I like a lot of different things, but one of my top three would have to be nautical culture – pirates, particularly.

This fic is for S&Gs, so expect infrequent updates (if any). For the purposes of shipping, the Loud children are all unrelated and approximately the same age – you'll notice a lack of last names. Anyway, here goes nothing. The year is about 1710. It's a little hard to write about early 18th century Michigan, so I'm trying to just gloss over that completely.

The seas were truly something to behold. Lincoln was glad he had made the long journey to the coastline. His parents had wept at his leaving – his father was furious he would not carry on the family tradition as a Michigan priest, something very common in his home, French settlement. He had read about the seas and the naval tradition; it called to him.

For any who have never seen it, the sea is a truly enchanting beast. Rolling waves that spread into the horizon, water that changes color seamlessly, from blue to grey to green to white. Skies that blaze beautiful hues of orange, red, purple and blue. Flocks of gulls, schools of fish, and creatures so large they boggle the mind. If Lincoln was in love from his books, he was positively seduced by the real thing.

His head spun at the possibilities of this new life before him.

"I could be a ship captain, like Captain Savvy," he said to himself, dreaming to be like the swashbuckling hero of his children's stories, "but that's unlikely… It takes years to take command of a vessel – nobody's going to just hand over a ship to a boy."

The more he thought about it, with the risks of piracy and mutiny, being a sailor didn't sound too appealing. There were other jobs for men of the sea, though: working the docks, being a whaler or fisherman, building ships… The list went on, so the books told him.

"Just pick a job and stick with it," a voice muttered at him. With a start, he turned to face a youth about his age with brown hair kept back in a ponytail, smooth-faced with freckles.

"Excuse me?" Lincoln asked.

"You were talking to yourself," the youth shook their head, "bloody French."

Oh, great. An Englishman. Lincoln bit his tongue, though; the English were some of the best seamen in the world, and Captain Savvy had been an Englishman. Still, his pa had told him never to trust the British. Weird, considering his ma was English.

"Forgive me, sir." Lincoln said.

"Sir?!" the youth seemed offended, "I'm a bleeding girl, you git!"

Lincoln eyed the stranger up and down, unconvinced; she was awfully flat-chested for a girl…

"Fine, believe what you will," the stranger waved a hand, dismissively, "I've got a ship to catch."

"A ship?" Lincoln was excited, "What kind? A brig? A frigate? A schooner?"

"As if a landlubber like you knows the difference," the girl snorted, "you don't look the seaworthy type, kid."

"Well, the brig is a bit tricky since it can also be short for brigantine." Lincoln said, matter-of-factly, "A brig has two square-rigged masts, while a brigantine has-"

"Alright, you little bugger, shush." the girl groaned, "It's a frigate, far as I can tell."

"Amazing!" Lincoln was enchanted by the idea, "Wait. They let a girl onto a warship?" Come to think of it, weren't women a bad omen on any ship?

"Er…" the girl averted her eyes, "It's not really a warship, anymore."

"Oh." Lincoln was a little disappointed, "What's it used for, then?"

"We mostly, uh… carry goods." the girl shrugged, "What's it to you, anyway?"

"I was wondering if I could, maybe… I don't know," Lincoln stammered, "come work for your ship?"

"Are you bleeding mad?!" the girl laughed, "You don't know the first thing about sailing! I'd bet you're from some landlocked backwoods. Go home, lad, before you get yourself killed."

"Please!" Lincoln fell to his knees; begging to a woman, how embarrassing! "I've abandoned everything to sail the seas! I have nothing to go back to!"

A partial lie, at best.

"Ugh, fine!" the girl picked the boy up, "Just quit your groveling. I'll… put in a good word with our captain, but don't make me regret it. No promises, though; she doesn't like men serving onboard."

"Her?" Lincoln blinked, "Your captain's a woman?"

"Yeah, she is." the girl put her hands on her hips, "Got a problem with it?"

"No!" Lincoln held his arms up, defensively.

"Good. Name's Lynn, by the way." the girl held out her hand, "What's your fancy? First name only; ain't got a use for surnames."

"Lincoln." he took her hand and was embarrassed at how soft his was to hers.

"Blimey, not even a single callous," Lynn muttered under her breath, "the work'll eat you alive."

Lincoln gulped. The books always referred to the hardship endured by sailors, but they never went into the details of the work. Surely it couldn't be that bad? Lynn led him down several back alleys. For a moment, he thought he was being hustled and kept his eyes peeled for robbers; none appeared, but there was no shortage of shifty-looking figures. Finally, though, they came to a dock all but hidden by the closely-packed slums.

