Pavati's Story

The grip on her arm hurt. He was right to hold her so tightly though. In this crowd, all eyes on the queen she could easily blend in and slip away. Pavati shifted slightly, the fingers were pinching her skin.

"Stop your blasted moving. Can't you see there are important people around? Not that the likes of you would understand." The whisper was harsh and mocking in her ear. Her eyes watched the stage, she saw the man mount the stairs. So this was to be the captain. Not that it matter to Pavati, she was only there because John was making her come along. Again, he was smart to. Left alone she would have been gone before he had stepped fully aboard the ship.

Pavati watched as the new captain greeted the female captain who had been instructing them since their arrival. She rather liked the woman. Pavati got the sense that while Cpt. Mastrotoni never said anything, she was not fond of John. That was enough to make Pavati like her but she also commented favourably about the maps and things that "John" did and that gave Pavati a sense of pride. Pavati had overheard someone say that Olivia had been the sailing master of The Cartographer and she had so much she wished to ask the woman but didn't dare.

A hard pull on her arm made Pavati move. John dragged her to where the two captains stood. The others of the crew were all moving to greet the new captain as well. Pavati frowned and stood beside him as he cleared his throat, getting their attention. She looked over the new man. Slightly younger than John possibly and he had the look of a sailor.

"John Lotering. I am your sailing master. Glad to be aboard with you Captain Fletcher." John removed his right hand from Pavati's arm, replacing it with his left as he reached out to shake Gareth's hand. He dug his fingers into Pavati's arm, a silent warning to behave.

Pavati's eyes narrowed and she fought the urge to make a noise as the fingers bit painfully into her skin. Her fight instinct caused her to pull away just a bit. John's eyes turned on her, full of anger that she would dare move while he was speaking to his captain.

John, barely keeping his composure looked back at Gareth, "Don't worry, it doesn't speak much and I will ensure it behaves." Pavati turned to look at John, eyes narrowing but she said nothing. Her gaze turned to Gareth. No one on board had said anything and she didn't expect them to. A domineering husband was not unusual. None of them had seen the chain that held her to the desk as he made her work. Not that the chain was needed. Pavati was not used to being on a ship. She didn't have the legs to handle walking steadily on the rocking vessel. John had chided her for it, commenting that if she couldn't handle it while they were in port what was she going to do in the open ocean and in a storm.

Pavati could think of a number of things she would do once in the open ocean, most revolved around somehow pitching John overboard and into the the water. Sometimes she stabbed him first, other times he would hung up in a rope before falling over. These thoughts gave her comfort whenever her stomach churned and her cheeks paled as the deck under her rocked.

She seethed inside as John waited for Gareth's greeting.

It was an awful lot of formality and parading about for the sake of a handful of nobles. Shaafir immediately that those who had been called upon to hunt down The Hangman weren’t interested in such ceremony. His long lanky frame was unable to stand still, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Ergolyse heritage having left him nearly a head taller than the surrounding crew, his rich chocolate eyes were allowed to remain locked on the vessel which would be his home for the foreseeable future; all but ignoring the royalty.

The Obsidian Star was a fine ship, a testament to the importance of their given task. Elements of craftsmanship from every nation were evident to the properly trained eyes of the carpenter. The narrowed curve of the hull from Islong for speed, the heavy reinforced skirting of Lisim warships, the rigging was Demecian as the thick ropes were strengthened and tinted green from the sinewy resin of the Colawb trees native to Demecia, and the final touch were the cannons, massive imposing weapons protruding from the ship, a sign of the wealthy Wifield benefactors of the mission.

In the process of admiring The Star, Shaafir noticed the man whom had already boarded. It was impossible to read the man’s face from such a distance, but it was clear by his body language that he wasn’t wholly comfortable. It was pointless to speculate, but Shaafir was sure the man was to be their captain long before he made his way through the crowd and approached the stage.

Over the steady lap of the waves and cry of the gulls, the brief exchange which took place between the man and the queen was all but inaudible. Some sideways glances shared between nobility and an uncomfortable hush was all the insight granted, implying a bitter history among The Hangman and the captain.

Several members of the audience cheered and clapped as the man’s identity, and Shaafir’s suspicions, were confirmed. There was little time wasted after Gareth’s introduction, the queen ordering the mass of recruits to their respective ships. Shaafir was eager for the task to get underway, lest it was sand between his toes, he didn’t care much for solid ground; instead preferring the faithful roll of the deck beneath his feet.

The captain himself made a beeline to Oliva Mastrontoni, the woman who had until now been tasked with keeping them in order. The recognition on both parties faces was clear as the sun in the sky, though Oliva seemed slightly more in control of her emotions over their reunion.

Making mental note of the shared past of the two captains, Shaafir moved to introduce himself, only to be jostled out of the way by a gruff man who smelled of booze dragging a woman by her arm.

“De’lit mer fashu.” the carpenter hissed, cursing the ignorant fool in his native tongue.

In an attempt to reign in his ruffled feathers, he instead turned his focus to the woman. She seemed like she’d be willing to chew off her own arm if it meant she could gain a little breathing room from her would-be overlord. Memories of Heldreg flooded back, causing Shaafir to noticeably bristle as he cast a disdainful look in the pair’s direction. The man introduced himself as the sailing master, though based on the smell of his clothing it was unlikely he was able to navigate himself home from a bar on most nights let alone a ships course. So that left the woman, whom John didn’t bother to give a name, referring to her as an it rather than dignifying her with an identity. Classic dominance move, a tactic of cruel and feebly minded men. She was the talent, not him despite his bravado.

Silently Shaafir promised himself that he would be keeping a close eye on the duo. A handful of others approached from behind Shaafir, though he found himself unable to take his eyes from the woman. Besides Shaafir himself, she was the only other that was noticeably foreign in a position above rigger or marine. The suspicion that she was the real brains behind what was likely the most important job aboard a ship captivated him, and a healthy respect was earned from her silent tolerance of the unspoken abuse. A shared past.

In his observing the pair, another stepped forward, a hawkish gunner by the name of Edurst. Hair kept in a shallow buzz, bare footed, looking more reddened by the sun by the minute despite his deep tan. The master gunner had a bit of a wild look in his eye, an unspoken eagerness and enthusiasm he exuded that bordered on unsettling.

The rest of the ship’s company still approaching, including a redhead and woman who looked far too small to serve any real purpose; Shaafir faced his new commander.

“Xele. Shaaf-" he caught himself, native tongue refusing to go quietly "The Finch. Carpenter & surgeon.” He did not present his hand, and kept his words brief, ending his opening statement with a curt nod to the officers.

Kaitsu Hoin was a woman who was proud, not in the way westerners thought of pride, but it was the pride of one's self that kept one strong in the face of adversities. So, she was proud. Proud in her work, her instruments, her heritage and even her height. She was rather short, and many people overlooked her because of that, but she was nothing if not efficient. So, she became strong despite such a diminutive stature and specialized in running a ship-shape ship. She was a boatswain, or bo'sun, and would accept nothing but perfection as long as she remained on the ship in such a position.

Throughout the ceremony she couldn't help but think impatiently to herself, ignoring the words of the woman speaking. She was nothing to her, no matter the status, because she was scum. Everyone was who did not have their pride, and now days she found very few people who did have such a thing. It was rare now, and that was a shame. She remembers stories told to her by her grandfather as she sat at his feet of warriors long past and their bushido, their code of honorable living, their pride through which they set standards of conduct which they must meet. And finally, when she believed that there were no more like her that held onto old ways, or at least lived them without knowing of them, she had seen one Captain Gareth Fletcher. A man that held himself with pride. And since that day, it had been her determination, dream was too whimsical of a word she thought, to work with him as the only person who held such pride.

And now, now that that ambition is finally met after so many years of excelling, toiling and bumps in the road as a sailor, she let herself smile a little. But only for a second or so before the woman finally stopped speaking and the new crew mates went about learning of each other. Kaitsu had been more than happy meet some of these people and found that the woman-with-pride that stood next to her husband man-without-pride was to her taste, the master gunner was equally so and the scarred man, the Finch, was most notably a man she could work with. He was a man with pride, one who knew that his work was good and delighted in it. Yes, she would be glad to have him, the woman and that captain on this ship.

"I am Hoi-" She began before remembering that they introduced themselves with given name first, then family name and correcting her small slip, "Kaitsu Hoin. I am the boatswain." A quick look at the sun and she calculated the time almost precisely, so used to doing it rather than keeping inconsistent watches and such.

