The Jeweled Fang was a ship in a league of its own. It was a sleek, well-run vessel that combined the modern visage of a lean, mean, vicious destroyer, with a decadent layer of classical pirate aesthetics. The golden age of piracy was well represented in slick, morish and beautifully rendered glory; oil-treated wood lining the floor, glass lanterns blinking softly from the walls, hanging ropes and plunder hard-earned adorned the ship's surface, along with colourful tapestries and oversized paintings that concealed the industrial workings of the ship. The air carried a slight hum of rum and salt, not enough to sting the nostrils (for those who had them) but enough to lure the soul into believing that, just for a moment, it may well have been a different time period altogether.
But it wasn't a case of aesthetics over function; the corridors were kept clear, and panels of importance were easily accessible. It was roughly twice the size of Seeth's Minitaur, but still firmly in the destroyer size class of ship; big enough for a hundred people to live and work on comfortably, a few hundred for transport only. The floorboards which overlaid the corridors were a far step away from the usually clinical metal or ceramic plating that most ships adorned. However, Wex's steps did not elicit the same organic creak from the wood that the rest of crews' did.
Wex led them all down the main corridor, which ran most of the length of the ship, passing by a well-stocked kitchen, mess hall and a training room. The ship was nicely busy, with a sparse array of crew in each room. Wex's priority appeared to be quality over quantity for his crew, as all of them appeared comfortable and adept at whatever task they were performing. It was a remarkably relaxed and calm atmosphere, far beyond what anyone expected from a space pirate destroyer.
Finally, they reached the end of the long corridor, marked by a short set of stairs and a pair of heavy, wooden doors. The doors lead into a large, circular room, the more attentive of the group noting that it was nestled directly in the centre of the ship. The navigation office was plenty large enough to fit everyone comfortably. A large table was placed in the middle, with a series of holo-projectors above it used for displaying 3D maps of sectors. The walls were lined with faux-glass panelled windows, currently lit up with graphics of a wild, thunder-driven ocean. The storm water splashed up against the glass, and faint flashes and crackles of lightning sparked in the 'distance' but the actual purpose of these holo walls was to display the ships local environment via its external sensors. There was a rectangular nook opposite the door, containing a heavy wooden desk and a pair of full-wall shelves, displaying more archaic items such as glass bottles, a globe, and rolls of paper maps. There were several seats dotted around the room and a few around the table, including an oversized bean bag tucked in the corner. There was even a small breakfast bar, evidently fitted as an afterthought, but cosy all the same.
"Come on in, make yourselves at home. I feel like we have plenty to talk about, so settle down and I'll ask the cooks to whip up some grub." Wex addressed the gang casually, confidently and with a smile. Somehow, a room full of near strangers on his ship didn't seem to phase him at all.
It didn't take long for everyone to settle, following in Tivy's excited lead as she quickly nabbed the already-oversized bean bag with a joyful hop. The gang chose to stay relatively close together, taking up the top side of the room and moving the stools from the breakfast bar slightly closer to the middle of the large room. Seeth leaned back against one of the walls, opting to stand with her arms folded, positioned so that she had a clear view of everyone, and the door. Plasia stuck close to Diego's side, shyly hovering close behind him. Ceri, Hammond and Diesel already had their favourite spots in the room and didn't hesitate to take them; Hammond climbed up into a rope hammock strung across a far corner of the room. Diesel sat on a sturdy wooden stool close to the door, his eyes scanning the room and taking a quick head count. Ceri and Wex both perched on his desk directly, with Ceri resting against the wood, leaning ever-so-slightly into Wex. The captain however, pulled his coat off, draped it across the back of the desk chair and hopped up onto his deck, one of his legs kicking up high and resting on the wood, the other dangling off the side.
Jace entered the room last, and took his place a comfortable distance away from everyone. He politely placed himself opposite Diego's crew, close to the navigation table, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
The light chatter that had started to build inside the room fell to a hush as Diego stepped forward, crackling his knuckles one at a time as his thoughts collided inside his head.
"I think... I think it's time for a review of what the hell we're doing, where we're going, and who's on-board. This is more aimed at my lot, but it'll catch everyone up regardless." Diego cleared his throat and glanced to his sides, catching both Seeth's and Plasia's eyes. "Several months ago, I responded to a call for help that Oxyi put out. People had been going missing, and we investigated together. During that... uh... investigation, we discovered a group who now call themselves the Rewritten." He turned to address Wex directly. "We'll give you the specifics later, Wex. If we're going to travel together, you and your crew should know everything we do about them."
Wex nodded in affirmation but stayed quiet.
"Anyway, long story short, we all escaped together on a DA ship and were mid-way through making our way to a Warlocks of Detromus outpost for assistance, but things went wrong and I was detained by the DA, for lack of a better term." He shot a steely glare towards Jace. "Now, we're six or seven months on from when we first discovered the Rewritten, I've still not managed to contact the Warlocks, and the Rewritten have only grown stronger since then. They have access to some sort of super-class ship and tried to snatch me directly from within DA territory. It seems I made... quite the impression, and they'll stop at nothing now to track me down."
