Mission: Improbable

[Admiral Hart]

Hart was once more on the bridge when Plunder's Heart glided into docking with the Cove, a large, ugly space station built into an equally large asteroid. It was a haven for scum and n'eredowells and outlaws and pirates. No one was quite sure who led it, but the modest police force in the streets certainly got their pay from somewhere.

"We have now docked with the cull. Prepare for the mission, guys and gals. We have a Socialite to smuggle."

[Dr. Andromeda Reyes]

Andromeda squirmed in place as Jane shuffled this way and that, "working her magic."

The shameless pilot had produced a dress for her to wear that she was still goggling somewhat over. It was a tiny black sequined cocktail dress, which tied around the neck for a halter-style top. The skirt barely brushed the tops of her thighs, the sides cut out in diamond shapes that wrapped around the front and bared the upper part of her ribs just beneath her breasts. It was also completely backless, just managing to cover the top of her rear and tying around her bare shoulderblades with a bit of string as well. Jane had put her in a pair of moderately high-heeled, black sling-back shoes, then vengefully ripped out all of her hair pins and scattered them across the room, ignoring her yelp of protest.

She'd brushed and teased the thick inky black mane until it floated around her face and shoulders and part-way down her back in a sultry cloud. And now Jane was busy typing out specifications for Cassi's make-up box. All of Andromeda's attempts to put in an opinion were stoutly ignored. A moment later the smaller female pulled the device away and grinned triumphantly.

"Oh I am so hot for you right now, doc," she gushed excitedly. Andromeda just rolled her eyes, then groaned when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She looked like one of Aphrodite's girls. Her golden eyes were surrounded in smokey shades of coal, her rich copper cheeks enhanced with just a touch of red, and her lips painted a dark, glossy mauve. Andromeda's cheeks grew darker with a real blush, scowling at Jane's crowing reflection in the mirror.

"Are you trying to get me raped?" she demanded. "If I look like a whore, he's going to treat me like one."

"Well sex is the best distraction," was Jane's lofty response. "And besides, no offense doc, but the lay would probably do you some good."

Andromeda could only gape, completely flabbergasted. Jane just sighed, tugging on her arm.

"Well let's go meet the Captain. His hotness wants to check you out first and make sure my work is up to par." The pilot snorted to herself at such a ridiculous notion before tightening her hold and pulling a much taller Andromeda out of the room and off down the hall behind her.

Andromeda wobbled a little unsteadily, unused to wearing heels. Not to mention this sort of outfit. She felt so . . . exposed. Face burning, she had to resist the urge to tug at the hem of the skirt to try and pull it down lower as the two women passed by various crew members. All of which stopped dead in their tracks and gaped, stunned at the sexy vision their prim and straight-nosed doctor had become.

They entered the assembly room and Captain Hart turned from where he'd been speaking to the First Mate--who appeared damp, as if he'd just come from a shower. Hart grinned appreciatively, while Halcyon's eyes near popped out of his skull, jaw dropping wide in shock.

"Ah?" Jane demanded, grin wide and shameless, motioning to a still-furiously-blushing Andromeda. She suddenly felt like a hunk of meat, or a puppy on display. Especially when the Captain suddenly folded one arm over his chest, rubbing his chin with the other, blue eyes narrowed speculatively.

"Turn around," he suddenly demanded. Andromeda only hesitated a moment before she slowly turned a complete circle. His pale eyes watched her intently. "Again." Her brow furrowed, confused, but she didn't argue, turning around again. The Captain "hmm'ed" to himself, seemingly deep in delliberation, then, "maybe jump up and down a few times."

Andromeda whirled back to him, her eyes narrowed into furious slits. "Go to hell, sir," she snapped, mortified and furious all at once. Hart just laughed good-naturedly.

"Can't blame a man for trying. Eh, Morg?" The Captain glanced at his First Mate, then blinked when he discovered the black man still staring open-mouthed, with the same expression of shock on his face. "Morg. Morgan. I think you're drooling." When that still didn't get a response, the Captain turned back to Andromeda and chuckled. "After your part in our heist, you might want to hurry back and see to our First Mate, here, Andi. I think he's dislocated his jaw."

