Hudson struggled to contain his anger as he stormed towards the captain's quarters and kicked the door open. Gilda was tending to the fire with a poker. He looked unsurprised to find Hudson angrily bursting into his private space.

“You're down here quicker than I thought.”

“Shut up." Hudson blasted. "How could ye do that to Serk?”

Gilda continued to stroke the flames with the poker. “I had no choice but to lay down the law.”

“That’s not laying down the law. Ye murdered one of our own in cold blood.”

“Watch yer tone Mr. Hudson. I don’t appreciate ye coming in here with this attitude.”

“Have ye gone completely mad? Serk had a drink in him. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.”

“Nonsense.” Gilda laughed. “Ye said it yourself, most of the crew have lost respect for me. We'd have a mutiny on our hands if I let Serk get away with his outburst.”

“I'd say we already have a mutiny on our hands."

"Relax, it's not like Serk's death even matters."

"Of course, it matters." Hudson shot back. "It matters to me and to those men out there."

"Then ye weren't paying attention to Raven when he sat in this very room earlier. We are on the verge of finding the greatest treasure Lozaro has ever known. It’s the only thing that matters right now, not the death of some jumped up Remman.”

Hudson could feel bile burning the back of his throat. "I know what that treasure represents but my only priority right now is your removal. The men want you gone, and I intend to make it happen.

"They'll fall into line again if we really want them to. Make them fear for their lives and they'll be at my beck and call once more."

"Maybe so, but I won't.”

"Is that so?"

Gilda rushed across the cabin. He was almost on top of Hudson, but the first mate was too quick, releasing both pistols from the holster he had on each hip. Gilda screeched to a halt.

"One more step and I'll blow ye away."

“Put them down.”

“No, captain. I’m taking over this vessel and Viper’s Fist. Step down or we settle this the old-fashioned way."

Although he wanted Gilda's reign at an end, the old-fashioned way was unthinkable for Hudson. One pistol, one bullet and a single survivor left at the end. Roulette was how power grabs were handled in Viper's Fist. The idea had been drawn up by Gilda and although Hudson had been sceptical, he convinced the other mercs to vote in favour of the motion at a meeting. Now, he hoped Gilda would do the decent thing and step down. They could then drop him off in Jandalgine to begin a new life.

“I can't believe how this is going down." Gilda remarked, pacing up and down the cabin with his hands behind his back. "Do you really think yer the man for the job? Look at ye, fifty-three and so out of shape ye can barely get through a mission. There’s ten years between us but most wouldn’t even notice.”

Hudson knew his nervous chuckle likely revealed his own insecurities. Gilda simply smirked and then continued to prod the uneasy first mate.

“Ye got about four good years in you Mr. Hudson. After that, ye’ll be in the same position as me, leading a crew with short memories; each one out to stick a knife in yer back.”

“I don't th.....”

Gilda silenced Hudson by thrusting a pointed finger at his chest. “Are ye really gonna force me out? I brought ye into this group and made ye the man ye are today, and this is how ye repay me."

“This is your doing.” Hudson said through gritted teeth. “Ye led me to this course of action by murdering one of our own.”

“He had it coming.”

“Just like you do now.” Hudson growled, pushing Gilda out of his personal space. “Now, are ye gonna step down gracefully or are we going for the nuclear option?”

Gilda pushed Hudson back. “If you think I’m letting ye take control of my ship without a fight, then ye’ve got another thing coming."

“So, ye’ll put both our lives at risk rather than give up your command?”

“Why should I give up my command. I'm in my prime.” He retrieved a revolver from under his mattress. “It’s roulette for the right to captain the Rad Veteran. Just like we agreed six months ago at that meeting.”

Hudson gulped as the light from the fire caught the revolver. "Ye can’t win here. Even if ye survive, the crew will kill ye anyway.”

"Then I'll see ye in hell.”

