The truth is, I’m not a particularly skilled captain. Navigation is foreign to me, I have no gift for politics. So what am I good at? This is going to sound absurd, but I make the men feel better about themselves. See, every man here has served under a captain who uses violence to achieve an end. To terrorize, to advertise. When the men see that, they can spot the lie. They know that their captain is, in some part of his soul, sickened by his own actions. And the lie infects everyone who sees it. But with me, when the men see me slaughter the crew of the Good Fortune, when they see me cut out a man’s tongue from his mouth for lying, when they see me burn a boy alive in front of his father’s eyes, they know, they can see it in my eyes…there’s no lie there. There’s no seed of remorse there. I simply don’t have it in me.