The Captain's Grave

The fog that came up saved your hull, of that you can be sure. The Flying Cragworm severely outclassed your smaller freighter, and attacked with the ferocity of its desert born name sake.You're not sure what luck shined down on you, but the Flying Cragworm does not follow you. The crew follows they're captain's orders and rigged for silent running, slips into the shoals and around the island nearby. By the time you're in the open sea, it is dark and you sail under a sky full of dazzling stars.

Your captain, Lauchmair, slumps to the deck. Graciously wounded in battle with the pirate ship, he heroically guided the ship to safety, caring for his crew before his own needs. The first mate, Jolly Camber, was knocked into the sea, blood foaming from his rent belly.

The survivors gather together in the middeck. Lauchmair is laid out, dead from blood loss, and wrapped his proud long navy duster with white epaulets, his officer coast from the war. Well, some call it a war, even a civil war, but the Empire calls it only an insurrection. The winners write the histories, after all.

Dante stands too one side, twirling his fishknife in his fingers. The quartermaster has been speaking quietly with the crew for the past fifteen minutes. Whispers one on one. Purposefully not looking at anyone. Not yet. He's going to make his bid for captain soon. But not yet, not until he's sure he has the votes.

---

Introduce your characters, with descriptions. Add what Captain Lauchmair meant to you. He's an open book so help me write his eulogy to start us off. Also, how do you deal with this play for power by Dante?

The Crew
Captain: vacant
First mate: vacant
Boatswain (bos'n): (VagueGM's Arkus PC)
quartermaster: Dante
Doctor: Cordell (Data's PC)
Navigator: Areen Sincos (NABO's Delve PC)

Sailors:
Resalon (Windyridge's Glaive PC)
'Frenzied' Xix
Maitland 'Vulture'
Camus, sailor
Alvar 'The Brave'
Dorley 'The Snake'

It all happened so fast. The attack, the battle, the injured flowing in. Cordell was always confident in his abilities as a healer - but, he'd never been in a situation like this. He'd never seen war - not like the others had. It took all his nerve for the young doctor to keep his hands steady as he weaved the nanites in the air into sutures and stitches to patch up the wounded, to keep his voice calm as he conducted triage in their ship's tiny sickbay. It shook him more than he wanted to admit, to see so much pain in one place, and to have the sole responsibility of fixing it - of healing this crew - his crew - resting solely on his narrow shoulders.

But, he was determined. This was what he was meant to do. And so, steeling himself against the screams and moans of his companions, Cordell got to work.

It was hours later when he was finally able to get his last patient stable. Their ship had escaped, fortunately, though not without losses. His knees almost buckled when he heard that Jolly had been killed, his body lost at sea. He'd loved Jolly, the first mate like a big brother to most of the crew.

Washing the blood off of his hands, Cordell leaves sick bay for the first time in hours and heads up to the deck, to see if any of his crewmembers had smaller injuries they didn't think warranted healing (which the doctor vehemently disagreed with). But, as soon as the nano emerged, the first thing he saw was their captain falling to the deck.

"Captain!"

He'd kept his cool so well down in sick bay, but this surprised a near-scream out of him. He rushed over to Captain Lauchmair and quickly began to examine him, blood coating his fingers once again. It was bad - looking around, the Captain had already lost so much blood. How long had he been up here holding this wound? Why hadn't he come down so Cordell could help him?

It's not too late. The nano thinks, even though his brain is rapidly evaluating his chances, and they weren't good. I can still save him. He prays as he shakily begins to stitch their captain back together. He's already overtaxed, his control and focus wavering, but if Captain Lauchmair could stand out here for hours with a hole in his gut just to get the crew to safety, the least Cordell could do is save his life.

He'd never seen the captain look so pale and weak before. It was childish - and maybe Cordell still is too much of a kid to be out on these seas - but, the nano had always seen the captain as invincible. A steady rock standing unwaveringly against the sea. For him to look so frail...

A pale hand falls on Cordell's shaking ones and pushes them away. The nano looks up at Lauchmair in confusion, but the captain just smiles grimly and shakes his head.

Then, he's gone.

And Cordell is left kneeling there, with blood on his hands.

When the ship was attacked, Areen made her way below deck. She can hold herself in a fight but she much prefers not to, so when fighting breaks out, she is usually not in the midst of it. She secures cargo, makes sure everyone is sufficiently armed, occasionally sets off traps she planted, but she is often also needed to help the ship escape. She takes the helm when the captain is preoccupied with other things, so frequently when weapons are drawn, the responsility of escape falls on her.

When the captain ordered the ship into shallow waters, she rushed back on deck and made sure they wouldn't run aground themselves. The captain and Areen were shouting updates at each other but when his voice got weaker, she knew something was up even though she couldn't see him. Then Cordell emerged and she heard him yell. Areen closed her eyes and swallowed hard, this cannot be happening.

She quickly checked that they weren't on collision course for anything and ran off in the direction she heard the commotion from. She found Cordell leaning over the captain, trying his best. But he's just a kid, his training couldn't prepare him for this. She kneels down and whispers to the captain "Looks like our crooked ways have finally caught up with us, huh?" she smiles sadly, remembering how the captain always joked. "I wish you didn't have to go yet, Samill. I never did get the chance to show you my favourite secret place. Though looking back, maybe it wasn't much of a secret place at all. Maybe it was right here, next to you."

With tears in her eyes she watched him take his last breath and slip away. Now here we are, quietly gathered on deck. Silenced by the heaviness of today's events. The captain laying in front of us, the first mate nowhere to be found, though one of the sailors says he saw him fall overboard grievously wounded. Plenty of other injuries between all of them. Only Dante is whispering, slimy bastard. Areen knows exactly what he is planning...

