Damon was restless, pacing the deck from one end of the ship to the other, his brother hot on his heels though seeming more to do it out of something to do more than actual restlessness. They'd been cooped on the ship for what felt like weeks and now they were finally stopping for fuel, food, and entertainment. The small desert planet of Ariacan was the destination, and it was known for little else than being a tourist trap for those that wanted to experience "the old west" life. It was a gimmick. The pirates of The Hangman's Cry knew that, but then everyone that went there knew that. But, the entertainment was just too good to pass up and Cap'n A'vi was in the mood to spoil her crew and her crew was more than willing to take her up on the offer.

"I want food. I want some good fuckin' food for once. That's all I want. Is it too much to ask?" Damon asked his brother who was still following him but at a more leisurely pace.

"You mean you don't like the slop that cook gives us?" Roek responded laughing, "He does what he can with what he has. Have mercy." The infamous slop towards the end of a voyage on the Cry was...it was awful and enough to make any sane pirate want to hurl, not to speak for the insane ones aboard. However, after every stop they were given the greatest of feasts, so neither of them could actually complain. Not really.

Both were soon stopped in their tracks though, gasping as they turned to see that the captain of the Cry herself grabbed both of their collars. A smile erupted on both faces as they turned to see her as well, "Damn right he works with what giv'n! I oughtta make the two'a ya say sorry, but ye caught me on a good day. 'Stead I'll let ye off with a warnin'. Be on y'best behavior, gentlemen. We dun wanna get kicked outta this place too. Hear me? No explosions until we get off the planet an' they can't see us. Got it?"

"Understood, Miss A'vi!" came the reply in unison as each of them straightened their posture and saluted to their captain.

"Damn right it is. Now go 'ave some fun. We're landin'."

Marco stared at the wanted poster in disbelief. Before him plastered on the wall was his likeness to a T. They got the wild red hair, the comfortable working garb, and even the eyepatch down exactly. The character drawn showed a more morose version of him than he generally liked to portray to people, his likeness bearing more of a frown. Then, at that point, it matched exactly. The artist had quite the eye and must have spent a good deal observing him. Then, they all did, didn't they?

Marco was a bit of celebrity on Ariacan recently. His gunslinging earned him quite the reputation albeit at the time being a negative one. Or, at least, one that was entirely too positive. Cheating?! What feckin' proof did they have for that one, eh? Am I that good? He scratched his head and pulled his hood over his red hair. He couldn't do anything about the eyepatch—he got terrible headaches without it—but he could at least hide his oh so obvious mane.

He turned quickly hoping no one saw him gawking at his own picture and connect the dots and shoved his hands in his pockets when he was nudged in both shoulders at the same time. He spun around on his heel getting ready to give a guy his but clamped his mouth shut when he remembered the situation he was in. There were two that were the culprits and they both spun around in that instance as well. He locked eyes first with the blonde one, then the brunette and turned to walk away when both sets of eyebrows raised and the auburn haired one stepped closer, “Oi, oi! You're Marco, ain't ye? Marco Devana? We're 'ere to see your show!” He looked completely starstruck, as did the other similar looking man.

Marco's eyes widened and he jumped at the former, putting a hand on his mouth, “SSHSHHH please. Please. I can't have anyone ah... knowing. Okay?” Marco pulled his hand away but the terror was still in his eyes when he saw that the brown-haired twin was going to be compliant.

Well, mostly.

He leaned in, “Why are you hiding?” The question was anything but playful, an ominous, predatory tone leaking through in the timbers, threatening to raise his voice if he didn't like the answer.

“Well ah, you know...celebrity status an' all that. I ain't in the mood for pictures, see...” Marco stammered putting his hands up almost defensively. For many, this would be believable. Marco was known as the shy guy gunslinger, and he lived up to that persona in real life, once even physically running away from fans wanting an autograph by jumping off of a balcony.

The twins, however, didn't buy it. Now, the blonde leaned in, “No other reason? That's some real terror in your eyes...erm...eye.” Marco was against the wall and the blond one loomed over him, his palm pressed on the wall above him, effectively trapping Marco where he was. “I just...can't....believe you. Can you, Damon?”

“Sure can't, Roek,” the one called Damon responded with an evil glint in his eye. Marco could have sworn he saw fangs, but he couldn't be sure. His right eye was going crazy showing him all of the possible outcomes and finally he decided that ducking out and running was the best option, which, he promptly did.

He took off running, weaving in and out of the crowd to the dismay of those he shoved past and to the twins who had lost their prey. “Let him run,” Damon muttered, “We'll be seeing more of him later.”

Marco should have seen it. It was one of the possibilities that he saw, certainly, but it was one of the least likely; he shouldn't have been pursued. The twins from earlier seemed to just watch him leave, but out of nowhere there was another predator. Gasping when something latched onto his leg, he shook it until eventually a large piece of his pant leg was missing but he continued to run.

Of all of the planets Marco could have chosen to live on, he had to choose Ariacan. It made the most sense given his talents, sure. He was great at showbiz so long as no one talked to him after. Hell, he was even willing to give out autographs so long as everything was done through the mail, but the lad was shy. Unbearably so. Much more than he'd ever care to admit. As such, he'd always been sort of a loner, too afraid to talk to anyone that might become an exception to the rule. As far as he was concerned, there were no exceptions that could possibly come. Each and every person that he met caused the same anxiety, and now he had all the more reason to fear them.

And while Ariacan for the past several months had been good to him—he'd earned his living doing what he loved, shooting for show rather than necessity—he knew that it was a place crawling with bounty hunters. Ariacan attracted more than just tourists, although there were certainly more than enough of those. The employees of the tourist trap were always said to add a certain amount of reality to the illusion of the Old West, but a lot of that was because a lot of them were of the rougher, the more tumbling, crowd. They were the kind to get plastered in the saloons after the sun set and the tourists went to bed, and a lot of them came here to hide out.

