What's the Brig Idea? (Open)

[Bartelby]

"Well you'll just have to get it right next time," Bartelby said to Patsy as they walked briskly down the hall. "When I said I wanted you to get white robes, I meant white robes. Not light grey robes, not off-white robes, but white robes. Anyway, I guess there's no sense worrying about it now. Just go back to the room and I'll see you after my meeting."

As Patsy turned off down a side hallway, Bartelby continued to march toward his destination. He had his staff in hand, his off-white robes draped over him, and he even took the time to brush up on his religious history before he left his room that morning. He was meeting with the captain so he had to be on top of his game.

As he neared the brig, he saw the captain. "Ah, hello captain. I understand you may have some use for my services?"

[Gregoire]

The Captain was leaning patiently against the wall outside of the brig, arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in a loose white shirt that was partially tucked into his pants. Pressing against his hip was a gun, holstered but ready to be used. Greg perked up when Bartelby approached, stuffing the rest of his shirt into his pants and masking his impatience with a smirk. "Took ya long enough Bartelby." He lifted an eyebrow at Bartelby's comment, fishing a key card from his pocket.

"Make it quick. I'm not sure how long we'll be holding this guy anyways. Unless he figures he wants to join us." The chance of a UIR officer joining Greg's ranks was probably low, but the captain could still dream. If he managed to convince this guy to help out, he'd be gaining a pretty experienced crew member. Not to mention the bragging rights to getting a UIR officer on board. It was a lofty opportunity that Greg couldn't pass up, even if the odds were against him. But first, Bartelby had requested some time with the hostage.

Greg pulled the key from his pocket, flashing it across the security pad next to the door leading into the brig. There was a gentle swishing sound as the door slid open, and an unpleasant but faded odor floated out into the loading dock. The 'brig' had originally been a pen for transporting different animals to sell, but Greg had been using it to keep hostages after raids. The door opened up into a larger room, sectioned off into smaller, barred cages. The hostage was being kept in one of the smaller-sized cages, spacey enough to allow the prisoner to stand up, but not big enough to move around too much. Greg gestured inside, "Here we are, my friend."

[Kaden]

Kaden was sitting in the middle of cage, his legs crossed and his posture slightly relaxed. He had his hands on his knees, his eyes closed and was breathing evenly and slowly. The smells of the animals that had once been kept here permeated the air and were slightly unpleasant to most but they were slightly comforting to him. They reminded him of his adolescent days spent working in a veterinarian clinic. To him, this smell bespoke of hard work and a secure house.

The sound of footsteps on the light alloy of the ships hallways reached Kaden's ears and he opened his eyes and watched the captain and a man he hadn't met walk towards him. He didn't change his position at all and in fact closed his eyes again, waiting for them to reach his door.

"Here we are, my friend," he heard the captain say as the footsteps came to a stop outside his stall. Kaden stood up in one graceful motion and instinctively went into a parade rest. "Gentlemen," he said politely but with no hint of friendliness. "Have you come here to discuss my release?"

[Bartelby]

Bartelby walked along beside and behind the captain with as much formality as he could muster. Before he knew it, they were standing in front of the prisoner's cage. And a respectful prisoner at that. Bartelby was surprised to see the man get up and stand at attention. Not exactly what I had in mind when I asked to speak with the prisoner, Bartelby thought to himself. I suppose I'll just have to make due with the situation.

"Gentlemen. Have you come here to discuss my release?"

"Not your release, no." Bartelby took the liberty of informing the prisoner of the situation. "I have asked for permission to speak with you, and the captain her was kind enough to oblige. I felt I may be of some use. To both you and the captain. I have found that many people who are put into a situation such as yours become... confused. Could use a helping hand to get them back on track. You know, spiritually."

"That is why I, Lord Bartelby, have offered up my services in religious counseling." He gave a short bow to the prisoner. "If there is anything on your mind, I would be happy to lend a guiding hand."

[Kaden]

"I thank you for your offer Father," Kaden replied, using the universal title for religious officials since he couldn't tell which exact religion the person in front of him belonged to by his robes alone. "But I am afraid my spirit is a matter between the High Ones and myself alone. But if you would like to release me I would gladly share a cup of tea with you and your Captain," Kaden said with a nod to the man who's real name he was sure he still did not know, "and discuss the differences of our beliefs. Until I am released I am afraid we have nothing to talk about. Gentlemen," Kaden said with a slight bow to the two before he sat down in the middle of his cell, sitting as easily as he'd risen and closing his eyes.

His body grew very still and his breathing grew even. It almost seemed as if he'd gone to sleep except for that his posture, while relaxed, was still very upright. He seemed as if he had shut out the world and, for all intents and purposes, he had. He was serious, he had nothing to discuss with these thieves and charlatans until they released him.

[Gregoire]

Greg watched Kaden with a hint of curiosity, leaning against the cage right next to his. Usually, when it came to hostages, things devolved very quickly. About this time, the prisoner would be spewing curses all over the place, battering themselves silly against the cage bars in a stupid attempt to get out. Other times they just sat in corners and cried, staring into space. The latter were the boring ones. Kaden, however, had some sense of formality about him. And he was acting civilized, which Greg liked.

