The Dead Tyrants laugh and cheer, clinking their glasses together and sprinkling wine down below. The speckles of raining tannins are accompanied by the Captain’s gloved fist as she slams it down onto the table.

Boom!

The empty bottles are launched up by the force, knocking them onto their sides and filling the room with a clattering glass applause. The pirates all become silent. Every eye in the room is on Captain Indigo. Her jovial expression has disappeared, replaced by an intense scowl.

"We still live. That in itself is a victory."

She stands to her feet.

"Celebrations are deserved, of course. We survived their trap. But just barely. This week has been hell. This was meant to be a peaceful meeting. Yet, we were led into the heart of the wolves’ den."

Everyone in the room agrees silently.

"That is because we were misled." She states.

The room remains dead silent for a moment.

"Tomorrow morning, we will resume our journey back to Donegal. I'll need to inquire Captain Comoro about this false information he gave us. There may yet be hope for this failed venture. Perhaps we won't have to return to the archipelago empty handed..."

She steps away from the table.

"I am closing the cellar. Rest up tonight. We have a busy week ahead of us."

Everyone remains silent as she leaves the room. Dusty and the others are left mostly confused by the Captain's vague words.

"Ye heard her, Tyrants. Get some rest. Captain's orders." Ringo stands to his feet and quickly follows the Captain, his drunken stupor instantly dissolved.

Dusty assumes that he's off to seek some clarification from the Captain, for the crew's sake. She appreciates his ability to act as the middleman in situations like this. Sebastian listens to the entire scene from the kitchen. He hears a brief exchange of murmurs out in the hallway.

"We will discuss this further in the bridge. Meet me there." The Captain says just before her heavy footsteps approach the kitchen.

Sebastian quickly zips over to the sink and pretends to have just finished washing the dishes. She enters the room, scans the cleaned space, then turns toward him.

"I see that Dusty has already put you to work. Good."

She walks over to the little purple door and locks with a little golden key that matches the door’s accents. The Captain then turns around to face Sebastian again.

"It looks like you are all done in here. I expect the rest of the crew will be returning with their glasses. When you finish washing the cups, you may rest. We’ll be needing you at your fullest capabilities for these next few days. You set the bar high tonight."

The gravity of the Captain’s statement leaves Sebastian stunned. She leaves the kitchen without another word. He stands in the kitchen quietly for a few minutes, waiting for the others to bring in their glasses.

They never come.

Sebastain cautiously makes his way to the dining room to find it empty—the dirty wine glasses remain on the table. Once the glasses are clean, he stands on the far side of the kitchen, next to the entrance to the wine cellar. Sebastian realizes that he was never given a place to sleep. So, he looks around for a comfortable spot on the metal floor to lay down. He spots two large sacks of flour in the corner of the room. He repositions the large sacks of flour into a makeshift bed. Luckily, the bags are both sealed shut.