Roy lay sprawled on a makeshift cot in the bridge, buried beneath mismatched blankets, finally able to breathe after days filled with tentacled doom-squids, demon-bird attacks, and endless patchwork repairs. Serenity was battle-ready again—depth charges loaded, hull plating freshly patched—and Roy, eyes fluttering shut, decided he deserved one damned quiet night.
The gentle hum of the ship lulled him off, blissfully unaware of the ragtag pirate crew that stumbled upon the looming battleship in the dead of night, mistaking it for an easy score.
The pirates opened fire, their cannonballs bouncing off Serenity's hull like popcorn off armor plating. Grappling hooks sailed across, only to be quietly snipped away by mechanical arms that emerged from the battleship's side panels. The pirates cursed, screamed threats, and fired volleys into the iron walls—all while Serenity silently maneuvered, dodging collisions by mere inches.
Throughout it all, Serenity took careful notes: "Pirate 2 fell off rigging—again," and "Pirate captain is demanding surrender. Suggested response: none." She handled the skirmish like a seasoned nanny ignoring a toddler's tantrum.
At sunrise, Roy stirred awake to the faint clanging outside, groggy and annoyed. "Serenity, what the hell's banging around out there? More tentacles?"
Eryndra appeared in the doorway, bleary-eyed. "Feels like someone's knocking on the hull."
"Good morning, Captain," Serenity chimed politely. "We've been under pirate siege all night."
"Wait—pirates? Like, actual pirates?" Roy bolted upright, squinting out a thick glass window at a tiny ship barely afloat beside them.
"Yes," Serenity explained calmly. "Cannons, grappling hooks, threats to pry open our 'iron coffin'—the usual."
Eryndra grinned incredulously. "We seriously slept through a whole pirate raid?"
Roy rubbed his face, laughing softly. "Serenity, you could've woken me."
"You needed rest," Serenity replied simply.
Roy sighed, pulling on his boots and jacket. Outside, a bedraggled crew desperately reloaded cannons, still oblivious to their hopelessness.
"Should we scare them off?" Eryndra asked, folding her arms. "I could handle it."
Roy nodded, grabbing the loudspeaker. "Hey! You idiots can stop firing anytime. You're not even scratching our paint."
A bearded pirate waved his cutlass defiantly. "Surrender your booty, iron beast!"
Two more grappling hooks clattered onto the deck, instantly snipped loose by the presidroids. Roy shook his head, grinning.
"They're admirably persistent," Serenity commented dryly.
On deck, Roy was greeted by a lineup of Presidroids—Washington, Lincoln, Eisenhower, Wilson—each standing impassively, thoroughly unamused by the pirates' slapstick siege.
"Enjoying the circus?" Roy asked them.
Washington offered a stiff salute. Lincoln pointed casually toward the pirates, silently suggesting Roy handle it.
Roy sighed, raising the bullhorn again. "Seriously, guys. This is embarrassing. Just leave."
"The Redhand Reavers never retreat!" shouted the pirate captain, his voice breaking awkwardly.
"Serenity, warning shot, please," Roy sighed.
A gentle thump came from Serenity's side turret, sending a shell exploding harmlessly behind the pirate ship. Pirates stumbled, screamed, and finally—mercifully—began turning their sails for retreat.
Roy watched them limp away, shaking his head. "You really let that drag out all night, Serenity?"
"I didn't want to disturb your rest unless absolutely necessary," she replied.
Roy chuckled, exasperated. "Next time, at least wake me up for the comedy."
"Acknowledged."
Eryndra leaned against the railing, smirking. "Think they learned their lesson?"
Roy stretched, yawning broadly. "Probably not. But at least we got pre-breakfast entertainment."
She rolled her eyes, smiling. "You slept through most of it."
Roy shrugged, heading below deck. "Exactly. That's why it's funny."