The Way of Steam and Pirates

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

Chapter 1: Prologue

His mother always said that he had the eyes of the sea, with the sparkle to match the essence of the skies above. Perhaps it was that very desire for boundless adventure which ultimately drove him out of his family's house and down to the docks of their quaint port town, to trail on the tailcoats of sailors, fisherman, and the more unspeakable fellows, the pirates.

Perhaps from the very beginning there had been no hope of stopping him from the fate that had captivated his imagination. Perhaps his mother's words had been the fuel injected into his veins to give his life a reason and calling beyond the mediocrity of their stagnant household walls. Regardless of the specific catalyst, no matter how long the small boy spent at the coast, it did nothing to satiate his need to be out in the expansive blue. Nothing in the world could drive him away from the salt of the sea that brushed through his hair, or away from the illustrious sense of freedom that filled his lungs each time his eyes met the coast.

As sure as gravity it was inevitable, that eventually he would come to obtain a ship and crew and finally abandon the town that he'd called home for so long. The seas and the sky whispered to him to chase freedom, and with an iron will he met the challenge. Up into the sky he raised, a magnificent ship powered by steam, the wind, the wonder of an individual, and just a hint of the innocent naivety of childhood desire.

It was a childhood success story.

At least it was. For nothing ever really ends up as planned…

From deep beneath the ship deck of the Diesel, away from the hustle and bustle of crew members working to keep them afloat, Captain Keehl sat hunched over his heavy wooden desk situated against the large paned window pointing out the back of his ship, greeting the clouds as they meandered lazily by. On the tabletop of his desk a crudely drawn map of the world stared up at him, the parchment blotched and stained and showing the clear signs of the use and misuse it'd endured throughout the years. His light blue eyes scanned the picture representation he had all but memorized, the gears behind said orbs moved ten times faster than the ship itself ever could.

Mello was a young captain by the widely accepted standard stereotype of his kind, only nineteen and already in full command of his own vessel. The Diesel wasn't anything magnificent or in any means outrageous. It was merely a simple steam powered, turbine ship with the duo capability to travel through both the skies and the seas with ease without ever sacrificing on its speed as other older models had in the past. These were all qualities Mello knew that other pirate captains had already amassed for their own crafts, but it never mattered to him. The ship was his, and that was enough.

His thoughts took him away from the confines of this vessel however as he mulled over the question of where to take himself and his crew now. Where in the world could he take such a meagerly numbered crew to adventure for some form of treasure?

'Perhaps a takeover of a pedestrian or merchant ship might do perhaps,' He contemplated to himself. Any sort of simple skirmish that would result in them getting money off other ships was always an option to Mello, but at the same time any conscious skirmish he brought them into needed to be small and quick enough to cut out the potential chance of attracting the notice of countries below. Or worse, other pirates in the community.

He shuddered at the thought. Engaging in an air fight with another captain's ship because he'd done something out of his 'jurisdiction' was the absolute last thing he needed right now. He scoffed to himself, kicking his chair up onto the back two legs and balancing with his boots on the desk, staring at the wooden ceiling above. 'Whoever heard of pirates having rules and jurisdictions? What happened to the good ol' days where every ship watched out for themselves?' He thought to himself.

As he glanced back out the windows to the sky drifting away from him, in the back of his mind he knew exactly why there had been restrictions put into place in the first place.

The Rust.

An often terminal blood disease that had spread across the world like wildfire after the proliferation of steam technology took over the people of the world, and decimating nearly half of the world's population. It was an epidemic that seemed to affect people at random, causing their blood to settle within their veins, the result of which often looked, at first, like a rust corroding away the mechanisms of the body.

No one knew what caused it, how it spread, or where it had even come from. The only thing that ever really seemed sure what that the only people who were nearly entirely safe from the Rust were sky pirates.

The epidemic itself did nothing to sway people from the use of their own technology, for it was these mechanisms which had come to make their lives easier. But it did put a strain on the acquisition of goods from one place to another and assuring that they themselves stayed alive from one day to the next.

