Thrilled at his first command, a little brig sloop called Teazer, Thomas Kydd must race to bring his ship to battle readiness – he is desperately needed to defend Malta against Barbary corsairs, ferocious privateers and the French who are frantically trying to rescue the remnants of their army in the Levant.
But his jubilation does not last long - peace is suddenly declared and Kydd is left ashore on half pay.
A rare chance gives him the opportunity to once again go to sea. He sets sail as captain of a convict transport for the penal colony in New South Wales – and challenges that will test both his seamanship and humanity to the limit.
In many ways my seventh book, "Command", is a watershed in the Thomas Kydd series. My hero has actually achieved the majesty of his own quarterdeck, and his life will never be the same again. It may seem an improbable transformation of a young perruquier of Guildford, press ganged into His Majesty's Navy less than ten years before, but the historical record tells us that there were Thomas Kydds, not many admittedly, but enough to be tantalising to a writer's imagination. The great age of fighting sail was a time of huge contrasts and often harsh conditions, but at least in the Royal Navy then, it was conceivable for a young man of talent and ambition to rise far above his station. I do remember my feelings when I became an officer, having begun my sea career on the lower deck. And sometimes I idly wonder, had I lived back then, could I have been a Tom Kydd?