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A human spacer steps up to the bar at Eff's Tavern at the Waypoint Station in Absalom Sector, "Neutron Gargle Blaster, up, extra dry!". Karter was no handsome blue-eyed roguish captain of space smut centerfold; rather, a common face, deep brown skin, dark brown eyes, black tight curls in a moderate fro, a stylish thick vest worn over sleeveless shirt, leather breeches, greeved hard boots; with manners befitting more of a sidekick than hero. His pockets laden with fresh credits after a six month stint in the Hinterworlds, he was in a mood to celebrate with plenty of drink and women. With every order of a Blaster which exponentially bolstered him like amatory poppers, he approaches would become more bold and promising…
Blaster #1, a group of Absalomnians
"Hello ladies...", he says setting down his glass as the women are picking up theirs, "-goodbye ladies."
Blaster #2, an Uslavian woman with feline features
“You know, in space no one can hear us scream? –no wait, please stop screaming! Okay, I’m leaving!”
Blaster #3, a blue skinned Tianian
"Excuse ma'am, I'm looking for the Throaty Mermaid?"
"Is that a ship?", she replied.
"I have no idea; I was hoping it was your name by the way you swallowed that-"
::splash::
Blaster #4, a sapphire-eyed blond human
"Excuse ma'am, I'm looking for the Black Hole?"
::splash::
Blaster #5, a mousey short-haired human in ship-tech garbs:
"You must be wearing a zero-G suit, 'cus that ass is out of this world!
Blaster #6, with slurred speech at blurred face
”Well helloo there sth'weetheart…oh, excuse me th’sir.”
Just as he was about to end the night on a bartool in a lonely stupor, Karter catches a voluptuous Mwangian seductively motioning him over with her forefinger.
Me?, he thumbs.
Yes, she nods and exits through a set of curtains near the back.
He tips the bartender with a wink and spryly follows the scent of roses into the private area. The room is dimly lit by the red exit sign on the other side. He moves towards the shadowy form nearby then pauses, ”Hey, you’re not that dame-"
A wordless ::THUMP!:: replies, and Karter floats quietly into darkness.
It seemed like just any other day, sitting quietly with the rest of the trainees after a rigorous day of physical and mental exercises. The room stays quiet but, as usual, the minds of each of the occupants is in full force, either speaking to each other about the day's activities or sitting in deep meditation about the training to come.
It comes as a shock, then, when you amble off towards your living quarters and find yourself walking down the same alley that you've taken countless times before, except this time you sense something different. . . some other scent or presence. But before you can react, you succumb to blackness....
You wake with a pounding headache, your head resting on the hard metal floor of a strange room. Several other, well, creatures lie nearby, looking in a similar state of distress to yourself. You worriedly note that all of your possessions are missing save your clothes and the curing potion you happened to have in your pocket which your captors must not have noticed.
You wake with a pounding headache, your head resting on the hard metal floor of a strange room. Several other, well, creatures lie nearby, looking in a similar state of distress to yourself. You worriedly note that all of your possessions are missing save your clothes and the small metal symbol representing the power of the Force you were given by one of your teachers .
Indeed, it was another wild night at Eff's Tavern, just like many you've had before. And although you have had many nights end in nothing but a fog, this time when the fog clears you don't find yourself on the bar-room floor, your own bed, or even in a holding cell sleeping off your drunkenness (a familiar happening for you).
You wake with a pounding headache, your head resting on the hard metal floor of a strange room. Several other, well, creatures lie nearby, looking in a similar state of distress to yourself. You worriedly note that all of your possessions are missing save your clothes and the small dagger you had strapped to your leg.
You wake with a pounding headache, your head resting on the hard metal floor of a strange room. Several other, well, creatures lie nearby, looking in a similar state of distress to yourself. You worriedly note that all of your possessions are missing save your clothes and the spell-component pouch in your pocket that your captors must have missed.
A tall green-skinned humanoid stomps into your cell as each of you shake the weariness from your heads and take in your surroundings, which are bare save the other occupants. Six rough-looking green humanoids enter behind the leader. "So!" the leader says, the whip in his hand moving menacingly back and forth as he looks at each of you. "Still abed? Come on now, get up you filthy scum!"
