An alluring feminine voice woke Vindril up. After resting for a little bit on the sofa, he took care of some minuscule things on the cockpit, mainly registering a couple of data on his personal data pad; later he had gone to his cabin with the intention to lay his head down and finally rest for good. Even if he still had some reservations in leaving a ship travel unsupervised at hyper speed, the tiredness he had felt had been way too much for him to simply shrug it off. So, he decided to compromise: Lay down for a couple of hours to recover his strength; just the time necessary to shake off some of the tiredness he had felt. Evidently things had not unfolded as he had thought.
"We're reaching the Ishtar Nebula. Please get ready, for in a dozen of minutes we'll begin the necessary preparation to come out of hyper speed."
Vindril rubbed his eyes, shaking away the sleepiness that was still clinging to his now rested body. He wasn't completely rested of course. Far from it. To reach that state of inner peace, without any sort of pain cursing through his tested body, he would have needed to rest for a whole week. Something, of course, that he couldn't do, no matter how much he fucking wished to.
Ignoring his senses, that were literally screaming at him to just keep on laying down for just some more minutes, he got up and went to retrieve the clothes he had washed before laying down. Thankfully the Silver Death was a ship that had some mundane accommodations that made living in space a piece of a cake, so to speak. Long voyages across space were never an easy thing.
After grabbing them, and making sure they had not been damaged in any way, he put them.
Now, in retrospect, it might have been smarter to rest in the captain's quarters, the one that were located just under the cockpit. From what he had seen during the constructive effort carried out by Yurian and his crew, that room was designed to be the most spacious, at least among the ones adhibited as a living space. Obvious. It was the captain's quarters after all. What other role was deserving of such a room if not the person in command? Problem was, the room was left unfinished. Even if the walls and any other aspect closely related to construction side of things had been perfectly carried out, the room had been left…completely devoid of any furniture. Even the bed, the most essential piece of furniture in any living space, was totally absent. In good conscience, could he live in there? The answer was as obvious as it sounded. NO.
So where the hell was he supposed to stay, at least for the time being? The solution came under the form of a small room that was thought out to be more of a back room, used only for emergencies. It wasn't comfortable, or pretty, or any other appellative there was in between; but it served his purposes perfectly.
"Ugh…" he groaned. "Dammit it all…"
Reluctantly, after cursing some more, he put on his trusty pair of boots, which were the last thing he needed to complete his attire, and ventured forward. Immediately, his eyes squinted at the bluish lighting that was illuminating the whole corridor. Even if he had already seen that such a treatment had been reserved for every little corridor of the Silver Death, it was almost like it was the first time for him. Everything looked brand new and untouched; probably because it was; but he didn't have time to waste like that. He had to meet the crew and get ready to approach the planet.
//////
Despise his desire for a peaceful environment, perhaps also because he had just woken up, the mood inside the entrance room was anything but that. After a quick look around, he soon realized he was the one that had arrived last. Everyone, none excluded, was already seated in the perfectly restored and utterly comfy sofa he had laid down on some hours prior. Perhaps a bit naively, Vindril thought that seating down on such a fine piece of furniture was going to help in calming down everybody's mood. Comfiness, at least in his opinion, could do miracles to one's mood. Well, evidently he was the only one that found it sooo relaxing; the faces his companions were wearing clearly denoted some kind of angst and anger; he just hoped he still wasn't the target of it all.
"I don't like it." said Warben. "I don't like it one fucking bit."
Ar, who was seated right next to a sculpture that had been placed there for decorative purposes, turned their head. "That is inconsequential. We must stop at Girunne, or any other planet nearby. But we must stop nonetheless. That is unavoidable."
"I'm not talking about that." he said, looking resolute. Whatever it was that left that hard headed, and in some circumstance even foul mouthed, so angry, was evidently still a burden to him. And Vindril just knew what that was. Ahhh, what a pain…
"How can you all act like it's nothing?!" he asked, this time utterly incredulous. "That's a fucking A.I. we're talking about. A literal, damned, murderous A.I.! Surely that's not something we can simply ignore!"
Most of them simply ignored him, preferring instead to focus their energies in doing whatever they wonted. The only couple of people that deigned him of a look simply shrugged their shoulders, clearly denoting that they were completely fine with the situation, which obviously only seemed to further infuriate the experienced mechanic.
