The captain is a woman

"Hey Alex, going to the uhm bathroom?"

Edward's voice halted Alexander in her tracks, causing her to pivot slowly and face him. Ryker and Adams flanked him, their expressions twisted with malice.

Alexander knew their intentions all too well; every day, they lay in wait for her on her journey to the bathroom.

"Don't you guys ever get tired?" She sighed, her voice dripping with boredom as she carelessly dropped the basin she held onto the floor.

Edward chuckled, taking a step closer. "You're the one making things complicated. Prove you've got balls, and we'll leave you be."

Those words sent a dark fury flashing through Alexander's eyes. There was no escaping this; revealing her true identity would only lead to her demise.

Without warning, Edward threw the first punch, but Alexander swiftly dodged and retaliated, her fist connecting with his nose, producing a sickening crack. He stumbled back, gasping for air.

"Let's finish this swiftly, shall we?" The sound of her knuckles cracking reverberated through the dimly lit corridors.

Enraged, the trio lunged at her, but a voice from the speaker ahead froze them in their tracks, as if struck by lightning.

"Five seconds," the voice echoed, before abruptly falling silent.

Without needing further instruction, the three men spun around and sprinted down the hallway, leaving Alexander standing there alone.

With her basin in hand, she embarked on her journey to the bathroom, seizing the opportune moment while the others had been called away. Of course, the directive applied to her as well, but being the rebellious black sheep named Alexander, she paid no heed to anyone's commands. Trouble seemed to gravitate towards her like a magnet, and not a single day went by without her enduring punishment. However, the intriguing twist was that she was also the most skilled and capable individual on the entire ship.

Her true identity as a woman remained concealed from everyone, although suspicions lingered in the air. Numerous attempts had been made to expose her, to strip away her facade, but they all failed miserably. There was not a single man on the ship who could surpass her, except for Ismael.

As she set down the basin, preparing to undress, a sudden sense of movement halted her in her tracks. "Who's there?" she called out, swiftly turning around, only to find emptiness in the surroundings.

Perhaps she had been mistaken. After all, it seemed impossible for anyone to be lurking around at this hour. Unless, of course, you were the most skilled individual on the ship, disobedience could cost you your life.

Resuming her task of unbuttoning her clothes, a solid object collided with her head, causing her to slump into the arms of her captor, unconsciousness enveloping her.

The masked figure gazed upon the sleeping form in their grasp, whispering, "Target secured."

The entire crew of the mael ship assembled in an open field, clad in somber black attire and sturdy boots, arranged according to their ranks.

A solitary man stood before the gathered crowd, his face etched with bitterness. "It is with a heavy heart that I deliver this news to you," he announced, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Lord Ismael and his entire family have tragically perished in a plane crash."

The once serene assembly exploded into pandemonium, a cacophony of cries, whispers, and stoic silences. Amidst the uproar, a man's voice pierced through, demanding attention from all.

"What implications does this hold for us?" he bellowed, his words echoing in the chaos.

"Who shall guide us now?"

Caden's laughter cut through the air, a chilling sound that hinted at treachery. "As Lord Ismael's elder brother, do you doubt my ability to navigate this ship?"

"This was rightfully mine from the start..."

The men exchanged disapproving glances, but none dared to challenge him.

But before Caden could revel in his delusions of grandeur, Lucas strode in, flanked by a group of men who held a captive figure. Caden's eyes widened in shock as he recognized his own flesh and blood, his little brother. How dare he try to spoil his triumph?

"And what do you think you're playing at?" Caden demanded, his voice dripping with authority.

Lucas smiled wickedly, knowing he held the upper hand this time. "I bring with me Lord Ismael's testament." He brandished a pristine white document, waving it around for all to see.

Caden felt a surge of threat, but he concealed his fear. "Why don't you enlighten us about its contents?"

"No need to rush, I had every intention of doing so," Lucas replied smugly.

He turned to face the crowd, his voice resonating with confidence. "This paper bears the words that, in the direst of circumstances, if the ship is left without an heir, the position shall be bestowed upon Lord Ismael's last son, Alexander."

Gasps of astonishment rippled through the crowd, but none matched the sheer disbelief etched across Caden's face.

"Last son?" he repeated, his voice trembling with disbelief.

With a flick of his wrist, Lucas raised the black bag from Alexander's head, revealing her bewildered and helpless state. Caden's frown deepened upon seeing the alleged troublemaker, questioning the legitimacy of his claim as Ismael's son. "Do you honestly expect me to believe this fabrication?" he scoffed, his skepticism evident.

Lucas, however, wore a sly smirk, prepared to counter Caden's doubts. He smoothly produced another document, flipping it open to reveal a DNA test. "A test to prove..." he began, but before he could finish, Caden's shock nearly caused him to lose his balance. Men rushed to his aid, preventing further embarrassment.

As Lucas turned the paper, Caden's eyes fell upon a familiar handwriting - Ismael's. "And Ismael's letter," Lucas concluded, his voice dripping with triumph.

"This test was conducted a decade ago," he announced, turning to address the crowd. "The letter was written at the same time. When Lord Ismael received the test results, he wept and proclaimed that all hope was not lost, as if he could foresee his own future."

Alexander stared at Lucas as if he were an alien spewing nonsensical garbage. It didn't quite make sense, yet somehow it did. Ten years ago, she had been forcibly separated from her mother and thrown into the clutches of the mafia. Despite her countless mistakes, her life was never in danger, nor was she ever cast aside. This was where the rumors of her being a woman stemmed from - the special treatment she received, leading others to suspect she had a secret relationship with Ismael, who knew she was his own flesh and blood.

"I shan't burden you with the tedious utterances of Lord Ismael," Lucas interjected, his voice resolute. "Yet, I must inform you all that the very essence of his noble lineage courses through the veins of this youngling, rendering him the sole worthy soul to navigate this ship."

With a graceful descent, Lucas knelt before Alexander, his hand tenderly resting upon his heart, and the legion of soldiers behind him mirrored the gesture. Initially hesitant, Caden succumbed to the weight of their inquisitive gazes, ultimately yielding to the collective sentiment.

"All hail Captain Alexander," they proclaimed, their voices echoing with reverence.