1807. During the Napoleonic wars.

Day 201 on board.

Your good friend, Captain Horatio Hornblower, had been put in command of the 38-gun frigate 'HMS Lydia', and you had been chosen as his second-in-command, as you two worked together like a well-oiled machine. He had been tasked to provide arms and ammunition from Britain to Don Julian Alverado—a rebel against Britain's enemy, Spain—as Alverado was planning on conquering the Central Americas. Little did you know, Alverado was a megalomanic who planned on taking over the Central Americas for himself.

It was midnight on your sixth month and eighteenth day at sea, and you stood at the bow of the ship, looking over the still waters. There was no wind, and the only noise accompanying you was the frequent 'creeaak' of the war ship settling over the Atlantic.

The sky was mainly clear tonight, and the white moonlight bounced off of the water, creating a stream of white light. The stars appeared alongside, shining in small yet bright specks in the darkness of night. Learning how to navigate with the stars left a clear imprint on you, as you could name most, if not all, of the constellations you could currently see in the star-kissed sky.

The quiet of the ship brought you a sense of peace. It was certainly better than dealing with all those rowdy convicts you called your crew. All the other officers were asleep.

..or so you thought.

"Still awake, Lieutenant Commander?" Horatio asked quietly, raising a curious eyebrow as he approached you, snapping you out of your trance. He was still in uniform, save for the absence of the black bicorne that he usually adorned on the top of his head.