[inspired by this fucked-up historical flag i saw on amazon]
autumn 1779. a scottish naval officer for the newly-christened united states sails a british ship into a colonial dutch port. having narrowly escaped his own sinking vessel, he now faces a wave of slander: “pirate!” “privateer!” “outlaw on the seas!”
of course, they had a point. he was piloting a captured warship, after all, and the mast that once proudly flew the white ensign was now bare; he was all but indistinguishable from a low pillager. but a pirate he is not. he is an American, a real red-blooded patriot—and an ensign of his very own would show it. so to holland he heads.
[continued after the break]