"We are already running late. That ceremony," the absolute distaste, not quite hatred for that was inefficient and useless, for such an equally useless and inefficient thing could easily be heard, "not only started late (how inefficient it was) but ran long." She stopped and, like the carpenter/surgeon, she didn't offer her hand but instead preformed a flawless quarter-bow at the waist (only a slight tilt of the upper body) in the proper fashion of her people. Usually she would only bow her head to acknowledge people, but she felt that if there was a ceremony of nay kind (no matter how useless) she ought to at least give some polite formalities. Rudeness was very frowned upon in her upbringing, and though she had lived with rough sailors and their ilk for quite some years, she had not abandoned such thoughts and her bushido was just as thickly bound to her as any warrior of her people.

Olivia saw the softening in Gareth’s eyes and before she could say anything introductions began. She slowly released his hand as he met his crew. Olivia moved to stand at his side, giving Gareth a full view of the officers and his crew.

She watched him through side glances as they each introduced themselves. Olivia held in her reaction as the sailing master referred to his “wife” as an it. She remained very impassive but it was easy to see the man’s nature made a few of the crew wary.

Gareth reluctantly released her hand and turned to his duties. His eyes hardened again as the sailing master introduced himself.

“Master Lotering, welcome aboard.” He was very formal in this greeting, the welcome sounding rote and slightly forced. He glanced at John’s hand gripping the arm of the woman he referred to as an it. This did not sit well with Gareth. He looked at the woman carefully and saw the hate there, "Oh no, this does not sit well at all. Why is she here?"

Gareth turned his gaze back to John. He narrowed his eyes, “Report to the ship. You and I will have some... issues to discuss.”

After dismissing the mapmaker Gareth turned to the ink covered Demician, “Master Zaal, a pleasure to have you aboard. I look forward to discussing the armament of my ship with you. Please, go aboard. I plan to address all my officers personally once the ship is away from land and officially in my control.”

Gareth then addressed the tall Ergolyse craftsman. In a halting, accented Ergol, “Shaafir, xele.” He grinned slightly, “Practiced that for a bit. Not great I know. I’ll call you Finch here on out, don’t want to further mutilate your language. It is good to have you aboard. Commanding a ship is much easier when she, and her crew, are well cared for. Again, I’ll speak more with you on the ship. I am... uneasy about certain aspects of other crew members and I would like your opinion.”

From one extreme to another, Gareth thought his neck would get quite the workout if he often had to address his carpenter and boatswain back to back too often. Gareth returned the bow as a superior officer would to a respected subordinate, “Hoin, I will not waste more time. This ship is to be ready to sail within twenty minutes. I know you will have it ready. We will discuss further how I like my ship run once under way. Happy to have you aboard.”

As the flame haired woman introduced herself, Gareth thought, "Ah yes. Good to see I had enough time still."

“Welcome aboard Jill. The answer to your question is simple. I have been preparing my crew for some time. Where I could I influenced the choices. Based on reputation I requested people who I knew would be good at their job. Who would fit my style of command. I was not born to be a captain, but if I am to be one I will ensure I stack the deck in my favour as much as possible. So, when I recently heard about you and your history I asked for you to be transferred. It wasn’t that hard to get agreement. I was just concerned there would not be enough time. But, you’re here. I have certain expectations that come with your reassignment and said stacking of the deck. We will discuss them further on the ship. The short answer to your question is, you’re here because I asked for you to be here.”

After Gareth gave his orders to the crew and they headed to the ship he turned to face Olivia again. This time, more prepared, he was able to look her in the eye and smile, “Olivia.”

He took her hand, “It has been far too long and I wish we were able to reunite under friendlier conditions. However, seeing you again...” He paused and looked at her fondly, “It’s not coincidence our ships are paired.”

Olivia had watched as Gareth diplomatically greeted each of the crew and sent them to the boat. She listened as Gareth told Jill that he had her moved. “Interesting....”

She was mildly taken aback as he turned to look at her again. This time is was she that reacted visibly as he took her hand. “Not a coincidence? Have you been pulling more strings then?” She smiled at him. Five years was a long time and yet, even with so much unspoken between them it was like old times.

Olivia shook her head, knowing what Gareth’s answer was going to be. “I am flattered that you would have us paired together. I know what getting the Hangman means to you.” A look of sadness passed over her features, something for him alone to see.

She squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I thought a great deal about you over these last years.” Olivia’s voice was quiet. “It is very good to see you again Gareth.”

“I don’t wait for things to happen fortuitously anymore Olivia. When I want something, I go after it now. I wanted to be back with you and I am. I wanted this crew, based on reputation, and I have them. However, it’s just reputation. You have seen them now. What do you think of them?”

Olivia was a little taken aback. Gareth was not the quiet, cautious man she had known but things had changed. “You wanted to be....” Olivia fell silent for a moment trying to compose herself. Her cheeks flushed slightly, uncharacteristically for her.

Clearing her throat slightly, she tucked a piece of her hair back under the bandanna that was holding it back. “Your crew. Yes I have been watching them. Not the marine, as you know obviously but the rest.” She nodded. “You chose well. Kaitsu is efficient. Your ship will be run well, no worries there. She works quickly and don’t let her size fool you. She is quite capable.”

“Your master gunner...” Olivia chuckled. “I would not let him ten leagues near gun powder except for what I have already seen him do more than makes up for the look in his eye. I have only watched him for a couple of days and while I think he is a little odd, he will do you well with his creativity.”

“Now, your carpenter. Gareth, the man was made for working on a boat. He knows the boat, he already has the Star’s ear. He knows her.” Olivia shook her head. She didn’t have the words to accurately depict the skill she had seen in the few days Finch had been on board.

“I have one warning for you Gareth. Your sailing master, the man is trouble.” Anger seethed just under her words. “The man is a drunk and there is no way he should be on your boat. He is not fit to sail a dingy let alone the Star.” Olivia stepped in close to Gareth. “Listen, it’s his wife. The native. She is the one that is making the maps, setting the courses. Be very careful Gareth, it is a fine line you will walk.” Olivia cast a glance to where the royal entourage was slowly leaving the dock. “It is John’s commission but her work. If you get rid of him, he will take her. If you keep him but bring attention to her, he will hurt her.” Olivia stepped back just slightly, enough to see Gareth’s face but still be close. “You need her if you are going to sail. She is good. But his temper is quick and violent. He will be drunk most of the time, mark me on this.”

Gareth listened intently as Olivia ran down the crew. He was momentarily distracted when she stepped in close and her scent brought back many pleasant memories. His attention was snapped back though as she mentioned John and his violent tendencies, “I understand Olivia. Thank you. It is good you warned me. I was wondering why the woman was coming aboard. I was about to kick her off my ship. Apparently I would have gotten rid of the wrong person. I will take care of this distraction before we meet any of our targets. This would not be good to have linger.”

He stepped back and looked her over once again. A soft smile played on his lips, “The mantle of captain looks good on you Olivia. I knew it would. I hope to be welcome aboard your ship some time when we weigh anchor. You will always be welcome aboard mine.”

Olivia smiled almost shyly as Gareth complimented her. “I...I am glad to see you on a boat again. I wish...” She looked to where the Jade Moon waited. “Yes, when we weigh anchor. I look forward to being able to catch up with you properly. Perhaps over some rum, in case it is chilly.” A playful smile now played there on her lips. She hoped that memory would mean as much to him as it did to her.

Memories brought a smile to Gareth’s face. Olivia leaned in again and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Gareth closed his eyes and relived a past moment, enjoying her presence.

Olivia stood straight again, her face the mask of professionalism. “I wish you smooth seas Captain Fletcher.” She turned and walked up the dock to her own ship. Olivia walked up the gangplank, stopping halfway to look back at him. She paused for a just a moment before going aboard the Jade Moon. Her figure lost in the activity there.

Gareth watched her as she moved away. Staring without leering. Finally, he nodded his head curtly and turned. He strode onto the ship just as the final orders to set sail were being given.

Once the ship had sailed more than a half kilometer from shore Gareth summoned the crew to the main deck. He stood on the quarter deck, looking over everyone. Fully assuming the role of captain he addressed the crew with authority, “Welcome aboard the Obsidian Star. Make no mistake, this is a fighting ship so I will demand utmost attention to detail and dedication to one’s tasks. We are hunting a great menace for all exploring nations. The Queen has asked us to bring them to justice. This is my ship, so I will interpret justice as I see fit. My justice will be meted out from the mouth of a cannon. From the barrel of a pistol. From the tip of a sword. I will give no quarter to these scum. I expect the same from all of you. We are within sight of shore still. If there is a problem with my justice, then you are welcome to swim back. If you stay aboard this ship I will expect you to behave as though this goal of meting justice is your personal goal, as it is mine. You are all fine sailors and I will treat you as such. We will have no problems if you perform as you are capable. Now, let’s sink some pirate scum.” With a cheer from the general crew Gareth stepped down to the main deck. The crew dispersed to their assigned tasks and Gareth sought out John.

