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Back in the Tikki tavern, a tall, blue skinned humanoid that could almost be considered a thin giant makes his way through the various patron flanked by a pair of animated suits of armor bearing oversized maces that must be wielded in both hands for proper usage. The mercane seems to be looking for someone with the iron golems trailing behind as bodyguards. It is the aftermath of the fight and Remmy is enjoying some beer with what he now considers his countrymen, the giff and neogi aside. Once sighted by the thin giant of no small arcane ability judging by his midnight blue robe that features twinkling lights like stars seen against the backdrop of a night sky, he makes his way over to the lupin in short order whereas Rembrandt recognizes the over sized mercantile wizard almost immediately.

"Well, well, well," Rembrandt says with mock indignation. "If it isn't Giovanni Machiavelli, what are you doing in zis part of ze Rock?"

"Salutations, Captain Bastylle." Machiavelli states formally. "To be truthful, I came seeking your august personage."

"And why would you want to do zat?" Rembrandt asks. "Unless you have some news on ze special commission we agreed on after I freed you from illithid bondage so you could repair your tarnished reputation from ze hi-jinks perpetrated by ze so called renegade."

"Indeed, I rather enjoyed your challenge." Giovanni accedes. "Converting a triop so that it is indeed fully submersible is one that can have numerous applications. Your ship will be a prototype of sorts. I humbly request that you keep me informed of how well it performs."

"Why do I get the suspicion that I am not the only one who has requested this modification?" Rembrandt inquires slyly.

"Yes, many clients want the modification you have requested and some of them are...more affluent and want guarantees." Machiavelli says hesitantly.

"Well, ze fortunes of a pirate like mine self are not always constant." Rembrandt admits. "Now I need a crew that I can take back home. Ones that will not be affected by the warping effects of our home sphere."

"Well, you have us of course." Moe says with his brothers nodding like bobble head dolls behind him.

"Hmmm," Murray reasons. "I think I would like to see this sphere. You said you come a system where all the sentients are humanoid animals right?"

"That's right," Archie says with conviction. "And for some odd reason whenever humans, elves and the like come to visit our world remakes them like us. Which means few beings willing come into our sphere long term. Although Mercane have no trouble residing on our worlds."

"My people have magical wards to protect us from the inherent polymorphing magic." Giovanni says. "You would need no such wardings, Murray. The giff live on several worlds in the sphere with no problem. For whatever odd reason, your kind register as non-offensive to the sphere and it leaves you alone. Gnolls also have no problem as well as the minotaurs of Krynnspace and the hadozee and grommans simply adore the sphere."

"Giff are considered alternatively colored hippos, Murray." Todd admits. "None of us have a problem with you. Heck, you guys introduced us to guns and cannons. Napoleon Bastylle keeps a troop of giff on retainer as gunners."

"Which would mean they're as happy as pigs in mud," Murray says with a smirk. "I am no different, I like using my guns as much as any other giff. Heck, there are times I hope for a fight so I can shoot the air to get things to quiet down."

"A whole sphere where we anthropomorphic races are the norm and the humans are the freaks?" Jean-Marie asks to which she gets a round of nods. "You said you were hiring, right, Remmy?"

"Aye, mamouizelle," Bastylle says with a self-satisfied smirk. "And you are quite welcome to come along as ship's bard."

"Then sign me up!" Jean-Marie says enthusiastically. "This is a place I gotta see!"

Everyone gets a good laugh from that comment as Murray asks. "Mind if I join up? I know my cousin; Gumjah is already a member of your crew."

"You are kin to my First Mate?" Remmy says in a startled tone of voice to which Murray nods. "I certainly wouldn't mind, how is your relationship with him?"

"We haven't spoken since the last family reunion." Murray admits. "But I would hope we parted in good...company."

As if on cue another giff in the uniform of a Prussian officer, a broadsword hangs at his side and a brace of pistols across his chest. He makes a beeline for Rembrandt and when he arrives, the hippo salutes the dog. "SAH!! Master Machiavelli has been looking for you. We have a new ship it seems to replace the one we lost the illithid scourge." Then he sees Murray. "Salutations, cousin! I hope the good captain has not been too much of a rapscallion tonight."

"Aye, Gumjah," Rembrandt says with a smile. "Yon Machiavelli has already told me the news. Gather the crew. We're going home!"

"Home, sir?" Gumjah asks. "I assume you speak of your home of Zoospace that you have regaled the crew with stories of for many a nights in the void."

"Zat is correct, my large friend." Rembrandt says with a ready smile. "Is zere room aboard for your cousin, ze three mynx over zere, ze vern, ze Reynard and zis fetching miss here?"

"We'll make room, sir." Gumjah says in all confidence. "We'll make room."

Rembrandt smiles almost evilly as he wrings his hands. "Excellent, mon ami! Tomorrow vee shall set sail for Zoospace!" After he gives Gumjah a conspiratorial nod he announces: "Alright! Ah am now going tah inspect mine new ship. Zose zat wish tah may accompany us and for ze first time in many months Ah vill be sleeping in ze Captain's Quarters aboard mine new vessel!"