Resalon had never been on a ship of any kind unless you count a small dinghy used in the occasional fishing foray. He was too busy staying alive along with the rest of the inhabitants of his poverty-stricken island of Maelock. His unquenchable curiosity and voracious appetite for exploration lead to his securing a place onboard a ship. It made sense that he would want to take the next step and get off the island. With his family in dire straits and the rebellion quashed, there was nothing to keep him in Maelock, especially when his mentor had been killed, most likely assassinated by an empire lackey.

The ship's captain Lauchmair had heard of his exceptional fighting prowess and was looking for a strong, tenacious, crew member. One who could do some heavy lifting, explore the unknown, and be loyal. He took the young Resalon under his wing and taught him about the ship. The one frustration Resalon had was that he could find potentially valuable things during his explorations but could not craft any numenera. He eventually was resigned to this fate. Besides, there were others that could, and the captain taught him about teamwork and patience, and using the assets he did have.

On the ship, Resalon would help Aereen with cargo. He did the heavy lifting and she figured out where to secure it. He would help where needed and wasn't too proud to do any job asked of him. He was strong and stocky, fast and smart. Handsome with curious brown eyes, he had thick brown hair with two stripes of bright grey running through its medium length.

Now he found himself on deck, with the captain in dire straits. He was not political and he hadn't made an effort to fully understand the rebellion or the empire, leaving him subject to the influence of others. He wasn't a stranger to bloody conflict but the Captain's injuries were hard for him to process. He felt useless just standing there but there was nothing he could do.

Dante, the ship's quartermaster, he did not like one bit. He was arrogant and not as smart as he thought he was. Resalon also had a sneaky suspicion that Dante had a hidden agenda and didn't care a jot about the crew or anyone but himself.

From their vantage point in the rigging of the main mast Adil sees the captain fall and knows in their gut it is serious, but there is still work to be done if they are to avoid being caught again, and the medic is taking care of it. The sudden quiet makes them look down at the deck and they know the captain is dead --Cordell would not have stopped working unless one of them was.

Adil has known the captain a long time. They are not surprised at him giving his life for his crew. While it is not true that that is the way he would have wanted to die --Adil knows Lauchmair planned to never die, but admitted he was executing that plan badly-- it is very in-character of the stubborn man.

"To your stations!" Adil calls. "We are not out of this yet. Rig for quiet running! Lash that cargo, we don't want to leave a trail!" They start issuing orders to the deck crew.

A prickle on the back of their neck makes them look over at the quartermaster. They can not hear what he is saying, but his posture is a give-away. THAT is going to be a problem. Adil thinks, but there is no time to deal with it now, there is work to be done, and Lauchmair's vessel needs to be made shipshape before they can take the time to grieve (and scheme), or the captain's sacrifice will be for nought.

Alvar the handsome sailor, howls before Maitland claps her hand over him.

"Quiet, fool. We're not safe from the Flying Cragsworm yet." Alvar whimpers in grief, somehow making the effort seem practiced and polished and magical.

The quartermaster gives a black look at Adil but can't disagree. "Tend to your tasks, lads, we have leagues to go before we measure safe with by the cup."

Adil can see Dante doing the rounds --whispering in the ears of those susceptible and, it appears, passing out surreptitious portions of grog to those who seem favorable. Deep down Adil knows they should be doing something about this, sooner rather than later, but the ship has taken damage, and their priority --as bosun-- is to get it and everyone aboard to safety. Dante should be focusing on the same, but he can claim is acting on his duties to the crew and morale.

When Adil agreed to take on this venture with Lauchmair, it was on the express condition that they would not have to deal with this sort of politics and infighting --much to the captain's disappointment at the time. Still, they worry that this will bite them later.

The grieving crew is working well together, and Adil finds they really love them. They had not thought about staying on without Lauchmair, but thinking about what comes next makes them sad, leaving is not as clear-cut an option as they had assumed it would be.

---

Eventually, when the ship is made sound and they have put distance between themselves and any pursuit --and with no orders needed-- the crew gather to say their farewells to the captain and the absent first mate.

Adil hangs back, watching carefully. They don't have a speech planned --they never do, until the last minute-- and don't want to speak, but there are people here who would expect it --rely on it even-- and it is selfish to wallow in one's own grief... but everyone is selfish, sometimes.

Adil orders everyone to their station and Areen walks to the compartment that held her working area, a desk and surrounding walls covered in maps of all kinds of places. She sits down at her desk and stares across the room. The chair on the captain's desk is empty and she feels useless alone in this room.

She picks up the compass he had gifted her on the 10 year mark of sailing together. She had taken great care of it, even though she used it all day every day. As she watches the needle sway softly with the waves a teardrop splashes on the still unscratched cover glass. The shards in her skin give off a soft glow while she cries quietly. Then, in a sudden anger she hurls the compass across the room, the glass shatters. "Fuck, you were too young for this Samill! It's not right." she yells at no one in particular. She decides right then and there that she is going to bring the captain's body to somewhere he would have wanted to be, give him a proper burial. She knows a smaller island, they occasionally stored some cargo there, uninhabited because it's covered in dense jungle but Captain Lauchmair spoke very fondly of it.

Resalon smoothes down his hair, a habit he has when stressed or upset, and makes his way to the cargo areas to check on the goods. The ship had done a lot of sudden shifting during the battle, and he needed to check that their cargo was still secure.

He was happy to get away from the obnoxious Dante too. Reporting to him would be a bitter pill to swallow if that's what was going to happen.

Resalon finds the cargo jostled a little, but one thing that is apparent is a mysterious crate that was loaded at the last port. The captain had said it was a delivery to ... well, he didn't rightly say. He'd been interrupted by Jolly Camber and never answered.

He hears a sob, more a sniffle, from near the stores at the stem. When he investigates, he finds Camus. The science minded wright is trending to the ships numenera, and likely finding a quiet moment to mourn her brother, the first mate.

Cordell just sits in shock for a moment, hands still hovering over the captain’s body. He doesn’t look up when Areen comes by to speak, but he does listen to her mourning and feels his gut lurch.

