IC: High Seas and Fast Times, From the creators of Bleeding Edge Options

[Large Mike]

Miami is a fairly busy town. Gateway from one world to the next, some say. It's the difference between city and sea, the urban life and the wild water. And there's no better place for a pirate to spend some time off and ride out some heat. Especially when you are one of the dispariate remains of a small armada that used to run under the flag of Padre Chicolo. He was neither a priest, nor Azlaner. As a matter of fact, any time anyone who spoke spanish heard the name, they laughed. Or, at least the did until they were set on an unihabited island with little food and no boat.

But then, when he last gathered the armada for a large run (up the coast to Newfoundland for something that no one ever knew anything about except if would net everyone involved the equivilent of a year's pay) everything went wrong. As soon as they rounded into the Gulf of Mexico, headed for Rio de Jenerio in Amazonia, a fleet of Aztech ships ambushed them.

You only narrowly escaped with your lives. As a matter of fact, most of you were picked up from your various ships by one minor component of the fleet. Many ships were destroyed, but several survived. Everyone scattered to the winds, and those of you lucky enough to get pulled from the water have been spending the past two weeks outrunning Aztech forces, and have just spent the past two days in Miami, restocking. About half the crew is onboard, docked at the harbor.

Now we're only waiting on a few remaining key people.

[Fresno Bob]

Johnny rubs a shiny bruise on his upper arm. A result of the Azzie ambush. He runs his hand through his short and spiky white hair, then flicks some ashes off the end of his cigarette.

"Fuckin' Azzies. Fuckin' Miami weather. It's like the heat and humidity gangrape you."

He looks back at the ship

"I can't believe that that floating brick was all we could salvage..."

[Lindt]

Iron sits carfully proped up aginst the engine housing. The steady drone of the engine giving him something to humm drunkenly with.
"Aye, Miami. The only thing hotter then the weather ish the wenches"

He follows Johnnys gaze.

"Its cramped, Ill give it that. 'S got a shweet senschor package though."

In a moment of ineberated inspiration, Iron relizes that he left his privite launch ported here before signing on with Padre Chicolo. He clambers unstedly to his feet, stumbles, and flops into a deck chair.
"I think I left the "Wild Turkey" here somewhere... " He shouts "Someone remind me later t' find me ship"

[Herald of Verjig...]

Horatio finishes looking over a datasheet about the ship.

"It's got pretty good speed, typical armor, slightly better than average autonav, and can carry half a ton safely. That sensor system is better than most military craft. It's not built for long trips, so we'll either have to keep to one day trips or get imaginative about where we sleep."

He looks across the rest of those gathered here, who have little to do except watch their livelihood get welded back together. On the painful realization that he too has nothing to do but wait, Horatio gets a chair, sets it up to look out toward the sea, and watches the soul of the churning water.

[Fresno Bob]

"Fuck you, Horatio. I still say it sucks. I haven't been on a lot of ships, and I've been First Mate on even less, but this one, I don't like.", Johnny says, tossing his cigarette into the water.

He stands up and brushes off his jeans, being careful not to jab himself on his studded wristband.

"You're damn right its cramped, Roger. I need room to stretch. I'm too damn tall, being an elf sucks."

[Herald of Verjig...]

"Then we need to get a bigger ship. I'll let you know if I hear of any for sale or claim."

[Fresno Bob]

Johnny sneers and mutters something to himself about everyone being a bastard.

"Wheres our captain, anyway?"

[Lindt]

"Shale? We dont need to wait fer that. Lesh go take one. Wish a wet bar" Iron rasese a grimy finger to accentuate this point.
He drains the last of the gin from his bottle. "Sho kay, Im outta booshe, we need shome ting to do"
Iron climbs out of the sagging chair and stumbols to the rail. After stedying him self he throws the bottle up in the air and trys to shoot it, but misses badly with both shots.

[Fresno Bob]

Johnny watches lazily as the bottle goes up, but when the pistols come out, he dives under something metal.

"Jesus! Put those away!"

[Lindt]

Turning in place, still holding the now smoking pistol. "Wahh? Ya schekrred of a little gun fire? I ment ta missch dat"

Iron goes about snapping open the breech of his pistol and burns him self on an ejecting brass before reloading it. "We gosh to get shom tin ta do"

[Fresno Bob]

Johnny uncovers his face and says "Look, I don't mind a little gunfire now and then, but goddamn, you're drunk off your ass. Go take a nap, or something."

