The streets of coastal Bombay being crowded that morning would usually be considered a blessing to Lyle Farrows. 

However, the thing about having a lot of people around in the same area at once is that it can really go either way. Usually, most con-men would prefer the crowd to allow them to slip away for an easy exit when caught by the law. However, this benefit can be twisted fairly easily depending on the crowd itself. 

For example, say that the con-man who was running through the streets after being caught had been pretending to be a British soldier after stealing a fake badge. Having carried on this ruse for 3 months, he pretended he was a valiant hero named John Smithson; dutiful to the British Empire and its ideals all while faking a British accent that while at first was pretty pathetic, was soon able to convince the majority of the soldiers stationed there. And say that he had wielded his power against the merchants by the Bombay coast rather liberally, demanding discounts and free goods for quote “protecting them”, before spending the paycheck from his fake job by sleeping at hotels that were generally considered to be less-than-favourable for a man to go to. 

In this case, the con-man had started to be chased by not only British officers, but Indian merchants who, in reality, had no idea why he was being chased but just liked that they had a reason to beat up the blonde shithead. 

Farrows could hear and feel the crowd aggravate behind him, the yells and shouts as two groups, who were historically at odds with each other, joined in unity for the sole purpose of beating him up. Or maybe kill him, it was rather unclear which one it was. 

Anyway, it would’ve almost made him proud if he cared enough. 

“Get back here John!” one of the soldiers shouted from the crowd. “You god-forsaken bastard!”

Farrows was relieved that at least the fake name would make it hard for them to find him for a while.

For a while…hopefully. 

It wasn’t long before his legs started to tire, and he noticed the port wasn’t as long as he had hoped it would be. His eyes darted around the dock, praying for anything that could save him from a life in prison. 

The Bombay prisons were not forgiving, especially to ex-fake-English soldiers whose reputation had fallen out of favour with both the Indians and the British. 

It was too hot to think, and the only thing his body could do was move forward. He realised it wouldn’t be long before he would be cornered at the edge of the docks. He could already hear the excitement building up, the unsheathing of weapons and the ever-growing sounds of rampant footsteps.

At this point, his only option would be to swim all the way back to America somehow. 

His feet skidded across the wooden floor, almost making him trip over himself. 

The edge of the docks was right in front of him. 

The sea was ready to claim him. 

The mob would reach him in only half-seconds.

But just then, he found her.

A brunette with a red headband over her forehead in a blue dress. What appeared to be a sheathed weapon on her far side. A scar on her jawline. 

His saviour.

Or, more precisely, his scape-goat.

“The Piratess!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. His left arm stretched out beside him and he pointed right at the woman. “It’s her! The pirate with the 10 000 gold coin bounty!” 

The mob’s focus quickly shifted, and much to his luck, his final comment caught the attention of the merchants as well. Even those who weren’t in hot pursuit of Farrows looked towards her with curiousity.

Noticing the similarities in appearance as Farrows had, it wasn’t long before they all quickly rushed towards the woman, not taking a moment to even consider it being a trick.

For most of the men there, between capturing a penniless con man or an infamous pirate woman who had eluded authorities for years, with one of the highest bounties in Britain, it wasn't even a choice.

The woman looked back at the crowd, stunned. It might not have even been the infamous piratess but it wasn’t like Farrows really cared anyway.  

For a split second, he caught the woman's dark brown eyes turning to look at who had pointed at her and took his chance to immediately slip back into the now-even larger crowd.

He whistled at the weapons so quickly drawn towards her and wiped the sweat off his brow.

Relief flooded his body like a drug.

Well, that was close. 

He grabbed a guava from the unmanned stall beside him and bit into it unapologetically. He walked away, before he took a quick look back at the mob, who were now arguing intensely over who deserved the bounty. He chuckled to himself before shoving his free hand into his pocket.

Not my problem.

The drama eventually did die down, not before there was an intense struggle between a merchant and the head British officer. Apparently, the head soldier had been so flustered by the discovery of Farrows as a fake soldier earlier that day, he had no weapons, and thus ended up in a hand-to-hand brawl with an aggressive yet dedicated Indian merchant.

It was a fight over glory or greed. 

However, much to the surprise of the onlookers, the two men were subdued by none other than the piratess herself. They were quickly incapacitated with a few punches and strikes from the bottom hilt of her cutlass.

With her high-heeled boot pressed sharply against the officer’s helmet, her eyes switched from person to person, filled with unimaginable fury. Her red headband shined brightly under the sun, with a gold pirate skull logo etched onto it.