He can’t afford to lose it right now though. Just as Adil calls for the crew to continue on, Cordell knows his duty. It’s up to him to handle the body, wrap it, and take it below deck to await the funeral. He thinks of it as ‘the body’ now - the Captain is long gone now.

The nano isn’t in any state of mind to pay much attention to the politics of the ship - he may be naive, but with the grief he’s feeling right now, he can’t imagine how anyone could be plotting anything at a time like this. Not even Dante could be that callous - right?

Determinedly, Cordell wraps the body with cool professionalism, then takes the body down to the med bay for the time being. They’ll decide on the method of burial when the ship is out of danger.

Resalon adjusts any cargo that might have been jostled a bit and resecures everything. Then there was that mysterious crate again with a delivery address unknown. It had piqued his curiosity back when it was first loaded, and it was stirring up his questioning mind again. What is that thing, he wonders?

His musings are abruptly brought to an end however when he hears some noise at the stern. It's Camus, doing what she does with the numenera. "Hello Camus. I didn't realize you were in here. I am sorry about your brother. You must be very sad."

If Adil heard the outburst they judiciously choose not to comment, and instead wait a few moments before entering the small charts room.

"What's our heading, Nav?" They ask Areen gently --using her title rather than her name as an acknowledgement of how important she is it to ship.

The captain had not told the rest of the crew what their cargo's destination was and Adil hopes he or Jolly informed Areen, but would not be surprised if they had not had time to, in which case she would know best where they can layup and lick their wounds while working it out.

They bend and carefully pick up the compass and broken glass and place it back where it lives. There is no judgement in the act.

In response to Adil's question, Areen pulls a rolled up map from a compartment and spreads it across the table: "Change of plans, we're taking a detour", she growls.

She wordlessly measures out some distances and then points to a spot on the map so tiny it's barely visible. "This is the place, and we... are here" she explains, putting her finger on another map area, now in a friendlier but still commanding tone. "It's about two weeks out of our way to the cargo dropoff... As for right now, we can either make land right about here and wait out until we're sure the Cragworm is off our trail or move to deeper waters and do our best to outrun them."

Adil let's the harsh words flow off them, they understand that people react badly at times like this. They instead nod and study the map until realisation dawns.

"Ah. Yes," They agree when they recognise the location. "I think he would like that." The captain had no family --other than the crew-- to whom his body should be returned --unlike Jolly, but there they have no body to return, and Adil does not envy Camus having to break that news to her family.

"With you at the wheel," Adil says to Areen encouragingly. "I am sure we can outmaneuver anything they have." Their mind is reaching out to the ship --simple as it is-- and assessing their condition. "We are rattled and hurt, but we will hold together." They say, meaning more than just the planks of the ship, hopefully Areen will pick up on that and take heart.

Areen nods. She stands up, about to head to the bridge. Then she carefully grabs her compass and examines it: "Thanks for picking this up... I'll go ahead and let Cordell know about the plans for the body"

Just as she's about to head out, she stops and turns:"Adil, watch out for Dante. I've told the Captain time and time again that he's up to no good. He wouldn't believe it, you know how stubborn he was... but I'm telling you too, Dante is exactly the kind of guy who would take advantage of this situation"

Areen walks down the narrow hallway leading to the sick bay, she announces: "Cordell, I need to speak with you." She walks up to him and says: "How long can you keep the Captain in his current condition? And if the answer is anything less than two weeks, you have about 30 seconds to come up with a way to make it two weeks" her vaguely threatening tone, Cordell would realize, is more determination than any actual threat to his safety.

Camus wipes her eyes with her sleeve, her face defiant and her back ramrod straight, as if expecting a ribbing. A sailor's life is often a hard one, and weakness is quickly washed away.

"I'll be fine. It is the way, Resalon. And Cordell," she adds as the doctor struggles dragging the captain's body down into cargo. "You have business with me?" The last is said gently, as if she realizes that the doctor is less likely to be combative as the shadowy glaive.

Dante approaches Adil after Areen leaves. "You got the rank, bos'n, but I've got the loyalty of the crew. It would be a good sign if you backed me as captain. I'd even let you stay bos'n, you've done that job well enough. Alvar will be me mate."

Alvar follows him, and leans against the side. "We got no quarrel with you, if you don't make it a quarrel. Just, no one wants the likes of you in charge of what's what, savvy?"

"Ok, I'll leave you be but in a moment. You wouldn't happen to know what's in that crate would you, or where it's going?"

It's about then that he sees Cordell in need of aid. "Here, Cordell. Let me help you with ....," but he doesn't finish. He can't bring himself to say the body. He helps the doctor move it into the cargo area.

Cordell was just getting the captain's body onto one of the examination tables with Camus called out to him. He'd seen the wright crying, likely over the death of her brother, and the doctor knew his own grief at the loss of the first mate was nothing compared to hers. A more experienced physician might have words of comfort, but for now all Cordell could do is keep a respectful distance and pretend he didn't see the tears.

Which is why he's so surprised when Camus call out to him. His black eyes turn to her, intense and examining in a way that he knew others found to be unnerving, but he didn't actually know how to stop.

Resalon grabs the other end and lifts most of the weight, the glaive much stronger than the nano, and Cordell takes the excuse to break eye contact for now. Cordell silently directs Resalon to lift it onto the table, and thanks him softly, before he turns to respond to Camus with his hands free, "... The body, it needs to be-" Before he could finish his sentence however, the navigator announces her presence - causing the doctor to jolt at the unexpected arrival. "A-Areen!"

The first question Areen asks is one he expects, and almost immediately opens his mouth to answer - only for it to shut with a snap at the navigator's second sentence. Two weeks was a long time to store a body on a ship, a regular embalming wouldn't be enough. It was certainly not a problem Cordell had put any thought into solving before, though perhaps he should have.

The thirty second time limit doesn't fluster him, whether it was an exaggeration or not - he'd never been the type to delay in figuring out a problem. His dark eyes turn to the wright again, "Camus, do we have anything on the ship that can be used to cool the body to freezing?"

