At sea, 30 km southeast of Brockton Bay, NH
21 April 2011, 1800 hrs Lima (EST)
As Vivi maneuvered her hull closer to the submersibles, the hatch on the closest one opened up and a large man in a tight-fitting outfit came literally flying out of the open hatch to land on the deck of the Fog submarine.
"So, little girl," the man sneered, "I believe I would like to talk to your commanding officer."
The mental model ignored him for a moment. "Why is it that they think they can do this," she muttered, both audibly and over the concept comms.
Because you look like a young woman in a flimsy sundress, came back Arunta's exasperated reply,
and not a mental model of the Fog.
You know, as he's boarded without permission, Paula, the mental model commanding
Repulse added,
anything you do now is self defense.
"So, Mr. Poopyhead, you've boarded me
without permission, and have stated your intent to try to, by force or intimidation, dictate my actions." Vivi's mental model looked smug, and glowing rings appeared as she spun up extra processing power for combat. "Guess what?! Yer a
pirate, Harry!" And with that, she gestured, and used a pair of force fields like cymbals on him.
To the man's credit, he actually managed to keep from getting squished by the pair of force fields by dint of Parahuman strength. Still, Vivi had switched from "cymbals" to "vise" and was slowly ramping up the power, which was causing Leopard to work at it.
"That's pretty good," Vivi commented as she approached the straining villain. "But you forgot something."
"
Was?" the man ground out in his native German.
A hexagonal forcefield formed silently over the man's head. Vivi looked up at him, and gave him a nasty smirk. "I play dirty," she stated, and kneed him in the groin, hard.
While her foot did very little damage because of the man's Brute rating, her foot and Sir Isaac Newton collaborated to lift him off the deck with enough force that he struck the overhead field
hard. Just to add insult to injury, she opened the deck hatch under the pirate nazi as he came down. The man was a close fit, but that just meant Leopard couldn't get any leverage to use his strength.
"Since you're a
pirate and all," she explained with a smirk, "I'm completely within my rights to shoot you in the head and dump your body overboard for the ocean to deal with," she said, punctuating her words with the hum of the ejector mechanism of the launch tube charging more than enough to toss him dozens of feet into the air.
Vivi, came Repulse's voice across the concept comms,
Captain Jones would like the man alive.
Oh, I know, she replied.
I really don't want to kill him, cleaning blood is worse than seaweed.
Leopard regained his senses with a start and discovered he was now snugly fitted into the launch tube.
"Hello again," the girl's lightly accented voice called to him. "Since I really don't want to kill you – cleaning the blood off of my decks is a lot of work – I've decided I'm going to throw you overboard.
How I throw you overboard depends on how you behave."
The Cape could now hear the launch systems in the tube charging up.
"Now, if you're going to curse at me and be rather rude," she stated calmly, "I may use the launch tube to blast you off at roughly thirty gees acceleration. Which, if you were a normal human, would telescope your spine. Since you're not a normal human, you still might black out, land in the water, and drown.
"If you behave," she continued, smiling brightly, "I'll hoist you out and hand you over to those nice gents from the US Navy. What do you say?"
Herr Leopard grumbled something vaguely obscene, in the hopes that her hearing was only normal.
"How rude! Why I never," the mental model ranted indignantly. "Right, you can have fun with the fishes." With a deep thunk the platform he'd been standing on launched him into the air, though far slower than the thirty gees of acceleration she'd implied. However, something behind him swatted him hard enough to skip him across the water like a stone and impact the hull of
Arunta with sufficient force to knock him out.
I got 'im, Vivi, Arunta sent back across the concept comms.
He's unconscious, I'll hold him for the authorities.
Affirmative, Arunta. Vivi giggled across the concept comms.
After that display I think his teammates have decided to play nice. A video window opened in their virtual space, displaying the white flag waving out the hatch of the submersible.