"There she is, lad," Lynn gestured, "we call her Our Fair Lady."

"Interesting name." Lincoln noted.

The ship left a lot to be desired. Barnacles crusted the waterline, though a young crewman was well at work chipping them off. As they got closer, Lincoln noticed the crewman was a young girl – no older than ten, by the looks of it. He blinked at the sight; women and girls working on a ship? His books on Captain Savvy had never said anything like that, and there were often tales of sea monsters and other oddities.

"Say, Lynn," he began, "is your whole crew made up of women?"

"Yeah, what of it?" she asked, "It's also a mixed crew, so get used to that, too."

"It's just odd." Lincoln confessed, "I've never heard of a woman serving onboard a ship, let alone a whole crew made up of women."

"We're an odd bunch, mate." Lynn snorted, "You'll get used to it."

She led him aboard. Everyone stopped what they were doing to eye the one man aboard. Truth be told, some of these girls were little older than him – most younger – and all hid their feminine physiques within dusty frocks and thick breeches, their hair bound beneath their tricorns and turbans. Lynn blushed, suddenly realizing how stupid she looked leading a man back to their ship.

"What the hell is he doing here?" a voice asked, all cold iron. Everyone Lincoln could see went ramrod straight.

"Captain on the deck!" someone shouted.

"Really?" Lynn muttered sarcastically, then much louder, "Hey Cap!"

Approaching them in a turquoise frock and khaki breeches was an older woman, with short-cropped blonde hair underneath a tricorn adorned with wicks, of all things. Lincoln, though still young, knew she was beautiful. It was hard to take his eyes off her. Lynn nudged him painfully in the ribs to snap him out of his stupor.

"Permission to come aboard?" Lincoln performed his best salute.

"Permission denied!" the captain shouted in his face, "We don't take on menfolk. They only cause trouble. Now get off or I'll have the girls toss you overboard!"

"I won't cause any trouble!" Lincoln held his hands up defensively, "I've always wanted to be a sailor, you know. I know a lot about ships, knots, standing watch, and… uh…" he fell silent under the captain's withering gaze.

"Cut him some slack, Captain Lori." Lynn said, gulping as the stare fell on her, "I mean, he's not like other men out there."

"Really?" Lori snorted, turning back to Lincoln, "I suppose you're ready and willing to serve a woman then?"

"Yes." Lincoln nodded, "It's a little weird, but my ma always did seem smarter than my pa. I never could figure why women had to obey men, not the other way around." He might have been sugarcoating it a little, but to be honest it had occurred to him that he'd rather serve under a woman, anyway – male captains (at least in the stories) were always harsh and abusive. How harsh could a woman be?

"Huh." Lori grunted, chewing her lip, "I suppose we could use a cabin boy."

"And someone to warm our beds at night, eh?" another girl spoke up. She was rewarded with catcalls and a blushing Lincoln.

"None of that, lasses." Lori snapped, looking Lincoln up and down, "He's a crewmate, now; not a whore."

That sobered up a good portion of the older crewwomen.

"S-so I have the job?" Lincoln couldn't believe his luck.

"Don't make me regret it." Lori muttered, "And as for you, Lynn… Bring another man aboard without permission and I'll have you before the mast."

"Aye aye, Cap'n." Lynn saluted, very unperturbed. Lori grumbled and returned to her cabin, slamming the door behind her.

"So what kind of goods do we ship?" Lincoln asked.

"What are you on about?" Lynn asked.

"You said you were shippers." Lincoln reminded her, "Though why you'd all use a frigate, I'm not sure… Surely there were better ships available for shipping."

"Right, right…" Lynn mumbled, "Uh, listen… Don't freak out, or nothing, but we're not exactly shippers."

"O…kay?" the boy furrowed his brow. Why would she lie?

"I need your word you'll serve this crew to the end, got it?" Lynn said quietly, but forcefully, prodding a finger into Lincoln's chest, "We need loyal crewmates, not cowards. Which are you?"

"I'm no coward." Lincoln said with surprising strength.

"Good." Lynn grinned, "You swear loyalty to this ship, the captain and the crew? On your honor?"

Lincoln thought about it. He was raised in a culture that placed women as second-class citizens. To make things stranger, half the girls were younger than him or roughly his age. To be placed as a mere cabin boy… He was beneath all of them. The implications began to hit him, and he felt very emasculated. Still, there was a certain thrill to it – not just to the promise of sailing the sea, but an almost sexual thrill at serving under so many women; lovely women, at that. Even Lynn had some charm about her, hidden underneath the calloused hands and gutter language.

