(There are 2 version of narrative in this chapter. The new script format and the traditional one. It is recommended to read the script format.)
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Script format (including extra content)
[EXT. MALACCA HARBOR - DAWN]
The harbor of Malacca lay shrouded in the predawn mist, a veil concealing the impending act of defiance. The Srikandi, Hffyl's vessel, bobbed gently on the calm waters, crewed by a cadre of Malacca's naval defenders. Captain Rahmat, Syafiq, and Hffyl stood at the helm.
Captain Rahmat: (Low voice) Remember, this isn't about seizing the ship. It's about crippling their supplies. The Portuguese might have more galleons, but without sustenance, they're weakened.
Syafiq: (Nodding) Understood, Captain.
As the sun's first rays began to pierce the mist, they spotted their target on the horizon, a Portuguese supplier ship, heavily laden with provisions.
Hffyl: (Focused) We have the element of surprise.
The Malacca defenders, their hearts steeled for the impending skirmish, readied their weapons. The Srikandi sailed silently, closing the gap between them and their quarry.
[EXT. MALACCA CITY WALLS - DAWN]
Meanwhile, the city of Malacca was alive with preparations for the day ahead. The defenders of the realm, a diverse coalition representing the sultanate of Aceh, Brunei, Orang Laut, Javanese mercenaries, and hired Ottoman soldiers, stood vigilant on the towering city walls.
Laksamana: (Voice carrying authority) Hold your positions! The enemy will come. Our cannons and muskets will be our bulwark. We defend Malacca with honor!
The soldiers, armed with an array of weaponry, from swivel cannons like 'Rentaka', and match-lock muskets to swords, machetes, and spears, stood ready to repel the impending assault.
[EXT. STRAITS OF MALACCA - DAWN]
Back at the harbor, the Srikandi had closed in on the Portuguese supplier vessel. The defenders of Malacca, cloaked by the morning mist, were now within striking distance.
Captain Rahmat: Prepare to sink the ship!
The battle raged quickly on the supplier ship, and the sun continued its ascent in the sky. The defenders of Malacca, driven by the knowledge that their city's fate hung in the balance, fought with determination.
The skirmish at sea intensified, a chaotic clashing of steel, musket fire, and the roar of cannons. The Srikandi's defenders fought valiantly as they sought to disrupt the Portuguese supply chain.
Captain Rahmat: (Commanding) Aim for their stores! Disable their cargo!
Their focused assault began to take its toll on the Portuguese vessel. Barrels of supplies were tossed overboard, and chaos reigned on deck. The Portuguese crew, caught off guard, struggled to mount an effective defense.
Syafiq: We've got them on the ropes!
Hffyl: (Nodding) Put more pressure on them!
A cry rang out as the Srikandi's crew achieved their objective. The Portuguese supplier ship, crippled and in disarray, began to list in the water.
Captain Rahmat: (Satisfied) That's enough! We've done what we came to do. Withdraw!
The defenders of Malacca, their mission accomplished, disengaged from the skirmish, leaving the Portuguese vessel to drift helplessly on the open sea. But there seemed to be a problem. The sky, which had been clear at dawn, now seemed to conspire against them. Dark clouds gathered ominously overhead.
Hffyl: (Concerned) Captain, do you see that?
Captain Rahmat: This is unusual. I haven't seen a storm formed up so quickly.
The wind began to howl, and the sea churned with a newfound ferocity, causing the Srikandi to sway uncontrollably. The sudden tempest threatened to engulf both the victorious defenders and the drifting Portuguese vessel.
Captain Rahmat: (Urgent) Secure the ship! Brace for the storm!
The crew hurriedly worked to batten down hatches and secure everything that could be tossed overboard. The once-triumphant mood was replaced with a tense urgency as the tempest descended upon them. Rain began to pelt down in heavy sheets, and the wind howled. Waves surged, threatening to capsize the vessels.
Syafiq: (Struggling) "This storm... it's unnatural!"
Hffyl: (Clutching the ship's railing) "We have to ride it out. Hold on!"
[EXT. Srikandi]
The ship rocked in a stormy sea, waves crashing against its sides. This ship, though, was a stunner, with carvings that'd put any fancy yacht to shame. the captain, a burly man with a headscarf wrapped tightly around his head, his voice barely audible.
Captain Rahmat: Steady on, brothers!
The sailors, dressed in traditional attire, scrambled on the deck, clutching ropes and shouting to one another.
Suddenly, through the curtain of rain, the dark silhouette of a menacing Portuguese warship emerged, its cannons poised and ready.
Sailor: Portuguese! Brace yourselves!
Hffyl: These invaders think they can simply take our lands and seas?
Syafiq: Hold on to your faith, Hffyl. We'll see them of-
*Explosion*
???: This seems familiar, doesn't it?
A direct hit from one of the warship's cannons. Hffyl spun as he was thrown into the wooden sail pole. A searing pain shooting through his head. Disoriented and dazed, he could barely make out the chaos around him as the Portuguese began to board their ship.
