The walls echoed with gunfire. Bulkheads ripped apart and electrical lines shot lightning in both directions. Fire consumed the air and the acrid smell of gun powder and blaster fire contaminated it. The smoke and confusion fouled the lighting, making shadows leap and tumble. It was a straight, narrow hallway, but the confusion made it difficult to navigate.

Snipes like the confusion, he lived for it, spinning from the doorway he was hiding in and firing his large pistols at the most solid of shadows before whisking himself back to the safety of the janitors closet. A thick cigarra clenched in his teeth added to the ambiance as he reloaded the high caliber pistols with a smile splitting his face. The wolfish grin that overtook him when he was in the midst of conflict.

“Snipes!” Kami yelled.

“Yeah, I know, responsible and shit,” he said as he fired the weapon around the corner again, “Run, yes, fine, do it.”

The group of five, Kami, Snipes, Merrick and two grunts sprinted down the corridor. Snipes would have rather stayed and fought, but apparently that was bad for business. He was pouting as he piled into one of The Broken Crown's landers. One of Kami's people, a Vasili punched the engines as soon as the rear ramp close and suddenly they were among the stars.

“Well that didn't go so well.” Snipes said as he angrily shoved new bullets into the magazines of Jackal.

“We're still alive, don't worry about it,” Kami said without really sounding like she believed it.

“That planet is now on my 'destroy on sight list'” Snipes said without looking up.

“If you put every planet that doesn't like pirates on that list there will be none left,” Kami was exasperated.

“To the Nine Hells if I care,” Snipes was still pouting and being apathetic.

Kami's only response left was to throw her hands up in frustration. Even without looking at her Snipes could tell she was mad, he didn't really know why; he was a fairly predictable person as far as he was concerned and if anyone had the audacity to shoot at him he was going to hate them of course. How else could he possibly feel about them?

Snipes looked up at Kami and growled, and that was the end of conversation. The small boarding vessel sped into the hanger of The Broken Crown and they exited in silence. Snipes made his way back to the bridge, picking up a bottle of rum in the mess.

Snipes ship broke down frequently and was impossible to find replacement parts for, his crew was lackadaisical and frequently ran out of supplies, but above all else they always had rum and firearms. Snipes was no fool, that was what they needed. Violence and the things that made them incoherent. He would be the last to deny them that. It helped slightly that he needed a constant influx of alcohol just to feel normal.

* * *

“Kami, we made all of Jack and Shit off that last venture. Since it's probably my fault I've decided to blame you.”

Kami's face went blank, “Yeah, thanks.”

Snipes wasn't being entirely serious; the company was in a bad place and he knew it, the addition of their outpost on Skye had left the coffers somewhat less than full; however it was Snipes way to make light of it. If he couldn't fill their pockets he hoped he could, at least, keep the mood light. It wasn't really all that long ago they'd been little more than a group shiftless, lazy brigands living off instant burritos and cheap beer. They'd been the college kids of piracy.

Snipes sighed, he lounged in one of the padded hardwood chairs with a view of the lake in the manse he had somehow acquired as part of the Skye outpost, “I really have no idea what we're going to do next. If I sell this very nice lakeside home how long would it pay for the upkeep of The Company?”

“About half a day.”

“Well bollocks to that.”

Snipes turned his gaze back to Kami as cigarette smoke curled about his face, “Any ideas?”

He could tell by the look on her face she'd been waiting all day to divulge some scheme or another, possibly too politically complex for the generally listless and lazy king.

“Yes, actually.”

“I knew it!”

Kami continued, ignoring his interruption, “There is a group of pirates, on just the other side of the next system. My contacts say they have something, something of immense value.”

“Rumors are worth the spit in my mouth,”

Kami gave him a look of irritation, “From the description it's Crusader technology, but nothing we've ever seen. Fury would fund a whole campaign for it.”

Snipes let it sink in for a moment, a whole campaign of chaos on someone else's dime, now that would be a beautiful thing. Then he looked up, “You've already asked him, haven't you?”

“Of course”

“So just a couple systems away, out of VE territory. Money to be made. Alright, fine. Let's blow some shit up and steal some shit.”

Kami just looked at him blankly. She could tell he wasn't really thinking right now, he was saying yes because he was reaching the end of the wits that had seen them through trial and hardship. In the end it wasn't the bad parts of life that were killing Osk, it was the day to day monotony that were killing their King. Without excitement and adventure Snipes was little more than an empty husk acting on auto-pilot.

* * *

Snipes collapsed in the large four poster bed, he watched it spin around him and he just didn't care. He was drunk and he was bored. Osk was not the thing of trial and chaos and difficulty it had been. He had driven off fanatical zealots on adrenaline and blood-lust and charisma, but now without such dire circumstances he didn't know how to act. For all the hurt and insult he had taken from The Crusaders and all the horrors they had inflicted on him, they had driven him by making him act emotionally. Without that emotional drive he didn't know what to do.