Hudson's march to the top deck was mostly spent in a trance. The captain's decision to contest his command was unexpected. There was a chance he could die rather than walk away. Then again, perhaps, this was another example of the questionable decision making that had led them both to this moment.

"What's happening, sir?"

Bry's question barely registered when Hudson emerged on the top deck. Most of the crew seemed to have sobered up, probably due to the violent murder of a valued team member right in front of them. They were cleaning up the bloody mess left behind by Gilda's brutal actions.

"Sir, are you OK?"

Hudson ignored the question and turned to Bry. "Can you and Squeak do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Go down below and bring a table and two chairs up."

Bry narrowed his eyes as he scratched his hairy chin. "What's going on?"

"Just do it, will ye?"

"He's contesting the decision, isn't he?" Bry shouted, alerting the other mercs to the dire situation at hand.

Hudson urged for calm, but his efforts were in vain because Gilda waltzed right into the centre of the drama and demanded they back off. His presence and attitude immediately provoked a barrage of abuse from the outraged crew.

"Traitor." Bry spat.

"Just get the chair and tables." Gilda ordered.

Bry turned to Hudson. "Anything else you need."

"Two glasses and a bottle of our strongest whisky." Hudson glared at Gilda as he spoke.

Bry and Squeak took two trips to deliver the items on Hudson's list but once everything was in place, the crew agreed to let him speak.

“As you might have guessed, Captain Gilda has contested the decision to remove him as captain."

More abuse before Gilda took over the conversation.

"Mr. Hudson and I will settle this in the way we all agreed six months ago – with a game of roulette.”

Fury once again erupted from the crew, but this time Hudson was too busy to calm them down. He could not stop imagining the horrors that lay ahead for either himself or Gilda. Someone was going to get a bullet in their head, and it could be either one of them.

“Are ye ready to do this?” Gilda snarled.

Hudson nodded.

“Then take a seat.”

Hudson got comfortable as the mercs gathered around the table. There was a quiet expectation about them, an electrical charge in the air that Hudson hoped would somehow bring him luck. It was obvious that most of them wanted him to win, but whether he could pull it off was another matter.

"Nervous?" Gilda asked with a wicked grin.

Hudson shakily poured a whisky, stared at the glass for a moment and then drank it down in one go. "Not at all."

“Pour me one.” Gilda said as he opened the barrel of the revolver to reveal a single bullet.

Hudson nodded and then poured another two whiskeys. Meanwhile, Gilda rotated the barrel and then tossed a coin to see who would go first. Hudson won the toss.

"You're up." said Hudson, hoping the duel would be over after the first pull of the trigger.

The other mercs watched with wide eyes, their mouths agape as Gilda lifted the gun from the table and pressed it against his forehead. Hudson leaned forward, desperately hoping for a shot to ring out, but there was only silence after Gilda took his turn.

"Lucky me." Gilda grinned as he placed the gun back on the table with a steady hand. Then he picked up the glass of whisky and threw the contents down his gullet.

Hudson gulped hard. "My turn."

“Anytime ye like.” Gilda said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Unnerved at the captain's confidence, Hudson took his time lifting the gun. The cold metal made him shiver as it touched his skin, but he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

Still breathing.

The outpouring of relief came with a wry smile flashed in the direction of the other mercs, all of whom looked mesmerised by the deadly game being played out in front of them.

“Only four bullets left.” Gilda snorted.

“Then get on with it.” Hudson replied, suddenly feeling better about his chances.

Gilda chuckled and then pressed the gun hard against his forehead. There was barely a pause until he fired the third shot. Hudson's newfound confidence evaporated the moment he realised the gun had not gone off, leaving him staring at death once again.

“I'm still alive.” Gilda said, pushing it across the table.

Mouth dry, and hands trembling, Hudson lifted the gun to his temple. It felt even heavier than before. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger but only heard cheers from the audience of mercs, hugging each other by the side of the table.

“Lucky.” Gilda snapped.

Hudson said nothing but he knew everything rested on the next bullet. If the gun went off, he would be leading Viper’s Fist into a glorious new dawn. But, if the trigger pull was met with silence, the final bullet was destined for himself.

