"With all due respect", Adel replied, straightening herself and folding her hands into a Parade Rest stance, "Those who follow on promise of loot and I. O. U. are usually either useless battle dogs in need of a leash or untrained militiamen or, worse, young agri-world boys who stole their fathers' hunting rifles and assume the galaxy is not filled with terrible things, heads inflated with Imperial doctrine."

She shook her head, still staring at the xenos. "A good soldier, the only soldier we should recruit and trust, will have been jaded, and yet not fallen to sheer bloodthirst yet."

'Eadbolt would be quick to reply with an explanation. "Well ya seez we work wiv our own Teef, da big pointy 'uns naw da lil grindin' ones yooz lot an da 'umies 'ave most uv, even yooz pointy 'uns pretty sad. 'Owevah fer gittin me some proppa spanna boyz Iz can just knock dem or dere boss around, make 'em an a few grots tag along ya know? Anyfing else...well Iz figure it out, got a few uv deese 'terown' thingies ya softies use ta buy stuff wit. Just gimme a lil bit more time on da world 'fore we leg it an I'll find somin'.....reminds me I 'ad a roight kunnin idea lookin' at sum uv dose empty rooms. Wot if we brought along an extra boy or two, stomped 'um an den let all da funny spore fings fly inta a room we make real dark and kinda warm, weez can start growin' our own lil mob so weez always got spare 'ands on board! "

@MetalDog4
OOC: In case the Orkcent was too thick, he basically wants to bring a few extra Orks back, kill them, then let their spores settle in a specially prepared empty room so we cans tart growing spare meat shields/Ork slaves.

<Captain Alea Vatton>

"Commander Adel, however you deem necessary to recruit the best soldiers you can is acceptable to me. I am willing to pay a starting bonus for experienced, well-trained, and loyal soldiers. I have the money for this, I just need you to find the soldiers."
At this point she has climbed down from the table and is standing near the door. Her vox reply to the Ork was stern in nature.
"Teeth...how delightfully barbaric. However you obtain those is up to you. But I am not, I repeat NOT, going to have an Ork breeding room on my ship. If orks die we will find new, battle - hardened ones to replace them."

Spike nodded with a smile as he inhaled more of the lho-stick,ash falling on his brown glove,but he quicky whipped it away.
"Don't mention it."added Spike with a smile,without looking at the alien.Regretting he gave him an almost full bottle,he jumped over the bar and started rummaging trough its content for a worthy drink,or a cart of it.If he would really go with this band of misfits around the galaxy he would need drinks...and a lot of it.
Selecting and depositing in a crate various wines,ales and amasecs,paying little heed to the actually bar-owner,Spike answered the Eldar,between the puffs of smoke,lho-stick always now between his lips,since his hands were busy.

"My talents?"reapeated ex-Vanus in hindsight,after which he shook his head.Of course his gesture was not seen,behind the bar-counter.

"Well...I am jack of all trades,you need it done and I am your man...so to speak.Also...I am able to manipulate,compile and...acquire...information to your...and mine desire.You need clearance in a restricted part of space?An entire cargo manifest of a particulary juicy merchant vessel?Maybe you need to find a particular person?Then...I am your man."spoke Spike as he hefted aboard the counter,a particulary overloaded crate filled with various bottles of all shapes and sizes.
With a smile he added:"Supplies.Nothing like alchol when you are in cold depths of the void."

Vaulting over the counter he spoke with a somewhat serious tone:
"But I wont scrub the floors,be a glorified praetorian of the ship`s cargo or an engineer,even if I am capable of doing such things."
Extinguishing his burnt-up lho-stick on the wooden platform of the counter,he added:"Lets call it...hmm...something important...hmm.Tactical officer!No...that sounds like a desk job...hmm...How about Tactical and Logistics Officer?Yeah...that sounds good."finished Spike with a smile as he hefted the weighty crate of 'supplies'.
"Oh...I almost forgot.Here...this should cover the expenses..."added Spike as he tossed a single Golden Throne to the bartender.A rare coin,very valuable,made out of precious metals unavailable outside of Imperial space.

