Pool grunted to signify he heard Sid and started scanning the room for the X that marked the spot. He didn't see anything at first, annoyed by having to play this guy's game. Who'd he think he was, anyway? Pool still wasn't sure who Paisley might have been, but Paisley sure seemed to know him. Finally, his eyes fell on the portrait of the  mustachioed gentleman with an eyepatch. Pool didn't recognize him, either. Seemed like he didn't take any shit. Pool liked him immediately, but got the feeling he wasn't a good guy.

"This guy looks like a pirate." Pool took a closer look at the painting, which seemed pretty unremarkable but for the unbeknownst-to-Pool-but-knownst-to-us genocidal maniac known as Joseph Stalin. "Maybe he's not a pirate. Looks like somebody painted the eyepatch on after." Pool scratched his stubble. "Let's see here..." He lifted the painting off of its hook to get a look at the back.

Cooper was silent while Pele deliberated if she should come along to find the crew. His eyes were still lost in a thousand-yard stare. He burst out of the ship once his crewmate decided she was a better fit to do the talking. The mechanic wasn't inclined to disagree at the moment. His disagreeableness might have been understandable, but no matter the context it's probably unnerving to watch a coworker come within an inch of beating someone to death with a hammer in front of you.

But once outside, Mr Brown looked around, confusion breaking through his stony expression. They were in the forest. He can fly, he can turn a wrench, he can fight. But Cooper Brown spent the first two thirds of his life on spaceships. ONLY spaceships. Coop never set foot on the ground until he joined the war. What was he even supposed to do? All sense of landmarks was lost to him. It was just a sea of green.

"Umm ... shit. What uh...Wait a second, Pele. I have an idea."

He retreated back into the ship but was back with a quickness. And with a bound and scared-looking browncoat named Beth.

"Which way?"

The hammer clicked back on his pistol. Unnecessary, but it always helped add emphasis. They didn't have the luxury of time, and Cooper was sure as shit not walking through these woods without being dead certain he had a way out.

The preacher had been overly cautious in buckling in AFTER the initial commotion and now was having a doozie of a time getting the blasted thing undone now they were planetside, unharmed.
Coming to terms with the fact that he might be stuck in this infernal jumpseat for the rest of eternity, he leaned his head back closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He gave the release latch one final pull. He was free from the seat. He must have been more shaken up by the turbulence than he'd realized.

He made his way to the railing outside the cargo bay and gave a wave to Mattie and Rian. He didn't think Rian would have a particular assignment for him for this job but he wanted to be around just in case. And if they were here long enough he thought he might do some exploring this time.

Away Team:

Charity clapped her hands together politely, gaze snapping toward Francis for his thoughts on the matter. He knew the man and maybe this was completely normal behavior for him?

"Oh man, he's gotten so much worse." His look said as he cast it in Charity's direction, his palms meeting each other in an anxious, over-eager ovation.

Maybe not.

Another grimace barely contained, her mask smoothing it out into a smile and nod of greeting in the direction of the host. It seemed like he might have been the sort who had little to no station and would do just about anything in order to get it, even if it was all a show. Having Charity around could offer him some semblance of legitimacy, and she recognized that small modicum of power she held. It was tenuous, and clearly unstable, but she'd nurture it as best as she could if it meant the crew walked out of her.

The captain looked briefly toward King, wanting nothing more than to have him pull her out of here but knowing that was impractical and selfish of her. She caught the tail end of his and Francis' eye-conversation.

While on the outside, King appeared as deadpan and nonconfrontational as possible, it was clear that he was constantly scanning for possible ways out. His look in Francis' direction might have been saying something similar to, "Yeah we absolutely need to leave, immediately if not sooner." Then, he looked in Charity's direction, her questioning frown met with a follow up. "Girl, we need to leaveeee." She could barely contain the shiver of fear at his assessment of the situation. If King wanted to get them out of there, they needed to leave as soon as possible.

"Stark staring bonkers," Velocity muttered under her breath. Charity shot her a look that didn't say much, but was equal parts an attempt to make sure no one else had heard the tall woman, and a hope that that was all she had to say on the matter. "What do we do now, Captain?" Velocity asked very quietly.

The room became deadly silent.

"So, who are you?" the Major asked.

"Thank you, again, for your generous invitation, Major," she began, but was quick to switch from pleasantries to the answer to his question. While he might have been the kind to pretend to be from her world, he was still a military man and she didn't think he'd appreciate her beating around the bush too much.

"I am Captain Charity, of the Odette," she repeated the way she'd been introduced by his soldier, tapping softly at her sternum before lowering her hand back onto her lap. "I'd hate to spoil the dinner with too much talk of business, but we are here to pickup the agreed upon payment for goods sent prior," she answered carefully, making sure not to mention Sebastian outright.