"Get up!" one of the goons says as he kicks Karter in the ribs, "Or you'll make Master Scourge here angry!"
The leader grins and shouts, "On your feet, filthy scum! Get up on deck and report for duty before Captain Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry you up for breakfast!"
You quickly realize that in your current state you would quickly be overwhelmed were you to fight back and you have no choice but to be escorted through the narrow corridors of the spaceship to meet the Captain.
Two men stand on the deck of the ship: one a large bald green man who clearly carries the air of authority, whereas the other looks much younger and thinner, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails.
At this moment you realize that you are not the only new recruits—four others are standing with them on the deck, set apart by their relative cleanliness and their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other green slavers, clearly existing members of the crew, stand about on the deck. Once everyone is assembled, the Captain addresses the crew.
“Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine.
“Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be the airlock for anyone caught killing anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you’d be so kind as to make workers out of these misfits, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.”
At the end of his speech, the captain walks away, leaving behind the man with the cat-o’-nine-tails. This is Mister Plugg, the Wormwood’s first mate. He looks down at you and the other impressed captives and smiles unpleasantly. Plugg has no time for small talk or pleasantries. His intention is to get the new recruits working on the ship as soon as possible. He immediately begins his own unique and cunning evaluations to test your abilities.
Mister Plugg moves along from captive to captive asking one simple question: "Can you cook?"
The Protoss slowly regains consciousness, and rises to his feet promptly, though it is obvious that every inch of his body hurts. This alien resembles a kasatha, but with only a pair of arms that end up with three long fingers. He only wears a simple blue suit at the moment though, one that a trainee in a space academy would wear for his heavy-gravity jogging. The alien's body is rather muscular yet incredibly lithe, by judging how quickly he rose to his feet. Luminescent eyes are the only adornment on his face - he doesn't have a nose, nor a mouth. His thick but sparse hair is braided and falls on his spine. Soon, thoughts crawl into your mind, this creature's only apparent way of communication.
By Tassadar, where am I? Who are you all? What- No, obviously no questions will find an answer for now. I am Xerxes, of Aiur.
Later on, when Harrigan gives his speech, the Protoss simply listens, seeing no reason to anger the Captain prematurely. With a simple glance at Plugg, it is obvious that the alien does't like the first mate at all.
He remains silent at the first mate's question, content to meditate on his situation and possible outcomes of it.
"Bloody hell..." the bedraggled man states as he awakens, clutching the giant lump on his skull.
At the prodding of the of the alien, Francis stands, using the wall to help him up. He quietly follows the group, thinking it the wisest course of action given his current predicament.
Perhaps this is where these visions were leading me...
Force save us ! What I'm in ?! was the first thought of Sh'yl.
Then a second awful thought came MY SABER WHERE'S MY SABER !!!
Before they were dragged out of their room and something talked to him in his head.
Sh'yl is a strange creature with four arms, a grey skin and strange alien feature. He keeps his mouth behind clothing and wore only a sort of penitent's robe and a simple white symbol around his neck.
After a few seconds he answered Xerxes question, trying to think rather than talk to do it.
I'm Sh'yl M'asshakul
When Mister Plugg asked him about cooking, Sh'yl remember a story about a cook in a ship who saved the day... So it seemed like a good idea to came forward and cooking meaned knife...
So he responded I'm not a professionnal one, but I think I could do it
Mister Plugg stares at Xerxes for a few seconds before letting out a snort and moving on. The next captive is a young woman with a black tricorn hat featuring a skull and crossbones. She shakes her head at his question.
Upon hearing Sh'yl's answer though, Mister Plugg gives a nasty grin and says, “You’re a cook’s mate now.”
Mister Plugg then looks everyone up and down for a moment, pacing the room. "You with the arms," he points to Sh'yl. "Probably good at crawling around, right? Good. You'll be with me, working in the crawlspaces of the ship fixing up the engineering hereabouts."