"Captain Bastylle!" Navra shouts at the departing lupin. "I have a request to ask if you will favor me a moment."

"What is it, Navra?" Rembrandt asks with a slight glare. "I know you are more among a progressive minority among your kind but you know how I feel about your species in general. You personally, I know to be honorable and I can almost call you friend, so I will entertain your request."

"Thank you, Rembrandt," Navra says graciously. "I know how my people have done you harm in the past. And I am trying to break from that dark shadow. My request is that I and my servant accompany you home, I will do my best to help you along the way in any manner I can. Including lying to my own people if necessary as well as cheating them which you know I am wont to do."

"Oh, yes, you do enjoying thwarting your more nefarious relations." Rembrandt says with a grin. "I will allow you zis boon one condition and zat be unless we are dealing with others of your kind, which you defer to me and serve sometime on the helm as I know you are a sorcerer of no mean accomplishment."

"Done and done." Navra says with and eager nod. "I will admit this to you now that I do have a slightly ulterior motive in that I have recently come into contact with others of my kind that are of a similar mind set. Through scrolls and quick conferences via crystal balls we have discussed creating a separate cabal of our kind so that together we may survive and perhaps even thrive so that we may act as a counter balance to the truly vile members of our species."

"A source for Good as opposed to Evil?" Giovanni asks in and incredulous manner. "Well, Navra, should you and your fellow conspirators succeed, you know how to contact me. We could have a side deal or three if your ambition, if genuine, succeeds."

Shambling towards the group and specifically toward the neogi is a neon purple insect looking creature, almost like a giant cockroach given a semblance of humanoid form. None in the bar gives the umber hulk any second glances as this is Crash, Navra's servant and, in many ways, his hands for the fine manipulation his own claws do not allow. Clambering onto his back the renegade neogi nestles in a niche he created on Crash's back for him to securely ride on. Wordlessly the umber hulk carries its little master down the streets of the city; following Rembrandt and the rest as they make their way to the ship. A three foot tall mouse bearing leather armor takes up a musket and aims it at the umber hulk as the approach his position. That position is behind a mooring pylon near a black vessel that looks like a cross between a horseshoe crab and a pre historic trilobite.

The ship's prow is curved and almost looks like a bumper. An onyx crystal shell angles out from the prow both above and below. In place the dark crystal sheens from the light, and in other places all light is devoured in the supple darkness. Wide and almost bulbous in the front, the ship narrows further in the back to almost a rod like appearance. Black sails fan out from the back terminus like a fin and is repeated on the sides as well as above and below. In its docks, the sails undulate like the fins of some huge space crustacean in the solar winds of the void. She bears no flag or name placard but members of her crew who have been in Rembrandt's company for long stretches of time already know her name, which is carried over from ship to ship as the spirit is transferred every time Rembrandt boards her for the first time. And as the tiger striped Shepard that is Rembrandt Bastylle approaches the ship those with him almost swear they can see ghosts reflecting off the crystal surface. The spirit is that of a tigress that causes the natives of Zoospace that have chosen to accompany him, and that includes all five of them, to pause and gasp briefly as the spectral figure that seems to smile and welcome Remmy aboard is remarkably similar to portraits painted of his own mother. The face of this tigress plays on the entrance portal that opens of its own volition as a decidedly feminine voice proclaims: "Welcome back, my wayward son, welcome to the Dark Treasurer."

The pronouncement gives all the new crew members cause for pause as the mouse chuckles and continues his vigil. Rembrandt walks through the portal as if nothing was all that unusual. Once Nazra learns who the image resembles, he almost falls off of Crash as he quivers in genuine fear. While Crash carries him through the portal, he apologizes profusely to what he believes is the spirit of Rembrandt's mother for her demise. Gumjah has to stop to blink and spend a moment to clean out his ears to make sure HE is not hearing things to bear witness to a truly remorseful neogi. Crash knows his master is truly repentant. The sins of all his kind weighs heavy on his shoulders and heart as Nazra is to the point of tears with guilt for the tragedy that befell Rembrandt. All of this is not lost on the Captain who sees this is not an act or a show as he rubs Nazra's head to silently give him the succor of forgiveness that he long ago decided he had in his heart. Rembrandt has already taken his vengeance on the parties he knows were guilty of the crimes against him and his family. In fact his chair is made from the carapaces of those neogi and umber hulks that attacked him so many years ago. Nazra sees his chair and grins. Vengeance and justice have been served and although he restrains himself, Nazra knows he himself betrayed this clan to the pirate years ago and can chuckle at their demise as revenge served. All eyes of the crew aboard the Treasurer go the neogi. But once he is recognized their glare lightens as he is known as a renegade of his people and thus accepted as a potential ship mate.