"See you on the ship,Captain!"added Spike with a wink,as he passed the colorful Eldar,hefting the weighty crate,with an occasional grunt.
"Oh and...i know where the Sapphire is.I just didnt know it belonged to an Eldar.At one point i wanted to nick it,but couldnt operate it alone."he yelled followed by a laugh.

~~Onboard the Sapphire~~

"Well...it could be worse."added Spike as he looked around the ship,his precious crate already hidden in what he designated his room.After all...he was an officer!He would not mix with other rabble or share a room with an alien.Though...it might be fun.

Pulling his coat`s left sleeve up,he revealed his cogitator gauntlet.The mechanism came to life and illuminated his face and everything in close proximity with a gentle blue light.
With a skilled manipulation of a Epsilon-dan class Vanus,he quickly pierced the aegis protection of this vessel.Skimming though the unimportant data of the ship`s manufacture,the custom-made additions and mileage,Spike ran onto something worth noting and acting upon.Instantly his Cogitator gauntlet flashed with red light,warning him of a possible dangerous encounter,usually marked so by the Inquisition.Zesty sub-routines!Two words flashed over its holo-display in High Gothic: "Xenos Horrificus".
Spike smiled as he made his way toward the bridge,his boots clanking against the metal decking.It was too long,sinceSpike last set his eyes on a Lacrymole.

Finding his target aboard the bridge,as a good First Mate that he is,Spike spoke:

"A Lacrymole..."spoke Spike with a penchant of nostalgia in his voice.His posture neutral,standing in the middle of the bridge,right next to pilot`s consoles,Spike made a mock-salute.
"I guess i am under you too,First Mate.Captain sent me.I am to be your Logistics and Tactical Officer.Had experience and i traveled far and wide.Captain should fill you on the rest."
With that said he approached the alien,extending his gloved right hand.
"Spike Spiegel.Pleasure..."he said with a smile."Do you mind if i...snoop around your data-banks?I would need the ship`s data if we are to lift off.Or...you have orders?"

<Captain Vatton>

@Jorimel @Skarboy

That left just the haemonculus and his assistant left.

"Well what about you two? I assume you want to join up? I am familiar with your kind's general goals. I am not entirely certain what role you could fit amongst the crew, but I'm willing to have you on board if you're willing to assist in some way, be it fighting or 'enhancing'."

"It might get expensive" were Adel's parting words.

The commander left to follow in the direction her two grenadiers went, seeking out people who appeared sane and competent; the dishevelled ones, those with a gleam of optimism in their eyes and the overtly Chaotic she would send away, but otherwise pursue her recruitment with open ears - and a generous wallet.

'Eadbolt didn't sound too disappointed with the news, returning a grunt of acknowledgement before speaking once more. "Oiy oiy Kaptinn, still comin' back with some spanna boyz an grots but naw, no spore boyz den, yooz got it. 'Eadbolt ova an out! " Handy's servo-harness was extended forward so he could peer around a set of corners, by this point 'Eadbolt had made his way down into sewers and was sloshing around in stagnant filth, local sump system having fallen into disrepair long ago he was wading through knee deep excrement, runny water and other things best left undiscovered without any health concerns what so ever, the scent frankly pleasant compared to your normal Ork camp for that matter. A healthy jog brought him up to a scrap palisade walling off one of the sewage pipes, a pair of big shootas tracked onto him as he approached. Seeing it was another Ork they didn't fire, just kept aiming down even as a servo-claw punched open a gate, Tek-Git meandering on inside like he owned the place.

Making his way up to a tower constructed from soggy wood, yet more scrap metal and a thick, corroded piece of piping stolen from elsewhere in the sewers he followed a winding ramp upward to its peak, a flat platform with a sign post wired up with several voice casters. A particularly large Ork with one eye, a leather cowl and some gnarled looking limbs that could put even 'Eadbolt's augmented ones to shame glanced toward the former Blud Revan. Before either could speak Handy had thrown a single ivory tooth his way, Nob grumbling and stowing it away before returning to his watch, allowing the mek to step forward and make use of public intercom system.