[EXT. SRIKANDI - CHAOTIC DECK BATTLE]
The battle on the Srikandi's deck had descended into chaos. Hffyl, his vision blurred and head pounding from the earlier impact, tried to make sense of the pandemonium around him. Cries of battle, the clash of swords, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air. Rain fell in torrents, mixing with the blood of the fallen.
Hffyl: (Dazed, struggling to stand) Syafiq... Syafiq!
Through the haze, he saw Syafiq locked in a desperate struggle with a Portuguese soldier.
Syafiq: (Defiant) For Allah!
But in an instant, the Portuguese soldier's sword found its mark and stabbed through him, and Syafiq fell, a look of disbelief in his eyes.
Hffyl: (Voice breaking but tired) It's... It's all falling apart...
A cannonball struck the Srikandi once more, sending a shockwave of destruction through the ship. The ship shuddered violently. Wood splintered, and flames erupted. The world around Hffyl spun in fire and chaos. His body was brutally flung across the deck, his blurred vision catching glimpses of his crew, his ship, and the encroaching Portuguese.
Then, another cannon impact, closer this time, sent him hurtling through the air. With a sickening crash, he was cast into the churning sea, the Srikandi vanishing into a fiery inferno behind him.
Hffyl: (muttered) By Allah...
The sea swallowed him, and darkness claimed him once more.
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Original version (a bit outdated. recommended to not read)
Amidst the stillness of the dawn, Malacca's harbor was a scene of muted anticipation. As the ethereal curtain of mist hung over the waters, the Srikandi, with its regal bearing, made its presence felt. Aboard it, Captain Rahmat, Syafiq, and Hffyl exuded a calmness that belied the fierce determination brewing within them.
Captain Rahmat, his voice barely above a whisper, reminded them of their mission. "Remember, this isn't about seizing the ship. It's about crippling their supplies. The Portuguese might have more galleons, but without sustenance, they're weakened."
Syafiq responded with a firm nod. "Understood, Captain."
From the vantage of the ship, they discerned the faint silhouette of their target - a Portuguese vessel, its deck brimming with crates, indicating a bounty of supplies. Hffyl, his gaze never wavering from the ship, voiced the collective sentiment. "We have the element of surprise. Let's make it count."
With every sailor aboard the Srikandi in position, they approached their prey, the waters parting silently for them, aiding their clandestine operation.
Elsewhere, atop the imposing walls of Malacca, the city was a hive of activity. The tapestry of defenders, a coalition representing various allies, was a testament to Malacca's alliances. Amid this formidable assembly, the Laksamana's authoritative voice echoed, rallying the troops. "Hold your positions! The enemy will come. Our cannons and muskets will be our bulwark. We defend Malacca with honor!"
His resounding words were like a spark, lighting the fire of resistance in the hearts of every soldier standing on those walls, weapons at the ready.
Back on the waters, the Srikandi had positioned itself stealthily beside the unsuspecting Portuguese vessel. With Captain Rahmat's signal, the cry, "Prepare to sink the ship!" rang out.
Amid the tumultuous sea, the Srikandi bore witness to a maelstrom of combat, each clang of swords, musket's retort, and the deep-throated roar of cannons painting a vivid portrait of defiance and valor. Hffyl, adrenaline coursing through him, his portable handheld cannon, 'Rentaka', a silver flash dodging blows and delivering its own like a modern rocket launcher. Syafiq, with the 'Lela' swivel cannon, weaved through the chaos, his shots finding its mark time and again.
"Aim for their stores! Disable their cargo!" The words, echoing from Captain Rahmat, pierced the cacophony of battle, directing the defenders to their primary goal. The ensuing fervor saw barrels tumbling into the sea, the lifeline of the Portuguese vessel being systematically cut.
Syafiq, sweat streaking his determined face, voiced the sentiment shared by all on the Srikandi, "We've got them on the ropes!"
Hffyl, his resolve never wavering, urged them on, "Keep the pressure on!"
And then, a moment of sweet triumph. Amid the chaos, the once-mighty Portuguese vessel began to falter, its silhouette leaning precariously as the might of the Srikandi's defenders bore down on it.
"That's enough!" Captain Rahmat proclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of satisfaction and urgency. "We've done what we came to do. Withdraw!"
The jubilant crew of the Srikandi, their objective achieved, began their retreat. But as they disengaged, nature presented a new challenge. The once-clear sky was now awash in dark, foreboding clouds, as if the heavens themselves sought to weigh in on the day's events. The atmosphere turned heavy, and uncertainty loomed large as the defenders made their way back to Malacca, their thoughts on the impending storm.
Hffyl's concerned gaze was met with Captain Rahmat's puzzled expression as they both stared at the looming, dark clouds that now seemed to encapsulate them. The sky had transformed into an ominous, turbulent canvas, and the once-clear sea churned with newfound fury.