He had lost friends, too. The Warhammer had disappeared, Jegora was Prefect now, Angel was lost to the solar flares. His friends were leaving him. Kami remained and in these recent days Ron the Random and Havock had been more reliable than friends of days long past.

Snipes looked from his chambers window across a lake walled by green mountains, seeing the occasional Osk ship rocket in or out of atmosphere from the hidden base across the lake and over the mountain. He looked upon this view and wondered what Osk was going to be.

If all else fell away, however, he would remain and if these pirates held crusader technology he felt it was his right to have it for they had done irreparable harm to him and his beloved people.

Amid the cheering, laughing, and general drunken revelry, Ron found himself completely surrounded on all sides.  He had only one good eye; the other had been punched out of commission hours ago; so with his good one, he took stock of the situation.  Starboard, he held a black haired wench firmly about her waist using the hinge of his arm; upon trying his fingers, he discovered them clenched about a leg of meat and buried deep in her breasted furrow.  Ron squinted his eyes and looked up at hers which were lined in black and were red as any bloody sunrise.  He looked port side to another wench; this one was blonde and passed out beyond any noticing of Ron's.  In that hand, he held a bottle which, by weighted feel, was all but empty of the brew that it once contained.

Comforted with the knowledge that he was not beset by enemies, but by allies, Ron slowly looked for'ard, lifting his head slowly until he saw before him a great bearded man.  This particular brute  seemed to have an affinity for the number one, for beyond all reckoning the man had but one eye, one hand, one leg, and one half of his teeth; what remained were stumps and rotten semblances of their partners. 

With the greatest effort, Ron extended a greeting in the politest way he could,

"Der hell der ye want?"

The bearded brute massaged his knuckled fist in the palm of this other hand and roared back,

"Fer you ter get yer hands off me wife!"

Ron looked from side to side and sighed with frustration.

"Me hands are on me bottle and me fodder, you fekker."

At this, the man reached down and grabbed Ron by the collar and lifted him up.  His hand, once cocked back, now released fully into Ron's port cheek.  Ron fell hard to the floor, and rolled onto his back, taking a swing at his enemy’s legs as he did so.

"Fire!" Ron yelled.  The man yelled in pain and fell over, grabbing for anything to use as a weapon.

"Turn about!" Ron called to himself.  He turned around and grabbed at some silverware that had fallen off a table in the fray. 

"Reload!  Fire at will!" And with strange accuracy, one by one, Ron threw the assortment of knives, forks, and spoons at his adversary; which, while doing little harm, enraged him to the point that he picked Ron up completely by the collar and belt and threw him out the window of the tavern.

He lay in the street way amid the broken glass and puddled water.  How long ago had it been when he had been on a raid?  Where had the days gone when he had a ship, crew, and the whole of space before him unpoliced and completely profitable?  He had long since pawned off the Fortunato, said his farewells to his crew, and had spent the rest of his time barhopping from inn to inn.  Now he was all out of treasure, all out of the splits of his profit from his Osking days.  What he would do to fight for the Mad Pirate King again!

"Cap'n?"

He heard the voice of Nova long before she rolled him over so that he could see her with his eyes.  She was unchanged since he last saw her, still had her fire-red hair and pilot's hat.  She looked fresh, unspoiled.  Ready to fight.

"Aye" he mumbled.  "Ready the port engines."  The bottle that he pulled to his mouth made a soft scraping noise on the pavement as he moved it to his bleeding lips, only to discover that it was actually broken at the bottom. 

"And get me more o' this."

"Cap'n where the feck have you been?"  Nova exclaimed.  She pulled him up to a sitting position, and handed him a bottle she had on her.

"Ah, that's good." Ron took another swig of the briny stuff before replying to his old pilot.  "What do ye think I've been doin'?" he said.  "I've no ship, no crew, no king but meself now!"

Nova lifted him up to his feet and put his arm about her shoulder.  "I've got her back, Cap'n, the Fortunato.  She's yours if you'll have her."

Ron looked at Nova with intoxicated wonder.  "How'd ye get her back?"

"I stole her." she said.

"Ah." Ron said to himself.  "I should've done that."  He looked over to her dramatically with a swing of his head.  "Take me to her."

They stumbled their way to the hangar she had docked it in, which was fortunately not too far off from where Ron had been drinking.  She entered the code which released the blast door, and with a hiss it was gone; revealing the pile of spacetrash behind it.

Inside everything was as Ron remembered it.  The familiar walkways, the cargo room, sleeping quarters, and finally the cockpit.  Ron sat in the chair beside the pilot's, nostalgia and hunger for plunder rushing over him.  Nova walked over to him and handed him a brown, burnt, bloodstained captain’s hat.  He put it on and looked at his own reflection in the blastglass before him.  For a moment he appeared less like a slovenly drunk, and more like a privateer captain. 

With sudden and strange control in his very inebriated state, he slowly turned back to Nova and smiled a toothy grin.