"I so swear." he said.

"Okay." Lynn nodded, "Now don't freak out or yell, but we're not shippers."

"I gathered that." Lincoln noted.

"We take what we want from enemy vessels," the girl clearly had trouble explaining the concept but Lincoln immediately picked up on the hidden context.

"You're pirates." the blood drained from his face.

"Aye." Lynn shrugged, "Privateers, or corsairs if you prefer. Sometimes we're hired by the government."

"Which government?" Lincoln asked, still clearly stunned.

"Whichever pays the most," another voice giggled.

Lincoln turned, recognizing the voice as belonging to the one who suggested he warm all the girls' beds. She was older than Lynn and Lincoln, though not by much, with brown hair bound in a ponytail beneath a tricorn. Her teeth were crooked, but who was Lincoln to judge when his were too? Her shirt was a hideous yellow plaid twill, and her pants were a vibrant green. It hurt his eyes to look at her clothes for too long.

"Ah, Lincoln," Lynn said, "this here's Luan, our fool."

"You're too sweet." Luan bowed, "So your name's Lincoln, eh? Weird. You sound French."

"My pa married an Englishwoman." Lincoln said, "You sound… Dutch?"

"Guilty as charged." Luan laughed, "You know, we have a French girl aboard."

"I think he'd sooner dunk his head in the bilge than talk to her." Lynn rolled her eyes.

"Jealous?" Luan smirked.

"Luan," Lincoln preempted the argument, "what is your job, really?"

"I'm the boatswain." Luan said. Lincoln tried not to fret about that; the woman tasked with caring for the ship was a loon.

"Who else should I know about?" Lincoln asked, trying to distract himself from panic.

"Our navigator is Lisa – the second youngest crewmate, but a genius with maps and sextant." Lynn said, "Luna is the quartermaster – she loves leading us in shanties. Leni is the first mate of the ship, with Lori being the captain. I'm in charge of the cannoneers. Lola, Lana and Lily are all a little young for real work, but Lana loves cleaning off the barnacles; Lola enjoys working the crow's nest; and Lily's just a baby. I think that's about it."

"You forgot our French girl." Luan snickered.

"Right…" Lynn muttered, "Lucy oversees the watch. She likes to personally take the night watch, so you won't see much of her."

"All of your names start with L?" Lincoln asked.

"Coincidence, lad." Lynn said.

"What exactly will I be doing?" Lincoln asked, "I mean, as a cabin boy?"

"Swabbing, most likely." Lynn said, "Probably assisting our galley officer, Clyde."

"So there is another man on board." Lincoln said.

"Not in the eyes of many, sadly." Luan noted, bitterly.

"What's that mean?" the boy asked.

"You'll see." Lynn said.

"Cast off, mates!" Lori's voice shattered the calm, "Royal Marines have been spotted nearby!"

"Wonderful." Lynn grunted, "Just what we need."

"Marines?!" Lincoln gulped.

"You'll see a lot of them." Luan smirked, "Comes with the territory."

Lincoln stood stupidly, watching as the crew of women dressed as men climb riggings and weigh anchor. They were nearly a dozen yards from the dock by the time the marines showed up, shouting for the crew to halt and firing shots against the ship. Lincoln ducked, futilely it turned out, as most of the shots hit the water behind Our Fair Lady.

He'd been essentially shanghaied by pirates, tricked into a crew of almost entirely women, and shot at by Royal Marines within a few hours of reaching the port town. All he'd wanted was to sign up with a crew and enjoy some adventure; he was well on his way to fulfilling that wish, to be sure. Lord above, how his parents would fret and rage at his life choices today!

"It's been one heck of a first day." Lincoln muttered to himself.

"Just wait until we break port," Luan said, resting against the deck railing, "the open sea is filled with English and Spanish vessels, all wanting to sink this vessel."

"Say, do you always talk to yourself?" Lynn asked, nudging Lincoln, "It's a little weird."

"I… I have no idea what you're talking about." Lincoln avoided eye contact, then changed subject, "When do I start working?"

"Right now." Lori's voice broke the calm, as she neared, "I need you to run messages along the ship."

She stopped her approach, black boots clicking on the deck, smartly. She eyed Lincoln up and down, a wolfish grin tugging at her lips.

"You will be running." she assured him.

Lincoln gulped.

Threw in a Battlefield 1 reference at the end. Anyway, how's everyone liking it so far? Took a lot of creative liberties with this, probably enough to disgust half the fandom.