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Requested by:
Gib
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An hour to pass with nothing to actually do was a familiar, if rare, kind of hell to sit through. Unless you were up for cryo-napping your way through every time, long trips between world and job sites meant plenty of dead time to kill. Reading books, or reports, running financials, sorting through whatever junk they were hauling in- There were plenty of ways to pass her time on her old rigs, back in the black with her crew. Or, well, the rest of her crew, since Spark had been marooned right along with her.
But here, on her brand new ship out on the high seas?
She had… Less to do.
Inventory was always her first go to for times like these but, aside from a few weeks of food, a few spare outfits and her body glove, there wasn't much she hadn't already inventoried at least in her head. She'd need to invest in some kind of datapad, if they had them, or a set of folders and papers if not, to get a proper inventory set up. Next would normally be checking over the ship's hull and systems, but… Well, it didn't have any systems and she'd checked the hull while Ghira gave her the tour earlier.
She could do her normal regimen, but…
"Too damn hot for that. Maybe Spark could teach me to sail?" She sighed, laying back on the stiff pillow of her cot, one leg resting over her knee while she thought about the idea. After a few short moments she chuckled and sighed, "Not a chance. He'd never let me live down me asking him to teach me like that."
"You're right, I wouldn't."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Just a bit, but we ought not speak ill of the dead, Rion." He said quietly, stepping into the little room and stating simply and coolly, "We've gotten close enough to the coordinates for my Watchers to perform long range scans of the area."
"Already?" She blinked, sitting up on her bed, "It's barely been twenty minutes, though."
"The ship's maximum speed is approximately two point seven five percent faster than I initially suspected it would be, on the calm seas we've been traveling." He answered, as always, simply and calmly, like it was all so obvious. "Also, we are still twenty nine point five minutes out. That would equal approximately forty nine point three five minutes of transit, which is in the margin of error."
"Well you're in a mood…"
"Technically, I'm always in a mood." He smiled, folding his hands in front of himself and cocking his head mockingly, "As are you. That's how sapient beings function, after all, Rion."
"And it's a bad mood, too, apparently…" She sighed, "What did the long range scans show, then? I'm guessing something, since you came to see me. And who is steering the ship anyway?"
"No one." He answered, "There's nothing in front of us, and a Watcher is circling overhead, so I would know if that changed at all. Also, 'steering' is technically not the correct word to use here. Technically, the word is 'piloting'."
"Please, just tell me what your scans picked up…"
"I thought you wanted me to teach you naval knowledge."
"Maybe later." She sighed, knowing she'd regret that later even as she said it. The way he shifted to a more eager, warm yellow didn't dissuade her from that fear, either. Ignoring it, she sighed, "For now, I want to focus, Spark. What did you find?"
"My Watchers' long range systems can't scan under the water at this distance, we need to close a bit more for that." He preambled quickly, "But on the surface they can detect outlines at a fair enough distance using simple long range scans, using thin, imperceptible Hard-Light lances far too weak to do anything to read the dimensions of distant shapes."
"And?"
"And there are two vessels with the same dimensions approximately four hundred yards away from where the ship went down." He answered quietly, his metal face set in a firm, almost anxious kind of grimace, "They are fast looking craft with what appear to be sails as well as steam based engines."
"What are they doing?" She asked, "Can you tell at this range?"
"Neither have moved at all in the last five minutes." He answered, voice only growing more and more grave as he went on, "They're moored, and I see no signs of equipment that could be used for salvaging or large scale trapping and fishing."
"How big are they?"
"Each of them are half our size." He answered, paying her a long, heavy look. "If I had to hazard a guess at who they are…"
"Pirates." She nodded knowingly, standing and shaking her head as much at her luck as at there being pirates. "What do you think we should do, Spark?"
"Oh, am I the captain now after all?"
"No, you're a friend who I'm asking for advice." She said quietly, kneeling and tugging the box of her clothes out from under the cot. While she dug through it she went on, "We shouldn't have any trouble dealing with pirates, between your drones and your… Well, you. But I don't know if we want to get into a fight."
"Witnesses could be… A problem."
"That's, uh, not exactly what I meant." He gave her a look, one brow raised curiously, and she just sighed. Laying the armored suit out she waved for him to turn around and, with a sigh, he did. Stripping out of her loose clothes she said, "I don't know if we want to show our hand any more than we already have. The more we show you off, the more rumors will spread about us."
"I imagine that won't be something we can help." He pointed out dryly, "The only Human on Menagerie is likely already excellent fodder for the rumor mill. And any exploits against the Grimm, and I am sure there will be at least some, will only add to that."
"So?" She asked, slipping into the suit and letting it automatically adhere to her, hugging her every inch like a comfortable, combat ready blanket. "Do you think we should run?"
"No." He answered, turning to her as if he knew she was decent enough and smiling warmly and, somehow, viciously at the same time, "I'm saying we should destroy these pirates, find out what they were here for, and let the people of Menagerie think what they like."