It subsequently created an even larger rupture between the lives of the wealthy and the poor classes than had ever existed before, but regardless everyone was still feeling the pressure to obtain even the barest of essentials. There existed barely enough supplies to go around to the people, let alone enough for pirates to hijack and steal from the people, regardless of their social class.

Thus, even the lowest castes of society had degraded down to the implementation of 'rules', 'jurisdictions' and 'restrictions', and the pirates were no exception to this. Eventually they too developed a set of unspoken rules, translated only between pirates, and regulated by their entire community.

A pirate and their crew were only to take from ships within your language speaking boundaries. Claiming territory to keep other pirates from hunting civilian ships within that area had been strictly forbidden. Those two rules were the only ones the Captain ever really bothered to remember. Despite the degraded state that humanity was in he retained the mindset that pirates should never allow themselves to be burdened with rules as though they were creating their own social levels and authority. It utterly defeated the point of being outlaws.

Sighing, his eyes drifted back down to the map as the original question arose back into his mind. Where would he go? Where was the best opportunity to find another air ship to take hostage and loot?

'Just let it come to you. The seas and skies are a vast playing field. If you go looking, you'll never find what you're looking for.' An old voice chimed in the dusted halls of his memories; they were words he'd been told years ago before they had ever really had any meaning to him. But since taking the wheel of the Diesel, such practical wisdom had never failed him before.

"Just wait for it, hm?" Mello said aloud, leaning his wooden chair even further back and shutting his eyes, allowing the pure breathing melody of his ship to overtake her senses.

His attentive ears knew exactly where to pick up every sound. Through the lack of the visual spectrum he could suddenly hear the movement of steam through the ship's organs, creating life through its iron veins and capillaries to keep everyone aboard securely aloft. Beneath his chair he could feel the soft vibrations of the wooden floor as the ship's spinning metal turbines on the side of its wooden outer body shivered in anticipation of his command. The Diesel made him feel utterly alive in a way nothing else had before. It gave his body a soul, it pumped his blood stream with a strength he'd never known, and gave him the determination to chase the horizon. It was the very mechanism which gave his heart a reason to beat, and the reason his blood continued to pump with such a carnal need.

Bang!

The door to his captain's quarters slammed open, bringing him up out of his daze and as his eyes opened he could feel the oneness he had with the ship slip back into remission. "What is it?" He asked, annoyance dripping from his words.

"Captain," The deep, familiar voice rang across the room. It was that of his first in command, and above all his partner in crime, Rod, who stood in the doorway utterly unfazed by the blonde's tone. "You're needed on the deck."

Mello's look moved from the window in front of him that pointed out onto the night sky finally over to Rod, taking in his shirtless form that clearly displayed his thick muscles that were dotted by scars from battles at sea. There was something lurking behind those small eyes, something that put Mello on end, "Ship spotted?"

Rod shook his head, "Not quite."

"Then what the hell is it this late at night?" Mello huffed, his own annoyance growing as he brought his chair back down on all fours with a loud thud as it hit the wooden floor. "I'm busy right now. I don't have time to be-"

"Believe me, it's important."

Mello watched him carefully, scrutinizing over every detail of the man he knew so well, searching him desperately for any clue as to what this was about. No sirens were going off, there was no fire let alone smoke so nothing was wrong with the ship, and surely if they had been boarded before they could make a getaway Rod would be a bit more animate about it then his current stoicism was letting on.

'What the hell…' He thought, but finally sighed and reached over his desk to grab the well-worn black tricorn hat off the surface, positioning it on his head before slipping his arms into his red coat that hung on the chair as he stood up, the motions all coming with practiced fluidity. "This had better be good."

He crossed the room, hardly bothering to offer his first mate even the quickest of glances as he slipped past him at the door, instead moving from the lit confines of his private quarters out into the darkness of the deck. He immediately froze. "What the hell is this?"

Just outside the doors of his room he found the deck of the ship to be filled with the members of his ship circled around the area, each and every one of them holding somber* or angry* expressions, Mello noted as his look moved over every one of his crew members.

His arms were suddenly grabbed from behind, his look whipping around finding Rod the source of the sudden immobilizing pressure, "Get the hell off of me! What the hell are you doing?!"