*King narration/input provided by Axe

"Stark staring bonkers," Velocity muttered under her breath, which was a bit like the pot calling the kettle soot-stained. It had taken a prod in the ribs to get her clapping along with everyone else.

Velocity didn't feel that she should be answering Mitch and she doubted if she could, even had she wanted to. It seemed strange that he was asking who they were; hadn't he invited them?

Velocity was not capable of telepathy but she didn't need Francis to tell her that they were in a bad situation, and she didn't see any way out. She would have recognised the symptoms from her time in bughouses, if she could just remember but those memories were locked away for now, and there had been nothing extreme enough to trigger their release.

"What do we do now, Captain?" Velocity asked very quietly, not knowing if Charity would hear but too fearful to speak any louder.

Quote from: Melody on August 18, 2023, 10:22:15 AMShe hadn't heard the safe word from her man in the engines, so she had to assume it was going alright so far.

So far, there had been a few times her man in the engines had gone so far as to stop frantically playing with his toy stethoscope tomotion towards the squawk box with the "fff" sound in the safe word already on his lips. Then he remembered that he was Ick Rosewater and vented whatever needed to be vented or diverted whatever needed to be diverted. It bought time, but not a lot of it, even though it did help that the grav forces pulling them forward meant that fewer resources were needed for propulsion, leaving plenty for maneuvering.

It was that thought which made him grimace at his own stupidity. Revenge didn't NEED maneuverability right now. She needed to MOVE...FAST. Ick still had things configured for his forward-is-down idea. No wonder the attitudinal adjusters were screaming like their grandma just died. They were pulling duty as propulsion. Which, granted, they could do, but it was not their forte. Now was the time to treat this not as a landing or a takeoff, but as a nose dive. No, scratch that. It was time to treat this as what it was...a dive bomb.

This time, Ick DID flick the squawk box. "Grip tight, Revenge! We're about to get a nice boost in three...two...one..."

Boom. Ick threw the healthy majority of everything Revenge had going for her into propulsion. After all, just because one COULD save fuel on propulsion while using the Hammer Highway didn't mean one HAD to save fuel on propulsion while using the Hammer Highway.

"Ready, Cap'n," Ick said. "The safe word is Fisher-Price."

"On my way, Captain!"

"YAHHARRRR!!!" "YAHHARRRR!!!"

"But I should be able to patch you through. I hope you don't mind your message being accompanied by... advertisements."

"Can ---- read?! We need ------ Reavers!! One vessel cap----- I repeat. We are un------"

Mel's attention constantly shifted between the Hellscape of the radar screen, the view ports, and countless other readouts flashing across the pilot's console.

"What are they... Mi Tian Gohn," she cursed, gripping the yoke tightly with one hand and bumping the intercom with the back of her fist. "Hold onto something," she warned the crew still on board. "Jo, go ahead and establish communication with that ship, see if you can't convince them to surrender?" she snapped, although clearly the terseness wasn't directed at him, she simply had her attention on far too many things.

Seeing the other ship trying to lose them by slowing down so quickly, she slammed the controls forward to jerk them to their own deceleration, the sudden change in speed being near enough to make anyone a little queasy and maybe a little off balance if they hadn't held onto something in time.

"You're not getting away that easily," she muttered to the Middle Ship, her gaze locked on its position on her radar. She wanted to get to the Excelsior and the Lead Ship that had boarded it, but she couldn't be greedy. Not if she wanted them to way away with some kind of win. She'd leave the Lead Ship/Excelsior to Holger and Breene. For now. Of course...they were spinning away and in danger of being jettisoned from the Highway.

Another slam against the comms button. "Breene, make whoever is piloting that Fey Wu push the starboard thrusters to max to cancel out the spin, but be quick about it! Reorient and get back onto the Lead Ship! Dock like a person, don't just slam into it this time!" she barked, frustrated that she wasn't there to do it herself.

"Izak, get down to the cargo bay with the doctor, I want her to have an armed escort just in case this surrender doesn't go smooth," she ordered, a light sweat shimmering across her forehead at the work and concentration needed to keep the ship under control under these conditions.

She hadn't heard the safe word from her man in the engines, so she had to assume it was going alright so far. But she didn't have a doubt in her mind that they'd need to land somewhere after this to get this ship sorted. Even as strong as she was, she wagered that The Revenge was mighty annoyed by all of this and would need some maintenance in the end. Hopefully that was all she'd need...

The Excelsior

After a couple of awkward minutes of scraping noises, drills, and metal-on-metal banging, the Blue Sun corpos were finally through the emergency hatch of the passenger vessel. Obviously annoyed, as they were intruding into his workspace, the Captain objected:

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doin' pal but-"

Before he could finish protesting, a flash-bang grenade clattered through the opening. Next was smoke. Two pops went off near simultaneously.