“I am not the Piratess!” she roared. She pulled out her large, jagged blade in front of them, swiping it in the air. “And if you dare even think about pressing this idiotic bounty paper to my face again..." her eyes narrowed further, now glazing over everyone in front of her.

"I will gut you.”

The threat was taken seriously, but next to nobody believed her attempt at deception. Regardless, the crowds began to thin out soon after. 

Many backed away, including a few of the soldiers, who had decided to trudge back to their stations. They muttered to themselves about how the bounty technically required them to drag her all the way back to Britain and in Bombay she wasn’t under too much jurisdiction anyway. The excitement quickly curdled into apathy.

“Unbelievable…” she muttered to herself as she sheathed her weapon. 

She turned to her right. “Come on, Soba.”

A tall Japanese man, who had almost blended into his surroundings for the duration of the fight, stepped out cautiously. He smoothed out the creases in his kimono and took a moment to stare down at the men lying on the ground unconscious.

“You always get that one moron who yells out something and everyone follows him,” the piratess tutted in annoyance as she began walking through the streets. Her hands moved around expressively as she talked. “Oh gods I hope we don’t run into that idiot again.”

“I think we might,” her companion deadpanned. “He looked like he was being chased out of here.”

“Chased? Well, it’s a shame he didn’t get caught,” she bit out darkly.

“He was right though,” he continued as he followed behind her. “You are the Piratess. Disowning that fact won’t help you in any way. Taking down the head soldier of the Bombay port is quite a feat, almost no one would dare to challenge you in other similar small towns or villages.”

She sighed and scratched the back of her neck. “Eh…eh…I-I suppose. It’s just easier to try and disguise myself. That way people aren't crowding me all the time.”

“Easier, yes, but has it ever worked?” Soba gestured to her outfit, mainly towards the skull on her red headband.

She blushed, feeling humiliated. Her fingers pulled out the cloth from her forehead. 

“This is technically not a disguise and…I didn’t think it through too much,” she grumbled lowly. 

“It’s getting quite difficult to hide yourself now,” Soba continued. “Maybe you should just accept your reputation as a ruthless and infamous pirate.”

She sighed in frustration. 

“I missed the days when you didn’t talk as much, Soba,” the piratess muttered. “You never say anything I want to hear nowadays.”

Soba shrugged coolly. “I can’t let you get away with too much."

He took a moment to think on what she said and tilted his head slightly. "But...what would you want to be known as besides a terrifying pirate? You've never made that clear."

At this the piratess grinned triumphantly, as if she's been waiting for years to say it. She grabbed a scarf from a nearby street shop and wrapped it around her neck, almost like a cape. 

“Piratess Sela of the sea,” Sela proclaimed proudly, her fist in the air. She spun with an elegant twirl of her dress. “A gentle soul who steals from the rich and gives to the poor! Her words of wisdom will guide humanity’s future.”

“A gentle soul…” Soba almost smiled a little. He continued walking onwards. “Your legacy will be an interesting read, for sure.”

Sela furrowed her eyebrows at him, picking up the sarcasm. Returning the scarf to the terrified store clerk, she continued marching forward, more hurriedly this time.

“Let’s just get the dumb ship parts already.”

As the head guard attempted to gather his troops to look for ‘John Smithson’ once again, the con-man had disappeared without a trace. Following the chaos, he had adorned a long hooded black cloak and crept out to the docks near the ships. Much to Farrow’s surprise, it seemed as though the woman he had accused earlier really was the piratess, as ‘The Golden Skull’ was parked just a bit ways off the port in a discreet location. Behind a grassy and tree-bedded hill, a sharp-eyed man could just barely see the small yellow glint of the golden skull at the head of the ship. 

Farrows had heard tales of the Golden Skull numerous times, especially of the captain herself. 

A female pirate was a strange concept, one that many who lived on the mainland couldn’t even conceive of. She had only been active for a few years, but she was already a myth or legend who probably didn’t exist to most people. 

There wasn’t much else known about her besides her gender and ship. It was said that her crew wasn’t nearly as interesting as the woman herself. 

More importantly to Farrows, he was well aware of how successful the Golden Skull was in its exploits and search for treasure. They weren’t unstoppable, but they produced results. Treasure chests by the hundreds, stolen treasures by the thousands, it was difficult to not notice a glimmering opportunity. 

And with the piratess most likely in the hands of the British officers…wouldn’t it be the perfect time to sneak in for a reasonable amount of gold to help him get home?