Morgan finally managed to snap out of it at that, turning an interesting shade of ruddy beneath his dark skin. He shot a faintly wounded glare in a completely unrepentant Hart's direction before turning on his heel and stomping back out of the room.

[Admiral Hart]

"T.K." Hart said upon entering Engineering. The Chief Engineer was pouring over something on a nearby console.

"Watcha need, boss?" He asked, not lifting his eyes.

"How's about you go along with Dane and make sure Thorn's ship is...less able to pursue us after we abscond with its cargo?" The Captain asked. T.K. grinned.

"Figured you'd ask me to do something like that. I'm already preparing."

"I gathered you would be. I'll tell Dane to drop by before he leaves." Hart smirked as he left that section of the ship. This was going to be a fun mission.

[Dane]

Dane was in the hangar, standing on the side of her left leg, gently banging his head against the metal appendage, he was grumbling to himself while a open bottle of rum sat nearby on a crate. Elsa sat near the bottle and shook her head, the sprite was now wearing a red long sleeved top that cut off just before her stomach black capri style pants to match the 'pirate' motif. The AI sprite just sighed as she watched Dane took a small swig of the volatile chemical and set it back down.

"What. The. Fuck. Am. I. Going. To. Do." with each pause he banged his head against the leg, causing a faint 'ping' sound upon impact. Elsa just rolled her eyes at him.

"Your gonna give yourself brain damage, and mess up my new paint job you big ape." he stopped banging his head for a moment to give the sprite a amused smirk before looking up at his Battle suit. Elsa was now the same shade of red the 'Plunders Heart' is, same gold trim, and instead of his wing's insignia, now the jolly roger was painted in its place. He smirked at the sprite and shook his head.

"You did a good job girl." she preened under his approval, he sighed and picked up the bottle, not drinking from it but just holding it while he paced. A good ten minutes later he growled out shook his head vigorously. "Fuck it, I'll do what I always do." Elsa just shook her head again, knowing what he meant by that. Dane grinned as he plugged the bottle up, he waved goodbye to Elsa before heading off to prep his team.

***

Fifteen minutes later, he sat in the middle of his team the 7 of them encircling him while he spoke. When he was finished they all sighed.

"Dane do you even plan this stuff out?" T.K. said with a unamused huff.

"What's this 'plan' you speak off? You know I just wing shit. Planning would require well thought out processes that could go wrong at a moments notice. If I just make it up as I go along, but still complete the mission, then all according to plan." T.K. glared at him a moment before shaking his head. Dane returned the glare. "You got any better ideas?"

"Actually--" Dane cut him off.

"Can it, my mission, my way." he clapped his hands together and grinned wide. "Anything else?" Cooper raised his hand, Dane nodded in his direction, eyebrow lifted.

"What about the 6'4 amazon that's more than likely gonna try to kill us? Or more to the point, cause alot of bodily harm that I'd like to avoid." Dane's grin near reached his ears as he held up the bottle of Rum, dangling it between two fingers.

"I've got a few ideas, leave her to me. Me and Lyra have meet on more than one occasion, I owe her one."

[Dr. Andromeda Reyes]

Andromeda did her ultimate best to act natural and unperturbed as she was forced to walk the length of the docking area all the way to the Treasure Trove by herself, while dressed like a high-paid slut. Despite the thieves, cutthroats, pirates and other sorts of scoundrels that surrounded her, amazingly no one tried to stop her or accost her in any way. They still stared after her though, and wolf-whistled and cat-called a lot, which she wasn't in any way used to. It made sure the blush never quite left her cheeks through the whole trek.

And then she had arrived at the tavern-like establishment that the Captain had directed her to. Hart seemed confident that Thorn Scarsgard would be inside. Her job was to make sure he stayed there until someone from the crew arrived to let her know that the mission was completed. Then she was to make an excuse to go to the ladies room or something similar, and then slip out with Thorn never the wiser. Andromeda hesitated in front of the door, taking another deep breath, resisting the urge to run her clammy hands down the front of her dress again but just barely.

