1: The Larboard Battery.
The satisfying sound of rolling thunder tore through Gerard’s ears as the larboard battery fired its guns. One of by one, each ton of cast metal recoiled back on the wooden deck, the carriages straining against the restraints that held each gun to the hull. The deck shook with violent vibrations and the whole ship started to roll under the concussion. It was a roar; it was thundering. It was the best symphony possible, a glorious symphony of percussion.
Gerard had rolled the sleeves of his shirt. It was warm enough in the sun, but broiling hot on the gundeck. Sweat ran down his face and into his shirt; it soaked him completely even though he had stripped off his uniform coat, and powder clung to his shirt in streaks. The combination of heat and sweat and acrid, stinging smoke made it hard to see Bush, stationed at the other end of the deck, but he could just make out Bush's long, dark queue against the white of the uniform waistcoat, though. At least Bush had given in and taken it off, too, Gerard thought.
He held up his hand to calm the nervous gun crew to his left.
"Steady, boys," he soothed. "Steady."
If he strained his eyes, he could see that Bush was still trying to gauge the distance to the other ship, trying to match it to the slight roll. It was a hot, still day; the water was mostly still, but there were still minscule adjustments. She was a wooden ship, after all. Despite her iron and men and dead weight, she was a shell floating atop the ocean. It was even possible to make out the sound of waves slapping against the ship.
Gerard licked his lips and tasted sweat and smoke. The seconds dragged. Gerard could see the faintest patch of blue beyond the gunport. Waves. Sunlight. The shadow of the other ship.
It was an eternity before the order came. "Fire!" Bush roared.
The command was almost lost in the subsequent roar of guns. When Gerard, too, set his battery loose, once again, the deck seemed to vibrate as if it were going to split apart under his shoes. The ship moved, too, rolling with the force of the explosions. The ringing had barely begun fading out of Gerard's ears when the men began to cheer; they were waving their arms about in triumph. They must have sunk her. A hit would have prompted joy, but this was celebration. A flash of white indicated Bush was headed towards the upper deck, and Gerard followed.
"Absolutely glorious," Bush said, grinning fiercely.
Grime and the sweat stained both their faces, and Gerard couldn't help grinning back. Was that a chirp in his ear? Gerard was quite sure that his ears were still ringing too loudly to have heard it.
There was, in fact, the breeze he so wanted below on the gundeck. It tugged pleasantly at his hair and clothing, drying the sweat that covered his skin. He was about to say something to Bush about it when the other ship's magazine exploded, splitting the ship in two and sending a hot wave of air and wood splinters in their direction. They ducked behind the rail.
Gerard laughed, his voice louder than usual due to his impaired hearing. "Spectacular! This has been the best one yet!" His words sounded strange in his ringing ears, and that chirping had started again.
"There's something so satisfying about projectile ordinance!" Bush yelled, popped over the railing for another peek at the sinking frigate, saw something that induced a shout of "Glorious! Glorious!" before diving back under, barely ahead of a chunk of the other ship, thick as a man's leg, that went whistling over their heads and embedded itself in their foremast.
Gerard wiped soot and sweat from his face with a once-clean sleeve. It didn't seem to do much good. "You'll admit it's much dirtier."
"Much dirtier," Bush agreed. They were still grinning at each other.
"Mr Bush, sir!" came the sailing master's voice from the quarterdeck. The two looked up and saw the man gesturing towards another frigate bearing down on them from the starboard side. They were on their feet, but as Gerard was running towards the hatchway, Bush caught his arm.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Gerard asked.
"I thought I heard . . . Oh, damn. Compu -- "
Suddenly, the enemy frigate, the ship and ocean around them, including the deck beneath their feet vanished and were replaced with a black and yellow grid.
"Great. . . " groaned Gerard. "He knows we still have an hour before we're on duty."
"That's beside the point," Bush muttered, giving Gerard a shove on the shoulder before jogging to the archway to tap the lit message square. "Yes, sir, Bush here."
"I'm assuming that my calls went unanswered save for loud explosions because the two of you are playing at Trafalgar again," came a familiar baritone voice.
"Yes, sir," replied Bush, with what actually sounded like genuine contrition. Gerard shifted his feet in irritation, and he got a glare for his impertinence.
"My ready room, if the two of you are done playing."
Gerard thought about rolling his eyes, but he resisted and answered along with Bush. "Aye aye, sir."
"Oh, and Mr Bush?" the captain continued.
"Yes, sir?"
"I want the both of you clean and in proper uniforms. Hornblower out."
Gerard groaned and punched the doors for the holodeck. "He's in a right snit again."
"Watch your tongue, Gerard," Bush warned. The doors opened, and they turned left into the corridor. "He's always in a bit of a snit in the mornings."
"At least we got a little bit in before the captain called."
"Exercising the guns does get the blood moving in the morning," Bush agreed, a bit of the gundeck grin still on the mouth, and began tugging at the hair wrapping.
The deck beneath them shuddered a little. "We've dropped out of warp," Bush noticed and began to tug hard enough to make Gerard wince.
"Here, stop, let me," Gerard offered. There was a tangle just behind Bush's ear; he unlooped it, drew the rest of the wrapping through, and handed the ribbon to her. "You and your hair."
"A girl has got a right to long hair. Nothing in the Regs against it, and I'll hear no more about it." Bush said and thumbed the door to her quarters. "The bridge in five, Mr. Gerard."
This time, Gerard did roll his eyes.