O'Hara frowned and turned back to the fishmonger, tossing a copper piece his way and hefting a large fish up from the table. When she found Travis she was going to smack him upside the head. Hadn't he learned not to run off by now?

O'Hara rolled her eyes. "This has got to stop happening, Travis. Especially once we get back on board. I can't have you running off at every stop. You know better."

O'Hara shook her head. "I suppose I should know by now that you'll never learn," she smiled, clapping Travis on the shoulder. "It's all right, no harm done this time. But you're on mess duty tonight until we find a cook," she grinned. "Come on, let's head back to the Shadow. We can hunt for a crew in the morning."

* * * * *

As O'Hara lay in bed that night, she let her nerves be comforted by the soft rolling of the sea beneath them. The dockhand had earned his pay well; the Shadow had been in perfect condition when they'd returned. The trouble was going to begin in the morning, though--they'd have to be gone all day, not just for a few hours. First they needed a cook to begin outfitting their new crew--Travis was passable, but they couldn't go weeks eating like that. It had been two years since she'd had to build a crew from scratch, and she definitely wasn't looking forward to it. It was hard enough to find a hand or two she could trust, nonetheless an entire shipload of them. But this kind of thinking would get her nowhere. O'Hara rolled over and pulled the blanket over her shoulder, closing her eyes and praying for sleep.

* * * * *

O'Hara slipped on a gold bracelet and ran her fingers through her hair one more time. First impressions were the key to impressing a possible deckhand, and she needed to look her best--and most authoritative--to capture their attention. She stood and walked through to the next room, banging on the wall and startling Travis awake. "Still asleep?" she laughed. "I know it's earlier than planned, but I want to make sure we get a good start today. Up! We're out on land in ten minutes."

"Hmm," O'Hara mused in response, scanning the dock for possible candidates. "I'm not sure. I suppose we should just take a look around and go from there." They descended the ladder, and O'Hara slipped five silver pieces to the dock worker. "There's more where that came from if you do well," she told him.

The dock boy looked up at her with a grin, and O'Hara could practically see the gold in his eyes. "Aye, Captain!" he said, giving her a salute. O'Hara just laughed. "Come on, Travis," she said. "Let's go."

O'Hara frowned as she walked into the dimly lit tavern. The clientele were a bit more seedy than she would want to comprise her crew, but they really needed to get out of the harbor, and quickly. It was worth spending an hour or so here and hoping someone would come in.

"Two mugs of cider, please," she said, sliding three copper pieces across the bar. Hopefully Travis' instincts would prove correct and this visit would be fruitful.

O'Hara shook her head. "Men like that are everywhere in a place like this. If he approaches us, perhaps. Until then..."