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Commodore Rigney Birkin and the Lava Tunnel Pirates


by pillsi

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You have always considered yourself a traveller. Your stories of daring adventures and races from gigantic monsters seemed incomparable and provided you the fame and recognition you thoroughly believe you have deserved since childhood. This changed for you, however, one afternoon as you strolled through Moltara- picking up metal goods and lamps to trade during your travels -when a smiling, magma, Gnorbu hollered your way across the sweltering street.

     "Traveller," he announced in your direction. "Do you care to have all your questions answered?"

     You looked at the Gnorbu. He seemed kind enough, a smile stretching across his face to reveal fire-red teeth. You shrugged your shoulders as you walked into the small hut and sat down across from the Gnorbu.

     As the Gnorbu shook your hand, he said, "My name is Igneot and I am a mystic who knows all."

     "Yeah, right," you scoffed, staring at the Gnorbu. "Nobody knows everything." Gazing around the room, you wonder how mystical this Gnorbu really was. Where were the symbols etched into the wall? Where was the crystal ball? You looked down to the table teetering cracked between you and Igneot, seeing a glowing orange piece of coal. Was that the crystal ball?

      Igneot raised his eyebrow at you. "Go ahead then, ask me any question."

     You thought for a moment, pondering the most absurd question he would not be able to answer. This mystic does not know you, you realized as you thought through questions in your mind. A devious smile stretched across your face, your heart racing at the prospect of proving this jerk wrong and adding another grand story to your list of adventures – The Moltaran Mystic, Liar in Disguise.

     "Name any other adventurer who has had better adventures than me," you challenged the Gnorbu. Irritation began in the pit of your stomach as his grin stretched wide between his ears.

     "I know a man who sailed the lava tunnels of Moltara," the Gnorbu stated as he delved into his story, "And he had an adventure you have never had."

     ---

     It was a position of honor in Moltara to be recognized by the title of Commodore. Few Neopians had acquired this title, but none were more deserving than Rigney Birkin.

     Birkin had been just a small Kougra when he first set sail upon the S. S. Steam Reliant. He started out as a mere deck swabber, but it was not long before he worked his way up the chain of command and became Captain. Commanding his ship with discipline, but fairness, he motivated his sailors to work hard daily so the pay was well earned.

     It had been one day--while the S. S. Steam Reliant was transporting that week's metal ore to Moltara-- the S. S. Steam Reliant came under attack. Rigney Birkin was sauntering through the engine room, making sure no engine overheated as it sailed over the lava on that hot day – hot even for Moltara's standards. The gages read green and a healthy steam screamed from the metal holes, telling Birkin all was good and the ship was running well.

     "Incoming ship!" a sailor shouted into the horn—a communication device used throughout the large steam ship.

      "Strange," Rigney Birkin mumbled to himself ascending the metal steps, his boots stamping against each grate with a light clinking noise. Walking upon the main deck, the humid air assaulted Birkin's nose, increasing his difficulty to breathe. Sweat began to drip through his fur. Gazing about the main deck, he was addressed by his first mate.

      "The ship approaches quickly, sir," his first mate reported. "We have attempted to make contact but to no avail--the ship does not reply."

      "Strange," Rigney Birkin said yet again, only this time to his first mate. "What ship wouldn't hail us in the lava tunnels? All the merchant ships make contact with one another in these tunnels. The tunnels are wide, but still even the best of captains can lose control of their ships from the lava waves."

      "Perhaps it's an enemy," Birkin's first mate suggested.

     As the ship approached, Birkin's anxiety grew. Pacing along the main deck, his hands firmly clasped behind his back, he debated whom the unknown ship might belong to. The ship grew closer to the S. S. Steam Reliant. The crew grew nervous as no flag was flown and no signal of hospitality was made. Birkin climbed into the pilothouse. The small, red, Wocky nodded his head in respect to the captain as Birkin stared out the front window.

     "Oh Fyora help us," he whispered as the approaching ship finally raised a flag. The flag was not of the Moltaran shield, but instead a jolly roger, a Nimmo skull with crossbones underneath.

     "Prepare for battle," he cried. "Do not let them steal the metal ore."

     Rigney Birkin's crew hustled about the main deck like sailors do when havoc approaches their ship. Above on deck, a JubJub bounced around loading a cannon. Below deck a Shoyru shoveled coal into the furnace, increasing the speed of the S. S. Steam Reliant. Birkin gazed ahead to the pirate ship, a large metal steam ship, much like the S. S. Steam Reliant with tall stacks billowing black soot and smoke into the tunnel. Perhaps, Birkin thought to himself, if we fill the tunnel with smoke, we could slip by unnoticed. With haste, Birkin reached up to the radio horn.

     "Captain Birkin to engineering, Captain Birkin to engineering, can you hear me?" he boomed into the communicator.

     "Loud and clear, Cap'n.," a squeaky little voice replied through the communicator.