"The rest of you," he grins, "are swabs. Get to work!" Mister Plugg then stalks out of the room and the other green men throw buckets, brooms, mops, and sponges at you before leaving as well.
The other 'recruits' consist of the woman with the tricorn hat, a halfling woman with more muscles than most of the crew (and as you soon learn, a fouler mouth than all of them put together), a human man with a blue handkerchief covering his head, and a handsome gnome who wears a foppish purple hat, an eye patch, and a white silk shirt and carries a dandyish cane.
Karter thought he'd been dreaming the entire thing - of waking up on a slaveship, surrounded by strange aliens, prodded by a nasty old captain, and a nastier first mate. He tries to 'role over' and wake himself out of the whisky nightmare but it wasn't working. Hey idiot, I don't think you are dreaming, says an inner voice. Suddenly looking down at the cleaning bucket and rag in his very real hands, then around at the very real fools standing nearby, Karter knew exactly what had happened, ”mu+#@r fu(%@r...”.
Swab? What does that mean? Oh, right. Bucket and mop. By the Khala, such menial tasks aren't meant to be dealt with by such a great warrior as I. I shall show them, eventually. For now, let's lay low and bide our time to strike.
Xerxes accomplishes his tasks with great reluctance, but does them eventually,using his work time to study his companions, trying to assert which ones would be the most valuable allies. He soon comes go value the new cook assistant, attempting mental contact when he has the chance to do so. "Greetings, Kasatha. I couldn't help but notice your psychic abilities, a superiority that we both share. I am the great Xerxes, no doubt you have heard of me. And you, who are you? Are you as deterred as I am by this situation? Being an underling is not something I can accept, not unless I very tried to do something about it. Maybe you would be willing to formally an alliance in the hope of improving our chances of survival? "
In the hours to follow, he will come up with a similar offer to Francis and Karter, judging them a good start in his endeavor.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Cook mate" will be a safer place hoped Sh'yl.
When Mister Plugg asked for him he followed the Second.
Sh'yl responded to Xerxes's telepathic's questions I haven't heard of you Xerxes, but the universe his large enough.
As for an alliance, why not. Chance of survival are better with two.
I a am a Force adept, I hope to be able to explain one date what it realy meens.
"Force ? Is that what you call it? Most intriguing. Can you bend it to your will? "
-Posted with Wayfinder
Not as well as my master, but yes. The Force is everywhere and in everyone. It's a difficult path, but an enlighten one.
Sh'yl turned to the other and said
In these strange circumstance I would like to present myself.
I'm Sh'yl M'sshakul, but you can call me Sh'yl.
Francis seems a bit unnerved by this sudden sway in his station in life. "Uhh... where are the buckets, Mister Plugg, was it?"
When sent to swab or swipe or in general do things that he has never done before in his own life, Francis looks around warily. "Psst... what's going on?" he whispers quite loudly to the recruit closest to him, the foppish gnome.
I hope he isn't mean. Gnomes are always mean...
Mister Plugg kicks a pair of buckets along the wall as he struts away. He laughs evil and the woman with the hat swears under her breath at him as he leaves. The halls and rooms on this deck are truly filthy with the crew's unsavory sanitation habits.
The gnome taps his cane on the ground at Francis' question. "Only been here a day, my good friend!" the gnome responds while twirling his mustache curls. "Always wanted to explore space; never thought it would be like this though! Ah, but we're aren't dead yet so I guess a little scrubbing isn't so bad, is it? Haha! Say, do you play?" the gnome slyly reaches into an inside jacket pocket and exposes a deck of well-made playing cards. He raises a waxed eyebrow at Francis and winks. "Game tonight, eh?"
The halfling woman rolls her eyes at the gnome and grabs a sponge, moving off to the corner of a room to start scrubbing the floor after kicking aside some food wrappers and a discarded bone.
"Look man, you're creepin' me out with this talkin' to my head stuff, how about we just whisper?", Karter quitely says to Sh'yl and Xerxes, trying to keep his cool and xenophobia in check. "But yeah, I'm in brother, I watch your...backs", he frowns at the strange anatomy, "And you watch mine?"
