#i am a mad person and actually went through the colonial and west indies records

[gdcee]

Late March 1727, HMS Superb

Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea

James knew Commodore St. Lo as he knew many of the officers stationed in the West Indies and the Americas. That is to say, he was on amicable terms with most of them, but they were more or less professional acquaintances. The only officers James considered friends were Andrew and Theo. He was content for everyone else from work to remain acquaintances - some friendly, and others not so much.

James had considered St. Lo to be one of the friendly acquaintances. He was the consummate career soldier - not particularly creative or brilliant, but sensible, determined and thorough. He was reliable and loyal, with decades of experience and a strong sense of justice.

This unfortunately had resulted in him being given the most thankless and dull assignments the Navy had to offer. St. Lo had initially been posted to the Newfoundland Station, where he had to contend with uncooperative, corrupt governors, a non-productive fishery and perpetual turf wars between the colonists and fishermen. Then, late last year, he had been ordered to take command of the Porto Bello Blockade to replace the then recently deceased Vice-Admiral Hosier - a task just as thankless and dull, but far more unpleasant and potentially life-threatening. 

St. Lo regarded James gravely from under his heavy, bushy grey eyebrows. The rims of his eyes were red and his gaze slightly unfocused.

“I have received your report, Captain Norrington,” he said, his voice noticeably hoarse, “I would like to hear your justification for engaging the Spanish Treasure Fleet when our orders are to refrain from any actions that could be interpreted as a direct incursion on Porto Bello.”

"It was my understanding that we were to prevent the Spanish Treasure Fleet from leaving the Caribbean.”

“Indeed. I have listened to the accounts of the captured Spanish officers, and they say that you took no action to stop them.”

“I was not initially aware that anyone had left. It was very dark, sir.”

“Somehow, you became aware that five ships had slipped past, so you left your post in the blockade. Not only that, you convinced the commanders of The Dauntless, The Portland and The Greyhound to join you in your misconduct.”

“I am flattered that you have such a high opinion of my oratory skills, sir.”

Truthfully, it hadn’t taken much convincing. Theo had been itching to do something productive and Commanders Harris and Fowler were notoriously combative and greedy for prize money. The real challenge had been keeping the Dreadful Duo under control until the time was right.

“The Spanish officers stated that it was two days before you made contact.”

James had been quite pleased that his little ragtag squadron had been able to stalk the galleons and their escorting warships undetected until they had cleared Spanish maritime borders.

“Yes. Once we caught up, I hailed them from The Interceptor, and informed them that they were to return immediately to Porto Bello,” James said mildly, his brows rising and lowering reflexively as he added, “They weren't very cooperative.”

“...you think yourself very clever, don't you, Captain Norrington?”

Well, quite frankly, yes. Why should he not? He had managed to deny Spain a great deal of treasure, the shipwrights back in Portsmouth now had two new state-of-the-art frigates to study, and he had managed to do all of that without explicitly violating any of Walpole’s asinine orders.

James did not say of that, of course.

“I cannot say,” he instead demurred, “I was taught that it is considered bad form to blow one's own trumpet.”

“Ha.” St. Lo said humourlessly, “If only your sparkling wit gave amusement alone instead of coming bundled with stress and headaches.”

James couldn’t help but feel a little sheepish. St. Lo had obviously been given a difficult and thankless task. The poor bugger looked like death warmed up. He didn’t deserve to have more burdens added to his load.

But the senseless deaths, the utter uselessness of the Blockade - these injustices were exactly why James could not simply sit and do nothing.

"If my actions have caused you distress,” he said quietly, “I apologize. However, I do not regret my actions, and if any disciplinary action is to be taken-”

“Don't be daft,” St. Lo coughed raggedly into his handkerchief, “Your little squadron captured three galleons, two warships and a big fucking pile of gold. The Admiralty and Whitehall are pleased as punch. Of course, they want me to make a show of smacking you on the nose like a naughty dog, but rest assured, no one wants you gone. Not even Walpole.”

“Fucking Walpole,” James muttered.

“I don’t like Cock Robin any more than you do,” he sighed, “But you’d best be careful not to make yourself any more visible to the most powerful man in London. Right now, he’s only annoyed, and he’s hardly going to say no to a million pesos in gold. If you decide to play hard and fast again and the outcome turns out not to be so lucrative...” His lips thinned and his bleary blue eyes sharpened for an instant and fixed him with a hard stare. “It might not end so well for you.”

James met his stare firmly without flinching.

“Well, then,” he said, “I suppose this means I shall have to be careful not to make any mistakes.”