Adil sighs, looking sadly at Dante. Doesn't everybody know they don't want command? Is that the problem, that Lauchmair clearly intended it, and they turned it down? Lauchmair knew their reasons --not that the stopped him from asking-- but the rest don't understand what such a thing would mean to Adil, the trauma it would unscab. Anyway, they don't want it... but also can't picture the crew holding together under Dante's command.

Adil hopes Dante is not reacting to Areen's warning, but won't shift the cross-hair in her direction if she was not overheard.

"You will get no quarrel from me." Adil says, using their own words to mollify them. "If you do take charge," they continue very calmly --hoping to nudge Dante towards personal growth-- "I am sure you will put the crew's needs ahead of your own. All good leaders do... eventually."

Adil does not think they could serve under Dante, but then, they were only here as a favor to the captain, and without the captain: is there anything keeping them here? Their mind goes to Areen --with her recent warnings and the brash command in her voice. Would she get herself into trouble challenging Dante? And then to Cordell, who they can not leave to be corrupted by Dante, and whose voice they can hear from down the passage. The medic must be taking this hard, and Adil needs to have words with them, to reassure them and explain the captains's choices --if that is possible-- but both of them have work to do, and Dante's ambition is eating up valuable time.

"Good on you. I'll inform the others. Lauchmair was a good man, and I won't besmirch his memory, but no more lickspittle Empire loving is going on anymore, savvy?" He seems to be waiting for Adil's reply, expecting a certain reaction he's baited you for.

Areen turns around a little surprised, she hadn't seen Camus standing there. Right now she doesn't have the emotional capacity to offer support to the obviously shaken wright, but she does offer a sincere: "Camus, I'm sorry."

Then, satisfied with the answer Cordell provided, she trods off. She wonders if Jolly might have washed up somewhere. If the sharks haven't gotten to him, Areen might be able to provide a good estimate where he ended up based on the currents. But right now, she has to focus on the task at hand: threading the narrow channels of deep enough water between the islands they were currently in the midst of to get back to the open ocean and outrun the Cragworm. Areen doesn't expect them to have hung around but better safe than sorry. She'll get her payback another time...

"Yes, Dante. I understand." Adil says without inflection, fearing they understand all to well. "No love for the empire. Just as you say." And more true that you could possibly imagine.

For a while, now, Lauchmair had been voicing concerns that Dante was aware of their old affiliation with the Empire, and Adil had tried to deny it... or that it mattered. But Dante is making it clear that he 'knows' and that he thinks this gives him some advantage. This belief worries Adil more than what he thinks he knows.

"But why can't you say, now that .... well .... now that he is gone? I mean if it is something that affects us all, shouldn't we know?" Resalon didn't like secrets, at least the ones he knew about. "I mean it can't hurt him now."

He felt bad to keep reminding her about her dead brother but he was dead and she'd have to come to grips with that sooner or later. And what if the mystery box could help them escape their current predicaments in some way? He felt it was wise to push a little. He could ask Adil about his take on the matter later.

"I see. So there's someone already inside. OK. Thank you Camus. And again, I'm sorry. I was very fond of him and I owe him much." Resalon decides to head back to see Adil.

Cordell's eyes go wide. "What do you mean there is someone inside?!" He says, probably too loudly.

Getting Adil was probably a good idea - they were supposed to be the next in charge, right? But, all of the doctor's concern was directed at the fact that there was someone - dead or alive - on this ship without his knowledge. The young doctor felt himself getting frustrated at the lack of care some of his crewmates took when it came to the health of those on the ship. When he continued, it was with a low but harsh whisper, "Bodies carry diseases, you can't just pack them onto a ship without any precautions! Why didn't you tell me, so I could-?"

The nano's words trailed off, flinching back almost instinctively. There were probably many reasons why the captain, Jolly, and Camus didn't inform him of this - perhaps even good reasons - but, all of them inevitably lead to the conclusion that they didn't really trust him, even when it came to something that could directly affect the health of the ship.

Resalon fetches Adil, who no doubt looks thoughtful. When they are told about the cargo, they follow Resalon down.

All four of you are standing at the crate, and when you open it, you find an iridescent silver bag, roughly the size of a human body. It's closed at one end, with a metal, circular seal. Strange letters glow on the bag, changing slightly as you watch. At the foot of the crate is a small knapsack, emblazoned with the Empire insignia, and a pair of service boots, again, obviously Empire uniform issue to anyone who has seen them before. Whoever is in the bag, this is likely their clothes and gear. "This is all I've seen. But the Captain treated them with respect, for the brief moment the crate was open."

Cordell really wants to say that the fact that they're alive is even more dangerous (he honestly can't believe how recklessly people used Numenera despite the fact that most of them had no idea what they were doing).

He managed to stay quiet, though his posture became stiff and worried as he waited for Adil and Resalon to return.

Once the crate was opened, however, his doctor instincts kicked in again and he immediately reached out toward the body bag, and the circular metal seal at the end, hands hovering millimeters from the material, feeling out for the nanites in the material, looking for a way to determine if the person inside was truly alive and alright.

Sensing Cordell's anxiety, Resalon tried to figure out a reason why he was nervous. This being was in stasis and couldn't possibly be a threat, could they? He was glad to see him engage with the body and perhaps now they could get to the bottom of who was in the body bag, why they were in the bag and where were they going.

Smoothing his hair back, he leaned over the crate and realized that perhaps he was a little nervous too.

Cordell feels instantly the "magic" of the pod. As he holds his hand in place, the numenera adjusts to him, and he feels a growing connection to the pod. He senses that the person inside is alive -- sort of. They are suspended outside of time. When released they will be as they were exactly as when they were sealed inside, unaware that any time will have passed as for them, none will have. As to their state when they entered, they were alive is all that he can discern.

Areen, meanwhile, is completely unaware of what's going on below deck. She is standing on the bridge, carefully cleaning out the rest of the glass bits in her compass while keeping an eye on the course and occasionally shouting some commands to the sailors working the rigs

Cordell reluctantly withdraws his hands, "You're right, they are alive."