"You're not worried about us exposing ourselves?"
"Oh, I am." He countered breezily, waving the concern off with a hand. "But I hate pirate scum more than I could ever bring myself to be worried about being well-known. And like I said, I doubt we can do much to prevent that outright so… We may as well get to choose how it happens, and what we're known for. Who knows, maybe it will put anyone who might want to target us off?"
"Maybe, yeah." It would certainly prove that Grimm or not, they were a force to fear. And not to mess with. "And you think that pirate hunting is a good place to start?"
"Oh, definitely." He nodded, "And I have a plan, too."
"Alright." She sighed, turning to him and folding her arms over her chest, "Let's hear it, then, Spark."
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"And we've got around a week's worth of supplies we can sit through before needing to head up the coast for porting, Captain." His first mate, a wiry, bookish little man he'd met in Mistral, said as he walked the deck of his ship. "We've more than enough ammunition for another raid, as well, and the same applies to our Dust fuel. That we actually have a surplus of, after that transport liner we knocked out a few weeks back. I don't know where those wretched half-breeds got that much fuel worthy Dust, but it's ours now."
"Thanks the gods for their gifts." He rumbled, rubbing a hand over his thick stomach and pursing his dry lips. "Continue your report, Alistair."
"Of course, Captain White."
'Captain White' sighed as he watched his men and women work and listened to the man's daily report, virtually unchanged for the last few weeks. Around them his loyal, Human men and women worked the ship quietly. Each of them paused to pay him respectful nods which, short of a proper salute as they were, instilled just a bit of pride back into 'Captain White' as he made his way along the deck. They weren't airships, to say the least of the little ships he'd been given, and they weren't proper navy either, two decades out from modern Mistral fare for that, but…
Mistral didn't need him on either of those right now.
He'd been told that very clearly.
"If we don't get any quarry by near-evening, order the crew to begin preparations to head up-coast for port." He ordered firmly, already planning to get into a barber's to have the rough beard fighting for life in spite of his razor's best efforts. "We'll range further east on our next outing, maybe, or west, to intercept relief lines to Vale."
"But those are Human, no?"
"Vale let the animals run too free and we saw what happened." He grunted with a quick and simple shrug of his broad shoulders, "Hit the relief lines and blame the White Fang. We all know they caused the Fall of Beacon, so they've earned it."
"Aye, Captain White." Alistair nodded, "I'll order them to- Hrk!"
Turning, Captain White watched in slow motion as the man stumbled forward, his thin back blackened and smoking. He coughed and then pawed at his chest before turning to look at his captain, one bloody hand reaching out to White as if he could help him somehow. Then, with a sigh, the second officer collapsed in a loose, limp heap.
"Attack!" He warned, ducking low and sweeping forward, under the cover of the mast and sails as an orange round screamed into the deck where he'd been. While his deck smoldered he warned, "Enemies above!"
Around him his crew scrambled for cover as professionally as they could, calling out his warning again and again as they went on the off chance someone hadn't heard him. While White watched several of them spasmed and bucked, clawing at smoldering wounds and the stumps of limbs as they collapsed to the decking. Most made it to cover, but once they had rounds began snapping down through the poor coverage, carving through canvas sails, wooden decking, and screaming sailors as they rained down like the fiery fury of the sun itself.
From the smell of cooking meat, he almost believed that was what had happened.
The sail and rigging above him meant that firing up would be suicide but he yanked his flare gun free regardless and stood, firing it out over the water instead. It flared to life for a brief, bright moment before he saw a flurry of orange-red light lance down from on high and the fire of the light died.
Had they shot his flare…?
"Someone, get to the helm!" He screamed, "Get us moving, I don't care where!"
The helm was open air, to give the captain a good view of the ship, and mounted to the front of his boat. Anyone that went for it was likely to be cut down as they went, or went they got them moving. But his crew, Mistrali professionals to the last man and woman, didn't hesitate. Only a handful had the keys to unlock the steering but over a dozen stood to run, using their lives as a herd shield to protect the ones that could actually do as he'd ordered.
He watched as one by one they were cut down, the final managing to just key the engine and raise their anchor before a burst orange-red lights flashed down and into her back. Her chest and arms sagged to one side, as the boat lurched forward, while her legs slumped to another, cleanly separated from the rest.
They made it ten feet before their engine screamed and they jerked to a stop. When he turned, the engine was smoking and, as the last handful of his crew stood, he heard something slam down into the decking beside him.
"I'm very sorry." He heard as he turned, looking up into the smiling metal face of an automaton unlike anything he'd ever seen. "But I can't allow you to escape. You can surrender, though, if you would like. Menagerie will accept it, I'm sure."
Before he could think, his hand yanked up his flare pistol, belting out a streaking round into the machine's face. As he turned he dwlt a pressure on his back and grunted as he was raised into the air.
