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Captain Henley Marths - The Talk We Had To Have

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((OOC:  A splendid tale of piracy on the high space seas courtesy of @Wil Ukinix & the Veritas!))

((Bridge, SS Somershire))

Tygin: ::smiling her wicked smile:: Octotriticale...::holding up two fingers:: 400,000 tonnes of it...plus enough equipment to start our own farming colony.

Marths: They’re carrying *what*?

Tygin: ::raising a brow:: ...grain...::placing her hands on her hips:: it makes the flour you fry your chicken in. ::taking a breath:: it's 3 bars a ton.

A rare open mouthed smile slowly presented itself on the poultry-fanatic’s face, before he chuckled.  “Octotriticale” was the cutting edge successor to Quintotriticale. Long transportation times in the Shoals along with a lack of suppliers made it a highly valuable commodity. 

Marths: ::Pointing at Elliot:: Finish what you’re doing! ::Looking back at Peregrine, smiling::  No wonder Captain Vodka was protecting it so well.  Fill up as much of our storage areas on the ship as you can.  As quick as you can!  Beam it, carry it, I don’t care, just get it done.

He walked over to Bonus, and then firmly patted him on the shoulder.

Marths: My sources weren’t kidding when they said “juicy cargo”.

Tygin: ::Rubbing her hands together:: Juicy! Cap'n if Chek can give us our standard rate, you could retire.

Marths: oO You are part of my retirement plans, buttercup... you just don't know it yet Oo

Manstead: :: sarcastic. :: Yippee.

Tygin:::Hooking a thumb over her shoulder:: I say we strip this sucker down to the plasma coils, make for Eagle station and live like Kings for a month or seven.

Marths: I’m not sure about retirement just yet, but… this will go a long way.  ::To Peregrine:: Strip whatever will fit into the Wildfire, if we have room.

Manstead: You only have so much cargo space on the ship, captain.

Marths: ::Wicked smile:: Then we’ll put whatever we can into engineering.

Tygin:::offering a mock salute:: Aye Cap'n, number 32 with Chintapa Sauce, coming up.

Manstead: Don’t even think about it, Pear.

Tygin:::smirking:: Relax bubble boy, I'm not gonna hurt anyone, much, just throw a few people into some  life pods. ::smiling:: ill intimate where I can and only bruise who I have to.

Marths: Hey!  ::Walking closer to Tygin:: This haul is going to attract attention as it is.  *Don’t kill anyone*.

Tygin:::growling:: Cap'n, come on let an artist work, you would tell a rainbow to stop being a rainbow or tell a tiger to color in their strips, ::spinning:: such is the Erinyes!

Marths: ::Pointing at Peregrine:: You are as beautiful as your deadly, but don’t think that will stop me beaming you out into space!

Manstead: Oh shut up...

The Marth, without taking his eye of Peregrine, smacked Elliot perfectly on the back of his head.

Tygin:::crossing her arms:: Don't be a punch of party poopers, come on Cap'n this is what we do, we are Pirates.

Marths: “Pirates”?  Don’t use that word!  We’re “brokers”.  With an anarchic supply chain methodology.  *That do not kill unless absolutely necessary*.  If any of the crew tells me that you critically injure or kill someone?  Well, you’d better hold your breath when the transporter cycle starts, buttercup.

And he meant it.  Peregrine already had a black mark next to her name.  Beautiful or not, and as infatuated with Tygin as he was, he only had one *real* true love – his ship.  She came first.

Tygin:::sulking:: No, I want my share of the loot...::clenching her fists:: Fine...I'll be nice ::holding a finger up:: but if one of them back talks me...

Marths: …then slap them in the face.  ::grinning:: Works for me.

Manstead: Just do what he says.

Tygin: ::mock saluting:: Aye, Cap'n! I'll go see to our guests and make them feel all warm'n'safe.

((Galley, Deck 4, SS Wildfire – three hours later))

The fully loaded SS Wildfire was stationary in a harmless, partially obscuring spatial anomaly, and thanks to The Marth’s special CCMS “friend” (in a latinum in a brown paper bag kind of way), no-one would be looking for them anywhere near their location for at least 10 hours.  It gave them time to repair damage to the ship made by the new cloak.

It also gave them time to celebrate…

While tying up the knot on the bandana that The Marth wore on his head (with very small cartoon like chickens imprinted on it), he walked into the packed Galley.  Most of the crew were assembled, talking loudly, eating (crumbed chicken pieces) and drinking from bottles of rum pilfered from the Swishbuckle.  Chef Donovan was madly handing out plates of finger food (chicken Cordon Bleu bites) to several crew, who were distributing them to tables.  There was a raucous, happy atmosphere that could be cut with a phaser. 