//\\//\\//\\
Captain Stark weighed his options very carefully. He'd watched the
Gearing class destroyer close to under one thousand meters, and then just hold station there. He did notice that all three of the turrets had been brought to bear on his ship, but so far nothing had happened.
"We should cooperate," Andrea said. "At the worst the ship will be seized, and we get barred from entering the US for a number of years."
"Like that's stopped us before," he ground out as he watched Leopard get humiliated by what appeared to be a young girl in a flimsy sundress and hat, but who had to be some sort of parahuman.
Andrea nodded. "We currently have outstanding immigration complaints in the US, Canada, Mexico, and the Bahamas." She leaned back in her chair, and gave him a smirk. "We've also had three ships seized, and caused quite a stir getting them back. I'm surprised that the US Navy hasn't tasked a
Los Angeles class attack sub into hunting us down and sinking us."
"No, they couldn't if they wanted to, unless I'm stupid enough to open fire with the weapons on board…" Something happening on the deck caught his attention. "Andrea, are we carrying any idiot balls in the hold?"
"Idiot balls? Not that I'm…" The girl joined him at the bridge window. "
Gott in Himmel, what is that idiot doing?"
"Getting us sunk!" Jordan Stark grabbed his hand cannon from the bridge locker and proceeded down the ladder, cursing as only an angry sailor can.
Then came the distinctive roar of a missile launch, and things got rather hectic.
- - - - - - - - - -
The tinkertech missile hadn't made it more than halfway before a wall of water appeared in front of it nearly as long as the
Bonhomme Richard, several meters thick, and reinforced by Lt. Davy Jones' hydrokinesis. From other points on the ship the hulking, smoke-wreathed form of Blackbeard watched carefully, and Wall watched from another position, ready to add her powers to the effort.
Fortunately the wall of water was enough to detonate the missile and absorb the force of the blast.
"Bridge," he ordered, "bring us in close, signal
Kormorant 'Heave to and prepare to be boarded.' Boarding party to your stations!" Underneath his feet he could feel the engines build up RPMs and make that into forward motion. Screws biting into the water, the
Bonhomme Richard nimbly came about and headed toward the erstwhile merchantman while it appeared to be having a bit of mutiny going on.
- - - - - - - - - -
Jordan Stark would be the first to admit that he was more of a thinking captain than a fighting captain. As many had found out over the years, that didn't mean he was incapable of fighting, that he preferred not to. The sailor who had pulled out the small Tinkertech anti-shipping missile was therefore currently taking cover from him in one of the gun positions.
"Captain," came Andrea's voice from behind, "we might have a small problem."
As he turned to look at Andrea, he caught motion from the destroyer, which was getting closer. One of the crew who was more loyal to Gesellschaft than to staying alive was manhandling Andrea, and he had several others with him. "So, it's mutiny, then?"
"You were paid to do a job," the man snarled at him. "We are here to make sure you complete it." With a very deliberate action he cocked the hammer on the pistol he had pointed at Andrea's right temple.
"The job was a simple smuggling job," was Stark's reply, "not getting into gun duels with cruisers and destroyers. Which, I might add, is suicidal this close to the US." His eyes narrowed as he saw a nearly transparent hexagon appear between the muzzle of the pistol and Andrea's head.
The situation was resolved by the arrival of the first of the Privateers. Captain Jones landed forcefully from his leap, and with a smooth, practiced motion, laid about with the stun baton. The second arrival was a rather butch looking young woman dressed in khaki shorts and a shirt. She wasted no time, removing the mutineer's options as she removed the gun from his hand at the wrist with a knife made out of flat hexagonal crystals.
The attempted mutiny was soon over, and the rest of the crew of the
Bonhomme Richard were approaching. The cat-man was the next to arrive, using his powers. "Matters appear to be well in hand," he commented, smirking.
"Indeed. Sorry for the interruption of your mutiny, captain," Captain Jones said, offering his hand, "but this is business."
