AFRICUM MARE. ABOARD THE ENEMY QUINQUIREME.

He swung his shield in a short lethal arc at the man's face, disassembling it to the point where Gallus couldn't discern his country of origin.

Leaping over his victim, he brought his shield forward and waited for his men to fill in a battle line either side of him as they alighted from the corvus onto the enemy's deck. Not believing in any particular protocols, the pirates who were the subject of this visit didn't offer their uninvited guests the opportunity to fully form up, but instead attacked immediately.

His men met their charge, and in the ensuing melee, Tiberius Gallus had more time to study these men as he and his troop sent them on their way to Pluto and or Neptune. He had to find out where this quinquireme came from! As if reading his mind, Centurion Casca took an informal running census of each man he killed.

"That be a Thracian...Cretan...Sicilian...some kind-o-Greek pretty boy...Ah! Numidian!...'nother Numidian..."

Despite the seemingly even fight which presented itself in terms of the size of the ships and their respective crews, Roman training and discipline were beginning to take their toll. Gallus and his boarding party systematically cleared the deck of the enemy ship as they worked their way aft toward the stern. To their credit, this polyglot of races didn't break; they fought valiantly as they retreated in ever decreasing numbers.

That's when Gallus spied the man he had seen first during that desperate fight for his life during the Battle of Sinus Numidicus. This man, name unknown, who was obviously the commander of this endeavor, their so-called "Rex Piraticus."

"Take him!" Gallus ordered, gesturing with his gladius at the man. The battle for the last few square feet of deckspace still under enemy control resumed with renewed intensity and violence.

A sudden sharp pain in his left thigh brought Gallus up short. There protruding from his upper leg was a dagger, hurled by one of the defenders. It was embedded to the hilt. "Son of Dis!" Gallus growled, grabbing at the wound.

The blood flow was considerable. He had seen enough wounds to realize that he needed to do something to staunch the flow, or he'd soon be going into shock. Looking up, Gallus saw what appeared to be be a tree trunk moving behind the Rex Piraticus. Coming to his senses, he realized that it wasn't a tree, but the mast of a ship. The pennant flying from its top indicated that it wasn't Roman.

Pirates were beginning to throw themselves over the side in an attempt to escape onto the liburnae which was alongside. To his horror, Gallus realized that the Rex Piraticus was about to join them. "Casca!" he yelled, pointing with bloodsoaked finger to the figure atop the rail. In a fluid, rapid motion too swift for Gallus to clearly follow, the Centurion grabbed a pila from the hands of a nearby legionary and hurled it at the Rex Piraticus. His arms flailed in a faltering circular motion as he attempted to maintain his balance atop the rails of the ship, then he fell backward onto the deck of the quinquireme, clutching at the iron spearpoint emerging from his chest.

The enemy liburnae managed to escape, but not with their leader.

While his men bound the hands of prisoners and dispatched those too severly wounded to be useful slaves, Gallus hobbled over to the prone figure of the Rex Piraticus. While a physician tied a rag above his wound, Gallus leaned close to the dying man and asked, in Greek, "Who are you? What arrangement do you have with Jugurtha?"

The man, his lips flecked by a growing quantity of bright red foaming blood, merely smiled and spat a quantity of the frothy liquid into Gallus' face. Wiping the bloody spittle from his cheek with the back of his hand, Gallus pointed to him and gave an inquiring look to his physician, who said nothing, but shook his head. Sighing, Gallus rose to his feet and told Casca, "Crucify him. Get him nailed to the mast of this ship before he dies, and make sure his men see it."

Diverting his attention from the deck of the quinquireme for the first time since they had boarded, Gallus took in the sight of the seas around him. His liburnae which had taken those devastating hits early in the battle had capsized, her few survivors clinging to her now upturned hull. Scattered about him in various locations, nearly two dozen enemy ships now had Roman men-o-war alongside them, now flying Roman colors, their former crews dead, dying or captured.

"Gallus! Tiberius Gallus!" He turned to see Captain Andromachos calling to him from the stern of Hector. He waved back. "Aeneas is approaching, signalling that she intends to come alongside. I expect you and Marcus Porcius will want to have a little chat" he gestured to the ship below Gallus' feet, "about your surprise present you have for him..?"

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AFTERMATH. ABOARD THE QUINQUIREME AENEAS.

"...and he died about five minutes after we affixed him to the quinquireme's mast. That's about it, Marcus Porcius."

Marcus Porcius Cato glowered under his mop of flaming red hair. "But where in Hades did these quinquiremes come from?!"

"Quinquiremes, Marcus Porcius?"

"Yes, dammit, plural. One got away, along with three triremes and about twenty smaller ships."

"Still and all," interjected Andromachos, "we sank three of their ships, and captured twenty three others...including the Roman ships we temporarily loaned them at Sinus Numidicus!"

"Yes, there's that" admitted Cato. Then, gesturing to the captured quinquireme, "you say this is Egyptian make?"

"Most probably, Sir." replied Andromachos. "Made either in Alexandria or Cyprus. The Egyptians don't sell first class ships of the line to just anyone. My guess, Marcus Porcius, is that these ships were purchased directly with Numidian talents, not pirate treasure."

"You're probably right, Captain. Edepol!" Turning to the Praetor-Elect of Cisalpine Gaul, Cato continued. "Tiberius Gallus, looks like you've earned yourself another Corona Navalis. You too, Andromachos. Gallus, I can't legally keep a Praetor from his province; your term of service here is clearly at an end. You need to report what's happened here back to the Senate, and to Quintus Flaminius Vitulus, the new Propraetor for Africa." Cato said nothing further, but contiued to lock eyes with Gallus, as if expecting something.

"Marcus Porcius, I will do as you suggest. Might I in turn suggest, that since the enemy fleet was last seen fleeing directly east toward Chullu and our blockade fleet, that we begin pursuing them immediately?"

"'We,' Praetor?"

"Sir," Gallus responded smoothly, a grin curling across his face, "Chullu just happens to lie along my sailing route back to Rome!"

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OOC: The tally from the Battle of Igilgili is as follows:

Friendly Casualties: 53 Roman dead; 172 wounded. One liburnae sunk; 9 ships damaged (including Hector).

Pirate Casualties: 252 dead; 3 liburnae sunk.

780 pirates captured (412 wounded)

1 quinquireme, 3 triremes, 5 biremes and 14 liburnae captured.

103,730 Denarii in captured enemy goods (material and monetary)

FOLLOW-ON ORDERS:

The Quinquireme Hector remains behind to shepherd the captured enemy prize vessels back to Utica. Gallus boards the Trireme Aurora.

The Mare Nostra Fleet begins immediate pursuit of the fleeing enemy ships. Meanwile, those portions of the Sicilian Fleet reassigned to Africa following the conclusion of Agrippa's operation should by now have joined forces with the Blockade Fleet, patrolling off the coast of Chullu, Numidia.