But, that brought forth yet another kind of face one could see in the crowds of Ariacan: bounty hunters. For every five or six wanted unchecked employees there was a bounty hunter hunting and ready to collect. This was the side of Ariacan that few bothered to look for. Marco didn't fit into any of these crowds. Not initially, at least. He was a good man just looking to earn his pay through an honest day's work, and that's how he made it, at least...until he became wanted himself for apparently being too good.

He looked behind him, his right eye once again going crazy with possibilities until he was able to calm himself down and look at the passing faces rationally. Most, here at least, were tourists. He leaned against the wall panting and out of breath, closing his eyes if only for a brief moment. He was getting a head ache, probably due to his right eye putting in so much work, but he needed to survive. There was no knowing what they'd do to him once he was brought in alive.

Though, it was peculiar that he was wanted alive. Generally cheaters were wanted dead and a corpse would suffice. What would they possibly want with him alive?

=-=-=-=-=

“Oi! Damon! Get a load of this shit!” Roek exclaimed rapping his knuckles on one of the many wanted signs adorning the city. The twins, while there as tourists, were all too aware that the wanted posters were indeed authentic and had seen several instances of their own mug just walking down the street.

“Well, ah'll be damned,” Damon murmured under his breath, “The bloak's wanted! Says 'ere 'e's a cheatin' rat! D'ye buy it?”

“Giv'n 'is countenance? Not a bit. Bloak's innocent. Still though, makes ye scratch yer chin, don't it? What'd 'e do t'deserve this?” Damon looked closer at the mug shot. Yeah, the artist really did do a nice job, but then, they got plenty of practice and the twins had a gay old time comparing their mug shots with the other. Left out one of the O's in their last name though. Rookie mistake. The pair laughed at this and joked about what they'd do if they found him again. If he was decent enough they'd ask A'vi if they could keep him as a pet. They'd done it before, though the last one didn't make it very long. Tragic story having something to do with a misunderstood statement and an incredibly faulty exploding escape shit.

Ah well, what's done is done. They meandered their way into one of the shows going on. A burlesque show by the looks of it with some fancy looking broad singing and dancing on the stage. She was just finishing up when the twins showed up, drinks in hand and clinking their mugs together shouting things like “Such showmanship!” and “Brava! Brava~! Bravisime!” as if they were at some fancy opera or other.

When the crowd stopped cheering for the performer, Damon nudged Roek. “Did ye catch 'er lookin' at ye? Like she wanted t'eat ye...” he whispered.

“Yeah, I saw it...Bounty hunter?”

“Definitely.”

The twins had had their share of bounty hunters after them and ninety-eight percent of them wound up dead. The other two percent were paralyzed. They had a habit of turning the predator into the prey in which they would lead their hunter all over the fucking place only to turn around on them when they thought they had them and, more often than not, burn them alive or simply....blow them up. If Miss Dancer wanted to be added to the list, she was welcome to try.

Marco leaned against the wall, placing both hands on his knees, exhaling. Both eyes closed for the moment, he needed to gather his thoughts. There were plenty of wanted criminals walking these very streets. Hell, it was why it was a hotspot for criminals and bounty hunters alike. It wasn't like he was the most wanted on the list. No, that would be the Orovor twins that he saw plastered on basically every wall they could be plastered on. Well, them and Captain Zet Rayt, but he hadn't been seen in about a decade. It was rumoured though, that those twins were crew to the same ship that that captain ran. Why was he so nervous?

Wait...wait. The two that stopped him. They were twins...Marco opened his eyes, once again scanning his surroundings. The two...they were Damon and Roek Orovor. He shook his head. They seemed so at ease for being the most wanted men walking the planet. Why the hell couldn't he just relax? He took a deep shaky breath and took in everything, letting his right eye do the work while his left eye rest in darkness. The left eye brought too much pain. Seeing everyone's past was a burden Marco Devana was not prepared to carry alone. There was always too much tragedy in everyone's life, always lingering just below the surface—the surface that only those that belonged to Marco's species could access.

The possibilities shifted with each passerby, and some came without even the passerby. Marco, throughout his life, had learned to cipher through them. The most possible to the least possible. Among those possibilities, still low on chances, caught his attention. That lizard was back, but he saw the lizard's master with them. A large man. Western garb. Mask. Marco gulped. The man could be just around the corner. The shitty thing about his ability?

It gave possibilities. Only sometimes did it give the actual future.

Marco could very well be fucked.

~=~=~=~

Damon spun around on his heel to face whoever it was that had tapped his shoulder. Roek was already facing her and peered around his brother's shoulder to see what was happening, blinking. Damon, however, seemed unsurprised by her appearance donning his infamous shit-eating grin immediately taking her hand in his, planting a soft kiss on the backside of said hand and bowing deeply, “Ah, yer the performer my brother an' I jes 'ad the pleasure of seein' on the stage, right?”

Roek stepped around his brother watching as he straightened and subsequently straightened his clothing. He really hoped this would escalate. They'd been given an order to not cause any explosions, but the cap'd be alright with it if they didn't start it, right? Self-defense. It's in the guidebook as acceptable.

Today was the big day. The day that he'd been looking forward to for several months. A day that he'd be really tested and able to prove his worth. Now that he was wanted, though, he would not be performing. There was no way to. He'd be captured the moment he stepped into the arena, and he had no intention for that. Alive. What kind of sick fuck wanted him alive? If he'd been accused of cheating, the price was death. Yet, they didn't want his corpse. They wanted him. Sure, there were those awkward necrotic species that would probably kill him anyway and bring him back, and he certainly didn't want that.

Then, no one would expect him there. If he wasn't on the stage, being in the crowd is probably the best defense mechanism. After all, bounty hunters were under strict regulation to not hurt any of the tourists. In the shoulder to shoulder crowd, maybe, just maybe he could blend in enough. Of course, that would be torture enough for the red-head, watching everyone else do what he should have been doing. But, given the fact that most of the population was going to be in this spot, he'd stick out like a sore thumb out of the arena.

Marco sighed, shouldering his way into the crowd to find a seat.