     "I want you to fill the engines with coal, make as much smoke as you can."

     "Aye-aye sir," the voice agreed. "Exactly how much smoke, sir?"

     "Enough to fill the tunnel."

     The ship was now upon the S. S. Steam Reliant. Sailors tried muffling their coughs into cloths and handkerchiefs but the smoke in the tunnel was still too much. The crew retreated inside the ship's engine room or the pilothouse whereas Birkin had stepped out onto the main deck once more. Rigney Birkin's heart raced, thumping with a thunderous noise against his burnt-orange chest fur. He ran a paw though his white mutton chops and up to his ear, sweat drops sticking underneath his claws.

     Birkin's first mate approached. "We seem to be under cover from the smoke," he reported. "Do you really think this is going to work?"

     "I don't know," Rigney Birkin admitted. "Be prepared for anything and keep the sailors quiet."

     The smoke wrapped around the metal sides of the ship in thick ribbons, but Birkin worried it was not thick enough. The engines of the pirate ship were no more than fifty feet larboard. Bracing himself against the smoke shafts, Birkin strained his ears to listen. Across the tunnel the pirates shouted angry and irritated at one another.

     "Ye can't see a darn thing!"

     "Open ye eyes ye chunk o' Korbat spit!"

     "Whatcha be callin' me?"

      Birkin smirked as the angry yelling passed by. The S. S. Steam Reliant was nearly clear now--clear to sail back to Moltara undisturbed, without any more trouble. Birkin began to walk back to the engine room to inform his crew the tunnel was clear when something knocked up against the S. S. Steam Reliant, throwing Birkin to the ground with a hard clank of his body against the metal.

      "Oh, Fyora," a pirate shrieked across the lava tunnels.

      "Everyone to ye positions, it be a lava monster!"

      "But the merchant ship be right 'ere!"

      "Forget ye merchant ship, it be a lava monster ye be focusing on now."

      Jumping up, Birkin raced for the helm, boots clanking against the grated metal of the stairs once more. In the pilothouse, Birkin's first mate stood at the wheel, jerking the S. S. Steam Reliant this way and that to counter the waves licking at the sides of the steamship. Birkin looked out the window. The lava monster stood a tall, twenty feet high. His body made of burnt igneous rocks, lava flowing down his body in rivers of drool from his mouth.

     Birkin bolted to the communicator, screaming, "All hands on deck and full speed ahead!"

     The S. S. Steam Reliant roared to life as it made its escape. Birkin assumed the pirate ship would be preoccupied with the lava monster, but he was gravely mistaken. Just as the S. S. Steam Reliant was clear of the smoke, a cannon ball hit the rear of the S. S. Steam Reliant. Birkin turned in the pilothouse, investigating out the rear windows as smoke billowed into the tunnel from the damage. Behind the smoke was the pirate ship, gaining on the S. S. Steam Reliant with the speed of a Shenkuu airship.

     Birkin turned back to the communicator. "Captain Birkin to engineers, what's the damage? Did they hit our engines?"

     "No sir," Birkin heard to great relief. "They missed our engines, but we do have a hefty hole in the ship, sir."

     "Try your best to get that patched and get us out of here. Birkin to deck hands, aim all fire at rear. Slow down that pirate ship."

     As soon as Birkin placed the communicator on its handle, cannon shots fired from the S. S. Steam Reliant. The first three missed, skimming the sides of the pirate ship, but the fourth cannon ball hit dead on. The pirate ship wobbled in the lava as waves of the magma washed up against the pirate ship, the pirates shrieking away from the heat. This provided enough of a delay for the lava monster to catch up. It wrapped its arm around the end of the pirate ship, dragging it back into battle.

     Birkin escaped not only the pirates that day, but also a lava monster. Upon returning to Moltara the mayor promoted him to the rank of Commodore, providing him and his crew special commission to continue sailing the lava tunnels to mine metal ore for Moltara.

     ---

     You stared at Igneot. Sure, his story was fascinating. Sure, Commodore Rigney Birkin had an adventure you had yet to have. Igneot could not know this, however. You would not allow him the satisfaction of knowing he was right, of knowing he knew everything!

     Standing from the table you glared at Igneot, "That was a waste of my time," you spat at him. "I have had adventures better than Birkin."

     Igneot smiled at you. "Of course, young one." His smile irritated you, so you stormed from his hut with such fury you knocked into a large red Kougra, his fur a dark, burnt orange, with mutton chops on his face tracing up to his ears in fluffy white hair.

     "My apologies," the Kougra said, offering you a paw as he helped you to your feet. You look upon the Kougra. Fury and envy swirl in your stomach like lava flowing down the Moltara tunnels as you realized before you stood Commodore Rigney Birkin, the man to have had better adventures than you.

The End

Special thanks to surfersquid of NTWF for proofreading this story and helping me get back into writing.

 
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