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Sienna Khan was many things, and was called even more by her detractors, but punctual had to be one of the weirder ones for her to be. At least in Rion's opinion 'terrorist hierarch' and 'punctual to a tee' didn't really match up. But there she was, right at twelve on the dial, strolling up the walkway with four of her guards flanking her. Along with a thin young woman trailing along behind the bunch, talking to Blake.
"Oh, here she comes." Spark muttered beside her as Rion leaned on the railing of her ship. "And… I wonder, is that four or six tag-alongs?"
"Placing bets?"
"Only one of them was ever a Fang." Spark pointed out, blinking and adding. "Well, recently at least."
"Hey, I didn't even have to tell him."
"You know, Captain, your ribs are still healing." Spark warned her, resting a cold hand on her shoulder. "Just one little pat on the back… Completely accidental, of course-"
"Oh, take a chill pill, my favorite little murder-bot." She laughed, shrugging the machine's hand off and turning to stroll up the deck towards the boarding ramp. Annoying as he was being, it was still nice to see him back to his good humor. "You got everything ready on our end. Right?"
"I cleared out the spare room and the empty storage room towards the ship's fore, yes." Spark answered lowly, probably wary of more sensitive Faunus ears. Cat, dog, it didn't matter, Rion was certain that there were plenty of options out there for them to be paranoid about. Eyeing the weapon racks that lined the base of the boathouse, he added, "And I see you got the new furniture in place."
"Mhm." It had been prudent, they'd both figured, to get some put in if the Fang were going to be aboard with non-Forerunner weapons that they had to actually tuck away somewhere. "I mean, I didn't do it, but I ordered it."
"Taking advantage of the Chieftain's funding on this, are we?"
"Only an idiot says 'no, sir, don't pay for this expensive thing I need', Spark." She chuckled, waving him off. "Go look busy, now, you know the drill."
"Yes, yes." He sighed, "Play the dumn drone, because Sienna is definitely daft enough to fall for that if we only persevere with it."
Rion only shrugged and watched him stalk away to… Pretend to work on the railing, for some reason. Was he that bad of an actor, or just not very committed to the part? Either way, it really wasn't something worth dealing with right now, and she had a whole other cat to skin.
Or at least, Rion was pretty certain Sienna was some kind of feline...
"I wonder if that would be racist to ask…" She murmured aloud as the woman came to the bottom of the gangplank and set a foot on it. It probably was, so she pushed the thought away and raised her voice instead. "Miss Khan! I, uh, believe the right way to say it is 'happy noon' right?"
The woman paused to trade glances with one of her guards, then smirked, shook her head and resumed her march up the ramp. "It is, yes. Are we stealing our customs or adopting them?"
"Neither." Rion answered clearly, stepping back to let them drop onto the deck. As Sienna turned to her she said, "I'm just trying to… Make you feel as welcome as you are."
"Oh?" Sienna chuckled, cocking a hip to rest a fist on. Grinning wryly, the Faunus said, "Then where are the explosives and marksmen aiming at my chest?"
"What-"
"What I'm saying is to cut the games, Rion. We both know you don't enjoy me co opting your ship like this. Or your droid..." Sienna sighed, turning and looking out over the deck. Apparently spotting the lockers, she asked, "Those for our gear?"
"Uh…" So this was going to go splendidly… Nodding, she said, "Yeah, for whatever they need ready at a moment's notice. I have storage in quarters for… Clothes, and the like, but thought you might need quicker access to some things."
"Smart." She nodded, waving towards the heavy, grey lockers. "Get your goods stowed, and make sure the sealant on those lockers is solid. Last thing we want is moist Dust when we get into a fight…"
On instinct, Rion almost corrected her 'when' to an 'if'. But they were actively looking for a fight, so…
"Blake!" She raised her voice to call, starlight the cat-woman as she dropped onto the deck. She stumbled a step but righted herself fluidly, meeting her eyes with a glare and a flush to her cheeks that darkened when she heard Ilia chuckle behind her. Smiling, Rion said, "Seeing as you are already experienced with the layout of my ship, would you mind showing Miss Khan's men to your old room?"