With a slightly condescending tone he address the mapmaker, “Master Lotering. You and I have something to settle. You are commissioned as my sailing master. The reputation of... your... maps has been made very clear to me.” Gareth shifted his eyes to the woman then back to John, “However, it is very unusual to bring someone else with you. Why is she here? Is she to be a part of the general crew? In that case she can be assigned a bunk below decks, like the rest. And I will ensure she has her list of tasks to complete. I expect you will address her by name and not as property. I will not have people treated as property aboard my ship.”

Gareth stared at John expectantly. Waiting to see what this man could possibly say to maintain the illusion.

John nodded to Gareth as the captain told him they would have things to discuss and asked him to head onto the ship. He gripped Pavati’s arm harder and began to push his way past the others. His pull on her caused to her to bump into Edusrt and Shaafir. She managed to glance at them both before she cast her eyes downward again.

John pulled her up the gang plank. “You couldn’t just hold still, couldn’t just be still.” He was extremely angry with her. Pavati stumbled as they boarded the ship. The rocking under her feet as they stepped on deck made her stumble to her knees. John stopped as the woman collapsed. “Useless. Absolutely useless. I should let him throw you off the boat.” John reached down to grab her again.

Pavati looked up at him, hate burning in her eyes. “If you have him throw me off the ship I will run and you will be called out for the drunken fraud you are.” Her voice was strong as she spoke to him.

John paled slightly, “Get up!” He looked down over the railing to see the others coming aboard. “Get up!” He grabbed her arm twisting it as he pulled her onto her feet. Pavati winced, a hiss breaking through her teeth. Quickly he moved her into their small quarters.

John shoved her in and shut the door behind her. Pavati fell to the floor as he shoved her in. “You better keep your mouth shut. I need to figure this out.” She turned to scowl at him. John began to pace. Pavati huddled under the desk, attempting to remain out of his way. A bottle of rum, one of many that John had stashed, came out and he drank a swig every time he crossed the room.

By the time Gareth was back on board, John had a plan. It was weak but he hoped he could pull it off. He was also very drunk. John tripped slightly over his feet as he pulled Pavati to stand. He twisted her left arm painfully behind her back.

“Listen to me now, now...lisssten....” He slurred slightly, reeked of rum and Pavati held her breath. The twisting of her arm was growing steadily intense. “I will talk, you just stand there and try not to screw it up.” There was a pull on her arm, a twist up and Pavati heard a slight snap. Her face contorted with pain. John, oblivious to her discomfort, opened the door and forced her out and onto the deck.

Gareth gave his speech and John did his best to remain upright. It seemed to him that the sea in the port was choppy today. Beside him, Pavati kept her head down and held her left arm close across her body. She could move it but it hurt.

Around them, crew cheered the captain's speech, John barely remained standing and Pavati kept trying not to draw attention to herself. She did not belong here but she enjoyed the maps and calculations so much that part of her longed to be a part of this.

Gareth came down, found and addressed John directly. John tried very hard to stay stable. He did not notice the condescending tone or Gareth’s look at his wife. He was just trying to keep things straight in his head. He had a plan, or at least he was sure he did. John's mind was foggy and he wished the water wasn't so choppy today.

Pavati looked up as Gareth approached and she made note of everything. The way he talked to John, the look to her and the expectant way he waited for John to come up with some plausible reason for her to be on the ship. She held her arm and her breath, watching the man who would decide her fate.

John barely contained his anger at Gareth’s questions. He almost forgot this man was his captain. “It belongs to me. I brought it so I would not lose it or have it run away.You know how they can be." He sneered at the suggestion that she be removed from his quarters. "Not general crew. I hurt my hand, cramps sometimes. Old wound and all. From long ago days, you know how that is." John tried to give the Gareth a friendly smile. "She helps me with the maps when my hand aches.”

Pavati caught the slip. John referenced “her” and while she didn’t smile outwardly, inwardly she was gleefully laughing that Gareth could make John so uncomfortable.

John was now just barely comprehending what Gareth was saying about referring to her by name, not property. He had been too focused on his reasoning. He frowned heavily. “But it...she....” John fumbled over his words, the rum and anger making it hard for him to focus. He was enraged now, face turning very red. “She is needed to help with the maps. That is all. She is not general crew.” He was breathing heavy now and Pavati wondered if he might hit Gareth and secretly she hoped he would. Perhaps Gareth would punch John out, lord knew the man deserved it.

Pavati waited. Her arm began to ache terribly and she swallowed down the nausea it brought. Would Gareth accept such an explanation? Would he throw them off the boat? he obviously knew more than he was saying but then why the charade?

The boat rocked ever so gently but to Pavati, who had no sea legs, it felt as if she was being bounced side to side. She tried hard to remain on her feet and just narrowly succeeded. She made a small noise of pain as her arm jostled. Dark eyes looked immediately to John, praying the man hadn't heard. John was too focused on Gareth and trying not to blow up at the captain to notice such a minor thing.

"So she stays with me and helps when I need it. She will remain in the room and will stay out of the way." John rocked slighlty on his feet. "Acceptable Captain?"

Gareth almost passed out from intoxication just standing near the man as John began to speak. As he went on with his fanciful talk of an old injury Gareth could barely contain his contempt. “Old wounds? I know how it is? This man would be lucky to survive a basic training run with me.” He watched as both the man and the woman swayed as the boat rocked. The woman swayed and winced with the movement of the boat. John just swayed with his own drunken movements. Gareth looked over the woman again. The way she held her arm. The other bruising, faint, but visible. Gareth seethed.

Thinking quickly through his options, “I cannot possibly field promote a non crewman to officer within the first hour of my captaincy. Everyone on this crew knows it’s the right thing to do but the optics would not be right. I need to put her in a position to show her abilities and I need to put this lout in a position to destroy his unearned reputation. In good time. But will she survive long enough?”

Gareth knew he had to tread carefully lest the man take his embarrassment out on the woman. However, this lack of discipline, this dereliction of duty, could not be allowed.

“Actually, John will take care of my problem just by being himself,” he realized. All he had to do was put John in a position where the result was obviously John’s alone.

He gritted his teeth, looked at the woman with an apologetic glance and stated, “You may have your assistant, Lotering. That is an acceptable arrangement,” he paused and stared him dead in the eye, “for now. Though I will know her name. Not that I would be surprised if you’ve forgotten it. I would not be surprised if you’ve forgotten your own name.”

Gareth drew himself into an authoritative stance. He stared at his drunken ‘sailing master’ with disdain. “That being settled for the moment, there is dereliction of duty to discuss.” Gareth raised his voice, ensuring much of the crew would hear. Gareth was going to use this as an example and show the rest of the crew what he would and would not accept while on duty.

“Lotering, your condition is a disgrace. It is an insult to your position. An insult to your crew mates and an insult to me, personally. You are not fit for active duty. I am relieving you as ship’s master until you are sober. If I ever see such a disgusting display from you again you will spend a week in the brig. This ship must be ready to make fast course adjustments and always be aware of where she is. If you cannot provide this service I will find someone who can. I don’t want to see you again until you are sober. You are to stay in quarters and sleep it off.” Gareth stepped quite close to John, nose to nose, “Do you understand me sailor? You are treading very near to your career’s destruction. Don’t think I will give you any leeway beyond what I am begrudgingly giving you now.” Gareth stared at John, barely attentive to any response he might have to his orders. He watched, more out of concern that he treated the woman properly than out of any worry that his orders were not going to be followed.

Gareth waited until John and the woman walked away before he turned to his next task.

He knew his next stop would have to be his boatswain. He had a discipline issue to address and it was a good way to establish the expectations of a tight, well run, ship. He had no worries that Kaitsu would perform these duties well, but he wanted to ensure the dialogue was open and he would need some help to ensure John was exposed as the fraud he was. Gareth found Kaitsu and addressed her, “Kaitsu, good work, as expected, getting the ship underway quickly. I don’t expect I have to tell you I like a tightly run ship. We cannot afford little delays because we are under prepared. I knew I would not have to worry about that with you aboard. Keep me informed about the goings on of the crew. Let me know if you see trouble brewing. Zaal will no doubt have experiments and projects. Give him reign as long as he doesn’t blow up the ship.” He grinned a little.

