Winslow shoved Fetch away before going on the attack, lunging at the golden retriever with his drawn blade.

Fetch countered each of the collie’s swipes and slashes with ease, his sword hand doing all the work while he brought his other up to his mouth to cover a mocking yawn.

The second-in-command snarled in frustration before slashing his sword down, his attack fuelled by anger.

Fetch leapt out of the way of the blade, letting pass beneath his feet harmlessly, before landing on the stairway rail to the deck, sliding down it with a laugh full of joy.

Winslow followed after the pirate captain, determined to cut the retriever down.

Foof reached out to his second-in-command but was too late to stop him. Panic and dread getting the best of him, the pompous poodle quickly scurried towards the starboard stairway, making his way down to the deck, keeping as far out of the fight as possible, before heading the doorway to the captain’s quarters, and locking himself inside.

Fetch and Winslow continued their duel, striking and blocking at each other with practiced finesse.

The pirate captain started to gain the advantage, forcing Winslow to defend himself from the retriever’s relentless attack. Suddenly, a pair of pit bulls came to the second-in-command’s aid, joining the collie in his bout and turning the tide against Fetch.

Though outnumbered, Fetch’s smirk remained on his face as he fought off his adversaries. He backed away from the oncoming cutlasses when his back hit the rope rigging of the main mast. An idea popped into his head at the same time Winslow and his men swung their blades at the pirate dog all at once.

Fetch blocked all three swords with his own, struggling to keep the razor-sharp edges from cutting into his fur. With a mighty heave, Fetch pushed the three navy dogs away before grabbing one of the rigging ropes and cutting it free.

The retriever flew high into the air, Winslow and his men watching him shoot upward with bewilderment. As Fetch continued to sail higher, the main sail came crashing down, smothering Winslow and the rest of the navy dogs in the thick, heavy cloth.

The retriever swung around the entity of the ship, observing the fight from above and watching his crew subdue the navy hounds at a rapid pace. Soon, the pirates had conquered the ship, rounding up the sailors and either binding them in rope or keeping them held and gun and sword point.

The captain whirled around the main mast, sliding down the rope until his boots landed on the deck. A thankful smile graced his face when he saw Checkers, Rosa, Benny, and Eli coming his way.

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“Good work, everyone!” The retriever stated, proud of his crew for another well-done raid.

“The ship is ours, Captain.” The first mate Dalmatian declared with a salute. “All enemies have been beaten and subdued.”

“They didn’t put up much of a fight,” Rosa smirked, sheathing her blade and crossing her arms. “I barely got to use my blade.”

“Yeah! They went down easy after I socked ‘em one!” Benny barked chivalry, flexing his arm to emphasise his strength.

“Almost feels like they wanted us to take that map of theirs.” Eli pointed out, placing his pistol against his shoulder.

“Well, then. Let's take it off their hands, shall we?” Fetch chuckled, his grin growing to show the pure white canines of his teeth.

±

Foof groaned with agonised effort as he pushed his luxury leather settee towards his cabin door.

The panicking poodle had already propped his cupboard, desk, and other heavy furniture he could use to block off the pirates from getting in. Feeling that he had successfully secured himself, food wiped the sweat from his brow, a smile of relief crossing his face, when a jolly rhythm knocked at his door.

“Permission to enter your quarters, captain?” Fetch spoke to the poodle from the other side of the blockade.

“N-N-N-Never!” Foof floundered on his words with fear, propping himself against the barricade of furniture. “You filthy mongrels won’t set a single foot in here!”

“That’s alright. We’ll let ourselves in.” Foof could hear the smirk in the pirate captain’s voice but couldn’t understand why he sounded so smug.

Suddenly, a faint hissing noise could be heard on the other side of the blocked. Doors. The poodle lifted his ear to try and get a better idea of whatever the sound was.

And if the navy captain had to guess, it sounded an awful lot like…a burning fuse!

KABOOM

The doors burst open from a fiery explosion, sending the poodle and his belongings blocking the entrance were blown across the room. The furniture was turned into raining splinters and burnt fabric, while Foof flew over his desk and landed perfectly safe in his lounge chair. The petrified poodle’s fur was covered in black soot, coughing up plumes of smoke as Fetch and his crew made their way inside.

The retriever took in the interior of the navy captain’s dwelling, noticing how rich and extravagant it was. Fine silk curtains adorned the windows, a plethora of pillows piled up on his outrageously oversized bed, and of course, a portrait of the pompous poodle himself, looking off into the distance with an air of smug pride. A far cry from the quivering canine huddled in his chair behind his polished oak desk.

One of Fetch’s crew approached the captain to his side. He was short, skinny chihuahua with brown fur and large sharp pointed ears, wearing a thick belt strapped around his left shoulder, where a plethora of gunpowder bombs, big enough to hold in one’s paw. The chihuahua had a slightly crazed look in his eye, while he had a small flicker of fire at the end of one of his whiskers.

“Good work, Petardo.” Fetch patted the pirate bomber on his shoulder. “Another blast well done.”

“Ey, no problemo, capitán!” Petardo, the explosive chihuahua, chuckled deviously while taking a few bombs off his strap. “You know how much I love to make things go ‘kaboom’, eh?”

“Yes, well…” Fetch licked the ends of his fingers before pinching the fire on Petardo’s whiskers out. “Let’s put the explosives away for now, shall we?”

“Si, capitán…” The chihuahua sulked, putting his bombs way with a slump of his shoulders.

“Now, then…Captain Foof, I presume?” Fetch made his way over to the poodle’s desk, where the navy dog captain was still quivering in his chair. “I believe you have something of great interest to me and my crew, here.”

At the sight of the pack of fierce pirate dogs surrounding him, Foof could do nothing but swallow the lump in his throat and give an innocent chuckle.