"She's obsessed with you. Dangerously." Plasia said softly. "I-I was back with them, briefly. Moltezz... She's after you, Diego. Really after you."
Diego's face softened as he turned to look at Plasia. Her words revealed far more than perhaps she intended. A furious blush overtook the Controller as felt her chest flush with warmth at his gaze.
We'll speak later, Plas. Everything will be okay, I promise.
But Diego turned back to carry on addressing the room after only a brief pause. "Then this is only going to get more dangerous. Moltezz is an ultra-class psyker with immense potential, and she's going to scorch anything that gets in her way. Anyone close to me is going to be at risk."
"I second that." Jace interjected, forcing his shoulders straight as he felt everyone's gazes of varying degrees of disdain land upon him. "Moltezz is a known and highly dangerous quantity. She launched an assault on a DA space station close to the border where, regrettably, Plasia was being illegally detained. They pulled her from the station and in doing so, killed thousands of DA citizens. She destroyed the whole station and its hab-barges in one foul swoop."
"Moltezz attacked the DA?" Diego asked, his mouth agape.
"She did. Along with a few others. But it was her that dealt the majority of the damage. Your assessment of her is in line with ours."
Diego struggled to maintain his neutral composure. Moltezz had attacked the DA. Thinking about it, she'd attacked the DA too all those months ago, as he and the others had escaped from the dungeon. A feeling of satisfaction was spreading through his chest, which quickly churned with guilt; Moltezz had killed thousands of innocent citizens, this was not a time to feel pride! And yet, he couldn't shake it. A part of him was in awe. He hated Moltezz. She was a tyrant. A monster. She'd hurt two of his most favourite and important people in the entire world!
And yet, he couldn't deny the elation he felt at the mention of her name. It was difficult to tell if the feeling was lifting him higher, or dragging him down.
He blinked hard, and forced himself back into the room, where Jace was still speaking.
"Although, there is now a twenty-million die bounty on her head, dead or alive, which is likely why so many mercs are here."
The rest of the room suddenly mirrored Diego's guise, and their jaws dropped as one.
"Twenty million dies?!" Wex blurted out. "Oh yeah, that explains the mercs. I wouldn't want to be in her shoes right now. If its an 'or' bounty, those fuckers will just play battleships until she goes down."
"I wouldn't bet on them winning." Jace shook his head. "Then again, I'm sure some of those ships have nuclear payloads. They might just bombard the dreadnought until it collapses."
"Maybe the first ten ships won't win. But for that price? They won't stop coming. She's dragging mercs from several clusters away, even some of the terra-corps will turn their heads for a price like that." Wex added, stroking his fingers down his chin.
"Either that, or they'll just end up feeding themselves to the Rewritten, which is not what we want. This place is turning into a war zone and we need help. Lots of help." Diego continued, seemingly unphased by the bounty reveal. "My plan is still to go to the Warlocks. I know where the closest outpost is from here. If Seeth is in agreement, I want to take the Minitaur out there and rally whoever I can. Moltezz and the Rewritten need to be stopped." Diego turned then to face his friends sincerely. "But this is where I need to ask you all the question. You've already done so much for me and this cause. When I met most of you, you were just trying to survive, and escape imprisonment. Months on, your dedication and loyalty is something I treasure greatly, but I need to ask you, are you still in? This is only going to get worse. You don't need to decide now, but it would be better if you decided before we head off to the Warlock outpost. Please think about what you want. There is zero shame in calling it quits here and trying to resume something resembling a normal life."
"Are you kidding? Hell no, Diego!" Trent stood from his stool, puffing out his chest proudly. "I'm in this until the end! I didn't make it this far only to waddle off with my tail between my legs. Moltezz and the Rewritten need to be stopped."
From the beanbag, Tivy laughed nervously. "Y-Yeah. We're in this together!"
"No chance I'm leaving now. If the Rewritten isn't backing down, then neither am I." Oxyi said, with the same level of determination as Trent, but managing to remain firmly planted on her stool.
Geralt and Venner said nothing, both looking significantly more unsure than the others. Seeth and Plasia meanwhile remained steadfast. For them, it wasn't a question that needed to be considered.
"Thanks guys." Diego smiled. "That... means more to me than you probably know. On that note though, after speaking to Wex, he's offered to join us on that journey to the Warlocks outpost. In return we'll help him look for his missing crew member. I'm all for that, unless anyone has any objections?"
Oxyi's ears pricked at that.
"God, is there anywhere where people aren't going missing these days?" She laughed awkwardly. "S-Sorry, I'm not downplaying your case, it's just this is how this all started, you know?"
To her surprise she got a chuckle out of Wex, who smirked at her awkward humour. "It does seem to be a bit of a theme at the moment. We're looking into the disappearance of a close friend of mine. Chalia Neighorn. She's a quartz elf who functions as a private investigator. She was supposed to be staying aboard my ship, as she feared she was being targeted for a case she was working on. Something big. She left my company to get some belongings from her hide-out, and never returned. I followed what ship emissions I could and it dragged me all the way down from the top side of the cutlass trench all the way down here, through Baron territory. But the trail has gone cold."
