Fleet commander Richard watched as the three ships in the distance tangled together.
"Damn it, what are those fools doing?" He asked himself.
The pirates had outnumbered their enemies two to one but somehow they let their foes close in and fight in a close range battle.
The commander shook his head helplessly. He couldn't help those foolish captains at this distance. Even though he was the fleet commander, each captain took charge of his own ship. At most he could send them vague signals. They were too far out of range for his cannons to be of any help.
"Pull out all the stops!" The captain barked. He hopped that he wouldn't have lost too many pirates by the time they arrived.
As the crew rushed into action, the first mate came sprinting toward Richard.
"Commander, commander, this isn't good!" He said while panicking.
"What is wrong?" Richard asked.
"The storm, it is the storm." The first mate answered.
