Report by Okoro:
To Doctor Ananias, my words in verse now sway,
A captain's report, unusual, yet I obey.
For Captain Mallahan, with her lonely heart,
Wished for news to reach her sister apart.
Okoro, I stand, the interim leader,
Once helmed the Henry VIII, a true believer,
Of the Conquest Fleet, to the New World we sought,
Our purpose and strength in battle, we fought.
In your letter, I see the captain's plea,
To share with her sister, secrets we decree.
Of family she spoke not, a solitary soul,
Yet I'll strive to depict the day's heavy toll.
With wisdom, Captain Mallahan perceived,
The glass dome's secret, cleverly conceived,
A concave lens, a window to their plan,
Revealing all, to those who understand.
Atop the council's building it did rest,
The key to signals hidden in plain view,
To spy upon the meeting, we'd invest,
Our telescopes, to gain a clear world-view.
For in that chamber, where the elders met,
The fate of ships and sailors would be set,
The leech-controller watched with bated breath,
To see if we'd be spared or meet our death.
Our captain's plan, a signal to convey,
To me, who'd wield the missile's fearsome sway,
To know if we should strike, and where the blow,
Or spread the blackened liquid down below.
Through telescopic eyes, we'd intercept,
The messages that from the council swept,
And as I stood, with power in my hand,
I'd wait for Captain Mallahan's command.
In verse, I chronicle this tale anew,
Of cunning plans and secrets brought to view,
Our captain's wisdom, now my guide and light,
In daylight, as we faced uncertain plight.
In verse, I shall continue my report,
Of meetings, danger, and a captain's fort,
The view through glass was difficult, 'tis true,
Yet glimpses of the scene within we knew.
We saw our Captain Mallahan assailed,
By elder's threats, her courage uncurtailed,
With fear and rage, I watched dear Kianu,
Struck down by shots, his leg in pain anew.
I cheered when Captain, with her strength so pure,
Disarmed an elder, struck him to ensure,
But then, a frightful sound, as Kianu rose,
He fired above, the chaos then did close.
The concave lens, now shattered, hid from sight,
The fate of Captain, Kianu, and your plight,
No guidance now from Mallahan, I'd find,
The choice to act or wait, on me, confined.
For she had said, no orders to obey,
For twenty-four long hours, come what may,
Yet still, she'd planned this signal to confer,
In truth, the choice was mine, and mine alone to bear.
With glass rain falling, chaos in its wake,
I knew the monster's master would partake,
In vengeance swift, his leeches he'd release,
To strike our fleet, and seek to find some peace.
To radio, I strode, the weight I bore,
To Albert and Sofia, captains of the core,
"Release ten percent of ink," my voice rang clear,
A blackened cloud around the fleet appeared.
Yet far from them, the Henry VIII, alone,
We faced the island's wrath, our danger known,
A great concern for me and crew, we braved,
The unknown threats and darkness, unenslaved.
At open sea, each ship and sub were found,
Close to the harbor, their safety to surround.
But Henry VIII, my vessel, stood alone,
Near shipyard's edge, on the island's distant zone.
In high seas, all vessels shared the stage,
Yet isolation marked the Henry VIII's page.
Our words through radio waves, the distance spanned,
From shipyard to the port, united we manned.
The waters churned, and frothed, and came alive,
The ship, it shuddered, groaned, we'd not survive,
Alone and shaken, crew and I, we stared,
Into the face of danger, unprepared.
I rushed upon the deck, the scene surveyed,
The men and women's faces, all displayed,
The terror, as the monsters surged and swam,
But calm was I, to face this sea of dam.
We felt the impact, struck upon our side,
The creatures had arrived, their wrath implied,
But Henry VIII and crew had tricks, no doubt,
We'd fight these beasts, and force them to give out.
With harpoons, blades, the sailors took their place,
I shouted loud, my voice a rallying grace,
"Prepare the traps, the nets, for battle brace,
We'll teach these leeches lessons, in this race!"
The monsters, huge, with teeth like sharpened knives,
Attacked our hull, their slick and slimy hides,
They gnawed and pierced, their goal to make us fall,
But we, the crew, would answer to the call.
Our ship's submerged blades sliced through their mass,
Some died, and others fled, a victory to amass,
We shot our harpoons, not as swift as we had hoped,
Yet each dead leech was cause for us to cope.
We fired cannons, nets into the sea,
And caught more creatures, fighting valiantly,
The sailors fought, with strength and courage true,
To keep the leeches from the hull they knew.
With acid burns, some sailors met their fate,
But none had died, their courage would not abate,
We could not win alone, the fight so dire,
The monstrous horde seemed endless, a sea of fire.
I yelled aloud, my voice a battle cry,
"Keep fighting, crew! No fear, do not comply!"