=-=-=-=

Damon grinned, his cheeks reddening slightly, “Oh, so you like our wanted posters, do you? I'd say the artist did a fairly good job.” Roek's face mimicked his brother's as a smile spread, all too willing to let his brother take the reins on this one. So, Damon continued, “Dark matter frags are alright, ah guess, but ah get the most laughs from Roek.”

Roek nodded in response to this, grinning cheekily and giving a peace sign, “Dun let Damon fool you though. 'is explosions are always top notch.” The way they moved and communicated made it all too apparent to onlookers that they were attuned to each other in ways that others could only dream of having. If they weren't moving together synchronized, they moved complimentary to the other. Already Roek was shifting so that he could occupy one of the positions closest to the feminine bounty hunter lest she try anything with Damon. They were partners in crime and fun, the latter both certainly intended to have.

“Watch it?” Damon asked, “No. The star ain't gonna be there, ah bet. Considerin', well, ye know. The fact that 'e's a wanted man. We're gon' be part o' the crowd, scout it out. See if we can find th' bloke.” He paused and scratched his head with the offer, “Hell yeah we do! We 'ave some with us, so we can get 'igh with ye. Cap' says we shouldn't take drugs from strangers though. Cook made this fer us. 'E's quite good at it too, says et's better to get it from 'im than anywhere else.”

The twins, in unison took their own respective huffs of Anisum, all four eyes dilating at once. Each shuddered and shook their head, the world coming into mind numbing clarity. Those sets of eyes now turned to Tennan, then to each other with her correct assessment. “Aye, we are with the Cry, though why that be the first ship ye turn to based on the fact that we be pirates is a bit concernin' ain't it, Roek?”

The blonde twin's brow furrowed, “'Tis a bit concernin', aye. We cert'nly ain't the only pirates on this 'ere land.”

Damon began circling the woman, Roek following suit, “Down right concernin', but, ah suppose it does make sense since yer our biggest fan and all.” He stopped his circling for a moment when he was standing directly in front of her raising his eyebrows, “So I 'spose it makes sense, right Roek?”

“Well, that's a fact, ain't it?” Roek chimed as Damon (and therefore also Roek) continued his circling. “I dunno 'ow many people go about researchin' those that they dun intend t'kill though. We've 'ad plenty o' fans try t'kill us for our enormous bounty on our 'eads.”

“Ah, another true fact, if ah ever 'eard it, Roek! Bloody brilliant as per always, my dear brother! But, as a true fan, mayhaps we can work ourselves a transport deal, though y'know pirates, 'specially those of the Cry 'erself, dun generally do transports. Et won't be easy t'convince the cap. 'E's got a pretty...'tective view, y'see? 'E only generally admits recruits t'the crew. An' 'ere's the thing, once a member, yer a member fer life. Ye run, we kill ye. So. ..Still sound app'tizing?”

=-=-=-=-=

Marco winced, hearing his name announced and seeing that empty podium. Should be me, he couldn't help but thinking, I should be up there... He shook his head, dismissing the thought and gathered all of his mental fortitude to sit back and enjoy the show, at least until the streets of Ariacan were populated again. He glared up at the criminals that were used as the targets. He'd put many of them out of their misery on that very stage. His eyes widened with a thought, however, Is that why they wanted me alive? To use as a target? Would certainly sell tickets...

“Ah! The lass really did 'er homework!” Damon exclaimed gleefully. “Well, we may 'ave a spot for ye, but ye see, Cap's got rules on who can join'n whatnot,” Damon said, leaning in to Tennan's ear as if whispering a secret. This wasn't completely true, but it certainly had a ring of the truth to it. Captain A'vi Rayt did have standards when taking applicants, though she did take in others. The Cry had a reputation for hunting down slave ships, hence the Cry's wealth. There was a lot of money to be had from the slave trade, and the ships bearing humanoid cargo often carried a lot of that wealth with them, not excluding the slaves themselves. The slaves were freed and offered a position on the ship. Most declined and were dropped off on whatever planet they stopped at next, regardless of where it was. Those that accepted, however? They were immediately granted access. A'vi's reasoning for this was sound enough. Freed slaves weren't going to try to collect a bounty on those that had released them. Those that joined were more often than not filled with enough gratitude that they were then bound to the Cry as closely as the captain herself.

After all, that was how the captain herself came to join.

“There are certain qual'fications,” Roek continued for his brother, “A certain skill set is required, an' I 'pologize, but ah didn't see yer wanted poster anywhere. Ye do anything that can merit ye bein' a pirate with the most feared crew in the whole galaxy?”

The twins nodded with her suggestion and they made their way just in time to see the competition beginning.

-=-=-

Marco inhaled deeply through his nostrils, watching as some of the criminals survived, while many didn't. The years that Marco competed? None of the criminals survived. None. Few points were even given to the other competitors. His grand slam move in the last competition had been a fan the hammer, emptying all six bullets at once into separate criminals—all headshots. He'd been proud of that one.

He hoped that not many put money on him, but then, they'd be idiots if they had. There was no money to be had betting on a wanted man. Marco narrowed his eye at one of the competitors. He recognized him from being with the lizard that got his leg earlier. Shit, is he here for me?
=-=-=

Qian sat on her haunches, huddled under an overhang of rubble, trembling with tears running over her cheeks. So, this is what her proud, noble kingdom had been reduced to? Nothing but a pile of debris littered with the corpses of her friends...her family? She let out a choked sob, clapping her hands over her mouth, hoping they didn't hear, the ones who had done this to her kingdom. They were large, terrifying mechanical beings, unlike any of the other robots she'd ever seen, all four arms were armored and completed with dagger like claws attached to each. Each bearing different weapons, and each taking the lives of those she'd seen fall.

There was so much blood...so much...

Qi's katana lay next to her, looking as if it would fall apart the next strike she made with it. Sure, she'd managed to hack one of the Yingya's arms clean off, but she'd had to hack to get through the tougher outer shell, and the katana had paid the price for it. She was useless now that her katana was. She'd barely made a dent in their onslaught.

Certainly, she'd saved herself. The creature had reeled back screeching, allowing the young girl to make her getaway, but that did nothing for her friends and family, already hacked down. She'd heard of the Yingya, of their conquest, but never did she imagine their little peaceful planet on the other side of the solar system being raided. She could imagine a life of slavery if one of them found her. That, or an immediate killing.

