Public Stars of Plunder: Pact of Gold

[Ganii]

She was up plenty early to prepare and arrive, and after preparing put the stone housing Xaelis back on her head. Her toolkit, her daggar, her blaster, thick work gloves, and a helmet fitted with safety and welding goggles, hearing protection, and a rebreather. She stood and watched, her toolbox in one hand as she heard them speak. She certainly wasn't fond of the types of people she was working for, but credits were credits and she needed them right now.

Ganii took in more of a breath as the Engineers were more spoken to specifically. Since it seemed she'd end up working with them. Great, already repairs needed to get done. Wish they'd have said that yesterday! I would have already gotten started! She thought grumpily. You also might not have bothered to sleep. That is not something I can remedy. Xaelis warned

And then they went to boarding. She quickly went to start finding and repairing whatever was damaged. Repairs were easy, they weren't always, but they were never really that hard. When something was already constructed it typically followed an easy pattern, so you just had to match that pattern with what was damaged and problem solved. That was how her mind worked anyway. Really, were she to have been born elsewhere, she probably would have gone into engineering as an actual profession. But it is what it is.

An alien spoke in something that could barely be described as basic, she was pretty sure he hadn't given her orders, so she continued trying to work on fixing things. Which left Xaelis with very precious little to do, not that he hadn't gotten used to such a problem. With so many years of life, some of which unworn, time alone was a familiar thing. At least there was movement to percieve.

Anmetei M'lo E Eric Vales Vulcan Krayt

 

[Anmetei M'lo]

The cranes were kicked into motion, as the crew members mounted the cockpit. The Hangar bay's main gate opens wide, as they load in supplies and ammunition, for Amanda and the crew to carry them down belowdeck. Heavy load, required a whole lifter to get them to move. Then, the corsairs were pulling the thick chain cranes, with which they wrapped the crates before leading them at the storage below. A very tiring job; The very ship had the very minimum to support her crew. No surprise there, really; Corsairs from the Wild Space were renown of not respecting much of luxury, as much of practicality. The Soudforz was no different.

The welding E Eric Vales was working on was a grinding process. Large chunks of the hull were bent, some had to even be removed and replaced. Durasteel was never an easy partner in such works. To cut them required heavy duty lazer cutters, while moving the several ton weight was a near-impossible task. And yet, these scraps were never thrown away... "They gonna be of use as spares" the Cog-Hearted said, according to the crew that muttered and joked about the Chief Engineer, with bitter humour in their words. In time, the Chief Engineer indeed showed up herself. A tall, grim-skinned woman covered by grease and blackened by the works in the engine room. Her hair short, cut at the edges, while her eyes gave a strange feeling when someone looked at them. A dark aura, some could claim.

"We need hands in the Hyperdrive" her laconic voice intoned. "She never speaks much" the crew members would comment. "She's the Cap'n's type; Hardly eats with the rest of us".
Regardless the ill-intent comments, however, the Cog-hearted seemed more than just akin to her task. For one who worked besides her, she was always the one taking the initiative, with little regard to explainations or records. She knew her ship. She knew it well. Although Nayr was the one moving the wires and spitting orders, usually drowned in most innovative curses one could only think heard for the first time, the Cog was silent. The noise of the engine room was deafening, with her being a ghost within the machinery and piping.

Back at the main deck, Anmetei M'lo walks bow-to-stern and back every now and then, overseeing the works and the progress done. "We need those two fighters of the new rats onboard" he said to Nayr. "Ye gonna put them next to Hoplites? They ain't gonna like it..." the quartermaster said.

"'Tis gonna be a'ight... I spoke with the cap'n. She wanted 'em in... 'sif its gonna be big loss, next te the Hoplites... Get em onboard, I want the ship sailing by tonight, Nayr... The sisters'ain'gonna wait for us!"

And so, the crew was making ready for the Soudforz to set sail from the system. Works were intense, while the munition storage and cargo holds of the ship filled to the teeth with crates...

By nightfall, the fiery engines of the Destroyer kicked in, pushing the vast spaceship off the docks and into the cold of space... The light onboard the narrow corridors of the ship were dim, while several were sparkling; Ill-maintained they were, torn by time and hardship.

The crew gathers at the mess hall. Several of them are out still on duty, while Anmetei M'lo was missing; To the cabins, most likely. The very cabins were a hive of bunk beds, four one atop the other, supported by steel bars. Rather narrow, with little space for a single individual to walk through. Each crew was given a small locker in which to store the few personal items he or she may have. Some tend to keep small bags of their things in their beds, or in their respective posts. Now, they rested at the mess hall, the most of them, hearing the rather unrealistic stories of the strange alien creature they called Slapjoe.

"And so, we'yall'ere onboar'de frigat'e, runnin' after da Jedi, while te cap'n's STILL laughin'on'te gas dey threw on'us! I find some tubin' hide over'de while de Jedi keeps runnin'! And BAM! I kil'de bantha'lot with a pipe a'hand!"

A weird little guy; Always having a rather fascinating and more than just unrealistic story of his adventures, while none seem to be as close as to his service onboard the Soudforz.. Who believed him and who did not, was anyone's guess. But yet still, most laughed and drunk to them regardless. His excitement on each story was beyond words, with excess body language further enhancing the "realism" of his tale.