Gareth sighed and became more serious, “That said, we do have a problem to address. John is a drunk. He cannot be trusted with alcohol. I need you to search his quarters and remove every trace... except.” He moved a little closer to her and lowered his voice, “Leave one. I know it’s not in your nature to do an incomplete job, but this part is to complete another task that is more important. We need to get this man off the ship, but we need to have him show his own incompetence. It is too early for me to unilaterally remove a crew member. Yet, we all know he should be removed. Let’s let him tie his own noose. Leave one. He will find it. He will use it. He will provide his own destruction. I will then be in position to make a change and promote the person who is more deserving of the role.”

Gareth stepped back and nodded, “Thank you Kaitsu. I will send Finch with you. I think the woman is injured and I think Finch may be in a position to provide me additional support for my case against John.”

Gareth then sought out the tall surgeon and waved him over. “I did it again. Back to back. This may be more common than I thought.”

Once Finch approached, Gareth looked up, “Fine work in these ships. I am happy to have one of your reputed skill and craft aboard. I will endeavor to keep your work minor, both on the ship and on my crew, but it is comforting to know I have someone who can cover anything we may run across.”

Again, Gareth addressed the issue with John in a serious manner, “Finch, I’m aware of your history. I hope to provide some benefit from a horrid past. The woman with John is injured. I have my suspicions. You may be in a good spot, both from your history and as a doctor, to recognize a specific cause of an injury. Please, if you notice anything about the woman’s injuries, come directly to me. Do not confront John. That would make my job harder. I just need proof to back up my move to have him off this ship. I would appreciate any help you could provide in that. Kaitsu is going into his quarters momentarily to search them. If you would accompany her to look at the woman’s injuries and to provide back up if John gets resentful of the intrusion.”

Instinctually Shaafir did his best to avoid the woman who was pulled almost directly into his chest by her thoughtless husband. The dock was tightly cluttered with bodies, and despite his efforts both he and Edgar bumped roughly into their true navigator. A putrid stench left in John’s wake caused the Elgoysian’s nose to rumple in disgust. Though he had long since dismissed any notion of a benevolent god, he silently prayed for the woman’s sake that the alcoholic fraud had not cursed her with any children yet.

Keen peripheral vision caught him as he turned to board. A parting kiss from one captain to another? This thickened the plot. Though it was of little surprise, Finch had a nose for reading people, his suspicions now confirmed as Gareth watched her disappear onto The Jade Moon. Chaos and trauma had a funny way of driving people together, and if The Hangman and her crew were involved in the two captains shared past it was undoubtedly involved both in droves. His prying eyes back towards the ship as the captain turned, not wanting to seem overly inquisitive on private matters; quickly following Gareth on board.

The gentle lull of the ship felt good under Finch’s feet. He stood still, allowing the river of sailors and crewmen to pour around him, squinting up at the crow‘s nest and slowly running his eyes up and down the entire structure on which it was perched. Even through the harsh flare of the sun hiding just behind the furled sail his trained eyes could make out the hearty reinforcement. Much of the wood in the New World was denser, heavier, less prone to splitting and snapping. It appeared who ever drafted the plans for this vessel was more than aware. Using a clever triangular base to double both as an initial ladder and sturdy support for the towering mast. It was likely that even a direct blast from a heavy cannon wouldn’t collapse the beam, a fact Shaafir was more than grateful for.

He smiled approvingly, turning and running his fingers across the smooth surface of the banister. He had the benefit of not having much to do initially besides get a feel for the ship. Mercifully no one had been shot yet, which was more than he could say for some of the crew he had the misfortune of being assigned to. Even “her majesty’s” royal navy was caulk full of ignorant and violent men. Finch had already picked up on the eyes and whispered words between some of the marines and sailors he walked amongst, even others from Ergolyse were occasionally bigoted towards his people, Berghul, Sand-Walkers. Truthfully it was of little concern, they’d not last very long without his talents and even the most hateful man knew the value of a doctor on board. In his childhood a woman had been saved herself from being ravished by the entire crew aboard The Skyward Star with her medical knowledge. It was a lesson he often repeated to himself when his stomach started to turn.

As the crew assembled on the main deck just out of port the Captain addressed the crew, making clear his intentions and rules while aboard the vessel. There was a discernable hardness to his voice, like a scary mask put on to frighten children, to emphasis his point. Yes, there was no doubt. Gareth wouldn’t stop until he caught up with his past or it destroyed him. His eyes had gone cold and dark, revealing an internal fire that burned like a frozen ocean wind on bare flesh.

Finch shuddered slightly. There was little qualm he had with violence in the face of self preservation; but a vendetta like Gareth’s could drive a man to do horrible, deceitful things in the name of the greater good. It was a dangerous line they would be walking, Shaafir promised himself to be vigilant, especially once they found themselves hot on the trail of their pirate prey.

As the crew dispersed to their work, Shaafir briefly busied himself admiring more of the ship’s construction before the call of his pseudonym drew his attention to their captain. In a handful of long strides he had made his way to their leaders side, who seemed to be discussing something with the smallest member of their crew.

Only his eyes smiled with pride for only a passing moment at Gareth’s remark of his skill, attention too quickly focused on the words which came next. His face hardened, muscles in his jaw puffing out as teeth clamped together. The fact Gareth seemed to be on top of the situation did little to comfort Shaafir in the knowledge John was not to be dealt with promptly.

“Ni’ghatta! Dezoleh hauk-” Finch growled in uncharacteristic protest. Catching himself, his face contorted in frustration. “Yes, Captain. This one will see your task done.”

His eyes turned downward to meet Kaitsu, their tiny boatswain, who seemed to be sizing him up considerably as she moved ropes that seemed to outweigh her by a great deal. The pair paused a moment, the intentions of both unclear but the goal the same. Shaafir wordlessly steered to the door which housed the drunken abuser and his wife, awaiting his much smaller companion to follow suit.

Kaitsu made a small show of getting up for the large man who was to be her partner for the first objective given to them specifically by the Captain. She already thought that he was a good, proud man, one that she could respect.

"Come on. We must see to the Captain's orders." Without making sure the giant of a man was following her, she was sure he wouldn't disobey his captain, that would be dishonorable, Kaitsu began walking briskly, and efficiently with an economy of moment, as she always does, towards the intended cabin.

Within moments she had crossed the ship and knocked on the cabin door and without waiting for more than a second or two, for she had no love for such an unprideful man, she opened the door. The flimsy lock that should have been replaced, it was only a temporary lock that had been overlooked, simply broke without much resistance to the small woman who held more strength than it looked to be possible.

A quick look around revealed to Kaitsu a single bunk, a table and a chair in the small quarters. There are two chests which she assumed, quite correctly, to be the personal belongings of the two inhabitants. The bed is made though there is another blanket almost carelessly tossed on top creating a falsely slovenly look. The man sat on the bed, looking intoxicated still, and the woman at his feet beside him. Kaitsu nearly snarled at such a position, especially as the woman seemed to be favoring her left arm, it sat quite delicately in her lap and her clothes were much too large, and there was a red mark on her cheek that most assuredly wasn't there when they boarded the ship.

"I have been ordered by the Honorable Captain Gareth Fletcher to search these quarters for any substances with which a man might become intoxicated and therefore ignore their promised duties," Kaitsu shot a sharp glare at the man in question, though her voice never wavered from its impossibly bored tone, however if one knew how to listen, cruel amusement could easily be heard, "And confiscate them." Those three words were said so resolutely that there was no way that they could possibly be disputed, especially with such an imposing man in stature as the one behind her. Though what she did not have in stature was made up in the absolutely dangerous way she moved, in the way of a predator. Every move was calculated and composed and contributed to her goal.

Kaitsu began looking immediately, there was no reason to wait and her search easily yielded results. The bottles were not particularly well hidden in the first place. First, the chest closest to her. Four bottles of rum and, it appears, other than the bottles everything was messily tossed into this chest. In the second chest there is yet another bottle of rum, a great deal of parchement, instruments for measuring and calculating. There are some seal skin wraps for protecting the maps from water damage, ink and quills. This chest is much neater and well packed. The bottle appears out of place with the neat and organized way that the rest of the gear is packed. Someone obviously took a great deal of care to protect the ink and quills, as well as the spyglass from transportation damage. In the bottom of the second chest there is also two simple shift dresses and a comb. These things appear to have been folded as small as possible, tucked far down and convered as if being hidden. Another sneer worked itself onto her face.

Searching the rest of the room she found another bottle of rum stashed under the mattress and an empty bottle that is laying on the floor. Kaitsu took great pleasure in snatching these up and holding them seemingly carelessly. And stashed in between the two chests, it looks like someone, not very well of course, was trying to hide it, it being a chain with a cuff large enough for a forearm, or ankle. She had guessed as much from the faint rattle if she heard when she knocked on the door to come and inspect the room. As if it were hastily hidden, poorly at that. And with that, she leaned in the doorway and watched with hawk-like eyes the large carpenter/surgeon deal with the woman.