Gods, she felt so useless. But then, why did she not turn herself in? She had no more reason to live anymore. All of her reasons were now bloodied, broken...dead.

“Then ah suppose ye'll jes 'ave t--” Damon began, getting cut off by the blade barely poking in between the buttons on his jacket. Wide eyes softening to a wry smirk, “...Touche. But y'know, we 'aven't been either. We're known though, 'cause we don't hide, right Roek?”

“Tch. Yeah, we're not like that bitch Marco. Or, 'parently, you,” Roek added, raising his eyebrows as he watched Tennan's tongue tracing the edge of the blade before sliding it back into her garter. His apprehension appeared to be fading, but then, it was near impossible for anyone, save for the other brother, to know what was actually going on in his mind. “Alright. We'll give ye that. An' it seems we've got certain comm'nalities with ye. So, what say you? Help us 'unt the redhead? We ain't gon' turn 'im in though. Cap said we could try an' recruit 'im. So dun kill 'im if ye find 'im first.”

+++++++++++++++++++++

Qi was stuck. Broken. All around her were the pieces, the remnants of a life that had been stripped from her in a matter of minutes. She'd managed to escape with relatively few cuts and scrapes, but they were coming for her. If not to kill her outright as they had the rest of her people, then for slavery. Qian Bao long ago decided that death would be the better alternative, but if they decided on the latter, she couldn't even kill herself. Her katana was on the verge of falling apart and she knew that it was no longer sharp enough to even so much as cause a paper cut.

But there was a noise. A loud noise. Even Qi with her will to live had to see what was going on. She poked her head to see the blinding light—undoubtedly those that were seeking, and thereby obtaining, conquest.

They were landing.

Marco covered his eye, gasping. The possibilities were endless, and his eye was sure to show him every. Single. One. What was more troublesome was that that man and his lizard thing were fading from the possibilities as new ones with not quite new characters. The twins were making their entrance with...was that Tennan? There were so many Tennans and each of them were appearing in conjunction with the twins he'd met earlier, back when he couldn't see a future with the twins realizing he was a wanted man. Now he was being sought. He couldn't stay here; he had to run!

Run he did, starting from his seat and straight for the exit and straight for the--

Twins. He'd run into them, both working as a block in his path. He was so busy focusing on the possibilities that once again he'd neglected to look at the present. And here they were, looking down at him. He shrank back, muttering something resembling an apology hoping to duck by them, but they noticed. Instead, he looked slightly to the left of the left-most brother and saw her...Tennan. That gorgeous performer, dancing in the shows. She was a coworker, but not one he'd ever had the gall to talk to.

“Well, well, well! Roek! What 'ave we 'ere?” Damon asked, not bothering to look at the line's intended, focusing in instead on the eye-patched redhead.

“Oi! Why ain't ye on the stage?” Roek asked, as usual rolling with whatever it was his brother was going off of, relying on the unspoken cues of ones who had gone through this sort of thing before.

Marco put up his hands defensively all while cringing back, “Thought I'd spectate this year is all...”

“Ye sure it's not 'cause yer wanted? For a looot of gold, mind you?” Damon persisted, grabbing hold of Marco's arm, not stopping in his moving forward. Roek latched onto the other, Marco now being forced to walk backwards with them, eventually veering down and out of the exit.

“Well, that was easier than ah thought it'd be,” Roek said, laughing.

“Sure enough was,” Damon said, injecting Marco with some sort of drug. Roek's face was the last he saw as he faded to darkness.

=-=-=

Qi, when poking her head out, saw another thing. A smaller ship, and a girl trying some fuel. She didn't look like a Yingya! She could...she could maybe get her out of here! Looking around cautiously, she saw no immediate signs of any of them so she went for it, running out with her hands up in a show that she had no weapons, “Please... can you get me out of here, I'm begging you, before they arrive to finish me off... Please...”

The crowd around Tennan, the twins, and an unconscious Marco erupted in cheers as the new hotshot champion was announced and the old one was carted out. “It sure was,” Damon muttered, grunted as he put one of Marco's arms over his shoulder, his brother taking the other one. Carrying Marco longways would have been more conspicuous, so the now captive wanted fugitive was dragged out of his home at the arena, his feet dragging behind him.

“Ship's this way,” Roek said, tossing his head in a direction. They led the way at a slower pace than per usual, beating most of the crowd out, and those that did witness what was going on could only accept what was happening. They knew the twins, and they knew better than to fuck with them. They'd already claimed the wanted man, and there were none that could claim that reward from them.

It was a slow process, but with the streets as empty as they were, arrived with relative ease. Once aboard, Damon again tossed his head, but this time leading to the ship's interior. Sure enough, there was a cluster of cells that look like they got their fair use, but were well-kempt nonetheless. They laid him out on one of the cots and locked him in there. “Well, now that that's taken care of, guess we can sit back with pint or two, ye?” Damon asked, grinning.