"Will ye fly with me, Nova?"

"Aye aye, Cap'n." she replied.

OOC:

Good enough to start with.  And it's good to be back.  Felt I needed to show what Ron has been up to all this time- it should come as no surprise to most of you.  Looking fo'ard to the story!

“Hail that son-of-a-bitch, Baillo,” Gates grunted at his pilot. The man did as he was ordered, and the comlink opened to the freighter before them, its engines burning space as it tried to escape the Pirate Captain and his minions.

Bounty work always paid well, and it tended to pay even better if he was running people down for ICS instead of Osk. He didn’t care who wrote his paycheck, Osk or ICS, as long as he got paid and he got to do what he wanted.

“Look,” Gates said into the link, his words directed at the fleeing freighter. “The Company knows you stole that ship. Now be a good boy and cut your engines before we catch up and have to paint the walls o’ the ship red with your blood.”

“Gates, let’s just shoot his engines out,” crackled a voice from one of his other gunships - Joamer. He’d only recently taken the man on as his Underling, but he knew the man had skills that’d help him and Osk.

“We get a bonus if we can take him down without damaging the ship unduly,” Gates pointed out. “And we’ll catch him soon.”

“Cap, my sensors indicated he’s leaving the gravity well in a minute in a half at full-burn,” said the pilot of his third gunship, a man named Coll. “We’ll close to boarding range in a hundred and fifteen seconds.”

“It’ll be close, in other words. Baillo, can we catch him?”

“Barely. We’ll close to range in a minute, but that’s just range. Then we have to match vectors and try to latch on. In other words, it’ll be close. It’ll be damn close.”

Gates nodded grimly and clenched his fists. Baillo reached over and gripped the throttle controls, blinking sweat from his eyes. They were already running at 120% spec, and despite some of the crew’s tinkerings, they couldn’t keep the pace up for that long.

“Prepare for boarding,” Gates yelled down the hall as they inched closer, the ship shuddering as its engines propelled it forwards. In the passenger compartments, his team of ex-soldiers and mercs got up from their lounging positions and readied weapons and body armor.

Gates unlimbered a shotgun from his back, specially modified to fire shells that were guaranteed not to punch a hole in a hull and kill everyone aboard.

Ten seconds before they got within range of a docking clamp, the freighter began to take evasive maneuvers and popped out a laser cannon and started taking shots at them.

“Is that standard for this type of ship?” asked Gates as his H-6 began shaking from the hits.
“It was a custom-order; that’s why ICS wants it back,” Baillo said, shrugging. They juked past a particularly heavy burst of laser fire, then tried barrelling in again.

“Time to their escape?” Gates asked.

“Ten seconds.”

“Shit. Start computing possible jump locations based on current heading. All they can do with this sort of run is a straight jump and hope they’ve got a faster hyperdrive.”

Seconds slipped past, but his gunships couldn’t slip any closer and tack onto the freighter. It flickered once, right before their eyes, and jumped into hyperspace, leaving Gates and his crew in a rut.

“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Joamer quipped.

“Damn right. We should’ve taken them on the ground,” Gates sighed.

“We have a vector, Captain,” said his navigator, a woman named Jeska. “Plugging the vectors in now.”

“Get us into lightspeed, then,” Gates said. “We’ll nail this bastard to the wall and collect on what’s ours.”

The air ducts were a tight fit, but there was very little that could hold back the wiry little man that currently was engaged in brawling an unidentifiable substance that clogged the narrow metal tunnel. It was dusty, incredibly dusty, with waves of gray matter billowing off in random directions as he tussled with the mass. Silently, he breathed a prayer of relief for his forethought to bring a mask on this particular trek, making a mental note to add it to his pre-mission checklist.

He settled back onto his haunches as he took a break, pausing to reassess the situation. Absently, he reached up and fingered his goggles, his gloves creating trails along the dust covered lenses, prompting him to reach up and properly clean them once he realized. The air duct was mostly clear, with the unknown mass mostly dispersed into the dusty air. He pushed past it, heading towards a bend in the tunnel. Stopping there, he glanced back, gauging the distance from the last bend to the current one. Believing that he had accurately measured it, he flicked his eyes to the corner and blinked, the advanced technology within the goggles allowing him to bring up a measuring device. He grinned as it matched up almost perfectly with his estimate, only off by a few feet.

Reaching down, he extracted a pen and paper from a pocket and added the latest stretch onto a rough map of the air ducts. He planned on spending a while on the ship, and wanted to be prepared for most anything. Satisfied with his markings, he returned the items to one of his  many pockets and resumed his movement.

It was some time later when he emerged from the ducts into his room, dropping down from the opening into the ceiling. Dropping to a crouch to absorb the impact, he drug a crate over and replaced the ceiling tile, making sure not to securely close it, in case he needed to make a quick escape. He took a seat on the crate, glancing around at his room, if it could even be called that. There was quite a bit of space on the ship, but the captain, a woman called Havock by most, insisted that he take the cabin as his room. If it could even be called a cabin.