"Yeah, these fools don't look so tough", Karter says looking around with a bit of bravado. When he catches a mean scowl from a thug overwatch though, he breaks eye contact with a little alarm and begins to scrub the walls a little harder.
Sh'yl asked around
Ave you all been taken and put to chain on this boat ? And for how long have you been here ? It seems this vessel needs a lot of fresh "meat" is the death a common thing here ?
Do you know if someone ever tried to escape ?
I... apologise if my manner of communication makes you uncomfortable. This is my sole way of communicating with you. I will watch your back, count on me. What is your designated name?
Then the protoss turns his thoughts to the tough-looking halfling. I am Xerxes. Who are you? I believe we share the same fate, yet you look strong, more so than the others. Would you care for an alliance of circumstance? I think Plugg won't make life easy for us, so we might as well find a way to scratch one another's proverbial backs. What were you doing before the Wormwood? enquires the alien.
"I have been known to dabble. Didn't get kicked out of the university for not partaking in such activities, now did I?" Francis whispers excitedly to the gnome. He's out to get you...
Francis smiles, ignoring his inner voice as he always does. "Scrub scrub... Wonder where I have ended up this time...?" he says to no one in particular.
---
After some more scrubbing, Francis deems his area of the deck clean. He snaps his fingers and waves his hands about. Suddenly the dirt that he cleaned reappears.
"Oh well, time to clean. Scrub scrub." Francis seems very happy to do the work once more. Doing the same thing and expecting a different result...
The halfling woman speaks up, but not after spitting on the ground first. "That f+~*ing Mister Plugg! He'll f#**ing kill us if any of those bastards will, that's for f$$!ing sure! My sorry ass has only been here for three f!+$ing days and he's already beaten the s!&~ out of me twice, the f@+@er!"
She calms down for a moment and says, "Rosie Cusswell they call me. What I did before this piece of s!$# picked me up is none of anyone's f~#+ing concern, got it?"
The gnome laughs a bit and starts to say, "Oh Rosie my dear-" but is cut short as Rosie punches him hard enough in the gut to double the gnome over. "Shut the f~%# up, Conch. Don't ever touch me."
The woman with the hat, whose hair is strawberry blonde you may note, smiles at the antics of the rest of the swabs. "M'name's Sandra Quinn. In case you were wondering."
Once you surreptitiously get closer, she slips a pair of daggers to you.
The man with the rag on his head simply keeps quiet and shakes his head at the others while using a wire brush to clean up the rust on the wall.
Xerxes discreetly moves closer to the girl a hat, and nods at her with great respect and gratefulness, accepting her gift and hiding the blades in his clothes before he can be seen with them.
I thank you, human. Your gesture will not be forgotten, upon my honor. I would think it proper to ally with one another to survive our current situation.
Then Xerxes relays the information to his newfound companions telepathically, so that the rest of the crew doesn't overhear.
The red-headed girl is an honorable one, and will help us get our gear back.
Thanks her for me Xerxes.
Sh'yl turned to his new colorful companions and said
Thanks for sharing your stories. I hope we could help each other, in the right Path of the Force
You spend the rest of the day cleaning, fixing broken equipment, and working on other mundane tasks until finally, late into the night, you are allowed to take a break. Along the way you have seen several other crew members moving about and have learned a bit about them:
Peppery Longfarthing is the ship's navigator and resident magician.
The crew talks incessantly about the captain's cabin girl "Caulky" Tarroon.
The cook, Ambrose "Fishguts" Kroop, is a slob and a drunk who actually knows very little about cooking and seems to suffer from a lack of taste buds.
"It's poison, this ship, but don't let anyone hear you say it aoud. The hull listens, see, and the cap'n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten to the core. You'll not meet a more nasty, sour piece of work than Cap'n Harrigan in all your days in space, and his crew's the same, 'specially the first mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicous little sod, he is. He'd take his own mother's liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can't 'arm 'em."
There is a small store on board looked after by the ship's quartermaster Cut-Throat Grok, a green-skinned female with a huge scar across her neck.
