Mordecai glared back at the row of inhuman faces. He kept still, but readied his grip on his blade. Glancing over at Natasha, he wasn't surprised to see that she only looked peeved. Well, my idiot captain, now what?
Natasha held out a hand to him. "Mordecai?" she said in bored tones. "Gun."
He looked at her incredulously. She met his stare when he didn't act immediately, then shook her open hand at him. Her request brooked no refusal. Uncertain, he drew his pistol and passed it over, barrel first. Natasha was unpredictable, vicious, and short-sighted. But surely even she wouldn't be so reckless as to fire into the beasts.
He was wrong.
Natasha gave him a disgusted look and twirled the flintlock around to grip it. The she took a smart step forward, pointed the barrel of the gun right between the eyes of the ape before them, and pulled the trigger.
Smoke erupted from the gun and the report echoed across the hilltop. The ape sagged and fell at their feet, face shattered by the weapon. For a moment everything was frozen. The pirates watched fearfully; Natasha stood with her arm outraised. The apes cringed back from the noise. Then the creatures spied the corpse of their fellow. As one they bellowed, eyes bulging. Those closest above flung themselves from the Copper Queen down at the hilltop, the others behind following suit.
The battle was joined. Mordecai and Natasha tried to hold their ground, swinging their blades and firing shot after shot from the pistols at their belts. Still, they fell back before the charge. For a moment Mordecai thought they were lost; clubbing fists and gaping jaws filled his vision. He felt a sudden, powerful loathing for his captain. Her recklessness had brought them to ruin.
Reaver Jane appeared, a long knife in each hand. She ducked past Mordecai's offhand side to jab her long knives into the face of an ape. His crew joined the fray as well, their cries barely heard over the roar of the jungle creatures.
Mordecai fought like he'd never fought before in his life. He thrust, ducked, and cut. He whirled right, hacking at a neck, slashing at a pair of eyes. Blood flew through the air. The howls of their enemy were deafening. But it wasn't enough. The beasts weighed at least half as much again as a man, and were hideously strong and savage. White-furred limbs crashed down at him, heedless of his blade and how much damage they might take. Mordecai was battered, beaten. Hoary talons tore at his side, his arms, his face. Their nightmare trek through the jungle was nothing compared to this.
Then something changed. The flow of the battle shifted, and the apes were less furious, less numerous. Mordecai sensed the chance for victory and threw himself at it, as a drowning man might grasp at a piece of driftwood just out of reach.
An ape before him reared up. It raised both arms, intending to clobber him into the ground. Mordecai ducked forward and to the side. He lashed out at the creature's inner thigh, felt his blade bite into the thick fur and muscle there. The ape screamed and hammered down as he darted away, blood spraying from a new wound. Mordecai regained his footing, then threw himself at his foe, turning now to face him. He brought his cutlass up and hacked with a two-handed blow at the face of the ape. It bit and the creature screamed.
The struggle ended. The ape before him backed away, clutching at the bleeding ruin of its face, trying to leave. Mordecai let it. Warily, he looked to the rest of the hilltop. The apes were fleeing, nursing wounds, or hooting in pain as they descending down into the tree line. Pirates stood dumbfounded, three-fourths as many as they had reached the hilltop with. The wounded and dying groaned from where they lay on the earth.
Natasha stood nearby. She was bruised and bloody, but alive. Putting one foot on the corpse of a foe, she raised her sword up high and yelled victoriously. Amazingly, the cry carried, the crew roaring after the retreating white apes.
Mordecai staggered over to her. "What," he gasped, "were you thinking?"
Natasha did not reply at first, or even look at him. She panted, calmed, and then wiped her blade on the fur of an ape. Only then did she look to her first mate. "I suppose I thought the noise would frighten them off. It appears I was wrong." She shrugged. "No matter."
Mordecai stared incredulously at her. "Look at us! We've just lost a quarter our number!"
Natasha raised an eye at him. "Then those that are still alive had better get aboard, unless they've grown fond of these jungles." She turned away from him and marched up to the Copper Queen.
Mordecai spat in frustration and turned back to the crew. The damage wasn't as bad as it seemed. Many nursed broken ribs, sprained limbs. They were battered, cut, and torn. But they would serve, and live to serve another day. Some eight of their number were dead or dying, necks broken or wounded beyond survival. Mordecai ran a tally. All in all, they were still within an acceptable number of losses.