“Yep. An' then we'll introduce ye to the cap. Can't guar'ntee yer life, 'cause if 'e doesn't like ye, 'e'll kill ye, but what can we say? It's what yer wantin'a sign up for,” Roek chimed in with a shrug, “But in the meantime, ah'll grab us all a drink while we wait for 'im t' come back.”

~~~~

“No! No, listen, please!” Qian was begging now, her voice cracking on the word “please.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks as her pleas fell on deaf ears. She'd been careful with her Common, enunciating each word with the utmost precision, even working to keep her accent down.

She continued to run, however, waving her arms. When the woman climbed back into her cockpit and revved the engines, she knew there was no hope. She dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. There really was nothing for her now, except to wait for her inevitable death.

She just hoped they would make it quick.

“Excellent!” Damon said clapping her on the back, “Always nice t'ave a lass that can put a drink away onboard!” The twin looked as he always did, and in all honesty, both of them did. They'd seen her predatory look, to be sure, but if they could coerce another into joining permanently, well, that was better for everybody now, isn't it? He chattered the entire time he led the way into the kitchen. Cook was still out and about in the town, so the booze was wide open for the taking. They'd been on rations during the entirety of the last voyage simply because of the amount that the twins seemed to go through alone.

Roek grabbed a few mugs, promptly filled them and plopped them down in front of Tennan and his brother, “Drink up, mates! T'the Cry!” He raised his mug high, his brother clinking his own mug against it echoing his sentiments.

“T'the Cry!”

“Well, well, well, what 'ave we 'ere?” a feminine voice purred from the doorway, the twins spinning around on their heels to face it.

“A'vi...” Roek whispered.

“A'vi...” Damon whispered.

“A' fuckin' vi!” A'vi exclaimed, flinging her arms open wide, “Now that we all know who the fuck I am, tell me, 'oo the fuck es this? She doesn't look like no Marco Devana!”

Damon stepped forward, as expected, putting his hands up defensively, “We've got 'im too, don't ye worry! 'E's asleep in our room! Surprisingly easy to catch, might I add...” The captain's eyes narrowed in on him, “Let's start over, shall we? A'vi, this is Tennan, knife extraordinaire, and potential recruit t'the Cry! Tennan, this is A'vi, the cap'n's daughter... She's ah...pretty hot shit 'round these parts, ye do what she says.”

A'vi's eyes stayed honed in on the brown haired one, “Knives, eh? Huh. Well, we'll see what Papa 'as to say about 'er, aye?” Sharp hawk-like eyes shifted from Damon to Tennan and back to the mouthpiece of the twins, “Where's Devana? Ye said ye 'ad 'im too?”

“Aye! Ye wanna see 'im?” Roek chimed in, A'vi's eyes aimed at him for a moment.

“Aye--” A'vi started.

“And the ayes have it!” Damon said, ushering her out the door and in the direction of their captive. Maybe seeing him would ease her anger at them bringing along a little extra pet. It meant more work for her, but she decided she'd have fun with it too. This marked the first of many new potential recruits that the captain actually seemed remotely interested in messing with herself. Usually, she just left that up to the twins, them being her own personal detectors to weakness. Their judgment was rarely wrong despite the fact that she hated their methods of coming to it. The fact that they didn't spill the beans right away as to her identity lifted some major red flags.

Granted, it wasn't exactly a lie. She was the captain's daughter. Just, things were a bit different now.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Qi's face immediately erupted into a wide smile as she clambered to her feet, half running half stumbling onto the ship. Her hopes had been answered! Gods, she couldn't have been happier!

“Thank you! Oh thank you! I'll...I'll work to pay you back, alright? But we don't have much time. The Yingya are coming...”

Before the twins managed to turn A'vi around to lead her out the door, she shot each of them a glance that left each of them bristling and cringing. They were going to get a stern talking to later, and their booze rations might even be reduced which would be the exact opposite of good for the boys. “Ah'll get the chance t'see some o' yer skills later. After yer brandin'. Ye'll get yer chance once yer marked as one of us, to us, an' t' everyone else. Et'll make ye as wanted as anyone who gets t' keep their lives after steppin' foot on the Cry.”

The twins froze and A'vi kept walking, knowing right where it was that they were keeping Marco thereby needing no guidance, each of the boys turning their heads slowly to Tennan. They'd happily forgotten the part of the deal where she'd be needing a brand to even set sail with them. Marco would be needing much the same, but he'd seen absolutely nothing so if he refused they could just toss him overboard, should they choose to let him live. The captain went in first, unlocking the cell door with her Master's key and pursed her lips looking at the sleeping form of the man laid out in the cot. “This es Marco Devana? 'E doesn't look like much, does 'e?” she muttered shaking her head.

“Ah, but Miss A'vi, 'ave ye ever seen the lad shoot? 'e can shoot jes' about anythin', an' can ye imagine what 'e'd be able t'do with explosives an' the like?!” Damon asked stepping in front of Marco and putting his hands out defensively. Roek immediately joined his brother's side.

“E'd still be the runnin' champ if 'e wasn't wanted t'the 'ells an' back on Ariacan!”

“What's 'e wanted for?” A'vi asked simply, looking to the boys for explanation, already peeved enough that they'd brought him, let alone another on board. It wasn't like them to be making friends so easily, however, so she was forced to believe that they were up to something as per usual. And, as per usual, the captain was ready to let them get away with it.

“Wh-where am I?” came a groggy voice, drawing the eyes of all in the room. Marco Devana was waking up.

His eye found A'vi first, his heart beating faster. Was that...No, it couldn't be. A'vi Rayt was dead...Why would he be dreaming of her now? He'd heard about her in passing, seen the wanted posters like anyone else, but those posters had long been removed under the supposition of her death. It was rumoured everywhere. Survivors from attacks led by the Cry were few enough and far between, but none of them ever saw the infamous captain's daughter. Supposedly, it was her death that led to the Cry's sudden burst of aggression. No one got past the Cry unless the Captain wanted them that way by means of spreading the warning. “You can't be her, can you? Not really...”

“Ah suggest ye keep yer mouth shut, boy. We're aboard the 'Angman's Cry, an' yer wanted t'be part o' the crew by recommendations from some o' the crew. So what say you?” A'vi said, getting in his face.

Marco blinked, his right eye, as per usual, not being of any assistance. This was definitely her. He could see the scar on her cheek, just like the posters. He could see the possibilities. None of them good. Absolutely none of them. “D-do I have a choice?”

“Well,” Damon said chiming in, a smarmy grin on his face, “We could turn ye in?”

Marco groaned, “I'll join...”

The twins gave each other a high-five.

=-=-=-=-=-=