Jordan Stark took the man's hand, and gave it a shake. "I wish this could be under better circumstances, I'm afraid." With that, he pulled out his pistol, reversed his grip, and handed it to Captain Jones. "I surrender my vessel," he stated, "and request assistance for my crew. It's possible I've got injured aboard." He turned to the young woman in the khaki shorts. "And you are?"
"Name's Electra," she growled out. "In command of the destroyer
Electra. Pleased t'meetcha." The woman's voice was rather coarse, with an accent that spoke of a rough and tumble life. "My boss is takin' care of the blighters that were tryin' ta sneak in, and my orders are to assist here."
There was a bit of commotion as the boarding party of sailors and marines from the
Bonhomme Richard arrived, along with medical personnel. The first person attended to was the mutineer missing a hand. Andrea was checked over next.
"I can help them with the search for the others," she offered. "At the very least, I can tell them who's missing. And maybe keep them from shooting at the marines."
"Please do," Calico Jack said from where he was lounging against the wall. "It irritates them mightily when someone does that."
Andrea chuckled politely into her hand. "I like you, you're silly."
- - - - - - - - - -
Resistance from the remaining crew members was short lived after that. Crew whose loyalty lay with their captain, including his executive officer, had locked themselves into the magazine of the ship, keeping the Gesellschaft crew from utilizing the heavy weapons aboard against any of the ships who were now too close to do anything but repel boarders.
Soon, all the injured sailors and marines – there had been a few short and brutal scuffles in close quarters – were on the
Kormorant's deck, a few awnings having been put up for shelter. The Gesellschaft sympathizers were under guard, awaiting a Guild transport.
"I'm afraid we will have to take you in tow," Captain Jones was explaining to his counterpart. "However, your cooperation with us will likely keep anything too severe from happening."
"I understand," Stark replied, leaning over the deck rail to look landward at the setting sun. "Who should we bill the repairs to? I've got some damage below decks."
"I'd tell you to charge your employer," Jones answered. "However, we're likely to repair the damage off the books. I've got a bunch of bored enlisted ratings who need something to do."
"Good evening, gentlemen," a new voice cut in. "I'm Captain Paula Windsor, in command of HMS
Repulse."
Captain Jones tipped his hat in a polite fashion to her. "Ma'am."
Jordan Stark did likewise. "So, not the real HMS
Repulse?"
"Oh, the ship is real enough, but comparing the original and my ship is like comparing the original Wright flier and the space shuttle," Paula answered, with a slight smile. "I was informed someone needed to be towed in?"
"I'd appreciate it," Jordan replied. "
Verdammte Meuterer did some damage in the engineering spaces, and my engineer has some serious doubts about how safe things are below decks."
"I'll get
Leander on it, then." The mental model turned to Captain Jones. "
Hermes has a Guild transport landing. Too large a craft to land here, but one of your helicopters is bringing them over. I've also had to firmly remind
Hermes' captain that she can't just take one from you, or simply disassemble one, either." The mental model hid a polite chuckle in her hand.
Jones chuckled at that. "I've seen your VTOLs, I'm impressed, but they're a bit too big for landing on smaller ships. As it is, my engineer would love to get a look at one of your ships."
Paula looked mock offended. "At least he could wait until we've gotten to know each other a bit better!" At the slightly confused looks she got, she sighed. "Still haven't gotten the hang of humor yet, I see. One of the older mental models had a crush on a JMSDF captain, and had been recorded as stating that he could see her engines, if he wanted. She did so while blushing coyly."
"So you're not human or Parahuman?" asked Stark, only getting further and further confused.
"Never claimed to be," was Paula's response. "I find working with people more fascinating than shooting at them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a couple of matters to take care of."
With that, she simply jumped over the rail and jogged away across the water, little hexagonal plates appearing and disappearing as needed.
Stark shook his head. "The world gets stranger every day."
"As a local might say," observed Jones, "welcome to just another day in Brockton Bay."
