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"What I'm saying, is that this ship could be ours".
Martin, his young face half obscured by the low light in this engine space, watched the uncertainty amongst his fellow crew members. Squeezed down into this service space on the airship the five men were shifting uneasily, not ready to commit to anything more than talking so far.
"We're in a position to take this ship, you know...." he pressed on, the tall dark-haired young artilleryman leaning closer to the group. "With what's going on down on the surface...."
He cast his eyes around the group. Let that sink in. They all knew what was going on down on the surface. The hordes of undead creatures roaming the countryside, searching out the flesh of the living. The cities of the Republic were in turmoil. They could see them, when the clouds broke, teaming like ants below them. Some were wreathed in smoke and flame, others merely had the sense of chaos about them. It had begun nearly a month ago, the Republic reeling from the turmoil of the surprise outbreak.
Yet the crew of the Argos were stuck up here, cruising at a reasonable height, doing nothing. Their female captain, and her largely female officer group, were well meaning but, caught by this unexpected upset, out of their depth. What were they going to do now? Why hadn't they been dipping down to the surface, picking up survivors or...doing anything other than cruising around. Martin was frustrated and, to that extent, had been working on his fellow crew members. Men and women. Trying to talk them into doing something. Anything.
"We could own this ship" Martin said, leaning in and knowing he had the whole attention of the group. "We could take this ship and do whatever we liked. Whatever...we...liked". He scanned the group although, really, he only wanted the attention of one person. The one person who had access to the officers when they were at ease in their quarters. The one person who could deliver them victory.
The cabin boy, who was looking directly back at him.
Martin, his young face half obscured by the low light in this engine space, watched the uncertainty amongst his fellow crew members. Squeezed down into this service space on the airship the five men were shifting uneasily, not ready to commit to anything more than talking so far.
"We're in a position to take this ship, you know...." he pressed on, the tall dark-haired young artilleryman leaning closer to the group. "With what's going on down on the surface...."
He cast his eyes around the group. Let that sink in. They all knew what was going on down on the surface. The hordes of undead creatures roaming the countryside, searching out the flesh of the living. The cities of the Republic were in turmoil. They could see them, when the clouds broke, teaming like ants below them. Some were wreathed in smoke and flame, others merely had the sense of chaos about them. It had begun nearly a month ago, the Republic reeling from the turmoil of the surprise outbreak.
Yet the crew of the Argos were stuck up here, cruising at a reasonable height, doing nothing. Their female captain, and her largely female officer group, were well meaning but, caught by this unexpected upset, out of their depth. What were they going to do now? Why hadn't they been dipping down to the surface, picking up survivors or...doing anything other than cruising around. Martin was frustrated and, to that extent, had been working on his fellow crew members. Men and women. Trying to talk them into doing something. Anything.
"We could own this ship" Martin said, leaning in and knowing he had the whole attention of the group. "We could take this ship and do whatever we liked. Whatever...we...liked". He scanned the group although, really, he only wanted the attention of one person. The one person who had access to the officers when they were at ease in their quarters. The one person who could deliver them victory.
The cabin boy, who was looking directly back at him.