The petite woman muttered something about following orders as she rapped upon the heavy wooden door, visibly eager to roust the drunken cartographer. There was no response, nothing more than the hiss of the waves as the boat rolled upon the midday ocean. He gave her a small nod to encourage what came next, the small girl easily cracking through the latch which had secured the door shut in case of high winds. Making a mental note to deal with it later, perhaps reinforce the mechanism based on what little fight it put up, he followed Kaitsu inside.

It was a sorry sight. Shaafir’s eyes were immediately drawn to the unsteady swaying of the man precariously perched halfway on his small bunk. The crumpled form of his wife huddled by his feet, watching silently. An intense fire burned in her eyes, barely contained behind the stern expression. Their small boatswain wasted no time, heading straight towards the pair of chests which rested not far from the bed itself, insistently relaying her orders to the stumbling drunk.

John stood, his tongue managing to slur out a handful of choice words for the duo, making special note to emphasis the hatred in his voice while referring to the color of Finch’s skin. The drunk took several uneasy steps toward Kaitsu, his finger raised accusingly as he continued to holler his thoughts on the situation. In a single long stride Shaafir placed himself between them, itching for an excuse to put the man down. Though she carried herself with an unwavering confidence, Kaitsu was still quite small and knowing full well he was not opposed to laying into a female, Finch didn’t care to find out what he might do to the boatswain.

Shaafir locked in on the glazed eyes of John, shaking his head. The message was clear. Don’t. With a commanding point of his finger, he dictated where he believed John belonged, in the corner, away from the action. To his credit, despite his intoxication, the fraudulent mapmaker seemed to realize he was getting in over his head. With lips hanging open lazily, he marched himself in the direction of the pointed finger.

With the primary obstacle overcome, Finch set his sights on tending to the fuming woman still nestled by the foot of the bed. Even from several feet away it was clear she wore a new handprint across her face, the stinging pink of her flesh a clear indicator she had been hit with some force not moments before their entrance. Similarly her arm seemed to be held stiffly, as if she was trying to keep it from being jostled, her elbow cocked awkwardly outward. Shaafir frowned, eyes briefly snapping to the drunk in the corner to make sure he knew the trouble he had brought on himself.

Approaching slowly, he knelt to better inspect the injured arm.

“Xele. Niv‘tsun apovi.” He whispered quietly, the careful tone and movements making clear his intentions more than his words. Reaching out to gingerly take the arm in question into his practiced hands.

“Dunn yuu tuch ‘er!” John barked angrily, moving from his given corner. Shaafir was instantly back to his feet, healing hands clenched into tight fists. Finch said nothing, instead staring down the drunken man who took a handful more steps in his direction. Shaafir’s fierce gaze slowed the man, and, as if suddenly realizing the line he was about to cross, John slumped back to his corner.

Returning to kneel he gestured with his fingers to assure the woman he meant her no harm. As her legs fell from their place tucked beneath her chin, Shaafir caught sight of the heavy bruising around her ankle. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting across Shaafir’s face as if trying to read him before allowing him to inspect her arm. Cautiously he pushed up the fabric of her far too large clothing, revealing dozens of dark blotches. Though they were scattered randomly it was quite clear they were a result of the manhandling he had witnessed earlier, the fastened claw of a grip John kept on her at all times. Holding her upper arm in place he smoothly ran his free hand up and down the outstretched arm, his eyes locked on her features to spot where it was the pain was oriented. As he passed over her forearm there was a fleeting wince, nearly gone before it had even began. It was clear the woman was used to having to bury her feelings, a fate worse less enviable than death as Shaafir himself could attest.

“Kah. Vishu.” He gave her a quick flash of his radiant smile, the edge tainted by the wretched scar across his face. No problem, wasn’t nearly as bad as he had originally feared. Trained hands surrounding the area, Finch’s fingers lightly pressed into her flesh to judge the set of the bone. The woman hissed as he made a quick movement of his thumbs, removing all doubt that it was at the very least fractured. “Splint.” Shaafir said doggedly.

A jingling sound behind him stole his attention from the injured arm, revealing Kaitsu holding a small chain. Finch’s head tilted in question as the wheels in his mind began to add two and two together. Almost absentmindedly he peered down at the woman’s foot, the ugly purple and blue stains which marred her ankle. As he did so, the woodworker in him took over from the doctor, gaze falling to the damaged leg of the nearby desk. It seemed as though the wood had been slowly eroded, craggy splinters littered the ground around the worn wood.

Shaafir’s eyebrow arched, pupils staring through the peripheral at the woman by his feet. As she had yet to take her eyes off him, she seemed to notice the slight deviation in his gaze, and gifted him with a small nod as if to confirm his suspicions. Turning back to the much smaller Kaitsu, he took the chain from her child-sized hands, an accusing glare written across his scarred features.

“Captain.” He said casually, head flicking in the direction of the door, indicating it was time to get moving.

Without another word, he turned, holding his hand down to the abused woman on the floor, not keen to leave her alone with John for any amount of time if he could help it. John visibly bristled, but remained silent, pinned into the corner by Shaafir’s menacing stare. A moment passed, his offered hand not taken by the woman, he met her eyes apprehensively peering up at him.

“Splint.” he repeated.

Pavati held her arm steady as she tried desperately to keep her balance and move towards the cabin. Something was going on and she wasn't quite sure what it was. The captain had told John she could stay but the look on his face was almost apologetic. He also called him to account for his drunken state and this made her extremely happy. Confined to his quarters did not however as it meant that she too was stuck with him and despite the order to sober up she knew it would be morning before he stopped drinking and was anything close to right again.

They stepped into the cabin and John slammed the door behind him. He shoved her and already off balance, Pavati fell to the floor. She tried to stop the fall with her hands but as she landed her arm gave out. A yelp of pain brought John's gaze to her. “What do you have to complain about? This is your fault...”

Stumbling, he grabbed her leg and yanked her towards the desk. The chain was once again secured to her ankle. Pavati fumed.

“What are you looking at?” John growled. The sound of his open palm on her cheek bounced off the walls of the small cabin. Pavati turned her head back to look at him as he stood and moved away. She swallowed the hate that balled up in her throat, it would do her no good.

He was grumbling to himself, cursing her, the captain and every last member of blasted crew on the ship. A knock on the door made him halt in his pursuit of another bottle. “Who the fuck...” It dawned on his impaired mind. The captain would want his room searched. As quickly as he could he released her from the chain, throwing it haphazardly between the two chests. John grabbed Pavati by her hair and dragged her to sit at his feet by the bed.

Taking a seat, half lulling to the side John glared as his door was forced in. Pavati, pulled her legs up, making herself as small as she could and held her arm against her chest in an attempt to protect it and herself from whatever might happen.

The sight at the door, the small boatswain and the tall, dark skinned carpenter made then both pause. Pavati didn't smile but she wanted to when the woman said she was going to search the cabin and confiscate John's bottles. Instead she stared at them as they moved into the small room. Above her, John barely remained upright on the bed.

The woman began her search and John grew angrier and angrier. Words of hate spilled forth, no longer tempered in his rage. As Kaitsu began pulling his bottles out of the chest, John stood. Swaying slightly he moved towards the boatswain.

Pavati blinked and in that instant the man now stood between John and Kaitsu. Pavati watched him closely. There was so much expressed in his face, he didn't need to speak to make it clear to John that coming at Kaitsu would be a grave mistake. John paused and Pavati wondered if he would challenge the carpenter. Instead, John moved himself into the corner.

Pavati watched as Kaitsu went through both chests. She hoped the woman wouldn't break or damage any of the articles in her chest. Pavati had taken painstaking care to pack it. The woman appeared thorough but not clumsy. Movement drew her attention from the small woman.

Pavati stared as Shaafir knelt in front of her. He reached out for her arm, speaking quietly in a language she did not know and Pavati swallowed slowly. Just as his hands got close to her, John spoke up from the corner. Even Pavati stopped breathing at the look that was shot in his direction. There was a quiet strength to man in front of her. The anger in his eyes died as he turned to look at her again. A gentleness and compassion now lay in the face that look at her. It was not an expression she was used to seeing.