"W-what the fuck is wrong with you'll?! Can't you understand how dangerous that-that thin-?"
Vindril sighed. He had just gotten up from some well-deserved rest, even if he had done so outside the cabin he so wanted to inhabit. Truly, he couldn't understand why Warbren was acting so harshly. Sure, there was an A.I. inside that beautiful vessel that was traveling at astronomical speed; she also might have the power to take control over all the systems that were functioning on it, but Seren certainly didn't seem like the type of monster those stories pictured their kind to be. However, he also had to admit that the other entity that was…restrained? He wasn't sure, aside the fact that Seren was keeping her under control, of what exactly was the deal with that A.I. But he knew for a fact that she was dangerous. Really dangerous. Still, he couldn't help but feel like things were sort of under control…for the moment. Also, what was the point in losing his mind like that? By acting that way, Warbren was just wasting energies that would have been better spent in thinking about a solution. Seriously, never a moment of piece…
Vindril advanced, ready to somehow placate Warber in any way necessary; if push came to shove, he would just knock him out like he had done some months ago. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that, but he was prepared to do it nonetheless. After all, Girunne was always nearer, and the whole team certainly couldn't afford a distraction now. They had to plan things. And one cannot plan while being distracted by a madman screaming about the many dangers of the A.I.s.
However, before he even reached him, Sorin spoke, addressing him in the same disinterested tone he used in most cases. In this case it was especially true: he was reading a novel while laying down comfortably with his legs stretched out on the sofa, looking completely relaxed; and just as Vindril had learned, few things bothered him as much as being interrupted during his reading moments. It was like his little alone time.
"If you don't shut the hell up now, I'll kick your ass. You're disrupting me." he stated, his eyes always pressed on the page he was reading on the projection in front of him.
"I couldn't care less about any of the shit you're reading. We hav-"
"Well, that's perfect Because I don't give a fuck about any of the bullshit you're spitting out of our mouth. So, once again, shut up."
"Oh yeah?"
Vindril put his hands over his face in frustration. He knew how that shit was going to unfold before it even happened. No, he wasn't an oracle; nor he had any of the associated powers that came with it. He just had the ability to recognize a fucked-up situation when he saw one. And that was exactly it.
Exactly the moment he thought of those things, Warbren, just like he had done with Vindril, charged right at him, his intentions clear as day. Now, if executed to the perfection, against any enemy that was unprepared, charging ahead like a fury wasn't a bad tactic. Not at all. But the mechanic didn't know Sorin's skills in fist fighting. Nobody did. Well, now they were going to be gifted with a free demonstration. What luck…
With a feat of agility that Vindril wasn't expecting from him, Sorin jumped up from the comfy position he had been in since…well, he didn't know how long; but if that man had the time to jump into reading one of his adored novels, than he must have been laying there for quite some time.
As he stood there so unfazed that a yawn was the only thing missing, Warben ignored the feat of physicality his adversary had just done, and tried to hit him with a right hook to the face. A poor choice, thought Vindril. The nimbleness Sorin had just displayed denoted a quickness and a control over his body that wasn't common. Not at all. To charge like that against him, head on and without any sort of tactic, was going to be Warbren downfall. Vindril was sure of it.
Sorin sidestepped, making the punch hit nothing but empty air. Warbren, even more upset then before, tried to hit him again with another punch, a left uppercut this time. Sorin parried it easily.
Then, by placing his left foot at a ninety degree toward the left, and by Vindril could only describe as good body alignment, Sorin attacked. The high kick he unleashed hit Warbren right over his unprotected temple, knocking him out instantly. His body fell down on the cold and metallic floor like a sack of potatoes, effectively attracting everyone's attention.
"Ahhh what a fucking pain in the ass…" said Vindril. He couldn't exactly fault him, as he too had been ready to deal with Warben in that way. Still, the crew's morale certainly wasn't going to benefit any of that.
"Don't. He was acting crazy. Don't deny it. You know it too. He deserved it. Besides, now he can sleep it off. That way he won't be a bother."
"Still…"
"…You better move him." said Sully. Strangely enough, he was pretty calm about it all. But perhaps, being a bartender and all, he had seen his good share of scuffles here and there. "He's going to get sick if he stays there."
"Why should that be my problem, Sully?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because we don't have a medic on board smartass?"
