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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 1:02 pm 
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"Oh? I tell them why they need to do what I say. After the first ten minutes or so, they generally do it. Then next time, I don't even need to explain! They know that I know what I know about what there is to know, and in the knowing there is the acting. It is very simple. Not as much arguing as on Grom ships. There we have many people who know, and know about different things, so there be much talking and diagrams and vigorous hand gestures. Though Grom ships are best, so maybe it is good to argue. Who knows? Not me, that is for sure."

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 1:29 pm 
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"Talking! Always with the talking-talking." Adande sighs. "I tried talking to the crew. It ... didn't work. Hey! Could you talk to them for me, huh? Explain that they should listen to me? You know." Her scarred face breaks into a grin. "Tell them what a kindly and upstanding person I am."

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 1:37 pm 
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Teigl shakes his head.

"That would be dishonest. It doesn't work if someone else has to tell them they they need to listen to you. Natural skeptics about authority, are sentient races. If someone else tries to tell you you should listen to, say the scary alien telepath, you say 'What! That is stupid! Scary alien telepath is a poop pile! He eats poop! And likes it!'"

His impression of Adande isn't the most accurate, but he sure pours a lot of feeling in it.

"BUT! If scary alien telepath does scary alien voice in your head and tells you something, that makes impression."

He nods sagely.

"You, though, are not good with the talking, and you are not scary alien telepath. You probably need to do your work, and do it better than anyone else. Then when they see you know what you are doing, they listen."

He shrugs.

"Or you punch them. But it is a lot of work to punch everyone you want to listen to you. Takes a lot of time away from getting ship working."

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 2:04 pm 
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Adande nods. The punching works. That's the way she learned it: anyone you can beat up takes your orders, and anyone who can beat you up is your superior. But Teigl's advice makes sense, in that nothing-around-here-makes-sense kind of way.

"Let me know if anyone gives you a hard time," she says, and goes off to help make the ship ready to sail.

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 2:09 pm 
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He grins.

"Have fun! This look like good berth, and pirates get to beat people up, I hear."

He returns his attention to the riggers, making sure they aren't adjusting the sails wrong.

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 2:12 pm 
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Having failed at getting the crew to shut up, Dr. Kyle has instead decided that if noise and head-pounding must ensue, he may as well be the one causing it, and has thus begun to roughly and noisily clean up the surgeon's office.

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 5:17 pm 
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Gristle ambles up behind Adande, but stops in front of the First Mate or Captain (whichever is closer).

"Cookie Gristle," He announces himself, "Permission to come aboard?"

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 5:29 pm 
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"Sweeeet!" Scott believes they just picked up a talking monkey.

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 05, 2010 5:55 pm 
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Gristle looks at the captain quizzically for a moment then continues, "Thank ye, ser. There be some crates a' comin' with spices and such. Could ya see it safe ta hav'em delivered to the galley?"

With an attempt at a salute, Gristle turns and heads below to locate the galley. After a short stroll below decks, where he narrowly escapes getting crushed underfoot by the crews working on the cannons, he finds his way there.

He quickly unpacks the spices from his bag and places them in convenient spots about the kitchen area, then removes a small netted cloth and hangs it in a cozy corner near (but not over) the main stove to make a simple hammock for himself.

Once all that is complete, he goes about preparing a meal for the crew. Remembering that curry was mentioned specifically, he'll start with that and include some basic poultry as an entree and follow up with beans and potatoes and some lighter fruits.

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 Post Posted: Mon Oct 11, 2010 9:52 pm 
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In an act of complete spontaneity, Cap'n Scott sprints to the control panel and presses the switches necessary to set sail. He then sprints back on deck and leaps into the rigging. He proceeds to dance and sing.

"Do what you want cause a pirate is free! YOU ARE A PIRATE!"

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 2:19 am 
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Freedom is, indeed, a wonderful thing. thinks Spangler, watching as the gap between the ship and the dock gradually increases. And the best freedom of all, is complete freedom not to be chased by anyone who might possibly be looking for the person who sold them glass that they thought was diamonds.

He keeps his mind very, very firmly on the fact that he's leaving a lot of victims behind, and, as far as he can, off the fact that he's currently on a moving ship. He's quite convinced that he'll get space-sick sooner or later (he always has before, after all) but he'd far rather it be later than sooner.

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 5:40 am 
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Eventually, everything gets settled and loaded and the ship is ready to go. This takes three days, which isn't unusual in the slightest.

Fortunately for everyone, nobody comes to arrest anyone, and the Doctor can't find any booze until the third day. All but three of the crewmen stick around until launch, too.

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 6:48 am 
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Scott falls from the rigging, exhausted. "Longest *gasp* dance *wheeze* EVER *cough*. Set an open course for the virgin space, mateys! I'll be in a coma. And my office."

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 Post Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 7:10 am 
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Chief meanders by to pour a belt of something reconstituting into Cap'n Scott, and drag him off to his cabin. Or the doctor. Depends on if he's still breathing.

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 Post Posted: Fri Oct 15, 2010 10:28 pm 
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The Doctor has been horribly irritable for the past two days, except when someone actually comes with blood gushing (at which point he becomes professional until the bleeding stops, then goes back to being irritable.)

On day three, however, he manages to get into Cook's sherry. An hour later, he's on the deck of the ship, leading the crew in a sing-along, waving the sherry bottle like a conductor's baton:

"It's cold outside,
there's no kind of atmosphere.
We're all alone, more or less.
Let me fly far away from here.

Fun, fun, fun
In the sun, sun, sun!

I want to lie
shipwrecked and comatose
drinking fresh mango juice.
Goldfish shoals nibbling at my toes.

Fun, fun, fun
In the sun, sun, sun!

Fun, fun, fun
In the sun, sun, sun!"

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