"My old room…?"
"Yes." Rion smiled even more widely, "The one below-decks, towards the fore…?"
"A-Ah…." Blake frowned, slipping past her and calling back. Sounding pained as she went, she called back, "Just, uh, follow me, you lot."
After a few moments, and a quiet look to their High Leader, the guards slipped away, laden with packs and carrying a crate between two of them. While most went downstairs, slipping through a door at the base of the boathouse, a couple broke off to inspect the lockers that lined the boathouse, and then began loading them up with little balls, vials of Dust, and small rifles and tools.
"Medical supplies, mostly." Sienna said when Rion turned back to her. The star-ship captain raised a curious eyebrow and Sienna shrugged, leaning against the railing and folding her arms under her bust. "What? I saw you looking, and felt I should let you know. You can even check if you like, I told them to let you search our things."
"I won't be doing that." Rion sighed, chewing on her lip for a moment before she joined the Faunus. Sienna watched her warily, but didn't move away from her or do anything when she sat next to her, so she figured it was fine. "I respect you, Khan, and if this is going to work, I need to trust you too. So if you say it's medical supplies…"
"Trust like that is dangerous."
"Yes, it is." She nodded, turning to what was most likely one of the more dangerous women she'd met. Smirking, she said, "But hey, I like taking risks, you know."
"Oh?"
"It's part of the fun." Rion shrugged, "You don't get far in scrapping and salvaging if you play everything safe and sure."
"I suppose that makes sense…" Sienna murmured, turning to watch her men finish loading the racks and head inside to find their fellows. Or maybe even their bunks, for all she knew they had been up and running for hours already. Chuckling quietly, Sienna said, "Being a fighter for my people is much the same. All risk, adrenaline, and pushing on without quite knowing what will come of it."
"Less grease stains on your clothes, I imagine…"
"Grease stains? Yes. Other stains?" Sienna sighed and turned to her, asking, "You honestly don't mind us, do you?"
"Why would I…?"
"Many view us as violent Human killers." Siena answered simply and forwardly. "And many of us are violent Human killers, at that."
"I know." Rion nodded, laying a soft hand on her still tender side and adding. "I met Taurus. Remember?"
"Don't remind me about him right now, thanks." Sienna snarled suddenly, bristling beside her and shaking her head. Pushing off the ship's railing, Sienna paced a few feet forward and then pivoted on a heel to ask, "When do we leave, then? I'm assuming you had a time in mind."
"I was going to ask for your input on that…"
"Fair enough, I suppose." The woman sighed, turning to look up at the sky. After a few moments, she said, "An hour, then. Time for my men to settle and the sun to warm up the seas."
"Sure, that'll work for me." Why Sienna, or anyone, would want it to be hotter was beyond Rion, but she'd asked for the woman's input, and there it was. It wouldn't exactly be very polite to ignore it now, would it? Turning to leave, she said, "I'll do some last checks, then, and get us under-way."
"Happy sailing." Sienna chuckled, adding more quietly, "Captain."
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By the same time the next day, they'd sailed far out to the North, and into the midst of a thundering, howling storm. Her ship rocked and heaved, cresting high waves and as much falling as sailing down into the deep valleys the roiling waves formed. Each time, she was snapped back and forth where she sat at the navigation table, and twice she'd felt her ass come off the seat and slam back down as they fell. She was only saved the risk of biting her own tongue off by discipline from years in space, where turbulence from all kinds of things could hit at a moment's notice.
And for all Spark had told her three times already it was most definitely not a hurricane, Rion wasn't really all that convinced by it. And to make matters worse…
"You're sure?"
"I am one hundred percent certain, yes." Spark said from his post at the wheel of the ship, steady as always as he fought against the tides around them. That they hadn't smashed apart yet was almost certainly thanks to him. Eyes closed while he accessed whatever program he was using, he went on, "Radar puts the three of them about a kilometer away, to our North. Towards Mistral."
