As she made her way above the lower decks, most of the men aboard the ship refused to make eye contact with her, a sort of curious avoidance in their gaze.  Some seemed surprised to have seen her upright at all, let alone without any signs of bruises or cuts.  Others seemed sympathetic, perhaps considering her brave for marching upstairs, into the jaws of the beast who held her life in his hand.<br/><br/>Breakfast aboard the ship seemed to consist of a thick slop, practically shovelled into troughs in the canteen.  The mush was almost like a paste, something resembling 'oatmeal' though from a glance the oats were probably old and stale to start with, and though Louie had more ingenuity than most sea-faring cooks, there was a limit to his abilities.  These were the leftovers from the previous voyage, and the captain had insisted that they be used up.  There were rumblings that he was as frugal as he was ruthless, but Louie had managed to make the slop palatable with the addition of some molasses.<br/><br/>Accessible from the deck of the ship, the captain's quarters were isolated from the rest of the ship's innards, which seemed to be a maze of interconnecting passages and stairwells.  Harrington's cabin, though, had only one entrance and exit, nestled under the aft deck.  A large door with colorful stained glass marked the entry, though there was a certain unwelcomeness about the ingress that seemed unspoken yet abundantly clear.  The few men on deck this early seemed to keep a wide berth about it, but Kat didn't have to worry as they did.  She had been invited -- perhaps<i>commanded -- </i>to make an appearance there.<br/><br/>The door stuck slightly, requiring her to put her weight into opening it -- a necessity with any kind of door or cupboard on a ship, so it wouldn't swing open and shut with each break of the waves on the bow.  Inside though, it was dimly lit, making entry from the bright deck a bit difficult -- a security mechanism no doubt; no one could burst in and shoot the captain if their eyes were still adjusting.  Still, it had an enjoyable aroma that was immediately evident as she stepped inside.  The wood outside the cabin had long been sun-bleached, any faint signatures of aroma washed out by the salt surf.  Below, the wood was fresher but overwhelmed by tar and gunpowder.  But in here?  The rich, unmistakable, warm aroma of mahogany, and a hint of waxed teak.  Fresh linen.  Spiced rum.  Leatherbound parchment tomes.  A plainly masculine culmination of olfactory delights seemed to be absorbed into her skin as she closed the door.<br/><br/>She heard the captain's voice long before she could see him, the stars still dancing in front of her eyes as she transitioned from such a bright space to a dark one.  "Ahh, good.  You're an early riser," he quipped from deeper in the room.  As her sight began to clear, she'd be able to appreciate the well-appointed cabin.  There was a large bed, an unusual luxury for a sea-faring vessel.  A large armoire appeared filled with well-pressed uniforms, and a stocked liquor cabinet, as well as a large circular table with multiple chairs around it for meetings.  Vance sat behind a large writing desk, updating logs and studying charts.  When she found him, able to focus in the dark space, he gestured for her to come over to the desk.<br/><br/>"I'm not sure we've yet been properly introduced," he said, looking up from his papers, extending a hand to shake hers cordially.  "Vance Harrington.  You should probably only address me as Captain, or Captain Harrington around the men."  He returned his attention to the books.  "In private, you may call me Vance, but you shouldn't make a habit of it.  Wouldn't want to slip up publicly."<br/><br/>"And what may I call you?  And your sister?" he inquired.  "I'll likely refer to you both as 'girl' publicly just the same, but I should like to have a name for both of your faces."<br/><br/>Upon her response, he slipped closed his book an folded the chart he was studying, standing and moving from behind the desk, coming to the front and leaning against it, keeping a hushed tone.  "So, between you and I, how confident are you in your promise yesterday?  To work twice as hard as any of the men?  They'll need to see you working like a dog, but they've been at sea all of their lives.  They are hardened to this work.  It will be hard to impress them."