"Testin', testin'. " Listening to his voice echo within the grimy steel confines of the sewage system 'Eadbolt smiled. "Iz lookin' fer spare 'ands for freebootin', krumpin across da starz an lootin'! Want a small 'andful uv spanna boyz an any kunnin' grots with sticky fingas dat fink deyz kut out fer leavin' dis shit pit! " His message out the Orkgineer wandered back down the ramp, merely awaiting his newest subordinates to show up. Given a few minutes several boyz and a small swarm of Grots had arrived. Looking over his choices they were...all sadder than he would of liked but then again he supposed this meant not worrying about anyone trying to back stab him. Without a word two of the hopeful Orks were torched by his burna, screaming as they performed the burny dance much to others' delight, a third such boy laughing at his kins misfortune was taken by servo-claw with three sharp prongs boring into eye sockets and open mouth. A single violent twist had ripped his skull from body, part of spine still dragging behind connecting stump neck and a bloodied cranium still wearing a terrified expression. Eight grots and two gits remained, none laughing. 'Eadbolt grinned in sinister fashion. "Welcome ta da krew lads. Ya first task once we get some scrap is ta 'ammer out some proppa spannas for yaselves. Grots, consida ya selves lucky, all yooz get to live an be me scrap lootas. Come along now...gonna go pay da surface scrap yards a visit. "

< @kanila >

The crates of meats and veggies arrived to the kitchen at the same time as the Ratling, and it was a good thing he had splurged for the amount of food he did. The Galley was empty. Totally empty. Thankfully the kitchen was fully equipped with all the tools that would be found in the highest noble's gourmet kitchen. This, and the high-quality ingredients that he got, would allow for some creativity in making grand dishes.

< @Maleth >

Herchite arrived without incident, and immediately began his inspection. Given it was a pirate ship, he obviously found quite a few hidden compartments. They were empty, and there was no way to know if he found them all. He found at least 5 in the cargo hold, where he started. Vent hatches and bulkheads all seemed to be in working order, and they'd most likely close when needed.

The Barracks were empty of any arms or armor, but was filled with securable arms lockers. Good for keeping individual's loadouts separate, and also keeping boarders from stealing the weapons held within. The barracks, engine room, gun bay and Generatorium all had double-bulkheads, to seal off such vital areas. There were hints of door shields as well, but nothing concrete.

The engineer's workshop and Kitchen both seemed quite secure, if not to a maximal level due to their lesser importance. The Ratling who had been hired as cook was inside, and seemed to be working in the galley, sorting food The crew rooms were all along the center spine of the ship, and had security doors. Lower level, but still a complex hack.

The bridge, obviously, also had a double bulkhead door. Inside was the Shape-changing first mate and the Astartes gunner. They were each looking at consoles, most likely acquainting themselves with what is under their command.

Satisfied with his inspection, Herchite moves to leave but is stopped with odd noises from the cargo bay. He dashed back, to find a young, sandy-haired human boy grabbing likely-stale food from a compartment he had not found. The heavy footfalls made him turn. He was undressed except for ragged pants, and his body was covered in scars, cut and bruises, both fresh and healing. Tears stood in his eyes, but he stared defiantly. "I not going back to that man. Kill me if you want, but I am not leaving unless I am dead."

< @Casavay >

As Adel caught up with her Grenadiers, they fell in behind her, the duty to her that was drilled into their heads taking command once again. They walked to a more seedy part of the station, where arms dealers and some unsavory characters made their homes. But this is also where the best mercenaries could be found. And indeed, mixed in with the baby-faced were true soldiers.

There was a Fire Warrior, perhaps a pathfinder before, with both a pulse carbine and a rail rifle on his back. What was odd was the large knife he carried, and it seemed he used it, judging by the scar on his face, obviously from CQC.

