Mack left his apartment well after the sun had set. He had a way of sleeping profoundly late on his days off. However he had spared no expense of time getting ready for the week’s expeditions either. He had read and re-read the note Corny had given him and checked his suit for holes and pressure capability at least five times before leaving after all.
It was a lovely night, perfect for any activity short of storm chasing. Moonlight reflected off Mack’s helmet and bounced brightly through the transparent green plastic of his visor. Years of looking through such a visor had given Mack’s dark eyes adjustment enough to which he had no trouble reading through one at night, even with an eyepatch. He stole a glance at the paper in his claw hand.
"Dear Mack, If you’re up for some piratey fun, meet up with our crew of the SS Azure down in Brickport (walk along the west bank about two-hundred paces). Get there soon, Mack, or we’ll leave without you! (Before tomorrow morning anyway.) See you there! Your friend, Corny."
Why would there be a space ship at the port? Wouldn’t the metal hull rust from the wet sea air? Even if the ship were correctly coated for wet environments taking off in water would surely be a pain, though the cartoon villain in Mack saw the possibility of exploring an underwater launch base to be too cool not to check out.
He arrived at the port quickly, it wasn’t too far from his apartment. Sure enough the water was full of boats, many of them standard-issue 10210-1 sets crawling with robots. But something was amiss, were the robots all wearing clothes? They looked to be in old poofy dress-wear. Odd, but Mack blamed it on one of those wacky holidays that President Business guy always cooks up.
Mack started up the bank, it was eerie in the dark and quiet night, but not necessarily frightening. Sea water lapped at the rocky shoreline and glow from the moon revealed faint fog haunting the beach, broken intermittently with beams of light from the lighthouse perched atop a nearby cliff-face.
Shrouded in a thicker fog was an enormous watercraft, complete with gnarled sails, a crusty old hull, and a tattered flag sporting the ol’ Jolly Roger. Customized pieces on the side if the ship read “SS AZURE” clear as day in black marker. Mack did not notice anyone onboard, though a boarding ramp rested diagonally between the ground and the ship, allowing goods and people easy access to and from the main deck.
