Jacob sat behind his desk in the captain's quarters, Garrett standing by the table, the two of them surveying the tallies from the recent plunder. The loot from La Fortune—a hefty 28,000 silver—had put them in a good position. But the realities of maintaining two ships, supplies, and preparing for future ambitions loomed over them.
Jacob exhaled, running a hand through his hair. The sea was full of uncertainties, but numbers were the one thing that didn't lie.
Garrett cleared his throat, drawing Jacob's focus back to the matters at hand. "We've got 28,000 silver in total, Captain. After accounting for the split among the crew, we've got to think long-term if you want to build this base you've been talking about."
Jacob nodded. "Let's go through it. We need to get the numbers right."
Garrett pulled out the ledger they had been keeping. The faint light of the lantern flickered in the cabin, casting long shadows over the thick pages. The smell of salt and damp wood lingered, mixed with the faint scent of ink from the ledger as Garrett traced his finger along the figures.
"The total comes to 28,000 silver," Garrett began, speaking with the slow precision of a man who understood how important this conversation was. "First, we need to consider the split for the crew."
He glanced at Jacob, who gave a nod. They both knew that without proper compensation, keeping the crew in line could become an issue. A contented crew was a loyal crew.
Garrett continued, "If we follow the usual arrangement, half of the plunder goes to the men. That's 14,000 silver right off the top for distribution."
Jacob leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping on the armrest. "That leaves 14,000 for us to cover repairs, provisions, and… future investments."
Garrett smirked. "Yes, Captain. Let's break down the crew's share."
He flipped to another page where the typical distribution structure had already been outlined. "You get 4 shares. That's 800 silver for you."
Jacob nodded. "Four shares," he repeated, though his mind was already moving to what could be done with that money.
"Then, for me as Quartermaster," Garrett said with a slight grin, "two shares. That's 400 silver."
The captain gave him an approving nod, amused at the subtle pride in Garrett's voice.
"For the officers—Briggs, Elias, Cedric, and the others—1.5 shares each. That's 300 silver for each of them."
Jacob did some quick mental math. "There are five officers, right? So, 1,500 silver total."
"Correct," Garrett confirmed. "Renard and Wicks get the same—1.5 shares each. Another 600 silver for the two of them combined."
"And the rest of the crew?" Jacob asked.
"The regular gunners, sailors, and deckhands, they each get 1 share, which is 200 silver apiece. With about 30 crew members, that adds up to 6,000 silver."
Jacob took it all in. "That brings the crew's total share to 14,000 silver, as expected."
Garrett looked up from the numbers, his brow furrowing slightly. "But it's the rest that needs careful thought. Repairs to The Abyss and La Fortune won't be cheap. We'll also need provisions, weapons, and powder for the next raid."
Jacob leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in thought. "What do we estimate the repairs will cost?"
Garrett rubbed his chin. "The Abyss took a few heavy hits during the battle, but La Fortune was worse off. We're looking at close to 4,000 silver for full repairs on both ships. Add another 2,000 silver for provisions, cannonballs, and other necessities."
Jacob nodded grimly. "That's 6,000 silver for immediate expenses."
Garrett did a quick calculation. "That leaves us with 8,000 silver."
Jacob ran his hand over the smooth wood of the desk, pondering their next move. "We'll have to start being strategic about that remaining silver. If we want to establish a legitimate front for our pirate activities, we need to consider the cost of building a proper base. Somewhere we can dock the ships, trade, and operate without always being on the run."
Garrett leaned in slightly, interested. "A base would give us stability. A place to offload cargo, make repairs, and plan long-term. But it won't come cheap."
"No, it won't," Jacob agreed. "We'll need land, supplies to build a port, and bribes to keep the authorities looking the other way."
Garrett's voice lowered. "You thinking of investing in land here?"
Jacob shook his head. "Not yet. This port's too small for what we have in mind, and too close to people who could sell us out. We'll need to move to a less trafficked area, where the eyes of the Navy won't be on us all the time."
"We'll need to start planning it soon," Garrett reminded him. "These repairs will take some time. Another week or two in port, I'd wager."
"That's enough time for us to set a course for our next raid," Jacob said thoughtfully. "We can use the rest of this silver to start laying the groundwork. But we'll need to hit one more big prize if we're going to make the dream a reality."
"Another intercept?" Garrett asked, glancing up.
Jacob nodded, already working out the details in his mind. "Timing's going to be key. We've got to leave this port as soon as repairs are done. If we miss the window, we'll lose the ship we've been tracking."
Garrett grinned. "I'll let the men know to be ready. No rest for the wicked, eh?"
Jacob smirked, standing up. "Not yet, Garrett."
The two men shared a quiet laugh before Garrett left the cabin, leaving Jacob alone with his thoughts and the ledger.
Once alone, Jacob went to his private stash—the chest where he'd keep his share. Unlocking it, he stared down at the gleaming silver, feeling its weight in both coin and responsibility.
He knew the crew could be tempted, even if they were loyal. Pirates didn't always think ahead; they lived in the moment. But Jacob couldn't afford that luxury—not with the power growing inside him.
He muttered quietly, feeling the familiar cold stir in his chest. With a hand hovering over the coins, he began weaving a curse. It was subtle but effective. Anyone who touched his silver would find their world unraveling—luck turning sour, illness creeping in, and death never far behind. The curse was like a creeping shadow, just waiting to descend on the thief.
Jacob felt a drain in his essence as the spell took hold, but it was worth it. He locked the chest again, slipping the key into his pocket. He knew he'd have to be careful about how often he used this power, but this—protecting his future—was necessary.
With his silver secured, Jacob sat back down at the desk, staring at the map laid out before him. He could see the path to intercept the ship they had been tracking for weeks. It would take precision and timing to pull off the raid while still building his future empire.