Most of the lighting that lined the outer edges of the ceiling was broken. The only intact lights were endlessly flickering, casting the room into an ever-changing mass of shadows, endless and uncertain. The cabin had been emptied of most anything that would make the occupation of the room bearable. Crates filled the floorspace, implying that the room had been converted into a storage room. The only non-crate thing that had been in the room when he had arrived had been a half broken sink in the corner, the formerly white porcelain tinged green and black with mold. It had been quickly chucked out the nearest airlock, followed by half a dozen broken crates that had been found in his newly acquired room. The room was small and uninviting, the walls painted in a uniform shade of dark gray that only enhanced the shadows.

Havock had had an amused look on her face when she showed it to him, a grin that seemed to say “I’m Captain and I can do whatever the hell I want to those who I don’t like. And I don’t like you.” It was obviously meant as a punishment, designed to get him off the ship as quickly as possible. They apparently were apathetic enough that they didn’t care enough to force him off the ship, but decided to simply make his time there unbearable.

He loved it. It was the perfect fit for him, and he knew it. Another grin floated across his face as he realized that Havock still was unaware of just how much of a favor she had done when she had handed him the room. He chuckled, amused at the situation.

He stood up and strolled over to a crate with a strange symbol marked on it. The symbol would mean nothing to most other people, but to him, it meant food. The crate held his supply of foodstuffs, pilfered from various places all over the ship. He had stockpiled quite a few things, obtaining them from both on the ship and in the markets in the various places they happened to land. The room was a great deal more comfortable than it had been when he had first arrived. A mattress, covered with some sheets lay in the corner, next to a refresher that he had installed a few days after moving in. A footlocker was seated beside his mattress, filled with the things he considered valuable. He hesitated for a moment, wanting to open it up and go through his things, but he decided against it. His gaze resumed moving across the rooms. Two crates separated from the rest were in a corner, the symbol on them denoting their use as a place for his rather decent collection of books. Again, he paused, wanting to continue reading a particularly interesting book that he had begun reading a few days earlier. He waved away the thought.

Just then, the ship shook, a shudder passing in a wave through the ship. Aero was an experienced pilot and, as he felt the shudder, knew instinctively that they had exited hyperspace.

With a quick movement, he came to his feet, talking quietly to himself, “Might as well go see what I can do.”

"Hmmm, the calibration is off." Bright mumbled to herself as she watched the lancing bolts of  light crash against the Merciless's shields. Silently she wondered where she had gone wrong in her calculations. “Maybe if I tweak the....” Her voice faded as she turned to exit the bridge with a strange glint in her violet eyes.

“Rain,” Havock said from her position on the deck. When the red head turned, the blond captain gave her a narrow-eyed glare. “We're going to have a little chat when we're done here.” She inclined her head toward the scene out the large viewport.

Something inside Bright twisted. There were times when that woman could put an expression on her face and scare the weapons specialist out of her current train of thought. Mostly it was when Havock got one of her hair-brained ideas, that nearly got herself killed. Bright had never really been on the receiving end of that look for any reason. Well, except that one time when she'd showed up in the convoy on Thyveck, and then it was because she had made the woman believe that she was dead for six months.

Plastering a cheery smile on her face, Bright nodded, “Of course, Boss.” She said.  In the back of her mind, Bright always knew that Joamer was off doing things she was sure she wouldn't like, but she'd never said anything because she knew that he would simply continue to do them. Now she knew, and now he knew where she had been disappearing to. She sighed at the predicament she found herself in.

Shaking her head to clear it, she decided to get back to what she was doing. “If I tweak the output calibrators I can increase the overall fire power.” She muttered making her way to a computer terminal that fed into the weapons systems.

“Why would you want to do that?” A too excited voice said from behind her.

Inwardly Bright groaned. Trix had taken to following her around from almost the moment she had decided to stay on the Bitch. Most of the time she didn't mind in the least. Curiosity wasn't a crime, but Trix's incessant questions had begun to wear on her lately.  Still, Bright was almost glad for the distraction. “Because Jae likes shooting at things, and she likes it even more when she blows her targets into oblivion.” She answered absently.

“But wouldn't that mean that your fiance would be dead right now if the power feed was at maximum?” Trix asked leaning against the bulk head beside the terminal. Her brown eyes seemed to be looking at Bright in a different light, a small frown on her features.

Bright's insides twisted again in an all to familiar way. Pushing the feeling away she pursed her lips and continued to work. Bright knew that Joa hadn't really been in any real danger, even if Jae was the one who had been shooting. More than any of the other crew on this Gods forsaken vessel, Bright trusted two people more than anybody else: Jaenna and Havock.

Finally she finished her recalibration and commed up to Jae. “How is she firing now, Jae?” She asked.

She felt the ship rock again and heard a string of curses. “Take that you mother fu--” Bright swiftly turned of the com feed looking over at Trix.