Shaafir reached for her arm again and Pavati lowered her legs to allow him access to the damaged limb. The movement caused her pant leg to ride up and Pavati immediately looked up at Shaafir. She wondered if he would say anything, she would suffer if he did. He said nothing but did take the pause at the bruises there and on her arm. Pavati noticed the gentle and practiced way he held her arm, the way the fingers moved along the skin and gently prodded for the place that hurt. Pavati gritted her teeth and kept her eyes on his face. She wanted to tell him where it hurt, he was obviously there to help her but help always came at a price.

Shaafir gave her a quick smile, a gesture that made Pavati pause. White teeth flashed on the back drop of his dark skin and even with the edge of it altered by his scar the action was disarming. Fingers pressed and found the broken bone. Pavati hissed through clenched teeth and her eyes shut for a moment.

The rattle of the chain, her chain made Pavati's eyes flash open. The woman in her searching had found it, not that John had done a good job of hiding it. She could see Shaafir's mind working out the implications in his head. He looked down at her ankle and then he looked to the desk. Pavati knew that he had figured it out. Her eyes followed all of his movements and when he glanced sideways at her, Pavati knew he was waiting for confirmation. There was no sense in hiding it.

A small, subtle nod was all she could give him. Enough for him to notice but not enough for John to be able to use against her.

Pavati jumped slightly as Shaafir took the chain and stated they were going to the captain. Her head turned quickly to look at John. He was quiet but clearly unhappy. The dark hand in front of her, held out to help her up confused her. Pavati looked up to the owner of the hand. She wasn't sure if she should dare take it. For the second time it was stated that she needed a splint.

Her mind was at war. Part of her want to stay, not to make it worse for anyone. The other part of her, the part that was in pain, the part that wanted to be away from John told her to take the hand, stand and leave the room. Her gaze flickered to the small woman and then to John.

Pavati reached out with her good hand and took the calloused hand of the carpenter. She used his strength to help her to stand. Pavati wavered on her feet and looked up at Shaafir apologetically. She was not like them, steady on the rocking of the ship. Her grip on his hand tightened as she struggled not to fall into him.

John, seeing her take the dark man's hand and stand, bolted out of his corner. “Mine! It doesn't leave this cabin!” He was spitting in his rage as he came forward at them.

Instinctively, Pavati flinched and unthinking shielded herself against Shaafir. She waited for the hand that would grab her and yank her away.

“Mine! It doesn't leave this cabin!” That made her angrier than she had been in a long time, and and angry Kaitsu in and of itself was a rare thing to behold. However, this man, it seemed, had a great talent for angering people. And, for the first time in many years, Kaitsu was angry.

"Mine, you say?" Each word was accentuated by a menacing step towards the drunkard. "Doesn't leave the cabin, you say? Who are you to command me, sir?" It was spat out like sour wine from Kaitsu's mouth, the mocking pleasantry. She had little to no tolerance for this man anymore. Setting bottles down as she advanced, Kaitsu subtly placed four knives in each hand, not showing them quite yet for maximum effect.

"You, sir, have been placed under my command, and do you, sir understand what a bo'sun's job is, aboard a ship?" An eerie smile grew slowly on her lips and her teeth glinted black and sharp under the dim light in the cabin, and in that moment, she looked as big and terrible as any other being. "Well, I'll tell you anyway. My job aboard this ship, is to keep it moving efficiently, without any problems, and problems are defined by myself as anything that ruins such an efficiency. You, sir, are one of those problems. And, would you like to know the other job of a boatswain? The other job that has been so granted to my, by the power of the Captain and the Queen who funds this ship, is punishment of unruly crewmembers who disobey the laws of the ship as set down by Captain or Queen."

She flicked her wrists in an exaggerated movement and the four knives in each hand appeared seemingly out of nowhere and held between her fingers as if a mockery of glinting claws. She was angry enough that it disrupted her logical mind, though it was still efficient as it was used to put on a bit of a show.

"Now, sir, do you think that you can question mine or my Captain's authority on this ship to take a passenger," this grated on her tongue as the woman was obviously more capable, "where we so please?" Her voice had taken a sudden turn from promised-threat to sickeningly-sweet, and that was most definitely the scarier of the two. Kaitsu patted his cheek lightly with her knives and they were so sharp that three small lines of flowing red appeared on his cheek and one on the side of his neck, just where a killing blow to the jugular would be.

Relief washed over Shaafir as the woman finally accepted his hand, his solid frame easing her to her feet with little effort. It took a strong soul to turn your back on that which frightened you, held you prisoner. Briefly the Elgoysian envisioned himself years ago, staring out the ragged hole in The Skyward Star, the splattered remains of Heldreg stretched out behind him. It had taken him nearly a full minute to leap from the ship to his salvation, his mind conjuring images of the angry wrath of his vicious captor following him, even in death. Shaafir saw so much of himself in her as she stood beside him. There was a slight gloss to her eyes, as if fighting back tears, not out of frustration or fear, but that of apology. Almost as if embarrassed by her own status as a victim. She wobbled uneasily, hand clamping down around his own.

John’s reaction wasn’t at all unexpected. In a single fluid movement a sinewy arm wrapped itself around the native woman’s waist as Shaafir lifted her against him and turning his body like a shield, keeping his vision faced towards the fuming fraud. In truth Shaafir had half heartedly hoped another man, let alone an Elgoysian, touching his wife in any capacity would send John over the edge. The tension in the air had been palpable the entire day, John doing nothing but make enemies upon first arrival of the docks, Shaafir had simply discovered the means to provoke it sooner than the others. It would be another notch against John’s continuance as their “esteemed” map maker.

Kaitsu’s reaction however, caught Finch off guard, the tiny boatswain oozed with a malice which seemed to chill the air around her. Perhaps hearing the woman referred to as property had marked the end of her fuse, for now she seemed an entirely different creature. Predatory and menacing, there was the tinkle of metal as the candlelight caught on the blades of her hidden knives. He gave Pavati a brief once over to make sure she was able to hold her own footing before turning attention back to Kaitsu.

Pinned to the corner with a look of sheer horror upon his face, John seemed to be fighting the tremors which wracked his alcohol dulled body. Though Shaafir doubted Kaitsu would lose complete control of herself, he didn’t wish to give the idiot any leverage when it came to telling his side of the story.

A firm calloused hand gripped Kaitsu’s shoulder, turning the woman to face him.

“Unworthy,” His face was stern as he referenced the cowering drunk in the corner, his tone even, displaying a keen understanding of the situation. They had to do this right way. If Gareth’s tactics failed, more blatant actions were sure to follow.

“Captain.” he stated flatly.

The hand never came. Instead as John's voice yelled that she was his an arm wrapped about her waist and held her steady and away from the commotion. Pavati looked up from where she had hid against Shaafir to find the carpenter was using his body to shield her. The man was looking at John and Pavati was relieved. He wouldn't see the confusion in her face. He had to no reason to protect her like he was and yet he had still done it.

Pavati heard the small woman's voice as she approached John. It reminded her of the venom from a snake, dripping and alarming.

For his part, John began to come at the man who held his wife but stopped dead as the small woman move towards him. He backed away from her, fear taking over where the anger had been. Horrified he watched the woman come at him. Then a flash of something in her hand and his fear increased.

Pavati watched as the boatswain approached John, she could see the blades in her hand. Her eyes met Shaafir's and Pavati tried to steady herself. He stepped away and towards the small woman. He got to her as she had finished patting John's cheek.

John didn't flinch, the blades were too sharp for him to feel them as they left small lines on his cheek and neck. He blinked, trembling slightly and then the slight sting set in. She had cut him. Blood slowly ran from the cuts. John's eyes went even wider as the dark skinned man came up behind the blade wielding woman. John shook now, pinned like a common rat in the corner.

He jumped as the man's voice called him unworthy. He wanted to lunge at the man, he had put his hands on his wife and was trying to take her, now he insulted him but his fear held him back. Even with all the rum in him he wasn't stupid enough to attack them both.

Pavati backed up against the wall as she watched the pair in front of John. Her feet wouldn't move, all she could do was stand there and try not to fall. She held her arm steady against her body. Pavati kept her breathing steady, not wishing to draw any attention to herself or make things worse.

It was stated again, they were going to the captain and Pavati waited to see what would happen. She was willing to go with them and from the look on John's face she didn't think he would be trying to stop them this time. Pavati could see the lines of blood on John's face and she wondered what the woman would have done if she had not been stopped.

John swallowed. He narrowed his blood shot eyes at them, a sneer in his voice, “Take it, fix it up and bring it back. The captain already said I got to keep it so there is nothing you can do about it.” It was mock bravado in attempt to hide the terror that was eating away at him now.

Pavati waited to see what would happen.

"Yes, I know. I dislike dirtying my blades with scum..." Kaitsu said, back to her usual bored tone and strictly efficient manner.