The Marth stood up on one of the tables, to the cheers of the crew that were sitting at it.  He picked up a piece of food (chicken puff) from a plate below him.  Taking an exaggerated bite, he then kept walking, moving from table to table until he was standing on a table in the centre of the Galley.  Having quickly *demolished* the chicken puff, he clapped his hands together, then placed his curved palms together over his mouth, speaking through his makeshift megaphone.

Marths: Crewmates!  Crewmates! … ::Loud whistle using teeth::

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

The noise in the room died down to a silence.

Marths: Crewmates…. We are the misfits from the ::finger quotes:: “society” that forgot about us, judged us, exiled us, enslaved us.  But today, we’ve proven… THAT THEY SHOULD UNDERSTIMATE US AT THEIR OWN PERIL!

The sound of a loud cheer with the thumping of tables filled the room, before The Marths lifted his palms to quiet everyone down.

Marths: Some of you are new, and, you know, some of you have been with me since the start.  It’s amazing to think it’s been eleven years since I got my hands on this ship.  We’ve had triumphs, and troubles.  Today has been a busy day.  But after our two raids, not only are our storage areas *completely* full… on both decks... our estimates indicate that, this is has been… ::inhales:: THE MOST VALUABLE HAUL IN THE HISTORY OF THIS SHIP!!!  RECORD PAYMENT TO EVERYONE!!!

The cheers and table banging noises of the crew became ear splitting.

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

He held up his palms again, to quieten the crew.

Marths:  However, ::walking over two tables while speaking:: it’s not been without incident.  ::Standing on table in front of Tygin:: Everyone knows the rules on this ship.  If you have a problem with someone, report it to The Marth, and then between the parties, to resolve the dispute… we organise a fight in this room during supper. So that everyone can watch and bet on the winner. 

There was a short, loud cheer once again from the crew.  For many, watching and gambling on the crew fights were the most enjoyable activity on the ship.
Marths:  But… unfortunately… ::crouching down, eying Tygin, while crew begins to jeer:: someone took matters into their own hands today.

The jeering from the crew turned into a combination of boos, high pitched whistles, thrown chicken bones and several thousand curse words, all directed at Peregrine.

Manstead: Response

Tygin: Response

Marths: ::Ignoring Peregrine:: What Buttercup must understand is that non-compliance with the rules cannot go unpunished.  ::turning to next table:: Zaphoid?

The young crewmate who had been stabbed in the hand by Peregrine made his way over to the table that Marths was perched on.

In one swift move, The Marth unsheathed the small but very sharp cutlass that he always had stowed in his right wrist band.  He threw it up in the air, allowing Zaphoid to catch it by the handle when it fell back to the ground.  The crew around Peregrine forcefully held Tygin in place, making sure her arm and hand couldn’t move.

Tygin: Response

In one quick movement, Zaphoid thrust the cutlass into the top of Peregrine’s hand, which caused the loudest cheer of the night yet from the crew.

Zaphoid: ::To Tygin:: Now we’re even, ya bloody mongrel.

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

The people that were holding Tygin down all enthusiastically patted her on her shoulders – signalling that she had paid her debt and she was “forgiven”, and to thank her for an entertaining spectacle.

Marths: Baby.  Transport Tygin to the First Aid room.

Tygin/Manstead: Responses

“Buttercup” vanished from the Galley in a swirl of sparkles.  Marths then looked at Zaphoid, and punched him as hard as he could on the jaw, sending him to the ground.  There was another loud enthusiastic cheer from the rest of the crew.

While flexing his hand open and shut, Marths stood back up on the table and addressed the room.

Marths: ::Holding out palms:: Wildfire!  Let’s eat and drink into the small hours! We’ve earned it!

A crewmate in the corner of the Galley began to sing loudly.

Crewmate: ::Singing:: In-Sha-dow’s-Edge I-was-born…

Marths began stamping his foot on his table in time with the tune.  It wasn’t long before most of the crew enthusiastically joined in, banging their drinks and fists on their tables, and singing a shanty that was brought to the Shoals and adapted by some of its early Terran settlers.

Marths/Crew: Heave a-way, haul a-way!

Crewmate: In-Sha-dow’s-Edge, a-round An-tor!

Marths/Crew: And-we're bound for Sha-dow’s Eeee-edge...

Crewmate/Marths/Crew: Haul a-way your roll-ing king, heave a-way, haul a-way, HAUL A-WAY, YOU'LL HEAR-ME-SING! And we’re-bound for Sha-dow’s Eeee-edge…

The singing continued as The Marths bent down to retrieve a bottle of rum that was next to his feet.  He took a big swig from it, before smacking his lips together.

There was nothing like “free” rum.  Especially from Bonnie and Clyde.



Henley “The Marth” Marths

Captain and Rum Thief

SS Wildfire


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