The Trouble with Time Travel...: Chapter 1
Title: The Trouble with Time Travel...
Genre: Mystery, Adventure and Romance (I can't help myself)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, all rightfully belongs to Patrick O'Brian's estate. I'm only doing this for fun and to improve my English. Oh wait, I do own the Crusader and its crew! And my Mary-Sue, of course.
Summary:...is that it never goes as planned. Carry no proof of it, don't stay long in the same place and avoid talking too much about yourself. Those are simple rules that should prevent any traveler from meeting an horrible fate. Of course, it's easier said than done....Yet another mysterious woman is rescued by Captain Lucky Jack Aubrey and his crew, and of course therefore canon goes by the board!
Author's ramblings: (1) Yes, I tend to do that a lot. Normally, you don't need to read those to enjoy the story. However, if you find something in this fis that makes you want to rip my head off, check my ramblings before, you may find there some logical explanation. If not, feel free to grab the nearest sharpest object you can find, I don't run that fast.
(2)Remember what I was talking about in (1)? Well, this is one of those...This story follow more or less the three first novels of the Aubrey/Maturin saga (Master and Commander, Post Captain and HMS Surprise). Of course, I will take some liberties, otherwise what would be the point of writing a story, eh? For an exemple, Mr Pullings will already have his scar. Try as I might, I can't see him without, even if he gets it way later in the books. However, it probably won't look as sexy as in the movie, I'll stick to the book for that, without making poor Mr Pullings the new Phantom of the Opera.
Chapter 1: An unexpected passenger
In which our heroine is rescued, a journey begins and the Doctor shows much courage
Nearly the whole sloop’s company watched as a small boat was pulled alongside the Sophie by Mr Pullings and Mr Mowett, for the news had spread quickly in so small a world. But still not all were allowed to remain idle, as hands were sent above to scan the sea for signs of a possible wreckage.
Indeed, no one in his right mind would undertake a journey in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea in a jollyboat, and it was obvious that something was amiss. However, nothing else could be seen around the sloop, and whatever answer to this mystery would have to be found inside the small boat.
“Sir! I believe there is someone in there!”
Captain Jack Aubrey’s thoughts were disrupted by young Mowett’s voice. Obviously, solving the boat’s appearance would have to wait. “Pass the word for the Doctor”, he instructed his first lieutenant.
Soon Stephen Maturin emerged from below and quickly made his way through the assembled sailors, just as Pullings gently laid the sole survivor on the deck. Behind him came back aboard Mowett, his arms full of what was probably the woman’s belongings, a look of genuine concern on his otherwise cheerful face.
“ I believe she’s still alive”, said Mr Pullings, looking at Dr Maturin.
“Indeed it would seems so, Mr Pullings”, he replied somewhat dryly to the young master’s mate. But Tom Pullings did not mind: he knew well, like everyone aboard, that the Doctor was always touchy before his morning coffee.
“She should be taken to the sick berth with all haste, she’s badly dehydrated and most probably suffering from a severe sunstroke”, said Maturin.
- Very well: Burton and Plaice, follow the Doctor and carry her below”, answered Captain Aubrey.
As the unconscious woman was taken to the sick bay, Mr Babbington, one of the sloop’s midshipmen, dropped nimbly from the riggings, and made his way towards the quarterdeck. He had been sent up with the Sophie’s best spyglass the very moment the small boat had been sighted and had completed his scan of the horizon.
“Sir”, he chirped, “nothing to report in any direction!
- Nothing at all?
-No sir, and Stallard did not see anything either.
- Thank you Mr Babbington.” Jack Aubrey turned toward his first lieutenant: “Mr Dillon, be so kind as to set a course north-west, from the direction the jollyboat came, to see if we might not learn more.
- Aye aye sir!” Mr Dillon saluted and immediately issued a series of orders to make it so.
The hands on deck sprang to their duty, but that did not prevent them from exchanging a few speculations when the officers’ ears were not near, and disagreement often broke. As every common jack knew, women did not appear from nowhere in middle of the sea. Although on that matter every sailor agreed it was just too bad women did not, they all had their own explanation, and each hand was convinced his was the truth. But despite all the quiet agitation, soon enough, the Sophie spread more canvas and sped away towards her new destination.
*******
When Aileen first regained consciousness, her first vision was one filled with many unidentified creatures, looking back at her through the glass of their jars. “What is this place, some kind of museum of horrors?” was her first coherent thought. A more in-depth observation also revealed many books and numerous chirurgical instruments, or so they seemed. Those did little to ease her mind. However, she was back aboard a ship, the gentle swaying of her cot told her so, and it was still far better than to die of thirst and hunger alone in the middle of nowhere. Those who believed that the existence of a shipwrecked person was most romantic were idiots who knew nothing about what they were talking about.
Slowly, she tried to get up and explore her surroundings. But a sudden dizziness overtook her, and the young woman soon had to lie back in her cot. Not only did her head hurt horribly, but her arms and face burned and itched. A little rest, and not a comatose slumber for a change, would not be too much, after all.
As the young woman was about to drift back to sleep, a thought struck her, jolting her back to reality: she did not know aboard which ship she was! What if it was a French or a Spanish ship, or worse, what if the pirates had caught up with her? Aileen cursed inwardly. “And that is if I have not fallen in the clutches of Dr Frankenstein!” she mused while looking again at the shelves and their inhabitants. How could she be foolish enough to sleep if she was still in danger? She had to know at all costs where she was, or else Captain Wallace’s scheme, as crazy as it was, would fail. And Aileen surely didn’t want to be the cause of its failure, she had suffered enough for those damned….“ Papers! Les maudits papiers!” she said out loud suddenly, frantically searching under her shirt. Of course, the precious cargo wasn’t there anymore.