Once Bartelby had made his religious pitch, Kaden rejected it and sat back down. Stealing a glance over at the religious man, Greg shrugged his shoulders. He pushed off from the bars, facing Kaden's cage and crouching down. "Regretfully, there's not going to be any release without any money. Perhaps you should give Father Bartelby more of a chance. He came all the way down into this stink hole to talk to you."

[Kaden]

"You call your own ship a stink hole Captain?" Kaden asked in quiet surprise. "Do you have no pride?" He asked quietly, his eyes still closed and his posture still relaxed. He had not risen his voice above that of a comfortable conversation level when speaking in an enclosed area but it had taken on an edge. The implied lack of pride in one's ship was the closest he had come to insulting Gregoire and so revealing his anger at the current situation.

"If money is all you care for," Kaden continued though he couldn't keep a hint of disgust from tinging his voice, "you know that all UIF officers are worth a standard ransom if delivered unharmed." He opened his eyes to look into those of the Captains, ignoring the self proclaimed priest altogether for the moment. "However, with the galaxy in the flux that it is it may be difficult to reach my superiors. If you allow me to leave your ship and return to my fleet I will ensure you get my ransom, delivered in any way you find convenient. Of that you have my word."

Kaden was annoyed that he'd let this thief catch him so easily. In fact the situation was slightly embarrassing. He only wished to see it end. Besides, he had important duties waiting for him back with the fleet. He could not spend his time here on a pirate ship breathing in the musk of long gone animals.

[Bartelby]

Bartelby appreciated the support the captain was giving his request. He would have wagered that not a lot of ship captains would have taken time out of their busy day to help a holy man speak with a hostage. And for that, Bartelby was grateful. Perhaps if they had met at a different time during Bartelby's life, they could have even become friends, or business partners, but he was having a hard time imagining when he would have ever had a chance to get to know someone like this captain.

When the prisoner and the captain started talking about money, Bartelby decided to stay out of it. However, the prisoner's plan seemed so absurd that Bartelby couldn't help but open his mouth. "You are going to give your word? You promise to pay your ransom if you are released? Can you even hear yourself talk? That's absurd! It's no wonder you managed to get caught in the fist place if that's the way your logic works! I mean, who would actually..."

Bartelby stopped himself mid-sentence, realizing that he had gone too far. He didn't say anything more, but instead took a step back and began his homemade forgiveness prayers. This meeting was not going as planned.

[Archer]

"Well now preacher," Dean piped in as he walked down the muggy hallway towards the trio, "That didn't sound very enlightened. You best be carefull not to fall in step with us "sininng" folk." He cleaned his hands on a rag as he went, nearing the group. Archer had heard that they had taken on a prisoner and decided to take a look to see if it was anyone interesting. What he didn't count on was to find the priest slipping ever-so-slightly out of his role.

That was just a bonus.

Dean came up to the open cell and leaned on the door, facing Gregoire ,"So what do we got here Cap. ? Sumggler? Drifter?" He looked at the cative, "Or soldier?"

[Kaden]

"Pilot," Kaden answered for himself in a clipped tone, his eyes burning with anger but it was for the "priest" and not the new comer. At the priest's words Kaden had risen to his feet and was now standing in a stiff parade rest, his shoulders slightly shaking because he was holding them so tightly.

He turned to look at the man who was now pretending to be involved in prayer. Kaden felt no guilt at interrupting him since he had no respect for a priest who did not believe in honor. "Are you implying that I am lying to you or your Captain," Kaden asked quietly. "Are you saying that my word means nothing?" Kaden took a slight step forward, forgetting himself enough to abandon caution though he knew every one of the crew were armed except for him.

His hands had dropped to his sides, his fingers moving slightly in order to limber up. To most others a clenched fist was a sign that there was about to be trouble. But in Kaden's culture the hands were for creation and the feet were for destruction. One never used ones hands to hurt another and so, their entire fighting style had evolved around this cultural belief. His hands were loose because he was preparing to fight the way he'd been taught. But Kaden himself was mostly unaware of his hand's preparations for trouble since he was too focused on the man with his hands piously held before his chest.

"Then again, maybe I expect too much of you Father," Kaden said, the last word full of disgust and his whole body radiating anger and offense. "What does a whore's son raised by street dogs too treacherous and mean to have earned the love of decent masters know of honor. Nor should I expect a mangy chicken," he continued, looking briefly at the man's off white robes, "to control its clucking, whether they are the one being addressed or not."

[Deux]

Deux walked down the halls of the ship as he usually did. Having nothing to do gave plenty of time for exploring the many parts of the vessel. He could only spend so much time in the mess hall learning how to talk to people. As he turned down one of the hall ways he thought he heard a familiar voice.

“Bartelby?” he asked himself and started walking toward the voice. He may not have known the man but he was atleast familiar with him. As he got closer he heard Archer as well and quickened his pace. Neither had sounded happy but then again people rarely sounded like they felt from what he gathered.