That he can't tell in what state they're in bothers him, but considering the kind of stasis they're under, he accepts that it is something that isn't immediately important. At least, not compared to everything else going on right now.

But, he can't help but feel a little curious, he looks at the wright, "Why are you showing this to us now, Camus?"

What were you up to Lauchmair? Adil ponders nervously as they are called in to look at the box with its body and, more importantly, Imperial uniform. Neither Lauchmair nor Adil talk (talked) about the Empire, and tried to keep any dealings low-key and deniable Shipping the uniform in the box is not subtle, and suggests there would be need for identification wherever they were destined.

Their implants automatically reach out to try to read any records the 'machine' has about who it is transporting... and why... and why like that.

"Did someone say 'suspended animation'?" They ask even though they weren't in the room at the time. "What reason would there be for that? And would that not suggest something bad would happen if they were ... reanimated?"

They are glad Camus brought up the 'respect' the 'body' is owed, obvious as it is to them, Adil would prefer not to have to derive this conclusion from what the uniform implies.

"I am showing it to you because someone needs to know. Dante would toss it over board, or at least whoever is inside. The Captain wouldn't want that. It's important. At least, it was important, to him."

"Who is then? Did he have a wife? A son or daughter perhaps?" Resalon was nothing if not direct and the sight of the uniform irked him and made him think of his mentor.

Cordell somewhat distantly thought that he should feel a certain way about that uniform. He knows for many of the crew any iconography of the Empire invokes a sense of anger, regret, and hopelessness in them. Cordell had certainly felt those things, years ago, when he was told that the Empire had taken out the Rebellion's healing center - and his mother along with it.

But, those feelings had been buried under years of study - of dedicating himself to the pursuit of medicine and healing, and upholding the oath of care his mother had taught him. Empire or no Empire, it was Cordell's duty to look after the infirm.

Which is precisely why the suggestion that Dante would toss them over board gets such a visceral reaction out of the nano. "He will not." He says aloud, before he even has the thought to speak, and realizes it came out much harsher than he intended. He backs up slightly.

As the conversation turns to who it could be in there, Cordell begins to feel more concerned about what state they're in. Who knew how a stasis like this could affect the body? And who knew what could have happened to make that risk acceptable?

"Can we move this into Sick Bay?" Cordell asks, a small gesture encompassing the whole of the conversation and the crate. "I'd feel better if I could check him over, and our Quartermaster never did like spending any more time in there than strictly necessary." Though whether that was due to an aversion to hospitals in general or a distain for Cordell himself was hard to tell.

Camus touches Resalon's arm sensing he feels as she does. "I don't know anything about them. The captain said something to my brother about 'smuggling' the crate, but I didn't hear the rest."

She leans over to the deck collar and suddenly activates it. The collar opens, and a woman's voice from inside says, "Nothing happened. Maybe it's broke."

Camus holds her hand top her mouth. "I didn't mean to--"

The woman pulls the sack over her head revealing her middle aged self. Purple hair, glowing tattoos on one side of her head, and sharp features.

This can only be the Empire's Colonel Celia Tyde, known as The Butcher to the rebel cause. Everyone would recognize her description, coupled with the Empire insignia on the kit bag.

"Ah I see," Resalon says to Camu. As he continues to wonder about the mystery within the sac, it reveals itself. His eyes go wide as he sees a person he's only ever heard about in ballads, her purple hair, and tattoos the subjects of much derision.

He steps back reflexively, the bile almost rising from his stomach. It is a visceral reaction more than anything and he knows that he had better keep his cool. There had to be a reason she was here. His captain must have had a plan and he would respect that.

Cordell flinches at the sight of the Colonel. Even he recognized her from the stories some of former rebels told.

He takes several steps back, stumbling over his feet and other cargo as he retreated. He doesn't know why she would be the one in the container, but it couldn't be good, right?

Out of habit more than anything else, his eyes scan the purple haired woman, evaluating her condition.

Adil resists the urge to step back with the rest, but instead steps between them and Tyde, raising their hands playactingly to everyone.

"Colonel," they say as calmly as they can. "We mean you no harm. You have been in stasis..." They are not sure where to go from here.

"You were accidentally awoken. And we are unprepared." They explain. "Is that a problem? I am sorry to bombard you with questions, but we don't know the reason you were in stasis. Are you at risk? Are you a risk to us? Do you need to be refrozen?"

These seem like the more pressing issues, and will hopefully focus the minds of those present on finding solutions rather than reacting to danger. Adil does not know why the captain --the 'late captain', technically, but that has not sunk in yet-- would have her on board, but telling her that might not be the best idea till they have more answers.

Her eyes give nothing away, but they might linger on Adil a moment longer than the rest of you. She climbs out of the crate slowly, wearing only underclothes. Her body is marked in scars, and a few oddly placed glowing tattoos. "I'll answer your questions but only if your ship's captain is here. Is that one of you?"

"The captain is dead." Adil says trying to keep the sadness from their voice. "Killed escaping the Flying Cragworm but an hour ago."

They hesitate for a moment before adding. "You can talk to me." Because you don't want to talk to Dante. They add to themself.

She looks at the others obviously and then at Adil again, but she accepts the invitation. "I was to be smuggled out of the Empire, and when we got far enough away, I'd explain why I've turned traitor to the Emperor. But surprise twist, I've always been a traitor. A mole placed early on in the beginning days of the rebellion. We feared that the Empire was using their resources to gather any strange technology they could to control the people. Or if not control to kill, or pacify. I've spent the last decade proving to them I was the best woman for the job, and eventually rose to head of research division. That's when I found what they truly planned."

She looks like she wants to pace, or wants a drink. Maybe both.

"At this point, I'm hated by everyone, by the rebellion for the atrocities I've committed, by the Empire for what I know. My name is already being circulated to death squads for kill on sight. If you're loyalists, then tell me now so we can hash this out. If you're honour lies with your late captain, then you've got to help me, by the love of freedom, you must!"

