Sea Travel and Other Signs of Company:
(Arthur Smith POV)
Captain Arthur Smith was a man of complexity and resourcefulness, shaped by years at sea and the company of influential minds. Yet, even among the extraordinary figures of the age, his old friend and mentor, Benjamin Franklin, remained unparalleled in wit, intellect, and charm. By Smith's side was young Temple Franklin, Benjamin's grandson, eagerly assisting them in their latest endeavor—a voyage of immense consequence.
Arthur found the company of Franklin both comforting and challenging, for it brought equal measures of wisdom and irreverence. Their interactions often left him grappling with Franklin's boundless optimism and audacious schemes. For instance, as they sailed aboard the Mars Hope, Smith could scarcely suppress his disbelief at their mission: ferrying one of the foremost architects of revolution across the Atlantic into the dangerous waters of diplomacy and war.
"Well, Doctor Franklin," Arthur began as he pored over a copy of the newly published Declaration of Independence, a document he was also translating into French for their diplomatic mission. "I must admit, I'm still baffled by your trust in me to see you safely across the Atlantic. Especially when I've made my objections to this voyage abundantly clear."
Franklin, unperturbed, glanced up from the almanac he had been leafing through. "True," he replied with a wry smile. "But I believe you'll find that an armed marine escort suits the role of a plenipotentiary of our wondrous union rather well."
"That's precisely the issue," Arthur countered, leaning forward. "The British won't see this as a diplomatic vessel. To them, it's a warship, and we're all participants in the rebellion. We'll be hunted the moment we set sail."
Franklin chuckled, the sound was rich with mischief. "The Mars Hope is a fast ship, Captain. And why worry? Once we reach French waters, I have no doubt you'll find yourself quite welcome—not only in my company but also in the good graces of the French Crown."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the old man's unflappable demeanor. "I find myself serving at the pleasure of Congress, Doctor. Not acting as a pirate of the French crown?"
"And yet Congress has entrusted me with authority," Franklin said, his eyes twinkling, "to act as their representative until new orders arrive. Consider it a temporary arrangement, Captain."
Smith smirked. "Temporary. I've heard that before. What exactly are you planning, my old friend?"
Franklin leaned back in his chair, his expression suddenly serious, yet no less determined. "I am planning to win the confidence of the French Crown, Captain. To secure arms, alliance, and funds from them so that we may win this war for independence."
Arthur studied the older man for a moment. Despite Franklin's outward levity, there was steel in his voice, an unshakable resolve.
"Well then, Doctor Franklin," Arthur said finally, his grin returning, "let's see how fast the Mars Hope can fly. I wouldn't want to keep the King of France waiting."
Temple Franklin, seated nearby with a stack of papers, glanced up and grinned at the exchange. It seemed to him that his grandfather had once again cast his unrelenting spell, drawing men to his cause with a combination of brilliance, charm, and purpose.
"Dr. Franklin… wait." Arthur paused, narrowing his eyes as suspicion crept into his voice. "I was under the impression we would be meeting with Captain Jones for this… future endeavor of yours."
Franklin, ever unruffled, closed the book he had been reading and gave Arthur a knowing smile. "We will indeed meet him. Captain Jones has already arrived in France ahead of us. He's securing another warship and recruiting men to our cause. Both of you are crucial to what lies ahead."
Arthur folded his arms and leaned against the ship's railing, studying the older man. "To what end?"
Franklin's smile widened, the glint of mischief unmistakable. "A raid on England."
Arthur froze, then blinked, waiting for some clarification or a sign that Franklin was joking. None came. "A raid… on England?" His voice rose with incredulity. "Are you mad?"
Franklin's calm expression did little to assuage Arthur's rising temper. "Battling the Royal Navy off the coast of America is one thing. It's dangerous but feasible. But what the hell makes you think we can raid the British Isles? Their navy patrols those waters like hawks!"
Franklin tilted his head slightly, his serene demeanor unchanged. "That's precisely what makes it worth doing."
Arthur gaped at him, struggling to form a coherent response. They were only a month, perhaps two, from France, and yet somehow, Franklin was already hatching plans that bordered on suicide. He rubbed his temples, trying to process the sheer audacity of it all. "What… are you planning?"
Franklin gave a small chuckle, clearly anticipating Arthur's reaction. "If we are to win the confidence of the French Crown, we must show them that this war can be won—not just defended but taken to the enemy. If General Washington cannot deliver decisive victories in New York, and General Halbert cannot succeed and in saving the struggling expedition in Canada, then we must find another way to make our cause profitable in the eyes of the French."
Arthur's voice dropped to a growl as he leaned closer. "Then send me to the Caribbean. Let me raid the sugar islands. That's where the wealth is, where we can truly hurt the British economy. But an assault on their home soil? That's madness!"
Franklin held up a hand, his expression softening. "All in good time, Arthur. This is not a plan we undertake lightly, nor without preparation. But think of what it would mean—to strike at the heart of Britain, to show the French that we are bold enough to challenge the lion in its own den."
Arthur took a step back, his mind racing. The implications of such a raid were staggering. It was reckless and dangerous, and yet… if it worked, the psychological impact alone could tilt the scales of diplomacy. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You haven't even worked out the specifics yet, have you?"
Franklin shrugged, his grin returning. "Details are for military minds like Captain Jones and yourself. My task is to ensure that when the time comes, the world knows that the Mars Hope and her crew dared to dream big."
Arthur muttered a curse under his breath. "Dream big, he says… You'll have me writing my epitaph before we even dock in France."
Franklin patted him on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Don't fret, my dear friend. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that fortune favors the bold. Now, let's make haste. The future waits for no man."
Arthur smith than took a breath… Seems he needed to think… truly think about what would happen now.
And if he could survive it.
No he would survive it… he had to.
AN: Or Ben Franklin is leveraging his two captains, Jones and Smith, into something that would make the mad lad that is jones look sane.
Raid the British isles.
Also, I have played ultimate Admerial age of sail... and I did some insane shit, like capture three huge second rates during the british campaign with my tiny ass frigate fleet by using wolf pack methods.
Take out one ship, then move to the other, always having two ships versus one.
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