Captain Rahmat's voice held a sense of urgency as he assessed the rapidly deteriorating weather. "This is unusual. It's as if the heavens themselves are warning us."
The wind, previously a gentle whisper, howled like a wounded beast, causing the Srikandi to sway dangerously. The sea, which had been relatively calm, now threatened to engulf both the victorious defenders and the drifting Portuguese vessel.
"Secure the ship! Brace for the storm!" Captain Rahmat's orders were met with immediate action as the crew scrambled to safeguard the Srikandi. Hatches were battened down, and everything that could be dislodged was hastily secured. The mood, once filled with triumph, gave way to a tense urgency.
The rain, unleashed by the tempest, descended in torrents, stinging like a thousand tiny arrows. The wind roared and howled, as if it bore a grudge against the intruders in its domain. The waves, now monstrous in scale, threatened to capsize any vessels caught in their merciless grip.
Syafiq, struggling against the elements, voiced what everyone felt. "This storm... it's unnatural!"
Hffyl, his fingers white-knuckled as he clung to the ship's railing, knew there was no turning back. "We have to ride it out. Hold on!"
As the tempest raged on, both the Srikandi and the crippled Portuguese vessel were tossed about like mere playthings on the furious sea.
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In the heart of a stormy maelstrom, the Srikandi battled nature's wrath. Massive waves surged forth, their immense force striking the ship with each tumultuous crash. The beautifully adorned vessel, known for its intricate carvings, seemed almost insignificant amidst the tempest's fury, its sails billowing frantically in the gale.
"Steady on, brothers!" Captain Rahmat's powerful voice resonated above the storm's clamor, his headscarf secured firmly against the elements. The crew, draped in their traditional Malay garb, hustled across the rain-slicked deck, shouting orders, their grips tight on ropes and sails.
Out of the rain's oppressive curtain, the menacing shadow of a Portuguese warship loomed, its dark frame a stark contrast against the storm's gray backdrop. Its cannons, like predatory eyes, aimed directly at the beleaguered Srikandi. A sailor's cry of warning pierced the air: "Portuguese! Brace yourselves!"
Amidst the chaos, young Hffyl, heart pounding with adrenaline and uncertainty, turned to his comrade. "These invaders think they can just claim our waters and homeland?"
Syafiq, his voice filled with defiant spirit, shot back, "Hold your faith close, Hffyl. They won't conquer us today."
Suddenly, with a deafening roar, a cannonball from the Portuguese warship struck the Srikandi with devastating force. The impact was brutal, and Hffyl was thrown with tremendous violence. His world spun as he collided with the wooden sail pole, a searing pain shooting through his head. Disoriented and dazed, he could barely make out the chaos around him as the Portuguese began to board their ship.
Amidst the smoke and chaos, Captain Rahmat valiantly led the defense, but the odds were against them. The invaders swarmed over the deck, their swords and muskets gleaming menacingly in the dim light. In Hffyl's blurred vision, he saw his comrades fighting fiercely, their faces etched with determination. But the odds were overwhelming, and the storm showed no mercy.
Darkness loomed at the edges of Hffyl's vision, and he fought to stay conscious, even as the storm and the Portuguese closed in.
Amid the tempest's fury, the deck of the Srikandi was a scene of unparalleled chaos. Hffyl, battling the dizziness and pain from his earlier injury, attempted to piece together the frenzied tableau before him. Everywhere he turned, the haunting sounds of battle—the ringing of steel meeting steel and the suffocating aroma of gunpowder—engulfed him. Rain, relentless in its assault, painted the decks crimson as it mingled with the blood of the fallen.
Dazedly, Hffyl called out, "Syafiq... Syafiq!"
From the periphery of his fogged vision, he saw Syafiq. His friend was ensnared in a brutal duel with a Portuguese adversary. Every swing, every maneuver Syafiq made was testament to his fierce dedication. "For Malacca!" he declared with every ounce of his being.
However, in a heart-wrenching moment, the enemy's blade found its mark. Syafiq crumpled, his face etched with shock and disbelief. Hffyl's voice, strained and hoarse, could barely muster a whispered "No..."
Nature seemed to resonate with Hffyl's despair. Without warning, another cannonball made devastating contact with the Srikandi. The ship's timbers groaned and shattered, and an inferno sprang to life amidst the crew. Fire and smoke, like malevolent specters, danced in a grim ballet.
Another explosion, even closer this time, rocked the vessel. Hffyl's world transformed into a whirlwind of flame and terror. He was tossed helplessly, a fleeting silhouette against the backdrop of the Srikandi's impending doom.
Propelled by the force, he found himself airborne. Time seemed to stretch as he hovered for a moment between the burning ship and the raging sea below. His last thought before being swallowed by the depths was a whispered homage to his homeland: "Malacca..."
As the waters closed in around him, the abyss of unconsciousness once again beckoned Hffyl into its cold embrace.