Unable to take the staring any longer she stared at the other woman. “Jae knew what she was doing and I trust her not to blow him out of the sky.” She said walking back towards the bridge. Trix followed with her arms crossed over her chest.

Dodging another round of fire from Jaenna he swore again as he tried to keep his ship moving constantly. He was pretty sure nearly everyone here was trying to kill him, even one of his allies were openly trying to blast him out of the sky. Finishing a turn he swore as he realized he was along side the Broken Bitch. Thinking quickly he chopped the throttle to almost nothing and simply eased his bomber into the small cargo bay. Grimacing he felt something go crunch under his landing struts as he unhooked himself from the seat harness.

Rushing out of the small airlock he sprinted across the bay and nodded to a few of the more bewildered crew members. Thankfully one of them recognized him and decided not to open fire instantly. Skidding into the passage way he stopped and looked around for a moment, walking slowly towards the bridge he ducked into a small room as he saw Havock march towards what he assumed was the armory. Waiting for a moment he rushed down the hallway then stopped as he saw a familiar body turned away from him.

Walking up quietly he placed his arms around Bright's shoulders before kissing her lightly behind the ear. "Tell Ayme her shields are acting wonky with all the shooting Jae is doing, I was able to board her ship that way. Also your crew is really traitorous, they should of shot at me instead of just letting me walk right in. Anyways, gotta go babe people to shoot and all that." Stepping back he grabbed Bright's ass once before running down the hall as fast as he could.

Slowing down slightly he spotted Havock in the armory and said "Hey Ayme, bye Ayme!" He did not wait for a response as he ran back into the cargo bay and boarded his ship. Slapping the door controls he jumped into the pilot's chair as he eased power into the repulsorlifts and shot back into space again.

Dodging a very vicious round of fire from somewhere behind him he angled around to where the Death's Skull was making a nuisance of itself, or trying to at least. He knew the annoyance Garryl was having being unable to simply open fire on the freighter they had been chasing for some time now. Even worse was the fact the King had to crash the party with his own freighter and bag full of annoyances.

"Honey, I really am going to hurt you for that one." A subdued sweet voice said over the comlink a few moments later. He grinned as he pictured Havock and Bright together standing over the comlink.

"No, you see I'm hurting him first. Coming on my blasted ship, all to have a bit of grabass before running out again? Jaenna shoot him for me damn it! Stop fraking missing all the time!" Havock shouted, he cut off the comlink as he heard more shouting coming from the Broken Bitch.

Dropping his bomber in behind one of the enemy fighters he figured enough time had gone by for some fun. Keying his lasers over to full power he squeezed the trigger and watched as the lone fighter was engulfed in energy bolts before exploding into nothing.

Keying the frequency between him and Garryl he said, "Merciless to Death's Skull, phase one complete. Begin phase two on your orders. Merciless standing by."

Merrick was outwardly calm despite her inner frustration at Snipes accepting and starting a mission without her around. Not only was she supposed to make sure he didn’t get himself killed, but she was supposed to keep an eye on him for other reasons; particularly on ICS funded jaunts. She silently cursed herself for not realising he’d take her absence as an opportunity to do something silly. He was, after all, predictable in many ways. When Fury had contacted her about Osk’s acceptance of the latest gig, she’d taken her ship out of the hangar and left immediately despite the numerous refits and augmentations still pending. She was tired of waiting to get her ship back and it was becoming an epic drain on her finances. Even in its current state it’d be one of the best ships in the company. She smiled in anticipation of its reception by the Captains. That would just about make it worth the time and the money, she reckoned.

Clear of the station where her ship had been housed, Merrick punched the co-ordinates Fury had supplied into the hyperspace terminal and shot out of VE space. Folding her arms behind her head she reclined in the pilot seat and watched the light show. She ran through in her head a list of all the things she had packed for the coming battle and grimaced a few times. If resistance was any heavier than expected, they could be in trouble. She hoped that Snipes hadn’t armed himself with too few comrades but knew deep down that he’d have jumped at the chance to leave most of the Company behind after everything they’d been through lately. Not to mention his feelings about the ones who had ‘abandoned’ him in recent times. She wondered idly if she was on that list in his head, but shrugged it off and focused on the controls as the ship dropped out of hyperspace.

It looked as though the intelligence hadn’t been entirely accurate and Snipes had, as feared, believed this to be an easy job. The four or five Osk ships faced a couple of freighters that had either had time to call for help or had been expecting an ambush and brought along an escort of well armed ships. Run by pirates, like Osk, the ships were a mixture of everything from small modified fighters to hulking, decaying flag ships and battle cruisers. She swore under her breath and searched the mess of ships and weapons fire for Snipes’ craft. She spotted the Loose End among the chaos and hailed the little ship.