Three single shots rang out behind smoke and blinding light that followed. The shots were muffled by suppressors (aka silencers) but still audible. Six blue sun mercenaries fanned out from the fog and quickly began shouting at everyone. They'd shifted to crowd control, but a trickle of blood coming out the cabin door was a less-than-subtle warning to everyone about what might happen if they didn't immediately acquiesce.

"HEAD'S DOWN! YOUR CORTEX IS JAMMED. COMPLY AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED!"

The speakers crackled to life.

"This shuttle has been commandeered by private security forces in the best interest of Federal security. Do not attempt to contact anyone outside this ship. We are being persued by reavers. If you fail to comply, you will condemn EVERYONE on this ship to unspeak-

Before Gunny could finish his attempt to scare the passengers, he was interrupted.

"Look, you're only human. It can happen to anyone for a million reasons. But is there any reason not to talk to your doctor about Phallavex? For most men it can stimulate blood flow and even give you some of that youthful vigor again. Call today! Phallavex can cause skin irritation, bloody nasal discharge, minor hallucinations, weight loss and wandering pancreas syndrome. Do not use Phallavex if you are pregnant. If a loved one is pregnant make sure they do not handle Phallavex. If they do consult a doctor immediately. In some trials Phallavex users..."

The disclaimer went on for another good half-minute of speed-talking. Jo's spam attack was working, and it was contagious. All the Blue Sun vehicles, and now the Excelsior were now feverishly pitching sexual wellness products.

In case things weren't tense, or weird enough. The former tail-vessel in the convoy was now about to catch up. The door was on the side. If Sam looked over at this exact moment, she would have be lined up eye-to-eye with her supposed Reavers. A large ginger-bear of a man and a lightly bearded crook looked like they were having an absolute blast.

What on Earth were they trying to do? These crazy-looking pirates or handsome reavers were going to try and pull a 90 degree turn at full speed, and dock with the Excelsior's side doors.

BANG

The matching Blue Sun vessel bounced off and started to spin off uncontrollably, still moving forward at the same speed. Psychics, are a real pain in the ass sometimes. The supposed reavers, actual pirates, and definite morons were moments away from being ejected from the Hammer Highway.

The Revenge

Mel's radar screen was even more chaotic than before. Tracking all these ships, at these speeds, in a gravity tunnel was hard enough to keep track of, but then Breene had to try and get to the Spaceliner before her. A pilot of her skill would quickly notice the gradual slowdown of the forgotten step-child of the Blue Sun convoy. Once middle of the pack, Willy and Holger had passed it trying to catch up with Gunny in the lead vehicle. Amidst the com-channel spam, a new voice tried to break through the advertisement for Phallavex.

"Can ---- read?! We need ------ Reavers!! One vessel cap----- I repeat. We are un------"

The vessel was trying that move in a high-speed chase, where you just jam your breaks all of a sudden and let the cops whip past. Except in this case it's not the fuzz, but rather a ship full of pirates you think are Reavers, so you're ready to do literally anything to escape. Revenge had a new set of quandaries. Keep up the spam attack? Or try and contact the Blue Sun vessel to elicit a surrender when they pass? Or, try a hasty docking maneuver. What's the worst that can happen?


Breene and Holger's Blue Sun ship

Actually, let's not get into specifics. They're spinning uncontrollably. You can guess how this went for their stomachs. 

Well, this was embarrassing.

Not for Pele, who hadn't done anything wrong (because she hadn't reacted in time), but more so for the others who had attacked first and asked questions later. Jedikiah was making the best of a bad situation but Cooper wasn't taking it so well.

Cecil didn't often fly off the handle -- his brand of abuse was more about firmly establishing dominance and dangling the threat of more serious violence over your head -- but Pele had witnessed him lose his cool on a few occasions, and the way Cooper grabbed the girl and screamed at her for her stupidity twisted her stomach. The doctor continued to take charge of the situation, which was a relief because she didn't like taking orders in the best of times and she definitely didn't like taking orders from middle-aged men with anger issues.

"I don't see why I need to tag along," she lamented to no one in particular once her and Cooper were alone. She sighed and crossed her arms.

"What do you expect will happen with this Sergeant James figure anyway? A shootout? A civil conversation? On second thought, if there's talking involved, it really is best I come with you." She thought back to his earlier outburst. It had rattled her, but now that things had calmed down and she'd had some time to digest the scene she'd witnessed, she was coming to the conclusion that it hadn't been that much like Cecil after all. Sure, blame had been thrown around, but it had a different undercurrent. Maybe, just maybe, it was the kind of yelling you did when you were actually more angry at yourself than the person you were yelling at -- which still wasn't great, but at least it showed you had some sense of shame. She would trust the mechanic enough to go on this mission with him, but she would have to keep on her toes.