Then she stepped forward and pushed through the swinging doors. The Treasure Trove was probably one of the nicer places on the Cove though—given the level of squalor that clung to this place—that wasn't exactly saying much. It was clean, at least, and fairly well-ordered, only the occasional sign of a bar-room brawl scarring the floor and walls, some of the furniture obviously newer than the rest.

Andromeda scanned the room, looking for her target. The Captain had said she would definitely know him when she saw him. "He's probably one of the biggest men you'll ever see," he'd pronounced with a snort, "and his hair tends to stick out like a sore thumb."

She didn't see anyone with that sort of description, however. The twenty or so men and women inside all looked like rather average scoundrels to her. Andromeda fought down her rising surge of panic. What if she was too late, and he'd already come and gone? She'd screwed everything up!

Andromeda tensed, however, when the door to the back room suddenly swung open. A rather portly man dressed in an apron stepped out, chuckling. And what followed him out made her eyes slowly round to the size of saucers.

Oh . . . my God.

Yes. Hart had been correct in one thing at least. There was definitely no mistaking Captain Thorn Scarsgard.

The man had to stand at least six and a half feet tall, maybe bigger--forced to duck a little to clear the doorframe he'd just passed through. And the man was simply massive besides, with an impossibly broad set of shoulders, barrel-wide chest and back, an impressively lean waist and hips and long, powerful legs. All shown off expertly in the finely made, tailored clothes that he wore. A dark blue crushed velvet jacket very reminiscent of Captain Hart's—though his had a few less frills and embellishments—a silvery tunic on underneath it and a pair of snug-fitting black leather pants tucked into knee-high black, low-heeled boots. He also wore a well-worn gun slung low on one side, strapped around his muscled thigh, and an absolutely wicked-looking, barbed sword hilt jutted out on the other side.

Andromeda struggled to recover from her shock as the pirate Captain hesitated near the door, speaking a few more words to what appeared to be the owner of this bar. Her breathing had become somewhat irregular, her skin flushing hot with what was undoubtedly feminine awareness. They had told her he was big. They had told her he was dangerous. They had told her he was very smart, very crafty and very, very good at his job.

Nobody had bothered to tell her he was almost heart-numbingly attractive.

All the skin that showed was surprisingly dark-tanned, which made for more than an interesting contrast to his almost snow-white platinum hair, which fell down his back near to his waist in a neat braid held in place by a silver clasp of some sort at the tips. From this distance she could tell that his eyes were a pale shade—perhaps blue—and he had a medium-sized silver hoop piercing through the lobe of his left ear.

Andromeda struggled to snap herself out of her ogling as Scarsgard finished his conversation and then turned in her direction, heading for the door. He got no more than a few feet before suddenly noticing her, and hesitating. The smirk on his handsome face fell a little, eyes widening slightly with his own expression of stunned disbelief. Andromeda tensed.

It was now or never.

Not knowing what else to do, she settled for walking closer to him, doing her best to effect what she hoped was a sexy walk. She wasn’t sure if she was pulling it off entirely well, but she managed to keep Scarsgard’s whole and undivided attention. As she neared, it was to discover that his eyes were a shade of blue, but rather a soft, wintery silver-blue rather than Hart’s bright, crystal clear shade.

She had almost reached him when the large man seemed to shake free of his shock and grinned. An entirely male, predatory type of grin that made something in her shiver from sheer, feminine anticipation. Of what, exactly, remained to be seen. This was certainly an unexpected hiccup in the plan. She was supposed to be distracting Scarsgard, not the other way around.

“Well hello there, beautiful,” he murmured, in a deep voice lightly laced with an accent she couldn’t quite place. Not exactly British, not exactly Germanic or Russian, but something in between. To say that it was sexy was a vast understatement. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you on this hunk of space station before.”

A woman who knew how to be flirtatious would’ve probably smiled and simpered and fluttered something back at him that was both coy and seductive. Andromeda merely blinked.

“It’s a rather large space station, sir, I doubt you’d know even half of the bilge rats crawling through every nook and cranny.” She inwardly blanched afterward, cursing herself for an idiot. However Scarsgard merely chuckled, a faint note of appreciation lighting his pale eyes.

