Summer Waverly’s observant. She’s so quiet that most people pass her by with no notice whatsoever. There isn’t a single crew member of the Cosmos that isn’t under her watchful eagle-eye. It’s not that any of this information is useful to her—quite the opposite, really. Who honestly cares about Phil’s chip-stealing middle-of-the-night-binges, or Peter’s habit of wearing his underwear for a week straight? This isn’t the reason she surveys the area like a sentry; it’s because at any moment of any day she might be the target of the whip.
This particular whip has personality. Its leather, smooth and aged, sings with glee as it cracks through the air with a thwack right before it slices into the depths of her skin and rips the very essence of her soul. It’s unnatural how it knows exactly where to attack next. There isn’t an inch of unscarred skin on her back. This is why she watches. But there is one thing that can stop the whip’s excited leather from breaking her. Silence.
Summer hasn’t spoken a single word in almost eleven years. As she slaves away on the Cosmos, she scrutinizes the free men working diligently. Jealousy consumed her once, but after all these years of slavery she’s given up on freedom. It’s just not in the cards for her. So she watches them and gains knowledge by eavesdropping on their conversations. Now it’s all about survival on the rough seas as the pirates attack and pillage one ship at a time.