Barnabas Williams did not wake early for any reason. Especially not for a summons. He had received the telegram the night before, but had chosen to ignore it. He was drunk at the time, something his current state reminded him of. The knock at the door sounded like thunder to his aching head.

"Go away Andrew. I do not wish to entertain anyone this early." A stout man entered the room. He was dressed rather fine in a black manservant outfit and carried a silver tray with him.

"It's already past noon, Sir. You've missed another meeting with the Admiralty. They were going to assign you and your men to a ship today, Sir. Something, I'd wager you'd want an opinion on." Andrew set down the tray; on it was a small sealed envelope. Barnabas grumbled as he reached for the letter and opened it.

My Dear Sir,
You and your men have been assigned to the good ship Cour Valant. Starship. Currently under the command of Evelyn Ghost, Captain. You are to meet your quarry at the dock at precisely three in the afternoon. Failure to do so may see you striped of rank. Thank you for you cooperation.

A note was written beneath in horrid handwriting: Don't mess this one up, boy. You've been warned.

Barnabas tossed the letter to his bedside table and rose. The clock on the table flashed 2:30. He swore under his breath. He looked down at his attire and found that he was still wearing the suit he had on from the previous night. "Andrew?" He called.

"Already taken care of, Sir." The butler, coming out of a large closet presented him with a clean outfit. The tailored outfit fit him well. The brown pants fell crisply to the tops of his feet, enough to rest on the shiny black boots he would put on later. The cream vest cinched his shirt tight to his chest, enough so to limit his movement; he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

He made his way out of his room and down the hall - making a quick stop to relieve himself in the bathroom and straighten his hair. "Andrew?" He called again.

"You're bag, Sir." Andrew said placing the bag on the floor at his feet. "And here is your jacket." Barnabas slide into the crimson jacket with ease, but left it unbuttoned. Andrew assisted him with his boots, which - even though hidden under his pants - went up to his knees. "Shall we go now, Sir?" Barnabas nodded tiredly, and yawned.