Jennifer "Sparrow" Lane

Jennifer waited towards the back of the females laying in wait just beneath the hatch leading to the main deck.

No sense being at the front of the group where I'm likely to be killed. She thinks.

Pulling a small hand mirror she snagged from one of the crew's cabin, she looks at herself. Grimacing, I really need a bath, I can barely see my freckles through all the filth, she admits to herself. Meeting her own jade green eyes in the mirror, she half smiles, then slips the mirror back into a pocket of the oversized trousers she had snagged while the rest of the girls were arming themselves and receiving basic instruction on how to use their flintlocks from Shanna. As for herself, she had a simple dagger tucked into her belt where she could reach it easily, a familiar weight, even if the blade was new to her.

Sudden motion near the ladder leading to the main deck draws her attention. Shanna nearly launches herself through the opening as her cutlass comes free of its scabbard. Being no stranger to , Jennifer has little trouble identifying the sound of steel cutting through flesh.

As if that was the rally cry for the girls, the other females rush for the ladder. Within seconds, the sounds of steel on steel, punctuated by the occasional sound of firearms discharging, lays the backdrop of the den of battle above.

Realizing that only herself, and a scared looking young woman, a nun if she had overheard correctly. remain below deck, Jennifer glances up the ladder.