His stance widened a little, taking on a more relaxed and lazy pose before he sighed. “While in most cases that would be true, I doubt very highly that someone looking as gorgeous as you goes unnoticed for very long at all, dearling.” Andromeda felt her face heat from the blatant compliments, struggling to appear as if they were a daily occurrence and probably failing miserably. He chuckled a little at her blush, then, “what’s your name?”

“And—Andi,” she quickly corrected, before she accidentally blurted out her real name. She cleared her throat, pretending to cough to try and cover it up. Then, “Andi Hartman,” she continued, blurting out the first last-name that came to mind. Then she winced, hoping she hadn’t just given herself away. He didn’t seem fazed much however, nodding in acceptance.

“Andi, eh. I would have pegged you for something a little more lofty.” Then he seemed to shrug before grinning again. “I trust you know who I am.” Unable to help herself in the face of his cocky attitude, she snorted slightly and crossed her arms.

“Do you?” she sneered back instead. “Awfully pretentious of you.” Instead of annoy him, her dry sarcasm seemed to please him even more.

“My name is Thorn Scarsgard,” he pronounced, then, “Captain Scarsgard,” he embellished, “of the Mjollnir.”

Andromeda’s eyebrow quirked. “Should I be impressed, now?”

Her brief stab of confidence disappeared when he suddenly grinned then, an entirely hot, wicked sort that promised all sorts of things that her virgin self couldn’t even come close to contemplating. “Not yet, dearling,” he growled, “but soon, if I’m very lucky.”

Andromeda cursed as she felt herself go all hot and blushy again. The pirate glanced at the clock to the side, and seemed to be weighing something out in his mind. Before Andromeda had a chance to try and think of something to make him stay, however, he turned back to her with another one of those sexy smiles.

“Have you eaten yet, Andi?” She managed to shake her head and he suddenly held out one of his arms. “Join me then, and we’ll discuss this in a bit more detail.”

Andromeda breathed a heavy sigh of relief, stepping forward with what she prayed was an appropriately flirty smile, hooking her hand in the crook of his massive elbow. Inwardly she blanched as he turned and began leading her toward one of the more private tables of the bar. She was a tall woman, and the top of her head didn’t even come near his chin. If he somehow found out what she was about, he could probably break her in half with his bare hands. Let alone the gun and sword he had strapped to his person on proud display.

Andromeda murmured her thanks when he politely pulled out her chair, and then gulped a little when he pushed it closer to the table without the faintest hint of strain. And then he was sitting down in the chair next to hers rather than across from her. A small boy ran forward immediately then, hobbling slightly with a limp, asking what they would like. The boy—no older than twelve she would guess—showed obvious deference and respect and perhaps even a bit of hero worship to the massive, infamous pirate captain and then her, by association no doubt. Andromeda was slightly surprised with how gently Scarsgard spoke to the child, even going so far as to reach out to ruffle his mass of black curls before sending him off with a few coins to fetch their meal.

Suave and charismatic. Utterly shameless. Kind to children. Suddenly Thorn Scarsgard reminded her a lot of Jonah Hart.

Thorn turned his attention back to her with another one of those devastating smiles of his, and it was then that Andromeda realized what had been bothering her about his hair. His roots were a faint but noticeable pale blue, slowly fading to white-blonde after about a half an inch. She blinked, stunned to realize that—not only was he a powerful Pirate—he was also a Magi. She gulped a little, suddenly wondering what his powers were, and if Captain Hart had known about them. No one had mentioned to her that he was a Magi, and that seemed like a piece of rather crucial information.

“So tell me about yourself, Andi,” he demanded then, tenting his hands over the table, looking for all the world to be relaxed and at ease. Yet Andromeda didn’t miss the way he kept his chair carefully angled so that—if need be—he could leap to his feet and have an unimpeded path to the door at a moment’s notice.

She shrugged at the question, staring down at the table where she fiddled with the place setting. “Nothing much to tell, I’m afraid,” she lied somewhat airily. He scoffed.