Adil looks pointedly at the Empire uniform being transported with her, leaving the question of why someone turning traitor would travel with such identifying items --only useful if they planned to use that past identity again.

They can not see much harm in admitting that their ship is no friend to the empire --dangerous as Tyde is, they outnumber her significantly-- but watch to see how they react to unspoken inquiry.

"I think we should help her," Resalon says to the others once he manages to overcome his initial reaction to the woman followed by awe and a frozen tongue. "If the captain went to such lengths to protect you, then we should surely provide you support."

He almost felt sorry for her. To be hated by everyone must be a lonely existence and he had the utmost respect for her dedication even though as yet there was probably much more to find out about the woman.

'if' Adil thinks, not sure yet that the captain was protecting her. 'Smuggling a crate' does not necessarily equate to 'protecting the contents'.

She follows Adil's pointed look at the uniform. "my uniform is in there, and a few supplies. The uniform could come in handy. I am a colonel, after all. Or was."

"I understand." Adil says placing just enough emphasis on the word to be noticed by the colonel if they recognised Adil from past meetings, but not by anyone without that knowledge.

"I am Adil." They say, to establish protocol and avoid the use of past names that could be embarrassing --and not relevant. "There are people on this ship who may not be happy with your presence. How should we address you to maintain your cover?" They ask acknowledging Resalon's statement as though it was always assumed to be true.

"Do you need our medic to look at you?" They ask, quirking an eye towards Cordell. "I am sure that..." they indicate the stasis pod, "can't have been comfortable. Then I am sure Camus can find you something less controversial to wear... unless you want to go back under."

They have many more questions, but want to get Areen's input when it comes to talk of where they are to go next.

"I'm in your hands. Call me Ceebee. These tattoos make me easily recognizable, so unless you've got a head wrap, or... "

She looks at Cordell. "An inspection is wise. Perhaps you have bandages, for these -- burns?"

Cordell grimaces a bit when she looks at him. The speed at which Adil and Resalon seemed to accept this person was kind of jarring. Honestly, it comes as a surprise to the doctor that he's the last hold out on whether or not they should help.

"Why were you in stasis?" He asks, instead of responding to her, his tone nearly robotic in its lack of emotion.

Before 'C.B.' (and somehow it bothered him that she decides to keep the 'butcher' part rather than 'C.T.') responds to his question, Cordell pushes on - his voice remains quiet, but an underlying layer of stress quickly begins to become evident in his demeanor. He still had the captain's blood on his hands and now he's expected to accept 'The Butcher' on board and that Captain Lauchmair was keeping a secret like this from them?

"Numenera aren't toys. Using ancient, barely-understood technology to literally untether your body from the flow of time isn't something you do just to save yourself the discomfort of living a few weeks as a stowaway. Now you're saying that you can shield your identity with bandages? You couldn't find any bandages at port, so temporal stasis was the next best thing?"

He looks between Adil and Resalon now, "You don't find anything weird about that?"

"I trust...trusted the captain implicitly. That's the difference between you and me I guess."

He bore no malice for Cordell. He was a man of science and as such should question things. But Resalon was a fighter and loyal to the captain, and would never even think about doubting the intentions of anything the captain had planned or already put into motion.

Cordell reeled back from Resalon's words like he'd hit him.

How - how could he imply Cordell didn't trust the captain? When he's the only one here not taking post-mortem testimony on what their captain supposedly wanted at face value? The doctor's eyes darkened to an even blacker pitch and there was the faint feeling of static in the air as the nanites reacted to the frustrated Nano's mood.

"Is that the difference between you and me?" Cordell asks bitterly, then turns back to the Butcher. "Fine, forget my first question. I've got a better one: what was our captain's name?"

It hadn't been lost on him that the woman had woken up and asked if one of them was the captain - that she hadn't said Captain Lauchmair's name even once in her story. All Camus had seen was the captain treating the body with respect - which was natural for any decent person to do. Where the captain's actual motives came into this plot were a complete mystery.

Adil reaches out a consoling hand to Cordell. I agree with you. They try to convey. But this is not the time to discuss 'trust'. Not in front of her.

"We will need to talk to our navigator." They say to Ceebee. "Camus, can you, quietly, fetch Areen. And then go to my bunk and gather whatever cosmetics you can find to cover the tattoos --surely we can do better than full face bandages to avoid attracting attention. Bad enough having someone appear on board mid-journey." They are thinking that they can work something with Areen to arrange a landing where they can 'pick up a lucrative passenger'.

"Wait." They say a moment later, apologetically fishing the captain's cabin key from his pocket. "Maybe make sure this is locked, and then 'misplace' the key? We don't want Dante setting up in there and doctoring the log, or finding what is in the hold." The captain's notes might also include details about what is going on.

Resalon ignores Cordell's question. Emotions were high with the death of the captain and now this new addition to the 'cargo' was surprising and unsettling. To argue further served no purpose especially since they were stuck on the ship together. For the rest of the conversation he reamins silent, and despite the ruckus Cebee's discovery has caused, he finds that he admires her.

When Adil mentions the next course of action, he nods in agreement.

Hearing her speak the captain's name doesn't relieve him as much as he thought it should - and he should probably take the time to examine why he felt so strongly about it. But, when Adil reached out a hand to him and said his name, the nano knew it was a request to calm down. To put the doubts he had away for now.

He forces himself back to neutral, the somewhat electric atmosphere in the hull becoming clear once again.

"I can go get Areen," Cordell suggests quietly, "or go to one of the rooms. It's dangerous to have just one person sneaking around."

He felt bad that Camus had to deal with any of this at all, when she was the one suffering the most from her brother's death. Leaving her to be the runner didn't seem fair. And, well, Areen knew the captain well - better than most of them - he thought maybe talking to her could give him some insight onto what the captain was thinking.

