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Centurion · (12-14-2025)

“I’m officially worried.”

Nellie Cortinovis has no idea what to think now that she is sitting inside a small restaurant and bar at the Neergard Marina in Skjoldungen, Greenland. She has a glass of wine in front of her - all be it a cheap wine, thanks to the locale she is in. Next to her sits Erin, who is still bundled up from the winter cold outside.

“Now you’re worried?!” Erin says in an exasperated voice. “You weren’t worried when we were taking a helicopter over the glaciers?”

“That doesn’t bother me.” Nellie says as she waves off Erin’s concerns. “We go to all sorts of places that are on the tips of the world, so I figured this was a either a training trip, a business trip, or the location of some fucked up winter themed Anarchy. But in any of those scenarios, there wouldn’t be a situation where Dad would park us somewhere and just say “sit here.” And never before have I felt compelled to actually…do it.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, it’s not like we’re in any danger here.” Erin says as she looks around the restaurant, which is completely empty, save for the two of them and the most Danish man you’ve ever met standing behind the bar. Erin gives a polite nod to the bartender, who lifts his hand up and yells “Hjllo!”

“I’m not afraid of the people.” Nellie responds casually. “I’m afraid of falling in a crack and having to saw off my arm like that…fucking James Franco movie.”

“You know that was based on a true story?” Erin says, her voice becoming slightly horrified as she thinks about the events of 127 Hours. “I saw an interview with him. He had to like, cut through his nerve endings with a rusty blade.” Erin cringes as she rubs her arm. “I think I’d rather jam the knife into my neck.”

Before Nellie can respond to Erin’s graphic thoughts, the door to the restaurant flies open, and in runs Ruby with an excited expression on her face. “Guys…come check this out!”

Ruby gestures for the girls to follow her outside. Nellie downs the rest of her wine before she and Erin run out of the restaurant. They get a few steps onto the marina boardwalk before Nellie stops on her tracks. “Ho. Lee. Fuck.” Nellie stares straight out into the ocean and sees an incredible sight.

Sitting just off a dock is an old battleship. The ship is black - or at least it was at one point, until much of a rust started to take over. There are some large guns sticking out the side of the ship, but the presence of two large smoke stacks in between what appears to be two sail masts shows how old and crude this particular vessel is.

Out from the bridge of the ship steps Centurion, who is wearing a full blue, button up Navy uniform, though the national markings all appear to be taken off. He is wearing a flat top brimmed cap, like something you would see from a Calvary man in the Civil War, and he stands up straight, saluting Nellie, all while having the biggest smile on his face.

“…eh?!” Centurion gestures around the ship as Nellie and Erin board it. Nellie is careful not to touch anything as the ship looks mostly dirty on top of being rusty and out of date. While Erin and Nellie’s concerns are etched on their faces, Ruby is beaming with joy as she runs around the deck of the ship.

“EH?!” Nellie yells back at Centurion. “What do you mean “eh”?! Where did you get this hunk of junk!”

“First of all, I don’t appreciate your tone while in the presence of such a masterpiece.” Centurion responds sternly. “Secondly, this is a Habsburg Class battleship. 375 feet long, 8,364 metric tons of steel, a cruising speed of 20 knots, armed with three 24 cm Lange 40 artillery weapons and six 47mm Skoda machine guns. Simply put, this thing was built for war.”

“…what war?” Nellie says as she cocks her head to the side, not buying anything Centurion has said.

“Does that matter?!” Centurion is quick to respond. “We’re facing a dude who’s probably going to be coming at us in a rowboat. HIS plan is going to be to board the ship. MY plan is to blow him out of the fucking water before he gets a chance…”

“What’s this flag?” Erin asks, interrupting Centurion as she rubs some dirt off of an emblem that is bolted on to one of the deck’s handrails. Nellie’s eyes arch as she walks over to what Erin is rubbing before immediately turning back to her father.

“It’s the flag of the Austro-Hungarian Empire!” Nellie yells out. “You bought a World Wad One era battleship! From a country that no longer exists!”