“Q-Qian...Bao,” the small girl said in response. Her body was still shaking as a trembling hand worked to operate the buckle necessary to “buckle up.” Squeaking, she drew her knees up to her chest, interlacing her fingers around her legs. “Thank you for saving me,” she managed before the announcement that forced the girl to cover her ears.

“I...I should h-hide b-before they catch you...”

The twins, ever conscious of the non-expressive countenance of their new find both grinned at her, Damon waggling his eyebrows at her, and tugging at the collar of his shirt revealing his left shoulder. Darkened black skin in the shape of noose squat on his shoulders with the silhouettes of two presumed to be ravens circling within the loop, one larger and one smaller. “See, the thing is, ye can't burn it off,” the brunette continued, attempting to get a rise out of her, “Well, ye can, but it'd leave a naaasty scar that says that ye were a pirate. See, all pirates get a brand there if they get caught an' escape 'fore execution. A scar is enough t'tar a perfect, squeaky clean record.”

“Ye'll be bound t'the Cry fer life!” Roek chided.

“I ain't cheatin', I ain't! Yeh, it's true that I won 'em all, but I won 'em fair and square!” Marco said sitting up suddenly. That's what this was about? Cheating? The thought had never occurred to him. How the hell does one go about cheating in a shooting contest anyway? Perhaps they were sick of paying out the prize? But if that was the case, why even hold the competition?

The captain stood up, looking down at her prize with folded arms, “Well, ah fer one am fine with seein' it first 'and when we find our next target. We'll brand ye both when we're airborne. Jes 'ave t'wait for the cap an' crew t'get back. They'll be back any minute now.”

“Terrified” could have been a word to describe Marco at that moment, his eye that wasn't covered going from one member of the small party to the next in rapid movements. He wanted to get out, to find somewhere else to live on his winnings. There was certainly enough that the man could have gone into an early retirement, and he'd considered it once he found out he was wanted. Now, however, he found himself aboard the most known pirate ship in the galaxy—the most vicious pirate ship in the galaxy. One wouldn't think it looking at the grinning faces of the twins, or the glint in A'vi's eye. They weren't anything like brutal pirates should be. The boys were little more than extremely dangerous troublemakers—and more wanted than many in the galaxy. But seeing them in person, one would never expect it. The gunslinger wanted to protest. He didn't want a brand to further cement his wanted state. He didn't want to be a pirate; he sure as hell didn't want to be here around all of these people either.

“Boys,” A'vi uttered, the Orovoros then snapping to attention, “Take 'im t'the kitchens and get this lad some ale. 'E needs t'lighten up.” The boys in question both beamed, Roek giving a small fist pump of joy, and the captain straightened and looked from Tennan to Marco, “'E needs t' learn a little somethin' from ye, lass. 'E needs t'see that we're all one big family, so as another new member o' the crew, watch 'im for me, will ye? Make sure the twins dun kill 'im.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Qian looked down fiddling with her hands, a ton of bricks lifting off of her chest with the girl's confidence. She'd done this type of travel before, by the looks of it. Of all of the things that she could have said to her rescuer, the most prominent was the simple word “How?” How could she have such confidence when fleeing from the species that had literally wiped her planet out? Before the Great Catastrophe, the name that Qi had just then decided to give to the destruction of her home and race, she had never flown. She never expected the feeling of her stomach lifting into her throat as they left the gravitational pull of the husk of Quzhujian.

Her hands pressed into the seat, her body vibrating as she tried and tried to will herself not to look out of the less than immaculate window back at her home, breaking, and eventually doing just that, her eyes drifting to the blackened sphere. Quzhujian had once been a place of lush greenery, dense forests and jungles, a wide array of wildlife. Now it was the black, gray, and white of ash, some of the plumes of smoke large enough to even be seen at this distance. She let out a choked sob, a tear streaming down her cheek as she forced her eyes away. It was only then that she realized she was being spoken to and lifted her eyes toward her savior. Of course the name was wrong. She wouldn't expect many to be familiar with the language and customs of her planet, so it made sense. And now? There was much too large of a chance that now, she would be the only one in the universe to know her own tongue.

“Qi is fine,” she rasped, bowing her head. “What's your name?”

The twins, however unironically or ironically, saluted to the captain as she essentially gave them the order to break their rations and get shit-faced. Foreshadowing to their future conditions, the twins each wore shit-eating grins as they watched A'vi make her exit. They each recognized it as the cue that Captain Zet Rayt would be making his appearance rather soon, and he'd stay until the traditional branding of new recruits was finished—at that time revealing himself as none other than his own daughter. Quite strange when dwelled on, but A'vi couldn't keep the schtick up forever in front of her own crew, so when she knew that new recruits literally couldn't betray them without at least giving themselves up is when she came clean.

Besides, a trustworthy crew deserved a trustworthy captain, and that she certainly was.

She, as expected left to make her change leaving the twins to distract the newcomers with a good old-fashioned Hangman's Cry welcome—with ale and merrymaking. They chatted the newbies up, leading them back to the kitchens, the blonde one even going so far as to place his hand on the lower back of the eyepatched quivering creature, while the brown haired one let Tennan move at her own pace, both at once recognizing Tennan as a kindred spirit and knowing she'd join on her own terms, willingly and perhaps even with similar intentions.

The boys had already downed their first drink when A'vi was around, and Damon almost as soon as he was in the kitchen had four mugs by the handle and he began pouring their drinks, “Ye ready t'get drunk in the name o' The Cry? Jes wait an' see, et's th'best decision ye ever made.”

Marco gulped. He couldn't decide if Roek's hand on the small of the back was comforting or terrifying, but his body had evidently reacting to the latter as it was now quivering, a trembling hand latching onto the handle of the mug that Damon now shoved into his bubble. “I...I reckon, reckon so,” he stammered, moving his other hand in to shake the mug which after being in his hand also began to shake. He turned his head to the other newcomer, “Were you drug into this too, or are you here freely?”

