A leathery skinned heavy set bald man covered in equally rugged dark colored garb ambles loudly across the wooden deck of a large seafaring vessel surrounded by tens of men and a handful of women, all shouting and hurrying to complete their various tasks of hard labor.
The flood of busy crew members parts seamlessly with the bald man's slow gait showing that he is a man of status on the huge boat, the captain's first mate to be exact.
Finally, the first mate stops in front of a trap door that's leads to the under carriage of the ship. It is directly below the cabin where everyone on the ship sleeps except the captain. It contains the ship's ill-gotten cargo and the deadly arsenal of gun powder cannons that litter each side of the vessel.
The bald man reaches for the handles and rips open the trap door before shouting down into the bowels of the boat,
"Swab! Clean the sick bay now! One of the sick lads croaked last night and shit all over the bed! Clean it up before it seeps into the linens! If it does, I'll make you sleep on them!"
The First mate slams the doors before lumbering away to another post, chuckling all the way.
The trapdoor lies undisturbed for a moment then violently bursts open unveiling a gray ash covered, short and wiry figure, crawling onto the main deck in a coughing fit.
Regaining their bearings, the person immediately rises to their full imposing height of 4'9", hands frantically removing gun powder remnants from their clothes and face. The discarded gray ash reveals the brass-colored skin and faded blue shirt-short combo below.
A round mass of bouncy black curls is somewhat freed from its ashen coating as the individual rigorously shakes their head.
Seemingly satisfied that enough of the offending substance is no longer clinging to their body, their hazel eyes narrow in palpable rage.
Grumbling beneath their breath,
"That fat bald fuck always saves the worst jobs for me… like there isn't a boat full of assholes that can't do it. Bastard lumbered all the way across the ship to have me clean up dead person shit… again. I wish I could've got one more stab in during our scuffle last year…"
With a wistful sigh, the peeved swab stalks off toward their next assignment.
While navigating the raging crowd of smelly crew members, someone notices the small swab squeezing through to the back of part of the ship toward the sick bay.
"Shogo! You'd better get the lead out of your ass and clean up the sick bay. The captain's been on a tear! Being a little boy isn't gonna save you forever!"
The now named swab, Shogo, scowls at the unsolicited advice, but does considerably speed up his pace.
The nearby crew erupts in unhinged laughter knowing that finally none of the crew, even the sole child member, is safe from the captain's murderous wrath.
Shogo clenches his teeth and silently resolves to show all those piss-drenched cowards he is different by escaping this hellhole.
'I'm getting off of this horrific smelly ass boat today. I should throw a barrel or two of rations into the ocean on my way out just for that quip.'
Shogo has been meticulously planning his safe escape with the utmost discretion especially after seeing how the captain violently dealt with potential deserters.
And they are always potential deserters, no one has actually been successful in getting away from the ship without the captain's permission.
It's either someone finds out and snitches before the attempt or they simply can't get beyond the fog and the captain's pets to safety.
Anybody who tries to leave ends up fish food. It's a fact that has turned all the crew men and women on the ship into yellow bellied cowards. No one besides me has dared to learn from the mistakes of those who were brave enough to fight for their freedom.
This ship has been on open water for five straight years with no end in sight.
'I'll be damned if I give this place anymore of my precious time.'
Shogo descends down into the sick bay below the captain's quarters at the back of the ship. The stench of rotting flesh and shit assaults his nostrils.
It causes Shogo to gag a bit, but he manages to keep his stomach lest he have to clean that up too as well as the decomposing body off the floor.
Without missing a beat, Shogo shoves the dead body off of one of the two beds and removes the stained sheets.
Grabbing a swollen ankle in each hand, Shogo begins the process of dragging the bloated corpse to the top deck so it wouldn't get in the way of cleaning the floors.
He'll worry about throwing the body overboard later.
'Only a few more hours of this bullshit and then I can spring the plan into action.'
Shogo can't help but smirk at the large hatch hidden directly below the seldom used operating table at the back of the room.