"I guess not." The machine said, looming over him as he was hoisted high, one of the machine's arms wrapping around his throat. "Well, that's fine by me, I suppose. I do hate pirates."
With a jerk down, Captain Archibald Silver, or 'Captain White' right now out on his mission, saw the hand sprout from his breast. Wheezing once, he fell still, just barely aware of when his body hit the decking and the machine stepped over him, almost entirely unphased by the bolts and rounds of his crew's weapons as they tried to fend it off.
The very last thing he saw was their sister ship listed by, the ship slowly dipping to one side as its engine and sails burned and its mast groaned, falling to one side and carving through decking as it went.
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"Seventy-five assorted small arms rifles and sidearms, forty nine assorted crates of trade goods and miscellaneous supplies, probably looted from Menagerie and Valean traders," according to Spark, at least, who said he had the Kingdom sigils saved in his memory, "a few weeks of surplus food and water, and a full stock of fuel… I wish you hadn't sunk the other ship, now."
"Our hold is nearly full as it is." Spark answered simply, watching his Watchers levitate the crates one by one into the stomach of the ship. "And we will only be able to haul one of them into port anyway. The other can rest in the same grave, with its loathsome crew, that they believed their targets deserved."
"Fair." She sighed, "Any sign of the lost ship?"
"One hundred and twenty odd feet below us, stripped of anything worth anything, and likely loaded onto the pirate vessels." Spark answered quietly as the two Watchers went on to the next barrel, chock full of pilfered polearms, "When we get back to Menagerie with this kind of haul, we're certain to turn heads."
"And our wallets." She smiled, "The fuel will be great to have around, though. Should last us weeks out here. The food, too."
"Unless it spoils."
"Yeah…" She nodded, leaning against the edge of the railing that enclosed the deck. Her deck. "Remind me to pick up some fishing gear."
"Fishing gear?"
"You were a fisherman?" Spark nodded quietly, gazing at her almost pensively, and Rion smiled warmly. "Well, I figured you might like to do some fishing. Something good to pass the time and, I mean, I'm not a massive fan of fish, but food is food. And if we don't eat them all we can always sell some for extra Lien."
"I wouldn't be against that…" Spark murmured, going still and quiet for a long, almost worrying while before he shrugged. "I suppose I wouldn't mind helping out in that manner. Though I don't think Lien will be much of a problem for some time after this kind of haul, honestly."
"Maybe not." She shrugged, "But it will eventually. Speaking of Lien, what do you think about that ship?"
"The little interceptor?" She nodded and, knowing where her head was, he waved her off, "We don't have anyone that can crew it. I will do well to keep this boat moving, and need to use services in the docks for enough of it, as is. We don't need another boat that I can't keep just sitting around."
"Better to sell it?"
"Repair it first." He said quickly, "But after? Yes, definitely. It should fetch a fine price."
"Alright." She said, opting for another topic to pass more time while the Watchers did their nearly finished work. "Any idea what these pirates were up to?"
"I would assume piracy."
"I meant beyond the obvious." She rolled her eyes, "Ass."
"I know." Spark nodded, grinning one of his eerie metal grins before shrugging ambivalently. "I don't know. Perhaps you should search the captain's quarters later, and see what can be found? If there is a journal or some such you may find your answers."
"Not a bad suggestion."
"Of course not." He chuckled, "It was mine, after all."
"Ass."
"I still think that they were merely pirates." He pointed out, "Though it is somewhat odd that they used precisely the same model of ship. Normally, pirates just use whatever they can get their filthy little hands on."
"That's why I'm so suspicious." She nodded, pushing off the railing and ordering, "Get the cargo loaded and locked away, then turn us back towards Kuo Kuana. I'll be on the other ship, searching for information."
"I'll give you a lift." Spark nodded, waving a hand and directing one of the Watchers over to her where it floated at hip level, back to her.
"Alright…" It took a moment to find a way to do it but eventually she climbed on, resting her knees on top of the machine's wheel-like thrusters and sitting on top of it. It was awkward, to say the least, but… "This'll work. Send me over, Spark."
"Have fun." He smiled, waving his hand and calling out as she lifted off into the air, "And don't slip on the blood or anything! I don't feel like dealing with you and a concussion."
"I'd flip you off if I wasn't hanging on!" She spat back as she was flown over the open ocean to the other, more damaged boat. Once it had dropped her off the Watcher turned to return, buzzing away quietly, and she sighed, "Now to get to work."
She'd just have to ignore the blood, smoke and bodies somehow.
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Spark is a monster in a fight.
An advisory, there will be fights that he struggles in, and other risks besides. A bunch of not-pirates with old weapons only good in numbers and relatively low-tier Grimm, though, aren't going to pose that threat.
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Dasgun :
Big Boss Hayden :
That was just a joke, friendo.
Combine 117 :
Rion do be right, though.
KPMH2001 :
Yeah, I wanted to make that a good scene. Real talk, a lot of the chapter was building to that.
Smokey Panda :
Glad to hear it!