[Lindt]

"Well shats not gonna lest fer long, wer outta booze"
With that being said Iron goes to find a shady place to sit and sweat.

[Glyph]

Ziptide, watching the sea and trying to ignore the others, smirks slightly, and idly wishes that he had something sarcastic to say - he can't muster up the mental energy at the moment. The loss of the fleet hasn't affected his equilibrium that much - he's sure that more opportunities will present themselves and their luck will turn around. But when they got in that fight with those Azzies, then had to struggle to port battling all the way - now that was a rush. But this is Miami. If something doesn't turn up soon, maybe he'll hit the bars and clubs, get some action.

[Cheese Emperor]

Leonard caressed the console console. Everyone else was moaning and groaning over the vessel, but Leonard saw it for it's real beauty. It would be magnificent to see through its eyes for the first time. The craft did have better sensors than your average aircraft carrier after all. A lot of his aquaintances in his field would kill to get a shot at using a beauty like this. Of course, they'd kill for a lot less, too, but that was beside the point. Leonard was just going to have to make sure no one dared muck up her gorgeous hull, crew included.

[Lindt]

"Leonard, jurr droolin. Shtop"
Iron wipes his brow with his sleeve. "Shoo what are we gonna do? Anyone? Buuuller? I shink da five o' usch ish ah shtart. Shoo whos in command?"

[Herald of Verjig...]

"The captain's biggest job is impressing the other ship so much that they don't even bother shooting. Few captains ever get that good, so whichever of you most likes to hear himself talk is as good a choice as any right now."

Horatio looks around before continuing, noting the total crew.

"We're too few to be specialized as much as we used to. We may need someone to be tactical advice in combat, but most of the time we'll have the luxury to argue about any decision we need to make."

[Cheese Emperor]

"Just because I appreciate her more than I do you is no reason to get jealous. As far as I know, we're headed to the Carribean. I think it best we hurry along, lest our pursuers sink us at port. The position of Captain is up for debate, I do believe. I'd throw my hat in the ring, but there is surely someone more qualified." Leonard thinks to himself, That and I'd have to go outside even more.

[Large Mike]

A cool breeze stops everyone talking for a second, as they stop to enjoy the tiny reprieve from the heat. The silence reveals something no one had quite heard yet. Several feet, by the sounds of them, booted, running on the docks, where you can't quite see them. Everything else sounds deadly still.

[Cheese Emperor]

"Do you recall what I said about those pursuers? They just made their presence known. This calls for leaving, now, does it not?" Not waiting for a response, Leonard jacks in to the vehicle and sends it off in the boat version of flooring it, just hoping he gets out of range in time.

[Glyph]

"Awww, dammit, Leonard, I wanted to kill some people!" Ziptide pouts sulkily, looking astern to see if there are any hapless enemies that he can manabolt as their vessel roars to life and speeds away from the docks. "I hope they got the holes in the hull plugged up, at least," he mutters as he intently scans the docks for foes.

[Fresno Bob]

"Crap!", Johnny exclaims, drawing his gyrojet pistol. Then he reaches into his vest and pulls out an HE grenade, holding it near his mouth for easy pin removal.

He widens his feet to brace himself against the lurching ship.

"Maybe some Azzies want their azzes kicked...", Johnny remarks, quite pleased with his pun.

[Herald of Verjig...]

Sudden acceleration and folding chairs don't mix well. This is proven in the short sequence of events that was heard as "Drek!" ... *THUD* ... "drek"

Making the best of the situation, Horatio rolls over, braces himself, and watches for the source of the footsteps.

[Lindt]

While Iron wasent aware of the boot steps, the sudden actions of the rest of the crew prompt the same reaction. However the sudden acceleration of the boat puts him in much the same position as Horatio, sprawled on his back in amongst the debris on the deck.
Drawing his pistol and diving for the cabin "When I said we needed shomthing to do, thish wasent what I had in mind. But it'll do" He crawls into the cuddy to retrive a more suitable wepon.

[Fresno Bob]

Once the ship starts speeding up, Johnny crouches down, using the wall at the edge of the deck as cover.

"What we need is one of those jungle boats, with the dual .50 cal MGs.", Johnny says to Horatio. "Oh, get up."

[Cheese Emperor]

Relaying his thoughts through whatever system he could find to the rest of the crew so he could remain jacked in, Leonard came on in a heavily distorted synthvoice. "Anyone have a recommendation for a port to head out to? Preferably one friendly to the less-than-legal?"