"And you're really-"
"I have a visual, Rion. Or, well, I did before the lightning cut it off." The ancient man sighed wearily, mechanical eyes finally opening as he turned to her. "Mistrali designs, no flags, in the Mistralian formation with the command in the back… It's them. I would bet plenty on it."
"Hunting in this weather...?" She murmured, mind racing, "It's insane…"
"It's doubtful that they came out here knowing about this storm." Spark argued quietly, only speaking as loud as he needed to for Rion to hear him over the storm. "So, no. I doubt that they came out here to hunt Menagerie ships. Without my Watchers, it'd be nearly impossible even for me. And actually impossible at this range…"
"True, true." Rion grunted as she slammed back down into her seat and then turned to him, smirking. "But did I say I meant they were hunting in it, Spark?"
"Did you mean…?" Spark paused for a moment and then laughed, a quiet chuckle rolling into a near bellow, before he sighed and shook his metal head. "Honestly, how I keep letting you surprise me is beyond me."
"Maybe you're going senile?"
"I am a multi-millennia old AI, Rion." He chuckled, "I don't think I can 'go senile'."
"But-"
"And I swear to whatever gods you believe in," he cut in, before she could state the obvious, "if you bring up that incident, I will turn this ship around. And you will not even get any dessert!"
"Oh do not threaten me over Miss Belladonna's cookies, Spark!" Rion threatened hotly, "Those aren't a joking matter!"
"Who's joking?!"
"You, if you think you can threaten my favorite cookies!" Rion laughed, turning back to her map and asking. "How soon until we get to where we can engage the pirates?"
"Half an hour or so." Spark answered, adding, "I'm assuming you have a plan, then?"
"Yeah..." Rion smiled, staring down at the map. And at the vast swathe of blue they were sailing through. "I need to think for a bit. Send a Watcher to tell me where they're headed, and try to make the rendezvous point somewhere around grid point Y-12."
"Why?"
"I have an idea…" She answered quietly, "We need to shut this fleet down, and isolate the command ship."
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The storm might have been bad at sea level, but high in the air the storm was only worse. Wind currents whipped around his Watchers with enough force to bat even them to and fro, carrying water and ice with enough force to drain their barriers a bit as they flew. Already, one had been destroyed by lightning, and he'd been forced to drop further towards sea-level in hopes of preventing any more strikes from destroying his poor drones before they could complete their important work.
A work which, ironically, called on the very same lightning that had already caused them so many problems.
The Mistrali ships were the same kind they'd encountered before, with the heavy engine in the back and the high, secondary sails. Sails that were furled now, to protect them while the engines fought against the tide of the storm to keep relatively on whatever path they had left on. Their formation was remarkably in order, though, considering the high tides. Two ships sailed ahead and to the side, providing a screen for the third ship at the rear and center. Where, he presumed, the low admiral of this little fleet was commanding from.
No sign of the man himself, though… He was probably commanding the crew up top from his private, warm office.
Circling high overhead, he ordered his drones to target the forward mast of the rear ship and waited while the rain beat down and the wind whipped around them. It took nearly ten minutes but, finally, a high wave cut through the hundred or so feet between the forward ships and the rear one. And he seized his chance, carving concentrated bursts of hard-light fire down and into the mast at the center of the ship.
It took a second volley, but it fell, crashing back and down, into the top of the rear of the ship and the sea beyond. Another pair of bursts snapped the second, which fell into the sea alongside the ship, dragged along by the ropes, tackle and sails that caught all across the deck. Sailors surged out of the boathouse, axes, knives and all sorts of other things in hand to cut the fallen mast free, and he dedicated one of his Watchers to raining down fire on them.
Remarkably, he had to kill a full dozen of them before they finally retreated back into the bowels of the ship to hide.
