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10.09.2015 , 05:16 PM
Part 3-56. In which the crew has a good time afloat

This series has pervasive spoilers for the Shadow of Revan Rishi questline. It also regularly uses the chapter 3 titles for the Sith Warrior and Sith Inquisitor, along with the background of their companions.

A pirate more cheerful than nice
When left to her own lone device
Will probably cause,
Without respite or pause,
A boatload of fun in a trice.

"EEEYYYAAARRRRR," roared Nalenne, swinging from the rigging. It was proving treacherous going for her heeled boots, but she climbed on regardless. Ankles could always be replaced later if necessary; she could ask about Rutau’s surgeon.

Rho, standing in the crow's nest, waved his hat at her. "Avast! Uh, land ho!"

"That's because we're cruising a hundred yards from the shore," yelled Kira. And, sourly, "Could you please remember that you're the icon of the free world?"

"My lord," called Quinn, "The situation here requires your attention."

Nalenne groaned. "Fine." She stood out anyway for a moment, letting her cape ripple in the brisk sea wind. It was a fine sensation.

“My lord,” Quinn said crisply. “I have finished analysis of the Nova Blades access codes. I believe we can extrapolate them to–”

“Great!” Nalenne said cheerfully. “Hey, let’s get the crew together to sort this out. Hey, crew!”

Lieutenant Ritter manned the helm. Nalenne waited for the others to catch up.

“All ready, my lord,” said Captain Rutau.

“Uh,” said Nalenne. “Where’s Lieutenant Hareth?”

Ensign Rylon piped up. "She's lashed herself to the mizzenmast, my lord."


Ensign Rylon's forehead worked itself up into a knot once or twice. "Why wouldn't you, really?"

Quinn discreetly pinched the bridge of his nose while his eyes squeezed shut.

FWEEOOOP. The ship rocked. A hefty blaster bolt shot from somewhere below the gunwales to shore, where it ruined the days of a pair of tonitrans who had really just been minding their own business.

“Cannons working,” Broonmark buzzed loudly from belowdecks.

“Excellent,” Nalenne yelled back. “Battle stations, everybody, this is gonna be great!”

Ensign Rylon developed a familiar sort of strain about the eyes. “Uh, where are our battle stations?” he said in the voice of a man hoping he wasn’t about to get killed for questioning orders.

“I don’t know, pick one,” said Nalenne. “Hey, Rho! Ready?”

Rho flourished his hat and pointed toward the Nova Blade’s crashed-ship base. “Ramming sp–uh, belay that!”
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---(Ceterum autem censeo, Malavai esse delendam.)--- DELETA MALAVAI EST