“Chickens?” He looked around the room as he stepped in, “where?” Instead of waiting for an answer he approached the group oblivious to the tension growing.

“Hello Bartelby, Hello Archer,” Deux nodded at the two he was familiar with. He turned toward Greg, “Hello Captain”. Though he hadn’t really met the man he knew that much. Finally he looked at Kaden.

“Hello, I don’t believe we have met. My name is Deux Hâ. What is yours?” Deux tried to look pleasant but he couldn’t figure out how to smile. He tugged at his hood nervously before giving a slight bow, “None the less it is a pleasure to meet you.” That had been a phrase he learned from listening in the mess and hoped he used it properly.

[Kaden]

Kaden came up short, some of the anger draining from his body at the sound of a soft voice and a polite tone. He looked down at the young man who had entered the cell and stepped between him and the priest. He could still see the hulking form of the priest behind the slim figure of the boy, the off white robes framing Deux on almost all sides, but he seemed much less important. The boy almost seemed to shrink inside of his clothing but, despite this unsavory tendency, he seemed a solid enough young man. Clean, polite and honest, three things Kaden liked.

He pulled himself up and bowed slightly in return, "Kaden kai'Zeke and the pleasure is mine. I'm afraid you are the first person I have met with any manners on this ship," Kaden continued, speaking to the boy but speaking loudly enough that his voice would carry to everyone else in the cell. "I'm afraid your Captain has yet to even perform the basic courtesy you just have." Kaden looked up and his eyes briefly met those of the priest's over the boy's shoulder, "and some have forgotten their manners completely. Be welcome in my House Deux Hâ," he said, gesturing to the small cell, "what there is of it."

[Archer]

"Now that is something, " Dean said- a bit of intrigue touching the words. "Formality all the way out here. You don't see much of that here in the black Mr. Pilot. I wouldn't be so surprised. The way it works out here, you don't give any information to someone you don't trust." Dean nodded to himself,and then to Kaden. Nobility and honor all the way out here...I can respect that.

"You can call me Archer."

[Kaden]

"Prosperity on your House Archer," Kaden said to the man, bowing slightly with a hand over his heart. "And I do not see the harm in offering your name," he said as he straightened. "Unless you are doing things to dishonor it of course." He hadn't meant to imply anything really. It was pretty obvious that these men were not exactly in an honest business but that was true of many of those who made their living on the outskirts of the galaxy. Kaden didn't exactly look down on them for it. How could he? They were doing what they had to to survive and that was admirable.

But just because you were pitting your will against those who would do you harm and the galaxy itself was no reason to be rude. There was no harm in a name. The worst that he could do with it was to search for them when he got back to the Fleet. And what would he find? That they were some sort of pirates? He had probably figured that out by now.

[Gregoire]

Kaden's question caused the captain to chuckle lightly, and the intended slight on Greg's pride didn't seem to phase him much. The crew who spent their lives on the ship knew how well Greg loved his ship. "I wasn't referring specifically to my ship, friend." He knocked a fist against the bars of Kaden's prison. "Just to your fancy new home. And as you can well tell, it doesn't smell like flowers and perfume in here."

Greg listened patiently as Kaden proposed some absurd plan, trying to keep his expression pleasant. It sounded like a terrible idea. Before he could respond properly, the priest cut in with his own thoughts. Greg raised an eyebrow, turning his head to flash a look at the man. Bartelby seemed to realize his own mistake, cutting himself off and becoming silent. Greg clapped both his hands together, still crouching, and looked Kaden in the eye. "You must think me a complete fool, to suggest something like that. No money, no release--"

The Laika's fighter pilot came strolling into the Brig, talking, and Greg cursed himself silently for leaving the door wide open. The less people in here, the smoother this was supposed to go. It had been hard enough for Bartelby to convince him to escort him down, and it might not have happened if Greg hadn't seen it as an opportunity to have a small chat with Kaden. Just to test the waters, of course. Pulling himself up to a standing position, he flashed Dean a slight smile as Kaden answered his question. "Pilot, as it were."

Shortly after Kaden began insulting Bartelby, a boy wandered into the Brig. A puzzled look rose on Greg's face. It wasn't too surprising that he wouldn't remember all the men he hired all the time. When he needed to freshen up his roster, he usually had a couple crew members cast a wide net on some outer core planet, and reel in whatever they could scavenge to hire. This kid looked a bit young to be on his ship, but he seemed to know Greg was Captain. That was enough, he figured, and returned the kid's greeting with a nod and question, "Do you have business here? It's getting a bit crowded, and this was only supposed to be a short affair." As lax as Greg was at times, he wasn't too interested in the idea of his prisoners being on display for the whole crew, like animals at a zoo. It wasn't his intention.

The talking continued between Kaden and the others, and Greg banged his palm against the bars to get everyone's attention. "That's enough. We aren't here to become best of pals with the hostage." The small bit of anger that surfaced came mostly from Kaden's babbling small talk about names. Greg leveled his gaze on Kaden. "Are you going to listen to the priest or not? I'm tired of wasting my time."