Panicked, she searched around her, and saw with relief that they were on the table near her, their seal apparently unbroken. Carefully, Aileen stretched her arm to grab them and put them back to safety, but suddenly froze: she could hear footsteps, coming her way! Visions of horror on the likely faith of female prisoners aboard a pirate ship swam before her eyes, and she remembered all too well Wallace’s unsaid warnings. Quickly grabbing a scalpel lying next to the documents, she lay back in her cot and feigned a deep slumber.
The person entered the sick berth and paused beside her cot. Aileen did not move and did her best to look sound asleep. “Jesus, now I’m hearing voices…”, sighed the man. “She still has not awoken, after all.” Aileen tried to identify the stranger’s accent, but was unable to. The man spoke English, but did not fully possessed typical British intonations. “But no French ones either, at least”, she thought.
The young woman slowly opened one eye and saw that the man, not very tall and rather scrawny, was sitting at his desk, turning his back on her. The berth being so cramped, he sat so near to her, probably so he could turn his stool at need and tend to her, that she could almost touch him. He didn’t seem suspicious of something, because he had begun to read a book and was singing softly with a creaking, and especially out of tune, voice.
Carefully, oh so carefully, she sat in her cot. The man still did not seem to notice that she had awoken, and had since then removed his wig, which lay besides his book. In one swift move, she pressed the small knife on his throat, and said with a voice she hoped was threatening:
“I strongly advise you, sir, not to move, nor call for help and to answer my questions with obedience.
- An excellent suggestion, to which I shall most heartily comply.
- Stop acting the fool with me! Aboard which ship are we? Of what nationality does it hail from?
- My name is Stephen Maturin, and I, too, am delighted to make your acquaintance.”
But his politeness was only rewarded by more pressure exerted on his throat. He sighed.
“I am the surgeon of the Sophie, which, I was told many times, is a sloop o’war. She is under the command of Captain Jonathan Aubrey, of His Majesty’s Navy. Oh, and you may call me “Doctor”. Satisfied?
Aileen’s reply was drowned in a booming:
“What in God’s name?!?” The previously introduced, Captain Lucky Jack Aubrey, was now blocking the orlop’s entrance with his massive frame, and looked none too pleased.
“ Ah Jack! My dear!” cried Stephen, “As you can see, my patient finally decided to join the world of the livings. And she is apparently in great shape. Would you be so kind as to convince her of our good will, and that no harm shall come from us, wherever she comes from?
Jack stood up, as much as his crammed position would allow, and said:
“Madam, pray release my surgeon and friend, and rest assured that you shall be treated honourably as long as you’ll remain on board, whatever your nationality and your past deeds, you may have my word upon it. My name is Jonathan Aubrey, and I am the captain of this sloop, the HMS Sophie, and you can be sure I would not have a woman mistreated aboard my ship”, he finished in an indignant tone, as if such a thing was unconceivable.
Aileen looked at the blond giant who stood before her, and felt relief flood through her weary being. Captain Aubrey was undoubtedly British, and a captain, as could be told from his uniform. Furthermore, the excited comments that could be heard behind Aubrey’s back were also typically English. She lowered her arm, thus releasing Doctor Maturin, who, however, did not rise from his seat.
“It’s alright, I believe you”, she said, “Please do forgive my rash behaviour, Captain Aubrey, I had no idea where I was, and knew not the identity of my saviours, and I … the papers… Captain Wallace…whoa…”
Fear and the rush of adrenaline it had given her, which had allowed her to take Maturin in hostage, left her suddenly, and she lost consciousness. Her body collapsed softly against the Doctor’s back. Maturin turned around, caught her and gently laid her back in the cot. Meanwhile, Jack entered the sick berth. He asked in a low voice:
“Pray tell me, my dear doctor, do you have any idea what she spoke about? She mentioned Wallace, of the Crusader…
“Yes, I forgot to mention this, forgive me. Our survivor carried with her some sealed documents. I discovered them while searching her for other injuries, but her condition was such that I did not have time to give them to you.” He checked the pulse of his patient, and with his other hand pointed behind him: “They are over here.
- Thank you very much sir. Do not worry, I understand that your patient’s health should come first.” In fact, Jack Aubrey was perhaps a little annoyed at this delay, but did not want to show it. He prized much the Doctor’s company, which freed him from the loneliness that came with a captaincy, and wished to keep him aboard the Sophie. And so he said nothing, although he was now much worried about the fate of the Crusader. He suspected the worst. Otherwise, why would Wallace entrust a woman with important papers and then leave her alone in the middle of the sea?
Those thoughts whirled in his head as he went back in his cabin to read the documents. So preoccupied was he that he scarcely noticed the sailors and the marines who had come to see what the commotion was all about, and were now scattering out of his way. But suddenly, a very queer detail about what had just happened popped amidst his interrogations, and he could not help returning to the sick bay.
“ Doctor, I’ve noticed that you seemed hardly moved by the accident, although you had a sharp blade under your chin. I must say I admire much your courage, sir.
- Why, you do me too much honour, my dear, in fact, there was nothing to fear! She could not have hurt me much in such a state of weakness. Worse, what she probably thought a mortal weapon was in fact one of my old scalpels. Quite harmless in fact! I left it there to remind me to give it to Mr Thornton, so he could sharpen it. My, its old blade is so blunt it couldn’t cut bread! Really, it would not have wounded me mortally, I assure you.
- I see… Well, I must be off, I have much yet to do”, he said, waving the documents, and finally taking his leave from the doctor, this time for good.