There was also an Eldar pathfinder, his long rifle slung across his back as he arm wrestled a large human... and won. The human, obviously angry, pulled out an auto pistol, but never had a chance to fire it as the Pathfinder disappeared, the man falling to the ground a few seconds later, knocked out by a rifle butt to the head.

Another human, who seemed like a Cadian stormtrooper, was standing at an arms dealer's tent, looking over his Hellgun, which it seemed he was testing some modifications on it from said dealer. In addition, a plasma gun, meltagun and shotgun all lay on the counter.

Another Eldar stood leaning against the wall, A shuriken catapult on each hip, and a sword in a sheath on his back. He wore guardian armor, but his helmet was off, as if he had fully embraced being a warrior. His eyes spoke of centuries of combat

< @DeranVendar >

Teh Orks n' grots, obviously placated by the show of force, followed 'Eadbolt up to the surface as quietly as orks could follow anyone. As the group arrived at the scrap yards, da grots ran off to go gather scrap and tools, as long as the Tek-Git gave permission. Da udder two remained behind, as recruiting was his job. Among the scavengers were a few promising individuals.

A bigger than normal earth-caste tau, with some sort of suit that seemed to allow his arms to become different tools.Right now he was using a plasma cutter to cut a rail cannon off of some Tau scrap.

A Pair of humans, one male and one female, who seemed to be trying to build some sort of robotic creation similar to a Tau drone.

Another earth Caste, this one with a pair of drones to be his tools.

And finally, what seemed to be a techmarine, with green and bronze armor...

< @High_Adept_Zeth >

Lex brought out a clawed hand and shook Spike's "Lex. Call me Lex. And do what you must to get acquainted with the ship and do your job. However, should you do anything to sabotage or negatively affect the vessel or her crew, I will find out... and I won't be happy about it." Lex says seriously. "Oh, and that's your console over there." He points to one of the consoles, voice much more cheerful.

At last he had time to speak to the elegant and deadly Captain Alea. Treleskan bowed, just briefly, because he no more wanted to seem obsequious and unimaginative than the good lady wanted to waste time.

"Milady, I am Master Haemonculus Treleskan Varl of the Remade Helix. I specialise in enhancements of the form and I am especially skilled in making those with the Will and the strength of purpose ... fly." He almost reached out to touch the wings folded on her back; artificial, to be sure, but just how much did they indicate? Was she truly of a mind to be transformed, to soar on the magnificent pinions her soul desired? But he reined in his slender hand. Some things are worth the wait. Why spoil the moment with the crass inability of a lesser being, unable to restrain the merest impulse? And many impulses raced through his mind. Not least among them was a desire to feel the softness and smoothness of that lovely white skin. Dilated pupils might show something of his interest, but the nuances of his body language were subtle. A Commorrite could pick them up, certainly. This one - well, that was all part of the dance.

"I can perform miracles of surgery from the mundane repair of damaged tissue and bone to improvement and redesign of the inefficiencies of lesser forms." He paused, a slight smile on his lips as he continued,

"As for the pinnacle of creation, the Eldar - have you never stood on the peak of a mountain and wondered: what lies higher than the roof of the world? We once reached for the stars, Captain Alea. We of the Covens ... we continue that quest within."

He indicated the Wrack with a sweep of his hand. "My assistant will aid me in fleshwork. We will need a space to make our own - somewhere that can be fitted out with the proper tools and equipment. But these are details, and Dras is well schooled in obtaining what we need."

"I am no mere sawbones, my dear Alea. You may consider me your personal hired physician, and I will make it my task to work to your most exacting specifications. You will not be disappointed with my work."

"What man?" Herchite was taken aback by the presence of the boy, and his poor state suggested that whoever had been on this ship before.... Was certainly not kind to the poor boy. As a show of good will to the boy, he kneeled down on one knee and removed his horned helmet, cradling it in his left arm while his right arm keeping the heavy bolter pointing away from the boy as he didn't want to frighten him. Speaking clearly now, the Havoc asked "Who hurt you that badly?"