"Come, we go to the captain to report." She gathered up the bottles of alcohol and threw the chain over her shoulders with a faint hint of that malicious grin still lingering, otherwise no one would never know what had transpired in that cabin. The door to the cabin hadn't been shut properly, the locks had been broken after all, and so the small Kaitsu Hoin deceptively delicately nudged the door open with her hip and nearly sauntered across the ship, her mood improving with each step as she thought of all the wonderful military-issue punishments (and then some that were rather... questionable in origin and nature) that might possibly befall to her to dole out on such a horrid bottom dweller of a scum of a man.

Her smooth, quick steps made her seem almost like she was gliding across the wooden surface and if not for the calculated effort put into each and every movement and non-movement, one might almost comment that there seemed to be a slight skip in her step. Not that Kaitsu would ever let such a thing happen.

Stopping in front of the Captain's quarters she cleared her throat in a quite deliberate manner, just loud enough to be heard through the wood and across the room inside, and lightly tapped the door with her foot, having no hands available to do so in a more traditionally dignified way.

"Captain Fletcher-taisho," True she needn't add her native honorific as it meant the same thing as the title of 'captain,' but it made her feel significantly less awkward, less like she was calling him too familiarly. That would be rather disrespectful and dishonorable and it would rather be a bother if she was forced to apologize through the ceremonial means of becoming a hitokiri-jin... No matter how she looked at it, it was better this way.

"We have the woman and I have confiscated all alcohol from that chikuso temeyarou. There was also a chain. Well used..." She would leave it at that. It would fall to the carpenter/surgeon to explain the rest with the woman. She had more important things to do. Like plot the death of certain people and run a ship... Besides, she really didn't want to get mad again, it was bad enough in front of witnesses left alive, let alone in front of the captain.

The room was thick with tension. Shaafir’s comment hung in the air. Pavati watched as Kaitsu moved away from John and lowered her blades. The small woman stated that they were leaving and heading to the captain.

John wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt once the tiny, threatening woman stepped away. He began to restate his position but his voice died away when it became clear that they were ignoring him.

Pavati realized suddenly that they were serious. The pair was in fact going to take John’s alcohol and her out of the room and to the captain. Part of her assumed it was a ploy to scare John into sobering up but now it sunk in that they were leaving the room, without John. Pavati tried desperately to control her breathing, panic creeping up her spine. She hadn’t been out of John’s sights since he had taken her from her family.

Her eyes caught the look on John’s face. There was anger in his eyes, the likes of which Pavati had never seen before. She was sure if he could get his hands on her that more than just her arm would suffer. He clearly hated the two people in the room but there was no way he could come at them. Pavati felt sure that when she returned to him he would kill her. Her eyes closed briefly. She raised her chin and opened her eyes again. So be it.

Kaitsu passed by her and nudged the door open. Pavati wobbled slightly on her feet and waited for Shaafir. She knew there was no way she could follow without falling. Once the dark skinned man was close enough to her again, Pavati lightly steadied herself on his arm. She gave him another apologetic look.

“I am not used to a rocking floor...” Her voice was a quiet whisper to Shaafir.

Her eyes were cast down as they exited the room. Pavati kept waiting for John to rush forward and pull her back into the room. By the time the trio reached the captain’s door Pavati was doing her best to control her panic again. "What will the captain expect of me?" She looked at Shaafir, her internal question clear on her features as Kaitsu knocked.

Pavati’s eyes snapped to the doorway as Kaitsu began to explain what they found. Uncertainty washed over her and she felt slightly ill. Her grip on Shaafir tightened briefly before she realized what she was doing and let go. She hated feeling like a trapped animal, hated it almost as much as she hated John.

***

John watched the dark man take Pavati out of the room and he was seething even more. Standing, he threw the first thing his hand landed on at the door. The small metal instrument, for measuring distances on a map, fell to the floor. His drunken state made the throw weak and wild.

He stumbled about the small cabin, grumbling angrily to himself. They had taken all his bottles. The small bitch had taken them all, likely dumping them over the side at this very moment. Or worse, she, the captain and the man were drinking it. Maybe they were mocking him or letting Pavati drink. “How dare they....”

John’s mind went through all sorts of scenarios of what was happening in Gareth’s cabin. He needed a drink. Badly. Tripping over the blanket he made his way to the chests. Somehow the blanket had ended up on the floor. Likely the wench with the blades pulled it off as she searched his room, trying to make him look like a slob. John tossed the chests open. Gone, every bottle was gone. A loud angry growl erupted from him.

His eyes went to the wall. John smiled. He was a sneaky bugger, at least in his own mind. He moved to the wall and pulled at the loose board. He had stashed one bottle here, just in case. He was glad the boatswain was a woman, only a woman would miss that sort of detail. “Stupid, stupid bitch...no contest for this man.” He mocked the woman who only minutes before had almost made him wet himself.

Taking his last bottle, John sat on the bed. He popped the cork and began to drink. His mind wandered back to what the captain or the dark skinned man might be doing with Pavati. The mocking drunk became an angry one.

John swayed and looked at his bottle. Empty. He was confused. It couldn’t possibly be empty already. Hadn’t he just opened it?

“You...bring me another...” John looked around the room for Pavati. Then he remembered. No woman and no more booze. The bottle clunked to the floor and John wiped his mouth. They took them, took it all.

He sat on the bed, falling heavily on his side and drifted in and out of consciousness. In a small moment of clarity he remembered the officers were to meet in Gareth’s cabin. There was no way he could function without a drink; he knew he would need a small nip just to get him through all the talking. Something to take the edge off the headache it would give him. Hell, he was getting one just thinking about it. Sitting up, he rubbed his head and pondered his problem.

Someone on this wretched boat had to have a drink. John pushed himself unsteadily up and off of the bed. He made his way to the door and out onto the deck.
Most were going about their business, crew not worthy enough to talk to an officer like him. John spotted the bareheaded man....the gunner...at least that is what he thought he was. How was he supposed to keep them all straight?

Rocking on his feet, John watched him. He had a pipe between his teeth and a flask in his hand. “Oh merciful god, there is hope for good men in this world.” John decided that Zaal being on deck with his flask was a message from heaven, just for John.

He approached the Demician. “Nice water tonight....should be...be smooth sailing.” John offered Zaal a smile. “Didn’t get your name earlier friend. Too busy with my clumsy assistant. Good help and all that...” John was rambling and leaned on the rail to steady himself.

“Went and broke an arm...that bad. I sent it off to be fixed up. Only right you know? “ His tone made him sound as if he was a very caring and sympathetic man. It had been his idea that they take her and fix that arm after all.

John raised an eyebrow at Zaal, “Not a talkative man...I like it....care to share a sip of that with a friend and fellow officer?” John hadn’t in reality let Zaal say anything yet as the words just kept streaming from him. He reached a hand out towards Zaal, clearly expecting the man to share his flask.

Gareth was in his cabin, arranging it for the meeting later when he heard the rattle of a chain. Confused, he looked up as the door opened and Kaitsu, Finch and Pavati came in. He raised his eyebrow at the sight of Pavati without John. He could only imagine the mood John must be in to be separated from his ‘possession.’ The gentle rocking of the ship was obviously making it hard for the woman to stand, especially with her obvious injury.

The captain’s cabin on the Obsidian Star was not one of extreme luxury as might be seen on a rich trading vessel, or military ship. It was spacious though. A desk was along the back wall, where a small window looked out to stern. In front of the desk was a wooden chair. A good sized bunk on the port side wall, with cotton sheets and a pillow, was neatly turned down. Near the bunk was a trunk for Gareth’s personal possessions and another wooden chair. A door to a private washroom was on the starboard side. The door was slightly ajar and a small bathtub and toilet, with an actual seat, could be seen. A table stood in the centre of the room. It was large enough to spread out a map and have the officers circled around it to read. A lantern hung above the table and another was secured to the desk. Around the table were four more of the wooden chairs. Gareth stood between the desk and the table, facing the door. The group stood just inside the door, on the opposite side of the table from Gareth.

Gareth indicated one the chairs, “Sit. Your sea legs will come soon enough. For now though we don’t need you making an injury worse. I would like to know your name.”

Gareth smiled at Kaitsu’s honorific, “Kaitsu, among the officers you can just call me Gareth. That goes for all of you.” He looked at Finch and Pavati.

He frowned at the chain. He looked at Pavati again, closely examining her wrists and ankles before looking to Finch. Though he suspected the answer already he wanted to hear all the details that could be known. Gareth knew he now had more than enough to put John in the brig. The only detail left to determine would be when John would be thrown off the ship. Gareth knew he would face a lynch mob if John’s antics got around to the rest of the crew. There was no way he could keep it quiet forever. Gareth needed just enough detail to justify marooning John at the nearest landing and he was sure that Finch was about to fill in all those details and maybe more.