“Oh I highly doubt that, dearling. Those legs alone have a story to tell,” he growled, glancing down at the bared expanse of her slender calf and thigh, making Andromeda blush again and have to fight the urge to try and cover herself up with something. “You’re beautiful, but you’re also very smart,” he mused, staring at her face intently now. Andromeda did her best not to squirm guiltily. “You’re dressed to kill, but you don’t look at all comfortable in it. Probably not wearing that dress by choice. You’re comfortable among thieves and pirates, but you definitely don’t like their company. Probably forced among them by circumstances against your control.”

Andromeda didn’t dare breathe. Hart wasn’t kidding when he said that Thorn wasn’t a man to be underestimated. She fought to try and salvage the mess this was making, her eyes wide.

“I . . . I—,” He suddenly cut her off with a slight shake of his head. Andromeda tensed when he suddenly reached over, his fingers glancing a caress across the curve of her cheek and jaw.

She shivered, as they seemed somewhat unnaturally cold.

“Keep your secrets, dearling, if it suits you,” he murmured softly. Andromeda could only stare at him, almost mesmerized by that pale, wintery stare while his fingers suddenly sifted back into her thick hair. “I, too, have learned their value in this life.”

Andromeda gasped a little when he suddenly leaned toward her. Oh God, he’s going to kiss me. Oh God. Oh God. I don’t think I’m gonna stop him either. Oh my God.

Her whole body went languid against her will, her eyes half-shuttering in anticipation of what was no doubt going to be the mother of all kisses. She had only ever been kissed by Harold Windermere when she was fifteen, and the experience hadn’t been anything to write home about. She doubted very seriously if Thorn Scarsgard would suffer from the same hang-ups.

But then, just before his lips would have closed over hers, someone suddenly burst loudly into the tavern. Thorn released her and whirled in a blink, one hand closing onto the hilt of his sword. Andromeda just blinked, somewhat thrown out of sorts while an obviously roughed up, bloodied man scanned the crowd, saw Thorn and then started running in their direction.

Andromeda felt her whole body go icy cold. Oh no . . . .

“Captain! Captain, you gotta come quick! We just got ambushed! They got the woman, and they’re getting away! I think it was Hart’s crew!”

Thorn suddenly whirled back to her, his winter-frost eyes suddenly narrowed into suspicious, furious slits. And Andromeda was no doubt looking extremely pale-faced and guilty. She gasped as the temperature around them suddenly dropped by a good fifteen degrees, her breath suddenly puffing out in rapid gouts of steam.

Thorn let out a low growl, then shot to his feet, pulling his sword. Andromeda jerked with the motion, widened eyes staring at the wicked, machete-style blade that was carved to look as sharp, pointy and intimidating as possible. It’s faint reddish sheen also gave away the fact that it was made out of Aerantium, Martian Steel. One of the strongest and deadliest metals in the galaxy.

Andromeda feared the worst, but the now-furious pirate didn’t turn and gut her like a fish. Instead he grabbed his crewman by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him closer. “Watch her,” he snarled, motioning to Andromeda. “Don’t let her leave until I get back.”

And then Scarsgard was striding from the tavern, the glass on the doors frosting over as he passed. The little toadie spat out a mouth full of blood, then eyed her with a sneering, lecherous stare. She scowled back, in no way intimidated, which probably only angered him more.

“You’re gonna pay for this one, bitch,” he snarled, fingering the pistol holstered at his hip. “If I have to do it my damned self.” None of the nervous apprehension she was suddenly feeling showed outwardly, and she managed to meet his glare with a cool, unaffected stare.

“Somehow I highly doubt that.” The little ruffian sneered.

“Why? You think you’re gonna stop me?” Now she smirked.

“No, indeed not. But the very large black man standing behind you just might.”

The man tensed, and started to whirl, but by then it was already too late.

Andromeda had no idea where Morgan had come from. She didn’t even know he’d left the ship, but as soon as Scarsgard had left the tavern the First Mate had suddenly materialized out of the press of patrons dressed in casual clothes, his dreads pulled back into a messy tail. The imposing male had snuck up behind Thorn’s crewman with eerie skill, and now moved with lightening precision, kicking out the man’s knee on one side before his fist cut across the unfortunate’s face with a loud, bone-crunching crack.

The toad collapsed to the floor like a sack of grain, out cold.

Morgan turned to her then, holding out his hand. “C’mon, Doctor,” he urged somewhat hurriedly. “Time to go.”