By the time the two leading ships noticed the rear one had fallen out of formation, they had gone nearly another two hundred feet. He saw them beginning to turn and ordered a Watcher to each. Shots rained down on their rear, where the engines were, and between the storm and the sudden onslaught, he could see the panic on their decks. Sailors rushed to and fro trying to dodge fire but keep the ships moving, clusters of men arguing and shoving each other before sprays of hard-light cut them down. He spotted a uniformed man surge out onto one of the decks, waving his hand and no doubt bellowing orders, and made a show of carving him into pieces through volume of fire.
They angled North, and he intensified his fire on the engine.
They angled South, and he started slaughtering men on the decks again.
But then they turned East, and he slackened, which seemed to be enough to convince them to run that way. One of them trailed smoke and listed as it went, no doubt thanks to hard-light rounds striking Dust and starting fires. He followed them, though, occasionally sprinkling fire behind them to better sell the illusion of a ship in pursuit, spraying fire as they out-paced it.
Finally, as the waves raised them up and they came down, he saw the less-damaged ship at the front buckle along its spine and jerk to the side. Men flailed as they were thrown, some out to the water itself, and Spark forced himself to watch the wave that came down and crushed the vessel against the coral reef beneath it. The last ship, seeing the fate of the first, turned sharply to try and evade.
But it was too late, and suffered the same fate before he opened his eyes and said, "It's done."
"Good." The woman nodded, tugging her boots on more tightly and taking a breath. As she turned for the door, she said, "You stay here. Make sure we don't end up running into any coral, if you can. Alright?"
"Aye, Captain." He chuckled, fighting back the anxiety at her going off to fight without him. He knew her reasoning well enough, no one else could sail like he could, for a variety of reasons. But he didn't have to like it… Setting that aside, he called out jokingly, "I will avoid the frankly hilariously ironic death that would be. No worries!"
She only nodded as she slipped through the door.
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"Coming with us isn't necessary." Sienna Khan pointed out when she joined the White Fang in their little barracks, where Blake had spent some time herself a while back. It was different now, with a pair of bunks set to either side of the door and a pair of lockers at the far end, but more or less hadn't been changed all that much.
It made a surprisingly good room for the job, though. Maybe she'd put down some carpets and start carrying passengers at some point...
"I know I don't." She finally said after a moment, turning to meet the Faunus' gaze and smiling thinly. "I want to, though."
"Because…?"
"Mostly, because I want to make sure you lot don't get all the good loot before I get a turn." Rion laughed, waving a hand around her at the ship. "I don't know if you forgot, but this is supposed to be a salvager's ship. Not an interceptor."
"Hah." Sienna snorted, shaking her head. "Fair enough, then."
"Mhm." She blinked as one of the guards turned to her, holding out a stocky little bull-pup rifle. It was short, with a tiny barrel sticking out past the rugged, boxy frame of the weapon and a top loading magazine like some of the old European models she'd read about when she was younger. "Uh, why-"
"If you're going to board, you need a weapon." The guard intoned quietly, still holding the little weapon out to her. "Your normal one is expensive looking. This is cheap, so if you lose it, there's no real loss."
For a moment, she almost refused. She'd been planning on waving for Spark to get her a Suppressor before they got there, after all. But then again, it was a gift. Between the White Fang and a Human, no less. So maybe refusing it wouldn't be the absolute wisest decision she could make…
"Thanks." She muttered finally, taking the weapon and the pair of extra magazines he held out a moment later. Practicing reloading it, she said, "We should be where we're going shortly. Is there a plan?"
"We jump over, kill whoever gets in our way, get our man, and then head home." Sienna answered shortly, rolling her whip around her arm and grinning ferally. "After you grab whatever you want off the ship, of course."
"And the survivors…?"
"They came out here to kill innocent Faunus." Sienna growled, turning a hard, hot look on her. "Why should I give a damn about them? Let them drown, I say."
"...Fair." Rion nodded after a moment. She didn't much like just leaving people to drown, but… Well, pirates got what they had coming.
"Glad that's settled." Sienna chuckled, paying her a short look before she turned and barked, "Everyone, on deck. We have a ship to take."
"Yes, Leader Khan."
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