Pavati tried hard not to back away as Shaafir led her into the captain's quarters. Gareth's confused look did not help. She worried for a moment that they had overstepped their orders by removing her from the cabin. If he sent her back now she would not survive their trip to the next port, that she was sure of. She felt a it, that something was going to change. Her death would certainly be that.

Pavati kept her eyes on Gareth, not looking around too much out of respect. She was not their equal, even if she could do John's job better than he ever could it was not her letter that brought them here. She was simply his assistant.

Pavati jumped as Gareth told her to sit. She stared at him, her head tilted slightly as if trying to gauge if he was in fact referring to her and if he was being sincere. Something about the man's face made her shoulders relax. A gentle hand steered her to a chair and she looked up at Shaafir as she sat.

Gareth looked from the chain that Kaitsu held to her. His gaze wandered to her wrists and the lower. Pavati knew she could not hide the bruise on her ankle. Faint older ones were slightly overshadowed by the new dark ring that sat there.

Holding her arm steady, Pavati inhaled deeply. Her voice was quiet but steady. “Pavati. Thank you for the seat.” Her gaze remained on Gareth. She had no reason to fear the three figures that stood in the room with her.

John all but stumbled into Gareth's cabin, barely a knock on the door. He stopped dead as he took in the scene in front of him. She was seated, as if holding court while the others stood there looking at her. He sneered, clenched his hands into fists and moved towards the table.

Resting his hands on it, John steadied himself. “What is going on here? I thought this was a meeting for the officcers. I thought you were fixing that arm?” His drunken speech exaggerated by his anger, he was looking between Pavati and Finch.

Pavati, sat a little straighter in the chair. This was not John's place to command her in. She would not stand and move to his side unless Gareth told her to. This bit of defiance brought a small smile to her lips.

Behind John, the bald Demician entered. Pavati glanced at the man. He seemed in a foul mood. John looked over his shoulder and moved slightly. Fear. Pavati could see it, there was fear in John's face. This too gave her a boost of happiness. It was nice to watch him squirm knowing that for the moment she was safe from his wrath.

Behind him entered the red-headed marine and two boys. A song drifted in on the sea air before the door closed. Pavati began to feel slightly claustrophobic. The room was not overly large and these people all had a reason to be there. She was just an injured woman brought before the captain.

John leered slightly at Jillian. The boys he paid little attention to. Cabin boys were a dime a dozen. Unless they were going to bring him a drink he couldn't care what they were doing or looked like.

Pavati waited in the chair. She expected to be told to leave or to at least go and have her arm looked after. She looked up slightly at Gareth.

John slumped into the nearest chair. His head was killing him already. Surrounded by incompetence, that was the issue. They hadn't even fixed her arm yet. “Shall we get down to business then it can fix her arm? I have maps to look at you know.”

Leaning on his hand, his elbow resting on the table it didn't take much for him to begin to drift off slightly.

Gareth smiled when Pavati finally said something and introduced herself. He turned from Finch slightly to address her, “Very nice to meet you Pavati. You are welcome aboard my ship.”

As Gareth started to turn back to Finch, John barged into the room. Gareth raised an eyebrow at the state of the man and his demands. He stepped to place himself between Pavati and the drunk. Before he could address the man’s comments others entered the cabin. Gareth was pleased to see the cabin boys as they had been quite busy with their chores and he had not had the opportunity to meet them yet.

Gareth opened his mouth to greet everyone when John slurred again and almost collapsed into a chair. Gareth stared incredulously at the man for a half second before assuming a formal stance. He leaned down, close to the now dozing man’s ear, and yelled, “Lotering! On your feet!”

Gareth stood straight again, watching the man scramble, trip over the chair and fall on his back. Gareth had a disgusted look on his face as the man struggled to disentangle himself from the chair, “I did not give you permission to sit. I am almost at a loss for how to handle your disrespect and dereliction of duty. Almost.”

Gareth’s anger was apparent in his face and voice, “You are relieved of duties permanently, Lotering. At this point you have endangered the crew by reporting to duty in your state. You have seriously injured another crewman without cause. You have show nothing but disrespect for your captain. And, as I am going to show, your so called talents have been a farce since you came aboard.”

With this Gareth laid a map on the table. “Show me. Show everyone here. Plot a course to get us out to sea and headed in the direction of Bailey’s Cove.” He ensured he continued to stand between John and Pavati. He watched with disdain as the drunk slowly got himself up off the floor. John leaned heavily on the table as he looked at the paper that was laid in front of him.

As John struggled to understand the map, Gareth turned his back and addressed Pavati, “Now, would you be able to chart such a course?” As he asked this he stepped aside slightly to allow Pavati to finally see the map.

Gareth grimly watched the rest of the crew as they were about to be provided with the final proof that would ever be required to justifiably relieve John of his duties.

Kaitsu sneered as the drunkard, not even worthy of a name in her mind, came into the cabin. However such a face transformed into a smug leer once she caught sight of the Honorable Woman, unfortunately Kaitsu wasn't aware of her name, sitting with her head held high.

Quietly, ever so quietly, Kaitsu stalked around the edge of the room in such a sneaky manner that one wouldn't pay her any mind at all unless they so happened to have similar sharpened senses and the paranoia of a hunted rabbit. It was safe to say that she wasn't noticed enough to be considered in her loop around the surrounded group of officers in the Captain's Cabin.

Silently, silent as the night falls, she planted herself in front of the door, knowing exactly what her esteemed Captain was planning the second he started to dig into the worthless man before them. Secretly palming one of her most favorite weapons, her spear, she stood unmoving as an insurmountable barrier in the way of any escape attempt.

Her grin broadened as it turned malicious as she watched the scene in front of her with great disdain for the man being 'ripped a new one,' as she had so aptly heard a sailor call it in the docks of a sea-city once. She was enjoying it, immensely, and only for a second she wondered how many heart attacks she might cause if any of her clan ever saw her like this, entertaining such violently, bloodthirsty thoughts towards this man.

She hoped the Esteemed Captain Fletcher would let her keelhaul the man... no one would have to know, and besides, no one would tell either if they did see...

Edusrt still glowered with annoyance, as he followed the stinking drunkard into the captain's quarters. He smoothed his face briefly, as he stepped inside and brought his right hand up in a sharp navel salute for Captain Fletcher. Not that it went noticed, as nearly all eyes seemed to follow the ape dressed in a man's clothing but for a moment, as the sneer returned to his mouth, the eyes of the man's wife fell on him. Bright blue eyes soften slightly, to hopefully let her know he wasn't angry with her. No doubt the woman had a fear of men, from her time as....wife?.....slave?.....prisoner? ...of that creature, who had made an attempt to thieve his brandy. He would have to offer her some kindness in the future, whenever their paths crossed, not only as to hope to be friendly with a tormented soul but almost to apologize for his gender's offenses towards her.

The glance of fear that John shot over at him, was something to enjoy, like a fine wine after a rich meal and suited the Demician like a tailored coat. However, the leer the drunk had on his face, as their officer of marines entered the cabin, provoked a silent snarl, a baring of teeth. The man was a dog, lusting towards another woman with his wife in the very (and small) room. Then, to top off all of the faults and ill discipline the man had, he slumped into a chair, while the rest of the officers remained standing and without leave of the captain. John then made a few demands and seemed to start to sleep! The man would have been stripped of rank and flogged around the convoy, if this had been a proper Company outfit.

And then, something wonderful happened. Their hesitating captain seemed to summon all the proper indignation of a Company Viceroy and began cracking orders at the drunk. The Master Gunner almost started laughing, as John fell out of the chair and struggled to his feet, only to stare dumbfounded at the map laid out upon it. This was almost as pleasant as an evening spent smoking under the stars, with good lads all about and a pretty girl on your knee. Almost but about as it was going to get on this ship before they got into a scrap.

Unlike the boatswain, who moved towards the door to watch with bloody minded glee, Edusrt stepped close to John (ignoring the smell of course) and leaned over his shoulder. The map meant nothing to him and while he could read the words, their meanings were gibberish. What he was going to to, was get a little more enjoyment out of this, with a few verbal stabs towards JOhn.

"Wat de kwestie is" he asked in a mocking voice, "Dit is uw beroep, isn' t het varken? Kunt u dit geen eenvoudige kaarten lezen? Of moet zijn u zo bal-minder dat uw vrouw het voor u doen? Moet zij u het ook omhoog worden helpen? Of neemt is zij die u in bed?"