"You're done, Mello." Rod stated.

"Captain." The blonde spit.

"We're done following your orders and commands." He continued. "All of us joined you years ago because we wanted to actually be pirates. We wanted to take over ships, and to get rich. You told us that we were going to fight our way to the top, but all we ever do is coast through these skies like some merchant ship!"

Mello's look narrowed on him, then looking back to the rest of the men, "It's not that easy." His tone was low and deadly as his heart hammered away in his chest, searching for any sign in any of his men that they didn't want to do this. If Rod was going to mutiny him, there was no way that all of them wanted to go along with this. "It's not that simple anymore! There are rules-"

"Rules?" Rod spoke louder. "Rules are for the nobility and the common people. No, you obey those rules because you don't have what it takes to go out and take what you want for yourself!"

"So what are you going to do? Start fights with everyone in the world?" How idiotic, Mello thought spitefully. Sure, maybe Mello wasn't willing to go to that level to get to where he wanted. But there was a method to getting to the top, one which did not include making enemies with your own kind.

"If that's what it takes. You had your chance for ten years, Mello. It's about time you found yourself a new calling. You're still young, after all." Rod goaded him as his lips pulled back into a sick smile, beginning to move from his spot over to the side of the ship, dragging Mello along with him.

"Fuck you, Rod!" He practically shouted, fighting desperately against his tight hold, though in the back of his mind asking what he would possibly do even if he did get free? Grab the revolvers* holstered to his side? What would killing one or two crew members do when it was all of them against him?

His eyes shot through the groups of his crew members, desperately searching until finally his eyes caught sight of a flash of red hair. "Matt!" The weird, quiet tinkerer he assigned the job of watching for ships and handling the sails from the mast. Everything about the expression in his green eyes was that of regret. "Don't do this." He tried, speaking only to him.

Matt's green eyes moved over to Mello, meeting those blue orbs momentarily, his lips parting slightly, "I can't do anything, Captain."

A rush of fire shot through Mello's systems as he desperately fought against Rod's hold with new fervor just as they approached the railing to the side of the ship. "You fucking traitors!" He screamed against the cold night air. "You have no fucking chance out there against all of them! You are one damn ship against a world of outlaws!"

Rod chuckled loudly, "You see, Mello, that's where you're wrong. Why do you think everyone turned on you and is following me now? Because when I say I'll lead them to riches, I mean it and I deliver. We've already got our first contract."

'Contract?'

"So you're hired thugs now?" This was getting worse by the second. His men were turning on him to give up to become hired mercenaries? How deplorable. But still… he couldn't help wondering about this.

"It's none of your business." Rod told him, the sick smile remaining across his features as he forced Mello's body up off the deck, holding him precariously over the side of the ship.

The sight of blackness greeted Mello's eyes, the sheer imagination of how much space there was between their location and the ocean below running through his mind causing his heart to somehow race even faster beneath his ribs. "You can't do this! This is my ship! I brought all of you on board!" Again his eyes shot over to the side, "Are you just going to let them fucking do this to me, Matt?!"

"Nobody's going to help you, now. It's too late for you to save your own skin. You were never a very good captain anyway, Mello. Don't worry I'll take good care of the Diesel for you, though. Consider it my gift to you, in your memory."

The grip that had been holding Mello captive and the only thing keeping him aboard his own ship suddenly vanished.

The blonde's heart shot up into his throat and suddenly there was nothing left but the rush of air screaming through his ears and the absence of anything solid meeting his feet as he tumbled out of the sky; an angel who'd wanted for nothing but to see his dreams a reality amidst a world not designed for him suddenly falling from the only grace knowable by an outlaw.

A/N: For those who follow my Tumblr this piece will be very familiar, as I published it there last week. Since then I've gotten a good amount of feedback on it so I've decided to post it up here for people to read and comment on, and so that in the near future if I want to write this I'm not restricted to posting it just on there. So, anyway, welcome to the introduction of not only this story, but my first ever attempt at writing an AU! Hopefully you're as excited for this journey as I am! I'd love to hear any comments you have so far!

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-Forbiddensoul562