick dip. After a couple weeks of leisurely relaxation, both Faye and Deiter could tell the Doctor was getting restless.
“What would you say to slipping off to Tetradon III for the Prellaball Galactic Finals?” he inquired.
“What is Prellaball?” Deiter asked.
“It’s a three-sided game,” the Doctor explained excitedly. “Where all the players swing on ropes hundreds of feet above the field.”
“Sounds…interesting,” Faye lied. However, Deiter smiled and nodded, indicating he would be interested.
“Excellent,” the Doctor concluded enthusiastically.
“But before we go,” Faye interrupted. “I want to get some authentic Jamaican rum for my rum cake recipe.”
“Agreed, off to the inn and then back to the TARDIS.”
Down near the docks there was an inn with no name. The locals referred to it as the Dirty Ladle. The three made their way there. Once inside, they realised the inn had a rather rough clientele. A number of the patrons had noticed Faye, she being the only female in the establishment. Deiter volunteered to purchase the rum, while the Doctor took a more protective position with the Faye near the door.
While Deiter was at the bar, Faye took an opportunity to ask, “Doctor, how is Deiter’s treatment coming?”
“Fine, the neural relaxant has eased the intensity of Dieter’s nightmares, and they’ve come less often.” While it had been a month since Deiter had been almost turned into a Cyberman, he was still recovering from his cybernisation trauma. “I expect he’s well along the road to recovery.”
“Good.”
“You do worry about him, don’t you?” he chided her.
“Well, no more than I would worry about you,” she answered defensively. The Doctor just smiled knowingly.
Just at that moment, a rather inebriated and odorous sailor staggered between them. “Perhaps, we should wait outside.” They signaled Deiter that they were stepping out. Deiter nodded.
As Faye and the Doctor, went out onto the porch, they came face-to-face with another two questionable characters. The older one was tall with thinning hair, and missing part of his left ear. The younger was stockier with a full head of black curly hair. Both reeked, from both rum and a lack of hygiene.
“I ‘eard in ‘ere you was a doctor,” breathed one of them malodorously.
“I have been known to lend some assistance from time to time.”
“Well, our cap’n is right sick.”
“Well, I’d be glad to stop by later this afternoon. Where…”
“He needs fix’n up right away,” the rogue growled as he pulled out a flintlock pistol. The other grabbed Faye by the arm and pulled out a knife.
“I’ll go with you” the Doctor insisted. “Just let Faye go.”
“Let’s say ‘er presence will insure you tak’n good care of our cap’n,” said the second rogue, as he held his knife near Faye’s bodice.
They dragged Faye and the Doctor towards the waterfront at gun and knifepoint.
--------------------------------------------------
Less than a mile away Lieutenant Robert Maynard of the British Royal Navy approached the local garrison headquarters. He was not in a good mood. Maynard had been given challenging orders, and was determined carry them out to a successful conclusion. He wasn’t going to let an insubordinate quartermaster get in his way.
“I would like to see Colonel Middleton,” Maynard said curtly to the young soldier. “Immediately!”
“Yes sir, I’ll see if he is available.” The scrawny private retreated quickly into a back room. Maynard surveyed the room disapprovingly. It was untidy, nowhere near Bristol fashion.
“He’ll see you now, sir,” the thin private announced and quickly vacated the doorway.
Maynard walked in and observed the aging colonel sitting behind an old wooden desk.
“I’m Lieutenant Robert Maynard.”
“Yes, and apparently the Navy has stopped requiring military protocol of its young officers,” Middleton sneered. Maynard immediately snapped to attention.
The aging soldier stood and walked from behind the desk with a limp.
“At ease,” he finally said. “I was wondering how quickly you would call upon me. I’ve heard of your run-in with my quartermaster.”
“I need supplies, and he denied me.”
“No, he didn’t,” the old colonel paused. “I did.”
Maynard regarded Middleton as an irrelevant old soldier who had been given isolated command of no importance.
“You command a well supplied ship, the HMS Pearl, I believe,” Middleton continued. “Yet, you demand our provisions?
“In addition to the Pearl, Governor Alexander Spotswood of the Virginia colony has given me command of two sloops, the HMS Ranger and the HMS Jane.”
“Three vessels? Should I be addressing you as Commodore?” Middleton mocked.
“I have a mission from the governor.”
“Yet, the good governor failed to provide provisions?”
“He is not a military man, and he did not anticipate I would need to sail so far south.”
“So I must accommodate the incompetence of you and the royal governor?” Middleton sneered.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deiter came out of the inn with three bottles of rum in his arms. He looked around for his companions. He couldn’t imagine why the Doctor and Faye would wander off, especially with the various questionable characters in the area.
He became instantly worried. He looked around the side of the inn. When he failed to find them, he headed for the TARDIS. He found the TARDIS empty. He left the rum in the console room with a note, and decided to head towards the docks.
He ran as fast as he could toward the waterfront. Deiter could see a ship had departed the dock, and was headed for the open sea.
An old man with a leathery face laughed. “Miss yer ship? Aye, the grog’s done tha’ to many a sailor.”
“Did you see anyone get on that ship that didn’t belong? Perhaps a man and a young woman in a green dress?”
The old man nodded. “Aye, waylaid they were.”
Deiter could just barely make out the name on the ship’s stern, The Queen Anne’s Revenge.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To be Continued...