Adil looks at Cordell discerningly, then at 'Ceebee' to confirm they don't seem to need (or want) medical right now.

"Yes." They say gently, feeling this will help the nano cope with everything happening.

"We will still need something for our guest to wear." They observe, not wanting to comment on Cordell's fashion sense or ability to pick out a suitable outfit, they leave it up to him and Camus --who also seems like they could use a distraction and some distance from the body of the captain reminding her of the loss of body of her brother-- to divvy up the tasks.

"While you are welcome to any of my spares." They say to Ceebee. "I fear they are a bit... recognisable and we don't to draw attention if someone notices you are wearing other people's clothing." Camus is about the same size as the colonel, and has a good grasp of their inventory.

She looks at her clothes, or lack thereof, and sighs. "Want to slap me in irons until we get there? How long is that going to be anyway? It could be a year since I went in the bag."

Camus looks her over and says, "I've got something delicate and feminine that will fit you and hide everything but your head tats. Back in a second." She wanders purposefully to her bunk.

"Irons would just draw attention." Adil says, they don't get the impression anyone else here feels threatened enough to want that, but would hear them out if they did.

"I am sure we can alter or cover your tattoos." They say looking over Ceebee's features. "We don't want to rely on a hat." They joke. "We all know that will get blown off at the worst possible moment and reveal things best kept secret."

"Our navigator will know better how long it will take, once you tell them your destination." They say.

"What date do you think it is? When did you go in?" Adil asks, ready to calculate the difference from what the date is now.

"37 days." Adil says ruefully, not at all sure if that is a good or a bad number, or what Tyde was expecting.

"How pressing is your 'mission'?" They ask. "We need to deal with our captain's death," ...and what comes after. They don't add this last bit. "But we can work out with Areen how to get you where you need to be." There is a hint of a question in that: for if Ceebee wants to talk about where she is destined --or if she is just 'getting out'-- but there is little point till their navigator gets here.

"I'm afraid I can't be of any help with clothing, but it looks like Camus will be able to find you something suitable. I do have a question for you though. This destination that you are to be delivered to. Will it put the ship and crew in any danger? If so, we would want to be prepared, and even if not, any information you can share about it would be helpful to us."

Resalon knows this is a delicate situation and he is not confident that Dante will handle it correctly. This causes a small degree of anxiety in him which he hides well enough. As a fighter in the ring, his mentor had taught him never to telegraph your next move. This translated into an adeptness at keeping a confident posture and a blank expression. He employed those techniques now.

At that, Adil's ears perk up, but they also worry that their interest may have been shared by the captain, who may therefore not have been expecting payment for this job.

"Admirable." They nod. "But not everyone on this ship would care. What payment was expected at the end? Every bit we can do to mitigate some of the crews concerns and dissuade them from looking too closely --one doesn't ask too many questions when smuggling-- would be good."

"That will help." Adil nods. "Smooth things over."

With Camus retrieving clothes for their 'guest', Cordell decides to seek out Areen. He takes a moment to return to sick bay and wash his hands, the captain's body bag a heavy specter on his conscious.

Taking a breath, he headed back up to the ship's deck, and began looking around for their navigator.

When he finds her, he makes a somewhat subdued request to speak with her privately. "Something... complicated has happened. And, I don't know how to feel about it."

If he gets the chance to talk to her privately, he'll explain what occurred below-deck - particularly that Celia Tyde was apparently smuggled onboard by the late-captain, and that Adil, Resalon, and Camus have agreed to take on Lauchmair's mission themselves and deliver her where she needs to be. He doesn't mention if he'd agreed to do so too or not.

Cordell sees Areen's face become grimmer with every word he's saying. When they arrive, Areen grabs her weapon and enters. As casually-sarcastic as she can muster, she says: "Well, well, well, look what we have here. The great butcher, crawling on her knees in front of us, asking for help. Sure would be nice if you hadn't murdered a bunch of people who could be helping you right now, wouldn't it?".

She steps closer and continues, the shrapnel beneath her skin giving off an intense glow showing her anger:"The good doc here has informed me that you would like us to believe you're on our side now. You'll understand, I have my doubts about that. In fact, I'm starting to think that you're the reason the cragworm was on our ass, which makes you the reason the captain is dead." she makes a pause for everyone to grasp the situation.

"He was a good man, you know? But he wasn't infallible. This wouldn't be the first time he has trusted the wrong people.", Areen now turns to the rest of the crew: "I'm not keen on repeating the captain's mistake. If it were for me, I'd chuck her overboard and let her deal with whatever mess she has gotten herself into. It's not my decision, however. I'm certain I can lead her to wherever it is she wants to go, but the chances are high it's not anywhere we'd want to be and the captain is my priority."

Adil shares a look with Ceebee. This sort of reaction is going to be common, they seem to be saying. Best to let people process at their own pace. If they must know, and she must.

With the recent way Areen has been throwing around 'orders' and her commanding tone of voice, Adil worries she will clash with Dante over who is in charge. If it is to be one of those: rather the navigator; that way the ship-and-crew would stand a chance. But Adil is not convinced she has the conviction to take on such a challenge.

"We are not bound by the captain's secret contracts." Adil agrees. "But Samill would not 'put someone overboard'." They observe softly. "Well, not after offering them safe passage." They concede.

They sigh, steeling them themself for the words they don't want to admit. "The captain is dead. And not getting any deader. He would not rate his body --broken by his will, for us-- above his honour. If The Cragworm was after our passenger, he died for her." They observe, there is nothing she could have done --in stasis-- to stop him handing her over.

"If we are to do this." They say to all assembled. "It will take all of us. If we don't all agree, we can put her," --their tone and inflection reminding listeners that 'she' is a person, not a thing or a name-- "ashore and be done with it." There is iron in their voice, directed at Ceebee, reminding her she has no choice here.

"Personally: I am inclined to believe her --and the captain." They say, making it clear that this is a 'personal' choice. If those present have learned to trust Adil's judgement --as the captain did-- then this might have some weight, else they should all make up their own minds, decide and live with the choice.