Andromeda scrambled to her feet, allowing Morgan to grab her hand and then start to somewhat drag her toward the back exit.

“Mr. Halcyon, they—he knows! About the job!” she fumbled. “They know it was us!”

“I know,” he pronounced grimly, hauling her through the kitchens—both ignoring the curious stares of the staff—before pulling her out the door and down a side alley. “Which is why we needed to be on board and in the air two minutes ago.”

[Jane Doherty]

Jane sat at the helm controls, waiting and humming to herself. Her 'co-pilot' Cassy sat with her, but she was looking a little flushed and agitated.

Jane stopped humming long enough to ask, "so, what'd you do wrong? You're looking awful guilty."

Cassy blushed hard, her voice squeaking, "N-nothing! I didn't do anything wrong! Why would you think I did something wrong? I'm not guilty." She glanced away and fiddled with some controls, looking decidedly guilty.

"You really need to work on your innocent act girl. If you wanna be a real pirate, you gotta know that there is nothing we do that we should feel the slightest bit guilty about. We're pirates, we pillage and plunder, and enjoy every minute of it."

[Dane]

The emergency hatch on the Mjollnir opened suddenly with a snap hiss, the two guards turning to shot when they where knocked unconscious and disarmed by two of Dane's men, the weapons expert himself stepped on the ship, Veronica at ready as he scanned the area around him. After a moment he motioned with his pistol, T.K. and three more entered.

"Alright, you three go with T.K. and make sure nobody messes with him while he works his magic. I'm estimating 15-20 minutes tops." he grinned wide. "And if you run into Lyra, you call me. Don't try to take her, she'll just beat the snot out of you and I have to hear your bitchin'. Understood?" they all nodded while T.K. just shrugged.

They all separated, heading in two different directions. A few minutes later and about four downed guards, Dane and his three remaining crew arrived at Drusilda LeValle's cell, he smirked then sighed lightly.

Two guards? Fucking pathetic...hmm...I don't think the competition would just post two guards...Lyra's close by....

Dane smirked wide, things where about to get a whole lot sexier. A few moments later both guards where being dragged into the room Mrs. LeValle was being held in, the female in the room just blinked at them as they filled in, he smiled brightly bowing his head.

"Mrs. LeValle, we are not here to rescue you, no. As a matter of fact where here to kidnap you...again." he smiled. "Oh but don't worry, well be taking good care of you." she went to speak when he put a finger to his mouth. "Talking isn't necessary at this moment mama." he clicked his tongue. "Forgive my irrationalness, I'm on a time schedule. Speaking of that, time to go." he nodded to his men who gently lead the female out of the cell and down the hall.

Dane lead his team down the hall, there captive being surprisingly quiet, which lead him to hear the boot scuffs coming down the hall. He held up his arm for them to stop, backing up his men into a open room off to the side, he leaned near John's ear.

"Stay here till she passes, I'll distract her. While she's distracted get her back to the plunder, I'll join ya shortly." he nodded as he pulled out Veronica from his holster and stepped back into the hallway, stopping halfway to nab the bottle of rum out of John's backpack. He grinned wide as he fired a shot down the hall, and stared running down the hall way. He didn't aim at anything when he shot, but he heard Lyra's steps increase to find the source, he jumped into a room left unlocked, leaving it wide open.

It was a basic room, table, couple chairs and even a couch. He stepped over to a chair near the couch and sat down, removing his tie holding his hair in place allowing it flow free, putting the bottle of rum near his crotch leaning it slightly against the edge of the chair. He stared at the door, a mischievous smile on his face as he waited. Lyra didn't disappoint him, rounding the corner, her hands on the butt of her gun, she stared at him for a moment with those pale ice blue eyes. Lyra was wearing a uniform, black and blue, with silver trim—tight pants, top and cropped jacket with a wide belt set at an angle on her hips.

Dane gave a sexy smile. "I've been waiting for you, Lyra." he purred. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she slowly stepped into the room, a nonsenses look on her face that made him smirk further. "Relax baby, just wanna talk." her hand edged closer to her guns, he pulled Veronica out of his holster, with one finger setting it gently down on the table. She stared at him for a moment, eyebrow quirking. "Like adults." she squinted slightly at him, he read it like a book. "Yes, I wanna talk before you try blowing holes in me...again.

