Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die:

[all7seas]

Who: noprevaricating, hippocraticly, lists_to_port
What: Two Eighteenth-century Sailors and the Tractor That Didn't Love Them. And McCoy, covering his eyes.
When: Day 1 of the Draft; after this.
Where: A farm near the battlefield, and its surrounds.
Summary: Jack and Archie have decided to tend to matters of war, in spite of difficulties caused by shifting irregularities.
Rating: Jim Varney wearing John Goodman's trousers and Jed Clampett's hat.



The first thing Jack Sparrow noticed after being transported to the battlefield with the rest was what amounted to excruciating pain in his right arm.

His sword arm.

It dangled from his shoulder, badly broken and useless. And pink.

On his knees in a pile of dusty straw, Jack inspected the damage, and found it very bad indeed; he found he could not feel the fingers on his right hand at all. Clutching the useless limb to his chest, he looked about. "KENNEDY! BONES!" Where were they in this chaos?

...

And why was he COMPLETELY PINK?

Comments

[all7seas]

The pirate glared at the younger man, removing the knife just long enough to make a point. "If you don't do it now, son, I'll do it myself."

[simplestgift]

Fine. If Jack was going to be an idiot, he'd let him. So Archie knelt by the older man and lifted the arm carefully, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. Yes, the arm was broken in at least two places. His eyes closed briefly as he tried to gather himself. He'd seen this done before, and done it once in the field with a simpler fracture. So after the briefest of pauses, he simply hoped for the best and did it.

1/?

[all7seas]

Mmmmmmph!

[all7seas]

[all7seas]

Bugger Bugger BUGGER BUGGER bugger...

/keywords

[all7seas]

"Right. Bind it. Quick-like." The corner of Jack's mouth bled slightly; his breathing was rapid, shallow. And there were the sounds of approaching enemies not far away.

[simplestgift]

Kennedy was already on it, using a knife to shred a canvas tarp into a sling. He placed the injured arm gently across Jack's chest and took both ends of the sling in his hands. "Sit up," he said in a no-nonsense tone.

[all7seas]

Jack did as directed. While Kennedy worked, his mind trod the rather rocky path of What Next. "How many would you say were out there, Kennedy?"

[simplestgift]

Kennedy basically had to hug Jack to tie the sling around him, and at such close quarters, Jack would be able to feel the lieutenant's hands shaking. The trickiest part was working around the black wings. "I reckon I counted seven or eight pairs of wings out there." He moved behind Jack now that the canvas was wrapped around him, trying to work out how to circumvent the wings. Going under them would provide the least amount of pressure, so under it was, and he tied the knot behind the pirate's shoulder. "We could hold them off in here better than in the open. They can't come in but one at a time. If we're quick enough, we can cut them down at the door. Only trouble is there's no way out except the door they'd be coming in."

[all7seas]

The pirate grunted as Kennedy tied his knot, but there was some relief once the sling was in place. Ordinarily he would make some remark about the closeness but this was not the time nor place. He got to his feet, drawing his pistol in his left hand. Jack wasn't left-handed but he was capable enough to fight with it at need. The arm throbbed. "Then we might hold out for some time---but not forever, Kennedy. Not forever."

[simplestgift]

Kennedy ground his teeth a little--one of those bad nervous habits. "What I wouldn't give for a few muskets. We could stand on the roof and pick them off at our leisure." He rose to his feet and drew his sword. "We could also do a quick hit-and-run. As far as I know, they didn't see us go in. We could ambush them, take down a couple, then retreat."

[all7seas]

"Good ideas all, lad," Jack said approvingly. He peered closer at the sailor. "You're a rather effete shade of blue, you know."

[simplestgift]

Archie glanced down at one hand. "You're a rather vivacious shade of pink." It was a lame enough comeback--in the 18th century, Archie's purply-blue color would have been considered the more effeminate. "What's to be our course of action, Captain?"

[all7seas]

The pirate began to pace slowly, tapping the pistol's barrel against his shoulder. "You're a fair shot, I'm a fair shot; you're decent with a sword, I'm exceptionally good but handicapped by this damned arm. We've more blades here than we could ever use, unless we build some sort of trap..." He glanced at the strange bulky object at the back of the building. "What's that?"