“What the hell do you want, I’m busy here! And who is this?”
Merrick folded her arms and waited for Snipes to look at the image produced by the link on his end.
“Oh. Hiya Merrick. Come to join the fun. Whose ship is that?”
She ignored his questions. “Nice of you to invite me. Thought of retreating and regrouping?” This got the expected response and she sighed. “Good thing I brought some help I guess.” She had to smile at the confusion on his face until the three mercenary ships she’d brought along with her exited hyperspace to her rear. She saw his eyes flick to the console in front of him and he grunted before cutting the commlink. Transmitting orders to her temporary companions, she and the three of them joined the battle. Merrick carefully placed her ship between Snipes and the most dangerous enemy ships while the guns for hire went about destroying or disabling them. She’d quickly hailed each of the other Osk ships to prevent them attacking the new arrivals as well, and her comms hadn’t been silent long before Snipes hailed her ship again. Despite her mild surprise, she answered the call.
“Is that ship a..?”
She interrupted Snipes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Which one’s got what we want anyway? And I suppose you will insist on leading the boarding party.”
He named the smaller of the two cargo ships and waited while she transmitted the information to her employees before he spoke again. “Fury sent you right?” Merrick merely nodded. “Right. Who are you and where’s my head of security?”
This time she couldn’t help but smile which seemed to put Snipes off a little. “I’m her angry twin, your highness.”
He ignored the last part of the sentence, dripping as it was with sarcasm. “Fair enough, sorry I didn’t wait for you I guess. That’s what you get for disappearing. So what do you call that clearly not an infiltrator ship you seem to have acquired without my knowledge?”
She responded with a single word before cutting the link again. “Straggler."

----

Between the mercenaries and the few Osk ships eventually the rival pirate convoy had either been reduced to debris or disabled and left to float in space. The cargo ships had been detained and boarding parties were being mounted for both ships, just in case their quarry wasn’t where Snipes expected it to be. Distrusting as she was of everyone in general but particularly the mercenaries, Merrick had advised Snipes to split the parties so that the other Osk members boarded one ship and he, Merrick and the strangers the other. She felt much more comfortable ordering them around herself than trusting them to follow Havock or Ron’s orders. She would pay them at the close of the mission, after all. Snipes of course insisted his gurrcat Fury accompany them as well. She merely rolled her eyes and readied herself to board the lead mercenary ship before the party went over to the freighter. Even with the hired guns to bulk up the party she took both blaster pistols, a rifle and her axe as well as some grenades and various other little surprises. After the unexpectedly large number of ships they’d run into, she didn’t want to be outgunned by the freighter’s crew.

Aboard the mercenary flagship Scabber Merrick introduced Snipes to the troupe’s leader, Melstan. He was a tall and dark skinned human, significantly scarred on almost every visible section of skin and carrying a heavy repeating blaster, several blaster pistols and more knives than anyone other than a chef should have. He nodded approvingly at the axe slung across her back and nudged Merrick with a well muscled arm. “Good to see a gal who likes to kill ‘em up close.” She kept her face impassive as he grinned broadly at her then introduced the rest of his team. Merrick forgot all their names straight away. She or Snipes would give him orders and he could deal with his own men and women however he deemed fit.

The impatience radiating off Snipes led her to ask, “So are we going to step off any time soon or just stand around and chat?”
Melstan laughed hugely and ushered everyone toward the cargo bay doors. After a brief argument between Merrick and Snipes over who would get to enter the ship first, the doors opened and the party entered the freighter’s hangar. Instead of the expected resistance, they were greeted by a huge, dark expanse strewn with ship parts and junk. The doors leading to the rest of the ship were wide open and apparently unguarded. Merrick exchanged a look with Melstan and shrugged before following Snipes and Fury, already headed for the nearest entrance.

Snipes exhaled a plume of smoke, another in just as many minutes. In one hand was the Frontier Model B, in the other was Thunder God, his modified 8 gauge shotgun. Snipes rarely wielded small weapons, many of the ones he used as a pistol were firearms that required two hands from most, but he was tall and strong and full of hate.

As the hatches opened Snipes dove into the small frieghter. When no immediate resistance was met he stopped and scratched his head with the front sight of his Model B. Well this was an interesting turn of events. Fury looked equally as confused, the large feline looking from side to side with his lips curled back, he was as ready for blood as Snipes.

The freighter gave them two choices. Left or Right. Snipes decided on left since it was closest to the heart, and he really wanted to shove a chunk of jagged steel into thiers, exploding lead would suffice. So, with little adieu they stepped to the left, Snipes with swagger and a devil-may-care attitude, piece by piece criticizing the vessel in his head. Snipes wasn't looking at a logical layout of the small vessel, just whim and fancy.

That was what brought them to the first test. The first test being three beings with guns, one rodian, one bothan and a rather misplaced trandoshan. It had just looked like the corridor was going to open up into something that wasn't a boring ass corridor when, suddenly, people with guns appeared. Snipes, as a king, was thoroughly annoyed by this. Thunder God lived up to it's name, echoing thunder down the hallway as he fired it.