“Lookit 'er,” Damon said, his newly freed hand clapping hard on Marco's back, “She's a natural! An' she certn'ly ain't no pansy. 'Course she's 'ere willingly. Dun worry though, we'll make ye a bit less of a bitch yet. Bottom's up! T'the Cry!” This was only one of many times he'd drink to the Cry probably even today, as it was as good of an excuse as any to drink and the twin raised his mug, his brother echoing his sentiments with his own “T'the Cry!” Marco raised his glass, but made little effort to actually make contact with the others, so the twins brought theirs further forward, glad that Tennan was indeed willing to party as hard as they were.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“Gambling?...Partying?” Qi murmured with a shake of her head, “That happened in the big cities, I think. In the small towns, like the one I lived in before it was destroyed was mostly farming...some herders, too.” She bowed her head knowing both the shepherds and their flocks were all but gone now, the lush green hill sides just outside of the jungle now reduced to little more than black ash, the jungles mere skeletons of what they once were.

Her fingers dug into the armrests as the ship picked up speed, and her eyes widened as she realized she was now seeing space, from space, for the first time in her life. “It's beautiful, she whispered, guilty that neither her parents nor her siblings would ever get the chance to witness this majesty.
They were gone now. They'd never see anything again.

The twins followed in Tennan's endeavor, however unconsciously, each draining their mug to half-empty and slamming it on the table in the highly exaggerated manner of pirates were just beginning a night of drinking. Both were keen to notice that all of this was done in unison and smiles erupted on their faces--the brothers each holding a hand out for a high-five to the other, then decided to include Tennan on in their ritual each holding up their other hand. Tennan now in on it, the twins each gave the other a look that seemed only to say She can keep up. She can be one of us, the third in our trifecta of explosions and mischief... Oh, how they had waited for this day! A third party that would show that they were not exclusionary to other members of the crew.

Indeed, the rest of the crew treated the brothers much like Marco had, simply staying as far out of their way as possible. Marco drank maybe a fourth of his, pressed as far back in his seat as humanly possible if only to put some distance between him and the three. They'd said that Tennan was new, but Marco got the feeling of anything but. She seemed to already belong with them. In a way, he envied her in her ability to keep up with the boys and actually enjoy herself, to actually enjoy being around other people. On Ariacan, he was always a lone wolf. There was no romance for Marco, nor friendships. It wasn't that he didn't want one, or maybe even two, friends, but he was terrified of each and every one of them. He didn't say anything, just continued to shift his eyes from one of the three to the others in turn lifting his mug to sip from it. Tennan was right; this was a very good brew.

“Damn right et is!” Damon said, raising his mug once more to finish the drink in one fell swoop.

Roek picked up his mug and grinned waggling his eyebrows at Tennan, “Cook makes et 'ere on the ship! 'E's the best damn brewer in the galaxy, an' we get 'im on our ship. Et's to 'im that we owe all our successes, giv'n us reason t'fight.”

Damon's brow, however, furrowed seeing Marco gingerly sipping at his drink and moved his hand to tip the mug at a steeper incline making Marco's eyes go wide with the sudden influx of alcohol, “Thar we go, that's better, isn't et?”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Qi looked down. Lush. Green. Both descriptors of the way her planet was not even an hour ago. The Yingya descended on them in an instant. There was no fighting back. There couldn't have been. There was no way to predict what was about to happen and when it did, they took everything. Guangda was a land of a simple life, and it made for a popular destination for pirates to land, gather supplies, and take off again. They never stole from the locals and often paid handsomely for fuel and food, their economy booming just due to these miscreants. This was probably why Ilan was there to begin with, a weary traveler just looking for supplies, and Qi was lucky that he was there when he was. “I am new to space,” Qi murmured, bowing her head and clasping her hands in her lap. She swallowed some spit that had gathered at the back of her throat, choking back tears. Some formed in her eyes despite her trying not to, the blackened sphere that she once called home growing smaller as they traveled.

Qi took the little baggy in her hands and breathed in. It smelled delicious, the kind of smell that made her think of incense burned at the temple weekly, daily in times of festival. It reminded her of Nainai's house and the altar dedicated to her Yeye, gone before she was born, but always there. He was much a part of her life as Nainai had been. Qi didn't see her death either, she was with her brothers at the time, just getting ready for one of their fishing trips when they came. “It smells...good,” Qi said, almost a whisper. She looked up to Ilan taking some of the bag and putting it in her hand, “Is enough?” With his nod, she extended her tongue lapping up the drugs like a cat drinking from a saucer of milk. It tasted like it smelled—really delicious. She wanted more, if only for the taste, but she knew better than that.

“You're...pirate?” Qi said, gulping. While the pirates of the skies were the cause of a boom of economy, she'd been warned against fraternizing with them. They were thieves, rapists...murderers. Her prejudices would have to be put aside, however. Qi couldn't describe it. Ilan was a pirate, yes, but she trusted him. It wasn't as though she had a choice, but the trust was there regardless. Something told her that she was safe with him, so long as she stayed with him. “I guess I'm pirate now, too, then,” Qi said, chuckling a bit despite the tear that was still making its way slowly down her cheek, across her lower jaw and to her chin. The tear wasn't for her fate that lay before her, but for the past she was leaving behind. Her parents would disapprove, but then, everyone in her life that would disapprove was gone now. She was a new person now, just like that, in an instant and not with a bang but with a small accepting laugh.

The stars began to lose their clarity.

Marco was, for all intents and purposes, blind. He sat back on his haunches, legs spread and bent at the knee, torso hunched over the empty space, both palms pressed to his eye sockets to try to help them water. Completely oblivious to all that was happening around him, including the decapitation and subsequent regeneration of his fellow recruit, he leaned his head back, keeping his hands where they were, fingers slightly curled with tears running down his cheeks. He'd cast his eyepatch aside, left eye seeing sunlight for the first time in months but his vision – and visions, for that matter – were a blurred mess of headache and dizziness.

The twins were as oblivious to Marco as he was to them, both their sights trained on the lizard. Roek cracked his neck, smirking, “Ah, I see. Ye think we're just gon'ta let ye walk all over us like that? Look around, lizard. Yer outnumbered, an' two of us are on the galaxy's most wanted list. Wanna know why we're on that list, lizard?”

Damon cracked the knuckles of his right hand on his left palm, and again his left on his right, also taking a step toward the lizard, extending his hands, balls of flame emerging in both palms, “Et's because we're dangerous. Very dangerous.”

