GRIMY DECKS AND RUMBLIN' ENGINES

The evening sun beat onto the rusted deck of the boat. A salty smell hung in the air, mixed with the bitterness of puffing fuel. The machine groaned and rattled, sending a shiver through the entire structure. The deck was slick with oil, making it difficult to move without sliding. Captain Blackheart paced the deck, his face wrinkled with worry.