"If that is what's worrying you all, I can assure you I can look after your wellbeing efficiently." suddenly stated Seren. Her projection appeared shortly after. "I have access to all the medial records and procedures across the galaxy. My calculations show that I can guarantee your wellbeing at approximate 75.39%. Feel free to be amazed."
"Huh…" said Vindril. "Don't take it the wrong way buuuut…why that percentage?"
"After a quick analysis of everything that is currently at our disposal, I cannot guarantee a higher percentage. While we have access to the most basic Hydro Gels, meds, and other little things, we currently lack an infirmary and lab to study all the strange things we'll encounter in the future. I highly recommend building both at the soonest opportunity."
Everyone voiced their approval. It was also pointed out that a real armoury was needed. So Vindril promised that, as soon as the necessary funds were found, those things were going to be taken care of. Well, not before he had his bedroom done, but they didn't need to know that now, did they?
"Anyway, I guess we should talk about Girunne, right? I heard we're almost there."
While he asked that question, Warben was quickly carried to an empty seat on the sofa and laid on his back. He was unconscious, and he was going to be for quite some time; but Vindril paid all of that no mind.
"Yes. The data provided by the S.N.A. points out that we should reach Girunne in a manner of moments now. It should take us no more than a couple of minutes."
"Damn. I thought we had more time. Well, no matter. Leaving aside the matter of the other A.I., which we'll have to deal with in the future, one way or another, we have some dire need of resources. We're low on fuel, low on supplies, both perishable and not."
"We basically need to buy every damned thing, then…" said Sorin, who had gone back to reading. How the hell was he keeping up with the others was a mystery Vindril couldn't even understand.
"Weeeelll…I wouldn't exactly say buy, you know…"
"…Wait." said Sully. "Are you implying what I think you're implying." a devilish smirk appeared on his face.
"I'll be honest. We'll have to steal. Not all of it, of course. That would only attract unwonted attention. We can't have that. But it's an undeniable fact that I don't have the necessary funds to cover of all it."
Sorin laughed. "You're not exactly on a good a start if you really want us to consider you as captain."
"Hey! I'll have you know that managing a ship is not easy." said Vindril. "Also, you could contribute some of yours funds, if you're so much better off than me."
"Not a chance in hell. You wanna be a captain. Good. But you're going to share with us all the coins that will come your way."
At the risk of losing his train of thoughts, Vindril stopped for a moment and inhaled some air. He swore, that fucking Sorin was one skilful man; but damned it all how much of an asshole he could be at times. One of those days he would put him in his place…Maybe…
"…Anyway-" sighed Vindril. "That's the situation. I'm currently running low on coins. Well, on any currency, really. So, unless we find a way to make some quick money, which I seriously doubt, we'll have to resort to some old embezzlement."
"Yes!" said Sully happily.
Everyone, save for his gigantic friend Luzir, stared at him confused. Even Vindril, who had developed a pretty good bond with the half man, looked at with confusion burning in his eyes. Why was the man so happy about it? The answer to that question soon followed.
"What? I had a life before Keelo Prime, you know?" he said as a matter of fact.
"…I guess that life wasn't in any way connected with your current…occupation?" asked Vindril.
"Ehehe…let's just say I was pretty good with my slight of hands. For example…"
Without offering further explanation, the little black haired halwerian quickly advanced towards Vindril, stopping right in front of him. Then, smiling devilish at him, he extended his hand, clearly wanting him to shake it in greeting. Vindril smiled. What in the hell did he want to accomplish? Still, he decided to humour him.
"So-" asked Vindril entertained. "Is this supposed to be how you approach a target you want to rob?"
Sully grinned, showing his perfectly white teeth. "No. This is how I rob them. Here. I believe this is yours."
In his other hand, the one that Vindril wasn't keeping in a grip, there was a projector ring. His eyes opened wide. It was his. To say that Vindril was shocked to the core, would have put it lightly. What the fuck! How had Sully done that?! That's unbelievable. "How!?" he asked, releasing the small man's hand to put his ring right back where it belonged.
"I have my ways."
Suddenly, the metallic and robotic voice of the S.N.A. blasted through the speakers mounted all around the vessel. "TEN SECONDS TO DESTINATION. ALL PASSANGERS, WELCOME TO ISHTAR NEBULA"
Damn. Vindril would have liked more time. There were still many things that needed to be addressed. Although…the priorities were way more limited, weren't they?