[simplestgift]

Kennedy turned, following Jack's gaze to the large object covered in a tarp. Without answering, he walked back in several long strides and yanked the tarp off to reveal... Something. "I've no idea."

[all7seas]

"Mother Carey's chickens..." Sparrow murmured. He stood beside Archie, staring wide-eyed at what would appear to more practiced eyes to be a 1944 McCormick-Deering Farmall-H tractor, rusted to the gills and looking as though it was lying low after committing some sort of agriculturally-related tractor crime. It was Bonnie and Clyde's Death Car and Mister Green Jeans's ex-lover and a solution to their problem, all rolled into one. "She's beautiful, Kennedy..."

[simplestgift]

"She's inexplicable, Sparrow. What does she do?"

[all7seas]

"Why, she's a beautiful and fierce war machine, is what she is." The pirate was already lovingly running his uninjured hand over the flaking grill, which resembled nothing so much as the grin of a retired prize fighter. His eyes shone. "Look here, Kennedy---if we could get her mechanism ticking again, we might stand more of a chance against those bastards."

[simplestgift]

Kennedy looked very, very wary. "Jack, I have trouble putting in a lightbulb." He still examined the machine, peering at the hard, cracked, peeling vinyl of the seat cushion, then at the ignition. A key was still in it, rusted and fragile-looking. Without thinking, he reached for it. "Is that a key?"

[all7seas]

The two men knew nothing about how to bring a sunken tractor back from the depths. There was no death god to make a pact with, no one to promise a soul to. No way of knowing that the fuel might need to be changed, or the spark plugs, or the drained battery. All they had going for them was, perhaps, Jack Sparrow's beatific good luck. "Aye, lad. A key." Even with one arm out of commission, Jack was able to climb the side of the metal monster and perch atop the hood of the machine. He patted her, the way one might encourage a tired horse. "I'm havin' a thought, Kennedy. If we arm her up with a few of those saw-toothed slicers, make her more scarier and fierceish, we could ride her to certain victory." He nodded toward the many flesh-stripping tools arrayed around the room.

[simplestgift]

"Certain victory. Sounds as good as any plan we've had." The key wouldn't come out. Archie tried twisting. The machine made an absolutely atrocious sound and roared to life for an instant before Kennedy, startled out of his wits, jumped a mile and stumbled backward, stepping in a bucket and hitting the floor. The engine stopped again.

[all7seas]

A huge grin split Sparrow's face. "She's a rare beastie, and no mistake! Quick, lad! Step to, lively, like! Out of your bucket! We've no time to lose!" Nimbly he leapt down from the hood of the machine and hurried to the wall, picking out the ugliest of the tools. Returning to the tractor, he began jamming them into the grill like wicked teeth.

[simplestgift]

That was an awful enough noise that it may have attracted attention. Archie managed to stand up, somehow. He tried to shake the bucket loose, took a few cacophonous steps, shook it again, then finally snatched it off with a frustrated sound. Assuming Jack knew something about what he was doing, he followed the pirate's example, weighing the knives in his hands before selecting them and grinning without realizing it.

[all7seas]

The Farmall was turning into quite the snaggletoothed contraption. Sparrow was aware, though, that the backfiring might have attracted attention. They probably didn't have a GREAT deal of time to make this work. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then stepped back to examine their handywork. "Beastie's lookin' fine to me, Kennedy! Let's sail her! You're at the helm, savvy? Find that key thing, from before!" Jack clambered on top of the tractor, kneeling on the hood. He would prefer to drive, of course, but it seemed more sensible for Archie to take on that role while his arm was laid up like this.

[simplestgift]

Archie was grinning like a maniac now, and he had no idea why. Leaping into the seat, he took a deep breath and eyed down all the levers and controls. This was probably the simplest thing in the world after a ship, he was sure. The key did something, so he tried that. The engine roared to life. Okay. This lever...no. NONONONONONO! He pushed that lever into its original position, one foot shooting out and accidentally hitting...something. He'd have to remember that later. All right. "Give me a moment."