“No more room to manoeuvre.” Gilda said in a voice that was just a whisper.

For the first time since the duel began, Hudson could see fear in Gilda's eyes as he lifted the gun and took aim. There was no quick pull of the trigger this time, no arrogant remarks or even a sign of the serenity the captain had shown up to that point. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, and he repeatedly cleared his throat like it had become a bad habit.

"Death or glory awaits."

Gilda pulled the trigger.

Silence.

"Arrrggghhhhhh!" Gilda cried out, a clear release of tension.

No gunshot?

Why?

No shot because the gun didn't go off.

The final bullet is mine.

No!

There was a tingling in Hudson's chest and a sour taste in his mouth as the crushing development overwhelmed him. His first thought was to run, but such an action would be unbecoming of a Fist. Anyway, he was stuck on the Rad Veteran with the sea acting as a barrier in every direction. There was no choice but to end his own life. It would be his last act as first mate.

"I... I don't know what to say." Hudson mumbled at the mercs.

There was no response, but Hudson could see the look of sadness and disappointment. Each one stood with slouched shoulders, barely making eye contact with him. Bry placed a comforting hand on his shoulder but Hudson gently pushed it away. He steeled himself and then nodded in the merc's direction. Not much of a reaction but enough to let Bry know he had to be brave. They both did.

“Take your time, old friend.” Gilda said, pushing the gun across the table.

Still numb with shock, Hudson pushed the gun against his forehead while remembering the good times he had shared with the crew. There had been many wonderful moments over the years, and although death was staring Hudson in the face, he would not have swapped those adventures for the chance to live another day.

"I have nothing to say, except...."

"What's that?"

The crew scarpered from their standing positions beside the table. It took Hudson a few moments to realise why the sudden panic, but the shadows looming over the ship told their own story.

“STINGTROSS ATTACK.”

The cry from Squeak broke the eerie calm, but there was no time to react before the creature with the massive wingspan and elongated beak was on top of them. Giant talons gripped Captain Gilda as he stood up and then lifted him into the air. His screams became less audible as the monstrous bird flew away with him.

"There's more." someone cried out.

Still glued to his seat, Hudson looked up to the gloomy sky. There were another two Stingtross circling above, clearly hoping for the same size of meal their friend had secured with Captain Gilda. One divebombed but Hudson threw himself from the seat at the last minute, and the creature crashed through the table.

"Shoot that thing." Bry said, releasing his weapon and firing alongside the other mercs.

As the bullets tore through its hairless flesh, the Stingtross flapped on the deck and squealed in agony. Blood seeped from its bullet-riddled body and then it lay still for good. Hudson got to his feet, revolver still in hand, but the third and final Stingtross came to attack the other mercs. It swooped at them in the hope of picking someone up, but Hudson was prepared this time. He took aim with the revolver and fired the single bullet straight through its head. The Stingtross spun across the deck, and then toppled over the side. Hudson rushed across and saw it sink beneath the waves in a flurry of blood and bubbles.

The crew whooped and hollered but Hudson was too emotionally drained to join them in celebration. Had fate not intervened in the form of a Stingtross, his body would be dumped into the sea by now. He sank to his knees and dropped the revolver on the deck, struggling to juggle the conflicting emotions of happiness and guilt. He was grateful to be alive, but the manner of Gilda's demise ate away at him like a scavenger picking a dead animal apart.

"I warned him those things were attacking ships closer to land, but he wouldn't listen." Hudson managed to mumble.

"Who cares?" Bry said, helping him to his feet. "You're the captain now. That's all that matters."

"I guess I am."

Bry turned to the others with his hands in the air. "Three cheers for the new captain."

As the excited mercs delivered their welcome, Hudson tried to regain his composure and forget about Gilda's untimely end. The crew needed a leader now more than ever, especially if the Fists were to be successful in securing the Domdan Treasure.