She didn't exactly smile, but he could have sworn her lipped curled for a moment in a smirk before fading all together, returning to the nonsense stare he was used to, he popped the cork on the rum bottle and poured himself and Lyra a glass, thanks to a stack of disposable cups nearby. He pushed one near to her while he held up his glass, she stared at the cup for a moment, and with a defiant glare picked it up.

They shared a toast before downing the contents together, he smiled at her as she continued to glare at him defiantly. "So, whats the chances of you letting me out of here alive?" she rolled her eyes then continued her glare, he just smirked and sighed. "About what I though, and from what I'm gathering from that stare, your wondering 'what the fuck is this devilishly good looking hunk of a man doing here?'" she didn't look amused, he chuckled lightly. "Easy baby, just came here to woe you a bit." her hand edged closer to guns at her side. "Oh c'mon, who we joking? You know you just wanna ravage me on this table, right here and right now. So much, you--." he cut himself off when her fingers touched the hilts and began to draw, he tossed himself off of his chair and behind the couch as the first shot grazed his left side, he hit the floor with a huff, he grabbed his extra gun on his thigh.

He fired random shots just so he had breathing room, he smirked when the dust cleared.

"We could have had something special baby! But you trying to kill me still turns me on!" this caused her to try to shoot him again, he dodged over to the table and reached for the bottle of rum, before he could Lyra grabbed him in a giant bear hug, trying to squeeze the breath out of him. He grunted and groan against her grip and smirked wide. "I didn't wanna do this babe, but your given me no choice." with a furious growl he broke Lyra's iron clad grip enough to reach for the bottle on the table, in one quick jerk he smashed the contents of the bottle against the back of her head. She jerked suddenly upon impact, grip loosening as she toppled to the floor. Dane scooped her up and carried her to the couch close by, setting her down easily on its surface.

He dusted off the puddle of rum that splashed against her cheek and his chest.

"Damn waste of good rum." he murmured to himself, he stared at her now still face ans smiled. "See ya next time babe." with that he grabbed up Veronica and reached for his communicator, keying it on.

"T.K. this is Dane, hope your about done down there, Lyra's out cold , but knowing her she'll be up and pissed off in about five to ten minutes." he gulped slightly and grinned. "And we all know what happens when she's pissed."

"This is T.K., Just finished, meet you back at the Plunder soon." Dane smiled.

All according to plan...well minus the bullet wounds on my left side...meh, details details.

[T.K.]

As soon as they had split up, T.K. had taken his three guards, and headed for the back of the ship. They stopped twice, so T.K. could open access panels, and alter the power flow through the ship. Their last stop, was engineering.

He clucked his tongue in shame. No guard outside Engineering. The Captain and his Firstmate might have been a pair of great pirates, but with a lackluster crew like this, it was amazing they got and work done at all.

Two of his guards slipped inside first, and quickly disabled the lone Engineer on duty. At least someone on the ship was taking their job seriously. T.K. rushed in, and quickly began typing away at the computer console. He turned to one of the guards.

“Hey Jack. Crack open that panel to your left.”

Jack did as he was told, and was greeted by a tangle of wires.

“Remember that day you thought you wanted to work in Engineering, and you accidentally cut through the overrides for the Engines?'

“Yes....”

“Have at it then. All of them”

Jack smirked as he got to work, and started using his boot knife to start cutting wires.

A few minutes later, T.K. was just finishing recoding the entire control system for the ship, when his communicator went off.

>>"T.K. this is Dane, hope your about done down there, Lyra's out cold , but knowing her she'll be up and pissed off in about five to ten minutes." he gulped slightly and grinned. "And we all know what happens when she's pissed." <<

T.K. smirked as he replied.

"This is T.K., Just finished, meet you back at the Plunder soon."

T.K. nodded to the guards, then gestured for them to slip back out of Engineering.

“OK boys, back to the ship. I really don't want to be here, when Lyra and the Captain Scarsgard figure out what's happened.”