Cordell waits a bit before following Areen down into the cargo hold, looking around to see if their actions had attracted any notice. The last thing they needed was for things to get more complicated, but Cordell had a sinking feeling that they would before long.

He just hears the end of Areen's statement, and all of Adil's.

It's a fair point, Cordell could admit. He personally took issue with the idea of tossing anyone overboard, but that certainly ran conflict to his discomfort with having anyone nicknamed 'The Butcher' on board the ship. Cordell always respected his captain - he, and Jolly, were the very reason the young doctor had gotten the courage to leave his home island, in search of ways to advance his practice.

But, perhaps Resalon was right and the nano was not as loyal to the captain as the others had been. Would Cordell have followed Lauchmair's orders against his own judgement? Usually, yes, but not when it came to compromising the oath he'd sworn when he first began learning medicine from his teacher. That, above everything else, was something he simply couldn't left go of. Did that make him less loyal than the others?

The thought had never crossed his mind that what the captain would have him do, and his oath as a healer would ever come into conflict.

"The technology she came in can preserve the captain's remains." Cordell says neutrally, directing the comment a bit at Areen. "It's also the best way to keep disease from spreading."

Areen shakes her head and laughs: "The captain didn't die for her, frankly that's an insult to all of us who were by his side. I don't know how you can trust her when all you have is some empty promises against this woman's past that is factually littered with mangled corpses. We don't even know if the captain didn't intend to bring her to justice and was only pretending to help. Or if he did trust her, why? I'm sure he wouldn't have endangered everyone on this ship if he didn't have some evidence for her telling the truth.

Either way, as the doc says, we need the crate for the captain. Do with her what you want, but I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her and the second she inevitably double-crosses us she'll have my polearm stuck in her chest faster than you can say: 'Oh what a surprise, the liar lied to us'.

Just tell me where we need to go and leave me alone." And with that, Areen throws a dirty look to Celia and walks out. Instead of back to her post she goes further into the ship.

Some time ago she had discovered a compartment, just big enough to hold one person, seemingly unknown to the rest of the crew. Sometimes when she was having a particularly bad day, she'd sneak down to clear her head. And today was, quite possibly, one of the worst days ever for her. She squeezes into the compartment and rests her head against the cool wood, trying to let go of the sick feeling to her stomach that even the mention of Celia's name causes.

"Uh. Sorry about that." Adil says to Ceebee. "You will need to wait for exact answers about how long the trip will take. We can hazard a guess and I will talk to her and finalise the details and set the route."

They sigh. "You may get a lot of that." They admit. "This is a stressful and emotional time, and trust is not in huge supply. We should keep you out of sight as much as possible, and hide your identity. Treat this as a normal --though, clandestine-- business transaction, so far as everyone else is concerned."

Adil worries that they made a mistake including Areen in the truth of this. But it is too late now, and they trust the navigator.

The navigator was allowing emotions to cloud her reasoning. At least that's what Resalon's read was on the current state of affairs. She was behaving like a petulant child when things weren't going their way, and it did nothing to help the situation. She did make an interesting point though, and it certainly was food for thought. What if the captain was taking Celia to justice and she was just quick and clever enough to manipulate the situation in her favor.

Picking up on Adil's uneasiness, he tried to send a look of empathy their way. There was no perfect solution to this problem the way Resalon saw it until they found out more about Celia and her destination. Her dangling the prospect of a good haul as a further enticement didn't sit well with him either.

Adil shares Resalon's look, and adds an almost-imperceptible shrug. We will have time to watch and work out the details as we sail.

They don't see why the captain would have kept secret a mission to bring 'The Butcher' to justice, nor why they would have kept her alive in that case, but it is always possible.

Up top, you can hear Dante barking orders, although what he's saying is too hard to hear over the rising wind.

He supposed that was that, then. It seemed Cordell and Areen were less inclined to trust this woman, but neither of them were likely to go to Dante with this information either. At this point it was just a matter of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The doctor lets out a soft breath, then goes to investigate the crate and collar contraption once again, looking to determine what was needed to activate it. If it was portable enough, he could take it over to the captain's body and begin the preservation process.

Up top he could hear Dante yelling, but he couldn't quite tell what was being said. The quartermaster hadn't come to speak with him, and Adil seemed distracted enough by their unexpected 'guest', so Cordell supposed all he could do was carry on as usual.

Cordell had known their captain was one of the biggest ties that held them together, but he would have never guessed that they would fall apart so quickly once he was gone. What had the captain been thinking to keep such a damning secret from the crew? Did he really not trust them - or did he honestly think ignorance would be enough to protect them? Either way, it left a sour feeling in his stomach.

It's really just a sack. A shimmery grey material, heavier than silk but less than canvas, with the collar that seals it closed. You could bunch it up and hide it under your shirt.

As Camus returns, she says that Dante has assumed command of the ship. He's giving orders and the ship is making for port, heading for Maellock, on the north side of the archipelago. It's his home, and more than a week ago. It's definitely taking you away from where you were wanting to go.

"Are we just going to stand around and let Dante control the ship and us?" Glancing at Celia he adds, "And then there's the matter of Celia. We should arrive at some kind of decision already. Do we trust her or not? And if so, the ship is going in the wrong direction."

Cordell will take the shimmery grey material and collar and take it back to the medical bay to utilize on the captain's remains, as a way of preserving his corpse and to store it safely.

At Resalon's outburst, the nano simply says, "I won't abide a mutiny. I don't really like Dante either, but he outranks us both. The only one with more seniority is Adil, isn't it?" The doctor shakes his head. "I don't trust CB, but it doesn't really make a difference. Any mission she could have arrived to as late as a year from now isn't exactly pressing. I'm more worried about making sure the ship is safe from The Flying Cragworm, repaired, and resupplied, than heading into an unknown danger."

"Fair enough," Resalon replies. He can't see anything wrong with Cordell's assessment.