Joan-Marie is repulsed by the chair, until Nazra whispers its significance. Then a dark smirk creeps on her face as she knows full well Remmy's reputation but a touch of her mind gives her a pause as her illithid handler wants to give her instructions. For now she fights Pavlov, amusing it no end. It looks through her eyes and realizes that she is on some sort of ship, then it sees Rembrandt in his chair and fully understands as it withdraws it consciousness from her mind. More because it fears discovery than any true effort on Joan-Marie's part, as Pavlov truly fears the wrath of the ranger, despite what bravado it shows to the contrary. The bard sighs again as she can sense the fear as soon as she was made to look at the Captain. Pavlov is scared of Rembrandt. Very few things cause a mind flayer to be fearful. Smiling softly to herself, Joan-Marie allows herself to hope that if she plays her cards right, she will have finally found someone who can keep her safe from the monsters that created her. She had heard tales of love being so strong as to remake a partner.

It is at this time Joan-Marie receives the flashbacks. Memories come to the forefront of her mind unbidden of floating naked in a tube of chemicals as she becomes aware of her own existence in a laboratory in some illithid stronghold. All those lessons forcefully imprinted that she was not really a living creature but a sophisticated construct of fur, various tissues and blood. Her gender was the result of a coin toss between Wisp and Pavlov that Wisp won and was made female. Tearfully Joan-Marie wonders how much like a female was she constructed. If she chose to, could she breed with this male? Or as some cruel joke, did Pavlov preclude that function from her physiology? A stray thought then comes over her as she notes Rembrandt's features. Who was she modeled after? Was she a clone of one of the sisters of this handsome pirate? Noticing her sudden distress, Remmy moves to hug and comfort her.

"Are you alright, Madame?" Rembrandt asks sincerely.

A quiet terror grips Joan-Marie as he nods. "Just a few disquiet thoughts in my head, mon Capitan. Perhaps you might help me think of other things?"

"I think I may at zat." Rembrandt says with a lustful smile. "Shall we retire tah mine quarters?"

"I think that might be for the best." Joan-Marie says as she realizes what he wants and at this point, she is very willing to give him. Internally she panics as she has never experienced this wanting before. She has had sex, yes, upon the orders of her illithid masters she learned all the ways of providing a male with pleasure with her body. But that was all clinical. What was this emotion she was feeling? Love? Lust? She ponders this as she allows the pirate lord to lead her away to his quarters.

Something about her put Rembrandt ill at ease. Her willingness to follow him to bed is a little too easy. Still he is taken in by her beauty and what he perceives to be the traditional species of his line. This is the sort of maiden his grandfather might assign to him. Which his own father rejected but he himself would now take full advantage of. Although for his own precautions, after Joan-Marie strips herself completely naked, Rembrandt takes some special rope he keeps around for just this sort of occasion and ties her up. Joan-Marie gives no protest to being bound and even gives him an approving smile. Not something she wants advertised to the multi verse but her training has left her with a slight kink in her appetites for this kind of sex play.

Rembrandt binds her arms behind her first before folding her legs to join her arms and place her ankles on her shoulders. This is done to make sure the lips of her labia and the sexual cavity that lies beyond are fully exposed. He also binds her breasts in such a way that she is almost embarrassed by how much she likes it. Licking her lips, Joan-Marie kisses Rembrandt's groin as he leans over her to check on the bindings. For his part, Rembrandt licks his muzzle in approval as he likes what he sees. Especially her breasts whose nipples are pierced with rings that have amethysts in their centers like door knockers.

Helping himself to her nipples, Rembrandt licks and suckles them as he gets himself undressed. Joan-Marie silently begs to suck on Remmy's shaft which he allows her to do to get him hard enough to penetrate as he leans back to eat her out. To enhance her role as a seductress and honey trap, Joan-Marie's tongue was pierced, which she uses to great effect as she greedily savors the Captain's soft sword. Even while she engages in this sex act nagging thoughts plague her. A debate rages in her mind as to where she wants to bring this powerful male to climax. Part of her wants to do it where his member is right now so she can drink of his semen and prove what a good lover she can be. But part of her wants him to flood her womb with his seed and perhaps prove to herself once and for all that she has all the functionality of a female lupin. Especially in the reproductive cycle, and for the simple reason that he has the power to free her from her mental bondage, Joan-Marie has already accepted Rembrandt as a worthy person to replicate.

But bound as she is, the choice is ultimately not her own. When her suckling gets him sufficiently hard enough, Rembrandt takes himself out of her muzzle and slides his engorged phallus past her labia to take her in the orifice that, as a female, she is designed to receive him. Both participants moan in pleasure together, Rembrandt gives his partner further reason to love him when he returns his muzzle to her breasts to lick and suckle them as he invades her body with his own. His sexual assault is gentle as he does his best to ensure she enjoys herself as much as he enjoys mating with her. As fate would conspire that they do so, both dogs climax simultaneously. Holding her close as they snuggle together both Rembrandt and Joan-Marie drift off to sleep together. Although of the two of them it is unfortunately the pirate who has the more pleasant dreamscape.