"Final preparations are being made, boss." The portly navigation officer, Matthiew "Matty" Grissom, spoke to Renault. An old time friend, Matty had accompanied the captain on many a voyage, delving into deep ruins of the old world and fighting off the most vicious of pirates to assail them. Grissom may weigh a little under three hundred pounds and tends to enjoy that one extra leg of mutton at dinner, but there are few that are as deadly with dueling pistols as he. Wearing a dark blue pinstripe suit and sporting a slicked back, black, head of hair above a broom of a mustache and his dark brown eyes, Grissom was no stranger to fashion. Renault counts him as one of his closest friends.
"Excellently done, my portly friend." The captain said as he stood from his desk. He had been working on a table-mounted holographic projector that had navigational charts on it. He was planning their next route, which was to the island of Tirbetha, a pirate complex. He whistled and Asphexia looked up from it's perch across the room. It hopped into the air and flapped it's metallic wings, the propellers inside spinning up and giving him flight to reach Renault's shoulder.
"Bah, just a few extra pounds on my bones, I swear." Grissom chuckled. "The crew is awaiting your orders sir."
"Then lets not keep them waiting, shall we?" Renault turned toward the door leading out of the ship and opened it, stepping out onto the balcony that hung above the extravagant cafeteria below. Big enough to seat forty people, each east on the many benches and tables were packed with crew. Grissom came up to the railing and showed everybody just how loud he can be. "AAAAATEEEENSHUUUN CREWWW! CAAAAAAPTAIIIN ON DECK!"
With many plates and foods flying at a few places in the tables, the crew in the cafeteria stood up and saluted. There were plenty that took their dear sweet time with it and others that ignored the fact that they had coffee all over their laps.
"Welcome to the Crimson Dusicyon, crew!" The Captain yelled.
"Now that you are all here, I will tell you the three rules of my ship. One: Take care of each other, you're all you've got! Two: My orders are law! I will not tell you to change who you are or how you operate, but cross me and I'll toss you off the side of the ship! And Three: Enjoy what time you have alive! You might lose it when you least expect it! Now rest up, get what you need from Havanah, and sleep well, for in the morning we are taking off to the pirate haven of Tirbetha. As some of you may have guessed, we have no home base. We're going to solve this dilemma. As ease! The captain nodded as the entire crew lowered their salute and sat back down to eat.
"I think this crew is going to do well. What do you think, Grissom?""I agree, boss. Some are wet behind the ears, but a little live fire training 'ought to teach them what end of the gun fires the explody material. Plus, if that doesn't work, I'm sure that
GeneralFaulkner will kick them in the shins and genitals until they get it through their heads...don't worry. Doctor Bishop will patch them up like new...a few might need new bulk heads though."
"We have to give Teddy and his entourage something to do every now and then, right?" The captain said with a chuckle before he turned back to his quarters and went back to mapping routes and planning their attack while Grissom went down stairs to get his fair share of most of the food.
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"Tirbetha...?" Cyrus thought to himself as he sat back down, looking up to the captain out of the corner of his eye. "Place is a mad house..." he grumbled. "Lots of psychos and mass murderers. Renault better know what he's doing or he's going to get us all killed." He shook his head and dug back into his mashed potatoes and lobster. "Gotta say, the cooks know how to make a damn good meal, they need to learn how to construct better drinks though. Their booze sucks...wait, this is water. Still not Cabernet Sauvignon." Cyrus had been pleasantly surprised by the quality of everything here on the ship, minus the lack of the most expensive wine in the Turquoise expanse. It was almost high class, but the captain made sure that everybody knew that this was no pleasure voyage. The best that he could get from him was that the captain made sure that his people were taken care of. Like a family almost, but not quite. Still a lot better than the rest of his family.
However, he did have that itch in the back of the skull. That premonition that everything was about to go horribly wrong. It itched at his skull like a knife, but he ignored it for the most part. He was too busy enjoying the food. It was really nice food, plus, the cute girl that controlled the artillery of the ship across from him was...well, cute. When she looked up, he gave her a wink.
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