Xaden’s arms were folded behind his back, authority wavering off him that commanded the attention of the busying crew mates. The ship rocked with the waves. He stood on the balcony overlooking the main deck, his dark hair waving in the ocean breeze.

“Hoist up,” He commanded, his eyes scanning the horizon line then flicking to the skull flag, “We’re nearly to port.”

Crewmates scrambled without a second thought, the black flag dropping, hoisting a fake trading ship flag in its place.