“You know, there are some days when I hate that you got an education. Ok, yeah, sure.” Centurion nods in resignation. “I bought it from a private equity broker from Austria. It’s been out of commission for quite a while. But look, it still operates!”

“Is it even legal to own one of these things?!” An exasperated Nellie.

“Well, I don’t think Austria-Hungary is in any position to arrest me.” Centurion jokes back. “Besides, we’re making improvements. I already hired a team to clean this thing and put in a fresh coat of paint. Check this out.”

Centurion reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small penny whistle. He blows it with the “Captain’s Call” tone, and the sound of shoes stomping on metal can instantly be heard. From all corners of the boat comes various men. It’s clear from the start that there is something odd about this crew - the outfits they are wearing aren’t traditional navy uniforms, but rather something you’d probably see in a Spirit Halloween or something. They aren’t wearing pants, but rather shorts - QUITE short - and brightly colored ascots. They all gallivant their way over to Centurion and stop before the crew, giving goofy, half-assed salutes when they get there.

“Check it out!” Centurion says, his face beaming with joy. “I have my own crew!”

“Yeah…can I talk to you alone for a second?” Nellie points her thumb over her shoulder, which causes Centurion to follow her. They only get a few steps away from the crew before Nellie slaps Centurion in the back of his head. “Have you completely lost your mind?!”

“What the hell?!” Centurion yells as he grabs his head. “I needed a crew, and these guys were more than willing to step up!”

“Oh, I’m sure they were super eager!” Nellie yells back. “These guys are gayer than I am!”

“That’s judgmental and bigoted and I will not stand for it.” Centurion says in a stern tone. “That has nothing to do with the fact that these gentlemen are established veterans of the high seas. And how could you even tell, anyway?! What, because of their uniform? They’re issued that!”

“Issued, huh?” Nellie says as she puts her hand on her hip. “Just out of curiosity, where do you hire this crew?”

“Oh, it’s great. They’re freelancers!” Centurion says as he recalls how he went about hiring his mercenaries. “Ruby apparently learned about them during her time as a crime fighter. They’re part of an organization called EESC. The Eastern European Seaman Club…….oohhhhh.” The realization hits Centurion in the face as he closes his eyes and turns away from Nellie. “Yeah, I should have looked into that a little harder.”

“Yeah. Yeah you should have.” Nellie says as she shakes her head. “On the plus side, I think you’re still going to be alright. I don’t know what kind of armaments The Director is planning on bringing to this, but there’s no way he’s going to come with a fucking battleship. As long as all the holes in the bottom of the ship are plugged up.”

“Oh, with this crew, I don’t think we’ll have any problems plugging holes.” Centurion says cheekily as he turns and walks towards the hand rail on the deck of the ship. Nellie follows behind as Centurion sighs, looking into the water. “Do you remember when this business was about wrestling? I mean, I know we’ve had weird shit happen in the past, but things were usually settled with hand to hand combat in some capacity. We didn’t have to buy giant ships and hire crews in order to win matches.”

“Didn’t you sink a cruise ship to win a match once?” Nellie asks as she reaches into her pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

Centurion laughs as he remembers the main event from Zero Tolerance 2007. “Heh. Yeah. Though technically the goal wasn’t to sink the vessel. The goal was to just escape it. The sinking happened as a result of the other stuff we were doing.” Nellie hands a cigarette over to Centurion and lights it. Centurion takes a drag as he leans against the rail, a slight squeak emanating from the bolts that hold the rail in place. “My guess is the folks putting this together were expecting us all to show up with wood ships and dress like pirates, and I wanted to do something different. Then again, I don’t know who the fuck The Director even is, so it’s possible he shows up in a fucking space ship or some shit.”

“You joke…” Nellie says as she nods her head back and forth. “But I do think he is some sort of futuristic cowboy or something.”

“Really?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Nellie snaps back. “I would have done more research on them if I wasn’t flown 12 hours in a puddle jumper to the coldest place on earth so my father can buy a World War I warship off a government that died 120 years ago!”

“Right.” Centurion nods as he raises the cigarette back to his lips. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

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