The leeches gnashed, their teeth tore at the hull,
We'd surely sink, our chances seeming null.
But in that moment, surfers from the shore,
Approached the Henry VIII, their boards they bore,
At least fifty strong, a sight to see,
Their intervention, a lifeline, offered free.
Five of them, with arms outstretched and strained,
Carried large bloody chunks of meat, ingrained,
Upon their boards, a tactic to distract,
To lure the leeches from their ship-bound pact.
Their instincts followed, hunger as their guide,
Away from us, the leeches did subside,
Then dozens more, upon their boards they rode,
Towards our ship, their courage overflowed.
But Hermedy, the bait-bearers consumed,
By monsters, in their watery doom,
Five more were felled, the sea turned red with gore,
Their sacrifice, we'd not forget, for sure.
Our crew, they acted, waiting not for word,
Their ropes flung fast, to help the surfers board,
The ones who'd braved the waves, the fight, the swell,
Embraced by crew, as tears and cheers befell.
But victory was fleeting, false, and thin,
The leeches soon returned, their rage akin,
Before the surfers could explain their plight,
The battle waged anew, with all its might.
A surfer, catching breath, approached my side,
His voice was urgent, eyes so open wide,
"Captain Okoro, we beg you, lend your arms,
For Kianu's signal, now we must be swarmed.
He shattered glass, the elders, some did fall,
Now we must end their reign, and heed the call,
A revolution stirs, but we need guns,
To stand against the tyranny, as one.
Their loyalists, if armed, will cause us strife,
And blood will spill, rebels' dreams will be snuffed,
Please, help us now, to find a better life,
Together we shall rule, when times are tough.
A safe harbor, here, we promise to provide,
In your conquests, by your side, we shall reside,
To kill the monsters, we will lend our hand,
But please, give us the means, to make our stand.
With weapons, we shall conquer, and we'll see,
An era of equality, upon this isle, so free."
Those words, they shook me, to my very core,
To arm a faction went against our lore.
Our Navy's way was not to lend our might,
But face the foe, and fight our own hard fight.
Yet this was not a normal time or place,
No human army stood, to give us chase.
An idea battled, clashing with another,
Was death the answer, brother against brother?
Should I give weapons, fuel a civil war,
For people, once oppressed, to settle score?
My thoughts were interrupted, sharp and clear,
The leeches swarmed, attacking, drawing near.
With a loud "CRACK!" the hull began to fail,
The ocean's force rushed in, a flood, a gale.
The Henry VIII was doomed, we all could see,
My crew prepared for death, as one, with me.
Abandoning the engine room, we tried,
To sail, with tilting bow, and rushing tide,
"To the boats, men! Abandon ship!" I cried,
Our chances slim, but we must now decide.
I looked at the surf leader, stern and cold,
"Do what you must, our ship is lost, behold.
I won't hand over arms, but can't stop theft,
You know the ship, its secrets, what is left."
I focused on evacuation, then,
The sounds of breaking wood and metal, when,
The cursed leeches tore the hull apart,
And with each crack, our ship, and hopes, did smart.
I could not leave my ship, that much was clear,
Yet sending men to die, that too, I feared.
My crew, obedient, formed a steady line,
To wait their turn, in order, calm, resigned.
The surfers, trusting in a miracle,
Descended ladders, as the ship did fall,
Towards the arsenal, they moved with haste,
For all knew death, most likely, we would taste.
The only chance, if leeches would divide,
Focus on one boat, let others glide.
But odds were, ship and boats would all be lost,
And crew devoured, like Captain Turner's cost.
Cursed elders... In that moment, Cynthia crossed my mind,
Why send us here, on Henry VIII, confined?
With black ink's shield, the others were secure,
But we, exposed, a fate we must endure.
That wasn't Cynthia, the one I knew,
She always had a plan, a clever ruse.
She loved her crew and would not let us die,
But in the end, she'd left us, hadn't she, why?
Suddenly ashamed, my faith in her misplaced,
A screeching sound, and brilliant light embraced.
A guided missile, from the subs it flew,
Pierced waters near, as if it always knew.
A muffled blast beneath the waves we heard,
A blackened cloud emerged, the scene was blurred.
The leeches died, their bodies floating near,
Their sheer vast number now becoming clear.
We cheered with joy! Though ship was lost, lives saved,
I ordered lifeboats lowered, as the brave
Jumped into waters, swimming towards the shore,
The surfers too, with pistols, calm, secure.
"We'll need at least one boat, Captain," they said,
"Did you know the missile'd come to our aid?"
I asked them, curious, to know their thoughts,
"No, but Captain Mallahan wouldn't leave you to rot."
"We heard much of her, as the ship we fixed,
A shame it took so long, a fate betwixt."
They took a boat, and headed towards the isle,
And I, the last, hitched a ride, and shared a smile.