"Course'ye did, Banthaheaded wampadrop" Nayr comments, shaking his head as he drinks from his bottle. "Me, ets true, Quartmast'r! I ded'et wit deez'ands! BANG on'er head and dead!"

"Wasn't it a "he" five minutes ago?" another of the crew asks, with his voice struggling not to burst into laughter.

"Nay! T'was'a'she, im tellin'ya! Big'ol Jedi 'one!"

Unlike most of the crew, some did not share the euphoria of the night. The Cog-hearted was one of them. Her eyes grim, her palms wrapped around her bottle. She did not speak, nor did she laugh in the jokes. The rest of the corsairs acted as if this was something natural. Something normal, for the Chief Engineer. Not far off was a Duro corsair. He was much different than the others; Sitting besides the Cog-Hearted, he had not drunk or eaten. His lower face always covered by a rebreather. A life support, which only added to the excess marks and scars on his head and arms.

As about the others, each crew member got a bottle of "Kandydrink" as the cook called it. He was making it himself out of grease and penetrate liquid from the engine room.. A strong alcohoolic poison, some may argue it was more of a weapon of a killer rather than a drink. But alas, onboard, it mattered little. Between the hardships and chemical exposure on deck, the risking of life during boardings and battling in the void, drinking a toxic cocktail to relax the brain was not such a big deal for a corsair of the Soudforz.

Alas... Not all conversations were joyful. In time, Anmetei M'lo enters the mess hall. He limbs against the ivory walking stick towards the kitchen, where he gets one of these poisonous bottles. "Drink well, lads!" he said. "Cap'n's gonna have us on their tail by tomorrow! Gonna get these bastards'a Soudforz beating!"

E Eric Vales Vulcan Krayt Ganii

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Vulcan had eagerly got stuck into some repair work himself, he started by hammering out a few dents here and there. He might as well make himself useful, he wouldn't be on board if he wasn't committed. A few panels needed welding so he did those next, balancing himself quite precariously. But he wasn't going to fall any time soon. The welding was slow, the Durasteel refusing to cooperate. After a while, it was sturdy and attached to where it is supposed to go.

He took a momentary breather, he likened the inside of the ship to a hive of bees, always busy and never enough work to do. And, he is a part of the hive, doing his bit. Well, except if it involves growing fur, he couldn't shake that bit off so easily. He apparently takes things way too literally, but it did not seem like the boss was kidding during his speech.

But, he was not idle for too long, he turned his attention to the wiring, what a jumbled mess, not to worry, they will semble some coherency once he untangled them. Well, it's taking a little longer than he had hoped for, turns out dark indigo and black are way too similar to him, after a quick counsel from one of the others, he was able to get the wires wired up decently.

Later on in the day, Vulcan joined the others in the Mess Hall, well he did moments after he greedily claimed top bunk for himself in his assigned cabin, he had to elbow another crewmate in the face to get it, but he was victorious.

He decided to keep his things on his person at all times. Much easier to keep track of it all. He looked at the bottle in his hand, both with suspicion and awe. His curiosity got the better of him and he took a swig. It burned, but it was a good burn, the sort of burn that signals the dawn of a new day for him.

<"How can you hit a Jedi?"> Vulcan wondered aloud. <"Wouldn't they stop you with the force?">

 

[Ganii]

At some point Ganii realized she ended up working on the smaller bits, ensuring there were no electronics not properly connected, or pipes that had gotten bent, dented, or loose, after the walls and such were being repaired. It wasn't necessarily a taxing job, but it was one that should not be left unattended. She kept her eye out of course, when she remembered. Occasionally she'd hear a comment or two from Xaelis. Welcome certainly, but it also could get a bit tiresome. The entrapped Kaleesh seemed to randomly swap from a slight flair for wording and utter blunt simplicity.

Though she was given a locker apparently, like many others she assumed, she kept most of her stuff on her. She could leave her tools inside as they weren't worth a whole lot, and she knew they already had others on board. But otherwise, she wasn't inclined to leave anything. She looked at her bunk, and those who had also prepared around her, I assume I will not be keeping an eye out while you sleep. Came Xaelis's voice in her head, You know it's not comfortable doing that...in at least two ways. And just how many warnings are you going to give me today? Wouldn't this be the type of thing you dealt with when you were...you know...alive.

She was pretty sure she heard him grunt, or snort, I fought with fellow Kaleesh Warriors. Of my own Tribe. These are pirates. They could have been convenient distractions in my old way, but I would not tolerate them long in my territory.
What about those three that joined with us? Or me?
The force user intrigues me. However, unlike some Jedi and Sith, perceptions were rarely my greatest feat. I do not know their mind any more than you. You are one from a misfortunate background, here by necessity more than desire. These pirates are not the same.
Well, if you say so.

In the mess hall there was less talk from him, aside from occasionally her feeling his dislike of the very talkative and exaggerative storyteller. Personally she was entertained, however little she believed the creature. She heard Vulcan Krayt musing about how one hits a Jedi, and before she could stop herself mumbled, "Surprise or overwhelm." She put the food in her mouth quick, Kark it man, you're rubbing off on me.
That is a perfectly logical answer for a common person to know. The force might have the ability to accomplish anything, but users are far more limited.

In came Anmetei M'lo with his own bit to say. She wasn't really sure if she should cheer or not, so she just took a drink. This was going to be a rough journey.

E Eric Vales