“Fury!” Snipes yelled.

The gurrcat was nothing if not compliant. Snipes was fast, he could move like greased lightning, but Fury was a wonder to behold, moving so quickly that Snipes eyes could not keep up. Merrick's team took standard military responses. Snipes stood in a nook of architecture and watched Fury play.

“Merrick, this was a horrible idea.”

“oh?”

“Yep, I plan to kill all of them now,” Snipes said, as he watched Fury dance among them.

Then there was the crack of a flechette and Snipes saw blood fly from Fury, Snipes yelled and dove. What transpired after that is a question for the ages, but the Thunder God rang, Snipes pistol was lost and the rusted out cutlass ended up in his left hand as he did his own dance.

With blood splattered halls and gurgling corpses Snipes lit a cigarette and shoved the cutlass back in his sash. Merrick’s group had kept him alive, he knew that, cover his back. He, however, had been the one the enemy had seen, and in the end he had saved the cat, and really that was what he cared about. Then again, there was a good deal of money somewhere in this tiny ship. Somewhere, but the locals had made it clear, they knew the lay of the land, they had home-field advantage and Osk didn't have the element of surprise anymore.

OOC:

It's short and I'm drunk, sue me.

It was annoyingly quiet, the Broken Bitch brigade only coming across a merc every few times they turned a new corner. It wasn't like both of the freighters weren't alerted to the presence of the Pirates. Though, it was starting to seem like the grand ol' King was having all of the fun, stirring up his own cauldron of mayhem. With each step they took, and each time that step didn't lead them to another thing or person to shoot, their faces continued to contort into even more obvious annoyance. Each time they turned a corner, it was luck if they ran into a merc, and even better luck if they ran into more than just one. It didn't make it any better when the seldom person they came across was taken down with ease that would terrify any sane person.

"This is so BORING!" Came the snarling shout from the woman grumbling with a DC-15 in her hand. Her good eye was narrowed, and her nose was wrinkled, shoulders slumped as if she were a moody teenager.

Ayme came up next to her, an annoyed expression all her own plastered to her face. "Yeah... this is pretty frakkin' lame."

"I just wanna kill some gorram bastards." Another grumble slipped from between Jae's lips as she huffed and stomped her foot on the ground. "It's not faaaiiirrrr!" She said in a mock-whiny voice, her bottom lip quivering slightly as she pouted at Ayme.

Bright couldn't help the chuckle from coming forth as she holstered her own chosen pistol and come up behind Jae, placing her hands on the one-eyed woman's shoulders. She leaned close and said, teasingly, "Well you're the master of ridiculousness, so why don't you think of a way to make this fun, huh?" She stepped away, crossing her arms with a please look on her face as she leaned back against the wall of the hallway. She remained quiet, waiting for her words to click.

With the lack of mercs that were in the general area the Broken Bitch team decided to stop for a moment, it was easy for everyone to relax, at least for the moment. Bird Millie both stared at Jae, brows quirked as they also waited the inevitable crazy idea that would pop into her head within the next fewmoments. Bright just continued to smile to herself, and Ayme stood next to Jae, head cocked to the side as she also waited for the idea to come.

Jae's eye widened, then, as she watched a helper droid round the corner, screech in fright of the Oskers, and then turn around to run away. "Oohhhhh yeah." A devil's grin crossed her lips as she whipped out her datapad, and began clicking away. "RIVVETT!" The shout rang through the halls, and within half a moment the slicer droid come rolling up next to Jae.

"Geeze. He sure is obedient." Millie mused, chuckling slightly.

Rivvett looked to the woman and sighed, his ape-like rump appendage twitching slightly. "The woman terrifies me, I'd be stupid not to listen."

Bright let out a soft but of laughter. "Hey, the droid's got a point there."

Despite the laughter that seemed to take over the small team, Jae was far too taken by the slicer muses to even pay the slightest bit of attention. Instead, she pulled a wire from her datapad, connected it to the back of Rivvett's neck and continued to click away. "Frequency... Finding... Frak... Back door. Shotty frakking coding. What idiots..." The mumbling of broken phrases continued to slip from the woman as her face went through a wide range of expressions, each beep seeming to entice a different emotion to show. "HAH! Found it. Rivvett, download and connect."

"Yes, Jaenna."

There were a few more beeps and Jae went back to mumbling to herself for a few more moments, until finally, her eyes shot open and a wide grin found its way to her face. "Theerrreee we go." As the last syllable left her lips, there was a shout from down the hall, followed by what sounded like the screeching of a droid.

"THEY'RE REBELLING. THE DROIDS ARE REBELLING." The shout had come from a frantic merc who came running down the hall, stopping dead, with fright evident on his face, as his path was suddenly blocked by the Broken Bitch crew. His lips contorted into rage as he drew his rifle from the sling on his back and readied it to fire. "This is your fault you dammed, dirty pir-" and he was down, speech cut off by the burning hole that was left in his face from the bolt that had been fired from Ayme's new two.