“We're takin' Marco. Yer right about that. But we're also takin' the lass. We've reason t'want 'er aboard, innat right, Damon?” Roek said this without looking to his twin, his eyes keeping contact with the reptile's own.

“That's right. We'll give ye t' the count o' three t'run. After that? Well, Cook might be pleased t'see a new type of meat introduced. Pre-cooked.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“It took everything,” Qi'an murmured, “In an instant. And then it took again...” Her voice was soft, trance-like, but it didn't stop her back from straightening, the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end at the touch of Ilan's hot breath. The shiver running down her spine was not one of discomfort, or fear. Rather, it was one of anticipation and she found herself leaning back into the man now draped over her, her hands deftly reaching up to take his, her fingers lacing with his.

I can show you love...he said.

The pair remained statuelike, in an embrace fit for art, motionless save for the rising of their chests. Both could feel the electricity, the static at the tips of their hair follicles, on their fingertips, in every beat of their warm-blooded hearts. A tear, too, emerged from Qi's eye as she could feel Ilan's on her shoulder, through her shirt. “But will you?” Qi asked, her heart catching in her throat, “For how long before you leave?”

Love is eternal...

The words rang through her ears providing her with conflicting and conflating thoughts, crashing against each other like the horns of deer. Love is eternal. That's why her heart was still broken and that's why it hurt knowing that the pair would be separated. Willingly, no less. That is, if he was planning on leaving her on some gods forsaken planet that wasn't, nor could ever be, her home. “I...I want to fish,” Qi said finally, hushed, like speaking too loud would ruin the moment. It was a moment that shouldn't be spoiled no matter what, even if Qi couldn't decide if it was a bad one or a good one, “But what after? Will you leave me then, like Lei?” She knew he knew of whom she spoke. She could feel him in her mind, wrapping his delicate fingers around her soul, around her heart.

But she didn't want to stop it.

Not yet, not ever. “I want to know what happens after.”

=-=-=-=

Damon looked at Tennan, blinking, then Roek looked at Tennan, blushing. In the commotion, neither of them seemed to remember that there was a naked woman in their presence though they both had witnessed the debacle that put her that way, Roek quickly unbuttoning his overcoat and thrusting it in Tennan's direction with an outstretched arm shielding his eyes. Damon, too, shielded his eyes (however little he wanted to) and began undoing his pants, thankful that today was not a day he felt like freeballing it. Instead, he had on a pair of undershorts that were fairly modest in their appearance, and he was grateful that he happened to glance at the poisoned Marco in time to prevent a tent from pitching.

Allowing Tennan to dress, the twins finally turned to Marco, who was still in the place he'd been put, trying to wipe away tears and screaming with pain. They knelt down on either side of him, wrapped his arms about their shoulders and lifted him up. “We've got t'flush this out right away,” Damon murmured, seeing the full extent of the damage. Most of the venom looked to have washed away, but some got into at least one of Marco's eyes.

“Medic'll fix you up right proper,” Roek added grinning. “Tennan, we can get ye proper clothes on the ship, but we've got t'take care of one that can't regenerate.”

Qi watched Ilan setting up some sort of a machine in a druggish haze. She knew he was working on something, maybe even something important, but she was too high to care. She could almost smile at the man as he promised her love and happiness. Could he give those things though? Would he be able to break through the protective barriers she'd put up in self defense? Could she let him?

In her flying stupor, she didn't notice Ilan getting closer with the machine's six-legged appendage and gasped when it made contact with her. First, it was cold, then warm as the machine tuned up and Qi turned down, falling backward in her seat, irises white and blank as the space that she now found herself in.

The room was white, her footfalls made no sound and she felt that if she opened her mouth to scream no sound would come. Her heart caught in her chest. If ever there was such a thing as nothing. This was it. When Ilan appeared, she could feel her heart stop pounding in her ears and waves of relief washed over her. This wasn't some sick joke after all. He was joining her in whatever adventure he had up his sleeve next. Then the words appeared. This was some sort of virtual reality thing that she'd heard about but had never seen. She watched as Ilan's own words manifested visibly and when he accepted, she followed suit.

The world they entered was one unlike any Qi had ever seen before. Technically, this was her first time off the planet, and in a non-technical sense, her first time on another planet. The scenery was beautiful, and that familiar feeling of humidity washed over her. Though silent, she was obviously in bliss, simply taking in all of the new sights, the new sounds. The frogs croaking and the birds singing were all around them, and they were completely enveloped in nature. She took the rod in her hand and examined it. It was, to put it lightly, much better than any of those she'd known on her home planet. “Really? I can keep this?” Qi asked, breaking her silence that she didn't realize she'd been carrying on, “It's...it's nice. Is it only here in this world?” She tilted her head, and she knew now with certainty that everything she thought she imagined sharing with him she actually had. Those few words she'd uttered were unneeded. He'd seen everything.

=-=

Marco was thankful that now, at least, someone was planning on tending to his wounds. The pain was searing, but he calmed his body down to allow him to be guided wherever it was the twins were taking him – likely right back to the ship he'd been hoping to escape at some point. But they would fix him, and the circumstances showed that he had a good reason to run, so as far as he was concerned, pirate life was in his future. He just didn't know if he was cut out for it.

Damon shook his head and Roek answered, “Nah miss, but we do 'ave an excellent mechanic that may be able t'get ye set up nice an' proper.” As they answered, however, they didn't stop to turn to face her. She had regeneration, there was no way in hell anything could ever could her. At least, anything on this planet. They kept with the process of getting him to the ship until finally they reached the gangplank and walked Marco overboard.

“OI.” Damon shouted, “Get the medic out 'ere! Newest recruit's been poisoned!” As if in answer, Marco let out an involuntary groan and the medic popped his head out and rolled his eyes.

“He's not part of the crew yet is he? Not my problem,” he said, now coming through the doorway with his arms folded. He was a tall man, lean, like one who didn't get out and see the sun often, and his eyes were locked on the wounded. “But, because you two are the two on the ship I least want to make enemies with, I suppose I will have a look at him. On the eyes is it? Get me water. Cold. Now. And a rag, a clean one if you will.”

The twins made themselves scarce there, pretty much running to fulfill the man's request.