INTERLUDE 5 - START!!

One of the things which separated independent vessels from registered and licensed army vessels, be they Nepleslian, Yamataian, Iroma or even NMX is the fact that each of them have a support net under them. If something goes wrong, there's an excellent chance someone is there to catch you. Not quite the case with an Independently manned vessel, since at best you had some shaky favours, good intentions and dumb luck.

Furthermore, a lot of things were missing in Independent ships. In an army, you had weapons, armour and a spiffy looking uniform provided free of charge, and possibly retirement and dental plans. On an independent vessel, the closest thing to a dental plan will involve a sledgehammer. Chances were that the sledgehammer was yours, too.

Second, if you had a complaint with the behaviour of certain members the crew, you could take it up with a human relations consultant and he'd get something done, maybe tell the bugger off and fine him or put him on probation. In an independent vessel, you'd pay tickets to watch people 'settle their differences' like civilised gentlemen/women/its.

Finally, you were expected to wear your uniform proper or face scolding. Whereas on the ISC Crimson Kestrel, home to the crew of the ISC Phoenix, it was a very, very different story.

-

It'd been only a couple of minutes since the crew had successfully retaken the Lady of the Night, belonging to Enzo Bortelli, resident miscreant, rogue and all around loveable do-badder. The crew had decided to take some form of rest after this brain-heavy mission.

"Hey pops," The captain told his father as he walked over to the kitchen on the second deck of the Kestrel and got himself something to eat, idly assembling a salami sandwich.
"Hey so-whoa," Sebastian walked past the kitchen, and decided to keep walking. Luca walked out and went the opposite direction, snacking on the sandwich in hand.
"Hey John," Luca said as John walked past, who stopped dead in his tracks, did a double take and continued walking.

"G'day Mel," Luca mimicked a Delsaurian accent as best as he could.
She was sitting in the lounge watching something on the TV and turned around, "G'day b-WAH," She turned the other way with a blush on her face, "Cripes, boss."
Luca continued on unperturbed and sat down on the couch to Melissa's left, leaned over and grabbed the remote, switching the show to some kids cartoons, then flicking over to a re-run of Dave the Marine III, then over to something that caught the captain's interests.

"Are you feeling deprived of energy? Do you need a fix in a hurry? You need THRUST! Thrust will deliver electrolytes and Protein! Now in MANLY flavour!" The ad then continued in a de-soto voice, "Warning, drinking too much of this will make you become morbidly obese, if that happens to you get a body transfer 'cos we aren't taking responsibility for it."

"Wot are you pondering?" Melissa asked, trying not to make direct eye contact with the captain.
"I have an idea. Call the others. I'd like to discuss this idea with them," Luca decided to tautologise as he finished his salami sandwich and crossed his legs on the couch.

"Yeah, I'll do that, but there's a slight problem, y'see?" Melissa said, finally making direct eye contact with the captain, "Y' can't conduct meetings arse naked!"
Luca looked down at himself, hairy chested, hairy armed, hairy legged, lightly athletically toned and naked as the day he was born, then looked up tilted his head at Melissa with a sidelong grin, "Are you questioning my logic?"
"No shit! Do I sound like I'm discussin' Yamataian Philosophy?!" She stood up and stomped off for a moment before returning with a pair of heart print boxers and threw them at the Captain, getting him in the face, "Put 'em on or yer idea gets unloved."

Luca sighed, "Fine..." He stood up, turned around and put them on, then sat back down, putting his arms over his head in a stretch, cracking his neck then cracking his knuckles.

A certain young engineer was found to be slinking around the kitchen (thankfully) soon after Luca put on some garments. Seiren had spent the last Ketsurui-knows-how-long time working on his shiny new LEAF, modifiying it and learning how to pilot it. How he avoided getting wrapped up in the conflict of the previous chapter is anybody's guess. But other than the piloting, he made more candy - particularly chocolates, which is why he was in the kitchen now. The grease-covered inventor peered into the oven, grinning a grinful grin as he grabbed a glove and pulled the sheet out.

"A-hah! They're done!" He cheered, setting them out on the counter to cool. They were molten hot, and wouldn't be suitable for eating for at least a few hours.

Robert, after realizing he couldn't sleep, walked into the kitchen shortly after Seiren proclaimed them done. He looked over the young inventor's shoulder. "Uhhhh looks kinda hot Seiren." he said as he reached for the tray with one dirty, greasy cybernetic arm. "You sure they done?"

"Well, of course they're not DONE done. They need to cool!" Seiren chided, slapping the hand away. "No chocolate for you!"

"Candy hog." Robert replied with a good-natured horn on his face. "So how are those modifications going on your LEAF?" he asked after a moment of watching the cooling chocolate.

"Well, I got the extra generator secured and powering the weapons, while the main generator powers movement and stuff. The extra generator is also covered and protected by that plate! And I put a bunch of cool stickers on it too!" Seiren told Robert excitedly, childish glee showing in abundance.

"Really? So you're a billboard now huh?" Robert laughed. He sat down at the table and spread his hands back behind his chair.

In the time Uriel had left the commons, picked up a notebook and pen from his room, and returned Luca had managed to startle a quarter of the crew with his antics. The Patrician would be no less unsettled and Luca was in his boxers at the time.

Upon entering the room he froze. His surprise turned into a stern glare. "Captain, would you care to explain why you've decided to display yourself in such a manner in such a public position?" It was evident the Angel was none too pleased with this turn of events.

For the first time in what seemed like decades, Enzo was emerging from his own home freshly cleaned and shaven. The Lady of the Night was placed on the outer edge of the hangar, it's cargo door open to the ship's interior. Enzo stretched as he walked through the threshold, careful not to spill a cup of whiskey he'd poured moments earlier.

Another first since their last visit to Nepleslia Prime, when he was fresh from the escape pod, was that Enzo had left his well-worn duster behind, switching out for a simple sweater and a pair of black slacks. His revolver still hung ominously at his hip, as it always did. The smuggler stretched one more time and trudged on into the corridors of the Kestrel, sipping his whiskey along the way, signature trail of smoke lingering behind him.

Eventually, he found himself in the commons area, passing by a flustered Melissa on her way out. He stopped to say something nice to her, but decided against it as memories of her rifle pointed directly at him filled his head. Then, there was the anger. Why did everybody have to let bygones be bygones? Were they operating on his terms, Enzo would've stuffed Beau out the airlock and felt just fine doing it.

Spying Luca on the couch, Enzo didn't hesitate to plop down next to him.

He didn't savor that moment at all. In hindsight, he wondered something along the line of 'Why did I even do that?'. Too late though. Smith's business shoes brought his business dressed self through the commons area. The Origin Rep didn't pay any attention to the people there though, and instead thoughtlessly grabbed himself a bottle of water from the bar fridge. An why didn't he enjoy, even relish the moment? Smith thought back as he took a seat at a nearby chair, bringing the drink to his chapped lips. 'Last time I got back at one, I didn't enjoy it either.' the young man recalled.

Then and now, he didn't understand why.