The others looked to her, brow quirked. "What? I took a shower today. He doesn't get to call me dirty." She responded with a shrug and an innocent smile. "Anyways, Jae, ya done?"

"ALMOST." She shouted as she was busy bouncing about, datapad still in hand. She suddenly stopped, half crouched and ready to bounce again as the widest smile spread from ear to ear. "Annnnnnd boom." With the final word, a terribly annoying alarm began to blast its way through the entire ship, followed by a thick foam that began to fall from the ceiling. "Now I'm done." She bounced that last time, and pocketed her datapad, a goofy smile on her face as she now stood with her hands behind her back and her hips swaying from side to side in mock innocence.

"Was the foam necessary?" Bird grumbled, shoulders slumped as foam began to gather on his head.

"Everything I do is necessary." The glare that Jae sent flying his way caused him to straighten right up, and turn away from the narrowed sea-foam eye.

Ayme chuckled, shaking her head free of the foam that had gathered there. "Alright, mayhem achieved. Let's go." Just as she finished and turned to continue towards the command center, she was greeted with a wave of terrified of foam covered mercs. "Well, the flush worked. 'Bout time this fun starts."

The foam continued to rain down on everyone, and yet it seemed like only the crew was annoyed. Everyone else on the ship seemed to be enjoying the chaos that the one-eyed woman had started. Not only was foam raining down, but there were also small helper droids going nuts, spinning around, running into things and even pinching and burning the crew members. It was a funny site, one that would definitely be in Jae's mind for a while. Well... at least until she went back to the cantinas on Eyesore and lost herself in the many, many types of liquor she could consume.

The crew members were nothing to the crew of the Broken Bitch, considering most of them were occupied with trying to break the lock Jae had set on the foam heads, and trying to get control over the droids. So the ragmatag group continued on down the maze of hallways, looking for the control room.

"Havock where the hell are we going?" The voice came from Bird, who was trying, in obvious vain, to keep his face clear of foam. He had his small pistol drawn, ready to defend himself against any angry crew member that came at him.

The dirty blonde was answered with staggered chuckles, Jae coming up behind him and slapping his back, throwing him off balance. As he caught himself from falling on his ass and thus in a huge puddle of foam, he grumbled softly. He and Jae have never really been the best of pals, what with Jae always picking on him. "We're headin' to the control room ya idiot. He clearly doesn't listen, Ayme. Why ya still deal with him?"

"Same reason I still deal with you, honey." Havock's voice was laced with mock hate and a ting of faux-bitch. "I kind like you. Maybe." As she chuckled, the others joined with their scattered 'Ooohhhsss' or plain laughter. But of course, all good moments have to come to an end and the stop sign for this one was the group of four crew members came around the corner.

The one who seemed to be the highest ranked stepped forward, a blaster raised and a determined look on his. Jae found it funny that his hands were shaking, however and released a small chuckle. "You guys gonna do something?"

"Yeah, we're going to take our ship back."

The one-eyed woman scoffed, taking a step forward with her shoulders raised. "Says who, exactly, little man?" The woman didn't even bother aiming her pistol at the man, her confidence was obvious and seemed to resonate around the entire area, echoing off the walls and causing the type of high-pitched sound that only high caliber asshats like her could hear.

The man took a step back as he fumbled with his pistol as if he had suddenly forgotten how to use it. The show enticed a few more chuckles to come forth from the pirate crew, only making the four frigate crew members red in the face from their growing frustration. "W-we are!" The man stuttered, just making everyone else laugh again.

"Yeah okay, baby." Jae chuckled yet again, but this time the four crew members had apparently had enough: her chuckle was answered with a blast bolt flying by her head and striking Bird in the arm. Within seconds the four men were dropped, Jae's, Bright's, Havock's and Millie's pistols all raised and charging down from the shots that had been fire. "Aw. I liked them, too."

After the... 'skirmish' the crew was back on the way towards the control room. They make their way through the foam filled hallways, by the spinning droids, step over bodies of men who had been attacked and killed by the rebelling droids or the more ridiculous death of slipping on the foam and cracking their heads open. It was a strange and rather comical walk from where they had been to the control room, but once they were there they took positions around the room to make sure no one would come in and try to mess with what had to go down.

"Alrighty, lets do this shit." Jae pulled out her data pad, set it down next to the terminal screen and went about her hobby. She pulled off a panel of steel, hooked up a few choice wires to her datapad. This was her love, it was her hobby, it was what she enjoyed doing so naturally it got done pretty fast. It took only minutes for her to get into the system, find the back door, establish the full link and hit the lock down button. The sound of the engines powering down echoed through the entire frigate, the foam finally stopped and all of the droids were shut down. Another moment passes and the good Ol' King would hear the Slicer's voice ring through the ship he was on.

"It's dead. Let us know if ya need us over there." Jae laughed and closed the com connection.