----
That night many of the swabs (and you discover that there are quite a few other slaves aboard the ship besides the newer ones that you met today) simply go to their bunks and lie about. Conchobar desperately tries to find enough people with things to gamble for a decent poker game.
Sandara Quinn, the red-headed woman with the hat, pulls each of you aside quietly and slips you back one piece of gear.
Xerxes spends the evening talking to Rosie, sharing tales of hard-won battles, as well as discussing fighting techniques. "You are one to be reckoned with in a fight, Rosie. I look forward to see you in action and fight alongside you. "
Later on, he scans the other swabs, trying to assert how many of them would remain loyal to Plugg and Harrigan should a mutiny arise.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Yo ho ho and a pirate's life for me! Francis sings from his bunk, tracing in the air symbols that his mind's eye visualizes.
"I'm bored... I figured being a pirate would be more fun..." Francis sighs. You will always be bored...
Rosie looks right where she thinks Xerxes eyes are. "F%%$. You."
Eventually everyone settles down and you are able to get your first (uncomfortable) night's sleep aboard the spacefaring slave ship.
As you wake, Master Scourge and his mates lead everyone on deck, where Captain Harrigan welcomes you again and explains that Jake Magpie was caught stealing from the quartermaster's store two nights before. "After a brief interrogation at the hands of Mr. Plugg and Master Scourge, he has confessed to his crime and for that he'll get to see the cold side of an airlock."
The bloodied man is led into a room with only a small window looking back in. After a brief shoosh! as the door is opened, the air and the poor man are evacuated into space.
After observing this spectacle, everyone starts heading off to various parts of the ship to see to their duties. As you step into a wide corridor, you are met with four of the crew. "In a hurry?" one says as he laughs, pushing Francis in the chest. "Master Scourge has already talked to us and he tells us he doesn't like you new swabs and you need to be knocked into shape. Hope you can make it to your shift on time...."
They approach with fists balled and no weapons in hand.
You have no idea how mistaken you are to confront me. For Aiur!
Xerxes reacts instantly, tumbling behind the goons to flank them.
Then his punch whistles towards the nearest sailor's jaw.
When Sandara came back with his saber, Sh'yl thanked her. The Force is with you Sandara, if you need anything just ask me. I'm in your debt.
When he could, Sh'yl make his prayer and meditate through is symbol, asking for the Force to give him powers.
------------
When confronted to the crew, Sh'yl decided to not use his saber and use only his fist.
Following Xerxes, he targeted the same sailor and used the force to get out the air in his lung.
Xerxes surprises the crew by leaping behind one of them and punching him right in the face! The man reels back from the hit! The man near Sh'yl grabs his throat and gasps for breath!
Francis, confronted by dangerous men, hears the ever present voice spurring him on to violence. Burn them to ash!
"I don't have watch? Are we late for our shift?" Francis asks.
The brawl breaks out around him and he kind of looks around unsure what to do. He summons a small amount of electricity and blasts one of the crew with it.
"There is a loose wire behind you! Watch out!" Francis blatently lies to the man's face as alternating current shocks the man.
Francis blasts one of the crew!
After stuffing away Quinn's palmed lock picks, Karter holds his hands up in surrender to the thugs and pleads, "Look fellas, I don't even know these a$$#@les!".
-Posted with Wayfinder
Karter throws one of them off his guard by ducking. The man swings back wildly at the spacefaring swashbuckler!
The others throw their own punches back!
And the one near Sh'yl stands catching his breath.
He has attacked you, now show him your true power! Burn him to ash!
"Look out. Another live wire! Who upkeeps this place!?" Francis yells as another electrical arc flies from his hands into the man.
Karter krinkles his nose at the sting, "sonovah-!", he aims for the goods.
>>
Francis and Xerxes miss but Karter leaves a bruise on his opponent!
His trick with the Forve having worked, Sh'yl tried again
Once again the foe near Sh'yl grasps at his neck and chokes while the others continue their rough-housing!
Xerxes's eyes narrow, seeking a weak point in his opponent's guard. Suddenly, his whistling fist meets the goon's jaw!